Another author that mentions Brentford in his works is William Makepeace Thackeray, a 19th century English author, who was famous as a satirist, his works include, The Book of Snobs (1847), Vanity Fair (1848), Barry Lyndon and also some amusing satirical ballads. His novels are often regarded as the great upper-class counterpart to Dickens's panoramic depiction of lower-class Victorian society.
He would have known of Brentford, through his time at school in Chiswick., which according to British History Online was:
“At Walpole House, in Chiswick Mall, a school was kept by the Revd. John Turner and attended by his wife's great nephew William Makepeace Thackeray (1811-63) from 1818. It was probably the original of Miss Pinkerton's academy in Vanity Fair, which Thackeray placed in Chiswick Mall, although his illustration, showing massive gate piers and another house opposite, gave some support to a claim that he had been describing Boston House, Brentford.”
George IV lived at and visited Kew Palace opposite to Brentford and frequented a Brentford tavern, The Three Swans, which we wrote about in our article Brentford Ait - Wild, Beautiful & Notorious. Thackeray portrays George IV in this period around Brentford in his satirical ballad The King Of Brentford.
Thackeray’s poem The King Of Brentford pokes fun at King George IV (1762-1830) for his lifestyle of excessive eating and drinking. By 1797 his weight was 17 stone 7 pounds and by 1824 his waist was a massive 50 inches.
The King of Brentford
by William Makepeace Thackeray
There was a king in Brentford,--of whom no legends tell, But who, without his glory,--could eat and sleep right well. His Polly's cotton nightcap,--it was his crown of state, He slept of evenings early,--and rose of mornings late.
All in a fine mud palace,--each day he took four meals, And for a guard of honor,--a dog ran at his heels, Sometimes, to view his kingdoms,--rode forth this monarch good, And then a prancing jackass--he royally bestrode.
There were no costly habits--with which this king was curst, Except (and where's the harm on't?)--a somewhat lively thirst; But people must pay taxes,--and kings must have their sport, So out of every gallon--His Grace he took a quart.
He pleased the ladies round him,--with manners soft and bland; With reason good, they named him,--the father of his land. Each year his mighty armies--marched forth in gallant show; Their enemies were targets--their bullets they were tow.
He vexed no quiet neighbor,--no useless conquest made, But by the laws of pleasure,--his peaceful realm he swayed. And in the years he reigned,--through all this country wide, There was no cause for weeping,--save when the good man died.
The faithful men of Brentford,--do still their king deplore, His portrait yet is swinging,-- beside an alehouse door. And topers, tender-hearted,--regard his honest phiz, And envy times departed--that knew a reign like his.
In Thackeray’s satirical portraits for Punch magazine, in 1848, ‘The Book of Snobs’ (Chapter II The Snob Royal) he continues to lampoon George IV by questioning Brentford’s liking for the King:
“I will not, however, take instances from our own country of Royal Snobs, but refer to a neighbouring kingdom, that of Brentford--and its monarch, the late great and lamented Gorgius IV. With the same humility with which the footmen at the 'King's Arms' gave way before the Plush Royal, the aristocracy of the Brentford nation bent down and truckled before Gorgius, and proclaimed him the first gentleman in Europe. And it's a wonder to think what is the gentlefolks' opinion of a gentleman, when they gave Gorgius such a title.
What is it to be a gentleman? Is it to be honest, to be gentle, to be generous, to be brave, to be wise, and, possessing all these qualities, to exercise them in the most graceful outward manner? Ought a gentleman to be a loyal son, a true husband, and honest father? Ought his life to be decent--his bills to be paid--his tastes to be high and elegant--his aims in life lofty and noble? In a word, ought not the Biography of a First Gentleman in Europe to be of such a nature that it might be read in Young Ladies' Schools with advantage, and studied with profit in the Seminaries of Young Gentlemen? I put this question to all instructors of youth--to Mrs. Ellis and the Women of England; to all schoolmasters, from Doctor Hawtrey down to Mr. Squeers. I conjure up before me an awful tribunal of youth and innocence, attended by its venerable instructors (like the ten thousand red-cheeked charity-children in Saint Paul's), sitting in judgment, and Gorgius pleading his cause in the midst. Out of Court, out of Court, fat old Florizel! Beadles, turn out that bloated, pimple-faced man!--If Gorgius MUST have a statue in the new Palace which the Brentford nation is building, it ought to be set up in the Flunkeys' Hall. He should be represented cutting out a coat, in which art he is said to have excelled. He also invented Maraschino punch, a shoe-buckle (this was in the vigour of his youth, and the prime force of his invention), and a Chinese pavilion, the most hideous building in the world. He could drive a four-in-hand very nearly as well as the Brighton coachman, could fence elegantly, and it is said, played the fiddle well. And he smiled with such irresistible fascination, that persons who were introduced into his august presence became his victims, body and soul, as a rabbit becomes the prey of a great big boa-constrictor.
Another of Thackeray’s ballads mentioning Brentford is an amusing tale about how the King of Brentford rewarded his two sons in his will. The full poem can be read on The Literature Network.
.... "O'er all the land of Brentford
I'm lord, and eke of Kew….
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In the King of Brentford ballad it refers to a pub, ‘The faithful men of Brentford,--do still their king deplore, His portrait yet is swinging,-- beside an alehouse door.’ must refer to the George IV pub then in Brentford.
From the Brentford High Street Project list of Brentford Pubs it can be seen that there was a pub in Brentford, named after the King, the George IV pub at 50 High Street, on the east corner of Goat Wharf, which opened pre-1826 and closed in 1931 and became a cycle shop.
