CHAPTER LII.

NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS--HIS RECEPTION.

‘Grasp all Lose all--_Atlas_ enraged--or the punishment of unqualified ambition’ is the title of a picture (December 1, 1813) which represents Atlas, who is kneeling down, preparing to drop the whole world on Napoleon. The latter, who has been touching those parts of the earth which are in his possession, and boasting, ‘France be mine! Holland be mine! Italy be mine! Spain and Poland be mine! Russ, Prussia, Turky, de whole world vil be mine!!!!’ staggers back, exclaiming, ‘Mons. Atlas, hold up, dont let it fall on me.’ Atlas, whose look is fearful, says, ‘When the Friends of Freedom, and Peace, have stopped your shaking it on my shoulders, and got their own again, I’ll bear it. Till then you may carry it yourself, Master Boney.’ Russia and Prussia are rushing away in fright. Says one, ‘By Gar ’tis true, ’tis fall on you Head! votre Serviteur! we no stop to be crush vid you.’

This very clever caricature portrait of Napoleon was published by Ackermann, 101 Strand, on December 1, 1813. It is in the form of a broadside, and contains the following letterpress:--

NAPOLEON the FIRST and LAST, by the wrath of Heaven Emperor of the Jacobins, Protector of the Confederation of Rogues, Mediator of the Hellish League, Grand Cross of the Legion of Horror, Commander in Chief of the Legions of Skeletons left at Moscow, Smolensk, Leipzig, &c. Head Runner of Runaways, Mock High-Priest of the Sanhedrim, Mock Prophet of Mussulmen, Mock Pillar of the Christian Faith, Inventor of the Syrian Method of disposing of his own sick by sleeping Draughts, or of captured enemies by the Bayonet; First Grave Digger for burying alive; Chief Gaoler of the Holy Father and of the King of Spain, Destroyer of Crowns, and Manufacturer of Counts, Dukes, Princes, and Kings; Chief Douanier of the Continental System, Head Butcher of the Parisian, and Toulouese, Massacres, Murderer of Hofer, Palm, Wright, nay of his own Prince, the noble and virtuous Duke of Enghien, and of a thousand others; Kidnapper of Ambassadors, High Admiral of the Invasion Praams, Cup Bearer of the Jaffa Poison, Arch Chancellor of Waste paper Treaties, Arch Treasurer of the Plunder of the World, the sanguinary Coxcomb, Assassin, and Incendiary ... to MAKE PEACE WITH!!!

This Hieroglyphic Portrait of the DESTROYER is faithfully copied from a German Print, with the Parody of his assumed Titles. The Hat of the Destroyer represents a discomfited French Eagle, maimed and crouching, after his Conflict with the Eagles of the North. His _visage_ is composed of the Carcases of the Victims of his Folly and Ambition, who perished on the plains of Russia and Saxony. His throat is encircled with the _Red Sea_, in allusion to his Drowned Hosts. His Epaulette is a _Hand_, leading the Rhenish Confederation, under the flimsy Symbol of a _Cobweb_. The _Spider_ is an Emblem of the Vigilance of the Allies, who have inflicted on that Hand a deadly Sting!

‘The Corsican Munchausen humming[32] the Lads of Paris’ (Rowlandson, December 4, 1813) shews Napoleon and his son on a stage, upon which is a throne, tottering, and an overthrown globe. The King of Rome is dressed in counterpart of his father, with long trailing sword, and using a stick as a _cockhorse_. Napoleon is vapouring to the assembled audience: ‘Did I not swear I would destroy Austria? Did I not swear I would destroy Prussia? Did I not leave the Russians 1200 pieces of cannon to build a monument of the victory of Moscow? Did I not lead 498,000 men to gather fresh laurels in Russia. Did I not burn Moscow and leave 400,000 brave soldiers to perish in the snow for the good of the French Nation? Did I not swear I would destroy Sweden? Did I not swear I would have Colonies and Commerce? Did I not build more ships than you could find sailors for? Did I not burn all the British Produce bought, and paid for, by my faithful merchants, before their faces, for the good of them, and my good people of Paris? Have I not called my troops from Holland, that they might not winter in that foggy Climate? Have I not called my troops from Spain, and Portugal, to the ruin of the English? Did I not change my religion, and turn Turk, for the good of the French Nation? Have I not blown up the Corporal for blowing up the Bridge? Have I not robbed the Churches of twenty flags to send to my Empress, for the loss of my own flags and Eagles? And now, for the good of my Empire, Behold! O ye Lads of Paris! I have put the _King of Rome_ in _breeches_.’

Rowlandson gives us ‘Funcking[33] the Corsican’ (December 6, 1813). A representation of all the crowned heads of Europe, each of whom is smoking a pipe very vigorously, uniting in tormenting Bonaparte with their tobacco smoke. The little Corsican, who is on the top of a cask of ‘Real Hollands Geneva,’ is dancing with rage, and yells out: ‘Oh you base Traitors and Deserters, Eleven Hundred Thousand Lads of Paris shall roast every one of you as soon as they can catch you!’ In his excitement he has split the head of the cask, and there seems every probability of his disappearing. ‘The fly that sips, is lost in the sweet.’

‘The Mock Phœnix!!! or a vain attempt to rise again’ is by Rowlandson (December 10, 1813). Napoleon is in a furnace, which is being diligently stoked and blown by Russia and Holland. Serpents come from the mouth of the furnace, and the soots, the products of combustion, take the form of fiends--Napoleon is partially consumed, and his crown is in a blaze.

‘Friends or Foes--Up he goes--Sending the Corsican Munchausen to St. Clouds’ is by Rowlandson (December 12, 1813), and shows the whole of the sovereigns of Europe combining to toss Napoleon in a blanket.

A most amusing caricature by Rowlandson (December 14, 1813) is ‘Political Chemists and German Retorts, or dissolving the Rhenish confederacy.’ John Bull naturally finds coal for a ‘German Stove,’ the fire in which a Dutchman blows with a pair of bellows. All the sovereigns of Europe stand round, enjoying Boney’s discomfiture. The Emperor, who is vainly appealing to them, ‘Oh spare me till the King of Rome is ripe for mischief yet to come,’ is being put into a glass receiver, and is about to be covered up. Bernadotte is pouring in a bottle of sulphate of Swedish iron, and the Pope is hurrying forward with two bottles, one of fulminating powder, the other a vial of wrath. The products being distilled from him are Intrigue and Villainy, Ambition and Folly, Gasconade and Lies, Fire and Sword, Arrogance and Atrocity, Murder and Plunder. A Spaniard is pounding at a mortar inscribed ‘Saragossa.’

In ‘Town Talk’ (December 1, 1813) is published ‘Gasconading--alias the Runaway Emperor Humbugging the Senate.

Some are Short and some are Tall, But it’s very well known that he hums them all, And then sings fal de ral tit.’

Napoleon crowned, and _en grande tenue_, stands before the throne, pointing to some trophies borne by soldiers, and thus addresses the Senate: ‘Senators! the glorious success of our Arms has forced me to give way to the impulse of quitting the field of honour, that I might have the satisfaction of presenting to my faithful Senate the glorious trophies of our Victories. Senators! your restless, envious enemies shall be humbled to the dust; your Emperor wills it so; this Arrogant Confederacy shall be punished for their temerity, and our brave Soldiers shall repose in peace. Senators! for this purpose I shall require the small sum of 250,000,000, a sum the flourishing state of our finance will easily produce, and, to replace the vacancy made in my Army, 500,000 (men) from the conscription of 4 years to come will be all that I demand. Frenchmen, the Will of your Emperor, and the glory of the great Nation, requires it.’ The Devil, peeping round from behind the throne, applauds: ‘That’s right my Boy. Humbug them out of another conscription to send me, before you come yourself.’

One Senator, as spokesman, thus addresses Napoleon: ‘Great Emperor of the Great Nation, the Senate devotes the lives and property of the People to your service.’ But this does not appear to be the universal consensus of opinion; for one grumbles, ‘C’est dire un peu trop, cela!’ Another asks: ‘What has he done with the last Grand Army, that he wants so many again?’ and one replies: ‘They are gone to see how their friends in Russia do.’ Another doubts the authenticity of the trophies: ‘Why! these trophies belong to our Allies, c’est drôle cela!’

On December 12, 1813, George Cruikshank published ‘Bleeding and Warm Water! or the Allied Doctors bringing Boney to his Senses.’ Here poor Boney is in very evil case. With shaven head, and in an ‘Allied strait waistcoat’ (one sleeve of which is held by Russia, the other by Poland), he is seated on the stool of Repentance in a tub of hot water, consisting of a ‘sea of troubles,’ which is warmed by the flames of Moscow. He is surrounded by all the European sovereigns as doctors, each of whom prescribes his own remedy. Russia gives, as his opinion: ‘I have found a constant application of this Russian _Knout_ to work wonders!!’ John Bull is giving him a fearful bolus, ‘Invasion of France,’ saying at the same time, ‘Work away my Masters, I’ll pay you your _fees_. Ay, ay, rave and rant, Master Boney, but the Devil will _Bone_ you at last.’ Holland is trying ‘what _Dutch drops_ will do,’ by emptying out of a huge cannon a legion of armed Dutchmen on his shaven head. Poland bleeds him by stabbing his arm with a lance, and Prussia catches the blood in a ‘Crown bowl,’ congratulating himself, ‘I think my _Crown_ Razors have shaved his _Crown_ pretty close.’ Spain is applying a plaster to his back: ‘Here is a Plaster of Spanish flies for him.’ Poor Boney, one of whose legs is in the hot water, resists this treatment as far as possible, and yells out, ‘Hence with your Medicines--they but drive me Mad. Curse on your _Dutch Drops_, your _Leipsig Blister_, and your _Spanish flies_; they have fretted me to what I am. D--n your _Cossack Lancets_, they have drained my veins, and rendered me poor and vulnerable indeed--Oh! how I am fallen--But I will still struggle--I will still be great--Myriads of Frenchmen still shall uphold the glory of my name, the grandeur of my Throne, and write my disgrace in the hearts of ye--ye wretched creatures of English gold.’

‘The Head of the Great Nation in a Queer Situation,’ by G. Cruikshank (December 1813), shows frightened Bonaparte, his magic wand broken, surrounded by his enemies. Wellington points a huge blunderbuss at him, telling the others to ‘Take a good aim at the Head, gentlemen, and we shall soon settle the business.’ Austria, Prussia, and Russia all point pistols at his head. Prussia thinks that ‘by Gar, we shall make de Head look like de Plumb Pudding;’ and Russia says, ‘I’ll rattle a few Snow balls at his Cranium.’ Holland has a cannon which he is filling with bales of Orange Boven, saying, ‘I’ll deal out my oranges to him wholesale.’ From the heavens, the hand of Justice is putting the ‘Allied Extinguisher’ upon him. This picture is copied bodily from a French caricature, ‘Le Chef de la Grande Nation dans une triste position.’

On December 25, 1813, was published one of Rowlandson’s caricatures called the ‘Mock Auction--or Boney selling Stolen Goods.’ There is an announcement that ‘speedily will be sold the 13 cantons of Switzerland,’ and, among the property he has for sale, are the Papal Tiara, and several crowns, a lot of useless eagles, the kingdom of Bavaria, twenty flags the property of the Empress, the kingdom of Prussia, Saxony, kingdom of Westphalia, and the United Provinces. Some French officers are among the audience, which includes the crowned heads of Europe. The crown of Spain is on sale, and is lifted upon high for inspection. Spain jeeringly asks: ‘That a Crown? It’s not worth half a crown.’ Napoleon, seeing no chance of selling it, says: ‘What! no bidding for the Crown of Spain. Then take the other crowns and lump them into one lot.’ Maria Louisa carries the King of Rome, who is like a little monkey, and who exclaims: ‘I suppose daddy will put us up for sale.’