January 4, 1784. The Fall of Dagon, or Rare News for Leadenhall Street. Published by William Humphrey, 227 Strand.
And behold Dagon was fallen upon his face to the ground before the ark of the Lord, and the head of Dagon and both the palms of his hands were cut off upon the threshold.
The image of Dagon, which in this case is borrowed to typify the Coalition Ministers, has fallen from the overset Broad Bottom pedestal, and is in the posture described by the quotation; its double-faced head wears the profiles of North and Fox. Tower Hill is represented in the background; a scaffold is erected, and the public executioner is just bringing down his axe on the neck of a traitor—a delicate compliment to the heads of the late Administration. John Bull has changed the sign of his house to The Axe, and he is composedly enjoying his pipe under its shadow.
January 7, 1784. The Loves of the Fox and the Badger, or the Coalition Wedding. Published by W. Humphrey, 227 Strand.—Nine small compartments, very neatly executed upon one plate, are employed to portray the unpopular Coalition Ministry between Fox and North. (1) The Fox beats the Badger in the Bear Garden. The unwieldy form of the Badger (Lord North) lies, apparently asleep, on the floor of 'the House;' the Fox, with his brush erect in triumph, is in command of the situation. (2) The Fox has been throwing dice on Hounslow Heath, and he has a dream; the vision seems to indicate a choice between a prison or a traitor's head on a spike. (3) The Badger, with his riband, tucked up comfortably on a sofa, also indulges in a dream; the objects offered for his selection are seemingly the gallows or an executioner's block. (4) Satan unites them; the arch-fiend, in person, is joining their paws and pronouncing the magic spell, 'Necessity.' (5) They quarter their arms. Their new escutcheon is symbolical; above a scroll marked 'Money' the twin supporters are holding up a well-filled Treasury-bag, borne by John Bull, above whose head flourishes a pair of donkey's ears. (6) The priest advertises the wedding. The Devil, presiding at the pay-table, is enlisting the advocacy of the press, and three editors, in return for substantial considerations, are respectively promising: 'I'll Chronicle the Coalition,' 'We will Post them,' 'Harry will take both sides.' (7) The Honeymoon or Eddystone Lighthouse; the pair are making up a flaming beacon. (8) The New Orator Henley, or the Churching. The happy pair are now in their glory, seated on a throne in the 'Bear Garden,' and surrounded at a respectful distance by the heads (stuck on poles) of the members of their new Parliament, and described as a 'Mopstick majority.' The churching is proceeding; the original pastor is still present, and is prompting Orator Henley, whose tub stands on a block, labelled, 'Honest Jack Lee;' the Orator is holding forth a parchment, and declaring, 'A charter is nothing but a piece of parchment with a great seal dangling to it;' to which pious deduction his clerk mounted on 'A Seat for Portsmouth,' is crying, 'Necessity. Amen.' (9) The Wedding Dance and Song. The pair, now led by the nose by their Satanic friend, are perforce compelled to execute a pretty lively dance, as their conductor wills. They are singing this appropriate epithalamium:—
Come, we're all Rogues together; The people must pay for the play: Then let us make Hay in fine weather, And keep the cold winter away!
It seemed, at the beginning of 1784, as if Fox were completely master of the political situation, and indeed he approached much nearer to an absolute control of the Administration than he was ever destined to reach again during the lifetime of his great opponent. The bold manœuvres of Pitt, backed by the royal favour—the King and his friends condescending to dissimulation and subterfuge where honest policy would not suffice their turn—were crowned with unexpected success, and the Cromwell of the hour fell suddenly from his influential eminence. Up to the famous Westminster Election, Fox was paramount, both in Parliament and out of doors; for although Pitt was actually Crown-Minister, both he and his party were almost powerless when arrayed against the members of the ex-Coalition Ministry, their opponents, led by Fox, and his strong following, who were the real masters of the situation; thus we find a very characteristic portrait of the Friend of Liberty and of the People introduced, with an allusion to Cromwell.
January 19, 1784. His Highness the Protector.—The supplies are kept with a tight hand; and Fox, taking advantage of his power, has put a huge padlock on the door of the Treasury, the key of which he seems determined to retain in his own keeping; a small dagger, held in the popular champion's right hand, indicates that he is prepared to stand on the defensive. His colleague Lord North, with his star round his neck, appears as a bulldog, who is supporting his leader in keeping the supplies inviolate.
The apprehensions of the Pittites (whose chances of retaining the reins of administration in defiance of an Opposition too strong for their policy, now seemed desperate), pictured forth the total subversion of Throne and State; and it was under this influence that the King—whose stubborn will was strengthened by contradiction—indulged his threat of retiring to his German possessions, if he could not secure the return to office of his particular friends, whose hopes of recovering their lost control of the State were somewhat forlorn previous to the election; while Fox, on the other hand, was endeavouring to force the King to accede to the measures he had introduced for the restriction of the royal prerogative. A very complete, but necessarily over-coloured, view of the anticipations of 'the party' is thus pictured forth by Rowlandson.
January 23, 1784. The Times, or a View of the Old House in Little Britain,—with Nobody going to Hanover. Published by W. Humphrey, 227 Strand.—The Old House is seemingly in a bad way; the foundation is Public Credit; the Funds, represented as a grilled gate, are secured with a huge padlock; the Royal Crown and Sceptre are placed on a block, and marked for sale; seated on another block, labelled Protector, sits the fox, guarding the Treasury; round his waist is a chain secured to the Coalition-pillar, which is depicted as rather a twisted support. Lord North has perched his unwieldy person upon a turnstile, and is crying, indifferent to consequences, 'Give me my ease, and do as you please.' The upper part of the Old House is raising more cause for mistrust, since the old building is overweighted and crushed with a mass of Taxes, piled on the roof, the accumulated pressure of 'the accursed ten years' American war, fomented by the Opposition and misconducted by a timid Minister.' A light balcony has been thrown out, and therein things are proceeding in true showman style. Burke is officiating as exhibitor, and blowing through a trumpet; another statesman is doing the harlequin-business; merry-andrew 'Sherry' is flourishing his bottle and dancing round the corner of the balcony, on which is a placard announcing a wonderful combination of attractions: 'The Scarlet Woman of Babylon, the Devil, and the Pope.' 'The Man of the People' is pictured as a feather,—on the flag of the party. The sign of the Old House, Magna Charta, has fallen to tatters, and the board is dropping down; two lawyers, who appear at the window, are repairing the edifice according to their theories; one of the props of the edifice, the Lords, is spared, but the other, prerogative of the Crown, is being lopped off by one of the legal magnates. The King is turning his back on the place, and starting in a state coach on his way to Hanover, deaf and blind to the prayers of some of his subjects, who are imploring the royal compassion on their knees. The Sun of England's Glory is setting in the distance, and an eye of light, piercing through the clouds, is warning the retiring monarch to 'Turn out these robbers and repair the House.'
February 3. The Infant Hercules.—Another caricature was directed against the ex-Coalition Ministers, representing them as twin serpents whose tails ('American War' and 'East India Bill') are entwined; the heads of Fox and North appear on the shoulders of the monster. Pitt is figured as the infant Hercules; he has taken his seat on the 'Shield of Chatham,' and has grasped the throats of the serpents, the tails of which are already lopped off. 'These,' he cries, 'were your Ministers.'