The Press.
London, England, 1854-05-20 00:00:00

-. a

MAY 20, 1854.

Narrative of Incidents in the Early Military Life
of the late Major Samuel Thorpe, K.H. With
an Introduction and Appendix by Friends.
London: Seeleys.

IN such leisure hours as my Uncle Toby once
enjoyed, good and gallant Major Thorpe sat
down to pen some recollections of his military
Career. As the narrative is uncompleted, the
"fell sergeant" Death most likely arrested
the veteran's hand. He tells us how, " wearied
withWestrninster, and its caps, black gowns, and
fagging, with curacies, livings, and bishoprics
is perspective," he succeeded in persuading
his friends to change his destination for the
army. Hardly used he was enough, poor fel
low. A lieutenant at sixteen, he returned
from Corunna a skeleton. He fared little
better in the Walcheren expedition: " two
" thirds of his regiment perished by the pesti
" leutial miasina of this swampy island ;"
three times he was severely wounded, and on
one occasion was left for dead on the field of
Albuera. I3ut, fighting or fainting—sick or
well—fasting or full—he still delighted in his
uniform. At the siege of 13adajoz, while em-
ployed in the trenches, tired nature gave way,
and for a moment he thought he was at West-
minster with a tough piece of Latin to manage.
'Woke up by the explosion of a shell at his
side, his exclamation, as the blazing fragments
flew around him, was, " Thank God I'm not
"at Westminster, at all events !" Afterwards
he served in Canada, then in Ireland, and
closed his gallant, honoured life as secretary
to a religious association. How happily does
the noble epitaph for Levett apply to this
class of men :

His virtues walked their narrow round,
And made no pause, and left no void;
And sure th' Eternal Vaster found
His single talent well employed.
This narrative was found among his papers at
his death. The disastrous retreat to Co-
runna is vividly pictured in it :

We appeared almost devoted to destruction, yet onward
we marched. At every league dropped hundreds of our
comrades ; many falling dead from fatigue and exhaustion,
others sinking into the mud and mire, where they perished
from cold or suffocation : a general feeling also of delirium,
more or less violent, seized on all, occasioned, I believe,
by want of repose ; some imagined they had arrived at
home, and ran to salute their friends, and fell headlong
over the terraced sides of the road; others had different
but equally unreal visions. I myself several times thought
when passing over bleak heaths that I saw a noble inn
with a roaring coal fire, and a substantial breakfast; and
had it not been for a comrade with whom I bad made a
treaty of mutual assistance, I should several times have
diverged from the road as thousands did, never to return
A fine trait is recorded of Sir David Baird.
" God pity the man that's tied to my Davy !"
said his mother, when she heard that he was
one of those poor prisoners in India who were
tied back to back to fetter them in their suf-
ferings. But, if he had a queer temper, he
had surely a noble soldier's heart :
Amidst the confusion, a waggon full of sick and
wounded had vainly endeavoured to ascend the slippery
road ; the fatigued mules had fallen and died in the attempt;
the enemy were close at hand, and the poor fellows had given
up all hopes, when a part of the general's [Baird's] baggage
came up, consisting of a travelling carriage filled with
valuable property, and drawn by four stout horses. The
general himself passed at the same moment, and seeing
the situation of affairs immediately ordered the horses to
be taken from the carriage (which rolled backward down
the hill and was abandoned), and to be put to the hospital
waggon, which by this means surmounted the hill and pro-
ceeded forward. A victor) could not have given a general
more honour than this noble, generous, and humane
conduct.

Never did the " Ten Thousand " hail the
first sight of the sea with more rapture than
did the wearied British legions when from
the summit of the hills which separated
them from Corunna they caught sight of the
ocean :

Not one mile, nay, one yard, from the commencement
to end of this march, but shared the dreadful effects of
our retreat. Dead and dying men, horses, mules, broken
guns, arms abandoned, baggage, ammunition, and even
money. About half way we crossed a hill or mountain,
from the summit of which we could perceive the distant
ocean—that element, truly the home of Britons. I t seemed
like a dear friend, and we now thought that all difficulties
and dangers had ended with the view of the deep blue sea.
From that moment we considered we had distanced the
enemy, as the different brigades and regiments gained a
sight of the distant element in the midst of whose bosom
was placed their beloved country. The cheers that arose
announced their heartfelt pleasure.
Every one knows how Moore expired in the
moment of victory. The account of his defith

THE PRESS.

given here from personal observation will
freshen the laurel of his chaplet:—

Many officers of rank had fallen, killed or wounded
amongst the latter of whom was Sir David Baird—the
second in command, whose arms had been shattered by a
musket-ball. Sir John Moore, throughout the battle, had
been cheering and leading the troops on, and was ever to
be seen at the post of greatest danger ; and by his cool-
ness and skill rallied and inspired confidence in those
parts of the line that wavered. About four o'clock p.m.
the enemy made a most desperate attack on the centre,
directing the fire of all their artillery upon that point. Sir
John, seeing the dreadful effect produced by the precision
of their fire, ordered the 50th Regiment to support the
front line : their commanding officers had fallen, and, to
inspire them with more confidence, the general placed
himself at their head, and led them on. At this fatal
momei.t a cannon-shot struck him on the left shoulder :
the shock threw him from his horse; and, when some of
the soldiers and his staff endeavoured to assist him to rise,
the dreadful nature of the wound was discovered. The
shot had not only shattered his arm to pieces, but had so
torn and lacerated the breast and side, that it convinced
every sorrowful beholder that the mortal career of our
chief was nearly closed, and that the bright sun of his
valour and skill was about setting in an ocean of glory.
He who had guided us through unheard-of perils and diffi-
culties, with a constancy of mind unequalled, who in his
vigilance for the safety of the troops had passed nights and
days without repose in visiting all parts of the army,
having now brought us to the sea, that threshold of a
Briton's home, was about to take an everlasting farewell of
his sorrowing comrades. But God saw our affliction ; and,
as if in consolation for our loss, sent Victory with her
laurel-wreath to place it upon the brow of the expiring hero
No thought of self occupied this devoted soldier : his last
sigh was breathed in uttering the name of that country to
which he never was to return,—of that mother who'had to
deplore the loss of the most affectionate son that had ever
blessed a mother's life. He died soon after, being removed
in a litter made of blankets, and supported by some High-
landers and other soldiers, and was buried by torchlight
the same night in the bastion of the citadel of Corunna.
The book is very slight, but we have read
the brief recollections of the good old major
with more satisfaction thin many a bulkier
narrative has afforded us.

Murray'. Handbook for Turkey. London :
Murray.

ALTHOUGH this is called the " third edition" it is
in truth a new work, so greatly has the matter
been increased, while the volume has been
diminished in. size. This has been accom-
plished by dividing the original " Handbook
for the gaat" into two volumes; one, which
was noticed in the PRESS at the time it ap
peared, comprising Greece, with the islands
of the lEgean ; the other, which is now before
us, describing " the northern provinces of
" European Turkey, Constantinople, with the
" Bosphorus and Hellespont, Asia Minor,
Armenia, Mesopotamia." &c. The remain
ing provinces of Turkey wilt forth the subject
of a forthcoming handbook for Syria and the
Holy Land. All Mr. Murray's " red " books
are valuable additions to the library. Not
only are they excellent authorities, but
authorities on a greater variety of topics
than can'be found in any other works of equal
size. Their condensed combination of history,
anecdote, criticism, geography, topography,
and statistics, have secured for them a reputa-
tion which extends " far beyond the banks of
" Tweed and the Norman isles." The present
volume, in merit, equals its precursors ; but
the circumstance that the countries it describes
are now " war's playground " invests it with
extraordinary interest. Many may like to
know what is the past and present of Galli-
poli :
Gallipoli, the Callipolis of ancient geography, is at the
mouth of the Propontis, in a strait about b miles in
breadth; it is 25 miles from the Dardanelles. 40 from the
Isle of Marmora ( famous for its quarries of fine marble),
SO miles S. of Adrianople, and 108 S.W. of Constantinople.
It is situated on a peninsula, and has 2 harbours, N. and
S., and frequently receives the imperial fleets; it is, in
feet, one of the chief stations of the Cspitan Pacha. In
1810 its population amounted to 15100, but in 1815, in
consequence of Immigrations from other parts of Turkey,
it bad increased to little short of 80,000. The town was
once fortified, but is now without walls, its only defence
being " a sorry square castle, with an old tower, doubt-
less that of Bajazet." The town consists of miserable
houses and dirty streets. The bazars, however, are erten
sive and well furnished. Few monuments of antiquity are
in good preservation, but fragments of sculpture and archi-
tecture are seen in every part of the town. Gallipoli, which
is the see of a Greek bishop, was the first European town
that fell into the hands of the Ottomans, being taken by
them nearly a century before the fall of Constantinople,
A.D. 1357. The Emperor John Paltcologus, to comfort him
self for the loss of it, said, " he had only lost a jar of wine
and a sty for hogs," alluding to the magazines and cellars
built by Justinian, which highly deserve to be visited.
Bajazet I.,knowing the importance of the post for passing