It is evident that a drama of this inquisitorial character is a dangerous thing, and that it could hardly be allowed to exist where the rights of society are properly defined; and we are not surprised if Foote provoked a host of bitter enemies. But in some cases the author met with punishment of a heavier and more substantial description. One of the individuals introduced into “The Maid of Bath,” extorted damages to the amount of £3,000. One of the persons who figured in “The Author,” obtained an order from the lord chamberlain for putting a stop to the performance after it had had a short run; and the consequences of “The Trip to Calais,” were still more disastrous. It is well known that the character of lady Kitty Crocodile in that play was a broad caricature on the notorious duchess of Kingston. Through the treachery of some of the people employed by Foote, the duchess obtained information of the nature of this play before it was ready for representation, and she had sufficient influence to obtain the lord chamberlain’s prohibition for bringing it on the stage. Nor was this all, for as the play was printed, if not acted,—and it was subsequently brought out in a modified form, with omission of the part of lady Kitty Crocodile, though the characters of some of her agents were still retained,—infamous charges were got up against Foote, in retaliation, which caused him so much trouble and grief, that they are said to have shortened his days.
The drama which Samuel Foote had invented did not outlive him; its caricature was itself transferred to the caricature of the print-shop.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CARICATURE IN HOLLAND.—ROMAIN DE HOOGHE.—THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION.—CARICATURES ON LOUIS XIV. AND JAMES II.—DR. SACHEVERELL.—CARICATURE BROUGHT FROM HOLLAND TO ENGLAND.—ORIGIN OF THE WORD “CARICATURE.”—MISSISSIPPI AND THE SOUTH SEA; THE YEAR OF BUBBLES.
Modern political caricature, born, as we have seen, in France, may be considered to have had its cradle in Holland. The position of that country, and its greater degree of freedom, made it, in the seventeenth century, the general place of refuge to the political discontents of other lands, and especially to the French who fled from the tyranny of Louis XIV. It possessed at that time some of the most skilful artists and best engravers in Europe, and it became the central spot from which were launched a multitude of satirical prints against that monarch’s policy, and against himself and his favourites and ministers. This was in a great measure the cause of the bitter hatred which Louis always displayed towards that country. He feared the caricatures of the Dutch more than their arms, and the pencil and graver of Romain de Hooghe were among the most effective weapons employed by William of Nassau.
The marriage of William with Mary, daughter of the duke of York, in 1677, naturally gave the Dutch a greater interest than they could have felt before in the domestic affairs of Great Britain, and a new stimulus to their zeal against Louis of France, or, which was the same thing, against arbitrary power and Popery, both of which had been rendered odious under his name. The accession of James II. to the throne of England, and his attempt to re-establish Popery, added religious as well as political fuel to these feelings, for everybody understood that James was acting under the protection of the king of France. The very year of king James’s accession, in 1685, the caricature appeared which we have copied in our cut No. 186, and which, although the inscription is in English, appears to have been the work of a foreign artist. It was probably intended to represent Mary of Modena, the queen of James II., and her rather famous confessor, father Petre, the latter under the character of the wolf among the sheep. Its aim is sufficiently evident to need no explanation. At the top, in the original, are the Latin words, Converte Angliam, “convert England,” and beneath, in English, “It is a foolish sheep that makes the wolf her confessor.”
No. 186. A Dangerous Confessor.
The period during which the Dutch school of caricature flourished, extended through the reign of Louis XIV., and into the regency in France, and two great events, the revolution of 1688 in England, and the wild money speculations of the year 1720, exercised especially the pencils of its caricaturists. The first of these events belongs almost entirely to Romain de Hooghe. Very little is known of the personal history of this remarkable artist, but he is believed to have been born towards the middle of the seventeenth century, and to have died in the earlier years of the eighteenth century. The older French writers on art, who were prejudiced against Romain de Hooghe for his bitter hostility to Louis XIV., inform us that in his youth he employed his graver on obscene subjects, and led a life so openly licentious, that he was banished from his native town of Amsterdam, and went to live at Haerlem. He gained celebrity by the series of plates, executed in 1672, which represented the horrible atrocities committed in Holland by the French troops, and which raised against Louis XIV. the indignation of all Europe. It is said that the prince of Orange (William III. of England), appreciating the value of his satire as a political weapon, secured it in his own interests by liberally patronising the caricaturist; and we owe to Romain de Hooghe a succession of large prints in which the king of France, his protégé James II., and the adherents of the latter, are covered with ridicule. One, published in 1688, and entitled “Les Monarches Tombants,” commemorates the flight of the royal family from England. Another, which appeared at the same date, is entitled, in French, “Arlequin fur l’hypogryphe à la croisade Loioliste,” and in Dutch, “Armeé van de Heylige League voor der Jesuiten Monarchy” (i.e. “the army of the holy league for establishing the monarchy of the Jesuits”). Louis XIV. and James II. were represented under the characters of Arlequin and Panurge, who are seated on the animal here called a “hypogryphe,” but which is really a wild ass. The two kings have their heads joined together under one Jesuit’s cap. Other figures, forming part of this army of Jesuitism, are distributed over the field, the most grotesque of which is that given in our cut No. 187. Two personages introduced in some ridiculous position or other, in most of these caricatures, are father Petre, the Jesuit, and the infant prince of Wales, afterwards the old Pretender. It was pretended that this infant was in fact the child of a miller, secretly introduced into the queen’s bed concealed in a warming-pan; and that this ingenious plot was contrived by father Petre. Hence the boy was popularly called Peterkin, or Perkin, i.e. little Peter, which was the name given afterwards to the Pretender in songs and satires at the time of his rebellion; and in the prints a windmill was usually given to the child as a sign of its father’s trade. In the group represented in our cut, father Petre, with the child in his arms, is seated on a rather singular steed, a lobster. The young prince here carries the windmill on his head. On the lobster’s back, behind the Jesuit, are carried the papal crown, surmounted by a fleur-de-lis, with a bundle of relics, indulgences, &c, and it has seized in one claw the English church service book, and in the other the book of the laws of England. In the Dutch description of this print, the child is called “the new born Antichrist.” Another of Romain de Hooghe’s prints, entitled “Panurge secondé par Arlequin Deodaat à la croisade d’Irlande, 1689,” is a satire on king James’s expedition to Ireland, which led to the memorable battle of the Boyne. James and his friends are proceeding to the place of embarkation, and, as represented in our cut No. 188, father Petre marches in front, carrying the infant prince in his arms.