‘The Valley of the Shadow of Death’ is, as far as I know, the last caricature of Gillray (September 24, 1808) in connection with Napoleon—if, indeed, it can be called a caricature, for it is far too serious in its conception. Napoleon’s situation at the moment is here firmly grasped. He is surrounded by enemies. With notched sword in hand, he leads the Russian bear. He is pursued by the German eagle and the spirit of Charles XII. Above is the ‘Turkish New Moon Rising in blood,’ the obscured portion of which is represented by ‘French Influence,’ the bright crescent as ‘English Influence,’ and the whole is dropping blood. A fiery comet, with a tiara as a nucleus (the Pope), is darting thunderbolts of excommunication upon him; whilst Junot and Dupont, shackled together at their necks, amidst clouds, seem to warn him of his fate. Immediately in front of him is a Portuguese wolf, which has broken its chain, a Sicilian terrier, and the Leo Britannicus. Death also appears, lance in one hand, hour-glass in the other, on a mule of ‘True Royal Spanish breed.’ In the Ditch of Styx is disappearing ‘Rex Joseph,’ whose hands and crown alone appear above water. Creeping upwards from the slime of the Lethean Ditch, is ‘The Rhenish Confederation of starved Rats, crawling out of the Mud,’ also ‘Dutch Frogs spitting out their spite’; whilst the ‘American Rattle Snake is shaking his tail,’ and the ‘Prussian scarecrow is attempting to fly.’
Certainly ‘Nap and his Partner Joe’ is not one of Rowlandson’s happiest efforts (September 29, 1808). Some Dons are kicking the brothers into the gaping jaws of a devil, singing meanwhile, ‘So seeing we were finely nick’d. Plump to the Devil we boldly kick’d. Both Nap and his Partner Joe.’
‘Nap and His fiends in their glory’ (October 1, 1808) shews him, his brother Joseph, Death, and the Devil, carousing. Napoleon is rising and giving a toast. ‘Come, gentlemen, here is success to Plunder and Massacre.’ There is below a song to the tune of ‘Drops of Brandy.’
NAP.
DEATH.
THE DEVIL.
DON JOEY.
‘Apollyon, the Devil’s Generalissimo, addressing his legions,’ a portion of which is here reproduced, is by I. Cruikshank (October 7, 1808). His speech is as follows: ‘Legions of Death. After having ravished, murdered, and plundered, on the banks of the Danube, and the Vistula, I shall order you to march through France, without allowing you a moment’s rest!! I have occasion for you—the hideous presence of Religion, and Loyalty, contaminates the Continent of Spain, and Portugal. Let your aspect drive them away from thence; let us carry our conquering Eagles to the gates of Heaven: there also we have an injury to avenge—you have exceeded all modern murderers—you have placed yourselves on a level with the most ferocious cannibals—Eternal War, Robbery, and Plunder shall be the reward of your Exertions, for I never can enjoy rest till the Sea is covered with your Blood!!’ And the army rejoice, shouting: ‘Ha, Ha, more Blood!’
A rather clever broadside, artist unknown (October 1808), shows us ‘General Nap turned Methodist Preacher.’ Napoleon, in a black gown, occupies the pulpit, having in his hand a musket with fixed bayonet, on which is a windmill, and, in his wig, he has fixed a cross, tricoloured flag, surmounted by a cap of liberty, and a crescent. In the vestry hang a military uniform, an episcopal mitre, and chasuble, or cope—a Turkish costume, a bottle of arsenic for the poor sick of Jaffa, a musket labelled ‘Scarecrow,’ and a bloody dagger, which does duty as the ‘Imperial Cross.’ A general acts as clerk, the organ pipes are cannon, and the audience, when not military, is seated on drums. The letterpress is as follows: ‘General Nap turned Methodist Preacher, a new attempt to gull the credulous; dedicated to Mr. Whitbread. “Dear Sam, repeat my Words, but not my Actions.” “Dearly beloved brethren, Honour, Country, liberty! this is the order of the day; far from us all idea of conquest, bloodshed, and war. Religion and true Philosophy must ever be our maxim. Liberty, a free Constitution, and no Taxes, that is our cry. No Slave trade; humanity shudders at the very thought of it!! The brave, the excellent, English detest it. Yea, we shall all be happy. Commerce, Plenty, and all sorts of pretty things will be our lot. Good Jacobins, rise and assert your rights. And you, brave soldiers, the honour of France, Plunder and Blood shall once more be your cry. Double pay and cities burnt will come down in showers upon you. Yea! ye shall all be Generals, all be members of the Legion of Honour! The Eagles will once more cover the world. Now is the time to destroy Great Britain, that treacherous country which always seeks our ruin. Honour and Victory will lead us.
‘“Dear Countrymen, without good faith there is no tie in this world. Dear Jacobins, we all acknowledge no God, and nothing else. Let the Altars be lighted up, and your organs play the Marseillois, that sacred air, which fires every Frenchman’s breast. Yea, I swear by this holy Cross I now hold in my hands, and in this sacred place, that you are all free, and without restraint, that my intentions are pure, and that I wish for nothing else but Peace, Plunder, and Liberty! Amen!!”’
‘Political Quacks, or the Erfurt Co-partnership commencing Business’ (artist unknown, November 1808) shows Napoleon, as a quack doctor, on a stage with a muzzled bear (Russia), who is distributing handbills, and says: ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to say, as well as my muzzle will permit me, that I have a large share in the concern.’ Seated behind Napoleon are his different patients, whilst Death, grinning through a curtain, calls out: ‘Walk up, walk up, kill or cure.’ Napoleon himself, as the quack doctor, has in his hand one of his famous cannon-ball pills, one of which ‘is a dose,’ and a trayful of them is on the floor of the stage. They are named Naples, Egypt, Lodi, Alps, Switzerland, &c.; and he declaims: ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, depend upon it here is no deception. Observe the patients ranged behind me. On my right, a Prussian Gentleman, who was much afflicted with a complication of disorders, till I cured him by administering a few leaden Boluses—next to him is an Austrian patient, entirely reliev’d by my Austerlitz draught, next to him is a Spaniard, whose case is rather doubtful—I won’t say much about it. The next is a Dutchman—he was a little crack’d, but I have made him as lame as a frog—beyond him is an old gentleman of the Popish persuasion, whom I cured with one bottle of my Italian drops—there are many more in the background, whom I have cured of various disorders, or have now in my care—but, Ladies and Gentlemen, let me particularly draw your attention to the great Russian bear, once a very fierce animal, but dumb like the rest of his species, but after taking a dose of my Friedland Pills, and an application of the Tilsit powder, he is able to converse like a rational being!!!’ Talleyrand, who is on the stage, calls out: ‘Ah, Master Bull, what, are you among the crowd? come now, you and your Sweedish Friend had better step up into the Booth, and take a dose or two of my Master’s pills.’ But John Bull surlily declines the invitation with, ‘We’ll see you and your Master d—d first.’
This of course refers to the meeting of Napoleon and Alexander at Erfurt, where, besides, were collected the Kings of Prussia, Saxony, Bavaria, Würtemberg, and Westphalia, the Prince Primate, the Princes of Anhalt, Coburg, Saxe Weimar, Darmstadt, Baden, Nassau, and Mecklenburg. The two great potentates rivalled each other in their courtesies. But solid business was also to be done; they did not meet simply to waste their time in fêtes. Napoleon engaged not to meddle with Alexander’s designs on Sweden and Turkey, and not to help the Poles. Alexander, on his side, promised not to interfere in Spain, and to recognise the Kings of Spain and Naples. And they wrote a joint letter to George the Third, proposing a general peace, on the basis that each should keep what he had. The English Government, however, asked that Spain and Sweden should be parties; but this, not suiting the designs of the Imperial thieves, the negotiations came to an end.
An unknown artist (November 19, 1808) gives ‘The Progress of the Emperor Napoleon.’ At first he is represented as ‘A Ragged Headed Corsican Peasant’; next, ‘Studying mischief at the Royal Academy at Paris’; then ‘An Humble Ensign in a Republican Corps requesting a situation in the British Army’; afterwards, ‘A determined Atheistical Republican General, ordering his men to fire on the Parisians vollies of grape shot.’ He then changes to ‘A Turk at Grand Cairo’; afterwards he became ‘A runaway from Egypt’; then ‘A devout Catholic,’ and, finally, ‘An Emperor on a throne of iniquities’: on which throne is inscribed, ‘Murders—Duke d’Enghien, Prisoners at Jaffa, Palm, Capt. Williams, Pichegru, Cahon, Toussaint, &c., &c. Robberies innumerable.’