Mythology._ The modern Hercules, wrapped round with his lion's skin,
is making use of a monster measure, _Whitbread's Entire_, with the
contents of which he is freely deluging the St. Stephen's stables. The
abbot of St. Stephen's, with mitre and crozier, ensconced in his niche,
is in consternation at the work going on. The horses are all standing
with their heads turned to their stalls, and their hoofs to the
purifier. Dundas (Lord Melville) is kicking with energy, crying 'What
the Deel is the man aboot?' Wilberforce's 'Broom for the suppression
of Vice' is between his legs, and before him is a huge private chest
for stray provender, with money bags outside. Trotter stands next; he
cries, 'Attack the Gallopers! I am only a poor Trotter.' Pitt, a very
bony steed, is crying, 'I am afraid we shall all be drenched in turn;'
and a crowd of others are thrown into confusion at their prospects,
saying, 'Who could have expected this?' Against the wall are stalls
stored with money-bags from end to end: 'Navy Stall,' 'Army Stall,'
'Treasury Stall,' &c.

_April 23, 1805._ _The Fifth Clause, or Effect of Example._ Published
by T. Rowlandson.

_April 28, 1805._ _A Scotch Sarcophagus._ Published by T. Rowlandson,
Adelphi.--The Sarcophagus is of handsome design; two cherubims, in
Scotch bonnets, surmount the lid; two devils, evidently much shocked,
appear on the sides. Two Highlanders, in full kilt and tartan dresses,
are standing as mourners, one is leaning weeping with his elbow on the
urn, the other is seeking comfort in his snuff mull.

                     _Stop, Traveller, and read._

                              Within this
                             Sarcophagus,
                      composed of Scotch pebbles,
                are deposited the political remains of
                            JOHNNY MAC-CREE
                       and his faithful servant
                              JOHN TROTT.

              In respect to the former, suffice it to say
          that he was a strenuous friend to all Reports that
           reverberated to his advantage, whether proceeding
              from a first rate or a Catamaran Explosion.

           At length a Tenth Report, aided by an obstruction
           in the Thorax from the fifth clause, finished his
                           Political Career.

                        Mourn, Scotsmen, Mourn!
            For though he was a swift galloper on the high
             road of Peculation, yet his friend John, who
            lies beside him, was only his inferior in being
                but a simple Trotter, in the grand and
                    Sublime scale marked out by his
                           Worthy Preceptor.

          They took their departure on Monday, April 8, 1805.

                    Peace to their Political Manes!

_May 15, 1805._ _John Bull's Turnpike Gate._--On a hill is an abbey
church, lighted up with the glory of 'King, Church, and Constitution.'
John Bull, standing before his turnpike, is guarding the pathway; on a
ledge beside the post is placed a formidable work, the _Test Oath_. The
Pope, with mitre, crozier, and hood, is mounted on his pontifical ass.
'Mr. Bull,' he says, 'I have been to Paris and seen all the fine sights
there. I now want to have a peep at that little church on the hill,
therefore let me pass the turnpike.' J. B. replies: 'If you want to go
through pay the toll; what the devil do you think I keep a turnpike
gate for?'

A crowd of dissenters, quakers, &c., in the Pope's rear, are anxious
to enjoy the opportunity: 'Though I boast not gaudy trappings,' says a
quaker, 'nor am I mounted on ass-back, yet if he goeth through, verily
I should like to go through also!' 'Verily so should I!' 'We should all
like to go through!'

_May 25, 1805._ _A Sailor's Will._ Woodward inv., Rowlandson sculp.
Published by R. Ackermann.

_July 8, 1805._ _The Scotch Ostrich seeking Cover._--'In the natural
history of the ostrich it has been observed that when the bird is
closely pursued he runs his head and neck into a hole, leaving his
hinder parts exposed; concluding no doubt that, as he sees no one, no
one sees him!'

Dundas has thrust his head through a hole in the wall labelled
_Parliamentary Recess_, he cries, 'Ah! ah! nae one sees me now!'
John Bull with his blunderbuss, and his brother Pat by his side, are
watching the Scotchman's manoeuvre. 'Be asy, brother Pat, I see him
as plain as ever. I have plenty of ammunition left, but I shan't fire
just at present.' This print is founded on the inquiries into Lord
Melville's conduct when Treasurer of the Navy.

_July 14, 1805._ _Recovery of a Dormant Title, or a Breeches-Maker
become a Lord._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.
Republished July 14, 1812.--The features of a sudden rise in life form
humorous materials in the hands of the caricaturist. The lately created
nobleman, a coarse and common clothier, is swaggering in all his new
finery, to give his past associates a taste of his new-found honours.
His showy court dress is assumed with awkward pretension; he wears a
ribbon and star and a dress sword; none of these decorations harmonise
with the wearer, who is so evidently out of place in his fine feathers,
that the journeymen tailors and cobblers, his neighbours and recent
comrades, are jeering at his burlesque dignity; his lady dressed in
unbecoming finery, and carrying a large plume of feathers on her head,
looks no less 'out of character' than does her tailoring spouse. The
shop, over which appears, _Stitchall, Whitechapel, Breeches cleaned and
repaired_, once the pride of the pair, is now closed. A placard states:
'The goodwill of this shop to be sold, removed to Grosvenor Square;'
while an old Jewess, part of the establishment, probably the ancestress
of one of the pair, is trying her hardest, on the top of some steps, to
wipe out the offensive name of the ex-proprietor.

_July 14, 1805._ _Antiquarians à la Grecque._ Published by R.
Ackermann.

_October 1, 1805._ _The Departure from the Coast, or the end of
the Farce of Invasion._ Published by Ackermann.--On the heights of
the English coast stands the British Lion, contemptuously pouring
a broadside into the retreating invader; the British cruisers are
sweeping the seas. The Emperor, seated on a donkey, is limping off,
to the delight of some French monkeys. The national prototype's
contributions, in the shape of a shower of shot, have capsized the
iron crown of Milan. 'Bless me, what a shower! I shall be wet through
before I reach the Rhine.' The Emperor and his steed are overloaded
with sacks of _Excuses for non-performance_. _The Boulogne Encampment_
and _The Army of England_ fill his pockets, while files of soldiers are
indicated above.

_October 2, 1805._ _John Bull at the Opera._ Published by T.
Rowlandson.--It is a matter of no surprise to find Rowlandson, who,
in spite of his acquaintance with the Continent, was as thoroughly
confirmed a John Bull as his illustrious predecessor Hogarth,
ridiculing the tastes of the fashionable public, who patronised and
petted exotic artists, to the neglect of native talent. Like the rest
of the caricaturists, he traded on the national spirit, and held up
foreigners to contempt and ridicule; with a happy faculty for seizing
their grotesque points, their loose ways of life, and their love of
finery and display, which has not, we will venture to believe, been
excelled in any day. It is natural the school-fellow, fellow-student
at the Academy, and familiar intimate through life, of such a talented
English performer as Bannister, should have resented the artificial
taste which heaped wealth on comparatively obscure aliens, with whose
art plain John Bull could have slight sympathy, while the most rarely
gifted of his countrymen were left to struggle through life without a
due acknowledgment, in a pecuniary sense, proportioned to the extent of
their merits, as contrasted with the abilities of their foreign rivals,
and the fabulous salaries they received. The designer has accordingly
displayed the signor from a whimsical point of view; the face of the
performer is suggestive of that of the good-looking youth, the leading
figure in the eccentric humours of an _Italian Family_ (1792); it was
probably a portrait recognisable at the period. Certainly John Bull, in
the artist's view, does not appear much at home at the Italian Opera;
the spectators are divided between gigglers and gapers, and on the
whole it is doubtful if their imported entertainer affords his audience
the unequivocal enjoyment they would have been able to secure at the
hands of 'honest Jack Bannister,' and native performers of his stamp.

[Illustration: JOHN BULL AT THE ITALIAN OPERA.]

_October 30, 1805._ _Raising the Wind._

_November 13, 1805._ _Napoleon Buonaparte in a Fever, on Receiving the
extraordinary Gazette of Nelson's Victory over the Combined Fleets._
Published by Ackermann.--The Emperor, in his huge cocked hat, is
seriously indisposed, after reading the extraordinary gazette: '19
sail of the line taken by Lord Nelson.' Beside the Corsican is a group
of court physicians in consternation: 'My dear Doctors! those sacré
Anglois have played the devil with my constitution; pray tell me what
is the matter with me. I felt the first symptoms when I told General
Mack I wanted ships, colonies, and commerce. Oh dear! oh dear! I
shall want more ships now; this is a cursed sensation. Oh, I am very
qualmish!' 'Be-gar,' cries the first physician, 'I have found it out.
Your heart be in your breeches!' Another doctor is observing that 'the
case is desperate;' another recommends 'letting blood;' while others
have, after a consultation, arrived at the conclusion--'Irrevocable.'

[Illustration: A BOARDING SCHOOL.]

1805. _A Boarding School._--The droll scene our artist has
imagined,--for it is to be hoped, in the interests of educational
establishments and social decorum, that he was not in the situation
to draw the incidents from actual observation,--is transpiring on the
outside of a Young Ladies' Seminary, where maidens are 'boarded and
educated,' and their minds trained. According to the notice-board,
there seems no reason to question this being a 'finishing school'
in the fullest acceptation of the expression. 'The young ideas' are
shooting in a precocious fashion which is setting the restraint of the
governesses at defiance. Certain well-favoured young house painters
are inciting the mischievous hoydens to disregard the injunctions of
their preceptresses. A daring scamp is stealing a kiss from a buxom
belle, over the eaves of the adjoining house, and three terrible young
flirts are exchanging pleasantries with a youth on a ladder, who is
stopping the torrent of menace, poured forth by the mistress, by
bedaubing his whitewash brush in the learned features of the infuriated
old lady. It is evidently early morning, before the customary studies
have commenced.

1805. _Glowworms._ (See July, 1812.)

1805. _Muckworms._

1805. Illustrations to _Tom Jones, or the History of a Foundling_.
Book 7, chap. 14.--'The clock had now struck twelve, and every one in
the house were in their beds, except the sentinel who stood to guard
Northerton, when Jones softly opening his door, issued forth in pursuit
of his enemy, of whose place of confinement he had received a perfect
description from the drawer. It is not easy to conceive a much more
tremendous figure than he now exhibited. He had on, as we have said,
a light coloured coat, covered with streams of blood. His face, which
missed that very blood, as well as twenty ounces more drawn from him by
the surgeon, was pallid. Round his head was a quantity of bandages, not
unlike a turban. In the right hand he carried a sword, and in the left
a candle. So that the bloody Banquo was not worthy to be compared to
him. In fact, I believe a more dreadful apparition was never raised in
a churchyard, nor in the imagination of any good people met in a winter
evening over a Christmas fire in Somersetshire.

'When the sentinel first saw our hero approach, his hair began gently
to lift up his grenadier cap, and in the same instant his knees fell to
blows with each other. Presently his whole body was seized with worse
than an ague fit. He then fired his piece, and fell flat on his face.

'Whether fear or courage was the occasion of his firing, or whether he
took aim at the object of his terror, I cannot say. If he did, however,
he had the good fortune to miss his man.

'Jones seeing the fellow fall, guessed the cause of his fright, at
which he could not forbear smiling, not in the least reflecting on the
danger from which he had just escaped. He then passed by the fellow,
who still continued in the posture in which he fell.... The report of
the firelock alarmed the whole house....

'Before Jones could reach the door of his chamber, the hall where the
sentinel had been posted was half full of people, some in their shirts,
and others not half dressed, all very earnestly inquiring of each other
what was the matter.

'The soldier was now found lying in the same place and posture in which
we just now left him. Several immediately applied themselves to raise
him, and some concluded him dead; but they presently saw their mistake,
for he not only struggled with those who laid their hands on him, but
fell a roaring like a bull. In reality he imagined so many spirits or
devils were handling him; for his imagination, being possessed with the
horror of an apparition, converted every object he saw or felt into
nothing but ghosts and spectres.

'At length he was overpowered by numbers, and got upon his legs; when
candles being brought, and seeing two or three of his comrades present,
he came a little to himself; but when they asked him what was the
matter, he answered, "I am a dead man, that's all; I am a dead man; I
can't recover it; I have seen him."'

'"What hast thou seen, Jack?" says one of the soldiers. "Why, I have
seen the young volunteer that was killed yesterday."'

[Illustration: THE SENTINEL MISTAKES TOM JONES FOR AN APPARITION.]

Illustrations to Fielding's _Tom Jones_ (See 1791). 1791-93. Published
by J. Siebbald, Edinburgh. 1805. Republished by Longman & Co., London.

Illustrations to Smollett's _Peregrine Pickle_. 1791-93. Published by
J. Siebbald, Edinburgh. 1805. Republished by Longman & Co., London.
Etched by Rowlandson.

_Clearing a Wreck on the North Coast of Cornwall._ Sketched in 1805.
Rowlandson del.

_View on Sir John Moreshead's Estate at Blisland near Bodmin,
Cornwall._ Rowlandson del.

_View near Bridport, Dorsetshire._ 1805.

_Rouler Moor, Cornwall._

_Coast of Cornwall_, &c. (A series of views in Cornwall, Devon, Dorset,
&c.)

1806.

[Illustration: THE GERMAN WALTZ.]

'_The Sorrows of Werther._' _Letter X._ _The Waltz with
Charlotte._--'We began; and at first amused ourselves with making every
possible turn with our arms. How graceful and animated all her motions!
When the waltz commenced, all the couples which were turning round at
first jostled against each other. We very judiciously kept aloof till
the awkward and clumsy had withdrawn; when we joined in there were but
two couples left. I never in my life was so active; I was more than
mortal. To fly with her like the wind, and lose sight of every other
object! But I own to you I then determined, that the woman I loved,
and to whom I had pretensions, should never do the waltz with any other
man. You will understand this.'

_April 3, 1806._ _An Evergreen._--An extravagantly elongated figure,
treated so as to suggest a trimmed shrub, and coloured green. There
is much in the execution of this folio strip to suggest the hand of
Rowlandson. Published by Fores.

_April 20, 1806._ _A Cake in Danger._

    Careful observers, studious of the Town,
    Shun the misfortunes that disgrace the clown.--GAY'S _Trivia_.

It is night, or rather early morning, and the watchman, staff in hand,
leaning forward in his box, in a state of semi-consciousness, more
asleep than awake, does not observe that under the shelter of his house
a deed of spoliation is proceeding. A simple countryman has fallen into
the clutches of two fair members of the 'Hundreds of Drury,' and, while
they are tenderly embracing the yokel, the contents of his pockets are
being transferred to their own keeping.

1806 (?). _A Select Vestry._

1806 (?). _A Country Club._

_April 16, 1806._ _The Political Hydra._ (Wigstead.) Originally
published December 26, 1788. See description (1788). Reissued with
fresh date.

_April 18, 1806._ _Falstaff and his Followers Vindicating the Property
Tax._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi. Fox is
travestied under the portly figure of Falstaff; Sheridan, Petty, and
other Ministers do duty as his followers. The unwieldy knight is
standing in the presence of John Bull, and pointing to a huge pack,
'Ten per cent, on John Bull's property,' which is to be fitted to the
national back. 'Mercy on us, how you must be all changed in your way of
thinking! When Billy proposed the same thing, one of you said it was
a most flagrant instance of injustice and inequality; another that it
was abominable in principle and in its operation, not only cruel but
intolerable; and another went so far as to say that if I sanctioned it
I was not a person for any honest man to be acquainted with. What have
you to say for yourselves?'

Falstaff has a plausible explanation at the service of his employer:
'You cannot blame us, Master Bull, we did not make it, or steal it; it
lay in our way, and we found it!'

_May 1, 1806._ _A Maiden Aunt smelling Fire._ Published by T.
Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.

              Old Maids are doomed to lead Apes in Hell.

An old Tabitha, who is appropriately surrounded by her feline friends,
has been disturbed from her slumbers by various suspicious nocturnal
sounds, and has appeared, candle in hand, and in a very incomplete
toilette, to fathom the mystery, of the source of which she has
evidently some shrewd suspicion; since she is hastening to the first
floor to her niece's apartment. Above the balustrade stands the guilty
damsel, who has had sufficient warning, as her lover, carrying his
garments in his hand, for expedition, is making his way from the
niece's room under the cover of an ambuscade; while the lady is leaning
over the staircase railings, with an air of startled innocence assumed
to carry off the _contretemps_.

_May, 1806_. _Recruiting on a Broad-Bottom'd Principle._ Published by
T. Blacklock, 92 Royal Exchange.--Grenville, Fox, and their colleagues,
are out on a recruiting expedition, to enlist volunteers for their new
service. Lord Grenville, as the recruiting sergeant, is haranguing
the bystanders; his followers are rather of the tatterdemalion order:
they wear the red caps of Liberty, and the revolutionary cockades,
they are out-at-elbows and shoeless. Sheridan is waving the colours
inscribed 'God save the King! No Jacobins!' Fox is drummer, Lord
Derby is fifer; 'Now my brave fellows, now is the time to make your
fortunes and show your loyalty, all on a Broad-Bottom'd principle: we
don't value _candle-ends_ and _cheese-parings_, not we! All lives,
and fortune-soldiers to a man. We'll make our enemies tremble; we are
the boys to _wind_ 'em; now is your time, my lads; the bed of Honour
is a bed of Down.' A dog, the _Member for Barkshire_ according to his
collar, is bow-wowing the sergeant's address; one of the audience, with
a paper, _Bed of Roses_ (to which the ministerial condition had been
likened by Lord Castlereagh), in his pocket, is half decided to join
their standard: 'I don't like a bed of Down, I would rather it was a
_Bed of Roses_: however I have a great mind to enter notwithstanding,
there is nothing like having two strings to one's bow.'

George the Third is peeping through his spyglass; he is not very clear
as to the actual motives of the party: 'What, what! my sergeant and
drummer beating up for volunteers; that's right, that's right, get as
many as you can!'

_May 4, 1806._ _Daniel Lambert, the wonderful great Pumpkin of Little
Britain._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The famous Leicester
giant, or rather fat man, Daniel Lambert, was the object of fashionable
curiosity at this date. The worthy and good-natured-looking monster's
figure is set forth at full, and justice is done to his corpulence. A
tailor and his journeyman are between them vainly trying to stretch
their measuring tape round the colossal girth; a fairly conditioned
man-cook has just brought in a noble rib of beef for the regalement of
the giant. Three modishly dressed persons of quality, who have come to
admire the huge proportions of Daniel Lambert, are contrasting their
own meagre condition of genteel slimness with his excessive plumpness.
A notice sets forth, 'Agricultural society for the improvement of fat
cattle. Leicestershire Ram'; and a placard advertises, 'The powers of
Roast Beef, or the Leicestershire Apollo, now in full bloom; no blemish
whatever on any part of his body. Thirty-six years of age. Weighs
upwards of 50 stone, 14 lbs. to the stone, or 700 lbs. Measures 3 yds.
4 inches round the body, and 1 yard 1 inch round the leg; is five feet
eleven inches in height. Admission only one shilling. Laugh and grow
fat.'[5]

_May 31, 1806._ _A Diving Machine on a New Construction._ Published
by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--The unpopular increase
of Taxation, levied under the Broad-bottom'd auspices, was severely
dealt with by the satirists. In the present version, the Ministers
are represented as the crew of a diving-barge, _The Experiment_. Fox
is the diver, and a noble wreck, the 'Constitution cutter, John Bull
commander,' has gone down to the bottom of the 'Ocean of Taxation.' Her
commander is done for; amidst the spoils of the shipwreck, the Diver
(Fox) is securing certain weighty additions to his treasury: pig-iron,
Beer Tax, and heavy chests, '10 per cent.' are among the spoils. A rope
is secured to the ponderous Property Tax; Fox is giving the word to
'Haul up;' Petty, Sheridan and others are hauling away at the ropes;
their lighter is nearly filled with the precious wreckage they have
been able to secure.

_June 20, 1806._ _The Acquittal, or upsetting the Porter Pot._
Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--Lord Melville and
his counsel are exulting over the results of his acquittal by his peers
of the charge of investing the public funds for his personal advantage,
as far as the interest was concerned, a perquisite previously allowed
to the Treasurer of the Navy. When Lord Melville, then Henry Dundas,
filled the post of Treasurer to the Navy, he brought in an act for
the better regulation of that office, making such employment of the
funds in hand a misdemeanour; Whitbread, (at the head of the advanced
Liberals, or 'Radical Reformers,' who began to make his party dreaded
as formidable opponents of the old-fashioned Whig section, from which
his supporters had receded), and Wilberforce, as the enemy of all
corruptions, were the principal movers of Melville's impeachment, for
the alleged breach of his own act.

The two Scots, Melville and Trotter, who are dressed in Highland
garb, are embracing fraternally; at the same time, Melville is giving
a sly backward kick to a huge pewter pot, bearing the face of the
disconcerted mover of the charges. _Whitbread's Entire Butt_ is knocked
over, its contents _Impeachments_, _High Crimes_, _Misdemeanours_,
and _Peculation_, are flowing away unheeded; 'What is life without a
friend?' cries the ex-Minister on his acquittal; his counsel, Trotter,
is assuring his relieved patron, 'I'll _trot_ for you! I'll gallop for
you all over the globe. O happy day for Scotland! and see how pleased
John Bull looks--ah Johnny, Johnny, this is indeed a glorious triumph.'
But Mr. Bull declines to be soft-sawdered: his face is wearing anything
but a satisfied expression; he significantly keeps his hands in his
pockets, and is grumbling, 'I say nothing,' as if he could say a great
deal if he were disposed to express his honest opinion of the entire
transaction.

_July 21, 1806._ _Experiments at Dover, or Master Charleys Magic
Lantern._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--The
repeated delays to the preliminaries for peace, and the various
manoeuvres of Buonaparte's government, which protracted the issue of
Fox's policy, led to a feeling out-of-doors that the Minister was not
dealing straightforwardly with the public; that dissimulation was
thrown into their eyes like dust; and that the Whig chief was deluding
his followers for some reasons of his own; meanwhile the Corsican
Emperor was carrying forward plans for fresh aggressions unchecked.

Fox, in the print, has settled himself comfortably at Dover; with a
magic lantern to work his delusions, he is throwing painted images
across the Channel, which are reflected on the cliffs of Calais.
The figure of Napoleon is seen sounding a news-horn, announcing
'Preliminaries of Peace'; Fox's slide contains other views, which have
to follow, for the further perplexity of the honest spectator: 'More
despatches,' 'Messenger to Paris,' 'Messenger from Boulogne,' &c. The
Showman is trying to reassure his friend, 'There, Master Bull, what
do you think of that? I told you I would surprise you--"Preliminaries
of Peace," 'Huzza!' John Bull, who is standing unconvinced behind
Fox's chair, replies: 'Yes, yes, it be all very foine, if it be true.
But I can't forget that d----d Omnium last week; they be always one
way or other in contradictions! I will tell thee what, Charley, since
thee hast become a great man, I think in my heart thee beest always
conjuring.'

_June, 1806._ _Butterfly Hunting._ Published by Wm. Holland, 11
Cockspur Street.--A collision between the pursuits of rival enthusiasts
is pictured under the title of 'Butterfly Hunting.' Nothing can
stop the fervour of the butterfly collectors in their chase of the
sportive prey, wantonly flitting all over the flower-beds, and leading
the excited entomologists a pretty dance, carrying destruction to
the parterres, and ruination to the tulips, of which the proprietor
of the house and grounds is, it appears, a passionate fancier. The
havoc, which is spreading over the beds of his favourites, is reducing
him to frenzy; as he is awakened from his rest, and surveys from his
bedroom-window the field of action, the only wonder is, if he has a
loaded gun ready at hand, that he is not tempted to salute the reckless
spoilers with a volley.

[Illustration: BUTTERFLY-HUNTING.]

1806. _A Prize Fight._

1806 (?). _Anything will do for an Officer._--The caricature of a
pigmy and misshapen sample of humanity, dressed as an officer, with an
enormous cocked hat, worn on one side of his battered and lined old
face; a long pigtail projects over his high shoulders; he swaggers with
one hand on his hip, and the other on the head of a tasseled cane,
which is nearly as tall as the hero himself; his shrunken spindle
legs are thrust into huge boots, and his tremendous sword, which is
longer than the wearer, is trailing on the ground. The argument is not
complimentary to commanders in general: 'Some school-boys, who were
playing at soldiers, found one of their number so ill-made and so
undersized that he would have disfigured the whole body if put into
the ranks. "What shall we do with him?" asked one, "Do with him?" says
another, "why make an officer of him!"'

[Illustration: A PRIZE FIGHT.]

1806. _View of the Interior of Simon Ward, alias St. Brewer's Church,
Cornwall._--A quaint delineation of a church-interior during service;
the pastor, who is somewhat of the Dr. Syntax type, is holding forth.
There is a squire's pew, a rosy, sleepy clerk, a large leavening
of fat slumberers (among the rest the sexton and pew-opener), a
crowded gallery, worshippers both devout and careless, gazers through
curiosity, and the usual elements which made up a grotesque-looking
country congregation at the end of the last century.

1806. _A Monkey Merchant._

FOOTNOTE:

[5] The advice offered in the concluding line of Daniel Lambert's
advertisement must, however, be followed with certain reserve. The
Leicester giant's premature end is hardly an encouragement to would-be
imitators. After his first visit to London, in 1806, Daniel Lambert
returned to his native place; the year following he repeated his visit,
but feeling oppressed by the atmosphere of the metropolis, he made
a tour through the principal provincial cities and towns, where he
proved a great source of attraction. We are told 'his diet was plain,
and the quantity moderate, and for many years he never drank anything
stronger than water. His countenance was manly and intelligent; he
possessed great information, much ready politeness, and conversed with
ease and facility. He had a powerful and melodious tenor voice, and his
articulation was perfectly clear and unembarrassed.... Lambert had,
however, for some time shown dropsical symptoms. In June, 1809, he was
weighed at Huntingdon, and, by the Caledonian balance, was found to
be 52 stone 11 lb.; 10 stone 4 lb. heavier than Bright, the miller of
Maiden, who only lived to the age of thirty.'

A few days after this last weight was taken, on June 20, Lambert
arrived from Huntingdon at the Wagon and Horses Inn, St. Martin's,
Stamford, where preparations were made to receive company the next day
and during the Stamford races. He was announced for exhibition; he
gave his orders cheerfully, without any presentiment that they were
to be his last. He was then in bed, only fatigued from his journey,
but anxious to see company early in the morning. Before nine o'clock,
however, the day following, he was a corpse! He died in his apartment
on the ground-floor of the inn, for he had long been incapable of
walking up stairs. As may be supposed from his immense bulk and weight,
his interment was an arduous labour. His age was thirty-nine. At the
Wagon and Horses Inn were preserved two suits of Lambert's clothes;
seven ordinary-sized men were repeatedly enclosed within his waistcoat,
without breaking a stitch or straining a button.

1807.

_February 1, 1807._ _Miseries of London. Going out to dinner (already
too late) your carriage delayed by a jam of coaches, which choke up the
whole street, and allow you an hour or more than you require to sharpen
your wits for table talk._ Published by Ackermann, 101 Strand.

    Breast against breast, with ruinous assault
    And deafening shock they come.

_February 3, 1807._ _The Captain's Account-current of Charge and
Discharge._ Published by Giles Grinagain, 7 Artillery Street,
London.--A pair of plates connected with some militia or yeomanry
satire of the period: the scene of the captain's misadventure is
evidently a cathedral town, but the interest of the print is not
sufficiently strong to make any elucidation of the facts of the case of
much importance. The captain is mounted on a spirited charger; he is
losing his seat; several whips and his sabre have fallen, and the rider
is holding on precariously by his horse's mane. Professor Gambado's
famous tract, _Hints to Bad Horsemen_, is thrown on the ground. The
members of the troop, galloping in the rear, are enjoying their
leader's mishap, and saying, 'Our young whip is not an old jockey.' The
captain cries, 'March! trot! canter! charge! halt, halt, halt! I mean;'
while candid confessions burst forth spontaneously from the trumpet at
his side. 'Avarice, vanity! oh what a ninny I was to throw myself off!
they're laughing at me!' while hypocrisy, ingratitude, double-dealing,
false friendship, malice, &c., are trumpeted forth.

In the second plate the rider has come to grief; the horse is prancing
gaily, relieved of his rider; the animal is addressing a parting remark
to the discharged captain: 'You seem more frightened than hurt. You
have been taught the value of whips more than the use of them.'

A hussar has recovered the trumpet; he stoops over to the fallen
captain, who is rubbing the seat of his injuries: 'I hope your honour
is not hurt,' to which the fallen leader replies, 'I am not hurt, upon
my honour!' The troopers are riding gaily on, exclaiming, 'Why, our
captain needn't a fallen!'

[Illustration: MISERIES OF LONDON.]

_February 15, 1807._ _Miseries of Travelling; an Overloaded Coach._
Published by R. Ackermann.

_February 18, 1807._ _At Home and Abroad._--A domestic interior; the
servant is leaving the room with a warming-pan, and a lady, of the
developed 'fat, fair, and forty' order, is preparing to go to bed; the
partner of her joys, who is more youthful, has dropped his pipe and
is sipping a bumper of wine; but, although evidently sleepy, he seems
disinclined to follow the lady's example of retiring to rest.

_February 18, 1807._ _Abroad and at Home_ is a complete contrast to
the previous subject.--A handsome-looking man is reclining on a couch
before the fire; on the table by his side are fruit and wine, on his
knee there dallies an elegant creature; the lady's maid is figured in
the background, regaling herself with drops on the sly.

_February 26, 1807._ _Mrs. Showwell, the Woman who shows General
Guise's Collection of Pictures at Oxford._ Etched and published by T.
Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--This, like the companion print,
bears the initials J. N. Esq. (John Nixon), 1807, but the style of
execution is in Rowlandson's marked manner. Mrs. Showwell is a dwarfed,
quaint old woman, of good-natured appearance, wearing a cap and hood;
she is pointing out the excellences of a collection of old masters with
a wand, and in her other hand is held the key of the gallery.[6]

_March 1, 1807._ _The Enraged Vicar._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1
James Street, Adelphi.--

    To see them rattle, howl, and tear,
    By Jove, 'twould make a parson swear,

A subject of wanton destruction, which forms a fitting companion to
the invasion of the tulip-fancier's flower-beds by irrepressible
butterfly-collectors, was published the year following, as _The Enraged
Vicar_. In this case the horticultural tastes of the reverend gentleman
have led him to turn the grounds of the vicarage into a picture of
the most unvarying precision: clipped hedges, chopped borders of box,
with yew-trees and evergreens, carved into wonderful imitations of
impossible objects, form the passion of his heart. A hunted fox is
darting through these wonderful works of art; the hounds are breaking
over everything, and the whole field of fox-hunters are riding through
the Vicar's boundaries, and pounding their horses over his cherished
monstrosities. Judging from the frantic state of the dignitary, the
reverse of benedictions seem likely to be invoked upon the heads of the
intruders, who are wrecking the results of any amount of misdirected
patience 'in less than no time.'

[Illustration: THE ENRAGED VICAR.]

_April 18, 1807._ _All the Talents._ Published by Stockdale, Pall Mall.

[Illustration: ALL THE TALENTS.]

       Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum.

The complex nature of the famous Broad-Bottom Administration, known
as 'All the Talents,' is set forth in an allegorical representation,
which is supposed to include the several qualifications of the vaunted
_illuminés_. It may be remembered that this Ministry, which came into
power under Liberal and popular auspices, retired on the rejection of
their favourite measure, Catholic Emancipation, which they were pledged
to introduce. The King, and his friends, the remnant of the Pittites,
made a desperate stand against this measure, and the consequence of its
defeat was the immediate withdrawal of 'All the Talents' from office.
As embodied by Rowlandson's pencil, the combination of heterogeneous
elements produced a curious monster: the wig of a learned judge is worn
on the head of a spectacled ape, with an episcopal mitre and a Catholic
crosier; a lawyer's bands, a laced coat, and ragged breeches; wearing
one shoe, and a French jackboot; and dancing upon a funeral pyre of
papers, the results of the Administration, its endless negotiations
with France, and its sinecures and patronages, which are blazing away.
The creature's right foot is discharging a musket, to represent the
'Army,' which is producing certain mischief in the rear, and bringing
two heavy folios, _Magna Charta_ and the _Coronation Oath_ upon the
head of the dangerous animal. The left hand, holding a pen upside-down,
is supposed to be compounding new financial projects, in a ledger laid
over a music book, 'Country dances,' an allusion to the alleged dancing
proclivities of Lord Henry Petty, the Broad-Bottomite Chancellor of the
Exchequer.

The smoke, from the pipe of this _lusus Naturæ_, is obscuring the
portrait of William Pitt. The end of 'All the Talents,' who sacrificed
their influence from conscientious motives, and whose upright
principles were beyond suspicion, was a great source of triumph to
their opponents, who signalised their retirement with a volley of
satirical effusions. The 'Interment of the Broad-Bottomite Ministry'
produced a shower of political squibs and caricatures; and among the
best verses on the occasion, appeared the following mocking epitaph,
which has been attributed to the gifted pen of Canning, who came into
office on the dismissal of 'All the Talents.'

    When the Broad-Bottomed junto, all nonsense and strife,
    Resigned, with a groan, its political life;
    When converted to Rome, and of honesty tired,
    It to Satan gave back what himself had inspired;

    The Demon of Faction, that over them hung,
    In accents of anguish their epitaph sung;
    While Pride and Venality joined in the stave,
    And canting Democracy wept on the grave.

    Here lies, in the tomb that we hollowed for Pitt,
    The conscience of Grenville, of Temple the wit;
    Of Sidmouth the firmness, the temper of Grey,
    And Treasurer Sheridan's promise to pay.

    Here Petty's finance, from the evils to come,
    With Fitzpatrick's sobriety creeps to the tomb;
    And Chancellor Ego, now left in the lurch,
    Neither laughs at the law nor cuts jokes at the Church.

    Then huzza for the party that here's laid to rest--
    'All the Talents,' but self-praising blockheads at best:
    Though they sleep in oblivion, they've died with the hope,
    At the last day of freedom, to rise with the Pope.

[Illustration: A NINCOMPOOP, OR HEN-PECKED HUSBAND.]

_April 24, 1807._ _A Nincompoop, or Hen-peck'd Husband._ Published by
T. Tegg, Cheapside (147).--It is supposed to be the day of rest and
ease, and comfortable cits are taking their summer outings to suburban
resorts. A buxom city wife is sailing along with an air like a tragedy
queen, fanning herself as she walks. Her better half, a miserable
being reduced to abject servitude, is bearing a bundle, a shawl, a
pair of pattens, and an umbrella, objects to serve in the train of his
mistress's grandeur; the poor 'nincompoop' is vainly turning his eyes
up Heavenwards: no miracle is vouchsafed to free him from his bondage.
Other stout promenaders are bursting with indignation at the weakness
of this lord of creation, while they walk in the other extreme, and
leave their better halves to drag along both children and baggage in
their wake. Certain tired pedestrians are enjoying the reward of their
exertions, while partaking of cool pipes and tankards, at the '_Old
Swan Inn, Ordinary on Sundays_,' whither the parties have evidently
proceeded to dine.

_April 26, 1807._ _John Rosedale, Mariner._ _Exhibitor at the Hall of
Greenwich Hospital._ Etched and published by T. Rowlandson.--Like the
companion print, _Mrs. Showwell_ (Feb. 26), the sketch is signed with
the initials J. N. Esq. The old sailor Cicerone, who has a pigtail,
and wears a long square-cut coat of naval blue, with gold buttons and
lace, is pointing out with a cane the mysteries of certain allegorical
compositions to the gaping spectators:--

'Here is George, Prince of Denmark, and in the perspective a view of
St. Paul's, London, Sir James Thornhill in the wig, &c. &c.'

_May 1, 1807._ _The Pilgrims and the Peas._ Woodward del., Rowlandson
sc. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside. One of a series of headings
to songs, ballads, &c., published by T. Tegg.--In the illustration
to Peter Pindar's Apologue of _The Pilgrims and the Peas_, the
disconsolate sinner, with hard peas in his shoes, is crawling along,
doubled up with agony, to the shrine at Loretto, meeting halfway the
joyful pilgrim, who has accomplished his penance, 'whitewashed his
soul,' and returned from his journey without personal inconvenience, by
the exercise of the simplest precaution, as he confesses:--

    To walk a little more at ease,
    I took the liberty to boil my peas!

_May 3, 1807._ _Scenes at Brighton, or the Miseries of Human Life._
Published by A. Berigo, 38 Maiden Lane, Covent Garden.

_Plate 1._ Beauty, Music, a few thousands, and opportunity given
by card tables, often feather the adventurer and prove an easy
introduction to the Miseries of Human Life.

_Plate 2._ Jealousy, rage, disappointment, intrigue, and laughter are
here pretty much exemplified, and afford an old Lover a high-seasoned
taste of the Miseries of Human Life.

_May 6, 1807._ _Monastic Fare._

    And why I'm so plump, the reason I'll tell,
    Who leads a good life is sure to live well,
    What Baron, or Squire, or Knight of the Shire
    Lives half so well as a Holy Friar?

[Illustration: MONASTIC FARE.]

_May 6, 1807._ _Black, Brown, and Fair._ Designed by Sir E. Bunbury.
Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--An illustration
to the lines:--

    With Black, Brown, and Fair, I have frolic'd 'tis true,
    But I never lov'd any, dear Mary, but you.

At the window of a tavern, at Wapping 'Dock Head,' is a bevy of
beauties, representing the variations of complexion described by
the song-writer. The redundant charms of this collection of beauties
are arresting an equally diversified circle of admirers, numbering
mulattos, a Chinaman, a Holland skipper, a foreign Jew, and a Virginia
nigger.

_May 6, 1807._ _The Holy Friar._ Designed by Sir E. Bunbury.
Rowlandson, sculp.

    I am a Friar of orders Grey,
    And down the valleys I take my way.
    I pull not Blackberry, Haw, or Hip;
    Good store of ven'son does fill my scrip.
    My long Bead-roll I merrily chaunt,
    Wherever I walk no money I want;
    And why I'm so plump, the reason I'll tell,
    Who leads a good life is sure to live well;
    What Baron, or Squire, or Knight of the Shire
    Lives half so well as a Holy Friar?

    After supper of Heav'n I dream,
    But that is fat pullets and clouted cream;
    Myself by denial I mortify,
    With a dainty bit of a Warden pie.
    I'm cloth'd in sackcloth for my sin,
    With old Sack wine I'm lin'd within,
    A chirping cup is my Matin song,
    And the vesper's bell is my bowl--ding dong!
    What Baron, or Squire, or Knight of the Shire
    Lives half so well as a Holy Friar?

[Illustration: THE HOLY FRIAR.]

_May 16, 1807._ _I Smell a Rat, or a Rogue in Grain._ Published
by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand. An exuberant rustic charmer has been
entertaining a fashionable visitor in a granary; a party of rustics,
mounting the ladder, have disturbed the interview. A powdered,
pig-tailed, and lace-ruffled dandy has sought concealment amidst the
sacks of grain; his head appears over the barrier in sheer dismay,
for a determined farm help, probably the legitimate swain of the
indignant damsel, armed with a formidable pitchfork, is making reckless
efforts to impale the trespasser; his fury is slightly restrained by
the stalwart exertions of the lady, who has buried her fingers in the
village Othello's shock head of hair; at his feet is a scroll with the
quotation 'I smell a rat, dead for a ducat.' A bill, pinned on the
wall, sets forth 'Rats, pole cats, and all sorts of vermin effectively
destroyed.'

_May 17, 1807._ _The Old Man of the Sea, sticking to the Shoulders
of Sindbad the Sailor._ Vide _The Arabian Nights Entertainments_.
Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--The dandified Sir Francis Burdett
is figured as a discontented Sindbad the Sailor; his preceptor John
Horne Tooke, in his clerical garments, is perched on his pupil's
shoulders, and he is driving him through _The Mire of Politics_, in
which he is wading knee-deep. In the distance is shown the baronet's
mansion, _Independence and a comfortable home_. From an upper window a
lady is waving back the traveller, who does not relish turning his back
on this prospect to encounter the _Ministerial Shoals_ and _Treasury
Rocks_ which are opposed to his progress on the other side. Horne Tooke
is urging on the career of his _protégé_: 'Persevere! persevere! you
are the only man to get through.' Burdett's confidence is wavering:
'This old man will be the end of me at last; what a miry place he has
brought me into!'

_May 25, 1807._ _A White Sergeant giving the Word of Command: 'Why
don't you come to bed, you drunken sot?'_ Published by R. Ackermann,
101 Strand.--A man, past the meridian of life, is calmly enjoying his
pipe before his fire, with an agreeable book in his hand, '_Rule a wife
and have a wife_.' The young wife is indignantly rating the easy-going
husband on his inclination to prefer the fireside to his conjugal couch.

_May 29, 1807._ _Comedy in the Country, Tragedy in London._ Published
by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--_Comedy in the Country_ is played in a
barnlike building to an audience of rustics, whose faces express the
most intense appreciation. _Tragedy in London_, as performed in a
fashionable theatre, has plunged a very select audience into the depths
of grief and misery: tears bedew every cheek, and even the members of
the orchestra are weeping profusely.

_May 30, 1807._ _Platonic Love._ '_None but the Brave deserve the
Fair._' Sir E. Bunbury del., Rowlandson sculp.--An illustration to
the lines in Othello wherein Desdemona's wooing is described. A
veteran commander, who has lost an arm and both legs, is acting on
the advice of his fair, who is tenderly embracing his wooden leg.
Although the name of Rowlandson is appended to this plate, the method
of its execution bears a closer resemblance to the handling of C. W.
(Williams).

_June 12, 1807._ _Miseries Personal._ Published by Ackermann, 101
Strand. 'After dinner, when the ladies retire with you from a party
of very pleasant men, having to entertain as you can half a score of
empty or formal females; then after a decent time has elapsed, and your
patience and topics are equally exhausted, ringing for the tea, &c.,
which you sit making in despair for above two hours, having three or
four times sent word to the gentlemen that it is ready, and overheard
your husband, at the last message, answer, "Very well, another bottle
of wine." By the time the tea and coffee are quite cold, they arrive,
continuing as they enter, and for an hour afterwards, their political
disputes, occasionally suspended by the master of the house by a
reasonable complaint to his lady at the coldness of the coffee; soon
after the carriages are announced and the company disperse.'

[Illustration: MISERIES PERSONAL.]

_June 15, 1807._ _Murphy Delaney._ Woodward del., Rowlandson
sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--This caricature is an
illustration to the song which is printed below it. It happened to the
hero, Murphy Delaney, to find himself, when 'fresh as a shamrock and
blind as a bull' from the effects of imbibing a 'skinful of whiskey,'
by the side of the quay, which he mistook for the floor of his shed,
'And the keel of a coal-barge he just tumbled over, and thought all
the while he was going to bed.' When his body was recovered from the
river an inquest was duly held to determine the cause of his end,
during which the subject of the deliberation revived, and appeared as a
witness; but his testimony being declined, on the ground of his recent
decease, the jury appealed to the doctor, who swore that, as Delaney
was 'something alive,' it 'must be his ghost. So they sent out of hand
for the clergy to lay him, but Pat laid the clergy, and then ran away.'

_June 18, 1807._ _A View on the Banks of the Thames._ (No. 177.)
Published by T. Tegg. (See illustration, p. 77.)

[Illustration: A VIEW ON THE BANKS OF THE THAMES.]

_July 1, 1807._ _More Scotchmen, or Johnny Maccree Opening his New
Budget._--Lord Melville, on the strength of his re-instalment, has
extended his patronage to a swarm of his countrymen; he is dressed in
Highland garb, and is opening the mouth of his sack, from whence is
issuing an interminable stream of Scotchmen, who are trooping steadily
on the road to fortune, through the portals of St. Stephens. 'There
ye are, my bonny lads, mak the best o' your way, the door is open,
and leave a Scotsman alaine to stick in a place gin he once gains an
entrance.' John Bull, who is standing aside, quite overpowered by the
spectacle of this Caledonian incursion, is exclaiming: 'Dang it, what
a swarm of them there be--enough to cause a famine in any Christian
country!'

_July 9, 1807._ _A Cure for Lying and a Bad Memory._ Woodward del.,
Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--A wag at one
of the universities has applied to an empiric, on a visit to the
neighbourhood, for a cure, as a proof of his skill, for a propensity
to tell lies, and a memory which retained no recollection of what
its possessor had stated last. In the picture the quack has just
administered his _Pillula Memoria_ and _Anti Fibbibus_; the incautious
would-be waggish student is very uncomfortable, and declares he has
taken _Asafoetida_. 'You speak the truth,' says the doctor, 'you are
perfectly cured; and as to your memory, that cure follows of course,
for I am sure you will never forget the medicine!'

_July 10, 1807._ _The Double Disaster, or New Cure for Love._
Rowlandson del. et sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--This
sketch, which is characterised by the artist's usual spirit when
dealing with kindred subjects, represents the situation of a rustic
swain, whose philanderings have landed him in the midst of the
perplexities of a double dilemma. It is seemingly 'washing day,' and
the gallant intruder has effected his admission to court the graces
of a pretty maiden, who is thrown into consternation at the risk to
which her suitor, by an awkward _contretemps_, is suddenly exposed. The
pair have evidently been disturbed at the moment the lady was engaged
in drawing a mug of ale for the refreshment of her admirer; in the
confusion, the tap of the beer barrel is still left running, and all
the maid's solicitude is centred in the position of her swain, who has
incautiously taken refuge in the copper. A very disagreeable-looking
old beldame is kindling a blazing fire in the stove, while a buxom
wench is working away at the pump, which is pouring gallons of water
into the unlucky Lothario's place of concealment. The youth is
hesitating midway between the ordeals of fire or water, and he is
struggling to effect his escape from both, at the risk of exposure and
its consequences.

_July 14, 1807._ _Easter Hunt._ _Clearing a Fence._ (_Easter Monday, or
the Cockney Hunt._)

1807. _Miseries of the Country._ 'While on a visit to the hundreds of
Essex, being under the necessity of getting dead drunk every day to
save your life.'

              Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas....

The hundreds of Essex, it appears from the print, which represents a
bacchanalian sporting revel, were doubtless attractive to fox-hunters;
but the hospitalities exercised therein were rather excessive. The
usual accompaniments of a drunken bout of the period are set forth
with Rowlandson's graphic skill; an old toper is draining a punch-bowl
and capsizing himself simultaneously; an ambitious young reveller is
tipsily trying to mount the table, and over-balancing himself in the
attempt; a stout divine is indisposed in a corner; heavy drinkers laid
low are on the floor, whence they are dragged off by their heels, and
carried to bed in an incapable and collapsed condition. Furniture is
knocked over, and chimney ornaments sent to grief. It is an anniversary
meeting of choice spirits.

_October 5, 1807._ _A Mistake at Newmarket, or Sport and Piety._
Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111
Cheapside.--A good pious old soul, wearing a hood, red cloak, clean
apron, and pattens, and carrying Wesley's hymns in her hand, is
interrogating certain sporting characters, who are lounging at the door
of the _Ram Inn_. 'Pray, young man,' she enquires of a smart young
jockey, 'are there any _meetings_ in this town?' To which the jockey
replies, 'Yes, ma'am, two a year--Spring and October!'

1807(?) _Englishman at Paris._ H. Bunbury invt., Rowlandson sculp.--Our
old friend John Bull is shown, with his travelling accompaniments,
philosophically pursuing his quiet way in the land of the 'Monsieurs.'
He is the centre of curiosity, though, according to the artist's
picture, he is the least remarkable object in the group. A corpulent
friar is observing the well-rounded person of the stranger with an
appreciative eye; while a lean cook, in wooden shoes, is staring with
astonishment at the goodly proportions of the Englishman. A French
_petit-maître_ is driving a ramshackle contrivance, and his queerly
clad servant is perched on the springs behind. A female luggage porter
is plodding along, and an adventitious shower, directed from a balcony
above, is descending on the umbrella of a dandified pedestrian,
daintily mincing along on tiptoe, who, at first glance, might be taken
for a live Marquis, if, on inspection, his apron and the professional
implements peeping out of his coat-tail, did not proclaim him a barber.
John Bull's substantially built dog is eyeing a sniffing French hound
with threatening suspicion.

[Illustration: ENGLISHMAN AT PARIS.]

1807(?) _Symptoms of Restiveness._ H. Bunbury del., Rowlandson
sculp.--Henry Bunbury, it will be observed, was remarkably fond of
drawing disasters in the saddle; his brother, the respected Sir Charles
Bunbury, was, for many years, president of the Jockey Club, in which
difficult position he rigorously upheld the integrity of the turf; and
there is no doubt that the originator of 'Geoffrey Gambado, Esq.,' and
of those invaluable precepts on equitation published and illustrated as
alleged by the eminent _Riding Master of the Horse and Grand Equerry
to the Doge of Venice_ (about the only potentate who could not find
a turnpike-road within his capital), must have had 'a good eye for a
horse.'

The Symptoms of Restiveness are of a somewhat marked and unmistakable
character: while one sportsman's steed is kneeling down on his
forelegs, and turning the huntsman heels over head, another cavalier's
animal is standing rigidly on his forelegs, and perseveringly
attempting to dislodge his mount by kicking out wildly behind. A
third rider is no less fortunate in his hack, which has 'no mouth,'
and is moreover a 'bolter'; the animal is steadily plunging through
everything in its way, apparently unconscious of the desperate efforts
his master is making to hold him in. An old woman, with her barrow
and its contents, are tumbled over, without attracting the attention
of the wrong-headed brute, whose mind is absorbed in his own private
speculations.

[Illustration: SYMPTOMS OF RESTIVENESS.]

1807 (?) _A Calf's Pluck._ Designed by H. Bunbury. Etched by T.
Rowlandson.

[Illustration: A CALF'S PLUCK.]

1807 (?) _Rusty Bacon._ Designed by H. Bunbury. Etched by T. Rowlandson.

[Illustration: RUSTY BACON.]

1807 (?) _A Tour to the Lakes._--

    Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round,
    Through all its various paths hath been,
    Must oft have wondered to have found
    His warmest welcome at an Inn.

A clerical traveller has arrived, late at night, at an hostel; a
pretty chamber-maid is showing the reverend visitor to his room,
bearing a lighted candle, a warming-pan, and the saddle-bags of the
guest, who appears well pleased with his conductress, and is imparting
his admiration. As it appears that this gentleman is inclined to be
less respectable than his venerated calling should suggest, it is
less scandalising to observe that various practical jokes of a rough
character are besetting his path; consequently, it is highly probable
that he will receive an active moral lesson before he reaches his
chamber.

_November 9, 1807._ _Thomas Simmons, drawn from Life by Mr. Angelo._
Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi. 'The horrid and
inhuman murderer of Mrs. Hammerstone and Mrs. Warner at the house of
Mr. Boreham, a Quaker at Hoddesdon, in Herts, on Tuesday evening,
October 20, 1807.'--The barbarous murderer does not rejoice in a
very formidable exterior. His weakly person has been sketched by the
hand of Henry Angelo, the well-known fencing-master, a firm friend
of Rowlandson through life. His amusing _Memoirs_ have supplied us
with many circumstances relating to the caricaturist. It appears that
Angelo, Bannister, and Rowlandson were schoolfellows at an early period
of life, and they were all as youths excessively fond of their pencils;
although it was reserved for Rowlandson alone to attain proficiency in
the fine arts. Angelo, like George Selwyn, Colonel Hanger, and some
few notorieties, was fond of attending executions, visiting jails,
and similar lugubrious exhibitions. Among his visits to prisons he
encountered some curious characters. Thomas Simmons, the subject of
the present plate, was one of the unfortunates with whom he became
acquainted on one of these eccentric excursions.

From the sketch, Thomas Simmons appears a mere dwarf of a man, a
harmless-looking and apparently half-witted individual, realising the
traditional idea of _Simple Simon_. This murderer has heavy manacles
round his puny limbs. Groups of miserable prisoners, and hard-featured
jailors are in the rear, and the heavy iron doors of Newgate afford an
appropriate background.

_November 10, 1807._ _Directions to Footmen._ Rowlandson del. Published
by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside (273).--'Take off the largest dishes, and
set them on with one hand, to show the ladies your vigour and strength
of back, but always do it between two ladies, that if the dish happens
to slip, the soup or sauce may fall on their clothes, and not daub the
floor; by this practice, two of our brethren, my worthy friends, got
considerable fortunes.'--A stalwart awkward-looking yokel, in a showy
livery, is carrying out these useful directions to the letter. While
grinning at his horrified mistress, he is upsetting a tureen held
loosely in his right hand, over a handsome damsel, and is flooding the
table-cloth, to the horror of the company, and the delight of a poodle,
which is revelling in the stream. In the clumsy footman's left hand is
held a dish, from which he is calmly allowing the joint, gravy, &c.,
to glide over the back of another dog who is less pleased than his
companion.

_November 10, 1807._ _John Bull making Observations on the Coast._
Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111
Cheapside.--The head of George the Third, as the sun, is throwing its
brilliant rays across the Channel, and shining on the British Fleet
which lines the waters. The head of Napoleon Buonaparte, with his
cocked hat and feather, is represented as a comet with a fiery train,
which is making vicious exertions to dash itself across the orb of day.
John Bull has planted his telescope on the shores of the Channel, and
his eye is following the course of the erratic meteor: 'Ay, ay, Master
Comet, you may attempt your peri-heliums, or your devil-heliums for
what I care, but take the word of an old man, you'll never reach the
sun, depend upon it.'

_November 20, 1807._ _A Couple of Antiquities._ Published by R.
Ackermann.

_November 20, 1807._ _My Aunt and My Uncle._ Published by R. Ackermann.

_November 21, 1807._ _The Dog and the Devil._ Woodward del., Rowlandson
sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--The interior of a
conjurer's chamber, decorated with the usual paraphernalia of bats,
stuffed crocodiles, &c. The empiric wears his learned robes and fur
cap; in the centre of a magic circle stands the pretended enchanter's
assistant, dressed in a bullock's hide, with the horns and tail left
on, to personate the Father of Evil; a butcher, in his working dress,
has called to consult the oracle concerning a missing sheep; he has
brought his bull-dog with him, unobserved by the demonstrator, and
the animal, true to his instincts, has pinned the mock demon-bull by
the nose; 'the pretended devil roar'd most tremendously; but the dog
kept a firm hold. The conjurer, rising in a passion, exclaimed, "You
scoundrel, take off your dog!" The butcher, however, perceiving the
cheat, cried out, "Not I, doctor, I know he is of as good a breed as
ever bolted, so let 'em fight fair; if you are not afraid of your
devil, I am not afraid of my dog; so dog against devil for what sum you
please!"' The fictitious demon is in bad case.

1807 (?). _More Miseries, or the Bottom of Mr. Figg's Old Whiskey
broke through._--A serio-comic scene that befel the 'grocer's wife at
Norwich, owing to the bottom of Mr. Figg's whiskey breaking through.'
The flooring of a vehicle something like a phaeton has proved too
slight for a ponderous occupant: the lady's ample proportions are
framed in the chaise, to the alarm of her husband, who is seizing the
prancing horse. Certain gazers, hugely delighted, are hastening up not
to lose the spectacle of the lady's awkward situation.

1807 (?). _The Man of Feeling._--The scene takes place in a
sky-parlour, and the principal performer is a son of the Church.

1807 (?). _Miseries of Bathing._ 'After bathing in the river, on
returning to the bank for your clothes, finding that a passing thief
has taken a sudden fancy to the cut of every article of your dress.'

1807 (?). _The Pleasures of Human Life._ By Hilari Benevolus & Co.
Published by Longmans, 1807. Crown 8vo. _Pleasures of Human Life_, in
a dozen dissertations, interspersed with various anecdotes, _Pleasures
of Fashion_, _Fashionable People_, _Market of Love_, _Greeks_,
_Literature_, _Hints to Print Collectors_, _Puffing_, etc., coloured by
Rowlandson.

FOOTNOTE:

[6] Francisco Caracci, and General Guise's collection (_Somerset-House
Gazette_), from a note to Mr. Ephraim Hardcastle (Editor):--'Francisco
Caracci was the younger brother of Augustino and Annibale; and
Antonio, called from his deformity Il Gobbo, was the natural son of
Augustino. These were the individuals who formed that celebrated
family of painters. The father of Ludovico Caracci was a butcher
(_era macelago_), and the father of Annibale and Augustino a tailor.
Annibale resolved to mortify the pride of Ludovico, who despised him
on account of his frequently reminding him of their low origin. He
therefore privately painted the portraits of the Caracci, as large as
life, in a butcher's shop, and showed his picture for the first time to
Ludovico, when in company with Cardinal Farnese. It is now in the Guise
collection, at Christ Church College, Oxford. Annibale is the butcher
weighing the meat, which a soldier (Ludovico) is purchasing. Augustino
stands near them. Antonio is lifting down a carcase, which conceals his
deformity; and the old woman represents their mother. General Guise is
said to have given 1,100_l._ for this picture, which was purchased for
him at Venice. Talking of Oxford, did you ever see this collection? If
the old General Guise had no more taste for fighting than for painting,
I would have met him and his legions with wooden cannon. Yet I have
heard certain _bigwigs_ of the University crack up the Guise Gallery!
They are nice social fellows at Christ Church for all this, and men of
taste; a conversation on painting is brought to table in hall there,
like the wine--devilishly well iced.'

1808.

SOCIAL AND GENERAL CARICATURES.

_January, 1808._ _The Discovery._

_January, 1808._ _Wild Irish, or Paddy from Cork with his Coat Buttoned
Behind._

_February 16, 1808._ _Scenes at Brighton, or the Miseries of Human
Life._

_Plate 3._ 'A Blackleg detected secreting cards &c., after drawing upon
your purse on former occasions, is the properest of men to run the
gauntlet, as he but too often produces substantial Miseries for Human
Life.'

_Plate 4._ 'Suffering under the last symptoms of a dangerous malady,
you naturally hope relief from medical skill and practice; but flying
periwigs, brandished canes, and clysters, the fear of random cuffs,
&c., intrude and produce a climax in the Miseries of Human Life.'

_March 1, 1808._ _Miseries of High Life._--'Briskly stooping to pick
up a lady's fan, at the same moment when two other gentlemen are doing
the same thing, and so making a cannon with your head against both of
theirs, and this without being the happy man after all.'

[Illustration: MISERIES OF HIGH LIFE.]

_March 1, 1808._ _The Green Dragon._ Rowlandson del. Published by R.
Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A clerical-looking and corpulent reprobate is
receiving the upbraidings of his infuriated spouse, to whom the artist
has playfully given some resemblance to a veritable dragon, with teeth,
claws, and venom. The position of affairs is further explained by a
spirited representation of 'Socrates and Zantippe,' which hangs on
the wall. A pretty servant-maid, who is making a somewhat hasty exit,
is supposed to have aroused the jealousy of the virago, whose vials
of wrath have brought her stout helpmate to a state of stupefaction
and terror. The picture is accompanied by the lines of Gay, from the
_Beggars' Opera_:--

    With rage I redden like scarlet, that my dear inconstant varlet,
    Stark blind to my charms, is lost in the arms of that jilt,
        that inveigling harlot!

_March 1, 1808._ _Description of a Boxing Match._ June 9, 1806.
Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.

_April 1, 1808._ _Soldiers on a March._ 'To pack up her tatters and
follow the drum.' Designed and published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James
Street, Adelphi.--The progress of the regiment is much impeded by
camp-followers. A stream happening to cross the route, the marching
party are wading through; the soldiers bearing in addition to their
knapsack the fairer burden of a wife, and in some cases two infants,
with kettles, gridirons, and other culinary appliances, the latter
swinging on the end of their muskets. The officer commanding the party
has the advantage of securing a mount on the plump shoulders of a
pretty damsel, whose skirts are tucked up as a preparation towards
wading across the water, with the feathered hero on her back.

_May 12, 1808._ _The Consultation, or Last Hope._ Published by R.
Ackermann, 101 Strand.--'So when the Doctors shake their heads, and bid
their patient think of Heaven--all's over, good night!'

From the picture, which rejoices in this comforting quotation, we judge
the unfortunate invalid, introduced by the artist as the principal
figure in this humorous plate, is in a bad case; his suffering face
expresses all the forlorn terrors of his extreme situation, which seems
tolerably hopeless, since he is attended by no less than ten learned
practitioners, and a sick-nurse; it is hard if among them they cannot
settle their patient's condition. The ten are by no means troubling
themselves about their client all at once: it is sufficient that a
brace of the brethren are feeling each a pulse, which operation does
not seem to afford them much enlightenment, since one is consulting
his chronometer, and the other is seeking inspiration from the head
of his gold-topped stick. Their colleagues are more agreeably engaged
in fortifying themselves for their arduous professional duties by
attending manfully to the refreshment department. The gouty patient
has evidently been a man of substance; over his mantel hangs a map of
'Rotten Boroughs,--Camelford, Devon, &c.'

_May 21, 1808._ _Volunteer Wit, or not Enough for a Prime._ Woodward
del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg (227).--A party
of Volunteer officers are gathered round the mahogany of their
entertainer, who, it seems, is a notorious screw; the host is offering
to fill the wine-glasses of the mess, but the dimensions of the glasses
are somewhat miniature for bumper toasts. A challenge is given from the
chair: 'Come, gentlemen-volunteers, to the right and left--Charge if
you please to the King!' The vice-chair is winning the sympathies of
the rest, and extracting a grin all round, by standing up, spectacles
on nose, and responding: 'I should be very happy to obey your orders,
Colonel, but really your glasses are so small, that, dash me if there's
enough for a prime!' The Colonel's miserly disposition is hinted by the
various papers thrown about, on the 'Current prices of Port wine,' and
such maxims as 'A penny saved is twopence got'; with a statement pinned
to the wall, 'How to get rich,' 'Pinch, squeeze, gripe, snatch, &c.'

1808 (?). _The Anatomy of Melancholy._ ''Tis a misery to be born,
a pain to live, a trouble to die.'--A mixed scene of suffering and
indifference. Propped up in a pillowed arm-chair, before the fire, is
a melancholy invalid, old, decrepit, and ill-favoured. By his side is
a list of 'Remedies against discontents,' 'Cure of jealousy,' &c.; on
the mantel is an array of doctor's bottles, and a hatchment,--_groans,
griefs, sadness_,--forms a cheerful adornment for the chimneypiece.

Behind the sufferer, whose last hour, it seems, is approaching--since
Death has thrust his head, arm, and hour-glass through a window above
his head--is seated a blooming young damsel, decked out in all the
attractiveness of an evening toilette; planted at a table by her
side is a dandified admirer; before them a dessert is arranged, and
decanters of wine are ready to hand. The nonchalant pair are pledging
one another amorously in bumpers, while the spirit of the founder of
the feast is departing. A painting of Democritus, his face wearing an
expression of grief on one side, and laughter on the other, explains
the transitory nature of sorrow, and the key of the situation is
further offered by certain lines inscribed on a paper under the lady's
hand: 'Come what may, the cat will mew, the dog will have his day.'

_May 21, 1808._ _The Mother's Hope._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp.
Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside. (No. 228.)--The Mothers Hope is a
pretty juvenile termagant, a Turk of the most irreclaimable order. The
young rebel is dancing about in a fine rage, scattering his playthings,
and 'making a bobbery' which is setting the entire house by the ears.
The screams of the intractable elder are imitated by an infant in arms,
and a canary is adding its shrill pipings to the general squall, after
the nature of little warblers.

[Illustration: THE MOTHER'S HOPE.]

The wilful child is making a general statement of refractory
resolutions:--'I don't like dolls--I don't like canary birds--I hate
battledore and shuttlecock--I like drums and trumpets--I won't go to
school--I will stay at home--I will have my own way in everything!'
The horrified grandmother is growing prophetic on the strength of this
irreconcilable prodigy: 'Bless the Baby--what an aspiring spirit--if he
goes on in this way he will be a second Buonaparte!'

_June 4, 1808._ _The Sweet Little Girl that I Love._ Woodward del.,
Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg. (167.)--A long military
gentleman, wearing spectacles, a pigtail, and a powdered wig and
whiskers, in the course of his perambulations has come across a quaint
round little body, as broad as she is long, and perched on pattens:
the hero is stooping low to salute the lips of the dwarfed lady. The
picture is designed as a parody upon the lines:--

    My friends all declare that my time is misspent,
      While in rural contentment I rove:
    I ask no more wealth than Dame Fortune has sent,
      And the sweet little girl that I love.
    The rose on her cheek's my delight:
    She's soft as the down--the down of the dove.
      No lily was ever so fair
    As the sweet little girl that I love.

_June 4, 1808._ _Odd Fellows from Downing Street, complaining to John
Bull._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111
Cheapside (168).--John Bull, in his best clothes, and standing in
the vicinity of the Treasury, is receiving a deputation, the members
of which, as far as appearance goes, are singularly fitted for the
order of Odd-fellows. The object of their interview is simply an
appeal to the sympathies of the National Prototype: 'You must know,
Mr. Bull, we are a society of Odd Fellows who had a Lodge in Downing
Street, and were robb'd of our cash and accounts, notwithstanding we
met at the King's Head, and so near the Treasury too! Is not it very
hard? However, we have left Downing Street entirely.' John Bull, who,
with his hand beneath his coat-tails, is ruminating over other more
weighty matters applying to his own case, and peering through his huge
spectacles, returns in reply: 'All I have to say, my good friends, is
this--I am very sorry for you, but I must own I am of opinion if some
more _Odd Fellows_ in Downing Street were to quit their situations it
would be very much to my advantage!'

_June 20, 1808._ _A Snug Cabin, or Port Admiral._ Published by R.
Ackermann, 101 Strand.--Very different cheer to the _Volunteer Prime_,
is found on board the ship of the port-admiral. That worthy personage
is drawn entertaining his naval colleagues, admirals, commodores,
and captains, in his state cabin, with the best of cheer; baskets of
prime vintage from the Isles of the Madeira, are ready to the nimble
steward's hand, and the goodly flasks are uncorked in a twinkling.
The jorums on the mahogany are capacious, and the glasses, which are
freely emptied, would serve as goblets for more than half-pint bumpers;
however, in spite of the hilarity, and the liberal circulation of
the decanters, decorum is preserved, and the naval commanders are
comporting themselves like 'fine old English gentlemen,' while the
toast goes round:--

    Come Hurricane,
    Drink your Wine.
    Here's to the wind that blows,
    The ship that goes,
    And the lass that loves a sailor.

[Illustration: A SNUG CABIN, OR PORT ADMIRAL.]

_June 30, 1808._ _Accommodation, or Lodgings to Let at Portsmouth._
Published by T. Tegg. (219.)--Certain smartly-rigged tars have
just come on shore, evidently after a handsome haul in the way of
prize-money, as the spruceness of their turn-out evinces. A highly
presentable 'salt' has his wife in tow; the lady has evidently taken a
share of his good fortune, being dressed in the height of the fashion,
with ear-rings, necklets, and chains, heavy enough for cables, to
which are suspended miniatures, seals, and watches. The happy pair are
evidently about to set up housekeeping, and an advertisement-board has
just arrested their attention, conveying the information, 'Lodgings for
Single Men and their Wives,' with an invitation to ring the bell. 'Why,
Nan,' exclaims the tar to his partner, 'this is the very berth we have
been so long looking after!'

_June 30, 1808._ _The Welsh Sailor's Mistake, or Tars in Conversation._
Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.
(220.)--The artist has assumed a little poetic licence to perpetrate
a jokelet of a very harmless order. Groups of sailors are seated on
the forecastle, some perched on coils of rope, others on sea chests;
a British tar, on a barrel, with a canister of 'real Oronooko' by
his side, is spinning a yarn to his messmates; he has arrived at the
exciting incident of his narrative:--'and so then, do you see, David,
we sprung a leak!' when his Welsh messmate, who cannot resist this
allusion to a reputed national delicacy, rather irrationally interrupts
him: 'Cot pless us--and save us--did you? and a ferry coot fetchitable
it is; I should have liked to have had a pit with you.'

_October 25, 1808._ _A Bill of Fare for Bond Street Epicures._ Woodward
del., engraved by T. Rowlandson. Published by T. Tegg.

_November 1, 1808._ _Wonderfully Mended; shouldn't have known you
again._ One of the series bearing Rowlandson's name, and published by
Reeve and Jones, 7 Vere Street.--The scene represents the consulting
room of some eminent quack of the day, who, dressed in his morning-gown
and slippers, with glasses on nose, is receiving his decrepit and
melancholy patients. The comforting assurance given by the practitioner
to his patients is, it appears, totally without foundation; all
his clients, judging from their condition, being in a fair way to
supplement the Bills of Mortality.

_November 1, 1808._ _The Last Shift._ Published by Reeve and Jones, 7
Vere Street.--Interior of a pawnbroker's shop; two St. Giles's demireps
are shown in the act of raising a loan to replenish their gin bottle,
at the expense of their wardrobe.

_November 1, 1808._ _Breaking Cover._ Published by Reeve and Jones, 7
Vere Street.--A fox-hunting party is passing through a village; one of
the Nimrods has seemingly formed an attachment for a fair neighbour:
standing on the back and saddle of his horse, he has contrived to raise
himself to the level of the lady's casement, and she is leaning out of
window, and rewarding his gallantry with a tender embrace; meanwhile
her husband in his nightcap, opening the shutter below, is securing a
prospect of the proceeding, which has thrown an expression of idiotic
consternation over his simple features.

_November 1, 1808._ _Get Money._--One of a series engraved in rough
facsimile of Rowlandson's original drawings, and bearing an imitation
of his autograph in the corner; published by Reeve and Jones, 7 Vere
Street.

Below the print appear the following lines:--

    Get Money, Money still,
    And then let Virtue follow if she will.

Three conventional types of Israelites are indicated standing in Duke's
Place, the resort of Jewish clothesmen, eagerly canvassing the above
doctrine, and carrying out its first injunction.

[Illustration: DOCTOR GALLIPOT.]

_November 1, 1808._ _Doctor Gallipot placing his Fortune at the feet of
his Mistress._ Published by Reeve and Jones, 7 Vere Street.

                       Throw physic to the dogs.

Doctor Gallipot, a brandy-faced empiric, who is dressed in the height
of the 'Frenchified' fashion, the better to support his quackeries, is
laying the implements of his profession, as his fortune, at the feet
of a slightly theatrical looking lady, whose figure is delineated with
Rowlandson's accustomed grace and spirit.

_November 1, 1808._ _Rum Characters in a Shrubbery._ Published by Reeve
and Jones, 7 Vere Street.--Four demireps, of dissipated appearance and
varied characteristics, are regaling themselves on Booth's gin at a
public bar or _Rum Shrubbery_.

_About 1808._ _Bartholomew's Fair._ Nixon del., Rowlandson sculp.--The
fun of the Fair is represented in full swing, and the humours of the
scenes displayed on all sides are seized and hit off with the usual
felicity of both artists. Judging from the caricature, the abolition of
fairs in the City must have been a boon to public order and morality.
The noise, disorder, and misrule of the festivity are taking place
outside the hospital. Boat-swings are revolving, a few of the swings
are getting into difficulties, upsetting, or the bottoms coming out,
while some of the swingers find themselves indisposed from the motion.
There are wandering sellers of sweets, pastry, and such things as were
devoured at _fairings_, boys with links, for it is late, and dusk;
booths for refreshments, where customers are eating hot cakes cooked
on the spot. There are drinking stalls where tipplers are taking too
much; as is illustrated in the person of a reveller who, finding
himself overcome with liquor, has laid down in the gutter to take a
little rest, an opportunity not lost sight of by the light-fingered
gentry who have come for business; the toper's watch, purse, hat, and
other portable property are swiftly transferred. There are booths for
dancing, and there are merrymakers who are managing to dance outside;
there are revolving wheel-swings and merry-go-rounds; there is a crowd
of very miscellaneous merry-making company, and parties of jolly
sailors arriving outside coaches. The harmony of the proceedings is
varied by several rows; and, in more than one spot, rings are formed
for fair fighting, and both men and women are exhibiting their prowess
in the boxing line, or exchanging buffets and scratches. The signs
and booths of famous showmen, once the splendours of by-gone fairs,
are disposed around; among the spectacles which invited those of our
forefathers who 'went to see the shows,' we may notice that Rowlandson
has introduced Miles' Menagerie, Saunder's Tragic Theatre, Gingle's
Grand Medley, Miss Biffin, Polito's Grand Collection, Punch, &c.

ROWLANDSON'S CARICATURES AGAINST BUONAPARTE.

As we have already seen, Rowlandson's pencil and graver were enlisted
against the Corsican; it would seem that the artist's anti-Napoleonic
proclivities ran strongly from this period until the downfall of the
Emperor; or else--which is the more reasonable solution--English
prejudices against the man whose almost frantic antagonism to this
country is now forgiven, if not well-nigh forgotten, demanded an
unlimited supply of pictorial satires to stimulate the national hatred,
a state of things which pleased both the publishers and the public,
and kept the caricaturist occupied, although it is to be regretted that
these somewhat imaginative scenes of horror employed his ready skill
to the exclusion of those representations of social manners, and the
observances of the world around him, whose eccentricities he might have
sketched from the life--scenes drawn from a quaint and picturesque
generation of which his earlier career has left us such lively
pictures, works which alone render his name worthy of his reputation,
and which form in themselves an inexhaustible and valuable legacy to
his followers.

_July 8, 1808._ _The Corsican Tiger at Bay._ Published by R. Ackermann,
101 Strand.--The mighty disturber of the peace of Europe is figured
under the form of a savage tiger, with his natural head, and on which
he wears the enormous military cocked hat with its long plume--most
indispensable accessories in all the caricaturist's portraits of the
great 'little Corsican.' The tiger's claws are rending four 'Royal
Greyhounds,' which are quite at the mercy of the ferocious conqueror;
but a larger and stronger pack of 'Patriotic Greyhounds' are giving
tongue, and a fierce charge is being made by some very determined
and mischievous-looking hounds who are rushing up to the attack. The
_Dutch Frog_, isolated on his own little mudheap, is promising to
join the fray: 'It will be my turn to have a slap at him next.' The
_Russian Bear_ and the _Austrian Eagle_, are kept in secure bondage by
heavy fetters, but the triple-headed bird of prey is looking forward
to a fresh onslaught, and prompting his fellow-captive: 'Now _Brother
Bruin_, is the time to break our chains.'

John Bull, on his own island shores, has come out in the character of a
sportsman; he is pointing his piece at the tiger brought to bay, and is
singing nursery rhymes for the general encouragement:--

                        There was a little man,
                       And he had a little gun,
                  And his bullets were made of lead:
               D--- me, but we'll manage him amongst us!

_July 10, 1808._ _Billingsgate at Bayonne, or the Imperial Dinner._
Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The members of the Royal
family of Spain, decoyed to Bayonne, are sitting down to a very
unruly repast, the entire company being at loggerheads. The Queen
has risen from table, and in true fishfag style she is raving at her
son Ferdinand, who is confronting her: 'Now, you villain, I'll tell
you to your face--and before my dear friend Boney--you are no child
of the King's--so you may shut up.' At this famous interview the
Oueen of Spain, it may be remembered, after upbraiding Ferdinand for
his usurpation, actually declared him illegitimate. This argument,
according to the print, does not demolish her opponent, who is
replying: 'Madam, I know all your tricks, and all the tricks of your
Prince of Peace.' The Infants of Spain are encouraging the last
speaker: 'Brother, don't mind her, we, the Infants, acknowledge you;'
a terrific personage, with the emblem of a Royal crown on the back
of his seat, is banging down his fist and demanding: 'Am not I the
great Zavallos? will you be silent?' Those on the opposite side are
more tranquilly disposed; Charles, who had abdicated by Buonaparte's
compulsion in favour of his son Ferdinand, is crying: 'I wish they
would let a poor old King play quietly on his fiddle!' while one of
the diners is actually paying attention to his meal, and wishing
'they would leave him at peace.' Little Buonaparte in the uniform of
a general, as he is usually represented, has risen from a high-raised
throne, erected in accordance with his imperial state, at the head of
the table; he is affecting to be in a passion at the general discord
which he had ingeniously contrived to foster and bring about: 'I'll
tell you what, if you make such a riot at my table, I'll be d----d if I
don't send you to the Round House!'

_July 12, 1808._ _The Corsican Spider in his Web._ Woodward del.,
Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--The formidable
Emperor is represented in a highly successful character as an overgrown
spider; his body is formed of 'unbounded Ambition,' which is topped
with his own head, he enjoys an amazing capacity for swallowing the
surrounding insects, which seem unable to resist being drawn into his
toils. The voracious Corsican Spider in the centre of his wide-spread
web, is swallowing down a brace of _Spanish Flies_. 'Small Flies
Innumerable' are entrapped in strings, and even the largest specimens
seem powerless to disentangle themselves; the Austrian, Dutch,
Portuguese, Hanoverian, Etrurian, Prussian, Hamburg, Italian, and
Venetian Flies are all more or less effectually secured; the 'Pope Fly'
is half entrapped, and is expressing a fear of being dragged in. The
'Russian Fly,' of more hostile disposition, has caught his feet in the
snare: 'I declare I was half in the web before I made the discovery.'
The 'Turkish Fly' is at present free, but its security is uncertain;
'I am afraid it will be my turn next.' Stout John Bull is figured as
the 'British Fly'; he is observing the wiles of the 'Corsican Spider'
without any anxiety on his own account: 'Ay, you may look, master
Spider, but I am not to be caught in your web!'

_July 12, 1808._ _The Corsican Nurse soothing the Infants of Spain._
Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.
(245.)--Buonaparte is acting as nurse to the rival Spanish claimants,
still clad in his uniform and boots, with the indispensable cocked hat
of Brobdingnagian proportions; the Emperor is lulling the entire royal
family to sleep: with one foot he is rocking the 'Imperial Cradle,'
which contains 'The good old King and his amiable Consort,' while
Don Carlos, in swaddling clothes, with a padlock round his neck, is
slumbering upon one of the Corsican's knees; upon the fellow is held
Antonio under similar conditions, while the arch-deceiver is rocking
a duplicate Imperial Cradle containing the unconscious 'Prince of
Asturias,' with his other foot.

_July 22, 1808._ _The Beast as described in the Revelations (Chap.
13), resembling Napoleon Buonaparte._ Designed by G. Sauler Farnham.
Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The Beast, which has sprung
from Corsica, is drawn with seven heads; the names of Austria, Naples,
Holland, Denmark, Prussia, and Russia are on the respective crowns; the
seventh head, which is of course that of Napoleon, is severed from the
trunk, while vomiting forth flames. The distance shows cities on fire,
where the beast has wrought destruction; on his body are the figures
666, the total of the numerals found in the name of Napoleon Buonaparte
added together, taking _a_ as one, _i_ as ten, _t_ as a hundred, and so
on.

Spain is represented as the champion who has had the courage to make a
stand against the monster. The patriot has crippled the destroyer; the
hero is armed with a sabre of _True Spanish Toledo_, and is crying,
'True patriotism shall thus subdue the monstrous beast, and quell
the rage of war.' His shield is _Catalonia_, a mitre, _St. Peter's,
Rome_, is his helmet; _Spanish Patriotism_ has struck the decisive blow
from his right arm, _Asturias_; his sword-belt is _Madrid_; his legs
_Cordova_; and with his foot, _Cadiz_, he is strangling a serpent. The
fleet of Admiral Purvis is seen on the seas; Hope, with her anchor, is
stooping to catch the crowns of France, Spain, and Portugal, which have
been shaken from the brow of the smitten beast.

_August 18, 1808._ _From the Desk to the Throne._ _A New Quick Step by
Joseph Buonaparte._ _The Bass by Messrs. Nappy and Tally._ Designed
by G. Sauler Farnham. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--This
caricature was issued to burlesque the astonishing elevation of Joseph
Buonaparte to the throne of Spain, of which, through his brother's
ingenuity, he secured a brief and by no means tranquil possession.

On Napoleon's coronation, his brothers had been created princes, and
Joseph had been made King of Naples before the Spanish intrigue.
The caricaturist's version, though striking, is not literally true.
According to the print Joseph Buonaparte has one foot resting on the
rail of the desk at which he lately occupied a seat, with the other
he is endeavouring to touch Madrid on the map of Spain and Portugal.
His pen has fallen from his ear, and he is straining to clutch the
royal regalia of Spain which is above his head. From a paper pinned
to the wall we are informed this remarkable promotion is taking its
rise from the office of a 'public notary, Bayonne.' His fellow-clerks,
pausing with their quills uplifted, to marvel at this sudden flight of
ambition, are making various pertinent observations: 'What a prodigious
step for a notary's clerk!' One clerk is exclaiming, 'Why, Joseph,
whither art thou going?'--'Whither?' replies the elevated clerk,
'Whither, but to fill my high destiny, and, like my noble brother, sway
the sceptre of another!' His colleagues are adding as riders, 'He must
needs go whom the devil drives, and should it cost his neck!'

    But proverbs tell of many slips
    Between the tankard and the lips,
    And really I am apt to give
    The proverb credit as I live!

_August 21, 1808._ _King Joe's Retreat from Madrid._ Woodward del.,
Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--The occupancy
of the Spanish throne has not proved, if we may trust the print, a
profitable sinecure of long duration. King Joseph is rushing away from
his new dignity as fast as his legs will carry him; the crown has
slipped off in the flight; the fugitive's invincible standards and the
'Legions of Honour' are in tatters, but the hands of the Frenchmen are
not empty; king, officers, and troops are all loaded with bags of plate
and bullion. The Spanish soldiers are up in arms; their priests are
encouraging the pursuers, who are firing a volley into the midst of the
scared invaders, while crying 'Stop thieves! stop thieves! they have
stolen the plate from the palace.' Joseph's fears are too much for his
self-command; he is appealing to his great little brother, 'Why don't
you stop? the Philistines are pursuing us.' Napoleon is replying from
his carriage, which is tearing away up hill as fast as his coachman can
urge the horses, 'I can't, brother Joe, I am in a great hurry myself.'

_August 27, 1808._ _King Joe on his Spanish Donkey._ Woodward del.,
Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--King Joe,
the new sovereign, is finding his seat anything but easy, and even
his military saddle has proved a failure; the animal he has had the
temerity to mount has become ungovernable; the usurper is losing
his seat; the crown is flying one way, the sceptre another: 'Bless
me, what a restive animal this is! I thought he would have been as
gentle as a French pony, and was as easily managed as an Italian
greyhound!' The Spanish donkey is neighing at a pack of 'Saddle-bags
for the Spaniards,' and his heels are kicking to the winds the various
proclamations, 'All found with arms to be shot!' 'No liberty to a
Spaniard!' 'The road to fortune!' 'Joseph, King of Spain!' 'French
news!' 'No quarter!' Thumbscrews for the rebels!'

_September 12, 1808._ _A Spanish Passport to France._ Woodward del.,
Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A Spanish
don, dressed in all his ancient splendour, with a huge sombrero hat
and feathers, a long Toledo rapier, and wearing his fierce moustachios
turned up to his eyes, is kicking the French invader to France:
'_Va-t'en, Coquin_.' The usurper, whose courage has disappeared, is
sneaking off in undissembled terror; he is receiving the indignities
inflicted by the don with abject servility: '_Votre très humble
serviteur, monsieur_.'

_September 12, 1808._ _The Political Butcher, or Spain cutting up
Buonaparte, for the benefit of her neighbours._ Published by R.
Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The Spanish don has put on a butcher's apron
and sleeves; the body of the late 'disturber of the peace of Europe' is
extended on his dissecting board, and the operator is cutting up the
Corsican with professional zeal. The Spaniard is holding up his enemy's
head, and encouraging the other powers, who have come to take a share
in the dismemberment of the Corsican, 'Now, my little fellows, here are
bones for you all to pick. The meat, being just killed, may be somewhat
toughish, but I'll warrant it fresh and high-flavoured. True Corsican
veal, I assure you, you see the head!' The Imperial double-headed eagle
of Austria, is swooping over this morsel: 'I have long wished to strike
my talons into that diabolical headpiece, and now I hope to do it
effectually!' The Prussian eagle is crippled: 'Oh! the delicious morsel
for an eagle to pick, but my clipt wings cannot bear me so high. Cruel
Boney! why cut them so short?'

The Italian greyhound is practising a new concerto called, 'If you
will not when you may, when you will it shall be nay.--The harmony by
Spain and Portugal.' The Danish dog is picking all the flesh left on
the arm: 'The nearer the bone the sweeter the meat; but,' alluding to
the presence of England, 'the nearer that Bull, the less I can eat.'
The British bull-dog, who has been enjoying portions of the joints, has
started up: 'I should like to have the picking of that head, for I dare
say it is hare-brained!' The Russian bear is indulging in the luxury of
licking the Napoleonic boots, and he is beginning to long for a taste:
'This licking gives me a mortal inclination to pick a bone, as well as
the rest. But Turkey's a fine garden, and would be a vast acquisition.'
Sweden, a white-coated dog, is giving good counsel to her neighbour:
'Yes, but a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush!'

The Dutch frog is seated on a cask of Hollands, beside a barrel of
'somniferous cordial' for King Louis; he is smoking a reflective pipe
over his prospects. 'If I were sure matters are as they appear I should
like to pick a bone, it is true; but wisdom bids us doubt, and prudence
condemns precipitation, so I'll e'en take another whiff!'

In the slaughter-house at the rear are shown the carcases of Murat,
Dupont, Junot, and others, suspended by the heels.

_September 15, 1808._ _The Fox and the Grapes._ Woodward del.,
Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The Corsican
fox, who is still at large, has turned his tail on certain rich
vines heavy with ripe Spanish grapes, which are growing beside fine
prolific Portuguese plum-trees. The fox, who bears Napoleon's head,
with his inevitable huge cocked hat, is speciously trying to convince
the Gallic cock that the fruit, which he cannot reach, is not worth
gathering, 'Believe me, my dear doodle-do, you would not like them. I
found them so sour that I absolutely could not touch them!' This excuse
is not satisfactory to the hearer, 'But, my good friend, you promised
to bring me home some Spanish grapes and Portugal plums; where are
they?'

_September 17, 1808._ _Prophecy Explained._ '_And there are seven
kings, five are fallen, and one is, and the other is not yet come, and
when he cometh he must continue but a short space._ Revelation, chap.
17, v. 10.'--The fulfilment of prophecy is pictorially set forth with
a completeness which must have been felt eminently satisfactory: the
five kings that have fallen, the crowned monarchs of Prussia, Bavaria,
Holland, Saxony, and Wurtemberg, are all tumbling about in the 'Slough
of Disgrace and Ridicule.' The one that is, is of course 'King Nap.'
The little Emperor, in all his imperial state, robes, crown, orb and
sceptre, is still left standing, but his face wears an apprehensive
expression, as he is gazing on the fate of the one that 'continued but
a short space'--'King Joe,' to wit, who is driven beyond the Pyrenean
Mountains in a state of consternation, while a fair goddess, the figure
of Spanish liberty, floating on the clouds, is depriving the usurper of
the Spanish crown.

_September 20, 1808._ _Napoleon the Little in a Rage with his Great
French Eagle._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--Napoleon, in
his general's uniform, with his sword drawn, and bristling with rage
up to the tip of his preposterous feather, is menacing his huge French
eagle, which is much larger than himself; the Imperial crown is on the
bird's head, and one of his legs is tied up--the results of damages
sustained in the recent flight from Spain. It will be remembered that
Joseph Buonaparte evacuated Spain August 1808. Napoleon is furiously
rating his fugitive slave, 'Confusion and destruction! what is this I
see? Did I not command you not to return till you had spread your wing
of victory over the whole Spanish nation?'--'Ay, it's fine talking,
Nap, but if you had been there, you would not much have liked it; the
Spanish cormorants pursued me in such a manner that they not only
disabled one of my legs, but set me a moulting in such a terrible way
that I wonder I had not lost every feather; besides it got so hot I
could not bear it any longer!'

_September 24, 1808._ _A Hard Passage, or Boney Playing Base on the
Continent._ The design suggested by G. Sauler Farnham. Published by
R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--Buonaparte, with a drum for a seat, and
standing on the map of the Continent, with his foot placed on Spain
and Portugal, is trying to scrape through a difficult piece of music,
_Conquest of Spain and Portugal_; the music book is open on a desk
before him. 'Plague take it, I never met with so difficult a _passage_
before. But if I can once get over the _flats_ we shall do pretty well,
for you see the key will then change to B sharp.' The Russian bear,
with a muzzle on his jaws, is trying to accompany his leader: 'Why,
that is natural enough, brother Boney, though this French horn of yours
seems rather out of order, I think!'

_September 25, 1808._ _King Joe & Co., Making the Most of their Time
previous to Quitting Madrid._ Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.

    A cut-purse of the Empire and the rule,
    Who from the shelf the precious Diadem stole
    And put it in his pocket.--SHAKESPEARE.

Before taking their hurried departure, the 'Intrusive King' and the
French invaders are helping themselves to the spoils of the Spaniards;
'Joe' is assisting himself to the regalia; the generals are packing
the royal and ecclesiastical plate of Spain into chests for transport;
strong boxes are being filled with bags of ducats and medals; the
troopers are making off with sacks of treasure; the curtains are
torn down; pictures are wrenched from the walls, and such objects
as statues, which cannot be carried away, are ruthlessly destroyed.
The French, it appears, wantonly damaged or burnt all the property
which came in their way when they were unable to carry it off. The
wardrobe, carriages, and plunder from Madrid were retaken by the
British army. The numerous carriages, of all descriptions, and tumbrils
so completely blocked the road, and filled the contiguous fields,
it was difficult to pass. The carriages were completely loaded with
baggage, and the miserable animals pushed into deep and wet ditches.
The four-wheeled tumbrils were loaded with ammunition and money; the
soldiers got thousands of dollars and doubloons; it is said that one
man alone secured doubloons to the value of 8,000_l._ The entire
plunder, baggage, money, artillery, and the supplies of the French army
were taken, carriages, animals, and a great many ladies. Joe always
travelled with a suite of the latter, generally beautiful women. It is
said there were ten ladies of his private family with him; those were
all taken; it is said he only escaped with the clothes on his back,
having lost his hat. By way of replenishing his goods and chattels
he actually stole the linen, plate, and clothes from every place he
stopped at, until he reached the French frontier.'

_September 29, 1808._ _Nap and his Partner Joe._ Published by T. Tegg,
111 Cheapside.--The Dons of Spain and Portugal, reunited in a body, are
heartily kicking the two Buonapartes into the mouth of a mysterious
monster, opened for the reception of the pair and vomiting forth flames
from a cavern supposed to represent the entrance to the infernal region.

    So seeing we were fairly nick'd,
    Plump to the Devil we boldly kick'd
    Both Nap and his Partner Joe!

_October 1, 1808._ _Nap and his Friends in their Glory._ Published
by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A remarkably well assorted quartet,
according to English views at the period, consisting of Napoleon,
seated beside his friends Death, the Devil, and Joseph, ex-king of
Spain. Napoleon, at whose back is a view of Malmaison, has risen to
propose a toast: 'Come, gentlemen, here is success to plunder and
massacre!' Two of the guests are receiving this sentiment with rapture,
but 'Joe, the intruder,' is sitting in sulkiness, discomfited by the
late experience which had been forced on him.

    A NEW SONG--NAP AND HIS FRIENDS IN THEIR GLORY.

    _To the Tune of 'Drops of Brandy.'_

    NAP.

    These Spaniards are terrible rogues,
      They will not submit to my fetters,
    With patience so gracefully worn--
      Nay, sought for--by nations their betters.
    But let us return to the charge,
      And no longer with levity treat them,
    Once get them to lay down their arms,
      And I'll warrant, brave boys, we shall beat them.
                    Rum ti iddidy-iddidy,
                    Rum ti iddidy I do!

    DEATH.

    Brother Boney, we'll never despair,
      A trusty good friend I have found you,
    Kill, plunder, and burn, and destroy,
      And deal desolation around you.
    Then gaily let's push round the glass,
      We'll sing and run riot and revel,
    And I'm sure we shall have on our side,
      Our very good friend here, the Devil!
                    Rum ti iddidy-iddidy,
                    Rum ti iddidy I do!

    THE DEVIL.

    Believe me, friend Death, you are right,
      Although I'm an ugly old fellow,
    When mischief is getting afloat,
      O then I am jolly and mellow.
    As soon as these Spaniards are crush'd
      Again we'll be merry and sing, Sirs,
    And that we will quickly 'complish,
      And Joey here, he shall be king, Sirs.
                    Rum ti iddidy-iddidy,
                    Rum ti iddidy I do!

    DON JOEY.

    Excuse me from lending my aid,
      You may jointly pursue them, and spike them,
    But lately I've seen them, and own,
      If I speak the plain truth, I don't like them.
    They Liberty cherish so dear,
      That they certainly make her their guide, O,
    Who pleases may make themselves King,
      But may I be devilled if I do!
                    Rum ti iddidy-iddidy,
                    Rum ti iddidy I do!

_October 3, 1808._ _John Bull arming the Spaniards._ Published by R.
Ackermann, 101 Strand.--John Bull has arrived to assist the Spaniards.
The national prototype, grasping his cudgel of oak, and surrounded by
an array of stores of his own liberal providing, is addressing friendly
encouragements to the Don: 'My good friend, you see I have brought you
clothing for ten thousand men, _viz._, cheese, shoes, stockings, belts,
and small clothes, besides arms and ammunition, and if that won't do
I'll bring you Gully and Gregson, and the Devil is in it if _they_
won't do!'

His new ally is grateful, and especially looks forward to the
assistance of the prize-fighters: 'We thank thee, Johnny, for all thou
hast brought, and if thou canst bring the other two we shall be more
obliged to thee!'

John Bull has furnished his friend with a tolerably liberal outfit,
piles of guns, bayonets, and swords, barrels of powder, shot galore,
bales of stockings, shirts, coats, belts, shoes, with (for what reason
is not shown) a marvellous selection of cheeses--Stilton, Cheshire,
Gloucester, Cambridge, Yorkshire, Leicestershire, Cottenham, Bath,
Wiltshire, Cream, Derbyshire, &c.; a sack of gold pieces is also
included amongst the supplies: we learn that at one time, on the
Peninsula, 'English guineas had no attraction, the dollar or moidore
was the medium; but since guineas have been introduced in payment of
the army the natives seem to appreciate their value.'

_October 17, 1808._ _Junot disgorging his Booty._ Published by R.
Ackermann, 101 Strand.--General Junot has been seized by a British tar,
who is making the invader disgorge his plunder, consisting of utensils
of gold, jewels, and specie; the Spanish Don is holding a receptacle
for this costly booty in course of restitution. The French officers are
stamping in despair over the disasters of their chief: '_Morbleu! comme
il a mal au coeur, notre pauvre général._' Jack Tar, evidently thinking
of 'the yellow boys,' is replying, 'More blue? why, ye lubber, what do
ye mean by that? don't ye see it's as yellow as gold?'

_November 19, 1808._ _The Progress of the Emperor Napoleon._ Published
by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--The career of the Corsican is set forth
pictorially in a progressive series of eight pictures. 'First, A
ragged-headed Corsican peasant; second, Studying mischief at the
Royal Military Academy at Paris; third, An humble ensign, in a
Republican corps, requesting a situation in the British army; fourth,
A determined atheistical Republican general ordering his men to fire
on the Parisians volleys of grape-shot; fifth, A Turk at Grand Cairo;
sixth, A runaway from Egypt; seventh, A devout Catholic; eighth, An
Emperor on a "throne of iniquities," _O tempora, O mores!_' On the back
of the imperial seat, on which the last step of Napoleon's progress
leaves him, is posted a list of murders set down to the Corsican's
account:--'Duke d'Enghien, prisoners at Jaffa, Palm, Captain Williams,
Pichegru, Caton, Toussant, &c., &c.'

             AN ACADEMY FOR GROWN HORSEMEN, AND ANNALS OF
                             HORSEMANSHIP.

                COMMUNICATED BY GEOFFREY GAMBADO, ESQ.

_Riding Master of the Horse, and Grand Equerry to the Doge of Venice._

           ILLUSTRATED WITH PLATES, DESIGNED BY H. BUNBURY,
                       ETCHED BY T. ROWLANDSON.

    To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
    And witch the world with noble horsemanship.--SHAKESPEARE.

                        GEOFFREY GAMBADO, ESQ.

'As I shall be as concise and explicit as possible in the valuable
instructions and discoveries I am now about to communicate to the
world, it will be the reader's own fault if he does not profitably
benefit by them. When I have told him how to choose a horse, how to
tackle him properly, in what sort of dress to ride him, how to ride
him out, and, above all, how to ride him home again, if he is not a
complete horseman in the course of ten or a dozen summers, I will
be bold to foretell that neither the skill of Mr. Astley, nor the
experience of Mr. John Gilpin, will ever make him one.

                   'Nil desperandum, me duce Teucro.

                       'DIRECTIONS FOR THE ROAD.

'In riding the road, observe in passing a whisky, a phaeton, or a
stage-coach, in short, any carriage where the driver sits on the right
hand, to pass it on that side, he may not see you on the other, and
though you may meet with a lash in the eye, what is the loss of an eye
to a leg, or perhaps a neck.

'Take care never to throw your horse down, it is an unlucky trick, and
fit only for boys. Many gentlemen of my acquaintance, and I too, have
been thrown down by our horses; yet I scarce know an instance upon
record of a gentleman throwing his horse down, but many have complained
to me of their servants doing it for them.

[Illustration: HOW TO PASS A CARRIAGE.]

'In passing a waggon or any tremendous equipage, should it run pretty
near a bank, and there be a ditch and an open country on the other
side, if you are on business and in a hurry, dash up the bank without
hesitation, for should you take the other side, and your horse shy at
the carriage, you may be carried many hundred yards out of your road,
whereas by a little effort of courage you need only graze the wheel,
fly up the bank, and by slipping or tumbling down into the road again
go little or nothing out of your way.

   'ACCIDENTAL EXPERIMENTS AND EXPERIMENTAL ACCIDENTS, COMMUNICATED
                      BY VARIOUS CORRESPONDENTS.

                     _'Letter to Mr. G. Gambado._

'"Sir--I want your advice, and hope you will give it me concerning a
horse I have lately bought, and which does not carry me at all in the
same way he did the man I bought him of. Being recommended to a dealer
in Moorfields (who, I think, is no honester than he ought to be), I
went to him and desired to look into his stable, and so he took me in,
with a long whip in his hand, which, he said, was to wake the horses
that might perhaps be asleep, as they were but just arrived from a long
journey, coming fresh from the breeders in the North. There were some
fine-looking geldings, I thought, and I pitched upon one that I thought
would suit me, and so he was saddled, and I desired the dealer to mount
him, and he did, and a very fine figure the gelding cut; and so the
people in the street said, and a decent man in a scratch-wig said the
man who rode him knew how to make the most of him, and so I bought him.
But he goes in a different manner with me, for instead of his capering
like a trooper he hangs down his head and tail, and neither whip nor
spur can get him out of a snail's gallop. And I want to know whether by
law I must keep him, as he is certainly not the horse I took him for,
and therefore I ought to have my money again.

[Illustration: HOW TO MAKE THE MOST OF A HORSE.]

'"The limner in our lane was with me when I bought him, and has taken a
picture of him as he was with the dealer on his back, and another as he
now goes with me upon his back, by which you will see the difference,
and judge how better to advise me upon it.

                                      '"I am, Sir, your humble servant,
                                                      '"TOBIAS HIGGINS.
                                           '"Lavender Row, Shoreditch."

                        '_Mr. Gambado's Reply._

'"Sir--Upon a strict examination of the two pictures by the limner in
your lane, I am clear you are in possession of the identical horse
you intended to purchase, although he does not exhibit quite so much
agility under you, or make so tearing a figure as when mounted by Mr.
----, who I am well acquainted with, and who, you may depend, is as
honest a man as any that deals in horseflesh.

'"You could have no right to return the horse if he went no better than
one with his legs tied. You stand in the predicament of Lord ----, who
gave twenty guineas for Punch, and when he found he could not make him
speak prosecuted the showman; but my Lord Chief Justice adjudged the
man to keep his money, and my Lord his Punch, although he could not get
a word out of him.

'"My opinion is, sir, as you ask it, that the decent man in the
scratch-wig made a very sensible remark when he observed that my friend
Mr. ---- knew how to make the most of a horse, and I am satisfied that
you, sir, know with equal facility how to make the least of one.

                                      '"I am, Sir, your humble servant,
                                                          '"G. GAMBADO.

'"P.S.--I am sorry to add my maid tells me that two shillings out of
your five were very bad ones."

[Illustration: HOW TO MAKE THE LEAST OF HIM.]

                     '_Letter to G. Gambado, Esq._

'"Sir--Being informed that you are now at home, and desirous of giving
every information in your power to those who may stand in need of
it respecting their horses, I beg leave to submit my case to you,
which, considering how fond I am of the chase, you must admit to be a
lamentable one. Relying, however, sir, as I do, on your philanthropy
(I should more properly say Phillipigy) and that zeal in the cause
which has so long characterised you, I make no doubt but the small
difficulties I now labour under will be soon surmounted.

'"You must know, sir, I am very fond of hunting, and live in as fine a
scenting country as any in the kingdom. The soil is pretty stiff, the
leaps large and frequent, and a great deal of timber to get over. Now,
sir, my brown horse is a very capital hunter, and though he is slow,
and I cannot absolutely ride over the hounds (indeed the country is so
enclosed that I do not see so much of them as I could wish), yet in
the end he generally brings me in before the huntsman goes home with
the dogs. So thus far I have no reason to complain. Now, sir, my brown
horse is a noble leaper, and never gave me a fall in his life that way,
but he has got an awkward trick (though he clears everything with his
fore-legs in capital style) of leaving the other two on the wrong side
of the fence, and if the gate or stile happens to be in a sound state,
it is a work of time and trouble to get his hind-legs over. He clears a
ditch finely indeed with two feet, but the others constantly fall in;
that gives me a strange pain in my back like what is commonly called
lumbago, and unless you kindly stand my friend, and instruct me how I
am to bring these hind-legs after me, I fear I shall never get rid of
it. If you please, sir, you may ride him a-hunting yourself any day you
will please to appoint, and you shall be heartily welcome. You will
then be better enabled to give me your advice; you can't have a proper
conception of the jerks he will give you without trying him.

[Illustration: HOW TO DO THINGS BY HALVES.]

                                         '"I am, Sir, with due respect,
                                            '"Your very humble servant,
                                                 '"NIC. NUTMEG, Clerk."

                            '_The Answer._

'"REVEREND SIR,--Your brown horse being so good a hunter, and, as you
observe, having so fine a notion of leaping, I should be happy if I
could be of any service in assisting you to make his two hind-legs
follow the others, but, as you observe, they seem so very perverse and
obstinate that I cherish but small hopes of prevailing upon them.

'"I have looked and found many such cases, but no cure.

'"However, in examining my papers I have found out something that may
prove of service to you in your very lamentable case.

[Illustration: TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS.]

'"An hostler has informed me that it is a common trick played upon
bagsters or London riders, when they are not generous to the servants
at the inn, for a wicked boy or two to watch one of them as he turns
out of the gateway, and to pop a bush or stick under his horse's tail,
which he instantly brings down upon the stick, and holds it fast,
kicking at the same time at such a rate as to dislodge the bagman
that bestrides him. Here, sir, is a horse that lifts up his hind-legs
without moving his fore ones, and just the reverse, as I may say, of
yours, and perhaps the hint may be acceptable. Suppose, then, when
your horse has flown over a gate or a stile in his old way, with his
fore-legs only, you were to dismount and clap your whip or stick
properly under his tail and then mount again, the putting him in a
little motion will set him on his kicking principles in a hurry, and
it's ten to one but, by this means, you get his hind-legs to follow the
others. You will be able, perhaps, to extricate your stick from its
place of confinement when you are up and over (if you are not down),
but should you not it is but sixpence gone. I send you this as a mere
surmise; perhaps it may answer, perhaps not.

'"I beg to thank you for your offer, which is a very kind one, but I
beg to be excused accepting it; all my ambition being to add to the
theory with as little practice as possible.

                            '"I am, Rev. Sir, your most humble servant,
                                                         '"G. GAMBADO."

                     '_Letter to G. Gambado, Esq._

'"GOOD SIR,--I am in great haste, having a great quickness of pulse,
and my bed being now warming, but cannot get into it without first
informing you how fast I came home from market to-night, and upon my
old mare, too, who was always unkind before as to going. But so it
happened. The old mare, that I could never get to go above three miles
an hour, as soon as ever I was up, set off, and the devil couldn't stop
her till she got home--ten miles in about fifty-eight minutes. I'm in a
heat yet. But I have found out her motive, and now the public may make
use of it. I had bought a couple of lobsters to carry home, had their
claws tied up, and put one into each of my great-coat pockets. Well,
the old gentleman in my right pocket (a cunning one, I warrant him)
somehow or other contrived to disengage his hands, and no doubt soon
applied them to the old mare's side, and, I imagine, had got fast hold
of a rib by the time I reached the first mile-stone, for she was mad, I
thought, and my hat and wig were gone in a twinkle. However, when I got
off, and had taken a little breath, I went into the kitchen to unload,
but missed one of my lobsters; so I ran back into the stable, and there
was the hero hanging at the old mare's side; she'd had enough of it,
and so stood quiet.

[Illustration: HOW TO MAKE THE MARE TO GO.]

[Illustration: HOW TO PREVENT A HORSE SLIPPING HIS GIRTHS.]

'"I thought myself bound to inform you of this, hoping it would prove a
great national discovery. I mean to keep lobsters on purpose, for it's
cheaper than buying a horse instead of my old mare; and I can go faster
with one of them in my pocket than I could post. When my boys come home
from school, to hunt in the forest, I mean to treat each of them with a
cray-fish for his pony, and then, I think, we shall head the field.

                                     '"I am, sir, yours, ever in haste,
                                                       '"PETER PUFFIN."

[Illustration: THE APOTHEOSIS OF GEOFFREY GAMBADO, ESQ.]

'_Letter to_ MR. G. GAMBADO, _editor of various learned performances_.

'"SIR,--You have no doubt heard of a description of Natural
Philosophers, called Pigeon Fanciers, who breed the bird of that name,
and all its varieties. I was once, sir, a member of this community,
till growing tired of punters, tumblers, nuns, croppers, runts, &c.,
&c., I was resolved to enlarge my ideas, by extending my researches
and abandoning the biped, to obtain a closer acquaintance with the
quadruped. I became a horse-fancier. Being fond of riding, and daily
observing, in my airings to Brentford, a great variety of horses, and a
still greater variety in their motions, I, some years since, set about
making a collection of such as were singular and eccentric in their
shapes and actions, and I flatter myself no private museum can boast
of a more admirable variety than I have possessed.

'"As amongst pigeons, so amongst horses, there are tumblers. The feat
is, however, performed differently, and varies considerably in its
effect on the performers. As the pigeon executes this without anything
on its back, so the horse seldom achieves it without somebody upon his.
To the latter, therefore, we must give the greatest share of merit,
who ventures to perform upon a hard road what the other does only in
the air, without even a cloud to brush against. The one preferring, it
seems, the Milky, and the other the Highway.

'"Among horses, I have never discovered a pouter; but I have had a
fine puffer. The noise he made, however, and particularly when at his
business, was not pleasant; and I let a neighbour have him cheap,
who had a good three-stall museum, and a very heavy vehicle to draw;
so that in all weathers he might enjoy the entertainment of his very
extraordinary qualifications.

[Illustration: THE TUMBLER, OR ITS AFFINITIES.]

'"It is well known that there is a horse that is called a carrier, so
there is a pigeon likewise. But as it may not be known to every one, I
must inform you that from very long observation, I find the pigeon is
the most expeditious of the two.

                                 '"I am, sir, your very humble servant,
                                                       '"BENJ. BUFFON."

                     'ADVICE TO WOULD-BE HORSEMEN.

'I have given you the hints contained in my previous letters supposing
you are at home enough on horseback to ride out alone, and may possibly
be tempted to travel the road, as either the lucre of gain, or the
_universal passion_, as a celebrated author calls the love of fame, may
send you forth.

'Let me entreat you to examine your tackling well at setting out,
particularly from an inn and after dinner. See that your girths are
tight; many a good fall have I got by not attending to this. Ostlers
are too apt to be careless, and ought never to be paid till we see
them the next time.[7] An instance of a singular nature occurred at
Huntingdon a few years since to the Rev. D. B., of Jesus College,
in Cambridge, which has given a discovery to the world (productive,
indeed, of a paper war), but which may turn out beneficial to mankind,
as it proves 3 to be equal to 4.

[Illustration: HOW TO RIDE A HORSE UPON THREE LEGS.]

'The Doctor dined at the "Crown"; it was dusk when he set out
northwards. I myself saw 3_s._ charged in his bill for wine; this
accounts for his want of observation. As for the ostler's, I must
attribute it to his having been paid beforehand. The Doctor went off
at a spurt pretty much in the manner I have recommended, and having
got clear of the pavement he wished to (what is called) mend his pace;
but his horse was obdurate, and all his influence could not prevail.
The Doctor fancied at times he went oddly, and therefore brought to at
Alconbury, five miles from Huntingdon, and alighted for an examination,
when he discovered that the ostler, through inattention, had buckled up
one of the horse's hind-legs in the surcingle; and to this alone he had
to attribute his hobbling way of going.

'There was an ostler[8] at Barnet who was a moralist, possibly this at
Huntingdon was an experimental philosopher, and thought an old member
of the University the most proper subject to put his experiment in
execution. It certainly answered as far as five miles; but how it would
succeed in bringing horses of different forms together over Newmarket,
I am not competent to determine. It seems as if one might work a lame
horse thus and keep his unsound leg quiet. If this experiment has been
repeated it has been in private, for I have not heard of it; and I much
question if it would ever be generally adopted. When I say _generally_,
no reflection upon general officers. A timid major, however, might keep
his horse in due subjection on a review day by this method.

                                                     'GEOFFREY GAMBADO.

[Illustration: DR. CASSOCK, F.R.S., INVENTOR OF THE PUZZLE FOR
TUMBLE-DOWN HORSES.]

                       '_Letter to_ MR. GAMBADO.

'"I return you my most hearty thanks for the very salutary advice
you have been good enough to give me, from which I have derived much
improvement, and should have acknowledged sooner had I made sufficient
trial of the fine machine you recommended in such warm terms. My hobby,
as I told you before, is an admirable animal, and finely calculated for
a pensive man like myself to take the air upon. It was a pity he was
prone to tumble, and that, too, in stony roads the most, for he was
otherwise bordering on perfection. So I sent for a carpenter on the
receipt of your recipe, and had a large puzzle of oak made for him,
after the pattern of those worn by the Squire's pointers, and I have
found it answer prodigiously.

'"I have had nothing like a bad fall lately, except one day in
cantering over a ploughed field, where, upon a blunder, the machine
entered the ground with such force as to introduce a portion of the
hobby's head along with it. We came clean over, and for some time I
thought my hobby's neck was broken. I did not mind it myself; but I
shall take care in future always to gallop on the hard road, and then
such another catastrophe cannot ensue.

                                                           '"I am, sir,
                                 '"Your very obsequious humble servant,
                                                       '"CALEB CASSOCK.

'" P.S.--I forgot to tell you my parishioners stare at me a good
deal. The machine has an odd appearance, I own, but not altogether
unpicturesque. I got the drawing master of Mr. Birch's school to send
you a sketch of us. It is esteemed a likeness. That of the hobby is
rather flattering."

                            '_My Remarks._

'"I am happy to find the puzzle has answered so well; and I doubt not
now it has been tried and approved by such a right-headed reverend
gentleman, one who is also so good a horseman, and understands all the
matter so well, that, by producing his name, I shall be able to get a
patent for it, which cannot but prove very lucrative, for who has the
horse that he will swear will never tumble down?

'"This I believe would be a question that would pose (upon oath) every
man on horseback in Hyde Park on a Sunday.

'"Though Dr. Shaw, who is a great traveller indeed, has the modesty to
assure us that the Barbary horses never lie down; yet even he has not
the effrontery to say that they never tumble down!

                                                               '"G. G."

                        '_To_ G. GAMBADO, ESQ.

'"SIR,--Hearing much of your knowledge in horses, I beg leave to ask
your advice in a business where my delicacy, as a gentleman, is deeply
concerned, and flatter myself that you will sensibly feel for my
situation, my future fortune in life depending on your decision. I have
the happiness to be well received by a young lady of fortune in this
town, who rides out every morning, and has had the goodness to permit
me to join her for some days past. I flatter myself I am beloved, but,
sir, the horse I ride is my father's, and he will not allow me to part
with him: and this horse, sir, has an infirmity of such an embarrassing
nature, that our interviews are unpleasantly interrupted at frequent
intervals, and my dear Miss S---- will perhaps ride away with some