The Russians withdrew for a time, but only to return in force, and Napoleon had to change his tactics to meet them; he therefore proposed to concentrate his forces, and compel the Russians to give battle, with the Vistula in their rear, and he himself between them and Russia. His despatches, however, were intercepted, and the battle was precipitated. Augereau’s division lost its way, and was cut up by the Russians; and Bernadotte did not come, as the despatches, bidding him do so, had been captured. The fight in the snow at Preuss Eylau was fearful, and the carnage, especially in the churchyard, was horrible. Four thousand men died there. The French put down their loss in this battle as 2,000 killed, 6,000 wounded; while the loss of the Russians was 7,000 dead, 16,000 wounded, 12,000 prisoners, and 45 cannon taken.
That the blockade still galled us is evidenced by a caricature of Woodward’s (January 27, 1807), who designed ‘The Giant Commerce overwhelming the Pigmy Blockade.’ Commerce is a strange figure: its cap is Wedgwood ware, its face Staffordshire ware, its eyes Derby Porcelain, and its mouth Worcester porcelain. Its body is Wool, arms of printed calico, and its hands are encased in Woodstock gloves. It wears a Norwich shawl, has leather breeches, Fleecy hosiery stockings, and Staffordshire shoes. It is actively employed in hurling various missiles at Napoleon, who is sheltered behind his fortifications. These implements of offence consist of such articles as Birmingham steel, pig iron, scissors, combs, knives and forks, block tin, sugar, patent coffins, Birmingham buttons, and a cask each of London porter, Maidstone, Geneva, and British spirits. Napoleon entreats: ‘Pray Mr. Commerce don’t overwhelm me, and I will take off de grande Blockade of old England.’
The two following caricatures were designed and published before the news had arrived in England of the crushing defeat of the Russians at Eylau, which only appeared publicly in the ‘Times’ of March 10.
Ansell (March 1807) gives ‘Boney and his Army in Winter Quarters.’ In the background is a State Prison for Prisoners of War; and, in the centre of the picture, the Russian bear hugs poor Boney, and prepares to drop him in the river Bug, in which is a board inscribed, ‘Hic Jacet. Snug in the Bug several thousands of the great nation.’ Bruin growls: ‘Hush a bye! Hush a bye! take it all quietly, you’ll soon find yourself as snug as a bug in a rug.’ But Boney, writhing in the embrace, cries out: ‘Oh D—n the Bug, I wish I had never seen it. My dear Talley—don’t tell my faithful subjects the true state of my situation. Any thing but the truth, my dear Talley—Oh this Cursed Russian bear, how close he hugs me.’ Talleyrand, with one foot in the Vistula, and the other on land, replies: ‘Leave me alone for a Bulletin’—applies his lips to a trumpet, from which issues a true and a false report. The true one, ‘4000 prisoners, 3000 drowned, 12 Eagles taken, 12000 killed,’ is disappearing into thin air; whilst that ‘For Paris’ is as follows: ‘Grand Bulletin. The august Emperor of the great Nation informs his faithful, and beloved, subjects, that, having performed wonders on the banks of the Bug, he has now closed a glorious campaign for the season, and retired with ease, and comfort, into Winter quarters.’
‘The Political Cock horse’ (Souley, March 10, 1807) shows Napoleon’s somewhat ragged white charger stumbling over a stone, ‘Insatiable Ambition.’ Benningsen has jumped up behind him, seized the reins, and hurled Boney to the ground. In his fall he loses his sword ‘Oppression,’ and cries out pitifully, ‘Stop, stop, good Benningsen, don’t kill a poor fellow! An Armistice! an Armistice! I have very good proposals of peace for you.’ But the relentless Russian prepares to run him through with his sword, saying: ‘You Bombastic Scoundrel, Robber, Murderer, Violator, Incendiary, &c., &c., &c. You thought of reigning with your Iron Crown (in) the North, as well as the South. But know, Tyrant, that the Sons of the North are to be your Superior.’ John Bull encourages him with ‘Bravo, bravo, brave Russians: One home stroke more, and good bye to Master Boney.’
THE NEW DYNASTY, OR THE LITTLE CORSICAN GARDENER PLANTING A ROYAL PIPPIN TREE.
Of Gillray’s caricature of ‘The New Dynasty; or the little Corsican Gardener Planting a Royal Pippin Tree,’ only a portion is given—that relating to Napoleon. The Old Royal Oak is being hewn down by ‘All the Talents,’ and Talleyrand is busy digging a hole to receive Napoleon’s royal pippin, which is to take its place. The topmost pippin, which is crowned, represents Lord Moira, who claimed to be descended from the old kings of Ballynahinch. The others are, ‘Countess of Salisbury beheaded 1505,’ ‘Duchess of Cleves put to death in 1453,’ ‘Henry de la Pole beheaded in 1538,’ ‘Plantagenet beheaded in 1415,’ ‘Crookback Richard killed at Bosworth,’ ‘Edmund, 4th son of Henry 2, beheaded.’ The royal pippins behind, which have already been planted, and have taken root, are labelled respectively, ‘Etruria, Wurtemburg, Saxon, Holland, and Italian;’ whilst on the ground, by a basket, are grafts, which respectively represent Sir Francis Burdett, Cobbett, and Horne Tooke.
Napoleon pursued his victories over the Russians. Dantzig was taken; at Friedland the Russians lost 18,000 men and 25 generals, killed and wounded, and at last Königsberg was taken by Soult, after having been evacuated by the Russians. It was time for them to beg for an armistice, and on June 21 one was concluded. Napoleon was asked to have an interview with the Emperor of Russia, to which he consented, and Tilsit was the place appointed; and, in order that this meeting should be quite private, and free from interruption, Napoleon ordered a large raft to be moored in the middle of the Niemen, on which was erected a room with two antechambers, all elegantly furnished and decorated. Both the roof and the doors were ornamented with French and Russian eagles. On June 25 they met; Napoleon reached the raft first, and stood on its edge to welcome Alexander. They met and parted in a most friendly manner. This incident, it is needless to say, afforded a fine subject to the caricaturist.
Ansell gives us, certainly, a more comic representation of the meeting of the Emperors than any other caricaturist (July 1807). Bonaparte is hugging the Emperor of Russia in a most exaggerated style, saying: ‘My dear Brother—receive this Fraternal Embrace out of pure affection.’ But Russia, finding the raft tilting violently, and not liking such demonstrative affection, exclaims, ‘Zounds, Brother, you’ll squeeze me to death—besides, I find my side of the raft is sinking very fast.’ Poor Prussia is floundering in the water, his crown floating away from him: ‘What a Prussian cake I was to listen to him—I am afraid I shall never recover it.’