Web Development and Design Foundations with HTML5 8th Edition Felke-Morris Test Bank download
Web Development and Design Foundations with HTML5 8th Edition Felke-Morris Test Bank download
https://testbankdeal.com/product/web-development-and-design-
foundations-with-html5-8th-edition-felke-morris-test-bank/
https://testbankdeal.com/product/web-development-and-design-
foundations-with-html5-8th-edition-felke-morris-solutions-manual/
https://testbankdeal.com/product/web-development-and-design-
foundations-with-html5-6th-edition-felke-morris-solutions-manual/
https://testbankdeal.com/product/web-development-and-design-
foundations-with-html5-6th-edition-terry-felke-morris-test-bank/
https://testbankdeal.com/product/using-mis-7th-edition-kroenke-
solutions-manual/
Business Statistics 1st Edition Donnelly Test Bank
https://testbankdeal.com/product/business-statistics-1st-edition-
donnelly-test-bank/
https://testbankdeal.com/product/economics-of-money-banking-and-
financial-markets-global-10th-edition-mishkin-test-bank/
https://testbankdeal.com/product/management-information-systems-3rd-
edition-rainer-test-bank/
https://testbankdeal.com/product/international-macroeconomics-4th-
edition-feenstra-test-bank/
https://testbankdeal.com/product/psychologist-as-detective-an-
introduction-to-conducting-6th-edition-smith-test-bank/
Zoology 9th Edition Miller Solutions Manual
https://testbankdeal.com/product/zoology-9th-edition-miller-solutions-
manual/
Web Development & Design Foundations with HTML5, 8th Edition
Instructor Materials Chapter 6 Test Bank
Multiple Choice. Choose the best answer.
3. The _______ is the area between the content and the border.
a. border
b. spacing
c. padding
d. none of the above
4. _________ flow displays the elements on the page in the order they appear in the
web page source code.
a. default
b. source code
c. browser
d. normal
6. The CSS to create the class called myfloat that floats to the right of the other page
content, has a 10px margin, and a solid border is:
.myfloat { float:right; margin:10px; border: 1px solid #000000; }
#myfloat { right:float: margin 10px; border: 1px solid #000000; }
.myfloat { float:right; 10px:margin; border: 1px solid #000000; }
.myfloat { float:right; margin:10px; border: on; }
7. The default value for the border property for an element is:
a. 1 pixel
b. 0 pixels
c. 3 pixels
d. 10 pixels
Page 1
Web Development & Design Foundations with HTML5, 8th Edition
Instructor Materials Chapter 6 Test Bank
10. If an element is configured with ___________ the other content on the page will
appear to its left.
a. position:left;
b. position:relative;
c. float:left;
d. float:right;
11. Which of the following configures a margin for an element with the following values:
top margin 30 pixels, left margin 150 pixels, right margin 0 pixels, and bottom margin 0
pixels?
a. margin: 150px 20px 0 300px;
b. margin:top-30, left-150, right-0, bottom-0;
c. margin:30px 0 0 150px;
d. none of the above
12. Use the ________ property along with the left, right and/or top property to precisely
configure the position of an element.
position:absolute;
position:relative;
position:float;
absolute:position;
Page 2
Web Development & Design Foundations with HTML5, 8th Edition
Instructor Materials Chapter 6 Test Bank
15. Choose the example below of a descendent selector that configures the anchor tags
with the nav element.
a. nav a
b..navigation a
c. #nav a
d. a nav
16. Select the example below that could be used to clear a right float.
a. clear: right;
b. clear: left;
c. right: clear;
d. overflow: right;
17. Select the example below that configures a container to clear all floated elements
that are within the container.
a. clear: both;
b. overflow: all;
c. overflow: auto;
d. clear: all;
18. When configuring the background color of an element, the background color is
applied to both the content and ______ areas.
a. border
b. padding
c. margin
d. extra
19. Use the _______________ property to configure an image to use as a bullet point in
an unordered list.
a. bullet-image
b. image-style
c. list-style-image
d. bullet-style-image
20. From the choices below select the correct order to code CSS pseudo-classes.
a. link, hover, visited, active
b. hover, link, active, visited
c. link, visited, hover, active
d. link, hover, active, visited
21. Set list-style-type to the value ___________ to hide the display of the list markers on
an ordered list.
a. none
b. hide
c. invisible
d. nodisplay
Page 3
Web Development & Design Foundations with HTML5, 8th Edition
Instructor Materials Chapter 6 Test Bank
22. The _______ pseudo-class configures the styles that will apply when the mouse is
on a hyperlink.
a. hover
b. click
c. active
d. over
23. The _____ pseudo-class configures the appearance of the hyperlink before it is
clicked.
24. Choose the HTML5 element below that is used to configure an area on a web page
that can stand on its own and could potentially be syndicated.
a. div
b. section
c. article
d. aside
27. Choose the example below of a descendant selector that configures the anchor tags
within the element assigned to an id named special.
a. #special a
b. .special a
c. a#special
d. special#a
28. Use ___________ positioning to configure the location of an element to remain the
same and to not move even when the web page is scrolled within the browser viewport.
a. absolute
b. static
c. relative
d. fixed
29. The CSS universal selector is indicated by which of the following symbols?
a. %
b. #
c. ?
d. *
Page 4
Web Development & Design Foundations with HTML5, 8th Edition
Instructor Materials Chapter 6 Test Bank
Answers.
1. c
2. b
3. c
4. d
5. c
6. a
7. b
8. d
9. b
10. d
11. c
12. a
13. b
14. c
15. a
16. a
17. c
18. b
19. c
20. c
21.a
22. a
23. b
24. c
25. c
Page 5
Web Development & Design Foundations with HTML5, 8th Edition
Instructor Materials Chapter 6 Test Bank
26. c
27. a
28. d
29. d
Page 6
Other documents randomly have
different content
But the more turbulent members of the so-called Hotel de Ville party
indignantly repudiated the notion of allowing their glorious
achievements to culminate in the enthronement of “another
Bourbon.” The allusions in Laffitte’s and Thiers’ placard to the
tricolour, to Valmy, and to the crown as the free gift of the people,
left them cold. Nor were they to be mollified by a second
proclamation, in which it was boldly asserted that the Duc d’Orléans
was a Valois, not a Bourbon.[4] No sooner was the Duke put forward
as a candidate for the throne, than the demagogues began to exhort
the people to call upon La Fayette to assume the presidency of the
republic. The old man was, as he had been forty years before, in
command of the national guards, and was once more the hero of the
mob. He was, however, little disposed to undertake the responsibility
which his ultra-democratic friends wished him to assume. Under
these circumstances, Rémusat and other of his colleagues in the
Chamber, assisted, it is said, by Mr. Rives, the American minister, had
little difficulty in persuading him that, were he to play the leading
part in founding a Liberal monarchy, it would be accounted,
throughout the Old and the New World, the most honourable act of
his declining years. Accordingly, on the following day, July 31, 1830,
he agreed to receive the Duc d’Orléans, the Lieutenant-General of
the Kingdom, at the Hotel de Ville. Upon his arrival he led him to the
window and, placing the tricolour in his hands, embraced him
warmly before the dense crowd upon the Place de Grève. When this
ceremony had been completed the elect of the people rode back in
triumph to the Palais Royal, exchanging enthusiastic handgrips with
citizens along the road. For the moment, even the most truculent
democrats were willing to accept La Fayette’s assurance that in an
Orleans monarchy they had found “the best of republics.” Ten days
later, on August 9, 1830, the Duke having sworn fidelity to the
Charter was formally invested with sovereign power in the Chamber
of Deputies, under the title of Louis Philippe, King of the French.
At the time of the Revolution of July Louis Philippe was in his fifty-
third year. He was the son of Egalité, and had been educated
according to the Liberal views of his father and of Madame de
Genlis. Although in 1794 he had deserted from the national armies
along with Dumouriez, his commander-in-chief, he could assert
truthfully that, throughout the long years of his subsequent exile, he
had never turned his arms against his own country. During his
wanderings in America and upon the continent, he had mixed with
men of all sorts and all conditions. In Switzerland, indeed, he is said
to have earned a livelihood by teaching in a school. In 1814 the idea
of conferring the crown upon him, rather than upon Louis XVIII.,
had found favour in some quarters. But although, from this time
forward, there had always existed some kind of a party, to which the
name of Orleanist might have been applied, the Duke himself would
appear to have been innocent of any participation in the proceedings
of his adherents.
After Waterloo the plan of substituting him for Louis XVIII. had an
increased number of supporters. Louis, who had never liked him,
began from this moment to treat him with great suspicion. Both in
England, where he continued to reside in a kind of disgrace till 1817,
and at the Palais Royal, after his return to France, he was beset
constantly by the spies of the police.[5] Charles X. had no share in
his brother’s dislike and distrust of the Duc d’Orléans, and one of his
first acts, after his accession, was to raise him to the rank of a Royal
Highness. But, notwithstanding that, from the beginning of the new
reign, more cordial relations were established between the Tuileries
and the Palais Royal, there was never any real intimacy between the
King and his sagacious relative. Charles was a man of limited
intelligence and a bigot in religion. Politically he had not changed
since the time when, as the Comte d’Artois, he had emigrated to
Coblentz, and had called upon the Powers to assist him with men
and with money to re-establish the old régime in France. The Duc
d’Orléans, on the other hand, was a well-informed man of the world,
a Liberal, who was neither a friend nor an enemy of the clergy.
It is clear that during the whole period of the Restoration the Duc
d’Orléans was at pains to impress upon the public how greatly he
differed in all matters, both great and small, from his cousins of the
elder branch. When the return of Bonaparte from Elba compelled the
Royal family to fly once more from France, he had not joined Louis
XVIII. at Ghent, but had gone to England and had resided,
throughout the Hundred Days, in complete retirement at
Twickenham. Moreover, before quitting Lille he had addressed a
farewell letter to the general officers serving under him, bidding
them act, after his departure, in whatever manner might appear to
them the most calculated to promote the highest interests of their
country—an injunction which aroused as much indignation among
the “pure Royalists” as it elicited commendation from the majority of
Frenchmen. As they grew up, his sons, the young princes, were
educated like ordinary citizens at the Lycée, and at the Palais Royal a
simplicity was observed which contrasted strongly with the ceremony
maintained, on all occasions, at the Court and in the apartments of
the Dauphin. Nor could it fail to attract remark that men whose
fidelity to the reigning dynasty was doubtful and prominent
members of the Opposition were his habitual guests.
But, although there may be some circumstances of a suspicious
nature in Louis Philippe’s conduct under the Restoration, it is
improbable that he ever seriously harboured any thoughts of
usurping the crown. His general behaviour is capable of a different
explanation. He had tasted the bitterness of poverty, and appears to
have been haunted constantly by the dread that his children might,
some day, be reduced to the straits under which he had suffered in
the early years of his exile. He was too clear-sighted a man not to
perceive that the restored monarchy had no place in the affections
of the people, and that the first serious mistake on Charles’ part
would be the signal for his overthrow. It became, therefore, his
policy to dissociate himself, as far as possible, from the Court in the
hope that, should the Bourbons be expelled, he might escape from
the necessity of sharing in their misfortunes. It is scarcely doubtful
that the true motives of his somewhat equivocal attitude, at this
period, should be ascribed to a keen desire to be allowed to remain
in possession of his great estates, whatever political changes might
take place, rather than to any deep-laid schemes of personal
aggrandizement.[6]
At the time of the promulgation of the famous ordinances of July the
Duke was with his family at Neuilly. For the past four months he had
viewed Charles’ obstinate determination to retain his ministers, in
defiance of the Chamber, with alarm. Nevertheless, the King’s coup
d’état seems to have taken him completely by surprise. His chief
endeavour, from the moment that it became apparent that the
execution of the ordinances would lead to serious trouble, was to
avoid committing himself with either party. Between Monday, July
26, the day on which the decrees were published in the Moniteur,
and Friday, July 30, when the success of the revolution was assured,
he would not appear to have had any communication with either the
Court at Saint-Cloud or the Liberal deputies in Paris. Indeed, on
Wednesday, July 28, when the fighting in the streets assumed a very
serious character, he secretly withdrew from Neuilly and went into
hiding at Le Raincy, another of his residences near Paris. Thiers, in
consequence, when he visited Neuilly on Friday morning, was unable
to see him, and it was only at last, after repeated messages had
been sent him by Laffitte and other supporters, that he ventured to
emerge from his retreat and to return secretly, and in the dead of
night, to the Palais Royal. It is said that in arriving at this decision he
was greatly influenced by his sister, henceforward to be generally
known as Madame Adelaïde, to whose opinion in political matters he
was accustomed to attach greater weight than to that of his wife,
the sweet-natured and dignified Marie Amélie.
After a few hours in Paris any doubts and hesitations with which he
may have been beset vanished completely. The old King was in full
flight from Saint Cloud, his guards even were demoralized and were
deserting him. From country towns came the news that the tricolour
had been hoisted, amidst the greatest enthusiasm, and that the
revolution was spreading rapidly. When, on that Saturday afternoon,
the Duc d’Orléans mounted his horse to meet La Fayette at the Hotel
de Ville, he was fully determined to seize the crown, which his
unfortunate kinsman had let fall into the gutter.
Legitimist historians and others, professing to write in a more
impartial spirit, have commented most adversely upon his conduct in
this, the supreme crisis of his eventful life. It must, however, be
admitted by everybody who studies the question with an open mind
that France was irrevocably resolved to expel the Bourbons. It has,
nevertheless, been contended that, had the Duc d’Orléans consented
to undertake the regency, no serious objections would have been
made to the enthronement of the Duc de Bordeaux,[7] in whose
favour Charles and the Dauphin had abdicated on August 2.
Unfortunately, however, it was notorious that this young prince was
the pupil of the Jesuits, and the prejudice against him, on that
account, was unquestionably very strong. Without doubt, had the
plan been given a trial, it must have speedily ended in disaster. In
addition to the many and great difficulties with which Louis Philippe
was confronted, during the whole course of his reign, he must, as
Regent, have been perpetually exposed to the suspicion of acting
under the inspiration of the young King’s family, and that suspicion
would quickly have proved fatal. There were, therefore, but two
alternatives, either a republic or an Orleans monarchy. Seeing the
dispositions of the continental sovereigns and the condition of
France in 1830, the proclamation of a republic, if it had not entailed
war, must certainly have produced anarchy and brought untold
misery upon the people. On the other hand, the statutory monarchy,
at the time when it was set up, had the support of the best elements
of the nation, and Louis Philippe, by accepting the crown, can justly
claim to have preserved France from the imminent danger of civil
and foreign war.
Louis Philippe was a man of more than usual courage. In his early
life he had displayed it at a critical moment upon the battlefield. In
his middle age, in his famous progress to the Hotel de Ville, he had
never hesitated to ride, without a military escort, through an armed
and hostile mob. No king has probably been the object of attacks
upon his life of so determined a character as Louis Philippe. The
ever-present danger of assassination is said to have broken down
the nerves of some of the boldest of men. But, throughout his reign,
the “citizen king” always confronted this particular peril, to which he
was so constantly exposed, with a serene and lofty courage. In the
face of political difficulties, however, he was as timid as he was
brave when it was a question of meeting physical danger. His
attitude towards the Jacobinical spirit, which the “glorious days of
July” had so greatly stimulated, is characteristic of his weakness in
this respect. It is not improbable that in his heart he was secretly
convinced of the ultimate triumph of revolutionary principles. Be that
as it may, he appears to have shrunk from attacking Jacobinism
openly and boldly. He seems to have looked upon it as a most
dangerous monster which it was advisable to coax and to humour, in
the hope that, by careful handling, it might be temporarily
subjugated.[8]
In the days which intervened between La Fayette’s acceptation of
him and his actual enthronement, he lost no opportunity of putting
his theory into practice. Youthful Republicans were admitted into his
presence, and he submitted to be questioned about his political
principles.[9] It is probable that in some of these discussions he was
induced to promise far more than he afterwards found it convenient,
or even possible, to perform. On many occasions afterwards he was,
in consequence, reminded of a more or less mythical Hotel de Ville
Programme, with the conditions of which he was accused of having
broken faith. But of all the difficulties by which he was confronted in
these early days, the demand for a vigorous foreign policy was by
far the most serious to deal with. The convinced democrats, who
had been so bitterly opposed to his enthronement, were now the
most vehement in insisting upon the adoption of a spirited course of
action abroad. Without doubt, these men represented only a small
minority of the nation, but, when they talked of military glory and of
“natural frontiers,”they appealed to sentiments which a “king of the
barricades” could not afford to disregard. It was a matter of
indifference to the demagogues of the party that the flower of the
army was in Algeria, that many of the regiments at home were
demoralized by their recent collision with the people, and that
France had neither allies nor financial credit. The war for which they
clamoured was to be conducted upon strictly revolutionary
principles. “Peace with the nations, war with the kings,” the old cry
was to be raised once more under cover of which, in former days,
France had acquired her coveted boundaries.
Apart from the question as to whether the conditions of France and
of Europe, in 1830, were such as to render it probable that a
repetition of the methods of 1793 would be attended with success,
the fact that the first shot fired on the frontiers would be the signal
for the opening of the floodgates of revolutionary propagandism,
made it of vital moment to Louis Philippe to avert the outbreak of
hostilities. In a war, having for its loudly proclaimed object the
destruction of kings, what hope could he have that his throne,
resting upon new and untried foundations, would escape the general
ruin? But although he was resolved to use every effort to maintain
the peace, it was thoroughly in accordance with his habitual practice
to cajole and flatter the faction which desired war. Accordingly, in his
replies to the numerous patriotic addresses which were presented to
him, he would dilate in fulsome language upon the heroic conduct of
the citizens in the recent street fighting. All his speeches and his
public utterances teemed with references to Valmy and Jemappes.
When the band struck up the Marseillaise, he would beat time with
his finger, “casting ecstatic glances at the tricolor like one who has
found a long-lost mistress.”[10] Yet, whilst he was thus appealing to
the revolutionary recollections and flattering the military vanity of
the people, all his thoughts were bent upon obtaining his recognition
by the great European Courts. No sooner, therefore, was he
enthroned, than he sent off emissaries, upon whose discretion he
could depend, bearing letters to his brother monarchs announcing
his accession. But in these communications, intended only for the
eyes of the sovereigns and their confidential advisers, he was careful
to speak of the “glorious revolution” as a lamentable catastrophe
which he sincerely deplored.[11]
CHAPTER II
THE POWERS AND THE CITIZEN KING
In 1830 England was still suffering acutely from the financial crisis of
five years before. The losses of the capitalists entailed distress upon
the working classes in the shape of unemployment and diminished
wages. The misery of the people led to the commission of acts of
violence and incendiarism upon a scale unparalleled in the recent
history of England. The advocates of parliamentary reform drew
their best arguments, in support of their cause, from the wretched
condition of the country. The elections, rendered necessary by the
death of George IV., began in the very week which saw France in the
throes of her revolution. By the Opposition the victory of the
Parisians was acclaimed enthusiastically as the triumph of a
neighbouring people over despotism and aristocratic privilege. The
downfall of Polignac was celebrated as a crushing blow to
Wellington. The belief that the Duke had connived at, if not directly
inspired, the French King’s attempted coup d’état, was not confined
to ignorant people, but was professed by the leaders of the Whig
party.[12] Whilst this supposed connection of Wellington with
Polignac increased the voting power of the Opposition, Tory patrons
of rotten boroughs, incensed at his Catholic policy, withheld from
him their support. The Duke returned from the elections with a
diminished majority, and one, moreover, which, such as it was, in no
way represented the real opinion of the country.
Wellington had been chiefly instrumental in effecting the restoration
of the Bourbons after Waterloo. The news of their expulsion could
not, under these circumstances, fail to cause him some personal
regret. But, in addition, he was too well acquainted with French
affairs not to be aware that the triumph of the democratic party was
a grave menace to the peace of Europe. On the other hand,
however, far from being, as was supposed, upon confidential terms
with Polignac, the French expedition to Algiers had strained seriously
the official relations which alone subsisted between them. But any
reluctance, which he and his colleagues might have entertained, to
recognizing the new régime in France, had to give way before the
popular enthusiasm which the revolution called forth throughout
England. The Duke, accordingly, lost no time in advising the King to
acknowledge Louis Philippe. It was a policy, he maintained, which
not only offered the best prospect of preserving peace, but which
would meet with the approval of all the great Powers.[13]
Consequently, when on August 22 General Baudrand arrived in
London, bringing with him a letter from Louis Philippe to William IV.,
he was accorded a good reception in ministerial circles. Although he
fancied he could detect a little coldness in Wellington’s manner, his
mission achieved a complete success. After a stay of about a week in
London he returned to Paris, taking back with him King William’s
answer together with a box ornamented with a portrait of that
monarch set in diamonds.[14] Meanwhile, on August 18, Charles X.
and the members of his family had arrived at Spithead on board The
Great Britain, the American vessel chartered by the French
government to convey them to England. The state of public feeling
made it inadvisable that they should proceed to London or even land
at Portsmouth, and they were, in consequence, taken, a few days
later, by steamer to Lulworth Castle, in Dorsetshire, which had been
prepared for their reception. The mob which had cheered exultingly
as Castlereagh’s body was borne through the streets to its last
resting-place at Westminster Abbey, which, two years later, was to
threaten Wellington with violence on the anniversary of Waterloo,
would have shown scant respect for the misfortunes of the fallen
King.
Ever since the days of her crowning disaster at Wagram, Metternich
had directed the foreign policy of Austria. Clement Wenceslas von
Metternich, Chancellor of the Court and of the State, was descended
from a family of counts of the empire and was born at Coblentz in
1773. His predecessors in office, old Kaunitz, the minister of Maria
Theresa, Thugut, Cobenyl, and Stadion, had in vain attempted to
cope with republican and imperial France. Without doubt, Metternich
in the final struggle with Bonaparte was assisted by circumstances
not of his own creation, nevertheless he unquestionably proved
himself, on many occasions, a crafty, wary adversary, who could
await his opportunity patiently. The flattery which was lavished upon
him at the peace and the prominent part which he was enabled to
play in the great territorial settlement at Vienna stimulated greatly
his natural vanity and presumption. In addition, as he grew older, he
began to indulge more and more in long philosophical disquisitions
upon every kind of political subject. But under his pedantic manner,
he retained always his alert resourcefulness and shrewd common
sense. In the words of Sir Frederick Lamb, who had transacted much
business with him, “he was far too practical a man to regulate his
conduct by his doctrines, and far too ingenious a one to be at a loss
for a doctrine to cover his conduct.”[15]
Without doubt, Metternich was a man of aristocratic and
conservative instincts, but, had he been differently disposed, the
conditions of the Empire must have rendered very difficult the
adoption of a Liberal policy. At the Congress of Vienna Austria had
renounced all claim to her former possessions in the Low Countries
and in Western Germany, and had withdrawn to the south and
south-east to exercise an uneasy dominion over Slavs and Italians.
Progress on national lines was hardly possible in an empire thus
constituted, and circumstances contributed to facilitate the
imposition of a strictly conservative system. The Liberal impulse, to
which the War of Liberation had given birth in Prussia, had no
counterpart in Austria, nor had Francis II., like Frederick William III.,
even in his darkest days, promised constitutional reforms. At the
peace, accordingly, Austria reverted uncomplainingly to her old
absolutist traditions.
In Italy Bonaparte had encouraged deliberately a spirit of nationality.
But the patriotic hopes, which he had raised, were extinguished at
the Congress of Vienna. Italy, Metternich decreed, was to be
henceforward merely “a geographical expression.” By the settlement
of 1815 Austria acquired actually the provinces of Lombardy and
Venetia, but her influence extended far beyond these districts.
Austrian princes ruled over the Duchies of Tuscany, Modena and
Parma. Treaties which provided that Piacenza, Commachio and
Ferrara should be garrisoned by Austrian troops gave her military
control of the valley of the Po. Tuscany was forbidden to make either
peace or war without her consent, and the King of Naples was
pledged to introduce no constitutional changes, other than those
sanctioned in the Austrian dominions.
In the Lombardo-Venetian Kingdom, as it was termed, it was
Metternich’s policy to make the Lombards “forget that they were
Italians.” The Austrian code of laws was introduced without regard to
native customs and prejudices. The civil service was composed
almost exclusively of Germans, and the most trifling administrative
questions had to be referred to Vienna.[16] The stagnation
engendered by this system could not fail to have a demoralizing
effect. At Venice two-fifths of the population were in receipt of
charitable relief, the middle classes were without enterprise, the
aristocracy fawned upon the Austrians. On the other hand, in
Lombardy and Venetia there were few monks and a comparatively
good system of popular education existed. The people, moreover,
enjoyed equality before the law which, except in political cases, was
justly administered. But as in all Italian States, the police were
arbitrary and interfering and the censorship of the press was
enforced rigidly.
The heterogeneous composition of the Austrian Empire, which
demanded a strictly conservative policy at home, prescribed no less
urgently the preservation of peaceful relations abroad. Since the
conclusion of the great war Metternich’s foreign policy had had no
other object than the maintenance of the status quo, by the strict
observation of existing treaties. The revolutionary spirit was the
most serious danger to the settlement of 1815. Bonaparte might be
dead or a prisoner at St. Helena, but Metternich was under no
illusion that the peril had passed away for ever. The revolutionary
monster still survived and required ceaseless watching. Only, he
conceived, by a European Confederation, ruled over by a council of
the Great Powers, could complete security be obtained against the
common enemy of all established governments. Metternich’s
combination of the Powers “for the maintenance of everything
lawfully existing,”[17] which has been held up to execration under
the name of the Holy Alliance, was an adaptation to practical politics
of the fantastic scheme, which Alexander had propounded, on
September 26, 1815, after a review of his army on the plain of
Vertus. According to the Tsar’s manifesto the relations of all
European sovereigns were in the future to be guided by the
teachings of Christ. They were to regard each other in the light of
brothers and to look upon their subjects as their children. The policy
of Metternich’s Holy Alliance was set forth in the famous preliminary
protocol of the conference of Troppau, signed, on November 19,
1820, by the plenipotentiaries of Austria, Russia, and Prussia.
“States,” it was laid down, “which have undergone a change of
government due to a revolution, the results of which affect other
States, shall cease to be members of the European Alliance. If owing
to these alterations immediate danger threaten neighbouring States,
the Powers bind themselves to bring back by force of arms the
erring State into the folds of the Alliance.”
Acting upon this principle, Austria, in 1821, invaded the Kingdom of
Naples and abolished the constitution which the Carbonari had
compelled Ferdinand to accept, whilst Bubna, the Austrian general
commanding at Milan, entered Piedmont and suppressed the
revolution which had broken out at Turin. The Tsar, Alexander, during
these operations, held an army upon the Galician frontier ready to
march into Italy, should his assistance be invoked. The same policy,
in 1823, dictated the French armed intervention in Spain, when the
constitution, which the Liberals had proclaimed three years before,
was abolished and the absolute rule of King Ferdinand VII. was
restored. But the determination of England “to abstain rigidly from
interference in the affairs of other States” deprived the alliance of
that appearance of complete unanimity which Metternich hoped
would convince the peoples of the futility of attempting revolutions.
The Greek insurrection, the quarrel between Russia and the Porte
and the conflict of national interests to which the Eastern question
gave rise, completed the work of disruption which Castlereagh and
Canning had begun.
Metternich received the news of the revolution in Paris and of the
downfall of Charles X. at Koenigswart, his country seat in Bohemia.
Ever since the termination of the Russo-Turkish war he had been
striving to re-establish the concert of the Powers and, more
especially, to place the relations of Austria and Russia upon their
former friendly footing. Deeply as Austria was interested in all
developments affecting the integrity of Turkey, greatly as Metternich
mistrusted Nicholas’ designs upon the Porte, the spread of Liberalism
constituted in his eyes an even graver danger. The Russian
government was intensely conservative and the people were little
likely to be affected by the revolutionary spirit of Western Europe.
Were a serious crisis to arise it was essential that Austria should be
in a position to look to St. Petersburg for support. A visit which
Nesselrode, the Russian Chancellor, paid to Carlsbad, in the summer
of 1830, afforded Metternich an opportunity of sounding him as to
the views of his Court, and it was upon his return from a satisfactory
interview with his old friend that he found awaiting him at
Koenigswart the first intelligence of Charles X.’s violation of the
constitution. On August 6, when the complete triumph of the
revolutionists in Paris was known to him, Metternich determined to
return at once to Vienna, making another short stay at Carlsbad
upon the way. At this, their second meeting, both statesmen affixed
their signatures to a short document, which was to acquire a certain
celebrity in the chanceries of Europe under the name of the chiffon
de Carlsbad. By this agreement the basis was established of the
policy which the absolute Powers were to adopt towards France. No
attempt would be made to interfere with her, provided that she
should abstain from seeking to infringe existing treaties and from
disturbing the internal peace of neighbouring States.[18]
Soon after Metternich’s return to Vienna, on August 26, General
Belliard arrived, bringing with him a letter from Louis Philippe to the
Emperor Francis. Some days were allowed to elapse before he was
admitted to an audience, but in the interval he had two interviews
with Metternich. The Chancellor accepted his assurances that the
King of the French would do all in his power to maintain peace at
home and abroad. At the same time, however, he gave him plainly to
understand that he had no confidence in Louis Philippe’s ability to
carry out his intentions. Both the private and the official answers of
the Emperor were coldly expressed, but they contained the definite
assurance that he had no wish to interfere with the domestic affairs
of France, in which country he sincerely desired to see tranquillity
restored. He was determined to abide by treaties, and was gratified
to learn that His Majesty, the King of the French, was animated by
the same resolution. As Metternich, on September 8, placed these
documents in Belliard’s hands he took the opportunity of impressing
upon him solemnly that his Imperial master, although he had
decided to acknowledge the sovereignty of Louis Philippe, viewed
the events which had taken place in France with the utmost
abhorrence and was convinced that the new régime could have only
a brief existence. In truth Metternich was full of apprehensions, and,
in a private letter to Nesselrode, unburdened himself of the
conviction that “the end of old Europe was fast approaching.”[19]
The Germanic Confederation had been formed with the object of
protecting Germany from external and internal dangers. The thirty-
eight States and the four free cities of which it was composed were
debarred from entering into any alliance with foreign governments
against another member of the Confederation and, in case of need,
were pledged to furnish contingents to the federal army. Austria and
Prussia, however, in order to preserve the independence of their
foreign policy, brought portions only of their territories into the
Confederation, which, in consequence, was not committed to the
defence of Hungary, Gallicia, Lombardy and Venetia, on behalf of
Austria, or to the protection of the Polish provinces of Prussia. Each
State was represented at the federal Diet at Frankfort, which
assembly was in no sense a federal parliament, but resembled rather
a conference of diplomatists, the ministers attending it being strictly
bound by the instructions furnished them by their respective Courts.
Austria and Prussia had only one vote apiece, Austria, however, held
the perpetual presidency.
Prussia in 1815 had been regarded as the champion of Liberalism.
The Constitutionalists, however, soon discovered that the hopes
which they placed in her were not destined to be realized. In the
counsels of Frederick William, the influence of Wittgenstein, the
leader of the reactionary party, and the friend of Metternich, soon
superseded that of Stein, Hardenburg and the heroes of the War of
Liberation. The conditions of the country, it must be admitted, were
hardly suitable to the immediate establishment of representative
institutions. The inhabitants of the nine provinces which, it had been
decreed at the Congress of Vienna, were to constitute the Kingdom
of Prussia, were not agreed as to the form of government under
which they desired to live. Until they had become Prussians, the
Poles of the Duchy of Posen, the Westphaliand, the Saxons, and the
Rhinelanders had existed under different codes of law and of
administration. The imposition of a uniform system upon the
kingdom was a matter of urgent necessity, and it was to
administrative measures that the Prussian government devoted its
attention exclusively in the years which followed Waterloo. It is clear
that there was no strong demand for a constitution among the mass
of the people, and Frederick William III. could listen, in
consequence, without much danger, to Metternich’s warning that
representative institutions must prove incompatible with military
strength.
Successful as he had been in persuading Frederick William to
withhold a constitution from Prussia, Metternich could not prevent
certain rulers of the minor States from complying with Article XIII. of
the Federal Act, and from establishing representative government
within their dominions. In 1816, the Liberal Duke of Saxe-Weimar
granted a constitution, and his example was followed by the Kings of
Bavaria and of Wurtemburg and the Duke of Baden. A wave of
Liberalism swept over Northern Germany. The universities were
affected profoundly by the new ideas. In their lecture-rooms,
professors denounced existing governments and harangued their
pupils in the language of demagogues. The agitation culminated, on
March 23, 1819, in the murder of the dramatist and publicist
Kotzebue, who was said to be in the pay of Russia, by Karl Sand, a
student of Jena University and a lecturer to the Burschenschaft. This
crime and an attempt to assassinate Ibell, the minister of Nassau,
gave Metternich the opportunity for which he had been waiting. In
the month of July of this same year he had an interview with
Frederick William at Teplitz, in the course of which the King promised
never to give Prussia a constitution, to place his confidence only in
ministers of the type of Bernstorff and Wittgenstein, and to sanction
such repressive measures as the Austrian Chancellor might see fit to
suggest. After a conference of the ministers of the different States at
Carlsbad, Metternich’s decrees were submitted to the Frankfort Diet,
on September 20, 1819, and adopted forthwith.
Under the provisions of the celebrated Carlsbad decrees, the ruler of
every German State was bound to appoint commissioners to
regulate the universities and to impose a censorship upon all
newspapers and matter printed within his dominions. Furthermore, a
central tribunal was established at Mainz to inquire into the doings of
the secret societies, and upon the members of this court was
conferred the power of arresting the subjects of any German
sovereign, and of demanding from any law court the production of
documents. These decrees, however, did not constitute the sum total
of Metternich’s measures of precaution. In November, 1819, he
convened a council of German ministers at Vienna, when, under the
pretext of defining the functions of the Diet, sixty-five new articles of
a repressive character were introduced into the Federal Act. The
general effect of the Vienna resolutions, as these measures were
termed, was to impose upon the Federation the duty of defending
absolutism by force of arms in small States in which the sovereigns
might prove incapable themselves of maintaining a despotic form of
government.
Metternich’s manipulation of the Diet was the great triumph of his
home policy. By converting the Federation from a combination of
States into a league of sovereigns against their own subjects, he
averted the danger that it might promote the cause of Liberalism or
of national unity. From this time forward Metternich, to all
appearance, dominated the Court and the Cabinet of Berlin, and
held in leading strings the minor princes of the Confederation.
Nevertheless, the position of Austria as a German Power was
weakening steadily. At the Congress of Vienna he had craftily
withdrawn the empire from the post of danger, and had thrust upon
Prussia the task of protecting the western flank of Germany. To his
secret satisfaction, he saw her pour out her treasure to defend the
frontier from which Austria had recoiled. He believed that by his
Carlsbad decrees and his Vienna resolutions he had rendered
national unity impossible, and had condemned Northern Germany to
the political stagnation in which the empire appeared contented to
repose. But the enlightened bureaucratic system of Prussia was
incomparably superior to that of Austria. In educational matters she
was the foremost State in Europe, and already she was drawing the
minor States into her system of internal free trade—the famous
Zollverein which was to prove so important a factor in the struggle
for Prussian hegemony and national unity. Even in 1830, acute
observers could perceive that the people were stifling within the
narrow confines of their duchies, and that, when the day of
Germany’s awakening should come, it would be to the Power
standing on guard upon the Rhine that they would look for
leadership.[20] But that hour had not yet struck, and, in the question
of the attitude to be observed towards France, after the Revolution
of July, Prussia, as was her wont, shaped her policy upon that of
Austria. The Emperor’s acknowledgment of Louis Philippe carried
with it, accordingly, Frederick William’s recognition of the King of the
French.
At St. Petersburg it was not until August 19 that any mention of the
Revolution of July was allowed to appear in the newspapers. Two
days earlier a new levy of two men in five hundred had been called
up for service in the army, all Russians had been ordered to leave
France, Frenchmen had been refused admission to Russia, and any
display of the tricolour had been forbidden. But Lord Heytesbury,[21]
the British ambassador, was informed that this increase of military
strength had no reference to French affairs, and that the recall of
Russian subjects from France was a simple measure of precaution.
[22] In the eyes of Nicholas any rising of the people against their
lawful sovereign was necessarily a highly offensive proceeding, and
in this instance it had the additional disadvantage of disturbing a
condition of affairs, the continued duration of which was very
favourable to the national policy of Russia. Under the different
governments of the Restoration an excellent understanding had
been established between the Courts of the Tuileries and of St.
Petersburg. The Eastern question, which had brought Russia to the
verge of war with England and which had interrupted the smooth
course of her relations with Vienna, had, on the contrary, drawn
France towards her. When, in the campaign of the previous year,
Constantinople had appeared to lie at the mercy of General
Diebitsch, politicians as opposed as Chateaubriand and Polignac had
been disposed to look upon the situation complacently, in the hope
that the disruption of the Turkish Empire might lead to a
readjustment of the map of Europe, which might enable France to
rectify in her favour the treaties of 1815. Furthermore, since the
intervention in Spain, in 1823, there had been little cordiality
between the Cabinets of London and Paris. This estrangement had
been intensified by the French occupation of Algiers, the one
important measure of foreign policy of the last government of the
Restoration. These circumstances rendered it very improbable that
Russia in the near future would have to confront a coalition of the
maritime Powers. But now that a new régime had been set up in
France, the possibility of that dreaded contingency would have to be
seriously considered.
In spite of the Tsar’s military preparations, Lord Heytesbury had no
fears that he proposed to attack France. Nicholas informed him that
he had directed his ambassador “to remain in Paris, but to remove
immediately from the house furnished to the Russian embassy by
the government of France.” He was constantly to hold himself in
readiness to quit Paris at an hour’s notice, and to leave at once,
should the English, the Prussian, the Austrian or the Dutch
ambassadors be compelled to depart. “En âme et en conscience he
never would consider the Duc d’Orléans in any light except that of a
usurper.” Nevertheless he had no intention of intervening, unless
France were to attempt to disseminate revolutionary doctrines in
other countries or to carry her arms beyond her frontiers.[23] In due
course Baron Atthalin arrived at St. Petersburg, bringing with him a
letter from Louis Philippe to the Tsar, and, on September 8, was
received in private audience by Nicholas. On this occasion the
question of the acknowledgment of the King of the French was
avoided, the Emperor being resolved to reserve the matter for
further consideration. But at Tsarskoye Selo, a week later, Nicholas,
whilst regretting that the British government should have so hastily
decided to recognize Louis Philippe, gave Lord Heytesbury to
understand that his own acknowledgment of the King of the French
would not be deferred much longer.[24]
In the meantime, an event had occurred which threatened seriously
to aggravate the embarrassments of the situation. The creation of
the Kingdom of the Netherlands occupied a most important place in
the territorial settlement following the overthrow of Bonaparte.
British statesmanship had been largely responsible for the union of
Belgium with Holland, and for the formation of a strong State of
secondary rank which was to act as a barrier against France. Under
Wellington’s advice the great Powers, at their own expense, erected
a line of fortresses, connected with Prussian territory upon the left
bank of the Rhine, to protect the southern frontier of the new
kingdom. From a purely military point of view the plan may have
been sound, but to propose to mould the Belgians and the Dutch
into a nation was to treat as of no account the differences of race
and of religion which divided the two peoples. The Belgians soon
began to complain that they were very inadequately represented in
all branches of the public service. Questions relating to education,
taxation, and the freedom of the press increased their discontent.
The Dutch, who could look back proudly upon two centuries of
independence, despised them as having been constantly under the
dominion of a foreign Power. In 1830 it was generally recognized
that the attempt to fuse the two peoples into one nationality had
failed. The Belgians, however, still remained loyal to the House of
Nassau and desired only administrative separation under the
reigning dynasty.
The Revolution of July in Paris created an immense excitement at
Brussels. The town was the favourite place of refuge for the political
offenders of all countries. Yet in spite of the prevailing unrest the
authorities neglected to take the most ordinary precautions against a
popular rising. A performance of Scribe’s opera, La Muette de Portici,
which treats of the insurrection of the Neapolitans against the
Spaniards, furnished the spark which was to cause the explosion.
Serious rioting began on the night of August 25, and continued
throughout the following day. The military commander appears to
have acted with a strange irresolution, and on the 28th, the
insurgents being complete masters of the town, a deputation of
notables carried a respectful address to the Hague praying for the
redress of their grievances. The next three weeks were spent in
fruitless attempts to arrange a compromise. The Prince of Orange,
who was personally popular, visited Brussels, but his efforts to solve
the question met with no success. After the failure of his eldest son’s
mission the King consented to dismiss van Maanen, the unpopular
governor of Brussels. But this concession was made too late.
Encouraged by emissaries of the revolutionary clubs in Paris, and
emboldened by the weakness of the government, the advocates of
complete separation pressed their demands with increasing violence.
At last the King ordered Prince Frederick of Orange to advance from
the camp of Vilvorde against the town. On September 23 the attack
began. The troops penetrated into the park, but failed to carry the
barricades which obstructed the streets beyond. After three days’
fighting the Prince abandoned the struggle and withdrew from the
neighbourhood of Brussels. The discomfiture of his army left King
William no alternative but to appeal for assistance to the Powers,
whilst at Brussels a provisional government declared Belgium
independent, and convened a national congress.
This attempt on the part of a neighbouring people to imitate “the
glorious days of July” was exceedingly gratifying to the republicans
and the military democratic party in Paris. Their orators and
journalists loudly declared that the revolt of the Belgians was an
opportunity both for extending the French frontiers, and for effecting
a breach in the treaties of 1815. Louis Philippe, however, was
resolved not to be drawn into an adventure of this kind. He knew
that the powers would never tolerate an invasion of the Low
Countries, and he realized that the French army was in no condition
to oppose a European coalition. Accordingly, as it was not in his
power to silence the cries for intervention or to repress the noisy
sympathy for the Belgians indulged in by a large section of the
press, he determined to give to foreign governments a practical
proof of his pacific intentions by despatching to London, as his
ambassador, the aged statesman who, sixteen years before, had
figured so conspicuously at the Congress of Vienna.
The Prince de Talleyrand was in his seventy-third year.
Notwithstanding the great services which, in 1814, he had rendered
to the cause of Legitimate Sovereignty, the Bourbons of the elder
branch had never been able to forget his conduct under the Republic
and the Empire. At the second Restoration he had been appointed
President of the Council, but had retired before the Chambre
introuvable and the Royalist reaction, and neither Louis XVIII. nor
Charles X. had given him a second opportunity of returning to office.
Upon the triumph of the popular party in July, he had promptly
placed his services at the disposal of Louis Philippe. But, in spite of
his Liberal opinions, Talleyrand retained the language, the habits,
and the appearance of a noble of the old régime. It might have been
expected that all the King’s ingenuity would have been required to
impose so fine a gentleman upon a Cabinet, which counted among
its members the democratic M. Dupont and the elder M. Dupin,
famous for his hobnailed boots and his affectations of middle-class
simplicity. Louis Philippe’s ministers, however, were agreed upon the
necessity of preserving the peace, and, when it was proposed at the
Council table that Talleyrand should be sent to London, no
opposition was made to the suggestion. Guizot, who was Minister of
the Interior at the time, supposes that those who disliked the
appointment must have stated their objections to the King in private.
[25]
testbankdeal.com