Lord Longbow, the alarmist, discovering the miseries or Ireland : with the puffing out of the little farthing rush-light, & ye story of Moll Coggin / Js Gy d. & ft.

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James Gillray
1756-1815
Lord Longbow, the alarmist, discovering the miseries or Ireland : with the puffing out of the little farthing rush-light, & ye story of Moll Coggin / Js Gy d. & ft.
[London] : Pub March 12th 1798 by H Humphrey, 27 St James's Street, [1798]
Bequest of Gordon N. Ray, 1987.
1986.449
Published: 
[London] : Pub March 12th 1798 by H. Humphrey, 27 St James's Street, [1798]
Provenance: 
From the library of Gordon N. Ray.
Notes: 

A print ridiculing Lord Moira for recent speeches protesting the harsh treatment of the Irish people by the British military and government authorities.
At head of image: "He had it from his Father, who would tell you Fifty in a breath - ay, & tell them, - 'till he believ'd them all himself."
Three columns of text below title: Oh, my Lords, a man who walks erect like me, can plainly discover ...

Summary: 

Print shows Lord Moira, in regimentals, standing on the edge of a headland; in his right hand is an unstrung long-bow, much taller than himself. Across the water is a night-scene in Ireland. Two soldiers by the waterside are seated over a large dish containing an infant which one is carving. The other, his hand on a barrel of 'Whiskey', drains the contents of a skull; human bones lie beside them. A little drummer beats his drum with bones. A soldier siezes a woman and is about to stab her with his bayonet. Behind this group a (?) woman is suspended by one wrist from three gigantic spears forming a tripod. Beside them is a thatched cottage with a figure in distress just discernible through the door and with a lighted candle in the window. At this candle Moira is directing a blast (resembling a searchlight) from his pursed lips. On a cliff above the cottage a man supports in his arms a huge oak, in whose branches are many swans, some of which fly away to the right. Three frightened cows gallop off. Through the air, between Moira and the tree, gallops a ram on which sits an old witch holding up a broom supporting a bonnet-rouge in one hand and flourishing a bunch of serpents in the other.

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