The Treaty of Amiens had been signed on March 25, 1802 putting an end to the war between England and France which had been going on since April of 1792. During what turned out to be a temporary cessation in the hostiities rather than a lasting peace, English men and women flocked to the continent to visit countries that had been shut to them for many years. Among the numerous English visitors who took this opportunity was Charles James Fox.
This print purports to portray the scene that took place on September 2nd, 1802 when Fox and Napoleon Buonaparte were formally introduced at a levee at the Tuileries in Paris. It shows the recently proclaimed First Consul for Life, dressed in his military uniform, and seated on a throne surrounded by his armed Egyptian Mameluke bodyguards. Before him a visiting English contingent bows with varying degrees of abject servility. It includes Fox and his wife (the former courtesan and actress, Elizabeth Armistead), the Whig lawyer Thomas Erskine (famous for defending revoutionaries), Fox's nephew Lord Holland and his wife, and (winning the prize for servility), the M.P. and diplomat Robert Adair. Between Napoleon and the fawning English party, seeming to introduce them, is Arthur O'Connor a member of the United Irishmen who had been exiled from England for his activities in planning a French invasion of Ireland in support of the 1798 Irish Rebellion.
© Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Yale University
The figures are mostly identified and/or satrirized by characteristic personal details or by papers protruding from their pockets. Out of O'Connor's pocket, for instance, there is a note with the words: "Trial of O'Conner at Maid[stone]" referring to O'Connor's trial for high treason at Maidstone in May 1798. Mrs. Armistead is cruelly satirized by her huge girth and by the pox marks of her former profession. Erskine is identified by his lawyer's wig and robes. The prostrate Adair is identified somewhat cryptically by two notes: one that says "'Revolutionary Odes, by Citizen Bow-ba-dara' and another labeled "Intelligence for the Morning Chronicle." Both refer to an article in the June 25, 1798 edition of the Anti-Jacobin, or Weekly Examiner reprinted in 1801 in The Poetry of the Anti-Jacobin. The article includes a versified letter supposedly from Bawba-Dara-Adul-Phoola (Bob Adair, a Dull Fool) to Neek-Awl-Aretchid-Kooez ([John] Nicholl[s] a Wretched Goose). The accompanying preface explains that the editors of the Anti-Jacobin believe the young man responsible for the letter is the same "deplorable young man" who penned an article " in last week's Morning Chronicle which we have had occasion to answer in a preceding column of our present paper."
For those familiar with Gillray's prints, Fox would need no further identification. But the papers emerging from his pocket (Original Jacobin Manuscripts) refer to a recent project of Fox's—his ambition to write a Whig history of the Stuart monarchs. Such a history would put his own support of the majesty of the people in the context of a long-time struggle against absolute monarchy which resulted in the deposition of James II and the Glorious Revolution of 1688. Many of the original manuscripts from that period ended up in France where James found refuge. So one of the reasons for Fox's trip to France was to conduct research. But Gillray includes the detail not only because it was current news, but because of the irony it suggested—the former great defender of personal liberty against an absolutist crown bowing down to the dictatorial would-be emperor of France.
Not surpisingly, the print is designed for maximum satiric effect not for historical accuracy. As reported in the September 7th edition of the London Star based on the French reports of attendees, Fox was presented at the leveee not by Arthur O'Connor but by "Mr. Merry, Minister Plenipotentiary of his Britannic Majesty." O'Connor was not present at the meeting at all. And since it was a really a meeting designed to introduce the members of the foreign diplomatic corps to the First Consul, it was not a private meeting with Fox and his entourage, but attended by some twenty-eight other British officials (all of them listed) and representatives from other foreign states including the Vatican, Russia, Prussia, Denmark, and Sweden. Mrs. Fox, Erskine, Adair, and Lord and Lady Holland are not even mentioned in this offical listing. But we know from the Memoirs of Fox's Secretary, John Bernard Trotter that at least Erskine and Adair attended (if somewhat awkwardly).
Also according to Trotter, Napoleon was flanked not by his Mameluke guards but by "the second and third Consuls, LeBrun and Cambaceres." And he was dressed not in miitary uniform, but
plainly, though richly in the embroidered consular coat—without powder in his hair, . . . like a private gentleman, indifferent as to dress, and devoid of all haughtiness in his air.
As his reference in the print title suggests ("Vide the Monitor & Cobbett's Letters) these changes and indeed the impetus for many of the details in Gillray's perspective came from recent articles in the French and English Press. In August 1802, Buonaparte had proclaimed himself First Consul for Life, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that his military dictatorship was evolving into a de facto monarchy. Gillray shows him in miitary dress, wearing his sword surrounded by armed guards while his right hand nearly covers a globe upheld by the figure of Atlas. But he is sitting on what is clearly intended to recall the throne of Louis XIV, the Sun King (much to the surprise of the sun). His right foot is extended as if (king-like) he is offering it to be kissed.
When Fox arrived in Calais for the start of his trip, he is reported to have met the convicted traitor Arthur O'Connor (living in Calais at the time) for dinner, putting a long-standing friendship ahead of potentially damning political appearances. So it is not surprising that Gillray (following Cobbett) seizes on the meeting to suggest an even closer relationship in the print as go-between for Fox and Napoleon. And further, by putting Fox between Arthur O'Connor and the Lawyer Thomas Erskine (who was not part of the Fox contingent), Gillray positions him between a revolutionary traitor and a famous defender of revolutionaries. Everything conspires to damn Fox for the company he keeps.
But perhaps the most striking departure from history is the presence of Mrs. Armistead at the Grande Levee. Her pig-like face and mound-like bulk occupy the very center of the print. The feathers of her headress are the pivot points of the design: one encapsuating the Fox group, the other echoing the curved swords of the Mamelukes and marking the boundary of Naploeon's group. The central red feather virtually divides the print in half. Gillray has grotequely emphasized every trait that could associate her with her past as a courtesan: the preponderance of rouge on her cheeks, the loss of teeth in her mouth, and the pox marks on her face. The point, I believe, is to emphasise that this print is about prostitution—the prostitution of Fox's principles.
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