Masters of Caricature: Thomas Rowlandson

Thomas Rowlandson (1757-1827) was a prolific English caricaturist of the Georgian Age. His cartoons and prints encompassed politics, personality, social life, medicine, death, and other topics both contemporary and timeless. He produced large numbers of illustrations for books, both fiction and non-fiction. 

Many of Rowlandson's published works are bawdy and erotic, certainly by later Victorian standards. His unpublished works included more explicit erotica, which he created for private individuals. 

"The Courtesan" is an example of the milder erotica. An elderly "customer" leers lustily at the young woman, the Georgian equivalent of the modern escort.

A more explicit drawing is "Ladies Trading on their Own Bottom" (1810). Here, an elderly Jewish man seated between two prostitutes is giving them bags marked 100, clearly payment for services rendered.  

In the 1780s Rowlandson became friends with another master caricaturist, James Gillray. Gillray's success producing satirical prints encouraged Rowlandson to try his hand at it. Together, he and Gillray helped to make the pugnacious John Bull a personification of Britain and British resistance to the French and Napoleon. 

One of Rowlandson's forays into political caricature was a series he did on the electoral campaigning of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. The story is related in the 2008 film The Duchess, starring Keira Knightley, and by yours truly elsewhere. 

The Duchess' political activities aroused a scandal. Rowlandson took full advantage of the situation, portraying her mingling with and even kissing men from the lower orders. The cartoons implied that she was acting much like a common woman of the streets. [See Scandal: Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and the British Election of 1784] 

Rowlandson seems to have been a bit obsessed with the Duchess. Despite the implied criticism in his electoral cartoons, I think he may have had a secret crush on her. His depictions of her were not always political. An example is a watercolor, "A Gaming Table at Devonshire House" (1787).

Devonshire House was the London residence of Georgiana and her husband the duke, where they (or she) threw many lavish parties. Here, Rowlandson pictures the Duchess in a hat throwing the dice during a game of faro. Her sister, also hatted, is reaching into her purse for more money. One of the young men at the table is the Prince of Wales, the future George IV, who famously gambled away a fortune. 

The painting is dripping with sensuality. Rowlandson may have been criticizing Georgiana's fondness for gambling but he was an avid and often successful gambler himself. He certainly captures her famous beauty here. 

Rowlandson was equally fascinated with the more grisly business of anatomy and one of its offshoots, body snatching. He produced a number of prints showing anatomists and their pupils dissecting corpses. on the right, the man in the brown coat is looking at a price list for bodies. [Image: "The Dissecting Room"]

In "The Persevering Surgeon" Rowlandson adds a touch of eroticism. The surgeon is about to dissect the body of a young woman, and seems to be leering lustily at her breasts. 

Rowlandson also portrayed the business of securing the "subjects" of dissection. Body snatching, as it was known, involved stealing freshly dead bodies. It was an illegal, but highly profitable trade. 

Obtaining enough bodies legally, even for teaching purposes, was difficult. The growth of anatomy schools in the late 18th century increased the demand for them far beyond the legal supply. 

Anatomists and their pupils often hunted for subjects. Starting in the late 18th century, professional gangs of "Sack Em Up Men," also known as "Resurrection Men," helped to supply the deficiency. They obtained the goods from cemeteries, dead houses, and hospital morgues. In some infamous cases they murdered people to sell their bodies. 

Rowlandson portrayed their nocturnal work in prints such as "The Resurrection Men." 

You may have noticed the presence of skeletons in the previous images. They obviously represent Death, the nemesis of us all, and the great equalizer. They appear in many of Rowlandson's prints. an example is "Death in the Dissecting Room." Here, Avenging Death makes a sudden appearance, terrorizing the anatomists and the body snatcher hauling in a fresh subject. 

Rowlandson's interest in the grisly and macabre is also seen in his drawing of men hanging from a gibbet along the Thames. 

 

In 1814, a friend of Rowlandson's, George Henry Harlow, produced this portrait of him. He was then in his late 50s and at the peak of his career. He died in 1827. 

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Imagining John Bull: Part 1: The Georgian Age

Not so long ago people in much of the world would have easily recognized the image below as John Bull, a symbol of the British nation, much like the USA's Uncle Sam or France's Marianne. But he did not always look like this guy. He evolved for more than two centuries before he was allowed to go to his rest.

John Bull began life as a literary creation rather than an image. He was "born" in 1712 as a character in two of Dr John Arbuthnot's political satires, Law is a Bottomless Pit and The History of John Bull. Ironically, Arbuthnot was a Scot whose character evolved into a personification of Englishness. 

The name "Bull" from the beginning invited comparisons with the animal of that name, especially its virility, strength and stubbornness. Bull also alluded to English fondness for roast beef. The French often called the English les rosbifs.

During the Georgian period, caricaturists provided John Bull with a visual image, or rather a variety of images. He was sometimes portrayed as a bull rather than a man, as in James Gillray's, "John Bull Triumphant" (1780). 

The figure the bull is tossing into the air represents Spain, which had recently joined France and the fledgling United States in war against Britain. The frightened looking figures at the right are France (in blue and pink) and the USA (the Native American!). A farmer in red and buff looks on in satisfaction at the bottom left. Or is he John Bull the man? 

In the cartoon from 1814 below, Bull is pictured as a man with a bull's head. "Johnny Bull and the Alexandrians," however, is by an American. It is commenting on the British attack on Alexandria, Virginia during the War of 1812. The anthropomorphic Bull did not catch on. He was destined to be a man.

The Georgian era John Bull was English, but not necessarily British, in outlook. He was insular in his views. He distrusted "foreigners." That distrust extended to Scots (or North Britons), despite the fact that England and Scotland had been united into Great Britain since 1707.

The cartoon below, Sawney Scot and John Bull (1792) illustrates but seems to condemn the age-old animosity between the Scots and the English. With Britain heading to war with revolutionary France,  the artist was perhaps saying, "let's bury the prejudices that divide us." It would take some time, but John Bull would come to be a British as well as an English symbol. 

During the French Revolution and Napoleonic periods (1789-1815), John Bull emerged into the national limelight as a patriotic, no-nonsense opponent of revolution and then of authoritarianism. 

Two great Georgian caricaturists, James Gillray and Thomas Rowlandson, played significant roles in shaping the image of Bull around the turn of the 19th century. 

An example is Gillray's "French Liberty/English Slavery" (1792). Although Gillray does not name the English figure here, he parallels the image of John Bull he and other artists were developing. 

The "liberated" Frenchman wearing a tricolor cockade is emaciated and attired in rags. He is dining on raw scallions and snails. In contrast, the English "slave" is stout, comfortable, and well dressed He is tucking into a meal of roast beef and ale, his wig at his side. 

The skinny Frenchman is praising the new French republic as a paradise. The portly Englishman is complaining that high taxes are starving him to death. The irony could hardly be missed.  

British caricaturists of the revolutionary period generally drew Bull as a yeoman farmer. He is a man of the earth -- honest, hale, hearty, and rough in manner. Neither rich nor poor, he is a man of simple tastes and strong principles, pugnacious and ever ready to fight Britain's enemies. 

He was also a man of voracious appetites. Gillray's 1798 print, "John Bull Taking a Luncheon, or British Cooks Cramming Old Grumble Gizzard with Bonne Chere" shows Bull gorging on French naval ships. The cooks are British admirals. The one on the right is Admiral Nelson, who had just won a major sea battle against the French fleet in the Battle of the Nile. 

Artists of the time often drew Bull in a long coat and buff trousers (as above), or in a farmer's smock, as in this 1791 Gillray print, "Alecto." 

"Alecto" is a satirical jab at Whig leader Charles James Fox, who had expressed sympathy for the French Revolution. Fox, on the right is pictured as a recruiting sergeant, trying to enlist John Bull into support for the revolution. No hope for that. 

During the 19th century, the farmer's smock disappeared. The long coat and buff trousers became standard in colored prints, often with a red waistcoat. The coat was often blue, perhaps because blue and buff symbolized the two major political parties of the time, the Tories and the Whigs. 

After 1800, the cartoons tend to portray Bull as a sporting countryman who loves dogs, horses, hunting, and English ale. He has little use for intellectualism and European high culture. 

An example is Rowlandson's 1811 print "John Bull at the Italian Opera." While others are enjoying or pretending to enjoy the music, Bull, up in the box, cannot disguise his irritation, or boredom. Away with that foreign stuff! 

John Bull appeared frequently as the nemesis of Napoleon Bonaparte. A common theme was "Come on Boney, we dare you to attack us!" Gillray drew an especially grisly Bull holding the head of Napoleon in "Buonaparte 48 Hours after Landing" (1803)

In "John Bull Making Observations on the Comet" (1807) Rowlandson tells the comet (Napoleon) that he will never reach the level of the sun (King George III). British naval ships on the horizon explain why. 

In "Conversation Across the Water" (artist unknown), 1803, Napoleon declares he will invade Britain. John Bull, looking a bit like Bilbo Baggins, dares him to try. He also points to Royal Navy ships on the horizon. In many of the prints of this time, Napoleon appears as a pint-sized dictator dwarfed by his hat and boots: "Little Boney."

In "John Bull Arming the Spaniards," (1808) Rowlandson portrays Bull as the British emissary bringing aid, arms, and ammunition to Spain in its struggle against Napoleonic conquest. 

In the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars, Bull was enlisted in other causes, some of them repugnant today. In "John Bull Taking a Clear View of the Negro Slavery Question" (1826), Robert Cruikshank uses Bull to undermine the arguments of the growing antislavery movement. 

The abolitionists (in black) are raving about the terrible conditions of the enslaved in the West Indies. Bull, in blue and buff, peers through the telescope and "clearly" sees them enjoying feasting and dancing. A few years later (1833) the abolitionists succeeded. Parliament abolished slavery in the British Empire. 

By the 1820s, John Bull was maturing as a personification of the British nation. Victorian caricaturists would give him a fashion makeover, and employ him to represent a variety of opinions.

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A Georgian Cartoonist's Christmas

According to contemporary cartoonists, Georgian Christmas celebrations were not the scenes of pious, orderly behavior and domestic bliss the Victorians liked to portray. Consider this cartoon by Thomas Rowlandson, from 1804, "Christmas Gambols".

Drunken servants party in the kitchen in less than spiritual fashion. What would their masters think? Perhaps they encouraged such conviviality! Party on ! The mistletoe hanging from the ceiling indicates that the servants are acting in accord with an old Christmas tradition -- up to a point. 

"At Home in the Nursery" by George Cruikshank, 1825, portrays a chaotic Christmas party for children at the home of Master and Mrs. Twoshoes. The children are certainly enjoying themselves! Not quite the pious scene Dickens portrayed of the Cratchit household in A Christmas Carol.

Lewis Walpole's, "A Pleasing Pastime, Christmas Quadrille Party," 1826 shows four gentlemen braving ice skating with hilarious results, probably after tippling a bit too much at the local pub.

"Drawing for a Twelfth Night Cake at St. Anne's Hill," was the work of George Cruikshank's father Isaac.  It portrays an all male celebration at the country house of Charles James Fox in 1799. The image emphasizes Fox's sympathy with revolutionary France, then at war with Britain (liberty caps). Twelfth night celebrations were often rather wild affairs. Like most Georgian celebrations, I suppose.

Placid or Chaotic, Enjoy your Holidays. God Bless Us All, Everyone!

Scandal: Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and the British Election of 1784

The Westminster parliamentary election of 1784 produced a major scandal due to the active involvement of Georgiana Spencer Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire (1757-1806). 

At the time, British women were unable to vote or run for Parliament. They would not gain those rights for more than a century. Georgiana's scandalous behavior was not to defy the electoral laws but the convention that women, at least "respectable" women, should not actively canvas for votes on behalf of men. [Below: Portrait by Thomas Gainsborough]

Georgiana's marriage to William Cavendish, 5th Duke of Devonshire, was not a happy one. The Duke was unemotional and adulterous. The Duchess sought refuge in society, the theatre, gambling, and visiting pleasure gardens. Gambling became an addiction, and she racked up enormous debts. 

As celebrities do today, she attracted the attention of the media, in press and print. Artist Thomas Rowlandson produced many cartoons in which she was the subject, such as the two below showing her at the gaming table and at Vauxhall (in center of the crowd with her sister). Many other notables are pictured at Vauxhall, including Dr. Samuel Johnson, Oliver Goldsmith, and James Boswell, seated at the left.

The candidate Georgiana helped was Charles James Fox, leader of the parliamentary Whigs. In 1780 she had stood on the hustings with Fox. In 1784 she went much further. She went about the streets of Westminster, canvassing voters and trying to convince them to cast their vote for Fox. He was not only running to keep his seat as an MP, but hoping that the Whigs he led would gain enough seats to allow him to replace his rival, William Pitt the Younger, as Prime Minister. 

The Westminster electorate was relatively large for the time and included men of the middling and lower ranks. For a duchess to mix and touch -- some claimed even kiss -- such folk seemed scandalous to many contemporaries. Cartoonists had a field day, notably Rowlandson. The image below, "The Devonshire; or Most Approved Method of Securing Votes" shows the Duchess kissing a butcher. 

More licentious, and completely fanciful, "The Poll" shows Georgiana and Albinia, Countess of Buckinghamshire, on a see saw trying to "tip the balance" between the two leading candidates, Fox and Sir Cecil Wray. Albinia openly supported Wray, and met the same criticisms as Georgiana. Both women are shown exposing their breasts, symbolizing their scandalous behavior. Fox is on the right with his hands in the air. The phallic-shaped rocks the seesaw rests on add another level of suggestiveness.

The image below shows Georgiana processing to the hustings with other canvassers, including other women.

Despite all the negative publicity Georgiana received, Fox was reelected as one of the two Westminster MPs. Who knows, her efforts may even have helped him win over voters. His goal of becoming Prime Minister was thwarted, however, because Pitt gained a solid majority of supporters in Parliament.

Georgiana did not enter the political fray again so publicly. She continued for years to mix with and influence Whig leaders like Fox, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and the Prince of Wales, the future George IV. 

She also had an affair with a member of the Whig inner circle, Charles Grey, with whom she had an illegitimate daughter. The affair ended when her husband threatened her with divorce and never seeing her children again. Georgiana, who had strong mothering instincts, chose her children over Grey. He was furious at the rejection, but had some compensation. He later became an earl, Prime Minister, and had a tea named after him. 

The portrait below by Joshua Reynolds, shows the Duchess playing with her daughter, also named Georgiana.