Robert Seymour was born in 1798. Henry Seymour, his father, a gentleman of good family in Somersetshire, meeting with misfortune, removed to London, and apprenticed him to Mr. Vaughan, a pattern designer of Duke Street, Smithfield. This Vaughan seems to deserve a pa.s.sing notice here by reason of the fact that his father is said to have received proposals for partnership from the father of the late Sir Robert Peel, which were rejected, on the ground that the fortunes of the Peel family were not then considered particularly flourishing. How far this statement may be correct we know not. a.s.suming it to be true, the fortunes of the Peel family afterwards took a turn which probably frequently gave Vaughan _pere_ (if he lived to ruminate thereon) some serious cause for reflection as well as of repentance.

Like Hogarth, with whom this artist, like all other comic designers, has been frequently and improperly compared, young Robert Seymour declined to waste his abilities as a mere mechanical draughtsman, and used his technical education as a means of cultivating the artistic gifts with which nature and inclination had endowed him. He seems at first to have selected a walk in art which required for its ultimate success a larger amount of application and patience than he could well spare for the purpose. Shortly after the expiration of his indentures, he started as a painter in oils, and executed several pictures, one of which (a Biblical subject) included, it is said, no less than one hundred figures, whilst a no less ambitious subject than Ta.s.so's "Jerusalem Delivered" was deemed of sufficient merit to be exhibited on the walls of the Royal Academy. Other pictorial subjects were taken from "Don Quixote,"

"Waverley," "The Tempest," etc., besides which he executed numerous portraits and miniatures. These efforts, however, do not appear to have been sufficiently remunerative to encourage him to continue them, and after a time he resigned them to follow a branch of art more congenial, perhaps, to his abilities, and thenceforth very rapidly acquired fame as a social satirist and caricaturist.

The coloured caricatures of Robert Seymour, besides being comparatively scarce and little known, seem hardly to call for any particular description; the t.i.tles of some of them will be found mentioned in our Appendix. One which has survived, and with which the public are probably most familiar, is one of the worst of the series. It is ent.i.tled, _Going it by Steam_, is signed "Short Shanks," and was published by King. Among rarer and better ones may be named two very excellent specimens, without date, published by Creed, of Chancery Lane, labelled respectively, _A Musical Genius_ (a butcher boy playing on the Pandean pipes and accompanying himself with marrow bone and cleaver), and _A Man of Taste and Feeling_ (a tramp caught in a trap while helping himself in a butler's pantry). Among the best of his coloured political caricatures, we may mention, _Greece and her Rough Lovers_ (_i.e._ Russia and Turkey), published by Maclean, in 1828. Lithography afforded greater facilities of execution than the old process, and much of Seymour's work in political as well as social satire was executed by himself on stone.

DEATH OF GEORGE IV.

The year 1830 brought the life and reign of George the Fourth to a close. He had been breaking up for a long time past. The first entry of any moment occurs in Mr. Greville's diary, of 25th August, 1828: "The king has not been well; he goes fishing and dining at Virginia Water, stays out late, and catches cold." A year later, the diarist relates that the king had nearly lost his eyesight, and would be "couched" as soon as his eyes were in a proper state for the operation. On the 7th of December he attended a chapter of the Bath, "looked well," but was so blind that "he could not see to read the list, and begged [Mr. Greville]

to read it for him." The Sangrado treatment was then in full force; and we find that in January, 1830, the king, being very ill, "lost forty ounces of blood." He grew at last so much worse that the preparations for the festivities with which the royal birthday was to have been celebrated were obliged to be postponed _sine die_. A victim to dropsy, the operation of puncturing the legs was resorted to, with the result of giving him temporary relief. The patient, however, became liable to violent fits of coughing, in one of which he ruptured a blood vessel, and expired early on the morning of Sat.u.r.day the 26th of June, 1830.

A more contemptible, selfish, unfeeling being as a _man_ than this king could scarcely have been found, "a mixture of narrow-mindedness, selfishness, truckling, bl.u.s.tering, and duplicity, with no object but self, his own ease, and the gratification of his own fancies and prejudices."[97] "A more despicable scene," continues Mr. Greville, "cannot be exhibited than that which the interior of our Court presents--every base, low, and unmanly propensity, with selfishness, avarice, and a life of petty intrigue and mystery."[98] George the Fourth as king and regent was recklessly extravagant, but his expenditure was always upon self or the gratification of self. A hundred examples of his selfish nature might be given, but _cui bono_?

Everything he could get hold of, which could minister to his own personal gratification, he _grasped_ with avidity. In this spirit he appropriated the jewels and spent on himself the whole of the money belonging to his late father's estate, amounting to 120,000. His ministers did not dare to oppose his greed, or tell him that this money belonged to the Crown, and not to himself as an individual. He acted precisely in the same manner with regard to his mother's jewels, of which she possessed a large quant.i.ty. Those she received from George III. she left by will to the king; the rest she gave to her daughters; in spite of which bequest, her selfish son appropriated the whole to himself as his own personal private property.

PORTRAIT OF THE KING.

An admirable likeness of this most selfish of royal or private personages has been drawn by a master hand. "To make a portrait of him,"

says Thackeray, "at first seemed a matter of small difficulty. There is his coat, his star, his wig, his countenance simpering under it: with a slate and a piece of chalk, I could at this very desk perform a recognisable likeness of him. And yet after reading of him in scores of volumes, hunting him through old magazines and newspapers, having him here at a ball, there at a public dinner, there at races, and so forth, you find you have nothing--nothing but a coat and wig, and a mask smiling below it--nothing but a great simulacrum. His sire and grandsires were men. One knew what they were like: what they would do in given circ.u.mstances: that on occasion they fought and demeaned themselves like tough, good soldiers. They had friends whom they liked according to their natures; enemies whom they hated firmly; pa.s.sions and actions and individualities of their own. The sailor king who came after George was a man; the Duke of York was a man, big, burly, loud, jolly, cursing, courageous. But this George, what was he? I look through all his life, and recognise but a bow and a grin. I try and take him to pieces, and find silk stockings, padding, stays, a coat with frogs and a fur collar, a star and blue ribbon, a pocket-handkerchief prodigiously scented, one of Truefitt's best nutty brown wigs reeking with oil, a set of teeth, and a huge black stock, under-waistcoats, more under-waistcoats, and then nothing." "Under-waistcoats, more under-waistcoats--and then nothing!" Yes, there was something besides the silk stockings--the padding--the stays--the coat with frogs and a fur collar, the star and the blue ribbon, although there might be nothing underneath which resembled a heart or which was capable of being inspired by a feeling which had not its origin in _self_. The wardrobe of this royal professor of deportment, who ten years before had been described to his own great personal annoyance as--

"The dandy of sixty, who bows with a grace, And has taste in wigs, collars, cuira.s.ses, and lace,"

was sold on the 2nd of August, 1830, and is said to have been sufficiently numerous to fill Monmouth Street, and sufficiently various and splendid for the wardrobe of Drury Lane Theatre. The meanness of his disposition was exhibited even in the matter of his clothes, scarcely any of which he gave away except his linen, which was distributed every year. Here were all the coats which this monarch had had for fifty years before, three hundred whips, canes without number, every sort of uniform, the costumes of all the order of Europe, splendid fur pelisses, hunting coats and breeches; among other etcetera, a dozen pair of corduroy breeches made to hunt in when Don Miguel was in London. His profusion in these articles was explained by the fact that he never paid for them; but his memory in relation to them was nevertheless so accurate that he recollected every article of dress, no matter how old, and his pages were liable to be called on at any moment to produce some particular coat or other article of apparel of years gone by.

The demise of this treasurer of royal antique raiment was followed by an order for general _mourning_, to which a caricature drawing by Seymour has reference, the satirical meaning of which will be apparent after the explanation previously given. A colossal military figure armed with a baton, on which is inscribed the word "fashion," encounters at dusk, in Hyde Park, a solitary pedestrian habited in a suit of grey clothing.

"How dare you appear," says the apparition, "without a black coat?" to which the frightened pedestrian replies, "The _tailor_ would not trust me, sir." In August, 1830, he gives likenesses of the new king and queen, William the Fourth and Adelaide, surrounded by a halo of glory.

The new king, in reference to his profession, and by way of obvious contrast to his predecessor, is subsequently depicted as an anchor labelled, "England's best bower not _a maker of bows_." From other contemporary pictorial skits by Seymour we learn that various changes were made in the royal establishment, and the new queen seems to have addressed herself specially to a reform in the dresses of the court domestics. On the 1st of October, 1830, Seymour represents her grinding an enormous machine, called the "Adelaide Mill," into which the women servants, dressed in the outrageous head-gear and leg-of-mutton sleeves of the period, are perforce ascending, and issuing from the other side attired in plain and more suitable apparel. "No silk gowns," says Her Majesty as she turns the handle. "No French curls; and I'll have you all wear ap.r.o.ns." The new queen seems also to have shown a disposition to encourage native manufactures and produce at the expense of French and continental importations. These changes were not particularly pleasing to the Conservative lady patronesses of Almack's, who were celebrated at this time for their capricious exclusiveness. One of Robert Seymour's satires, bearing date the 1st of November, 1830, shows us a conference of these haughty dames, who seriously discuss the propriety of admitting some lady (probably the queen) who proposed appearing at one of the b.a.l.l.s "in some vulgar stuff made by the _canaille_ at a place called Kittlefields" [Spitalfields].

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROBERT SEYMOUR. _October 1st, 1830._

"THE ADELAIDE MILL."

_Face p. 213._]

FRENCH REVOLUTION OF 1830.

Whilst England was thus peacefully pa.s.sing through the excitement of a succession to a vacant throne, France was convulsed with one of her ever-recurring revolutions. Charles the Tenth, driven from his throne, had been replaced by one who in his turn, some three and twenty years afterwards, was doomed to give place to the Bonaparte whose sun we ourselves have seen set in the defeat and disaster of Sedan. We find portraits in September, 1830, of Louis Philippe, king of the French, of the queen, General Lafayette, the ex-king Charles the Tenth, and the Duc d'Angouleme. Besides these, we meet with several clever ill.u.s.trations by the artist, on stone, of the stirring events of the time, which are interesting and valuable specimens of his versatile powers.

Some of our readers may remember a pa.s.sage in Peter Pindar, where the merciless satirist ridicules George the Third's German band, telling us (in allusion to his Majesty's well-known penurious habits) that, although they displaced native talent and expected "to feast upon the Coldstream regiments fat," their experience was altogether of another character:--

"But ah, their knives no veal nor mutton carved!

To feasts they went indeed, but went and starved!"

The services of these foreign musical mercenaries had been retained by George the Fourth, but one of the very earliest acts of his successor was to dismiss them in favour of the guards' bands, "who," however, if we are to believe Mr. Greville, had no great reason to be thankful, but were on the contrary "ready to die of it," as they had to play every night without pay, and were moreover "prevented" from earning money elsewhere. This act of the new king is referred to in a sketch by Seymour, which shows us his Majesty in the act of "discharging the German band," who may be seen marching off headed by their ancient and crestfallen drum-major.

ST. JOHN LONG.

The month of October, 1830, witnessed the trial of the notorious impostor, John St. John Long (whose real name was O'Driscoll) for the manslaughter of Miss Cushin. The success of this ignorant and notorious quack, who managed for a series of years to extract a magnificent income of some 10,000 or 12,000 per annum by trading on the credulity of his fellow-creatures, forms a curious commentary on the weakness of contemporary "society." It is said that he commenced life as a house-painter, and afterwards acquired some slight knowledge of art in the humble capacity of colour grinder to Sir Thomas Lawrence, and while colouring (on his own account) some anatomical drawings for a medical London school, picked up a slight and imperfect knowledge of anatomy.

This stimulated him to further superficial research; and after a few months' probation, his confidence enabled him to pretend that he possessed a cure for every disease under the sun--more especially consumption.[99]

The origin and pretensions of this learned pract.i.tioner are thus referred to in one of the rhymes of the day:--

"You may talk of your Celsus, Machaons, and Galens, Physicians who cured all incurable ailings, But ne'er yet was doctor applauded in song Like that erudite Phoenix, the great Doctor Long.

Such astonishing cures he performs, I a.s.sure ye, Some think him a G.o.d--all a _lusus naturae_: The whole animal system, no matter how wrong, Is set right in a moment by great Doctor Long.

Through all regions his vast reputation has flown, Through the torrid, the frigid, and temperate zone; The wretch, just expiring, springs healthy and strong From his bed at one touch of the great Doctor Long.

His skill to experience, what potentates ran-- The Pope, the Grand Llama, the King of j.a.pan!

The great Chinese autocrat, mighty Fon Whong, Was cured of the 'doldrums' by famed Doctor Long!

In each serious case he considers as well as Doctor Horace, '_naturam c.u.m furca expellas_'; 'Dame Nature' (_i.e._) 'you must poke with a p.r.o.ng.'

Pretty poking she gets from the great Doctor Long.

He cures folks _a merveille_, the French people cry; The Greeks all p.r.o.nounce him [Greek: theztagon tz]

Dutch and Germans adore him; the Irish among, 'To be sure he's the dandy!' Go bragh, Doctor Long!

King Chabert has proved, since restored from his panic, There's small harm in quaffing pure hydrocyanic; But he never found out it was good for the throng, When scrubbed on their stomachs by great Doctor Long.

A machine he's invented, stupendous as new, To sweep one's inside as you'd sweep out a flue; No climbing boy, urged by the sound of the thong, Can brush out your vitals like great Doctor Long.[100]

Garter King has a.s.signed, like a sad 'fleering Jack,'

A duck for a crest, with the motto, '_Quack, Quack_'

To the proud name of St. John (it should be _St. Johng_, Which would rhyme with the surname of great Doctor Long).

Great house-painting, sign-painting, face-painting sage!

Thou Raffaelle of physic!--thou pride of our age!

Alas! when thou diest, and the bell goes ding-dong, Sure Hygeia herself will expire with her Long!

Then fill every gla.s.s, drink in grand coalition, _Long life_, _long_ await this _long_-headed physician; _Long_, _long_ may Fame sound, with her trumpet and song, Through each nation the name of the great Doctor Long!"[101]

"Dr. Long's" remedy ("the p.r.o.ng" referred to in the foregoing ballad) was of the simplest possible character, and--his dupes in nine cases out of ten being women--his success complete. He invented a wonderful liniment or lotion, by means of which he professed to diagnose and eradicate the virus of consumption. With many patients an inflammation followed its application, which (according to the quack) discovered the presence of disease, and which, after a plentiful crop of guineas had been extracted, nature was allowed to heal: the patient was then p.r.o.nounced out of danger. With some persons the liniment was perfectly innocuous, and when this was the case the patient was informed that no disease need be feared. The secret of course lay in the fact that the quack used two liniments, apparently identical, one of which only contained the irritating medium. Many actually consumptive persons of course consulted him; but when this was the case he refused his a.s.sistance, on the ground that it had been invoked too late.

He carried the imposition, as might have been antic.i.p.ated, once too far, and, in the case of the beautiful and unfortunate Miss Cushin (a lady of highly nervous temperament), maintained the inflammation for so long a time that nature for once refused to a.s.sist him, and when Sir Benjamin Brodie was summoned, mortification had already set in. The trial resulted in a verdict of guilty, but the judge (Baron Parke), who summed up scandalously in his favour, instead of sending the fellow to hard labour, imposed a fine of 250, which was immediately paid.

Seymour alludes to this event in a pictorial satire, in which he shows us St. John Long, with a vulture's head and beak, kneeling on the floor of a dungeon with a bottle by his side labelled "lotion," and (beneath) the words,--"Lost, 12,000 per annum, _medical practice_. Whoever will restore the same to Mr. St. J. L--g, shall receive the benefit of his advice."

Miss Cushin's death was quickly followed by another fatal case, that of Mrs. Colin Campbell Lloyd, who also died from the effects of the corrosive lotion, and St. John Long the following year was again put on his trial for manslaughter; in this case the fellow was acquitted.

Seymour's prediction was not destined to be verified. The _soi-disant_ St. John Long, _alias_ O'Driscoll, in spite of these "mistakes," which in our day would receive a harsher term, retained his large "practice"

to the last, and died--still a young man--of the very disease to which he professed to be superior, thus conclusively proving better than anything else could have done the utter impotency of his preparation.

Anstey (son of the once celebrated author of the "New Bath Guide") amusingly describes the administration of an oath to a witness in a court of law:--

"Here, Simon, you shall (silence there!) The truth and all the truth declare, And nothing but the truth be willing To speak, so help you G--d (a shilling)."[102]