English Caricature and Satire on Napoleon I. Volume II (of 2)

G. Cruikshank drew (June 1, 1815) ‘Preparing for War,’ which is somewhat elaborate in detail. The centre is occupied by a funeral pyre, to which fire has already been applied, ‘Sacred to the Bourbon cause, and dedicated to the Downfall of illegitimate Tyranny.’ Atop of this is chained a bull, decked with flowers for the sacrifice, and draped with a cloth, on which is inscribed: ‘Land Tax – Ditto Personal – Tax on Windows, Dogs, Houses, Servants, Clerks, Shopmen, Carts, Hair powder, Horses, Waiters, Travellers, Income, Armorial bearings,’ &c. &c. Poor John Bull bellows, ‘Alas, and must I come to this! have I bled for so many years in your service, and will you now take my life?’ A typical representative of the House of Commons assures him that it is ‘Better to die Johnny, than live, and see thrive the thing we hate – Let us arm – war – war – interminable war I say, down with the Regicide – no quarter to the Usurper – So I said at Congress, so I now repeat, and if it is your fate to expire at the Altar, Johnny, all I ask is that I may live to preach your funeral sermon.’ A typical House of Lords is about to give him the coup de grâce with a pole-axe inscribed ‘New War Taxes,’ comforting him with ‘No grumbling Johnny, you are a Noble Sacrifice and worthy of the Cause.’ A number of empty bags are waiting to be filled – ‘Subsidies,’ ‘The Army,’ ‘The Navy,’ ‘Contractors,’ &c.

The left-hand portion of the picture shows the Prince Regent reclining idly on the throne undergoing his toilet. His idea of the gravity of the situation may be gathered from his speech: ‘Why this looks like war! Order me a brilliant Fête, send me a Myriad of Cooks and Scullions – say to me no more of Civil Lists and deserted wives, but of lascivious Mistresses and Bacchanalian Orgies – To it, Pell mell – my soul is eager for the fierce encounter – What, are my Whiskers52 easier than they were?’ One of his valets says, ‘Your highness shall in all things be obey’d’; whilst one, who is measuring him round the waist, tells him, ‘I think these will be the best stays your highness has had yet.’

In the background are seen soldiery, and Wellington and Blücher sharpening their swords. Poor gouty Louis is clad in armour, and is mounted on Talleyrand as a charger. He is accompanied by an army of two men, armed with bottles of Eau Medicinal, and his artillery is composed of rolls of flannel. He soliloquises: ‘Well – we’ve Tally for the Field to-morrow! but don’t forget the Eau Medicinal and the Fleecy Hosiery; alas! these gouty limbs are but ill adapted to Jack boots and spurs – I think I had better fight my battles over a cool bottle with my friend George.’

The extreme right of the engraving shews Napoleon giving orders to ‘Let loose the Dogs of War;’ which is obeyed by one of his marshals, who delightedly exclaims, ‘Here is a glorious pack already sniffing human blood, and fresh for slaughter – On – comrades – on! the word is Bonaparte, Beelzebub and Blood.’

It was time to prepare for war, with a vengeance. On March 25 a treaty had been concluded at Vienna between Great Britain, Russia, Austria, and Prussia, binding themselves to maintain the Treaty of Paris, to keep each 150,000 men in the field, and not to leave off until Napoleon had been rendered harmless.

British gold had to be lavishly employed: the King of Würtemberg receiving from our Government 11l. 2s. for each man, to the number of 29,000, which he bound himself to bring into the field.53 But the campaign in Belgium was to be a short one. We all know it, and its glorious end, at Waterloo. The news of that victory flew as never news flew before, for on the 22nd inst. was published the following official bulletin:

‘Downing Street, June 22, 1815.

‘The Duke of Wellington’s Dispatch, dated Waterloo, the 19th of June, states that on the preceding day Buonaparte attacked, with his whole force, the British line, supported by a corps of Prussians; which attack, after a long and sanguinary conflict, terminated in the complete overthrow of the Enemy’s Army, with the loss of One Hundred and Fifty Pieces of Cannon, and Two Eagles. During the night, the Prussians under Marshall Blücher, who joined in the pursuit of the Enemy, captured Sixty Guns, and a large part of Buonaparte’s Baggage. The Allied Armies continued to pursue the enemy. Two French Generals were taken.’

Although jubilant exceedingly, the nation hardly yet comprehended the value of that victory; in fact, in reading the immediate contemporary comments thereon, there seems to be a dread of Napoleon’s powers of resource and recuperation, and the illuminations which followed were not so enthusiastically described as on some other occasions.

One caricaturist seems to have been gifted with prescience, for before the victory became known he had produced a caricature which was called ‘A Lecture on Heads,54 as Delivered by Marshalls Wellington and Blucher’ (artist unknown, June 21, 1815), which shews these heroes dealing death and destruction on the French all round them, making the heads fly all over the place. Blücher shouts out, ‘Blister ’em, Fire ’em, shoot ’em, Kick ’em, Lump ’em, Thump ’em, whack ’em, smack ’em.’ Wellington sings —

Bold as Hector or Macbeth,Ri tol, lol, la.Where’s the Fun like meeting Death,Tol de ridy Tol de ray.

‘Monkey’s Allowance, more Kicks than Dumplings. A Farce Perform’d with Great Eclat at the National Theatre in the Netherlands,’ is the title of a not particularly good picture by an unnamed artist in June 1815. It represents Napoleon, with his hands tied behind him, getting ‘Monkey’s Allowance’ from the principal sovereigns of Europe.

Wellington (sings whilst kicking him)Master Boney with his fol der lol, le,I buffet away on the plain, Sir;BLÜCHERAnd I’ll assist your Worship’s fist,With all my might and main, Sir.AUSTRIAAnd I’ll have a Thump,Although he’s so plump,PRUSSIAAnd we’ll make such a woundy racket,HOLLANDWe’ll ramp, we’ll swearRUSSIA AND SWEDENWe’ll tear – oh rare,LOUIS XVIIII warrant we’ll pepper his jacket.

‘R. Ackermann’s Transparency on the Victory of Waterloo’ is said to be by Rowlandson, and is without date. It, doubtless, was got up on the news of that great battle, but it is a very weak production. It simply represents Napoleon between Wellington and Blücher: the latter meets him with artillery, the former pursues him on horseback. Of course his crown has tumbled off. It is not an artistic picture by any means, but, doubtless, it evoked the enthusiasm of the masses, who were intoxicated with joy at the famous victory.

After the battle of Waterloo, Napoleon hastened to Paris, and, tired and covered with dust as he was, he immediately met his Ministers, and told them the extent of his disasters. They laid the intelligence before the Houses of Legislature, and on the morning of June 22 Napoleon received a deputation from the Chamber, who submitted to him that ‘the state of war in which France was involved concerned much less the nation than himself, and that the Assembly had the means at command, if he would act so disinterested a part as to restore to it freedom of action according as circumstances might dictate.’

This was a pretty broad hint to Napoleon to abdicate, and he took it as such, and sent the following reply: —

‘Frenchmen! When I began the war to uphold national independence, I relied on the union of all efforts, all wills, and on the co-operation of all national authorities. I was justified in anticipating success, and I braved all the declarations of the Powers against my person. Circumstances seem to be changed. I offer myself as a sacrifice to the hatred against France. May your enemies prove sincere, and may it appear that they wage war against me alone! My political life is terminated. I proclaim my son, under the title of Napoleon II., Emperor of the French. The present Ministers will form the Council of the Provisional Government. The interest which I take in my son induces me to invite the Chambers to organize a Regency without delay, by a special law. Unite for the general safety, and to secure national independence.

Napoleon.

At the Palace of the Elysée, the 22 June, 1815.

The ‘Times,’55 as usual, must speak bitter things of the fallen foe, and, anent his abdication, says, ‘The wretch, with the blood of so many thousands on his head, seemed to carry about him all the coolness of that apathy which is part of his physical constitution; and so degraded and demoralised are the Parisian populace, that they could see the butcher of their race without the least emotion. He is, however, spoken of in the journals, and in the debates, without any share of that respect which but lately was attached to his name. After his former abdication, he was invariably termed the “Emperor”; but now he is called nothing but plain Napoleon.’

CHAPTER LIX

NAPOLEON A PRISONER – SENT TO THE ISLE OF AIX – NEGOTIATIONS FOR SURRENDER – GOES ON BOARD THE ‘BELLEROPHON.’

Napoleon retired to Malmaison, but was not long there before General Becker came to him and informed him that he was appointed by the Provisional Government to command the troops detailed for his protection. Napoleon knew the meaning of this message, but even being made a prisoner by his own soldiery did not quell his spirit.

But the presence of Napoleon at Malmaison embarrassed the Government, and Becker had orders to convey Napoleon with all speed to the Isle of Aix. Accordingly they set out, and reached Rochefort on July 3, where he remained until the 8th, when he embarked on board the ‘Saale’ frigate, but without any hope of getting to sea, because of the blockade of the port by the ‘Bellerophon’ and other English men-of-war. He occasionally landed on the Isle of Aix; but all hopes of reaching America seem to have been abandoned, as Las Cases and Savary were sent on board the ‘Bellerophon’ to inquire of Captain Maitland whether he knew anything of the passports Napoleon expected from the British Government, and whether any opposition would be offered to his sailing to the United States. Captain Maitland replied that he knew nothing of the intentions of his Government, but he certainly could not allow any ship-of-war to leave the port, and in the course of conversation asked, ‘Why not seek an asylum in England?’

The hint thus dropped fructified; for, after another visit of Las Cases and General Lallemand on board the ‘Bellerophon’ on July 14, avowedly to repeat their previous questions, the matter was openly discussed, and on mentioning the result of their interview to the Emperor he agreed to this course, and desired Las Cases to tell Captain Maitland to prepare and receive him and his suite the next day. At the same time he entrusted General Gourgaud with an autograph letter to the Prince Regent, directing him to take it to England and deliver it into the Prince’s own hands.

From the date of this letter, which was the 13th, it would seem that Napoleon had, on the previous day, made up his mind what course to pursue. The following is the text of the letter: —

Your Royal Highness,

Exposed to the factions which divide my Country, and to the enmity of the greatest Powers of Europe, I have terminated my political career; and I come, like Themistocles, to throw myself upon the hospitality of the British People. I place myself under the protection of their laws, which I claim from your Royal Highness, as the most powerful, the most constant, and the most generous, of my enemies.

Napoleon.

Rochefort, 13th July, 1815.

On the 15th, then, Napoleon and suite went on board the ‘Bellerophon,’ where they were received by Captain Maitland and his officers; the Emperor saying, ‘I am come to throw myself on the Protection of your Prince and Laws.’

Caricature of such a scene seems to be in very bad taste, but as it was done, and is so truly comic, I cannot refrain from reproducing it.

‘Compliments and Congées, or Little Boney’s surrender to the Tars of Old England!!!’ is a highly humorous picture by G. Cruikshank (July 24, 1815). Napoleon surrenders himself, cringing and weeping, together with his suite, whom he describes, on board the ‘Bellerophon,’ and is received with due respect by Captain Maitland. The ex-Emperor says, ‘O, Mr. Bull, I am so happy to see you, I always had a great regard for the British Sailors, they are such noble fellows, so brave, so generous!! You see I am in a great deal of trouble, but I hope you will take pity on me and my suite, namely my barber, my cook, and my washerwoman, together with a few of my brave generals who ran away with me from the Battle of Waterloo, and I do assure you we will have great pleasure in surrendering to the good English – I should feel extremely obliged if you would take us to America, but if you will not, I beg you will take us to England, for I hate those Bears, and cursed Cossacks, and as for the French Nation now – why they may be d – d. Old England for ever I say.’ And his suite servilely follow their fallen master’s lead with cries of ‘Vivent les Anglais!’

Captain Maitland receives him with doffed hat and his hand on his heart, saying, ‘Indeed Mr. Boney I am greatly obliged to you for your compliments, and I assure you we are as happy to receive you, as you are to surrender. I’m afraid they would not take that care of you in America, that they will in England. Therefore I shall conduct you to the latter place, as quick as possible.’ The opinions of the sailors are more graphic than polite: ‘My eyes, what a sneaking hound he is!!’ ‘I say Jack, do you think they’ll clap him in Exeter Change amongst the wild beasts?’ ‘No, I suppose as how he’ll be put in the Monkey’s den in the Tower, or else they’ll send him about with the dancing bear!’

Charles etched (July 15, 1815) ‘The Bone-a-part in a fresh place.’ This represents Bonaparte caught in a spring man-trap, which has broken his leg. He surrenders his sword to John Bull, who is dressed as a gardener: ‘Here take this Mr. Bull, you have me in your power – I must trust to your usual generosity, and most humbly acknowledge that I am truly sorry I ever came here.’ John Bull makes no answer, but soliloquises thus instead: ‘He has plundered most of his neighbours’ Gardens, but I thought he would be sorry if ever he set his foot in mine. I suppose this big sword is what he intended to cut my cabbages with, and perhaps my head too! but I’ll have it for a pruning knife, ’twill serve me to lop his Branches with, if any should spring up after I have taken care of him.’

G. Cruikshank, in August 1815, published a contrast – ‘Buonaparte on the 17th of June – Buonaparte on the 17th of July, 1815.’ On the former date he is seen vapouring on the French coast, flourishing his sword, and calling out, ‘Ha, ha, you Bull beast, you Blackguard Islander, you see I am come back again, and now you shall see what I shall do with you, you wretch! you thought I was done over, did you? you thought I was going to stay at Elba? D – n all Elbas, abdications, Englishmen and their Allies. I’ll play Hell with them all.’ John Bull, seated securely on his own shore, calmly enjoying his tankard of ale and his long clay pipe, puffs out a huge mouthful of smoke at his adversary, with a contemptuous ‘You may be d – d. I’ll make a Tobacco stopper of you.’

But within one short month what a change had come over the scene! Napoleon, a weeping, kneeling suppliant, on board the ‘Bellerophon,’ moans out: —

O good Mr. Bull! I wish you to know(Although you are my greatest foe,)That my career is at an end:And I wish you now to stand my friend.For, though at the Battle of WaterlooI was by you beat black & blue,Yet you see I wish to live with you,For I’m sure what is said of your goodness is true.And now if in England you’ll let me remainI ne’er will be guilty of bad Tricks again.

John Bull, however, knowing the slippery customer he has to deal with, reflects: ‘Let me see; – first of all you sprung from the Island of Corsica, and when you was kick’d out of France, and went to the Island of Elba, you made another spring into France again. – And now when you are kick’d out of France a second time, you want to come and live on my Island– But it won’t do, Master Boney; – you’ll be making another spring into France again, I suppose – so I tell you what – I’ll send you to the Island of St. Helena, and we’ll see what sort of a spring you’ll make then.’

George Cruikshank contributes a very badly drawn etching (September 1, 1815) of ‘Boney’s threatened Invasion brought to bear, – or, taking a View of the English coast from ye Poop of the Bellerophon.’ The English coast is represented by a ‘Citadel,’ in front of which is a gallows prepared. One of his suite points it out to him: ‘By gar! mon Emperor, dey have erect von prospect for you.’ Napoleon, who is mounted on a breech of the gun, looks through his telescope and says, ‘Me no like the d – n prospect.’ A Jack Tar sitting on another gun gives as his opinion, ‘I thinks as how, Master Boney, that instead of sending you to Hell bay, they should have sent you to Hell at once.’

CHAPTER LX

NAPOLEON ON BOARD THE ‘BELLEROPHON’ – ARRIVAL AT TORBAY – CURIOSITY OF THE PEOPLE – THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT DETERMINE TO SEND HIM TO ST. HELENA

On board the ‘Bellerophon’ he was treated with every consideration by Captain Maitland. He was still looked upon as Emperor, and dined off his own gold plate, the dinner being ordered by his own maître d’hôtel; and when he visited the ‘Superb’ he was received with all the honours accorded to royalty, with the exception of a salute being fired. On the 16th July they set sail for England, and at daybreak on the 24th they were close to Dartmouth. Napoleon rose at six and went on the poop, surveying the coast, which he much admired: ‘What a beautiful country! it very much resembles Porto Ferrajo at Elba.’

About eight A.M. they anchored at Torbay, and no sooner was it known that Napoleon was on board the ‘Bellerophon’ than the bay was covered with vessels and boats full of people. A neighbouring gentleman sent the Emperor a present of fruit. What a different reception from the language of the ‘Times’56: —

‘Our paper of this day will satisfy the sceptics, for such there were beginning to be, as to the capture of that bloody miscreant, who has so long tortured Europe, Napoleon Buonaparte. Savages are always found to unite the greatest degree of cunning to the ferocious part of their nature. The cruelty of this person is written in characters of blood in almost every country in Europe, and in the contiguous angles of Africa and Asia which he visited and nothing can more strongly evince the universal conviction of his low, perfidious craft, than the opinion which was beginning to get abroad, that even after his capture had been officially announced, in both France, and England, he might yet have found means to escape. However, all doubts upon this point are at an end, by his arrival off the British coast; and, if he be not now placed beyond the possibility of again outraging the peace of Europe, England will certainly never again deserve to have heroes such as those who have fought, and bled, at Waterloo, for this, his present overthrow. The lives of the brave men who fell on that memorable day will have been absolutely thrown away by a thoughtless country; the grand object attained by their valour will have been frustrated, and we shall do little less than insult over their remains, almost before they have ceased to bleed. But Fortune, seconding their undaunted efforts, has put it in our power to do far otherwise.

‘Captain Sartorius of the Slaney frigate, arrived yesterday with dispatches from Captain Maitland of the Bellerophon, confirming all the antecedent accounts of Buonaparte’s surrender, with various other details, and closing them by their natural catastrophe – his safe conveyance to England. He is, therefore, what we may call, here. Captain Sartorius delivered his dispatches to Lord Melville, at Wimbledon, by whom their contents were communicated to Lord Liverpool, at his seat at Combe Wood; summonses were immediately issued for a Cabinet Council to meet at 12 o’clock; what passed there was, of course, not suffered to transpire; our narrative must therefore revert to the Slaney frigate, and the accounts brought by her. She had been sent forward by Captain Maitland to Plymouth, with the dispatches announcing that Buonaparte was on board the Bellerophon, with a numerous suite. But it was the intention of Captain Maitland himself, to proceed to Torbay, and not to land his prisoners until he had received orders from Government.

‘Buonaparte’s suite, as it is called, consists of upwards of 40 persons, among whom was Bertrand, Savary, Lallemand! Grogan,57 and several women. He has been allowed to take on board carriages and horses, but admission was denied to about 50 cavalry, for whom he had the impudence to require accommodation. This wretch has really lived in the commission of every crime, so long, that he has lost all sight and knowledge of the difference that exists between good and evil, and hardly knows when he is doing wrong, except he be taught by proper chastisement. A creature – who ought to be greeted with a gallows as soon as he lands – to think of an attendance of fifty horsemen! He had at first wanted to make conditions with Captain Maitland as to his treatment, but the British officer very properly declared that he must refer him upon this subject to his Government.

‘When he had been some time on board, he asked the Captain what chance two large frigates, well manned, would have with a seventy-four. The answer, we understand, which he received to this enquiry, did not give him any cause to regret that he had not tried his fortune in a naval combat with the relative forces in question. By the way, we should not have been surprised if he had come into an action with the two frigates, and then endeavoured to escape in his own, and leave the other to her fate. It has been the constant trick of this villain, whenever he has got his companions into a scrape, to leave them in it, and seek his own safety by flight. In Egypt, in the Moscow expedition, and at Waterloo, such was his conduct.

‘He likewise had the assurance to address a letter to the Prince Regent, and M. Grogan, one of his party, was put on board the Slaney as the bearer of it; but when this vessel reached Plymouth, the officer on duty there, with a decision that does him credit, refused Grogan permission to land: the letter is said to have been conveyed by Captain Sartorius, and its purport was understood, on board, to be a request for passports for America. We should have supposed that he had received too many checks before, for his presumption in addressing letters to the British Government, ever to have hazarded that experiment again; but all reproofs are thrown away upon his callous heart; – not that we should object to his humbly addressing the British throne for mercy, if he has anything to urge in extenuation of his crimes; but the time has not yet come; a momentary gleam of resolution on the part of his own Government, indicated by the imprisonment of Labédoyère, and others, led us to hope that his trial might have been safely entrusted to those to whom it primarily, and of natural right, belongs; but, though this hope may have proved transitory, he is not, therefore, above the criminal justice of other countries, where established law, and a regular execution of it, prevails.

‘The first procedure, we trust, will be a special commission, or the appointment of a court martial, to try him for the murder of Captain Wright. It is nonsense to say, as some have, that courts martial are instituted only to try offences committed by soldiers of the country to which they belong: it was an American court martial that tried and shot Major André as a spy; and Buonaparte himself appointed commissions of all kinds, and in all countries, to try offences committed against himself.’

The same paper says: ‘As soon as an august personage was informed of the capture of Buonaparte, he communicated this important intelligence to a prince of his family – “The ancient fable is at length realised: the Chimera is in the power of Bellerophon, and will not this time escape again.”

‘[Every reader knows that the Chimera was a terrible monster that vomited fire.]’

Rowlandson gives us (July 28, 1815) ‘Boney’s Trial, Sentence and Dying Speech, or Europe’s injuries revenged.’ Boney is in the felon’s dock, backed up by his old friend the Devil. His indictment sets forth thus: ‘Napolean Boneparte, The first and last, by the wrath of Heaven, Ex Emperor of Jacobins and Head Runner of Runaways, stands indicted 1st for the murder of Captain Wright, in the Temple at Paris. 2nd for the murder of the Duke d’Enghien, Pichegru and Georges. 3rd for the murder of Palm, Hofer, &c. &c. 4th for the murder of the 12 inhabitants of Moscow. 5th for innumerable Robberies committed on all Nations in Christendom, and elsewhere. 6th for bigamy, and lastly for returning from Transportation, and setting the World in an uproar.’ Blücher presides, assisted by all the European sovereigns, and gives sentence thus: ‘You, Nap Boneparte, being found guilty of all these crimes, it is fell to my lot to pronounce sentence of Death upon you. You are to be hung by the neck for one hour, till you are Dead, dead, dead, and your body to be chained to a mill stone, and sunk in the sea at Torbay.’