Rowlandson the Caricaturist; a Selection from His Works. Vol. 2 by Joseph Grego

1815. _Vive le Roi! Vive l'Empereur! Vive le Diable! French Constancy

and French Integrity._--As might have been foreseen, Napoleon's old ascendency over the French army asserted itself more strongly than ever; the intermediate state of things and the humiliations to which the country was unavoidably forced to submit during the process of restoring the stolen property and possessions to the rightful owners had increased the national animosity with which the troops and the people continued to regard the foreign invaders, friends, allies, and upholders of _Louis le Desiré_. The more martial spirits, wearied of a restoration with which France felt no sympathy, began to languish for the presence of their great captain, under whose military empire their laurels had been won. The fickleness and instability of the Gallic race are set forth in the present caricature. A trooper has abjured his allegiance to the Bourbons, and is hailing his Corporal with a pinch from his snuffbox; his hat is still garnished with the white cockade, _Vive le Roi!_ above it is a red one, _Vive le Diable!_ and, on the other side, the famous tricolor, and _Vive l'Empereur!_ _French Constancy_ is illustrated in these interchanged emblems. _French Stability_ appears figuratively likened to the sails of a windmill; as to _French Integrity_, the emblems of a monkey and cat, kissing and fondling, pictorially sets forth the 'union between the National Guard and the troops of the line.' _April 12, 1815._ _Scene in a New Pantomime, to be performed at the Theatre Royal, Paris. With entire new music, dances, dresses, scenery, machinery, &c., &c. The principal characters to be supported by most of the great potentates in Europe. Harlequin by Monsieur Napoleon; Clown by King of Wirtemberg; Pantaloon, Emperor of Austria. To conclude with a comic song, to be sung by the Pope, and a grand chorus by the Crowned Heads. Vivant Rex et Regina._ Published by R. Ackermann.--The wonderful exhibition is taking place in the state rooms of the Tuileries. The great throne is empty, and the sceptre and crown are temporarily laid on the steps waiting for their owner. _Presto!_ and in flies Harlequin Bonaparte, pursued at once by all the Powers of Europe, tumbling over one another in confusion, but all armed and aiming at the nimble sprite, who had given them so much trouble to capture and secure, and who is once more to be chased, caught, and bound down again. Clown Wirtemberg is letting off a brace of pistols; Dutch Mynheer and a Prussian grenadier are discharging their blunderbusses; Austria, as Pantaloon, is too startled to be effective; the Cossack is giving the fugitive a prod with his long lance; the King of Spain has drawn the sword and aimed such a blow that it has capsized the swordsman and shaken off his crown; the Pope is armed with an axe; and all the other potentates are crowding in, an irregular mob. The portrait of the Empress, as Columbine, is being taken off the walls. As to the Harlequin, his eye looks dangerous; a dagger is held in either hand-he evidently means mischief; one tiger-like spring, and he has eluded all his pursuers, and the blows they are intending for him recoil on themselves. The portrait of Louis the Eighteenth is in the pathway for which he is making, and the nimble Corsican, in his character of Harlequin, is jumping clean through the huge paunch of the tranquil Bourbon and regaining the security of his old strongholds. _April 16, 1815._ _The Corsican and his Blood Hounds at the Window of the Tuileries, looking over Paris._ Published by R. Ackermann.--Boney, on his arrival in Paris, proceeded to his old quarters in the Tuileries, whence Louis the Eighteenth had but just departed. Napoleon, in spite of his fatigue--for he had barely rested since his landing--sat up all night, concerting fresh measures with his supporters; and in the morning he held a grand review in the Champ de Mars, where his presence excited the most frantic demonstrations of fidelity. France showed herself intoxicated with joy at the chance of receiving back a leader with whom she had, inconsistently enough, parted without expressing much emotion or regret, except so far as the Emperor's more immediate personal adherents were concerned. In the picture we have the streets of Paris represented as being filled with a surging multitude of enthusiasts, while standards, eagles, and heads of enemies are held up on pikes, by the wilder fanatics, as signs of encouragement. _Death_ and the _Devil_ are tempting the Corsican from the balcony of the Tuileries; in 'return for more horrors,' and in exchange for 'death and destruction,' all that he sees is offered the conqueror. The bony skeleton is pointing out the bargain with his dart; but Time's hourglass is standing unperceived at Napoleon's side and the sand is running forth. The figure of the Devil is resting his arms fraternally on the shoulders of Boney and Marshal Ney and drawing them into an ill-starred embrace. The other marshals and adherents are in the rear; but a marked expression of apprehension is shown on the faces of the entire party, with the exception of the two supernatural visitors, who are grinning at the anticipation of fresh iniquities and increasing deadly horrors, with which they entertain the certain prospect of being gratified by their pet _protégé_. _May 10, 1815._ _The Carter and the Gipsies._ Published by T. Tegg.