No. 203. Despair.
No. 203. Despair.
Ten years almost from this time had passed away before Hogarth gave to the world his next grand series of what he called his “modern moral subjects.” This was “The Marriageà la mode,” which was published in six plates in 1745, and which fully sustained the reputation built upon the “Harlot’s Progress” and the “Rake’s Progress.” Perhaps the best plate of the “Marriageà la mode,” is the fourth—the music scene—in which one principal group of figures especially arrests the attention. It is represented in our cut No. 204. William Hazlitt has justly remarked upon it that, “the preposterous, overstrained admiration of the lady of quality; the sentimental, insipid, patient delight of the man with his hair in papers, and sipping his tea; the pert, smirking, conceited, half-distorted approbation of the figure next to him; the transition to the total insensibility of the round face in profile, and then to the wonder of the negro boy at the rapture of his mistress, form a perfect whole.”
No. 204. Fashionable Society.
No. 204. Fashionable Society.
No. 205. An Old Maid and her Page.
No. 205. An Old Maid and her Page.
No. 206. Loss and Gain.
No. 206. Loss and Gain.
In the interval between these three great monuments of his talent, Hogarth had published various other plates, belonging to much the same class of subjects, and displaying different degrees of excellence. His engraving of “Southwark Fair,” published in 1733, which immediately preceded the “Harlot’s Progress,” may be regarded almost as an attempt to rival the fairs of Gallot. “The Midnight Modern Conversation”appeared in the interval between the “Harlot’s Progress” and the “Rake’s Progress;” and three years after the series last mentioned, in 1738, the engraving, remarkable equally in design and execution, of the “Strolling Actresses in a Barn,” and the four plates of “Morning,” “Noon,” “Evening,” and “Night,” all full of choicest bits of humour. Such is the group of the old maid and her footboy in the first of this series (cut No. 205)—the former stiff and prudish, whose religion is evidently not that of charity; while the latter crawls after, shrinking at the same time under the effects of cold and hunger, which he sustains in consequence of the hard, niggardly temper of his mistress. Among the humorous events which fill the plate of “Noon,” we may point to the disaster of the boy who has been sent to the baker’s to fetch home the family dinner, and who, as represented in our cut No. 206, has broken his pie-dish, and spilt its contents on the ground; and it is difficult to say which is expressed with most fidelity to nature—the terror and shame of the unfortunate lad, or the feeling of enjoyment in the face of the little girl who is feasting on the fragments of the scattered meal. In 1741 appeared the plate of “The Enraged Musician.” During this period Hogarth appears to have been hesitating between two subjects for his third grand pictorial drama. Some unfinished sketches have been found,from which it would seem that, after depicting the miseries of a life of dissipation in either sex, he intended to represent the domestic happiness which resulted from a prudent and well-assorted marriage; but for some reason or other he abandoned this design, and gave the picture of wedlock in a less amiable light, in his “Marriageà la mode.” The title was probably taken from that of Dryden’s comedy. In 1750 appeared “The March to Finchley,” in many respects one of Hogarth’s best works. It is a striking exposure of the want of discipline, and the lowmoraleof the English army under George II. Many amusing groups fill this picture, the scene of which is laid in Tottenham Court Road, along which the guards are supposed to be marching to encamp at Finchley, in consequence of rumours of the approach of the Pretender’s army in the Rebellion of ’45. The soldiers in front are moving on with some degree of order, but in the rear we see nothing but confusion, some reeling about under the effects of liquor, and confounded by the cries of women and children, camp-followers, ballad-singers, plunderers, and the like. One of the latter, as represented in our cut No. 207, is assisting a fallen soldier with an additional dose of liquor, while his pilfering propensities are betrayed by the hen screaming from his wallet, and by the chickens following distractedly the cries of their parent.
No. 207. A brave Soldier.
No. 207. A brave Soldier.
No. 208. A Painter’s Amusements.
No. 208. A Painter’s Amusements.
Hogarth presents a singular example of a satirist who suffered underthe very punishment which he inflicted on others. He made many personal enemies in the course of his labours. He had begun his career with a well-known personal satire, entitled “The Man of Taste,” which was a caricature on Pope, and the poet is said never to have forgiven it. Although the satire in his more celebrated works appears to us general, it told upon his contemporaries personally; for the figures which act their parts in them were so many portraits of individuals who moved in contemporary society, and who were known to everybody, and thus he provoked a host of enemies. It was like Foote’s mimicry. He was to an extraordinary degree vain of his own talent, and jealous of that of others in the same profession; and he spoke in terms of undisguised contempt of almost all artists, past or present. Thus, the painter introduced into the print of “Beer Street,” is said to be a caricature upon John Stephen Liotard, one of the artists mentioned in the last chapter. He thus provoked the hostility of the greatest part of his contemporaries in his own profession, and in the sequel had to support the full weight of their anger. When George II., who had more taste for soldiers than pictures, saw the painting of the “March to Finchley,” instead of admiring it as a work of art, he is said to have expressed himself with anger at the insult which he believed was offered to his army; and Hogarth not only revenged himself by dedicating his print to the king of Prussia, by which it did become a satire on the British army, but he threw himself into the faction of the prince of Wales at Leicester House. The first occasion for the display of all these animosities was given in the year 1753, at the close of which he published his “Analysis of Beauty.” Though far from being himself a successful painter of beauty, Hogarth undertook in this work to investigate its principles, which he referred to a waving or serpentine line, and this he termed the “line of beauty.” In 1745 Hogarth had published his own portrait as the frontispiece to a volume of his collected works, and in one corner of the plate he introduced a painter’s palette, on which was this waving line, inscribed “The line of beauty.” For several years the meaning of this remained either quite a mystery, or was only known to a few of Hogarth’s acquaintances, until the appearance of the book just mentioned. Hogarth’s manuscript wasrevised by his friend, Dr. Morell, the compiler of the “Thesaurus,” whose name became thus associated with the book. This work exposed its author to a host of violent attacks, and to unbounded ridicule, especially from the whole tribe of offended artists. A great number of caricatures upon Hogarth and his line of beauty appeared during the year 1754, which show the bitterness of the hatred he had provoked; and to hold still further their terror over his head, most of them are inscribed with the words, “To be continued.” Among the artists who especially signalised themselves by their zeal against him, was Paul Sandby, to whom we owe some of the best of these anti-Hogarthian caricatures. One of these is entitled, “A New Dunciad, done with a view of [fixing] the fluctuating ideas of taste.” In the principal group (which is given in our cut No. 208), Hogarth is represented playing with apantin, or figure which was moved into activity by pulling a string. The string takes somewhat the form of the line of beauty, which is also drawn upon his palette. This figure is described underneath the picture as “a painterat the proper exercise of his taste.” To his breast is attached a card (the knave of hearts), which is described by a very bad pun as “the fool of arts.” On one side “his genius” is represented in the form of a black harlequin; while behind appears a rather jolly personage (intended, perhaps, for Dr. Morell), who, we are told, is one of his admirers. On the table are the foundations, or the remains, of “a house of cards.” Near him is Hogarth’s favourite dog, named Trump, which always accompanies him in these caricatures. Another caricature which appeared at this time represents Hogarth on the stage as a quack doctor, holding in his hand the line of beauty, and recommending its extraordinary qualities. This print is entitled “A Mountebank Painter demonstrating to his admirers and subscribers that crookedness is yemost beautifull.” Lord Bute, whose patronage at Leicester House Hogarth now enjoyed, is represented fiddling, and the black harlequin serves as “his puff.” In the front a crowd of deformed and hump-backed people are pressing forwards (see our cut No. 209), and the line of beauty fits them all admirably.
No. 209. The Line of Beauty exemplified.
No. 209. The Line of Beauty exemplified.
No. 210. Piracy Exposed.
No. 210. Piracy Exposed.
Much as this famous line of beauty was ridiculed, Hogarth was not allowed to retain the small honour which seemed to arise from it undisputed. It was said that he had stolen the idea from an Italian writer named Lomazzo, Latinised into Lomatius, who had enounced it in atreatise on the Fine Arts, published in the sixteenth century.[102]In another caricature by Paul Sandby, with a vulgar title which I will not repeat, Hogarth is visited, in the midst of his glory, by the ghost of Lomazzo, carrying in one hand his treatise on the arts, and with his other holding up to view the line of beauty itself. In the inscriptions on the plate, the principal figure is described as “An author sinking under the weight of his saturnine analysis;” and, indeed, Hogarth’s terror is broadly painted, while the volume of his analysis is resting heavily upon “a strong support bent in the line of beauty by the mighty load upon it.” Beside Hogarth stands “his faithful pug,” and behind him “a friend of the author endeavouring to prevent his sinking to his natural lowness.” Onthe other side stands Dr. Morell, or, perhaps, Mr. Townley, the master of Merchant Taylors’ School, who continued his service in preparing the book for the press after Morell’s death, described as “the author’s friend and corrector,” astonished at the sight of the ghost. The ugly figure on the left hand of the picture is described as “Deformity weeping at the condition of her darling son,” while the dog is “a greyhound bemoaning his friend’s condition.” This group is represented in our cut No. 210. The other caricatures which appeared at this time were two numerous to allow us to give a particular description of them. The artist is usually represented, under the influence of his line of beauty, painting ugly pictures from deformed models, or attempting historical pictures in a style bordering on caricature, or, on one occasion, as locked up in a mad-house, and allowed only to exercise his skill upon the bare walls. One of these caricatures is entitled, in allusion to the title of one of his most popular prints, “The Painter’s March through Finchley, dedicated to the king of the gipsies, as an encourager of arts, &c” Hogarth appears in full flight through the village, closely pursued by women and children, and animals in great variety, and defended only by his favourite dog.
With the “Marriageà la mode,” Hogarth may be considered as having reached his highest point of excellence. The set of “Industry and Idleness” tells a good and useful moral story, but displays inferior talent in design. “Beer Street” and “Gin Lane” disgust us by their vulgarity, and the “Four Stages of Cruelty” are equally repulsive to our feelings by the unveiled horrors of the scenes which are too coarsely depicted in them. In the four prints of the proceedings at an election, which are the last of his pictures of this description, published in 1754, Hogarth rises again, and approaches in some degree to his former elevation.
In 1757, on the death of his brother-in-law, John Thornhill, the office of sergeant-painter of all his Majesty’s works became vacant, and it was bestowed upon Hogarth, who, according to his own account, received from it an income of about £200 a-year. This appointment caused another display of hostility towards him, and his enemies called him jeeringly the king’s chief panel painter. It was at this moment that a plan for the establishment of an academy of the fine arts was agitated,which, a few years later, came into existence under the title of the Royal Academy, and Hogarth proclaimed so loud an opposition to this project, that the old cry was raised anew, that he was jealous and envious of all his profession, and that he sought to stand alone as superior to them all. It was the signal for a new onslaught of caricatures upon himself and his line of beauty. Hitherto his assailants had been found chiefly among the artists, but the time was now approaching when he was destined to thrust himself into the midst of a political struggle, where the attacks of a new class of enemies carried with them a more bitter sting.
George II. died on the 17th of October, 1760, and his grandson succeeded him to the throne as George III. It appears evident that before this time Hogarth had gained the favour of lord Bute, who, by his interest with the princess of Wales, was all-powerful in the household of the young prince. The painter had hitherto kept tolerably clear of politics in his prints, but now, unluckily for himself, he suddenly rushed into the arena of political caricature. It was generally said that Hogarth’s object was, by displaying his zeal in the cause of his patron, lord Bute, to obtain an increase in his pension; and he acknowledges himself that his object was gain. “This,” he says, “being a period when war abroad and contention at home engrossed every one’s mind, prints were thrown into the background; and the stagnation rendered it necessary that I should do sometimed thing[the italics are Hogarth’s] to recover my lost time, and stop a gap in my income.” Accordingly he determined to attack the great minister, Pitt, who had then recently been compelled to resign his office, and had gone over to the opposition. It is said that John Wilkes, who had previously been Hogarth’s friend, having been privately informed of his design, went to the painter, expostulated with him, and, as he continued obstinate, threatened him with retaliation. In September, 1762, appeared the print entitled “The Times, No. I,” indicating that it was to be followed by a second caricature. The principal features of the picture are these: Europe is represented in flames, which are communicating to Great Britain, but lord Bute, with soldiers and sailors, and the assistance of Highlanders, is labouring to extinguish them, while Pitt is blowing the fire, and the duke of Newcastle brings a barrowful ofMonitorsandNorth Britons, the violent journals of the popular party, to feed it. There is much detail in the print which it is not necessary to describe. In fulfilment of his threat, Wilkes, in the number of theNorth Britonpublished on the Saturday immediately following the publication of this print, attacked Hogarth with extraordinary bitterness, casting cruel reflections upon his domestic as well as his professional character. Hogarth, stung to the quick, retaliated by publishing the well-known caricature of Wilkes. Thereupon Churchill, the poet, Wilkes’s friend, and formerly the friend of Hogarth also, published a bitter invective in verse against the painter, under the title of an “Epistle to William Hogarth.” Hogarth retaliated again: “Having an old plate by me,” he tells us, “with some parts ready, such as a background and a dog, I began to consider how I could turn so much work laid aside to some account, so patched up a print of Master Churchill in the character of a bear.” The unfinished picture was intended to be a portrait of Hogarth himself; the canonical bear, which represented Churchill, held a pot ofporter in one hand, and in the other a knotted club, each knot labelled “lie 1,” “lie 2,” &c The painter, in his “Anecdotes,” exults over the pecuniary profit he derived from the extensive sale of these two prints.
No. 211. An Independent Draughtsman.
No. 211. An Independent Draughtsman.
The virulence of the caricaturists against Hogarth became on this occasion greater than ever. Parodies on his own works, sneers at his personal appearance and manners, reflections upon his character, were all embodied in prints which bore such names as Hogg-ass, Hoggart, O’Garth, &c Our cut No. 211 represents one of the caricature portraits of the artist. It is entitled “Wm. Hogarth, Esq., drawn from the Life.” Hogarth wears the thistle on his hat, as the sign of his dependence on lord Bute. At his breast hangs his palette, with the line of beauty inscribed upon it. He holds behind his back a roll of paper inscribed “Burlesque on L—d B—t.” In his right hand he presents to view two pictures, “The Times,” and the “Portrait of Wilkes.” At the upper corner to the left is the figure of Bute, offering him in a bag a pension of “£300 per ann.” Some of the allusions in this picture are now obscure, but they no doubt relate to anecdotes well known at the time. They receive some light from the following mock letters which are written at the foot of the plate:—
“Copy of a Letter from Mr. Hog-garth to Lord Mucklemon, wthhis Lordship’s Answer.“My Lord,—The enclosed is a design I intend to publish; you are sensible it will not redound to your honour, as it will expose you to all the world in your proper colours. You likewise know what induced me to do this; but it is in yrpower to prevent it from appearing in publick, which I would have you do immediately.“WillmHog-garth.“MaisrHog-garth,—By my saul, mon, I am sare troobled for what I have done; I did na ken yrmuckle merit till noow; say na mair aboot it; I’ll mak au things easy to you, & gie you bock your Pension.“Sawney Mucklemon.”
“Copy of a Letter from Mr. Hog-garth to Lord Mucklemon, wthhis Lordship’s Answer.
“My Lord,—The enclosed is a design I intend to publish; you are sensible it will not redound to your honour, as it will expose you to all the world in your proper colours. You likewise know what induced me to do this; but it is in yrpower to prevent it from appearing in publick, which I would have you do immediately.
“WillmHog-garth.
“MaisrHog-garth,—By my saul, mon, I am sare troobled for what I have done; I did na ken yrmuckle merit till noow; say na mair aboot it; I’ll mak au things easy to you, & gie you bock your Pension.
“Sawney Mucklemon.”
In an etching without a title, published at this time, and copied in our cut No. 212, the Hogarthian dog is represented barking from a cautious distance at the canonical bear, who appears to be meditating further mischief. Pugg stands upon his master’s palette and the line of beauty, while Bruin rests upon the “Epistle to Wm. Hogarth,” with thepen and ink by its side. On the left, behind the dog, is a large frame, with the words “Pannel Painting” inscribed upon it.
No. 212. Beauty and the Bear.
No. 212. Beauty and the Bear.
The article by Wilkes in theNorth Briton, and Churchill’s metrical epistle, irritated Hogarth more than all the hostile caricatures, and were generally believed to have broken his heart. He died on the 26th of October, 1764, little more than a year after the appearance of the attack by Wilkes, and with the taunts of his political as well as his professional enemies still ringing in his ears.
THE LESSER CARICATURISTS OF THE REIGN OF GEORGE III.—PAUL SANDBY.—COLLET; THE DISASTER, AND FATHER PAUL IN HIS CUPS.—JAMES SAYER; HIS CARICATURES IN SUPPORT OF PITT, AND HIS REWARD.—CARLO KHAN’S TRIUMPH.—BUNBURY; HIS CARICATURES ON HORSEMANSHIP.—WOODWARD; GENERAL COMPLAINT.—ROWLANDSON’S INFLUENCE ON THE STYLE OF THOSE WHOSE DESIGNS HE ETCHED.—JOHN KAY OF EDINBURGH: LOOKING A ROCK IN THE FACE.
The school of caricature which had grown amid the political agitation of the reigns of the two first Georges, gave birth to a number of men of greater talent in the same branch of art, who carried it to its highest degree of perfection during that of George III. Among them are the three great names of Gillray, Rowlandson, and Cruikshank, and a few who, though second in rank to these, are still well remembered for the talent displayed in their works, or with the effect they produced on contemporaries. Among these the principal were Paul Sandby, John Collet, Sayer, Bunbury, and Woodward.
Sandby has been spoken of in the last chapter. He was not by profession a caricaturist, but he was one of those rising artists who were offended by the sneering terms in which Hogarth spoke of all artists but himself, and he was foremost among those who turned their satire against him. Examples of his caricatures upon Hogarth have already been given, sufficient to show that they display skill in composition as well as a large amount of wit and humour. After his death, they were republished collectively, under the title, “Retrospective Art, from the Collection of the late Paul Sandby, Esq., R.A.” Sandby was, indeed, one of the original members of the Royal Academy. He was an artistmuch admired in his time, but is now chiefly remembered as a topographical draughtsman. He was a native of Nottingham, where he was born in 1725,[103]and he died on the 7th of November, 1809.[104]
No. 213. A Disaster.
No. 213. A Disaster.
John Collet, who also has been mentioned in a previous chapter, was born in London in 1725, and died there in 1780. Collet is said to have been a pupil of Hogarth, and there is a large amount of Hogarthian character in all his designs. Few artists have been more industrious and produced a greater number of engravings. He worked chiefly for Carrington Bowles, in St. Paul’s Churchyard, and for Robert Sayers, at 53, Fleet Street. His prints published by Bowles were engraved generally inmezzotinto, and highly coloured for sale; while those published by Sayers were usually line engravings, and sometimes remarkably well executed. Collet chose for his field of labour that to which Hogarth had given the title of comedy in art, but he did not possess Hogarth’s power of delineating whole acts and scenes in one picture, and he contented himself with bits of detail and groups of characters only. His caricatures are rarely political—they are aimed at social manners and social vanities and weaknesses, and altogether they form a singularly curious picture of society during an important period of the last century. The first example I give (No. 213) is taken from a line engraving, published by Sayers in 1776. At this time the natural adornments of the person in both sexes had so far yielded to artificial ornament, that even women cut off their own hair in order to replace it by an ornamentalperuque, supporting a head-dress, which varied from time to time in form and in extravagance. Collet has here introduced to us a lady who, encountering a sudden and violent wind, has lost all her upper coverings, and wig, cap, and hat are caught by her footman behind. The lady is evidently suffering under the feeling of shame; and hard by, a cottager and his wife, at their door, are laughing at her discomfiture. A bill fixed against a neighbouring wall announces “A Lecture upon Heads.”
At this time the “no-popery” feeling ran very high. Four years afterwards it broke out violently in the celebrated lord Gordon riots. It was this feeling which contributed greatly to the success of Sheridan’s comedy of “The Duenna,” brought out in 1775. Collet drew several pictures founded upon scenes in this play, one of which is given in our cut No. 214. It forms one of Carington Bowles’s rather numerous series of prints from designs by Collet, and represents the well-known drinking scene in the convent, in the fifth scene of the third act of “The Duenna.” The scene, it will be remembered, is “a room in the priory,” and the excited monks are toasting, among other objects of devotion, the abbess of St. Ursuline and the blue-eyed nun of St. Catherine’s. The “blue-eyed nun” is, perhaps, the lady seen through the window, and the patron saint of her convent is represented in one of the pictures on the wall. There is great spirit in this picture, which is entitled “Father Paul in hisCups, or the Private Devotions of a Convent.” It is accompanied with the following lines:—
See with these friars how religion thrives,Who love good living better than good lives;Paul, the superior father, rules the roast,His god’s the glass, the blue-eyed nun his toast.Thus priests consume what fearful fools bestow,And saints’ donations make the bumpers flow.The butler sleeps—the cellar door is free—This is a modern cloister’s piety.
See with these friars how religion thrives,Who love good living better than good lives;Paul, the superior father, rules the roast,His god’s the glass, the blue-eyed nun his toast.Thus priests consume what fearful fools bestow,And saints’ donations make the bumpers flow.The butler sleeps—the cellar door is free—This is a modern cloister’s piety.
See with these friars how religion thrives,
Who love good living better than good lives;
Paul, the superior father, rules the roast,
His god’s the glass, the blue-eyed nun his toast.
Thus priests consume what fearful fools bestow,
And saints’ donations make the bumpers flow.
The butler sleeps—the cellar door is free—
This is a modern cloister’s piety.
No. 214. Father Paul in his Cups.
No. 214. Father Paul in his Cups.
From Collet to Sayer we rush into the heat—I may say into the bitterness—of politics, for James Sayer is known, with very trifling exceptions, as a political caricaturist. He was the son of a captain of a merchant ship at Great Yarmouth, but was himself put to the profession of an attorney. As, however, he was possessed of a moderate independence, and appears to have had no great taste for the law, he neglected his business, and, with considerable talent for satire and caricature, he threw himself into the political strife of the day. Sayer was a baddraughtsman, and his pictures are produced more by labour than by skill in drawing, but they possess a considerable amount of humour, and were sufficiently severe to obtain popularity at a time when this latter character excused worse drawing even than that of Sayer. He made the acquaintance and gained the favour of the younger William Pitt, when that statesman was aspiring to power, and he began his career as a caricaturist by attacking the Rockingham ministry in 1782—of course in the interest of Pitt. Sayer’s earliest productions which are now known, are a series of caricature portraits of the Rockingham administration, that appear to have been given to the public in instalments, at the several dates of April 6, May 14, June 17, and July 3, 1782, and bear the name of C. Bretherton as publisher. He published his first veritable caricature on the occasion of the ministerial changes which followed the death of lord Rockingham, when lord Shelburne was placed at the head of the cabinet, and Fox and Burke retired, while Pitt became chancellor of the exchequer. This caricature, which bears the title of “Paradise Lost,” and is, in fact, a parody upon Milton, represents the once happy pair, Fox and Burke, turned out of their paradise, the Treasury, the arch of the gate of which is ornamented with the heads of Shelburne, the prime minister, and Dunning and Barré, two of his staunch supporters, who were considered to be especially obnoxious to Fox and Burke. Between these three heads appear the faces of two mocking fiends, and groups of pistols, daggers, and swords. Beneath are inscribed the well-known lines of Milton—
To the eastern sideOf Paradise, so late their happy seat,Waved over by that flaming brand; the gateWith dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms!Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped them soon.The world was all before them, where to chooseTheir place of rest, and providence their guide.They, arm in arm, with wand’ring steps, and slow,Thro’ Eden took their solitary way.
To the eastern sideOf Paradise, so late their happy seat,Waved over by that flaming brand; the gateWith dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms!Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped them soon.The world was all before them, where to chooseTheir place of rest, and providence their guide.They, arm in arm, with wand’ring steps, and slow,Thro’ Eden took their solitary way.
To the eastern side
Of Paradise, so late their happy seat,
Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate
With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms!
Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped them soon.
The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and providence their guide.
They, arm in arm, with wand’ring steps, and slow,
Thro’ Eden took their solitary way.
Nothing can be more lugubrious than the air of the two friends, Fox and Burke, as they walk away, arm in arm, from the gate of the ministerial paradise. From this time Sayer, who adopted all Pitt’s virulence towardsFox, made the latter a continual subject of his satire. Nor did this zeal pass unrewarded, for Pitt, in power, gave the caricaturist the not unlucrative offices of marshal of the court of exchequer, receiver of the sixpenny duties, and cursitor. Sayer was, in fact, Pitt’s caricaturist, and was employed by him in attacking successively the coalition under Fox and North, Fox’s India Bill, and even, at a later period, Warren Hastings on his trial.
No. 215. A Contrast.
No. 215. A Contrast.
I have already remarked that Sayer was almost exclusively a political caricaturist. The exceptions are a few prints on theatrical subjects, in which contemporary actors and actresses are caricatured, and a single subject from fashionable life. A copy of the latter forms our cut No. 215. It has no title in the original, but in a copy in my possession a contemporary has written on the margin in pencil that the lady is Miss Snow and the gentleman Mr. Bird, no doubt well-known personages in contemporary society. It was published on the 19th of July, 1783.
One of Sayer’s most successful caricatures, in regard to the effect itproduced on the public, was that on Fox’s India Bill, published on the 5th of September, 1783. It was entitled “Carlo Khan’s Triumphal Entry into Leadenhall Street,” Carlo Khan being personified by Fox, who is carried in triumph to the door of the India House on the back of an elephant, which presents the face of lord North. Burke, who had been the principal supporter of the bill in debate, appears in the character of the imperial trumpeter, and leads the elephant on its way. On a banner behind Carlo, the old inscription, “The Man of the People,” the title popularly given to Fox, is erased, and the two Greek words,ΒΑΣΙΛΕΥΣ ΒΑΣΙΛΕΩΝ“king of kings,” substituted in its place. From a chimney above, the bird of ill omen croaks forth the doom of the ambitious minister, who, it was pretended, aimed at making himself more powerful than the king himself; and on the side of the house just below we read the words—
The night-crow cried foreboding luckless time.—Shakespeare.
Henry William Bunbury belonged to a more aristocratic class in society than any of the preceding. He was the second son of sir William Bunbury, Bart., of Mildenhall, in the county of Suffolk, and was born in 1750. How he first took so zealously to caricature we have no information, but he began to publish before he was twenty-one years of age. Bunbury’s drawing was bold and often good, but he had little skill in etching, for some of his earlier prints, published in 1771, which he etched himself, are coarsely executed. His designs were afterwards engraved by various persons, and his own style was sometimes modified in this process. His earlier prints were etched and sold by James Bretherton, who has been already mentioned as publishing the works of James Sayer. This Bretherton was in some esteem as an engraver, and he also had a print-shop at 132, New Bond Street, where his engravings were published. James had a son named Charles, who displayed great talent at an early age, but he died young. As early as 1772, when the macaronis (the dandies of the eighteenth century) came into fashion, James Bretherton’s name appears on prints by Bunbury as the engraver and publisher, and it occurs again as the engraver of his print of “Strephon and Chloe” in1801, which was published by Fores. At this and a later period some of his designs were engraved by Rowlandson, who always transferred his own style to the drawings he copied. A remarkable instance of this is furnished by a print of a party of anglers of both sexes in a punt, entitled “Anglers of 1811” (the year of Bunbury’s death). But for the name, “H. Bunbury, del.,” very distinctly inscribed upon it, we should take this to be a genuine design by Rowlandson; and in 1803 Rowlandson engraved some copies of Bunbury’s prints on horsemanship for Ackermann, of the Strand, in which all traces of Bunbury’s style are lost. Bunbury’s style is rather broadly burlesque.
No. 216. How to Travel on Two Legs in a Frost.
No. 216. How to Travel on Two Legs in a Frost.
Bunbury had evidently little taste for political caricature, and he seldom meddled with it. Like Collet, he preferred scenes of social life, and humorous incidents of contemporary manners, fashionable or popular. He had a great taste for caricaturing bad or awkward horsemanship or unmanageable horses, and his prints of such subjects were numerous and greatly admired. This taste for equestrian pieces was shown in prints published in 1772, and several droll series of such subjects appeared at different times, between 1781 and 1791, one of which was long famous under the title of “Geoffrey Gambado’s Horsemanship.”An example of these incidents of horsemanship is copied in our cut No. 216, where a not very skilful rider, with a troublesome horse, is taking advantage of the state of the ground for accelerating locomotion. It is entitled, “How to travel on Two Legs in a Frost,” and is accompanied with the motto, in Latin, “Ostendunt terris hunc tantum fata, neque ultra esse sinent.”
No. 217. Strephon and Chloe.
No. 217. Strephon and Chloe.
Occasionally Bunbury drew in a broader style of caricature, especially in some of his later works. Of our examples of this broader style, the first cut, No. 217, entitled “Strephon and Chloe,” is dated the 1st of July, 1801. It is the very acme of sentimental courtship, expressed in a spirit of drollery which could not easily be excelled. The next group (cut No. 218), from a similar print published on the 21st of July in the same year, is a no less admirable picture of overstrained politeness. It is entitled in the original, “The Salutation Tavern,” probably with a temporary allusion beyond the more apparent design of the picture. Bunbury, as before stated, died in 1811. It is enough to say that sir Joshua Reynolds used to express a high opinion of him as an artist.
No. 218. A Fashionable Salutation.
No. 218. A Fashionable Salutation.
Bunbury’s prints rarely appeared without his name, and, except when they had passed through the engraving of Rowlandson, are easily recognised. No doubt his was considered a popular name, which was almost of as much importance as the print itself. Buta large mass of the caricatures published at the latter end of the last century and the beginning of the present, appeared anonymously, or with imaginary names. Thus a political print, entitled “The Modern Atlas,” bears the inscription “MasrHook fecit;” another entitled “Farmer George delivered,” has that of “Poll Pitt del.” “Everybody delinit,” is inscribed on a caricature entitled “The Lover’s Leap;” and one which appeared under the title of “Veterinary Operations,” is inscribed “Giles Grinagain fect.” Some of these were probably the works of amateurs, for there appear to have been many amateur caricaturists in England at that time. In a caricature entitled “The Scotch Arms,” published by Fores on the 3rd of January, 1787, we find the announcement, “Gentlemen’s designs executed gratis,” which means, of course, that Fores would publish the caricatures of amateurs, if he approved them, without making the said amateurs pay for the engraving. But also some of the best caricaturists of the day published much anonymously, and we know that this was the case to a very great extent with such artists as Cruikshank, Woodward, &c, at all events until such time as their names became sufficiently popular to be a recommendation to the print. It is certain that many of Woodward’s designs were publishedwithout his name. Such was the case with the print of which we give a copy in our cut No. 219, which was published on the 5th of May, 1796, and which bears strongly the marks of Woodward’s style. The spring of this year, 1796, witnessed a general disappointment at the failure of the negociations for peace, and therefore the necessity of new sacrifices for carrying on the war, and of increased taxation. Many clever caricatures appeared on this occasion, of which this by Woodward was one. Of course, when war was inevitable, the question of generals was a very important one, and the caricaturist pretends that the greatest general of the age was “General Complaint.” The general appears here with an empty purse in his right hand, and in his left a handful of papers containing a list of bankrupts, the statement of the budget, &c Four lines beneath, in rather doggrel verse, explain the situation as follows:—
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.
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.
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.
No. 219. General Complaint.
No. 219. General Complaint.
No. 220. Desire.
No. 220. Desire.
There was much of Bunbury’s style in that of Woodward, who had a taste for the same broad caricatures upon society, which he executed in a similar spirit. Some of thesuitesof subjects of this description that he published, such as the series of the “Symptoms of the Shop,” those of “Everybody out of town” and “Everybody in Town,” and the “Specimens of Domestic Phrensy,” are extremely clever and amusing. Woodward’s designs were also not unfrequently engraved by Rowlandson, who, as usual, imprinted his own style upon them. A very good example of this practice is seen in the print of which we give a copy in our cut No. 220. Its title, in the original, is “Desire,” and the passion is exemplified in the case of a hungry schoolboy watching through a window a jolly cook carrying by a tempting plum-pudding. We are told in an inscription underneath: “Various are the ways this passion might be depicted; in this delineation the subjects chosen are simple—a hungry boy and a plum-pudding.” The design of this print is stated to be Woodward’s; but the style is altogether that of Rowlandson, whose name appears on it as the etcher. It was published by R. Ackermann, on the20th of January, 1800. Woodward is well known by his prolific pencil, but we are so little acquainted with the man himself, that I cannot state the date either of his birth or of his death.
No. 221. Looking a Rock in the Face.
No. 221. Looking a Rock in the Face.
There lived at this time in Edinburgh an engraver of some eminence in his way, but whose name is now nearly forgotten, and, in fact, it does not occur in the last edition of Bryan’s “Dictionary of Engravers.” This name was John Kay, which is found attached to prints, of which about four hundred are known, with dates extending from 1784 to 1817. As an engraver, Kay possessed no great talent, but he had considerable humour, and he excelled in catching and delineating the striking points in the features and gait of the individuals who then moved in Edinburgh Society. In fact, a large proportion of his prints consist of caricature portraits, often several figures on the same plate, which is usually of small dimensions.Among them are many of the professors and other distinguished members of the university of Edinburgh. Thus one, copied in our cut No. 221, represents the eminent old geologist, Dr. James Hutton, rather astonished at the shapes which his favourite rocks have suddenly taken. The original print is dated in 1787, ten years before Dr. Hutton’s death. The idea of giving faces to rocks was not new in the time of John Kay, and it has been frequently repeated. Some of these caricature portraits are clever and amusing, and they are at times very satirical. Kay appears to have rarely ventured on caricature of any other description, but there is one rare plate by him, entitled “The Craft in Danger,” which is stated in a few words pencilled on the copy I have before me, to have been aimed at a cabal for proposing Dr. Barclay for a professorship in the university of Edinburgh. It displays no great talent, and is, in fact, now not very intelligible. The figures introduced in it are evidently intended for rather caricatured portraits of members of the university engaged in the cabal, and are in the style of Kay’s other portraits.[105]
GILLRAY.—HIS FIRST ATTEMPTS.—HIS CARICATURES BEGIN WITH THE SHELBURNE MINISTRY.—IMPEACHMENT OF WARREN HASTINGS.—CARICATURES ON THE KING; “NEW WAY TO PAY THE NATIONAL DEBT.”—ALLEGED REASON FOR GILLRAY’S HOSTILITY TO THE KING.—THE KING AND THE APPLE-DUMPLINGS.—GILLRAY’S LATER LABOURS.—HIS IDIOTCY AND DEATH.
In the year 1757 was born the greatest of English caricaturists, and perhaps of all caricaturists of modern times whose works are known—James Gillray. His father, who was named like himself, James, was a Scotchman, a native of Lanark, and a soldier, and, having lost one arm at the battle of Fontenoy, became an out-pensioner of Chelsea Hospital. He obtained also the appointment of sexton at the Moravian burial-ground at Chelsea, which he held forty years, and it was at Chelsea that James Gillray the younger was born. The latter, having no doubt shown signs of artistic talent, was put apprentice to letter-engraving; but after a time, becoming disgusted with this employment, he ran away, and joined a party of strolling players, and in their company passed through many adventures, and underwent many hardships. He returned, however to London, and received some encouragement as a promising artist, and obtained admission as a student in the Royal Academy—the then young institution to which Hogarth had been opposed. Gillray soon became known as a designer and engraver, and worked in these capacities for the publishers. Among his earlier productions, two illustrations of Goldsmith’s “Deserted Village” are spoken of with praise, as displaying a remarkable freedom of effect. For a long time after Gillray became known as a caricaturist he continued to engrave the designs of other artists. The earliest known caricature which can be ascribed to him with any certainty, is the plate entitled “Paddy on Horseback,” and dated in 1779, when he was twenty-two years of age. The “horse” on which Paddy rides is a bull; he isseated with his face turned to the tail. The subject of satire is supposed to be the character then enjoyed by the Irish as fortune-hunters. The point, however, is not very apparent, and indeed Gillray’s earliest caricatures are tame, although it is remarkable how rapidly he improved, and how soon he arrived at excellence. Two caricatures, published in June and July, 1782, on the occasion of admiral Rodney’s victory, are looked upon as marking his first decided appearance in politics.
A distinguishing characteristic of Gillray’s style is, the wonderful tact with which he seizes upon the points in his subject open to ridicule, and the force with which he brings those points out. In the fineness of his design, and in his grouping and drawing, he excels all the other caricaturists. He was, indeed, born with all the talents of a great historical painter, and, but for circumstances, he probably would have shone in that branch of art. This excellence will be the more appreciated when it is understood that he drew his picture with the needle on the plate, without having made any previous sketch of it, except sometimes a few hasty outlines of individual portraits or characters scrawled on cards or scraps of paper as they struck him.
Soon after the two caricatures on Rodney’s naval victory, the Rockingham administration was broken up by the death of its chief, and another was formed under the direction of Lord Shelburne, from which Fox and Burke retired, leaving in it their old colleague, Pitt, who now deserted the Whig party in parliament. Fox and Burke became from this moment the butt of all sorts of abuse and scornful satire from the caricaturists, such as Sayer, and newspaper writers in the pay of their opponents; and Gillray, perhaps because it offered at that moment the best chance of popularity and success, joined in the crusade against the two ex-ministers and their friends. In one of his caricatures, which is a parody upon Milton, Fox is represented in the character of Satan, turning his back upon the ministerial Paradise, but looking enviously over his shoulder at the happy pair (Shelburne and Pitt) who are counting their money on the treasury table:—