ENGLISH CARICATURISTS.

SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

“At last we have a treatise upon our caricaturists and comic draughtsmen worthy of the great subject.... An entertaining history of caricature, and consequently of the events, political and social, of the century; in fact, a thoroughly readable and instructive book.... And what a number of political occurrences, scandals public and private, movements political and secular, are passed in review! All these events Mr. Everitt describes at length with great clearness and vivacity, giving us a view of them, so to speak, from the inside.”—Pall Mall Gazette.

“It is a handsome and important volume of 400 pages; the letterpress being a brightly written commentary, abounding with illustrative gossip, on the caricature of the century and the merits of its graphic humourists.... It includes a great deal of the more stirring social and political history of the time. The illustrations so plentifully strewn through Mr. Everitt’s volume give it a peculiar interest.”—St. James’s Gazette.

“The work, which contains a large amount of information and some valuable lists of publications, is illustrated with about seventy wood engravings.”—Literary World.

“A real contribution to the history of the social life of the century. The book is very fully and well illustrated, forming in fact quite a gallery of nineteenth century caricature.”—Truth.

“The plates with which it is illustrated are remarkably well produced, and are useful in themselves, and are neatly and clearly printed, so that they give a capital idea of the originals from which they are prepared.”—Saturday Review.

“Gives an elaborate estimate of the merits of the later caricaturists and a complete account of their lives.”—Graphic.

[Published 21st October, 1812, by S. W. Fores, 50, Piccadilly.

“A BUZ IN A BOX, OR THE POET IN A PET.”

Frontispiece.

English Caricaturists and Graphic Humourists

OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

How they Illustrated and Interpreted their Times.

A Contribution to the History of Caricature from the Time of the First Napoleon Down to the Death of John Leech, in 1864.

BY

GRAHAM EVERITT.

London:

SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO.

1893.

Butler & Tanner,
The Selwood Printing Works,
Frome, and London.

PREFACE.

The only works which, so far as I know, profess to deal with English caricaturists and comic artists of the nineteenth century are two in number. The first is a work by the late Robert William Buss, embodying the substance of certain lectures delivered by the accomplished author many years ago. Mr. Buss’s book, which was published for private circulation only, deals more especially with the work of James Gillray, his predecessors and contemporaries, treating only briefly and incidentally of a few of his successors of our own day. The second is a work by Mr. James Parton, an American author, whose book (published by Harper Brothers, of New York) treats of “Caricature, and other Comic Art in all Times and many Lands.” It is obviously no part of my duty (even if I felt disposed to do so) to criticise the work of a brother scribe, and that scribe an American gentleman. Covering an area so boundless in extent, it is scarcely surprising that Mr. Parton should devote only thirty of his pages to the consideration of English caricaturists and graphic humourists of the nineteenth century.

Under these circumstances, it would seem to me that, in placing the present work before the public, an apology will scarcely be considered necessary.

Depending oftentimes for effect upon overdrawing, nearly always upon a graphic power entirely out of the range of ordinary art, the work of the caricaturist is not to be measured by the ordinary standard of artistic excellence, but rather by the light which it throws upon popular opinion or popular prejudice, in relation to the events, the remembrance of which it perpetuates and chronicles. While, however, a latitude is allowed to the caricaturist which would be inconsistent with the principles by which the practice of art is ordinarily governed, it may at the same time be safely laid down that it is essential to the success of the comic designer as well as the caricaturist, that both should be artists of ability, though not necessarily men of absolute genius.

It may be contended that Gillray, Rowlandson, Bunbury, and others, although commencing work before, are really quite as much nineteenth century graphic satirists as their successors. This I admit; but inasmuch as their work has been already described by other writers, and the present book concerns itself especially with those whose labours commenced after 1800, I have endeavoured to connect them with those of their predecessors and contemporaries, without unnecessarily entering into detail with which the reader is supposed to be already more or less familiar.

I am in hopes that the character in which I am enabled to present George Cruikshank as the leading caricaturist of the century; the account I have given of his hitherto almost unknown work of this character; together with the view I have taken of the causes which led to his sudden and unexampled declension in the very midst of an artistic success almost unprecedented, may prove both new and interesting to some of my readers.

I have to acknowledge the assistance I have derived from the 1864 and 1867 MS. diaries of the late Shirley Brooks, kindly placed at my service by Cecil Brooks, Esq., his son; my thanks are likewise due to Mr. William Tegg for some valuable information kindly rendered.

PREFACE TO THE PRESENT EDITION.

Having been called on to write a Preface to a popular edition of this book, I seize the opportunity which is now afforded me of correcting an error which occurred in the original edition. By some unaccountable accident the printer omitted my sub-title; and it was not unnatural that some of my reviewers should inquire why, in a work dealing with English Caricaturists of the Nineteenth Century, no mention should be made of the graphic humourists who succeeded John Leech. This question is answered by the restoration of the original title, from which it will be seen that the work is simply “a contribution to the history of caricature from the time of the first Napoleon down to the death of John Leech, in 1864.” To take in the later humourists, would be to carry the work beyond the limits which I had originally assigned to it.

One word more, and I have done. My intention in writing this book was to show how the caricaturist “illustrated” his time,—in other words, how he “interpreted” the social and political events of his day, according to his own bias, or the views he was retained to serve. While exhibiting him in the light of an historian—which he most undoubtedly is—I had no idea (as some of my too favourable critics seem to have imagined) of writing a history of caricature itself. For this task, indeed, I am not qualified, nor does it in the slightest degree enlist my sympathy.

G. Everitt.

11th August, 1893.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Dr. Johnson’s definition of the word Caricatura.—Francis Grose’s definition.—Modern signification of the word.—Change in the Spirit of English Caricature during the last Fifty Years.—Its Causes.—Gillray.—Rowlandson.—Bunbury.—Influence of Gillray and Rowlandson on their immediate Successors.—Gradual Disappearance of the Coarseness of the Old Caricaturists.—Change wrought by John Doyle.—We have now no Caricaturist.—Effect of Wood Engraving on Caricature.—Hogarth, although a Satirist, not a Caricaturist.—Gustave Doré misdescribed a Caricaturist.—Absurdity of comparing him with Cruikshank.—“Etching Moralized.”

pp. [1]-[11].

CHAPTER II.

Connection of Gillray and Rowlandson with Nineteenth Century Caricaturists.—Napoleon Bonaparte.—The Causes of English Exasperation against him explained.—Sketch of his Policy towards England.—The “Berlin Decree.”—English Caricatures brought to the notice of Bonaparte.—“A Political Fair.”—The “Gallick Storehouse for English Shipping.”—“Spanish Flies, or Boney taking an Immoderate Dose.”—“Boney and his New Wife, or a Quarrel about Nothing.”—Birth of the young King of Rome.—“British Cookery, or Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire.”—“General Frost Shaving Boney.”—“Polish Diet with French Dessert.”—“The Corsican Blood-hound beset by the Bears of Russia.” “Nap nearly Nab’d, or a Retreating Jump just in time.”—“Boney Returning from Russia covered with Glory.”—“Nap’s Glorious Return.”—Rowlandson’s Anti-Bonaparte Caricatures.—French Contemporary Satires.—Gillray’s Anti-Bonaparte Caricatures.—His Libels on Josephine.—Madame Tallien.—Robert Dighton.—Consequences of a Pinch of Snuff.—Master Betty—Impeachment of Lord Melville.—Introduction of Gas.—Mary Anne Clarke.—Imbecility and Death of James Gillray

pp. [12]-[33].

CHAPTER III.

Re-opening of Drury Lane.—Dr. Busby’s “Monologue.”—“A Buz in a Box, or the Poet in a Pet.”—“Doctors Differ, or Dame Nature against the College.”—Joanna Southcott.—Flight of the Princess Charlotte.—“Plebeian Spirit, or Coachee and the Heiress Presumptive.”—“Miss endeavouring to Excite a Glow with her Dutch Plaything.”—American War of 1812-1815.—Hostile Temper of the Americans.—Disastrous Results of their Invasion of Canada.—English Retaliatory Measures.—Burning of Washington.—Expedition against Alexandria.—“The Fall of Washington, or Maddy in Full Flight.”—British Defeated at Baltimore and New Orleans.—“Romeo Coates.”—Marriage of the Princess Charlotte.—“Leap Year, or John Bull’s Establishment.”—Troubles of 1817.—Narrow Escape of the Prince Regent.—“More Plots!!! More Plots!!!”—Edmund Kean and Lucius Junius Booth.—“The Rival Richards.”—Congress of the Allied Sovereigns at Aix-la-Chapelle.—“A Russian Dandy at Home: a Scene at Aix-la-Chapelle.”—“A Peep at the Pump Room, or the Zomerzetshire Folks in a Maze.”—Death of Queen Charlotte.—“The Hambourg Waltz.”—Invention of the Kaleidoscope.—“Caleidoscopes, or Paying for Peeping.”—The Velocipede or “Hobby.”—“The Spirit Moving the Quakers upon Worldly Vanities.”—“John Bull in Clover,” and “John Bull Done Over.”—Birth of the Princess Victoria.—“A Scene in the New Farce, called The Rivals, or a Visit to the Heir Presumptive.”

pp. [34]-[61].

CHAPTER IV.

Caroline of Brunswick.—Levity of her Character.—Result of the Commission to Inquire into her Conduct in 1806.—Her Letter to the Regent.—Result of the Commission of 1813.—Caroline rebels.—Wrath of Lord Ellenborough.-“A Key to the Investigation, or Iago distanced by odds.”—Refusal of the Regent to meet her in 1814.—Her Protest.—Applies for Permission to Travel Abroad.—Rumours prejudicial to her Moral Conduct.—“Paving the way for a Royal Divorce.”—The Milan Commission.—Ministers averse to the Prosecution of the Queen.—Their False Step.—Arrival of Caroline in London.—Opening of the “Green Bag.”—Arrival of the Witnesses.—Strange Appearance of Caroline at the Trial.—Satire upon Her and her Supporters.—“City Scavengers Cleansing the London Streets of Impurities.”—Practical Failure of the Prosecution.—“The Queen Caroline running down the Royal George.”—“The Steward’s Court of the Manor of Torre Devon.”—Popularity of the King.—“Grand Entrance to Bamboozlem.”—Public Events of 1822-1825.—Greek War of Independence.—Battle of Navarino.—“Russian Bear’s Grease, or a Peep into Futurity.”—“The Descent of the Great Bear, or the Mussulmans in a Quandary.”—“The Nest in Danger.”—“The Porte presenting a Bill of Indemnification.”—“Burking old Mrs. Constitution, aged 141.”—Caricature Declines after 1830, and why.—William Heath and other Caricaturists of the Period.—Theodore Lane.

pp. [62]-[88].

CHAPTER V.

Caricatures of Robert Cruikshank.—Forgotten, and why.—Artistic Training—“The Mother’s Girl Plucking a Crow, or German Flesh and English Spirit.”—“The Horse Marine and his Trumpeter in a Squall.”—Queer Fashions of the early part of the Century.—Thackeray’s Difficulty.—Caricatures on the “Dandies” of 1818.—Robert and his Fellow-Caricaturists ridicule the sham “Corinthians” and “Corinthian Kates” of their day.—Hollow Pretensions of the “Dandies.”—“The Dandy Dressing at Home” and “The Dandy Dressed.”—“A Dandyess.”—Robert’s Satires on the “Dandies” of 1819.—“The Mysterious Fair One, or the Royal Introduction to the Circassian Beauty.”—Other Caricatures of his of 1819.—His Satires on the Trial of Queen Caroline.—His Caricatures of 1821.—Duel between the Dukes of Bedford and Buckingham.—Other Satires by him in 1822.—Interference of Louis XVIII. in Spanish Affairs.—Robert’s Satires on Louis and his Son.—“The Golden Ball.”—Other Caricatures by Robert in 1823.—The Tenth Hussars.—Maria Foote and “Pea-green Hayne.”—Other satires by Robert in 1824.—Colonel Fitz-Bastard and Mr. Judge.—Cox v. Kean.—Sir Walter Scott.—“The Living Skeleton.”—Popple and Stockdale.—Other Subjects of 1825.—“Cruikshankiana.”

pp. [89]-[108].

CHAPTER VI.

Book Illustrations of Isaac Robert Cruikshank.—The “Life in London.”—Injustice done to Robert with reference to this Book.—The “Life” Dramatized.—Excitement it Occasioned.—The Portly Stranger in the Duke’s Box.—Queer Visitors at Rehearsal.—Horror of the Serious People.—The Mistake which they made.—“The Finish.”—Pierce Egan’s Position with reference to the “Life.”—Origin of “Bell’s Life in London.”—Charles Molloy Westmacott.—“The English Spy.”—“The Oppidans’ Museum.”—The “King at Home.”—Rowlandson’s contribution to “The English Spy.”—Westmacott and the Literature of Foote and Hayne.—Robert’s Carelessness.—“Points of Misery.”—“Doings in London.”—“Cruikshank’s Comic Album.”—“Monsieur Nong-tong-paw.”—Three Books Illustrated by Robert.—Death.

pp. [109]-[124].

CHAPTER VII.

Caricatures of George Cruikshank.—“No Plan, no Ambition.”—The Assertion Disproved.—Why George’s Caricatures possess so remarkable an Interest.—“The Scourge.”—Lord Sidmouth’s Bill to amend the Toleration Act.—Opposition to the Measure by the Nonconformists.—George’s Satire upon them.—Satire upon the Medical Profession.—“The Satirist, or Monthly Meteor.”—“Fashion.”—“The Loyalists’ Magazine.”—An Early Satire.—“Meditations amongst the Tombs.”—Other Satires of 1813.—“Little Boney gone to Pot.”—Alexander of Russia and the Duchess of Oldenburg.—The Princess Caroline.—Joanna Southcott.—The Obnoxious Corn Laws of 1815.—Satires thereon.—Escape of Napoleon.—Outlawed by the Powers.—Excitement caused by this Event.—George’s Satires thereon.—Napoleon endeavours to Establish Friendly Relations.—Silent Hostility of Europe.—He Sets out for the Army.—George’s Satire thereon.—Surrender of Bonaparte.—The Bellerophon off the English Coast.—Other Satires of 1815.—The Regent’s Repugnance to Retrenchment and Reform.—Marriage of the Princess Charlotte.—Satire on the Purchase of the “Elgin Marbles.”—Other Satires of 1816.—John Bull’s Bankruptcy Proceedings.—Remanded for Extravagance.—His “Schedule.”—Seditious Troubles of 1817.—A Satire on the Princess Caroline.—Death of the Princess Charlotte.—Other Satires of 1817—of 1818.—The “Bank Restriction Note.”—Satires of 1819.—Queen Caroline and other Caricatures of 1820 and 1821.—Death and Funeral of the Queen.—The Populace force the Procession to go through the City.—The Military fire on the People.—Alderman Sir William Curtis in Highland Costume.—Indignation of the King.—Satires on both.—Statue of Achilles.—Other Caricatures of 1822.—Satires of 1823 and 1824.—Joint Stock Company Mania of 1825.—Undated Satires.—Amazing value of George Cruikshank’s Caricatures.

pp. [125]-[166].

CHAPTER VIII.

George Cruikshank as a Book Illustrator.—Defects and Excellencies.—Women, Horses, Trees.—“Greenwich Hospital.”—Sikes and the Dog.—Jonathan Wild.—Simon Renard and Winwike.—“Born a Genius and Born a Dwarf.”—Its History.—Randalph and Hilda at Ranelagh.—Sale of the Shadow.—Sailors Carousing.—Paying off a Jew.—Simpkin Dancing.—The Last Cab Driver.—Dominie Sampson.—Dumbiedikes.—Fall of the Leaf.—Taurus.—Libra.—Revolution at Madame Tussaud’s.—Theatrical Fun Dinner.—“Gone!”—Duke of Marlborough’s Boot.—The Two Elves.—Witches’ Frolic.—Ghosts.—Jack o’ Lantern.—Devils.—The Gin Shop.—Redgauntlet.—Fagin in the Condemned Cell.—Murder of Sir Rowland Trenchard.—Xit Wedded to the Scavenger’s Daughter.—Mauger Sharpening his Axe.—Massacre at Tullabogue, etc.—His Genius.

pp. [167]-[188].

CHAPTER IX.

The Sleep of Thirty Years.—Causes of George Cruikshank’s Decadence Insufficiently Understood.—Professor Bates’ Theory.—Charles Dickens’s Nervousness (?).—Why Cruikshank was Unfitted to Illustrate his Novels.—The Rejected Illustration to Oliver Twist.—Quarrel with Bentley.—Guy Fawkes Illustrations.—“Ainsworth’s Magazine.”—Progress of the Cruikshank versus Bentley Campaign.—Cruikshank’s Declaration of War.—His Tactics.—“Our Library Table.”—Quarrel with Harrison Ainsworth.—Cruikshank’s Claim to be Originator of Two of his Stories Considered.—A word for Harrison Ainsworth.—Popularity and Success of his Novels.—Charles Lever’s “Arthur O’Leary.”—Cruikshank’s final Leap in the Dark.—Its Fatal Consequences.—Crusade against Drink.—“Worship of Bacchus.”—His Work Falls away.—Thirty Years of Artistic Sterility.—Fairy Stories turned into Temperance Tracts.—Forgotten!

pp. [189]-[207].

CHAPTER X.

Birth of Robert Seymour.—Starts as a Painter in Oils.—Death of George IV.—His Contemptible Character.—Sale of his Wardrobe.—Order for General Mourning.—“The Adelaide Mill.”—Revolution of 1830.—Dismissal of the German Band.—St. John Long the Quack.—Administering an Oath.—The “Humorous Sketches.”—“Book of Christmas.”—“New Readings of Old Authors.”—“Figaro in London.”—À Beckett’s Editorial Amenities.—Feud between him and Seymour.—Seymour Caricatures À Beckett.—“Figaro” passes into the hands of Mayhew.—Re-engagement of Seymour.—Origin of the “Pickwick Papers.”—The Rejected Etching.—Suicide of Seymour.—His Claim to be the “Inventor” of “Pickwick” considered.

pp. [208]-[234].

CHAPTER XI.

The Agitation for Reform in 1830-32.—The Marquis of Blandford’s Scheme of Reform.—Strange State of the English Representative System of those Days.—O’Connell’s Scheme.—Lord John Russell’s “Resolutions” Rejected.—Dearth of Political Caricaturists at this Time.—HB.—Secret of the Success of his “Political Sketches.”—His Style a Complete Innovation.—“I’ll be your Second.”—Unpopularity of the Duke of Cumberland.—“My Dog and my Gun.”—Lord John Russell Introduces a Reform Bill.—Second Reading Carried by a Majority of One.—General Election.—Lord John Russell’s Second Reform Bill Passes the House of Commons.—Deputation to the Lords.—“Bringing up our Bill.”—The Lords Throw it Out.—Lord John Russell again brings in a Bill.—Ministers again in a Minority in the Lords.—Earl Grey tenders certain Alternatives.—Excitement caused by the Opposition of the Lords.—Perplexity of the King.—How he Overcame the Opposition of the Peers.—William IV. as Johnny Gilpin.—The King as Mazeppa and Sinbad the Sailor.—Outrage on the Duke of Wellington.—“Taking an Airing in Hyde Park.”—“Auld Lang Syne.”—“A Hint to Duellists.”—“A Great Subject Dedicated to the Royal College of Surgeons.”—Sir Francis Burdett.—“Following the Leader.”—“The Dog and the Shadow.”—“A Race for the Westminster Stakes.”—“A Fine Old English Gentleman.”—“Jim Crow Dance and Chorus.”

pp. [235]-[253].

CHAPTER XII.

Political Sketches of HB. (continued).—Lord John Russell.—“Jonah.”—Reduction of the Stamp on Newspapers.—How it was evaded.—Arguments of the Opponents of the Measure.—Hard and Soft Soap versus Newspapers.—Strange Arguments of the Newspaper Proprietors of the Day.—“The Rival Newsmongers.”—Brougham Watches for the Door of Preferment being Opened.—“The Gheber Worshipping the Rising Sun.”—Made Lord Chancellor.—“A Select Specimen of the Black Style.”—A Scene in the House of Lords.—“The Duel that Did Not Take Place.”—Dissolution of Parliament in 1834.—Brougham’s Royal “Progress” through Scotland.—Annoyance of William IV., who Determines to Get Rid of Him.—“The Fall of Icarus.”—“The Vaux and the Grapes.”—The Irish Coercion Bill of 1833.—Irish Disaffection which led Up to It.—List of Irish Crimes for One Year.—Scenes between English and Irish Members.—“Prisoners of War.”—Good Effects of the Coercion Bill.—Irish Agitators of 1833 and 1883 Compared.—O’ Connell and the Irish Peasant.—Unscrupulous Political Conduct of O’Connell.—“The Comet of 1835.”—“Doctor Syntax [i.e. Peel] on his Faithful Steed in Search of the Picturesque.”—Amazing Number of HB’s Political Sketches.—His failings.—His Imitators and their Fate.

pp. [254]-[276].

CHAPTER XIII.

John Leech.—Birth.—At Charterhouse.—The “Coach Tree.”—Early Efforts in Drawing brought to the notice of Flaxman.—Apprenticed to Whittle, an Eccentric Medical Man.—Transfer of Leech’s Indentures.—Early Work.—Applies to Illustrate “Pickwick.”—Style not Matured till 1840.—An Attack on Dickens.—Attack on “Phiz.”—Attack on D’Israeli.—“Bentley’s Miscellany.”—Joins Punch.—Marriage.—The “Right-hand Man in Punch’s Cabinet.”—“Illuminated Magazine.”—Portraits of Leech in Punch.—Douglas Jerrold and Albert Smith.—Douglas Jerrold and À Beckett.—Leech at a Fancy Ball.—Albert Smith and the Wide-awake Innkeepers at Chamounix.—George Cruikshank Borrowing from Leech.—Influence of Cruikshank on Leech.—The Two Compared.—Abhorrence of Frenchmen.—Mistake in “The Battle of Life.”

pp. [277]-[293].

CHAPTER XIV.

John Leech’s Punch Cartoons.—The “Albert” Hat.—O’Connell.—Sir James Graham.—“Peel’s Dirty Little Boy.”—“How do you Like the New Whig?”—“The Premier’s Fix.”—“The Railway Juggernaut.”—Between Free Trade and Protection Sir Robert Peel falls through.—“Dombey and Son.”—Lord Brougham “in order.”—Smithfield.—Louis Philippe.—The Year of Unrest, 1848.—French Expedition to Rome.—“A Bright Idea.”—General Haynau and Barclay & Perkins’ Draymen.—“Joe” Hume.—The “Papal Aggression” Cartoons.—“The Boy who Chalked up ‘No Popery’ and then Ran Away.”—Great Exhibition of 1851.—The Coup d’état.—The Peace Society.—“The Old ‘Un and the Young ’Un.”—War with Russia.—Evils of the Purchase System.—Generals Janvier and Fevrier.—“The Return from Vienna.”—Incapacity of English Generals.—“Urgent Private Affairs.”—“Staying Proceedings.”—The Royal Levées.—The French Colonels.—“Religion à la mode.”—Fête at Cremorne.—Plots against the French Emperor, and their Consequences.—“Invasion of French Light Wines.”

pp. [294]-[314].

CHAPTER XV.

Exhibition of Leech’s “Sketches in Oil” at the Egyptian Hall in 1862.—What Thackeray said of them.—Gradual Decrease in the Numbers of his Cartoons for Punch.—Overwork.—Goes to the Continent with Mark Lemon in 1862.—“A day at Biarritz.”—Returns with no Benefit.—Leech and Thackeray at Evans’s in December, 1863.—Thackeray and Leech at Charterhouse on “Founder’s Day.”—Thackeray at the Wednesday Punch Dinner, 15th of December, 1863.—Death of Thackeray.—Death of Mr. R. W. Surtees.—The Punch Council Dinners.—John Leech a faithful Attendant.—“Moses Starting for the Fair.”—John Leech’s Illness described.—No Falling off in the Quality of his Designs.—“St. Genulphus.”—Starts off for Homburg with Mr. Alfred Elmore.—Death of Thomas Frederick Robson.—His Wonderful Powers Wasted.—Leech goes to Whitby.—Shirley Brooks joins him.—“The Weinbrunnen Schwalbach.”—Reminiscences of the Whitby Visit.—Opening of Fechter’s Season at the Lyceum.—John Leech at a Party at Mr. W. P. Frith’s, 13th of October—At the Weekly Punch Dinner, 26th of October.—Serious Change for the Worse.—His Death.—Shock caused by his Death in London and the Provinces.—His Funeral.—Shirley Brooks’ Memorial in Punch.

pp. [315]-[335].

CHAPTER XVI.

Hablot Knight Browne (“Phiz”).—Invincible Tendency to Exaggeration.—Charles Lever’s Opinion.—Weakness and Attenuation of his Figures.—Compared with John Leech.—Tendency to Reproduce.—All his Heroes closely Resemble One Another.—Charles Lever’s Complaint on this Score.—Great Ability of the Artist.—“Ralph Nickleby’s Visit to his Poor Relations.”—Newman Noggs.—Squeers.—Mrs. Nickleby’s Lunatic Admirer.—“Pecksniff’s Reception of the New Pupil.”—“Pleasant Little Family Party at Mr. Pecksniff’s.”—“Warm Reception of Mr. Pecksniff by his Venerable Friend.”—Quilp and Samson Brass.—Quilp and the Dog.—Mrs. Jarley’s Waxwork Brigand.—Capture of Bunsby by Mrs. Macstinger.—“Sunday under Three Heads.”—The Jack Sheppard Mania of 1840.—“The Way to the Gallows made Easy and Pleasant.”—“Phiz” not a Born Comic Artist.—Excellence in Depicting Graver Subjects.—“The Dombey Family.”—“Mrs. Dombey at Home.”—“Abstraction and Recognition.”—“The Dark Road.”—“Carker in his Hour of Triumph.”—“Bleak House.”—Why Browne suited Charles Dickens’s Requirements.—Coolness between Artist and Author.—One of Browne’s Finest Illustrations.—Decline of Book Etching.—Browne without an Idea of his Own.—Powerful Assistance rendered to Novelists by Book Illustrators of his day.—Sketches and Studies.—Death of the Artist.

pp. [336]-[354].

CHAPTER XVII.

Kenny Meadows.—“Portraits of the English.”—A Thoroughly Useful Man.—Some Works Illustrated by Meadows.—His Merits Unequal.—His Contempt for Nature.—An Early Illustrator of Punch.—His Illustrated Shakespeare.—Some Excellent Work of Meadows.—His Death.—Robert William Buss.—Recommended to Illustrate “Pickwick” on Seymour’s Death.—Etchings Suppressed.—The “Buss Plates” not his at all.—His Paintings.—Lectures on Caricature and Graphic Satire.—Comic Publications which preceded or ran side by side with Punch.—Alfred William Forrester (Alfred Crowquill).—“A General Utility Man.”—Crowquill a Caricaturist.—His Talent and Cleverness.—Some of His Paintings.—Charles H. Bennett.—“Shadows.”—“Shadow and Substance.”—“Origin of Species.”—Taken on the Punch Staff.—Early Death.—Theatrical Performances for the Benefit of his Family.—Kate Terry.—Thackeray as a Comic Artist.—Satire on Charles Lever.—Unfitted to Illustrate his own Novels, and why.—His Genius Displayed in Literature not in Art.—Illustrations to “Vanity Fair” Considered.—Anthony Trollope on this Subject.

pp. [355]-[380].

CHAPTER XVIII.

First Work of Richard Doyle.—Receives his Art Training from his Father.—Joins Punch.—The Peace-at-any-Price Party.—The Troubles of 1848.—The Sea-Serpent of Revolution Upsetting the Monarchical Cock-boats.—Lord Brougham.—Richard Doyle’s Dream of the Future of Ireland.—The Window Tax.—“Manners and Customs of Ye Englishe.”—“The Month” upon Exeter Hall.—Establishment of the Papal Hierarchy in England.—The Causes of Doyle’s Retirement from Punch Explained.—Unselfishness of His Conduct.—Ultimate Consequences on his Prospects.—Number of his Punch Illustrations.—Caricatures of Richard Doyle.—“Brown, Jones, and Robinson.”—Works Illustrated by Doyle.—Mr. Hamerton’s Criticism on his Illustrations to “The Newcomes.”—His Death.—John Tenniel.—Joins Punch at the Commencement of Troublous Times.—Death of the Duke of Wellington.—Battle of Oltenitza.—Lord Aberdeen as the “Courier of St. Petersburg.”—Lord Aberdeen tries to Hold in the British Lion.—England the Unready.—“Peace” Seated on the Garrison Gun.—Punch’s Low Estimate of the Third Napoleon.—An “International Poultry Show.”—“The Eagle in Love.”—“Playing with Edged Tools.”—“An Unpleasant Neighbour.”—Louis Closes his Firework Shop “to please Johnny.”—Miss Britannia Refuses to Dance again with Louis.—Mr. Tenniel one of the most Versatile of Modern Designers.—Examples of his Graphic Satire.—Notice of his Cartoons Closes with 1864, in Accordance with the Plan of the Work.—His Comic Powers.

pp. [381]-[400].

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

“The Farthing Rushlight.”

THE PRINCE OF WALES, WITH FOX, SHERIDAN, AND HIS WHIG ASSOCIATES, TRYING IN VAIN TO BLOW OUT POOR OLD GEORGE.

The author desires to express his sense of obligation to the several publishers who have courteously granted him permission to reproduce drawings, the copyrights of which are vested in themselves; and at the same time to state his regret that other publishers, similarly situated with respect to other works, have not seen their way to render it possible for him to supply specimens of the style of certain artists, two of whom in particular, John Leech and H. K. Browne, must needs be conspicuous by their comparative absence.

Such Caricatures and Book Illustrations as have seemed specially desirable—of which the copyrights have lapsed and no editions are at the present day in print—have been engraved for this work by Mr. William Cheshire.

ENGLISH CARICATURISTS.

CHAPTER I.

OF THE ENGLISH CARICATURE AND ITS DECAY.

If you turn to the word “caricatura” in your Italian dictionary, it is Definition of Caricature just possible that you will be gratified by learning that it means “caricature”; but if you refer to the same word in old Dr. Johnson, he will tell you, with the plain, practical common-sense which distinguished him, that it signifies “an exaggerated resemblance in drawings,” and this expresses exactly what it does mean. Any distinguishing feature or peculiarity, whether in face, figure, or dress, is exaggerated, and yet the likeness is preserved. A straight nose is presented unnaturally straight, a short nose unnaturally depressed; a prominent forehead is drawn unusually bulbous; a protuberant jaw unnaturally underhung; a fat man is depicted preternaturally fat, and a thin one correspondingly lean. This at least was the idea of caricature during the last century. Old Francis Grose, who, in 1791, wrote certain “Rules for Drawing Caricaturas,” gives us the following explanation of their origin:—“The sculptors of ancient Greece,” he tells us, “seem to have diligently observed the form and proportions constituting the European ideas of beauty, and upon them to have formed their statues. These measures are to be met with in many drawing books; a slight deviation from them by the predominancy of any feature constitutes what is called character, and serves to discriminate the owner thereof and to fix the idea of identity. This deviation or peculiarity aggravated, forms caricatura.”

As a matter of fact, the strict definition of the word given by Francis Grose and Dr. Johnson is no longer applicable; the word caricature includes, and has for a very long time been understood to include, within its meaning any pictorial or graphic satire, political or otherwise, and whether the drawing be exaggerated or not: it is in this sense that Mr. Wright makes use of it in his “Caricature History of the Georges,” and it is in this sense that we shall use it for the purposes of this present book.

Since the commencement of the present century, and more Change in the Spirit of English Caricature. especially during the last fifty years, a change has come over the spirit of English caricature. The fact is due to a variety of causes, amongst which must be reckoned the revolution in dress and manners; the extinction of the three-bottle men and topers; the change of thought, manners, and habits consequent on the introduction of steam, railways, and the electric telegraph. The casual observer meeting, as he sometimes will, with a portfolio of etchings representing the men with red and bloated features, elephantine limbs, and huge paunches, who figure in the caricatures of the last and the early part of the present century, may well be excused if he doubt whether such figures of fun ever had an actual existence. Our answer is that they not only existed, but were very far from uncommon. Our great-grandfathers of 1800 were jolly good fellows; washing down their beef-steaks with copious draughts of “York or Burton ale,” or the porter for which Trenton, of Whitechapel, appears to have been famed,[1] fortifying themselves afterwards with deeper draughts of generous wines—rich port, Madeira, claret, dashed with hermitage—they set up before they were old men paunches and diseases which rendered them a sight for gods and men. Reader, be assured that the fat men who figure in the graphic satires of the early part of the century were certainly not caricatured.

In connection with the subject of graphic satire, the names of the The three great Caricaturists of the Last Century. three great caricaturists of the last century—Gillray, Rowlandson, and Bunbury—are indispensable. The last, a gentleman of family, fortune, and position, and equerry to the Duke of York, was, in truth, rather an amateur than an artist. Rowlandson was an able draughtsman, and something more; but his style and his tastes are essentially coarse and sensual, and his women are the overblown beauties of the Drury Lane and Covent Garden of his day. George Moutard Woodward, whose productions he sometimes honoured by etching, and whose distinguishing characteristics are carelessness and often bad drawing, follows him at a respectful distance. The genius of James Gillray has won him the title of the “Prince of Caricaturists,” a title he well earned and thoroughly deserved. The only one of the nineteenth century caricaturists who touches him occasionally in caricature, but distances him in everything else, is our George Cruikshank.

Commencing work when George the Third was still a young man, Gillray and Rowlandson necessarily infused into it some of the coarseness and vulgarity of their century. With Gillray, indeed, this coarseness and vulgarity may be said to be rather the exception than the rule, whereas the exact contrary holds good of his able and too often careless contemporary. As might have been expected, every one who excites their ridicule or contempt is treated and (in their letterpress descriptions) spoken of in the broadest manner. Bonaparte is mentioned by both artists (in allusion to his supposed sanguinary propensities) as “Boney, the carcase butcher;” Josephine is represented by Gillray as a coarse fat woman, with the sensual habits of a Drury Lane strumpet; Talleyrand, by right of his club foot and limping gait, is invariably dubbed “Hopping Talley.” The influence of both artists is felt by those who immediately succeeded them. The coarseness, for instance, of Robert Cruikshank, when he displays any at all, which is seldom, is directly traceable to the influence of Rowlandson, whom (until he followed the example of his greater brother) he at first copied.

Gillray wrought much the same influence upon George Cruikshank. Influence of Gillray on Cruikshank. I have seen it gravely asserted by some of those who have written upon him,[2] that this great artist never executed a drawing which could call a blush into the cheek of modesty. But those who have written upon George Cruikshank—and their name is legion—instead of beginning at the beginning, and thus tracing the gradual and almost insensible formation of his style, appear to me to have plunged as it were into medias res, and commenced at the point when he dropped caricature and became an illustrator of books. Book illustration was scarcely an art until George Cruikshank made it so; and the most interesting period of his artistic career appears to us to be the one in which he pursued the path indicated by James Gillray, until his career of caricaturist merged into his later employment of a designer and etcher of book illustration, by which no doubt he achieved his reputation. In answer to those who tell us that he never produced a drawing which could call a blush into the cheek of modesty, and never raised a laugh at the expense of decency, we will only say that we can produce at least a score of instances to the contrary. To go no further than “The Scourge,” we will refer them to three: his Dinner of the Four-in-Hand Club at Salthill, in vol. i.; his Return to Office (1st July, 1811), in vol. ii.; and his Coronation of the Empress of the Nares (1st September, 1812), in vol. iv.

As the century passed out of its infancy and attained the maturer Revolution effected by H. B. age of thirty years, a gradual and almost imperceptible change came over the spirit of English graphic satire. The coarseness and suggestiveness of the old caricaturists gradually disappeared, until at length, in 1830, an artist arose who was destined to work a complete revolution in the style and manner of English caricature. This artist was John Doyle,—the celebrated H. B. He it was that discovered that pictures might be made mildly diverting without actual coarseness or exaggeration; and when this fact was accepted, the art of caricaturing underwent a complete transition, and assumed a new form. The “Sketches” of H. B. owe their chief attraction to the excellence of their designer as a portrait painter; his successors, with less power in this direction but with better general artistic abilities, rapidly improved upon his idea, and thus was founded the modern school of graphic satirists represented by Richard Doyle, John Leech, and John Tenniel. So completely was the style of comic art changed under the auspices of these clever men, that the very name of “caricature” disappeared, and the modern word “cartoon” assumed its place. With the exception indeed of Carlo Pellegrini (the “Ape” of Vanity Fair), and his successors, we have now no caricaturist in the old and true acceptation of the term, and original and clever as their productions are, their compositions are timid compared with those of Bunbury, Gillray, Rowlandson, and their successors, being limited to a weekly “exaggerated” portrait, instead of composed of many figures.

But caricature was destined to receive its final blow at the hands of that useful craftsman the wood-engraver. The application of wood-engraving to all kinds of illustration, whether graphic or comic, and the mode in which time, labour, and expense are economised, by the large wood blocks being cut up into squares, and each square entrusted to the hands of a separate workman, has virtually superseded the old and far more effective process of etching. Economy is now the order of the day in matters of graphic satire as in everything else; people are no longer found willing to pay a shilling for a caricature when they may obtain one for a penny. Hence it has come to pass, that whilst comic artists abound, the prevailing spirit of economy has reduced their productions to a dead level, and the work of an artist of inferior power and invention, may successfully compete for public favour with the work of a man of talent and genius like John Tenniel, a result surely to be deplored, seeing there never was a time which offered better opportunities for the pencil of a great and original caricaturist than the present.[3]

It is a common practice, and I may add mistake, with writers Mistake of those who compare modern Caricaturists with Hogarth. on comic artists or caricaturists of our day, to compare them with Hogarth. Both Hogarth and the men of our day are graphic satirists, but there is so broad a distinction between the satire of each, and the circumstances of the times in which they respectively laboured, that comparison is impossible. Those who know anything of this great and original genius, must know that he entertained the greatest horror of being mistaken for a caricaturist pure and simple; and although he executed caricatures for special purposes, they may literally be counted on the fingers. “His pictures,” says Hazlitt, “are not imitations of still life, or mere transcripts of incidental scenes and customs; but powerful moral satires, exposing vice and folly in their most ludicrous points of view, and with a profound insight into the weak sides of character and manners, in all their tendencies, combinations, and contrasts. There is not a single picture of his containing a representation of mere pictorial or domestic scenery.” His object is not so much “to hold the mirror up to nature,” as “to show vice her own feature, scorn her own image.” “Folly is there seen at the height—the moon is at the full—it is the very error of the time. There is a perpetual error of eccentricities, a tilt and tournament of absurdities, pampered with all sorts of affectation, airy, extravagant, and ostentatious! Yet he is as little a caricaturist as he is a painter of still life. Criticism has not done him justice, though public opinion has.”[4] “A set of severer satires,” says Charles Lamb, “(for they are not so much comedies, which they have been likened to, as they are strong and masculine satires), less mingled with anything of mere fun, were never written upon paper or graven upon copper. They resemble Juvenal, or the satiric touches in Timon of Athens.”

Hogarth was a stern moralist and satirist, but his satires have Character of Hogarth’s Satires. nothing in common with the satires of the nineteenth century; such men as the infamous Charteris and the quack Misaubin figure in his compositions, and their portraits are true to the life. Although his satire is relieved with flashes of humour, the reality and gravity of the satire remain undisturbed. The March to Finchley is one of the severest satires on the times; it shows us the utter depravity of the morals and manners of the day, the want of discipline of the king’s officers and soldiers, which led to the routs of Preston and Falkirk, the headlong flight of Hawley and his licentious and cowardly dragoons. Some modern writers know so little of him that they have not only described his portrait of Wilkes as a caricature, but have cited the inscription on his veritable contemporary caricature of Churchill in proof of the assertion. Now what says this inscription? “The Bruiser (Churchill, once the Reverend), in the character of a Russian Hercules, regaling himself after having killed the monster Caricatura, that so severely galled his virtuous friend, the heaven-born Wilkes.” Hogarth’s use of the word caricatura conveys a meaning which is not patent at first sight; Wilkes’s leer was the leer of a satyr, “his face,” says Macaulay, “was so hideous that the caricaturists were forced in their own despite to flatter him.”[5] The real sting lies in the accuracy of Hogarth’s portrait (a fact which Wilkes himself admitted), and it is in this sarcastic sense that Hogarth makes use of the word “caricatura.”

Turning from Hogarth to a modern artist, in spite of his faults of Gustave Doré. most marvellous genius and inventive faculty, I frequently find critics of approved knowledge and sagacity describing the late Gustave Doré as a caricaturist. It may seem strange at first sight to introduce the name of Doré into a work dealing exclusively with English caricature art, and I do so, not by reason of the fact that his works are as familiar to us in England as in France, not because he has pictorially interpreted some of the finest thoughts in English literature, but because I find his name so constantly mentioned in comparison with English caricaturists and comic artists, and more especially with our George Cruikshank. Now Gustave Doré is, if possible, still less a caricaturist than our English Hogarth. I have seen the ghastly illustrations to the licentious “Contes Drolatiques” of Balzac cited in proof of his claims to be considered a caricaturist. I will not deny that Doré did try his hand once upon a time at caricature, and if we are to judge him by these attempts, we should pronounce him the worst French caricaturist the world ever saw, which would be saying a great deal; for a worse school than that of the modern French caricaturists (and I do not except even Gavarni, Cham, or Daumier), does not anywhere exist. That this man of marvellous genius had humour I do not for one moment deny; but it was the grim humour of an inquisitor or torturer of the middle ages—of one that revels in a perfect nightmare of terror.[6] Genius is said to be nearly allied to madness; and if one studies some of his weird creations—such, for instance, as The Judgment Day in the legend of “The Wandering Jew”—the thought involuntarily suggests itself that a brain teeming with such marvellous and often morbid conceptions, might have been pushed off its balance at any moment. Gustave Doré delights in lofty, mediæval-gabled buildings, with bartizans and antique galleries; in steep streets, dominated by gloomy turrets; in narrow entries, terminating in dark vistas; in gloomy forests, crowded with rocky pinnacles; in masses of struggling, mutilated men and horses; in monstrous forms of creeping, crawling, slimy, ghastly horror. By the side of the conceptions of Gustave Doré—teste for instance the weird pictures of “The Wandering Jew” already mentioned—George Cruikshank sinks at times into insignificance; and yet side by side with George Cruikshank, as a purely comic artist or caricaturist, Doré is beneath mediocrity.

Artists and art critics not unnaturally regard caricature with some Mr. Hamerton’s observations on Caricature. disfavour. “Art,” says Hamerton, “with a great social or political purpose, is seldom pure fine art; artistic aims are usually lost sight of in the anxiety to hit the social or political mark, and though the caricaturist may have great natural facility for art, it has not a fair chance of cultivation.” Writing of Cruikshank’s “etchings” (and I presume he refers to those which are marked with comic or satirical characteristics), he says: “They are full of keen satire and happy invention, and their moral purpose is always good; but all these qualities are compatible with a carelessness of art which is not to be tolerated in any one but a professional caricaturist.”[7] Now all this is true, and moreover it is fairly and generously stated; on the other hand, Mr. Hamerton will probably admit that no artist is likely to succeed in graphic satire, unless he be a man of marked artistic power and invention.

While treating incidentally of the etchings of artists who have distinguished themselves as graphic satirists or designers, with etching itself as an art this work has no concern. For those who would be initiated into the mysteries of etching and dry point, negative and positive processes, soft grounds, mordants, or the like, the late Thomas Hood has left behind him a whimsical sketch of the process, which, imperfect as it is, will not only suffice for our purpose, but has the merit probably of being but little known:—

[1]

—The Art of Living in London (6th edition 1805).

[2] One quotation shall suffice. Mr. William Bates tells us in his admirable “Maclise Portrait Gallery”:—“He never transgressed the narrow line that separates wit from buffoonery, pandered to sensuality, glorified vice or raised a laugh at the expense of decency. Satire never in his hands degenerated into savagery or scurrility. A moral purpose ever underlaid his humour; he sought to instruct or improve when he amused.” Mr. Bates will, we hope, pardon us if we say that this is not quite the fact. George Cruikshank in truth was no better or worse than his satirical brothers, and his tone necessarily improved from the moment he took to illustrating books.

[3] Since the above was written, strange to say, caricature appears to be showing symptoms of revival.

[4] “The Fine Arts,” by William Hazlett, p. 29.

[5] “Critical and Historical Essays,” vol. iii., p. 574.

[6] We can scarcely call the wonderful series of historical cartoons which he executed at sixteen caricatures, even in the modern sense of the word. Whatever humour they possess is neutralized by the grim irony which, even at this early period, characterized his work.

[7] “Etching and Etchers,” by Philip Gilbert Hamerton, third edition, p. 246.

[8] Thomas Hood’s “Etching Moralized,” in New Monthly Magazine, 1843, vol. lxvii. p. 4, and seq.

CHAPTER II.

MISCELLANEOUS CARICATURES AND SUBJECTS OF CARICATURE, 1800-1811.

Although Gillray began his work in 1769,—thirty years before Proposed method Of Arrangement. our century commenced, and Rowlandson five years later on, in 1774, their labours were continued some years after 1799, and are so interwoven, so to speak, with the work of their immediate successors, that it is almost impossible in a work dealing with nineteenth century caricaturists to omit all mention of them. In collecting too materials for the present treatise, we necessarily met with many anonymous satires, without signature, initials, or distinguishing style, which may be, and some of which are probably due to artists whose pencils were at work before the century began. Even if equal in all cases to the task of assigning these satires to the particular hands which designed and executed them, we submit that little real service would be rendered to the cause of graphic satire. It appears to us therefore that the most convenient method will be to indicate in this and the following chapters some of the leading topics of caricature during the first thirty years of the century, and to cite in illustration of our subject such of the work of anonymous or other artists, for which no better place can be assigned in other divisions of the work.

The attention of the public during the first fifteen years of the century was mainly directed to the progress and fortunes of the great national enemy, Napoleon Bonaparte. The hatred with which he was regarded in this country can scarcely be appreciated in these days; and in order that the cause of this bitter antipathy may be understood, it will be necessary for us to consider Bonaparte’s general policy in relation to ourselves.

The close of the century had been signalized in France by the 18th Brumaire. memorable revolution of “the eighteenth Brumaire.” The Directory had ceased to exist, and a provisional consular commission, consisting of “Citizens” Sieyes, Ducos, and Bonaparte, was appointed. On the 13th of December, the legislative committees presented the new constitution to the nation, the votes against it being 1,562 as against 3,012,659 in its favour. Bonaparte was nominated first consul for ten, and Cambacères and Lebrun (nominal) second and third consuls for five years.

Although Bonaparte, as soon as he was appointed First Consul, made direct overtures to the king of England with a view to peace, he had himself to thank if his overtures met with no corresponding return. To accomplish the revolution of the “eighteenth Brumaire,” he had found it necessary to quit Egypt. The English knew the French occupation of Egypt was intended as a direct menace to British interests in India. Lord Granville, therefore, in his official reply, without assuming to prescribe a form of government to France, plainly but somewhat illogically intimated that the “restoration of the ancient line of princes, under whom France had enjoyed so many centuries of prosperity, would afford the best possible guarantee for the maintenance of peace between the two countries.” This New Year’s greeting on the part of Lord Granville put an end, as might have been expected, to all further communications.

The French, however, had no business in Egypt, and England was resolved at any cost to drive them out of that country. With this object in view, the armament under the command of Sir Ralph Abercrombie effected its disembarkation at Aboukir on the 8th of March, 1801. A severe though indecisive action followed five days afterwards. On the 20th was fought the decisive battle of Alexandria. General Hutchinson, on the death of the English commander, followed up the victory with so much vigour and celerity, that early in the autumn the French army capitulated, on The French driven out of Egypt. condition of being conveyed to France with all its arms, artillery, and baggage. The capitulation was signed just in time to save French honour; for immediately after the conclusion of the treaty, a second British force, under the command of Sir David Baird, arrived from India by way of the Red Sea. Bonaparte’s favourite project of making Egypt an entrepôt for the conquest of Hindostan was thus most effectually checkmated.[9]

On the 1st of October, 1801, preliminaries of peace between France and Great Britain were signed in Downing Street; on the 10th, General Lauriston, aide-de-camp to the First Consul, having arrived with the ratification of these preliminaries, the populace took the horses from his carriage and drew it to Downing Street. That night and the following there was a general illumination in London.

The “preliminaries” referred to were those of the very unsatisfactory “Peace of Amiens,” as it was called. Its terms, by no means flattering to this country, were shortly these: France was to retain all her conquests; while, on the other hand, the acquisitions made by England during the war were to be given up. Malta and its dependencies were to be restored (under certain restrictions) nominally to the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem; the French were to evacuate Naples and the Roman States; and the British Porto Ferrago, and all the ports possessed by them in the Mediterranean and the Adriatic.

All this time a violent paper war had been maintained between the English press and the Moniteur, the official organ of the Consular Government. In the month of August, 1802, Bonaparte prohibited the circulation of the English newspapers, and immediately after the issue of the order, the coffee houses and reading rooms were visited by his police, who carried away every English journal upon which they could lay their hands. By way of answer Bonaparte establishes an English Newspaper in Paris. to English abuse (to which Napoleon was singularly sensitive), the First Consul now established an English newspaper in Paris, which was thenceforth unceasingly occupied in vilifying the Government and people of England. This paper was called The Argus, and an Englishman, one Goldsmith,—whilom proprietor of the Albion newspaper in London,—was actually found mean enough to undertake the peculiarly dirty office of its editor.

The denouement was not long delayed. On the 13th of March, 1803, occurred the extraordinary and well-known scene between the First Consul and the English ambassador, Lord Whitworth. Bonaparte, in the presence of a numerous and astonished Court, vehemently accused England of breach of faith in not carrying out the provisions of the treaty, by still remaining in possession of Malta. The episode appears to have been of an extraordinary character, and the violence and ferocity of Bonaparte’s language and behaviour, maintained till the very close of the interview, must have contrasted strangely with the coolness of the English ambassador.

The restoration of Malta to the Knights of St. John was of course a mere nominal restitution, for, except in name, the Knights of St. John had ceased to exist. The First Consul really wanted the island for himself; and while he accused us of breach of faith, was himself acting all the while contrary to the spirit of the treaty of Amiens. While requiring that we should drive the royalist emigrants from our shores, he demanded that the English press should be deprived of its liberty of speaking in such frank terms of himself and his policy. His unfriendly conduct did not end here. At this very time he was actively employed in fomenting rebellion in Ireland, and in planting (under the nominal character of consuls) spies along our coast, whose treacherous objects were accidentally discovered by the seizure of the secret instructions issued to one of these fellows at Dublin. “You are required,” said this precious document, “to furnish a plan of the ports of your district, with a specification of the soundings for mooring vessels. If no plan of the ports can be procured, you are to point out with what wind vessels can come in and go out, and what is the greatest draught of water with which vessels can enter the river deeply laden.”

Still there was no actual breach of the nominal peace between the two countries until the 12th of May, on which day Lord Whitworth left Paris. He landed at Dover on the 20th, meeting there General Audreossi, Napoleon’s minister to the English Court, on the point of embarking for France.

For two days before, that is to say on the 18th of May, 1803, England declares War. England had issued her declaration of war against France. In this document, our government alleged that the surrender of Malta to the knights of St. John of Jerusalem had been rendered impossible by the action of France and Spain, who had destroyed the independence of the Order itself. Reference was made to Bonaparte’s attempts to interfere with the liberty of the English press, and the indignities he had offered to our ambassador; but the real ground of quarrel was to be found in an official gasconade of Bonaparte’s, in which he declared that “Britain could not contend single handed against France,” a vainglorious boast, which (in those days at least) touched a chord which thrilled the patriotic feelings of every Englishman that loved his country.

Napoleon’s next step—a simply detestable action—was quite in accordance with the faithless policy which he pursued towards this country. The treaty of Amiens had induced crowds of English to cross the Channel, and on the specious pretext that two French ships had been captured prior to the actual declaration of war, he issued a decree on the 22nd of May, 1803, for the arrest and imprisonment of all Englishmen in France, over eighteen and under sixty years of age, all subjects of the king of England between those ages being considered, for the purpose of this outrageous order, as forming part of the English militia. This measure was carried out with the utmost rigour, and the eleven thousand English who thus became prisoners of war were deprived of their liberty fifteen years, and regained it only in 1814.

The feeling of the nation at this time may be judged by the debates in the Houses of Parliament. In the Commons, Mr. Grey English Enthusiasm. moved an amendment, which, while it assured His Majesty of support in the war, expressed disapprobation of the conduct of Ministers. This amendment was rejected by 398 to 67. The unanimity in the Lords was still greater. The official statement that England was unable to contend single-handed with France produced a violent outburst of indignation, and the amendment moved by Lord King, to omit words which charged France with the actual guilt and responsibility of breaking the treaty, was negatived by 142 to 10. This was on the 23rd of May. On the 20th of June a great meeting was held at Lloyds, for the purpose of promoting a subscription for carrying on the war. Six days later on, five thousand merchants, bankers, and other persons of position met at the Royal Exchange, and unanimously agreed to a declaration which expressed their determination to “stand or fall with their king and country.” This resolution or declaration was seconded by the Secretary to the East India Company, and the meeting did not separate until “God save the King” and “Rule Britannia” had been sung, and nine cheers had been given for England and King George. On the 26th of August, His Majesty reviewed the London volunteers in Hyde Park, in the presence of the French princes, General Dumouriez, and two hundred thousand spectators; this military spectacle being followed on the 28th by a review, in the same place, of the Westminster, Lambeth, and Southwark corps. The number of volunteers actually enrolled in the metropolis and outparishes at this time was forty-six thousand.

The following year saw the final end of the great French Revolution; the names of the puppet “second” and “third” consuls had been long omitted from the public acts of the French Government. The motives of this omission were soon abundantly apparent; and in the month of May, 1804, Bonaparte was proclaimed Emperor of the French.

Some writers have doubted whether Napoleon entertained any serious intention of invading this country; but to doubt such intention would be really to doubt whether Nelson fell at Trafalgar, for that crushing defeat was simply the sequel and outcome of the collapse of the emperor’s plans. The details of the invasion scheme were fully explained to General Sir Neil Campbell by Napoleon himself at Elba, in 1814, and afterwards confirmed by him in precisely similar terms to O’Meara at St. Helena. Those plans were defeated by the suspicions and vigilance of Lord Nelson; by his habit of acting promptly upon his suspicions; by the alacrity with which the Admiralty of the day obeyed his warnings; by the prescience of Lord Collingwood; and by the consequent intercepting of the combined French and Spanish fleets off Ferrol by Sir Robert Calder, in July, 1806. The moment this happened, Napoleon saw that his game—so far at least as England was concerned—was at an end; and fertile in resources, he immediately carried out the second part of his programme. Then followed, as we know, the campaign of Austerlitz, the treaty of Presburg, the war with Prussia, and finally the battle of Jena, in October, 1806.

Ever bent on humiliating and crippling the resources of Berlin Decree. England, Napoleon on the 1st of November, 1806, issued his memorable “Berlin Decree,” containing eleven clauses, of which this country formed the exclusive topic. By it, all trade and correspondence with the British Isles was prohibited; all letters and packets at the post office, addressed to England, or to an Englishman, or “written in English,” were to be seized; every subject of England found in any of the countries occupied by French troops or those of their allies, was to be made prisoner of war; all warehouses, merchandise, and property belonging to a subject of England were declared lawful prize; all trading in English merchandise forbidden; every article belonging to England, or coming from her colonies, or of her manufacture, was declared good prize; and English vessels were excluded from every European port.[10] This outrageous “decree” Bonaparte imposed upon every country that fell under the iron sway of his military despotism.

The policy, therefore, of the emperor towards England, which was contrary to all the usages of civilized warfare, will explain Base Policy of Bonaparte. the bitter animosity with which he was regarded in this country. The English were molested everywhere; they were made prisoners at Verdun and in Holland; their property was confiscated in Portugal; Russia was cajoled, Prussia forced into a league against them, and Sweden menaced, because she persisted in maintaining her alliance with this country. The “Berlin Decree” was an infamous document, worthy rather the policy of a bandit chief than of a fair and honourable antagonist. It proclaimed war not against individuals, but against private property, and specially appealed to the cupidity of those to whom it was addressed. This base policy towards English subjects recoiled inevitably against its perpetrator; and its effects were soon felt in the fields of the Peninsula, the banishment to Elba, and above all, in the final consignment to the rock of St. Helena. We, on our part, ignored Bonaparte’s right to the title of emperor. With us, he was invariably “General Bonaparte,” and nothing more; and in the graphic lampoons of Gillray, Rowlandson, and Cruikshank, he was exhibited under the most ludicrous circumstances in connection with the divorce, the defeats of Russia and the Peninsula, and even the paternity of his son the young king of Rome. These caricatures were brought to his notice by his spies and emissaries in England; they rendered him furious; and one of them—Gillray’s admirable and, as it subsequently proved, prophetic satire of The Handwriting on the Wall—is said to have given him not only offence, but even serious uneasiness.

The tone of the English caricaturists may be gathered from one of the best of Woodward’s satires, published in 1807. It is entitled A Political Fair, in which the various shows are labelled Russian, Danish, Swedish, Westphalian, Austrian, Dutch, Spanish, and even American. The best show in the fair is kept of course by John Bull & Co., whilst Bonaparte is the proprietor of a humble stall, whereat gingerbread kings and queens are sold wholesale and retail by his Imperial Majesty.[11] The same artist, in another but distinctly inferior satire (published in November, 1807), gives us The Gallick Storehouse for English Shipping: on one side we see Napoleon accumulating vast stores of Spanish, Danish, Dutch, and Swedish vessels, intended to annihilate the naval power of England—the shipbuilder, however, shrugs his shoulders and suggests it is but time thrown away, for as fast as the ships are built, John Bull “claps them into his storehouse over the way.” The satire was suggested of course by the victory of Trafalgar in October, 1805; by Sir J. Duckworth’s capture of French shipping in January, 1806; and by the surrender of the Danish fleet after the bombardment of Copenhagen, in September, 1807.[12]

In a caricature published by Walker in 1808, we see Joseph Bonaparte (one of these Imperial ginger-bread monarchs) driven from Madrid by Spanish flies; the satire is entitled Spanish Flies, or Boney taking an Immoderate Dose, and has reference to the results of the Battle of Baylen, in Andalusia, one of the very few victories Battle of Baylen. ever obtained by the Spaniards against the French, where a division of 14,000 men surrendered to Castanos. This was on the 20th of July, and nine days afterwards Joseph retreated to Burgos with the crown jewels. The wretched Spaniards, however, were incapable of improving their victory; and General Castanos instead of following up the retreating enemy, went to Seville to fulfil a vow he had made of dedicating his unexpected victory to St. Ferdinand, on whose tomb he deposited the crown of laurel presented to him by his grateful countrymen. Of the Bonaparte caricatures of this year, no less than nineteen are due to the pencil of Thomas Rowlandson, and will be found fully described in Mr. Joseph Grego’s exhaustive work[13] upon that artist and his works.

THE KING OF BROBDINGNAG AND GULLIVER.
TALLEYRAND, KING-AT-ARMS, BEARING HIS MASTER’SGENEALOGICAL TREE, SPRINGING FROM BUONE, BUTCHER.	NAPOLEON IN HIS CORONATION ROBES.
FIGURES FROM GILLRAY’S NAPOLEONIC CARICATURES. [Face p. 20.

The year 1809 witnessed the divorce from Josephine, and the marriage of the emperor to Marie Louise. The purposes for which this matrimonial alliance was effected were made no secret of by the emperor, and were indicated of course in the plainest possible terms by the English contemporary caricaturists, who were certainly not troubled with any unnecessary scruples of prudery or delicacy. One of these satires, published by Tegg, on the 16th of August, 1810, is entitled Boney and his New Wife, or a Quarrel about Nothing, and indicates in the plainest possible terms that the purposes for which the divorce had been effected were as distant as ever. The result of this union, however, was the birth of the young king of Rome on the 20th of March, 1810, an event which set the pencils of our pictorial satirists once more in motion, and the young heir and his father were complimented by Rowlandson in a rough caricature, published by Tegg on the 9th of April, 1811, as Boney the Second, the little Babboon [sic] created to devour French Monkies.

In March, 1811, was fought the battle of Barossa; while the Battle of Barossa. same month Massena, finding it difficult to maintain his army in a devastated country, instead of fulfilling his vain-glorious boast of driving “the English into their native element,” began his own retreat from Santarem, abandoning part of his baggage and heavy artillery. Marching in a solid mass, his rear protected by one or two divisions, he retired towards the Mondego, preserving his army from any great serious disaster, though watchfully and vigorously pursued by Lord Wellington. The skilful generalship of the French marshal elicited of course no encomiums from the English caricaturists. On the contrary, we see (in “The Scourge” of 1st May, 1811) Wellington in the act of basting a French goose before a huge fire, a British bayonet forming the spit. While basting the goose with one hand, the English general holds over the fire in the other a frying-pan filled with French generals, some of whom—to escape the overpowering heat—are leaping into the fire; another British officer (probably intended for General Graham) blows the flames with a pair of bellows labelled “British bravery.” Napoleon appears in a stew-pan over an adjoining boiler, while we find Marshal Massena himself in a pickle-jar below. This satire is entitled, British Cookery, or Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire.

The star of Napoleon was beginning to wane in 1812. The snow Napoleon’s Star begins to wane. made its first appearance in Russia on the 13th of October of that year, and the French emperor already commenced his preparations for retreat. This is referred to in a very clever caricature published by Tegg on the 1st of December, 1812, wherein we find General Frost shaving Boney with a razor marked “Russian steel.” Napoleon stands up to his knees in snow, and out of the nostrils of the snow fiend [General Frost] issue blasts labelled “North,” “East,” “Snow,” and “Sleet.” Seven days later on, we meet with a roughly-executed cartoon, Polish Diet with French Dessert, wherein we see Napoleon basted by General Benningsen, the spit being turned by a Russian bear. This caricature, no doubt, has reference to the disastrous defeat by Benningsen of the French advanced guard, thirty thousand strong, under Murat, on the 18th of October, 1812, when fifteen hundred prisoners, thirty-eight cannon, and the whole of the baggage of the corps, besides other trophies, fell into the victors’ hands.

The retreat from Moscow is referred to in a satire published by Thomas Tegg on the 7th of March, 1813, labelled, The Corsican Bloodhound beset by the Bears of Russia; wherein Napoleon is represented as a mongrel bloodhound with a tin kettle tied to his tail, closely pursued by Russian bears. Various papers are flying out of the kettle, labelled “Oppression,” “Famine,” “Frost,” “Destruction,” “Death,” “Horror,” “Mortality,” “Annihilation.” “Push on, my lads,” says one of the pursuers. “No grumbling; keep scent of him; no sucking of paws this winter, here is food for the bears in all the Russias.” The emperor, in truth, had the narrowest escape from being made a prisoner by the Cossacks, a fact alluded to in another caricature published by Tegg in June, 1813, entitled, Nap nearly Nab’d, or a Retreating Jump just in time. Here, the emperor and one of his marshals are depicted leaping out of window, at the very moment when a Cossack with his lance appears outside the palings. “Vite,” says the marshal, in the peculiar patois adopted by the English caricaturists of the early part of the century, “Courez, mon Empereur, ce Diable de Cossack, dey spoil our dinner!!!”

Napoleon collected his marshals around him at Smorgoni, on the The Bulletin. 5th of December, 1812, and dictated a bulletin which developed the horrors of the retreat, and explained to them his reasons for returning to Paris. “I quit you,” he said, “but go to seek three hundred thousand men.” He then proceeded to lay the blame on the King of Westphalia, and his trusted and tried friend the Duc d’Abrantes; alleged that English torches had turned Moscow into a heap of ashes; and added (with greater truthfulness) that the cold had done the rest of the mischief. He entrusted the command to Murat, and bidding them farewell set out, accompanied only by Generals Coulaincourt, Duroc, and Mouton, the Mameluke Rustan, a captain of the Polish lancers, and an escort of Neapolitan horsemen. This event is referred to in a caricature, published by S. W. Fores on the 1st of January, 1813, entitled, Boney returning from Russia covered with Glory, leaving his army in comfortable winter quarters. Napoleon and Coulaincourt are seated in a sleigh driven by another general in jack boots, with a tremendous cocked hat on his head, a huge sword by his side, and a formidable whip in his hand. Coulaincourt inquires, “Will your Majesty write the bulletin?” “No,” replies Napoleon; “you write it. Tell them we left the army all well, quite gay; in excellent quarters; plenty of provisions; that we travelled in great style; received everywhere with congratulations; and that I had almost completed the repose of Europe” (a favourite expression of his). By way of contrast to these grandiloquent phrases, the eye is attracted to the surroundings. The ground is thickly coated with snow; in the foreground, two famished wretches cut and devour raw flesh from a dead horse. On all sides lie dead and dying men and animals, while in the distance we behold the flying and demoralized troops chased by a cloud of Cossacks. The English caricaturists follow the emperor into the sanctity of his private life; they depict in their own homely but forcible fashion the astonishment of the empress at his unexpected return, and the disgust of young “Boney the Second,” who not only expresses surprise that his imperial sire had forgotten his promise to “bring him some Russians to cut up,” but suggests that they seem to have “cut him up” instead. These incidents are described in a satire entitled, Nap’s Glorious Return; or, the Conclusion of the Russian campaign, published by Tegg, in June, 1813.

The crushing defeat of Vitoria, the crowning disaster of Leipzig—sustained the same year, the subsequent abdication of Bonaparte, the return from Elba, the brief incident of the “hundred days,” the catastrophe of Waterloo, and the subsequent consignment of the great emperor to St. Helena, form of course the subjects of a host of graphic satires. Foremost amongst them (for Gillray’s intellect was gone), must be mentioned the caricatures of Thomas Rowlandson and of George Cruikshank. The first being fully described in Mr. Grego’s work, we are not called on to mention them here, while the last will be fully set out when we come to treat of the caricature work of George Cruikshank.

The French royalist satirists of course expressed their views on French Royalist Satires. the situation. A French royalist caricature, published after Waterloo, represents Napoleon as a dancing bear forced to caper by England, his keeper, who makes an unsparing use of the lash, whilst Russia and Prussia play pipe and drum by way of music. A good answer, however, to this is found in a French caricature (published in the Napoleon interest), like most of the French satires of that period without date, entitled, L’après dinée des Anglais, par un Français prisonnier-de-guerre, which satirizes the after-dinner drinking propensities of the English of the period. The caricature, although neither flattering nor altogether decent, is probably not an exaggerated picture of English after-dinner conviviality while the century was young.

Gillray.] [“Royal Affability,” Feb. 10th. “Well, friend, where a’ you going, hay? What’s yourname, hay? Where do you live, hay?—hay?”
Gillray.] [Connoisseur examining a Cooper June 18th, 1792. A CONNOISSEUR IN ART.	Gillray.] [“A Lesson in Apple Dumplings.” “Hay? hay? apple dumplings?—how get the apples in?—how?Are they made without seams?” [Face p. 24.

By far the most biting, the most sarcastic, the most effective, and the most popular of the anti-Bonaparte caricatures are those by James Gillray, which commence before the close of the last century, and end in 1811, the year when the lurid genius of this greatest and most original of satirists was quenched in the darkness of mental imbecility. James Gillray, however, like his able friend and contemporary, Thomas Rowlandson, does not fall within our definition of a “nineteenth century” satirist; and I am precluded from describing them. I have before me the admirable anti-Bonaparte satires of both artists; and inseparably linked as they are with the men who began work after 1800, the almost irresistible tendency is to describe some of them in elucidation of the events to which I have occasion to refer. To do so, however, although fascinating and easy, would be not only to wander from my purpose, but to invade the province of the late Thomas Wright and of Mr. Grego, which I am not called upon to do; to refer to them, however, for the purpose of this chapter, I have found not only necessary, but unavoidable.

Caricature, like literary satire (as we all know from the days of Injustice of the Caricaturists. the “Dunciad” downwards), has little concern with justice; but we who look back after the lapse of the greater part of the century, and have moreover studied the history and the surroundings of Napoleon Bonaparte, may afford at least to do him justice. Gillray is a fair exponent of the intense hatred with which Bonaparte was regarded in this country, when not only the little “Corsican,” but those about him, were held up to a ridicule which, oftentimes vulgar, partook not unfrequently of absolute brutality. Who would imagine, for instance, that the fat blousy female quaffing deep draughts of Maraschino from a goblet, in his famous satire of the Handwriting on the Wall, was intended for the refined and delicate Josephine? Occasionally, however, James Gillray descended to a lower depth, as in his Ci Devant Occupations (of 20th February, 1805), in which we see this delicate woman, with the frail but lovely Spaniard, Theresa de Cabarrus (Madame Tallien), figuring in a manner to which the most infamous women of Drury Lane would have hesitated to descend. Josephine de la Pagerie, as we all know, was anything but blameless; which indeed of les Déesses de la Revolution could pass unscathed through the fiery furnace of the Terror?[14] But this miscalled satire of James Gillray, which he dubs “a fact,” is nothing They mistake the character of Bonaparte. less than a poisonous libel. As for le petit Caporal himself, everyone now knows, that while he viewed the carnage of the battlefield with the indifference of a conqueror, he shrank in horror from the murderers of the Swiss; from Danton and his satellites, the Septembrist massacrists; from the mock trials and cold-blooded atrocities of the Terrorists. Standing apart from these last by right of his unexampled genius, with Danton, Marat, Robespíerre, Couthon, Carrier, Napoleon Bonaparte has nothing whatever in common. Looking back upon the ruins of his empire, the mistakes he had made, the faults he had committed, Napoleon, with reference at least to his own personal elevation, might say with truth: “Nothing has been more simple than my elevation. It was not the result of intrigue or crime. It was owing to the peculiar circumstance of the times, and because I fought successfully against the enemies of my country. What is most extraordinary is, that I rose from being a private person to the astonishing height of power I possessed, without having committed a single crime to obtain it. If I were on my death-bed I could make the same declaration.”[15]

To these facts, of course, James Gillray (if indeed he knew them) closed his eyes. In his sketch of the 12th of May, 1800, he shows us the young lieutenant at the head of tattered legions directing the destruction of the royal palaces. Blinded by the prejudice of his times, he seems apparently ignorant of the fact that Napoleon although a spectator of the attack on the Tuileries, had no power; that if he had, he would (as he himself expressed it at the time) have swept the sanguinary canaille into the gutters with his grape shot. Again, in his satires, he connects him repeatedly with the guillotine, to all appearance unconscious of the fact that between Napoleon and the guillotine no possible sympathy existed.

******

A good idea of the appearance and costume of “the general” Robert Dighton’s Sketches. and notables of the early part of the century, is given by the sketches of the last century artist, Robert Dighton. His etchings are not caricatures, as may be supposed, but likenesses of the oi polloi—the university dons—the prize-fighters—the butchers—the singers—actors—actresses—the men about town (“Corinthians,” as they were termed in the slang of the Regency)—the “upper ten”; and what amazingly queer folks were these last! The Duke of Grafton, with his tremendous beak, wig, and cocked hat, his mahogany tops and spurs, his long coat with the flapped pockets and his star; the Marquis of Buckingham, with his red fat face and double chin, which told tales of nightly good cheer, his cocked hat, military coatee, and terrific paunch, which resisted all attempts to confine it within reasonable military compass; John Bellingham—the murderer of Spencer Perceval,—with his retreating forehead, long pointed nose, drab cloth coat and exuberant shirt frill; “What? What? What?”—Great George himself, as he appeared in 1810, in full military panoply—huge ill-fitting boots, huge blue military coat, collar, lappets, and star, a white-powdered bob surmounting a clean-shaved unintellectual face, the distinguishing characteristics of which were a pair of protruding eyes surmounted by ponderous eyebrows.

A well-drawn caricature published by S. W. Fores on the 11th of May, 1801, gives us an admirable idea of the male and female costume of the period. It contains sixteen figures, and is entitled Tea just Over, or the Game of Consequences begun. “Consequences” would appear to have been a fashionable game at this time; but the “consequences” here alluded to are the immediate results of a pinch of snuff. The “consequences” of one gentleman sneezing are the following: he jerks the arm of the lady next him, the result being that she pours her cup of scalding hot tea over the knees of her neighbour, a testy old gentleman, who in his fright and pain raises his arms, jerking off with his cane the wig of a person standing at the back of his chair, who in the attempt to save his wig upsets his own cup and saucer upon the pate of his antagonist Another guest, with his mouth full of tea, witnessing this absurd contretemps is unable to restrain his laughter, the result of which is that he blows a stream of tea into the left ear of the man who has lost his wig, at the same time setting his own pigtail alight in the adjoining candle. All these disasters, passing in rapid succession from left to right, are the direct “consequences” of one unfortunate pinch of snuff.

The year 1804 witnessed the advent of a performer whose theatrical reputation, notwithstanding the wonderful sensation it created for a couple of seasons, was not destined to survive his childhood. The brief furore he excited, enabled his friends to lay by for him a considerable fortune, which enabled him to regard the memory of his immature triumphs and subsequent failures with resignation. Master Betty, “the Young Roscius,” was not quite thirteen years Master Betty. of age when he made his first appearance at Covent Garden on the 1st of December, 1804, as Achmet in Barbarossa. He played alternately at the two great houses; twenty-eight nights at Drury Lane brought £17,210 into the treasury, whilst the receipts at Covent Garden during the same period are supposed to have been equally large. A rough caricature of 1804, bearing the signature “I. B.,” depicts the child standing with one foot on Drury Lane and the other on Covent Garden, with a toy whip in one hand and a rattle in the other, while two full-grown actors of real merit bemoan the decadence of public taste on the pavement below. Some years later on the pair might have said with Byron,—

The leading home political incident of 1806 was the impeachment and acquittal of Lord Melville, an event which is dealt with by Gillray, and also by Rowlandson in his graphic satire of The Acquittal, or Upsetting the Porter Pot, both artists alluding to Whitbread, the brewer, the head of the advanced Liberals, and one of the principal movers of Lord Melville’s impeachment.

Gas, which now promises to be superseded in its turn by Introduction of Gas. electricity, was introduced into Boulton & Watts’ foundry, at Birmingham, as early as the year 1798, and the Lyceum Theatre was lit with gas (by way of experiment) in 1803; it met however with much opposition from persons interested in the conservation of the oil trade, and made no real progress in London until 1807, when it was introduced into Golden Lane on the 16th of August. Pall Mall, however, was not lighted with gas until 1809, and it was really not finally and generally introduced into London until the year 1820. We meet with an excellent satire published by S. W. Fores, in 1807, wherein a harlequin is depicted sitting on a rope suspended between a couple of lamp posts. The lamps and the hat of the figure are garnished with lighted burners; the neighbours in the windows of the adjoining houses, the people on the pavement below, the fowls, the dogs, the cats on the roofs, are suffocated with the noxious vapour. The figure holds in his hand a paper, whereon we read, “This is the speculation to make money, £10,000 per cent. profit all in Air-light air. ’Tis there, ’tis here, and ’tis gone for ever.” This caricature bears the title of The Good Effects of Carbonic Gas. A caricature of Woodward, engraved by Rowlandson, and published by Ackermann on the 23rd of December, 1809, gives us A Peep at the Gas Lights in Pall Mall, the interest of which chiefly centres in the eccentric form of the early street lamps. Among the groups looking on are a wondering “country cousin” and a “serious” companion. “Ay, friend,” says the latter, anxious of course, in season and out of season, to turn the occasion to profitable account, “verily it is all vanity! What is this to the inward light?” Some more disreputable members of the community are expressing their fears that the new light will interfere with their own peculiar modes of livelihood.

A clever and somewhat remarkable woman succeeded in achieving an unenviable notoriety in 1809. The daughter of a printer residing in Bowl and Pin Alley, near White’s Alley, Chancery Lane, the remarkably intelligent girl had early attracted the notice of friends, one of whom placed her at a boarding school, where she picked up an education (such as it was) sufficient to sharpen her natural abilities. Her commencement in life was scarcely a hopeful one. Mary Anne Thompson eloped at seventeen years of age with one Joseph Clarke, the son of a builder on Snow Hill, and after living with him three years married him. The marriage was not a happy one. The pair after some years separated, and Mary Anne was thenceforth driven to trust for her support to her own resources and attractions.

These proved fully equal to the occasion. Somewhat small in Mary Anne Clarke. stature, nature had nevertheless endowed her with a remarkably well turned figure, well shaped arms, comely features, a singularly clear complexion, and blue eyes full of light and vivacity. Dressing with considerable taste and elegance—utterly shameless—without principle or character, with nothing to lose—everything to gain, the woman was eminently fitted to succeed in the peculiar path in life she had elected to follow. Throwing her line with all the dexterity of an accomplished angler, she succeeded almost at her first cast in hooking a very large fish indeed—his Royal Highness Frederick Duke of York, Commander-in-chief, Prince-bishop of Osnaburgh, who had attained at this time the respectable age of forty-six years.

Mary Anne proved, as might have been expected, an expensive plaything. In the short space of two years, the duke seems to have handed his mistress upwards of £5,000, besides expending on her in payments to tradesmen for wine, furniture, and other “paraphernalia,” at least £16,000 or £17,000 more. In time, as is not unusual in matters of this kind, the duke seems to have grown tired of his enslaver, and endeavoured to pension her off with an annuity of £400 a year; but with the niggardliness which was so distinguishing a characteristic of his family, payment was not only withheld, but when the woman applied for payment, the duke was mean and foolish enough to threaten her with prison and the pillory. Mrs. Clarke, a woman of genius and resource, instead of being frightened, straightway betook herself to Messrs. Wilberforce and Whitbread, the supporters of the impeachment of Lord Melville, and confessed to them certain irregularities of which she had been guilty.

Into the unsavoury revelations of Mary Anne Clarke, her traffic in the sale of military commissions, and still worse, in a system of ecclesiastical patronage in which she alleged his Royal Highness connived, we need not enter. They are set out as far as is necessary in Mr. Grego’s book, and also in Mr. Wright’s treatise on James Gillray and his works. Suffice it to say, that all these miserable exposures would have been saved, had the duke, instead of seeking to save his pocket, paid the annuity to which the woman was entitled. If by resigning, he thought to silence his unscrupulous persecutor, he was quickly and unpleasantly undeceived. The clever, unscrupulous woman had reserved her trump-card to the last. All this time she had been engaged in preparing her “Memoirs,” comprising not only the history of her transactions with his Royal Highness, but a series of his letters, containing, it is said, anecdotes of illustrious personages of the most curious and recherché description. The immediate publication of these “Memoirs” having been announced to his Royal Highness, the duke was driven in spite of himself to effect an arrangement. For a payment of £7,000 down, an annuity of £400 for her own life, and one of £200 for each of her daughters, the printed “Memoirs” (eighteen thousand copies) were destroyed, the publication suppressed, and above all the terrible private correspondence duly surrendered.

The mover of the committee of inquiry was one Wardle, colonel of a militia regiment, who for a very brief space of time was permitted to figure as a patriot; that he was a mere instrument in the hands of other persons seems now abundantly clear. No sooner had Mary Anne Clarke landed his Royal Highness, than she fixed her hook in the jaws of the luckless colonel, who, tool as he was, proved to be by no means a sharp one. It is obvious a woman of Mrs. Clarke’s character would be the last person to open her lips, unless it was made clear to her that it would be worth her while to do so. Her go-between in the transaction was a certain “Major” Dodd. Wardle gave Mrs. Clarke £100 for present necessities, and by way of earnest of more liberal promises which seem afterwards to have been repudiated by his employers. Through Major Dodd, the clever, unprincipled woman secured a house in Westbourne Place, which she furnished in a style of comfortable elegance, and succeeded by her blandishments in swindling Wardle into becoming security for her furniture. The inevitable result of course followed. On the 3rd July, 1809, Wright, the upholsterer, brought his action against Wardle and recovered £1,400 damages,[17] besides costs, “for furniture sold to the defendant to the use of Mary Anne Clarke.” The colonel, like the commander-in-chief, thus found himself not only out-manœuvred by his clever and unscrupulous ex-ally, but reaped the obloquy attendant on exposure and ridicule, instead of the glorification which had at first greeted his patriotic exertions.

Mary Anne Clarke and the Duke of York, afforded (as might have been expected) plenty of employment to the caricaturists. The theme, however, is treated too grossly for description, a subject to be regretted, as most of the satires, containing as they do admirable portraits of the principal personages, are exceedingly clever. The subject suited an artist who delighted in delineating the immodest and full-blown beauties of Drury Lane; and accordingly, more than forty caricatures on the subject of “The Delicate Investigation,” as it was called, are due to the pencil of Thomas Rowlandson.

In order to show the character of this infamous woman, we must The end of Mary Anne Clarke. follow her progress a little farther than either Mr. Grego or Mr. Wright appear to have done. In February, 1814, she once more made a public appearance: this time in the Court of Queen’s Bench. She seems to have got the Right Hon. William Fitzgerald, Chancellor of the Irish Exchequer, by some means or other into her clutches, in connection with the proceedings of 1809. By this time, however, she had descended so low, that exposure was threatened unless a sum of money was deposited under a stone. In her threats, she announced her intention of “submitting to the public in a very short time two or three volumes, which might be followed by others as opportunity should suit or circumstances require.” This threat, instead of extorting money, consigned Mary Anne to the custody of the marshal of the King’s Bench Prison for the space of nine calendar months, at the end of which period she was ordered to find securities to keep the peace for a space of three years. It might have gone harder with the brazen woman if the proceedings had taken any other form than that of an indictment for libel, and if she had not admitted her fault, and in some measure thrown herself upon the mercy of the court. The pages of history do not appear to be sullied with the intrusion of Mary Anne Clarke’s name after this period.

The year 1811 is marked by an event which claims special record in a work treating of English caricatures and caricaturists of the century. In that year, James Gillray executed the last of his famous etchings; and although mere existence was prolonged for nearly four years afterwards, till the 1st of June, 1815, he sank in 1811 into that hopeless and dreary state of mingled imbecility and delirium from which the intellect of this truly great and original genius was destined never to recover.

[9] “If it had not been for you English, I should have been Emperor of the East; but wherever there is water enough to float a ship, we are sure to find you in our way.”—Napoleon to Captain Maitland. See Maitland’s “Narrative of the Surrender of Bonaparte,” p. 99.

[10] London Chronicle, December 6th, 1806.

[11] See also Gillray’s previous satire of the 23rd of January, 1806 (which probably suggested this), Tiddy Doll, the Great French Gingerbread Baker, drawing out a new batch of kings.

[12] See also Gillray’s cartoon of 1st October, 1807, British Tars towing the Danish Fleet into Harbour.

[13] See vol. ii., p. 92, et seq.

[14] In a loose age, Madame Tallien, notwithstanding such virtues as she possessed, was a loose character. Between 1798 and 1802 she had three children, who were registered in her family name of Cabarrus. On the 8th of April, 1802, at her own request a divorce was pronounced from Tallien, and with two husbands still alive she married (14th July, 1805,) Count Joseph de Caraman, soon after heir of the Prince de Chimay. She died in the odour of sanctity, on the 15th of January, 1835.

[15] O’Meara, vol. i, p. 250.

[16] “English Bards and Scotch Reviewers.”

[17] According to Mr. Grego, £2,000.

CHAPTER III.

MISCELLANEOUS CARICATURES AND SUBJECTS OF CARICATURE, 1812-1819.

Drury Lane Theatre, which was burnt down in 1811, was rebuilt 1812. the following year, and the committee, anxious to celebrate the opening by an address of merit corresponding to the occasion, Rebuilding of Drury Lane Theatre. advertised in the papers for such a composition. Theatrical addresses, however, as we all know by reference to a recent occasion,[18] are not always up to the mark; and whether the result of their appeal was unsatisfactory, or whether—as appears not unlikely—they were appalled by the number of competitors, which is said to have been upwards of one hundred, not one was accepted, the advertisers preferring to seek the assistance of Lord Byron, who wrote the actual address which was spoken at the opening on the 10th of October, 1812. Among the competitors was a Dr. Busby, living in Queen Anne Street, who apparently unable to realize the fact that competent men could have the effrontery to reject his “monologue,” refused to accept the verdict of the committee. A few evenings afterwards, the audience and the company were electrified by an unexpected sensation. Busby and his son sat in one of the stage boxes; and the latter, to the amazement of the audience, stepped at the end of the play from his box upon the stage, and began to recite his father’s nonsense, as follows:—

The question remained unanswered; for Raymond, the stage Dr. Busby’s “Monologue.” manager, walked at this moment upon the stage accompanied by a constable, and gave the amateur performer into custody. It is said that his father, not content with this failure, actually made an attempt to recite the “monologue” from his box, until hissed and howled down by the half laughing, half indignant audience. The circumstance is commemorated by an admirable pictorial satire entitled, A Buz in a Box, or the Poet in a Pet, published by S. W. Fores on the 21st of October, in which we see the doctor gesticulating from his box, and imploring the audience to listen to his “monologue.” Young Busby, seated on his father’s Pegasus (an ass), quotes one of the verses of the absurd composition, while the animal (after the manner of its kind) answers the hisses of the audience by elevating its heels and uttering a characteristic “hee haw.” By the side of Busby junior stands the manager (Raymond), apologetically addressing the audience. Certain pamphlets lie scattered in front of the stage, on which are inscribed (among others) the following doggerel:—

Dr. Busby was a person desirous of achieving literary notoriety at any amount of personal inconvenience. He translated Lucretius, and is said to have given public recitations, accompanied with bread and butter and tea; but in spite of these attractions, the public did not come and the book would not sell, facts which a wicked wag of the period ridiculed, by inserting the following announcement in the column of births of one of the newspapers: “Yesterday, at his house in Queen Anne Street, Dr. Busby of a stillborn Lucretius.”

The medical profession is ridiculed in a satire published in 1813. 1813: Doctors Differ, or Dame Nature against the College.[19] Four physicians have quarrelled in consultation over the nature of their patient’s malady, and the proper mode of administering to his relief. Unable to convince one another, they wax so warm in argument that they speedily proceed from words to blows. “I say,” shouts one (beneath the feet of the other three), “I say it is an exfoliation of the glands which has fallen on the membranous coils of the intestines, and must be thrown off by an emetic.” “I say,” says another, raising at the same time his cane to protect his head, “I say it is a pleurisie in the thigh, and must be sweated away.” “You are a blockhead!” cries a third, furiously striking at him with his professional cane. “I say it is a nervous affection of the cutis, and the patient must immediately lose eighteen ounces of blood, and then take a powerful drastic.” “What are you quarrelling about?” asks a fourth, arresting the downfall of his professional brother’s cane. “You are all wrong! I say it is an inflammation in the os sacrum, and therefore fourteen blisters must be immediately applied to the part affected and the adjacents.” The table is down, and the prescriptions of the learned doctors covered with the ink which flows from the ruined inkstand. The amused patient (whom nature has meanwhile relieved of the cause and effect) watches the combat from the adjoining bedroom, and makes preparations to retreat and save both his “pocket and his life.”

The year 1814 was marked by the bursting of one of the most 1814. extraordinary religious bubbles with which England has ever been scandalized. The person identified with and responsible for the craze to which we allude, was Joanna Southcott, the daughter of Joanna Southcott. a farmer residing at the village of Gettisham, in Devonshire, where she herself was born in the month of April, 1750. At the time, therefore, the imposture was made patent to such of her deluded followers as retained any remnants of the small stock of common sense with which nature had originally endowed them, Joanna was sixty-four years of age.

The village girl appears to have been a constant reader of the Scriptures, which she studied with so much enthusiasm, that a strong religious bias was established, which took almost entire possession of her mind. Still, no marked peculiarity was manifested until after she had attained forty years of age, at which time we find her employed as a workwoman at an upholsterer’s shop at Exeter. The proprietor being a Methodist, the shop was visited by ministers of that persuasion, and Joanna, with her “serious turn of mind,” was not only permitted to join in their discussions, but was regarded by these harmless folk somewhat in the light of a prodigy. To a mind predisposed to religious mania (for it would be unjust to stigmatize Joanna altogether as a wilful impostor) the result was peculiarly unfortunate; she was visited with dreams, which she quickly accepted as spiritual manifestations, instead of being, as they really were, indications of a disordered digestion.

Two years afterwards Joanna retired from secular business, and set up as a prophetess at Exeter. She declared herself to be the woman spoken of as “the bride,” “the Lamb’s wife,” the “woman clothed with the sun.” The county lunatic asylum might have done good at this point; but its wholesome discipline, unfortunately, was not resorted to. She published in 1801 her first inspired book, “The Strange Effects of Faith,” which absolutely brought five “wise men of Gotham” to inquire into her pretensions from different parts of England. Three of these learned pundits were Methodist parsons, and these three parsons declared themselves satisfied that the mission of Joanna was a divine one. It is needless to add that in England, no matter how absurd the nature of a so-called divine mission, it is safe and certain to attract believers; and by the year 1803 the doctrines of Joanna Southcott were eagerly swallowed by numerous simpletons in various parts of the country.

Thus fortified, Joanna issued a manifesto, in which she stated her calling and pretensions: we set it out in all the original baldness of its composition:—

“I, Joanna Southcott, am clearly convinced that my calling is of God, and my writings are indited by His Spirit, as it is impossible for any spirit but an all-wise God, that is wondrous in working, wondrous in wisdom, wondrous in power, wondrous in truth, could have brought round such mysteries, so full of truth, as is in my writings; so I am clear in whom I have believed, that all my writings came from the spirit of the most high God.”

Joanna was clear in whom she believed, and her followers were equally “clear” in their belief in Joanna. This incoherent nonsense was signed in the presence of fifty-eight simpletons, all of whom expressed their confidence in the inspired mission of their precious prophetess.

Her disciples rapidly increased, and she visited in her apostolic character, Bristol, Leeds, Stockport, and other large centres, obtaining numerous converts everywhere. Among them was the celebrated engraver, William Sharp; and to the last this man, who out of his calling was the veriest simpleton living, and who had swallowed successively the doctrines of Richard Brothers, Wright, Bryan, and Joanna, believed in the divine mission of this unincarcerated lunatic.

Although Joanna did not (like Joseph Smith) discover a book, she discovered a seal, which one of her disciples is said to have picked up in a dust-heap at Clerkenwell. With this miraculously acquired talisman the spirit ordered her to “seal up the people,” and as “the people” were limited to one hundred and forty-four thousand, and each of the elect had to pay a sum varying at different times from a guinea to twelve shillings, or even lower, for the privilege of being “sealed up,” the scheme promised at first to turn out a comfortably profitable one. Into the details of the “sealing” it is unnecessary for us to enter. Suffice it to say that the numbers of the “sealed,” up to 1808, when for some unexplained reason the process appears to have been discontinued, exceeded six thousand simpletons; the numbers of her deluded followers in the metropolis and its vicinity alone, are supposed at one time to have amounted to a hundred thousand.

Joanna was a coarse, common-place, and somewhat corpulent woman; she dressed in a plain, quaker-like garb, in a gown of Calimancoe, with a shawl and bonnet of drab colour. The three leading preachers in her chapel in Southwark (her great stronghold), were a Mr. Carpenter, who, after learning his business, set up as a prophet on his own account; a Mr. Foley, and a lath-render named Tozer. She had chapels also in Spitalfields, Greenwich, Twickenham, and Gravesend.

The scribblings in prose and verse of this illiterate creature, instead of being committed to the waste paper basket, were solemnly preserved and received as prophecies. Attacked at last with dropsy, her delusions assumed the following objectionable form: she prophesied, and Sharp and his fellow-disciples—some of whom were men of fair education—actually believed, that Christ was to be born again under the name of “Shiloh,” and that she, Joanna, at the age of sixty-five, was to be the mother. The revelation which proclaimed the miraculous accouchement was worded as follows: “This year [1814], in the sixty-fifth year of thy age, thou shalt have a son by the power of the Most High; which if they (the Hebrews) receive as their prophet, priest, and king, then I will restore them to their own land, and cast out the heathen for their sakes, as I cast out them when they cast out Me, by rejecting Me as their Saviour, Prince, and King, for which I said I was born, but not at that time to establish My kingdom.”

One might have imagined that this gibberish would open the eyes of some at least of her votaries: their insane enthusiasm, on the contrary, increased. Joanna was absolutely inundated with the “freewill” offerings of the faithful—a costly cradle, white robes, pinafores, shoes of satin and worsted, flannel shirts, napkins, blankets, silver spoons, pap-boats, mugs, silver tea-pots, sugar-basins, tongs, and corals,—absolutely without number. The absurdity of the simpletons who sent these offerings was severely criticised, both in England and on the Continent; and by way apparently of answering her traducers, Joanna inserted an apostolical advertisement in the Morning Chronicle of Thursday, 22nd September, 1814, and in the Courier of Friday, 23rd, in which she stated that, in consequence of the false and malicious reports in circulation respecting herself, she was desirous of treating for “a spacious and ready-furnished house to be hired for three months, in which her accouchement may take place in the presence of such competent witnesses as shall be appointed by proper authority to prove her character to the world.” The appointed day—the 29th of October—however passed by, and the prophecy remained of course unfulfilled, although, in the manufacturing towns of the north, crowds of the faithful assembled to wait the arrival of the coaches, in expectation of tidings of the great manifestation. The satire entitled, Delivering a Prophetess (in vol. 8 of “The Scourge”), has reference to the actual event which occurred on the 27th of December, 1814, when death relieved Joanna of her delusions and her dropsy; the wretched creature declaring on her deathbed that, “if she had been deceived, she had at all events been the sport of some spirit, good or evil.” Joanna forms the subject of one of Rowlandson’s caricatures of 1814, Joanna Southcott, the Prophetess, Excommunicating the Bishops, published by Tegg on the 20th of September, 1814. We shall also have to refer to her again when we treat of the caricatures of George Cruikshank.

This year (1814) the Princess Charlotte, heiress presumptive Flight of the Princess Charlotte. actually ran away in a hackney coach, to avoid being affianced to the Prince of Orange, to whom Her Royal Highness evinced an invincible repugnance. The event is referred to in a caricature entitled, Plebeian Spirit, or Coachee and the Heiress Presumptive (published by Fores on the 25th of July), which shows us the princess emerging from Warwick House, followed by Britannia (who raises her hands in a suppliant attitude), and the dejected British lion. “Coachman, will you protect me?” she appeals to the driver. “Yes, yes, your Highness,” replies the fellow, “to the last drop of my blood!” A servant in the royal livery holds up his hands in amazement and horror, while another spurs off in hot haste to apprise the Regent of the flight of his daughter. But a satire of far superior merit, entitled, Miss endeavouring to excite a glow with her Dutch Plaything,[20] was issued by the same publisher a few days previously, in which the rejected prince figures as a Dutch top, which the princess has kept spinning for some time. “There,” she says to her father at last, “I have kept it up for a long while; you may send it away now, I am tired of it; mother [i.e. the Princess Caroline] has got some better plaything for me.” “What! are you tired already?” exclaims the Regent. “Take another spell at it, or give me the whip.” “No, no,” replies Her Royal Highness; “you may take the top, but I’ll keep the whip.” Behind her is a picture representing an orange falling with Cupid headlong into space. The Regent was so incensed at his daughter’s refractoriness, that he went at once to Warwick House and dismissed all her attendants, and never forgave the Duke of Sussex for his supposed share in breaking off the connection. It was immediately after this event that her mother, the Princess Caroline, contrary to the advice of her friends and well-wishers, applied for permission to make that tour on the Continent which, owing to her own obstinate folly and contempt for the duties of her high station, was destined—as we shall afterwards find—to end in such disastrous consequences to herself.

In the course of the year 1812, England had become involved—scarcely 1812 1815. through any fault of her own—in a war with the United States of America. The causes of difference were mainly due to the obnoxious Orders in Council, which had been forced upon us in consequence of the Berlin and Milan Decrees of Napoleon. As an evidence, however, of our own friendly intentions, it may be mentioned that the Regent had issued a declaration on the 23rd of April, that if at any time the obnoxious decrees should by an authentic act be absolutely repealed, thenceforth the Orders in Council of 7th January, 1807, and 26th April, 1809, should be revoked; America and England. and the American representative, having, on the 20th of May, transmitted to the English Court a copy of a French decree of the 20th of April, by which the decrees of Milan and Berlin were declared to be no longer in force, so far as American vessels were concerned, the Regent declared that, although he could not accept the terms of the decree as satisfying the conditions of his own declaration of the 23rd of April, yet, with the view of re-establishing friendly relations, he revoked the Orders in Council of 7th January, 1807, and April 26th, 1809, so far as regarded American vessels and American cargoes. Of this repeal, be it observed, the United States Government took no notice, it might be in consequence of the very reasonable proviso annexed to the Regent’s concession, that unless the Government of the United States revoked their exclusion of British armed vessels from their harbours, while those of France were admitted, and their interdiction of British commerce, while that of France was allowed, the order was to be of no effect.

A very old English proverb tells us that “a stick is never wanting to beat a dog;” and where one nation wishes to fasten a quarrel on another, and the opportunity be favourable, there will be no difficulty in finding an excuse. There were other causes of discontent; in particular our claim to search not only for English goods, but for British seamen serving on board neutral vessels; and as the sovereignty of the seas depended on upholding these assumptions, our Government was as strenuous in enforcing them as the French emperor was bent on the maintenance of his continental system.

The Americans, however, were anxious for a war with this country, and in particular, the opportunity seemed eminently favourable for attempting the conquest of Canada. A motion in the House of Representatives, for the indefinite postponement of a bill for raising 25,000 additional troops, was rejected by a majority of 98 to 29. An outrageous bill, specially intended as an insult to England, was introduced into the same House about the end of April, “for the protection, recovery, and indemnification of American seamen,” the first clause of which declared that every person who, under pretence of a commission from a foreign power, should impress upon Hostile Spirit of the Americans. the high seas a native seaman of the United States, should be adjudged a pirate and a felon, and should upon conviction suffer death. Another of its articles gave to every such seaman impressed under the British flag, the right of attaching in the hands of any British subject, or in the hands of any debtor of any British subject, a sum equal to thirty dollars per month for the whole time of his detention. This monstrous bill was actually allowed to pass a third reading. The temper of the Americans may be judged by the result of the voting on Mr. Randolph’s motion in the same House, on the 29th of May. That gentleman submitted “that, under the present circumstances, it was inexpedient to resort to a war with Great Britain.” The question being then put, that the House do proceed to the consideration of the said resolution, it was negatived by 62 votes against 37. Under the overpowering influence of these feelings, war was declared against England on the 18th of June, 1812; our own declaration was not issued until the 13th of October following.

“Our American cousins,” did not wait for this joinder of issue; they had invaded Canada early in July. On the 11th of that month, the American General Hull, with a body of 2,500 men—regulars and militia—crossed the river above Detroit with most disastrous consequences to himself. He was speedily forced to retreat, and on the 16th of August to surrender the important fort of Detroit itself, with his 2,500 men and thirty-three pieces of artillery. Although this disaster seriously disconcerted the American plans of invasion, the design was by no means abandoned. A considerable force was assembled in the neighbourhood of Niagara, and on the 13th of October, the American General Wadsworth, with some 1,400 men, made an attack on the British position of Queenstown, on the Niagara river. Wadsworth, with 900 men and many officers, was speedily compelled to surrender to British forces not exceeding the number of his own following.

On the other hand, the losses of the Americans on land were to some extent balanced by their naval successes. On the 19th of August, the English frigate Guerriere, Captain Dacres, was forced American Naval Successes. after a gallant but (as we shall see) unequal fight, to strike her colours to the American frigate Constitution, Captain Hull. Under similar conditions, the English frigate Macedonia, Captain Carden, was forced on the 25th of October, after an hour’s hard fighting, in which the English lost 104 men killed and wounded, to yield to the American frigate United States, Commodore Decatur. These successes were due to the following causes: the rate of the American frigates corresponded to the largest British; but in size, weight of metal, and number of men, were almost equal to line-of-battle ships; the American navy too, at this time, was manned by sailors many of whom were unfortunately British tars, while many more had been trained in British service.

Although we do not profess to give a history of the Anglo-American war of 1812-14, some slight sketch of its more remarkable incidents seems necessary for the purpose of enabling the reader to understand what has to follow. Having named some of the American naval successes, we can scarcely pass over the well-known fight of the 1st of June, 1813. Captain Broke, of the British frigate Shannon, 330 men, burning with indignation at the naval defeats of his countrymen, having diligently perfected his crew in discipline, offered battle to the United States frigate Chesapeake, for which he had long been watching. The Chesapeake was a fine ship, carrying forty-nine guns (18- and 32-pounders) and a complement of 440 men. The American captain, nothing loth, bore down on his antagonist off Boston light-house. The ships were soon in close contact; but the gallant English captain, discerning his opportunity, gave orders for boarding, himself setting the example; and after a sanguinary fight of only fifteen minutes, hauled down his adversary’s flag and carried off the Chesapeake in triumph. The invasion of Canada was still persevered in by the Americans, with varying successes and defeats; but the results of the campaign of 1813 were in the end disastrous to them; and by the 12th of December, both provinces of Canada were freed from the invaders, who retired to winter quarters within their own territory. Another determined attempt to penetrate into Canada was made by them The English Assume the Offensive. in July, 1814, the British troops in the first instance being obliged to fall back: this was on the 5th. Their triumph, however, was of brief duration. Veteran troops, who had served under Wellington in Spain, had meanwhile arrived at Quebec; General Drummond arrested the further retreat of Riall’s division, and a decisive battle ensued, which terminated in the defeat of the Americans, who were obliged to retire with precipitation beyond the Chippewa. On the following day they abandoned their camp, threw the greater part of their baggage and provisions into the rapids, and after destroying the bridge over the Chippewa, continued their retreat in great disorder to Fort Erie. Out of a force of 5,000 men, they had lost in killed, wounded, and prisoners at least 1,500. This defeat, and the timely arrival of veteran troops from Europe, appear to have decided the British commanders to change the defensive warfare they had hitherto adopted, and the small operations they had conducted on the coast of the southern States, for offensive movements of greater vigour.

A large naval force was despatched under the command of Vice-Admiral Cockrane, having on board a powerful land force commanded by General Ross. The latter landed on the 20th of August at Benedict; marched to Nottingham on the 21st, and to Upper Marlborough on the 22nd, Admiral Cockrane in the meanwhile, with the barges, armed launches, and other boats of the fleet, having the marines on board, proceeding up the Patuxent on the flank of the army. The American Commodore blew up his vessels, seventeen in number, with the exception of one which fell into the hands of the British. The troops reached Bladensburg (about five miles from Washington) on the 24th.

About 9,400 Americans (400 of whom were cavalry) drawn up to oppose them, were speedily routed, with the loss of ten pieces of artillery and the capture of their commanding officer, General Barney. It appears to have been General Ross’s first intention to return to his ships after laying the capital under contribution; but the Americans having fired upon the bearer of the flag of truce who was sent forward with the conditions, all thoughts of an arrangement were Burning of Washington. dissipated. The soldiers pressed into the city, and after burning a frigate and sloop of war, the President’s residence, the capitol—including the Senate House and House of Representatives, dockyard, arsenal, war office, treasury, and the great bridge over the Potomac, re-embarked on the 30th of August.

A part of the operations against Washington consisted in despatching a force against Fort Washington, situate on the Potomac below that city. Captain Gordon, the commander of this expedition, proceeded with the Sea Horse and several other vessels up the river on the 17th of August, but was unable to reach the fort till the 27th. The place being rendered untenable by the explosion of a powder magazine, the garrison spiked their guns and evacuated it next day. The populous and commercial town of Alexandria, situated higher on the river, thus lost its sole protection; and Captain Gordon, having no obstacle to oppose his progress, buoyed the channel, and placed his ships in such a position as to enforce compliance with his terms. The town (with the exception of public works) was not to be destroyed nor the inhabitants molested on compliance with the following articles:—All naval and ordnance stores, public and private, were to be given up, together with all the shipping, the furniture of which was to be sent on board by their owners; the sunk vessels to be delivered in their original condition; the merchandise of every description to be immediately delivered up, including all removed from the town since the 19th; and the British squadron to be supplied with refreshments at the market price. This capitulation was signed on the 29th; the whole of the captured vessels—twenty-one in number—were fitted, loaded, and delivered, by the 31st; and Captain Gordon had got back with all his ships and prizes, and anchored in safety in the Chesapeake by the 9th of September.

These events are referred to in a pictorial satire (published by Fores on the 4th of October, 1814), entitled, The Fall of Washington, or Maddy [i.e., President Madison] in full flight:—

James Madison and one of his ministers, habited as Quakers Flight of President Madison. (a then popular mode of ridiculing the Americans), are seen in full flight, carrying under their arms bundles of compromising papers. By the “Bill of fare of the Cabinet Supper at President Madison’s, August 24th, 1814,” which has fallen at his feet, the flight would really seem to have been of the most hasty character. “I say, Jack,” says an English tar, pointing at the same time to the flying President, “what, is that the man of war that was to annihilate us, as Master Boney used to say?” “Aye, messmate,” answers his companion; “he is a famous fighter over a bottle of Shampain; why, he’d have played —— with us if we had let him sit down to supper.” Five Americans (all Quakers) meanwhile make their own observations on the situation: “Jonathan,” says one, “where thinkest thou our President will run to now?” “Why, verily,” answers Jonathan, “to Elba, to his bosom friend.” “The great Washington,” remarks a third, “fought for liberty; but we are fighting for shadows, which, if obtained, could do us no earthly good, but this is the blessed effects of it.” “I suppose,” observes a fourth, “this is what Maddis calls benefitting his country.” “Why,” answers his friend, “it will throw such a light on affairs, that we shall find it necessary to change both men and measures.” The popular notion of the day that there had been some understanding between “Boney” and the Yankees, was scarcely unnatural under the circumstances we have narrated. The President himself is made to say to his companion, “Who would have thought of this man, to oblige us to run from the best cabinet supper I ever ordered? I hope you have taken care of Boney’s promissory notes; the people won’t stand anything after this.” “D—n his notes,” answers the other; “what are they good for now? We should get nothing but iron; he hasn’t any of his stock of brass left, or some of that would have helped us through this business.”

The caricaturist simply reflected the opinion of his countrymen in insinuating that the Yankees had some understanding or sympathy with Bonaparte; but in this they were mistaken. With Napoleon and his system the Americans had no sympathy or feelings in common. Probably all that the satirist intended to convey was the fact that they had brought the retaliatory measure (severe as it was) upon themselves, and in this undoubtedly he was right. The Americans would never have dreamed of invading Canada had they not supposed that we were so hampered with our struggle with Bonaparte in 1812. It was perhaps well for America that we were not actuated by the same embittered feelings as themselves; that our generals were incompetent, and their plans both badly conceived and most inefficiently carried out.

Notwithstanding these successes, the caricaturists proved a trifle The Caricaturists too Jubilant. too jubilant. On the 11th of September, a British naval force—consisting of a frigate, a brig, two sloops of war, and some gunboats—attacked the American flotilla before Platsburg, on Lake Champlain, and after a severe conflict were all captured, with the exception of the gun-boats, Captain Downie, the English commander, being killed at the very beginning of the engagement. Sir G. Prevost, in consequence of this disaster, began his retreat, leaving his sick and wounded to the mercy of the enemy. The Americans having now collected from all quarters, the British retired to their lines, and relinquished all idea of penetrating into the State of New York. On the 12th, however, an attempt was made to enter Baltimore, and although in the engagement which followed the American troops were broken and dispersed in the course of fifteen minutes, the victory was dearly purchased by the death of General Ross, while the defensive arrangements of the harbour were so perfect and so formidable, that the attempt was obliged to be given up.

Although peace was concluded in the following December, the intelligence unfortunately did not reach the belligerents in time to prevent further mistakes and bloodshed. A series of operations of the British army in the neighbourhood of New Orleans occupied the last week of December and a part of January. An army had been collected for an attack on that town under the command of General Kean, which, with the assistance of Admiral Cochrane, was disembarked without resistance on the 23rd December. On the 25th, General Sir Edward Pakenham arrived and assumed the chief command. On the 27th, the enemy’s picquets were driven in within six miles of the town, where their main body was found most strongly posted, and supported by a ship of war moored in such a position as to enfilade the assailants. The result was that the assault of the British was delivered under so withering a fire from every part of the enemy’s line, that General Pakenham was killed, Generals Keane and Gibbs wounded, while over 2,000 men and officers were killed, wounded, or made prisoners. Colonel Thornton, indeed, had crossed the river during the previous night and captured a flanking battery of the Americans on the other side; but the report made by him to General Lambert was of so discouraging a character that he decided not to persevere with the attempt, and in the end the whole army re-embarked, leaving a few of the most dangerously wounded behind them, but carrying off all their artillery, ammunition, and stores. The concluding operation of the war was the capture of Fort Mobile, which surrendered to the British on the 11th of February.

A remarkable figure puts in an appearance in the caricatures of 1815.
Romeo Coates. the early part of the century. This was the renowned “Romeo” Coates, a vain, weak-minded gentleman, who had an absolute passion for figuring on the boards as Romeo, Lothario, Belcour, and other romantic characters, for which his personal appearance and lack of brains altogether unfitted him. His “readings,” like himself, being of the most original character, his vagaries afforded endless amusement to the coarse public of his day. The gods befooled him “to the top of his bent;” his overweening vanity failing to show the poor creature that he was exciting ridicule instead of applause. The fun (?) culminated in the tragic scene, Romeo, to their delight, responding to the encores of his audience, by repeating the dying scene so long as it suited the managers to prolong the sorry exhibition. Macready, whose dramatic genius and refined sensibilities revolted at a spectacle so degrading, describes him as he appeared at Bath, in 1815: “I was at the theatre,” says the tragedian, “on the morning of his rehearsal, and introduced to him. At night the house was too crowded to afford me a place in front, and seeing me behind the scenes, he asked me, knowing I acted Belcour, to prompt him if he should be ‘out,’ which he very much feared. The audience were in convulsions at his absurdities, and in the scene with Miss Rusport, being really ‘out,’ I gave him a line which Belcour has to speak, ‘I never looked so like a fool in all my life,’ which, as he delivered it, was greeted with a roar of laughter. He was ‘out’ again, and I gave him again the same line, which, again being repeated, was acquiesced in with a louder roar. Being ‘out’ again, I administered him the third time the same truth for him to utter, but he seemed alive to its application, rejoining in some dudgeon, ’I have said that twice already.’ His exhibition was a complete burlesque of the comedy and a reflection on the character of a management that could profit by such discreditable expedients.” Poor “Romeo” Coates lived to get over his theatrical weakness, and died (in 1848), in his seventy-sixth year, from the results of a street accident.

The Princess Charlotte of Wales, having successfully thrown over 1816.
Marriage of the Princess Charlotte. her royal Dutch suitor, was married at Carlton House to Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, afterwards King of the Belgians, on the 2nd of May, 1816. Prior to the marriage, Parliament had voted a provision for an establishment for the pair of £60,000, while in the event of the princess’s death, £50,000 was settled on the prince during his life. Leap Year, or John Bull’s Establishment (S. W. Fores, March, 1816) shows us John Bull with a bit in his mouth, driven by Her Royal Highness, who lashes him unmercifully with a tremendous horse-whip. Miserable John is saddled with a pair of panniers, one of which carries the prince and his money bags, the other being filled with heavy packages labelled with different impositions or items of expenditure of which John is the victim. “Plans for thatched cottages,” “Plan for pulling down and rebuilding,” “Assessed taxes,” “Increase of salaries,” “Army for peace establishment,” and so on. Says Leopold to the princess, “You drive so fast, I shall be off!!!” “Never fear,” she replies; “I’ll teach you an English waltz.” The gouty Regent hobbles after them on his crutches, the supports of which are formed of dragons from his famous Brighton Pavilion. “Push on!” he shouts to his daughter and future son-in-law, “Push on! Preach economy! and when you have got your money, follow my example.” “Oh! my back,” groans poor John, crawling with the greatest difficulty under the weight of his heavy burdens. “I never can bear it! This will finish me.”

The two years which succeeded the fall of Bonaparte were remarkable for the distress which prevailed amongst the industrial classes in England. The glory we had reaped in our long struggle with France was forgotten in the consideration of the almost insupportable burdens which it necessarily entailed. The sufferings Popular Discontent. of the masses prompted them to seek relief by bringing their grievances before Parliament; but the reception their petitions met with, served only to show the little sympathy which existed between the national representatives, as then elected, and the people of England. Petitions were next presented to the Regent himself, while the popular discontent found expression in large meetings convened in London, Leeds, Manchester, Birmingham, and other industrial centres. These meetings, it was observed, were convened, attended, and addressed almost exclusively by the working classes, the middle and upper ranks taking no share in the proceedings. The speakers pointed out in impressive and forcible language the various evils which they said had brought about their altered condition; the waste of public money in perpetual wars, in unearned pensions, sinecures, and other unjust expenditure. The high price of provisions provoked riots at Brandon, Norwich, Newcastle, Ely, Glasgow, Preston, Leicester, Merthyr, Tredegar, and other places; a large number of the populace assembled in Spafields in December to receive the Regent’s answer to their petition. While waiting the arrival of “orator” Hunt, one of the most popular of the agitators of the day, a band of desperadoes appeared on the scene with a tri-coloured flag, and headed by a man named Watson, who, after delivering a violent harangue from a waggon, led them into the city. The rioters pillaged several gunsmiths’ shops, but the prompt action of Lord Mayor Wood, the strong party of constables at his back, who seized several of the rioters, and the appearance on the scene of the military, soon induced the rioters to disperse. In January, 1817, John Cashman, one of the Spafields rioters, was tried for burglariously entering the shop of Mr. Beckworth, a gunsmith, and hanged opposite the scene of his depredations.

The Regent opened Parliament on the 28th of January, 1817. 1817.
Regent opens Parliament. In his address, he said that “the distress consequent upon the termination of a war of such universal extent and duration, had been felt with greater or less severity throughout all the nations of Europe, and had been considerably aggravated by the unfavourable state of the season.” Alluding to the proceedings of the popular agitators, he added: “In considering our internal situation, you will, I doubt not, feel a just indignation at the attempts which have been made to take advantage of the distresses of the country, for the purpose of exciting a spirit of sedition and violence.... I am determined to omit no precautions for preserving the public peace, and for counteracting the designs of the disaffected.” Whether this statement was the cause or not, the Regent had a narrow escape on his return from the House; for, while passing at the back of the gardens of Carlton House, the glass of his window was broken, either by a stone or (as was supposed) by two balls from an air-gun, which appeared to have been aimed at His Royal Highness.

On the 6th of February, Lord Cockrane presented to the House of Commons the petition of the Spafields meeting, signed by 24,000 persons. It prayed for annual parliaments, universal suffrage, and reduction in the public expenditure. He presented at the same time a petition from Manchester, signed by 30,000 persons, praying for reform in Parliament and economy in the public expenditure. Sir Francis Burdett also presented a Leeds petition for the same objects, containing 7,000 signatures. These were of course only legitimate modes of expressing the wants of the people; but, unhappily, quite independent of the action of the popular leaders, the country in some parts was so disturbed, so closely on the brink of insurrection, that ministers found themselves obliged twice during the course of the year to resort to the almost unprecedented measure of suspending the Habeas Corpus Act, on the first occasion at the end of February, and on the second in June.

At a meeting held at Manchester in March, for the purpose of petitioning the Regent against the suspension of the Act, it was proposed and agreed that another meeting should be held on the following Monday (the 10th of March), with the professed intention that ten out of every twenty persons who attended it should proceed to London with a petition to His Royal Highness. The meeting took place accordingly; many thousands actually attended in full marching order (i.e. provided with a bundle and a blanket); and a considerable body appear to have made some advance on their way before their further progress was arrested. Expeditions of a similar character were simultaneously planned, attempted, and frustrated in other parts of the country.

Meanwhile, there were trials for high treason at Westminster Government Spies. Hall; trials of rioters at York and Derby; and at the latter town, on the 7th of November, three miserable men were hung. Among the witnesses at these trials appear to have been two men named Castle and Oliver: and it came out that these fellows, with two other Government spies, named Edwards and Franklin, had been among the chief fomenters by speeches and writings of the seditions in the Metropolis and northern counties. The disclosures made by these scoundrels produced of course a great sensation and numerous satires. One of these, entitled, More Plots!!! More Plots!!! published by Fores in August, 1817, is “dedicated to the inventors, Lord S [idmouth] and Lord C [astlereagh].” It is divided into four compartments. In the first we see four foxes (typifying no doubt the four informers) watching the movements of a flock of geese. “’Tis plain,” says one of the former, “there is a plot on foot; let’s seize them, Brother Oliver.” “I have no doubt of it: I can smell it plainly,” answers his companion. In the second, a couple of fierce nondescript beasts are regarding a number of innocent lambs: “These bloodthirsty wretches,” remarks one of the two, “mean to destroy man, woman, and child, I know it to a certainty; for they carry sedition, privy conspiracy, and rebellion in their looks.” “And I’ll swear it, Brother Castle,” says his companion; “let’s dash at them.” In the third, a cat watches the movements of some unsuspecting mice: “There’s a pretty collection of rogues gathered together,” observes Grimalkin; “if there is not a plot among them, burn my tail and whiskers.” In the last, we behold a Kite just about to pounce on some chicken: “The world’s over-run with iniquity,” says the bird of prey; “and these troublesome miscreants will not let honest hawks sleep in security.” We shall return to the subject of these Government spies and the troubles of 1817 in the graphic satires of George Cruikshank.

In 1817, the rivalry between the two national theatres ran so Edmund Kean and Booth. high, that the Covent Garden management employed agents to scour the provinces in search of a rival to Edmund Kean at Drury Lane. After a time one was found in the person of Lucius Junius Booth, who in stature, rôle of characters, and (as it was imagined) style of acting, closely resembled, if he did not equal, the great original. He made his début at Covent Garden, in the character of Richard the Third. Whether it was a success or not seems doubtful; for the manager being out of town, those deputed to act as deputies did not care to undertake the responsibility of engaging the new star. In this dilemma, overtures were made to him by the rival house, which he accepted, and made his appearance as “Iago” to Kean’s “Othello” to a densely-packed audience at Drury Lane. So great was the likeness between the two actors, that strangers were puzzled to know which was Kean and which was Booth, until the tragedy reached the third act, when the genius of Kean made itself felt, and no doubt remained in the minds of the audience which was master of his art.

Booth, in fact, discovered that he had made a mistake, and the day after his trial at old Drury, signed articles to return to Covent Garden for three years. Here he proved a great attraction; he must have been in truth an actor of no ordinary merit; his rendering of the character of Lear, in particular, met with universal approbation, and in this tragedy he was supported by actors of the ability of Charles Kemble and William Macready, both of whom he threw into the shade. At the end, however, of his engagement, feeling that he was incapable of meeting Kean on anything like equal terms, he set sail for America.

The appearance of Edmund Kean and Lucius Junius Booth at Drury Lane is referred to in a satire entitled, The Rival Richards, published by S. W. Fores in 1817. The sketch (evidently the work of an amateur) shows us Folly seated on an ass, holding in one hand a pair of scales, in one of which stands Booth, and in the other Edmund Kean. To the mind of the satirist there appears to be no difference in the abilities of the two performers, as the scales exactly balance. On the right, the portico of Covent Garden is overshadowed by the inelegant but massive proportions of Drury Lane; the intervening space being occupied by various figures and details, among which is a “patent clapping machine.” An advertisement board carried by one of the figures clearly shows that the satire—an elaborate idea badly worked out—has reference to the period when both actors were engaged at “old Drury.”

Undoubtedly the most important event of the year 1818 was the 1818.
Evacuation of France. congress of the allied sovereigns at Aix-la-Chapelle, and the evacuation of France which followed. By the second treaty of Paris, the stay of the occupying armies had been fixed at a period of five years; but by an official note, dated the 4th of November, 1818, the ministers of Austria, Great Britain, Russia, and Prussia, referring to the engagements entered into by the French Government with the subscribing powers to that treaty, stated that such Government had fulfilled all the clauses of the treaty, and proposed, “with respect to those clauses, the fulfilment of which was reserved for more remote periods, arrangements which were satisfactory” to the contracting parties. Under these circumstances the sovereigns resolved that the military occupation of France should forthwith be discontinued.

On the 7th of November, the Duke of Wellington, commander-in-chief of the army of occupation, issued an order of the day, taking leave of the troops under his command, which concluded in the following terms:—

“It is with regret that the general has seen the moment arrive when the dissolution of this army was to put an end to his public connections and his private relations with the commanders and other officers of the corps of the army. The field marshal deeply feels how agreeable these relations have been to him. He begs the generals commanding in chief to receive and make known to the troops under their orders, the assurance that he shall never cease to take the most lively interest in everything that may concern them; and that the remembrance of the three years during which he has had the honour to be at their head, will be always dear to him.”

Wellington appears to have received particular marks of distinction from the Emperor Alexander; but what may have been the particular tittle tattle which led up to the caricature we shall next describe, we are now unable to fathom. That it grew out of the event which we have attempted to describe will be sufficiently obvious. It is entitled, A Russian Dandy at Home; a scene at Aix-la-Chapelle, and was published by Fores in December, 1818. In it, the satirist shows us the Duke arrayed in the regimentals of a Russian general, part of which comprise a pair of jack-boots considerably too large for him, a fact which amuses the Emperor and certain English and Cossack officers at his back. The following doggerel appended to the satire affords an explanation of its meaning:—

A well-drawn caricature, published by Fores in February, 1818, Queen Charlotte. and entitled, A Peep at the Pump Room, or the Zomersetshire Folks in a Maze, shows us a singularly ugly old woman habited in a wonderful bonnet, and clothes of antiquated make and fashion, drinking the Bath waters in the midst of a circle of deeply interested and curious gazers. This poor old woman, who looks very like an old nurse, is no less a person than Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Queen of George the Third, who, in failing health and rapidly drawing towards the close of her earthly pilgrimage, had been recommended by her physicians to try the effect of the Bath waters. The excitement which this event occasioned in the then gay, but now decayed western city, is thus referred to by Mrs. Piozzi in two of her contemporary letters to Sir James Fellowes: “The queen has driven us all distracted; such a bustle Bath never witnessed before. She drinks at the Pump Room, purposes going to say her prayers at the Abbey Church, and a box is making up for her at the theatre.” And again: “Of the clusters in the Pump Room who swarm round Queen Charlotte, as if she were actually the queen bee, courtiers must give you an account.” At the back of Her Majesty’s chair stands the portly figure of the Duke of Clarence, who recommends the old lady to qualify the water (which is evidently very distasteful to her) with a little brandy. “George and I,” he adds, “always recommend brandy.” A fat, well favoured woman in a flower-pot bonnet, with a gin bottle in her hand, on the other hand recommends the old queen to qualify the Bath water with a dash of “Old Tom,” advice which is seconded by the old woman next her. Behind this last stands the physician, watch in hand, watching, and moreover predicting in very plain terms, the expected action of the medicated water. The folks behind make their observations on the old lady’s appearance. “Well, I declare,” says one, “I see nothing extraordinary to look at.” “Why, she doant look a bit better than oul granny,” remarks a country joskin. “Who said she did, eh, dame?” replies her companion. Poor old Queen Charlotte was never a beauty, and those who remember her exaggerated likenesses in the satires of Gillray, will not fail to recognise her in the present satire. One of her well-known habits is referred to by the snuff-box which lies at her feet.

The poor old lady was beyond the help of the Bath waters or of any earthly assistance. We find Mrs. Piozzi writing a few months later on: “Nothing kills the queen, however. It is really a great misfortune to be kept panting for breath so, and screaming with pain by medical skill: were she a subject, I suppose they would have released her long ago; but diseases and distresses of the human frame must lead to death at length,” which was the case with the poor old queen, who died nine months after the date of the satire (in November, 1818).

The announcement of the marriages of four of her children this year, viz.: of the Princess Elizabeth to Frederick, Landgrave of Hesse Homburg; of Edward Augustus, Duke of Kent, to Victoria, daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg (and mother of Queen Victoria), on the 29th of May; of Adolphus Frederick, Duke of Cambridge, to Augusta, daughter of the Landgrave of Hesse, on the 1st of May; and of William Henry, Duke of Clarence (afterwards William the Fourth), to Adelaide, daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, on the 11th of July, gave rise to a coarse though admirably executed caricature entitled, The Homburg Waltz, with Characteristic Sketches of Family Dancing, in which all these royal personages, with the Regent at their head, are seen prominently figuring amongst the dancers.

A forgotten but ingenious instrument, the kaleidoscope, was Invention of the Kaleidoscope. invented by Sir David Brewster in 1818. The leading principles of the toy appear to have been accidentally discovered in the course of a series of experiments on the polarization of light by successive reflections between plates of glass. The invention of this now despised toy made a tremendous sensation at the time, and the inventor was induced to take out a patent for its protection; but he had, it appears, divulged the secret of its construction before he had secured the invention to himself, and the consequence was that, although “it made a hundred shopmen rich,” it brought the inventor himself but little substantial benefit. This is explained by the fact that it was so simple in construction, that even when made without scientific accuracy, it served to delight as well as to amuse. So largely was it pirated, that it was calculated that no fewer than two hundred thousand were sold in three months in London and Paris alone. Judging by a caricature of Williams’s, published by Fores in June, 1818, and its doggerel explanation, the toys would appear even at this time to have been made and sold by every street boy. The satire is called, Caleidoscopes, or Paying for Peeping. In it, we see the pertinacious vendors pushing the sale of their wares upon the passengers in the streets—many of them women. A bishop resolves to buy one because the coloured glass reminds him of a painted window in his cathedral, another person has paid dearly for “peeping,” and discovers that while gratifying his curiosity, his “pocket-book has slipped off with two hundred pounds in it.” Williams was a satirist of the old school, and the allusions made by some of the vendors render this otherwise interesting satire wantonly coarse and indelicate. Attached to this rare and curious production is the following doggerel:—

Another invention made its appearance in 1819: this was the 1819.
The Hobby. velocipede, or as it was then called “the hobby,” the grandfather of the bicycle and tricycle of our day. A tall gawky perched on the summit of a lofty bicycle, with an enormous wheel gyrating between a couple of spindle shanks capped with enormous crab-shells, is a sufficiently familiar and ridiculous object in our times; but the appearance presented by the people of 1819, who adopted the spider looking thing called a “hobby,” was so intensely comical that it gave rise to a perfect flood of caricatures. The best of these we have personally met with is one entitled, The Spirit Moving the Quakers upon Worldly Vanities, a skit upon the Society of Friends (published by J. T. Sidebotham). The scene is laid in front of a “Society of Friends Meeting House,” and numerous “Friends” of both sexes are busily engaged in exercising their hobbies. In the foreground, a broad-brimmed young “Friend” gives ardent and amorous chase to a lovely Quakeress, who, apparently disinclined to encourage his advances, urges her steed to its utmost speed, and makes frantic endeavours to get out of his way.

The internal condition of the country this year (1819) gave cause Depression in Trade. for much anxiety. Pecuniary distress, owing to the depression in trade, was almost universal. This state of things, as might have been expected, was taken advantage of by the popular agitators for their own purposes; and the people, under their encouragement, as in the two previous years, continued to give audible expression to their dissatisfaction at meetings, and through the medium of publications more or less of a seditious character. The miserable outlook gave rise (among others) to a pair of caricatures, published by Fores on the 9th of January, John Bull in Clover, and (by way of contrast), John Bull Done Over. In the first, fat John is enjoying himself with his pipe and his glass; the sleek condition of his dog shows that it shares in the comforts of its master’s prosperity. John, in fact, has what our Transatlantic cousins call “a good time;” scattered over the floor lie invoices of goods despatched by him to customers in Spain, in Russia, in America. Beneath a portrait of “Good Queen Bess,” John has pinned several of his favourite ballads: “The Land we live in,” “Oh, the Roast Beef of Old England!” “May we all live the days of our life.” In John Bull Done Over, a very different picture is presented to our notice. The whole of John’s fat is gone; he sits, a lean, starving, tattered, shoeless object in a bottomless chair, the embodiment of human misery. In place of his invoices lie the Gazette, which announces his bankruptcy, and a number of tradesmen’s bills; on the back of his chair is coiled a rope, and on the table before him a razor lies on a treatise on suicide,—John in fact is debating by what mode he shall put an end to his existence. An onion and some water in a broken jug are the only articles of sustenance he has to depend on. The tax gatherer, who has made a number of fruitless calls, looks through the broken panes to ascertain if John is really “at home.” On the wall, in place of the picture of “Good Queen Bess,” hangs a portrait of John Bellingham, the assassin of Spencer Perceval; and in lieu of his once joyous ballads, such doleful ditties as “Oh, dear, what can the matter be!” “There’s nae luck about the house,” and so on. The poor dog, grown like his master a lean and pitiable object, vainly appeals to him for food.

“England’s hope”[21]—the darling of the nation—the amiable and interesting Princess Charlotte, whose loss is still lamented after the lapse of more than half a century, died in childbirth on the 6th of November, 1817; but on the 24th of May, 1819, was born, at Kensington Palace, another amiable and august princess, whose life has been most happily spared to us—her present Majesty Queen Victoria. To show that the influence of the last century caricaturists had not yet left us, this auspicious event immediately gave rise to a coarse caricature,[22] published by Fores, and labelled, A Scene in the New Farce called the Rivals, or a Visit to the Heir Presumptive, in which the scurrilous satirist depicts the supposed mortification and jealousy of other members of the royal family. Her Majesty’s father, the Duke of Kent, died nine months afterwards, on the 23rd of January, 1820.

[18] The new Alhambra.

[19] A caricature entitled Doctors Differ, according to Mr. Grego (published in 1785) is due to Rowlandson. It is possible, therefore, that the present one, although not in Rowlandson’s style, may be a reproduction.

[20] This admirable satire appears to me very like the handiwork of George Cruikshank; but not being able positively to identify it, I have given it its place in this chapter.

[21] See the caricatures of George Cruikshank, 1817.

[22] Apparently by Williams.