NAPOLEON DESPOILS ITALY OF HER WORKS OF ART--THE SIEGE
OF MANTUA--WÜRMSER’S SURRENDER--EARLIEST ENGLISH
CARICATURE OF NAPOLEON--INVASION OF ENGLAND--LANDING IN
PEMBROKESHIRE--NELSON’S RECEIPT TO MAKE AN OLLA PODRIDA--‘THE
ARMY OF ENGLAND.’
Such a subject as the spoliation of Italian works of art was not likely
to go a-begging among caricaturists, so George Cruikshank illustrated
the poet Combe.
[Illustration: SEIZING THE ITALIAN WORKS OF ART.]
As Nap (for his extortions fam’d),
Of livres twenty millions claim’d;
Which sum, we also understand,
Pope Pius paid upon demand;
And sixteen million more, they say,
Was bound in two months’ time to pay
With these exactions not content,
To further lengths our hero went;
A hundred paintings, and the best,
Were, we are told, his next request.
At his desire, the precious heaps came,
(It was indeed a very deep scheme),
Loretta’s statues so pleased Boney,
They instantly packed up _Madona_:
These relics then, without delay,
To Paris Boney sent away;
And there they formed an exhibition
As proof of Papal superstition.
At the siege of Mantua, Würmser sent his aide-de-camp Klenau to
Napoleon to treat for terms of peace. G. Cruikshank depicts the scene.
Klenau is brought in blindfolded, and Bonaparte, surrounded by his
guard, strikes a melodramatic attitude, worthy of a pirate captain at a
transpontine theatre.
[Illustration: NAPOLEON AND HIS GUARD.]
The real facts are thus described by Horn. ‘Mantua was now without
hope of relief. The hospitals were crowded, the provisions exhausted;
but Würmser still held out. Napoleon informed him of the rout and
dispersion of the Austrian army, and summoned him to surrender. The old
soldier proudly replied that “he had provisions for a year;” but a few
days afterwards he sent his aide-de-camp, Klenau, to the head-quarters
of Serrurier to treat for a surrender.
‘At the conference, a French officer sat apart from the two others,
wrapped in his cloak, but within hearing of what passed. After the
discussion was finished, this officer came forward and wrote marginal
answers to the conditions proposed by Würmser; granting terms far
more favourable than those which might have been exacted in the
extremity to which the veteran was reduced. “These,” said the unknown
officer, giving back the paper, “are the terms that I grant, if he
opens his gates to-morrow; and if he delays a fortnight, a month, or
two months, he shall have the same terms. He may hold out to his last
morsel of bread; to-morrow I pass the Po and march upon Rome.” Klenau,
recognising Napoleon, and struck with the generosity of the conditions
he had granted, owned that only three days’ provisions remained in
Mantua.’
The earliest English caricature of Napoleon that I have met with, was
published on April 14, 1797, all those hitherto given, being of later
date. It is not worth reproducing, as the artist had evidently no
knowledge of what manner of man Napoleon was. It is called the ‘French
Bugabo[34] frightening the Royal Commanders.’ Bonaparte (a perfectly
fanciful, and horrible sketch) is seated on the back of some impossible
Saurian--meant, probably, for the devil--who is vomiting armies and
cannon. He calls out, ‘Egad, they run well. Courez donc Messieurs les
Princes!!!’ Of the two royal commanders running away, Frederick Duke
of York is calling out to his companion, ‘I wish I was at York. Come
on, Charles, follow me.’ Fox, who acts the part of ‘the sweet little
cherub that sits up aloft,’ says, ‘Run, Frederick, run Charles, Mack,
Wurmsell, Kell; well done D’Alvinzi, now Davidovich.’ The poor Pope is
being trodden under the beast, and cries out, ‘Oh Lord! this rebel son
of mine pays me no homage whatever.’
Of all the attempts of the French to invade England, perhaps the most
ludicrous was that which took place in February 1797. On the 22nd
of that month, a French corvette, and a lugger, made for the coast
of Pembrokeshire, and there landed some 1,200 men. Two days after,
they surrendered to Lord Cawdor, and were sent to Haverfordwest: but,
before the arrival of the military, the peasants attacked them with
rough weapons, such as pikes and scythes. The ships, which brought
this invading army over, were captured on their return to Brest. The
following is an official letter to the Lord Mayor, respecting the
event:--
My Lord,--I have the honour to acquaint your lordship that
intelligence has been received that two French Frigates, a
Corvette, and a lugger, appeared off the East of Pembrokeshire,
on the 22nd instant, and, on the evening of that day,
disembarked some troops (reported by deserters to be about
1,200 men, but without any field pieces). Every exertion had
been made by the Lord Lieutenant, and gentlemen of that county,
and its neighbourhood, for taking the proper steps on this
occasion; and the greatest zeal and loyalty has been shewn by
all ranks of people. Immediately, on an account having been
received at Plymouth, of this force having appeared in the
Bristol Channel, frigates were despatched from Plymouth in
quest of them.
I have the honour to be, &c.
PORTLAND.
In the ‘Times’ of March 13, 1797, is the following:--
_Commodore_ NELSON’S _Receipt to make an Olla-Podrida._
Take a Spanish first-rate, and an 80 gun ship and after well
_battering_ and _basting_ them for an hour, keep throwing in
your _force balls_, and be sure to let them be _well seasoned_.
Your _fire_ must never _slacken_ for a single moment, but
must be kept up as _brisk_ as possible during the whole time.
So soon as you perceive your Spaniards to be well _stewed_ and
_blended_ together you must then throw your own ship on board
of the two-decker. Lash your sprit-sail-yard to her mizen-mast:
then jump into her quarter gallery, sword in hand, and let the
rest of your boarders follow as they can. The moment you appear
on the 80 gun ship’s quarter deck, the Spaniards will all throw
down their arms and fly: you will then have only to take a hop,
step and a jump, from your _stepping stone_, and you will find
yourself in the middle of the first-rate’s quarter-deck with
all the Spaniards at your feet. Your Olla Podrida may now be
considered as completely _dished_ and fit to be set before his
MAJESTY.--_Nelson’s New Art of Cookery._
Negotiations for peace with France had been going on during the year,
and Lord Malmesbury went over to Lisle to conduct them on the part of
the English, but they came to nothing. The French, however, in order to
keep us in anxiety, massed large quantities of troops on their coast,
which the Directory ordered should be called the ‘Army of England,’
and they gave Bonaparte the command of it. It was destined to come to
nothing. Napoleon had made peace with the Austrians, and was then given
the above command.
Among themselves[35] they had indeed,
On Nap’s departure all agreed;
For, one of his prodigious sway,
’Twas policy to send away.
So Barras, who had such a wise head,
Albion’s immediate fall advised.
And to send Boney, he thought best,
To head the army in the West,
Which had a pompous appellation,
As ’twas to rouse the English nation;
The ‘Army of England’ it was named,
Though never for an action famed;
They had, indeed, for the occasion,
(We mean of the resolv’d invasion),
Rafts and Balloons, and ships for diving,
And other matters were contriving.
The business settled, Barras wrote
To his _dear_ Bonaparte a note.
‘Your loving friend now reinstates you,
Another victory awaits you--
To Albion’s shores conduct your army,
There’s nothing there that can alarm ye;
I will each necessary thing lend,
That you may sack the Bank of England;
On London’s Tower let them see
The Standard of French Liberty.’
Some of the Ministers it seems
Thought this the maddest of all schemes;
Tho’ Barras with fine words embellish’d it--
Not even Mr. Boney relish’d it;
And very soon, it must be own’d
The project wisely was postpon’d.
Thus stood things at the end of 1797, a year which left the public
pulse--the Three per Cent. Consols--at 49 (they had, in September,
dropped to 47-7/8), and the quartern loaf about eightpence all the year
through.