On December 12, 1813, George Cruikshank published ‘Bleeding and Warm Water! or the Allied Doctors bringing Boney to his Senses.’ Here poor Boney is in very evil case. With shaven head, and in an ‘Allied strait waistcoat’ (one sleeve of which is held by Russia, the other by Poland), he is seated on the stool of Repentance in a tub of hot water, consisting of a ‘sea of troubles,’ which is warmed by the flames of Moscow. He is surrounded by all the European sovereigns as doctors, each of whom prescribes his own remedy. Russia gives, as his opinion: ‘I have found a constant application of this Russian _Knout_ to work wonders!!’ John Bull is giving him a fearful bolus, ‘Invasion of France,’ saying at the same time, ‘Work away my Masters, I’ll pay you your _fees_. Ay, ay, rave and rant, Master Boney, but the Devil will _Bone_ you at last.’ Holland is trying ‘what _Dutch drops_ will do,’ by emptying out of a huge cannon a legion of armed Dutchmen on his shaven head. Poland bleeds him by stabbing his arm with a lance, and Prussia catches the blood in a ‘Crown bowl,’ congratulating himself, ‘I think my _Crown_ Razors have shaved his _Crown_ pretty close.’ Spain is applying a plaster to his back: ‘Here is a Plaster of Spanish flies for him.’ Poor Boney, one of whose legs is in the hot water, resists this treatment as far as possible, and yells out, ‘Hence with your Medicines--they but drive me Mad. Curse on your _Dutch Drops_, your _Leipsig Blister_, and your _Spanish flies_; they have fretted me to what I am. D--n your _Cossack Lancets_, they have drained my veins, and rendered me poor and vulnerable indeed--Oh! how I am fallen--But I will still struggle--I will still be great--Myriads of Frenchmen still shall uphold the glory of my name, the grandeur of my Throne, and write my disgrace in the hearts of ye--ye wretched creatures of English gold.’ ‘The Head of the Great Nation in a Queer Situation,’ by G. Cruikshank (December 1813), shows frightened Bonaparte, his magic wand broken, surrounded by his enemies. Wellington points a huge blunderbuss at him, telling the others to ‘Take a good aim at the Head, gentlemen, and we shall soon settle the business.’ Austria, Prussia, and Russia all point pistols at his head. Prussia thinks that ‘by Gar, we shall make de Head look like de Plumb Pudding;’ and Russia says, ‘I’ll rattle a few Snow balls at his Cranium.’ Holland has a cannon which he is filling with bales of Orange Boven, saying, ‘I’ll deal out my oranges to him wholesale.’ From the heavens, the hand of Justice is putting the ‘Allied Extinguisher’ upon him. This picture is copied bodily from a French caricature, ‘Le Chef de la Grande Nation dans une triste position.’