Life of Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, vol 1 | Page 2

Retreat. XX. Louis

Philippe's Visit.--The Opening Of The Royal Exchange.

CHAPTER I
. SIXTY-THREE YEARS SINCE.
The 24th of May, 1819, was a memorable and happy day for England,
though like many such days, it was little noticed at the time. Sixty-three
years since! Do many of us quite realise what England was like then;
how much it differed from the England of to-day, even though some of
us have lived as many years? It is worth while devoting a chapter to an
attempt to recall that England.
A famous novel had for its second heading, "'Tis sixty years since."
That novel--"Waverley"--was published anonymously just five years
before 1819, and, we need not say, proved an era in literature. The sixty
years behind him to which Walter Scott--a man of forty-three--looked
over his shoulder, carried him as far back as the landing of Prince
Charlie in Moidart, and the brief romantic campaign of the '45, with the
Jacobite songs which embalmed it and kept it fresh in Scotch
memories.
The wounds dealt at Waterloo still throbbed and burnt on occasions in
1819. Many a scarred veteran and limping subaltern continued the
heroes of remote towns and villages, or starred it at Bath or Tunbridge.
The warlike fever, which had so long raged in the country, even when
ruined manufacturers and starving mechanics were praying for peace or
leading bread-riots, had but partially abated; because whatever wrong
to trade, and misery to the poor, closed ports and war prices might have
meant, the people still depended upon their armed defenders, and in the
hardest adversity found the heart to share their triumphs, to illuminate
cities, light bonfires, cheer lustily, and not grudge parliamentary grants
to the country's protectors. The "Eagle" was caged on his rock in the
ocean, to eat his heart out in less than half-a-dozen years. Still there
was no saying what might happen, and the sight of a red coat and a
sword remained cheering--especially to soft hearts.
The commercial world was slowly recovering from its dire distress, but
its weavers and mechanics were blazing up into fierce, futile struggle
with the powers by which masses of the people believed themselves
oppressed. If the men of war had no longer anything to do abroad, there

was great fear that work might be found for them at home. All Europe
was looking on in the expectation that England was about to follow the
example of France, and indulge in a revolution on its own account--not
bloodless this time.
Rarely since the wars of the Commonwealth had high treason been so
much in men's mouths as it was in Great Britain during this and the
following year. Sedition smouldered and burst into flame--not in one
place alone, but at every point of the compass. The mischief was not
confined to a single class; it prevailed mostly among the starving
operatives, but it also fired minds of quite another calibre. Rash,
generous spirits in every rank became affected, especially after an
encounter between the blinded, maddened mobs and the military, when
dragoons and yeomanry charged with drawn swords, and women and
children went down under the horses' hoofs. Great riotous meetings
were dispersed by force at Manchester, Birmingham, Paisley. Political
trials went on at every assize. Bands of men lay in York, Lancaster, and
Warwick gaols. At Stockport Sir Charles Wolseley told a crowd armed
with bludgeons that he had been in Paris at the beginning of the French
Revolution, that he was the first man who made a kick at the Bastille,
and that he hoped he should be present at the demolition of another
Bastille.
On the 22nd of August, 1819, Sir Francis Burdett wrote to his electors
at Westminster: "....It seems our fathers were not such fools as some
would make us believe in opposing the establishment of a standing
army and sending King William's Dutch guards out of the country. Yet
would to heaven they had been Dutchmen, or Switzers, or Russians, or
Hanoverians, or anything rather than Englishmen who have done such
deeds. What! kill men unarmed, unresisting; and, gracious God!
women too, disfigured, maimed, cut down, and trampled on by
dragoons! Is this England? This a Christian land--a land of freedom?"
For this, and a great deal more, Sir Francis, after a protracted trial, was
sentenced to pay a fine of two thousand pounds and to be imprisoned
for three months in the Marshalsea of the Court. In the Cato Street
conspiracy the notorious Arthur Thistlewood and his
fellow-conspirators planned to assassinate the whole of the Cabinet
Ministers when they were dining at Lord Harrowby's house, in
Grosvenor Square. Forgery and sheep-stealing were still punishable by

death. Truly these were times of trouble in England.
In London a serious difficulty presented itself when Queen Charlotte
grew old