For the rough, honest tar, had declared from his heart, That he thought this a sight that would beat Bonaparte. Some, again, with composure, predict peace and war, Others look at the great folks, and fancy a star; But we, much fatigued, six o’clock now approaching, And on our good nature we thought them encroaching, When boats are made bridges, nay, tempted to think, That through some of these freedoms, not strange we should sink. But here I must mention, when all was most merry, As here is each size, from the long boat to wherry, When the crowd should disperse, I was fearful, I own, Lest your small boats, by barges, should then be run down. But a truce with our hopes, our predictions and fears, For now, yes at last, our grand object appears; And now every eye to the ship is directed, Though to see Bonaparte, I no longer expected; For between us what number of men! and aghast We stood, as still thicker and thicker the mast. [? _mass_] But now see Napoleon, who seems in his figure, What we call mediocre, nor smaller, nor bigger; For in spite of our fears, how it was, I can’t tell, What our distance allowed of, we saw very well. But in this we’re full right, for now, hurry scurry, Boat rows against boat, with the madness of fury; The show was all over, but time was outstaid By some, and by others, attempts were still made To get round the ship, in hopes Bonaparte might At some place yet be seen, thus to perfect their sight. This doggerel helps us to realise the intense desire of the British public to get at least a glimpse at Boney, that great bugbear who for so many years had been so great a terror to them, and whose existence everyone, from the highest to the lowest, had acutely felt in that tenderest place of our social economy--the breeches pocket. They all but carried out the threat, made twelve years previously, of putting him in Pidcock’s Menagerie, _vide_ the following extracts from a contemporary pamphlet[60]:-- ‘The desire of all ranks to see him was excessive; the guardboats were unable to prevent them from closing the ship, and it was amusement on board to look at the boats contending for places. Napoleon generally walked the quarterdeck about eleven in the forenoon, and half past six in the afternoon. He ate but two meals in the day, both alike, meat of every description, different wines, coffee, fruit, &c. Immediately after each meal he rose first, and the others followed; he then either went on the quarterdeck or in the after-cabin to study. The comedy of _The Poor Gentleman_[61] was performed before him; he was much pleased at it; it went off very well; the scenery was good, but somewhat better dresses were wanted for the _female midshipmen_.[62]