1785.
1. Orator Henley Christening a Child. Etched by Saml Ireland from an original sketch in oil—in his possession—by Hogarth.—To Francis Grose, Esq; F. A. S. an encourager and promoter of the arts, this etching, from his favourite Hogarth, is inscribed by his obliged friend and servant, Saml Ireland.
2. A Landscape. Etch'd by Saml Ireland, from an original picture in his possession, said to be the only landscape ever painted by Hogarth.—To the Right Honourable the Earl of Exeter, an admirer of Hogarth, and encourager of the arts, this etching is inscribed by his Lordship's most obliged and obedient servant. S. Ireland.
The very considerable degree of skill and fidelity, displayed in the execution of these two plates, entitles the gentleman who etched them to the warmest thanks of every collector of the works of Hogarth.—May a hope be added, that he will favour us with yet other unpublished designs of the same master?
Prints of uncertain Date.
Before Mr. Walpole's enumeration of the following shop-bills, coats of arms, &c. made its appearance, perhaps few of them were known to our collectors. Concerning the genuineness of some of these unimportant engravings, no doubt can be entertained; but whence is it inferred that all of them were his productions? Do we receive them merely on the faith of Mr. Pond? or are they imputed to our artist for any other reason, or on the strength of any other testimony? I am assured, by a gentleman who possesses the chief of them, and is well acquainted with Hogarth's manner, that from mere external evidence several of these could not have been authenticated.
It is natural, however, to suppose that most of them (if Hogarth's) were the fruits of his apprenticeship.[1] As such, therefore, they should be placed at the beginning of every collection.
[1] Let it be remembered likewise, that being bound apprentice to the single branch of engraving arms and cyphers, the majority of his works, whether on base metal or silver, must have been long since melted down. During the minority of Hogarth, the forms in which plate was made, could contribute little to its chance of preservation. Pot-bellied tankards, and salvers scalloped like old-fashioned minced-pies, were the highest efforts of that period.
1. People in a shop under the King's arms: Mary and Ann Hogarth. "A shop-bill" for his two sisters, who for many years kept a linen-draper's, or rather what is called a slop-shop.
Mary and Ann Hogarth.
from the Old Frock-shop near the corner of The
Long Walk, facing The Cloysters, Removed to ye
Kings Arms joyning to ye Little Britain-gate, near
Long Walk. Sells ye best and most Fashionable
Ready Made Frocks, sutes of Fustian, Ticken and
Holland, stript Dimmity and Flañel Wastcoats, blue
and canvas Frocks, and bluecoat Boys Drars.
Likewise Fustians, Tickens, Hollands, white stript
Dĩ̃mitys, white and stript Flañels in ye piece.
By wholesale or Retale, at Reasonable Rates.
2. His own cypher, with his name under it at length; "a plate he used for his books." I have reason to think it was neither designed nor engraved by Hogarth.
3. A Turk's head. "A shop bill," for John Barker, goldsmith, at the Morocco Ambassador's head in Lombard-Street.—A copy of this has been made.
4. A shop-bill, with emblems of Trade. Grand Duke of Tuscany's arms at the top; those of Florence within the plate. At the four corners, views of Naples, Venice, Genoa, and Leghorne.
At Mrs. Holt's,
Italian Warehouse,
at the two Olive Posts in ye broad part of The
Strand almost opposite to Exeter Change are sold all
Sorts of Italian Silks, as Lustrings, Sattins, Padesois,
Velvets, Damasks, &c. Fans, Legorne Hats, Flowers,
Lute and Violin Strings, Books of Essences, Venice
Treacle, Balsomes, &c. And in a Back Warehouse
all Sorts of Italian Wines, Florence Cordials, Oyl,
Olives, Anchovies, Capers, Vermicelli, Bolognia Sausidges,
Parmesan Cheeses, Naple Soap, &c.
5. A large angel, holding a palm in his left hand. "A shop-bill" for
Ellis Gamble
Goldsmith,
at the Golden-Angel in Cranbourn-street,
Leicester-Fields.
Makes Buys and Sells all Sorts
of Plate, Rings and Jewels
&c.
Ellis Gamble
Orfeure,
a l'Enseigne de l'Ange d'Or
dans Cranbourn-Street, Leicester-Fields.
Fait, Achete,
& vend toutes sortes d'Argenterie,
Bagues & Bijouxs, &c.
6. A smaller angel. This is a contracted copy from the preceding, was another shop-bill for our Artist's Master, and has the same inscription as that already given.
7. Another small angel "almost the same as the preceding," in the collection of Mr. Walpole.
8. A large oval coat of arms, with terms of the four seasons.
9. A coat of arms, with two slaves and trophies. Plate for books.
10. Another coat of arms, and two boys as terms.
11. A foreign coat of arms; supporters a savage and an angel. Ditto.
12. Lord Aylmer's coat of arms.
13. Two ditto of the Duchess of Kendal; one of them, an impression from a silver tea table.
14. The Earl of Radnor's arms, from a silver cup and cover.
15. A grifon, with a flag. A crest.
16. Minerva, sitting and holding the arms of Holland, four Cupids round her. "Done for the books of John Holland, herald-painter."
Of this there are two plates. The Fleurs de Lys in the one are more numerous and crowded than in the other.
17. A ticket for a burial.
For the same purpose our artist's contemporary Coypel likewise engraved a plate, which is still in use.
18. Two small for Milton. W. Hogarth inv. & sculp.
It is so singular, that only plates referring to the first and third books of Paradise Lost should be discovered with our artist's name subscribed to them, that I almost suspect they were not executed for any edition of that work, but rather for some oratorio or operatical performance founded thereon, though neither performed nor printed. An example of two prints by Hogarth to a single dramatic piece, we have already met with in [Perseus and Andromeda].
If the first of the present designs was made for the first book of Paradise Lost, one might almost swear that Hogarth had never read it, or he could not have fallen into the strange absurdities and incoherences that his engraving displays. We have on one side a Dæmon exalted in a kind of pulpit, at the foot of which another infernal spirit lies bound in chains, while a cannon is pointed at his head. At a distance, in the centre of an arcade adorned with statues, is a throne with a personage seated on it. Over his head are little beings supporting an emblem of eternity. Stars, &c. appear above them. Whether this dignified character was designed for "a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd," it would be difficult from his figure and attributes to determine. Perhaps several works of fancy might be named, with which the present representation would as naturally connect as with the first book of Milton's Poem.
The following plate exhibits two celestial characters of equal age. They sit aloft in the clouds, and listen to a concert of angels playing on various instruments, and, among the rest, on a clumsy organ. A ray of light darts down on a distant orb, designed, I suppose, for the new-created world, towards which the figure of a little being, scarce bigger than a bird, though meant for Satan, is seen directing its flight.[1]
A bookseller of common sagacity would have been justified in rejecting these designs, if prepared for Milton. Indeed, had I not been taught by Mr. Walpole's catalogue that such was their destination, I should not hastily have conjectured that the former of them had the least reference to the Poet's Pandæmonium. Let it be remembered, however, that these must have been among the earliest of Hogarth's performances, and, like his prints for Don Quixote, were in all probability thrown aside, as unsuited to the purpose for which they were engraved. I have been told, indeed, that a couple of plates, by our artist, to the comedy of The Spanish Friar, are still existing.[2] If Hogarth, therefore, was once employed in preparing cuts to the plays of Dryden, the designs already mentioned might have been intended for two different scenes in The State of Innocence, or the Fall of Man.
[1] In justice, however, to one of these designs, I transcribe part of a letter that appeared in The Gentleman's Magazine for March 1782.
"Twickenham, March 12.
"Mr. Urban,
"Throughout Mr. Nichols's excellent but unequal account of Hogarth and his works, there is no decision I am so much inclined to controvert, as that respecting the first of the two plates to Milton. Perhaps the critic had only seen some imperfect copy of the Pandæmonium, or formed his idea of it on the vague description of those who who had considered it with less attention than it really deserves. In my opinion, our artist's arrangement of the infernal senate affords a happy instance of his power to exhibit scenes of picturesque sublimity. The ample space within the arcade, containing myriads of subordinate spirits; the vault above, illuminated by supernatural fires; the magnificence and elevation of Satan's throne; his superior stature, and the characteristic symbols over the seats of his peers; are circumstances entitled to a more flattering reception than they have met with. That this print has likewise absurdities, I am ready to allow: yet a Voltaire might ask whether most of them are not inseparable from its subject. I wish, for the sake of those who acknowledge the genius of Hogarth only in familiar combinations, that the plate in question were less rare. Our connoisseurs in general might then decide on its merits. The only known impression of it, as well as of its companion, is in the collection of Mr. Walpole,[A] who once indulged me with a sight of them both.
"I am content, however, that the second of these plates should be abandoned to the austerities of criticism. The architecture in the skies is every way unsuitable to its place. The characters of the Almighty and our Redeemer have little, if any, discrimination of attributes or years. They appear swinging on a festoon composed of tiny cherubs, clustered together like a swarm of bees. The Father rests his arm on one of these childish satellites; and the Son holds another by the wing, like Domitian catching a fly. Beneath, is a concert of angels, who perform on different instruments, and among others (as Mr. Nichols's book expresses it) on a clumsy organ. Lucifer, approaching the new-created world, appears but as an insect, flying towards an apple. This part of Hogarth's subject is beyond the compass of any design on a contracted scale. Satan might be delineated in the act of alighting on a promontory, a part of the earth; but when its complete orb is exhibited on a slip of paper measuring about six inches by four, the enterprizing fiend must be reduced to very insignificant dimensions. Such a circumstance may therefore succeed in a poet's comprehensive description, but will fail on any plate designed for the ornament of a little volume.
"Let me add, that these two are the neatest and most finished of all the engravings by Hogarth. The second might have been mistaken for one of the smaller works of Picart. Perhaps the high price demanded for the plates, was the reason why a series of them was not continued through the other books of Paradise Lost."
[A] These two plates are also in the collection of Mr. Steevens.
[2] These are in the collection of the Earl of Exeter, and are said to have the name of our artist fallaciously affixed to them. I speak, however, with uncertainty.
19. A coat of arms from a large silver tea table. Under these arms are a shepherd and his flock, exactly the same as those on the tankard, N° [25]. A shepherd and shepherdess also are the supporters. This has been ascribed to Hogarth, but I suspect it to be a copy, and am told indeed that it was engraved by Pelitreau.
20. Impression from a coat of arms engraved on a silver dish made by Delemery; purchased, at some distance of time, by Sir Gregory Page, Bart. who erased the original arms from the escutcheon, and had his own put in. The dish was afterwards bought at Christie's at a sale of Sir Gregory's plate; and when 25 impressions only had been taken from it, was cut to pieces by R. Morrison, 1781. I wish some of these discoveries of Hogarth's engravings had been made by people who had no immediate view to their own profit, and the sale of their acquisitions. Too many of our collectors are become dealers.
21. Small oval print for the Rape of the Lock. This was not designed for any edition of it. A few impressions only were taken off from the lid of a snuff-box engraved by Mr. Hogarth, as it is believed, for some gentleman characterized by Pope in his celebrated mock-heroic poem. It is one of the poorest of Hogarth's performances.
22. An emblematic print, representing Agriculture and Arts. "It seems to be a ticket for some society."
23. A ticket for the benefit of Milward the tragedian. A scene in The Beggar's Opera; "Pitt 3 s." inserted with a pen between "Theatre" and "Royal," in a scroll at the bottom of it. I have seen an impression of it, under which is engraved, "Lincolns-Inn Fields, Tuesday, Aprill 23. A Bold Stroke for a Wife, with Entertainments, for the benefit of Mr. Milward." This careless, but spirited little engraving, has more of Hogarth's manner than several other more laboured pieces, which of late have been imputed to him.—Let the connoisseur judge.
This ticket (as is already observed) must have been issued before 1733, when the Theatre in Lincolns-Inn-Fields was shut up, and all the actors, Milward among the rest, removed to Covent Garden.
24. The Mystery of Masonry brought to Light by the Gormagons.
A. Chin Quaw-Kypo' Done from ye Original.
1st Emperor of China. Painted at Pekin by Matt-chauter,
B. The sage Confucius. Grav'd by Ho-ge
C. In Chin present and sold by ye Printsellers
Oecumenical Volgi. of London Paris and Rome.
D. The Mandarin Hangchi. Hogarth inv. et sculp.
To the earliest impressions of this plate, the name of Sayer (for whom it has since been retouched) is wanting. "Stolen from Coypel's Don Quixote." Underneath, these verses:
From Eastern climes, transplanted to our coasts,
Two oldest orders that creation boasts
Here meet in miniature, expos'd to view
That by their conduct men may judge their due.
The Gormagons, a venerable race,
Appear distinguish'd with peculiar grace:
What honour! wisdom! truth! and social love!
Sure such an order had its birth, above.
But mark Free Masons! what a farce is this?
How wild their mystery! what a Bum they kiss![1]
Who would not laugh,[2] who such occasions had?
Who should not weep, to think the world so mad?
I should suspect that this plate was published about 1742, when the Procession[3] of Scald Miserables had been produced[4] to parody the cavalcade of the Free Masons, who ever afterwards discontinued their annual procession. Hogarth was always ready to avail himself of any popular subject that afforded a scope to ridicule. Among Harry Carey's Poems, however, 1729, third edition, is the following;
"The Moderator between the Free-Masons and Gormogons.
"The Masons and the Gormogons
Are laughing at one another,
While all mankind are laughing at them;
Then why do they make such a pother?
"They bait their hook for simple gulls,
And truth with bam they smother;
But when they've taken in their culls,
Why then 'tis—Welcome Brother!"
The particular disputes between the parties referred to by this poem, it is not easy to ascertain. Perhaps the humourous writer alludes to some schism or dissention now forgotten. Mr. Gray, in one of his letters to Mr. Walpole, says, "I reckon next week to hear you are a Free Mason, or a Gormogon at least." 4to edition, p. 188.
I learn from Masonry Dissected, &c. a pamphlet published in 1730, by Samuel Prichard, late member of a Constituted Lodge, that "From the Accepted Mason sprang the real Masons, and from both sprang the Gormogons, whose grand master the Volgi deduces his original from the Chinese, whose writings, if to be credited, maintain the hypotheses of the Pre-adamites, and consequently must be more antique than Masonry."—This circumstance will account for the Chinese names and habits in our artist's plate.
[1] On this occasion the print exhibits a trait of humour that may hitherto have escaped observation. To render the part presented for salutation more tempting, it has patches on, such as women wore at the time when the plate was published.
[2] Who would not laugh, &c. Parody on the concluding couplet of Pope's character of Addison.
[3] The contrivers of the Mock Procession were at that time said to be Paul Whitehead, esq. and his intimate friend (whose real Christian name was Esquire) Carey, of Pall Mall, surgeon to Frederic Prince of Wales. The city officers did not suffer this procession to go through Temple-Bar, the common report then being, that its real intent was to affront the annual procession of the Free Masons. The Prince was so much offended at this piece of ridicule, that he immediately removed Carey from the office he held under him.
[4] The print, representing a View of Somerset-House and of The Strand, is 3 feet 11½ inches in length, and ten inches in width; and is intituled, "A Geometrical View of the grand Procession of the scald-miserable Masons, designed as they were drawn up over against Somerset-House in The Strand, on the Twenty-seventh of April, An° 1742. Invented and engraved by A. Benoist, at his Lodgings, at Mr. Jordan's, a Grocer, the North East Corner of Compton-street, So-ho; and sold by the Printsellers of London and Westminster.—Note, A. Benoist teaches Drawing abroad.
"N° 1. The grand Swoard Bearer, or Tyler, carrying the Swoard of State (a Present of Ishmael Abiff to old Hyram King of the Saracens) to his Grace of Wattin, Grand Master of the Holy Lodge of St. John of Jerusalem in Clerkenwell.
"2. Tylers or Guarders.
"3. Grand Chorus of Instruments.
"4. The Stewards, in three Gutt Carts, drawn by Asses.
"5. Two famous Pillars, Jachin and Boaz.
"6. Three great Lights: the Sun Hieroglyphical to rule the Day, the Moon Emblematical to rule the Night; a Master Mason Political to rule his—Lodge.
"7. The Entered Prentice's Token.
"8. The Letter G famous in Masonry for differencing the Fellow Craft's Lodge from that of Prentices.
"9. The Funeral of a Grand Master, according to the Rites of the Order, with the 15 loving Brethren.
"10. A Master Mason's Lodge.
"11. Grand Band of Musick.
"12. Two Trophies; one being that of a Black-shoe Boy and Link Boy, the other that of a Chimney Sweeper.
"13. The Equipage of the Grand Master, all the Attendants wearing Mystical Jewels."
A different, but a smaller, print of this Mock Procession was printed in May 1742, with the following memoranda, viz. "The great Demand there has been for The Westminster Journal, of the 8th instant, occasion'd reprinting the following piece.
"From my own Apartments in Spring Gardens.
"Though I do not belong to the Fraternity mentioned in the following piece, and therefore am little concerned in the annual disputes, I think it my duty, as a Watchman of the city of Westminster, to preserve the memory of the late extraordinary Cavalcade, the like to which hath never happened since I have been in office. As more solemn processions have of late years been very rare, it cannot surely be taken amiss, either by the Free Masons, or the Scald-Miserables, that I give so much distinction to this.
"T. Touchit.
"The Free Mason's Downfall, or the Restoration of the Scald-Miserables."
After the print follows: "A Key, or Explanation of the solemn and stately Procession of the Scald-Miserable Masons, as it was martial'd on Tuesday the 27th past, by their Scald-Pursuivant Black Mantle—set forth by Order of the Grand Master Poncy."—Printed by J. Mechell, at The Kings Arms in Fleet-street, and sold by the Pamphlet-shops, &c. Price Two-pence.
Extracts from The London Daily Post, March 20, 1740-1, &c. "Yesterday some mock Free-Masons marched through Pall-Mall and The Strand, as far as Temple-Bar, in procession; first went fellows on jack-asses, with cows horns in their hands; then a kettle-drummer on a jack-ass, having two butter-firkins for kettle-drums; then followed two carts drawn by jack-asses, having in them the stewards with several badges of their order; then came a mourning coach drawn by six horses, each of a different colour and size, in which were the grand master and wardens; the whole attended by a vast mob. They stayed without Temple Bar till the Masons came by, and paid their compliments to them, who returned the same with an agreeable humour that possibly disappointed the witty contriver of this mock scene, whole misfortune is, that though he has some wit, his subjects are generally so ill chosen, that he loses by it as many friends as other people of more judgement gain."
Again, April 28, 1742. "Yesterday being the annual feast of the ancient and honourable society of Free and Accepted Masons, they made a grand procession from Brook-street to Haberdashers Hall, where an elegant entertainment was provided for them, and the evening was concluded with that harmony and decency peculiar to the society."
"Some time before the society began their cavalcade, a number of shoe-cleaners, chimney-sweepers, &c. on foot and in carts, with ridiculous pageants carried before them, went in procession to Temple-Bar, by way of jest on the Free-Masons, at the expence, as we hear, of one hundred pounds sterling, which occasioned a great deal of diversion."
Again, May 3, 1744. "Yesterday several of the mock masons were taken up by the constable empowered to impress men for his Majesty's service, and confined till they can be examined by the justices."
24. Sancho, at the magnificent feast, &c. starved by his Physician. On the top of this plate are the following words: "This original print was invented and engraved by William Hogarth. Price 1 s." At bottom we read, W. Hogarth inv. & sculp. Printed for H. Overton and J. Hoole. Perhaps this design was meant as a rival to that of Coypel on the same subject; or might be intended by way of specimen of a complete set of plates for Don Quixote. Mr. S. Ireland has the original drawing.
25. Impression from a tankard belonging to a club of artists, who met weekly at The Bull's Head in Clare-Market. Of this society Hogarth was a member. A shepherd and his flock are here represented.
26. The Gin Drinkers. This may have been one of Hogarth's early performances; and, if such, is to be considered as a rude fore-runner of his Gin-Lane. But I do not vouch for its authencity.
27. The Oratory.[1] Orator Henley on a scaffold, a monkey (over whom is written Amen) by his side. A box of pills and the Hyp Doctor lying beside him. Over his head, "The Oratory. Inveniam viam, aut faciam."[2] Over the door. "Ingredere ut proficias."[3] A Parson receiving the money for admission. Under him, "The Treasury." A Butcher stands as porter. On the left hand, Modesty in a cloud; Folly in a coach; and a gibbet prepared for Merit; people laughing. One marked The Scout,[4] introducing a Puritan Divine. A Boy easing nature. Several grotesque figures, one of them (marked Tee-Hee) in a violent fit of laughter. I discover no reason for regarding this as a production of Hogarth, though his name, cut from the bottom of one of his smaller works, was fraudulently affixed to an impression of it belonging to the late worthy Mr. Ingham Foster, whose prints were sold at Barford's, in March 1783. Hogarth, whose resources, both from fancy and observation, were large, was never, like the author of this plate, reduced to the poor necessity of peopling his comic designs with Pierot, Scaramouch, and the other hackneyed rabble of French and Italian farces.
Underneath a second impression of it, is the following inscription:
"An extempore Epigram, made at the Oratory:
"O Orator! with brazen face and lungs,
Whose jargon's form'd of ten unlearned tongues,
Why stand'st thou there a whole long hour haranguing,
When half the time fits better men for hanging!"
Geo. B—k—h[5] jun. Copper-scratcher
and Grub-Street invent. sculp.
[1] There are such coincidences between this print and that of The Beggar's Opera, as incline me to think they were both by the same hand.
[2] The motto on the medals which Mr Henley dispersed as tickets to his subscribers. See Note on Dunciad, III. 199.
[3] This inscription is over the outer door of St. Paul's school.
[4] On what personage the name of Scout was bestowed, I am unable to inform the reader, though I recollect having seen the same figure in several other prints, particularly one from which it appears that he was at last murdered.
[5] B—k—h. Perhaps this was an intended mistake for B—k—m.
28. Orator Henley christening a child. John Sympson jun. fecit. Mezzotinto (commonly of a greenish colour), with the following verses under it:
Behold Vilaria lately brought to bed,
Her cheeks now strangers to their rosy red;
Languid her eyes, yet lovely she appears!
And oh! what fondness her lord's visage wears!
The pamper'd priest, in whose extended arms
The female infant lies, with budding charms,
Seeming to ask the name e'er he baptise,
Casts at the handsome gossips his wanton eyes,
While gay Sir Fopling, an accomplish'd ass,
Is courting his own dear image in the glass:
The Midwife busied too, with mighty care,
Adjusts the cap, shews innocency fair.
Behind her stands the Clerk, on whose grave face
Sleek Abigal cannot forbear to gaze:
But master, without thought, poor harmless child,
Has on the floor the holy-water spill'd,
Thrown down the hat; the lap-dog gnaws the rose;
And at the fire the Nurse is warming cloaths.
One guest enquires the Parson's name;—says Friendly,
Why, dont you know, Sir?—'tis Hyp-Doctor[1] H——y.
Sold by J. Sympson, at the Dove in Russel-Court, Drury-Lane. An original sketch in oil, on the same subject, is in the possession of Mr. S. Ireland.[2]
[1] He wrote a periodical paper under that title.
[2] See p. [415]. for an etching from it.
29. A woman swearing a child to a grave citizen.[1] W. Hogarth pinx. J. Sympson jun. sculp. Sold by J. Sympson engraver and print-seller, at The Dove in Russel-Court, Drury-Lane. This Mr. Walpole observes to be a very bad print. Perhaps he had only seen some wretched impression, or copy of it (for there are two, the one in a small size, the other large, but fit for no other purpose than to adorn the walls of a country Inn), and therefore spoke with contempt of a performance which hardly deserves so unfavourable a character. This entire design, however, is stolen from a picture of Heemskirk, which has been since engraved in mezzotinto by W. Dickinson of New Bond-street, and published March 10, 1772. The original picture is in the possession of Mr. Watson, surgeon, in Rathbone Place.
The title given to this plate by the ingenious engraver, is The Village Magistrate. All the male figures are monkies; all the female ones, cats. Hogarth has likewise been indebted to its companion—The Constable of the Night. Few impressions from these plates having been hitherto sold, they are both in excellent condition, and the former of them exhibits an indisputable instance of Hogarth's plagiarism.
While Picart was preparing his Religious Ceremonies, he wrote to some friend here, to supply him with representations illustrative of his subject. His correspondent, either through ignorance or design, furnished him with the two preceding plates by Hogarth. Picart has engraved the former with a few variations, and the latter with the utmost fidelity. The one is called by him Le Serment de la Fille qui se trouve enceinte; the other, Le Baptême domestique. The first contains a supposed portrait of Sir Thomas de Veil. For the conversion of a civil into a religious ceremony, let the Frenchman, or his purveyor, be answerable. The lines under Hogarth's performance are as follows:
Here Justice triumphs in his elbow chair,
And makes his market of the trading fair;
His office-shelves with parish laws are grac'd,
But spelling-books, and guides between 'em placed
Here pregnant madam screens the real fire,
And falsely swears her bastard child for hire
Upon a rich old letcher, who denies
The fact, and vows the naughty Hussif lies;
His wife enrag'd, exclaims against her spouse,
And swears she'll be reveng'd upon his brows;
The jade, the justice, and church ward'ns agree,
And force him to provide security.
Hogarth's picture is in the possession of the Rev. Mr. Whalley, at Ecton, Northamptonshire.
Mr. Whalley is the nephew of John Palmer, whose portrait is mentioned among the works of Hogarth. See p. [295]. This picture too is at Ecton. The foregoing print (as already observed, p. [121].) must have been published before the year 1735.
[1] A copy of this forms the head-piece to a tale printed in Banks's Works, vol, I. p. 248, intituled, "The Substitute Father."
30. Right Hon. Gustavus Lord Viscount Boyne, &c. &c. Whole length, mezzotinto. W. Hogarth pinx. Andrew Miller fecit. "A very bad print, done in Ireland."
I have since met with an early impression of this mezzotinto. The inscription, dedication, &c. underneath it, are as follows:
"W. Hogarth pinx. Ford fecit. The Rt. Honble. Gustavus Lord Visct. Boyne, Baron of Stackallen, one of his Majesty's most Honble. Priuy Council, one of the Comrs. of the Revenue of Ireland, &c.
"To the Rt. Honble. the Earl of Kildare this plate is humbly dedicated by his Lordship's most obedient humble servt. Mich. Ford.
"Published and sold by Mich. Ford, Painter and Print-seller on Cork Hill. Price 5s. 5.d. [i. e. five thirteens.">[
Mr. Walpole's is probably a later or a retouched impression from the same plate, after it had fallen into the hands of one Andrew Miller, who effaced the name of Ford, and substituted his own.
This scarce print will undoubtedly suffer from comparison with the works of Smith, M'Ardell, Earlom, Jones, &c. and yet perhaps it is the best mezzotinto that Ireland has hitherto produced. It must be confessed, however, that Hogarth's whole-length figure of Lord Boyne is equally void of grace, meaning, and proportion; but these defects have no connection with the labours of Ford, which would have appeared to more advantage had they been exerted on a better subject.
31. Mr. Pine (the celebrated engraver), in the manner of Rembrandt. Mezzotinto (about the year 1746), by M'Ardell, Price 2 s. The original was in the possession of the late Mr. Ranby the surgeon.
There is a second head of Mr. Pine, a mezzotinto; both his hands leaning on a cane. Printed for George Pulley, at Rembrandt's Head, the corner of Bride-court, Fleet-street.
I have called this "a second head," but know not which of the two was first published.
In the first edition of the present work I had described this plate as an unfinished one, but have since met with it in a perfect state.
32. A View of Mr. Ranby's house at Chiswick. Etched by Hogarth. This view, I am informed, was taken in 1750, but was not designed for sale.
33. Daniel Lock, Esq. F. S. A. formerly an architect. He retired from business with a good fortune, lived in Surrey-street, and was buried in the chapel of Trinity College, Cambridge. Mezzotinto. W. Hogarth pinx. J. M'Ardell fecit. Price 1 s. 6 d.
34. Christ and his disciples; persons at a distance carried to an hospital. "In as much as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." St. Matt. xxv. ver. 40. W. Hogarth inv. C. Grignion sculp. Ticket for The London Hospital.
As this charitable foundation was instituted in 1740, probably the ticket was engraved soon afterwards.
35. Original of the same, in a smaller size, with the Duke of Richmond's arms as president.
36. Another, almost the same as N° 34, but with a view of The London Hospital.
37. Six prints for Don Quixote. W. Hogarth inv. & sculp.
When Lord Carteret, about the year 1737, was seeking artists to design, &c. plates for his Spanish edition of this famous novel, published in 1738, Hogarth, of course, was not overlooked. His performances, however, gave so little satisfaction to his noble employer, that they were paid for, and then laid aside in favour of Vandrebank's drawings, afterwards engraved by Vandergucht. The plates remaining in the hands of Mr. Tonson, his lordship's publisher, at his death, were bought by Mr. Dodsley, who, finding they exhibited no descriptions that could render them welcome to the possessors of any copy of Don Quixote whatever, had the titles of the chapters, &c. to which they belong, together with references to the corresponding pages in Jarvis's translation, engraved under each of them. The subjects of them are, I. Funeral of Chrysostom, and Marcella vindicating herself; vol. I. p. 71. II. The Inn-keeper's wife and daughter taking care of the Don after being beaten and bruised, p. 129. III. Don Quixote releases the galley slaves, p. 129. IV. The unfortunate Knight of the Rock meeting Don Quixote, p. 140. V. Don Quixote seizes the barber's bason for Mambrino's helmet, p. 155. VI. The Curate and Barber disguising themselves to convey Don Quixote home, p. 166. Tonson had several specimens of plates, both in quarto and octavo sizes, executed for editions of Shakspeare, but they shared the same fate with the others prepared for Don Quixote.
38. An oval, with two figures representing Hymen and Cupid. A view of a magnificent villa at a distance. This print was intended as a ticket for Sigismunda, which Hogarth proposed to be raffled for. It is often marked with ink 2 l. 2 s. The number of each ticket was to have been inserted on the scroll hanging down from the knee of the principal figure. Perhaps none of them were ever disposed of. This plate, however, must have been engraved about 1762 or 3. Had I not seen many copies of it marked by the hand of Hogarth, I should have supposed it to have been only a ticket for a concert or music-meeting.
39. Four heads from the cartoons at Hampton-Court. An etching.
Mr. Walpole, in his Anecdotes of Painting, &c. vol. IV. p. 22. speaking of Sir James Thornhill's attention to these celebrated pictures, has the following remark: "He made copious studies of the heads, hands, and feet, and intended to publish an exact account of the whole, for the use of students: but his work never appeared."
As this plate was found among others engraved by Hogarth, it might probably have been one of his early performances. His widow has directed a few impressions to be taken from it, and they are sold at her house in Leicester-square.
40. A Scene in a Pantomime Entertainment lately exhibited; designed by a Knight of Malta. A satire on the Royal Incorporated Society of Artists of Great Britain. No name.
This design is difficult to be explained, as it alludes to some forgotten dissentions among the artists before the Royal Academy was founded. Sir William Chambers, Kirby, Rooker the Engraver and Harlequin, Liotard, remarkable for having adopted the Turkish dress, and others, are introduced in it. The hat and head of Hogarth also appear on one of the necks of a Hydra. It is hardly credible, therefore, that he should have rendered himself an object of his own satire. A mere etched outline of the same design, with additions, was afterwards published, and is marked plate II. It is larger than the original plate, and must be considered as a slight temporary sketch, of which the author is uncertain.
41. A Ticket-porter carrying a load of chamber-pots to some place of public resort, from the entrance of which three grenadiers are keeping off the crowd. At the bottom is written.
"Jack in an Office, or Peter Necessary, with Choice of Chamber-pots.
"A Ticket for the——————————Price 6 d."
Of the following articles the 49th, and 53d, are the undoubted productions of Hogarth. Some of the rest may admit of dispute. Those marked * I have not yet seen in any collection but that of Mr. S. Ireland.
* 42. Arms of George Lambart [Lambert] the painter, an intimate friend of our artist.
* 43. Arms of Gore, engraved on a silver waiter.
* 44. Arms of a Duke of Kendal. N. B. There never was a Duke of Kendal, but an infant son of James II. The arms mentioned are certainly those of the Dutchess of Kendal. The male shield must be a mistake.
* 45. Arms of Chudleigh; motto "Aut vincam, aut peribo." Done for Major L'Emery, whilst Hogarth was apprentice.
46. The Great Seal of England, from a large silver table. This was given to Mr. S. Ireland by a Mr. Bonneau, who took off the impression before the year 1740.
47. Twenty-six figures, on two large sheets, engraved for "A Compendium of Military Discipline, as it is practised by the Honourable the Artillery Company of the City of London, for the initiating and instructing Officers of the Trained Bands of the said City, &c. Most humbly dedicated to his Royal Highness George Prince of Wales, Captain General of the Honourable the Artillery Company. By John Blackwell, Adjutant and Clerk to the said Company.
"London. Printed for the Author; and are to be sold at his house in Well-Court in Queen-Street, near Cheapside, 1726."
48. Farinelli, Cuzzoni, and Heydegger. Cuzzoni and Farinelli are singing a duet. The latter is in the character of a prisoner, being chained by his little finger. Heydegger sits behind, and is supposed to utter the eight following lines, which are engraved under the plate:
Thou tuneful scarecrow, and thou warbling bird,
No shelter for your notes these lands afford.
This town protects no more the singsong strain,
Whilst Balls and Masquerades triumphant reign.
Sooner than midnight revels ere should fail,
And ore Ridottos Harmony prevail;
The cap (a refuge once) my head shall grace,
And save from ruin this harmonious face.[1]
I am told, however, that this plate was designed by the last Countess of Burlington, and etched by Goupy. I may add, that the figures in it, though slightly done on the whole, consist of more than a single stroke, being retouched and heightened by the burin in several places. On the contrary, Hogarth's plate, intituled The Charmers of the Age, only offers an etched outline, which at once afforded the extent of his design, leaving no room for improvement. The former print exhibits traces of perseverance and assiduity; the latter is an effort of genius that completes its purpose without elaboration.
[1] He had once enlisted as a private soldier in the Guards, for a protection. See p. [152].
49. The Discovery. This scarce plate is acknowledged as genuine by Mrs. Hogarth. The subject is a black woman in bed; her eyes archly turned on her gallant just risen, who expresses his astonishment on the entrance of three laughing friends, one of them with a candle in his hand. Underneath the print is this apposite motto:
Qui color albus erat nunc est contrarius albo.
A similar circumstance occurs in Fletcher's Monsieur Thomas, and in Foote's Cozeners.
I know not of any among our artist's works that displays so little character. It must have been one of his early performances.
It should be observed that, being founded on a private occurrence, this print was never designed for general circulation. Mr. Highmore the manager of Drury-Lane, who bought Cibber's share in the patent, is the Hero of it. A few copies only were distributed among Hogarth's particular friends, and the gentlemen whose portraits it contains. At the bottom of the plate there is no descriptive title. The Discovery was that by which Mrs. Hogarth mentioned it when she recollected the very laughable circumstance here commemorated by her husband's pencil.
* 50. The Cottage. An impression from a breeches-button, the size of a crown-piece; a sketch made for Mr. Camfield, a surgeon, on a subject that will not bear explanation. There is a copy of this little plate by Mr. S. Ireland.
51. Pug the Painter. This has been usually understood as a satire on Hogarth, rather than a design by him. Mr. Ireland once told me it was etched by Dawes, and that our artist gave a copy of it, as his own design, to Mr. Kirby. But I am assured with superior confidence by another gentleman, that the true author of it is to be sought among those artists whom Hogarth had provoked by his contemptuous treatment of their works. If Pug was not designed as his representative, why is the animal exhibited in the act of painting the ridiculous figure of the Priest in The Good Samaritan?
52. A Head in an oval, coarsely engraved, and subscribed "Samuel Butler Author of Hudibras." Several connoisseurs, beside Mr. Thane who possesses the plate, conceive it to be an undoubted work of Hogarth. For what purpose it was executed, and why suppressed (for no one has hitherto met with even a proof from it) it is vain to enquire. I am silent on the subject, heartily wishing that throughout this work I had had the opinions of more friends to record, and had offered fewer sentiments of my own.
53. "A very rare hieroglyphic print; representing Royalty, Episcopacy, and Law, composed of emblematic attributes, and no human features or limbs; with attendants of similar ingredients. Beneath is this inscription. Some of the principal inhabitants of the Moon, as they were discovered by a telescope, brought to the greatest perfection since the last eclipse; exactly engraved from the objects, whereby the Curious may guess at their Religion, Manners, &c. Price Six-pence."
A kind of scaffold above the clouds is the theatre of this representation. Monarchy, Episcopacy, and Law, appear characteristically seated. Their faces are—a Crown-piece—a Jew's Harp, and—a Mallet. The monarch holds a globe and sceptre, with crescents on the tops of them. Instead of a collar of esses, he wears a string of bubbles; his side is ornamented with a pointed star; and a circle, the emblem of perpetuity, is embroidered on the cloth under his throne. Episcopacy is working at a pump (a type I suppose of the Church) by the assistance of a bell-rope. The Bible is fastened to the handle of the pump, and out of the nose of it issues money that falls into a chest discriminated by an armorial escutcheon, containing a knife and fork, properly emblazoned, with a mitre by way of crest. The lid of the coffer leans against a pillar, that serves also to support a triple pile of cushions. Over the top of the pump (which is fashioned much like a steeple) is a weathercock on a small pyramid supported by balls; and below it, through a circular opening, a little bell appears to ring. Under the sacerdotal robe, a cloven foot peeps out. Law sustains a sword; and behind him appears a dagger thrust through the bottom of a sieve. The attendants on Monarchy are of various materials. The bodies and legs of such as seem designed for soldiers, are composed of circular fire-screens resembling shields. The trunks of the courtiers are large looking-glasses, the sconces with candles in them serving for hands and arms. The face of the chief of these is the reverse of a sixpence; and a key significantly appended to his sash, at once denotes his sex and office. Under the figure of law are a male and female modishly drest. Her head is a tea-pot, her neck a drinking-glass, and her body a fan half spread. On the oval that forms the countenance of her paramour, is a coat of arms with supporters. His right honourable legs are fan-sticks, and he seems in the act of courtship. How this couple are immediately connected with Law, is not very clearly pointed out. Hogarth, however, we may suppose, had planned some explanation of his hieroglyphics, as the letters a, b, c, d, e, f, g, are placed over some of them, and beneath others.
From the form of the perukes exhibited in this design, I should suppose it was made above forty years ago. Other circumstances in it need no decyphering.
* 54. The Master of the Vineyard. St. Matthew chap. xxi. v. 28. "Son, go work to-day in my Vineyard."
* 55. The London Infirmary for charitably relieving sick and diseased Manufacturers and Seamen in the Merchants' service, their Wives and Children. A blank certificate for Pupils in Surgery and Anatomy, printed on a half sheet, folio.
56. A ticket for the benefit of Spiller the player. He died in the year 1729.
In the plate before us, which possesses no small share of humour, poor Spiller is represented in a melancholy posture. His finances are weighed against his debts, and outweighed by them. His taylor's bill appears to be of great length, and many others for ale, gin, &c. are on the ground near him. A bailiff is clapping him on the shoulder—a prison is in sight—ladies and gentlemen are taking tickets, &c. This very uncommon and beautiful little print is, at present, found only in the collection of Mr. Ireland.
57. St. Mary's Chapel. Five at night. Several performers playing on different instruments. William Hogarth inv. G. Vandergucht sculpt.
This was certainly an ornament at the top of a ticket for a music-meeting. The name of Hogarth is affixed to it, and the whole design might have been his. I do not, however, believe it was so. A few of the figures appear to have been collected from his works by some other hand, rather than grouped by his own. Vandergucht too was so thoroughly a mannerist, and especially in small subjects, that he was rarely faithful to the expressions of countenance he undertook to trace on copper. There is no humour, and indeed little merit of any kind, in this performance. It has not hitherto been met with on the entire piece of paper to which it must originally have belonged.
A print called The Scotch Congregation, by Hogarth, is almost unique, on account of its extreme indecency. One copy of it was in a collection of his works belonging to Mr. Alexander of Edinburgh. He is said to have had it from Mrs. Hogarth. A second copy is reported to exist in the possession of another gentleman. No more impressions of it are known.
A correspondent at Dublin informs me, that in the collection of Dr. Hopkins of that city are the following seven prints by Hogarth:
1. The History of Witchcraft. Humbly dedicated to the Wise. Allegorically modernized. Part the First. Published according to act of Parliament. Hogarth inv. et sculpt.
Half sheet print. At one end, Witches attending the punishment of two human figures; at the other, several at their different occupations.
2. The History of Witchcraft. Part the Second. Published according to act of Parliament. Hogarth inv. et sculpt.
Same size as the former. Witches dancing; others at various amusements. These two prints contain a great variety of distorted figures.
3. A Suit of Law fits me better than a Suit of Clothes. Invented and engraved by W. H. and published pursuant to an Act of Parliament, 1740.
An upright half-sheet. A Man in embroidered clothes, his hat under his arm. A scroll in his left hand, inscribed, "I'll go to Law." Huntsmen, dogs, and horses in the back ground. Four lines in verse underneath.
Useful in all families. Invented and engraved by W. H. and published pursuant to an Act of Parliament, 1740.
4. The same man in a tattered garment in a wild country; a staff in his right hand, and a scroll in his left, inscribed, "To shew that I went to law, and got the better." Four lines at the bottom.
These two may be classed among his indifferent prints.
5. The Caledonian March and Embarkation. Hogarth invent. London, printed for T. Baldwin.
A number of Scotchmen embarking in the Caledonian Transport. Labels issuing from their mouths.
The Laird of the Posts, or the Bonnets exalted. Printed for T. Baldwin, London. Hogarth inv.
6. A Scotch Nobleman and his Friends taking possession of several posts, having kick'd down the former Possessors. Labels from their mouths too tedious to copy. A Lion on the fore-ground, hood-winked by a Scotch plaid.
Supposed to be printed for The London Magazine.
7. The Lion entranced. Printed for T. Baldwin, London. Hogarth inv. 1762.
A Lion in a Coffin. A plate on the cover, inscribed, "Leo Britanicus, Ob. An. 1762. Requiescat in pace." Attended by state mourners with labels as above. In one corner Hibernia supplicating for her Sister's interest.
A respect for the obliging communicator has induced me to publish this supposed addition to the foregoing catalogue of Hogarth's works. But, without ocular proof, I cannot receive as genuine any one of the plates enumerated. The name of our Artist has more than once been subscribed to the wretched productions of others; and a collector at Dublin must have had singular good fortune indeed, if he has met with seven authentic curiosities unknown to the most confidential friends of Hogarth, and the most industrious connoisseurs about London. I may add, that two, if not three, of the above-mentioned anti-ministeral pieces, appeared in 1762, the very year in which our artist was appointed Serjeant Painter. Till that period he is unsuspected of having engaged his pencil in the service of politicks; and T. Baldwin (perhaps a fictitious name) is not known to have been on any former occasion his publisher. So much for the probability of Hogarth's having ushered performances like these into the world.
Chance, and the kindness of my friends, have not enabled me to form a more accurate series of Hogarth's labours. Those of the collector, however, are still incomplete, unless he can furnish himself with a specimen of several other pieces, said, I think, to have been produced a little before our artist's marriage. I forbear to keep my readers in suspense on the occasion. Hogarth once taking up some plain ivory fishes that lay on his future wife's card-table, observed how much was wanting to render them natural representations. Having delivered this remark with becoming gravity, he proceeded to engrave scales, fins, &c. on each of them. A few impressions have been taken from these curiosities, which remain in Mrs. Hogarth's possession. As a button decorated by her husband has been received into the foregoing catalogue of his works, it can hardly be disgraced by this brief mention of the ornaments he bestowed on a counter.
There are three large volumes in quarto by Lavater, a minister at Zurich (with great numbers of plates), on Physiognomy. Among these are two containing several groups of figures from different prints of Hogarth, together with the portraits of Lord Lovat and Wilkes. For what particular purpose they are introduced, remains to me a secret.[1]
In "An Address of Thanks to the Broad Bottoms, for the good things they have done, and the evil things they have not done, since their elevation, 1745," is what the author calls "A curious emblematic Frontispiece, taken from an original painting of the ingenious Mr. H——th;" a palpable imposition.
Mr. Walpole, Anecdotes of Painting, Vol. IV. 63, observes, that "Hogarth drew the supposed funeral of Vanaken, attended by the painters he worked for, discovering every mark of grief and despair." To explain this passage, it should be added, that "he was employed by several considerable artists here, to draw the attitudes, and dress the figures in their pictures."
The merits of Hogarth, as an engraver, are inconsiderable. His hand was faithful to character, but had little acquaintance with the powers of light and shade. In some of his early prints he was an assiduous imitator of Callot, but deviated at last into a manner of his own, which suffers much by comparison with that of his coadjutors, Ravenet and Sullivan. In the pieces finished by these masters of their art, there is a clearness that Hogarth could never reach. His strokes sometimes look as if fortuitously disposed, and sometimes confusedly thwart each other in almost every possible direction. What he wanted in skill, he strove to make up in labour; but the result of it was a universal haze and indistinctness, that, by excluding force and transparency, has rendered several of his larger plates less captivating than they would have been, had he entrusted the sole execution of them to either of the artists already mentioned. His smaller etchings, indeed, such as The Laughing Pit, &c. cannot receive too much commendation.
Mr. Walpole has justly observed, that "many wretched prints came out to ridicule" the Analysis of Beauty. He might have added, that no small number of the same quality were produced immediately after the Times made its appearance. I wish it had been in my power to have afforded my readers a complete list of these performances, that as little as possible might have been wanting to the history of poor Hogarth's first and second persecution. Such a catalogue, however, not being necessary to the explanation of his works, it is with the less regret omitted.[2]
The scarceness of the good impressions of Hogarth's larger works is in great measure owing to their having been pasted on canvas or boards, to be framed and glazed for furniture. There were few people who collected his prints for any other purpose at their first appearance. The majority of these sets being hung up in London houses, have been utterly spoiled by smoke. Since foreigners have learned the value of the same performances, they have also been exported in considerable numbers. Wherever a taste for the fine arts has prevailed, the works of this great master are to be found. Messieurs Torré have frequent commissions to send them into Italy. I am credibly informed that the Empress of Russia has expressed uncommon pleasure in examining such genuine representations of English manners; and I have seen a set of cups and saucers with The Harlot's Progress painted on them in China about the year 1739.
Of all such engravings as are Mrs. Hogarth's property, the later impressions continue selling on terms specified many years ago in her printed catalogue, which the reader will find at the end of this pamphlet. The few elder proofs that remain undisposed of, may be likewise had from her agent at an advance of price. As to the plates which our artist had not retained as his own property, when any of these desiderata are found (perhaps in a state of corrosion), they are immediately vamped up, and impressions from them are offered to sale, at three, four, or five times their original value. They are also stained to give them the appearance of age; and on these occasions we are confidently assured, that only a few copies, which had lurked in some obscure warehouse, or neglected port-feuille, had been just discovered. This information is usually accompanied by sober advice to buy while we may, as the vender has scarce a moment free from the repeated solicitations of the nobility and gentry, whom he always wishes to oblige, still affording that preference to the connoisseur which he withholds from the less enlightened purchaser. It is scarce needful to observe, that no man ever visited the shops of these polite dealers, without soon fancying himself entitled to the more creditable of the aforesaid distinctions. Thus becoming a dupe to his own vanity, as well as to the artifice of the tradesman, he has speedily the mortification to find his supposed rarities are to be met with in every collection, and not long afterwards on every stall. The caution may not prove useless to those who are ambitious to assemble the works of Hogarth. Such a pursuit needs no apology; for sure, of all his fraternity, whether ancient or modern, he bent the keenest eye on the follies and vices of mankind, and expressed them with a degree of variety and force, which it would be vain to seek among the satiric compositions of any other painters. In short, what is observed by Hamlet concerning a player's office, may, with some few exceptions, be applied to the designs of Hogarth. "Their end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold as 'twere the mirror up to nature; to shew virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his own form and pressure."
I may add, that, since the appearance of Mr. Walpole's Catalogue, a disposition to attribute several anonymous plates, on ludicrous subjects, to Hogarth, has betrayed itself in more than a single instance:[3] a supposition has also prevailed that there was a time when Hogarth had the whole field of satire to himself, and we could boast of no designers whose performances could be mistaken for his own. The latter notion is undoubtedly true, if real judges are to decide; and yet many prints, very slightly impregnated with humour, continue to be ascribed to him. It should therefore be observed, that, at the same period, Bickham, Vandergucht, Boitard, Gravelot, Laguerre the younger, &c. were occasionally publishing satirical Sketches, and engraving laughable frontispieces for books and pamphlets. To many of these, for various reasons, they forbore to set their names; and we have at present collectors, who, to obtain the credit of having made discoveries, are willing to adopt such performances as the genuine effusions of Hogarth, although every way beneath his talents, and repugnant to his style of engraving. Perhaps also the names of other painters and designers have been occasionally obliterated, to countenance the same fallacy. Copies likewise have been palmed on the unwary for originals. "Therefore" (gentle reader) for once be content to follow the advice of Pistol, "Go clear thy chrystals, and Caveto be thy counsellor." For if all such fatherless engravings, as the vanity of some, and the interest, or the ignorance, of others, would introduce among the works of our artist, were to be admitted, when would the collector's labour and expence be at end?
Among other anonymous plates ascribed to Hogarth, but omitted in the present catalogue, is the following, A living Dog is better than a dead Lion, or, The Vanity of human Glory; a design for the Monument of General Wolfe, 1760. A medallion of our hero appears on the side of a pyramid. On the base of it is the well known speech of Shakespeare's Brutus,
Set Honour in one hand, and Death in t' other,
And I will look on both indifferent:
And let the Gods so speed me, as I love
The name of Honour more than I fear Death.
At the bottom a dying Lion is extended, while a Dog (with Minden on his collar, and Honour's a jest, &c. issuing from his mouth) is at once lifting up his leg against the noble brute, and treading on a wreath of laurel. Here lies Honour, is also written on the side of the expiring animal. I have since been assured that this print was by another artist, whose name I omit to mention, because perhaps he would wish it, on the present occasion, suppressed.
[1] This book, I am told, is now translated into French.
[2] One of these productions, however, should be singled from the rest. The print, entitled The Connoisseurs, was suspected to be a work of Hogarth himself. It is placed with some of his other undisputed designs in the back-ground of The Author run Mad (which is known to be one of Mr. Sandby's performances), and has the following reference—"A. his own Dunciad."
[3] Thus the frontispiece to Taste, designed, if not etched by Worsdale (for whose benefit this dramatic piece was performed), and Sawney in the Bog-house, an anonymous satire on the Scotch, that made its appearance near forty years ago, and was revived during the administration of Lord Bute, are at present imputed to our artist, whose name is already engraved at the bottom of the latter.
[POSTSCRIPT.]
The Author of this pamphlet, being convinced that, in spite of all his care and attention, some errors may still be found in his catalogue, list of variations, &c. will think himself highly obliged by any gentlemen who will point them out, and enable him to correct them. Such favours shall be gratefully acknowledged, if the present rude Essay towards an account of Hogarth's different performances should happen to reach another edition.
As in consequence of the extraordinary prices lately paid for the collected works of this great master, certain dealers, &c. are supposed to be assembling as many of his prints as they can meet with,—binding them up in pompous volumes,—writing "fine old impressions" either over or under them—specifying the precise sums pretended to have been disbursed for several of them (perhaps a guinea for a three shilling article)—preparing to offer a few rare trifles to sale, overloaded with a heap of wretched proofs from our artist's more capital performances;—exhibiting imperfect suites of such as are cut out of books; and intending to station puffers at future auctions, whose office will be to intimate they have received commissions to bid up as far as such or such an amount (i. e. the sum under which the concealed proprietor resolves not to part with his ware), &c. &c. it is hoped the reader will excuse a few parting words of admonition. Perhaps it may be in the power of Mrs. Hogarth to select a few sets from such of her husband's pieces as have remained in her own custody from the hour of their publication. Let the multitude, who of course cannot be supplied with these, become their own collectors. Even ignorance is a more trusty guide than professional artifice. It may be urged, indeed, that the proportionate value of impressions[1] can be ascertained only by those who have examined many of them in their various states, with diligence and acuteness. But surely to qualify ourselves for estimating the merit of the curiosities we are ambitious to purchase, is wiser than to rely altogether on the information of people whose interest is commonly the reverse of our own. Let it also be remembered, that the least precious of all Hogarth's productions are by far the scarcest; and that when, at an immoderate expence, we have procured impressions from tankards ornamented by him, or armorial ensigns engraved for the books of his customers, we shall be found at last to have added nothing to his fame, or the entertaining quality of our own collections. By such means, however, we may open a door to imposition. A work like The Harlot's Progress will certainly remain unimitated as well as inimitable; but it is in the power of every bungler to create fresh coats of arms, or shop bills with our artist's name subscribed to them: and wherein will the Lion or Griffin of Hogarth be discovered to excell the same representation by a meaner hand? A crafty selection of paper, and a slight attention to chronology and choice of subjects, with the aid of the hot-press, may, in the end, prove an overmatch for the sagacity of the ablest connoisseur. A single detection of such a forgery would at least give rise to suspicions that might operate even where no fallacy had been designed. How many fraudulent imitations of the smaller works of Rembrandt are known to have been circulated with success!—But it may be asked, perhaps, from what source the author of this pamphlet derives his knowledge of such transactions. His answer is, from the majority of collectors whom he has talked with in consequence of his present undertaking.
He ought not, however, to conclude without observing, that several genuine works of Hogarth yet remain to be engraved. He is happy also to add that a young artist, every way qualified for such a task, has already published a few of these by subscription.
J. N.
[1] Prints have, of late years, been judiciously rated according to the quality of their impressions. But the very term impression, as applied to copper-plates, perhaps is a novelty among us. If we refer to the earliest and most valuable assemblage of portraits (such as that catalogued by Ames, afterwards purchased by Dr. Fothergill, and lately sold to Mr. Thane), we shall have little reason to suppose any regard was once paid to a particular of so much importance. As fast as heads were met with, they were indiscriminately received; and the faintest proofs do not appear to have been excluded at a time when the strongest might easily have been procured. In consequence of an àmás so carelessly formed, the volumes already mentioned, were found to display alternately the most beautiful and the most defective specimens of the graphic art.
J. N. had once thoughts of adding a list of the copies made from the works of Hogarth; but finding them to be numerous, beyond expectation, has desisted from a task he could not easily accomplish. This pursuit, however, has enabled him to suggest yet another caution to his readers. Some of the early invaders of Hogarth's property were less audacious than the rest; and, forbearing to make exact imitations of his plates, were content with only borrowing particular circumstances from each of them, which they worked up into a similar fable. A set of The Rake's Progress, in which the figures were thus disguised and differently grouped, has been lately found. But since the rage of collection broke out with its present vehemence, those dealers who have met with any such diversified copies, have been desirous of putting them off either as the first thoughts of Hogarth, or as the inferior productions of elder artists on whose designs he had improved. There, is also a very small set of The Rake's Progress, contrived and executed with the varieties already mentioned; and even this has been offered to sale under the former of these descriptions. Thus, as Shakspeare says, While we shut the gate upon one imposition, another knocks at the door.
It may not be impertinent to conclude these cautions with another notice for the benefit of unexperienced collectors, who in their choice of prints usually prefer the blackest. The earliest copies of Hogarth's works are often fainter than such as have been retouched. The excellence of the former consists in clearness as well as strength; but strength only is the characteristic of the latter. The first and third copies of The Harlot's Progress will abundantly illustrate my remark, which, however, is confined to good impressions of the plates in either state; for some are now to be met with that no more possess the recommendation of transparency than that of force. I may add, that when plates are much worn, it is customary to load them with a double quantity of colour, that their weakness, as far as possible, may escape the eye of the purchaser. This practice the copper-plate printers facetiously entitle—coaxing; and, by the aid of it, the deeper strokes of the graver which are not wholly obliterated, become clogged with ink, while every finer trace, which was of a nature less permanent, is no longer visible. Thus in the modern proofs of Garrick in King Richard III. the armour, tent, and habit, continue to have considerable strength, though the delicate markings in the face, and the shadows on the inside of the hand, have long since disappeared. Yet this print, even in its faintest state, is still preferable to such smutty impositions as have been recently described. The modern impressions of The Fair, and The March to Finchley, will yet more forcibly illustrate the same remark.
To the original paintings of Hogarth already enumerated may be added a Breakfast-piece, preserved in Hill-Street, Berkeley-Square, in the possession of William Strode, Esq; of Northaw, Herts. It contains portraits of his father the late William Strode, Esq; his mother Lady Anne (who was sister to the late Earl of Salisbury), Colonel Strode, and Dr. Arthur Smith (afterwards Archbishop of Dublin).
[ADDITION.]
Four Times of the Day, p. [250].
It should have been observed, that the third of these plates was engraved by Baron, the figure of the girl excepted, which, being an after-thought, was added by our artist's own hand.
[APPENDIX.]
N° 1. [See p. [23].]
The following letter, printed in The Public Advertiser soon after the first edition of the present work made its appearance, may possibly contain some authentic particulars of the early life of the famous Monsieur St. André. Mr. Woodfall's ingenious correspondent does not, however, dispose me to retract a syllable of what is advanced in the text; for he fails throughout in his attempts to exculpate our hero from any one of the charges alledged against him. On the contrary, he confirms, with additions, a considerable part of them, and strives only to evade or overwhelm the rest by studied amplifications of the little good which industrious partiality could pick out of its favourite character. I shall now subjoin his epistle, with a few unconnected remarks appended to it. A rambling performance must apologize for a desultory refutation.
"Sir,
"The entertaining author of the last biography of the admirable Hogarth, in the excess of commendation of a particular risible subject for his pencil, has written too disadvantageously of the late Mr. St. André. One who knew him intimately (but was never under the smallest obligation to him) for the last twenty years of his life, and has learned the tradition of his earlier conduct seemingly better than the editor of the article in question, takes the liberty to give a more favourable idea of him, and without intending to enter into a controversy with this agreeable Collector of Anecdotes, to vindicate this notorious man, who must be allowed to have been such; but it is to be hoped in the milder sense Lord Clarendon often or always uses the epithet. The making a subject of Mr. St. André is therefore merely accidental. The writer expects to derive no praise from exhibiting that person as the Hero of a page. He thinks it is only doing justice (for the Dead deserve justice as well as the Living) when he draws his pen against some very injurious insinuations, thrown out with more inadvertence and at a venture than in malice, against the memory of an acquaintance and of a foreigner (to whom perhaps more mercy is due than to a native), who is more roughly handled than he appears to deserve.
"Mr. Nathaniel St. André came over, or rather was brought over, very early from Switzerland, his native country, in the train of a Mendez, or Salvadore, or some Jewish family. Next to his countryman Heidegger, he became the most considerable person that has been imported from thence. He probably arrived in England in no better than a menial station. Possibly his family was not originally obscure, for he has been heard to declare, that he had a rightful claim to a title, but it was not worth while to take it up so late in life. He had undoubtedly all the qualifications of a Swiss. He talked French in all its provincial dialects, and superintended the press, if the information is to be depended upon, and perhaps taught it, as his sister did at Chelsea boarding-school. He was early initiated in music, for he played upon some musical instrument as soon as he was old enough to handle one, to entertain his benefactors. He had the good fortune to be placed by them with a surgeon of eminence, and became very skilful in his profession. His duty and gratitude to his father, whom he maintained when he was no longer able to maintain himself, was exemplary and deserving of high commendation. Let this charity cover a multitude of his sins! His great thirst for anatomical knowledge (for which he became afterwards so famous as to have books dedicated to him on that subject), and his unwearied application, soon made him so compleat an anatomist, that he undertook to read public lectures (and he was the first in London who read any), which gave general satisfaction. The most ingenious and considerable men in the kingdom became his pupils. Dr. Hunter, now at the head of his profession, speaks highly of his predecessor, and considers him (if the information is genuine) as the wonder of his time. He continued his love of anatomy to the last, and left noble preparations behind him, which he was continually improving. The time of his introduction into Mr. Molyneux's family is not known to the writer of this account. Whether anatomy, surgery, knowledge, or music, or his performance on the Viol de Gambo, on which he was the greatest master, got him the intimacy with Mr. Molyneux, is not easy to determine. Certain it is, that he attended his friend in his last illness, who died of a dangerous disorder (but not under his hands), which Mr. Molyneux is said to have pronounced, from the first, would be fatal. Scandal, and Mr. Pope's satirical half-line, talked afterwards of 'The Poisoning Wife.' She, perhaps, was in too great a hurry, as the report ran, in marrying when she did, according to the practised delicacy of her sex, and her very high quality. The unlucky business in which one Howard, a surgeon at Guildford, involved him, who was the projector, or accessary of the impudent imposture of Mary Tofts, alias the Rabbit-woman of Godalmin, occasioned him to become the talk and ridicule of the whole kingdom. The report made by St. André, and others, induced many inconsiderately to take it for a reality. The public horror was so great, that the rent of rabbit-warrens sunk to nothing; and nobody, till the delusion was over, presumed to eat a rabbit. The credulous Whiston believed the story (for to some people every thing is credible that comes from a credible witness), and wrote a pamphlet, to prove this monstrous conception to be the exact completion of an old prophecy in Esdras. The part St. André acted in this affair ruined his interest at Court, where he had before been so great a favourite with King George I. that he presented him with a sword which he wore himself. Now, on his return out of the country, he met with a personal affront, and never went to Court again. But he continued anatomist to the Royal Houshold to his dying day, though he never took the salary. He probably was imposed upon in this matter. And has it not been the lot of men, in intellectual accomplishments vastly above his, such as Boyle, for instance, a man infinitely his superior, to be over-reached and misled? He took up the pen on the occasion (and it was not the first time, for he wrote some years before a bantering pamphlet on Dr. Mead), which could at best but demonstrate his sincerity, but exposed the weakness of his judgement, on that case. It had been insinuated he adopted this scheme, to ruin some persons of his own profession. If he had a mind to make an experiment upon the national belief, and to tamper with their willingness to swallow any absurdity (which a certain nobleman [Duke of Montagu] ventured to do, in the affair of a man who undertook to jump into a quart bottle), he was deservedly punished with contempt. Swift (according to Whiston), and perhaps Arbuthnot, exercised their pens upon him. The cheat was soon discovered, and rabbits began to make their appearance again at table as usual. But they were not at his own table, nor made a dish, in any form of cookery, at that of his friends. Perhaps they imagined that the name or sight of that animal might be as offensive to him, as the mention of Formosa is said to have been to Psalmanazar. It is told, that, on his asking for some parsly of a market-woman of Southampton, and demanding why she had not more to sell, she, in a banter, assured him, 'That his rabbits had eat it up.' The fortune he acquired by marrying into a noble family (though it set all the lady's relations against him, and occasioned her being dismissed from her attendance on Queen Caroline) was a sufficient compensation for the laughter or censure of the publick. His high spirit and confidence in himself made him superior to all clamor. So that people did but talk about him, he seldom seemed to care what they talked against him. And yet he had the fortitude to bring an action for defamation in Westminster-Hall against a certain doctor in divinity, and got the better of his adversary. He was not supposed, in the judgement of the wiser and more candid part of mankind, to have contributed, by any chirurgical administration, to the death of his friend Mr. Molyneux, nor to have set up the imposture at Godalmin. Though he was disgraced at Court, he was not abandoned by all his noble friends. The great Lord Peterborough, who was his patron and patient long before he went to Lisbon, entertained a very high opinion of him to the last. His capacity in all kinds, the reception he gave to his table and his garden, with his liberality to the infirm and distressed, made him visited by persons of the highest quality, and by all strangers and foreigners. He did not continue to enjoy the great fortune his marriage is supposed to have brought him, to the end of his life, for a great part went from him on the death of Lady Betty. He by no means left so much property behind him as to have it said, he died rich. His profession as a surgeon, in a reasonable terms of years, would probably have put more money into his pocket than fell in the golden shower so inauspiciously into his lap, and have given him plenty, without envy or blame. He was turned of ninety-six when he died; and though subject to the gout, of which he used to get the better by blisters upon his knees, and by rigid abstinence, yet, when he took to his bed (where he said he should not lie long), and permitted a physician to be called in to him, he cannot be said to have died of any disease. In one sum of generosity, he gave the celebrated Geminiani three hundred pounds, to help him to discharge his incumbrances, and to end his days in comfort. The strength and agility of his body were great, and are well known. He was famous for his skill in fencing, in riding the great horse, and for running and jumping, in his younger days. He, at one time, was able to play the game at chess with the best masters. After a slight instruction at Slaughter's coffee-house, he did not rest till, in the course of two nights sitting up, he was able to vanquish his instructor. He was so earnest in acquiring knowledge, that he whimsically, as he told the story, cut off his eye-lashes, that he might not sleep till he arrived at what he wanted. His face was muscular and fierce. One of his eyes, to external appearance, seemed to be a mass of obscurity (as he expressed it of Handel's, when he became stark-blind), at least it had not the uncommon vivacity of the other. His language was full of energy, but loaded with foreign idioms. His conversation was seasoned sufficiently with satire and irony, which he was not afraid to display, though he ought never to have forgot that he was once a proper subject for it. He built; he planted; he had almost 'from the Cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop that groweth upon the wall,' in his hot-house, green-house, and garden. If he was not deep in every art and science (for even his long life was not sufficient for universal attainment), he cannot be reckoned to have been ignorant of any thing. He was admired for his knowledge in architecture, in gardening, and in botany, by those who should have been above flattery. But praise, from whatever quarter it comes, is of an intoxicating nature. Those who found out that he loved praise, took care he should have enough of it. He kept a list of the wretched and the indigent, whom he constantly maintained; and their names might be written alphabetically. The poor of Southampton know they have lost their best friend. Call it, reader, ostentation or vanity, if you will; but till you know it did not proceed from his goodness of heart, this tributary pen considers his giving away his money to relieve the necessitous, as a spark of the spirit of the Man of Ross or the Man of Bath. He was all his life too much addicted to amours, and sometimes with the lower part of the sex. His conversation, which he was always able to make entertaining and instructive, was too often tinctured with double entendre (a vice that increases with age), but hardly ever with prophaneness. He may be thought to have copied Hermippus, and to have considered women as the prolongers of life. How far he was made a dupe by any of them at last, is not necessary for relation. He died, as he lived, without fear; for to his standers-by he gave no sign of a ruffled mind, or a disturbed conscience, in his last moments.
"If the preceding memoir of St. André had not been composed entirely from memory (a faculty which, like the sieve of the Danaids, is apt to lose as much as it receives), and had not been conveyed to the press with so much precipitancy, the writer, by a second recollection, might have made supplementary anecdotes less necessary. Whilst St. André was basking in the sun-shine of public favour in Northumberland-Court, near Charing-Cross, under pretence of being wanted in his profession at some house in the neighbourhood, he was hurried through so many passages, and up and down so many stair-cases, that he did not know where he was, nor what the untoward scene was to end in, till the horrid conclusion presented itself, of which he published an extraordinary account in The Gazette of Feb. 23, 1724-5, no less than of his being poisoned, and of his more extraordinary recovery. Such uncommon men must be visited through life with uncommon incidents. The bowl of poison must have been for ever present to his imagination. Socrates himself could not expect more certain destruction from the noxious draught he was forced to take down, than seemed inevitable to St. André. Nay, a double death seems to have threatened him. Probably it was not any public or private virtue for which Socrates was famous, and which occasioned him to suffer, that endangered our hero's life. His constitution was so good, that he got the better of the internal potion. The truth and circumstances of the story could only be known to himself, who authenticated it upon oath. His narrative partakes of the marvellous; and the reader of July, 1781, is left in total ignorance of the actor, and the provocation to such a barbarous termination. His case was reported, and he was attended, by the ablest of the faculty: and the Privy Council issued a reward of two hundred pounds towards a discovery. A note in the second supplemental volume of Swift informed the writer of this sketch, a day or two ago (who takes to himself the reproof of Prior, 'Authors, before they write, should read!'), that St. André was convinced he had been imposed upon respecting the woman of Godalmin, and that he apologised handsomely to the public in an advertisement, dated Dec. 8, 1726.—'He's half absolv'd, who has confest.'—In the autumn, before the heat of the town-talk on this affair was over, he was sent for to attend Mr. Pope, who, on his return home from Dawley in Lord Bolingbroke's coach and six, was overturned in a river, and lost the use of two fingers of his left-hand (happy for the lovers of poetry they were not the servants of the right one!), and gave him assurance, that none of the broken glass was likely to be fatal to him. It is highly improbable, that Pope and Bolingbroke would have suffered St. André to have come near them, if he had been branded as a cheat and an impostor. He died in March, 1776, having survived all his contemporary enemies, and, which is the consequence of living long, most of his ancient friends. Such men do not arise every day for our censure or our applause; to gratify the pen or the pencil of character or caricature. He may be considered, as Voltaire pronounces of Charles the Twelfth, an extraordinary, rather than a great man, and fitter to be admired than imitated.
"Impartial."
In the first place, I avow that the epithet notorious was not meant to be employed in the milder sense of Lord Clarendon. Had I undertaken to compile the life of a man eminent for virtue, I should have been happy to have borrowed the softer application of the aforesaid term from our noble historian. But having engaged to delineate a mere impostor's character, there is greater propriety in adopting the disputed word with that constant signification affixed to it by the biographers of Bet Canning, or Fanny the Phantom of Cock Lane.—I shall absolve myself no farther from the charge of "malice," than by observing that there are always people who think somewhat much too rough has been said of Chartres.
The dead, declares our apologist, deserve justice as well as their survivors. This is an uncontested truth; nor will the precept be violated by me. I may observe however, with impunity, that the interests of the living, for whose sake a line of separation between good and bad characters is drawn, should be consulted, rather than the memories of the flagitious, who can no longer be affected by human praise or censure, should be spared.
Our apologist next assures us, that perhaps more tenderness is due to a foreigner than to a native. The boasted amor patriæ is not very conspicuous in this remark, which indeed was dropped, to as little purpose, by a learned counsel on the trial of the French Spy who was lately executed.
"Next to his countryman Heidegger," adds our apologist, "Mr. St. André became the most considerable person that has been imported from Switzerland." To judge of the comparative value of the latter, we must estimate the merits of the former. Heidegger is known to us only by the uncommon ugliness of his visage, and his adroitness in conducting Operas and Masquerades. If St. André is to be regarded as a person still less considerable than Heidegger, can his consequence be rated very high?
That St. André arrived here in a menial station, is not improbable. The servility of his youth afforded a natural introduction to the insolence of his riper years. He was indeed (if I am not mis-informed) of the same family with the fencing and dancing-master whom Dryden has immortalized in MacFlecknoe;
"St. André's feet ne'er kept more equal time;"[1]
and was intended for the same professions; a circumstance often hinted at by his opponents during the Rabbit controversy. Having been thus early instructed in the management of the foil and kitt, no marvel that he so often prated about the art of defence, or that "his gratitude to his benefactors" broke out in the language of a minuet or a rigadoon.
That he became famous enough in his profession to have anatomical works occasionally dedicated to him, will easily obtain credit among our apologist's readers; for many of them must have seen a book on surgery inscribed to Dr. Rock, a political poem addressed to Buckhorse, and a treatise on religion sheltering itself under the patronage of the late Lord Baltimore. St. André, however, was not the earliest reader of anatomical lectures in London. Bussiere, the surgeon who attended Guiscard (the assassin of Harley), was our hero's predecessor in this office, and I am told even he was not the first who offered public instructions to the students at our hospitals. Dr. Hunter, who has been applied to for intelligence on this occasion, declares that he never described St. André as "the wonder of his time," but as a man who had passed through no regular course of study, and was competent only in the article of injections, a task as happily suited to minute abilities as to those of a larger grasp.
Æmilium circà ludum faber imus et ungues
Exprimet, et molles imitabitur ære capillos.
The art of pushing fluids through the vessels was at that period a secret most scrupulously kept by the few who were in possession of it, so that a great show might be made at the expence of little real knowledge. I am also informed, that St. André, like the workman described by Horace, had no general comprehension of any subject, but was unable to have put two propositions together:—that he neither extended the bounds of the chirurgical art by discoveries, nor performed any extraordinary cures; and, boasting somewhere that he had detected vessels in the cuticle or scarf-skin, a foreigner of eminence in the same profession offered (through the medium of a printed book) to lay him a wager of it, a challenge which he prudently declined. I am also told, that when solicited to exhibit his preparations, he always declared the majority of them to have been destroyed in a fire. What remain, I am instructed to add, deserve little or no commendation. Thus, on enquiry, sinks our "enthusiast in anatomy" down to a frigid dabbler in the science; while his "noble preparations, which he was continually improving," dwindle into minutiæ of scarce any value.
Though the dreadful crime, which is indistinctly mentioned in the text of the foregoing pamphlet, has been alluded to with less reserve by the apologist of St. André, it shall be explained no further on the present occasion. Many are the common avenues to death; and why should we point out with minuteness such as we hope will never be explored again? Till I perused the defence so often referred to, I had not even suspected that the "poisoning wife"[2] bore the least allusion to any particular circumstance on the records of criminal gallantry; nor, without stronger proofs than are furnished by this expression (perhaps a random one), shall I be willing to allot the smallest share of blame to the Lady, such alone excepted as must unavoidably arise from her over-hasty marriage, which was solemnized at Hesson near Hounslow in Middlesex, on the 27th of May, 1730. This act, however, as well as her derogation from rank, being mere offences against human customs, are cognizable only upon earth.—By "the wiser and more candid part of mankind," who suspected no harm throughout St. André's conduct in this affair, I suppose our apologist means any set of people who had imbibed prejudices similar to his own, and thought and spoke about his hero with equal partiality and tenderness. But the Memoir on which these remarks are founded, proves at least that what J. N. had hinted concerning the death of Mr. Molyneux,[3] was of no recent invention. So far from it indeed, that St. André was openly taxed with having been the sole cause of it, in a public news-paper (I think one of the Gazetteers), by the Rev. Dr. Madden, the celebrated Irish patriot, who subscribed his name to his advertisement. It is related (I know not how truly) that on this account our hero prosecuted and "got the better of his adversary," whose accusation was unsupported by such proofs as the strictness of law requires. How many culprits, about whose guilt neither judge nor jury entertains the smallest scruple, escape with equal triumph through a similar defect of evidence! I may add, that so serious a charge would never have been lightly made by a divine of Dr. Madden's rank and character.
All that is said on the subject of family honours to which St. André was entitled, his gratitude to his father, what he gave to the celebrated Geminiani "in one sum of generosity," must be admitted with caution, for truth was by no means the characteristic of our hero's narrations.[4] These circumstances therefore may be regarded as gasconades of his own. The author of the defence pretends not to have received any part of his information from St. André's countrymen or contemporaries; but, on the contrary, confesses that both his early friends and enemies had long been dead.
The affair of the Rabbit-breeder has no need of further illustration. Several ballads, pamphlets, prints, &c. on the subject, bear abundant testimony to St. André's merits throughout that business, as well as to the final opinion entertained of him by his contemporaries, after Cheselden, by order of Queen Caroline, had assisted in discovering the deceit. Her Majesty was urged to this step by finding the plausibility of our hero had imposed on the King, and that some of the pregnant ladies about her own person began to express their fears of bringing into the world an unnatural progeny.—If Mr. Boyle was occasionally misled, his errors were soon absorbed in the blaze of his moral and literary excellence. St. André's blunder, alas! had no such happy means of redemption. His credulity indeed was not confined to this single transaction. The following is a well-attested story—Two gentlemen at Southampton, who felt an inclination to banter him, broke a nutshell asunder, filled the cavity with a large swan-shot, and closed up the whole with glue so nicely that no marks of separation could be detected. This curiosity, as they were walking with St. André, one of them pretended to pick up, admiring it as a nut uncommonly heavy as well as beautiful. Our hero swallowed the bait, dissected the subject, discovered the lead, but not the imposition, and then proceeded to account philosophically for so strange a phænomenon. The merry wags could scarce restrain their laughter, and soon quitted his company to enjoy the success of a stratagem they had so adroitly practised on his ignorance and gullibility.
Were there any colour for supposing he had patronized the fraud relative to Mary Tofts, with design to ruin others of his profession (an insinuation to his discredit, which the foregoing pamphlet had not furnished), it was but just that he should fall by his own malevolence and treachery. From the imputation of a scheme resembling that contrived by the Duke of Montagu, his want of equal wit will sufficiently absolve him.
That rabbits never were permitted to appear at any table where he dined, is a strong mark of the adulation paid to him by his entertainers. I hope, for similar reasons, had he been seized with his last illness in London (that his organs of hearing might escape an equal shock), his attendants would not have called any physician named Warren to his bed-side, summoned an attorney from Coney Court Grays Inn to have made his will, or sent for the Rev. Mr. Bunny to pray by him. The banishment of rabbits, however, from a neighbourhood that affords them in the highest perfection, was a circumstance that might as justly have been complained of, as Pythagoras's prohibition of beans, had it been published in Leicestershire. I heartily wish that the circumstantial author of the preceding epistle, to relieve any doubts by which futurity may be perplexed, had informed us whether St. André was an eater of toasted cheese, or not; and if it was never asked for by its common title of a Welch Rabbit within his hearing.
That he wrote any thing, unless by proxy, or with much assistance, may reasonably be doubted; for the pamphlets that pass under his name are divested of those foreign idioms that marked his conversation. Indeed, if I may believe some specimens of his private correspondence, he was unacquainted with the very orthography of our language. The insolence of this shallow Switzer's attempt to banter Mead, we may imagine, was treated with contempt, as the work described has not been handed down to us; and few tracts are permitted to be scarce for any other reason than because they are worthless.
It is next remarked by our apologist, that St. André's "confidence, &c. made him superior to all clamour; and so that people did but talk about him, he did not seem to care what they talked against him." This is no more, in other language, than to declare that his impudence and vanity were well proportioned to each other, and that a bad character was to him as welcome as a good one. He did not, it seems, join in the Poet's prayer,
Grant me an honest fame, or grant me none!
but was of opinion, as his apologist likewise admits, that wealth was an ample counterbalance to the loss of reputation.—That he might evade accusation (as I have already observed) in one particular instance, and therefore recover damages, is no proof of his innocence, that his general conduct would admit of defence, or that much of the manifold censure passed upon him had no foundation.
How Lord Peterborough happened to become his patron, &c. may be accounted for without any great degree of credit to either party. His lordship (as Lord Orrery observes) "in his private life and conduct differed from most men;" and, having often capricious disputes with the court, was sure to favour those who, like St. André, had been dismissed from its service. Our hero's musical talents, indeed, if they were such as they have been represented, might procure him access to his lordship and many other noble adepts in the sublime and useful science of harmony. The lovers of a tune urge no severe enquiries concerning the heart of a fidler. If he be a mercenary, while he teaches female pupils, he is watched; and, if he performs in concerts, he is paid. If above pecuniary gratifications, he is rewarded with hyperbolical compliments. Articulate for inarticulate sounds is ample retribution.
His defender adds, that he was visited by all strangers and foreigners. It will be supposed then that his house was never free from company. May we not rather think, that if he was at any time sought after by these peregrine worthies, &c. it was because the keepers of inns and mistresses of boarding-houses had been instructed to disseminate attractive tales of his "capacity in all kinds," his curiosities and good dinners? Besides, all foreigners who have arrived in England have not travelled to Southampton, and consequently could not have seen St. André, who for upwards of the last twenty years of his life had resided only there. It is nearer the truth to say, that not a single Frenchman, &c. in fifty thousand, ever heard of his name.
That "his profession as a surgeon, in a reasonable term of years, would probably have put more money in his pocket" than he gained by his union with Lady Betty Molyneux (i. e. £30,000. a sum that elevated him into a state little short of madness), I cannot believe. The blast his reputation had received respecting the business at Godalming, being seconded by his expulsion from court, he must have felt his business on the decline. Indeed, I am told that he staid long enough in town to try the experiment. Marriage therefore might have been his dernier resort.
The exaggerations of this impostor's generosity and accomplishments, which are next brought forward by his panegyrist with no small degree of pomp, are such as we may suppose himself would have furnished, had he undertaken, like the Chevalier Taylor, to compile his own memoirs. The majority of circumstances collected for the purpose of proving him to have been
Grammaticus, rhetor, geometres, pictor, aliptes,
Augur, schænobates, medicus, magus,
could only have been derived from those very flattering testimonials to his merits which he was always ready to exhibit on the slightest encouragement. Those who were content to admit so partial an estimate of his abilities, &c. found it necessary to express their belief that he could have beaten Hercules at quoits, played a better fiddle than Apollo, out-witted Mercury, disarmed the God of War, and forged such chemic thunders, that, compared with the produce of our hero's laboratory, the bolts of Jove were no louder than a pot-gun. So far was he from being deficient in commendation of his own talents, that he thought his very furniture might claim a proportionable extravagance of praise. He was possessed of some foreign tapestry which he was proud on all occasions to display. But the eulogiums of others, lavish as they might be, fell considerably short of his own, so that the spectator retired with disgust from an object which the excessive vanity of its owner would not permit to be enjoyed without the most frequent and nauseous intrusions of self-congratulation.
As to the history of his eye-lashes, which he sacrificed to vigilance, and his sudden proficiency in the very difficult game of chess (provided his instructor, whom he afterwards vanquished, was a skilful one) credat Judæus Apella.—That his language did not want energy, may more easily be allowed, for force is the characteristic of vulgar phraseology. Conceits, expressed with much vigour, are current among sailors; and such nervous denunciations of revenge may occasionally be heard at Billingsgate, as might emulate the ravings of Dryden's Maximin. No man will be hardy enough to assert that the figure, manners, and language, of St. André, were those of a gentleman.
If one of his eyes was a "mass of obscurity" (notwithstanding the other, like that of Lady Pentweazle's Great Aunt, might be a piercer), perhaps he ought to have been sparing of his satire on the personal disadvantages of his acquaintance. Yet, the last time my informant saw him was at the Theatre at Southampton, where, sitting near a gentleman and lady not remarkable for handsome faces, he had the modesty to express a doubt (and in a voice sufficiently audible) which of the two would furnish the most comic mask.
Mr. St. André's apologist observes, that "he cannot be reckoned to have been ignorant of any thing." But the contrary may justly be suspected, and for no inconclusive reason. I aver, that on whatever subject he was haranguing, the moment he discovered any of the company present understood it as well as himself, he became silent, never choosing to descant on art or science but before people whom he supposed to be utter strangers to all their principles. For this reason, he would have entertained Sir Joshua Reynolds with remarks on the genera and cultivation of plants, and talked to Linnæus about the outline and colouring of pictures.
That he died poor (for such was really the case), should excite no astonishment. His fortune, like his good qualities, was chiefly in supposition. Much of his wealth he had expended on buildings, which he never long inhabited, and afterwards sold to disadvantage. His first essays in architecture were made at Chepstow on the Severn, an estate purchased by Lady Betty Molyneux immediately after the death of her husband. In short, our hero was a fugitive inhabitant of several counties, and never settled till he reached Southampton; for in no other place did he meet with that proportion of flattery which was needful to his happiness, if not to his existence.—About a mile from hence he erected the whimsical baby-house dignified by him with the title of Belle-Vue, a receptacle every way inconvenient for the purposes of a family. Being once asked if this was not a very singular mansion,—"Singular!" (replied he) "by G—I hope it is, or I would pull it down immediately. I would have you to know, Sir, that it is constructed on the true principles of anatomy." The attempt to apply anatomical principles to the arrangement of passages, doors, and windows, is too glaring an absurdity to need animadversion, or to render it necessary for me to deny in form, that he could ever be "admired for his knowledge in architecture," except by such as knew not wherein its excellencies consisted.—He had, however, another dwelling within the walls of the town already mentioned. Here he pretended that his upper apartments were crowded with rarities, which he only wanted space to exhibit. But, alas! after his decease, Mr. Christie's auction-room bore abundant witness to the frivolity of his collections. What became of his boasted library of books, which he always said was packed up in boxes, I am yet to learn. Perhaps it existed only in his description.[5]
"Those who found out he loved praise (says his apologist) took care he should have enough of it." I discover little cause for disputing this assertion, and shall only observe on it, that adulation is a commodity which weak old men, reputed rich, and without ostensible heirs, are seldom in danger of wanting, though they may not enjoy so much of it as fell to St. André's share.
His disbursements to the poor might be proportioned to the real state of his fortune; but yet they were conducted with excess of ostentation. He may be said to have given shillings away with more parade than many other men would have shown in the distribution of as many guineas.—What honour his apologist means to confer on him by saying that "the names of those whom he maintained might be written alphabetically," is to me a secret, because names of every kind may be arranged according to the series of the letters.—Suspected characters, however, often strive to redeem themselves by affectation of liberality. Few are more generous than opulent wantons toward their decline of life, who thus attempt to recover that respect which they are conscious of having forfeited by the misdeeds of their youth. The benefactions of such people may in truth be considered as expiatory sacrifices for past offences, having no foundation in a natural propensity to relieve the indigent, or indulge the heart in the noblest luxury, that of doing good.
St. André was accused in J. N.'s pamphlet of having frequently larded his pleasantry with obscene expressions. This is a truth which his defender makes not the slightest effort to deny; but adds, that his conversation was hardly ever tinctured with prophaneness. We hence at least may infer that our hero's humour had sometimes this imperfection, which indeed might have escaped notice, but for the zeal of his apologist.—As I am on this subject, I cannot forbear to mention a particular in Mr. St. André's behaviour, which hitherto has been overlooked. When at any time he received a reproof from women of sense, fashion, and character, whose ears he had insulted with his ribaldry, his confidence in a moment forsook him, nor had he a word to offer in extenuation of his offence. My informant has more than once beheld, with secret satisfaction, how effectually the frown of steady virtue could awe this "mighty impudent" into silence. Notwithstanding what has been already said concerning that indifference to censure which appeared in him towards the end of his life, I am mis-informed, if at an earlier period he was able to brave the ridicule of the place where he had been once employed and caressed. When the imputations consequent on his marriage, &c. had rendered him still less an object of respect, he retired with his bride, and amused himself at a distance from London with additions to his house, and improvements in his garden; nor did he appear in public again till what was known and suspected of him had ceased to be the object of general enquiry and animadversion.
It is difficult for a profligate man of an amorous constitution to grow old with decency. J. N.'s pamphlet had taxed St. André with lasciviousness unbecoming his years. This is silently admitted by his apologist, who adds, that the intrigues of his hero were "sometimes with the lower part of the sex." He gives us reason also to suppose that our antiquated enamorato was a dupe to females in the very last stage of a life so unusually protracted. Is St. André's memory much honoured by such revelations? Do not circumstances like these increase that stock of "injurious insinuations" which our apologist professes to diminish?
Our panegyrist, more than once in the course of his letter, has expressed himself in favourable terms of St. André's colloquial talents. Now, as the memory of my entertaining opponent in respect to circumstances is remarkably tenacious, 'tis pity he has preserved no splendid ebullition of his hero's wit, no sample of that satire and irony that seasoned his conversation, or of that wisdom which so often rendered it instructive. I flatter myself, that if any specimens of these distinct excellencies could have been recollected, they would certainly have been arranged and recorded.
That St. André expired without signs of terror, is but a doubtful proof of his innocence. Being, at best, a free-thinker, he might regard death as annihilation, might have been insensible to its immediate approaches, or have encountered it with a constitutional firmness that was rather the gift of nature than the result of conscience undisturbed. He who is become indifferent to the value of reputation, will not easily be inclined to suppose that a want of the virtues on which it is founded will be punished in a future state.
The whole narrative, published by St. André in 1723, was considered by his contemporaries as an ostentatious falsehood, invented only to render him an object of attention and commiseration. It should be remembered, that his depositions were all delivered on oath; and yet, being replete with facts totally improbable (for his apologist allows "they partake of the marvellous"), obtained no credit from the world; a sufficient proof of the estimation in which his moral character was held by the people who were best acquainted with it, though at that period (for the rabbit affair had not yet decided on his reputation) he possessed sufficient interest as court-surgeon to engage the privy-council in his cause. They readily enough consented to offer a sum which they might have been sure would never be demanded. All the poison he was ever supposed to have suffered from, was such as is commonly administered in a more tempting vehicle than a glass of strong liquor:
"'Twas that which taints the sweetest joys,
And in the shape of Love destroys."
The bare mention of Socrates in company with such a pretended victim as St. André, cannot fail to make the reader smile.
But "He's half absolv'd who has confess'd," continues his advocate, speaking of the recantation St. André made by public advertisement. Yet, what did he confess? Why, what all the world concurred to believe, that he had been grossly imposed on; or perhaps that, out of two evils choosing the least, he allowed himself to be a fool, that he might escape the imputation of having proved a knave. His absolution therefore was not obtained on the most creditable terms. He adds, however, on this emergency, a fresh proof of his disposition to deceive. "I think myself obliged (says he) in strict regard to truth, to acquaint the public that I intend, in a short time, to publish a full account of the discovery, with some considerations on the extraordinary circumstances of this case, which misled me in my apprehensions thereof; and which, as I hope they will, in some measure, excuse the mistakes made by myself and others who have visited the woman concerned therein, will also be acceptable to the world, in separating the innocent from those who have been guilty actors in the fraud." This work was never published, though St. André survived his promise by the long term of fifty years. So much for the faith thus solemnly pledged by an impostor to the public.
After the accident had befallen Mr. Pope, on his return from Dawley in Lord Bolingbroke's coach, St. André was called in, because he happened to be the surgeon nearest at hand. No man chooses to be scrupulous in the moment of danger. It might be urged that our hero had little to boast on the occasion, because his patient never recovered the use of his wounded fingers. But this calamity is not strictly chargeable on St. André's want of skill; for I have been assured, that though he stopped the effusion of blood, the completion of the cure was entrusted solely to another artist. The RABBITEER, having received his fee, was not admitted a second time into the Poet's company.
To conclude, I differ as much with our ingenious apologist at the close of his Epistle as throughout the foregoing parts of it, being of opinion that his hero no more deserves to be admired than to be copied. There is always hazard lest wonder should generate imitation; and the world would not be much obliged to any circumstance that produced a second being fabricated on the model of St. André.
[1] See also Dryden's Limberham, or the Kind Keeper. Act III.
[2] The words of Pope are "the poisoning dame." See Epilogue to his Satires, Dial. II. v. 22.
[3] Whilst the above page was preparing for the second edition of this work, the following particulars of this gentleman's family appeared in the public prints: "Mr. Molyneux, who was equally the friend of liberty and literature, was founder of a society in Ireland, in imitation of the Royal (as was his nephew, the Rev. Dr. Madden, of the Dublin Society). His genius was celebrated by Locke, and other sages of those days; and his patriotism was rewarded with the successive representation of the City and University of Dublin, with other posts of great trust, from the Revolution to his death. He married the daughter of Sir William Domville, attorney-general of Ireland in the reign of Charles the Second, and niece of Sir Thomas Leake, of Cannons in Middlesex, by whom he had an only son, Samuel Molyneux, Esq; secretary to his late Majesty when Prince of Wales, a lord of the Admiralty, and member of parliament both in Great-Britain and Ireland, who resembled his illustrious father in his pursuits of philosophical knowledge, which he many years, until engaged in political business, prosecuted with great application at his seat at Kew, now his Majesty's, and presented a telescope of his own construction to the King of Portugal; his perhaps fatal acquaintance with and patronage of St. André will make his name long remembered. Leaving no issue by his wife, who married St. André, and lived many years, the estate of Mr. Molyneux fell at her death to his cousin-german and her god-son, the right honourable Sir Capel Molyneux, member at present of the Irish parliament, and a privy-counsellor, only surviving son of Mr. Molyneux father's next brother, Sir Thomas Molyneux, bart. whom, through regard for his nephew, his late Majesty created the first Irish baronet upon his accession to the throne."
[4] The following story was told by St. André to an eminent bookseller, from whom I received it:
"Once when I was in Paris," says our hero, "I went to a sale of Missals, most of them bound in crimson velvet. Among these, and in the same binding, I discovered a fine impression of the Duke of Orleans's celebrated publication of Les Amours Pastorales de Daphnis et de Chloe, &c. which I purchased for a mere trifle. On taking off the velvet, I found the cover underneath was ornamented with as many jewels as I sold afterwards for five hundred pounds."——Who can believe a circumstance so utterly improbable?
[5] I am assured, on unquestionable authority, that Mr. St. André had a valuable library in the classes of Natural History and Medicine. A catalogue of it, drawn up by Mr. B. White, is now in the possession of Mr. St. André's executor, by whom it is reserved for the benefit of minors.
[N° II.]
[See p. [137].]
The kindness of a friend has enabled me to lay before the reader some extracts from the scarce pamphlet mentioned in p. 137. The following is the exact title of it: "A Letter from a Parishioner of St. Clement Danes, to the Right Reverend Father in God Edmund, Lord Bishop of London, occasioned by his Lordship's causing the Picture over the Altar to be taken down. With some Observations on the Use and Abuse of Church Paintings in General, and of that Picture in particular.
"Exodus, Chap. xxxii. Ver. 20. And he took the Calf which they had made, and burnt it in the Fire, and ground it to powder, and strawed it upon the Water, and made the Children of Israel drink of it.
"London, printed and sold by J. Roberts, in Warwick-Lane; A. Dod, without Temple-Bar-, and E. Nut, at the Royal-Exchange. 1725. Price 6d."
After some introductory compliments to Bishop Gibson, the Letter-writer thus proceeds: "Of all the abuses your Lordship has redressed, none more timely, none more acceptable to all true Protestants, than your last injunction to remove that ridiculous, superstitious piece of Popish foppery from over our communion-table; this has gained you the applause and good will of all honest men, who were scandalized to see that holy place defiled with so vile and impertinent a representation.
"To what end or purpose was it put there, but to affront our most gracious Sovereign, by placing at our very altar the known resemblance of a person, who is the wife of his utter enemy, and pensioner to the Whore of Babylon?
"When I say the known resemblance, I speak not only according to my own knowledge; but appeal to all mankind who have seen the Princess Sobieski, or any picture or resemblance of her, if the picture of that angel in the white garment and blue mantle, which is there supposed to be beating time to the musick, is not directly a great likeness of that princess. This I insist on, and will stand and fall by my assertion, provided they do not play any tricks with the picture, or alter it for contradiction sake now it is down.
"Whether it was done by chance, or on purpose, I shall not determine; but be it which it will, it has given great offence, and your Lordship has acted the part of a wise and good prelate to order its removal.
"For surely, such a picture is far unfit for so sacred a place; a place too solemn for such levities, too awful to be made the receptacle of such trumpery: nay, admit it were not the resemblance of such a person, can any thing be more absurd, than such a picture in such a place!
"But if it be the picture of that person, what can be more sacrilegious, more impudently sacrilegious, than to have our sanctuary defiled by those who make a mock of us and our holy religion? I mean, our inveterate enemies the Papists, who would scruple to prophane no place, so they might show their implacable hatred to our God, and our King.
"To our God, by making his holy altar the scene of their ribaldry, to be approached with wantonness and curiosity, by the sons of Belial, who come there to decypher the dumb libel, and sneer at the pictured lampoon, which tacitly mocks the church, and openly affronts the State.
"To our King, by placing the resemblance of an avowed enemy to him and his religion, at the very altar, to stand in view of a whole congregation; a thing, in my opinion, much more audacious, than the setting up her statue in the public streets.
"No wonder our church has been thronged with spectators, to the great hindrance of divine worship, and annoyance of the parishioners, when those crouds of irreverend persons, which were ever pouring in, came not there to join in prayer with the rest of the congregation, but to worship their Popish saint, and hug themselves with the conceit of being alone in the secret.
"But at last the watch-word was blown, and the true intent of their coming discovered. Then was it high time to complain to your Lordship, when disturbances became so frequent, and the peace of the church was so manifestly broken: that you, like another Moses, commanded the tinctured abomination to be taken down, and no doubt but your Lordship will call them to account who set it up.
"When your Lordship shall examine, who is the painter, and of what principle? how long he had been from the Court of Rome, before he painted that picture? and whether he brought no picture, or resemblance, of the Princess Sobieski over with him? you will not repent of what you have done. But when you shall farther enquire after the person who employed him; whether he be a Protestant? or, if he call himself so, whether his children were not sent abroad to Popish seminaries for education?
"When your Lordship, I say, shall examine into these particulars, I doubt not of the inferences so wise a man will draw from such convincing circumstances.
"And as your Lordship has begun to redress one abuse, I persuade myself you will not stop here, but enquire likewise, by what authority it was put there. This may, perhaps, open another scene to your Lordship's view, and give you an opportunity, not only to ease the parish of a very heavy burden it now groans under, but prevent its being run to unnecessary and unwarranted expences for the future, by every Jac——- in an office.
"And, indeed, unless there was a sufficient warrant for such alterations, the workmen should go to the right person's door, and he that set them to work ought to pay them; for, in my humble opinion, the place needed no alteration: it was decent, convenient, and indeed ornamental enough before; there was no more sign, or fear of its falling, than there was occasion to take it down, and deprive the parish of a conveniency now very much wanted, I mean a little vestry-room, which was behind the old communion table, where the books, vessels, and vestments of the church, were ready at hand, and just at the very altar; whereas now every thing is brought quite through the body of the church, which in case of a croud (as of late has been but too frequent) is both tedious and inconvenient to the last degree.
"But, notwithstanding this, it was resolutely taken down, to gratify the pride and malice of some persons, who thirsted to eternize their names, and affront the government. What have been the consequences of all this, but an eye-sore and heart-burning to the honest and loyal part of the inhabitants, and a continual hurly-burly of loiterers from all parts of the town, to see our Popish raree-show?"
After a digression on the famous altar at White-Chapel, in which Dean Kennet was said to be satirized, and some general observations on pictures in churches, the Letter-writer adds, "Never before was any Popish saint put over the communion-table in a Protestant church. The Last Supper, the Passion, Crucifixion, or some other incidents of our Blessed Saviour's life, are the general subjects given to painters on these occasions; but to have a concert of musick, &c. (suppose it were not the Pretender's spouse, and probably some more of his family, under the form of angels) is the most abrupt and foreign that I ever saw or heard of.
"What surprizes me most is, that any of my fellow parishioners should not only dispute your Lordship's commands, delay the execution of your just injunction, when it was most reasonable and necessary, but pester your Lordship with impertinent petitions and remonstrances, as if they were injured and oppressed, or your Lordship misinformed. This must be the reason; or to what purpose did they trifle with and contest your Lordship's ordinance? But you are too just a man to give any sentence but the most impartial, and too steady to give up any point, where the peace of the Church and the honour of the King is concerned.
"Whoever murmurs at its being taken down, takes the part of those who set it up; and whoever takes their part, is as bad as themselves, and would do the like on the like opportunity. What can they object against its being removed? What can they offer for having it remain? But why's, and why not's. As, Why should it be removed? What hurt did it do? Why should so much money be thrown away? And, why might not that picture be there as well as any other? Why does your Lordship interfere in the matter? This, with a glance of complaint at your Lordship, and severe invectives against those who solicited that interposition, calling them informers, busy, forward, mischief-making fellows, who had better mind their own business, and such like ribaldry, is all they can say for themselves. But these are the worst reasons in the world, and invidious queries only to evade an argument, and are not to be admitted in a debate of this nature, where a direct reason for, or against, is required. But give me leave, my Lord, and I will, in a few words, answer all their queries, which seem so weighty and formidable to the vulgar and ignorant.
"Why should it be removed? may be answered by another question, What business had it there? But as I scorn such quibbling ways of reasoning, I shall answer them, because it is unfit for that sacred place. If it is the Princess Sobieski's image, it is sacrilegious and traiterous, and therefore ought to be removed. If it is, as they say, a choir of heavenly angels at a practice of musick, playing on earthly instruments, it is impertinent and absurd to the last degree, and therefore ought to be removed from a place where the utmost decorum should be kept.
"What hurt does it, say they? To which I answer, it hurted or disturbed the peace of the church, and was so far hurtful, as we were hindered or annoyed in our devotions; it made a division in the parish, and was so far hurtful, as it tended to the breach of peace and good neighbourhood; and therefore I think it ought to be removed, since, not to answer them with a question, but a common saying, it did hurt enough.
"Why should so much money be thrown away? Ay, there's the grievance; but I shall tell them, they may thank themselves, it was the act and deed of their own cabal; and though they might triumph and laugh in their sleeves for a while, yet murder will out, and they might expect to be paid in their own coin one time or other. There was no occasion to remove the old communion-table and vestry; and therefore all the money is thrown away; the worse their management. Nor was there any necessity of so sumptuous an altar-piece, or of that picture in particular, therefore so much money as that picture cost, which, by the bye, is no trifling sum[1] (the painter, as well as his masters, being no small fool), is entirely thrown away, and has been cast into The Thames; or, as the vulgar have it, thrown down the kennel.
"It was set up against the will of the major part of the parish, and not without much murmur and complaint; there was yet a much greater majority for pulling it down; if therefore so much money is thrown away, it is pity the parish should pay it; and, no doubt, when your Lordship comes to enquire by what authority a set of men ran the parish so much in debt for their own whims, and without any manner of occasion, you will do us justice, and teach such persons for the future to consult the bishop, and have the general consent of the parish, before they run into such extravagancies.
"The tradesmen want their money, and the parish cannot pay them: your Lordship therefore will do very well to adjust this matter, that they may know where to go for their money.
"Their delaying to take down their idol, was a tacit disputing your lordship's commands, irreligious and contumacious to the last degree: and indeed I cannot say but some of the public prints[2] gave me great anxiety, when they had the impudence to assure the world it was not to be taken down: but that anxiety was of short continuance; for I had the satisfaction the next morning to find it removed, and whole crowds of idle persons who came to see it disappointed; then I found, to my great comfort, that you were not to be biassed; but, as you had begun the good work, you had gone through with it, and made them take it down with a witness."
[1] It cost fourscore pounds.
[2] The Post-Boy and Daily Journal of Saturday, September 4.
[N° III.]
[See p. [414].]
An Account of what seemed most remarkable in the Five Days' Peregrination of the Five following Persons, viz. Messieurs Tothall, Scott, Hogarth, Thornhill, and Forrest; begun on Saturday, May 27, 1732, and finished on the 31st of the same Month. Imitated in Hudibrasticks by one well acquainted with some of the Travellers, and of the Places here celebrated, with Liberty of some Additions.
"Abi tu, et fac similiter."
Inscription on Dulwich College Porch.
'Twas first of morn on Saturday,
The seven-and-twentieth day of May,
When Hogarth, Thornhill, Tothall, Scott,
And Forrest, who this journal wrote,
From Covent-Garden took departure, 5
To see the world by land and water.
Our march we with a song begin;
Our hearts were light, our breeches thin.
We meet with nothing of adventure
Till Billingsgate's Dark-house we enter; 10
Where we diverted were, while baiting,
With ribaldry, not worth relating,
(Quite suited to the dirty place):
But what most pleas'd us was his Grace
Of Puddle Dock, a porter grim, 15
Whose portrait Hogarth, in a whim,
Presented him in caricature,
He pasted on the cellar-door.[1]
But hark! the Watchman cries "Past one!"
'Tis time that we on board were gone. 20
Clean straw we find laid for our bed,
A tilt for shelter over head.
The boat is soon got under sail,
Wind near S. E. a mackrel gale,
Attended by a heavy rain; 25
We try to sleep, but try in vain,
So sing a song, and then begin
To feast on biscuit, beef, and gin.
At Purfleet find three men of war,
The Dursley galley, Gibraltar, 30
And Tartar pink, and of this last
The pilot begg'd of us a cast
To Gravesend, which he greatly wanted,
And readily by us was granted.
The grateful man, to make amends, 35
Told how the officers and friends
Of England were by Spaniards treated,
And shameful instances repeated.
While he these insults was deploring,
Hogarth, like Premier, fell to snoring, 40
But waking cry'd, "I dream'd"—and then
Fell fast asleep, and snor'd again.
The morn clear'd up, and after five
At port of Gravesend we arrive,
But found it hard to get on shore; 45
His boat a young son of a whore
Had fix'd just at our landing-place,
And swore we should not o'er it pass;
But, spite of all the rascal's tricks,
We made a shift to land by six, 50
And up to Mrs. Bramble's go
[A house that we shall better know],
There get a barber for our wigs,
Wash hands and faces, stretch our legs,
Had toast and butter, and a pot 55
Of coffee (our third breakfast) got:
Then, paying what we had to pay,
For Rochester we took our way,
Viewing the new church as we went,
And th' unknown person's monument. 60
The beauteous prospects found us talk.
And shorten'd much our two hours walk,
Though by the way we did not fail
To stop and take three pots of ale,
And this enabled us by ten 65
At Rochester to drink again.
Now, Muse, assist, while I declare
(Like a true English traveller)
What vast variety we survey
In the short compass of one day. 70
We scarce had lost the sight of Thames,
When the fair Medway's winding streams,
And far-extending Rochester,
Before our longing eyes appear:
The Castle and Cathedral grace 75
One prospect, so we mend our pace;
Impatient for a nearer view,
But first must Strood's rough street trudge through,
And this our feet no short one find;
However, with a cheerful mind, 80
All difficulties we get o'er,
And soon are on the Medway's shore.
New objects here before us rise,
And more than satisfy our eyes,
The stately Bridge from side to side, 85
The roaring cataracts of the tide,
Deafen our ears, and charm our sight,
And terrify while they delight.
These we pass over to the Town,
And take our Quarters at The Crown, 90
To which the Castle is so near,
That we all in a hurry were
The grand remains on't to be viewing;
It is indeed a noble ruin,
Must have been very strong, but length 95
Of time has much impair'd its strength:
The lofty Tower as high or higher
Seems than the old Cathedral's spire;
Yet we determin'd were to gain
Its top, which cost some care and pain; 100
When there arriv'd, we found a well,
The depth of which I cannot tell;
Small holes cut in on every side
Some hold for hands and feet provide,
By which a little boy we saw 105
Go down, and bring up a jack-daw.
All round about us then we gaze,
Observing, not without amaze,
How towns here undistinguish'd join,
And one vast One to form combine. 110
Chatham with Rochester seems but one,
Unless we're shewn the boundary-stone.
That and its Yards contiguous lie
To pleasant Brompton standing high;
The Bridge across the raging flood 115
Which Rochester divides from Strood,
Extensive Strood, on t'other side,
To Frindsbury quite close ally'd:
The country round, and river fair,
Our prospects made beyond compare, 120
Which quite in raptures we admire;
Then down to face of earth retire.
Up the Street walking, first of all
We take a view of the Town-Hall.
Proceeding farther on, we spy 125
A house, design'd to catch the eye,
With front so rich, by plastick skill,
As made us for a while stand still:
Four huge Hobgoblins grace the wall,
Which we four Bas Relievo's call; 130
They the four Seasons represent,
At least were form'd for that intent.
Then Watts's Hospital we see
(No common curiosity):
Endow'd (as on the front appears) 135
In favour of poor travellers;
Six such it every night receives,
Supper and lodging gratis gives,
And to each man next morn does pay
A groat, to keep him on his way: 140
But the contagiously infected,
And rogues and proctors, are rejected.
It gave us too some entertainment
To find out what this bounteous man meant.
Yet were we not so highly feasted, 145
But that we back to dinner hasted.
By twelve again we reach The Crown,
But find our meat not yet laid down,
So (spite of "Gentlemen, d'ye call?")
On chairs quite fast asleep we fall, 150
And with clos'd eyes again survey,
In dreams, what we have seen to-day:
Till dinner's coming up, when we
As ready are as that can be.
If we describe it not, we're undone, 155
You'll scarce believe we came from London.
With due attention then prepare
Yourself to hear our bill of fare.
For our first course a dish there was
Of soles and flounders with crab-sauce, 160
A stuff'd and roast calf's-heart beside,
With 'purt'nance minc'd, and liver fry'd;
And for a second course, they put on
Green pease and roasted leg of mutton:
The cook was much commended for't; 165
Fresh was the beer, and sound the port:
So that nem. con. we all agree
(Whatever more we have to see)
From table we'll not rise till three.
Our shoes are clean'd, 'tis three o'clock, 170
Come let's away to Chatham-Dock;
We shan't get there till almost four,
To see't will take at least an hour;
Yet Scott and Hogarth needs must stop
At the Court-Hall to play Scotch hop. 175
To Chatham got, ourselves we treat
With Shrimps, which as we walk we eat.
For speed we take a round-a-bout-
way, as we afterwards found out:
At length reach the King's yards and docks, 180
Admire the ships there on the stocks,
The men of war afloat we view,
Find means to get aboard of two;[2]
But here I must not be prolix,
For we went home again at six, 185
There smoak'd our pipes, and drank our wine,
And comfortably sat till nine,
Then, with our travels much improv'd,
To our respective beds we mov'd.
Sunday at seven we rub our eyes, 190
But are too lazy yet to rise:
Hogarth and Thornhill tell their dreams,
And, reasoning deeply on those themes,
After much learned speculation,
Quite suitable to the occasion, 195
Left off as wise as they begun,
Which made for us in bed good fun.
But by and by, when up we got,
Sam Scott was missing, "Where's Sam Scott?"
"Oh! here he comes. Well! whence come you?" 200
"Why from the bridge, taking a view[3]
Of something that did highly please me,
But people passing by would teaze me
With 'Do you work on Sundays, friend?'
So that I could not make an end." 205
At this we laugh'd, for 'twas our will
Like men of taste that day to kill.
So after breakfast we thought good
To cross the bridge again to Strood:
Thence eastward we resolve to go, 210
And through the Hundred march of Hoo,
Wash'd on the north side by the Thames,
And on the south by Medway's streams.
Which to each other here incline,
Till at The Nore in one they join. 215
Before we Frindsbury could gain,
There fell a heavy shower of rain,
When crafty Scott a shelter found
Under a hedge upon the ground,
There of his friends a joke he made, 220
But rose most woefully bewray'd;
How against him the laugh was turn'd,
And he the vile disaster mourn'd!
We work, all hands, to make him clean,
And fitter to be smelt and seen. 225
But, while we scrap'd his back and side,
All on a sudden, out he cried,
"I've lost my cambrick handkercher,
'Twas lent me by my wife so dear:
What I shall do I can't devise, 230
I've nothing left to wipe my eyes."
At last the handkerchief was found,
To his great comfort, safe and sound,
He's now recover'd and alive;
So in high spirits all arrive 235
At Frindsbury, fam'd for prospects fair,
But we much more diverted were
With what the parish church did grace,
"A list of some who lov'd the place,
In memory of their good actions, 240
And gratitude for their benefactions.
Witness our hands—Will. Gibbons, Vicar—"
And no one else.—This made us snicker:
At length, with countenances serious,
We all agreed it was mysterious, 245
Not guessing that the reason might
Be, the Churchwardens could not write.
At ten, in council it was mov'd,
Whoe'er was tir'd, or disapprov'd
Of our proceedings, might go back, 250
And cash to bear his charges take.
With indignation this was heard:
Each was for all events prepar'd.
So all with one consent agreed
To Upnor-Castle to proceed, 255
And at the sutler's there we din'd
On such coarse fare as we could find.
The Castle[4] was not large, but strong,
And seems to be of standing long.
Twenty-four men its garrison, 260
And just for every man a gun;
Eight guns were mounted, eight men active,
The rest were rated non-effective.
Here an old couple, who had brought
Some cockles in their boat, besought 265
That one of us would buy a few,
For they were very fresh and new.
I did so, and 'twas charity;
He was quite blind, and half blind she.
Now growing frolicksome and gay, 270
Like boys, we, after dinner, play,
But, as the scene lay in a fort,
Something like war must be our sport:
Sticks, stones, and hogs-dung, were our weapons,
And, as in such frays oft it happens, 275
Poor Tothall's cloaths here went to pot,
So that he could not laugh at Scott.
From hence all conquerors we go
To visit the church-yard at Hoo.
At Hoo we found an Epitaph, 280
Which made us (as 'twill make you) laugh:
A servant maid, turn'd poetaster,
Wrote it in honour of her master;
I therefore give you (and I hope you
Will like it well) a Vera Copia: 285
"And.wHen.he.Died.You plainly.see
Hee.freely.gave.al.to.Sara.passaWee.
And.in.Doing.so.it DoTh.prevail.
that.Ion.him.can.well.bes.Tow.this Rayel.
On.Year.sarved.him.it is well.none. 290
BuT Thanks.beto.God.it.is.all my.One."
While here among the Graves we stumble,
Our Hogarth's guts began to grumble,
Which he to ease, turn'd up his tail
Over a monumental rail; 295
Tothall, for this indecent action,
Bellowing on him just correction
With nettles, as there was no birch,
He fled for refuge to the church,
And shamefully the door besh-t; 300
O filthy dauber! filthy wit!
Long at one place we must not stay,
'Tis almost four, let's haste away.
But here's a sign; 'tis rash we think,
To leave the place before we drink. 305
We meet with liquor to our mind,
Our hostess complaisant and kind:
She was a widow, who, we found,
Had (as the phrase is) been shod round,
That is, had buried husbands four, 310
And had no want of charms for more;
Yet her we leave, and, as we go,
Scott bravely undertook to show
That through the world we could not pass,
How thin soe'er our breeches was; 315
"'Tis true, indeed, we may go round,
But through"—then pointed to the ground.
So well he manag'd the debate,
We own'd he was a man of weight:
And so indeed he was this once, 320
His pockets we had fill'd with stones:
But here we'd serv'd ourselves a trick,
Of which he might have made us sick:
We'd furnish'd him with ammunition
Fit to knock down all opposition; 325
And, knowing well his warmth of temper,
Out of his reach began to scamper,
Till, growing cooler, he pretends
His passion feign'd, so all are friends.
Our danger now becomes a joke, 330
And peaceably we go to Stoke.
About the church we nothing can see
To strike or entertain our fancy:
But near a farm, on an elm tree,
A long pole fix'd upright we see, 335
And tow'rd the top of it was plac'd
A weathercock, quite in high taste,
Which all of us, ere we go further,
Pronounce of the Composite order.
First, on a board turn'd by the wind, 340
A painter had a cock design'd,
A common weather-cock was above it,
This turn'd too as the wind did move it;
Then on the spindle's point so small
A shuttlecock stuck o'ertopp'd them all. 345
This triple alliance gave occasion
To much improving speculation.
Alas! we ne'er know when we are well,
So at Northfleet again must quarrel;
But fought not here with sticks and stones 350
(For those, you know, might break our bones)!
A well just by, full to the brim,
Did fitter for our purpose seem;
So furiously we went to dashing,
Till our coats wanted no more washing; 355
But this our heat and courage cooling,
'Twas soon high time to leave such fooling.
To The Nag's Head we therefore hie,
To drink, and to be turn'd adry.
At six, while supper was preparing, 360
And we about the marsh-lands staring,
Our two game-cocks, Tothall and Scott,
To battling once again were got:
But here no weapons could they find,
Save what the cows dropp'd from behind; 365
With these they pelted, till we fancy
Their cloaths look'd something like a tansy.
At seven we all come home again,
Tothall and Scott their garments clean;
Supper we get, and, when that's o'er, 370
A tiff of punch drink at the door;
Then, as the beds were only three,
Draw cuts who shall so lucky be
As here to sleep without a chum;
To Tothall's share the prize did come 375
Hogarth and Thornhill, Scott and I,
In pairs, like man and wife, must lie.
Then mighty frolicksome they grow,
At Scott and me the stocking throw,
Fight with their wigs, in which perhaps 380
They sleep, for here we found no caps.
Up at eleven again we get,
Our sheets were so confounded wet;
We dress, and lie down in our cloaths;
Monday, at three, awak'd and rose, 385
And of the cursed gnats complain,
Yet make a shift to sleep again.
Till six o'clock we quiet lay,
And then got out for the whole day;
To fetch a barber, out we send; 390
Stripp'd, and in boots, he does attend,
For he's a fisherman by trade;
Tann'd was his face, shock was his head;
He flours our wigs, and trims our faces,
And the top barber of the place is. 395
The cloth is for our breakfast spread;
A bowl of milk and toasted bread
Are brought, of which while Forrest eats.
To draw our pictures Hogarth sits;[5]
Thornhill is in the barber's hands, 400
Shaving himself Will Tothall stands;
While Scott is in a corner sitting,
And an unfinish'd piece completing.
Our reckoning about eight we pay,
And take for Isle of Greane our way; 405
To keep the road we were directed,
But, as 'twas bad, this rule neglected;
A tempting path over a stile
Let us astray above a mile;
Yet the right road at last we gain, 410
And joy to find ourselves at Greane;
Where my Dame Husbands, at The Chequer,
Refresh'd us with some good malt liquor;
Into her larder then she runs,
Brings out salt pork, butter and buns, 415
And coarse black bread; but that's no matter,
'Twill fortify us for the water.
Here Scott so carefully laid down
His penknife which had cost a crown,
That all in vain we sought to find it, 420
And, for his comfort, say, "Ne'er mind it;"
For to Sheerness we now must go:
To this the ferryman says, "No."
We to another man repair'd:
He too says, "No—it blows too hard." 425
But, while we study how to get there
In spite of this tempestuous weather,
Our landlady a scheme propos'd,
With which we fortunately clos'd,
Was to the shore to go, and try 430
To hail the ships in ordinary,
So we might get, for no great matter,
A boat to take us o'er the water.
We haste, and soon the shore we tread,
With various kinds of shells bespread. 435
And in a little time we spy'd
A boat approaching on our side;
The man to take us in agreed,
But that was difficult indeed,
Till, holding in each hand an oar, 440
He made a sort of bridge to shore,
O'er which on hands and knees we crawl,[6]
And so get safe on board the yawl.
In little time we seated were,
And now to Shepey's coast draw near; 445
When suddenly, with loud report,
The cannons roar from ships and fort,
And, like tall fellows, we impute
To our approach this grand salute:
But soon, alas! our pride was humbled, 450
And from this fancy'd height we tumbled,
On recollecting that the day
The nine and twentieth was of May.
The firing had not long been ended.
Before at Sheerness we were landed, 455
Where on the battery while we walk,
And of the charming prospect talk,
Scott from us in a hurry runs,
And, getting to the new-fir'd guns,
Unto their touch-holes clapp'd his nose; 460
Hogarth sits down, and trims his toes;
These whims when we had made our sport,
Our turn we finish round the fort,
And are at one for Queenborough going:
Bleak was the walk, the wind fierce blowing, 465
And driving o'er our heads the spray;
On loose beach stones, our pebbly way,
But Thornhill only got a fall,
Which hurt him little, if at all:
So merrily along we go, 470
And reach that famous town by two.
Queenborough consists of one short street,[7]
Broad, and well-pav'd, and very neat;
Nothing like dirt offends the eye,
Scarce any people could we spy: 475
The town-house, for the better show,
Is mounted on a portico
Of piers and arches, number four,
And crown'd at top with a clock-tower;
But all this did not reach so high 480
As a flag-staff, that stood just by,
On which a standard huge was flying
(The borough's arms, the king's supplying),
Which on high festivals they display
To do the honours of the day. 485
As for salutes, excus'd they are,
Because they have no cannon there.
To the church-yard we first repair,
And hunt for choice inscriptions there,
Search stones and rails, till almost weary all, 490
In hopes to find something material.
When one at last, of pyebald style
(Though grave the subject) made us smile:
Telling us first, in humble prose,
"That Henry Knight doth here repose, 495
A Greenland Trader twice twelve year,
As master and as harpooneer;"
Then, in as humble verse, we read
(As by himself in person said)
"In Greenland I whales, sea-horse, and bears did slay, 500
Though now my body is intombed in clay."
The house at which we were to quarter
Is call'd The Swans; this rais'd our laughter.
Because the sign is The Red Lion,
So strange a blunder we cry "Fie on!" 505
But, going in, all neat we see
And clean; so was our landlady:
With great civility she told us,
She had not beds enough to hold us,
But a good neighbour had just by, 510
Where some of us perhaps might lie.
She sends to ask. The merry dame
Away to us directly came,
Quite ready our desires to grant,
And furnish us with what we want. 515
Back to the church again we go;
Which is but small, ill built, and low,
View'd the inside, but still see we
Nothing of curiosity
Unless we suffer the grave-digger 520
In this our work to make a figure,
Whom just beside us now we have,
Employ'd in opening of a grave.
A prating spark indeed he was,
Knew all the scandal of the place, 525
And often rested from his labours,
To give the history of his neighbours;
Told who was who, and what was what,
Till on him we bestow'd a pot
(For he forgot not, you may think, 530
"Masters, I hope, you'll make me drink!"),
At this his scurrilous tongue run faster,
Till "a sad dog" he call'd his master,
Told us the worshipful the Mayor
Was but a custom-house officer; 535
Still rattling on till we departed,
Not only with his tales diverted,
But so much wisdom we had got.
We treated him with t'other pot.
Return we now to the town-hall. 540
That, like the borough, is but small,
Under its portico's a space,
Which you may call the market-place,
Just big enough to hold the stocks,
And one, if not two, butcher's blocks, 545
Emblems of plenty and excess,
Though you can no where meet with less:
For though 'tis call'd a market-town
(As they are not asham'd to own)
Yet we saw neither butcher's meat, 550
Nor fish, nor fowl, nor aught to eat.
Once in seven years, they say, there's plenty,
When strangers come to represent ye.
Hard at The Swans had been our fare,
But that some Harwich men were there, 555
Who lately had some lobsters taken,
With which, and eke some eggs and bacon,
Our bellies we design to fill;
But first will clamber up the hill,
A most delightful spot of ground, 560
O'erlooking all the country round;
On which there formerly has been
The palace of Philippa, queen
To the third Edward, as they tell,
Now nought remains on 't but a well: 565
But 'tis from hence, says common fame,
The borough gets its royal name.
Two sailors at this well we meet,
And do each other kindly greet:
"What brings you here, my lads?" cry we. 570
"Thirst, please your honours, as you see;
For (adds the spokesman) we are here
Waiting for our young officer,
A midshipman on board The Rose,
(For General S——'s son he goes): 575
We and our messmates, six in all,
Yesterday brought him in our yawl,
And when, as we had been commanded,
Quite safe and dry we had him landed,
By running of her fast aground 580
At tide of ebb, he quickly found
That he might go and see Sheerness,
So here he left us pennyless,
To feast on Queenborough air and water,
Or starve, to him 'tis no great matter; 585
While he among his friends at ease is,
And will return just when he pleases;
Perhaps he may come back to-day;
If not, he knows that we must stay."
So one of us gave him a tester, 590
When both cried out, "God bless you, master!"
Then ran to rouse their sleeping fellows,
To share their fortune at the alehouse.
Hence to the creek-side, one and all,
We go to see The Rose's yawl, 595
And found her bedded in the mud,
Immovable till tide of flood.
The sailors here had cockles got,
Which gratefully to us they brought,
'Twas all with which they could regale us; 600
This t'other sixpence sent to th' alehouse:
So merrily they went their way,
And we were no less pleas'd than they.
At seven about the town we walk,
And with some pretty damsels talk. 605
Beautiful nymphs indeed, I ween,
Who came to see, and to be seen.
Then to our Swans returning, there
We borrow'd a great wooden chair,
And plac'd it in the open street, 610
Where, in much state, did Hogarth sit
To draw the townhouse, church, and steeple,[8]
Surrounded by a crowd of people;
Tag, rag, and bobtail, stood quite thick there,
And cry'd, "What a sweet pretty picture!" 615
This was not finish'd long, before
We saw, about the Mayor's fore-door,
Our honest sailors in a throng:
We call'd one of them from among
The rest, to tell us the occasion; 620
Of which he gave us this relation:
"Our midshipman is just come back,
And chanc'd to meet or overtake
A sailor walking with a woman
(May be, she's honest, may be, common): 625
He thought her handsome, so his honour
Would needs be very sweet upon her:
But this the seaman would not suf-
fer, and this put him in a huff.
'Lubber, avast,' says sturdy John, 630
'Avast, I say, let her alone;
You shall not board her, she's my wife.
Sheer off, Sir, if you love your life:
I've a great mind your back to lick;'
And up he held his oaken stick. 635
"Our midship hero this did scare:
'I'll swear the peace before the Mayor,'
Says he; so to the Mayor's they trudge:"
How then a case by such a judge
Determin'd was, I cannot say, 640
We thought it not worth while to stay:
For it strikes nine, "How th' evening spends!
Come, let us drink to all our friends
A chearful glass, and eat a bit."
So to our supper down we sit; 645
When something merry check'd our mirth:
The Harwich men had got a birth
Closely adjoining to our room,
And were to spend their evening come:
The wall was thin, and they so near, 650
That all they say, or sing, we hear.
We sung our songs, we crack'd our jokes,
Their emulation this provokes;
And they perform'd so joyously,
As distanc'd hollow all our glee; 655
So (were it not a bull) I'd lay,
This night they fairly won the day.
Now plenteously we drink of flip,
In hopes we shall the better sleep;
Some rest the long day's work requires; 660
Scott to his lodging first retires;
His landlady is waiting for him,
And to his chamber walks before him;
In her fair hand a light she bears,
And shows him up the garret-stairs; 665
Away comes he greatly affronted,
And his disgrace to us recounted.
This makes us game, we roast him for it,
"Scott's too high-minded for a garret."
But Tothall more humanely said, 670
"Come, Scott, be easy, take my bed,
And to your garret I will go."
(This great good-nature sure did show):
There finding nought him to entertain
But a flock-bed without a curtain, 675
He too in haste came back, and got
Away to share his bed with Scott,
And at eleven each goes to nest,
Till Tuesday morn to take his rest.
At six comes Hogarth, "Rise, Sirs, rise," 680
Says he, with roguery in his eyes,
"Scott's landlady is below stairs.
And roundly the good woman swears,
That for his lodging he shall pay,
(Where his tir'd bones he scorn'd to lay) 685
Or he should go before the Mayor."
She's in the right on't, we declare,
For this would cut the matter short,
(At least 'twould make us special sport):
But here she balk'd us, and, no doubt, 690
Had wit enough to find us out.
Our mark thus miss'd, we kindly go,
To see how he and Tothall do.
We find the doors all open were,
(It seems that's not unusual here): 695
They're very well, but Scott last night
Had been in a most dreadful fright:
"When to his room he got," he said,
"And just was stepping into bed,
He thought he saw the bed-cloaths stir, 700
So back he flew in mortal fear;
But taking heart of grace, he try'd
To feel what 'twas, when out it cry'd
Again he starts, but to his joy,
It prov'd a little harmless boy, 705
Who by mistake had thither crept,
And soundly (till he wak'd him) slept
So from his fears recover'd quite
He got to sleep, and slept all night."
We laugh at this, and he laughs too, 710
For, pray, what better could he do?
At ten we leave our Lion-Swans,
And to the higher lands advance,
Call on our laundress by the way,
For the led shirts left yesterday 715
To wash; "She's sorry, they're not yet
Quite dry!"—"Why then we'll take them wet:
They'll dry and iron'd be, we hope,
At Minster, where we next shall stop."
The way was good, the weather fair, 720
The prospects most delightful were.
To Minster got, with labour hard
We climb'd the hill to the church-yard,
But, when arriv'd there, did not fail
To read some verses on a rail 725
Well worth transcribing, we agree,
Whether you think so, you may see.
"Here interr'd George Anderson doth lye,
By fallen on an anchor he did dye
In Sheerness yard on Good Friday 730
The 6th of April, I do say.
All you that read my allegy be alwaies
Ready for to dye—aged 42 years."
Of monuments that here they shew
Within the church, we drew but two; 735
One an ambassador of Spain's,[9]
T' other Lord Shorland's[10] dust contains,
Of whom they have a wondrous story,
Which (as they tell) I'll lay before ye.
The Lord of Shorland, on a day,[11] 740
Chancing to take a ride this way,
About a corpse observ'd a crowd,
Against their priest complaining loud,
That he would not the service say,
Till somebody his fees should pay. 745
On this, his lordship too did rave,
And threw the priest into the grave,
"Make haste, and fill it up," said he,
"We'll bury both without a fee."
But when got home, and cool, reflecting 750
On the strange part he had been acting,
He drew a state up of the case,
Humbly petitioning for grace,
And to the sea gallop'd away,
Where, at that time, a frigate lay, 755
With Queen Elizabeth on board,
When (strange to tell!) this hare-brain'd Lord
On horseback swam to the ship's side,
And there to see the Queen apply'd.
His case she reads; her royal breast 760
Is mov'd to grant him his request.
His pardon thankfully he takes,
And, swimming still, to land he makes:
But, on his riding up the beach,
He an old woman met, a witch: 765
"This horse, which now your life doth save,"
Says she, "will bring you to the grave."
"You'll prove a lier," says my lord,
"You ugly hag!" and with his sword
(Acting a most ungrateful part) 770
His panting steed stabb'd to the heart.
It happen'd, after many a day,
That with some friends he stroll'd that way,
And this strange story, as they walk,
Became the subject of their talk: 775
When, "There the carcase lies," he cry'd,
"Upon the beach by the sea-side."
As 'twas not far, he led them to't,
And kick'd the skull up with his foot,
When a sharp bone pierc'd through his shoe, 780
And wounded grievously his toe,
Which mortify'd: so he was kill'd,
And the hag's prophecy fulfill'd.
See there his cross-legg'd figure laid,
And near his feet the horse's head![12] 785
The tomb[13] is of too old a fashion
To tally well with this narration;
But of the truth we would not doubt,
Nor put our Cicerone out:
It gives a moral hint at least, 790
That gratitude's due to a beast.
So far it's good, whoever made it,
And that it may not fail of credit,
A horsehead vane adorns the steeple,
And it's Horse-church call'd by the people. 795
Our shirts dry'd at The George we get,
We dine there, and till four we sit;
And now in earnest think of home:
So to Sheerness again we come.
Where for a bum-boat we agree, 800
And about five put off to sea.
We presently were under sail,
The tide our friend, south-east the gale,
Quite wind enough, and some to spare,
But we to that accustom'd were. 805
When we had now got past The Nore,
And lost the sight of Shepey's shore,
The ebbing tide of Thames we met,
The wind against it fiercely set!
This made a short and tumbling sea, 810
And finely toss'd indeed were we.
The porpoises in stormy weather
Are often seen in shoals together;
About us while they roll and play,
One in his gambols miss'd his way, 815
And threw himself so far on shore,
We thought he would get off no more;
But with great struggling and some pain,
He did, and went to play again.
On this we moralising say, 820
"How thoughtless is the love of play!"
When we ourselves with sorrow find
Our pleasures too with pain conjoin'd.
For troubles croud upon us thick;
Our hero, Scott, grows very sick; 825
Poor Hogarth makes wry faces too
(Worse faces than he ever drew).
You'll guess what were the consequences,
Not overpleasing to our senses;
And this misfortune was augmented 830
By Master Tothall's being acquainted
With the commander of a sloop,
At Holy Haven near The Hope.
"There's Captain Robinson," says he,
"A friend, whom I must call and see." 835
Up the ship's side he nimbly goes,
While we lay overwhelm'd with woes
Sick, and of winds and waves the sport.
But then he made his visit short,
And when a sup of punch he'd got, 840
Some lighted match to us he brought,
A sovereign cordial this, no doubt,
To men whose pipes had long been out.
By seven o'clock our sick recover,
And all are glad this trouble's over. 845
Now jovially we sail along,
Our cockswain giving song for song.
But soon our notes are chang'd; we found
Our boat was on Bly-sand aground,
Just in the middle of the river; 850
Here Tothall shew'd himself quite clever:
And, knowing we must else abide
Till lifted by the flowing tide,
Work'd with our skippers, till the boat
Was once more happily afloat. 855
We all applaud his care and skill,
So do the boatmen his good-will.
Ere long the tide made upward, so
With that before the wind we go,
And, disembarking about ten, 860
Our Gravesend quarters reach again.
Here Madam, smiling, comes to tell
How glad she is to see us well:
This kind reception we commended,
And now thought all our troubles ended; 865
But, when for what we want we call,
Something unlucky did befall.
When we our travels first began
Scott (who's a very prudent man)
Thought a great coat could do no harm, 870
And in the boat might keep him warm;
So far perhaps you think him right,
As we took water in the night:
But when from hence we took our way
On foot, the latter end of May, 875
He, quite as reasonably, thought
'Twould be too heavy or too hot:
"I'll leave it here," says he, "and take
It with me at our coming back."
And he most certainly design'd it: 880
But now the thing was, how to find it?
We told him, he had been mistaken,
And did without his hostess reckon.
To him it was no jest; he swore
"He left it there three days before, 885
This Mrs. Bramble can't deny."
"Sir, we shall find it by and by:"
So out she goes, and rends her throat
With "Moll, go find the gem'man's coat."
The house Moll searches round and round, 890
At last, with much ado, 'twas found—
'Twas found, that, to the owner's cost,
Or Scott's, the borrow'd coat was lost.
"Coat lost!" says he, stamping and staring,
Then stood like dumb, then fell to swearing: 895
He curs'd the ill-concluding ramble,
He curs'd Gravesend and mother Bramble.
But, while his rage he thus express'd,
And we his anger made our jest,
Till wrath had almost got the upper- 900
hand of his reason, in came supper:
To this at once his stomach turn'd,
No longer it with fury burn'd,
But hunger took the place of rage,
And a good meal did both assuage. 905
He eat and drank, he drank and eat,
The wine commended, and the meat:
So we did all, and sat so late,
That Wednesday morn we lay till eight.
Tobacco then, and wine provide, 910
Enough to serve us for this tide.
Get breakfast, and our reckoning pay,
And next prepare for London hey;
So, hiring to ourselves a wherry,
We put off, all alive and merry. 915
The tide was strong, fair was the wind,
Gravesend is soon left far behind,
Under the tilt on straw we lay,
Observing what a charming day,
There stretch'd at ease we smoke and drink, 920
Londoners like, and now we think
Our cross adventures all are past,
And that at Gravesend was the last:
But cruel Fate to that says no;
One yet shall Fortune find his foe. 925
While we (with various prospects cloy'd)
In clouds of smoke ourselves enjoy'd,
More diligent and curious, Scott
Into the forecastle had got,
And took his papers out, to draw 930
Some ships which right ahead he saw.
There sat he, on his work intent,
When, to increase our merriment,
So luckily we shipp'd a sea,
That he got sous'd, and only he. 935
This bringing to his mind a thought
How much he wanted the great coat,
Renew'd his anger and his grief;
He curs'd Gravesend, the coat, and thief;
And, still to heighten his regret, 940
His shirt was in his breeches wet:
He draws it out, and lets it fly,
Like a French ensign, till 'tis dry,
Then, creeping into shelter safe,
Joins with the company and laugh. 945
Nothing more happen'd worthy note:
At Billingsgate we change our boat,
And in another through bridge get,
By two, to Stairs of Somerset,
Welcome each other to the shore, 950
To Convent Garden walk once more,
And, as from Bedford Arms we started,
There wet our whistles ere we parted.
With pleasure I observe, none idle
Were in our travels, or employ'd ill, 955
Tottall, our treasurer, was just,
And worthily discharg'd his trust;
(We all sign'd his accounts as fair):
Sam Scott and Hogarth, for their share,
The prospects of the sea and land did; 960
As Thornhill of our tour the plan did;
And Forrest wrote this true relation
Of our five days peregrination.
This to attest, our names we've wrote all,
Viz. Thornhill, Hogarth, Scott, and Tothall. 965
[1] This drawing unluckily has not been preserved.
[2] The Royal Sovereign and Marlborough.
[3] Drawing II.
[4] Drawing III. The Castle by Hogarth; and some Shipping, riding near it, by Scott.
[5] Drawing IV.
[6] Drawing V.
[7] Drawing VI.
[8] Drawing VI.
[9] Drawing VII. by Scott.
[10] Drawing VIII. by Hogarth.
[11] This story is quoted by Mr. Grose in his Antiquities, Vol. II. art. Minster Monastery. "The legend," says Mr. Grose, "has, by a worthy friend of mine, been hitched into doggrel rhyme. It would be paying the reader but a bad compliment to attempt seriously to examine the credibility of the story."
[12] Drawing VIII.
[13] A cross-legg'd figure in armour, with a shield over his left arm, like that of a Knight Templar, said to represent Sir Robert de Shurland, who by Edward I. was created a Knight banneret for his gallant behaviour at the siege of Carlaverock in Scotland. He lies under a Gothic arch in the south-wall, having an armed page at his feet, and on his right side the head of a horse emerging out of the waves of the sea, as in the action of swimming. Grose.
William Tothall's Account of Disbursements
for Messieurs Hogarth and Co. viz.
| 1732, | ||||
| May | £. | s. | d. | |
| 27. | To paid at the Dark-house, Billingsgate, | 0 | 0 | 8½ |
| To paid for a pint of Geneva Hollands, | 0 | 1 | 0 | |
| To paid waterman to Gravesend, | 0 | 5 | 0 | |
| To paid barber ditto, | 0 | 0 | 10 | |
| To paid for breakfast at ditto, | 0 | 2 | 2 | |
| To paid for beer on the road to Rochester, | 0 | 0 | 9 | |
| To paid for shrimps at Chatham, | 0 | 0 | 9 | |
| To paid at the gunnery and dock, | 0 | 1 | 6 | |
| To paid bill at Rochester, | 1 | 7 | 3 | |
| 28. | To gave at Upnor for information, | 0 | 0 | 3 |
| To paid at the Smack at ditto, | 0 | 4 | 3 | |
| To paid at Hoo, | 0 | 1 | 8 | |
| To paid at Stoke, | 0 | 11 | 6 | |
| 29. | To paid at Mother Hubbard's at Grain, | 0 | 3 | 0 |
| To paid for passage over to Sheerness, | 0 | 21 | 0 | |
| To paid for lobsters at Queenborough, | 0 | 1 | 6 | |
| To paid for two pots of beer to treat the sexton, | 0 | 0 | 6 | |
| To paid for dinner, &c. | 0 | 6 | 6 | |
| To charity, gave the sailors, | 0 | 1 | 0 | |
| 30. | To paid for lodgings and maid, | 0 | 4 | 6 |
| To paid for breakfast, | 0 | 2 | 6 | |
| To paid for washing shirts, | 0 | 1 | 8 | |
| To paid at Minster, | 0 | 9 | 2 | |
| To paid at Sheerness, | 0 | 1 | 3 | |
| To paid for a boat to Gravesend, | 0 | 7 | 0 | |
| 31. | To paid barber at ditto, | 0 | 1 | 2 |
| To paid for sundry at ditto, | 1 | 0 | 3½ | |
| To paid for passage to Somerset-house, | 0 | 5 | 6 | |
| £.6 | 6 | 0 |
Vouchers produced, examined, and allowed,
Per E. Forrest, Sam. Scott, W. Hogarth, John Thornhill.
[GENERAL INDEX TO HOGARTH'S PLATES.]
A.
**ÆNEAS in a Storm, [247].
Agriculture and Arts, [423].
Altar-piece, St. Clement's, [136]. [492].
Analysis of Beauty, [325].
Apuleius, [127].
Arms, &c. [418]. [422]. [438].
B.
Battle of the Pictures, [281].
Beaver's Military Punishments, [134].
Beer-Street, [312].
Before and After, [233].
*Beggar's Opera, [164].
Bench, [367]. [403].
**Blackwell's Figures, [439].
Booth, Wilks, and Cibber, [141].
Boyne, Lord Viscount, [433].
Boys peeping at Nature, [188]. [319].
**Broad Bottoms, [449].
*Bullock, William, [407].
Burial Ticket, [419].
Burlington Gate, [28]. [175].
Butler, [442].
Byron, Lady Frances, [236].
C.
**Cartoons, Heads from, [437].
Cassandra, [134].
Catalogue, Frontispiece and Tail-piece to, [373].
Characters, and Caricaturas, [262].
Charlemont, Earl of, [411].
Charmers of the Age, [258].
Christ and his Disciples, &c.
large, [435].
Christ, &c. small, [435].
—with London Hospital, [435].
Churchill, Charles, [387].
—with Political Print, [400].
Cockpit, [367].
Columbus, [324].
Concert, St. Mary's Chapel, [445].
Consultation of Physicians, [236].
Coram, Captain, [260].
**Cottage. [441].
Credulity, &c. [375].
Crowns, &c. Subscription Ticket
for Elections, [332].
D.
Debates on Palmistry, [410].
*Discovery, [440].
Distressed Poet, [235].
Don Quixote, [435].
E.
Elections, [334].
Enraged Musician, [254].
*Eta Beta Pi, [Title-page], [63]. [415].
F.
Fair [Southwark, not Bartholomew as Mr. Walpole describes it], [180].
Farmer's Return, [374].
**Farinelli, Cuzzoni, and Senesino, &c. [138]. [439].
Festoon, &c. Subscription Ticket
for Richard III. [281].
Fielding, Henry, [385].
Finchley, March to, [299].
Fishes for Cards, [448].
Folkes, Martin, [257].
Foundling Hospital, Power of Attorney, [253].
*—Arms of, [288].
*—First Sketch for, [409].
Four Parts of the Day, [248].
France and England, [364].
Frontispiece to Leveridge's Songs, [160].
G.
Garrick in Richard III. [283].
Gate of Calais, [289].
Gibbs, James, [288].
*—octagon, [298].
Gin Lane, [313].
*Gin drinkers, [429].
Good Samaritan, [405].
Gormagons, [424].
**Great Seal of England, [439].
Gulliver presented to the Queen of Babilary, [171].
H.
*Half-starved Boy, [170].
Harlot's Progress, [29]. [188].
Head, etched by Livesay, [415].
*Hell-gate, [404].
Henley, Orator, christening, &c. [415]. [430].
Henry VIII. and Anna Bullen, [167].
*Herring, Archbp. small, [288].
—large, [297].
*Hesiod, [160].
*Highland Fair, or Scots Opera, [171].
Hoadly, large, [260].
—small, [370].
Hogarth, William, Engraver, Shop-Bill, [122].
—with Dog, [295].
**—small circle, [297].
—Serjeant Painter, [366].
—Black Mask, [367].
—with Hat on, [409].
Hogarth's Tour, [413].
*—Crest, [414].
—Cypher, [417].
Holland, Lord, [411].
Hudibras, large, [143].
—small, [144].
Huggins, William, [372].
Humours of Oxford, [169].
Hunt, Gabriel, [411].
Hutchinsonians, Frontispiece to Pamphlet against, [402].
*Hymen and Cupid, Ticket for Sigismunda, [436].
I.
Jacobites Journal, [288].
Industry and Idleness, [285].
Judith and Holofernes, [187].
Judith, Rehearsal, Ticket for, [202].
K.
Kirby's Perspective, [333].
L.
Landscape, [415].
Laughing Audience, [179].
Lecture, [246].
**Living Dog, [454].
Lock, Daniel, [435].
*London Infirmary, [444].
Lottery, [124].
Lovat, Lord, [282].
M.
Malcolm, Sarah, [172].
**Malta, Scene by a Knight of, [437].
Marriage Alamode, [262].
Masquerades, &c. small, [128].
Masquerade, large, [150].
**Master of the Vineyard, [444].
Milton, [419].
Milward's Ticket, [423].
Midnight Modern Conversation, [202].
*Moliere, Frontispieces to, [171].
*Moses and Pharaoh's daughter, [324].
Morell, Dr. [384].
Motraye's Travels, [125].
Five Muscovites, [126].
Music introduced to Apollo, [150].
N.
**North and South, [407].
O.
*Oratory, [429].
P.
*Palmer, John, [295].
Paul, &c. burlesqued, [320].
Paul before Felix, [323].
—as first designed, [323].
Perriwigs, Five Orders of, [373].
*Pellet, Dr. [407].
Perseus and Medusa, [170].
Perseus descending, [170].
Pine, [434].
Political Clyster, [331].
*Politician, [407].
Pool of Bethesda, small, [289].
—large, [405].
**Pug the Painter, [441].
R.
Rabbit-breeder, [23]. [146]. [461].
Rake's Progress, [17]. [207].
*Ranby's House, [435].
Rape of the Lock, [423].
Read, Benjamin, [411].
*Rich's Glory, [161].
Royalty, Episcopacy, and Law, [442].
S.
Sancho, [428].
Search-night, [365].
Shop-bills, &c. [417].
Shrimp-Girl, [411].
Sleeping Congregation, [234].
Solfull, [407].
South Sea, [122].
Spiller's Ticket, [444].
Stage Coach, [284].
Stages of Cruelty, [316].
Stand of Arms, &c. Subscription Ticket for Finchley, [284].
Stay-maker, [410].
Strolling Actresses, [251].
T.
Tail-piece to his Works, [402].
*Tankard, [428].
Taste in High Life, [259].
Taylor, George, Two Sketches for his Monument, [412].
Taylor's Perspective, [371].
Terræ Filius, [143].
Ticket Porter, [438].
Time blackening a Picture, Subscription Ticket for Sigismunda, [373].
The Times, [375].
Tom Thumb, [171].
Tristram Shandy, vol. I. [370].
—vol. II. [374].
**Two Figures, [409].
W.
Weighing House, [401].
Wilkes, John, [88]. [386].
Woman swearing a Child, &c. [121]. [431].
The articles marked thus * are omitted in Mr. Walpole's Catalogue.
Those marked ** are likewise omitted by Mr. Walpole; but it must be acknowledged they are of doubtful authority, though introduced on the faith of the following collectors and artists:
| Hogarth, small circle, | Mr. Basire. |
| Æneas in a storm, | Dr. Ducarel. |
| Beggar's Opera, | Dr. Lort. |
| Blackwell's Figures, | Mr. Ireland |
| Cottage, | " |
| Master of the Vineyard. | " |
| Pug the Painter, | " |
| Farinelli, Cuzzoni, | Mr. Rogers. |
| and Heidegger, | " |
| Gin-drinkers, | " |
| Cartoons, Heads, from Two Figures, | Mr. Livesay. |
| Oratory, | Mr. Nichols. |
| Malta, Scene, &c. | " |
| Bullock, | Mr. Thane. |
| Butler, | " |
| Pellet, | " |
| North and South, | " |
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