The Press. — London, England, 1854-12-16 00:00:00

DECEMBER 16, 1854. If peace is not concluded by the end of the year, the three Powers are to deliberate without delay on the further measures to be taken. VI. Prussia is to be invited to join. VII. As to ratifications, &c. A secret article exists which, of course, was not pre sented to the House of Commons. OUR HEROES IN A HURRICANE. THE tempest of the 14th of November, with its destructive fury, may be ranked as the most sublime incident in the eventful cam paign of the Crimea. There was something else for our matchless soldiers to encounter besides fighting against the thousands of a fero cious foe. The tremendous powers of Nature —the dire artillery of the elements—were still to be arrayed against troops, whom neither the fortified heights of the Alma, nor the fearful odds at Inkermann, had daunted in their soldierly resolve. Freezing cold—a gale, up rooting trees, overthrowing waggons, and ac tually whirling men over and over like feathers —suddenly in one night assailed our gallant army, encamped on bleak hills, on the shores of the dreadful Euxine sea, which performed its owe cruel part in the horrors of that me morable day. Imagination cannot conceive a more tre mendous spectacle than our camp presented on that morning. There they were—the heroes, whose exploits were the admiration of Europe, exposed to a combination of horrors. Their tents were all blown down, the rain descended in floods, and what at first had been a furious gale rose into a blasting tor nado. Officers and men were drenched through and through. The temperature fell several degrees, and their fierce spirits, whose pulses had bounded with martial joy at the roar of the cannon, and the din of deadly strife, were half frozen, while their blood stag nated in their veins. A frowning sky was oven head. They had no dry footing to stand upon, for what had been the camp was turned into a quagmire. The tempest had put out all fires, and there, upon that awful day, stood our brave compatriots, with empty stomachs and shivering limbs, while the storm-fiend howled and thundered over their heads in all the appalling fury of his wrath. And as the hours wore on the tempest ga thered up all its force to smite our mariners upon the sea. In the landlocked bay of Bala klava, a►id along that ironbound coast, our vessels were driven against each other, and upon the rocks, with the crushing vio lence of railway collisions. Spars and masts crackled and fell with mortal effect upon some poor fellow buffetting the waves for his life, or giving his expiring energies to the rescue of some ship in peril. The angry bil lows rose around the doomed mariners, and with cruel fantasy sported with them for a few tantalising hours, mocking the long-tried skill and dauntless nerve of some valorous sea captain exerting himself to the last to save his ship and crew. And then at one swoop the roaring ocean would open its awful depths, and in an instant submerge for ever the noble vessel with its precious cargo, and still more precious freight of human souls, whelmed in the swallowing waves. If one, caring only for the sublime in nature, could have beheld that dreadful scene, he might have gazed upon such effects as no poet could dream of, or painter transfer to canvas. But how the appalling intensity of that awful drama would be heightened by recollecting the human interest of forty thousand fellow countrymen far and far away from home and fireside ! There they were with the wind and rain driving furiously against them—cold, wet, and hungry, while Nature, in her most savage mood, seemed to have turned against them and resolved upon their ruin. But, to their honour be it told, they stood up against the horrors of that dies ire with unfaltering spirit. We learn that even then they were actually anxious to he led against Sebastopol. Though the elements were let loose, their manhood THE PRESS. was still as fiercely martial amidst every cir cumstance that could deaden the emotions of ordinary men. But our heroes in the Crimea are not of ordinary mould. They are not like the serfs of despotism, flogged into skill and intoxicated into courage. They are militant freemen, with self-respect and reverence for duty. Our soldiers see before their eyes the favourite sons of the flower of the English gentry—absent from castle, park, and hall— braving the tempest as they dared the perils of the field, courting death in the service of that land of old and just renown, with whose annals many of their names are immortally identified. Ay ! truly there is one heart-cheering re flection suggested by the Crimean campaign. The old blood of England has not degene rated in its sons. Sustained hardihood under trial still continues to be the manly charac teristic of our name. We have assimilated into one great British race the stalwart prowess of the Norman and the patient spirit of the Saxon, and happily qualified the generous mixture with the freshness of the Gael. In spite of crowded factories and teeming alleys, of the depressing toil of trade, and of the corrupting influences of piles of wealth, the manhood of the land joyfully advances to the struggle against gigantic difficulties. With uncowering front it hearkens to the roar of the battle and the tempest, it mocks at certain perils, and is undismayed by the terrors of the instant, shipwreck, or the agonies of the lingering hospital. Yes! when the hurricane broke over the Crimea on the 14th of Novem ber last, Nature's spectacle was sublime in its wierd magnificence. But the hold army that braved its wrath, that beat back the multi tudinous enemy, and did not succumb to the wrath of the elements, present a sight far more sublime. The tempest has past and has done its worst. Our army survives to add to glories which shall never pass away. THE FOREIGN MERCENARIES' BILL. NEVER, since a vote of the House of Commons compelled the removal from England of WILLIAM'S Dutch Guards, has so unanimous, and, as far as we can judge, so universal a feeling of patriotic indignation pervaded the community as that which now prevails wherever the debate of Thursday night is known. The Foreigners' Enlistment Bill, as it stands, is a gratuitous insult to the English people, offered without cause or excuse, at a moment when rich and poor, Tory and Radi cal, soldier and civilian, are exerting them. selves alike to maintain inviolate the honour of that nationality which is common and dear to all. We say an insult, for Ministers thereby tell friend and enemy, France and Russia, NICHOLAS and NAPOLEON, in the face of astonished Europe, that the internal resources of this country are inadequate for its protec tion. We say a gratuitous insult, because, by the confession of all parties, no war recorded in our annals has been more popular than the presant. None has been more heartily taken up by the nation as its own ; at no time has private munificence been so largely displayed in succouring the wants of our soldiers. That there is a real lack of recruits in England %sill not be easily credited. Lancashire, whose population is principally urban and manufac turing, is perhaps less possessed with the military spirit than that of most other coun ties ; yet in Lancashire, as we personally know, operatives earning 30s. weekly by the ordinary amount of labour have left their occupations and their homes to join in the hardships of a Crimean campaign, and that, too, not ignorantly nor unthinkingly, hut with a full foreknow ledge of the nature of the service for which they volunteered. Talk, after this, of the im possibility of finding soldiers in England ! Why, if there be any momentary difficulty (though even that we doubt), let a circular be sent to the lord lieutenants of the counties, to the magistrates, to all half pay officers, to every private gentleman of influence and sta tion, to every one, in short, who can and will help on the good work. Raise the bounty, 1179 increase the pay—above all, lot promotions from the ranks be granted with no sparing hand. Depend upon it, English officers and gentlemen will not quarrel with comrades, however humble their origin, who have won their honours on the field. The conventional distinctions of peace vanish before the stern necessities of a campaign. Ceremony is a dress too cumbrous to fight in. Such measures may do something to aid the recruiting ser geant—the roused enthusiasm of the nation will, we believe, accomplish the rest. If other sources of strength can be indicated, let none be refused. Possibly we may find it expedient, next spring, when the Baltic opens, to deal less tenderly than heretofore with Russian com merce. Possibly a judicious hint about Polish independence may not be without its effect. We shall not be inclined to question too nicely, in this great life and death struggle, whether the result of our policy may be to upset a continental throne or two. Such a mishap, should it chance, is not irreparable. But that while the militia, the constitutional and customary defence of England, is sent out of the country, our strong places should be held, our barracks filled, our very towns " occupied " the word is understood in Europe—by a cut-throat rabble of German mercenaries, hired for the occasion, as in the American war, from Hesse, Baden, or Belgium, will not for an hour be endured by a proud and sensitive people. This is a matter in which reason, and what philosophers call pre judice, point the same way. Deep will be the disgust, and loud the remonstrance, among the heroes of Alma, Inkermann, and Balaklava, when it becomes known in their camp that they are henceforth to admit on terms of social quality—to fraternise with—any ragged ruffian whom despair, poverty, or a taste for brigand age, may incline to the honourable vocation of doing slaughter for hire. We shall not be misunderstood if we say that this prejudice (let those who will call it so) is supported by reason, an.l based on the deepest principles of our human nature. In the morality of almost all countries and all ages, it has been acknowledged that there are two causes, and two only, in which a man may legitimately, and with ho nour, lay down his life: that of religious truth and that of his nationality. In the most ac curate estimate of merit which man can form, the two characters—those of patriot and martyr—stand side by side, and very near one another. But if the fall of the soldier, fighting in defence of his country, abroad or at home, be invested with the sanctity which belongs to a duty conscientiously discharged, how stands it with the mercenary ? Brutal courage is his highest praise ; the consent of mankind execrates his trade ; neither pity nor glory wait upon his grave ; the very Govern ment which employs, loathes him as a neces sary evil , and, morally, he is a murderer. We can admit no difference between the ruffian who (as in Ireland not long since) undertakes for half-a-crown to shoot a person previously un known to him, and from whom he has received no quarrel, and the captain, colonel, or general, be his rank what it may, who seeks to push his fortune by slaughtering his fellow-men in a quarrel which is not that of his nation, and wherein he interferes merely as an adventurer. We contend then, first, that, as a question of expediency, no measure could be more skil fully devised for the purpose of checking the military spirit among our countrymen than that of this foreign enlistment. Next, we feel that, by this confession of weakness, the prestige of the English Government is weakened abroad ; while, after all, we shall only obtain an inferior article at the same price as we paid for the best. And, lastly, as mo ralists, we protest—vainly, it may be, but with earnest grief and indignation—against a retro grade step in morality and civilisation, a step far less worthy of us than of that enemy who intoxicates his soldiers to make them fight, and encourages his officers to stab wounded men on the ground. Let Parliament do its duty, and this miserable measure may never be suffered to disgrace our statute-book. But, if it should pass—and we can appreciate the feeling of those who find it difficult at such a moment to refuse assistance to Ministers in any form— ..•