1749.
1.[1] The Gate of Calais.[2] Engraved by C. Mosley and W. Hogarth. "His own head sketching the view. He was arrested when he was making the drawing, but set at liberty when his purpose was known." See above, p. [49]. Mr. Walpole also observes, that in this piece, though it has great merit, "the caricatura is carried to excess." Mr. Pine the engraver sat for the portrait of the Friar, a circumstance of which he afterwards repented;[3] for, thereby obtaining the nick-name of Friar Pine, and being much persecuted and laughed at, he strove to prevail on Hogarth to give his Ghostly father another face. Indeed, when he sat to our artist, he did not know to what purpose his similitude would afterwards be applied. The original picture is in the possession of the Earl of Charlemont. Soon after it was finished, it fell down by accident, and a nail ran through the cross on the top of the gate. Hogarth strove in vain to mend it with the same colour, so as to conceal the blemish. He therefore introduced a starved crow, looking down on the roast-beef, and thus completely covered the defect.
The figure of the half-starved French centinel has since been copied at the top of more than one of the printed advertisements for recruits, where it is opposed to the representation of a well-fed British soldier. Thus the genius of Hogarth still militates in the cause of his country.
A copy of this print was likewise engraved at the top of a Cantata, intituled, The Roast Beef of Old England. As it is probable that the latter was published under the sanction of our artist, I shall, without scruple, transcribe it.
RECITATIVE.
'Twas at the Gates of Calais, Hogarth tells,
Where sad Despair and Famine always dwells,
A meagre Frenchman, Madam Grandsire's cook,
As home he steer'd his carcase, that way took,
Bending beneath the weight of fam'd Sir-loin,
On whom he often wish'd in vain to dine.
Good Father Dominick by chance came by,
With rosy gills, round paunch, and greedy eye;
Who, when he first beheld the greasy load,
His benediction on it he bestow'd;
And while the solid fat his finger press'd,
He lick'd his chaps, and thus the knight address'd:
AIR.
A lovely Lass to a Friar came, &c.
O rare Roast Beef! lov'd by all mankind,
If I was doom'd to have thee,
When dress'd and garnish'd to my mind,
And swimming in thy gravy,
Not all thy country's force combin'd
Should from my fury save thee.
Renown'd Sir-loin, oft-times decreed
The theme of English ballad,
E'en kings on thee have deign'd to feed,
Unknown to Frenchman's palate;
Then how much more thy taste exceeds
Soup-meagre, frogs, and sallad.
RECITATIVE.
A half-starv'd soldier, shirtless, pale and lean,
Who such a sight before had never seen,
Like Garrick's frighted Hamlet, gaping stood,
And gaz'd with wonder on the British food.
His morning's mess forsook the friendly bowl,
And in small streams along the pavement stole;
He heav'd a sigh, which gave his heart relief,
And then in plaintive tone declar'd his grief.
AIR.
Ah, sacre Dieu! vat do I see yonder,
Dat looks so tempting, red and white?
Begar I see it is de Roast Beef from Londre,
O grant to me one letel bite.
But to my guts if you give no heeding,
And cruel Fate dis boon denies,
In kind compassion to my pleading,
Return, and let me feast my eyes.
RECITATIVE.
His fellow guard, of right Hibernian clay,
Whose brazen front his country did betray,
From Tyburn's fatal tree had hither fled,
By honest means to get his daily bread;
Soon as the well-known prospect he espy'd,
In blubbering accents dolefully he cried:
AIR.
Ellen a Roon, &c.
Sweet Beef, that now causes my stomach to rise.
Sweet Beef, that now causes my stomach to rise,
So taking thy sight is,
My joy that so light is,
To view thee, by pailfuls runs out at my eyes.
While here I remain, my life's not worth a farthing,
While here I remain, my life's not worth a farthing,
Ah! hard-hearted Lewy,
Why did I come to ye?
The gallows, more kind, would have sav'd me from starving.
RECITATIVE.
Upon the ground hard by poor Sawney sate,
Who fed his nose, and scratch'd his ruddy pate;
But when Old England's bulwark he descry'd,
His dear-lov'd mull, alas! was thrown aside.
With lifted hands he bless'd his native place,
Then scrub'd himself, and thus bewail'd his case:
AIR.
The Broom of Cowdenknows, &c.
How hard, O Sawney! is thy lot,
Who was so blyth of late,
To see such meat as can't be got,
When hunger is so great!
O the Beef, the bonny bonny Beef!
When roasted nice and brown,
I wish I had a slice of thee,
How sweet it would gang down.
Ah, Charley! hadst thou not been seen,
This ne'er had hapt to me:
I would the De'el had pickt mine eyne
Ere I had gang'd with thee.
O the Beef, &c.
RECITATIVE.
But see! my Muse to England takes her flight,
Where Health and Plenty chearfully unite.
Where smiling Freedom guards great George's throne,
And chains, and racks, and tortures are not known;
Whose Fame superior bards have often wrote.—
An ancient fable give me leave to quote.
AIR.
The Roast Beef of Old England.
As once on a time a young Frog, pert and vain,
Beheld a large Ox grazing on the wide plain,
He boasted his size he could quickly attain.
Oh! the Roast Beef, &c.
Then eagerly stretching his weak little frame,
Mamma, who stood by, like a knowing old dame,
Cried, "Son, to attempt it you're greatly to blame."
Oh! the Roast Beef, &c.
But, deaf to advice, he for glory did thirst,
An effort he ventured, more strong than the first,
Till swelling and straining too hard, made him burst.
Oh! the Roast Beef, &c.
Then, Britons, be valiant; the moral is clear:
The Ox is Old England, the Frog is Monsieur,
Whose puffs and bravadoes we need never fear.
Oh! the Roast Beef, &c.
For while by our commerce and arts we are able
To see the brave Ox smoaking hot on our table,
The French must e'en croak, like the Frog in the fable.
Oh! the Roast Beef, &c.
Printed for R. Sayer, at the Golden Buck in Fleet-street; and J. Smith, at Hogarth's Head in Cheapside.
At the end of a pamphlet which I shall have occasion to mention under the year 1755, was announced, as speedily to be published under the auspices of our artist, "A Poetical Description of Mr. Hogarth's celebrated print, The Roast Beef of Old England, or the French surprized at the Gate of Calais."
[1] In The General Advertiser, March 9, 1748-9, appeared the following:
"This day is published, price 5s. A Print, designed and engraved by Mr. Hogarth, representing a Prodigy which lately appeared before the Gate of Calais.
"O the Roast Beef of Old England!
"To be had at the Golden-Head, in Leicester-Square, and at the Print Shops."
[2] The following lines were written by the Rev. Mr. Townley, Master of Merchant Taylors' School, and spoken by one of the Scholars, October 22, 1767,
ASSA BUBULA.
Littore in opposito, quâ turrim Dubris in altum
Ostentans, undas imperiosa regit,
Ferrea stat, multo cum milite, porta Calesi:
(Ingenium pinxit talia, Hogarthe, tuum).
Eo! sudans carnis portat latus ille bovile,
Quem, trepidis genibus, grande fatigat onus;
Obstupet hic fixis oculis atque ore patenti,
Et tenue, invitus, jus cito mittit humi:
Accedit monachus, digito tangente rubentem
Carnem, divinum prodigiumque colit.
Omnia visa placent animum; non pascis inani
Picturâ, pariter quæ placet atque docet.
Egregius patriæ proprios dat pictor honores;
Et palmam jussa est ferre bovina caro.
[3] Mr. Walpole's new edition of his "Anecdotes of Painting" having been published whilst the present page was preparing for the second edition, I took the earliest opportunity of letting that admirable writer speak for himself, in answer to a particular in which I had presumed to differ from him. "If Hogarth indulged his spirit of ridicule in personalities," (I now use the words of Mr. Walpole) "it never proceeded beyond sketches and drawings; his prints touched the folly, but spared the person. Early he drew a noted miser, one of the sheriffs, trying a mastiff that had robbed his kitchen, but the magistrate's son went to his house and cut the picture in pieces.[A] I have been reproved for this assertion," continues our agreeable Biographer, "and instances have been pointed out that contradict me. I am far from persevering in an error, and do allow that my position was too positive. Still some of the instances adduced were by no means caricaturas. Sir John Gonson and Dr. Misaubin in the Harlot's Progress were rather examples identified than satires. Others, as Mr. Pine's, were mere portraits, introduced by their own desire, or with their consent."
2. Portrait of John Palmer, esq. lord of the manor of Cogenhoe or Cooknoe, and patron of the church, of Ecton in Northamptonshire. W. Hogarth pinx. B. Baron sculp. This small head is inserted under a view of Ecton Church.
3. His own head in a cap, a pug-dog, and a palette with the line of beauty, &c. inscribed Gulielmus Hogarth. Seipse pinxit & sculpsit. Very scarce, because Hogarth erased his own portrait, and introduced that of Mr. Churchill, under the character of a bear, in its room. See under the year [1763].
On this print, in its original state, the Scandalizade, a satire published about 1749, has the following lines. The author represents himself as standing before the window of a print-shop.
"There elbowing in 'mong the crowd with a jog,
Lo! good father Tobit, said I, with his dog!
But the artist is wrong; for the dog should be drawn
At the heels of his master in trot o'er the lawn,—
To your idle remarks I take leave to demur,
'Tis not Tobit, nor yet his canonical cur,
(Quoth a sage in the crowd) for I'd have you to know, Sir,
'Tis Hogarth himself and his honest friend Towser,
Inseparate companions! and therefore you see
Cheek by jowl they are drawn in familiar degree;
Both striking the eye with an equal eclat,
The biped This here, and the quadruped That—
You mean—the great dog and the man, I suppose,
Or the man and the dog—be't just as you chuse.—
You correct yourself rightly—when much to be blam'd,
For the worthiest person you first should have nam'd,
Great dog! why great man I methinks you should say.
Split the difference, my friend, they're both great in their way.
Is't he then so famous for drawing a punk,
A harlot, a rake, and a parson so drunk,
Whom Trotplaid[1] delivers to praise as his friend?
Thus a jacknapes a lion would fain recommend.—
The very self same—how boldly they strike,
And I can't forbear thinking they're somewhat alike.—
Oh fie! to a dog would you Hogarth compare?—
Not so—I say only they're alike as it were,
A respectable pair! all spectators allow,
And that they deserve a description below
In capital letters, Behold we are Two."
[1] The name under which Fielding wrote a news-paper called The Jacobite's Journal, the frontispiece by Hogarth.
4. Portrait of Hogarth, small circle. Mr. Basire (to whom this plate has been ascribed) says it is much in our artist's manner. On enquiry, however, it appears to be no other than a watch-paper "Published according to Act of Parliament by R. Sayer, opposite Fetter-lane, Sept. 29, 1749," and certainly copied from the small portrait of our artist introduced in The Roast Beef of Old England. Another head of him, with a fur cap on, was also edited by the same printseller, at the same time. There is likewise a third head of Hogarth, in an oval, prefixed as a frontispiece to "A Dissertation" on his six prints, &c. Gin Lane, &c. which appeared in 1751.