The Press. — London, England, 1856-02-16 00:00:00

FEBRUARY 16, 1856. Of Fox the notices are very slight. Strange that any person should have treasured up in his memory such trivial recollections of a great man as these : One morning at his own house, while speaking to me of his travels, Fox could not recollect the name of a particu lar town in Holland, and was much vexed at the treache rousness of his memory. He had a dinner party that day; and, ust as he had applied the carving knife to the sirloin, the name of the town having suddenly occurred to him, he roared out exultingly, to the astonishment of the company, " Uorcutu, Ilorcum !" He one day pronounced himself to be a bad carver, and, when Mrs. Fox confirmed it, he said, " Yes, my dear, I thought you'd agree with me." The following is a little better:— On another occasion he said that the character of Macbeth was very striking and original—that at first he is al object of our pity, and that he becomes gradually worse and worse, till at last he has no virtue left except courage. This must always be the case when, as with Macbeth, weak men become wicked. Rogers, however good-natured he might be, was certainly not a large-hearted man. By his own . a , .:count he occasionally said cruel things of or to his friends : Madame de Stacl one day said to me, " How sorry I am fir Campbell! his poverty so unsettles his mind, that he cannot write." I replied," Why does he not take the situ a ion of a clerk ? he could then compose verses during his leisure hours." This answer was reckoned very cruel both by Madame de Stael and Mackintosh : but there was really kindness as well as truth in it. When literature is Vie sole business of life, it becomes a drudgery: when we are able to resort to it only at certain hours, it is a charm ing relaxation. Moore has now taken to an amusement which is very well suited to the fifth act of life—he plays cribbage every light with Mrs. Moore. On the resignatiNi of Baber, chief librarian at the British Museum, I wrote a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, urging Cary's claim to fill the vacant place. The Archbishop replied that his only reason for not giving Cary his vote was the unfortunate circum- stance of Cary having been more than once, in consequence of domestic calamities, afflicted with temporary alienation of mind. I had quite forgotten this ; and I immediately wrote again to the Archbishop, saying that I now agreed with him concerning Cary's unfitness for the situation. I also, as delicately as I could, touched on the subject to Cary himself, telling him that the place was not suited for him. He would have shown much more feeling by abstaining from " delicate " allusions to Cary on the subject. He seems to have worshipped Byron at a distance, while the noble poet made no secret of his contempt for his admirer : Byron, like Sir Walter Scott, was without any feeling for the tine arts. He accompanied me to the Pitti Palace at Florence ; but soon growing tired of looking at the pictures he sat down in a corner ; and when I called out to him, What a noble Andrea del Salto ! " the only answer I received was his muttering a passage from the " Vicar of Wakefield ":" Upon asking how he had been taught the art of a cognoscento so very E widen ly ," &c. There is littleness of mind shown in the fol lowing : Neither Moore nor myself had ever r een Byron when it was settled that he should dine at my house to meet Moore ; nor was he known by sight to Campbell, who, happening to call upon me that morning, consented to join the party. I thought it best that I alone should be in the drawitw-room when Byron entered it ; and Moore and Campbell accordingly withdrew. Soon after his arrival, they returned ; and I introduced them to him severally, naming them as Adam named the beasts. When we sat down to dinner, I asked Byron if he would take soup? "No; he never took soup."—Would he take some fish? No; he never took fish "—Presently I asked if be would eat some mutton ? "No; he never ate mutton."-1 then asked if he would take a glass of wine ? " No ; he never tasted wine."—lt was now necessary to inquire what he did eat and drink ; and the answer was, " nothing but hard biscuits and soda-water." Unfortunately, neither bird biscuits nor soda-water were at hand ; and he dined upon potatoes bruised down on his plate and drenched with vinegar. My guests stayed till very late. discussing the merits of Walter Scott and Joanna Willie. Some days after, meeting Hobhnuse, I said to him, " How long will Lord Byron persevere in his present diet?" He replied, "Just as long as you continue to notice it." I did not then know, what I now know to be a fact—that Byron, after leaving my house, had gone to a club in St. James's -street, and eaten a hearty meat supper. - - Of such trivial matter the book is mainly composed It gives us a very poor idea of Rogers's faculties; and, supposing that his conversation was (.rdinarily us weak as these specimens of it, we can well believe the editor's assertion that he did not often meet with patient listeners. The anecdotes of Porson which conclude the volume possess greater interest, and supply a graphic portrait of that learned Hottentot. THE PRESS. THE CAPTURE OF SEBASTOPOL. THE writer of Inside Sebastopol• is one of a class known to our camp in the Crimea as " T. Crs.," or travelling gents. He landed at Balaklava on the 11th of September last, and quitted it on the 18th ; and from his week's sojourn on the spot, and conversations with officers and men, conceives himself entitled to speak with authority on the events of the great siege, and in particular to " tell the true story of the repulse at the Redan on " Bth September." He is so strong on this point that he overlooks the fact that the details of that event have previously been told by more competent and experienced persons than himself. The news paper correspondents have given the world a tolerably correct version of what really took place on that eventful day ; and though this "T. U." had never published his narrative we should have been much less in the dark as to the truth than he seems to suppose. As usual with " T. Gs.," this one listened open mouthed to all the gossip he heard, and is inclined to exaggerate the worth of the information he ac quired, for no better reason than that the said "T. G." heard with his own ears and saw with his own eyes—a fair enough warrant for his own belief, but not likely to much influence the great public who have the accounts of many observers before them, and can estimate the accuracy of many ears, and the keenness of many eyes. One frank avowal in the preface indisposes us to give our ear wholly to the " T. G.'s" testimony : This book will probably pass the seas and be read by those who were companions in the rambles it describes; and perhaps some surprise may be felt that the scenes, the words, and the interlocutors of some of the dialogues have been changed. T have done this purposely. . . 1 have sometimes changed a date, or altered a commission, or moved the position of a tent, when reporting camp experiences. This means that the " T. G." has " cooked" his narrative. He might have omitted what he pleased, but why change scenes and words? II it is allowable to alter the position of tents and confuse dates, why not "go the whole animal," turn Sebastopol into Gibraltar, and describe the repulse at the Redan as having occurred a hundred years ago? What above all things we d: sire in narratives of actual experience is literal truth. If from any cause a man cannot tell this, he Fad better hold his tongue altogether, than publish garbled statements. We cannot imagine any reason why the "T. G." should not in this case have minutely and faithfully described what he saw and what he heard. His disguise must be a very thin one, if his narrative be substantially correct. The main purpose of the book seems to be to show that the British attack on the Bth September failed most disgracefully. The author is afraid that Jolla Bull will lap himself in a fool's paradise if he is not plainly told that some of his soldiers ran away on that occasion, and that others could not be induced to advance. His account is, that after the attacking column had gallantly stormed the Redan, and effected a lodgment in the work, the reserves were ordered to advance, but hung back. He represents an officer as saying : When they got half way between the trenches and the Russian works a panic seemed to seize them. They did not run away, but they stood still. We saw their officers trying to excite them by voice and gesture to advance. Some even took hold of their coats and tried to start them, as you wou'd try to start a jibbing horse. It was all in vain; they would not move. The men in the Redan could not be brought to charge—the Russian supports came on in over whelming numbem—a retreat was necessary—the force in the trenches was disorganised, and the attack failed. This is nearly all that the "T. G." has to tell. As to the officers, there is no doubt that on tbat day they nobly did their duty : If Inkermann was a soldier's victory, the Redan was the touchstone of the valour of the British officer. It is not FO unprecedented a thing as the " T. G." seem. to suppose for even British soldiers to be struck with panic. All bodies of troops are liable to an uncontrollable impulse of alarm. In this case our men seem to have been under an impression that the ground was mined, and that they would all be blown up in the moment of victory. They did not fear the Russian batteries, still less the Russian bayonets, but a hidden danger, which seemed the more terrible to their imaginations from the ob scurity in which it was involved, and their inability to vanquish it. The case against General Simpson is strongly stated here. An old officer is represented to have said:— I think the men who had twenty thousand veterans. and who yet elected to play the game•stroke of the cam paign with two thousand raw recruits, and two thousand fellows who had jibbed at the very same spot before, deserves—to be criticised by civilians. • 'wide Sebastopol. London: Chapman and Hall. 161 The author altogether rejects—we think properly —the notion that the attack was intended merely as a diversion : believe there is not an officer in the British army who doubts that if the Highlanders and the Marines, or if General Eyre's division, had stormed the Redan, it. would have been carried and held. That General Simpson did not doubt it was evident from the fact that he had the Highlanders alone in the trenches ready to assault it when it was abandoned. The author condenses in a paragraph what he states to be the opinion of all Frenchmen to whom he spoke on the subject : They will subscribe to any theory, and join in any corn pliment to the English arms; they will even politely de plore the freedom with which our generals are criticised by our press ; but they are always faithful to two impressions. The first is that " there were great faults committed on the Bth September; " the second that " if the Redan had been taken simultaneously with the Malakoff, the Russian army must have capitulated or been destroyed." This latter view—repeated more than once—is the most noticeable point in the book. The "T. G.'s" picture of " Inside Sebastopol," as it presented itself to his eye immediately after the Russian evacuation, is spiritedly written, and the report of his journey out and home may be welcome to persons who think of making a similar trip. So far we had written some weeks ago, when the bock first came before us, but circumstances pre vented the notice appearing. Now we have a sup plementary sheet sent by the author, containing a smartly written defence of himself against his critics. He still harps on the notion that John Bull must not be fondled and soothed like a baby, that he ought to be told the truth, and that as there were great faults committed on the Bth of September, it is better that we should openly proclaim them ourselves than at. tempt to hush them up and accept the equivocal compliments, "the praise undeserved which is cen sure in disguise," which our allies are willing to lavish on us. There is force in this view. But then we don't like the "Eureka " to be shouted forth in so jubilant a tone. We should mourn our short comings in sackcloth and ashes, not proclaim them with a flourish of cock-a-doodle-doo, as if they were something to be proud of. Manner is sometimes more than matter. Hornpipes are to be danced in fetters ; and with moderate tact an author can convey unpleasant truths without unnecessarily shocking the susceptibilities of his readers. Our Tent in the Crimea • is a more judicious though a less spirited performance. It is the pro duction of two brothers, who landed in the Crimea early in August last year. One of them was obliged to leave, through illness, before the final assault took place, but the other remained, and was witness to the events of the ever memorable Bth of Septem ber. The projected assault was known throughout the camp the day previous to its occurrence, and in the British army there was a conviction that it would be, on our part, triumphantly successful. The " Brother " generally sustains the view taken by the author of " Inside Sebastopol." The grand mistake was the mistake of the General. The first rush, on which all depended, should never have been coca mitred to the raw troops who had lost the dash and daring characteristic of our men by the performance of trench duty. The Brother writes : It is not the conduct of a few men that disgraces an army. English courage and English endurance have had in the Crimea trials too severe, and have shone forth too nobly under those trials, to countenance the supposition that the English soldier is different to what history for cen turies past has shown him to be. All the other troops on the field on that day were of a character to maintain the name and honour of England. The other divisions await ing their tarn of action held thousands of hearts thirsting for rettgaance, and swords that would have been neither " weak nor slow to second all such hearts could dare," but they were never thought of. and never tried. In those other divisions, too, young recruits funned not the strength of the regiments. For a service like that of the Redan, picked troops, and the oldest troops, are, or should be, generally selected. It was our misfortune that the reserve parties which lined the sth, or most advanced parallel, were composed mainly of boys, recently arrived, and new to the business. A feeling had gained ground among them that the Redan was mined in every direction, and not all their officers could say, not the tears that they shed, not even the supplications which they made, could shake that conviction, or induce the men to advance to their supposed certain destruction. Upon the result of this crisis turned the fortune of the day. The Brother repeats the statement which we find " Inside Sebastopol," that towards evening a message arrived from the Malakoff, informing General Simpson that the Russians were retreating across the bridge they bad constructed to the north side. The "Brother " is of opinion, with the other "I'. G.," that had the Redan been won, it would have been impossible for the Russians to have effected their retreat as they did. A great portion of their force must have surrendered, and the day would have been in the highest degree honourable to the allied ems. • Our Tent in the Crimea, and Wanderings Inside Sebastopol, By Two Brothers. Loudon! Bewley. 1