ueens had been exhibited by ourselves with
considerable energy. On the defeat of the Armada, Elizabeth, Pinkerton
tells us, struck a medal representing the English and Spanish fleets,
_Hesperidum regem devicit virgo_. Philip had medals dispersed in England
of the same impression, with this addition, _Negatur. Est meretrix
vulgi._ These the queen suppressed, but published another medal, with
this legend:--

Hesperidum regem devicit virgo; negatur,
Est meretrix vulgi; res eo deterior.

An age fertile in satirical prints was the eventful aera of Charles the
First: they were showered from all parties, and a large collection of
them would admit of a critical historical commentary, which might become
a vehicle of the most curious secret history. Most of them are in a bad
style, for they are allegorical; yet that these satirical exhibitions
influenced the eyes and minds of the people is evident from an
extraordinary circumstance. Two grave collections of historical
documents adopted them. We are surprised to find prefixed to Rushworth's
and Nalson's historical collections two such political prints! Nalson's
was an act of retributive justice; but he seems to have been aware that
satire in the shape of pictures is a language very attractive to the
multitude, for he has introduced a caricature print in the solemn folio
of the Trial of Charles the First.[102] Of the happiest of these
political prints is one by Taylor the Water-poet, not included in his
folio, but prefixed to his "Mad Fashions, Odd Fashions, or the Emblems
of these Distracted Times." It is the figure of a man whose eyes have
left their sockets, and whose legs have usurped the place of his arms; a
horse on his hind legs is drawing a cart; a church is inverted; fish
fly in the air; a candle burns with the flame downwards; and the mouse
and rabbit are pursuing the cat and the fox!

The animosities of national hatred have been a fertile source of these
vehicles of popular feeling--which discover themselves in severe or
grotesque caricatures. The French and the Spaniards mutually exhibit one
another under the most extravagant figures. The political caricatures of
the French in the seventeenth century are numerous. The _badauds_ of
Paris amused themselves for their losses by giving an emetic to a
Spaniard, to make him render up all the towns his victories had
obtained: seven or eight Spaniards are seen seated around a large
turnip, with their frizzled mustachios,