Of ‘Pacific Overtures, or a Flight from St. Cloud, “over the Water to Charley,” a new Dramatic Peace now rehearsing’ (Gillray, April 5, 1806), only a portion is given in the accompanying illustration, but quite sufficient to explain the negotiations for peace then in progress.
This caricature is far too elaborate to reproduce the whole, and the allusions therein are extremely intricate and, nowadays, uninteresting. A theatrical stage is represented, with Napoleon descending in clouds, pointing to Terms of Peace, which are being displayed by Talleyrand, and saying, ‘There’s my terms.’ These are as follow: ‘Acknowledge me as Emperor; dismantle your fleet; reduce your army; abandon Malta and Gibraltar; renounce all Continental connexion; your Colonies I will take at a valuation; engage to pay to the Great Nation, for seven years annually, £1,000,000; and place in my hands as hostages, the Princess Charlotte of Wales, with ten of the late administration, whom I shall name.’
King George has stepped from his box on to the stage, and is surveying this vision through his glass, exclaiming: ‘Very amusing terms indeed, and might do vastly well with some of the new made little gingerbread kings[13]; but we are not in the habit of giving up either “ships, or commerce, or colonies” merely because little Boney is in a pet to have them!!!’
Ansell (April 1806) drew ‘Roast Beef and French Soup. The English Lamb * * * and the French Tiger,’ and it seems merely designed for the purpose of introducing Daniel Lambert, who was then on exhibition—‘Daniel Lambert who at the age of 36 weighed above 50 Stone, 14 Pounds to the Stone, measured 3 yards 4 inches round the Body, and 1 yard 1 inch round the leg. 5 feet 11 inches high.’ It shows the redoubtable fat man seated on a couch, carving a round of beef, which is accompanied by a large mustard-pot, a huge loaf, and a foaming pot of stout. Napoleon, seated on a similar couch, on the opposite side of the table, is taking soup—then an unaccustomed article of food with Englishmen—and looks with horror at the other’s size and manner of feeding.
Daniel Lambert was like Mr. Dick in ‘David Copperfield,’ who would persist in putting King Charles the First’s head into his Memorial; he could hardly be kept out of the caricatures. Ansell produced one (May 1806)—‘Two Wonders of the World, or a Specimen of a new troop of Leicestershire Light Horse.—Mr. Daniel Lambert, who at the age of 36 weighed above 50 Stone, 14 Pounds to the Stone, measured 3 yards 4 inches round the body and 1 yard 1 inch round the leg, 5 feet 11 inches high. The famous horse Monarch, the largest in the World is upwards of 21 hands high, (above 7 foot)[14] and only 6 Years old.’ Lambert is mounted on this extraordinary quadruped, and, sword in hand, is riding at poor little Boney, who exclaims in horror, ‘Parbleu! if dis be de specimen of de English light Horse, vat vill de Heavy Horse be? Oh, by Gar, I vill put off de Invasion for anoder time.’
Yet once more are these two brought into juxtaposition, in an engraving by Knight (April 15, 1806), ‘Bone and Flesh, or John Bull in moderate Condition.’ Napoleon is looking at this prodigy, and saying, ‘I contemplate this Wonder of the World, and regret that all my Conquered Domains cannot match this Man. Pray, Sir, are you not a descendant from the great Joss of China?’ Lambert replies, ‘No Sir, I am a true born Englishman, from the County of Leicester. A quiet mind, and good Constitution, nourished by the free Air of Great Britain, makes every Englishman thrive.’
Another of Gillray’s caricatures into which Napoleon is introduced, but in which he plays a secondary part, is called ‘Comforts of a Bed of Roses; vide Charley’s elucidation of Lord C—stl—r—gh’s speech! Nightly Scene near Cleveland row.’ This is founded on a speech of Lord Castlereagh’s, in which he congratulated the Ministry as having ‘a bed of roses.’ But Fox, in reply, recounted his difficulties and miseries, and said: ‘Really, it is insulting to tell me I am on a bed of roses, when I feel myself torn, and stung, by brambles, and nettles, whichever way I turn.’
Fox and Mrs. Fox are shown as sleeping on a bed of roses, some of which peep out from underneath the rose-coloured counterpane, but which display far more of thorns than of roses. There is the India rose, the Emancipation rose, the French rose, the Coalition rose, and the Volunteer rose. Fox’s slumbers are terribly disturbed; his bonnet rouge, which he wears as night-cap, has tumbled off; his night-shirt is seized at the neck, on one side by the ghost of Pitt, who exclaims: ‘Awake, arise, or be for ever fall’n!’ The other side is fiercely clutched by Napoleon, who, drawn sword in hand, has just stepped on to the bed from a cannon labelled ‘Pour subjuguer le monde.’ Amidst a background of smoke appear spears, and a banner entitled ‘Horrors of Invasion.’ The Prussian eagle is preparing to swoop down upon him, and, from under the bed, crawls out a skeleton holding an hour-glass, whilst round its fleshless arm is entwined a serpent ‘Intemperance, Dropsy, Dissolution.’ John Bull, as a bull-dog, is trying to seize Napoleon.
‘John Bull threatened by Insects from all Quarters’ is by an unknown artist (April 1806). John Bull is on ‘The tight little Island,’ and seated on a cask of grog. With one hand he flourishes a cutlass, and the other grasps a pistol, of which weapon two more lie on the ground. With these he defies the insects, which come in swarms. There are Westphalian mites, American hornets, Dutch bluebottles, Italian butterflies, Turkish wasps, Danish gnats, and, worst of all, a French dragon-fly, in the shape of Napoleon. John Bull is saying: ‘Come on my Lads—give me but good sea room, and I don’t care for any of you—Why all your attacks is no more than a gnat stinging an Elephant, or a flea devouring Mr. Lambert of Leicester.’