The Press.
London, England, 1856-11-01 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

clearly. The next paper, on " Old English
Mansions, " is poetic from the liveliness
of its reminiscences. There is a pleasant
reflection at the end of the essay on the union
of patriotic with aristocratic feeling:—

Oh, privilege of birth ! to think that a man can buy
ready-made avenues, old mansions, ten•stalled stable, ex
cellent pinery, ghost, &c., included, and yet cannot pur-
chase a set 9t' family traditions; cannot look at unchanged
land that his fathers looked at, pictures they loved, rooms
they hallowed. The self•risen man has other hopes, and
looks forward, like a conqueror and a discoverer ; but he
has no traditionary greatness to incite, to warm, and soothe
and strengthen him. He is a first man, and has to name
his creatures and map out his world. It may be better to
be the first than the last, but the ideal of family feeling he
cannot know. That rich heirloom he leaves for his
children.

If ever there was a feeling which incited to true patriot•
ism, which has been the basis of many nations' greatness,
which is holy, admirable, and excellent, it is that regard
for ancestry, which Itome and Venice once knew, and
England still boasts.

The love of soil is not acquired in lodgings or picked
up by tourists; it is too sacred a thing to be felt by shal-
low-hearted prodigals, dandies, and fools. Intellectual
selfishness strives to found a name, and not a family ; it
despises sympathy, and cares not for a posterity to whose
praises a dead man's ear will be deaf. But despise not,
Radical, the man who loves a birth-spot, where he
emerged from eternity, where he saw his mother die,
where he was first glorified by even a dearer love than that
of a mother's—where he first heard a child call him father
—where he hoped, sighed, prayed, wept, and taught—
where he ran and walked, thought and wrote, married,
and was buried. Angels are cosmopolites ; but how can
man be? Philosophers, who love nobody but the whole
human race—as an Irishman would say—may be citizens
of the world,—sufficient for me to love my own paternal
hills, my river, my meadows, the one roadway that leads up
to the one house where f sat and thought, and loved for a
time, and waited to be told the secret of eternity.

It may be supposed that so fanciful an author
does not want for humour. It is richly dis-
played in the chapter on English and French
manners. Take, for example, this bit :

SCENE—English travellers at a French Table d'Hole, say
the Hotel Anglais, Rue St. Honore.

Cries of " Coffee—caufee—cafaay—eafee." " Garsson
—gorson—garsen." " Boy—you there—you fellow in the
striped jacket—waiter," Kellner Cameriere —I say
Bottega—Margner." "'Am and eggs, I say, what a shame-
ful pat of butter." "Do you call this 'am ?" " More 'am,"
" Donnez moy de boor." " Cate—yes—another tasse—
-1 mean another cup of coffee." "Oh ! these d—
f9reigners. I suppose I've asked that German waiter four-
teen times for more 'am, and he keeps bringing me a
bootjack and a Bradshaw." " tio, no, sir—l—give me
your plain joint." Add to this the clatter of knives and
forks, the movement of feet, and the din of voices.
Imagine fat, jewelled women, who cannot get seats, har-
pooning fowls from behind your chair, and calling out at
intervals—" Law, Mr. Thompson, what an imposition—
shameful. Do they call this a breakfast, and no sugar-
tongs ?"

The biographical sketches contained in the
book are masterpieces. Hogarth is, as it were,
recalled to life in Leicester square. The great
painter of mankind showed his ruling passion
to the last :

Every one has heard the story of ➢fozart and the pro.
phetic Requiem; almost a similar presentiment fore-
shadowed the death of Hogarth. One day, after dinner,
at his house at Chiswick, he told his friends he was going
to paint the end of all things. "If that is the case," said
one of the guests, laughing and filling his glass, " there
will be an end of the painter." " There will, indeed,"
said Hogarth, sighing heavily, " and, therefore, the sooner
the work is done the better." The next day he began.
He painted a broken bottle, a worn•out broom, a cracked
hell, a shivered hourglass. "So far so good," said the
artist, " nothing remains but this," and he dashed in a
broken palette, " finis" he said, "all is over." In a month
that busy band was still, and nine days after Churchill
WAR buried out of sight, and the two satirists were at rest
at last.

The essay on Cromwell is more finished. The
reader will admire the art with which all the
better and grander qualities of the man are
collected and fused together, while the darker
shades of character are but thrown in to
give force to the portrait and make its light
more striking. The passage in which the
fierce despondency of spirit that seized him
previous to his entry on public life is
described, shows both subtlety and breadth of
thought :
A gloom—the usual precursor of all great mental
changes—overshadowed him ; a deep, black melancholy—
like that which drove Luther to wander night and day
through the cloisters of Erfurth, crying, "My sin, my
sin !"—Wesley to dream of hell at Oxford, and Pascal to
see graves opening at his feet—pressed down upon his
brain.

This melancholy is now as well known a symptom of
religious enthusiasm as s red cheek is of a fever, or a pale
one of dropsy. Cromwell's mind was alternately torn
with doubts, lacerated with fears, and paralysed by despair.
He was drifted in whirlwinds, and smitten with momentary
lightnings. Now hell seemed boiling at his feet, and now

1047

heaven wts ready to rain Ore upon his head ; and over all,
and through all, and above all, was night—Egyptian night
—tangible, solid a ith its grave-like darkness. Sir Philip
Warwick says a Huntingdon physician told him that, at
this time, Cromwell would frequently send for him even at
midnight, believing that he was dying; and when he
walked abroad, he would tremble to pass near the town.
cross, or the church-tower, lest they should fall upon him.
In the same crisis, Fox, the quaker, fasted, and hid him-
self in hollow trees, till he heard God audibly speak, and
Bunyan was shaken by terrible dreams, and voices from
the darkest abysses of heft. It is such spiritual conflicts
as these, that till our mad-houses yearly, with religious
enthusiasts. It bears no more resemblance to healthy
religion, than a madman's strength does to one in the
normal state, but it is a state through which religious
thinkers frequently pass. The moment of deliverance
cornea, the climax, that restores the mind to health, and is
its reaction. Loyola felt it, when he saw the Trinity upon
the steps of the Church at Rome. St. Therese, when the
angel pierced her heart with a golden arrow, Fox awoke
from his trances to do good in his own crazed way.
Bunyan, purified and chastened, to guide men to the bright
city, %hither he had himself been ; the weak mind sinks
at such times into insanity, but the strong awake from
their sleep, like Samson, to snap the green withs that
bind them.

We have nowhere in the same space met with
so fine a notice of Cromwell's character.
Analysis and synthesis are harmoniously
mingled to produce a grand historical por-
trait. The presence of ,the man is always skil-
fully kept in view.
Mr. Thornbury's volumes contain matter to
please all tastes. He is grave and gay, learned
and superficial, picturesque and reflective, and
in all moods and on all subjects he is vivacious
and amusing. He terms his essays " The
Recollections of a Tramping Painter." Will
he excuse our saying that we think the pen
must be more natural to his hand than the
brush ?

CHEAP "ORIGINAL" FICTION.

1. The School of Life. By Anna Mary Howitt.

London: Ward and Lock.
2. Harry Ogilvie; or, the Black Dragoons. By
James Grant. London : Routledge.
3. The Hills of the Shatemuc. By Elizabeth
Warner. London: Routledge.
IN that department of the literary world in
which authors and publishers meet "on
'Change," it has been understood that the
results of the current year with respect to
novels will be of considerable importance as
to the future form in which fiction is to appear.
We have been assured that the it. Ils. 6d.
system for publishing tales and romances is
now upon its last trial ; and if it fail, it
will be an interesting question how any
decent price can be given for copyright of
fiction published in a cheap form. For, of
course. the notion that novels published at
mere pamphlet prices could pay remuneratively,
with expenses of advertising, is entirely out of
the question. Yet, if novelists will not be
paid for the time and trouble of composition,
the public must be content to read old stories,
or translations from the French and German.
We make these remarks. as we have three
" original " novels now before us, all published
at low prices. The two systems of publica-
tion are so hostile to one another that it can
scarcely be expected that they can continue
long in operation. At present the facts stand
thus : Publishers on the 1/. 11 s. 6d. plan are
compelled to print in the first instance only a
limited number of copies of a novel that pro-
mises well, as the cheap system produces so
many rivals in the field. But, on the other
hand, the houses which print cheap original
novels give small prices (or none at all), adver-
tise sparingly, and leave the books to "work
their way " The result is unsatisfactory to all
parties—to the authors, the publishers, and to
the public at large. We might name another
class, the reviewers, who for some time past
have been compeller' to wade through a most
inferior description of novels. In short, we
must give it as our opinion, founded on prac-
tical observation of the working department
of literature, that a great reform is wanted in
the system of publishing novels The country
is actually littered with " cheap and nasty "
novels ; the book-bazaars are crammed ; there
are a myriad of worthless novelists who choke
up the way ; and in so highly artificial and
exceptional a branch of letters as Fiction, the
ordinary economical laws of supply and de-
mand will not work practically.

'r-om these

1048

considerations we must turn to the works
before us.

1. The young authoress of tho story of
struggles called " The School of Life " inherits
a popular literary name, and has talents and
accomplishments of her own qualified to sus-
tain it. We may express serious doubts, how-
ever, as to whether fiction is the best suited to
Miss Howitt's talents. It is only rarely that
young men or women can have seen enough
of " life" to render their experience of value
to a novelist. Miss Howitt looks at the world
too much through the " spectacles of hooks."
As yet, at least, she does not show that close,
practical knowledge of the social workings
which we demand in a modern novelist. Her
story is all spun out of the brain, and its sub-
stance is not based on reality. We recollect,

however, that Miss Howitt is too young to
form a decided opinion on her talent for
fiction, though her easy flow of eloquence and
plastic style prove her literary accomplish-
ments.

Miss Howitt has evidently attainments

greatly superior to most of the fair candidates
f or literary laurels. She is skilled in lan-
guages, and has an extensive knowledge of
books ; and we recollect with pleasure some
of the letters from her pen in a well-known
critical contemporary.
" The School of Life" is a Germanesquo
production, and reads like a translation, in
consequence of the author thinking in German.
Its interest is made to turn on the enthusiasm
for " art " as shown by a young man reeling
under the "over-soul." In England there is
not enough of practical sympathy with " art "
to enable an author to make up interest
. _

for the Leonard Mordant of the tale' before us.

The following aspirations are too merely
intellectual to excite the interest of general
readers :

Leonard had started with earliest dawn from the old
attic in the house of his uncle, with bitterest anger boil-
ing within his soul both against his uncle and his mother.
" Why must any human being, forsooth, yield up his soul,
his life, to a career which was abhorrent to his nature ?
What were the morn ties of nature, of blood, in compari-
son to the yearning love which had impelled him again
and again to seek out for himself an abode amongst forms
of beauty, of strength, of gentleness? There was a world,
he knew, where what he aspired to do anti to become was
a thing worshipped, applauded, crowned with bay and
with myrtle; and oh, ungoaded, untaunted, to yield him-
self up, body and soul, to the service of a divine art—what
bliss ! His spirit would clear itself of all bitterness, all
contempt and anger, all would be harmonious, easy; he
could then believe in a God of love; his soul must invo-
luntarily sing each day deepest hymns and praises to the
God who had created such wonders of loveliness—might
he but steep his heart in this beauty, this calm. His poets
all sang the praises of this divine something in the world;
he had seen at times forms of marble and of clay, or
forms traced upon canvas or upon paper, which had
thrilled him like the sound of organs and of trumpets ; his
hand quivered to create some tangible expression of what
burnt within him, and to electrify other human beings
who groaned like himself under slavish bonds. Oh! to
be up and doing that which would be to him life—full,
true life. God scatters his wondrous poetry upon every
bough, every blade of grass, every feather of a bird, every
scale of a fish, every leaf of a flower; yet if he sought to
love this God as he alone could love him,—as the awful
Poet, the awful Painter,—he was upbraided in cruelest
terms, he was subjected to punishments which would be
indignities to a child."

And so on throughout the tale. Life is seen
not as it actually is, but as it seems. The
story, also, is loosely constructed. Thus, in
the middle of it, we read :
How Mrs. Mordant had escaped from the asylum, and
how she bad travelled up to London, always remained a
mystery. The belief in her son's existence seemed gra-
dually to have dawned upon her mind after poor Leonard's
miserable interview with her, and to seek for him through
the world had become her ruling idea. It was supposed
that, in pursuance of this idea, she had wandered up to
London. There were laid in her coffin various scraps of
childish paintings of flowers and a little needle-book,
which she appeared, in her insanity, to have treasured
beneath her pillow, forgetting their mtistence in the clear-
ness of vision before her death. John Wetherley, in after
years, hearing of this singular circumstance, gave his ex-
planation. Little, as he assisted in raising the bleeding
woman from the bank, did he imagine that his childish
drawings and the needle-book intended for Honoria were
concealed among her garments.
Nothing can be more awkward in a novel than
stating a mystery which " never was disco-
vered." And then the next chapter opens :
Jetlertaseiu eigen Gliick tinter den I I nden,wiederKiirtsler
eine rohe Materie, die er to elner Gektalt umbild►n will.
Aber es tat unit dieser kunst wiu unit Allen; nur die Viiiiigkeit
wird uns angebeeen, ale will gehatit and sorgfiiltig ausgeiibt
seyn.—Oorrult.

THE PRESS.

More than a twelvemonth has elapsed since the death
of Mrs. Mordant, and Leonard is living once more in
England.

This quototion from Goethe at such an awk-
ward junction between two parts of the story
will not conceal the clumsiness. Miss How•itt
can describe with eloquence, though she can-
not dramatise. The following painful picture
is poetically touched :

When the rejoicing rays of the morrow's sun darted
sparkling through the matted boughs of a solitary wood,
some miles from London, they fell upon the pallid face of
a man who lay prostrate at the foot of a twisted and
gnarled old thorn just bursting into blossom. The snn's
rays danced merrily among the leaves ; the soft morning
breeze arose shivering through the branches, and scatter-
ing down the rain-drops which hung upon them from a
shower fallen in the night. The little birds suddenly
burst forth into their morning anthem, and the whole
wood was awake and filled with an active joy. But the
man lay unmoved. The glittering rain-drops fell upon
him, glancing upon his soft but matted hair, and quietly
rolling over his white face like bright tears. The wind
waved his hair and the skirt of his coat; and a little bird,
fluttering down from the thorn-tree. perched upon his
uncovered head, and began pecking the long, dark hair
which fell upon the mossy ground, and with several hairs
in her bill flew up again to weave them into her nest. A
lovely green and orange beetle crawled wonderingly out of
a hole in the thorn-tree root, and passed slowly across the
man's clenched hand, as it lay outstretched upon the
moss. Trees, birds, insects, and flowers had all awoke to
activity and joy, but the man lay motionless among them.
The sun rose higher into the heavens, and his rays fell
through an opening among the trees with a searching
violence upon that passive face; and then came a sudden
shower, drenching the hair and clothes ; but the form
remained quiescent and as fading as a mass of crushed
flowers which lay beside him. And sounds of gay laughter,
from a picnic party in a distant part of the wood, floated
upon the breeze to the old thorn-tree; and the cheerful
splash of oars from a little river which flowed through the
wood; and the quiet bleating of sheep from sunny up-
lands; and the barking of watch-dogs and the crowing of
cocks from lone homesteads and the yet more distant
village. The sad face grew darker and more ghastly, and
birds continued to sing over the poor corpse for three
days; and grass, full of its young vernal vigour, and con-
volvulus, and vetches, had begun to nod over the face and
hands and catch at the fearful fingers with their innocent,
loving tendrils.

From this highly accomplished young lady's
future efforts we expect more success than
can be assigned to the " School of Life "
2. Although knowledge of books will go a
small way to teaching a novelist his art, it is
certain that considerable literary attainments
are absolutely necessary for any one who
writes an historical novel. Fielding's advice
to a young author. " It will be desirable that
" you should know something of your sub-
" ject," ought not to be forgotten by the
writers who attempt to give imitations of the
Waverley school. Mr. James Grant thus
opens his new historical story :

An hour before daylight, on a morning in December, in
the year 1632, the bell at the gate of the University of
Glasgow was rung furiously, and the despairing cry of a
woman was heard echoing among the heavy balconies and
dark quadrangles of the edifice. Old Nehemiah Spreul,
the porter, started in dismay from his box-bed, and unde-
terred by the energetic warnings of his cosy helpmate,
Hannah, threw a plaid over his shoulders, snatched up a
broadsword, for the times were perilous, and hastily opened
the eyelet hole of the deeply-arched and richly-carved gate
which faces the High-street.
The morning was dark and cold ; the sharp sleet pat•
tered heavily on the lofty windows, the ponderous stone
balconies, the steep roofs and pointed towers of the college ;
but, save the howling of the wing r wind, all was still in
the quaint street, which is overshadowed by the Auld
Pedagogie of Bishop Turnbull.
Cautiously honest Nehemiah unbarred the wicket, and,
gathering courage, peeped out to discover what " that
eldritch yell " might mean. Then great was his horror
to perceive a woman prostrate on the pavement, with the
blood flowing from her bosom in a long red current over
the white snow ; one hand was still upraised as if it had
just relinquished the knob of the bell, which had given a
summons so startling ; the other clasped to her breast a
poor little child about a year old—blue with cold, and haif
dead of privation and exposure.
Reader, this child was-2YSELF
This is, indeed, an intensely modern style,
and reads like an anachronism under the date
of the seventeenth century. The illusion of a
novel is at once destroyed by such obvious
unreality. Then we read such passages as
this :

Then flying off at a tangent, he lifted up his eyes, and
flourished forth the following rhapsody :
Arianism, that melapert, perfidious, malicious, and vain-
glorious heresy, against which Hillary, the bishop, blew
the trumpet in vain ; Socinianism, whilk boasteth of
making reason alone its guide, and runneth like a mad
horse into glaring inconsistencies and monstrous nbsurdi-
ties ; Quakerism, whilk abjureth all ordination and orders
of priesthood; Pelagianism. the cheats of whilk were de-
tected by the synod of Diospolis, and whilk, as thou
knowest gudewife, objected that if concupiscence be one
effect of sin, and that if men are born in sin, then must

SATURDAY,

marriage itself be a sin ; Latitudinarianism, Scepticism,
Anabaptism, Deism, Brownism, and many other heresies,
are growing among us in these distracted times. Misery
to thee, 0 kirk of the wise Knox and pious Wi,hart.
This farrago is put into the mouth of a
corporal in the days when Cromwell invaded
Scotland. " Latitudinarianism " and " scep-
ticism " are those ante-dated for the author's
convenience, and the " Soeinianism " of that
age did n,ot boast of " reason," and had
scarcely aught in common with the " Uni-
tarians " of the days of Priestly and Belsham.
An author "up " in the " properties" of an
historical novel of the seventeenth century
would not have omitted " the Seekers" in the
foregoing invective.
The heroine of the " Black Dragoons " is
the " Lady Flora Campbell." We never heard
of such a person before, and Mr. Grant has
shown extreme clumsiness about his heroine.
lie writes:—

My beautiful puritan coloured a little, and, becoming
somewhat reserved, turned to converse with her sister, the
Countess of Caithness.

I now observed her particularly, and saw that she far
surpassed the other daughters of Argyll—three proud,
starched, and stately puritan women. Lady Jane was
Countess of Lothian, Lady Mary was Countess of Caithness,
Lady Anne was never married, as her lover had been slain
when the Campbells were routed at the battle of I nverlocby
Now the eighth Earl of Argyll had but two
sons and three daughters ; but Mr. Grant, in
an historical novel, gives hint a fourth
daughter ! He assigns to her a name, " Lady
Flora Campbell," which at once puts a Scotch
reader on his guard, for there was not such a
name in the Argyll Campbells in the seven-
teenth century, and lie has needlessly violated
the laws of an historical fiction. It would
have been easy to have taken a heroine from
a non-historical family. Scott in his principal
characters used not to violate the plain facts
of history. There are many other literary
blunders in this volume which deprive it of
claims to acceptance as an historical novel.
3. If we had never before read any de-
scription of provincial life in America we
could patiently have toiled over the " Hills of
the Shatemuc " But such steep literary
" hills " we have rarely clambered. The book
is a prolix succession of diffuse dialogue,
spread over the page in the following
fashion :

" Are you going?" said Winthrop, starting up.
" Yes—going ; and going South, and going to be an
engineer, and, if possible, to reach the goal of honour on
the back of that calling, by some mysterious road which as
yet I see not."
" Stay here to-night, Will."
" No, I can't—l've got to see somebody."

"All night ?"
" Why, no," said Rufus, smiling. " I suppose I could
come back ; more especially as I am going bona fide away.
By the way, Winthrop, do you know they say the yellow
fever is here ? "

" I know they say so."
" What will you do? "—" Nothing."
" I mean, of course, if the report is true."—" So I mean."
" But you will not stay here ?"—" I think I will."
" But it would be much better to go out of town."
" If I think so, I'll go."
" I'll make you think so," said Rufus, putting on his hat,
" or else I won't go engineering ! I'll be back in an hour."
The authoress must lose her vogue if she
cannot mend her hand in her next attempt.
Her present work is a series of unreadable
dialogues with claptrap titles at the heads of
the chapters, and is much inferior to her pre-
vious productions.
To conclude, we must record our convic-
tion that the public is getting too much of
"cheap original novels." Such a mode of
spinning " yarns" must end in what the Man-
chester people might call a " shoddy school of
fiction."

Addresses of Major-General Sir Riciard Airey
before the Board of General Officers at
Chelsea Hospital. London : Murray.
(Second Notice.)

SIR RICHARD AIREY'S defence of his conduct
concerning the marquees and hutting is based
upon the same general grounds to which the
calamities of the entire army are attributed
by the Commissioners,—viz., " over-work and
" want of transport," p. 35. But, as every
little detail connected with that unhappy
history is of the highest interest, we shall
trouble our readers with a somewhat lengthy
extract on the subject of providing hutting
for the troops, reminding them at the same

NOVEMBER 1, 1856.

time that all these urgent necessities had to
be encountered in the middle of the month
of November, without any previous warning

I now propose to read passages contained in the London
Report, which relate to the subject of butting ( namely, the
52nd, s:lrd, 5-lth, 153 th, and sUth paragraphs of the Report)
as follows :

" 5.2. When it became necessary, in consequence of the
advanced state of the season, to provide some better
shelter than tents for the troops, great difficulties presented
themselves. The whole of the country, within the narrow
limits occupied by the army, had already been denuded of
wood for the sake of fuel; most of the houses of the
former inhabitants had been destroyed for the same object ;
and even the loose surface-stones had, in most places, been
used up in building low walls, to afford a slight shelter for
the regimental horses, or for cooking-places. Consequently,
few materials of any kind were available, except what
could be imported.
" 53. N 1 scarcity of wood existed along the shores of the
Black Sea, but the difficulty was to provide it at the camp
in sufficient quantities for building purposes. Hired labour
could not be obtained, and the demands for the services of
the troops in the trenches, and for other military duties,
were such that they could not be spared to prepare it, even
had they been capable of doing so.
"54. As soon as it was decided, therefore, that the army
was to winter in the Crimea, vessels were despatched by
Lord Raglan to several of the ports in the Black Sea in the
hope of obtaining boarding and scantling of such dimen-
sions as to admit of being cut into the required lengths to
afford shelter. Contracts were also entered into in England,
about the middle of November, for wooden hats, of which
the parts were so fitted that, with the aid of the printed
directions and lithographed plans which accompanied
them, the whole might be put together even by unskilled
workmen.

"55. These huts were framed of the lightest material
that could with safety be used, the boards being only about
three-quarters of air inch in thickness. They were twenty-
eight feet long, sixteen feet wide, and from eleven to twelve
feet in height to the ridgepole, with a gradual slope to
about six feet at the side, and calculated to contain from
twenty to twenty-five persons, though under ordinary cir
cumstances they would scarcely have been considered
sufficient for half that number. The men were raised from
the ground by sloping floors, on each side, of inch plank,
leaving an unfloored space of about three feet wide down
the centre, in which there was a stove for the purpose of
cooking and warmth. The total weight of each but, in-
cluding the ironwork, was about two and a half tons. Of
these, nearly fourteen hundred were sent out. Another
description of wooden hut, but less complete and formed
of heavier timber, was obtained from Trieste, to the
number, it is understood, of nearly one hundred. Con-
sequently, there can be no doubt that a sufficiency of hot
accommodation, or building materials, was provided for all,
had it only been practicable to make it available.
. .

" stl. The difficulties which subsequently arose in regard
to land transport do not appear to have been contemplated
when these huts were ordered, otherwise it must have oc-
curred to the authorities that when the whole land trans-
port of the army was insufficient to carry to the trcnt the
supplies necesary fur the subsistence of the men, the
arrival of 2300 tons of building material was more likely
to add to the confusion of a crowded harbour and crowded
wharfs than to diminish the sufferings of the troops.
. .

" Even now it is doubtful whether-the labour undergone
by the men in carrying these huts to the heights during
the months of January and February was compensated by
the advantages derived from them, though these were ad-
mitted to be great.
" Some of the commanding officers declined to employ
their men on that duty, believing that the evils were
greater than the advantages."

In fact, the duty of ordering the requisite matetials for
hutting 10,000 men (the utmost possible number that we
could even hope to provide for) and 3,500 horses was
fully performed by the Quartermaster General's Depart
went, and the Commissariat speedily succeeded in execut.
ing these orders to the extent of importing the materials
into the harbour of lialaklava, but, from want of land
transport, it was long before they completed the perform.
ance of their duty by dragging the timber up to camp.
Let every man bear his fair burden of blame.
We have no peculiar interest in exonerating
Sir Richard A irey, or any other of the Crimean
officials, civil or military, but we ask any man
of ordinary common sense and candour what
were the authorities to do ? Nothing short of
a miracle could have accomplished the desired
ends ; but Sir Richard Airey could not re-
clothe the bleak hills of the Crimea—
Desert and bare, unsightly, unaOrned—

with forests of "stately trees" by simply
putting on his wishing•cap. Lord Raglan was
no Neptune to call up a regiment of transport
horses from the womb of the earth by merely
smiting it with his sword. " Oh, but," people
say, " a great general would have been equal
" to the occasion—he would have done some-
" thing." These vague insinuations win, how-
ever, only proceed from such minds as are
willing to acquire a reputation for wisdom
without the trouble of thought. A great
general does not show his genius by perform-
ing impossibilities, but by not getting himself
into situations where subsistence is impossi-
ble. If a military commander either willingly
or by compulsion violates the rules of war, he

THE PRESS.

must pay the penalty, though gifted with the
talents of Hannibal or Turenne. Napoleon
could not save his soldiers among the snows
of Russia, nor Frederick the Great prevent
them being mowed down by the cannon of
Cunersdorff. An absolute sovereign at the
head of his own army can of course incur
these risks if he chooses, but an English
general, whether he ultimately win or lose,
must make up his mind for no small share of
obloquy if he is ever induced to disregard
such considerations : witness Sir J. Moore,
between whose character and Lord Raglan's
the resemblance is by no means small. No-
body will stop to inquire whether he acted of
his own free will or not, whether the popular
clamour did not vociferously demand that line
of conduct which it now so vociferously con-
demns. If the English lose their men, and
their money, and their prestige, woe to the
reputation of all those who were actively con-
cerned in the affair, with whatever impunity
the real authors may escape. For our own
part, we have no faith in extempore heroes.
We must consider that there is a difference
between real and apparent impossibilities;
and that when we say a man is so great that
nothing is impossible to him, we can only
mean that he is the first of his generation to
detect this difference wherever it exists. His
conduct will seem like sudden inspiration to
those who have never considered the nature
of the affair in which he may happen to be
engaged ; hut in himself quickness of decision
will only be the lawful result of habits of close
observation, and a patient study of his pro-
fession.

From the hutting we pass on to the mar-
quees :
On the 26th of September the British army occupied
Tlalaklava. and recovered its communication with the sea.
The restoration to the army of the re•embarked tents and
marquees depended of course upon naval as well as mili-
tary arrangements, but it was speedily and successfuly
effected. and in a very few da:?s, and long before any dis-
agreeable westher set in, the troops and the hospitals were
all under roof or canvas. Both tents and marquees. how-
ever, several being old when sent out from England, had
suffered from wear and tear in Bulgaria. and from the
repeated process of landing and embarkation. I considered,
therefore, that many would soon require renewal.
Accordingly, on the 11th of October I gave instructions
for bringing up from Malta 283 bell tents reported to be in
store there, and on the 19th October I gave another order
for camp equipment.
I was anxious, also, to be prepared for the renewal and
increased supply, when necessary, of the hospital mar•
queees, and I succeeded in bringing up from Varna twenty
of the reserve marquees which lay there in store.
• • • • • • •

I have stated that within a very few days from the occu-
pation of Balaklava, on the Uth of September, the whole
of the British troops, and all the hospitals, were under roof
or canvas, and they continued to be thus sheltered until
the 14th of November.

On that day there blew a hurricane, and the whole
British encampment was swept down. The tents and mar•
quces did not merely fall and collapse, with broken poles
(not easily to be replaced), but were snatched from the
ground, and whirled and torn by the blast.
The Commissioners state that they could not account
for the absence of several Jf the hospital marquees origin-
ally provided.
An inquiry into the effect produced by the hurricane of
the 14th of November, would have helped to solve the
difficulty.
In his report, dated the 20th of November, Dr. Hall, the
principal medical officer, says:—
" The storm of the 14th blew down all the hospital mar-
quees, and damaged many, some to sneh a degree that I
question whether they can be repaired or not."
This loss, added to the twenty-nine hospital marquees
reported damaged and incomplete, or condemned as unser-
viceable, and added also to the number of hospital marquees
left with the numerous sick at Varna, would. I apprehend,
account for the fact that the number of serviceable hospital
marquees with the force in the Crimea became reduced to
the number stated in the Report.
As soon as the deficiencies were discovered, a
requisition was sent to England for a further
supply, the issue of which has been already
noticed. We subjoin, however, a few lines of
a letter from the Secretary of the Board of
Ordnance to the Under-Secretary of State for
the War Department. It is dated Ordnance-
office, April 18, 1855, Sir Richard's requisition
having been made, as the reader will recollect,
on the 28th of November, 18:i4. The letter
goes on to say :

The contractors fur tents were unable to finish them in
sufficient numbers to meet the pressing wants of the set•
vice ; and however strongly urged by this department to
increase the supplies, they were unable to overcome the
difficulties encountered in procuring the assistance of
experienced hands in carrying cn the manufacture of such
articles which the expeditionrequired, the demand for teuts

1049

previous to the war being very limited, and not leaving
sufficient skilled labour in the market to meet the addi-
tional heavy demands consequent upon the war One
thousand circular tents were shipped fur the Crimea in
the William &chef on the 28th of March, that vessel
having been appointed by the Admiralty upon an applies.
tion from this department, dated 13th January.
So that even the first consignment of tents
was not shipped from this country for exactly
four months after the date of the requisition.
Whether, indeed, it is true that on so fearful
an emergency workmen could not be found to
construct one thousand tents in less time, we
cannot undertake to say. But the more it is
admitted that Government did the best which
was possible under the circumstances, the
more complete is the acquittal of the officers
stationed in the Crimea. If, as Sir Richard
Airey well puts it, such obstructions could
occur in London, " the greatest commercial
" mart in the world," what must have been the
difficulties encountered by those " who were
" suddenly called upon to provide for a winter
" campaign amid the snow and the clay of the
" Chersonesus !"

Finding that supplies did not arrive from
England, Lord Raglan lost no time in availing
himself of such resources as might present
themselves nearer the scone of war. He
" authorised the purchase of any number of
" tents which could be purchased or procured
" from the Turkish Government at Constanti-
" nople." And that his exertions met with
some degree of success we must presume.
from the fact that the troops were under
canvas during the winter, and that none was
sent out from England earlier than the end of
March.

Of Colonel Tulloch's scheme for sheltering
the horses under canvas, Sir Richard Airey
writes :

The scheme, as I understand it, is this :—To strip the
QuePn's navy of its spare sails and studding sails; to con-
fiscate or buy from the captains of merchantmen all the
" spare sails ;" to obtain from Constantinople the canvas
which Constantinople could not supply ; to obtain, we
know not how, the timber required for supporting these
acres of canvas ; to land these vast and bulky materials,
to drag them up by some unexplained agency to the pla-
teau ; and when this was done—when all these hundreds
of tons of imaginary materials were brought by imaginary
means to the required spot, what then—what then was to
be the next step ? Simply this : "to send for the carpen-
ter." Send for carpenters to Constantinople !
The admirable evidence of Sir Edmurd Lyons must, I
am sure, have satisfied the board not only of the want of
carpenters at Constantinople, but of the impracticability
in all its stages of this extraordinary process.

With regard to the alleged misbehaviour of
Sir Richard Airey towards the Commissioners
themselves, we can only refer our readers to
the volume. His reply to this charge is too
long and too continuous to admit of explana-
tion by extracts. Briefly we may state that
Sir Richard Airey declares it was impossible
to send in answers to the questions submitted
to him within the time required by the Com-
missioners ; and that, when he did send them
afterwards, he was in several respects ignorant
of what the intention of the Commissioners
had been, and had in consequence confined
his answers within a narrower compass than
he should otherwise have deemed expedient.
We must hasten on to the question of the
issue of stores to the troops, a department in
which routine and neglect were said to have
exercised a most injurious influence on the
health and comfort of the soldiers. How does
the ease stand? Again we have to fall back
upon one of the two primary sources of the
whole calamity,—want of transport. When
the supplies arrived at Balaklava there was
frequently no means of landing and placing
them in the commissariat stores. And then,
after they were landed and stored up, the
regiments were frequently without means of
conveying them to camp. No change of pro-
cedure in the two inculpated departments
could have mitigated the force of either diffi-
culty. The machinery employed in the issue
was as simple as was consistent with economy.
Even the Commissioners admit, while deplor-
ing the mismanagement owing to which the
troops were freezing for want of great-coats,
and the great-coats were rotting in harbour
for want of wearers, that the delay does not
seem in any degree attributable to the
Quartermaster-General's department. Then
to whose department was it attiibutable ?
Not to the Commissary-General's any more
than Sir Richard Airey's ; for the "

latter shows