REJOICINGS IN ENGLAND OVER THE RESULT OF NAPOLEON’S RUSSIAN
CAMPAIGN--THE EMPEROR’S RETURN TO FRANCE.
One of the last caricatures of this year is a very elaborate
picture--‘The Arms and Supporters of Napoleon Bonaparte the self
created Emperor, alias the Corsican, and now the Curse of Europe.’ It
was published December 1812, but the artist is unknown, which is a
pity, as the execution is very good. The animus that inspired it will
be seen in the following Explanation, which accompanies it:--
The Crest represents the World, which, England and Sweden
excepted, is set on fire everywhere by the incendiary
Corsican; his bloody actions and designs are expressed by
the bloody hand and dagger reaching towards Spain. Tyranny,
Hypocrisy, Barbarity and Villany are his standards, which are
distinguishable through the smoke, and the fire, and have
nearly enveloped the whole Globe.
His supporters are The French Devil, and the Corsican Devil.
The French Devil, or _le diable boiteux_, formerly a Nobleman
and a priest: any body may easily guess that he, and
Talleyrand, are one and the same creature: by the hour glass he
indicates, however, that time is running away, and that Boney’s
downfall is fast approaching. The Gallic cock destroying
religion is his emblem.
The Corsican Devil, who, being intoxicated with unbounded
ambition, wears an Iron crown ornamented with thorns: he cuts
down the cap of liberty, because tyranny is his idol. The
Serpent and the hyena are very proper emblems of his infamous
character and conduct.
_Description of the Arms divided into Eight Quarters._
1. The Mushroom on a dunghill denotes his descent, or origin of
family. The Crocodile expresses his treacherous transactions in
Egypt, his apostacy, and his cowardly desertion from his army.
The bloody hand, the guillotine, and the black heart, can only
belong to such a monster.
2. Represents the shooting of 800 defenceless Turkish
prisoners, near the town of Jaffa, ordered very coolly by the
monster Boney.
3. Shews the poisoning his own sick soldiers in the hospital at
Jaffa, by his express orders.
4. Exhibits a scene never known before in the Civilized World.
The foul murder (for it cannot be called anything else, though
Boney excuses it by his mock Court Martial) of the Duke
d’Enghien.
5. Here the monster compels the Pope to come to Paris, and to
assist at a blasphemous coronation, where Boney stands upon no
ceremony with the Holy Father. Boney puts on the iron crown
himself with one hand, whilst the other hand is employed in
robbing the Catholic Church of its head.
6. Exhibits another shocking scene; the truly English patriot,
Captain Wright, is put to death, because he will not be a
traitor to his king and country.
7. Here we behold the massacre of the defenceless citizens of
Madrid, on the 2nd of May, 1808.
8. Represents the imprisonment of King Ferdinand the 7th
because he will not renounce the Crown of Spain, nor marry
Boney’s niece.
The Motto is taken from Proverbs, chapter xxviii. verse 15--‘As a
roaring lion, and a ranging bear, so is a wicked ruler over the poor
people.’
On December 16 of this year was published an ‘Extraordinary Gazette’
which perfectly electrified this country. It contained detailed reports
of the successes over the French--news which filled every English heart
with joy.
The ‘Times’ of December 17 says:--‘We hardly know the terms in which
we are to address the people of this and every other European country,
on the subject of the _Extraordinary Gazette_ contained in this day’s
paper. It does more than confirm our hopes--it does more than justify
the ardent expressions of triumph, in which we indulged yesterday.
And really, in speaking of the successes of the Russians, we are
obliged to abate the excess of our joy. Not from any doubt of their
magnitude, or reality, for upon these our countrymen may rely; but from
mere apprehension, lest the vicissitude of human affairs, which does
not usually suffer mankind to exult beyond measure upon any occasion
whatever, should, by we know not what unexpected reverse, abate
somewhat of the transcendent felicity which is promised the world,
by the overthrow, and disgrace, of its most detested and detestable
tyrant. We shall only say, therefore, in so many words, that Buonaparte
is wholly defeated in Russia; he is conquered, and a fugitive. And what
can we say more? We have seen his army pass from victory to victory;
we have seen it overthrow kingdoms, and subjugate realms,--insult
sovereigns, and oppress peasants--violate every human right, and
diffuse every species of human misery. And now where is it? Where shall
we look for it? “A wide and capable destruction hath swallowed it up.”
In this awful event we rather admire in humility the dispensations of
Providence, than exult with pride over the fall of a haughty foe; it is
hardly to be viewed as an occurrence between man and man, or between
nation and nation; but as a divine judgment upon the earth.’
To give an idea of the state of tension at which men’s minds then
were held, I may be pardoned if I give the following extract[25]: ‘He
[Professor Sedgwick] gave a curious account of Commemoration Day, on
December 16, 1812. He was then a Fellow, and, on that day, not feeling
well, had not been drinking his port wine so freely in the Combination
Room, as it was, in those days, the custom of the Fellows to do. A man,
he said, who did not then drink pretty hard, was considered a milksop.
Leaving the other Fellows over their wine, he went to the gate, where
the porter gave him a Newspaper, on opening which, he found the
official announcement by Napoleon of the destruction of his grand army
(_sic_). With this news he returned to the Combination Room, and there
read the tidings, to the intense joy and excitement of all present.
_Old and young_, he said, _wept like children_.’[26]
The Russians estimated the French losses by capture from their first
invasion of Russia to December 26, 1812, at 41 generals, 1,298 inferior
officers, 167,510 non-commissioned officers and privates, and 1,131
pieces of cannon.
Buturlin estimated the total loss sustained by the French in the
Russian campaign at ‘Slain in battle, one hundred and twenty-five
thousand; died from fatigue, hunger, and cold, one hundred and
thirty-two thousand; prisoners (comprehending forty-eight generals,
three thousand officers, and upwards of one hundred and ninety thousand
men), one hundred and ninety-three thousand; total, four hundred
and fifty thousand,’ and this takes no count of the thousands of
non-combatants who perished.
The destruction of his army, his crushing defeat, and Mallet’s
conspiracy, all determined Napoleon to return to France, and he reached
Paris about half-past eleven at night on December 18. How different
from his hitherto triumphal entries! Maria Louisa had retired to rest,
and was woke by the cries of her attendants, who were frightened at
the sight of a man muffled up in furs, not knowing he was their august
master. And thus he slunk home!
In June 1813 was published ‘Naps glorious return or the conclusion of
the Russian Campaign.
A few Usurpers to the Shades descend.
By a dry death, or with a quiet end.’
In this plate we see Maria Louisa preparing to go to bed, Madame
Letitia, Napoleon’s mother, pulling off her stockings. The old lady
cries out, ‘Ah, de Ghost!! de Ghost of mon Nap.’ The Empress is
frightened, and exclaims, ‘Jesu Maria, what is this so woe begone? It
cannot be my husband, he promised to return in triumph, it must be his
Ghost.’ Even his little boy, the King of Rome, doubts his identity.
He is getting ready for bed, and already has his nightcap on, but he
runs away in fright, crying, ‘That ain’t my Papa!! he said he would
bring me some Russians to cut up. I think they have cut him up.’ Whilst
Bonaparte, who enters in a most dilapidated condition, with his toes
coming through his boots, his sword and scabbard broken, and his face
besmeared with dirt, calls out dolefully, ‘Me voici! your poor Nap
escape from de Cossack--by gar, I jump out of de window for my life,
and I now jump into bed vid my wife.’ The ladies-in-waiting have
fainted, and one, having left the warming-pan in the bed, has set it on
fire, and it is burning brightly.
On January 1, 1813, was published another caricature of the retreat
from Moscow: ‘Boney returning from Russia covered with Glory, leaving
his Army in _Comfortable_ Winter Quarters.
Nap and Joe, from France would go
To fill the world with slaughter,
Joe fell down, and broke his crown,
And Nap came tumbling after.’
Napoleon, with one of his generals, is in full retreat, in a sledge,
leaving his army pursued by the Russians, and the ground strewn with
dead men and horses. The general asks, ‘Will your Majesty write the
Bulletin?’ ‘No,’ answers Napoleon, ‘you write it! tell them we have
left the Army all well, quite gay, in excellent Quarters, plenty of
provisions--that we travelled in great Style--received everywhere with
congratulations, and that I have almost compleated the _repose of
Europe_.’
George Cruikshank (February 22, 1813) produced, after a picture by
David, a most laughable caricature, called ‘The Hero’s Return.
Dishonest, with lopp’d arms, the man appears,
Spoil’d of his nose, and shorten’d of his ears.
She scarcely knew him, striving to disown
His blotted form, and blushing to be known.’
Dryden’s _Virgil_, Book 6.
Poor Napoleon, in very evil case, _sans_ nose, ears, fingers, and
toes, is borne in, supported by two Mamelukes, and riding on the back
of another, who is on all fours. The Empress is tearing her hair, and
weeping violently, whilst a maid-of-honour is holding a smelling-bottle
to her nose. Another lady-in-waiting has seized the King of Rome, who
is yelling with fright at the sight his father presents. His very dog
barks at him, and universal consternation prevails. The Oriental on the
floor holds a glass bottle containing Napoleon’s nose; whilst three
others in the rear bear respectively bottles which hold the Emperor’s
fingers, toes and ears.
After the return of Napoleon from Moscow, the following _jeu d’esprit_
was published:--
When Emperor Nap to France returned,
He much admired his boy;
The nurse, whose anxious bosom burned
T’ increase the father’s joy.
‘How much he talks! how much he’s grown!’
Would every moment cry;
‘Besides he has learnt to run alone.’
Says Boney, ‘So have I.’
Here is another:--
NAPOLEON A RUNAWAY FROM HIS ARMY.
‘A new Achilles, I,’ spake Gaul’s stern chief,
Nor spake a lie--albeit he _were_ a thief;
For, like Achilles, to the untimely grave
Hosts he had hurled, the bravest of the brave;
Insate of wrath, stiffnecked, implacable,
Wrecker of towns; and fleet of foot as well;
So like was he in much; yet not in all;--
The heel, that slew the Greek, has saved the Gaul.
Napoleon was not the man to sit still under defeat, and, very shortly
after his return, he set himself to repair losses. These were heavy;
there was an entirely new artillery to be provided, remounts for his
cavalry, and, what was of the greatest importance, a new army to be
made. This he got by anticipating the conscription of 1814, and the
patriotism of his people helped him largely with the remainder. The
caricaturist has sharp eyes, and he produced ‘Bonaparte reviewing his
Conscripts,’ which is an anonymous picture, dated February 23, 1813,
and represents the Emperor, who is mounted on a jackass, and who has a
very motley following, reviewing his Dutch light horse, who are mounted
on frogs, every man with a keg of Hollands under his arm.
There is a very comical picture of ‘Bonaparte addressing the
Legislative Body’ after his return from Russia (designed December 1,
1812, published February 24, 1813). Here the discomfited Emperor is in
very sorry plight: his coat is in tatters, his breeches cover only a
very small portion of his legs, his toes are well out of his boots, and
he in vain tries, with his handkerchief, to stop the tears which flow
so copiously, as he says, ‘I myself entered Russia. The Russian Armies
could not stand before our armies. The French Arms were constantly
victorious--A swarm of Tartars turned their parricidal hands against
the finest provinces of that vast Empire which they had been called
upon to defend--But the excessive and premature rigour of the winter
brought down a heavy calamity upon my army--In a few nights I saw
everything change.--The misfortunes produced by rigour of hoar frosts,
have been made apparent in all their extent--I experienced great
losses--they would have broken my heart, if under such circumstances,
I could have been accessible to any other sentiments than those of the
interest--the glory--and the future prosperity of my people--I have
signed with the Pope, a Concordat, which terminates all the differences
that unfortunately had arisen in the Church--The French Dynasty
reigns--and will reign in Spain--I am satisfied with all my allies--I
will abandon none of them--The Russians shall return into their
frightful climate.’
On March 6, 1813, appeared ‘The Wags of Paris or Downfall of Nap
the Great. “But the circumstance said to have annoyed the Emperor
most, was, some Wags of Paris taking of Dogs, and for sev’ral nights
together, tied Tin Kettles to their tails, and labels round their
necks, with the words ‘Run away from Moscow,’ & giving them liberty,
they ran with velocity, and fury, in various directions, to the great
Entertainment of the Parisians.” _Courier 1 Mar. 1813._’ One of these
dogs has got between Napoleon’s legs, and is throwing him down, while
he calls out, ‘Sacré Dieu!! Plot Anglais!! Not a Dog in Paris but shall
feel my Vengeance!! Shoot! hang them all! Not the Empress’s Favorite
shall escape. D--d John Bull--d--d Russian bears, not content with
hunting Me from the _frightful climate_, but sends Mad Dogs to Hunt
Me in my own Capital!!!’ The Governor of Paris replies, ‘Sire, be
pacified. All the Dogs in Paris shall be tried by a Military Commission
for a Conspiracy against your Sacred Majesty. All John Bull’s bull dogs
shall be destroyed! Pomeranian Danish Mastiffs & all but your Majesty’s
own breed of _Blood hounds_.’
‘Anticipation for _Boney_--or, a Court Martial on the Cowardly Deserter
from the Grand Army,’ by G. Cruikshank (March 6, 1813), is an imaginary
scene of what might happen, did the Emperor meet with his deserts. The
Parisian mob have the upper hand, and a cobbler has been proclaimed
Emperor in his stead. Before this awful being, Boney is dragged by a
ferocious butcher, who, with an enormous axe in one hand, holds in the
other the halter which encircles the neck of poor trembling Boney, who
is on his knees, with upraised, supplicating hands. The _sans-culotte_
Emperor Crispin is seated in a chair, on a _haut pas_; a cap of
liberty, on a pole, behind him. In one hand he holds a hammer, and one
foot rests on a lapstone. Pointing to the wretched culprit, he says,
‘Well! you are found guilty of cowardly deserting from the grand army,
and, by repairing here with your cobbling defence, you have done a d--d
bad job for yourself, and, as your time waxes near its end, I would
have you prepare your Sole for your Last. So off with his head, Mr.
Butcher.’ The butcher looks unutterable things at Boney, saying, ‘Ah,
D--n you we’ll cut off your head, and your Tail too!’ The poor craven
wretch, with streaming eyes, and upstanding hair, pitifully supplicates
that at all events his head should be spared. But the yelling mob cry
out, ‘Off with his head.’ ‘Aye, Aye, he has butchered Millions.’ And
the women and children scream, ‘Where’s my husband, wretch?’ ‘Where’s
my Father?’ ‘Where’s my Daddy?’ &c.
Drilling went on, a necessary step to the formation of a new army,
and the French temperament is well shown in a caricature, published
in April 1813, of ‘Nap reviewing the Grand Army, or the Conquest of
Russia anticipated,’ in which, during the march past, he points to his
soldiers with his sword, and says to two of his generals, ‘With this
Army will I crush those Russian Scourges, and make all Nations tremble
at my wrath.’ One general, in his enthusiasm, exclaims, ‘Parbleu!
vid dis Armée ve vil conquer de Heaven!!!’ The other, evidently an
Anglophobe, says, ‘And de Hell too, dat we may send dere de dam
Anglais.’
In April Napoleon judged that his army was in a fit state to take the
field, and the caricaturist’s idea of a council of war is humorously
told in the picture of ‘Boney and the Gay lads of Paris calculating
for the next Triumphal entry into Moscow.’ This broadside, which made
its appearance in April 1813, represents Bonaparte and his generals
in council. The latter are in different stages of dilapidation, some
having lost their noses, others with their feet bound up, and all more
or less suffering from frost-bite. One, pointing to a map, says, ‘By
Gar, Sire, we had better go to Petersburgh at once.’ Napoleon replies,
‘Aye, and then we can march to Siberia, and release the Exiles, who
will gladly join us, and abjure their tyrant.’ Two generals, in
conversation together, do not seem to relish the plan. One remarks,
‘Sacre Dieu, I no like de Russia Campaign. I lose my nose, my fingers,
and toes, in de last.’ And the other replies, ‘Eh bien, den now we lose
all our odds and ends.’ The letterpress is as follows:--
Master Boney was fain, after fighting with Spain,
And loseing some thousands of men;
To make an attack on the Russian Cossack,
With Nations to assist him full Ten.
He began with a boast, that he’d scower their Coast,
And drive them all into the Sea;
He continued his blow, till he got to Moscow,
His designed Winter quarters to be.
But when he got there, Lord how he did stare
To see the whole place in a flame,
Not a house for his head, not a rug for his bed,
Neither plunder, nor victuals, nor fame. ·
So he sent every Scout, who ran in and out,
But brought neither forage, nor food;
For that d--d Wittgenstein, so compleat hem’d him in,
That they dared not to venture a rood.
Now the fire having ceas’d, and the frost much encreas’d,
No cov’ring, no clothes to protect ’em;
Boney thought to be packing, Kutusoff began hacking,
And the Cossacks did fairly dissect ’em.
Says this Corsican wight, Why let my Friends fight,
As for me, the old Proverb I’ll follow,
He that fights and then runs, may, in spite of their guns,
Live! and some future day beat them hollow.
But take care, Master Nap, you meet with no trap,
To poke either leg or your head in;
Loss of legs stops your flight, lose your head, why the sight
Will be welcome at Miss Platoff’s[27] wedding.
In a sledge it is said, this King was convey’d,
Like a criminal back into France;
But his Army and Friends, to make them amends,
He gave them a precious cold dance.
The frost kill’d one half, the rest Kutusoff
Kill’d, or prisoners made in their flight;
Thus the Russians did beat Nap and Friends so compleat,
That no Armies e’er suffered such plight.
Now this madman, ’tis said, has ta’en in his head
To attempt at another Campaign,
With but half of his friends, yet still he intends
To venture to Moscow again.
But if Nap, and Ten more, were beaten before,
By raw Russian troops single handed;
With what chance can he hope against Russia to cope,
When their force with Allies is extended?
No, No, Master Nap, you’ll not feather your cap
Any more, for your race is near run;
And your murderous heart, is destined, Bonaparte,
To suffer for crimes it has done.
Then ye Nations whose voice through fear, not from choice,
To this tyrant its homage has paid,
Join the brave Russian throng, that your miseries ere long
May with Nap in Oblivion be laid.