Part 7 (1/2)
1818. EVACUATION OF FRANCE.
Undoubtedly the most important event of the year 1818 was the congress of the allied sovereigns at Aix-la-Chapelle, and the evacuation of France which followed. By the second treaty of Paris, the stay of the occupying armies had been fixed at a period of five years; but by an official note, dated the 4th of November, 1818, the ministers of Austria, Great Britain, Russia, and Prussia, referring to the engagements entered into by the French Government with the subscribing powers to that treaty, stated that such Government had fulfilled all the clauses of the treaty, and proposed, ”with respect to those clauses, the fulfilment of which was reserved for more remote periods, arrangements which were satisfactory” to the contracting parties. Under these circ.u.mstances the sovereigns resolved that the military occupation of France should forthwith be discontinued.
On the 7th of November, the Duke of Wellington, commander-in-chief of the army of occupation, issued an order of the day, taking leave of the troops under his command, which concluded in the following terms:--
”It is with regret that the general has seen the moment arrive when the dissolution of this army was to put an end to his public connections and his private relations with the commanders and other officers of the corps of the army. The field marshal deeply feels how agreeable these relations have been to him. He begs the generals commanding in chief to receive and make known to the troops under their orders, the a.s.surance that he shall never cease to take the most lively interest in everything that may concern them; and that the remembrance of the three years during which he has had the honour to be at their head, will be always dear to him.”
Wellington appears to have received particular marks of distinction from the Emperor Alexander; but what may have been the particular t.i.ttle tattle which led up to the caricature we shall next describe, we are now unable to fathom. That it grew out of the event which we have attempted to describe will be sufficiently obvious. It is ent.i.tled, _A Russian Dandy at Home; a scene at Aix-la-Chapelle_, and was published by Fores in December, 1818. In it, the satirist shows us the Duke arrayed in the regimentals of a Russian general, part of which comprise a pair of jack-boots considerably too large for him, a fact which amuses the Emperor and certain English and Cossack officers at his back. The following doggerel appended to the satire affords an explanation of its meaning:--
”It is said that the head of the forces allied, Not having a coat to his back, A generous monarch the needful supplied; And when thus equipped, they sat down side by side, To drink their champagne and their sack.
Now, doubtless this hero of wonderful note, Had the monarch allowed him to choose, Would have bartered the honour to sit in his coat, For the pleasure to stand in his shoes.”
QUEEN CHARLOTTE.
A well-drawn caricature, published by Fores in February, 1818, and ent.i.tled, _A Peep at the Pump Room, or the Zomersets.h.i.+re Folks in a Maze_, shows us a singularly ugly old woman habited in a wonderful bonnet, and clothes of antiquated make and fas.h.i.+on, drinking the Bath waters in the midst of a circle of deeply interested and curious gazers.
This poor old woman, who looks very like an old nurse, is no less a person than Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Queen of George the Third, who, in failing health and rapidly drawing towards the close of her earthly pilgrimage, had been recommended by her physicians to try the effect of the Bath waters. The excitement which this event occasioned in the then gay, but now decayed western city, is thus referred to by Mrs. Piozzi in two of her contemporary letters to Sir James Fellowes: ”The queen has driven us all distracted; such a bustle Bath never witnessed before. She drinks at the Pump Room, purposes going to say her prayers at the Abbey Church, and a box is making up for her at the theatre.” And again: ”Of the cl.u.s.ters in the Pump Room who _swarm_ round Queen Charlotte, as if she were actually the queen bee, courtiers must give you an account.” At the back of Her Majesty's chair stands the portly figure of the Duke of Clarence, who recommends the old lady to qualify the water (which is evidently very distasteful to her) with a little brandy. ”George and I,” he adds, ”always recommend brandy.” A fat, well favoured woman in a flower-pot bonnet, with a gin bottle in her hand, on the other hand recommends the old queen to qualify the Bath water with a dash of ”Old Tom,” advice which is seconded by the old woman next her. Behind this last stands the physician, watch in hand, watching, and moreover predicting in very plain terms, the expected action of the medicated water. The folks behind make their observations on the old lady's appearance. ”Well, I declare,” says one, ”I see nothing extraordinary to look at.” ”Why, she doant look a bit better than oul granny,” remarks a country joskin. ”Who said she did, eh, dame?” replies her companion. Poor old Queen Charlotte was never a beauty, and those who remember her exaggerated likenesses in the satires of Gillray, will not fail to recognise her in the present satire. One of her well-known habits is referred to by the snuff-box which lies at her feet.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Published February, 1818, by_ S. W. FORES, _50, Piccadilly_
A PEEP INTO THE PUMP-ROOM, OR THE ZOMERSETs.h.i.+RE FOLK IN A MAZE.
_Face p. 57._]
The poor old lady was beyond the help of the Bath waters or of any earthly a.s.sistance. We find Mrs. Piozzi writing a few months later on: ”Nothing kills the queen, however. It is really a great misfortune to be kept panting for breath so, and screaming with pain by medical skill: were she a subject, I suppose they would have released her long ago; but diseases and distresses of the human frame must lead to death at length,” which was the case with the poor old queen, who died nine months after the date of the satire (in November, 1818).
The announcement of the marriages of four of her children this year, viz.: of the Princess Elizabeth to Frederick, Landgrave of Hesse Homburg; of Edward Augustus, Duke of Kent, to Victoria, daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg (and mother of Queen Victoria), on the 29th of May; of Adolphus Frederick, Duke of Cambridge, to Augusta, daughter of the Landgrave of Hesse, on the 1st of May; and of William Henry, Duke of Clarence (afterwards William the Fourth), to Adelaide, daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, on the 11th of July, gave rise to a coa.r.s.e though admirably executed caricature ent.i.tled, _The Homburg Waltz, with Characteristic Sketches of Family Dancing_, in which all these royal personages, with the Regent at their head, are seen prominently figuring amongst the dancers.
INVENTION OF THE KALEIDOSCOPE.
A forgotten but ingenious instrument, the kaleidoscope, was invented by Sir David Brewster in 1818. The leading principles of the toy appear to have been accidentally discovered in the course of a series of experiments on the polarization of light by successive reflections between plates of gla.s.s. The invention of this now despised toy made a tremendous sensation at the time, and the inventor was induced to take out a patent for its protection; but he had, it appears, divulged the secret of its construction before he had secured the invention to himself, and the consequence was that, although ”it made a hundred shopmen rich,” it brought the inventor himself but little substantial benefit. This is explained by the fact that it was so simple in construction, that even when made without scientific accuracy, it served to delight as well as to amuse. So largely was it pirated, that it was calculated that no fewer than two hundred thousand were sold in three months in London and Paris alone. Judging by a caricature of Williams's, published by Fores in June, 1818, and its doggerel explanation, the toys would appear even at this time to have been made and sold by every street boy. The satire is called, _Caleidoscopes, or Paying for Peeping_. In it, we see the pertinacious vendors pus.h.i.+ng the sale of their wares upon the pa.s.sengers in the streets--many of them women. A bishop resolves to buy one because the coloured gla.s.s reminds him of a painted window in his cathedral, another person has paid dearly for ”peeping,” and discovers that while gratifying his curiosity, his ”pocket-book has slipped off with two hundred pounds in it.” Williams was a satirist of the old school, and the allusions made by some of the vendors render this otherwise interesting satire wantonly coa.r.s.e and indelicate. Attached to this rare and curious production is the following doggerel:--
”'Tis the favourite plaything of school-boy and sage, Of the baby in arms and the baby of age; Of the grandam whose sight is at best problematical, And of the soph who explains it by rule mathematical.
Such indeed is the rage for them, chapel or church in, You see them about you, and each little urchin Finding a sixpence, with transport beside his hope, Runs to the tin-man and makes a caleidoscope!”
1819. THE HOBBY.
Another invention made its appearance in 1819: this was the _velocipede_, or as it was then called ”the hobby,” the grandfather of the bicycle and tricycle of our day. A tall gawky perched on the summit of a lofty bicycle, with an enormous wheel gyrating between a couple of spindle shanks capped with enormous crab-sh.e.l.ls, is a sufficiently familiar and ridiculous object in our times; but the appearance presented by the people of 1819, who adopted the spider looking thing called a ”hobby,” was so intensely comical that it gave rise to a perfect flood of caricatures. The best of these we have personally met with is one ent.i.tled, _The Spirit Moving the Quakers upon Worldly Vanities_, a skit upon the Society of Friends (published by J. T.
Sidebotham). The scene is laid in front of a ”Society of Friends Meeting House,” and numerous ”Friends” of both s.e.xes are busily engaged in exercising their hobbies. In the foreground, a broad-brimmed young ”Friend” gives ardent and amorous chase to a lovely Quakeress, who, apparently disinclined to encourage his advances, urges her steed to its utmost speed, and makes frantic endeavours to get out of his way.
DEPRESSION IN TRADE.
The internal condition of the country this year (1819) gave cause for much anxiety. Pecuniary distress, owing to the depression in trade, was almost universal. This state of things, as might have been expected, was taken advantage of by the popular agitators for their own purposes; and the people, under their encouragement, as in the two previous years, continued to give audible expression to their dissatisfaction at meetings, and through the medium of publications more or less of a seditious character. The miserable outlook gave rise (among others) to a pair of caricatures, published by Fores on the 9th of January, _John Bull in Clover_, and (by way of contrast), _John Bull Done Over_. In the first, fat John is enjoying himself with his pipe and his gla.s.s; the sleek condition of his dog shows that it shares in the comforts of its master's prosperity. John, in fact, has what our Transatlantic cousins call ”a good time;” scattered over the floor lie invoices of goods despatched by him to customers in Spain, in Russia, in America. Beneath a portrait of ”Good Queen Bess,” John has pinned several of his favourite ballads: ”The Land we live in,” ”Oh, the Roast Beef of Old England!” ”May we all live the days of our life.” In _John Bull Done Over_, a very different picture is presented to our notice. The whole of John's fat is gone; he sits, a lean, starving, tattered, shoeless object in a bottomless chair, the embodiment of human misery. In place of his invoices lie the _Gazette_, which announces his bankruptcy, and a number of tradesmen's bills; on the back of his chair is coiled a rope, and on the table before him a razor lies on a treatise on suicide,--John in fact is debating by what mode he shall put an end to his existence. An onion and some water in a broken jug are the only articles of sustenance he has to depend on. The tax gatherer, who has made a number of fruitless calls, looks through the broken panes to ascertain if John is really ”at home.” On the wall, in place of the picture of ”Good Queen Bess,” hangs a portrait of John Bellingham, the a.s.sa.s.sin of Spencer Perceval; and in lieu of his once joyous ballads, such doleful ditties as ”Oh, dear, what can the matter be!” ”There's nae luck about the house,” and so on. The poor dog, grown like his master a lean and pitiable object, vainly appeals to him for food.
”England's hope”[21]--the darling of the nation--the amiable and interesting Princess Charlotte, whose loss is still lamented after the lapse of more than half a century, died in childbirth on the 6th of November, 1817; but on the 24th of May, 1819, was born, at Kensington Palace, another amiable and august princess, whose life has been most happily spared to us--her present Majesty Queen Victoria. To show that the influence of the last century caricaturists had not yet left us, this auspicious event immediately gave rise to a coa.r.s.e caricature,[22]
published by Fores, and labelled, _A Scene in the New Farce called the Rivals, or a Visit to the Heir Presumptive_, in which the scurrilous satirist depicts the supposed mortification and jealousy of other members of the royal family. Her Majesty's father, the Duke of Kent, died nine months afterwards, on the 23rd of January, 1820.