January 2, 1804. [A French Ordinary.] (Originally published in 1801.) S. W. Fores, 50 Piccadilly.—The attractions of a cheap French table d'hôte are ludicrously set forth; while the ravenous diners are represented making the best use of their opportunities within the salle à manger, the delicate character of the attendance and the culinary department are slyly hinted. We are admitted to the secrets of la cuisine Française, as they have seemingly been revealed to the caricaturist. The slovenly old cook is emptying the morsels left from the plates of the customers, into the capacious pot-au-feu, to reappear dished up for succeeding convives. A lean cat is seated in the frying pan, probably in course of fattening for the spit; as to the larder, the main provisions consist of dead cats and frogs; it was an accepted axiom that all the Jean Crapauds, as our Gallic neighbours were playfully christened by John Bull, lived more or less on frogs. Rowlandson, as we have shown, had French relatives, and had studied in Paris and spoke the language with fluency; while those travellers who were familiar with native habits, from travelling abroad, stoutly maintained that such were the staples of the national food, being convinced of the truth of the formula, as asserted by the waggish Peter Pindar—'I've liv'd among them and have eat their frogs!'
A FRENCH ORDINARY.
June 8, 1804. Light Volunteers on a March. Published by R. Ackermann.
June 8, 1804. Light Infantry Volunteers on a March. Published by Ackermann.
July 31, 1804. The Imperial Coronation. Published by R. Ackermann.—The platform which has been erected for this celebration is more suggestive of an execution than a coronation; a body of the old Guards, in their bear-skin caps, surround the raised space. The Pope is present in full canonicals, to perform the ceremony in person. A gallows has been considerately provided, in order to lower the imperial crown on to the brows of the future wearer more conveniently. On the gallows is painted, 'Patrick Death, Gibbet-maker to his Imperial Majesty the Emperor of all the Gulls.' The Pope, who holds the string, which works over a pulley, and suspends the Crown, is crying somewhat irreverently: 'In a little while you shall see him, and in a little while you shall not see him.' The weight of the diadem is too much for the wearer and his new throne, the planks of the platform are broken through, and the future emperor is sinking beneath, while calling to his confederate Talleyrand, 'My dear Talleyrand, save me! my throne is giving way. I am afraid the foundation is rotten, and wants a cursed deal of mending!' His prime minister is much concerned, 'Ah, master, the crown is too heavy for you!'
Another pillar of the Church is pointing out that the Corsican has not acted with his usual cunning, 'You forgot your old Uncle, the new bishop—if you had made me Pope I should have let the crown down easier!' The ceremony is parodied in the background, monkeys taking the place of the actual performers, only in this case the imperial ape is seated in state, with sceptre and orb, in greater security.
1804. Theatrical Leap-frog. Published by Ackermann, Strand.—The young Roscius, as an infant prodigy, is flying over the back of Kemble, both the performers being dressed in the habit then customary for Hamlet—'Alas!' cries Kemble, 'is it come to this? Ah, woe is me! seeing what I have seen, seeing what I see! O Roscius!'