Orders soon came from the Government for the liberation of the prisoners. After some consultation with their friends, it was resolved that there should be a public procession from the prison in the morning. Mr. O'Connell, however, left that evening, and proceeded on foot to his house in Merrion Square. Before he had reached the square, the tidings spread abroad that he was out, and crowds rapidly assembled from all directions. The people leaped and danced about him, while their acclamations rent the air. When he placed his foot upon the step to ascend to his own door, the exulting shouts of some 10,000 or 15,000 people were almost deafening. Appearing on the balcony of his house, where he had often stood before, to address his followers, they could scarcely be got to keep silence while he spoke. The procession next day was, in point of magnitude, quite in keeping with the other "monster" proceedings. Twelve o'clock was the time appointed to start from the prison, and at that hour the first part of the procession arrived. Its length may be inferred from the fact that it was not until two o'clock that the triumphal car reached the prison gate. During those two hours thousands upon thousands defiled before it in one unbroken line of men, perfect order being kept, without the aid of a single policeman, and the marching mass being broken into sections only by the bands of music, preceding the flags or carriages of the different trades, which numbered about thirty. The bands were all dressed in fancy uniforms, bearing bright coloursblue, pink, and greenwith banners of the most gorgeous description. There was such a demand for carriages and vehicles of all sorts, that Dublin alone could not meet it, and carriages were obtained from Bray, and various other places around the metropolis. The procession was composed of Repeal wardens, members of the Repeal Association, the Lord Mayor, aldermen, and town council, personal friends and political admirers of O'Connell.Catherine of Russia, thus rid of the only two monarchs who were likely to trouble her with scruples, hastened her grand design of absorbing Poland. She professed to be much scandalised and alarmed at the proceedings of the king, who had attended a dinner given by the municipality of Warsaw on the anniversary of the passing of their new Constitution, at which he had not only responded to the toast of his health by drinking to the nation and the municipality, thus sanctioning them as great powers, as the French had done, but had sat complacently amid the loud cries of "Long live Liberty! Long live the nation, and our citizen king, the friend of the Rights of Man!" The Poles had certainly become enthusiastic imitators of the French; they had[397] established clubs in imitation of the clubs of Paris, had sent a deputation to congratulate the French on their Revolution, and had passed various decrees of a Jacobin character. Neither did she lack a sanction from the Poles themselves. There had always been violent parties in that kingdom; and at this time a number of nobles, who opposed the new Constitution, sent a deputation with a memorial to the Empress, at St. Petersburg, inviting her to assist them in restoring the old Constitution. Catherine gave them a ready promise, and, on the 14th of May, Felix Potocki, Branicki, Rzewinski, and eleven other nobles, met at Targowica, and entered into a confederacy for this purpose. This confederacy was followed, only four days after its signing, by a protest issued by Bulgakoff, the Russian Minister, at Warsaw, against the whole of the new institutions and decrees. On the 18th of May, the same day that this proclamation was issued at Warsaw, a hundred thousand Russian troops marched over the Polish frontiers, attended by some of the pro-Russian confederates, and assumed the appearance of an army of occupation.
FORE:The audacity of Buonaparte still further excited the indignation of the British Government. Under the name of consuls, he sent over to England and Ireland a number of military officers, whose real business was to act as privileged spies, to prepare plans of all the chief ports, with soundings, and an exact account of the winds with which vessels could go out or come in with most ease, and also at what draught of water the harbours might be entered by large vessels. These agents had been instructed to maintain the utmost secrecy as to their real objects, but they became known, and Ministers announced that any person coming in such a character to this country should be ordered instantly to quit it. Neither was the temper of the nation at all improved by the irritating proceedings of the French authorities on the coasts of France. A law had been passed by the Jacobins, in the most rabid time of the Revolution, condemning any vessel under a hundred tons burden found within four leagues of the French shores, having on board British merchandise. It was taken for granted that this decree was virtually annulled by the Peace of Amiens; but repeated seizures were now made of British merchant vessels driven by stress of weather on the French coasts, and the mere fact of having plates, knives, and forks for the crew, of British make, was used as a plea for confiscation of ships. It was in vain that remonstrances were made to the First Consul: they passed without notice. Such a peace it was evident could not last long. Napoleon was in a mood to brook no control from any quarter; he at this time showed how completely he would crush any creature who offended him when he had the power.
Meanwhile, Washington and Rochambeau were mustering for the march to the Chesapeake. On the 14th of September Washington reached the headquarters of Lafayette, and took the supreme command, Rochambeau being second, and the especial head of the French. The next day Washington and Rochambeau held a conference with the Comte de Grasse. De Grasse told them that what they did they must do quickly, for that he could not remain on that station longer than the 1st of November; and it was resolved to act accordingly.[See larger version]The conduct of the young king, considering his shyness and the defects of his education, was, during the first days of his sudden elevation, calm, courteous, affable, and unembarrassed. "He behaved throughout," says Horace Walpole, "with the greatest propriety, dignity, and decency." He dismissed his Guards to attend on the body of his grandfather. But it was soon seen that there would be great changes in his Government. Pitt waited on him with the sketch of an address to his Council; but the king informed him that this had been thought of, and an address already prepared. This was sufficient for Pitt; he had long been satisfied that the favourite of mother and son, the Groom of the Stole, and the inseparable companion, Bute, would, on the accession of George, mount into the premiership.Whilst the French were seizing on Portugal, the Spanish royal family was convulsed by quarrels. Ferdinand, the Prince of Asturias, and heir to the throne, hated Godoy, as usurping the power which he himself ought to enjoy, and, stimulated by his friends, who shared in his exclusion, appealed to Napoleon for his protection, and to win his favour requested him to choose a wife for him out of his own family. This[550] at one time would have been a subject of the highest pride to Buonaparte, that a member of the Bourbon family, and future King of Spain, should solicit a personal alliance with his; but that day was gone by. Buonaparte had determined to make himself master of Spain, and he left the request of the Prince without any answer. Urged on by his party, the Prince seems to have determined to do without Buonaparte, and to depose his father, but the plot was discovered, and the person of the Prince secured. The imbecile king, instead of contenting himself by the exercise of his own authority, appealed to Napoleon; and at the same time, to make the disgrace of his family as public as possible, he appealed to the Spanish people, by a proclamation against the conduct of his son, and informing them that he had put the Prince under arrest. But the appeal to Buonaparte did not succeed; for his own purposes, the French Emperor appeared to take part with the Prince, and caused his Ambassador, Beauharnais, to remonstrate with the king on his severity towards him. Charles IV. wrote again to Napoleon, and ventured to mention the Prince's private application to him for a wife, hoping, the king said, that the Emperor would not permit the Prince to shelter himself under an alliance with the Imperial family. Buonaparte professed to feel greatly insulted by such allusions to his family, and the poor king then wrote very humbly, declaring that he desired nothing so much as such an alliance for his son. Ferdinand, through this powerful support, was immediately liberated. But these mutual appeals had greatly forwarded Buonaparte's plans of interference in Spain. He levied a new conscription, and avowed to Talleyrand and Fouch that he had determined to set aside the royal family of Spain, and to unite that country to France. Both those astute diplomatists at once disapproved, and endeavoured to dissuade him from the enterprise. They reminded him of the pride of the Spanish character, and that he might rouse the people to a temper of most stubborn resistance, which would divide his attention and his forces, would be pretty certain to bring Britain into the field for their support, and unite Britain again with Russia, thus placing himself between two fires. Talleyrand, seeing that Buonaparte was resolutely bent on the scheme, dropped his opposition, and assisted Napoleon in planning its progress; thus enabling the Emperor afterwards to charge Talleyrand with the responsibility of this usurpation, as he had before charged him with counselling the death of the Duke d'Enghien. In after years, Napoleon used to denounce his own folly in meddling with Spain, calling it "that miserable war" and describing it as the origin of his ruin.
