Although the troops assembled around him were comparatively a handful, Bonaparte had unquestionably obtained sufficient assurance of the general disposition of the army in his favour. Preparations indeed had been made for collecting a large body of troops at Melun for the immediate protection of Paris, while another was posted at Fontainebleau, so as to place the adventurer as it were between two fires. The greatest hopes were derived from the professed loyalty to the Bourbon cause of Marshal Ney, who had spontaneously presented himself at the Tuileries and proffered his services to the king. With the marshal, 12,000 or 15,000 men were posted at Lons-le-Saulnier, whence it was understood that he would fall on the rear of Bonaparte. Instead of doing so, he joined him at Auxerre with his whole division, which had already hoisted (under his orders) the tri-coloured flag. This defection practically decided the contest; and Bonaparte entered Paris on the evening of the 20th as a conqueror, received everywhere by the military in triumph.
Meanwhile, on the 13th of March, the powers who had signed the Treaty of Paris assembled in congress at Vienna, “being informed of the escape of Napoleon Bonaparte, and of his entrance into France with an armed force,” issued a formal declaration, in which they stated that, “by thus breaking the convention which established him on the island of Elba, Bonaparte had destroyed the only legal title on which his existence depended; ... deprived himself of the protection of the law; and manifested to the universe that there could be neither peace nor truce with him. The powers consequently declared that he had placed himself without the pale of civil and social relations, and as an enemy and disturber of the tranquility of the world, rendered himself liable to public vengeance;” and, by a treaty concluded at Vienna on the 25th of March, Great Britain, Austria, Russia, and Prussia bound themselves to maintain the Treaty of Paris of 30th May, 1814, and for that purpose each was to keep constantly in the field a force of 150,000 men, and not lay down their arms until Bonaparte should have been rendered absolutely unable to create disturbance, and “renew his attempts for possessing himself of the supreme power in France.”
The excitement which this portentous event occasioned amongst Reappearance of Bonaparte. the nations of Europe is admirably realized by a caricature of George Cruikshank’s, published by Fores on the 6th of April, and entitled, The Congress Dissolved before the Cake was Cut up. Alexander, engaged in cutting up the cake (i.e. Europe), and apportioning to each nationality a share of the whole, drops the knife as Napoleon rushes in among them, with the tremendous cocked hat, huge sword, and boots assigned to him on the authority of James Gillray. Crushing under his feet the “Decrees of the Congress,” “An Account of the Deliverance of Europe,” “A Plan for the Security of Europe,” and other documents of a similar character, he shouts to the affrighted company, “Avast! ye bunglers; the cake you have been these six months disputing about the cutting up, I will do in as many hours.” Holland in his fright has dropped off his stool to the ground. “O Donner and Blixen!” he exclaims, “my Hollands is all gone!” “I thought England had promised to guard him,” says Saxony, alluding to the kind of naval supervision of Elba by English armed cruisers, which appears to have been exercised, so far as we can see, without any direct claim on our part to control the movements of Bonaparte. “Hold him! seize him!” cries Austria. “Seize him! kill him!” re-echoes Prussia.[71] “Who’ll begin?—There’s the rub!” is the sensible observation of Sweden. “Oh dear! oh dear!” groans his holiness the Pope, crowned with a composite hat, the crown of which is composed of his mitre; “what will become of me?” The only one who says nothing, but seems prepared to act with determination and promptitude, is the representative of England, who is shown in the act of drawing his sword.
Napoleon (we need not say) did not exactly act as the caricaturist describes: he endeavoured to re-establish relations with the foreign powers. On the 14th of April, however, Coulaincourt, the minister of foreign affairs, published his report to the emperor, giving an account of the result of the applications which had been made to foreign courts. From this it appeared that while no communication was permitted with the actual government of France, all the allied powers were diligently making preparation for war. “In all parts of Europe at once,” said the minister, “they are arming, or marching, or ready to march.” The powers, of course, were acting strictly within the terms of their expressed declaration to make “neither peace nor truce with Bonaparte.” The emperor’s practical reply to this declaration was made in the Champ de Mars on the 1st of June. Descending from his throne, he distributed the imperial eagles to the troops of the line and the national guards as they marched past, and swore to defend them at the hazard of their lives, and to suffer no foreigners to dictate laws to their country. All this time reinforcements were being despatched from England without intermission, and the Duke of Wellington had arrived to take command of the troops, native and foreign, in Belgium. There was nothing left for Napoleon except to fight. In the latter end of May, the headquarters of the French army of the north was established at Avesnes, in French Flanders; while, in the apprehension of an invasion by the allied armies on that part, Laon and the Castle of Guise were put in a defensive condition. On the 12th of June Bonaparte left Paris, accompanied by Marshal Bertrand and General Drouet, and proceeded to Laon.
At this point we meet with a piece of George Cruikshank’s handiwork which is curious as indicative of the spirit which pervaded England at this momentous period. I am not at present in a position to refer to a newspaper of the period; but it would appear from the sketch referred to that, on or about the very day that Napoleon left Paris to join the splendid army which six days afterwards was so disastrously routed at Waterloo, a city fête was held at the Mansion House, at which that eccentric and sturdy nationalist, Sir William Curtis, whose face and figure were a fortune to the caricaturists of the period, covered the floor of the Mansion House Tri-coloured “Eagles.” with the tri-coloured eagles captured from the French in Peninsular battle-fields, while the banners of England domineered from the walls above. The exceedingly rare sketch which illustrates this incident is labelled appropriately by the artist, Opening of Sir William Curtis’s Campaign against the French Colours.
Six days afterwards, the star of Napoleon Bonaparte had set for ever in the lurid and ensanguined battle clouds of Waterloo. Scarcely one month later on—that is to say, on the 15th of July, 1815—he had surrendered to Captain Maitland, of his majesty’s ship Bellerophon, under circumstances which, while they reflect no discredit on the honour of that gallant officer, seem to us, so far as England was herself concerned, scarcely to have justified her subsequent treatment of the great but unfortunate emperor. With this, however, we have nothing to do. The Bellerophon on the evening of the 23rd, brought the distinguished exile within sight of the coast of England, a circumstance to which a subsequent caricature (etched by the artist) has reference. On the 6th of September was published by Fores, Boney’s Threatened Invasion brought to bear, or Taking a View of the English Coast from ye Poop of the Bellerophon. The little emperor, confined to the mast by a chain fastened to his leg, leaps on the breech of one of the Bellerophon’s guns, spy-glass in hand. “By gar, mon Empereur,” says Count Bertrand, “dey have erect von prospect for you.” The “prospect” is far from encouraging—a fort with the English flag flying from the central tower, and a gibbet erected in front of it. No wonder that the emperor expresses himself dissatisfied with a “prospect” of so lugubrious a character. An English sailor seated on a neighbouring gun, delivers the sentiments of the day after the plain-spoken fashion of his countrymen. This design, which is by no means in the artist’s usual style, was etched by him from the design of some one whose name or initials are not recorded.
The actual circumstance to which the foregoing sketch refers is related to us by the commander of the Bellerophon:—
“At daybreak on the 24th of July, we were close off Dartmouth. Count Bertrand went into the cabin and informed Bonaparte of it, who came upon deck about half-past four, and remained on the poop until the ship anchored in Torbay. He talked with admiration of the coast, saying, ‘You have in that respect a great advantage over France, which is surrounded by rocks and dangers.’ On opening Torbay, he was much struck with the beauty of the scenery, and exclaimed, ‘What a beautiful country! It very, very much resembles the bay of Porto Ferrago, in Elba.’”[72]
The same year, and on the same subject, the artist gives us Boney’s Meditations on the Island of St. Helena, or the Devil addressing the Sun, in which the idea is manifestly borrowed from a design by James Gillray; The Corsican’s Last Trip under the Guidance of his Good Angel [the devil]; The Genius of France Expounding her Laws to the Sublime People; and a very admirable and original design, The Pedigree of Corporal Violet; all of which are etched from the designs of other artists.
Hardly was Napoleon despatched to the island prison which was so shortly to prove his grave, and replaced by the unwieldly Louis, than the latter came in for his full share of satire. In another of George Cruikshank’s caricatures of the same year, he shows us The Royal Laundress [Louis the Eighteenth] Washing Boney’s Court Dresses, Napoleon watching the process the while from St. Helena. “Ha, ha!” he laughs, “such an old woman as you might rub a long while before they’ll be all white, for they are tri-coloured in grain.” Another shows us fat Louis climbing the mât de cocagne (soaped pole) and clutching the crown of France; he clambers up on the shoulders of Austria, Russia, and Prussia, his immediate supporter being England. Napoleon watches his progress from across the sea; “I climbed up,” he says, “twice, without any help.” Other subjects of the year are: Friends in Need, and John’s Dream, or the Prince and Old England for Ever!