THE CARICATURE MAGAZINE OR MIRROR OF MIRTHBEING A COLLECTION OF HUMOROUS AND SATIRICAL CARICATURESDESIGNED AND ENGRAVEDByTHOMAS ROWLANDSON,Esq.LONDONPUBLISHED BY THOMAS TEGG111 CHEAPSIDE
The Beauties of Tom Brown, embellished with engravings by Rowlandson, one vol.
1808.Chesterfield Travestie, or School for Modern Manners, embellished with ten caricatures. Engraved by Rowlandson from original drawings by Woodward. Published by Thomas Tegg, 111 Cheapside, 1808. Republished under the title ofChesterfield Burlesque, 1811.
Mottoes.
The better sort should have before 'emA grace, a manner, a decorum.—Butler.O tempora! O mores!—Juvenal.The times are out of joint, O cursed spite,That ever I was born to set them right.-Shakespeare.
The better sort should have before 'emA grace, a manner, a decorum.—Butler.O tempora! O mores!—Juvenal.The times are out of joint, O cursed spite,That ever I was born to set them right.-Shakespeare.
The better sort should have before 'emA grace, a manner, a decorum.—Butler.
O tempora! O mores!—Juvenal.
The times are out of joint, O cursed spite,That ever I was born to set them right.-Shakespeare.
'I will allow you twelve shillings a week to be my amanuensis!—What do you think of that?'
How to look over your husband's hand while at cards, and find fault with him for losing.
The Nobleman and the little Shopkeeper.
Chesterfield Travestie, or School for Modern Manners.
1.How to keep up a conversation with yourself in the public streets.—An absent-minded orator (passing the Forum Debating Society), is rehearsing, with lavish declamatory action, his peroration to the amazement and alarm of the passers-by.
2.Notoriety.—A buck in aJean-de-Brie.Singularity.—An antiquarian oddity in the costume of three-quarters of a century earlier than the fashion prevailing at the date of the drawing.Whimsical.—A dwarf of a woman wearing a cloak down to her toes, and peaked poke head-dress.
3.The Art of Quizzing.—Three dandies are promenading arm-in-arm, and unceremoniously criticising aloud a fine and pretty woman, who is walking with a 'squab-old-put':'D——dfine woman, pon honour, but what a quiz of a fellow she has taken in tow there!'
August 25, 1808.Behaviour at Table.Woodward del., Rowlandson sc. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.—The author offers four excellent directions touching the genteel 'behaviour expected at table,' and if his injunctions were strictly carried out, there is no question that his pupils would be accepted in every society as remarkably polished and well-bred young gentlemen, who had studied Lord Chesterfield's 'advice' to some purpose; perfect ornaments, indeed, to any company amongst which they might find themselves, and desirable patterns for imitation.
BEHAVIOUR AT TABLE.
BEHAVIOUR AT TABLE.
1808.A Lecture on Heads, by G. A. Stevens,[9]with additions as deliveredby Mr. Charles Lee Lewis, embellished with twenty-five humorous characteristic prints, from drawings by George Moutard Woodward Esq. Engraved by Thomas Rowlandson. Published by T. Tegg.
Frontispiece: Interior of Covent Garden Theatre. C. Lee Lewis delivering 'A Lecture on Heads' to a crowded audience.
1808.British Sailor.Frenchman.Spaniard.Dutchman.Four characters on a sheet, published by T. Tegg.—The same etchings are given, under similar descriptions, in the 'Lecture on Heads,' by G. A. Stevens, with illustrations by G. M. Woodward, engraved by T. Rowlandson.
December 1, 1808.Miseries of Human Life(Plates issued in previous years and collected in 1808). Designed and etched by T. Rowlandson, and published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—Frontispiece: The title in a frame; below it a gouty old miser, wrapped in flannel, is being dragged off in his chair by Death, in spite of his crutch and his struggles to get back to his riches, spread in the strong box, over which he has lost all control; his heirs in the meantime are helping themselves, making light of his hoarded savings, and taunting the impotent money-grubber, who has accumulated riches for them to fling away.
Miseries of Human Life.—Introductory dialogue: 'Sickness befriends temperance by the simplicity of diet which it introduces; it wards off the varied injuries of the open air by requiring the party to inhale a thousand times over, the cherishing, equable, and safely treasured atmosphere of a chamber.'
The picture treats all these fanciful advantages from a burlesque point of view: a sufferer is on his pallet surrounded by all the inconveniences of washing, cooking, and other domestic arrangements, limited toone apartment, to serve him as 'kitchen, parlour, and bed-room, and all.'
Miseries of the Country.—Following on horseback a slow cart, through an endless narrow lane, at sunset, when you are already too late, and want all the help of your own eyes, as well as your horse's feet to carry you safe through the rest of your unknown way.
More Miseries.—'Being overpersuaded to stand up in a country dance, when you know, or, what is equally bad, conceive that a bear would eclipse you in grace and agility.' (April 1, 1807.)
Fabricious's Description of the Poets.Vide 'Gil Blas.'—'People think that we often dine with Democritus, and there they are mistaken. There is not one of my fraternity, not even excepting the makers of Almanacs, who is not welcome to some good table. As for my own part, there are two families where I am received with pleasure. I have two covers laid for me every day, one at the house of a fat director of the farms, to whom I have dedicated a romance, and the other at the house of a rich citizen, who has the disease of being thought to entertain wits every day at his table; luckily he is not very delicate in his choice, and the city furnishes him with great plenty.' (1807.)
Miseries of Human Life.—Struggling through the curse of trying to disentangle your hair, when by poking curiously about on board of ship it has become clammed and matted with pitch or tar, far beyond all the powers of the comb. (1807.)
More Miseries.—Having so flaccid a cheek that the parish barber, who shaves you, is obliged to introduce his thumb into your mouth to give it a proper projection, cutting his thumb in this position with the razor. (1807.)
Miseries of Social Life.—Escorting four or five country cousins, on their first importation into London from theTerra Incognitaof England, to the lions, the waxworks, the monuments, &c. &c.
Miseries Miscellaneous.—Stepping out of a boat at low water on a slippery causeway, upon a stone which slides under you, and you descend in the mud up to the chin. (1807.)
A Stag at Bay, or Conjugal Felicity.A Romance.—A matrimonial dispute; the wife is attacking her spouse incontinently, and he is protecting himself, and keeping the aggressor at arm's length with a dirty mop.
The Shaver and the Shavee.H. Bunbury del., Rowlandson sc.
Showing off.—A pair of horsemen are endeavouring to put on a sportsmanlike appearance, which is somewhat disturbed by the restiveness of their steeds; one rider is slipping off, and the other, while his horse is going down on his knees in a reverential posture, is flung over the animal's head.
The Production of a Post-House.—The stable-door of a post-house is opened, and a sorry broken-kneed ramshackle horse is trotted out, to the amusement of the people standing about, and to the horror of a gentleman who has evidently come for a mount.
Symptoms of Choking.—A corpulent individual has suddenly left the dinner-table, under an impulse to choke; the rest of the company are thrown into such alarm at his critical situation, that the table-cloth, soup-turreens, wine, decanters, plates, glasses, and all the service are dragged on to the floor in universal destruction. (1806.)
The Enraged Vicar.—A smaller version of this subject (seeMarch 1, 1807).
To see them rattle, howl, and tear,By Jove, 'twould make a parson swear.
To see them rattle, howl, and tear,By Jove, 'twould make a parson swear.
To see them rattle, howl, and tear,By Jove, 'twould make a parson swear.
Symptoms of Restiveness.—The restiveness referred to appears to be nothing more than a tendency to rest in one spot; a sailor, probably at Portsmouth, from the view of the sea and shipping, is mounted on a steed which he is vainly belabouring with a cudgel, while an old hag is banging away at the poor brute with a long and heavy broom, to the delight of a convivial party, assembled to drink outside a public-house, within view of the dilemma. (1808.)
Pall Mall.
O bear me to the paths of fair Pall Mall,Safe are thy pavements, grateful is thy smell;At distance rolls along the gilded coach,Nor sturdy carmen on thy walks encroach. (1807.)
O bear me to the paths of fair Pall Mall,Safe are thy pavements, grateful is thy smell;At distance rolls along the gilded coach,Nor sturdy carmen on thy walks encroach. (1807.)
O bear me to the paths of fair Pall Mall,Safe are thy pavements, grateful is thy smell;At distance rolls along the gilded coach,Nor sturdy carmen on thy walks encroach. (1807.)
Miseries of Public Places.—After the play, on a raw, wet night, with a party of ladies, fretting and freezing in the outer lobbies and at the street-doors of the theatre, among chairmen, barrow-women, yelling linkboys, and other human refuse, in endless attempts to find out your servant or carriage, which, when found out at last, cannot be drawn up nearer than a furlong from the door. (January 1, 1807.)
Miseries Miscellaneous.—The necessity of sending a verbal message of the utmost consequence by an ass, who, you plainly perceive, will forget (or rather has already forgotten) every word you have been saying. (January 1, 1807.)
Miseries of Reading and Writing.—As you are writing drowsily by the fire, on rousing and recollecting yourself, find your guardian in possession of your secret thoughts, which he never ceases to upbraid you with. (January 1, 1807.)
Miseries Personal.—When in the gout receiving the ruinous salutation of a muscular friend (a sea captain), who, seizing your hand in the first transports of a sudden meeting, affectionately crumbles your chalky knuckles with the gripe of a grasping-iron, and then further confirms his regard for you by greeting your tenderest toe with the stamp of a charger. (January 1, 1807.)
Miseries of the Country.—While you are out with a walking party, after heavy rains, one shoe suddenly sucked off by the boggy clay, and then, in making a long and desperate stretch (which fails), with the hope of recovering it, the other is left in the same predicament. The second stage of ruin is that of standing, or rather tottering in blank despair, with both bare feet planted ankle-deep in the quagmire. (January 1, 1806.)
Miseries of London.—Chasing your hat (just blown off in a high wind) through a muddy street—a fresh gust always whisking it away at the moment of seizing it; when you have at last caught it deliberately putting it on, with all its sins upon your head, amidst the jeers of the populace. (January 1, 1807.)
Miseries of Travelling.'O Miserabile mihi.' Published by T. Rowlandson, Adelphi.—A restive horse in a gig backing into the windows of a potter's shop; alarmed at the terrific crash, you become panic-struck, with the perspiration starting from every pore. (April 12, 1807.)
Miseries of Travelling.—Being mounted on a beast who, as soon as you have watered him on the road, proceeds very coolly to repose himself in the middle of the pond, without taking you at all into his counsel or paying the slightest attention to your remonstrances. (1807.)
Miseries of Social Life.—Sitting for hours before a smoky chimney, like a Hottentot in a kraal; then, just as your sufferings seem at last to be at an end, puff, puff, whiff, whiff, again, far more furious than ever. Add to this a scolding wife. (January 1, 1807.)
Miseries of Social Life.—Walking in a wind that cuts to the bone, with a narrating companion, whose mind and body cannot move at the same time; or, in other words, who, as he gets on with his stories, thinks it necessary, at every other sentence, to stand stock-still, face about, and make you do the same; then, totally regardless of your shivering impatience to push on, refuses to stir an inch till the whole of his endless thread is fairly wound out. 'Dixit et adversi stetit ora.' (1807.)
Miseries of the Country.—Losing your way on foot at night in a storm of wind and rain, and this immediately after leaving a merry fireside. (1806.)
More Miseries.—Being nervous and cross-examined by Mr. Garrow (in a Law Court). (April 1, 1807.)
More Miseries.—Endeavouring to make violent love under the table and pressing the wrong foot. (April 1, 1807.)
More Miseries.—Sitting on a chair which a servant has fractured and put together the preceding morning, and upon attempting to lean back falling to the ground before a large party; a country servant bursting into a roar of laughter. (April 1, 1807.)
More Miseries.—Being obliged to kiss a remarkably plain woman at forfeits, when you engaged in the pastime only with the hope of being able to salute a lovely young lady, to whom you are particularly attached. (April 1, 1807.)
Miseries of Travelling.—Starting for a long ride, on a dinner engagement, without a great-coat, in a mist, a mizzle, a drizzle, a rain, a torrent. On arriving at the house at last, completely drenched, you have to beg the favour of making yourself look like a full or empty sack, by wearing your host's clothes, he being either a dwarf or a giant, and you the contrary. (January 1, 1807.)
Miseries of Games, Sports, &c.—In skating, slipping in such a manner that your legs start off in this unaccommodating posture; from which, however, you are soon relieved by tumbling forwards on your nose, or backwards on your skull. Also learning to cut the outside edge on skates that have no edge to cut with—ice very rugged. (January 1, 1807.)
More Miseries.—In the country, going to a party to dinner, getting very tipsy, quitting the house in a dark night, and getting upon your horse with your face towards the tail, and wondering during the few minutes that you are able to keep your seat, amidst the jeers of your companions, what freak can have entered the brain of the beast to go backwards. (April 1, 1807.)
Miseries of the Table.—Inviting a friend, whom you know to be particularlyfond of the dish, to partake of a fine hare, haunch, &c., which you have endeavoured to keep exactly to the critical moment, but which is no sooner brought in than the whole party, with one nose, order it to be taken out. (1807.)
More Miseries.—At an inn, going into a bed too short, with a wooden leg, which you were too fatigued to unstrap, drawing up the living one, going to sleep with the other sticking out at the bottom, which, when the chambermaid comes in for the candle, she conceives to be the handle of the warming-pan, which she has carelessly left in the bed. (April 1, 1807.)
More Miseries.—Sending a challenge, requesting a timid friend to attend you to the field, who, you think, will not fail to acquaint the magistrate of it; going with honour to the appointed spot, anxiously looking back at every step to see if the Bow Street officers are coming, without seeing a soul but your antagonist and the seconds. (April 1, 1807.)
Miseries Domestic.—Squatting plump on an unsuspected cat in your chair. (January 1, 1807.)
More Miseries.—Being persuaded to put your finger into the cage of a parrot and to rub its poll, upon an assurance, from its doating mistress, that it is the most gentle bird in the universe, suddenly feeling the sanguinary effects of its beak. (April 1, 1807.)
More Miseries.—Having a newly-rolled gravel walk, finding some friends whom you had asked to dine with you amusing themselves before dinner by drawing each other in your child's chaise, which disastrously stood at the bottom of the garden, within sight; seeing the narrow wheels cut up the walk most unmercifully, and being deterred by a false notion of politeness from giving them a hint to desist. (April 1, 1807.)
Cold Broth and Calamity.—A smaller edition of this subject, the disasters of various parties on the ice, but treated with perfect originality as regards the various incidents.
Miseries Domestic.—Waking in the middle of the night in a state of raging thirst, eagerly blundering to the washing-stand, and there finding the broad-mouthed pitcher, which you lift to your lips, so full that, besides amply satisfying your thirst, it keeps cooling your heated body, and purifying your linen with the overplus. (1806.)
Miseries of the Country.Published by T. Rowlandson, Adelphi.—Passing the worst part of a rainy winter in a country so inveterately miry as to imprison you within your own premises; so that by way of exercise, and to keep yourself alive, you take to rolling your gravel walks (though already quite smooth), cutting wood (though you have more logs than enough), working the dumb-bells, or such other irrational exercise. (April 12, 1807.)
Miseries of the Country.—While deeply, delightfully, and, as you hope,safely engaged at home in the morning, after peremptory orders of denial to all comers whomsoever, to be suddenly surprised, through the treachery or folly of your servant, by an inroad from a party of the starched, stupid, cold, idle natives of a country town, who lay a formal siege (by sap) to your leisure. (1807.)
Miseries of London.—Being a compulsory spectator and auditor of a brawling and scratching match between two drunken drabs, in consequence of the sudden influx of company, by whom you are hemmed in a hundred yards deep in every direction, leaving you no chance of escape till the difference of sentiment between the ladies is adjusted. Where you stand you are (that is, I was) closely bounded in front by a barrow of cat's meat, the unutterable contents of which employ your eyes and nose, while your ear is no less fully engaged by the Tartarean yell of its driver. (1807.)
Miseries of Travelling.—On packing up your clothes for a journey, because your servant is a fool, the burning fever into which you are thrown when, after all your standing, stamping, kneeling, tugging, and kicking, the lid of your trunk refuses to approach within a yard of the lock. (1807.)
More Miseries.Published by R. Ackermann.—Being pinned up to a door, round the neck, by the horns of an enraged overdriven ox. (April 1, 1807.)
Miseries of the Country.—While on a visit in the Hundred of Essex being under the necessity of getting dead-drunk every day to save your life. (See 1807,p. 78.)
Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas....
Miseries of Social Life.—Dining and passing the whole evening with a party of fox-hunters, after they have had what they call 'glorious sport;' and, while you execrate the very name of a hound, being gorged with thecrambe recoctaof one chase after another, till you wish the country was underground. (January 1, 1807.)
THE MICROCOSM OF LONDON,
OR
LONDON IN MINIATURE.
With Illustrations by Pugin and Rowlandson.
Published by R. Ackermann, Repository of Arts, 101 Strand.
With reference to the illustrations, which form the principal feature of this work, we borrow a paragraph from the'Introduction':—
'The great objection that men fond of the fine arts have hitherto made to engravings on architectural subjects has been that the buildings and figures have almost invariably been designed by the same artists. In consequence of this the figures have been generally neglected, or are of a very inferior cast, and totally unconnected with the other part of the print; so that we may sometimes see men and women in English dresses delineated in an English view of an Italian palace, and Spanish grandees in long cloaks and ladies in veils seated in one of our own cathedrals.
The dress, we know, is neither new nor rare;But how the powers came it there?
The dress, we know, is neither new nor rare;But how the powers came it there?
The dress, we know, is neither new nor rare;But how the powers came it there?
'To remove these glaring incongruities from the publication, a strict attention has been paid, not only to the country of the figures introduced in the different buildings, but to the general air and peculiar carriage, habits, &c., of such characters as are likely to make up the majority in particular places.
'The architectural part of the subjects that are contained in this work will be delineated, with the utmost precision and care, by Mr. Pugin, whose uncommon accuracy and elegant taste have been displayed in former productions. With respect to the figures, they are from the pencil of Mr. Rowlandson, with whose professional talents the public are already so well acquainted that it is not necessary to expatiate on them here. As the following list comprises almost every variety of character that is found in this great metropolis, there will be ample scope for the exertion of his abilities; and it will be found that his powers are not confined to the ludicrous, but that he can vary with his subject, and, wherever it is necessary, descend
From grave to gay, from lively to severe.'
From grave to gay, from lively to severe.'
From grave to gay, from lively to severe.'
Rowlandson and Pugin del. et sc.
1808 and 1809.An Essay on the Art of Ingeniously Tormenting.Illustrated with five prints. From designs by G. M. Woodward, Esq. (author of 'Eccentric Excursions'). Rowlandson, sc. 12mo. London. Printed for Thomas Tegg.
I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen;More clamorous than a parrot against rain;More new-fangled than an ape;And more giddy in my desires than a monkey.—Shakespeare.
I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen;More clamorous than a parrot against rain;More new-fangled than an ape;And more giddy in my desires than a monkey.—Shakespeare.
I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen;More clamorous than a parrot against rain;More new-fangled than an ape;And more giddy in my desires than a monkey.—Shakespeare.
Folding frontispiece.—A Savoyard with a barrel-organ and a troupe of dancing dogs; a Frenchman with a dancing bear; a showman dragging about a dromedary, with a monkey perched on its hump, and pulling the animal's ears. A bird made to fire off a gun, in the rear of a half-starved individual who is lost in hungry longing outside the window of an eating-house; while the proprietor is taunting the famished gazer with a huge round of beef. A cat is torturing a mouse. A woman is eavesdropping. Another cat is getting a bird out of a cage. A woman is emptying a vessel over the heads of a crowd gathered round a tussle. A cat is launched in the air on bladders. A pair of ruffians are racing on donkeys, and flogging the beasts unmercifully. All these episodes set forth various phases of the fine art of Tormenting.
1. A old vixen is tormenting a pretty maid, who is in tears: 'Don't cry, child. You cannot help being handsome; but I assure you I have often wept from my dreadful apprehensions for you, lest you should come to walk London streets!'
2. A family scene.
Train up a child in the way it should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.
Solomon.
Two children have strung up a pair of kittens by their tails; the tabbies are clawing one another in the air. Two boys have tied a saucepan to the tail of a frightened dog, and a little girl is singeing a cat's whiskers with a brand from the fire. The father is smoking his pipe and declaring, 'Dear little innocents, how prettily they amuse themselves!' while the mother is made to say, 'I love to see children employed!'
3. A husband, with literary tastes, is vainly trying to interest his lady in his reading: 'Now, my dear, now for the passage; I am sure it will delight you. Shakespeare, "Tempest," act the fifth. "The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces——"' The wife is bouncing up to the bell, although there is a blazing fire, interrupting the reading with, 'I wonder the girl don't bring the coals, one might as well sit in an ice house, but I was born to be tormented!'
4. An old curmudgeon is seated in his armchair, a decanter of wine before him, with a chart of the gold mines of Peru and Mexico at his back; a young gentleman, who has been unfortunate, is standing before him in an attitude of despondency, little encouraged by the friendly advice of the hunks whose assistance he has vainly implored: 'Ah, my young friend, I told you what it would all come to, but you have brought it all on yourself. I'll not ask you to sit down, because you seem in a hurry; however, I'll give you my advice: as you say you are not worth a guinea, I'd advise you to quit London, and purchase a small estate in the country!'
The Discovery.Etched by Rowlandson, 1798. Republished, Jan. 1808–9.
January 15, 1809.The Head of the Family in Good Humour.Published by Tegg, Woodward del., Rowlandson sc.—John Bull, a very giant among a race of pigmies, is surrounded by the heads of the different states, who are all hurling out threats against his chances of peace. Napoleon is thundering forShips, Colonies, and Commerce. The Muscovite is denouncing: 'Russian vengeance attend John Bull.' Holland is blustering: 'I'll eternally smoke him.' Tom Paine is offering this warning: 'Let him tremble at the name of America.' The other potentates are following up these threats with valedictions of their own: 'Beware of Prussia;' 'Austria will never pardon him;' 'Spanish fury overtake him;' and 'Let him beware of Denmark.' John Bull is smiling good-naturedly at all these empty vapourings: 'Don't make such a riot, you little noisy brats, all your bustle to me is no more than a storm in a teacup!'
January 15, 1809.The Old Woman's Complaint, or the Greek Alphabet.Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.—An old country dame has called upon a pedagogue, with a fanciful grievance, to make respectful complaints against the dominie's scholars, who, cap in hand, and satchel on back, are making their entrance into the learned presence, behind their accuser. The schoolmaster, who wears a red night-cap, and slippers, is made to say: 'Good woman, you are always making complaints against my scholars; what have they done to offend you now?' 'Please your honour's worship, they followed me up and down, and said one to another,at her, beat her, damn her, pelt her!and a great deal more that I do not recollect.' The young pupils are explaining the old lady's misconception: 'Indeed, sir, we were only repeating our Greek alphabet, in order to get it quite perfect; what the old woman heard was onlyAlpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and so on to the conclusion!'
February 1, 1809.A Traveller refreshed in a Stagnant Pool, after the Fatigues of a Dusty Day's Journey.Published by R. Ackermann, Strand.
February 1, 1809.Mrs. Bundle in a Rage; or too late for the Stage.Published by R. Ackermann, Strand.
February 1, 1809.Launching a Frigate.Newton del., Rowlandson fecit.Published by T. Tegg, 67 Cheapside.—A trim nymph, very fashionably dressed, is starting on her travels from an hotel, situated, as we recognise, from the notice on the wall, near Portsmouth Dock. The figure of the promenader is drawn with care, and is perfectly in Rowlandson's most telling manner; behind the curled, feathered, and blooming damsel, is an ancient and colossal harridan, bedizened with showy finery, who is supposed to have launched the fair charmer. Characteristic glimpses of Portsmouth are given in the background of the picture.
March 20, 1809.A Mad Dog in a Coffee House.Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.—The advent of a nondescript animal, supposititiously assumed to be a ferocious mad dog, has produced the utmost terror and confusion amongst the grave frequenters of a mercantile coffee-house, somewhat after the model ofGarraway's. All the city brokers, and pillars of 'change found therein, are scared out of their sober senses; some, like the little Jew in the corner, are paralysed with fear; others are trying to creep under the tables; a few are seeking escape by the door, which they are effectually blocking; and groups of affrighted fugitives are endeavouring to gain the refuge of the staircase. A select knot have made for the bar, and are flinging themselvespell-mellover the counter; the chimney, and similar places of refuge, are eagerly sought; tables are mounted; comfortable citizens are thrown on their backs, like turtles, and trodden on, while the pressure of viler bodies above is expressing a stream of specie from the well-filled pockets of the overthrown. A cat, her tail swollen to abnormal proportions, is making a frantic rush into the midst of the cowering poltroons under the table. Rowlandson generally manages to introduce certain advertisements appropriate to his subjects, and a notice stuck on the wall of the coffee-house conveys the following piece of shipping intelligence:For the Brazils, 'The Cerberus,' Captain Pointer. Burden 300 tons. Laying off Barking Creek. Enquire of Benjamin Bell, Barge Yard, Broker.
A MAD DOG IN A COFFEE HOUSE.
A MAD DOG IN A COFFEE HOUSE.
1809.Disappointed Epicures.Another version ofA Mad Dog in a Dining-room.—In this case the dog has run between the legs of a man bringing in a dish of cutlets, which bestrew the carpet; his downfall has in turn overset another retainer, whose soup tureen has come to grief; the butler, more engaged in watching the calamities of his fellows, has allowed the 'spruce beer' to escape in a shower of froth all over the place. The scene is well worked out; over the door of the dining-room is a picture representing a party of corpulent friars seated round a refectory board. The faces of the party—it is a bachelor-dinner in this instance—express more annoyance than alarm; they are dejected at the prospect of a curtailed repast.
1809.A Mad Dog in a Dining-room, or Disappointed Epicures.—This print, which has never before been engraved in its present form, is a literal reproduction of the original study; one of the collection of drawings by Rowlandsonin the possession of the present writer. The picture tells its own story so graphically,that it is unnecessary to attempt any fuller elucidation of the subject.
A MAD DOG IN A DINING-ROOM.
A MAD DOG IN A DINING-ROOM.
April 21, 1809.The Comforts of Matrimony. A Good Toast.Published by Reeve and Jones.—The picture represents a scene of domestic felicity of the most touching completeness. The husband is browning a muffin for tea; his wife's arm is wound round his neck during this delicate operation; his children are enjoying their peaceful meal; an infant is tranquilly slumbering in the cradle; and a cat, surrounded by her family of kittens, carries out the unity of the subject. Another of the series partly published in 1808, in which a rude facsimile of the original drawings has been attempted, without much success.
The Tables Turned. Miseries of Wedlock.A pendant to the preceding.—The domestic horizon is clouded by storms. The late happy pair are only kept from demolishing each other by the table placed between them, which is being wrecked in the struggle. The wife, in a fury, is holding on to her husband's hair with all her force, while he has a firm grasp of his unfortunate spouse's head, at which he is aiming a pewter-pot; children, chairs, crockery, cutlery, and food, are alike devoted to destruction; the infants are frantic, and general misery prevails. The execution of these subjects is commonplace, and the engraver has not done justice to the originals.
April 29, 1809.Oh! you're a Devil. Get along, do!Published by Reeve and Jones, 7 Vere Street, New Bond Street.—A dashing young officer, a gallant adventurer, probably crippled with debts, and with nothing but his commission to support his extravagances, is laying ardent siege to the ordinary person of a rich dowager, fat,notfair, and decidedly forty; indeed, the lady is more than old enough to be the mother of her insidious admirer, who is probably looking forward to the possession of the foolish inamorata's fortune to 'whitewash' his liabilities, and exchange him from one slavery to another; preferring the fetters of Hymen to the captivity of a debtor's prison. The lady, a vain piece of antiquated and frivolous vulgarity, is loaded with massive jewellery, which her hopeful lover no doubt looks forward to melting for his own purposes, after he has staked the relict's money-bags on the gambling-table; her feathers are profuse, and she wears a boa of an extinct kind, famous in the annals of contemporary fashions, known as arattle-snake.[10]
June 20, 1809.A Tit-bit for a Strong Stomach.
July 31, 1809.The Huntsman Rising.The Gamester going to bed.Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi. (See1811.)
1809.Rowlandson's Caricatures upon the Delicate Investigation, or the Clarke Scandal(Mrs. Mary Anne Clarke and the Duke of York).—In order to make the caricatures, published by Rowlandson, on the Clarke scandal intelligible, it is desirable to recapitulate the circumstances, which are given in condensed form from the writer's 'Life of James Gillray the Caricaturist.'[11]