'Lord Barrymore had that morning, unknown to us, contrived to dress Tom Hooper, the tin-man (one of the first pugilists of that time), as a clergyman, to be in waiting at Vauxhall, in case we should get into any dispute. This fistic knight now filled the place of a lackey, and was constantly behind the carriage, a sworn votary of black eyes and disfigured faces. His black clothes, formal hat, hair powdered and curled round, so far disguised him that he was unknown to us all at first, though Hooper's queer dialect must have soon discovered him to the waiters. This was a ruse de guerre of Lord Barrymore's. About three o'clock, whilst at supper, Lord Falkland, Henry Barry, Sir Francis Molineux, &c., were of our party; there was at this time a continual noise and rioting, and the arrack punch was beginning to operate.
'On a sudden all were seen running towards the orchestra, the whole garden seemed to be in confusion, and our party, all impatience, sallied out, those at the further end of the box walking over the table, kicking down the dishes. It seems that the effects of the punch had not only got into Hooper's head but had excited an influence over his fists, for he was for fighting with everybody. A large ring was made, and, advancing in a boxing attitude, he offered to fight anyone; but all retired before him. Felix McCarthy, a tall, handsome Irishman, well known by everybody at that time, soon forced his way through the crowd and collared him, at the same time saying, "You rascal, you are Hooper, the boxer; if you do not leave the garden this instant I'll kick you out." The affrighted crowd, who before retreated as he approached them, now came forward, when Hooper, finding himself surrounded, and hearing a general cry of "Kick him out!" made his retreat as fast as possible, thus avoiding the fury of those who would not have spared him out of the gardens, if he had been caught. We found him at five in the morning behind Lord Barrymore's carriage, with the coachman's great-coat on, congratulating himself upon having avoided the vengeance of those to whom, a short time previously, he had been an object of fear.'
July 24, 1785. The Slang Society.
August 11, 1785. Introduction.—There is hardly sufficient authority to warrant the editor in directly ascribing this print to Rowlandson; the work is evidently early, and very French in the characteristics of costumes, surroundings, and subject. There are points in the etched outline and in the general spirit and method of execution, which lead to the impression that Rowlandson is at least answerable for the etching and mezzotinting of the design. From the costumes worn by the figures the date of the subject may be assumed to be some time before the French Revolution. An overdressed old abbess, her head and shoulders enveloped in a cardinal, is introducing a French peer, who is toothless and decrepit, to a tall and fashionably-attired beauty, who is rising to receive the visitor with an air of dignified modesty.
AËROSTATION OUT AT ELBOWS, OR THE ITINERANT AËRONAUT.
September 5, 1785. [Aërostation out at Elbows], or the Itinerant Aëronaut.
Vincent Lunardi.