‘At the conference, a French officer sat apart from the two others, wrapped in his cloak, but within hearing of what passed. After the discussion was finished, this officer came forward and wrote marginal answers to the conditions proposed by Würmser; granting terms far more favourable than those which might have been exacted in the extremity to which the veteran was reduced. “These,” said the unknown officer, giving back the paper, “are the terms that I grant, if he opens his gates to-morrow; and if he delays a fortnight, a month, or two months, he shall have the same terms. He may hold out to his last morsel of bread; to-morrow I pass the Po and march upon Rome.” Klenau, recognising Napoleon, and struck with the generosity of the conditions he had granted, owned that only three days’ provisions remained in Mantua.’ The earliest English caricature of Napoleon that I have met with, was published on April 14, 1797, all those hitherto given, being of later date. It is not worth reproducing, as the artist had evidently no knowledge of what manner of man Napoleon was. It is called the ‘French Bugabo[34] frightening the Royal Commanders.’ Bonaparte (a perfectly fanciful, and horrible sketch) is seated on the back of some impossible Saurian--meant, probably, for the devil--who is vomiting armies and cannon. He calls out, ‘Egad, they run well. Courez donc Messieurs les Princes!!!’ Of the two royal commanders running away, Frederick Duke of York is calling out to his companion, ‘I wish I was at York. Come on, Charles, follow me.’ Fox, who acts the part of ‘the sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,’ says, ‘Run, Frederick, run Charles, Mack, Wurmsell, Kell; well done D’Alvinzi, now Davidovich.’ The poor Pope is being trodden under the beast, and cries out, ‘Oh Lord! this rebel son of mine pays me no homage whatever.’ Of all the attempts of the French to invade England, perhaps the most ludicrous was that which took place in February 1797. On the 22nd of that month, a French corvette, and a lugger, made for the coast of Pembrokeshire, and there landed some 1,200 men. Two days after, they surrendered to Lord Cawdor, and were sent to Haverfordwest: but, before the arrival of the military, the peasants attacked them with rough weapons, such as pikes and scythes. The ships, which brought this invading army over, were captured on their return to Brest. The following is an official letter to the Lord Mayor, respecting the event:--