An Episode in the Reign of the Emperor Nicholas A Day's Shooting. By a Sixteen Years' Resident at the Cape Mr. O'Toole's Matrimonial Speculation. By Dudley Costello Stanzas. Written at Donaueschingen in 1855. By Thomas Medwin Prosings by Monkshood about the Essayists and Reviewers- II. Thomas Babington Macaulay The Exposition in Paris. Roman Charities: "San Michele"-"Trinita dei Pellegrini" The Kaffir Commando. By a Sixteen Years' Resident at the Cape BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. THINGS IN GENERAL. WITHOUT laying claim to the prophetic vision of a Zadkiel, it is not difficult to predict that the year which opens to-day is likely to be full of storm and trouble-indeed we are almost in the thick of it already-and certainly, with no very clear perception—no clearer even than a Zadkiel's-how it will end. Like the Irishman at the fair, we have found the heads that we want to crack, but whether we shall succeed in the attempt, or get our own broken instead, is a problem which time must solve. Had the national weapon been left in the impotent hands of Lord Aberdeen to wield according to his discretion alone, no ghost need have come to tell us that a scarecrow in a corn-field would have been about as useful to protect our houses from midnight robbers. Luckily the public voice made itself heard through all impediments, natural and artificial-brains, bonnet, and nightcap-and the result was the meeting of Parliament, promptly to set in motion the machinery necessary for carrying on the war. In the noble art of donkey-driving there are two objects which must constantly be kept in view: the first is, to get the animal to go; the next, to make him go in the right direction. We have accomplished the first part of this arduous task, but for the second-c'est une autre affaire. Ostensibly for the purpose of embodying the militia, the summons went forth for Parliament to reassemble, but not a word was inserted in the royal speech, not an inkling given elsewhere, of what was the grand panacea which "le médecin malgré lui”—as Lord Derby happily called the Premier-intended to produce for the purpose of prosecuting the war "with the utmost vigour and effect." On the first day of the session, however, the ministerial battery was unmasked, and with no more warning than the Russians gave us at Inkermann, the Duke of Newcastle (in one of those light, agreeable, off-hand speeches which-when printed, not delivered-appear so charming) fired the great cabinet gun, and pitched the Foreign Enlistment Bill into the midst of the House of Lords. A real shell, filled with the direst combustibles, could scarcely have caused greater consternation, and when the details of the measure VOL. XXXVII. B came under discussion two days afterwards, it was vigorously opposed by Lords Derby, Ellenborough, and Malmesbury: even Lord Grey was compelled to dissent from the principle which it involved though he would not carry his opposition so far as to vote against the bill. At the very commencement of the war-while the heights of the Alma and the valleys of Balaklava and Inkerman are still red with the blood of our foes-a minister comes jauntily forward and complacently declares that a necessity exists-already exists-for subsidising a host of mercenaries, on the plea that we are not strong enough to fight our own battles! We can place no dependence on the courage and gallantry of our noble French allies; none on the spirit and heart, the bone and sinew of the yeomanry of England; of men-emphatically men-who in all, save the opportunity which has created their renown, are identical with the heroes of the Crimea! Four months ago, scarcely one man in twenty of the army under Lord Raglan had ever seen a shot fired: in the first field they fought, the daring attack which drove the enemy from his entrenchments in irremediable rout, proclaimed that these the youngest sons of Victory-had at one step placed themselves foremost in the file of military fame; in the bloody onslaught of a multitude against a handful, when forty thousand Russians were pitted against a force barely six thousand strong, these soldiers of an hour achieved a reputation which the veterans of the Peninsula might have envied. And yet, with such material, with hearts as willing as they have hands ready and able to strike, we are to be told that the success of our cause must depend upon the vicarious, purchased aid of a crew of foreign condottieri, who, to describe them at their best, are, in all probability, only A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways, A scum of Germans and base lacquey grooms; the mere "food for powder," that every sovereign in Europe will be only too happy to devote to such a purpose. In spite of argument, in spite of the feeling of the country, the Government persisted in their obnoxious measure, and, supported by all their thick-and-thin adherents, who straightway began to howl in the extremity of fear, lest the much-beloved loaves and fishes should be wrested from their grasp, succeeded in carrying the Bill by a majority of 12 in the Lords, the second reading in the Commons by one of 39, and the third reading there by the same number, short of one, the absentee being, in all probability, the same individual who was "convaniently" kept out of the way at a recent trial. Ministers had threatened, forsooth, to resign if the bill were thrown out! God help us! We should have been at a direful pass, indeed, if they had had the opportunity of realising their threat! The wisdom, foresight, and vigour of the Coalition-manifested anew in the alleged necessity for this scheme of Foreign Enlistment-have so satisfied us of their capacity for governing, that we cannot but admit the country must, as Lord Clarendon says (not the great statesman, but his tall namesake), "drift" to the Dshould the present office-holders retire. At the same time we are so casehardened that we could even calmly prepare for the descensus Averni-since it must be so-if the Coalition would but give us the chance. sym Everybody wants to know, now that Parliament has acquiesced in the ministerial proposition, where the preux chevaliers are to come from on whom the task devolves of sustaining the military glory of England. "Are they to be braves Belges,' such as ran away at Waterloo ?" asks Lord Derby. "Do you mean to evoke the shades of the memorable Ten Thousand?" inquires Sir Edward Litton. "What country between the Vistula and the Po is to vomit forth the heroic tag-rag and bob-tail ?" cry all in chorus. And no Minister yet has been able to give a reply. The Secretary-at-War has not the slightest idea-he admits it—but trusts to the " pathies" of the German people in the same breath that declares he must ask some small German potentate how much per head he is to pay for the ready-made valour which can't be discovered at home. Mr. Sidney Herbert tells us, that though we can make a soldier in three months, we can't convert a boy of eighteen into a man within the same period. But does he mean to say that he has none but lads of eighteen to dispose of? The standard of height has been reduced almost to the level of Lord John-the bounty increased almost high enough to tempt Lord Aberdeen-and the age extended till it almost includes the sprightly Pam; recruits are pouring in-like Treasury supporters-yet Mr. Herbert can select none but boys of eighteen to fill the hospitals of Scutari ! We are sending out draughts, by hundreds at a time, to the West Indies, when confessedly (it was so announced ex-officio by the Duke of Newcastle when Secretary for the Colonies, only last spring) there is no need for a single British soldier in the islands; and it has never struck these acute ministers that the converse of this arrangement would give us at least three disposable regiments. If we want old soldiers in the Crimea, and not in Jamaica, why in Heaven's name not send for them where they are to be had? Setting aside Canada for the present, though "twice ten-thousand" hardy lumberers would answer to the call, available within the prescribed "three months" for any amount of military service, is India to be lost sight of as a means of adding to our disposable force? Have we not there three several armies, numbering altogether, British and native troops, something like a quarter of a million of men? Fifty years ago, without our present resources, an army was transported to Egypt. Is it much more difficult now to convey them by the same route to the Crimea ? You declared war nine months ago, the period of your travail has come, and you are now sending round your drum to beat up recruits in all the highways and by-ways of Europe-with at least fifty thousand disposable bayonets ready for the field in half the time it will take to drill your subsidiaries. If space permitted, we might dwell on the value of these "auxiliaries" to some purpose, by citing the often-recorded opinions of The Duke (see, for one example, his letter to General Graham on the 23rd of April, 1811); but we must pass to another subject. Helpless as we are-notwithstanding the French alliance-our only hope, according to ministers, rests upon the attitude of Austria. Every pose of that lay-figure is carefully observed, in the expectation of seeing it one day endowed with vitality. Frankenstein never watched the being he had created with more sedulous care; though, when Austria does move, it would not at all surprise us if, like Frankenstein's monster, all its ill-regulated limbs moved in the wrong direction. Something German must, it seems, be our fate in the present category. En attendant the Sauer-Kraut Legion, and the vis inertia of Austria, the First Lord of the Admiralty has been doing a little private business with that extremely friendly potentate, the King of Prussia. Penetrated with the conviction that gun-boats were necessary in the Baltic-though luckily Sir James Graham's mind was not illuminated by the bright idea until the season for active operations was over-the "First Lord" entered into a negotiation with the Prussian Minister of Marine (if there be such a functionary, which we doubt) for exchanging an old frigate for two gun-boats, which had been built in England, and borne the elfin names of Nix and Salamander. By way of an "old", vessel Sir James hit upon the Thetis frigate of 38 guns, built in 1846, and the arrangement was, of course, gladly caught at by Herr von Clicquot. When it was "too late"-the old story-the First Lord was told by some of the dockyard people that the bargain was a bad one, and he tried to back out of it, "but the Prussian government," said Sir James, "intimated that they thought the honour of the British Crown was involved in the exchange, and it was not thought proper by us to involve a question of good faith in the matter." The "honour of the British Crown" and the "glory of the British arms" appears to be in safe keeping! Sir James added -this was on the 18th ult.-" If the two vessels shall be sent by the Prussian government towards the close of the year, the British government will take them in exchange for the frigate." Why, we read in the Times, that on the 21st-only three days afterwards— the Nix and Salamander were handed over by our neutral friends. There is certainly great virtue in your "if" when you know it to be a fait accompli. It is only to be regretted that the bargain with Prussia had not been made more complete, by exchanging our |
