The Press. — London, England, 1855-05-26 00:00:00

MAY 26, 1855. truth he has everything to gain and nothing to lose by the most rigid investigation, for his " property " in that case would be greatly en hanced in value, whilst his honour would be cleared. At all events he must lie under no mistake as to the literary opinion of this country. It declares his story to be incredi ble, and the book itself to bear no greater resemblance to the genuine novels of Scott than one of Richardson's spectral dramas bears to the Hamlet or Macbeth of Shake speare. It is supposed that " Moredun " was one of the earliest prose compositions of Scott, and that it was in existence at the same time as " Waverley ;" yet the book itself supplies evidence that it must have been written after " Ivanhoe." The following passage, for example, contains a direct reference to the Robin Hood portion of that novel : As the acclamations of the crowd were again rising when an English archer sent his shaft right into the centre of the bull's eye, one of the " lads in green," who had been remarked by Wilburn and Boynton earlier in the day. fought his way through the crowd, entered the lists ; and after bowing respectfully towards the royal stand, selected an arrow from his quiver, poised it carefully, placed it on its rest, and seemingly without much effort, and with an appearance of peat indifference, drew it to its head, and sent it right upon the last shot arrow, cleav ing it in two. In the midst of the deafening shouts which arose on the performance of this feat, the other " green man," following the example of his companion, took aim with the same careless bearing, and in his turn split the shaft of his brother-in-arms. " Who are those young men, brother of Scotland ?" John said, addressing King William ; "they are wondrous like some of those fellows of She woods forest to whom my brother of valiant memory was foolish enough to grant an wlssesty." The passage is a fair sample of the coarse and clumsy imitation—not of Scott's style only, but of his incidents, characters, and even names—adopted throughout the book. Be cause Lockaley " notches the shaft " of Hubert the feat is in this book performed twice over. Let the reader compare this scene in " More dun " with the parallel passage in " Ivanhoe," and then say if " Moredun " does not appear to be one of the most impudent imitations ever attempted to be palmed on the public as a genuine work. If written before " Ivanhoe," what does the reference to Richard's dealings with the fellows of Sherwood Forest mean ? If written subsequently, is it credible that Scott would have repeated himself—a practice entirely foreign to his original genius—in so palpable a manner? The same direct imitation prevails through out. Because Rebecca describes the siege of the castle to Ivanhoe from the loophole of a turret, "Deborah," while tending the wounded Sir Henry, "looked out at the opening " of the rock which served for a casement," and describes the supernatural occurrences of an impossible storm : Oh, what a sight! Oh, Sir Henry de Hastings, conld'st thou but rise to view this ! such a rainbow—such a black• nes3 within it, and such lightnings! Hark to the roar of these waves, as they rise and rush in amongst the rocks : —there, again, they recede, carrying even some of the masses with them. Oh, Sir Knight; but this is fearful. There, again, they rise, &c. &c. _ _ As Ring Richard travels disguised in black armour in " Ivanhoe," King John in this romance is represented in " a desolate part of " the country," as " a knight in black armour " with his visor closed." The style of allusion is not the style of Scott, who does not, that we recollect, make reference to continental scenes he had never visited. Here we meet with several passages of this kind : To the south and west the town resembled the fantastic rocks of the Simplon rising out of the glaciers, and lighted up here and there by the torches of exploring travellers. In other instances the allusions are too modern for the period assigned as the com position of this novel. It is unlikely that Scott would have made the pointed allusion to the" sect of philosophers, the geologists," which we find at ii. 230, and still less likely that he would have made the reference to " the safety `• valve," which we find at iii. 241. On these minute points, however, we lay no stress, though attentive examination of them might, perhaps, furnish demonstrative proof that the novel could not have been written at the date assigned to it. We rely on the general scope of the work, which bears not the least resemblance to the distinctness and spirit of THE ?ItESS. Scott's narrative. The story is confused to the lust degree, and the incidents crowded toge ther in defiance of all probability, and in direct opposition to that nervous and vivid style of representation which Scott retained to the last. In a word, we conceive that a more bungling, and, on the whole, unsuccess ful attempt to imitate the manner of a great author has never been put forth in a published shape. Of other novels recently published we notice Edith Vernon,: which gives us the impression of its being the first attempt of an inexperienced writer. The style is better than the story Some descriptive passages are penned with great distinctness, as the notice of the village churchyard (ii., 127 81, and we continually meet with indications of an observant and thoughtful mind, as in the following reflection on the strength of those attachments conceived in mature age : Those emotions which are excited in any individual in the autumn of life are peculiarly powerful, and their thoughts are liable, when once disturbed, to return no more to their former channel. A man of middle age who loves for the first time has reason added to the force of passion. With him it is far more than a sentiment. His thoughts and feelings, thus awakened in mature age, gather strength and durability from increased years and unfolded energies. There is less of wild passion, but there is a proportionate endurance, that makes love when felt thus late in life to know no ebb or flow, to be proof against change. It argues that the feelings have lost none of their force from having been widely scattered, but that the narrow channel has worn for itself a course so deep, that the stream is sup plied from a source so plentiful and unused, that life and energy are centred there ; and in disturbing or checking its progress you hazard life and reason. Youth flies from one object to another—there is hope in its bright future—there is time in advance—there are a variety of calls on the dif ferent passions —and, though disappointment may be keenly felt, still there is nothing that precludes our trying the enjoyment there may be in store. But the talc itself is destitute of all kind of artistical proportion. The heroine is twice married and twice NI idowed in the narrative; her trials conduce to no result. She had better have been left as Lady Fernmore, with her jointure of 10,0001. a year, than have been wedded a second time only to follow her husband to the grave. It is strange that a writer, evidently possessing so much intelli genre and feeling, should not have been more successful in the construction of a story. Other novels on our list we must reseve for a future notice. Narrative of a Campaign in the Crimea. By Lieutenant George S. Peard. London : Bentley. WE have had several accounts of the Crimean campaign from amateur pens, and the periodical correspondence of the newspapers supplies in great measure all the information which the public might wish generally to ob twin ; but a plain straightforward narrative by an officer who started with the expedition and served throughout the winter in the trenches is, after all, but slightly shorn of its interest by the more lively sketches of amateurs. An amateur either sees things all couleur de rose or refuses to allow any couleur to exist at all, and hence few of us are inclined to believe implicitly everything which he relates. We are always glad to hear what the professional man has to say upon the same subject ; but no one after reading Lieutenant Peard's un assuming narrative will hesitate to acknow ledge the thorough truthfulness which has cha racterised the accounts hitherto given either of the sufferings or deeds of the army. Lieutenant Peard sailed with his regiment in July 1854, reaching Beicos in sixteen days, where they remained for nearly two months, encamped on the Asiatic shore, whence they sailed for Varna, and from thence on the Sth of September started on the great expedition to the Crimea. The embarkation and landing of the army are described in a few lines ; and the description of the first morning's march, under a broiling sun, and with no water at hand, is told with the impressive simplicity of truth : It was nine o'clock before the whole of the army was prepared to march, being delayed b, the inadequate transport provided for the stores, baggage, d:c. Many of our men fell down in the ranks, attacked by cholera, or from be. coming faint and exhausted for want of water. If they recovered shortly, they followed us, with the rear guard; but if not, they were left to the tender mercies of any 2 Edith Vernon. London passer-by. It was certainly much to be lamented that we had no ambulance-waggons for these poor sick fellows, who fell out on the march ; for had they been carried a mile or two, or had a drink of water, 1 have no doubt half of them would have rejoined their oompanies. Ambulance• carts ought surely to have attended each brigade, and each should have carried some medicine, particularly where the cholera was likely to affect the army. The medical off• cers in general carried a small bottle of brandy and flask of water, which they gave the men, and were thus enabled to do much good. Some of our poor fellows actually came to me, and ou their knees besought me for a drink out of my flask; and 1 am happy to say that I managed to relieve a few of them. I found in our brigade that the men of the other regiments fell out almost ten to our one. After a day's march like this, the fortune of war picks out our lieutenant, just as he had washed and composed himself to rest, " to go " on outlying picket and visit the sentries " every hour during the night." Not a plea sant duty, he remarks, after so hard a day's march under a broiling sun. The battle of Alma, and the famous, or rather unlucky, flank march, are very well and fully described. The same want of ambulance-waggons is ex perienced here:— In the bushes by the roadside lay many dead and dying, who had suffered from the chill of the night, the morning dew, and the broiling sun. A wounded Turk, with folded arms, which clasped his firelock, gazed at us with ghastly countenance, whereon was written agony ; and the groans of those still unrelieved by death came piercingly into our ears. What assistance could we render ? The cry of the physicians was, " We have no physic for them." While halting for the night in the valley of the Black River an amusing surprise took place : An hour before sunset we arrived at the Rlack River, and just as we had taken up our position for the night we were alarmed by the err, " Here they come !" Seeing numbers of soldiers rushing to their respective corps, both French and English, our gallant commander imme diately faced us in the direction of the as yet invisible enemy, and prepared for an attack. But it turned out that our men and the French had wandered np on the hills to some village gardens, and the Tartan had come out and chased them with broomsticks, in a most suc cesful manner. The retreat of a fat officer amused us much. Tho anxiety manifested by all ranks to assault Sebastopol is admitted by the narrator, but he allows that even had the assault been successful we could scarcely hope to have held the position an hour. The extraordinary confidence which every one, from the Com mander•in•Chief downwards, felt in the sue- cess of the first b the engineers : is thrown upon Our Engineers and Artillery led us to expect great things, and we placed implicit faith in their statement that the place would fall in a week. They also spoke moat disparagingly of the Russian artillery, which was then sup posed to be in an infamous state. We however found out that this was a great mistake ; their fire might have been rather wide at first, before getting the range, bnt when the elevation and distance of some of their shots are taken into consideration they were wonderfully precise. Shortly after the tire commenced, that of our gallant allies was heard playing away in right good earnest, and a tremendous roll of cannon, like a perpetual peal of thun der, burst on our ears from our noble fleet. It was, how ever, impossible to discern anything, from the dense smoke which floated over the town. So constant was the fire, and so good the practice, that it was a matter of some danger to look over the parapet. Great reliance was placed in our wooden walls, and the greatest enthusiasm was heard when they first opened their tremendous broad side. We were almost smothered by the dust and sand which was flying on all shies, and the earth seemed to tremble. The activity displayed by our artillerymen arid sailors was most wonderful, their guns being loaded and fired as fast as it wasipossible to do so. An awful explosion shortly afterwards ensued, and our parapets were crowned wi•.h men waving their hands and caps and giving hearty cheers. It was reported that a Russian magazine on the left had been blown up; but it turned out, after all our enthusiasm, to have belonged to the French, which was a very mortifying disappointment to us. After this sad catastrophe their batteries were almost silenced, having received great damage from the Flagstaff work which was opposed to them. Just at this moment poor Dr. O'Leary, of the 6Sth, who was sitting on the outer end of a traverse with another officer and man, where there was a cross fire, was com pletely blown away by a shot, and it was some little time before his body was found. The man had his legs out off, but the other officer fortunately escaped. I had been speaking to poor O'Leary ten minutes before. At this time the trenches presented a scene of horror and con fusion. Here and there amputations were going on, and the groans of the sufferers were frightful. K was busily engaged in filling shaft for use, and seemed quite an adept at his new occupation. Oar sailors and artillery. men served their guns so fast that at eight a.m. we had hardly any ammunition remaining, and the batteries were nearly silent. This was truly disheartening, and the Russians were firing away almost as hard as ever. Our guns were only fired at intervals, about one shot every ten minutes. The het, I believe, was that the magazines were not large enough for the undettakthg, and it Val lattlOSt