The Press. — London, England, 1854-05-20 00:00:00

M= r r 472 REMMIXIM= Le, earned the respect of the Affghans, with the displeasure of more scrupu tliticals." He liked the Affghan cha )r its manliness and independence, ontrasted favourably with that of the itanees; and ho seems to have had no dnion of the prince whom England was on the unsteady throne of Cabul. and winter he was on the alert, the horrible climate, attending to tg, and occasionally putting down ,surrections. The appointment of tone in 1841 was a blow to him. He )acted the command, and deserved it ; unmeasured way of writing and speak !.'made enemies, arid he truly said of that he knew not how to intrigue or t. It is perhaps unjust to charge lent with wilful partiality ; but had ,mmanded at Cabul in all human sty the great tragedy of 1841-42 tever have been enacted. Ominous of disturbance preceded the final )phe. All communication between the )itals was cut off ; the whole country avulsed ; Ghuzni—weakly garrisoned, invested—seemed every hour likely to 'ull news of the Cabul disaster and of :ten's death reached Candahar only on the 31st of January, 1842; but for some such tidings Nott had been long prepared. It was now on him that the honour of English arms depended, and with a confident self possession he accepted the responsibility. •The Dooranees did not long leave him in peace—" They approached the city, plundered 'the camels, cut up stragglers, impeded the ' transit of supplies, and destroyed the vil lages of friendly chiefa." Nott waited before he struck, not through hesitation, but that the blow might be decisive. On the 7th of March he sallied out with 4,000 fighting men, leaving in the city something more than half that num ber. The enemy, numbering 12,000, were beaten, chased, and scattered in every direc tion : want of cavalry alone checked the pur suit. In the interval an attempt had been made on Candahar, but it failed, though the Affghans showed both bravery and strategic skill. Henceforth the general's annoyances were fewer, though his position continued critical, with a force comparatively small and a nation in arms against him. He, however, never doubted as to the policy which he ought to adopt. Lord Ellenborough's first intention was simply to withdraw the troops from Aft' ghanintan by the most practicable route, thus confessing a British defeat. Vehement and reproachful was the general's language at what he thought a national dishonour. " I begin," he writes in July, " to be ashamed of looking "an Affghan in the face. I am ordered to " sneak away, though with my beautiful " regiments I could plant the British banner "on the banks of the Caspian." At last his .;counsels —wise because bold—prevailed. On the 22nd of July came orders to " withdraw," If he pleased, by the route of Ghuzni and Mabul. The phrase was oddly chosen, but the meaning clear; and for Nott a hint was sufficient. Instantly he prepared for this new kind of " withdrawal," which, in fact, involved an advance of several hundred miles through 6 difficult country, occupied by the tribes had " a Elphinr - .'s fr - Lord • ! ~~ _ THE PRESS. 6 =CF=!r w ‘k-4'.. more importance, the forts were destroyed, and many captives of the Anglo-Indian army rescued from slavery. Steadily, though in the face of a formidable army, the expe dition advanced on Cabul, towards which both generals were moving from different points. Pollock got there first, but was in no haste to complete his work ; for he lingered long, causing discontent among his men, and with no sensible result. It was by his coun sel, too, that the Bazaar was destroyed, the Bala Hissar (citadel) spared—an odd decision, which Nott would have exactly reversed, since the former was the resort of peaceful mer chants, the latter the stronghold of armed and hostile chiefs. But it was ruled otherwise, and no responsibility could rest on the second in command. How the victorious armies re turned to India—with what more than Oriental pomp Lord Ellenborough received them—with what stately courtesies he greeted, and well nigh overwhelmed, the homely soldier of Candahar, is told by every historian of recent events in the East. Little as these things were to Nott's taste, the sincerity and warmth of the homage could not but please him, coming from one whose intellectual capacities were worthy of his office, the only post of real greatness which the British monarchy allows to a subject. Not long was allowed for rest : the returned general received orders to pro. ceed as envoy to Lucknow—an office which, though no sinecure, is yet specially suitable, by its dignity and the easy nature of its du ties, for the reward of laborious service. Here he was installed with due magnificence, led a quiet domestic life, exercising a moderate hos pitality ; and in June, '43, ended his five years of widowhood by a second marriage. Soon his health, enfeebled by hardships, gave way; a return to England became necessary, and even this remedy failed. Nott died in Wales January, 1846, aged sixty-three. Honours of every kind attended his last years and fol lowed him to the grave. The English people could not forget their obligations to one who, in the most disastrous emergency of which Indian history makes mention, had maintained the honour of their arms with a firmness not unworthy of Clive or Wellington. The safe occupation of Candahar, and the move on Ca bul, were soldierly acts in themselves ; but their chief lustre was derived from the con trast of Elphinstone's misfortunes. Of Nott's personal character little need be said. It lay all on the surface. Exact in duty, a strict maintainer of discipline, brave in the field, yet ever holding that " fighting " was the least part of a soldier's business," considerate of his men's wants, charitable even beyond what his means warranted, and singu larly kind in the relations of domestic life, he gained the affection of many, the respect of all. His defect lay in a vehement and sarcas tic temper, of which he could not always re strain the outbreaks. Thus he made many enemies ; the more readily because in the society of India no word disparaging to any person can be spoken which is not speedily conveyed to the ears of its subject. Con scious of this failing, he professed to assume a habitual reserve in conversation which was contrary to his nature, and perhaps not very uniformly maintained. But as an officer in 4 01 d his powers were not overrated by his ; and his career will long supply 'ig example of genuine, unpretend lessful merit. Romance of Modern Rome. 2 vols. London: Bentley. of fiction is more limited this is usually the case. Several old , ve produced their regular three as yet no one story has made to become the novel of the season. 'orth reading, in the absence of works. Avowedly by a female ,tently the production of a novice imposition, but wanting that per the real required for vivid por is such a tale as a clever young might produce by applying the manner of Mrs. Marsh to the ,sects of Mrs. Radcliffe. A terrible dungeons, poison, mystery, fearful ^""'~~ ••-•••••••••• ••••• • • • •.••••,....... s.lana SATURDAY, disclosures,—figure in the tale, but the cha e racters want flesh and blood. Yet, in fair ness to the young authoress, we give some extracts that will show how she can use her pen. Here is a portrait of the Lady Adela Daltoni : As seldom happens with faces of strictly classical outline and harmony, the chief attraction of the Lady Adela's lay in the expression with which it was lighted. Her eyes, large, soft, and dark as the gazelle's, were highly intelli gent ; her cheek flushed and faded with rapidity ; her rich crimson lips quivered with the slightest emotion —you might have said, in fine, " her very body thought." She is seated now in her boudoir, a room which in all, its details bore a striking contrast to the rest of the mansion. Its walls are lofty, and hung with blue satin damask richly brocaded in silver—the curtains and rest of the drapery en aniie. The furniture is of the most delicate wood, chastely gilded, and superb mirrors surmount consoles of the purest alabaster. An ebony cabinet, beautifully inwrought with mother-of-pearl, contains a small collection of books; a harp and embroidery frame seem each to have been very lately in use, and capriciously deserted. Adela's attire is a white cashmere robe, with collar, cuffs, and facings of pale blue quilted silk. Hound her very small and swan-like throat is &bandeau of black velvet, clasped with diamond; her hair is in straight smooth bands, confined behind in a Grecian knot, giving the contour of a highly developed head. She is half sitting, half reclining on a low sofa near the window, which opened on the terrace, and admitted the perfume of a grove of orange and citron plants, and is languidly stroking a rough Skye terrier couched by her side. So abstracted is she, that she does not even turn her head when the door opens, and an old servitor enters and gives her a card ; but face, neck, and the tips of her finge rs are crimsoned wen she has read the name, and, looking up, finds Dr. Maturin standing before her. Sooth to say, the young professor is scarcely less abashed, and each, in stinctively as it were, gazed on the other in silence. Adela was the first to recover self-possession, and motion her guest to a seat. Perplexed as Maturin had been since his arrival in Home, a vision of such surpassing loveliness took him a little by surprise, and he muttered some indis tinct words of apology for the intrusion of so early a visit. Adela bowed, trembled, and looked fixedly on the ground. Under the name of Vorni, Count Rossi is characterised, and the best part of the work is the dramatic portion in which his assassi nation is described. We have a glimpse of his murderers in council:— It was between midnight and the first hour of morning that men, enveloped in large cloaks, and arriving stealthily by different routes, might be seen lurking about the ruins in the vicinity of Basino's dwelling. Dark clouds were moving heavily and rapidly across the moon ; but when, by a bright ray of light, an encounter took place, a watchword was exchanged, and the two would proceed together to the pillars before described, and disappear among the rude sta tuary in the portico. On arriving at the door a low and peculiar tap was given, and it was opened by a man who held it chained within—a pass was whispered, and a couple only at a time were allowed to enter. At the top of the stairs was a second official, and at the end of the passage a third, with each of whom a different sign was communicated. Admission was then given to the room, or gallery, that ran parallel wtth the apartments occn pied by Basino, and in which, at the time mentioned, some twenty or more might be assembled. They were seated on each side of a long table, covered with black cloth, where divers articles were arranged, the use or signification of which was not immediately evident. In the centre, and beneath the only light—a light, by-the-bye, which seemed placed there only to make darkness visible—stood, without any apparent support, a very slender but beautifully wrought silver crucifix ; whilst above and below it were a couple of daggers laid crosswise, various swords, stilettos, spring -knives, phials of different hues closely corked, two human skulls, from the apertures of which gleamed a sickly light, and amongst all lay flexible leathern lassos, like serpents guarding their prey. At the upper end of the table was a sort of throne, co vered with black, and shadowed by a canopy of enormous funereal feathers ; and there, with a cloak thrown over one shoulder, and a tightly-fitting skull-cap on his head, sat Padre Nicola Basino. He was pallid to ghastliness — his features were drawn and pinched; but still you might almost fancy pulsation visible through his closely-buttoned vest, while, from beneath the shaggy pent-house of his brow, the flashing and rolling eye proclaimed him to be in a state of fierce and angry excitement. There was a low hum as fresh members kept dropping in ; but, when the deep-toned clock from the Quirinal struck one, a thin tinkling bell was heard below, another on th e landing seemed to reply to it, and, as that ceased , Ba s i n() with a silver wand touched a gong which hung by his side, and immediately the door was bolted, and a heavy drapery dropped before it. This done, every one rose, took off his hat and mask, joined his hands together, and bent his head in reverent attention. The president then delivered a prayer, which, though short, our hand dare not transcribe; and at its close each man signed the form of the cross, and repeated rapidly but distinctly the oath—the fearful oath of Sanfedism. Again the gong sounded, and seats were resumed ; Basino alone remained standing. An Italian story and impassioned style are the merits,—old incidents and want of nature are the defects,—of " Angelo." discipline together lous " pol ratter for which con high opin placing Summer braving t everythini local insi Elphinsto had expet ht}t his tit mg had himself ti Conciliate. Governm( Nott con probabilit would ne reports o catastropl two capitf was cony closely in fall. Ful Macnaghl which had destroyed Elphinstone's force. Lord theTeldlii s po , Ellenborough supported him with hearty good- countrymen ; al will. The Governor-General had hesitated an interesting e long, perhaps too long, before his decision was ing, ter success taken; but, once taken, he knew how to carry it into effect. Nott was trusted, compli 'rented, and left unfettered by minute Angelo. A Ron instructions. On the Bth August, '42, he quitted Candahar, which he had held for L three years, ruling its people indeed with a THE supply of strong hand, yet with care and justice. season than is • Bitterly as Affghans must have treated those novelists have who came among them, both as infidels and volumes, but a invaders, no signs of exultation greeted his such a hit as to THE p Dart e. On the contrary, those who feared " Angelo "is w, rilib dl property (and these were many) wit- more powerful .., Ord- the breaking-up of his garrison with pen , it is evide . 3,71:4 ? ~. ••.b . M \ forebodings, well knowing that fluent in comp ' .40.11 L .Avegelty ni at follow. A single and short en- ception of the 77• ‘ • ti. •,..ent leered the way of the troops to traiture. It is •-.. s t - . . _ e celebrated gates were removed, gentlewoman n It h "-•' ii : ~ t i, e importance which Lord Ellenborough sentimental mi ~, "'a . or?. ed to this act is amusingly illustrated in thrilling subjec tia ti Itic I . 1 :a me correspondence. What was of Jesuit, dungec FM e•Pb -