The Press. — London, England, 1855-12-01 00:00:00

- 1148 connected with one-half of its proudest families. He began his public career as a journalist, in 1847, editing the Risorgintento, the most ably conducted, but most Conserva tive, of the constitutional papers. At that time, and during he crisis of 1848.9, he made himself—merely on account of rather imperious, absolute manners—somewhat ob noxious u a Codiao (pig-tailed retrogradist); but he bad sense enough to perceive that a free State must needs be ruled by its true aristocracy; that is, that either the nobility must put forth new abilities, and strive, as it always will do, to keep its place by real merit, or must ac quiesce and see the power pass into the hands of " better men." The army, the Court, and diplomacy had always been matters of strict monopoly. This evil Cavour at tempted to remedy, by adopting the revolutionary maxim, "to new measures new men." The aristocracy, we repeat —that is, the class born with the advantages d rank and wealth—is always sure in the end to rule in every State ; but what it hitherto obtained from mere favour, it will now have to gain, in Piedmont, by sheer exertion. The most honourable career must equally be open to all talent. We must now take our leave of M. Gallenga —merely adding, that by our opening remarks we by no means wish to detract from the very great merit and usefulness of the work he has produced. If deficient in some of the essen tials of history, and betraying to some extent want of judgment in its proportions, it is still a most interesting book, and probably the best manual that exists on the early condition of North Italy and Savoy. The Story of the Campaign of Sebastopol. By Lieutenant-Colonel E. Bruce Hamley. London : Blackwoods. To many of our readers this narrative will be familiar, from having been published in Blackwood's Magazine ; but no adequate idea of is excellence, as a whole, can be gained from the perusal of it in detached portions. " The Story of the Campaign "is now complete, from the first landing of the allies in the Crimea to the fall of Sebastopol, and it is a story which must for ever exercise a dreadful fascination over the minds of men. The siege compre hended a whole war in itself, and perhaps may comprehend also the issues of a war. Colonel Hamley had the most favorable opportunities for observation. On the staff of the artillery from the first, and subsequently aide-de-camp to Sir Richard Dacres, he took a leading part in all the actions and opera tions of the campaign. No person could be better situated for observing and collecting facts , and this circumstance, together with the intrinsic merits of the book, render it unlikely that this, the first record of the campaign, will ever be exceeded in authority, or surpassed in interest. The reader who takes up this narrative fresh from the perusal of the newspaper cor respondence from the Crimea, will be most struck, we think, with its solidity. Nothing appears to be written for effect. All the leading facts essential to a true comprehen sion of the events of the campaign stand boldly forth ; and these events, following each other as they do in natural sequence, make the most careless reader understand the significance of each incident, and how closely one is related to another. We scarcely know any writer who is at once so grave and graphic as Colonel Hamley—so extremely unpretend ing, yet so thoroughly impressive. It appears wonderful that a narrative written in detached portions, as time and opportunity served, should read like a well-considered and finished history. But there was a kind of dramatic unity in the siege which is stamped upon this chronicle of it. Every page is impressed with such a character of truth as would assure us of its perfect authenticity, even if that were not guaranteed by the author's name. Nor does he confine himself to mere facts. The commencement of the third chapter (page 17) lucidly explains the peculiar cha racter of the campaign. The fleet served the allies as a moveable depot, and enabled them to advance with their eptire force free from the necessity of maintaining lines of commu nication with their original landing-place. It is on reading this narrative complete that we are made aware how surely the allies advanced in their great enterprise, and how effectively, in spite of disparagement of their labours and infinite errors at home, they prosecuted their work. The great peril—and at one time there was great peril—to the expedition arose from the inadequacy of its strength in the first instance. Previously to Illkerroaua its fate was really doubtful. Its THE PRESS. safety was insured by that bloody victory, though its hardest trials only then began. It would appear that previous to the death of the Emperor Nicholas the Russians showed them solves more enterprising than at any subse quent time. Their seizure of the hill in front of the French position, afterwards so cele brated as the Mamelon, evinced great skill and daring, and the courage of the Russian soldiers was never so conspicuous as in holding the position they had won against the vehe ment attacks of the French troops. As the spring advanced, the immense rein forcements received by the French, and the accumulation in both camps of ammunition, gave the allies a superiority of power which steadily increased until the enemy found it vain to contend against it. On one point we should have been glad of some explanation from so competent an authority as Colonel Hamley. How was it that in every engage ment the Russian loss so immensely exceeded that of the allies? Their proportion of dead to that of the allies was commonly as three, four, and five to one. To whatever particular circumstances this disparity may be attributed, it affords an unquestionable proof of the immense advantage which skill, science, and intelligence must always have in modern war fare over mere numbers, however diligent their mechanical training may have been. The war has thus far established a great fact, that the civilised world can have nothing to dread from an empire of serfs. Russia mill never again be formidable, if the nations of Europe understand their true interests, and steadily resist the first indications of her encroach ments, whatever shape they may assume. The parts of this volume we like least are those relating to our domestic politics, which do not well accord with the author's military details. The anecdotes arc numerous, and all of value, as illustrating what may be called the principles of the campaign. The somewhat reckless pleasantry of our allies may be under stood by the following. The author is speaking of the most advanced French parallel : The riflemen here were a short time ago in the habit of diverting themselves by sticking up bottles on the parapet for their opponents to fire at. Our commanding engineer, looking through a loop-hole here one day to survey the place, found a great number of bullets striking near him, and hearing a suppressed chuckle from our worthy allies behind, he looked up, and found they had silently placed a bottle on the parapet over his head. This they considered a capital joke indeed, and wanting nothing but a bullet through the general's head to render it quite successful. Of all instances given of the inhumanity of the Russians none at all approach to their barbarous carelessness of the wounded they left behind them at Sebastopol. The allies actually did not know of the presence of these wounded until two days and nights after the Russian retreat, when the enemy sent a flag of truce to ask that their wounded might be given up to them. Of the two thousand wounded men who had been left, only five hundred remained alive when the barrack in which they had been left was entered. The author writes : The sudden revealment of the secrets of a churchyard would disclose nothing half so horrible as the spectacle of this cemetery above ground, where the dead lay in every posture of agony on and beside their beds. How was it that the flag of truce was not sent earlier? We cannot conceive that any circumstances, even of the dire necessity of war, could justify the leaving, for so long a period, these two thousand sorely-wounded men—un• tended and uncared for. The mind shrinks from the con templation of the mass of human suffering which the death-agonies of these unfortunate creatures must have presented. We strongly recommend this " Story of the Campaign" to all who would gain a just com prehension of this tremendous struggle. Of this we are perfectly sure, it is a book unlikely ever to be superseded. It will be reed by our• children's children, perhaps, even u ith stronger interest than by ourselves. Its truth is of that simple and sterling character which is sure of an immortal existence ; nor is it paying the gallant author too high a compliment to class this masterpiece of military history with the most precious of those classic records which have been bequeathed to us by the great writers of antiquity who took part in the wars they have described. 77Le Poetical Works of Augustine Argonne Philadelphia: Parry and M‘Millan. Ma. DUOANNE, we learn from the preface to this handsome volume, has intrusted to his ‘w. 0 SATURDAY, friend Mr. Lesley the charge of presenting his poetical effusions to the world, and Mr. Lesley, to insure for his friend a world-wid e reputation, has transmitted copies of the work to the English press. Mr. Duganne, in a verse on his titlepage, tells us that Songs are the spasms of the soul, and his practice is in accordance with his theory. His soul is always in a state of wonderful tumult. In the very first page it treads Ice•tesselated temples, whose dread shrines Are the upthrown vitals of extinct volcanoes. It is always being convulsed by throes, or torn by tempests, or wrapt by visions. His great theme is to glorify the " One Great Republic," the United States, and to accom plish his purpose he thinks it necessary to contrast the misery and degradation of other nations with the happiness and glory of America. We select a few stanzas which fairly represent both the verse and aim of the author. On France he looks down with infinite pity, and thus apostrophises her Em peror : Poor imbecile of France ! Lo, he would guide The Phcebus-charioz, of a nation's will, And rein the steeds of Freedom! In his pride He would o'erleap his nature, and deride The elements that raised him, and that still Are surging round him in an angry tide! He cresting them as floats some glittering boy Upon the bosom of an ocean wide! Laugh, omy soul This proud assumptions boy Would with our goddess Freedom dalliance hold, Tempting her love with his betraying gold ! Laugh, 0 my soul ! laugh loud in new-born joy— " The gods first madden whom they would destroy." Why boy ? Whatever may he the faults of Louis Napoleon, extreme youth is not among them. "Assumptions boy" must be classed, we imagine, among those figments which poets of Mr. Duganne's order are fond of em ploying. To England dreadful calamity is threatened : From Britain, from Britain, The flame shall arise To the pitiless skies! 'Tis written, 'tis written, 'Tis plain to mine eyes ; And her merchants afar off, lamenting and yearning, Shall witness the smoke of her burning. Even so ! She must taste of the woe In hut and in palace ; she'll drink of the chalice, And pour out her heart in libation To wash out her might transgression. For yo! The blood of the innocent cries ! The blood of the martyrs whom Britain hath slain Shall fall on her forehead in terrible rain. While the Old World is rent with convulsions and misfortunes, America stands " a star in " Glory's firmament," secure and tranquil One GREAT lisrustac ! great in generous souls ! Supremely great that she herself controls, Nor yokes her power to Havoc's car, To swell the Orient war. Great in her storied past ! Whose mighty deeds are mankind's Runnymedes— Whereby its freedom•charter, broad and vast, Each yearning nation reads ! Great in her present, while her flag unfurled In neutral calmness challenges the world! But yet more gloriously great That she can cast her awful power In virtues shining van ; That she may all the future dower With blessings unto man No armies fright her vales ! No battle•din assails! No hireling guards around her portals stand ! But when a stranger nation, starving, cries For succour at her hand, Oh then, in marshalled lines, Each ripening harvest shines, And glittering sheaves of golden corn arise— To conquer and o'errnn the foreign land! The reference to America feeding starving nations reminds us of the Czar's answer to the merchants of Odessa, in which he speaks of the ingratitude of the States now at war with him, who had been nourished by Russian corn. But what supplies of food should we receive from eithLr the United States or Russia if we could not pay for them? and while wo do pay for them what absurdity it is for the seller to speak of the obligations he lays the buyer under. The tradesman might as well speak of the benefits he confers on the customers who support his shop. Mr Dugaune has some poetic capacity especially for rhyme, but his absurd ideas,