CHAPTER V THE CRIMEAN WAR 1854-1856 POLITICAL POSITION OF THE REVIEW-SIR E. BULWER LYTTON-GLADSTONERELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY AND QUESTIONS OF THE DAY. T was in the autumn of 1854 that the post of editor upon Elwin. "I am still doomed," he wrote, after the publication of the October number, "to go about with a clog on my leg. I made great efforts to get out of the Review, was very energetic and very firm, but it only produced painful scenes and entreaties, and I must continue it for the present. The misfortune is that there is not a soul just now, in London or out, who is in the least eligible for the office. I named everybody I could think of, but there was some fatal objection to all." So clear had he made it that he did not covet the editorship that early in 1855 he was rumoured to be about retiring from it. "I did wish," he replied to Lord Brougham's inquiries as to the truth of this, "to be relieved of the task, and pressed the point strongly. Yet, when it proved there was no disengaged person to whom it was thought expedient to entrust the office, I resolved to vanquish my disinclination to continue, and settle down to the work." 1 1 To Lord Brougham, March 28, 1855. It was well for Whitwell Elwin that he had had some preliminary experience of conducting the Review before the sole responsibility came on his shoulders, for his independent editorship commenced at a period of considerable difficulty and importance. The winter of 1854-5 was a time when the feelings of the country were deeply stirred with regard to the Crimean War,-first with emotion at the gallantry of the army, and then with concern at the incapacity of the Government. Everything that was written on the topic was eagerly scanned. The new editor felt keenly upon the subject, and made the Review speak as emphatically as he felt. Of all political questions none interested Elwin so much as those on foreign policy, and when to policy was added war, his interest became absorbing. Of war in the abstract he had a great horror. "I can conceive no good which springs out of war," he once wrote to Lord Brougham, "which would not have been equally effected by pacific measures." But he had a good deal of the soldier in his constitution, and an unlimited admiration of the heroism involved in a soldier's profession. He therefore followed the news from the Crimea with intense eagerness. "The battle of the Alma," he wrote, on the arrival of the tidings of it, "was a very gallant business. Our troops, in their best days, never went more bravely to the cannon's mouth. The account of the deaths made a great sensation in London, and I saw tears in the eyes of many men whom I should have thought incapable of shedding one for such a cause." The magnificent conduct of the army, followed by what was generally thought the masterly flank march of Lord Raglan to the unprotected side of Sebastopol, led to the anticipation of a rapid and 1 To Lord Brougham, Sept. 26, 1858. To Miss Holley, Oct. 12, 1854. THE NEWS FROM THE CRIMEA 97 brilliant termination to the contest. "All thoughts and eyes here," he wrote to a friend abroad, on November 4th, "are directed to Sebastopol. Nothing else has the slightest interest, and men are living almost with suspended breath, in eager expectation of the decisive news." When, instead of decisive news, there came reports of the indecisive actions of Balaklava and "the terrible Inkerman," of the sufferings of the men from want of supplies, and of the uncertain prospects of the siege,—a profound anxiety took the place of exultant expectation. It was significant of Elwin's strong character that he never for a moment yielded to the gloomy forebodings of others. "The English," he said, “are a curious people. They love fighting, and those who are engaged in the conflict are hardly to be daunted by any reverses. Yet the public at home are full of despondency at the least delay or the slightest accident. The siege of Sebastopol has gone on more rapidly and prosperously than almost any other siege of equal magnitude upon record. Nevertheless the depression in London has been extreme, because the place did not tumble to pieces like a house of cards. There has really been a sort of panic, and it almost fills one with contempt to see such an utter want of moral spirit, not to say common sense. In a campaign, as in a prize fight, even the victor gets some bruises. The calamities of war must afflict everybody who reflects upon them. If I were to give way to my feelings, I could sit down and cry. But, as we have entered into the contest, it is disgraceful to go about with our hearts in our shoes, while our valiant soldiers are exposing their hearts to the guns of the enemy."1 Even Elwin, however, soon had to admit the gravity of the situation. "Nobody," he wrote on November 15th, 1 To Miss Holley, Nov. 4, 1854. "thinks of anything but Sebastopol. The despondency has continued, or rather, I should say, increased. There is some ground for alarm. My own belief still is that our soldiers will hold their position, and come off triumphant. The issue rests with God, and that is my comfort."1 "My admiration of the heroic calmness of the Commanders in their most difficult position is unbounded, and as for the charge of the light cavalry there is nothing in Greek or Roman history to surpass it." His patriotism extended to the point of being willing to surrender a son to the exigencies of the war, though to no one would the sacrifice have been heavier. "It would be vain," he wrote to his friend abroad, on November 25th, "to attempt to convey to you any notion of the intense feeling which this war excites. Lately the public were all anxiety. Now, though the anxiety is not entirely removed, they are full of a sort of mournful enthusiasm at the marvellous gallantry of our men. There is nothing in romance to surpass the wonderful heroism with which 8,000 British soldiers sustained, for upwards of two hours, the shock of 45,000 Russians, supported by murderous artillery.3 The spirit of the country is up. Men enlist with the utmost avidity, and the bloodier the actions, the more they are eager to share the danger and the glory. The demand for commissions among the higher classes is unexampled. Fount was crazy to have an ensigncy, but it turned out upon inquiry that he was not old enough, which has happily quieted him for the present. I do not think that any family is justified-at least none who share my views of the contest-in exempting themselves from their portion of the burden, even though it should entail a lifelong sorrow, and I should not therefore have refused to 1 To Miss Holley, Nov. 15, 1854. 2 To Murray, Nov. 16, 1854. 4 His eldest son, then 15 years old. THE CRIMEAN WAR 99 let Fount go, if, with the full consciousness that he must expect to find a grave, he had persevered in the desire. I need not add, however, how grateful I am to be spared such a trial. Alas for those who have drunk, or are drinking, the bitter cup! It is not the soldier who falls in battle that I pity—always supposing him to be fit to die -for his troubles are soon over. It is the broken-hearted relatives (and England is full of them already) that are the real objects of compassion."1 There was a difficulty in selecting a competent writer on the war, for the Christmas number of the Quarterly. The editor wished to find someone who was qualified to expound its political and military technicalities, while he reserved to himself the honour of paying a tribute to the personal heroism of the army. Forster, however, urged him to perform the whole task himself, and as Murray was of the same mind, he hesitatingly yielded. "It is of vast importance," he said, "that the article should be equal to the occasion, and I never undertook anything with so much reluctance and misgiving. I would have given £600 to find a substitute." As soon as he had made up his mind that he must do it, he devoted himself wholly to the subject, arranging careful abstracts of newspaper reports, and studying the despatches of the Peninsular War, in order to obtain light upon what was parallel in the affairs of the Crimea. 1 "One of the Guards who belonged to a battalion that was left in England, volunteered into a battalion which was ordered to the East. On wishing him Good-bye, Colonel Hopwood added, 'I hope I shall see you back full of health and glory.' 'No, sir,' said the man, 'that is impossible. You will never see me again. Just look at my height!' He was 6 ft. 4 in., and yet with this conviction that, exposing such a mark as he did to the enemy, he could never come alive out of a battle, he voluntarily thrust himself forward from his eagerness to join in the fray. Poor fellow! his wish was never gratified, for he died of cholera at Varna."-Elwin to Miss Holley, Jan. 14, 1855. |