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was at hand. But it was not yet fairly engaged in, owing to the absence of orders for the military, and of leaders and organisation for the mob. A new and most unsatisfactory ministry, with General Cordova and the Duke of Rivas at its head, had been appointed, but could not be said to have as yet assumed command. And there was also mistrust as to the extent to which the troops might be depended upon to act against the people. On the other hand, the movement had commenced so suddenly, and so many incidents had filled the few hours that had since elapsed, that nothing like method had as yet been introduced into the proceedings of the insurgents. On the 18th there was a good deal of desultory fighting, and in several places severe conflicts took place; but few barricades were thrown up, and the skirmishing was chiefly from street corners, and from the doors of houses. It was easy to see that the inhabitants of Madrid sympathised with the revolution, and wished well to the insurgents. In many places, when these were hard pressed, and compelled to run, doors were seen suddenly to open to receive them, and again were quickly closed. The insurgents were as yet but imperfectly armed. You might see groups of half a dozen standing at the corner of a cross street, with perhaps two muskets or fowling-pieces amongst them, the others having sticks and swords-the latter often strange old-fashioned weapons, that looked as if they had belonged to the middle ages, and picked out of a curiosity-shop. These gentry would protrude their heads into the main thoroughfare, and watch the favourable moment for a shot at some military post or passing picket. If the shot drew pursuit upon them, they were off into the doors of neighbouring houses, like rabbits into their burrows, or else away through a labyrinth of lanes to harass some other point. A glance at a map of Madrid, if you chance to have one at hand, will show you how well adapted this most irregularly built capital is to the operations of a body of insurgents perfectly acquainted with its intricacies. The uneven surface the town being built on a collection of small hills the narrow crooked streets, jumbled together without any

sort of order or system-the numer ous small squares or open places, in passing over which troops are liable to find themselves under a cross fire from half a dozen different cornersthe whole configuration of Madrid, in short, greatly favours its inhabitants when they choose to rise in arms against the garrison. Amongst the most remarkable events of the 18th was the desperate fight maintained by the people against a body of gendarmes, who, all old soldiers, defended themselves with signal valour, but were finally overcome, some of them killed, and the rest disarmed. These gendarmes, or civil guards, as they are here called, were in some sort the Swiss guards of the Madrid July revolution-equally firm in duty and discipline, and almost equally odious to the people, whom they punished pretty severely, and who did not always give them quarter, when vast superiority of numbers at last gave them the advantage which they certainly would not have had in more equal conditions of force. One of the most dashing things done by the insurgents on the 18th was clearing the Plaza del Progreso (one of the larger squares in the heart of the town) with the bayonet, after firing had for some time gone


The soldiers were fairly driven out by the civilians, and the square and adjoining streets were quickly converted into a fortress, into which there was little probability of the military again penetrating. On the afternoon of the same day a number of lives were uselessly sacrificed, owing to the recklessness and vindictive spirit of a retired officer, a friend of Cordova's. This person, although no longer in the army, obtained command of a couple of guns, some infantry, and a few dragoons, and, proceeding to the Calle Atocha, one of the principal streets of Madrid, opened a heavy fire of artillery and musketry, firing round shot into the houses, and grape down the street. He did a great deal of damage-some of it to private houses in which no insurgents were or had ever beenkilled a few persons, most of them persons who had nothing in the world to do with the insurrection, but who were sitting, inoffensive and terrified,

in their houses-lost thirty or forty of his own men, and finally cleared a few hundred yards of street. But this was small gain to the cause he defended, for the insurgents he drove away merely changed their place, and when he departed they returned to contemplate the ravages he had committed in the dwellings of peaceable citizens, and to go forth upon the morrow more embittered than ever to the fight.

It was the 19th, however, that was by far the most important and interesting day of the revolution. The aspect of the night that preceded it was very singular. The day had been hot and bright, as usual in Madrid at this season, and from early in the morning until half-past eight at night the firing had been incessant and frequently very sharp in one or other part of the town. When night fell, the noise and glare were suddenly succeeded by profound silence and darkness. There was no moon; except in a very few streets not a lamp was lit, and the inhabitants received hints to show no lights in their windows. The streets, which during the latter part of the afternoon had been little frequented, owing to the numerous shots that were flying (the soldiers, in some places, firing on every civilian they got sight of), were now almost deserted. There was something very strange and alarming in the complete stillness and gloom prevailing in this densely peopled capital, which in ordinary times is all bustle and blaze until midnight or later. Looking from a first-floor window, nothing was to be seen, except now and then a dark figure gliding stealthily along or darting across the street; but, on venturing out, you soon saw that the people were neither idle nor off their guard. They were in groups behind their barricades-which began to be numerous, although few of them were as yet of a formidable aspect. Meanwhile the revolutionary junta was sitting at the house of Sevillano the banker, a wealthy man, of liberal politics, who had been an object of suspicion and persecution to the Sartorius government. A depot of arms was ordered to be formed there, a well-organised system of defence was

decided upon, the barricades were ordered to be strengthened and new ones to be made. Within two or three hours after daybreak on the 19th, there were hundreds of barricades in Madrid, many of them of great height and strength. The town presented a most singular spectacle. The whole of its central portion, with the exception of the Principal, which was garrisoned and stoutly defended by a few companies of grenadiers, was soon in the hands of the insurgents. These displayed astonishing activity and readiness of resource. Everything was converted into means of offence or defence. Those of the inhabitants who took no part in the fray, yet did all they could to assist those who did. The enthusiasm was general. In the street in which I that morning found myself, there were several barricades. Most of these were commenced after five o'clock. As soon as the neighbours saw two or three men at work, raising the pavement with picks and crowbars, they hastened to supply them with materials, running out of their houses with empty boxes, dilapidated furniture, and old matting. When mattresses were asked they were freely given, and many hundreds of them were used in the barricades. A patriotie carpenter, nearly opposite to where I was stationed, who usually occupies his time in making coffins for the dead and trunks for the living, brought out of his yard some heavy boards, of great length, which extended completely across the street, and formed an excellent skeleton for a barricade. Before eight in the morning, the firing had begun on all points, and the bullets were singing through the streets in every direction. Besides defending their positions and attacking those of the military and civil guards-who had taken possession of houses here and there in the districts occupied by the people, and held them with great tenacity-the insurgents busied themselves in various other ways, completing and strengthening the barricades, collecting arms, making cartridges, preparing the houses for defence in case the soldiers forced their foremost defences. Quantities of paving-stones were taken up to the roofs and higher floors of

the houses, to throw down upon the enemy. Women and children assisted in this labour. It was curious to observe the women. Notwithstanding danger from bullets, they were all at their doors and windows. Some of them-these were the younger ones— seemed to think it great fun; some of the older ones looked ghastly and terrified enough; whilst others, chiefly of quite the lower orders, were fierce partisans as much so as their husbands and brothers, who in perfect silence, but with deadly resolution, were loading and firing from barricade, window, and house-top. I heard one sturdy dame, crimson with exertion and excitement, who bore in her brawny arms a basket of supplies to a barricade then under fire, express her determination, should the troops get into the street, to shower upon their devoted heads the whole of her kettles and crockery. When a thrifty housewife comes to such extremes as this, it is evident her blood is up. But the forced loan imposed by Sartorius had come home to the pockets of the lower classes of tax-payers, and had greatly exasperated the women.

I profess to send you mere sketches of the revolution-not its history, which the newspapers have already in great measure supplied-and therefore I do not consider myself bound to trace all its events, but limit myself chiefly to what I saw. An artist who should have perambulated Madrid during the 19th and 20th July would have found abundant and striking subjects for his pencil. Feverish activity was the characteristic of the first day, armed and vigilant repose of the second. Repose from fighting, but not from toil, for, although there was a cessation of hostilities-the Principal having surrendered (not, however, until the afternoon of the 20th, when its garrison was literally starved out), the whole town, with the exception of a few barracks and buildings at its extremities, being in the possession of the insurgents, and the Queen having sent for Espartero, which was all that Madrid asked-the insurgents were still mistrustful, and in no way relaxed their watchfulness. The medley of arms amongst them-particularly on the 19th, for on the 20th they were better supplied with muskets—

was curious to observe. Many had scabbardless swords, which they used as walking-sticks, thereby greatly improving the point; others had pistols, some of tremendous length and most antiquated construction. There were not a few trabucos to be seen. These are tremendous blunderbusses, wide at the mouth, which scatter a handful of postas (large slugs), or carry a ball full four times the size of a musketball. Here is a man with a curved scimitar, which must have been handed down to him from some Moorish ancestor, bound to his waist by a bit of old sash; yonder, on a door-step, out of the exact range of fire, but the bullets striking from time to time the balcony above her head, sits a woman playing with a dagger, which she looks quite capable of using. I write only what I myself observed. On the morning of the 20th I walked round many of the barricades when their defenders were breakfasting. One group had got a guitar for a table. It rested on the knees of a circle, and supported their bread and sausage. There was great sobriety; during the whole of the revolution I saw no case of drunkenness.

I leave you to imagine the alarm and confusion at the palace during all this time. The poor, feeble, helpless Queen was distracted by many counsellors. Her evil genius, the Duchess of Rianzares, was at her elbow, urging her to resist to the utmost; for Maria Christina well knew that, if her daughter yielded to the revolution, she herself would have to quit Spain or do penance. She neglected to do the first until it was too late, and must now submit to the second. Then, however, aided by such bad advisers as Roncali, Cordova, Gandara, she excited the Queen to resist and fight, or, if necessary, to fly from Madrid and plant the royal standard elsewhere. There were about 3000 soldiers in and near the palace, in the Retiro gardens, and in two or three barracks-every day the palace cooks provided dinner for 3500 mouths; these troops, which included a powerful artillery, were to form the nucleus of a force speedily to be assembled, and which was to crush the revolution. A civil war might in this way have been

brought about, but the universal spirit of opposition to the Queen, and of indifference-if not dislike-to the dynasty, that the Spaniards have since shown, sufficiently proves that it would not have been of long duration; and its end would inevitably have been the ejection of Isabella II. from her dominions. It was written, however, that the misguided Sovereign should have another chance of retaining the crown to which she has done so little honour. If there were some persons at court who desired to see her leave Madrid for a fortified place or for any place where she would not be exposed to the pressure of that revolution which they dreaded -there were others who dissuaded her from departure, and even resolutely opposed and forbade it. The ladies of honour, the officers of the halbardiers-that corps which in 1841, under the command of General (then Colonel) Dulce, so stoutly and successfully resisted an attack upon the palace protested that the Queen should not leave; and one of the former went so far as to seek an interview with a well-known liberal and promoter of the revolution, and to inform him of what was planning. The Marquis of Turgot, the French ambassador, being consulted, advised the Queen by all means to remain where she was. Even the Queen's husband, poor, feeble, ill-treated Don Francisco de Assis, showed spirit in the cause of prudence, and vehemently protested against her removal from Madrid. Then came from Saragossa, the eastern stronghold of Spanish liberalism-not Espartero, as was expected, but a messenger, bearing the conditions on which the man of the day, whom all demanded and desired, would come to Madrid. The exact contents of these conditions have not transpired, but, from what has since passed, we may presume that they were tantamount to giving Espartero almost unlimited power, and that, by accepting them, the Queen bound herself to be guided in every respect by him and the cabinet he should form. Few hours were passed in deliberating whether or no they should be accepted, but those were hours of storm and strife within the palace. The wicked, finding their

projects ruined and their power gone, fell out amongst themselves. There are strange stories of what then occurred, especially between the Queen, her husband, and her mother; of high words and bitter recrimination, and even of blows struck and swords drawn. The exact truth is difficult to ascertain, for scandal, very rife in Madrid, has distorted it into various forms; but I believe there is no doubt that Christina, furious at seeing her daughter about to accept conditions most unpalatable to herself, suffered her Italian blood to move her to unbecoming violence. On the other hand the King, reflecting how much of the unpopularity and difficulty that now overwhelmed his wife was due to the boundless cupidity and unscrupulous manœuvres of the Duchess of Rianzares and her husband, is said to have vented his indignation on the latter, and even to have drawn a sword upon him.

The ten days that elapsed between the summons sent to Espartero and his arrival at Madrid, were days of much anxiety, and even of serious apprehension. The junta governed, but its authority was not strong, and there was danger of excesses by the democratic and turbulent population of the low quarters of Madrid. The greatest danger was of an attack on Queen Christina's house. For two or three days this was seriously talked of. The people were bent upon burning it. To do this would have been to entail the destruction of a street that runs at the back of the dowager's palace, and one side of which forms part of the same block; probably, also, the destruction of the British Embassy, which is separated from it but by an interval of a few feet. Fortunately, things occurred to distract the attention of the people, and no attempt was made to carry out the imprudent design. The only acts of violence that had to be deplored were the shooting of three or four obnoxious persons belonging to the secret police. One of these was the infamous Francisco Chico, the chief of that institution, who certainly richly deserved the fate he met, for he had committed many and heinous crimes. A strict watch was kept for the ex-ministers, and had they been caught, in those

first moments of excitement and fury, when the people were still hot from the fight, they assuredly would have been killed.

To keep the people employed, the temporary authorities rather encouraged the building and strengthening of barricades. The Spanish nation has been so often cheated out of the results of its insurrections, and has so repeatedly beheld a half-effected revolution converted into a reaction, that it was determined this time to guard against such delusions and disappointments. Such, at least, was the case in Madrid. Under a broiling sun, they toiled as if life and death depended on their exertions. Most of the barricades, at first constructed of very heterogeneous materials, and without much regard to symmetry, were taken down, and rebuilt of paving-stones and earth. The operation was a great nuisance. The town was continually in a cloud of dust; passage through the streets, obstructed by these temporary fortifications, was extremely slow; at night one risked breaking his legs by tumbling into holes, or his shins by stumbling over huge blocks of stone and other building materials. The result of all this labour and inconvenience was, that, by the 25th of July, Madrid contained upwards of two hundred and eighty barricades of the first magnitude, each one of which was the centre of (on an average) eight or ten smaller redoubts and defences. Besides stones, of which the principal parapets were chiefly composed, the materials used were bricks, tiles, bags of sand, beams, mortar, diligences, private carriages, carts, and furniture. On the first days of the revolution, it was curious to observe how, in the haste and enthusiasm of the moment, good and even handsome furniture was taken out into the street by its owners to be knocked to pieces in the barricades. Flags and streamers adorned them all, and at nearly every one, raised upon altars covered with coloured cloths, were portraits of Espartero horrible caricatures, many of them, but nevertheless the objects almost of adoration on the part of the people. After nightfall there were lights placed round these portraits, which in some

instances were accompanied by others of O'Donnell, Dulce, and latterly (but only in a few cases) of the Queen, and music of every kind, from excellent bands down to a single cracked guitar, played behind the barricades, in front of which the people assembled in crowds. The revolution, serious enough at first, had now become a sort of festival. The people were too unsettled to return to their customary occupations; business of all kinds was suspended; the streets were continually crowded with men of the lower orders, armed, idle, but very wellconducted; whilst the better classes, to whom, now that the preliminary object of the revolution (the placing of Espartero at the head of affairs) was gained, the whole thing was an intolerable nuisance, longed for the arrival of the man whose presence alone would content the multitude, and restore Madrid to its normal condition.

At last he came, and certainly his reception was a triumph. The road was lined with people for miles without the town. The military and civil authorities went out to meet him as far as the Venta of the Holy Ghost, half a league from Madrid. The garrison was formed up on the right hand outside the Alcala gate, and the National Guard on the left. His approach was announced by a general peal of all the church bells of Madrid. There were triumphal arches, and every balcony in the town was draped with coloured hangings. But the glorious part of the ovation was the unmistakable and irrepressible joy of the people, and their demonstrations of affection. The whole population of Madrid was either outside the town or in the streets. Women of all classes abounded in the crowd, and were vebement in the welcome they gave to the popular hero. His carriage could hardly proceed for the people that thronged around it, eager to touch his hand or even the skirt of his garment. This continued the whole of the way to the palace, which is at the opposite extremity of the town to that at which he entered, and all the way back to Espartero's temporary residence near the Puerta del Sol. The Duke de la Victoria is far too warm-hearted a man not to be

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