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refusal to give me up, and an offer of personal satisfaction to the American in command. Still, not only to have destroyed for ever the prestige of French honour, with all its securities, but to have falsely pledged the escutcheon of his own family, never before soiled, was a thought which enraged him against himself, against others, almost beyond control. It was useless to reason with my friend; it was perfectly hopeless to attempt consoling him; in truth, during the quiet of our voyage, a kind of insanity seemed to possess him, the only lucid intervals in which were our conversations on subjects as remote as possible from that. I think he secretly abhorred the manners of the colonials, like the American alliance, and saw a degree of retribution in the terrible defeat by Lord Rodney. I myself have reason to recollect America with mingled feelings of horror and satisfaction" he glanced for a moment towards his wife, whose placid features betrayed no consciousness of the allusion to her first conjugal letters-" so that, my dear Thorpe, you may easily believe I could not help sympathising with him!"

"But surely, Sir Godfrey," continued the graduate, with very logical insensibility, "you must be of opinion that this country, inclined, as it now seems, to copy England, will be"

"Like the Count de Charlemont and his friends, I should think, with their English riding-coats and bulldogs!" involuntarily broke in Charles Willoughby, with a laugh: he had been listening very intently; but the laugh ceased at his father's sudden look.

LXXVI.-NO. CCCCLXVII.

"Do not interrupt Mr Thorpe, boy!" said the latter, rather sternly; then relaxing next minute at the abashed and flushed look, which made him feel as if his tone had been too harsh-"what do you mean-what Count-what did you say y?"

"The mayor I had to visit this evening, you know, sir," replied Charles, "the Comte de Charlemont, I mean-Charlemont is the village we got mobbed in."

"De Charlemont?" repeated his father slowly, looking at him, "de Charlemont? You mistake, my boyor is this some silly presumption of yours? That name I thought I had not allowed to slip from me. I never have permitted myself to mention it. Pronounce the name again."

Charles did so distinctly and firmly. "That is curious," said his father, rising from his seat. "Were you listening to what I told Mr Thorpe just now, Charles ?"

"Yes, sir," said the boy, frankly. "And I think I uttered no such name?" added the baronet.

"No," said his son with gravity, "there was no name mentioned, except the Count de Grasse and Lord Rodney-I particularly noticed."

"Ah-well," was the only additional remark, as his father turned to the old stove-filled hearth-place, and leaning his arms above, stood plunged in thought; Mr Thorpe calmly reasoning on, till it was past time for prayers to be read, and for retirement. "I shall call on the Comte de Charlemont," said Sir Godfrey, the last thing, to Lady Willoughby.

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2 A

THE SPANISH REVOLUTION.

DEAR EBONY,-My last letter was dated immediately after the first circulation in Madrid of a document, which had a most important effect on the fate of the military insurrection, that soon grew into a popular revolution. You will remember that after the action of Vicálvaro, on the 30th June, the insurgent generals drew their forces southwards, still lingering, however, within a few leagues of Madrid, as if in hopes that the capital would make a demonstration in their favour. But Madrid remained tranquil-almost indifferent; and every post brought accounts of similar apathy in large provincial towns, on whose rising in arms O'Donnell and his friends had doubtless reckoned. A few small bodies of troops and some armed civilians repaired to the insurgent banner; there were trifling disturbances in the Huerta of Valencia; a daring partisan, one Buceta, surprised the slenderly garrisoned but strongly situated town of Cuenca. But these incidents were unimportant; without co-operation on a far larger scale, it was evident the insurrection was a failure, and that O'Donnell and his little army, isolated in the midst of a population which seemed to have lost all spirit (even that of revolt), must soon either make for the frontier, or risk an action with the greatly superior forces concentrating to oppose them. But O'Donnell had a card in reserve, which he was perhaps unwilling to play, but yet was resolved to risk before abandoning the game as lost. In a proclamation, dated from Manzanares, a town nearly half-way on the road from Madrid to Granada, and whither a division under General Blaser was proceeding, although slowly, to operate against him, he issued a declaration in favour of the National Guard, of provincial juntas, and of the assemblage of the Cortes, in which the nation, through its representatives, should fix the basis of its future government. The effect of this profession of faith was soon seen. So long as the generals had limited themselves to invectives against Sartorius

Madrid, 14th August 1854. and his colleagues, and against the system of corruption and immorality they had fostered into a monstrous development, the nation had remained inactive, because it saw no assurance of gain in a mere change of men, and because no prospect was held out to it of a complete change of system. But when O'Donnell spoke out, and threw himself frankly into the arms of the popular cause, he had not long to wait for backers. On the 15th, 16th, and 17th July, Valencia, Valladolid, Barcelona, Zamora, and, most important of all, Saragossa, declared against the government, and the fall of the ministry was inevitable. On the morning of the 17th, Madrid received the double intelligence of some of these pronunciamientos, and that the Sartorius cabinet was out. It was understood that General Cordova, a statesman without talent, and a general without resolution, was to head the new ministry, to which end he had long been intriguing, currying favour with the King-consort, and with a less legitimate influence at court. There was to be a bull-fight on the afternoon of Monday the 17th July-the first fight that had been permitted since O'Donnell's insurrection; and it became known in the morning that Cordova and his friends intended getting up a small emeute or demonstration, when, between seven and eight o'clock, the streets should be thronged with the ten or twelve thousand spectators issuing forth from the bull-ring. The intention of this was doubtless twofold-to let off a little of the popular steam, and to give an air of popularity to the incoming ministry. But Cordova and his advisers had not sufficiently felt the pulse of the people, or duly estimated the possible results of so imprudent a manifestation. It was like exploding fireworks in a powdermagazine; and the moment selected made the trick still more hazardous. On the sultry evening of a burning July day, when several thousand men of the middle and lower classes should just have quitted the spectacle which

The Spanish Revolution. excites them to the utmost, and habituates them to bloodshed, to raise, in the streets of Madrid, even the simulacre of a riotous banner, and that at a time when the people were galled by a long period of oppression and misrule, and when an insurrectionary army was in the field, was surely an act of as self-destructive madness as ever a doomed and blinded man was afflicted with. Early in the day, one or two leaders of the liberal party in Madrid had spoken to me of the proposed demonstration, and had intimated their intention of being on the watch to improve it, should circumstances turn favourably for their views. Evening came, and the bullfight took place; after it, as usual, the streets were crowded, especially the Puerta del Sol and adjacent thoroughfares. It was about eight o'clock when the first symptoms of disturbance were apparent. groups were formed in the streets, Numerous and parties of men marched through them at a rapid pace, shouting vivas for liberty, and down with the ministry. The resignation of the ministry, I must observe, had not yet been officially published, but it was well known to have been accepted, and that, as far as the cabinet went, Spain was in an interregnum. This was the moment chosen by General Cordova for the farce which was to prove a tragedy. I was reminded, as I watched the proceedings of the night, of the Italian robber story, in which a party of practical jokers, and very mauvais plaisants, having gone out with corked faces and leadless pistols to frighten some friends abroad on a pic-nic, suddenly find amongst them the chocolate visages, fierce whiskers, and blunderbusses charged to the muzzle of the genuine brigand and his band, and heartily deplore the sorry plight in which their folly has put them. So it was in Madrid on the 17th July.

The armed police, up to that evening so numerous that nowhere could you walk ten yards without encountering them, were withdrawn from the streets; the soldiers were all in their quarters-the very sentries had disappeared the main guard, which mounts at a large solid building on the Puerta del Sol, used by the minis

357

try of the interior, but best known as
closed the strong gates of the edifice,
the Principal (chief guard-house), had
and gazed listlessly through the win-
dows at the movements of the mob.
Every precaution was taken to avoid
collisions between the authorities and
the harmless rioters who were to
carry out Cordova's plan. But its
execution had scarcely begun when
the mockery was turned into earnest-
explain, except by the confusion con-
so much so, that I am still at a loss to
sequent on a change, and the real
absence for some hours of all gov-
opposition to the insurgents.
ernment in Madrid, the want of any
first, however, the disturbance was a
At
mere riot, although it soon grew into
that roamed the streets, with shouts,
a political revolt. The bands of men
sticks, and a few with arms, presently
began to seek modes of actively em-
hour (between ten and eleven o'clock)
ploying themselves. Long before the
at which, as I afterwards ascertained,
the Progresista chiefs in Madrid had
decided on an outbreak, the people
were busily at work.
o'clock they repaired to two public
Before nine
offices where they knew there were
arms-the house of the political gov-
ernor and the town-hall-and, with-
guards they found there, got posses-
out opposition from the municipal
sion of between seven hundred and
eight hundred muskets. These were
regularly served out to the people by
soon, on the Puerta del Sol, an im-
the leaders of the movement; and
besieged the doors of the Principal.
mense crowd, in great part armed,
The soldiers within had their orders
did not think proper to admit them
not to oppose the people, but they
into their guard-house. Hard by was
an enclosure of planks, placed round
the Puerta del Sol (a flagrant job of
some of the demolitions going on in
Señor Sartorius), and there were also
beams from the falling houses. Planks
piled against the doors of the Princi-
and beams were seized by the mob,
parched by the summer sun of Madrid,
pal, and set on fire. The dry wood,
burned like straw. There was dan-
ger of the whole building being con-
sumed. The military evacuated it,
would have saved a great deal of
and the mob took possession.

It

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fighting, and not a few lives, if they had kept it when they once held it; but, as I have already shown, there was a want of organisation at this early period of the night, and no definite intention, on the part of the masses, of accomplishing a revolution. Even up to eleven or twelve o'clock that night, many persons not inexperienced in such movements thought that the disturbance was a mere popular effervescence-the expression of the joy and relief felt by the people at being rid of their tyrants -and by no means anticipated the serious events that were to grow out of it. The Principal was abandoned by the people, and again occupied by troops. Meanwhile, at other points, the mob was actively mischievous, or, I should perhaps rather say, it actively employed itself in revenging its wrongs on the authors of much of its misery. Below a window, in one of the most frequented and central thoroughfares of Madrid, which I occupied at intervals during the great part of that evening, the passage of strong bodies of the people continued. A great many weapons were now to be seen amongst them-muskets, fowling-pieces, blunderbusses, antiquated firearms of all kinds. At the same time the great majority were unarmed; but their blood was up, their will was strong, and their hands were ready for anything. That night was so full of events that few thought of looking at watches, and I cannot therefore give you the hour at which incidents occurred, or set them down in the exact order of their occurrence, especially as I often changed my place between the hours of eight and two, making excursions into different parts of the town, but frequently returning to the window before mentioned, which, as headquarters and central post of observation, was an excellent position. One of the first acts of violence committed was an attack on the house of Don Luis Sartorius, Conde de San Luis, a man whose name will ever be pre-eminently infamous in the annals of political crime. On their way to his house the people got a ladder, set it against the front of the Principe theatre, which had been endowed when he was in office, and broke to pieces a stone

over the entrance on which his name was carved. On reaching his residence they turned his furniture, pictures, and valuable library into the street, and made a bonfire of them. I know of literary amateurs who, on hearing of this, hurried to the spot, hoping to rescue some of the rare and curious books he was known to possess but their efforts were in vain ; the people would allow nothing to be taken away, everything was for the flames. At first the second floor of the house was respected, but presently it was known that it had lately become the residence of Esteban Collantes, the minister of public works, who had sent in, it is said, only a few days before, twelve thousand dollars' worth of furniture. After Sartorius, Collantes, Domenech minister of finance, and Quinto the civil governor, were the three men in Madrid most detested by the people. Collantes was the gamin, the mischievous scapegrace, of the San Luis cabinet, devoid alike of dignity, morality, and common decency. The discovery that he abode above his chief colleague was a godsend to the enraged mob, and his chattels quickly shared the fate of those of Sartorius. Similar destruction proceeded at the houses of the renegade liberal Domenech, of the Marquis de Molins, minister of marine of Count Vistahermosa, who had commanded under General Blaser at the action of Vicálvaro, and who was then following up with a division O'Donnell's retiring forces; and at those of the well-known capitalist, Salamanca, and of Count Quinto, the alcalde-corregidor, and governor of Madrid. At these two last houses, especially, great destruction of property took place. Rich furniture, pictures of high value, plate, costly ornaments, jewels (especially at Salamanca's), to the amount of many thousands of pounds, valuable papers, government securities, and even, it is said, bank notes and coin, were destroyed by fire. There is reason to believe, however, that some of the more portable of these things, particularly the jewels, were stolen-not, as I believe, by the people, who, throughout the whole revolution, set an example of honesty and disinterestedness-but by the professional thieves, who are always on the look-out

A

upon such occasions, and by servants in some of the houses attacked, who, knowing where their masters kept their most precious effects, had great facilities for purloining them. friend of Salamanca's went to his house to rescue some valuable papers, and also, if possible, some jewels of great price, which were in an iron chest under a bed. Amongst these jewels was a diamond of remarkable beauty, whose history is rather curious. It had been given, set in a ring, by Count Montemolin, to an attached and faithful follower of his and his father's fortunes. This gentleman afterwards desired to dispose of the stone, retaining the ring as a memorial, and addressed himself, with this object, to a well-known London jeweller. The jeweller advised him to retain the gem, for that, being of a most unusual size, he should have difficulty, if he bought it, in selling it again-should, perhaps, have to cut it down, &c. &c., and ending by naming a sum, which he acknowledged to be less than its value, as the most he could afford to give for it. The offer was accepted. Señor Salamanca afterwards paid £3000 for it. This ring, with other valuable jewellery and a number of unset stones -worth altogether many thousand pounds were in the iron chest. Salamanca's friend reached the house, secured the papers, and went to the chest. It was open and empty.

Meanwhile the people continued in motion in almost every part of the town. It was by no means the rabble that were abroad and stirring; many persons of the better classes were active in promoting the tumult. In the streets the leaders could be heard consulting together, and planning whither they should proceed. One party went to the Saladero prison to release the political captives detained there; another strong band, including general officers and persons of note and rank, repaired to the townhall, appointed a committee, and drew up a representation to the Queen, which was delivered to her by a deputation. She promised to give it favourable consideration. Before this time there had been movements of troops in the town, but no hostilities. To wards two in the morning, however, a decided change took place in the

aspect of affairs, and firing commenced at two points. After the deputation had returned from the palace, and reported the result of its mission (amongst other things, the Queen had expressed her earnest desire that there should be no effusion of blood), the committee, which was soon to be a junta, exhorted the crowd assembled in the square of the town-hall to return home and await the result of what had been done. They were disposed to do this, when in the Calle Mayor several companies of infantry opened fire upon them. This roused their indignation and anger, and thenceforward a struggle was inevitable. About the same time as those volleys were fired there was an affray around the princely mansion, or as it is usually called the palace, of Queen Christina. There, too, the people had assembled (throughout the night, "Death to Christina !" had been one of the most frequently repeated cries), had stoned and smashed the windows, forced their way into the house, thrown out furniture and valuables, and lit an immense bonfire with them

finally setting fire to the house itself. The scene presented by the triangular plaza in front of the dowager-queen's residence was striking enough. The wild figures and furious activity of the insurgentsamongst whom were not a few women inciting the men to mischief-contrasted with the passive attitude of a small body of infantry, which tranquilly looked on at the proceedings of the mob. At last, when a considerable portion of the furniture of the right wing was blazing in the plaza, making it as light as day, and illuminating the half-curious, half-frightened physiognomies that peered from the windows of the neighbouring houses, the handful of troops were reinforced by two companies, which at once fired on the people. Two or three volleys cleared the plaza; a tolerable number of persons were killed and wounded. There was firing at about the same time in other parts of the town-in the Calle Mayor, as already mentioned-and skirmishing between the troops and people, the latter of whom had begun to assume the offensive; and from that moment it was pretty evident that a sharp conflict

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