I, Napoleon Buonaparte, flattered by all the French nation that I was invincible, have most cruelly and most childishly attempted the subjugation of the world. I have lost my fleets, I have lost the largest and finest armies ever heard of, and I am now become the indignation of the world and the scorn and sport of boys. Had I not spurned the firm wisdom of the Right Hon. William Pitt, I might have secured an honourable peace, I might have governed the greatest nation; but, alas! my ambition has deceived me, and Pitt's plans have ruined me. _November 29, 1813._ _Dutch Nightmare, or the Fraternal Hug Returned with a Dutch Squeeze._ Published by R. Ackermann.--The great Emperor is stretched, sleepless, on his imperial state bed, with the diadem above and a row of captive crowns embroidered round the canopy, the fasces of Roman lictors at the feet, and the furniture powdered with golden eagles and fleur-de-lis. This luxurious couch is not to be coveted, since tranquil rest is out of the question. The Emperor is writhing in agony, saddled with a nightmare which is not to be dislodged. The Hollanders at this time contrived to shake themselves free from their fraternal friends the French, who had laid their country under contributions until the disciples of freedom prayed to be delivered from their tutors. The example of Holland and the victories ending with the triumph at Leipzig gained by the Allies, and especially the successes secured under Wellington, re-encouraged the subjugated and prostrate Powers to look forward to the recovery of their freedom, and to take their revenge on the little conqueror. A stout Dutchman, dressed in his national costume, and wearing the Orange cockade, is, according to the picture, returning the lesson in fraternity which had cost him dear at the hands of the French, by showing his instructor the vigour of a hearty Dutch squeeze. This heavy incubus, with his hands in his pockets, is smoking his pipe, and puffing the distasteful fumes full into the face of the powerless and disgusted Corsican, and crying, 'Orange Boven!' _November 30, 1813._ _Plump to the Devil we boldly Kicked both Nap and his Partner Joe._ Published by T. Tegg (234).--The heavy Hollander, still sporting his Orange colours, is finally roused to dispose of the intruders by the most summary and quickest method possible; with his pipe in one hand and a squab bottle of Schiedam, or Dutch courage, held like a mallet in the other, Mynheer is giving Nap a taste of Dutch weight; one vigorous kick has propelled the little Corsican high into the air and plump into the arms of the Father of Evil, who is emerging from his 'Brimstone Lake' to make sure of his friend. In the distance another Dutchman, provided with a pitchfork, is prodding Napoleon's brother Louis--who had been created King of Holland--towards the same refuge for the destitute; the usurper's crown being left behind in the flight.