In this plate we see Maria Louisa preparing to go to bed, Madame Letitia, Napoleon’s mother, pulling off her stockings. The old lady cries out, ‘Ah, de Ghost!! de Ghost of mon Nap.’ The Empress is frightened, and exclaims, ‘Jesu Maria, what is this so woe begone? It cannot be my husband, he promised to return in triumph, it must be his Ghost.’ Even his little boy, the King of Rome, doubts his identity. He is getting ready for bed, and already has his nightcap on, but he runs away in fright, crying, ‘That ain’t my Papa!! he said he would bring me some Russians to cut up. I think they have cut him up.’ Whilst Bonaparte, who enters in a most dilapidated condition, with his toes coming through his boots, his sword and scabbard broken, and his face besmeared with dirt, calls out dolefully, ‘Me voici! your poor Nap escape from de Cossack--by gar, I jump out of de window for my life, and I now jump into bed vid my wife.’ The ladies-in-waiting have fainted, and one, having left the warming-pan in the bed, has set it on fire, and it is burning brightly. On January 1, 1813, was published another caricature of the retreat from Moscow: ‘Boney returning from Russia covered with Glory, leaving his Army in _Comfortable_ Winter Quarters. Nap and Joe, from France would go To fill the world with slaughter, Joe fell down, and broke his crown, And Nap came tumbling after.’ Napoleon, with one of his generals, is in full retreat, in a sledge, leaving his army pursued by the Russians, and the ground strewn with dead men and horses. The general asks, ‘Will your Majesty write the Bulletin?’ ‘No,’ answers Napoleon, ‘you write it! tell them we have left the Army all well, quite gay, in excellent Quarters, plenty of provisions--that we travelled in great Style--received everywhere with congratulations, and that I have almost compleated the _repose of Europe_.’ George Cruikshank (February 22, 1813) produced, after a picture by David, a most laughable caricature, called ‘The Hero’s Return. Dishonest, with lopp’d arms, the man appears, Spoil’d of his nose, and shorten’d of his ears. She scarcely knew him, striving to disown His blotted form, and blushing to be known.’ Dryden’s _Virgil_, Book 6. Poor Napoleon, in very evil case, _sans_ nose, ears, fingers, and toes, is borne in, supported by two Mamelukes, and riding on the back of another, who is on all fours. The Empress is tearing her hair, and weeping violently, whilst a maid-of-honour is holding a smelling-bottle to her nose. Another lady-in-waiting has seized the King of Rome, who is yelling with fright at the sight his father presents. His very dog barks at him, and universal consternation prevails. The Oriental on the floor holds a glass bottle containing Napoleon’s nose; whilst three others in the rear bear respectively bottles which hold the Emperor’s fingers, toes and ears. After the return of Napoleon from Moscow, the following _jeu d’esprit_ was published:--