The portrait hanging up in the Jew's apartment was originally subscribed "Mr. Woolston." There was a scriptural motto to one of the other pictures; and on the cieling of the room in which the girl is dying, a certain obscene word was more visible than it is at present. The former inscription on the paper now inscribed Dr. Rock, was also a gross one. I should in justice add, that before these plates were delivered to the subscribers, the offensive particulars here mentioned were omitted.
The following paragraph in The Grub-street Journal for September 24, 1730, will sufficiently justify the splendid appearance the Harlot makes in Bridewell. See Plate IV. Such well-dressed females are rarely met with in our present houses of correction.
"One Mary Muffet, a woman of great note in the hundreds of Drury, who, about a fortnight ago, was committed to hard labour in Tothill-fields Bridewell, by nine justices, brought his Majesty's writ of Habeas Corpus, and was carried before the right honourable the lord chief justice Raymond, expecting to have been either bailed or discharged; but her commitment appearing to be legal, his lordship thought fit to remand her back again to her former place of confinement, where she is now beating hemp in a gown very richly laced with silver."
Rouquet concludes his illustration of the fifth plate by observing, that the story might have been concluded here. "L'auteur semble avoir rempli son dessein. Il a suivi son heroine jusques au dernier soupir. Il l'a conduite de l'infamie à la pauvreté, par les voies séduisantes du libertinage. Son intention de tâcher de retenir, ou de corriger celles qui leur foiblesse, ou leur ignorance exposent tous les jours à de semblables infortunes, est suffisament executée; on peut donc dire que la tragedie finit à cette planche, et que la suivante est comme le petite piece. C'est une farce done la defunte est plustôt l'occasion que le sujet."—Such is the criticism of Rouquet; but I cannot absolutely concur in the justness of it. Hogarth found an opportunity to convey admonition, and enforce his moral, even in this last plate. It is true that the exploits of our heroine are concluded, and that she is no longer an agent in her own story. Yet as a wish prevails, even among those who are most humbled by their own indiscretions, that some respect should be paid to their remains, that they should be conducted by decent friends to the grave, and interred by a priest who feels for the dead that hope expressed in our Liturgy, let us ask whether the memory of our Harlot meets with any such marks of social attention, or pious benevolence. Are not the preparations for her funeral licentious, like the course of her life, as if the contagion of her example had reached all the company in the room? Her sisters in iniquity alone surround her coffin. One of them is engaged in the double trade of seduction and thievery. A second is admiring herself in a mirror. A third gazes with unconcern on the corpse. If any of the number appear mournful, they express at best but a maudlin sorrow, having glasses of strong liquor in their hands. The very minister, forgetful of his office and character, is shamefully employed; nor does a single circumstance occur, throughout the whole scene, that a reflecting female would not wish should be alienated from her own interment.—Such is the plate which our illustrator, with too much levity, has styled a farce appended to a tragic representation.
He might, however, have exercised his critical abilities with more success on Hogarth's neglect of propriety, though it affords him occasion to display his wit. At the burial of a wanton, who expired in a garret, no escutcheons were ever hung up, or rings given away; and I much question if any bawd ever chose to avow that character before a clergyman, or any infant was ever habited as chief mourner to attend a parent to the grave.—I may add, that when these pictures were painted (a time, if news-papers are to be credited, when, having no established police, every act of violence and licentiousness was practised with impunity in our streets, and women of pleasure were brutally persecuted in every quarter of the town), a funeral attended by such a sisterhood would scarcely have been permitted to reach the place of interment. Much however must be forgiven to the morality of Hogarth's design, and the powers with which it is executed. It may also, on the present occasion, be observed, that in no other scene, out of the many he has painted, has he so widely deviated from vraisemblance.
The following verses, however wretched, being explanatory of the set of plates already spoken of, are here re-printed. They made their appearance under the earliest and best of the pirated copies published by Bowles. Hogarth, finding that such a metrical description had its effect, resolved that his next series of prints should receive the same advantage from an abler hand.
Plate I.
See there, but just arriv'd in town,
The Country Girl in home-spun gown,
Tho' plain her dress appears, how neat!
Her looks how innocent and sweet!
Does not your indignation rise,
When on the bawd you cast your eyes?
Fraught with devices to betray;
She's hither come in quest of prey;
Screens her designs with godly airs,
And talks of homilies and pray'rs,
Till, by her arts, the wretched Maid
To vile Francisco is betray'd.
And see, the lewd old rogue appears,
How at the fresh young thing thing he leers!
In lines too strong, too well exprest
The lustful satyr stands confest.
On batter'd jade, in thread-bare gown,
The Rural Priest is come to town—
Think what his humble thought engages;
Why—lesser work and greater wages.
Plate II.
Debauch'd, and then kick'd out of doors,
The fate of all Francisco's whores,
Poor Polly's forc'd to walk the streets,
Till with a wealthy Jew she meets.
Quickly the man of circumcision
For her reception makes provision.
You see her now in all her splendour,
A Monkey and a Black t' attend her.
How great a sot's a keeping cully,
Who thinks t' enjoy a woman solely!
Tho' he support her grandeur, Miss
Will by the bye with others kiss.
Thus Polly play'd her part; she had
A Beau admitted to her bed;
But th' Hebrew coming unexpected,
Puts her in fear to be detected.
This to prevent, she at breakfast picks
A quarrel, and insulting kicks
The table down: while by her Maid
The Beau is to the door convey'd.
Plate III.
Molly discarded once again,
Takes lodgings next in Drury-lane;
Sets up the business on her own
Account, and deals with all the town.
At breakfast here in deshabille,
While Margery does the tea-pot fill,
Miss holds a watch up, which, by slight
Of hand, was made a prize last night.
From chandler's shop a dab of butter,
Brought on his lordship's Pastoral Letter,
A cup, a saucer, knife, and roll,
Are plac'd before her on a stool.
A chair behind her holds a cloak,
A candle in a bottle stuck,
And by't a bason—but indecent
T'would be in me to say what is in't.
At yonder door, see there Sir John's
Just ent'ring with his Myrmidons,
To Bridewell to convey Miss Molly,
And Margery with her to Mill Dolly.[8]
Plate IV.
See Polly now in Bridewell stands,
A galling mallet in her hands,
Hemp beating with a heavy heart,
And not a soul to take her part.
The Keeper, with a look that's sourer
Than Turk or Devil, standing o'er her:
And if her time she idles, thwack
Comes his rattan across her back.
A dirty, ragged, saucy Jade,
Who sees her here in rich brocade
And Mechlin lace, thumping a punny,
Lolls out her tongue, and winks with one eye.
That other Maux with half a nose,
Who's holding up her tatter'd cloaths,
Laughs too at Madam's working-dress,
And her grim Tyrant's threat'ning face,
A Gamester hard by Poll you see,
In coat be-lac'd and smart toupee.
Kate vermin kills—chalk'd out upon
A window-shutter, hangs Sir John.
Plate V.
Released from Bridewell, Poll again
Drives on her former trade amain;
But who e'er heard of trading wenches
That long escap'd disease that French is?
Our Polly did not—Ills on ills,
Elixirs, boluses and pills,
Catharticks and emeticks dreary,
Had made her of her life quite weary;
At last thrown into salivation
She sinks beneath the operation.
A snuffling whore in waiting by her
Screams out to see the wretch expire.
The Doctors blame each other; Meagre,
With wrath transported, hot and eager,
Starts up, throws down the chair and stool,
And calls her brother Squab a fool.
Your pills, quoth Squab, with cool disdain,
Not my elixir, prov'd her bane.
While they contend, a muffled Punk
Is rummaging poor Polly's trunk.
Plate VI.
The sisterhood of Drury-lane
Are met to form the funeral train.
Priss turns aside the coffin lid,
To take her farewell of the dead.
Kate drinks dejected; Peggy stands
With dismal look, and wrings her hands.
Beck wipes her eyes; and at the glass
In order Jenny sets her face.
The ruin'd Bawd roars out her grief;
Her bottle scarcely gives relief.
Madge fills the wine; his castle-top
With unconcern the Boy winds up.
The Undertaker rolls his eyes
On Sukey, as her glove he tries:
His leering she observes, and while he
Stands thus, she picks his pocket slily.
The Parson sits with look demure
By Fanny's side, but leaning to her.
His left hand spills the wine; his right—
I blush to add—is out of sight.
Over the figure of the Parson is the letter A, which conducts to the following explanation underneath the plate. "A. The famous Couple-Beggar in The Fleet, a wretch who there screens himself from the justice due to his villainies, and daily repeats them."
All but the first impressions of this set of plates are marked thus †. None were originally printed off except for the 1200 subscribers. Immediately after they were served, the plates were retouched, and some of the variations introduced.
[1] In The Craftsman of Nov. 25, 1732, we read, "This day is published, six prints in chiaro oscuro, of The Harlot's Progress, from the designs of Mr. Hogarth, in a beautiful green tint, by Mr. E. Kirkall, with proper explanations under each print. Printed and sold by E. Kirkall, in Dockwell-court, White-Fryars; Phil. Overton, in Fleet-street; H. Overton and J. Hoole, without Newgate; J. King, in the Poultry; and T. Glass, under the Royal Exchange."