During this war they have had occasion to revise their opinion regarding our courage; they have also taught us to respect their heroic powers of endurance, and to believe that many virtues may be found beneath a brown skin. If the experience of the past prevents us from looking forward with too much confidence to the future destiny of this noble race, who have decreased to one-half of their number since they welcomed the Anglo-Saxon race to their shores, we have at least a right to expect that they shall be treated with justice, and nothing be done to hasten on that fate which seems already to be impending over them. England will thus be saved the remorse of wilfully neglecting to take any measures to avoid those calamities to which the contact of civilized with semi-barbarous races has hitherto given rise, and the Maori may yet become a sharer in those blessings which civilization and Christianity can alone bestow.
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE NAVAL BRIGADE IN INDIA.
While a few of our sailors have forced their way into Mr. Desanges’ Gallery, and made good their title to the Cross of Valour, it must be evident to the most casual spectator that the “blue jackets” have not been so fortunate as the “red coats” in securing this reward of gallantry. It would be unfair, however, to infer from this fact that our sailors are inferior to our soldiers in courage; both belong to the same race, and are animated by the same warlike spirit: but of late years sailors have not had the same opportunity of displaying their valour as in the days of Nelson, Jervis, and Duncan. Since the conclusion of the great French war in 1815, we have not been brought into collision with any of the great maritime powers. The battle of Navarino, where the united fleets of three European nations combined to destroy the naval power of Turkey, and to release Greece from the chains of slavery, redounded but little to our credit; and Russia, during the late war, afforded us few opportunities of gaining laurels by sea. It is true, that during the Crimean war some of our sailors earned themselves a name to live in the annals of fame; but it was not on that element peculiarly their own that they acquired this honourable distinction. It was not at sea, but on land, fighting side by side with our soldiers, that they proved themselves the worthy successors of the men who conquered at Trafalgar and swept our enemies from the ocean. If only a few obtained the Victoria Cross, the reason was that comparatively few were permitted to take any active part in the Russian war, and that no man can prove himself to be a hero unless he has the chance of doing so.
Sailors have a natural taste for fighting, and they felt it very hard during the siege of Sebastopol that the soldiers should have the largest share. When any of them, by good conduct, became entitled to a holiday, it was not an unusual request to be allowed to spend it ashore, “to have a day’s shooting with them ’ere red coats.” They regarded such an event with as much interest as the keenest sportsman does when he talks of the 1st of September and looks forward to its arrival, and their ambition was equally great to make a good bag. It was the same during the suppression of the Indian Mutiny: the sailors who composed the Naval Brigade, led by the gallant young Peel, marched up the country with as much alacrity as if they had landed merely to enjoy themselves.
When, about the middle of May, 1857, intelligence reached Calcutta of the disasters at Meerut and Delhi, Lord Canning, the Governor-General, telegraphed immediately for aid to Bombay, Ceylon, and Madras. He knew that Lord Elgin and General Ashburnham were on their way to China, and urged in the most pressing manner that some of the troops under their command should be sent at once to Calcutta, to assist in suppressing the mutiny. It was fortunate for our future interests in India that Lord Elgin was generous enough to take upon himself the responsibility of diverting to the shores of the Ganges part of those troops which were intended to aid in the attack on Canton. About the middle of July, while he was waiting at Hong-Kong for the arrival of reinforcements, he received a despatch from Lord Canning, announcing that the revolt was spreading on every side and asking for farther aid. Lord Elgin at once started for Calcutta, taking with him a force of fifteen hundred seamen and marines, most of whom belonged to the two war steamers, the Pearl and the Shannon. These active, hardy men were organized into “Naval Brigades,” and rendered the most important services under the command of their gallant chief, Captain Peel.
This distinguished officer was a younger son of the late Sir Robert Peel, and his brief but glorious career shed additional lustre on the name he bore. He loved his profession for its own sake: he delighted in the excitement of war; he was never more in his element than when he had planted one of those immense guns he knew how to handle so skilfully against the walls of Sebastopol and Lucknow, where he would continue to work it amid a shower of shot and shell. Genius is only talent directed into one particular channel, and the talent he inherited from his father was devoted to the noble profession he had adopted. He had already distinguished himself in the Crimea, and had accompanied Lord Elgin to China in command of Her Majesty’s ship Shannon, when our sailors and marines were organized into naval brigades. He was placed at the head of the one which was intended to aid in the relief of Lucknow, and nobly did he discharge the duties which then devolved upon him. His was that daring but thoughtful courage that wins the confidence as well as the admiration of all who witness it; the earnest force of character that surmounts every difficulty and triumphs over every obstacle; the gentle, kindly bearing, the courteous manner, which tells more upon our soldiers and sailors than words of stern command; the influence which a noble nature exercises on all around. It would be difficult to overestimate the value of his services during the seven months he commanded the Naval Brigade in the north-west provinces. We cannot trace his whole career; it is sufficient for the present to remark, that he died at Cawnpore, on the 27th of April, 1858, of smallpox. He had been wounded in the thigh during the last attack upon Lucknow, and was on his way to Calcutta when he was attacked at Cawnpore by the dangerous malady to which he succumbed. The recent annals of the British Navy can show no name which has better claims to be remembered than that of William Peel, of whom it may be truly said that he died too soon for his country but not for his own fame.