Page images
PDF
EPUB
[ocr errors]

battalions firing on each other from the two ends of the same street; cannons sweeping off a whole line of persons; muskets fired from windows, house-tops, churches, bridges, &c.; these marked the whole of this dreadful night, for the contest did not cease until 6 o'clock on the morning of the day following. The result was a complete victory on the part of the troops belonging to the convention, and the insurgent party were not able to prevent the passing of an act relating to the new constitution. The national convention, which had sat for three years, then dissolved itself, after having been the instrument and the object, by turns, of some of the most extraordinary events that are recorded in history. Its last legislative act was a commendable one, so far as it went; viz., the granting of an universal pardon for political 'offences;-this meant, not that they would allow the royalists to return to France, but that those engaged in the late tumults should not be further punished.

ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EXECUTIVE DIRECTORY.

We now enter on a new stage in the history of Paris; viz., that in which the legislative powers were vested in a council of five hundred, and a council of ancients, while the executive was administered by a directory of five.

The directory were to remain in office five years, one going out in the May of each year; the council of five hundred, which was something similar to the English house of commons, nòminated fifty persons, each person to be not less than forty years of age; and from this number the council of ancients selected five to be the directors, of whom one was secretary. The members of the legislative body were elected for three years, one-third to go out each year. It followed from these arrangements, that the spring of each year witnessed a violent contest between opposite parties for the attainment of supremacy. About this time was established the National Institute of France, an assembly of the most distinguished scientific and literary men of the country: this institute still exists, and numbers among its members some of the most eminent men in Europe.

It was not until May, 1797, that the directory again felt the power of the Jacobin faction; for in the interval, the almost unexampled successes of Buonaparte in different parts of Europe had so much flattered the feelings of the French, that they seem to have had no wish for civil disturbance. But the time had now arrived when one-third of the representatives were to give up their seats, and one of the directors to retire. The new third was composed of men almost wholly hostile to the directory, and headed by generals Jourdan and Pichegru, who had distinguished themselves by their military deeds. Barthelemy was elected as the new director, and he and Carnot were for peace; while Barras and the remaining_two directors were for continuing the war in which France was engaged. There ensued violent debates in the two houses of legislature: it was found that the directors had put into their own pockets a large amount of the national wealth: this was the first time that such a charge had been brought throughout the revolution. There was now a general wish to get rid of Barras, Reubel, and Lepaux, the three obnoxious directors; and they would in all probability have been deposed, had they not, in violation both of the spirit and the letter of the new constitution, secretly ordered generals Hoche and Augereau to bring their armies to Paris. On the 4th of September, Augereau, with twelve thousand troops, invested the hall of assembly: he affixed his seal upon the doors of the place of meeting of the council of ancients, and planted a battery in front of it; while general Lemoine proceeded with another body of troops to overawe the council of five-hundred. The result was, that the three directors obtained a complete triumph over their enemies; Carnot and Barthelemy, unquestionably the two most conscientious members of the directory, were driven ignominiously from France; and a large number of the deputies who were hostile to Barras, were, by a glaring violation of the new constitution, declared ineligible, and a legislative body was collected, almost wholly subservient to Barras.

The year 1799 witnessed similar scenes to those which had before occurred, arising out of a new election. Sieyes, a man of considerable influence, was now chosen one of the directors; and the legislative chambers received large accessions of men holding violent or republican principles. In a very few months it became evident that a fierce struggle for the mastery would soon ensue. Just at this time, Buonaparte, who had been foiled in Egypt, and who perceived that his ambition was likely to be gratified at Paris, suddenly |

returned to France. He was received with acclamations: and both parties immediately began to court his assistance against the others. He however had plans of his own, which he fully succeeded in carrying, through the aid of Siéyes, who was in his interest. On the 9th of November, 1799, the seat of legislature was, by some specious argument used by Buonaparte's emissaries, removed from the Tuileries to St. Cloud, six miles from Paris. On the following day, therefore, the council of five hundred met at St. Cloud; and soon afterwards received a letter from Legarde, secretary to the directory, stating that four of its members had sent resignations of their offices, and that the fifth (Barras) was in custody by order of general Buonaparte, who had been appointed commander of their guard by the council of ancients. While the members were deliberating, Buonaparte entered the hall, attended by about twenty officers and grenadiers; and advanced towards the chair, where his brother Lucien sat as president. Great confusion ensued: he was branded with the epithets of a Cromwell, a Cæsar, an usurper: the members began to press upon him; and one of them attempted to stab him, Lucien Buonaparte then left the chair, and cast aside the badge which he wore as a member of the council. The confusion did not diminish: a party of armed men rushed in, and carried off Lucien. A tumultuous debate began, in which it was proposed that Buonaparte should be declared an outlaw; when suddenly the doors of the hall were burst open,-military music was heard,—a body of troops entered the hall, and dispersed the members. In the evening a select number of the council of ancients met by their own authority, and voted that the grenadiers, who had made a rampart of their bodies around the commander-in-chief, had deserved well of the country. A committee of five was formed to consider of measures of public safety. At eleven o'clock, Boulay de la Meurthe, appearing as their reporter, declared the radical defects of the existing constitution; and the council, after decreeing the abolition of the directory, vested the powers of the state in Buonaparte, Siéyes, and Roger Ducos, under the title of Consuls.

FORCIBLE APPOINTMENT OF THE CONSULATE, UNDER BUONAPARTE.

Thus ended the directory, after having been at the head of affairs from October, 1795; to November, 1799. In December, 1799, a new constitution was presented to the chambers, dictated according to the ambitious views of Buonaparte. There was in it a show of popular representation; but in fact all real power was vested in Buonaparte, who was chosen consul for a period of ten years.

As soon as that extraordinary man found the management of the kingdom to be in his own hand, he proceeded to make many changes, some for the better, others for the worse. The system of peculation and squandering of the public money by officials was done away; and the laws relating to emigrants were ameliorated. Buonaparte placed men of ability in all the public departments, and endeavoured, as much as he could, to conciliate different parties.

From this period, Buonaparte was alternately engaged in the internal government of the kingdom, and in those extraordinary military exploits which contributed so much to make him a favourite among the French people. In February, 1804, Paris was agitated by a plot formed for the overthrow of the consular government. In this plot, Pichegru and Moreau were implicated, together with other persons of less note; but the position of Buonaparte was by this time so consolidated, that the conspiracy was rendered completely nugatory.

Buonaparte brought down upon him the indignation of all good men about this period, by the execution of the Duke d'Enghien, a distinguished member of the deposed royal family. The duke was suddenly seized, in the duchy of Baden, by some of Buonaparte's cavalry, who had crossed the Rhine for that purpose; hurried to Paris,-a distance of four hundred miles,-and tried and condemned to death on the same day that he arrived. He was led out by torchlight into the wood of Vincennes, near Paris, to be shot. It was proposed to bind a handkerchief over his eyes; but he prevented it, saying,-"A loyal soldier, who has often been exposed to fire and sword, can face death with open eyes, and without fear." He then looked at the soldiers who had levelled their pieces, saying, "Grenadiers, lower your arms, otherwise you will miss or only wound me." Of the nine who fired, seven hit him: two bullets pierced his head, and five his body.-Thus perished the brave son of the Duc de Bourbon.

BUONAPARTE'S ASSUMPTION OF IMPERIAL DIGNITY. The next important event in which the Parisians were especially engaged, was the assumption of the title of emperor by Buonaparte. The first public step towards this end was taken on the 27th of March, when the senate presented an address to Buonaparte, entreating him to accept the title of hereditary emperor of France. Buonaparte of course returned a fitting answer; and on the 1st of May it was proposed in the tribunate that a law should be passed to that effect. On the 18th, the law was passed, and a deputation proceeded to St. Cloud, to present an address of congratulation to Buonaparte and to his wife Josephine.

Every arrangement was soon made for converting France from a republic to an empire; thus presenting to the rest of Europe the striking spectacle of a nation first deposing and murdering a king, and some years afterwards submitting to call by the name of "emperor" a man who had raised himself to note by being a successful soldier! On the 19th November, 1804, Buonaparte was crowned emperor of France in the cathedral of Notre Dame. The pope was summoned from Rome to perform the ceremony; and many of the petty princes of Europe, were required to assist.

Mighty warlike events followed, until the year 1810, when peace was proclaimed. Buonaparte showed that he could sacrifice the tenderest ties to his ambition. Josephine, the empress, was divorced from him, in order that he might marry the archduchess Maria Louisa, daughter of the emperor of Austria. This marriage was celebrated at Paris on the 10th of March, 1810.

We come now to the year 1814, when the allies, having beaten Buonaparte at every point, advanced towards the city of Paris. The loss of life among the French soldiery had been so prodigious, that the Parisians became somewhat disheartened, and no longer felt for Buonaparte that enthusiasm which had so long distinguished them. Besides this, the troops which the emperor had left to protect the city were both inconsiderable in number, and insufficiently armed. On the 30th of March, a severe action was fought near Montmartre, Belle Ville, and other places near Paris: the French displayed their wonted bravery and courage, but it was impossible longer to oppose the immense force brought against them; and the allies entered Paris.

Then ensued the train of political events which terminated in the consignment of Buonaparte to the island of Elba as a sort of state prisoner, and the entry of Louis the Eighteenth, brother of Louis the Sixteenth, into Paris, which latter event took place May 3rd, 1814. Louis was placed by the

allies on the throne which he inherited from his brother: but the army was dissatisfied at losing the successful commander who had so often conducted them to battle; and certain internal regulations which Louis made in the government of France were not of a kind to conciliate the Parisian people. It was this feeling of discontent which enabled Buonaparte, after escaping from Elba in the month of February, 1815, to recover his former popularity in France in an almost incredibly short space of time. He entered Paris in a sort of triumph on the 20th of March,-the king and his adherents fled,-and in a few days, the new order of things was almost wholly overturned. The events which followed this return to Paris, and which terminated with the battle of Waterloo, are beyond our present purpose. Suffice it to say that, on the 22nd of June, Buonaparte, in a proclamation addressed to the French nation, resigned the crown, and declared his son emperor, under the title of Napoleon the Second: the latter part of this declaration, however, was of no effect, for on the 7th of July, Louis the Eighteenth again took possession of the throne, and Buonaparte was sent to St. Helena.

Thus ended a period of twenty-six years, unexampled in the history of nations for the importance of the events which marked it, and which may be mentioned in the following order:-The assembly of the states-general in May, 1789:the assumption by the tiers état of the name of national assembly, in the following June:-the destruction of the Bastille, in July:-the compulsory removal of the king from Versailles to the Tuileries, in October; and the successive approaches towards democracy made in the national assembly during the next two years:-the king's vain attempt at flight from Paris, in June, 1791, followed by his acceptance of the new constitution in September:-the appointment of the legislative assembly, in October:-the attack on the Tuileries, August, 1792, and the still more serious one in September, followed by the committal of the royal family to the temple:-the first meeting of the national convention, and the establishment of a republic, September 21st:the executions of the king, queen, &c., throughout the year 1793:-the fall of Robespierre, July, 1794:-the superseding of the national convention by the directory, in October, 1795:-the rise of the military glory of Napoleon, and the assumption by him of consular power, in November, 1799: the further assumption of the title of emperor, in May, 1804-and the almost incessant train of military operations for eleven years following that event;-constituted a series of events which at various times completely overturned the political and social systems of Europe.

[graphic][ocr errors][merged small]

LONDON: Published by JOHN W. PARKER, WEST STRAND, and sold by all Booksellers.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][graphic][subsumed][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][graphic][merged small]

ACCORDING to the ancient geography we learn that the Peneus, a river of Thessaly, rose on Mount Pindus, and fell into the Thermean Gulf after a wandering course between Mounts Ossa and Olympus, through the plains of Tempé Thessaly still bears its Thessaly still bears its ancient name, but is now a small part of a province of Turkey in Europe. The Peneus now bears the name of Salympria; and the Thermean Gulf, so called because of the hot springs in its neighbourhood, is transmitted into the Gulf of Saloniki. The once celebrated mountains, Ossa and Olympus, Pelion and Pindus, raise their time-honoured heads from the ranges of this district. The views from these classic heights are beautiful; and the aspect of one mountain, when seen from the top of another, and lighted up by the sunshine, is truly sublime, Our present purpose, however, VOL. XVII.

is to describe more particularly that part of the mountain-range near the village of Kalabaki, which presents to the eye a number of rocky, vertical promontories, bearing the general name of METEORA, because they are high up in the air; for which reason also we call certain luminous appearances, which are high up in the heavens, by the name of meteors. The monastery of BARLAAM, situated on one of the rocks just alluded to, and of which a view is given above, seems to have been almost unknown to the world, until the interesting researches of the Rev. Messrs. Hughes and Jones, about thirty years ago, caused the reading part of the world to give some little attention to the peculiar situation and inmates of this place.

There are several monasteries on the rocks of Meteora which are seen from a great distance in de530

scending the valley of the Salympria. They rise from the comparatively flat surface of the valley, about a mile distant from the river. They form a group of insulated masses, cones, and pillars of rock, of the average height of four hundred feet; and for the most part so perpendicular in their ascent, that each one of their numerouse fronts seems to the eye as a vast wall, formed rather by the art of man than by the more varied and irregular workings of nature. The village of Kalabaki is situated immediately below the loftiest of these curious pinnacles of rock, which seems to impend over the place and its inhabitants.

When the Rev. Mr. Jones, in the course of his travels, proceeded to inspect the loftiest of these rocks, which was Barlaam, the subject of our paper, he found the monks employed in drawing up provisions and wood by means of a rope and pulley from a pent-house at the left extremity of these aërial buildings. On his requesting to ascend to their habitations in the air, a rope of greater thickness was let down, with a net at the end of it, in which he was placed, and drawn up to the height of about two hundred feet above where he was standing. When he had been dragged in and disengaged from the net, it was let down a second time for his attendant Nicolo, who could not at first be persuaded to enter, but whom it was necessary to have as an interpreter. The monks received him with great kindness, and showed him several of their numerous apartments. There were two churches or chapels, and a library containing about three hundred volumes, among which were the principal writers of the ancient Greeks. The prior of this society said that he had resided in this airy monastery for seventy-two years, and recollected Jacob, the Swedish traveller, visiting the monastery. After partaking of refreshments, the visiters descended by the way they went up.

Mr. Gockerell, in a letter to the Rev. Mr. Hughes, speaks of the surprise and pleasure which he felt in viewing such curious abodes, planted like the nests of eagles upon the summits of high and pointed rocks. As he himself and his attendant Michaëli wished to visit the monastery, they soon found themselves, to their great alarm, put into a net very much like a cabbage-bag, and drawn up into the air by a rope scarcely one inch and a half in diameter; all the while surrounded by precipices on all sides.

There were once eighteen of these monasteries; but the number is now reduced to ten; and even these have suffered considerable decay. The monks are in a state of great ignorance, and know almost nothing of their own history. The circumference of the ground at the top of the rock of Barlaam is about two hundred yards. The prospect is not extensive from this height, being confined by the other rocks and their monasteries. Close to Barlaam is a great rock, called Meteora, which gives its name to all the rest collectively. The village of Kalabaki, before mentioned, was governed by Vely Pasha, who had very greatly increased the taxes or tributes laid upon the land; which was the main cause of the wretched condition in which the monks were found, as well as the inhabitants of the country in general, who all complained grievously of the vizier's exactions, which they said were not a regulated sum, but depended upon his own arbitrary will. The inhabitants were then in great distress, but endeavoured to avoid becoming chiflick, which implies a sort of general bankruptcy, when, being unable to answer the extortionate demands of their governor, they throw up their land into his hands. They spoke with great horror of such a disaster, and of the misfortunes of several neighbouring villages under the jurisdiction of Vely, which had become chiflick. That

[ocr errors]

such results should ensue from the infliction of Turkish despotism upon this fair land, can be no great matter of wonder to us, who are used to the more enlightened governments of the West.

Another great curse which at intervals befalls these beautiful regions-but perhaps scarcely more desolating than the oppressive sway of the Turks-is the plague. When the Rev. Mr. Jones and his companion left the monastery of Barlaam, they pursued their journey from Kalabaki to Triccala, over an immense plain, sixty miles long, and twenty broad. This city had been for some time greatly declining; the plague had carried off four thousand persons only a little while before Mr. Jones visited it, and many of the inhabitants had also fled from the exactions of Ali and his son Vely Pasha. There is at Triccala an old Greek castle of the middle ages. Between Triccala and Larissa is another great plain. The "Plain of the fertile Larissa" was an epithet applied to this land by Horace, eighteen hundred years ago: but at the time of which we write, all the country round bore melancholy testimony of the effects of the plague. Whole villages were found entirely devoid of inhabitants; and in Larissa alone, it was computed that not less than eight thousand persons had fallen victims to this deadly and unsparing malady.

In journeying on southward, travellers arrive successively at three places most celebrated in ancient history:-the plains of Pharsalia, the pass of Thermopylæ, and the mountain of Parnassus.

On the plains of Pharsalia was fought the battle between Julius Cæsar and Pompey, in the year 48 B.C. By the defeat of the latter, and the general degeneracy of moral feeling among the Romans, their state became subject, in a very few years, to a series of despots, who owned scarcely any law or rule, but their own imperial wills.

The pass of Thermopyla is celebrated for a battle which was fought there, B.C. 480, between Xerxes and the Greeks, in which three hundred Spartans resisted, for three successive days repeatedly, the attacks of the bravest and most courageous of the Persian army, which amounted, according to some historians, to five millions of souls. This pass has a large ridge of mountains on the west, and the sea on the east, with deep and dangerous marshes; and the road was at that time, in the narrowest part, only twenty-five feet broad. This place received its name from the hot springs which were near; and the sea was named, as we remarked before, the Gulf of Therma. Mr. Cockerell says in his letter to Mr. Hughes,—" The thermæ, or hot springs, have no doubt accumulated a quantity of stony sediment, and widened the passage to its present extent, which is about one quarter of a mile: below is a considerable marsh gained from the sea, but further to the south-east are some low hills, which an army would still find it difficult to pass: the present road winds round the point of these for several hundred yards, and is not above thirty feet wide: here I should conceive the famous pass to have been."

The valleys and green woods that covered the sides of the mountain of Parnassus, rendered it in ancient times agreeable, and fit for solitude and meditation. Hence, it was the sacred haunt, real or ideal, of the poets of those days. The scenery is still fine and romantic; but modern thieves and robbers have suceeded to the inheritance of the poets. Parnassus is said to be one of the highest mountains of Europe, and is easily seen from the citadel of Corinth, eighty miles distant. The ancients considered this mountain to be one day's journey round.

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE MONTHS.

X. OCTOBER.

Then came October, full of merry glee
For yet his nowle was totty of the must,
Which he was treading, in the wine-fat's see

Upon a dreadful scorpion he did ride,

The same which by Dianae's doom unjust
Slew great Orion; and eke by his side

He had his ploughing-share, and coulter ready tyed.

SPENSER.

How gradually and almost imperceptibly do the seasons advance and retire! Day by day we are receiving fresh intimations of the departure of summer's days and scenery, and even of the decline of "sober autumn, fading into age;" yet, from the gentleness of the transition, and the many beautiful scenes presented to us in the changing aspect of nature, we almost forget to mark the steps of the pale-descending year, and are sometimes carried far on our way towards the succeeding season, ere we are reminded, in any painful degree, that the rigours of winter have yet to be endured.

Perhaps there is not a more beautiful sight throughout the whole year, than that which is presented by our woods and groves in the month of October. The richly-diversified tints and hues of forest-trees at this season give an air of grandeur to the landscape, which is altogether unrivalled; and yet, accompanied as it is, and must be, with the thoughts of decay and approaching desolation, the scenery of autumn generally inspires the observer with pensive emotions, approaching to sadness. The foliage of those trees which lose their leaves the soonest, such as the lime, horse-chestnut, birch, and ash, are either yellowish-green, or gold-colour; the planes and sycamores have various hues of yellow and brilliant red the elms acquire a fine rich tint of orangebrown, and the beeches have yet a deeper shade of rich brown tending towards red. The oaks are extremely variable in their appearance, according to circumstances of age or soil: some appear almost in their summer dress, others wear a more dusky garb of green, and there are some that have assumed a robe of russet hue. Pollard-oaks, as well as young beech-trees, sometimes retain their foliage all the winter, until the young leaves appear and push it off; but deciduous trees, in general, lose the whole of their foliage during this month and the succeeding one. It has been well remarked that "the fall of the leaf, indicates, not the death, but the life of the tree." Were the tree dead, the leaves would all adhere to the branches, and it would be more difficult to remove them, than in the case of a living tree; but in the natural fall of the leaf, the sap retreats to the root, and, by the contraction of its vessels, produces that remarkable change which is so especially characteristic of the present season. In the removal of trees and plants, therefore, (for which this month affords in many cases, a convenient season,) the cultivator may anticipate the best results from such trees as shed their leaves soon after the removal takes place: the sap has probably retreated to the root, and will put forth again with renewed energy in the ensuing spring. The tree on which the shrivelled leaves remain long, and cling closely, is probably dead.

The glowing hues of this month are not confined to the many-coloured woods: the hedges are decked with hip and haw, sloe, and blackberry, and with many a brilliant and tempting-looking berry besides, against which we must warn the inexperienced youngster who would readily pluck and try them all. These, interspersed with crimson or pink or yellow leaves, half-hidden with moss, and lichen,

and decked round with a few pale scattered flowers, join with

Th' ensanguin'd dog-wood, and a thousand tints
Which Flora, dressed in all her pride of bloom,
Could scarcely equal,

to decorate the banks and hedge-rows during this month.

The open fields are again the scene of active industry. Ploughing and sowing begin again to occupy the husbandman, and both these operations present an interesting spectacle :

The plough moves heavily, and strong the soil,
And clogging harrows with augmented toil
Drive deep and clinging, mixes with the mould
A fattening treasure from the nightly fold,
And all the cow-yard's highly valued store,
That late bestrewed the blackened surface o'er.
No idling hours are here, when fancy trims
Her dancing taper over outstretched limbs,
And in her thousand thousand colours drest,
Plays round the grassy couch of noontide rest:
Here Giles for hours of indolence atones
With strong exertion, and with aching bones;
And knows no leisure, till the distant chime,
Of Sabbath bells he hears at sermon time,
That down the brook sound sweetly in the gale,
Or strike the rising hill, or skim the dale.

Farmer's Boy.

Unless wet weather intervene, sowing is carried on throughout this month, and the crops of wheat are generally consigned to the earth ere its conclusion. The introduction of machinery for agricultural purposes has tended greatly to lessen toil, and to promote the interests of all classes; but it takes from us nevertheless much that is pleasing to the eye, as it regards the operations of the field. The sowing of the seed "by hand" is one of the most pleasing rural occupations that can greet our view; the action of the husbandman, as thus engaged, may truly be called graceful; the casting forth the grain by handsful upon the open face of the earth has a far more poetical effect than sowing it "in drills;" the quiet and placid air of the sower accords with the nature of his employment, which is one of trust and expectation of future benefit; and the protracted nature of his operations, awakens and excites our attention to his work, and thus reminds us of our dependence on the God of seasons for our future harvest, and instils a grateful recollection of past mercies, with a hopeful anticipation of their renewal.

In the intervals of ploughing and sowing, many other occupations demand the attention of the agriculturist. The potato-crops have to be secured from the increasing coldness of the weather, and in the gathering and storing of the winter supply many busy hands are employed. Forest and fruit trees have likewise to be planted; stubble-fields to be ploughed up for winter fallows; and various repairs and alterations to be made, which the previous busy season had withheld the execution of. In neighbourhoods where the pleasures of the chase are keenly followed, the repair of hedges and banks is wisely postponed to a later period of the year; for this is the height of the hunting season, and the fields being cleared of their produce, and the heat of the weather having given place to the cold winds of autumn, it is, looking to convenience alone, decidedly the most favourable season for their sport.

The fields are now free to the entrance of the pack; and the train of horsemen can do little injury to the majority of the grounds; so that, according to Somerville, "no secret curse swells in the farmer's breast," But courteous now he levels every fence, Joins in the common cry, and halloos loud, Charmed with the rattling thunder of the field.

« PreviousContinue »