Cruikshank's Prints in "Ten Things I Hate About the Duke": Jealousy

“Jealousy” by George Cruikshank, 1 November 1825, courtesy Lewis Walpole Library.

Once again, I recommend you click on the link, in order to zoom in on the image and enjoy the details. Apparently, the letter signed “Anonymous,” under the gentleman’s hand, suggests that his lady is untrue, and several images suggest that her lover is an officer. At least two of the imps wear cuckold’s horns, one pointing to the lady who’s climbing down the rope ladder to run off with an officer, while the night watchman . . . watches the proceedings. The other is offering green spectacles, suggesting that Our Hero see more clearly? Or view through the lens of jealousy?

The wigged men in black are apparently lawyers, probably suggesting a “criminal conversation” or crim con case. A pistol is introducing itself, as a weapon for a duel (the outcome of that is suggested on the mantel), murder, or suicide, while hanging is another option (aided by another imp). The two books on the floor are Byron’s Don Juan, the long poem about the famous lover (well worth reading, it’s witty and brilliant) and the Cuckoo Song Book (another cuckold reference). The painting on the right portrays Othello smothering Desdemona. The one above the gentleman’s head appears to be titled “Horn Fair,” another cuckold warning.

If we search online, we find some slightly different interpretations of the details in Cruikshank’s prints. Do you see anything I’ve missed? Or would you interpret some of the details differently?

The fascinating Baron de Bérenger

Yes, the Baron de Bérenger did exist.

A few years ago, while in London, I had the privilege of visiting the Kensington Central Library and exploring its archives under the guidance of Dave Walker, Local Studies Librarian. It was Dave who introduced me to the Baron de Bérenger, via the baron’s gun. Until then, I’d never heard of the man, but upon learning he had a flamboyant character, with a shade of fraud around the fringes, I became deeply interested. No, let us say, obsessively interested, and you do need to be obsessive about him, because he’s deuced elusive. Biographies do not abound. What we get are what Wikipedia calls stubs.

However, I quickly found a remarkable book he wrote, Helps and Hints How to Protect Life and Property with Instructions in Rifle and Pistol Shooting, &c. by Lt. Col. Baron de Bérenger.

The last part of the book is a description of his new Stadium, which, basically, is a venue for putting the author’s philosophy into action:

“Since it was to their national games that the Greeks and Romans owed alike superiority in muscular exertion and skill, and that mental loftiness, that noble daring, which changing, out of the arena, to patriotic self-devotion, furnished so many glorious examples,—it is obvious that the means thus employed by them claim our serious consideration, and are worthy of our adoption. Even, however, in our own times, it is to the fascinations of the field sports, and the arduous exertions of military duty, that we may ascribe an extraordinary development of our powers,—a great improvement of the symmetry and agility of the manly frame, and increased ability to endure exposure and fatigue.”

In 1830, de Bérenger bought Chelsea Farm, where he created “a spacious arena, and also distinct plots of ground, (the whole tastefully and expensively decorated, and provided with necessary implements, &c.) are purposely devoted to exercises, games, and pastimes, which, whilst under scientific instruction they ensure the acquirement of skilful activity and presence of mind, at the same time most powerfully tend in youthful practitioners to develope, and in those advanced in years to invigorate, the muscular powers, and undeniably to promote health in both, by stimulating digestion, causing serene repose, and averting numberless maladies resulting from irregularity in the secretions and other functions; for all of these, energetic exercises, relaxation from study, and cheerful pursuits, can alone preserve or best restore.” [The spelling is de Bérenger’s.]

George Cruikshank, Artificial Pigeon Shooting, at the Stadium, Chelsea ca 1834 © Victoria and Albert Museum, London, Bequest of Mrs. Eliza Cruikshank

This is the Stadium where Cassandra demonstrates the art of nearly killing a fellow with an umbrella. As adept as he was, the baron saw only limited use for an umbrella in self-defense. However, there was abundant material elsewhere on this topic. Though my sources came from much later in the century, it was easy enough to imagine someone as clever and determined as Cassandra Pomfret developing her own methods.

The Stadium became a pleasure garden, Cremorne Gardens, which is mainly where one encounters brief mentions of de Bérenger. But that developed at a later time than my historical setting, and is another, far less elusive subject altogether.

The Bartitsu Society offers a compact bio of de Bérenger.

There’s a short video on YouTube.

Here’s his petition, in relation to the fraud with which he was charged. I have to say, I love his writing. His personality comes through so vividly!

Those Cruikshank Prints In "Ten Things I Hate About You": 'The Blue Devils'

George Crukshank, The Blue Devils, 10 January 1823, courtesy Harvard Library

This is the first post about the Cruikshank prints mentioned in the book, with some notes about the imagery. The Cruikshank images Ashmont has in his dressing room must have been quite popular, because they were reprinted at later dates, sometimes as late as a decade or more after the original. Unfortunately, it’s difficult if not impossible to get all the jokes and references in 19th-century satirical prints, but I’ll offer clues where I can. I do strongly urge you to click on the links, so that you can view the images enlarged, and note the many, clever little details.

“Pray remember the poor debtors”—reference to a window at debtors' prison where prisoners begged for money to pay their prison expenses. Clearly, the subject of the illustration is up the River Tick, as he might say. Also: A blue devil blowing his brains out. A blue devil offering a razor, for throat cutting. Another imp offering a noose. A gentleman presenting an IOU, tapping on our hero's shoulder. A pickpocket—likely to find only lint. Inside the fireplace, a grate containing no coal but a list of what’s owing to coal merchants.

A set of paintings deals with catastrophes: a shipwreck, a burning building, a domestic quarrel growing violent. Then there’s the empty bottle, the overdue bill, the funeral parade , with the Beadle (a parish officer) leading the way.

The Miseries of Human Life, first published in 1806, was extremely popular, and continued to be reprinted. Thomas Rowlandson, among others, illustrated scenes from the book. You can read more about that here at the Princeton University site. An image search on line will show you many of the illustrations, and you can find countless editions of the book online.

Buchan's Domestic Medicine, originally published in 1769 and continuing to be updated and printed long after Buchan’s death, was a famous book of home medicine, used all over the world. This is also available online.

The book labeled Ennui appears to contain poetry. As I discovered in researching Vixen in Velvet, there’s an abundance of lugubrious poetry from this era, featuring what we might consider an unhealthy preoccupation with death, especially the death of the young and beautiful. Unfortunately, the poets and their readers had good reason to be preoccupied. Medical practice was more or less insane, by our standards, and a common cold or a sliver could kill in a time long before antibiotics existed. Women died in childbirth all too frequently.

Have I missed anything? Cruikshank is so imaginative—and oh, what a career!