ODE ON THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume IX, Issue 809, 4 May 1853, Page 3

ODE ON THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

It is fitting that the requiem for England's greatest warrior should be hymned by England's laureate. To sing the birth of insignificant princes, and to write in ink an unfelt sorrow for unregretted kings, have con&tituted the prime duties of Mr. Tennyson's predecessors. To commemorate the loss of a true man, over whose bier millions mourn, is his own privilege. We have read of the fuaeral obsequies of Albemaile, and we have been taught to admire a people's gratitude in the last honours pair! to Marlborough ; but the pure spirit of poetry in magnifying their glories turns aside from the contemplation of their too visible

frailties. Our laureate may survey his subject boldly. Mighty are Wellington's achievements, but mightier, still his singleness of purpose and his perfect abnegation of himself. What can the poet ask more than the combination of the loftiest power with the lowliest humility — of the grandest deeds with the purest aims — of unlimited authority with complete self-control ? There is less of grandeur than of beauty in Mr. Tennyson's poem. The severe old soldier on the battle field is not before vs — the stern unbending statesman — inflexible till inflexibilif \ became a fault — does not strike our minds with awe. Both have passed away, and we are summoned to weep because the brother has gocn from us who taught mankind the simple lesso' of duty as it never had been taught before. Mr. Tennyson writes,— Mourn, for to us he seems the last : Our sorrow draws but on the Golden Past. O, Friends ! our chief State oracle is mute : Mourn for the man of long-enduring blood, The statesman-warrior, moderate, resolute, Whole in himself, a common good. Mourn for the man of largest influence, Yet freest from ambition's crime, Our greatest, yet with least pretence, Great in council and great in war, Foremost captain of his time, Rich in saving common sense, And as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime ! O, good greyhead, which all men knew, O, voice from which their omens all men drew, O, iron nerve, to true occasion true ; Sjl- I 1I 1 ' n at en S& ttlat to *er of strength, Which stood four square to all the winds that blew! Such was he whom we deplore ; The long self-sacrifice of life is o'er ; The great World- victor's victor will be seen no more. They are conveying him to his last restingplace, and the spirit of Nelson 13 disturbed with the approaching murmur: — ■ Who is he that cometh like an honour'd guest, With banners and with music, with soldier and with priest, With a nation weeping, and breaking on my rest ? Mighty seaman, this is he Was great by land as thou by sea. Thine island loves thee well, thou famous man, The greatest sailor since our world began Now, to the roll of muffled drums, To thee the greatest soldier comes ; For this is he Was great by land as thou by sea. His martial wisdom kept us free ; O, warrior seaman, this is he J This is England's greatest son, Worthy of our gorgeous rites, And worthy to be laid by thee ; He that gain'd a hundred fights.' And never lost an English gun. • * * '•

Mighty seaman, tender and true, And puie as he from taint of craven guile j O, saviour of the silver-coasted isle ! O, shaker of the Baltic and the Nile ! Tf aught of things that there befall Touch a spirit among things divine, ' If love of country move thee there at all, *■ Be glad because his bones are laid by thine! And through the centuries let a people's voice In full acclaim, A people's voice, The proof and echo of all human fame, A people's voice, when they rejoice At civic revel and pomp and game, Attest their great Commander's claim, With honour, honour, honour, honour to him, Eternal honour to his name. Read on ! A people's voice ! we are a people yet, Though all men else their nobler dreams forget, Confused by brainless mobs and lawless Powers, We have a voice, with which to -pay the debt Of most unbounded reverence and regret To those great men who fought, and kept it ours. O Statesmen, guard us, guard the eye, the soul Of Europe, keep our noble England whole, And save the one true seed of freedom sown Betwixt a people and their ancient throne, That sober freedom out of which there springs Our loyal passion for our temperate kings ; For, saving that, ye save mankind Till public wrong be crumbled into dust, And help the march of human mind, Till crowds be sane and crowns be just ; But wink no more in slothful overtrust. Perchance our greatness will increase ; Perchance a darkening future yields Some reverse from worse to worse, The blood of men in quiet fields, And sprinkled on the sheaves of peace. And O, remember him who led y >ur hosts ; Respect his sacred warning ; guard your coasts. His voice is silent in your council-hall For ever ; and, whatever tempests lower, For ever silent ; even if they broke In thunder, silent. Yet, remember all He spoke among you, and the Man who spoke; Who never sold the truth to serve the hour, Nor palter'd with Eternal God for power. His eighty winters freeze with one rebuke, All great self-seekers trampling on the right. Truth-teller was our England's Alfred named, Tru'h-lover was our English Duke ; Whatever record leap to light, He never shall be shamed. Why ? Because " The path of duty was the way to glcry." Never has that path been more simply and faithfully drawn than in th? following lines : — Lo ! the leader in these glorious wars Now to glorious burial slowly borne, Follow'd by the brave of other lands! He, on whom from both her open hands Lavish Honour showered all her stars, And affluent Fortune emptied all her horn Yea, let ail good things await Him who cares not to be great, But as he saves or serves the State Not once or twice in our rough island- stciy The path of duty was the way to glory. He that walks it only thirsting for the right, and learns to deaden Love of self, before his journey closes, He shall find the stubborn thistle bursting Into glossy purples, which outredden All voluptuous garden roses. Not once ox twice, in our fair island-stor}-, The path of duty was the way to glory. He, that ever following her commands On with toil of heart, and knees, and hand's, Thro' the long gorge to the far light, has won His path upwards, and prevail'd; Shall find the toppling crags of Duty scaled, Arc close upon the shining table-lauds To which our God himself is moon and sun ; He has not fail'd ; he hath prevail'd ; So let the men whose hearths he saved from shanr. Thro' many and many an age proclaim At civic revel, and pomp, and game. And when the long illumined cities flame, Their ever-loyal iron leader's fame, With honour, honour, honour, honour to him, Eternal honour to his name. There is no affectation in these nor in any of the lines. In truth, the subject forbade tne intrusion of grotesque forms, and Mr. Tennyson is faithful to his mission. We have already indicated the nature of this effusion. It' has more beauty than force, more sweetness and feeling than dignity or magnificence. — Times,

Early pticuniaky Difficulties of the Duke of Wkllington. —Among other regiments tVat received orders of readiness for the coast of France, the 33rd was included. Ardent

M Lieutenant-Colonel Wellesley was for an opportunity of meeting an enemy in the field, and that, too, in the command of a battalion, one cause alloyed bit satiafaciion, and occasioned him painful uneasiness. His circumstances were embarrassed — be wanted means to discbarge his debts — and be determined not to quit the country, and leave unsatisfied creditors behind him. It is true that bis parliamentary privilege secured him from personal annoyance; bnt to have obligations he was unable to discharge, to one with his sensitive feeling, was intolerable. One course only waa left, and without hesitation he adopted it. He - called upon agentleman with whom he had extensive dealings, enumerated his debts, stated bis inability to pay them, and proposed to allocate the whole of ■his disposable income for their discharge, that the whole might be liquidated by degrees. The honourable proposition was accepted, a power of attorney left with Mr. Dillon, that gentleman • accepting the trust, which be contiuned to bold until the last shilling of Colonel Wellesley's liabilities waa discharged. Adversity tests principles severely. A man, exempted from 'financial inconveniences, can only conjecture how far his firmness would have enabled him to overcome, with scanty resources, a pecuniary embarrassment. Yet he who was indebted to a tradesman for assistance, and by « rigid limitation of "his personal expenses was enabled to pay off his debts, lived to be possessor of a princely income ; after, by the integrity of bis name alone, supporting an army in the field, when his military chest was almost left without a guinea. The individual (Mr.Thomas Dillon, formerly a woollen-draper, in Parlisment-street, and afterwards of Mount Dillon, in the County of Dublin) to whom Colonel Wellesley confided the settlement of his affairs, was enabled by honourable and successful industry, to accumulate a handsome fortune. He is long since dead; but he delighted to mention the circumstances under which his trust was undertaken as highly creditable to the moral principle of the gallant soldier. He lived to witness the triumphant catter of his young favourite, and be present at a scene, that to him must have proved indeed a moment of pride and exultation. — Maxwell's Life - of the Duke of Wellington.

Th* Lax* Sir R. Feel. — Daring the time the late Sir Robert Feel vat Premier, Lady Jane Peel waa in the habit oi patting all the article! which appeared in the newspapert against him on a acreen. 11 There it nothing very aingniar in that," remarked Peel, " it it bnt the dnty of etery wife to - screen her hotband'a faults."

Mtstmious Abduction Case. — The Brit- * tol Mercury has the following particulars of i singular case of abdactioa which occarred io thai place lut week : — la the early part of the week the walls of oar city were extensively placarded with posting bills, offering £50 reward for the restoration of a yoong lady named Harriet, twenty-one yean of age, and newly married, th< daughter of the Rev. T. B. Johnstone, Vicar oi Clntton, who had been, it was alleged, forcibly removed from the protection of her husband, and who was supposed to be secreted in the neighbourhood of Clutton, Wells, Batb, or Bristol The facts of the novel, not to say romantic occnrence, are, we believe, as follows : — The Rev. Vicar has several daughters, one of whom, the lady in question had kindled a flame in the breast of a gallant son of Mars, who holds the rank o a Captain in the Bengal Cavalry. It is not foi us to know to what extent the feelings of his hear met with a response in the breast of the damsel, bnt this can be said, that he was in all respects i " loveable" man— yoong, handsome, high-spirit-ed, well-born, and blessed with an ample share of this world's treasures. The gallant Captaii wooed and won the lady, and abont a montl ago the whole neighbourhood of Clutton wai thrown into confusion by one of the gayest wed dings that lived even in the memory of that sage gossip " the oldest inhabitant." Things weni oq smoothly for a while, and a long caieer oj happiness seemed before the youag couple, when an event occurred which gave rise to all the romantic incidents that followed. Captain Money was borne upon a very prolonged leave of absence, but the breaking out of the Burmese war led to his immediate recall. To lose his newly acquired treasure was more thin he could afford, and he determined upon taking his bride to that distant laqd upon which, at least for a time, his lot was cast. Bat if the lady was dear to her husband, she was it would seem, dear to her parents also, and objections were made on their part to her encountering lha perils of voyage and climate. The captain said his wife must go with him, but he would endeavour to get his stay here prolonged, and for this purpose he proceeded to London, where he succeeded in procuring an extension of the time of his departure till October. On bis return his first enquiries where naturally for his wife. Excuses were at -first made for her nonappearance ; but at length the astounding intimation was conveyed to him by her father that he would never see her again. Now a gallant officer is not the man to give up a young and lovely bride so easily as this, and he at once resolved upon taking vigorous steps for her recovery. He started to Bristol, telegraphed to bis brother, a barrister in London, to take the proper steps there, and gave orders for the issue of a large number of reward bills, and the insertion of advertisements in the London and other papers. Police officers and searchers of every description were brought into requisition, and « regular corps of mounted men, and after much watching the lady was traced to Clutton. On Tuesday the father and mother drove Dp to Mr. 's house in a carriage, and hayingentered it they brought ont a young lady muffled up in shawls, whom they placed in the carriage and drove off with her. A mounted man followed them to the Bath road, where he met another of the patrol, and directing him to follow the carriage, be galloped on to this city to inform the ctptaio. He could not be met with at the moment, and information was given to a railway inspector, who started at once to Batb, and found the parties in a railway carriage. Explanations took place ; they proceeded to London, and were almost immediately followed by the husband. We hope that the gallant son of Mars is by this time in possession of his bride who will, we should think, love him none the less passionately on acconnt of the gallant fight be has had for her. — Further particulars. From the moment of Captain Moneys arrival in Londou, he was joined in the pursuit of his wife by two brothers, one .of them a barmter. The father was soon discoverod, but no traces of the daughter were found. In this state the three

brothera went before Mr. Justice Erie, , '• Chambers, to apply for a writ of habeas corpi . compelling the appearance of the missing lad! ' The solicitor who represented the father urgi - the impossibility of bringing the young lady frt,"~ the remote seclusion within the required lime, f'Vsaid he, incantioasly, " No cab, not even a Ha^f-;-•om, could traverse the ground between this &■ /*; No. 35, Cadogan- place, Chelsea, before the ho' . of your Lordship's departure." There was/alight movement in tbe Chamber, and one of i anxious listeners was missing, but bis tbsen '„*-" was not suspected. Orders were given for t immediate preparation of the writ, but its bear . . was forestalled ; for immediately on the dij ' covery of the bride's address, the captain, aj 'j companied by his legal brother, hastened l'f< Cadogan-place, took possession of the lady, a(;', carried her off. Whether with the ft&f? prisoner's reluctant consent, positive approval, or" in defiance of either, we have no means of conjecturing.