Punch, or The London Charivari | Page 7

my dear POMPOSITY, to torment me by means of BULMER. I may address you again, but, in the meantime,
I remain, your humble Servant, DIOGENES ROBINSON.
* * * * *
A ROYAL (OLYMPIC) DIVORCE.
(_A PAGE FROM FRENCH HISTORY BY MRS. MARKHAM, AFTER W.G. WILLS._)
[Illustration: Wills and Ways; or, a Hand at Nap.]
And so, when NAPOLEON had won Austerlitz, he thought he would marry MARIE LOUISE, Archduchess of Austria, although, as you know, he was already wedded to JOSEPHINE, his first wife. To effect this purpose, he sent his Minister of State, TALLEYRAND, and two comic Marshals, called MURAT and NEY, to see the EMPRESS and explain to her his wishes; and this they did with so much effect that Her Majesty consented, and fainted on the spot. Whether the swoon was real, or in another sense a feint, is not known, because she was a mistress of deception. For instance, although she was nearly a negress in complexion, she managed, at the Palace of Fontainebleau, to appear in a flaxen wig, and with all the appearance of a blonde beauty. Shortly after the EMPEROR's marriage with his new wife, that lady called upon her predecessor, and behaved in such a fashion that JOSEPHINE was justified in calling her "vulgar." A little later, with the assistance of a British Dramatist, called W.G. WILLS (who had already made some alterations in the History of England for the benefit of CHARLES THE FIRST and Mr. HENRY IRVING), she managed to protect the baby King of Rome from a ballet mob in the Gardens of the Tuileries, and also to afford considerable assistance to her Austrian successor while that "vulgar" person was crawling up some stone steps. Later still, she contrived to have an affecting interview on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo with NAPOLEON himself, although it has been reported in some quarters that she had become defunct a year before the occurrence of that important victory. It was on this occasion that the Hero of Austerlitz gave a most valuable testimonial to the British Army, to whom he referred as "bull-dogs who never knew when they were beaten," and soldiers with iron-like tenacity. JOSEPHINE subsequently died of visions at Malmaison to the soothing sound of soft music kindly supplied by a semi-concealed orchestra.
CONVERSATION ON A ROYAL (OLYMPIC) DIVORCE.
_Mrs. Markham_. And now, dear little FRANK, can you tell me why the Battle of Waterloo was lost?
Frank. Because, dear Mamma, it was removed from its resting-place in the Panorama close to Victoria Street.
_Mrs. Markham_. That is a most intelligent reply, but I do not think you are quite right. I fancy the Battle must have been lost because, out of the couple of dozen or so of French soldiers who took part in the Victory in Wych Street, a considerable number had to be told off to see that NAPOLEON's charger behaved himself.
[Illustration: Waterloo in Play; or, the Charge of a Charger.]
George. And yet, dear mother, after the performances, I myself saw the noble steed trotting most good-naturedly in rear of a hansom cab.
_Mrs. Markham_. When you are all older, I will take you myself to examine the Model of the celebrated Battle in the Royal United Service Institution; in the meanwhile, you may rest satisfied with the explanation I have afforded you.
Mary. But mother, dear, do you not think that NAPOLEON and his Army may possibly have trembled at the red fire and the picture of carnage on the painted canvas, that, on the occasion under discussion, confronted them?
_Mrs. Markham_. It is not improbable; and now, CHARLES, can you tell me anything about NAPOLEON?
Charles. Yes, dearest Mamma. He was strikingly like Mr. BOLTON the excellent Member of Parliament, who represents so ably a portion of St. Pancras, and had a curious and clever way of hugging his elbows when his arms were crossed behind his back.
_Mrs. Markham_. That was indeed the case, and I am glad to see that you have paid so much attention to historical accuracy. And you, MARY, what do you know about the Ladies-in-waiting upon the Empress JOSEPHINE?
Mary. That even in the direst straits they were fond of practical joking. One of them, for instance, on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo, finding a general's uniform, that for some unaccountable reason was hanging up in an inn at Jenappes, assumed the costume, and, thus disguised, had a great deal of fun with her husband, the Marshal AUGEREAU, who was then on his way to the front, with the avowed purpose of engaging the allied armies of England and Prussia in mortal combat.
_Mrs. Markham_. And you, FRANK--what do you know of TALLEYRAND?
Frank. That there seemed to be some doubt about his proper title. Some called him "Monseigneur," some "Monsieur," and some even "My shoe" and "My sheer."
_Mrs. Markham_. Well, my