English Caricature and Satire on Napoleon I. Volume I (of 2). Ashton John
But General Massena instantly retorted with a happy sarcasm: Be easy, General, remember that I often make you win. Buonaparte could never forget nor forgive that bon mot.’ This story also figures in poetry: —
In numbers being three to one,
A Battle at Monte Notte he won;
The Austrian General he defeated,
And therefore with huzzas was greeted.
But, tho’ of this affair Conductor,
Massena had been his instructor.
Yet, when (would you believe it, Bards?)
Nap’s partner at a game of Cards,
He scrupled not his friend t’ abuse —
‘Zounds! general, how you make me lose!’
The general, patient all the while,
Thus answer’d with a gracious smile,
‘For such a loss don’t care a pin,
Remember, Nap, I’ve made you win.’
Tho’ nothing but the truth he spoke,
Nap never could forgive the joke.
It is impossible to pass over in silence an event which happened in 1796, in which, although Napoleon was not personally interested, all England was. This was no less than an attempted invasion of Ireland by the French; relying on being supported by the Irish, who were disaffected then, as now. The expedition failed, although it was numerous and well-found, having General Hoche and 25,000 men with it. By defective seamanship, many of the ships were damaged, and a 74 gun ship, the Seduisant, was totally lost. Only one division, commanded by Admiral Bouvet, reached Ireland, but anchored in Bantry Bay, where they did nothing, but speedily weighed anchor, and returned to France. The following is an official letter on the subject: —
My Lord33– The last accounts from General Dalrymple are by his aide-de-camp, Captain Gordon, who left Bantry at ten o’clock A.M. on Tuesday, and arrived here this morning. Seventeen sail of French ships were at that time at anchor on the lower part of Bear island, but at such a distance that their force could not be ascertained. A lieutenant of a French frigate was driven on shore in his boat, in attempting to quit his vessel, which was dismasted, to the admiral. He confirms the account of the fleet being French, with hostile views to this country, but does not appear to know whether the whole fleet, which consisted of about 17 sail of the line, 15 frigates, and including transports and luggers, amounted to fifty sail, were all to re-assemble off Bantry. General Hoche was on board, commanding a considerable force. I have the honour to be, my lord,
Just let us glance for one moment at the social position of England at that time. For the first three months of the year the quartern loaf was 1s. 3d.; in April it fell to 10d.: in June it rose to 11d.; in September it fell to 8¼d.; at which it remained all the year. There was a surplus of revenue over expenditure of over twenty-three millions, which must have gratified the Chancellor of the Exchequer; the exports exceeded those in 1795 by 1,781,297l., and the London Brewers brewed 142,700 more barrels of porter than the previous year; 3 per cent. Consols varied from 71 in January (the highest price) to 56-3/8 in December (nearly their lowest).
CHAPTER VIII
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.
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.
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 Bugabo34 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
The Lord Mayor of London, Thomas Blackhall.
A bogey, a bugbear.