Papurau Newydd Cymru

Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru

Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

18 erthygl ar y dudalen hon

fontora Ccrttsponicnt.

Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu

fontora Ccrttsponicnt. e teem it right to 3tate that we do not at all tuuai :iftJlf.Ü! ourselves wita ou- Correspondent's opinions.] The presentation of the freedom of the City of jonJon is always a dignified and imposing ceremonial. he Lord Mayor wearing his massive gold chain of >0iee, the Aldermen in their scarlet robes, the Com- non Councillors in their mazarine gowns, the Recorder tnd the Common Serjeant arranged in judicial cos- the Remembrancer, the Chamberlain, the vlace-bearer, the Town Clerk, and all the other city >ffi dais, all wearing a distinctive garb, together with he brilliant company assembled in Guildhall, combine o make up a scene which is not soon forgotten. There vas a time, long ago in civic history, when the free- lorn of the municipality was a substantial benefit, and as which relieved its p< isse.-isor f rom the payment of suit n.l service demanded from outsiders. But such times as hose no longer exist, and now the freedom of the City ■f London is an honorary compliment, but one which 3 highly prized by public men. As the city can admit vhom it pleases to its freedom, the honour is not con- iued to native-born subjects of the Queen, but, as was wn in the case "of General Grant, it may be conferred lpo& a distinguished foreigner. Each newly-made reeman the roll of citizenship, and to those who an interest in ihe study of autographs, the long ist of Signatures might be regarded as one of the most valuable which was ever brought together. "Warriors ind statesmen, philosophers and poets, travellers and philanthropists, all are there. "Men so diverse in their tastes as the late Duke of Wellington and Mr. Cobden have enrolled themselves in the list of city freemen and now General Grant*, another distin. guished soldier, has taken- up the freedom, his signa- ture being not many below that of Prince Leopold, for the Royal princes are entitled to it by patrimony. The document conveying the honour is always enclosed in a gold casket of the value of one hundred guineas, and this is invariably an ornate and elaborate specimen of the goldsmith's art,. The brilliancy of the London season has been somewhat interfered with, so far as Court festivities are con- cerned, by the death of the Queen of Holland and the Grand Duke of Hesse, uncle to the husband of the Prin- cess Alice. The Court mourning for the Queen was still being worn when the news of the Grand Duke's de- cease was received, and then the date for the con- tinuance of the mourning had to be renewed. This means the postponement of the State balls and con. certs which had been announced at Buckingham Palace, and notwithstanding the glorious summer weather, it means also the appearance of the Prin- cesses in garments of sombre hue. This was noticed morpecially at Ascot, where the midsummer sun was shining splendidly day after day, and the ladies upon the Graad Stand were arrayed in dresses of varying and tastefully-arranged colours. But a glance at the Royal box showed the Princess of Wales, the Princess Christian, and the Duchess of Teck in amber-tinted attire, the dresses having been soberly toned down to suit the solemnity of such an occasion as a. time of mourning. The Princess of Wales, always popular with all classes of the com- munity, received all the warmer welcome because she brought her two eldest sons—Prince Albert Victor and Prince George Frederick—in their naval suits, and when she was so enthusiastically cheered Her Royal Highness led them one by each.hand to the front of the box, a.nd was applauded even more vociferoasly than before. In all ages Englishmen have proud of their navy, and they like to see that the Heir-Apparent is sufficiently mindful of the national inclinations as to teach his sons to take an interest in the maritime supremacy of Great Britain. Whil. the public awaited so long the intelligence of the passage of the Danube, they had ample time to follnv the incidents of the war upon the other con- tinents, and unmistakeably their chief interest was in the investment of Kara. The gallant defence of this town. of Asiatic Turkey in the last war is a matter of history. While the allied armies were drawing nearer nd nearer to Sebastopol, the Russians were advancing KaM and on the 18th of June, 1855—the very of the unsuccessful attack on the Redan and the \hoff—the Russian General MouraviefF, with an f 40,000 infantry and 10,000 cavalry, advanced Kars, and commenced a regular siege. The defended by General Sir W. F. Williams, 5,900 men under his command, with three visions, and only three d*ys' anauionition. 't. month afrer month, the went <i £ S$pteuiber, when Russians of po1, ngand carrying ftp by m that the Rusaiffu^ ware repulsed tj&QQ ffi'Tj. aud General m «iT tifa»ti"9 was slower tharf bombardment ft is equally ".re in the end. Mean- •Witliaans,- knowing that Sebastopo tared, naturally expected be p Sieved from the siege of t a every effort to make pry- t hmiinc daV after ^ear the t, hopm0 d j distance. No '"I whvT^ f6Ver been explained. -isxovern £ arrison were V ou the f f^ ^Tera had b^a doing its deadly starving and af £ a flag of truce genfc from the work in the^tty into the Russian lines. The English belGaer himself went forth to meet his antagonist, cgyin accepting the proposal to surrender. Mouravieff said, "General Williams, you have made yourself a name in hIstory; and posterity will stand amazed at the endurance, the courage, and the discipline which tins siege has called forth in the remains of an army. Let us arrange a capitulation which shall satisfy the demands of war, without outraging humanity." Kars was restored to Turkey by the Treaty of Peace, but there can be no doubt that it3 capture, thus making the final event of the war favourable to Russia, mora advantageous terms were secured to that Power under the Treaty than she would otherwise have obtained. The 28th of June is a date which is more exten- sively celebrated in garrison and dockyard towns than in London, but it is worth a passing notice, for it recalls an event which was of great interest to the generation by which it was witnessed. It is the anniversary of Her Majesty's Coronation, now 39 years ago. The enthusiasm of the people for the young Queen, then only 19 years of age, is described by the survivors of that scene as having been without parallel in modern history. Every visitor to West- minster Abbey will remember the antique wooden chair with its straight back, in which for centmies all the sovereigns of England have sat while the Arch- bishop of Canterbury for the time being has placed the crown upon their heads. For 500 years have the ruleys of the realm—Plantagenet and Tudor, Stuart and Hanoverian—once taken their seats in that historic chair, and have begun their respective reijns amid varied feelings on the part of their subjects, hope, fear, and indifference alternately prevailing. But as Queen Victoria walked up the Abbey nave on that hot June day, her slight figure encumbered with the coronation robes which lay so heavily UDO" her, a graceful chronicler of the scene has told us that if the united aspirations of the people could have, been concentrated into a single breast, it would be in the expression of a hope that the burden of those robes would be the greatest which the young Queen would ever have to bear. London was that day given up to rejoicing, and as the long procession returned from Westminster Abbey the vast assembled multitude in the streets rent the air with their acclamations. In the evening the Duke of Wellington, as commander- in-chief, gave a magnificent entertainment at Apsley House, at which Marshal Soult, the French Ambas- sador, was amongst the guests. Just a quarter of a century before that day, these two distinguished men had met under far different circumstances. It was at the battle of Toulouse, when Wellington commanded the allied British and Spanish army, and the French were led by Marshal Soult. The latter retreated after twelve boars' hard fighting, Neither of the commanders then knew that Napoleon had abdicated the throne of France, and had retired to Elba, where cur preset Earl Russell saw him and conversed with him. Each succeeding 18th of June witnesses a gradual diminution in the number of those who gather together to commemorate Wellington's last and greatest victory upon the field of Waterloo. Those whom the cannon and the sabre spared on that sanguinary a ay nave gone- down one by one before the attacks of Time during the sixty-two years which have elapsed since that eventful Sunday when Wellington and Napoleon met for the first and the last time, and the former was finally overthrown. How many of the 150,000 men who then met in deadly combat to decide the fate of Europe, survive to tell the tale to-day? The fine young fellow of five-and-twenty who lived out the storm of bullets rained down upon the farm-houses of Hougoument and La Have Sainte, the keys of the position, would now be on the veive of ninety years of age, andti very few indeed is it given to see three generations. Those who have studied Maclise's famous picture in the Houses of Parliament, "Meeting of Wellington and Blucher after the Battle of Waterloo," will have noticed the grave and thoughtful face of the Duke as he grasps the hand of the Prussian general. Blucher, on the other hand, is smiling and vivacious, his face is turned partly away in the direction of the retreating French. Jena has been avenged, and you can see that he is impatient to be off in pursuit of the flying enemy. It is recorded that after the sun had set on that Midsummer night, W ellington rode over the scene of battle, and as he listened'to the groans of the wounded, and witnessed the reeking carnage en that awful harvest-field of death, he wept like a child. To-day the two principal figures in the conflict of that Sunday are at rest beneath the domes of two massive buildings in the respective capitals of the countries for which they fought. The gilded dome of the Invalides surmounts the tomb of Napoleon, one of the most magnificent shrines ever raised to the memory of a public man. As the stranger enters by the Place Vauban, he comes suddenly in full view of this marvellous sepulchre, which contains all that is mortal of a commander whom the French people will never cease to idolise. Wellington lies beneath the dome of St. Paul's, but as the tomb is in the crypt of the building, it is seen by comparatively few of the thousands of visitors to the metropolitan Cathedral. Nothing is more calculated to strike awe into the human mind than mystery—anything which it is im- possible to understand or to account for. Thus the earthquake from the earliest ages, has been at once the most mysterious and the most awful visitation which has represented the hidden forces of nature. We can comprehend the whirlwind and the storm, because we can trace the causes which produce them; we are not astonished at the uprooting of trees or at the agitation of the sea, for we know that both are produced by the tremendous power of the wind. But when man witnesses the reeling to and fro of moun- tain peaks, the fall of huge masses of rock, the opening of enormous fissures in the surface of the earth, and listens to subterranean noises resembling the rumbling of numerous chariot wheels, and the cracking of thongs innumerable, well may he ask the question, "Howcan these things be ? Is the earthquake pro- duced by subterranean clouds, which, bursting out into lightning, shake the vaults that confined them ? Or are there many vast cavities underground, some abounding with waters, which generate steam, others with exhaltations arising from inflammable substances, others again being strongly charged with electricity ? Science has yet failed to answer these questions, but they recur irresistibly to the mind after reading the account of the wave of devastation which an earth- quake has lately carried over the Pacific archipelago. Sometimes the shock is but slight, such as those which are generally felt in the British isles; at others it is sufficient to shake nearly the whole of the solid globe, such as that in the year 742, when more than 500 towns were destroyed, and the loss of life surpassed all calculation. No part of the world has been free from them, and even in London, in 1580 a part of old St. Paul's and the whole of the Temple churches fell from the results of an earthquake shock. But the greatest sufferers are the countries which stand upon what are called Volcanic belts, such as Naples and the lands lying under the shadows of the Cordilleras. In the course of seventy-five years, from 1783 to 1857, the kingdom of Naples lost at least 110,000 inhabitants by the effects of earth- quakes, or more than 1,500 a year out of an average population of 6,000,000. Fortunately for the countries to which it is such an appalling visitor, an earthquake is not of long continuance. Moving at a velocity of 500 feet per second, it rapidly leaves the scene which it has-devastated. "It soon passeth away and is gone."

WAR NEWS.

[No title]

ON THE USE OF TORPEDOES.

MISS MARY CARPENTER.

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FT CENTER.

TB 5JNCH

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[No title]

--INQUEST UPON AN EX-ARMY…

A GERMAN VIEW OF ENGLISH POLICY.

ANOTHER "TICHBORNE" DEMONSTRATION.

FOUNDERING OF THE 1ACIFIC…

THE LATE LORD JUSTICE MELLISH.

^—■———■ RUSSIAN CENSORSHIP.

AMERICAN HUMOUR.

Iltisallamous nt£IIif\.tntt.