The Duchess is attending to the tea urn; above her head hangs the Reynolds portrait of her liege lord. Sam House, in his publican's jacket, is seated, stirring a cup of tea, on the sofa beside Fox, who is familiarly patting his friend and indefatigable ally on his bald head by way of friendly encouragement.
Sam House was one of the most popular figures of his day, and he came into especial prominence, as we have seen, during the Fox's canvass. He is said to have kept open house during the Westminster Election at his own expense, and was honoured by entertaining the great Whig nobility. He was an indefatigable supporter of Fox, and his assistance was, as may be supposed, of no trifling moment to the cause.
See brave Sammy House, he's as still as a mouse, And does canvass with prudence so clever; See what shoals with him flocks to poll for brave Fox; Give thanks to Sam House, boys, for ever, for ever, for ever! Give thanks to Sam House, boys, for ever!
Brave bald-headed Sam, all must own, is the man Who does canvass for brave Fox so clever; His aversion, I say, is to small beer and Wray! May his bald head be honour'd for ever, for ever, for ever! May his bald head be honour'd for ever!
April 20, 1784. The Covent Garden Nightmare.—This subject is a parody on a painting by Fuseli. Rowlandson has taken the idea and fitted it to the purpose of an electioneering squib. Fox is represented stretched in an uneasy slumber, nightmare-ridden. An unearthly incubus oppresses his body and haunts his repose; a corpulent imp is crouched on his hams pressing the great man's chest, while the head and shoulders of a supernatural mare are shown making their appearance through the bed-curtains. On a table by Fox's side are shown the dice and dicebox, the satirist's inevitable resource when dealing with the frailties of the 'man of the people,' who, it must be confessed, had in his day committed sufficient excesses in the way of gambling; a vice he absolutely renounced in after-life, but not before it had ruined his purse, imperilled his reputation, and proved a fruitful source of recrimination in the mouths of his enemies.
April 22, 1784. Madame Blubber on her Canvass.—We find the Duchess of Devonshire and the Honourable Mrs. Hobart—the most prominent of the fair electioneering agents who threw the power of their personal charms into the political arena—scandalised alternately; her Grace the fascinating Georgiana was represented as a softening influence by which the votes of the butchers were secured; we find Pitt's fair champion, Madame Blubber (Lady Buckinghamshire), endeavouring to cajole the same classes in identical fashion. The lady, who, it must be acknowledged, was somewhat stout, is trying her hand amongst the rough sellers of meat; she is holding out a purse as a bait, saying, 'Hood and Wray, my dear butcher;' the butcher's dogs are regarding the canvasser suspiciously; their master, at ease in his armchair, without moving his pipe from his mouth, is puffing out bluntly, 'I'm engaged to the Duchess!' 'Pho! give her a glass,' suggests the butcher's friend, who is drinking punch with him from a bowl on which is the figure of a fox, the chopping-block serving as their table. Madame Blubber has a train of appreciative butcher's men in her wake; one is declaring that she is 'the fattest cattle he ever handled!' a drover is observing, 'Lincolnshire, dammee!' and a lad with a tray pronounces her a 'plumper!'
THE COURT CANVASS OF MADAME BLUBBER.
To the Tune of 'The First Time at the Looking-glass.'
A certain lady I won't name Must take an active part, sir, To show that Devon's beauteous dame Should not engage each heart, sir. She canvass'd all, both great and small, And thunder'd at each door, sir; She rummaged every shop and stall— The Duchess was still before her.