Aatch, whose kanda trop gore presides prer the resso The Spire that can never rest free

Buttvery bout: Offspring of Treason! come firi Cules to her exordina, the Parentx Napoleon se fre & clára exddining, Tend, Viet Viel." Anand the citra geekly dance the marshals of the Empire Maging Ah! ha! by gar, now we shall begin our Bloody wik azán ? and in the heavens is shown a genius, haring a crown and sceptre in one hand, and a guillotine in the other, who says, 'Rise, rise, thou faworld son of Fate. Death or a Diadem shall reward thy labours.'

In one part of the picture is shown the Prince Regent indolently reclining on a divan, a huge decanter by his side, the prime minister presenting him with the news of the Return of Boney to Paris and the Decision of Congress: saying at the same time, May it please my Prince, but these are events we never calculated upon. I had no objection to the sacrifice of Saxony to the ambition of Prussia: I had no objection to the views of Alexander upon Poland: I had no objection to the transfer of Norway to Sweden: I had no objection to the union of Belgium with Holland: I had no objection to all these things; but I could not foresee that the people would be dissatisfied and wish for the return of Buonaparte-to which I have every objection.' The Regent, his eyes starting out of his head, exclaims, How? shall I lose Hanover? shall I lose all we have been fighting for?'

In another part is Solomon's Temple, in which sit the Congress, wrangling over the division of a huge cake. Gouty Louis the Eighteenth, mounted on a donkey, is off, hard gallop, to Vienna, calling out, 'Gee up, Neddy—adieu to the Lily in the Violet season! adieu to my good City of Paris! whilst Wellington, on horseback, is going full speed to Belgium.

CHAPTER LVIII.

PREPARATIONS FOR WAR--THE SHORT CAMPAIGN-WATERLOO

NAPOLEON'S ABDICATION.

'THE Royal Allied Oak and self-created mushroom Kings' is a curiosity on account of the many profiles contained therein. An account of them is given as under :

Behold the Oak whose firm fix'd stay

Doth check Oppression's course,
Whose slightest branch can ne'er decay,
While strong with Virtue's force.

Our much lov'd Sovereign decks the branch,
The highest of the Tree:

And peaceful Louis tho' driven from France,
Among its boughs you'll see.

The Regent's Portrait next behold,
Whose Councils Wisdom guides;
And Russia's noble Monarch bold,
Who check'd the Tyrant's strides.
Immortal Wellington next is seen,
Whose fame can ne'er expire ;
And vet'ran Blucher's warlike mien
That kindled Napoleon's ire.

The Mushroom race you have to seek

In weeds about the root,

Who scarce dare at the Oak to peep,

Or at its princely fruit.

VOL. II.

Q

This clever picture is by I. Field, and was published May 29, 1815.

THE ROYAL ALLIED OAK AND SELF-CREATED MUSHROOM KINGS.

S. T. Taw, a new caricaturist, gives us 'The Crown Candidates, or a modest request politely refused' (May 1815). Louis the Eighteenth, Napoleon, and the young King of Rome are seated at a table. The former is saying, in the hopes of an amicable settlement being come to, Sire, when you have done with the Empire, I will thank you to let me have it.' Napoleon replies, 'I am sorry, Sire, it is engaged for that young Gentleman.' The King of Rome has a torn map, which he is trying to piece, and he says, 'I think I shall be able to unite them.'

G. Cruikshank drew (June 1, 1815) which is somewhat elaborate in detail.

pied by a funeral pyre, to which fire has already been applied, Sacred to the Bourbon cause, and dedicated to the Downfall of illegitimate Tyranny.' Atop of this is chaired a bull, decked with flowers for the sacrifice, and draped with a cloth, on which is inscribed: 'Land Tax-Ditto Personal -Tax on Windows, Dogs, Houses, Servants, Clerks, Shopmen, Carts, Hair powder, Horses, Waiters, Travellers, Income, Armorial bearings,' &c. &c. Poor John Bull bellows, Alas, and must I come to this! have I bled for so many years in your service, and will you now take my life?' A typical representative of the House of Commons assures him that it is Better to die Johnny, than live, and see thrive the thing we hate-Let us arm-war-war -interminable war I say, down with the Regicide-no quarter to the Usurper-So I said at Congress, so I now repeat, and if it is your fate to expire at the Altar, Johnny, all I ask is that I may live to preach your funeral sermon.' A typical House of Lords is about to give him the coup de grâce with a pole-axe inscribed New War Taxes,' comforting him with No grumbling Johnny, you are a Noble Sacrifice and worthy of the Cause.' A number of empty bags are waiting to be filled—‘Subsidies,' 'The Army,' The Navy,''Contractors,' &c.

The left-hand portion of the picture shows the Prince Regent reclining idly on the throne undergoing his toilet, His idea of the gravity of the situation may be gathered from his speech: Why this looks like war! Order me a brilliant Fête, send me a Myriad of Cooks and Scullions -say to me no more of Civil Lists and deserted wives, but of lascivious Mistresses and Bacchanalian Orgies-To it, Pell mell-my soul is eager for the fierce encounter-What,

Q 2

are my Whiskers' easier than they were?' One of his valets says, 'Your highness shall in all things be obey'd'; whilst one, who is measuring him round the waist, tells him, I think these will be the best stays your highness has had yet.'

In the background are seen soldiery, and Wellington and Blücher sharpening their swords. Poor gouty Louis is clad in armour, and is mounted on Talleyrand as a charger. He is accompanied by an army of two men, armed with bottles of Eau Medicinal, and his artillery is composed of rolls of flannel. He soliloquises: 'Well-we've Tally for the Field to-morrow! but don't forget the Eau Medicinal and the Fleecy Hosiery; alas! these gouty limbs are but ill adapted to Jack boots and spurs-I think I had better fight my battles over a cool bottle with my friend George.'

The extreme right of the engraving shews Napoleon giving orders to 'Let loose the Dogs of War;' which is obeyed by one of his marshals, who delightedly exclaims, 'Here is a glorious pack already sniffing human blood, and fresh for slaughter-On-comrades-on! the word is Bonaparte, Beelzebub and Blood.'

There is a very amusing skit about these 'R-1 Whiskers,' which were assumed to be as false as the historical wigs, published early in 1816. It is too long to reproduce, although it is really laughable; but, at all events, space can be found for the first few lines.

L'ADIEU.

From a puissant Prince to his Cast-off Whiskers, on his leaving
London to make an Excursion.

Adieu, my dear Whiskers! dear Whiskers, adieu !
I ne'er shall love Whiskers as I have lov'd you,
So becoming your form, and so brilliant your hue,
I ne'er admir'd Whiskers as I've admired you.
Your curve was so lovely, so like a horse-shoe,
Not a Whisker at Court was so lovely as you.
The Baron Geramb's were immense, it is true,
But they didn't sweep round half so tasty as you.