Gillray, James. “We Explain the Rights of Man to de Noblesse”. Original antique engraving by James Gillray. From the Bohn edition of 1851, using Gillray’s original copper plates. With later hand colouring.

“We explain de Rights of Man to de Noblesse” was first published on March 1, 1798. It serves as the second plate in the famous propaganda series titled Consequences of a Successful French Invasion.

Commissioned during the height of the French Revolutionary Wars, the series was designed to whip up British patriotism by illustrating the horrific, chaotic nightmare that would unfold if French Republican forces successfully crossed the English Channel and conquered Great Britain.

The title mockingly adopts a French accent (“de” instead of “the”) to quote Thomas Paine’s revolutionary text, The Rights of Man. Gillray suggests that the French definition of extending “rights” to the aristocracy (de Noblesse) is simply to execute them and destroy their institutions.

Unlike Gillray’s typical work, which independently mocked both sides of British politics, this series was directly backed by government figures to act as a stark warning against domestic radicalism.

The scene is set inside a completely plundered, defiled House of Lords chamber:

The most shocking visual is the royal throne, which has been stripped away “to accommodate the strangers”. In its place stands a bloody French guillotine.

The regal canopy over the throne is topped with a revolutionary red Cap of Liberty (Bonnet Rouge), below which the words “Confusion to all Order” are painted in bold.

The chamber is entirely devoid of British peers. On the back wall, a board bears the grim Latin inscription: “Solitudinem faciunt, Pacem appellant”—a famous line from Tacitus meaning, “They create desolation, and call it peace.”

On the right, French soldiers are actively using swords, pikes, and bayonets to shred the famous Armada Tapestries—historic wall hangings that celebrated England’s 1588 naval victory over Spain. A French Admiral looks at them and states, “Me like not de Omen; destroy it.”

In the foreground, a ragged, unkempt French soldier hoists the sacred parliamentary Mace onto his shoulder to carry it away as plundered loot.

Even while conquering, the French are shown as treacherous. On the left, a French sea captain climbs a ladder to tear down the tapestries, while his own lieutenant maliciously sets fire to the base of the ladder to break his superior’s neck.

Gillray was one of five children, and the only one to survive to maturity. In 1770 he was apprenticed to Harry Ashby, a London writing in engraver, and five years later W. Humphrey published a few of Gillray’s illustrations including satirical works. By the time Gillray commenced his career satire was old, but personal caricature was in its infancy. Other exponents in this form of art were soon overshadowed by Gillray’s superior craftsmanship. His figures were full of vitality, titillating and reflective of some political crisis or private scandal. As his popularity increased so did demand by the public to see more of his work. In the rapidly changing politics of the late18th century he would produce a plate in twenty-four hours. Although sometimes overlooked his speech bubbles were elaborate and Gillray would spend considerable time composing and redrafting the text.

Between 1791 to 1807 his career continued successfully in association with William and Hannah Humphrey. There after Gillray’s health began to suffer. He eventually slipped into madness and died shortly before the Battle of Waterloo on June 1st 1815. Hannah, who had a close relationship with him nursed Gillray through out his final years and following his death the copper plates then formed part of Hannah’s estate when she died in 1818. The executor’s of Hannah’s estate sold Gillray’s painstakingly worked plates for there second hand copper weight. Hearing of this, the then publisher, Bohn who had previously expressed an interest in buying the plates set about purchasing them from a variety of different sources. Eventually acquiring over 500. In 1851 Bohn republished the engravings in a large folio volume, “The Works of James Gillray”.