A.D. 1830.] LOUIS PHILIPPE CHOSEN KING OF THE FRENCH. killed. Alarming reports spread through the city that the blood of the people was being wantonly shed, and that women were not spared. The black flag was raised in various quarters, ominous of the desperate nature of the struggle. The night of the 27th was spent in preparation. The shops of the armourers were visited, and the citizens armed themselves with all sorts of weapons-pistols, sabres, bayonets, &c. In every street men were employed digging up the pavements, and carrying stones to the tops of the houses, or piling them behind the barricades, which were being constructed of omnibuses and fiacres at successive distances of about fifty paces. The fine trees of the Boulevards were cut down, and used for the same purpose. The garrison of Paris was commanded by general Marmont. It consisted altogether of 11,500 men. At daybreak on the 28th the citizens were nearly ready for battle. Early in the morning national guards were seen hastening to the Hotel de Ville, amidst the cheers of the people. Parties of cavalry galloped up and down, and occasionally a horseman, shot from a window, fell back out of his saddle. At ten o'clock Marmont formed six columns of attack, preceded by cannon, which were to concentrate round the Hotel de Ville. The insurgents retired before the artillery, and the troops, abandoning the open places, took shelter in the houses and behind barriers. In the meantime a desperate fight raged at the Hotel de Ville, which was taken possession of, and bravely defended by the national guards. Their fire from the top of the building was unceasing, while the artillery thundered below. It was taken and re-taken several times. It appears that hitherto the government had no idea of the nature of the contest. Early in the day marshal Marmont wrote to the king, who was at the palace of St. Cloud: "It is no longer a riot, it is a revolution. It is urgent your majesty should take the means of pacification." Charles sent a verbal answer by an aide-de-camp, urging him emphatically "to be firm, to unite his forces in the Carrousel and on the Place Louis XV., and to act with masses." M. Arago thought that the marshal's heart was never in the cause for which he was fighting, though as a soldier he felt bound to obey. The testimony, however, is conflicting as to the nature of the preparations made by the government to defend the violent course that had been adopted. The natural impression in Englaud was, that those preparations were of the most complete and formidable kind; but the author of a pamphlet on "The Military Events of the late French Revolution," and other French writers supported by the Quarterly Review, represent the government as having been wholly unprepared. The journals had proclaimed open war. They declared that the social contract being torn, they were bound and authorised to use every possible mode of resistance, and that between right and violence the struggle could not be protracted. This was on the 26th; but at four o'clock p.m., on the 27th, the troops had received no orders; and when they were called out of barracks shortly after, many officers were absent, not having been apprised that any duty whatever was expected. The night offered leisure to arrange and opportunity to execute all necessary precautions. The circumstances were urgent, the danger obvious and imminent; yet nothing at 161 all was done. It is stated that all the circumstances were duly represented to the proper authorities, but nothing was attended to. "Blindness, folly, and fatuity were triumphant. At last, as had been promised on the 26th, ushered by acclamations of Vive la charte,' appeared the tri-coloured flag. The attack and disarming of the detached guard-houses, the capture of the arsenal and of the powder magazine, the disarming of the companies of fusiliers, all took place in a moment. The mob assembled early in the Place de la Grève, in front of the Hotel de Ville, and took possession of it; and all this was done without the slightest opposition, and was all over by eight o'clock, while the troops were still in their barracks." * The contest lasted for three days with varying fortunes. Twice the palace of the Tuileries was taken and abandoned; but on the third day the citizens were finally victorious, and the tri-coloured flag was placed on the central pavilion. Marmont, seeing that all was lost, withdrew his troops; and on the afternoon of the 29th Paris was left entirely at the command of the triumphant population. The national guard was organised, and general Lafayette, "the veteran of patriotic revolutions," took the command. Notwithstanding the severity of the fighting, the casualties were not very great. About 700 citizens lost their lives, and about 2,000 were wounded. It was stated that the troops were encouraged to fight by a lavish distribution of money, about a million francs having been distributed amongst them, for the purpose of stimulating their loyalty. The deputies met on the 31st, and resolved to invite Louis Philippe, duke of Orleans, to be lieutenant-general of the kingdom. He accepted the office, and issued a proclamation which stated that the charter would thenceforth be a truth. The chambers were opened on the 3rd of August, 200 deputies were present; the galleries were crowded with peers, general officers of the old army, the diplomatic body, and other distinguished persons. The duke, in his opening speech, dwelt upon the violations of the charter, and stated that he was attached by conviction to the principles of free government. At a subsequent meeting the chamber conferred upon him the title of the king of the French. He took the oath to observe the charter, which had been revised in several particulars. On the 17th of August Charles X. arrived in England; and by a curious coincidence there was a meeting that day in the London Tavern, at which an address to the citizens of Paris, written by Dr. Bowring, congratulating them on the revolution of July, was unanimously adopted. Meetings of a similar kind were held in many of the cities and towns of the United Kingdom. Feelings of delight and admiration pervaded the public mind in this country: delight that the cause of constitutional freedom had so signally triumphed, and admiration of the heroism of the citizens, and the order and self-control with which they conducted themselves in the hour of victory. Thus ended the revolution of July, 1830. It was short and decisive, but it had been the finale of a long struggle. The battle had been fought in courts and chambers by constitutional lawyers and patriotic orators. It had been fought with the pen in newspapers, pamphlets, songs, plays, poems, novels, histories. It had been fought with the pencil in caricatures of all sorts. It was the triumph of public opinion over military despotism. To commemorate the three days of July, it was determined to erect a column on the Place de la Bastille, which was completed in 1840. tributed." They contributed very little indeed to the rapid growth of wealth and intelligence among the middle classes, or to the spirit of inquiry which animated a large portion of the mechanics and operatives. The love of freedom burns long in the hearts of the lower ranks of the people before it reaches the aristocratic class; and it The effect of the issue upon the state of parties in Eng- never reaches it before great and unsuccessful efforts have land was tremendous. The Morning Chronicle, then the been made to extinguish its flames. Some members of the organ of the whig party, said, "The battle of English aristocracy, no doubt, naturally sympathise with popular liberty has really been fought and won at Paris." The movements and social progress; but it is contrary to the Times thundered the great fact, with startling reverbera- instinct of their order, and it has been found in all ages tion, throughout the United Kingdom. Mr. Brougham, in that, with rare exceptions, aristocratic tribunes wield the the house of commons, spoke of it as that revolution which power of the democracy as a means of gratifying personal in his conscience he believed to be "the most glorious" in ambition, or promoting the interests of the political parties the annals of mankind, and he expressed his heartfelt with which they happen to be identified. Unless Mr. admiration, his cordial gratitude to the patriots of that Roebuck misrepresents the party whose history he has great nation, for the illustrious struggle they were making. studied so well, the whigs, in 1830, finding the people in This language expresses the feelings which prevailed England discontented with the government, and roused to through all classes of the people of this country, and it enthusiasm by the happy result of the great revolution in may be easily supposed that the effect was most favourable to the liberal party, and most damaging to the tories, especially as the exciting events occurred at the time of the general election; and prince Polignac being considered the particular friend of the duke of Wellington, his ministry was called in France the Wellington administration. All these things were against the premier; the hostility of the anti-catholic party, the alienation of the whig, the accession of a liberal monarch, and the odium of the supposed intimate relationship with the vanquished despotism of France. Mr. Roebuck remarks, that "no great move has hitherto been made in England of a political character, unless under the aid and guidance of some portion, and a large portion, of the aristocracy. Whether in 1660, or 1688, or 1830, the popular chiefs belonged to this class, and by their countenance maintained, increased, and directed the popular enthusiasm or feeling which at each epoch they found already existing, but which had been brought about by circumstanc to which they had but little if at all con France, took advantage of this state of things, and at once assumed the office of leaders of the people, "hoping to turn the popular feeling to their own party benefit." They evidently, he says, knew little of the popular feeling which they sought to lead, and little suspected the strength of the current to which they were about to commit themselves. Not aware of the highly excitable state of the people, they, when they began the contest of the elections, employed language most inflammatory and unguarded, supposing that it would fall on the dull ears of ordinary constituencies. They were startled by the response they receivel, and began very quickly to be alarmed by their own success. The aristocratic whig leaders judged of the state of feeling among the masses by the opinions of the narrow circles in which they were accustomed to live-of their own sets and coteries, and especially of the house of commons. Residing most of their time in London, in the midst of the bustle and gaiety of high life; carelessly Roebuck, vol. i., p. 316. to be as follows:-Of the eighty-two members returned by the forty counties of England, only twenty-eight were steady adherents of the ministry; forty-seven were avowed adherents of the opposition, and seven of the neutral cast did not lean much to government. Of the thirteen popular cities and boroughs (London, Westminster, Aylesbury, &c.), returning twenty-eight members, only three seats were held by decidedly ministerial men, and twenty-four by men in avowed opposition. There were sixty other places, more or less open, returning 126 members. Of these only fortyseven were ministerial; all the rest were avowed opposition men, save eight, whose leaning was rather against the government than for it. Of the 236 men then returned by elections more or less popular in England, only seventynine were ministerial votes; 141 were in avowed opposition, and sixteen of a neutral cast.* It was stated positively at the time that the duke of Wellington did not put forth the power of the government in the usual way on this occasion to gain the elections, and that his supporters were rather disheartened. It is not easy to account for this, if it be the fact. He was opposed to parliamentary reform; he hated revolution; but perhaps he was disgusted with party conflicts, or he may have despaired of the issue, and thought it useless to waste his resources on a hopeless contest; and we are assured that he was by no means blind to the abuses which had crept in upon our parliamentary system. He was not averse to glancing through the morning papers, in order to catch up the topics of the day, they had formed a very inadequate conception of the intense earnestness, sound sense, and practical intelligence of the middle classes. The progress that the electors had made in liberality of sentiment was evinced, especially by two of the elections. Mr. Hume, the radical reformer, the cold, calculating economist, the honest, plain-speaking man of the people, was returned for the county of Middlesex without opposition; and Mr. Brougham, a barrister, who owed nothing to family connections-who, by the steadiness of his industry, the force of his character, the extent of his learning, and the splendour of his eloquence, devoted perseveringly for years to the popular cause, had won for himself, at the same time, the highest place in his profession, and the foremost position in the senate-was returned for Yorkshire. These counties had hitherto been the preserves of the great landed proprietors. Lord Fitzwilliam, though the personal friend of Mr. Brougham, did not like this intrusion of a foreigner into that great county. Indeed, it had been sufficiently guarded against all but very wealthy men, by the enormous expense of a contest. In 1826, when a contest was only threatened, and the election ended with a nomination, Mr. John Marshall's expenses amounted to £17,000; and, on a previous occasion, it was rumoured that Lord Milton had spent £70,000 in a contest. Mr. Brougham had gool reason, personally, to be a friend of parliamentary reform. It must have been galling, in a man of his spirit and sym-close boroughs, which he considered an essential feature of pathies, to have been, during the whole lengthened period of his political career, the nominee of a whig borough proprietor. After his defeat in Liverpool, in 1812, he was out of parliament for three sessions; but, at the request of earl Grey, lord Darlington brought him in for the borough of Winchelsea, The elections, which began in the end of August, took place in the midst of an excitement such as never before moved-so generally and profoundly-the constituencies of England. The enthusiasm excited by the French revolution was unbounded and universal. The English mind, sympathetic with freedom all over the world, intensely admired the heroism displayed by the Parisians during "the glorious three days," unstained by a single act of cruelty or of pillage. The press of this country exulted in the fact that it was the literary men of Paris that invoked the spirit of revolution among the people, and restrained it within the bounds of the constitution in the moment of its triumph; and that some of the most distinguished members of the press became ministers of state under a citizen king. It was to be expected that all this excitement should tell decisively on the results of the elections; but the gains of the liberals were more important from the character of the constituencies that came over to their cause than from their number. The greatest of the constituencies, those of them which carried most moral weight, returned the opposition candidates by overwhelming majorities; while not one cabinet minister obtained a seat by anything like a popular election. The general result of the elections was considered to have diminished by fifty the number of votes on which ministers could depend, and the relation in which they now stood to the more popular part of the representation was statel the constitution, "and perhaps the greatest bulwark of imperial government in the abstract ;" but he had no patience with the grasping ambition an1 greed of individuals, which prompted them to buy up borough after borough, and to render themselves thereby all powerful in the legislature. They are blind," he used to say, "to their interests, which cannot be separated from those of the state. They do not see that they are perverting to the worst purposes an institution which ought tɔ have been rendered subservient to the best. Instead of having these boroughs so distributed that men of all shades of political opinion, and representing all the great interests of the empire, may, if they possess but talent and character, find their way through them into the house of commons, they go into the market, and purchase up one after another, with no other view than to provide for their own dependants, and promote their own objects. Over and over again it has been pressed upon me to become the proprietor of a borough; but I would have nothing to say to the proposal-I would not dirty my fingers with so vile a job.”† It is a wonder that so honest a mind as his did not see that a system which, so long as men were ambitious and covetous, would lead to the perpetration of such vile jobs, could not be an essential part of any sound constitution. The duke had little to console him in connection with the general elections. In passing the Emancipation Act he had made great sacrifices, and had converted many of his most devoted friends into bitter enemies. The least that he could expect was, that the great boon which it cost him so much to procure for the Roman catholics of Ireland would "Annual Register," p. 147. + Gleig's "Life of Wellington." p. 470. have brought him some return of gratitude, and some amount of political support in that country. But hitherto the Emancipation Act had failed in tranquillising the country. On the contrary, its distracted state pointed the arguments of the tories on the hustings during the Irish elections. O'Connell, instead of returning to the quiet pursuit of his profession, was agitating for repeal of the union, and reviling the British government as bitterly as ever. He got up new associations with different names, as fast as the lord-lieutenant could proclaim them down; and he appealed to the example of the French and Belgian revolutions as encouraging Ireland to agitate for national independence. In consequence of his agitation, many ministerial seats in Ireland were transferred to the most violent of his followers. During these conflicts with the government, Mr. O'Connell was challenged by Sir Henry Hardinge, in consequence of offensive language used by him about that gentleman, who was then chief secretary for Ireland. Mr. O'Connell declined the combat, on the ground that he had a "vow registered in heaven" never again to fight a duel, in consequence of his having shot Mr. D'Esterre. This affair of honour drew upon him from some quarters very severe censure. On the 15th of September this year the Manchester and Liverpool railway was opened. The ceremony excited great interest, and it would have excited much more if the public of that day could have anticipated the vast expansion during the last forty years of the system of locomotion of which it may be said to have been the inauguration. It was the first line ever opened for travelling in the British empire. There was much difference of opinion as to the success of the experiment, and vast crowds attended to see the first trains running. The duke of Wellington, Mr. | Huskisson, and many persons of the highest distinction, started in the trains, which travelled on two lines in the same direction, sometimes nearly abreast. At Parkside the trains stopped to take in water, and Mr. Huskisson and several of his friends got out. He was brought round to the carriage where the duke of Wellington was seated, who, as soon as he saw him, shook hands cordially with his old colleague. At this moment the other train started, when there was a general cry of "Get in, get in!" There was not time to do this, but Mr. Holmes, who was with Mr. Huskisson, had sufficient presence of mind to draw himself up close to the duke's carriage, by which means he escaped uninjured. Mr. Huskisson, unfortunately, caught one of the doors, which, struck by the train in motion, was swung round, and caused him to fall on the other railway, so that his right leg was passed over and crushed by the engine. The duke of Wellington and others ran to his assistance. The only words he uttered were, I have met my death. God forgive me!" He was carried to Eccles, where the best medical advice was obtained, but he survived only a few hours, bearing his intense pain with great fortitude. He received the sacrament with Mrs. Huskisson, and his last words were, "The country has had the best of me, I trust it will do justice to my public character. I regret not the few years that might have remained to me, except for those dear ones," he added, grasping Mrs. Huskisson's hand, "whom I leave behind me." He expired a few minutes after. On the 24th he 165 was interred in the new cemetery in Liverpool, having received the honour of a public funeral, which was attended by an immense concourse of spectators, many of whom were in tears for the tragic end of this eminent statesman, thus cut off so suddenly, on an occasion so joyous, and in connection with an undertaking in which he felt so deep an interest.* The duke of Wellington seems to have been overwhelmed with grief at this catastrophe. "He described it on his return to Walmer as one of the saddest events which, in the course of a career not strange to heartrending incidents, he had ever witnessed. Indeed, there is some reason to believe that the memories associated with this his first essay were not without their effect in strengthening, if they did not create, that disinclination to railway travelling which adhered to him ever after. Be this as it may, the fact remains that, in spite of the success which attended the Liverpool and Manchester line, the duke never could be persuaded directly or indirectly to countenance the extension of the system in other quarters. When it was proposed, not long afterwards, to connect Southampton with London by rail, he gave to the project all the opposition in his power; and, more characteristic still, he continued in all his journeys to travel post, till the impossibility of finding horses along the deserted high roads of Kent and Hampshire compelled him to abandon the practice.”† Mr. Huskisson had spent an active life in the public service. In 1783, when fourteen years of age, he went to Paris, at the request of his uncle, Dr. Green, then physician to the English embassy. He was present at the taking of the Bastile, and was enthusiastic in the cause of the French revolution. When the British ambassador was recalled, he returned to England in 1792, and got the charge of an office created for investigating the claims of French emigrants. In 1796 he was brought into parliament as member for Morpeth. He was secretary to the treasury under Mr. Pitt's administration in 1802. He successively represented Liskeard, Harwich, and Chichester; and from 1823 till his death he was one of the members for Liverpool. In 1814 he was appointed chief commissioner of woods and forests, and in 1823 he became president of the board of trade and treasurer of the navy. He held the office of colonial secretary, and retained it when lord Goderich became the head of a new ministry. He seems to have been very fond of official life, and to have felt greatly disappointed and mortified when the duke of Wellington accepted his resignation in May, 1829. He excited the hostility of the protectionists by his efforts to relax the restrictions on commerce, though he was far from going the whole length of free trade. He seldom spoke in parliament, except on commercial subjects. On retiring from office, in 1828, he received one of six pensions of £3,000 a-year each, which the crown had been empowered to grant for long public services, having been nominated by lord Liverpool before his political demise. He was for many years agent for Ceylon, the salary for which was increased from £800 to £1,200 a-year. A handsome monument, with a statue by Gibson, was erected to his memory by his constituents in Huskisson's Life, vol. 1., pp. 284-240. Gleig's "Life of Wellington," p. 475. |