CHAPTER XXVIII.
ATTEMPT AT MEDIATION BY RUSSIA—MARTIAL ENTHUSIASM IN ENGLAND—ENROLMENT OF VOLUNTEERS—PATRIOTIC HANDBILLS AND SONGS.
Ineffectual attempts at mediation seem to have been made, but, situated as the two opposing Powers were, this could not be.
‘Bruin become mediator’ (artist unknown, June 1803) represents the Emperor of Russia as a bear, joining the hands of a Bull and a Monkey. The peacemaker thus addresses them, ‘I wonder you civilized folks could not agree upon matters without reference to me, whom you have ridiculed as a Barbarian—but I suppose you think I must have more sense than yourselves, because I come further North.’ The Monkey is giving his hand with ‘I promise on the faith of a Frenchman (which is as any Birmingham Sixpence) to let you graze quietly in the Malta Paddock—and to love you with all my heart, as much as I do the Liberty of the French Nation.’ The Bull says, ‘Well Nappy, if you will leave off your Pranks and not think of skipping over to Egypt, and if you will promise not to hop the twig to Hanover, I will be reconciled.’
And again, a month later, is another caricature, called ‘Olympic Games, or John Bull introducing his new Ambassador to the Grand Consul,’ by I. Cruikshank (July 16, 1803), shewing us the little Corsican giving an ambassador a blow in the face with his clenched fist, saying, ‘There Sir, take that, and tell your master, I’ll thrash every one who dares to speak to me: I’ll thrash all the World. D— me I’ll, I’ll, I’ll, be King of the Universe.’ The astonished Ambassador exclaims, ‘Why this is Club Law! this is the Argument of force indeed. The little Gentleman is Derangé.’ John Bull, however, is introducing a prize-fighter as his representative, telling Napoleon, ‘There, my Boy, is an Ambassador who will treat with you in your own way—but I say, be as gentle with him as you can.’ The pugilist looks on his adversary with contempt, ‘What! is it that little whipper snapper I am to set to with? Why I think the first round will settle his hash.’ The Austrian ambassador meanwhile remarks, ‘The Monarch I represent, will return this insult with becoming Dignity.’
Martial enthusiasm was at its height, corps of volunteers were enrolled everywhere. The militia, 80,000 strong, had been called out on March 25; there was the regular army of 130,000, and, on June 28, the House of Commons agreed to the raising of 50,000 more, by means of conscription—of which England was to furnish 34,000, Ireland 10,000, and Scotland 6,000; whilst, on June 30, the Court of Common Council for the City of London resolved to raise, and equip, 800 men for the national service. This, be it remembered, only represented that portion of London within the city walls. Factions were for a time done away with, and men, of all shades of politics, stood shoulder by shoulder, as now, in the ranks of the different volunteer corps. Stirring broadsides were not needed, although they appeared, and the following may be taken as a good sample:—
ENGLISH MASTIFFS.
We by this Address, publicly and solemnly, before God and our Country, pledge our Fortunes, Persons, and Lives, in the Defence of our Sovereign, and all the Blessings of our glorious Constitution.
There is not a Man that hears me, I am persuaded, who is not prompt and eager to redeem that pledge. There is not, there cannot be a Man here, who would leave undefended, our good, tried, and brave Old King in the Hour of Danger.
No, Sir! we need now no Warning-voice; no string of Eloquence; no Thoughts that heat, and Words that burn, are necessary to raise a Host of hardy Men, when the King, the Parliament, and the Country are in Distress.[75] Call out to Yorkshiremen, ‘Come forth to battle!’ our Answer will be—One and All—‘We are ready!—There is the Enemy!—Lead on!’ Sir, that Enemy is not far off; a very numerous, well appointed, ably commanded Army, to whom is promised the Plunder of England, are now hovering round, and Part of them in daily Sight of the Promised Land. They view it, like so many famished Wolves, Cruel as Death, and Hungry as the Grave, panting for an Opportunity, at any Risk, to come into our Sheep Fold;—but, and if they should, is it not our Business, our first Duty, to have such a Guard of old, faithful English Mastiffs, of the old Breed, as shall make them quickly repent their temerity.
The Chief Consul of France tells us, that we are but a Nation of Shopkeepers: let us, Shopkeepers, then melt our Weights, and our Scales, and return him the Compliment in Bullets. Sir; we may have a firm Reliance on the Exertions of as gallant a Fleet as ever sailed; but the Fleet cannot perform Impossibilities; it cannot be in two places at once; it cannot conquer the Winds, and subdue the Storms. Though our old Tars can do much, they cannot do everything; and it would be unsafe and dastardly to lie skulking behind them. With the Blessing of God, and a good Cause, we can do Wonders; but if we depend upon our Naval Prowess only, we have much to fear. NO, Sir: England will never be perfectly safe, until she can defend herself as well by Land, as by Sea; until she can defy the haughty Foe: if there was even a Bridge between Calais and Dover, and that Bridge in Possession of the Enemy, still can she say, in the Language of a good English Boxing Match, ‘A fair Field and no Favour.’
‘Our good, tried, and brave Old King, in the Hour of Danger,’ had made all snug, at least as far as human foresight could act. When the dreaded invasion came, he was to go either to Chelmsford or Dartford; whilst the Queen, with the Royal Family and the treasure, were to go to Worcester, the city whose motto is ‘Civitas in bello, et in pace, fidelis.’ All the stores at Woolwich, including the artillery, were to be sent into the Midlands by means of the Grand Junction Canal; in fact, every precaution was taken that forethought could devise: and there is but little doubt that, had Napoleon made good a landing, he would have had a warmer reception than he expected. Yet what disadvantages they laboured under compared to our days! no Telegraphs, no Railways, no Steam. Of course it may be said that the enemy was in no better position; but still a lucky wind might favour their crossing, and hinder our preventing it.