"The Portrait," George Cruikshank's frontispiece for the third volume of Ainsworth's "Jack Sheppard" (original) (raw)

Passages Illustrated: The Distinguished Visitors Arrive

Voices being heard at the door, Austin flew to open it, and admitted Mr. Pitt, the governor, a tall pompous personage, who, in his turn, ushered in four other individuals. The first of these, whom he addressed as Mr. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour — an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. With a strong tendency to satire, but without a particle of malice or ill-nature in its display. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. On the contrary, he was a universal favourite, and numbered amongst his intimate acquaintances the choicest spirits of the time, — Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, and "all the better brothers." His demeanour was polished; his manners singularly affable and gentle; and he was remarkable, for the generosity of his temper. In worldly matters Gay was not fortunate. Possessed, at one time, of a share in the South Sea stock, he conceived himself worth twenty thousand pounds. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with it. Neither did his interest, — which was by no means inconsiderable, — nor his general popularity, procure him the preferment he desired. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck.

Places, I found, were daily given away,
And yet no friendly gazette mentioned Gay.

The prodigious success of the Beggars' Opera, which was produced about four years after the date of this history, rewarded [Gay] for all his previous disappointments, though it did not fully justify the well-known epigram, alluding to himself and the manager, and "make Gay rich, and Rich gay." At the time of his present introduction, his play of The Captives, had just been produced at Drury Lane, and he was meditating his "Fables," which were published two years afterwards.

Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. The eminent painter had handsome, expressive features, an aquiline nose, and a good deal of dignity in his manner. His age was not far from fifty. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth. Why he paid so much attention to Sir James Thornhill may be explained anon.

The rear of the party was brought up by a large, powerfully-built man, with a bluff, honest, but rugged countenance, slashed with many a cut and scar, and stamped with that surly, sturdy, bull-dog-like look, which an Englishman always delights to contemplate, because he conceives it to be characteristic of his countrymen. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and close-shaven pate. His shirt also was unbuttoned, and disclosed a neck like that of an ox, and a chest which might have served as a model for a Hercules. He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathern-looking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick. — "Epoch the Third. 1724. The Prison Breaker," Chapter 16, "How Jack Sheppard's Portrait was Painted," Volume 3, p. 129-133.

The Scene as Described in the Text

Sir James Thornhill's preparations being completed, Mr. Pitt desired to know if he wanted anything further, and being answered in the negative, he excused himself on the plea that his attendance was required in the court at the Old Bailey, which was then sitting, and withdrew.

"Do me the favour to seat yourself, Jack," said Sir James. "Gentlemen, a little further off, if you please."

Sheppard immediately complied with the painter's request; while Gay and Figg drew back on one side, and Hogarth on the other. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil.

"I'll make a sketch, too," he said. "Jack Sheppard's face is well worth preserving."

After narrowly examining the countenance of the sitter, and motioning him with his pencil into a particular attitude, Sir James Thornhill commenced operations; and, while he rapidly transferred his lineaments to the canvass, engaged him in conversation, in the course of which he artfully contrived to draw him into a recital of his adventures. The ruse succeeded almost beyond his expectation. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. All the party were greatly interested by Sheppard's history — especially Figg, who laughed loud and long at the escape from the Condemned Hold. When Jack came to speak of Jonathan Wild, his countenance fell.

"We must change the subject," remarked Thornhill, pausing in his task; "this will never do."

"Quite right, Sir James," said Austin. "We never suffer him to mention Mr. Wild's name. He never appears to so little advantage as when speaking of him."

"I don't wonder at it," rejoined Gay.

Here Hogarth received a private signal from Thornhill to attract Sheppard's attention.

"And so you've given up all hope of escaping, eh, Jack?" remarked Hogarth.

"That's scarcely a fair question, Mr. Hogarth, before the jailer," replied Jack. "But I tell you frankly, and Mr. Austin, may repeat it if he pleases to his master, Jonathan Wild, — I have not."

"Well said, Jack," cried Figg. "Never give in."

"Well," observed Hogarth, "if, fettered as you are, you contrive to break out of this dungeon, you'll do what no man ever did before."

A peculiar smile illuminated Jack's features.

"There it is!" cried Sir James, eagerly. "There's the exact expression I want. For the love of Heaven, Jack, don't move! — Don't alter a muscle, if you can help it."

And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the fleeting expression on the canvass.

"I have it too!" exclaimed Hogarth, busily plying his pencil. "Gad! it's a devilish fine face when lit up." — "Epoch the Second, The Prison Breaker, 1715," Chapter 16, "How Jack Sheppard's Portrait was Painted," Volume 3, p. 139-142.

Commentary

The frontispiece for the third volume was actually the second illustration in the November 1839 (ninth) instalment for novel when it was first serialised in Bentley's Miscellany, the triple-decker simultaneously appearing (November, 1839). In this famous illustration, Cruikshank alludes to the actual practice of having a convicted felon "sit" for his portrait so that all turnkeys would know the criminal by sight, and would be able to distinguish him from mere visitors, as in the May 1837 illustration for The Pickwick Papers, in which Hablot Knight Browne presents the scene in which the hapless picaresque hero Samuel Pickwick, having lost the breach-of-promise suit with his quondam landlady, Mrs. Bardell, is the object of intense study by Fleet Prison staffers, Mr. Pickwick sits for his Portrait in Chapter 40, towards the end of the novel's serial run. Having already alluded directly to several of William Hogarth's satirical series, notably Industry and Idleness (1747) and The Rake's Progress, Cruikshank now pays homage to two of his visual masters by depicting the celebrated print-maker in company with the poet-dramatist John Gay, author of The Beggar's Opera (1728), along with Austin, the Head Turnkey; Figg, the prize-fighter; and the portrait painter and interior designer of the Greenwich Naval Hospital and St. Paul's Cathedral, Sir James Thornhill, already at his easel (left) doing Jack's portrait in oils as Hogarth sketches the prisoner (right). The time and date are specific: the visiting hours at Newgate on the morning of Thursday, 15 October, 1724. The gaoler, Austin, announces Jack's celebrity visitors in these terms:

"Who are they?" inquired Sheppard.

"Why, first," rejoined Austin, "there's Sir James Thornhill, historical painter to his Majesty, and the greatest artist of the day. Those grand designs in the dome of St. Paul's are his work. So is the roof of the state-room at Hampton Court Palace, occupied by Queen Anne, and the Prince of Denmark. So is the chapel of All Souls at Oxford, and the great hall at Blenheim, and I don't know how many halls and chapels besides. He's now engaged on the hall at Greenwich Hospital."

"I've heard of him," replied Jack, impatiently. "Who are the others?"

"Let me see. There's a friend of Sir James — a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures, — his name I believe is Hogarth. Then, there's Mr. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. And, lastly, there's Mr. Figg, the noted prize-fighter, from the New Amphitheatre in Marylebone Fields."

"Figg's an old friend of mine," rejoined Jack; "he was my instructor in the small sword and back sword exercise. I'm glad he's come to see me."

"You don't inquire what brings Sir James Thornhill here?" said Austin.

"Curiosity, I suppose," returned Jack, carelessly.

"No such thing," rejoined the jailer; "he's coming on business."

"On what business, in the name of wonder?" asked Sheppard.

"To paint your portrait," answered the jailer.

"My portrait!" echoed Jack.

"By desire of his Majesty," said the jailer, consequentially. "He has heard of your wonderful escapes, and wishes to see what you're like. There's a feather in your cap! No house-breaker was ever so highly honoured before." — Chapter 16, pages 126-128.

And, in fact, in the scene Cruikshank has incorporated a facsimile of the Thornhill portrait known as Jack Sheppard of Spitalfields. Hundreds had daily paid four shillings to visit Sheppard in his cell, but he had had no guest to rival in eminence the court favourite, Sir James Thornhill (1675-1734), the official history painter of King George I. The editors of the Broadview edition note that there is no evidence either that Thornhill had such a royal commission or that Gay and Hogarth met Sheppard in prison at that time, although the dramatist did meet Jonathan Wild, the thief-taker who served as the basis for Peachum in The Beggar's Opera, which opened at the Theatre Royal, Lincoln's Inn Fields, on 29 January 1728, and enjoyed an unprecedented run of sixty-two performances.

After the reader has studied the facial expressions of Jack and his visitors, the reader arrives at the massive padlock and chain bolted to the flagstoned floor of the most secure cell in Newgate, the Condemned Cell in the Stone Castle. The scene is illuminated by the small, barred window (right), highlighting Jack's self-confident expression and the gigantic figure of the perspiring prize-fighter as he wipes his brow. One of the objects on the floor serves as embedded text: to the right, at the feet of William Hogarth, is a newspaper, The Daily Journal, dated 15 October 1724; to the left is the box of oil paints that Ainsworth mentions. The original painting has not survived, but we still have a record of that sitting in a sketch attributed to Thornhill, and a 1728 mezzotint engraving by George White based upon it, both in Great Britain's National Portrait Gallery. The Daily Journal records that the sketch was made on Friday, 13 September, by "an eminent painter." Immediately below, Cruikshank injects himself into the scene by placing his name above those of the sitters: "George Cruikshank fec[it]" — that is, in Latin, "made this." Awaiting execution, Jack wittily points towards his cell door, as if to intimate that he somehow will get out on his own. Sheppard's hair has been cropped in preparation for his journey to Tyburn, where the idle apprentice of Hogarth's allegory is hanged in Scene XI of Industry and Idleness (1747).

Bibliography

Ainsworth, William Harrison. Jack Sheppard. A Romance. With 28 illustrations by George Cruikshank. In three volumes. London: Richard Bentley, 1839.

Ainsworth, William Harrison. Jack Sheppard. Edited by Edward Jacobs and Manuela Mourao. With 31 illustrations. Peterborough, ON: Broadview, 2007.

Carver, Stephen. Ainsworth and Friends: Essays on 19th Century Literature & The Gothic. Accessed 1 November 2016. https://ainsworthandfriends.wordpress.com/2013/01/16/william-harrison-ainsworth-the-life-and-adventures-of-the-lancashire-novelist/

Dickens, Charles. Oliver Twist. Illustrated by George Cruikshank. London: Bradbury and Evans; Chapman and Hall, 1846.

Meisel, Martin. Chapter 13, "Novels in Epitome." Realizations: Narrative, Pictorial, and Theatrical Arts in Nineteenth-Century England. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989. Pp. 247-282.

Sutherland, John. "Jack Sheppard" in The Stanford Companion to Victorian Fiction. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 19893. Pp. 323-324.

Vann, J. Don. "Jack Sheppard in Bentley's Miscellany, January 1839 — February 1840." Victorian Novels in Serial. New York: Modern Language Association, 1985. Page 19.

Last modified 24 December 2016