Chapter IX: Part 9
To this early period of Pope’s life belong the ‘Messiah,’ the ‘Ode for St. Cecilia’s Day,’ ‘Verses to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady,’ and other of Pope’s minor pieces, which were collected and published in a small 8vo. volume in 1720. It is stated in a note to Dr. Johnson’s Life, that Pope himself was the object of the passion commemorated in the last-mentioned poem. The date of that most brilliant composition, ‘Eloisa to Abelard,’ is uncertain. The ‘Essay on Criticism’ was written in 1709, “A work,” says Johnson, “which displays such extent of comprehension, such nicety of distinction, such acquaintance with mankind, and such knowledge both of ancient and modern learning, as are not often attained by the maturest age and longest experience.” Pope’s fame was carried to its height by the ‘Rape of the Lock.’ That poem originated in an impertinence offered by Lord Petre to Mrs. Arabella Fermor, which led to a quarrel between their respective families. Both parties were among Pope’s acquaintance, and this lively piece was written to produce a reconciliation, in which it succeeded. The universal applause given to the first sketch induced the author to enrich it with the machinery of the Sylphs. In that new dress the two cantos, extended to five, came out in 1712, accompanied by a letter to Mrs. Arabella Fermor, to whom he afterwards addressed another after her marriage, in the spruce and courtly style of Voiture. A sentence or two may be quoted as a sample of the poet’s epistolary manner. “Madam, you are sensible, by this time, how much the tenderness of one man of merit is to be preferred to the addresses of a thousand; and by this time, the gentleman you have made choice of is sensible how great is the joy of having all those charms and good qualities which have pleased so many, now applied to please one only.... It may be expected, perhaps, that one who has the title of being a wit should say something more polite upon this occasion; but I am really more a well-wisher to your felicity, than a celebrator of your beauty.... I hope you will think it but just that a man, who will certainly be spoken of as your admirer after he is dead, may have the happiness, while he is living, to be esteemed, Yours, &c.” This letter is sometimes annexed to the poem, and not injudiciously, as it completes the winding-up in the happy marriage of the heroine. In the same year he published his ‘Temple of Fame,’ which, according to his habitual caution, he had kept two years in his study. It appears from one of his letters, that at that time he had made some progress in translating the Iliad: in 1713, he circulated proposals for publishing his translation by subscription. He had been pressed to this undertaking some time before by several of his friends, and was now encouraged in the design by others. The publication of the first four books, in 1715, gave general satisfaction; and so materially improved the author’s finances, that he resolved to come nearer to his friends in the capital. With that view, the small estate at Binfield was sold, and he purchased a house at Twickenham, whither he removed with his father and mother before the end of the year 1715. While employed in the decoration of his seat, he could not forbear doubling his pleasures by boasting of it in his communications with his friends. In a letter to Mr. Blount he says, in his customary tone of gallantry, “The young ladies may be assured that I make nothing new in my gardens, without wishing to see them print their fairy steps in every corner of them.... You’ll think I have been very poetical in this description, but it is pretty nearly the truth.” This letter was written in 1725. Warburton tells us that the improvement of his celebrated grotto was the favourite amusement of his declining years: not long before his death, by enlarging and ornamenting it with ores and minerals of the richest and rarest kind, he had made it a most elegant and romantic retirement. But modern taste will scarcely confirm the reverend editor’s assertion, that “the beauty of his poetic genius, in the disposition and ornaments of those romantic materials, appeared to as much advantage as in any of his best-contrived poems.”
Pope’s father survived his removal to Twickenham only two years. The old gentleman had sometimes recommended to his son the study of medicine, as the best method of increasing his scanty patrimony. Neglect of pecuniary considerations was not among Pope’s weaknesses: he did not indeed engage in the medical profession; but he took other opportunities of pushing his fortune. With this view, he published an edition of his collected poems in 1717; a proceeding as much suggested by profit as by fame. In the like disposition, he undertook a new edition of Shakspeare, which was published in 1721. The execution of it proved the editor’s unfitness for the task which he had undertaken. Immediately after the completion of the Iliad, in 1720, Pope engaged, for a considerable sum, to undertake the Odyssey. Only twelve books, however, of the translation proceeded from his own pen: the rest were done by Broome and Fenton under his direction. The work was completed in 1725. The following year was employed, in concert with Swift and Arbuthnot, in the publication of miscellanies, of which the most remarkable is the celebrated ‘History of Martinus Scriblerus.’ About this time, as he was returning home one day in Lord Bolingbroke’s chariot, it was overturned on Chase Bridge, near Twickenham, and thrown with the horses into the river. The glasses being up, Pope was nearly drowned, and was extricated with difficulty from his hazardous situation. He lost the use of two fingers, in consequence of a severe cut from the broken glass.
Having secured an independent fortune, Pope endeavoured to protect his literary fame from all future attacks, by browbeating every one into silence: this he hoped to accomplish by the poem of the ‘Dunciad,’ which came out in 4to. in the year 1727. He somewhere says, that the life of an author is a state of warfare: he now showed himself a master in literary tactics, a great captain in offensive as well as defensive war. The poem made its first appearance in Ireland, cautiously, as a masked battery; nor was the triumph completed without the co-operation of an Eugene with this satirical Marlborough in the person of Swift, who furnished some of the materials in his own masterly style of sarcasm. The improved edition was printed in London in 1728. Sir Robert Walpole presented it to the King and Queen, and, probably at the same time, offered to procure the author a pension; but Pope refused this, as he had before, in 1714, rejected a similar proposal from Lord Halifax. In a letter to Swift, written about this time, he expresses his feelings thus: “I was once before displeased at you for complaining to Mr. —— of my not having a pension; I am so again at your naming it to a certain lord.” In 1710, Mr. Craggs had given him a subscription for one hundred pounds in the South Sea Fund; but he made no use of it. These favours must be understood to have been proffered for the purpose of estranging him from his personal friends; and this repeated rejection of them is an honourable proof of steadiness to his attachments.
In 1729, the poet, by Lord Bolingbroke’s advice, turned his pen to moral subjects; and, with the assistance of his friend, set to work upon the ‘Essay on Man.’ Bolingbroke writes thus to Swift: “Bid Pope talk to you of the work he is about, I hope in good earnest; it is a fine one, and will be, in his hands, an original.” Pope tells the dean, in his next letter, what this work was. “The work Lord Bolingbroke speaks of with such abundant partiality, is a system of ethics, in the Horatian way.” In another letter, written probably at the beginning of the following year, we trace the general aim which he at all events wished the public to attribute to this work. “I am just now writing, or rather planning, a book to bring mankind to look upon this life with comfort and pleasure, and put morality in good humour.” This subject was well suited to his genius. He found the performance more easy than he had expected, and employed his leisure by following up the design in his Ethic Epistles, which came out separately in the course of the two following years. The fourth, addressed to the Earl of Burlington, did no good to the author’s character, in consequence of the violent attack supposed to be made on the Duke of Chandos, a beneficent and esteemed nobleman, under the name of Timon. Pope loudly asserted that in drawing Timon’s character he had not the Duke in view: but his denials have not obtained credence; and he has thus incurred the charge of equivocation and falsehood, without exculpating himself from that of ingratitude and wanton insolence. The vexation caused by this business was somewhat softened by the rapid and lucrative sale of the epistle, which very soon went through the press a third time. In a letter to Lord Bolingbroke he says, “Certainly the writer deserved more candour, even in those who knew him not, than to promote a report, which, in regard to that noble person, was impertinent; in regard to me, villainous. I have taken an opportunity of the third edition, to declare his belief not only of my innocence, but of their malignity; of the former of which my heart is as conscious as I fear some of theirs must be of the latter. His humanity feels a concern for the injury done to me, while his greatness of mind can bear with indifference the insult offered to himself.” He concludes with a threat of using real instead of fictitious names in his future works. How far he carried that menace into effect will presently be seen. The complaints made against the epistle in question by secret enemies provoked him to write satire, in which he ventured to attack the characters of some persons in high life: the affront was of course resented, and he retaliated by renewing his invective against them, both in prose and verse. In the imitation of the first satire of the second book of Horace, he had described Lord Hervey and Lady Mary Wortley Montague so characteristically, under the names of Lord Fanny and Sappho, that those noble personages, besides fighting the aggressor with his own weapons, used their interests to his injury, not only among the nobility, but with the King and Queen. Pope remonstrated most strongly against this last mode of revenge. He continued writing satires till the year 1739, when he entertained some thoughts of undertaking an epic poem on the pretended colonization of our island by the Trojan Brute. A sketch of this project, which he never carried into effect, is given in Ruffhead’s ‘Life of Pope,’ p. 410.
Pope was an elaborate letter-writer; and many of his familiar epistles found their way into the world without his privity. Under the plea of self-defence he published a correct and genuine collection of them in 1737. About this time the weak state of his health drew him frequently to Bath. Mr. Allen, a resident in the neighbourhood, having been pleased with the letters, took occasion to form an acquaintance with the author, which soon ripened into friendship. Hence arose Pope’s intimacy with Warburton, who tells us that, before they knew each other, he had written his ‘Commentary on the Art of Criticism, and on the Essay on Man.’ One complaint against that essay had rested on its obscurity, of which the author had previously been warned by Swift. But this was comparatively a slight objection: the philosophic poet was charged with having insidiously laid down a scheme of deism. A French translation, by the Abbé Resnil, appeared at Paris in 1738, on which a German professor, by name Crousaz, animadverted, as a system of ethics embodying the doctrine of fatalism. Pope thus acknowledges his obligation to Warburton for his defence: “You have made my system as clear as I ought to have done, and could not; you understand me as well as I do myself, but you express me better than I express myself.” The ‘Essay on Man’ was republished with the Commentary annexed in 1740; and at the instance of Warburton, a fourth book was added to the ‘Dunciad,’ and printed separately in 1742.
In the course of the following year the whole poem of the ‘Dunciad’ was published together, as a specimen of a more correct edition of Pope’s works, which the author had then resolved to give to the world; but he did not live to complete it. He had through life been subject to an habitual headache inherited from his mother, and this was now greatly increased, with the addition of dropsical symptoms. He died on the 30th of May, 1744, in the fifty-sixth year of his age. Pursuant to his own request, his body was laid in the same vault with those of his parents, to whose memory he had erected a monument, with an inscription written by himself, immediately on their respective deaths. To this, in conformity with his will, the simple words, “Et sibi,” with the date of his death, were added. He bequeathed to Warburton the property of such of his works already printed as he had written, or should write, commentaries upon, provided they had not been otherwise disposed of or alienated; with this condition, that they were to be published without future alterations. After he had made his will, he wrote a letter to this legatee, announcing his legacy, and saying, “I own the late encroachments upon my constitution make me willing to see the end of all further care about me, or my works. I would rest for the one in a full resignation of my being to be disposed of by the Father of all mercy; and for the other (though indeed a trifle, yet a trifle may be some example), I would commit them to the candour of a sensible and reflecting judge, rather than to the malice of every shortsighted and malevolent critic, or inadvertent and censorious reader. And no hand can set them in so good a light, or so well can turn their best side to the day, as your own.” In discharge of his trust, Warburton put forth a complete edition of all Pope’s works in 1751; and, according to his own persuasion, executed it conformably to the presumed wishes of the author. In point of elegance, allowing for the state of typography at the time, no objection could be made, nor could the poet’s orders have been more faithfully obeyed, in forming the various pieces into a collection. But some of Warburton’s remarks are in a less friendly tone than might have been expected; and if not absolutely injurious to his memory, are such as leave Pope’s moral character in a measure open to attack. Many circumstances are related in the large biographies of Pope, which our inclination would as little allow us as our limits to detail. Some of them would not compensate in desirable information for the tediousness of the narrative: others relate to defunct controversies. To the latter of these classes may be referred Pope’s quarrel with Colley Cibber, which loaded the press with vulgar indecency on both sides; also, Bolingbroke’s charge of treachery brought against Pope in an advertisement prefixed to a tract published by his lordship in 1749, five years after the accused could no longer answer his accuser.
We shall not devote any part of our confined space to an examination of the faults and weaknesses of this eminent man: they have been fully dwelt on in works of easy access. Some apology for many of them may be found in his bodily infirmities, deformed frame, and extreme debility of constitution. Pope’s person, character, and writings are treated of at large by Dr. Warton, in his ‘Essay.’ Ruffhead’s ‘Life of Pope’ contains much curious and entertaining matter. Dr. Johnson’s examination of Pope’s works is among the most elaborate and best pieces of criticism in his ‘Lives of the Poets.’ We cannot better conclude than with his description of Pope’s appearance, and summing up of his poetical character. “The person of Pope is well known not to have been formed by the nicest model. He has, in his account of the ‘Little Club,’ compared himself to a spider, and by another is described as protuberant before and behind. He is said to have been beautiful in his infancy: but he was of a constitution originally feeble and weak; and, as bodies of a tender frame are easily distorted, his deformity was probably in part the effect of his application. His stature was so low, that, to bring him to a level with common tables, it was necessary to raise his seat. But his face was not displeasing, and his eyes animated and vivid....” “It is surely superfluous to answer the question that has once been asked, whether Pope was a poet, otherwise than by asking, in return, if Pope be not a poet, where is poetry to be found? To circumscribe poetry by a definition will only show the narrowness of the definer, though a definition which shall exclude Pope will not easily be made. Let us look round upon the present time, and back upon the past; let us inquire to whom the voice of mankind has decreed the wreath of poetry; let their productions be examined, and their claims stated, and the pretensions of Pope will be no more disputed. Had he given the world only his version, the name of poet must have been allowed him: if the writer of the Iliad were to class his successors, he would assign a very high place to his translator, without requiring any other evidence of genius.” With respect to the translation of the Iliad, it is fair to give Pope the benefit of Dr. Johnson’s praise. But we are justified by the consentient voice of almost all scholars, in condemning it as an unfaithful and meretricious version, composed in a spirit totally different from that of Homer, and bearing no resemblance to his manner.
Our engraving is from a copy of the original picture by Hudson, made by T. Uwins, A.R.A.
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_Engraved by W. Holl._
BOLIVAR.
_From an Engraving by Mr. H. Ponte._
Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._
]
BOLIVAR.
The history of Bolivar is that of the revolutions in Columbia and Peru. Nothing remarkable is related of his early life; and with respect to his personal merits as a soldier and statesman, he has shared the common lot of eminent men, in being extravagantly praised and violently censured. He has been compared to Cæsar and Napoleon on the one hand; and he has been accused of frivolity, incompetency, and even cowardice, on the other. The time for forming a dispassionate opinion of his character is not yet arrived. We shall, therefore, confine ourselves to a short sketch of the establishment of independence on the Spanish Main, so far as Bolivar was concerned in it; premising that we merely follow the course of history in giving him the credit of those measures which were carried into execution under his authority and ostensible guidance.
Simon Bolivar was born in the city of Caracas, the capital of Venezuela, on the 24th or 25th of July, 1783. In early childhood he lost both his parents, who were of noble family, and possessed of large estates. At the age of fourteen or sixteen, he was sent to Spain for education. His habits are said to have been dissipated; but he paid some attention to the study of jurisprudence. After visiting Italy and France, he returned to Madrid, married, and in 1809 returned to reside on his estates near Caracas. It is positively asserted, and as positively denied, that Bolivar had an active share in the decisive movement at Caracas, April 19, 1810, when the Spanish authorities were deposed. A congress was summoned, which met March 2, 1811. Bolivar received a colonel’s commission, and was sent to claim the protection of Great Britain. The date of his return to South America we do not find: but he is said to have been concerned in the first military operations of the patriots; and in September, 1811, he was appointed governor of the strong sea-port of Puerto Cabello. In March, 1812, a violent earthquake took place. The clergy succeeded in producing a considerable reaction in favour of royalist principles, by representing this calamity to be a manifestation of God’s wrath against revolution. Monteverde, the royal general, then advanced, and met with rapid success. The strong hold of Puerto Cabello, the chief depôt of the patriots, was wrested from Bolivar by an insurrection of the prisoners confined in it; the patriot army became dispirited; and General Miranda, under the sanction of congress, concluded a treaty, July 26, 1812, by which an amnesty was concluded, and the province of Venezuela returned under the dominion of Spain. Miranda was subsequently arrested on a futile charge of treachery to the patriot cause, and delivered to the Spaniards, who kept him in prison to the day of his death. In this unjustifiable transaction, Bolivar had a principal share.
Bolivar retired for a short time to his estate; but he soon became uneasy at the frequency of arrests, and obtained a passport to quit the country. He retired to Curaçoa. In the following September, his active temper led him to seek employment in the patriot army of New Granada, which had declared itself independent in 1811, and still held out, with better fortune than Venezuela. He obtained a trifling command, not such as to satisfy his ambition; and on his own responsibility, he undertook an expedition against the Spaniards on the east bank of the river Magdalena, in which he succeeded; clearing the country of Spanish posts from Mompox, on the above named river, to the town of Ocaña, on the frontier of Caracas. This exploit attracted public notice. He conceived the bold plan of invading Venezuela with his small forces, and the congress of New Granada consented to his making the attempt, and raised him to the rank of brigadier. He crossed the frontier with little more than 500 men; but the country rose in arms to second him; and after several engagements, in which the patriots were successful, he defeated Monteverde in person at the battle of Lastoguanes, and, finally, entered Caracas, the capital of Venezuela, in triumph, August 4, 1813.
At this time no regular government could be said to exist; but a convention of the chief civil and military functionaries, held at Caracas, January 2, 1814, conferred on Bolivar the title of Liberator of Venezuela, and invested him with the office of Dictator, and the supreme control over both branches of the executive. But these successes were followed by a rapid reverse; and before the end of the year, he was beaten out of Venezuela, and obliged to return to New Granada. That country was harassed by the contests of numerous and discordant parties. Bolivar was received with respect by the congress; and was entrusted with the task of compelling the dissentient province of Santa Fe de Bogotá, afterwards named Cundinamarca, to accede to the union of the other provinces. He marched against the city of Bogotá in December, at the head of 2000 men. It was not in a condition to resist, and capitulated, after the suburbs had been taken by storm. It will afford an instance of the difficulty of getting at the real character of Bolivar, to say, that we find it stated in one account that his behaviour at Bogotá received not only the thanks of Congress, but the approbation of the citizens; while another author asserts, that notwithstanding the capitulation, and in spite of the most urgent remonstrances, he permitted the pillage of part of the city for the space of forty-eight hours. He was then appointed to act against the strong town of Santa Martha, which commands the mouth of the river Magdalena. Unfortunately, private enmity between himself and Castillo, the governor of Carthagena, led to dissensions which ended in the investment of Carthagena, instead of Santa Martha, by Bolivar. During this civil strife, which led to consequences most injurious to the patriot cause, General Morillo arrived from Spain, now enabled by the peace of 1814 to act with more vigour against her revolted colonies; and Bolivar gave up his command, on the pretext that the harmony and advantage of the army required it, and embarked for Jamaica, May 10, 1815. During his abode at Kingston, he narrowly escaped assassination at the hands of a Spaniard, who stabbed to the heart a person who chanced to occupy the bed in which Bolivar usually slept. From Jamaica, he went to Hayti, where, with the help of the president Petion, and in conjunction with a French officer, Commodore Brion, he drew together a force, with which he again raised the standard of independence in the province of Cumana, in May, 1816: but he was soon driven out of the country, and returned to Hayti, whence, in December, he again sailed to the island of Margarita, and he issued a proclamation convoking a congress of the representatives of Venezuela. He then repaired to Barcelona, and organised a provisional government. During the years 1817 and 1818, the struggle was obstinate; but the patriot cause on the whole gained a decided advantage. In February 1819, Bolivar summoned a congress at Angostura, on the river Orinoco, and resigned his authority into its hands. The assembly, however, continued to him the executive power, with the title of Provisional President of Venezuela, until the expulsion of the enemy should afford a prospect of more settled times.
Bolivar rejoined the army in March, and soon after conducted his forces to join the patriots in New Granada. Two battles, on the 1st and 23d of July, were fought to the advantage of the patriots, whose cause obtained a final triumph in the decisive victory won August 7, at Bojaca. Bolivar advanced at once to Bogotá, where he was enthusiastically welcomed; and within a short time, eleven provinces of New Granada announced their adhesion to the cause of independence. He summoned a congress, by which he was appointed President, and Captain-general of the Republic. Meanwhile a party, jealous of his intentions, had obtained the ascendancy in the Venezuela Congress held at Angostura; and Bolivar, fearful of being supplanted, quitted the scene of war with his best troops and marched to Angostura. His presence, with such a force, turned the scale in favour of the party attached to his interest. It was determined to summon a general convention from the independent provinces of Venezuela and Granada; and December 17, 1819, the celebrated decree was passed by which the two states were united, and entitled the Republic of Columbia. Bolivar was appointed President.
Strengthened by union, the patriots took the field in greater force than they had hitherto been able to raise. The course of war during 1820 was on the whole favourable to them. In November, an armistice for six months was concluded. Soon after the renewal of hostilities, an important victory was gained by the Columbian troops under Bolivar, at Carabobo, not far from the city of Valencia, June 21, 1821, which may be regarded as having closed the war in Venezuela. Before the end of the year, Columbia was nearly cleared of Spanish troops, with the exception of the province of Quito; and time was found to attend to the establishment of civil order. The constitution of the short-lived Columbian Republic was adopted, August 20, 1821, and Bolivar was appointed First Constitutional President.
The war was then directed against the Spaniards in the south. In January, 1822, Bolivar himself conducted operations in the province of Pasto, lying to the north of Quito, while General Sucre, who had been sent previously to assist the cause of independence in Guayaquil, after liberating the southern provinces of Loxa and Cuenca, advanced northwards, and secured independence to the province of Quito by the decisive victory of Pichincha, May 24, 1822. But though this portion of Columbia was now cleared of enemies, there could be no security to the frontier provinces while the Spaniards held Peru; and it was therefore determined to send assistance to the patriots in that country. Bolivar landed at Lima, September 1, 1823, and was invested with supreme power as Dictator of Peru. It was not until the end of 1825, however, that the war of independence was finished; and the honour of this, in a military point of view, belongs rather to Sucre than to Bolivar.
On the establishment of a separate republic in 1825, in the province called by the Spaniards Upper Peru, the new state paid a high compliment to the Liberator, by assuming the name of Bolivia, and requesting him to draw up a constitution for its adoption. In compliance with the wish thus expressed, he presented to the constituent congress in May, 1826, the celebrated Bolivian Code; for an account of which we must refer to the ‘Encyclopædia Americana,’ or the appendix to the ‘Memoirs of General Miller.’ This forms a remarkable era in Bolivar’s life; for, out of the institutions of this code, arose the first suspicions that the Liberator was at heart indisposed to republican institutions. It was however adopted; and Sucre was appointed President. Meanwhile, though the deliverance of Peru was completed, Bolivar showed no intention of leading home the Columbian troops. A congress summoned at Lima, in February, 1825, continued to him, for another year, the dictatorial power which he had received on his first entrance into the country. A second congress, held in 1826, adopted the same course, adding a recommendation that he should consult the provinces as to the form of government which it might be desirable to establish. The result was, that the Bolivian Code was declared to be adopted by Peru, and Bolivar himself was nominated President.
During the Liberator’s long absence in the south, the northern provinces of Columbia became involved in civil confusion. The Vice-president, General Santander, was a man of firmness and ability; but the newly-formed government wanted consistency, and that habitual respect which is paid to long recognised authority. In April, 1826, General Paez, who commanded in Venezuela, being summoned before the senate of Columbia to answer certain charges, refused obedience, trusting to the devoted attachment of the troops under his command: and to this private act of rebellion, something of a national character was given, by the accession of many in Venezuela, who disapproved of the union with New Granada, or distrusted the intentions of those who held the reins of power. At the same time, the southern departments, which had formerly composed the presidency of Quito, displayed a strong inclination to adopt the Bolivian Code. Bolivar has not escaped the suspicion of having fomented these troubles, with a view to convince all parties that tranquillity could only be secured by strengthening the executive, by appointing him Dictator of the Columbian Republic. Being recalled for the suppression of these disturbances, he quitted Lima in September, 1826, and hastened to Caracas, where, instead of punishing, he met Paez upon friendly terms, confirmed him in the office which he held, and published a general amnesty on the submission of the insurgents. The term for which he was elected President had now expired. He had been re-elected, and should have gone through the forms of taking office at the beginning of 1827; but in February, he announced his intention to resign, and retire to his estates, in consequence of the imputations of ambition cast upon him. The spring was spent by Congress in discussing this matter; and at last, June 6, it was finally determined not to accept his resignation, and a general convention was summoned to meet at Ocaña, March 2, 1828, to revise the constitution. In September, Bolivar again assumed the office of President.
Meanwhile a speedy revolution had taken place in Peru. It is no great argument of Bolivar’s purity of purpose, that, a year after the war was finished, the Columbian auxiliaries were still retained by him in Bolivia and Peru, one division being quartered in the former country, and two in the latter. Many of them were strongly attached to their general, and perhaps had no objection to becoming instruments of his ambition, so far as Peru was concerned. But when he incurred the suspicion of meditating the overthrow of the Columbian constitution, they took fire. The division quartered at Lima matured a plan of revolt, arrested their generals, who were personally attached to Bolivar, and announced to the authorities of Lima their desire to relieve the Peruvians from a constitution which had been forced upon them, and to return home to defend their own country. Hereupon, in concurrence with the generally declared wish of the people throughout Peru, the Bolivian Code was thrown aside only a few weeks after it had been adopted; and in June, 1827, a new congress was summoned, and a new President and Vice-president of the republic were elected. The troops embarked; but on their landing in Columbia, part placed themselves under the orders of officers sent to take the command of them, and the rest were easily reduced to obedience.
The convention met at the appointed time. Bolivar opened the proceedings with an address, in which he ascribed the internal troubles of Columbia to the want of sufficient power in the executive department, and plainly intimated his opinion that the constitution had been founded on views too liberal to be adapted to the state of society existing in that country. His speech was very much in accordance with the views developed in the Bolivian Code, and furnished good reason for believing that he was no less willing to accept supreme power than his friends were disposed to invest him with it, as the only remedy for existing evils. The majority of the convention, however, were suspicious of the President’s intentions. Finding themselves in a minority, his friends vacated their seats in the assembly, which being thus reduced below the number necessary to give validity to its proceedings, became virtually extinct.
In this state of things, a meeting was convened at Bogotá, June 13, of the principal civil and military residents, at which resolutions were passed investing Bolivar with the most extensive powers as Supreme Chief of Columbia. He himself was not present, but in the near neighbourhood; and on receiving intimation of these resolutions, he made a solemn entry into Bogotá, June 20, and assumed the powers thus gratuitously bestowed upon him, not, it is to be observed, by the act of the convention, or of any body authorised to interfere in any way with the existing constitution. Great dissatisfaction was felt by those who were not attached to the party of Bolivar; and in the following September, a conspiracy was organised in the garrison of Bogotá, to which the President’s life had nearly fallen a sacrifice. It was quelled however. General Santander, the Vice-president, was accused of being concerned in it, and was banished from Columbia. Partial insurrections subsequently broke out in various places. Towards the close of 1829, the discontent which had formerly appeared in Venezuela, manifested itself more decidedly. Paez put himself at the head of the dissatisfied party; and in a very short time, the whole province raised the standard of independence, and expressed its determination to be merged no longer in the Columbian Republic. In the midst of these tumults, Bolivar resolved at length to retire from the eminent station in which he had been the cause of so much offence. He had issued a proclamation, December 24, 1828, summoning a convention in January, 1830, to frame a new permanent constitution for Columbia. It met at the appointed time. Bolivar, in opening the deliberations, expressed his determination not to accept again the chief magistracy of the state; but, as he had said the same thing in equally strong terms before, nobody paid much attention to the declaration. This time, however, he adhered to it. Besides the labour of making a new constitution, the convention had to discuss the difficult question of the secession of Venezuela: nor was this all, for as that district had separated itself from the Columbian Republic, in a great degree Owing to its distrust of Bolivar, so the southern provinces refused to acknowledge the new constitution unless he were placed at its head. The convention wisely resolved, with respect to Venezuela, that every peaceful method should be tried to prevent its secession, but that it would not be expedient or proper to attempt to maintain the union by force. To anticipate a little the order of time, the Venezuelans were resolved to have an independent government; and finally, in 1832, the short-lived republic of Columbia was divided into three, bearing respectively the titles of Venezuela, New Granada, and the Republic of the Equator, which was formed out of the southern provinces of Quito, Guayaquil, and Assuai.
After the adoption of the new constitution of 1830, Bolivar retired to the province of Carthagena, exhausted both in body and mind. He died at Santa Martha, December 17, 1830, leaving a character on the merits of which it is difficult to pronounce a decided opinion. His name will not soon be forgotten, for it is indissolubly connected with the cause of independence in South America: but, in reviewing the progress and prospects of North and South America, it is impossible not to remark Bolivar’s inferiority to Washington, both in talent and virtue, and not to reflect with regret how different, in all probability, the conduct and the prosperity of the South American republics would have been if they had possessed such a leader as the first President of the United States.
The chief books which have been consulted for this sketch have been the ‘Annual Register,’ General Ducoudray Holstein’s ‘Memoirs of Bolivar,’ a work evidently written under strong feelings of personal hostility, the article Bolivar in the ‘Encyclopædia Americana,’ and a short account of the Liberator in the ‘Memoirs of General Miller.’ In these works there is so much discrepancy, not only of opinions, but of facts and dates, that we do not venture to hope that we have escaped errors. A clear and impartial history of the war of independence is still a desideratum.
_Engraved by J. Posselwhite._
ARKWRIGHT.
_From a Picture by Wright of Derby._
Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._
]
ARKWRIGHT.
In the history of trade there is nothing so remarkable as the rapid and immense increase of the British cotton manufacture during the last thirty years of the eighteenth century. Two nearly contemporaneous discoveries concurred to produce that increase: the invention of machinery for spinning; and the improvement, we might almost say completion, of the steam-engine by James Watt. To his eminent merits we have borne our testimony in the first volume of this work; and scarcely less important, though less imposing, have been the services of the ingenious men who contrived to spin thread without the use of the human hand. We do not hesitate to take Arkwright as the representative of those who wrought this great revolution in our manufacturing system, for though recent evidence has refuted his claim to the invention, properly speaking, of spinning by machinery, he was the first person who rendered that invention profitable.
By the year 1760, the manufacture of cotton goods, which had been increasing slowly from the beginning of the century, had attained considerable importance. In 1764, the declared value of British cotton goods exported was upwards of 200,000_l._, having increased tenfold within forty or fifty years. At this period the demand for them exceeded the supply, in consequence of the difficulty of obtaining a sufficient quantity of yarn for weaving. The one-thread spinning-wheel, now nearly banished from our cottages, was then the sole source from which spun-yarn could be obtained; and the trades of spinning and weaving were commonly united in a humble manner—the man wove, while his wife and daughters spun. If this domestic supply was insufficient, the weaver had often to waste time and labour in collecting materials for his daily work. Mr. Guest states, that “it was no uncommon thing for a weaver to walk three or four miles in a morning, and call on five or six spinners, before he could collect weft to serve him for the remainder of the day; and when he wished to weave a piece in a shorter time than usual, a new ribbon or a gown was necessary to quicken the exertions of the spinner.” This check existing on the industry of the weaver, it is no wonder that mechanical ingenuity was tasked to invent a quicker way of spinning. The principle of the first plan by which this was effected may be easily explained. Suppose a ribbon placed between two horizontal cylinders which are in contact with each other; if the cylinders are made to revolve, it is evident that they will draw the ribbon onwards in the direction of their motion. Again, if the foremost end of it be presented to a second pair of similar revolving cylinders, it will be drawn through these also. If both pairs revolve with exactly the same velocity, it will pass through them unaltered; but if the second pair revolve with greater velocity than the first, there will be a certain strain on the intermediate ribbon, which, if extensible, will be stretched in the same degree that the velocity of the second pair of rollers exceeds that of the first. Now cotton, after being cleaned and carded, comes from the card in fleecy rolls, the fibres of which are laid parallel, and so made fit to spin. To reduce these to thread or yarn takes more than one operation: the first brings the _cardings_ into thick, loosely twisted threads, called _rovings_; the subsequent ones reduce the rovings into yarn fit for the loom. It is evident that both the cardings and rovings are fitted by their texture for the process of extension by rollers described above; and that they would be drawn out twofold, fourfold, or in any greater or less degree, proportionate to the difference of velocity between the first and second pair of rollers. From the second pair the thread is delivered to a spindle, which gives the due degree of twist; and it is finally wound on a bobbin: the whole being set in motion by the same mechanical power. It is evident that many spindles might be attached to, and many threads spun by, the same combination of rollers. Arkwright claimed the merit of this invention. It is proved, however, by the undeniable evidence of an existing patent, printed by Mr. Baines in his History of the Cotton Manufacture, that this principle of spinning by rollers was patented so early as the year 1738, by a foreigner named Lewis Paul; the real inventor was John Wyatt, of Birmingham. In their hands however, though the invention did not absolutely fail, it did not so succeed as to be brought into general use, or even to become profitable to the inventors. Simple and obvious as the _principle_ appears when once laid down, great difficulties were to be overcome in forming this stretched cotton into a useful thread; as may be conceived from reflecting on the great rapidity with which, to make spinning profitable, parts of the machine must move, the perfect regularity of motion requisite, and the slightness of the strain which a few untwisted filaments of cotton will bear. For the apparently trivial object of producing a uniform line of fine yarn, the utmost efforts of mechanical ingenuity have been called forth, and some of the most beautiful, delicate, and powerful machinery in existence has been constructed. It was in overcoming these difficulties that the talent or perseverance of Paul and Wyatt failed; the merit of conquering them, and giving birth to a new system of manufacture, belongs to Arkwright. We quote the following notice of his early life from Mr. Baines:—
“Richard Arkwright rose by the force of his natural talents from a very humble condition in society. He was born at Preston, December 23, 1732, of poor parents. Being the youngest of thirteen children, his parents could only afford to give him an education of the humblest kind, and he was scarcely able to write. He was brought up to the trade of a barber, at Kirkham and Preston, and established himself in that business at Bolton, in 1760. Having become possessed of a chemical process for dyeing human hair, which in that day, when wigs were universal, was of considerable value, he travelled about collecting hair, and again disposing of it when dyed. In 1761, he married a wife from Leigh, and the connexions he thus formed in that town are supposed to have afterwards brought him acquainted with Highs’s experiments in making spinning machines. He himself manifested a strong bent for experiments in mechanics, which he is stated to have followed with so much devotedness as to have neglected his business and injured his circumstances. His natural disposition was ardent, enterprising, and stubbornly persevering; his mind was as coarse as it was bold and active, and his manners were rough and unpleasing.”
In the course of his travels in 1767, he fell in with a clockmaker, named Kay, at Warrington, whom he employed as a workman in prosecuting some of his mechanical experiments. Kay, according to his own account, gave Arkwright some description of a machine contrived by one Highs, for spinning by rollers. It is certain that from thenceforward Arkwright abandoned his former pursuits, and applied himself, in conjunction with Kay, to the construction of a spinning machine. One Smalley, a liquor-merchant of Preston, assisted him with money; and the two, fearing lest they might be endangered by a riotous spirit which had been directed against machinery in Lancashire, went to settle at Nottingham. There Arkwright obtained an introduction to Messrs. Need and Strutt, two gentlemen largely engaged in the stocking manufactory, who appreciated his talents, and entered into partnership with him. What became of Mr. Smalley we do not hear. Arkwright took out a patent for his invention, which was enrolled, July 15, 1769. The partners erected a mill near Nottingham, which was turned by horse-power: but this was soon superseded by a much larger establishment at Cromford in Derbyshire, on the river Derwent, in which water-power was applied for the first time to the purpose of spinning; and from that circumstance Arkwright’s machine was called the _water-frame_.
As the difficulty of meeting the weavers’ demand for yarn had led to the invention of machines for spinning, so the rapid manufacture of yarn rendered it indispensable to facilitate the prior operations in preparing the raw material. Men’s minds had been turned to this object for some time. The operation of carding, whether wool or cotton, was at first done with hand-cards of small size. The first improvement was the invention of stock-cards, one of which was fixed, and the other held in the hand, or afterwards suspended from above, so that the workman could manage a much larger card, and prepare more cotton in a given time. The next and main improvement was placing cards lengthways upon a cylinder, which worked within a concave half cylinder of the same diameter. This process was patented by Paul in 1748. But he derived no profit from this, any more than from his former patent; and it was not until after the improvements in spinning that the method of carding by cylinders was brought into use. Arkwright was not the first to revive it, but he had a great share in perfecting the carding machinery when it had been revived. The raw cotton being carded, an extension, or rather a new application, of the principle of spinning by rollers converted the cardings into rovings, which again were made into yarn fit for the loom by the water-frame, or, as it is now called in an improved form, the _throstle_. Arkwright took out his second patent, December 16, 1775; this included the carding machine, drawing-frame, and roving-frame, a series of engines by which the cotton, from its raw state, was rendered fit for the last process of spinning. We shall not attempt to explain the construction of these elaborate machines, which can hardly be rendered intelligible even by the help of numerous plates.
The process of turning cotton-wool into thread by machinery was thus completed. Before we follow its effects upon Arkwright’s fortunes, it is proper to say a few words concerning other improvements. About, or somewhat earlier than, the time when Arkwright’s attention was first turned to spinning, a weaver named James Hargreaves, of Stand Hill, near Blackburn, invented a machine by which, according to the terms of the patent, sixteen or more threads might be spun by one person at the same time. This is the machine so well known under the name of the _spinning-jenny_. Hargreaves’ patent was invaded, and invalidated on technical grounds; so that his machine came rapidly into general use, and for spinning the _weft_ was preferred to Arkwright’s water-frame, from which it was entirely different in principle. Samuel Crompton, an ingenious weaver resident near Bolton, between the years 1774 and 1779, tried to unite the principles of both, and produced a machine which, on that account, he called a _mule_. This, under different improved forms, is the machine now generally used in spinning; but the water-frame, or throstle, is still found to answer best for some kinds of work[11]. But to return to the fortunes of Arkwright: the series of machines which he invented or improved gave an amazing impulse to the cotton trade. “Weavers could now obtain an unlimited quantity of yarn at a reasonable price; manufacturers could use warps of cotton, which were much cheaper than the linen warps formerly used. Cotton fabrics could be sold lower than had ever before been known. The demand for them consequently increased. The shuttle flew with fresh energy, and the weavers earned immoderately high wages. Spinning-mills were erected to supply the requisite quantity of yarn. The fame of Arkwright resounded through the land, and capitalists flocked to him to buy his patent machines, or permission to use them.” * * *
Footnote 11:
A third person has been mentioned as the inventor both of the jenny
and of roller-spinning, Thomas Highs, of Leigh, above-mentioned, whose
claims seem entitled to more courteous notice than they have met with
in the Edinburgh Review. There is nothing unreasonable in supposing
that both Highs and Arkwright may have heard of Wyatt’s method of
spinning by rollers, which was practised in two factories, one erected
at Birmingham, the other at Nottingham.
“The factory system in England takes its rise from this period. Hitherto the cotton manufacture had been carried on almost entirely in the houses of the workmen: the hand or stock-cards, the spinning-wheel, and the loom, required no larger apartment than that of a cottage. A spinning-jenny of small size might also be used in a cottage, and in many instances was so used; when the number of spindles was considerably increased, adjacent workshops were used. But the water-frame, the carding-engine, and the other machines which Arkwright brought out in a finished state, required both more space than could be found in a cottage, and more power than could be applied by the human arm. Their weight also made it necessary to place them in strongly-built mills, and they could not be advantageously turned by any power then known but that of water.”
“The use of machinery was accompanied by a greater division of labour than existed in the primitive state of the manufacture; the material went through many more processes, and of course the loss of time and the risk of waste would have been much increased, if its removal from house to house at every stage of the manufacture had been necessary. It became obvious that there were several important advantages in carrying on the numerous operations of an extensive manufacture in the same building. Where water-power was required, it was economy to build one mill, and put up one water-wheel, rather than several. This arrangement also enabled the master-spinner himself to superintend every stage of the manufacture; it gave him a greater security against the wasteful or fraudulent consumption of the material; it saved time in the transference of the work from hand to hand; and it prevented the extreme inconvenience which would have resulted from the failure of one class of workmen to perform their part, when several other classes of workmen were dependent upon them. Another circumstance which made it advantageous to have a large number of machines in one manufactory was, that mechanics must be employed on the spot to construct and repair the machinery, and that their time could not be fully occupied with only a few machines.”
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The Gallery of Portraits: with Memoirs. Volume 5 (of 7)Chapter IX: Part 9
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