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Title: English Caricaturists and Graphic Humourists of the Nineteenth Century. - How they Illustrated and Interpreted their Times.
Author: Everitt, Graham
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "English Caricaturists and Graphic Humourists of the Nineteenth Century. - How they Illustrated and Interpreted their Times." ***

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Transcriber's notes:

(1) Letters following a carat (^) were originally printed in superscript.

(2) Side-notes were moved to their respective paragraph's start, and
    treated as titles. for the exact locations see the html version.

(3) The following typographical errors have been corrected:

   Page i: "are useful in themselves, and are neatly and clearly."
   'clearly' amended from 'cleary'.

   Page 8: "I have seen the ghastly illustrations to the licentious
   Contes Drolatiques of Balzac." 'Drolatiques' changed from

   Page 100: "Arrogance or Nonchalance of the Tenth Reported."
   'Nonchalance' changed from 'Nonchalence'.

   Page 114: "In common fairness some credit should be conceded."
   'conceded' changed from 'conceeded'.

   Page 115: "with a threat of further inquiry into its truth." 'further'
   changed from 'furthur'.

   Page 116: "This extraordinary work presents us with pictures." 'work'
   amended from 'works'.

   Page 117: "The King at Home, or Mathews at Carlton House." 'The'
   amended from 'the'.

   Page 206: "Professor Bates would assign as one of the principal
   causes of the sterility which befel the genius of Cruikshank."
   'befell' amended from 'befel'

   Page 246: "who however is too firmly seated on his shoulders to be
   dislodged." 'dislodged' amended from 'disloged'.

   Page 330: "While at Whitby, a deputation from the Institute of that
   town waited on John Leech." 'Whitby' amended from 'Whity'.

   Page 349: "which does not show the care and thought which he bestowed
   upon its elaboration." Comma removed after 'upon'.

   Page 376: "stated anywhere, we shall now proceed to relate them.
   Thackeray was in London when Seymour shot himself in 1836." Comma
   after 'them' changed to period.

   APPENDIX V.: "Charles Lever's 'Harry Lorrequer.' 1839. (A pirated
   edition was published at Philadelphia, 1840.)" '1840' amended from



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

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

  "The work, which contains a large amount of information and some
  valuable lists of publications, is illustrated with about seventy wood
  engravings."--_Literary World._

  "A real contribution to the history of the social life of the century.
  The book is very fully and well illustrated, forming in fact quite a
  gallery of nineteenth century caricature."--_Truth._

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

  "Gives an elaborate estimate of the merits of the later caricaturists
  and a complete account of their lives."--_Graphic._

  _Published 21st October, 1812, by_ S. W. FORES, 50, _Piccadilly_.




  How they Illustrated and Interpreted their Times.

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









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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

     G. EVERITT.

  _11th August, 1893._



  Dr. Johnson's definition of the word _Caricatura_.--Francis Grose's
  definition.--Modern signification of the word.--Change in the Spirit
  of English Caricature during the last Fifty Years.--Its
  Causes.--Gillray.--Rowlandson.--Bunbury.--Influence of Gillray and
  Rowlandson on their immediate Successors.--Gradual Disappearance of
  the Coarseness of the Old Caricaturists.--Change wrought by John
  Doyle.--We have now no Caricaturist.--Effect of Wood Engraving on
  Caricature.--Hogarth, although a Satirist, not a
  Caricaturist.--Gustave Doré misdescribed a Caricaturist.--Absurdity of
  comparing him with Cruikshank.--"Etching Moralized."
     _pp._ 1-11.


  Connection of Gillray and Rowlandson with Nineteenth Century
  Caricaturists.--Napoleon Bonaparte.--The Causes of English
  Exasperation against him explained.--Sketch of his Policy towards
  England.--The "Berlin Decree."--English Caricatures brought to the
  notice of Bonaparte.--"A Political Fair."--The "Gallick Storehouse for
  English Shipping."--"Spanish Flies, or Boney taking an Immoderate
  Dose."--"Boney and his New Wife, or a Quarrel about Nothing."--Birth
  of the young King of Rome.--"British Cookery, or Out of the Frying-pan
  into the Fire."--"General Frost Shaving Boney."--"Polish Diet with
  French Dessert."--"The Corsican Blood-hound beset by the Bears of
  Russia." "Nap nearly Nab'd, or a Retreating Jump just in
  time."--"Boney Returning from Russia covered with Glory."--"Nap's
  Glorious Return."--Rowlandson's Anti-Bonaparte Caricatures.--French
  Contemporary Satires.--Gillray's Anti-Bonaparte Caricatures.--His
  Libels on Josephine.--Madame Tallien.--Robert Dighton.--Consequences
  of a Pinch of Snuff.--Master Betty--Impeachment of Lord
  Melville.--Introduction of Gas.--Mary Anne Clarke.--Imbecility and
  Death of James Gillray
     _pp._ 12-33.


  Re-opening of Drury Lane.--Dr. Busby's "Monologue."--"A Buz in a Box,
  or the Poet in a Pet."--"Doctors Differ, or Dame Nature against the
  College."--Joanna Southcott.--Flight of the Princess
  Charlotte.--"Plebeian Spirit, or Coachee and the Heiress
  Presumptive."--"Miss endeavouring to Excite a Glow with her Dutch
  Plaything."--American War of 1812-1815.--Hostile Temper of the
  Americans.--Disastrous Results of their Invasion of Canada.--English
  Retaliatory Measures.--Burning of Washington.--Expedition against
  Alexandria.--"The Fall of Washington, or Maddy in Full
  Flight."--British Defeated at Baltimore and New Orleans.--"Romeo
  Coates."--Marriage of the Princess Charlotte.--"Leap Year, or John
  Bull's Establishment."--Troubles of 1817.--Narrow Escape of the Prince
  Regent.--"More Plots!!! More Plots!!!"--Edmund Kean and Lucius Junius
  Booth.--"The Rival Richards."--Congress of the Allied Sovereigns at
  Aix-la-Chapelle.--"A Russian Dandy at Home: a Scene at
  Aix-la-Chapelle."--"A Peep at the Pump Room, or the Zomerzetshire
  Folks in a Maze."--Death of Queen Charlotte.--"The Hambourg
  Waltz."--Invention of the Kaleidoscope.--"Caleidoscopes, or Paying
  for Peeping."--The Velocipede or "Hobby."--"The Spirit Moving the
  Quakers upon Worldly Vanities."--"John Bull in Clover," and "John Bull
  Done Over."--Birth of the Princess Victoria.--"A Scene in the New
  Farce, called The Rivals, or a Visit to the Heir Presumptive."
     _pp._ 34-61.


  Caroline of Brunswick.--Levity of her Character.--Result of the
  Commission to Inquire into her Conduct in 1806.--Her Letter to the
  Regent.--Result of the Commission of 1813.--Caroline rebels.--Wrath of
  Lord Ellenborough.-"A Key to the Investigation, or Iago distanced by
  odds."--Refusal of the Regent to meet her in 1814.--Her
  Protest.--Applies for Permission to Travel Abroad.--Rumours
  prejudicial to her Moral Conduct.--"Paving the way for a Royal
  Divorce."--The Milan Commission.--Ministers averse to the Prosecution
  of the Queen.--Their False Step.--Arrival of Caroline in
  London.--Opening of the "Green Bag."--Arrival of the
  Witnesses.--Strange Appearance of Caroline at the Trial.--Satire upon
  Her and her Supporters.--"City Scavengers Cleansing the London Streets
  of Impurities."--Practical Failure of the Prosecution.--"The Queen
  Caroline running down the Royal George."--"The Steward's Court of the
  Manor of Torre Devon."--Popularity of the King.--"Grand Entrance to
  Bamboozlem."--Public Events of 1822-1825.--Greek War of
  Independence.--Battle of Navarino.--"Russian Bear's Grease, or a Peep
  into Futurity."--"The Descent of the Great Bear, or the Mussulmans in
  a Quandary."--"The Nest in Danger."--"The Porte presenting a Bill of
  Indemnification."--"Burking old Mrs. Constitution, aged
  141."--Caricature Declines after 1830, and why.--William Heath and
  other Caricaturists of the Period.--Theodore Lane.
     _pp._ 62-88.


  Caricatures of Robert Cruikshank.--Forgotten, and why.--Artistic
  Training--"The Mother's Girl Plucking a Crow, or German Flesh and
  English Spirit."--"The Horse Marine and his Trumpeter in a
  Squall."--Queer Fashions of the early part of the
  Century.--Thackeray's Difficulty.--Caricatures on the "Dandies" of
  1818.--Robert and his Fellow-Caricaturists ridicule the sham
  "Corinthians" and "Corinthian Kates" of their day.--Hollow Pretensions
  of the "Dandies."--"The Dandy Dressing at Home" and "The Dandy
  Dressed."--"A Dandyess."--Robert's Satires on the "Dandies" of
  1819.--"The Mysterious Fair One, or the Royal Introduction to the
  Circassian Beauty."--Other Caricatures of his of 1819.--His Satires on
  the Trial of Queen Caroline.--His Caricatures of 1821.--Duel between
  the Dukes of Bedford and Buckingham.--Other Satires by him in
  1822.--Interference of Louis XVIII. in Spanish Affairs.--Robert's
  Satires on Louis and his Son.--"The Golden Ball."--Other Caricatures
  by Robert in 1823.--The Tenth Hussars.--Maria Foote and "Pea-green
  Hayne."--Other satires by Robert in 1824.--Colonel Fitz-Bastard and
  Mr. Judge.--Cox _v._ Kean.--Sir Walter Scott.--"The Living
  Skeleton."--Popple and Stockdale.--Other Subjects of
     _pp._ 89-108.


  Book Illustrations of Isaac Robert Cruikshank.--The "Life in
  London."--Injustice done to Robert with reference to this Book.--The
  "Life" Dramatized.--Excitement it Occasioned.--The Portly Stranger in
  the Duke's Box.--Queer Visitors at Rehearsal.--Horror of the Serious
  People.--The Mistake which they made.--"The Finish."--Pierce Egan's
  Position with reference to the "Life."--Origin of "Bell's Life in
  London."--Charles Molloy Westmacott.--"The English Spy."--"The
  Oppidans' Museum."--The "King at Home."--Rowlandson's contribution to
  "The English Spy."--Westmacott and the Literature of Foote and
  Hayne.--Robert's Carelessness.--"Points of Misery."--"Doings in
  London."--"Cruikshank's Comic Album."--"Monsieur
  Nong-tong-paw."--Three Books Illustrated by Robert.--Death.
     _pp._ 109-124.


  Caricatures of George Cruikshank.--"No Plan, no Ambition."--The
  Assertion Disproved.--Why George's Caricatures possess so remarkable
  an Interest.--"The Scourge."--Lord Sidmouth's Bill to amend the
  Toleration Act.--Opposition to the Measure by the
  Nonconformists.--George's Satire upon them.--Satire upon the Medical
  Profession.--"The Satirist, or Monthly Meteor."--"Fashion."--"The
  Loyalists' Magazine."--An Early Satire.--"Meditations amongst the
  Tombs."--Other Satires of 1813.--"Little Boney gone to
  Pot."--Alexander of Russia and the Duchess of Oldenburg.--The Princess
  Caroline.--Joanna Southcott.--The Obnoxious Corn Laws of
  1815.--Satires thereon.--Escape of Napoleon.--Outlawed by the
  Powers.--Excitement caused by this Event.--George's Satires
  thereon.--Napoleon endeavours to Establish Friendly Relations.--Silent
  Hostility of Europe.--He Sets out for the Army.--George's Satire
  thereon.--Surrender of Bonaparte.--The _Bellerophon_ off the English
  Coast.--Other Satires of 1815.--The Regent's Repugnance to
  Retrenchment and Reform.--Marriage of the Princess Charlotte.--Satire
  on the Purchase of the "Elgin Marbles."--Other Satires of 1816.--John
  Bull's Bankruptcy Proceedings.--Remanded for Extravagance.--His
  "Schedule."--Seditious Troubles of 1817.--A Satire on the Princess
  Caroline.--Death of the Princess Charlotte.--Other Satires of 1817--of
  1818.--The "Bank Restriction Note."--Satires of 1819.--Queen Caroline
  and other Caricatures of 1820 and 1821.--Death and Funeral of the
  Queen.--The Populace force the Procession to go through the City.--The
  Military fire on the People.--Alderman Sir William Curtis in Highland
  Costume.--Indignation of the King.--Satires on both.--Statue of
  Achilles.--Other Caricatures of 1822.--Satires of 1823 and
  1824.--Joint Stock Company Mania of 1825.--Undated Satires.--Amazing
  value of George Cruikshank's Caricatures.
     _pp._ 125-166.


  George Cruikshank as a Book Illustrator.--Defects and
  Excellencies.--Women, Horses, Trees.--"Greenwich Hospital."--Sikes and
  the Dog.--Jonathan Wild.--Simon Renard and Winwike.--"Born a Genius
  and Born a Dwarf."--Its History.--Randalph and Hilda at
  Ranelagh.--Sale of the Shadow.--Sailors Carousing.--Paying off a
  Jew.--Simpkin Dancing.--The Last Cab Driver.--Dominie
  Sampson.--Dumbiedikes.--Fall of the Leaf.--Taurus.--Libra.--Revolution
  at Madame Tussaud's.--Theatrical Fun Dinner.--"Gone!"--Duke of
  Marlborough's Boot.--The Two Elves.--Witches' Frolic.--Ghosts.--Jack
  o' Lantern.--Devils.--The Gin Shop.--Redgauntlet.--Fagin in the
  Condemned Cell.--Murder of Sir Rowland Trenchard.--Xit Wedded to the
  Scavenger's Daughter.--Mauger Sharpening his Axe.--Massacre at
  Tullabogue, etc.--His Genius.
     _pp._ 167-188.


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

     _pp._ 189-207.


  Birth of Robert Seymour.--Starts as a Painter in Oils.--Death of
  George IV.--His Contemptible Character.--Sale of his Wardrobe.--Order
  for General Mourning.--"The Adelaide Mill."--Revolution of
  1830.--Dismissal of the German Band.--St. John Long the
  Quack.--Administering an Oath.--The "Humorous Sketches."--"Book of
  Christmas."--"New Readings of Old Authors."--"Figaro in London."--À
  Beckett's Editorial Amenities.--Feud between him and Seymour.--Seymour
  Caricatures À Beckett.--"Figaro" passes into the hands of
  Mayhew.--Re-engagement of Seymour.--Origin of the "Pickwick
  Papers."--The Rejected Etching.--Suicide of Seymour.--His Claim to be
  the "Inventor" of "Pickwick" considered.
     _pp._ 208-234.


  The Agitation for Reform in 1830-32.--The Marquis of Blandford's
  Scheme of Reform.--Strange State of the English Representative System
  of those Days.--O'Connell's Scheme.--Lord John Russell's "Resolutions"
  Rejected.--Dearth of Political Caricaturists at this
  Time.--HB.--Secret of the Success of his "Political Sketches."--His
  Style a Complete Innovation.--"I'll be your Second."--Unpopularity of
  the Duke of Cumberland.--"My Dog and my Gun."--Lord John Russell
  Introduces a Reform Bill.--Second Reading Carried by a Majority of
  One.--General Election.--Lord John Russell's Second Reform Bill Passes
  the House of Commons.--Deputation to the Lords.--"Bringing up our
  Bill."--The Lords Throw it Out.--Lord John Russell again brings in a
  Bill.--Ministers again in a Minority in the Lords.--Earl Grey tenders
  certain Alternatives.--Excitement caused by the Opposition of the
  Lords.--Perplexity of the King.--How he Overcame the Opposition of the
  Peers.--William IV. as Johnny Gilpin.--The King as Mazeppa and Sinbad
  the Sailor.--Outrage on the Duke of Wellington.--"Taking an Airing in
  Hyde Park."--"Auld Lang Syne."--"A Hint to Duellists."--"A Great
  Subject Dedicated to the Royal College of Surgeons."--Sir Francis
  Burdett.--"Following the Leader."--"The Dog and the Shadow."--"A Race
  for the Westminster Stakes."--"A Fine Old English Gentleman."--"Jim
  Crow Dance and Chorus."
     _pp._ 235-253.


  Political Sketches of HB. (continued).--Lord John
  Russell.--"Jonah."--Reduction of the Stamp on Newspapers.--How it was
  evaded.--Arguments of the Opponents of the Measure.--Hard and Soft
  Soap _versus_ Newspapers.--Strange Arguments of the Newspaper
  Proprietors of the Day.--"The Rival Newsmongers."--Brougham Watches
  for the Door of Preferment being Opened.--"The Gheber Worshipping the
  Rising Sun."--Made Lord Chancellor.--"A Select Specimen of the Black
  Style."--A Scene in the House of Lords.--"The Duel that Did Not Take
  Place."--Dissolution of Parliament in 1834.--Brougham's Royal
  "Progress" through Scotland.--Annoyance of William IV., who Determines
  to Get Rid of Him.--"The Fall of Icarus."--"The Vaux and the
  Grapes."--The Irish Coercion Bill of 1833.--Irish Disaffection which
  led Up to It.--List of Irish Crimes for One Year.--Scenes between
  English and Irish Members.--"Prisoners of War."--Good Effects of the
  Coercion Bill.--Irish Agitators of 1833 and 1883 Compared.--O' Connell
  and the Irish Peasant.--Unscrupulous Political Conduct of
  O'Connell.--"The Comet of 1835."--"Doctor Syntax [_i.e._ Peel] on his
  Faithful Steed in Search of the Picturesque."--Amazing Number of HB's
  Political Sketches.--His failings.--His Imitators and their Fate.
     _pp._ 254-276.


  John Leech.--Birth.--At Charterhouse.--The "Coach Tree."--Early
  Efforts in Drawing brought to the notice of Flaxman.--Apprenticed to
  Whittle, an Eccentric Medical Man.--Transfer of Leech's
  Indentures.--Early Work.--Applies to Illustrate "Pickwick."--Style not
  Matured till 1840.--An Attack on Dickens.--Attack on "Phiz."--Attack
  on D'Israeli.--"Bentley's Miscellany."--Joins _Punch_.--Marriage.--The
  "Right-hand Man in Punch's Cabinet."--"Illuminated
  Magazine."--Portraits of Leech in _Punch_.--Douglas Jerrold and Albert
  Smith.--Douglas Jerrold and À Beckett.--Leech at a Fancy Ball.--Albert
  Smith and the Wide-awake Innkeepers at Chamounix.--George Cruikshank
  Borrowing from Leech.--Influence of Cruikshank on Leech.--The Two
  Compared.--Abhorrence of Frenchmen.--Mistake in "The Battle of Life."
     _pp._ 277-293.


  John Leech's _Punch_ Cartoons.--The "Albert" Hat.--O'Connell.--Sir
  James Graham.--"Peel's Dirty Little Boy."--"How do you Like the New
  Whig?"--"The Premier's Fix."--"The Railway Juggernaut."--Between Free
  Trade and Protection Sir Robert Peel falls through.--"Dombey and
  Son."--Lord Brougham "in order."--Smithfield.--Louis Philippe.--The
  Year of Unrest, 1848.--French Expedition to Rome.--"A Bright
  Idea."--General Haynau and Barclay & Perkins' Draymen.--"Joe"
  Hume.--The "Papal Aggression" Cartoons.--"The Boy who Chalked up 'No
  Popery' and then Ran Away."--Great Exhibition of 1851.--The _Coup
  d'état_.--The Peace Society.--"The Old 'Un and the Young 'Un."--War
  with Russia.--Evils of the Purchase System.--Generals _Janvier_ and
  _Fevrier_.--"The Return from Vienna."--Incapacity of English
  Generals.--"Urgent Private Affairs."--"Staying Proceedings."--The
  Royal Levées.--The French Colonels.--"Religion _à la mode_."--Fête at
  Cremorne.--Plots against the French Emperor, and their
  Consequences.--"Invasion of French Light Wines."
     _pp._ 294-314.


  Exhibition of Leech's "Sketches in Oil" at the Egyptian Hall in
  1862.--What Thackeray said of them.--Gradual Decrease in the Numbers
  of his Cartoons for _Punch_.--Overwork.--Goes to the Continent with
  Mark Lemon in 1862.--"A day at Biarritz."--Returns with no
  Benefit.--Leech and Thackeray at Evans's in December, 1863.--Thackeray
  and Leech at Charterhouse on "Founder's Day."--Thackeray at the
  Wednesday _Punch_ Dinner, 15th of December, 1863.--Death of
  Thackeray.--Death of Mr. R. W. Surtees.--The _Punch_ Council
  Dinners.--John Leech a faithful Attendant.--"Moses Starting for the
  Fair."--John Leech's Illness described.--No Falling off in the Quality
  of his Designs.--"St. Genulphus."--Starts off for Homburg with Mr.
  Alfred Elmore.--Death of Thomas Frederick Robson.--His Wonderful
  Powers Wasted.--Leech goes to Whitby.--Shirley Brooks joins him.--"The
  Weinbrunnen Schwalbach."--Reminiscences of the Whitby Visit.--Opening
  of Fechter's Season at the Lyceum.--John Leech at a Party at Mr. W. P.
  Frith's, 13th of October--At the Weekly _Punch_ Dinner, 26th of
  October.--Serious Change for the Worse.--His Death.--Shock caused by
  his Death in London and the Provinces.--His Funeral.--Shirley Brooks'
  Memorial in _Punch_.
     _pp._ 315-335.


  Hablot Knight Browne ("Phiz").--Invincible Tendency to
  Exaggeration.--Charles Lever's Opinion.--Weakness and Attenuation of
  his Figures.--Compared with John Leech.--Tendency to Reproduce.--All
  his Heroes closely Resemble One Another.--Charles Lever's Complaint on
  this Score.--Great Ability of the Artist.--"Ralph Nickleby's Visit to
  his Poor Relations."--Newman Noggs.--Squeers.--Mrs. Nickleby's Lunatic
  Admirer.--"Pecksniff's Reception of the New Pupil."--"Pleasant Little
  Family Party at Mr. Pecksniff's."--"Warm Reception of Mr. Pecksniff by
  his Venerable Friend."--Quilp and Samson Brass.--Quilp and the
  Dog.--Mrs. Jarley's Waxwork Brigand.--Capture of Bunsby by Mrs.
  Macstinger.--"Sunday under Three Heads."--The Jack Sheppard Mania of
  1840.--"The Way to the Gallows made Easy and Pleasant."--"Phiz" not a
  Born Comic Artist.--Excellence in Depicting Graver Subjects.--"The
  Dombey Family."--"Mrs. Dombey at Home."--"Abstraction and
  Recognition."--"The Dark Road."--"Carker in his Hour of
  Triumph."--"Bleak House."--Why Browne suited Charles Dickens's
  Requirements.--Coolness between Artist and Author.--One of Browne's
  Finest Illustrations.--Decline of Book Etching.--Browne without an
  Idea of his Own.--Powerful Assistance rendered to Novelists by Book
  Illustrators of his day.--Sketches and Studies.--Death of the Artist.
     _pp._ 336-354.


  Kenny Meadows.--"Portraits of the English."--A Thoroughly Useful
  Man.--Some Works Illustrated by Meadows.--His Merits Unequal.--His
  Contempt for Nature.--An Early Illustrator of _Punch_.--His
  Illustrated Shakespeare.--Some Excellent Work of Meadows.--His
  Death.--Robert William Buss.--Recommended to Illustrate "Pickwick" on
  Seymour's Death.--Etchings Suppressed.--The "Buss Plates" not his at
  all.--His Paintings.--Lectures on Caricature and Graphic
  Satire.--Comic Publications which preceded or ran side by side with
  _Punch_.--Alfred William Forrester (Alfred Crowquill).--"A General
  Utility Man."--Crowquill a Caricaturist.--His Talent and
  Cleverness.--Some of His Paintings.--Charles H.
  Bennett.--"Shadows."--"Shadow and Substance."--"Origin of
  Species."--Taken on the _Punch_ Staff.--Early Death.--Theatrical
  Performances for the Benefit of his Family.--Kate Terry.--Thackeray as
  a Comic Artist.--Satire on Charles Lever.--Unfitted to Illustrate his
  own Novels, and why.--His Genius Displayed in Literature not in
  Art.--Illustrations to "Vanity Fair" Considered.--Anthony Trollope on
  this Subject.
     _pp._ 355-380.


  First Work of Richard Doyle.--Receives his Art Training from his
  Father.--Joins _Punch_.--The Peace-at-any-Price Party.--The Troubles
  of 1848.--The Sea-Serpent of Revolution Upsetting the Monarchical
  Cock-boats.--Lord Brougham.--Richard Doyle's Dream of the Future of
  Ireland.--The Window Tax.--"Manners and Customs of Ye Englishe."--"The
  Month" upon Exeter Hall.--Establishment of the Papal Hierarchy in
  England.--The Causes of Doyle's Retirement from _Punch_
  Explained.--Unselfishness of His Conduct.--Ultimate Consequences on
  his Prospects.--Number of his _Punch_ Illustrations.--Caricatures of
  Richard Doyle.--"Brown, Jones, and Robinson."--Works Illustrated by
  Doyle.--Mr. Hamerton's Criticism on his Illustrations to "The
  Newcomes."--His Death.--John Tenniel.--Joins _Punch_ at the
  Commencement of Troublous Times.--Death of the Duke of
  Wellington.--Battle of Oltenitza.--Lord Aberdeen as the "Courier of
  St. Petersburg."--Lord Aberdeen tries to Hold in the British
  Lion.--England the Unready.--"Peace" Seated on the Garrison
  Gun.--_Punch's_ Low Estimate of the Third Napoleon.--An "International
  Poultry Show."--"The Eagle in Love."--"Playing with Edged Tools."--"An
  Unpleasant Neighbour."--Louis Closes his Firework Shop "to please
  Johnny."--Miss Britannia Refuses to Dance again with Louis.--Mr.
  Tenniel one of the most Versatile of Modern Designers.--Examples of
  his Graphic Satire.--Notice of his Cartoons Closes with 1864, in
  Accordance with the Plan of the Work.--His Comic Powers.
     _pp._ 381-400.



    A BUZZ IN A BOX      _Frontispiece_
    _From Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._

    GRAND ENTRANCE TO BAMBOOZLEM                                81
    _From Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._

    _From Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._

    A PEEP IN THE PUMP ROOM                                     57
    _From Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._


    "CREEPING LIKE A SNAIL"                                    371
    _From Original Woodblock in possession of the Publishers._

    OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW BETTER                                  372
    _From Original Woodblock in possession of the Publishers._


    THE DEPARTURE                                              336

    DICK SWIVELLER AND THE LODGER                              340

    THE RIOTERS                                                346

    SAM WELLER AND HIS FATHER                                  352
    _Woodcut Reproductions of the Original Sketches._


    INTERIOR OF A BARBER'S SHOP                                  5

    SALUTATION TAVERN                                           11

    STREPHON AND CHLOE                                          11
    _By Permission of Messrs. Chatto & Windus._


    FROZEN OUT GARDENERS                                       368

    "SWEARING THE HORNS" AT HIGHGATE                           369
    _Both by permission of Messrs. W. & R. Chambers._


    ABSENT-MINDEDNESS                                          175

    BAT BOROO                                                  175

    THE BRAINTREES                                             171

    THE DEAF POSTILION                                         171

    THE DENTIST                                                175

    THE ELVES AND THE COBBLER                                  180
    _Above six by permission of Messrs. Geo. Bell & Sons._

    THE GIN SHOP                                               184
    _From Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._

    THE OLD COMMODORE                                          182
    _By permission of Messrs. Geo. Routledge & Son._

    RUSSIAN CONDESCENSION                                      133
    _From Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._

    A SCENE IN KENSINGTON GARDENS                              152
    _From Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._

    "A TALL FIGURE HER SIGHT ENGROSSED"                        182
    _By permission of Messrs. Geo. Routledge & Son._

    THE TÊTE-A-TÊTE                                            175

    THE WAITS OF BREMEN                                        180

    THE WITCH'S SWITCH                                         175
    _Above three by permission of Messrs. Geo. Bell & Sons._


    JOHN BULL FLOURISHING                                       99
    _Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._

    CUTS FROM "THE UNIVERSAL SONGSTER"                         110
    _By permission of Messrs. Geo. Routledge & Son._


    THE ABBOT OF MARMOUSTIERS                                    8

    THE LANDLORD OF THE THREE BARBELS                            9

    MONSEIGNEUR HUGON                                            9

    SERJEANT-OF-THE-JUSTICE TAUPIN                               8
    _Above four by permission of Messrs. Chatto & Windus._


    A CONNOISSEUR                                               24

    THE GOUT                                                     5

    A LESSON IN APPLE DUMPLINGS                                 24

    NAPOLEONIC CARICATURES                                  18, 20

    THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY                                       26

    A PEEP AT CHRISTIE'S                                        14

    ROYAL AFFABILITY                                            24
    _Above seven by permission of Messrs. Chatto & Windus._

    SHAKESPEARE SACRIFICED                                      12
    _Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._

    TWOPENNY WHIST                                              16
    _By permission of Messrs. Chatto & Windus._


    MARRIAGE À LA MODE                                           7
    _Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Sketch._


    THE GALLERY                                                 85

    THE NON-PAYING AUDIENCE                                     85
    _Woodcut Reproductions of the Original Sketches._


    THE ELECTION                                               286

    "I HOPE, MR. SMUG, YOU DON'T BEAT YOUR BOYS!"              292



    "ALL THE TALENTS"                                            3

    "ANYTHING WILL DO FOR AN OFFICER"                            2

    THE COBBLER'S CURE FOR A SCOLDING WIFE                      29

    DESIRE                                                      11

    SPITFIRES                                                   28

    TRUMPET AND BASSOON                                          2
    _Above six by permission of Messrs. Chatto & Windus._


    A MOUNTEBANK PAINTER                                         7
    _By permission of Messrs. Chatto & Windus._


    THE ADELAIDE MILL                                          213
    _Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Caricature._

    THE DYING CLOWN                                            233
    _Woodcut Reproduction of the Original Sketch._


    ANGELICA ARRIVES JUST IN TIME                              379
    _By permission of Messrs. Smith, Elder & Co._

    BROWN, JONES, AND ROBINSON                                 392
    _By permission of Messrs. Bradbury, Agnew & Co._

    GRUFFANUFF                                                 378
    _By permission of Messrs. Smith, Elder & Co._

    MARGINAL SKETCHES (2)                                      375
    _By permission of Messrs. Chatto & Windus._

    MONKS OF THE ORDER OF FLAGELLANTS                          378

    PRINCE BULBO                                               378
    _Both by permission of Messrs. Smith, Elder & Co._


    DESIRE                                                      11

    "GENERAL COMPLAINT"                                         11
    _Both by permission of Messrs. Chatto & Windus._

  "_The Farthing Rushlight._"


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

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





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

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



  ROWLANDSON. _January 1st, 1796._


  "What shall we do with him?"

  "Do with him? Why, make an officer of him!"

  _Face p. 2._]


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

  T. ROWLANDSON. _April 13th, 1807._


  The "Broad-Bottom Administration," known as "All the Talents," showing
  the several qualifications of the Ministry.

  _Face p. 3._]


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

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


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


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

  JAMES GILLRAY. _May 14th, 1799._

  "THE GOUT."]

  W. H. BUNBURY, _etched by_ GILLRAY. _1811, pubd. May 15th, 1818._


  _Face p. 5_]

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


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

  W. HOGARTH. "_Mariage à la Mode._"]

  PAUL SANDBY. _Anti-Hogarthian Caricature._

  "A Mountebank Painter demonstrating to his admirers and subscribers
  that crookedness is y^e most beautifull."

  _Face p. 7._]


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


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

  GUSTAVE DORÉ. _From "Contes Drolatiques."_


  GUSTAVE DORÉ. _From "Contes Drolatiques."_


  _Back to p. 8._]

  GUSTAVE DORÉ. _From "Contes Drolatiques."_


  GUSTAVE DORÉ. _From "Contes Drolatiques."_


  _Back to p. 9._]


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

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

  "Prepared by a hand that is skilful and nice,
  The fine point glides along like a skate on the ice,
        At the will of the gentle designer,
  Who, impelling the needle, just presses so much,
  That each line of her labour _the copper may touch_,
        As if done by a penny-a-liner.

       *       *       *       *       *

  Certain objects however may come in your sketch,
  Which, designed by a hand unaccustomed to etch,
        With a luckless result may be branded;
  Wherefore add this particular rule to your code,
  Let all vehicles take the _wrong_ side of the road,
        And man, woman, and child be _left-handed_.

  Yet regard not the awkward appearance with doubt,
  But remember how often mere blessings fall out,
        That at first seemed no better than curses:
  So, till _things take a turn_, live in hope, and depend
  That whatever is wrong will come right in the end,
        And console you for all your _reverses_.

       *       *       *       *       *

  But the acid has duly been lower'd and bites
  Only just where the visible metal invites,
        Like a nature inclined to meet troubles;
  And behold as each slender and glittering line
  Effervesces, you trace the completed design
        In an elegant bead-work of bubbles.

       *       *       *       *       *

  But before with the varnishing brush you proceed,
  Let the plate with cold water be thoroughly freed
        From the other less innocent liquor;
  After which, on whatever you want to protect,
  Put a _coat_ that will act to that very effect,
        Like the black one which hangs on the vicar.

  Then the varnish well dried--urge the biting again,
  But how long, at its meal, the _eau forte_ may remain,
        Time and practice alone can determine:
  But of course not so long that the mountain, and mill,
  The rude bridge, and the figures--whatever you will--
        Are as black as the spots on your ermine.

  It is true, none the less, that a dark looking scrap,
  With a sort of Blackheath and Black Forest, mayhap,
        Is considered as rather Rembrandty;
  And that very black cattle and very black sheep,
  A black dog, and a shepherd as black as a sweep,
        Are the pets of some great _dilettante_.

       *       *       *       *       *

  But before your own picture arrives at that pitch,
  While the lights are still light, and the shadows, though rich.
        More transparent than ebony shutters,
  Never minding what Black-Arted critics may say,
  Stop the biting, and pour the green blind away,
        As you please, into bottles or gutters.

  Then removing the ground and the wax _at a heat_,
  Cleanse the surface with oil, spermaceti or sweet--
        For your hand a performance scarce proper--
  So some careful professional person secure,
  For the laundress will not be a safe amateur,
        To assist you in _cleaning the copper_.

       *       *       *       *       *

  Thus your etching complete, it remains but to hint
  That with certain assistance from paper and print,
        Which the proper mechanic will settle,
  You may charm all your friends--without any sad tale
  Of such perils and ills as beset Lady Sale--
        With a fine _India Proof of your metal_."[8]

  WOODWARD, _engr. by_ ROWLANDSON. _"Desire," Jan. 20th, 1800._


  W. H. BUNBURY. _"Strephon and Chloe," July 1st, 1804._


  W. H. BUNBURY. _"The Salutation Tavern," July 21st, 1801._


  G. M. WOODWARD. _"General Complaint," May 5th, 1796._

  "Don't tell me of generals raised from mere boys,
  Though, believe me, I mean not their laurel to taint;
  But the general, I'm sure, that will make the most noise,
  If the war still goes on, will be General Complaint."

  _Face p. 11._]


  [1] "Nor London singly can his porter boast,
       Alike 'tis famed on every foreign coast;
       For this the Frenchman leaves his Bordeaux wine,
       And pours libations at our Thames's shrine;
       Afric retails it 'mongst her swarthy sons,
       And haughty Spain procures it for her Dons.
       Wherever Britain's powerful flag has flown,
       there London's celebrated porter's known."

    --_The Art of Living in London_ (6th edition 1805).

  [2] One quotation shall suffice. Mr. William Bates tells us in his
    admirable "Maclise Portrait Gallery":--"He _never_ transgressed the
    narrow line that separates wit from buffoonery, pandered to
    sensuality, glorified vice or raised a laugh at the expense of
    decency. Satire _never_ in his hands degenerated into savagery or
    scurrility. A moral purpose _ever_ underlaid his humour; he sought
    to instruct or improve when he amused." Mr. Bates will, we hope,
    pardon us if we say that this is not quite the fact. George
    Cruikshank in truth was no better or worse than his satirical
    brothers, and his tone necessarily improved from the moment he took
    to illustrating books.

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

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

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

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

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

  [8] Thomas Hood's "Etching Moralized," in _New Monthly Magazine_, 1843,
    vol. lxvii. p. 4, and _seq._




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

  JAMES GILLRAY. _June 20th, 1789._


  Alderman Boydell, as High Priest within the magic circle, preparing an
  oblation to Shakspeare; the demon of Avarice, seated upon the List of
  Subscribers, hugging his money-bags; Puck on his shoulders blowing
  bubbles of "immortality" to the promoter of the "Gallery" about to be
  published. Shakespeare himself, obscured by the Aldermanic fumes.
  Figures of Shakspearean characters above.

  _Face p. 12._]

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


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

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


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

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

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

  JAMES GILLRAY. _Sept., 1796._


  A study of Lord Derby and Miss Farren (the actress), a few months
  before their marriage, enjoying the Fine Arts, he studying "The Death
  of Reynard," she "Zenocrates and Phryne."

  _Face p. 14._]


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

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

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

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


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

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

  JAMES GILLRAY. _January 11th, 1796._


  Mistress Humphrey and Betty, of St. James' Street, their neighbour
  Mortimer (a well-known picture dealer) and a German guest.

  [A satire, by contrast, on the high stakes of "White's" and

  _Face p. 16._]


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

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

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


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


  "Ha, my little Boney! what dost think of Johnny Bull now? Plunder Old
  England, hay? Make French slaves of us all, hay? Ravish all our wives
  and daughters, hay? O, Lord help that silly head! To think that Johnny
  Bull would ever suffer those lanthorn jaws to become King of Old
  England's Roast Beef and Plum Pudding!"]


  BONAPARTE--"I'm a-coming! I'm a-coming!"

  JOHN BULL--"You're a-coming!
            If you mean to invade us, why make such a route?
            I say, Little Boney,--why don't you come out?
            Yes, d---- you, why don't you come out?"


  _Face p. 18._]


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

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


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





  _Face p. 20._]

The year 1809 witnessed the divorce from Josephine, and the marriage of
the emperor to Marie Louise. The purposes for which this matrimonial
alliance was effected were made no secret of by the emperor, and were
indicated of course in the plainest possible terms by the English
contemporary caricaturists, who were certainly not troubled with any
unnecessary scruples of prudery or delicacy. One of these satires,
published by Tegg, on the 16th of August, 1810, is entitled _Boney and
his New Wife, or a Quarrel about Nothing_, and indicates in the plainest
possible terms that the purposes for which the divorce had been effected
were as distant as ever. The result of this union, however, was the
birth of the young king of Rome on the 20th of March, 1810, an event
which set the pencils of our pictorial satirists once more in motion,
and the young heir and his father were complimented by Rowlandson in a
rough caricature, published by Tegg on the 9th of April, 1811, as _Boney
the Second, the little Babboon [sic] created to devour French Monkies_.


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


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

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


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

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


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

  GILLRAY. _"Royal Affability," Feb. 10th._

  "Well, friend, where a' you going, hay? What's your name, hay? Where
  do you live, hay?--hay?"]

  GILLRAY. _Connoisseur examining a Cooper June 18th, 1792._


  GILLRAY. _"A Lesson in Apple Dumplings."_

  "Hay? hay? apple dumplings?--how get the apples in?--how? Are they
  made without seams?"

  _Face p. 24._]

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



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

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

       *       *       *       *       *

  JAMES GILLRAY.  _June 28th, 1791._


  1. BARBER--"De King is escape! de King is escape!"

  2. COOK.--"Aha! be gar, de King is retaken!! Aha! Monsieur Lewis is
  retaken, aha!!"

  [_The French Revolution._]

  _Face p. 26._]


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

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


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

  "Though now, thank Heaven! the Rosciomania's o'er,
   And full-grown actors are endured once more."[16]

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

  T. ROWLANDSON. _October 25th, 1810._


  _Back to p. 28._]


  T. ROWLANDSON. 1813.


  _Back to p. 29._]


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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

  [10] _London Chronicle_, December 6th, 1806.

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

  [12] See also Gillray's cartoon of 1st October, 1807, _British Tars
    towing the Danish Fleet into Harbour_.

  [13] See vol. ii., p. 92, _et seq._

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

  [15] O'Meara, vol. i, p. 250.

  [16] "English Bards and Scotch Reviewers."

  [17] According to Mr. Grego, £2,000.




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

  "When energizing objects men pursue,
   What are the prodigies they cannot do?"


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

  "A Lord and a Doctor once started for Fame,
     Which for the best poet should pass;
   The Lord was cried up on account of his name,
     The Doctor cried down for _an ass_."

  "Doctor Buz, he assures us, on Drury's new stage
   No horses or elephants there should engage;
   But pray, Doctor Buz, how comes it to pass,
   That you your own self should produce there an ass?"

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


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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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

These events are referred to in a pictorial satire (published by Fores
on the 4th of October, 1814), entitled, _The Fall of Washington, or
Maddy_ [_i.e._, President Madison] _in full flight_:--

  "Death of thy soul those linen cheeks of thine
   Are counsellors to fear."


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

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


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

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


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

  _Published March, 1816, by S. W. FORES, 50, Piccadilly._


  "When two ride upon a horse, one must ride behind."

  _Face p. 50._]


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


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


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

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

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


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


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

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

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


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

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

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

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

  "It is said that the head of the forces allied,
     Not having a coat to his back,
   A generous monarch the needful supplied;
   And when thus equipped, they sat down side by side,
     To drink their champagne and their sack.
   Now, doubtless this hero of wonderful note,
     Had the monarch allowed him to choose,
   Would have bartered the honour to sit in his coat,
     For the pleasure to stand in his shoes."


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

  _Published February, 1818, by_ S. W. FORES, _50, Piccadilly_


  _Face p. 57._]

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

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


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

  "'Tis the favourite plaything of school-boy and sage,
   Of the baby in arms and the baby of age;
   Of the grandam whose sight is at best problematical,
   And of the soph who explains it by rule mathematical.

   Such indeed is the rage for them, chapel or church in,
   You see them about you, and each little urchin
   Finding a sixpence, with transport beside his hope,
   Runs to the tin-man and makes a caleidoscope!"

  1819. THE HOBBY.

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


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

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


  [18] The new Alhambra.

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

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

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

  [22] Apparently by Williams.




As in 1809 a revengeful and unscrupulous woman had succeeded in exposing
the reputation of a member of the Royal family to public opprobrium, so,
in like manner, in 1820, a woman, and no less a person in this instance
than a titular queen of England, was the means of dragging the crown
itself through the mire of a disreputable scandal. That Caroline of
Brunswick was an uncongenial and unfitting consort; that she was an
utterly unfit and improper person to occupy the exalted position of
Queen of England, there can be no manner of doubt. But to the question
whether it was wise, politic, or dignified to subject her conduct
(however morally criminal) to the reproach of a public investigation,
there can be but one answer.

The marriage of Caroline, daughter of Charles, Duke of
Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, with George, Prince of Wales, was solemnized on
the 8th of April, 1795. Exactly one year afterwards, and three months
after the birth of their child, the Princess Charlotte, the pair
separated. The separation was effected at the instance of the prince,
and the reasons for his wishing to live apart from her are assigned in a
letter which he sent her Royal Highness through Lord Cholmondeley: "Our
_inclinations_," he told her, "are not in our own power; nor should
either be answerable to the other because nature has not made us
suitable to each other. Tranquil and comfortable society is, however, in
our power; let our intercourse therefore be restricted to _that_."

Sixty years have elapsed since this miserable woman died, and we who are
no longer biassed by the political leanings which more or less
influenced those who regarded her with favour or prejudice, are enabled
to consider the circumstances from a fair and dispassionate point of
view. In order that the reader may form his own conclusions of her
character and disposition, we prefer to quote authorities whose
political sympathies were distinctly favourable to her cause. Writing of
his grandmother, Lady de Clifford (governess of the Princess Charlotte),
Lord Albermarle tells us: "She [Lady de Clifford] used often to recount
to me the events of her court life. The behaviour of the Princess of
Wales (this was before she left England) naturally came under review. I
fear that the judgment she formed of the conduct of this much sinned
against and sinning lady coincides but too closely with the verdict that
public opinion has since passed upon her. To Lady de Clifford she was
the source of constant anxiety and annoyance. Often, when in obedience
to the king's [George III.] commands, my grandmother took her young
charge to the Charlton Villa, the Princess of Wales would behave with a
_levity of manner and language that the presence of her child and her
child's governess were insufficient to restrain_. On more than one
occasion, Lady de Clifford was obliged to threaten her with making such
a representation to the king as would tend to deprive her altogether of
the Princess Charlotte's society. These remonstrances were always taken
in good part, and produced promises of amendment."[23] The Hon. Amelia
Murray tells us in her "Recollections from 1803 to 1837": "There was
about this period an extravagant _furore_ in the cause of the Princess
of Wales. She was considered an ill-treated woman, and that was enough
to arouse popular feeling. My brother was among the young men who helped
to give her an ovation at the opera. A few days afterwards he went to
breakfast at a place near Woolwich. There he saw the princess, in a
gorgeous dress, which was looped up to show her petticoat covered with
stars, with silver wings on her shoulders, sitting under a tree, _with a
pot of porter on her knee_; and as a finale to the gaiety, she had the
doors opened of every room in the house, and selecting a partner, she
galloped through them, desiring all the guests to follow her example! It
may be guessed whether the gentlemen were anxious to clap her at the
opera again." Now this was the personage whom certain classes of the
community persisted in regarding, sixty years ago, as a royal martyr.
Small as is the respect or esteem which we owe to the memory of George
the Fourth, we may almost sympathise with him when he calls such a
consort "uncongenial."

A person so little fitted for the high position which she occupied was
certain to give trouble; and as far back as 1806, her indiscreet conduct
had induced the king [George III.] to grant a commission to Lords
Spencer, Grenville, Erskine, and Ellenborough, to examine into the truth
of certain allegations which had been made against her; and, although
their report expressed the most unqualified opinion that the graver
charges were utterly destitute of foundation, such report, nevertheless,
concluded with some strictures made by the commissioners "on the levity
of manners displayed by the princess on certain occasions."[24] In
consequence of this official report, the intercourse between the
Princess of Wales and her daughter, the Princess Charlotte, was
subjected to regulation and restraint; they were allowed at first a
single weekly interview, which, for some doubtless sufficient reason,
was afterwards reduced to a fortnightly meeting.[25]

While pitying the mother, we seem scarcely justified in assuming, with
our present knowledge of her obstinate nature and disposition, that
these restrictions were imposed without some just and sufficient reason.
It would seem to have come to the knowledge of the Princess Caroline in
1813, that the interdiction was intended "to be still more rigidly
enforced,"[26] for on the 14th of January of that year we find that she
wrote a letter to the Prince Regent, in which she complained that the
separation of mother and daughter was equally injurious to her own
character and to the education of her child. Adverting to the
restricted intercourse between them, she observed that in the eyes of
the world, "this separation of a daughter from her mother would only
admit ... of a construction fatal to the mother's reputation. Your Royal
Highness," she continued, "will pardon me for adding that there is no
less inconsistency than injustice in this treatment. He who dares advise
your Highness to overlook the evidence of my innocence, and disregard
the sentence of complete acquittal which it [_i.e._ the inquiry of 1806]
produced--or is wicked and false enough still to whisper suspicions in
your ear, betrays his duty to you, sir, to your daughter, and to your
people, if he counsels you to permit a day to pass _without a further
investigation of my conduct_.... Let me implore you to reflect on the
situation in which I am placed, without the shadow of a charge against
me, without even an accuser after an inquiry that led to my ample
vindication, yet treated as if I were still more culpable _than the
perjuries of my suborned traducers represented me_, and held up to the
world as a mother who may not enjoy the society of her only child."

No possible objection can be taken to this letter; indeed, by whomsoever
it was penned, taken altogether it was an admirable composition. If,
however, we are to credit the statement of Mr. Whitbread, made in the
House on the 5th of March, 1813, it was thrice returned to the writer
unopened. But the princess, as we shall find, was not a person to be
intimidated by any amount of rebuffs. "At length that letter [we quote
Mr. Whitbread] was read to him [the Prince Regent], and the cold answer
returned was, that ministers had received no commands on the
subject."[27] The letter found its way into the public prints, and then,
and not till then, if we are to believe Mr. Whitbread, his Royal
Highness directed that the whole of the documents, together with her
Royal Highness's communications to himself, should be referred to
certain members of the Privy Council, who were to report to him their
opinion, "whether under all the circumstances ... it was fit and proper
that the intercourse between the Princess of Wales and her daughter ...
should continue to be, subject to regulations and restrictions."[28]

In their report, which was presented on the 19th of February, the
commissioners stated that "they had taken into their most serious
consideration, together with the other papers referred to by His Royal
Highness, all the documents relative to the inquiry instituted in 1806 ...
into the truth of certain representations respecting ... the Princess of
Wales; and, that after full examination of all the documents before them,
they were of opinion, that under all the circumstances of the case, it was
highly fit and proper, with a view to the welfare of ... the Princess
Charlotte ... and the most important interests of the State, that the
intercourse between ... the Princess of Wales and the ... Princess
Charlotte should continue to be subject to regulation and restraint."

It was only natural, of course, that Caroline should rebel; and she
accordingly wrote on the 1st of March a letter to the Speaker,
protesting against the mode in which this second inquiry had been
conducted. Motions on her behalf were afterwards brought forward
successively in the House by Mr. Cockrane Johnson and Mr. Whitbread,
both of which, however, fell to the ground. The remarks made by Mr.
Whitbread provoked a speech in the House of Lords from Lord Ellenborough
(who had been a member of both commissions), which is singularly
illustrative of the habits and manners of the time. After an
introduction of great solemnity, his lordship said, "that, in the case
alluded to, the persons intrusted with the commission [of 1806] were
charged with having fabricated an unauthorised document, purporting to
relate what was not given in evidence, and to suppress what was given.
This accusation," said his lordship, "is as false as h---- in every
particular." He then proceeded to give an account of the mode in which
everything had been taken down from the mouth of the witness, and
afterwards read over to and subscribed by her.[29] He concluded his
peculiarly energetic speech by again denying, in the most positive
terms, the truth of the imputation which had been cast upon the

The inquiry of 1813 set the pencils of the caricaturists in motion, and
among the satires it occasioned, I find a series of eight pictures on
one sheet, representing the witnesses, the commissioners, Mr. Whitbread,
and other persons connected with that and the previous investigation of
1806. It is called _A Key to the Investigation, or Iago Distanced by
Odds_; and the most amusing of the series is the seventh, which
represents the furious Lord Ellenborough, attired in his official robes
of Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench. The following doggerel
clearly identifies it with the speech from which we have already

  "This is the Chief J---- who, as the Lords tell,
   Swore that the reflections were false!--black as h----!
   _And though such bad words no man can use fewer_,
   In his rage it was fear'd he would pistol the Brewer[30]
   For moving the senate, who all cried, oh fie!
   That the Lady and B----[31] had told a d----d lie,
   And were unworthy credit the oaths they did try;
   And lamented the witness, whose answer when penn'd,
   Without questions which drew them, appear'd to portend
   More reproach than she meant against her good friend.
   While the hireling servants examined by law,
   Who thought by a stretch to gain some _éclat_,
   While before the commissioners named by the King,
   To investigate matters and witnesses bring," etc., etc.

The eighth of the series is "the spring that set all in motion," the
satirist's meaning being indicated by a throne, on which lies a cocked
hat adorned with the Prince of Wales' feathers, and beneath it, as is
usual in a large proportion of the satires which allude to the
prince-regent, a number of empty bottles.

The Regent seems never to have lost an opportunity of insulting his
uncongenial and unfortunate wife. In anticipation of the expected visit
of the allied sovereigns in June, 1814, the prince conveyed an
intimation to his royal mother that, as he considered his presence could
not be dispensed with at her ensuing drawing-rooms, he desired it to be
distinctly understood, "for reasons of which he alone could be the
judge, to be his fixed and unalterable determination not to meet the
Princess of Wales upon any occasion, either in public or private."[32]
Queen Charlotte was bound of course to give an official intimation to
that effect to the Princess Caroline, which, on the 24th and 26th of
May, 1814, brought from her letters to the queen and the Regent. In the
first of these communications she intimated her intention of "making
public the cause of her absence from Court at a time when the duties of
her station would otherwise peculiarly demand her attendance"; while her
letter to her husband contained the following intimation: "Your Royal
Highness may possibly refuse to read this letter; but the world must
know that I have written it, and they will see my real motives for
foregoing in this instance the rights of my rank. Occasions, however,
may arise (one, I trust, is far distant) when I _must_ appear in public,
and your Royal Highness must be present also. Can your Royal Highness
have contemplated the full extent of your declaration? Has your Royal
Highness forgotten the approaching marriage of our daughter [to the
Prince of Orange] and the possibility of our coronation?" These words
show that from the first Caroline had decided, _coûte que coûte_, when
the time came to assert her position, in spite of the opposition of her
husband and any obstacles which might be raised by his friends and

We have entered rather fully into this matter, because it seemed to us
necessary, in order that the reader might understand the temper of
Caroline, and the motives which influenced her in the extraordinary
course of conduct which she afterwards thought fit to pursue. She was
treated, we have seen, with the most cruel and studied insult; excluded
from ceremonials at which her rank and position entitled her to be
present. "Sir," said the unfortunate woman in the letter to her husband
to which we have alluded, "the time you have selected for this
proceeding is calculated to make it peculiarly galling. Many illustrious
strangers are already arrived in England; among others, as I am
informed, the illustrious heir of the house of Orange, who has announced
himself to me as my future son-in-law. From their society I am unjustly
excluded. Others are expected, of rank equal to your own, to rejoice
with your Royal Highness in the peace of Europe. My daughter will for
the first time appear in the splendour and publicity becoming the
approaching nuptials of the presumptive heiress of this empire. This
season your Royal Highness has chosen for treating me with great and
unprovoked indignity; and of all his Majesty's subjects, I alone am
prevented by your Royal Highness from appearing in my place, to partake
of the general joy, and am deprived of the indulgence of those feelings
of pride and affection permitted to every mother but me." Poor mother!
who may help pitying her! Her most prejudiced enemy will admit that this
was an eloquent and noble protest. Had she only maintained this language
and attitude, we should justly assign to her a place amongst the royal
martyrs of history. Naturally this barbarous, impolitic treatment soured
her, as it would sour even the sweetest disposition. In an evil hour for
her, and we may add for this country, she solicited and obtained
permission to travel abroad.

No sooner was she freed from the restraints which had surrounded her at
home, than her conduct not only makes us doubt whether she had any hand
in the composition of this maternal appeal, but appears to justify the
conclusions at which the commissioners of 1806 and 1813 seem to have
arrived. Her temper was obstinate and wilful. She knew that she was
watched; and from a spirit apparently of wanton mischief, designed with
the view doubtless of annoying her enemies, she indulged in a series of
the most extraordinary and undignified vagaries. She took into her
service and received into her closest confidence and favour persons of
the lowest position. It was impossible for rumours of her extraordinary
eccentricities not to reach, not only the ears of those who detested
her, but in an imperfect and incorrect degree those of the general
public. That this was the case is shown by a caricature entitled,
_Paving the way for a Royal Divorce_, published by Johnston on the 1st
of October, 1816, in which we see the corpulent Regent at table with
Lord Liverpool, "Old Bags"[33] (Chancellor Eldon), Lord Chief Justice
Ellenborough, Vansittart, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and another,
probably intended for Viscount Sidmouth. His Royal Highness is made by
the caricaturist to say that he and his sympathizers think "we shall now
succeed, having secured some evidence from the coast of Barbary.... I
have got everything as clear as the sun at noon-day.... Now for a
divorce as soon as possible." Lord Chancellor Eldon says, "I'll stick to
your Highness through thick and thin, or never call me 'Old Bags' again
as long as I live." Lord Liverpool supports him by the assurance, "I'm
an unmatched negotiator, and I'll enter into a treaty with the House of
Commons to secure your suit." The temper of the Commons is shown by the
doubts expressed by the individual we take to be intended for Viscount
Sidmouth. "I have my doubts," says this person, at the same time laying
his hands on the port wine decanter, "I have my doubts and qualms of
conscience, your Highness; what say you, Van?" "Oh, my lord," replies
Vansittart, who is seated on the "Budget," "I have some strange touches
of feeling on the subject." Up rises the hot-tempered Lord Chief
Justice, upsetting a decanter of port wine, and at the same time the
chair on which he has been sitting, "Don't put me in a passion with your
'qualms' and your 'touches'; they are all false, false as h----! I'll
blow you all to the d----l if you don't stick to your master manfully!!"
By the side of the prince we see, as usual, a pailful of wine bottles,
and at his feet, in allusion to his notorious infidelities, an open
volume entitled, "The Secret Memoirs of a Prince, by Humphrey Hedghog,
Esq., 1815." By the side of the Lord Chief Justice lie three portly
volumes labelled, "The Law of Divorce." It will be evident from the
foregoing, that from an early period, the satirists on the popular side
gave credit to the prince and his advisers for being members of a secret
conspiracy for compassing the ruin of the erring and unfortunate woman.

Now what was the "evidence" to which the corpulent Regent is made to
refer in the sketch before us? It was not of course _evidence_, but
rumour; and rumour said the strangest things of the Princess Caroline.
It associated her name with that of a courier,--a low Italian, named
Bartolomeo Bergami; it said that she had enriched and ennobled this man
and other members of his family; procured for him a barony in Sicily;
decorated him with several orders of knighthood; and asserted in the
plainest terms that she was living with him in a state of open and
notorious adultery. These reports rendered it necessary to ascertain on
what foundation they rested, and the result was that in 1818, Mr. Cooke,
of the Chancery Bar, and Mr. Powell, a solicitor, were despatched into
Germany and Italy to collect evidence with respect to her conduct. This
inquiry, which is generally known as the "Milan Commission," seemed
certainly preferable to an investigation of a more public and notorious
character; and upon the evidence these gentlemen obtained was founded
the "Bill of Pains and Penalties," which we shall presently have to


It is quite clear that the ministers of 1820 were strongly averse to the
introduction of the "Bill of Pains and Penalties," which is now known to
us as the "Trial of Queen Caroline." The whole odium indeed of the
proceedings rested upon them at the time; but we have no reason to doubt
the statement of Mr. Charles Greville, under date of 20th February,
1820, that they had offered to resign, "because the king would not hear
reason." It seems at any rate tolerably certain that, although they
brought forward the "Bill of Pains and Penalties" under pressure of the
Crown, they did not do so until they had well-nigh exhausted every
effort short of actual resignation (this dignified position they did
_not_ take) to avoid it. Mr. Wade tells us that "their first
indiscretion consisted in commencing hostilities against the queen by
the omission of her name in the liturgy, thereby provoking her claim to
legal rights;"[34] but this omission, which appears to us justifiable
under the circumstances, Mr. Greville shows us was due to the action of
the king himself.[35] In the month of June, 1819, a communication
appears to have been received from Mr. Brougham, the professional
adviser of the princess, and understood to be charged with the
confidential management of her affairs. The proposal contained in this
communication was in substance, that her then income of £35,000 a year
should be secured to her for life, instead of terminating with the
demise of the crown: and that she should undertake upon that arrangement
being made to reside permanently abroad, and not to assume at any time
the rank or title of Queen of England. This proposal, however, being
stated to be made without any authority from the princess, or knowledge
of it on her part, the Government at that time replied that there would
be no indisposition at the proper time to entertain the principle on
which the proposal was grounded, if it met with the approbation of her
Royal Highness on the king's accession. The ministers, reverting to Mr.
Brougham's proposal, offered to raise the already handsome allowance to
£50,000 a year, subject to the conditions before mentioned. Caroline,
however, peremptorily declined the proposal, alleging that it had been
made without her knowledge or sanction. Unfortunately, too, this offer
when made to Caroline herself, was coupled with the intimation that if
the queen should "be so ill-advised as to come over to this country,
there must be _an end to all negotiations and compromise_."[36]
Considering the temper and disposition of the woman, the fact that she
had demanded the insertion of her name in the liturgy, the haughty
assertion of her claim "to be received and acknowledged as the Queen of
England," and the communication made at the same time of her desire that
a royal yacht should be in readiness to receive her at Calais,[37] it
appears to us a greater mistake on the part of the ministry could
scarcely have been made. It aroused her woman's nature, and flaming with
the anger and resentment which she had nourished for so long a course
of years, she boldly took up the gauntlet her enemies had flung at her
feet, and crossed the Channel almost as soon as the astonished
Government messenger himself.

The queen (for she was titular Queen of England now) arrived in London
on the 7th of June: "the road was thronged with an immense multitude the
whole way from Westminster Bridge to Greenwich. Carriages, carts, and
horsemen followed, preceded, and surrounded her coach the whole way. She
was everywhere received with the greatest enthusiasm. Women waved
pocket-handkerchiefs, and men shouted wherever she passed. She travelled
in an open landau, Alderman Wood sitting by her side, and Lady Ann
Hamilton [the Duke of Hamilton's sister] and another woman opposite....
The queen looked exactly as she did before she left England, and seemed
neither dispirited nor dismayed."[38] In one of the popular satires of
the day we see her standing on the balcony of Alderman Wood's house in
South Audley Street, receiving and acknowledging the enthusiastic
plaudits of her admirers. The very day she arrived at Dover, a royal
message was sent down to Parliament, by which the king commended to the
Lords an inquiry into the conduct of the queen; while on the following
day, Mr. Brougham read in the House of Commons a message or manifesto
from his client, declaring that her return was occasioned by the
necessity her enemies had laid upon her of defending her character and


Both parties now stood irrevocably committed to the fatal measure. A
secret committee of the House of Lords proceeded to open the celebrated
_green bag_, which contained the reports of the Milan Commission; and on
the 4th of July they made their report, recommending a solemn inquiry
into the conduct of the queen. Next day the Earl of Liverpool presented
a "bill of pains and penalties" entitled, "An Act to deprive Her Majesty
Queen Caroline Amelia Elizabeth of the title, prerogative, rights,
privileges, and exemptions of Queen Consort of this realm, and to
dissolve the marriage between His Majesty and the said Caroline Amelia
Elizabeth" on the ground of the grossly immoral conduct therein alleged
against her.

The ill-advised proceedings once commenced, no time was lost in carrying
them through. On the 7th of July the Italian witnesses in support of the
bill (twelve in number) landed at Dover. The object of their visit soon
became known, and on emerging from the custom house they were set upon
and badly beaten by a furious crowd, composed principally of women. They
were lodged in a building then separating the old houses of Parliament,
which, with its enclosure, was called Cotton Garden; the front faced the
abbey, the rear the Thames. "The land entrance was strongly barricaded.
The side facing Westminster Bridge was shut out from the public by a
wall run up for the express purpose at a right angle to the Parliament
stairs. Thus the only access was by the river. Here was erected a
causeway to low-water mark; a flight of steps led to the interior of the
inclosure. The street was guarded by a strong military force, the water
side by gunboats. An ample supply of provisions was stealthily (for fear
of the mob) introduced into the building; a bevy of royal cooks was sent
to see that the food was of good quality, and to render it as palatable
as their art could make it. About this building, in which the witnesses
were immured from August till November, the London mob would hover like
a cat round the cage of a canary. Such confinement would have been
intolerable to the natives of any other country, but it was quite in
unison with the feelings of Italians. To them it realized their
favourite '_dolce far niente_.' Their only physical exertion appears to
have been the indulgence in that description of dance that the
_Pifferari_ have made familiar to the Londoner."[39] Such was the
residence of the Italian witnesses against the queen, and it is certain
that if they had ventured beyond its precincts they would have been torn
in pieces.

The appearance which Caroline of Brunswick presented at her trial was
an outrageous caricature, and is thus described by one then distinctly
friendly to her cause--the Earl of Albemarle: "The peers rose as the
queen entered, and remained standing until she took her seat in a
crimson and gilt chair immediately in front of her counsel. Her
appearance was anything but prepossessing. She wore a black dress with a
high ruff, an unbecoming gipsy hat with a huge bow in front, the whole
surmounted by a plume of ostrich feathers. _Nature_ had given her light
hair, blue eyes, a fair complexion, and a good-humoured expression of
countenance; but these characteristics were marred by _painted
eyebrows_, and by a _black wig_ with a profusion of curls, which
overshadowed her cheeks and gave a bold, defiant air to her features."
The names of the witnesses, and possibly the precise nature of the
testimony against her, would seem to have been unknown to the queen, for
we have it on record that when the first witness (Teodoro Majoochi, the
celebrated "Non Mi Ricordo") was placed at the bar, on the 21st of
August, Her Majesty, "uttering a loud exclamation, retired hastily from
the House, followed by Lady Ann Hamilton."[40] She evidently laboured
under some strong emotion, whether of surprise or displeasure, or both,
seems never to have been ascertained.

Among the general public, and even in the House of Commons itself, the
falsehood of all that had been alleged on oath against the queen was
assumed as an undeniable axiom; the witnesses were loaded with the most
opprobrious epithets, while those who had been concerned in collecting
or sifting evidence were represented as conspirators or suborners. We
shall see, when we come to speak of the caricatures of Robert
Cruikshank, the light in which these unhappy witnesses were regarded by
the graphic satirists on the popular side.[41] Nevertheless, if their
testimony is carefully read over by any unprejudiced person having any
knowledge of the law of evidence, in spite of the badgering of Mr.
Brougham, the admirable speech of that gentleman, and the testimony of
the witnesses on the other side, I think he cannot fail to come to any
other conclusion than that expressed by the then Lord Ellenborough, that
Her Royal Highness was "the last woman a man of honour would wish his
wife to resemble, or the father of a family would recommend as an
example to his daughters. No man," said his lordship, "could put his
hand on his heart and say that the queen was not wholly unfit to hold
the situation which she holds."[42] He will see too, by reference to the
report of the proceedings in the "Annual Register," that of the peers
who decided to vote against the second reading of the bill on the ground
of _inexpediency_, a large majority gave it as their deliberate opinion
that the case had been proved against the queen.[43] In a very clever
pictorial satire, published by S. Humphrey in 1821, the queen, Bergami,
and a third figure (possibly intended for Alderman Wood) are represented
as standing on a pedestal forming the apex of a slender stem labelled
"Mobility," which rests on a base marked "Adultery." The whole structure
depends for support on a broom (in allusion of course to Mr. Brougham)
and two frail pieces of wood, labelled respectively, "Sham addresses,"
and "Sham processions," which in turn rest on a slender railing, while a
ladder on either side, marked "Brass" and "Wood," lend a further slight
support to the very insecure fabric. The superincumbent weight of the
queen and Bergami breaks the frail stem in pieces, and the three figures
tumble to the ground together. The back of the design is occupied with
scenes and incidents detailed in the evidence. A very clever caricature,
without date (published by T. Sidebotham), I am inclined to assign to
this period; and if so, it is one of the most plain spoken and telling
satires ever published. It is entitled, _City Scavengers Cleansing the
London Streets of Impurities_; a placard which has fallen in the street
sufficiently explains its meaning: "By particular desire of the Society
for the Suppression of Vice, D-- of K--t in the chair, ordered that the
city officers do keep the streets clear of common prostitutes.--Signed,
Wood, Mayor."[44]

A more foolish and undignified proceeding, however, than this "Bill of
Pains and Penalties" can scarcely be conceived. Its fate might almost
have been predicted from the first. The second reading was carried on
the 6th of November, by a majority of twenty-eight, but the third (for
the reasons already given) by a majority of nine only; whereupon, the
Earl of Liverpool said that, "had the third reading been carried by as
considerable a number of peers as the second had been, he and his
colleagues would have felt it their duty to persevere with the bill and
to send it down to the other branch of the legislature. In the present
state of the country, however, ... they had come to the determination
not to proceed further with it."[45] The victory will be acknowledged by
us now-a-days as damaging as a defeat; but the result, curious to
relate, was hailed by the queen and her party as if her innocence had
been triumphantly vindicated. In signing a document prepared by her
counsel on the 8th of November, she wrote, "Carolina Regina," adding the
words, "there, _Regina_ still, in spite of them." The abandonment of the
bill was followed by three nights of illumination; but it was observed
that they were of a very partial character, wholly unlike those which
had greeted the great victories by sea and land, in which the public
sympathy was spontaneous and universal. The mob in some cases testified
its disapproval when these signs of satisfaction were wanting; and one
gentleman in Bond Street, on being repeatedly requested to "light up,"
placed a single rushlight in his two-pair-of-stairs window. Some of the
transparencies were, as might have been expected, of a singular
character. A trunk maker in the same street displayed the following new
reading from Genesis: "And God said, It is not good the King should
reign alone." A publican at the corner of Half Moon Street exhibited a
flag whereon, in reference to the unpopular witness Teodoro Majoochi,
was depicted a gallows with the following inscription:--

  "_Q._ What's that for?
   _A._ Non Mi Ricordo."

An enthusiastic cheesemonger at the top of Great Queen Street displayed
a transparency on which he had inscribed the following verses:--

  "Some friends of the devil
   With mischief and evil
     Filled a green bag of no worth;
   But in spite of the host,
   It gave up the ghost
     And died 53 days after birth."

The caricaturists of course were not idle, and the trial of Queen
Caroline provoked a perfect legion of pictorial satires. The queen's
victory is celebrated in one of the contemporary caricatures (published
by John Marshall, junior) under the title of _The Queen Caroline Running
down the Royal George_; while on the ministerial side it is recorded
(among others) by a far more elaborate and valuable performance
(published by G. Humphrey), called, _The Steward's Court of the Manor of
Torre Devon_, which contains an immense number of figures, and wherein
the queen is seated on a black ram[46] in the midst of one of the
popular processions, the members of which carry poles bearing pictorial
records of the various events brought out in evidence against her.

It is one of the peculiarities of our "Glorious Constitution," that
while the ministers who acted under his direction incurred all the
blame, the prime instigator of all these exposures was enabled to
shelter himself behind the backs of his "advisers." The ministers were
unpopular,--they deserved to be so, for, whatever might have been the
consequences to themselves so far as loss of office was concerned, they
should have refused from the first to lend themselves to the publication
of a scandal so utterly grievous. The king himself at this time was far
from unpopular; the odium he had incurred the previous year by the
thanks he had caused to be conveyed to Major Trafford, "and the
officers, non-commissioned officers, and privates" of the yeomanry who
had signalized themselves in the massacre at Manchester (an outrage
which, by the way, led to a number of pictorial satires), seemed to have
wholly passed away. He was at Ascot only two days before the queen's
arrival, and "was always cheered by the mob as he went away. One day
only a man in the crowd called out "Where's the Queen?"[47] Again, we
find on the same authority, that on the night of the 6th of February,
1821: "The king went to the play (Drury Lane) for the first time, the
Dukes of York and Clarence and a great suite with him. He was received
with immense acclamations, the whole pit standing up, hurrahing and
waving their hats. The boxes were very empty at first, for the mob
occupied the avenues to the theatre, and those who had engaged boxes
could not get to them. The crowd on the outside was very great.... A few
people called 'The Queen!' but very few. A man in the gallery called
out, 'Where's your wife, Georgy?'[48] His reception at Covent Garden the
following night appears to have been equally loyal and gratifying.

The truth was, that the numerous and truly honest people who sympathized
with Queen Caroline, did so from little admiration for herself, but
because she had been the victim of twenty-five years' persecution;
because, however great her follies, they had been grievously provoked;
and above all, because they felt that the man who was her most powerful
and relentless persecutor, was the very last who was justified in
casting a stone against her. The ministerialists and their supporters,
however, attributed the sympathy which was shown by her professed
admirers exclusively to a political origin, and thus stigmatized the
motives of their opponents (with more justice than poetry) in one of the
jingling rhymes of the day:--

  "What's the Queen to Reformists? as Queen was to France,
   Round her head and her consort's they'd equally dance.
   They care not for Caroline, nor king, nor for queen,
   A pretext they want their intentions to screen,
   'The Queen!' is the Radicals' rallying cry;
   A queen bears the standard the king to defy."

How entirely unfitted this mistaken woman was to figure in the august
position of a queen of England may be judged from her subsequent
conduct. Instead of contenting herself with her victory, such as it was,
she had the ill taste, in spite of the remonstrances of her friends and
advisers, to communicate to the Lord Mayor, through the medium of her
"vice chamberlain," her intention to proceed to St. Paul's in a public
manner on Wednesday, the 29th of November, there and then to offer up
her thanksgivings for the result: and this resolution she actually
carried out. The details of her procession, which really reminds us of
the entry of a company of equestrians into some provincial town, need
not be entered into here; suffice it to say that it comprised trumpeters
without number, stewards' carriages, gentlemen on horseback, the
corpulent queen herself, with her attendant, Lady Ann Hamilton, and the
indispensable Alderman Wood, the whole closing with "the various trades
with flags and banners." It would appear to us that one of the rarest of
the caricatures on the ministerial side has reference to this triumphal
entry. It is labelled, _Grand Entrance to Bamboozlem_, and was published
by Humphrey shortly afterwards. The queen is represented at the head of
a procession, all the members of which (herself included) are mounted on
braying "jackasses." A figure, intended no doubt for Alderman Wood,
habited in a fool's cap and jester's dress, holds her by the hand; the
lady who follows him, playing on the fiddle and wearing a Scotch bonnet,
is meant for Lady Ann Hamilton (she is named "Lady Ann Bagpipe" in the
sketch); Bergami (immediately behind) carries a banner inscribed
"Innocence"; and next him, his fat sister, whom the queen had dignified
with the title of a countess; Venus and Bacchus appear amongst the
crowd, and are labelled "Protégés and bosom friends of Her M----y." She
is welcomed by an enthusiastic body of butchers with marrow-bones and
cleavers; while among the crowd waiting to receive her we notice Orator
Hunt and the other popular leaders of the day.

  _Face p. 81._]

And here we drop for the present the subject of Queen Caroline, a
subject we have approached with caution, although conscious that it can
be by no means omitted from a work treating of graphic satires of the
nineteenth century. That she should now accept the £50,000 per annum
which she had previously refused, will probably not surprise the reader.
The end of a career so strangely undignified will be seen when we come
to treat of the caricatures of George Cruikshank.

The duel between the Dukes of Buckingham and Bedford; the erection of
the statue of Achilles in Hyde Park; the new Marriage Act; the second
French invasion of Spain under the Duc d'Angoulème; the Tenth Hussars;
Miss Foote, the celebrated actress; Edmund Kean; and the commercial
distress of 1825-6, afford subjects for the pencils of the
caricaturists, and will be mentioned in the chapters which relate to the
graphic satires of the brothers Cruikshank.


The pictorial satirists were kept fully employed by the political events
of 1827 and 1828. The former year beheld the sanguinary Greek war of
independence. Things turned out badly for the over-matched Greeks, until
at last Great Britain, France, and Russia interposed with Turkey on
their behalf. The proposals offered were such as the Turks refused to
entertain. The Porte, in refusing them, maintained that, though
mediation might be allowable in matters of difference between
independent states, it was utterly inadmissible as between a power and
its revolted subjects. The allied powers then proposed an armistice,
demanding a reply within fifteen days, plainly intimating that in the
event of refusal or silence (which would be construed into a refusal),
they should resort to measures for _enforcing_ a suspension of


In the meantime arrived at Navarino the Egyptian fleet, consisting of
ninety-two sail, including fifty-one transports, having on board 5,000
fresh troops. Ibraham Pacha's attempt to hoodwink the British, and to
land these troops at Patras, was foiled by the vigilance and
determination of the English admiral. Disappointed in these attempts, he
proceeded, in the teeth of the warnings which had been given him, to
execute his orders to put down the insurrection on land, and carried
them out with merciless atrocity,--ravaging the Morea with fire and
sword. Resolved now to bring matters to an issue, the combined fleets in
October, 1827, entered the harbour. As was expected would happen, the
Turks fired upon them, and then ensued the famous battle of Navarino, in
which, after a four hours' engagement, the Turkish and Egyptian fleets
were annihilated, and the bay strewed with the remains of their ruined

Russia declared war against Turkey the following year, and we meet with
many miscellaneous caricatures having reference to the conflict which
followed. In one, published by Maclean (without date) entitled, _Russian
Bears' Grease, or a Peep into Futurity_, we see the Russian bear running
off with Greece in spite of England, France, and Austria. Another (also
without date), is labelled _The Descent of the Great Bear, or the
Mussulmans in a Quandary_. In a third (also without date), called _The
Nest in Danger_, we see Turkey sitting on a nest marked "Greece"
disturbed by Russia, whilst the British lion stands looking on at no
great distance, discontentedly gnawing a bone labelled "Navarino." By
the time peace was concluded between the belligerents in 1829, England
would seem to have realized the fact that she had been made the tool of
Russia, and this is the obvious idea intended to be conveyed by the
satirist in another caricature (also without date, but bearing obvious
reference to the same subject). The Porte is represented in the act of
_presenting a bill of indemnification_ to George the Fourth.


The principal political topic remaining to be noticed is the Catholic
Relief Bill of 1829, a measure forced upon the king, the ministry, the
church, and the aristocracy by the imperative force of circumstances,
directed by the prescience of a minister who, sharing at first all the
objections of his colleagues, felt nevertheless that a large portion of
his Majesty's subjects were labouring under disabilities and fettered by
restrictions inconsistent with the boasted liberties of a free people;
and that such a measure, in the face of the political changes which had
been loudly demanded for a long time past, could no longer be delayed.
It is not surprising, however, that Wellington and his colleagues,
following out the maxims of a Whig policy, should be viewed by their own
party somewhat in the light of traitors. Accordingly we see them
figuring in this character in some of the caricatures of the day, one of
which (one of the "Paul Pry" series), published by Geans in 1829, may be
cited as an example of the rest, and shows them to us in the act of
_Burking Old Mrs. Constitution, aged 141_.

In this and the two preceding chapters we have attempted to give an
account of some of the leading events of the first thirty years of the
century, illustrating them by reference to a _few_ of the miscellaneous
caricatures of the period. We have adopted this method of arrangement
because, if our theory be correct, it was during this period that the
art of caricature continued to flourish, and it is from this period that
we date its speedy decline and downfall. We think that the prime cause
of this decline may be traced to the fact that George Cruikshank, the
best of nineteenth century satirists, had by this time resigned the art
to follow his new employment of an illustrator of books; we think, too,
that caricature received an additional impetus in its downward progress
by the secession from the ranks of its professors of the veteran Thomas
Rowlandson, who, although he did not die until 1827, had virtually
given up caricature in favour of book illustration[49] many years
before. Further illustration of some of the events already related, and
of others to which we have no occasion at present to refer, will be
found in the chapters devoted to the work of Isaac Robert Cruikshank and
his brother George.

A considerable number of the caricatures which belong to the first
quarter of the century have an anonymous origin; whilst a large
proportion are due to William Heath, who, either in his own name, or
often under the distinguishing hieroglyphic of "Paul Pry," contributed
largely to the political and social satires of his day. Other
caricaturists of the period were H. Heath (hundreds of whose comic
sketches were collected and published by Charles Tilt), Theodore Lane,
and his friends Isaac Robert and George Cruikshank. To these names we
must add those of the last century men who continued their work into the
present, James Gillray, Thomas Rowlandson, George Moutard Woodward, C.
Williams, Henry William Bunbury, Robert Dighton, and others. Some idea
of the industry of the nineteenth century satirists may be gathered from
the fact that the "Paul Pry" series of political satires of 1829-30,
alone number some fifty plates, which in our day can rarely be purchased
at three times their original cost.

       *       *       *       *       *

  THEODORE LANE. _From "Life of an Actor," 1824._


  THEODORE LANE. _From "Life of an Actor," 1824._


  _Face p. 85._]


On the walls of some old-fashioned dining-rooms, and the parlours of
provincial inns, may still be seen an engraving, called _The
Enthusiast_, which some of my readers may remember to have seen in the
print shops of some twenty or five-and-twenty years ago. It represents
an old disciple of Izaac Walton, whom the gout has incapacitated from
following his favourite pursuit, so devoted to the sport, that we see
him fishing for minnows in a water-tub, instead of the rippling
stream out of which he has been accustomed to whip his favourite
speckle-backed beauties. The painting from which this engraving was
taken was the work of Theodore Lane, who, although his work is limited
to the short space of five or six years, seems to call for special
mention by virtue of his tragic ending, the short span allotted to his
life and labours, and the superiority of his talent and genius to those
of many of his contemporaries. Lane was literally a comic artist of the
nineteenth century, having been born at Isleworth in 1800. He was
apprenticed to a colourer of prints at Battle Bridge, named Barrow; and,
shortly after completing his time, produced (in 1822) six designs
illustrative of "The Life of an Actor," and with these in a small
portfolio under his arm, went out into the world to seek his fortune as
other comic artists have done before him and since. Pierce Egan, at this
time, was the most popular man in town; his name (on very insufficient
literary merits) was identified with the success of the most famous book
of the century--we allude to the "Life in London." To his residence in
Spann's Buildings, St. Pancras, Lane betook himself; showed him his
sketches, and said if Egan would only undertake the letterpress, he
should find no difficulty in getting Ackermann, Sherwood, or any of the
art publishers of the day, to undertake its publication. But Egan's
hands were full, and he declined the offer. Two years later on, author
and artist again met, and the result was that "The Life of an Actor,
Peregrine Proteus," made its appearance, "illustrated by twenty-seven
coloured scenes and nine woodcuts, representing the vicissitudes of the
stage". The publisher was Arnold, of Tavistock Street, Covent Garden,
who paid the young artist one hundred and fifty pounds fifteen shillings
for his share of the work. "The Life of an Actor" was published at a
guinea, and dedicated to Edmund Kean; and a contemporary critic
describes it as "one of the best exemplifications of Mr. Egan's peculiar
talent. It is impossible for us," he continues, "to do justice to the
spirit of the designs, many of which would [of course] not discredit the
pencil of Hogarth." Lane's association with one of the most noted
sporting characters of the day opened the way to him for further
engagements, and for another work, entitled, "A Complete Panorama of
the Sporting World," he executed thirteen original etchings, and an
equal number of designs on wood.

Among the number of Theodore Lane's social satires may be mentioned
_Scientific Pursuits, or Hobbyhorse Races to the Temple of Fame_, four
folio plates; _The Parson's Clerk_ (a comic song), four illustrations in
ridicule of cant and hypocrisy; _Legal Illustrations_ (seventy humorous
applications of law terms); _The Masquerade at the Argyll Rooms_ (a
large plate full of vigour, life, and character); _New Year's Morning:
the Old One out, and the New One coming in_, a party of topers, one of
whom--the chairman, with the empty punch-bowl on his head (representing
"the old one out")--merrily points at the waiter bringing a full bowl
("the new one") in; _Sunday Morning--the Barber's Shop_; _Shilling Fare
to a Christmas Dinner, or Just in Pudding Time_; _The Rival Whiskers_;
and _Amorous, Clamorous, Uproarious, and Glorious_ (a pair of admirable
and amusing satires of the prevailing features, vices, and follies of
the day); _Crowding to the Pit_ and _Contending for a Seat_ (two capital
theatrical subjects). Lane also made a sketch entitled, _Paul Pry's
First Night in a Boarding House_, intended to be succeeded by eleven
others, the publication of which was however prevented by the death of
Liston. McLean published a large and clever design, bearing the somewhat
lengthy title of _Law Gorging on the Spoils of Fools and Rogues, and
Honest Men among Knavery, producing Repentance and Ruin; or, the Fatal
Effects of Legal Rapacity_,--wherein the highway of Law conducts to Ruin
through a series of toll-gates labelled respectively, "Opinion of
Counsel," "Injunction," "Filing the Bill," "Consultation,"
"Procrastination," etc.

Like his contemporaries the Cruikshanks, with whom he was familiar,
Theodore Lane mixed freely with the young bloods of his day, termed in
the slang of his time "Corinthians," and the results are shown in his
designs. He might often be seen at the "Craven's Head," in Drury Lane,
kept by a host known to his patrons by the familiar title of "Billy
Oxberry"; at the Saturday night harmonic meetings held at the "Kean's
Head," in Russell Court, Drury Lane; at "The Wrekin," in Broad Court,
Long Acre, at that time frequented by gentlemen of the Press; at "The
Harp," in Russell Street, Drury Lane, a well known house of call for
actors, and appropriately immortalised in one of his illustrations to
"The Life of an Actor"; at the "Cider Cellar"; at the "Fives Court"; at
the numerous "Masquerades" of the day; at any place of resort, in fact,
which offered studies of life and character or subjects of social
satire. He figures in his own sketch of _The Masquerade at the Argyll
Rooms_, where we recognise him (in one of the right hand boxes) in a
white sheet, a tall paper cap on his head, and a staff in his hand. His
impersonations were sometimes singularly original. At one of these
"masquerades," for instance, he represented a "frozen-out gardener"
soliciting charity, and holding in his hand a cabbage covered with
icicles; at another, he appeared as a hospital "out-patient," wearing a
hideous mask (designed by himself) representing some dreadful disease,
from which the bystanders recoiled in horror and amazement. With all
this drollery Lane kept himself well out of mischief, and was moreover,
in days when young and old were more or less inclined to be topers, a
strictly temperate man.

But Lane's talents were not confined to comic etching or designs on
wood. He was also an artist in oil and water colour. He painted in oils
_The Drunken Gardener_; _The Organ of Murder_, a clumsy, nervous
craniologist feeling his own head in doubt and perplexity to ascertain
whether the dreadful "organ" is developed in himself; _An Hour before
the Duel_ (exhibited at the Institution in Pall Mall). Other subjects of
his pictures were: _The Poet reading his Manuscript Play of Five Acts to
a Friend_; _Too many Cooks Spoil the Broth_; _The Nightmare_; _The
Mathematician's Abstraction_ (the latter purchased by Lord Northwick).
His most ambitious work in oils (upwards of seventeen feet in length)
was called _A Trip to Ascot Races_. His last work, _The Enthusiast_ (the
first we have mentioned), was exhibited at Somerset House at the time of
his death.

The fate of this clever young artist and satirist was both singular and
tragical. It appears that on the 21st of February, 1828, Theodore Lane,
who then resided in Judd Street, Brunswick Square, called upon his
brother-in-law, Mr. Wakefield, a surgeon of Battle Bridge, intending to
proceed in the latter's gig to Hampstead, to join a party of friends who
had gone there to spend the day. Mr. Wakefield having to visit a patient
in Manchester Street, Gray's Inn Lane, drove there with his
brother-in-law, and this was the last time he was seen alive. Close to
the place was a horse bazaar, which the artist appears to have entered
by way of passing the time. The horse and trap were there, but no trace
of poor Lane; and on search being made, his body was found lying
lifeless at the foot of the auctioneer's stand. He appears to have
wandered into the betting-room, and by some unexplained means or other
fallen backwards through an insufficiently protected skylight. The
clever head was battered so completely out of recognition that he was
only identified by his card-case. That Lane was a man of unusual promise
is shown by the fact that amongst the subscribers for the benefit of the
widow and children of the deceased, we find the names of Sir Thomas
Lawrence, president of the Royal Academy; F. Chantrey, R.A.; George
Westmacott; Cooper, the celebrated animal painter; and Leahy, the
painter of the celebrated picture of "Mary Stuart's Farewell to France."
The remains of this ill-fated, talented young fellow lie in the burial
ground of old St. Pancras.


  [23] "Fifty Years of my Life," by George Thomas, Earl of Albemarle,
    vol. i. p. 270.

  [24] "Annual Register," 1813.

  [25] _Ibid._ (Chronicle), 342.

  [26] See the letter of the Princess of Wales, "Annual Register," 1813
    (Chronicle), 342.

  [27] See speech of Mr. Whitbread, "Annual Register," 1813 (20).

  [28] "Annual Register," 1813 (Chronicle), 345.

  [29] "Annual Register," 1813, p. 24.

  [30] Whitbread.

  [31] Sir John and Lady Douglas.

  [32] Letter from the queen to the Princess of Wales of 23rd May,
    1814.--"Annual Register," 1814, p. 349.

  [33] So called because he carried home with him, in sundry bags, the
    cases pending his judgments.

  [34] Wade's, "British History," p. 765.

  [35] See "Greville Memoirs," vol. i. p. 24 (February 24th).

  [36] "Annual Register," 1820, p. 135.

  [37] _Ibid._, pp. 131, 132.

  [38] "Greville Memoirs," vol. i. p. 28.

  [39] "Fifty Years of my Life," by George Thomas, Earl of Albemarle,
    vol. ii. p. 123.

  [40] "Annual Register," 1820, p. 986.

  [41] See caricatures of Robert Cruikshank, 1820.

  [42] "Annual Register," 1820, p. 1149; see also the impartial opinion
    of the Duke of Portland, "Greville Memoirs," vol. i. p. 56.

  [43] See "Annual Register," 1820, p. 1139 _et seq._

  [44] This of course may not be the case. The Duke of Kent, we know,
    was dead at the time, and Wood, we believe, was not Lord Mayor. He
    had been Lord Mayor some time before, and the satire may possibly
    allude to some order made at that time. At the same time, I find the
    caricature amongst those assigned (in the large but badly arranged
    collection to which I have present access) to this particular period.

  [45] "Annual Register," 1820 [190].

  [46] There is a custom in the Manor of Torre Devon, that when a
    copyhold tenant dies, his widow has her free-bench in his land, but
    forfeits her estate on committing the offence with which the queen
    was charged; on her coming however into court riding backward on a
    black ram, and repeating the formula mentioned in the design, the
    steward is bound to reinstate her. Without this explanation the
    meaning of this telling satire would not be understood. For the
    formula (which cannot be repeated here) I must refer the reader to
    Jacob's Law Dictionary, ed. 1756, title, "Free Bench."

  [47] "Greville Memoirs," vol. i. p. 27.

  [48] _Ibid._, p. 43.

  [49] Unlike George Cruikshank, Rowlandson seldom dropped caricature
    in his book illustration. When he does so, as in his designs to
    "Naples and the Compagna Felice," he shows (as in his water colour
    drawings) his wonderful graphic powers. His illustrated books are
    rare, and command good prices. William Coombe's English "Dance of
    Death" and "Dance of Life" (I refer of course to first editions) can
    only now be purchased at £14.




It was the misfortune of the brothers Cruikshank that they outlived
their popularity: in the case of the younger brother, this result (as we
shall presently see) must be attributed in a certain measure to his own
fault; but as regards Robert, his efforts as a caricaturist were
destined to be eclipsed by the greater novelty and attractions of HB,
whilst a tendency to carelessness, and the absence of actual genius,
prevented him from attaining lasting celebrity in the line of book
illustration which George made so peculiarly his own. The final result,
however, was the same in both cases; and the brothers might have said
with truth, that, in suffering both to die poor and neglected, the
British public treated both with the strictest impartiality. Here,
however, the impartiality ended; for whilst over two hundred articles
have been penned in praise of the brilliant man of genius, poor Robert
Transit[50] (a name strictly appropriate to his memory) reposes in his
nameless grave still unregarded and still forgotten. Few writers indeed
have wasted pen and ink about Robert Cruikshank or his work: Robert
William Buss, in his book on "English Graphic Satire" (a work published
for private circulation only), devotes exactly a line and a half to his
memory; his friend, George Daniel, gives him a few kindly words _in
memoriam_; Professor Bates's essay on his brother George contains
several pages of valuable information in relation to some of his book
illustrations; whilst Mr. Hamilton presents us with a dozen specimens of
work of this kind which are nothing less than libels on his graphic
powers. To the general public of to-day the name of Robert Cruikshank is
so little known, that comparatively few are cognizant of the fact that
he was one of the most popular and successful graphic satirists of his
time. It is the misfortune of the caricaturist that his wares attain
only a transitory popularity, whilst it is their peculiarity that after
he is dead their value is increased fourfold. It is by no means uncommon
for five and even seven shillings to be demanded and obtained for one of
the impressions of Robert's plates, which in his lifetime could have
been purchased at the cost of a shilling. It is the design of this
chapter to rescue the memory of a clever artist from undeserved
oblivion, and restore him to that place in comic art which he once
occupied, and which it seems to us he deserved to fill not only on
account of his own merits, but by reason of being associated in
illustrations of a different character with such men as his brother
George, Robert Seymour, Thomas Rowlandson, John Leech, and other artists
of genius and reputation.

Isaac Robert, or rather Robert Cruikshank (as he usually styled
himself), was born in 1790. He had as a boy acquired the groundwork of
his technical education as an artist and etcher under the direction of
old Isaac his father; but we personally have met with little of his work
prior to 1816, which is accounted for by the fact that he followed for a
short time a sea life in the service of the East India Company, and
after having thrown this up in favour of a calling more congenial to his
tastes, he devoted himself for some years almost exclusively to
miniature and portrait painting, by which he earned not only a fair
livelihood, but a certain amount of fashionable patronage. Gradually,
however (George tells us), he abandoned this occupation, and took almost
exclusively to designing and etching. He occasionally alternated his
work with water-colour drawing, in which he is said to have greatly
excelled. His works in this line are extremely rare, for Robert had
neither the means nor the patience to wait for the tardy patronage to be
commanded by a higher walk in art; there was a demand for caricatures
and comic etching in his day, which afforded a present means of
livelihood, and Robert's water colours were executed more by way of
relaxation than in the way of actual artistic pursuit. Among his early
caricatures we may mention a rough and coarsely coloured affair engraved
by him after the design of an amateur, published by Fores on the 28th of
April, 1816, entitled, _The Mother's Girl Plucking a Crow, or German
Flesh and English Spirit_. The Princess Charlotte, as we have seen, had
an undoubted will of her own, and could, as we have also seen, assert it
when occasion demanded. Here she is presented to us at the moment when a
hideous German duenna, catching her in the act of writing to her mother
abroad, orders her at once to desist. The princess, however, in plain
terms, enforced with a clenched fist, gives her clearly to understand
that she fully intends to have her own way. Another caricature,
published by T. Sidebotham, in 1817, bearing the title of _The Horse
Marine and his Trumpeter in a Squall_, is dedicated to the United
Service Club.


Subjects for the pencil of a clever graphic satirist were not wanting
sixty years ago. France in those days set the fashion both in male and
female attire, and the strangest eccentricities had marked the
emancipation of that country from the thraldom of the Terror. There were
the _incroyables_, a set of young dandies who affected royalist
sympathies, and paraded the streets of Paris when young Napoleon was yet
a general in the service of the Directory. They wore short-waisted coats
with tails of preposterous length, cocked hats of ponderous dimensions,
green cravats, powdered hair plaited and turned up with a comb, while on
each side of the face hung down two long curls called dogs' ears
(_oreilles de chien_). These charming fellows carried twisted sticks of
enormous size, as weapons of offence and defence, and spoke in a
peculiarly affected manner.[51] Some fourteen or fifteen years later on,
when we had driven Joseph Bonaparte and his brother's legions out of
Spain, the fashions had not improved. The biographer of Victor Hugo
gives us the picture of one Gilé, a Parisian dandy of that period, whose
coat of olive brown was cut in the shape of a fish's tail, and dotted
all over with metal buttons even to the shoulders. Young men who went to
moderate lengths in fashion were content to wear the waists of their
coats in the middle of their backs, but the waist of this Gilé intruded
on the nape of his neck. His hat was stuck on the right side of his
head, bringing into prominent notice on the left a thick tuft of hair
frizzed out with curling irons. His trousers were ornamented with
stripes which looked like bars of gold lace; they were pinched in at the
knees and wide at the bottom, giving his feet the appearance of
elephant's hoofs. Our own costume had been strange enough, in all
conscience; but when Napoleon's continental system had been broken up
after Leipzig, and a free market had been once more opened out between
this country and foreign nations, fashions more strange and eccentric,
if possible, found their way into England. Thackeray, when writing his
"Vanity Fair," the scenes of which are laid prior and subsequent to the
battle of Waterloo, was fain to confess that he had intended to depict
his characters in their proper costumes; "but when he remembered the
appearance of people in those days, he had not the heart to disfigure
his heroes and heroines by costumes so hideous," and thenceforth he
habited these men and women of 1815 in the costume of the men and women
of 1848. George Cruikshank's "Monstrosities" are familiar to all
acquainted with his works; and his brother Robert and his contemporaries
were equally fond of ridiculing the preposterous fashions of their time.
We find in the year 1818 a pictorial satire by Robert, which shows us a
pair of _Dandies at Tea_, habited in the short-waisted, long-tailed
coats, tight breeches, terrific stocks, shirt collars, and top boots of
the period. "My dear fellow, Mr. Sim," one of them, asks, "is your tea
agreeable?" to which the other answers, "Charming, my dear Lollena;
where do you buy it?" They are seated in an attic, which, like that of
the cobbler, serves "for parlour and bedroom and all," and the washing
of the tenant hangs suspended on a line above the heads of the
interesting pair. We find another the same year, entitled, _Dandies
having a Treat_, wherein we are shown a couple of eccentricities in a
confectioner's shop; one of them, who eyes himself with much complacency
in the glass, has his back to us, and is habited, _à la Gilé_, in a very
tight coat, whose tail commences just below its collar and narrows to a
very fine point when it reaches its extremity; short wide trousers
terminate at the knees, at which points they are met by a pair of
Wellington boots. He entreats his equally strangely dressed companion to
pay no attention to the uncomplimentary remarks of certain rude people
who stand at the door and seem strongly inclined to subject them to the
discipline of the pump. The pretty girl in attendance expresses to
herself a hope that "the creatures will leave the shop," as she fears
the exasperated people will do some mischief. Another caricature of the
same year shows us _A Dandy Shoemaker in a Fright, or the Effects of
Tight-lacing_. In stooping to measure a lady's foot, the fellow's stays
have given way, and he evidently fears he shall tumble to pieces. In
another subject, Robert shows us a couple of _dandies diving_ into a
countryman's pockets, in the neighbourhood of St. James's Palace; others
are entitled respectively, _A Dandy put to his Last Chemisette, or
Preparing for a Bond Street Lounge_; _A Dandy Cock in Stays_; and _The
Hen-pecked Dandy_. Besides those already mentioned, I find four or five
other coarse caricatures of Robert's, published by Fores in 1818.

Robert Cruikshank was "a man about town" in those days, and the
"dandies" whom he and his fellow caricaturists satirized and ridiculed
were the sham "Corinthians" of his time. Apart from the idea of
caricature they must have been queer fellows--these men with the large
eye-glasses, squat broad-brimmed hats, huge cravats and collars,
cauliflower frills, tight coats, short bell-shaped trousers, and
well-spurred Wellington boots! In one of the satires of the time (which
I take to be Robert's) we see five of them preparing for conquest in a
hairdresser's shop; and the "make up" comprises, in addition to the
tremendous neckties, cauliflower frills, and top-boots of the period,
false calves and stays, a pair of which the Frenchman hairdresser is
lacing for one of his customers. Another of the party, who has
completed the upper part of his toilet, is so hampered with the
voluminous folds and stiffening of his cravat that he cannot wriggle
into his unmentionables. The caricaturists take us into the garrets of
these fellows, abodes of squalor and wretchedness, and show us that
beneath their exterior magnificence there is nothing, or next to
nothing. In a pair of rough anonymous satires--_The Dandy Dressing at
Home_ and _The Dandy Dressed Abroad_--the former shows us how the
completed figure is built up. The absence of a shirt is concealed by an
amply frilled "dickey," the dirty feet protrude from the well-nigh
footless stockings, the bare arms are clothed at the extremities only by
the cuffs, while a pair of huge seals dangling from a ribbon guard form
pendants to a latch-key instead of a gold watch. The fellow's washing
bill, which lies on the dressing-table before him, comprises four
items--all of them collars. On the ground, side by side with the
Wellington boots, which he himself has just been cleaning, lie the open
pages of "The Beau's Stratagem." In a sketch by the always coarse
satirist Williams, two of these fellows have been decoyed into an
infamous house and drugged, and the indignation of the bully and his
female assistants is intense when they find that their watches are not
even pinchbeck, but only pincushions.

The "Corinthian Kates" who figure in the satirical sketches of this
period are members of the _demi monde_. An excellent undated sketch,
signed "J. L. M. fect.," entitled, _A Dandyess_, is divided into two
compartments. The first scene shows us the completed figure (a most
absurd one), and the second (which is laid in the lady's garret) how the
magnificent result has been attained. We find her engaged in ironing her
chemisette; over the fire are suspended her stockings; on a stool near
her stand her bottles of cosmetic and a pot of rouge; on the floor her
"artificial hump"; while her preposterous bonnet and other articles of
costume hang from different articles of the scanty furniture.


Robert Cruikshank continues his attacks upon the fops in 1819. In that
year we meet with _A Dandy Sick_; _Dandies on their Hobbies_, and
_Female Lancers, or a Scene in St. James's Street_, chiefly remarkable
on account of the costume of the two men who figure therein. Besides
these we meet with a sort of pictorial allegory, entitled, _The
Mysterious Fair One, or the Royal Introduction to the Circassian
Beauty_, in which a foreign fair one is supposed to be introduced to the
Regent's harem. The veil being removed discovers to him the well-known
features of his neglected wife, from whom he recoils in abhorrence. The
bulky figure of the Regent who, under the influence of copious port wine
libations and general good living, had grown preposterously fat, is
admirably preserved by both the Cruikshanks. The head and wig, tapering
to an apex, remind one somewhat of the French _poire_ caricatures which
disturbed the serenity of Louis Philippe, and preceded the revolutionary
period of 1848.

Other caricatures by Robert of this year (1819) are labelled
respectively, _The Political Champion turned Resurrection Man_, having
reference to Cobbett and "Orator Hunt"; _The Master of the Ordnance
Exercising his Hobby_; _A Steward at Sea in a Vain Tempest, or Gaining
the Point of Matrimony in Spite of Squalls_; _A New Chancery Suit
Removed to the Scotch Bar_; _The Ladies' Accelerator_ (two women on
hobbies); _Collegians at their Exercises, or Brazen Nose Hobbies_; _A
New Irish Jaunting Car_; and a satire entitled _Landing at Dover and
Overhauling the Baggage_, which would appear to refer to some
incivilities on the part of the custom house authorities to the Persian
ambassador and his suite. The subject was probably only etched by the
artist from the design of another, and is so grossly treated that in
spite of the admirable workmanship we cannot further describe it.
Besides these we have the now well-known _Going to Hobby Fair_ (the only
caricature of Robert which would seem to be known to those who have
troubled themselves about him), and a far better one of contemporary
date, entitled, _Cruising on Land, or Going to Hobby Horse Fair_.


Among the caricatures on the popular side in connection with the queen's
trial in 1820, we find one by Robert, entitled, _The Secret Insult, or
Bribery and Corruption Rejected_, which has reference to the overtures
which, as we have seen in the previous chapter, were made to her by the
ministers in the hope of avoiding, if possible, a public exposure; and
here Lord Liverpool is represented in the act of offering to Her
Majesty a purse. "Abandon," he says, "your claim to the throne, change
your name and the livery, and retire to some distant part of the earth,
where you may never be seen or heard of any more; and if £50,000 per
annum will not satisfy you--what will?" To which the queen (who assumes
an appearance of virtuous indignation) replies, "Nothing but a crown."
Brougham turns his back, saying, "I turn my back on such dirty work as
this," the fact being, as we have seen, that he had really entered into
negotiations with the ministers on the queen's behalf, which she
afterwards angrily repudiated. The devil pats him on the back. "Well
done, Broom," he says; "you have done your business well." By the side
of the queen stands a figure, possibly meant for Alderman Wood, carrying
"a shield for the innocent," and "a sword for the guilty"; behind her in
the distance is a ship, bearing the title of "The Wooden Walls of Old

In our last chapter we mentioned the estimation in which the witnesses
against Caroline of Brunswick were held by her sympathizers and the
general public, and Robert's political views naturally inclined him to
take the popular side. Those who saw them before they were housed in
Cotton Garden, describe them as swarthy, dirty looking fellows, in
scanty ragged jackets and greasy leathern caps; at the bar of the House,
however, they looked as respectable as fine clothes and soap and water
could make them. To this a caricature of Robert's, entitled, _Preparing
the Witnesses--a View in Cotton Garden_, refers. Three dirty foreigners
are being washed, with no satisfactory result, in a bath labelled,
"Waters of Oblivion," "Non Mi Ricordo," and "Ministerial Washing Tub."
One of the operators (probably the Attorney-General, Sir Robert Gifford)
remarks that "he never had such a dirty job in his life"; seated around
are a number of equally dirty foreigners awaiting their turn. On the
same theme and in the same year we find _The Milan Commission_ (a very
rough affair); _The Master Cook and his Black Scullion composing a Royal
Hash_; and a satire on the alderman, who, in spite of his Carolinian and
popular sympathies, figures therein under the familiar title of "Mother


The following year gives us _All My Eye_ (a skit upon Hone's "Eulogium
on the Radical Press"), representing a large eye, within the pupil of
which we see a printing press, whereon rests a portrait of Queen
Caroline; and also an admirable work, divided into two compartments,
bearing respectively the titles of _The Morning after Marriage_, and
_Coke upon Albemarle--not Coke upon Littleton_.


A somewhat ludicrous affair of honour took place in 1822. In consequence
of some words used by the Duke of Bedford in reference to the Duke of
Buckingham at the Bedfordshire county meeting, a hostile meeting took
place in Kensington Gardens between the two noblemen on the 2nd of May.
The seconds were Lord Lynedock and Sir Watkin Williams Wynn. Both
parties fired together at a distance of twelve paces, but without
effect; when the Duke of Buckingham, observing that the Duke of Bedford
fired into the air, advanced to his grace, and remarking that for that
reason the affair could go no farther, said: "My Lord Duke, you are the
last man I wish to quarrel with; but you must be aware that a public
man's life is not worth preserving unless with honour." The Duke of
Bedford replied, that "upon his honour he meant no personal offence to
the Duke of Buckingham, nor to impute to him any bad or corrupt motive
whatever"; and here this somewhat absurd event terminated. Robert
commemorates it in a caricature, entitled, _A Shot from Buckingham to
Bedford_, which cannot be said to be complimentary to either of the
principals, one of the walls bearing the inscription in very large
letters of "Rubbish may be shot here." Another admirable caricature of
the year is entitled, _The Treadmill, or Stage-struck Heroes, Blacklegs,
and Cadgers stepping it to the tune of Mill, Mill O!_ a sort of general
satire; card-sharpers, decayed "Corinthians," and other vagabonds, are
undergoing a course of hard labour upon the wheel, which was then a
comparatively new invention,[52] their movements being accelerated by a
gaoler armed with a heavy whip, who bears some resemblance to, and is
probably intended for, the artist himself. A third excellent pictorial
satire of the same year bears the title of _Pope Mistaken_.


The year 1823 is remarkable for the interposition of the French Bourbon
king into Spanish politics. The Spanish military, under the influence of
Riego and other officers, and encouraged by the discontent of the middle
classes, had revolted in 1820 against the despotism of Ferdinand, and
succeeded in establishing a constitution, which, in spite of its
imperfections, was preferable to the absolute and irresponsible
government of the Spanish monarchy. This state of things was peculiarly
distasteful to Louis XVIII., on account of the evil example it afforded
to his subjects; and, fortified by the sympathy of the "Holy Alliance"
(which may be shortly described as a sort of trades union of sovereigns
to resist all political changes not originating with themselves), he
determined to put it down. In his speech to the chambers on the 28th of
January, he announced that, "the infatuation with which the
representations made at Madrid had been rejected, left little hope of
preserving peace. I have ordered," he said, "the recall of my minister;
one hundred thousand Frenchmen, commanded by a prince of my family [the
Duc d'Angoulème]--by him whom my heart delights to call my son--are
ready to march, invoking the God of St. Louis, for the sake of
preserving the throne of Spain to a descendant of Henry the Fourth, of
saving that fine kingdom from its ruin, and of reconciling it with
Europe." The real cause of interposition, however, is indicated a few
sentences afterwards: "_Let Ferdinand the Seventh be free to give to his
people institutions which they cannot hold but from him_, and which, by
securing their tranquillity, would dissipate the just inquietudes of
France, [and] hostilities shall cease from that moment."

We have neither time, space, nor inclination to relate the events of
this invasion; suffice it to say that, owing to the cowardice of the
Spaniards, it was a complete "walk over" for the French, who, in five
months after they had crossed the Bidassoa, had penetrated to Cadiz,
dispersed the Cortes, and restored the despotism of Ferdinand.

  R. CRUIKSHANK _fecit_. A. G.--_Published May, 1823._


  _Face p. 99._]

The contemplated crusade had aroused a certain amount of sympathy in
favour of Spain in England, but it did not go farther than the giving of
a splendid entertainment to the Spanish and Portuguese ambassadors at
the London Tavern on the 7th of March, under the presidentship of Lord
William Bentinck. The truth was that John Bull had not forgotten the
ungrateful and cowardly conduct of the Spaniards when we drove the
French out of their country in Napoleon's time; added to which England
was saddled with a heavy national debt, which made us still less
inclined to intermeddle with the affairs of our neighbours. Robert
Cruikshank produced a caricature in reference to our position, called,
_John Bull Flourishing in an Attitude of Strict Neutrality_, wherein he
shows us Spain in the act of imploring his assistance, which, however,
poor John is in no position to render, seeing that he wants help
himself, being placed in the stocks and heavily burdened with the weight
of "last war's taxes." In the distance appears fat Louis, mounted on a
cannon, driven by the Pope, Russia, Austria, and Prussia, in allusion,
of course, to the "Holy Alliance" (the three latter powers had recalled
their ambassadors from Madrid on the 5th of January), while the devil
condescends to lend his assistance by pushing on behind. This caricature
is probably the best that Robert ever designed. Another satire on the
same subject bears the title of _King Gourmand XVIII. and Prince
Posterior in a Fright_.


One of Robert's satires of this year, entitled _The Golden Football_,
has obvious reference to Hughes Ball, known at Eton by his surname of
Hughes only, but who took the further name of _Ball_ on coming into a
fortune of forty thousand a year left him by his uncle, Admiral Sir
Alexander Ball, and thenceforth received his appropriate nickname of the
"Golden Ball." He was considered a great catch by all the mothers in
London; but, notwithstanding his money, was unfortunate in love, being
jilted by Lady Jane Paget, rejected by Miss Floyd (afterwards the wife
of Sir Robert Peel), and then by Lady Caroline Churchill. The young
ladies hearing of his numerous disappointments, were disinclined to
encourage a man so proverbially unfortunate. By way, perhaps, of
revenge, Hughes Ball this year ran off with and married Mademoiselle
Mercandotti, _première danseuse_ at His Majesty's Theatre, a beautiful
girl of sixteen, reported in the scandal of the day to be a natural
daughter of the Earl of Fife. The incident of Lady Jane Paget we have
mentioned is thus referred to by Charles Molloy Westmacott, the Ishmael
of the press of his day, in the _English Spy_, a work which, as we shall
presently see, was also illustrated by the artist:--

  "Now, by my faith, it gives me pain
   To see thee, cruel Lady J----,
     Regret the _Golden Ball_.
   'Tis useless now: 'The Fox and Grapes'
   Remember, and avoid the apes
     Which wait an old maids' fall."

Other of Robert's satires of the same year bear the title of _The
Commons versus the Crown of Martyrdom, or King Abraham's Coronation
Deferred_; and _A View in Cumberland_, that is the royal duke of that
name--a most unpopular personage, and of course proportionately fertile
subject of satire in his time.


Among Robert's pictorial satires of 1824, I find one entitled _Arrogance
or Nonchalance? of the Tenth Reported_,--the "tenth" here referred to
being the Tenth Hussars. This distinguished regiment set the pencils of
the Brothers Cruikshank and their fellow caricaturists in motion at this
period, and I find an amazing number of caricatures of the date of 1824,
of which they form the subject. The officers would seem to have acquired
considerable unpopularity by the exclusive airs they gave themselves in
society, refusing to dance, declining introductions at public and
private balls, and otherwise assuming an arrogant and exclusive tone
which made them supremely ridiculous. So far did they carry these
absurdities, that they even declined to associate with an officer of
their own regiment unless he previously submitted to them the
particulars of his birth, parentage, and education, and general claim to
be admitted to the privilege of their august society. A certain Mr.
Battier, who seems to have been ignorant of the peculiar arrangement
they had established in opposition to the rules and policy of the
service, had obtained from the Duke of York a cornetcy in the regiment,
but not having submitted himself to the examination referred to, or
possibly not answering to the exclusive requirements of the regiment,
was forthwith sent to Coventry by his courteous brother officers. The
result, of course, was that the unlucky gentleman, finding no one to
speak to him, was forced to retire on half pay, which he was unfortunate
enough afterwards to forfeit by not unnaturally sending a challenge to
the colonel of the regiment.[53]


Maria Foote at this time was one of the most popular actresses in
London. Some years before she had come on a starring tour to Cheltenham,
a town much affected by the notorious Colonel Berkeley, who being
passionately devoted to the stage, and possessed moreover of some
histrionic ability, gallantly offered to perform for her benefit. The
colonel was notorious for his gallantries; under a promise of
marriage--which could not then, he said, be carried into effect,
inasmuch as he was then petitioning the Crown to grant him the dormant
peerage, which a marriage with an actress could not fail to
prejudice--he succeeded in accomplishing her seduction, and she
continued to live under his "protection" till, on the birth of her
second child, she arrived at the true conviction that he never had any
intention of fulfilling his promise. There was at this time a silly
fellow about town, Mr. Joseph Hayne, of Burderop Park, Wiltshire,
familiarly known (in reference to the colour of his coat) as "Pea Green
Hayne," who fell in love with and proposed to the fascinating actress.
There was no attempt at concealment on her part: it was stated at the
trial which followed that she herself wished to communicate to him the
circumstance of her connexion with Colonel Berkeley, when this gallant
gentleman saved her the trouble of doing so, and one night when they
were in the pit of the opera together, took the characteristic course of
making Hayne acquainted with the liaison, and the fact that it still
existed. Hayne immediately broke off the engagement; but soon afterwards
not only renewed it, but fixed the day of marriage. Again he broke it
off, again yielded to the fascinations of his enslaver, and this time
not only was the wedding-day fixed and the license obtained, but "Pea
Green Hayne" took a solemn vow that nothing should separate him from the
object of his affections. Believing that all was safe, Miss Foote now
threw up her engagement and disposed of her theatrical wardrobe, but the
weak-minded, vacillating creature, who could not summon up resolution
either to have or to leave her, let matters go on to the very day, and
again failed to put in an appearance. Some preliminary letters having
passed between the parties, Maria then issued a writ, and recovered
£3,000 damages in the action which followed. The plaintiff, who seven
years afterwards became Countess of Harrington, died in 1867.

"Pea Green" Hayne was also known as the "Silver Ball," in allusion to
his large income, which was smaller however than that enjoyed by his
friend and contemporary, Hughes Ball. After his exposure in the action
Foote _v._ Hayne, he received the far more appropriate nickname of

The opportunity of course was improved by the caricaturists, and
Robert's contributions on the subject (1824 and 1825) are labelled
respectively, _Miss Foote in the King's Bench Battery_; _Miss Foote
putting her Foot in it_; and _A Foot on the Stage and Asses in the Pit,
or a New Year's Piece for 1825_. Other pictorial satires of Robert's
bearing the date of 1824, are: _A Civic Louse in the State Bed_; _A Cut
at the City Cauliflower_; _The Corinthian Auctioneer_; two very coarse
but well drawn subjects--_Moments of Prattle and Pleasure_ and _Moments
of Parting with Treasure_; and an exquisitely drawn sketch bearing the
title of _Madame Catalani and the Bishop of Limbrig_, having reference
to some musical festival at Cambridge, the point of which has been lost,
but which is remarkable for the admirable likeness of the popular


The conduct of Colonel Berkeley in reference to the case Foote _v._
Hayne, called forth, as might have been expected, some severe strictures
from the press, and in particular Mr. Judge, editor of the _Cheltenham
Journal_, which place the colonel honoured with his patronage and
society, had occasionally indulged in animadversions on his conduct. In
one of the numbers of his paper an article appeared, in which some
satirical observations were made with reference to the annual "Berkeley
Hunt" ball. On the afternoon of that day Colonel Berkeley accompanied,
by two of his friends, called at Mr. Judge's residence, and being
invited to walk in, the colonel asked Mr. Judge if he would name the
author of the papers which had appeared in the _Journal_. Mr. Judge said
he did not know whom he had the honour of addressing, and on learning
who he was, proposed that he should call at the office of the paper,
"where he would give him every satisfaction." Colonel Berkeley replied,
"No, sir! Now, sir! Now, sir!" and without further notice commenced a
cowardly attack on the unarmed man by beating him _over the head_ and
face with the butt-end of a heavy hunting whip. To make the dastardly
affair more dastardly if possible, one of the two fellows with him stood
at the door, and the other near the fire place, so as to prevent Judge
from seizing any weapon or calling any one to his assistance. For this
ruffianly assault, which placed poor Judge for some time in considerable
danger of his life, he subsequently recovered substantial damages
against his cowardly antagonist. The Colonel got a far worse dressing
from Robert Cruikshank who, in a severe contemporary skit, named (in
allusion to the colonel's notorious illegitimacy) _Colonel Fitz
Bastard_, depicted him and his friends in the act of assaulting the
editor of the _Cheltenham Journal_.


The artist's tastes and sympathies threw him much in the society of
actors. The following year his thoroughly Bohemian friend, Edmund Kean,
was mulcted in £800 damages, in consequence of a disgraceful liaison
with the wife of Alderman Cox; and while audiences thronged the one
theatre to testify their sympathy for a favourite and popular actress,
they crowded the other to howl and hiss at the thoroughly disreputable
and disgraced tragedian. The episode is referred to by the artist in
three of his contemporary caricatures, labelled respectively, _Wolves
Triumphant, or a Fig for Public Opinion_; _A Scene from the Pantomime of
Cock-a-Doodle-Doo, lately performed at Drury Lane with unbounded
applause_; and the _Hostile Press, or Shakespeare in Danger_, all of
which contain perhaps the best theatrical portraits of the popular
tragedian which are extant.

Sir Walter Scott also figures in one of Robert's satires of this year
entitled, _The Great Unknown lately discovered in Ireland_, wherein he
is represented in Highland costume, with the Waverley novels on his
head, holding by the hand a small figure in hussar uniform, intended for
his son, Captain Scott of the 18th hussars, who this year had married
Miss Jobson, of Lochore. The pair after their marriage returned to
Ireland, where the captain was quartered, and where he and his wife were
visited by Sir Walter in August of this year. Although the fact was
pretty well known, the authorship of the novels was not avowed until
February of the following year, when with Sir Walter's consent it was
proclaimed by Lord Meadowbank at a theatrical dinner on the 27th of


A very curious personage makes his appearance in Robert's sketches of
this year, who would seem at first sight to be the most outrageously
caricatured of any of his subjects, and yet this in truth is not the
case. This person was the celebrated Claude Ambroise Seurat, "the living
skeleton," who was exhibited at the Chinese saloon in Pall Mall, and
whose portrait from three different points of view was taken by Robert
Cruikshank, and afterwards appeared in the first volume of Hone's
"Every-day Book," where a full account of this very singular personage
will be found. The repulsive object, who (with the exception of his
face) presented all the appearance of an attenuated skeleton, was
exhibited in a state of complete nudity with the exception of a fringe
of silk about his middle, from which (out of two holes cut for the
purpose) protruded his dreadful hip bones. Seurat, as might have been
expected, forms the subject of numerous contemporary caricatures; and in
one of these, by way of comical contrast, the worthy but corpulent
alderman, Sir William Curtis, distinguished by a similar scantiness of
attire, figures with the living skeleton in a lively _pas de deux_.
William Heath, in another of contemporary date, represents the fat
alderman standing on a map of England, and Seurat on a map of France.
Says Sir William: "I say, friend, did you ever eat turtle soup?" to
which Claude Ambroise replies, "No, sare; but I did eat de soupe
maigre." In another (also I think by the same artist), labelled,
_Foreign Rivals for British Patronage_, the living skeleton and a
favourite male Italian singer of the time are represented in the act of
preparing for mortal combat.[54]

A number of the caricatures of 1825 (and among them many by Robert) are
singularly illustrative of the morals of the time. About this year had
been published a work professing to contain the memoirs of an apt
disciple of Mrs. Mary Anne Clarke, which was made the vehicle of
extorting money. The _modus operandi_ appears to have been as follows.
In the month of March, 1825, a well-known M.P. of that day received a
letter from this creature in the following terms:--

    À PARIS.

  Sir,--People are buying themselves so fast out of my book, ...[55]
  that I have no time to attend to them; should be sorry not to give
  each _a chance_, if they _chuse to be out_. You are quizzed most
  _unmercifully_. Two noble dukes have lately taken my word, and I have
  never named them. I am sure ---- would say you might trust me never to
  publish, or _cause_ to be published, aught about you, if you like to
  forward £200 directly to me, else it will be too late, as the last
  volume, in which you _shine_, will be the property of the editor, and
  in his hands. Lord ---- says he will answer for aught I agree to; so
  will my husband. Do _just as you like_--consult only yourself. I get
  as much by a small _book_ as you will give me for taking you out, or
  more. I attack no poor men, because they cannot help themselves.

  "Adieu. Mind, I have no time to write again, as what with writing
  books, and then altering them for those who _buy out_, I am done
  up--_frappé en mort_.

  "Don't trust to bag[56] with your answer."

That this extraordinary communication was no idle threat was proved by
the fact that a respectable statuary, carrying on business in
Piccadilly, who had refused to pay _black-mail_, brought an action for
libel in the King's Bench on the 1st of July against a man named
Stockdale, publisher of the infamous production referred to, and
recovered £300 damages. The same year Popple, the printer, brought his
action against this fellow; but Mr. Justice Best directed him to be
nonsuited, on the ground that he was not entitled to remuneration for
printing a work of such a character.

The Catholic Relief Bill, which was thrown out this year, is the subject
of several of Robert's satires, bearing the titles of _John Bull versus
Pope Bull_; _Defenders of the Faith_; _The Hare Presumptuous, or a
Catholic Game Trap_; _A Political Shaver, or the Crown in Danger_. _The
Catholic Association, or Paddy Coming it too Strong_, has reference to
Mr. Goulburn's motion to suppress the Catholic Association of Ireland,
which was carried by 278 to 123, and the third reading by a majority of
130. The language used by Mr. O'Connell on the occasion was so strong
that an indictment was subsequently preferred against him, which,
however, was thrown out by the grand jury. _Matheworama_ for 1825
depicts that celebrated impersonator in thirteen of his characters.
_Duelling_ deserves particular mention by reason of the admirably
designed landscape and figures. It represents one of the principals (who
looks very far from comfortable) waiting, with his second and a doctor,
the advent of the other parties. _The Bubble Burst, or the Ghost of an
old Act of Parliament_, has reference to the speculation mania of 1825.
Others of his satires for the year are labelled respectively, _Frank and
Free, or Clerical Characters in 1825_; _A Beau Clerk for a Banking
Concern_; _The Flat Catcher and the Rat Catcher_; and _A Pair of
Spectacles, or the London Stage in 1824-5_, which, although unsigned
and bearing no initials, I have no hesitation in assigning to Robert

I am unable to indicate the dates of the following: _Football_, very
clever, and probably earlier than any of those already mentioned;
_Waltzing_, "dedicated with propriety to the lord chamberlain," a very
coarse and severe satire upon the immoralities of the Prince Regent.
Besides those we have already mentioned, we have others with which the
volume miscalled "Cruikshankiana" (so often republished) has made the
general public probably more familiar, such as the _Monstrosities of
1827_; _A Dandy Fainting, or an Exquisite in Fits_; _The Broom Sold_
(Lord Brougham); _Household Troops_ (a skit on domestic servants); and
_A Tea-party, or English Manners and French Politeness_, all of which
may be dismissed with the remark that they are the worst specimens of
Robert's work which could probably have been selected.


With the year 1825, our record of Isaac Robert Cruikshank's caricature
work somewhat abruptly terminates. We cannot assert that after that date
it wholly ceased, but, inasmuch as we have selected those we have named
from a mass of some of the rarest pictorial satires published between
the years 1800 and 1830, I think we are fairly justified in assuming
that after this period his contributions to this branch of comic art
became fewer. If this be the fact, it confirms the conclusion at which
we have arrived, that at this time caricature had begun its somewhat
hasty decline. Those I have named comprise over seventy examples; and
their value, which is great on account of their scarcity, will be
increased by the possibility that in the conception and execution of
some of them the mind and hand of Robert might have been assisted by
those of the more celebrated brother. "When my dear brother Robert,"
says George in writing to the compiler of the famous catalogue of his
own works, "when my dear brother Robert (who in his latter days omitted
the Isaac) left off portrait painting, and took almost entirely to
designing and etching, I assisted him at first to a great extent in some
of his drawings on wood and his etchings." If this be the case, it is at
least possible that he lent the assistance of his cunning hand and
original fancy to the preparation of some of these contributions to
pictorial satire. It appears to us, therefore, that a just idea of
George's own work as an artist can scarcely be arrived at (especially
his share of the famous "Life in London") until we have first considered
the early work of himself and his brother Robert as graphic satirists
and caricaturists. They were closely associated in artistic work during
their early career; and it was not until both had given up social and
political satire, and devoted themselves to the then comparatively new
field of book illustration and etching on copper, that the superiority,
originality, and genius of the younger brother became so manifest and


  [50] The name given him by Bernard Blackmantle.

  [51] Further particulars of them will be found in the "Memoirs of the
    Duchess d'Abrantes" (Madame Junot). The fashions of the years which
    immediately preceded the Revolution appear to have been almost as
    funny. I have somewhere seen a French semi-caricature depicting
    fashionables of the Palais Royal in 1786, and the people who had
    their heads cut off in '93 were almost as queer as the dandies of the
    Directory and the Consulate.

  [52] The treadmill was the invention of Mr. (afterwards Sir William)
    Cubitt, of Ipswich. It was erected at Brixton gaol in 1817, and was
    afterwards gradually introduced into other prisons.

  [53] The Marquis of Londonderry.

  [54] What became of Seurat we do not know, but we lately came across
    the following: "the Siamese twins married; the _living skeleton_ was
    crossed in love, but afterwards consoled himself with a corpulent
    widow." The authority is George Augustus Sala in "Twice Round the
    Clock." We strongly suspect that the wit extracted the information
    out of his own "inner consciousness."

  [55] We purposely omit the title.

  [56] Presumably post "bag."


_ROBERT CRUIKSHANK_ (_Continued_).


In perusing various articles on George Cruikshank in which reference is
made to the "Life in London," we have been struck with the almost utter
absence of Robert Cruikshank's name; further than this, it seems to have
been the almost universal impression that it was his association with
George on this memorable book which secured such reputation as Robert
himself enjoyed. So far, however, was this from being the case, that not
only was Robert, in 1821, a caricaturist and satirist of acknowledged
reputation, but he was believed at this very time by the general public
to be the cleverer artist of the two. Robert, indeed, has been treated
with curious injustice in relation to this famous book, which owes its
very existence (as we shall presently see) to him alone. While according
to George (as in effect they do) the whole merit of the performance,
many of the writers of the articles referred to acknowledge that they
find it impossible to assign to him his share of the illustrations; and
that difficulty will be largely increased to any one who has studied
Robert Cruikshank's caricature work. The fact is that few of these
famous plates will bear comparison with the best of Robert's pictorial
satires; while the kindred book of the "English Spy," which was
illustrated (with the exception of one plate) by Robert alone, contains
designs quite equal to those which adorn the "Life in London." When it
is admitted that Robert executed three parts of these illustrations,
while those who have written upon him say that they are unable to
identify George's share of the work,[57] it seems unjust (to say the
least of it) that the credit of the _whole_ performance should be
assigned to him alone. Let us be just to Robert, even though his merit
as a draughtsman has been lost sight of in the fame which the younger
brother achieved by virtue of his greater genius.


The reader need not be told--and we are not going to tell him what he
knows already--that the "Life" was dramatized by four writers for
different theatrical houses. The most successful version was the one
produced at the Adelphi, previously known as the _Sans Pareil_ theatre.
The first season of this house, which Messrs Jones and Rodwell had
recently purchased for £25,000, was only moderately successful; but the
fortune of the second was made by "Tom and Jerry." Night after night
immediately after the opening of the doors, the theatre was crowded to
the very ceiling; the rush was tremendous. By three o'clock in the
afternoon of every day the pavement of the Strand had become impassable,
and the dense mass which occupied it had extended by six o'clock far
across the roadway. Peers and provincials, dukes and dustmen, all grades
and classes of people swelled the tide which night after night rolled
its wave up the passage of the Adelphi. It was a compact wedge; on it
moved, slowly, laboriously, amid the shouts and shrieks, the justling
and jostling of the crowd which composed it, leavened by the
intermixture of numbers of the swell mob, who plied their vocation with
indefatigable industry and impunity. Nevertheless, the reader will be
surprised to learn (and it is probably little known) that in spite of
this amazing popularity, the first night of "Tom and Jerry" met with
such unexpected opposition that Mr. Rodwell declared it should never be
played again. Luckily for himself and his partner he was induced to
reconsider this decision. The tide was taken at the flood, and it
led--as the poet assures us that it will lead when so taken--to an
assured fortune.

  ROBERT CRUIKSHANK. _From "The Universal Songster."_

    "By this take a warning, for noon, night, or morning,
     The devil's in search of attorneys."]

  ROBERT CRUIKSHANK. _From "The Universal Songster."_

  "With her flames and darts, and apple tarts, her ices, trifles,
  cherry-brandy, O, she knew not which to choose, for she thought them
  both the Dandy."

  _Face p. 110._]

One night a stranger entered the private box of the Duke of York at the
Adelphi, and seated himself immediately behind his Royal Highness,
who took but little notice of the intruder. The mysterious stranger had
been brought in and was fetched by a plain green chariot; and the few
that saw him said that he was a portly gentleman, wrapped in a long
great coat and muffled up to the eyes. Keeping himself well behind his
Royal Highness, the portly stranger took a deep but unostentatious
interest in the performance. In his Haroun al-Raschid character he had
been present, with his friend Lord Coleraine (then Major George Hanger),
at some of the actual scenes represented; and in particular, by virtue
of the fact of his wearing "a clean shirt," had been called upon by the
ragged chairman at a convivial meeting of the "Cadgers" to favour them
with a song, which had been sung for him by his friend and proxy the
Major. The mysterious stranger in fact, as the reader has already
guessed, was his gracious Majesty King George the Fourth, and his visit
_incognito_ having been made by previous notice and arrangement, the
passages were kept as clear of the general public as possible.

The scenery of the Adelphi version was superintended by Robert
Cruikshank himself. "Tom and Jerry" brought a strange mixture of
visitors to attend the rehearsals. Corinthians (men of fashion)--members
of the turf and the prize ring, who found a common medium of
conversation in the sporting slang which Mr. Egan has made so familiar
to us. Naturally there was a mixture. Tom Cribb, whom the Cruikshanks
had temporarily elevated into the position of a hero, was indispensable;
and the silver cup which figures in Robert's sketch was every night made
use of in the scene depicting the champion's pot-house sanctum. Among
the frequenters at these rehearsals was a quiet man of unusually
unobtrusive deportment and conversation,--this man was Thurtell, the
cold-blooded murderer of Mr. Weare.

Since the days of the "Beggars' Opera," a success equal to that which
attended the "Life in London," and its several dramatized versions by
Barrymore, Charles Dibdin, Moncrieff, and Pierce Egan, had been unknown.
The exhausted exchequers of four or five theatres were replenished; and
as in the days of the "Beggars' Opera" the favourite songs of that piece
were transferred to the ladies' fans, and highwaymen and abandoned
women became the heroes and heroines of the hour, so, in like manner,
the Cruikshanks' designs were now transferred to tea-trays, snuff-boxes,
pocket-handkerchiefs, screens, and ladies' fans, and the popular
favourites of 1821 and 1822 were "Corinthian Tom," "Jerry Hawthorn,"
"Bob Logic," "Bob the dustman," and "Corinthian Kate."

The success of "Life in London" was not regarded with equal satisfaction
by all classes of the community; the serious world was horribly
scandalized. Zealous, honest, fervid, and terribly in earnest, these
good folks, in their ignorance of the world and of human nature, only
added to the mischief which it was their honest wish to abate. They
proclaimed the immorality of the drama; denounced "Tom and Jerry" from
the pulpit; and besieged the doors of the play houses with a perfect
army of tract droppers. Anything more injudicious, anything less
calculated to achieve the end which these good people had in view, I can
scarcely imagine; for it is a well-known fact that the best method of
making a book or a play a "commercial success," in England, is to throw
doubts on its moral tendency.[58] The more respectable portion of the
press did better service to their cause by showing that, in spite of
their popularity, "Tom and Jerry" were doing mischief, and that the
theatres lent their aid to disseminate the evil, by nightly regaling the
female part of society "with vivid representations of the blackest sinks
of iniquity to be found in the metropolis." Called on to defend his
drama, Moncrieff, strange to say, proved himself no wiser than his
assailants. All he could allege in its behalf was that "the obnoxious
scenes of life were only shown that they might be avoided; the danger of
mixing in them was strikingly exemplified; and every incident tended to
prove"--what? why,--"_that happiness was only to be found in the
domestic circle_"! This was special pleading with a vengeance! Of course
all that the theatres really cared to do was to fill their exhausted
exchequers; while as for Bohemian Robert and his friend Egan, the idea
of making the "Life in London" a moral lesson never once entered their
heads. The artist however was shrewd enough to take note of the
observation for future use; and seven years later on, when he and Egan
produced their "Finish to the Adventures of Tom, Jerry, and Logic in
their Pursuits through Life in and out of London," endeavoured to profit
by the storm which had been raised by the good people of 1821, by
tagging a clumsy moral to the sequel.

By this time, however, the excitement which had attended the original
work had evaporated; by this time, too, the public had learnt to
discriminate between the pencils of the brothers Cruikshank; and the
"Finish," as compared with the original "Life," fell comparatively flat.
It made however some sort of sensation in its day, but has become not
only a scarce book, but one that is little sought after. The genius and
reputation of George and the pen of Thackeray have kept alive the
popularity of the "Life,"[59] while the "Finish"--left to the unaided
but clever hand of Robert--has like himself been almost forgotten.

And yet it scarcely merits this fate. It contains thirty-six etchings by
Robert Cruikshank, some of them of singular merit. Among them may be
mentioned, _The Duchess of Dogood_; _Splendid Jim_; _Logic Visiting his
Old Acquaintance on Board the Fleet_; _Corinthian Kate in the Last Stage
of Consumption, Disease, and Inebriety_; and if not the production of a
genius, the hand of an artist of singular merit, ability, and power is
manifest in the etchings entitled, _The Hounds at a Standstill_;
_Logic's Upper Storey_; and _The End of Corinthian Kate_.


Although modestly claiming for himself the merits of this book, Pierce
Egan stands in relation to it in the position of a showman, and nothing
more. He is not even entitled to the credit of being the
originator,--for the originator and suggestor was Robert Cruikshank, who
informs us of the fact (after his own characteristic fashion) by way of
footnote to his frontispiece to the "Finish."[60] But Egan is
undoubtedly a clever showman; if he displays rather more vulgarity than
we altogether like, we must not forget the audience to whom he addresses
himself, and for whom indeed his show is specially intended. We cannot
admit that the popularity of this book was _entirely_ due to the merit
of the artists whose canvas he elucidates and (after his own fashion)
explains. In common fairness some credit should be conceeded to Egan
himself. Of literary talents he had not a particle; and if he lacked
taste and refinement, it may at least be urged in his behalf that the
age was not one of refinement, and that sixty years ago we had scarcely
emancipated ourselves from the barbarism and vulgarity some remnants of
which had descended to us from the time of George the Second. The bent
of his taste and the scope of his abilities may be guessed from the fact
that his "account of the trial of John Thurtell, the murderer," passed
into at least _thirteen_ editions. A man of this stamp could scarcely be
expected to recognise the true value of the work with which he had the
honour to be associated; he never looked beyond his patrons of the day,
and as a natural consequence posterity has troubled itself little about
him. You will search the biographical dictionaries in vain for any
account of him;[61] and this oblivion he scarcely deserves, for not only
was he one of the most popular men of sixty years ago, but he would
scarcely have attained that position without a fair share of merit. He
was not deficient in energy, and his talent is shown by the fact that he
understood and (in a measure) led the taste of his day, taking advantage
of his knowledge to raise himself to a position unattainable had such
taste been of a more elevated and refined character. His descriptive
powers (such as they were) were sufficient to procure him the post of
recorder of the "Doings of the Ring" on the staff of the _Weekly
Dispatch_, which post he occupied at the time he officiated as literary
showman to "Tom and Jerry." He had however tried many trades,--had been
in turn a compositor, bookseller, sporting writer, newspaper reporter,
and even secretary to an Irish theatrical manager. The success of "Life
in London," which he arrogated to himself, raised up a crop of enemies
as well as friends, and he soon afterwards received his _congé_ from the
proprietors of the _Dispatch_. Pierce Egan, however, was not a man to be
daunted by any such discouragement; he was found equal to the occasion,
meeting his employers' _coup d'état_ by starting a sporting paper of his
own, to which he gave the name of his successful book,--_Pierce Egan's
Life in London, and Sporting Guide_. This counter movement proved the
germ of a great enterprise. Probably his venture was no very great
success; it ran only for three years from its commencement on the 1st of
February, 1824. On the 28th of October, 1827, _Egan's Life in London_
was sold by auction to a Mr. Bell, and thenceforth assumed its well
known and now time honoured title of _Bell's Life in London_.


Another friend of the artist was Charles Molloy Westmacott, as he called
himself, but who is supposed to have been--_filius nullius_ or _filius
populi_--the child of Mrs. Molloy, a pretty widow who kept a tavern at
Kensington. Westmacott was one of a class of writers who not only
existed but thrived in the early part of our century by the levying of
literary black-mail. The _modus operandi_ (as given by Mr. William
Bates, from whom we derive our information respecting this man) appears
to have been as follows: "Sometimes a vague rumour or hint of scandal,
accompanied perchance by a suggestive newspaper paragraph, was conveyed
to one or more of the parties implicated, with a threat of further
inquiry into its truth, and a full exposure of the circumstances which
excited the sender's virtuous indignation. This, if the selected victim
was a man of nervous, timid temperament, often produced the desired
effect; and although possibly entirely innocent of the allegation, he
preferred to purchase silence, and escape the suspicion which publicity
does not fail to attach to a name. If, on the other hand, no notice was
taken of the communication, the screw received some further turns. A
narrative was drawn up, and printed off, in the form of a newspaper
paragraph, and was transmitted to the parties concerned, with a letter,
intimating that it had been 'received from a correspondent,' and that
the publisher thought fit, prior to publication, to ascertain whether
those whose names were mentioned desired to correct, modify, or cancel
any part of the statement. There is no doubt that very large sums have
been extorted by these scoundrelly means, and a vast amount of anxiety
and misery occasioned."[62] This was "the sort of man" that Charles
Molloy Westmacott appears to have been; and I learn on the same
authority that by these means he was enabled in one instance alone to
net not much less than a sum of £5,000. "Pulls" of this kind enabled
this fellow to live at his ease in a suburban retreat situated somewhere
between Barnes and Richmond, which he fitted up (for he considered
himself, as some others of his more modern class appear to do, a "man of
letters") with books and pictures.


In 1825 this man brought out, under his pseudonym of "Bernard
Blackmantle," a veritable _chronique scandaleuse_ of the time, entitled,
"The English Spy," the title page of which describes it as "an original
work, characteristic, satirical, and humorous, containing scenes and
sketches in every rank of society; being portraits of the Illustrious
Eminent, Eccentric and Notorious, drawn from the Life by Bernard
Blackmantle." This extraordinary work presents us with pictures of
"life" at Eton, at Oxford, and in fashionable society in London,
Brighton, Cheltenham, Bath, and elsewhere; and the seventy-two admirable
copperplate aqua-tinted etchings, with one exception (which is by the
veteran Rowlandson), are the work of Isaac Robert Cruikshank. This is a
far rarer and more valuable book than the "Life in London." In place of
"Corinthian" hook-nosed Tom, rosy-cheeked Jerry, and the vulgar
_gobemouche_ Logic, we find figuring amongst the interesting groups,
scenes, and characters all the notabilities of the day: celebrities such
as George the Fourth and his favourite sultana the Marchioness of
Conyngham, the Princess Augusta, Charles Kemble, Matthews, Fawcett,
Farren, Grimaldi, Macready, Young, T. P. Cooke, Elliston, Dowton,
Harley, Munden, Liston, Wallack, Madame Vestris, Townsend (the Bow
Street "runner"), "Pea Green" Hayne, Lord William Lennox, Colonel
Berkeley, Hughes Ball, and others. The etchings are singularly clear and
distinct, and the colouring bright and pleasing. Among the illustrations
which specially deserve notice are: _The Oppidans' Museum_; _The Eton
Montem_ (an admirable design); _The First Bow to Alma Mater_; _College
Comforts_ (a freshman taking possession of his rooms); _Kensington
Gardens Sunday Evenings, Singularities of 1824_ (woodcut); _The Opera
Green-room, or Noble Amateurs viewing Foreign Curiosities_; _Oxford
Transports, or Albanians doing Penance for Past Offences_; _The King at
Home, or Mathews at Carlton House_; _A Visit to Billingsgate_;
_Characters on the Steyne, Brighton_; _The Cogged Dice, Interior of a
Modern Hell_; _City Ball at the Mansion House_; _The Wake_; _The
Cyprians' Ball at the Argyle Rooms_; _The Post Office Bristol, Arrival
of the London Mail_; _The Fancy Ball at the Upper Rooms, Bath_; and
_Milsom Street and Bond Street_, containing portraits of Bath

The so-called _Oppidans'[63] Museum_ is composed of the signs stolen by
Eton scapegraces from the local tradesmen; a mock court is in progress,
at which the injured parties attend and either claim or receive
compensation for their stolen property. The tradesmen in the plate
before us look anything but injured persons, and as a matter of fact the
award is sufficiently ample to make amends for all damage. The two
persons officiating as assessors and apportioning compensation to the
various claimants, are Westmacott and "Robert Transit" (the artist
himself). The illustration is full of life and character. Among the
groups may be noticed a young fellow holding a bull-terrier suspended by
its teeth from a handkerchief; a bet depends on the dog's patience and
strength of jaw, and an interested companion watches the result,
chronometer in hand. _The King at Home_, represents a scene which is
said to have actually taken place when Mathews was giving his
entertainment at Carlton House. The performer was imitating Kemble, when
the king started up, and to the surprise of every one, particularly of
Mathews, interrupted the performance by a personal and very clever
imitation of the actor, who, by the way, had taught him elocution.
This, indeed, was one of George's strong points, who, if not a good
king, was at least an admirable mimic. Says old Dr. Burney (writing to
his daughter on the 12th of July, 1805), "He is a most excellent mimic
of well-known characters; had we been in the dark, any one would have
sworn that Dr. Parr and _Kemble_ were in the room."[64] In this plate we
find likenesses not only of the king and of Mathews, but also of the
Princess Augusta and the too celebrated Marchioness of Conyngham.

Thomas Rowlandson's single pictorial contribution to the "English Spy,"
_R---- A----ys of Genius Reflecting on the True Line of Beauty at the
Life Academy_, is described by Mr. Grego under date of 1825. This is not
the only time in which the artist was associated in work with
Rowlandson. There is a rare work (one of an annual series)--"The Spirit
of the Public Journals," for the year 1824, with explanatory notes by C.
M. Westmacott, a collection of whimsical extracts from the press, which
appeared in print in the previous season, which has illustrations on
wood by four distinguished coadjutors: Thomas Rowlandson, George
Cruikshank, Isaac Robert Cruikshank, and Theodore Lane.


The Foote _v._ Hayne affair mentioned in our last chapter afforded grist
for the kind of mill driven by literary blacklegs of the class of
"Bernard Blackmantle." The black-mail system was tried at first, and
when that failed he produced the now rare _FitzAlleyne of Berkeley: a
Romance of the Present Times_, a pair of libellous volumes, the
_dramatis personæ_ of which comprise the persons whose names were
mentioned in connection with the case. "Maria Pous" was of course Maria
Foote; Samuel Pous, her father; Lord A----y, Alvanley; Major H----r,
Major George Hanger, afterwards Lord Coleraine; Optimus, Mr. Tom Best
(who shot Lord Camelford in a duel); the Pea-green Count and FitzAlleyne
of Berkeley speak for themselves; while "Mary Carbon" is the butcher's
daughter of Gloucester, mother of the Colonel, and afterwards Countess
of Berkeley. Such a character as Molloy, otherwise Westmacott, was
bound to get sometimes into trouble (in these days he would probably
receive his reward for "endeavouring to extort money by threats"); and
if he did not get exactly what he deserved, he did get, on the tenth of
October, 1830, a tremendous thrashing from Charles Kemble. References to
the memorandum books of this Ishmaelite of the press, in which he
entered (for future use) some of the scandalous chronicles of his time,
and which were offered for sale at his death in 1868, will be found in
Mr. Bates's interesting book, from which we have already quoted.


Returning to his friend and coadjutor, Robert Cruikshank, the best of
the artist's coloured illustrations to the "English Spy" are contained
in the first volume; in the second he falls into those habits of
carelessness which, with all his ability and artistic talent, were a
besetting weakness. Robert lacked the genius, the fine fancy, the
careful, delicate handling of George. Up to the publication of the
"Life," the brothers as we have seen had worked together frequently, but
after this period they separated. George had already achieved one of his
earliest triumphs in book illustration--"The Points of Humour," which
provoked the universal admiration of the critics, and proclaimed him one
of the most original geniuses of the time. The "Life," however, had made
both brothers famous, and the general public had scarcely yet learnt to
distinguish between the pencils of George and Robert. This confusion was
taken advantage of by unscrupulous publishers (a practice at which
Robert himself seems to have connived) to trade upon the popularity of
the Cruikshank name. We frequently find, for instance, in literary
advertisements of the time, that a forthcoming book is illustrated by
"Cruikshank," and the work we have just named is a case in point. No
sooner had the "Points of Humour" appeared and made their mark, than
they were followed by an announcement by Sherwood, Jones & Co., of the
"Points of Misery," the letterpress by Charles Molloy Westmacott, and
the designs by "Cruikshank," that is to say--Robert. Although this
publication is marred by the slovenliness of execution which
characterised the artist in his careless moods, a few of the designs
are excellent, and the tailpieces--_A Six Inside_, at page 36; _Cleaned
Out_, at page 88; and the _Pawn Shop_, at page 87--suffice to show of
how much better work Robert Cruikshank was capable. George, as was usual
with him on these occasions, was horribly annoyed, and loudly and (as it
seems to us) unnecessarily proclaimed to the world that he had no
connection with the work. Probably this manifesto did no good to a book
little calculated either by its literary or pictorial merits to command
success; and as the copy before us remained uncut from the date of the
publication until the present, the inference is that the speculation of
Messrs. Sherwood, Jones & Co., proved scarcely a remunerative one.

Among the forgotten books of half a century ago, we meet with one whose
title reminds us of the "Life in London." It is called, "Doings in
London; or, Day and Night Scenes of the Frauds, Frolics, Manners, and
Depravities of the Metropolis." It came out in threepenny numbers, in
1828, and its professed object (in the queer language of George Smeeton,
its compiler and publisher) was to "show vice and deception in all their
real deformity, and not by painting in glowing colours the fascinating
allurements, the mischievous frolics and vicious habits of the
profligate, the heedless, and the debauchee, tempt youth to commit those
irregularities which often lead to dangerous consequences, not only to
themselves but also to the public." This shot of course was aimed at
Pierce Egan, who, engaged at that time in bringing out the "Finish," not
unnaturally considered these "Doings" an attempt to derive profit by an
indirect infringement of his own title. The title in fact _was_ a
misleading one, and the book a specimen of a class of useless literature
of the time, by which paste-and-scissors information compiled from
books, newspapers, and statistics by some one at best imperfectly
acquainted with his subject, was attempted to be conveyed by means of
questions and answers, supplemented by dreary and unnecessary remarks of
a moralizing tendency. The persons in whose company Smeeton would send
us round, in order that we may form a just conception of the "vice and
deception in all their real deformity," of which he speaks, are a
couple of idiots, one Peregrine Wilson, and an attendant mentor, whom we
drop at the earliest convenient opportunity. Information combined with
morality is all very well. The "History of Sandford and Merton" may have
been, as Lord Houghton assures us it was, "the delight of the youth of
the first generation of the present century." As one of the youth of the
generation referred to, we refuse to admit it, and we are perfectly
certain that the youth of the present generation would have nothing
whatever to do with it. We resign ourselves preferentially to the
guidance of Isaac Robert and George Cruikshank, sensible that they at
least, while conversant with the scenes they so graphically describe,
will not bore us with unnecessary moral reflections. We prefer, if the
truth must be told, to "sport a toe among the Corinthians at Almack's"
with hooked-nosed Tom and rosy-cheeked Jerry; to visit with these merry
and by no means strait-laced persons, Mr. O'Shaunessy's rooms in the
Haymarket; the back parlour of the respected Thomas Cribb, ex-champion
of England; to take wine with them "in the wood" at the London Docks; to
enjoy with them, if they will, "the humours of a masquerade supper at
the opera house." The work which Smeeton designed with such indifferent
success was subsequently carried out in a far more efficient manner by
Mr. James Grant, in his "Sketches in London,"[65] and at a later date by
Mr. Mayhew, in his well-known "London Labour and the London Poor."

The "Doings in London" owe whatever value they possess to the
thirty-nine curious designs on wood of Isaac Robert Cruikshank, engraved
by W. C. Bonner, which, on the whole fair examples of his workmanship in
this style, strongly remind us of the smaller woodcuts in Hone's
"Every-Day Book."

The best specimens, however, of Robert's designs on wood are those which
will be found in two small volumes, known indifferently as "Facetiæ" and
"Cruikshank's Comic Album," which contain a series of _jeux d'esprits_,
published between the years 1830 and 1832, and comprising _Old Bootey's
Ghost_ and _The Man of Intellect_, by W. F. Moncrieff; _The High-mettled
Racer_ and _Monsieur Nongtongpaw_, by Charles Dibdin; _Margate and
Brighton_; _The Devil's Visit_; _Steamers and Stages_; _Monsieur
Touson_; _Monsieur Mallet_, by H. W. Montague; _Mathew's Comic Annual_
(a miserable _mélange_ by our friend Pierce Egan); the famous _Devil's
Walk_, by Coleridge and Southey, etc., etc. These little volumes, which
are now rare, contain nearly one hundred excellent examples of Robert
Cruikshank's workmanship, the woodcuts being executed after the artist's
designs by W. C. Bonner and other wood engravers of eminence. We can
stay only to describe one, which illustrates one of the many experiences
of John Bull in his memorable visit to France. Struck with the
appearance of a French lady, "young and gay," the stanza tells us--

  "Struck by her charms he ask'd her name
     Of the first man he saw;
   From whom, with shrugs, no answer came
     But, '_Je vous n'entends pas._'"

Three other books (two of them exceedingly rare) must suffice to
complete our survey of Robert's merits as a designer and book
illustrator. These are "Colburn's Kalendar of Amusements" (1840), "Job
Crithannah's Original Fables" (1834), and Eugene Sue's "Orphan." There
is an Irishman sitting on a barrel in one of the woodcuts to the
"Kalendar," who quite equals any of the Hibernians of George. The
eighty-four designs to the "Fables" are admirable specimens of the
artist's best manner, and George himself rarely executed better
illustrations than those of the _Farmer and the Pointer_, at page 110,
_The Cow and the Farmer_, at page 163, and _The Old Woman and her Cat_,
at page 219. This rare and choice book abounds with admirable
tailpieces; one of which exhibits a sufferer down in the agonies of
gout, the treatment of which subject may even be compared with the more
elaborate and admirable design by the brother described by Thackeray.
Sue's "Orphan" has numerous carefully executed etchings by the artist,
after the style and manner of his brother; in the very signature,
"Robert Cruikshank," we trace a distinct copy of George's peculiar
trademark or sign-manual. Mr. Walter Hamilton, in his essay on the
brother, presents us with a dozen copies of Robert's designs, eight of
which, although unacknowledged, are taken from Crithannah's "Fables,"
and will bear as much comparison with the original and beautiful
woodcuts as the work of a common sign-painter with a finished painting
by Landseer. A detailed but probably imperfect list of the artist's book
work will be found in the _appendix_.

The name of Robert Cruikshank has slipped out of the place it once
occupied in public estimation; and his good work and his poor work being
equally scarce, his name and his claims to rank high among the number of
English caricaturists and comic artists have been forgotten even by the
survivors of the generation to which he himself belonged. In bringing to
the remembrance of those who do know, and to the knowledge of those who
do not know, some of the work which entitled him in our judgment to
occupy a leading place amongst the number of those of whom we write, we
have endeavoured to brush away the dust of oblivion which for so many
years has obscured the name and reputation of an artist, who, in spite
of much slovenliness and carelessness of execution, was both an able
caricaturist and a skilful draughtsman. George writes of his dead
brother in terms of affection, and describes him as "a very clever
miniature and portrait painter, and also a designer and etcher;" his
friend and coadjutor, the late George Daniel, gives him credit for
genius, of which however (in the sense in which we use and understand
the word) he did not possess a particle. He tells us that "he was apt to
conceive and prompt to execute; he had a quick eye and a ready hand;
with all his extravagant drollery, his drawing is anatomically correct;
his details are minute, expressive, and of careful finish, and his
colouring is bright and delicate." In the early part of his career, as
we have seen, the two brothers had been so closely associated in life
and in art, that the history of Robert is, to some extent, the history
of George; but when they separated, when each was left to his own
individual resources, George then struck into a path which neither
Robert nor any of his contemporaries might hope to follow. By the time
Robert had realized this fact, HB had appeared, and the art of
caricaturing, as theretofore practised, received a blow from which it
will never rally. Besides being an able water colour artist, he had at
one time achieved some reputation as a portrait painter; but the latter
pursuit he had long practically abandoned, while success in the former
required a closer application and the exercise of a greater amount of
patience than a man of his age and temperament could afford to bestow.
He was, in fact, too old to commence life afresh; and so it came
inevitably to pass that, as his brother did in after life (but from
causes, as we shall see, widely different), Robert gradually dropped
behind and was forgotten. He had not the genius or pride in his art of
his brother, and looked rather to that art as a means of present
livelihood than of acquiring a permanent and enduring reputation. If
George--with all his pride in his art, with all his genius, with all his
rare gifts of imagination and fancy--was destined to be left behind in
the race of life, what could poor Robert hope for? It is sad to think
that in later life, poor easy-going, thriftless, careless, Bohemian
Robert sank into neglect and consequent poverty. He died (of bronchitis)
on the 13th of March, 1856, in his sixty-sixth year.


  [57] In this I cannot agree. George designed about a third of the
    plates, and those who know his workmanship thoroughly will not fail
    to identify it.

  [58] A fact which testifies to the curiosity and _not_ the immorality
    of our people.

  [59] I have known as much as £10 asked for a copy; but _a first
    edition_ (a rarity) may be purchased sometimes of a respectable
    bookseller for £8.

  [60] "Fair Play! Robt. Cruikshank, invt. et fect., original suggestor
    and artist of the 2 vols. Adieu!"

  [61] A list of his works will be found in Dr. Brewer's "Handbook."

  [62] "The Maclise Portrait Gallery," by William Bates (ed. 1883), p.

  [63] The name given to the students of Eton School who board in the

  [64] Diary of Madam d'Arblay.

  [65] W. S. Orr & Co., 1838.




Just sixty years ago, a writer in _Blackwood_ spoke of the subject of
the present chapter (then a young man who had already acquired an
artistic reputation) in the following terms:--

"It is high time that the public should think more than they have
hitherto done of George Cruikshank; and it is also high time that George
Cruikshank should begin to think more than he seems to have done
hitherto of himself. Generally speaking, people consider him as a
clever, sharp _caricaturist_, and nothing more; a free-handed, comical
young fellow, who will do anything he is paid for, and who is quite
contented to dine off the proceeds of a 'George IV.' to-day, and those
of a 'Hone,' or a 'Cobbett' to-morrow. He himself, indeed, appears to be
the most careless creature alive, as touching his reputation. He seems
to have no plan--almost no ambition--and, I apprehend, not much
industry. He does just what is suggested or thrown in his way, pockets
the cash, orders his beef-steak and bowl, and chaunts, like one of his
own heroes,--

  'Life is all a variorium,
  We regard not how it goes.'

Now, for a year or two to begin with, this is just what it should be.
Cruikshank was resolved to see _Life_,[66] and his sketches show that he
has seen it, in some of its walks, to purpose. But life is short, and
art is long; and our gay friend must pull up.

"Perhaps he is not aware of the fact himself--but a fact it undoubtedly
is--that he possesses genius--genius in its truest sense--strong,
original, English genius. Look round the world of art, and ask, How many
are there of whom anything like this can be said? Why, there are not
half a dozen names that could bear being mentioned at all; and certainly
there is not one, the pretensions of which will endure sifting, more
securely and more triumphantly than that of George Cruikshank. In the
first place, he is--what no living _caricaturist_ but himself has the
least pretensions to be, and what, indeed, scarcely one of their
predecessors was--he is a thoroughbred _artist_.[67] He draws with the
ease and freedom and fearlessness of a master; he understands the figure
completely; and appears, so far as one can guess from the trifling sort
of things he has done, to have a capital notion of the principles of
grouping. Now these things are valuable in themselves, but they are
doubly, trebly valuable as possessed by a person of real comic humour;
and a total despiser of that Venerable Humbug which almost all the
artists of our day seem, in one shape or other, to revere as the prime
god of their idolatry. Nobody, that has the least of an eye for art, can
doubt that Cruikshank, if he chose, might design as many annunciations,
beatifications, apotheoses, metamorphoses, and so forth, as would cover
York cathedral from end to end. It is still more impossible to doubt
that he might be a famous portrait painter. Now, these are fine lines
both of them, and yet it is precisely the chief merit of Cruikshank that
he cuts them both; that he will have nothing to do with them; that he
has chosen a walk of his own, and that he has made his own walk popular.
Here lies genius; but let him do himself justice; let him persevere and
_rise_ in his own path, and then, ladies and gentlemen, _then_ the day
will come when his name will be a name indeed, not a name puffed and
paraded in the newspapers, but a living, a substantial, perhaps even an
illustrious, English name. Let him, in one word, proceed, and, as he
proceeds, let him think of Hogarth."[68]

Now, although amused (and surely he cannot fail to be amused) at the
curious incapacity of an art critic so strangely ignorant of his subject
as to conceive _George Cruikshank_ an artist capable of designing
_annunciations_, _beatifications_, _apotheoses_, and subjects so
completely out of the range of his sympathies and abilities, the reader
will, at the same time, be struck with the prescience of the intelligent
writer who discerned in him the possession of true genius, and predicted
for him, even at this early period of his career, the reputation--"living,
substantial," and "illustrious"--which he afterwards so justly achieved
for himself.

In everything save the power to realize an annunciation, a
beatification, or an apotheosis, George Cruikshank was, at the time this
article was penned, exactly what Mr. Lockhart describes him. The most
able and accomplished of the caricaturists of his time, he was
nevertheless willing to etch the works of an amateur or of an artist
inferior to himself, to whose work he has frequently imparted a vitality
of which it would have been destitute but for the interposition of his
hand. He was ready, moreover, to execute woodcuts for a song-book or the
political skits of any scribbler of his time, whether on the ministerial
or the popular side mattered little to him. It was therefore not
unnatural that doing "just what was suggested or thrown in his way,"
Lockhart should come to the erroneous conclusion that the artist had "no
plan," "no ambition," and "not much industry." The assertion that he had
"no ambition" has been amply disproved by his subsequent life, whilst so
far from having "no plan," the sequel shows that all this time,
unsuspected by the critic, he had been gradually developing the style of
illustration by which he made his mark and reputation,--a style first
displayed in the celebrated "Points of Humour," the publication of which
served as the occasion for Lockhart's criticism.

On this account, if for no other reason, the caricatures of George
Cruikshank possess so remarkable an interest, that it is singular that
this field of artistic labour has been left almost unexplored by the
essayists, many of whom, with a somewhat imperfect knowledge of their
subject, have essayed to give us information on the subject of this
artist and his works. It is just this early period of his life, in which
he first followed and then gradually emancipated himself from the
artistic control and influence of Gillray, which seems to us to afford
the most interesting study of the man's career. Nevertheless, nearly all
the articles we have read on George Cruikshank would give us the idea
that, with the exception of certain designs for woodcuts for Hone--such
as the celebrated _Non Mi Ricordo_ and others--certain rough coloured
engravings for "The Meteor," "The Scourge," and other periodicals of a
kindred stamp, the artist executed but few caricatures properly so
called. This at least is the impression which these articles have left
on our own minds; and we can only account for the little notice taken of
him as a caricaturist by the fact that, unlike the etchings which he
produced when in the prime of his career, his caricatures are not only
exceedingly scarce, but being in many cases unsigned, are capable only
of being recognised by those intimately acquainted with his early

The caricatures of George Cruikshank may be divided into three classes:
first, those which are wholly designed and etched by himself; secondly,
those which he designed after the sketches or suggestions of his
friends; and thirdly, those merely etched from the designs of other
artists. We find the first, although frequently unsigned, more usually
signed (on the left hand), "Geo. Cruik^k. fect." or "invt. & fect."; the
second--"invt. G. Cruik^k. fect.;" while the third are indicated as
merely _etched_ by him. Of the second class it may be remarked that with
the exception of the mere sketch or suggestion, the drawing and the
workmanship are oftentimes unmistakably George's own. In the description
of his caricatures which follow, we shall indicate the designs which
belong to _this_ class with an asterisk.

Publications such as "The Scourge," although containing many caricature
designs by George Cruikshank, are scarcely among those to which the
present chapter was intended to be devoted. There are, however, two
satirical compositions of his in this scurrilous publication,[69] which
appear to us so exceptionally good, that we feel justified in drawing
special attention to them. As the publication itself affords little or
no clue to the subject of the illustrations, it seems necessary in order
that the first may be understood, to explain the circumstances which
appear to us to have led up to it.


For several years prior to 1811, the established clergy had manifested
considerable uneasiness on account of the rapid spread of Methodism. The
readiness with which licenses for preaching could be obtained according
to the usual interpretation of the Toleration Act, had tended to the
multiplication of a class of preachers whose manners and language
peculiarly fitted them for acquiring influence over the inferior ranks
of the people; and by this means a great diminution had taken place in
the congregations of parish churches. It is affirmed--with what truth we
know not--that Lord Sidmouth in the measure (presently to be noticed)
was encouraged to proceed in his design by letters from persons of high
position in the Church.


On the 9th of May, 1811, Lord Sidmouth moved in the House of Lords for
leave to bring in a bill for amending and explaining the Acts of William
and Mary and 17th George III., so far as applied to dissenting
ministers. According to the statement of his lordship, at most of the
quarter sessions, when the oaths were taken and the declarations made
requisite for enabling a person to officiate in a chapel or
meeting-house, any person, however ignorant or profligate, was able to
obtain a certificate which authorized him to preach. His lordship
proposed that, in order to entitle any person to a qualification as a
preacher, he should have the recommendation of at least six respectable
householders of the congregation to which he belonged. Lord Holland, in
opposing the bill, observed that he held it to be the inalienable right
of every man who thought himself able to instruct others to do so,
provided his doctrines were not incompatible with the peace of society.

When the nature and provisions of the proposed measure were made known
to the public, an alarm was excited among all those whom it was likely
to affect. The Nonconformists generally regarded it as intended, not so
much to add to the respectability of the dissenting ministers, as to
contract the limits of toleration, and subject the licensing of
preachers to the control of the magistracy. When therefore, on the 21st
of May, the bill was to be read a second time, such a deluge of
petitions was poured in against it, that the mover was left totally
unsupported. The Archbishop of Canterbury said with truth, that the
Dissenters were the best judges of their own concerns; and as it
appeared from the great number of petitions against it, that they were
hostile to the bill, he thought it unwise to press the measure against
their manifest wishes. Under these circumstances the bill was, we need
not say, thrown out.

This would appear to be the subject which produced George Cruikshank's
graphic satire of the _Interior View of the House of God_, in the first
volume of "The Scourge." The pulpit is occupied by two fanatics, one of
whom rants, while the other snuffs the candles; the devil, in the
gallery above, ridicules the proceedings by rasping, _à la_ fiddle, the
bars of a gridiron with a poker; among the numerous congregation present
we notice some attentive and interested listeners, whilst others
evidently attend from mere motives of curiosity. Above the composition
appears the quotation, "Believe not every spirit, but try the spirits
whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into
the world." The satire, _The Examination of a Young Surgeon_, which
appears in the same volume, is aimed at the medical profession. One of
the examiners is deaf, another has the gout, a third is asleep, while
two others (unmistakable Scotchmen) discuss the merits of their
respective snuff-mulls. The deaf man calls upon the frightened candidate
to "describe the organs of hearing." The table is garnished with "The
Cow Pox Chronicle," and a skull and bones, while the walls are decorated
with pictures depicting a fight between death and a pugilist, the
Hottentot Venus, a group of various nations worshipping the golden calf,
and the lady without arms or legs. The hand of the clock points to the
hour of eleven. Judging by the pile of money-bags lying at the foot of
the president's chair, and the two members of the court who are busily
engaged in counting coin, George would seem to insinuate that the
fellows of the college of his time were a decidedly mercenary set.


Of character akin to "The Scourge" (the ten volumes of which were
published between 1811 and 1815 inclusive); is "The Satirist, or Monthly
Meteor," the thirteen volumes of which made their appearance between the
years 1808 and 1813. Both publications, which now command prices very
far beyond what they are intrinsically worth, contain a number of
satires, of more or less merit (generally _less_), by various satirists,
including George Cruikshank; so far as "The Satirist" is concerned, the
designs of the latter are confined to the thirteenth and last volume,
and his caricature contributions are of a vastly superior order of merit
to any of those by which they are preceded. Besides those in "The
Scourge" and "The Satirist," may be mentioned George Cruikshank's comic
designs in "Fashion," printed for J. J. Stockdale, of Pall Mall, in
1818; and his very admirable series of untinted etchings in "The
Loyalist Magazine; or, Anti-Radical," a publication exclusively devoted
to the ministerial side of the Carolinian scandal, and published by
James Wright, of Fleet Street, in 1820.

One of the earliest caricatures I have met with by George is entitled,
_Apollyon_ [_i.e._, Napoleon]_, the Devil's Generalissimo, Addressing
his Legions_; it is signed (contrary to his usual custom), "Cruikshank
del.," and was executed (if I am right in assigning it to him) when he
was sixteen years of age.


The attention of the public in 1813 was, as we have seen, attracted by
the Regent's treatment of his miserable wife; and in April the sympathy
of the Livery and Corporation of London, and other public bodies, found
expression in an address which was presented to Her Royal Highness. On
the 28th of March of that year, the remains of Charles the First had
been discovered in the vault of Henry the Eighth, at Windsor, a
circumstance which suggested to George Cruikshank his admirable satire
entitled, _Meditations amongst the Tombs_. It shows us His Royal
Highness gazing at the recovered bodies, and regretting that while Henry
had managed to dispose of many wives, _he_ found it impossible to get
rid of one. A figure behind him points to the headless corpse, and
significantly remarks, "How rum King Charley looks without his head!"
The Battle of Vitoria (fought this year) forms the subject of a pair of
roughly executed caricatures, entitled respectively, _The Battle of
Vitoria_, and _A Scene after the Battle, or More Trophies for
Whitehall_. Other satires of the year, are _Double Bass_, and _A
Venomous Viper Poisoning the R--l Mind_, the latter as coarsely and
indelicately handled a subject as any caricaturist of the old school
might possibly desire.


_Little Boney gone to Pot_ (Thomas Tegg, May 12th, 1814), is one of the
artist's contributions to the series of caricatures which followed the
fall of Napoleon Bonaparte. Here the satirist has seated the emperor (a
lean, ragged, forlorn, miserable, diseased object) on a huge article of
bedroom furniture, labelled, "Imperial Throne." He is in a forlorn
condition, suffering from itch, with large excrescences growing on his
toes. He is all alone in his island prison (Elba), and tempted by a
fiend, who tenders him a pistol--"If you have one spark of courage
left," it says, "take this." "Perhaps I may," replies Napoleon, "if
you'll take the flint out." By his side we find a pot of brimstone,
numerous medicine bottles, and "a treatise on the itch, by Dr.
Scratch."[70] One of the imperial boots, mounted on a tiny carriage,
forms a dummy cannon. His back leans against a tree, to which is nailed
the "Imperial Crow," while from the branches depends a ragged pair of
breeches and stockings. It was a sorry libel on the unfortunate emperor,
whose courage was undoubted, and who, at this time, instead of being the
scarecrow the artist has represented him, had grown extremely corpulent.
_Snuffing out Boney_ follows up the same subject, and represents a
cossack snuffing out Napoleon, who figures as a candle; another
caricature on the great subject of the year bears the title of _Broken
Gingerbread_ (Napoleon selling images).

  GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. _Published July 11th, 1814, by_ S. W. FORES,


  _Face page 133._]


On the 8th of June, 1814, the Emperor of Russia, with his sister the
Duchess Oldenburg, the King of Prussia, and his two sons, with Prince
Metternich, Marshal Blucher, General Barclay de Tolly, the Hetman
Platoff, and other persons of distinction, arrived in London. The
strangers were splendidly entertained by the merchants and bankers of
London at Merchant Taylors' Hall, and by the Corporation of London at
Guildhall. On the 20th there was a grand review of regulars and
metropolitan volunteers in Hyde Park; the ceremony of announcing to the
inhabitants of the metropolis the conclusion of the definitive treaty of
peace with France took place with all its ancient and accustomed
solemnities. On the 25th of July a grand naval review was held at
Portsmouth, and on the 27th the illustrious visitors embarked at Dover
for the Continent. The handsome Russian emperor and his handsome sister
acquired great popularity by the condescension and affability they
displayed during their short visit. This is commemorated by George
Cruikshank in a satire published by Fores on the 11th of July, entitled,
_Russian Condescension, or the Blessings of Peace_, in which a coarse
woman is represented as kissing the emperor, who is habited in English
military uniform. "There, Sal," says she to her companion, "I can boast
of what none of the ----s at Billingsgate can, having kissed the king's
emperor of all the Russian bears, and he is the sweetest, modestest,
mildest gentleman I ever kissed in all my life." On the other side a
huge country gawky shakes hands with the duchess, whose vast bonnet is a
study. "Dang it," he says, "when I goes back and tells the folks in our
village of this, law! how they will envy I!" In the distance we see
another female in pursuit of the frightened Hetman Platoff.

The reader will remember, that from the state ceremonies and festivities
which took place on this memorable occasion the miserable Caroline had
been excluded, nor did she of course receive recognition or visits from
any of her husband's illustrious visitors. The state of social isolation
to which she was thus consigned is referred to by George Cruikshank in a
very roughly executed caricature entitled, _The British Spread Eagle_,
"Presented to the northern monarchs as a model for their national banner
in consequence of the general peace." The Regent, holding in his hand a
bottle of port wine, turns away from his neglected wife: "I'll go," he
says, "to my bottle, my marchioness [of Conyngham], my countess" [of
Jersey], who may be seen close at hand in an adjoining thicket; "and I,"
answers Caroline, "to my child, my only comfort." The "only comfort" is
seen coming to her mother's assistance in the distance, uttering the
trite quotation, "The child that feels not for a mother's woes, can
ne'er be called a Briton."

_The Impostor, or Obstetric Dispute_, a still more roughly executed
satire (published by Tegg in September, 1814), refers to the wretched
impostor Southcott. Doctors called in to report on her condition
"differed" according to their proverbial custom. Three of these learned
pundits may be seen in consultation in the right-hand corner. A blatant
and irascible cobbler, standing on a stool, loudly proclaims the woman
to be "a cheat!" "a faggot!" "a bag of deceit!" "a blasphemous old hag!"
The indignant Joanna, far advanced in her dropsical condition, rushes at
him, brandishing a broom in one hand and her book of prophecies in the
other, to the delight of certain members of the "great unwashed." The
buildings at the back appropriately include "New Bethlehem," and the
house which the reader may remember was engaged for the purposes of her
miraculous _accouchement_. A rougher and coarser piece of workmanship,
if possible, will be found in _Gambols on the River Thames, February,
1814_ (published also by Tegg), which commemorates the memorable frost
of that year.

  1815. THE CORN LAWS.

On the 17th of February, 1815, Mr. Frederick Robinson, vice-president of
the board of trade, moved for the House of Commons to resolve itself
into a committee of the whole house, for the purpose of considering the
state of the corn laws. This having been done, he proceeded to lay
before the House certain resolutions, three of which related to the free
importation of grain to be warehoused and afterwards exported, or to be
taken for home consumption when importation for that purpose was
allowable. The fourth and most important stated the average price of
British corn at which free importation was to be allowed, and _below
which it was to be prohibited_, and this for wheat was fixed at eighty
shillings per quarter. An exception was made in favour of grain produced
in the British colonies, which might be imported when British grown
wheat was at sixty-seven shillings. All the resolutions were read and
agreed to, with the exception of the fourth, and this in the end also
passed in the face of every amendment.

On the 1st of March, Mr. Robinson brought in his bill "to amend the laws
now in force for regulating the importation of corn." By this time very
numerous petitions against the bill were coming in from the commercial
and manufacturing districts; riotous proceedings also took place on the
6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th of March, in the course of which the mob cut to
pieces many valuable pictures belonging to Mr. Robinson, destroyed and
pitched his furniture into the street, and did a variety of mischief to
the property of other well-known supporters of the measure. The riots
(which were of a most formidable character) were only quelled by the
number and determined attitude of the military and constables. In spite,
however, of the unmistakable unpopularity of the measure, and of the
strenuous opposition to it both in and out of Parliament, the bill
passed the House on the 10th of March, and the Upper House on the 20th.

The consequences of this measure were not such as were expected either
by its promoters or opposers. Former importations, or more probably the
effect of two abundant harvests, combined with the greatly extended
cultivation of grain, produced a gradual and steady reduction in prices;
so that instead of approaching the limits at which alone importation was
allowable by the Act, it sunk to a level below that of several years
past. The farmers, who were labouring under exorbitant rents in addition
to other increased expenses, were general sufferers, and the landlords
found it necessary in many instances to make great abatements in their
dues. In the result many leases were voided and farms left without

To this most unpopular measure a satire, published by Fores on the 3rd
of March, 1815, has reference. It is entitled, _The Blessings of Peace,
or the Curse of the Corn Bill_, a very rough affair, etched by George
(as it appears to me) from the design of an amateur whose hand may be
recognised in more than one of his caricatures. A foreign vessel is
approaching our shores laden with best wheat at 50_s._ a quarter. A
figure with a star on his breast, emblematical of course of the
aristocratic influence which was supposed to have dictated the unpopular
corn law, forbids the sailors to land it: "We won't have it," he says,
"_at any price_. We are determined to keep up our own to 80_s._, and if
the poor can't buy at that price, why, they must starve. We love money
too well to lower our rents again, tho' the income tax _is_ taken off."
His sentiments are re-echoed by companions belonging to the same class
as himself. A farmer and his starving family, however, come forward.
"No, no, masters," he remonstrates; "I'll not starve, but quit my native
country, where the poor are crushed by those they labour to support, and
retire to one more hospitable, and where threats of the rich do not
interpose to defeat the providence of God!" Behind the starving family
is a warehouse absolutely bursting with sacks of grain at 80_s._ "By
gar!" says the foreign captain, "if they won't have [the wheat] at all,
we must throw it overboard," which they accordingly are depicted as
doing. The subject is followed up by a still more slovenly affair by the
artist himself, bearing the title of _The Scale of Justice Reversed_,
published by Fores on the 29th of March. An eighteenpenny loaf in one
scale is overmatched by the accumulated weight of taxes in the other.
The overbalanced scale in its descent knocks down and crushes John Bull
under its weight. "The bread," he cries, "is out of my reach, and those
cursed taxes will break my back. That large one ['duty on
manufactories,' which the chancellor is just putting into the scale]
will do for me." Beyond, a usurer and four large landowners are seen
rejoicing at the flight of the "Property Tax," an alleviation which is
calculated to do no good to any one but themselves.


John Bull's trials, however, were in reality just commencing. Only seven
months before he had held a grand "jubilee" in the parks, to celebrate the
return of peace, treating his little difficulty with the Americans as a
_bagatelle_ not worth serious consideration. Four months before that
celebration, "his majesty the Emperor Napoleon" had formally "renounced
for himself, his successors, etc., all right of sovereignty and dominion,
as well to the French empire and the kingdom of Italy, as over every other
country." In return for this concession, as if in absolute mockery, "the
isle of Elba, adopted by his majesty the Emperor ... as the place of his
residence," was formed during his life into a separate principality, to
"be possessed by him in full _sovereignty and property_," besides a
certain annual revenue mentioned in the articles of treaty of the 18th of
April, 1814. Here the Regent and his very good friends the allied
sovereigns had been content to leave him, dreaming apparently, that the
man whose military genius had held Europe at defiance, was disposed of
"for ever and a day;" disregarding the feeble capacity of the Bourbon who
succeeded him; the magic influence wielded by the man who thought the
world too small for his ambition over a soldiery he had created and
trained into perfection, and who regarded him in the light of a demi-god.

On the 26th of February, 1815, Bonaparte embarked at Porto Ferrago on
board a brig, followed by four small vessels conveying about 1,000
men--French, Poles, Corsicans, Neapolitans, and natives of Elba. On the
1st of March the expedition anchored off the town of Cannes, in
Provence, where these heterogeneous forces were landed. The small and
motley force of filibusters was forthwith marched on Grenoble, which was
reached on the 8th. The seventh regiment of the line, under Colonel
Labedoyère, had meanwhile joined the adventurer; the rest of the
garrison opened their gates, delivered their arsenal and magazine, and
thus placed him at the head of a body of regular troops with a train of
artillery. Only five short months afterwards, while the unfortunate
emperor was on his way to St. Helena, poor Labedoyère was shot on the
plain of Grenelle, for the "treason" of re-swearing fealty to the
original master he had loved so well.

On the 9th of March, Bonaparte appeared before Lyons, which he entered
without resistance. Once in possession of this important city, and
hailed Emperor by his beloved soldiery, Bonaparte assumed the
"sovereignty and dominion" which he had "renounced" for ever.
"Frenchmen!" he said, after his sententious but stirring manner, "there
is no nation, however small it may be, which has not had the right, and
which may not withdraw itself from the disgrace of obeying a prince
imposed on it by an enemy momentarily victorious. When Charles VII.
re-entered Paris, and overthrew the ephemeral throne of Henry V., he
acknowledged that he held his throne from the valour of his heroes, and
_not from a Prince Regent of England_."

Although the troops assembled around him were comparatively a handful,
Bonaparte had unquestionably obtained sufficient assurance of the
general disposition of the army in his favour. Preparations indeed had
been made for collecting a large body of troops at Melun for the
immediate protection of Paris, while another was posted at
Fontainebleau, so as to place the adventurer as it were between two
fires. The greatest hopes were derived from the professed loyalty to the
Bourbon cause of Marshal Ney, who had spontaneously presented himself at
the Tuileries and proffered his services to the king. With the marshal,
12,000 or 15,000 men were posted at Lons-le-Saulnier, whence it was
understood that he would fall on the rear of Bonaparte. Instead of doing
so, he joined him at Auxerre with his whole division, which had already
hoisted (under his orders) the tri-coloured flag. This defection
practically decided the contest; and Bonaparte entered Paris on the
evening of the 20th as a conqueror, received everywhere by the military
in triumph.

Meanwhile, on the 13th of March, the powers who had signed the Treaty of
Paris assembled in congress at Vienna, "being informed of the escape of
Napoleon Bonaparte, and of his entrance into France with an armed
force," issued a formal declaration, in which they stated that, "by thus
breaking the convention which established him on the island of Elba,
Bonaparte had destroyed the only legal title on which his existence
depended; ... deprived himself of the protection of the law; and
manifested to the universe that there could be neither peace nor truce
with him. The powers consequently declared that he had placed himself
without the pale of civil and social relations, and as an enemy and
disturber of the tranquility of the world, rendered himself liable to
public vengeance;" and, by a treaty concluded at Vienna on the 25th of
March, Great Britain, Austria, Russia, and Prussia bound themselves to
maintain the Treaty of Paris of 30th May, 1814, and for that purpose
each was to keep constantly in the field a force of 150,000 men, and not
lay down their arms until Bonaparte should have been rendered absolutely
unable to create disturbance, and "renew his attempts for possessing
himself of the supreme power in France."


The excitement which this portentous event occasioned amongst the
nations of Europe is admirably realized by a caricature of George
Cruikshank's, published by Fores on the 6th of April, and entitled, _The
Congress Dissolved before the Cake was Cut up_. Alexander, engaged in
cutting up the cake (_i.e._ Europe), and apportioning to each
nationality a share of the whole, drops the knife as Napoleon rushes in
among them, with the tremendous cocked hat, huge sword, and boots
assigned to him on the authority of James Gillray. Crushing under his
feet the "Decrees of the Congress," "An Account of the Deliverance of
Europe," "A Plan for the Security of Europe," and other documents of a
similar character, he shouts to the affrighted company, "Avast! ye
bunglers; the cake you have been these six months disputing about the
cutting up, I will do in as many hours." Holland in his fright has
dropped off his stool to the ground. "O Donner and Blixen!" he exclaims,
"_my_ Hollands is all gone!" "I thought England had promised to guard
him," says Saxony, alluding to the kind of naval supervision of Elba by
English armed cruisers, which appears to have been exercised, so far as
we can see, without any _direct_ claim on our part to control the
movements of Bonaparte. "Hold him! seize him!" cries Austria. "Seize
him! kill him!" re-echoes Prussia.[71] "Who'll begin?--There's the rub!"
is the sensible observation of Sweden. "Oh dear! oh dear!" groans his
holiness the Pope, crowned with a composite hat, the crown of which is
composed of his mitre; "what will become of me?" The only one who says
nothing, but seems prepared to act with determination and promptitude,
is the representative of England, who is shown in the act of drawing his

Napoleon (we need not say) did not exactly act as the caricaturist
describes: he endeavoured to re-establish relations with the foreign
powers. On the 14th of April, however, Coulaincourt, the minister of
foreign affairs, published his report to the emperor, giving an account
of the result of the applications which had been made to foreign courts.
From this it appeared that while no communication was permitted with the
actual government of France, all the allied powers were diligently
making preparation for war. "In all parts of Europe at once," said the
minister, "they are arming, or marching, or ready to march." The powers,
of course, were acting strictly within the terms of their expressed
declaration to make "neither peace nor truce with Bonaparte." The
emperor's practical reply to this declaration was made in the Champ de
Mars on the 1st of June. Descending from his throne, he distributed the
imperial eagles to the troops of the line and the national guards as
they marched past, and swore to defend them at the hazard of their
lives, and to suffer no foreigners to dictate laws to their country. All
this time reinforcements were being despatched from England without
intermission, and the Duke of Wellington had arrived to take command of
the troops, native and foreign, in Belgium. There was nothing left for
Napoleon except to fight. In the latter end of May, the headquarters of
the French army of the north was established at Avesnes, in French
Flanders; while, in the apprehension of an invasion by the allied armies
on that part, Laon and the Castle of Guise were put in a defensive
condition. On the 12th of June Bonaparte left Paris, accompanied by
Marshal Bertrand and General Drouet, and proceeded to Laon.


At this point we meet with a piece of George Cruikshank's handiwork
which is curious as indicative of the spirit which pervaded England at
this momentous period. I am not at present in a position to refer to a
newspaper of the period; but it would appear from the sketch referred to
that, on or about the very day that Napoleon left Paris to join the
splendid army which six days afterwards was so disastrously routed at
Waterloo, a city fête was held at the Mansion House, at which that
eccentric and sturdy nationalist, Sir William Curtis, whose face and
figure were a fortune to the caricaturists of the period, covered the
floor of the Mansion House with the tri-coloured eagles captured from
the French in Peninsular battle-fields, while the banners of England
domineered from the walls above. The exceedingly rare sketch which
illustrates this incident is labelled appropriately by the artist,
_Opening of Sir William Curtis's Campaign against the French Colours_.

Six days afterwards, the star of Napoleon Bonaparte had set for ever in
the lurid and ensanguined battle clouds of Waterloo. Scarcely one month
later on--that is to say, on the 15th of July, 1815--he had surrendered
to Captain Maitland, of his majesty's ship _Bellerophon_, under
circumstances which, while they reflect no discredit on the honour of
that gallant officer, seem to us, so far as England was herself
concerned, scarcely to have justified her subsequent treatment of the
great but unfortunate emperor. With this, however, we have nothing to
do. The _Bellerophon_ on the evening of the 23rd, brought the
distinguished exile within sight of the coast of England, a
circumstance to which a subsequent caricature (_etched_ by the artist)
has reference. On the 6th of September was published by Fores, _Boney's
Threatened Invasion brought to bear, or Taking a View of the English
Coast from ye Poop of the Bellerophon_. The little emperor, confined to
the mast by a chain fastened to his leg, leaps on the breech of one of
the _Bellerophon's_ guns, spy-glass in hand. "By gar, mon Empereur,"
says Count Bertrand, "dey have erect von prospect for you." The
"prospect" is far from encouraging--a fort with the English flag flying
from the central tower, and a gibbet erected in front of it. No wonder
that the emperor expresses himself dissatisfied with a "prospect" of so
lugubrious a character. An English sailor seated on a neighbouring gun,
delivers the sentiments of the day after the plain-spoken fashion of his
countrymen. This design, which is by no means in the artist's usual
style, was etched by him from the design of some one whose name or
initials are not recorded.

The actual circumstance to which the foregoing sketch refers is related
to us by the commander of the _Bellerophon_:--

"At daybreak on the 24th of July, we were close off Dartmouth. Count
Bertrand went into the cabin and informed Bonaparte of it, who came upon
deck about half-past four, and remained on the poop until the ship
anchored in Torbay. He talked with admiration of the coast, saying, 'You
have in that respect a great advantage over France, which is surrounded
by rocks and dangers.' On opening Torbay, he was much struck with the
beauty of the scenery, and exclaimed, 'What a beautiful country! It
very, very much resembles the bay of Porto Ferrago, in Elba.'"[72]

The same year, and on the same subject, the artist gives us _Boney's
Meditations on the Island of St. Helena, or the Devil addressing the
Sun_, in which the idea is manifestly borrowed from a design by James
Gillray; _The Corsican's Last Trip under the Guidance of his Good Angel_
[the devil]; _The Genius of France Expounding her Laws to the Sublime
People_; and a very admirable and original design, _The Pedigree of
Corporal Violet_; all of which are etched from the designs of other

Hardly was Napoleon despatched to the island prison which was so shortly
to prove his grave, and replaced by the unwieldly Louis, than the latter
came in for his full share of satire. In another of George Cruikshank's
caricatures of the same year, he shows us _The Royal Laundress_ [Louis
the Eighteenth] _Washing Boney's Court Dresses_, Napoleon watching the
process the while from St. Helena. "Ha, ha!" he laughs, "such an old
woman as _you_ might rub a long while before they'll be all white, for
they are tri-coloured in _grain_." Another shows us fat Louis climbing
the _mât de cocagne_ (soaped pole) and clutching the crown of France; he
clambers up on the shoulders of Austria, Russia, and Prussia, his
immediate supporter being England. Napoleon watches his progress from
across the sea; "_I_ climbed up," he says, "twice, without _any_ help."
Other subjects of the year are: _Friends in Need_, and _John's Dream, or
the Prince and Old England for Ever!_


The repugnance of the Regent to the economical measures which were
forced upon the ministry in 1816 is well-known. The people complained
with every just reason of the pressure of taxes, which were levied, as
they said, upon the industrious, to be squandered in extravagant
salaries, sinecures, and unmerited pensions. They complained of the
large standing army, which the Regent insisted to be necessary for the
maintenance of "our position and high character among the European
powers." The prince's aversion to the popular cry for retrenchment and
reform is shown by one of George's caricatures entitled, _Sick of the
Property Tax, or Ministerial Influenza_, published by Fores on the 8th
of March, 1816, where we see the ministers vomiting into a huge
receptacle labelled "Budget," the matter voided consisting of "Standing
armies," "Property tax," "Increase of salaries," and so on. The gouty,
self-indulgent prince hobbles up to his ministers on a pair of crutches
marked respectively, "More economy" and "Increase of income." Under his
arms he carries bundles of accounts, most of which relate to his own
private expenditure, and are labelled, "Expenses of [Brighton]
Pavilion," of "Furniture," "Drinking expenses." "Aye, this comes," he
exclaims, "of your cursed pill economy, which you forced me to take a
month back; no one knows what I have suffered from this economical
spasm. I am afraid we shall all be laid up together." On the table
behind him lie the medicines which have been prescribed for him, certain
pills labelled "Petitions against the property tax," and a huge bolus
ticketed "economy," "to be taken immediately." On the same subject a
month later on is a sketch by an amateur, etched by the artist, bearing
the title of _Economical Humbug of 1816, or Saving at the Spiggot and
Letting Out at the Bunghole_. From a series of small vats, "Assessed
taxes," "Property tax," "Customs," "Excise," and other streams of
"supply," are pouring into a huge vat labelled "The Treasury of J.
Bull's Vital Spirits." Vansittart, Chancellor of the Exchequer, is
carefully drawing off what he requires into a small bucket for the
"Public Service." "You see," he says to Mr. Bull, who looks admiringly
on, "I am not a quibbling pettifogger, I am a man of my word; for you
see I have thrown away the great _war_ spiggot, and have substituted a
small _peace_ one in its stead, which will cause an unknown saving to
you." This is all very well; but the gouty Regent has also tapped the
vat on the other side, and draws off the supplies in a copious stream
into a receptacle labelled, "Deficiencies of the Civil List." His
friends and boon companions are bringing up a fresh supply of empty
vessels to be filled in their turn; one carries a barrel marked, "For
household troops and standing army"; another is labelled, "Sinecures,
places, and pensions"; a third, "For cottages and pavilions"; and a
fourth, "£60,000 for fun." "Come, my friends," says the prince, "make
haste and fill your buckets, whilst Van is keeping noisy Johnny quiet
with fine speeches and promises of economy, which I am determined not to
practise as long as I can get anything to expend; and while he is saving
at the spiggot, we will have it out of the bunghole."[73]

_Preparing for the Match, or the 2nd of May, 1816_, has reference to the
marriage of the Princess Charlotte of Wales, who, as we have already
seen, was on that day united to Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg. It had
been preceded by a well-designed but most indelicate satire, labelled
_Royal Nuptials_, published by J. Johnstone on the 1st of April, in
which the prince is seen landing on our shores in a state of
destitution, with a pitiable lack of certain necessary articles of
clothing, which are being handed to him by John Bull in the guise of a
countryman. The _dramatis personæ_ are seven in number: Prince Leopold,
John Bull, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the gouty Regent, the
Princess Charlotte, old Queen Charlotte, with her snuff-box, and, behind
her, an old woman intended, I believe, for the poor old king himself.
The same year we find two other indelicate subjects: _A Bazaar_, a skit
upon the immorality and costume of the period, comprising thirty
figures; and another, in allusion to the marriage of the Princess Mary
with her cousin, the Duke of Gloucester, on the 22nd of July, 1816. To
those who have asserted that George Cruikshank "never pandered to
sensuality ... or raised a laugh at the expense of decency," that
"satire in his hands never degenerated into savagery or scurrility," I
would commend the serious consideration of the three satires I have last


At the time Egypt was in the power of the French, during the early part
of the century, Lord Elgin had quitted England upon a mission to the
Ottoman Porte. A great change has taken place in the attitude and
bearing of the Turks towards other European nations during the last half
century; but even at this time the contempt and dislike which had
characterized them in their behaviour towards every denomination of
Christians still prevailed in full force. The success, however, of the
British arms in Egypt, and the expected restitution of that province to
the Porte, seem to have wrought a wonderful and instantaneous change in
the disposition of that power and its people towards ourselves;[74] and
Lord Elgin, availing himself of these favourable circumstances, obtained
in the summer of 1801, access to the Acropolis of Athens for general
purposes, with a concession to "make excavations and to take away any
stones that might appear interesting to himself." The result (shortly
stated) was the excavation of the once celebrated "Elgin marbles," about
which, if we are to credit the report from which we glean this
information, his lordship would seem to have expended (including the
interest of capital) some £74,000. The committee recommend the House,
under these circumstances, coupled with the valuations which they had
obtained from competent authorities, that £35,000 was "a reasonable and
sufficient price to be paid for the collection," and their purchase
appears to have been completed on the basis of these figures, a fact
which forms the subject of the artist's undated and admirable satire of
_John Bull Buying Stones at the Time his Numerous Family Want Bread_.

Unsigned, and under date of 25th of November, 1816, I find a caricature
published by Fores, which seems to me due to the hand of George
Cruikshank. It is entitled, _The Nightmayor_, "painted by Fuzeley," and
represents a debased woman in the stertorous sleep of drunkenness, whose
muddled dream-thoughts revert to the experiences with which her evil
habits have made her so frequently familiar. The gin drinker has been
brought before the Lord Mayor any number of times for being "drunk and
disorderly," and accordingly her _nightmare_ assumes the form of the
city official, who sits upon the body clothed in his robes and invested
with the insignia of his office. Appended to the satire are the
following lines:--

  "The night mayor flitting through the evening fogs,
   Traverses alleys, streets, courts, lanes, and bogs,
   Seeking some love-bewilder'd maid by gin oppress'd,
   Alights--and sits upon her downy breast."

The only other caricature of George I have to notice under date of 1816
is entitled, _State Physicians Bleeding John Bull to Death_. (*)


In our third chapter we referred to the distress which prevailed amongst
the industrial classes during the two years which followed the fall of
Bonaparte.[75] We meet with an exceedingly rare pictorial satire by
George Cruikshank, which relates to this state of things; it bears the
title of, _John Bull Brought up for a Discharge, but Remanded on Account
of Extravagance and False Schedule_, and was published by Fores on the
29th of March, 1817. John Bull, a bankrupt, is being publicly examined
as to the causes of his failure: "Being desired by the court to give
some explanation [on the subject of the prodigious difference between
his debts and his assets], he said that he had been persuaded originally
to join with some of the parishioners in indicting his neighbour, Mr.
Frog, for keeping a disorderly house; that they had engaged to bear
their part of the expenses, but had all sneaked off one by one, and left
him to pay the whole, and carry on the proceedings. It had at last,
after being moved from one court to another, become a suit in Chancery;
and he had been advised by the gentleman whom he had always consulted on
these matters, and who was now dead, to go on and persevere, for that he
would be sure to get a final decree in his favour, and all the costs. He
had at last, in fact, got a decree in his favour, about two years since,
before Lord Chancellor Wellington, and for the costs; but not a farthing
had ever been paid, nor was it likely to be; on the contrary, Mr. Frog
had surrendered himself, and gone to prison, where he was now living at
this moment, at his [Mr. Bull's] expense. Besides, the house in question
was now opened again under a new license, granted by the magistrates of
the district ... or rather, a renewal of the old one, in favour of the
brother of the person who had kept it formerly, ... and the new
landlord had taken down the late sign of the Bee Hive, and put up the
old one of the _Fleur-de-lis_; but it was nearly as disorderly as ever,
and the magistrates were obliged to keep up a great number of special
constables to preserve the peace of the neighbourhood."[76]

John Bull, in his best blue coat and white waistcoat, and suffering
under an attack of gout is going through the ordeal of his public
examination before the judge. In front of this functionary is the
bankrupt's schedule, on which we read the following items:--

  "Amount of Income        £24,000,000
   Expenditure              80,000,000
   Dr. Nick Frog            10,000,000
   Paul Bruin                1,000,000
   Frank Force-child         8,000,000
   Will Eagle Eye            6,000,000
   Ferd. Faithless          30,000,000."

In the body of the court, and separated from the commissioner by a
wooden enclosure, the upper edge of which is lined with bayonets
pointing inwards, are a number of the bankrupt's wretched creditors,
whom Death, clothed in a red coat and armed with a mace, vainly strives
to keep quiet. "Ck. fect." in such faint letters that they might easily
escape detection, is appended to this remarkable composition.

In our third chapter we also referred to the serious disturbances which
followed and were the consequences of the public discontents of 1817,
and the fact that the names of four informers, Castle, Oliver, Edwards,
and Franklin were identified with those of the chief fomenters of
sedition in the metropolis and the northern counties.[77] In further
illustration of the satires in which these fellows put in an appearance,
we have one by George Cruikshank (published by Fores on the 1st of
July), and labelled, _Conspirators, or Delegates in Council_. We may
here mention that on the 9th of June, one Watson, a surgeon, was tried
for high treason at Westminster Hall, and acquitted on the 16th,
whereupon the Attorney General abandoned the prosecution against
Thistlewood, Preston, and Hooper, who were also indicted under a like
charge. All the accused were in indigent or humble circumstances, and
the chief witness against them appears to have been Castle. Among the
five persons sitting round the table, we recognise Castle (whose
villainous face is turned towards us) and Oliver. The others we cannot
identify. The aristocratic looking gentleman receiving them so blandly
is my Lord Castlereagh. "Don't you think, my lord," says the person next
him, "Don't you think that our friends Castle and Oliver should be sent
to Lisbon or somewhere, as consul-generals or envoys?" "Can't you," says
his lordship to the beetle-browed ruffians by way of rejoinder, "Can't
you _negotiate_ for some boroughs?" John Bull, looking through the
window at these negotiations, with much indignation, and recognising in
these fellows the rascals by whom he has been "ensnared into
[committing] criminal acts," hints in very plain terms that the conduct
pursued by such men was the high road to political favour in 1817. Among
the papers on the table we notice a "Plan for the attack on the Regent's
carriage;"[78] a bundle of "treasonable papers to be slipped into the
pockets of some duped artisans;" another, indicating the "means to be
taken to implicate Sir Francis Burdett, Lord Cochrane," and other
popular agitators of that day; "A list of victims in Ireland," and so
on. On the floor at his lordship's feet lie some of the tri-coloured
flags unfurled at the Spafields meeting; the obvious inference intended
to be conveyed being of course that the Government were really at the
bottom of the popular disturbances.

_R-y-l Condescension, or a Foreign Minister Astonished_, published by
Fores on the 15th of September, 1817, is one of George Cruikshank's most
finished but at the same time indelicate compositions. It refers to the
rumours affecting the Princess Caroline's reputation which preceded the
"bill of pains and penalties," to which we have already alluded. It
appears to us to have originated out of the following circumstance. It
was asserted that at a masked ball which the princess had given shortly
after she left England to the then King of Naples, Joachim Murat, she
appeared in three different disguises; that in one of these, "The Genius
of History," she had appeared in so unclothed a state as to call for
particular observation; her third disguise was a Turkish costume. It was
further asserted that in her changes of dress she had been assisted, not
by her female attendants, but by the person with whom her name was so
familiarly associated. In the sketch before us, Her Royal Highness's
corpulent and redundant figure is clothed in a tight-fitting Turkish
dress and trousers, her head being covered by a ponderous turban. The
five figures composing her "suite" are the Courier Bartolomeo Bergami,
his brothers Louis and Vollotti Bergami, his sister, and William Austin,
the youth she had adopted,[79] and who, it was proved, slept in her
bed-chamber. The whole are decorated with the crosses and ribbons of the
absurd order which she was said to have instituted. The courtly, well
dressed foreign gentleman to whom she is introducing these vulgar
persons appears to be intended for Metternich, who, while thanking Her
Royal Highness for her "condescension," looks the very picture of
unfeigned but well-bred astonishment.


In the evening of the 18th of November, 1817, a mournful procession, at
which all the great officers of state attended, quitted Claremont House
_en route_ for Windsor. At the impressive ceremony which followed,
Garter King at Arms proclaimed its melancholy purport in the following
words: "Thus it has pleased Almighty God to take out of this transitory
life, unto His Divine mercy, the late most illustrious Princess
Charlotte Augusta, daughter of His Royal Highness, George, Prince of
Wales, Regent of the United Kingdom." It was even so. The pride and hope
of the nation, the heiress of the crown, was on the 6th of November
delivered of a still-born child, and within a very few hours afterwards
had succumbed to the unlooked-for and fatal exhaustion which followed.
The grief which this occasioned was so universal that every one seemed
to realize the fact that he or she had sustained an individual loss;
scarcely perhaps in English history had the death of a member of a royal
family been more sincerely and truly regretted. The mournful event is
referred to by the artist in a more than usually touching sketch,
entitled, _England's Hope Departing_. Among the medical attendants of
Her Royal Highness who followed her to the grave, was the accoucheur,
Sir Richard Croft, Bart. This distinguished gentleman was so deeply
affected with the unlooked-for result, that his mind refused to recover
its tone, and within a month afterwards he committed self-destruction.

Other pictorial satires of George Cruikshank, bearing the date of 1817,
are: _Fashionables of 1817_, two figures--a male and female--outrageously
caricatured, a rough affair, altogether differing from his usual style;
the well-known _double entendre_, _A View of the Regent's Bomb_, which,
with our knowledge of his sensitiveness on the subject of his personal
appearance, must have given the exalted personage thus outrageously
satirized the greatest possible mortification; _The Spa Fields Orator
Hunting for Popularity to do Good_, (*) a punning satire on "Orator" Hunt;
_A Patriot Luminary Extinguishing Noxious Gas_ (etched from the design of
another artist); and two admirable designs bearing the titles of
_Vis-à-Vis_ and _Les Graces_. The same year we meet with one of the
earliest of his alliterative satires, afterwards so frequently to be seen
among the famous illustrations to the "Comic Almanack": _La Belle
Assemblée, or Sketches of Characteristic Dancing_, miscellaneous groups,
comprising in all thirty figures (exclusive of the orchestra), engaged in
a country dance, a Scotch reel, an Irish jig, a minuet, the German waltz,
a French quadrille, the Spanish bolero, and a ballet "Italienne." The
walls are hung with pictures of dancing dogs, a dancing bear, a dancing
horse, rope dancing, the dance of St. Vitus, and "Dancing Mad." Besides
this, we find the same year two large sheets showing the _Striking Effects
produced by Lines and Dots, for the Assistance of every Draughtsman_,
suggested by, but a very vast improvement on, G. M. Woodward's _Multum in
Parvo, or Liliputian Sketches, showing what may be done by Lines and


A report of the House of Commons, showing how four million pounds weight
of sloe, liquorice, and ash-tree leaves were annually mixed with Chinese
teas in England, was supplemented by a trial in the Court of Exchequer,
in which a grocer named Palmer was fined in £840 penalties, for the
fabrication of spurious tea. It appeared that there was a regular
manufactory of imitation tea in Goldstone Street, which was composed of
thorn leaves, which, after passing through a peculiar process, were
coloured with logwood; the same leaves, after being pressed and dried,
were laid upon sheets of copper, coloured with verdigris and Dutch pink,
and sold as _green_ tea. These revelations led, in 1818, to the artist's
admirable caricature of _The T Trade in Hot-water, or a Pretty Kettle of
Fish: dedicated to J. Canister and T. Spoon, Esquires_. Besides these,
we have the same year: _An Interesting Scene on Board an East Indian_, a
very coarse but admirable performance; _Introduction to the Gout_ (a
fiend dropping a hot coal on the toe of a _bon vivant_); _A Fine Lady,
or the Incomparable_, in which it appears to us that Robert had a hand;
_Les Savoyards_ and _Le Palais Royal de Paris_; _Comparative Anatomy, or
the Dandy Trio_; and _The Art of Walking the Streets of London_, eight
subjects, etched by the artist after the design of George Moutard

  _Designed, Etched and Published by_ GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. _November 1st,


  _Face p. 152._]

On the 4th of December, 1818, the number of convicts lying under
sentence of death in his Majesty's gaol of Newgate, amounted to no less
than sixty, of whom ten were females; probably not three of these
unfortunate beings would have been hung now-a-days. Under the Draconian
laws, however, then in force, people were hung in scores for passing
forged one-pound Bank of England notes; and this barbarous state of
things, disgraceful to a Christian country, led to the famous and
telling satire of the _Bank Restriction Note_, one of the very few which
seem to have escaped oblivion, and which, having been repeated and
reproduced in all the latest essays which have been written on him,
calls for no extra description from ourselves. It is said to have had
the effect desired, and that "no man or woman was ever hanged after this
for passing forged one-pound Bank of England notes."


In 1819 we have one of George Cruikshank's severe and telling attacks
upon the Prince Regent, in _Sales by Auction, or Provident Children
disposing of their Deceased Mother's Effects for the Benefit of the
Creditors_ (*), in which he shows us the prince knocking down (in his
character of auctioneer) his dead mother's old hats, gowns, and
clothing, and begging the bystanders to bid liberally. At the foot of
the rostrum lie sundry snuff-boxes and pots, labelled "Queen's Mixture"
and "Prince's Mixture" (in allusion to the old queen's habits),
"Strasburg" (in reference to her German tastes and nationality),
together with her old china tea-set.

This year is remarkable for producing perhaps the most ambitious and
admirable allegory which the artist ever designed; it bears the title of
_Old Thirty-nine Shaking Hands with his Good Brother the Pope of Italy,
or Covering Up_ versus _Sealing the Bible_. Old Thirty-nine (an English
bishop) stands on a pile of volumes labelled, "Never-out-ism,"
"Ante-biblism," "Never-the-same-ism," etc., whilst the pope, standing on
the opposite side on a mass of books bearing similar suggestive titles,
shakes hands with his "good brother." By the pope's side we find the
devil busily engaged in sealing up the Bible. Behind him stands the
Temple of Mammon, surrounded by a crowd of reverend worshippers. Two
fiends standing by the side of "Old Thirty-nine" make preparations for a
bonfire, to which sundry bundles labelled, "Articles of Faith,"
"Athanasian Creed," "Catechism," "Liturgies," "Nicene Creed," and so on,
will contribute materials. Out of a building in the rear, inscribed,
"National School for Thirty-niners only," issues a procession of
ecclesiastics and beadles carrying banners. In the foreground stands the
figure of "Divine Truth," surrounded by little children, and perusing
the pages of the "Holy Bible," held for that purpose by an angel. A
roughly executed affair in two compartments, _Preachee and Floggee Too_,
satirizes certain clerical magistrates who, while preaching mercy and
forgiveness in the pulpit, distinguish themselves by the severity of
their sentences for minor offences on the magisterial bench. The titles
of other subjects of the year are: _The Hobby Horse Dealer_; _Johnny
Bull and his Forged Notes, or Rags and Ruin in the Paper Currency_;
_Smoke Jack, the Alarmist, Extinguishing the Second Great Fire of
London_; _Love, Law, and Physic_ (*); _The Sailor's Progress_ (six
subjects); _Dandies in France, or Le Restorateur_ (*); _A Match for the
King's Plate_; _The Belle Alliance, or the Female Reformers of
Blackburn_ (*); _Voila t'on mort_; and _Royal Red Bengal Tiger_ (etched
from the designs of other artists); _Irish Decency_ (two caricatures);
_Giant Grumbo and the Black Dwarf, or Lord G---- and the Printers
Devil_; and _Our Tough old Ship Steered Safely into Harbour maugre
Sharks of the Day_ (*).

An unsigned caricature, published by Fores on the 15th of May, 1819,
appears to me to be due to the hand of George Cruikshank. It bears the
title of _The Dandy Tailor Planning a New Hungry Dress_, and would
appear to have reference to some contemplated introduction of foreign
mercenaries into the English service. The tailor, while stitching a
military jacket, sings a song of which the following is a verse,--

  "A tailor there was, and he lived in a stall,
   Which served him for palace, for kitchen, and hall.
   No coin in his pocket, no nous in his pate,
   No ambition has he, nor no wish to be great.
       Derry down, down, down, derry down!"

A foreigner enters in military costume, introducing two foreign
mercenaries. "Dese men," he says, "will teach you de proper vay to make
de Hungarian soldats. I did bring dem expres'. Observe des grands
mustaches. No more English soldats." A military figure in jack boots,
standing by the side of the tailor, holds the "goose" in readiness for
his master's use. The Prince Regent, especially as George the Fourth,
was fond of inventing new military costumes, and Mr. Greville describes
him in 1829 (the year before his death) as "employed in devising a new
dress for the guards;" but by the mitre at his back, and the reference
to his impecunious position, I should take this "tailor" to be intended
for the Duke of York.


_Ah! sure such a pair was never seen, so justly formed to meet by
nature!_ (*) represents a couple of pears, in which we recognise
likenesses of George the Fourth and Queen Caroline, the features of the
king being expressive of strong disgust. After Lord Liverpool had
decided not to send the "Bill of Pains and Penalties" to the Commons,
for the reason stated in a previous chapter, the Lord Mayor, Aldermen,
and Common Council of the City of London distinguished themselves by
presenting, on the 10th of December, an address to their "most gracious
sovereign," complaining of things in general, and of public expenditure
in particular, the real cause of complaint, however, being "the alleged
criminality" which, as the petitioners stated, had been "falsely
ascribed" to the queen. This address, which was conceived in the worst
possible taste, concluded with the following outrageous prayer: "We
therefore humbly pray your Majesty to dismiss from your presence and
councils for ever those ministers whose pernicious measures have so long
endangered the throne, undermined the constitution, and blighted the
prosperity of the nation." Now, only fancy any Corporation of London in
our time signalizing itself by presenting a petition to "Her Most
Gracious Majesty," complaining of the measures of Lord Beaconsfield or
Mr. Gladstone, and praying her to dismiss them from her councils! The
king returned the following answer: "It has been with the most painful
feelings that I have heard the sentiments contained in the address and
petition now presented to me by the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Common
Council of the City of London. Whatever may be the motives of those by
whom it is brought forward, its evident tendency is to inflame the
passions and mislead the judgment of the unwary and less enlightened
part of my subjects, and thus to aggravate all the difficulties with
which we have to contend." This episode suggested to George one of the
most admirable of his caricatures: _A Scene in the New Farce as
performed at the Royalty Theatre_. The corpulent monarch, in the
character and costume of Henry the Eighth, is receiving a number of
deputations from all parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland, bearing
petitions praying him to dismiss his ministry, the members of which
stand on each side of the throne, one of the number being habited as a
jester. This exceedingly rare plate carries on it the following
explanation: "King Henry VIII. being petitioned to dismiss his ministers
and council by the citizens of London and many boroughs, to relieve his
oppressed subjects, made the citizens this sagacious reply: 'We, with
all our cabinet, think it strange that ye who be but _brutes_ and
inexpert folk, should tell us who be and who be not fit for our


Another of George Cruikshank's rare and valuable contributions to the
Queen Caroline series of pictorial satires is labelled _The Royal
Rushlight_, which many people (among them the Chancellor and corpulent
George) are vainly endeavouring to blow out. By way (it may be) of
contrast, this excellent satire has appended to it the following
miserable doggerel,--

  "Cook, coachee, men and maids, very nearly all in buff,
     Came and swore in their lives they never met with such a light;
   And each of the _family_ by turns had a puff
     At the little farthing rushlight.
   But none of the family could blow out the rushlight."


With the year 1821 came the closing scene in the drama of Caroline's
unhappy but singularly undignified career. On the occasion of the king's
coronation she had applied to Lord Liverpool, desiring to be informed
what arrangements had been made for her convenience, and who were
appointed her attendants at the approaching ceremony. An answer was
returned that, "it was a right of the Crown to give or withhold the
order for her Majesty's coronation, and that his Majesty would be
advised not to give any directions for her participation in the
arrangements;" but with the obstinacy of purpose which was so fatal a
blemish in her character, and which seems to have been the primary cause
of all her misfortunes, she insisted on her right, and declared moreover
her firm intention of attending the ceremony. A respectful but
peremptory reply was returned, reasserting the legal prerogative of the
Crown, and announcing that the former intimation must be understood as
amounting to a _prohibition_ of her attendance. She was however so
ill-advised as to present herself early on the morning of the day (the
19th of July) at the doors of the Abbey of Westminster. The door-keepers
refused to allow her to enter as queen; and she was forced to submit to
the mortification of having to retire without having succeeded (as it
was her evident intention to have done) in marring the arrangements for
the splendid ceremony. By this time the enthusiasm in her favour had
greatly evaporated, and she was received even coldly by her friends the
assembled mob. The mortification proved fatal to her; very shortly
afterwards she was taken ill, and died in less than three weeks after
the unnecessary mortification to which she had thus insisted on exposing

It is probable that if the wishes of her executors had been allowed to
be carried out, the unfortunate woman would have been carried to her
grave in peace. She had directed that her remains should, three days
after her death, be carried to Brunswick for interment; and had Lord
Liverpool been wise, he would have left the executors to carry out the
arrangements after their own fashion. Unfortunately, the Government
decided to take the arrangements into their own hands, and to lay down
the route (the shortest) by which the mournful procession should proceed
to Harwich. No fault can be found with the arrangements themselves,
which were intended to pay the greatest respect to the memory of the
deceased; but the cautions they took brought about the very result they
were anxious to avoid, and at once revived all the slumbering sympathies
of the mob in favour of the unhappy queen. A squabble took place at the
outset, Dr. Lushington, as one of the executors, protesting against the
removal of the corpse; but, escorted by squadrons of Horse-guards Blue,
the procession left Brandenburg House at eight o'clock in the morning of
the 15th of August, in a drizzling rain. The cavalcade reached
Kensington in solemn order; but on arriving at the Gravel Pits, and
attempting to turn off to the left, its progress was instantly blocked
by wagons and carts placed across the road, while a body of men formed
across the streets twenty deep and evinced every disposition to dispute
the passage. A severe conflict took place between them and the
constables, several on both sides being hurt. For an hour and a half
the procession waited for orders, and at length it moved towards London.
On reaching Kensington Gore a squadron of the Life Guards, with a
magistrate at their head, tried in vain to open the park gates, the
crowd vociferating in the meantime, "To the city! the city!" On reaching
Hyde Park Corner, the gate there was found barricaded with carts, and
the procession then moved on to Park Lane, which being also blocked up,
it turned back hastily and entered Hyde Park, through which it proceeded
at a trot, the soldiers having cleared away the obstacles at the gate.
On reaching Cumberland Gate, it was found closed by the populace, and in
the conflict which ensued the park wall was thrown down by the pressure
of the crowd, who hurled the stones at the soldiers, in return for the
use the latter had made of their sabres in clearing the passage. Many of
the military and their horses were hurt; and some of the soldiers,
irritated by their rough usage, resorted to their pistols and carbines,
and two persons (Richard Honey, a carpenter, and George Francis, a
bricklayer) were unfortunately killed, and others wounded. The Edgeware
Road was blockaded, but quickly cleared, and the procession moved on
till it arrived at the turnpike gate near the top of Tottenham Court
Road. There the mob made so determined a stand that further opposition
was deemed unadvisable, and the popular will being at length acceded to,
the cavalcade forthwith took its way into the city. Every street through
which a turn could have been made in order to enter the New Road or the
City Road was found barricaded. As the funeral passed through the city,
the Oxford Blues doing duty there, who had not participated in the
outrage, were cordially greeted by the populace on either side of the
street. The inquests on the bodies of the dead men lasted for a
considerable period. In the case of Francis, a verdict of "wilful murder
against a life guardsman unknown" was returned; whilst in that of Honey,
the verdict was manslaughter against the officers and men of the first
regiment of Life Guards on duty at the time. This event is recorded by
George in a caricature entitled, _The Manslaughter Men, or a Horse Laugh
at the Law of the Land_,--two ghostly gory figures rising from their
graves, which are respectively inscribed, "Verdict, wilful murder," and
"Verdict, manslaughter"; a group of life guardsmen grin and point at the
body, and one of them jeeringly remarks, "Shake not thy bloody locks at
me; ye cannot say who did it." Another satire on the same subject bears
the title of _The Horse Chancellor obtaining a Verdict, or Killing no

Other subjects of this year are the following: _And when Ahitophel saw
that his Counsel was not followed, he Saddled his Ass, and arose and
went and Hanged himself_; _O! O! there's a Minister of the Gospel_; _The
Royal Extinguisher, or the King of Brobdingnag and the Liliputians_
(etched after the design of Isaac Robert). Six subjects, _La Diligence_
and _La Doriane_, _Venus de Medici and Mer de Glace_, _Visit to
Vesuvius_ and _Forum Boarium_, and _Nosing the Nob at Ramsgate_, a
coarsely executed satire aimed at his Majesty and his eccentric subject,
Alderman Sir William Curtis.


Sir William Curtis, alderman, trader, and formerly member for the city,
is one of the most prominent figures in the satires of his time. Making
every allowance for caricature drawing, the likeness must have been on
the whole a faithful though an exaggerated one; for in all the numerous
comical sketches in which he makes an appearance, we never fail to
recognise his ruby nose and ponderous figure. We have already seen him
figuring by way of ludicrous contrast with Claude Ambroise Seurat, the
"living skeleton," and we shall now find him associated by the
caricaturists with no less a person than the king himself. When his
majesty, in 1822, paid his visit to Scotland, and by way of compliment
to the country and her traditions assumed the "garb of old Gael,"
Alderman Sir William Curtis, who followed his sovereign at a respectful
distance, out of compliment to the country, her traditions, "his most
gracious majesty," and himself, put his own corpulent form into fancy
costume, and likewise donned the Highland garb. The absurdly ludicrous
result is told us by Lockhart. "The king at his first levee diverted
many, and delighted Scott by appearing in the full Highland garb--the
same brilliant _Stewart tartans_, so-called, in which certainly no
Stewart, except Prince Charles, had ever before presented himself in
the saloons of Holyrood. His majesty's Celtic toilette had been
carefully watched and assisted by the gallant Laird of Garth, who was
not a little proud of the result of his dexterous manipulations of the
rough plaid, and pronounced the king 'a vara pretty man.' And he did
look a most stately and imposing person in that beautiful dress; but his
satisfaction therein was cruelly disturbed when he discovered, towering
and blazing among and above the genuine Glengarries and Macleods and
MacGregors, a figure even more portly than his own, equipped from a
sudden impulse of loyal ardour in an equally complete set of the
self-same conspicuous Stewart tartans:--

  'He caught Sir William Curtis in a kilt--
  While throng'd the chiefs of every Highland clan
  To hail their brother, Vich Ian Alderman.'[80]

In truth this portentous apparition cast an air of ridicule and
caricature over the whole of Sir Walter's celtified pageantry. A sharp
little bailie from Aberdeen, who had previously made acquaintance with
the worthy Guildhall baronet, and tasted the turtle soup of his
voluptuous yacht, tortured him as he sailed down the long gallery of
Holyrood, by suggesting that after all his costume was not quite
perfect. Sir William, who had been rigged out, as the auctioneer's
advertisements say, 'regardless of expense,' exclaimed that he must be
mistaken, begged he would explain his criticism, and, as he spoke, threw
a glance of admiration on his _skene dhu_ (black knife), which, like a
true 'warrior and hunter of deer,' he wore stuck into one of his
garters. 'Oo ay! Oo ay!' quoth the Aberdonian; 'the knife's a' right,
mon--but faar's your speen?' (where's your spoon?) Such was Scott's
story; but whether he 'gave it a cocked hat and walking cane,' in the
hope of restoring the king's good humour, so grievously shaken by this
heroical _doppel ganger_, it is not very necessary to inquire."[81]

Which indeed of the absurd pair looked the most ridiculous it would be
hard to say: a great-grandson of George the Second in the Highland garb
of "Bonnie Prince Charlie," was perhaps as absurd an anachronism as a
fat cockney alderman in the same fancy costume. Our friends the
caricaturists were fully alive to these puerilities. An anonymous
caricature of the day celebrates the ludicrous event in a satire
entitled, _Equipt for a Northern Visit_, which represents the fat king
and the fat alderman in kilts, the point of the pictorial epigram lying
in the fact that the corpulent king recommends his corpulent subject to
lay aside the costume as unbecoming to a man of _his_ proportions.
George has several pictorial satires on the same fertile theme; one of
these, _Bonnie Willie_, depicts the huge man in Highland garb. A rare
and most amusing caricature shows us the supposed unfortunate _Results
of this Northern Excursion_. The fat king and his fat subject have
caught the northern complaint vulgarly termed the "Scottish fiddle," and
are vigorously going through the traditionary process of rubbing
themselves against the post, blessing the while his grace the Duke of
Argyle. An English acquaintance, not unnaturally afraid of infection,
refuses the alderman's proffered hand.

A caricature of altogether another kind commemorates a raid made by the
Bow Street officers on the numerous gaming establishments of 1822. It is
called, _Cribbage, Shuffling, Whist, and a Round Game_, is divided into
six compartments, and is most humorously and admirably treated. The
principal performers are the knaves of cards. One of the compartments
shows us the knaves on the treadmill, which is marked "Fortune's Wheel;"
while in another a knave is undergoing the discipline of the "cat," and
calling out at every stroke "E. O.! E. O.! E. O.!"[82]


Sir Richard Westmacott's statue of Achilles was executed in 1822. The
nude, undraped colossal figure, which was subscribed for by the ladies
of England in honour of the Duke of Wellington and his soldiers, was the
occasion of numerous contemporary satires--most of them (in those
plain-spoken days) of the broadest possible character. One of the most
indelicate (*) (drawn by the artist from the sketch or suggestion of
another) gives a burlesque front and back view of the figure, which is
surrounded by a number of people (principally ladies), among whom we
recognise a caricature likeness of the "Dook." The inscription runs as
follows: "To Arthur à Bradley, and his jolly companions every one, this
brazen image of Patrick O'Killus, Esq., is inscribed by their
countrywomen."[83] Besides the foregoing, we meet this year with _A
Lollipop-Ally Campagne and Brandy Ball_ (*); _Premium, Par, and
Discount_; _Showing-off--Bang up--Prime_ (*); and _A Sailor's
description of a Chase and Capture_ (*).


A large proportion of his satires for 1823 are aimed at Louis the
Eighteenth's Spanish expedition, the object of which we have already
related. One of these shows us _France the great Nation driven by the
North into the South_; in another, Ferdinand the Seventh and the Duc
d'Angoulème figure respectively as a _Spanish Mule and a French
Jackass_; _A French Hilt on a Spanish Rapier_, is likewise dedicated to
the Duc d'Angoulème; another shows us _Old Bumblehead the 18th trying on
Napoleon's Boots_; a fifth is entitled, _A Hint to the Blind and
Foolish, or the Bourbon Dynasty in Danger_; while a sixth shows us
_Louis the Fat troubled with Nightmare and Dreams of Terror_. In all
these caricatures, the figure of Napoleon, already sleeping his last
sleep at St. Helena--the place of his exile and of his grave--is
represented by way of contrast to the unwieldly and incompetent Bourbon.
Another caricature, the point of which I fail to see, bears the title of
_The Tables Turn'd, or the Devil Outwitted and Cruelly Punished,--a
Scene on the Portsmouth Treadmill_; this last, though said to be
"designed by an amateur," and "etched by G. Ck.," is unquestionably all
his own.


_Drilling One-tenth of the Military in the Manual Exercise_, and _Saint
Shela_ (two subjects), have reference to the Tenth Hussars and Battier
scandal, mentioned in a previous chapter;[84] other subjects of 1824
are: _Parisian Luxury_ (a man being shaved in a bath); _Preparing for a
Duel_; and _The Ostend Packet in a Squall_; all etched by George from
the designs of other artists. The mania for joint-stock companies in
1825, was scarcely equalled by the speculation mania which inaugurated
the passing in our own time of the "Limited Liability Act." In 1824 and
the beginning of 1825, two hundred and seventy-six companies had been
projected, of which the aggregate capital (on paper only) represented
£174,114,050. Thirty-three of these were established for the
construction of canals and docks, forty-eight of railroads, forty-two
for the supply of gas, six of milk, and eight of water, four for the
working of coal, and thirty-four of metal mines; twenty new insurance
companies were started, twenty-three banks, twelve navigation and packet
companies, three fisheries, two for boring tunnels under the Thames,
three for the embellishment and improvement of the metropolis, two for
sea-water baths, and the rest for miscellaneous purposes; it is a
somewhat significant fact that two only had for their object the
establishment of newspapers. Notwithstanding the manifest absurdity of
many of these projects, the shares of several--especially of the mining
adventurers in South America--rose to enormous premiums. Among the last
may be mentioned those of the Real del Monte, the price of which,
between the 10th of December and the 11th of January, rose from £550 to
£1350, and the United Mexican during the same period from £35 to £1550.
On these last shares only £10 had been paid, and on the former only £70.
Speaking of this mania, the Rev. T. F. Dibdin (in his "Reminiscences")
says, "If it did not partake of the name, it had certainly all the wild
characteristics of the South Sea Bubble. To-day you had only to put your
name down to a share or shares in the Rio de la Plata or other South
American mines, and to-morrow a supplicant purchaser would give you
fifty per cent. for every share taken. The old were bewitched ... the
young were in ecstasies. Everybody made a rush for the city. A new world
of wealth had been discovered. It was only to ask and have." George
Cruikshank refers to this state of things in a caricature called, _A
Scene in the Farce of Lofty Projects, as Performed with great success
for the benefit and amusement of John Bull_. Besides these, he gives us
_The Four Mr. Prices_ (High Price, Low Price, Full Price, and Half

I can assign no date to _Waiting on the Ladies_; _The Death of the
Property Tax, or Thirty-seven Mortal Wounds for Ministers and the
Inquisitorial Commissioners_; or to _The Court at Brighton, à la
Chinese_, one of the most admirable of the whole series. In this last,
the fat prince habited as a mandarin, is seated on a sofa between the
Princess Charlotte and an enormously fat woman, probably intended for
the Marchioness of Conyngham. He is handing to a Chinese official a
paper inscribed "Instructions for Lord Amhurst, to get fresh patterns of
Chinese deformities to finish the decorations of Pavilion G. P. R." A
specimen of regency taste and sympathies stands on a pedestal in the
form of the Hottentot Venus, while a statuette of the fat prince
himself, habited in a red coat, white waistcoat, yellow inexpressibles,
and silk stockings, is labelled the "British Adonis." The princess
recommends her papa to order the officer to bring her over "a Chinaman,
instead of getting her a husband among our German cousins." A variety of
miscellaneous articles are strewn about the floor, among them a box
containing the Regent's wigs and whiskers, a treatise on "The Art of
making Punch," the indispensable hamper of champagne, and a pair of
curling irons; while no one will fail to recognise the interior of the
Brighton Pavilion as the scene where this admirable satire is laid.
Another undated satire remains to be noticed: it represents a young man
in a boat with three young women, one of them of considerable personal
attractions, that is to say from a Cruikshankian point of view, and
evidently a likeness. On the shore stands another young woman and her
child, whom the young spark has evidently left behind him. In the stern
of the boat is a hamper of wine and a goblet fashioned out of a skull; a
noseless man rows the boat, while three sailors in an adjoining vessel
make ribald observations in reference to the young man's female
companions. By the star on his coat, the turned-down collar, profile,
and the arrangement of the hair, we take it that the person thus
satirized is Lord Byron. Any doubts we may have on the subject seem
removed by the words of the song he is supposed to be singing while
waving his hat to the disconsolate woman on the shore:--

  "All my faults perchance thou knowest,
    All my _madness_ none can know."

And the concluding stanza:--

  "Fare thee well! thus disunited,
     Torn from every nearer tie,
   Seared in heart, and lone, and blighted,
     More than this I scarce can die"!!

The foregoing contains a list and description of some of George
Cruikshank's graphic satires, many of which we have reason to believe
will be entirely new to the great majority of our readers. They support
the description given of him by Lockhart at the opening of our chapter:
"People consider him as a clever, sharp caricaturist, and nothing
more--a free-handed, comical young fellow, who will do anything he is
paid for, and who is quite content to dine off the proceeds of a 'George
IV.' to-day, and those of a 'Hone,' or a 'Cobbett,' to-morrow." It must
be remembered that these represent but a branch of his work; and that
while content to design a satire as elaborate and as admirable as any
which owe their origin to the hand of Gillray, or to dash off a rough
and carelessly executed caricature, he was equally ready to etch the
work of an inferior artist, or even of an amateur; to execute a drawing
on wood for a ballad, or for one of the numerous political hits of the
day, whether on the loyal or the popular side mattered but little to
him; to do anything, in fact (to use the words of Lockhart), that "was
suggested or thrown in his way." It is barely possible that the very
imperfect series we have given may astonish those who have hitherto
regarded George Cruikshank only as an illustrator of books, and supposed
that, with the exception of the woodcuts for Hone's various _jeux
d'esprits_, and the rough work which appears in "The Satirist," "The
Scourge," and publications of a similar character, he executed but few
pictorial satires. A perfect set of impressions from his caricatures
probably does not exist; if it did it would command a high price indeed.
We have seen a set of about seventy plates advertised by one
enterprising bookseller at the price of seventy pounds. The specimens we
have cited (exclusive of two from "The Scourge") 128 in number, were
published between the years 1808 and 1825, by G. and H. Humphrey, S.
Fairburn, Thomas Tegg, Ackermann, M. Jones, J. Fairburn, J. Dolby, W.
Hone, S. W. Fores, A. Bengo, J. Sidebotham, S. Knight, and J. Johnstone.
If to the foregoing we add the plates in "Cruikshankiana"--twenty-six in
number, thirty in "The Scourge," six in "Fashion," nine in "The
Satirist," and eight in the "Loyalists' Magazine," we get seventy-nine
more, making a sum total of over two hundred in all. How many more have
escaped notice--how many have disappeared for ever from public notice
without a chance of recovery or revival--it would be, perhaps,
impossible to say; for even George himself was sometimes at fault, when
the long-forgotten work of his early years was presented to him for
recognition or acknowledgment.


  [66] Alluding to the "Life in London."

  [67] This certainly was not true; both Gillray and Rowlandson were
    draughtsmen and artists of exceptionable ability.

  [68] The article from which this is quoted is variously assigned to
    Professor Wilson and Lockhart; it matters little which. Meanwhile, we
    must have a name, let it be Lockhart's.

  [69] The editor of "The Scourge" was one Jack Mitford. He received a
    classical education, was originally in the navy, and fought under
    Hood and Nelson. Besides "The Scourge," he edited "The Bon Ton"
    magazine, and "Quizzical Gazette," and was author of a sea song once
    popular, "The King is a true British Sailor." He was an irreclaimable
    drunkard, thought only of the necessities of the hour, and slept in
    the fields when his finances would not admit of payment of a twopenny
    lodging in St. Giles's. His largest work was "Johnny Newcome in the
    Navy," for which the publisher gave him the generous remuneration of
    a shilling a day till he finished it. He died in St. Giles's
    workhouse in 1831.

  [70] The reader may remember that Napoleon once contracted a skin
    disease from taking up a weapon which had been wielded by a dead
    artilleryman, which gave him trouble at various periods of his life.
    It may be that this suggested the subject.

  [71] See the "Declaration of the Powers," from which we have already

  [72] "Narrative of Captain Maitland," p. 109.

  [73] The Regent's selfish nature and expensive habits may be judged
    by the following extract from the Greville Memoirs. Under date of
    1830, Mr. Greville writes: "Sefton gave me an account of the dinner
    in St. George's Hall on the King's [William IV.] birthday, which was
    magnificent, excellent, and well served. Bridge came down with the
    plate, and was hid during the dinner behind the great wine-cooler,
    which weighs 7,000 ounces, and he told Sefton afterwards that the
    plate in the room was worth £200,000. There is another service of
    plate which was not used at all. The king has made it all over to the
    crown. _All this plate was ordered by the late king, and never used;
    his delight was ordering what the public had to pay for._"--_Greville
    Memoirs_, vol. ii. p. 42.

  [74] See Report of the Select Committee of the House of Commons on
    the Earl of Elgin's Collection ... of Marbles ("Annual Reg.," 1816,
    p. 447).

  [75] See Chapter III. (1817).

  [76] The idea of the letterpress description (a very long one), from
    which the above is an extract, is borrowed of course from Dr.

  [77] See Chapter III. (1817).

  [78] See Chapter III. (1817).

  [79] She was fond of adopting children, and it was proved that she
    had adopted a daughter of the man Bergami.

  [80] Byron's "Age of Bronze."

  [81] Lockhart's "Life of Scott," vol. v. p. 203.

  [82] "E. O." was another name for roulette, and forms the subject of
    one of Rowlandson's early and best caricatures.

  [83] The following are the words of the original inscription: "To
    Arthur, Duke of Wellington, and his brave companions in arms, this
    statue of Achilles, cast from cannon taken in the battles of
    Salamanca, Vitoria, Toulouse, and Waterloo, is inscribed by their

  [84] See Chapter IV.




Those who have studied the work of George Cruikshank from its
commencement to its close (and those only can be said to have done so
who are familiar with the satires described in the previous chapter),
cannot fail to be struck with the alterations which took place in his
style at different periods of the career we have already been
considering. George Cruikshank's peculiar style and manner, which enable
us to recognise his work at a glance, was the outcome of a very slow and
gradual process of development. In the first instance he closely copied
Gillray, but soon acquired a manner of his own, blending the two styles
after a fashion which is both interesting and amusing to follow. Soon,
however, the style of the master was discontinued, and gradually the
artist began to discover that the bent of his genius lay in altogether
another direction. Unlike Thomas Rowlandson, the moment Cruikshank
became an illustrator of books, he realized the fact that the style
adapted to graphic satire was unsuitable for the purposes of this branch
of art, and thenceforth he adopted a style differing from anything which
had gone before. The revolution thus accomplished (a singular proof of
the genius of the man) was effected without effort, and is strikingly
manifest in an early book illustration representing the execution of
Madame Tiquet and her accomplice, in 1699. The design to which we refer,
which we believe is rare and little known, was engraved by H. R. Cook,
from a design by the artist for the frontispiece to a collection of
narratives by Cecil, "printed for Hone," in 1819, and stands by virtue
of its force and character apart from most of the book illustrations of
the period. From the moment that the new style was adopted, the
artist's services were brought into requisition for the purposes of book
illustration; and from the time work of this kind began to come in, he
relaxed and afterwards discontinued the practice of caricature. It is as
an etcher and designer of book illustrations we shall henceforth have to
consider him, and in this character one of his famous illustrations to
"Greenwich Hospital" will be found superior to the whole series of
Rowlandson's careless overdrawn designs to the three "Tours" of Syntax
put together.

This alteration in the man's style after he took to book illustration is
known only to those familiar with his early caricatures. If you take,
for instance, the etching of _St. Swithin's Chapel_, of the "Sketch
Book," or _The Gin Shop_ in the "Scraps and Sketches"[85] (we are
speaking of course of the early _coloured_ impressions), and show them
together with any two of the caricatures we have named to a person who
had never before seen either, we will venture to say that he would
pronounce them without hesitation to be executed by entirely different


After Lockhart's statement that George Cruikshank was capable of
designing an _Annunciation_, a _Beatification_, or an _Apotheosis_, we
must accept his assertion that he "understood the [human] figure
completely" with a certain amount of reservation. Perhaps he did; and if
he did, he certainly played some extraordinary tricks with the "figure"
aforesaid. The truth is, that we forget the artist's weaknesses, many
and glaring as they are, in the lustre of his unexampled _genius_. _The
Times_, in an otherwise laudatory article which it published after his
death, remarked that "there was not a single beautiful face or figure
probably in the whole range of Cruikshank's work." Now, although this is
not entirely true, there is at least so much of truth in it that we may
admit that the cases in which he has produced a pretty face or figure
are very few and far between, and even those cases seem rather to have
been the result of accident than of design. There is no getting over
the fact that George's ideas of female beauty were, to say the least of
them, peculiar: his women are fearfully and wonderfully made; they are
horse-faced; their eyebrows are black and strongly marked; their hair is
plastered to the sides of their faces, and meet bobs of hair at the back
of their heads; their waists are as thin as their necks; and they all
bear a strong family likeness to one another. _The Times_ assertion is
happily, however, so broad that it is easy to traverse and contradict
it. George's handsome women are so few, that it is difficult at the
moment to say where any of them may be found. I know at least of one
amazingly handsome one--the _London Barrow Woman_ in Hone's "Every-Day
Book." Some pretty servant girls will be found in the etching of _The
Sergeant Introducing his Dutch Wife to his Friends_ in "St. James's, or
the Court of Queen Anne," and I will undertake to point out at least
half a dozen pretty faces in the course of illustrations to "The Miser's
Daughter"; but after all, these are only exceptions to the general rule;
and it may be safely conceded that as a delineator of female beauty,
George could not hold a candle to John Leech, to John Tenniel, or even
to his own brother, Isaac Robert.


As for the celebrated Cruikshankian steed, I give him up at once as an
utterly irreclaimable and unmanageable brute. Thackeray, writing in
1840, said, that "though our artist does not draw horses very
scientifically, to use the phrase of the _atelier_; he feels them very
keenly, and his queer animals, after one is used to them, answer quite
as well as better." Even on this subject, however, the ablest critics
have contradicted each other. George Augustus Sala tells us that the
artist "could draw the ordinary nag of real life well enough," and cites
by way of example the very horses of the celebrated _Deaf Postilion_, in
"Three Courses and a Dessert," which Thackeray had previously held up to
well-merited execration. He goes on to tell us that when George "essayed
to portray a charger or a hunter, or a lady's hack, or even a pair of
carriage horses, the result was the most grotesque of failures. The
noble animal has, I apprehend, forty-four 'points,' technically
speaking, and from the muzzle to the spavin-place, from the crest to
the withers, from the root of the dock to the fetlock, George was wrong
in them all. His fiery steed bore an equal resemblance to a Suffolk
punch with the head of a griffin and the legs of an antelope, and that
traditionary cockhorse on which the lady was supposed to ride to Banbury
Cross with rings on her fingers and bells on her toes."[86] His
peculiarities notwithstanding, George himself was in no wise conscious
of them, and never hesitated to introduce "the fiery untamed" into any
scene--battle or otherwise--in which the services of the eccentric
animal might be turned to account. We find him assisting Washington in
his triumphal journey to the capitol; astonishing the French squares in
the character of a Mameluke charger at the Battle of the Pyramids; and
leaping into the lake along with "Herne the Hunter," that peculiar
creation of the late Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, on which supernatural
occasion he comes out, as might have been expected, with peculiar force
and vigour.

Thackeray, moreover, says of his trees, that they were decidedly
original, "being decidedly of his own make and composition, not imitated
from any master;" another and a minor difficulty with the artist was a
boot, which he invariably drew half a foot too long. George lived in the
days of straps, and being strictly conservative in principle, when he
met with a pair of trousers, his idea of the "fitness of things" was not
satisfied until he pinned them to the wearer's feet with a pair of these
most uncomfortable appendages.

Against these shortcomings, which are a sufficient answer to those who
would give him credit for possessing the faculty of designing
"Annunciations, Beatifications, Apotheoses," and the like, we must set
his excellencies, the power and brilliancy of his imaginative faculties,
his extraordinary talents of conception and realization, the delicacy of
his manipulation and execution: in a word, the strong original "genius"
with which Lockhart credited him from the moment he had seen his "Points
of Humour." Examples of this "genius" might be cited by the thousand.
Look only at the famous "Sketch Book;" its recent republication has
placed it within the reach of every one of our readers. Look at the
_Sprig of Shelalegh_, the rollicking, whiskey drinking, fighting,
devil-may-care _expression_ he has thrown into that _piece of wood_;
turn to the sheet wherein he has recorded his _Recollections of the
Court of Common Pleas_, and study the group of lawyers' and witnesses'
faces therein contained. There is "genius" for you, if you will. If you
are overworked, turn to them; they will do you good, for they will not
only make you merry, but force upon you the conviction that the
conception which created them was essentially original. It is this
delightful originality of George Cruikshank which constitutes his

  GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. "_Three Courses and a Dessert._"


  (_See p. 169._)]

  GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. "_Three Courses and a Dessert._"


  "I doan't want to hurt thee, zo I leaves thee wi' un, but, mind--he'll
  hold thy droat a little tighter than I did, if thee wags a hair."

  _Face p. 171._]

"No plan!" "no ambition!" "not much industry!" so at least said
Lockhart. We may doubt whether even at the time it was spoken this
charge had any foundation of truth to rest upon; an answer to it at
least will be found in the fact that, before the mysterious spell had
fallen upon him we shall presently have to describe, this sterling and
indefatigable genius had already produced thousands upon thousands of
miraculous little drawings. From the mass of these wonderful creations
we propose now to select a few examples, choosing them in the first
instance from a graver type than some we shall presently have to

"Greenwich Hospital" gives us one of the very best drawings which
Cruikshank ever designed. The scene of the _Point of Honour_ is laid on
board the _Triumph_, at Spithead, at the time of the famous mutiny. A
detachment of marines with shouldered arms are drawn up on the quarter
deck, their drummer is beating to quarters, while all hands are
assembled to witness a degrading and demoralizing spectacle,--a sailor,
with his shoulders bare and his hands tied to the triangles, about to
receive punishment for disobedience to orders. Conspicuous amongst the
figures are two little middies, habited in the strange naval uniform of
sixty years ago. The illustration to _The Braintrees_, at page 90 of the
"Three Courses and a Dessert" is a marvellous specimen, not only of the
graphic power of the artist, but a triumph of the wood-engraver's
craft. In _The Gin Shop_ ("Sketches by Boz"), the artist selected a
subject which invariably enlisted his sympathy and called into action
the full power of his graphic satire. Mark the flaming gas, the huge
spirit vats, the gaudily painted pillars and mouldings; above all, the
strange people: the young man with his hat on one side who chaffs the
young ladies behind the bar, the gin-drinking female by his side, the
gin-loving cripple, the small boy who brings the family bottle to be
filled with gin, whose head barely reaches the counter, the gin-drinking
charwoman to the left, and the quarrelsome gin-drinking Irish customers
at the back. Everything in this picture reeks of _gin_; the only persons
not imbibing it are the proprietor and his dowdy barmaids, whom I have
no manner of doubt the artist intended to look captivating.

"What a fine touching picture of melancholy desolation," remarks
Thackeray, "is that of 'Sikes and the dog.' The poor cur is not too well
drawn, the landscape is stiff and formal; but in this case the faults,
if faults they be, of execution rather add to than diminish the effect
of the picture: it has a strange, wild, dreary, broken-hearted look; we
fancy we see the landscape as it must have appeared to Sikes, when
ghastly and with bloodshot eyes he looked at it." The etching of
_Jonathan Wild Discovering Darrell in the Loft_ ["Jack Sheppard"]
reminds one, in its treatment, of Rembrandt, for the work of Cruikshank,
be it observed, distinctly shows in its results that he studied both
Hogarth and Rembrandt. The effect the artist has produced is wonderful;
the ray of light thrown through the gloom upon the figure of Darrell as
he stands against the wall, sword in hand, is capitally managed, "while
the intricacies of the tile-work, and the mysterious twinkling of light
among the beams are excellently felt and rendered."[87] _Simon Renard
and Winwike on the Roof of the White Tower_ ["Tower of London"] is
another admirable drawing. The scene is laid on the platform of one of
the antique guns which frown from the embrasures of the river face of
the fortress. The head of Renard is not well drawn. The character of
the ambassador gives one the idea of a Spanish Iago, a clever,
calculating knave, whom we should credit with the possession of a broad
and lofty forehead, indicative of deep and concentrated thought; in the
etching, however, before us, he has none at all, a deficiency
compensated by puffy cheeks and a preposterous beak. These
imperfections, which in another artist would mar the drawing, serve only
to throw its excellencies into prominent notice. The lights and shadows
are most effectively rendered, and the setting sun throws a broad light
upon the features of the warder, who has laid aside his arquebus while
conversing with the wily Spaniard. Of the many who have noticed the
well-known etching of _Born a Genius and Born a Dwarf_ ["Comic Almanack,
1847"], not one (so far at least as we know) has ever mentioned its
origin. The subject was prompted by one of the last entries in the diary
of poor Benjamin Robert Haydon, who died by his own hand on the 22nd of
June, 1846, his corpse being found at the foot of his colossal picture
of _Alfred the Great and the First British Jury_. The entry runs as
follows:--"Tom Thumb had 12,000 people last week, B. R. Haydon 133-1/2
(the 1/2 a little girl). Exquisite taste of the English people!" In the
etching which shows us _Randulph and Hilda Dancing in the Rotunda at
Ranelagh_ ["Miser's Daughter"], he brings us face to face with our
great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers; wherever he got his authority
from, the huge circular hall with galleries and arches running round it,
illuminated by a thousand lamps, and the curious orchestra with the
old-fashioned sounding-board above, are no freak of the artist's
imagination. The etching possesses a wondrous charm of reality. We find
ourselves assisting, as it were, at one of the masquerades described in
"Sir Charles Grandison"; many of the company are in fancy dresses, and
we find it difficult to realize, in these broad-cloth days, that the
gentlemen in the velvet coats, with gold-bound embroidered waistcoats,
silk stockings, silver gilt rapiers, and laced hats, dancing minuets
with Chinamen, harlequins, scaramouches, templars, and other
fancifully-dressed persons, are simply wearing the every-day costume of
men of fashion of the day.


Perhaps more than any other comic artist of past or present time, George
is distinguished by his mannerisms. His horses, his women, the costumes
of his male and female characters, the cut of their garments and of
their boots, the arrangement of their hair, will proclaim his
individuality anywhere; and yet, if you look at any of the designs which
he executed in his best and brightest days, before he took up with the
mania which contributed, as we shall presently see, so largely to the
ruin of his artistic genius, fame, and fortunes, we cannot fail to be
impressed with the quaintness of his imagination. In this quaintness and
originality lie the charm and freshness which is the peculiar
characteristic of his designs. Unlike those of other artists, you may
turn over volume after volume of his sketches, and be conscious of no
sense of weariness. Much of this no doubt is due to their constant
variety. Unlike the generality of modern illustrators, he is not limited
to the costumes and incidents of the every-day commonplace life of the
nineteenth century; he does not confine himself to humour; his fancy
takes a wider range, and revels in subjects of wonder, diablery, and
romance. Gnomes and fairies, devils and goblins, knights, giants,
jesters, and morris dancers are continually passing before us; there is
an endless succession of novelties, treated with a quaintness of fancy
which distinguishes it above all others; there is a ceaseless variety in
his _dramatis personæ_, while the characters are as various as the
subjects. In these characteristics seem to lie the secret of the
pleasure which his illustrations, whether they be drawn on wood or
etched on the copper, never fail to inspire.

The sale and purchase of Peter Schlemihl's _Shadow_ has been noticed by
Thackeray. We see the Old Gentleman neatly packing up his purchase after
the manner of an "old clo'" dealer; he has just "lifted the _shadow of
one leg_; he is going to fold it back neatly, as one does the tails of a
coat, and will stow it, without any creases or crumples, along with the
other black garments that lie in that immense pocket of his."[88]
Another illustration in the same book shows us Peter, after he has
repented of his bargain (as vendors invariably do who indulge in
mercantile transactions of this character) in ardent pursuit of his
shadow, which the tantilizing purchaser has let out for the occasion.
Can anything more ludicrous be imagined than this scampering piece of
intangibility? The etching of _Sailors Carousing_ ["Greenwich
Hospital"], executed in 1826, before the artist had altogether
discontinued the style and manner of Gillray, would have delighted the
heart of that accomplished caricaturist. An old one-eyed salt presides
over a vast bowl of punch, the contents of which he is engaged in
distributing to the company. One enthusiastic tar foots it with such
vigour that he cannons against a potman, upsetting him and the measure
of scalding liquor he carries over another angry, blaspheming sailor
man; another sea worthy, snoring drunk, has converted his quart pot into
an impromptu pillow, his own recumbent form serving the purposes of a
footstool to a companion. The females are a combination of the styles of
Gillray and Cruikshank, and, with one exception, are old, ugly, and
preposterously fat. A comical illustration in the same book is called,
_Paying off a Jew Pedlar_. The unhappy man (who had cheated the
sailors), innocent of danger, is seated on a grating with his combs,
spy-glasses, necklaces, ribbons, and all the rest of his "Brummagem"
trumpery, spread out before him. The men, who have slily hitched a rope
to the grating, suddenly give it a hoist, and away slides Moses, with
all his wares and trumpery, into the hold together! How poor Seymour
would have revelled in that admirable tailpiece in "Three Courses and a
Dessert," where an unhappy wight, pursued by a bull, manages to scramble
atop of a gate-post (the only part free from spikes), to find his escape
cut off on one side by a couple of bull-dogs, and on the other by a
_chevaux-de-frise_ terminating in a horse pond! We meet with a solemn
piece of fun in _Simpkin Dancing to the Musicians_, one of the
illustrations to the celebrated "New Bath Guide" of Christopher Anstey--

  "And I thought it was right, as the music was come,
   To foot it a little in Tabitha's room."







  _Face p. 175._]

_The Last Cab Driver_ ["Sketches by Boz"] deserves a passing notice,
because it has preserved from oblivion a class of vehicles which has
long since disappeared from the London streets. It looked for all the
world like the section of a coffin set on end, the seat (which was
intended to accommodate only one person besides the driver) occupying
the centre. The cabman being a very _mauvais sujet_, we find the
surroundings (after the artist's practice) in strict keeping with his
character. The building past which he drives is marked "Old Bailey";
whilst a snuff manufacturer in the street at the back advertises himself
as the vendor of "Real Irish Blackguard."


The dry, quaint humour of the author of "Waverley" exactly suited the
quaint imaginings of our artist. Both Scott and Cruikshank delighted in
the supernatural and the marvellous, and this is why some of the most
characteristic of the artist's designs are to be found in his
illustrations to the "Waverley Novels." In one of these he shows us the
illustrious Dominie at the moment, when reaching over to gather a
water-lily, he falls souse into the Slough of Lochend, in which he
forthwith became bogged up to the middle, his plight drawing from him of
course his favourite ejaculation of amazement. By the assistance of some
women the luckless Dominie was extracted from his position, justifying
the remark of one of his assistants, that "the laird might as weel trust
the care of his bairn to a potato-bogle." Which was the most helpless of
the two men--the Laird of Dumbiedikes, or the illustrious Dominie--it
would be difficult to say; both these most original characters took a
powerful hold on the artist's imagination, and as a natural consequence
the ideas of Scott were completely realized. A very comical design is
that in which he shows us the worthy but witless laird with his laced
cocked hat and empty tobacco pipe,[89] and his hand extended "like the
claw of a heraldic griffin," when he managed to utter something beyond
his usual morning greeting, and frightened Jeannie into the belief that
he had so far "screwed his courage to the sticking place" as to venture
on a matrimonial proposal, to which unwonted effort of imagination his
intelligence, however, proved altogether unequal.


In the "Comic Almanack" will be found many examples of George's tendency
to graphic alliteration. _The Fall of the Leaf_ affords a capital
specimen of the kind of design to which we allude. The leaf of the
dinner-table has been so insecurely fastened that it falls, burying with
it the mistress of the house, the fish, the champagne, a sherry
decanter, a vase of flowers,--everything, in fact, to which it formed a
treacherous and unreliable support; Gibbon's "Decline and Fall" lies in
a corner of the room, and the walls are hung with appropriate subjects,
such as the Fall of Foyers, the Falls of Niagara, Falls of the Clyde,
and so on. An illustration of a similar kind will be found in _Taurus--a
Literary Bull_. The animal has rushed into a printing office and
scattered the compositors right and left; some seek shelter beneath
their frames, one clambers wildly up the shelves of a paper case, while
others scuttle over the frames, and one man, too wholly dismayed and
bewildered to run, brandishes a stool in helpless imbecility. The bull
is perhaps the most astonished of the _dramatis personæ_, and evidently
wonders into what manner of place fate has brought him. The walls are
pasted with appropriate advertisements: "Some Account of the Pope's
Bull," "A Cock and Bull Story," "Theatre Royal, Haymarket--John Bull"
"To be Sold by Auction, the Bull Inn," "Abstract of the Act against
Bull-baiting," and so on. In _Libra Striking the Balance_ (same year), a
dishonest tradesman has been detected in using false weights and
measures. The beadle holds up a pair of scales, one of which weighs very
much heavier than the other. The wretched culprit, conscious, all too
late, that honesty would have proved "the best policy" for himself,
leans against his shelves the picture of sullen and detected guilt. The
window of the shop bears on it the painted _legend_ of "The cheapest
shop in London." Leaning against the counter we find a programme of the
"City Theatre," announcing the performance of "Measure for Measure": to
conclude with "Honest Thieves"; an officer outside (surrounded by a
deeply interested crowd) is engaged in breaking up a second pair of
dishonest scales. Chronology, difference in politics, character, tastes,
and disposition, are most amusingly set at defiance in the etching
entitled _The Revolution at Madame Tussaud's_ [1847]: Mary Queen of
Scots "treads a measure" with William Penn the Quaker; Fox and Pitt make
long noses at each other from opposite sides of the room; O'Connell
shakes hands with Freschi, to whom our old friend the elderly country
gentleman offers a friendly pinch of snuff; William Shakespeare flirts
with an almond-eyed Chinese woman; Henry the Eighth smokes a long
churchwarden with Judge Jefferys; Lord Byron (with greater propriety)
exchanges friendly greetings with Jean Jacques Rousseau; whilst the
great Napoleon unbends, as chroniclers assert that he was wont to do,
and waltzes round the room with Madame Tussaud, and Britannia (to the
uproarious delight of Sir William Wallace) rasps her trident across her
shield, by way of accompaniment to the fiddle of the Saturnine Paganini.

The fun of these side splitting designs is only equalled by their
variety. The "Almanack" of 1838 introduces us to the inevitable row
which forms the wind-up of a Hibernian _festa_; chairs, sticks,
shovels,--anything that comes to hand is used without fear or favour;
men, women, children struggle together in inextricable confusion amidst
the _débris_ of wrecked furniture, broken glass, and battered pewter;
high above the din drone the nasal tones of the piper; while amidst the
infernal clatter "the praist" vainly endeavours to re-establish order
and make himself heard. _Theatrical Fun Dinner_ (1841) represents the
close of the banquet. Hamlet is already too far gone to know what he is
doing; Othello belabours Iago with a bottle; Shylock and Antonio
fraternize; whilst a reconciliation is established between Macbeth and
Macduff, who chink glasses by way of cementing their friendship; Sir
John Falstaff lights his pipe at Bardolph's nose; whilst Romeo hands up
a glass of something short and strong to his Juliet in the balcony. 1842
gives us the celebrated etching of "_Gone!_" an auctioneer "knocking
down" a bust of Socrates; at the word "_gone_" the flooring gives way,
and auctioneer, buyers, and Socrates, with all their surroundings,
descend with a simultaneous crash into the cellars below. Drowning men
catch at straws, and the spectacled visage of the auctioneer, as he
clings wildly to his rostrum, is a perfect study of terrified

In looking at these quaint designs, the mind of any one possessed of any
imagination at all cannot fail to be impressed with a sense of the
original train of thought which must have characterized the man who
could conceive and realize them. How appropriately and admirably, even
in trivial matters, the details of the design are worked out! If the
reader will refer to the etching in "St. James'," where the sergeant
places the boot of his master, the Duke of Marlborough, on a map of
Flanders, he will at once see what we mean. The action is accidental;
and yet where could the boot have been placed with greater propriety?
for surely if any country was under the heel of the great English
captain, it was Flanders. Nothing to equal these designs are ever seen
in these days, perhaps nothing like them will ever be seen again. There
are many excellent comic designs produced by our artists of to-day; but
with the exception, perhaps, of Mr. Caldicott and Colonel Seccombe, they
lack _character_. You pass them by, and straightway forget them. Not so
with these admirable little designs; you turn to them again and again,
and each time with a refreshing sense of pleasure. Herein seems to lie
the power of true genius--that its productions give not only a sense of
freshness and delight, but that the sensation so conveyed will not die.
There are people, I believe, on whom they produce no such impression;
such people, as regards comic art, are for all practical purposes "dry
bones," and to dry bones such as these the pencil of "honest George"
will appeal in vain.

Some writers on the subject of Cruikshank and his work would have us
believe that he developed his highest powers of imagination and fancy,
and achieved his highest reputation, when depicting subjects of a fairy
or supernatural order. Whether these scribes be right or whether they be
wrong, there is no doubt that he discovered for himself an enchanted
land of mountain and streamlet, of meadow and waterfall, of gnomes and
fairies, of demons, witches, and of giants. The process by which he
attained his excellence as an illustrator of fairy lore and legend has
been related by himself in his own simple, unpolished words in the
(so-called) "Fairy Library." Unquestionably the opportunity which these
subjects afforded of exercising untrammelled his marvellous gifts of
imagination and fancy, and of realizing objects which owe their being to
the creative faculties of his mind, were eagerly embraced by the artist;
but, although the results were singularly weird and often very
beautiful, I find myself obliged to differ from those who would have us
believe that in realizing subjects of this kind he attained his highest
excellence. The charm of George Cruikshank's talent lies in the fact
that notwithstanding his defects in drawing, _everything_ he took in
hand is impressed with the stamp of a strong and original genius; it is
like nothing we have seen before; every one of his designs is marked
with distinctive features of beauty, quaintness, or originality peculiar
to himself.




  _Face p. 180._]

The "German Popular Stories" probably contain the most striking specimens
of Cruikshank's power as a designer of _fairy_ subjects. In reference to
these illustrations, our great critic, Mr. Ruskin, says: "They are of
quite sterling and admirable art, in a class precisely parallel in
elevation to the character of the tales which they illustrate; and the
original etchings, as I have before said in the Appendix to my 'Elements
of Drawing,' were unrivalled in masterfulness of touch since Rembrandt, in
some qualities of delineation unrivalled even by him." "_The Two Elves_,"
says Hamerton, "especially the nearer one, who is putting on his breeches,
are drawn with a point at once so precise and vivacious, so full of keen
fun and inimitably happy invention, that I have not found their equal in
comic etching anywhere ... the picturesque details of the room are etched
with the same felicitous intelligence; but the marvel of the work is in
the expression of the strange little faces, and the energy of the comical
wee limbs."[90] In _The Witches' Frolic_ ["Letters on Demonology and
Witchcraft"], we find a happy blending of the terrible and the grotesque.
Look at the old hags floating out to sea in their tubs; and the strange,
uncanny thing with dreadful eyes bobbing up and down midway between the
foremost old woman and the distant vessel. The _thing_ may be a ship, it
may be a fish, or it may be a fiend,--in the dim half light we cannot tell
what,--but it is horribly suggestive of nightmare, and makes one laugh as
well as shudder. Some ghostly goblins, the creations of George's weird
fancy, will be found in "The Omnibus"; we see them following a ghostly
ship manned by ghostly mariners, and we find in the same book ghostly
Dutchmen playing a game of diabolical leap-frog with Australian kangaroos.
In one illustration he introduces us to a cheerful assembly of ancestral
ghosts: there is the ghostly saucer-eyed head of the family, with a
ghostly hound peeping beneath his chair, a ghostly grandmother, half a
dozen ghostly spinster aunts, a ghostly butler, a ghostly cook, a ghostly
small boy, two ghostly candles; and lastly, a ghostly cat. Small wonder
that under the influence of such ghostly surroundings the hair of the
affrighted ghost-seer stands erect in the extremity of his terror.

This same book contains, too, the celebrated etching of _Jack
o'Lantern_, probably the best illustration of the supernatural which we
owe to the pencil and weird imagination of the artist. "Talk of Fuseli
and his wind-bag, there is real vivid imagination enough in this to make
a whole academy of Fuselis. It is just an Egyptian darkness, with
breaking through it, above a bog-hole, some black bulrushes, and above
them a bending, leathery goblin exulting over some drowned traveller,
the meteor lamp he carries casting a downward flicker on the dark water.
Such darkness, such wicked speed, such bad, Puck-like malice, such
devilry, Hoffman and Poe together could not have better devised. Many a
May exhibition has not half the genius in all its pictures that focuses
in that gem of jet." The description is admirable; but Walter Thornbury
has altogether misconceived the artist's idea. _Jack o'Lantern_ is
simply misguiding a belated traveller into a bog, and the elfin grin
which pervades his countenance testifies to the delight he takes in his
mischievous employment. The words of the song in Dryden's _King Arthur_
convey the best possible description of this wondrous conception:--

  "Hither this way, this way bend,
   Trust not that malicious fiend;
   Those are false, deluding lights,
   Wafted far and near by sprights;
   Trust 'em not, for they'll deceive ye,
   And in bog and marshes leave ye,
   If you step no danger thinking,
   Down you fall, a furlong sinking;
   'Tis a fiend who has annoyed ye,
   Name but Heav'n, and he'll avoid ye."

By way of contrast to all these, I would turn to the celebrated and
much-too-often-described _Triumph of Cupid_, of the "Table Book"; but as
the praises of this remarkable composition may already be counted by the
ream, I have no intention whatever of contributing a further addition.

  GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. _From "The Universal Songster."_


  GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. _From "The Universal Songster._"

    "A tall figure her sight engross'd,
     And it cried, 'I beez Giles Scroggin's Ghost.'"

  _Face p. 182._]

A notice, however, of George Cruikshank's supernatural work would be
incomplete without some reference to his _devils_. From time immemorial
our idea of His Satanic Majesty has been associated with the
distinguishing appendages of horns, hoofs, and a cow's tail. "A conceit
there is," says old Sir Thomas Browne, "that the devil commonly
appeareth with a cloven hoof, wherein, although it seems excessively
ridiculous, there may be somewhat of truth, and the ground thereof at
first might be his frequent appearing in the shape of a goat, which
answers the description." George Cruikshank too well apprehended the
cunning nature of His Satanic Majesty to suppose him idiotic enough to
introduce his hoofs, his horns, or his tail into the company of all
sorts and conditions of men. It will be remembered that Fitz Dottrel
takes leave to doubt the identity of the devil who waits upon him in the
character of a body servant. "You cannot," he says, "cozen _me_. Your
shoe's not cloven, sir; you are whole hoofed." But "Pug" simply and
unaffectedly assures him, "Sir, that's a popular error,--deceives
many."[91] Like "Pug," George Cruikshank's devils accommodate
themselves, their appearance, and their costume to the prejudices of the
persons they design to serve. With saints and perverse sinners it is
obvious that any attempt at disguise would be futile; but with so
respectable a person as a Dutch burgher, or so suspicious an individual
as an English lawyer, the case is altogether different. We have
specimens of the respectable devil in the "long-legged bondholder" who
appears to his unfortunate Dutch debtor; the portly, well-dressed little
man in the "Gentleman in black"; and the seedy looking old clothes
dealer of "Peter Schlemihl." Quite a different devil to any of these is
the devil that interviews St. Nicholas, the devil whom St. Medard
circumvented, or the simple-minded and unfortunate devil that fell into
the clutches of St. Dunstan. This last is probably the most comical
_diabolique_ that Cruikshank ever designed. In an evil hour this
miserable fiend had irritated the saint by mimicking his musical powers;
and growing bolder with impunity, even ventured to challenge his skill
as a mechanic, by doubting his ability to fit a shoe to his own
diabolical hoof. The saint promptly whipped up the leg, and it was not
until this simple devil found himself in the clutches of the saint, that
he fully comprehended the prodigious powers of the holy personage he had
ventured to chaff. In spite of his howls and frantic efforts to escape,
the iron shoe is remorselessly fitted, and nail after nail driven into
the quick. Imagine the sufferings of that poor devil; observe his
comically distorted countenance as he bellows with agony and impotent
rage; how his tail curls round his leg in the extremity of his anguish!
The worst perhaps has to follow, for in spite of the agony of his
crippled hoof, a deed will have to be "signed, sealed, and delivered,"
by which his claim to a legion of sinful souls has to be for ever
released and extinguished. It is worthy of remark that George
Cruikshank's devils--simple-minded, weak creatures, more mischievous
than really wicked, in all their contests with the saints (Saint Anthony
excepted) invariably come off second best.

In estimating his merits, the genius of George Cruikshank may not
inaptly be compared to a diamond. One facet often emits more brilliant
coruscations than any other; and if we may be permitted to compare his
powers of realizing the grave, the comical, the supernatural, and the
terrible to the facets of a diamond, we think the one which would be
found to emit the most brilliant flashes of light would be the last.
Thackeray, one of the most friendly and most competent of his critics,
would seem to have considered that much of his power was shown in
depicting subjects of this kind. "What a fine eye," he tells us, in his
famous article which has supplied the backbone--the muscles--the very
integuments of so many others,--"what a fine eye the artist has, what a
skilful hand, and what a sympathy for the wild and dreadful!"

  _Designed, Etched and Published by_ GEORGE CRUIKSHANK._November 1st,


    "--now, Oh dear, how shocking the thought is,
     They makes the gin from aquafortis:

     They do it on purpose folks' lives to shorten,
     And tickets it up at two-pence a quartern."--_New Ballad._

  _Face p. 184._]

From an early period of his career as an etcher and designer, George had
waged a deadly war with gin,--that potent, insidious, and evil spirit of
London; the most priceless services he rendered to the cause of
temperance being unquestionably given long before he had any notion of
joining the ranks of the total abstainers. Like the _Triumph of Cupid_,
the well-known _Gin Juggernaut_ of the "Sketch Book" requires nothing
more than a passing allusion. An example less known but quite as
admirable will be found in the "Scraps and Sketches." It is called _The
Gin Shop_,[92] and shows us the interior of a London gin palace. In
place of the usual barrels, around the walls are ranged coffins,
labelled respectively: "Deady's Cordial;" "Blue Ruin;" "Gin and
Bitters;" the largest (a huge one) being marked "Old Tom." Death,
habited as a watchman, has baited a huge gin trap, wherein stand five
persons (two of them children, besides a baby in arms), _all_ imbibing
the deadly liquid. The wretched woman with the infant has actually
placed her foot on the spring, and so great is the artist's power of
realization, that we momentarily expect to see the horrible thing close
with a snap! A skeleton, whose fleshless skull is masked with a pleasant
female countenance, officiates as barmaid, and behind her yawns a pit,
on the further side of which a circle of evil spirits curvet around a
huge still. Just such a weird scene as would strike a sympathetic chord
in the artist's fancy was found for him in Scott's novel of "Red
Gauntlet." The episode selected for illustration is the frightful
adventure of Hutcheon and Dougal MacCallum. "When midnight came, and the
house was quiet as the grave, the silver whistle sounded as sharp and
shrill as if Sir Robert was blowing it, and up got the two old
serving-men and tottered into the room where the dead man lay. Hutcheon
saw enough at the first glance; for there were torches in the room,
which showed him the foul fiend in his ain shape, sitting on the laird's
coffin! Ower he couped, as if he had been dead. He could not tell how
long he lay in a trance at the door; but when he gathered himself, he
cried on his neighbour, and getting nae answer, raised the house, when
Dougal was found lying dead within twa steps of the bed where his
master's coffin was placed. As for the whistle, it was lost ance and
aye, but mony a time it was heard at the top of the house on the
bartizan and among the auld chimneys and turrets, where the howlets have
their nests." The coffin of the dead laird lies in state on a table
covered with black cloth, richly ornamented with his armorial bearings;
at the foot of the bier stands his black plumed helmet; while atop of
the coffin crouches the grinning ape with the laird's whistle in his
paw; on the ground, as they have been tossed about by the mischievous
beast, lie his rapier, gauntlet, and other military trappings. The
furniture, the fittings, the sombre hangings, the gloomy ancestral
portraits, all are in keeping with the weird scene and its surroundings.
_The Death of Sikes_, and _Fagin in the Condemned Cell_ (especially the
latter) have been described any number of times, and the circumstances,
moreover, under which the latter design was conceived, told invariably
wrong. In the _Murder of Sir Rowland Trenchard_ ["Jack Sheppard"], we
have a Rembrandtish etching, quite equalling in power and intensity that
of _Fagin in the Condemned Cell_. The gloomy depths of the well hole are
illumined only by the pine torch of the frightened Jew, as Wild hammers
with his bludgeon on the fingers of the doomed wretch who, maimed and
faint from loss of blood, clings with desperate tenacity to the
bannister, from which his relaxing grip will presently plunge him into
the black abyss below.

The "Tower of London" introduces us to two scenes of a dismal and
terrible character in the etching entitled _Xit Wedded to the
Scavenger's Daughter_, the artist carries us to a gloomy torture
chamber, dimly lighted by a solitary lantern. On the framework of the
rack sits the dwarf Xit, his limbs compressed in the grip of the
frightful instrument called the "Scavenger's daughter," while Simon
Renard, scarcely able to repress a smile, interrogates the comical
little figure at his leisure. Behind him stands Sorrocold, the surgeon;
and in the farther corner Mauger (the headsman), Nightgall, and an
assistant torturer, recline against the wall. The feeble rays of the
lantern throw an obscure light upon the gloomy walls decorated with the
stock in trade of the torturers, thumb-screws, gauntlets, collars,
pinchers, saws, chains, and other horrible and suggestive implements.
Affixed to the ceiling is a steel pulley, the rope which traverses it
terminating with an iron hook and two leathern shoulder straps. Facing
the gloomy door stands a brazier filled with blazing coals, in which a
huge pair of pinchers are suggestively heating. Reared against the side
of a deep dark recess is a ponderous wheel--broad as that of a wagon,
and twice the circumference; and next it the iron bar with which the
bones of those condemned to die by this most horrible torture were
broken while alive. The etching of _Mauger Sharpening his Axe_ is nearly
as celebrated as that of _Fagin in the Condemned Cell_. "A wonderful
weird dusk, with no light but that which glimmers on the bald scalp of
the hideous headsman, who, feeling the edge of his axe with his thumb,
grins with a devilish foretaste of his pleasure on the morrow. I need
scarcely say that all the poetry, dramatic force, mystery, and terror of
the design is attributable to Cruikshank, and not to Ainsworth."[93]
Scenes still more realistically terrible even than these, such as the
_Massacre at Tullabogue_, _The Rebel Camp on Vinegar Hill_, and the
_Executions at Wexford Bridge_, will be found in Maxwell's "History of
the Irish Rebellion."

Mr. Lockhart, we may remember, advised the artist in the early part of
his career to "think of Hogarth," and throughout the whole of George
Cruikshank's designs of the graver caste the influence of the study of
Rembrandt and of Hogarth will be apparent to those acquainted with the
characteristics of these great artists. In the case of Rembrandt it is
manifest in the deep shadows, penetrated by broad but skilfully treated
rays of light, throwing the salient parts of the design into prominent
but pleasing relief; in the case of Hogarth it is shown in minute
attention to details of a character singularly appropriate to the
designs. Delineators of subjects of greater pretension are frequently
content to throw all their sympathies, their energies, into the
elaboration of their leading figure or figures: the attitude, the face,
the features, the hands, the costume, leave nothing to be desired, while
the rest of the composition is slurred or neglected. This is not the
case with Cruikshank, every part of his work bears witness to his
careful attention to detail; no part of it is elaborated at the expense
of the rest; from the tenants of the room down to the smallest and most
insignificant ornament on the chimney-piece, everything appears as
distinct as it would appear in actual every-day life.

But this study of Rembrandt and of Hogarth, this minute attention to
detail, this careful and conscientious elaboration, would have done
little for George Cruikshank if he had not possessed in an eminent
degree that faculty of creation, otherwise of originality, which men
call _genius_. Various descriptions of this gift have been attempted by
eminent men, but the most felicitous seems to us to be that given by
Robert William Elliston: "A true actor," says this distinguished
comedian, "must possess the power of _creation_, which is _genius_, as
well as the faculty of imitation, which is only _talent_." Substitute
the word "artist" for the word "actor," and the remark will apply with
equal felicity to the subject of our present chapter. It was this same
gift of genius which, whilst it enabled the artist to lend a sentient
expression to such unpromising subjects as a barrel, a wig-block, a jug
of beer, a pair of bellows, or an oyster, imparted to his drawings a
piquancy which has elevated these apparently insignificant designs into
perfectly sterling works of art. The reader who is fortunate enough to
number amongst his books the first half-dozen volumes of "Bentley's
Miscellany" and "Ainsworth's Magazine," "The Omnibus," "The Table Book,"
"The Comic Almanack," possesses a series of designs, drawn and etched by
the hand of the master himself, the value of which is yearly increasing,
not only because they are becoming scarcer and scarcer every day, but
because nothing like them--under the conditions in which book
illustration is now produced--will ever be seen again.


  [85] The "Sketch Book" and "Scraps and Sketches" have recently been
    republished; but the impressions from the sadly worn plates give but
    little idea of the exquisite originals.

  [86] Sala, in _Gentleman's Magazine_, May, 1878.

  [87] Thackeray, _Westminster Review_.

  [88] Thackeray, in the _Westminster Review_, June, 1840.

  [89] This idea of the empty pipe is splendid, there never is any
    tobacco in it; a better notion of absolute forgetfulness--of
    inability to exercise the most trifling effort of memory--could not
    be conveyed.

  [90] "Etching and Etchers."

  [91] Ben Jonson's "The Devil is an Ass."

  [92] This was written, of course, before the recent republication,
    which lacks the colour and crispness of the early issue.

  [93] "British Artists from Hogarth to Turner."


_GEORGE CRUIKSHANK_ (_Continued_).


The artistic career of George Cruikshank presents probably one of the
most singular problems to be met with in the history of satirical art.
It may be divided into three portions, two of which we have already
considered: the first represents that section wherein we have seen him
described by Lockhart as "one of the most careless creatures alive,"
having "no plan, almost no ambition," doing "just what was suggested or
thrown in his way," "quite contented to dine off the proceeds of a
'George the Fourth' to day, and those of a 'Hone' or a 'Cobbett' to
morrow!" the second may be said to be embraced between the years 1822
and 1848, during which period we find this man without plan, ambition,
or industry (to complete the charge of Lockhart), busily engaged in
building up the reputation which the critic had so confidently and so
truly predicted of him; the third and last section, the strangest surely
of all, shows us this man of genius--in the full enjoyment of an assured
and well-merited reputation, in the midst of his artistic vigour, at the
height of a success altogether unexampled--deliberately throwing away
his opportunities, and consigning himself to a slumber of thirty years,
which might almost justify us in terming him the "Rip Van Winkle" of
British art. The causes of this strange decadence, this singular mental
inactivity, which seem to us to have been hitherto very little or at
best very imperfectly understood, we now propose to consider.


Professor Bates, one of the ablest of the essayists who have written on
George Cruikshank since the time when Thackeray penned his famous
article, would have us believe that the causes which led up to his
retirement from active life whilst yet in the enjoyment of his vigorous
intellect, are due partly to the change which has befallen "the
literature of fiction during the last thirty years," but principally to
the fact of his embracing the temperance movement with more zeal than
discretion. As a matter of fact, however, long before this step had been
taken, there had been causes equally potent at work which seem to have
escaped Mr. Bates' attention, and these causes, which appear to us the
leading factors in the unfortunate final result, lay, as we shall
endeavour to explain, in an entirely different direction.

People who knew and judged of George Cruikshank (as the majority of his
contemporaries necessarily did) by his work alone, formed altogether an
erroneous judgment of the character and disposition of the man. Because
his later designs showed or seemed to show a love of little children, a
liking for home and homely subjects, a delight in fairy lore and legend,
it seems therefore to have been assumed that the artist was almost
child-like in simplicity, innocence, and guilelessness of heart. Some
even of those who have written upon him, acting apparently upon this
impression, have given us to understand that "he never raised a laugh at
the expense of decency"; that "satire _never_, in his hands, descended
into scurrility"; that "a moral purpose ever underlaid his humour"; that
"he sought to instruct and improve whenever he amused." The absurdity of
this statement we have already exposed. In reference to a supposed
singleness of heart and honesty of purpose, some writers have termed him
"honest George." All this was very well. We all know, of course, that he
"never pandered to sensuality" or "glorified vice"; but in spite of
these facts, "honest George" himself, so far at least as we personally
know, never assumed or set up, or even aimed at assuming, that he was
one whit better than his neighbours.

In order that the reader may grasp the causes of his sudden decadence,
it is important that he should understand the position and the
peculiarities of the artist. As an illustrator of books he was
dependent on a _clientèle_ composed exclusively of authors and
publishers. "Honest George," however, laboured under a disadvantage
common perhaps more or less to all men possessed of true genius. Hasty
and hot-tempered, particularly in matters connected with his artistic
labours, he was more than usually prone and ready to take offence.
Almost invariably at war with some one or another of his employers, the
story of George Cruikshank's skirmishes and quarrels with the authors
and publishers with whom he was thrown in contact forms a most curious
and interesting chapter in the history of artistic and literary

At the time when Charles Dickens began to write, George Cruikshank had
already achieved his reputation; and so well assured was this
reputation, that the young novelist in his preface to his "Sketches by
Boz," speaks of the nervousness he should have experienced in venturing
_alone_ before the public, and of his delight in securing the
co-operation of an artist so distinguished as George Cruikshank. In
1838, however, the author like the artist had made his mark: "Pickwick"
and "Nicholas Nickleby," and "Oliver Twist" had been written; and every
vestige of the nervousness of which he speaks in the preface to his
"Sketches" had disappeared for ever.

Mr. Sala has somewhere happily remarked that Charles Dickens wanted
rather a scene painter for his novels than a mere illustrator of books,
and the very last person to answer his requirements was George
Cruikshank; for, while ready and willing to execute designs illustrative
of Mr. Dickens's writings, he made it an implied condition of his
retainer, that he should be free to design them in his own way and after
his own fashion. It was an _essential_ condition of George Cruikshank's
success as a draughtsman, not only that he should feel a sympathy for
any subject he was called upon to design, but also that his genius
should be left unfettered and untrammelled in his method of treatment.
Hence it was that he found it impossible to co-operate with so exacting
an employer of artistic labour as Charles Dickens. The latter argued,
with some show of reason, that knowing what he intended to describe, he
was the fittest and most competent person to explain how his meaning
should be pictorially carried out. This sort of arrangement, however,
did not suit the independent and somewhat impracticable spirit of the
artist, and the result was almost a foregone conclusion. These two men
of genius inevitably clashed; and the connection between Charles Dickens
and Cruikshank was abruptly severed.

A singular memorial of the quarrel between Dickens and Cruikshank will
be found in the last illustration to the author's novel of "Oliver
Twist," one of the worst that the artist ever executed. Although Mr.
Forster does not say so--and possibly would not admit it,--Charles
Dickens is directly responsible for this result, as the reader will
agree when he learns the whole of the facts, which are only partly given
in Forster's "Life," and in every other work which professes to tell the

The reader will not require to be told that "Oliver Twist" made its
appearance in the pages of "Bentley's Miscellany." The story of course
had been written in anticipation of the magazine; and according to Mr.
Forster, Cruikshank's designs for the portion which forms the third
volume "having to be executed 'in a lump,' were necessarily done
somewhat hastily." How far this statement is correct, the reader will be
enabled to judge when we tell him that these so-called "hastily"
prepared illustrations include the famous designs of _Sikes and his Dog_
and _Fagin in the Condemned Cell_. "None of these illustrations," Mr.
Forster goes on to tell us, "Dickens had seen until he saw them in the
book on the eve of its publication [we assume in the three-volume form],
when he so strongly objected to one of them that it had to be
cancelled." "My dear Cruikshank," he at once wrote off to the artist, "I
returned suddenly to town yesterday afternoon [October, 1838] to look at
the latter pages of 'Oliver Twist' before it was delivered to the
booksellers, when I saw the majority of the plates for the first time.
With reference to the last one, _Rose Maylie and Oliver_, without
entering into the question of great haste or any other cause which may
have led to its being what it is, I am quite sure there can be little
difference of opinion between us with respect to the result. May I ask
you whether you will object to designing this plate afresh, and doing so
_at once_, in order that as few impressions as possible of the present
one may go forth. I feel confident you know me too well to feel hurt by
this inquiry, and with equal confidence in you, I have lost no time in
preferring it." At this point Mr. Forster leaves the story.


Probably very few of our readers have seen this despised and rejected
plate of _Rose Maylie and Oliver_, for it is not the one which bears
that title among the ordinary illustrations to the novel of "Oliver
Twist." It is very rare, and we wish we could reproduce it here. If not
one of the very best of the series, it is entirely in keeping with the
rest; and so far from displaying "great haste," is in every respect a
carefully finished book etching. Four figures are represented in it as
sitting round the fire, among them the well known form of Oliver, with
his turn-down collar and elaborately brushed hair. On the mantle-shelf,
with other ornaments, are two hyacinths in glasses, thus fixing January
as the date of the scene depicted. It would have been better for the
book if Charles Dickens had left it alone. The artist did as he was
requested, with anger at his heart; and as a consequence, Rose Maylie
will go down to posterity as the ugliest of George Cruikshank's very
ugly women, in an outrageous bonnet, with her hand resting on the
shoulder of a youth wearing the singular coatee or boy's jacket of forty
years ago. Differing altogether from the admirable designs which
preceded it, there is an incongruity about the etching which cannot fail
to impress the observer. The unfortunate letter and still more
unfortunate result occasioned a coolness between the men which was never
wholly removed. From that time forth George Cruikshank executed no more
designs for Charles Dickens, and the illustrations to the long series of
novels which afterwards followed from the pen of the talented but
distinctly autocratic author were entrusted to other hands. However much
this result must be deplored so far as the artist himself is concerned,
the coolness between Charles Dickens and George Cruikshank is scarcely
to be viewed in the light of a misfortune for English illustrative art.
Only consider for one moment what might have followed had the artist
executed the designs to the rest of Dickens's novels! Dick Swiveller
would have suited him, and so would Quilp, or Sampson Brass, the
Yorkshire schoolmaster, Newman Noggs, Lord Frederick Verisopht, Captain
Bunsby, or even Mr. Pecksniff himself; but only fancy, on the other
hand, the _horrors_ which would have been made of Dolly Varden, of Edith
Dombey, of "Little Em'ly," of dear, gentle, loving little Nell! Happily
for the fame of George Cruikshank, his imagination was not called into
requisition for any one of these creations, and like the
"annunciations," the "beatifications," and the "apotheoses" of Lockhart,
they remain (we are thankful to say it) still unrealized!


The quarrel with Dickens was followed by a very bitter and very singular
feud between the artist and Bentley. Into the causes of that quarrel we
need not enter; suffice it to say that to the misunderstanding we owe
some of the very worst etchings which Cruikshank ever designed, the
series of illustrations to Harrison Ainsworth's novel of "Guy Fawkes."
The worst of all is the _Vision of Guy Fawkes at Saint Winifred's Well_,
and a very singular "vision" it is. The saint has all the appearance,
with all the grace, expression, and symmetry of a Dutch doll arrayed in
a pocket handkerchief; the sky is "machine ruled;" the pillars and
tracery of the ruined chapel are architectural impossibilities; while at
the very first snort, the slumbering figure of Guy Fawkes must roll
inevitably into the well towards the brink of which he lies in dangerous
propinquity. These illustrations provoked the ire of the publisher and
the remonstrances of the author, both of which were disregarded with
strict impartiality. In 1842, Harrison Ainsworth retired from the
conduct of the "Miscellany," and set up a rival magazine of somewhat
similar plan and conception, which he christened after his own surname.
This opposition venture appears to have been the result of a
misunderstanding between the editor and publisher, the most serious
outcome of which was, that when Ainsworth left he carried with him
George Cruikshank.

The secession of George caused Mr. Bentley the greatest possible
inconvenience. The straits to which he was reduced may be imagined by
the fact that A. Hervieu (an artist of considerable ability), and the
clever, well-known amateur, Alfred Crowquill (Alfred Henry Forrester),
had to be pressed into the service, and contributed leading etchings.
Meanwhile, the cover of the "Miscellany" showed that George Cruikshank
was nominally retained on the pictorial staff; and before the quality of
his illustrations became so villainously bad that the object he had in
view--that of _forcing_ Bentley to cancel his engagement--had been
attained, a draughtsman of unusual graphic power and versatility had
come to the assistance of the magazine. This was a young man who had
already executed many comic designs of a somewhat novel and original
character, and was already forcing his way to the front: his
name--familiar afterwards "in our mouths as household words"--was John

The "Guy Fawkes" illustrations were the outcome of the first campaign
between Bentley and Cruikshank; and as the history of the quarrel
between the publisher and his unmanageable artist is a somewhat amusing
one, we may be pardoned for describing it at length. The engagement from
which he sought to free himself, and which he stigmatized as "a
one-sided one," obliged Cruikshank to supply Mr. Bentley with at least
one etching every month; and as Bentley continued to advertise him as
the illustrator of the "Miscellany," George commenced the second
campaign by issuing in the opening pages of the opposition venture the
following characteristic manifesto:--"Mr. Bentley, the publisher," says
the indignant George, "evidently wishes to create the supposition that
_I_ illustrate his 'Miscellany.' On the contrary, I wish the public to
understand that I do no such thing. It is true that, according to a
one-sided agreement (of which more may be heard hereafter), I supply a
single etching per month. But I supply _only that single etching_. And
even that can hardly be called my design, since _the subject of it_ is
regularly furnished to me by Mr. Bentley, and I have never even read a
page of any of the stories thus '_illustrated_.'

"Yet Mr. Bentley not only advertises me as the illustrator of his
'Miscellany,' but he has lately shaped his advertisement thus, in the
papers as well as on the wrapper of his magazine: 'Illustrated by Geo.
Cruikshank, etc.' Are his other artists worthy only of being merged in
an etc.? This is, indeed, paying them but a poor compliment; and one
which I should hardly think they would submit to. In certain other
announcements I observe mentioned, in addition to my own name, a
'Cruikshank the Younger.' Who is he? The only Cruikshank the Younger I
ever heard of as a designer, is myself. Would it not be supposed that
there must be a third Cruikshank, etching, drawing, and 'illustrating,'
as his two predecessors have done? Yet there is no such person! There is
indeed a nephew of mine, who, as a _wood-engraver_, and a wood-engraver
_only_, has been employed by Mr. Bentley to engrave 'Crowquill's
designs;' just as in my 'Omnibus' he engraved my own drawings upon wood,
and still does engrave them in 'Ainsworth's Magazine.' Now, can any one
imagine it possible for any respectable publisher, especially 'Her
Majesty's Publisher in Ordinary,' to be guilty of so miserable a trick,
so wretched an expedient, as that of putting off the _engraver_ of a few
of the drawings as the designer himself--as one of the 'illustrators' of
the 'Miscellany'? Let Mr. Bentley but produce a single design for the
'Miscellany,' by 'Cruikshank the Younger' (by him so-called), and I will
retract this indignant disclaimer and apologise. If Mr. Bentley cannot
do this, he stands self-convicted of an attempt to impose upon the
public by a mystification, for purposes as apparent as the trick

What this strange declaration of war proposed to effect is not
altogether manifest; if its author imagined it would produce the result
of releasing him from his engagement, he was signally mistaken, for Mr.
Bentley, as might have been expected, held him all the tighter to the
_letter_ of his bond. What the artist thought and what he did are told
us in the plainest language by the etchings which followed this singular
manifesto. They tell us as plainly as could be expressed in words, that
George reasoned after the following fashion:--"It is clear that under
the terms of my engagement I am bound to supply 'Bentley's Miscellany'
with one etching a month; but our agreement says nothing as to the
_quality_ of the etchings, nor am I bound to see that they shall be
strictly relevant to the subjects which I am called upon to illustrate."
From that time, so long as he continued to design for the "Miscellany,"
George tried to do his worst, and it must be admitted that he succeeded
to admiration. Anything more outrageous than these wretched
drawings--taking into account the talent, power, and skill of the
artist, and the quality of the work which he was at this very time
executing for Harrison Ainsworth--can scarcely be conceived. They are so
ashamed of themselves, that his signature--usually so distinct, so
characteristic, and so clear on other occasions--is illegible, in many
cases wholly wanting. At length, in vol. xiii. (1843) appeared a story
called "The Exile of Louisiana," "with an illustration by George
Cruikshank" (for Bentley, probably by way of retaliation, was determined
the public should know that these performances were due to the hand
which had produced the famous etchings to "Oliver Twist," "Jack
Sheppard," and the contemporaneous story of the "Miser's Daughter"). We
should like to have seen the face of the author when this extraordinary
conception dawned upon him. The tale (a serious and pathetic one) was
burlesqued with one of the most grotesque caricatures the mind of comic
artist ever conceived. It represents Marshal Saxe recognising the widow
of a late Czaaravitch in the gardens of the Tuileries. The marshal, a
most extraordinary personage, would make in actual life the fortune of
any enterprising showman. He possesses a nose of Slawkenbergian
proportions; his pig-tail reaches below his waist; and his sword,
sticking out at right angles, gives him the appearance of a fly with a
pin through its middle. Near him stands a courtier, with ankles of such
fearful and wonderful construction that his legs will snap the moment he
attempts to use them. As for the distinguished relict of the
Czaaravitch, she is one of the most wonderful of the many wonderful
people who figure in the sketch. Her figure is an anatomical
impossibility; while her mouth reaches from ear to ear (the letterpress,
by the way, informs us that her deceased husband had married her for her
beauty!). The statue of Mercury, posed like a scaramouch at a
masquerade, is matched by that of Neptune, who whirls his trident round
his head in a state of the wildest hilarity, cutting at the same time a
caper over the body of an attendant dolphin, who is so overcome with
the whimsicality of the proceeding that he is making the most violent
efforts to restrain his laughter. This last shot probably hit the mark,
for only three etchings appear in vol. xiv., and not one afterwards.
George was victorious; but there are victories and victories, and a
triumph won at the cost of an artistic reputation is as disastrous as a


Harrison Ainsworth's long connection with the artist had taught him that
he was one who would be neither driven nor led, and he was wise enough
to accommodate himself to circumstances. The admirable woodcut design at
the head of that division of the magazine which was known as "Our
Library Table," shows us the artist and the handsome editor in
consultation, and the attitude of the two men is indicative of the fact
that Ainsworth is attentively listening to the advice or suggestions of
his coadjutor, a fact to which Cruikshank himself has been particular to
draw our attention. To the free and unfettered conditions under which
Cruikshank co-operated with Ainsworth we owe a series of the most justly
celebrated and valuable of his designs. In matters, however, connected
with art, Cruikshank was, as we have seen, a difficult man to get on
with, and it was fairly safe to predict that a quarrel between the
author and artist was a mere question of time. The artist remained on
the staff of "Ainsworth's Magazine" for three years, enriching its pages
with some of the choicest efforts of his pencil. At the end of that
period came the unfortunate but almost unavoidable misunderstanding; and
George Cruikshank, as he had done with Bentley, withdrew from the
concern. Unlike Bentley, however, Ainsworth appears not only to have
foreseen, but to have made preparations for the inevitable; and
accordingly, when George Cruikshank retired, his place was immediately
taken by an artist of talent, destined to win for himself a considerable
position among the ranks of designers and etchers: this was Hablot
Knight Browne, then and now known to us under his monosyllabic
_nom-de-guerre_ of _Phiz_.

It seems to us fitting in this place to say a few words on the subject
of George's pretension to be the originator of two of Ainsworth's
stories, because the truth of his assertion has been questioned by a
late commentator.[94] George's statements simply amount to this: that so
far as the illustrations to the "Miser's Daughter" and "The Tower of
London" are concerned, the author wrote up to _his_ designs. We have
considered Ainsworth's answers to this statement, and find that although
he fences with, he does not deny it. It was one essential condition of
Cruikshank's success that his fancy should be free and untrammelled, and
the truth of his statement appears to us to be proved by the
illustrations to these works, which are certainly the finest which he
ever designed; that he was therefore (as he stated) the originator of
these tales in the sense in which he used the word, we can entertain no
manner of doubt.

Most of the Cruikshank commentators, whilst writing on the subject of
the Harrison Ainsworth etchings, have thought fit to decry the author's
share of the performance; but the fact that the pictures are so much
better than the letterpress should not prevent us from dealing fairly
with the veteran author, who, like the distinguished artist with whom he
so long co-operated, has now gone to his rest. Even Mr. Ainsworth's
detractors will, we think, admit that without him we should have lost
the admirable illustrations to "Windsor Castle," "Jack Sheppard," and
"St. James's"; it may even be doubted whether without him we should have
had the still better series of etchings which adorn the "Tower of
London" and the "Miser's Daughter." If this be the fact, it seems to us
we owe a lasting debt of gratitude to this venerable writer, who
experienced the vicissitudes which inevitably befall mere talent when
allied with genius. He was a writer of the George Payne Ransford James
school, dispensing, however, with the inevitable setting sun and two
travellers, and received a price for his productions which many a better
author might well envy. For his novel of "Old St. Paul's" (1841) he was
paid by the proprietors of the _Sunday Times_ one thousand pounds; "The
Miser's Daughter" attained an extraordinary success; and the same remark
applies to "Windsor Castle." For "The Lancashire Witches" he received
from the proprietors of the _Sunday Times_ one thousand pounds. Several
of the works named had not the benefit of Cruikshank's illustrations;
but in 1850-1, cheap editions of all such of Mr. Ainsworth's romances
and tales as had appeared up to that period, were published by Messrs.
Chapman and Hall without any illustrations at all. "Windsor Castle" was
the first of the series, and upwards of thirty thousand copies were
disposed of in a short time; while all the other works enjoyed a very
large sale, and popular favour was so far from being exhausted, that
another edition of his novels was called for in 1864-1868. He was a
veritable literary rolling stone. In 1845 he disposed of his magazine to
the publishers, and purchased the "New Monthly," previously edited by
Theodore Hook and (after his death) by Thomas Hood; in 1854 he bought
the far-famed "Miscellany" itself, becoming its proprietor and editor;
in that year he seems also to have re-purchased "Ainsworth's Magazine,"
which as a separate and rival publication thenceforth ceased to exist.

The only work which Cruikshank illustrated for Charles Lever was "Arthur
O'Leary," and the reason of this has been explained by himself in a
letter which he wrote to Mr. Fitzpatrick, the author of Charles Lever's
life: "I had the honour and the pleasure," he says, "of being personally
acquainted with the late Charles Lever, and I regret that I was only
able to illustrate one of his works, 'Arthur O'Leary,' my engagements on
'Jack Sheppard,' etc., at that time prevented me from illustrating his
other works, which he wished me to have done, but I do not remember ever
having any written correspondence with him, as the MS. or printed matter
was placed in my hands for illustration; and then I had entirely to deal
with the publisher. Mr. Charles Lever was an author whom I held in high
estimation." Lever himself was highly gratified with these


By 1845, that is to say, at least two years before he had taken his
final leap in the dark, Cruikshank had contrived to pick quarrels with
the very class of men whom it was his special interest to conciliate,
and had been driven to set up an opposition serial of his own--the
celebrated "Table Book"--which, notwithstanding the superlative
excellence of his own illustrations and the talent of his literary
contributors, comprising such names as John Oxenford, Horace Mayhew,
Shirley Brooks, Mark Lemon, W. M. Thackeray, and others, could not
manage to prolong its existence beyond its first volume. In matters
connected with his own interests he was not only impracticable, but
seems to have been remarkably destitute of tact and even of discernment.
It cannot be doubted that the estrangement from Bentley was unwise and
impolitic, for as one of the greatest publishers of fiction of the day,
his influence was both far-reaching and comprehensive. In quarrelling
with Dickens, Ainsworth, and Bentley, three of the great artistic
employers of labour of his time, and in face of the growing popularity
of John Leech and Hablot Knight Browne, he was literally quarrelling
with his bread and butter, and few men, even of genius, may afford to do
that. He was essentially impulsive, and frequently acted under the
influence of first impressions. Although fond of his pipe and his glass,
as his famous _Reverie_,--_The Triumph of Cupid_, in the "Table Book,"
will show, he had always evinced a horror of drink, and had, as we have
seen, done his best at various times to expose its insidious and baneful
influences. At last, in 1847, came a sudden and extraordinary impulse of
enthusiasm, under the influence of which he not only produced his
_Bottle_, but laid aside for ever his pipe and his bowl. To do any real
good, he said he must practise what he preached: he joined the
"teetotallers," and not being one of those who did things by halves,
entered heart and soul into the crusade against drink by becoming a
temperance advocate. This last was the one step needed to fill up the
measure of the artist's folly, and to secure for him the reputation of
being an incurably eccentric, self-willed man.

Those who would charge the author with blaming George Cruikshank for
joining the ranks of the teetotallers will do him grave injustice.
Although very much of the opinion of Robert Burton, author of the
"Anatomy of Melancholy," that, "No verses can please men or live long
that are written by water-drinkers," and disposed to undervalue the tact
and discretion of some of the advocates of total abstinence, for its
abstract principles he can say and think nothing but what is good. But
he is writing, be it remembered, of a great artist--one whose mission
was that of an artist, not that of a _temperance orator_,--of one who
had served the righteous and good cause of temperance _best_ when he
remembered that genius had made him an artist and not a temperance
orator,--of one who had rendered that cause yeoman's service long before
he joined the total abstainers, in designing _The Gin Juggernaut_, _The
Gin Trap_, and work of a kindred nature. The cause, too, so far as mere
verbal advocacy was concerned, was better served by men of vastly
inferior mark and ability. Before this fatal plunge was taken his genius
had roamed in an absolutely uncontrolled range of freedom. He had
travelled into the land of chivalry and romance, into the realms of
fairy fancy, magic, and diablery; he had brought back with him pictures
of the wondrous people, lands, and scenes which his fancy had visited.
All this was at an end; this wonderful genius was now forced into a
narrow groove, where it could no longer have the freedom of action which
was essential to its very existence. From the moment that George
Cruikshank turned temperance _orator_, the world of English art lost one
of its brightest ornaments, and he himself both fame and fortune; for,
as Mr. Bates observes, "some of his earliest friends were alienated, and
remunerative work that might have been his was diverted, from sheer
prejudice, into other hands." His style, too, as Mr. Bates further
remarks, "suffered by the contraction of his ideas and sympathies, and
his art became associated with that vulgarity and want of æstheticism
which perhaps necessarily characterizes the movement." _The Bottle_ and
_The Drunkard's Children_, although successful in a pecuniary point of
view--compared with what had gone before,--can scarcely be called _art_
at all; in these too he unconsciously put himself in competition with
Hogarth, and as a matter of necessity failed.

He had been a king among designers and etchers; he had been and was
still an admirable water-colour artist, but knew comparatively little of
the manipulation or management of oils. A new crusade had however to be
preached, to be preached by means of an oil painting; and for this
purpose George was to be inspired off hand (so to speak) with a new art,
and to paint a picture in oils. We know the result--the lamentable
result--in that most preposterous _Worship of Bacchus_. His motive was
good, his ideas were vast, but the _genius_ which in his unregenerate
days had enabled him to design _The Gin Trap_ and the _The Gin
Juggernaut_, was no longer there. Unhappy Rip! There is more
poetry--more fancy--more romance--more art--fire--genius in one of the
little "bits," nine inches by six, executed in the days of his pipe and
his glass, than in any one part or portion of this most gigantic

The mere fact of his joining the ranks of the total abstainers would
have done him perhaps little professional mischief, had he been content
simply to join them, and aid their cause, as he had once so graphically
done by depicting the evils of gin drinking and intemperance; but it was
one of the failings as well as one of the virtues of this impulsive,
earnest man's character, that whatever his hand found to do, "he did it
with his might." Desiring to aid them to the best of his power, he
mistook the means by which that aid might best be applied, and forgot
that his talents lay not in the tongue but in his hand and his head. We
look upon George Cruikshank after 1849, no longer as an artist, but as a
very indifferent temperance lecturer. The reign of Fancy was over.
Thenceforth no "Reveries," no "Jack o' Lanterns," no "Gin Juggernauts,"
would come from that indefatigable hand, that fertile brain, that
wondrous and facile pencil. George Cruikshank took his _Worship of
Bacchus_, and went out into the world (heaven save the mark!) as a
temperance lecturer. His literary abilities were, however, small; he
lacked even that "gentle dulness"[95] which characterizes the leading
advocates of the movement, and kindles a certain amount of sympathetic
enthusiasm in kindred breasts. The dull people who went to hear him,
knew little about and cared less for art and genius than they did for
the abstract doctrines of total abstinence. The result, so far as he
personally was concerned, was curious, lamentable, and almost
instantaneous. The work which had hitherto crowded upon him fell away
like water from a leaking vessel; nay, on the authority of Mr. William
Bates, when work was offered him he refused to take it. "When pressed by
the late Mark Lemon to draw on his own terms for _Punch_," this man who
had designed some of the broadest, coarsest, most personal of the
satires of the nineteenth century, had grown so extremely particular
that "he definitely refused to have anything to do with it on account of
what he termed its personalities."[96] What could be done for such a man
as this? Authors and publishers wholly ceased to employ him; and he was
left without work in the very pride of his artistic career. He turned to
oil painting; was taken by the hand by the influential few who
appreciated, pitied, and loved him; but from the moment that he became a
temperance advocate, to the literary world and to the general public
this most singular and original genius was to all practical intents and

These observations, I repeat, are made in no spirit of hostility to the
sincere and earnest men who would seek to reduce the crime and misery
which owe their origin to the immoderate use of ardent spirits. So far
from this being the case, I hold their cause to be so righteous, so
sensible, that it seems to me as effectually advocated by a plain,
simple, earnest man as by a great artist and man of genius. I say
advisedly, that the cause of temperance had been better served had
Cruikshank stuck to his pencil and his etching needle, instead of
seeking the position of a temperance advocate, and stumping the
provinces with his absurd panorama of _The Worship of Bacchus_.

Thirty years of quite sterling and admirable work were now to be
followed by thirty years of artistic sterility, for from this Rip Van
Winkle slumber of thirty years' duration his reputation never once
awoke. Out of the dreary desert of mental and artistic inactivity came
forth at long distant intervals specimens of his handiwork, which
served, it is true, to remind us of what he once was capable, but failed
to restore him to the place he had for ever lost in public estimation;
such were the illustrations to Angus Bethune Reach's "Clement Lorymer,"
to Robert Brough's "Life of Sir John Falstaff," to Smedley's "Frank
Fairleigh," to George Raymond's "Life and Enterprises of Elliston," to
his own _so-called_ "Fairy Library." Good and excellent as this work
was, it utterly failed to lend even a passing vitality to his departed
reputation, a fact sufficiently and vexatiously proved when he essayed
once more to start a magazine of his own, which met with such little
encouragement that _only two parts were issued_.

Nevertheless, the designs of the "Life of Falstaff" and his own "Fairy
Library" showed that, when the subject took hold of his fancy, the hand
of Cruikshank had not altogether lost the cunning which characterized it
in days of yore. To illustrate the so-called fairy stories, he had to
read them,--no longer, alas! with his former love of fairy lore and
legend,--no longer with the mind of a man free, vigorous, elastic, but
with a mind warped and prejudiced with the study of a theme which was
intellectually depressing and uninspiring. No one knows the origin of
these fairy stories, they come to us from our Danish and Saxon
ancestors, but are interwoven with the literature of every civilized
nation under the sun, and are altogether beyond the sphere of modern
criticism. Their primitive style is singularly adapted to enlist the
sympathies of the little folk to whom they specially address themselves:
their highest aim and object is not to instruct, but to amuse. All this
the artist, in the ardour of his new crusade, lost sight of, and so dead
had he become to the fairy fancies and reveries of his youth, that he
placed sacrilegious hands on these time-honoured and favourite legends
of our childhood, and converted them (with most indifferent literary
ability) into something little better than temperance _tracts_!

But happily not without protest. Charles Dickens, the champion of the
injured fairies, set his lance in rest, and speedily rolled hapless Van
Winkle in the dust. Into the details of this very absurd and very
unequal contest there is no necessity for us to enter. George was at
home with his pencil, his etching needle, or his tubes of water colour;
but put a pen in his hand, and he forthwith would cut the funniest of
capers. He argued (with every appearance of comical gravity and
earnestness), that because Shakespeare might alter an Italian story, or
Sir Walter Scott use history for the purposes of the drama, poetry, or
romance, therefore, "any one might take the liberty of altering a common
fairy story to suit his purpose and convey his opinions." Aye, and so he
might, honest Rip; but he would set about his task in a very different
fashion to Shakespeare or Sir Walter Scott, and I fear too that the
literary results and value would be vastly different. It never seemed to
occur to the mind of the honest but simple casuist that in putting "any
one" on a par with William Shakespeare and Sir Walter Scott, he was
writing simple nonsense.

It is clear, therefore, that the change which had come over the
literature of fiction during the past quarter of a century, and which
Professor Bates would assign as one of the principal causes of the
sterility which befell the genius of Cruikshank, had really very little
to do with it. This calamity--for a national calamity it undoubtedly
was--did not fall upon him, be it remembered, when he was old, but in
the very acme and pride of artistic success. His fall was distinctly due
to causes which were within his own control, and might have been avoided
by the exercise of qualities which (it seems to me) he did not
possess,--forethought, tact, and judgment. During the rest of his long
life, the place which George Cruikshank deliberately ceded to others he
never once regained; when he dropped behind, he became as completely
forgotten as if he had ceased any longer to exist; men whose childhood
he had delighted with his quaint imaginings, his own friends and
contemporaries, died off; and so it came to pass, that before he knew
it, for time moves quickly after youth is over, the old man was left
standing alone amongst the ranks of a generation that did not know him.
So little was he known or regarded, that when his works were _first_
exhibited, no one took the trouble to see them; and when a small circle
of admirers, with the great English critic, John Ruskin, at their head,
started a subscription for the forgotten artist, "the attempt was a
failure--hundreds being received when thousands were expected." It will
be remembered that in his best days the artist had executed a memorable
etching, _Born a Genius and Born a Dwarf_: I wonder whether, in the
bitterness of his spirit and the righteousness of his anger, George
Cruikshank ever thought of that etching?


  [94] Mr. Blanchard Jerrold.

  [95] "And gentle dulness ever loves a joke."--_Dunciad._

  [96] "The Maclise Portrait Gallery," 1883, p. 195.



Decidedly next in order of merit to George Cruikshank, amongst his own
contemporaries, if we except only Theodore Lane, comes Robert Seymour.
With a style and manner peculiar to himself, and a power of invention
and realization which amounted almost to genius, Seymour was superior in
every respect to Robert Cruikshank, with whom we find him not
unfrequently associated in comic design. This style and manner were
clearly founded on those of George Cruikshank; and when he selected (as
he not unfrequently did) subjects which had been treated by the latter,
the work of this most able draughtsman will bear even favourable
comparison with that of the great original whom he chose as his master.
That he drew his inspiration from and sought even to emulate Cruikshank,
is shown by the fact that to some of his earlier caricatures he affixed
the name of "Shortshanks," a practice which he discontinued on receiving
a remonstrance from the irritable George.

Robert Seymour was born in 1798. Henry Seymour, his father, a gentleman
of good family in Somersetshire, meeting with misfortune, removed to
London, and apprenticed him to Mr. Vaughan, a pattern designer of Duke
Street, Smithfield. This Vaughan seems to deserve a passing notice here
by reason of the fact that his father is said to have received proposals
for partnership from the father of the late Sir Robert Peel, which were
rejected, on the ground that the fortunes of the Peel family were not
then considered particularly flourishing. How far this statement may be
correct we know not. Assuming it to be true, the fortunes of the Peel
family afterwards took a turn which probably frequently gave Vaughan
_père_ (if he lived to ruminate thereon) some serious cause for
reflection as well as of repentance.

Like Hogarth, with whom this artist, like all other comic designers, has
been frequently and improperly compared, young Robert Seymour declined
to waste his abilities as a mere mechanical draughtsman, and used his
technical education as a means of cultivating the artistic gifts with
which nature and inclination had endowed him. He seems at first to have
selected a walk in art which required for its ultimate success a larger
amount of application and patience than he could well spare for the
purpose. Shortly after the expiration of his indentures, he started as a
painter in oils, and executed several pictures, one of which (a Biblical
subject) included, it is said, no less than one hundred figures, whilst
a no less ambitious subject than Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered" was
deemed of sufficient merit to be exhibited on the walls of the Royal
Academy. Other pictorial subjects were taken from "Don Quixote,"
"Waverley," "The Tempest," etc., besides which he executed numerous
portraits and miniatures. These efforts, however, do not appear to have
been sufficiently remunerative to encourage him to continue them, and
after a time he resigned them to follow a branch of art more congenial,
perhaps, to his abilities, and thenceforth very rapidly acquired fame as
a social satirist and caricaturist.

The coloured caricatures of Robert Seymour, besides being comparatively
scarce and little known, seem hardly to call for any particular
description; the titles of some of them will be found mentioned in our
Appendix. One which has survived, and with which the public are probably
most familiar, is one of the worst of the series. It is entitled, _Going
it by Steam_, is signed "Short Shanks," and was published by King. Among
rarer and better ones may be named two very excellent specimens, without
date, published by Creed, of Chancery Lane, labelled respectively, _A
Musical Genius_ (a butcher boy playing on the Pandean pipes and
accompanying himself with marrow bone and cleaver), and _A Man of Taste
and Feeling_ (a tramp caught in a trap while helping himself in a
butler's pantry). Among the best of his coloured political caricatures,
we may mention, _Greece and her Rough Lovers_ (_i.e._ Russia and
Turkey), published by Maclean, in 1828. Lithography afforded greater
facilities of execution than the old process, and much of Seymour's work
in political as well as social satire was executed by himself on stone.


The year 1830 brought the life and reign of George the Fourth to a
close. He had been breaking up for a long time past. The first entry of
any moment occurs in Mr. Greville's diary, of 25th August, 1828: "The
king has not been well; he goes fishing and dining at Virginia Water,
stays out late, and catches cold." A year later, the diarist relates
that the king had nearly lost his eyesight, and would be "couched" as
soon as his eyes were in a proper state for the operation. On the 7th of
December he attended a chapter of the Bath, "looked well," but was so
blind that "he could not see to read the list, and begged [Mr. Greville]
to read it for him." The Sangrado treatment was then in full force; and
we find that in January, 1830, the king, being very ill, "lost forty
ounces of blood." He grew at last so much worse that the preparations
for the festivities with which the royal birthday was to have been
celebrated were obliged to be postponed _sine die_. A victim to dropsy,
the operation of puncturing the legs was resorted to, with the result of
giving him temporary relief. The patient, however, became liable to
violent fits of coughing, in one of which he ruptured a blood vessel,
and expired early on the morning of Saturday the 26th of June, 1830.

A more contemptible, selfish, unfeeling being as a _man_ than this king
could scarcely have been found, "a mixture of narrow-mindedness,
selfishness, truckling, blustering, and duplicity, with no object but
self, his own ease, and the gratification of his own fancies and
prejudices."[97] "A more despicable scene," continues Mr. Greville,
"cannot be exhibited than that which the interior of our Court
presents--every base, low, and unmanly propensity, with selfishness,
avarice, and a life of petty intrigue and mystery."[98] George the
Fourth as king and regent was recklessly extravagant, but his
expenditure was always upon self or the gratification of self. A hundred
examples of his selfish nature might be given, but _cui bono_?
Everything he could get hold of, which could minister to his own
personal gratification, he _grasped_ with avidity. In this spirit he
appropriated the jewels and spent on himself the whole of the money
belonging to his late father's estate, amounting to £120,000. His
ministers did not dare to oppose his greed, or tell him that this money
belonged to the Crown, and not to himself as an individual. He acted
precisely in the same manner with regard to his mother's jewels, of
which she possessed a large quantity. Those she received from George
III. she left by will to the king; the rest she gave to her daughters;
in spite of which bequest, her selfish son appropriated the whole to
himself as his own personal private property.


An admirable likeness of this most selfish of royal or private
personages has been drawn by a master hand. "To make a portrait of him,"
says Thackeray, "at first seemed a matter of small difficulty. There is
his coat, his star, his wig, his countenance simpering under it: with a
slate and a piece of chalk, I could at this very desk perform a
recognisable likeness of him. And yet after reading of him in scores of
volumes, hunting him through old magazines and newspapers, having him
here at a ball, there at a public dinner, there at races, and so forth,
you find you have nothing--nothing but a coat and wig, and a mask
smiling below it--nothing but a great simulacrum. His sire and
grandsires were men. One knew what they were like: what they would do in
given circumstances: that on occasion they fought and demeaned
themselves like tough, good soldiers. They had friends whom they liked
according to their natures; enemies whom they hated firmly; passions and
actions and individualities of their own. The sailor king who came after
George was a man; the Duke of York was a man, big, burly, loud, jolly,
cursing, courageous. But this George, what was he? I look through all
his life, and recognise but a bow and a grin. I try and take him to
pieces, and find silk stockings, padding, stays, a coat with frogs and a
fur collar, a star and blue ribbon, a pocket-handkerchief prodigiously
scented, one of Truefitt's best nutty brown wigs reeking with oil, a
set of teeth, and a huge black stock, under-waistcoats, more
under-waistcoats, and then nothing." "Under-waistcoats, more
under-waistcoats--and then nothing!" Yes, there was something besides
the silk stockings--the padding--the stays--the coat with frogs and a
fur collar, the star and the blue ribbon, although there might be
nothing underneath which resembled a heart or which was capable of being
inspired by a feeling which had not its origin in _self_. The wardrobe
of this royal professor of deportment, who ten years before had been
described to his own great personal annoyance as--

  "The dandy of sixty, who bows with a grace,
   And has taste in wigs, collars, cuirasses, and lace,"

was sold on the 2nd of August, 1830, and is said to have been
sufficiently numerous to fill Monmouth Street, and sufficiently various
and splendid for the wardrobe of Drury Lane Theatre. The meanness of his
disposition was exhibited even in the matter of his clothes, scarcely
any of which he gave away except his linen, which was distributed every
year. Here were all the coats which this monarch had had for fifty years
before, three hundred whips, canes without number, every sort of
uniform, the costumes of all the order of Europe, splendid fur pelisses,
hunting coats and breeches; among other etcetera, a dozen pair of
corduroy breeches made to hunt in when Don Miguel was in London. His
profusion in these articles was explained by the fact that he never paid
for them; but his memory in relation to them was nevertheless so
accurate that he recollected every article of dress, no matter how old,
and his pages were liable to be called on at any moment to produce some
particular coat or other article of apparel of years gone by.

The demise of this treasurer of royal antique raiment was followed by an
order for general _mourning_, to which a caricature drawing by Seymour
has reference, the satirical meaning of which will be apparent after the
explanation previously given. A colossal military figure armed with a
baton, on which is inscribed the word "fashion," encounters at dusk, in
Hyde Park, a solitary pedestrian habited in a suit of grey clothing.
"How dare you appear," says the apparition, "without a black coat?" to
which the frightened pedestrian replies, "The _tailor_ would not trust
me, sir." In August, 1830, he gives likenesses of the new king and
queen, William the Fourth and Adelaide, surrounded by a halo of glory.
The new king, in reference to his profession, and by way of obvious
contrast to his predecessor, is subsequently depicted as an anchor
labelled, "England's best bower not _a maker of bows_." From other
contemporary pictorial skits by Seymour we learn that various changes
were made in the royal establishment, and the new queen seems to have
addressed herself specially to a reform in the dresses of the court
domestics. On the 1st of October, 1830, Seymour represents her grinding
an enormous machine, called the "Adelaide Mill," into which the women
servants, dressed in the outrageous head-gear and leg-of-mutton sleeves
of the period, are perforce ascending, and issuing from the other side
attired in plain and more suitable apparel. "No silk gowns," says Her
Majesty as she turns the handle. "No French curls; and I'll have you all
wear aprons." The new queen seems also to have shown a disposition to
encourage native manufactures and produce at the expense of French and
continental importations. These changes were not particularly pleasing
to the Conservative lady patronesses of Almack's, who were celebrated at
this time for their capricious exclusiveness. One of Robert Seymour's
satires, bearing date the 1st of November, 1830, shows us a conference
of these haughty dames, who seriously discuss the propriety of admitting
some lady (probably the queen) who proposed appearing at one of the
balls "in some vulgar stuff made by the _canaille_ at a place called
Kittlefields" [Spitalfields].

  ROBERT SEYMOUR. _October 1st, 1830._


  _Face p. 213._]


Whilst England was thus peacefully passing through the excitement of a
succession to a vacant throne, France was convulsed with one of her
ever-recurring revolutions. Charles the Tenth, driven from his throne,
had been replaced by one who in his turn, some three and twenty years
afterwards, was doomed to give place to the Bonaparte whose sun we
ourselves have seen set in the defeat and disaster of Sedan. We find
portraits in September, 1830, of Louis Philippe, king of the French, of
the queen, General Lafayette, the ex-king Charles the Tenth, and the Duc
d'Angoulème. Besides these, we meet with several clever illustrations by
the artist, on stone, of the stirring events of the time, which are
interesting and valuable specimens of his versatile powers.

Some of our readers may remember a passage in Peter Pindar, where the
merciless satirist ridicules George the Third's German band, telling us
(in allusion to his Majesty's well-known penurious habits) that,
although they displaced native talent and expected "to feast upon the
Coldstream regiments fat," their experience was altogether of another

  "But ah, their knives no veal nor mutton carved!
   To feasts they went indeed, but went and starved!"

The services of these foreign musical mercenaries had been retained by
George the Fourth, but one of the very earliest acts of his successor
was to dismiss them in favour of the guards' bands, "who," however, if
we are to believe Mr. Greville, had no great reason to be thankful, but
were on the contrary "ready to die of it," as they had to play every
night without pay, and were moreover "prevented" from earning money
elsewhere. This act of the new king is referred to in a sketch by
Seymour, which shows us his Majesty in the act of "discharging the
German band," who may be seen marching off headed by their ancient and
crestfallen drum-major.


The month of October, 1830, witnessed the trial of the notorious
impostor, John St. John Long (whose real name was O'Driscoll) for the
manslaughter of Miss Cushin. The success of this ignorant and notorious
quack, who managed for a series of years to extract a magnificent income
of some £10,000 or £12,000 per annum by trading on the credulity of his
fellow-creatures, forms a curious commentary on the weakness of
contemporary "society." It is said that he commenced life as a
house-painter, and afterwards acquired some slight knowledge of art in
the humble capacity of colour grinder to Sir Thomas Lawrence, and while
colouring (on his own account) some anatomical drawings for a medical
London school, picked up a slight and imperfect knowledge of anatomy.
This stimulated him to further superficial research; and after a few
months' probation, his confidence enabled him to pretend that he
possessed a cure for every disease under the sun--more especially

The origin and pretensions of this learned practitioner are thus
referred to in one of the rhymes of the day:--

  "You may talk of your Celsus, Machaons, and Galens,
   Physicians who cured all incurable ailings,
   But ne'er yet was doctor applauded in song
   Like that erudite Phoenix, the great Doctor Long.

   Such astonishing cures he performs, I assure ye,
   Some think him a god--all a _lusus naturæ_:
   The whole animal system, no matter how wrong,
   Is set right in a moment by great Doctor Long.

   Through all regions his vast reputation has flown,
   Through the torrid, the frigid, and temperate zone;
   The wretch, just expiring, springs healthy and strong
   From his bed at one touch of the great Doctor Long.

   His skill to experience, what potentates ran--
   The Pope, the Grand Llama, the King of Japan!
   The great Chinese autocrat, mighty Fon Whong,
   Was cured of the 'doldrums' by famed Doctor Long!

   In each serious case he considers as well as
   Doctor Horace, '_naturam cum furcâ expellas_';
   'Dame Nature' (_i.e._) 'you must poke with a prong.'
   Pretty poking she gets from the great Doctor Long.

   He cures folks _à merveille_, the French people cry;
   The Greeks all pronounce him [Greek: theztagon tz]
   Dutch and Germans adore him; the Irish among,
   'To be sure he's the dandy!' Go bragh, Doctor Long!

   King Chabert has proved, since restored from his panic,
   There's small harm in quaffing pure hydrocyanic;
   But he never found out it was good for the throng,
   When scrubbed on their stomachs by great Doctor Long.

   A machine he's invented, stupendous as new,
   To sweep one's inside as you'd sweep out a flue;
   No climbing boy, urged by the sound of the thong,
   Can brush out your vitals like great Doctor Long.[100]

       *       *       *       *       *

   Garter King has assigned, like a sad 'fleering Jack,'
   A duck for a crest, with the motto, '_Quack, Quack_'
   To the proud name of St. John (it should be _St. Johng_,
   Which would rhyme with the surname of great Doctor Long).

   Great house-painting, sign-painting, face-painting sage!
   Thou Raffaelle of physic!--thou pride of our age!
   Alas! when thou diest, and the bell goes ding-dong,
   Sure Hygeia herself will expire with her Long!

   Then fill every glass, drink in grand coalition,
   _Long life_, _long_ await this _long_-headed physician;
   _Long_, _long_ may Fame sound, with her trumpet and song,
   Through each nation the name of the great Doctor Long!"[101]

"Dr. Long's" remedy ("the prong" referred to in the foregoing ballad)
was of the simplest possible character, and--his dupes in nine cases out
of ten being women--his success complete. He invented a wonderful
liniment or lotion, by means of which he professed to diagnose and
eradicate the virus of consumption. With many patients an inflammation
followed its application, which (according to the quack) discovered the
presence of disease, and which, after a plentiful crop of guineas had
been extracted, nature was allowed to heal: the patient was then
pronounced out of danger. With some persons the liniment was perfectly
innocuous, and when this was the case the patient was informed that no
disease need be feared. The secret of course lay in the fact that the
quack used two liniments, apparently identical, one of which only
contained the irritating medium. Many actually consumptive persons of
course consulted him; but when this was the case he refused his
assistance, on the ground that it had been invoked too late.

He carried the imposition, as might have been anticipated, once too far,
and, in the case of the beautiful and unfortunate Miss Cushin (a lady of
highly nervous temperament), maintained the inflammation for so long a
time that nature for once refused to assist him, and when Sir Benjamin
Brodie was summoned, mortification had already set in. The trial
resulted in a verdict of guilty, but the judge (Baron Parke), who summed
up scandalously in his favour, instead of sending the fellow to hard
labour, imposed a fine of £250, which was immediately paid.

Seymour alludes to this event in a pictorial satire, in which he shows
us St. John Long, with a vulture's head and beak, kneeling on the floor
of a dungeon with a bottle by his side labelled "lotion," and (beneath)
the words,--"Lost, £12,000 per annum, _medical practice_. Whoever will
restore the same to Mr. St. J. L--g, shall receive the benefit of his

Miss Cushin's death was quickly followed by another fatal case, that of
Mrs. Colin Campbell Lloyd, who also died from the effects of the
corrosive lotion, and St. John Long the following year was again put on
his trial for manslaughter; in this case the fellow was acquitted.
Seymour's prediction was not destined to be verified. The _soi-disant_
St. John Long, _alias_ O'Driscoll, in spite of these "mistakes," which
in our day would receive a harsher term, retained his large "practice"
to the last, and died--still a young man--of the very disease to which
he professed to be superior, thus conclusively proving better than
anything else could have done the utter impotency of his preparation.

Anstey (son of the once celebrated author of the "New Bath Guide")
amusingly describes the administration of an oath to a witness in a
court of law:--

  "Here, Simon, you shall (silence there!)
   The truth and all the truth declare,
   And nothing but the truth be willing
   To speak, so help you G--d (a shilling)."[102]

The artist possibly had this quotation in his mind when he designed the
following:--The deponent is a country bumpkin, to whom an official
tenders the Testament, at the same time extending his disengaged palm.
"Pleas zur," says Hodge, "wot be I to zay?" (To him the officer), "Say,
This is the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God one and

The open and notorious bribery, corruption, and intimidation which
prevailed in those days at parliamentary elections; Sir Robert Peel's
"New Police Act" (which was received with extraordinary suspicion and
dislike); the Reform Bill; the universal distress and consequent bread
riots of 1830-31, form the subjects of other pictorial satires by Robert
Seymour, which seem, however, to call for little notice.

The artist's talent and services were constantly in demand as a designer
on wood; but finding that the productions of his pencil suffered at the
hands of the wood-engravers to whom they were entrusted, and the very
inferior paper upon which the impressions were taken, he, in or about
the year 1827, began to learn the art of etching on copper. We believe
his earliest attempts in this direction will be found in a work now
exceedingly rare, bearing the title of "Assisting, Resisting, and
Desisting." A volume called "Vagaries, in Quest of the Wild and
Wonderful," which appeared in 1827, was embellished with six clever
plates after the manner of George Cruikshank, and ran through no less
than three editions.

The "Humorous Sketches," several times republished, perhaps the only
work by which Seymour is now known to the general public, appeared
between the years 1834 and 1836. They were first published at threepence
each by Richard Carlisle, of Fleet Street, who is said to have paid the
artist fifteen shillings for each drawing on the stone. Carlisle falling
into difficulties shortly before Seymour's death, sold the copyright and
lithographic stones to Henry Wallis, who in turn parted with the latter
to Mr. Tregear, of Cheapside, but retaining his property in the
copyright, transferred the drawings to steel, and published them in
1838, with letterpress by Alfred Crowquill. Mr. Henry G. Bohn issued an
edition in 1842, and another some twenty-three years later, with plates
so sadly worn and blurred by over use that the best part of this last
edition (issued by the Routledges in 1878) is the binding.

The "Humorous Sketches" (we refer, of course, only to the early
impressions), although affording fair examples of the artist's comic
style and manner, are in truth of very unequal merit. They comprise some
eighty subjects, which, owing to the frequent republications, are so
well known that it would be superfluous to attempt a detailed
description of them here. The best is unquestionably the one numbered
XXV., "This is a werry lonely spot, Sir; I wonder you arn't afeard of
being rob'd." The inevitable sequel is amusingly related by Crowquill:--

  "Poor Timmins trembled as he gazed
     Upon the stranger's face;
   For cut-purse! robber! all too plain,
     His eye could therein trace.

   'Them's werry handsome boots o' yourn,'
     The ruffian smiling cried;
   'Jist draw your trotters out, my pal,
     And we'll swop tiles beside.

   That coat, too, is a pretty fit,--
     Don't tremble so--for I
   Vont rob you of a single fish,
     I've other fish to fry.'"

The "Sketches," with other detached works by the artist, reappeared in
an edition published by the late John Camden Hotten, entitled "Sketches
by Seymour," comprising in all 186 subjects, for the most part sadly
worn impressions. Although there is nothing whatever "Hogarthian" about
the originals, as the amiable publisher would have us (as usual)
believe, we may admit that the faces in No. 24, _At a Concert_, are a
perfect study, and that this sketch, with Nos. 45 and 46 (_Snuffing_ and
_Smoking_), afford excellent examples of the artist's ability as a


But the work which contains probably some of the best specimens of the
artist's style is one now exceedingly scarce. Christmas books, like
Christmas cards, are practically unsaleable after the great Christian
festival has come and gone; and this was the experience of Mr. T. K.
Hervey's "Book of Christmas," which, owing to the author's dilatoriness,
came out "a day after the fair," and despite its attractions proved
unmarketable. This circumstance, we need not say, by no means detracts
from its value, and as a matter of fact, the collector will now deem
himself fortunate if he succeeds in securing a copy at a price exceeding
by one half the original cost. Those who have formed their ideas of
Seymour's powers from the oft republished and irretrievably damaged
impressions of the "Humorous Sketches," will be astonished at the
unaccustomed style, vigour, and beauty of these illustrations. A few of
the earlier _etchings_ are somewhat faint and indistinct, as if the
artist, even at that time, was scarcely accustomed to work on copper.
They, however, improve as he proceeds with his work; the larger number
are really beautiful, and are characterised by a vigour of conception
and execution, of which no possible idea can be formed by those who have
seen only the "Humorous Sketches." Noteworthy among the illustrations
may be mentioned the finely executed head of _Old Christmas_, facing
page 23; the _Baronial Hall_ (a picture highly realistic of the
Christmas comfort and good cheer which is little better than a myth to
many of us); _The Mummers_; _Christmas Pantomime_; _Market, Christmas
Eve_; _Boxing Day_; and _Twelfth Night in the London Streets_. The
cheery seasonable book shows us the _Norfolk Coach_ with its spanking
team rattling into London on a foggy Christmas Eve, heaped with fat
turkeys, poultry, Christmas hampers and parcels. William Congreve tells

  "Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast,
    To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak."

The irritable personage awoke from his slumbers by the music of the
waits, certainly does not belong to any of the order of animate or
inanimate subjects so softened, soothed, or bent, as aforesaid, for he
opens his window and prepares to discharge the contents of his jug on
the heads of the devoted minstrels. If the ancient ophicleide player,
with the brandy bottle protruding from his great coat pocket, might but
know of the impending cataract which more immediately threatens himself,
he would convey himself from the dangerous neighbourhood with all the
alacrity of which his spindle shanks are capable. A younger neighbour on
the opposite side of the street awaits the catastrophe with amused
interest, whilst a drunken "unfortunate" executes--under the elevating
influences of music and drink--a _pas seul_ on the pavement below. In
the etching of _Story Telling_, the deep shadows of an old baronial hall
are illuminated solely by the moonbeams and the flickering flame of the
firelight; a door opens into a gallery beyond, and one of the listeners,
fascinated by the ghost story to which she is listening, glances
fearfully over her shoulder as if apprehensive that something uncanny
will presently issue out of the black recesses. The ghostly surroundings
have their influences on the very cat, who looks uneasily about her as
if afraid of her shadow. Besides the thirty-six etchings on copper, the
book contains several charming woodcuts, impressed on paper of a very
different quality to that on which the artist was accustomed to behold
impressions from his wood blocks.

Of a class entirely different to the foregoing may be mentioned the
still rarer series of comicalities executed by the artist under the
title of "New Readings of old Authors," of which we may notice the
following: _Moved in Good Time_ (_Taming of the Shrew_, Act 2, Sc. 1), a
tax-gatherer and other creditors bemoaning themselves outside the
premises of a levanted debtor; _I am to get a man, whate'er he be_ (Act
3, Sc. 2), disciples of Burke and Hare providing themselves with a
living subject; _I do remember when the fight was done, when I was dry_
(King Henry IV., Part 1, Act 1, Sc. 3), a victorious prize-fighter
recruiting his exhausted frame by imbibing many quarts of strong ale;
_He was much Feared by his Physicians_ (Act 4, Sc. 1), an irascible
gouty patient flinging medicine bottles and nostrums at one of his
doctors, and stamping a prostrate one under foot; _You are too great to
be by me gainsaid_ (_King Henry_ IV., Part 2, Act 1, Sc. 1), a huge
woman administering chastisement to a small and probably (in more senses
than one) _frail_ husband; _My Lord, I over rode him on the way_ (Act 1,
Sc. 1), a miserable huntsman who has ridden over and killed one of the
master's fox-hounds; _He came, saw, and overcame_ (Act 4, Sc. 2), a
wretched Frenchman, who, overbalancing himself, falls over the rails of
a bear-pit amongst the hungry animals below; _Never was such a sudden
scholar made_, (_King Henry_ V., Act 1, Sc. 1), in allusion to the
installation of the Duke of Wellington as Chancellor of Oxford
University; _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, a fat sleeper suffering under
the agonies of nightmare, under the influence of whose delusion he
fancies himself roasting before a vast fire, with a huge hook stuck
through his stomach; and, _I beg the ancient privilege of Athens: as she
is mine, I may dispose of her_ (Act 1, Sc. 1), an Englishman attempting
to dispose of his ugly, wooden-legged old harridan of a wife by auction.
The lithographic stones on which the drawings to these "New Readings"
were made, and which comprised no less than three hundred drawings, were
effaced before the artist's death, and impressions from them are now, of
course, more than difficult to procure. The Shakespeare series were
collected and republished in four volumes, in 1841-2, by Tilt & Bogue,
of Fleet Street, and even these last are very seldom met with.

On the 10th of December, 1831, there started into life a periodical of
decidedly pronounced political bias and opinions, entitled "Figaro in
London." Politics ran high in those days; it was the time of the great
agitation for "reform," which in those days, as we shall presently see,
was both loudly called for and imperatively necessary. A mob of boys and
degraded women had taken complete possession of Bristol,--had driven its
deformed little mayor over a stone wall in ignominious flight,--had
burnt down the gaol and the mansion-house, and laid Queen Square in
ashes, whilst the military and its very strangely incompetent officer
looked on while the city was burning.[103] Every one in those days was
either a rabid Tory or an ultra Radical. It was just the period for an
enthusiastic youth to plunge into the excitement of political life; but
the crude, unformed opinions of a young man scarcely of age are of
little value, and the political creed of the proprietor and originator
of this literary (?) venture does not appear to have been clearly
defined even to himself. In his valedictory addresses written three
years afterwards, when things were not altogether so rosy with him as
when he started his periodical, he confesses that he belongs to no
party, for "we have had," he says, "such a thorough sickener of the
Whigs, that we do expect something better from the new government,
_although it be a Tory one_."

The price of "Figaro in London," one of the immediate predecessors of
the comic publications of our day, was a penny, quite an experiment in
times when the price of paper was dear, and periodical literature was
heavily handicapped with an absurdly heavy duty. "Figaro" consisted of
four weekly pages of letterpress illustrated by Robert Seymour. The
projector, proprietor, and editor, was Mr. Gilbert à Beckett, whose
name--with those of men of vastly superior literary attainments--was
associated in after years with the early fortunes of _Punch_. The
literary part of the performance was indeed sorry stuff,--the main stay
and prop of the paper from its very commencement was Seymour, whose
drawings however suffered severely at the hands of the engraver and
paper maker. An eccentricity of the publication perhaps deserves notice.
It professed to look with sovereign contempt upon advertisements, as
occupying a quantity of unnecessary space--considering, however, that
exception was made in favour of one particularly persevering hatter of
the period, we are driven to the conclusion that the projector's
contempt for a source of revenue which modern newspaper proprietors can
by no means afford to despise, was nearly akin to that expressed by the
fox after he had come to the melancholy conclusion that the grapes he
longed for were absolutely beyond his reach.

The new periodical assumed from the outset a position which cannot fail
to amuse the journalist and reader of the present day. It professed to
look down upon all other publications (with certain exceptions of
magnitude, whom the editor deemed it prudent to conciliate) with
supercilious contempt. The absurdity of these pretensions will strike
any one who turns over its forgotten pages, and compares his pretensions
with Mr. à Beckett's own share of the performance. The mode in which
this young gentleman's editorial duties were conducted, gathered from
extracts taken at random from the "Notices to Correspondents," were, to
say the least, peculiar: "A. B., who has written to us, is a fool of the
very lowest order. His communication is rejected." Poor Mr. Cox of Bath
is told he "is a rogue and a fool for sending us a letter without paying
the postage. If he wants his title page, let him order it of his
bookseller, when it will be got as a matter of course from our
publisher," and so on. The aristocracy are regarded with a disfavour
which must have given them serious disquietude. The "coming out" of the
daughter of the late Lord Byron, or a _soirée_ at the Duchess of
Northumberland's town house, serve as occasions for indulging in
splenetic abuse of what Mr. à Beckett was pleased to term "the beastly
aristocracy." Authors, even of position, were not spared by this young
Ishmael of the press, the respected Mrs. Trollope, for instance, being
unceremoniously referred to as "Mother Trollope." The only excuse of
course for this sort of thing is to be found in the fact that comic
journalism being then in its infancy, personal abuse was mistaken for
satire; while, so far as the bad taste of the editor is concerned,
allowance must be made for an inexperienced young man who imagined that
the editorship of a paper, wholly destitute of merit except that which
Seymour brought to its aid, conferred upon himself a position which
rendered him superior to the rules of literary courtesy.

With all these pretensions, however, à Beckett was conscious of the
powerful assistance he was receiving from the artist; and we find him,
after his own peculiar fashion and more than questionable taste,
constantly alluding to the fact; describing him at various times as
"that highly gifted and popular artist, Mr. Seymour;" "our illustrious
artist Seymour;" and so on. In the preface to his second volume, he
indulges in the following flight of fancy, which will suffice to give us
an idea of the literary merits of the editor himself: "In this our
annual address," he says, "we cannot omit a puff for the rampant
Seymour, in whom the public continue to _see-more_ and more every time
he puts his pencil to the block for the illustration of our periodical."
This was the sort of stuff which passed for wit in 1832.[104] As for
Seymour himself, he was annoyed at these fulsome and foolish
compliments, and in a letter which he wrote to À Beckett after the
quarrel to be presently related, told him in the plainest terms that,
"the engraving, bad printing, and extravagant puffing of his designs
were calculated to do him more harm than good as an artist."

But artist and editor jogged on together in perfect good will until the
16th of August, 1834, when, for the first and only time, "Figaro in
London" made its appearance without any illustrations at all. The two
succeeding weekly issues contained each a single woodcut after Seymour's
drawing, but from that time until the end of the year, when À Beckett
himself retired from the proprietorship and disposed of his interest in
the concern, the paper was illustrated by Isaac Robert Cruikshank; this
change was due to the following circumstance.

A special feature of "Figaro in London" was its theatrical leader. À
Beckett had always taken an interest in dramatic matters, and was
himself author of some thirty plays, the very titles of which are now
forgotten. Not content with being proprietor and editor of a newspaper,
he was concerned at this time in another venture, being proprietor and
manager of a theatre in Tottenham Court Road, known at different times
under the various designations of the Tottenham Street or West London
Theatre, the Queen's, and latterly as the Prince of Wales' Theatre. The
result was almost a foregone conclusion. A newspaper is a sufficiently
hazardous speculation, but a theatre in the hands of an inexperienced
manager is one of the most risky of all possible experiments; and the
result in this case was so unfortunate, that À Beckett in the end had to
seek the uncomfortable protection of the insolvent court. He was
considerably indebted to Seymour for the illustrations to "Figaro," half
of the debt thus incurred being money actually paid away by the artist
to the engraver who executed the cuts from his drawings on the wood.
Finding that À Beckett was in no position to discharge this debt or to
remunerate him for his future services, Seymour did--what every man of
business must have done who, like the artist, was dependent on his
pencil for _bread_, refused any longer to continue his assistance. Apart
from the bad paper and bad impressions of which he complained, and above
all the bad taste displayed in fulsome adulation of his own merits,
supremely distasteful to a man of real ability, Seymour appears hitherto
to have entertained no bad feeling towards À Beckett personally.

The result however was a feud. À Beckett was not unnaturally angry, and
an angry man in his passion is apt to lose both his head and his memory.
Forgetting the manner in which he had shortly before acknowledged the
services and talent of the artist, he now attacked him and his abilities
with a malice which would be unintelligible if we had not seen something
of his nature and disposition. In his favourite "Notices to
Correspondents" in the number of 13th September, 1834, he professes to
account for the employment of Isaac Robert Cruikshank after the
following disingenuous fashion: "Mr. Seymour, our ex-artist, is much to
be pitied for his extreme anguish at our having come to terms with the
celebrated Robert Cruikshank in the supplying the designs of the
caricatures in 'Figaro.' Seymour has been venting his rage in a manner
as pointless as it is splenetic, and we are sorry for him. He ought,
however, to feel, that notwithstanding our friendly wish to bring him
forward, which we have done in an eminent degree, we must engage
_first-rate_ ability when public patronage is bestowed so liberally, as
it now is upon this periodical. He ought therefore not to be nettled at
our having obtained a superior artist." The public, however, were not to
be _gulled_; they perfectly well knew that Isaac Robert Cruikshank was
an inferior artist in every respect to Seymour, and had not forgotten
the tribute which the foolish editor had previously paid to the talents
and ability of the latter. Conduct like this could only recoil on the
head of the person who was injudicious and spiteful enough to be guilty
of it. The "Notices to Correspondents" in subsequent numbers continued
to be filled with references and allusions to Seymour, dictated by a
malice which was alike silly and childish. They are not worthy of
repetition here, and we must refer the reader for them to the numbers of
"Figaro in London" of 20th September and 15th November, 1834, or (if he
have not access to its pages) to the short biographical notice prefixed
to the latest edition of the "Sketches" by Mr. Henry G. Bohn. We have no
doubt whatever that the interval between these dates was employed in
fruitless endeavours on the part of À Beckett to arrange terms with the
artist, who, however, steadily refused to give the failing publication
the indispensable benefit of his assistance. Left as it were to its own
resources, the circulation, in spite of the graphic help accorded by
Robert Cruikshank, steadily declined, and À Beckett finally retired from
the editorship and proprietorship on the 27th of December, 1834. Seymour
wielded a far more effectual weapon of offence than any which À Beckett
possessed, and dealt him blows which at this time and in his then
circumstances must have been keenly felt. One of Seymour's satires is
aimed specially at the "Notices to Correspondents" already mentioned,
and shows us a heavy, vulgar fellow seated at his desk, habited in a
barber's striped dressing-gown _à la Figaro_. His features are distorted
with passion, for he has received a letter the contents of which are
anything but flattering, addressed "To the Editor of the nastiest thing
in London." This sketch bears the following descriptive title: "An
editor in a _small way_, after pretending a great deal about his
correspondents, is here supposed to have received _a_ letter." A second
skit shows us a critic examining a picture representing "the death of À
Beckett, Archbishop of Cant." A figure in armour, with its vizor down
(obviously intended for the artist) is depicted in the act of cutting at
the "archbishop" with a sword, the blade of which is inscribed "debts
due." His first blow has severed the mitre labelled "assumption," and
the pastoral staff, inscribed "impudence," with which the victim vainly
endeavours to defend himself. "Don't," says À Beckett, as he falls
prostrate amid a heap of "spoilt paper," among which we recognise,
"Figaro," "The Thief," "The Wag," and other periodicals with which his
name was associated. "Don't cut at me 'our own inimitable, our
illustrious, our talented;' pray don't give me any more cuts; think how
many I have had and not paid you for already:" a hand indicates the way
"to the Insolvent Court."

"Figaro," after the retirement of À Beckett, passed into the editorial
hands of Mr. H. Mayhew, and conscious of the injury which the defection
of Seymour had done to the undertaking, he lost no time in opening
negotiations with a view to his return. In this he experienced little
difficulty, for Seymour was glad to avail himself of the opportunity of
giving to the public the most convincing proof which could have been
adduced of the falsity of the libels which had been published by the
retiring and discomfited editor. The fourth volume commenced 3rd of
January, and from that time until his death (in 1836) he continued to
illustrate the paper. Mayhew announces his return after the following
curious fashion: "The generous Seymour, with a patriotic ardour
unequalled since the days of Curtius, has abandoned all selfish
considerations, and yielded to our request for his country's sake. Again
he wields the satiric pencil, and corruption trembles to its very base.
His first peace-offering to 'Figaro in London,' is the rich etching
[woodcut] our readers now gaze upon with laughing eyes." Constant
references of a laudatory kind are made to him in succeeding numbers.

The woodcuts after Seymour's designs, which appear in "Figaro in
London," are too small and unimportant to justify the title which the
editor gives them of "caricatures;" and relating to political matters
which at that time were far more efficiently chronicled by the pencil of
H. B., they have lost any interest which they once might have commanded.
The most interesting illustrations which Seymour contributed to
"Figaro," are the brief series of theatrical portraits, which are not
only clever but evidently excellent likenesses.

It was not only in the case of "Figaro in London" that the slanders of À
Beckett recoiled upon his own head. That gentleman in 1832 had started a
sort of rival to Hood's "Comic Annual," under the title of the "Comic
Magazine." It was cheaper in price than the former publication, and
contained an amazing number of amusing cuts of the punning order, after
Seymour's designs. After the quarrel with À Beckett, the artist withdrew
his assistance from its pages, and the illustrations show a fearful
falling off after 1833. Many of the wretched designs which follow bear
the signature of "Dank," and so destitute are they of merit that the
"embellishments" (as they are termed) for 1834, are altogether below

At the opening of the present chapter we said that Robert Seymour was
_almost_ a genius. Genius, however, he never absolutely touched; he was
destitute of the inventive faculties which distinguished John Leech, and
lacked the vivid imagination which enabled George Cruikshank to realize
any idea which occurred to him, whether comical, grave, realistic, or
terrible. His talents as an artist, though undoubtedly great, ran in a
narrow groove, and their bent is shown by the well-known "Humorous
Sketches," and the less known but far more admirable designs which he
executed for the "Comic Magazine." He always had a fancy for depicting
and satirizing cockneys and cockney subjects, and had conceived the by
no means new or ambitious idea of producing a series of such pictures
with an appropriate letterpress to be furnished by a literary coadjutor,
whose work, however, was to be subservient to his own. The idea was not
perhaps a very definite one, but the pictorial part of the work was
commenced, and four plates actually etched at the time the artist was
retained to execute the illustrations to the "Book of Christmas." Out
of this undeveloped idea, and out of the four apparently unimportant
drawings to which we have alluded, was destined to evolve the strange
and melancholy story which will be associated for all time with the
mirth-inspiring novel of the "Pickwick Papers."


The difficulty at the outset was to find an author to carry out the
artist's idea, indefinite as it was. In this direction there was in
1836, a very _embarras de richesses_, for, if comic artists were few,
there was on the other hand no lack of humourists of the highest order
of merit. Theodore Hook, Clark (the author of "Three Courses and a
Dessert")--probably many others were suggested by the publishers who
were taken into consultation by Seymour; but all were rejected. He
himself seems to have inclined towards Mayhew, with whom it will be
recollected he was associated at this time on "Figaro in London." The
man of all others most fitted to carry out the artist's _own_ idea seems
to us to have been John Poole, one of the most original of English
humourists, whose productions, now forgotten, are worth searching for in
the pages of the "New Monthly" and other periodical publications of a
past day. It is a singular fact, too, that on the first appearance of
the "Pickwick Papers," the authorship was by many ascribed to this very
man. In the end, Mr. Chapman, of the firm of Chapman & Hall, introduced
the artist to one of the most unlikely men for his own purpose that
could possibly have been selected,--the man, as we have already seen, of
all others the least fitted and the least disposed to act the part of
William Coombe to Seymour's character of Thomas Rowlandson.

At this time Charles Dickens was reporter on the staff of a newspaper;
he had written a book which, although successful, had created no very
intense excitement; he was moreover a young man, and consequently
plastic, and fifteen pounds a month would be a small fortune to him; so
at least argued the artist and his friends. How little they understood
the resolute, self-reliant character of this unknown writer! The result
was altogether different from anything they expected. Author and artist
differed at the outset as to the form the narrative should take; but the
man with the strongest power of mind and will took his stand from the
first, and Charles Dickens made it a condition of his retainer that the
illustrations should grow out of the text, instead of the latter being
suggested (as Seymour desired) by the illustrations, and the artist had
reluctantly to give way. No one can doubt that the author was right. By
way however of a concession, and of meeting Seymour's original idea as
far as practicable, he introduced the absurd character of Winkle, the
cockney sportsman. The mode of publication followed was the artist's own
suggestion, who, desiring the widest possible circulation, insisted on
the work being published in monthly numbers at a shilling. Thus it was
that "Pickwick" came to be written.

We are not called on in this place to discuss the merits of "Pickwick";
to compare Charles Dickens with the writers who had immediately preceded
him; to enlarge upon the comic vein which he discovered and made so
peculiarly his own; to show the influence which his humour exercised
upon the literature of the next quarter of a century; to contrast such
humour with his wonderful power of pathos; to marshal the shades of
true-hearted, noble Nell, unhappy Smike, little Paul Dombey, world
abandoned Joe, and compare them with the Wellers--father and son, Mr.
Jingle, Tracy Tupman, Bob Sawyer, and the spectacled but essentially
owlish founder of the "Pickwick Club." All this we fancy has been done
in another place; our task is altogether of a simpler character. We have
to trace the connection which subsisted between the artist and author;
to show how this book--the creation of a writer in the spring-time of
his genius--the essence of fun, the unfailing source of merriment to
countless readers past, present, and to come, came to be associated with
the memory of a terrible and still incomprehensible tragedy.

We have seen that, contrary to his own wishes, Seymour had yielded to
Charles Dickens' suggestion, or rather condition, that the illustrations
should grow out of the text; but he does not seem to have abandoned (so
far as we can judge) all idea of having a hand in the management of the
story, and he never for one instant contemplated interference on the
part of the author with any one of his own designs. If we are to believe
his friends (and their testimony seems to us distinctly valuable in
this place), he was extremely angry at the introduction into the plot of
the "Stroller's Tale," and we may therefore fancy the spirit in which he
would receive Charles Dickens' intimation, conveyed to him in the same
manner that he afterwards communicated to Cruikshank his disapproval of
the last etching in "Oliver Twist," that he objected to that etching "as
not quite _his_ [Dickens'] idea;" that he wished "to have it as complete
as possible, and would feel personally obliged if he would make another
drawing." The letter (on the whole a kindly one) has been set out
elsewhere,[105] and there is no occasion to repeat it here. What other
causes of irritation existed will never be known. All that is still
known is, that he executed a fresh design and handed it over to Dickens
at the time appointed; that he went home and destroyed nearly all the
correspondence relating to the subject of "Pickwick"; that he executed a
drawing for a wood-engraver named John Jackson,[106] and delivered it
himself on the evening of the 20th of April, 1836; that he then returned
to his house in King Street, Islington, and committed self-destruction.
He left behind him an unfinished drawing for "Figaro in London," which
afterwards appeared (in the state in which it was found) in the pages of
that periodical.

Various reasons have been assigned for this rash act, all more or less
contradictory. According to some he was a man of equable temperament;
while others, who knew him personally, have told us that he was nervous
and subject to terrible fits of depression. Some would trace the act to
his quarrel with À Beckett; but this is simply absurd, seeing that it
had occurred some two years before. We need not, as it seems to us,
travel out of our course to seek the real cause, which was probably due
to over-work. His energies had been tasked to the utmost to keep pace
with the supply which his ever-increasing popularity brought him. The
state of his mind appears to us clearly indicated by his design of _The
Dying Clown_, one of the last drawings which he etched for the "Pickwick
Papers," and for which we must refer the reader to the _original_
edition only; anything more truly melancholy we can scarcely imagine.
Entirely appropriate to the story, it seems to tell its own tale of the
morbid state of mind of the man who designed it; it is a pictorial
commentary on the sad story we have attempted to tell.

  ROBERT SEYMOUR. "_Pickwick Papers._"


  _Face p. 233._]

A too zealous application to work has destroyed many men both of talent
and genius; it produces different effects in different individuals,
according to their respective temperaments: while it drove Robert
Seymour to frenzy, it killed John Leech--a man of far finer imaginative
faculties--with the terrible pangs of _angina pectoris_. Differently
endowed as they were, both belonged to the order of men so touchingly
described by _Manfred_:--

                 "There is an order
  Of mortals on the earth, who do become
  Old in their youth, and die ere middle age
  Without the violence of warlike death;
  Some perishing of pleasure, some of study,
  Some worn with toil, some of mere weariness,
  Some of disease, and some insanity,
  And some of wither'd or of broken hearts;
  For this last is a malady which slays
  More than are numbered in the lists of fate."[107]

The coadjutorship of distinguished artists and authors has led to more
than one strange controversy. Those who have read Forster's "Life of
Dickens" will remember the curious claim which George Cruikshank
preferred after Dickens' death to be the suggester of the story of
"Oliver Twist," and the unceremonious mode in which Mr. Forster disposed
of that pretension. We have referred elsewhere to the edifying
controversy between George Cruikshank and Harrison Ainsworth, in
relation to the origin of the latter's novels of the "Miser's Daughter"
and "The Tower of London." The republication of Seymour's "Humorous
Sketches" in 1866, led to a very curious claim on the part of his
friends, in which they sought to establish the fact that he was the
originator and inventor of the incidents of "Pickwick." This claim
happily was made while Dickens was yet alive, and was very promptly and
satisfactorily disposed of by himself in a letter which he wrote to the
_Athenæum_ on the 20th of March, 1866. Author and artist have long since
gone to their rest; and the plan which the author of this work proposed
when he sat down to write the story of Robert Seymour, was to place that
artist in the position which he believes him to occupy in the ranks of
British graphic humourists, and not to rake up or revive the memory of a
somewhat painful controversy. Of the claim itself we would simply
remark, that not only was it made in all sincerity by those who loved
and cherished the memory of Robert Seymour, but that to a certain extent
the claim has a foundation of fact to rest upon; for who will deny that
had not Seymour communicated his idea to Chapman, and Chapman introduced
the artist to Dickens, the "Pickwick Papers" themselves would have
remained unwritten. In this sense, but in this sense only, therefore,
Robert Seymour was the undoubted originator of "Pickwick." He was an
artist of great power, talent, and ability; and it seems to us that
those only detract from his fame who, in a kind but mistaken spirit of
zeal, would claim for him any other position than that which he so
justly and honestly earned for himself, as one of the most talented of
English graphic satirists.


  [97] "Greville Memoirs." vol. i. p. 180.

  [98] _Ibid._, p. 207.

  [99] His theory, as stated in a book which he published, was this:
    that as all men are born in moral sin, so they have about them a
    physical depravity in the form of an acrid humour, which, flying
    about the system, at length finds vent in diseases which afflict or
    terminate existence. He professed by the means afterwards explained
    to bring this acrid humour to the surface, and having thus expelled
    the cause of disease, to put an end to every bodily ailment.

  [100] In allusion to a complex piece of machinery he said (in his
    book) he had invented, which when complete would cost him two
    thousand guineas. This machine, said Long, _alias_ O'Driscoll, "will
    search all the body, and cut away all the diseased parts, leaving the
    patient perfectly sound and well."

  [101] We found a curtailed copy of these amusing verses in one of the
    _jeux d'esprit_ of the time, called "Valpurgis; or, the Devil's
    Festival" (William Kidd, 6, Old Bond Street, 1831), illustrated by
    Seymour. With the exception of one immaterial verse, we now give the
    complete poem; in the ring of the verses the reader will have no
    difficulty in recognising the hand of the Rev. Richard Harris Barham,
    subsequently author of the "Ingoldsby Legends."

  [102] Anstey's "Pleader's Guide," Bk. 2nd (1810).

  [103] Colonel Brereton. His conduct afterwards formed the subject of
    a court-martial, but the unhappy man forestalled the "finding" by
    committing suicide.

  [104] Mr. à Beckett's strong point was puns; in later days he found a
    vehicle for these in the well-known "Comic Histories" of England and
    Rome, illustrated by John Leech. It was his peculiar good fortune
    always to be associated with artists of the highest ability.

  [105] See Forster's "Life of Dickens."

  [106] In one account of Seymour's death the name of the engraver is
    given as _Starling_. This is a mistake. The engraving (probably one
    of the best the unfortunate artist ever executed) represents a sailor
    captain of Charles the First's time, showing a casket of pearls to a
    lady of remarkable beauty.

  [107] Act 3, Scene 1.



The years 1830-32 were full of political trouble; men's minds were
unsettled; progress was the order of the day, and a reform in the
election of the members who represented or who were supposed to
represent the political opinions of the English constituencies was not
only loudly called for, but had (as we have seen) for a very long time
past been imperatively demanded. The question was shelved from time to
time, but sooner or later it must be settled, and as Liberals and
Conservatives alike will be amused and astounded at the state of English
parliamentary representation half a century ago, we propose just to
glance at matters as they existed in 1830.

The Marquis of Blandford was a somewhat notable character in those days.
He had been a violent opponent of the Catholic Relief Bill; but from the
moment that measure was carried had become as fiery and reckless a
reformer.[108] On the 18th of February, 1830, he proposed that a
committee should be chosen by ballot to take a review of all boroughs
and cities in the kingdom, and report to the Secretary of State for the
Home Department those among them which had fallen into decay, or had in
any manner forfeited their right to representation on the principles of
the English constitution as anciently recognised by national and
parliamentary usage. The Home Secretary was to be bound immediately to
act on this report, and to relieve all such places from the burthen of
sending members to parliament in future, and the vacancies were to be
supplied by towns which had hitherto been unrepresented. All
parliamentary representatives were to be elected by persons "paying scot
and lot." He further proposed to extend the right of voting to all
copyholders and leaseholders, and to place the representation of
Scotland on an equal footing with that of England. The members were to
be chosen from the inhabitants of the places for which they were
returned, and were to be paid for their services according as they were
borough or county members. The former were to receive two guineas a day
each, and county members four guineas; why the latter were to be
estimated at double the value of the former does not seem clear. Mr.
Brougham, although ready to vote for this somewhat extraordinary
measure, "because much of what it proposed to do was good," recommended
that a merely general resolution that reform was necessary should be
substituted in its place. Lord Althorp moved an amendment accordingly on
the terms suggested; but both the amendment and the original motion were

On the third reading of what was then known as the "East Retford" bill,
the first attempt was made in parliament by O'Connell to introduce a new
principle into the representative system of the country, viz., that the
votes of the electors should be taken by ballot. Only twenty-one members
voted for O'Connell's motion, among whom the names now most familiar to
us are those of Lord Althorp, Sir Francis Burdett, and Mr. Hume.

The most ultra-Conservative, however, of our day, who thinks that the
representation of the people has already been carried far enough, will
scarcely credit the fact, that in those days constituencies such as
Leeds, Manchester, and Birmingham were absolutely unrepresented. Yet
such was the case. The motion for transferring the franchise of East
Retford to Birmingham having been lost, Lord John Russell, on the 23rd
of February, brought the matter of the great unrepresented
constituencies before parliament by moving for leave to bring in a bill
"to enable Leeds, Manchester, and Birmingham to return members to the
House of Commons." It seems scarcely credible to us now-a-days, that
this reasonable motion was _negatived_ by 188 to 140.

On the 28th of May, O'Connell brought in a wilder scheme. He moved for
leave to bring in a bill to establish triennial parliaments, universal
suffrage, and vote by ballot; the simple foundation of his system being
that every man who pays a tax or is liable to serve in the militia is
entitled to have a voice in the representation of the country. Only
thirteen members were found to join him in a house of 332. Lord John
Russell, who took advantage of this motion to introduce certain
resolutions of his own, embracing a wider scheme of reform than that
included in his former programme, could not consent to any part of
O'Connell's scheme. Dismissing the subject of triennial parliaments as a
subject of comparative unimportance, and passing on to the other
propositions, universal suffrage and vote by ballot, he contended that
both were incompatible with the principles of the English Constitution.
Mr. Brougham, while he thought that the duration of parliaments might be
shortened with considerable advantage, provided that other measures for
removing improper influence were adopted, declared himself both against
universal suffrage and against vote by ballot; and he entered into a
full statement of the grounds on which he held that the secresy of
voting supposed to be attained by the ballot would produce most
mischievous consequences without securing the object which it professed
to have in view. The resolutions moved by Lord John Russell (after
O'Connell's motion had been negatived) were as follows: (1) "That it was
expedient the number of representatives in the House should be
increased;" (2) "That it was expedient to give members to the large and
manufacturing towns, and additional members to counties of great wealth
and population." Under the second of the resolutions, it was proposed to
divide large and populous counties, such as Yorkshire for instance, into
two divisions, and to give to each of them two members. Among the towns
proposed to be benefited were such important centres as Macclesfield,
Stockport, Cheltenham, Birmingham, Brighton, Whitehaven, Wolverhampton,
Sunderland, Manchester, Bury, Bolton, Dudley, Leeds, Halifax, Sheffield,
North and South Shields; while it was stated that the same principle
would apply to extend the representation to cities of such importance as
Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Belfast. All the resolutions, however
(comprising a third which we have considered it unnecessary to refer
to), were negatived by the amazing majority of 213 to 117. The fact that
this was a much larger majority than that which had thrown out the
previous and more limited proposal for extending the franchise to three
only of the manufacturing towns, will suffice to show the spirit in
which the unreformed parliament of 1830 was accustomed to receive any
suggestion of improvement and reform, reasonable or otherwise.

It may perhaps seem strange that at this stirring period there was an
absolute dearth of political caricaturists, but the fact we have already
attempted to account for. George Cruikshank, the finest caricaturist of
his day, as well as his brother Robert, neither of whom can be described
as purely political satirists, had now practically retired from the
practice of the art, and were employed on work of a totally different
character. Political caricature languished; indeed, if we perhaps except
William Heath, oftentimes better known by his artistic pseudonym of
"Paul Pry," there was not a political caricaturist of any note in

At this juncture there arose a graphic satirist--if indeed we are
justified in so terming him--of genuine originality. Before 1829, he had
been known only as a miniature painter of some celebrity; but he
possessed a taste for satiric art, and had essayed several subjects of
political character which he treated in a style and manner differing
altogether from the mode in which satirical pictures had hitherto been
treated. These he showed to Maclean, one of the great caricature
publishers of the day, who had sufficient discernment and prescience to
recognise in them the work of a man of unquestionable original ability.
He prevailed on the artist to publish these specimens, and their
success was so genuine and unmistakable that both publisher and artist
decided to continue them. Thus commenced a series of political pictures
which ultimately numbered almost a thousand, and ran an uninterrupted
course of prosperity for a period of upwards of two and twenty years.

The enormous success and reputation which the "sketches," as they were
called, achieved, was due not only to the cleverness and originality of
the artist himself, but also in a great measure to the mystery which
attended their publication and appearance. Both parties concerned in
their production preserved an inviolable secrecy on the subject of the
identity of the artist and the place whence the "sketches" originated.
Mr. Buss tells us,[109] "the drawings were called for in a mysterious
hackney coach, mysteriously deposited in a mysterious lithographic
printing office, and as mysteriously printed and mysteriously stored
until the right day of publication." The HB mystery was most religiously
preserved for a great number of years, both by the artist and the
publisher. The initials afforded no clue to those not immediately
concerned in preserving the secret; and yet in this very original
monogram lay the key to the whole of the mystery. The origin of this
signature was simply the junction of two I's and two D's (one above the
other), thus converting the double initials into HB. The single initials
were those of John Doyle, father of the late Richard Doyle, who
afterwards made his own mark as a comic artist in the pages of _Punch_
and elsewhere.

The "sketches" of HB were a complete innovation upon pictorial satire.
The idea of satirizing political subjects and public men without the
exaggeration or vulgarity which the caricaturists had more or less
inherited from Gillray, was entirely new to the public, and took with
them immensely; and herein lies their peculiarity, that whilst the
subjects are treated with a distinctly sarcastic humour, there is an
absence of anything approaching to exaggeration, and the likenesses of
the persons represented are most faithfully preserved. Whilst claiming
for himself the character of a pictorial satirist, the artist is all
throughout anxious to impress upon you the fact that he repudiates the
notion of being considered a caricaturist in the Johnsonian meaning of
the word. This _idea_ seems also to have struck Thackeray, who, writing
at the time when the sketches were appearing, says of him, "You never
hear any laughing at 'H.B.'; his pictures are a great deal too genteel
for that,--polite points of wit, which strike one as exceedingly clever
and pretty, and cause one to smile in a quiet, gentlemanlike kind of
way."[110] Throughout the series of sketches we know but of one instance
where the artist suffers any comparison to be established between
himself and the political caricaturists who had preceded him, and that
is the one entitled _Bombardment Extraordinary_ (having reference to the
indictment for libel against the _Morning Journal_, which was shortly
followed by the collapse of that paper), which is treated to the full as
coarsely as Gillray himself might desire. The fact of this being among
the earliest sketches would seem to show that the artist had not then
quite made up his mind whether to follow in the footsteps of his great
predecessor or not. We think the result must have convinced him that,
whilst having distinct merits of his own as a satirist, and indeed as an
artist, he was very far behind Gillray; and the rest of the sketches
seem to show that their designer had made up his mind that no middle
course was possible;--in other words, that he must be HB or nothing.

The faithfulness of the likenesses of the persons who appear in these
"sketches" is simply marvellous. Not only has the artist preserved the
features of the subjects of his satires, but he has caught their
attitude--their manner, almost their tricks and habits,--and the
drawings being, as we have said, wholly free from exaggeration, the very
men stand before you, often, it is true, in absurd and ridiculous
positions. The persons who figure in these lithographs comprise among
names of note many whose reputations were too ephemeral to preserve
them from oblivion. On the other hand, amongst the various groups we
recognise Prince Talleyrand, the Dukes of Cumberland, Gloucester,
Wellington, and Sussex, George the Fourth, William the Fourth, Louis
Philippe, her present Majesty, Lord Brougham, Colonel Sibthorpe, Count
Pozzo di Borgo, Daniel O'Connell, Lord John Russell, Sir Robert Peel,
Mr. Hume, Lord Melbourne, Lord Palmerston, Sir Francis Burdett, Mr.
Roebuck, Sir James Graham. Persons with no political reputation or
connection are occasionally introduced to serve the purposes of the
artist: doing duty for him in this manner we find the Rev. Edward
Irving; Townsend the "runner," of Bow Street notoriety; George Robins,
the auctioneer; Liston, the comedian; and others.

Ever on the alert for comic subjects, John Doyle was remarkably prompt
and ready to catch an idea. Frequently these ideas were suggested to him
by a phrase--a sentence--a few words in a speech; occasionally he takes
a hint from his Lempriére; whilst not unfrequently his happiest
conceptions are derived from a character or scene in one of the popular
operas or farces of the time. Thus, in one of the debates on the Reform
Bill in the House of Lords, some very high words passed between Lords
Grey and Kenyon, the latter applying the words "abandoned" and
"atrocious" to the conduct of the former, who on his part declared in
reply that he threw back the expressions with scorn and indignation. In
the midst of the confusion the Duke of Cumberland rose, and implored
their lordships to tranquillize themselves and proceed with the debate
in a temperate and orderly manner, advice which, after taking time to
cool, they thought it prudent to follow. The farce of "I'll Be Your
Second" was then running at the Olympic, Mr. Liston taking the part of
"Placid," who, having a pecuniary interest in one of the characters who
has a weakness for duelling, is kept in a state of nervous anxiety, and
constantly interposes with the question, "Can't this affair be
arranged?" In one of his "sketches," HB gives us _A Scene from the Farce
of "I'll Be Your Second,"_ in which the Duke of Cumberland is
represented as Placid, endeavouring to arrange matters amicably between
my Lords Kenyon and Grey.


The duke himself was one of the most unpopular personages of his time,
and evinced on his part a contempt for public opinion which did nothing
to lessen the prejudice with which he was generally regarded. We dislike
a man none the less for knowing that he is conscious of and indifferent
to our good or bad opinion; and so it was with the Duke of Cumberland.
He followed his pleasure (field sports amongst the rest) with a serene
and happy indifference to all that the world might think or say about
him. This characteristic of his Royal Highness is satirized in another
of the "sketches," where he is supposed to sing "My Dog and My Gun," as
"Hawthorn," in the then popular opera of "Love in a Village." His Royal
Highness made himself a remarkable character in those smooth-faced days
by wearing a profusion of whisker and moustache perfectly white. A
rumour somehow got abroad and was circulated in the tittle-tattle
newspapers of the time, that at the instance of some fair lady he had
shaved off these martial appendages. The cavalry for some unexplained
reason were the only branch of the service who were then permitted to
wear moustaches, and in one of his sketches, the artist places the
smooth-shaved duke in the midst of his brother officers, who regard him
with the greatest horror and amazement.

The Ministry which succeeded that of the Duke of Wellington had entered
office under express declaration that they would forthwith apply
themselves to the reform of the representation of the people; and
accordingly, on the 1st of March, 1831, a bill for that purpose was
actually introduced by Lord John Russell; but the strength and violence
of the opposition which could still be mustered against it may be judged
by the fact, that the second reading was carried by the hopeless
majority of _one_ in the fullest house that had ever been assembled. A
dissolution took place shortly afterwards, and the avowed intention of
such dissolution had been to obtain from the people at the general
election (which followed) a House of Commons pledged to support the
Reform Bill; indeed, the only test by which candidates were tried, was
their expressed pledge to support this particular measure. On the 24th
of June, 1831, Lord John Russell again moved for leave to bring in a
bill to amend the representation of England, and the difference in the
result obtained by the election is conclusively shown by the fact, that
the votes for the second reading were 367 against 231. On the 13th of
July it passed into Committee, and on the 7th of September, the bill as
amended in Committee was reported to the House; the majority in favour
of the motion for passing it was found to be 109, the ayes being 345,
and the noes 236.


The Reform Bill next day was carried up to the Lords by Lord John
Russell, attended by about a hundred of its staunchest supporters in the
lower House. These gentlemen appear to have adopted the unusual mode of
exciting the attention of the peers and giving to the function they were
performing a striking and theatrical character, by accompanying the
delivery of the bill to the Lord Chancellor with their own
characteristic "Hear, hear." A cry of "order" recalled them to a sense
of the presence in which they stood. In Doyle's contemporary sketch of
_Bringing up our Bill_, this incident is referred to. Lord Chancellor
Brougham stands at the bar of the House to receive it from the hands of
the member who leads the deputation (Lord John Russell); behind him we
see Lord Althorp, the Marquis of Chandos, and the Right Hon. John Wilson
Croker, who exchange signs with their fingers, showing that the
proceeding does not altogether meet with their approval. In the
background may be seen Sir Charles Wetherell, hated of the reformers of
Bristol, looking as opposed to the measure as ever; the bill, as we
know, was thrown out by the Lords in October, by a majority of 41. The
same month, its enthusiastic advocate, the Rev. Sydney Smith, at a
reform meeting at Taunton, compared the attempt of the House of Lords to
stop the progress of reform to a certain fictitious Dame Partington of
Sidmouth, who had essayed during the progress of the great storm to
arrest the progress of the Atlantic with her broom. "The Atlantic was
roused," said the wit; "Mrs. Partington's spirit was up; but I need not
tell you that the contest was unequal. The Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs.
Partington." Immediately after this speech appeared the sketch of _Dame
Partington and the Ocean of Reform_, in which the character of the
apocryphal and obstinate dame is sustained by that vigorous opponent of
the Reform Bill, his grace the Duke of Wellington.


As the Lords had thrown out the Reform Bill, it was necessary to begin
_de novo_. Accordingly, on the 12th of December, Lord John Russell again
moved for leave to bring in a new Reform Bill, which passed the third
reading by a majority of 116 on the 23rd of March, 1832, and its second
reading in the House of Peers, by a majority of nine, on the 14th of
April. Then the fighting and opposition became once more as strenuous
and as sustained as ever. On a subsequent division the ministry were
left in a minority of thirty-five, whereupon Earl Grey proceeded to the
king, and tendered to his Majesty the alternative either of arming the
ministers with the powers they deemed necessary to carry through their
bill (which really meant a power to create whatever new peers they might
deem requisite for the purpose), or of accepting their own immediate
resignation. In the course of the following day the king informed his
lordship that he had determined to accept his resignation rather than
have recourse to the only alternative which had been proposed to him;
and accordingly, on the 9th, Earl Grey announced in the House of Lords,
and Lord Althorp in the Commons, that the ministry was at an end, and
simply held office till their successors should be appointed. The Duke
of Wellington attempted to form an administration, and failed--and his
failure left matters, the ministers, and the perplexed monarch, of
course exactly "as they were."

The excitement occasioned by the Lords was tremendous. At London,
Birmingham, Manchester, and other large centres, simultaneous meetings
were held to petition the Commons to stop the supplies. In the
metropolis placards were everywhere posted, recommending the union of
all friends of the cause; the enforcement of the public rights at all
hazards; and a universal resistance to the payment of taxes, rates,
tithes, and assessments; the country in fact was on the brink of
revolution. At the meetings of the political societies, even in the
leading journals, projects were openly discussed and recommended for
_organizing_ and _arming_ the people; the population of the large towns
was ready to be launched on the metropolis. "What was to be done--peers
or no peers? A cabinet sat nearly all day, and Lord Grey went once or
twice to the king. He, poor man, was at his wits' end, and tried an
experiment (not a very constitutional one) of his own by writing to a
number of peers, entreating them to withdraw their opposition to the
bill."[111] The letter to which Mr. Charles Greville refers is evidently
the following circular:--

  "ST. JAMES'S PALACE, _May 17th, 1832_.

  "MY DEAR LORD,--I am honoured with his Majesty's command to acquaint
  your lordship, that all difficulties to the arrangements in progress
  will be obviated by a declaration in the House to-night from a
  sufficient number of peers, that in _consequence of the present state
  of affairs_, they have come to the resolution of dropping their
  further opposition to the Reform Bill, so that it may pass without
  delay, and as nearly as possible in its present shape.

  "I have the honour to be yours sincerely,


Such a request, coming from such a quarter, was not only weighty in
itself, but necessarily implied after all that had taken place, that his
Majesty suggested this course as the only means of avoiding the creation
of a large number of additional peers. The majority of the House were
thus placed in the unenviable position of being compelled to choose
whether they would see a hundred members added to the number of their
opponents to carry a measure which was hateful to them, or to abandon
for a time their rights, privileges, and duties as legislators. They
chose the latter alternative, and during the remainder of the discussion
on the bill, not more than between thirty and forty attended at any one
time. By this means, and this only, the bill was eventually carried.

On these grounds John Doyle appears to have founded his theory that
William the Fourth was a sincere convert to Reform.[112] In one of the
"sketches" he shows us his Majesty in the character of Johnny Gilpin
carried along at headlong speed by his unmanageable _grey_ steed
"Reform." He flies past the famous hostelry at Edmonton, where his wife
and her friends (represented by the Duke of Wellington and a party of
Tories) are anxiously awaiting his arrival. The turnpike-keeper (John
Bull) throws open the gate to let him pass, too delighted with the fun
to think of any personal expense to himself, and conscious that if the
gate is shut the inexpert horseman must come to unutterable grief. The
bottles dangling at Gilpin's waist are filled with "Birmingham froth"
and "Rotunda pop," in allusion to the stump oratory of the Birmingham
Political Union and the Rotunda in Blackfriars Road. Hume and O'Connell,
the ardent supporters of the bill, cheering with might and main, closely
follow John on horseback; while Sir Francis Burdett and Sir T. C.
Hobhouse, equally ardent advocates of Reform, join the cry on foot. The
frightened geese with coroneted heads represent, of course, the peers,
who had offered such determined opposition to the measure, while the old
apple woman rolling in the mud is no other than poor Lord Eldon. The
bird of ill-omen foretelling disaster is Mr. Croker, Secretary to the
Admiralty. Later on the same year (1832), we find his Majesty
represented as Mazeppa bound to the _grey_ steed Reform, several of the
Conservative members of either houses of Parliament doing duty as the
wolves and "fearful wild fowl" that accompany the rider in his perilous
course. In another satire, the king, supposed to have discovered his
mistake, figures as Sinbad the Sailor, vainly endeavouring to shake
himself free of the old man of the sea (Earl Grey), who however is too
firmly seated on his shoulders to be dislodged.


The Duke of Wellington's political convictions having prompted him to be
among one of the leading opponents to the Reform Bill, he narrowly
escaped serious injury at the hands of the London rabble. On the 18th of
June, 1832, having occasion to pay a visit to the Mint, a crowd of
several hundred roughs collected on Tower Hill to await his return; and
on making his appearance at the gate he was hissed and hooted by the
crowd, who followed him along the Minories yelling, hooting, and using
abusive language, their numbers and threatening demeanour momentarily
increasing. About half-way up the Minories he was met by Mr. Ballantine,
the Thames police magistrate, who asked him if he could render him any
assistance; but the cool, courageous soldier simply replied that he did
not mind what was going on. When his grace had got to about the middle
of Fenchurch Street, one of the cowardly ruffians rushed out of the
crowd, and seizing the bridle with one hand attempted to dismount the
duke with the other, in which he would have succeeded but for the
courageous conduct of the groom and a body of city police, who
opportunely made their appearance at the time. The mob had now grown as
numerous as it was cowardly; but by the exertions of the police, his
grace was escorted through it and along Cheapside without sustaining
personal injury. In Holborn, however, the rabble, growing bolder, began
to throw stones and filth, and the duke, followed by the _canaille_,
rode to the chambers of Sir Charles Wetherell, in Stone Buildings,
Lincoln's Inn, where he remained, till a body of police arrived from Bow
Street, by whom he was escorted in safety to Apsley House. To make the
outrage more disgraceful, if possible, it happened on the anniversary of
the crowning victory of Waterloo; the mob, forgetting in their
unreasoning wrath the priceless services the great soldier had rendered
to the nation, whilst the cowardly rascals who composed it were the very
persons who could by no possibility be benefited by the provisions of
the bill in which they professed to take so great an interest. On the
night of the illumination which followed the passing of the Act, they
broke the windows of his grace and other opponents of the measure; and
in one of the contemporary HB sketches, _Taking an Airing in Hyde Park_,
the duke is seen looking out of one of his broken window-panes. Before
the end of the year he was visited by serious illness, and the angry
feelings his opposition to the measure had provoked, and which had been
gradually subsiding, were suddenly followed by a complete reaction in
his favour. HB commemorates this in his sketch of _Auld Lang Syne_,
which shows the happy reconciliation between John Bull and the hero of


Consistently and conscientiously as the great duke had opposed what he
considered the revolutionary tendency of the Reform Bill, it must not be
forgotten that it is to him that the Catholics owe the benefits of the
Act of 1829, which relieved them of the disabilities under which they
had so long suffered; and it must not be forgotten too, that in this
measure he had not only to contend with his own repugnance to Catholic
emancipation, but also with that of his chief colleagues,--of the great
majority of the House of Lords, and of the king himself. With the latter
indeed his task had been a very difficult one; and it was only a few
days before the meeting of Parliament in the early part of 1829, that
the consent of George the Fourth had been obtained. Among the most
strenuous of the duke's opponents to the Catholic Relief Bill was the
Earl of Winchelsea, who, in the unreasoning bitterness of his anger,
shut his eyes to the injustice under which the Catholics had so long
suffered, and most unwarrantably charged his grace with an intention "to
introduce Popery into every department of the State." These words led to
a hostile meeting in Battersea Fields on the 21st of March, 1829. Lord
Winchelsea, after receiving the duke's fire, discharged his pistol in
the air, and there the affair ended, his second delivering a written
acknowledgment expressing his lordship's regret for having imputed
disgraceful motives to the conduct of the duke, in his pro-Catholic
exertions. Twelve months afterwards, on the 2nd of April, 1830, Richard
William Lambrecht was indicted at Kingston assizes for the murder of
Oliver Clayton, whom he had shot in a duel in Battersea Fields on the
preceding 8th of January. Lambrecht had a narrow escape, for the judge
in his summing up told the jury that if they were of opinion that the
accused met Clayton "on the ground with the intention, if the difference
could not be settled, of putting his life against Clayton's, and Mr.
Clayton's against his," the prisoner was guilty of wilful murder; and
the jury, finding on application to the learned judge that there were no
circumstances in the case to reduce the crime to manslaughter, by way
apparently of getting out of the difficulty, returned a verdict of _not
guilty_. This incident suggested the sketch entitled _A Hint to_
_Duellists_, in which the unsparing satirist places the duke in
Lambrecht's unenviable position before Mr. Justice Bailey, from whose
lips are proceeding a portion of the charge which he actually delivered
to the jury at the trial at Kingston assizes. Even the duke, impassive
as he appeared, must have felt the justice of this unsparing but
admirable sarcasm.

Another member of the royal family who frequently figures in the
"sketches" is the Duke of Sussex. He was a man of large frame, and as
remarkable for the blackness of his whiskers as the Duke of Cumberland
was conspicuous for the bleached appearance of these hirsute adornments.
At a meeting of the council of the London University, he is reported to
have said that for the promotion of anatomical science he should have no
personal objection to dedicate his own body after death to the College
of Surgeons for the purposes of dissection. This hint was enough of
course for HB, and his royal highness accordingly figures in a
contemporary satire as _A great Subject_ "_Dedicated to the Royal
College of Surgeons_."


Another prominent personage of HB's time, and a singular instance of the
change which frequently takes place in the political convictions of
public men, was Sir Francis Burdett. Commencing his career as an ardent
radical and reformer intolerant of abuses, he finished it and astonished
his former supporters by being returned for Westminster in the
Conservative interest. The political conduct of this once celebrated man
is of so unusual a character that a short recapitulation of his career
seems necessary, in order that the reader may understand the satires we
are about to describe. Notwithstanding his expressed views in support of
absolute purity of election, his own election for Middlesex in 1802-4,
is said--what with the expenses and subsequent litigation--to have cost
him upwards of one hundred thousand pounds. On the 5th of May, 1807, he
was challenged by and fought a duel with Mr. James Paull, on Wimbledon
Common, the cause of quarrel being Sir Francis's refusal to act as
chairman at a gathering of Paull's supporters at the Crown and Anchor
Tavern, Westminster, in April. The duel terminated in both the
principals being seriously wounded. The same year he was returned to
Parliament to serve as member for Westminster, which constituency he
continued to represent for nearly thirty years. Perhaps the greatest
event of his life was his committal to the Tower under the Speaker's
warrant for a libellous letter published in _Cobbett's Political
Register_, of 24th March, 1810, in which he questioned the power of the
House to imprison delinquents. He at first resisted the execution of the
warrant, and being a favourite with the mob, a street contest ensued
between the military and the people, in which some lives were lost. In
1818, we find him moving for annual parliaments and universal suffrage,
when the House divided with the result of 100 to 2, the minority being
composed of the mover and seconder--that is to say, himself and Lord
Cochrane. In 1820, he was found guilty at Leicester of a libel on
Government in a letter to his constituents reflecting on the Manchester
outrage of the preceding year; a new trial was moved for by himself, but
this was refused, and he was sentenced the following February to three
months' imprisonment, and to pay a fine of £2,000. In March, 1825, his
resolutions for the relief of the Irish Catholics were carried by a
majority of 247 to 234; but in later life his restless spirit gradually
calmed down, and after the appointment of the Melbourne Ministry in
1835, he surprised and disgusted his party by going into opposition,
principally (as he alleged) on account of the court which they paid to
O'Connell and his followers in their agitation against the Irish
Established Church. For some time previous to the sketch we are about to
describe he had absented himself from the House, and otherwise shown his
distaste for the persons and principles of the leading men of the party
to which he had formerly belonged. The busy-bodies who professed to be
the exponents of public opinion in Westminster, pressed him for an
explicit statement of his views, and eventually called upon him to
resign, and he took them directly at their word. The person brought
forward to oppose him was John Temple Leader, then member for
Bridgwater, a name which suggested to the artist the pictorial pun of
_Following the Leader_, the "followers" being Lord Melbourne, Lord John
Russell, Lord Palmerston, Mr. O'Connell, Sir J. Hobhouse, Mr. Hume, and
Sir William Molesworth. Notwithstanding the exertions of the ministers
and their friends to secure the election of Mr. Leader, that gentleman
was not only beaten by a very considerable majority, but lost as a
natural consequence his seat for Bridgwater, a fact which suggested to
the artist another able sketch, _The Dog and the Shadow_. The election
itself forms the subject of _A Race for the Westminster Stakes_, in
which the aged thoroughbred (Sir Francis), ridden by Lord Castlereagh,
beats the young horse Leader, jockey Mr. Roebuck. Among the backers of
the losing horse, Daniel O'Connell and Joseph Hume may be easily
detected by the lugubrious expression of their faces. The sketch of _A
Fine Old English Gentleman_ was suggested by a remark made by the
_Times_ during the progress of the contest, in which it described Sir
Francis as "a fine specimen of the old English gentleman." In the
left-hand corner of this sketch the artist has placed a picture of the
Tower of London, by way of reminder of the days when the baronet was
regarded not so much in the light of "a fine old English Gentleman" as a
radical of the most advanced type, and as a martyr in the cause of
public liberty.


A change of opinion however is obviously a necessary incident of
political life, and we have ourselves witnessed some remarkable
instances of such versatility in our own days. In some cases these
changes are only temporary or partial, in others they are radical and
complete; sometimes they are dictated by conviction, at others by
necessity; occasionally they seem to be the result of absolute caprice;
while in not a few instances, I fear, we should not be very far wrong in
assigning them to feelings of disappointment or personal or political
pique. This tergiversation in public men forms the subject of one of
HB's happiest inspirations. In 1837 there appeared at the Adelphi
Theatre an American comedian named Rice, the forerunner of the Christies
and other "original" minstrels of our day, who sang in his character of
a nigger a comic (?) song, which, being wholly destitute of melody, and
even more idiotic than compositions of that kind usually are, forthwith
became exceedingly popular, being groaned by every organ, and whistled
by all the street urchins of the day. This peculiar production, which
was known as "Jim Crow," was accompanied by a characteristic double
shuffle, while every verse concluded with this intellectual chorus:--

  "Turn about, and wheel about,
     And do just _so_;
   And every time I turn about,
     I jump Jim Crow."

In _Jim Crow Dance and Chorus_ (the title of the sketch referred to), we
find the leading men of all parties assembled at a ball, engaged in the
new saltatory performance initiated by Mr. Rice. In the left-hand corner
we notice Lord Abinger, formerly Sir James Scarlett, a Whig, who growing
tired of waiting for the advent of his own party to power, changed his
political opinions--that is to say "jumped Jim Crow,"--and was made
Attorney General by the Duke of Wellington. Next him is Lord Stanley,
who commenced life as a Whig and was a member of Lord Grey's Reform
administration, but unprepared to go the lengths which his party seemed
disposed to take, he too "jumped Jim Crow," deserted them, and joined
the ranks of the Opposition. Lord Stanley's _vis-à-vis_ is Sir James
Graham; in his early days he had distinguished himself by the strength
of his radical opinions, but as a member of Lord Grey's cabinet, he
suppressed these sentiments, and "jumped Jim Crow" by confining himself
more strictly within Whig limits. Conspicuous amongst the performers is
Lord Melbourne! When in office under Mr. Canning he had made several
anti-Reform speeches, but afterwards became a member of the Government
of Lord Grey by which Reform was carried;--as Prime Minister he went far
nearer to the principles of absolute democracy than either Lord Grey or
Lord Althorp. Lord Melbourne's face, however, shows unmistakable
repugnance at finding that his numerous "wheels about" have brought him
face to face with O'Connell, and he turns in disgust from the famous
agitator, who, with his thumb to his nose and his left arm stuck in his
side, shows that he has no intention of permitting him to enjoy a _pas_
all to himself. O'Connell of course shows himself complete master of the
figure which he had danced so frequently; one of the most shifty,
unstable men of his day, he can scarcely be called a politician, for
like all agitators, the person he really sought to serve was himself
alone. He chopped and changed just as it suited his purpose, and is
properly introduced by the artist amongst the most adroit and vigorous
of the political double shufflers.

The Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel find themselves _vis-à-vis_,
in allusion to their conduct with reference to Catholic Emancipation.
Both had originally been consistent opposers of the measure, which was
at last carried by the influence of the very men who before had been its
most persistent adversaries.

But, if any one had "turned about and wheeled about," it was Sir Francis
Burdett, and accordingly the artist introduces him as indulging in a
very flourishing _pas seul_; he wears a self-satisfied smirk, and
carries his thumbs in his waistcoat, in allusion to his own contention
that he had been always consistent. Yet this self-satisfied
aristocratic-looking personage not many years before had distinguished
himself as the most prominent of radical malcontents, and had been drawn
by his enthusiastic dupes through the city of Westminster in a triumphal
car, decorated with the symbols of liberty, and preceded by a banner
bearing the inscription, "Westminster's Pride and England's Glory."

The queer figure in the cocked hat is Sir de Lacy Evans, who figures as
one of the dancers in allusion to his practice as compared with his
professions. In 1833 he obtained a seat for Westminster, triumphing over
his opponent Sir J. C. Hobhouse, who for fifteen years had represented
that constituency, both candidates professing to be zealous advocates
for the abolition of flogging in the army. Sir de Lacy nevertheless,
when commanding the British Legion at St. Sebastian, "jumped Jim Crow"
by flogging his soldiers without mercy. Lord John Russell once sneered
at every project of Reform, but his Lordship, as we have seen, "jumped
Jim Crow" by repeatedly introducing the Reform Bill into the House of
Commons, which was mainly passed by his persistent exertions; very
properly, therefore, Lord John figures in HB's clever sketch among the
most prominent of "Jim Crow" double shufflers.


  [108] These political changes, as we shall presently see, are by no
    means uncommon. William Cobbett, for instance, in 1801 supported the
    principles of Pitt, but in 1805, from a "Church and King" man, he
    became and continued an ardent liberal.

  [109] "English Graphic Satire," by R. W. Buss.

  [110] _Westminster Review_, June, 1840.

  [111] Greville's "Memoirs," ii. p. 303.

  [112] This was the idea of all Tories of the day. The terrible effects
    of the Reform Bill were amusingly predicted by John Wilson Croker to
    the king himself; they have not of course been fulfilled. See
    "Journal of Julian Charles Young" (Memoir of Charles Mayne Young,
    vol. i. p. 231).




Sydney Smith said of little Lord John Russell, that he was "ready to
undertake _any_thing and _every_thing--to build St. Paul's,--cut for the
stone,--or command the Channel fleet," and this satire of the wit was
true. He tried politics and he tried literature, and few people will say
that he was entirely successful at either. As a politician, for
instance, his general capacity for getting himself and his party into a
mess, earned from the most intellectually powerful of his political
opponents the enduring title of "Lord Meddle and Muddle." He has not
been dead very long, yet what reputation has he left behind him as a
dramatist--novelist--historian--biographer--editor--pamphleteer, all of
which _rôles_ he essayed at some time or other of his long and eventful
career? His _Nun of Arronca_ (1822) fetches it is true an exceedingly
high price, because having been rigidly suppressed by its author it is
now exceedingly rare. The best that can be said of Lord John--and that
is saying a great deal--is, that he was a consistent Liberal according
to his lights, and that to him belongs the honour and glory of bringing
about the great measure of Reform, which, as we have seen, was, mainly
through his instrumentality, accomplished in 1832.

Lord John, as might have been expected, frequently appears in the
"political sketches" of HB. He cuts an amusing figure in one where
_Jonah_ (Lord Minto) is about to be thrown overboard by Lords Lansdowne,
Palmerston, and Duncannon, by order of the captain (Lord Melbourne), to
appease the storm raised by Lords Brougham and Lyndhurst in reference to
a rumour that Lord Minto (First Lord of the Admiralty), had instructed
British cruisers to stop all Sardinian vessels carrying warlike stores
for Don Carlos. Lord John, while clinging to the mast behind, and
viewing with terror the impending fate of his colleague, evidently
solaces himself with the conviction that his own weight is too
insignificant to have any material effect upon the safety of the ship.
Minto owed his safety to the Duke of Wellington, who therefore figures
in the sketch as the whale; for, although convinced that his lordship
had been imprudent, he successfully resisted Brougham's motion for a
copy of the instructions, and thereby succeeded in lodging poor Jonah on
dry land.


One of the "sketches" in which Lord John Russell figures reminds us of a
remarkable discussion which possesses considerable interest for every
reader of the cheap newspapers of to-day. The Chancellor of the
Exchequer (the Right Hon. Thomas Spring Rice) in opening his budget on
the 6th of May, 1836, showed a disposable surplus of £662,000 only,
which he proposed (in the usual way) to apply towards the reduction of
taxation. He proposed, in the first place, to consolidate the paper
duties and to reduce their amount in a manner which he proceeded to
explain; and after accounting for £200,000, the balance of the surplus
he intended to apply to the reduction of the stamp on newspapers. The
duty minus the discount was fourpence, which he proposed to reduce to a
penny, and to give of course no discount. The reader must not suppose
from the foregoing, however, that all the proprietors of newspapers of
that day paid the duty; on the contrary, the large majority evaded it in
every possible way. The measure in fact was intended as much as a
protection to the revenue as anything else, for the sale of unstamped
newspapers throughout the country had become so extensive that no series
of prosecutions was found effectual to put them down. Every sheet, it is
true, professed to bear on it the printer's name; but the name so
appended was in six cases out of eight a false one. Exchequer processes
were issued; all the power of the law was set in motion; in the course
of three weeks three hundred persons had been imprisoned for selling
unstamped papers in the streets, but without in the slightest degree
repressing the illegal sale. The Chancellor argued that the loss which
the revenue would sustain in the first instance would be more than
compensated by the enormous increase of duty to be obtained from the
enlarged circulation; from the additional duty arising from the greater
consumption of paper; and from the very large increase which might be
expected from the produce of the duty on advertisements.

The opponents of the measure were of three classes: first, those who
looked upon the proposal as radical and subversive; secondly, those who
because a reduction is suggested in one quarter invariably consider it
the correct thing to propose it in another; and lastly, the owners of
the established newspapers of the day. The arguments of the first class
assumed the following form: "In proportion as any political party
approaches more or less towards pure democracy and the right divine of
mere numbers, its interests will require that the means should be
increased of disseminating among the lower classes, and as nearly
gratuitously as possible, the exciting and poisonous food which is at
last to end in the revolutionary fever."[113] The second class, strange
to say, rested their hopes in this instance on the singularly slippery
basis of _soap_. Sir C. Keightley moved (on the 20th of June) that
instead of diminishing the stamp duty on newspapers, the duty on hard
and soft soap should be reduced. The reduction of such duty would, he
argued, by aiding cleanliness, promote the health and comfort of the
people, while the lowering of newspaper stamps would do nothing of the
kind, but would tend rather to introduce a cheap and profligate press,
"one of the greatest curses which could be inflicted on humanity." He
contended, moreover, that it was absurd to argue that the poor were
debarred from reading the public prints, when in a coffee shop, for
three-halfpence, they could obtain a cup of coffee and a sight of every
newspaper published in London. Mr. Barclay, one of the members for
Surrey, thought it impossible for any reasonable being to hesitate
between the relative virtues of newspapers and soap; and as for the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, he could not believe for one moment that if
left to his own unaided judgment he would hesitate to give his
preference to the latter. The Chancellor nevertheless avowed in the
plainest terms his preference for newspapers, and his conviction of the
advisability of an immediate reduction in the stamp duty; the result,
after the lapse of less than forty years, has conclusively proved the
wisdom of the measure which he succeeded in carrying.


Newspaper proprietorship was then a monopoly; and the argument by which
the rich proprietor, the representative of the third class of opponents,
sought to maintain his monopoly cannot fail to amuse the newspaper
reader of to-day. The monopoliser who, to maintain the character of his
paper and to supply the public with the best and earliest information,
incurred the expense of procuring parliamentary reports, obtaining
foreign intelligence, anticipating the arrival of the post by expresses,
and by having correspondents in every quarter of the world where matters
of interest were going forward, said, that should the measure pass, he
must thenceforth either be content to lower the tone of the public press
by not giving the same amount of accurate intelligence, or must carry on
the contest with those who went to no expense at all. "The result would
be not only the ruin of the property of the newspaper proprietors and
the destruction of their property, but it would be something much more
fatal to the general interests of the country, for the editors of the
present respectable papers would not be able to compete with these
predatory publications, and would be compelled to forego that extent of
information which was then so accurately given. We should have the
newspaper press"--mark this, ye omnivorous readers of to-day, who
commence with _The Times_, adjourn to the _Telegraph_, peruse the pages
of the _Morning Post_, wander through the columns of the _Daily News_,
and finish off with the express edition of the _Globe_ or _Evening
Standard_, reserving your _Saturday Review_, your _Truth_, and your
_Vanity Fair_ for Sunday solatium--"we should have the newspaper press
simply reduced to this state: that no longer would there be a regular
and correct supply of information to the public respecting the debates
of Parliament or _other important matters, but there would be only such
an amount and such a description of information as could be furnished
upon the inaccurate data of a man who would not go to any expense in the
use of the means at present employed_." These were the views of the
newspaper proprietors of 1836, as expounded by that respectable but
distinctly Tory authority, "The Annual Register."[114]

The measure of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, of which we have
attempted the foregoing explanation, appears to have suggested to John
Doyle his sketch of _The Rival Newsmongers_, in which the leading men of
all parties are represented in the act of endeavouring to force the sale
of their own journals. The scene is supposed to be enacted in front of
the Elephant and Castle, where we find the "Union Coach" waiting to take
up passengers,--the three who occupy the roof being a Scotchman,
indicated by his bonnet and plaid, Paddy by his shocking bad hat, while
in the portly, jolly-looking party next him we have no difficulty
whatever in recognising honest John Bull. The three are listening to the
appeals of O'Connell, close to whom is Mr. Roebuck, and behind him again
Mr. Hume. Sir Roger Gresley addresses himself to the insides, and the
person holding up his paper to the special notice of John Bull is the
Marquis of Londonderry. The driver of the coach is Lord Melbourne, and
the ostler little Lord John Russell.


The public man who perhaps of all others earned and deserved his place
in the pictorial satires of the nineteenth century was emphatically
Brougham. The verdict of posterity on this restless but unquestionably
brilliant man of genius must of necessity be a somewhat disappointing
one; he aimed at being nothing less than an Admirable Crichton, and such
a character in the nineteenth century, when every public man must be
more or less talented, more or less brilliant, would be an impossibility
even to a genius. A rival lawyer and political opponent, Sir Charles
Wetherell is reported to have said of him that he knew a little of
everything but law; and although this statement was spiteful and untrue,
there is no doubt of the truth of Mr. Greville's remarks, that his duty
as Chancellor was confined to appeals which _must_ come before him,
lunacy and other matters over which he had sole jurisdiction, and that
"nobody ever thought of bringing an original cause into his court."[115]
We think we may even go farther than this, and say that no lawyer of the
present day would dream of relying on Lord Brougham's decisions.
O'Connell said of him, "I pay very little attention to anything Lord
Brougham says. He makes a greater number of foolish speeches than any
other man of the present generation. There may be more nonsense in some
one speech of another person, but in the number, the multitude of
foolish speeches, Lord Brougham has it hollow. I would start him ten to
one--ay, fifty to one--in talking nonsense against any prattler now

Some amusing examples of his restless anxiety to figure on all occasions
in the character of an Admirable Crichton are given by Mr. Charles
Greville, whose "Memoirs" stand in much the same relation to the graphic
satires of the nineteenth century as the "Odes" of Dr. Walcot do towards
the caricatures of James Gillray. "Dined," says Mr. Greville (under date
of 7th June, 1831), "with Sefton yesterday, who gave me an account of a
dinner at Fowell Buxton's on Saturday to see the brewery, at which
Brougham was the _magnus Apollo_. Sefton is excellent as a commentator
on Brougham; he says that he watches him incessantly, never listens to
anybody else when he is there, and _rows_ him unmercifully afterwards
for all the humbug, nonsense, and palaver he hears him talk to
people.... They dined in the brewhouse and visited the whole
establishment. Lord Grey was there in star, garter, and ribbons. There
were people ready to show and explain everything. But not a bit.
Brougham took the explanation of everything into his own hands; the mode
of brewing, the machinery, down to the feeding of the cart-horses.
After dinner the account books were brought, and the young Buxtons were
beckoned up to the top of the table by their father to hear the words of
wisdom which flowed from the lips of my Lord Chancellor. He affected to
study the ledger, and made various pertinent remarks on the manner of
book-keeping. There was a man whom Brougham called 'Cornelius' (Sefton
did not know who he was), with whom he seemed very familiar. While
Brougham was talking he dropped his voice, on which 'Cornelius' said,
'Earl Grey is listening,' that he might speak louder and nothing be
lost. He was talking of Paley, and said that 'although he did not always
understand his own meaning, he always made it intelligible to others,'
on which 'Cornelius' said, 'My good friend, if he made it so clear to
others, he must have some comprehension of it himself;' on which Sefton
attacked him afterwards, and swore that 'he was a mere child in the
hands of "Cornelius;" that he never saw anybody so put down.' These
people are all subscribers to the London University,[116] and Sefton
swears he overheard Brougham tell them that 'Sir Isaac Newton was
nothing compared to some of the present professors,' or something to
that effect. I put down all this nonsense because it amused me in the
recital, and is excessively characteristic of the man, one of the most
remarkable that ever existed. Lady Sefton told me that he went with them
to the British Museum, where all the officers of the Museum were in
attendance to receive them. He would not let anybody explain anything,
but did all the honours himself. At last they came to the collection of
minerals, when she thought he must be brought to a standstill. Their
conductor began to describe them, when Brougham took the words out of
his mouth, and dashed off with as much ease and familiarity as if he had
been a Buckland or a Cuvier. Such is the man, a grand mixture of moral,
political, and intellectual incongruities."[117]

If the part which Brougham's position as attorney-general to Queen
Caroline obliged him to take at the memorable period of the "Bill of
Pains and Penalties" had not closed the door of professional advancement
against him, he had most effectually locked it against himself so long
as her husband lived by the intemperate and ill-judged language in which
he alluded to that event in the speech which he delivered at Edinburgh
on the 5th of April, 1825.[118] But Brougham was constantly on the watch
for its being opened, and on the very day when George the Fourth died,
that is to say on the 20th of June, 1830, he spoke in the House of
Commons in eulogistic terms of the new sovereign, praising him for
allowing the Speaker to take the oaths at an unusually early hour in
order to suit the convenience of members, a graceful act, which Mr.
Brougham declared he hailed as a happy omen of the commencement of an
auspicious reign. The astute K. C.'s object did not escape the
penetrating eye of HB, who forthwith represented him as _The Gheber
Worshipping the Rising Sun_, in whose smiling face we recognise the
unmistakable lineaments of William the Fourth. The sun proved not
unmindful of the attention; for, on the formation of Earl Grey's
ministry in 1830, Mr. Brougham was made Lord Chancellor, with the title
of Baron Brougham and Vaux. The appointment took the nation by surprise;
for although a consistent upholder of Whig principles, he had always
maintained a peculiar and independent position with his party, and was
expected to prove rather an embarrassment than otherwise. These
expectations were fully realized, and there can be no doubt that the
sentiments which Lord Brougham's bearing as Chancellor excited among his
colleagues and contemporaries, excluded him for the remainder of his
life from all official life and employment.

With all his wonderful powers, however, Lord Brougham could make, as
O'Connell asserted of him, as inconsiderate a speech as any man. One of
these speeches, which was delivered on the 14th of August, 1833, in a
debate on the bill for the abolition of slavery in the West Indies,
suggested to HB a happy subject. His lordship is reported to have said
that, "the object of the clause [then under discussion] was to make the
black, from the moment that he arrived on the shores of this country, a
free man in all respects: to make him eligible to sit in Parliament,
either in the House of Lords, if it should be his Majesty's pleasure to
give him a title to a seat, or in the other House if he should be
elected." HB, with his usual facility for seizing an idea, took his
lordship at his word, and forthwith elevated the emancipated "nigger" to
the woolsack, clothing him in the wig and gown of Lord Chancellor
Brougham, and giving him the features of the noble and learned lord
himself: this sketch bears the title of _A Select Specimen of the Black

The House of Lords was a lively place whilst my Lord Chancellor Brougham
was in office, and in the "scenes" in which he figured, and which drew
down upon him the hatred and resentment of his contemporaries, he not
unfrequently displayed a want of judgment which was nothing less than
lamentable. We might give many instances of these regrettable scenes,
but one shall suffice. On the 29th of September, 1831, the Lord
Chancellor made the following answer to a question put by the Marquis of
Londonderry:--"My lords," he said, "I beg to state to you once for all,
that I will not sit here to be _bothered_ with questions which emanate
from the ridiculous ideas of certain absurd individuals who cannot or
will not see anything, however clear, and seem lamentably incapacitated
by nature from comprehending what is going on. Moreover, I beg to state
to the noble marquis, that for the future I will answer no question of
his,--will give him no information whatever." The amazed patrician said
in reply, "As to the language which the noble and learned lord has
ventured to apply to me here, I will only say that I shall wish those
words to be repeated in another place." The Lord Chancellor rejoined
that he had said nothing which he was not prepared to repeat elsewhere;
and here the matter appears to have ended, for strange to say it was the
Marquis of Londonderry and not the irascible Brougham who subsequently
apologised, a circumstance which occasioned the artist's satirical and
telling sketch of _The Duel that did Not Take Place_. These scenes do
not appear to have been the result of any mere ebullition of temper; on
the contrary, Brougham would seem to have delighted in these
undignified exhibitions. "The Chancellor, who loves to unbosom himself
to Sefton, because he knows the latter thinks him the finest fellow
breathing, tells him that it is nuts to him to be attacked by noble
lords in the Upper House, and that they had better leave him alone if
they care for their own hides. Since he loves these assaults, last
night," continues Mr. Greville, "he got his bellyful, for he was baited
by a dozen at least, and he did not come out of the _mêlée_ so chuckling
and happy as usual."[119]

Parliament was dissolved on the 15th of August, 1834, and by that time
his party, the king, and everybody else, had grown pretty well tired of
Lord Chancellor Brougham. His head would seem to have been almost turned
by his success; for he employed the recess which followed the
prorogation in making a sort of royal progress through Scotland,
parading the Great Seal on his way, to the great disgust of the king,
who seriously thought he had taken leave of his senses, and protested
against it being carried across the border. In the course of this
strange progress he reached Inverness in the beginning of September,
1834, and was presented by the magistrates with the freedom of their
city. In returning thanks for this honour, Lord Brougham said he was
conscious "that it was not owing to any personal merits that he had
received this mark of distinction at their hands. First of all he owed
it to the circumstance that he had the honour of serving a monarch who
lived in the hearts of his subjects. He had enjoyed the honour of
serving that prince for nearly four years, and during that time he had
experienced from his Majesty only one series of gracious condescension,
confidence, and favour. To find that he lived in the hearts of his loyal
subjects in the ancient and important capital of the Highlands, as it
had afforded him (Lord Brougham) only pure and unmixed satisfaction,
would, he was confident, be so received by his Majesty, when he (Lord
Brougham) told him, _as he would by that night's post_ (cheers), of the
gratifying circumstances."[120] So far, however, from being gratified,
the bluff sailor king was tremendously annoyed. These fulsome
adulations, and the ridiculous manner in which his eccentric and
embarrassing Chancellor tortured any personal attention to himself
(Brougham) into a personal compliment to his royal master, thoroughly
disgusted him. For some weeks previously _The Times_ had attacked the
eccentric Chancellor with a constancy and vigour of satire quite
unexampled; the tide of ridicule was swelled by contributions from the
London and provincial press; Brougham made some foolish speeches at
Aberdeen and Dundee, which excited the laughter of his enemies and the
alarm of his friends. "Those who are charitably disposed," remarks the
unfriendly Greville, "express their humane conviction that he is mad,
and it probably is not very remote from the truth."

Intellectually strong as he was, a Chancellor so eccentric as this was
an _incubus_ to be got rid of at the first convenient opportunity. In
May, 1834, Mr. Stanley, Sir James Graham, the Earl of Ripon, and the
Duke of Richmond, seceded from the ministry; but the Whig party, in
spite of these resignations and the subsequent one of Lord Grey in July,
continued in office under Lord Althorp till the following November, when
the latter being called (by the death of his father) to the Upper House
as Earl Spencer, the king seized the opportunity which he had so long
desired of placing a less embarrassing and self-willed Chancellor on the
woolsack. This circumstance prompted the clever sketch of the _Fall of
Icarus_. Icarus in this instance is of course Brougham, who, flying in
defiance of the injunctions of Dædalus too near the sun--that is to say,
William the Fourth--the wax of his mechanical wings melted and he fell
into the sea. That there may be no mistake as to the artist's meaning,
the wings aforesaid are labelled with the titles of various publications
which were loudest in sounding the praises of the King and of the "noble
and learned lord," and to which he himself, with the questionable taste
which distinguished him, was reputed (with justice) to be a contributor.

Whether my Lord Chancellor Brougham caught the infection from his
client, Queen Caroline, we know not; but his conduct, whether in or out
of office, appears to have been of the most undignified character.
Ignoring the fact that his party were no longer in power, there is no
doubt whatever that he wrote a letter to his successor, Lord Lyndhurst,
actually suggesting his own nomination to Lyndhurst's vacant office of
Chief Baron of the Exchequer, thereby (as he pointed out) saving to the
public his own pension of ex-Chancellor. What his real motive may have
been is of little consequence; it was certainly a most undignified
proceeding, made the more undignified, if possible, because the proposal
was not accepted. It suggested to the artist one of his pictorial puns,
_The Vaux and the Grapes_, and to the Rev. Richard Harris Barham the
following amusing verses, which we have extracted from a contemporary
poetical skit:--

      "Then in Great Stanhope Street
      The confusion was great
  In a certain superb habi-tation,
      Where seated at tea,
      O'er a dish of Bohea,
  Brougham was quaffing his 'usual potation'
  (For you know his indignant ne-gation,
  When accused once of jollifi-cation),
      Down went saucer and cup,
      Which Le Marchant picked up,
  Not to hear his lord mutter 'd--n-ation.'

      But this greatest of men
      Soon caught hold of a pen,
  And, after slight delibe-ration,
      No longer he tosses
      His flexile proboscis
  About in so much exci-tation;[121]
  But scribbling with great ani-mation,
  He sends off a communi-cation:--
      'Dearest Lyndhurst,' says he,
      'Can't you find room for me
  When constructing your adminis-tration?

      Though the _Times_ says I'm mad,
      And each rascally Rad
  Abuses my tergiversation;
      Though those humbugs, the Whigs,
      Swear that my "thimble-rigs"
  Were the cause of all their vacill-ation;
  The whole story's a base fabri-cation
  To damage my great reputa-tion;
      So now to be brief,
      _Only make me Lord Chief_,
  And I'll serve without remuner-ation!'

      When he found 'twas 'no go,'
      And that Lyndhurst and Co.
  Were deaf to all solici-tation,
      As 'twas useless with Lyndy
      To kick up a shindy,
  He resolved upon peregrin-ation.
  Not waiting for much prepa-ration,
  He bolted with precipi-tation;
      A sad loss, I ween,
      To Charles Knight's magazine,
  And to Stinkomalee edu-cation."

Lord Brougham, indeed, by his despotic, intractable conduct, had
thoroughly shut himself out from all chance of office. Sir Robert Peel's
Conservative ministry lasted till April, 1835, when a second Whig
government came into power, under the premiership of Lord Melbourne, and
from the re-constructed cabinet, Brougham--much to his own surprise, but
to the surprise of no one else--was excluded.[122]


Irish disaffection was, unfortunately, as stale a subject in 1833 as in
1883. For what particular sins of her own England has been cursed with a
neighbour so bloodthirsty, so unreasonable, and so troublesome as
Ireland, it would be difficult to say. Although we had no Irish
Americans--no cowardly "dynamitards"--in those days, Ireland was
nevertheless in a state of chronic disaffection, and an "Irish Coercion
Bill" was found just as necessary to restrain the excitement of Irish
political malcontents in 1833 as in 1883. Irish history, in this respect
at least, has a method of repeating itself which is singularly
embarrassing, and the student of the history of Irish disaffection
cannot fail to be interested in the statement with which Lord Grey
introduced his measure fifty years ago. We learn from this statement
that a state of things existed little short of actual rebellion. Bodies
of men were collected and arrayed by signals, evidently directed by a
system of organization in which many were combined, and such system was
conducted in a manner which had hitherto set at defiance all the
exertions of law and order. The disturbers of the peace prescribed the
terms on which land was to be let, and any one who presumed to disobey
their orders was subject to have his property destroyed or be put to
death. The reign of terror was complete. The organization which supplied
the place of the Land League of to-day dictated what persons should
employ and be employed; and while they forbad labourers from working for
obnoxious masters on the one hand, they prevented a master on the other
from employing as labourers any but those who were obedient to their
orders. They enforced their decrees by acts of cruelty and outrage; by
spoliation, murder, attacks on houses in the dead of night; by dragging
the inmates from their beds and so maltreating them that death often
ensued, or by inflicting cruelties which were sometimes worse than
death. The persons belonging to this organization assembled by signals,
made concerted movements, watched the movements of the troops, and by
information received so avoided them that the military were rendered
practically useless.

The ordinary tribunals were powerless to arrest this iniquitous
organization of murder and terror, which the Irish disaffectants and
their advisers even in that day appear to have brought to a system of
execrable perfection. Witnesses and jurors were terrified into silence.
In one case the master of a female servant was commanded to dismiss her
because her _mother_ had given evidence against a person brought to
trial for a capital crime, and similar cases were of almost daily
occurrence. Five armed men went to the house of Patrick Lalor, a man of
nearly seventy years of age, and shot him through the body. His crime
had been disobedience to a mandate to give up some ground which he held
contrary to the will of the Terrorists. The same system prevented a son
of Lalor, and an eye-witness of his murder, from giving evidence against
his murderers. On the trial of these miscreants at Kilkenny assizes, the
jury not being able to agree was dismissed. It had been arranged in the
jury-room that nothing should transpire as to the opinions of individual
jurymen, and yet, in _half an hour_, the names of those in favour of an
acquittal or of a conviction were printed--the former in black, and the
latter, or as they were designated the "jurors who were for blood," in
red ink. The result was that those whose names were printed in red were
obliged to leave the country. At the Clonmel assizes the previous
October (1832), when a person was to be tried for resisting the payment
of tithe, only 76 jurors out of 265 who had been summoned made their
appearance. A gentleman had been murdered in sight of his own gate in
consequence of some dispute in connection with tithes. The answer of his
son-in-law, summoned by the coroner to give evidence against the
supposed murderer, was this: "That he would submit to any penalty the
crown or the law would impose upon him, but he would not appear at the
trial, because he knew that if he stood forward as a witness his life
would inevitably be forfeited." The Irish Government received a notice
from Kilkenny "that many gentlemen who had always" most conscientiously
discharged their duties, "would not attend at the next assizes. They
cared not what penalty was imposed upon them. They refused to attend,
because they knew that death" awaited them if they dared to do their
duty. "It is the boast of the prisoners," continued this document, "that
they cannot under existing circumstances be found guilty." Under such a
disgraceful state of things, outrage had become of course triumphant.
The sickening catalogue of Irish cruelty and crime during the previous
year comprised 172 homicides, 465 robberies, 568 burglaries, 455 _acts
of houghing of cattle_, 2,095 illegal notices, 425 illegal meetings, 796
_malicious injuries to property_, 753 _attacks on houses_, 280 arsons,
3,156 serious assaults, making an aggregate of crimes of every
description during the year, connected with the disturbed state of the
country, exceeding 9,000 in number, and the number was evidently still
on the increase.


The third reading of the Coercion Bill was carried in the Commons on the
29th of March, by 345 to 86, and the Act was to continue in force till
the 1st of August, 1834. It led of course to many scenes in the House
between English and Irish members, although the Irish members of that
day, to do them simple justice, had not graduated in the aggravated
system of obstruction they have since developed, and thereby earned for
themselves the character of political nuisances. One of these scenes led
to the sketch entitled _Prisoners of War_, which has reference to a
serio-comic interlude, in which the principal performers were Lord
Althorp and Mr. Shiel, member for Tipperary. On the 5th of February,
1834, Lord Althorp charged (without naming them) certain Irish members
who had particularly distinguished themselves by violent opposition to
the Bill in the House, with using very different language in reference
to it in private conversation. Up then rose one Irish member after
another, inquiring if he was the person alluded to. To Mr. O'Connell and
Mr. Finn the answer was in the negative, while Mr. Shiel was given
directly to understand that _he_ was one of the members intended, his
lordship declining at the same time to name his authority, but avowing
his belief in the truth of the story, and his willingness to take upon
himself the full responsibility. The result of course was a "scene." Mr.
Shiel, after the manner of fire-eating Irishmen of that day, having
hinted his intention to demand satisfaction elsewhere, Sir Francis
Burdett arose and said that, unless the "honourable members pledged
themselves to preserve the peace, he should instantly move that they be
committed to the custody of the Serjeant-at-arms." As neither of the
parties would give such assurance, the motion was put from the chair and
carried. The _Prisoners of War_ portrayed in the sketch are of course
Mr. Shiel and Lord Althorp. After a brief absence from the House, each
having given the required assurance was discharged from custody, and
there the matter ended. The benefits of the Act were almost immediately
made apparent. The association, which called itself, by the way, "The
Irish Volunteers" (the Land League of 1833), was promptly suppressed by
the Lord Lieutenant; and the list of offences during the month of March
which preceded and the month of May which followed the passing of the
Act most conclusively proved its efficiency, for, while in the former
month the records of crime in eleven counties reached a sum total of
472, they had declined in the latter month to 162.[123]


Irish agitators of the nineteenth century are all more or less "tarred
with the same brush," but the conditions under which an Irish agitator
of 1883-4 must be content to figure in that character are, it must be
remembered, widely different from those which influenced the agitators
of 1833. The Irish "Home Rulers" have sown the wind and have reaped the
whirlwind which carries them along in its progress, and we doubt whether
if they wished to stop the hideous Frankenstein they have created, it
would allow them to do so. The Home Rulers, however, are not in any way
to be pitied. Not content with Land League terrorism, they sought to
force their measures upon John Bull himself by an unheard-of system of
parliamentary obstruction, which has inevitably recoiled upon
themselves. O'Connell was far too sharp-sighted--far too intelligent and
clever a man to make so grave a mistake as this. By the sheer force of
his genius he exercised for many years of his life a most powerful
influence on English politics. He figures in one of John Doyle's
sketches in the character ascribed to him probably by most of his
contemporaries. In the sketch referred to, the Governor of Barataria is
represented by the typical Irish peasant; O'Connell appears in the
character of the Doctor; and Lord John Russell as the attendant and
amused servitor. Pat's eagerness to enjoy the good things he has been
led to expect, and his mortification at their being removed out of reach
and out of sight are ridiculously rendered.

We must not be misunderstood; although O'Connell had far greater
personal influence over the Irish than his successors, he was for all
that in political matters eminently unscrupulous.[124] At the general
election of 1835, the avowed principles on which he stood forth as a
candidate were: repeal of the union,--universal suffrage, vote by
ballot,--triennial parliaments,--and the abolition of tithes. "I am," he
said, "decidedly for the vote by ballot. Whoever votes by ballot votes
as he pleases, and no one need know how he votes." Yet, in spite of
these avowed principles, he controlled the election of Irish candidates
after the following fashion:--The Knight of Kerry started as a candidate
for his native county, but dared to avow his intention to take an
independent course. He had spent all his life in resisting Orangemen,
and yet O'Connell said, "Every one who dares to vote for the Orange
knight of Kerry shall have a death's head and cross-bones painted on his
door." The voters at the Irish elections were collected in the chapels
by the priests, and led forth to the poll under threats of being refused
all the rites and visited with all the punishments of their Church.
Under these influences, the Knight of Kerry, supported by nearly all the
property, intelligence, and respectability of the county, was defeated.
Of a candidate for New Ross who had refused to enlist under his banner,
O'Connell said, "Whoever shall support him his shop shall be deserted,
no man shall pass his threshold; put up his name as a traitor to
Ireland; let no man speak to him; let the children laugh him to scorn."
His example was followed of course by his lieutenants. It says something
for Irish independence that these unscrupulous "dodges" were not always
successful; and O'Connell himself, and his colleague, Mr. Ruthven,
secured their own seats by comparatively small majorities. At the
previous election O'Connell had obtained a majority of 1,549, and Mr.
Ruthven of 1,490 above the highest Conservative candidate: at the
election in 1835, O'Connell's majority had fallen to 217, and Mr.
Ruthven's to 169. The "Irish agitator" was manifestly no favourite with
HB, who depicted him as the comet of 1835. Comets being supposed by the
vulgar to portend disaster, it is represented as leaving Ireland in a
flame, and passing over St. George's Channel to exercise a malign
influence on peaceful England. The head of course is that of O'Connell,
while the tail is studded with the countenances of the Irish members who
made up his "following." In a previous sketch he had figured as the Wolf
to Lord John Russell's "Little Red Riding Hood," in allusion to a
statement made by the opposition journals that the Government had made a
league with the restless agitator with the view of securing his support
in the House of Commons. We have heard something very like this lately,
in relation to what is now known as the "Kilmainham Treaty."


The rapidity with which John Doyle caught an inspiration from a few
chance words in a speech, may be aptly illustrated by the manner in
which he served Sir Robert Peel. On the occasion of his being installed
Lord Rector of Glasgow University, in November, 1836, the distinguished
statesman made a speech to his patrons, in which he meant to tell them
that, admiring Scotland and Scottish scenery, he thought the best mode
of seeing both was on horseback instead of travelling in a public or
private conveyance. He expressed the idea, however, in the following
round-about fashion:--"I wished," he said, "to see something of Scotland
which I could not have seen from the windows of a luxurious carriage; I
wished to see other habits and manners of life than those which the
magnificent hospitable castles of the nobility presented. Yes," he
continued, "in Glasgow I hired an _humble but faithful steed_; I
travelled partly on horseback and partly on foot through almost every
county that lies southern of Inverness; I have read the map of Scotland
upon the great scale of nature, from the summits of Ben Nevis and Ben
Lomond; I have visited that island whence savage and roaming bands
derived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion. Yes,
amid the ruins of Iona I have abjured the rigid philosophy which would
conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground that has been
dignified by wisdom, by bravery, and by virtue. I have stood on the
shores of Staffa,--I have seen the temple not built with hands,--I have
seen the mighty swell of the ocean,--the waves of the great Atlantic
beating in its inmost recesses, and swelling notes of praise nobler than
ever pealed from human organs." Well, other tourists besides the
statesman have stood on the summit of Ben Nevis and Ben Lomond,--have
visited Staffa and Iona,--and yet, the rigid philosophy which Sir Robert
credited himself for abjuring, has unconsciously conducted them
comparatively "indifferent and unmoved" over much ground that may have
been "dignified by wisdom, by bravery," and even "by virtue." The
stilted remarks of Sir Robert will serve to remind some of us of the
very original sentiments we find recorded in "visitors' books" of sundry
home and continentals hotels much affected by members of the gushing
order of travellers. Some such idea seems to have struck the artist; for
in his next satire Sir Robert very deservedly figured as _Dr. Syntax
setting out on his Humble but Faithful Steed in Search of the

As a rule the titles of these sketches, which reach the amazing number
of nine hundred and seventeen, afford no clue whatever to their subject
matter. Here are the titles of a few, taken at random from the general
bulk:--_An Affair of Honour_; _A Group of Sporting Characters at Epsom_;
_A Nice Distinction, or a Hume-iliating Rejoinder to a Warlike Ap-Peel_;
_A Political Ruse_; _Swearing the Horatii_; _Retaliation_; _Goody Two
Shoes turned Barber_; _State Cricket Match_; _Taking an Airing in Hyde
Park_;--and so on. A description, however short, of the events to which
these "Political Sketches" refer, would occupy probably a couple of
volumes; and, following the course which we have hitherto adopted, we
have preferred to make selection of a few which seemed to us--either
from the persons satirized or the scenes in which they figure--likely
to interest the general reader. Thackeray said of them at the time they
were appearing, "You never hear any laughing at HB, his pictures are a
great deal too genteel for that,--polite points of wit which strike one
as exceedingly clever and pretty, and cause one to smile in a quiet,
gentlemanlike kind of way." Forty-two years have elapsed since this was
written;--the sketches fail now almost to provoke the "gentlemanlike
kind" of smile mentioned by the humourist, for the events and the
persons which caused it and to which they relate have alike passed away
out of sight and out of memory.


The number which they attained is due no doubt in a large measure to the
facility with which they were produced. They were all drawn on stone,
and exhibit the faults so often to be found in the productions of
artists who confine themselves to this material, which, owing to the
comparative facility of the process, has a tendency to induce a
slovenliness in execution unusual with artists accustomed to the careful
discipline under which a successful etching on steel or copper can alone
be produced. A writer in _Blackwood_[125] says with much truth that HB
"would have been a greater artist had he worked on the same material and
with the same tools as Gillray and Cruikshank, but we should probably
not have possessed so complete a gallery of portraits, comprising all
the men of note who took part in political affairs from before the
passing of the Catholic Relief Bill until after the repeal of the Corn
Laws, a period more eventful than any of a similar length since the
Revolution of 1688." John Doyle, too, had no great powers of sarcasm,
and he was timid in design, contenting himself with as few figures as
were possible for the purposes of his drawings. Robert William Buss,
himself a comic artist of ability, in his brief notice of him charges
him with a certain feebleness in the attitude of the persons who figure
in his sketches, and gives us to understand that to balance a figure
properly requires a knowledge and practice in drawing to which HB was a
stranger; and further, that by reason of the absence of such knowledge
and practice, he falls far behind Hogarth, Gillray, Bunbury, Rowlandson,
or the Cruikshanks. With these artists indeed, as we have endeavoured to
show, John Doyle has nothing in common, and he evidently designed that
no comparison should ever be instituted between any one of them and
himself. His chief merits are to be found in the facility with which he
grasped an idea; the harmlessness and playfulness of his satire, which
wrought a complete revolution in the style and manner of caricaturists;
and above all in the excellence of his likenesses. The best and most
graceful of the series was produced just after the wedding of her
Majesty, and is a transcript (as it were) of Stothard's beautiful design
of _The Procession of the Flitch of Bacon_, the leading personages being
the young Queen and the late Prince Consort, whose portraits are
admirably executed. Towards the close of the series they show signs of
failing power, not unnatural in an artist who during a course of twenty
years had produced upwards of a thousand drawings. I have seen it
somewhere stated that this deterioration dates from the period when the
identity of HB was discovered; but inasmuch as this secret had been
practically revealed long before the decadence commences, there is no
just ground for any such assumption.

The reputation of the "Political Sketches" was, however, ephemeral, and
considering their popularity and the eagerness with which they were
bought up at the time, it is surprising how completely they have passed
into oblivion. The name of HB, or of John Doyle, is now not only
"caviare to the general," but it is amazing how little until lately he
was known even to men not altogether ignorant on the subject of
satirical art. A gentleman to whom I am indebted for some valuable
information, tells me that some three or four years since "a large
number of _original_ sketches (not the engravings) were catalogued and
announced for sale at Christies'. I went," he says, "possibly to buy
several, but (and it is curious as showing the decadent interest in the
pictures) no sale took place, because I was told there was no one to
buy. I think," my informant adds, "that I was the only person, or
nearly the only person, in the room." Distinguished people, however, had
been to look at the drawings, and among them the late Lord Beaconsfield.

The success of the artist produced, of course, a number of imitators.
Their productions were of various degrees of merit; but like most
imitations they generally accentuated the faults without reproducing the
excellencies of the model. Some of them are entitled "Political Hits,"
"Royal Ramblings," "The Belgian Trip," "Parisian Trip," and so on; some
are signed "Philo H. B.," "H. H.," "B. H.," while others have neither
initials or signature. They comprise some eighty or a hundred plates at
least, many of which were probably suppressed, whilst others no doubt
served the useful purposes of the greengrocer, the bookbinder, or the
trunk-maker; and if, as we are told--

  "Imperial Cæsar, dead and turned to clay,
   Might stop a hole to keep the wind away;"

there can be nothing after all very dishonourable or very surprising in
their ultimate destination.

The artist died in 1868.


  [113] Annual Register, 1836, p. 237.

  [114] 1836, p. 244. Mr. Baldwin (one of the proprietors of the
    _Standard_ newspaper) stated that "if the bill passed in its present
    shape, it would deteriorate his property fifty per cent., and would
    operate in the same way with all property of that
    description."--_Ibid._, p. 247.

  [115] Greville's "Memoirs," pp. 3, 71.

  [116] In which Lord Brougham took a special interest.

  [117] Greville's "Memoirs," ii., p. 148.

  [118] For the silly and spiteful observations made in this speech,
    see "Annual Register," 1825, p. 43.

  [119] Greville's "Memoirs," iii. p. 85.

  [120] _Inverness Courier_, Sept. 3rd (quoted in "Annual Register,"
    1854, p. 129).

  [121] From a nervous habit he had contracted of twitching his nose
    Lord Brougham was known to his contemporaries by the nickname of
    "Jemmy Twitcher."

  [122] On this occasion the Great Seal was reserved and for the time
    put in commission, the commissioners being Sir Charles Pepys (Master
    of the Rolls), Vice Chancellor Shadwell, and Mr. Justice Bosanquet.
    Eventually it was presented to Sir Charles Pepys (Lord Cottenham),
    and the slight produced such a stunning effect on Brougham that he
    retired from active public life for a time, and sought solace in the
    pursuit and study of literature and philosophy.

  [123] For this interesting table, see "Annual Register," 1833, p. 83.

  [124] "One whose name is unconnected with any honourable action,
    whose whole life has been one scene of skulking from dangers into
    which he had drawn others, and who is occupied from one end of the
    year to the other in devising plans of drawing enormous fortunes from
    squalid beggary."--_Dr. Maginn._

  [125] Vol. xciv., August, 1863.



John Leech, "born in Bennett Street, Stamford Street, 29th August, 1817,
and baptized (son of John Leech, vintner) 15th November, at Christ
Church, Blackfriars Road." Such is the entry I find in the manuscript
diary of his friend the late Shirley Brooks, now before me, written a
few days after the death of the gifted and lamented artist. The "John
Leech, vintner," his father, here referred to, was at one time
proprietor of the London Coffee House on Ludgate Hill. A late
commentator says he "was an Irishman, a man of fine culture, a profound
Shakespearian scholar, and [presumably by way of apology--as if any such
were needed] a thorough gentleman." Be this as it may, he was not
successful as a landlord, and as a matter of fact depended in a great
measure for his support upon the talents of his remarkably gifted son.


Leech was only seven years old when his father sent him to the
Charterhouse. His arm had been broken by a fall from a pony, and the
effects of this accident debarred him from taking an active part in the
athletic sports of cricket, hockey, or football; but his nature inclined
him nevertheless to manly exercises, and despite his excellence with the
pencil, which was manifested at a remarkably early age, he is said to
have preferred the lessons of Angelo the fencing, to those of Burgess
the drawing, master. He was not distinguished at school as a classical
scholar, and Latin verses in particular proved so serious a
stumbling-block that he always got a schoolfellow to do them for him.
His famous friend and fellow-pupil, Thackeray, carried an indelible
personal reminiscence of the Charterhouse about him in the shape of a
broken nose, a mark of distinction which was earned in a pugilistic
encounter with another schoolfellow.

A reminiscence of John Leech's schoolboy days will be found in one of
his illustrations to "Once a Week,"[126] which represents a schoolboy
perched in the topmost branches of a tree overlooking the walls of the
Carthusian playground. As the mail coaches bound to the north passed the
Charterhouse walls in the old coaching days, the boys not seeing any
just reason why they should be debarred from the exhilarating spectacle,
notched the trees and drove in spikes at ticklish points, which enabled
them to mount to the upper branches, whence they could watch the coaches
at their leisure. The illustration referred to is labelled, _A Coach
Tree_, but without this explanation the reader would scarcely suspect
(the letterpress being of course silent on the subject) that the
schoolboy represented in the illustration is the artist himself. Leech
always retained a pleasant recollection of his old Carthusian
school-days, and frequently attended the festivities of the

His early aptitude for the pencil was developed when he was only three
years of age. One of his early efforts attracted the attention of
Flaxman the sculptor, who advised that he should "not be cramped with
lessons in drawing; let his _genius_," he said, "follow its own bent,
and he will astonish the world." This advice was so far followed, that
we believe we are justified in saying that beyond the ordinary
perfunctory drawing lessons obtained at school, he received no other
artistic education during the rest of his life. His father, the
"profound Shakesperian scholar" and "perfect gentleman," so little
encouraged the bent of the boy's genius, that if he had had his way he
would have driven this square peg into a very round hole. At sixteen
years of age he took his son from the Charterhouse, and shortly
afterwards apprenticed him to an eccentric person at Hoxton, nominally
carrying on the profession of a surgeon, and rejoicing in the name of

  JOHN LEECH. "_Illuminated Magazine._"


  _Face p. 278._]

This Whittle proved a perfect study to the young artist, and it is
possible that his connection with this eccentric personage had some
influence in deciding him not to follow a profession for which he had
but little sympathy. Whittle was a man of large frame and muscular
development, so far at least as the upper part of his body was
concerned, but the development extended no farther, his legs being
formed on much more slender proportions. His tastes were decidedly
athletic; he had rings let into the wall for the purpose of practising
gymnastics, and delighted in posing before his amused pupils in the
character of "The Dying Gladiator," "Hercules," and other antique
statues. The few patients he possessed had small chance of professional
attendance when Mr. Whittle was in training for a walking or running
match, or any other amateur athletic engagement. "When," says Shirley
Brooks, "lady patients, taking a walk, are suddenly surrounded by a
hurrying and shouting crowd, in the middle of which, as they escape,
they behold their medical adviser, in quaint attire, rushing to pick up
stones with his mouth, an early termination of the relations between the
healer and his patients is not impossible."[127] A person of this kind
was obviously out of his element in a _learned_ profession, and this
Whittle eventually recognised, and descended to his level by marrying
one of his patients, a widow who kept a neighbouring public. He found
himself more "at home" behind the bar in his shirt sleeves, and with
ready facility adapted himself to circumstances by drawing beer for his
former pupils and patients. Various stories have been told of this
eccentric personage, who is said (with what truth we know not) to have
commenced life as a Quaker, and ended it eventually as a missionary.


Whittle the eccentric was afterwards immortalized by Leech as "Rawkins"
in Albert Smith's "Adventures of Mr. Ledbury," which made their
appearance in "Bentley's Miscellany." We cannot advise those who would
enjoy a hearty laugh to do better than refer to Leech's comical etchings
of _The Return of Hercules from a Fancy Ball_ (on a wet night, without
his latchkey), and the _Last Appearance of Mr. Rawkins in Public_, in
which the _rencontre_ of Mr. Whittle and some of his female patients
already referred to is superbly realized.

When Mr. Whittle and his practice had finally parted company in the
manner we have described, John Leech's indentures were transferred to
Dr. John Cockle, afterwards physician to the Royal Free hospital. During
part of his spasmodic medical course, he went through the mystic
performance at one time known as "walking the hospitals," and at St.
Bartholomew's varied his attendance at the anatomical lectures of Mr.
Stanley--where he met other square pegs intended for round holes, Albert
Smith and Percival Leigh--with sketches of his fellow-pupils and their
medical lecturers. Many of these, the earliest of his sketches, were in
the possession of his friend, the late Mark Lemon. Before his time was
out, Leech luckily resolved to throw his medical studies to the winds,
and to live wholly by the practice of his art.

His first work, published when he was eighteen years of age, was
entitled "Etchings and Sketchings by A. Pen, Esq.," and consisted of
four quarto sheets, containing slightly caricature sketches of oddities
of London life, such as cabmen, policemen, street musicians, and the
like. He next tried his hand at lithography, and produced some political
satires not without ability; but these at best were merely the tentative
efforts of an artist who had not yet discovered the bent of his genius,
in consequence of being compelled to accommodate himself to the standard
of his early patrons--the printsellers. Having drawn his design, Leech
has been known in those early times to spend a weary day in search of a
buyer, by carrying the heavy stone about with him from publisher to
publisher. The style of these tentative efforts may be judged by the
work which first brought him into notice, a poor caricature of
Mulready's envelope in commemoration of the establishment of Sir Rowland
Hill's cheap postage system, a reproduction of which will be found in a
late "Biographical Sketch" by Mr. Kitton.[128] Although the pecuniary
reward of this early effort was small, people began to ask by whom it
was executed; thus it was that his subsequently well-known mark, the
leech-bottle, first came into public notice.

Specimens of these tentative efforts are of course scarce, but
occasionally the reader may fall in with odd numbers of the
"Comicalities," issued some half century ago by the proprietors of
"Bell's Life," in which may be found specimens of his early work among
impressions from the designs on wood of Kenny Meadows, "Phiz," and even
Robert Seymour.[129] Among these early efforts may also be named "The
Boys' Own Series"; "Studies from Nature"; "Amateur Originals"; the "Ups
and Downs of Life, or the Vicissitudes of a Swell"; and other etcetera.

When poor Seymour shot himself in 1836, the artist who was at first
selected to fill his place as illustrator of "Pickwick" was Robert
William Buss, who, failing however to supply the requirements of Charles
Dickens, was (as we shall afterwards see) quickly discarded. Others,
however, had applied to supply the place of the deceased artist, and
among them were Hablot Knight Browne ("Phiz"), W. M. Thackeray, and John
Leech; although the latter failed to secure the appointment, he appears
to us of all others the one best fitted to pictorially interpret the
author's creations. Thackeray was so little conscious of the bent of his
own genius that he seems at this time to have had some thoughts of
following the profession of an artist, but happily failed so completely
that he was induced to follow up his alternative art of authorship, by
which he achieved his fame and reputation. Notwithstanding his failure,
his implicit faith in his own artistic powers remained unshaken to the
end, in which belief he has been followed by one or two writers who
might have known better.

It is not until 1840 that we find Leech had matured the style and manner
which afterwards made him famous; and accordingly, in this year we find
designs which are thoroughly worthy of his reputation. Among these may
be named "The Children of the Mobility," seven lithographs (reproduced
in 1875) dealing with the humorous and pathetic episodes of the London
street arabs; "The Comic Latin Grammar"; "The Comic English Grammar";
and a now exceedingly rare _jeu d'esprit_, bearing the full title of
"The Fiddle-Faddle Fashion Book and Beau Monde a la Française, enriched
with numerous highly coloured figures of lady-like gentlemen,"[130] a
most amusing skit upon the absurd fashion books of the period,
containing four coloured plates of gentlemen (more than fifty figures)
in male and female costume, posed in the ridiculous and well-known
simpering style of those periodicals. All these works were produced in
conjunction with Percival Leigh, one of the artist's fellow-students at
St. Bartholomew's, and led directly to his engagement on the pages of
_Punch_, which was started the following year.

Among the rarer works published in 1840, to which John Leech contributed
the benefit of his assistance, may be mentioned a publication, entitled
"The London Magazine, Charivari, and Courier des Dames" (Simpkin,
Marshall & Co.), in which we find some portraits and other work
altogether out of the range of his usual style of illustration. The tone
of this publication was personal in the extreme. Charles Dickens had
produced (among other publications) his "Pickwick Papers," "Oliver
Twist," "Nicholas Nickleby," and at this time was engaged on the most
touching and pathetic of his stories, "The Old Curiosity Shop," which
was, however, so little appreciated by the editor of this scurrilous
publication, that we find him perpetrating the following sorry libel on
the writer and three of his contemporaries: "To cheesemongers and
others! Ready for delivery, at a halfpenny per pound, forty tons of
foundered literature; viz., Mrs. Trollope's 'Unsatis-factory Boy,'[131]
'Master Humphrey's Clock' (refer to the second meaning in 'Johnson's
Dictionary': 'an unsightly crawling thing'!), Captain Marryat's 'Alas,
Poor Jack'! and _Turpis_ Ainsworth's 'Guy _Fox_':--

  'An animal cunning, unsavoury, small,
  That will dirty your hands if you touch it at all.'"

So little merit had this critical periodical itself, that some rare
etchings by Hablot Knight Browne and Leech to a novel entitled "The
Diurnal Revolutions of David Diddledoff," which appeared in its pages,
failed to keep the dreary serial alive, and a quarrel ensuing between
the proprietors and himself, Browne was dismissed and Leech supplied his
place. Leech's caricature of Mulready's postage envelope, already
mentioned, appears to have led to others, and among them one by "Phiz,"
a circumstance which is referred to in the following attack: "Phiz has
found a lower deep in the lowest depths of meanness. When Leech's
admirable caricature of Mulready's postage envelope was pirated by every
tenth-rate _sketcher_, Phiz steps in to complete the work of injustice,
and advertises his caricature of the same subject at _sixpence_, thus
both borrowing the design and underselling the artist upon whose brains
he is preying as the fly upon the elk's. Well might Leech exclaim, 'Et
tu, Brute!' (and you, you brute!) Leech is a genuine artist, while Phiz
is only a bad engraver." By way of answer to this vulgar abuse, Phiz
almost immediately afterwards produced his admirable illustration of
_Quilp and the Dog_, in No. 18 of "Master Humphrey's Clock."

In the pages of this defunct periodical we find a long and virulent
article on Benjamin D'Israeli, the late Lord Beaconsfield, from which we
have disinterred the following remarkable prophecy. After referring to
his celebrated parliamentary _fiasco_, and his own prophetic words on
that memorable occasion: "You won't hear me now; but the time will come
when you _shall_ hear me!" the writer goes on to say: "That time has
never since arrived. In vain did Benjamin parody Sheridan's celebrated
saying ('It's in me, and by G---- it shall be out of me!'). He renewed
his efforts repeatedly.... But though, in consequence of his (_sic_)
moderating his tone into a semblance of humility, he is sometimes just
listened to, he has never made the slightest impression in the house,
_and we may fairly predict he never will_." The article is illustrated
by a remarkable semi-caricature likeness of the late Lord Beaconsfield,
then in his thirty-second year, which, although unsigned and altogether
different from his well-known style, we can assign to no other hand than
that of John Leech. We found our opinion on the fact that the previous
portrait is by him; that none but his etchings appear in the latter
portion of the book; and because the bird represented following the
footsteps and mimicking the walk of the young statesman, is own brother
to the celebrated Jackdaw of Rheims immortalized by Thomas Ingoldsby. So
remarkable is the likeness, that the shadow of D'Israeli's follower and
that of Saint "Jem Crow" of the Legends are identical.


In 1840 some of John Leech's sketches were brought to the notice of the
Rev Thomas Harris Barham, which led to his engagement on the pages of
"Bentley's Miscellany," from which moment his artistic position was
secured. His first illustration was _The Black Mousquetaire_. Barham in
describing the scene, regretted, oddly enough, that he had neither the
pencil of Fuseli or Sir Joshua Reynolds at command, or had himself taken
lessons in drawing:--

        "Had I done so, instead
        Of the lines you have read,
  I'd have given you a sketch should have filled you with dread!
  François Xavier Auguste squatting up in his bed,
        His hands widely spread,
        His complexion like lead,
  Ev'ry hair that he had standing up on his head,
  As when, Agnes des Moulins first catching his view,
  Now right and now left, rapid glances he threw,
  Then shriek'd with a wild and unearthly halloo,
        _Mon Dieu! v'là deux!!_
        By the Pope there are two!!!"

Leech continued on the pictorial staff of "Bentley's Miscellany" ten
years; his etchings therein commence with vol. viii. (1840) and
(practically) end with vol. xxv. (1849).[132] Altogether he contributed
to this sterling periodical some one hundred and forty etchings,
illustrating (amongst numerous scattered papers) "The Ingoldsby
Legends" (with Cruikshank); Henry Cockton's "Stanley Thorn"; Charles
Whitehead's "Richard Savage"; Albert Smith's "Adventures of Mr.
Ledbury," "Fortunes of the Scattergood Family," and "The Marchioness of
Brinvilliers"; W. H. Maxwell's "Brian O'Linn," etc., etc.

From the time that he joined the _Punch_ staff, in 1841, the life of
John Leech was one of well-earned prosperity and happiness. His income
at first gradually and then rapidly increased, and he moved from the
attic which he occupied in the vicinity of Tottenham Court Road, into a
house of his own at Notting Hill. Shortly after this he married. Miss
Ann Eaton was one of those English beauties that Leech delighted to
draw; and it is related of him that he first met her walking in London,
and, following her home, noted the house in which she lived, ascertained
her name, procured an introduction, and straightway married her. The
issue of this marriage was two children--a boy and a girl. The
former--John George Warrington Leech, the miniature counterpart of his
father in appearance and dress, and inheriting in a marvellous degree
his talent for drawing--was unfortunately drowned at South Adelaide in

Leech's hand appears for the first time in the fourth number of _Punch_
(7th August, 1841),[133] to which he contributed the well-known
full-page illustration of _Foreign Affairs_. His first cartoon, _A
Morning Call_, will be found at page 119 of vol. ii., and the reader
will find it worth his while to refer to it for the purpose of comparing
it with the later and better work with which he afterwards enriched the
pages of this famous serial, which mainly through his instrumentality
was steered into the current of prosperity which carried it--after a
time of considerable doubt and perplexity--[134] steadily onwards. One
of _Punch's_ most celebrated contributors has borne testimony to the
value of his services. "Mr. Punch," says Thackeray in reviewing his
friend's contributions in 1854, "has very good reason to smile at the
work and be satisfied with the artist. Mr. Leech, his chief contributor,
and some kindred humourists with pencil and pen, have served Mr. Punch
admirably.... There is no blinking the fact that in Mr. Punch's cabinet
John Leech is the right-hand man."[135] That this was true is proved by
the fact that during his connection with _Punch_, extending over a
period of three and twenty years, he executed no less than three
thousand pictures, of which at least six hundred are cartoons.[136] No
wonder that when he lay dead, Shirley Brooks--another valued
contributor, and afterwards editor of _Punch_--mournfully acknowledged
that the good ship had lost its "mainsail."[137]


Most admirable examples of his designs on wood will be found in the
first three volumes of "The Illuminated Magazine," a delightful serial
which appeared in 1843-4, which also contains a series of etchings on
copper of unusual size and brilliancy. Associated with him on the pages
of this periodical, which is now seldom met with, were his friends
Thomas Hood and Mark Lemon, Douglas Jerrold and Laman Blanchard, Albert
Smith and Angus Bethune Reach, Samuel Lover and Kenny Meadows. The world
was young with authors and artists alike in those days; the youngest of
the band were William Hepworth Dixon, then aged twenty-two; John Leech,
twenty-six; and Wilkie Collins, literally not "out of his teens," one of
whose earliest literary productions we find here under the title of "The
Last Stage Coachman," illustrated by Hine. In these volumes appeared
Douglas Jerrold's delightful allegory of the "Chronicles of Clovernook,"
to which the veteran Kenny Meadows contributed some of the most quaint
and original of his sketches.

  JOHN LEECH. "_Illuminated Magazine._"


  _Face p. 286._]

John Leech's portrait appears in three of the _Punch_ sketches--two only
of which are due to his own hand; the first in January, 1846, in one
wherein a servant maid is depicted as saying, "If you please, sir,
here's the printer's boy called again;" again, in January, 1847, where
we find him playing the clarionet as one of the orchestra at _Mr.
Punch's Fancy Ball_. Other performers are--Mayhew, cornet; Percival
Leigh, double bass; Gilbert à Beckett, violin; Richard Doyle, clarionet;
Thackeray, piccolo; Tom Taylor, piano; while Mark Lemon, the conductor,
appeals to Jerrold to somewhat moderate his assaults on the drum.
Another hand portrays him seven years later, as armed with a porte
crayon he rides his hobbyhorse at an easel which does duty for a hurdle,
Jerrold is playing skittles, Thackeray holds the bat at a game of
cricket, and Mark Lemon is engaged at rackets.


Amongst the early _literary_ contributors to _Punch_ were Mark Lemon,
Horace Mayhew, Gilbert à Beckett, Stirling Coyne, W. H. Wills, H. P.
Grattan, Douglas Jerrold, Percival Leigh, and Dr. Maginn. Albert Smith
joined the staff through the introduction of his friend Leech; Thackeray
was a later acquisition, in 1844. It was scarcely to be expected that
the brilliant and the lesser wits who shed their lustre on the early
volumes of _Punch_, and were brought together at the weekly council
dinners, would invariably agree;--Jerrold and Thackeray, for instance,
entertained a sort of constitutional antipathy to one another, and the
latter, it must not be forgotten, was (in the words of Anthony Trollope)
"still struggling to make good his footing in literature" at the time he
joined the ranks of the _Punch_ parliament. Jerrold could not veil his
contempt for Albert Smith, angrily asking Leech at one of the _Punch_
gatherings, with reference to the former's free and easy method of
addressing his friend, "Leech, how long is it necessary for a man to
know you before he can call you 'Jack'?" When À Beckett announced his
"Comic History of England," in 1846, the strong mind of Jerrold recoiled
in horror from what he deemed a sacrilege. Writing to Charles Dickens in
reference to the announcement, he said, "After all, life has something
serious in it. It cannot be _all_ a Comic History of Humanity. Some men
would, I believe, write the Comic Sermon on the Mount. Think of a Comic
History of England! The drollery of Alfred! the fun of Sir Thomas More
in the Tower! the farce of his daughter begging the dead head, and
clasping it in her coffin, on her bosom! Surely the world will be sick
of this blasphemy!" "The Comic History of England" appeared,
notwithstanding, and was followed afterwards by the "Comic History of
Rome;" and however we may sympathize with the honest indignation of
Jerrold, and condemn the questionable taste of À Beckett, we have at
least to thank the latter for some of the drollest and most original
designs which ever emanated from the pencil of John Leech.

The eccentric and original costumes in which he draped the classical
characters of Rome appear to have been a favourite idea with the artist.
Shirley Brooks relates that he first made his acquaintance at a fancy
ball given at the house of their mutual friend, the late John Parry.
"Leech's costume," says the late editor of _Punch_, "I well remember. It
was something like Charles Mathews, as chorus to Medea. The black
trousers and patent leather boots of decorous life were below; but above
was the classic tunic. Then in addition he wore a fine new hat, round
which, instead of around his head, was the laurel wreath; and the Greek
ideal was brought into further discomfiture by a pair of spectacles and
an exceedingly neat umbrella." This comical idea will be found
ridiculously amplified in his amazing designs to "The Comic History of


Medical student, novelist, dramatist, humourist, and showman--for some
of us still remember his diorama of "The Overland Route"--the most
fortunate venture of Albert Richard Smith (to give him his full name)
was his ascent of Mont Blanc, which formed the theme of a
well-remembered lecture, in which his perils amid rocky pinnacle,
snow-field, and glacier lost nothing by the graphic mode in which they
were related. This "ascent," by the way, proved a source of profit to
others besides himself; and we should be curious to know the number of
Chamounix guides and hotel-keepers who were enabled through his indirect
means to retire into private life. The memory of Albert Smith is
deservedly cherished by the inhabitants of the distant Savoyard valley,
for he made the ascent of the "Monarch of Mountains" popular among his
countrymen, and thereby sowed the seed of a succession of golden
harvests, of which the primitive but thoroughly wide-awake peasantry
were by no means slow to profit. Dissimilar in many respects, Albert
Smith and John Leech had this bond of sympathy between them, that both
were old friends, and both had nominally studied for the medical
profession; and whilst Leech attained at St. Bartholomew's that
practical knowledge of anatomical drawing which did him such good
service in his artistic career, Albert Smith at Middlesex Hospital and
the _Hotel Dieu_ appears to have picked up that intimate acquaintance
with London and Parisian student life which he displays in the
"Adventures of Mr. Ledbury."

The "New Monthly" for 1844 contains two etchings by Leech to "The Lord
of Thoulouse" and "The Wedding Day," which seem to call for notice,
because they are not to be found in the collected edition of the
"Ingoldsby Legends." In the collected edition he shows us little Jack
Ingoldsby _before_ he entered the fatal cellar, while in the "New
Monthly" we see him lying dead at the feet of the weird buccaneer, who
points with grim irony at the little corpse by way of caveat to those
who would broach his wine. From the "New Monthly" etching George
Cruikshank borrowed the idea for his illustration of the same subject in
the 1864 edition. There is a difference, of course, but the fact will
become ridiculously patent to any one who has an opportunity of
comparing the two designs. This, by the way, is not the only instance in
the '64 edition in which Cruikshank borrowed his idea from John
Leech,[138] which at one time he would have scorned to do, a fact which
affords the strongest possible evidence of the decadence of George's
once unrivalled powers of invention, imagination, and fancy.

Leech it will be remembered obtained a footing on the staff of
"Bentley's Miscellany" at the time when George Cruikshank was leaving
it. Cruikshank, however, was an admirer of the genius of Leech, and when
they laid him in his untimely grave in Kensal Green Cemetery, on the 4th
November, 1864, the veteran artist was among the crowd of distinguished
men who looked sorrowfully on. The influence which George Cruikshank
exercised upon the genius of Leech will be apparent to any one who has
given attention to the early etchings of the latter. This influence will
be particularly discernible in the illustrations to "Richard Savage" and
"The Marchioness of Brinvilliers." Both were men of genius, but Leech's
fancy was of a tamer kind, and little inclined him in the direction of
the supernatural or the terrible. Leech, for instance, never produced
anything which equalled _Fagin in the Condemned Cell_; _The Murder of
Sir Rowland Trenchard_; _Xit Wedded to the Scavenger's Daughter_; _Jack
o' Lantern_; or the reverie of the _Triumph of Cupid_. We shall find but
few diabolicals in his gallery of pictorial subjects, notwithstanding
which there is not a fiend in the whole of Cruikshank's demon ranks who
equals Leech's devil in Thomas Ingoldsby's legend of "The

It may seem invidious to institute a comparison between the two men.
Some, indeed, may hold that a comparison is impossible; but we will
quickly show that such a comparison is not only possible but
unavoidable. George Cruikshank, for instance, might or might not have
illustrated the "Comic Histories" of England and of Rome better than
John Leech; we may fancy, however, his hand on the Surtees' novels, the
odd men, the strange coats, the eccentric women, the podgy "cockhorses,"
the wonderful dogs that would have put in an appearance in the various
sporting scenes and incidents which form the subject of these "horsey"
romances; we should like, for instance, to see what he would have made
of the pretty serving woman who figures in the frontispiece of "Ask
Mamma;" how he would have treated the fair "de Glancey"; how he would
have grouped and dressed his figures at _The Handley Cross Ball_; how he
would have treated poor old Jorrocks when he fell into the shower bath.
But, admirable as are Leech's book illustrations and etchings, it is in
the minor designs which he executed for _Punch_ during the short quarter
of a century allotted to him that we must seek for Leech's _genius_: it
is these little drawings which place him in the front rank of nineteenth
century graphic satirists. They are characterized by genuine humour and
satire, unalloyed with a single trace of ill-humour, exaggeration, or
vulgarity. It was in this direction that the artistic instincts of poor
Robert Seymour inclined him; but his imagination and invincible tendency
to exaggerate, inherited from the caricaturists who preceded him, failed
to bear him beyond the limited sphere of cockney sports and cockney
sportsmen in which his soul delighted. Here, we have the swells and
vulgarians, the flunkies and servants, the old men and maidens, the
soldiers, the parsons, the pretty women of English everyday life, placed
in situations more or less embarrassing, but presenting nevertheless
perfect types of the respective classes thus harmlessly and admirably
satirized. In this lies their chief value, and as years roll on and the
_Punch_ volumes become scarce, this value will necessarily increase.


A shy and unobtrusive member of the society in which he moved, and which
delighted in the enjoyment of his friendship, John Leech was the keenest
of observers, noting and satirizing as no one before his time had
attempted, or indeed had been able to do, the cant and hypocrisy, the
pride and selfishness, the upstart and arrogant exclusiveness, the
insular prejudices and weaknesses, which form a part of our national
character; but doing this, he loved his countrymen and countrywomen for
their finer qualities, and hated the bungling foreigners who presume to
caricature them without the barest knowledge of their subject. This is
the secret of the hearty abhorrence which Leech always testified for
Frenchmen. The ignorance of his countrymen on the subject of English
women has been amusingly ridiculed by one of the most distinguished of
their own writers--Eugene Sue, in his novel of "Mathilde":--"_That_ an
Englishwoman! Nonsense; there is nothing more easy to recognise than an
Englishwoman; you have only to look at her dress; it is simple enough,
in all conscience! A straw bonnet all the year through; a pink spencer;
a Scotch plaid petticoat, and bright green or lemon-coloured boots; you
may see the costume any day in _Les Anglaises pour rire_, at the
_Variétés_. We all know it is a Vaudeville, and it would not be publicly
acted unless it were authentic. I repeat it once more, ever since this
world has been a world, Englishwomen--real genuine Englishwomen--have
never been differently dressed." M. Taine, who devoted himself to the
study of our language and literature, and spent much time amongst us,
has (if I remember rightly) admitted the errors which prevail amongst
his countrymen and women with reference to ourselves; but such observers
as M. Taine and M. Sue are unfortunately rare in France, and many have
essayed to depict us, with as much knowledge of their subject as our Sir
John Maundeville possessed when he sat down to write his absurd but
quaint and amusing "Book of Voiage and Travaile." John Leech resented
this deplorable ignorance on the part of our neighbours; and the _Punch_
volumes are filled with biting sarcasms on French habits, manners, and
sentiments, which were keenly felt, because, unlike the English who
figure at the Variétés or in French caricatures, in the dirty men who
regard with astonishment the English washstand at the exhibition, the
cabs full of hirsute monstrosities, the "Flowers of the French army,"
the grimy Revolutionists of Leicester Square--the hundred and one
Frenchmen who figure in the satires of John Leech, the Parisian
recognises compatriots whose ridiculous lineaments have been too
faithfully reproduced to render identification a matter of doubt or

Leech executed very few illustrations for Dickens; and the amusing
blunder which he perpetrated in "The Battle of Life," in allowing the
lady to elope with the wrong man, and the "horror and agony" of the
author in consequence thereof, have been set forth in Forster's "Life."
The mistake was discovered too late for correction, and remains a
curious proof of the carelessness with which distinguished artists will
sometimes read the manuscript of an author however illustrious.

  JOHN LEECH. "_Illuminated Magazine._"


  _Face p. 292._]

The Surtees' novels afford singular evidence of the keenness of John
Leech's critical observation. An ardent lover of sport himself, and a
frequent attendant at the "Pytchley," when he went a day's hunting it
was his custom to single out some fellow disciple of Nimrod that
happened to take his fancy, keeping behind him all day, noting his
attitudes in the saddle, and marking every item of his turn-out, to the
last button and button-hole of his hunting coat. It was in this way that
he obtained the correctness of detail which renders his famous sporting
etchings so wonderfully true to nature. Strange to say, notwithstanding
his knowledge of every detail of the huntsman's dress, even to the
number of buttons on his coat, he himself, with reference to his own
outfit, invariably presented in the hunting field a somewhat incongruous
appearance. Either he would wear the wrong kind of boots, or would
dispense with some detail which on the part of an enthusiast would be
considered an unpardonable omission. Leech, however, was not what is
called a "rough rider," his constitutional nervousness prevented him
indeed from making a prominent figure in the hunting field, and his
friends attributed this want of attention to detail in dress to his
sensitiveness to criticism, and his unwillingness to place himself in
any position which would be likely to incur it.


  [126] Vol. iii., 1860.

  [127] Shirley Brooks in the _Illustrated London News_, 19th Nov.,

  [128] George Redway, 12, York Street, Covent Garden.

  [129] They include also some (pirated) impressions from the designs
    of George Cruikshank, which set that irritable genius, as might have
    been expected, in a fume.

  [130] Chapman & Hall, 186, Strand, 1st November, 1840.

  [131] "Adventures of Michael Armstrong, the Factory Boy."

  [132] He subsequently returned to it for a short time only.

  [133] The serial commenced 17th July, 1841.

  [134] That this was the case, see Mr. Joseph Hatter's "With a Show in
    the North;" see also a remarkable letter of Mr. William Tegg in the
    _Athenæum_ of 16th October, 1875.

  [135] Thackeray in the _Quarterly_.

  [136] I calculate that the minor drawings number about 2,500; if to
    these we add 638 cartoons, we get a sum total of over 3,100
    illustrations for _Punch_ alone. If we say nearly 1,000 for Mr.
    Surtees' sporting novels, without taking into account Leech's other
    work, we may form some notion of his untiring industry.

  [137] MS. Diary of Shirley Brooks (October 31st, 1864).

  [138] Compare, for instance, Leech's _Black Mousquetaire_ in the
    original edition with Cruikshank's reproduction of the same subject
    in the '64 edition.



We have seen that at the time John Leech commenced work as a comic
artist, the art of caricature was practically dead; it was not therefore
at all surprising, under the circumstances, that he should reverse, as
it were, the order of things: commence as an illustrator of books, and
finish his career as a graphic humourist. Although his first
contribution to _Punch_ commences in the fourth number, his cartoons so
called (from which, in accordance with the plan of this work we now
proceed to select a few examples) seem to us to call for little mention
before the year 1843.


His Royal Highness Prince Albert, who held high rank in the British army
by virtue of his exalted position, was most unjustly suspected in those
early _Punch_ days of a desire to interfere unduly with its
administration. He took, however, much interest in the dress and comfort
of the British soldier; and those who remember what military costume was
in 1843, will admit that there was room for improvement. Changes were
made indeed, but these changes can hardly be said to have been made in
the direction of either comfort, convenience, or good taste. The "Albert
hat" (as it was called), one of the ugliest, most ungainly, and
preposterous of military shakoes that was ever invented, made its
appearance about this time, and the idea was credited (rightly or
wrongly) to the amiable prince. Constant reference to this preposterous
invention is made in the pages of _Punch_, and the prince's questionable
taste in the matter of military costume is specially satirized in
Leech's amusing cartoon entitled _Prince Albert's Studio_.

Mr. O'Connell, at a great Repeal meeting held in September, 1843, had
expressed a hope that he should be able to give his dupes "as a new
year's gift a parliament on College Green." No one knew better than
himself the absurdity of such a promise. Had he named the first of April
for the presentation instead of the first of January, it would have been
more appropriate, and at least equally veracious. A great Repeal meeting
was intended to be held in October at Clontarf, three miles from Dublin,
at which certain supporters of the movement were to have attended on
horseback and paraded in the character of the "Repeal Cavalry." This
meeting the Irish executive prohibited by proclamation, and on the 14th,
O'Connell and other prominent leaders were arrested, and held to bail on
a charge of conspiracy. On the 24th of May, 1844, the Irish judges
sentenced him to twelve months' imprisonment, and a fine of £2,000. The
cartoon of _The Probable Effects of Good Living and no Exercise_ refers
to this result; but _Punch_ on this occasion was wrong. O'Connell proved
"too many" for the Irish lawyers. He appealed by writ of error to the
Lords, and on the 4th of September the judgment was reversed.[139] Sir
James Graham, the Home Secretary, and the government to which he
belonged, had encountered much odium in consequence of the opening of
certain letters which had passed through the post office. The result was
the appointment of a Committee of Secrecy by both Houses to inquire into
the official practice, and it would appear from their report that every
administration had been in the habit of exercising this espionage under
the authority of a warrant of the Secretary of State. The sins of the
past as well as of the present were visited on the head of Sir James,
who sought to throw the responsibility on higher powers; and in
reference to this, Sir James Graham and Sir Robert Peel figure
respectively as _Sairey Gamp_ and _Betsey Prig_, after Phiz's well-known
drawing. Sir James indeed seemed to have had rather a facility for
getting himself into trouble. There was much excitement in and out of
the House with reference to the additional grant to Maynooth College. In
the course of the debates, Sir James Graham retracted an expression
which he said had fallen from him in the heat of debate, viz. that
concession in favour of Ireland had reached its utmost limit, and hoped
that his actions had proved better than his words. Among the subsequent
cartoons by Leech, he figures as _Peel's Dirty Little Boy_. "Drat the
boy," says Dame Peel (as she chastises him), "he's _always_ in a mess."
Towards the close of the debate two remarkable speeches were delivered
by Lord John Russell and Sir Robert Peel, both of whom concurred in the
necessity of a conciliatory policy towards Ireland. This _rapprochement_
between the two leaders of the opposite camps, and the leanings of Sir
Robert in the direction of a Liberal policy, are referred to in Leech's
cartoons of _How do you Like the New Whig?_ and the _Premier's Fix_
(Peel between Free Trade and Protection), the last borrowed from one of
Cruikshank's drawings. _The Railway Juggernaut of 1845_ (also suggested
by Cruikshank's well-known etching), refers to the then mania for
dabbling in railway shares.

Between the two stools of Free Trade and Protection, Sir Robert, as
might have been anticipated, ultimately fell through; an event which is
chronicled in vol. x., the idea in this instance being taken from the
celebrated drawing in the late Mr. Clarke's "Three Courses and a
Dessert," the cartoon of Peel driving the vehicle of Protection, which
has broken down, bearing the title of _The Deaf Postilion_. A change of
ministry took place in 1846, little Lord John replacing Sir Robert Peel
as "First Lord of the Treasury." He cuts an amazingly queer figure (in
vol. xi.) in the ex-premier's huge hat, vast coat, and voluminous
waistcoat and inexpressibles. Little Lord John was an enduring subject
of _Punch's_ satire during that statesman's somewhat unsatisfactory
political career, and Leech was never weary of comparing him with his
far more brilliant and able contemporary. Here we have the pair figuring
as _Dombey and Son_ (Dombey being Sir Robert, and the son Lord John),
"Mr. Dombey was in a difficulty. He would like to have given him (_the
boy_) some explanation involving the terms circulating medium, currency,
depreciation of currency, paper, bullion, rates of exchange, value of
precious metals in the market, and so forth." The _Portrait of a Noble
Lord in Order_ refers to one of those exhibitions of want of tact,
taste, and temper in which Lord Brougham would seem to have
delighted.[140] "Who calls _me_ to order?" cries the "noble and learned"
lord, "Who calls _me_ to order? Pooh! Pooh! Fiddle-de-dee! I never was
in better order in my life. Noble lords don't know what they are about;"
a conspicuous and aggressive appurtenance of the "noble and learned," by
the way, is his preposterous umbrella. One of the most barbarous and
disgraceful of London neighbourhoods in 1847, and for many years
afterwards, was Smithfield; the present generation can form no idea of
the state of things thirty years ago, which is referred to in the
cartoon of _Punch and the Smithfield Savages_, the artist borrowing his
idea from West's well-known picture of "Penn's Treaty with the Indians."
The odious matrimonial swindle perpetrated by Louis Philippe with the
idea of ultimately seating a member of his family on the Spanish throne,
which has cast an indelible stain on his memory, had now been found out,
and attracted universal indignation. We find him, in reference to this
shameless piece of business, figuring as the _Fagin of France after
Condemnation_, the idea being suggested of course by Cruikshank's famous
etching in "Oliver Twist." Retribution overtook the mercenary monarch in
the year of disquietude and national unrest--1848; foreign kings and
potentates were sent flying in all directions, and Louis Philippe, who,
like the rest of his family had learnt nothing by misfortune, was among
the first to go. _Put Out_, one of the best of the artist's political
cartoons, represents an armed _ouvrier_ clapping the cap of _liberté_ by
way of extinguisher on the French candle (King Louis). Uneasy were the
heads which wore crowns in that year; and to the throned and unthroned
sovereigns, the former of whom watched these untoward events with
nervous interest, John Leech presented a seasonable gift in the form of
_A Constitutional Plum Pudding_, served up by Mr. Punch on Magna Charta,
and curiously compounded of "Liberty of the Press," "Common Sense,"
"Order," "Trial by Jury," "Religion," and "True Liberty of the Subject."

Among the sovereigns who had a peculiarly insecure seat at this period
was Mastai Ferretti, better known as Pope Pius IX. His temporal power
was weak, whilst his spiritual dominion, as might have been expected,
had never been much stronger. To bolster up the former, and at the same
time find employment for his troops, Louis, Prince President of the
French Republic, sent an army to Rome, thus affording matter for the
speculation of his countrymen, who were puzzled to know what possible
concern a French Republic could have with the affairs of the Papacy.
Allusion to this is made in Leech's cartoon of _The French Cock and the
Roman Eagle_, in which the bird of higher caste, chained and fettered,
is unable to offer anything like fair resistance to his unwilling
antagonist. In a _Bright Idea_, we have the apostle of peace (whose
uncompromising arguments in its favour have driven us before now in the
direction of war) figuring as a recruiting sergeant, and endeavouring to
enlist the "Iron Dook."


In no country perhaps are women more cruelly used than among the poorer
classes of England, while in no country under the sun is greater
sympathy expressed for the weaker sex; a paradox which was strikingly
exemplified in 1850. The Austrian General Haynau in that year paid a
visit to this country. Some time before he had earned unenviable
notoriety by his treatment of the wives and daughters of Hungarian
insurgents who fell into his hands, and it was reported, probably with
much exaggeration, that regardless of sex and condition he had subjected
these hapless fugitives to the indignity of corporal punishment. The
rising had been however some time repressed, and there was every reason
to believe that in this country at least the rumour had been forgotten.
Among the sights the General had been recommended to visit in London was
the celebrated brewery of Messrs. Barclay & Perkins, and no sooner was
his presence discovered, than he was simultaneously attacked by the
draymen, and narrowly escaped with his life. He got small sympathy from
_Punch_, who, in vol. xix., presented Leech's _Sketch of a Most
Remarkable Flea found in General Haynau's Ear_. "_Who's Dat Knocking at
de Door?_" is a question put by Johnny Russell to old Joe (Hume), who
once in every session in those days stood knocking at the door with his
banjo labelled, "Extension of the Suffrage."


Macaulay, writing in 1840,[141] referred to the progress of what he
happily termed "The Catholic Revival of the Nineteenth Century." This
revival was never more clearly exemplified than at the very time the
temporal power was most seriously endangered. Such of the temporal
power, indeed, as was left to it has gone, probably for ever; while the
spiritual power of the Papacy, at least in Protestant England, as must
be patent to any one who has given the subject the smallest attention,
has unostentatiously but enormously increased, especially within the
last twenty years. The year 1850 was remarkable for what was then known
among us as the "Papal Aggression," and _Punch_ and his "right-hand man"
were exceedingly angry. Among the cartoons which they fulminated on the
occasion were the following: _The Guy Fawkes of 1850_ [_i.e._ the Pope]
_Preparing to Blow up all England_; _The Thin End of the Wedge_ [the
Pope trying with his jemmy, labelled "Roman Archbishopric of
Westminster," to force the doors of the English Church]. It is both a
singular and significant circumstance, that at this time the Ritualists,
or rather Puseyites, were helping on the work of Rome by promoting, if
not schism, at least dissension in the Church of England by advocating
the strictest attention to the letter instead of the spirit of the
rubric and liturgy. We find, in special reference to the assistance
thus, in some cases we believe unconsciously, rendered to the Romish
Church, _The Puseyite Moth_ flying into the Roman Catholic candle; and
_Fashion in 1850, or a Page for the Puseyites_, in which we see the
Bishops of Lincoln, Oxford, and Exeter dropping the hot poker of
Puseyism, and the Pope, as monkey, making a _catspaw_ of _poor
Pus(s)ey_ [the Doctor lately deceased]; again, in vol. xx., Punch (a
boy) inquires of an episcopal showman, who holds the model of a church
on his stand, "Please, Mr. Bishop, which is Popery and which is
Puseyism?" To which the episcopal showman replies, "Whichever you like,
my little dear"; another cartoon represents a Puseyite parson who has
received "warning" from his cook. Inquiring the reason of her
dissatisfaction, he receives the following reply: "Well, sir, the fact
is I aint equal to them Fast days; for what with a hegg here, and a hegg
there, and little bits of fish for breakfastes, and little bits of fish
for dinners, and the sweet omelicks, and the fried and stewed hoysters,
and the Bashawed lobsterses, and one think and the hother, there's so
much cooking that I aint even time to make up a cap!" Another
influential person besides Mr. Punch was terribly indignant at this
aggressive movement on the part of the Papacy, and loudly avowed his
determination to go any length to put a stop to it. This was my Lord
John Russell, who, after vapouring like "ancient Pistol," quietly
sneaked off after his usual fashion, and did nothing. He got, however, a
well-merited dressing from Leech, who showed him up in his true
character in a contemporary number as _The Boy who Chalked up "No
Popery," and then Ran Away_. It was these Papal satires (as we shall
afterwards see) which led to the secession from _Punch_, and the
consequent loss to satiric art, of one of its most genial and capable
professors, the late Richard Doyle;[142] a loss followed (if we may so
term it) by a compensating gain. Richard Doyle's place was almost
immediately taken by an artist of great and exceptional power, for more
than twelve years the friend and coadjutor of John Leech--Mr. Tenniel,
who makes his first appearance in _Punch's_ twentieth volume.

The long peace which followed the national and European struggle with
Napoleon had produced a curious effect upon ourselves. While Russia took
advantage of the lull to recruit her colossal forces, and Prussia to
perfect the military system which took us so much by surprise half a
century afterwards, we, on the other hand, wearied with our long and
arduous struggle, had fallen asleep, and dreamed pleasantly that the
"Millennium" was at hand. With this idea apparently in our minds, we
inscribed on the walls of the Great Exhibition of 1851, the Scriptural
text which tells us that "swords shall be beaten into ploughshares and
spears into pruning hooks, neither shall they learn war any more." A
significant commentary on the text was found in the fact that many of
the exhibits at the "World's Fair" consisted of cannon, rifles, and
other lethal instruments of improved method and construction, intended
for the wholesale destruction of the human race. We read the Scriptural
text, and viewed these exhibits as relics of a barbarism which had
existed six and thirty years before, oblivious of the circumstance that
an incompetent general had "wiped out" a British army in Afghanistan,
and that we had crushed the empire of Runjeet Singh on the banks of the
Sutlej not so many years before. The closing of the Exhibition is
commemorated by a cartoon, in which Leech shows us the famous Amazon
putting on her bonnet and shawl, chatting the while with Hiram Power's
Greek Slave, who, habited in "bloomer" costume, prepares likewise to
take her departure. Allusion to the bribery and corruption prevalent at
a notorious borough of that day is made in a sketch which depicts the
_Horror of that Respectable Saint, St. Alban's, at Hearing the
Confession of a St. Alban's Elector_.


Remarkable results were destined to follow the year of unrest--1848.
Louis Philippe had been replaced in France by Louis Napoleon, who seems
to have been elevated to the Presidency of the Republic because he was
considered to be so absolutely harmless, the principle followed being
analogous to that observed at the election of a Pope, which has resulted
more than once in an unpleasant surprise for the cardinal electors.
Those who had formed a low estimate of his abilities, found that Louis
was no longer the "half-saved" youth of Boulogne and Strasburg; that he
had learnt some stern lessons in the hard school of adversity; that he
had developed, moreover, a firm and decided will of his own. We thought
it a hazardous experiment on the part of French Republicans, for Louis
held a craze on the subject of his uncle's "ideas," and the craze had
sufficient "method" to induce us to believe that he was the last man who
would have been selected to fill the presidential chair. As a refugee in
England, we had given him small credit for sagacity; and as an emperor
and a man, history has already said of him that he was cunning,
unreliable, and thoroughly unscrupulous. Although a comparison between
the two men is impossible, there was at least this similarity between
the two Napoleons, that both were indebted for their elevation to the
imperial purple to a revolution; here, however, all resemblance ceased.
The first Napoleon relied upon himself alone, while Louis was advised by
counsellors and adventurers wiser and more unscrupulous than himself,
and who were prepared to back his fortunes with a view of advancing
their own. At the close of 1851, Europe was electrified by the
unexpected and dastardly blow delivered by these men, and by means of a
"great crime," the history of which has been so graphically related by
Victor Hugo, Louis Napoleon, Prince President of the Republic, found
himself master of the destinies of France. The event is referred to by
John Leech in the cartoon of _France is Tranquil!!!_ which she cannot
well fail to be, seeing that we find her bound hand and foot; a
chain-shot fastened to her foot, and a sentry menacing her with his
bayonet. The next volume shows us the Prince President in the act of
being measured by his military tailor, while he offers money to his
cast-off mistress _Liberté_, her mother (France) looking indignantly on.
Immediately behind, a priest (in allusion to the support which the Papal
party were receiving from this "eldest son of the Church") helps himself
from a plate of money which stands by the President's side; the floor is
littered with miscellaneous articles,--bayonets, knapsacks, imperial and
other crowns, crosses of the legion of honour, the _code
Napoleon_,--and, in reference to Louis's craze on the subject of his
uncle and his "ideas," one of Napoleon's old boots. On a stool stands a
bust of the first Napoleon, and on a chair to the right a roll of
"Imperial purple."

By the year 1853, the only persons who steadily shut their eyes to the
signs of the times, and continued steadfastly to believe in the
immediate advent of the "Millennium," were the peace-at-any-price party
(represented by Messrs Bright and Cobden), the members of the Peace
Society, and the very strange people who obstinately opposed any attempt
on the part of England to provide for her national safety by putting her
defences in order. To the Peace Society, Leech especially addressed his
cartoon of _No Danger_, which represents a donkey braying in front of a
loaded cannon; while to the mischievous lunatics who opposed any scheme
of national defence, he dedicated an appropriate gift in the shape of _A
Strait Waistcoat Worked by the Women of England_.[143] By this time John
Bull had awoke from his dreams, and tacitly admitting that the time for
conversion of his swords into ploughshares and his spears into pruning
hooks had scarcely arrived, adopted the far more sensible method of
sending his troops to the camp at Chobham by way of getting them
acclimatized to the trials and vicissitudes of wind and weather. This
step leads of course to a number of little pleasantries. In one cartoon
we see an officer of household cavalry parting his hair in front of his
cuirass, whilst a soldier servant brings him his shaving water in a
bucket; another, entitled _A Cold in the Head_, represents an officer in
this melancholy condition, who requests his servant to bring him his
bucket of gruel as "sool as he has tallowed his loze." John, in fact,
had been aroused from his slumbers by the Emperor Nicholas, who,
thinking it a good time to appropriate Turkey, was suspected of having
offered a slice to Austria. The rumour is referred to in the cartoon of
_The Old 'Un and the Young 'Un_, in which we see the Russian and
Austrian Emperors at table with a bottle of port between them, "Now
then, Austria," says Nicholas, "just help me to finish the Port(e)." In
another cartoon, John Bull nails the Russian eagle to his barn door,
remarking to his French friend the while, that _he_ "wouldn't worry the
Turkeys any more." Lord Aberdeen, who, notwithstanding the signs of the
times, refused like Nicholas to believe in a war with England, is
represented placidly smoking the _Pipe of Peace_ over a barrel of

Thanks to Messrs Bright and Cobden, who obstinately persisted in
opposing the popular feeling which had set in steadily in the direction
of war,--thanks to the exertions of the Peace Society, who were not
restrained from sending certain zealous members of their body to the
Emperor Nicholas, who not unnaturally supposed that these broad-brimmed
gentlemen represented the sentiments of the great English people,--but
thanks above all to the French Emperor and his astute advisers, who were
enabled to take advantage of the state of English feeling to hoodwink
the "great nation" by the prospect of an alliance with a great and
respectable power, the year 1854 found us in actual conflict with
Russia, starting off after our usual fashion with a handful of men to
attack the strongest fortress in Europe, provided with an unlimited
supply of men and metal and inexhaustible stores of warlike _materiel_
of all kinds. In vol. xxvi. we see Her Majesty _Throwing the Old Shoe_
after her Guards, who, for the first time since 1815, are seen setting
out on foreign service. Another cartoon, which has reference to our
_Bombardment of Odessa_, is divided into two parts, in one of which we
see Lord Aberdeen (whose dream of peace had been so rudely dissipated),
and in the other Nicholas of Russia, both reading the newspaper. Says
Aberdeen, "Bombardment of Odessa! Dear me, this will be very
disagreeable to my imperial friend!" Says the Emperor, "Bombardment of
Odessa! Confound it! this will be very annoying to dear old Aberdeen!"
In November, 1854, occurred our disastrous victory of Inkermann, in
which scarcely four thousand English troops found themselves opposed by
forty thousand Russians and drove them into flight. No thanks, however,
to our allies, who--with the exception of sixty brave Zouaves and their
lieutenant, who played truant from their regiment to give us timely
assistance--either looked on or absolutely ran away.[144] Spectators of
this battle were two of the Imperial family, a circumstance alluded to
in vol. xxvii. by Leech's cartoon of _The Russian Bear's Licked Cubs,
Nicholas and Michael_.


Picton remarked of our officers, when _en route_ to Waterloo, that with
fifty thousand of his own men, and _French_ officers at their head, he
would march from one end of Europe to the other. But both the quality of
French officers and soldiers had deteriorated at the time of the Crimean
War, and was destined still further to deteriorate until the utter
unsoundness of their military discipline was laid bare years afterwards by
Prussia. The French had no generals, while we had _one_ general and an
excellent body of soldiers. Unquestionably the Russian war did us the
service of thoroughly exposing the rottenness of our military system so
far as concerned the officering of the army. The principle followed was
precisely that complained of by Sir Thomas Picton forty years before;
there was no actual test of fitness until it came to be subjected to the
practical test of emergency; money invariably had the advantage of merit,
not only in the appropriation of first commissions, but in the purchase of
subsequent regimental grades, which were given in exchange for pecuniary
value, and not as a reward for military efficiency. The material thus
obtained was splendid as regards manliness and bravery, but something more
than these were wanted in the absence of a leader like the great Duke; and
although the type selected is an extreme one, the result may be indicated
by my Lord Cardigan, who, though equal to any amount of endurance and
heroism, proved himself incapable of the exercise of the smallest particle
of common sense. The scandal of the then existing system of purchase was
aptly exposed by the artist in vol. xxviii., where we find a rich titled
old lady in a shop served by military counter-jumpers, one of whom,
wrapping up a lieutenant-colonelcy for her boy, inquires, in the
well-known jargon of the trade, "What is the next article?" in answer to
which she expresses a wish to have "a nice majority for his little
brother"; a wounded officer with his arm in a sling timidly inquires the
price of a captain's commission, and turns wearily away on finding the
preposterous price (£3,694) is wholly beyond his means. Fortunately for
us (for events proved that in trusting to French assistance we were
leaning on a broken reed indeed!) the Russian rank and file, besides being
badly led, were as inferior to our own in endurance and pluck as they were
superior to us in the mere matter of numbers. Justly wondering why forty
thousand men, supported by twenty thousand reserves, had failed to hold
their own against a mere handful of British infantry, Nicholas
nevertheless treated the result apparently in a philosophical spirit, and
calmly asked his people to wait for "Generals _Janvier_ and _Fevrier_."
But the brave man's heart was broken, and when February came it found the
Imperial prophet a corpse.[145] The death of this great and disappointed
man is forcibly commemorated by Leech's memorable cartoon of _General
Fevrier Turned Traitor_. Lord John Russell, true to his character of "Lord
Meddle and Muddle," had done nothing for us at the Congress, and in _The
Return from Vienna_, Her Majesty catches the frightened little statesman
by the collar and angrily asks him, "Now, sir, what a time you have been!
What's the answer?" To her Lord John--"Please 'M--there
is--is--is--is--isn't any answer."

An English general in those days was so scarce a commodity that in Lord
Raglan we seemed absolutely to have exhausted the supply: one old
incapable was replaced by another, until the dearth of English military
ability became at length nothing less than an absolute scandal. In _What
we must Come to_, reference is made to this lamentable state of things,
wherein an old woman in bonnet and shawl, with a capacious umbrella,
applies for a post to Lord Panmure (the Minister of War), "Oh, if you
please, sir, did you want a sperity old woman to see after things in the
Crimea? No objection to being made a Field Marshal, and glory not so
much an object as a good salary"; in another (_A Grand Military
Spectacle_) we find the heroes of the campaign engaged in inspecting the
Field Marshals, a pair of decrepid, purblind, old men seated in arm
chairs; in the third we recognise the amiable Prince Consort, who was
most unjustly suspected in those days of a desire to interfere in the
administration of our military matters--it would be moonshine to term it
military _system_, as we had none. _The New Game of Follow my Leader_ is
a palpable hit at a practice common enough too in those days.
Applications were frequently made by officers for leave to return home
on the plea of "urgent private affairs," and you were astonished to see
gentlemen walking about whose duty it was to be with their regiments in
the Crimea. In the cartoon referred to, a long line of soldiers is drawn
up in front of the general's tent; a little drummer boy steps out of the
ranks, and making the usual salute inquires, "Please, general, may me
and these other chaps have leave to go home on _urgent private

A more unsatisfactory state of things for the belligerents all round
than this miserable Crimean conflict can scarcely well be imagined. Lord
Raglan, who had learned war by practical experience under the eye of the
great Duke himself, speedily realized the fact that he had been made the
victim of French military jealousy and imbecility, the leaders having
been selected not on account of their military efficiency, but solely
for attachment to the cause of the Emperor. The battle of the Alma had
been won without the assistance of the French, who for all practical
purposes might just as well have been away.[146] Marshal St. Arnaud,
who, to do him simple justice, was at this time dying literally by
inches, had refused to follow up the defeated Russians,[147] whose
retreat a _competent_ French general must have converted into an
absolute rout; whilst, had he followed the advice and wishes of Lord
Raglan, we should probably have entered Sebastopol in a fortnight,
instead of having to wait three years for an event which was afterwards
accomplished at a ruinous waste of time, men, _materiel_, and
money.[148] We had defeated the Russians at Inkerman without French
assistance,[149] whilst the timidity and professional jealousy on that
occasion of Marshal Canrobert had again failed to turn _our_ success
into a crushing disaster for the enemy.[150] If England was
dissatisfied, Russia was still more discontented, and her strength
moreover at this time well-nigh exhausted. Efforts in the direction of
peace were being made by Austria, which are referred to in the cartoon,
_Staying Proceedings_ (vol. xxx.), wherein plaintiff John Bull instructs
his solicitor Clarendon (who is setting off for Paris bag in hand),
"Tell Russia," says angry John, "tell Russia if he doesn't settle at
once I shall go on with the action;" but so unprofitable to us in the
end was the arrangement effected by the solicitor, that the action was
settled after all on the terms of each party having to pay their own
costs. This preposterous result is referred to in the admirable sketch
entitled _Swindling the Clarendon_, wherein landlord Bull angrily
expostulates with his two waiters (Louis Napoleon and Palmerston),
"What!" says John, "_quite the gentleman_! Why he has left nothing but a
portmantel of bricks and stones, and gone off without paying the

Just complaints were made in the papers of 1857 of the arrangements, or
rather want of arrangements, at the Royal _levées_. The space was
circumscribed and the crush frightful, and ladies returned from the
ceremony with torn dresses and dishevelled hair, just as if they had
been engaged in some feminine battle-royal. To accustom them to this
uncomfortable but apparently inevitable ordeal, John Leech, in one of
the very best of his sketches (vol. xxxii.), suggested a _Training
School for Ladies about to Appear at Court_, where we see charming women
in court dresses leaping over forms, crowding beneath barriers, and
going through a vigorous course of saltatory exercises, to prepare them
for what they might expect at the ceremony; the floor is strewn with
broken fans, gloves, feathers, watches, and jewellery; while one fat old
lady, who, in attempting to scramble beneath the barrier has become a
permanent fixture, presents a truly comical appearance.


The war was at an end; the "Eastern Question," as it was called in the
political jargon of that day, had been settled for the next twenty
years, and John Bull had now leisure to sit down to count the cost, and
consider the value of the French alliance, and the quality of the
assistance he had derived from French generalship and the French army.
The result of John's calculation was eminently unsatisfactory to
himself, for he felt that while he had done all the hard work and nearly
all the fighting, the French, as might have been expected, had arrogated
to themselves all the praise. John in his secret heart was angry; he
felt he had been drawn into a contest from which he personally derived
little advantage, and from which he emerged nominally triumphant at a
ruinous waste of men and money; the Frenchman, on his part, was doubtful
of the reality of the _gloire_ he claimed for himself, and distinctly
conscious, moreover, that the English soldiers looked coldly on the
French army and its achievements.[152] The result was a feeling of
secret dissatisfaction on both sides, which found, however, no actual
expression until an unexpected circumstance afforded opportunity for its
manifestation. The war had been succeeded by a period of inaction, a
state of things always dreaded by Louis, who was now harassed by plots
and conspiracies, and a certain foreigner connected, or supposed to be
connected, with one of these had sought and found an asylum on our
shores. Certain valorous French colonels, desirous of displaying their
loyalty at a cheap cost, presented an address to his Majesty, which
contained the following intemperate passage:--"Let the miserable
assassins--the subaltern agents of such crimes--receive the chastisement
due to their abominable attempts; but also, let the _infamous haunt_
where machinations so infernal are planned _be destroyed for ever_....
Give us the order, sire, and we shall pursue them even to their places
of security." French military composition, even in the time of the first
Napoleon, was never of the highest order of merit, and the third
Napoleon, whose policy it was to distract the attention of his people
from reflecting on the questionable means by which he had attained his
position, never lost an opportunity of earning popularity with any class
of his subjects, particularly with the army. He suffered this
quintessence of bombastic absurdity to appear in the pages of the
official _Moniteur_, whence it was duly copied by the English
newspapers, and afforded us the most intense amusement. _Punch_ answered
this valorous appeal with Leech's celebrated cartoon (in vol. xxxiv.) of
_Cock-a-doodle-do!_ wherein the French cock, habited in the uniform of a
French colonel, crows most lustily on his own dunghill. This remarkable
caricature possesses a singular historical interest, as it exactly
expresses the feeling which pervaded England for some time after the
close of the Crimean war. The hostile spirit towards Frenchmen which
formed a part of John Leech's nature, once aroused was not easily
allayed, and in the same volume he gives us specimens of _Some Foreign
Produce that Mr. Bull can very well Spare_, in which he angrily includes
French conspirators, vile French women, organ grinders (the artist's
peculiar abomination), and other foreign refuse of an objectionable
character. Further on, he follows up the subject in _A Discussion Forum
(!) as Imagined by our Volatile Friends_, which represents a party of
English conspirators from a French point of view. They wear the peaked
hats, long cravats, long hair, boots, and inexpressibles peculiar to the
Reign of Terror, and carry knives, revolvers, axes, and other weapons of
destruction; a speaker occupies the rostrum, and below him sits the
registrar with a bowl of blood, in which sanguinary fluid the
proceedings are supposed to be recorded. The opposite picture, _A
Discussion Forum (!) as it is in Reality_, shows us a number of foolish,
ignorant, harmless youths, smoking pipes, drinking brandy and water, and
discussing politics (so far as they are capable of understanding them)
in a tavern club-room. Returning once more to his attacks on what he
justly deemed the Romanizing tendency of the practices of certain
members of the English Church, he gives us the cartoon of _Religion à la
Mode_, in which a handsome woman is about to "confess" to a truculent
and knavish looking ritualist. In the distance appears John Bull with
his horsewhip, "No, no, Mr. Jack Priest," says he; "after all I have
gone through, I am not such a fool as to stand any of _this_ disgusting
nonsense." Some sensation was created this year by a private fête which
was given by a member of the aristocracy at Cremorne Gardens. It
occasioned considerable talk at the time, and as Ritualism was then in
the ascendant amongst certain female leaders of fashion, Leech gives us
(in vol. xxxv.) a powerful picture, entitled _Aristocratic Amusements_,
in which John Thomas asks his mistress (a magnificent specimen of the
artist's handsome women) as he puts up the steps of her carriage,
whither she would wish to be driven,--"Confession or Cremorne, my lady?"

Misfortune, the proverb tells us, makes us acquainted with strange
associates. The Emperor Louis, during his early exile, had picked up
certain undesirable acquaintances, who were in the habit in after life
of forcing themselves on his notice after a peculiarly disagreeable and
dangerous fashion. His unfaithfulness to the principles of the
brotherhood of which he and they had been members, had seriously
exercised the minds of certain of these quondam acquaintances, who had
given forcible expression to their feelings by attempting his
assassination. The pear-shaped hand grenades of Orsini and his
fellow-conspirator were the fruit of Louis's early connection with the
secret societies of the Carbonari. They indicate the forces which
controlled the policy of the Third Napoleon, and obliged him constantly
to pick quarrels with his neighbours for the double purpose of employing
his army and of keeping the attention of his restless subjects and
quondam acquaintances distracted from himself. As the advisers upon
whom he depended were removed by death, the absence of military capacity
which his habitual reticence had concealed was manifested by his
extraordinary ignorance of the weakness of the force which he had at his
disposal, and the utter rottenness of its organization. Meanwhile
Italian assassins warned Louis's advisers of the desperate insecurity of
the tenure by which they held their own position, and of the necessity
of distracting the attention of the restless spirits who made it their
business to inquire into their master's title. Within a year, therefore,
of the execution of Orsini and his friend, a quarrel was fastened on the
Austrian ambassador, which reminded us of the first Emperor's insult to
our own Lord Whitworth, and the Imperial word went forth that Italy was
to be freed "from the Alps to the Adriatic."[153] Although Louis was
unable to accomplish this programme, he was enabled by great good
fortune, the aid of Sardinia, the execrably bad generalship of the
Austrians, and the military _prestige_ which still attached to the
French name, to pave the way for this result; and Austria was not only
humbled, but had moreover to surrender Venetia to Sardinia. No sooner
was the war over, than Louis was suspected of casting longing eyes at
the territories of his brave little ally,[154] and in _A Scene from the
New Pantomime_, he figures as clown, holding a revolver in his hand,
with a goose marked "Italy" in his capacious pocket, assuring Britannia
(a stout elderly woman who looks suspiciously on) that his intentions
were of the most honourable description.

In the sketch entitled _The Next Invasion, Landing of the French (Light
Wines), and Discomfiture of Old General Beer_ (vol. xxxviii.), we have a
pictorial prophecy which has not borne fulfilment. Although the
so-called _vin ordinaire_ made some progress among us for a time, it was
soon discovered that a low class of wine, which the French themselves
would not drink, was being manufactured for the English market, and that
good sound claret remained (as might have been anticipated) as dear, if
not dearer, than ever. The climate and constitution of John Bull do not
enable him to appreciate the merits of "red ink" as a table beverage,
and in the end old General Barleycorn rallied and drove the invaders out
of the popularity they had for a time achieved.

       *       *       *       *       *

And here we break off--for reasons which will be apparent in our next
chapter--the further consideration of the graphic satires of the late
John Leech. Before passing on to other matters, we are bound to say that
we regard them rather for what they might have been than for what we
actually find them. Had they been executed with the same materials and
under the same conditions as the graphic satires of Gillray or
Cruikshank, or still better, in the manner in which the sporting
pictures to the late Mr. Surtees' novels were produced, we have no
hesitation in saying that they would have distanced anything in the
nature of caricature which had gone before. Unfortunately, the
productions of the modern caricaturist (if, indeed, we may term him one)
have no reasonable chance, it being apparently taken for granted that a
modern public will not invest in caricatures of an expensive
character.[155] Moreover, he has no longer any hand in the completion of
his picture, the wood-block being cut up into segments, each entrusted
to a different hand, and executed with materials with which the older
caricaturists had nothing to do, and under conditions of pressure and
haste to which they were happily strangers. Hence it is, that while the
admirable satires of John Leech enhance the value of the _Punch_ volumes
themselves, taken _singly_, not only will they not command a fiftieth
part of the price asked and given for the coloured but inferior
productions of an earlier school, but they are to all intents and
purposes valueless. Leech himself has often been known to say to friends
who admired his composition on the wood block:--"Wait till Saturday, and
see how the engraver will have spoiled it." We will subject the justice
of these observations to a practical test. Let the reader compare an
ordinary _Punch_ cartoon with one of the tinted lithographs issued from
the _Punch_ office during the artist's lifetime under the title of _The
Rising Generation_, and he cannot fail to be struck with the enormous
advantages possessed by the latter. These last have their price, and
command, by reason of their scarcity, a comparatively high one.


  [139] The prosecution, however, answered its purpose. The funds of
    the Repeal Association were nearly exhausted by the contest, the
    influence of the "Liberator," as he was called, was destroyed, and he
    himself was more guarded and circumspect in his language. He died
    three years afterwards.

  [140] See the "Political Sketches of HB."

  [141] _Edinburgh Review_, October, 1840.

  [142] See Chapter xviii.

  [143] The national defences, such as they are, being an accomplished
    fact, these strange people are now making themselves active in the
    promotion of the last suicidal mania--the Channel Tunnel!

  [144] _Vide_ Kinglake's "Invasion of the Crimea."

  [145] There are of course curious stories about as to the _cause_ of
    the Emperor's death: for one of these see "Journal of the Rev. J. C.
    Young," vol. ii. p. 331.

  [146] Figures will conclusively prove who bore the burden and heat of
    the day. The English loss was: killed, 25 officers, 19 sergeants, 318
    rank and file; 81 officers, 102 sergeants, and 1,438 rank and file
    wounded. The French loss was simply 60 killed and 500 wounded. The
    Russian loss in killed and wounded was 5,709.

  [147] Kinglake's "Invasion of the Crimea," 6th edition, 1877, vol.
    iii. p. 305.

  [148] Kinglake's "Invasion of the Crimea," 6th edition, 1877, vol.
    iii. p. 349.

  [149] At 8.30 a.m. the Russians had 17,000 infantry and 100 guns
    opposed to 3,600 English with 36 guns and 1,600 French infantry and
    12 guns [_Ibid._ vol. vi. p. 321]. Three hours later on, Canrobert
    had under his orders 9,000 fresh men, who remained inactive: "So far
    as concerned any active exertion of infantry power, our people were
    now left to fight on _without any_ aid from the French"--_Ibid._ pp.
    416, 417.

  [150] _Ibid._ vol. vi. pp. 439, 440.

  [151] A more telling commentary on our useless waste of blood and
    treasure could scarcely be found. Truly they manage these things
    better in Germany.

  [152] See the remarkable expressions of dissatisfaction _wrung_ from
    the placid Lord Raglan on various occasions, and the very free manner
    in which the English officers expressed themselves when the 7th
    French _leger_ regiment ran away from the Russians at Inkerman for
    the second time.--_Kinglake's_ "_Invasion of the Crimea_," 6th
    edition, 1877, vol. vi. pp. 327-8, 344-5.

  [153] Louis was fond of these theatrical announcements, which answered
    the purpose he designed, of attracting the sympathy of the
    impressionable French people. The following is a short summary of the
    mode in which Italy was _really_ freed "from the Alps to the
    Adriatic":--Lombardy was surrendered to Sardinia 11th July, 1859; the
    treaty ceding Savoy and Nice to France was signed 24th March, and
    approved by the Sardinian Parliament 29th May, 1860. The French
    troops retired from Italy the same month. Garibaldi landed at Marsala
    11th May, 1860, and entered Naples on the 18th of August. The kingdom
    of Italy was recognised by Great Britain 31st March, 1861. In 1864
    Florence was declared the capital of Italy. The French troops left
    Rome in November, 1865. Venetia was ceded to France by Austria 3rd
    July, 1866. They retired from the Quadrilateral in October, 1866;
    Venice was annexed to Italy the same month; the Italian troops
    entered Rome in September, 1870, when Napoleon III. was no longer
    able to interpose, and it was incorporated in the Italian kingdom in

  [154] See previous note.

  [155] Since the above was written, a weekly paper has been
    established, which promises to promote the revival of caricature art.


_JOHN LEECH_ (_Continued_).

  _Giovanni._ What do the dead do, uncle?--do they eat,
    Hear music, go a hunting, and be merry,
    As we that live?

  _Francesco de Medicis._ No, Cuz; they sleep.

  _Giov._ ... When do they wake?

  _Frances._ When God shall please.

     WEBSTER'S _White Devil; or, Vittoria Corombona_ (1612), Act 3.

Many of our readers will remember the exhibition at the Egyptian Hall,
in 1862, of John Leech's "Sketches in Oil," the subjects being enlarged
reproductions from selected examples of his minor drawings for _Punch_.
To his friend Mark Lemon is due the credit of this idea, which was
carried out after the following manner:--The impression of a block in
_Punch_ being first taken on a sheet of india-rubber, was enlarged by a
lithographic process; the copy thus obtained was transferred to stone,
and impressions obtained on a large sheet of canvas. The result was an
outline groundwork, consisting of his own lines enlarged some eight
times the dimensions of the original drawing, which the artist then
proceeded to fill up in colour. His knowledge of the manipulation of oil
colours was, however, slight, and his first crude attempts were made
under the guidance of his friend Mr. Millais. The first results can
scarcely be said to be satisfactory; a kind of transparent colour was
used, which allowed the coarse lines of the enlargement to be distinctly
visible, and the finished production presented very much the appearance
of an indifferent lithograph slightly tinted. In a short time, however,
he conquered the difficulty; and, instead of allowing the thick, fatty
lines of printer's ink to remain on the canvas, he removed
them--particularly as regards the outlines of the face and figure--by
means of turpentine. These outlines he re-drew with his own hand in a
fine and delicate manner, and added a daintiness of finish, particularly
in flesh colour, which greatly enhanced the value and beauty of the
work. He nevertheless experienced some difficulty in reproducing in
these enlargements the delicacy of touch and exactness which
characterized the original drawings, and would labour all day at a
detail--such as a hand in a certain position--before attaining a result
which entirely satisfied himself. The catalogue of this exhibition may
be cited in evidence of Leech's characteristic modesty. "These
sketches," it said, "have no claim to be regarded or tested as finished
pictures. It is impossible for any one to know the fact better than I
do. They have no pretensions to a higher name than that I have given
them--'Sketches in Oil.'"

Popular and eminently successful as this exhibition proved to be, it was
undeniably rendered more popular and successful by his staunch friend
Thackeray's article in the _Times_ of 21st June, 1862:--"He is a natural
truth-teller," said the humourist, "as Hogarth was before him, and
indulges in as many flights of fancy. He speaks his mind out quite
honestly, like a thorough Briton.... He holds Frenchmen in light esteem.
A bloated 'Mossoo' walking in Leicester Square, with a huge cigar and a
little hat, with 'billard' and 'estaminet' written on his flaccid face,
is a favourite study with him; the unshaven jowl, the waist tied with a
string, the boots which pad the Quadrant pavement, this dingy and
disreputable being exercises a fascination over Mr. Punch's favourite
artist. We trace, too, in his work a prejudice against the Hebrew
nation, against the natives of an island much celebrated for its verdure
and its wrongs; these are lamentable prejudices indeed, but what man is
without his own?" Thackeray's kindly article delighted Leech; he said
"it was like putting £1,000 in his pocket." The exhibition, indeed, was
so splendid a success that it is said to have brought in nearly £5,000.

Those who, like ourselves, have found it necessary to examine the
_Punch_ volumes from their commencement in 1841, down to the 31st of
December, 1864, cannot fail to be struck by the steady decrease in the
number of cartoons which the artist annually designed and executed for
the periodical. In 1857 the number contributed was 33; in 1858, 30; in
1859, 21; in 1860, 15, in 1861 the number had fallen as low as 10; while
in 1862 it did not exceed 4.[156] This decrease (which is confined, be
it observed, to the cartoons which he contributed to _Punch_) was due to
failing health consequent on the strain of incessant production. Of the
coming evil he himself was distinctly cognizant. It is said of him that
Lord Ossington, then Speaker, once met him on the rail, and expressed to
him his hope that he enjoyed in his work some of the gratification which
it afforded to others. His answer was a melancholy one:--"I seem to
myself to be a man who has undertaken to walk a thousand miles in a
thousand hours." It was certainly not such a reply as one would exactly
look for, looking only at the joyous character of the pictures he
executed for _Punch_. He complained in 1862--the year at which we have
arrived--of habitual weariness and sleeplessness, and was advised to try
rest and change of air. He acted upon the suggestion, and, accompanied
by his old friend Mark Lemon, proceeded in that year on a short tour to
Paris, and from thence to Biarritz. Leech's pencil was not idle on this
holiday, as two of his pictures will testify. The first, _A Day at
Biarritz_, appears in the Almanack of 1863, and among the figures he has
introduced into this delightful sketch is that of the grave and
saturnine Louis, snapping his fingers in the highest _abandon_ and
skipping off with his friend _Punch_ to enjoy his ocean bath. "The
other," says Mr. Shirley Brooks, "is a very remarkable drawing. It
represents a bull-fight as seen by a decent Christian gentleman, and for
the first time since the 'brutal fray' was invented the cold-blooded
barbarity and stupidity of the show is depicted without any of the flash
and flattery with which it has pleased artists to treat the atrocious
scene. That grim indictment of a nation professing to be civilized will
be a record for many a day after the offence shall have ceased."[157]

Leech returned from this brief visit with no appreciable benefit.
Charles Mackay tells us that he met him and his constant friend,
Thackeray, at Evans' supper-rooms in December, 1863. "They both
complained of illness, but neither of them looked ill enough to justify
the belief that anything ailed them beyond a temporary indisposition,
such as all of us are subject to. Leech was particularly despondent, and
complained much of the annoyances to which he was subjected by the
organ-grinders of London, and by the dreadful railway whistles at the
stations whenever he left town. His nerves were evidently in a high
state of tension, and I recommended him, not only as a source of health
and amusement, but of profit, to take a voyage across the Atlantic, and
pass six months in America, where he would escape the organ-grinders,
street-music, and the railway-whistles, and bring back a portfolio
filled with sketches of American and Yankee character. 'I am afraid,' he
replied, 'that B. & E. [Bradbury & Evans] would not like it. Besides, I
should not like to be absent from _Punch_ for so long a time.'
'Nonsense,' said Thackeray, 'B. and E. would highly approve, provided
you sent them sketches. _I_ think it a good idea, and you might put five
thousand pounds in your pocket by the trip. The Americans have never
been truly portrayed, as you would portray them. The niggers alone would
be a little fortune to you.' Leech shook his head dubiously, and I
thought mournfully, and no more was said upon the subject."[158]

Nevertheless, the end of one at least of these steady friends and men of
genius was drawing near with sure and rapid strides. Both were present
at the anniversary of the death of the founder of the Charterhouse,
"good old Thomas Sutton," on the 12th of that same month of December,
1863. At the celebration of Divine service at four o'clock, Thackeray
occupied his accustomed back seat in the quaint old chapel; from thence
he went to the oration in the Governor's room; and as he walked up to
the orator with his contribution, the great humourist, Mr. Theodore
Taylor, tells us, was received "with such hearty applause as only
Carthusians can give to one who has immortalized their school."[159] At
the banquet which followed he sat by the side of John Leech, who was one
of the stewards, and proposed the time-honoured toast, _Floreat Æternum
Carthusiana Domus_, in a speech which was received with three times
three and one cheer more. John Leech replied to the toast of the
stewards. The day is memorable as the last "Founder's Day," which either
of these men--so eminently distinguished in art and letters--was ever
permitted to attend.

Three days afterwards Thackeray was present at the usual weekly _Punch_
dinner on the 15th of December, for, although he had long ceased to be a
regular contributor to the periodical, he not only continued to aid the
staff with his suggestion and advice, but was a constant member of the
council.[160] But ever since the time he was writing "Pendennis," a
dozen years before, he had been visited periodically by attacks of
sickness, attended with violent retching. One of these occurred on the
morning of Wednesday, the 23rd of this same month of December, and he
was in great suffering all day. About midnight of that day, his mother,
Mrs. Carmichael Smith,[161] who slept in the room above his own, had
heard him get up and walk about; but as this was his habit when visited
by these fell visitations, she was not alarmed. The man, however, was
in his mortal agony; and when his valet, Charles Sargent, entered his
master's chamber on the morning of Christmas Eve, and tried to arouse
him, he found that he answered not, neither regarded, having passed into
the slumber from which the spirit of man refuses to be awakened.

Dying Jerrold had time vouchsafed to him to whisper, "Tell the dear
boys," meaning his associates in _Punch_, "that if I have ever wounded
any of them, I've always loved them," and so he went his way. To
Thackeray no such grace was given; the hands peacefully spread over the
coverlet, which stirred not when Sargent bent anxiously over his master,
proclaimed that true hearted noble Thackeray had gone the long journey,
leaving no word of message for those who had loved him. "We talked of
him," said Mr. Edmund Yates, "of how, more than any other author, he had
written about what is said of men immediately after their death--of how
he had written of the death-chamber, 'They shall come in here for the
last time to you, my friend in motley.' We read that marvellous sermon
which the week-day preacher delivered to entranced thousands over old
John Sedley's dead body, and 'sadly fell our Christmas Eve.'" That same
Christmas Eve, the melancholy tidings were conveyed to Mark Lemon by his
sorrowing friend, John Leech. The artist was terribly affected, and told
Millais of his presentiment that he also should die suddenly and soon.

In March, 1864, we notice the death of another author, whose almost
unrecorded name is, nevertheless, intimately associated with that of the
artist. This was Mr. R. W. Surtees, author of the sporting novels which
the genius of Leech has made for ever famous. Mr. Surtees for some years
practised as a London solicitor; but the death of an elder brother
improved his position, and enabled him to quit a profession which he
disliked, in favour of the more congenial employment of literature.
Those of his works best known (he published several others) are, of
course, "Handley Cross," "Sponge's Sporting Tour," "Plain or Ringlets,"
"Ask Mamma," and "Mr. Facey Romford's Hounds." Notwithstanding a
decidedly horsey and somewhat vulgar tone,--a tone which by the way
certainly did not characterize Mr. Surtees himself,--they possess a
certain original humour, which will render their perusal productive of
amusement. He died suddenly on the 16th of March, 1864, in his
sixty-second year.

It has been the habit of the contributors to _Punch_, almost from the
commencement of the periodical, to dine together every Wednesday. In the
winter months the dinner was usually held in the front room of the first
floor of the business premises of the proprietors, Messrs. Bradbury &
Evans, in Bouverie Street, Whitefriars. Sometimes these dinners were
held at the Bedford Hotel, Covent Garden. During the summer months it
was customary to hold ten or twelve dinners at Greenwich, Richmond,
Blackwall, and other places in the neighbourhood of London. On these
occasions the programme (if we may so term it) of the forthcoming number
was arranged and settled, papers were brought out, and the latest
intelligence discussed, so as to bring the "cartoon" down to the latest,
or rather one of the latest subjects of current interest. At the weekly
council dinner John Leech was a faithful attendant. These meetings,
indeed, "he thoroughly enjoyed, and his suggestions, not merely as to
pictorial matters, but generally, were among the most valuable that were
offered, as may be inferred from his large knowledge of the world, his
keen sense of the ludicrous, and his hatred of injustice and
cruelty."[162] One of the most regular attendants of the _Punch_
dinners--I think that in 1864, at least, he scarcely missed one--was the
most indefatigable of the literary staff, Mr. Shirley Brooks. One was
held at The Bedford on the 13th of April, 1864, just about the time when
Lord John Russell was setting out as our representative at the
Conference, and the outcome of this particular _Punch_ dinner, at which
were present Messrs. Mark Lemon, Shirley Brooks, Tom Taylor, John Leech,
and Percival Leigh, was Leech's admirable cartoon of _Moses Starting for
the Fair_. "Let us hope," adds the pictorial satirist, in special
reference to his lordship's unfortunate capacity for getting himself
into a mess, that "he won't bring back a gross of green spectacles." It
was one of the last of Leech's political shafts, and the subject was
suggested (we have his own authority for stating it) by his friend and
literary colleague, Mr. Shirley Brooks.[163]

"Clearly ill," is Mr. Brook's record of the state of John Leech's health
on this same 13th of April, 1864. He no longer found pleasure in
hunting, of which he had been exceedingly fond, and had even
discontinued, at the order of his medical attendant, riding on
horseback. He was affected with nervous irritability, the effect of
incessant application. The ordinary noise of the streets--musicians,
organ-grinders, street vendors, and the like--worried him beyond
endurance. Long before the period at which we have arrived these
annoyances had driven him from his residence in Brunswick Square to seek
shelter from his enemies at No. 3, The Terrace, Kensington. His nervous
irritability is manifested in the designs which he continued to draw for
_Punch_. In one of his illustrations to vol. xlv. (1863), depicting
certain familiar sea-side nuisances, he asks, "Why a couple of conceited
fanatics should be allowed to disturb the repose of a Sunday afternoon
by the sea-side?" and "Why the authorities at Brighton, so sensible and
considerate in keeping the place free from the _detestable_ organ
grinders, should permit the terrible nuisance indicated [in the
illustration] to exist?" "Fresh prawns, whiting, oysters, or
watercresses," remonstrated the persecuted artist, "are capital things
in their way, and we should think that the jaded man of occupation, or
the invalid, would very much rather send to a respectable shop for such
delicacies, than have them 'bellowed' into his ears morning, noon, and
night." His illustrations of this character are so numerous that the
ordinary observer would probably suppose that they were part only of a
series; to the observer, however, who knew Leech, they clearly indicate
the nervous irritability under which he suffered, and which was probably
caused, and certainly intensified, by the nuisances of which he

The state of Leech's health in May, 1864, seems to me best explained in
the letter which Mark Lemon at this time wrote to Mr. Bass, in relation
to his proposed bill for the regulation of street music. After showing
how he himself was obliged to quit London to escape the nuisance of
street music, the then editor of _Punch_ continues: "A dear friend of
mine, and one to whom the public has been indebted for more than twenty
years for weekly supplies of innocent amusement, and whose name will
find a place in the future history of art, has not been so fortunate. He
lived in Brunswick Square, and remained there until the nervous system
was so seriously affected by the continual disturbance to which he was
subjected while at work, that he was compelled to abandon a most
desirable home, and seek a retreat at Kensington. After expending
considerable sums to make his residence convenient for his
art-work,--placing double windows to the front of his house, etc.,--he
is again driven from his home by the continual visitation of street
bands and organ-grinders. The effect upon his health--produced, upon my
honour, by the causes I have named--is so serious that he is forbidden
to take horse exercise, or indulge in fast walking, as a palpitation of
the heart has been produced--a form of _angina pectoris_, I believe--and
his friends are most anxiously concerned for his safety. He is ordered
to Homburg, and I know that the expatriation will entail a loss of
nearly £50 a week upon him just at present.

"I am sure I need not withhold from you the name of this poor gentleman.
It is Mr. John Leech.

"If those gentlemen who laugh at complaints such as this letter contains
were to know what are the natural penalties of constant brain-work, they
would not encourage or defend such unnecessary inflictions as street
music entails upon some of the benefactors of their age. Such men are
the last to interfere with the enjoyments of their poorer
fellow-labourers; but they claim to be allowed to pursue their callings
in peace, and to have the comfort of their homes secured to them. All
they wish is to have the same immunity from the annoyances of street
music as the rest of the community have from dustmen's bells,
post-horns, and other unnecessary disturbances."

The terrible nature of poor Leech's sufferings will be shown by another
anecdote of Dr. Mackay's. Just about this time he met Mr. F. M. Evans,
one of the proprietors of _Punch_, and asked him how Leech was. "Very
ill," was the reply; "the sufferings he endures from noise are painful
to think of. I took him down into the country a little while ago to stay
a week, or as much longer as he pleased, promising him that he should
hear no organ-grinders there, nor railway whistles, nor firing of guns.
The next morning on getting up to breakfast, I found that he had packed
up his portmanteau and was ready to depart. 'I cannot stay any longer
here,' he said, 'the noise drives me frantic!' 'What noise?' 'The
gardener whetting his scythe. It goes through my ears like a corkscrew.'
And nothing that I could say could prevail upon him to prolong his

But there was no falling off in the quality of the work which Leech
executed for _Punch_ or other employers at this time; on the contrary,
his drawings seemed to me marked by more than their usual excellence.
Witness more especially the few etchings he lived to finish for "Mr.
Facey Romford's Hounds," and the coloured etching to "Punch's Pocket
Book" of the year. One of the illustrations which he designed for the
1864 edition of the "Ingoldsby Legends," and which shows us one of his
stalwart servant girls drawing up the trunkless head of "St. Genulphus"
from the bottom of the well, appears to me to call for special notice. I
would ask the reader to observe the details of that perfectly marvellous
drawing, executed with all the effect and at a fifth of the labour which
George Cruikshank in his best days would have bestowed upon it. I would
entreat him to mark that wicked, graceless, bald-pated old head, with
its port wine nose resting on the rim of the bucket, and its wicked old
eye suggestively winking unutterable things at the perplexed and
astounded maiden. I would ask him to look at that drawing; to take into
account the health of the genial, failing artist who designed it; and to
tell me, whether in all the range of English comic art he remembers to
have met with anything more intensely comical?

We find John Leech and his able coadjutor, Mr. John Tenniel, present at
the _Punch_ dinner of Wednesday, the 15th of June; but shortly
afterwards he started on the journey ordered by his medical advisers,
and set off for Homburg in the company of his friend, Mr. Alfred Elmore,
sojourning afterwards for a time at Schwalbach. He was absent altogether
about six weeks. A record in the diary to which I am indebted for so
much information in relation to him tells me, under date of 10th August,
"Leech has returned from Germany, but I am sorry to say I don't think he
is stronger." The sole result, in fact, obtained was that his mind was
amused by his visit to new scenery, while his sketch-book was filled
with valuable memorials of the sojourn for future use. He was present at
the _Punch_ dinner on Wednesday, the 17th of August, and suggested to
his colleagues by way of cartoon the subject of _The American


Just at the time when Leech came back from Germany, unbenefited by the
change which it was hoped would recruit his exhausted strength, a great
artist in another and a different walk in art, one who had not used his
_genius_ (we will not say his opportunities, for we doubt whether they
were really given him) to the best advantage, took his departure from
the scene of many triumphs and greater disappointments: this was Thomas
Frederick Robson, the actor. He had been so long absent from the boards,
that the event failed to create the sensation which might have been
expected from the sudden fall of a theatrical star of such
unquestionable magnitude. Full justice has been done to his remarkable
genius elsewhere; and all united in regret that a man who was so great
an artist, and might have been a greater, had been prematurely lost to
the theatrical world. Those who remember Robson and his marvellous
powers,--the lightning-like flashes of energy he was wont to throw into
his parts,--his startling transition from passion to passion,--will
agree with us that, if circumstances had led him to study the higher
drama, his name would probably have occupied a place side by side with
the more prominent names of George Frederick Cooke, Edmund Kean, and our
own Irving. The remarkable power wasted on burlesque, or thrown away in
the delineation of low life character, must assuredly have made itself
felt in tragedy; and the _genius_ manifested in the _mock_ Shylock of
Robson, would have enabled him to offer a splendid presentment of the
real Hebrew, and as perfect a realization of the character of Richard
the Third as has ever perhaps been seen. His comedy--when opportunity
was given him of displaying it--was full of true humour. He had in fact,
in a remarkable degree, all the qualities of a splendid actor; but it
was his peculiar misfortune that he had never a proper opportunity given
him of displaying them. The fact that he was enormously popular was
nothing, for many men are popular with not a tithe of the gifts or power
which distinguished Robson. The favour of the "general," except in a
sordid sense, is not worth much in these days. A proof of this is to be
found in the fact that the name of Robson--after the lapse of twenty
years--is scarcely known to the ordinary playgoer; but his genius, while
he lived, was recognised by those whose applause is not easily earned,
and was therefore worth the earning.

Within a week or ten days after his return from the Continent, Leech
went with his family to Whitby, in the hope that the fresh Yorkshire sea
air would invigorate and brace up his shattered system. Some friends
were staying there at the time, and among them a young artist then
comparatively new to _Punch_, but who has been for years past one of its
leading pictorial supporters[164]--Mr. Du Maurier. During his sojourn
here, I find him writing to his friends the Brookses, that if they would
join him, it would induce him to prolong his stay. They went
accordingly, and remained at Whitby until the artist returned to town on
the 3rd of October. "Leech, when we could induce him to leave the
painting in oil, to which he devoted too many hours, enjoyed the drives
into the wild moors, and up and down the terrible but picturesque
roads; and he was still more delighted with the rich woods, deep glades,
and glorious views about Mulgrave Castle. I hoped," continues Shirley
Brooks, in the touching memorial which he contributed to the
_Illustrated London News_ only a few weeks afterwards, "I hoped that
good was being done; but it was very hard to stir him from his pictures,
of which he declared that he must finish a great number by Christmas. It
was not for want of earnest and affectionate remonstrance of those close
by his side, nor lack of such remonstrance being seconded by myself and
others, that he persevered in overlabour at these paintings, which he
had undertaken with his usual generosity, in order to enable himself to
provide a very large sum of money for the benefit of his relatives, not
of his own household. It need hardly be said that he was never pressed
for work by his old friend the editor of _Punch_." For a long time past
his contribution to that periodical had not exceeded one half-page
engraving each week; but at Whitby he elaborated a large sketch,
originally taken at Schwalbach, which is worthy of mention as being the
last of his cartoons. It will be found in vol. xlvii. (1864), and is
labelled _The Weinbrunnen Schwalbach_, and among the company drinking
the waters he has introduced the late Emperor Louis, the late King of
Italy, the late Pope, and other notable political personages. The light
esteem in which he held everything French is notable in this drawing.
Conspicuous in the foreground are several dogs belonging to the English
turnspit breed, one of which views a yapping French poodle with the most
unmitigated disdain. The landscape and surroundings in this composition
deserve particular attention, as they are charming examples of Leech's
oft-admitted talent as a landscape artist.

In the diary I find several reminiscences of the Whitby visit, and of
the walks and drives and dinners with the Leeches. Shirley Brooks and
his wife drove with them to Mulgrave Castle and its "glorious woods," on
the 29th of September; the former afterwards went to a concert at St.
Hilda's Hall, in reference to which I find the following entry:--"Grisi,
Mario, Sainton and his wife. I wrote to the latter, and went round to
see them between the parts. Introduced to Grisi, who was in a vile
temper, something about rooms." Shirley Brooks sent also the following
characteristic account of the entertainment to the _Musical World_:--


  "Owls, like other quadrupeds, must have holidays, and I have flown
  hither. But the wind has changed, and the owl, for all his feathers,
  is a-cold, as the poet observes. I shall return to the
  Metropolis--_templa quam dilecta_--as Plautus might have said in his
  _Owlowlaria_, if he had liked. I never thought much of these Latin
  dramatists, and indeed I never would read any of their works. For that
  matter, the works of few dramatists are worth reading. And while on
  the subject, I may add, that few writings of any kind are worth
  reading. Herein I am at one with Thomas Carlyle, and show my
  admiration of what he says by absolutely declining to read his
  'Frederick the Great.'

  "Possibly I might not have expended the postage stamp affixed to this
  letter had I intended only to offer you the above interesting
  information. I could have given you this at the Keppell's Arms during
  one of those many refections which I hope to partake with you at that
  hostelry. But I wish to record something that may have an immediate
  interest. There is a hall here called St. Hilda's Hall, and it is used
  for public purposes. It is furnished with a large scene-like painting
  of Whitby, is very hot, and is near the harbour, which at low tide
  emitteth odours which are odious; and I think that it is always low

  "There was a concert in this hall in the afternoon, and also in the
  evening, of the Feast of S. Michael and All Angels. Two of the latter
  came here to sing. You know them in London as Madame Grisi and Madame
  Sainton-Dolby. With them came Signor Mario and M. Sainton, and also
  Herr M. Lutz and Mr. Patey. They all sang or played. Verily, my friend
  and pitcher (for thou pitchest stones deftly, as it were), it was a
  refreshment, yea, and a consolation, to hear their voices and their
  instruments. I will not give you a catalogue of their musical deeds,
  for I had a bill, but it was borrowed from me by a large Yorkshireman,
  and he was so very large that I did not like to demand it again.
  Nevertheless, _La Diva_ sang "The Last Rose of Summer," _a la Flotow_,
  and made me think of many things--are they not written in the book of
  the Chronicles of Benjamin, whose name is Lumley? Likewise she sang
  something out of _Faust_, with il Signor, and other matters, whereof
  no matter--is it not enough to have seen and heard her? But commend
  me, (not that I need your commendation) to Madame Sainton-Dolby,
  inasmuch as that lady sang Handel's 'Lascia ch'o pianga,' and sang it
  nobly, and sang Smart's 'Lady of the Lea,' and sang Claribel's
  'Maggie's Secret,' and sang it divinely. You know what M. Sainton can
  do with his violin, but you do not know what he cannot do with it, nor
  do I. Il Signor Mario put forth his powers chivalrously, and broke
  many hearts among the fair York roses. _La Diva_ was dressed in white.
  Madame Sainton-Dolby was dressed in pink. I was dressed in a black
  coat, waistcoat, and trowsers, white cravat, lavender gloves, and
  patent leather boots, and the little boys of Whitby, unaccustomed to
  such splendour, cheered me as I came out, privately and alone, to dip
  my beak in the gascon wine, that is, in some excellent beer, in which
  I now drink your health.

  "If you have another reporter, your own special, in the town (I saw
  two or three persons who looked disreputable and enthusiastic enough
  to be musical critics--or even dustmen), and he has kept sober and
  sent you a report, you need not print this. I do not care a horse's
  mamma whether you print it or not. But I had a delightful evening, and
  I do not care who knows it; in fact, I wish everybody to know it, and
  that is why I write to your widely circulated (and widely yawned-over)
  journal. You have not been over civil to me of late, which is very
  ungrateful. You may say, with an attempt at wit, that the owl was a
  baker's child, and therefore crusty. I believe that you could win the
  prize for the worst conundrum in any circus in Yorkshire.

  Receive the assurance of my profound respect.

    "Ever yours,

        "ZAMIEL'S OWL."

While at Whitby, a deputation from the Institute of that town waited on
John Leech, to ask him to attend at a meeting and speak in promotion of
the interests of their association. On that day he happened to be too
ill to bear an interview with more than one of the gentlemen who
composed the deputation, and was obliged in consequence to refuse the
request. But the refusal gave the kindly, failing man serious
disquietude, and fearing it might be thought ungracious, he forthwith
sent for all his sketches of character from London and presented them to
the Institute.

Fechter was the leading dramatic star of that time, and his opening
night differed from the commencement of other theatrical seasons in the
fact that it invariably attracted together some of the best known men in
literature and art. At the opening of the Lyceum on Saturday, the 22nd
of October, were present Messrs. Charles Dickens, Shirley Brooks,
Hollingshead, Oxenford, Horace Mayhew, Edmund Yates, W. P. Frith, R.A.,
Creswick, R.A., Marcus Stone, Mr. Burnand (the present editor of
_Punch_), and Serjeant Ballantine. "The new piece," said Mr. Yates, "was
splendidly mounted, and never, even in Paris, have I seen Mr. Fechter
play so perfectly."[165] The said piece was called "The King's
Butterfly," and Mr. Brooks says of it that, barring the "splendid
scenery," it was "rubbish" pure and simple.

The Leeches left Whitby on the 3rd of October, breaking their journey at
York. The artist seemed somewhat better, and ten days after their return
we find them at a party at the house of Mr. W. P. Frith, R.A., among the
company being Messrs. Elmore, Creswick, Yates, George Cruikshank,
Solomon Hart, and others. Between the date of this party, on Thursday
the 13th, and that of the usual _Punch_ dinner, on Wednesday the 26th of
October, at which the artist was present, a visible change had, however,
taken place in the appearance of John Leech. Shirley Brooks afterwards
had occasion to notice that at this _Punch_ dinner he "complained of
illness and pain, and I saw that it was difficult to make him
completely grasp the meaning of things that were said to him without two
or three repetitions. He left early with Tom Taylor."[166] On the 28th
of October, the artist himself was conscious that something was wrong.
He visited Dr. Quain, who assured him that his only chance lay in
complete and entire rest; and, on returning home, he wrote a note in
pencil addressed to his old friend, Mr. Frederick Evans, in which he
mentioned his interview with the medical man, and added that he hoped to
complete a cut for which a messenger was to be sent, but that he was not
sure of being able to finish it. A messenger was sent in obedience to
his desire, but he returned empty-handed. We return at this point to the
diary of Mr. Shirley Brooks. "I called," he says (29th of October), "at
27, Bouverie Street, and heard from Evans that he was very ill. We went
off to the Terrace, Kensington. He was in bed, but no one seemed
frightened, and there was a child's party--a small one. Mrs. Leech was
in tears, but certainly had no reason to apprehend the worst. He would
have seen us. We remained three-quarters of an hour or so, but an opiate
had been given, so it was of course felt that he ought not to be
disturbed. Arranged to meet Evans at three next day;" but the fatal
messenger, who will call for each and every of us, had already delivered
his summons, and never more (in life) were either of the friends fated
to see John Leech again. "At seven o'clock that night," continues the
narrator (in another place[167]), "it pleased God to release him from
sufferings so severe as even to make the brave, patient, enduring man
say that they were almost more than he could bear."

Mr. Evans called on Brooks the following day (Sunday, 30th October).
"After hearing all he could say, I went with him to telegraph to Mark
Lemon, and also to Leech's. Millais and Leigh at the door--heard much
from them. Mrs. Chester came up--Charles Eaton, Mrs. Leech's brother and
best friend, had come. We went in and saw him ... and the poor mother,
and two of the sisters, and afterwards to the chamber of death. He
looked noble in his calm; the hair and whiskers put back, gave up his
fine forehead and handsome features--and the eternal stillness gave his
face an elevated expression. I looked a very long time on my old
friend's face. We have known one another many years, and he has been
engaged with me in business as well as in pleasure. He was very
kind--very good--and is in heaven, whatever that means."

London was, perhaps, more shocked at the sudden and unexpected death of
John Leech than even when Thackeray was smitten. The shock radiated all
over the country; for there was not a household in the land in which his
name was not familiar as a household word. His personal friends were
deeply affected--none more so than his attached friend, Charles Dickens.
Writing at the time to Forster, in reference to his coming book, "Our
Mutual Friend," he said, "I have not done my number. This death of poor
Leech (I suppose) has put me out woefully. Yesterday, and the day
before, I could do nothing; seemed, for the time being, to have quite
lost the power; and am only by slow degrees getting back into the track
to day." Mr. John Tenniel heard of the loss of his valued _confrère_
that same Sunday, 30th October, and "was stunned at the news, totally
unexpected by him."[168] A special meeting of the _Punch_ staff was
called by Mark Lemon on the following day; himself, Messrs. Percival
Leigh, Shirley Brooks, F. C. Burnand, Tom Taylor, Charles Keene, H.
Silver, John Tenniel,--all were present with the exception of Horace
Mayhew. With the particulars of that meeting we of course have nothing
to do; its melancholy character the reader may well imagine.

On Friday, the 4th of November, 1864, they laid John Leech to rest in
Kensal Green Cemetery, "in the next grave but one to W[illiam]
M[akepeace] T[hackeray]. When Annie Thackeray heard of the death, she
[had] said to Mrs. Millais, 'How glad my father will be to meet him!'
'And he will,'" adds the friend whose note we have transcribed.[169] We
take the account of his burial from Mr. Edmund Yates's impressive and
touching account in the _Morning Star_ newspaper. "The scene round the
grave was a most impressive one. There, ranged round the coffin, stood
the remnant of that famous body of wits who had caused the name of
_Punch_ to be famous at the ends of the earth; there, in the coffin, lay
all that was earthly of him who, more than any of them, had helped to
spread its renown, and to win for himself a name familiar as a household
word in all our English homes. By its side stood Mark Lemon, who, for
two and twenty years has presided over the weekly dinner where the good
things are suggested, and the weekly sheet whereon they are inscribed;
who has seen comrades fall out of the ranks in the march of life, and
perish by the wayside. And such comrades! Gone the brilliant, meteoric
A'Beckett; fiery, impulsive, scathing Jerrold; playfully cynical
Thackeray; and now--_John Leech_! There stood Shirley Brooks, who since
Jerrold's death has been _Punch's_ literary mainstay; Tom Taylor,
working now in other channels, but still attached to the staff; Horace
Mayhew and Percival Leigh, old colleagues of the dead man; F. C. Burnand
and H. Silver, the youngest of the corps; and John Tenniel, who had
taken Mr. Doyle's place on his secession, and worked in thorough amity
with Leech. Over the coffin bowed the handsome head of Millais in
overwhelming grief. All round one caught glimpses of well-known people.
There, in the front rank of the crowd, was the frank, earnest face of
Charles Dickens; by him Alexander Munro, the sculptor; there a group of
artists--Messrs. Creswick, O'Neil, and Elmore;[170] Messrs. Mowbray,
Morris, Dallas, and W. H. Russell, of the _Times_. At the back of the
grave, by the canopy, Mr. W. P. Frith, R.A.; near him a group of
journalists--Messrs. Friswell, Halliday, Gruneison; Mr. Swain, the
engraver, who had had for years the engraving of Mr. Leech's drawings;
Richard Doyle; Mr. Orridge, the barrister; the Rev. C. Currey, preacher
of the Charter House; Lieutenant-Colonel Wilkinson, who had had John
Leech for his school-fellow and fag at Charter House; while amateur art
was worthily represented by Messrs. Arthur Lewis, M. F. Halliday, and
Jopling. And there, in the bright autumn sunshine, they laid him to his
rest. Sir T. N. Talfourd relates that at the burial of Charles Lamb,
'the true-hearted son of Admiral Burney refused to be comforted.' It is
our task to record that round the grave of John Leech there was not a
dry eye, and that some of his old companions were very painfully
affected. The most beautiful part of the service was read by Mr.
Hole,[171] in an earnest manner, broken occasionally by convulsions of
grief which he had some difficulty in repressing, while here and there
among the crowd loud sobs told of hearty though humble mourners."

On the 12th of November, 1864, there appeared in the pages of the
periodical he had so well served, whose pages he has permanently
enriched with some of the choicest specimens of graphic satire, and with
whose fortunes he had been associated from the commencement, the
following touching notice from the pen of his friend, the late Shirley

           JOHN LEECH,
           _Ætat 46._

"The simplest words are best where all words are vain. Ten days ago a
great artist, in the noon of life, and with his glorious mental
faculties in full power, but with the shade of physical infirmity
darkening upon him, took his accustomed place among friends who have
this day held his pall. Some of them had been fellow-workers with him
for a quarter of a century, others for fewer years; but to know him well
was to love him dearly, and all in whose name these lines are written
mourn as for a brother. His monument is in the volumes of which this is
one sad leaf, and in a hundred works which at this hour few will
remember more easily than those who have just left his grave. While
society, whose every phase he has illustrated with a truth, a grace,
and a tenderness heretofore unknown to satiric art, gladly and proudly
takes charge of his fame, they, whose pride in the genius of a great
associate was equalled by their affection for an attached friend, would
leave on record that they have known no kindlier, more refined, or more
generous nature than that of him who has been thus early called to his



  [156] I estimate the number of his cartoons as nearly as possible as

    1842    3      1850   37      1858   30
    1843   11      1851   42      1859   21
    1844   42      1852   35      1860   15
    1845   43      1853   32      1861   10
    1846   35      1854   34      1862    4
    1847   35      1855   41      1863    3
    1848   38      1856   33      1864    4
    1849   37      1857   33

  [157] Shirley Brooks in _Illustrated London News_ of 19th November,

  [158] Charles Mackay's "Forty Years' Recollections."

  [159] "Thackeray the Humourist and the Man of Letters," p. 12.

  [160] MS. Diary of the late Shirley Brooks, 1st January, 1864.

  [161] Died on the 18th of December, 1864, exactly within a year from
    the date of her son's death.

  [162] Shirley Brooks in _Illustrated London News_ of 19th November,

  [163] "I suggested the cut, Moses being dressed for the Fair, Johnny
    Russell for the Conference." MS. Diary of the late Shirley Brooks.

  [164] The first time I find mention of his name is on the 22nd of
    March, 1864, when the late Shirley Brooks met him at a party at Mr.
    Ernest Hart's, 69, Wimpole Street. Some years afterwards, he adds in
    a note, "Met him next at Whitby." I first meet with his name at a
    _Punch_ council, 7th November, 1864: "Dumaurier first time."

  [165] Mr. Yates in _Morning Star_.

  [166] MS. Diary of Shirley Brooks: 29th October, 1864.

  [167] _Illustrated London News_, 19th November, 1864.

  [168] MS. Diary of Mr. Shirley Brooks.

  [169] _Ibid._

  [170] H. K. Browne ("Phiz"), T. Landseer, George Cruikshank, Marcus
    Stone, Sir John Gilbert, and Mr. Philips, R.A., were also present.

  [171] The Rev. J. Reynolds Hole, author of "A Little Tour in
    Ireland," to which his friend, John Leech (who accompanied him),
    contributed some of the most charming of his illustrations.



In a work dealing with comic artists and caricaturists, one is somewhat
puzzled to decide what place to assign to the distinguished draughtsman
who died a year and a half ago. _Ultimus Romanorum_, the last of the
great trio of designers, Cruikshank, Leech, and Browne, his career
offers to us a singular paradox; for although not born a comic artist
(as we shall endeavour presently to show), he executed a vast number of
comic illustrations; and while, so far as we know, never guilty of a
caricature in his life, the larger portion of his drawings are
caricatures pure and simple.

We might cite a hundred examples of this tendency to exaggeration, but
one shall suffice. In the etching wherein Miss Nickleby is introduced to
her uncle's objectionable friends, Miss Nickleby as well as the
"friends" are remarkable for the largeness of their heads and the
flimsiness of their bodies; while the men, if not exactly like those
described by Pliny, or quoted from him (without acknowledgment) by our
Sir John Mandeville, are at any rate too grotesque for human beings. If
humanity offers to our study in daily life a variety in form, face, and
feature, comprising eccentricities as well as excellencies, such
specimens, nevertheless, as poor Smike or Mr. Mantalini were never
designed in its _atelier_.

  PHIZ. "_Master Humphrey's Clock_," 1840-1.


  _Face p. 336._]

The artist's invincible tendency to exaggeration, that is _caricature_
(in the Johnsonian definition of the word), was observed by his friend
and ally, the late Charles James Lever, who remarked with reference to
his illustrations of the novel of "Jack Hinton," "Browne's sketches are
as usual _caricatures_; they make my scenes too riotous and
disorderly. The character of my books for uproarious people and incident
I owe mainly to Master Phiz."[172] When Samuel Lover was sent over to
Brussels by McGlashan, the publisher, to take a likeness of the
novelist, he was accompanied by Browne, the object of whose visit was to
confer with the author on the subject of these very illustrations. Lever
was so anxious to restrain him from caricaturing his countrymen, that he
even begged Browne to accompany him to Dublin for the purpose of seeing
the _natives_, instead of the wretched specimens of Milesian humanity to
be met with in London.


Another fault of this artist, which will be apparent to any one
acquainted with his work, is the weakness of his outline, and the
singular absence of solidity, stability, and even of _vitality_ in his
figures. There is no lack of powerful situations in Frank Smedley's
novel of "Lewis Arundel," but Browne's illustrations are characterised
by an utter absence of vitality, while shadow usurps the place of
substantial bone and muscle. There are the usual thread-paper men in
tail hats, with trousers so tightly strapped to their feet that they
must go through the tedium of existence in intolerable discomfort. In
one picture he shows us a fragile, attenuated man holding another
fragile, attenuated man over the well of a staircase by the waistband of
his trousers, a feat which, difficult of performance to a Hercules,
would be absolutely beyond the power of a person so fragile, so
absolutely destitute of bone and muscle, as the hero of this particular

The weakness of which we now speak becomes strikingly apparent when he
enables us to compare him with either of the distinguished trio to which
he himself belonged. Such an opportunity offers itself in Mr. R. W.
Surtees' novel of "Mr. Facey Romford's Hounds." Compare John Leech's
illustration, _Fresh as a Four-Year Old_ (the last he executed for the
novelist before his firm, free hand was paralysed by death), with Hablot
Knight Browne's first etching in the same book. A better subject,
surely, could scarcely have been selected: the hounds have just been
let out of the kennel, and in actual life would, of course, be
scampering over the place in all the exuberant consciousness of canine
freedom; the scene, in fact, would be redolent of life and excitement,
which is wholly wanting to Browne's illustration. "Phiz," from boyhood,
had been accustomed to horses, and frequently hunted with the Surrey
hounds, and to this circumstance is due the facility with which he
usually delineated horses in the hunting field. In the delineation of
hunting scenes, however, he falls far behind John Leech, and this
inferiority is strikingly manifested in the illustration to which we are
now referring. If you compare the fragile men, horses, and hounds, with
those in Leech's last etching, you cannot fail to be struck with the
vigour and life-like reality of the latter drawing. Browne's women as a
rule are delicate, fragile, consumptive-looking creatures. The one in
the etching referred to is both physically weak and a bad horsewoman to
boot--sitting her horse with all the ungracefulness of a sack of flour.

Another weakness of Hablot Knight Browne is a tendency to reproduce. If
you look at any of his "interiors," it will be apparent to you that the
men and women--the furniture and fittings--the room itself, you have
seen any number of times before. Charles Chesterfield becomes Nicholas
Nickleby, and Nicholas Nickleby Harry Lorrequer; and with the slightest
possible rearrangement, the scenes in which these gentlemen figure from
time to time are so much alike, that we are reminded for all the world
of the set scenes and artificial backgrounds of a photographer's,
"studio." Take "Nicholas Nickleby," by way of example: the room in which
old Ralph Nickleby first finds his poor relations, does duty (with the
slightest possible rearrangement) for the Yorkshire schoolmaster's room
at the Saracen's Head; while a room in Kenwig's house becomes
successively an apartment in Mr. Mantalini's residence, a green-room,
Mr. Ralph Nickleby's office, Mr. Charles Cheeryble's room, a
hairdresser's shop, and so on. The illustrations to a novel may not
inaptly be compared to the scenery and characters of a drama, and a
theatre furnished with such a dearth of scenery and "properties," would
be a poor affair indeed. This tendency to reproduction becomes
strikingly apparent wherever a romantic hero puts in an appearance.
Thus, Mrs. Trollope's Charles Chesterfield in a frock coat, becomes in a
tailcoat Charles Dickens's Nicholas Nickleby; in another frock coat,
Martin Chuzzlewit; while a military surtout converts him, with equal
facility, into Charles Lever's Jack Hinton or Harry Lorrequer, according
to the exigencies of the costume. The strange part of it is that this
peculiarity is shown almost exclusively in the delineation of heroes of
fiction. The imagination of the artist is evidently impressed by marked
and clearly defined characters such as Squeers, Pecksniff, Gamp, Dombey,
Macstinger, Quilp, or Carker, and their identity as a rule is admirably
preserved. If pressed for an explanation, it is possible that Browne
might have pleaded that heroes of romance present for the most part,
with a few notable exceptions, a strong family likeness, being little
better than dummies, introduced by their authors for the purpose of
setting off personages possessed of greater force of character and
decision of purpose. Be this as it may, the singular failing we refer to
is certainly no mere fancy of our own. Charles Lever himself complained
that in the supper scene of his second number, Lorrequer bore so
striking a resemblance to his contemporary, Nicholas Nickleby; while his
biographer, Mr. Fitzpatrick, observes that the identity of Harry
Lorrequer is never maintained throughout the novel, that mercurial hero
being alternately represented old, young, good-looking, and ugly. So
much indeed was Lever impressed with the fact, that he actually besought
the artist to represent O'Malley the _same person throughout the book_.
A knowledge of Irish physiognomy was essential to any illustrator of
Lever's novels, and Hablot Knight Browne was so innocent of this
knowledge that the author begged him to go down to the House of Commons
and study the faces of the Irish members there, as the only accessible
method of obtaining the necessary insight in England.

Hypercriticism, happily, would be out of place in a work dealing with
caricaturists and graphic humourists of the nineteenth century. Faults
such as those the author has ventured to indicate appear to him faults
indeed of a grave character; but, while conscious of defects which
cannot fail to be patent to the most ordinary observer, he is conscious
at the same time of the great abilities of the artist, who like those of
whom he has already treated, has passed over to the ranks of "the great
majority." If the scenery and properties are sometimes poor,--if there
is no genius, and oftentimes a lack of decision and reality, there is on
the other hand no lack of talent; and there are many designs of Hablot
Knight Browne which place him in the very first rank of English book
illustrators. His etching of _The Goblin and the Sexton_ (the eccentric
yew-tree notwithstanding), _Mr. Pickwick in the Pound_, and the very
admirable little etchings which we find in that rare _Paper of Tobacco_
by "Joseph Fume," may be favourably compared with some of the best comic
illustrations of George Cruikshank himself.

  PHIZ. "_Master Humphrey's Clock_," 1840-1.


  _Face p. 340._]


Can any picture tell its story better than that first illustration to
"Nicholas Nickleby," where old Ralph pays his "visit to his poor
relations"? Mark the supercilious air with which the vulgar moneylender
hands his hat to Nicholas, and the unveiled contempt with which he
receives the attentions of poor Mrs. Nickleby and her daughter. A no
less admirable illustration is the one wherein we see the Yorkshire
schoolmaster nibbing his pen, whilst Snawley consigns his wretched
step-sons to the tender mercies of the principal of Do-the-boys Hall.
Observe the extraordinary anatomical proportions, hat and toggery, of
Mr. Newman Noggs, as he stretches up to the top of the coach to hand a
letter to Nicholas. Regard the nightcap and head-gear of the detestable
Mrs. Squeers, as she administers matutinal brimstone and treacle to the
starving pupils of Do-the-boys Hall. Mark the astonishment of Squeers
and his victim, as the savage goes down under the thundering blows of
Nickleby's cane. Look at the old imbecile declaring his passion for the
foolish Mrs. Nickleby. Behold his knee-breeches and shorts protruding
from the chimney, when his benighted intellect prompted him, at the
imminent hazard of strangulation, to pay a visit to the object of his
affections _via_ that unusually circuitous route. Look at the fatal
brawl between Sir Mulberry Hawk and his hopeful pupil; and rejoice at
the final retributive justice which overtakes Mrs. Squeers, when she
falls into the hands of her late victims, and is drenched in her turn
with the loathsome brew she had so long administered to themselves.


Specially noteworthy is the bright little picture on the title-page,
where the coach, with its spanking four-in-hand, gallops on its distant
journey after depositing Martin Chuzzlewit at his destination. The
guard, as he mounts up behind, watches with curious interest Pecksniff's
unctuous reception of the new pupil. Nothing can well be cleverer than
his realization of the _Pleasant Little Family Party at Mr.
Pecksniff's_, where that hypocritical personage, surrounded by foes,
assumes a look of persecuted benevolence, and gravely requests his
daughter, when he takes his chamber candlestick that night, to remind
him to be more particular in praying for Mr. Anthony Chuzzlewit, "who
had done him an injustice." _The Warm Reception of Mr. Pecksniff by his
Venerable Friend_ gives us the liveliest satisfaction. If old
Chuzzlewit's face is one of the "caricatures" referred to, it must be
remembered that it is distorted with passion, and the fact is forgotten
in the satisfaction with which we hail the detection and punishment of
the whining rascal, the sting of which is envenomed by the astounding
revelation that all the while he has been weaving his web of falsehood
around his intended victim, he himself has been the dupe of the man he
had schemed so long to hoodwink and deceive.


Regard again Quilp, the dwarf, and his elfin errand boy (in the "Old
Curiosity Shop"), enjoying the agonies of Sampson Brass as he essays to
smoke a long churchwarden. Behold Quilp upon his back taunting the large
fierce dog with hideous grimaces, triumphant in the consciousness that
the shortness of his chain will not permit him to advance another inch.
Look at Mrs. Jarley's wax-work brigand, "with the blackest possible head
and the clearest possible complexion," going his rounds in the company
of little Nell, his eyes fixed on the miniature of his lady-love, and
his hand pressed to his stomach instead of his heart. Behold the dwarf
once more, as he entertains Sampson and his sister Sally in the ruined
outhouse overlooking the river; the rain pours down on the head of the
hapless attorney, who, with coat buttoned up to the chin, and evidently
suffering from severe influenza, looks the picture of shivering
discomfort. Although in no better plight herself, Sally rejoices in the
sufferings of her brother, and as she sips her tea, her repulsive
features are distorted with a hideous grin of satisfaction. Quilp,
seated on his barrel beneath the only remnants of a roof, occupies a
comparatively dry corner, and looks the very picture of rollicking fun
and enjoyment.


But incomparably one of the best of Browne's comic illustrations is the
one in "Dombey," wherein Captain Cuttle encounters Mrs. Macstinger in
charge of Bunsby, bent on rivetting matrimonial chains upon that
confused and ancient mariner. Bunsby is one of the happiest of Dickens's
creations; stupid as an owl, he has nevertheless an oracular mode of
delivering himself, and the simple-minded Cuttle places as much reliance
upon this wooden-headed sailor as the ancients did on the mysterious
utterance of the Delphic Apollo. That the powerful will of Macstinger
should hold himself in subjugation so long as he was under the dominion
of her eye was a matter of course; but that this man of wisdom should be
so easily boarded and captured by the enemy, is so absolutely beyond his
simple comprehension that he scratches his head in sheer amazement. As
for poor Bunsby, the cup of his humiliation is full. So far as his
wooden features are capable of expression, they indicate two distinct
trains of thought: a conviction that his own pretensions have been
detected and exposed, and a desire to run,--an inclination repressed by
the powerful clutch of his strong-minded bride, who retains his wrist in
a grasp of iron. Compare the look of bewilderment on Cuttle's face with
the look of mingled contempt and triumph on the features of Macstinger;
and then look at poor Bunsby!

"Phiz" began etching when he was seventeen, and was in full work when he
was twenty-one. It was his three drawings on the wood for Dickens's rare
tract, "Sunday Under Three Heads,"[173] which introduced him first to
public notice. This was intended as a protest against the cant and
narrow-mindedness of the bigots whose ignorance of the sacred writings
is so dense that they confound the Jewish Sabbath (_i.e._ the Saturday)
with the English Sunday; misunderstand (which in their ignorance of
Hebrew may be excusable) the directions to _his own people_ of the
Jewish law-giver,--and ignore (which is absolutely inexcusable) the
dictates of common sense, and the plain directions of our Saviour and of
the Gentile Apostle. The strong common sense of Charles Dickens, and of
many good Christian men after him, have striven in vain to expose an
error due to the narrow-mindedness of our Puritan forefathers, to whom
are due also the impurities of Dryden and of the dramatic writers of the
Restoration. Cant, however, has prevailed; and the English Sunday--to
the delight of these fanatics, and the absolute terror of their
children--remains the most unrefreshing and most doleful of the seven
days of the week.


Theatrical London in 1840 was visited by an excitement second only to
the "Tom and Jerry" mania of 1821. The mania of 1840, if occupying a
narrower area, was more morbid in its character, and certainly not less
mischievous in its results. Harrison Ainsworth had brought out his
peculiar romance of "Jack Sheppard," which, resting on its own merits,
might have achieved perhaps a mild popularity and done but little harm.
Thanks, however, to the genius and fancy of George Cruikshank, the
public became for a time Sheppard mad; the heroes presented to admiring
and applauding audiences at the theatres were murderers, housebreakers,
highway robbers, thieves, and their female companions. The morbid taste
of the populace had in fact been thoroughly roused, a condition of
things which was satirized by the artist's little-known etching of _The
Way to the Gallows made Easy and Pleasant_, which appeared in "The New
Monthly Magazine" of 1840.[174] The inventive powers of the artist were
almost _nil_, and the rare and able etching referred to was suggested to
him by John Poole, the author of "Paul Pry," to whom we are indebted for
the descriptive letterpress: "At the foot of a gently sloping path
strewed with flowers, stands a gibbet decorated, not with a halter, but
wreaths of roses. Around it are many tombs of elegant construction,
supposed to enclose the ashes of the illustrious departed. Upon one is
inscribed, 'Here repose the mortal remains of the ever-famed Jerry
Abershaw'; upon another, 'Sacred to the memory of Poor Johnny
Greenacre.' A third is remarkable for its touching simplicity--'Alas!
Poor Thurtell!' Another, somewhat more elaborate, gives us 'Burke and
Hare! As they were loving friends in life, so in death are they
undivided! Erected by their affectionate disciples, Bishop and May.'
Besides these there are many others all bearing names of mark and fame.
The whole is surrounded by a pretty arabesque composed of crowbars and
other implements of burglary, pistols, knives, death's heads and
cross-bones, halters, handcuffs, and fetters, ingeniously disposed and
prettily intertwined with wreaths of roses."

We said at the opening of this chapter that "Phiz" was not _born_ a
comic artist. He possessed a certain amount of humour, which was evoked
in the first instance by the example of Cruikshank, and his abilities
and desire to emulate the greater artist have enabled him unquestionably
to realize many humorous designs. It is impossible, however, to examine
the numerous etchings of this draughtsman, without coming to the
conclusion that he is always seen at his best when not called on to
exercise his purely comic powers. Take by way of example, _The Venice
Glass_, in Ainsworth's romance of "Crichton"; you will need no reference
to the letterpress to understand it, for the artist tells his story far
better than the novelist. Observe Crichton as he raises the goblet, and
the poisoned wine bubbles and boils, and finally shivers the chalice
into a thousand fragments; regard the agitation of Marguerite de Valois;
the keen attention of Henri and his attendants. Where shall we find a
finer illustration than the one in this book in which Esclairmonde is
presented to Henri? The meeting of Mr. Tigg and Martin Chuzzlewit at the
pawnbroker's shop is full of pathos. Look at the poor, wasted but still
handsome mother waiting her turn whilst the gin-drinking laundress pawns
her flat-irons to gratify her passion for the deadly drink; note the
_insouciance_ of the thoughtless musician as he twangs the guitar which
he is about to pledge, though probably dependent on it for bread. Notice
the pictures above,--the Bacchante pressing grapes into a wine cup,--the
bailiff distraining for rent. Hablot Knight Browne has no powers which
would enable us to compare him with Hogarth, and yet the grim reality of
this picture Hogarth himself might almost admire.

Regard again that wondrous tailpiece at page 96 of "The Old Curiosity
Shop," where Quilp, the odious dwarf, sits up all night smoking and
drinking, his countenance every now and then "expanding with a grin of
delight" as his patient, long-suffering wife makes some involuntary
movement of restlessness or fatigue. Look at poor, wasted, shoeless
Nell, as she reclines on the settee of the public-house, surrounded by
sympathisers,--the kind-hearted motherly landlady administering mental
and bodily solace to the motherless child,--the poor, foolish, gambling
grandfather gazing into her face with wistful anxiety. Lastly, look at
the ghastly corpse of old Quilp as he lies dead amid the mud and slime
of the river, which, after playing with the ugly, malicious, ill-shapen
thing until it was bereft of life, flung it contemptuously high and dry
upon the swamps at low tide.


"Dombey and Son" called for comparatively little exercise of Browne's
_comic_ power, and consequently we shall find in this book examples of
some of his finest book etchings. The pompous London merchant, the
frigid influence he exercises on those about him, the distrustful look
of the nurse as she brings baby Paul into his presence, the shrinking
form of little Florence as the frightened child cowers with folded hands
behind her repellent father's chair, are finely depicted in the etching
of _The Dombey Family_. In _Mrs. Dombey at Home_, the proud, haughty
beauty chafing under the consciousness that she has been sacrificed to
the wealth of the heartless merchant, takes no pains to veil the
contempt she feels for the admiring men who surround her. These men (by
the way) are scarcely men at all, they are all grossly exaggerated; but
"Phiz," like many artists of greater pretensions, has sacrificed
everything to his central figure, and the presence and bearing of the
disdainful beauty makes the _coup d'oeil_ delightful. _Abstraction and
Recognition_ is a wonderful etching; both man and horse are admirably
drawn, whilst the figures scowling out of the dark entry on the passing
and unconscious horseman require no reference to the letterpress. In his
etching of _The Dark Road_, Mr. Browne developed a style of etching of
which he afterwards frequently availed himself, and by which (as in
"Bleak House" and "Roland Cashel") he sometimes succeeded in producing
remarkable effects. It shows us a postilion driving a team of horses
over a dark and dreary road bordered on either hand by dismal moorland;
the streaks of the approaching dawn illuminate the edges of the
landscape; the single occupant of the berlin, unable to control his
agitation, stands upright, and gazes anxiously around him. So realistic
is the drawing, that as we look at the flying team we may almost hear
the jingle of the splinter-bars and harness as the horses rattle along
the dismal road. Cruikshank, to save his life, could draw neither a
horse, a tree, or a pretty woman; when he did so it was rather by
accident than by design. "Phiz" (with all his faults) could draw all
three, and impart to them a grace, a beauty, and a poetry peculiar to
himself. Look at that etching of _Carker in his Hour of Triumph_, where
Edith, after using the villain as a tool to revenge herself upon her
husband, turns upon her miserable dupe with all the force of her
superior intellect, and laughs in the face of the man she has so
egregiously befooled. This really is an admirable drawing; the anger and
humiliation on the face of the dumbfounded villain, who feels himself
absolutely powerless in the hands of the scornful, resolute woman, are
powerfully depicted. A more perfect realization of Edith Dombey it seems
to us could scarcely be imagined. Leech, _perhaps_, might have reached
the idea. He would certainly have put more breadth and solidity into the
figure of Carker; but the woman he could scarcely have improved upon--I
doubt if he could have matched her. As for Cruikshank, he would have
given her an impossible waist, a puffy face surmounted with bandeaux of
raven hair scrupulously plastered to each side of her lofty forehead;
whilst Carker would have been presented to us in an uncomfortable
coat, hair parted and dressed after the Cruikshankian fashion, and a
pair of boots at least half a yard in length.

  PHIZ. "_Master Humphrey's Clock_," 1840-1.


  _Face p. 346._]


"Bleak House" (1852-3) has been described as the most successful of
"Phiz's" illustrated work; but although it contains some of the best
etchings he ever designed for Charles Dickens, the rest are in truth of
unequal merit. Among the best may be mentioned _Consecrated Ground_;
_The Old Man of the name of Tulkinghorn_; _Morning_; _Tom All Alone's_;
and the sunset scene in the _Long Drawing-room at Chesney Wold_. In the
dreary twilight of the _Ghost's Walk_ and of the room in which the
murder was consummated we have a pair of drawings unsurpassed by any of
the illustrations he executed for Charles Lever's "Roland Cashel," which
last contains unquestionably the finest of his designs.

Of all his illustrators, Hablot Knight Browne was the one who best
suited the requirements of Charles Dickens. A man of talent without a
single idea of his own, he was found more malleable and manageable than
Cruikshank, who, as we have seen, would have had a hand (if he could)
not only in the illustrations, but also in the management of the story.
The conditions under which "Phiz" illustrated "Pickwick" were wholly
different from those which poor Seymour had endeavoured to impose upon
his author. "It is due to the gentleman," says Dickens, in his preface
to the "Pickwick Papers," "It is due to the gentleman whose designs
accompany the letterpress, to state that the interval has been so short
between the production of each number in manuscript and its appearance
in print, that the greater portion of the illustrations have been
executed by the artist from the author's _verbal description of what he
intended to write_." Cruikshank would certainly not have done this, and
we doubt whether John Leech would have consented to work under such
conditions. But as regards Browne, the case was entirely different. He
had no _genius_ or ideas of his own, and could only work from the
suggestions of others. The interest and anxiety which Dickens felt in
the character of the illustrations to his novels, is shown by reference
to the illustrations to "Dombey." "The points for illustration, and the
enormous care required, make me," he says, "excessively anxious! The man
for Dombey, if Browne could see him, the class of man to a T, is Sir
A---- E----, of D----s. Great pains will be necessary with Miss Tox. The
Toodle family should not be too much caricatured, because of Polly." As
the story unwinds itself, he proceeds, "Browne is certainly interesting
himself and taking pains;" and again, in another letter, "Browne seems
to be getting on well." Still "Browne," with all his pliability, found
it a hard matter to please him. He made a particular point of Paul, Mrs.
Pipchin, and the cat by the fire; and the result to himself was so
eminently unsatisfactory that it produced a characteristic protest. "I
am really distressed by the illustration of Mrs. Pipchin and Paul. It is
so frightfully and wildly wide of the mark. Good heaven! in the
commonest and most literal construction of the text, it is all wrong!
She is described as an old lady, and Paul's 'miniature arm-chair' is
mentioned more than once. He ought to be sitting in a little arm-chair
down in a corner of the fireplace, staring up at her. I can't say what
pain and vexation it is to be so utterly misrepresented. I would
cheerfully have given a hundred pounds to have left this illustration
out of the book. He never could have got that idea of Mrs. Pipchin if he
had attended to the text. Indeed, I think he does better without the
text; for then the notion is made easy to him, a _short description_,
and _he can't help taking it in_." This last sentence exactly describes
the man: a personal description with him did more than any amount of
letterpress, however lucid.

One may readily understand this almost nervous anxiety of Charles
Dickens with reference to the _character_ of his illustrations. He
worked, be it remembered, under conditions entirely different to the
novelist of a later date. The etched illustrations of his day formed a
most important--in some cases (the works of inferior men, such as Albert
Smith, for instance) by far the most important--portion of the work
itself. Under the charm of the illustrations and the mode of issue, the
tale was protracted to a length which would be impossible in a novel of
Charles Reade or Wilkie Collins, which depends for its success upon the
skill of the novelist alone. The novel issued in monthly numbers
depended on two sources of attraction--the skill of the novelist and the
skill of his artistic coadjutor. Dickens' requirements, however, were of
so exacting a nature that they proved in the end too exacting even for
the patience of the accommodating artist, and the reader will not be
surprised to learn that a coolness was ultimately established between
artist and author, the outcome of which was the employment of Marcus
Stone and Luke Fildes on the later novels of "Our Mutual Friend" and
"Edwin Drood."

Those who would find fault with Charles Dickens for the mode in which he
controlled his artists quite fail to understand the man himself.
Although he had no knowledge of the pencil, although he himself had no
knowledge of drawing, he was nevertheless a thorough artist in heart and
mind. There is scarcely a character in his books which does not show the
care and thought which he bestowed upon its elaboration. Ralph Nickleby,
Squeers, Smike, little Nell, Quilp, Barnaby Rudge, Steerforth, Paul
Dombey, Lady Dedlock, Joe, each and all show how carefully they were
elaborated; how distinctly they presented themselves to the retina of
the mind of their distinguished creator. When this is borne in mind, it
will be at once understood why the Mrs. Pipchin of Hablot Browne was not
_the_ Mrs. Pipchin with whose outward appearance and mental
peculiarities the author himself was so intimately acquainted.


Notwithstanding the exhibition, after his death, of water-colours and
other works, which took the public by surprise, Hablot Knight Browne
will continue to be known to most of us as an illustrator of books, and
nothing more. "Oh! I'm aweary, I'm aweary," he said himself in a letter
to one of his sons, "of this illustration business." Some of these
illustrations, however, are wonderfully graceful, and one in particular
seems to call for special notice. It will be found in the "New Monthly
Magazine" for 1845, and is undoubtedly one of the best examples of the
artist's work which may be found anywhere. It represents a prisoner in a
dungeon lying at the foot of a pillar, which, except in a ghastly carved
work running round it of skulls and cross bones, reminds us somewhat of
Bonneval's pillar at Chillon. The lights and shadows are wonderfully
rendered, and the work is characterized by a softness, a beauty, and a
finish only to be observed in work which took the artist's fancy. This
etching is entitled, _Rougemont's Device to Perplex Auriol_; and
Ainsworth's story which it illustrates--a peculiarly unsatisfactory
one--commenced, I think, in "Ainsworth's Magazine," passed into the "New
Monthly," when its author purchased that periodical in 1845, and
(whether the novelist got himself into an intellectual fix or otherwise
I know not) finished, I believe, eventually nowhere.

Browne indeed finds a place here more by virtue of his book
illustrations than by reason of any just pretensions to be considered a
graphic humourist. His comic powers appear to us more the result of
education and emulation than natural gifts, and the consequence is, that
in attempting to be funny, his work too often degenerates into absolute
exaggeration. His excellencies must be sought for in his serious
illustrations, which fall more within the province of the art critic
than the scope and purpose of a work which treats of graphic satirists
and comic artists of the nineteenth century. Some of his finest
illustrations of a serious character will be found in the pages of the
"Illuminated Magazine"; in Charles Lever's admirable story of "St.
Patrick's Eve"; in the "Fortunes of Colonel Forlogh O'Brien"; in
Augustus Mayhew's "Paved with Gold"; in Ainsworth's "Mervyn Clithero";
and "Revelations of London"; and above all, in Charles Lever's novel of
"Roland Cashel."

Hablot Knight Browne lived to see the decline and fall of that peculiar
and powerful art of book illustration which was introduced by
Cruikshank; was fostered and encouraged by Charles Dickens, Charles
James Lever, their imitators and contemporaries; and died, so to speak,
with these distinguished men. His work in later years, as might
naturally have been expected, shows a woeful decline of power; and when
the suggestors from whom he derived inspiration were no longer at his
back, the poverty of invention which characterized the man when left to
his own devices becomes painfully apparent.

"Phiz" drew in later years for _Judy_ and other comic papers, and it is
simple justice to say that his designs are characterized by an utter
absence of comic power. The true comic inspiration possessed in so
wonderful a degree by Cruikshank, by John Leech, and even by Robert
Seymour, he never indeed possessed. Some fifteen years before his death
he suffered from incipient paralysis, and furthermore injured his thumb,
which obliged him to hold his pencil between his middle and
fore-fingers. Gradually this great and graceful artist dropped so far
behind in the race of life that he yielded latterly to proposals to
illustrate boys' literature of a very inferior class.

In addition to an absence of comic inspiration, the _creative_ faculty
of Cruikshank and Leech was wanting to Hablot Knight Browne. In order to
carry out an idea, it was necessary that it should be put into his head;
for leave him to himself, and he could do absolutely nothing.[175]
George Cruikshank and John Leech after receiving instructions would
proceed to realize them in their own way and after their own fashion;
but this was not the case with Hablot Knight Browne. While he could
realize the idea of another with peculiar success when the subject took
his fancy, he could neither enlarge nor improve upon it, and in this
lies the difference between _genius_ and mere ability. Lacking an
inherent sense of humour, he copied Cruikshank, and hence his
exaggerations and failures as a _comic_ designer; but he was _ultimus
Romanorum_,--the last representative of the famous men whose art was
fostered and encouraged by Charles Dickens, by Charles Lever, by
Harrison Ainsworth, and by Richard Bentley. The services which these
eminent men rendered to the novelists who like them are dead and gone
can scarcely be appreciated; for we presume few will deny that their
labours lent a charm, a beauty, and an interest to their works, which
largely tended to promote their sale. The fortunes of "Jack Sheppard,"
of "The Miser's Daughter," of "The Tower of London,"--the success
obtained by nearly all the stories of Ainsworth which obtained any
success at all, was mainly due to the pencil of Cruikshank. The
reputation of "Oliver Twist"--a morbid novel--was made in a great
measure by _him_; but for John Leech, neither "Mr. Ledbury," "The
Scattergood Family," "The Marchioness of Brinvilliers," or "Richard
Savage," would have survived to our day. To him the novels of Mr. R. W.
Surtees owe their entire popularity; while his genius has conferred
vitality on the rubbish of À Beckett. It is curious, however, how little
these facts were recognised at the time, and what little credit was
given in contemporary reviews and by contemporary critics to the artists
who rendered to successful novelists the priceless aid and assistance of
their pencils.

How far the needle of "Phiz" contributed to the ultimate success of the
great _raconteur_, Charles James Lever, we are in no position to state;
that it proved a very large factor in that result there can be no manner
of doubt. That success was not achieved immediately. Lever commenced
life as a struggling country doctor, and "Harry Lorrequer," first
brought out in the "Dublin University Magazine," before it appeared in
illustrated shilling numbers, was almost wholly ignored by the London
press, the criticisms and favourable remarks coming almost wholly from
provincial journals. There was one exception by the way, a military
paper, the critic of which went into such ecstacies over this sparkling
military medley, that he asserted he would rather be author of
"Lorrequer" than of all the "Pickwicks" or "Nicklebys" in the world.
This notice (unknown to Lever) was published with the advertisements of
the book, and (strange to say) gave so much annoyance to Dickens that he
sent an angry reply to a civil letter which came to him shortly
afterwards from the Irish novelist, and their friendly intercourse was
for some years suspended in consequence.

  PHIZ. "_Master Humphrey's Clock_," 1840-1.


  _Face p. 352._]

The decline of Hablot Browne's popularity was painfully apparent to
himself. Although our chapter was written long before the appearance of
Mr. Kitton's pamphlet, we may be permitted to re-open it to extract from
the latter the following melancholy observations which we find in a
letter to his son, Dr. Browne: "I am at present on a sporting paper,
supported by some high and mighty nobs; but I fear, _like everything I
have to do with, now a-days_, it will collapse, for some of the
proprietors of the paper are also shareholders, etc., etc., in the
Graphotype Company, so they want to work the two together. I hate the
process; it takes quite four times as long as wood, and I cannot draw
and express myself with a nasty, finicking brush, and the result when
printed seems to alternate between something all as black as my hat, or
as hazy and faint as a worn-out plate. If on wood, I should like it well
enough; as it is it spoils four days a week, leaving little time for
anything else. Oh! I'm aweary, I'm aweary! of this illustration
business."[176] This seems to us inexpressibly sad. We hear nothing of
it in earlier days, when he was drawing the excellent designs for
"Roland Cashel," for "Dombey," or for "Bleak House."

Of the works and sketches in water colour and oils exhibited in
Liverpool after the artist's death, personally we have seen nothing.
They took the public by surprise, for few at least of the outer world
suspected that this shy, retiring illustrator of books was a persevering
and accomplished water-colour artist. We ourselves were aware of the
fact, and had seen some thirty original and highly characteristic
sketches, some of them studies of characters in novels of Charles
Dickens and Lever; all executed prior to 1846, some in Indian ink, some
in crayon, a few in pencil. Among them was a small but highly finished
water-colour drawing, representing a group of seven knights in full
martial panoply, and a striking effect is produced by the glint of the
sun on the burnished armour of the central figure. The author of a
recent sketch would cite these water colours as a complete answer to
those who like ourselves maintain, in no mere spirit of detraction, that
the artist possessed not one particle of _genius_. Surely he cannot be
in earnest. If so, we have only to say, that if painting subjects in
oils or water colour from the thousand and one hints to be gathered from
history, fiction, or every-day life, be a test of _genius_, the walls of
every summer and winter exhibition--to say nothing of the Royal
Academy--would be furnished annually with examples from end to end.

Leech died in the meridian of his fame at the early age of forty-six.
Hablot Browne when he died had not only survived his talents, but his
peculiarly shy and retiring nature had caused him at the age of
sixty-seven to be absolutely forgotten. The famous men of letters whose
works he had illustrated were dead and gone; the world of literature and
of art took such small note of him that his funeral was the funeral of a
private individual, and not of one who, if he did not partake in, had
contributed in no considerable degree to the success of Charles Dickens
and of Charles James Lever. When his passing-bell rang out upon the
summer air, journalists remembered that a great artist was gone to his
rest, and _Punch_ inserted in his number of the 22nd of July, 1882, to
the memory of the last of the book etchers of the nineteenth century the
following graceful tribute:--

  "The lamp is out that lighted up the text
     Of Dickens, Lever--heroes of the pen.
   _Pickwick_ and _Lorrequer_ we love, but next
     We place the man who made us see such men.
   What should we know of _Martin Chuzzlewit_,
     Stern _Mr. Dombey_, or _Uriah Heap_?
   _Tom Burke of Ours_?--Around our hearts they sit,
     Outliving their creators--all asleep.
   No sweeter gift ere fell to man than his
     Who gave us troops of friends--delightful Phiz.

   "He is not dead! There, in the picture-book,
     He lives with men and women that he drew;
   We take him with us to the cozy nook,
     Where old companions we can love anew.
   Dear boyhood's friend! We rode with him to hounds;
     Lived with dear _Peggotty_ in after years;
   Missed in old Ireland, where fun knew no bounds.
     At _Dora's_ death we felt poor David's tears.
   There is no death for such a man,--he is
     The spirit of an unclosed book! immortal Phiz!"


  [172] Fitzpatrick's "Life of Charles Lever."

  [173] Now lately republished.

  [174] And republished in "Poole's Miscellany."

  [175] As I notice a similar remark in one of the obituary notices of
    the artist's death, I think it necessary to observe that this chapter
    was written while "Phiz" was yet living.

  [176] Mr. Kitton's "Memoir," p. 19.




In old and second-hand bookshops, and in booksellers' catalogues, may
often be found a book which is gradually becoming a literary rarity. It
dates from 1840, and is a curiosity in its way, not only on account of
the "portraits" which adorn its pages, but as a specimen of the literary
padding on which men of letters (some of them distinguished) were
content to employ their talents fifty years ago. It was published by
Robert Tyas, of 50, Cheapside; professed to give "Portraits of the
English" of the period, but served as a means of introducing certain
characteristic pictorial sketches, more or less true to nature, by Kenny
Meadows, an artist whose name and reputation, although he has been dead
scarcely ten years, are already forgotten. Connected with these
portraits are "original essays by distinguished writers," including,
amid names of lesser note, literary stars such as Douglas Jerrold, Leman
Rede, Percival Leigh, Laman Blanchard, Leigh Hunt, William Howitt, and
Samuel Lover. These essays, or rather letterpress descriptions, were
written to the pictures, which were not drawn (as is generally supposed)
in illustration of the text. The portraits are taken from almost every
grade in life: from the dressmaker to the draper's assistant, and from
the housekeeper to the hangman; the last, by the way, being perhaps the
most characteristic sketch of the series. The best of these forty-three
"pictures" is the one which faces the title-page, a gathering of the
company which individually take part in this "gallery of illustration."
The designs are characteristic of the artist's style, but possess little
power of attraction, being destitute of any claim to originality either
of conception or treatment. The artist's share of the work is by far the
best part of the somewhat lugubrious entertainment, which the
performances of his literary associates scarcely serve to enliven. The
book, however, was a success in its day, for, if we mistake not, it was
followed by a second series, is even now sought after by the "collector"
(not bibliomaniac), and possesses some historical value by reason of the
fact that national types, such as _The Diner-out_, _The Stockbroker_,
_The Lion of the Party_, _The Fashionable Physician_ (that is to say, of
1840), _The Linen Draper's Assistant_, _The Barmaid_, _The Family
Governess_, _The Postman_, _The Theatrical Manager_, _The Farmer's
Daughter_, and _The Young Lord_, no longer live and move and act their
part amongst us. A change comes over the people in the course of forty
years, and some years hence our grandchildren may well smile at the
extraordinary monstrosities (female) who figure in the graphic satires
of 1883-4.

Kenny Meadows was the son of a retired naval officer, and was born at
Cardigan on the first of November, 1790. You will look in vain for any
notice of him, or of his services in the cause of illustrative art, in
any of the biographical dictionaries of his own or a subsequent period;
and this appears to us an unaccountable omission, for he achieved in his
time considerable celebrity as an artistic illustrator of books. His
work will be found bound up with that of most of his artistic
_confrères_ in nearly all the illustrated periodicals of his day; he was
one of the first to introduce wood-engraving among English publishers as
a means of cheap and popular illustration; he was employed by the late
Mr. Ingram, in the designs for the early Christmas numbers of the
_Illustrated London News_; he will be found amongst the number of the
artists who illustrated the early volumes of _Punch_; he was in
universal request as a designer of drawings to fairy and fanciful
stories; among his intimate friends were men of mark; such as Leigh
Hunt, Douglas Jerrold, Charles Dickens, W. M. Thackeray, Clarkson
Stanfield, David Roberts, and the Landseers; he did as much for
illustrative art as, perhaps, any artist of his time; and yet, amongst
men whose abilities scarcely exceeded his own in the same particular
walk in art, no place is to be found in any biographical dictionary, so
far at least as we know, for any mention of poor, kindly, genial, Kenny

Besides the popular illustrated periodicals of his day, in most of which
his familiar initials may be recognised, Kenny Meadows was in almost
universal request both amongst authors and publishers of the time. We
find him in 1832 illustrating, with Isaac Robert Cruikshank, a
periodical bearing the somewhat unpromising title of "The Devil in
London." To an 1833 edition of "Gil Blas," illustrated by George
Cruikshank, he contributed a frontispiece; and we find his hand in the
following: the late J. B. Buckstone's dramas of "The Wreck Ashore,"
"Victorine," "May Queen," "Henriette," "Rural Felicity," "Pet of the
Petticoats," "Married Life," "The Rake and his Pupil," "The
Christening," "Isabella," "Second Thoughts," and "The Scholar" (1835,
1836); Whitehead's "Autobiography of Jack Ketch" (1835); "Heads of the
People, or Portraits of the English" (1841); Mr. S. C. Hall's "Book of
British Ballads" (1842-44); an 1842 edition of Moore's "Lalla Rookh";
Leigh Hunt's "Palfrey, a Love Story of Old Times" (1842); "The
Illuminated Magazine" (1843); Shakespeare (1843); "Whist, its History
and Practice"; "Backgammon, its History and Practice," by the same
author; "The Illustrated London Almanacks" (from 1845 upwards); Sir
Edward Lytton Bulwer's "Leila," and "Calderon" (1847); W. N. Bailey's
"Illustrated Musical Annual," "The Family Joe Miller, a Drawing-room
Jest Book" (1848); "Puck," (a comic serial, 1848); Laman Blanchard's
"Sketches from Life" (1849); Samuel Lover's "Metrical Tales and Poems;"
"The Magic of Kindness," by the brothers Mayhew; Mrs. S. C. Hall's
"Midsummer Eve;" "Punch," up to and including the seventh volume; and
(some time afterwards) its able opponent "The Man in the Moon" (now
exceedingly scarce).[177] In these and very many other works we find him
associated not only with George Cruikshank, John Leech, Hablot Knight
Browne, and Richard Doyle, but with artists occupying the position of
Sir John Gilbert, Frank Stone, Maclise, Clarkson Stanfield, Creswick, E.
M. Ward, Elmore, Frost, Sir J. Noel Paton, Frederick Goodall, Thomas
Landseer, F. W. Popham, Fairholt, Harrison Weir, Redgrave, Corbould, and
Stephanoff. He was a thoroughly useful man; and a thousand examples of
quaint imaginings--oftentimes of graceful workmanship--might be culled
from the various works and serials in which his hand may be readily

But the merits of Kenny Meadows as an illustrator of books are very
unequal. His friend, Mr. Hodder, who gives us in his pleasant "Memories"
an occasional note of some of the artists with whom he was thrown in
contact, says of him: "The quiet, unostentatious way in which he worked
at his art, too often under the most adverse and discouraging
circumstances, and the pride which he displayed when he felt he had made
a 'happy hit,' was somewhat like the enthusiasm of a youth who had first
attained the honour of a prize. As a draughtsman he never cared to be
guided by those practical laws which regulate the academic exercise of
the pictorial art; for he contended that too strict an adherence to
nature only trammelled him, and he preferred relying upon the thought
conveyed in his illustrations, rather than upon the mechanical
correctness of his outline or perspective." George Cruikshank showed, as
we know, a tolerable contempt for nature when he undertook the
delineation of a horse, a woman, or a tree; but it was one of the
conditions of his _genius_ that it should be left free and untrammelled
to follow the dictates of its own inspiration, and the quaint effect
which somehow or other he managed to impart to a design which, in its
details might offend the educated taste of the art critic, made us
forget the contempt too often displayed for those "practical laws" to
which Mr. Hodder refers. To constitute a good comic artist, not only is
it necessary that he should be a good draughtsman, but certain special
gifts are indispensable,--a keen sense of the ridiculous, an inherent
appreciation of humour, a quick and ready invention, qualities which no
amount of artificial training will bestow. They were possessed in an
eminent degree by Gillray, by Cruikshank, by John Leech, but were wholly
wanting to Kenny Meadows. He could draw on occasion a queer face--for
that matter his faces, intentionally or otherwise, were generally
queer--and an eccentric figure, and so can many persons who have a
natural taste for drawing, and have learnt to handle the pencil; but the
caricaturist, like the poet, _nasciiur non fit_, and a hundred or even a
thousand queer faces or eccentric figures, without the gift of invention
or originality, will not of themselves constitute the designer a comic
artist. The truth is that with Kenny Meadows mannerism takes the place
of genius. You will recognise his hand anywhere without the familiar
"K.M." appended to it, for all his faces are chubby (not to say puffy),
and their arms and legs look for all the world as if the hand that
designed them had been guided by a ruler. The delusion which led him to
imagine that his "genius" would enable him to soar superior to nature is
no doubt responsible in some degree for this latter eccentricity, for
the artist who would be bold enough to despise the laws "which regulate
the exercise of the pictorial art," would be prepared to view Hogarth's
line of beauty with like indifference and contempt.

Kenny Meadows was one of the early illustrators of _Punch_, and
contributed moreover to the first volume some of the best of the
cartoons. Good specimens of his work will be found in _Young Loves to
Sell_, and _The Speculative Mama_ (_sic_), second vol.; in the third
volume he illustrated "Punch's Letters to His Son," and the first of the
almanacks contains six of his designs. In the fourth volume we find six
of his cartoons, among them _The Milk of Poor Law Kindness_, and _The
First Tooth_ (the Queen and infant Prince of Wales); the doctor's legs
and shoes are thoroughly characteristic of his style, and look for all
the world as if they had been drawn by a ruler. The cartoon, _Punch
Turned Out of France_ in this volume is, if we mistake not, the work of
Kenny Meadows. _The Christian Bayadere Worshipping the Idol Siva_, has
reference to the tolerance which "John Company" wisely conceded to
Hindoo religious ceremony, so long as its traditions were found
consistent with the ordinary dictates of humanity. "The Story of a
Feather" in this volume has five illustrations, two of which are very
clever. Among the other cartoons we find _The Modern Macheath_ (the
Captain being Sir Robert Peel). The fifth volume contains eight of his
illustrations, six being cartoons; among them, _The Irish Frankenstein_
(badly imagined and atrociously drawn), _The Water Drop_ and the _Gin
Drop_ are characterized by much poverty of invention, but the former is
the best of the two. _The Battle of the Alphabet_ (cartoon) is a better
specimen of his work, although the legs and arms look as usual, as if
drawn with a ruler. The sixth volume contains three of his cartoons,
while the almanack of the year (1844) has several of his illustrations.
To the seventh volume he contributed no less than thirty-one
illustrations, some very good, one of the best being that of the two
legal dogs quarrelling over a bone of litigation. _Punch_ at the outset
of his career had considerable difficulty in the selection of a graphic
satirist, and one of his "right hand men" in those early days was a Mr.
Henning, by whose side Kenny Meadows figures as an absolute genius.
After his seventh volume, however, he met with artists better fitted to
interpret his political and social views, and no trace of Meadows'
useful hand appears in succeeding volumes.

In stating that the merits of Kenny Meadows as an illustrator of books
are unequal, and in denying to him the possession of genius, we must not
be held to imply that he was deficient of talent. An excellent example
of the inequality of which we speak will be found in his Shakespeare
(Robert Tyas, 1843), a work selected by us for the reason that it was
considered by himself and his two favourable friends as his masterpiece.
Although we cannot stay to notice all the strange conceptions with which
he has enriched this book, we may be permitted to wonder whence he
derived his preposterous ideas of Caliban, of Malvolio, of Shylock, of
Juliet's nurse, of Launce's unhappy dog, of the Egpytian[ Sphynx in
"Antony and Cleopatra." The model of Shylock was evidently some "old
clo'" dealer in Petticoat Lane. The figure of Armado ("Love's Labour's
Lost") is so wonderfully put together that his anatomy must sooner or
later fall to pieces; the ghost of Hamlet's father is the ghost of some
colossal statue, certainly not the shade of one who had worn the guise
of ordinary humanity. The head of the gentle Juliet might derive benefit
from the application of a bottle of invigorating hair wash. The figure
of the monk in "Romeo and Juliet" literally cut out of wood, carries as
much expression in its face as a lay figure; while the walls of
Northampton Castle (in "King John") are so much out of the
perpendicular, that the courtiers seem less concerned at finding the
dead body of Arthur, than in seeking a place of shelter from the
impending downfall. Henry the Eighth, although acknowledged to be a
corpulent, was not, so far as we know, a deformed man; the preposterous
"beak" of Richard the Third occupies one half of his otherwise
remarkably short face, and its owner (in the well-known tent scene)
suffers from an attack of tetanus instead of an accession of mental
terror. These eccentric realizations, in which he has succeeded in
setting all the rules of drawing at defiance, are rendered the more
remarkable by reason of the circumstance that the work now under
consideration is interspersed with numerous charming drawings, the
effect of which is wholly marred by these erratic performances. Meadows
was an admirable water-colour artist, and a scarce edition of this work
contains some engravings of Shakespearian heroines after his designs.
The Germans fancy they understand Shakespeare better than ourselves (an
amiable and complimentary weakness), and the work was favourably
received in Germany, the artist's conception of Falstaff, in particular,
being so highly appreciated that a bronze statuette was modelled after
it, which enjoyed a large sale.

His ideas of female beauty were almost as eccentric as those of
Cruikshank. A couple of beauties of the Meadows type will be found at
page 3 of Henry Cockton's "Sisters" (Nodes, 1844), where one lady is
represented to us with a neck like that of a giraffe, whilst her sister
beauty is sensibly inconvenienced by a lock of hair which has strayed
into her eye,--a favourite device, by the way, of the artist. This book,
now scarce (in the illustration of which he was assisted by Alfred
Crowquill), is adorned with a portrait on steel, after a painting by
Childe, in which the author is presented to us in a white waistcoat and
dress coat, with a pen in his hand, leading us to the inference that his
clumsily constructed novels (one of which--"Valentine Vox," thanks
perhaps to the illustrator, Onwhyn--still holds its ground) were written
in evening costume.

But notwithstanding these failures, Kenny Meadows has happily left
behind him work of a very much better kind. His Christmas pictures in
particular are impressed with the kindly, genial humour which
characterized the man; the "Illuminated Magazine," a scarce and valuable
work, contains sixty-three very fine specimens of his pencillings,
including the illustrations to his friend Douglas Jerrold's "Chronicles
of Clovernook," admirable in every respect, probably the finest designs
he ever executed. The wood engravings in this charming serial have
probably never been surpassed; we seldom see woodcuts in these days
which equal the splendid workmanship of E. Landells.[178] After the
third volume, the "Illuminated Magazine" passed into other hands, and
although Kenny Meadows continued its mainstay for a time, the rest of
the excellent artists left, and the literary matter visibly declined.

To the famous "Gallery of Comicalities" Kenny Meadows contributed
_Sketches from Lavater_ and _Phisogs of the Traders of London_. During
the last decade of his life his services in the cause of illustrative
art were rewarded and recognised by a pension from the Civil List of £80
per annum. Like George Cruikshank he remained hale and vigorous to the
last, proud of his age, and fond of asserting there was "life in the old
dog yet." That this was no idle boast may be inferred from the fact that
within a few months of his death he was engaged in painting a subject
from his favourite Shakespeare. At the time of his death (in August,
1874) he had almost completed his eighty-fifth year.

       *       *       *       *       *

In hunting up materials for the present work, we have come at various
times upon editions (specimens, perhaps, might be the better word) of
the "Pickwick Papers," which will possess an interest in the eyes of the
collector. The first issue, in the original green sporting covers
designed by Seymour, is of course exceedingly scarce; we have never
indeed seen a _perfect_ copy, which would probably be worth some ten
pounds, while the same edition bound may be purchased at prices varying
from twenty-four shillings to three guineas, according to the condition
of the volume. An Australian edition was published at Launceston, Van
Dieman's Land, in 1838, with plates after "Phiz" by "Tiz," facsimiles on
stone of the earliest issue of the parts in England. At a West of
England bookseller's we met with a first edition bound up with etchings
by Onwhyn,[179] "Peter Palette," and others. Then there are the
twenty-four etchings from remarkably clever original drawings by Mr. F.
W. Pailthorpe in illustration of scenes in "Pickwick," of which the
proofs before letters were published at three guineas; and lastly, there
is the rare first edition, containing all the plates by Seymour and
"Phiz," supplemented by the two "suppressed" etchings, which are
credited (wrongly) to the hand of Buss.

Among the etchers of book illustration after 1836, we may name ROBERT
WILLIAM BUSS, whose etchings will be found in Mrs. Trollope's "Widow
Married" (a sequel to her "Widow Barnaby"), which made its appearance in
the "New Monthly Magazine" of 1839, and whose hand will also be found in
Marryat's "Peter Simple," "Jacob Faithful," Harrison Ainsworth's "Court
of King James II.," etc. Although his designs lack the genius, the
artistic power, the finish and the comic invention of Leech or
Cruikshank, they show nevertheless that as an etcher and designer he was
possessed of exceptional talent and ability. The first experience,
however, of this able artist as an etcher was peculiarly unfortunate and

When poor Seymour shot himself in 1836, the draughtsman first called in
to supply his place was Robert William Buss. He had been recommended to
Messrs. Chapman and Hall by John Jackson, the wood-engraver, but does
not seem at that time to have had any practical experience of etching,
as he himself explained to the member of the firm who called upon him.
Mr. Buss, in fact, was decidedly indisposed to undertake the work, being
then engaged on a picture he was preparing for exhibition, and he
undertook it only after considerable pressure. He immediately began to
practise the various operations of etching and biting in, and produced a
plate with which the publishers expressed themselves satisfied. Two
subjects were then selected for illustration, _The Cricket Match_, and
_The Fat Boy Watching Mr. Tupman and Miss Wardle_. When, however, Mr.
Buss began to etch them on the plate, he found, having had little or no
experience in laying his ground, that it holed up under the etching
point; and as time was precious, he placed the plates in the hands of an
experienced engraver to be etched and bitten in. Had opportunity been
given him, his son (from whom we take this account) tells us he would
have cancelled these plates and issued fresh ones of his own etching.
Designs were prepared by him for the following number, when he received
an intimation that the work of illustrating the "Pickwick Papers" had
been placed in other hands. The illustrations referred to were
suppressed, and the collectors who are so anxious to secure an edition
with the two "Buss plates," will be pleased to learn that, although the
design was his, not one line of the etchings which bear his name are due
to the artist's point.[180]

The father of Robert William was an engraver and enameller, and under
his directions he acquired a knowledge of this technical branch of art;
but evincing a taste and preference for drawing and painting, he became
a pupil of George Clint, A.R.A., under whose direction he studied
subject and portrait painting. He painted fifteen theatrical portraits
for Mr. Cumberland in illustration of his "British Drama," and a
collection of these works was afterwards exhibited at that melancholy
monument to past exhibitions, the Colosseum in the Regent's Park. He was
employed by Charles Knight in the illustrations to his "Shakespeare,"
"London," "Old England," "Chaucer," and the now forgotten "Penny
Magazine," for all of which publications he executed many designs on

It must not be supposed because Robert William Buss was not considered
the right man to illustrate "Pickwick," that he was therefore an
indifferent draughtsman. His finest book etchings are probably those
which he executed for Harrison Ainsworth's novel of "The Court of James
II."; but in a higher and far more ambitious walk in art he was not only
more successful, but achieved in his time a considerable reputation.
Among his pictures may be mentioned one of _Christmas in the Olden
Time_, which, apart from its merits as a painting, showed that he
possessed considerable antiquarian knowledge. Other works of his are,
_The Frosty Morning_, purchased by Lord Charles Townshend; _The Stingy
Traveller_, bought by the Duchess of St. Albans; _The Wooden Walls of
Old England_, the property of Lord Coventry; _Soliciting a Vote_, and
_Chairing the Member_; _The Musical Bore_; _The Frosty Reception_;
_Master's Out_; _Time and Tide Wait for no Man_; _Shirking the Plate_;
_The First of September_; _The Introduction of Tobacco_; _The Biter
Bit_; _The Romance_; and _Satisfaction_. For Mr. Hogarth, of the
Haymarket, he painted four small subjects illustrative of Christmas,
entitled, _The Waits_; _Bringing in the Boar's Head_; _The Yule Log_,
and _The Wassail Bowl_; all afterwards engraved. For Mr. James Haywood,
M.P., he executed a series of drawings illustrative of student life at
Oxford, Cambridge, Durham, London, and Paris; while two vast subjects,
_The Origin of Music_ and _The Triumph of Music_ (each twenty feet wide
by nine feet high), were painted for the Earl of Hardwick, and are, or
lately were, in the music saloon at Wimpole, in Cambridgeshire. His
pictures were seventy-one in number, twenty-five of which were engraved.
On the whole, therefore, Robert William Buss might afford to bear the
refusal of Charles Dickens's patronage with equanimity.

The paintings and etchings of Robert William Buss evince a strong
leaning in the direction of comic art, a taste which prompted him, in
1853, to deliver at various towns in the United Kingdom a course of very
successful and interesting lectures on caricature and graphic satire,
illustrated by several hundred examples executed by himself. In 1874,
the year before his death, he published for the amusement of his
friends, and for private circulation only, the substance of these
lectures, under the title of "English Graphic Satire and its Relation to
Different Styles of Painting, Sculpture, and Engraving." The numerous
illustrations to this work were those drawn for his lectures by the
artist, and reproduced for his book by the process of photo-lithography.
So far as comic art and caricaturists of the nineteenth century are
concerned, the author has comparatively little to say; but the work is
valuable as regards the subject generally, and might have been published
with advantage to the public. The artist delivered also lectures on "The
Beautiful and the Picturesque," as well as on "Fresco Painting."

Mr. Buss, if not very original as a comic designer, possessed
nevertheless a keen sense of humour. One of his pictures (engraved by H.
Rolls), entitled _Time and Tide Wait for no Man_, represents an artist,
sketching by the sea-shore, so absorbed in the contemplation of nature
that he remains unconscious of the fast inflowing tide, and deaf to the
warnings of the fisherman who is seen hailing him from the beach.

       *       *       *       *       *

The comic publications which either preceded or ran side by side with
_Punch_ had for the most part a somewhat short and unsatisfactory
career. Perhaps the most successful of them was _Figaro in London_,
1831-36, which we have already noticed. _The Wag_, a long-forgotten
publication, enjoyed a very transient existence. In 1832 appeared
_Punchinello_, on the pages of which Isaac Robert Cruikshank was
engaged. _Punchinello_, however, ceased running after its tenth number.
_Asmodeus in London_, notwithstanding the support it derived from
Seymour's pencil, was by no means a commercial success. _The Devil in
London_ was a little more fortunate. This periodical commenced running
on the 29th of February, 1832, and the illustrations of Isaac Robert
Cruikshank and Kenny Meadows enabled it to reach its thirty-seventh
number. Tom Dibdin's _Penny Trumpet_ ignominiously blew itself out after
the fourth number. _The Schoolmaster at Home_, notwithstanding Seymour's
graphic exertions, collapsed at its sixth number. _The Whig Dresser_,
illustrated by Heath, enjoyed an existence exactly of twelve numbers.
_The Squib_ (1842) lasted for thirty weeks before it exploded and went
out. _Puck_ (1848), illustrated by W. Hine, Kenny Meadows, and Gilbert,
died the twenty-fifth week after its first publication. _Chat_ ran its
course in 1850 and 1851. _The Man in the Moon_, under the literary
guidance of Shirley Brooks, Albert Smith, G. A. Sala, and the Brothers
Brough, enjoyed a comparatively glorious career of two years and a half.
_Diogenes_ (started in 1853, under the literary conduct of Watts
Phillips, the Broughs, Halliday, and Angus Bethune Reach),
notwithstanding the graphic help rendered by McConnell[181] and Charles
H. Bennett, gave up the ghost in 1854. _Punchinello_ (second of the
name) flickered and went out at the seventh number. _Judy_ (the
predecessor of the present paper) appeared 1st February, 1843, but soon
died a natural death. _Town Talk_, edited by Halliday and illustrated by
McConnell, lasted a very limited time. _London_, started by George
Augustus Sala in rivalry of _Punch_, soon ceased running; while the
_Puppet Show_, notwithstanding the ability of Mr. Procter, enjoyed but
a very brief and transitory existence. The strong and healthy
constitution of _Punch_ enabled him not only to outlive all these, but
even a publication superior in some important respects to himself. We
allude to the _Tomahawk_, whose cartoons are certainly the most powerful
and outspoken satires which have appeared since the days of

Among the draughtsmen whom _Punch_ called in to help him in his early
days was a useful and ingenious artist, inferior in many respects to
Kenny Meadows, his name was ALFRED HENRY FORRESTER, better known to most
of us under his _nom de guerre_ of "Alfred Crowquill." The scribes of
the "Catnach," or Seven Dials school, of literature are satirized by
Forrester (in the second volume), wherein we see a "Literary Gentleman"
hard at work at his vocation of a scribe of cheap and deleterious
literature, consulting his authorities--"The Annals of Crime," a "Last
Dying Speech and Confession," and the "Newgate Calendar." In _The
Footman_ we have a gorgeous figure, adorned with epaulets, lace, and a
cocked hat, reading (of all things in the world) the "Loves of the
Angels," over a bottle of hock and soda-water! _The Pursuit of Matrimony
under Difficulties_ is a more ambitious performance. "Punch's Guide to
the Watering Places" (vol. iii.) is illustrated with a number of
coarsely executed cuts, wholly destitute of merit; the fourth volume
contains a cartoon entitled _Private Opinions_. But the graphic humour
of Alfred Crowquill, although amusing and sometimes bright and
sparkling, was unsuited to the requirements of a periodical such as
_Punch_. As better men came forward, he gradually dropped out of its
pages, and we see nothing more of him after the fourth volume.

  ALFRED CROWQUILL. _From "The Book of Days."_


  _Face p. 368._]

Alfred Crowquill was a sort of "general utility" man, essaying the
character of a _littérateur_ as well as that of an artist, and achieving
as a natural consequence no permanent success in either. In his literary
capacity, Alfred Henry Forrester made his first appearance (we believe)
in "The Hive," and "The Mirror," under the editorship of Mr. Timbs;
while as an artist he illustrated his own writings, besides those of a
host of other authors. An early effort of his pencil is entitled, _Der
Freyschutz Travestied_; this was followed by "Alfred Crowquill's Sketch
Books," which were dedicated to the (then) Princess Victoria, by command
of the Duchess of Kent. We find him afterwards employed on the pages of
the "New Monthly," but on the death of its editor, Mr. Theodore Hook,
his useful talents procured him an engagement on the staff of "Bentley's
Miscellany," to whose pages he was not only an indefatigable
contributor, but rendered it substantial assistance in its difficulties
with George Cruikshank. The best of his illustrative works (mostly
designs on wood) were executed for this periodical, and selections were
afterwards collected and published under the title of "The
Phantasmagoria of Fun."

  ALFRED CROWQUILL. _From "The Book of Days."_


  "When any person passed through Highgate for the first time on his way
  to London, he, being brought before the horns, had a mock oath
  administered to him, to the effect that he would never drink small beer
  when he could get strong, unless he liked it better; that he would
  never eat brown bread when he could get white, or water-gruel, when he
  could command turtle-soup; that he would never make love to the maid
  when he might to the mistress; and so on  .  according to the wit of the
  imposer of the oath, and simplicity of the oath-taker."

  _Face p. 369._]

In these days a man like Forrester would be almost at a discount, but at
the time when he started there was less competition, and a useful,
clever man, like he undoubtedly was, was fortunately not lost. His
hands, in fact, were always full, and a list of some of the books to
which his pen and his pencil contributed will be found in the Appendix.
One of the best of his designs was a title-page he executed for a work
published by Kent & Co., under the title of "Merry Pictures by the Comic
Hands of Alfred Crowquill, Doyle, Meadows, Hine, and Others" (1857), a
_réchauffage_ of cuts and illustrations which had previously done duty
for books of an ephemeral character, such as "The Gent," "The Ballet
Girl," and even of the superior order of "Gavarni in London."[183] Some
excellent designs executed by him on wood will be found in Messrs.
Chambers' "Book of Days." In his dual character of a writer and comic
artist, Crowquill was an inveterate punster. Leaves from his "Memorandum
Book" (1834) will give us a good idea of his style. In "Tea Leaves for
Breakfast," _Strong Black_ is represented by a sturdy negro carrying a
heavy basket; a tall youth with a small father personating _Hyson_; a
housemaid shaking a hall mat, to the discomfort of herself and the
passers-by, is labelled _Fine dust_; a cockney accidentally discharging
his fowling-piece does duty for _Gunpowder_; while _Mixed_ is aptly
personified by a curious group of masqueraders. The vowels put in a
comical appearance: _A_ with his hands behind him listens to _E_, who
points to _I_ as the subject of his remarks, which must be of a
scandalous character, as the injured vowel looks the picture of anger
and astonishment. _E_ finds a ready listener in _O_, who opens his mouth
and extends his hands in real or simulated amazement and horror.

Crowquill was a clever caricaturist, and began work when he was only
eighteen. We have seen some able satires of his executed between the
years 1823 and 1826 inclusive. One of the best, published by S. Knight
in 1825, is entitled, _Paternal Pride_: "Dear Doctor, don't you think my
little Billy is like me?" "The very picture of you in every feature!"
_Ups and Downs_ (Knights, 1823), comprise "Take Up" (a Bow Street
runner); "Speak Up" (a barrister); "Hang Up" (a hangman); "Let-em-Down"
(a coachman); "Knock-em-Down" (an auctioneer); "Screw-em-Down" (an
undertaker). The following are given as _Four Specimens of the Reading
Public_ (Fairburn, 1826): "Romancing Molly," "Sir Lacey Luscious," a
"Political Dustman," and "French à la Mode." Two, in which he was
assisted by George Cruikshank, entitled, _Indigestion_, and _Jealousy_,
will be found in the volume published (and republished) under the name
of "Cruikshankiana." The latter shows on the face of it that, while
Crowquill was responsible for the design, the etching and a large share
of the invention are due to Cruikshank.

If not a genius, the man was talented and clever,--a universal
favourite. He could draw, he could write; he was an admirable vocalist,
setting the table in a roar with his medley of songs. Even as a painter
he was favourably known. _Temperance and Intemperance_ were engraved
from his painting in oils, and called forth a letter of thanks from
the great apostle of temperance, Father Mathew himself. Other works were
_The Ups and Downs of Life_, the well-known _President_ and _Vice
President_ (both engraved), and many others. A clever artist in "black
and white," two of his pen-and-ink sketches--_The Huntsman's Rest_ and
_The Solitary_--were honoured with a place among the drawings at the
Royal Academy Exhibition of 1846. His talents did not end here; most of
the Christmas pantomimes of his time were indebted to him for clever
designs, devices, and effects. The kindly, genial, gifted man died in
1872, in his sixty-eighth year.

       *       *       *       *       *

  CHAS. H. BENNETT. _"Shadow and Substance."_

    "... creeping like a snail
     Unwillingly to school."--AS YOU LIKE IT.

  _Face p. 371._]

Some of our readers may possibly remember seeing in one of the comic
publications published concurrently with or shortly after the appearance
of Mr. Charles Darwin's work, a series of comical designs ridiculing the
theory of the "origin of species" in a manner which must have astonished
as well as amused the learned philosopher. The origin of the genus
_footman_, and of the dish he carries to his master's table, is traced
out as follows: The dish carries a bone, which eventually finds its way
into the jaws of a mongrel cur with a peculiarly short tail. The process
then goes merrily onwards; the dog gradually develops; his skin turns
into a suit of livery with buttons, the dog-collar gradually assumes the
form of a footman's tie, until the process is ended and the species
complete. In like manner, a cat develops into a spinster aunt; a monkey
into a mischievous urchin; a pig into a gourmand; a sheep into a country
bumpkin; a weasel into a lawyer; a dancing bear into a garrotter; a
shark into a money-lender; a snail into the schoolboy to which
Shakespeare likens him; a fish into a toper, and so on. These
"developments" (twenty in number), which were dedicated to Mr. Darwin,
are signed "C. H. B." and these are the initials of CHARLES H. BENNETT,
one of the gentlest, most promising, and withal most original graphic
humourists of the century.

Amongst the earliest of the serials which he illustrated was, we
believe, _Diogenes_, a sort of rival of _Punch_, which made its
appearance and ran a brief course in 1853-4. Associated with him in the
illustrations were McConnell and Watts Phillips, the latter of whom
contributed largely also to the literary matter. We find a clever design
of his (in Leech's style) in the second volume: "Now, gentlemen of the
jury," says a brazen-faced barrister, "I throw myself upon your
impartial judgment as husbands and fathers, and I confidently ask, Does
the prisoner [the most murderous-looking ruffian un-hung] look like a
man who would knock down and trample upon the wife of his bosom?
Gentlemen, I have done!"

There was considerable originality in the designs of Bennett, which is
more particularly manifested in the well-known series of humorous
sketches in which the effect intended to be produced is effected by
means of the _shadows_ of the figures represented, which are supposed to
indicate their distinguishing failings and characteristics. Among them
may be mentioned a tipsy woman amused at the _shadow_ cast by her own
figure of a gin bottle; an undertaker, in his garb of woe wrung from the
pockets of widows and orphans, casts the appropriate shadow of a
crocodile; a red-nosed old hospital nurse of a tea-pot; a worn-out
seamstress of a skeleton; a mischievous street boy of a monkey; an angry
wife sitting up for a truant husband of an extinguisher; a tall,
conceited-looking parson, with a long coat, of a pump; while a sweep,
with his "machine," to his mortal terror beholds his own shadow
preceding him in the guise of Beelzebub himself. The series is continued
in a work published by W. Kent & Co. in 1860, under the title of "Shadow
and Substance," the letterpress of which is contributed to Bennett's
pictures by Robert B. Brough. Literary work of this description, like
William Combe's "Doctor Syntax," is necessarily unsatisfactory; but the
pictures themselves are distinctly inferior to the series which preceded
them, the best being _Old Enough to Know Better_,--a bald-headed,
superannuated old sinner behind the scenes, presenting a bouquet to a
ballet girl, his figure casting a _shadow_ on the back of the scene of a
bearded, long-eared, horned old goat.

  CHAS. H. BENNETT. "_Shadow and Substance._"


  _Face p. 372._]

We are in no position to give a detailed list of Charles Bennett's work,
which was of a very miscellaneous kind, comprising among others a series
of slight outline portraits of members of parliament, which appeared
in the _Illustrated Times_, an edition of the "Pilgrim's Progress,"
edited by the Rev. Charles Kingsley; "John Todd," a work by the Rev.
John Allen; "Shadows," and "Shadow and Substance," just spoken of;
"Proverbs, with Pictures by Charles H. Bennett," etc., etc. His talent
at last attracted the notice of the weekly _Punch_ council, and he
received the coveted distinction of being engaged on the permanent staff
of that periodical.

His life, however, was a brief one. The diary of Shirley Brooks, who
took much personal interest in him, refers with some anxiety to his
illness on the 30th of March, 1867. On the 31st of March the report was
somewhat more favourable; but the 2nd of April brought a letter from the
editor of _Punch_, Mark Lemon, which said that Charles Bennett had died
between the hours of eight and nine o'clock that morning. "I am very
sorry," adds Shirley Brooks in an autograph note appended beneath the
letter referred to. "B[ennett] was a man whom one could not help loving
for his gentleness, and a wonderful artist." The obituary notice by the
same hand which appears in _Punch_ records that "he was a very able
colleague, a very dear friend. None of our fellow-workers," it
continues, "ever entered more heartily into his work, or laboured with
more earnestness to promote our general purpose. His facile execution
and singular subtilty of fancy were, we hoped, destined to enrich these
pages for many a year. It has been willed otherwise, and we lament the
loss of a comrade of invaluable skill, and the death of one of the
kindliest and gentlest of our associates, the power of whose hand was
equalled by the goodness of his heart." Charles Bennett was only
thirty-seven when he died.

He left a widow and eight children unprovided for, for his health having
precluded it, no life insurance had been effected. The _Punch_ men,
however, with the unselfishness which so nobly characterizes them, put
their shoulders to the wheel for the family of their stricken comrade.
"We shall have to do something," said Shirley Brooks in his diary of the
3rd of April; and they did it accordingly. A committee was immediately
started, on which we find the names of Messrs. Arthur Lewis,[184]
Wilbert Beale, Mark Lemon, Du Maurier, John Tenniel, Arthur Sullivan,
and W. H. Bradbury. Then came rehearsals, and, on the 11th of May, a
performance at the Adelphi in aid of the Bennett fund. Mr. Arthur
Sullivan had, in conjunction with Mr. F. C. Burnand, converted the
well-known farce of "Box and Cox" into an operetta of the most ludicrous
description. This was the opening piece--the forerunner of "Pinafore,"
"Pirates," "Patience," and other triumphs. Arthur Sullivan himself
conducted, and the players were Mr. Du Maurier, Mr. Quinton, and Mr.
Arthur Blunt. Then followed "A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing," in which
Mesdames Kate Terry, Florence Terry, Mrs. Stoker, Mrs. Watts (the
present Ellen Terry), and Messrs. Mark Lemon, Tom Taylor, Tenniel,
Burnand, Silver, Pritchett, and Horace Mayhew took part. This was
succeeded by Offenbach's "Blind Beggars," who were admirably personated
by Mr. Du Maurier and Mr. Harold Power. The evening concluded with a
number of part songs and madrigals sung by the Moray Minstrels--so
called from their chiefly performing at Moray Lodge, the residence of
Mr. Arthur Lewis. Between the two portions of their entertainment,
Shirley Brooks came on and delivered an address written by himself,
which contained the following allusion to him for whose family the
generous work had been undertaken:--

  "Only some friends of a lost friend, whose name
   Is all the inheritance his children claim
   (Save memory of his goodness), think it due
   To make some brief acknowledgment to you.
   Brief but not cold; some thanks that you have come
   And helped us to secure that saddened home,
   Where eight young mourners round a mother weep
   A fond and dear loved father's sleep.

   Take it from us--and with this word we end
   All sad allusion to our parted friend--
   That for a better purpose generous hearts
   Ne'er prompted liberal hands to do their parts.
   You knew his power, his satire keen but fair,
   And the rich fancy, served by skill as rare.
   You did not know, except some friendly few,
   That he was earnest, gentle, patient, true.
   A better soldier doth life's battle lack,
   And he has died with harness on his back."



  _Back to p. 375._]


  _Back to p. 375._]

The last verse alludes to Kate Terry's approaching marriage:--

  "Last, but not least, in your dear love and ours,
   There is a head we'd crown with all our flowers.
   Our kindest thanks to her whose smallest grace
   Is the bewitchment of her fair young face.
   Our own Kate Terry comes, to show how much
   The truest art does with the lightest touch.
   Make much of her while still before your eyes--
   A star may glide away to other skies."

By this performance, a second which took place at Manchester on the 29th
of July, and the efforts of Shirley Brooks and the members of the
committee, a large sum was raised.

       *       *       *       *       *

The _Punch_ volumes, prior to his withdrawal from its pages, are
interspersed with numerous mirth-provoking drawings on wood by the late
Mr. THACKERAY. Probably the best of these will be found in the "Novels
by Eminent Hands," in one of which (in amusing burlesque of _Phiz's_
spirited title-page to "Charles O'Malley") we see the hero flying over
the heads of the French army. Charles Lever was nervously sensitive to
ridicule, and, although he laughed at and enjoyed the clever _jeux
d'esprit_ in which "Phil Fogarty," "Harry Jolly-cur," "Harry Rollicker,"
etc., put in their respective appearances, he declared nevertheless,
with evident vexation, that he himself might just as well retire from
business altogether. This, indeed, he proceeded to do; and although we
miss from that time the rattling heroes of the Frank Webber and Charles
O'Malley school, we are indebted to Thackeray for the striking proof
which Charles Lever was thus enabled to afford us of the versatility of
a genius which enabled him to change front and alter his style with
manifest advantage to his literary reputation.

The fact of his waiting upon Dickens at his chambers in Furnival's Inn
"with two or three drawings in his hand, which strange to say he did not
find suitable" for "Pickwick," has been told so often that there is no
occasion for repeating it again; but the circumstances under which he
seems to have sought the interview not being, so far as we know, stated
anywhere, we shall now proceed to relate them. Thackeray was in London
when Seymour shot himself in 1836. The death of the latter caused a
vacancy in the post of illustrator to "Figaro in London," which at that
time Seymour was illustrating as well as "Pickwick," and such vacancy
was supplied by Thackeray, who, I think, continued to illustrate it
until the paper died a natural death. His designs for "Figaro in London"
were drawn in pen and ink on paper, and transferred to the wood by the
engravers, Messrs. Branstone and Wright, and the remuneration he
received for them was very trifling, at most a few shillings each. It
was probably this circumstance which put into his head the idea of
illustrating "Pickwick." From what we know of the graphic abilities of
Thackeray and the fastidious requirements of Dickens, we may readily
understand why the post rendered vacant by Seymour's suicide was given
to an abler artist.

We wish that from a work dealing with comic art in the nineteenth
century the name of Mr. Thackeray might be omitted; for no notice of
him, however short, would be just or complete which failed to refer to
his book illustrations. To do this we must separate Thackeray the artist
from Thackeray the man of letters. Regarding him simply in the character
of illustrator of the novels of W. M. Thackeray, we are bound in justice
to the memory of that great and sterling humourist, to say that he has
undertaken a task which is manifestly beyond his powers. While Thackeray
with his _pen_ could most effectively describe a fascinating woman, like
Becky Sharp, the illusion vanishes the moment his artist essays to draw
her portrait with his pencil. While Thackeray's women are pretty and
fascinating, well dressed and accomplished, the artist's women on the
contrary are hideous; their waists commence somewhere in the region of
their knees; and their clothes look as if they had been piled on their
back with a pitchfork. The same remarks apply to the men; while the
originals are witty or clever, handsome or well-dressed, those presented
to us by the artist are destitute of calf, and their limbs so curiously
constructed that the free use of them as nature intended would be a
matter of utter impossibility. Those defects are the more noticeable
because the artist has shown in his admirable essays on George
Cruikshank and John Leech how thoroughly he was alive to the possession
of artistic genius in others.

The admiration which we have for Thackeray the man of letters, and the
way in which we have already expressed that admiration, render it
unlikely that the drift of these remarks will be misunderstood. While
rejoicing that the admirable tales and satires of the humourist are
uninjured by illustrations which are altogether unworthy of them, we
venture to suggest how much better the result might have been had the
latter been entrusted, as in the case of "The Newcomes," to other hands,
and the artist contented himself with the initial letters and designs on
wood with which his writings are pleasantly interspersed. We have seen
it somewhere stated (we think in the volume entitled "Thackerayana")
that the author's rapid facility of sketching was the one great
impediment to his attainment of excellence in illustrative art. Some of
his designs indeed bear on their face evidence of the rapidity with
which they were thrown off; but no satisfactory explanation appears to
be possible of his contempt for what Mr. Hodder has termed the
"practical laws which regulate the academic exercise of the pictorial
art," and his apparent ignorance of the art of balancing his figures so
as to enable them to stand upright, to walk straight, or to move their
limbs with the grace and freedom assigned to them by nature. One of the
designs to "The Virginians" shows a horseman, who in the letterpress is
described as crossing a bridge at full gallop, whereas in the picture
both man and horse will inevitably leap over the parapet into the river
below. Nothing could possibly avert the catastrophe, and the effect thus
produced is due, not to the manifest carelessness and haste with which
the sketch is thrown off, but to a palpable defect in the artistic
powers of the designer himself. Yet in the face of defects so patent and
so palpable we have found it gravely stated, "The world which is loth to
admit high excellence in more than one direction, has never fitly
recognised _Thackeray's great gift as a comic draftsman_. Here [_i.e._
in a work edited by his daughter] he will be found advantageously
represented; inferior, it is true to the unjustly neglected Hablot
Browne ('Phiz'), _but often equalling if not sometimes surpassing the
greatly over-rated John Leech_."




  _Back to p. 378._]

Ay! "the world _is_ loth to admit high excellence in more than one
direction," and experience has taught it that few men, however gifted,
are capable of exercising two different arts with an equal measure of
success. Thackeray was both a genius and an artist, but the world has
long recognised the fact that the former manifested itself only when he
laid down the pencil and took up the pen. If called on to _prove_ his
incapacity to illustrate his own work, we will refer the reader to his
admirable novel of "Vanity Fair." The time selected for the story is the
early part of the present century; and on the plea that he had "not the
heart to disfigure his heroes and heroines" by the correct but "hideous"
costumes of the period, Thackeray has actually habited these men and
women of 1815 in the dress of 1848! Cruikshank, Leech, "Phiz," or Doyle,
it is unnecessary to say, would have been guiltless of such an
absurdity; and the difficulty in which the gifted author found himself,
and the confession of his inability to cope with it, afford the clearest
possible evidence of his utter incapacity to illustrate the story
itself. If any further proof be wanted, look at the designs themselves.
Captain Dobbin would be laughed out of any European military service;
such a guardsman as Rawdon Crawley could find no place in her Majesty's
guards; "Jemima" (at p. 7), "Miss Sharp in the schoolroom" (p. 80), the
children waiting on Miss Crawley (p. 89), the figures in the fencing
scene (p. 207), "The Family Party at Brighton," "Gloriana" trying her
fascinations on the major, "Jos" (at p. 569), and "Becky's second
appearance as Clytemnestra," without meaning to be so, are caricatures
pure and simple; and yet these are admirable compared with the
designs to "The Virginians," which may safely be reckoned amongst the
worst in the entire range of English illustrative art. Contrast them
with illustrations confessedly not up to the severe standard of
excellence required by the art critic, but admirably adapted for their
purpose, Mr. Doyle's etchings to "The Newcomes," and remark the
immeasurable superiority of the latter.

  W. M. THACKERAY. "_The Rose and the Ring._"


  _Back to p. 379._]

And yet, in justice to the great humourist of the nineteenth century,
let us hear what another great writer has to say upon the very
illustrations which seem to us to call for such severe animadversion.
After telling us that Thackeray studied drawing at Paris, affecting
especially Bonnington (the young English artist who died in 1828), Mr.
Anthony Trollope goes on to say, "He never learned to draw,--perhaps
never could have learned. That he was idle and did not do his best, we
may take for granted. He was always idle, and only on some occasions,
when the spirit moved him thoroughly, did he do his best even in after
life. But with drawing--or rather without it--he did wonderfully well,
even when he did his worst. He did illustrate his own books, and every
one knows how incorrect were his delineations. But as illustrations they
were excellent. How often have I wished that characters of my creating
might be sketched as faultily, if with the same appreciation of the
intended purpose. Let any one look at the 'plates,' as they are called,
in 'Vanity Fair,' and compare each with the scenes and the characters
intended to be displayed, and then see whether the artist--if we may
call him so--has not managed to convey in the picture the exact feeling
which he has described in the text. I have a little sketch of his, in
which a cannon-ball is supposed to have just carried off the head of an
aide-de-camp,--messenger I had perhaps better say, lest I might affront
military feelings,--who is kneeling on the field of battle and
delivering a despatch to Marlborough on horseback. The graceful ease
with which the duke receives the message though the messenger's head be
gone, and the soldierlike precision with which the headless hero
finishes his last effort of military obedience, may not have been
portrayed with well-drawn figures, but no finished illustration ever
told its story better."[185] We read these remarks with profound
astonishment, and can only ask in reply: If, as Mr. Trollope has
admitted, Thackeray "never learned to draw,--perhaps never could have
learned," how he could manage "to convey" in any of his pictures "the
exact feeling he has described in the text"?--how, in the face of the
admitted incorrectness of "his delineations," he could be in any way
fitted to illustrate a novel of such transcendent excellence as "Vanity

It has been assumed, without any sort of authority, that it was only
when Thackeray found he could not succeed as an artist that he turned to
literature. The statement is altogether unwarranted. At or about the
very time he was engaged in drawing the cuts for "Figaro in London," he
was--if we are to judge of the sketch of "the Fraserians" in the
"Maclise Portrait Gallery," in which young Thackeray may easily be
recognised--writing for "Fraser's Magazine." Be this, however, as it
may, it seems tolerably certain that the rebuff he received from Dickens
had no hand in turning him into the path of letters, towards which his
genius and unerring judgment alone most fortunately guided him.


  [177] There is a scarce edition of the "Bon Gaultier Ballads," which
    contains some unacknowledged tailpieces, etc., by Kenny Meadows; in
    all subsequent editions these are omitted--why, we know not.

  [178] So great was the scarcity of good engravers in 1880, that in
    September of that year the proprietors of the _Graphic_ newspaper
    acknowledged the difficulty they experienced in obtaining the
    assistance of high-class engravers, and stated their intention to
    found a school of engraving on wood. Specimens of a new style of
    illustration have lately come from America, which appear in
    illustrated serials; some are good, but the majority, notwithstanding
    the song of praise with which they were first received, are nothing
    less than _abominable_.

  [179] Onwhyn's name occurs frequently in illustrative literature. He
    etched a set of designs for "Pickwick" and "Nicholas Nickleby;" for
    Mr. Henry Cockton's "George St. Julian," and a translation of Eugene
    Sue's "Mysteries of Paris." He is well known as the illustrator of
    "Valentine Vox," "Fanny the Little Milliner," and other works. Some
    of his best designs will be found in Mrs. Trollope's "Michael
    Armstrong." He occasionally displays some ability, but his
    performances are very unequal.

  [180] See Mr. Alfred G. Buss, in "Notes and Queries," April 24th, 1875.

  [181] A very clever and promising artist, who died early, of

  [182] As the _Tomahawk_ appeared in 1867, it does not come within the
    scope of the present work.

  [183] A work produced by David Bogue, in 1849, and illustrated by the
    celebrated French caricaturist, which professes to give sketches of
    "London Life and Character." Allowing for the unfaithfulness of the
    portraits, which are wholly Parisian, these designs possess
    unquestionable merit. The literary contributors were Albert Smith,
    Shirley Brooks, Angus B. Reach, Oxenford, J. Hannay, Sterling Coyne,
    and others.

  [184] Afterwards married Kate Terry.

  [185] "Thackeray," by Anthony Trollope, in "English Men of Letters,"
    p. 7.



We gather from the article in "The Month" which followed his death, and
to which we have to acknowledge materials of which we have availed
ourselves in the revision of the present chapter,[186] that Richard
Doyle's first work was _The Eglinton Tournament, or the Days of Chivalry
Revived_, which was published when he was only fifteen years old. Three
years later he produced _A Grand Historical, Allegorical, and Classical
Procession_, a humorous pageant which the same authority tells us
combined "a curious medley of men and women who played a prominent part
on the world's stage, bringing out into good-humoured relief the
characteristic peculiarities of each." Apart from his talent, it was no
doubt the fact of his being his father's son--the son of John Doyle, the
once famous and eminent HB--which first attracted the attention of the
promoters of _Punch_, and he was only nineteen when, in 1843, he was
taken on the regular pictorial staff of that periodical. It was to the
cheery, delightful pencil of Richard Doyle that the paper owed much of
the popularity which it subsequently achieved.

"It was from his father that he not only inherited his artistic talent,
but received, and that almost exclusively, his artistic training." The
writer in "The Month" goes on to tell us that John Doyle would not allow
his son "to draw from models; his plan was to teach the boy to observe
with watchful eye the leading features of the object before him, and
then some little time after reproduce them from memory as nearly as he
could.... He had no regular training in academy or school of art; he
painted in the studio of no master save his father; and it is curious to
see how his genius overleapt what would have been serious disadvantages
to an ordinary man.... He attached himself to no school; he was not
familiar, strange to say, with the masterpieces of foreign artists. He
had never been in Paris, or Rome, or Vienna." It will be well for the
reader to bear this in mind, because Doyle is one of the few book
illustrators or etchers whom the professional art critic has
condescended to notice, and it will enable him the better to understand
and appreciate the soundness of his criticism. No one, we are told, owed
less than Richard Doyle "did to those who had gone before him; and if
this rendered his works less elaborate and conventional, it gave them a
freshness and originality which might have been hampered if he had been
forced into conformity with the accepted canons of the professional
studio."[187] The writer of the article from which we have quoted would
seem to have read what Mr. Hodder has told us respecting his friend
Kenny Meadows, for the following is certainly not new to us: "He was not
a self-taught artist, for he was trained by one who had a genius kin to
his own, but he was an artist who had never forced himself into the
observance of those mechanical rules and canons which to ordinary men
are necessary to their correct painting (just as rules of grammar are
necessary to correct writing), but hamper and trammel the man of genius,
who has in himself the fount whence such rules proceed, and
instinctively follows them in the spirit, though not in the letter. So
far as they will forward the end he has in view, and no farther."[188]
It will be seen by the above that the kindly writer gives Doyle credit
for _genius_, and we who are strictly impartial will cheerfully admit
that if he had not positive genius,--which we somewhat doubt,--he was
certainly one of the most genial and graceful of comic designers.

It was _Punch's_ practice during the earlier years of his career to
produce a new cover with each succeeding volume.[189] Richard Doyle,
however, signalized his accession by the contribution of a wrapper which
was considered too good to be thrown aside at the expiration of a few
months. The well known and admirable design was stereotyped, and still
forms, with certain modifications, the permanent cover of _Punch's_
weekly series.

Specially worthy of note amongst his _Punch_ designs may be mentioned
_The Napoleon of Peace_ (Louis Philippe), and _The Land of Liberty_,
"recommended to the consideration of Brother Jonathan." In the latter,
allusion is made to the Mexican war, rifle duelling and rowdyism,
repudiation, Lynch law, and the then but no longer "peculiar
institution." These will be found in the thirteenth volume, with a
design of great excellence, _Punch's Vision at Stratford-on-Avon_,
supposed to occur in the house of Shakespeare.

A new English (?) party had been growing up and gradually forcing itself
into English politics. This was the Peace-at-any-price party, the
members of which, oblivious of the fact that the best preservative of
peace is to be found in a perpetual state of readiness for war, erased
from their minds all remembrance of the position won for the nation by
our glorious army and navy, and ruled that national honour and national
obligations must now be considered subordinate to the interests of
peace, trade, and commerce. Conspicuous among these men of the new
school was Mr. Cobden, an able, earnest, but (so far as our foreign
policy was concerned) thoroughly mistaken enthusiast. He figures as
"Peace" in Doyle's cartoon of _John Bull between Peace and War_ (_i.e._
the Duke of Wellington). In _Gentlemen, make your Game while the Ball is
Rolling_ (1848), the best cartoon ever designed by Richard Doyle, the
various European monarchs are engaged at _roulette_ under the auspices
of _Punch_ himself. The ball is the world, and the edges of the board
are respectively inscribed, "Reform," "Progress," "Republicanism,"
"Equality," "Constitutional Government." "Anarchy," and "Liberalism."
Bomba of Naples having staked a large sum, he and other monarchs follow
the erratic movements of the ball with absorbing attention. In the
background may be seen the then Queen of Spain and Louis Philippe, who,
having staked their all and lost, are just leaving the apartment.
Another, following up the same subject, is the political sea serpent of
"Revolution" suddenly appearing above the surface of the sea and
upsetting, one after another, the cockle-shell boats in which the
various European sovereigns are endeavouring to get to shore. The writer
in the Catholic "Month" points out the fact that "this picture was drawn
in the earlier part of the year, before the Roman revolution, and the
Holy Father was still riding safely unharmed by the monster which is
working havoc in France and Germany, and Austria and Spain." In _The
Citizen of the World_ we find a capital skit upon the "admirable
Crichton" delusion which made my Lord Brougham fancy himself in every
character he chose to assume, or on any subject to which he condescended
to give his attention, _facile princeps_. Here we find him figuring in
turn as an English Lord Chancellor, a German student, a French subject,
a French National Guard, an American citizen, a Bedouin Arab, a
Carmelite monk, a Chinese mandarin, an Osmanli, a red Indian, a Scottish
shepherd, and by the unmistakable nose and self-complacent smirk on his
countenance, it is clear that in each and every character Henry Lord
Brougham feels himself thoroughly at home. _The Sleeping Beauty_ is a
clever composition. "Beauty," by the way, is Lord John Russell, and
amongst the sleeping attendants may be recognised the Duke of
Wellington, Benjamin Disraeli, Colonel Sibthorpe, and Lord William
Bentinck; while the ever indispensable Brougham of course puts in an
appearance, this time in the character of a jester.

Richard Doyle, as we have seen, was young when he joined the ranks of
the _Punch_ staff. Young men are apt to "dream dreams," and one of
Richard Doyle's was in truth a charming one. In _Ireland: a Dream of the
Future_, he shows us our Queen gazing into the depths of an Irish lake,
wherein she beholds prosperous towns, smiling fields, a contented
peasantry, flourishing homesteads, a land flowing with milk and honey.
On the opposite bank sit in dreary solitude a starving cottier and his
family. This was Richard Doyle's dream in 1849. He did not live to wake
to the reality of 1884: half a dozen "Gladstone" bags filled with
American dynamite, the property of subjects of a republic who allows her
mongrel murderers to plot the deaths of thousands of the people of a
friendly nation without lifting a hand or a finger to restrain them. A
home government too weak to pass a law which would stop these outrages
by hanging these foreign miscreants as high as Haman. These formed no
part of course of the young artist's dream. He delighted in sunshine.
The year 1850 was memorable for the repeal of the window tax, one of the
most extraordinary impositions which ever crossed the inventive mind of
a Chancellor of the Exchequer. "Hollo! old fellow," says a workman to
his family, hailing the unwonted appearance of the sunbeams in their
dark and dreary apartment, "Hollo! old fellow; we're _glad_ to see you

Among the numerous illustrations which Doyle designed for _Punch_,
probably the most original were the series entitled "Manners and Customs
of ye Englishe," which, under the title of "Bird's-eye Views of English
Society," he afterwards continued in the _Cornhill Magazine_ in a more
elaborate form. The "Manners and Customs" form a curious record of the
doings of the period, and remind us of "Sam Cowell" and the cider
cellars, the Jenny Lind mania, Julien and his famous band, Astleys, the
Derby day, and many of the forgotten scenes and follies in which some of
us may have mingled in days gone by. They are very clever so far as they
go; but none of them, as the writer in "The Month" would have us
believe, are at all "worthy of" or in any way remind us of "Hogarth"
(why are all the writers on _comic_ art immediately reminded of
Hogarth?). "Each face in one of these pictures--_A Prospecte of Exeter
Hall, showynge a Christian Gentleman denouncynge ye Pope_," says the
same writer--"deserves a careful study, and tells the tale of bigotry,
prejudice, and gaping credulity which has made Exeter Hall a bye-word
among men." Although we agree with the writer on this subject, we would
at the same time take leave to remind him that the Catholics are
singularly fortunate in England compared with the religious freedom or
tolerance enjoyed by Protestants in Catholic countries--in Italy for
instance, or in Spain. As for "bigotry," let him look only at Catholic
France during the reign of priestcraft there, where an actor of the
position of Talma, writing with reference to a proposed monument to his
English brother, John Kemble, could add by way of shameful contrast, "Je
serai trop heureux _ici_ si les pretres _me_ laissent _une tombe dans
mon jardin_!"

When we first completed this chapter, and while the artist was yet
living, we deemed it better to say as little as possible in reference to
the conscientious motives which induced him to throw up his lucrative
position on _Punch_, and with it the whole of his splendid prospects in
comic art; and this course we had decided to follow after Richard Doyle
had been removed from us by death. As, however, the Catholic organ has
entered fully into the subject, not only is every cause for further
reticence removed, but by being placed in a position to understand
causes and motives, we are enabled to do justice to the memory of this
most generous and unselfish of men.

The Catholics have cause to feel satisfied with the results of what the
benighted Protestants of England are apt to term the "Papal Aggression."
The conduct of the latter in relation to this portentous event is thus
described by "The Month":--"In 1850 the Catholic Hierarchy was
established in England, and the Protestant public raved and stormed and
talked bigoted nonsense without end respecting this new invasion.
Parliament passed the futile and obsolete Ecclesiastical Titles Bill,
and _Punch_ took up the popular cry. Cardinal Wiseman was represented as
'tree'd' by the Papal bull, and comic verses and personal ridicule was
lavished on the Pope, the new hierarchy, and Catholics generally.

"Doyle remonstrated, but received answer that, as he had been allowed to
turn Exeter Hall and its doings into ridicule, it was only fair that his
own opinions should have their turn. But those who used this argument
little knew, and could scarcely be expected to know, the difference
between the devotion of supernatural faith and the bigotry of a
self-chosen creed. Doyle was anything but narrow or over-scrupulous. It
was not any of the cartoons which was the immediate occasion of the step
that he took, nor was it (as some of the notices of him have intimated)
any mere personal attachment to Cardinal Wiseman. 'I don't mind,' he
said, 'as long as you keep to the political and personal side of the
matter, but _doctrines_ you must not attack.' Douglas Jerrold and
Thackeray were not likely to appreciate this reversal of the general
sentiment, which resents personal attack above all else. 'Look at the
_Times_,' they argued; 'its language has been most violent, but the
Catholic writers on its staff do not for that reason resign. They
understand, and the world at large understands, that the individual
contributor is not responsible for the opinions expressed by other
contributors in articles with which he has nothing to do.' 'That is very
well in the _Times_,' was Doyle's answer, 'but not in _Punch_. For the
_Times_ is a monarchy [we believe these were his very words], whereas
_Punch_ is a republic.' So, when a week or so later an article,
attributed to Jerrold himself, jeeringly advised the Pope to 'feed his
flock on the wafers of the Vatican,' it was too much for Doyle.
Dignified protest was not sufficient now. To be any longer identified
with a paper which could use such language was intolerable to the
faithful soul. To ply his skilful fingers and busy inventive brain in
behalf of those who scoffed at the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar was
out of the question. His connection with _Punch_ must cease. But is he
bound in conscience to throw away a good income and congenial work,
because there were expressed opinions different from his own in a paper
in which, republic though it was, solidarity was scarcely possible? Who
would expect that in a comic journal each and all of the contributors
should agree with each and every sentiment expressed? Never mind;
whatever Richard Doyle might have been strictly bound to do, generosity
at least urged him to make the sacrifice--the sacrifice of his career,
of his future success it may be. At least he could show that Catholic
belief was no empty superstition, no set of mere traditional
observances, which sat lightly on the man of culture, even if in his
heart he accepted them at all. So he wrote to resign his connection
with _Punch_, stating the reasons plainly and simply. This was in 1850,
after he had been contributing for more than six years. Now he must
simply start afresh, in consequence of what his Protestant friends
regarded as an ecclesiastical crotchet. He must turn aside from the path
of worldly success; he must give up all for conscience' sake. But as the
_Daily Telegraph_ remarks, in an article respecting him that does it
honour, 'He made a wise and prudent choice. The loss was ours, not his;
and, apart from the claims of his genius to admiration, such conduct at
the critical moment of a career will never cease to command respect.'"

Passing by (as we may afford to do) the assertion that we Protestants
"raved and stormed and talked bigoted nonsense without end respecting
this new invasion," and the somewhat unnecessary boast that Lord John
Russell's Ecclesiastical Titles Bill has been suffered to become a
"futile and obsolete" measure, we would recognise the value of the
writer's remarks as establishing in the clearest possible manner the
perfect honesty and unselfishness of the motives which induced the
artist to resign his connection with _Punch_, and to throw up the
chances of an assured and brilliant future. We think however, that the
value of his statement does not end here. We may here acknowledge that,
while admitting the perfect purity and disinterestedness of Doyle's
motives, we ourselves never thoroughly understood them until we had read
the article from which we have quoted. We had taken into consideration
the fact that when he took this decided step he was but twenty-five
years of age, and we suspected (let us honestly own it) that other
influences might have been at work independent of the artist himself, of
which we as Protestants must always remain ignorant. There are grounds
on which Protestant and Catholic writers may meet one another even in
connection with religious questions; and although a "bigoted"
Protestant, I am glad to admit that the writer's clear and lucid
statement has removed an impression that was absolutely without

With respect, however, to the ultimate consequences of this decisive
step, the Catholic writer and ourselves are wholly at variance. "We are
inclined to believe," continues the former, "that apart from the respect
he earned by his noble sacrifice, Mr. Doyle achieved a higher reputation
in consequence of his retirement from comic journalism, than if he had
continued to employ his pencil in its services all his life through. It
is true that his name was not, towards the end of his life, so familiar
to the popular mind of England as was that of John Leech at the end of
his career, and as that of Du Maurier at the present time, but the work
which he did in his later life was more lasting and more world-wide.
_Punch_ is an English periodical; you must be an Englishman to
understand the allusions. The humour is essentially and almost
exclusively English; it would never attain any great popularity in other
English-speaking nations, in spite of its undoubted claim to be the
first comic journal in the world. If Doyle had confined himself to the
pages of _Punch_, or directed his energies mainly to the weekly issue of
some design in its numerous columns, the limnings of his pencil would
scarcely be known outside of England, whereas all over the continent of
America, and in the English colonies, the old Colonel Newcome, and the
Marquis of Farintosh, Lady Kew, and Trotty Veck meet us with their
familiar faces as we turn over the Transatlantic editions of Thackeray
and Dickens, not to mention the exquisite paintings, of which we shall
have more to say presently, exhibited in the Grosvenor Gallery, and to
be found in many a country mansion as a lasting memorial of Dicky
Doyle." Does the writer seriously mean to tell us that Doyle could not
illustrate Thackeray and Dickens at the same time and side by side with
his illustrations for _Punch_ or any other serial of a satirical
character? Granted that _Punch_ is a periodical appealing to English
tastes and sympathies, yet it was through the introduction obtained by
means of its pages that the artist probably obtained employment upon the
very works to which the writer refers, and upon which (as he claims) his
reputation will rest.

Nor do we, nor can we, admit that, out of the circle of his
coreligionists, or the still narrower circle of educated unbiassed
minds, Doyle reaped much respect by the "noble sacrifice" of which the
writer speaks. English prejudice looks with special coldness on
conscientious motives it does not understand, and with which it can have
but little sympathy. Doyle was a man of purer motives and finer
sympathies than George Cruikshank; but the same insular prejudice which
conduced to the ruin of George Cruikshank, wrecked the future prospects
of an artist almost as original in some respects as the more brilliant
George. From the moment that Doyle retired from _Punch_, English
fanaticism and English prejudice persisted in regarding him as a
supporter of the "Papal aggression," and he permanently lost from that
moment the ground which his talent and his reputation had so honourably
won for him. From the moment he deemed it his duty to retire from the
circle of literary and artistic wits and humourists with whom he was
then associated, he took himself practically out of the range of comic
art, and the public ceased to trouble itself about him, although it had
lost (in the expressive language of Mr. Thackeray) "the graceful pencil,
the harmless wit, the charming fancy," of one of the most genial and
promising of English graphic satirists of the modern time. Before he
left _Punch_ he had executed for the periodical upwards of five hundred
illustrations, of which nearly eighty are cartoons.

But Richard Doyle manifested the honesty of purpose which was a part of
his noble nature by other sacrifices than his retirement from _Punch_.
From the friendly hand which has strewn flowers upon his grave, we learn
that at one time he was offered a handsome income to draw for a
periodical started some years ago, but declined the engagement because
he disapproved of the principles of those by whom it was conducted. "At
another he had a similar offer made him by a distinguished statesman on
behalf of a political journal, in which the work would have been light
and the remuneration excellent." He was offered his own terms to
illustrate an edition of Swift's humorous works; but here too he
refused, because he did not admire the morality of the witty Dean of St
Patrick's. "In these and other cases like them, religion, virtue, high
principle, carried the day against interests which would have proved too
much for any but a man of Doyle's noble and lofty character." His
biographer points out the fact that all this while he had to look to his
pencil for bread, and denies the statement, made by one of the leading
newspapers at the time of his death, that during the latter part of his
life he was independent of his profession.

In one set of illustrations, now very scarce and little known, Doyle has
shown that he possessed eminent powers as a caricaturist. We have a set
of lithographs before us, entitled, "Rejected Cartoons," a sort of
pictorial "Rejected Addresses," supposed to be intended for the then new
Houses of Parliament, some of them caricatures of the works of living
artists--Maclise, Pugin, etc., whose styles are closely imitated and
most amusingly burlesqued. Some of them are irresistibly droll, such as
King Alfred sending the Danes into a Profound Slumber with the Sleepy
Notes of his Harp; "Canute reproving the Flattery of his Courtiers;" The
Faces of King John and his Barons at the Signing of Magna Charta; Perkin
Warbeck in the Stocks; The Meeting of Francis and Harry in the Field of
the Cloth of Gold, etc. Few people with whom the touch of Richard Doyle
is perfectly familiar would recognise his hand in these amazing and
amusing cartoons. We met with them at a bookstall twenty years ago,
unconscious until lately that they were due to his pencil.

The once celebrated "Adventures of Brown, Jones, and Robinson" would
alone secure for this artist an eminent position amongst the number of
English comic designers. Graphically relating the experiences of the
most ordinary class of continental tourists, they cannot fail to bring
to the recollection even of the most commonplace traveller some of the
experiences which may have actually happened to himself. Doyle of course
enlarges on these experiences as his fancy and imagination suggest; but
after all, there is little which might not have actually befallen any
ordinary English travellers such as this unlucky trio. The episode of
"Jones's Portmanteau undergoing the ordeal of Search" at Cologne; The
scene at the "Speise-Saal" Hotel; The Jewish "Quarter of the City of
Frankfort, and what they saw there"; The Gambling Scene at Baden: The
Descent of the St. Gothard; The Academia at Venice; will appeal to the
actual experiences of nearly every continental tourist; and
notwithstanding its extravagant drollery, little Browne's adventure at
Verona is sufficiently possible to remind one of personal vicissitudes
encountered off the track or on the frontiers, which might almost match
the experiences of this personally uninteresting little sketcher.

  RICHARD DOYLE. "_Brown, Jones & Robinson_," 1855.

  Robinson (_solo_): "I stood in Venice--," etc. Jones and Brown, having
  heard something like it before, have walked on a little way.

  _Face p. 392._]

Besides _Punch_, Mr. Doyle's hand will be found in the following:--"The
Fairy Ring," Leigh Hunt's "Jar of Honey," Professor Ruskin's "King of
the Golden River," Montalba's "Fairy Tales from all Nations," "Jack and
the Giants," "The Cornhill Magazine," "Pictures from the Elf World,"
"The Bon Gaultier Ballads," Thackeray's "Rebecca and Rowena," Charles
Dickens's "Battle of Life," "The Family Joe Miller," Mr. Tom Hughes'
"Scouring of the White Horse," "Pictures of Extra Articles and Visitors
to the Exhibition," Laurence Oliphant's "Piccadilly," "Puck on Pegasus,"
PLanche's "Old Fairy Tales," À Beckett's "Almanack of the Month,"
"London Society," and Mr. Thackeray's "Newcomes." Writing of this last,
Mr. Hamerton says, "I never regretted the hard necessity which forbids
an art critic to shut his eyes to artistic shortcomings more heartily
than I do now in speaking of Richard Doyle. Considered as commentaries
on human character, his etchings are so full of wit and intelligence, so
bright with playful satire and manly relish of life, that I scarcely
know how to write sentences with a touch at once light enough and keen
enough to describe them";[190] and then the critic goes on to expose the
glaring faults which characterize Mr. Doyle's performances from a purely
artistic point of view, his feeble attempts of light, his undeveloped
"sense of the nature of material," and his absence of imitative study.
It is somewhat singular that whilst Mr. Hamerton is silent on the
subject of the book etchings of Leech and Phiz, he should have selected
for criticism those of Doyle, who never intended to claim for these
sketches the dignity of _etchings_. The critic, however, is not only
just, but remarkably fair. With reference to the illustrations to the
"Newcomes," he acknowledges "their all but inestimable dramatic value."
"Illustrations to imaginative literature," he continues, "are too
frequently an intrusion and an impertinence, but these really added to
our enjoyment of a great literary masterpiece, and Doyle's conception of
the Colonel, of Honeyman, of Lady Kew, is accepted at once as authentic
portraiture. In Ethel he was less happy, which was a misfortune, as she
was the heroine of the book; but many of the minor characters were
successes of the most striking and indisputable kind." Further on, he
says of Doyle's etching, _A Student of the Old Masters_,--"Colonel
Newcome is sitting in the National Gallery, trying to see the merits of
the old masters. Observe the enormous exaggeration of aërial perspective
resorted to in order to detach the figure of the Colonel. The people
behind him must be several miles away; the floor of the room, if judged
by aërial perspective only, is as broad as the Lake of Lucerne." The
criticism, though exaggerated, is not unfair or unjust; but the people
are certainly not miles away. Doyle has perpetuated a mistake common
with many English artists, who seem to think, as Hazlitt expresses it,
that, "if they only leave out the subordinate parts, they are sure of
the general result."[191] Doyle's intention to give us a portrait of
Colonel Newcome _only_ has prompted him to treat the subordinates as
almost non-existent. His work, however, was never intended to be
faultless; it carries out his own intention most thoroughly and
admirably, and in a manner very far superior to anything which Thackeray
himself could have done.

The closing scenes in the life of this most amiable and unselfish of
artists we give in the singularly graceful words of his Catholic
biographer: "In the autumn of last year (1883), Mr. Doyle spent some
time in North Devon, and while there painted a picture of Lynton
churchyard. The view is taken at a distance of some ten or fifteen yards
to the south-west of the church, and is looking in an easterly
direction. In front of the picture one sees far down below the blue
waters of the Bristol Channel, while behind the picturesque little
church nestles among the trees. In the churchyard an old man is mowing
down the long grass amid the graves, while two or three little children
scatter flowers on one of them. This picture was unfinished at the time
of his death. A strange coincidence that he should have chosen such a
scene for his last picture, when, as far as man can judge, he had no
sort of reason for thinking that death was so near; stranger still, that
on his return home he chose for the sketch a black frame, as if to
clothe it in the garb of mourning for its maker. There it remains on his
easel, unfinished still, as if to tell of one cut off so suddenly, not
indeed in the summer of life, but in a mellow autumn, which seemed to
give promise of many years of good work still to be done. But the time
had come when the little sprites who peopled his dreams of earth, were
to be exchanged for the angel forms who were to welcome the faithful
servant to his reward in heaven. On the 10th of December, as he was
preparing to return from the Athenæum club, Mr. Doyle was struck down by
apoplexy. An ambulance was procured, and he was carried home. He never
regained the power of speech, and it is doubtful whether he was ever
again conscious, though the priest who anointed him for his journey from
thence to heaven thought that he detected some traces of a joyful
acquiescence in the rite. The next morning, in the home where the last
years had been spent in quiet peaceful pursuit of the art he
passionately loved, his simple, innocent, loyal soul passed away from
earth to heaven."

       *       *       *       *       *

It will be admitted that Mr. Tenniel joined the ranks of the graphic
satirists at the commencement of troublous times. The nations of Europe,
with the exception of England, whose slumbers still remained unbroken,
were all more or less awake. Prussia, insufficiently avenged (as she
herself considered) at Waterloo for the unendurable humiliations which
Napoleon had heaped upon her after Jena, had been unostentatiously
preparing for another deadly struggle with France, and perfecting the
most admirable military machinery of modern times. Russia, under
Nicholas, a thorough soldier in theory, had an army so elaborately
over-drilled that when the time came it was found practically useless
for the purposes of actual warfare. The sleep of England was suddenly
awakened by the war with Russia, and afterwards by the revolt of her
Indian mercenaries. The Russian was to be followed by a war between
France and Austria; the enfranchisement of Italy from the Alps to the
Adriatic; the fratricidal struggle between Prussia and Austria, and the
rending asunder within six weeks of the famous Germanic Confederation of
the Rhine. It is a somewhat singular coincidence that immediately before
the commencement of these troubles the great Duke of Wellington died, an
event commemorated by two remarkable cartoons of Tenniel, the first of
which is entitled _September_ XIV. _MDCCCLII._ (the day of the great
soldier's death), and the other, _The Duke's Bequest--for the most

The year 1853 opened the eyes of those of us who fancied that war was a
thing of the past, and that the reign of Universal Peace had begun. Not
only was Turkey at war with Russia, but had given her a tremendous
thrashing at Oltenitza, an event alluded to in the artist's cartoon of
_A Bear with a Sore Head_. One of the best of his satires of the same
year depicts Aberdeen as he appeared in _The Unpopular Act of the
Courier of St. Petersburg_, wherein the premier attempts the risky feat
of driving a team of unmanageable horses. The features of the nervous
athlete betray much anxiety; the two fiery leaders, Russia and Turkey,
prove wholly beyond his control; while Austria, unsettled by their bad
example, is much disposed to be troublesome.

Matters went from bad to worse in 1854. England was not only thoroughly
aroused but angry, not only with her enemies, but with the foolish
people who had preached peace to her when there was no peace; and, in
_What it has Come to_, we find my Lord Aberdeen vainly trying to hold in
the British lion, whose ire has been roused by the Russian bear, who is
seen scampering off in the distance. Away goes the lion, with his tail
as stiff as a poker and every hair of his mane erect, dragging after him
the frightened premier, who exclaims, in the extremity of his terror,
that he can hold him no longer and is bound "to let him go." The Russian
war showed our singular unreadiness for warfare. Just at its close we
had provided ourselves with a fleet of vessels of light draught capable
of floating in the shallows which surrounded the Russian fortifications,
which, had they been ready at the time they were wanted, might have
proved of incalculable service. Britannia disconsolately eyes these
gun-boats from the summit of her cliffs. "Ah!" she sighs, "if you'd been
only hatched a year ago, what might have come out of your shells!"

Close upon the heels of the Russian war followed the mutiny of our
Indian levies. So closely did one event follow the other, that those who
have watched and learnt with reason to distrust the odious and insidious
policy of Russia towards this country, considered the coincidence a more
than singular one. The Franco-Austrian war came next; and the war wave
passed onwards to America, where the Northern and Southern states were
speedily engaged in fratricidal and deadly strife. Peace, driven from
land to land, found no resting place for the sole of her foot, and the
artist shows her to us, seated disconsolately pondering over these
untoward matters and her own unhappy condition on the breech of a
garrison gun.

_Punch's_ low estimate of the character and abilities of the Emperor
Louis is patent throughout those of Tenniel's satires in which he puts
in an appearance. In 1853 he takes us to an _International Poultry Show_
(in obvious reference to the Boulogne catastrophe) where, amid a variety
of eagles--the American eagle, the Prussian eagle--the double-headed
Austrian and Russian eagles--we find a wretched nondescript, half eagle
half barn-door fowl, labelled the "French eagle." Victoria (a royal
visitor) remarks to her astonished companion, "We have nothing of _that_
sort, Mr. Punch; but should there be a _lion_ show, we can send a
specimen!!" The approaching marriage of the French Emperor is alluded to
in the cartoon of _The Eagle in Love_, in which the present ex-Empress
(then Comtesse de Teba), whose likeness by the way is far from happy, is
represented as cutting his talons. The air of mystery which was a part
of his character, and was not so well understood in those days as it
afterwards came to be, not unnaturally misled Mr. Tenniel, for in his
satire, _Playing with Edged Tools_, we behold him studying (of all
things in the world) a model of the guillotine, an instrument of terror
to which those of the Bonaparte family who profess to be guided by the
policy of the great Napoleon, must always entertain the greatest
possible aversion.

_Punch_ not only looked upon the third Napoleon as a treacherous man,
but also as a dangerous and inconvenient neighbour. In the cartoon
labelled, _An Unpleasant Neighbour_ (1859), we see him in the act of
placing outside his firework shop a flaming advertisement, whereon we
read in the largest possible type, "Blaze of Triumph! Roman
Candles!--Italian Fire!"[192] His neighbour, John Bull, proprietor of
"The Roast Beef House" next door, rushes out in a very excited state,
"Here have I got," says he, "to pay double insurance, all along of
_your_ confounded fireworks!" The next cartoon shows us Louis, _alias_
"Monsieur Walker," after he has closed his establishment and chalked up,
"The Business to be disposed of," while incredulous John places his
finger to his nose as Louis assures him, "Ah, friend Johnny! I close my
shop entirely to please _you_!" In _The Congress Quadrille_, Louis
vainly essays to make himself agreeable to Miss Britannia (a good
example of the artist's handsome women)--"Voulez-vous danser,
Mad'moiselle?" says Louis. Britannia, however, having been his partner
on more than one memorable occasion, had had quite enough of him and his
peculiar style of dancing. "Thanks,--no!" she languidly replies,
thinking doubtless of her experiences of the Russian quadrille--of the
Chinese country dance, etc., etc. "I'm not sure of the figure--and _know
nothing of the Finale_."

Mr. Tenniel's art training before he joined the _Punch_ staff, combined
with his undoubted genius, renders him unquestionably one of the most
versatile of modern designers. His satire is something quite apart from
his caricature, and the former is characterized by a strong dramatic
element particularly noticeable in serious illustrations, such as his
designs to "The Pythagorean," in the second volume of "Once a Week." In
caricature he resumes in a measure the manner of the older
caricaturists, without retaining a trace of their vulgarity, and a good
example will be found in his cartoon of _What Nicholas heard in the
Shell_ (1854), in which the features and salient points of the figure
are intensely overdrawn. His caricature pure and simple seems to us
always inferior to his satirical power; as fine examples of the latter
we may mention: _The British Lion Smells a Rat_ (an angry lion sniffing
at a door, in allusion to the conference which followed the fall of
Sebastopol); _The British Lion's Vengeance on the Bengal Tiger_, which
chronicles the ghastly massacre of Cawnpore; _Bright the Peace Maker_
(1860), in which _Punch_ testifies his indignation at the manner in
which Mr. Bright endeavoured to create a popular feeling against the
House of Lords; _Poland's Chain Shot_ (1863), a stirring and powerful
composition, wherein Poland, gallantly struggling once more for freedom,
breaks her chains and fiercely rams them into a cannon; _Humble Pie at
the Foreign Office_ (1863), and _Teucer Assailed by Hector is Protected
by the Shield of Ajax_ (1864), in which Lord John Russell is the subject
of satire; and _The False Start_ and _Out of the Race_ (the same year),
in the first of which Palmerston endeavours to restrain the leaning of
Gladstone towards democracy, the last showing the result of his
inattention to the starter's warning. In all these and a host of other
admirable satires, the superior art training of Mr. Tenniel is seconded
by his strong dramatic power, and above all by his unquestionable
_genius_. It would be a poor compliment to him to deny that he had his
failings--which indeed of the admirable satirists who preceded him had
not? His failings, when they do occur, are perhaps more noticeable on
account of his style and the mode in which he frequently drapes his
figures. We have heard it objected to him, for instance, that the beauty
of his female figures is occasionally marred by the somewhat
disproportionate size of their feet, and this charge seems to us
sustainable. Mr. Tenniel displays rare excellence in the drawing of
animals--an excellence peculiarly noteworthy in such cartoons as _The
British Lion Smells a Rat_, and _The British Lion's Vengeance on the
Bengal Tiger_.

Embracing a period of only fourteen years, from 1851 to 1864, during
which time he worked side by side with his friend and colleague, John
Leech, on the pages of _Punch_, our notice of the cartoons of John
Tenniel must necessarily be short. During the last three years of his
life, when, as we have seen, the strength of the artist who had been on
the pictorial staff from the commencement had been gradually failing,
the execution of the weekly cartoons had fallen almost entirely upon Mr.
Tenniel. As fellow-labourers, constantly associated on the same
periodical, we are enabled to compare their individual merits. The
conclusion we have arrived at is as follows: That as a political
_satirist_, Tenniel is the best of the two; while as a delineator of
English habits, manners, eccentricities, and peculiarities, Leech finds
no equal. After 1864, when the artistic friendship and partnership (so
to speak) of these gifted men was dissolved by the untimely death of
John Leech, it would be beyond the declared scope and purpose of this
work to follow Mr. Tenniel further. Unlike the caricaturists who
preceded him, many of whom relied on humour, more or less forced, for
the success of their productions, the cartoons of John Tenniel are
oftentimes distinguished by a gravity and sternness of purpose which,
combined with their artistic excellence, appeals forcibly to the
imagination. Unfortunately, as in the case of those of John Leech, these
truly admirable examples of nineteenth century satire, apart from the
_Punch_ volumes themselves--owing to the material on which they are
impressed and the process to which the original drawings are
subjected--are practically valueless by the side of an indifferent
caricature torn from the scurrilous and worthless pages of "The Scourge"
or "The Meteor."

To the persons who charge this artist with want of humour, his cartoon
of _Britannia Discovering the Source of the Nile_--probably the most
comical picture in the whole of the _Punch_ volumes--will afford the
most conclusive answer, as will also the quaint and mirth-provoking
little pictures which he designed for "Alice in Wonderland," its sequel,
"Through the Looking-glass," and the 1864 edition of the "Ingoldsby
Legends." One of these last, by the way, so closely resembles a scarce
design of John Leech's in the "New Monthly," that the coincidence will
strike any one who has an opportunity of comparing the two together.
During the fourteen years that Mr. Tenniel was a fellow-worker with the
late John Leech, he contributed to the pages of _Punch_ about 1,400
designs, of which upwards of 400 are cartoons. We believe we are correct
in stating that all these illustrations, and his subsequent and
contemporary designs, were drawn at once upon the wood block, not a
single preliminary sketch having been made.

       *       *       *       *       *

Here, in accordance with the plan which we designed when we sat down to
write this work, we bring our labours to a close. If we have omitted all
mention of two very excellent and talented artists, Messrs. Charles
Keene and George Du Maurier, it is not from any lack of appreciation,
but because one of them at least began his labours just about the period
when those of John Leech were drawing to a close, while the reputation
of both were made _after_ their distinguished contemporary was laid to
his rest. The merits of both these able men and of those now following
after them must be left to be dealt with by another chronicler.
Although, as we remarked in our opening chapter, the wood engraver has
rung the knell of English caricature, with such clever men as Colonel
Seccombe, Mr. Proctor, Mr. Randolph Caldicott, Mr. F. Barnard, the
present George Cruikshank, Mr. Chasemore, and others whose names do not
at present occur to us, there is happily no prospect of a decline in the
art of English graphic satire.


  [186] The present chapter was written before the artist's death; but
    I have to acknowledge the great assistance I have derived in its
    _revision_ from the authority indicated.

  [187] _The Month, a Catholic Magazine_, No. 237 (March, 1884), p 315.

  [188] _Ibid._, page 317.

  [189] One of these (and a very effective one) was the work of the
    present Sir John Gilbert.

  [190] Hamerton's "Etching and Etchers."

  [191] William Hazlitt on "The Fine Arts," p. 51.

  [192] An excellent burlesque of the Emperor's theatrical declarations.




Coloured frontispiece to the "Age of Intellect; or, Clerical Show Folk
and Wonderful Lay Folk," by Francis Moore, Physician. 1819.

"Lessons of Thrift, published for the general benefit, by a Member of
the Save-all Club," eleven coloured full-page etchings. 1820.

"The Total Eclipse, a Grand Politico-Astronomical Phenomenon." (Dolby,
Strand.) 1820.

"A Peep at the P. C. N.; or, Boiled Mutton with Caper Sauce at the
Temple of Joss." (Effingham Wilson.) 1820.

"The Men in the Moon; or, the Devil to Pay." (Dean & Munday.) 1820.

[_With his brother George._] Designs to Nightingale's "Memoirs of Queen
Caroline." (J. Robins.) 1820.

"Radical Chiefs." One caricature illustration. 1821.

"The Royal Game of Chess." 1821.

"The Political All-my-knack for the Year of our Lord 1821."

"The Queen and Magna Charta; or, the Thing that John Signed." (Dolby,
Strand.) 1821.

"Tales of the Cordelier Metamorphosed." 1821.

[_With his brother George._] "Life in London." (Sherwood, Nealy &
Jones.) 1821.

"The Commercial Tourist; or, Gentleman Traveller." (A satirical Poem),
five coloured plates. 1822.

"Mock Heroicks; or, Snuff, Tobacco, and Gin, and a Rapsody on an
Inkstand." Four caricature engravings. 1822.

"Annals of Sporting and Fancy Gazette." (Numerous coloured plates.)

[_With C. Williams._] Frontispiece to George Ramsey's "New Dictionary of
Anecdote." 1822.

"My Cousin in the Army; or, Johnny Newcome on the Peace Establishment."
Many coloured plates. 1822.

Twenty designs on wood for Charles Westmacott's "Points of Misery."

A series of drawings on wood to the "Spirit of the Public Journals for
1823 and 1824." (A selection of essays, jeux d'esprit, tales of humour,
etc., 2 vols.)

"Life and Exploits of Don Quixote." Twenty-four designs on wood. (Knight
& Lacey.) 1824.

Bernard Blackmantle's (Charles Westmacott) "English Spy." 1825.

"Spirit of the Public Journals for 1825."

Charles Westmacott's "Punster's Pocket-book; or, the Art of Punning
Enlarged." 1826.

[_With his brother George._] "London Characters." (Twenty-four plates,
of which nine only are by Robert.) Robins. 1827.

[_With George._] Designs on wood for the "Fairy Tales" of Albert Ludwigg
Grimm. 1827.

J. Thompson's "New Life of J. Allen." 1828.

Smeeton's "Doings in London." 1828.

"British Dance of Death" (allegorical coloured frontispiece). 1828.

"Spirit of the Age" Newspaper (vignette). 1828.

[_With his brother._] The designs on wood for the "Universal Songster;
or, Museum of Mirth." (3 vols.) 1828.

"London Oddities; or, Theatrical Cabinet, and Tit-bits of Humour and
Eccentricity." 1828.

"The Finish to the Adventures of Tom, Jerry, and Logic." 1828.

_The following between 1830 and 1832._

"Cruikshank's Comic Album" (sometimes called "Facetiæ"), being a series
of little books published by Kidd, Miller, and others, afterwards
collected into 3 vols.

"Walks about Town by an Antiquated Trio," three designs.

"The Condition of the West Indian Slave contrasted with that of the
Infant Slave in our English Factories."

"Cruikshank and the New Police, showing the great Utility of that
Military Body."

"Cruikshank _versus_ Witchcraft"; "Mary Ogilvie"; "Wee Watty."

"Robert Cruikshank _versus_ Sir Andrew Agnew."

W. S. Moncrieff's "March of Intellect," six designs.

[_With Kenny Meadows._] "The Devil in London."

"A Slap at the Times."

Illustrations to Foote's "Tailors," and "Mayor of Garratt"; O'Hara's
"Midas"; "The Beggars' Opera"; "Katherine and Petruchio," and others.

_The following between 1831 and 1836._

Design on wood for "Figaro in London."

[_With Seymour and others._] Illustrations to a periodical called "The

Twenty illustrations to W. R. Macdonald's "Comic Alphabet." (A rival to
George Cruikshank's work of the same title.)

Eighty-five designs on wood to Crithannah's "Original Fables." Six
designs on wood for "Readings from Dean Swift His Tale of a Tub, with
Variorum Notes, and a Supplement for the use of the Nineteenth Century,"
by Quintus Flestrin Grildrig.

Johann Abricht's "Divine Emblems." And [_with his brother_]
illustrations to J. Thomas's "Burlesque Drama." 1838.

[_With Seymour._] The series known as "Cruikshank at Home," and "The Odd

_The following in 1839-1840._

Ten vignettes to "The Lady and the Saints." Twelve designs on wood to
"Colburn's Kalendar of Amusements in Town and Country." "Cozi Toobad."
[_With W. Lee._] Twenty-three steel plates and designs on wood for "Jem
Blunt," by Barker (author of the celebrated "Greenwich Hospital").

_1842 and 1844._

[_With John Leech._] "Merrie England in the Olden Time," by George
Daniel. (Since rep. by Warne & Co.) Three illustrations to "James
Hatfield and the Beauty of Buttermere." [_With R. W. Buss and T.
Wageman._] "Cumberland's British and Minor Theatre." Fourteen etchings
to Abraham Elder's "Tales and Legends of the Isle of Wight." Nine
aqua-tinta plates to Hugo Playfair's "Brother Jonathan, the Smartest
Nation in all Creation."

_From 1845 to 1849._

"Sketches of Pumps Handled by Robert Cruikshank." Twenty-four etchings
to "The Orphan; or, Memoirs of Matilda" (a translation of Sue's
"Mathilde"). Forty etchings to "The Bertaudiere" (Chronicles of the

_And the following_.

Francis L. Clarke's "Life of Wellington." Kentish's "Hudibrastic History
of Lord Amherst's Visit to China." "The London Directory and London
Ambulator." "Golden Key of the Treasures of Knowledge." "The Little
World of Great and Good Things." E. Thomson's "Adventures of a Carpet."
"Raphael's Witch; or, Oracle of the Future" (ten coloured designs). "The
London Stage" (a collection of about 180 plays, with a cut to each play;
4 vols.). Portrait of Mr. Oxberry as "Humphrey Gull" in the "Dwarf of
Naples," etc., etc.



"Views from the Poets." "The Devil on Two Sticks." "Ovid."
"Demosthenes." Views of Newstead Abbey, Margate, Dover, etc. Designs for
"Benevolence, Friendship, and Death." "Quarrels of the Poets."
"Anatomical Theatre." "Vanities of the Human Race." "The Happy Family."
"The Gin-shop." "The Sleepwalker." "The Sluggard." "Don Juan." "The
Economist." "The Chemist." "The March of Intellect." "The Great Joss and
his Playthings." "The R----l Speech." The Works of Wordsworth, Southey,
Gay, and other poets. Robinson's "History and Antiquities of Enfield."
Shakspeare's "Seven Ages." Hogarth's "Apprentices," and "Rake's
Progress." "Uncle Timothy." Views of London. Sporting Almanacks. "Percy
Anecdotes." "Book of Martyrs." "Portraits of Public Characters." "Death
in London." "Spectre Bride." "Midnight Embrace." "The Red King." "The
Ghost with ye Golden Casket." "The Devil's Ladder." "Assisting,
Resisting, and Desisting."

Contributions to "Friendship's Offering." 1824-36.

"Seymour's Comic Annual: a Perennial of Fun."

Miss Louisa Sheridan's "Comic Offering." 1831-1835.

"The National Omnibus," a journal of literature, etc. (designs on wood,
with Cruikshank), 1831-1832; "The Comic Magazine," 1832-1834;
Richardson's "Minor Drama," 1827-1830; Piers Shafton Granton's "Vagaries
in Quest of the Wild and Wonderful"; "Mrs. Greece and her Rough Lovers"
[Russia and Turkey] (McLean), 1828; "How to Spell Harrowgate" (C. King),
1828; "Going by Steam" (G. King); "The Political Bellman"; "A Musical
Genius" (G. Creed); "A Man of Taste and Feeling" (G. Creed).

_The following, among others, for McLean, in 1829._

"Search after Happiness" (two plates); Portrait of O'Connell;
"Buonaparte in his Study"; "State of the Nation"; "Treasure Seeking";
"The Raft"; "O'Connell's Dream"; "London"; "Plot Discovered"; "Death of
the Giraffe" (a series of plates); "Rival Actresses"; "Moments of
Reflection"; "Ennui"; "The Ear-wig"; "The Lost Key"; "The Man Wot
Steers"; "Raising the Wind"; "Catholic State Wagon."

"The Looking Glass" (a series of political and other caricatures, in
which he was assisted by William Heath). 1830-1836.

"Sycophant Saints and Sabbath Sinners." Circa 1832.

[_With Isaac Robert Cruikshank._] "Cruikshank at Home," and "The Odd
Volume." 1836.

"The Omnibus" (a series of humorous etchings on copper); and "The
Heiress" (six plates, each consisting of about five subjects).

Upwards of three hundred designs on wood for "Figaro in London."

"Valpurgis; or, the Devil's Festival." Four woodcuts. (Kidd.) 1831.

"The Extraordinary Black Book" (an exposition of the incomes of the
aristocracy, Church, civil list, list of sinecurists, etc.), one
caricature plate. 1831.

"The Comic Magazine." 1831-1834.

"Maxims and Hints for an Angler" (twelve beautifully-finished drawings
on stone).

"The Schoolmaster Abroad" (aimed at Lord Brougham's educational

"New Readings by Old Authors" (a small lithographic series comprising
upwards of three hundred plates, the subjects being suggested by
readings in Shakespeare, Schiller's "William Tell," and Byron's

Several hundred illustrations for Maddeley, the publisher.

The "Humorous Sketches"; "Hood's Comic Almanack," 1836 (thirteen
woodcuts); "Squib Annual of Poetry, Politics, and Personalities" (twelve
designs); [_with Cruikshank_] "Sayings worth Hearing, and Secrets worth
Knowing"; "Terrific Penny Magazine"; T. K. Hervey's "Book of Christmas,"
1836; the early plates to "Pickwick"; some of the plates to the "Pocket
Magazine" (Robins' series), eleven vols., etc., etc.



1835. "Etchings and Sketchings," by A. Pen, Esq.

1837. "Jack Brag," by Theodore Hook.

1840. "The Comic Latin Grammar," by Paul Prendergast. (Percival Leigh.)
Plates and cuts.

"The Comic English Grammar," by Gilbert à Beckett. Fifty illustrations.

"The Fiddle-Faddle Fashion Book," by Percival Leigh. Four coloured

[_With Hablot Knight Browne and another._] "The London Magazine,
Charivari, and Courrier des Dames."

"Bentley's Miscellany," 1840 to 1849, containing etchings to the
"Ingoldsby Legends," "Stanley Thorn," "Richard Savage," "Adventures of
Mr. Ledbury," "Fortunes of the Scattergood Family," "Marchioness of
Brinvilliers," "Brian O'Linn," etc., etc.

1841. "The Children of the Mobility," seven lithographs in a wrapper.

"Written Caricatures," by C. C. Pepper (pseud.).

"Punch, or The London Charivari." 1841 to 1864.

[_With Isaac Robert Cruikshank._] "Merrie England in the Olden Time," by
George Daniel. 1842.

"New Monthly Magazine," 1842 to 1844.

"Hood's Comic Annual."

1843. "The Wassail Bowl," by Albert Richard Smith, etchings and

"Jack the Giant-Killer."

"The Illuminated Magazine," 1843 to 1845.

1844. "The Comic Arithmetic," designs on wood.

"Punch's Snap-Dragon for Children," four etchings.

"A Christmas Carol," by Charles Dickens, four coloured plates and cuts.

"Jessie Phillips," by Mrs. Trollope, eleven plates.

[_With George Cruikshank._] "Colin Clink," by Charles Hooton.

1845. [_With Doyle and others._] "The Chimes," by Charles Dickens.

"Hints in Life; or, How to Rise in Society," frontispiece.

"Young Master Troublesome; or, Master Jacky's Holidays."

"Douglas Jerrold's Shilling Magazine," 1845 to 1848. Etchings to "St.
Giles and St. James."

1846. "The Quizziology of the British Drama," by Gilbert à Beckett,

"The Comic Annual" (a re-publication of "Hood's Whimsicalities"),
forty-five illustrations.

[_With Doyle and others._] "The Battle of Life," by Charles Dickens.

1847. "The Comic History of England," by Gilbert à Beckett, coloured
etchings and numerous designs on wood.

1848. "The Life and Adventures of Oliver Goldsmith," by John Forster
[_with another_].

"The Rising Generation," twelve large, tinted lithographs, issued from
the _Punch_ office.

"The Struggles and Adventures of Christopher Tadpole," by Albert Smith,

[_With John Tenniel and others._] "The Haunted Man and the Ghost's
Bargain," by Charles Dickens. 1847-8.

[_With Richard Doyle and Alfred Crowquill._] "Bon Gaultier's Book of
Ballads," by Theodore Martin and Professor Aytoun. 1849.

"A Man made of Money," by Douglas Jerrold, twelve etchings.

"Natural History of Evening Parties," by Albert Smith.

1851. "The Month," edited by Albert Smith.

1852. "Dashes of American Humour," by Howard Paul.

"The Comic History of Rome," by Gilbert à Beckett, ten coloured etchings
and numerous designs on wood.

1853. "The Fortunes of Hector O'Halloran and his man Mark Antony Toole,"
by W. H. Maxwell, etchings.

"Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour," by R. W. Surtees, twelve coloured etchings
and numerous designs on wood.

1854. "The Great Highway," by S. W. Fullom.

"Handley Cross; or, Mr. Jorrock's Jaunts," by R. W. Surtees, coloured
etchings and numerous designs on wood.

1856. "The Paragreens."

1857. "Merry Pictures," by the Comic Hands of Phiz, Leech, Kenny
Meadows, Gavarni, and others.

"The Militia Man at Home and Abroad," by Emeritus.

"A Month in the Forests of France," by the Hon. Grantley F. Berkeley.

1858. "Encyclopædia of Rural Sports."

"Ask Mamma; or, the Richest Commoner in England," by R. W. Surtees,
coloured etchings and numerous designs on wood.

1859. "The Fliers of the Hunt," by John Mills.

"A Little Tour in Ireland," by the Rev. S. Reynolds Hole, coloured
folding frontispiece and designs on wood.

"Newton Dogvane: a Story of English Life," by J. Francis.

"Soapey Sponge" (sporting).

"Paul Prendergast."

"Once a Week," 1859 to 1864.

1860. "Mr. Briggs and His Doings" (fishing), twelve coloured plates.

"Plain or Ringlets," by R. W. Surtees, coloured etchings and numerous
designs on wood.

[_With George Cruikshank, "Phiz," and John Tenniel._] "Puck on Pegasus."

"Mill's Life of a Fox-Hound."

[_With George Cruikshank and John Tenniel._] "The Ingoldsby Legends."

"The Follies of the Year," twenty-one coloured etchings from _Punch's_
"Pocket Books," with descriptive letterpress by Shirley Brooks.

"Mr. Facey Romford's Hounds," by R. W. Surtees, coloured etchings and
designs on wood (finished by "Phiz").

[_With Doyle and others._] "The Cricket on the Hearth." By Charles
Dickens. 1845-6.


"Fly Leaves," lithographs.

"Sketches of Life and Character taken at the Police Court, Bow Street,"
by George Hodder.



"Ups and Downs," 1823; "Paternal Pride," 1825; "Despondency and
Jealousy" (with George Cruikshank), and many others, in 1825; "Der
Freyschutz Travestied," "Alfred Crowquill's Sketch-Book," "Absurdities
in Prose and Verse," 1827; Goethe's "Faust," 1834; six plates of
"Pickwickian Sketches," Alfred Bunn's "Vauxhall Papers," 1841; designs
on wood for "Sea Pie," an _omnium gatherum_ containing also plates after
David Cox, Pyne, Stanfield, and Vickers, 1842; "Punch" (vols. ii. to
iv.); plates and numerous designs on wood for "Bentley's Miscellany,"
many original designs to "Doctor Syntax's Tour in Search of the
Picturesque," 1844; "Comic Arithmetic" (forty-seven humorous vignettes),
1844; "Woman's Love," 1846; "Wanderings of a Pen and Pencil," 1846; "A
Good-natured Hint about California," 1849; "The Excitement" (2 plates),
1849; 120 designs on wood for the "Pictorial Grammar;" designs on wood
for the "Pictorial Arithmetic;" "Gold," 1850; "A Bundle of Crowquills
Dropped by Alfred Crowquill," 1854; "Fun," 1854; "Griffel
Swillendrunken," 1856; "Aunt Mavor's Nursery Tales," 1856; "Little
Pilgrim," 1856; "Little Plays for Little Actors," 1856; "Fairy Tales,"
1857; "Merry Pictures by the Comic Hands of 'Phiz,'" etc. (Kent & Co.),
1857; "The Book of Ballads," by Bon Gaultier (with Doyle and Leech),
1857; "A New Story Book," 1858; "Fairy Tales," by Cuthbert Bede, 1858;
"Baron Munchausen" (coloured plates), 1858; "Tyll Owlglass" (a similar
book), 1859; "Honesty and Cunning," 1859; "Kindness and Cruelty," 1859;
"The Red Cap," 1859; "Paul Prendergast," 1859; "Strange Surprising
Adventures of the Venerable Gooros Simple," 1861; "Fairy Footsteps,"
1861; Chambers' "Book of Days;" G. W. Reynolds' "Pickwick Abroad" (now
scarce); "The Boys and the Giant," 1870; "The Cunning Fox," 1870; "Dick
Doolittle," 1870; "Little Tiny's Picture Book," 1871; "Guide to the
Watering Places" (views and comic plates); "Comic Eton Grammar" (with
Leech); "Fairy Footsteps; or, Lessons from Legends" (100 designs on
wood, with Kenny Meadows); Henry Cockton's "Sisters; or, England and



Charles Dickens's "Sunday under Three Heads," 1836.

"Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club," forty-three plates by Seymour
and "Phiz." 1836-37.

_The following are also to be met with._

"Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club," with the Seymour and "Phiz"
plates, the two suppressed plates of "Buss," and the extra series of
thirty plates by Onwhyn. 1837.

_The same_, with the forty plates by Seymour and "Phiz," the two
suppressed plates of Buss, and twenty-three plates by "Sam Weller" and

"Sketches of Young Ladies by 'Quiz'" (Charles Dickens), six copper
plates, 1837.

James Grant's "Sketches in London," twenty-four humorous illustrations
on steel by "Phiz" and others, Orr, 1838. Another edition in 1840.

"A Paper of Tobacco: a Treatise on Smoking, with Anecdotes, Mems on
Pipes, Tobacco-boxes, and Snuff." By Joseph Fume, Copper plates and
picture boards. 1839.

"Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby." 1839.

_The same_, with the plates by "Phiz," and an extra series of plates by
Onwhyn and "Peter Palette." 1839.

_The same_, with the forty plates by "Phiz," and a set of forty plates
by "Peter Palette" added.

"New Sporting Magazine." 1839.

Charles Lever's "Harry Lorrequer." 1839. (A pirated edition was
published at Philadelphia, 1840.)

"London Magazine, Charivari, and Courrier des Dames" (with Leech and
"Gillray, Junr."). 1840.

"Master Humphrey's Clock," "Old Curiosity Shop," and "Barnaby Rudge,"
designs on wood, with Cattermole. 3 vols. 1840-41.

"Sir Thomas Dick Lauder's Legendary Tales of the Highlands." 3 vols.

Charles Lever's "Charles O'Malley, the Irish Dragoon," 2 vols. Dublin,

"Peter Priggins, the College Scout," 3 vols. 1841 (made its first
appearance without illustrations in the _New Monthly Magazine_).

"The Pic-nic Papers," by Various Hands, edited by Charles Dickens,
plates by Cruikshank, "Phiz," and Hamerton. 3 vols. 1841.

W. H. Maxwell's "Rambling Recollections of a Soldier of Fortune,"
woodcuts by "Phiz" and others. Dublin, 1842.

Lever's "Jack Hinton." Dublin, 1842-43.

Carleton's "Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry" (both series),
steel plates by "Phiz," Sir J. Gilbert, Franklin, etc., and woodcuts. 2
vols. Dublin, 1843-44.

Charles Dickens's "Martin Chuzzlewit," forty plates. 1844.

Charles Lever's "Tom Burke of Ours." Dublin, 1844.

"Ainsworth's Magazine," from and after 1844.

"The Illuminated Magazine" [_with Meadows, Sargent, Gilbert, Harvey,
etc._]. 1845.

Charles Lever's "St. Patrick's Eve," woodcuts and fine steel etchings.

"Tales of the Trains; some Chapters of Railroad Romance," by Tilbury
Tramp (_i.e._ Charles Lever). Orr, 1845.

"Nuts and Nutcrackers." 1845.

Charles Lever's "The O'Donoghue." Dublin, 1845.

"Fiddle-Faddle's Sentimental Tour in Search of the Amusing, Picturesque,
and Agreeable." 1845.

"The Union Magazine," vol. i. Three plates. 1846.

"Fanny the Little Milliner; or, the Rich and the Poor" [_with Onwhyn_].

"The Commissioner; or, De Lunatico Inquirendo," twenty-eight steel
plates. Dublin, 1846.

"A Medical, Moral, and Christian Dissertion of Teetotalism," by
Democritus. 1846.

Charles Lever's "Knight of Gwynne." 1847.

"The Fortunes of Colonel Torlogh O'Brien: a Tale of the Wars of King
James." Dublin, 1847.

"John Smith's Irish Diamonds; or, a Theory of Irish Wit and Blunders."

W. Harrison Ainsworth's "Old St. Paul's," two plates. 1847.

Charles Dickens's "Dombey and Son." 1846-48.

Twelve full-length portraits illustrating "Dombey and Son," designed and
etched by "Phiz." (Sometimes bound up with the book.) 1848.

Albert Smith's "The Pottleton Legacy." 1849. (Another edition in 1854.)

Charles Dickens's "David Copperfield," forty plates. 1849-50.

Charles Lever's "Roland Cashel." 1849-50.

John Smith's "Sketches of Cantabs," two plates. 1850.

Defoe's "Robinson Crusoe," full-page cuts. 1850.

"The Illustrated Byron," two hundred woodcuts after Kenny Meadows,
Birket Foster, Phiz, and Janet. _Circa_ 1850.

"Ghost Stories and Tales of Mystery," etchings. Dublin, 1851.

"The Daltons." (Charles Lever.) 1850-52.

Francis Edward Smedley's "Lewis Arundel." 1852.

Charles Dickens's "Bleak House," thirty-nine plates. 1852-53.

Horace Mayhew's "Letters Left at the Pastrycook's: being the
Correspondence of Kitty Clover," cuts. 1853.

W. Harrison Ainsworth's "Crichton."

"Christmas Day, and How it was Spent by four Persons in the House of
Fograss, Fograss, Mowton, and Snorton, Bankers," by C. Le Ros. Woodcuts.

Charles Lever's "Dodd Family Abroad." 1854.

Francis E. Smedley's "Harry Coverdale's Courtship." 1854.

Charles Lever's "Martins of Cro' Martin." 1856.

"Home Pictures," seven excellent plates. Darton & Co. 1856.

Charles Dickens's "Little Dorrit." 1855-57.

W. Harrison Ainsworth's "Spendthrift," 1857; "Mervyn
Clitheroe," 1857-58.

Charles Lever's "Davenport Dunn." 1859.

Mrs. Stowe's "The Minister's Wooing." 1859.

Charles Dickens's "Tale of Two Cities," sixteen etchings; the last work
he executed for that author.

W. Harrison Ainsworth's "Ovingdean Grange; a Tale of the South Downs."

"Twigs for Nests; or, Notes on Nursery Nurture," illustrations in
graphotype by H. K. Browne and others, 1860.

Charles Lever's "One of Them," 1861; "Barrington," 1862-63.

"Tom Moody's Tales." (Mark Lemon.) 1864.

"Mr. Facey Romford's Hounds" (Surtees), [_with John Leech_]. 1864.

Charles Lever's "Luttrell of Arran." 1865.

"Ballads and Songs of Brittany," by Tom Taylor, translated from the
"Barsaz-Breiz," illustrations by Tenniel, Millais, H. K. Browne, and
others. 1865.

Anthony Trollope's "Can You Forgive Her?" (forty plates by Phiz and
Marcus Stone.) 1866.

"Dame Perkins and her Grey Mare," by J. L. Meadows. 1866.

_And the following._

"The Illustrated Musical Annual" [_with Kenny Meadows and Crowquill_].

"The Works of Shakespeare," revised from the original text by Samuel
Phelps. 2 vols. Numerous coloured plates.

"Wits and Beaux of Society," by Grace and Philip Wharton (Mrs. K. and J.
C. Thomson); plates by Brown and Godwin.

"Memoirs of an Umbrella," by G. G. H. Rodwell, sixty-eight engravings by
Landells from designs by Phiz.

"Phiz's Sketches of the Seaside and the Country," twenty-eight large
plates, tinted mountings; oblong folio.

Smollett's "Adventures of Roderick Random."

Charles Lever's "Con Creggan."

"H. B.'s Schoolboy Days."

"Illustrations of the Five Senses."

George Halse's "Adventures of Sir Guy de Guy."

G. A. Salas "Baddington Peerage" (in _Illustrated Times_).

The Abbotsford Edition of "The Waverley Novels," etc., etc.

See also the "Memorial Edition" of Dickens's whole works, with several
hundred illustrations by George Cruikshank, H. K. Browne, and others,
printed on Chinese paper.

_And in the following serials_.

"New Monthly Magazine"; early volumes of "Once a Week"; "Tinsley's
Magazine"; "London Society"; "St. James's Magazine"; "Illustrated
Gazette"; "Sporting Times"; "Judy"; etc.


  "A Bazaar," 145.

  À Beckett, Gilbert, 223.

  Aberdeen, Lord, 303, 395.

  Abinger, Lord, 252.

  Aboukir, Battle of, 13.

  Achilles, Statue of, 81, 161.

  "Achitophel," 159.

  "A Constitutional Plum Pudding," 298.

  Actors, their position in France, 386.

  "A Day at Biarritz," 317.

  "Adelaide Mill, The," 213.

  Adelphi Theatre, 110.

  "A Discussion Forum," 310.

  Adulteration of Tea, 152.

  "Adventures of Brown, Jones," etc., 391.

  "A Fine Old English Gentleman," 251.

  "A Great Subject," etc., 249.

  "Ah, sure such a Pair," etc., 155.

  "A Hint to Duellists," 248.

  Ainsworth, Harrison, 194, 198, 199.

  Ainsworth's "Auriol," 349.
    "Crichton," 344.

  Albert, Prince, 294.

  Alexander, The Emperor, 133, 139.

  "Alice in Wonderland," 400.

  "All My Eye," 97.

  Allied Sovereigns. Visit of the, 133.

  Alliteration, Graphic, 177.

  Almack's, Lady patronesses of, 213.

  Althorp, Lord, 269.

  "A Match for the King's Plate," 154.

    Causes of Difference between her and England in 1812, 41.
    England offers to Revoke Orders in Council, 42.
    Her anxiety to fix a Quarrel on England, 42, 43.
    Desire of the Americans to Invade Canada, 42.
    Invasion of Canada, 43.
    Defeat and Surrender of the American General Hull, 43.
    Naval Successes of the Americans, 43.
    Americans driven out of Canada, 45.
    English assume the Offensive, 45.
    Burning of Washington, 46.
    Alexandria placed under Contribution, 46.
    Capture of British Naval Force, 48.
    Retreat of Prevost, 48.
    Attack on New Orleans, 48.

  Amiens, Peace of, 14.

  "A Morning Call," 285.

  "A Musical Genius," 209.

  "Anstey's New Bath Guide," 176.

  "A Paper of Tobacco," 340.

  "A Patriot Luminary," etc., 151.

  "Apollyon, the Devil's Generalissimo," etc., 131.

  "A Prospecte of Exeter Hall," 385.

  "A Race for the Westminster Stakes," 251.

  "Argus, The" (an English Newspaper in the pay of Bonaparte), 15.

  "Arrogance or Nonchalance of the Tenth Reported," 100.

  "Art of Walking the Streets of London," 152.

  Arthur à Bradley, 162.

  "Arthur O'Leary," 200.

  "A Select Specimen of the Black Style," 262.

  "A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing," 374.

  "A Shot from Buckingham to Bedford," 97.

  "Assisting, Resisting, and Desisting," 218.

  "A Student of the Old Masters," 393.

  "At a Concert," 220.

  "Auld Lang Syne," 247.

  Authors and Artists, Quarrels between, 233.

  "A Venomous Viper poisoning the R----l Mind," 132.

  "A View of the Regent's Bomb," 151.

  Ball, Hughes (see "_Hughes Ball_.")

  "Bank Restriction Note," 152.

  Barossa, Battle of, 21.

  Bath, Queen Charlotte at, 57.

  Battier, Mr., 100, 163.

  Baylen, Battle of, 20.

  Beaconsfield, Lord, 283.

  "Beau Clerk for a Banking Concern," 106.

  "Belle Alliance," etc., 154.

  Bellingham, John, 27.

  "Bell's Life," Origin of, 115.

  Bennett, C. H., 371-375.

  Benningsen, General, 22.

  "Bentley's Miscellany," 284, 290.

  Bergami, Bartolomeo, 71, 150.

  Berkeley, Colonel, 101, 102, 118.

  Berlin Decree, 18.

  Bernard Blackmantle (see "_Westmacott, C. M._").

  Betty, Master, 28.

  "Bill of Pains and Penalties," 149.

  "Birds'-eye Views of Society," 385.

  Black-mail, 105.

  Blandford, Marquis of, 235.

  "Bleak House," 347.

  "Blessings of Peace; or, the Curse of the Corn Bill," 136.

  Bloated Men of the Last Century, 2.

  "Bombardment Extraordinary," 240.

  Bonaparte, Napoleon (see "_Napoleon_").

  "Boney and his New Wife," etc., 21.

  "Boney's Meditations on the Island of St. Helena," 142.

  "Boney returning from Russia covered with Glory," 23.

  "Boney the Second," 21.

  "Boney's threatened Invasion brought to bear," 142.

  "Bonnie Willie," 161.

  "Book of Christmas," 220.

  "Book of Days," 369.

  Booth, Lucius Junius, 54.

  "Born a Genius, and born a Dwarf," 173.

  "Bottle, The," 201.

  "Braintrees, The," 171.

  Brereton, Colonel, 223 (note).

  Bright, John, 398.

  Brighton Pavilion, 164.

  "Bringing up our Bill," 243.

  "Britannia Discovering the Source of the Nile," 399.

  "British Cookery; or, out of the Frying-pan," etc., 21.

  "British Spread Eagle," 134.

  Brooks, Shirley, 201, 321, 328, 373, 374.

  Brougham, Lord, 236, 237, 243, 258-266, 297, 384 (and see "_Jemmy

  Browne, H. K., 283, 336-354, 412-416.

  "Bubble Burst; or, the Ghost of an old Act of Parliament," 106.

  Buckingham, Duke of (see "_Duel_").

  Buckingham, Marquis of, 27.

  Bunbury, H. W., 3, 84.

  "Bunsby," 342.

  Burdett, Sir Francis, 249-251, 253, 269.

  "Burking Old Mrs. Constitution," 83.

  Busby, Dr., 35.

  Buss, R. W., 363-366.

  "Buz in a Box," etc., 35.

  Byron, Lord, 164.

  "Caleidoscope; or, Paying for Peeping." 59.

  Canada, Invasion of (see "_America_").

    Dr. Johnson's Definition, 1.
    Francis Grose's Definition, 1.
    Modern Meaning, 2.
    Causes of its Decay in England, 2.
    Period of its Decline, 83.
    Injurious Effect of Wood-Engraving on, 5.
    Has little Concern with Justice, 25, 26.

  Caricaturist, Peculiarity of his Wares, 90.

  Caricaturists and Critics, 9.

  Caricaturists, French, 8.

  Caroline of Brunswick, 62-81, 95, 132, 134, 149, 155, 156-159.

  Caroline, Queen (see "_Caroline of Brunswick_").

  Carpenter, Mr., 39.

  Castlereagh, Lord, 149.

  Catalani, Madame, 102.

  Catholic Association, The, 106.

  Catholic Emancipation (see "_Catholic Relief_").

  Catholic Relief Bill, 83, 106, 248.

  Cawnpore Massacre, 398.

  Champ de Mars, 140.

  Changes in Political Opinion, 251.

  Charles I., Discovery of his Remains, 132.

  Charlotte, The Princess, 40, 50, 61, 134, 145, 150, 164.

  Charlotte, Queen, 56, 153.

  Chobham, Camp at, 303.

  "Chronicles of Clovernook," 362.

  Churchill, Charles, 7.

  Cider Cellar, 87.

  "City Scavengers Cleansing the London Streets of Impurities," 76.

  "Civic Louse in the State Bed," 102.

  Clarke, Mrs., 30, 32, 33.

  "Clement Lorymer," 205.

  Coates (see "_Romeo Coates_").

  Cobbett, William, 235 (_note_).

  Cobden, Richard, 383.

  Cockton, Henry, 361.

  "Coke upon Albemarle," 97.

  Colburn's "Kalendar of Amusements," 122.

  "Collegians at their Exercises," 95.

  "Colonel Fitz-Bastard," 103.

  "Comic Almanack," 177, 179.

  Comic Journalism in 1831, 223.

  "Comic Magazine, The," 229.

  "Comicalities" ("Bell's Life"), 281.

  "Comic History of England," 287.

  "Comic History of Rome," 288.

  Commercial Distress of 1825-6, 81.

  "Commons _versus_ the Crown of Martyrdom," 100.

  "Comparative Anatomy," 152.

  "Congress Dissolved before the Cake was cut up," 139.

  Connyngham, Marchioness of, 118, 134, 164.

  "Conspirators; or, Delegates in Council," 148.

  "Corinthian Auctioneer," 102.

  "Corinthians," Sham, 93.

  Corn Laws, 135.

  "Corsican Bloodhound beset by the Bears," 22.

  "Corsican's Last Trip," 142.

  "Court at Brighton, _à la Chinese_," 164.

  "Craven's Head" (Drury Lane), 86.

  Cremorne, Aristocratic fête at, 311.

  "Cribbage, Shuffling, Whist," etc., 161.

  Crimean War, 304, 398.

  "Crithannah's Original Fables," 122.

  Critics and Caricaturists, 9.

  Croker, John Wilson, 245 (_note_).

  Crowquill, Alfred (see "_Forrester_.")

  Cruikshank, George, 107, 125-207, 281 (_note_), 281, and _note_.
    Mistakes of those who have written on him, 4.
    Curious Criticism on, 125.
    Why his Caricatures possess so much interest, 127.
    Quarrel with Dickens, 192.
       "      "  Bentley, 194.
       "      "  Ainsworth, 198.
    Final Leap in the Dark, 201.
    Declines to draw for _Punch_, 201.

  Cruikshank, Robert, 3, 89-124, 226, 401-404.

  Cruikshank, The Brothers, 89.

  Cruikshankian Feet, 170.
       "        Steed, The, 169.
       "        Trees, 170.
       "        Women, 168.

  "Cruikshankiana," 107.

  "Cruikshank's Comic Album," 121.

  "Cruikshank's Fairy Library," 205.

  "Cruising on Land," etc., 95.

  Cumberland, Duke of 100, 241, 242.

  Curtis, Sir William, 141, 159.

  "Cut at the City Cauliflower," 102.

  "Dame Partington and the Ocean of Reform," 243.

  "Dandies at Tea," 92.

  "Dandies Diving," 93.

  "Dandies having a Treat," 93.

  "Dandies in France," 154.

  "Dandies on their Hobbies," 94.

  "Dandies, Parisian," 91.

  "Dandy Cock in Stays," 93.

  "Dandy dressing at Home," etc., 94.

  "Dandy Henpecked, The," 93.

  "Dandy put to his Last Chemisette," etc., 93.

  "Dandy Shoemaker in a Fright," 93.

  "Dandy Sick," 94.

  "Dandy Tailor planning a new Hungry Dress," 154.

  "Dandyess, A," 94.

  D'Angoulème, Duc, 162.

  Darwin (see "_Origin of Species_").

  "Deaf Postillion," 169.

  "Death of the Property Tax," 164.

  "Death of Sikes," 185.

  Déesses de la Revolution, 25.

  "Defenders of the Faith," 106.

  "Delivering a Prophetess," 40.

  Depression in Trade in 1819, 60.

  "Descent of the Great Bear," 82.

  Devils, 182.

  Dickens, Charles, 191, 206, 230, 232, 282, 347-349.

  Dighton, Robert, 27, 84.

  "Diogenes," 371.

  Dissenting Ministers, Proposal to amend their qualifications, 130.

  "Doctors Differ," 36.

  "Dog and the Shadow," 251.

  "Doings in London," 120.

  "Dombey and Son," 345.

  Dominie Sampson, 176.

  Doré, Gustave, 7, 9.

  Double Bass, 132.

  Doyle, John (see "HB").

  Doyle, Richard, 379, 381-394.

  Draconian Laws, 152.

  "Drilling one-tenth," etc., 162.

  "Drunkard's Children, The," 202.

  Drury Lane Theatre, 34.

  Duel between the Dukes of Buckingham and Bedford, 81, 97.
    Between the Duke of Wellington and the Earl of Winchelsea, 248.
    Between Sir Francis Burdett and Mr. Paull, 249.

  "Duel that did not take place," 262.

  "Duelling," 106.

  Dumbiedikes, 176.

  "Dying Clown, The," 233.

  East Retford Bill, 236.

  Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, 386.

  "Economical Humbug of 1816," 144.

  Egan, Pierce, 85, 113, 120.

  Egypt, French driven out of, 13.

  Eldon, Lord, 70.

  Elgin Marbles, 145.

  Ellenborough, Lord, 66, 67, 70.

  Elliston, Life and Enterprises of, 205.

  "England's Hope Departing," 151.

  English Graphic Satire, Change in, 4.

  English hostility to Napoleon, 16.

  English Officers at the time of the Crimean War, 305.

  English Parliamentary Representation in 1830, 235.

  "English Spy, The," 116.

  E. O! 161.

  "Equipt for a Northern Visit," 161.

  "Etching Moralized," 9.

  Eugénie, The Empress, 317.

  Evans, Sir de Lacy, 253.

  "Examination of a Young Surgeon," 130.

  "Exile of Louisiana," 197.

  "Fagin in the Condemned Cell," 185.

  Fairy Tales, Origin of, 205.

  "Fall of Icarus," 264.

  "Fall of the Leaf," 177.

  "Fall of Washington, or Maddy in Full Flight," 46.

  "Fashionables of 1817," 151.

  Fashions in the early part of the Century, 91, 92.

  Fechter, 330.

  "Female Lancers," etc., 94.

  Ferdinand VII., 98.

  "Figaro in London," 222-229, 232.

  "Fine Lady, or The Incomparable," 152.

  "Finish to the Adventures of Tom, Jerry, and Logic," 113.

  "Fitzalleyne of Berkeley," 118.

  "Flat Catcher and the Rat Catcher," 106.

  Foley, Mr., 39.

  "Following the Leader," 250.

  "Football," 107.

  "Foot on the Stage and Asses in the Pit," 102.

  Foote, Miss, 81, 101, 118.

  Foote v. Hayne, 118.

  "Foreign Affairs," 285.

  "Foreign Rivals for British Patronage," 105.

  Forrester, A. H. (Alfred Crowquill), 194, 368-371, 410.

  "Four Mr. Prices," 164.

  France, Evacuation of, 55.

  "France the Great Nation," etc., 162.

  "Frank and Free, or Clerical Characters in 1825," 106.

  "Frank Fairleigh," 205.

  Freewill Offerings of the Faithful, 39.

  "French Cock and the Roman Eagle," 298.

  French Colonels and the _Moniteur_, 310.

  French driven out of Egypt, 13.

  French interposition in Spain, 98.

  French light wines, 313.

  French military imbecility, 307, 309.

  French Revolution, End of, 17.

  French Revolution of 1830, 213.

  French Royalist Caricatures on Napoleon, 24.

  "Friends in Need," 143.

  "Gambols on the River Thames," 135.

  Gas, Introduction of, 29.

  "Gavarni in London," 369 (_note_).

  Genius, 187.

  "Genius of France Expounding her Laws," etc., 142.

  George III., 27, 214.

  George IV., 52, 72, 79, 95, 111, 117, 143, 144 (_note_), 153, 155, 159,
    164, 210 (and see "_Caroline of Brunswick_").

  "General Frost Shaving Boney," 22.

  "General Janvier," 306.

  "German Popular Stories," 180.

  "Gheber Worshipping the Rising Sun," 261.

  "Ghosts," 181.

  "Giant Grumbo," 154.

  Gillray, James, 3, 4, 24, 25, 33, 84.

  "Gin Shop, The," 168, 172, 184.

  Gladstone, Mr., 398.

  "Going it by Steam," 209.

  "Going to Hobby Fair," 95.

  "Golden Foot-Ball," 99.

  "Gone!" 178.

  "Good Effects of Carbonic Gas," 29.

  Government Spies, 53.

  Grafton, Duke of, 27.

  Graham, Sir James, 252, 295.

  "Grand Entrance to Bamboozlem," 80.

  Graphic Alliteration, 177.

  "Great Unknown lately discovered in Ireland," 104.

  Greek War of Independence, 81.

  Green Bag, Opening of the, 73.

  "Greenwich Hospital," 171, 175.

  Grey, Earl, 241, 244.

  Habeas Corpus Act, Suspension of the, 52.

  Hamilton, Lady Anne, 73.

  "Hare Presumptuous," 106.

  "Harp" (in Russell Street, Drury Lane), 87.

  Haydon, B. R., 173.

  Haynau, General, 298.

  Hayne (see "_Pea-Green Hayne_").

  HB, 5, 235-276.

  Heath, H., 84.

  Heath, William, 84, 104, 238.

  Hervieu, A., 194.

  "Hint to the Blind and Foolish," 162.

  Hobbies, The, 59.

  "Hobby-Horse Dealer," 154.

  Hogarth, William, not a Caricaturist, 6.
    Absurdity of comparing him with Modern Comic Artists, 6.

  Holy Alliance, The, 98.

  "Homburg Waltz," 58.

  "Horse Chancellor obtaining a Verdict," 159.

  "Horse Marine and his Trumpeter," 91.

  "Hostile Press, or Shakspeare in Danger," 104.

  "How do you like the New Whig?" 296.

  How to set up as a Prophet, 39.

  Hughes Ball, 99.

  "I'll be your Second," 241.

  "Illuminated Magazine," 286.

  _Incroyables_, The, 91.

  "Impostor, or Obstetric Dispute," 134.

  Indian Mutinies, 396.

  Informers of 1817, 148.

  "Ingoldsby Legends," 289, 400.

  "Interesting Scene on Board an East-Indian," 152.

  "Interior View of the House of God," 130.

  "Introduction to the Gout," 152.

  "Ireland": an Artist's Dream, 384.

  Irish Coercion Bill of 1833, 269, 270.

  "Irish Decency," 154.

  Irish Disaffection in 1833, 266.

  Irish _Festa_, 178.

  "Jack o' Lantern," 181.

  "Jack Sheppard," 172, 199, 343.

  "Je vous n'entends pas," 122.

  "Jemmy Twitcher" (Lord Brougham), 265 (_note_).

  Jerrold, Douglas, 387.

  Jim Crow, 252.

  "John Bull buying Stones," etc., 146.

  "John Bull brought up for a Discharge," etc., 147.

  "John Bull Done Over," 60.

  "John Bull flourishing in an attitude of Strict Neutrality," 99.

  "John Bull in Clover," 60.

  "John Bull _versus_ Pope Bull," 106.

  "Jonathan Wyld discovering Darrell," 172.

  "Johnny Bull and his Forged Notes," 154.

  "John's Dream," 143.

  Josephine, The Empress, 3, 20, 25.

  Judge, Mr., 102.

  Kaleidoscope, The, 58.

  Kean, Edmund, 54, 103.

  "Kean's Head" (Russel Court), 86.

  Kenny Meadows, 355-363.

  Kenyon, Lord, 241.

  "Key to the Investigation," 67.

  "King at Home, The," 117.

  "King Gourmand XVIII.," etc., 99.

  "La Belle Assemblée," 151.

  Labedoyère, Colonel, 138.

  "Ladies' Accelerator," 95.

  La Diligence, 159.

  La Douane, 159.

  "Lancashire Witches," 200.

  "Landing at Dover and Overhauling the Baggage," 95.

  Lane, Theodore, 84-88.

  "L'après-dîner des Anglais," 24.

  "Last Cab-driver," 176.

  "Leap Year, or John Bull's Establishment," 50.

  Leech, John, 233, 277-335, 337, 407-409.
    "Sketches in Oil," 315.

  Leigh, Percival, 282.

  Leipzig, Battle of, 24.

  Lemon, Mark, 201.

  Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, Prince, 145.

  _Les Graces_, 151.

  Lever, Charles, 200, 352, 375.

  "Lewis Arundel," 337.

  "Libra--Striking the Balance," 177.

  "Life of an Actor," 85.

  "Life of Sir John Falstaff," 205.

  "Life in London," 109.
    Egan's Share of the Work, 113.

  Lines and Dots, 151.

  Literary Black-Mail, 115.

  "Little Boney gone to Pot," 132.

  "Lolly Pop," etc., 162.

  "London Barrow Woman, The," 169.

  Londonderry, Marquis of: Scene between him and Lord Brougham, 262.

  "Louis the Fat troubled with the Nightmare," 162.

  Louis Philippe, 297, 383.

  Louis XVIII., 98, 143, 162.

  "Love, Law, and Physic," 154.

  "Loyalist Magazine," 131.

  McConnell, 372.

  Maddison, President, 46.

  "Man of Taste and Feeling," 209.

  "Manners and Customs of ye Englishe," 385.

  "Manslaughter Men, The," 158.

  "March to Finchley, The," 7.

  Marriage Act, The, 81.

  "Martin Chuzzlewit," 341, 344.

  Massena, 21.

  "Master Cook and his Black Scullion," etc., 96.

  "Master of the Ordnance Exercising his Hobby," 95.

  "Mat de Cocagne," 143.

  "Matheworama," 106.

  "Mauger Sharpening his Axe," 186.

  Maxwell's "History of the Irish Rebellion," 186.

  Mayhew, H., 201.

  Meadows (see "_Kenny_").

  Medical Profession, Satire on, 35.

  "Meditations Amongst the Tombs," 132.

  Melbourne, Lord, 252.

  Melville, Lord, 28.

  "Mer de Glace," 159.

  Mercandotti, Madamoiselle, 100.

  "Meteor, The," 128.

  Methodism, Spread of, 129.

  Metternich, Prince, 150.

  Milan Commission, 96.

  "Miss endeavouring to excite a Glow with her Dutch Plaything," 41.

  "Miss Foote in the King's Bench Battery," 102.

  "Miss Foote putting her Foot in it," 102.

  "Miser's Daughter," 173, 199.

  Mitford, Jack (Editor of the "Scourge"), 129 (_note_).

  Mob, A Cowardly, 247.

  "Moments of Prattle," etc., 102.

  Moray Minstrels, 374.

  "More Plots!!!" 53.

  "Morning after Marriage," 97.

  "Morning Journal," 240.

  Moscow, Retreat from, 22.

  "Mother's Girl Plucking a Crow," etc., 91.

  "Mr. Punch's Fancy Ball," 287.

  "Murder of Sir Rowland Trenchard," 185.

  "Mysterious Fair One," 95.

  "Nap nearly Nabb'd," 22.

  _Napoleon Bonaparte_.
    His Policy towards England, 13-18.
    Proclaimed Emperor, 17.
    Intention to invade England, 17.
    Lampooned by English Caricaturists, 19, 24, 26.
    Dislike to the Revolutionists, 26.
    His Star begins to Wane, 22.
    Retreat from Moscow, 22.
    Narrowly escapes Capture, 22.
    Leaves his Troops in Russia, 22.
    At Elba, 132.
    Return from Elba till his Fall, 137-142.
    French Royalist Caricatures on, 24.

  Napoleon, Louis, 299, 300-302, 396, 397.

  Napoleon III. (see "_Napoleon, Louis_").

  "Nap's Glorious Return, or the Conclusion of the Russian Campaign," 24.

  Navarino, Battle of, 82.

  "Nest in Danger," 82.

  "New Chancery Suit Removed," etc., 95.

  "Newcomes, The," 377, 393.

  "New Irish Jaunting Car," 95.

  New Orleans, Attack on (see "_America_").

  "New Readings of Old Authors," 221.

  Newspaper Stamp Duty, 255.

  Newspapers, Cheap, Curious Arguments against, 256.

  Ney, Marshall, 139.

  "Nicholas Nickleby," 340.

  Nicholas, The Emperor, 303, 306, 395.

  "Night Mayor," 146.

  Nile (see "_Britannia_").

  "Non Mi Recordo," 128.

  "Nosing the Nob at Ramsgate," 159.

  "Notice to Correspondents," 226.

  "Novels by Eminent Hands," 375.

  "Nun of Arronca," 254.

  O'Connell, 106, 236, 237, 252, 270-272, 295, and _note_.

  "Old Bags" (see "_Eldon, Lord_").

  "Old Bumblehead the 18th," 162.

  "Old Curiosity Shop," 341, 345.

  "Old St. Paul's," 199.

  "Old Thirty-nine shaking hands with his good Brother the Pope," 153.

  "Oliver Twist," 192.

  "O! O! There's a Minister of the Gospel," 159.

  "Opening of Sir William Curtis' Campaign," 141.

  "Oppidans' Museum, The," 117.

  Origin of Species, 371.

  Orsini Plot, 311.

  "Ostend Packet in a Squall," 163.

  "Our tough old Ship," 154.

  Oxenford, John, 201.

  "Pair of Spectacles, or The London Stage in 1824-5," 106.

  "Palais Royal," 152.

  Papal Aggression, 299, 386.

  "Parisian Luxury," 163.

  "Paul Pry," 84 (and see "_Heath, William_").

  "Paving the way for a Royal Divorce," 70.

  "Paying Off a Jew Pedlar," 175.

  Pea-green Hayne, 101.

  Peace-at-any-price Party, The, 383.

  "Pedigree of Corporal Violet," 143.

  Peel, Sir Robert, 272, 295, 296.

  "Peel's Dirty Little Boy," 296.

  "Peep at the Gaslights in Pall Mall," 29.

  "Peep at the Pump Room," 57.

  Pellegrini, Carlo, 5.

  "Peter Schlemihl," 174.

  Phiz (see "_Browne, H. K_.").

  "Pickwick Papers," 230-234, 340, 364.

  Pius IX., 298.

  "Plebeian Spirit, or Coachee and the Heiress Presumptive," 40.

  "Point of Honour, The," 171.

  "Points of Humour," 119.

  "Points of Misery," 119.

  "Polish Diet with French Dessert," 22.

  "Political Champion turned Resurrection Man," 95.

  "Political Fair, A," 19.

  "Political Shaver," 106.

  Poole, John, 230.

  Popple _v_. Stockdale, 106.

  Popular Discontent of 1816, 51.

  "Portrait of a Noble Lord in Order," 297.

  "Portraits of the English," 354.

  "Preachee and Floggee Too," 153.

  "Premier's Fix," 296.

  "Premium, Par, and Discount," 162.

  "Preparing for a Duel," 163.

  "Preparing for the Match," 145.

  "Preparing for the Witnesses," 96.

  "Presenting a Bill of Indemnification," 83.

  Prince of Wales' Theatre, its former titles, 225.

  Prince Regent (see "_George IV._").

  "Prisoners of War," 269.

  "Probable Effects of Good Living," etc., 295.

  "Punch," 287, 383.
      Rivals of, 367.

  Purchase System, 305.

  "Put Out," 297.

  "Queen Caroline running down the Royal George," 78.

  "Randolph and Hilda dancing at Ranelagh," 173.

  Rawkins, 279.

  "Recollections of the Court of Common Pleas," 171.

  "Redgauntlet," 185.

  Reform Bills of 1831-32, 242-245.

  Regent (see "_George IV._").

  "Religion à la Mode," 311.

  Religious credulity of English people, 37.

  "Results of a Northern Excursion," 161.

  "Return of Hercules from a Fancy Ball," 279.

  "Revolution at Madame Tussaud's," 178.

  Rice, the American Comedian, 251.

  "Rival Newsmongers," 258.

  Rival Richards, 55.

  Robinson, Mr. Frederick, 135.

  Robson, Thomas Frederick, 325.

  "Roland Cashel," 350.

  Romeo Coates, 49.

  Roscius, The Young, 28.

  "Rose Maylie and Oliver," 192.

  Rowlandson, Thomas, 3, 83, 84 and _note_, 118.

  "R-y-l Condescension," 149.

  "Royal Extinguisher," 159.

  "Royal Laundress," 143.

  Royal Levées, 308.

  "Royal Nuptials," 145.

  "Royal Red Bengal Tiger," 154.

  "Royal Rushlight," 156.

  Russell, Lord John, 236, 237, 242, 243, 244, 253, 254, 300, 306, 321,

  Russia and Turkey, 82, 395.

  "Russian Bear's Greece," 82.

  "Russian Condescension," 133.

  "Russian Dandy at Home," 56.

  "Sailors Carousing," 175.

  "Sailors' Description," etc., 162.

  "Saint Shela," 162.

  "Sales by Auction, or Provident Children," etc., 153.

  Sandford and Merton, 121.

  "Satirist, or Monthly Meteor," 131.

  "Scene after the Battle," 132.

  "Scene in the New Farce as performed at the Royalty," 155.

  "Scene in the New Farce called the 'Rivals,'" 61.

  "Scene in the Farce of 'Lofty Projects,'" 164.

  "Scene from the Pantomime of 'Cock-a-Doodle-Doo,'" 103.

  "Scotch Fiddle," 161.

  Scott, Sir Walter, 105.

  "Scourge, The," 21, 128.

  "Sealing up the People," 38.

  "Secret Insult, or Bribery and Corruption Rejected," 95.

  "Sergeant introducing his Dutch Wife," 169.

  Seurat, Claude Ambroise, 104.

  Seymour, Robert, 208-234, 405.

  "Seymour's Humorous Sketches," 218.

  "Shadows," 372.

  Shannon and Chesapeake, 44.

  Shiel, Mr., 269.

  "Shortshanks" (Robert Seymour), 208.

  "Showing Off," etc., 162.

  "Sick of the Property Tax," 143.

  "Sikes and the Dog," 172.

  Silver Ball, 102.

  "Simon Renard and Winwike," 172.

  "Simpkin Dancing," 175.

  Skeleton, The Living, 104.

  "Sketches by Boz," 172, 176.

  Smith, Albert, 287-289.

  Smithfield, 297.

  "Smoke Jack the Alarmist," 154.

  "Snuffing and Smoking," 220.

  "Snuffing out Boney," 133.

  Southcott, Joanna, 36-40, 134.

  "Spa Fields Orator Hunting for Popularity," 151.

  Spa Fields Riot, 51.

  Spain, Invasion of, by Duc d'Angoulème, 81.

  "Spanish Flies, or Boney taking an Immoderate Dose," 20.

  "Spanish Mule and a French Jackass," 162.

  Speculation Mania of 1825, 163.

  "Spirit Moving the Quakers upon Worldly Vanities," 59.

  "Sprig of Shelalegh," 171.

  St. Albans, Borough of, 301.

  St. Dunstan, 183.

  "St. James's, or the Court of Queen Anne," 179, 199.

  St. John Long the Quack, 214-217.

  "St. Swithin's Chapel," 168.

  Stanley, Lord, 252.

  "State Physicians Bleeding John Bull to Death," 147.

  "Steward at Sea in a Vain Tempest," 95.

  "Steward's Court of the Manor of Torre Devon," 78.

  "Stroller's Tale" in "Pickwick," 232.

  Sue's "Orphan," 122.

  Sullivan, Arthur, 374.

  "Sunday under Three Heads," 342.

  Surgeon, An Eccentric, 279.

  Surtees, R. W., 320.

  Sussex, Duke of, 249.

  "T Trade in Hot Water," 152.

  "Table Book," 201.

  "Tables Turned," 162.

  "Taking an Airing in Hyde Park," 247.

  Tallien, Madame, 25 (and _note_).

  "Taurus, a Literary Bull," 177.

  "Tea Just Over," 27.

  Tenniel, John, 394-400.

  Tenth Hussars, 81, 100.

  Terry, Kate, 375.

  Thackeray, W. M., 92, 201, 285, 316, 318, 387.
    As a Book-illustrator, 375-380.

  "Theatrical Fun Dinner," 378.

  "Three Courses and a Dessert," 171.

  "Through the Looking-glass," 400.

  Toleration Acts, Motion to amend them, 129.

  Tom and Jerry, 110.

  Tom Thumb, 173.

  "Tower of London," 172.

  Tozer, Mr., 39.

  Tract Droppers, 112.

  Transit, Robert (Robert Cruikshank), 117.

  Treadmill, 97.

  Trenton's Porter, 2.

  "Triumph of Cupid," 182.

  Two Elves, The, 180.

  "Urgent Private Affairs," 307.

  "Vagaries in Quest of the Wild and Wonderful," 218.

  "Vanity Fair," 92, 378.

  "Vaux and the Grapes," 265.

  "Venus de Medici," 159.

  Victoria, Queen, 61, 275.

  "View in Cumberland," 100.

  "Virginians," 377.

  "Vis-à-Vis," 151.

  "Visit to Vesuvius," etc., 159.

  Vitoria, Battle of, 24, 132.

  "Voila t'on Mort," 154.

  "Waiting on the Ladies," 164.

  "Waltzing," 107.

  Wardle, Colonel, 31.

  "Washing Boney's Court Dresses," 143.

  Washington, Burning of (see "_America_.")

  Watts Phillips, 372.

  Waverley Novels, 104, 176.

  Wellington, Duke of, 55, 141, 246-249, 395.

  Westmacott, C. M., 100, 115, 119.

  Wilkes, 7.

  William IV., 245, 261.

  Williams, C., 84.

  "Windsor Castle," 199.

  "Witches' Frolic," 181.

  "Wolves Triumphant," 103.

  Wood, Alderman, 73.

  Wood Engraving, its injurious effect on Caricature, 5.

  Woodward, G. M., 3, 84.

  "Worship of Bacchus," 203.

  "Wrekin" (Long Acre), 87.

  "Xit," 186.

  Year 1848, 383.

  York, Duke of, 30.

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

*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "English Caricaturists and Graphic Humourists of the Nineteenth Century. - How they Illustrated and Interpreted their Times." ***

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