It is indeed difficult to believe, that the collected experience and information of the generals under his command, many of whom are undoubtedly men of the first talents and accomplishments, could on no occasion have added any thing of vigour, or of wisdom, to the decisions of a solitary and unaided, however powerful understanding. But let the question rest with this single observation, that had his efforts been less fortunate, this very quality which is now quoted in his praise, would then have furnished materials for a grave and serious charge against his conduct of the war. But stop. I have this moment received another letter from you, and the intelligence it contains is so important, that I really must interrupt the thread of my story to notice it. So you are married! What will poor Biddy M'Teague say to this? Alas, poor girl! like the rest of her sex she foved not wisely but too well. What can she make of those two thumping children of which you are the acknowledged father? Who is to pay for their board and education at Mr M'Guire's academy at Mullinafat? These, my friend, are important questions, and well deserving your most serious consideration. Your wife, you say, is a Miss Louisa Congo, a young lady rich in all the beauties and accomplishments by which her sex is adorned. She is a native it seems, but whether her complexion be of the nankeen, the mahogany, or the Day and Martin colour, you do not specify. Her portion at all events is good, and that, you know, compensates for many imperfections. Ninety-seven elephants teeth, five tiger skins, and forty-three pounds of gold dust, form really a tolerable portion for a Senegal belle. The first of these you should consign to our mutual friend, Doctor Scott, who will either purchase them himself for the benefit of his dowager patients, or dispose of them for you to the best advantage. The second will make capital saddle cloths for colonels of yeomanry cavalry, and are at present in great demand. The third I would have you keep your self till you return home, when you will be obliged to come down with the dust pretty freely for every article you purchase. I shall now resume the thread of my observations. Lord Wellington assumed the command of the British forces in the peninsula, under a combination of circumstances peculiarly favourable. In the constitution of our country, it is not sufficient that a general should possess great talents to ensure him success. To serve his country with advantage, he must enjoy the full confidence of the sovereign and his ministers. He must frequently be supported against the clamours of the people, which are sure to arise on the smallest appearance of misfortune or failure. While he fights the battles of the government abroad, the government must fight his battles at home. He must not be tamely yielded up to the censure of those, who, necessarily ignorant of the general scope of his plans, yet scruple not to attack the wisdom and policy of the individual measures he pursues. Nay, even in many cases of positive and acknowledged failure, he must find a temporary shield in the unshaken reliance of his government from the innumerable weapons which are sure to be instantly hurled at his reputation. Without this support, neither Marlborough nor Wellington could have added as they have done to the triumphs of their country, and I may safely challenge any one to produce a single instance of a general conducting to a successful issue a long difficult and eventful war, who did not enjoy in a very ample degree the advantages I have described. In this respect, Lord Wellington was peculiarly fortunate on his assumption of the command. His brother held a high office, and possessed a very powerful influence in the cabinet; and from the frail tenure by which the ministry at that time held their offices, they were led to regard the success of the war in Spain as the only event by which their power could be maintained. The continuance of Lord Wellington in command was therefore in some degree identified with the permanence of their own power, and nothing which could contribute to his success was withheld by those who felt so strong an interest in promoting it. It is not my intention to enlarge on these circumstances, and I have merely ventured to glance at them as adventitious causes, which could not fail to contribute largely to the successful developement of the extraordinary talents of Lord Wellington. The military character which he had previously acquired in the East, was rather that of a rash and impetuous, than of a cautious and calculating commander. Those who blamed him for this probably did him injus tice. When we consider how insig. nificant a number of Europeans bear sway over the vast population which covers our eastern dominions, it is obvious that the power by which they are subjected must be a moral, not a physical one. The latter, at least, must rest solely on the former for its existence, and the moment that the moral influence ceases to be felt, the bonds of their subjection will be broken, and our power be crumbled in the dust. In such a state of things, when war shall arise, a general must not be tied down by the rules of cautious policy observed in European warfare. Where the circumstances are so different, the measures to be adopted must be so likewise. There, a victory which inspires no general terror of our arms, is worth nothing. We have conquered only those who are left dead or bleeding on the field. But where, as at Assaye, a small European force of about 4000 men, attacks and defeats an army of ten times its number, the effect is not to be calculated by the number of the slain, the amount of the treasure which we capture, or the extent of territory we acquire. No; its consequences are to be felt, not seen. The very te nure of our power, our moral influence has been strengthened in the minds of the natives, and the advantages we derive are greater and more durable, than the slaughter of tens of thousands, and the capture of millions, could have yielded. It was on such principles that the military policy of Lord Wellington in India appears to have been founded, and, as far as my judgment goes, they are true ones. Those who censure his conduct may be assured that the rashness of Wellesley has contributed more to the stability of the British empire in India than the cautious policy of all the generals who have commanded there since its acquisition. Time causes many changes, and obliterates much, but no time can obliterate the battle of Assaye from the minds of the natives-no time can change the powerful impression it has left on them. On his return to Europe, and his appointment to the command in Portugal, Lord Wellington does not seem to have immediately relinquished the mode of warfare to which he had become so much accustomed in India. But it was one neither adapted to the enemy he had to encounter, nor the situation in which he was placed. He shewed himself a sort of military Scroggins, who bored in upon his enemy whenever he could get at him; and if he did not always beat him, he at least gave as good as he got, and left him with tolerable marks of severe punishment. But after indulging so much in general remarks, it is high time to descend to particulars, and to specify some of those errors to which I have in the course of them so frequently alluded. At the beginning of August 1808, Marshal Junot occupied Portugal, with a French army of about 18000 men. On the 30th of July, Sir Arthur Wellesley had arrived in Mondego bay with a force of about 10,000 men. He was afterwards joined by Sir Brent Spencer with an additional body of about 5000, and on the night of the 8th of August, the disembarkation of the whole army had been completed. The chief body of the French army were at Lisbon, but General Laborde, with a force of about 5000 men, was in the neighbourhood of Leiria. Sir Arthur put his army in motion on the 9th, with the intention of advancing to Lisbon, and regaining that city from the ene my. On the 11th he was joined by the Portuguese army, consisting of about 6000; but from their being unprovided with a commissariat, and the British being unable to supply them, they remained at Leiria, and the British army advanced on its march. The French force, under General Laborde, slowly retreated; but on the 17th, they were found posted on the heights of Roleia, a position which commanded the road by which the British army were advancing. These heights were in front almost inaccessible; they were extremely steep, and covered with brushwood; and the summit could be approached only by a footpath, on which no more than two men could walk abreast. This path, and indeed the whole front of the position, was entirely exposed to the fire of the enemy, while they were themselves perfectly secure from any retaliation. But their flanks had no point d'appui; and by making a detour of about three miles, he might with ease have turned their position, and forced them to a precipitate retreat. This option, therefore, presented itself to Lord Wellington. Either to take the enemy in front, and drive him perforce from his situation, with the certain loss of a considerable portion of his own army; or, by taking him in flank, to expel him from it with no loss at all. He must have known that General Laborde, with a force of 5000 men, could have no intention of giving battle to an English army of more than three times his force. He must have known the position to be untenable, and that, in all probability, the first movement in flank of a body of our army would have been the instant signal for his retreat. By attacking him in front, there was no object to be gained, but what would have been much easier obtained by turning the position. Yet Sir Arthur Wellesley did so; and in fighting his first battle in the peninsula, he perhaps committed a greater error, and was the cause of more gratuitous bloodshed, than in any subsequent operation can be attributed to him. Our loss consisted of upwards of 500 men, with many valuable officers; and though, with so overwhelming a force, we drove them from a position which it never had been their intention seriously to maintain, yet their loss was absolutely nothing, and 200 Englishmen were carried as trophies of their success to Lisbon. I have been assured by an officer now high on the staff in this country, who was made prisoner in the action, that Gen. Laborde expressed his astonishment at the manner in which he had been attacked, which he considered utterly irreconcileable with any principle of generalship. He then thought lightly of Lord Wellington's talents; but General Laborde (like other French generals) has probably lived to change his opinions. It may be thought that I have presumed to speak on this subject with more confidence than becomes me, and it may be so. But I am willing to pledge the credit and celebrity of Odoherty for the justice of the censure I have passed. I am ready to appeal to any of the general officers who served on that occasion, to decide what weight is due to my observations. Nay, could the question be put to him without impertinence or impropriety, I should most willingly leave it to the candour of Lord Wellington himself, to say whether, in attacking the position of Roleia, he was not guilty of a gross military er ror. But the error, flagrant as it was, was one which at that time harmonized well with the temper of the English nation. Our military reputation was not then sufficiently established; and so long as our generals did but fight and make the enemy retreat, our homebred politicians cared but little whether they retreated carrying off two or three hundred prisoners or not. The despatches read well in the Gazette; the real victory of Vimiera followed shortly afterwards; and nothing disturbed John Bull's good humour till the Convention of Cintra, when he only grumbled that the French had not got a sufficient drubbing, and that they were sent home before half enough of them had got their throats cut. So much, my dear Felix, for the first military error of Lord Wellington, by which I hope you will take care to profit, the very first time you command an army against the King of Mandingo, or the Emperor of the Caffres, or the Prince Regent of Woolhambra, or any other black potentate. Always take him in flank when you can, and never run ram stam up a hill, where one-half of your men are sure to be killed by the way, without being able to fire a shot at the enemy in return. Numbers II. and III. of my letters will consist of a continuation of the errors of the Duke of Wellington. Number IV. will be on the errors of Marshall Beresford. Number V. on those of Lord Lynedoch. Number VI. on the general policy of the military war in America. Numbers VII. and VIII. on the military character of Napoleon. Number IX. on that of Soult. Number X. Marmont. And Number XI. Blucher. I beg my best respects to Mrs Shufflebottom.-I am, &c. MORGAN ODOHERTY. ON THE DISCOVERY OF THE REMAINS OF ROBERT BRUCE. A Freedome is a noble thing; THE discovery of the bones of ROBERT BRUCE, among the ruins of Dunfermline abbey, calls for some observations in a Journal intended to record the most remarkable events, whether of a public or domestic nature, which occur during the period to which it refers; and it will never, perhaps, be our good fortune to direct the attention of our readers to an event more interesting to the antiquarian or the patriot of Scotland, than the discovery and reinterment of the remains of her greatest hero. Sira. Alison. BARBOUR'S BRUCE. covered; while the appearance of the skeleton, in which the breast-bone was sawed asunder, afforded a still more interesting proof of its really being the remains of that illustrious hero, whose heart was committed to his faithful associate in arms, and thrown by him on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, amidst the ranks of the enemy, with the sublime expression, "onwards as thou wast wont, thou fearless heart." Such an event demands a temporary pause in the avocations and amusements of life. We feel called on to go back, in imagination, to the distant and barbarous period when the independence of our country was secured by a valour and ability that has never since been equalled; and in returning from his recent grave to take a nearer view of the difficulties which he had to encounter, and the beneficial effects which his unshaken patriotism has confirmed upon its people.-Had we lived in the period when his heroic achievements were fresh in the public recollection, and when the arms of England yet trembled at the name of Bannockburn, we would have dwelt with enthusiasm on his glorious exploits. A nation's gratitude should not relax when the lapse of five subsequent centuries has not produced a rival to his patriotism and valour; and when this long period has served only to develope the blessings which they have conferred upon his country. It is satisfactory, in the first place, to know that no doubt can exist about the remains which were discovered being really the bones of Robert Bruce. Historians had recorded that he was interred "debito cum honore in medio Ecclesiae de Dunfermline;" but the ruin of the abbey at the time of the reformation, and the subsequent neglect of the monuments which it contained, had rendered it difficult to ascertain where this central spot really was. Attempts had been made to explore among the ruins for the tomb; but so entirely was the form of cathedral churches forgotten in this northern part of the island, that the researches were made in a totally different place from the centre of the edifice. At length, in digging the foundations of the new church, the workmen came to a tomb, arched over with masonry, and bear ing the marks of more than usual care in its construction. Curiosity being attracted by this circumstance, it was suspected that it might contain the remains of the illustrious hero; and persons of more skill having examined the spot, discovered that it stood precisely in the centre of the church, as its form was indicated by the existing ruins. The tomb having been opened in the presence of the Barons of Exchequer, the discovery of the name of King Robert on an iron plate among the rubbish, and the cloth of gold in which the bones were shrouded, left no room to doubt that the long wished-for grave had at last been dis VOL. VI. Towards a due understanding, however, of the extraordinary merits of Robert Bruce, it is necessary to take a cursory view of the power with which he had to contend, and of the resources of that kingdom, which, at that critical juncture, providence committed to his arms. The power of England, against which it was his lot incessantly to struggle, was, perhaps, the most formidable which then existed in Europe. The native valour of her people, distinguished even under the weakest reign, was then led on and animated by a numerous and valiant feudal no2 P bility. That bold and romantic spirit of enterprise which led the Norman arms to the throne of England, and enabled Roger de Hauteville, with thirty followers, to win the crown of the two Sicilies, still animated the English nobles; and to this hereditary spirit was added the remembrance of the matchless glories which their arms had acquired in the wars of Palestine. The barons, who were arrayed against Robert Bruce, were the descendants of those iron warriors who combated for christendom under the wall of Acre, and defeated the whole Saracen strength in the battle of Ascalon; the banners that were unfurled for the conquest of Scotland, were those which had waved victorious over the arms of Saladin; and the sovereign who led them, bore the crown that had been worn by Richard in the Holy Wars, and wielded in his sword the terror of that mighty name, at which even the accumulated hosts of Asia were appalled. Nor were the resources of England less formidable for maintaining and nourishing the war. The prosperity which had grown up with the equal laws of our Saxon ancestors, and which the tyranny of the early Norman kings had never completely extinguished, had revived and spread under the wise and beneficent reigns of Henry II. and Edward I. The legislative wisdom of the last Monarch had given to the English law greater improvements than it had ever received in any subsequent reigns, while his heroic valour had subdued the rebellious spirit of his barons, and trained their united strength to submission to the throne. The acquisition of Wales had removed the only weak point of his wide dominion, and added a cruel and savage race to the already formidable mass of his armies. The navy of England already ruled the seas, and was prepared to carry ravage and desolation over the wide and defenceless Scottish coast; while a hundred thousand men, armed in the magnificent array of feudal war, and led on by the ambition of a feu dal nobility, poured into a country which seemed destined only to be their prey. But most of all, in the ranks of this army, were found the intrepid YEOMANRY of England; that peculiar and valuable body of men which has, in every age, contributed as much to the stability of the English character, as the celebrity of the English arms, and which then composed those terrible archers, whose prowess rendered them so formidable to all the armies of Europe. These men, whose valour was warmed by the consciousness of personal freedom, and whose strength was nursed among the enclosed fields and green pastures of English liberty, conferred, till the discovery of fire-arms rendered personal acquirements of no avail, a matchless advantage on the English armies. The troops of no other nation could produce a body of men in the least comparable to them either in strength, discipline, or individual valour; and such was the dreadful efficacy with which they used their weapons, that not only did they mainly contribute to the triumphs of Cressy and Azincour, but at Poitiers and Hamildon Hill, they alone gained the victory, with hardly any assistance from the feudal tenantry. These troops were well known to the Scottish soldiers, and had established their superiority over them in many bloody battles, in which the utmost efforts of undisciplined valour had been found unavailing against their practised discipline and superior equipment. The very names of the barons who headed them were associated with an unbroken career of conquest and renown, and can hardly be read yet without a feeling of national exultation. Names that to fear were never known, Bold Norfolk's Earl de Brotherton, And Oxford's famed de Vere; Ross, Montague, and Manly came, And Courtney's pride, and Percy's fame, Names known too well in Scotland's war, At Falkirk, Methven, and Dunbar, Blazed broader yet in after years, At Cressy red, and fell Poitiers. Against this terrible force, before which, in the succeeding reign, the military power of France was compelled to bow, Bruce had to array the scanty troops of a barren land, and the divided forces of a turbulent nobility. Scotland was, in his time, fallen low indeed from that state of peace and prosperity in which she was found at the first invasion of Edward I., and on which so much light has been thrown by the industrious research of our times.* Chalmers' Caledonia, vol. i. |