4 JANUARY 1834, Page 18

THE BLACK WATCH'.

WE approash the posthumous work of M. PICKEN in a melan- choly mood"; for we cannot separate the production from the author. In the more contemplative parts of the book, in the philosophic reflections of the writer, we trace the hardly-subdued feelings of the man, and are diverted from fiction to truth—thrown back from the various fortunes of the heroes of romance to the chequered life of the hero of literature. Mr. Pic KEN married voting ; had early to struggle with the cares and anxieties of a family ; tasted of the too frequently useless patronage of the great; embarked in business, with the usual success of literary men; and becoming, in the emphatic words of JOHNSON, " by necessity an author," had, we believe, practically to discover the inutility of " empty praise," and felt the res angustee domi, whilst his name was widely blown, and his company sought after to assist in lionizing the parties of the professed admirers of genius. As we have before intimated, he died a young man, worn down by literary labour, and its mental anxieties and pecuniary distresses; leaving his favourite Black Watch as the sole legacy to maintain a wi4ow and establish a young family in the world.

A work appearing under such circumstances might soften criti-

cism, were it necessary. In the present case, lenity is scarcely needed. The Black Watch is the best of the author's productions. He has broken new ground, and commenced working a field, which, had he been spared for a more careful cultivation, would have yielded a valuable harvest. The time of the novel is the middle of GEORGE the Second's reign : the scene is laid in Scot. land and England, with an excursion to the field of Fontenoy and to the court of Louis the Fifteenth at Paris. The incidents are numerous. We have a graphic history of the celebrated highland Regiment " the Black Watch;' now the Forty-second; its forma- tion; its march to London; the desertion of a large body of its " shentlemen ;" their retreat through part of England ; their inter- ception, trial, and the final execution of the ringleaders. The ad- ventures of the hero, Hector Munro, during his career in Scot- land, and his embassies to London as an agent of the Jacobites, though of less stirring interest, serve to mark the manners of the period, and the public morality prevalent in the higher ranks. The characters are numerous and varied. We have, as represen- tatives of classes, the Lowland chapman and burgess of Perth, the chieftains and Ilighlandmen of the mountains, the coarse rabble, and the almost equally coarse trader of London, the corrupt aris- tocracy and the " loyal " magistracy of the period, together with the hangers-on of' a great Scotch family. Real characters, too, figure in the story ; amongst others, the silly but intriguing llutchess of BUCKINGHAM, the pious Princess ELIZABETH, and

"that bug with gilded wings, That painted child of dirt, who stinks and stings"— rl HzuvEv, who enjoys so biting an immortality as the Sporus of the satirist.

Our first extract shall be taken from a higher class of scenes than the "Dominic" had heretofore attempted. It is part of a description of the disastrous field of Foulenoy, lost by incompe- tence, won by accident. The quotation exhibits an exploit on the part of what NAPIER calls the "astonishing" infantry, which, had it been properly supported by the Allies, or had a master- mind directed the movements of all the masses of the army, weuld have been followed by complete triumph.

It was now nearly ten o'clock, and hitherto the battle had chiefly consisted of attacks upon the fortified points of the enemy's position, which the Duke found himself unable to carry, while his brave men never could get opportunity of a fair struggle with the French infantry, who kept chiefly under cover of the heights beyond. Confident in their valour, and fearing that, if he tarried longer on the plain, his army would be destroyed by cannon.shot alone, he took the resolution of making no further attempts upon the redoubts, but of ordering his whole left wing to pass the ravine in front, and force their way on the French lines between Fontenoy and the wood. The battalions and their officers, British and Austrians, proceeded to obey this order with brave alacrity ; al- though, in order to avoid the hollow way, they were obliged to pass close to the redoubts on the right. Towards the left of this wing, namely, near Fontenoy, where the hollow way deepened into the long ravine, the confusion and slaughter were dreadful as the men clambered up its front, for the cannon from the wood raked nearly its whole length. Nevertheless, in the midst of the fire and the blind- ing smoke, the bombardiers, as the artillerymen were then called, hauled up their cannon by such by-paths as they could find ; and the Black Watch, though op- posite to the most difficult bank, were among the first to scramble up the steep, and form on the other side in the face of the enemy. The squadrons composing almost the whole right wing of the army passed successively over this difficult ground, and firming on the green height beyond in three solid columns, each four deep, again began to move slowly and steadily forward. This great column, amounting to about twenty-one thousand men, was preceded by only six small pieces of cannon, with six more intermixed in the hue. The regula- rity and bravery of this movement astonished the French, although effected under a cross fire from the redoubts, that at times mowed down whole ranks of them, which were as rapidly filled up; and the body marched on to the sound of the stirring drum, and the animating scream of the Scots bagpipe from amidst the Black Watch, as if performing the leisurely evolutions of a review. In front, the ground still rose, and bey I, under cover of it, were several ct.!tonns of the French Guards. The officers of the latter hearing the loud re- ports of approaching artillery, proposed among each other to advance and take the English cannon. Ascending with their grenadiers to the top of the rising ground, they were astonished on perceiving a whole army coming forward. A volley from a part of the English line, together with the fire of the advancing cannon, brought about sixty of them to the ground ; and, having no orders to attempt further, the Frenchmen hastened back in confusion to their former position.

Still this great column marched on, holding its fire until the more advanced regiments, namely, the English Guards and the RoyalScotch, &c. under Lord Al- bemarle, General Campbell, and General Churchill, a natural son of the famous Marlborough, arrived within forty paces of the French beyond the height, which they saw now ranged in line to oppose them. A cluster of French offi- cers, doss-ed in splendid doublets of blue and gold, setteral wearing short embroi- dered cloaks on the left shoulder, according to the fanciful magnificence of Louis the Fifteenth's fashions, appeared in front ; consisting of the Duke de Biron; the Counts d'Auteroche and Chabannes, the Commandant of the Swiss Guards in his showy dress of many colours, and others ; while several of the King's pages, in the sumptuous costume of the court, could now be seen &alloping along the field, carrying intelligence to his Majesty of the progress 01 the en- gagement. The allied column was now in advance of the cross fire ; the rage of the battle and the roar of the cannonade was at this moment enth-ely behind them, and the absence of smoke in front and the regularit-E of the enemy's squadrons, enabled Hector to obtain a clear glance of the whole before hint. Over the heads of the French columns in frout of the British, and crowning a pretty height behind them, near an ancient sacristy, called the Chapel of our Lady in the Wood, the white and richly-blazoned standard of France was seen floating before the green foliage of the wood, over as imposing a company as ever stotxl on a field of battle. This was his Majesty, LOUIS the Fifteenth himself, in buckler a.nd breast •plate, military Spanish cap and long feather, accompanied by the Dauphin his son, in light blue, richly embroidered ; the latter, surrounded by twelve noble youths, of about his own age, of the first fatnilies in France; and the whole presenting an array that well might, by the captivating illusions of high rank and splendour, reconcile the ardent imaginations of such as Hector and the Highlanders tol the Royal game of death and carnage. Behind them, Hector could see the boughs of the trees towards the Scheldt covered with per- sous, who, following the King and hanging on the French camp, had climbed to the highest branches to witness the attle. The English generals now somewhat in front, saluted the gay group of French nobility before mentioned, by taking off their hats. The Duke tie Biron and the Count de Chabannes advanced, and returned the compliment. The whole of the officers then returned to the heads of their respective regiments ; and the pause that followed all this courtly politeness had, to witnesses as well as aatturs in this scene, a strange and impressive effect.

Too gallant to be the first to begin the work of death, each seemed to wait for the other ; when Lord Charlis flay, then a captain of the English Guards, called out in French, " Gentlemen of the French Guard, fire !" One of the French counts before named, answered with a loud voice—as Voltaire relates the circumstance—" Gentlemen, we never fire first ; the you first !" Lord Charles then gave the wool in English, " fire! " which beginning at the right, went rapidly along the line in divisions, and thus the running fire went on with terrific celerity.

Its effects were soon felt on the opposite ranks of these gallant men. At the very first fire, the two colonels of the Swiss Guards and four of their officers; with seventy-five rank and file, dropped down. Eleven more officers were wounded in the same regiment, and in some of the neighbouring battalions nearly the whole of the front ranks were swept away ; while the ears of the re- mainder were almost stunned by a runMng fire, which the survivors described afterwards as absolutely infernal. On still marched this great and compact triple line, firing regularly as it advanced with the steady coolness of a review- day, and so close did they frequently come upon the enemy's infantry, that, it being then the custom for English officers to carry canes, the French could see the majors laving them over the soldiers' muskets, to make them fire Iv* and straight. Unable long to stand against this murderous column, the re- mainder of the Swiss Guards and of several other regiments successively aban- doned their ground. New columns came up and attacked in succession, shel- tering themselves often, while they fired, behind the heaped rows of their dead comrades.

But the great column still moved on, deepening and becoming more compact as iradvanced ; the men stepping over the dead bodies of their comrades, as they still boldly faced the enemy ; and, whenever their men dropped, filling up the breach with a coolness as if individually emulous of expected death. Soon the open ground begun to be narrowed by the projecting wood ; and, afraid of being taken in the rear, the two extremes of the column folded back on each flank, this putting the whole into the form of a hollow square, open at the rear, now just above the ravine which the column had passed some time before. Th front still advanced like a thick beam of men ; supported at the extremities by two strong pillars and upon these, on each side, the successive charges of the French could make no impression. In vain did the Bavarian Flulans, with their long lances and grim black costume, clad in steel breast-plates and helmete, with the fan-shaped feather in front, raise their startling huzza in the face of the Royal Scots, or breast up their horses to the points of the bayonets of the English Guards. The same terrific fire was poured in among them ; the same steady resistance met their successive charges; until, spent with continued ef forts, and the flower of their officers, including the brave Duke of Grammont, being successively cut down, they retired in dismay front a body of infantry that seemed absolutely impregnable.

The next scene is of another kind, but equally different from former specimens of this author. Hector has procured a letter from Lord Hervey to his first love, he Princess Elizabeth, request- ing her interest in favour of the ringleaders of the mutineers. Herr. we have the interview.

She was alone, anti Hector cast his eyes with a hasty glance round the sacred apartment. It was a small but lofty closet, crowded with rich articles of mas- sive cabinet-work, partly of the Dutch taste of the days of William of Orange, and partly of the German style, which had been of course the favourite of her mother; every article of which last she set an additional value upon for the good Queen's sake. Heavy porcelain jars, then much in fashion, filled the re- cesses between several black and gilded cabinets; and a few vigorous old painting, from Holbein to Sir James Thornhill, relieved the gloom of the shining black oak which cased the walls. Books, however, of all sizes and shapes, arranged or piled with that exact method which, front the first, has been a well-known attribute of the Guelph family, were the chief iuferior moveables with which the room abounded. The only object that helped to take off the air of seclusion and study which characterized this retreat of a Royal maiden, was a solitary thrush, which hopped its narrow round and whistled its louely note in a small cage that hung by the window. There the poor bird and its secluded mistress might be refreshed by the contemplation of the square parterres of the garden behind the Palace, and the distant gothic turrets of the Abbey of Westminster, which just appeared over the lofty trees of St. James's Park. Without as yet noticing Hector, the Princess sat reading carefully the letter of which he had been the bearer, and he had time to observe her appearance. A long bodied, dark-green gown, of plain but rich luso ing, the (wen part at the neck meeting low on the bust, according to the fashion of the tune, was her only outer dress. This was entirely without ornament, saving a small stomacher of large diamonds, that, with the utmost plainness, served to unite its folds at the bosom. Nor was there aught else distinguishing in the Princess's apparel, excepting that "enormity of cap," puffed out in balloon fashion high above her head, which she wore exactly after the manner of Queen Caroline, her mother, veliose very dress she loved to imitate. Her person was short, like that of her father ; and, to the large full eyes and fair round face of her family, nothing is to be added to complete her description, but to notice that plaintive look of be- nevolence and resignation which was now habitual to her since her mother's death, and which so well agreed with the recluse and pious character of this "best of women."

"Yes, Lord Hervey," she said, after a time, breaking the conventional silence of the apartment in a half soliloquy ;;" Lord Hervey arid I are old friends." And she continued to gaze eadly on the letter, as if musing over the interesting re- collections of former years, and thinking anew of the unnatural restraints and secret repinings of a king's daughter ; but she folded up the letter suddenly, as if checking her feelings, then shook her head meditatively, as she seemed to re- ceive consolation by reading a few sentences in the large Bible that hay open be- fore her. Placing her hands over her eyes for a few moments, as it in mental communication with Heaven, she ended by gradually raising her head and fixing her look abstractedly on Hector's countenance.

" My Lord Hervey refer* me to you, Sir," she said, "for an explanation of the cases of some unfortunate men, your countrymen, now lying in the Tower under sentence of death."

Hector bowed respectfully, and in a few words gave the outline of the story of his friends.

" By your statement, Sir," she replied, "these poor men must have acted from ignorance, rather than any wilful disloyalty, and under an impression that faith had been broken with themselves."

" Undoubtedly, Madam," said Hector, "this is strictly the fact." " And they have friends, you say, who respect them, and parents and rela- t ives in their own country, to whom, no doubt, their lives are dear ?" added the .Princess, her countenance becoming animated with considerate sympathy. " Madam," said Hector, "your Highness may not be told of the hopes that would be blasted and the hearts that would be broken by their death. It does not belong to your Highness's station to know what it is for the poor widow to lose her only hope, and all that ties her to a lonely life; or for the maiden to Jose her long-betrothed and the only choice of her heart. Surely, Madam, by your Highness's influence these men may be Hayed."

The Princess wrung her hands into each other, as she seemed to relapse let° sonic painful meditation ; and then eaid with emotion, " It belongs to my sta- tion, young man, to know sorrows, which the simple and the lowly can little dream of. Think you to come from the bare but free hills of your country, to look on a palace for a refuge from the common calamities of life? Believe me, youth, /have found the contrary. But here is a refuge," she added, hying her hand on the large Bible before her, " which is equally open to the lofty and the low ; and it has been mine fur many years: for, to deal frankly with you, as your countenance pleases nit, this present life to me has been but an unsatis- factory portion. But I am diverging from the subject of the affecting tale you have told me. Willingly would I du my utmost to save these young men. But what attention will worldly men give to the unaided representations of a lonely woman, who has long retired from the ambitious emulations of a court, and who is even ridiculed by the pitiable votaries of a profligate infidelity for the private employments in which she finds her ouly consolation. Yet, I will not refuse to write to their Lordships, and God may grant that my prayer may be heard."

" And the prayer of the widow, and the blessings of the distracted maiden," said Hector fervently, " will ascend to Heaven like incense, in bumble offerings on beliall of your Highness for this goodness."

" I would not have you, young man," added the Princess, solemnly, " to be too sanguine as to the result of iny application. When faction runs high, the hearts of public men are hard ; and the government of a great people IS con- ducted upon general principles of supposed safety, which make the tears of the widow, that you talk of, or even the bitter groan of the dying, but like the struggles of the victim on the altar of sacrifice. Or, if I may speak to you thus, these things are to worldly men but like the softened murmur of the far- off storm, when the cry of despair is lost in the distance, and unheeded in the selfishness of comfort and security. I see you are concerned for those you love ; and the feeling is estimable. But you are yet young ; and death itself is not so great an evil as many suppose it." These two passages may give some idea of the stirring and lofty interest of the Black Watch. To us, the more homely por- tions are the most agreeable. Mr. PICKEN brings before the reader, and in a manner which reminds its of the Simple Story, the joys and sorrows, the hopes and fears, and the natural affiec tions of humble personages, and the thoughtless disregard or cold consideration they receive, not only from princes and rulers, but from those powerful masses who eventually sway even rulers them- selves. Something of this is perhaps inevitable : the individual case, however heart-rending, must be disregarded when principles affecting society are at stake. Many a wild flower is rooted up by the plough. But it is an important inquiry, to learn how far these established rules are founded in nature, how far in mere convention. Let us hope, when grave treatises and light novels are written to bear more or less upon the wellbeing of the poor, that the mode of establishing "the greatest happiness of the greatest number" will shortly be solved. But if solved, when will it be effected ? When will the feelings of the humblest, the honour of the poorest, the life of the vilest, be held in equal tenderness, by legislators, with the feelings, the honour, the troperties, and the lives of" respect- able people ?" When education shall have enabled every man to be represented, and when those who are to legislate for the happi- ness of the people shall originally have been taken from the people's ranks. The prospect is somewhat distant.

We take our leave of the Black Watch, with hearty wishes for its sale. Its faults arc chiefly to be attributed to the hasty cir- cumstances under which it was produced—perhaps to its being unrevised as well as posthumous. The fastidious might deside- rate somewhat more of vitality in the characters—of distinctness, force, and colour in the descriptions; but these deficiencies very probably would have been supplied, and some weaknesses of style, some inconsistencies in the conduct of the story remedied, by the labor lima and a judicious exercise of the art of blotting.