1813. _Poetical Sketches of Scarborough._ Text signed 'J. P.' (J. B.

Papworth), text initialled 'W.' (Rev. Francis Wrangham), and anonymous text written by William Combe. The titlepage runs thus:--'_Poetical Sketches of Scarborough. Illustrated by twenty-one engravings of humorous subjects. Coloured from original designs made upon the spot by J. Green, and etched by T. Rowlandson._ London: Printed for R. Ackermann, 101 Strand. 1813.' 'Advertisement.--The originals of the plates introduced in this volume were sketches made as _souvenirs_ of the place during a visit to Scarborough in the season of 1812. They were not intended for publication; but being found to interest many persons of taste, several of whom expressed a desire to possess engravings of them, and some gentlemen having offered to add metrical illustrations to each, the present form of publication has been adopted. 'The several authors were not personally acquainted with each other. If this circumstance, and that of every design having been made previously to the composition of a single couplet, be considered fair ground of extenuation for faults, they claim its advantages.' _Illustrations._ Frontispiece.--Widow Ducker, and her Nymphs. A Trip to Scarbro'. (The Coach upset in a Duckpond.) (York.) The Breakfast. (Parlour of the 'Old Bell Inn.') The Spa. (Spa Well Stairs.) Spa Terrace. Boot and Shoe Shop. The Castle (and North Shore). The Warm Bath. Cornelian Bay. Sea Bathing. A Drive on the Sands (Newby and Scalby). The Church and Churchyard. The Shower Bath. The Library. The Promenade. The Theatre. The Ball-room. The Terrace Steps. The Water Party.--Wet Quakers. The Post Office. The Departure. _August 16, 1813._ _The Tour of Doctor Syntax in Search of the Picturesque. A Poem._ Illustrations drawn and etched by T. Rowlandson. [Dr. Syntax originally appeared, in parts, in the _Poetical Magazine_.] Frontispiece.--The Rev. Dr. Syntax. The Rev. Dr. Syntax Setting out on his Tour to the Lakes. " " Losing his way. " " Stopped by Highwaymen. " " Bound to a Tree by Highwaymen. The Rev. Dr. Syntax Disputing his Bill with the Landlady. " " Copying the Wit of the Window. " " Entertained at College. " " Pursued by a Bull. " " Mistakes a Gentleman's House for an Inn. " " among the Tombstones. " " Tumbling into the Water. " " Loses his Money on the Raceground at York. " " at a Review. " " with my Lord. " " made Free of the Cellar. " " Sketching the Lakes. " " Drawing after Nature. " " Robbed of his property. " " Sells his horse 'Grizzle.' " " Rural Sports. " " with the Dairymaid. " " at Liverpool. " " Reading his Tour. " " Preaching. " " with the Bookseller. " " at Covent Garden Theatre. The Doctor's Dream: 'The Battle of the Books.' The Rev. Dr. Syntax returned from his Tour. " " taking Possession of his Living. 1814. _January 1, 1814._ _The Double Humbug, or the Devil's Imp Praying for Peace._ Published by R. Ackermann.--In two compartments: _Napoleon before his Slaves_, and _Napoleon before his Conquerors_. The first view represents the Senate; the Emperor is standing on his throne, which is propped upon the crowns of conquered kingdoms; his dark friend, the Devil, is leaning over the back of the Imperial chair and prompting the specious harangue which Napoleon is addressing to the senators, who do not seem to be much interested in the proclamation, and, on the whole, according to the artist's showing, look very like a body of imbeciles. _Extracts from Buonaparte's Speech. Sunday, December 19, 1813._--'Senators, Councillors of State, Deputies from the Departments to the Legislative Body,--Splendid victories have raised the glory of the French arms during this campaign. In these weighty circumstances it was my first thought to call you all around me. I have never been seduced by prosperity; I have conceived and executed great designs for the prosperity and the happiness of the world. As a monarch and a father, I feel that peace adds to the security of thrones and that of families. I have accepted proposals and the preliminaries. It is necessary to recruit my armies by numerous levies, and an increase of taxes becomes indispensable. I am satisfied with the sentiments of my people of Italy, Denmark, Naples, America, and the nineteen Swiss Cantons, and have acknowledged the laws which England has in vain sought, during four centuries, to impose on France. I have ordered discharges of artillery on my coming and leaving you.' The other side of the picture displays the fallen Emperor under an entirely opposite aspect; this time he has to confront his enemies, and a totally changed demeanour is adopted. The Corsican is on his knees; before him is his sword, a pile of standards, and the diadems he had abstracted from numerous crowned heads; the crown of France he has tucked under his arm; all the rest he is offering to restore to his enemies, the rightful owners, who have mustered in force and are completely masters of the situation. The attitudes of the Allies are expressive of their indignation at 'Boney's' shameful avowals; while Talleyrand, on his lame leg, in the greatest trepidation at the dangers which face him, is offering to swear to the truth of the damaging admissions which his master has found it expedient to make, since falsehood will not serve him in this quarter. 'Gentlemen, Emperors, Rhenish Confederations, &c., &c., &c.,--Behold before you a fallen impostor, who has for many years been drunk and intoxicated with ambition, arrogance, and insolence; who has deceived, cheated, and tricked you on many occasions; who has foolishly and wickedly lost, within a twelvemonth, a million of brave but deluded Frenchmen; who has conceived the great and diabolical design of enslaving the world, and has lost all his friends except Yankee Maddison. Now, gentlemen, to make amends for my sins, I solicit your pardon and ask for peace on your own terms, gentlemen, and I will strictly adhere to it till.... You may take all those crowns back again, except the one belonging to the Bourbons. My Empress sends you also back the twenty flags I found in some of the churches, in the course of my flight from Leipzig. As for the story, gentlemen, of the corporal and the blowing up of the bridge, you must know 'twas mere humbug to gull the lads of Paris.' _January 1, 1814._ _Death and Buonaparte._ Published at Ackermann's Repository.--The Corsican, who had faced and conquered Fate on so many fields of battle, is at length confronted with the grim foe under circumstances which lend additional terrors to his proximity. The reverses which overtook the conqueror at Leipzig are already threatening the downfall of that intrepid will and shaking a self-possession hitherto imperturbable. Rowlandson has taken advantage of the thickening disasters, which had then commenced to check the prowess of the Emperor's armies, to represent the Corsican in a fit of despondency, forlorn and abstracted, seated on a drum in an attitude of dejection, with his head between his hands, staring in the face of the King of Terrors, of whose close company he is seemingly too self-occupied to take much heed. The grim destroyer, as the skeleton Death, is watching the baffled general face to face, assuming a parody of his attitude, and seated on a gun, with a broken eagle standard at his bony feet. The Russian, Austrian, Prussian, Bavarian, and other allied armies are streaming along in unbroken hosts, scattering the dismayed legions of France, and making havoc amidst the ranks of the discouraged Grand Army, which is melting away before the combined forces. _The transparency exhibited at Ackermann's Repository_ (See Nov. 5, 1813) _on the occasion of the illuminations for the victory of Leipzig_. _January, 1814._ _Madame Véry, Restaurateur, Palais Royal, Paris._ T. N. del., Rowlandson sculp. (348). _January, 1814._ _La Belle Limonadière au Café des Mille Colonnes. Palais Royal, Paris._ T. N. del., Rowlandson sculp. _Café des Mille Colonnes--'Dance of Life.'_ This sober verse, this tranquil strain, Were it to strive, would strive in vain That in its couplets should be shown The Café of the Mille Colonnes. The pencil gives a better ken Of its fair Queen--for, ah, no pen Can paint her glory's grand design, At least an earth-made pen like mine; I therefore leave it as 'tis done, To the rare skill of ROWLANDSON; By whose enliv'ning, vivid touch, To which this volume owes so much, The lady's splendour will survive When all her graces cease to live, And the proud mirrors shall no more Reflect her beauties ten times o'er; Or when another takes her chair, Not half so fat, if half as fair. [Illustration: MADAME VÉRY.] An extract from Planta's 'New Picture of Paris' is added by way of footnote: 'The Café des Mille Colonnes is in the Palais Royal, and receives its title from the beautiful gilt columns which are reflected by enormous mirrors, disposed with such skill that they appear to be at least a thousand. The room presents an overwhelming glare of decoration. The priestess, or rather the divinity, of this luxurious temple is unrivalled among these places of public entertainment for the charms of her person, the splendour of her dress, and the elegance of her manners. The elevated seat which she occupies was once the throne of the Viceroy of Italy, and was purchased by the proprietor of the coffee-house for the exorbitant sum of twelve thousand livres.' [Illustration: LA BELLE LIMONADIÈRE.] _January 30, 1814._ _Quarter Day, or Clearing the Premises, without consulting your Landlord._ Published by T. Tegg (318).--A cart has been driven to the door of a certain residence, and the ladies of the establishment are hastily heaping all the contents of the house--furniture, bedding, culinary, and other utensils--indiscriminately into the conveyance. _February 10, 1814._ _Kicking up a Breeze, or Barrow-women Basting a Beadle._ Published by T. Tegg (310).--The beadle of a provision market, who has laid hands on the barrow of a seller of black puddings, has been seized by the nose, in a fashion to blind both eyes at once, by a muscular female, to whom the overturned barrow belongs; her stalwart right arm and massive fist at the same time are making energetic play on the person of the discomfited functionary, who has become, from some act of interference on his part, the centre of a general attack; a dog is threatening his legs, and a hag is belabouring his rear with her basket. Butchers and poulterers' men are enjoying the diversion. [Illustration: THE PROGRESS OF GALLANTRY.] _February 14, 1814._ _Progress of Gallantry, or Stolen Kisses Sweetest._ Published by T. Tegg (313). [Illustration: A TAILOR'S WEDDING.] _February 20, 1814._ _A Tailor's Wedding._ Published by T. Tegg (315). _March 1, 1814._ _Crimping a Quaker._ Published by T. Tegg (317, originally published as 261). [Illustration: CRIMPING A QUAKER.] _March 2, 1814._ _Head Runner of Runaways from Leipzig Fair._ Published by R. Ackermann, Strand.--The Emperor Napoleon, dressed in the simple and familiar habit by which his figure is best recognised, the little cocked hat, the green coat, buttoned across the chest, the white waistcoat and breeches, is tearing his hardest towards 'Maynz' and the Rhine; a frightened hare, suggestive of the Imperial courage, is scampering before him and marking the way. The 'little Corporal' carries, instead of a walking-stick, the effigy of the great Emperor of Germany, _Carolus Magnus_, at the head of a pole. On his back is a pack, from which the various collections he had previously gathered are suffered to escape: Italy, Holland, Switzerland, Rheinland, Hanstat Département, Poland; paper prints of soldiers, _Alte Garde_ and _Junge Garde_--are blowing away and being left behind in the flight. _March 12, 1814._ _The Devil's Darling._ Published by R. Ackermann.--The Dark Fiend in person, drawn on a tremendous scale, with his claws, horns, hoofs, tail, and terror-striking accessories, is seated on his sulphurous floor, cradling and dandling his pet progeny, '_Little Boney_;' the figure of the Corsican is wrapped up like a mummy in swaddling-clothes, bound round with tricolor ribands; the face is alone exposed; and his Infernal Majesty is contemplating the calm, thoughtful, wax mask-like countenance of his reputed vicegerent on earth with earnest attention; his own features are wearing an expression which is at least threatening; the Legion of Honour, instituted by the Emperor, is held out by the apocryphal fiend as a bauble to tempt the spoiled child in his lap. _April 9, 1814._ _Blucher the Brave extracting the Groan of Abdication from the Corsican Bloodhound._ Published by T. Tegg (322).--The Corsican has been run down; the sturdy figure of the indomitable General Blucher is shown acting as his executioner. Having come up with the enemy and beaten him, the general is shaking the bloodhound out of his trappings; sword, diadem, and habit are cast aside, and the creature is swinging in the Prussian's iron grasp, a mere frightened cur, with nothing of the dreaded 'Boney' left but his head. A boat is on the shore, and the fugitive, _Brother Joe_, the rejected 'intrusive King' of Spain, in mortal terror is running his hardest to embark for the Island of Elba; the boatman is loading in the future provision, £20,000 a year, the income decreed the Corsican for his new state. Besides the deportation of the Buonapartes another scene is transpiring: Louis the Eighteenth, a portly and good-natured-looking sovereign, is received with acclamations from all sides, while his friends the Allies discreetly remain in the rear; the white flag of the Bourbons, with its _fleur de lis_, is waving over the restored descendant of St. Louis; the monarch's legitimate crown is restored, and the figure of Peace personified is adding a laurel wreath; Churchmen and some of 'Nap's' old servants are offering their homage, and the wily Talleyrand has apparently 'ratted' judiciously at the critical moment, as the change of masters has not displaced the veteran diplomatist, and he is waiting on the King with a new 'list of ministers for your Majesty's approval.' _April 12, 1814._ _Coming in at the Death of the Corsican Fox. Scene the Last._ Published by R. Ackermann.--Neither the subject nor its title are altogether original, as, some six years previously, Rowlandson's contemporary, James Gillray, had chosen to illustrate the reverses which had attended the French arms in Spain by a similar cartoon, in which George the Third appeared as the huntsman, holding out the carcass of the Corsican fox. Both conceptions, in these instances, as subsequent events proved, were somewhat premature as far as the conclusiveness of the performance was concerned. Prince Blucher, the valiant old trooper, has taken the lead of the field; he has dismounted from his horse, whose bridle he is holding in his left hand, while his right is locked round the throat of the Fox, who is struggling and clawing vainly to get free; 'Boney's' face is turning the pallid hue of deadly fear in sight of the eager pack of hounds, which are showing their teeth and leaping forward to rend the vermin to fragments; the dogs are of good strain; on their collars may be read the names of those generals who finally outwitted the Corsican--Wellington, Swartzenberg, Kutusoff, Platoff, Crown Prince, York, &c., &c. The allied Emperors and Kings are riding down to be 'in at the death,' and in the distance are seen burning towns, which have been recently devastated by the ravages of the Corsican in his career of ambition. _April 12, 1814._ _Bloody Boney, the Carcass Butcher, left off Trade and Retiring to Scarecrow Island._ Published by T. Tegg (323).--The exiled general is reduced from his state; he is meanly travelling Elbawards, and has reached the seashore, whence he is to embark for his island residence. A gibbet by the way, with a rope in readiness, is serving as a fingerpost to point the road; vultures, which fly round this suggestive object, express a desire to pick the bones of the retiring 'carcass butcher.' All the splendours of 'Boney's' surroundings are stripped bare; he is riding on a rough-coated donkey, and wearing a 'fool's cap' in place of a crown; his only provision is a bag of brown bread; his consort, loose and ragged, is seated at the crupper on the same beast, which is being unmercifully flogged with a stick labelled '_Bâton Marcéchal_;' 'Boney' is lost in terror; his juvenile heir, lately made King of Rome, is preceding the _cortége_, mounted on a 'Corsican dog.' A French postilion, of the old school, is jumping about for joy, in his huge bucket-like jack-boots, flourishing his whip, and rejoicing to see the backs of the usurping Corsican and his party: 'Be gar, you _coquin_, now I shall drive my old friends and _bonnes_ customers _de_ English. _Vive le Roi et la Poste Royale!_' _April 15, 1814._ _The Rogue's March._ Published by T. Tegg (321). From fickle Fortune's gamesome lap What various titles flow! The Emperor of Conj'rors, Nap, The King of Beggars, Joe! General Prince Blucher is leading off the two convicts; a halter is round 'Boney's' neck; he has donkey's ears, and is made to wear a fool's cap, inscribed, 'Transported for life;' his face bears a look of terror and degradation as he is dragged forward by his merciless conductor, handcuffed to his brother Joe, 'ex-King of the Beggars,' who is branded 'Coward and Thief.' A scorpion, 'Execration,' is fastening on to 'Boney's' person; and another reptile, 'Detestation,' is spitting venom at his less conspicuous relative. The exiled convicts are being conducted past a file of Prussian Guards, and the drums are beating the 'Rogue's March.' Their leader, Blucher, bears a long quarter-master's staff, with a proclamation setting forth: 'Napoleon, late Emperor of the French, King of Italy, Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine; Grand Arbiter of the Fate of Nations, &c., &c., &c., but now, by the permission of the Allied Sovereigns, exile in the Isle of Elba, an outcast from society, a fugitive, a vagabond. Yet this is the conceited mortal who said, "I have never been seduced by prosperity; adversity will not be able to overcome me!"' A contrast to the crestfallen Bonapartes is offered in the restored Bourbons. A flagpole is set up, and the old royal standards are unfurled: 'Rejoice, O ye Kings! _Vive le Roi!_' The sovereigns of Europe once more enjoy the opportunity of wearing their crowns in peace; and the allied monarchs are shown, in their royal robes, with all their splendours restored, dancing hand-in-hand in a ring round their combined escutcheons: 'Now we are met, a jolly set, in spite of wind or weather!' _April 17, 1814._ _The Affectionate Farewell, or Kick for Kick._ Published by R. Ackermann.--Buonaparte is being driven from France; it is clear that his presence there, after the settlement of his abdication, was a source of embarrassment while waiting for an opportunity to sail for his new island kingdom. The late Imperial Chancellor is the most eager to be rid of his disgraced master; the 'minister of expediency' is menacing the flying enemy; in one hand he holds the deed of expatriation, 'Abdication, or the last dying speech of a murderer--who is to be delivered into the hands of the Devil the first fair wind.' 'Tally' is attacking his ancient confederate 'Boney' with his club-foot and his crutch simultaneously: '_Va t'en coquin._ I'll crack your crown, you pitiful vagabond;' to which the flying exile, with his hat held in hand as a mark of respect to his new master, is responding with humility: '_Votre très humble serviteur, Monsieur Tally_.' A gibbet, with its noose ready, is pointing to the 'Isle of Elba.' Seen in the distance is the 'Boney' family, there receiving the elevation which they have merited, all the members being collectively exalted on a gallows. The victims of 'Boney's' successive campaigns and actions without cessation, invalids whose limbs have been lost in his wars, are rushing up as fast as their maimed condition will permit, flourishing their crutches and unstrapping their wooden legs, as offensive weapons wherewith to avenge their injuries, crying: 'Bone him, my tight little Tally;' while an invalid with one arm is waiting for the flying general at the place of embarkation: 'What! let him sneak off without a mark or a scratch? No, no, I'll darken his daylights for him!' _April 20, 1814._ _A Delicate Finish to a French Usurper._ Published by J. Asperne, 60 Cornhill. Boney, canker of our joys, now thy tyrant reign is o'er. Fill the merry bowl, my boys, join in bacchanalian roar. Seize the villain, plunge him in--see, the hated miscreant dies. Mirth, and all thy train, come in; banish sorrow, tears, and sighs! The events which followed Leipzig are bearing their fruit; the heads of the Coalition have been called in, and 'Boney' is being subjected to rigorous treatment; he is seated on a throne constructed of skeletons and skulls, wrapped round with the Imperial purple, powdered with his emblems; but the bees are taking flight and forsaking their _protégé_; Field Marshal Prince Blucher is offering the sufferer, who is sick in extremity, a huge goblet to be quaffed to the dregs--'Blucher's black draught.' The crown and sceptre of tyranny and all the 'Corsican's' conquests, Portugal, Vienna, Poland, Milan, Spain, Rome, Moscow, Holland, Switzerland, Vienna, Saxony, Florence, Dantzig, &c., have been disgorged. The figure of Father Time has winged his way to reckon with the usurper; his hourglass is held aloft, and with a golden extinguisher Time is about to snuff Boney out. Wellington, the Emperor Alexander of Russia, the Emperor of Austria, and the Crown Prince are in attendance to see the last of their troublesome enemy. France is once more freed, joyful and smiling; the labours of agriculture are resumed, and three symbolical nymphs are executing a joyful dance appropriate for the occasion, and supporting the arms of the restored Bourbons. _April 25, 1814._ _Nap Dreading his doleful Doom, or his grand entry into the Isle of Elba._ Published by T. Tegg (328).--The general has arrived in his island kingdom, according to the satirist; the ship which conveyed the abdicated monarch is riding in the bay; Boney's luggage has just been set on the shore by a smaller craft; a single guard, one of the Mamelukes, is sitting disconsolately by the diminished effects of his master. The somewhat squalid inhabitants, Nap's future subjects, are crowding down the rocks with vulgar curiosity, pressing onwards through a narrow pass leading to the shore; they seem inclined to ridicule the deserted state of their distinguished guest, who is plunged into dejection at his prospects. Woe is me, seeing what I have seen, And seeing what I see! A coarse stout female is patting the exile familiarly on the back and offering him her pipe by way of hospitality: 'Come, cheer up, my little Nicky; I'll be your Empress!' _May 1, 1814._ _The Tyrant of the Continent is Fallen; Europe is Free; England Rejoices._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The 'Corsican' is exposed to a worse fate than fell to Belshazzar; his conquests are taken from him, the throne of state is overset, the Imperial purple is stripped from his shoulders, the diadem and sceptre have fallen; the sovereignties, crowns, and dignities which were his playthings are swept away; the once almost master of the world is now in a desperate strait; his person is seized by the Father of Evil, who is claiming his due; the presence of the Foul Fiend has disturbed Napoleon less than the hand of Fate: 'Empire and victory be all forsaken to plagues, poverty, disgrace, and shame. Strip me of all my dignities and crowns. Take oh take your sceptres back. Spare me but life!' An arm of vengeance, appearing from the clouds, has effectually paralysed the faculties of the conscience-smitten conqueror; a flaming sword is hanging over his devoted head, and a voice of terror is proclaiming retribution:-- Thou'rt doom'd to pains at which the damn'd will tremble, And take their own for joys. _May 1, 1814._ _Boney turned Moralist._ Published by R. Ackermann.--1. _What I was--a cruel tyrant._ The Emperor is shown in all his glory of empire and conquest, his back to the Palace of the Tuileries, and dressed in the robes of state, the purple mantle on his shoulders, the diadem on his head, the orb and sceptre in his hands; his feet raised on crowns of vanquished kings, and potentates enslaved to prop his state.