What! he the King? Why, that chap there?
Why, I saw a king at Bartholomew Fair
More like a king than that chap there!
The Bishop, a snug ecclesiastic, a remnant possibly of the bad old school of the Clarke preferments, all wig, lawn sleeves, mitre, and crozier, is raising his fat hands with sanctimonious import—'I pray for all.' As to the soldier, the military officer drawn by Rowlandson rather reminds one of Colonel Wardle, whose person the caricaturist had made a little too familiar—'I fight for all;' and lastly comes John Bull, under his agricultural aspect, a simple farmer, with his smock, hay-fork, and dog, and, what is more to the purpose, his bag of 'hard earnings' in his hand, on the strength of which he is admitted to join the quartette—on sufferance, it is palpable—'I pay for all!'[22]
1810 (?). The Rabbit Merchant. Published by T. Tegg (25).—The view of a country street; a rabbit seller, with a selection of his stock on his pole, is offering a choice to an old dame, who is somewhat hypercritical, and is employing a test which the rabbit merchant considers excessive and uncalled for; he is represented as offering 'the retort courteous' in justification of his goods.
1810 (?). A Sale of English Beauties in the East Indies.—Although, as we have noticed, Rowlandson's work was stamped by the strongest originality, he, like other etchers of caricatures, often executed the ideas or worked out the first impressions of less experienced draughtsmen; however, unlike most engravers, he has left, in his numerous plates after Wigstead, Woodward, Bunbury, Nixon, Newton, &c. (in all cases the name of the originator is given), but slight traces of the defects and shortcomings of the amateur artists whose sketches he has put into circulation, the major part of the engravings bearing unmistakable and easily recognised evidence of Rowlandson's individuality. In the case of the present caricature he has, in some degree, departed from this practice, probably at the desire of the publisher of the print, and has gone to Gillray's large and spirited plate entitled A Sale of English Beauties in the East Indies for the materials of his version of the same subject. It is noticeable, however, that while he has, in a free-handed manner, preserved the chief points and indeed most of the figures of the original (published March 16, 1786), he has forborne to put his own name to the copy. It is probable that the original version was, at the date of the smaller copy, in demand and difficult to purchase, and, to satisfy the requirements of both publishers and public, Rowlandson has etched this second edition of his friend's plate, Gillray having unhappily lost his reason at the date of the republication.
The scene is supposed to be drawn from one of the landing-places in the East Indies. A merchantman has arrived with a cargo which has proved a source of excitement and attraction to residents of all classes. The fair sex being in great apparent request, a shipload of English beauties on arriving in the East would naturally produce commotion and competition among natives and foreigners alike. A dapper auctioneer is mounted on a bale of books lately arrived, a similar package forms his desk, and he is knocking down a very attractive article, which seems likely to bring a handsome figure. A fine tall beauty is under the scrutiny of a rich Nabob; a young officer is trying to win her ear, and an envoy from the Government, with instructions in his pocket from the Governor-General, is calculating the lady's height with his walking-stick held as a measure. Similar incidents are represented around; the Rajahs are inspecting the latest importations with true merchant-like caution; sundry bargains have already been secured, and in the scales is shown a method of approximating valuations; a well-favoured arrival of the florid and fully developed type is set against a corresponding weight of 'lacs of rupees.' In the background is pictured a large warehouse for 'unsaleable goods from Europe—to be returned by the next ship'—and several damsels are in great distress at being forced to take refuge within this unpopular establishment.
1810. A Parody on Milton. Published by T. Tegg.
On she came—such as I saw her in my dream.
Grace was in all her steps—heaven in her eye;
In every gesture dignity and love.—Milton.
A slipshod and tailorlike-looking old scarecrow, with spectacles on nose, and wearing a scarlet nightcap, is viewing with idiotic rapture the advent of a fat, inebriated, and dishevelled bacchante of mature charms, who, with a decanter in one hand and a glass in the other, is staggering into the chamber, to the amusement of a pretty servant-maid outside. The ancient dotard is making a parody on the quotation: 'On she came—such as I saw her in my dream. Grease was in all her steps—Geneva in her hand; and every gesture reeling ripe for fun!'
Circa 1810. Cries of London. Thirty plates.