I have been told, that Mr. Garrick, when he first appeared in the character of Bayes, taking the same liberty, received instantly such a message from one of the stage boxes, as prevented him from practising so insolent a stroke of mimickry a second time.
In spite of the confidence with which this plate has been attributed to Hogarth, I by no means believe it was his performance. It more resembles the manner of Vandergucht, who was equally inclined to personal satire, however his talents might be inadequate to his purposes. Witness several scattered designs of his in the very same style of engraving. I may add, that he always exerted his talents in the service of the Tory faction. Besides, there is nothing in the plate before us which might not have been expected from the hand of any common artist. The conceit of the blasts issuing from the posteriors of the Æolian tribe, is borrowed from one of the prints to Scarron's Travesty of Virgil; and the figure of Britannia is altogether insipid and unworthy of Hogarth. Our artist also was too much accustomed to sailing parties, and too accurate an observer of objects on The Thames, not to have known that our Royal Yachts are vessels without three masts, &c.
[1] Bunbury.
[2] The author had here left a blank, which I have ventured to fill up with the royal name.
1738.
1. The Four Parts of the Day.[1] Invented, painted, engraved, and published by W. Hogarth. Mr. Walpole observes that these plates, "except the last, are inferior to few of his works." We have been told that Hogarth's inclination to satire once cost him a legacy. It seems that the figure of the Old Maid, in the print of Morning, was taken either from an acquaintance or relation of his. At first she was well enough satisfied with her resemblance; but some designing people teaching her to be angry, she struck the painter out of her will, which had been made considerably in his favour. This story we have heard often related by those whom, on other occasions, we could readily believe. In the same print is a portrait of Dr. Rock, who formerly attended Covent-Garden market every morning.
To the propriety of Hogarth's having introduced a scene of riot within King's Coffee-house, the following quotation from The Weekly Miscellany for June 9, 1739, bears sufficient testimony: "Monday Mrs. Mary King of Covent-Garden was brought up to the King's Bench Bar at Westminster, and received the following sentence, for keeping a disorderly house; viz. to pay a fine of £.200, to suffer three months imprisonment, to find security for her good behaviour for three years, and to remain in prison till the fine be paid." As it was impossible she could carry on her former business, as soon as the time of her imprisonment was ended, she retired with her savings, built three houses on Haverstock hill, near Hampstead, and died in one of them, September 1747. Her own mansion was afterwards the last residence of the celebrated Nancy Dawson;[2] and the three together are still distinguished by the appellation of Moll King's Row. Perhaps the use of the mirror in reversing objects was not yet understood by our engravers, for in Hogarth's painting the late Mr. West's house (now Lowe's Hotel) is properly situated on the left of Covent-garden church. In the print it appears on the contrary side.
The Crying Boy in Noon was sketched by Hogarth from a picture by N. Poussin of the Rape of the Sabines, at Mr. Hoare's at Stourhead. The school boy's kite lodged on the roof of a building, was introduced only to break the disagreeable uniformity of a wall.