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London, England, 1854-05-20 00:00:00

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regiment at Berhampore. His first service was
against certain piratic tribes on the coast of
Sumatra. The ill luck which had attended his
start in military life did not leave him here.
Placed under the command of one Captain
Robertson, of the Indian navy, he gave offence
to this officer, who, on their return, brought
him to a court-martial. His defence is a
model of manly soldierlike pleading; it is the
language of an accuser rather than of one ac-
cused ; in truth Nott was, and felt himself to
be, the person aggrieved, and the judges who
acquitted him passed a severe reprimand on
his prosecutor. Lord Wellesley, with charac-
teristic decision and contempt of forms,
signified his opinion by inviting the young
officer to a ball at Government-house while
still under nominal arrest. In ordinary cases
such a prejudgment of a pending cause by the
representative of the Crown could not be too
severely censured : we must suppose that
Notes innocence admitted of no doubt, and
that he was regarded as the victim of an unjust
persecution. It is probable that his vehement
temper and habit of self-assertion, which re-
mained with him to the end, gave umbrage to
the captain, his inferior in all but professional
rank. Here is a portrait of him about this
time, drawn by an anonymous friend :

I was a great deal with Nott in 1803, 1804, and 1805.
He was rather tall, but not lusty ; neither was his figure
such as indicated agility; still he moved about without
awkwardness. He had a fine oval head, dark hair, sallow
complexion, and not a joyous countenance ; on the con-
trary, without being morose, it was expressive of a calm ob-
servation of whet was passing, for he was rather a looker-on
than a delighted participator of the gaieties of his associates.
His temper was impetuous, yet he could curb it so as not
to be disagreeable to his companions ; there was enough in
it, however, to scare away indiscreet familiarity. I was
his junior officer when on shore at Muckee, and passed
the nights with him shut up in one of the stockades ; he
was then, if I may so express myself, in his glory ; no
precaution was omitted to prevent a surprise ; his un-
wearied vigilance rendered it impossible, and his prepara-
tions to resist any attack which might be made proved
what might be expected from him when he might become
the commander of an army. Those nights welded us
together for ever.
I cannot say whether he was studious or idle : at that
period the world was in arms ; life was passed in action
rather than study ; books seldom fell in our way ; our
minds were solely engaged with the general orders of the
day.
For some years Nott remained comparatively
inactive. He read much—thus making good
the defects of his early teaching—cultivated
the society of his brother-officers, and made
himself remarkable by the attention which he
paid to the wants of his men, to whom this
conduct—somewhat too rare in European
officers—greatly endeared him. He married
in 1805, and passed the next seven years in
the routine of duty and the enjoyment of do-
mestic life. In 1811 he was chosen for the
office of paymaster of pensions at Barrackpore
—a reward of merit, and an additional occu-
pation as well as a source of emolument. His
children were sent home : iu 1822 he followed
them, and did not return to India till 1825,
when he received the rank of lieutenant-
colonel. Of his subsequent career we learn
little, except that, with a natural esprit de corps,
he took up the cause of the army against Lord
William Bentinck's economic reforms. It was
not in his nature to restrain the expression of
indignant feeling ; but neither on this nor on
other subjects of professional advancement
where his views differed from those of the
ruling powers does the warmth of his remon-
strances seem to have injured his personal
prospects. He occasionally wrote on military
matters, and appealed to public opinion
against the acts of Government—a proceeding
liable to abuse, and which he seems to have
felt some reluctance in adopting. But he was
not one to stand by tamely and see what he
thought injustice done ; nor did military disci-
pline allow any other mode of complaint.
Mr. Stocqueler shall supply the remaining
details of his private life :

We have hitherto traced in this chapter the few public cir•
cumstances which attended a considerable series of the
years of Nott's life ; it may not be inopportune to give a
passing glance at the way in which he spent the many
leisure hours which military duties left at his command.
He took the opportunity thus afforded him of collecting a
library, rather select than numerous—one for reading and
not for ornament. " Torrens " was one of his great an-
thorities, and to his family he has said that the contents of
that book were as familiar to him as the letters ofhisalpha-
bet. During this time the " Wellington Despatches," by
(lurwood, were published, and of these he made a perfect

471

_

study. Frequently was he heard reading them aloud, and
if he happened to hear any of his family at hand he used to
call them to read and admire too.
His devotion to his wife and family, who now clustered
thick about him, was unbounded. He gave up much time
to the education of his children, and was careful to insist
rather on an intimate knowledge of what was read, than on
a superficial acquaintance with a variety of subjects. He
also gave hours daily to reading the Bible, and was very
fond of Scott's " Commentary." He had presented this
Bible to his wife in 1834, as the most acceptable pre-
sent he could make her ; and after her death the two last
volumes of it were his companions through the Affghan
campaign. When lamps were lighted in the evening he
was very fond of retiring into a dark room, and there rural-
rutting on the treasures with which he had previously stored
his mind. And in his wake he recommended his children
to follow, saying, " Store your minds when you are young,
and then if you live to be old, and eyesight should fail you,
you will have something to feed upon."
He used to rise every morning before gun-fire, and spent
some time in reading by candle-light while waiting for his
horse to be brought round, in order that he might take a
ride round the racecourse before parade time. His house
used generally to be full of morning visitors, and often have
his superior officers consulted him on the evolutions of an
anticipated parade or field day, and afterwards looked coldly
on bim for the information which he was but too ready to
communicate. If he knew or heard of any one who, for
some imaginary cause, was rather shunned than sought by
others, to such a one he was sure to show marked instances
of kindness, and to press on his family a similar course of
conduct. To the haughty he was ever unbending, but he
needed only to know that his aid was required to stretch
out a helping hand,

In 1838 Colonel INott first came before the
world in a prominent capacity. A vehement
reaction from the pacific policy of Bentinek
had commenced. The war fever—in India
always contagious—was at its height. Officers,
doubly disgusted the retrenchments of their
pay and by the Governor-General's avowed
desire to maintain peace at any price, welcomed
the prospect of a war beyond the Indus with
an enthusiasm which it is difficult to describe.
Lord Auckland—amiable and well-intentioned,
but ever irresolute—was carried away by the
torrent. Preparations for war began in earnest ;
the services of Nott were of course required ;
and he, always ready for fighting, had lost, by
the death of his wife, the only tie which bound
him to a pacific existence. His children were
sent to Calcutta; he himself hastened to the
encampment at Kurnaul, where he speedily
received his appointment as a major-general.
Some fragments of his journal and correspon-
dence show that he was not particularly well
satisfied with the conduct of affairs ; and his
displeasure was especially shown towards the
Queen's officers, then jealously looked upon
by those of the Company's army, over whose
heads they had been promoted. But Nott had
personally no cause of complaint. On Fane's
retirement from the command he was put in
charge of the first division, numbering nine
regiments. Like most men on attaining that
public employment which is the object of
their wishes, he seems to have felt, or fancied
that he felt, a desire to be free from his newly-
imposed responsibilities. He thus writes to
his children :

I now command nine regiments of infantry—two Euro-
pean and seven native—the camel battery, itc., and I have
enough to do. Believe me, I would rather hide my grey
head in some small clay-built cottage, did not others de-
pend upon me. If it were not so, I would leave the army
to-morrow, even if that army were in face of the enemy.
have lived long enough to despise the opinion of the world.
Direct your letters to Major•lzeneral W. Nott, command-
ing Ist Division of the Army of the Indus." My dear wife
left me before I got this, and now it is too late. Colonel
1)--, of the Queen's 13th, has just called ; he is to com-
mand my brigade u long as I command the Ist Division.
I do not like him.
But ho naturally disliked being left behind,
as he was seen afterwards in the valley of
Shawl, while Keano advanced on Ca.ndahar ;
the more so as his supersession by General
Willshire appeared the result of an invidious
preference. An angry altercation with the
commander-in-chief, and an offer of resigna-
tion, produced no result. But he soon found
the duties of the command entrusted to him
sufficient to engage all his energies. En•
camped at Quettah, the troops began to suffer ;
forage grew scarce ; the climate was severe ;
stores seemed likely to fail; and even of am-
munition the supply was scanty. At last,
after many delays, came the order (9th October,
1839) to march with half his brigade to Canda-
har. It was instantly obeyed ; and on the
13th of November he was installed in com-
mand of the city. Here he maintained order,
sternly repressed the irregularities of the
Shahs native troops, and, by his rigorous

M=

r

r

472

REMMIXIM=

Le, earned the respect of the Affghans,
with the displeasure of more scrupu-
tliticals." He liked the Affghan cha-
)r its manliness and independence,
ontrasted favourably with that of the
itanees; and ho seems to have had no
dnion of the prince whom England was
on the unsteady throne of Cabul.
and winter he was on the alert,
the horrible climate, attending to
tg, and occasionally putting down
,surrections. The appointment of
tone in 1841 was a blow to him. He
)acted the command, and deserved it ;
unmeasured way of writing and speak-
!.'made enemies, arid he truly said of
that he knew not how to intrigue or
t. It is perhaps unjust to charge
lent with wilful partiality ; but had
,mmanded at Cabul in all human
sty the great tragedy of 1841-42
tever have been enacted. Ominous
of disturbance preceded the final
)phe. All communication between the
)itals was cut off ; the whole country
avulsed ; Ghuzni—weakly garrisoned,
invested—seemed every hour likely to
'ull news of the Cabul disaster and of
:ten's death reached Candahar only
on the 31st of January, 1842; but for some
such tidings Nott had been long prepared. It
was now on him that the honour of English
arms depended, and with a confident self
possession he accepted the responsibility.
•The Dooranees did not long leave him in
peace—" They approached the city, plundered
'the camels, cut up stragglers, impeded the
' transit of supplies, and destroyed the vil-
lages of friendly chiefa." Nott waited before
he struck, not through hesitation, but that the
blow might be decisive. On the 7th of March
he sallied out with 4,000 fighting men, leaving
in the city something more than half that num-
ber. The enemy, numbering 12,000, were
beaten, chased, and scattered in every direc-
tion : want of cavalry alone checked the pur-
suit. In the interval an attempt had been
made on Candahar, but it failed, though the
Affghans showed both bravery and strategic
skill. Henceforth the general's annoyances
were fewer, though his position continued
critical, with a force comparatively small and
a nation in arms against him. He, however,
never doubted as to the policy which he ought
to adopt. Lord Ellenborough's first intention
was simply to withdraw the troops from Aft'
ghanintan by the most practicable route, thus
confessing a British defeat. Vehement and
reproachful was the general's language at what
he thought a national dishonour. " I begin,"
he writes in July, " to be ashamed of looking
"an Affghan in the face. I am ordered to
" sneak away, though with my beautiful
" regiments I could plant the British banner
"on the banks of the Caspian." At last his
.;counsels—wise because bold—prevailed. On
the 22nd of July came orders to " withdraw,"
If he pleased, by the route of Ghuzni and
Mabul. The phrase was oddly chosen, but
the meaning clear; and for Nott a hint was
sufficient. Instantly he prepared for this new
kind of " withdrawal," which, in fact, involved
an advance of several hundred miles through
6 difficult country, occupied by the tribes
had " a Elphinr -.'s fr - Lord
• !

~~

_

THE PRESS.

6=CF=!rw‘k-4'..

more importance, the forts were destroyed,
and many captives of the Anglo-Indian army
rescued from slavery. Steadily, though in
the face of a formidable army, the expe-
dition advanced on Cabul, towards which
both generals were moving from different
points. Pollock got there first, but was in no
haste to complete his work ; for he lingered
long, causing discontent among his men, and
with no sensible result. It was by his coun-
sel, too, that the Bazaar was destroyed, the
Bala Hissar (citadel) spared—an odd decision,
which Nott would have exactly reversed, since
the former was the resort of peaceful mer-
chants, the latter the stronghold of armed and
hostile chiefs. But it was ruled otherwise,
and no responsibility could rest on the second
in command. How the victorious armies re
turned to India—with what more than Oriental
pomp Lord Ellenborough received them—with
what stately courtesies he greeted, and well-
nigh overwhelmed, the homely soldier of
Candahar, is told by every historian of recent
events in the East. Little as these things
were to Nott's taste, the sincerity and warmth
of the homage could not but please him,
coming from one whose intellectual capacities
were worthy of his office, the only post of real
greatness which the British monarchy allows
to a subject. Not long was allowed for rest :
the returned general received orders to pro.
ceed as envoy to Lucknow—an office which,
though no sinecure, is yet specially suitable,
by its dignity and the easy nature of its du
ties, for the reward of laborious service. Here
he was installed with due magnificence, led a
quiet domestic life, exercising a moderate hos-
pitality ; and in June, '43, ended his five years
of widowhood by a second marriage. Soon
his health, enfeebled by hardships, gave way;
a return to England became necessary, and
even this remedy failed. Nott died in Wales
January, 1846, aged sixty-three. Honours of
every kind attended his last years and fol-
lowed him to the grave. The English people
could not forget their obligations to one who,
in the most disastrous emergency of which
Indian history makes mention, had maintained
the honour of their arms with a firmness not
unworthy of Clive or Wellington. The safe
occupation of Candahar, and the move on Ca
bul, were soldierly acts in themselves ; but
their chief lustre was derived from the con-
trast of Elphinstone's misfortunes.
Of Nott's personal character little need be
said. It lay all on the surface. Exact in
duty, a strict maintainer of discipline, brave
in the field, yet ever holding that " fighting
" was the least part of a soldier's business,"
considerate of his men's wants, charitable even
beyond what his means warranted, and singu-
larly kind in the relations of domestic life, he
gained the affection of many, the respect of
all. His defect lay in a vehement and sarcas
tic temper, of which he could not always re-
strain the outbreaks. Thus he made many
enemies ; the more readily because in the
society of India no word disparaging to any
person can be spoken which is not speedily
conveyed to the ears of its subject. Con-
scious of this failing, he professed to assume
a habitual reserve in conversation which was
contrary to his nature, and perhaps not very
uniformly maintained. But as an officer in
401 d his powers were not overrated by his
; and his career will long supply
'ig example of genuine, unpretend-
lessful merit.

Romance of Modern Rome. 2 vols.
London: Bentley.
of fiction is more limited this
is usually the case. Several old
,ve produced their regular three
as yet no one story has made
to become the novel of the season.
'orth reading, in the absence of
works. Avowedly by a female
,tently the production of a novice
imposition, but wanting that per-
the real required for vivid por-
is such a tale as a clever young
might produce by applying the
manner of Mrs. Marsh to the
,sects of Mrs. Radcliffe. A terrible
dungeons, poison, mystery, fearful

^""'~~

••-••••••••••
••••• • • • •.••••,.......s.lana

SATURDAY,

disclosures,—figure in the tale, but the chae
racters want flesh and blood. Yet, in fair-
ness to the young authoress, we give some
extracts that will show how she can use
her pen. Here is a portrait of the Lady Adela
Daltoni :
As seldom happens with faces of strictly classical outline
and harmony, the chief attraction of the Lady Adela's lay
in the expression with which it was lighted. Her eyes,
large, soft, and dark as the gazelle's, were highly intelli-
gent ; her cheek flushed and faded with rapidity ; her rich
crimson lips quivered with the slightest emotion—you
might have said, in fine, " her very body thought."
She is seated now in her boudoir, a room which in all, its
details bore a striking contrast to the rest of the mansion.
Its walls are lofty, and hung with blue satin damask richly
brocaded in silver—the curtains and rest of the drapery en
aniie. The furniture is of the most delicate wood, chastely
gilded, and superb mirrors surmount consoles of the purest
alabaster. An ebony cabinet, beautifully inwrought with
mother-of-pearl, contains a small collection of books; a
harp and embroidery frame seem each to have been very
lately in use, and capriciously deserted. Adela's attire is a
white cashmere robe, with collar, cuffs, and facings of pale
blue quilted silk. Hound her very small and swan-like
throat is &bandeau of black velvet, clasped with diamond;
her hair is in straight smooth bands, confined behind in a
Grecian knot, giving the contour of a highly developed
head. She is half sitting, half reclining on a low sofa near
the window, which opened on the terrace, and admitted
the perfume of a grove of orange and citron plants, and is
languidly stroking a rough Skye terrier couched by her
side. So abstracted is she, that she does not even turn her
head when the door opens, and an old servitor enters and
gives her a card ; but face, neck, and the tips of her fingers
are crimsoned wen she has read the name, and, looking
up, finds Dr. Maturin standing before her. Sooth to say,
the young professor is scarcely less abashed, and each, in-
stinctively as it were, gazed on the other in silence. Adela
was the first to recover self-possession, and motion her
guest to a seat. Perplexed as Maturin had been since his
arrival in Home, a vision of such surpassing loveliness
took him a little by surprise, and he muttered some indis-
tinct words of apology for the intrusion of so early a visit.
Adela bowed, trembled, and looked fixedly on the ground.
Under the name of Vorni, Count Rossi is
characterised, and the best part of the work
is the dramatic portion in which his assassi-
nation is described. We have a glimpse of his
murderers in council:—

It was between midnight and the first hour of morning
that men, enveloped in large cloaks, and arriving stealthily
by different routes, might be seen lurking about the ruins
in the vicinity of Basino's dwelling. Dark clouds were
moving heavily and rapidly across the moon ; but when, by
a bright ray of light, an encounter took place, a watchword
was exchanged, and the two would proceed together to the
pillars before described, and disappear among the rude sta-
tuary in the portico. On arriving at the door a low and
peculiar tap was given, and it was opened by a man who
held it chained within—a pass was whispered, and a couple
only at a time were allowed to enter.
At the top of the stairs was a second official, and at the
end of the passage a third, with each of whom a different
sign was communicated. Admission was then given to the
room, or gallery, that ran parallel wtth the apartments occn
pied by Basino, and in which, at the time mentioned, some
twenty or more might be assembled. They were seated on
each side of a long table, covered with black cloth, where
divers articles were arranged, the use or signification of
which was not immediately evident. In the centre, and
beneath the only light—a light, by-the-bye, which seemed
placed there only to make darkness visible—stood, without
any apparent support, a very slender but beautifully-
wrought silver crucifix ; whilst above and below it were a
couple of daggers laid crosswise, various swords, stilettos,
spring-knives, phials of different hues closely corked, two
human skulls, from the apertures of which gleamed a
sickly light, and amongst all lay flexible leathern lassos,
like serpents guarding their prey.

At the upper end of the table was a sort of throne, co-
vered with black, and shadowed by a canopy of enormous
funereal feathers ; and there, with a cloak thrown over one
shoulder, and a tightly-fitting skull-cap on his head, sat
Padre Nicola Basino. He was pallid to ghastliness— his
features were drawn and pinched; but still you might
almost fancy pulsation visible through his closely-buttoned
vest, while, from beneath the shaggy pent-house of his
brow, the flashing and rolling eye proclaimed him to be in
a state of fierce and angry excitement.
There was a low hum as fresh members kept dropping
in ; but, when the deep-toned clock from the Quirinal struck
one, a thin tinkling bell was heard below, another on the
landing seemed to reply to it, and, as that ceased, Basin()
with a silver wand touched a gong which hung by his side,
and immediately the door was bolted, and a heavy drapery
dropped before it. This done, every one rose, took off his
hat and mask, joined his hands together, and bent his
head in reverent attention. The president then delivered
a prayer, which, though short, our hand dare not transcribe;
and at its close each man signed the form of the cross,
and repeated rapidly but distinctly the oath—the fearful
oath of Sanfedism. Again the gong sounded, and seats were
resumed ; Basino alone remained standing.
An Italian story and impassioned style are
the merits,—old incidents and want of nature
are the defects,—of " Angelo."

discipline
together
lous " pol
ratter for
which con
high opin
placing
Summer
braving t
everythini
local insi
Elphinsto
had expet
ht}t his tit
mg had
himself ti
Conciliate.
Governm(
Nott con
probabilit
would ne
reports o
catastropl
two capitf
was cony
closely in
fall. Ful
Macnaghl

which had destroyed Elphinstone's force. Lord theTeldlii
s po,
Ellenborough supported him with hearty good- countrymen ; al
will. The Governor-General had hesitated an interesting e
long, perhaps too long, before his decision was ing, ter
success
taken; but, once taken, he knew how to carry
it into effect. Nott was trusted, compli
'rented, and left unfettered by minute Angelo. A Ron
instructions. On the Bth August, '42, he
quitted Candahar, which he had held for L
three years, ruling its people indeed with a THE supply of
strong hand, yet with care and justice. season than is
• Bitterly as Affghans must have treated those novelists have
who came among them, both as infidels and volumes, but a
invaders, no signs of exultation greeted his such a hit as to
THE p Dart e. On the contrary, those who feared " Angelo "is w,
rilib dl property (and these were many) wit- more powerful
..,
Ord- the breaking-up of his garrison with pen, it is evide
.
3,71:4 ? ~. ••.b . M \ forebodings, well knowing that fluent in comp
' .40.11L.Avegelty ni at follow. A single and short en- ception of the
77• ‘ •
ti. •,..ent leered the way of the troops to traiture. It is
•-..st - . . _ e celebrated gates were removed, gentlewoman n
Ith
"-•' ii:
~ ti, e importance which Lord Ellenborough sentimental mi
~,
"'a . or?. ed to this act is amusingly illustrated in thrilling subjec
tia ti Itic I . 1 :a me correspondence. What was of Jesuit, dungec