The Press. — London, England, 1857-06-13 00:00:00

JUNE 13, 1857. gowns and straw bonnets, whom two elegant but simply ure'sed young women were superintending. Every voice seemed to be united in singing a certain anthem, which, notwithstanding it was written neither by Tate nor Brady, contains some of the sublimest words which were ever put together, not the worst of which are those which burst on oar ears as we entered : Every eye shall now behold Him, Robed in dreadful majesty; Those who set at nought and sold Him, Pierced and nailed Him to the tree, Deeply wailing, Shall the true Messiah see. Still following Mrs. Petulengro, we proceeded down the chancel and along the aisle; notwithstanding the singing, 1 could distinctly hear as we passed many a voice whispering, " Here come the gipsies! here come the gipsies !" I felt rather embarrassed, with a somewhat awkward dcubt as to where we were to sit ; none of the occupiers of the pews, who appeared to consist almost entirely of farmers, with their wives, sons, and daughters, opened a door to admit us. Mrs. Petulengro, however, appeared to feel not the least embarrassment, but tripped along the aisle with the greatest nonchalance. We passed under the pulpit, in which stood the clergyman in his white surplice, and reached the middle of the chnrch, where we were confronted by the sexton, dressed in long blue coat, and holding in his hand a wand. This func- tionary motioned towards the lower end of the church, where were certain benches, partly occupied by poor people and boys. Mrs. Petulengro, however, with a toss of her head, directed her course to a magnificent pew, • which was unoccupied, which she opened and entered, followed closely by Tawno Chikno, Mr. Petulengro, and myself. '1 lie sexton did not appear by any means to approve of the arrangement, and as I stood next the door laid his finger on my arm, as if to intimate that myself and companions must quit our aristocratical location. I said nothing, but directed my eyes to the clergyman, who uttered a short and expressive cough ; the sexton looked at him for a moment, and then, bowing his head, closed the door—in a moment more the musie . ceased. I took up a prayer•book, on which was engraved an earl's coronet. The clergyman uttered, " I will arise, and go to my father." England's sublime Liturgy had corn• menced. Our readers will perhaps be interested by the following sketch of a Gipsy's full-dress toilet : About midday Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro came to the dingle to pay the promised visit. Belle, at the time of their arrival, was in her tent, but I was at the fireplace, engaged in hammering part of the outer-tire, or defence, which had come off from one of the wheels of my vehicle. On per:eiving them I forthwith went to receive them. Mr. Petulengro was dressed in Roman fashion, with a somewhat smartly-cut sporting coat, the buttons of which were half•crowns—and a waistcoat, scarlet and black, the buttons of which were spaded haltguineas ; his breeches were of a stuff half velveteen, half corduroy, the cords ex. ceedingly broad. He had leggings of huff cloth, furred at the bottom ; and upon his feet were highlows. Under his left arm was a long black whalebone riding-whip, with a red lash, and an immense silver knob. Upon his head was a hat with a high peak, somewhat of the kind which the Spaniards call ca/ani, so much in favour with the bravos of Seville and Madrid. Now, when I have added that Mr. Petulengro bad on a very fine white Holland shirt, I think I have described his array. Mrs. Petu lengro—l beg pardon for not having spoken of her first — was also arrayed very much in the Roman fashion. Her hair, which was exceedingly black and lustrous, fell in braids on either side of her head. I❑ her ears were rings, with long drops of gold. Round her neck was a string of what seemed very much like very large pearls, somewhat tarnished, however, and apparently of consider- able antiquity. As in the case of many men of strong imagination and ardent intellect, this mastery of language and power of vivid description is heavily counterbalanced by the habit of violent and sweeping invective. Nothing can be more charmingly graphic than Mr. Borrow's sketches of English life--nothing more odiously exaggerated than his attacks upon English society. Tune iromenss cavipirant mendacia folles Conspuiturque sinus. He foams and raves like a madman at visionary objects of hostility. Let us take, for instance, his chapter entitled " Gentility Nonsense." Why, where have Mr. Borrow's ears been for the last twenty years not to know that the term " genteel," as well as the idea which it conveys, has long been banished to twelfth-rate boarding-schools and suburban shopboys ? He reminds us of what Johnson said of Goldsmith, that if sent abroad to report on the inventions of foreign countries. he would bring home a wheelbarrow, and think he had made a great discovery. in regard to the contempt with which Mr. Borrow tells us the English upper classes would regard the gipsy life, we totally differ from him. Just now society is rather running into the opposite extreme. Ethel Newcome,• who loved an artist, is the most popular heroine of the day. Mustachios and wide awakes attest the spread of Bohemianism in the malo l ex ; gentleunh travel by the THE PRESS. second-class when they cannot afford the first; and at Oxford and Cambridge, the supposed head-quarters of " simpering gen tility," the reign of tailors and pastrycooks is nearly at an end. Yet all this Mr. Borrow cannot and will not see, and sits growling to himself at the phantoms of bygone follies. Such conduct is foolish and uncandid ; but not worse, perhaps, than that of many another social philosopher of even higher reputation. But there is one portion of Mr. Borrow's appendix which calls for severer comment. We allude to his unmanly and spiteful attack on the memory of Sir Walter Scott. Sir Walter's character, fortunately, stands on too high a pedestal to be reached by any of the dirt which Mr. Borrow flings at him. It can but fall back upon himself; and for his own sake we advise him to lose no time in recanting. He prates a good deal about the character of a gentleman ; but he never signed his own condemnation so legibly as by this incapacity to appreciate one of the truest and noblest gentlemen which the nine teenth century has seen. The Memoirs of the Duke of Saint Simon on the Reign of Louis X IV. arid the Regency. Abridged from the French by Bayle St. John. First Series. In Two Volumes. London: Chapman and Hall. (Second Notice.) WE return to these volumes again, as this is the first occasion on which St. Simon appears in an English dress. The fairness (with some few exceptions) that pervades St. Simon's composition stamps his volumes with great value. His vision may be contracted in its range, but he looks straight at facts. Here is a testimony to the internal state of the French armies in 1706 : Our armies just now were, it must be admitted, in by no means a good condition. The generals owed their promotion to favour and fantasy. The King thought he gave them capacity when he gave them their patents. Under M. de Turenne the army bad afforded, as in a school, opportunities for young officers to learn the art of warfare, and to qualify themselves, step by step, to take command. They were promoted as they showed signs of their capacity and gave proof of their talent. Now, how ever, it was very different. Promotion was granted ac• cording to length of service, thus rendering all application and diligence unnecessary, except when M. de Louvois suggested to the King such officers as he had private rea sons for being favourable to, and whose actions he could control. He persuaded the King that it was he himself who ought to direct the armies from his cabinet. The King, flattered by this, swallowed the bait, and Louvois him self was thus enabled to govern in the name of the King. to keep the generals in leading•strings, and to fetter their ever• movement. In consequence of the way in which promotions were made, the greatest ignorance prevailed amongst all grades of officers. None knew scarcely any more than mere routine duties, and sometimes not even so much as that. We fear that in all countries, and in all ages, these complaints about military mis management have been heard. If the press had been free under Napoleon 1., what invec tives, what sarcasms, what torrid indignation would have been hurled forth against expedi tions to Spaia, and against favouritism, and the spirit of jealousy ! But we pass on to the luxurious living of the chiefs of the French army as described by St. Simon : The luxury which had inundated the army, too, where everybody wished to live as delicately as at Paris, hindered the general officers from assocating with the other officers, and in consequence from knowing and appreciating them. As a matter of course, there were no longer any delibera• tions upon the state of affairs, in which the young might profit by the counsels of the old and the army profit by the discussions of all. The young officers talked only of play and women; the old of forage and equipages; the generals spent half their time in writing costly despatches, often usedess, and sending them away by couriers. The luxury of the Court and city bad spread into the army, so that delicacies were carried there unknown formerly. No thin4 was spoken of but of hot dishes in the marches and in the detachments ; and the repasts that were carried to the trenches during sieges were not only well served, but ices and fruits were partaken of as at a fete, and a profu sion of all sorts of liqueurs. Expense ruined the officers who vied with each other in their endeavours to appear magnificent; and the things to be carried, the work to be done, quadrupled the number of domestics end grooms, who often starved. For a long time people had com plained of all this ; even those who were put to the ex penses, which ruined them ; but none dared to spend less. This is extremely interesting, and the account is confirmed by all the writers of that time. The conclusion of the pas§ago must out be omitted : 585 At last, that is to say in the spring of the following year, the King made severe rules with the object of bringing about a reform in this particular. There is no country in Europe where there are so many fine laws, or where the observance of them is of shorter durition. It often happens that in the first year all are infringed and in the second forgotten. Such was the army at this time, and we soon had abundant opportunities to note its incapacity to overcome the enemies with whom we had to contend. We should like to extract his account of the battle of Ramillies, but we prefer to give a specimen of the tone in which the social state of France is described : But to return to the year 1709. People never ceased wondering what had become of all the money of the realm. Nobody could any longer pay, because nobody was paid : the country people, overwhelmed with exactions and with valueless property, had become insolvent: trade no longer yielded anything—good faith and confidence were at an end. Thus the King had no resources, except in terror and in his unlimited power, which, boundless as it was, failed also for want of having something to take and to exercise itself upon. There was no more circulation, no means of reestablishing it. All was perishing step by step ; the realm was entirely exhausted ; the troops, even, were not paid, although no one could imagine what was done with the millions that came into the King's coffers. The unfed soldiers, disheartened too at being so badly commanded, were always unsuccessful; there was no capacity in oenerals or Ministers; no appointment except by whim or intrigue ; nothing was punished, nothing examined, nothing weighed : there was equal im• potence to sustain the war and bring about peace : all suffered, yet none dared to pot the hand to this arch, tottering as it was and ready to fall. This was the frightful state to which we were rednced, when envoys were sent into Holland to try and bring about peace. The picture is exact, faithful, and not overcharged. It was necessary to present it as it WAS, in order to explain the extremity to which we were re duced, the enormity of the concessions which the King made to obtain peace, and the visible miracle of Him who sets hounds to the seas, by which France was allowed to escape from the hands of Europe, resolved and ready to destroy her. Meanwhile the money was recoined ; and its increase to a third more than its intrinsic value, brought some profit to the King, but ruin to private people, and a disorder to trade which completed its annihilation. That is a terrible picture ; but, in justice to the old French monarchy, we must recollect that " Red Republicanism and " Monarchies of the Barricades" have chapters just as frightful, and the decline of population in France in our own days is not without signifi• cance. Sir Edward Lytton, in " Devereux," has made powerful use of the following description:— Monseigneur, arriving and returning from the opera, was assailed by the populace and by women in great numbers, crying, " Bread! Bread! " so that he wes afraid, even in the midst of his guards, who did not dare to disperse the crowd for fear of worse happening. He got away by throwing money to the people, and promising wonders ; but as the wonders did not follow, he no longer dared to go to Paris. The King hims-lf from his windows heard the people of Versailles crying aloud in the street. The discourses they held were daring and continual in the streets and public places ; they uttered complaints, sharp, and but little measured, against the Government, and even against the King's person and even exhorted each other no longer to be so enduring. sa3ing that nothing worse uld happen to them than what they suffered, dying as they were of starvation. All these scenes—and the volumes have many more of the same kind—are still more inte resting to any one who is conversant with the history of France between 1787 and 179 ti. The same passions. under different forms, and the same vacillations betweer firmness and weak ness, appear revived. In no country has the philosophy of " race" received so many exem plifications as in France. The mixture of light and serious matter in these volumes contributes to their readability, and makes them suitable for popular circula tion. They are full of lifelike strokes like the following:— That day the immense dowry was declared ; and on Sunday there was a grand ball, that is, a ball opened by a branle, which settled the order of the dancing throughout the evening. Monsenzneur the Due de liourgogne danced on this occasion for the first time ; and led off the branle with Mademoiselle. I danced also for the first time at Court. My partner was Mademoiselle de Sourches, daughter of the Grand PreiOt ; she danced excellently. I had been that morning to wait on Madame, who could not refrain from saving, in a sharp and angry voice, that I was doubtless very glad of the promise of so many balls,—that this was natural at my age; hut that, for her part, she was old and wished they were well over. There are many coarse and even gross descriptions in St. Simon. and Mr. St John has generally managed his omissions with tset. We think that the account of M. de Vendomme should have been passed over altogether; au4 the diction occasionally r ig A