March 30, 1810. The Winding up of the Medical Report of the Walcheren Expedition.—The members of the Medical Board are standing in the stocks; on the green, in front of the sign of The Goose, which is surrounded with stores for the Walcheren Expedition, are laid the bodies of various sufferers, 'sent home for inspection.' The nature of the stores is somewhat exceptional. A case of champagne, marked 'Chelsea Hospital,' innumerable barrels of port and claret, marked 'T.K., for the hospital and for home consumption.' Barrels of porter, bales of cobwebs, and oak bark, 'charms for the cure of agues,' tincture of arsenic, and bottles of gin.

April 12, 1810. Libel Hunters on the Look-out, or Daily Examiners of the Liberty of the Press. Published by T. Tegg (4).—A committee of the Rotten Borough Society, established in 1810 (Gibery Vixe, president; Leatherbreech, vice), is met to consider the licence of the press, to bring all their faculties to bear for the detection of any lurking evidences of libel or treason. The President is reading aloud, with the assistance of a magnifying glass to enlarge any suspicious paragraphs; the members of the committee are all on the qui vive to note any libellous allusions. Cobbett's Register is under examination, Magna Charta is trodden under foot, and the Bill of Rights is thrown on one side. From the papers pasted as memoranda on the wall we are informed that 'Sir Francis Burdett is committed to the Tower;' that 'The Morning Chronicle knows no bounds and must be checked;' that 'Enquiries into the expedition to Walcheren be voted treasonable;' 'That the Statesman must beware,' and 'A watchful eye be kept on the Examiner;' A 'Black list of those who vote in the minority,' &c.; 'A view of the Tower,' and 'Instructions to the Keeper of Newgate,' are among the notices put up for attention.

April 20, 1810. A New Tap Wanted. Published by T. Tegg.

April 26, 1810. The Boroughmongers Strangled in the Tower. Tegg's caricatures (8).—Sir Francis Burdett, while confined within the Tower, is signalising his prowess by the slaughter of a brace of the 'Caterpillars of the State;' like the infant Hercules, he is taking the dealers in corruption by the neck and throttling them. One of the beefeaters is enjoying the spectacle, crying, 'Bless him, I say; he's a rum un.' Over the portcullis of the Tower gate is an escutcheon representing the 'British Lion roused.' On one side of the postern is an apposite quotation from Shakespeare:—

An extract from the Liberal Baronet's own speech is posted on the other side:—

From this foul and traitorous traffic our Boroughmonger Sovereigns derive an immense revenue, cruelly wrung from the hard hand of honest labour. I do, however, now entertain an ardent hope that this degraded and degrading system, to which all our difficulties, grievances, and dangers are owing, will at length give way to the moderate but determined perseverance of a whole united people.—Sir Francis Burdett.

One of the boroughmongering crew is already demolished; by his side, on the ground, are two money-bags, 'Rapine,' and 'Drainings from the hard hand of the industrious poor.' Of the twin wretches who are being strangled without mercy at the hands of Sir Francis Burdett one has in his pocket 'Barrow (borough?), in Cornwall, bought and sold; apply to——;' two money-bags, 'Extortion money,' and 'Bribery and Corruption bag,' are dropping from his hands; while in the pocket of the other nefarious agent may be seen 'Rotten borough to be disposed of.'

May 1, 1810. Views of the Colleges. Front View of Christ Church, Oxford.

May, 1810. Emmanuel College Garden, Cambridge.

May, 1810. Emmanuel College, Cambridge. (A nobleman presenting busts.) Published by R. Ackermann.

May, 1810. St. Mary's Church. Radcliffe Library. Published by R. Ackermann.

May, 1810. Inside of the Public Library, Cambridge. Published by R. Ackermann.

'Rowlandson's views in Oxford and Cambridge, 1810, deserve notice for the slight and pleasing manner with which he has characterised the architecture of the places mentioned; but it is impossible to surpass the originality of his figures. The dance of students and filles de joie before Christ Church College is highly humorous, and the enraged tutors grin with anger peculiar to this artist's pencil. The professors in the view of the Observatory at Oxford are made as ugly as baboons, and yet the profundity of knowledge they possess is conspicuous at the first glance, and we should know them to be Masters of Arts without the aid of a background. The scene in Emmanuel College garden, Cambridge, exhibits the learned in a state of relaxation; several handsome lasses remove apples from a tree, and the indolent curiosity with which they are viewed by these sons of ease is very characteristic.'—Malcolm's 'History of Caricature.'

May 5, 1810. A Bait for Kiddies on the North Road, or that's your sort—prime, bang up to the mark. Tegg's caricatures (12).—The widow Casey's hotel offers 'genteel accommodation' on the road to 'York Races.' The prudent widow has supplemented the attractions of her house by engaging a handsome and buxom maid, who is attached to the inn as a decoy for the 'sprigs of fashion' who may happen to be driving on the North Road. The charioteer of a four-in-hand, a 'dashing blade,' made up in correct coaching style—voluminous necktie, coat down to his heels, and capes innumerable—has called for a bowl of punch, and is standing in the doorway, stroking the redundantly developed waitress under the chin.

May 10, 1810. Kissing for Love, or Captain Careless shot flying by a girl of fifteen, who unexpectedly put her head out of a casement.

May 10, 1810. Easterly Winds, or Scudding under Bare Poles. Published by T. Tegg (2).—One of the landing stairs on the river. A gale is blowing, and the boats are dancing about. The watermen are pulling a skiff to the stairs; at the same moment a breeze is blowing off a parson's wig and hat, and carrying away his fair companion's parasol, bonnet, &c. The landing steps show a succession of disasters, an ascending flight of hats, caps, and wigs, of which the astonished wearers are suddenly denuded.

May 15, 1810. Three Weeks after Marriage, or the Great Little Emperor Playing at Bo-peep. Tegg's caricatures (16).—The new Empress is in a fierce passion, wreaking her vengeance on all around; Talleyrand is levelled with the floor by a blow from the sceptre; he is crying, 'Be Gar, she will give us all de finishing stroke.' A marshal is seeking refuge behind the curtains and declaring: 'Marbleu, vat a crown-cracker she be!' The little Emperor is dodging behind an armchair, beseeching his stricken prime minister, 'Tally, Tally,' to 'rise and rally.' The Empress is threatening to hurl the Imperial crown at her intimidated lord and master, protesting, 'By the Head of Jove, I hate him worse than famine or disease. Perish his family! let inveterate hate commence between our houses from this moment, and meeting, never let them bloodless part.' The coronation throne has the crown knocked off; and, kicked on the floor by this untamable Austrian, are all the conquered diadems of Europe, including the Pope's tiara and the iron crown of Italy.

May 15. 1810. A Bonnet Shop. Rowlandson del. Tegg's collection (17).—This plate is best described from the advertisement of the proprietress, displayed on her premises, for the manufacture of the straw bonnets and hats which were the mode at the beginning of the century: 'Miss Flimsey's fashionable warehouse; the greatest variety of straw hats and bonnets made up in the most elegant taste. A large stock of Spanish, Flemish, Provincial, Gipsy, Cottage, Woodland, &c., &c., adapted to show every feature to advantage.'

An old fright is trying on an unbecoming straw-bonnet at a mirror, while a handsome saleswoman is puffing her wares. A number of pretty apprentices are trimming hats, and an antiquated quiz, with his spyglass, is poking his head through the window, and saluting the bevy of beauties with a satyr-like grin.

'Miseries À la Mode.—The being over-persuaded by a canting shopwoman, in endeavouring to puff off a stale article, that it is the most becoming and suitable to your style of features; but on consulting your friends and acquaintance they pronounce it the most frightful, hideous, and unfashionably formed thing—that would disgrace Cranbourne Alley.'

May 20, 1810. Peter Plumb's Diary. Published by T. Tegg (18).—The picture represents the drawing-room of a 'warm citizen,' evidently 'worth a plum.' The corpulent master of the house and the no less well-favoured partner of his bosom are seated before a capital fire; the comfortable couple have drunk their port and supped their punch, of which a capacious bowl is ready to hand on a table between them; the host has smoked a whiff of 'Turkey' and then dropped off to sleep in his armchair; his wife has followed his example; and a fat poodle, snugly laid on a soft cushion before the fender, is dozing luxuriously; the motto of the house is written over the mantel: 'Eating, drinking, and sleeping, with the generality of people, form the three important articles of life.' The blooming daughter, a melting young damsel, has her own creed on the subject. An opportunity is offered for a little flirtation; a gallant and good-looking young buck is saluting her with a tender embrace; the pair have sat down to perform duetto prestissimo, but the swain's flute is discarded, and the fair pianist is negligently touching the keyboard to a lively air, Lucy's Delight, while the flirtation is proceeding undisturbed by the presence of the slumbering parents.

Peter Plumb is a desirable father-in-law, and his commercial interests are set forth in 'a view of Wapping Docks,' and a plan, suspended on rollers, for the 'new improvement of the Cattle Market in Smithfield.'

The existence of the sleeper would appear an easy one; witness the extract from Peter Plumb's Diary. This honest man being of greater consequence in his own thoughts than 'in the eye of the world,' had for some years past kept a journal of his life. Videlicet, the following exciting example:—

'Monday.—Eight o'clock: I put on my clothes, washed hands and face. Nine o'clock: Tied my knee-strings, put on my double-soled shoes, took a walk to Islington. One o'clock: Took a luncheon. Between two and three returned. Dined on a knuckle of veal and bacon. Three: Nap as usual. Four to six: Walked in the fields. Wind S.S.E. From six to ten: Went to the club; was half-an-hour before anybody else came. Ten at night: Went to bed. Slept without waking till nine next morning. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday: Little or no variation.'

May 30, 1810. A Table d'HÔte, or French Ordinary in Paris. (20).—The Table d'HÔte is an appropriate companion to the Paris Diligence. The travellers have duly reached the capital, and a scene of Parisian life is shown on their arrival in the French metropolis. The salle À manger, where the ordinary is held, is a handsome apartment, decorated in showy taste with enrichments in plaster, canopies, curtains, mirrors, &c. The repast is in active course, and its humours are improved on with an observant eye. The company is diversified; there are bourgeois and their wives, petits-maÎtres, marquises, fat friars, and ladies of various degrees, all complaisance and graciousness. A Savoyard, with a hurdy-gurdy, and her daughter, with a triangle, are 'discoursing sweet sounds' to enliven the repast. A dog is taught to beg for food. The manners of the feeders are of different shades. Pledging toasts, flirtations, and small gallantries animate the severer business of the hour. Several whimsical accidents are introduced, results of awkward or inattentive service on the part of waiters; one grave citizen is receiving a scalding bouillon in his eye, while a bouilli is simultaneously poured over a bowing dandy; a glass of wine is capsized into a lady's plate while her attention is diverted; and a piggish priest, whose soup is suffered to stream down the corners of his fat jowl, has his shaven pate saluted by a cascade from a bottle tilted up by a heedless fair domestique, whose regards are engaged by the pleasantries of an amorous old fogey by her side, with whom she is exchanging jocularities.

1810 (?). Paris Diligence. Rowlandson del. et sculp. Published by T. Tegg.—This print is one of a class somewhat superior to the average series published in Cheapside. The scene is a favourite one with the artist, and his early experiences in France here serve him in valuable stead. It is in pictures of Continental life, before the aspects of the quaint and picturesque surroundings were entirely transmogrified by the French Revolution, that we recognise Rowlandson at his best. The value of these sketches is perhaps greater than of any other works his facile hand has bequeathed us, and the interest of these subjects is found to appeal to a larger circle of admirers.

The diligence is starting from a massively built and handsome innyard, the sign of the Coq en PÂte. The 'machine' is a cumbersome vehicle, clumsy and heavy to an incredible degree. It is drawn—at no rapid pace, it is certain—by four strong, long, ill-favoured steeds, harnessed with ropes to the Noah's Ark-like contrivance, and ridden by two postilions, who are cracking their long thonged whips without producing much acceleration of speed in the toiling team. The timber of the diligence would be heavy for a gun-carriage, and the construction of the entire concern is perfectly primitive. A huge basket in front, about the size of a porter's lodge, is presumably the 'luggage boot;' below this are two small and heavy wheels, while at the other end of the machine are two enormous hind-wheels. The elongated body of the vehicle seems also to be made of rough basket-work. Through the unglazed spaces for windows are seen the occupants, who are travelling Pariswards: an assortment of corpulent and shaven monks, peasant women, and an old veteran with a formidable pigtail; a fashionable lady in feathers is ogling a beau wearing a powdered wig and enormous solitaire. The roof itself is also loaded; another fat friar, with shaven poll, is reading his book, over which is peeping a dÉbonnaire damsel of redundant charms, who is flirting a gigantic fan; an officer, with an enormous cocked-hat and a massive club, has his hands in a muff of pantomimic magnitude; by his side is a lively grisette, with a parasol; another officer is reclining behind.

The diligence is attended by the usual mendicants, vociferously appealing for alms. The background is a quaint French town of some importance; a jack-booted rider is clattering along in the rear of a travelling-carriage, which is posting to the capital, driven by a postilion. Down the street is shown a procession of well-fed friars; and a party of devout nuns are striking attitudes at the foot of a carved figure. The whole picture recalls the precise aspect France wore at the time Sterne made his famous 'Sentimental Journey,' and the scene might well be a chapter from that picturesque pilgrimage.

June 4, 1810. Love and Dust. Published by T. Tegg. Republished. (See 1799.)

June 5, 1810. Boxing Match for Two Hundred Guineas betwixt Dutch Sam and Medley, fought May 31, 1810, on Moulsey Hurst, near Hampton. Published by T. Tegg. Tegg's caricatures (22).—The artist has drawn the fight, judging from the appearance offered by the opponents, during the first round, while all was cool and scientific. The champions, stripped to the waist, are sparring round one another on guard; their seconds are eagerly following up the principals; the two bottle-holders are seated on the grass. The spectators, a very orderly company, according to the picture, are arranged on the grass in a wide circle, while beyond the amateurs on foot is a ring of vehicles, on the roofs of which are perched the more fashionable portion of the patrons of the Ring, amongst whom are seen some of the softer sex.

'The concourse of people exceeded anything we have ever witnessed. The spectators were computed at ten thousand. At one o'clock the champions entered the ring, and Sam had for his second Harry Lee, whilst Joe Ward officiated for Medley. After a severe and bloody contest of forty-nine rounds victory was decided in favour of Sam.'

August 8, 1810. Smuggling Out, or Starting from Gretna Green. Rowlandson del. Schultz scul. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—A gallant officer is assisting a pretty and precocious boarding-school miss to elope from a balcony window; a post-chaise is waiting in readiness to carry the fugitives 'across the Border,' and a servant in attendance has secured the damsel's personal belongings in a portmanteau on his shoulders.

August 8, 1810. Smuggling In, or a College Trick.—The picture represents the corner of a college quadrangle. Three festive and mischievously disposed collegians appear at the window of their rooms; with the contrivance of a sling and a stout rope they are managing to draw up, clandestinely, as they fondly imagine, a pretty, modish, and, we fear, wanton maiden, who is not in the least terrified or abashed at her situation, but is entering into the spirit of the adventure. A frowning proctor, who is scandalised at these reprehensible irregularities, is standing in an angle, half-concealed in the shadow, scowling at the party, and waiting to dart out and surprise the violators of the academical proprieties at the critical moment for their detection.

September 8, 1810. Procession of the Cod Company from St. Giles's to Billingsgate. Published by T. Tegg (11).—A view of old Billingsgate, overlooking the river, with the fish being landed from the crowds of smacks at the old covered jetty, since swept away. The pilgrimage of the sturdy members of The Cod Company, we presume, is made to the craft on the river to take in cargoes of fish. The procession is composed of corpulent old Irish women, of colossal breadth and strength, all balancing their fish-baskets on their heads, some smoking their cherished clay pipes, and carrying their stoutly developed arms crossed, akimbo, or on their hips, after their individual proclivities.

September 25, 1810. Rigging out a Smuggler. Published by T. Tegg (8).—A party of sailors in a cabin are fitting out a handsome young creature to 'run the gauntlet' of the Custom-house officers, or rather to go on shore, with as full a cargo of excisable articles as they can secure round her person. Huge pockets of 'old Japan china, tea, gum,' &c. are disposed round her waist, together with a small keg of 'coniac,' and a flagon of otto of roses. Chests of Congou and Souchon and flasks of arrack are standings about.

September 30, 1810. Dramatic Demireps at their Morning Rehearsal. Published by T. Tegg (10).—The intention of this burlesque is a pun on dram-atic; the theatrical demireps being very ungallantly displayed in the Hundreds of Drury, inhabiting an attic, and indulging in matutinal potations of gin. The surroundings do not give a very cultivated idea of the actresses or their belongings. The Chapter of Accidents seems to be the piece in rehearsal. The toilettes of the fair performers are shockingly neglected. Over the mantelpiece are various professional announcements 'for the benefit of the Theatrical Fund,' &c. By the side of an 'À la mode beef jug' is a melon marked 'Ripe—rotten,' and other ironical allusions to current scandals and personages then well recognised are posted on the walls, as sketches for portraits: Peg and the Duke, Bald as a Coote, Little Darby O! Ever Craving, and Old Q., and various innuendoes hardly flattering to the originals indicated.

October 5, 1810. Sports of a Country Fair. Part the First. Published by T. Tegg.—The bustling picture of a country fair in full operation. In the rear are swings, booths, and theatrical shows. In the foreground is shown a cart overset; a man is holding on to the head of the horse, which in rearing has snapped his girths and tilted the cart on end, while the late occupants are thrown down in motley confusion, sprawling on the turf, pommelling, kicking, shrieking, and throwing up their limbs, while eager groups of spectators are hurrying up to enjoy the disaster.

October 5, 1810. Sports of a Country Fair. Part the Second.—A nearer view of the same fair: the thick of the crowd; stick-throwing for snuffboxes, oyster-opening, pocket-picking, and a round-about swing; one of the boats is giving way, and a fair swinger and her swain are falling through. There is an inn where cordials are supplied, through the windows of which various scenes of love-making are visible. In the distance may be seen Polito's stage-booths, horse-racing, and other diversions.

October, 1810. Sports of a Country Fair. Part the Third. Published by T. Tegg.—The interior of another booth-theatre; the play is interrupted; the only performer on the stage is thrown into consternation, and the whole of the audience are dispersing in terror at an unexpected intruder. A royal Bengal tiger has made his escape from an adjoining show, and is bounding through the canvas walls of the theatrical booth, threatening to descend plump into the auditorium. The effect on the frightened playgoers may be well imagined. Some are prostrate with terror; one man is down on his knees and cannot move for fright; ladies are fainting; husbands are manfully endeavouring to carry off their wives out of the way of the terrible visitor, and everything is turned topsy-turvy.

1810. Sports of a Country Fair.—The sport in this case is accidental, and the amusement verges on peril of a terrible character. A temporary theatre, Cockburn's Company, is on fire, and the spectators are escaping as best they may. The entrance is from a balcony reached by a flight of steps, and the frightened spectators are pouring out of the building, which is burning furiously, and throwing themselves pellmell down the steps, at the bottom of which they are sprawling, kicking, and plunging in fright and confusion. Certain buxom damsels are climbing over the balustrade and dropping from the balcony, with the musicians, into the arms of those below. A bill on the booth announces the Last Night, Pizarro and Don Juan, A Shower of Real Fire, and A View of the Infernal Regions. Crowds are scudding away in the distance, and the other attractions of the fair are at a standstill.

October 25, 1810. An Old Ewe Drest Lamb Fashion. Published by T. Tegg. A deceptive old tabby, clad in a juvenile style, is dashing along in a high poke-bonnet; three or four Don Juans of eccentric exterior are hurrying after her to tender their attentions, an act of gallantry they are likely to regret on closer inspection. The quotation offered as A Misery of Human Life runs thus: 'Walking fast and far to overtake a woman from whose shape and air as viewed en derriÈre you have decided that her face is angelic, till, on eagerly turning round as you pass her, you are petrified by a Gorgon.'

October 25, 1810. Spitfires. Published by T. Tegg (44).

October 25, 1810. Dropsy Courting Consumption. Published by T. Tegg (45).—Outside a building marked Mausoleum—a dwarf rotunda beside a slender column—kneels a round ball of a suitor, who, it would seem, is destined never to recover his perpendicular; he is suing at the feet of an attenuated nymph, of straight and bony proportions, who it appears is in the last stage of wasting away. In the grounds a corpulent lady and a declining-looking gentleman of the Laurence Sterne type are contemplating a statue of Hercules.

November 1, 1810. Doctor Gallipot placing his Fortune at the feet of his Mistress. 'Throw physic to the dogs.' Republished. (See 1808.)

November 1, 1810. Kitchen Stuff. Published by T. Tegg (43).—A scene of low life below stairs. A fire is roaring up the kitchen grate, and a fat old cook, slumbering in an armchair drawn up to the kitchen table, has her feet resting on the chimneypiece, and a glass of 'cherry bounce' held in her chubby hand, to refresh her after the exertions of the day. A younger and proportionately comely and comfortable-looking kitchen-maid is also stealing 'forty winks,' with her head resting against the chimneypiece; while a fat black footman, who completes this evidently easy-going household, is indulging in the luxury of repose and pillowing his slumbering woolly pate on the ample shoulders of his shapely neighbour.

November 19, 1810. A Hit at Backgammon. Published by T. Tegg (No. 46).

November 20, 1810. Medical Despatch, or Doctor Doubledose Killing Two Birds with One Stone. Published by T. Tegg (47).—Reclining back in an armchair is an old invalid lady, evidently at the last gasp; her end is made still more certain by opium and composing draughts placed ready to her hand. On the armchair of the ghastly sufferer leans a pretty buxom girl in the flush of womanhood, who is wavering between grief and rapture—tears for her departing relative and regard for the caresses of the practitioner, who is dismissing his patient and courting a bride at the same moment. While one hand of the perfidious Doctor is carelessly holding the pulse of the sinking woman his arm is thrown round the neck of the blooming maiden, his fat features are expressive of maudlin tenderness, and his eyes are turned upwards in awkward admiration.

November 20, 1810. Bath Races. Published by T. Tegg (49).—The race appropriately starts from 'Cripple's Corner;' the halt, the maimed, and the lame are the competitors; it is, in fact, a race of Bath chairs and crutches, all tearing and tumbling down hill and blowing in the wind; the gouty hangers behind being urged forward, pushed, whipped, and cheered on by the delighted spectators. The city of Bath is slightly indicated in the rear.

November 30, 1810. Doctor Drainbarrel conveyed Home in a Wheelbarrow, in order to take his Trial for Neglect of Family Duty. Published by T. Tegg (23).

November 30, 1810. After Sweet Meat comes Sour Sauce, or Corporal Cazey got into the Wrong Box. Rowlandson del. Published by T. Tegg (24).—The Corporal has incautiously been paying a secret visit to a fine, plump and well-favoured damsel, on whose affections, it would seem, the man of war has no legitimate claim. The lady is snugly disposing her lover in a strong-box, with iron clamps, probably the sea-chest of the lawful proprietor of the chamber. Before closing the lid on the captive swain the buxom maid, at whose waist hangs the key of the chest, is favouring the suitor with a parting kiss. An old 'salt,' his few remaining hairs bristling with indignation and resentment, is looking in at the window and surveying the entire transaction before making his entrance on the scene. That the Corporal has fairly got into the 'wrong box' is further hinted by a trap at his side, in which an unfortunate rat is securely imprisoned.

1810. The Harmonic Society. 'The Assemblies of women are too frequently marked by malice to each other, and slander of the absent; the meetings of men by noise, inebriety, and wrangling.'—A companion scene to The Breaking up of a Blue Stocking Club (March 1, 1815). The direst disorder, according to the plate, is proceeding around on all sides: the conflict of fists, aided by such aggressive articles as bottles, the fireirons, and any offensive weapon that may come to hand, is raging free and furious. The president of this harmonic meeting is very naturally employing his hammer to bring the turbulent to order, by using it as an instrument to knock down his opponents. Wigs are sent flying 'through space,' chairs are wrecked; decanters, spirit-bottles, punchbowls, and such frail objects as tumblers, rummers, and wine-glasses, are involved in universal destruction. One elated youthful hero has jumped on the table in a tipsy frolic; he is promoting the further confusion which darkness will entail by deliberately smashing up the candles, and battering the sconces of the chandelier with the assistance of a punch-ladle.

1810. The Sign of the Four Alls.—The four personages who constitute this famous view of the relative estates of the realm stand under niches; the head of the State is the first represented; and next, of course, is the Church; then the powers militant; and lastly, as a sort of necessary evil, the commonalty—perhaps better kept out of sight altogether, since the presence of the representative of this portion of the empire is not acknowledged by the other three, his pastors and masters. Number one, George the Third; the King in this case is represented strutting in awful but somewhat awkward majesty. To quote a national but lowly authority, Giles Grinagain:—

The Bishop, a snug ecclesiastic, a remnant possibly of the bad old school of the Clarke preferments, all wig, lawn sleeves, mitre, and crozier, is raising his fat hands with sanctimonious import—'I pray for all.' As to the soldier, the military officer drawn by Rowlandson rather reminds one of Colonel Wardle, whose person the caricaturist had made a little too familiar—'I fight for all;' and lastly comes John Bull, under his agricultural aspect, a simple farmer, with his smock, hay-fork, and dog, and, what is more to the purpose, his bag of 'hard earnings' in his hand, on the strength of which he is admitted to join the quartette—on sufferance, it is palpable—'I pay for all!'[22]

1810 (?). The Rabbit Merchant. Published by T. Tegg (25).—The view of a country street; a rabbit seller, with a selection of his stock on his pole, is offering a choice to an old dame, who is somewhat hypercritical, and is employing a test which the rabbit merchant considers excessive and uncalled for; he is represented as offering 'the retort courteous' in justification of his goods.

1810 (?). A Sale of English Beauties in the East Indies.—Although, as we have noticed, Rowlandson's work was stamped by the strongest originality, he, like other etchers of caricatures, often executed the ideas or worked out the first impressions of less experienced draughtsmen; however, unlike most engravers, he has left, in his numerous plates after Wigstead, Woodward, Bunbury, Nixon, Newton, &c. (in all cases the name of the originator is given), but slight traces of the defects and shortcomings of the amateur artists whose sketches he has put into circulation, the major part of the engravings bearing unmistakable and easily recognised evidence of Rowlandson's individuality. In the case of the present caricature he has, in some degree, departed from this practice, probably at the desire of the publisher of the print, and has gone to Gillray's large and spirited plate entitled A Sale of English Beauties in the East Indies for the materials of his version of the same subject. It is noticeable, however, that while he has, in a free-handed manner, preserved the chief points and indeed most of the figures of the original (published March 16, 1786), he has forborne to put his own name to the copy. It is probable that the original version was, at the date of the smaller copy, in demand and difficult to purchase, and, to satisfy the requirements of both publishers and public, Rowlandson has etched this second edition of his friend's plate, Gillray having unhappily lost his reason at the date of the republication.

The scene is supposed to be drawn from one of the landing-places in the East Indies. A merchantman has arrived with a cargo which has proved a source of excitement and attraction to residents of all classes. The fair sex being in great apparent request, a shipload of English beauties on arriving in the East would naturally produce commotion and competition among natives and foreigners alike. A dapper auctioneer is mounted on a bale of books lately arrived, a similar package forms his desk, and he is knocking down a very attractive article, which seems likely to bring a handsome figure. A fine tall beauty is under the scrutiny of a rich Nabob; a young officer is trying to win her ear, and an envoy from the Government, with instructions in his pocket from the Governor-General, is calculating the lady's height with his walking-stick held as a measure. Similar incidents are represented around; the Rajahs are inspecting the latest importations with true merchant-like caution; sundry bargains have already been secured, and in the scales is shown a method of approximating valuations; a well-favoured arrival of the florid and fully developed type is set against a corresponding weight of 'lacs of rupees.' In the background is pictured a large warehouse for 'unsaleable goods from Europe—to be returned by the next ship'—and several damsels are in great distress at being forced to take refuge within this unpopular establishment.

1810. A Parody on Milton. Published by T. Tegg.

A slipshod and tailorlike-looking old scarecrow, with spectacles on nose, and wearing a scarlet nightcap, is viewing with idiotic rapture the advent of a fat, inebriated, and dishevelled bacchante of mature charms, who, with a decanter in one hand and a glass in the other, is staggering into the chamber, to the amusement of a pretty servant-maid outside. The ancient dotard is making a parody on the quotation: 'On she came—such as I saw her in my dream. Grease was in all her steps—Geneva in her hand; and every gesture reeling ripe for fun!'

Circa 1810. Cries of London. Thirty plates.

1810. S. Butler. Hudibras. With illustrations after W. Hogarth, engraved by Thomas Rowlandson. Republished. T. Tegg. (See 1809.)