THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE.

Mount Ida Chronicle, Volume II, Issue 125, 21 July 1871, Page 6

THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE.

A. writer in the ' Athenaeum ' makes an examination of Wolf's well known ballad on the burial of Sir John Moore, with the view of testing the statement of facts in the poem with the actual circumstances. The first stanza, he says, " Not a drum was heard," &c, is probably correct. There is, however, no evidence ; there is no mention of the presence or absence of soldiers and military honors. The first line of the second stanza, " We buried him darkly, at dead of night," is totally incorrect! The circumstance which immediately determined the time of the funeral occurred shortly before eight o'clock. The decision was to be made, the minister of religion was to be invited, necessary arrangements were to be made at the side of the grave, and the body was to be brought out. It was undoubtedly past eight o'clock, on the morning of January 17, when the funeral took place. The sun had risen at 25 minutes past 7. The funeral, therefore had occurred in broad daylight. The second line " The sods with our bayonets turning," is sheer nonsense; and it is gratuitous nonsense; an untouched town like Coruna and an untouched fortress like its citadel always abound with pickaxes and spades. The third line, " By the struggling moonbeams misty light," is a poetical flourish. The moon was one day old, and was invisible during the night of January 16. The military historians advert pointedly to the darkness of the night. The fourth line is true t (in regard to the digging of the grave). The first line of the fourth stanza asserts, "Few and short were the prayers we said." The whole Funeral Service of the English Liturgy was read by the chaplain, with the solemnities usual in England. The last stanza but; one states, "But half outheavy task was done when the clock told the hour of retiring." The impression which these line* are intended

to convey, as to the imperfection of the grave-digging and the funeral, is totally incorrect. It is evident that at the time when the defeat of the French at every point was announced (which was before dark, or before six o'clock on the evening of January 16) Sir John Moore's death was near. The discussion as to the place of his burial seems to have taken place very soon after he expired. It is probnble, therefore, that the men were employed to dig the grave by eight o'clock—at any rate long before midnight. The work proceeded uninterruptedly till nearly eight o'clock on the morning of January 17 ; it was executed by willing men, under the eye of officers who adored the late General; and the soil in which they worked was not the natural hard earth, but the made-ground of an artificial rampart. It is probable, therefore, that the grave was very deep. In a work like dicing a g rave , of a somewhat indefinite character, a determining cause is sometimes wanted to decide the time of leaving off; and the stray cannon shots of the French afforded such a decision ; but there is no appearance of hurry. I have already alluded to the deliberate and solemn character of the religious service. The British troops held undisturbed possession of the town till the morning or middle of January 18, or between twenty and thirty hours after the actual funeral; and there would not have been the smallest difficulty in carrying the body for interment in England ; but it was deemed an imperative duty to follow out Sir John Moore's known wishes as nearly as poosble. The writer considers that Wolf's poem has obtained a celebrity fir beyond its merits, and he introduces a substitute which he considers superior —an opinion, however, in which we suspect many critics will not acquiesce.

THE BEITISH SOLDIEE PASSING THE BAMPAETS OF COEUNA. Pause, pause, weary steed; now the day is declining, And the sun gilds the western horison afar; As his last ray of glory is splendidly shining, It beams on the grave of the Pride of the War. Oh, dear is that spot to the soldier's proud heart ; The grave of the General his bosom reveres ; No shame will a blush to his rough cheek impart As he stops for awhile to bedew it with tears. How glorious the days when we say him surrounded By his troops, whom he often to victory led! J How bitter the pang when we saw him fall wounded, And appearing serene, though in anguish he bled, Unconquered the hero; the prospect of death, Its torture, its agonies, firmly he bore ; His country, his friends, had his last dying breath, J h And his heart beat for them till that heart beat no more. One duty remained ; the sad tribute was ours To enshrine the dear sacred remains of the brave ; And while night, doubly gloomy, o'ershadowed the hours, In silence, in sorrow, we dug him a grave. At morning, amid the loud cannon's hoarse roar, While revenge, sternly growing, dried sorrow's sad tear, Uncoffined, unshrouded, the hero we bore • And, wrapped in his mantle, we buried him here. But, farewell, sacred spot! weary steed, pause no more ; From the grave of my General I slowly depart ; Though his ashes may rest upon Spain's foreign shore, His memory will still be embalmed in my heart.