Mike Rendell

I rather like this reminder of how the River Thames had made London into a thriving fishing port two centuries ago. This Rowlandson  image appeared on 18 September 1810 and shows the area around Billingsgate market not as some huge industrial dockside scene filled with  trans-Atlantic ships, and vessels belonging to the East India Company – but as a simple landing stage where fishing boats could haul ashore their catches, straight from the North Sea. Entitled: ‘Procession of the cod company from St. Giles’s to Billings Gate’ the British Museum on-line catalogue describes the scene as follows:

“Seven enormously fat and brawny Irishwomen approach (right to left) the quayside at Billingsgate, below which are fishing-smacks. All carry baskets on their heads, two smoke pipes. An eighth woman, also smoking, sits on a low stool on the extreme left, with cod and lobsters spread out for sale. In the background (right) an open pent-house attached to the large houses flanking the dock is filled by tiny figures with baskets of fish; a man ascends a ladder towards it from the water with a basket on his head. One of the pent-house stalls is placarded ‘Salt Cod Bar . . Ling Pilcha[rds]’. In the background larger vessels lie at anchor against buildings on the south side of the Thames.”

The hand-coloured etching was published by Thomas Tegg at  his Cheapside premises and originally cost one shilling. It is shown on the Lewis Walpole site here.

And just as a balance, a second Rowlandson which actually appeared a few years earlier, probably in 1803. Entitled “Queer Fish” it shows a corpulent gentleman buying fish from a fisher-woman, and as usual, I love the way the artist depicts his characters (as well as the fish!) as being somewhat ugly. The scene is full of action and, as ever, there is always a more attractive lady lurking in the background. The detail is great. Again, my thanks to the Lewis Walpole Library at Yale University for the use of the image.

Thomas Rowlandson always enjoyed showing the realities of life, contrasting the rather mundane pleasures of  life at home with the distinctly more heady pleasures of playing away from home.

Here, a double scene, drawn by Rowlandson in February 1807 and published by Thomas Tegg. It is described on the British Museum site, but without an image, so I have  used the image on the Lewis Walpole Library site.

The description is as follows:

Upper image: A fat woman sits in a nightgown on the edge of a curtained bed while her husband (right) yawns in an armchair, glass and decanter beside him. He has dropped a (broken) pipe and his book: ‘Memoirs of an Amorous Fat Rump’d Old Tabby’. She watches him anxiously, holding out his nightshirt to the fire (left). An elderly maidservant leaves the room with warming-pan and candle, looking over her shoulder much amused. On the chimney-piece by the bed are bottles labelled ‘Restorative Drop’ and ‘Corn Plais[ter]’. A cat and kitten sit by the fire.
Lower image: A young man and a pretty courtesan caress each other on a sofa. Beside them are wine and fruit on a round table. Behind a curtain (right) a degraded-looking woman drinks furtively. 

I love the way that Rowlandson had just a few stock characters he used time and time again – the young couple are typical in being shown as handsome and healthy, whereas older married couples are always shown as being overweight and slothful.

Carrying on the theme of men of the cloth being seen as being more interested in matters carnal than matters theological, and ending with a dig at the sexual proclivities of the Prince of Wales, here are a trio of eighteenth century caricatures under the title of The Man of Feeling.

First up, this one from the Royal Collections site showing what is described as being “a plump Parson standing regarding a young woman as he places his hand on her breast. The young woman looks on demurely with a basket over her left arm. The couple stand in front of a tree and the Parson’s place of employment, the church, stands in the background. In the man’s pocket is a paper entitled Essay on Woman “. It was etched by Thomas Rowlandson and appeared in 1788.

Another Rowlandson, with much the same title, and with the male character fondling  the bottom of a much younger woman, appears  on the Digital Commonwealth Massachusetts Collection site.

The original is in the Boston Public Library and was etched by Rowlandson in 1811, forming part of  the first volume of a publication called  The Caricature Magazine or Hudibrastic Mirror . The site comments on it saying that it ‘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’.

The sign to the side of the fireplace gives the headings ‘Term starts’ ‘Term Ends’ and ‘Long Vacation’ and there is another notice entitled ‘Oxford Almanac’. A copy of the ‘Doomsday Book’ lies open on the floor beneath a table supporting bottles of Gin, Rum, Cognac and what looks like ‘Prescribed Ginger’. As with all Rowlandson’s there is a wealth of trivial detail, and the male character is, as usual, shown as a rather revolting lecherous older man.

Gillray used a similar title in 1800 to have a dig at the porcine Prince of Wales – the full title was ‘A man of feeling in search of Indispensibles’ and below the title it has the lengthy explanation:

“NB. A number of disputes having arisen in the Beau Monde, respecting the Exact Situation of the Ladies Indispensibles (or new Invented Pockets) whether they were placed at the Ancle, or in a more elegible situation, – the above Search took place, in order to determine precisely the Longitude of these inestimable conveniences”. It appears both on the V&A site here and on the British Museum site here.

It shows the Prince ferreting around under a ladies skirt and the British Museum site adds this explanation: “Girls, fashionably dressed, sit sewing round a large table. In the foreground the elephantine Prince of Orange kneels, feeling the leg of two girls on his right and left; they throw up their arms and scream. The others look on, amused or astonished. The mistress of the establishment enters by the door (right), elaborately and indecorously dressed, a feathered bonnet in her hand. On the wall hang cloaks, feathers, a hat, &c, and on a shelf is a bust wearing a feathered hat. A placard: ‘le Magasin de Lancastre pour Embellir les Dames Angloise [sic] – Indispencibles’. One of these pockets is on the ground, a girl works at another.

By way of explanation, the British Museum site goes on to say that the fashionable substitute for a pocket was necessary because of transparent dresses moulding the figure. It was called the reticule or ‘ridicule’, called also in Paris the balantine, and was carried in the hand and dangled to the ankle.

(The phrase ‘the man of feeling’ became widespread after the novel of that name was published in 1771.  The book was regarded as being ‘a sentimental novel’ and was written by the Scottish author Henry Mackenzie.Wikipedia tells me that it  apparently ‘presented a series of moral vignettes which the naïve protagonist Harley either observes, is told about, or participates in’).

Needless to say, caricaturists revelled in showing ‘the man of feeling’ as being a man doing rather a lot of feeling….