A NEW SPEAKER.
February 6, 1789. [A New Speaker]. Published by H. Holland, Oxford Street.—Addington, the Speaker, is at his table. Pitt, standing behind him, has thrust a speaking trumpet into his mouth, through which the orator, to the amazement of the other members, is holding forth: 'Eyes has he and sees not, neither is there any breath in his mouth, but through the hollow of his head shall the sound of my own voice be exalted, and through the stuttering of his tongue my intentions be more fully explained. Keep together, my good friends, till I go out, and you will then probably follow me, but I will work changes for you. See how this rank Tory becomes a good Whig!' The mace is lying on the table beside the 'City Address, 50,000l.; Aldermen Hoppikicky, Squintum, Peter Grievous, &c.,' and a proposed List of Taxes, which includes such items as Fox-tails, Play (i.e. gambling) Houses &c., fanciful personal enactments levelled against Pitt's great rival.
February 7, 1789. Britannia's Support, or the Conspirators Defeated. Published by H. Holland, Oxford Street.—The Prince, who is looking somewhat ill at ease under the circumstances, has been attacked by Pitt and his allies, the Stuart dukes. Pitt is aiming an awkward blow at the tutelary divinity and her protégé with a terrible-looking axe. The Duke of Richmond is firing a musket; and the Duke of Grafton, as a midnight assassin, is operating with a dagger and a dark lantern. Britannia has taken the Heir Apparent to her arms, and is shielding the menaced Prince with her person.
February 7, 1789. The Hospital for Lunatics.—A companion to the preceding. The results of the Tory excitement have landed certain sufferers in the Lunatic Asylum. The mad doctor is going his rounds, he is declaring; 'I see no signs of convalescence!' His assistant, following with a few strait-waistcoats for the refractory patients, is supporting the opinion of his chief: 'They must all be in a state of coercion!' Pitt is the first sufferer; he is wearing a coronet of straws, and is waving a sceptre of twigs; over his head is the notice: 'Went mad, supposing himself next heir to a Crown.' In the adjoining cell is the Duke of Richmond, who is buried in the contemplation of toy cannons—'Went mad in the study of fortifications.' Next to him is another victim, 'Driven mad by a political itching.'
February 7, 1789. Britannia's Support.
February 15, 1789. Going in State to the House of Peers, or a Piece of English Magnificence; dedicated to Mr. Pitt and his 267 Liberal friends. Published by William Holland, 50 Oxford Street.—This print, with one or two others of similar character, have been attributed to Kingsbury. A careful comparison of these doubtful plates, with the more recognised etchings of both Rowlandson and Kingsbury, has led the writer to the conclusion that several at least of the caricatures published by Holland at this time, owe their existence, at least in part, to the skill of the former, although he has in some degree modified his usual handling.
The Heir Apparent is proceeding in burlesque state to the chamber of Peers. A ragged mob is in attendance. The arms on his carriage are turned upside down, coachman and footmen are of the shabbiest, and the slovenly coach is drawn by eight miserable animals, who can barely crawl, while one of the broken-kneed leaders has actually come to grief. The Tories have taken their places at certain windows to view the procession. The Duke of Orleans (who was on a visit to this country), or the French Ambassador, is amazed at such a dowdy spectacle; next to his window is Lord Amherst. The Stuart-Dukes of Richmond and Grafton, sharing a window, are agreeing that the Prince's turn-out is 'Well enough for any of the Brunswick race;' they have put up at the sign of the 'Lion in the Toils.' The Marquis of Carmarthen is saying, 'Very pretty indeed;' he is at the sign of 'The Restrictions' (a picture of the Prince in the pillory is on the signboard); his neighbour Pitt is declaring the show to be 'a very magnificent spectacle, upon my honour.' Lords Hood and Chatham, at the sign of 'The Chatham and Hood,' a frigate labouring in a storm being the signboard, are on the look-out: 'The great naval review was nothing to it.' Lord Chatham is assuring his companion that the show is 'infinitely superior to my father's funeral.' Lord Thurlow is asseverating with an oath, 'It eclipses all that has been ever seen in Rome!'
March 6, 1789. A Sweating for Opposition, by Dr. Willis Dominisweaty and Co. Published by S. W. Fores.—The health of the King, according to the reports of his physicians, began to improve from this date. It was hinted rather broadly that this intelligence was not so agreeable to the Opposition as they might desire. The print sets forth the new treatment by which the growing consequence of the Whigs was to be reduced. The several patients are placed in small furnaces, with a blazing fire below each; the doctors are attending to the stoking with a will. Burke is becoming quite limp in the process: 'I have got no juice left.' Fox is becoming furious; he is gesticulating and shouting, 'I have sweated enough.' Sheridan is venemous: 'This is scandalous; the Baily's (Bailiffs) have sufficiently sweated me!' The Prince, in an agony, is crying: 'I suppose they call this a Regency sweat.' A lady next to him is declaring: 'I sweat with desire.' Weltjé, the Prince's house-steward and head cook—a man who enjoyed considerable reputation in spite of the satirists—is asserting: 'I never sweat so much at cooking in my life.' Mrs. Fitzherbert, who is separated from her admirer, is highly indignant: 'I sweat with jealousy; what disregard to the marriage right!'