A NAVAL ENGAGEMENT--NAPOLEON’S TOUR IN GERMANY--DECLARATION OF
WAR WITH RUSSIA--ENTRY INTO WILNA--SMOLENSKO--BORODINO--ENTRY
INTO MOSCOW--BURNING OF THE CITY--NAPOLEON’S RETREAT.
The next caricature requires some little explanation. We find in the
‘Courier’ of September 20, 1811, the following paragraph:--‘Dover,
September 19. Early this morning we heard a heavy firing on the
opposite shore; it continued at times all the morning, and was very hot
about one o’clock; the wind is to the southward, and eastward, which
makes us hear very plain; no news has arrived as to the cause; by some
it is conjectured that Buonaparte is at Boulogne, and by others, that
the flotilla is out, and some of our cruisers firing at them. It still
continues, though not so heavy as in the early part of the day.’
Details did not arrive till the 22nd, and then the ‘Courier’ published
an account of the naval engagement off Boulogne, on which the
caricature is evidently grounded: ‘The cause of the incessant firing on
the French Coast, is now ascertained to be an engagement between the
_Naiad_, 3 sloops, and a cutter, and 7 large French praams, each as
large as a frigate, 11 gun brigs, and other small craft, 27 in all. The
following letter gives an account of the engagement:--We took the Port
Admiral in his praam, but afterwards ran off--However we took another,
and brought her away--Buonaparte saw the engagement--he was in a boat
with Marshall Ney.’
All accounts, though they do not agree in the number of French vessels
engaged, are singularly unanimous as to the presence of Napoleon and
Ney.
‘The first glorious exploit of the Invincible Flotilla. Devils among
the Flats, or Boney getting into Hot Water’ (unknown artist, September
20, 1811), represents one of the Flotilla returning much damaged, and
full of corpses, only the captain and a steersman alive on board.
Napoleon, who is in another boat, is in a fearful rage, tries to get at
him, and is restrained by one of his marshals (Ney)--who remarks, ‘Ma
foi, take care, your Majesty will be in hot water up to the chin’--from
throwing himself into the boiling water. ‘You scoundrel,’ says he, ‘how
dare you run away when you were 27 to 5. I’ll order the guns of the
batteries to sink every one of you.’ But the captain excuses himself,
‘Eh bien, mais, mon Empereur, you tell us de Jack Anglais be men, mais,
by Gar, we find dem Devils.’ To which a man in Napoleon’s boat replies,
‘Very true Monsieur Ney, de devils Jack Bulls make hot water all over
de Vorld.’ The spirit of Nelson appears, like a comet in the sky,
darting lightning at the Flotilla.
The year 1812 was not fruitful in caricature of Napoleon. In May,
accompanied by Maria Louisa, he visited the eastern part of France, met
the King and Queen of Saxony at Freyburg, and entered Dresden in state.
There he met the Emperor and Empress of Austria, the King of Prussia,
and the Kings of Saxony, Naples, Würtemberg, Westphalia, and Bavaria,
besides a heap of smaller potentates. The Emperor of Russia was not
present; he had concluded an alliance with Sweden against France,
an alliance which was afterwards, during this year, joined by Great
Britain. In June, Napoleon visited Dantzig, and left it on the 11th. As
a final measure, Count Lauriston was sent to Alexander, to see if the
difference could be patched up, but the breach was made inevitable by
the refusal of that monarch, or his ministers, to see him.
This decided Napoleon, and, from his head-quarters at Wilkowisky, he
issued the following proclamation: ‘Soldiers! the second war of Poland
has commenced. The first was terminated at Friedland and Tilsit. At
Tilsit, Russia swore eternal alliance with France, and war against
England. She has openly violated her oath; and refuses to render any
explanation of her strange conduct, till the French eagles shall
have repassed the Rhine, and, consequently, left their Allies at her
discretion. Russia is impelled onward by fatality. Her destiny is about
to be accomplished. Does she believe that we have degenerated? that we
are no longer the soldiers of Austerlitz? She has placed us between
dishonour and war: the choice cannot for a moment be doubtful. Let us
march forward then, and, crossing the Niemen, carry the war into her
territories! The second war of Poland will be to the French arms as
glorious as the first; but our next peace must carry with it its own
guarantee, and put an end to that arrogant influence which, for the
last fifty years, Russia has exercised over the affairs of Europe.’
In No. 1 of a series of caricatures on the Russian campaign, published
in April 1813, and seemingly by G. Cruikshank, is represented,
‘The Parting of Hector-Nap, and Andromache, or Russia threatened.’
Napoleon’s horse is waiting for him, the windows are crowded with
ladies to see the departure. Napoleon is ecstatic at the sight of
his little son, who is held aloft by Maria Louisa. The young King of
Rome flourishes a sword, and says, ‘I will kill the people, as my
Papa does.’ His mother wishes him to ‘Kiss him, then, my dear! and he
will bring you some of the naughty Russians to kill.’ Napoleon bids
‘Farewell! I go, I’ll see, I’ll conquer. On my return I’ll greet our
Son with a new Title.
That’s right, my boy, cause war to rage
And rise the Tyrant of a future age.’
Napoleon started on this disastrous campaign, which was the prelude to
his downfall, with an army of about four hundred and twenty thousand
men, most of them doomed to perish in the snows of Russia. The river
Niemen was crossed, and, on June 28, Napoleon made his public entry
into Wilna, which had not long since, and very hurriedly, been
evacuated by the Emperor Alexander.
But even the commencement of this campaign was marked by disaster.
Napoleon had arranged all the details; but the incompetence, or worse,
of his subordinates failed to carry them out. After the Niemen had
been crossed, not a third of the provisions necessary for the army
had arrived, and at Wilna it was found that some hundreds of men had
perished from want and fatigue. The mortality was worse among the
horses, having lost about ten thousand. Before a battle was fought,
and scarcely a month from the commencement of the campaign, there were
twenty-five thousand sick men in the hospitals at Wilna.
Napoleon waited a fortnight at Wilna; but the Russians were driven back
from Ostrovno, by Murat, and more time was consumed at Witepsk. Then
came the attack on Smolensko, on August 16 and 17, when the French lost
15,000, and the Russians 10,000 men, and the Russians still kept the
city. But next day, when the French again advanced against it, they
found it deserted. For this the Russian general, Barclay de Tolly, was
deprived of his command, forasmuch as he had given up a holy city to
the enemy without fighting a pitched battle for its preservation.
But, to proceed somewhat chronologically, we must remember that, on
July 22, Wellington gained a great victory at Salamanca, where the
French lost eleven pieces of cannon, two eagles, and six colours, one
general, 136 other officers, and 7,000 prisoners. The general public
did not know this news till the 4th of August, and the illuminations in
its honour did not take place till the 17th, 18th, and 19th of August.
It is to this event, doubtless, that the following refers.
In September 1812 was published a caricature of ‘British Welcome or a
Visit from the Bantam to the Lion.
Though Bantam Boney claps his wings,
Yet this we may rely on:
He’ll turn his tail and run away
Whene’er he meets the Lion.’
And that is precisely as he is represented in the caricature. The
pursuing lion says, ‘So, my little Bantam, you are come to pay me a
visit--Well lets have a shake of your claw.’ But the bantam, with a
very terrified expression of countenance, declines: ‘Excusé moi, Mons^r
le Lion, you gripe too hard.’
The battle of Borodino (or, as the French call it, Moskowa) was fought
on September 7, and was, probably, the bloodiest of all Napoleon’s
battles, but it laid Moscow open to the conqueror.
But soon the cloudless sun was gone,
And a thick fog arose thereon--
Nap prais’d the fog--indeed he did,
Because his movements would be hid--
And to the army, in array,
This was the order of the day--
‘Brave soldiers! fight for endless glory,
The wish’d-for field now lies before ye,
You’ll with abundance be supplied,
Good winter quarters, too, beside--
A quick return home--that is more;
Then fight, my lads, as heretofore;
Posterity will say--_There’s one
Who was at Moscow when ’twas won_.’
The French and Russians now engaged,
And furiously the battle raged;
In great confusion, and dismay,
Poor Boney’s scatter’d troops gave way;
Our hero his assaults repeated,
And still the wounded French retreated.
‘This battle,’ Nap exclaim’d, ‘has been,
The greatest that was ever seen.’
And true enough, our hero said,
For eighty thousand men lay dead.
The French entered Moscow on September 14, a day that Napoleon must
have bitterly rued. I do not think the burning of this city could be
better told than by Napoleon’s own words[24]: ‘Had it not been for
that fire at Moscow, I should have succeeded. I would have wintered
there. There were in that city about forty thousand citizens, who were,
in a manner, slaves. For you must know that the Russian nobility keep
their vassals in a sort of slavery. I would have proclaimed liberty to
all the slaves in Russia, and abolished vassalage and nobility. This
would have procured me the union of an immense and powerful party. I
would either have made a peace at Moscow, or else I would have marched
the next year to Petersburg.
‘Alexander was assured of it, and sent his diamonds, valuables,
and ships to England. Had it not been for that fire, I should have
succeeded in everything. I beat them, two days before, in a great
action at Moskowa; I attacked the Russian army of two hundred and fifty
thousand strong, entrenched up to their necks, with ninety thousand,
and totally defeated them. Seventy thousand Russians lay upon the
field. They had the impudence to say that they had gained the battle,
though two days after, I marched into Moscow. I was in the midst of a
fine city, provisioned for a year, for in Russia they always lay in
provisions for several months before the frost sets in. Stores of all
kinds were in plenty. The houses of the inhabitants were well provided,
and many had left their servants to attend upon us. In most of them
there was a note left by the proprietor, begging the French officers
who took possession to take care of their furniture and other things:
that they had left every article necessary for our wants, and hoped
to return in a few days, when the Emperor Alexander had accommodated
matters, at which time they would be happy to see us. Many ladies
remained behind. They knew that I had been in Berlin and Vienna with
my armies, and that no injury had been done to the inhabitants; and,
moreover, they expected a speedy peace. We were in hopes of enjoying
ourselves in winter quarters, with every prospect of success in the
spring. Two days after our arrival, a fire was discovered, which, at
first, was not supposed to be alarming, but to have been caused by the
soldiers kindling their fires too near the houses, which were chiefly
of wood. I was angry at this, and issued very strict orders on the
subject to the commandants of regiments and others.
‘The next day it had advanced, but still not so as to give serious
alarm. However, afraid that it might gain upon us, I went out on
horseback, and gave every direction to extinguish it. The next morning
a violent wind arose, and the fire spread with the greatest rapidity.
Some hundred miscreants, hired for that purpose, dispersed themselves
in different parts of the town, and, with matches, which they concealed
under their cloaks, set fire to as many houses to windward as they
could, which was easily done, in consequence of the combustible
materials of which they were built. This, together with the violence
of the wind, rendered every effort to extinguish the fire ineffectual.
I, myself, narrowly escaped with life. In order to shew an example, I
ventured into the midst of the flames, and had my hair and eyebrows
singed, and my clothes burnt off my back; but it was in vain, as they
had destroyed most of the pumps, of which there were above a thousand;
out of all these, I believe that we could only find one that was
serviceable. Besides, the wretches that had been hired by Rostopchin
ran about in every quarter, disseminating fire with their matches, in
which they were but too much assisted by the wind.
‘This terrible conflagration ruined everything. I was prepared for
everything but this. It was unforeseen, for who would have thought
that a nation would have set its capital on fire? The inhabitants
themselves did all they could to extinguish it, and several of them
perished in their endeavours. They also brought before us numbers of
the incendiaries, with their matches, as among such a _popolazzo_ we
never could have discovered them ourselves. I caused about two hundred
of these wretches to be shot.
‘Had it not been for this fatal fire, I had everything my army wanted:
excellent winter quarters; stores of all kinds were in plenty; and the
next year would have decided it. Alexander would have made peace, or
I would have been in Petersburg.’ I asked if he thought that he could
entirely subdue Russia. ‘No,’ replied Napoleon; ‘but I would have
caused Russia to make such a peace as suited the interests of France.
I was five days too late in quitting Moscow. Several of the generals
were burnt out of their beds. I, myself, remained in the Kremlin until
surrounded by flames. The fire advanced, seized the Chinese and India
warehouses, and several stores of oil and spirits, which burst forth in
flames, and overwhelmed everything.
‘I then retired to a country-house of the Emperor Alexander’s, distant
about a league from Moscow, and you may figure to yourself the
intensity of the fire, when I tell you that you could scarcely bear
your hands upon the walls or windows on the side next to Moscow, in
consequence of their heated state.
‘It was the spectacle of a sea and billows of fire, a sky and clouds of
flame; mountains of red rolling flames, like immense waves of the sea,
alternately bursting forth, and elevating themselves to skies of fire,
and then sinking into the ocean of flame below. Oh! it was the most
grand, the most sublime, and the most terrific sight the world ever
beheld.’
Napoleon, however, returned to the Kremlin on September 20, and, the
main portion of the building being uninjured, a theatre was improvised
therein. Early in October, he stated his determination to march on
St. Petersburg, but never acted on it. Instead, he entered into
negotiations for peace. Snow began to fall on October 13, a portent of
an early winter, and winter quarters must be found. Events, however,
did not march as he would have had them. On the 18th the Russians,
under Beningsen, attacked and defeated Murat, and on the 19th Napoleon
left Moscow, and the famous flight from thence began. Of the horrors
of that flight, it is hardly the province of this work to dilate
upon--mine is more to chronicle the feeling in England with regard
to the events then passing. It may be said that it was bad taste to
caricature such an appalling disaster--but when did a question of taste
deter a satirist or caricaturist? Take, as an instance, an event which
many of us well remember, the death of the Emperor Nicholas of Russia
in 1855. That solemn event might well have been passed by, but it was
food to the caricaturist, and he made money out of it. See ‘Punch’ of
March 10, 1855, and note the ghastly cartoon of ‘General Février turned
Traitor. “_Russia has Two Generals in whom she can confide--Generals
Janvier and Février._” Speech of the late Emperor of Russia.’
‘Jack Frost attacking Boney in Russia’ was published in November
1812. A fearful-looking monster, mounted on a northern bear, pursues
Bonaparte (who flees), pelting him all the way with huge snowballs.
Napoleon is on skates, and holds his poor frost-bitten nose, crying
out, ‘By gar, Monsieur Frost this is a much colder Reception than I
expected. I never experienced such a pelting before--I find I must take
care of my nose, as well as my toes. Pray forgive me this time, and I
swear by S^t Dennis never to enter your dominion again.’ Jack Frost
makes answer, ‘What, Master Boney! have I caught you at last. I’ll
teach you Russian fare. Take that, and that, as a relish, and digest
it.’
‘General Frost shaveing Little Boney’ (December 1, 1812) is very grim
in its humour. Bonaparte begs, but in vain, for pity: ‘Pray Brother
General, have Mercy. Don’t overwhelm me with your hoary element. You
have so nipped me, that my very teeth chatter. O dear--I am quite chop
fallen.’ But the unrelenting and unpitying Frost replies, ‘Invade my
Country, indeed! I’ll shave, freeze, and bury you in snow, you little
Monkey.’
‘Polish Diet with French Desert’ is the title of a caricature published
December 8, 1812. It represents Bonaparte spitted, and being roasted
before an enormous fire, on which is being cooked a frying-pan full of
frogs, which, however, jump out of it into the fire. A Westphalian bear
is turning the spit and jeering at the poor victim. ‘How do you like
_Benningsen baisting_, Master Boney? and your Frogs?’ This ‘Benningsen
baisting’ is being very liberally supplied to Boney by a gigantic
Russian, who holds a huge ladleful of it in one hand, whilst with the
other he grasps a red-hot poker of Russian iron. This ferocious Cossack
says, ‘I’ll Roast--Beast (baste)--Dish--& Devour you! He smoaks Brother
Bruin--another turn and he is done.’ Poor Napoleon, in his agony, calls
out, ‘Our situation may be fun to you, Mr. Bear--but Death to us.’
[Illustration: GENERAL FROST SHAVEING LITTLE BONEY.]
The following shows the estimation in which Bonaparte’s bulletins were
held by the English.
In December 1812 G. Cruikshank gave his idea of ‘Boney hatching
a Bulletin, or Snug Winter Quarters.’ With the exception of one
Frenchman, who wears pieces of board for snow-shoes, and who exclaims,
‘By Gar, he is almost lost!!’ Boney and all his army are up to their
necks in snow. A general asks him, ‘Vat de devil shall ve say in de
Bulletin?’ Boney replies, ‘Say!!!! why say we have got into comfortable
Winter Quarters, and that the weather is very fine, and will last 8
days longer. Say we have got plenty of Soup Maigre, plenty of Minced
Meat--Grill’d Bears fine eating--driving _Cut-us-off_ to the Devil. Say
we shall be at home at Xmas to dinner--give my love to darling--dont
let John Bull know that I have been Cow poxed--tell a good lie about
the Cossacks. D--n it, tell anything but the truth.’
[Illustration: RETREAT FROM MOSCOW.]
There was another version of ‘The Valley of the Shadow of Death,’
published December 18, 1812, but it is not so good as that by Gillray
already given (September 24, 1808):--
By conflagrations always harass’d,
No man was ever so embarrass’d;
He sought in vain a lurking place,
Destruction star’d him in the face;
Hemm’d in--he sought for peace in vain--
No peace could Bonaparte obtain;
He swore, when peace he could not get,
The Russians were a barb’rous set.
Intending now to change his rout,
He sent Murat on the look out;
Murat, tho’, met with a defeat,
Which play’d the deuce with Nap’s retreat.
How great was Bonaparte’s despair!
He raved, he swore, he tore his hair--
His troops were absolutely frozen,
No man was sure he had his nose on.
The Cossacks, too, made rude attacks,
And laid some hundreds on their backs;
So, in the midst of an affray,
Nap thought it best to run away.
According to the caricaturist, during the retreat Napoleon was nearly
caught by Cossacks, and only saved by jumping out of window; but as the
same story is told of him during his retreat from Leipsic, they may as
well be combined, and the reader will thus be enabled to apply it to
whichever event he prefers:--
He chang’d his dress--his horse bestrode,
And in full speed to Wilna rode;
As soon as he began to fly,
The Russians rais’d a _hue and cry_;
A great reward, as it is said,
Was offer’d for our hero’s head,
That some to take him might be bribed,
Thus Boney’s person was described--
His figure rather short and thin--
Black hair--black beard--projecting chin--
Nose aquiline, with marks of snuff,
Arch’d eyebrows--manners very rough--
Stern countenance, dress’d rather mean,
And in a grey surtout oft seen.
But, notwithstanding his dismay,
Poor Bonaparte got safe away.
When he to Wilna’s borders came,
He very wisely changed his name;
And in a sledge--’twas so contriv’d,
At Paris in the night arriv’d.
‘Nap nearly nab’d or a retreating jump just in time. _Never did_ trusty
squire with knight, Or knight with squire, e’er jump more right--Vide
Boney’s Russian Campaign,’ was published in June 1813. It shows the
Cossacks arriving, and Napoleon jumping out of window, to the great
detriment of the flower-pots, pigs, and poultry. A general inside the
house calls out, ‘Vite, Courez, mon Empereur, ce Diable de Cossack dey
spoil our dinner!!!’
[Illustration: BONAPARTE’S ESCAPE FROM COSSACKS.]
He by the Cossacks was pursued,
But luckily a dwelling view’d--
And, while his legions bravely fought,
Protection in this house he sought;
The guards, who had the place surrounded,
Were cut to pieces, kill’d and wounded.
Nap pricked his ears up at the rout,
He op’d the window and jump’d out--
Jump’d out! how great, then, was his dread,
Fell he upon his feet--or head?
No--not his feet--because he _sat_--
He could not fall like a Tom cat--
Nor would he break his pretty nose,
And so--another part he chose--
’Tis true--his bum was very sore,
His breeches, here and there, he tore;
But such a trifle little matters,
A Man can run altho’ in tatters--
So oft was Boney sore afraid
That he a pris’ner might be made;
But, as the man would fain his cracks hide,
He tuck’d his skirts about his backside.
There is another caricature of Napoleon’s escape from the Cossacks,
by G. Cruikshank, published some time in 1813, entitled ‘The Narrow
escape, or Boney’s Grand Leap _à la Grimaldi_!! No sooner had Napoleon
alighted & entered a miserable house for refreshment, than a party
of Cossacks rushed in after him. Never was Miss Platoff so near
Matrimony!!! Had not the Emperor been very alert at Vaulting, and leapt
through the Window, with the nimbleness of an Harlequin, while his
faithful followers were fighting for his life, there would, probably,
have been an end at once to that Grand Bubble, the French Empire.’
There is nothing particular about this picture; it is the same as the
others--the same Cossacks, and the same episode of the leap.