January 18, 1811. College Pranks, or Crabbed Fellows Taught to Caper on the Slack Rope. Published by T. Tegg (53).—Two portly, and highly respectable Fellows of the University, proceeding along their quadrangle, are assailed with a rough practical joke by a party of unruly young undergraduates; a rope is being suddenly lifted up with a hearty good-will by a riotous mob at either end, and the astonished 'dons' are tripped up and turned over like turtles on a memorial-stone—'Here lies the body of Bishop Bleareyes.' Squibs, squirts, and whips, in the hands of these disorderly students, are further contributing to the annoyance of the capsized magnates.

February, 1811. A Sleepy Congregation. Rowlandson fecit. Published by T. Tegg (54).—The interior of a parish church. Of the occupants of a family-pew in the foreground the elders are sleeping, while a fair young worshipper's thoughts are evidently wandering; the attentions of one or two buckish youths, seated in the vicinity, seem to be centred on the lady; the clerk is snoring at his desk, regardless of the podgy and somewhat excited preacher over his head, who is quite absorbed in his sermon, which does not seem to interest anyone but the deliverer.

February 12, 1811. A Midwife going to a Labour. Tegg's Caricatures (55).—The stout old nurse, a body of balloon-like expansiveness, is hurrying off, summoned to her duties, at an unearthly hour of the morning. Her head-gear is flowing about in the wind, her hood and cape are caught by the gale; a lantern is held in one hand, a brandy-bottle and a bundle, containing her luggage, are cuddled up in the other, and she is mounted on pattens. The night-watchman is dozing in his box, and a shivering chimney-sweeping lad is crouching along to his early toil, with brushes and bags.

February 16, 1811. The Gig-Shop, or Kicking up a Breeze at Nell Hamilton's Hop. Published by T. Tegg.—According to the picture of this place of 'fast' resort, dancing has given way to much rougher diversions, and, although the musicians are in their gallery, playing away as if the scene below was the regular thing, the place appropriated for the dance is given up to a mill conducted on strikingly professional principles; one of the combatants has 'peeled' in recognised style, and his opponent has stripped to his shirt; the backers and seconders of the fisticuffing bucks (who are freely besprinkled with the ruby fluid) are members of the fair sex; in fact, ladies seem in the ascendant at this entertainment. A ring of delighted spectators are enjoying the fight and the fun from the benches, while other gentlemen are prudently engaged in restraining their fair partners from getting mixed up in the squabble which is raging fast and furious, thick and general, behind the two 'milling' gentlemen; ladies using their fists manfully, kicking, tearing hair, and throwing themselves into desperate warfare with terrific confusion and effect. In the foreground a fair nymph of interesting but dishevelled appearance, probably the friend of one of the combatants, is falling into a fainting fit, from which the attentions of those who surround her seem inadequate to restore her to consciousness.

February 20, 1811. Pigeon Hole, a Covent Garden Contrivance to Coop the Gods. Published by T. Tegg (57).—The miseries consequent on heat and crowding in a restricted space, as displayed in the Pigeon Hole Galleries of John Kemble's newly-constructed Drury Lane Theatre, gave rise to the present caricature, which is further explained under the head of This is the House that Jack Built (Sept. 27, 1809), and The Boxes (Dec. 12, 1809). General dissatisfaction was expressed by all but the privileged subscribers; the lessee's treatment of the humble supporters of the drama, the frequenters of the gallery, gave special offence; and the illiberality of the management which provided such disgraceful accommodation for its patrons was resented by the unruly proceedings known as the O. P. Riots, which marked the public sense of the transaction.

February 26, 1811. A French Dentist Showing a Specimen of his Artificial Teeth and False Palates. Published by T. Tegg (58).—It is not easy to determine whether this caricature was intended solely as a satire or as an advertisement for some dental professor who was established here at the time. In Rowlandson's day, however, false teeth were sufficient novelties to be welcome subjects for ridicule. An overgrown and exuberantly corpulent female is serving as a sample of the Frenchman's skill; her widely distended mouth is liberally displaying a wonderful set of masticators. The professor is the typical foreigner of the period, wearing hair-powder, a bag-wig, and earrings. An old beau, looking through a quizzing-glass, is admiring the prospect of securing a decent set of teeth, his own gums exhibiting a very ragged and defective regiment. An advertisement in the rear sets forth: 'Mineral Teeth.—Monsieur De Charmant, from Paris, engages to affix from one tooth to a whole set, without pain. Monsieur D. can also affix an artificial palate or a glass eye in a manner peculiar to himself; he also distils, &c., &c.'

March, 1811. Bacon-faced Fellows of Brazen-Nose Broke Loose. Published by T. Tegg (59).—The persons of learned members of the Universities were not treated with a sparing hand by the satirist. Rowlandson has introduced various incidents of college life into his caricatures; but, throughout the series, the waggishly-inclined artist does not, we are afraid, exhibit any particular respect for Alma Mater. The Fellows of Brasenose are drawn, with unusual unction, issuing from their Hall and through the archways of the Colleges, dressed in their academic guise, and pouring forth like a sable stream of erudition. The various expressions and attitudes of the 'big-wigs' are vastly well hit off; their diversified peculiarities of face or motion are full of comicality. These grave sons of the Church are not free from gallant considerations—a buxom wench, with a basket of fruit slung round her shapely neck, is the centre of attraction; the 'Bacon-faced Fellows' are crowded around, bargaining for her ware and leering at the seller with undisguised and clumsy admiration. A reflection is cast on the Vice-Chancellor, who is vainly endeavouring to steal into his apartments without being detected by the rest of the sly grinning Fellows, with a weighty folio under his arm, and followed by an engaging young fruiteress, a lump of rustic innocence, bearing her baskets, for better selection from the contents, to the seclusion of the Vice's study.

March 10, 1811. She Stoops to Conquer. Published by T. Tegg (61).—The central room of a prison. Various strong doors and iron-grated windows open on the chamber. Bolts, padlocks, and strings of fetters indicate the nature of the security. Behind a grating is seen a prisoner, on whose behalf a buxom damsel is supposed to 'stoop to conquer,' since by dint of a plentiful repast, renewed strong potations, and those tender cajoleries which are believed to be the special weapons of the fair, the lady is evidently endeavouring to gain possession of the precious keys which will enable her to set her imprisoned swain at liberty.

March 12, 1811. The Anatomist. Published by T. Tegg (60).—The meaning of this print is not very obvious. It may be assumed that Dr. Sawbones has secured a new subject; but whether an admirer of the anatomist's lady has had himself conveyed into her presence by simulating death, or changing places with the 'subject,' does not appear. However, the critical situation of the lively gentleman on trestles does not seem conducive to a tranquil frame of mind; the operator is deliberately getting out his saws, knives, scissors, and other repellent anatomical instruments in a business-like spirit, for he has, according to an announcement, to deliver A Course of Anatomical Lectures, accompanied with Dissections, and he is in want of a subject for demonstration. The lady, filled with the direst apprehensions, is trying to impress on the anatomist the remarkable and unusual fact that the dead man has returned to life.

March 16, 1811. Sailors on Horseback. Published by T. Tegg (62).—This print is one of the numerous instances of subjects designed by amateurs and given to Rowlandson to engrave, and, in most respects, to put into shape. According to the humours of this print four sailors, mounted on horseback, are going off on an equestrian cruise by the seashore. The British Tar most at his ease has been lashed with strong cables to the back of his steed beyond a chance of drifting loose: 'Here I come, my hearties, right and tight—smart sailing; but never mind that—I can't be cast away, for my commander, Heavens bless him, has lashed me to the deck with some tough old cables!' His neighbour, who has a restive horse, requests, 'Keep more to the starboard, and be d—— to you; don't you see how you make my vessel run ahead!' A third, riding behind, is mounted on an animal who is taking into his head to launch out in the rear: 'D—— me, how she heaves; why, this is worse than a jolly-boat in the Bay of Biscay!' A comrade, having had a spill, has been left on the road, and is in danger of being run over: 'Mind what you are at, messmates, for I am upset, and the frigate I came on board of has been under way without me this half-hour.'

March 28, 1811. Kitty Careless in Quod, or Waiting for Jew Bail. Published by T. Tegg (65).—A dashing young lady of fashion, who has evidently been running ahead of the constable, is 'laid by the heels' in a spunging-house; the apartment in which she is lodged belongs, it appears from a printed notice on the wall, to MacNab, Sheriff's Officer for the County of Middlesex—genteel accommodation for ladies and gentlemen. Heavy locks and bolts to the door, and massive bars to the window, indicate the security of Kitty's keeping. The fair captive does not seem depressed by her confinement: seated before a glowing fire, her legs crossed in easy indifference, the prisoner is drinking bumpers of port wine with her captors; a spectacle by no means unusual in the days of this publication, when the extravagances of people of fashion were constantly leading them to the confinement of a spunging-house.

April 1, 1811. Pastime in Portugal, or a Visit to the Nunneries. Published by T. Tegg (64).—The principal figure in this picture is that of a young officer belonging to the British army opposed to the French legions on the Peninsula; in company with a Portuguese don he has come to visit one of the nunneries which were sufficiently abundant in the country; three well-favoured members of the sisterhood and a sour-looking old harridan, by way of duenna, have come to the 'grill,' or large grated window, which was employed to cut off the 'cloistered ones' from the rest of the world. We are able to gather from the illustrations of the period that travellers were accustomed to make visits to nunneries, where they purchased objects manufactured by the inmates, who were regarded by our countrymen as a kind of show; the visitors, however, were always restricted to the outside of the grating which separated the sisterhood from more intimate association with a wicked world. In Rowlandson's sketch the pretty nuns are offering silk purses, of their own knitting, to their dashing visitor, whose attention is more exclusively occupied by the very decided personal attractions of the fair recluses.

April 5, 1811. The Last Drop. Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.—A short and corpulent bon-vivant, not unlike a balloon in figure, whose waistband has been abnormally distended by the bibulous propensities of the owner, is standing on tiptoe tilting up to his eager lips a huge punchbowl, too well filled to be lifted bodily; he is transferring the contents to his own inside with much gusto. While the veteran and inordinate toper is greedily engulfing his last bumping measure he is too busily engaged in the important work in hand to notice that Death, in his bony personality as a ghastly skeleton, is helping to raise the finishing bowl, while the fatal dart is poised over his head, ready for the stroke which will follow this last potation before the tippler has time to recover his breath. The stout gentleman has evidently enjoyed a lengthy innings, and, from the instances scattered about him, he has made the most of his opportunities; he is surrounded by the remnants of the good and bad things with which he has made away—barrels of stout, bottles of port, puncheons of usquebaugh, and spirits of all sorts; in fact, a very cellar of the strong drinks which in his day have fallen to the share of the departing toper.

April 9, 1811. Boney the Second, or the Little Baboon Created to Devour French Monkeys. Published by T. Tegg.—'Boneyparte,' in his general's uniform, is seated before the fire, making caudle—of French blood—for the infant prince; a row of sovereign-crowns, wrested from the wearers, are ranged on the mantelpiece. Napoleon's heir, the miniature of his sire, with the addition of a monkey's tail, is tearing and clawing at his parent, and is held on a cushion placed outside the Imperial cradle, which is inscribed Devil's Darling. Napoleon is haranguing in his usual grandiose style: 'Rejoice, ye Frenchmen; the fruits of my labour has produced a little image of myself. I shall, for the love I owe your country, instil in my noble offspring the same principles of lying, thieving, treachery, letchery, murder, and all other foul deeds, for which I am now worshipped and adored!' The Pope is kneeling by his side, and pronouncing by way of a benediction over the infant:—

April 10, 1811. A Picture of Misery. Published by T. Tegg (70).—The bare and chilling chamber is occupied by a leaden-hued and sordid-looking miser, opposite to whom is seated an individual of starved aspect; a pinched and shrivelled old beldame is seen at the door. A table of interest is the only literature the room can boast. The miser is crouching before the grate, and snuffing out the single candle for economy. Above the usurer hangs his own portrait; he is painted congenially occupied in weighing guineas; a list of securities, 'Stock Ex., Bank Stock, 3 per Cents., Imperial, Omnium, South Sea, Exchequer, Lottery,' &c., recalls sweet reflections. Below are the lines:—

April 12, 1811. Puss in Boots, or General Junot taken by Surprise. Rowlandson del. Published by T. Tegg (71).—A dashing young damsel has secured the jack-boots, cocked-hat, and long sword of General Junot, and is assuming valiant airs, dressed in these borrowed plumes, and threatening the French commander—who is helpless and in bed—with his own weapons.

April 14, 1811. Nursing the Spawn of a Tyrant, or Frenchmen Sick of the Breed. Published by T. Tegg.—The Empress of the French is in consternation at the precocious fury of her progeny, who, with an orb in one hand and a dagger in the other, is threatening destruction around; while the Emperor is listening behind a curtain; the pope and other Roman-Catholic hierarchs are offering 'composing draughts,' and suggesting to send the infantine monster to his supposed diabolical 'grandpapa' as quickly as possible. The Empress is thus proclaiming the terrors of her situation: 'There's no condition sure so curst as mine! Day and night to dandle such a dragon—the little angry cur snarls while it feeds; see how the blood is settled in his scarecrow face; what brutal mischief sits upon his brow. Rage and vengeance sparkle in his cheeks; the very spawn and spit of its tyrant father. Nay, now I look again, he is the very picture of his grandfather, the Devil!'

April 20, 1811. The Enraged Son of Mars and the Timid Tonsor. Published by T. Tegg (67).—The picture represents the interior of a barber's shop, a favourite subject with the caricaturists. A stout customer is expressing slaughterous intentions; a choleric old boy, probably an officer of the Militia, with the shaving-cloth round his short neck, is vowing vengeance on the head of the frightened barber, who has been so maladroit as to carve a tolerable gash in the veteran's round cheek. The tonsor's wife, who is also engaged in the business, is, while holding the soap-bowl and lather, thrown into consternation at the uproar raised by the damaged client. An assistant, who is employed in cutting the hair of another customer, is equally distracted, and, in his trepidation, is threatening the ears of his unconscious subject. The barber's monkey—for barbers have in all time enjoyed the credit of being fanciers of live stock—is lathering his head at a toilette-table, in imitation of the actions of a venerable personage who has just had his head shaved. Various blocks, with their attendant wigs, are ranged round the shelves of the shop, telling of the day when a gentleman's head of hair was sent out to be dressed, while he kept a change of wigs for convenience-sake; here we find parsons' blocks, clerks' blocks, doctors' blocks, lawyers' blocks, and other professional 'caxons,' the heads of the learned being distinguished by their respective wigs. Various sketches appear on the walls, the subjects being selected with a view to their trade appositeness. One picture represents the fate of Absalom, delivered to destruction by his luxuriant locks: 'O Absalom, my son, my son! hadst thou wore a wig this ne'er had happened,' &c., &c.

April 24, 1811. Rural Sports. Cat in a Bowl. No. 1.—The pastimes of our forefathers, before the establishment of Humane Societies for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, were too frequently of a barbarous description, and the cruelties then tolerated for mere sport were undoubtedly most reprehensible. The caricaturist has contrived to surround these wanton displays with an air of hilarity, and the spectacle of a 'cat in a bowl,' apart from the brutality of the fun, is not without its whimsical attractions. A favourite cat, the property of a distracted spinster, has been launched upon the water in a bowl, which is shown spinning round with the current, to the terror of the involuntary voyager, whose dread of immersion combined with her exertions to escape from this embarrassing situation, which threatens to capsize the treacherous craft at every turn, seem to afford the frivolous audience unqualified amusement. A lad is seated on the bank, with a girl by his side—probably the authors of the mischief—holding a barking dog, ready to attack the frightened creature if she comes too near the shore. Parties taking the air in chaises, and promenaders, the loiterers from the alehouse, pipe in hand, and various rustic groups gathered round the brink, are intensely diverted at the scene. Not so the owner of the cat; the horrified old maid, rendered desperate by the precarious situation of her pet, is pulling up her skirts and plunging forward in a vain endeavour to reach the slippery bowl, which is out of her reach; while a second old lady is doing her best to assist her friend. A little further down the bank the artist has introduced another reckless episode; a pair of horses are running away with a tandem, which is being overturned, and the driver and a stout female by his side are just on the point of being tumbled out without ceremony.

May 1, 1811. A Dog Fight.—There is a note on the proof impression of this plate in the writer's collection, to the effect that the print was never published. The spectacle represented is remarkably animated; the various incidents of the brutal exhibition are seized with a masterly hand; the enthusiasm and excitement of the audience are done full justice to. Drinking, betting, squabbling, an irregular scrimmage, picking of pockets, and similar humours are treated with due appreciation. The backers of the losing dog are thrown into dismay, as their faces sufficiently indicate; while the satisfaction which fills the supporters of the winning side is well expressed. The spirit of the picture is much increased by the introduction of numerous dogs, ferocious-looking 'varmints,' struggling to join the fray, and only held back from the stage of conflict by the most desperate exertions on the part of their owners; these combatively-minded animals are probably the heroes of coming tournays. The scene of this cruel sport, since made unlawful, is probably the 'Westminster pit,' [23] where such spectacles were constantly held, and attended by persons of rank and fashion, as well as by the dregs of the sporting and dog-fancying fraternities, whose presence, as shown in the study, is tolerably marked.

May 1, 1811. Touch for Touch, or a Female Physician in Full Practice.—The figure of the fair practitioner is highly spirited,—a handsome young female, whose person is set off with all the allurements of fine clothes, well-dressed hair, and waving plumes. A decrepit and toothless patient is evidently grateful to the doctress; he is filling the hand of the distinguished physician with gold-pieces before she leaves the apartment, or more properly consulting-room, which is further set off with a picture of Danae collecting a shower of gold.

May 4, 1811. Who's Mistress Now? Republished. (See 1802.)

May 16, 1811. The Bassoon—with a French Horn Accompaniment. Published by T. Tegg (75).—A couple of slumberers, with their noses elevated above the bedclothes, are evidently executing variations in a snoring fashion more powerful than pleasing:—

June 4, 1811. Summer Amusement. Bug Hunting.

July. 1811. A Ghost in the Wine Cellar. Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.

July 14, 1811. Easter Monday, or the Cockney Hunt. Designed, etched, and published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.—The old Cockney hunt is in full swing; the hounds are streaming over some palings in the way of their run; a poor little huntsman, perched upon a white mare, in attempting the jump has lost his whip, missed his seat, and is being thrown over the neck of his horse; while a spirited belle is leaping her horse in true sportsmanlike style.

1811 (?). Rural Sports.

1811. The Huntsman Rising. Republished. (See 1809.) Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.

1811. The Gamester Going to Bed. Republished. (See 1809.) Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi. According to the original drawing (see Appendix, collection of John West, Esq.) it appears, from a paper spread before the desperate gambler, that he has been tempted to give the coup de grÂce to his reckless career by committing a forgery.

August 20, 1811. Love Laughs at Locksmiths. Designed and published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.—The stronghold in which an old Israelite has confined his treasure has enormous padlocks on the area gate and the door studded with nails. The proprietor has returned with provisions for a merry-making; a porter bearing on his head a basket containing geese, fowls, fish, and fruit, with a flask of wine in his hand. The old curmudgeon's crutch is leaning against the door, and he is fumbling over the immense padlock, quite unconscious that a smart young officer, who has placed a ladder against the window of his lovely inamorata's apartment, is helping the captive bird to freedom from the clutches of her jealous jailer.

August 30, 1811. Masquerading. Published by T. Tegg.—The comicalities of a masquerade at the beginning of the century, when this class of entertainment, although declining since the palmy days of the Pantheon and Madame Cornely's extravagances in Soho Square, was more prevalent than at present, are set forth with due observation of the leading characteristics. Prominent among the maskers is a lady-magician, with her divining-wand and a book of the 'black art,' confronting a nondescript necromancer and his zany. There is a nobleman wearing horns as a becoming decoration for his head; and our old friend Punchinello, with a guitar, putting himself into grotesque contortions. There is a composite personage, a kind of Janus, an established feature in old bal masquÉs, one side male and the other female. There is a Folly, a councillor, and the usual attendance of dominos, masquers, and characters, whose disguises are of a speculative description.

September, 1811. Accommodation Ladder. Published by T. Tegg (85).—At the feet of a gigantic and finely-built wench is a rotund yet diminutive Admiral, with cocked-hat, telescope, sword, and all complete; his broad riband is marked Death or Victory. For his accommodation, that he may be able to reach her countenance within hailing distance, the lady, who is more than twice the height of her admirer, is holding a ladder ready for his ascent. The belle wears a gallant plume, and a streamer with the motto England expects every man to do his duty.

September 12, 1811. Sorrow's Dry, or a Cure for the Heartache.

September 20, 1811. Looking at the Comet till you get a crick in the neck. Published by T. Tegg (91).—A slipshod, lean old anatomy, in dressing-gown and slippers, is straining his ancient crooked neck staring at a comet through a spyglass. A comely young female, seated in an armchair at the window, is pointing out the phenomenon to the gazer; meanwhile a youthful gallant, on his knees beside the lady, is squeezing her hand, tenderly pressing her foot, and otherwise striving to enlist her interest by a demonstrative display of affection.

September 25, 1811. Life and Death of the Race Horse. Published by T. Tegg (90).—This print is divided into six stages. The first represents the foal by the side of his dam; in the second he is pictured as a racer on the course in all the pride of strength and beauty, blood and limb. In the third stage he has come down to a hunter; from thence, with old age fast approaching, he is used to run in a postchaise. In the fifth plate we find the whilom racehorse grown aged and broken down, and condemned to end his wretched days belaboured as a pack-horse. In the last stage the racehorse's career is brought down to his death, and a huntsman has purchased his carcass to feed his pack.

September 29, 1811. Rural Sports. A Milling Match which took place at Thisselton Gap, in the county of Rutland, September 28, 1811, betwixt Cribb and Molineaux, on a twenty-five foot stage, and was the second public contest between these two pugilists. It lasted nineteen minutes and ten seconds, and was decisive in favour of Cribb. Rowlandson del. Published by T. Tegg.—The point from which the picture is taken affords a good view of the combat, which is about concluded. Cribb, a massively-built boxer, is dealing the black champion such a felling blow as, judging from the dismay expressed in the faces of the two supporters of Molineaux, one of whom is also a man of colour, will leave the victory in the hands of the striker, whose backer and bottle-holder are in raptures. Round the raised platform which constitutes the ring is gathered a very animated throng, amidst which the artist has depicted the various popular incidents of pushing, struggling, climbing on shoulders, quarrelling, picking pockets, cheering, and resenting the encroachments of men on horseback. A prize-fight would seem to have been an institution in fashion at the beginning of the century; the streams of vehicles, coaches, tandems, curricles, and every contrivance 'on wheels' which surround the stage and line the background give the scene the appearance of a Derby course. The presence of the fair sex, who seem to appreciate the performance, keeps up the animation of the picture.

October 1, 1811. Rural Sports. Smock Racing. Published by T. Tegg.

October 2, 1811. John Bull at the Italian Opera. Republished. (See Oct. 2, 1805.) Designed and published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.

October, 1811. Rural Sports, or a Game at Quoits.—A village green, with an alehouse in the rear, is the scene of this diversion. Various loving couples are disporting themselves on benches and at round-tables by the alehouse door. The village cobblers, blacksmiths, tailors, butchers, &c., are neglecting their trades to follow the game; their injured wives have come to reduce the careless husbands to a proper sense of their duties. One shrewish spouse, leaning over the paling, is flourishing a broom with a force of arms that threatens to astonish her good man, whose attention is occupied in the game. Over the head of the victim is a board, Washing and mangling done here. Various convivial groups are scattered around.

October, 1811. Rural Sports, or how to show off a well-shaped Leg, introduces a rustic pleasure-ground. A rope thrown between two tall trees furnishes a swing for a well-developed and gaily apparelled hoyden; another maiden is working the rope which swings her friend; the attractions of the second lady have absorbed a young gentleman, whose attentions to the fair rope-puller are 'particular.' A group of wicked old roysterers are delighted with the prospect of the swinging hoyden—their pipes and bowls are neglected in their rapturous attention to the evolutions of the fair occupant of the swing, and their indignant wives are vainly endeavouring to recall them to a sense of propriety.

1811. Twelfth Night Characters, in twenty-four figures, by T. Rowlandson.

October, 1811. Rural Sports, or a Cricket Match Extraordinary. Published by T. Tegg (96).—On Wednesday, Oct. 3, 1811, a cricket match took place at Balls Pond, Newington. The players on both sides were women—11 Hampshire against 11 Surrey. The match was made between two noblemen amateurs of the respective counties for 500 guineas a side. The performers in the contest were of all ages and sizes. Such a subject in the hands of Rowlandson afforded almost unbounded opportunities for the exercise of his grotesque talents and his command of figure-drawing. The scene is a busy one, as may be conceived; a certain artistic freedom has been assumed, and there is a liberal display of limbs in all directions, the skirts of the cricketers being tucked up for convenience of motion; the performers, however, seem to enter into the contest with spirit, if not skill. Balls Pond, as seen in the engraving, is a fair open country, without a trace of a solitary habitation. A spacious tent, in the background, is erected for the Jolly Cricketers, wherein the noble patrons of the sport are fortifying the players with huge bowls of punch, restoratives which do not appear to promote the most orderly proceedings.

• 1811 (?). The Jockey Club, or Newmarket Meeting (111) (Betting Room).
• 1811 (?). The Sagacious Buck, or Effects of Waterproof.
• 1811 (?). Richmond Hill. After H. Bunbury. (See 1803.)
• 1811 (?). French Inn.ditto.
• 1811 (?). Quaix de Paris. ditto.
• 1811 (?). A Country Club.
• 1811 (?). Recruits. (See 1803.)
• 1811 (?). Morning, or the Man of Taste. After H. Bunbury.
• 1811 (?). Evening, or the Man of Feeling.ditto.
• 1811 (?). Conversazione.

October 11, 1811. Six Classes of that Noble and Intelligent Animal—a Horse.

• The Race Horse.
• The Shooting Pony.
• The Gig Horse.
• The War Horse.
• The Hunter.
• The Draught Horse.

October 10, 1811. Distillers looking into their own business. Published by T. Tegg.—The principal objects in the print are a still and a cask of double-rectified spirits, into which three members of the firm are involuntarily infusing foreign elements.

October, 1811. Dinners Dressed in the neatest manner. Published by T. Tegg (112).—The preparations of the cook in question are not calculated to increase the appetite of the observant epicure; the chef is hideous, old, rheumy, slovenly, and diseased; he is kneading the paste with his objectionable hands, his snuffbox is on the board by his side; while a blowsy and uncombed slattern is reaching down a pie-dish, in which the rats have been revelling; the bold depredators are scampering off no farther than the next dish. (Companion to Distillers looking into their own business.)

October 25, 1811. A Trip to Gretna Green. Designed and published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.—The scene of the situation is the green at Gretna, before the shed of Tim Tag, 'Blacksmith and Rector.' The worthy is in his clerical character, decently clad in professional sables; and, with spectacles on nose, he is reading the service, in a somewhat extemporary fashion, over a fugitive couple, in the open air. A dashing captain, dressed in his regimentals, as was then the everyday fashion in the King's service, is placing a ring on the finger of a comely maiden of tender years, who is smiling and blushing. The postilion who has driven the runaway pair to this stolen match is standing, cap in hand, grinning at the ceremonial. While the blacksmith is rivetting the fetters of Hymen in his clerical character, his professional helpers are looking to the shoes of the horses which are to bear the newly-married couple across the Border.

October 25, 1811. Rural Sports. Balloon Hunting. Published by T. Tegg (157).—The balloon is drifting before the wind beyond the control of the aeronaut; a fair voyager is making a terrific descent with a parachute in the midst of a flock of birds; from the top of a tall tower a gentleman is taking deliberate aim at the flying machine, probably with a view to bring it down by blowing a hole through the body of the balloon. In the foreground is shown the mishap of the balloon-hunters; a stout old gentleman is endeavouring to drag his vehicle up hill; his horse is shying and kicking; a dog is barking at the animal's head, the shafts are snapped, and the trap is kicked over; three fair riders are thrown out in picturesque confusion on the turf, and scattered with bottles and a bundle.

November 25, 1811. English Manner and French Prudence; or French Dragoons brought to a check by a Belvoir Leap. A Scene after Nature near Cuidad Rodrigo. September 1811. Published by H. Humphrey, St. James's Street.—'Lord Charles Manners was a famous horseman, and unexpectedly one day came upon a French cavalry picket, who gave chase until a brook was reached, which Lord Charles immediately cleared, making a salute, and bidding the Frenchmen (who were so surprised as not to fire until too late), 'Adieu, messieurs!' A paragraph from one of the London papers of the day makes the foregoing record of the exciting incident. This gallant exploit is treated pictorially by Rowlandson. Lord Charles Manners is taking the brook in an easy stride, his horse bearing him over 'like a bird,' while his ferocious-looking pursuers are brought to a full stop at the brink, and as the daring horseman is bidding farewell to the enemy they are nonplussed with astonishment at the reckless feat, which they have no ambition to follow. There is a disappointed knot of French officers, dragoons, huzzars, &c.; they are all uttering ejaculations of surprise and cursing the fugitive: 'Sacrebleu!' 'Mais comment, &c.'; 'Quel diable d'Anglois!' 'Est-il possible?'

December 2, 1811. A Man of Feeling for the Human Race. Published by T. Tegg (126).—Represents the college rooms of a Master of Arts and a Fellow of decidedly convivial tendencies, whose predilections appear to be the reverse of ascetic.

December 9, 1811. Bel and the Dragon. Published by Stockdale.—Doctor Bell, in wig, gown, cassock, and bands, is standing calmly before a very terrific pantomimic representation of a dragon. Before the Doctor—over whose head shines the glorious midday sun, figuratively set forth—is extended the buckler of Religion held by the stalwart arm of the Marsh Clergy of Monarchists. Dr. Bell is pointing triumphantly to his school, a dignified pile, founded on a commanding eminence, marked Church and State. Behind 'the Dragon' is the rival establishment, Lancaster's School under the Broad-brim System, raised on Deceit and Misrepresentation. The Dragon's tongue, labelled Falsehood, is pouring forth smoke and flames, and his claws, Hypocrisy, Vanity, Misrepresentation, and Calumny, are extended to maul the reputation of the opposition champion.

December 15, 1811. A Milk-sop. Published by T. Tegg (125).—A pretty milkmaid, with her yoke and cans, is passing the chambers of a gallant collegian at one of the Universities; the shameless undergraduate, in cap and gown, has waited his opportunity, and as the buxom wench is passing his open casement he is leaning out of window, throwing his arm round her buxom waist, and is indulging in a chaste salute, which is cordially received. A tutor, or proctor, dodging round 'the quad,' is horrified at the scandalous licence; a sturdy infant is carried in one of the pails, the other is filled with cream, and offers a rare opportunity for plunder, of which a passing dog is not slow to avail himself—raised on his hind legs he is lapping up the welcome fluid at his leisure.

1811. Royal Academy, Somerset House, London. Rowlandson fecit.—The members, who are studying from the nude, are all well advanced in years. The seats and drawing-stands of the old Life Academy are arranged in a horseshoe; the first or inner row of students being seated, while those who form the outer semicircle are standing at their easels. An agreeable and graceful-looking female model is posed beneath the reflectors in an easy attitude which she is preserving with the assistance of a looped rope slung from the roof.

1811. The Harmonic Society. (See October 2, 1810.) Republished.

1811. Miseries of Travelling. A Hailstorm. Designed by H. Bunbury, etched by T. Rowlandson.

1811. A Tutor and his Pupil, travelling in France, arriving at a Posting-house.

1811. The Departure of La Fleur. Vide Sterne's 'Sentimental Journey.' Designed by H. Bunbury, etched by T. Rowlandson.

1811 (?). Exhibition 'Stare' Case, Somerset House.—The staircase of the handsome buildings erected for Somerset House originally set apart for the Exhibition of the Royal Academy, is ridiculed as a scene of unequivocal confusion. Whether the dangers of the somewhat steep ascent were actually as hazardous as the artist has depicted is open to question. It will be remembered that Sir William Chambers, the architect, whose masterpiece was decidedly Somerset House, was a member of the Royal Academy, and held the office of Treasurer to that body. It was somewhat the fashion of the wits to laugh at the architect, who, as a foreigner, had received an amount of royal patronage which created certain jealousies in the minds of his English rivals, who were less favoured with the smiles of princes. Chambers' extravagant conceptions, the various novel designs he published, and particularly his marked taste for so-called Oriental gardening and the introduction of buildings after the Chinese fashion, exposed the project to an ordeal of the severest criticism and sarcasm. George the Third employed Sir William Chambers to lay out and adorn the Royal gardens at Kew, when the eminent Swede took advantage of the occasion to carry out the taste he had acquired in China [24]—an indulgence which subjected the architect to numerous well-merited satires. The famous 'Heroic Epistle to Sir William Chambers' was provoked on this occasion.

Peter Pindar, according to his custom, found various faults with the new pile of buildings in the Strand, and their shortcomings were pointed out with his habitual archness.

The scene of disaster and tumultuous medley which Rowlandson has ventured to introduce as attendant incidents of the Royal Academy staircase must have assisted, in some degree, to make this portion of the building a laughing-stock with the more frivolous portion of the frequenters.

The Editor acknowledges the situation is treated with a licence which, perhaps, may be held to verge on the inadmissible. It has been sufficiently difficult, in selecting these illustrations, to keep within the restrictions marked out by modern decorum, too chaste to endorse the broad jocularity which passed current half a century back. The mirth imported into Somerset House is not, however, of a licentious description; if the subject is treated with more freedom than is desirable, according to the juster ideas of our generation, at least its humours are innoxious and, we trust, guiltless of offence.

It is obvious that, in an instance like the present, the task becomes one of extreme delicacy; it is impossible to translate the caprices of the artist by any method short of the etching-needle; the mixed description of the spectacle and the spirit of the contretemps defy a mere verbal rendering; and the caricature is too excellent in other respects to be passed over in the present collection, which professes to give a general view of the artist's cleverest and most familiarly known examples. While avoiding instances the morality of which is absolutely questionable, it is evident that it would be impossible to treat of the actual history, let alone the novels and caricatures of our forefathers, or to venture on the merest enquiry into their familiar life, abroad or at home, unless we put prudery a little on one side.

1811. The Manager's Last Kick, or a New Way to Pay Old Debts. Published by T. Tegg (117).—An episode in theatrical management is made the subject of the present caricature. As is well known, pecuniary complications were occasionally attendant evils of carrying on theatrical enterprises, especially some half a century ago. Sheridan's monetary difficulties were notorious, and although the holders of writs had recourse to expedients without end to serve the slippery manager of Drury Lane, it is just to add that 'Sherry's' ingenuity was frequently equal to the emergency. During a rehearsal at Drury Lane a Sheriff's officer by some subterfuge gained admittance to the stage, and presented the manager with his objectionable scrip of parchment. Sheridan was by no means disconcerted, but made the process-server at home, asking his advice on various points; and finally, as the story goes, having thrown the man off his guard, he induced him to mount to the front of the house to give his opinion on the sounding properties of the building. 'Can you hear me?' asked Sheridan. 'Perfectly,' replied the man. 'Then,' said Sheridan, 'you had better lose no time in coming down again, and catch me if you can, for I'm off!' And before the disconcerted bailiff could find his way back to the stage his charge had succeeded in making good his retreat.

In The Manager's Last Kick, or a New Way to Pay Old Debts, the same principle is involved; in this case, however, just as the red tail writ is being served on the manager, a stage trap-door is suddenly let down, and the objectionable visitor is whisked off the scene. The wily lessee is bowing his fallen enemy out of sight with mock respect: 'Good morning, Mr. Catchpole; you'll find more of your tribe when you get to the bottom!'

No Date. (1811?). Preparing to Start. Published by T. Tegg (118).—There are jockeys within the ropes; the course is being cleared. The view is taken from the paddock opposite the grand stand. There are booths and tents for the sale of real Stingo, and horses are picketed on a hillside in the distance.

No Date. (1811?). Preparing for the Race. Published by T. Tegg.

1811 (?). Awkward Squads Studying the Graces. Published by T. Tegg (87). Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp.—Six stages, displaying the difficulties encountered by a French dancing master in labouring to instruct unconquerably clumsy and elderly pupils, who obviously possess no sort of aptitude for movement or grace.

1811. Hiring a Servant. Published by T. Tegg (124).—An elderly couple in a genteel station of life are seated at the breakfast-table; to them enters a simple country maiden, with a pretty and innocent face, her arms modestly folded, as an applicant for a place. 'What situation in my family would you wish to undertake, young woman?' enquires the lady of the house. 'Ma'am,' replies the unsophisticated maiden, 'I should like to be under your man-cook by way of improvement.' This naÏf remark is misconstrued, to the manifest delight of the fat chef, who is rolling about and rubbing his round sides with amusement.

1811 (?). Anglers of 1611. Designed by H. Bunbury, and etched by T. Rowlandson.—A pretty group, founded on the piscatorial pastoral of Izaak Walton. Venator is seated with his arm round the waist of the pretty milkmaid. Maudlin, her mother, a quaint old dame, is discoursing wisdom. Piscator is, with folded arms, leaning on his fishing-rod; at his feet are two fine trout. Peter is whipping a stream in the rear. The scenery is pretty, and the figures are neatly and expressively filled in. The design, which is by Bunbury, it is easy to recognise has gained considerable force from the spirited execution his contemporary has brought to bear on the etching. Companion to Anglers of 1811.

1811. Anglers of 1811. Designed by H. Bunbury, etched by T. Rowlandson.

1811. Patience in a Punt. Designed by H. Bunbury, etched by T. Rowlandson.

1811 (?). A Templar at his Studies. Published by T. Tegg.—The chambers of a fast member of the Bar; breakfast is on the table, and the apartment is in a litter of bottles, hunting-boots, guns, whips, law-books, briefs, papers, and general disorder. The student has evidently been to a masquerade overnight; portions of the dress of a Grand Turk are scattered about; moreover a lady is in his chambers, who is performing her toilette at a gilt mirror standing on his breakfast-table. The Templar, semi-clad, is sleepily trying to look through a bundle of briefs and law papers.

1811. A Family Piece. (The Portrait Painter.) Designed by H. Bunbury, engraved by T. Rowlandson.

1811. A Barber's Shop. H. Bunbury del., Rowlandson sculp.—Two customers, already polished off, are putting on their cravats at the glass, and a stout old gentleman is in a shaving-chair having his hair dressed. A brace of dogs are quarrelling over a wig, which they are worrying like a rat and pulling different ways. A client is being lathered and is under operation, while a gentleman, who has been shaved, is wiping off the remains of the soapsuds. This design, one of the latest due to the hand of the gifted Henry Bunbury, [25] was also engraved on a larger scale by James Gillray: it was the last plate upon which he was able to work, and it proceeded but slowly, being touched in rare lucid intervals as his increasing madness permitted.

The etching, as executed by Gillray, bears the date 1811 in one corner, and to this is added the date of its deferred publication, May 15, 1818. The title given on the folio engraving is Interior of a Barber's Shop in Assize Time. The great caricaturist carried this plate, the last work on copper by the hand of Gillray, as notified upon the print, so far as his intermittent returns of reason would allow him. As Gillray died June 1, 1815, when the plate was evidently unfinished, this is probably one of the caricaturist's coppers which, as we have already related, were handed to George Cruikshank, another departed worthy, to complete. The unexpected death of the veteran has prevented the writer verifying this circumstance, although it is probably one of the plates—probably the most important as to size—which Cruikshank held in recollection when he informed the writer he considered that the most flattering testimonial which had been paid him in his long life was being selected, while a young man, to complete the engravings Gillray had left unfinished under the painful circumstances of his mental aberration, as already detailed. (See The Works of James Gillray, the Caricaturist, with the Story of his Life and Times, page 19, Introduction; and, further, the reduced engraving, from this plate (1811), page 370, the Works).

1811 (?). Modern Antiques.—The cabinet of an antiquarian, richly filled with supposititious relics of the past. On a shelf is a row of Etruscan vases; bacchic masks and terminal gods are ranged on the walls; the chief features of the collection are a gathering of Egyptian deities and some magnificent sarcophagi. The satire, in some degree, seems to hint at Sir William Hamilton (then deceased) and the fair Emma.

An old antiquary, decrepit and bent, is peering at the shapely proportions of an Egyptian figure bearing a close resemblance to life. The chief incident of the picture is centred in a mummy's coffin, tenanted for the time, like a sentry-box, by a gallant young officer, who is embraced, behind the lid of his temporary resting-place, by a lady, who, like all the beauties designed by the artist, is represented of fine proportions and somewhat free graces. The inamorata has thrown down a work which she has evidently studied to some purpose, Loves of the Gods—embellished with cuts, and she is taking the opportunity to make a practical application of her readings.

1811. Munchausen at Walcheren. Plates by Rowlandson.

1811. Chesterfield Burlesqued. Published by T. Tegg. 12mo. (See Chesterfield Travestie, 1808.)