For instance, in the account of the battle of Waterloo, Wellington, at one stage of the contest, is said to have mounted his eighth horse, seven having been worn out or killed under him. He rode only one during the whole day. Again, in describing a charge of English horse, Lamartine represents the duke as causing brandy to be distributed to the dragoons, “to intoxicate the men with liquid fire, whilst the sound of the clarion should intoxicate the horses,” and then launching them himself “at full speed down the declivity of Mont-Saint-Jean.” This statement, likewise, the translator is authorized to deny. It is curious also that Lamartine, with his numerous additions, should have made one important omission of fact. Wellington was surprised at Waterloo; Lamartine represents him as negligent; but the truth was that he depended on Fouche, to give him intelligence of Napoleon’s march. Fouche, with his usual felicity in duplicating his treasons, sent intelligence to Wellington of Napoleon’s approach, and then dispatched orders for the arrest of his own messenger. Those who are accustomed to consider Wellington as the “iron duke,” and to transfer to him all the passionlessness which such an epithet suggests, will be surprised at the peculiar emphasis with which Lamartine speaks of his “voluptuousness.” This charge, we believe, was true in 1815.
Up the Rhine. By Thomas Hood. With Comic Illustrations. New York: Geo. P. Putnam. 1 vol. 12mo.
This volume, one of the pleasantest of Hood’s many pleasant books, was first published in 1840, and has never before been reprinted. It is composed of letters, written by the various members of a family traveling up the Rhine, and conceived somewhat after the model of Humphrey Clinker. Hood’s characters are a hypochondriac, a widow, a dashing young gentleman, and a servant maid; and it is in exhibiting the oddities and humors of these, rather than in any description of the scenery, that the charm of the book consists. The letters of Martha Penny, the servant maid, are the gems of the volume. Her spelling and grammar are so felicitous in their infelicities, as to amount to a kind of genius; and the character is one of the best that Hood ever delineated. Her letter, describing the effects of a storm at sea, is perhaps the richest in the volume. “To add to my frite,” she says, “down flumps the stewardis on her nees and begins shrieking we shall be pitcht all over! Think I if she give up we may prepair for our watery graves. At sich crisisus theres nothing like religun and if I repeted my catkism wunce I said it a hundered times over and never wunce rite. The only comfort I had besides Christianity was to give Missus warnin witch I did over and over between her attax. At last Martha says she we are going to a world where there is no sitivations. What an idear! But our superiors are always shy of our society, as if hevin abuv was too good for servants. Talking of superiers there was a Tittled Lady in Bed in the cabbin that sent every five minits for the capting, till at long and at last he got Crusty. Capting says she I insist on your gitting the ship more out of the wind. I wish I could says he. Dont you no who I ham, says she vary dignifide.” The last touch is especially fine.
A Step from the New World to the Old and Back Again: With Thoughts on the Good and Evil in Both. By Henry P. Tappan. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 2 vols. 12mo.
A new book of travels, devoted to a description of old scenes which have been traveled over and over again, is getting to be the terror of critics. We therefore took up the present volume with that languid intolerance of the subject which is ominous of dissatisfaction both with the writer and his book, but were agreeably surprised at the new interest which the author has contrived to cast over familiar objects. Prof. Tappan, indeed, is one of those independent and thoughtful tourists who never repeat the stale ecstasies and stereotyped amazement common to ordinary travelers on seeing objects they are prepared to admire, but views things through the medium of his own mind, and honestly records impressions made on his own heart and imagination. He is a quiet, scholarly, truthful, candid and intelligent man, sees much which others have missed seeing, and never loses his discrimination in his raptures. His observations are often striking and original, and the information he conveys is commonly valuable. His journey was confined to England, Scotland, the Rhine, Switzerland, France and Holland. The most interesting portion of all is that which relates to Holland. In visiting Abbotsford the author gives a provoking piece of news. It is well-known that the sale of Scott’s works had been sufficient to clear this estate of debt, and every purchaser of the English edition of his writings throughout the world felt that he was aiding in this good work. After the death of Scott’s son, the estate, some two thousand acres, descended to Scott’s grandson, young Lockhart, who has again embarrassed it. It is now occupied by a London broker.
Legends of Love and Chivalry. The Knights of England, France and Scotland. By Henry William Herbert. New York: Redfield. 1 vol. 12mo.
This volume contains Legends of the Norman Conquerors, of the Crusaders, of Feudal Days, and of Scotland—fourteen splendid tales in all. As is usual with him, Mr. Herbert deals in this volume with the strongest passions, and exhibits their workings in powerful characters and striking events. His mode of narration is vehement, and the reader who once commits himself to the rushing stream of his style can hardly pause for breath until he has arrived at the end. His knowledge of history is extensive and minute, and it is a knowledge painted in living pictures on his imagination rather than hoarded in his memory. The past is present to him—in persons, scenery, dialect and costume, and he writes of it as if he were recording what was passing before his eyes. This power of vitalizing and vivifying every thing he touches is manifested throughout these “Legends.” He conceives with each intensity that he becomes a partisan in dealing with his own creations; is furiously hostile to some, and as furiously favorable to others. The effect of his intense representations is felt both in the reader’s brain and blood. It is not until after the book is read that we feel conscious that the author’s sympathies and antipathies disturb his powers of discrimination in his judgments of historical characters.