He builds barges and cock boats, and craft without end And numbers the boats which to England he’ll send; But in spite of his craft, and his barges and boats ‘_He still reckons, I think, without one of his hosts_.’ He rides upon France and he tramples on Spain, And holds Holland and Italy tight in a Chain; These he hazards for more, though I can’t understand, ‘_How one bird in the bush is worth two in the hand_.’ He trusts that his luck will all danger expel, ‘_But the pitcher is broke that goes oft to the well_’; And when our brave soldiers this Bully surround, ‘_Though he’s thought_ Penny Wise, _he’ll be foolish in_ Pound.’ France can never forget that our fathers of yore, Used to pepper and baste her at sea and at shore; And we’ll speedily prove to this mock-Alexander, ‘_What was sauce for the goose, will be sauce for the Gander_.’ I have heard and have read in a great many books, Half the Frenchmen are Tailors, and t’other half Cooks;-- We’ve fine Trimmings in store for the Knights of the Cloth, ‘_And the Cooks that come here, will but spoil their own broth_.’ It is said that the French are a numerous race, And perhaps it is true--for ‘_ill weeds grow apace_’; But come when they will, and as many as dare, ‘_I expect they’ll arive a day after the fair_.’ To invade us more safely these warriors boast They will wait till a storm drives our fleet from the Coast, That ’twill be an ‘_ill wind_,’ will be soon understood, For a wind _that blows_ Frenchmen, ‘_blows nobody good_.’ They would treat Britain worse than they’ve treated Mynheer, But they’ll find ‘_they have got the wrong sow by the ear_.’ Let them come then in swarms, by this Corsican lead, And I warrant ‘_we’ll hit the right nail on the head_.’ The year 1804 was a most eventful one for Napoleon. With all his hatred of England, and his wish for her invasion, he was powerless in that matter, and had plenty to employ him at home. The English had got used to their bugbear the flotilla, and the caricaturist had a rest. Napoleon had his hands full. First and foremost was that conspiracy against his life and government, in which Georges Cadoudal, Moreau, and Pichegru figure so prominently, and which entailed the execution of the Duc d’Enghien. The Bourbon house he so detested, He had the Duke d’Enghien arrested; A sort of trial then took place, And sentence passed--the usual case. ’Tis said that Boney chose a spot, To see the gallant fellow shot.