I. Cruikshank drew ‘Harlequin’s last Skip’ (August 23, 1804). Bonaparte is represented in a harlequin’s suit, enormous cocked hat, boots, and a blackened face. His sword is broken, and, with upraised hands, in a supplicating attitude, he exclaims, ‘O Sacre Dieu! John Bull is de very Devil.’ John Bull, with upraised cudgel, says: ‘Mr. Boney Party, you have changed Characters pretty often and famously well, and skipped about at a precious rate. But this Invasion hop is your last—we have got you snug—the devil a trap to get through here—Your conjuration sword has lost its Power; you have lied till you are black in the face, and there is no believing a word you say—so now you shall carry John Bull’s mark about with you, as every swaggerer should.’
‘British men of war towing in the Invader’s Fleet,’ artist unknown (September 25, 1804), shows a number of English sailors seated on the necks of French and Dutch men, whom they are guiding over the sea to England. One sailor, evidently a Scotchman, is pulling his opponent’s ears; the poor Frenchman cries out, ‘Oh Morbleu! de salt water make me sick; O mine pauvre Ears!’ but his ruthless conqueror has no pity, ‘Deil tak your soul, ye lubberly Loon, gin ye dinna mak aw sail, I’ll twist off your lugs.’ An English sailor rides the redoubtable Boney, and pulls his nose: ‘Steady Master Emperor, if you regard your Imperial Nose. Remember a British Tar has you in tow—No more of this wonderful, this great and mighty nation who frighten all the world with their buggabo invasion.’ But Boney pleads, ‘Oh! mercy, take me back, me will make you all Emperors; it will be Boney here, Boney there, and Boney everywhere, and me wish to my heart me was dead.’ An Irish sailor on a Dutchman yells out, ‘By Jasus, my Jewel, these bum boats are quizzical toys and sure—heave ahead, you bog trotting spalpeen, or I shall be after keel hauling you. Huzza, Huzza, Huzza, my boys, Huzza! ’Tis Britannia boys, Britannia rules the waves.’ Another Dutchman complains, ‘O Mynheer Jan English you vill break my back.’ But the relentless sailor who bestrides him takes out his tobacco-box, and says, ‘Now for a quid of comfort! pretty gig for Jack Tars. Good bye to your bombast, we’re going to Dover, Was ever poor Boney, so fairly done over.’
A most remarkable caricature by Ansell (October 25, 1804) shows to what length party spirit will lead men—making truth entirely subservient to party purposes. It probably paid to vilify Napoleon, and consequently this picture was produced. It is called ‘Boney’s Inquisition. Another Specimen of his Humanity on the person of Madame Toussaint.’ Whatever may be our opinion of his treatment of Toussaint l’Ouverture, the only record we have in history (and I have expended much time and trouble in trying to find out the truth of the matter) is that his family, who were brought to France at the same time as himself, took up their residence at Agen, where his wife died in 1816. His eldest son, Isaac, died at Bordeaux in 1850. Now to describe the picture. Madame l’Ouverture is depicted as being bound to a stretcher nearly naked, whilst three Frenchmen are tearing her breasts with red-hot pincers. Another is pulling out her finger-nails with a similar instrument. She exclaims: ‘Oh Justice! Oh Humanity, Oh Deceitfull Villain, in vain you try to blot the Character of the English: ’tis their magnanimity which harrasses your dastard soul.’ One of the torturers says: ‘Eh! Diable! Why you no confess noting?’ Napoleon is seated on his throne, watching the scene with evident delight, chuckling to himself, ‘This is Luxury. Jaffa, Acre, Toulon and D’Enghien was nothing to it. Slave, those pincers are not half hot, save those nails for my Cabinet, and if she dies, we can make a confession for her.’
‘The Genius of France nursing her darling’ is by a new hand, T. B. d——lle (November 26, 1804). ‘France, whilst dandling her darling, and amusing him with a rattle, sings—
There’s a little King Pippin
He shall have a Rattle and Crown;
Bless thy five Wits,[2] my Baby,
Mind it don’t throw itself down!
Hey my Kitten, my Kitten, &c.
An unknown artist (December 11, 1804) gives us ‘The death of Madame Republique.’ Madame lies a corpse on her bed. Sieyès, as nurse, dandles the new emperor. John Bull, spectacles on nose, inquires, ‘Pray Mr. Abbé Sayes—what was the cause of the poor lady’s Death? She seem’d at one time in a tolerable thriving way.’ Sieyès replies, ‘She died in Child bed, Mr. Bull, after giving birth to this little Emperor.’
‘The Loyalist’s Alphabet, an Original Effusion,’ by James Bisset (September 3, 1804), consists of twenty-four small engravings, each in a lozenge.
‘A, stands for Albion’s Isle,’—Britannia seated.
‘B, for brave Britons renown’d.’—A soldier and sailor shaking hands.
‘C, for a Corsican tyrant,’—Napoleon, with a skull, the guillotine, &c., in the background.
‘D, his dread downfall must sound.’—Being hurled from his throne by lightning.
‘E, for embattl’d we stand,’—A troop of soldiers.
‘F, ’gainst the French our proud Foes,’—shews England guarded by her ships,’ and the flotilla coming over.
‘G, for our glorious Gunners,’—Three artillerymen, and a cannon.
‘H, for Heroical blows,’—shews a ship being blown up.
‘I, for Invasion once stood,’—Some soldiers carousing. The English flag above the tricolour.
‘J, proves ’twas all a mere Joke.’—A soldier laughing heartily, and holding his sides.
‘K, for a favorite King, to deal against Knaves a great stroke.—Medallion of George the Third.
‘L, stands for Liberties’ laws,’—A cap of liberty, mitre, pastoral staff, crown, and open book.
‘M, Magna Charta’s strong chain.’—A soldier, sailor, Highlander, and civilian, joining hands.
‘N, Noble Nelson, whom Neptune, near Nile crown’d the Lord of the Main,’—is a portrait of the Hero.
‘O, stands for Britain’s fam’d Oak,’—which is duly portrayed.
‘P, for each brave British Prince.’—The three feathers show the Prince of Wales, in volunteer uniform.
‘Q, never once made a Question, Respecting the Deeds they’d evince,’—is an officer drawing his sword.
‘If R, for our Rights takes the field,’—is a yeomanry volunteer.
‘Or S, should a signal display,’—The British Standard.
‘They’d each call with T for the Trumpet. To Horse my brave boys and away.’—A mounted Trumpeter.
‘U, for United, we stand, V for our bold Volunteers,’—represents one of the latter.
‘Whom W welcomes in War, and joins loyal X in three Cheers.’—A soldier and sailor, with hands clasped, cheering.
‘With Y all our Youths sally forth, the standards of Freedom advance,’—is a cannon between two standards.
‘With Z proving Englishmen’s Zeal, to humble the Zany of France,’—shews Napoleon with a fool’s cap on, chained to the wall in a cell.