November 19, 1810. [A Hit at Backgammon.] Published by T. Tegg (No. 46).
November 20, 1810. Medical Despatch, or Doctor Doubledose Killing Two Birds with One Stone. Published by T. Tegg (47).—Reclining back in an armchair is an old invalid lady, evidently at the last gasp; her end is made still more certain by opium and composing draughts placed ready to her hand. On the armchair of the ghastly sufferer leans a pretty buxom girl in the flush of womanhood, who is wavering between grief and rapture—tears for her departing relative and regard for the caresses of the practitioner, who is dismissing his patient and courting a bride at the same moment. While one hand of the perfidious Doctor is carelessly holding the pulse of the sinking woman his arm is thrown round the neck of the blooming maiden, his fat features are expressive of maudlin tenderness, and his eyes are turned upwards in awkward admiration.
November 20, 1810. Bath Races. Published by T. Tegg (49).—The race appropriately starts from 'Cripple's Corner;' the halt, the maimed, and the lame are the competitors; it is, in fact, a race of Bath chairs and crutches, all tearing and tumbling down hill and blowing in the wind; the gouty hangers behind being urged forward, pushed, whipped, and cheered on by the delighted spectators. The city of Bath is slightly indicated in the rear.
November 30, 1810. [Doctor Drainbarrel conveyed Home in a Wheelbarrow], in order to take his Trial for Neglect of Family Duty. Published by T. Tegg (23).
DR. DRAINBARREL CONVEYED HOME IN A WHEELBARROW.
November 30, 1810. After Sweet Meat comes Sour Sauce, or Corporal Cazey got into the Wrong Box. Rowlandson del. Published by T. Tegg (24).—The Corporal has incautiously been paying a secret visit to a fine, plump and well-favoured damsel, on whose affections, it would seem, the man of war has no legitimate claim. The lady is snugly disposing her lover in a strong-box, with iron clamps, probably the sea-chest of the lawful proprietor of the chamber. Before closing the lid on the captive swain the buxom maid, at whose waist hangs the key of the chest, is favouring the suitor with a parting kiss. An old 'salt,' his few remaining hairs bristling with indignation and resentment, is looking in at the window and surveying the entire transaction before making his entrance on the scene. That the Corporal has fairly got into the 'wrong box' is further hinted by a trap at his side, in which an unfortunate rat is securely imprisoned.
1810. The Harmonic Society. 'The Assemblies of women are too frequently marked by malice to each other, and slander of the absent; the meetings of men by noise, inebriety, and wrangling.'—A companion scene to The Breaking up of a Blue Stocking Club (March 1, 1815). The direst disorder, according to the plate, is proceeding around on all sides: the conflict of fists, aided by such aggressive articles as bottles, the fireirons, and any offensive weapon that may come to hand, is raging free and furious. The president of this harmonic meeting is very naturally employing his hammer to bring the turbulent to order, by using it as an instrument to knock down his opponents. Wigs are sent flying 'through space,' chairs are wrecked; decanters, spirit-bottles, punchbowls, and such frail objects as tumblers, rummers, and wine-glasses, are involved in universal destruction. One elated youthful hero has jumped on the table in a tipsy frolic; he is promoting the further confusion which darkness will entail by deliberately smashing up the candles, and battering the sconces of the chandelier with the assistance of a punch-ladle.
1810. The Sign of the Four Alls.—The four personages who constitute this famous view of the relative estates of the realm stand under niches; the head of the State is the first represented; and next, of course, is the Church; then the powers militant; and lastly, as a sort of necessary evil, the commonalty—perhaps better kept out of sight altogether, since the presence of the representative of this portion of the empire is not acknowledged by the other three, his pastors and masters. Number one, George the Third; the King in this case is represented strutting in awful but somewhat awkward majesty. To quote a national but lowly authority, Giles Grinagain:—