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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7a92d6b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #53855 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53855) diff --git a/old/53855-0.txt b/old/53855-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 05339ef..0000000 --- a/old/53855-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14156 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Iberia Won, by Terence McMahon Hughes - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Iberia Won - A poem descriptive of the Peninsular War - -Author: Terence McMahon Hughes - -Release Date: January 1, 2017 [EBook #53855] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IBERIA WON *** - - - - -Produced by Josep Cols Canals, John Campbell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE - - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - The ‘Table of Contents’ has been created and inserted before the - Preface by the Transcriber. - - Omitted text in quotations was indicated by ‘ * * ’ in the original - book, sometimes ‘ * * * ’, and this has been retained in the etext. - - Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been - corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within - the text and consultation of external sources. - - More detail can be found at the end of the book. - - - - - IBERIA WON. - - - - - LONDON: - WILLIAM STEVENS, PRINTER, BELL YARD, - TEMPLE BAR. - - - - - IBERIA WON; - - A Poem - - DESCRIPTIVE OF - THE PENINSULAR WAR: - WITH IMPRESSIONS FROM RECENT VISITS TO - THE BATTLE-GROUNDS, - - AND - - Copious Historical and Illustrative Notes. - - BY T. M. HUGHES, - Author of “An Overland Journey to Lisbon,” “Revelations of Spain,” - “The Ocean Flower,” &c. - - LONDON: - LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS. - MDCCCXLVII. - - - - - TABLE OF CONTENTS - - Preface iii - - Introduction 1 - - CANTO I 43 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto I 59 - - CANTO II 69 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto II 87 - - CANTO III 99 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto III 117 - - CANTO IV 127 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto IV 144 - - CANTO V 149 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto V 165 - - CANTO VI 173 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto VI 190 - - CANTO VII 199 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto VII 216 - - CANTO VIII 231 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto VIII 247 - - CANTO IX 259 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto IX 276 - - CANTO X 283 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto X 299 - - CANTO XI 305 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto XI 322 - - CANTO XII 327 - Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto XII 344 - - - - -PREFACE. - - -The following work is the result of six years’ residence in the -Peninsula, devoted to literary pursuits. It contains the fruits -(be they mature or otherwise) of many excursions through Spain -and Portugal, of considerable opportunities of observation, -and much familiarity with localities and people, as well as of -meditative habits in an isolated life, which during the last three -years especially has been compelled by severe sickness. Love and -admiration of the British Islands, whose climate would be fatal to -me, except during two or three summer months, have been fostered by -constrained absence; and my attention having been strongly turned -to the great Peninsular struggle, I have consulted every accessible -work, and every surviving authority within my reach, that could -illustrate a theme with which my mind has been filled for years. -While I have endeavoured to sustain the glory of England, I -have striven to award a meed of truthful but generous justice to -her Allies, and have not thought it requisite to depreciate the -well-earned fame of France. Yet, even while celebrating the most -splendid military achievements, it has been my aim to inculcate a -horror of the bloody arbitrament of War. - -Determined to perfect the work, so far as in me lay, I last year -traversed the whole Peninsula from East to West, at the constant -risk of a very precarious life (which might thus, perhaps, become -not utterly valueless), and acquired the advantages to be derived -to my labours from visiting the following battle-grounds:--Bayonne -and the Adour, the Nive, St. Pierre, the Nivelle, the Bidasoa, -San Marcial, Vera, Sauroren, San Sebastian, Vitoria, Talavera, -Almaraz, Albuera, and Badajoz, having previously visited most of -the battle-fields in Portugal and in Northern and Southern Spain. - -The task which I have undertaken, and accomplished according to my -means, was an ambitious one, yet honourable. I scarcely dare to -hope for success. I feel the full force of the immortal Scott’s -address to the illustrious Wellington, in the Introduction to his -_Vision of Don Roderick_:-- - - But we weak minstrels of a laggard day, - Skilled but to imitate an elder page, - Timid and raptureless, can we repay - The debt thou claim’st in this exhausted age? - Thou giv’st our lyres a theme, that might engage - Those that could send thy name o’er sea and land, - While sea and land shall last; for Homer’s rage - A theme; a theme for Milton’s mighty hand-- - How much unmeet for us, a faint degenerate band! - -But, while I regard with befitting humility the result of this -labour of love, I trust that the spirit in which I have conceived -and written has at least been pure and irreproachable. - -It is with feelings of the utmost satisfaction and pride that I -notice, contemporaneously with the appearance of this work, the -concession of a medal to our Peninsular veterans by the high-minded -Sovereign of England, whose propitious name and reign are -identified with victory:-- - - Ἀλλὰ γὰρ ἁ μεγαλώνυμος ἦλθε Νίκα. - Soph. _Antig._ 148. - - VICTORIA came with mighty name and glory. - -With equal pain have I witnessed, having traversed Spain at the -period, the recent success of French intrigue and the spectacle -of renewed subserviency. The wedding-ring may replace the sword, -but the instrument, because less bloody, is not less fatal to -Liberty; and the words of Byron, at the close of the first Canto -of _Childe Harold_, become invested with prophetic and appalling -truthfulness:-- - - Not all the blood at Talavera shed, - Not all the marvels of Barosa’s fight, - Not Albuera lavish of the dead, - Have won for Spain her well asserted right. - When shall her Olive-Branch be free from blight? - When shall she breathe her from the blushing toil? - How many a doubtful day shall sink in night, - Ere the Frank robber turn him from his spoil, - And Freedom’s stranger-tree grow native of the soil! - - - _Lisbon, 1st March, 1847._ - - - - -INTRODUCTION. - - -Of all the great achievements which make up the sum of British -glory, the Peninsular War and its results form one of the grandest, -brightest, and most unimpeachable. These gigantic efforts were made -in the holy cause of Freedom; they were disinterested in a high -and unparalleled degree; their success was uniform, brilliant, and -startling; and their guerdon was the liberation and advancement of -mankind. - -For six years England had constantly employed in the Spanish -Peninsula from thirty to seventy thousand of her troops, who -besides sustaining combats innumerable, took four great fortresses, -attacked or defended in ten important sieges, and were decisively -victorious in nineteen pitched battles, killing, wounding, or -making prisoners, two hundred thousand of the enemy. She liberally -subsidized Spain and Portugal, and maintained the troops of both -countries, regular and irregular, with supplies of ammunition, -clothing, and arms, while upon her own military operations she -expended upwards of one hundred millions sterling. Twice she -expelled the French from Portugal, and finally drove them from -Spain besides, surmounting and winning step by step the terrific -bulwark of the Pyrenees. With her naval squadrons she repeatedly -harassed the Invader by well-combined descents upon the coasts, and -rescued or preserved Lisbon and Cadiz, Alicante and Carthagena. -Her land forces tracked the enemy from Vimieiro to Busaco, from -Busaco to Navarre, over some of the most frightfully broken ground -in Europe, signally defeating them wherever they came in collision, -and sweeping them at times like a wreck before the ocean-wave; and -forty thousand of her children fell in the Peninsula to attest her -devotion to the cause of Freedom. - -In this most memorable liberation of Spain from the French invader, -it is the glory of England to have realized with singular exactness -the splendid encomium of Livy: “Esse aliquam in terris gentem quæ -suâ impensâ, suo labore ac periculo, bella gerat pro libertate -aliorum. Nec hoc finitimis, aut propinquæ vicinitatis hominibus, -aut terris continenti junctis præstet. Maria trajiciat: ne quod -toto orbe terrarum injustum imperium sit, et ubique jus, fas, lex, -potentissima sint.”--_Hist. lib._ xxxiii. - -The pre-eminent importance of the War of Independence in Spain, -and of the part which England took in that struggle, has been -acknowledged by rival French writers, whose love of historic truth -was too strong for the countervailing influences of prejudice, -passion, and professional jealousy. M. Thiers, in his _Histoire du -Consulat et de l’Empire_, speaks of it as “that long and terrible -struggle, that great Peninsular war, which lasted more than six -years, which exhausted more treasure and drained off a greater -tide of human blood than the murderous campaign of Russia, and -in which all the most renowned generals and marshals of France -were severally defeated, to the surprise of Napoléon, and to the -astonishment of the world, by an English general, newly returned -from India, whose name was as yet almost a stranger to every mouth.” - -“Elle était à juste titre désignée comme la cause première et -principale de la chute de Napoléon,” is the remark of General Foy, -_Histoire de la Guerre de la Péninsule. Avant-propos_. And in one -of his private letters he says, “Moscow brought Alexander, Spain -brought Wellington, into the walls of our sacred city!” - -I am therefore sure of the intrinsic interest of my subject, and -am tremulous only about its treatment. Of this much I at least am -certain--that no one will exclaim, as Horace did 2,000 years ago: - - ----“Quis feræ - Bellum curet Iberiæ?” - -or be indifferent to the exploits of Englishmen in a country, -with whose people the same Horace coupled a most flattering -epithet--“_peritus Iber_.” The splendour and the decadence, the -glory and misfortunes, the ancient grandeur and the existing -distresses of Spain, the great historic parts which we have played -either in unison or in rivalry,--above all, the terrible struggle -which we maintained together against a Power with which it was at -first despair to cope, and yet brought to a triumphant issue, make -it impossible that any record of that struggle can be received with -indifference; and the customary fate of rashness and incompetency -is the only one that I have to apprehend. - -That these great and glorious exploits should not have hitherto -formed the subject of any extended poem may at first appear -surprising. But the reason is obvious--the time had not yet -arrived. The glare of contemporary fame is unfavourable to -poetic celebration, except in the form of Pindar’s Olympionics, -in dithyrambic odes imbued with the intoxication of victory, -or otherwise in such short reflective sonnets as embodied a -Wordsworth’s calm and philosophic spirit. The mists of time must -be interposed before the hero rises to the Demigod, an entirely new -generation must have succeeded, and the poet must himself belong -to that generation. The halo of Imagination must invest what was -before Reality, the subject must have attained the dignity of the -_myth_, or heroic legend, and Ideal Art must be unencumbered by the -pressure of the Actual. That time appears to have arrived. Forty -years have elapsed since the commencement of this mighty struggle; -those of our Peninsular heroes whom the shock of battle spared, -have nearly all been gathered to their fathers, and those who -remain are like late surviving Nestors whose heads are crowned with -the snowy tonsure of Time. - -Into the construction of this poem it is unfit that I should enter -further than to state, that the action, which is in some degree -formed on the purest ancient model, comprises a period of about -two months, commencing a month before and ending a month after -the taking of San Sebastian by storm. The besieged city forms the -central point, and the events there, with superadded imaginative -incidents, are combined with the fighting round San Sebastian, of -which the object was on one side to relieve, and on the other to -prevent the relief of that fortress. These are what are usually -known by the name of the Battles of the Pyrenees, and commenced -with the first battle of Sauroren, which was fought on the 28th -July, 1813; the storming of San Sebastian occurred on the 31st of -August; and the action of the poem concludes with the passage of -the Bidassoa, and the advance of the Allied Army to the Greater -Rhune, by which the Spanish soil was freed from the presence of -the Invader--events which occurred on the 7th and 8th of October. -The second siege of San Sebastian commenced contemporaneously -with the first battle of Sauroren, on the 28th July.[A] The actual -time therefore employed in the action is precisely two months and -twelve days. The battles of the Pyrenees introduced are essentially -interwoven with the main subject, which is the capture of the -great fortress of San Sebastian, the principal event of the latter -part of the War while it was confined to the Spanish soil. All -the characters are grouped by the story round the central figure -of the besieged city, the incidents of the _peripeteia_ or plot -are interwoven with that event and with each other, and--if it be -not presumption to use such a word--the _Epos_ is complete. The -critics, I have no doubt, will find abundant faults; and the rest I -commit to their tender mercies. - -Though the time, as essential to such compositions, is in -comparison with the duration of the War extremely limited, all -its leading incidents are introduced in the permitted shapes of -narrative, episode, allusion, and apostrophe. The historical -part of the work invites the closest examination, as well as -the local colouring, to which a six years’ constant residence -in the Peninsula has enabled me, I trust, to impart some truth -and vivacity. I have lived in the midst of revolts, revolutions, -and military movements; my experience almost equals that of an -actual campaigner; and I have witnessed even portions of three -sieges--those of Seville and Barcelona in 1843, and that of Almeida -in Portugal in 1844. Copious historical and explanatory notes are -annexed to each canto, and the description of the battle grounds is -made accurate by personal observation of many of them, which I have -embodied in the notes. The theatre of that portion of the War which -enters into the action of the poem itself presents very felicitous -subjects for description, the ground being the gigantic Pyrenees, -and the combats there sustained being more like those of Titans -than of men. In addition to much oral testimony, the authorities -I have consulted are very numerous, and as fidelity has been my -constant aim their language will be found frequently cited in the -notes. The principal of these are Napier’s _History of the War in -the Peninsula_, Southey’s _History of the Peninsular War_, Foy’s -_Histoire de la Guerre de la Péninsule_, Gurwood’s _Despatches of -the Duke of Wellington_, Jones’s _Journals of the Sieges in Spain_, -Belmas’s _Journals of Sieges_, compiled from official documents by -order of the French government, Captain Cooke’s _Memoirs_, Captain -Pringle’s _Ditto_, Captain Batty’s _Campaign of the left Wing of -the Allied Army in the Western Pyrenees_, Gleig’s _Subaltern, -Annals of the Peninsular War_, De la Pène’s _Campagnes de 1813 et -1814_, and Pellot’s _Mémoires des Campagnes des Pyrénées_. - -A difficulty inseparable from this subject is its great historical -and political interest, which although in one respect an advantage -in another is a considerable drawback. With events so well known -and comparatively so recent it is impossible to take liberties; -invention is restrained, and the imagination is confined within -limits more strict than the poetical faculty might desire for its -operations. If this objection has been felt with regard to Tasso’s -_Gerusalemme_, the personages of which were French and Italian -counts and princes familiar to the reader of general history, -and whose acts and characters were well known though they lived -four centuries before he wrote, it is clearly far more applicable -in the present instance. The answer at once is that an entirely -different treatment must be resorted to, that celestial machinery, -witchcraft, and all analogous means must be excluded, and that -actual truth must be made the basis of the whole composition. -To truth I have accordingly adhered, and invite the strictest -historical criticism, consistent with poetical diction and imagery, -of my account of these campaigns. The events were fortunately of -that brilliant description, and their theatre, the Pyrenees, so -essentially romantic, that the true and the marvellous are here one -and the same. Historical accuracy is here an element of beauty; -and my minor plot is alone invented, yet is meant to be strictly -probable. - -Nearly the entire of our modern military system dates from the -commencement of the Peninsular War. The cumbrous old system which -fought a whole campaign for a comfortable place for winter quarters -(a great aim with Turenne) was broken up rapidly by the vigour of -Napoléon, and our first débût under the Duke of York had taught -us that we must change our plan. In 1808, the very year of our -first victories in the Peninsula (Roriça and Vimieiro) the use of -hair-powder was for the first time discontinued in the British -army. Rifle corps were then first formed--in the first instance -as rather a hopeless experiment, our soldiers having been deemed -too slow and heavy for this practice; but, as the result proved, -with perfect success. From the Polish lancers whom we first saw -at Albuera we borrowed the idea of our corps of lancers, as we -afterwards took from the French cuirassiers the modern equipment -of our lifeguards. The brilliant appearance of our light dragoons -astonished the French on their first appearance in the Peninsula. -“Nos soldats, frappés de l’élégance de l’habit des dragons légers, -de leurs casques brillants, de la tournure svelte des hommes et -des chevaux, leur avaient donné le nom de _lindors_.”--Foy, _Hist. -Guerre Pénins._ liv. 2. For this rather theatrical display we -substituted with better taste in 1813 an uniform similar to that -worn by the German light cavalry. The Shrapnell shell, or spherical -case shot, (the invention of an English Colonel of that name) was -used for the first time during the Peninsular War with great effect. - -Amongst the many great services performed by the Peninsular War -was raising the character of the British soldier from a very low -to a very high standard in the national estimation. The plays -of Wycherley, Congreve, Vanbrugh, and Mrs. Centlivre, the tales -of Fielding, Smollett, and Defoe, and the graver essays of Dr. -Johnson, sufficiently demonstrate that in the time of those writers -military men were held in the lowest esteem. The conquerors of -Blenheim and of the Heights of Abraham were currently regarded as -debauchees, cutthroats, and dishonest adventurers, and where a -more gentlemanly exterior was exhibited, it was commonly united to -the silliest foppery. Such from the Restoration to the end of the -last century was the common character even of the officers of our -army, and the ruffianly brutality of _Ensign Northerton_ towards -_Tom Jones_ was perfectly characteristic in an age when undoubtedly -it was too true that pimping too often obtained commissions, and -it was an accurate general description to say of any chance-met -couple of officers that “one had been bred under an attorney, and -the other was son to the wife of a nobleman’s butler.” (_History -of a Foundling_, book vii. c. 12). Though there were undoubtedly -many officers then of a far superior class, still the high tone -of chivalrous honour in our army, and the general refinement -and accomplishment of character, belong to the present century. -It is the great praise of the British private soldier that his -stubborn will and indomitable energy, his cheerful discipline and -unflinching valour, carry him through the most brilliant exploits -to a success almost miraculously uniform, without any of those -tangible hopes of promotion which inspire the continental soldier. -Such noble and manful discharge of duty appears to merit some more -adequate reward than the possible working of a miracle which may -raise him from the ranks. - -Wellington, in his admirable _Despatches_, says of the army -with which he won these Pyrenean victories: “I think I could do -any thing with them.” The resemblance of many portions of these -remarkable compositions to those of Cæsar has been more than once -pointed out; but the striking coincidence in the present instance -has never, I believe, before been noticed: “Non animadvertebatis,” -says Cæsar, likewise speaking of the exploits of his Peninsular -veterans, “decem habere legiones populum Romanum, quæ non solùm -vobis obsistere, sed etiam cœlum diruere possent.” _De Bello -Hispanico_, § ult. Even the number of veterans under the command of -the ancient and the modern General was nearly the same. - -Indomitable energy and hearty courage are an old strain in the -English blood. They are thus attested by Cromwell:--“Indeed we -never find our men so cheerful as when there is work to do.” -Carlyle, _Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell_, Supplement. -That no specific decoration has yet been accorded to our Peninsular -veterans appears a most amazing oversight. - -The courage displayed in our Peninsular sieges was of the highest -order. There can be no question that, since the commencement -of the world, no military daring, no dauntless valour, has -been witnessed, Greek or Roman, Saracenic or Chivalrous, to -exceed--perhaps none to equal, that of our storming parties -at Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, and San Sebastian. But it is very -doubtful whether human life was not unnecessarily squandered, and -whether the fire of the besieged should not have been silenced, -and their defences in the first instance destroyed. This opinion -seems now to be generally maintained both by engineer officers -and by experienced officers of the army. The dictum of the great -master of the art of fortification is in one respect vindicated, -though in another it has been broken down by British heroism: -“La précipitation dans les sièges ne hâte point la prise des -places, la retarde souvent, et ensanglante toujours la scène.” -Vauban, _Maximes_. General Foy, who sometimes emancipates himself -from his prejudices against England, and is often candid, while -he praises the courage of our men, says that it was needlessly -expended, and that the taking of fortified places by the rules of -art is reduced to a mathematical problem. But the bravery of our -troops is still unquestionable. “On eût dit que les ingénieurs -étaient là seulement pour construire les places d’armes desquelles -s’élanceraient les troupes destinées a l’assaut ou à l’escalade; -et encore eût-on pu à la rigueur, avec des soldats si déterminés, -se passer de leur ministère.” Foy, _Hist. Guerre Pénins._ liv. ii. -I must transcribe his testimony as to the conduct of our officers: -“L’officier anglais conduisait les troupes au feu sans effort, et -avec une bravoure admirable. * * La gloire de l’armée britannique -lui vient avant tout de son excellente discipline et de la bravoure -calme et franche de la nation.” But Foy adds a stigma which these -sieges affixed to our army, and these sieges alone in all our -Peninsular campaigns, and the impartiality which I am determined -to preserve, and from which in some years to come I am convinced -not the slightest departure will be tolerated, requires that it -be rigorously unveiled for the reprobation of a more enlightened -age:--“Une fois sortis de la discipline, les soldats anglais se -livrent à des excès qui étonneraient les Cosaques; ils s’enivrent -dès qu’ils le peuvent, et leur ivresse est froide, apathique, -anéantissante.” Humanity shudders at the brutalities perpetrated by -our soldiers at Badajoz and San Sebastian. - -It was not without much reason that the general opinion throughout -Europe attributed the extraordinary successes of the revolutionary -armies of France to the admirable arrangement of the light infantry -service. Napoléon may be said to have created the corps of -_voltigeurs_ and _tirailleurs_, upon which model were subsequently -formed the Carabineers and Rifles of the British service, and the -Caçadores of Spain and Portugal. The Prussian General Bulow in -1795, stated his opinion that “l’emploi de l’infanterie légère -est le dernier perfectionnement de la guerre, et qu’à la rigueur -on pourrait désormais se passer d’infanterie de ligne dans les -armées!” _Esprit du Système de Guerre moderne, par un ancien -officier prussien._ We may laugh at the extravagant absurdity of -the latter part of this statement, but it shows the effect which -Napoléon’s new system had produced. An opinion nearly similar -prevailed about the same time in England. “The continent has been -subdued by the French _tirailleurs_, and battles are sought to -be won by killing one after another the officers of the enemy’s -army.” _Letter to a General-Officer on the Establishment of Rifle -Corps in the British Army._ By Col. Robinson. These rifle corps -were established, and became eminently successful, being detached -in companies to the different infantry brigades. The coolness, -however, of our ordinary infantry skirmishers in the Peninsula -rendered an extensive introduction of rifle corps unnecessary. - -The rifle, as used in modern warfare, is the most terrible because -most treacherous of weapons. It would have fallen especially under -the ban of the Bayards and Montlucs of the sixteenth century, -who chivalrously deprecated the use even of the common firelock, -and formed vows worthy of _Don Quixote_, “pour qu’on abandonnât -l’usage de ces armes traîtresses au moyen desquelles un lâche, tapi -derrière un buisson, donne la mort au brave qu’il n’aurait pas -regardé en face!” - -Colonel H. A. Dillon says that for what the French call _le moral -d’une armée_ he can find no equivalent in the English language, and -must explain his thought by paraphrase. He defines this _moral_ -to be the liveliest courage produced by the purest patriotism. -_Commentary on the Military Establishments and Defences of the -British Empire_, vol. i. This _moral_ the French lost by their -repeated defeats in the Peninsula, and by the conviction forced -on them that even the Pyrenees were no longer a barrier. Napoléon -placed in _le moral_ three fourths of the power of an army. -Celerity of movement was the principal secret of the early French -successes, and of this the rapid marching of the French soldier and -his wonderful power of sustaining fatigue were the main elements. -The French soldier is small of stature, as General Foy himself -confesses, but he marches quick and long, and this the General in -great part attributes to the French eating much more bread than any -other European troops: “Les soldats qui mangent le plus de pain et -le moins de viande sont en général plus musculeux, et marchent plus -vite et plus long temps que les autres. * * Le Français a besoin -en campagne de deux livres de pain par jour.”--Foy, _Hist. Guerre -Pénins._ liv. i. - -The astonishing developement which Napoléon gave to the infantry -service has been dwelt on by more than one writer. “L’infanterie -française, cette nation des camps,” says De Barante, _Des Communes -et de l’Aristocratie_. Napoléon gave to this arm a power and -vigour to which it was before a stranger. “Napoléon augmenta -le bataillon d’infanterie d’une autre compagnie d’élite, les -voltigeurs. Ce fut une idée heureuse que de rehausser dans l’estime -publique les hommes de petite taille, qui en général sont les plus -intelligens et les plus alertes.” (Foy, _Hist. Guerre Pénins._) -The consummation of the Emperor’s gigantic views was found in the -Imperial Guard. “La garde impériale représentait la gloire de -l’armée et la majesté de l’empire. On choisissait les officiers et -les soldats parmi ceux que les braves avaient signalés comme les -plus braves: tous étaient couverts de cicatrices.”--(Foy, _Hist. -Guerre Pénins._ liv. i.) Napoléon after the battle of Marengo -called them his “granite column.” At the height of his power his -Imperial Guard consisted of 68 battalions, 31 squadrons, and 80 -pieces of artillery--in itself a powerful army. Never will the -exclamation of these devoted men on the field of Waterloo be -forgotten: “_La garde meurt et ne se rend pas!_” - -The peculiar constitution of the French grenadier corps is likewise -to be remarked. These bodies were the combined excerpts of all -the best men from every regiment. “L’éclat et la prééminence des -grenadiers Français * * l’usage de réunir tous ceux d’une ou de -plusieurs brigades pour tenter des actions de vigueur.” (Foy, -_Hist. Guerre Pénins._, liv. ii.) To these we never opposed more -than our average regimental forces, and their picked men were for -the most part overcome by our rank and file. What this rank and -file was composed of let the following passage attest. “Les Anglais -n’escaladent pas la montagne et n’effleurent pas la plaine, lestes -et rapides comme les Français; mais ils sont plus silencieux, plus -calmes, plus obéissants; pour ce motif leurs feux sont plus assurés -et plus meurtriers.” (Foy, _Hist. Guerre Pénins._, liv. ii.) Such -is the brilliant testimony to the merits of the British soldier by -one of Napoléon’s own Generals. Our footmen are still the sturdy -yeomen who accomplished such marvels at Crecy. If in a state little -removed from brute ignorance they have done such wonders, what -may be expected from them in the not far distant day, when they -shall become elevated by education to a more fitting standard? -Splendid as our horses are, and our dragoons both heavy and light, -the strength of our army will be always in its powerful infantry, -in their steady fire, indomitable endurance, and incomparable use -of the bayonet. These are the _robur peditum_, like the _triarii_ -of the Roman legions, who were chosen from the strongest men, and -ever fought on foot. It was remarked that in moments of peril they -set their limbs so strongly, that their knees were somewhat bowed -(precisely like our modern pugilists), as if they would rather die -than remove from their places; and it passed into a proverb, when a -thing came to extremity: “_ad triarios res venit_.” - -The use of tents, like many another classic incumbrance, has -been swept away from campaigning by our modern tactics, which -originated at the commencement of the Peninsular War, and, arrived -at the bivouac, the “lodging is on the cold ground” and _sub Jove -frigido_. “L’usage des tentes préservait les troupes des maladies -pernicieuses. Tout cela est vrai, et cependant on ne reviendra ni -aux petites armées, ni aux sièges de convention ni aux maisons de -toile.” (Foy, _Hist. Guerre Pénins._ liv. i.) The commander who -makes a campaign with tents is fettered with embarrassments as -to means of transport, which must always place him in a state of -inferiority to an adversary not thus encumbered. This is one of -the great changes wrought by the wonderful genius of Napoléon, -which even amidst the new hardships which he imposed, secured -almost the adoration of his soldiers. “Ils frémissent encore -d’alégresse en exprimant le transport dont on fut saisi, quand -l’empereur, qu’on croyait bien loin, apparut tout-à-coup devant le -front des grenadiers, monté sur son cheval blanc et suivi de son -mamelouck.” (Foy, _Hist. Guerre Pénins._ liv. ii.) At the close of -the War, the person of Wellington commanded almost equal admiration. - -I am a great admirer of General Napier, whom I regard as the -counterpart of Thucydides, the soldier-historian of Athens, and to -whom may be not infelicitously applied the character assigned to -Xenophon (another Athenian narrator of military exploits in which -he himself participated) by our earliest Latin lexicographer, -Thomas Thomas, the contemporary of Shakspeare: “Xenophon was a -noble and wyse captaine, and of a delectable style in wrytynge.” -Napier’s style is enchanting and stirs like the sound of a trumpet. -My obligations to him are unbounded. But Heaven forbid that his -enthusiasm for War should become general, for it is of a truly -rabid character:--“War is the condition of this world. From man -to the smallest insect all are at strife!” (_Hist. War in the -Penins._, book xxiv. chap. 6.) This is a mere reproduction of -Hobbes: “The state of nature is a state of war.” I trust that -peace will ere long be the enduring condition of this world; and -there are happily indications of that approaching consummation. -If I sing the glories of the Peninsular War, it is because it -was of a defensive character and we struck for Freedom. We may -surely now repose on our laurels (as it is phrased), and never -hereafter engage in a war which shall not be in the strictest sense -inevitable. - -I am happy to record upon this subject the enlightened sentiments -of a French General: “L’esprit de liberté tuera l’esprit militaire. -Il ne sera plus permis aux princes de faire entr’égorger les -peuples pour des intérêts de dynastie, ou pour des lubies -d’ambition. Les gouvernants, quels que soient leur titre et -l’origine de leur pouvoir, ne pourront subsister qu’en s’effaçant -personnellement devant la volonté générale. Les nations, comparant -les désastres de la bataille au mince profit de la victoire, ne -pousseront plus le cri de guerre, hormis dans les circonstances -très rares où il s’agira de vivre libre ou mourir.” (Foy, _Hist. -Guerre Pénins._ liv. i.) Elsewhere he makes this acute criticism -on the audacious designs of Napoléon. “Le despotisme avait été -organisé pour faire la guerre; on continua la guerre pour conserver -le despotisme. Le sort en était jeté; la France devait conquérir -l’Europe, ou l’Europe subjuguer la France. * * La nature a marqué -un terme au-delà duquel les enterprises folles ne peuvent pas être -conduites avec sagesse. Ce terme l’empereur l’atteignit en Espagne, -et le dépassa en Russie. S’il eût échappé alors à sa ruine, son -inflexible outrecuidance (presumption) lui eût fait trouver -ailleurs Baylen et Moscou.” Such is the impartial testimony of one -of his own generals. - -The French “playing at soldiers” is an old vice, older than the -days of Sir Thomas More, who thus pleasantly hits it off: “In -France there is yet a more pestiferous sort of people, for the -whole country is full of soldiers, that are still kept up in time -of peace, if such a state of a nation can be called a peace: and -these are kept in pay upon the same account, it being a maxim of -those pretended statesmen, that it is necessary for the public -safety, to have a good body of veteran soldiers ever in readiness. -But France has learned to its cost, how dangerous it is to feed -such beasts.” Louis XIV. kept up a standing army of 440,000 men, -and Napoléon had frequently more. - -The Gauls in modern times seem to have very much changed their -nature, for so far from invading other countries, their reputation -amongst the ancients was for remaining to fight at home, according -to the obvious interpretation of a line in Pindar: - - ἐνδομάχας ἅτ’ ἀλέκτωρ.--_Olymp._ xii. - -“domi pugnans ceu Gallus.” To be sure, it is just possible that the -learned Theban may have meant that humble domestic fowl, a cock. -Erasmus reads “domi abditus.” There can be no doubt that a cock was -meant, and unquestionably it is a bellicose bird. The passage from -Pindar might be fairly rendered by the Latin adage: “Gallus in suo -sterquilinio,” which it is needless to turn into the vernacular. -There are symptoms of the French reforming this national vice, and -I therefore shall not dwell upon a somewhat disagreeable subject. - -I am happy to be the first to record the true orthography of one -of our two first and not least important battles in the Peninsula, -Roriça and Vimieiro. They used to be invariably written Roleia -and “Vimeira.” Napier has considerably improved upon this, -making the latter “Vimiero.” But still he is wrong. The correct -word is “Vimieiro.” Even had I made no other discovery, my four -years’ residence in Portugal would not have been useless. True, -it may be said that the General has only “knocked an _i_ out of -it” in military fashion. But, though the error be confined to a -single letter, it would be only the change of a letter to call -Waterloo “Waterlog,” and who could excuse such a travesty of our -glorious victory? These mistakes in the orthography of the names -of Peninsular localities are common to all English writers, and -excellent a scholar as Southey was, they disfigure his History -as well as that of Napier. I find the names of these two battles -misdescribed as “Roleia” and “Vimieira” in the memoir by Sir B. -D’Urban lately reproduced at the elevation of Sir H. Hardinge to -the Peerage--should I not rather say the elevation of the Peerage -by the accession to it of that gallant and chivalrous Peninsular -veteran? - -The French, too, write the names of these battles as erroneously. -They call them uniformly “Roliça” and “Vimeiro,” vide “_Histoire -de la Guerre de la Péninsule, par le Général Foy_,” “_Mémoires -par Pellot, Campagnes par De la Pène_,” _and_ “_Mémoires de M. la -Duchesse d’Abrantès_” passim. Napier in the twenty-fourth book of -his History takes leave of the comparative approach to accuracy -in his earlier books, and speaks of these battles every where as -“Roliça” and “Vimiera.” Specks in the sun! - -In my choice of a metre I have been led by the following -considerations. The beauty and completeness of the stanza of -Spenser appear now to be generally acknowledged. But it certainly -presents great difficulties in a language so unvocal compared with -those of Southern Europe, and so little abounding in rhymes as -the English. It is more difficult in a narrative and consecutive -poem than in one of a descriptive and reflective character, like -_Childe Harold_, where the topics and the order in which they -shall be discussed are both at the discretion of the poet. Yet the -terrible exigencies of four recurring rhymes in each stanza have -led even such a master as Byron into not a few puzzling dilemmas, -as in his description of Cintra (_Childe Harold_, i. 19), where he -has completed a stanza, in which “steep,” “weep,” and “deep” had -already done service, with “torrents leap,” although the faintest -trickle of a torrent was never seen in that locality! As he -proceeded in his task, he attained to a more perfect mastery of his -materials; and, I think, the fourth canto unsurpassed in English -poetry. It may be asked why I hoped to succeed in what Byron found -so difficult? My answer is that I do not think the difficulty -insuperable, as Byron has proved it not to be in the latter and -infinitely finer part of his poem, that none but a Milton could -elevate blank verse to the sublimity as well as harmony of the -_Paradise Lost_, that rhyme, and especially such an elegant form -of rhymed verse as the stanza of _Childe Harold_, possesses a -popular and inalienable charm, that success (if achieved at all) -rises with the magnitude of the difficulties encountered, and -that Spenser himself, Thomson’s _Castle of Indolence_, his other -imitators, Shenstone’s _Schoolmistress_, Beattie’s _Minstrel_ and -West’s _Education_, Campbell’s _Gertrude of Wyoming_, occasional -short pieces by Wordsworth, Wiffin’s _Translation of Tasso_, -Scott’s introductions to very many cantos of his several poems (in -these two latter cases I speak merely of mechanical execution), -Shelley’s _Revolt of Islam_ and _Adonais_, Kirke White’s _Hermit of -the Pacific_ and _Christiad_, Mrs. Norton’s _Child of the Islands_, -and a few (too few) verses of Tennyson and Milnes abundantly -prove the capability of the stanza. The Italian _ottava rima_, -although sanctified by the use of Tasso and Ariosto, adopted -almost universally in the heroic poetry of one Peninsula, and most -successfully introduced by Camóens into the only epic poetry of -the other, appears unadapted for any but burlesque or satirical -poetry in the English language, the serious passages of _Don Juan_ -deriving all their beauty from being interspersed with lighter, and -the excellence and power of Fairfax’s _Tasso_ being marred by the -effect of the metre. The English heroic couplet becomes clearly, -I think, monotonous in a long poem--a doom from which not all the -genius of Dryden and Pope could rescue it. And if in his _Corsair_, -_Lara_, and _The Island_, Byron proved, in the words of Jeffrey, -that “the oldest and most respectable measure that is known amongst -us is as flexible as any other,” and elicited from Sir E. Brydges -a just tribute to his “unbroken stream of native eloquence,” it -is precisely because “the narrative (as he says) is rapid,” and -because the hazardous experiment is not tried of continuing rhymed -distiches through a long poem. The Italian _ottava rima_ has been -observed to derive great strength from its majestic close, which -is invariably in a doubly rhymed couplet, and I have occasionally -introduced double rhymes in this and other parts of the stanza to -relieve the tendency to monotony. The most distinguished cultivator -of Southern literature that England has ever produced, Lord -Holland, in his translations from Lope de Vega, Luis de Gonzaga, -&c., and from Ariosto, was very successful in this imitation. -The hypercatalectic syllable occurs in every line of Tasso’s -_Gerusalemme_, and in every line of Camóens’ _Lusiadas_, and the -Italians and Portuguese therefore call the verse “hendecasyllabic.” -A poem of any length constructed on this principle in English would -degenerate into pure burlesque; but Byron and others have proved -that it may be advantageously introduced as a pleasing variety. - -The Alexandrine at the close of each stanza of Spenser produces an -equivalent, and perhaps even a more majestic effect. It has been -objected to this Alexandrine that it gives a drawling tone to a -long narrative poem; but I do not think with justice, since very -much depends on the mode in which the line is constructed. Pope’s -celebrated “needless Alexandrine” has created a prejudice against -this metre, which I admit to be just where it is interspersed with -heroic verse, since, as Johnson correctly observes, it disappoints -the ear. But in the stanza of Spenser it is expected. How easily -the form and character of a verse may be changed by transposing a -word or two will appear from Pope’s famous imitative Alexandrine: - - “Which like a wounded snake drags its slow length along.” - -Alter two monosyllables, and it goes quite trippingly from the -tongue: - - “And like a wounded snake it drags its length along.” - -There is no essential alteration. The adjective “slow” omitted -is an incorrect epithet applied to “length,” since the quickest -objects in nature, a racehorse or a greyhound, appear very long -when upon full stretch, and in most rapid movement. The trick of -the line is in the simple use of spondees in the place of iambuses, -“which like,” “drags its,” “slow length.” How short and compact -an Alexandrine may be, may be seen in Horace’s Epodes _passim_. -Take the first line of the celebrated second ode, the “_longè -pulcherrima_” by the consent of all critics: - - “Beatus ille qui procul negotiis.” - -This is a perfect Alexandrine, and though consisting of twelve -syllables, does not appear longer than one of Scott’s shortest -octosyllabic lines in the _Lady of the Lake_: - - “Thy threats, thy mercy I defy.” - -The reason is because it is a pure Iambic line, and therefore very -vocal; since, if it contained many consonants, as nearly every -English line does, they must make most of the previous vowels long -by position; and, though accent generally determines the quantity -in English, literal quantity enters more into the construction of -English verse than is commonly supposed. - -I may here observe that the stanza commonly called “Spenserian” -is by no means so purely an original invention of that most -imaginative poet as is usually represented. The Alexandrine at -the close is the only part that is original. I find the germ of -Spenser’s stanza very palpably in the old ballet-staves and in the -works of two poets who lived fully a century before him, Skelton -who styled himself Poet Laureate to Henry VII. and Stephen Hawes -who was Gentleman of the Bedchamber to the same monarch. The -following stanza is from Skelton’s “Elegy on the death of Henry -Percy, fourth Earl of Northumberland:”--it is the ballet-stave of -seven, in which was written an enormous quantity of early, but now -forgotten, English poetry, and in which Spenser has written his -“Ruins of Time,” and Shakspeare his “Rape of Lucrece.” - - O cruell Mars, thou dedly god of war! - O dolorous Teusday, dedicate to thy name, - When thou shoke thy sworde so noble a man to mar! - O grounde ungracious, unhappy be thy fame, - Which wert endyed with rede blode of the same! - Most noble earl! O fowle mysuryd grounde - Whereon he gat his fynal dedely wounde! - -Down to the end of the fifth line this is precisely the stanza of -Spenser. With the addition of two lines, one rhyming with the last, -and the other with the fifth, and of two syllables to the closing -line, it is literally that stanza. But in fact the latter addition -was often made by both Skelton and Hawes, though irregularly, -metrical cadence being then imperfectly understood, and both poets -being of the “tumbling” school. This poem was probably composed in -the year 1490. Skelton died in 1529, and an edition of his poems -in black letter appeared in 1568. I take the stanza which follows -from a poem of Hawes’s called “The History of Graunde Amoure and la -Belle Pucel,” written in 1505 and published in quarto in 1555: - - Till that I came unto a ryall gate, - Where I saw stondynge the goodly portresse, - Whyche asked me from whence I came a-late; - To whom I gan in every thynge expresse - All myne adventure, chaunce, and busynesse, - And eke my name; I told her every dell; - Whan she herde this she lyked me right well. - -The construction of this stanza is the same as of the former, but -the versification is rather rougher. It, like the other, is very -near the Spenserian stanza. But it is not the Spenserian stanza. -Friar Bacon and Leonardo da Vinci were very near the discovery -of steam, but they did not discover steam, or at all events they -did not apply it. The stanzas cited, however, contain the great -distinguishing peculiarity of the stanza of Spenser, which is the -reduplication of the rhyme, that closes the second and fourth -lines, in the fifth--the doubling of the stanza within itself, and -turning upon this most musical pivot. And this beauty, like so many -other great discoveries, I believe to be probably the result of -accident. Add another line to each of the foregoing stanzas, make -it rhyme with the first and third, and interpose it between the -fourth and fifth lines, and you have the exact _ottava rima_ of the -Italians. This ballet-stave is the clear germ of the Spenserian -stanza, which with a few _perfectionnemens_ is precisely as it -stands. It may be traced more directly to the ballet-stave of -eight, but either will suit equally well for illustration. - -To make this quite intelligible to every reader, Hawes’s stanza -becomes the exact _ottava rima_ of the Italians, which Surrey -brought into England, and in which Spenser wrote two of his poems, -the rhyme of Fairfax’s _Tasso_, of Frere’s _Whistlecraft_, and -Byron’s _Don Juan_, by the insertion of the single line which I -have added here in italics: - - Till that I came unto a royal gate, - Where I saw standing the goodly portresse, - Who askéd me from whence I came of late; - To whom I ’gan in every thing express - _The various hazards of my chequered fate_, - All mine adventure, chaunce, and busynesse, - And eke my name; I told her every dell:[B] - When she heard this she likéd me right well. - -The stanza becomes purely Spenserian by the addition of the two -lines and one word which I here insert in italics: - - Till that I came unto a royal gate, - Where I saw standing the goodly portresse, - Who askéd me from whence I came of late; - To whom I ’gan in every thing express - All mine adventure, chaunce, and busynesse, - _With every accident that me befel_ - _Throughout my chequered life--I could no less--_ - And eke my name; I told her every dell: - When she this _story_ heard she likéd me right well. - -The ballet-stave of seven is one of the many varieties of Chaucer, -who has written in this measure four of his “Canterbury Tales,” and -composed a very long poem in it, _Troylus_, of which the following -stanza is a specimen (lib. ii. 1030.) - - For though that the best harper upon live - Would on the beste sounid jolly harpe - That evir was, with all his fingers five - Touch aie o string, or aie o warble harpe, - Were his nailes poincted nevir so sharpe, - It shoulde makin every wight to dull - To heare is glee, and of his strokes full. - -This, like the other, becomes the perfect _ottava rima_ by the -addition of a single line, which I have likewise marked in -italics:-- - - For though that the best harper upon live - Would on the beste sounid jolly harpe - That evir was, with all his fingers five - Touch aie o string, or aie o warble harpe, - _And with Glaskyrion the Briton strive_, - Were his nailes poincted nevir so sharpe, - It shoulde makin every wight to dull - To heare his glee, and of his strokes full. - -The addition refers to a celebrated ancient Welsh harper mentioned -with honour by Chaucer himself in his _Boke of Fame_. I shall -not further meddle by patchwork with the illustrious Father of -English Poetry. But, as in the former case, by the addition of -two lines and one word I could at once convert his stanza into -that of Spenser. The _ottava rima_ was not then invented, nor for -many years after Chaucer wrote, not having made its appearance -until the days of Boiardo and Berni, nor been brought to perfection -until the lyre was held by the master hands of Ariosto and Tasso. -The secret of the great resemblance of this stanza as employed by -Chaucer to that subsequently invented by his Italian successors -is, that both delved in the same mine and wrought upon the same -material--the Sicilian sonnet, first introduced and naturalized in -Europe by Chaucer’s great contemporary, Petrarch. So perfect was -this instrument, the sonnet, at its discovery, that the fine taste -of Petrarch adhered to it throughout life with marvellous tenacity, -and at this day Wordsworth has without change written nearly half -his poetry in it. I believe Chaucer, who either copied or adapted -many of his modes of versification from Petrarch, to have moulded -his ballet-staves both of seven and eight, by squaring them with -the first half of the Sicilian or Petrarcan sonnet, with which they -are nearly identical. The Italian successors of Petrarch in the -same way took the first half of the sonnet, transposing the first -and second lines, and inserting another line between the fourth and -fifth lines. Thus simply is derived the far-famed _ottava rima_. - -In real fact and truth, Chaucer has had nearly as much share in -the formation of what is known as the stanza of Spenser as Spenser -himself. That stanza is purely the ballet-stave of eight with three -close rhymes--with the simple addition by Spenser of an Alexandrine -at the close, rhyming with the last verse of the ballet-stave. -There are some who trace these ballet-staves to the Latin rhymed -church iambics, and the germ of the ballet-stave of eight has been -sought in a Latin hymn written by the German monk, Ernfrid, in the -ninth century; but they are to be traced more probably (at least in -their more perfect shape) to the Romance poetry of the Provençals. -The first instance I meet with of the use of the ballet-stave of -eight in English verse is in the elegy on the death of our first -Edward, written from internal evidence shortly after that period. -The rhymes and their arrangement are precisely as in the stanza of -Spenser, but the verse is octosyllabic: - - Alle that beoth of huerte trewe - A stounde herkneth to my song - Of duel that deth hath diht us newe - That maketh me syke and sorrow among. &c. - -Chaucer was the first who wrote this stanza in the heroic -line of ten syllables, and his contribution to the stanza is -therefore quite as important as Spenser’s addition of the closing -Alexandrine. In this stanza Chaucer has written the whole of the -Monk’s Tale, and how entirely it is the stanza of _Childe Harold_, -with the exception of the Alexandrine at the end, may be seen from -the following example:-- - - His wif his lordes, and his concubines - Ay dronken, while her appetitis last, - Out of thise noble vessels sondry wines; - And on a wall this King his eyen cast, - And saw an hand armles that wrote ful fast, - For fere of whiche he quoke, and siked sore. - This hand that Balthasar so sore aghast, - Wrote _Mane techel phares_ and no more. - -The _Faëry Queen_ stanza must be regarded as a felicitous discovery -rather than invention, and even the merit of the addition becomes -diminished by the consideration that Alexandrine verse had become -a great favourite amongst his contemporary poets before he used -it. It was the favourite metre of a Howard and a Sidney at the -commencement of the era of Elizabeth, and is frequently met in our -alliterative poems, both early English and Anglo-Saxon. Yet Dr. -Johnson has most erroneously represented Spenser as the inventor of -the Alexandrine! But so fortunate was Spenser’s completion of the -stanza, that all the attempts of Phineas Fletcher, Giles Fletcher, -Prior, and even Milton, to improve on it were unavailing, and it -may now be regarded as one of the special glories of England. - -The stanza of Spenser, as used by that poet, was by no means the -perfect musical stave that it is at present, so exquisitely attuned -with the dominant quadruple rhyme for its key-note. Thomson appears -to me to have brought it very nearly to perfection--his sole -drawback being a too frequent indulgence in imperfect rhymes. In -Byron’s fourth canto of _Childe Harold_ I conceive it to be brought -to perfection. Spenser indulges constantly in imperfect rhymes, and -though sometimes musical as well as often charmingly fanciful and -suggestive, he was by no means such a master of language and rhythm -as Shakspeare, whose influence, followed up by the examples of -Milton, Dryden, and Pope, is felt in the excellence of the poetical -diction of the poets of this century. Though Spenser in some degree -discovered the stanza which bears his name, he did not complete the -discovery, for his Alexandrine is commonly deficient in the cæsural -pause, which is absolutely essential to the satisfaction of the ear -and to the majestic close of the stanza, and now almost as much _de -rigueur_ as it is in the French Alexandrine, which is the common -heroic measure of our neighbours. The Alexandrine in every second -stanza of Spenser is without it, and the effect is very bad, as may -be seen from the following examples:-- - - “So shall wrath, jealousy, grief, love, die and decay.” - “You shame-faced are but Shame-facedness itself is she.” - “Save an old nymph, hight Panope, to keep it clean.” - “Of turtle doves, she sitting in an ivory chaire.” - “And so had left them languishing ’twixt hope and feare.” - “Excludes from faire hope withouten further triall.” - “All mindless of the golden fleece which made them strive.” - “The other back retired, and contrary trode.” - “With which it blessed concord hath together tied.” - “Did waite about it, gaping griesly, all begor’d.” - “Yet spake she seldome, but thought more the less she said.” - “But of her love to lavish, little have she thank.” - “And unto better fortune doth herself prepare.” - “Fails of her souse, and passing by doth hurt no more.” - “Forgetful of his safety hath his right way lost.” - “But with entire affection, and appearance plaine.” - “Great liking unto many, but true love to few.” - “Into most deadly danger and distressed plight.” - “Whilst loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime.” - “They have him taken captive, tho’ it grieve him sore.” - “So kept she them in order, and herself in hand.” - “’Mongst which crept the little angels through the glittering - gleames.” - “And thereout sucking venom to her parts intire.” - “Ease after war, death after life, does greatly please.” - -Admitting the richness and fertility of Spenser’s fancy, I cannot -find that he has depth, originality, or brilliancy of thought -to compensate for a roughness, which is amazing by the side of -Shakspeare’s exquisite versification, or to justify the high -opinion expressed by Wordsworth. Compare Spenser’s Description of -Lucifer’s Palace, commencing - - “A stately palace built of squared brick, - “Which cunningly was without mortar laid” - -with Milton’s Pandemonium! - -Superadded to Spenser’s roughness, which the antique style -affected by him in some degree palliates, are very frequent -imperfect rhymes and slovenly repetitions of the same identical -metrical sounds, as _plain_, _plane_, and _complain_, _see_ and -_sea_, rhyming in the same stanza--liberties which now are utterly -inadmissible. It is very true that the recurrence of four lines -which rhyme together and of three lines which likewise rhyme with -each other in each stanza makes the Spenserian stanza in a long -poem extraordinarily difficult, without an occasional manifestation -of these defects; but the exigencies of modern criticism, I think -justly, require that the difficulty be overcome. And a portion, -doubtless, of the superiority of modern English to modern French -and Italian poetry arises from explosion of imperfect rhymes. -If the poets of these days are degenerate in grasp of thought, -they are at least superior to their predecessors and to their -continental contemporaries in the mechanism of their art. - -Having said thus much of the stanza which I have chosen, I shall -add that, rejecting classical conformity in all those matters -wherein I conceive the advanced spirit of the age to demand modern -treatment, I have availed myself largely of classical allusion, -and to a certain extent of classical imagery, to impart interest -to a subject which might otherwise smell too much of “villanous -saltpetre,” and have in some cases adhered more closely to true -classical nomenclature than has hitherto been the custom. I regard -it as one of the advantages of the acuteness of modern scholarship -to have cleared away much rubbish and removed many an excrescence. -But the Grecian may unhappily descend into the Græculist, and by -adopting too much spoil every thing. Thus I conceive no good effect -to be produced by writing the name Pisistratus in a serious work -“Peisistratus,” and I would not imitate in modern poetry Homer’s -not at all ignobly meant comparison of Aias (Ajax) to an ass any -more than I would adopt the word _hog_ as applied to Achilles: ὅγ’ -ὣς εἰπὼν “he thus speaking”--“_Hog_ thus speaking” would be rather -offensive to English ears. Neither would I write “Klutaimnestra” -for Clytemnestra, “Loukas” for Luke, “Dabid” for David, or “Eua” -for our first mother. In matters of taste, like these, above all -things we must observe the _modus in rebus_. Quintilian, a master -in all that relates to elegance of speech, explains very well that -such things must be regulated by feeling. Speaking of the beauty -of one of the smallest of particles in a passage of Cicero, he -says: “Cur _hosce_ potiùs quàm _hos_? Rationem fortassè non reddam; -sentiam esse melius,” _Instit._ ix. 4. “Aias” I would at once -reclaim from the vulgar tyranny of “Ajax,” which, as we pronounce -it, scarcely differs from _a jakes_. This pronunciation, be it -observed, is purely British and German, for it is nearly certain -that the Latins pronounced the word which they spelt _Ajax_ quite -like the Greek _Aias_, _Ajax_ being pronounced _Aias_ in nearly -all the languages of Southern Europe at this day. In this poem, -accordingly, I spell the name “Aias.” In the same way I restore the -ancient and true spelling of the name “Leonides.” (Herod. lib. vii. -_passim._ Thucyd. i, 132.) Achilles I would retain because more -musical than “Achilleus;” but I would expunge the word “Hectoring” -from our language, as originating in disgraceful ignorance, because -so far from being a bully, Hector was a hero of the noblest and -most amiable character, and is so described by Homer. Helen thus -apostrophizes his dead body: - - Ἕκτωρ, ἐμῷ θυμῷ δαέρων πολὺ φίλτατε πάντων, * * - Ἀλλ’ οὔπω σεῦ ἄκουσα κακὸν ἔπος, οὐδ’ ἀσύφηλον· - Ἀλλ’ εἴτις με καὶ ἄλλος ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐνίπτοι, - * * σὺ τόνγ’ ἐπέεσσι παραιφάμενος κατέρυκες, - Σῇ τ’ ἀγανοφροσύνῃ, καὶ σοῖς ἀγανοῖς ἐπέεσσι. - _Iliad._ xxiv. 762. - -“Hector, to my soul far dearest of all my brothers-in-law! Never -from you have I heard a bad or contumelious word; but if any other -in all the household reproached me, you with admonishing voice -restrained him--with your bland humanity and gentle words.” Yet -with gross and disgusting ignorance this high-souled hero is thus -slaughtered in all our dictionaries:-- - -“HECTOR--a bully, a blustering, turbulent, noisy fellow!!” - -I have adopted the Homeric names in preference to the common Latin -forms, as Aphrodité instead of Venus, Atrides for Menelaüs (where -so substituted in the original) for the same reasons which have -influenced Archdeacon Williams in the spirited prose translations -which accompany his learned Essay, “_Homerus_,” Mr. Guest of -Caius College, Cambridge, in the specimen of translation of the -first book of Homer into hexameters which is introduced into his -ingenious _History of English Rhythms_, the Translator of Homer in -the late numbers of _Blackwood’s Magazine_, and the learned Voss -in his hexametrical German version. I have chosen the name Paris, -however, in place of Alexander, for the sake of clearness and -appropriateness in the allusion, and to avoid confusion with the -better-known hero of that name. I do not know that it is necessary -to extend my poetical confessions on this subject further. But I -shall just add that in pronunciation I have adhered to classical -quantity, wherever it could be done without a sacrifice of beauty, -but have unhesitatingly departed from it in such cases as that of -the word “Hyperion,” in which Shakspeare has fixed the accent -on the antepenultimate, with so fine an effect in the way of -improvement on the (to merely English ears) intolerable “Hyperíon” -which is of classical _rigueur_, as to have induced the otherwise -uncompromising Cooke, translator of Hesiod, to follow his too -sweetly sinning example. I hope I shall not be exorcised for thus -erring with Shakspeare. - -The best image that I can offer of the Græculist carver of -cherry-stones is such a realization of Buridan’s ass suspended -between two rival and opposite bundles of hay, as might be -presented by a bad concocter of College exercises, puzzled in an -address to Prometheus to choose between the heptasyllabic form -“Iapetionides” and the tetrasyllabic “Japetides,” to commence his -puling hexameter! - -The earliest military expedition into Spain, of which there is -mention amongst ancient poets or doubt amongst historians, is that -of Hercules, amongst whose twelve labours is recorded his victory -over Geryon and obtaining possession of his crown. Geryon, the son -of Crysaör, was King of the Balearic Isles, and hence by poetical -fiction he was endowed with three bodies, and is commonly called -_tricorpor_, _triplex_, or _tergeminus_, and sometimes _Pastor -Iberus_. Virgil describes Hercules proceeding to the conquest of -Cacus from that of Geryon thus: - - ----Nam maximus ultor, - Tergemini nece Geryonis spoliisque superbus, - Alcides aderat, taurosque huc victor agebat - Ingentes: vallemque boves amnemque tenebant. - _Æn._ viii. 201. - -Of these Cacus stole four of the finest, and though he ingeniously -dragged them by the tails, was the cause of his own destruction. -And that was not the first time that meddling with Spanish affairs -was fatal to a foreign robber! Horace likewise alludes to this -expedition of Hercules, in compliment to Augustus (_Carm._ -iii. 14), where he compares the victorious return of the Roman -from Iberia to that of Hercules--“Herculis ritu.” The first -authenticated occupation of the country was by the Phœnicians, who -colonized it extensively, but according to their usual practice -endeavoured long to keep their discovery secret. The name of the -country “_Span_” in the Phœnician signifies “a mystery.” The -rivalry between Rome and Carthage brought the Romans subsequently -to the Peninsula, and Spain since that period has played a great -part in the history of the world. - -The warlike character of the ancient Spaniards is attested by a -variety of circumstances; by the terrific struggle which they -maintained against the overwhelming power of Rome, by their -determined and unflinching resistance to Hannibal as well as -Scipio, by such desperately sustained sieges as those of Saguntum -and Numantia, by the complimentary allusions to their valour with -which the Latin poets abound, and not least by the reputation of -their ancient armour, which was in the highest esteem at Rome in -the days of Julius and Augustus Cæsar. Thus, when Horace addresses -Iccius on his change of the study of Philosophy for a military -life, he twits him with having promised better things than to -exchange his splendid library for Iberian cuirasses: - - Cùm tu coëmptos undique nobiles - Libros Panæti, Socraticam et domum - Mutare loricis Iberis, - Pollicitus meliora, tendis? - _Carm._ i. 29. - -The metallurgic fame of Spain covers a period of nearly two score -centuries. It is attested by Hudibras and Horace, by Le Sage and -Pliny:--“Iron ores are almost everywhere found ... there is a -variety of different species ... and great difference in the -forges. But the greatest difference of all is the water, into -which it is plunged when red-hot. This glory of her iron has -ennobled certain places, as Bilbilis in Spain,” _lib._ xxxiv. -_cap._ 14. Pliny here alludes to the town now known as Bilbao, -which retained its reputation for sword-blades, like Toledo, down -to a recent period. He speaks of it as a city in Tarracon or -Cantabria, corresponding with the Basque Provinces of which Bilbao -is one of the chief towns. How strange that, after the lapse of -seventeen centuries, representatives from this very Bilbao should -have accompanied the Asturian Deputies to England to solicit a -subsidy of arms from the descendants of those who were such utter -barbarians, when the cuirasses of Cantabria were eagerly sought -after by the nobles of Imperial Rome! - -The Greeks called Italy “Hesperia,” because it was situated to -the west of them, and the Romans called Spain “Hesperia” equally, -because it was to the west of Italy. But the Latin poets, imitating -the Greeks, very frequently call Italy “Hesperia” also. Thus Virgil: - - Est locus, Hesperiam Graii cognomine dicunt. - _Æn._ i. 534. - -Macrobius prefers deriving the origin of the name, as applied to -Italy, from its western situation, to the fact of its being chosen -by Hesperus for his residence, when he was expelled by his brother -Atlas: “Italy is called Hesperia, because it lies to the west.” -(Macrob. _Saturn._ lib. i. cap. 3.) - -Horace, when he applies the name to Spain, distinguishes the latter -country by the addition of the word “ultima,” thus: - - Qui nunc Hesperiâ sospes ab ultimâ - Caris multa sodalibus, &c. - _Carm._ i. 36. - -Strabo, lib. i. seems to derive the name from situation, where -he describes the Spaniards as the most western nation, “μάλιστα -ἑσπέριοι.” And both he and Pliny state that Hispania was likewise -called Iberia, either from a king of that name or from the river -Iberus (Ebro). - -Iberia, though the name by which, after Hispania, Spain was -most commonly known to the Latins was, by a confusion not very -complimentary to their geographical accuracy, likewise the name of -a region in Asia Minor. It was a tract in Pontus separated from -Colchis by the Moschic mountains, and corresponds with the modern -Georgia: - - Herbasque, quas Iolcos atque Iberia - Mittit venenorum ferax. - Horat. _Epod._ 5. - -The names “Hesperia” and “Iberia” are found together in the same -stanza of Camóens as applied to the Peninsula, yet with some -vague attempt to confine the latter name to the Spanish portion -exclusively: - - “Nome em armas ditoso, em noss’ Hesperia, - * * * * * - Se não quizera ir ver a terra Iberia.” - _Lus._ iv. 54. - -Both names are properly applicable to the entire Peninsula, -including Spain and Portugal, the second epithet, modified by the -prefix _Celto_ into “Celtiberia,” being the ancient name of Aragon -and Catalonia, and Iliberia that of Granada. The name Iberia as -applied to Spain is found in Virgil, _Æn._ ix. 582: - - Pictus acu chlamydem, et ferrugine clarus Iberâ, - -and under this name the country is described elaborately by Avienus -(P. C. 380). - - Quamque suis opibus cumulavit Iberia dives, &c. - -Ausonius (also P. C. 380) makes use of both the names “Hispania” -and “Iberia:” - - His Hispanus ager tellus ubi dives Iberum. - -Juvenal (P. C. 120) uses the name “Hispania” as the distinctive -appellation of the country, which became better and more perilously -known in his time than in the days of Horace and Virgil: - - Horrida vitanda est Hispania. - _Sat._ viii. 116. - -There is classical authority for a happy variety of names in -describing Spain--“Hesperia,” “Iberia,” “Hispania:” - - Tum sibi Callaïco Brutus cognomen in hoste - Fecit, et Hispanam sanguine tinxit humum. - Ov. _Fast._ vi. 461. - - Herculis ritu, modò dictus, ô plebs, - Morte venalem petiisse laurum - Cæsar, Hispanâ repetit Penates - Victor ab orâ - Horat. _Carm._ iii. 14. - -Spain was anciently divided into Hispania _Ulterior_ and -_Citerior_. The former comprehended Bætica, the present Andalucía, -and Lusitania nearly corresponding to what is now called Portugal. -Hispania Citerior comprised all the rest of the Peninsula. The name -“Hesperia” was more commonly applied by the ancient poets to the -Italian Peninsula than to the Spanish. Thus Virgil (in addition to -the passage above cited): - - Et sæpe Hesperiam, sæpe Itala regna vocare. * * - Sed quis ad Hesperiæ venturos littora Teucros - Crederet? - _Æn._ iii. 185. - -The preponderance of authority is clearly in favour of designating -Spain as “Iberia” or “Hispania,” and generally confining “Hesperia” -to Italy. Ovid has a very charming nymph named Hesperie, no -connection, however, of the Hesperides, of whom the most famous -was that Arethusa whose fountain-streamlet is so celebrated, and -whose enchanting name has been tastefully introduced into the -nomenclature of the British Navy. Ovid’s Hesperie, the daughter of -Cebrenis, was loved and persecuted by the Trojan hero Æsacos, whose -discovery of her is thus exquisitely described: - - Aspicit Hesperien patriâ Cebrenida ripâ, - Injectos humeris siccantem sole capillos. - Visa fugit Nymphe! - Ov. _Met._ xi. 769. - -A very amusing and somewhat malicious mistake was recently -witnessed at one of our English Universities. A prize was offered -for a composition on “_Hesperiæ mala luctuosæ_.” Spain was -manifestly intended. But the wags spreading all manner of doubts -and difficulties, the “Dons” were obliged to come out with a -public notice, intimating that “the gentlemen had better confine -themselves to the Spanish Peninsula!” - -Cantabria, which is the scene of this poem, was likewise the scene -of some of Augustus’s victories. His policy seems to have been here -as successful as his generalship. “Domuit autem, partim ductu, -partim auspiciis suis Cantabriam.” (Sueton. _cap._ 20.) But the -Cantabrians, then as now unformed for subjugation, rebelled again -the moment Augustus returned to Rome. Augustus, however, paid them -a second visit, and appears to have quieted them in Roman fashion, -this being the last of his warlike exploits: “Hic finis Augusto -bellicorum certaminum fuit: idem rebellandi finis Hispaniæ.” (Luc. -Flor. _lib._ iv. c. 12.) - -It was the proud distinction of the Cantabrian in the ancient world -to be indomitable, a character very significantly assigned to him -in Horace’s well known line: - - Cantabrum indoctum juga ferre nostra. - _Carm._ ii. 6. - -In a later ode Horace commemorates the subjugation of the -Cantabrians, but it was only momentary, and the difficulty with -which it was effected is acknowledged by the poet himself:-- - - Servit Hispanæ vetus hostis oræ - Cantaber, serâ domitus catenâ. - -These are splendid tributes to the valour which resisted the then -irresistible Roman power. The Cantabrian strength was broken, and -they were temporarily subjected by Agrippa (Sueton. _Octav._ c. -20), but it was only to rise again the moment they had recovered -their shattered forces. - -Cantabria corresponded (as already observed) with the modern Basque -Provinces, and gave with the neighbouring Asturia more trouble to -the Romans than all the rest of Spain, the mountainous character -of the country aiding them in that resistance to which they were -prompted by the hardy mountaineer’s character, and by his inherent -love of - - The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty! - -“Two most powerful nations (says Florus, lib. iv. cap. 12), the -Cantabri and the Astures, were still free from the Imperial sway. -The determination of the Cantabrians was _pejor_ (so the proud -Roman calls it) and loftier, and more pertinacious in rebellion, -for not content with defending their own liberty, they sought even -to control their neighbours.... Beaten at last, they retired to -the lofty mountain Vinnius, to which they deemed that the Ocean -would ascend before the Roman arms.... But he in person drew them -from these mountains, and reduced them beneath the crown by right -of war.” Florus is here describing the last expedition against -the Cantabrians in the reign of Augustus, of which Agrippa was -commander. Suetonius gives the same narrative in substance in -_Octav. cap._ xx., and Strabo, _lib._ iii. Silius Italicus pays -even a still greater tribute to the indomitable spirit of the -Cantabrians: - - Cantaber ante omnes hyemisque, æstusque, famisque - Invictus. - -Horace in that variety of refined flattery, with whose incense -he knew how to intoxicate Augustus, returns frequently to his -Cantabrian wars, and while his object is to praise the Roman pays -unceasing tributes to Spanish valour. Thus: - - Te Cantaber non antè domabilis - Miratur, ô tutela præsens - Italiæ dominæque Romæ! - _Carm._ iv. 14. - -Again, commemorating the triumph of Agrippa under Augustus, in the -year U. C. 733: - - Cantaber Agrippæ, Claudî virtute Neronis - Armenius cecidit. - _Epist._ i. 12. - -Agrippa was not the only one of Augustus’s generals, who was -despatched to the conquest of Cantabria, and with dubious success. -Lucius Æmilius had before failed in the attempt. - -It is curious enough that the Britons, the Gauls, and the Spaniards -are alluded to by name, and in the exact order of their greatness, -in three successive lines of an ode of Horace: - - Te belluosus qui remotis - Obstrepit Oceanus Britannis, - Te non paventis funera Galliæ, - Duræque tellus audit Iberiæ. - _Carm._ iv. 14. - -Singular approximation of nations whose struggles in the Peninsular -War were to make so famous near twenty centuries later! - -In the Peninsula I do not expect much appreciation, where even -amongst those who palaver English, English poetry is not at all -understood, and where once a littérateur, expressing his sham -admiration of Shakspeare, spoke to me of “_Macabets_ as one progidy -of a tradegy!” I am not prepared to sacrifice to an ambition which -nothing but undue praise could conciliate, and I shall be satisfied -with the approval of my own countrymen, if I can only have the good -fortune to secure it. - - - _Corunna, September, 1846._ - - - - - IBERIA WON. - - A Poem. - - IN TWELVE CANTOS. - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto I. - - -I. - - On San Sebastian’s towering castle wall, - What fiery meteor crowns the brow of night? - Its gathering splendour glows majestical - ’Gainst darkling skies--a diadem of light! - It grows amain upon the dazzled sight, - While to their posts the amazed besiegers run; - The eternal stars an instant beam less bright, - As startled by another burning sun, - Which now distincter bears the name “Napoléon!” - - -II. - - For Gaul’s imperial master shines that flame, - And quivering flouts the Angliberian host; - Effulgent skies enthrone his mighty name-- - His fortress stands impregnable, the boast! - This, this his birthday, this the fearless post - Where England’s strength shall fail again, again, - For warriors fresh have poured along the coast; - And though the siege hath cost a thousand men, - No hostile foot shall dare profane that lion’s den! - - -III. - - Great Arthur smiled, and calm the work went on; - Bartolomeo’s heights were strengthened well, - The trenches deepened ere the night was gone; - Antigua’s rocks with thunder bristling tell - The bold besieged how other bosoms swell - With warlike pride that pants for battle’s hour; - And comes the ponderous train of cannon fell - To try the strength of bastion, scarp, and tower, - And bid the boastful Gaul beware Britannia’s power! - - -IV. - - Say, is, not death then terrible enough, - Ye Captains fierce, but ye must point his dart? - Is man not made of perishable stuff, - But ye must wing new shafts to pierce his heart? - Say, is not famine, pestilence, the smart - Of dire disease and suffering, toil and wo - Enough, but Nature’s pangs must be by Art - Deep multiplied till tears like Ocean flow, - And shattering death-bolts fly, lest Death arrive too slow? - - -V. - - Genius of Liberty, inspire my song! - For thou alone canst consecrate the strife, - That bids surcease the despot sway of Wrong, - And Man prefer thy dignity to Life - Without thee,--War proclaiming “to the knife” - ’Gainst Tyrants. May the strain I feebly raise, - Like the Caÿstrian bird’s with death-notes rife, - Tune every human organ to thy praise, - And curb War’s eagles, save to blast Oppression’s gaze! - - -VI. - - On Mont’ Orgullo Mota’s fortress-crown - Seems like defiant Pride from high to smile, - Poised on her lofty cone, while far adown - Blue Ocean bathes her feet and guards the while; - And southward Santa Clara’s rocky isle - Stands like a Cyclop to defend the wall. - War’s stern munitions heaped in many a pile - The ramparts strew, prepared the foe to gall-- - Yet deeply now ’tis sworn, shall San Sebastian fall! - - -VII. - - The Chofre hills with giant carronades - Are horror-crested. Far on either side - Swift Uruméa, while the twilight fades, - Are armed the enormous batteries deep and wide. - And opens now like thunder to deride - Yon beacon light the loud artillery’s roar, - With fire and smoke that seem to Hell allied, - Makes wall and castle reel and tremble sore, - And shakes the affrighted wave that foams along the shore! - - -VIII. - - Dire straits of War! The crystal stream of Life - Is now cut off from San Sebastian’s ground; - Where water flowed, an aliment of strife - The withering Genius of Destruction found. - Oh, fatal skill! Sulphureous heaps abound - Within the tube that from Ernani’s hills - Brought Life, yet soon will scatter Death around. - Though lymph, Pyrene, all thy crags distil, - For San Sebastian vain is every mountain rill. - - -IX. - - But, hark the voice of cannon from within! - ’Tis raised in joy, a Royal salvo peals. - What new discovery marks that potent din, - Which speaks in thunder that the assailant feels-- - Bolts with each flash? For joy the Norman kneels. - Where Mota’s rock above the wave doth frown, - A living fount its bubbling stream reveals, - More prized than diámonds on Regal crown. - The stream is hoarded well--its flow supplies the town. - - -X. - - A moment pause the batteries now, while flag - Of truce and summons of surrender due - Approach the wall, nor long before it lag, - For soon in Rey a noble foeman knew - The English arms as he in England too. - No paltering there! Redoubled every post; - More resolute his wing’d defiance flew, - In fiery tempest ’gainst the leaguering host; - And scorning even to read the summons was his boast. - - -XI. - - Well answered! Where the river widest swells - ’Neath rapid Ocean’s amorous embrace, - And on the Siérra swung the Convent bells - For matin-lauds and vesper-song of grace, - The howitzer ascends that holy place, - And from the belfry vomits forth its fire; - From cloisters dim whose cowls the shakos chase - The stabled charger bids the monk retire, - And tell his beads apart till pass War’s tempest dire. - - -XII. - - Now Mont’ Orgullo vaunting Pride doth shew - Less proudly throned, for climb Olía’s side - The straining oxen, dragging upward slow, - With starting eye-ball and hoof opening wide, - Cannon and mortar o’er the foaming tide - Terrific hung. And Man the work completes, - Where fail the labouring beasts, till e’en Mount Pride - O’ercrested now from far defiance meets; - And from the Miradór who gazeth slaughter greets! - - -XIII. - - The booming salvo hurls its ceaseless shower, - Saint John’s huge bastion slowly crumbling falls, - Destruction seizes many a stately tower, - And totter to their base Tirynthian walls - Beneath the fury of resistless balls, - From circling orchards heaved by Britain’s sons; - And snake-like trench advancing swift appals - The garrison, as o’er the isthmus runs - The deadly sapper’s stroke that like an earthquake stuns. - - -XIV. - - And sally forth the warlike sons of France, - As prisoned lions vainly lash the bar, - To foil the miner in his bold advance, - And rages on the isthmus fiercest war; - Full many a shrapnell shell doth strew afar - Its withering shower of lead in thickest hail. - But what can like the British bayonet mar - Thy prowess, France? Before ’t the sallyers quail, - And fly like scattered hawks flung headlong on the gale. - - -XV. - - With glancing steel upon the trenches’ edge - Confronted Cameron the advancing host; - And swift retired before that gleaming wedge - The light-limbed chasseur, battling Gallia’s boast. - And, rough fascine and earth-piled gabion most - The ground demanding, rose the isthmus o’er - Banquette and parapet, the foremost post - Of war for those who sap and mine explore, - And lithe artilleryman and lynx-eyed caçadore. - - -XVI. - - And now the isthmus boasts its battery too; - At shortest range ’tis thundering ’gainst the wall. - Saint John protect thy bastion, or ’twill rue; - Sebastian, guard thy castle, or ’twill fall! - And lo, where shells ascending vertical, - Like iron disc by surest player cast, - Unerring light the townsmen to appal, - And, scattering hundred deaths, with ruin blast - The region doomed where’er that tempest dire hath past. - - -XVII. - - See many a bark that swan-like floats the tide - Steal rapid round the fair Cantabrian shore. - Daughters of luxury, your frail heads hide! - ’Tis women’s arms that ply the lusty oar - That hostile castle’s bristling wall before. - A patriot impulse bids them proudly dare - (Was never seen the like!) the batteries’ roar, - Their fruits and wine with the besiegers share, - And bless the arms upraised to guard Iberia fair! - - -XVIII. - - Isaro’s sunlit isle her dark-eyed maids - Sends laden with the grape’s delicious bloom; - Guerníca from its close embowering shades - Sends clustered muscatel whose globes illume - Bright tints of amber. Ondarróa’s gloom - Of archéd boughs gives golden apples forth, - Fair as on Hesperus’ dragon drew the doom; - Ripe Ceres’ gifts of Deba prove the worth; - And bland Zumaya opes her garden of the north. - - -XIX. - - Brown nuts and almonds from Cestona’s groves, - Soft melons come from Castro’s silvery streams; - The small black olive that the mountain loves - From Orrio’s hills ’mid peach and nectarine gleams. - Palencia sends her wine which most esteems - The midnight watcher on the tented field, - With blissful thoughts to stimulate his dreams - When, the watch ended, soon his eyes are sealed - By Heaven’s physician, sleep, and all his sorrows healed. - - -XX. - - Berméo’s vines of green most tender send - Black clusters soft with purple bloom bespread; - And where her gnarled and twisted fig-trees bend - ’Neath load of luscious fruit their dark green head, - The gathered treasure for a feast is shed. - The quince sweet-flavoured, and the juicy gourd, - The beautiful love-apple coral-red, - And curd-white cheese (an Arcady restored) - For Valour’s sons they bring to spread the ambrosial board. - - -XXI. - - Bright-eyed Biscayan maids, as shapely tall - As Atlas’ daughter in her sun-lit isle - Led in the dance through flowery vale and knoll, - Mother of streams while Tethys fair the while - The chorus blest with an approving smile. - The lively movements of the Vascon race, - The Tartar glance, the ringing laugh where guile - Ne’er enters, brown yet blooming charms of face, - And teeth of dazzling lustre lend uncommon grace. - - -XXII. - - Their hair dark shining shamed the raven’s wing, - In tresses long their shoulders floating down, - With ribands gay confined or silken string, - Or slight embroidered veil the head to crown. - Of gold and pearl some covet the renown, - Pendent from prettiest ears; with coral some - Their necks encircle. Camisoles each gown - Surmount, gallooned with silk or silver from - Shoulder to waist so fair that Envy’s self is dumb. - - -XXIII. - - ’Twas thus the Basque barqueras, happiest race, - Like their Cantabrian mothers rowed along; - A nymph-republic from whose dwelling-place - Both man and dame excludes the Nereid throng, - True to their Ocean-sire, as Dian strong. - Two row each bark, and one Dorina steers - ’Neath fluttering banderoles, and oft with song - They tune their oars, or dance with merry cheers - Zorcícos, while Basque drum and timbrel greet the ears. - - -XXIV. - - And oft, through summertide, some sheltered cove - On fair Biscaya’s coast these Nereids sought - To cool their lovely limbs, while far above - A sister-sentinel their safety wrought, - With eyes whose jealousy was still uncaught. - And through the crystal waters joyously - Spinning, like ivory, charms surpassing thought, - They plunged and sported, laughing wild with glee, - And swam with matchless skill--their element the sea. - - -XXV. - - And, robed again, full oft the Nymphs advanced - ’Neath dewy eve in beauteous double file, - And boundingly the gay Zorcíco danced, - With shouldered oars and frolic feet, the while - Basque drum and tamborine and Ocean’s smile - Make mirthful holiday. Now high they leap, - With mazy figure now the sense beguile, - Now cross their clattering blades as in the deep, - And laugh, dance, sing--methinks, ’tis better thus than weep. - - -XXVI. - - Nor vigilance secures that lovely coast, - Nor danger’s tremulous excitements flee, - For Gaul her cruisers and her arméd host - From fair Santona pours along the sea; - And even Columbian rovers, far too free - To curb the lust of plunder, hovering there-- - Indifferent whether Spain’s or England’s be - The rifled flag--like vultures foul prepare - On battle’s skirt to fall, and aidless stragglers tear. - - -XXVII. - - For years had past since great Britannia’s hand - Made Earth and Ocean feel her trident stroke; - And Trafalgár and San Vicente, fanned - By Victory’s wing, no present terrors woke; - Nor o’er the Deep her voice in thunder spoke, - Since feeble councils numbed at home the arms, - Which even thus paralysed Gaul’s legions broke; - And but that patriot zeal the virgin warms, - Had Famine crushed our men more dire than War’s alarms. - - -XXVIII. - - Yet nought could baffle England’s Chieftain-shield, - Who drove the Invader to Pyrene’s foot, - With thunder-shock on many a battle-field, - While Spain with aidful arm the foeman smote. - Oh, glorious rivalship! where late each throat - Was hostile grasped, now rank with rank contending, - Now side by side,--the Armada’s strife forgot, - Gibraltar’s griefs, Saint Vincent’s memory rending-- - Against the general foe in War’s proud union blending. - - -XXIX. - - Heroic brotherhood! Mark o’er all her soil - Where Spain’s Partidas like Cadmean seed - Spring armed and terrible to make War’s toil - Ubiquitous, the foe unceasing bleed; - Till, like bull gored and vanquished, he recede, - While Mina and the Empecinado hang - Upon his flanks, and give the Invader’s meed - In death from every crag--where Tell-like sprang - The Guerrillero forth, whose loud trabúco rang. - - -XXX. - - The carcase of a rotten State may fall - Corrupt asunder, life-blood e’en diseased; - Head, body, members vile contagion’s thrall, - By gore-stained hands Religion’s emblems seized-- - But Nations ne’er yet died when Tyrants pleased! - Yea, lives for aye the spirit and the soul - Invincible, howe’er by despots teased; - And let Injustice sting, Invasion roll, - The sudden counter-shock will shake the distant Pole! - - -XXXI. - - And quakes the stern invading Tyrant now, - Whose legions to the frontier back are driven; - For even Pyrene’s rocky margins bow - Before the giant march, with fetters riven, - Of Freedom’s phalanx marshalled on by Heaven! - Rey, on thine arm an Empire’s fate depends. - To San Sebastian haply now is given - The fortress key their swelling strength that bends. - France jealous eyes thee! Rey his post full well defends. - - -XXXII. - - From Guetaría see where vulture-eyed - That scowling band of Franks perforce retires, - And turns their chief in demon triumph joyed - To mark the scene where, Gaul, thy pride expires. - Sudden explode terrific blasting fires, - And swift the fortress-ruins blot the skies - With matrons, virgins, babes, and aged sires, - Rent by the train the ruffian, as he flies, - Hath left alight--to fierce Revenge a sacrifice. - - -XXXIII. - - Shudder, thou worm that point’st thy petty sting; - A breath may quench both thee and all thy line! - Fly, passion, hate, ’neath Mercy’s sheltering wing-- - Hath not the Lord declared: “Revenge is mine?” - Reptile, dost _Him_ defy? Not thus will shine - Thy courage when, at dissolution’s hour, - The more thou scornest now the more thou’lt whine, - And feel no weed that deems itself a flower - So mean as man who dares to brave the Almighty’s power! - - -XXXIV. - - From Haya’s crest of rough and broken crag - A darkling thunder-storm came grandly down. - From peak to peak, while gathering rain-drops lag, - The fiery demon leaps, from chasm to crown-- - Terrific dance!--then hides ’neath blackest frown, - Whose pall o’erspreads the sky; low growls at times, - Then volleying roars while floods the welkin drown. - Andaye took up the song of mountain-climes, - And Jaizquibél gave back the sound with thunder-chimes! - - -XXXV. - - San Marcial echoes it with savage pride, - The Grand Monarque rebellows it with zeal. - Then, when the monsters huge had shook each side - With giant laughter, of which every peal - Is thunder that can make the despot feel, - And waked Pyrene o’er his widest span, - While peak to peak replied, and torrents reel - With that rejoicing music, as it ran, - That spake their savage strength in terror’s tones to man. - - -XXXVI. - - Dark muffled thus they slept. Yet even in dreams, - Such dreams as mountain-spirits give to birth, - The thunderous memory lives. Low muttering seems - To sullen tell how baleful was that mirth, - Whose very faintest echo shook the earth, - Gigantic! Downward gathering comes the storm - O’er Haya’s flank and Oyarzuno’s girth - By crag and deep ravine, till lightning warm - With wind and rain it falls o’er Uruméa’s form. - - -XXXVII. - - And ’mid the thickest of the storm behold - Where scud Cantabria’s daughters through the tide, - The death-rain from the rampart fronting bold, - And bear to Britain’s sons, Hesperia’s pride, - The tribute of support for arms allied. - Now brighter beams each eye, and heroes wear - Unwonted blushes warrior cheeks to hide, - And feel thrice-nerved their arms by Beauty rare, - Their spirits bounding high: on Valour smiles the fair! - - -XXXVIII. - - Amongst these maids the beauteous Blanca stood, - Pride of the ocean-beat Biscayan coast; - A laughing damsel gay yet angel-good, - Light-haired, blue-eyed, in Spain no vulgar boast, - Where black-eyed maidens are a countless host. - With mirth so radiant was her spirit free, - That all she gladdened--melting roughest frost: - Like her none danced Bolera or Olé, - And none could featly touch the light guitar as she. - - -XXXIX. - - Her auburn hair in clustering curls around - Her sunny face now shrouded, now revealed - Its beauties, waving with each fairy bound; - Her peachy cheek now glancing, now concealed. - Her eye the wound it gave next instant healed, - So bright yet soft, so keen yet melting tender. - A sweetness inexpressible made yield - All hearts: ripe lips, and teeth of pearly splendour, - Made Nature’s task in vain another charm to lend her. - - -XL. - - No coif encircling bound her beauteous head, - No silken net her tresses rich confined, - To mar the lustre which her glances shed; - But ribands plain its wild luxuriance bind. - She wore no jewels: streamed upon the wind - A gauzy veil, with flowers of golden sheen - Embroidered, floating gracefully behind, - Her only ornament--yet form and mien - Proclaimed her thus attired ’mongst hundred maids the queen. - - -XLI. - - Her xaquetilla, to the shape most lithe, - Was of cerulean velvet, room supplying - For her full bosom’s play, when free and blithe - She plied the oar, yet to her form close lying, - Which no compression needed, art defying. - Two billows heaved within, as on the tide - She mastered, with its foam in whiteness vying; - And from her ears to every turn of pride - Two tiniest silver bells with tinklings sweet replied. - - -XLII. - - So fair the maid in infancy had been, - That San Sebastian chose her then to bear - A cherub’s wings amid the festal scene - Her warrior-patron’s day that honours there. - And with her foster-sister not less fair, - The noble Isidora, hand in hand, - Oft walked she thus in childhood--beauteous pair! - Though tender still their loves apart they stand, - For San Sebastian’s siege the approach of Blanca banned. - - -XLIII. - - She was the leader of the virgin group, - The Delia of that race of shallops gay; - And vigorous-handed to the oar could stoop, - When gales tempestuous tost the stormy Bay. - For high the spirit of that lightsome fay, - And bold as Manuela’s self, the Maid - Of Zaragoza, she could guide the fray, - The French marauders menaced undismayed, - And oft her wild guitar thus prompted to the raid:-- - - -The Spanish Song of Freedom. - - -1. - - Let the brave, let the brave fill the battered - War-chalice, fair Freedom, to thee; - On the slave, on the slave be it shattered, - Unless the slave pant to be free! - In glory, in glory we’ll perish, - Ere tyrants shall wither our plains. - This nectar, this nectar shall cherish - No dastard who spurns not his chains! - Let the brave, let the brave fill the battered - War-chalice, fair Freedom, to thee; - On the slave, on the slave be it shattered, - Unless the slave pant to be free! - _Libertad, libertad sacrosanta!_ - Were death in the depths of the flask, - _Libertad, libertad mi encanta_, - We’ll drain it to “Free be the Basque!” - - -2. - - For our homes, for our homes and our altars, - For our wives and our children we fight; - We but scoff at their dungeons and halters, - As bursts Freedom’s sun into light! - While our rights, while our rights we are seeking, - Great Power! ’tis thy will we maintain; - Though our swords, though our swords may be reeking - With blood, ’tis in rending the chain! - Let the brave, let the brave fill the battered - War-chalice, fair Freedom, to thee; - On the slave, on the slave be it shattered, - Unless the slave pant to be free! - _Libertad, libertad sacrosanta!_ - Were death in the goblet we drain, - _Libertad los tiranos espanta_, - We’ll pledge to the freedom of Spain! - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO I. - - -In August, 1813, as the preparations for the renewed siege of -San Sebastian were advancing, the besieged demonstrated their -confidence by celebrating the Emperor’s birthday with a splendid -illumination. The castle, upon whose crest it was exhibited, is -seen from a great distance; and the besiegers could plainly read -the letters of fire in which the name of Napoléon was written high -in air. - -The incidents of the siege I have derived chiefly from Napier’s -_History of the War in the Peninsula_, book xxii. chapters 1 and 2, -and from Jones’s _Journals of Peninsular Sieges_. The topography of -San Sebastian will be found sufficiently illustrated in either of -those works. - -The small castle of La Mota is most picturesquely situated like -a crown on the conical hill of Monte Orgullo, which rising -immediately behind the town westward, is nearly four hundred feet -high, and washed by the sea. “The Hill has a broad base of 400 -by 600 feet, and is crowned by fort La Mota.” Jones, _Journal of -Peninsular Sieges_, vol. ii. - -General Jones’s description of cutting off the aqueduct, and -converting it into a globe of compression, is thus prosaic but -practical and deadly:--“The parallel crost a drain level with the -ground, 4 feet high, and 3 feet wide, through which ran a pipe to -convey water into the town. Lieut. Reid ventured to explore it, -and at the end of 230 yards, he found it closed by a door in the -counterscarp, opposite to the face of the right demi-bastion of the -hornwork: as the ditch was narrow, it was thought that by forming -a mine, the explosion would throw earth sufficient against the -escarpe, only 24 feet high, to form a road over it: eight feet at -the end of the aqueduct was therefore stopped with filled sand -bags, and 30 barrels of powder of 90 lb. each, lodged against it, -and a saucisson led to the mouth of the drain.” _Journals of the -Sieges undertaken by the Allies in Spain_, Supplementary Chapter. -The aqueduct had been cut off at the commencement of the siege by -the Spanish general, Mendizabal. “It was formed into a globe of -compression designed to blow, as through a tube, so much rubbish -over the counterscarp as might fill the narrow ditch.” Napier, -_Hist._ book xxi. c. 3. This plan was subsequently realized, and -with complete success, “creating” says Jones “much astonishment in -the enemy,” at the period of the first assault, which took place on -the 25th July, five weeks before the second and memorable storming. -I have transferred the incident to the latter part of the siege. - -The incident of the discovery of the spring upon Monte Orgullo -after the cutting off of the aqueduct, but for which fortunate -accident the town would have been probably forced to surrender much -sooner, was communicated to me by an officer who was present at the -siege. It was found about half way up the cliff where it overhangs -the ocean, and surrounded by masonry is carefully preserved to the -present day. The water is excellent, and the flow abundant. There -were not wanting French partisans at the time, especially amongst -the elderly female residents in San Sebastian, who believed the -discovery of this spring to be miraculous! - -When Marshal Berwick attacked San Sebastian in 1719, he threw up -batteries on the same Chofre hills where the Allies now planted -theirs. He then pushed his approaches along the isthmus, and -established himself on the covered-way of the land front. As soon -as the breach was practicable, the governor capitulated. But the -present governor, Ney, was made of different stuff. Capitulation -was the last thing that he thought of, and Napoléon’s instructions -to the defenders of besieged towns were never more terribly -fulfilled than by this very gallant man. “Napoléon’s ordinance,” -says Napier, “which forbade the surrender of a fortress without -having stood at least one assault, has been strongly censured by -English writers upon slender grounds. The obstinate defences made -by French governors in the Peninsula were the results. * * It may -be reasonably supposed that, as the achievements of Napoléon’s -soldiers far exceeded the exploits of Louis (XIV.)’s cringing -courtiers, they possessed greater military virtues.”--_Hist._ book -xxii. c. 1. - -The attack was in a great degree carried on from the midst of -“circling orchards.” From the ground taken up by the besiegers to -Ernani, the whole country is covered with orchards. - -For the costume and other particulars of the Basque _barqueras_, or -boat-girls of the Bidassoa and Urumea, the reader is referred to -the tours of Madame D’Aulnoy and M. de Bourgoing. The _xaquetilla_ -is a “little jacket” or spencer. - -As reference is made to the Guerrillas in this canto, the following -brief sketch of the leaders may be acceptable:-- - -Mina was a man of powerful frame and noble aspect--a fine specimen -of Nature’s nobility. He was rather tall, of portly size, with -fine chest and shoulders, and gigantic arms. His features were -more English than Spanish in their aspect, being by no means dark, -and their expression powerful, dignified, and heroic. There is a -fine portrait of him in Somerset House, London. Like almost all -the Guerrilleros, however, he was cruel. The French, whom they -cut off by their most harassing mode of warfare, were mercilessly -slaughtered. Mina, who was of the common class of peasant-farmers, -began with a band of about twenty men whom he formed from amongst -his neighbours, appointing a sergeant and corporal. Repeated -successes and the character of the chief swelled this band to 300 -in number. Mina then appointed a lieutenant. The latter plotted -against his commander, and Mina shot him dead with a pistol, after -taxing him with his treason, in presence of his men. The rough -Spanish mountaineers liked his daring and resolute character, his -band swelled to a thousand, and his new lieutenant again conspired -to oust his leader. Mina had this man drowned in a well. He was -subsequently left unmolested in his command, until his powerful -genius organized and led an army. At his death, which occurred -about ten years since in Barcelona, he was a Field Marshal, a -Grandé of Spain, and Vice-Roy of Navarre. His widow became Aya or -Governess to the present Queen of Spain, Isabel, and held that -post till the expulsion of Espartero. Mina had a brother, Xavier -Mina, who entered the regular army at an early period of life, and -likewise rose to the rank of Field Marshal. He was treacherously -shot in Mexico by Morillo. - -The Empecinado was in person a still finer man than Mina, but of -a much less pleasing aspect. His face was stamped with savage -resolution and ferocity. His appearance was strictly Spanish, -his complexion being much darker than that of Mina. Both were -black-haired, but the Empecinado’s was of a raven intensity of jet. -He was one of the strongest men in Europe, tall and square-built--a -Hercules to the eye as well as in reality. Some nearly incredible -feats are recorded of his prodigious strength. The last of all -was the most worthy of note, and recalls the main incident of -our fine old English ballad of “Adam Bell, Clym o’ the Clough, -and William of Cloudeslie.” During the fatal year of the Duke of -Angoulême’s invasion, 1823, when so many Constitutionalists fell -victims to Ferdinand’s gloomy ferocity, and Riego was villainously -butchered at Madrid, the Empecinado was seized by the myrmidons -of Absolutism at a village about twenty miles distant, caged and -tortured for three days, and at the end of that time led out for -execution. At the foot of the _furca_ or gallows-tree, with one -effort he burst the thick cord with which his arms were bound, -and seized a gun from one of the soldiers near him. Had he not -been instantly slain, there is little doubt that with the butt-end -he would have slaughtered a hecatomb of the satellites of power. -But the whole file poured their fire into him at once, and he was -hung notwithstanding, though the rope was adjusted on a corpse! -The Curate Merino was distinguished for bush-fighting, and a -rather treacherous and Parthian mode of assault, and his aspect -corresponded with his character. His influence over his comrades -was secured by promises of eternal happiness. - -Blanca’s figuring in childhood in the character of an angel is -thus accounted for. The feast of San Sebastian is every year a -great event in that ancient town. The celebration is in many -respects interesting, including a procession in which female -children chosen for their beauty take a very prominent part, -bearing baskets of flowers, arrows typical of the martyr’s fate, -and other interesting emblems. Their dresses are of the richest -description--a little gaudy, to be sure, but beneath the brilliant -sky of Spain this is, perhaps, excusable. They represent angels, -and are provided with crowns set with mock diamonds, rubies, and -topazes of the largest size, and with gauze wings bound round with -gold or silver tissue. Short skirts of the ballet class, satin -shoes, and white silk stockings, complete an array of splendour -which excites, as may well be believed, terrific admiration in -their mammas and envy in all the rest of the town. A chorus from -time immemorial is sung to celebrate their progress, of which the -burthen is: - - Vivan las niñas - De San Sebastian! - - - III. “Bartolomeo’s heights”--“Antigua’s rocks.” - -Convents in the vicinity of San Sebastian, which were seized by the -besiegers and fortified. - - “And comes the battering train of cannon fell.” - - Ma il Capitan, ch’espugnar mai le mura - Non crede senza i bellici stromenti. - Tasso, _Ger. Lib._ iii. 71. - - - V. “--War proclaiming ‘to the knife’ ’Gainst Tyrants!” - -“_Guerra al Cuchillo!_” the celebrated proclamation of Palafox at -the Siege of Zaragoza. - - “Like the Caÿstrian bird.” - - ----Quæ Asia circum - Dulcibus in stagnis rimantur prata Caystri. - Virg. _Georg._ i. 382. - - “With death-notes rife.” - - ----Ut olim - Carmina jam moriens canit exequialia cygnus. - Tabuit; inque leves paulatim evanuit auras! - Ovid. _Met._ xiv. 430. - -These lines are dictated by the same feeling, which prompted -Cervantes’s last poetical address (in anticipation of death) to the -great Conde de Lemos: - - Puesto ya el pié en el estribo, - Con las ansias de la muerte, - Gran Señor, esta te escribo. - - - X. “Soon in Rey a noble foeman knew:” - -The French Governor of San Sebastian. - - - XI. “’Neath rapid Ocean’s amorous embrace.” - - Labitur ripâ, Jove non probante, - Uxorius amnis. - Horat. _Carm._ i. 2. - - “And on the Sierra swung the Convent bells.” - -San Bartolomeo. - - “The stabled charger bids the monk retire.” - -Sir Thomas More commemorates the housing of cattle in churches. -“They stop the course of agriculture, reserving only the churches, -that they may lodge their sheep in them.” (_Utopia_, book i.) -Bayle has a similar story in his Dictionary of an abbot who -converted his church into a stable, an example which was speedily -followed by revolutionary France. During the French invasion of -Portugal the cavalry were frequently quartered in churches, and -during the Miguelite war in that country I have been assured that -the same thing was witnessed more than once, and I know of a -Constitutionalist, at present a dignified, clergyman, who upon its -being found that the priest was absent upon some Saint’s festival, -stept forward himself and said mass for the assembled soldiers, -booted and spurred as he was and in dragoon regimentals! I have -often seen this pious gentleman in Lisbon, whom the populace -declare to have taken from an image of the Virgin the ring which he -now sports upon his finger! - - - XII. “Olia’s side.” - -The batteries of Monte Olia commanded the Castle at a distance of -1,600 yards, from the north side of the Urumea, Olia and Orgullo -buttressing the entrance of the river magnificently on either side, -and standing apart like giant ramparts. - - “The Mirador.” - -A battery on the eastern side of Monte Orgullo. The name signifies -“a look out,” the use to which it was formerly applied. It reminded -me very much of the Signal House at Gibraltar, only that I missed -those sapphire and chrysolite tints of the Mediterranean, which -struck me so much when I saw the moon rise from that elevated -ground under the auspices of the stalwart Sergeant MacDonald. - - - XIII. “And totter to their base Tirynthian walls.” - - --Τίρυνθά τε τειχιόεσσαν.--Hom. _Il._ ii. 559. - -Tiryns is the first walled city upon record. Its walls were -supposed to have been erected by the Cyclops, and the stones of -which they were composed were of such prodigious size, that the -least of them could not be moved by a pair of oxen. (Pausanias, -_lib._ ii.) The ruins subsist to the present day, and the traces -are still gigantic. Pindar mentions Tiryns in his Olympionics, -Nemeonics, and Isthmionics. These shattered remains present the -earliest specimen of the Cyclopean architecture. - - “The deadly sappers’ stroke that like an earthquake stuns.” - -This was the first time that sappers were employed by us in the -Peninsular sieges, or that a corps of sappers formed any regular -portion of the British army. It was likewise the first time that -Shrapnell shells were used. - - - XIV. “But what can like the British bayonet mar - Thy prowess, France?” - -The bayonet, originally a French invention (deriving, as is well -known, its name from the town of Bayonne), became ultimately the -very instrument of French defeat--for by the universal testimony -of military men, when wielded by British hands, the French have -invariably fled before it:-- - - --Neque enim lex æquior ulla, - Quàm necis artifices arte perire suâ. - Ovid. _de Arte Amandi._ - -But it would be as grossly unjust as ungenerous to dispute the -ardour and frequent brilliancy of French courage. Upon this subject -the discriminating testimony of Napier is as follows: “Place an -attainable object of war before the French soldier and he will -make supernatural efforts to gain it, but failing he becomes -proportionally discouraged. Let some new chance be opened, some -fresh stimulus applied to his ardent, sensitive temper, and he will -rush forward again with unbounded energy: the fear of death never -checks him, he will attempt any thing. But the unrelenting vigour -of the British infantry in resistance wears his fury out.”--_Hist. -War in the Penins._ book xxiv. chap. 6. - - - XV. “With glancing steel upon the trenches’ edge.” - - Wie glänzt im sonnenstrahl - So bräutlich hell der stahl-- - Hurrah! - Körner, _Schwertlied_. - - How glances bride-like bright - The steel which sunbeams strike,-- - Hurrah! - - - XVII. “See many a bark that swan-like floats the tide.” - - Eis mil nadantes aves pelo argento - Da furiosa Thetis inquieta. - Camóens, _Lus._ iv. 49. - - “Was never seen the like!” - -“It was probably the first time that an important siege was -maintained by women’s exertions; the stores of the besiegers were -landed from boats rowed by Spanish girls!”--Napier. - - - XIX. “The small black olive that the mountain loves.” - - --Lecta de pinguissimis - Oliva ramis arborum.--Hor. _Epod._ ii. - - - XXI. “As Atlas’ daughter in her sunlit isle.” - -Calypso. - - Ἄτλαντος θυγάτηρ ὀλούφρονος, ὅστε θαλάσσης. κ. τ. λ. - Hom. _Od._ i. 52. - - - XXIII. “Both man and dame excludes the Nereid throng.” - - ----τὸν εὐγενῆ - ... πεντήκοντα Νηρῄδων χορόν. - Eurip. _Iph. in Taur._ 273. - -“The illustrious band of the fifty Nereids.” - - - XXIV. “And swam with matchless skill--their element the sea.” - - Nadan en su cristal ninfas bizarras, - Compitiendo con el candidos pechos. - Lope de Vega, _Sonetos_. - - XXVII. --“Britannia’s hand - Made Earth and Ocean feel her trident stroke.” - -_Vide_ Virg. _Geor._ i. 13. - - --“Feeble councils numbed at home the arms - Which even thus paralyzed Gaul’s legions broke.” - -Under the administration of Lord Melville, the Navy of England for -the first time sustained disasters in battle, and ships containing -stores and money for the Peninsular army were suffered to be -taken on the passage by French and American cruisers; while the -despicable absurdity was witnessed of two successive investments -and assaults of San Sebastian without the co-operation of a fleet. - - - XXVIII. “Oh, glorious rivalship!” &c. - -_Vide_ Wordsworth’s “Convention of Cintra.” - - “Gibraltar’s griefs--St. Vincent’s memory rending.” - -The memorable siege, in which the Spaniards were finally defeated -on the 13th September, 1782.--The battle of St. Vincent, in which -Jervis destroyed the Spanish fleet, 14th February, 1797. - - - XXIX. “Spain’s Partidas.” - -_Partidas_ was the generic name of the partisan bands, who -maintained the indomitable Guerrilla warfare against the French, -and of whom there were not less than 50,000 at one period in -Spain. A favourite weapon of these legitimate successors of the -Almugavars, or ancient mountaineer troops of Spain, was the -_trabuco_, or blunderbuss. The two most famous Partida chiefs were -those whose names are recorded in the text. The Mina alluded to is -Espoz y Mina, the Scanderbeg of Spain, uncle to the Student of the -same name. - - - XXX. “But Nations ne’er yet died when Tyrants pleased!” - -The strongest proof of the inherent vitality of a Nation is that -Spain survived the villanies of Godoy. - - - XXXIII. “Reptile, dost _Him_ defy?” - - Wer empfinden - Und sich unterwinden - Zu sagen: ich glaub’ ihn nicht? - Der Allumfasser! - Der Allerhalter! - Goethe, _Faust_. - -“Who can feel, and dare to say: ‘I believe in Him not?’ the -All-encompasser, the All-sustainer!” - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto II. - - -I. - - How terrible the march of blood-stained War! - Though rank on rank his fiery breath lay low, - Still patriots crowd, and many a needless scar - And daring profitless derides the foe. - Oh, human passion! Is’t but human wo - Thou deign’st for food, for drink the crimson tide? - Incarnadined Ambition! Here bestow - A glance upon thy fruits, and learn to chide - Thy self-idolatry, thy more than fiendish pride! - - -II. - - Dauntless defenders! On Numantia’s wall, - Or ’mid self-fired Sagunthus’ leaguered towers, - Defying Hannibal whose eyes appal - The flames of sacrifice; or ’gainst the powers - Of Tarik fierce arrayed in darker hours-- - From rough Asturian mountains hurling down - Huge rocks whose maw the Moorish host devours, - While great Pelayo’s form with deadly frown - Up Covadonga’s vale comes trampling fell Mahoun! - - -III. - - Or ’mid the echoing heights that girdle round - Fair Roncesvalles taming haughty France, - When Roland’s horn with its tremendous sound - No response woke from aidful troop’s advance, - And Paladin and Peer Bernardo’s lance - Beneath Pyrene slaughtered; or more late - At mightiest Zaragoza, where askance - Flew Gaul’s derided death-bolts winged by hate,-- - Unyielding still as here by San Sebastian’s gate. - - -IV. - - Not many moons before, Gaul’s soldiery - Through fair Cantabria’s coast licentious strayed, - Brought rapine to the homesteads of the free, - And deathless grief to many a beauteous maid; - And wo unutterable cast its shade - Along Biscaya’s lovely sunlit shore. - Weak natures drooped their foreheads, sore afraid, - But Blanca proudly lifted hers the more, - And death to him whose hand might ruffian-dare she swore! - - -V. - - Not long the chance removed, not long the arm - Of withering conquest left the test untried; - To sabred villains an unrifled charm - Were like a stigma to inhuman pride. - A gentle sister clung to Blanca’s side - One sweet May eve when fills the clustering vine; - And ’neath the trellised porch embowering wide, - As forth their footsteps strayed from Home’s sweet shrine, - Two bearded French hussars forbade them pass its line. - - -VI. - - “What! buxom damsels--not discerned before. - “Where hid my Venus?” Blanca cried: “Forbear!”-- - “How now? By Heaven, this coyness fires me more; - “No dame of Normandy more beauteous fair, - “No Bretonne maiden binds more golden hair.”-- - “Black,” quoth his comrade “is of Beauty’s flower - “For me the hue--so, lovingly we’ll share. - “Come, be a soldier’s bride--for half an hour.” - He grinned--both troopers laughed--the maids were in their power! - - -VII. - - This Blanca saw, nor seemed she to resist, - E’en smote not when the dastard seized her waist, - Resented nought when one her sister kist, - Nor frowned when his compeer herself embraced. - Thus lulled each fear, each dark suspicion chased, - They called for wine, the lawless soldier’s bane. - O’erjoyed was Blanca, yet with eager haste - As poured she cup on cup which swift they drain, - Betrayed no joy, though fast it mounted to each brain. - - -VIII. - - Fired with the generous vintage, which gave all - The ruffian forth, as gives it forth the balm - Of nobler natures, the hussars appal - The maidens’ breasts with many a sinking qualm. - Hell gleams from forth their eyes; and burns each palm; - Distended wide their satyr nostrils scare! - Ye maids of England, blissful in your calm - Security, oh, long from you be far - Invasion’s horrors dire, the fiendishness of War! - - -IX. - - One villain seized the gentle Ana’s arm, - And dragged her to the bowering vineyard near; - With cruel irony, “lest aught of harm,” - He said, “should chance to reach your sister dear, - “I’ll take my carbine with me,”--for with fear - He marked the flashing wrath in Blanca’s eye; - Then o’er his shoulder with this parting jeer - He sought to rouse his comrade: “Jules, good b’ye; - “The dove you think you’ve caught may like a falcon fly.” - - -X. - - But Jules still cried: “More wine!” And Blanca poured - Like Hebe for this flagrant Hercules, - While ever and anon she eyed his sword; - But--happier fate--while drains he to the lees - Another cup, he drops his head and frees - His carbine with the movement. Swift as thought, - She lifts the weapon--to the vineyard flees;-- - The deadly tube she to a level brought, - When Ana’s struggling arm a friendly vine-branch caught. - - -XI. - - Unskilled her aim--but stainless purity - Gave loftiest courage, nerving eye and hand. - She breathed a prayer--an instant gazed on high-- - “Oh, Virgin Queen, _mi madre_, guardian stand!” - Next instant she discharged the flaming brand. - Within the throb of Ana’s beauteous breast - Flew the fleet bullet. Heaven its progress banned; - And through the ravisher’s hot heart it prest, - His fell design extinct in death’s eternal rest! - - -XII. - - Up starts the drunkard sobered by the sound, - And runs with hasty sabre to the scene; - But Blanca dropt the carbine to the ground, - Which like Camilla’s battleaxe, I ween, - The virgin bore; and like that Volscian queen, - When fiery swift her footsteps past the steed - Of Aunus’ son, she bounded o’er the green; - And, Ana’s hand in her’s, with matchless speed, - Reached the far shore, where swift her floating bark she freed. - - -XIII. - - Maddened with rage quick followed the hussar, - But soon his footsteps checked the foaming tide. - Gnashed were his teeth while shot the bark afar, - And rung the maidens’ laughter clear and wide; - For greater not Penthesilea’s pride, - Girt by her crescent-shielded Amazons - In war’s array, whom Dian dared not chide! - Full soon the joyous news like lightning runs, - And wins undying fame ’mongst wild Cantabria’s sons. - - -XIV. - - And ever after Blanca bore the name - “La Espingarda,” which her daring told, - And gave the carbine she discharged to fame, - When Innocence was made by Virtue bold. - Oh, selfish were the breast, methinks, and cold, - That would not look with eye of favour there: - Such was the maid who led that Nereid fold,-- - Whose loud guitar, in scorn a chain to wear, - Called her compatriot men to guard Iberia fair. - - -XV. - - Thus oft between Isaro’s isle and San - Sebastian Blanca past with fancy free, - Till through her veins Love’s soft infection ran, - And tamed her spirit of wild gaiety. - A gallant youth and fond did Blanca see - ’Mongst Albion’s sons who lay the town before. - Of all the host was braver none than he, - And Blanca trembled to her bosom’s core - Beneath his eagle-glance, when love he whispered o’er. - - -XVI. - - Full many a sweet, nor yet delusive tale - He told the maid of mingling heart and hand, - And home and household gods in sweetest vale - Amid the glories of his Motherland, - Of joys that glistened ’neath Hope’s faëry wand, - And life’s long course by Gnidian torches lighted, - Of foreheads pure by milder zephyrs fanned, - And England’s happier clime by war unblighted. - His passion soon declared, their mutual vows were plighted. - - -XVII. - - Hast thou not seen a clear and sparkling rill, - Upon whose ripplings joyous sunbeams quiver, - Flow swift, yet tranquil, from its native hill - Straight to the bosom of some mighty river,-- - Its separate existence lost for ever, - Its name, its nature, sunk in the devotion - Of that great confluence? Calm as to the Giver, - Her life she gave, nor struggle nor commotion - Showed where that streamlet flowed, for ever mixed with Ocean. - - -XVIII. - - Morton the youth was named--majestic tall, - For strength and symmetry his shape combined; - Gentle as valiant, generous, loved by all; - A soldier frank, pellucid was his mind, - His judgment sound, his bearing ever kind; - To her ’twas tenderest love that hourly grew. - The pride that scorns unequal lots to bind - In wedlock deeply he contemned, nor knew - A thought that was not all to humbler Blanca true. - - -XIX. - - And Morton from the maiden learnt how soon - Might Santa Clara’s rocky isle be won, - Where batteries planted ere another moon - The siege must end, and Mota’s fortress stun - With many a thunder-voiced o’erpowering gun; - And Blanca promised to the shore to guide. - Swift Morton warm with warlike zeal doth run, - His plans unfolding to his Chief with pride, - And valiant Graham doth give to Morton margin wide. - - -XX. - - Soon were his comrades chos’n, and Nial first, - His bosom-friend, companion oft in arms; - Both of the Light Brigades, and both athirst - For Glory! Nial led ’mid War’s alarms - A file of Rifles. Danger still had charms - For him transcendent; young, as woman fair, - Slight-formed yet lion-brave--his vigour warms - The veteran. Clothed his cheek with beauty rare, - Yet none in all the host so actively would dare. - - -XXI. - - The Spaniards oft declared he was a girl - In male attire, till they beheld his deeds. - The oldest soldiers watched his looks in per’l, - Obeyed his slightest sign, and where he leads - Follow in battle--though the column bleeds. - Yet Nial hath not reached his twentieth year! - Noble and proud is every thought he feeds. - Such was the youth, who Morton counselling clear, - His plans to take the Isle arranged the trenches near. - - -XXII. - - And as they spoke the batteries raised their voice, - From crowned La Mota raining shot and shell, - Drove through the ranks, and made the Gaul rejoice - With many a horrid gap that, ah, could well - Its tale of dire disaster silent tell! - For fragments strewn of gunner and his art - Lay quivering round while fierce the foemen yell. - Dismounted gun, and shattered carriage, chart, - Line, linstock, bullet, corse, were tossed in every part. - - -XXIII. - - “Rey’s petulant to-day,” quoth Nial. Straight - A huge artillery waggon by their side, - That fed our batteries, six strong horses’ freight, - Struck by a shell, up-bounding scattered wide - War’s provender. The missile dumb doth bide-- - A minute’s pause of horrible suspense, - That hushed each heart, and paled the cheek of Pride! - Then with explosion terrible, immense, - Its dire contents around were showered in ruin dense. - - -XXIV. - - The riders instant died--three gunners more - Were gravely wounded. Mad with pain and fright, - The horses started off at gallop o’er - The plain, while blazed the waggon with that bright - Combustion. One steed wounded fell outright; - And frantic with the fiery mass each bound - Whirled through the air--the wheels themselves alight-- - They dragged both horse and waggon o’er the ground, - Till all was shattered ’mongst Ernani’s orchards found. - - -XXV. - - “Swift--to the Island!” both the friends exclaim; - And as night fell their boats from cove concealed - Beneath Antigua’s convent seaward came; - Full soon with muffled oars that nought revealed, - They lay ’neath Santa Clara’s rocky field; - And Blanca in the crag disclosed a cleft, - Where straight they land. But loud the sent’nel pealed - The alarum gun, its post the picquet left, - And flew like burghers bold to guard from midnight theft. - - -XXVI. - - But soon, o’erpowered by numbers, their array - Was beaten back--resistance now was vain. - Submissively their arms were lowered away, - And o’er their sorrowing breasts a captive chain - Is gently flung: “Our battery soon shall reign - “Triumphant here,” quoth Morton, “thanks to thee, - “Sweet maiden.” Blanca smiled, and cried,--“For Spain!” - Then to her bark once more she bounded free, - And with her Nereids young thus sang and smote the sea: - - -The Oar-Song. - - -1. - - Lean to your oars; - Pull along cheerily; - Ne’er let the shores - Drag along drearily. - Courts are but slavery, - Grandeur is smoke; - Our’s the true bravery; - Bend to the stroke! - - -2. - - See where the tide - Sparkles phosphorical; - Learning is pride, - Science an oracle! - While through the water we - Dash with our stems, - Royally scatter we - Myriads of gems. - - -3. - - Stoop with good will; - Joyous our motion is. - Breast with air fill; - Sapphire-like Ocean is! - Laugh at each lazy man, - Keep the stroke--so; - Poor lackadaisy man - Never could row! - - -4. - - Where is the joy - Like the oar feathering? - Where’s the alloy - Tempests in weathering? - Lash the spray, scattering - Many a beam; - While our oars clattering - Flash through the stream! - - -XXVII. - - Upon thy buckler, Gaul, terrific rang - Vittoria’s powerful stroke, and reeling back - Thy phantom-King to tall Pyrene sprang; - Thy shattered Army, sorrowing deep for lack - Of conquest or of guiding, fell to wrack, - By the great arm of Arthur paralyzed, - Till rapid Soult, when loured the sky most black, - From Dresden rushed and chaos methodized: - No Marshal-Chief, be sure, Napoléon higher prized. - - -XXVIII. - - Yet wise by experience, taught a cautious dread, - And rocking still from England’s vigorous blows, - A hissing serpent’s more than lion’s head - That earth-struck host presented when it rose, - And watched the hour to spring upon its foes. - First San Sebastian to relieve its aim, - Next to redeem lost glory and oppose - Our strong advance, upon Pyrene tame - The pride that dares its crags, and France preserve from shame. - - -XXIX. - - See where the couchant giant bristling lies, - Pyrene with his mountain sides and hair - Of forests dense. His crest doth pierce the skies, - His limbs are precipices poised in air, - His rugged spine full many a peak doth bear; - His ribs, huge ridges, part on either hand, - His mouths are deep ravines where torrents tear - Through rocks a course to Man that seemeth banned. - Yet there our heroes march, their brows by Victory fanned. - - -XXX. - - At Zabaldíca now with gathering ire - The rival armies stand on fearful steeps, - Where rocks on rocks are piled like bastions dire, - And savage Solitude sublimely sleeps, - And Cristovál’s and Lanz’s torrent leaps - Adown the valley where Sauróren smiles. - The pass to San Sebastian England keeps. - There Morton brave and Nial lead their files; - And hardy veterans climb those cloudy mountain piles. - - -XXXI. - - What clattering steed doth gallop fleet as air - Through the Lanz valley, making earth to shake - ’Neath his hoofs’ thunder? With that horseman dare - None ride save one, the noblest, for his sake - Light valuing life or limb. Thought-swift they make - Sauróren. O’er the mountain crest they see - Clausel’s brigades from Zabaldíca take - The glen. Leaps from his horse that rider free - To the bridge-parapet, and writes full rapidly. - - -XXXII. - - It is great Arthur, who the varying chance - Of mountain-warfare spirit-like doth seize. - Cole eagle-eyed and gallant Picton France - Would fain cut off; but now our Chief with ease - Averts the danger. Rapid as the breeze, - Somerset’s charger gallops carrying far - His fresh instructions. Dashes through the trees - The French light horse--in vain his course they mar, - And Arthur tranquil rides, the ascent to him no bar. - - -XXXIII. - - The Lusitan battalions first descried - The advancing Chief, and raised a shout of joy. - Uneasy they while distant he doth ride; - Their treasure-trove, their gold without alloy! - The British legions swift caught up the cry, - Which swelled along the line till stern it rose - To Battle’s shout appalling fierce the sky-- - The shout that tells the breast to Victory goes, - The shout that ne’er was heard unmoved by Britain’s foes! - - -XXXIV. - - An instant stopt great Arthur on the brow - Of that steep mountain. Both the Armies saw - The Hero at that moment. Soult was now - So near, each rival Chief could plainly draw - The lineaments of each that strike with awe - Their several hosts: “Now strong,” thought Arthur, “is he, - “But cautious. Of that shout he will, some flaw - “Suspecting, much inquire; and thus will free - “My scattered host, till all combined resistless be.” - - -XXXV. - - And Soult, indeed, the battle’s shock withheld, - Till rose next morning’s sun. But forth he pushed - His skirmishers whose fire was keen repelled, - Yet not till night was o’er the mountain hushed. - For rode the Marshal where Lanz’ torrent gushed, - Our whole position cautiously surveying: - By deep defile to far Villalba rushed - The infant Arga, all around displaying - Our troops on every height, for battle fast arraying. - - -XXXVI. - - Upon a rugged mountain’s craggy crest, - A shrine of spotless Mary clustered round - The Lusitan battalion. Soult possest - With thought of weakness there, where cannon frowned - At Zabaldíca, raised Destruction’s sound; - But vain its poise ’gainst that enormous height, - His shot from lower crags doth back rebound. - Powerless his ordnance for Titanian fight, - ’Tis Nature’s storm-artillery ushers in the Night! - - -XXXVII. - - Dumb be your voices while the thunder-chime - Peals from Pyrene’s turrets, echoing far. - While roar the elements with rage sublime, - Hushed be your strife, Pygmæan men of war! - See, see, ye tremble at the lightning-scar. - Your brands are sheath’d--ye feel as feathers, dust. - Away! nor God’s designs profanely mar, - Wreaking on brother-forms your gory lust. - In vain! France tempts her doom, and England holds her trust! - - -XXXVIII. - - Next morn the absent corps our army join. - Joy to our Chieftain for his guidance true! - Sir Pack’s not yet hath come--but Marcaloin - Shakes with its onward tramp--though from the view - Of hawk-eyed Soult ’tis hid. To battle flew - His host, assailing Cole in front and rear. - Clausel from the Lanz valley poureth too - His skirmishers--the mountain-side they clear; - Cole’s left is rapid turned--defeat we now may fear. - - -XXXIX. - - But sudden rises o’er the mountain’s crest-- - What is’t? An army new of warriors dread-- - Pack’s corps, whose swift approach by Soult unguest - Great Arthur’s eagle-eye to battle led, - In place and time where best our ranks are fed. - Instant their clattering fire is hostile blended. - Cole smites the foeman’s right, whose left too bled - From Lusia’s arms; their front, by Pack offended, - With violent shock the vale in headlong flight descended. - - -XL. - - The Gaul who had strove to compass round our left - Himself is now encompassed--in that dire - Extremity of daring not bereft, - But facing all around in conflict’s ire - His fierce assailants--scattering with his fire - Full many a corse, where Frenchmen thicker fell. - But climbs Clausel’s reserve the mountain higher, - Up craggy steep where doth the Virgin dwell. - Stern was the fight, and Gaul had battled ne’er so well. - - -XLI. - - See from Sauróren in the vale beneath - Where darts that column to the mountain-shrine, - Nor fires a shot, but silent o’er the heath - Strains to the rugged summit, while their line - Is swept by fiery tempest. Bright doth shine - French valour there. Though ranks be swept away, - Unchecked their ardour. For the crest they pine, - And win it. Lusia’s rifles swell the fray, - And France upon this point an instant gains the day. - - -XLII. - - But Ross his bold brigade of Britain’s sons - Hath close at hand; and Nial, Morton there - With martial ardour each impetuous runs, - Heading their veterans in the fray to share. - With lusty shouts against the French they bear, - And strongly charge and down the mountain dash. - Yet undismayed again the foemen dare - The dire ascent--again their firelocks flash. - Again o’erturned they fall, and vain their valour rash. - - -XLIII. - - Through sulphurous shroud new skirmishers ascend, - And mount the crest new columns of attack; - Ev’n gallant Ross an instant forced to bend - Before that fiery crowd recedeth back, - But to return next instant with no lack - Of desperate courage. Up the crest once more - Our heroes charge, nor Gallic fire doth slack. - Charge upon charge succeeding o’er and o’er, - Each gains and yields by turns--the sod is dyed with gore. - - -XLIV. - - But Britain must the foemen hold at bay, - Whom Creçy, Poictiers, Azincour beheld, - Whom Blenheim, Ramilies, and Malplaquet, - And Oudenarde saw by Britain’s yeomen felled-- - The foe on every field in Spain she quelled! - Brief, potent words did Nial, Morton then, - While proud effusion from their bosoms welled, - Address with voice inspiring to their men, - And lead with flashing swords the charge again, again! - - -XLV. - - Oh, solid Infantry! oh granite breasts! - Like Rome’s Triarians there they stand or fall. - Each flashing death-tube not an instant rests, - Save where the bayonet-flash may more appal. - By France outnumbered, yet till slaughtered all - The ground they’d hold. Their wounded and their dead - Are laid in one terrific line, a wall - Of dauntless valour: by Leucadia’s head, - So stood Leonides with Persia’s life-blood red! - - -XLVI. - - A rampart of the brave--of dead and dying! - Thy column, Gaul, advances to the line, - And halts where stern that gory bulwark’s lying, - While Britain’s heroes all their fire combine. - Nor ’mid tremendous showers of death repine - Their wounded comrades smote, since death may bring - The foeman under. Gaul, as drunk with wine, - Reels from excess of slaughter. Forward spring - Our bayonets to the charge. The foe is on the wing! - - -XLVII. - - Then rose the shout that told of England’s power - Triumphant on that new Thermopylæ, - And gallant hands were clasped in glory’s hour, - And beamed Hesperia’s eye more bright to see - That now in spite of Hell she will be free! - And Nial, Morton folded heart to heart: - “Joy! joy! This day shall long remembered be, - “For France hath vainly tried her utmost art.” - And tears of joy were seen from many an eye to start. - - -XLVIII. - - Oh glow of Victory! oh, thrilling pride - Of triumph in the strife of mind or hand! - More dear to mortal breasts than all beside, - In mart or senate as in warlike band, - In court or cell--where’er by conquest fanned - The swelling temples wear thy plume, Success! - How pure thy throb when Freedom lights a land, - When pen, tongue, sword a cause sublime confess, - Well worthy to aspire, befitting Heaven to bless! - - -XLIX. - - Lo, where the giant form of Liberty - Arises grand yet shadowy dim o’er Spain. - With smiles her champion, Arthur, she doth see, - And frowns terrific with august disdain - Upon the Invaders, trampling on the chain! - A fiery sword that as a comet blazed - On high she brandished, like the angel-train - O’er Paradise. The tyrant-host amazed - Saw their expulsion doomed, and trembled as they gazed. - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO II. - - -For the incidents from ancient Spanish history with which this -Canto opens, the reader is referred to Livy (lib. xxi. et Epit.) or -to Ferguson’s _Roman Republic_, where a full account will be found -of the ever-memorable Sieges of Saguntum and Numantia. The ruins -of Saguntum (Liv. loc. cit.) or Sagunthus (Sil. Ital. lib. i.) are -still visible on the sea coast, a little to the north of Valencia. -The site of Numantia, having a much more central position, a few -miles north of Soria, capital of the small province of that name -in the eastern part of Old Castile, is more conjectural than -that of Sagunthus. The name of Numantia is erroneously spelled -“Numantium” in Mr. Lockhart’s _Ancient Spanish Ballads_, a work -of extraordinary merit, notwithstanding a few inaccuracies. The -particulars of the siege of Numantia are to be found in the 57th -_Epitome_ of Livy’s lost books. The Moorish invasion under Tarik, -the fall of Roderick, and the struggles of Pelayo, are described -or alluded to by Byron, Scott, and Southey. The scene in the -Vale of Covadonga is one of the finest passages in the latter’s -poem of _Roderick_, where huge masses of rock are hurled down on -the advancing Moorish host at the signal of the following words -pronounced by the heroine: - - --“IN THE NAME - OF GOD! FOR SPAIN AND VENGEANCE!” - Southey, _Roderick_. book xxiii. - -The fight at Roncesvalles is the most memorable in the entire -range of Romantic History, and has been alluded to, amongst other -poets, by Pulci, Ariosto, Milton, Scott, and Lockhart. The siege of -Zaragoza will be found described in detail in a succeeding canto. -The ferocity displayed by the Moors in their invasion appears to -have been not at all exaggerated by the Spanish chroniclers, and it -is curious that this fierceness of aspect should have been noticed -many centuries before by Horace: - - Acer et Mauri peditis cruentum - Vultus in hostem. - _Carm._ i. 2. - -The modern representations of Abd-el-Kader’s warriors by French -artists square with the ancient notions of the Moorish ferocity of -aspect. I myself have seen at Tangier and Gibraltar for the most -part fine-looking men, but certainly with a tinge of ferocity, and -here and therewith an expression worthy the “truculentus Maurorum -vultus.” The introduction of Mohammedanism seems to have altered -nothing in this respect, for in the days of Julius Cæsar, as Horace -here attests, the same physiognomy was apparent; and Suetonius, -speaking of the war between Cæsar and Juba, king of Mauritania, -represents even the Roman legions as affrighted: “Famâ hostilium -copiarum perterritos ... expectatio adventûs Jubæ terribilis.” -_cap. 66._ - -The part which I assign to the Basque boat-girls, and the -strain of sentiment which pervades their oar-song, although not -consonant with a peaceful state of cultivated society, is quite -characteristic of Spain during the Peninsular War. The creed of -Hippolytus was not very favourable to those literate pretensions -which Molière has so pleasantly satirized in his “_Précieuses -Ridicules_,” and the Basque barqueras would be quite to his taste. -The persecuted of Phædra, whose uncompromising chastity caused his -neck to be broken, said:--Σοφὴν δὲ μισῶ, “I hate a learned woman;” -and Blanca and her sisters of the oar appear to have extended that -hatred to both sexes. - -Gen. Jones’s record of the seizure of the island of Santa Clara -in the mouth of the harbour is as follows:--“A party of 200 men -was landed this night on the high rocky island of Sta. Clara, -and made prisoners of the enemy’s guard on it, of an officer and -twenty-four men.” _Journals, &c., Supp. Chapt._ Napier makes the -military party to consist of only 100 men--such difficulties -does one meet in ascertaining the minute parts of even recent -history. But probably Gen. Jones may have estimated that the -seamen amounted to another hundred. “A heavy fire was opened on -them,” says Napier, “and the troops landed with some difficulty, -but the island was then easily taken, and a lodgment made with the -loss of only twenty-eight men and officers.” _Hist._ book xxii. -c. i. The historical fact of the supplies having been conveyed -to the besiegers at San Sebastian by boat-girls gives warrant to -the supposition that they may have assisted in the capture of the -Island. - -This Canto describes the principal warlike operations between -the battle of Vittoria and the first battle of Sauroren, with a -description of the first part of which it terminates. The incidents -will be found in Napier’s _History_, book xxi. chap. 5. - -The concluding incident is from the combat of Maya, which took -place in the same neighbourhood a few days previously, and is -thus described by Captain Norton, of the 34th regiment.--“The -ninety-second met the advancing French column first with its right -wing drawn up in line, and after a most destructive fire and heavy -loss on both sides, the remnant of the right wing retired, leaving -a line of killed and wounded that appeared to have no interval. -The French column advanced up to this line and then halted, the -killed and wounded of the ninety-second forming a sort of rampart; -the left wing then opened its fire on the column, and as I was -but a little to the right of the ninety-second, I could not help -reflecting painfully how many of the wounded of their right wing -must have unavoidably suffered from the fire of their comrades.” -This frightful butchery appears to excite the enthusiasm of some -of its military historians. “So dreadful was the slaughter,” says -Napier, “that it is said the advancing enemy was actually stopped -by the heaped mass of dead and dying; and then the left wing of -that noble regiment coming down from the higher ground smote -wounded friends and exulting foes alike, as mingled together they -stood or crawled before its fire. * * The stern valour of the -ninety-second, principally composed of Irishmen, would have graced -Thermopylæ.”--_Hist. War. Penins._ book xxi. chap. 5. - - - III. “When Roland’s horn with its tremendous sound.” - - La dove il corno sona tanto forte - Dopo la dolorosa rotta. - Pulci. - - - VIII. “Fired with the generous vintage, which gave all - The ruffian forth,” &c. - - Κράτιστον μὲν τῆς ἀκμῆς τῶν χαιρῶν τυγχάνειν· ἐπειδὴ δὲ δυσκαταμαθέτως - ἔχουσιν. κ. τ. λ. - Isoc. _ad Nicocl._ - -“It is most excellent to enjoy moderately the height of felicity; -but this men find most difficult to learn.” - - - X. “Like Hebe for this flagrant Hercules.” - - Τέρπεται ἐν θαλίῃς, καὶ ἔχει καλλίσφυρον Ἥβην, - Παῖδα Διὸς μεγάλοιο καὶ Ἥρης χρυσοπεδίλου. - Hom. _Od._ xi. 602. - - “Flagrans amor Herculis Heben.”--Propert I. 13. 23. - - - XII. “Which like Camilla’s battle-axe, I ween.” - - “Rapit indefessa bipennem.”--Virg. _Æn._ xi. 651. - - “When fiery swift her footsteps past the steed.” - - ----“Pernicibus ignea plantis, - Transit equum cursu.” - --_Ib._ 718. - - - XIII. “Girt by her crescent-shielded Amazons.” - - “Fœminea exsultant lunatis agmina peltis.” - --Virg. _Æn._ xi. 663. - - - XVII. “Hast thou not seen a clear and sparkling rill, &c.” - - Qualis in aerii pellucens vertice montis - Rivus, muscoso prosilit e lapide; - Qui cùm de pronâ præceps est valle volutus, - Per medium densi transit iter populi. - Catul. lxvi. - - - XVIII. “A soldier frank, pellucid was his mind.” - - Ἀλλ’ ἐνθάδ’, ἐν Τροίᾳ τ’, ἐλευθέραν φύσιν - Παρέχων, Ἄρη, τὸ κατ’ ἐμὲ, κοσμήσω δορί. - Eurip. _Iphig. in Aul._ 930. - -“_Achil._ Both here and in Troy, displaying a frank mind, as far as -in me lies, I will illustrate Mars in battle.” - - - XX. --“Nial led ’mid War’s alarms - A file of Rifles.” - - --Sævam - Militiam puer, et Cantabrica bella tulisti - Sub Duce. - Horat. _Epist._ i. 18. - - - XXI. “The Spaniards oft declared he was a girl.” - - Era Medoro un mozo de veinte años, - Ensortijado el pelo, y rubio el bozo, - De mediana estatura, y de ojos graves, - Graves mirados, y en mirar suaves. - Lope de Vega, _Angelica_, iii. - - - XXVII. “Till rapid Soult,” &c. - -Rapidity of conception and execution were marked features in -Marshal Soult’s military character. The decree by which Napoléon -appointed him his Lieutenant in Spain was issued at Dresden on -the 1st July, 1813, ten days after the battle of Vittoria. On the -eleventh day he was in the midst of the army in Spain! “The 12th, -Soult, travelling with surprising expedition, assumed the command -of the armies of the ‘north,’ the ‘centre,’ and the ‘south,’ now -reorganized in one body called ‘the Army of Spain.’ And he had -secret orders to put Joseph forcibly aside if necessary, but that -monarch voluntarily retired from the army.” Napier, _Hist. War in -the Penins._ book xxi. chap. 4. “Marshal Soult was one of the few -men whose indefatigable energy rendered them worthy lieutenants -of the emperor; and with singular zeal, vigour, and ability he -now served.”--_Ibid._ “Such was Soult’s activity that on the -16th all the combinations for a gigantic offensive movement were -digested.”--_Ibid._ - - - XXIX. “His rugged spine full many a peak doth bear, - His ribs, huge ridges, part on either hand.” - -This is the actual formation of the Pyrenees. A great spinal -ridge runs diagonally across this entire mountain tract, trending -westward. From this spine sierras shoot forth on both sides, and -the communications between the valleys formed by these ridges pass -over breaks in the sierras, called _puertos_ by the Spaniards, and -_cols_ by the French. - - - XXXI. “What clattering steed doth gallop fleet as air.” - -On the 27th July, Wellington, having been unable to learn any thing -of the movements of Picton and Cole, who had been left in the -valley of Zubiri and on the adjoining heights of Linzoain, on the -evening preceding, and dreading lest Soult’s combinations should -cut them off, quitted Sir Rowland Hill’s quarters in the Bastan at -a very early hour in the morning (these early matutinal movements -have been always characteristic of his Grace) and descending the -valley of Lanz, reached Ostiz, a few miles from Sauroren, where he -met General Long with his brigade of light cavalry, who informed -him that Picton and Cole had abandoned the heights of Linzoain, and -were moving on Huarte, “He left his quarter-master-general with -instructions to stop all the troops coming down the valley of Lanz -until the state of affairs at Huarte should be ascertained. Then -at racing speed he made for Sauroren. As he entered that village -he saw Clauzel’s divisions moving from Zabaldíca along the crest -of the mountain, and it was clear that the allied troops in the -valley of Lanz were intercepted, wherefore pulling up his horse, he -wrote on the parapet of the bridge of Sauroren fresh instructions -to turn every thing from that valley to the right, by a road which -led through Lizasso and Marcalain behind the hills to the village -of Oricain, that is to say in rear of the position now occupied -by Cole. Lord Fitzroy Somerset, the only staff officer who had -kept up with him, galloped with these orders out of Sauroren by -one road, the French light cavalry dashed in by another, and the -English general rode alone up the mountain to reach his troops,” -&c.--Napier, _Hist._ book xxi. c. 5. - - --“Thought-swift they make - Sauróren.” - -I trust this Teutonism will be pardoned, believing these forms of -expression to be more suited to the genius of our language than has -been hitherto supposed, and likely to be more generally introduced -into poetical diction. - - - XXXII. “Cole eagle-eyed and gallant Picton.” - -The gallantry of Picton and the keen observation of Cole were -eminent characteristics of those two generals respectively. The -danger which they ran in this instance was very imminent. Picton -“directed Cole to occupy some heights between Oricain and Arletta. -But that general having with a surer eye, &c.”--Napier, _Hist._ -book xxi. c. 5. Wellington’s rapid riding on this occasion defeated -a very able combination of Soult’s. The Duke was always an expert -and eager horseman, and it was not for nothing that he kept his -pack of fox-hounds in the Peninsula. - - - XXXIII. “The advancing Chief * * - Their treasure-trove, their gold without alloy!” - - Longas, ô utinam, dux bone, ferias - Præstes Hesperiæ! - Horat. _Carm._ iv. 5. - - “The shout that ne’er was heard unmoved by Britain’s foes.” - -“That stern and appalling shout which the British soldier is wont -to give upon the edge of battle, and which no enemy ever heard -unmoved.” Napier, _Hist._ book xxi. c. 5. - - - XXXIV. “Soult was now so near, &c.” - -“Lord Wellington suddenly stopped in a conspicuous place, he -desired that both armies should know he was there, and a double spy -who was present pointed out Soult, then so near that his features -could be plainly distinguished. The English general, it is said, -fixed his eyes attentively upon this formidable man, and, speaking -as if to himself, said: ‘Yonder is a great commander, but he is a -cautious one and will delay his attack to ascertain the cause of -these cheers; that will give time for the sixth division to arrive -and I shall beat him.’ And certain it is that the French general -made no serious attack that day.” Napier, _ibid._ - - - XXXVI. “But vain its poise ’gainst that enormous height.” - -“Some guns were pushed in front of Zabaldíca, but the elevation -required to send the shot upward rendered their fire ineffectual.” -Napier, _ibid._ - - “’Tis Nature’s storm-artillery ushers in the night.” - -“A terrible storm, the usual precursor of English battles in -the Peninsula, brought on premature darkness and terminated the -dispute.” Napier, _ibid._ - - - XXXVII. “Dumb be your voices, while the thunder-chime, &c.” - - Bedecke deinen himmel, Zeus, - Mit wolkendunst, und übe! - Goethe (_Prometheus_). - -“Curtain thy heavens, Zeus, with clouds and mist, and exercise thy -arm!” - - “While roar the elements with rage sublime,” &c. - - Nè quivi ancor dell’ orride procelle - Ponno appieno schivar la forza e l’ira; - Ma sono estinte or queste faci or quelle, - E per tutto entra l’acque, e’l vento spira * * - La pioggia ai gridi, ai venti, al tuon s’accorda - D’orribile armonía, che’l mondo assorda. - Tasso. _Gerus. Lib._ vii. 122. - - --“Ye feel as feathers, dust.” - - ----La materia humana-- - Viento, humo, polvo, y esperanza vana! - Lope de Vega, _Sonetos_. - - - XXXIX. “Pack’s corps, whose swift approach by Soult unguest.” - -General Pack was in command of the sixth division till this battle, -when he was wounded, and the command passed to general Pakenham. - - - XL. “Stern was the fight, and Gaul had battled ne’er so well.” - -Throughout the entire Peninsular campaigns, the French never fought -with such desperate valour as on this and the few preceding and -following days. In Soult they had the utmost confidence; they saw -that a crisis had arrived, and trembled for France. “The fight -raged close and desperate on the crest of the position, charge -succeeded charge, and each side yielded and recovered by turns; -yet this astounding effort of French valour was of little avail.” -Napier, _ibid._ - - - XLI. ----“Lusia’s rifles swell the fray.” - -General Ross’s brigade of the fourth division was posted on this -strongly contested height, having a Portuguese battalion (the -seventh caçadores, tenth regiment) in his front, with its flank -resting on the chapel. “The seventh caçadores shrunk abashed, and -that part of the position was won.” Napier, _ibid._ The inequality -with which the Portuguese fought was remarkable throughout the -Peninsular War. They fought well, or gave way, in great measure -according to the impulse of the movement. Here they gave way, then -inspired by the example of Ross’s brigade renewed the combat, but -again gave way. “Soon, however, they rallied upon General Ross’s -brigade * * and the tenth Portuguese regiment fighting on the right -of Ross’s brigade yielded to their fury.” Napier, _ibid._ Sometimes -they fought extremely well. - - - XLIII. “Ev’n gallant Ross.” - -This epithet was well deserved by general Ross, and is assigned -to him by Napier. “That gallant officer.” Book xxi. c. 5. I am -proud to record the exploits of my countryman, whose name and -achievements are endeared to me by early recollections. A lofty -column is erected in his honour at the beautiful village of -Rosstrevor, within seven miles of which, at Newry, my early years -from infancy to the period of my going to College were passed. -All my summers were spent in and near Rosstrevor, one of the most -charming sea-bathing spots in the British dominions. The noble Bay -of Carlingford stretches before it, girt by an amphitheatre of -lofty hills, and Killowen Point, the Wood-house, Greencastle, the -light-house, and Grenore, with the ancient and picturesque town -of Carlingford, the stupendous mountain overhanging it, and the -bleak tract extending along to Omeath, contrasted with the sunny -and wooded slopes beyond, have left impressions indelible even -during much travel in foreign lands. I rejoice to perceive that a -railway is about to open up this magnificent region, and trust that -this new means of intercourse will be eminently beneficial to the -warm-hearted inhabitants of all the surrounding district. - - “But to return next instant with no lack - Of desperate courage.” - - Φεύγειν μὲν οὐκ ἀνεκτὸν, οὐδ’ εἴωθαμεν. - Eurip. _Iphig. in Taur._ 104. - -“For to fly is not tolerable, neither has it been our custom!” - - “Each gains and yields by turns--the sod is dyed with gore.” - -This action between Ross’s brigade and Clauzel’s second division -was one of the most terrific during the war. “The fight,” says -Napier “raged close and desperate on the crest of the position, -charge succeeded charge, and each side yielded and recovered by -turns.” - - - XLV. “So stood Leonides, with Persia’s life-blood red.” - - ἐν Σπάρτᾳ δ’ ἐρέω - πρὸ Κιθαιρῶνος μάχαν: - ταῖσι Μήδειοι κάμον ἀγκυλότοξοι: - Pind. _Pyth._ i. - -“In Sparta I will sing the fight before Cithæron, where the Median -bowmen fell.” For the details of the battle, and of the Trachinian -treason, see Herodotus, _lib._ 7. Pindar does not name Thermopylæ, -but Cithæron being in its immediate neighbourhood would make the -allusion at once intelligible. Pindar with instinctive good taste -prefers the name “Cithæron” to that of “Thermopylæ,” the latter -name, though to us so magnificent, sounding somewhat vulgar to -Greek ears, as indicating the θερμὰ λουτρὰ, or hot-baths from which -it was derived. - - - XLVII. “That now in spite of Hell she will be free.” - - Siasi l’inferno e siasi il mondo armato. - Tasso, _Gerus. Lib._ xiii. 73. - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto III. - - -I. - - But France though vanquished oft doth oft renew - The assault which British arms alone can quell. - Her columns fresh the wrested prize pursue, - And at the Siérra’s foot their numbers swell. - Exhausted War’s munitions now, so well - Have England’s sons with fire the foeman plied, - And anxious eyes upon their leaders dwell:-- - “See, see, brave hearts,” young Morton stoutly cried, - “While rocks like these abound, we’ll guard the mountain’s side!” - - -II. - - And at the word he loosed with might and main - Such stone immense as feigned Æolides - In Orcus tortured flung. Down to the plain - It rolleth bounding with gigantic ease, - The mountain shaking, crashing through the trees, - Dislodging many a smaller granite mass. - Appalled its dire approach the foeman sees. - On, on it rolls, still thundering o’er the grass, - Till in the vale it rests, nor dares the Gaul to pass. - - -III. - - And on the foremost crest our men have now - Full many a rock’s Aiantine volume rolled; - Prepared to hurl them from the mountain-brow, - Their powerful hands this rude artillery hold, - Should thirst of vengeance make the assailants hold. - But men who Death had braved in every form - Of War’s destruction known to them of old, - Before this unfamiliar mountain-storm - Have quailed, and our’s the height all strewn with corses warm. - - -IV. - - O’er Zabaldíca and the torrent Lanz - Frowned a steep hill, where Spain her sons had placed - Beneath Murillo. There the host of France - Its efforts now concentring urged with haste, - And tirailleur and voltigeur embraced - The peak around, while marched Clausel and Reille - Their columns dense along the mountain-waste. - They charged--Pravía stood the shock awhile, - But numbers soon o’erpower Hesperia’s broken file. - - -V. - - In silence stern a British column waits, - Till on the summit France a footing get; - Then rose the charging cry whose peal elates - The Island-warrior’s breast. With bayonets set, - They rushed upon the advancing crowd, and wet - Was every sod with blood. The broken mass - Was down the mountain hurled, as from the net - The fisher casts his prey. Impetuous pass - Tempestuous bullets showered, and shiver them like glass. - - -VI. - - But France not yet retires, for on this day - Pyrené’s fate and her’s will be decided. - Though, man ’gainst man, their courage melts away, - The charge by Gaulish chiefs again is guided-- - Again the powers of Fate and Death derided! - Thrice the assault’s renewed, and thrice each chief - His wearied men doth onward drag to bide it. - In vain! The British shock makes contest brief. - Faint, spiritless, abashed, the foemen seek relief. - - -VII. - - And Gaul, her infantry thus forced to yield, - Now tries the onset of her dashing horse; - And charging through the valley shakes the field - With thunderous gallop, trampling fallen horse - And writhing wounded men without remorse. - Our bold hussars beside the river’s edge - With flaming carbines they would backward force; - Their chargers’ strength they wield like potent wedge, - And strive to urge our men adown the rocky ledge. - - -VIII. - - Our fiery squadrons standing in reserve - Now join the mêlée, flashing fast around - Pistol and carbine--then with powerful nerve - They bathe their swords in blood at every bound, - While ’neath the shock terrific quakes the ground. - See, where yon huge heart-piercéd rider falls; - His horse affrighted at the clattering sound - Drags him by th’ foot which still the stirrup thralls, - Till Death arrests them both ’mid storm of flying balls. - - -IX. - - Oh, generous, strong, and fleet are England’s steeds, - And mettled high their riders even as they! - Though with the cavalier the horse too bleeds, - Yet horse and cavalier have won the day. - Two Gaulish chiefs have perished in the fray. - To the streamlet edge the foe is backward driven; - With spur deep-plunged he leaps the stream--away! - But many a jaded horse his life hath given - Headlong adown the bank, where rider too is riven. - - -X. - - On every side now Britain’s foes repelled - Feel that to stand before her might is vain; - Our strong position is securely held-- - Lords of the mountain, masters of the plain - From Vascongada’s frontier to the main. - Our batteries planted on the bloody hill - Before the Virgin’s shrine their death-shot rain - From far Illurdos to Elcano’s rill, - From towering Cristovál to Oricain at will. - - -XI. - - But D’Erlon hath concentred all his force, - And seeks, by steep Buenza, Hill to crush. - O’erpowering numbers urge their onward course, - And Hill retires--but not till he doth hush - The fire of D’Armagnac with torrent rush. - By Lecumberri Soult essays a path - To San Sebastian through our line to push. - But eye more keenly sure great Arthur hath, - And breaks the foe’s design with counter-stroke of wrath. - - -XII. - - With rapid steps Zubiri Picton gains; - His skirmishers molest Foy’s shattered flank. - From Zabaldíca’s crest Foy sees the plains - Strewn with the flower of many a fallen rank. - But powerless he for aid--the bayonet drank - Upon the hill the life-blood of his corps, - Where before Cole’s assault his veterans sank, - While gallant Inglis down the mountain o’er - Clausel and Conroux falls with shock that frights them sore. - - -XIII. - - And headlong from the Sierra Byng, too, comes - To where Maucune the smiling village keeps. - Our cannon from the height the ear benumbs; - The bullets crash where that Arcadia sleeps, - And many a peasant for his Lares weeps. - Along the valley booms the thunderous sound; - And quivering child and pallid virgin creeps - For shelter to the mountain-caves around, - While swells the demon-strife, and death-shot ploughs the ground. - - -XIV. - - Sauróren bridge where late great Arthur wrote - His rapid mandate o’er the torrent’s fall, - The deep Lanz valley by the thunder smote, - The hills above, the blooming village--all - Are covered o’er with dense, sulphureous pall; - And musketry its sharp and rattling peal - Incessant echoes ’gainst the mountain-wall. - While fills the glen tumultuous shot and steel, - The volumed smoke can scarce the form of death reveal. - - -XV. - - Sauróren’s won! The Gallic host is broken, - And thousand prisoners own our conquering hand; - Disarmed and guarded well in Victory’s token, - But nobly used as fits a generous land. - Gaul’s columns fly in many a scattered band - To Urtiága’s pass and Ostiz’ steep, - By Lusia’s sons pursued with flaming brand. - But, ah, Sauróren’s maids and matrons weep, - For from the Virgin’s shrine did many a death-bolt leap! - - -XVI. - - As mariners who on a stormy sea - The magnet lose that guides them o’er the wave; - As warriors marshalled oft to victory, - Who lose the sacred banner of the brave: - So with their tears these mountain-children lave - Lanz’ trodden glen; for, ah, the diadem - That girds the Virgin’s brow no more shall save. - Death rained on Lanz beneath each sparkling gem. - A Madre de Dolór is Mary now to them! - - -XVII. - - Night falls around--in dark and dense defile - Nial and Morton with their gallant host, - Where even by daylight rarest sunbeams smile, - In Leron’s frightful wilderness are lost. - By frowning precipice, through crags high-tost - By earthquakes old--through forests grimly black, - Like ghosts they wandered, crost and then re-crost, - Nor pathway saw to forward move or back, - Nor means of exit found, nor even a desert-track. - - -XVIII. - - “Cheer up, my friends,” said Nial; “whom the foe - “Hath ne’er made flinch the forest shall not quell. - “Full many a pine-branch waves at hand to show - “The way--no torch so fitly or so well.” - Then many a pine-branch torn, with resinous smell - Told of its fiery aliment--the flash - Of muskets gave them kindling.--Through the dell, - Waving on high these flaming brands they dash, - And to their comrades shout who tempt the forest rash. - - -XIX. - - Thus on they moved through thicket, glen, and brake, - By precipice, and crag, and torrent brink, - And yawning chasm that made the boldest quake, - Till without end the dark ravine they think; - And wildered many a foot by flaming link, - That guided few save them the links who bore: - Benighted thus till with fatigue they sink, - Steep crag and glen profound they wandered o’er, - Their beacon fires alight--but none can find a shore. - - -XX. - - And pealed their shouts incessant through the gloom, - With clamour wounding the dull ear of Night, - Till as in churchyards peopled grows each tomb - To midnight wanderers, rose their souls to fright - Infernal Phantoms! On each towering height - Seemed demons sprung with torches from their den, - Their footsteps to mislead with Hellish light; - Till Morning rose, and showed the mount and glen - All strewn with faces wan and worn and wearied men. - - -XXI. - - But daylight woke their hearts to hope and joy; - Refreshment needful cheered their bivouac. - The column they rejoined without annoy: - And there of gladness was, I ween, no lack, - Where soldiers hailed their former comrades back. - Now Soult by perils prest hath outlet none, - Save by Maria’s pass with omens black; - And swiftly, near Lizasso, Hill hath won - Upon his rear, unchecked by Leo’s burning sun. - - -XXII. - - His cannon opened loud with bellowing sound, - And ’neath its deadly roar the French ascend; - Till near the summit of the pass they found - A wood that stretched its branches to befriend. - Yet see, they turn, and skirmishers defend - The steep, but Stewart leads the stern assault. - Soon broke their files, their menace soon doth end. - Headlong they fly, and dareth none to halt-- - But thickest mist doth fall--and leave our men at fault. - - -XXIII. - - Thus Menelaüs, while his brazen spear - Thirsting for Paris’ blood is brandished high, - No longer sees the slender youth appear, - But riseth cloud to thwart his vengeance nigh, - Which Aphrodite gliding from the sky - (So sings Mæonia’s bard) doth interpose; - And even while glares Atrides’ conquering eye, - And to his men the adulterer’s helm he throws, - The mist o’erspreads his form and shields from deathful blows. - - -XXIV. - - But o’er the heights that gird the fearful pass - Our troops are gathered soon, and France doth quake, - For now the terrible defile in mass - Her legions enter. Many a brow doth ache. - Our warriors’ death-shots direful havoc make. - They quail--they fly--confused disorder reigns. - Rank upon rank doth every instant break, - Nor Soult’s commanding voice the rout restrains. - They pass, but many a captive leave to mourn his chains. - - -XXV. - - To Yanzi now! where narrower still the cleft - Which France must pass. By Zubiéta came - Our Light Division, ne’er of hope bereft - To reach the ground ere Gaul can thwart the aim - That there full terrible her pride shall tame. - Our warriors through Elgoriága glide, - Fatigue exhausting many a wearied frame, - And toil they faintly up the mountain-side; - But Morton urged their zeal, and Nial touched their pride. - - -XXVI. - - Light-hearted chieftain-boys! No knapsacks they, - No firelock’s weight, no full cartouches bore. - The promptings of their valour they obey; - And Leo’s sun in vain o’er them doth pour - His maddening rays--for courage warms them more! - But clambering Santa Cruz’s torrid steep, - Full many a soldier fell convulsed, while gore - And froth commixed their parchéd mouths o’erleap, - And respite found from toil in Death’s eternal sleep! - - -XXVII. - - And leaned their comrades on their firelocks then, - Whose spirits stern had ne’er before been quelled; - And muttered, “What could more be asked of men?” - And for an instant’s time almost rebelled. - But rose a tear to Morton’s eye, and held - His forehead Nial aching at the sight - Of warriors whom fatigue like death-shot felled. - When saw the men their leaders felt aright, - A hearty cheer they gave, and scaled the fearful height. - - -XXVIII. - - A precipice beneath o’erhung the bridge - Of Yanzi. Hurrying past the French were seen - Along the dread defile. Upon the ridge - His men by Morton ranged their firelocks keen - Discharged. ’Mongst clustering shrubs his rifles green - Did Nial gather lower down the steep. - Oh, dire the calls of duty oft had been, - But direst this! The chieftains almost weep; - The men avert their heads, Death’s harvest while they reap. - - -XXIX. - - For pistol-shot might reach the hastening throng, - Who through the horrid chasm defenceless crowd. - The wounded men on branches borne along - Were flung to earth--in vain their voices loud - Implored for aid, all trampled in the shroud - That wrapt them blood-besmeared. Confusion dire - Possest the ranks. The bravest horsemen cowed - Charged up the pass to escape the avenger’s ire; - The footman ’gainst the hussar was forced to turn his fire. - - -XXX. - - And many a stalwart cavalier and horse - Was headlong flung in Echallara’s stream, - And many an ailing man was soon a corse; - From many a musket fires defensive teem, - Held skyward--but in vain their flashes gleam, - For terrible our vantage. Some too rushed - In veteran might o’er Yanzi’s bridge, and deem - Our flank to gall, but soon their fire was hushed. - The wounded quarter sued--’twas given by conquerors flushed. - - -XXXI. - - And prisoners fell by thousands in our hands, - And all the convoy, treasure, spoil was our’s. - At Echallar and Ivantelly stands - The foe once more, and tempts the leaguering powers; - But daring Barnes upon the mountain towers - With lion-heart, and smites the clustering foe. - Though five to one their number ’gainst us lours, - In vain the arméd throng withstands the blow. - The fortress-crag is won--the French are hurled below. - - -XXXII. - - On Ivantelly’s giant peak they fling - Their last defiance--soon their hope doth melt, - Like hoar upon a sunny morn in Spring, - For there our light brigades their way have felt - Through mist thick gathering, as erewhile it dwelt - Upon Lizasso’s brow, but not to arrest - Again our footsteps. Many a blow they dealt, - Though viewless fatal. Through the clouds they guest - The foeman’s shadowy form, and scaled the mountain’s breast. - - -XXXIII. - - Through misty veil that crowns the topmost crags - Doth Nial with his rifles plunge amain; - Nor Morton with his light battalion lags. - Gaul’s chosen grenadiers Clausel with pain - Sees from the mist emerging to the plain. - Sharp rings the rifle;--with sonorous roll - The musketry less keen replies--in vain! - Disordered France retires, and rends the pole - Our shout victorious raised--the peak is Glory’s goal! - - -XXXIV. - - Pyrene’s won! Upon the tallest crest - Did Nial, Morton mark with fond embrace - The crowning victory. Why together rest - Their eyes, the mist now melted, on that place - Beneath? Ye Powers! It is great Arthur’s face. - The flying French have eyed him too where o’er - His mountain charts, and plans of war the base, - With escort small intently he doth pore, - And none suspects the prize the foemen swift explore. - - -XXXV. - - Rushed Nial, Morton madly down the steep - In generous rivalry who first should reach - To avert the peril. Roelike was each leap - From crag to crag--they are come--the danger teach, - Which Arthur learns with gracious smile to each. - Swift to his charger strong the Chieftain springs: - The Frenchmen’s bullets whistle vain as Speech - Where Action’s wanting. See, his steed hath wings; - And safe is he whose fate had sealed the doom of Kings! - - -XXXVI. - - Strove Arthur long to learn which youth he owed - For safety and deliverance gratitude; - But Nial said ’twas Morton forward strode - The first, and Morton urged that Nial viewed - The peril soonest--Friendship’s generous feud! - Where each desired that each the prize should hoard; - And eyes that witnessed it were tear-bedewed. - Great Arthur gave each noble youth a sword, - That bore his mighty name--magnificent reward! - - -XXXVII. - - But thirsteth Pride for San Sebastian’s towers, - For foiled one effort to surmount her wall; - And Death that sweeps each host had swept down our’s - A moon before in numbers to appal. - ’Tis Honour’s voice, then, bids each bastion fall; - Such man’s decree! The galleries swift advance. - A triple mine upheaves the firm sea-wall - With fierce sulphureous shock. Rocks heavenward dance - To ope our troops a path against the sons of France. - - -XXXVIII. - - And pant for glory ’midst their brave compeers - Nial and Morton--keen as curbéd steed. - Though soft their souls in love to melt in tears, - In war they could unmoved see hundreds bleed. - Of passionate fervour was their patriot creed, - And next to Heaven they loved their native land. - With Blanca there to fly, when Spain was freed, - Before the frowning wall young Morton planned, - And murmur thus his lips while waits his eager band:-- - - -The Glory of Islands. - - -1. - - Forbid the linnet from its nest, - And crush its homeward aspirations-- - As vain to chide the heaving breast, - And woo repose in foreign nations! - No, England, no! beyond the foam, - Around thy beauteous shore that circles, - I would not fix my lasting home - For every gem that brightest sparkles! - - -2. - - More cloudless bend Italian skies; - Burgundian fruits more richly cluster; - Iberia’s slopes more gently rise, - And shine her stars with purer lustre. - O’er Adria’s coast, o’er fair Stamboul, - O’er soft Mæonia show’rs more splendour. - Out, sunk ’neath Slavery’s abject rule! - ’Tis _thou_ art Freedom’s grand defender! - - -3. - - Far sunnier Isles the South make glad, - From Palma’s gulf to the Ægean; - Idalia rose and myrtle clad, - Sicilian shores, and bowers Dictæan; - The Cyclades that shine to snare, - From Lemnos old to Rhodes romantic; - And far Funchál, whose balmy air - Swells earth’s best vine ’mid the Atlantic. - - -4. - - But, oh loved land! what magic lifts - Thee high above all rival glory, - Fills up the void of Nature’s gifts, - And makes thy deeds the pride of story? - What charm endues thy talisman, - Thou chrysolite amid the waters, - And deifies the power of man? - The genius of thy sons and daughters! - - -5. - - The vigorous thought, the spirit firm, - The pride of truth, the deep devotion, - The labouring head and stalwart arm, - That crown thee Queen of Earth and Ocean! - That clothe with grain thy rugged steeps, - Thy factory piles make teem prolific, - And man the fleet each sea that sweeps - To make its trembling shores pacific. - - -6. - - Illustrious land! Yet more than this, - Thou harbourest all life’s solid graces-- - No fiends that murder with a kiss-- - No treacherous breasts ’neath smiling faces! - Oh! still be thine the bold, the true, - The honest, manly, independent; - In mind, in heart, in sinew, too, - O’er every other land transcendent! - - -XXXIX. - - Nor slow was Rey the city to defend, - Exhausting all the arts that War supplies. - A yawning chasm within the breach doth end; - Loopholed with fire a counterwall defies - Approach;--where’er the rampart broken lies, - A traverse cuts it off--the streets are trenched; - Mines trebly charged prepare to blot the skies - With shattered limb, and head from shoulder wrenched, - Of him who dares the assault, yet not a cheek is blenched! - - -XL. - - And strongest whetstone of fierce Valour’s edge - Thy name, Napoléon! For thee would dare - Thy Guard to leap adown Destruction’s ledge, - For thee would scoff in mockery of Despair! - Genius and energy thou well couldst share - With all thy Chiefs, and courage give thy men, - That scorned to yield with life their lion-lair. - A barbarous strife thou didst require--what then? - The last Barbarian thou that rushed from Scythian den! - - -XLI. - - Meteor of Conquest! terribly endowed - With every faculty to bless or mar, - With voice to speak to Man like trumpet loud, - And eagle-eye with ken for peace or war - Omnipotent, save when Heaven dealt the scar! - Thy course for bale that might have been for bliss, - Thy darling Victory streamed a crimson star. - Around thy laurelled forehead serpents hiss; - And closed thy glory’s dawn, Destroyer, choice like this! - - -XLII. - - Trampler on Human Liberty! Thy plan - Embraced no welfare save thine own; thy aim - A pyramid--each stone a sword-hewn man,-- - Rivers of blood o’er Earth to write thy name. - Gigantic was thy crime--as great thy shame! - Even now with gory talon to the North - Thou fliest, the elements but canst not tame; - And there, to teach the peaceful victor’s worth, - Men rigid as their frosts have sent thee howling forth! - - -XLIII. - - Scourge of the Nations! thy appointed time - Is near its close--exhausted is thy quiver. - Vain is thy complex thought, thy grasp sublime; - Nor whirlwind, plague, nor tyrant lasts for ever! - Couldst thou not from the ground one blade dissever - Of joyous herbage, save with butchering steel, - Nor give one glory to the Eternal Giver? - Couldst thou but wound that mightst so nobly heal? - I see thy end begin--for Man thou didst not feel! - - -XLIV. - - And yet France loved thee--loved thy daring flight, - Thy mighty genius--thy creative power; - The soldier’s idol and the hind’s delight-- - For ’twas the people made thee like a tower - That topt all Nations! In thy happier hour - A glorious code thou gav’st. Thy sway was just - To France--thy monuments a deathless dower. - No luxury turned thy energies to rust. - A Conqueror why become? why serve Ambition’s lust? - - -XLV. - - What are thy mightiest triumphs? Pages torn - From bloodiest records. What thy phalanx armed? - Assassins. Thy parade of Conquest? Shorn - Of glare deceptive, plunder. Earth alarmed - Saw the career, that dazzled it and charmed, - Sunk in fell Tyranny. Thy potent rays, - Melting all fetters, might have millions warmed - With Freedom. Thou didst forge, to fiends’ amaze, - New shackles for thy kind. Let Hell eclipse thy blaze! - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO III. - - -This Canto describes the battles of Sauroren on the Pyrenees, with -the leading incidents in the minor combats of Buenza, Doña Maria, -Echallar and Ivantelly which followed. The first battle of Sauroren -took place on the 28th July, 1813, the fourth anniversary of the -battle of Talavera, and was remarkable for the extraordinary valour -displayed by the French under Soult, which, having obtained a -slight success at Buenza, they repeated with almost frantic efforts -at Echallar and Ivantelly on the 2nd August, their principal object -being to relieve San Sebastian. But in vain. Lord Wellington -described the first of these actions as “bludgeon work.” The loss -on both sides was very considerable; but it was here demonstrated -by our soldiers, in the words of Napier “that their opponents -however strongly posted could not stand before them.” The actions -will be found detailed in his History, book xxi. chap. 5. - -The incident of the defence of the mountain top by flinging down -rocks, is taken from the previous combat, where it occurred as -described by Napier in the following words: “The British, shrunk in -numbers, also wanted ammunition, and a part of the eighty-second -under Major Fitzgerald was forced to roll down stones to defend the -rocks on which they were posted.” (_Hist. ibid._) The allusions to -Sisyphus and to Ajax will I trust be excused. It is difficult to -exaggerate such incidents. There was surely something Titanic in -the character of this Pyrenean warfare. - -The Spanish regiment which gave way towards the end of the battle -(the poor soldiers were starved by their miserable commissariat) -was that of El Pravia, which was stationed on the left of the -fortieth, and the latter regiment justly styled by Napier the -“invincible” victoriously concluded the combat. “Four times this -assault was renewed, and the French officers were seen to pull up -their tired men by the belts, so fierce and resolute they were to -win. It was, however the labour of Sisyphus.” (Napier, _ibid._) -The cavalry engagement was maintained by our tenth and eighteenth -hussars. I occasionally detach my heroes, Nial and Morton, to other -infantry corps for poetic effect. - -The terrible scene at the bridge of Yanzi is described by Captain -Cooke in his _Memoirs_ as follows:--“We overlooked the enemy at -stone’s throw, and from the summit of a tremendous precipice. The -river separated us, but the French were wedged in a narrow road -with inaccessible rocks on one side and the river on the other. -Confusion impossible to describe followed, the wounded were thrown -down in the rush and trampled upon, the cavalry drew their swords -and endeavoured to charge up the pass of Echallar, but the infantry -beat them back; and several, horses and all, were precipitated into -the river; some fired vertically at us, the wounded called out for -quarter, while others pointed to them supported as they were on -branches of trees, on which were suspended great coats clotted with -gore, and blood-stained sheets taken from different habitations to -aid the sufferers.” - -The incident of extricating Wellington by the agency of Nial -and Morton from his imminent peril of falling into the hands of -the French is taken from the following passage at the end of -Napier’s description of the combat of Ivantelly: “Lord Wellington -narrowly escaped the enemy’s hands. He had carried with him -towards Echallar half a company of the forty-third as an escort, -and placed a sergeant named Blood with a party to watch in front -while he examined his maps. The French who were close at hand -sent a detachment to cut the party off; and such was the nature -of the ground that their troops, rushing on at speed, would -infallibly have fallen unawares upon Lord Wellington, if Blood, a -young intelligent man, seeing the danger, had not with surprising -activity, leaping rather than running down the precipitous rocks he -was posted on, given the general notice, and as it was the French -arrived in time to send a volley of shot after him as he galloped -away.” (_Hist._ book xxi. c. 5.) - -The prodigies accomplished by our Peninsular veterans, of which -this and the preceding Canto fall short in the narration, need -little attestation. But here is the testimony of one of Napoléon’s -Generals:--“Bien que leurs corps soient robustes, leurs ames -énergiques, et leurs esprits industrieux,” &c. (Foy, _Hist. -Guerre. Pénins._ liv. ii.) “Le Prince-Noir et Talbot étaient nés -dans Albion. Marlborough et ses douze mille soldats n’avaient pas -été les moins redoutables ennemis de Louis XIV. * * Nos soldats -revenus d’Egypte disaient à leurs camarades la valeur indomptée -des Anglais. Il n’etait pas besoin d’une réflexion profonde pour -déviner que l’ambition, la capacité, et le courage sont bons à -autre chose qu’à être embarqués sur des vaisseaux.” (_Ibid._) “Leur -humeur inquiète et voyageuse les rend propres á la vie errante -des guerriers, et ils possèdent une qualité, la plus précieuse -de toutes sur les champs de bataille, le calme dans la colère. -* * Telle est la puissance Anglaise. C’est Bonaparte en action, -mais Bonaparte toujours jeune et toujours vigoureux, Bonaparte -persévérant dans sa passion, Bonaparte immortel.” (_Ibid._) “Le -soldat Anglais ... son corps est robuste. Son ame est vigoureuse, -parceque son père lui a dit et ses chefs lui répétent sans cesse -que les enfants de la vieille Angleterre, abreuvés de _porter_ et -rassasiés de bœuf roti, valent chacun pour le moins trois individus -de ces races pygmées qui végètent sur le continent d’Europe. * * -Il marche en avant. Dans l’action, il ne regarde pas à droite ni à -gauche.” (_Ibid._) - -The brilliancy of our cavalry service is equally acknowledged, -though French military writers strive sometimes to mock it, very -ineffectually, as in the following example; “Dans la retraite -de la Corogne, les corps de cavalerie faisaient halte; le chef -commandait: _Pied à terre; prenez vos pistolets_; et à un troisième -commandement, chaque cavalier brûlait la cervelle à son cheval en -un temps et deux mouvements.” (Foy, _Hist. Guerre. Pénins._ liv. -ii.) - -In illustration of the character of Napoléon, of which I have -attempted some analysis in this Canto, I have drawn together a few -striking passages from the most eminent military writers of England -and France, Napier and Foy:-- - -“That greatest of all masters of the art of war.” (Napier, _Hist. -War in the Penins._ book xxiv. chap. 6.) “In following up a victory -the English general fell short of the French emperor. The battle of -Wellington was the stroke of a battering ram, down went the wall in -ruins. The battle of Napoléon was the swell and dash of a mighty -wave, before which the barrier yielded and the roaring flood poured -onwards covering all.” (_Ibid._) “That successful improvisation in -which Napoléon seems to have surpassed all mankind.” (_Ibid._) - -“Vaincre et trouver des instruments de victoire était le travail -de sa vie.” (Foy, _Hist. Guerre. Pénins._ liv. i. _Caractère de -Napoléon._) - -“Jamais esprit plus profondément meditatif ne fut plus fécond en -illuminations rapides et soudaines.” (_Ibid._) - -“Toujours prêt à combattre, habituellement il choisissait -l’occasion et le terrain. Il a donné quarante batailles pour huit -ou dix qu’il a reçues.” (_Ibid._) - -“Napoléon’s system of war was admirably adapted to draw forth and -augment the military excellence and to strengthen the weakness of -the national character. His discipline, severe but appealing to the -feelings of hope and honour, wrought the quick temperament of the -French soldiers to patience under hardship, and strong endurance -under fire. * * He thus made his troops, not invincible indeed, -nature had put a bar to that in the character of the British -soldier, but so terrible and sure in war that the number and -greatness of their exploits surpassed those of all other nations.” -(Napier, _Hist. War in the Penins._ book xxiv. chap. 6.) - -“Ce n’est pas avec les règles de Montécuculli et de Turenne -manœuvrant sur la Renchen qu’il faut juger de telles entreprises. -Les uns guerroyaient pour avoir tel ou tel quartier d’hiver; -l’autre, pour conquérir le monde. Il lui fallait souvent non pas -seulement gagner une bataille, mats la gagner de telle façon -qu’elle épouvantât l’Europe et amenât des résultats gigantesques. -Ainsi les vues politiques intervenaient sans cesse dans le génie -stratégique. * * Quelque habile qu’on soit, il y a presque toujours -dans ce jeu terrible des risques proportionnés à la grandeur des -profits. Le succès est devenu plus chanceux. Les armées étaient -plus nombreuses. Ses ennemis, à son exemple, ont eu aussi des -masses. * * La machine n’était plus maniable; il a été écrasé.” -(Foy, liv. i.) - -Napoléon’s was a game of double or quits played with the hardihood -of a determined gambler. The value of the stakes became multiplied -with alarming rapidity, as in the arithmetical problem of the -horse-shoe-nails. All the military population and resources of the -empire became involved in the chances of the die, and he lost the -last throw. - -General Foy narrates the following anecdote. He was probably -himself the interlocutor: “Dans la campagne de France, aux premiers -mois de 1814, Napoléon parlait à Troyes en Champagne, avec un de -ses généraux, de l’état des choses. ‘Les ennemis, disait celui-ci, -sont trop nombreux; il faut que la France se lève’--‘Eh! comment -voulez-vous que la France se lève, interrompit avec vivacité -Napoléon; il n’y a pas de noblesse, _et j’ai tué la liberté!_’” - -Of the love which the French people bore to Napoléon, let his -march to Cannes be a witness, where the inhabitants, as he passed, -surrounded him in hundreds of thousands with unmistakeable -demonstrations of blind enthusiasm and delight. Not even the -terrible conscription could rase his impression from their hearts. -The general equity of his internal administration, the exact system -of his public accounts, the effectual discharge of duty which he -required of the state servants, the abolition of idle privileged -classes, and the cessation of fraud in the management of the -revenue or its punishment when detected, caused the people to -love him as they everywhere love justice. Napoléon, with all his -other splendid faculties, was a skilful financier; he was opposed -to public loans, and left no debt. He had no private views, and -his active energies were unimpaired in his vassals’ service. The -utility of his public works was commensurate with their grandeur, -providing at once employment for the poor and embellishment for the -country. His Code was a monument of legislative wisdom, and his -Cadastre an invaluable equalizer and register of taxation and the -liabilities of property. But withal he was a detestable tyrant. - - - II. “Such stone immense as feigned Æolides - In Orcus tortured flung.” - -The epithet “feigned” is imitated from Milton’s treatment of -similar subjects. But Milton was not at all uniform in his -treatment; and therefore having paid this tribute to the truth of -Christianity and entered by this word my protest against the fables -of Polytheism, I do not think it necessary, any more than Milton -did, to be perpetually marring poetical effects by intimating -that comparisons are derived from fictitious subjects. Thus in -the finest book of _Paradise Lost_, the second, all the Greek and -Roman fables are introduced with excellent effect, and without any -intimation that they are apocryphal. Thus - - Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate, &c. - _P.L._ ii. 577. - - Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards - The ford. - _Ib._ ii. 611. - - ----The water flies - All taste of living wight, as once it fled - The lip of Tantalus. - _Ib._ ii. 612. - - A cry of Hell-hounds never-ceasing barked - With wide Cerberean mouths. - _Ib._ ii. 654. - - “It rolleth bounding with gigantic ease.” - - Καὶ μὴν Σίσυφον εἰσεῖδον, κρατέρ’ ἄλγε’ ἔχοντα, - Λᾶαν βαστάζοντα πελώριον ἀμφοτέρῃσιν· - Ἦτοι ὁ μὲν, σκηριπτόμενος χερσὶν τε ποσὶν τε. κ. τ. λ. - Hom. _Od._ xi. 592. - -The fine dactylic verse which follows, and which Dionysius of -Halicarnassus so highly commends, is wonderfully descriptive of the -bounding of a huge stone down a mountain:-- - - Αὖτις ἔπειτα πέδονδε κυλίνδετο λᾶας ἀναιδὴς. - Hom. _Od._ xi. 598. - -Notwithstanding the numerous and highly celebrated attempts of Pope -and Dryden at onomatopœiac effects in English iambic lines, I think -Thomson has surpassed them both in the following line from what -Byron justly pronounces one of the very finest poems in the English -language:-- - - “Down thunders back the stone with mighty sweep!” - _Castle of Indolence_, cant. i. - - - III. “Full many a rock’s Aiantine volume rolled.” - - Δεῦτερος αὖτ’ Αἴας πολύ μείζονα λᾶαν ἀείρας. - Hom. _Il._ vii. 268. - - “Their powerful hands this rude artillery hold.” - - Others with vast Typhœan rage more fell - Rend up both rocks and hills. - --Milt. _Par. Lost._ ii. 539. - -Typhœus was one of the Titans who warred against Heaven. - - - VII. “And charging through the valley shakes the field - With thunderous gallop.” - - Debaixo dos pés duros dos ardentes - Cavallos treme a terra, as valles soam. - Camóens, _Lus._ iv. 31. - - - VIII. “Our fiery squadrons. * * - They bathe their swords in blood at every bound.” - - Wolauf, ihr kecken streiter! - Wolauf, ihr deutschen reiter! - Wird euch das herz nicht warm? - Nehmt’s liebchen in den arm-- - Hurrah! - Körner, _Schwertlied_. - - Well up, ye fearless fighters! - Well-up, ye Saxon riders! - Oh, grows not each heart warm, - The loved one on his arm? - Hurrah! - - - IX. “Oh, generous, strong, and fleet are England’s steeds.” - - ὕμνον ὀρθώσας, ἀκαμαντοπόδων - ἵππων ἄωτον. - Pind. _Olymp._ iii. - -“I will hymn the praise of the flower of foot-weariless horses.” - - - XX. --“On each towering height - Seemed demons sprung with torches from their den.” - - --Auf den mondschein folgen trüber, - Dämm’rung schatten; wüstenthiere jagen aufgeschreckt vorüber. - Schnaubend bäumen sich die pferde; unser führer greift zur fahne; - Sie entsinkt ihm, und er murmelt: “Herr, die Geisterkaravane!” - _Freiligrath._ - -“After the moonshine follow the dark twilight-shades; the wild -animals fly past affrighted, the horses rear up snorting; our -leader clutches at the standard--it sinks from him, and he murmurs: -‘Lord, the ghostly-caravan!’” - - - XXI. “Refreshment needful cheered their bivouac.” - - Poichè de’ cibi il natural amore - Fú in lor ripresso e l’importuna sete. - Tasso, _Gerus. Lib._ xi. 17. - - - XXII. “But thickest mist doth fall, and leave our men at fault.” - -(Combat of Dona Maria.) “A thick fog prevented further pursuit, and -the loss of the French in the action is unknown.” - Napier, _Hist._ book xxi. c. 5. - - - XXIII. “Thus Menelaüs, while his brazen spear, &c.” - - Αὐτὰρ ὁ ἂψ ἐπόρουσε κατακτάμεναι μενεαίνων - Ἔγχεϊ χαλκείῳ· τὸν δ’ ἐξήρπαξ’ Ἀφροδίτη - Ῥεῖα μὰλ’, ὥστε θεός· ἐκάλυψε δ’ ἄρ’ ἠέρι πολλῇ· - Hom. _Il._ iii. 379. - -I trust it will not be deemed irreverent to observe, by way of -anticipative answer to any critic who in his wisdom may condemn -this Homeric allusion, that, as the _Deus ex machinâ_ is not -mine, I do not stand sponsor for Venus, and that the notion of a -Frenchman in a fog quite naturally suggested _Paris_. - - - XXVI. “Clambering Santa Cruz’s torrid steep.” - - --Gravis exustos æstus hiulcat agros. - Catul. lxvi. - - - XXXVI. ----“Friendship’s generous feud! - Where each desired that each the prize should hoard.” - - Ὦ λῆμ’ ἄριστον, ὡς ἀπ’ εὐγενοῦς τινος - Ῥίζης πέφυκας, τοῖς φίλοις τ’ ὀρθῶς φίλος. - Eurip. _Iph. in Taur._ 609. - -“Oh, excellent mind, from some noble root thou art sprung, for thou -art truly a friend to thy friend!” - - “Great Arthur gave each noble youth a sword.” - -The Duke of Wellington presented his sword to Sir Henry (now Lord) -Hardinge after the Battle of Waterloo. - - - XXXVIII. “And next to Heaven he loved his native land. - With Blanca there to fly when Spain was free,” &c. - -Mas el amor de la mujer y de la patria, pues como dicen: _de dó -eres, hombre?_ tiraron por mi.--Mendoza, _Lazarillo de Tormes_. - - - XLI. “Thy course for bale that might have been for bliss.” - - Then were I brought from bale to blisse, - No lenger wold I lye. - Romance of “Sir Cauline.” - - For now this day thou art my bale. - Romance of “Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne.” - - Jhesue Christ our balys bete - And to the blys us brynge! - The original “Chevy Chase.” - -The origin of the words “bliss” and “bless” is identical. - - - XLIII. “Scourge of the nations! thy appointed time - Is near its close--exhausted is thy quiver.” - -The certainty of the doom that awaits unjust violence is finely -expressed by Pindar:-- - - Βία δὲ καὶ μεγάλαυχον ἔσφα- - λεν ἐν χρόνῳ. Τυφὼς Κίλιξ ἑκατόγκρα- - νος οὔ μιν ἄλυξεν, - ὀυδὲ μὰν βασιλεὺς Γιγάντων. - Δμᾶθεν δὲ κεραυνῷ, - τόξοισί τ’ ἀπόλλωνος. - _Pyth._ viii. - -“But Violence mineth the proud in time. Cilician Typhos with his -hundred heads escaped not its effects, nor the King of the Giants -himself. They were slain by the thunder (of Jove) and the shafts of -Apollo!” The “King of the Giants” is Porphyrion, who carried off the -herd of Hercules, and appears to have originated the plan to scale -Olympus. Typhos is better known by the names Typhon and Typhœus. -Pindar is perpetually alluding to the combats of the Titans, and -they impart a matchless sublimity to his poetry, which in this -quality surpasses Homer. - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto IV. - - -I. - - There is one earthly Love, and one alone, - Which free from penalty all, all may share; - A passion pure, sublime, of loftiest tone, - In whose proud service Man may blameless dare - All that the heart inspires which scorns to wear - A chain--’tis Love of Country! This the power - That levels all distinctions--’midst despair - Upraising prostrate nations to a tower,-- - The flame that kindles men to Gods in peril’s hour! - - -II. - - Who’s noble? He that bears a scutcheon? He - Whose lineage can be traced to mailéd Knights, - That with the Bastard came from Normandy? - He that in lacqueys and in hounds delights? - Whose fathers jousted in Plantagenet fights?-- - Have not all battled with the roaring Flood? - Noble is he who honours, Man, thy rights, - Sustains thy dignity, is truthful, good; - Kings have I known more base than bondsman e’er hath stood! - - -III. - - Hath not the humblest hands, eyes, feeling, thought - Like your’s, strength, weakness, tears and laughter’s dower? - The bruted serf hath Poland’s serfdom wrought; - For when to strike for Freedom comes the hour, - He strikes his lords! At home let Tyrants cower - In field, or factory, mountain, mine, or glen. - Where’er the weak are crushed by ruffian power, - Where’er the poor are slighted, where the pen - Can reach Oppression, there shall pierce the rights of Men! - - -IV. - - And Labour shall have Justice. Peasant arms, - The implements of peace or war that wield, - Shall not, of Fame defrauded and its charms, - Of Right be too defrauded and the shield - Of Liberty! In ploughed or battle field, - His hire shall be the guerdon, not the mite - Flung by proud scorn! His wrongs shall yet be healed. - Who Badajoz, Ciudád, Sebastian’s height - Could scale shall have his share of glory and of right! - - -V. - - What were thy mural crowns, bellipotent Rome, - Thy gold-beat turrets for the daring head, - Thy vallar circlets given for mounted dome - And rampart, wreaths obsidional that shed - Their grass-green light than gold more coveted? - What thy triumphal bays for glory’s brow, - Thy oval myrtle where no Roman bled, - Thy civic garland of the oaken bough? - Their sound one City filled--the World beholds us now! - - -VI. - - Not Spain, not Spain doth tamely bear the yoke, - Her sturdy peasants the Guerrillas swell, - And, see, where gather ’neath Guerníca’s oak - Her passionate sons to list the tuneful shell - Which ’neath its shade a maiden strikes so well. - One hand alone the loud guitarra wakes - So potently: ’tis Blanca gives the spell! - Through every pause the Basque pandéro breaks, - And Blanca thus i’ th’ crowd each nerve and fibre shakes:-- - - -VII. - - “Biscayan bondsmen!--for ’tis bonds ye wear, - While stalks the proud invader o’er your soil; - Methinks, ’tis said Cantabrian blood ye share, - Methinks, ’tis said that vain was Roman toil - To bend your stubborn hearts within its coil! - But this, forsooth, was thousand years ago. - Were your’s Cantabrian blood, ’twould surely boil, - To see Cantabria’s glory laid so low. - Why yes, the Frenchman, sure, excels the Roman foe! - - -VIII. - - “Biscayan bondsmen! patience is your cure - For all their slights and scoffs--by Heaven’s behest. - Lives there a bustard on your hills to endure - A foreign vulture in its cuckoo nest? - Perchance your nests are warmer--ye know best! - Not bustards dwell upon each mountain peak, - But royal eagles none may dare molest, - For piercing are their talons, sharp their beak-- - ’Tis Biscay’s men alone are pliable and meek! - - -IX. - - “’Tis said and sung--but History doubtless lies-- - That great Fernando here and Isabel, - Beneath this aged oak, these mountain skies, - Swore to maintain Biscaya’s rights full well. - ’Tis said that those who lived where now ye dwell-- - I did not say your fathers--with their swords - Won and preserved their fuéros from the fell - Assaults of native tyrants--idle words! - Ye know the fuéros melt i’ th’ breath of foreign lords. - - -X. - - “’Tis said Biscaya’s lawgivers of old - Beneath this venerable Druid shade, - Ancestral lord, and priest, and peasant bold, - Met in due time and firmest fuéros made. - ’Tis said--but chronicling’s a lying trade-- - That hearts of oak beneath this oak did meet - To guard the old Basque freedom. Undecayed - The oak is still, and hark what voices sweet, - As from Dodona’s, bid the Basque his deeds repeat! - - -XI. - - “’Tis said this Spanish soil once men did rear, - Whom Rome and Carthage trembled to oppose. - Sagunthus, and Numance, and Bilbil here - Terrific bulwarks in their pathway rose, - Ere yielding crushed by self-destroying blows! - ’Tis said Viriatus the Guerrilla storm - Poured from the mountains first ’gainst Roman foes, - And Sylla and Pompey smote Sertorius warm, - Till treachery triumphed. Gaul’s complacent slaves _ye_ form! - - -XII. - - “’Tis said Bernardo with resistless lance - At Roncesvalles Roland’s prowess crushed, - When Carlomain for this same haughty France - Claimed Leon’s crown, and down Pyrene rushed. - There Roland’s blood with many a Peer’s, too, gushed! - ’Tis said that more than this e’en Spaniards did, - When bold Ruy Diaz on Bavieca, flushed - With victory, led the Oca hills amid - Five Moorish Kings who long paid tribute to the Cid! - - -XIII. - - “I see the warrior-boy on gallant steed - Spur to the battle proudly o’er the plain, - His eye resolved to make the Moslem bleed,-- - His bounding bosom scorns to wear a chain! - His lance in rest, his armour without stain, - He panteth for the mêlée hand to hand; - Enough his guerdon that he strikes for Spain. - Wo to the hostile ranks that dare to stand - Before that fiery Chief’s dread lance and lightning brand! - - -XIV. - - “Such Spaniards were--in days long past away-- - Who drove the Invader forth, nor asked for aid. - I need not speak what Spaniards are to-day. - Oh, let not Britons thus the Basque o’ershade. - At least be drawn Bilbáo’s trusty blade!”-- - Flushed many a cheek, “_Las armas!_” was the cry. - With hasty-buckled swords the high-souled maid, - And firelocks true, soon saw them gathering nigh, - And ’neath the sacred oak flashed many a warlike eye: - - -The Gathering. - - “These be my countrymen (she said); - Spain, thy spirit is not dead! - When the kite shall grasp the thunder, - France shall bring thy spirit under; - When upheaved is Roncesvalles, - France shall hold Alphonso’s palace. - When forgotten is Pavía, - When unwrit her annals all, - Then shall Spain consent to be a - Province for the Gaul! - Hoist the standard - Of Hesperia; - Ne’er hath pandered - Celtiberia! - Greatly dare, - Till free as air; - Firm as rock, - Withstand the shock! - Now when babes untimely perish, - Like old Basques strew pure white roses; - Freedom’s flame now, now ye cherish-- - ’Tis no infant slave reposes! - The pride of arms, - And Freedom’s charms, - Have spurred each soul - For Glory’s goal; - My countrymen, to-day ye make your sister proud. - The Invader may come; - Hark, hark to his drum, - And the hoofs of his chargers clattering loud! - See, see where the dust, - Like a storm-gathered gust, - Rolls over the plain, - As he gallops amain; - Now stand, brothers brave, and be true to your trust! - When upheaved is Roncesvalles, - When the kite shall grasp the thunder, - France shall hold Alphonso’s palace, - France shall bring thy spirit under! - When dishonours Vascongada - Fernan’s triumph at Granada, - When forgotten is Pavía, - When unwrit her annals all, - Then shall Spain consent to be a - Province for the Gaul! - - -XV. - - On came the French light horse--a forage troop-- - And dashed impetuous to the ancient square, - Deeming to spoil the town with vulture swoop, - But Blanca’s voice had been before them there! - Beneath the oak the patriot phalanx fair - With volley close receives the deadly shock. - Though trodden down, none yields him to despair, - But light-armed footmen horse and rider mock. - France oft the charge renews; Biscaya stands--a rock! - - -XVI. - - Fiercest amongst the hussars rode Jules, whose friend - Blanca erewhile had with his carbine smote; - He spied her ’neath the oak, and burnt to end - The maid who foiled him in her lightsome boat. - But by her side there stands a youth of note-- - Don Carlos named--her father too is nigh. - Stout they received him Carlos--at his throat - Sprang with good sword; and fiery sparkles fly - From blades with master-hand they both wield manfully. - - -XVII. - - But Blanca’s sire with dexterous weapon cut - The Frenchman’s rein, and pricked his foaming steed. - Unchecked, the charger instant wheeled about, - And from the battle fled at utmost speed, - The bridle Jules deserting in his need. - Shouted the enraged hussar, and spurred, and cursed, - But faster flew the horse from guidance freed. - The troop soon followed--of the fray the worst - Was theirs--and from the Basques the cheer of victory burst. - - -XVIII. - - No tongue may tell the transport of delight, - That hailed this triumph of their patriot arms. - A troop from fair Guerníca marched ere night - For San Sebastian, amid War’s alarms - To prove the spirit which the Vascon warms. - And Blanca and her blithe barqueras rowed - Once more to aid the siege with Hebe charms, - While Carlos to whose arm she safety owed - Her shallop bore to San Sebastian, his abode:-- - - -XIX. - - “Now thus,” she said, “to Isidora speak,-- - Though noblest maid, my foster-sister dear-- - Tell her my tongue to express my love is weak, - And this memorial wet with many a tear. - For dire to think how oft I am so near, - But she within and I without the wall - Beleaguered;--you, Don Carlos, need not fear - To enter seaward, but the haughty Gaul - ’Gainst Basque barquera soon would hurl the vengeful ball.” - - -XX. - - Then from her beauteous breast the maid drew forth - A silken banneret of pigmy size, - Yet truly figuring--thence was all its worth-- - The standard proud of Spain, whose castles rise - With lions rampant to the gazer’s eyes. - And in the centre, broidered all blood-red - Showed the French eagle--arrow-pierced he lies, - Gasping in death, the plumes rent from his head: - “Give this to Isidor,” at parting, “this,” she said. - - -XXI. - - Dark was the night--the horizon pitchy black, - As Carlos with the pass-word reached the town, - And joyous strolled, while War’s dread fire was slack, - With lovely Isidor the rampart down. - More deep ’neath starry pall ne’er fell Night’s frown, - Nor sank repose on Nature and on man. - But hark the rattling musketry, see crown - Each sharp discharge its flash--ere death brief span. - Homeward, poor maiden lorn, sweet Isidora ran! - - -XXII. - - ’Twas gallant Rey, who made a night-sortie-- - Last effort tried ere come the dire assault. - Our piquets on the Isthmus slaughtered see, - Ta’en by surprise or ere they can cry Halt! - Loud rose the Frenchmen’s _En avant!_ At fault, - Our sentries for a time unaided bleed, - The deadly death-tubes rending the black vault; - But soon a furious contest raged indeed-- - Our startled piquets rush, their firelocks flash with speed. - - -XXIII. - - Yet onward the French column densely moved, - Our careful hewn intrenchments filling fast. - Down went banquette and parapet; and proved - Fascine and gabion feeble in the blast. - Soon, as o’er level ground, the trench they passed - While fierce artillery from the rampart roared. - Incessant flashes momentary cast - Made tenfold darkness when their stream was poured, - And shells in beauteous curves of light through æther soared. - - -XXIV. - - But saw great Arthur from the Chofre hills, - And while Graham hurled against the rampart’s height - A fierce reply which all the welkin fills, - Sent our bold columns rapid to the fight. - Morton with joy, and Nial with delight, - The summons heard, and dashing with their men - Plunged through the fitful blazing gloom of night. - Hot was the fire of skirmishers, which then - Maintained on either side bewildered Lyncean ken. - - -XXV. - - For soon so mixed amid the pitchy gloom - Were friend and foe, save when the cannon flashed - To send grim death rimbombing from its womb, - That friend smote friend, and indiscriminate dashed - They on, by that dread peril unabashed. - Hundreds were in the trenches headlong flung, - And bayonets high o’er head and under clashed. - So desperate to their ground the assailants clung, - It seemed as Victory long i’ th’ balance doubtful hung. - - -XXVI. - - And, lo, where ’mid the carnage dire and wide, - Rise rapid fireballs from the citadel, - Whose lurid glare is, sure, to Hell allied, - With strong blue light the darkness to dispel; - And some on the fascines around them fell, - Which fiercely burnt, diffusing terror new - For but an instant. Each his foe can tell, - And musketry now blazes full in view, - Till heaps of corses soon both mound and trenches strew. - - -XXVII. - - By that dread blaze upon the topmost height - A young French chieftain coped with Morton’s sword; - Their clashing blades upon the brow of night - Threw clustering sparkles swift as Brontes poured - ’Gainst Steropes whilst Ætna’s forges roared; - And round and round they leapt to every stroke, - And with good will each point of fence explored. - But Morton’s firmer hand his guard soon broke; - The Gaulish chief disarmed the word “Surrender” spoke. - - -XXVIII. - - And Nial coped with yet a hardier chief, - Whose practised valour and whose sinewy arm - Gave little hope, I ween, of victory brief, - Yet joy inspired to Nial, not alarm. - Terrific was their sword play, like the charm - Of deadly basilisk to lure the eye; - And many a pass was parried without harm, - And many a sweep and many a thrust put by, - Till Nial’s foe at last i’ th’ trench doth silent lie. - - -XXIX. - - The Gaulish column while the deed dismayed, - New daring to the British line it gave. - Their rattling musketry more vigorous played, - And clouds of smoke arose with curling wave - O’erarching all the arena of the brave. - Nor yet the fireballs ceased to light the war, - Nor yet the grape to fall where none could save - Or life or limb, nor yet to roar from far - The cannon dire and bombs that burst through every bar. - - -XXX. - - And ’mid this jar confused of noises dire, - And shouts of living soldiers fierce and fell, - The piercing shrieks of wounded men rose higher - Through groans of dying strewn by shot and shell; - And of the fire balls from the citadel - Some lit amongst the helpless wounded, bringing - New pangs where agony too much doth dwell. - See crawling through the blaze, or nervous springing, - The maimed from where blue fire its lurid glare is flinging! - - -XXXI. - - But faint before the valour of our men - Grew Gaulish daring, though they bravely fought; - And when they showed irresolute, ’twas then - Our Britons to the charge the bayonet brought. - With shout appalling in their souls they wrought - Such fear as aided well our glancing steel - And firm advance. In flight they safety sought, - Yet less in terror’s coil, than vain to feel - The assault that hath prepared with Britain’s sons to deal. - - -XXXII. - - Now free once more our deep intrenchments stood, - Save of the heaps of slain and battle’s track, - And many a broken blade and pool of blood, - Which by to-morrow’s dawn shall find no lack - Of zeal to clear, and bring to smoothness back. - The dead shall find a soldier’s simple grave, - The wounded healing care though pain should rack, - With Fame’s requital; and where past the wave - Of War, each trench renewed again shall shield the brave. - - -XXXIII. - - Within the town the lovely Isidor - Shuddered with fear at every cannon’s boom. - As fell upon her ear the horrid roar, - She deemed it sounded like the crack of doom, - And on her knees within her furthest room - Before an image of the Virgin prayed - That Heaven might turn their hearts, and Pity’s womb - Bring forth Pacification--sore afraid - To see man slaughter man in God’s own image made. - - -XXXIV. - - But Blanca in the sound and sight rejoiced, - Which ever told of liberty to Spain, - And soon she hoped to see the standard hoist - Sublime on San Sebastian’s towers again-- - The rampant lions spurning Gallic chain! - And as the shells arose, the fireballs flew, - She rowed along the bosom of the main - Beneath the wall, as danger she would woo, - Yet shuddered too at times--for Morton there she knew. - - -XXXV. - - Oh, marvellous variety of minds! - Oh, Nature’s handiwork of subtile shades! - From the same breast the stream to life that binds - In foster-sisterhood drew both these maids. - Yet one with gentlest bosom shrinks and fades - Before the peril which doth rouse the other; - One sickens, one rejoys at clashing blades. - Ah, Blanca, Blanca, learn that joy to smother, - For steel doth smite e’en now who loves thee like a mother! - - -XXXVI. - - Still darkness palled the earth, when round the home - Of Blanca’s father, near Zumaya’s green, - The French hussars who fled Guerníca from, - Arrayed in treacherous descent were seen; - For Jules thus thought to wreak his vengeful spleen - At once upon the maiden and her sire. - His comrades called him Jules _L’Enfer_--I ween, - Befitting name. More daring or more dire - In the French host was none, or rife with demon fire. - - -XXXVII. - - The vine-clad porch, where Jules erewhile had seized - Fair Blanca while his comrade Ana prest, - Was entered soon--the stubborn door, well pleased, - They battered with their carbines piecemeal--blest - Effects of War, that turns the human breast - To tiger fierceness! Pablo leapt from bed, - Where soon disturbed his lonely widowed rest. - The hussars rushed in by pale light faintly shed - From dim night-taper, when thus Jules ferocious said:-- - - -XXXVIII. - - “Where be thy daughters--yield them to our arms, - “This instant yield them--buxom maids be they; - “Buxom and fierce--the soldier’s spiciest charms - “In woman. _L’Espingarda_ fires, I say, - “With aim that like a tirailleur’s can slay. - “’Twas with my carbine she my comrade smote. - “Now will I rifle her--she’ll now obey - “My wishes, while I grasp her soft, white throat. - “_Dame!_ a French bastard soon her tapering waist shall bloat!” - - -XXXIX. - - Terrific Pablo’s triumph as he cried:-- - “No, ruffians, no; thank Heaven, they are not your’s, - “My daughters! ’Tis God’s hand, to crush your pride, - “To San Sebastian hath removed the lures - “That brought ye hither, worse than Godless Moors!” - “Ha, say you so?” quoth Jules, “_pardieu_, ’tis he, - “The same who ’neath the oak, ’mongst Vascon boors, - “My bridle cut and made my steed to flee. - “Dog! with those eyes to do the like no more thou’lt see!” - - -XL. - - Then on the bed he prest the old man down; - With sinewy knee upon his breast he lies, - His struggles stifling with terrific frown, - And with his sword-point blinded both his eyes! - Dire were the wounds he made, and crimson flies - The warm blood forth, yet save some groans of pain, - Which spoke poor Pablo’s natural agonies, - Nor shriek nor cry drew forth this deed of Cain, - For Blanca’s sire no weak faintheartedness could stain! - - -XLI. - - Then bound the villain both his hands and feet, - And while its master helpless nought did say, - Ransacked the house for all of wine or meat, - Or forage that within its precincts lay, - And thus caroused till near the break of day, - When all with wine o’ercome the troopers flung - Their lengths upon the floor at dawning grey, - As weary Bacchants with whose orgies rung - Ismenian heights at morn reposed with lolling tongue. - - -XLII. - - Long Pablo heard their movements with disgust, - Till silence broke but by repletion’s snore - Convinced the sightless man that Heaven is just, - And with excitement fierce his bonds he tore. - Trembling with rage, he stood upon the floor - An instant, then drew forth a dagger keen, - And groped his blind way through the chamber-door. - From sleeping form to form he passed, I ween - With preternatural touch as true as each were seen! - - -XLIII. - - Jules he hath found! A scar upon his face - The trooper gives to his revenge at last. - With gentlest finger he the seam doth trace - Along his cheek, till doubt to surety past. - A ghastly smile then Pablo’s features cast, - All grim and gory ’neath his butchered eyes! - His finger’s point to where the heart beat fast - Unerring moved--supine the monster lies-- - Beneath blind Pablo’s blade heart-pierced he instant dies! - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO IV. - - -The gathering under the oak of Guernica, the onset of the French -light horse, and the resistance of the peasantry, described in this -Canto, are incidents which, although imagined, are characteristic -of this heroic struggle at various periods. The part here played -by Blanca was not uncommon during the Peninsular War, enthusiast -emissaries having made their appearance in various quarters, -preaching the crusade against the French. They literally preached, -or harangued the people in public places. I met an Englishman -in the Peninsula who had figured in that capacity. Women, too, -undertook the same service, which amongst an excitable Southern -people was found to be most potential. The appearance of the fair -sex in this character was chiefly after the siege of Zaragoza, -when the renown won by Manuela Sanchez caused heroines to spring -up in several places, who wore for the most part a half-military -attire. Blanca’s use of the guitar is strictly in character, for -the talent of the _improvvisatore_ is pretty general in Spain, -the language readily adapting itself to extemporaneous recitation -in verse, and the ardent temperament of the nation favouring a -rapid exercise of the imagination. The Basque drum or _pandero_, -and the _gaita_ or bagpipe, belong to this district. The Oak of -Guernica, beneath which I make Blanca rhapsodize, was one of the -most venerable natural monuments in Spain. Here the Biscayan -legislators, hidalgos and peasants, periodically assembled, and -here Ferdinand and Isabella in 1476 swore to maintain the _fueros_, -or ancient rights and privileges of the people. Wordsworth has a -sonnet on the subject; but unhappily his “tree of holier power” was -cut down by the French. An oak sapling was, however, planted under -the protection of the English army to replace it. - -The idea of the night-sortie in this canto is taken from the -following passage in Napier:--“In the night of the 27th, about 3 -o’clock, the French sallied against the new battery on the isthmus; -but as Col. Cameron of the ninth regiment met them on the very -edge of the trenches with the bayonet, the attempt failed, yet it -delayed the arming of the battery.” (_Hist. War in the Penins._ -xxii. 1.) I have made honourable mention of Cameron’s achievement -in my first canto, but without specifying that the sortie took -place by night. The attack in the real incident was so speedily -repelled that it afforded no room for poetical description. I have -therefore worked up separately here the idea of a sortie with the -numerous picturesque additions incident to its occurrence by night, -and have taken some of these incidents from the sortie which took -place from Bayonne, then invested by Sir John Hope, on the night of -the 13th April 1814--three days after the Battle of Toulouse--being -therefore the last event of the Peninsular War, in which Sir John -Hope was made prisoner, and great loss of life occurred owing -to the French governor’s incredulity as to the abdication of -Napoléon. It is described in Napier’s last chapter but one, and -still more minutely in Capt. Batty’s _Campaign of the Left Wing -of the Allied Army_, &c. Though Sir Thomas Graham was intrusted -with the conduct of the siege of San Sebastian, and though at the -period of the assault Wellington was engaged with the allies, as -described in a succeeding canto, at some distance from the town, I -am warranted in making him superintend the defence of this sortie, -he having visited the works frequently during their progress, and -having actually visited them on the day (the 28th August) on which -this sortie took place. The present is almost the only instance -throughout the poem, where there is exaggeration of the actual -amount of fighting and its consequences. - -The French in desolating the fields of Spain, and sweeping off -their sheep and cattle by thousands, professed that they did it -for the people’s good, treating them, doubtless, as Sir Thomas -More makes the Utopians treat their useless members in his Happy -Republic: “Wrought on by these persuasions, they do either starve -themselves of their own accord, or they take opium, and so they -die without pain.” (_Utopia_, book ii.) According to Hobbes’s -philosophy, this could be doing them no injury, “for he who -consents to any thing, cannot consider himself injured.” (_De -Cive._ 1. i. c. iii.) This voluntarily inflicted suicide Bishop -Burnet in his preface more justly characterises as “a rough -and fierce philosophy.” Still fiercer was the “philosophy” of -Republican France. - - - V. “What were thy mural crowns, bellipotent Rome?” - -The _corona muralis_ was a crown of gold, bearing some resemblance -to an ancient wall with turrets, given to him who first scaled -the walls of a city in an assault. The _corona castrensis_ sive -_vallaris_ was a crown given to the soldier who first mounted a -rampart, or invaded the enemy’s camp. The _corona obsidionalis_ -(Livy) was a crown composed of the grass which grew in a besieged -place, and presented to the general who raised a siege. This was -deemed one of the highest military honours. Thomasius says that it -was likewise given “to a captain that razed a fort.” The _corona -triumphalis_, originally of laurel and in after ages of gold, was -worn by those generals who had received the honour of a triumph. -On its being sent to the general, it insured him the triumph on -his return, and he immediately obtained the title _imperator_, -which he retained till his triumphal entry. The _corona ovalis_ -sive _myrtea_ (Aulus Gellius) was given to a general for a victory -without slaughter of men. The _corona civica_, the highest of all -these rewards, was composed of oaken boughs, and given to him who -had saved the life of a Roman citizen. - - - VI. “Not Spain, not Spain doth tamely bear the yoke.” - - Levanta, España! tu famosa diestra - Desde el Frances Pirene al Moro Atlante, - Y al ronco son de trompas belicosas, - Haz embuelta en durisimo diamante - De tus valientes hijos feroz muestra, - Debaxo de tus señas vitoriosas. - Luis de Gongora. - - - XI. “Sagunthus and Numance and Bilbil here.” - -The cities of Saguntum and Numantia have been heretofore -specified. Bilbilis is the modern Bilbao, capital of the province -of Biscay. For a sketch of the ancient heroism of Cantabria, -corresponding with the modern Vascongadas or Basque Provinces, see -the Introduction. For an account of the exploits of Viriatus and -Sertorius see Livy and Ferguson’s _Roman Republic_. - - “Now when babes untimely perish - Like old Basques strew pure white roses.” - -This ancient custom has been made by Wordsworth the subject of two -sonnets, in the second of which occur the following fine lines:-- - - A garland fashioned of the pure white rose - Becomes not one whose father is a slave! - - - XVIII. “A troop from fair Guernica marched ere night.” - - Tambem movem da guerra as negras furias - A gente Biscainha, que carece - De polidas razoens, e que as injurias - Muito mal dos estranhos compadece. - A terra de Guipuscoa, e das Asturias, &c. - Camóens, _Lus._ iv. 11. - - - XXIV. “Sent our bold columns rapid to the fight. - Morton with joy, and Nial with delight - The summons heard.” - - Ἐν γὰρ χερσὶ τέλος πολέμου, ἐπέων δ’ ἐνὶ βουλῇ· - Τῷ, οὔτι χρὴ μῦθον ὀφέλλειν, ἀλλὰ μάχεσθαι. - Hom. _Il._ xvi. 630. - -“For the end of war is in hands, but of words in council; -wherefore, let us not multiply words, but fight!” The dog who barks -loudest is least inclined to bite, or, as the German proverb has -it: “Die grossen marterhausen sind nicht die besten kriegsleut.” I -may add here Suidas’s excellent derivation of Arês Ἄρης, the Greek -name of Mars--from α, _non_, and ῥέειν, _dicere_, because in war -not words but blows are needed. - - - XXV. “--Save when the cannon flashed - To send grim death rimbombing from its womb.” - -The word _rimbombar_, signifying “to resound terrifically,” -especially as applied to thunder and discharges of artillery, is -a very forcible specimen of onomatopœia, and is common to the -Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese; I have therefore ventured to -adopt it into the English language. Tasso uses the word with fine -effect in one of his most celebrated passages:-- - - Treman le spaziose atre caverne, - E l’aer cieco a quel romor rimbomba. - _Ger. Lib._ iv. 3. - - - XXVII. “Threw clustering sparkles swift as Brontes poured - ’Gainst Steropes whilst Ætna’s forges roared.” - - Antra Ætnæa tonant, validique incudibus ictus.... - Ferrum exercebant vasto Cyclopes in antro, - Brontesque, Steropesque, et nudus membra Pyracmon. - Virg. _Æn._ viii. 419. - -Virgil’s treatment of his subject, the forging of the armour of -Æneas, presents a curious contrast to Homer’s treatment of the -forging of the armour of Achilles. Vulcan is the agent in both -cases, but in the simple patriarchal era of Homer he is made to -do it all himself, with the assistance only of “twenty pairs of -bellows:”-- - - Φῦσαι δ’ ἐν χοάνοισιν ἐείκοσι πᾶσαι ἐφύσων. - -The more refined contemporary of Augustus makes the Cyclops perform -the porters’ work, and Vulcan merely look on. - - - XXXIV. “The rampant lions spurning Gallic chain!” - - “Publica” respondit, “cura est pro mœnibus istis” - Juppiter: et pœnas Gallia victa dabit. - Ovid. _Fast._ vi. 377. - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto V. - - -I. - - Oh human hearts, that nurture fond designs, - While shattering Fate his iron moulds doth fill! - Oh, loving breasts unwarned by direst signs, - The present joy-burst blindly hugging still! - Impregnable redoubt of Human Will! - Less strong than thine is San Sebastian’s wall. - The ruin-clinging ivy Time can kill, - But not avert thy worship from its thrall, - Till comes the destined hour, and instant bids thee fall! - - -II. - - In summer skies I saw serenely bright - Creation smile o’er pastoral cottage fair. - Effulgent glory dwelt in loveliest light - On copse and garden, hedge and homestead there. - It seemed as exiled from that spot was Care! - Sudden a cloud o’ergathering, fringed with red, - Burst in black thunder bellowing through the air. - A hissing bolt its flame terrific sped; - The cottage ruined lay--its peaceful inmates dead! - - -III. - - Not fairer Hella on the Ægean flood - With her young brother sate the golden fleece, - Than Blanca steered her bark when Morton stood - Within its round, ’mid war discovering peace, - And from his eyes drank love-light without cease; - Nor with more grief was Athamantis torn, - When sank her lovely form ’twixt sunny Greece - And blue Propontis, than made Blanca mourn, - When Morton owned his gage to join the Hope Forlorn. - - -IV. - - “Ah, do not go! _Mi Dios_, thou wilt not go! - “Guillermo, thou wouldst kill thy Blanca. Death - “Is there nigh certain.” William smiled: “Why no, - “Not certain quite. Sweet Blanca, I’ll have breath - “To kiss thee on my return. Why sorroweth - “My love so soon, that was so brave erewhile?”-- - “I care not for myself but thee, for saith - “The general voice, tis fatal.”--“See, I smile”-- - “Oh God, if aught befal thee, Death may light his pile.” - - -V. - - A trumpet sounded. “’Tis the summons--hark,” - Quoth William. Blanca straight grew lily-pale. - He kist her thrice, then leapt from out the bark. - “Fear not,” he said. “To-morrow without fail - “We meet,” then flew with heart unused to quail. - But Blanca motionless remained behind, - Like calmed Feluca which the dying gale - Hath quite forsook. Oh, Love had tamed her mind, - And pride and patriot thoughts _for him_ were idle wind! - - -VI. - - Now battle’s roar which she had learnt to love, - Or strove to love for liberty to Spain, - Fell on her ear with horror, as the dove - By cry of falcon is transfixed with pain; - And still she numbered William ’mongst the slain, - And every cannon with terrific boom - That maid so bold before made shake amain, - As were his breast the target. Rolled the drum; - “We meet to-morrow.” Ah, that morrow ne’er may come! - - -VII. - - Dire was the chill that fell on Blanca’s soul, - And oft she sighed for Isidora’s ear, - To pour her woes and hear those lips console-- - Her foster-sister more than sister dear! - But Isidora’s lot was e’en more drear, - For none might dare from San Sebastian pass; - And shivering from each cannon’s shock with fear, - She longed by Blanca’s side--’twas vain, alas! - To pluck the summer-flowers, and brush the dewy grass, - - -VIII. - - Dark fell the night like thickest, deadliest pall - On Blanca’s bosom fluttering nigh to swoon; - But while she drained her bitterest cup of gall, - O’er fair Biscaya’s bay arose the Moon - In wondrous beauty, and dispelled full soon - Her gloom by enchantment. So serenely bright, - It seemed as ’twere from Heaven a special boon, - And Blanche with tears invoked the Virgin’s might, - And deemed she saw her form within that orb of light! - - -IX. - - A cherry-coloured riband from her head, - Which used to bind and float beneath her hair, - With trembling hand she loosed, and o’er it spread - A golden curl of William’s, tied it there - In fashion of a cross, and with this prayer - Consigned it to her bosom: “Empress-Queen - “Of Heaven, Immaculate Virgin! Spare, oh, spare - “His life. _Mi Madre_, on Isaro’s green - “Thy shrine shall have a crown as fair as e’er was seen.” - - -X. - - At length the foeman’s guns are nearly mute, - The hour doth come for the terrific shock. - Where thou hast sown, Britannia, pluck the fruit; - Sebastian hoary, tremble on thy rock! - With false assault the gallant Rey to mock, - And haply make the veteran spring his mines - (Oh, perilous emprize, where Death will lock - With icy arms the form that fairest shines) - Leap forth a dauntless score of warriors from the lines. - - -XI. - - Oh England! great thy glory, great the love - Thy children bear thee, when to certain death, - Or death nigh certain, dauntlessly they move, - Condensed in shouts for thee their parting breath! - ’Tis not one Curce or Ion gloryeth - Thy history to record, one Mutius fierce, - One Regulus self-devoted. Hundreds hath - Each fleet and army, prompt for thee to pierce - Their panting breasts, and choose for bridal bed a hearse! - - -XII. - - Young Nial forward flies with impulse dire-- - Of these heroic warriors he the head; - They gain the breach--they mount--they shout--they fire, - Their shouts are drowned in showers of answering lead; - But still unsprung the mines, nor terror fed - A valour calm as sleeps the Ocean near. - Vain is the assault, and stretched full soon lie dead - All who so late upraised that gallant cheer-- - All save their leader bold who stalks the trenches near. - - -XIII. - - The hour is come! Breaks heavily the morn - From densest misty shroud. Great Arthur calls - For nigh a thousand hearts that danger scorn - To rush like Ocean-surge against the walls, - And swarm where thickest fly the deadly balls: - “Men who can show what ’tis to mount a breach.” - That voice inspires with valour where it falls; - A thousand men leap forward--heroes each-- - With arms to pluck the prize where Romans dare not reach! - - -XIV. - - And winnowed must be Valour’s chosen grain, - Where headlong to a shroud or victory borne, - All brave alike the peril proud disdain, - Yet culled the chosen for a Hope Forlorn! - Mark the doomed band whose plumes seem loftier worn, - Whose cheeks more red for courted wounds and death. - Oh, many a mother’s breast shall soon be torn, - And widowed spouse and sister gasp for breath, - Nigh perishing for them whose requiem Glory saith! - - -XV. - - Hark to the muffled tread, where stealing slow - Adown the trenches musters their array, - While rank on rank in many a bristling row - Is gathering stern as dimly grows the day, - Nor from yon level sun a beam can stray! - The army’s hum, the awakening city’s din, - The dusky masses gilded by no ray, - But dim with curling vapours, ere begin - The cannon’s roar, make each more doubtful who shall win. - - -XVI. - - A moment now the bravest pause in awe, - ’Twixt life and death. Next moment--direful clash! - Opens in thunder every dragon-maw - Of fierce artillery with its lightning-flash. - As cleaves Heaven’s thunderbolt the mountain ash, - So hurled in ruins is the battlement. - While Furies with that scourge its granite lash, - Not adamant, I ween, were long unbent, - And wider grows the breach and easier of ascent. - - -XVII. - - Within the trenches many an eager eye - With fevered gaze doth watch the sinking tide, - Whose ebb will give to conquer or to die-- - Oh, cruel use of Man’s unerring guide, - Which Nature’s hand hath stretched so fair and wide, - The throbbing pulse of Ocean! Father Time - Seems heavily on leaden wing to ride, - And hours seem days, and hour-like minutes climb - I’ the anxious nervous pause of that suspense sublime. - - -XVIII. - - And words are few and brief. It seemeth waste - Of breath in idle converse to dilate, - When hundreds momently to Judgment haste;-- - And sight usurps all functions! Mouths of Fate - Prophetic line the wall, where batteries wait - The onset, slowly turned the breach to flank, - And bayonets bristle ’neath the parapet, - _For them_ prepared! The heart’s of interest blank, - That hath not waited thus in Battle’s foremost rank. - - -XIX. - - The hour is come! The signal, “On, men, on!” - Sends from the trenches hundreds tow’rds the town. - Like greyhounds straining on the slips, they are gone, - While grape and shell in showers come pouring down, - To where the grisly bastion-breach doth frown. - Away, away, o’er slippery tidal shore, - O’er seaweed dank and shell-incrusted stone. - None stoops to pick, though strewn the seabeach o’er, - Save those whom other shells make stoop to rise no more! - - -XX. - - Loud, louder still the batteries poured their fire, - And softer rippled wavelets o’er the strand. - ’Twixt Man and Nature, oh, what contrast dire! - The clattering death-tubes scarce a zephyr fanned. - Is Ocean awed to silence by the land, - Or is’t amazed at human hate and rage? - The eye ferocious, and the red right hand - That writes its name renowned in History’s page? - Nature, I ween, is shocked, and beasts themselves more sage! - - -XXI. - - Ah better far on Albion’s soil to tread - The verdurous meadow or the breezy hill, - For peaceful toil or sportful wandering spread, - In pastoral loveliness unrivalled still; - Where blend sweet lane and slope with murmuring rill, - Hedgerow, and vocal grove, and village green, - And gardens fair and homesteads bright which fill - True household gods and beauty,--there, I ween, - Alone ’neath tempering clouds in full perfection seen. - - -XXII. - - Ah, better ’twere beneath this radiant sky, - This sparkling sunlight shimmering o’er the plain, - To give to tender thoughts the melting eye, - And yield the heart to Love’s delicious pain. - The genius bland, the balmy air of Spain, - More fit the lute than dire artillery’s roar. - Ah, better far to sing such sweet refrain - Some dark-eyed Andaluzan’s bower before, - As thus might ease the shaft that quivers in the core:-- - - -La Sebillana - - -1. - - My Enriqueta’s eyelids - Are as soft as dews that fall - From the moonlit jasper fountain - In Alhambra’s silent hall. - No star that, through its casement, - At the midnight hour you spy, - Hath the light, - Streaming bright, - Of my Enriqueta’s eye! - - -2. - - It hath the Southern darkness, - And the Southern depth as well; - Touches, too, of Moorish wildness - In its rapid glances dwell. - ’Tis broad-cut like an almond, - With a long and silken lash; - When her mind - Is to be kind, - How she veils its lightning flash! - - -3. - - Her step is light and buoyant, - As if borne upon the air; - Short and danceful are her movements, - Like a pheasant’s young and fair. - Stately-paced _piafadora_,[C] - Waving gently to and fro, - Do I hear - No music near, - While so gracefully you go? - - -4. - - Her head she carries finely, - And her bearing’s wondrous proud, - And her voice, like silver lute strings, - Thrills the heart--but never loud! - ’Tis a voice the brain to wilder; - Oh, I glory to be near, - As she strolls, - Witching souls, - By the blue Guadalquivír! - - -XXIII. - - The hour is come! The stream of valour doomed - Pours through the openings of the huge seawall. - Death reaps even now his harvest. Deep entombed - I’ the earth full twoscore men like raindrops fall, - By premature mine that else had swallowed all! - Unchecked the rush of that tremendous crowd, - And far beyond the Hope Forlorn appal - The bristling ramparts, as with daring proud - They fly to the horrid breach,--tho’ Hell should yawn, uncowed! - - -XXIV. - - Who leads the van? Green Erin’s son, Mac Iar, - Fleet as the roebuck on his native hills; - Dauntless as Brian’s sword, through showering fire, - He boundeth o’er the seabeach rocks and rills, - Impetuous. How his manly figure fills - The eyes of thousands! How his dancing plume - Of streaming snow enchains his followers’ wills, - Doubling their speed, while copes i’ the front with doom - That gallant form that seems defiant of the tomb! - - -XXV. - - Alcides’ arm--the eye that Python slew, - The limbs and shoulder of the Delian God! - Now ’neath the breach that form triumphant view, - Now see it stretched supine upon the sod! - Ay, instant struck, as strikes Heaven’s fire the rod - That points from loftiest pinnacle. No dirge - Shall wail that fall, no cypress o’er it nod. - ’Tis War’s repast! Their course the stormers urge, - And o’er the Hero’s corse go sweeping like a surge! - - -XXVI. - - And Morton now, and Nial by his side, - In peril’s front the impetuous stormers lead; - Nor less their beauty nor their valour’s pride - Than his whose doom was first that day to bleed. - In generous rivalry, like mettled steed, - They strain to win the breach, their grisly goal. - Their flashing swords, athirst for Glory’s meed, - Their tossing plumes, the advancing crowd controul,-- - And daring like to their’s inspires each warrior soul. - - -XXVII. - - On, on they rush, their line with dead bestrewing, - While Mont ’Orgullo and Santelmo pour - Both shot and shell, the living brave renewing - The venturous rank where heroes fall before. - Up, up the breach they climb, swift mounting o’er - Bastion and parapet in fragments hurled-- - Titanic ruins strewn along the shore-- - While nearer now the culverin smoke is curled, - And deadly grapeshot paves the path to a new world. - - -XXVIII. - - From every quarter sweeps an iron shower-- - Cannon and musketry in front and rear-- - From nearest horn and distant fort and tower, - From rampart, bastion, curtain, cavalier. - Up, up the breach they climb and laugh at fear! - The summit’s gained--it seems the verge of Hell-- - A gulf impassable! Live thunder near - Leaps forth from guns whose momentary knell - Rings for the brave who fall where late they stood so well. - - -XXIX. - - Still swarms the fiery brink. Who now will dare - Leap the dire chasm--who like Empedocles - Will plunge into the Ætna flaming there, - And be esteemed a God? Who to appease - Hesperia’s manes, like the youth who sees - The barathrum profound i’ the Forum yawn, - Spurs his strong courser, is engulfed, and frees - Great Rome--who now, by patriot impulse drawn, - Will sound that fell abyss, and haste fair Freedom’s dawn? - - -XXX. - - Oh frightful precipice! Full many an eye - Glares on its horrid depth and back recoils. - Madly to plunge were hopelessly to die, - Or torn and shattered fall into the toils. - Even lingering here is death! As rankest soils - Are strown with richest growths, the valiant strew - That gory Scylla’s crest. Charybdis boils - With vortex under. What may heroes do? - Advance? In vain. Recede? No, Britons’ hearts be true! - - -XXXI. - - Up climbs a multitude of strenuous men, - Who thick as forest-leaves autumnal fall, - So keen for entrance to the lion’s den, - Not death at every footstep can appal! - Sore doth that storm of fire their valour gall, - And slowly with reluctant pride they sink, - Till stubborn planted on the lower wall - They stand beneath the fiery torrent’s brink, - While ever and anon their chain doth lose a link. - - -XXXII. - - Thrice to the deadly summit of the breach - Did Morton rush, and thrice was backward borne, - Like mariner that, dashed on stormy beach, - Swayed by the surge against the cliffs is torn. - But nought could drown unconquerable scorn - Of death in that young hero. Up once more - He rushed to the crest, and fell. Young Blanca, mourn! - Thy lover’s heart is pierced, he totters o’er, - And falls ’mid heaps of slain--his dirge the artillery’s roar:-- - - -The Rally. - - -1. - - As a torrent that bounds - From its mountainous dwelling - Obstruction but chafes - Into foamier swelling; - As snorts the wild bull - Whom the banderils pierce, - So the death-scattered breach - Makes the phalanx more fierce! - - -2. - - Each shower that is cast - From the foemen’s fell cannon - But makes the assault - To lift prouder its pennon. - Each shaft from the walls - Gives to Valour new wings; - O’er each hero that falls - See, a new hero springs! - - -3. - - There is that to be done - At which nations shall wonder; - The scarp shall be our’s, - Although tenfold its thunder; - In spite of wide Earth, - And in spite of deep Hell. - Where a Briton resolved, - Could a Gaul ever quell? - - -4. - - Come, cannon and musquet, - Rain grapeshot and mortar! - We laugh at the rattling, - We ask for no quarter. - By the breach shall we climb - To yon turret-clad town, - And the tricolor tear - From the cavalier down! - - -5. - - On the death-dealing fort - Shall we plant our proud standard. - Was red-coat e’er seen, - Who to cowardice pandered? - Each traverse we’ll cross - With invincible steel. - Then swift to your knees, - Or the bayonet feel! - - -6. - - See, see the breach strewn - With our corses all gory. - ’Tis but the first crop - In the harvest of glory! - Sebastian is our’s, - Though it rain shot and shell. - Where a Briton resolved, - Could a Gaul ever quell? - - -XXXIII. - - What stream is poured afresh? new Volunteers! - They come, impetuous as the Pampas steed, - Dash o’er the strand and trample craven fears, - Fly up the breach where thick-strewn heroes bleed. - They reach the crest. In vain! Snapt like a reed - Is many an oak of war. The valorous surge - Is spent in its vain fury, like seaweed - Each quivering corse depositing. Yet urge - The living on, though fire their ranks incessant scourge. - - -XXXIV. - - Thus swarm i’ the summer ray o’er parchéd ground - Unnumbered emmets toiling onward straight. - Vain is the wrath that slays and strews around; - Unslack’d their zeal, uncheck’d their war with fate. - New myriads crowd each instant, even while wait - Unpitying feet to tread them into dust, - Indomitable. To small thus likened great, - Men swarm to the breach, and glut the gory lust - Of sternest foe, yet stand, true to their country’s trust. - - -XXXV. - - And all--must all be slaughtered? Lord of Hosts! - Must this great valour be a Holocaust? - Must men like oxen perish at their posts, - And all the guerdon of their daring lost? - Still do they mount and slow receding, crost - Their dream of triumph, totter, sink, and fall. - Even won the prize, how terrible the cost! - The victory-flag to thousands were a pall. - Oh Lord of Hosts, arise, or butchery smites them all! - - -XXXVI. - - With blood-red arms see Carnage, screaming hag, - Gloat o’er each gash that lets the life away, - Plash through the crimson stream, and curse if lag - The shower of death-bolts darkening bright mid-day. - See sopt her hands in gore, see ’mid the fray - Where burst her eyes from forth her grisly head, - In rapture that such numbers slaughtered lay: - While reek her tangled tresses, see her fed - On dying groans, astride like Nightmare on the dead! - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO V. - - -In the account of the Storming of San Sebastian, which occupies -this and part of the next Canto, I follow chiefly Napier’s -_History_, book xxii. chap. 2. The part which I assign to Nial in -leading the false assault on the night of the 29th of August was in -reality undertaken and bravely executed by Lieutenant Mc Adam of -the 9th regiment. As stated in my text, the leader was the only one -of the entire party that returned alive! The storming took place -on the morning of the 31st August, 1813. The leader, Lieutenant -Maguire of the 4th regiment (whose name I have restored to its -antique Celto-Irish form, “Mac Iar”) was struck down precisely as -described in my text. (See Napier.) The following account is from -Gleig’s _Subaltern_:-- - -“The forlorn hope took its station at the mouth of the most -advanced trench about half-past ten o’clock. The tide, which had -long turned, was now fast ebbing, and these gallant fellows beheld -its departure with a degree of feverish anxiety such as he only can -imagine who has stood in a similar situation. This was the first -time that a town was stormed by daylight since the commencement -of the war, and the storming party were enabled distinctly to -perceive the preparations which were making for their reception: -there was, therefore, something not only interesting but novel -in beholding the muzzles of the enemy’s cannon from the castle -and other batteries turned in such a direction as to flank the -breaches, whilst the glancing of bayonets and the occasional rise -of caps and feathers gave notice of the line of infantry which was -forming underneath the parapet. There an officer from time to time -could be distinguished leaning his telescope over the top of the -rampart or through the opening of an embrasure, and prying with -deep attention into our arrangements. Nor were our own officers, -particularly those of the engineers, idle. With the greatest -coolness they exposed themselves to a dropping fire of musketry, -which the enemy at intervals kept up, whilst they examined and -re-examined the state of the breaches. It would be difficult to -convey to the mind of an ordinary reader anything like a correct -notion of the state of feeling which takes possession of a man -waiting for the commencement of a battle. In the first place, time -appears to move upon leaden wings, every minute seems an hour, and -every hour a day. Then there is a strange commingling of levity -and seriousness within him, a levity which prompts him to laugh -he scarce knows why, and a seriousness which urges him ever and -anon to lift up a mental prayer to the Throne of Grace. On such -occasions little or no conversation passes. The privates generally -lean upon their firelocks, and the officers upon their swords, and -few words except monosyllables, at least in answer to questions -put, are wasted. On these occasions, too, the faces of the bravest -often change colour, and the limbs of the most resolute tremble, -not with fear but with anxiety, whilst watches are consulted till -the individuals who consult them grow absolutely weary of the -employment. On the whole, it is a situation of higher excitement -and darker and deeper agitation than any other in human life, nor -can he be said to have felt all which man is capable of feeling who -has not filled it. - -“Noon had barely passed, when the low state of the tide giving -evidence that the river might be forded, the word was given to -advance. Silent as the grave the column moved forward. In one -instant the leading files had cleared the trenches, and the others -poured on in quick succession after them, when the work of death -began. The enemy, having reserved their fire till the head of the -column had gained the middle of the stream, then opened with the -most deadly effect. Grape, canister, musketry, shells, grenades, -and every species of missile, were hurled from the ramparts, -beneath which our gallant fellows dropped _like corn before the -reaper_; in so much, that in the space of two minutes the river was -literally choked up with the bodies of the killed and wounded, over -whom, without discrimination, the advancing division pressed on. -The opposite bank was soon gained, and the short space between the -landing-place and the foot of the breach rapidly cleared without -a single shot having been returned by the assailants. But here -the most alarming prospect awaited them. Instead of a wide and -tolerably level chasm, the breach presented the appearance only of -an ill-built wall thrown considerably from its perpendicular, to -ascend which, even though unopposed, would be no easy task. It was, -however, too late to pause; besides, the men’s blood was hot and -their courage on fire, so they pressed on, clambering up as they -best could, and effectually hindering one another from falling, -each by the eagerness of the rear ranks to follow those in front. -Shouts and groans were now mingled with the roar of cannon and the -rattle of musketry: our front ranks likewise had an opportunity of -occasionally firing with effect, and the slaughter on both sides -was dreadful. At length the head of the column forced its way to -the summit of the breach, where it was met in the most gallant -style by the bayonets of the garrison. When I say the summit of the -breach, I mean not to assert that our soldiers stood upon a level -with their enemies, for this was not the case. There was a high -step, perhaps two or three feet in length, which the assailants -must surmount before they could gain the same ground with the -defenders, and a very considerable period elapsed ere that step was -surmounted. Here bayonet met bayonet, and sabre met sabre, in close -and desperate strife, without the one party being able to advance -or the other succeeding in driving them back.” - - - I. “While shattering Fate his iron moulds doth fill!” - - Ἀλλ’ ἁ μοιριδία τις δύνασις δεινά· - Οὔτ’ ἄν νιν ὄμβρος, οὔτ’ Ἄρης, - Οὐ πύργος, οὐχ ἁλίκτυποι - Κελαιναὶ νᾶες ἐκφύγοιεν. - Soph. _Antig._ 951. - -“Crushing is the power of Fate! which neither the elements, nor -Mars, nor a tower, nor the black wave-roaring ships can flee.” - - - III. “Nor fairer Hella on the Ægean flood.” - - Utque fugam rapiant, aries nitidissimus auro - Traditur: ille vehit per freta longa duos. - Dicitur infirmâ cornu tenuisse sinistrâ - Femina, cùm de se nomina fecit aquæ. - Pene simul periit, dum vult succurrere lapsæ - Frater. - Ovid, _Fast._ iii. 867. - -See also Pindar’s Fourth Pythionic. - - “Nor with more grief was Athamantis torn.” - - Et frustrà pecudem quæres Athamantidos Helles. - Ovid. _Fast._ iv. 903. - - - VII. “But Isidora’s lot was e’en more drear, - For none might dare from San Sebastian pass.” - - La verde primavera - De mis floridos años - Pasé cautiva en tus prisiones, - Y en la cadena fiera. - Lope de Vega, _Arcadia_. - - - “To pluck the summer flowers, and brush the dewy grass.” - -“In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and -pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to go -out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with Heaven -and Earth.”--Milton, _Tractate on Education_, § 22. - - - VIII. ----“Invoked the Virgin’s might, - And deemed she saw her form within that orb of light.” - - The nightly hunter, lifting a bright eye - Up towards the crescent moon, with grateful heart - Called on the lovely wanderer who bestowed - That timely light to share his joyous sport; - And hence, a beaming goddess with her nymphs - Across the lawn, and thro’ the darksome grove, - Not unaccompanied with tuneful notes, - By echo multiplied from rock or cave, - Swept in the storm of chase; as moon and stars - Glance rapidly along the clouded Heaven - When winds are blowing strong. - Wordsworth, _The Excursion_. - - - IX. ----“‘Empress-Queen - Of Heaven, Immaculate Virgin!’” - -For these epithets see the _Horas Castellanas_. - - - XIII. ----“Great Arthur calls - For nigh a thousand hearts that danger scorn - To rush like Ocean-surge against the walls.” - - Disse ai duci il gran Duce: “Al nuovo albore - “Tutti all’ assalto voi pronti sarete.” - Tasso, _Gerus. Lib._ xi. 17. - - - XIX. “To where the grisly bastion-breach doth frown.” - - --Γοργείην κεφαλὴν δεινοῖο πελώρον. - Hom. _Od._ xi. 633. - - - XXV. “Alcides’ arm--the eye that Python slew, - The limbs and shoulder of the Delian God!” - - Nec quòd laudamus formam, tàm turpe putâris; - Laudamus magnas hâc quoque parte Deas. - Ovid. _Fast._ vi. 807. - - - XXVI. “And Morton now, and Nial by his side, - In peril’s front the impetuous stormers lead,” &c. - - Φευγόντων σὺν νηυσὶ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν· - Νῶϊ δ’ ἐγὼ Σθένελός τε μαχησόμεθ’, εἰσόκε τέκμωρ - Ἰλίου εὕρωμεν. - Hom. _Il._ ix. 47. - -“Let them fly with their ships, to their dear native country; -but we--Sthenelus and I--will fight till we find the end of -Ilion!” Cæsar addresses his soldiers in language very nearly -similar:--“Quòd si præterea nemo sequatur, tamen se cum solâ decimâ -legione iturum, de quâ non dubitaret.”--_De Bella Gallico_, lib. i. -§. 40. - - - XXXI. “Not death at every footstep can appal.” - - Per damna, per cædes, ab ipso - Ducit opes animumque ferro. - Non ... - Monstrumve summisere Colchi - Majus, Echioniæve Thebæ. - Horat. _Carm._ iv. 4. - - - XXXII. “Like mariner that dashed on stormy beach,” &c. - - Naufragum ut ejectum spumantibus æquoris undis. - Catul. lxvi. - - “As snorts the wild bull - Whom the banderils pierce.” - - E qual táuro ferito il suo dolore - Versó mugghiando e suspirando fuore. - Tasso, _Ger. Lib._ iv. 1. - - - XXXIV. “Thus swarm i’ the summer ray o’er parchéd ground - Unnumbered emmets toiling onward straight.” - -This image will not be condemned as vulgar by those who are -familiar with Homer; and it is further justified by the use of one -of our most elegant poets, Thomson, who commences his _Castle of -Indolence_ thus: - - O mortal man, who livest here by toil, - Do not complain of this thy hard estate; - That like an emmet thou must ever moil, - Is a sad sentence of an ancient date. - - - XXXVI. “With blood-red arms see Carnage, screaming hag.” - - Todo es muerte y horror: vense hacinados - En torno suyo cuerpos espirantes, - Cadáveres y miembros destroncados. - Campo-redondo. - _Las Armas de Aragon en Oriente._ - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto VI. - - -I. - - Upon the Chofre stood the dauntless Graham, - And marked the slaughter with determined eye, - Sad yet unshrinking--poured then forth of flame - A torrent hissing red athwart the sky. - Close o’er the stormers’ heads the missiles fly, - The stone-ribbed curtain into fragments hurled-- - Full fifty cannon streaming death on high. - Unmoved they stand--no flag of fear unfurled-- - A scene unmatched before since dawning of the world! - - -II. - - Even as at Niagára’s thundering fall, - Where leaps the torrent with gigantic stride, - Beneath the watery volume Cyclop wall - Of rocks huge-piléd spans the river wide, - Where dares the venturous voyager abide, - And while his ears terrific clamour stuns, - Flies free o’erhead the cataract’s foaming tide, - And scarce crystálline globule o’er him runs: - Thus stand ’neath Death o’erarched Britannia’s dauntless sons! - - -III. - - “Retire!” was first the cry. “A traitorous foe! - Our batteries’ fire is ’gainst the stormers turned;” - And struck a straggling shot the ranks below; - But Nial and his men the counsel spurned. - To win, whate’er the cost, their bosoms burned; - And ’mid the fiercest of the cannonade, - While San Sebastian for his bulwarks mourned, - Within the rampart solid ground they made-- - First step in victory’s march, whose laurels ne’er will fade. - - -IV. - - What were thy triumphs, Greece, on Elis’ plain, - Olympian dust Alphéus’ margin strewing, - The Agora’s grand inspiring shouts, the train - Of statues for the Altis sculptors hewing, - Fame-thirst the prince’ and peasant’s soul imbuing? - Unreal glories to the trampled fear, - Which England with her million eyes is viewing. - First Erin’s sons to encounter peril here. - No rebel wisdom yet impairs that lusty cheer! - - -Tricorpor Geryon. - - -1. - - Mark where Valour’s triple crown, - Marring every despot’s frown, - Gives to evergreen renown - Britain’s dauntless sons. - Albion, Erin, Scotia join - Strength of shoulder, heart, and loin, - Men as sterling as their coin, - Faithful as their guns! - - -2. - - Albion firm as Erin brave, - Scotia strong as angry wave. - Who could such a land enslave? - Who her spirit quell? - Albion sturdy, Scotia grim, - Erin dashing o’er the brim-- - True till death, though for a whim - Wordy Knaves rebel! - - -3. - - Albion steady, Erin bold, - Scotia gallant as of old; - Britain’s men are Britain’s gold, - Hardy sons of toil. - Albion dauntless, Scotia true, - Erin fervid--loyal, too, - Spite of Spleen’s seditious crew - Banded o’er her soil. - - -4. - - Glorious Nations, three in one, - Long be warmed by Victory’s sun, - Ne’er by factious hate undone, - Ne’er the bond untied. - Ne’er be shorn of either gem - Britain’s noble diadem. - Shamrock, rose, and thistle’s stem - Ne’er let men divide! - - -V. - - Nor one the breach nor one the fierce assault; - Three several columns mount the broken wall; - ’Mid deadliest havoc each is forced to halt, - And rush the living where their brothers fall, - Strewn on the crest of that Pyracmon tall; - While heaps of slain a slippery footing yield - To men whose hearts not _this_ e’en can appal. - Still brandish the besieged their fiery shield, - Till thicker strew the dead than live possess the field! - - -VI. - - Nor yet Graham’s thunder ceases. Volleying rolls - The red artillery, on each lightning-flash - Dismay is borne to the defenders’ souls, - Destruction’s bolts against the ramparts dash, - And ruin strews the battlements. As lash - The stormy billows Achill’s rock-bound shore - With all the Atlantic’s force, thus many a gash - That fiery torrent opes the bulwarks o’er, - And still at verge of death they madly strain the more! - - -VII. - - And they are mad, or more than madness seems - Thy glow, enthusiast Courage! Many a boy - Sees Valour’s guerdon shine with starry beams, - And Danger, made a mockery, seems a joy! - Yet swiftly hostile fires their ranks destroy, - Nor yet to San Sebastian entrance gained. - Already grief their glory ’gins to alloy, - Lest ’neath that wall their glittering arms be stained. - Ere comes defeat be, Graham, thy death-fire two-fold rained! - - -VIII. - - Resistance chafes their spirits, stirs their blood. - Excitement fires their minds beyond controul; - Till lightning runs through all the arterial flood, - And lion-daring grows the warrior-soul. - Full many a gentle bosom ’neath that roll - Of musketry and cannon feels transformed-- - Spurred like a race-horse bounding to the goal, - Till death’s a sport to venturers conflict-warmed, - And not by men but fiends seems San Sebastian stormed. - - -IX. - - Oh, sleepless eyes and aching foreheads tell - In homes far distant how those lives are prized, - Which now are diced away, though loved so well-- - On Glory’s shadowy altar sacrificed! - The heart-wrung sob at parting undisguised, - The silent hall and the deserted bower, - The tender charge of Beauty idolized, - And curléd babes, forgot in this wild hour,-- - To Gorgons grim consigned is Manhood’s chosen flower! - - -X. - - What terrible explosion rends the sky? - What fierce combustion wraps in flame the air? - Traverse and curtain tall to ruin fly, - And sulphurous fires the bastioned bulwarks tear - Like rags asunder! Cries of deep despair - Burst from the pale defenders; grenadiers, - Unmoved as rocks till then, in hundreds share - The ramparts’ doom which form their blackened biers; - And rush the stormers in with lustiest British cheers. - - -XI. - - Of volumed smoke at length the eddying wave - Falls o’er the battlement and clears the ground. - Still would the sons of France the fortress save, - Amazed amid the ruin spread around; - But onward to their breasts the assailants bound, - And momently the baffled foemen scare. - They rally--I ween none there hath quarter found; - They stand--and desperate valour all doth dare. - In vain--the stormers rush like lightning to their lair. - - -XII. - - Red as the slaughter which their hands achieved, - The British garb doth smite the foe with awe; - And as our sturdy bowmen Creçy grieved - O’er Gaul’s full-mailéd Knights triumphant saw, - So the strong bayonet deals resistless law; - And fly before that conflict hand to hand - Of bone and muscle, ere a breath they draw, - The sons of France, a wrongful Tyrant’s band, - Who fight not heaven-inspired for Freedom in the land. - - -XIII. - - Unconquered yeomen, England’s strength and pride! - Who ne’er have yet been wanting at her call - Against the world to stand, or dashing ride - ’Gainst odds that all but Britons would appal! - For where, brave hearts, doth rise your serried wall - Of adamant, in vain the thunder-scar. - Upon that conquering ground ye stand or fall. - Oh, strenuous arms alike for toil and war, - May ne’er be seen the day when Wrong your might shall mar! - - -XIV. - - Oh, Rank and Dignity! I saw too flies - Spawned in the self-same chamber, sporting gay. - With equal force, on equal wing, they rise - Through the short sunshine of a summer day. - Yet one the other buzzed to keep away, - And flouted oft--intensest scorn revealing, - As telling him below the Knave should stay, - Too far beneath him born for kindly feeling-- - One hatched upon the floor, the other on the ceiling! - - -XV. - - Five deadly hours that conflict fell endured; - But onward now the tide of Valour flowing, - Chafed by the long restraint all foaming poured, - The seeds of Death with every wavelet sowing, - And, ah, on Mercy scarce a thought bestowing! - As destrier strong whose mouth with curbing bleeds, - When loosed the rein, doth plunge with eye-ball glowing, - Mad snort, and trampling hoof which Fury speeds, - So dash the stormers in like spurred and panting steeds. - - -XVI. - - A standard floats upon the cavalier. - It is the far-renownéd tricolor, - Whose folds more proudly ne’er have waved than here, - Though many a victor field they’ve fluttered o’er. - Up Nial springs with hand still dripping gore, - And stoutly tears that tyrant-standard down. - Three loud huzzas resound from sky to shore-- - Floats in its stead the flag of Leon’s crown. - ’Tis ours! And Spain once more is mistress of her town. - - -XVII. - - Thus strove Peleides with the King of Men - For fair Briseïs many a stubborn hour, - And hung War’s chances on the wistful ken - Of her ’mongst all Lyrnessian spoil the flower, - Whose charms drew eyes from Ilion’s loftiest tower. - Thus to Achilles’ arms the maid restored - Was stript o’ the robes that swept Atrides’ bower, - And decked anew in livery of her lord, - To show no tyrant folds should float o’er his adored. - - -XVIII. - - And well too fought thy warriors, Lusitain, - Who, led by Britons, clomb the further breach, - Resolved to strike a vigorous blow for Spain, - And, how their iron fathers strove, to teach: - Afonso, Avíz, Nun’ Alvares--heroes each-- - Castro and Albuquerque not quite forgot - By their descendants, dauntless here who reach - And pluck the wreath to wear might be their lot, - If were not all their fire as fitful even as hot. - - -XIX. - - Not thy Fidalgos, withered boughs, I ween, - Nor yet thy Royalty as much despised, - Who fled like hinds when danger crost the scene, - Their cumbrous rank like Manhood ne’er disguised, - Their scutcheoned pomp like carrion fitly prized! - Henceforth shall men for an opprobrium know - The names by chroniclers most idolized, - And choose strong blood Plebeian’s healthier flow, - That scaled Sebastian’s towers while nobles quaked below. - - -XX. - - And Spain her Guerrilleros--Dorian race-- - Sent to the conflict with unconquered hearts, - And eyes that Tyranny could ne’er abase, - Unerringly to guide their fiery darts, - Where Vengeance winged with every shot departs. - And hasting to the War, whose sacred cry - Was “Death to the Invader!”, warm while starts - The big round tear from fair Pastora’s eye, - The peasant-soldier thus with Heaven made an ally:-- - - -The Guerrillero to his Mistress. - -1. - - While spin the amber beads - Beneath thy rosy finger, - And nought thy spirit heeds - Save thoughts that Heav’nward linger; - At Isidoro’s shrine, - Upon the floor of marble, - While move thy lips divine, - For me an Ave warble! - - -2. - - And while, the Virgin’s Hours - In softest tones reciting, - You bend the Heav’nly Powers, - Their blessed aid inviting; - Breathe then for me a prayer, - That, moved amidst her splendour, - Our Lady of Vejer - May crown my wishes tender. - -3. - - If spirits pure as thine - Weave idly their petition, - What talisman for mine, - To shield it from perdition? - Oh, Mary, thou alone - Canst ope the path before me, - Canst give my heart a tone, - Canst shed a blessing o’er me! - -4. - - The Seraph forms are fair, - In Heav’nly chorus swelling, - But thine as well in prayer - Becomes its earthly dwelling. - Thou look’st a clouded Moon, - When veiled for solemn duty; - If thou’rt refused a boon, - Why give thee so much beauty? - - -XXI. - - Oh glorious race, indomitably fierce! - Earth’s peasant-lords, triumphant o’er each shock; - No, not more vain Antæus’ self to pierce, - For sprung, too, from thy soil new strength to mock - Thy foes, like Afric’s giant whom enlock - The arms of Hercules; or liker him, - The Achaian marsh heaved upward like a rock, - Whose hissing heads struck off, still heads more grim - Rose terrible to tear the Invader limb from limb! - - -XXII. - - Five deadly hours that conflict fell did last, - And o’er the scarp now streams the flood of War; - But many a barricade must still be past, - Where dauntless Rey disputes ’gainst Victory’s star, - With feeble garrison that yields each bar, - O’erpowered by numbers though they battled well. - And, vanquished soon by Fate, entrenched they are - In Mont’ Orgullo, where both shot and shell - Pours on the brave resolved their lives to dearly sell. - - -XXIII. - - Now Slaughter stalks triumphantly alone, - And silent is the fierce artillery’s roar; - But shriek and shout and yell, cry, curse, and groan, - Make music dire to rend the bosom’s core, - And louder than Man’s thunder rolled before - Comes Heaven’s artillery from the mountains down, - Dark, stormy, terrible: leap lightnings o’er - The murky cope to mark the Almighty’s frown - For deeds of carnage done in that devoted town. - - -XXIV. - - What careth Man red-handed for His wrath? - What bellowing beast so terrible as he, - When boundless passions master him? His path - Is more destructive than the stormy sea. - His nostril is a furnace. Ominously - Doth glare his bloodshot eye. Nor Beauty saves - The virgin, nor grey hairs and tottering knee - The reverend sire. Lust, rapine, murder waves - A pirate flag o’er all, and hearths are turned to graves! - - -XXV. - - Oh, meek-eyed Pity! Tenderness of Soul! - Oh, sacred source of sympathetic tears! - Say, hast thou fled the Earth, whose tottering pole - Can ill sustain its weight of grief and fears? - Is dried your fountain, choked by crimson biers? - Oh, human anguish! Yet, by man’s accord, - The day shall come, when he who as in years - Gone by shall dare produce thee--King or Lord-- - A Pariah-brand shall wear, than Demons more abhorred! - - -XXVI. - - Still havoc, plunder reigns. Where is thy sword, - Sebastian, Warrior-Saint, that now should wheel - Like the Archangel’s, Eden who restored - To Solitude? Dost thou less horror feel - That thine own City ’neath the shock should reel - Of ruffian violence? Prætorian brave, - The Imperial Boar withstanding in thy zeal, - Thou whom nor Roman shafts subdued nor glaive, - Thy consecrated town arise, great Saint, and save! - - -XXVII. - - Oh, arrow-pierced for Christ! whose mighty ban - Against the arrowy shower of pestilence - In aid Divine is still invoked by Man, - And potent still, this plague send howling hence. - By that great voice, whose eloquence intense, - When Marcus trembled, made him firm to win - The Martyr-crown, and Christian turned the dense - Blood-thirsting crowd--guard, judges--all within - Its mighty compass, rise, and stay the steps of sin! - - -XXVIII. - - Nazrene Apollo, beautiful as bold, - Whose worship whirls the enthusiast Southern maid - To passion oft and madness, to behold - Thee limned so blooming fair--give, give thine aid! - Oh, by Irene’s love who undismayed - Unbound thee, pouring balm into each wound - The archers left--against the pillar laid-- - When dead they thought thee who had only swooned; - By her who healed thee, raise that voice to mercy tuned! - - -XXIX. - - By that majestic Faith, whose dauntless power - Confronted Cæsar at his palace gate, - When to the Capitol in glory’s hour - The Tyrant proud ascended, lording fate; - And dared reproach him with his cruel hate - For God’s elect; and by the Martyr-crown - Thy zeal soon won, oh leave not desolate - The walls that bear thy name. Forbear to frown. - The patron gives no sign. Alas, devoted town! - - -XXX. - - High on the greater breach where hours before - Had swept the wave of battle, ’neath the black - And murky cope, which flashed red lightnings o’er, - A maiden stood alone in murder’s track, - A white-robed angel seemed ’mid general wrack, - And to and fro amid the heaps of slain, - And round and round and forward then and back, - Peered in each pallid face War’s iron rain - Had shattered there, and passed like Judgment in Death’s train. - - -XXXI. - - ’Twas Blanca! she had heard too soon, too soon - Of William’s fall, and sought his corse, I ween. - As girt with thunder-clouds the silver Moon, - So shone the maiden in that direful scene. - But, ah, her cheek had lost its rosy sheen, - Glared wild her eye, her tresses loosely fell. - With frantic haste and Pythonissa’s mien, - She tears away the corses where they dwell - In gory heaps that prove they stood the tempest well. - - -XXXII. - - She halts--she starts--on Morton’s corse she lights. - Too true the mournful tidings! One shrill cry-- - She falls upon his breast, more dull than Night’s, - His cold lips kisses in her agony, - And clasps again--again--till no reply - Convinces even _her_ fond heart the source - Of Life is frozen--then, without a sigh, - Takes from his hand the sword, nor feels remorse, - Her heart transpierces, falls, and dies upon his corse. - - -XXXIII. - - Oh noblest maiden, though of low estate, - With every proud and generous impulse rife; - Born to demonstrate to the meanly great, - How vain the pageant of a worthless life! - Sprung from thy heart like wild-flowers all that wife - Could bring of purity to Kingliest throne, - With highest attributes to soothe the strife - Of human passion, for the fall atone, - And show our angel-part preserved in thee alone! - - -XXXIV. - - Yet noble as thou wert, thy hand was armed - ’Gainst thine own life. ’Neath that terrific shock - Thy great heart broke! The eye that Morton charmed - Burst with its grief-flood like the Prophet’s rock. - Cold, callous wordlings, do not Blanca mock. - Her fault was generous--that she loved too much. - Not long did Anguish at her bosom knock. - Like Indian brides when Death their lords doth clutch, - She died in the same hour. Grief killed her with a touch! - - -XXXV. - - Cantabrian maidens, sisters of the oar, - Mourn, mourn for her your Cynosure and pride. - Her star-like eye shall guide your chase no more, - Your glory fled from earth when Blanca died! - In vain your barks shall o’er the billows ride; - Her beauty gave the sunshine most ye miss. - So graceful ne’er again your fleet shall glide; - Nor waves your prows so joyously shall kiss. - For Nereus ne’er surveyed a daughter fair as this! - - -XXXVI. - - Mourn, San Sebastian, for the beauty blighted - Of her your angel-child in by-gone years. - Your eyes no more shall by her charms delighted - Recal celestial dreams to chase your fears. - And, Isidora too, be shed thy tears, - Or hoarded for thyself whom danger girds. - Thy foster-sister memory now endears - Alone, with thought of gentle deeds and words. - For ye were severed long, poor caged and sundered birds! - - -XXXVII. - - And, England, mourn for him the youthful Chief, - Whose noble promise Death hath there struck down, - Survived by Blanca for a moment brief, - And followed soon beneath the rampart’s frown. - Oh, perished there young Love and young Renown, - And budding Glory in the path of arms. - Mourn for the brave who fell before the town, - Nor least for Morton, first ’mid War’s alarms - To prove the patriot glow the Briton’s heart that warms. - - -XXXVIII. - - Still roars the thunder-storm--Day wears the gloom - Of Night’s black canopy, and wears it well. - That pall o’erspreads more horrors than the tomb; - Beneath its folds are done the deeds of Hell! - And chiefs who seek the demon strife to quell - Are slaughtered by their men. Drunk volunteers, - Mad soldiers, vile camp-followers, knaves who swell - The array of War, and know nor shame nor fears, - A plundering pathway hew thro’ havoc, blood, and tears. - - -XXXIX. - - Still roars the volleying thunder. Dost not feel - Appalled, thou villain, by that lightning-flash, - Nor dream when brandishing thy dripping steel, - That crimes like thine the Eternal arm will lash? - Doth not that thunder-clap thine eye abash? - For not more fell was Attila than thou; - Not Alaric’s self, whose Visigothic clash - Made Spain and Rome, beneath Honorius, bow, - Led monsters to the assault of much more shameless brow. - - -XL. - - Such are War’s lessons--such the hideous brood - Spawned by the Passions in the hour of strife; - Such the dire Madness fed by scent of blood, - Where plunder tempts and sullying gold is rife, - Wine fires each appetite and whets the knife; - Dissolved the bands of Discipline, the mould - Of duty broke, restored barbarian life; - Honour and Valour both to Rapine sold. - Look here, Ambition, here: thy handiwork behold! - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO VI. - - -The incidents of the first part of this Canto are derived in common -from Napier, Jones, and Gleig. The tearing down of the Tricolor, -which I have assigned to Nial, must be historically attributed to -the real performer of this bold exploit. - -“The French colours on the cavalier were torn away by Lieutenant -Gethin of the eleventh regiment.”--Napier, _Hist._ book xxii. chap. -2. - -The magnificent achievement of maintaining for a considerable -period a fire from our whole artillery, against the curtain wall, -over the heads of the storming party, is thus coldly, but (on the -whole) accurately, described by General Jones:--“From the superior -height of the curtain, the artillery in the batteries on the right -of the Urumea, were able to keep up a fire on that part during the -assault, without injury to the troops at the foot of the breach, -and being extremely well served, it occasioned a severe loss to the -enemy, and probably caused the explosion which led to the final -success of the assault.” The General’s coldness is owing to the -departure from the rules of art, and to the contempt of the maxims -of “Marshal Vauban, who had served and directed at fifty sieges,” -as he triumphantly describes him. Vauban’s maxim was certainly -not British: “At a siege never attempt any thing by open force, -which can be obtained by labour and art.” Gen. Jones is incorrect -in stating that the fire on the curtain was “without injury to -the troops.” Napier says: “A sergeant of the ninth regiment was -killed by the batteries close to his commanding officer, and it is -probable that other casualties also had place.” _Hist._ book xxii. -chap. 2. - -The impassable chasm beyond the breach is thus described by -Jones: “At the back of the whole of the rest of the breach was a -perpendicular wall, from fifteen to twenty-five feet in depth.” -(_Journals of Sieges_, Sup. Chap.) He thus describes the advance -of the Portuguese column: “Five hundred Portuguese, in two -detachments, forded the river Urumea near its mouth, in a very -handsome style, under a heavy fire of grape and musketry.” (Jones, -_Journals of Sieges_, Sup. Chap.) This does not quite do justice to -the gallantry of the party. “When the soldiers reached the middle -of the stream,” says Napier, “a heavy gun struck on the head of -the column with a shower of grape; the havoc was fearful, but the -survivors closed and moved on. A second discharge from the same -piece tore the ranks from front to rear, still the regiment moved -on.”--_Hist._ book xxii. c. 2. - -The following account is from Gleig’s _Subaltern_:-- - -“Things had continued in this state for nearly a quarter of -an hour, when Major Snodgrass, at the head of the thirteenth -Portuguese regiment, dashed across the river by his own ford, and -assaulted the lesser breach. This attack was made in the most cool -and determined manner, but here, too, the obstacles were almost -insurmountable; nor is it probable that the place would have been -carried at all but for a measure adopted by General Graham, such -as has never perhaps been adopted before. Perceiving that matters -were almost desperate, he had recourse to a desperate remedy, and -ordered our own artillery to fire upon the breach. Nothing could be -more exact or beautiful than this practice. Though our men stood -only about two feet below the breach, scarcely a single ball from -the guns of our batteries struck amongst them, whilst all told -with fearful exactness among the enemy. The fire had been kept -up only a few minutes, when all at once an explosion took place -such as drowned every other noise, and apparently confounded, for -an instant, the combatants on both sides. A shell from one of -our mortars had exploded near the train which communicated with -a quantity of gunpowder placed under the breach. This mine the -French had intended to spring as soon as our troops should have -made good their footing or established themselves on the summit, -but the fortunate accident just mentioned anticipated them. It -exploded whilst 300 grenadiers, the élite of the garrison, stood -over it; and instead of sweeping the storming party into eternity, -it only cleared a way for their advance. It was a spectacle as -appalling and grand as the imagination can conceive, the sight of -that explosion. The noise was more awful than any which I have ever -heard before or since, whilst a bright flash, instantly succeeded -by a smoke so dense as to obscure all vision, produced an effect -upon those who witnessed it such as no powers of language are -adequate to describe. Such, indeed, was the effect of the whole -occurrence, that for perhaps half a minute after not a shot was -fired on either side. Both parties stood still to gaze upon the -havoc which had been produced! insomuch, that a whisper might -have caught your ear for a distance of several yards. The state -of stupefaction into which they were at first thrown did not, -however, last long with the British troops. As the smoke and dust -of the ruins cleared away, they beheld before them a space empty -of defenders, and they instantly rushed forward to occupy it. -Uttering an appalling shout, the troops sprang over the dilapidated -parapet, and the rampart was their own. Now then began all those -maddening scenes which are witnessed only in a storm, of flight and -slaughter, and parties rallying only to be broken and dispersed, -till finally, having cleared the works to the right and left, the -soldiers poured down into the town.” - -It is nearly incredible, and certainly not very creditable, that -General Jones in his detailed account of the siege and storming of -San Sebastian, says not one word of the horrible excesses which -our soldiers there committed. Some men’s notions of history do not -differ very widely from the concoction of a political pamphlet. -Napier’s history abounds with frank admission and reprobation -of these horrors. I find a distinct allusion to them almost at -its very commencement: “No wild horde of Tartars ever fell with -more license upon their rich effeminate neighbours, than did the -English troops upon the Spanish towns taken by storm.”--_Hist. War -Penins._ i. 5. - -The part which the Portuguese took in this assault was sufficiently -creditable to make quite unnecessary the boasting spirit which -disfigures their national literature. It abounds in the great work -of their greatest poet. Thus, for instance:-- - - Que os muitos por ser poucos não temamos; - O que despois mil vezes amostramos. - Camóens, _Lus._ viii. 36. - - -“We don’t fear many because we are few, which we have shown a -thousand times!” And in the previous stanza he relates that -“seventeen Lusitanians, being attacked by 400 Castilians (desasete -Lusitanos subidos de quatro centos Castelhanos), not only defended -themselves, but offended their adversaries!!” - - Que não só se defendem, mas offendem! - -This ridiculous boasting and inane swagger, which was a vice in -the Portuguese blood in the days of Camóens, exists unchanged to -the present hour, and has been disgustingly manifested in a piece -called “Magriço” lately selected for the opening of the National -Theatre at Lisbon, in which Spaniards and Englishmen are alike -insulted. “We are not accustomed to count numbers!” was a sentiment -vehemently applauded in this piece. Let the Portuguese not deceive -themselves by an imagined resemblance to their forefathers; and if -their historical recollections are glorious, let them endeavour -practically to revive them. They should remember that it is little -more than a century since their entire army ran away from the -Spaniards and French at Almanza, and left their English, Dutch, and -German auxiliaries in the lurch. - - - I. “Upon the Chofre stood the dauntless Graham, - And marked the slaughter with determined eye.” - - Mas luego que los fija en el cercano - Altisimo torreon, bramando en ira - Jura rendir el enemigo muro - En general asalto y choque duro. - Campo-redondo, _Las Armas de Aragon en Oriente_. - - “Full fifty cannon streaming death on high.” - - ----Le macchine ... - A cui non abbia la città riparo. - Tasso, Ger. _Lib._ iii. 74. - - - IV. “What were thy triumphs, Greece, on Elis’ plain?” - - Sunt quibus Elææ concurrit palma quadrigæ. - Propert. l. iii. Eleg. 9. - - ἐμὲ δ’ ἐπὶ ταχυτά- - των πόρευσον ἁρμάτων - ἐς Ἆλιν, κράτει δὲ πέλασον. - Pind. _Olymp._ i. - -“Carry me on swiftest chariots to Elis, and bear me to Victory!” - - “Olympian dust Alpheus’ margin strewing.” - - μηκέθ’ ἁλίου σκόπει - ἄλλο θαλπνότερον - ἐν ἁμέρᾳ φαεινὸν ἄστρον - μήδ’ Ὀλυμπίας ἀγῶνα - φέρτερον αὐδάσομεν: - Pind. _Olymp._ i. - -“Deem no shining star greater than the Sun, nor contest more -excellent than the Olympian games.” - - “Of statues for the Altis sculptors hewing.” - - Διὸς ἄλκιμος - υἱὸς, σταθμᾶτο ζάθεον ἄλσος - πατρὶ μεγίστω· περὶ δὲ πάξας, - Ἄλτιν μὲν ὅγ’ ἐν καθαρῷ - διέκρινε. - Pind. _Olymp._ x. - -“The stalwart son of Jove measured out a grove divine to the -mightiest Father, and hedged it round, and the Altis he set apart -in that sacred place.” Pindar thus attributes the foundation of -the Olympic games to Hercules, who was more popular than Jupiter -himself amongst his Heraclidan audience; and a few lines before -he alludes to his conquest of Elis, on whose plain these games -were subsequently celebrated, “μυχοῖς ἅμμενον Ἄλιδος;” Hercules -having led thither an army from Tiryns, the first walled city upon -record. The sacred grove to which Pindar above refers contained the -temple of Olympian Jove, and the statues erected to the conquerors -in the games. The τρισολυμπιονῖκαι, or those who had been thrice -victorious, had their εἰκόνες in marble thus set, and copied -exactly from their members, which were thus in some degree deified. -(Plin. lib. 34, cap. 3.) And Aristotle, in his _Ethics_, lib. 7, c. -6, says that the Olympian conquerors were called “ἀνθρώπους” κατ’ -ἐξοχὴν, as if they alone were worthy of the name! - - - X. “And sulphurous fires the bastioned bulwarks tear - Like rags asunder!” - - --Καὶ στεφάνωμα πύργων - Πευκάενθ’ Ἥφαιστον ἑλεῖν. - Τοῖος ἀμφὶ νῶτ’ ἐτάθη - Πάταγος Ἄρεος. - Soph. _Antig._ 122. - -“And pitchy Vulcan seized our loftiest towers; dire was the din of -Mars that rose from behind.” - - “And rush the stormers in with lustiest British cheers.” - -“In the Peninsula, the sudden deafening shout, rolling over a field -of battle, more full and terrible than that of any other nation, -and followed by the strong unwavering charge, often startled and -appalled a French column, before whose fierce and vehement assault -any other troops would have given way.”--Napier, _Hist. War in the -Penins._ book xxiv. c. 6. - - - XIV. “Oh, Rank and Dignity! I saw two flies.” - -“They wonder how any man should be so much taken with the glaring, -doubtful lustre of a jewel or stone, that can look up to a star, -or to the sun itself; or how any should value himself because his -cloth is made of a finer thread; for, how fine soever that thread -may be, it was once no better than the fleece of a sheep, and that -sheep was a sheep still for all its wearing it. They wonder much to -hear that gold, which in itself is so useless a thing, should be -every where so much esteemed that even man, for whom it was made, -and by whom it has its value, should yet be thought of less value -than it is; so that a man of lead, who has no more sense than a -log of wood, and is as bad as he is foolish, should have many wise -and good men serving him, only because he has a great heap of that -metal; and if it should so happen that by some accident, or trick -of law, which does sometimes produce as great changes as chance -itself, all this wealth should pass from the master to the meanest -varlet of his whole family, he himself would very soon become one -of his servants, as if he were a thing that belonged to his wealth, -and so were bound to follow its fortune. But they do much more -admire and detest their folly who, when they see a rich man, though -they neither owe him anything, nor are in any sort obnoxious to -him, yet merely because he is rich, they give him little less than -divine honours; even though they know him to be so covetous and -base-minded that, notwithstanding all his wealth, he will not part -with one farthing of it to them as long as he lives.”--Sir Thomas -More, _Utopia_, book ii. Bishop Burnet’s Translation. - - - XVII. “Thus to Achilles’ arms the maid restored.” - -Untouched “quoad Agamemnona.” The epithet of Homer is ἀπροτίμαστος. -Il. xix. - - - XVIII. “Afonso, Avíz, Nun’ Alvares, &c.” - -The exploits of all these worthies will be found recorded in my -“Ocean Flower.” - - - XIX. “Not thy Fidalgos--withered boughs, I ween.” - -Mina never would suffer an Hidalgo to join his band--himself a -peasant by birth, and thoroughly despising the “higher orders.” -From this general censure of the Fidalgo class, the Conde de -Amarante, the Marquis de Saldanha, the present Conde de Villareal -and Duke of Terceira, who served with distinction in the Peninsular -War, are exceptions. The defence of the bridge of Amarante, -from which the first-named Conde received his title, was a most -brilliant exploit. - - - XXI. “No, not more vain Antæus’ self to pierce.” - -See Pindar’s first Nemeonic, and Lucan, lib. iv. - - “Whose hissing heads struck off, still heads more grim, &c.” - - Non Hydra secto corpore firmior - Vinci dolentem crevit in Herculem. - Horat. _Carm._ iv. 4. - - - XXV. “Oh, sacred source of sympathetic tears!” - -The “δακρυων πηγαι,” the “sacri fontes lachrymarum,” which even -amongst enlightened Heathens seem to have been more regarded than -by many modern Christians. - - - XXVI. “The Imperial Boar.” - -Diocletian. - - - XXIX. “By that _majestic_ Faith, &c.” - -Such is the force of the Saint’s name, Σεβαστὸς. - - - XXXII. “Her heart transpierces, falls, and dies upon his corse.” - - --Καλὸν μοὶ τοῦτο ποιούσῃ θανεῖν. - Φίλη μετ’ αὐτοῦ κείσομαι, φίλου μέτα. - Soph. _Antig._ 72. - -“It will be my glory thus to die. Loving I will lie by the side of -my beloved!” - - - XL. “Dissolved the bands of discipline, the mould - Of duty broke, restored barbarian life.” - - Ναυτικὸν στράτευμ’, ἄναρχον, κᾴπὶ τοῖς κακοῖς θρασὺ, - Χρήσιμον δ’ ὅταν θέλωσιν. - Eurip. _Iphig. in Aul._ 914. - -“An army come in ships, anarchical, and ferocious for evil deeds, -but useful when it pleases.” A very close description of our San -Sebastian heroes--written more than two thousand years since! I -stood in September last upon the Chofre hills, on the very spot -whence Graham directed the fearful cannonade, and subsequently -beneath the branch where our gallant fellows entered, and in the -recollection of their bravery could readily forget the tales of -horror which I heard from Spaniards, who retain a more vivid memory -of misdeeds, than of the most magnificent services. - -I saw with little admiration the mediocre picture of San Sebastian -over the high altar in the cathedral, and when I subsequently -beheld the glorious picture of the same saint by Guido in the -museum at Madrid, I sincerely regretted that the latter is not -substituted for the former--a measure which would be well worthy an -enlightened government. - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto VII. - - -I. - - Close by the wall the grave Salustian held - ’Mongst noblest citizens his fair abode; - And while its dirge the cannon hourly knelled, - And red-limbed Slaughter through the city strode, - And Havoc on the thunder-tempest rode, - One only care Salustian’s bosom knew, - One sole solicitude his mind could load-- - To shield his lovely daughters from the view - Of demons shaped like men who Ismail’s scenes renew! - - -II. - - Fair as the Morn and blooming as the rose, - Graceful as lily waves its slender stem, - Sweet as the breeze that o’er the violet blows, - Pure as the light of Sheba’s diadem! - Soft was her eye, yet sparkled as a gem, - Large, black, and lustrous. Gentle, loved by all-- - The poor devoted kist her garment’s hem; - The rich admired, nor Envy’s shafts could fall - On one so angel-good, of form majestical. - - -III. - - As shines the Moon so Isidora shone - ’Mid circling maze of many a bright compeer; - Or like the Star that heralds in the dawn, - Dimming the lustre of each splendour near. - Her glance could like Heaven’s dewiest sunbeam cheer, - Her smile was music and her step a song, - Her voice as Ariel’s flute was soft and clear. - A glory streamed around her, giant-strong, - As robed in Beauty’s pride she queenly walked along. - - -IV. - - A sister by her side as graceful grew - In opening Woman’s sweetness. Isabel - Seemed as a rosebud gathering ere it blew - All forms of Beauty that divinely fell - From full-blown flower that on the spray so well - Beside her bloomed. ’Neath Isidora’s pure - Example as a mother’s she doth dwell. - Her step was faëry light, her laugh would lure - The coldest heart, her eye more dark with glances Moor. - - -V. - - And Isidora loved a noble youth, - Worthy of _her_--I ween that few be they; - And honour, valour, virtue, manhood, truth, - Combined in Carlos--noble every way. - No step more free than his--none sang the lay - Of Vascongada bold with richer voice. - His, his the sword that, flashing midst the fray, - Had Blanca saved, whose foster-sister’s choice - Gladdened her sire and made the general heart rejoice. - - -VI. - - Oh Love, oh wedded Love, of life the balm, - Deep-anchored safety, haven sure of bliss. - No passion-storms disturb thy blessed calm, - No perfect joy hath Earth to show but this! - Thine for true hearts the chaste yet rapturous kiss, - Thine deathless sympathy through Life’s brief span, - Through cloud and sunshine--thine, when serpents hiss, - The dove’s pure breast. Self mars e’en Friendship’s plan; - And _thou_ the sole true friend and confident of Man! - - -VII. - - Yet long in secret nourished was the flame, - Ere either had declared it--ere ’twas known, - Save by themselves, to aught that bore their name. - The rapturous joy more rapture gave alone. - From eye to eye had Love in glances flown, - In whispered cadence dew delicious shed. - A stolen pressure of the hand, a tone - Unheard save by one ear, a language dead - To all save lovers--strains like this their passion fed:-- - - -Song of the Balcony. - -1. - - Upraise thy dark mantilla’s edge, - And shrink not like a fawn away; - But near the balconcillo’s ledge - Move for Sant’ Anna’s love, I pray; - And bend, oh, bend those glorious eyes - Upon thy slave once more, once more; - For streams no star from yon blue skies - I would as soon adore! - - -2. - - Encantadora! All is hushed; - In deep repose our kinsmen sleep; - Tears from these streaming lids have gushed, - In rapture that your tryst you keep. - Ah! must I never throb more nigh - Than at our casements’ sundered height, - Nor steal this distant glimpse of joy - But in the depth of night! - - -3. - - _Pordiez!_ I would I were a bird, - To glide on air beside thy charms, - To press thy lip at every word, - To fold thee in my longing arms! - Oh, yes, by yon star-spangled, soft, - Unutterable depth of blue, - I swear, as I have murmured oft, - To live and die for you! - - -4. - - Within thy balcon’s dusky sphere - Thou gleamest like an orient pearl; - At times I doubt what form is near, - An angel or my angel girl! - Put coyly forth thy beauteous head, - Lest stars grow dim, and Dian pale; - Nor let thy voice its music shed; - To wake they could not fail! - - -5. - - Upraise thy dark mantilla’s edge, - And shrink not like a fawn away; - But near the balconcillo’s ledge - Move for Sant’ Anna’s love, I pray. - And bend, oh bend, those glorious eyes - Upon thy slave once more, once more; - For streams no star from yon blue skies - I would as soon adore! - - -VIII. - - Yet sighs one more for Isidora’s charms; - Love’s treasure seldom without Envy shines. - And even when Carlos clasps her in his arms - In visioned bliss, another secret pines. - Fate scowling terrible his bulwark mines, - And comes the blow from evilest-omened hand. - Nor Carlos nor his rival yet divines - Their mutual secret. Blindfold thus they stand, - Till Hate in anguished hour whirls high his flaming brand. - - -IX. - - ’Twas starry midnight lone, when Carlos soft - ’Neath Isidora’s open lattice stole, - And gently touching his guitar, as oft, - In strains melodious poured his melting soul. - Even when his deepest cadenced transports roll, - An iron hand his shoulder seized--another - Held high the gleaming dagger, to its goal - Next instant plunged it. Blood the voice doth smother - Of Carlos--he looks up--and sees, oh God, a brother! - - -X. - - ’Twas Jealousy--the scourge of Southern breasts-- - Made an unconscious Cain--for deep and true - Fraternal love their bosoms both invests, - And maniac-like the assassin instant grew, - And tore his hair--and raved--then gibbering flew, - Like Clytemnestra’s son by Furies driven. - Long Carlos crimson lay and dead to view; - With morning’s breath a glimpse of life was given, - And faint his cry was raised for bounteous aid to Heaven. - - -XI. - - What cry too faint to reach the ear of love? - Through Isidora’s casement pierced his moan, - When Morn’s first beam Pyrene rose above, - And roused her faithful heart with plaintive tone. - Another cry--to the casement she hath flown. - Oh, sight of agony--her lover lies - Blood-boltered at her feet! With groan on groan - His breast Apollo-like doth heave and rise, - And ghastly pale his cheek, and glaring white his eyes. - - -XII. - - With one wild shriek of agony she fell - Upon the floor the casement-ledge beside; - And swooned so deep, that but for Isabel - Close within earshot, aidless she had died. - But reached that voice, so piteously it cried, - Salustian’s inmost soul, and called him forth - With Aya, handmaids, servitors, who tried - Full many a remedy in vain:--“Wo worth - “The day that gave, my child, this frantic terror birth!” - - -XIII. - - She oped her eyes, and shuddered slightly--gave - A feeble cry--and uttered Carlos’ name; - Then toward the window glanced, as if to crave - Assistance--sad yet sweet her breathing came-- - Then sobs and tears--then sparkling dewy flame, - Her eyes such passion showed as angels feel. - “Carlos--the window!” she doth now exclaim. - Both eye and tongue love’s mystery reveal-- - And Carlos soon they find--through _her_, too, past the steel! - - -XIV. - - Long Carlos fluttering lay ’twixt life and death, - But what could Isidora’s balm exclude, - Her dewy fingers’ pressure, violet breath, - Her tender care, and sweet solicitude? - And day by day his growing cure she viewed - Spring ’neath her hand like rarest, frailest flower, - Till the fresh hues of health again exude - Through every pore, and young love’s blooming dower - Glows o’er his rounded cheek, like rose for Beauty’s bower. - - -XV. - - And where is he--the Fratricide? Within - A gloomy convent cloistered, gowned, and shorn, - He strives to curb his passion, shrive his sin-- - Against all world-communion deeply sworn. - Yet Isidora’s image oft is borne - Through twilight of the cell before his eye, - Maddening his heart untamed, despairing, lorn; - And though the day of Carlos’ bridal’s nigh, - In hopeless passion’s thrall that monk will changeless die. - - -XVI. - - Now, had they _not_ been brothers of the womb!-- - I saw two emmets fight with dire intent, - As nought could slake their vengeance but the tomb-- - As each the other’s head had joyous rent, - And gnawed like Ugolino. Why thus bent - On slaughter? For a grain of chaff the strife; - I thought of human blood inglorious spent - In private feud for straws with quarrel rife, - And deadly weapons aimed at God’s best gift of life! - - -XVII. - - But, hark! the din of slaughter; hark! the scream - Of virgin innocence and matron shame. - Of Spain’s defenders see the bayonets gleam, - And lust and plunder the defender’s aim! - Yet haply share not all nor most the blame. - A band of ruffians, vilest scum of War, - By deeds inglorious, crimes without a name, - Sully the brightest rays of Victory’s star, - And send their crimes to blaze with Valour’s fame afar. - - -XVIII. - - Frantic with fear for _her_--his only fear, - Rushed Carlos quick to Isidora’s side; - And when the plunderers villain-eyed drew near, - Barred all Salustian’s house, the horde defied, - And with good rifle to their threats replied. - Long was the contest, oft their firelocks flashed, - But Carlos gaily cheered his destined bride; - And, foiled, the band for rapine further dashed, - But swearing dire revenge, their teeth like tigers gnashed. - - -XIX. - - “Away, away, my life, my love, my joy! - “_Querida_, thou must find secure retreat. - “My peace ’twill, by my father’s dust, destroy, - “If e’er thy charms these rabid dogs should meet. - “_Por Díos_, with steel I will the monsters greet!” - With many a gentle word and heavenly smile - Replied his Isidora, angel-sweet. - Now fell the night, and blazed full many a pile, - And Charles for his adored a shelter sought the while. - - -XX. - - To Santiago’s shrine Don Carlos bore - Salustian and his daughters pale with dread. - A mighty crowd hath filled with life the floor, - And loveliest of them all the maid he led. - Ah, lily cheeks and lips that Beauty fled - At peril’s aspect, colourless were there, - And vows were made at many an altar red - With blood from wounded victims of despair, - And through the Temple rose a wailing voice of prayer. - - -XXI. - - Sudden was heard the appalling cry of--“Fire!” - One moment mortal terror hushed each heart; - The next, outburst a shriek of anguish dire, - For flashed the Demon red o’er every part. - The crackling flames across each window dart, - And cast a lurid glare o’er faces pale - With dread, or screaming till their eyeballs start - Wild, frantic, terrible. The bravest quail, - For, ah, so dense the crowd no means of ’scape avail. - - -XXII. - - “Fire” “Fire!”--the cry of agony again - More shrill ascended--“_ay!_” and “_u!_” the scream; - And women clapt their hands, and hoarsely men - Implored, and piercing shrieks of children stream - Far o’er the tumult to the topmost beam - Of that tall Gothic pile. As in some vast - Disastrous shipwreck, howling winds do seem - With roaring waves to struggle fierce and fast, - And cries of drowning men are mingled with the blast. - - -XXIII. - - Then rushed the crowd, by instinct furious borne - Of life preserving, like the Ocean surge - Towards the great entrance. Trodden down and torn - Was every weaker form, and frantic urge - The merciless hale who fly that fiery scourge; - And heaving to and fro they cried to Heaven, - Still vainly seeking instant to emerge, - Till barriers of the sanctuary were riven, - And to the altar-front the trembling priests were driven. - - -XXIV. - - Now onward rolls the mass, till near the door - More fiercely violent grows the maddened throng - With sight of safety. Hundreds strew the floor - Crushed, bruised, and trampled. O’er the weak the strong - Unpitying stride, and dying shrieks the wrong - With vain reproof attest of selfish man. - But Carlos bore like Hercules along - His Isidor with strength that all outran; - Grasped Isabel his waist--the outer wall they scan. - - -XXV. - - “Now had I known,” the grave Salustian cried, - “That thus the stranger would have Spain defended, - I sooner, by my fathers’ bones, had died, - Than Leon’s fate with Albion thus have blended. - For vain the seas of treasure, blood expended, - If fire and sword our homes and hearths assail. - The standard joint I raised, yet now would rend it. - While England’s lions roar, Castile may wail - Her lions mute; ’tis shrieks are borne upon the gale!” - - -XXVI. - - It was a blessed thought--so Carlos deemed; - A chamber high in the Cathedral tower - His love might harbour while ferocious gleamed - The eye of Rapine. Rude for lady’s bower - Was this abode, where oft huge bells of power - Swung loud, but who may choose in scenes like these? - Cloak and sombrero thrown o’er Beauty’s flower - Disguised the form which, ah! too well could please, - And Carlos guided well their path through danger’s seas. - - -XXVII. - - At deepest night the blaze of burning streets - With horrid gleam doth light like Hell the town; - The lurid glare its fit reflection meets, - Where many a stream of blood runs crimson down! - Ferocious yell and savage war-whoop crown - The pile of dire disaster. Anguished screams - Of terror shrill the roaring noises drown. - Shrieks turn to groaning where the bayonet gleams, - And murdered Sleep wakes wild from sanguinary dreams. - - -XXVIII. - - The tower is reached--quivers with rage suppressed - Don Carlos’ lip--Salustian’s cheek is pale, - And pants fair Isidora’s fluttering breast, - Like linnet o’er whose nest kites sharp-beaked sail. - Well might that night of horrors make thee quail, - Daughter of Vascongada! Rent the air, - Till morning dawned nor ceased ev’n then, the wail - Of hopeless Anguish where the voice of Prayer - Was choked, and shriek on shriek gave utterance to Despair. - - -XXIX. - - “Here sit, my children,” grave Salustian said, - “While Spain’s disasters from their primal source - I briefly trace, and ’midst these horrors dread - Relief pursue by patriot discourse; - For at each shriek my voice doth lose its force, - And highest deeds recounting may sustain - The fainting spirit. Ah! my throat is hoarse, - And parched my lips with heat--to speak yet fain-- - Would I had never lived to see this day for Spain! - - -XXX. - - “Five years have past--thou dost remember well, - ’Twas when thou first didst braid thy raven hair, - My Isidor, as now doth Isabel-- - Five wretched years--and both have grown so fair! - Since first this Meteor who the earth doth scare - With blood-red beams--this dire Napoléon-- - O’er Spain began to cast his lurid glare, - Covet her lovely sky and radiant sun, - And try how much could first by treacherous fraud be won. - - -XXXI. - - “Dire was the ruin by Corruption’s hand - Shed on our ancient monarchy. Her men - Were noble still and worthy of the land, - Whose blood hath poured in every mountain-glen - From Calpe to Asturia’s rudest den, - ’Gainst warlike Moor contending. But her Kings - Unworthy most beneath dominion’s ken - To hold so proud a people--timorous things-- - Crawled ’neath a favourite’s sway, or crouched ’neath churchmen’s - wings. - - -XXXII. - - “Corruption fills the Court--the Grandé taints-- - The Judge perverts to more pervert the law, - Gives Demon-forms of hate the guise of Saints, - And Freedom flings to Persecution’s maw. - The Holy Office Hell delighted saw! - Divine Religion! man’s best, purest gift, - Thou only gem that shines without a flaw! - Star, from whose ray withdrawn we chartless drift, - A Gorgon thou wast made, a Moloch spear didst lift! - - -XXXIII. - - “And Man was told to love where forced to hate, - And saw his fairest fields partitioned forth - To Nobles--so miscalled--by robbery great, - Whose phantom title was ancestral worth, - Their own sole merit accident of birth! - Heart-bitterness and worming discontent - Made all the land--the loveliest upon earth-- - In sullen, fierce indifference bide till rent - The Thunder-clouds, supine--and some on Vengeance bent. - - -XXXIV. - - “And patience, Heaven! while I pronounce the name - Of him, the fellest monster of them all-- - Godoy who sold Iberia first to shame, - And through her cold lips forced the cup of gall, - Parted to France the Indian dower whose thrall - Columbus won--even basely dared profane - His monarch’s bed; and shadowing thus our fall, - Napoléon gave a path to Lusitain - O’er our dishonoured soil--those footsteps conquered Spain! - - -XXXV. - - “And secret treaties had the recreant drawn - With Hell’s diplomacy our soil to carve; - And Europe was to have seen ere Aries’ dawn - The traitor’s self the sovereign of Algarve. - Thus rulers traffic while the people starve! - Perchance Gaul’s tyrant mocked him with the lure-- - A double traitor--base design to serve. - Howe’er be this, his legions we endure - Marched to the sister-land that erst expelled the Moor. - - -XXXVI. - - “Trembled blue Tagus when his waters saw - A conqueror come unwounded to his shore; - His curling wave, receding, he doth draw - In violent scorn to where Almada o’er - The Serra lords Lisboa’s towers before. - Her soil that spurned the Invader quakes again, - And gapes athirst for foreign tyrants’ gore. - Indignant Tagus lashes it--in vain-- - Sinks o’er his golden sands, and sighing wears the chain. - - -XXXVII. - - “Where were thy men--where, Lusitain, were they? - Entranced, appalled--with none to lead or guide. - Thy coward Princes fled like hinds away-- - Thy caitiff Nobles crost the Ocean-tide. - No sword in the Invader’s blood was dyed! - Thy Chiefs and Patriarchs basely kist the rod; - Thy sacred banner of Saint George the pride, - Torn from his castled height o’erspread the sod, - And Priests profane declared thy conquerors sent by God! - - -XXXVIII. - - “Spain next a victim! Foulest treachery seized - Her fortress-castles--to the frontier drew - Her Princes whose domestic feuds it pleased - The Invader to foment, as Hell might do! - His legions marched--for patriots then were few-- - To Manzanarés’ banks; our aged King - The Usurper made pronounce his last adieu, - And caged his Heir--a poor and mindless thing-- - But Spain her talons ground, and imped her soaring wing! - - -XXXIX. - - “Oh, many a murder marked that foreign sway, - And many a shriek appalling rent the air.”-- - He ceased an instant--thus while he did say, - Their ears were smote by cries of deep despair. - Rushed Carlos to the door, but held him there - Salustian, Isidora, Isabel. - He shook with passion, till his mistress fair - With gentlest pressure strove his rage to quell; - Then snatched a ghittern--thus he struck the tuneful shell:-- - - -The Tartar Town. - -1. - - ’Tis foully done to wrong the Basque; - No nobler man than he. - A desert-child, a Tartar wild, - He once was more than free. - - -2. - - He ne’er to Tyrants bowed the neck, - Nor stooped to slavish task. - The King of Spain, if he would reign, - Must doff before the Basque. - - -3. - - His lordly Fuéros prove his worth, - Bequeathed from sire to son. - Hidalgos proud, the Vascon crowd - Are noble every one. - - -4. - - No other land the heir-loom grand - Of Vascongada claims. - Each earthly shore must vail before - The nobler Vascon names. - - -5. - - No blood of Christ-beslaughtering Jew, - No Moorish taint we own; - But God’s own gold--the Christians Old, - ’Tis we be they alone! - - -6. - - O’er stately Kings our triumph rings-- - ’Tis thus we spoke to them, - Low kneeling down, or ere the crown - Possest this sparkling gem: - - -7. - - Our bonnets worn, in lordly scorn, - The Monarch kneeling bare:-- - “We great as you, more powerful too, - “Our King we you declare. - - -8. - - “Our rights and liberties to guard, - “We make thee King and Lord, - “To be allowed our Fuéros proud; - “If not--then No’s the word!” - - -9. - - And still when San Sebastian ran - To take the King to task, - Or treat with him for life or limb, - He doffed him to the Basque! - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO VII. - - -For the incidents connected with Napoléon’s invasion of Portugal -and Spain, and for the state of both monarchies at that period, -the reader is referred to Napier’s and Southey’s Histories of the -Peninsular War, and (with the necessary caution in the perusal) to -Thiers’s _Histoire du Consulat et de l’Empire_. I have endeavoured -to adhere as closely to historical truth as the nature of poetical -composition would permit. My residence in both Peninsular -countries, since they were visited either by Southey or Napier, has -enabled me to add some additional particulars, derived from sources -exhibited of late years, which tend to throw fresh light upon these -transactions. - -The Emperor commenced with the invasion of Portugal, for various -reasons, of which the chief was probably that, as there was no -family alliance between France and Portugal, as between France -and Spain, an injustice done to the former country would be less -shocking and startling to the common feelings of mankind. That -Napoléon himself regarded an invasion of Spain in that light is -evident from a remarkable expression which he used in conversation -with his aide-de-camp, Savary:--“I am always afraid of a change -of which I do not see the scope: the best plan of all would be to -avoid a war with Spain, it would be a kind of _Sacrilege_ (he used -the expression); but I shall not shrink from making it.”--Thiers, -_Histoire du Consulat et de l’Empire_. - -When Junot entered Lisbon, the old Queen of Portugal was mad, and -the Prince Regent possessed no vigour of character to supply the -sovereign’s intellectual deficiencies. These were supposed to be -in great measure chargeable upon the superstitious terrors with -which her head had been filled by Dom José Maria de Mello, Bishop -of Algarve and Grand Inquisitor of the Kingdom. Influenced partly -by fear of Junot, and partly by the popular discontent with the -fugitive government, (for the entire Royal family and Court of -Portugal fled to Brazil the moment it was ascertained that Junot -was on his march close to Lisbon, and left the poor miserable -country to shift for itself,) the principal ecclesiastics of the -kingdom, with a subserviency too characteristic of that order -in every country, worshipped the rising sun, and lavished their -despicable incense upon Junot and Napoléon. Cardinal Mendoza, -the Patriarch of Lisbon, issued a pastoral sounding the praises -of “the man whom past ages had been unable to divine, the man of -prodigies, the Great Emperor whom God had called to establish the -happiness of nations!” At the voice of this reverend Prince of -the Church, the bishops and clergy, and in imitation of them the -civil magistrates, recommended it to the faithful and to the people -generally, as a binding civil and religious obligation, to receive -the French cordially and pay obedience to their General. This -language was especially noticeable in the mouth of the Inquisitor -General, since he had always been heard to profess principles of -the most diametrically opposite character. Against the “impious -revolutionists” of France he had been the first to fulminate his -censures. He had sought to re-establish _autos-da-fé_, in all -their original bloody ferocity, under the reign of his august but -crazy penitent. And at the commencement of the revolution he had -seriously proposed the excommunication of the French nation _en -masse_ by the dignified clergy of Portugal. - -The concentration of Junot’s troops around Lisbon made the -reception of the French _régime_ a matter of little difficulty. -But it is not a little curious that the voice of old prophecy was -made to contribute to the same result. The Nostradamus of Portugal, -Bandarra, had predicted these changes as conformable to the will of -God, and the triumph of the imperial eagle of Napoléon might be -read in his prophetic quatrains. Curiously illustrative are these -details of the character of a people of whom it has (with some -exaggeration) been said that one half are waiting for the coming -of Dom Sebastian, and the other half for that of the Messiah. The -prophecy of Bandarra struck the nation with astonishment, and for -a time they regarded it as literally fulfilled. The closeness of -realization was certainly astounding. Gonzalo Annes Bandarra was a -poor cobbler of Trancoso in the district of Guarda, who composed -about the year 1540 some prophecies which have ever since obtained -great reputation in the country, amongst all classes. His _trovas_ -or _redondilhas_ (rhymed quatrains) have been printed several -times, and in 1809 an edition was published at Barcelona. When the -French entered Lisbon in 1807, the event was found by the believers -in prophecy to be not only clearly predicted in Bandarra, but the -Imperial power to be precisely indicated, and the first letter of -the name of Napoléon, in the 17th and 18th quatrains of the third -prophetic dream, which are as follows:-- - - “Ergue-se a Aguia imperial - Com os seus filhos ao rabo, - E com as unhas no cabo - Faz o ninho em Portugal. - Poe um A pernas acima, - Tira--lhe a risca do meio, - E por detraz lha arrima, - Saberas quern te nomeio.” - -“The Imperial Eagle rises, with his children at his tail, and with -his claws before him makes his nest in Portugal. Put an A with -its legs upside down; take away its middle bar, and put this bar -behind it. You will know him I name.” The coarseness of the wording -belongs to the era and to the popular literature of Portugal -generally. The N and the imperial eagle are made out perfectly. The -coincidence does not quite convince, but in the words of the hero -of the Gridiron story, “it is mighty remarkable!” - -Junot proceeded to depose the Royal House of Portugal with the -coolest unconcern, and from the old Palace of the Inquisition, -where he established his Intendance Générale, and upon whose -ruins the new National Theatre has just been raised, he issued a -proclamation declaring that “the dynasty of Braganza had ceased -in Portugal!” Meanwhile Solano, a creature of Godoy’s, who had -accompanied Junot to Lisbon, was active on behalf of his infamous -master, whose obscure birth-place I lately saw at Badajoz, and -substituted in several public acts the name of the King of Spain -for that of the Prince Regent of Portugal. He created a Chief -Judge and a Superintendent of Finances, and both employments -were conferred upon Castilian subjects. Solano was the intimate -confident of the Prince of the Peace, and it is believed that it -was not without superior orders that he proceeded in these hasty -innovations. The future Sovereign of the Algarves, as designated -in the secret treaty with Napoléon, was so impatient to reign on -his own account that, if the reports which prevailed at the period -are to be believed, dollars were struck at the Madrid mint, bearing -upon one side the head of Godoy with the legend _Emmanuel primus -Algarviorum dux_, and on the other the ancient arms of the kingdom -of Algarve. - -Shortly after his arrival Junot proceeded, as he phrased it, -“inaugurer avec éclat à Lisbonne le drapeau tricolore français.” -The Portuguese had previously received them as friends: this -outrage opened their eyes. It was on a Sunday; 6,000 men of all -arms were assembled in the great square of the Rocio, to be -reviewed by the General. Mid-day sounded. A salvo of artillery -resounded from the Castle of St. George, originally built by the -Moors. Every eye was turned towards these ancient walls, which -topple over the city somewhat like the Calton Hill at Edinburgh. -In an instant was seen to fall the standard of Portugal which -floated before on the loftiest tower of the Castle, while its -place was taken in another instant by a foreign flag surmounted -by the imperial eagle! To describe the outraged feelings of the -Portuguese, to paint their indignation and horror, is impossible. -Their loyalty and their national pride are almost the only virtues -which they retain. Their southern hatred was excited to terrific -intensity. Conceive what would be the feelings of veteran warriors, -who have dragged out the remnant of an existence spared by the -missiles and casualties of war, to see the flag beneath which -their blood has flowed insulted by its enemies. Some idea may -then be formed of the grief and rage which took possession of the -people of Lisbon. A torrent of bitterness deluged their souls. The -sacred standard which was thus supplanted was consecrated alike -by religious feelings and by secular remembrances of glory. It -had been given, according to popular belief, by Christ himself to -Afonso Henriques, the founder of the Monarchy, impressed by the -Redeemer with the marks of his Passion, for the five shields of the -conquered Moorish kings displayed on the Quinas were likewise said -to be typical of the Sacred Wounds, and with this other _labarum_ -their new Constantine had been told to “go forth and conquer.” -“_Death to the French!_” was soon the cry, but the cannon and -paraded soldiery of Junot suppressed the insurrectionary movement. - -The earthquake, stated in the text to have occurred at the period -of the French entry into Lisbon, is strictly historical. “Le -lendemain de l’entrée des Français on éprouva dans Lisbonne une -légère secousse de tremblement de terre, qui fit monter la mer -sur les quais.” (Foy, _Hist. Guerre. Pénins._ liv. ii.) Junot -wrote thus impiously concerning this event to the Minister of War, -Clarke. “Les dieux sont pour nous; j’en tiens l’augure de ce, que -le tremblement de terre ne nous a annoncé que leur puissance sans -nous faire de mal!” - -Napoléon’s treatment of Spain was not characterized by the same -daring recklessness, but by what must be regarded as unprincipled -profligacy. One of his own generals, Baron Foy, calls the Spanish -invasion “une traîtreuse usurpation.”--_Hist. Guerre. Pénins._ liv. -ii. - -A Spanish army entered Portugal under Junot in 1807, with absurd -and astounding ignorance mistaking the English for enemies, -and the French for friends, to both Peninsular countries. The -Marquis del Socorro, who commanded this army, was the tool of the -infamous Godoy and the French, and it is thus he spoke of us in the -proclamation which he issued at Oporto. He declared his object to -be “de vous délivrer de la perfide domination et de la politique -ambitieuse des Anglais. * * Tous ensemble, nous vengerons les -outrages que la férocité traîtresse des Anglais a faits à toutes -les nations de l’Europe!”--Foy, _Histoire Guerre. Pénins._ liv. ii. -_pièces justificatives_. - -The unsuspected testimony of Foy leaves the fearful iniquity of -Napoléon’s seizure of the principal fortresses of Spain beyond -dispute. “Il y eut,” says he, “dans les moyens par lesquels on -s’en rendit maître, un mélange de l’astuce des faibles et de -l’arrogance des forts. On n’employa que la ruse pour Pampelune -et Saint-Sébastien.” (liv. iii.) The following is his detailed -account of the seizure of these several fortresses:--The castle -of Montjuic at Barcelona was too difficult of approach for the -troops to reach it without being perceived. Duhesme went to the -Count d’Ezpeleta, Captain-General of the province: “My soldiers -occupy your citadel,” said he. “Open to me this instant the gates -of Montjuic; for the Emperor Napoléon has ordered me to place a -garrison in your fortresses. If you hesitate, I declare war against -Spain, and you will be responsible for the torrents of blood which -your resistance will have caused to flow.” The name of Napoléon -produced its accustomed effect. The Spanish General was aged and -timid, and the only instruction which his government had given him -was to avoid taking any step which might embroil them with France. -He resigned the keys of Montjuic, and General Duhesme became master -of Catalonia. Thus fell without striking a blow, into the power -of France, the largest city of the Spanish monarchy--a city which -a century before had struggled single-handed, after all Spain had -submitted, against the power of Louis XIV. - -The gates of the fortress of Pamplona had been opened to the French -general Darmagnac as to a friend. But the military authority -remained in the hands of the Viceroy, Marquis de Valle-Santoro, -and the volunteer battalion of Tarragona, 700 men strong, was -lying in the citadel, and performed the military service of the -place. Since Cardinal Cisneros, regent of Castile, dismantled all -the strong places of Navarre, with the exception of its capital, -the received opinion has been that he who commands in Pamplona is -master of the province. To command in Pamplona, it is requisite to -obtain possession of the citadel. This fortress, built by Philip -II., contains within it extensive magazines for munitions of war -and mouth, and might hold out for an indefinite period. The French -soldiers came on fixed days, in undress and unarmed, to receive -their provisions in the interior of the citadel. The Spanish -troops maintained a strict guard upon these occasions, and never -failed to have the drawbridge raised during the entire time that -the distribution lasted. During the night of the 15th February, -1808, Darmagnac collected 100 grenadiers at his lodgings, which -he had taken “_non sans dessein_,” says Foy, on the esplanade -which separates the town from the citadel. They entered their -general’s residence with their firelocks and cartouches, one after -the other, in profound silence. At seven o’clock on the morning -of the 16th, sixty men went to receive their provisions as usual, -but were commanded by an officer of intelligence and daring named -Robert. Under pretext of waiting for the quarter-master, the men -stopt, some of them on the drawbridge and some beyond it. The -drawbridge was thus prevented from being raised. It rained; and -some of them entered the guard-house, as it were to escape from -the shower. “_A un signal donné_,” (says Foy) they leapt upon the -arms of the guard, where they lay ranged at one side; and the -two sentinels were immediately disarmed. The Spaniards could not -extricate themselves from the hands of the French, who filled the -guard-house. Those who made any resistance were beat with the -butt-ends of muskets. By this time arrived the grenadiers who had -been lying in ambuscade at the general’s house. They proceeded -straight to a bastion of 15 guns, directed on the entrance to -the ditch. The forty-seventh French battalion, quartered not -far distant, followed close on the grenadiers. The rampart was -covered with Frenchmen, before the Spanish garrison, shut up -in their _casernes_, had even thought of putting themselves on -their defence. Darmagnac announced to the Viceroy and the Council -of Navarre that, as he would probably have some stay to make in -Pamplona, he had been obliged for the security of his troops to -introduce into the citadel a battalion which would do duty there -in concert with the national garrison--“a slight change, he added, -which, instead of altering the good understanding between, them, -should only be regarded as a tie the more between two reciprocally -faithful allies!” - -Ties of a similar character became established daily. Thouvenot, -General of Brigade, had been sent to San Sebastian, with a -commission to assemble in one dépôt the soldiers who arrived from -France on their way to join their respective corps in Spain. “This -dépôt (concludes Foy) becoming presently very numerous found -itself in possession of the place, without the detachments of -the Spanish regiments of the King and of Africa, who formed the -garrison, perceiving it. It is thus that the French became masters -of Figuera, Barcelona, Pamplona, and San Sebastian; and then their -military operations in the Peninsula became placed on a reasonable -basis! The mask was thrown off, the interested observers whom Spain -had received as allies, for a time dissembled their projects, but -they no longer sought to conceal the means which they adopted for -their accomplishment.”--_Hist. Guerre. Pénins._ liv. iii. - -Yet these are the events which Thiers, in his _Histoire du Consulat -et de l’Empire_, has the coolness to describe, without one word of -reprobation, censure, or comment, in the following words: - -“As soon as the French troops crossed the frontiers they were -quartered at Saint Sebastian, Pampeluna, Rosas, Figueras, and -Barcelona.” - -Of the character and deeds of Godoy, the chief actor in these -transactions, the following brief but on the whole satisfactory -sketch is given by Thiers:-- - -“This man, whom an extraordinary degree of favour had raised up -to the supreme power in Spain, governed the state as an absolute -master for more than ten years; he had confirmed his power -by filling the government offices with his creatures. He had -become the dispenser of every favour and every boon, and was so -completely the medium of the king’s decisions, that the monarch -answered to every applicant: ‘Call upon Emanuel,’--the prince -being named Emanuel Godoy. This supreme authority had stirred up -against him a general detestation, which had counterbalanced the -favour he enjoyed, because he had of course committed many acts -of injustice in building up his power. The Prince of Asturias was -in the cabinet; he likewise had to complain of the favourite’s -haughtiness, the Prince of Peace not fearing to irritate him by -exhibiting the source of a despotic sway which laid its burden even -on the successor to the crown. The Prince of Asturias became his -enemy, and lost no opportunity of contriving his destruction, in -which object he was encouraged by the opinion of the people. - -“On every side murmurs rose against the Prince of Peace; his -influence began to decline; and he was soon driven to his last and -lowest shifts to prop it up. _He had long since felt the necessity -of consolidating his power, and had striven by every art to acquire -the friendship of France._ His enemies availed themselves of -this circumstance to injure him, and charged him with treachery; -asserted that he wanted to sell Spain to France, and had reduced -her already to one of those vice-royalties obedient to the Emperor. - -“On the other hand (so mutable and various is the public mind) they -attributed to France whatever evil afflicted Spain, and accused -her of supporting the Prince of Peace. This state of things every -day produced fresh bickerings between the partisans of the rival -princes; the counsels of the Prince Royal were not always prudent, -and he was induced by the aversion of the people towards his -powerful opponent to endeavour to quell the ambition of the Prince -of Peace by making him the victim of his immoderate thirst for -power. The favourite, foreseeing the coming catastrophe, and all -Spain in arms to crush and overthrow him, gave himself up for lost, -when the French troops advanced into the Spanish territory, to -execute the treaty of Fontainebleau, _of which he alone possessed -the secret, and which was not even signed_.” - -The Basque glories, which I have recorded in the ballad of “The -Tartar Town,” are all strictly historical. The Basque dialect was -once spoken all over Spain, and is nearly identical with the Tartar -language. I use this supposed Tartar origin for poetical purposes. -Ever since the death of Ferdinand VII., the Basque _fueros_ have -been a constant bone of contention. Espartero abolished, but -Narvaez partially restored them. The only _fueros_ now retained are -an exemption from duty upon stamps, salt, and tobacco. - - - III. “A glory streamed around her, giant-strong.” - -This stanza has been inspired by Murillo’s _Immaculate -Conceptions_, on whose wonderful beauties I have gazed for days at -Seville and Madrid. - - - IV. “Seemed as a rosebud gathering ere it blew - All forms of Beauty.” - - Als eine blume zeigt sie sich der welt; - Zum muster wuchs das schöne bild empor. - Göthe, “_Miedings Tod._” - -“She blossoms to the world like a flower; her beautiful form grows -up to be a pattern.” - - - VI. “Oh Love, oh wedded Love, of life the balm!” - -“You have reason to commend that excellent institution * * the -faithful nuptial union of man and wife that was first instituted.” -(Bacon, _New Atlantis_.) The same sentiments are still more nobly -expressed in Milton’s _Tetrachordon_ and _Doctrine and Discipline -of Divorce_, where the poet, unshackled by his prose fetters, is -still a poet, glowing with fancy and with rare sublimity, and has -given expression to nobler sentiments on chaste love than any other -writer, ancient or modern. - - - VII. “The rapturous joy more rapture gave alone.” - - Tu mihi sola places; nec jam, te præter, in urbe - Formosa est oculis ulla puella meis. - Atque utinam posses uni mihi bella videri. - Tibul. 1. iv. 13. - - “A stolen pressure of the hand, a tone - Unheard save by one ear.” - - Fallendique vias mille ministrat Amor! - Tibul. 1. iv. 6. - - “A language dead to all save lovers.” - - O quanta dulce imagen, - Quantas tiernas palabras - Alli diré, que el labio - Quiere decir, y calla. - Cienfuegos. - - - “And bend, oh bend those glorious eyes - Upon thy slave once more, once more.” - - Medid el ayre de unos bellos ojos, - Y me direys del cielo al suelo el trecho. - Lope de Vega, _Angelica_, iii. - - - X. “Like Clytemnestra’s son by Furies driven.” - - ----“Ereptæ magno inflammatus amore - Conjugis, et scelerum furiis agitatus Orestes.” - Virg. _Æn._ iii. 330. - - Ὅμως δὲ φεῦγε, μηδὲ μαλθακὸς γένῃ· - Ἐλῶσι γάρ σε καὶ δι’ ἠπείρου μακρᾶς - Βεβῶτ’ ἀνατεὶ τὴν πλανοστιβῆ χθόνα, - Ὑπέρ τε πόντον, καὶ περιῤῥύτας πόλεις. - Æschyl. _Eumen._ 74. - -“Fly! nor inert become. For they (the Furies) shall pursue -thee through the long continent, passing untired through the -wanderer-trodden earth, through the sea, and the sea-girt cities!” - - - XIII. --“Through her, too, passed the steel!” - - Cujus animam gementem * * - Pertransivit gladius! - ANTIPHONAR. ROM. “_Stabat Mater._” - - - XVI. “As each the other’s head had joyous rent, - And gnawed like Ugolino.” - - Quandò ebbe detto ciò, con gli occhi torti - Riprese il teschio misero co’ denti, - Che furo all’ osso, come d’un can forti. - Dante, _Inferno_, c. xxx. - - - XVII. “Of Spain’s defenders see the bayonets gleam, - And lust and plunder the defenders’ aim!” - - Wir zogen in feindes land hinein, - Dem freunde sollt’s nicht viel besser seyn. - Göthe, “_Ich hab’ mein sach_.” - -“We marched into the enemy’s land; our friends they fared no -better.” - - - XXVII. “And murdered sleep wakes wild from sanguinary dreams.” - - --φόβος γὰρ ἀνθ’ ὕπνου παραστατεῖ, - Τὸ μὴ βεβαίως βλέφαρα συμβαλεῖν ὕπνῳ. - Æschyl. _Agamem._ 14. - -“For Fear doth stand me in the place of sleep, lest closely I shut -my eye-lids.” - - - XXIX. “Spain’s disasters from their primal source.” - - Dii multa neglecti dederunt - Hesperiæ mala luctuosæ. - Horat. _Carm._ iii. 6. - - - XXXII. “The judge perverts to more pervert the law.” - -“They heard sworn judges of the law adjudge, upon such grounds -and reasons as every stander-by was able to swear was not -law.”--Clarendon, _Hist. Great Rebel._ i. - - “Gives Demon-forms of hate the guise of saints.” - -“Cette question curieuse--savoir, s’il est permis aux jesuites de -tuer les jansenistes!”--Pascal, _Lettres Provinciales_, tome i. - - - XXXII. “The Holy Office Hell delighted saw!” - -The operation of the Spanish Inquisition in an intellectual -point of view may be inferred from the character of the Index -Expurgatorius which was affixed in the different churches. On these -prohibitory lists, by the side of the great names of Montesquieu, -Robertson, and Filangieri were to be found the titles of the -filthiest French romances. - - - XXXIII. “In sullen, fierce indifference bide till rent - The thunder-clouds, supine--and some on Vengeance bent.” - - Ἀλλ’ ὦ πατρῷα γῆ, θεοί τ’ ἐπόψιοι, - Τίσασθε, τίσασθ’ ἀλλὰ τῷ χρόνῳ ποτε. - Soph. _Philoct._ 1040. - -“But, oh father-land and all-seeing Gods! avenge, avenge at length -in fitting time!” It may here be seen how unfounded is the claim of -the Germans to the originality of their phrase “Vaterland.” - - - XXXV. “And secret treaties had the recreant drawn - With Hell’s diplomacy our soil to carve.” - - O embajadores, puros majaderos! - Que si los reyes quieren engañar, - Comienzan por nosotros los primeros. - Diego de Mendoza. - -“Oh Ambassadors, mere utterers of silly speeches! If Kings wish -to deceive, they begin by deceiving us the first!” So writes the -renowned Mendoza to his brother-diplomatist, Zuñiga. Mendoza, one -of the most illustrious of the political, military, and literary -worthies of Old Spain, was Ambassador for Charles V. to Rome, and -is still more celebrated as the author of _Lazarillo de Tormes_. - -“Entant que souverain, s’il parle selon sa pensée, il vous dira, -j’observerai le traité de paix, pendant que le bien de mon royaume -le demandera; je me moquerai de mon serment, des que la maxime de -l’état le voudra.”--Bayle, _Dict. Hist. et Crit. art. Agesilaus_. - - - XXXVI. “His curling wave receding,” &c. - - Vidimus flavum Tiberim retortis, &c.--Horat. _Carm._ i. 2. - - ----Guadiana - Atraz tornou as ondas de medroso: - Correo ao mar o Tejo duvidoso. - Camóens, _Lus._ iv. 28. - - “Sinks o’er his golden sands, and sighing wears the chain.” - - ----Amnis aurifer Tagus. - Catul. xxvii. - - - XXXVII. “And Priests profane declared thy conquerors sent by God!” - - Dizei-lhe que tambem dos Portuguezes - Alguns traidores houve algumas vezes. - Camóens, _Lus._ iv. 33. - -I have had the satisfaction of visiting within the past year all -the scenes which form the historical portion of this Canto--San -Sebastian, Madrid, Badajoz the birth-place of Godoy, Lisbon, -Almeda, and a score of other localities consecrated by heroic or -saddening recollections. The toils of my pilgrimage will have -been amply repaid, if I have derived some inspiration from the -_genius loci_. - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto VIII. - - -I. - - With many a bitter thought and heavy sigh, - The grave Salustian his discourse resumed:-- - “Iberia fell, my children--but her eye - No pomp of battle, no big war illumed. - ’Twas fraud and treason her destruction doomed! - France came as an ally--her Lares seized-- - The joy-pealed cannon soon in hatred boomed. - And reckless Murat well his master pleased, - His foul behests fulfilled, his rapine-thirst appeased. - - -II. - - “But vengeance ’gainst Godoy the people swore, - Who counselled Carlos from his realm to fly, - And sought in luxury on a foreign shore - The fruits of his portentous sway to enjoy. - Aranjuez saw them burning to destroy! - Shivering in hideous fright, like beast of prey, - Two days, two nights, nor food nor drink Godoy - Partook, till in his den its wolfish bay - The thronging city howled--they stoned him where he lay! - - -III. - - “And mangled, bruised, and torn, from imminent verge - Of death the Guard released him;--Carlos weak - The crown resigned--grey hairs the victim urge, - And, feebler still, Fernando strove to wreak - His feuds upon a throne, where basely meek - Full soon as fawning spaniel he doth woo - The Gaulish tiger--all that France could seek - Too little for his willing hand to do-- - All contumelies for him, the Seventh Fernán, too few! - - -IV. - - “Oh galling, dismal servitude! The sword - Which mighty Carlos at Pavía won - The puny Ferdinand to France restored, - While all through Spain the withering tidings run; - And few believe what patriot ears doth stun. - Wrenched from our armouries the trophy proud, - Which proved how Franks of old must Spaniards shun; - And Altemira voiced our shame aloud: - “The sword of Francis given to noblest hands” he vowed! - - -V. - - “But vain each sacrifice--each base compliance - Still prompted France to urge ignobler claims, - For Spain not yet had raised her proud defiance, - And in Fernando’s youth reposed her aims. - Fernando--he but gorged affronts and shames! - The worshipped Heir of all her line of Kings - His bannered Lion to a genet tames, - Follows his aged sire to France, and flings - Iberia’s crown to earth beneath the Usurper’s wings! - - -VI. - - “Oh, wretched mockery of the forms of State, - Oh, farce of Royalty to choke the town! - The sire to-day submits his brow to Fate, - The son to-morrow yieldeth too his crown; - The sire resumes it ’neath Napoléon’s frown, - Again to-morrow to resign its cares-- - Is’t not, then just--how just! that, thus laid down, - The Tyrant’s creature now the bauble wears? - The Father lauds the choice--the Son his ardour shares. - - -VII. - - “And both implored of Spaniards to obey - With cordial loyalty the Kingling given, - And both with impious tongue blaspheming say - The usurping dynasty is blest of Heaven! - But Spaniards may not thus be bargain-driven. - Sudden arose the land in all its might; - Sudden its chains like spider-threads were riven. - Too long its slumber--too profound the night; - And when the Nation woke, ’twas in a glare of light! - - -VIII. - - “Oh, Madrileños, generous, dauntless hearts, - Who fell upon that glorious May-lit morn, - Vain is the tear that from the eye-lid starts - At thought of death-wounds all heroic borne, - For Freedom’s blazon doth your biers adorn! - Your blood more potent than Hyantian seed - Sprung arméd men still fiercer death to scorn - Than Thebæ saw. Incomparable deed! - Ye braved the Lion’s roar--your wounds Iberia freed. - - -IX. - - “For though the sabre clove, the charger trod, - The scattering grape-shot mowed your dense array, - Daïz, Velarde gave their souls to God - In no unprospering cause that gallant day! - If hundred martyrs perished in the fray, - ’Twas myriad men to rouse through prostrate Spain. - Not Murat’s arm could bend her to obey. - Judicial murder bared the knife in vain-- - The priestly rite denied--the unoffending slain! - - -X. - - “Asturia first and noblest raised the cry-- - Cantabria still untamed the yoke to bear - Our own Biscaya sees with Baston vie-- - Oviédo’s lightning flies to Santandér. - It wakes Galicia, kindling Leon’s air. - Castile, unconquered Aragon, Navarre, - The standard of revolt successive bear. - Valencian, Catalan, and And’luz far - The cry devoted raise: ‘Against the Invader War!’ - - -XI. - - “And lightning fell, ’twas said, upon the shrine - Of Guadalupe within the fatal hour - That saw the last of Leon’s Royal line - Retire to France, and own the Usurper’s power. - In Covadonga, where Mafoma’s flower - Pelayo slaughtered, drops of sweat were seen - Upon the face of Her who stood our tower - In battle; Compostella’s tomb a din - Of arms gave forth, Saint James proclaiming we should win! - - -XII. - - “Thus spoke the general voice--thus Spain believed, - And, Heaven and Earth approving, rushed to arms. - The web of Tyranny was swift unweaved, - The land was soon o’erspread by War’s alarms; - For Freedom’s fire once lit intensely charms! - But terrible at first in dire excess - Rude license many a timid patriot harms. - If perished tyrant-tools yet, ah, not less - Good men, too, slaughtered fell in butchery’s helplessness. - - -XIII. - - “’Twas then the Asturian seniors crost the sea, - And I amongst the number, as ye know, - To Albion’s glorious Island of the free, - Her aid demanding ’gainst the general foe. - And grand and mighty was the enthusiast flow - From brave and generous hearts we witnessed there. - Our strife forgot, our feuds aside we throw, - Like ancient warriors after battle share - The social rite, and war combined ’gainst France declare. - - -XIV. - - “But Spain would first her might unaided try, - And arms and subsidy alone we sought; - With pain Britannia curbed her spirit high, - But doughtiest weapons to the strife we brought. - Our earlier efforts in the conflict nought - Availed us--France her legions marshalled well. - Undisciplined our valour marvels wrought; - But ’gainst Gaul’s serried phalanx to rebel - Was no light peasant’s task, and hundreds fighting fell. - - -XV. - - “Oh, wondrous power of Discipline in war! - Spain’s men despised the conscript boys of France; - Iberia’s sons were stronger, statelier far, - More powerful arm to arm to wield the lance. - But when untrained, disordered they advance, - The unbroken, slender column mows them down. - ’Tis thus wild horses o’er the Pampas prance, - The lasso by the light-limbed rider’s thrown, - The strong steed flung to earth his victor hand must own. - - -XVI. - - “Joy to Valencia! Loud her praise be sung, - Where first the stern Invader was repelled. - In vain from Hell the assassin Calvo sprung, - In vain her Chiefs in dire subjection held. - Soon ’gainst his traitorous vengeance they rebelled. - His strangled carcase on Domingo’s plain, - His severed arm that many a victim felled, - Inscribed with his foul deeds--relentless Cain-- - Proclaim that murderous fiends no more dishonour Spain. - - -XVII. - - “Joy to Valencia! From her leaguered wall, - Full valiantly defended, Moncey flies. - His shattered legions into fragments fall, - So well her grape and musketry she plies; - And torn his summons to surrender lies. - This--this her answer:--‘We have sworn beneath - ‘Our country’s ruins buried, ere shall rise, - ‘A foreign standard here, to yield our breath,’ - And France her flag withdrew all dark with hues of death. - - -XVIII. - - “In Santandér Luarca’s mitred head-- - Apostle pure--the patriot movement guides; - Priest, peasant, noble gallantly he led, - But, ah, Besaya’s torrent yields its sides; - The Frenchman through the conquered city rides. - Palencia bows her head--Valladolíd - Gives hostages; her might the Gaul derides. - And Torquemada many a peasant-Cid - Sees ’neath French sabres fall her flaming towers amid. - - -XIX. - - “Oh, ruthless grasp of the Invader’s hand! - Yet not for this shall Spain his sceptre own. - In vain _Te Deums_ swell through all the land, - In vain allegiance forced sustains his throne. - Though rebels fall, rebellion hath not flown! - Intrusive, throneless, crownless, mocking King, - No Monarch reigneth save o’er hearts alone! - A Tyrant sent thee, poor and bodiless thing, - But ne’er to rule in Spain--for flight prepare thy wing! - - -XX. - - “Unconquered Zaragoza shuts her gates; - No fortress her’s, and scarce a circling wall. - Enough that from her soul the foe she hates, - And ’neath her ruined towers hath sworn to fall, - Or ere she live a foreign tyrant’s thrall. - Sublime devotion! Palafox prepares - The proud defence. His gallant soldiers all - Obey his voice: ‘Who loves me with me shares - ‘The city’s doom!’ Till death they guard their lion-lairs. - - -XXI. - - “And many a rampart raised the citizens, - Their puny wall with bristling men defending; - And Tio Jorge and Marin from their dens - Emerge their energies plebeian lending. - On many a dire assault her efforts spending - By Carmen and Portillo, still repelled, - France hurls her shells the town terrific rending. - The Moorish Cosso’s blown in air, and yelled - Is many a dying shriek, but still the rampart’s held. - - -XXII. - - “Engracia’s stormed--the summons to despair - Is oft repeated but as oft disdained. - Though Zaragoza burn--though tortures tear, - Her vigorous arms shall ne’er by France be chained! - The foe hath entered and the Cosso gained; - But desperate is the fight which there doth rage. - Francisco’s convent burns, yet death fires rained - More fiercely glare--such war did man ne’er wage. - Beside Numantine fame ’twill sound through many an age! - - -XXIII. - - “Within the Cosso’s wide and central street - The foemen fierce contend from side to side. - From roof and window hostile volleys meet; - Each house a fortress, where assault is tried - In vain--the very women far and wide - Rain household gear and scalding water down. - The black and shattered walls with blood are dyed. - The dead in heaps putrescent grimly frown; - And pestilence doth threat the death-devoted town. - - -XXIV. - - “In every street are rival batteries placed. - Entrenched behind a bulwark of the slain, - See where yon Zaragozan death has faced, - Resolved a cannon of the Frank to gain. - ’Neath corse-heaped covert he hath passed a chain - Round the huge gun--its end his comrades take-- - Their lusty sinews pull with might and main-- - The monster moves--but, ah, the chain doth break; - Yet soon as Night doth fall the prize their own they make. - - -XXV. - - “Terrific sight--the hospital is fired, - And maniacs issue from the blazing walls; - Gibbering and mouthing ’mongst the soldiers tired, - Even more than War their screaming wild appals. - Some frantic laugh while of their number falls - A victim smote--some mope--some mutterings blend; - Some dance and sing amid the hissing balls, - Some with hyæna yells the welkin rend, - And drivelling idiots cry while warriors fierce contend. - - -XXVI. - - “Glorious resistance! See--the French recede; - To far Pamplona o’er the plain they pass. - Heroic town! not vainly thou dost bleed, - For thou art free, though all one bruiséd mass. - No monument of marble or of brass - Can rival, sufferer, thy eternal fame! - Nor ’mongst thy patriots be forgotten Sass, - The hero-priest who to the dying came - Now with the Host, and now against the foe took aim! - - -XXVII. - - “Nor dauntless Manuela be unsung, - Who when her townsmen from the battery fled, - With burning linstock to the rampart sprung, - And mounting on the cannon vowed till dead - Ne’er through the siege to leave its Gorgon head. - Penthesiléa not more beautiful! - Nor thou, Burita, sprung from noblest bed, - And delicate as fair--of courage full-- - ’Mid showering shot and shell, as Hebe bountiful! - - -XXVIII. - - “And, gallant Palafox, let bright-eyed Fame - Thy praise resound, whom nought could turn or bend; - For when no mandate but the word of shame - ‘Capitulation!’ France would deign to send, - ‘War to the knife!’ thy answer straight was penned. - Worthy was all the heroic times of old. - And monks were seen a warlike arm to lend, - And cloistered sisters the cartouche to mould. - Though History rend each page, this, this shall be enrolled! - - -XXIX. - - “Her tercios Aragon, the Catalan - His bold Somátenés equipped for war. - Spain’s arméd peasants all her fields o’erran, - But strife amongst the chiefs too oft a bar, - And Valour weak indiscipline doth mar. - At Rio Seco see the furious charge - Of France’s chivalry like Aias’ car - Mow thousands down beside the streamlet’s marge, - While o’er the affrighted plain their broken lines enlarge. - - -XXX. - - “But Vengeance comes! Beneath Morena’s shade, - At Baylen see on Andaluzan plains - Where sinks Dupont by olive-circled glade - And deep ravine where blood like water rains, - And wears his mighty host dishonouring chains. - Castaños, Reding, bright your laurels shine, - While prostrate ’neath your arm the Gaul remains; - But, ah, perfidious snares your glory mine, - And butchery stains the steel which Conquest lit divine, - - -XXXI. - - “See--see, the Intrusive King o’er Ebro flies, - In pale affright by Baylen’s victory driven; - But tall Pyrene’s bulwarks o’er him rise, - A shield impregnable to despots given. - Dissolve, dissolve that towering rampart, Heaven! - And aid our vengeful spear to hurl him back. - By Spain’s right arm be Spain’s rude fetters riven. - Our warriors move--of zeal there is no lack. - The Invaders feel their ire, like gathering thunder black. - - -XXXII. - - “And hangs upon their skirt with fierce annoy - The mountain Guerrillero tiger-springing, - The Chapelchurri burning to destroy, - From heights around Bilbaö vengeance winging, - The Chapelgorri with his musket ringing, - A dearer Chacolin--the Frenchman’s blood-- - Thirsting to pour, the rich libation flinging - O’er crag and spray--their dainty flesh the food - Of vulture screaming fierce, and kite, and raven’s brood. - - -XXXIII. - - “But weak the impulse, uncombined the assault; - Divisions, jealousies, our councils blight. - Too oft on Victory’s field our leaders halt, - And leave unplucked the fruit that gleams in sight: - Oh, that our men had Chiefs to lead them right. - In vain! France rallies through the land once more. - Our peasant warriors gather to the fight, - But compact serried legions gall them sore. - The soiled Escorial holds the Usurper as before! - - -XXXIV. - - “To Albion now Hesperia turns her eyes; - Though bloodshot all and weeping, proud her gaze; - For still her spirit doth unconquered rise, - And still she struggles to the world’s amaze. - Swift Albion answers to the call we raise, - And sends to aid our arms a gallant host. - Around her swords the light triumphant plays - Of many a field where perished Gallia’s boast, - And see her fleet descend on Lusitania’s coast. - - -XXXV. - - “For vain, too, there hath Gaul her efforts found. - Our kinsmen scorn to wear a foreign chain. - Indignantly they rise their Tyrants round, - And bear the Freeman’s threatening port, like Spain. - But feeble, too, the bands of Lusitain - ’Gainst veteran cohorts battling all through life. - Great Arthur comes from England to maintain - Thy contest, Liberty. With ardour rife - His warriors reach the shore, and gird them for the strife. - - -XXXVI. - - “Upon thy beauteous banks, Mondégo, where - The cry of murdered Iñez lingers still, - And faithful Pedro’s grief the breeze doth bear - In many a sigh from fair Coimbra’s hill, - There Albion’s heroes land. Rude blasts and chill - Blow from the Atlantic. On Boarcos’ crags - Full many a soldier perisheth. But will - Indomitable their’s--nor Lusia lags; - Priest, student, peasant, crowd ’neath azure-crimson flags. - - -XXXVII. - - “Hark to the footfall fierce and measured tread - Of Britain’s legions o’er the affrighted ground, - While martial music’s stirring voice is shed, - Enthusiast Valour waking at the sound. - Trombone and cornet make the heart to bound, - The deep bassoon and clarion shrill afar - Their echoes send--the mellow horn around - Gives softer notes, ring fifes their merry bar, - And rolls the doubling drum to stimulate the War. - - -XXXVIII. - - “Roriça, hail! Vimièiro, blest thy sod! - For there the might of France is hurled to dust. - The robber-host is victory-smote by God. - Junot retires with all his spoils unjust, - But sated once for aye his gory lust! - And other fields by England’s might are tried, - In Heaven and in her arm reposing trust. - Corunna’s heights see crushed the Gaulish pride, - But sad the victory gained where Moore heroic died. - - -XXXIX. - - “And rushed great Arthur to the field again, - And conquest o’er his helm unceasing played. - On many a dire, tremendous battle plain - The eagle-crest of Gallia low he laid, - The arms allied in all triumphant made. - My soul doth grow more tranquil--blame him not, - If ruffian-soldiers’ deeds his laurels shade; - Too oft in Victory justice is forgot, - Too oft are arméd men like fiends when passion’s hot. - - -XL. - - “Oh Death in battle! Glory thou art called, - When stirred the fervent blood to seething strife; - But Man prefers thee peaceful coffined, palled, - And shudders unprepared to yield The Life; - For, oh, with terror the dark shore is rife! - Who in precipitate Death would choose to miss - The pillow tended by the loving wife, - The dying hand stretched forth to her to kiss, - The last words whispered low, surviving Memory’s bliss! - - -XLI. - - “That word recalls, my girls, your mother dead, - And brings to these weak eyes a sacred tear. - Belov’d Juana! round thy honoured head - Celestial glory beams, yet, oh, look here, - And shed protection o’er thy children dear!” - Salustian ceased--he kist the foreheads pure - Of both his weeping daughters, Carlos near - Impatient stood, his eyes with ceaseless lure - Tow’rds the lance-casement drawn, where Morn’s first glimmerings - pour. - - -XLII. - - A day of terror to a night of gloom - Succeedeth; light reveals no glimpse of joy. - But rends the Sun the veil from living tomb, - To show how swift can ruffians armed destroy. - Thy treasures, San Sebastian, a decoy, - Thy household gods are shivered into dust! - Nor yet upon thy fell invaders cloy - Barbarian violence and Rapine’s lust. - The thunder-storm hath ceased--but, Heaven, thy arm is just! - - -XLIII. - - “Thou wilt not go--thou wilt not, Carlos, leave - “Thy Isidora’s side--thy life expose. - “What boots their plunder? ’Tis for thee I grieve, - “Alone--unaided, amongst ruffian foes. - “Father, I dread the worst if Carlos goes.” - But Carlos kist her tenderly, and said: - “No danger fear, _mi alma_, blushful rose! - “I will be careful for thy sake--this head - “Bright Heaven is sure to shield--an Angel I would wed!” - - -XLIV. - - Don Carlos wended to Salustian’s home;-- - A smouldering heap of ruins met his gaze! - And rifled remnants of that noble dome - Drunk grenadiers transported through the blaze. - Oh, who shall paint his horror and amaze! - He took by the throat the first who crost his path. - Red bayonets flashed beneath the autumnal rays; - But buckled to his side a sword he hath, - And many a victim falls a prey to Carlos’ wrath. - - -XLV. - - Now thronged the soldiery, and Carlos prest - By numbers fought full long with valour rare; - Till faint and bleeding from his wounded breast, - He gained once more the mute Cathedral square. - But, ah, the bloodhounds tracked him to his lair, - And forced an entrance to the sacred pile. - His blood doth guide them up the belfry stair. - They reach the door--they burst it in--the while - Young Isidora screams, and laugh those demons vile. - - -XLVI. - - Grey-haired Salustian feebly snatched a sword, - And Carlos strove to lift--but falls his hand. - Clasped to her breast the maiden her adored, - And wildly shrieking Isabel doth stand, - Nor for her clamour cared the ruthless band. - They charged impetuous, as the breach were still - Before them--fell that chieftain in the land, - Salustian, piercéd--Carlos they did kill - In Isidora’s arms, where spouts a crimson rill! - - -XLVII. - - Fell to the ground his corse--the maiden stood, - Like Horror’s statue, chained unto the floor. - Flowed round her lovely feet a stream of blood, - New reeking monsters reeled in at the door. - Hell glared i’ their drunken glance. An instant more, - And Honour’s soul had perished. In their eyes - She reads her doom. A fiend through slippery gore - Advanced--in front the casement open lies. - She leaps--Archangels weep at Virtue’s sacrifice! - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO VIII. - - -For the long series of historical incidents, of which this Canto -records only as much as appears to come within the province of -poetry, the reader is referred to the Histories of Napier and -Southey, and to Thiers’s _Histoire du Consulat et de l’Empire_, as -well as to the work of Foy, which will bear comparison with any of -those mentioned. - -With regard to Godoy’s character and conduct, I have read most -carefully his _Mémoires_ published some years back in Paris; but -to many of the statements in that book it is impossible to give -credit, and to the view which I have taken of his career in this -and the last Canto I cannot but strongly adhere. - -Foy thus describes him and the Royal family of Spain:-- - -“On vit Godoy s’élancer de la couche adultère de la reine aux -premiers grades de la milice, à la présidence des conseils, -au gouvernement absolu de la paix et de la guerre. * * Le roi -d’Espagne n’avait pas quarante mils soldats en Europe. Ses arsenaux -étaient dégarnis, son trésor était vide. Les dons patriotiques -arrivèrent de toutes part. La Catalogne demanda à se lever en -masse. Les provinces de Biscaye et de Navarre firent des appels -à la population. Les grands seigneurs accoururent à la tête de -leurs vassaux. Les moines arrivèrent enrégimentés. Des bandes -de contrebandiers, oubliant leurs démêlés habituels avec le -gouvernement, demandèrent à combattre les ennemis du trône et de -l’autel. Tous les états, tous les rangs voulurent vaincre ou mourir -pour la patrie. Quel parti tira le gouvernement espagnol de tant de -dévouement? * * Le général des Franciscains offrit de marcher à la -tête de dix mille moines. Le duc d’Albe et deux autres seigneurs -voulurent lever dix mille hommes à leurs frais. Le chapitre de -Toléde offrit vingt-cinq millions de réaux. Le clergé parcourait -les villages le crucifix à la main.” (Foy, _Hist. Guerre. -Pénin._ liv. iv.) All was useless. “Aucun exploit, aucune vertu, -n’honorèrent sa jeunesse, il n’avait pas tiré l’épée pendant la -guerre. Il ne montra pendant la paix ni talent dans les conseils, -ni détermination dans le gouvernement.” (_Ibid._) - -A curious parallel for the fortune of Godoy, and for the popular -hatred which he excited, is to be found in Horace:-- - - _Ibericis_ peruste funibus latus, - Licèt superbus ambules pecuniâ, - Fortuna non mutat genus. - Videsne, sacram metiente te viam, - Cum bis ter ulnarum togâ, - Ut ora vertat huc et huc euntium - Liberrima indignatio? - “Arat Falerni mille fundi jugera, - “Et Appiam mannis terit; - “Sedilibusque magnus in primis eques, - “Othone contempto, sedet!” - _Epod._ iv. - -Menas, Pompey’s freedman, and Augustus’s Tribune, a double and -impartial traitor, to whom this ode was addressed, was the Godoy of -ancient Rome. - -The Massacre of Madrid on the memorable Second of May did not -happily involve so much bloodshed as for a long period had been -imagined. The exaggeration common to all countries in commemorating -their patriotic struggles, and especially so in the Peninsula, had -fully quadrupled the number of martyrs who fell upon that occasion. -Recent minute inquiries have confirmed the statement of Napier that -the entire number of the Madrid population slain in this massacre -did not exceed 200. The real name of the “Daïz” in the text was -Daoiz. The shootings subsequent to the street massacre took place, -as I have recorded them, under circumstances which in Spain were -necessarily regarded as of excessive atrocity, the denial of the -assistance of clergy, which by Frenchmen was lightly considered, -being in Spanish eyes the acmé of horrors. The supposed miraculous -appearances in the Northern provinces are derived from Foy’s -_History_. - -For the circumstances of the rising which followed throughout Spain -the reader is referred to Napier and to Southey, whose description -of the Siege of Zaragoza I have followed because it is the more -poetical, although I cannot refrain from remarking that it is -disfigured by occasional passages of exaggeration and bombast not -altogether worthy of an historical work. - -The state of political knowledge in Spain at the period of the -French invasion may be inferred from the character of the questions -treated by their publicists. An old Spanish political writer, held -in the greatest esteem down to that period, D. Diego Saavedra -Faxardo, formally discusses this thesis: Whether is it better for a -prince to delegate his authority to one or many? and concludes in -favour of delegation to a single person, for the following reason, -stated in his own words: “That the King is the image of the sun, -and when the sun disappears from the horizon, he leaves to one -only, the moon, and not to several, the care of presiding over the -night!” The political work from which this morçeau is extracted was -composed for the instruction of the Prince of the Asturias, who -afterwards became Carlos II. It was long the French system to keep -Spain in this state of pupillage. Choiseul, the ablest minister -of France during the 18th century, said that he was more certain -of his preponderance in the cabinet of Madrid than in that of -Versailles! He said this in the reign of Carlos III., the ablest of -the Spanish Bourbons. Up to the end of the last century, France was -the planet, and Spain the satellite. - -The first era of the Peninsular campaigns comprised our two first -victories of Roriça and Vimieiro, more intrinsically glorious -perhaps, than any of their successors, but rendered futile in -their consequences by the mistaken generosity of concession which -characterized the Convention of Cintra. - -The second period of the War was commenced by the battle of -Talavera, previously to which Wellington found the Spanish General -Cuesta equally unmanageable, stubborn, and foolishly arrogant, as -the Portuguese General showed himself on the eve of the battle -of Roriça which commenced the first period of the War. In both -cases the results were the same. After a great deal of vapouring -about “doing the business themselves and not needing British -assistance,” both worthies retired, leaving the sole and undivided -honour of each day to the genius and fortune of Wellington. In -the preliminary combat of Alcabon, the Spanish division (4,000 -infantry, 2,000 horse, and 8 guns) scampered off from before the -French, and it was manifest that they could not be depended on. -Wellington was therefore determined that they should withdraw to -Talavera, where there was strong ground suited for defence, on -which alone the Spaniards were likely to make a stand. Cuesta -boastingly replied that “he would fight where he stood.” The 27th, -at daylight, the British General renewed his solicitations, at -first fruitlessly; but when the enemy’s cavalry came in sight, -Cuesta sullenly yielded, yet turning to his staff with frantic -pride observed that “he had first made the Englishman go down on -his knees!” (Napier, _Hist. W. P._ b. viii. c. 2.) In the next -preliminary combat of Salinas, the Spanish army to the number of -11,000 men (including artillery) threw down their arms, and ran -away, declaring that the Allies were entirely routed! It might -have been so but that their example was despised. Thus undivided -glory was thrust upon Wellington; and ever after the part which the -Spaniards took was very subordinate. - -After the battle of Talavera, the Spaniards were shamefully -defeated (having regard to the truth of History it is impossible -to use any other expression) by the French in two successive -actions--those of Arzobispo and Almonacid, at both of which they -threw down their arms and ran, and in the latter were slaughtered -in thousands--a result partly attributable to the bad conduct of -the men and partly to the bad guiding of their commander, Cuenca, -whose character was a concentration of all the worst possible -qualities of a General. “King” Joseph, who had retreated after the -battle of Baylen, now returned to Madrid. Embarrassed by these -disasters, by the perfidious withholding of supplies, by the -perpetual crossing and opposition of the Spanish juntas, which like -those of Portugal, instead of an aid, were for ever a thorn in the -side of their Liberator, Wellington, in the face of an overwhelming -French force, took the resolution of retiring into Portugal. The -conduct of the Spaniards may be best estimated from his own words, -stating his reasons for declining again to co-operate with them: - -“But there was a more shameful consideration, namely, the constant -and shameful misbehaviour of the Spanish troops before the enemy. -We in England never hear of their defeats and flights, but I have -heard Spanish officers telling of nineteen or twenty actions of -the description of that at the bridge of Arzobispo, accounts of -which, I believe, have never been published. * * * In the battle of -Talavera, in which the Spanish army, with very trifling exception, -was not engaged--whole corps threw away their arms, and ran off, -when they were neither attacked nor threatened with an attack. When -these dastardly soldiers run away, they plunder everything they -meet. In their flight from Talavera they plundered the baggage of -the British army, which was at that moment bravely engaged in their -cause.” - -When Wellington came to this resolution to retire into Portugal, -he was at the head of only 17,000 British troops of all arms; the -“terror-stricken Spaniards” were literally an incumbrance. (Napier, -_Hist. W. P._ b. viii. c. 5.) Our troops, through the faithlessness -of their allies, were almost starving, and they were confronted -by 70,000 French! The wonder is that they were not utterly and -immediately crushed by the latter. But Soult was the only great -General then amongst the French commanders; and the promptness is -as much to be admired as the prudence with which Wellington retired -into Portugal. - -The Spanish army made some miserable attempts after this at -independent action against the French, which ended four months -after the battle of Talavera in the disastrous battle of Ocaña, one -of the most frightful routs recorded in history, where the whole -Spanish army of more than 50,000 men was destroyed, having 5000 -killed and wounded, and leaving 26,000 prisoners, 45 pieces of -artillery, 30,000 muskets, and 3000 horses and beasts of burden in -the hands of the enemy! The French lost but 1700 men, killed and -wounded; and I must do them the justice of saying that no exploit -of ours in the Peninsula equalled this in its numerical results; -for God forbid that I should obscure the glory of an enemy or gloss -over the misconduct of an ally. The rest of the Spanish army was -subsequently defeated at Alba de Tormes, which closed the campaigns -of 1809. - -These scattering and consuming thunderbolts opened the eyes of the -Spaniards at last to the value of the British alliance, and threw -the defence of the Peninsula entirely into those heroic hands, by -which it was so brilliantly completed. The soldiery of Spain acted -thenceforth a subordinate part, and the boast after the battle of -Baylen, “We will not need the services of you _Ingleses_--we will -escort you home through France, but you will not have to strike -a blow!” was not again repeated. For six months of the next year -(till Wellington re-appeared on the scene) they continued their -despairing efforts against the French, but with uniform defeat and -failure. No fitting leaders appeared, and the efforts of the people -were worse than useless. - -The _third_ era of the Peninsular campaigns commenced with the -third invasion of Portugal by the French army, which was this time -commanded by Massena. The battle of Busaco was the great event of -the commencement of this campaign. This powerful check was for the -time successful, but unable long to control a far superior force, -and the British army fell back within the lines of Torres Vedras. -Massena arrived in front of them, and made prodigious efforts -to pass. But this triumph of Wellington’s genius, and marvel of -engineering and strategic skill, was impregnable to all assaults, -and was at once the salvation of Portugal and the ultimate means -of rescuing Spain from the Invader. Emerging from his unassailable -redoubt, Wellington at last pursued the French beyond the frontier, -and defeated them on the Spanish soil in battle, action, and -assault, from Salamanca to Vitoria, from Vitoria to the Pyrenees. - -One can laugh at this distance of time at the monstrosities written -about these memorable struggles by French nobles and generals. Thus -Foy has the coolness to say of the relative numbers at Vimieiro, -“Les Anglois étaient deux contre un par rapport aux Français!” -(_Hist. Guerre. Pénins._, livre ix.) He further denies that it -was _a battle at all_. “Ils n’étaient pas desireux de changer un -avantage défensif bien caractérisé en une bataille dont le succès -leur paraissait incertain!” (_Ibid._) - -The political sagacity and military skill of Wellington not only -maintained his position in the face of overwhelming difficulties, -but speedily took the offensive. The co-operation of (Lord) -Beresford, who was placed over the Portuguese army, organized by -the genius of Wellington, and led by British officers, must not be -overlooked. Massena was forced to retreat from Portugal; and as he -passed the border-line of the two Peninsular countries, Wellington -followed victorious and menacing, having achieved what at first -appeared utterly vain to attempt. The battle of Fuentes de Onoro -ensued, the French were forced to evacuate the fortress of Almeida, -and then followed a long career of victory to the British arms, -which was uninterrupted till our triumphant entry into Toulouse, -and the news of Napoléon’s abdication. - -The allusion in this Canto to the Basque Guerrillas needs a word of -explanation. The Chapelgorris and Chapelchurris are distinguishing -names of the Basque mountain peasantry, derived from the colour -of their caps. Chacolin is the thin, sour wine of the district. -During the late Carlist war, a considerable degree of romantic -interest attached to these peasantry for the keenness of their -partisan admixture in the strife. One of the most famous events -in the Carlist struggle was the siege of Bilbao, which was raised -by the Cristino General Cordova, and where the most famous of -modern Guerrilleros, Zumalacarregui, received his death-wound. Had -this most energetic of the Carlist Generals lived, the war might -have had a very different termination. It was he, who, on the -wretchedly unprovided state of his men as to arms being remarked -to him, pointing to the muskets in the Cristino battalions, said, -“There are their arms!” and contrived to arm them very respectably -by stripping the Cristinos in repeated brilliant surprises. The -circumstances of this rude but powerful hero’s death are recorded -in the Cristino song: - - Ya vienen Chapelchurris - Con corneta y clarin, - Para entrar en Bilbao - A beber chacolin. - Mal chacolin tuvieron, - Y dia tan fatal, - Que con la borrachera - Se murió el general! - - - I. “’Twas fraud and treason her destruction doomed.” - - Rancorous Despite, - Disloyal Treason and heart-burning Hate. - Spenser, _Fairy Queen_. - - - IV. “The sword - Which mighty Carlos at Pavía won, - The puny Ferdinand to France restored.” - - Ὦ σπέρμ’ Ἀχιλλέως, τἄλλα μὲν πάρεστί σοι - Πατρῷ’ ἑλέσθαι τῶν δ’ ὅπλων κείνων ἀνὴρ - Ἄλλος κρατύνει νυν, ὁ Λαέρτου γόνος.-- - Soph. _Philoct._ 364. - -“Oh, born of Achilles! the rest of what pertained to thy father -thou mayst take; but these arms another now possesses--Laertes’ -son!” Such was the answer of Ulysses to Neoptolemus, when the -latter sought the arms of Achilles, and such should have been the -reply of Ferdinand to Napoléon. - - - VII. “And when the Nation woke, ’twas in a glare of light.” - -See Wordsworth’s “Convention of Cintra.” - - - X. “Castile, unconquered Aragon, Navarre,” &c. - - Com esta voz Castella alevantada - Suas forças ajunta para as guerras, - De varias regioens, e varias terras. - Camóens, _Lus._ iv. 7. - - - XVI. “His strangled carcase on Domingos’ plain,” &c. - - ----φρόνησον ... - Ὡς νῷν ἀπεχθὴς δυσκλεής τ’ ἀπώλετο. - Soph. _Antig._ 49. - -“Remember, how he perished odious and infamous!” - - - XXVII. “Nor dauntless Manuela be unsung * * - Nor thou, Burita, sprung from noblest bed.” - -These heroines were by no means singular in their courage and -constancy, at that eventful era. Blanca is, I trust, no inaccurate -type of that multitude of heroic women who sprang up in all parts -of Spain during the Peninsular War, who rose superior to the -weakness of their sex in the face of invasion and its attendant -horrors, and who resembled more the Antigones than the Ismenes of -ancient history. It was theirs to falsify the familiar reproach: - - ----γυνὴ γὰρ τἄλλα μὲν φόβου πλέα, - Κακή τ’ ἐς ἀλκὴν, καὶ σίδηρον εἰσορᾷν. - Eurip. _Med._ 266. - -“For Woman is full of fear, and weak for the combat and at sight -of steel.” The heroic plebeian Maid of Zaragoza, and the not less -heroic patrician, Burita, were not of Ismene’s way of thinking, -which is nevertheless expressed with beautiful feminine propriety -(for common occasions):-- - - Ἀλλ’ ἐννοεῖν χρὴ τοῦτο μὲν, γυναῖχ’ ὅτι - Ἔφυμεν, ὡς πρὸς ἄνδρας οὐ μαχουμένα. - Soph. _Antig._ 61. - -“But it is meet we think on this--that we are women, and unequal to -contend with men.” They rather said with Antigone:-- - - ----σοὶ δ’ εἰ δοκεῖ, - Τὰ τῶν θεῶν ἔντιμ’ ἀτιμάσασ’ ἔχε. * * - Ἀλλ’ ἔα με, καὶ τὴν ἐξ ἐμοῦ δυσβουλίαν. - _Ib._ 95. - -“Do thou, if so to thee seem fit, despise that which the Gods deem -holiest. * * But suffer me and my rashness!” - - - XXVIII. “And cloistered sisters the cartouche to mould.” - - O! decus, o! sacrâ fœmina digna domo! - Ovid. _Fast._ vi. 810. - - “Though History rend each page, this, this shall be enrolled!” - -See Wordsworth’s “Convention of Cintra.” - - - XXIX. “See the furious charge - Of France’s chivalry, like Aias’ car, - Mow thousands down.” - - Αἴας δὲ Τρώεσσιν ἐπάλμενος εἷλε Δόρυκλον κ. τ. λ. - Ὣς ἔφεπε κλονέων πεδίον τότε φαίδιμος Αἴας - Δαΐζων ἵππους τε καὶ ἀνέρας. - Hom. _Il._ xi. 489. - - - XXXVI. “Upon thy beauteous banks, Mondego, where,” &c. - - As filhas do Mondego a morte escura - Longo tempo chorando memoraram; - E por memoria eterna, em fonte pura - As lagrimas choradas transformaram: - O nome lhe pozeram, que ainda dura, - Dos amores de Ignez, que alli passaram. - Vede que fresca fonte rega as flores, - Que lagrimas são a agua, e o nome amores. - Camóens, _Lus._ iii. 135. - - - XXXVIII. “But sad the victory gained where Moore heroic died.” - -See the clear and affecting account of Sir John Moore’s last -moments, by the present Lord Hardinge, annexed to Mr. Moore’s -_Narrative_. - - - XL. “The pillow tended by the loving wife,” &c. - -See the beautiful speech of Andromache over the body of Hector:-- - - Οὐ γάρ μοι θνήσκων λεχέων ἐκ χεῖρας ὄρεξας· - Οὐδέ τί μοι εἶπες πυκινὸν ἔπος, οὗτέ κεν αἰεὶ - Μεμνήμην νύκτας τε καὶ ἤματα δακρυχέουσα. - Hom. _Il._ xxiv. 743. - - - XLIII. “Thou wilt not go--thou wilt not, Carlos, leave,” &c. - - _Clyt._ Ποῦ σ’ αὖθις ὀψόμεθα; ποῦ χρή μ’ ἀθλίαν - Ἐλθοῦσαν εὑρεῖν σὴν χὲρ’, ἐπίκουρον κακῶν; - _Achil._ Ἡμεῖς σε φύλακες, οὗ χρεὼν, φυλάσσομεν. - - _Clyt._ “Where shall we again behold thee? Whither must I - wretched go to find thy protecting hand?” - _Achil._ “We will guard you, when it is needful.” - Eurip. _Iphig. in Aul._ 1026. - - “No danger fear, _mi alma_, blushful rose!” - - Nè te, Altamoro, entro al pudico letto, - Potuto ha ritener la sposa amata. - Pianse, percosse il biondo crine e ’l petto, - Per distornar la tua fatale andata. - “Dunque (dicia) crudel, più che’l mio aspetto - “Del mar l’orrida faccia a te fia grata? - “Fian l’arme al braccio tuo più caro peso, - “Che’l picciol figlio ai dolci scherzi inteso?” - Tasso, _Gerus. Lib._ xvii. 26. - - - XLVII. “She leaps--Archangels weep at Virtue’s sacrifice!” - - Ὦ τύμβος, ὦ νυμφεῖον, ὦ κατασκαφὴς, - Οἴκησις αἰείφρουρος * * κάκιστα δὴ μακρῷ - Κάτειμι, πρίν μοι μοῖραν ἐξήκειν βίου. - Soph. _Antig._ 891. - -“Oh sepulchre, oh bridal bed, oh earth-dug everlasting -dwelling!--by the worst of deaths I perish before the allotted day.” - -I visited in September last the principal historical scenes -recorded in this Canto--the Castle at Bayonne where Napoléon -filched the crown with such sinister dexterity from the old King, -as well as from Ferdinand VII.; the fine fortress at Badajoz where -the miserable Godoy was born; the museum of Armoin at Madrid, -where, alas, the sword of Francis the First surrendered at Pavía, -_is not_; and the monument in the Prado, erected to the memory -of the victims who fell on the _Dos de Maio_. I had previously -visited the fields of Roriça and Vimieiro, and made more than one -pilgrimage to Corunna. - -The name of the Maid of Zaragoza (in contradiction to all English -writers) I have fixed, upon Spanish authority, as Manuela Sanchez. - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto IX. - - -I. - - A youthful Chieftain’s form as Phœbus fair - An instant filled the door--then forward rushed:-- - “Back, villains, nor with deeds of carnage dare - To stain the arms that late the Gaul have crushed! - Not men, but demons--where the life-blood gushed - Of all her tribe, this maiden would ye harm?” - ’Twas Nial! ’Neath his glance was instant hushed - Each caitiff’s heart. With ill-disguised alarm, - They skulk aloof in awe. Such god-like Virtue’s charm! - - -II. - - He takes the trembling maiden by the hand, - Where huddled in a corner, nigh to swoon, - Shuddering and paralysed, she scarce doth stand, - And ill divineth what a priceless boon - Hath Nial brought her that he came so soon! - For ruffian violence her charms had eyed, - And forward rushed to stain that peerless Moon, - As Nial entered. Better in her pride - A million-fold to have like Isidora died! - - -III. - - But Heaven, I ween, had sent the gallant youth - To rescue Innocence in that dread hour, - And show transcendent courage, manhood, truth - O’er hell-born passion’s momentary power! - He seized her hand--at first from him, her tower - Of strength in peril, she withdrew in fear; - But in his eyes she looked, and when the flower - Of generous youth and beauty stood so near, - Her awe dissolved--her face was bright ’mid many a tear. - - -IV. - - As vines their tendrils curl round sturdy elms, - As delicate flowers their heads bend to the sun, - As ivy twines round oak in forest realms, - As jasmine soft doth o’er the trellis run: - So Isabel her soul doth throw upon - Young Nial’s arm, reposing fearless there. - His hero-heart her confidence hath won. - So brave, so kind he looks that even Despair - His presence flies, and blood less direful hues doth wear. - - -V. - - He spoke brief words--but deep, consoling, tender; - Iberia’s language War’s quick ear had taught; - His thrilling voice new confidence doth lend her, - But tow’rds the floor her eyes an instant brought - Sent back the flood of agonizing thought. - And wild she cried, and frantic was her wail; - And shuddering she nigh fell, till Nial caught - The bruiséd lambkin in his arms, and pale - He bore her through the door, and fanned her in the gale. - - -VI. - - Full slowly she revived, and Nial then - An instant left her in the outer air, - While to the chamber he returned again, - And made her butchered kindred next his care. - Joy! joy! Salustian upright sits, and spare - Thy talons, Death, one victim: deep his wound, - But yet not perilous. Nial straight doth tear - His sash away, and swathe it firmly round - Salustian’s side, the blood he staunched, the gash he bound. - - -VII. - - Salustian deeply groaned:--“Would I had died, - Would Heaven that I had died this fatal hour! - Where are my girls--my girls? Oh God,” he cried, - “One dashed to pieces--in the villains’ power - The other--Slay me! Hellhounds, all devour - That owns me. Slay me! Oh, in mercy slay. - Yet I’ll not leave my daughter sweet, my flower - Of Beauty in their claws. Kites, Kites, I say, - Where, hellkites, is my girl? My sword your lust shall stay?” - - -VIII. - - He scrambled to his feet, then to his knees - Fell weakly; but with sword convulsive grasped, - And energy tremendous, Nial sees - Him drag his body o’er the floor, which rasped - His blade in dire excitement, while he gasped - With nostril panting. Nial’s hand in vain - His movement bars, till Isabel is clasped - In her wild father’s arms, who shrieks amain, - Frantic with joy to think her Honour without stain! - - -IX. - - And told young Isabel the debt she owed - To Nial’s care, which soothed the old man much, - And tears for his relief abundant flowed, - Though thought of Isidora made him clutch - His sword again. Oh villains, it might touch - Your stony hearts, e’en your’s that did this wrong, - To see its dire effect. Methinks, not such - Are England’s men. I ween that ye belong - To some base mongrel breed, against the helpless strong. - - -X. - - And Nial’s gentle voice the old man’s ear - Like music enters. Slowly he doth rise, - And ’neath the hero’s guidance without fear - Father and daughter, yet with many sighs, - A step advance. In vain Salustian tries - The turret to descend--his wound too deep. - A litter Nial’s active zeal supplies; - And careful borne adown the turret steep, - Salustian soon within young Nial’s tent doth weep. - - -XI. - - While Britain’s columns fierce assault the town, - Rages terrific strife without the wall; - The elements with fierce, o’ershadowing frown - Dashed through Pyrene’s wind-compelling hall, - And storm within and storm without appal! - The noble Soult of nobler Moore the foe, - Of San Sebastian strove to avert the fall; - And now Behobia’s broken arch below - By Biriatú he threats the Bidasoa’s flow. - - -XII. - - At Andarlása craggy mount and moor - Girding the rapid stream forbid its verge; - But Oyarzún not yet may sleep secure. - ’Twixt Jaizquibel and crested Haya urge - His fiery columns straining to emerge. - See on the crownéd heights our forces rest. - Zugáramurdi, Echallar a dirge - May roar for him who dares the eagle’s nest. - Great Arthur guards the pass with high, heroic breast. - - -XIII. - - Not his the blame for San Sebastian’s deeds; - Upon the mountain-peaks he guides the war. - No warning voice the ravening soldier heeds, - And battling rides the Chief revered afar. - To Fuentarabia’s walls our legions bar - The French approach, and Bidasoa runs - Round tall San Marcial’s foot their path to mar; - And Spain hath banded there her warrior sons, - While o’er the river’s edge France points her thunderous guns. - - -XIV. - - By Biriatú now Reille the river fords, - And climbs San Marcial with his fierce brigades, - But tangled furze and copse impede their swords. - Confusion mixes skirmishers and aids; - The mountain steep their forceful vigour jades; - And dashing down its sides Spain’s columns rush. - Before that charge the might of Jena fades. - As reeds are swept beneath the torrent’s gush, - So headlong falls the Frank, and feels subjection’s blush. - - -XV. - - But rapid Soult who notes the unequal fight - O’er Bidasoa’s stream two bridges throws - On barks securely moored and trestles light, - And, quick, Villatte’s reserves their fronts disclose. - O’er bridge and mount they fly to face their foes. - San Marcial’s sides they climb, his shrine they gain. - Thy line, Castile, an instant backward goes. - But up great Arthur rides--the sons of Spain - Recall their strength, and hurl the foemen to the plain. - - -XVI. - - For ’neath that mighty Chief’s commanding eye - Impossible to sink or droop or quail. - And Aylmer’s British-born brigade is nigh - To baffle France if, Spain, thy sons should fail. - A loud Castilian shout doth rend the gale, - Acknowledging the Hero’s presence there. - Full swift the Gaul is dashed into the vale, - Urged to the brink of Bidasoa fair; - And drowned or slaughtered sink the victims of despair. - - -XVII. - - Soult from the summit of the Grand Monarque - (For sight in mountain war is baffled oft, - And loftiest points befit the leader’s mark) - Beheld the dreadful rout and mourned aloft; - Then urged his columns onward, gliding soft - To Vera’s fords, his loud artillery’s roar - Covering the stream. Our men derisive scoft - To see his shells descend destructive o’er - His own astounded troops, their ranks molesting sore. - - -XVIII. - - Ill brooks the Frenchman withering laughter’s scorn: - The Lusitan brigade they swift assail, - Whose head by rapid fire is backward borne. - With wondrous fleetness mounting from the vale, - Rough Haya’s slopes the active foemen scale. - But Inglis’ columns now the skirmish join, - And soon Clausel is on the English trail. - ’Mid Haya’s dells and lofty ridges shine - For many an hour their fires along each broken line. - - -XIX. - - Joy! joy! the battle to the Frenchward side - Is proudly borne, and pass Kempt’s rifles keen - O’er Bidasoa’s stream, where swift they glide, - In modest garments all of darkest green-- - A hue for special service chos’n, I ween, - For England loves the daring and the frank. - In brightest red her columns robed are seen, - A mark inviting like the target’s blank; - And fair her mind is spoke, and fair her battle’s rank! - - -XX. - - Kempt holds Lesaca, and the chain’s complete - From Santa Barbara now to Haya’s crest. - Clausel beholds the movement of defeat, - And dreads to tempt the battle further west. - Hill threatens D’Erlon at his Chief’s behest. - Dalhousie, Colville gall the Gallic line; - Girón’s Castilians aim at Conroux’ breast; - The Lusitan battalion’s bayonets shine; - And swift the French are forced their stronghold to resign. - - -XXI. - - See blaze their camp in fires terrific whirled - By rising tempest-blasts along the sky; - Tent, abatís, redoubt, and breastwork hurled - To ruin far and near--below--on high. - Red streams the fluttering canvass in the eye - Of that autumnal sun--fierce embers flare, - And strew the gale--fall blackening timbers nigh; - Pyrene’s sides reflect the lurid glare, - And myriad crackling sparks are borne upon the air. - - -XXII. - - But now resounds the cannonade of Graham-- - That direful torrent o’er the stormers’ heads-- - And bids Soult pause. A moment grief o’ercame - The hero’s soul--almost a tear he sheds, - For ominous boding and profound he dreads - The noble city’s fall. Yet firm he stands, - And menacing the foe his phalanx treads - San Marcial’s sides, where still their blazing brands - And glittering points of steel are swayed by sturdy hands. - - -XXIII. - - And now the direful storm that fell when San - Sebastian’s scarp was won the battle palls. - The tempest louder shouts than warring man; - San Marcial’s voice on Haya echoing calls, - And rattles Jaizquibel his thunder-balls, - Mocking weak mortals, far along the sky. - Terrific lightnings o’er Pyrene’s walls - Flash like the swords of mountain spirits on high; - And halts the strife of Man--his pellets cease to fly. - - -XXIV. - - Louder and louder grows the tempest’s voice. - From secular oak and pine huge branches riven - Are whirled through air by winds that fierce rejoice; - And trees for playthings to the blast are given, - As howls the whirlwind breath of angry Heaven! - And pettiest streams to cataracts are swelled, - And torrents dash adown the mountain driven; - While Druid stone and cairn are instant felled, - And boulders rolled along like pebbles are compelled. - - -XXV. - - Dismayed and scattered fly the rival hosts, - Full many a Gaul in Bidasoa drowned; - But, ah, no respite San Sebastian boasts-- - No truce proclaimed upon that fatal ground. - Still havoc, plunder, stalk the streets around, - Still bloodhounds bathe their sides in streaming gore! - No angel-voice to plead for mercy found, - No power to quell the fierce hyæna’s roar-- - Even Hope doth seem to fly from that devoted shore! - - -XXVI. - - Too dire the scenes that San Sebastian stain - To leave Salustian safe within its wall; - Young Isabel doth by his side remain - In Nial’s tent, and soothe his sorrows all, - But oft her face doth Isidor recall! - Before the old man from the tower descended, - Had Nial, fearful lest the sight appal - Their eyelids, moved the shattered corse and tended - Its hurried funeral, where no tear with his was blended. - - -XXVII. - - But Blanca’s corse, her foster-sister fair, - Was borne with flowrets strewn to Isaro’s isle, - While snow-white banner trembled in the air - Above the bark where cold she lay the while, - To show her virgin spirit without guile! - And while her sisters of the oar with long - And pensive strokes, and thoughts that War revile, - In mournful pageant tame the waters strong, - The Island coast they round with low funereal song. - - -XXVIII. - - And now with interest deep that hourly grew - To tenderest love doth Nial oft behold - Sweet Isabel, not formally to woo, - But drink unconsciously a bliss untold - From presence that his destiny doth mould! - Her figure light and graceful as gazelle, - Her eyes’ majestic orbs like starlight rolled, - Her nature gentle yet with witching spell - Of buoyant life, upon his kindred bosom fell. - - -XXIX. - - And felt the maiden boundless gratitude - To him the saviour of herself and sire. - Love when he comes doth little there intrude, - With such devoted zeal she doth admire; - ’Tis only kindling an intenser fire. - Neither had noted the delicious hour, - When mutual transport as in Heavenly choir - Their souls united; but the common power - They owned with one accord--of hearts the richest dower. - - -XXX. - - She loved him with a deep idolatry, - So like a god he to her eyes doth seem, - Who came from demon-hate her soul to free, - Nor shorn at times of a Hypérion beam-- - The very image of her virgin dream! - Like to those angel-visitants descending - To earthly loves in Time’s primeval gleam. - And Nial joys her beauty in defending, - And deems celestial charms were ne’er so sweetly blending. - - -XXXI. - - And while the father ’neath the daughter’s care - Doth gather strength and resignation’s calm, - Young Nial to the grave doth pious bear - The corse of Carlos which their tears embalm. - And Morton low reposeth ’neath the palm - Of martyr-courage in the self-same grave. - Funereal rite was none nor dirge nor psalm; - But warriors mourned for them, the true and brave-- - There sleep, young soldiers, well--for gallant souls ye gave! - - -XXXII. - - And Nial wept his faithful comrade dead, - Like woman wept--nor blame his hero-soul, - For many a fervid kindness done and said - Rushed o’er his mind, and swept to memory’s goal, - Till tears in torrents gushed beyond controul. - Oh, tears are generous, noble! Tears became - Achilles’ cheek, when Death Patroclus stole; - His frame sharp anguish shook who shook the frame - Of Troy--nor, Nial, blush that thou didst weep the same! - - -XXXIII. - - Three days, three nights, Sebastian’s sack went on; - And as in fire the earth will sink at last, - And fire avenge the deeds that then were done, - Through fiery scourge so San Sebastian past. - Raged o’er the town, urged by the Atlantic blast, - The red relentless flame, and to and fro - Swept like a desert courser, lurid cast - Its glare o’er Ocean, flashed above--below, - Till all was smouldering heaps of desolation, wo! - - -XXXIV. - - Biscayan Nereids! fill your urns with tears; - With scent of gore the bloodhound’s on the trail. - Mourn, Uruméan Naiads, plunged in fears, - For shrieks portentous load the sighing gale - From virgins all dishevelled, lorn, and pale; - And stab and death-shot end what leers begin, - And strong men fall o’erpowered, and seniors frail - Are slaughtered with the babes of all their kin, - And vilest passions loosed--the Carnival of Sin! - - -XXXV. - - Oh, spectral portent of Calamity! - Oh, ghost of violated Beauty smeared - With blood and fiery blackness. See it, see - Where War’s wild wave hath swept o’er homes endeared-- - All, all by Havoc’s burning ploughshare seared! - An awful silence reigns, more horrid than - The late artillery’s roar--a trophy reared - To ruin in each street, that crimson ran. - A plague infects the air from piled, putrescent man! - - -XXXVI. - - Ay, thousand corses, shroudless, graveless lie, - And flout Heaven’s nostril with their carrion hue. - The iron hail is scattered far and nigh, - And earth unnumbered fragments sadly strew: - Wrecked lares--torn apparel--arms that slew - Till butchery broke them, headgear, shell, and shot, - But ah! no living thing--yes, one I view-- - A haggard maniac, crouched in loneliest spot. - The sole survivor he where slaughtered thousands rot! - - -XXXVII. - - Nor war’s dread engines yet have done their worst, - For Mont’ Orgullo still by Rey is held; - And o’er that stronghold falls a doom accurst, - For ere he leave the Castle must be shelled. - Nine days of horror by our cannon knelled - Bring death to our own captives--on the tenth - When Honour, grisly demon’s voice is quelled - By glut of gore, he proudly yields at length, - Walks forth to beat of drum, and owns Britannia’s strength. - - -XXXVIII. - - What art thou, Man, that mak’st a pride of strife, - A glory of the sufferings of thy kind? - That dar’st profanely sport with human life, - And ev’n in cruelty canst greatness find? - Oh, steeped in folly, oh, intensely blind, - And worshipping false Honour more than God, - Of beasts derided is thy boasted mind! - Fawn on thy gilded butchers, kiss the rod, - But deem not scenes like these have Heaven’s approving nod. - - -XXXIX. - - Not these thy triumphs, England! Ne’er again - Thy soul shall covet save of Locrian power - And intellect the glory! Beaconing men - To happiness be thine--still Freedom’s tower, - Still making every scowling despot cower - By labouring mind alone! let Justice wrest - The axe from War, and give to man her dower. - Plant, plant the olive pure from East to West, - And bare not, save compelled, the sword ’gainst human breast! - - -XL. - - Salustian quick regained his wonted strength, - Such strength as leaves the feebler tide of life, - And near Ernani--moved of moderate length - The journey--to a house with comforts rife, - His patrimony fair, where sound of strife - There comes not. Grassy slopes and orchards gay, - And sweetest daughter to replace a wife - Embalmed in deathless memory, fill the day - With gentlest exercise, and health resumes its sway. - - -XLI. - - And Nial oft on fiery steed doth ride - O’er the brief space that sunders them, to mark - The old man’s progress. Oft bright eyes replied - In mutual glances blithe as song of lark - At each returning. Soft, though lustrous dark, - Beamed Isabel on Nial’s blue-eyed smile. - Salustian saw full clear the kindling spark, - Nor chid the flame that grew and spread the while, - Till Nial’s plighted troth was echoed without guile. - - -XLII. - - Her soul was all absorbed in his--her life - Was cast, since meeting, in another mould. - The cloud or sunshine, calm repose or strife, - Must be together shared, the bliss untold - Or mortal grief must Fate for both unfold! - No thought her bosom entered but was Nial’s; - Self-consecrate to him, her champion bold-- - His--his--though Destiny pour all its phials, - His--his ’mid love’s best joys or life’s acutest trials! - - -XLIII. - - Now tranquilly beneath the autumnal sun, - Whose beams the mountain breezes tempered bland, - Salustian, Isabel from sorrow won - Full many an hour by wings angelic fanned; - And oft within their lawn doth Nial stand, - And pluck the golden apple from the bough, - Or cull grapes purple-clustering for the hand - Of Isabel--now plum or almond--now - The green and luscious fig, the peach with blushing brow. - - -XLIV. - - And quiet smiled the old man, pleased to see - A pair so formed for mutual happiness, - So beautiful in different quality, - Whom destined wedlock’s bonds ere long to bless; - And as he feasted on their comeliness, - At thought of Carlos and of Isidor - A tear would gathering come--yet not the less - He poured on these his deep affection’s store; - But rather, centred thus, his spirit entwined them more. - - -XLV. - - Now all his momentary ire had ceased - ’Gainst Britain’s sons, whose high and generous hearts - Partook no stain of deeds which are the feast - Of felon-natures wielding Victory’s darts. - And when for war again young Nial starts, - Salustian gives his blessing: Isabel - With many a tear a treasured chain imparts - Of Isidora’s hair and her’s: “Twill dwell - Next to my heart,” he said, as sobbed the maid “Farewell!” - - -XLVI. - - But, ah, the town Isaiah’s voice recals - When mourned the awful prophet Zion’s doom, - With battering nations camped around her walls, - Till flames devouring chase the midnight gloom. - Wo to thee, Ariel, wo, gigantic tomb! - The Lord of Hosts shall visit thee with storm - And thunder;--vengeful fires thy pride consume, - In gory dust is laid thy beauteous form, - And as a dream of night thy agonies shall swarm! - - -XLVII. - - In after days, when Isidora long - Had slept the icy slumber of the dead, - The memory of her Beauty and her wrong - O’er her still honoured name a lustre shed; - And many a lover with her story fed - The tuneful echoes of Biscaya’s plain, - Told how all crimson ran her stony bed, - How passed to bliss the maiden without stain, - And thus her early doom preserved in simple strain: - - -The Basque Lily. - - Mourn Cantabria’s lily fair, - Blooming soft like young Aurora; - Broken lies and bleeding there - Beauty’s flowret, Isidora! - Honour’s martyr-crown she prized - Life before and living splendour. - Ah, how fearfully disguised - Is that blossom once so tender. - Vascongada, mourn! - - -2 - - Ne’er was such unfading truth, - Love so pure beheld in maiden; - Never was such radiant youth - With such boundless virtue laden. - Pity felt her heart for wo, - For Iberia deep devotion; - While her damask cheek would show - Of her soul the least emotion. - Vascongada, mourn! - - -3 - - San Sebastian’s daughters, weep, - Yet a blessing call upon her; - Even the dread Cathedral leap - Chose the maid before dishonour! - Red the lily, torn its charms, - Fiery-tongued for pity pleading. - Carlos, ah, thy frozen arms - Cannot fold thy angel bleeding. - Vascongada, mourn. - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO IX. - - -The terrible scenes consequent upon the siege and storming of San -Sebastian, which occupy considerable portions of this and the -preceding Canto, and form in their bare recital an illustration -never surpassed of the horrors of War, are attested by so many -authorities, that to enter into minute corroborative details -would far exceed the limits which I have prescribed to myself. -The following brief but vigorous description is from Gleig’s -_Subaltern_: - -“The reader will easily believe that a man who has spent some of -the best years of his life amid scenes of violence and bloodshed, -must have witnessed many spectacles highly revolting to the purest -feelings of our nature; but a more appalling picture of war passed -by--of war in its darkest colours,--those which distinguish it -when its din is over--than was presented by St. Sebastian, and -the country in its immediate vicinity, I certainly never beheld. -Whilst an army is stationary in any district, you are wholly -unconscious of the work of devastation which is proceeding--you see -only the hurry and pomp of hostile operations. But, when the tide -has rolled on, and you return by chance to the spot over which it -has last swept, the effect upon your mind is such, as cannot even -be imagined by him who has not experienced it. Little more than a -week had elapsed, since the division employed in the siege of St. -Sebastian had moved forward. Their trenches were not yet filled up, -nor their batteries demolished; yet the former had, in some places, -fallen in of their own accord, and the latter were beginning to -crumble to pieces. We passed them by, however, without much notice. -It was, indeed, impossible not to acknowledge, that the perfect -silence which prevailed was far more awful than the bustle and -stir that lately pervaded them; whilst the dilapidated condition of -the convent, and of the few cottages which stood near it, stripped, -as they were, of roofs, doors, and windows, and perforated with -cannon shot, inspired us with gloomy sensations. - -“As we pursued the main road, and approached St. Sebastian by -its ordinary entrance, we were at first surprised at the slight -degree of damage done to its fortifications by the fire of our -batteries. The walls and battlements beside the gateway appeared -wholly uninjured, the very embrasures being hardly defaced. But -the delusion grew gradually more faint as we drew nearer, and -had totally vanished before we reached the glacis. We found the -draw-bridge fallen down across the ditch, in such a fashion that -the endeavour to pass it was not without danger. The folding gates -were torn from their hinges, one lying flat upon the ground, and -the other leaning against the wall; whilst our own steps, as we -moved along the arched passage, sounded loud and melancholy. - -“Having crossed this, we found ourselves at the commencement of -what had once been the principal street in the place. No doubt it -was, in its day, both neat and regular; but of the houses nothing -now remained except the outward shells, which, however, appeared -to be of an uniform height and style of architecture. As far as -I could judge, they stood five stories from the ground, and were -faced with a sort of freestone, so thoroughly blackened and defiled -as to be hardly cognizable. The street itself was, moreover, choked -up with heaps of ruins, among which were strewed about fragments -of household furniture and clothing, mixed with caps, military -accoutrements, round shot, pieces of shells, and all the other -implements of strife. Neither were there wanting other evidences -of the drama which had been lately acted here, in the shape of -dead bodies, putrefying, and infecting the air with the most -horrible stench. Of living creatures, on the other hand, not one -was to be seen, not even a dog or a cat; indeed, we traversed the -whole city without meeting more than six human beings. These, from -their dress and abject appearance, struck me as being some of the -inhabitants who had survived the assault. They looked wild and -haggard, and moved about here and there, poking among the ruins, as -if they were either in search of the bodies of their slaughtered -relatives, or hoped to find some little remnant of their property.” -For an account of the excesses committed by our soldiery after the -storming, “atrocities degrading to human nature,” see Napier’s -_History_, book xxii. chap. 2. Mr. Ford’s denial, in his otherwise -valuable Hand-book, deserves much censure. I heard those horrors -detailed on the spot. - -The operations on the Pyrenees on the day of the storming of San -Sebastian, with the rival manœuvrings of Soult and Wellington, the -combat of San Marcial, in which the Spaniards behaved so well, and -the several remarkable incidents of which I have sought to avail -myself, will be found fully recorded in Napier’s _History_, book -xxii. chap. 3. The scene of these, and the subsequent operations, -struck me at passing as grand and majestic in the highest -degree--the lofty and broken Pyrenean range, more fitted, as I have -elsewhere remarked, for the combats of Titans than of men. The -very names have a majestic sound, and their associations are often -supernatural. I have warrant for the lines:-- - - “Zugaramurdi, Echallar a dirge - May roar for him who dares the eagle’s nest.” - -These terrific mountain-solitudes were celebrated as the scene of -witchcraft in ancient times:--“Las trasformaciones y maleficios, -las zambras, bailes, y comilonas con que se solazaban otras en los -aquelarres ó ayuntamientos nocturnos de Zugaramurdi, en el valle -de Baztan.” (Navarrete, _Vida de Cervantes_.) A number of these -so-called witches were condemned to be whipped publicly in 1810 by -the Inquisition of Logroño. - - - V. “Shuddering she nigh fell, till Nial caught - The bruiséd lambkin in his arms.” - - Illa nihil: neque enim vocem viresque loquendi, - Aut aliquid toto pectore mentis habet; - Sed tremit, ut quondam stabulis deprensa relictis, - Parva sub infesto cùm jacet agna lupo. - Ovid. _Fast._ ii. 797. - - - VII. ----“Would I had died, - Would Heaven that I had died this fatal hour!” &c. - - Ἰοὺ, ἰοὺ, ἀντιπαθῆ - Μεθεῖσα καρδίας σταλαγμὸν - Χθονιαφόρον· ἐκ δὲ τοῦ - Λιχὴν ἄφυλλος, ἄτεκνος, - Βροτοφθόρους κηλίδας ἐν χώρᾳ βαλεῖ. - Æschyl. _Eumen._ 810. - -“Wo, bitter wo is me! I will shed a drop from my heart which shall -corrupt all earthly things! And thence shall spring a ring-worm -sterile--childless, and fling man-rotting spots through earth -around!” - - - XI. “The elements with fierce, o’ershadowing frown.” - - At pater omnipotens densa inter nubila telum - Contorsit (non ille faces, nec fumea tædis - Lumina) præcipitemque immani turbine adegit. - Virg. _Æn._ vi. - - - XXIII. “And halts the strife of man--his pellets cease to fly.” - - Ἀντίτυπα δ’ ἐπὶ γᾷ πέσε τανταλωθεὶς - Πυρφόρος, ὃς τότε μαινομένᾳ ξὺν ὁρμᾷ - Βακχεύων ἐπέπνει - Ῥιπαῖς ἐχθίστων ἀνέμων. - Soph. _Antig._ 134. - -“But stricken with the thunder that fiery one fell to earth who -raging before with insane fury had excited the violent winds.” - - - XXV. “Dismayed and scattered fly the rival hosts.” - - Stolto, ch’al Ciel si agguaglia, e in oblio pone - Come di Dio la destra irata tuone! - Tasso. _Ger. Lib._ iv. 2. - - - XXIX. ----“The common power - They owned with one accord--of hearts the richest dower.” - - Die heilige Liebe - Strebt zu der höchsten frucht gleicher gesinungen auf * * - Sich verbinde das paar, finde die höhere welt. - Goethe, “_Metamorphose der Pflanzen_.” - -“Holy Love strives after the loftiest fruit of equal -dispositions--that those who love may be one, and find the Higher -World!” - - - XXX. “So like a god he to her eyes doth seem, - Who came from demon-hate her soul to free.” - - _Clyt._ Οὐκ ἔχω βωμὸν καταφυγεῖν ἄλλον, ἢ τὸ σὸν γόνυ, - Οὐδὲ φίλος οὐδεὶς γελᾷ μοι. * * * - Eurip. _Iphig. in Aul._ 911. - - _Achil._ Θεὸς ἐγὼ πέφῃνά σοι - Μέγιστος, οὐκ ὢν. - _Ib._ 973. - -_Clyt._ “I have no other altar to fly to but thy knee; nor have - I a friend!” - -_Achil._ “I have appeared to thee a mighty God; but am not one.” - - - XXXII. “His frame sharp anguish shook,” &c. - - ----κλαίοντα λιγέως. - Hom. _Il._ T. - -“Crying sharply”--such is the epithet which the poet applies to the -wailing of Achilles for Patroclus. - - - XXXIII. “Through fiery scourge so San Sebastian past,” &c. - - Πόλις δ’ ὁμοῦ μὲν θυμιαμάτων γέμει, - Ὁμοῦ δὲ παιάνων τε καὶ στεναγμάτων. - Soph. _Œdip._ Tyr. 4. - - Πόλις γὰρ, ὥσπερ καὐτὸς εἰσορᾷς, ἄγαν - Ἤδη σαλεύει, κᾴνακουφίσαι κάρα - Βυθῶν ἔτ’ οὐχ οἵα τε φοινίου σάλου. - _Ib._ 22. - -“The whole city smokes, and is full of mournful pæans and -lamentations. * * As thou thyself dost witness, the city is shaken -with a mighty grief, nor can raise its head from the depths of the -gory sea.” - - “Till all was smouldering heaps of desolation, wo.” - - Gern möcht’ er in tempeln beten, - Nur trümmer findet er mehr! - Altar’ und Götter liegen - Zerstückelt am boden umher. - Anastasius Grün (Von Auersperg). - -“Willingly would he pray in temples, but he finds only ruins. -Altars and Gods lie shattered upon the earth around!” - - - XXXIX. “Thy soul shall covet but of Locrian power - And intellect the glory! Beaconing men - To happiness be thine--still Freedom’s tower, - Still making every scowling Despot cower!” - - Νέμει γὰρ Ἀτρέκεια πόλιν Λοκρῶν - Ζεφυρίων: μέλει τέ σφισι Καλλιόπα, - Καὶ χάλκεος Ἄρης. - Pind. _Olymp._ x. - -“For Truth doth govern in the Zephyrian Locri’s city, and Calliope -is their care, and likewise brazen Mars.” A magnificent eulogy is -conveyed here in a few words. Ἀτρέκεια in the original has the -force both of Truth and Justice. No people of antiquity were more -renowned for the excellence of their institutions than the Locri, -who were the first to make use of written laws. (Strabo, _lib._ 6.) -Calliope is used by synecdoche for the Muses, to whom the Locri -were greatly devoted, having invented the Locric harmony which was -subsequently imitated by Sappho and Anacreon. (Athenæus, _lib._ -xiv. et xv.) Their warlike character upon fitting occasions was -also terribly displayed, 10,000 Locri having put to flight 130,000 -invading Crotonians on the banks of the river Sagra--a fact which, -at first doubted as impossible, was afterwards strictly verified, -and passed into a proverb. (Strabo, _lib._ 6.) The epithet “brazen” -applied here to Mars arises from the singular fact that iron did -not enter into the composition of the Grecian arms, which were all -of brass. (Pausanias, _in Laconicis_, and Homer _passim_.) The -magnificent region of Locris was situated at the foot of Parnassus; -and the splendid pre-eminence of its inhabitants in arts and arms, -with their prodigious victory over the Crotonians, appears to -justify their comparison with England. - - - XLII. “Her soul was all absorbed in his--her life - Was cast, since meeting, in another mould.” - - Und wenn du ganz in dem gefühle selig bist, - Nenn es dann wie du willst, - Nenn’s glück! herz! liebe! Gott! - Ich habe keinen namen - Dafür! Gefühl ist alles. - Goethe, _Faust_. - -“And when thou art perfectly blissful in that feeling, call it -what thou wilt--call it joy--heart--love--God! I have no name for -it--feeling is all!” - - - XLIII. “And pluck the golden apple from the bough.” - - Vel cùm decorum mitibus pomis caput - Autumnus arvis extulit, - Ut gaudet ... decerpens pyra, - Certantem et uvam purpuræ. - Hor. _Epod._ ii. - - XLVII. “Even the dread Cathedral leap - Chose the maid before dishonour.” - - ----Θυσίας - Παρθενίου θ’ αἵματος ὀρ- - γᾷ περιόργως ἐπιθυ- - μεῖν Θέμις. - Æschyl. _Agamem._ 216. - -“Of the sacrifice of virgin blood Diana is vehemently desirous.” - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto X. - - -I. - - Heavy the Morn, and sullenly and fierce - A thunder-storm o’ergathers Haya’s crest. - His rocky diadem red lightnings pierce, - Leap o’er each crag, and smite the eagle’s nest; - And volleying thunder rolls from East to West. - Now rain in gushing torrents drowns the sky; - Anon a fiery bolt on Mandal’s breast - Leaves its black scar;--anon the storm from high - O’er Bidasóa falls while winds like spirits cry! - - -II. - - Great Arthur seized the tempest as a boon, - His columns lit by glory to advance - Tow’rds Commissari, Bayonnette, and Rhune, - And entering tame the pride of haughty France. - Daring his mighty plan, whose toils enhance - The Fuéntarábian waters poured between. - A stronger than Bernardo wields the lance, - And Paladins again to quail are seen. - Our conquering footsteps Spain re-echoes proud, I ween. - - -III. - - For Roncesvalles is to Spain restored; - Her Mina’s legions fill its storied dell. - His Guerrilleros ’neath that Chief adored - ’Gainst the marauding Gaul have battled well. - And at Baigorri hark where grandly swell - The war-notes of Castile, while rush the wild - Partidas ringing many a Norman’s knell; - And sweep from France the forage she hath piled - On Spanish soil profaned, from stall and sheepfold mild. - - -IV. - - Unconsciously the lowing herds resent - Their change of masters, rudely by the horn - Seized in the foray while trabúcos bent - ’Gainst Gaulish bosoms vomit deathful scorn, - With loud explosive sound on Echo borne. - And innocent sheep in thousands piteous bleat - ’Gainst hands that will restore them ere the Morn - To the sweet fold, and oxen loud repeat - Moan upon moan, by bayonet pricked or firelock beat. - - -V. - - And on Ayrola’s rock is swift surprised - By Campbell’s highlanders a post of Gaul; - For not more firm the red-deer’s limb is poised - For strength and fleetness mixed than doth befal - Those hardy mountaineers whose shouts appal - The braves of France--as e’en surprised them more, - When first beheld by Vimieiro’s wall, - Their antique garb, such as in days of yore - (In them revived to-day) the Roman legions wore. - - -VI. - - Thus breaking fast the spirit of Gallia’s sons, - Great Arthur now begins his great emprize; - Where Bidasóa’s stream impetuous runs, - Resolved to pass though strenuous Soult defies. - And while the thunder-storm doth lash the skies, - His dread artillery’s ranged on Marcial’s flanks. - O’er the tall crest doth many a cannon rise; - His columns line the Bidasóa’s banks, - In silence poured along, and form their warlike ranks. - - -VII. - - Full many a howitzer by fair Irún, - While rages still the blast, its thunder hoards; - And there lies closely moored each strong pontoon, - Beneath the town. Where Bidasóa’s fords, - Through fishermen unawed by Gallic swords, - To lynx-eyed vigilance their soundings yield, - Castile shall pass and flout her tyrant lords. - With deftest skill the troops are all concealed - By Jonco, Biriatú, and Fuéntarabia’s field. - - -VIII. - - And near to fair Behóbia’s broken arch - The Lusitan battalion secret placed - Is with the British guards prepared to march - Beyond the Adour, till Gaul herself shall taste - Invasion’s sweets, her dreams of glory chased! - Still stand i’ the camp the tent-sheets as before, - Nor change appears nor new design embraced, - When breaks that clouded morn from mist-drops o’er - Pyrene’s towering hills, and gloom o’erspreads the shore. - - -IX. - - Beneath Andaye our bold brigades emerge, - And in two columns rapid cross the sand. - Silent as Death they gain the river’s verge, - They pass the fords, they reach the further land. - Then rose on high a rocket streaming grand, - The signal true from Fuéntarabia’s tower; - And howitzer and cannon briskly manned - From tall San Marcial raised their voice of power, - And covered with their fire the fords in peril’s hour. - - -X. - - Seven columns o’er the sand like serpents wind, - With crimson bright and azure scales bespread-- - The various garbs of Spain and England joined-- - And glancing bayonets bristle o’er each head; - No Hydra in Lernæan marsh so dread! - The Gaul o’ermatched can scarcely trust his eyes. - Confusedly gathering each with shame is red; - And form our lines beyond the stream ere flies - A hostile shot, so great that terrible surprise! - - -XI. - - Now mustering yet disordered forth they come, - For spreads the alarm: _Alerte! alerte!_’s the cry. - The hurrying leaders urge them--rolls the drum, - And to San Marcial’s thunderous guns reply - Their cannon from the Grand Monarque on high. - But all too late the movement--see, their camp - Beneath Andaye is carried manfully - At glittering point of bayonet. Nought can damp - The ardour of our men, or check their onward tramp. - - -XII. - - Vain, Boyer, thy decision--vain, Maucune, - Thy energy. Soult hears the cannonade - At Espelette, and rushes forth full soon; - But ere he comes his camps a prey are made - By Britain’s sons beneath Andaya’s shade. - Zugáramurdi feels the advancing power, - And D’Erlon sees his post by Fate betrayed-- - The Lusitan battalion’s fairest flower - Alone by France cut down in that eventful hour. - - -XIII. - - Our German Chasseurs now by Halket led - The Grand Monarque with vigorous footsteps climb. - Before their onset fierce the Gaul hath fled; - But, guardian of the pass, that peak sublime - Must not be yielded in an instant’s time. - Reille pours his masses on the mountain’s brow, - With field artillery, to efface the crime - Of light concession. Halt the Germans now, - For tired and wounded sore their spirits an instant bow. - - -XIV. - - But Cameron with his gallant warriors rushed - Straight through their broken ranks, and gained the peak, - Where stands the Wreathéd Cross. Ne’er torrent gushed - From Mandal more impetuous fierce to seek - The plain. Beneath the shock Gaul’s columns break. - First fly their cannon down the mountain-side, - And next--the mouths secured that dare not speak-- - To a lower ridge the infantry doth glide - Where forms their line, not yet abated all their pride. - - -XV. - - Narrow the pathway leading to the ridge, - Which now the Frenchmen clustering strongly hold; - But o’er it urge, like passing tiniest bridge, - In single column led by Cameron bold, - Our heroes as at Azincour of old. - The hill doth inward curve--concentrate fire - The foemen pour; but by the shout appalled - Of sturdiest freemen, swift the French retire, - The British bayonet ne’er withstanding in its ire. - - -XVI. - - And Freyre’s Spaniards now the peak have won - Of Mandal lording o’er his craggy slopes, - Where the Green Mountain glistens in the sun, - And tow’rds Urogne an easy pathway opes. - Thus turned his flanks, and foiled in front his hopes, - Reille by the causeway of Bayonne recedes, - Till Soult’s great voice the flight majestic stops. - In vain the foeman’s breast contending bleeds;-- - The Bidasóa’s won--not least of England’s deeds! - - -XVII. - - But yet the pass of Vera we must gain, - Where now Girón from Ivantelly’s come - And Longa with the skirmishers of Spain, - And Alten too with men Old England from-- - Not these the least, I ween, in Victory’s sum! - Dire were the works upon the heights above - Which Gaul could raise, but not the brave benumb. - And here was Nial, oft with tenderest love - Musing on Isabel, poor lorn and fluttering dove! - - -XVIII. - - The youth looked up: by outward posts defended - And star-redoubts he saw the Bayonnette; - The Commissari with that mountain blended - Was girt with abatís incessant met. - He thought those bulwarks would be England’s yet! - A gulf profound with skirmishers was filled, - And thickest woods where marksmen keen were set. - Rugged the path where Spain her hope must build, - With turns abrupt where men by striplings might be killed. - - -XIX. - - An isolated mountain midway rose-- - ’Tis called “The Boar”--by France’s warriors crowned; - And Longa’s guns and Colborne’s rifles chose - The toilsome task to gain this lofty ground-- - So high, though dwarfed amongst the peaks around, - That the spent musket-bullets singing fell - All harmless at its foot with feeble sound, - Which marksmen from the crest directed well - ’Gainst our advancing men, but none its tale could tell. - - -XX. - - The word is given, and swift our heroes climb - The mountain, Nial first their steps to guide. - A pine-wood’s gained far up in quickest time-- - They breathe a moment--with disdainful pride - Doth Nial dash each shadowing branch aside, - And forward rush, exclaiming, “On men, on!” - His gallant followers scorn secure to bide - Behind--the summit’s gained--the foemen wan - Scarce meet their dashing charge; an instant--they are gone! - - -XXI. - - Emboldened by this triumph rush the Allies; - Our columns plunge into the rough defile. - The dark ravine to the left with lusty cries - Is ta’en by Longa’s Leonese, the while - Colborne’s brigade o’er narrow pathways toil - To the Bayonnette with skirmishers before, - Breastwork, redoubt, and abatís to spoil. - With men and fire the slopes are covered o’er, - And curls white smoke above the forest-battle’s roar. - - -XXII. - - Through each intrenchment in the greater pass - Soon Kempt’s brigade doth force resistless sway, - His skirmishers wide scattered o’er the grass - To small detachments broke, as melt away - The lessening slopes into the ridges gray. - The platform’s won, and Colborne’s bold brigade - Of rifles far above, like huntsmen gay, - Is seen to emerge from forth the forest shade - To the broad space before the star-redoubt displayed. - - -XXIII. - - Nial was there, and swift he led his men - With rapid fire the strong redoubt to storm. - Their dark attire the French mistaking then - For garb of Southron soldiers, forth they swarm, - And face our caçadores in conflict warm. - Sudden their charge, and struggling hand to hand, - The firelock and its fixéd bayonet form - Against the unarméd rifle surer brand, - And shrill the Frenchmen cried as backward drew the band. - - -XXIV. - - But Nial with his sword the bayonet matched, - And as he fought upon the rocky verge - That bounds the platform, he a firelock snatched - From forth a Frenchman’s hands whom he did urge - At swordpoint till he slew him. While the surge - Of foemen rushed, he kept them all at bay, - Till from the forest swift our troops emerge. - Their crimson garb with panic struck the fray, - And Nial cheered his men to give their rifles play. - - -XXV. - - Then loud arose the sturdy British shout. - Rifles and foot in full career advance. - The foe to their intrenchment wheel about; - And England’s sons, improving well the chance, - The fort have entered with the sons of France. - Dense clouds of smoke o’er all the works ascended. - Sharp rang the musket, active played its lance. - But soon the mass of French and English blended - Emerged, while British cheers proclaimed the conflict ended. - - -XXVI. - - Up, up the crags the rapid Frenchman flies, - The powerful Briton following in his trail, - Till new intrenchment, new redoubts, arise. - Once more they stand--once more our troops assail - Their abatís, till France again doth quail. - And ever Nial flourished in the van - His faithful sword that turned the foeman pale, - And cheered his rifles on, and foremost ran, - Like gallant chief whose port gives courage to each man. - - -XXVII. - - And Colborne nobly guided the brigade, - Which now the mount hath carried to its crest; - But there a terrible redoubt’s displayed, - Where loop-holed works with musketry arrest - The brave who fall with many a piercéd breast. - No howitzer is there--no mountain-gun, - But missiles scarce less dire our troops molest; - For thundering down the steep comes many a stone, - Huge, rugged, dealing death, or shattering flesh and bone. - - -XXVIII. - - But Kempt’s brigade its toilsome way hath gained - With Andaluzan comrades up the steep, - And turned the fort’s left flank--’tis scarce attained, - When rush the foemen in disordered heap - Down the far hill-side to the valley deep. - The fort is our’s! The tricolor is torn - By Nial from the flag-staff at a leap; - And, Spain, thy lions and thy towers upborne - In many a victor field its summit proud adorn. - - -XXIX. - - The Bayonnette is won! The mountain’s brow - Doth bear a signal-tower whose beechen arms - Soult’s mandates wonted to transmit till now, - And o’er his lines convey with magic charms - Of fleetness War’s instructions and alarms. - “Now down,” quoth Nial, “with the wooden head, - Whose baleful movement oft the Spaniard harms. - His clumsy flourishes through æther sped - No more shall wound the Allies, no more by Soult be read.” - - -XXX. - - From Leon’s corps two sturdy pioneers - With gleaming axes clove the column’s foot. - The laughing Andaluz the tell-tale jeers: - “’Tis thus we lay the hatchet to the root.” - “That tree,” said Nial, “shall no more give fruit!” - The Andaluzes yet more fiercely mock, - Keen as the shafts their bullring Majos shoot:-- - “Now did king Joseph’s self receive the shock, - Right lustily the axe should cleave the senseless block!” - - -XXXI. - - Soon pierced the column round, till scarce a thread - Supports its weight:--“Look out--look out below!” - Another stroke--and stoops its monstrous head. - It sways--it topples o’er--first bending slow, - Then falls with mighty crash beneath the blow. - As when ’mid storms, some labouring ship to ease, - The mast is hewn away, and falls where flow - The seething billows--tackles, shrouds, and trees, - Canvass and cordage sink, a victim to the seas. - - -XXXII. - - Meanwhile great Arthur hath so well combined - His several forces tow’rds the frontier nigh, - That Commissari and Puérto, as designed, - Our flag now wear upon their summits high. - Five perilous hours our heroes by the cry - Of Freedom spurred, o’er crags stupendous toiling, - Have ceaseless fought where dead and wounded lie, - At every guarded post the Frenchman foiling, - And round Pyrene’s girth like powerful serpent coiling. - - -XXXIII. - - But now the greater Rhune must too be won, - And Colborne’s corps and Longa’s force the hill. - Through wooded gorge, up craggy slopes they run, - Then breathless pause--again with lusty will - Burst fresh and sparkling like a mountain rill. - And many and fleet the skirmishers of France, - With fusillade severe but conquering still, - They backward drive along the broad expanse, - And Nial’s gleaming sword was ever in advance. - - -XXXIV. - - Strong was the line of abatís that rose - Full in the path of Longa’s wearied men. - They halt irresolute before their foes, - Nor list to Longa’s voice nor mark his ken. - But Nial whom all loved was ’mongst them then, - And “_adelante_” crying waved his sword-- - Leapt o’er the abatís i’ the lion’s den. - The generous Spaniards bounded at the word, - Saved “the fair boy” and smote the French with one accord. - - -XXXV. - - To Rhune’s enormous sides the foemen fled, - Where ’neath Clausel the Gaul doth muster strong. - The Hermitage upon the mountain’s head - Is thick with arméd men,--though Fate should wrong, - Full stern resolved the contest to prolong. - By others not less fierce are held his flanks; - To Sarre and to Ascain extends the throng. - A lower ridge the greater Rhune embanks, - And this too bristles o’er with Gallia’s hostile ranks. - - -XXXVI. - - Now--now the Andaluzes scale the Rhune, - By Colborne’s caçadores supported still. - A musket-shot below the crest full soon - Their charge doth reach, to where a craggy hill - Detached doth rise. This natural bulwark fill - The skirmishers of France, whose fusillade - Not long withstands the assailants’ vengeful will. - The bulwark’s cleared, the pathway free is made, - And up the Spaniards climb--nor ask for British aid. - - -XXXVII. - - But from the Hermitage terrific rocks - Come bounding fierce, of such enormous size, - That seemeth each of those succeeding shocks - Enough to sink a column ne’er to rise! - Not Valour’s self can with unmovéd eyes - That horrid task of Sisyphus survey. - Appalled and unadvancing the allies - With distant fire along the mountain way - The foe in vain assail, withheld by dire dismay. - - -XXXVIII. - - But saw great Arthur now with Lyncean ken, - Though Rhune was there impregnable, a side - Which might a pathway open to his men, - And give their arms of Gaul to tame the pride. - O’er Sarre the ascent arose more fair and wide, - And strongly there concentred the brigades - Assail the rocks that long approach defied. - The rocks are won--the Gaulish valour fades,-- - And won a height intrenched their camp at Sarre which shades. - - -XXXIX. - - From Echallar on Barbe our men descend, - And win the fort with British shouts of power. - The camp of Sarre’s outflanked, Clausel doth end - Resistance there, retiring in that hour. - He dreads his rear cut off, resigns his tower - Of strength--the greater Rhune, and takes his stand - Upon the lesser height. But soon the flower - Of Britain’s rifles crown the mountain grand, - And from the Hermitage the lower heights command. - - -XL. - - And while the garrison was swift retiring - From that strong ground, their path young Nial crost - With six poor rifles not a shot e’en firing, - When forth the gallant stept, and from his post, - “Lay down your arms!” he shouted to the host-- - Three hundred men! His mandate they obeyed, - Scared by that voice of power, and deeming lost - All means of ’scape. Resistance none they made, - And Nial at their head regained his bold brigade. - - -XLI. - - And when the eye of England’s glorious Chief, - Great Arthur, fell with favour on the youth, - And praise he spoke in stirring words though brief, - Such as with thought impregnate all and truth - It was his wont to utter, Envy’s tooth - Of calumny to silence proudly shaming, - Beat Nial’s heart, and soldiers all uncouth - Felt tears well nigh to flow, the stripling naming - So loved by all, their hearts with gentlest Valour taming. - - -XLII. - - And Nial thought upon his Isabel, - For all his proudest feelings centred there, - Prophetic that the maid he loved so well - The praise would echo sweetly, smiling fair; - And while his brow a loftier plume doth wear - Through glory for that day’s achievements done, - With her he thought the joyous fruits to share, - With her to feel the glow of Victory’s sun, - For still for her and Spain was Freedom’s battle won. - - -XLIII. - - Now our’s the Bidasóa, our’s the Rhune, - And Bayonnette, and Commissari too. - Oh France! thy fields shall now be entered soon, - For at our feet the fair Nivelle doth flow. - Saint Jean de Luz, thy vesper-lights below - O’erhang the Gascon gulf. Invasion’s tread - Hath passed thy border, yet no sound of wo - Shall rend thy sky, thy homes shall mourn no dead, - For Justice now humane with Britain’s arms is wed. - - -XLIV. - - The wail of San Sebastian reached thy heart, - Great Arthur, and provoked the stern command, - Which none may dare dispute. The conqueror’s part - Shall Mercy temper in the Gaulish land. - Now on Pyrene’s farthest summit stand - Thy legions bolder than e’er Cæsar’s arm - To victory marshalled. Every crag was manned - By arméd foes, yet quelled is War’s alarm - Through Spain, such Valour’s power, such godlike Freedom’s charm! - - -XLV. - - But mourn the brave who nobly fighting fell - Upon Pyrene’s mountains, mourn the brave - Whose breasts were pierced, where strove those bosoms well, - And, ah, too oft have found not e’en a grave! - For o’er those pathless solitudes the wave - Of War hath rolled, and ’mid those regions vast - Full many a wounded man, with none to save, - Hath sighed his aidless death-groan to the blast, - And vultures strip the bones which Heaven will clothe at last! - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO X. - - -The Passage of the Bidasoa, with the military movements which -immediately ensued, completing that operation and establishing the -left wing of our army on the soil of France, occupies the entire of -this Canto. The events with which it deals will be found very fully -and satisfactorily recorded in Napier’s _History_, book xxii. chap. -4. The thunder-storm which rolled over the district on the eventful -morning chosen by Wellington for this remarkable strategical -evolution is by no means exaggerated in the text. It is in the -Pyrenees that thunder is witnessed to perfection. The exploits -which in this Canto I attribute to Nial have all their foundation -in the genuine history of the campaign. - -General Alten had the command of the Light Division, and the Rifle -corps, to which I suppose Nial to have belonged, was under the -immediate guidance of the gallant Colborne. - -Captain Batty’s description of the Passage of the Bidasoa, with -which operation, the first in which he shared, he commences -his _Campaign of the Western Pyrenees_, is very animated, and -illustrated by spirited etchings of the event of the Passage and of -Pyrenean scenery. His view of Fuenterrabia and of the mountain of -Jaizquibel is particularly deserving of praise. It is impossible -to describe the effect upon my feelings of going over this heroic -mountain ground from Andaye to the Louis Quatorze, from Bildox and -Mandale to the Bayonnette and Commissari, and from thence to the -greater Rhune. - -The allusion in the commencement of this Canto to the Vale of -Baigorri refers to the rescue of an enormous amount of forage by -Mina’s Guerrilla from the French, including 2,000 sheep. - -The pastoral habits, to which large districts in Spain are still -addicted, cause the people to occupy five times the extent of land, -which with agricultural pursuits would be sufficient for their -maintenance. The pastoral institution of the _mesta_ encourages the -feeding of sheep, and the enormous migratory flocks of Estremadura -and elsewhere move every year some hundreds of miles, devastating -the tracts over which they pass. “By the increase of pasture,” -says Sir Thomas More, “your sheep, that are naturally mild, may -be said now to devour men, and unpeople, not only villages, but -towns.”--_Utopia_, book i. The invaders found their account in this -primitive system, and their entire subsistence was derived from -ready plunder. The French in their Peninsular prowlings resembled -in one other respect, as well as in their Republican and Heathen -names, the Lacedæmonians, who held a grand hunt annually, in which -the agricultural peasantry were pursued and destroyed like wild -beasts--a fact which, though Müller questions the testimony that -supports it, is as well authenticated as any other incident in the -Dorian history. The argument, taken from the improbable inhumanity -of the fact, is refuted by the modern practices of the French in -Spain and Portugal, and in their Algerian Razzias to this hour. -They differ from the Lacedæmonians, it would seem, in this, that -the Spartans perpetrated the enormity only once a year, while the -French perform it weekly. I have seen with my own eyes the ravages -which they have left in the Peninsula, the glorious monuments of -antiquity which they have disfigured and defaced, the desecration -which they have brought upon shrine and tomb. And, much as I may -be disposed to forget and forgive, it is not easy to suppress -one’s choler amidst the mutilated glories of Burgos, Alcobaça, and -Batalha. - - - II. “The Fuéntarábian waters poured between.” - - When Charlemagne with all his peerage fell - By Fontarabia. - Milt. _Par. Lost_, i. 586. - -In this name, I have departed slightly from the Spanish -orthography, a corruption of the Latin _Fons rapidus_, and made -“_errabia_” “_arabia;_” in deference to the example of Milton, and -for the sake of the excellent musical effect in connection with one -of the finest names in romance. - - - V. “When first beheld by Vimieiro’s wall.” - -Vimieiro is merely a village about 35 miles N.N.W. of Lisbon, where -the accommodations are so miserable that it was with difficulty I -could procure a _calda de gallinha_ (boiled fowl served up with -its broth) the only thing in the shape of comfortable nourishment -which is to be had in the country parts of Portugal. The walls -referred to are therefore, as may be supposed, not turret-crowned -like Berecynthian Cybele. For the allusion to the effect produced -on the French by the sight of our Highlanders first met by them in -this battle, see Southey, _Hist. Penins. War_, and Campbell, _Ode -for the Highland Society_. - - - VI. “Where Bidasoa’s stream impetuous runs.” - -The Passage of the Bidasoa took place on the 7th October, a month -after the fall of San Sebastian. The morning was heavy and louring, -and the day’s work was ushered in by a thunder-storm (already -referred to) which caused the early British operations to be -happily unperceived. - - - VII. “To lynx-eyed vigilance their soundings yield.” - -“By the help of Spanish fishermen he had secretly discovered three -fords, practicable at low water, between the bridge of Behobia and -the sea.” Napier, _Hist. War in the Penins._ book xxii. chap. 4. - - - XI. “Their cannon from the Grand Monarque on high.” - -The mountain of Louis XIV., overhanging the Bidasoa at Biriatú, -where the French had their principal battery. - - - XII. “The Lusitan battalion’s fairest flower,” - -The Portuguese brigade lost one hundred and fifty men. - - - XIV. “The peak where stands the wreathéd cross.” - -The Croix des Bouquets--a height adjoining the mountain of Louis -XIV. - - - XV. “The British bayonet ne’er withstanding in its ire.” - -This is no boast. It is a fact attested by the whole of our -Peninsular and Belgian campaigns that the French never withstood -one bayonet charge, and scarcely ever, indeed, would cross that -weapon with us. - - - XVI. “Where the green mountain glistens in the sun.” - -Bildox, called the Sierra Verde, a little northward of the Mandale -mountain. - - “The Bidasoa’s won--not least of England’s deeds.” - - “This stupendous operation.” - Napier, _Hist. War in the Penins._, - book xxii. chap. 4. - - - XXII. ----“Colborne’s bold brigade - Of Rifles far above, like huntsmen gay.” - - Des jägers muth ist immer grün, - Und aus dem grünen muth soll blühn - Ein blümlein blutig roth, - Soll heissen feindes tod. * * - Mein schatz gab mir ’nen silbern ring, - Dass ich ihr einen gold’nen bring’; - Der ring soll sein entwandt - Von eines Franzmanns hand! - Rückert. - -“The jäger’s courage (like his raiment) is evergreen, and out of -the green courage shall spring a blood-red flowret, and be called -Death to the Foe! * * My beloved gave to me a silver ring, that -I may bring her a ring of gold. The ring shall be taken from a -Frenchman’s hand!” - - - XXIV. ----“A firelock snatched - From forth a Frenchman’s hand whom he did urge - At sword point till he slew him,” &c. - - Tancredi con un colpo il ferro crudo - Del nemico ribatte, e lui fere anco: - Nè poi, ciò fatto, in ritirarsi tarda, - Ma si raccoglie, e si ristringe in guarda. - Tasso, Gerus. _Lib._ vi. 43. - - - XXVI. “Like gallant chief whose port gives courage to each man.” - - ----como sabio capitão, - Tudo corria, e via, e a todos dava - Com presença e palavras coração. - Camóens, _Lus._ iv. 36. - - - XXIX. ----“The mountain’s brow - Doth bear a signal tower whose beechen arms.” - -“Longa was also to send some men over the river to Andarlasa, to -seize a telegraph which the French used to communicate between the -left and centre of their line.” Napier, xxii. 4. - - - XXXIV. “And ‘_adelante!_’ crying, waved his sword.” - -“_Adelante!_” which signifies “forward,” is the word of -encouragement used at charging in the Spanish service. - - “Saved ‘the fair boy,’ and smote the French with one accord.” - -This act of bravery was performed almost literally as described, -by an officer of the 43rd regiment named Havelock. The Spaniards -shouted for _el chico blanco_, “the fair boy,” and followed him -into the abatis. - - - XXXVIII. “But saw great Arthur now with Lyncean ken.” - - ἴδεν Λυγκεὺς. κείνου γὰρ ἐπιχθονίων - πάντων γένετ’ ὀξύτατον - ὄμμα. - Pind. _Nem._ x. - -“Lynceus saw. For his sight was of all men’s the sharpest.” See -also Theocritus. (_Idyl._ 27.) “Lynceo perspicacior” became an -adage. - - ----Prolesque Aphareïa Lynceus - Et velox Idas. - Ovid. _Met._ viii. 304. - - - XL. “‘Lay down your arms!’ he shouted to the host.” - -This adventure actually occurred to the gallant Colborne. -“Accompanied by only one of his staff and half-a-dozen riflemen, he -crossed their march unexpectedly, and with great presence of mind -and intrepidity ordered them (three hundred men) to lay down their -arms, an order which they thinking themselves entirely cut off -obeyed.” (Napier, _Hist._ book xxii. chap. 4.) - - - XLV. “And vultures strip the bones which Heaven will clothe at - last!” - - ----οἱ δ’ ἐπὶ γαίῃ - Κείατο, γύπεσσιν πολὺ φίλτεροι ἢ ἀλόχοισιν. - Hom. _Il._ xi. 161. - -“Upon the ground they lay, far dearer to the vultures than to their -wives!”--one of the most terrible lines that ever was written. - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto XI. - - -I. - - There are two Fountains in the Vale of Life, - That flow for lovers--one with nectar runs, - The other poison! One with joy is rife, - The other with a deadly gurgle stuns. - Their stream commingles for all Eva’s sons - And daughters who with mutual passion thrill. - None, none may drink the nectar pure, which shuns - All human lips till with the poison-rill - ’Tis mixed, and happiest they whose cups the least may fill! - - -II. - - And Young Love sits upon a flowery knoll - Where those two streamlets mix, his shafts he dips - In their joint flow, and ceaseless twangs at all - Who pass his ivory bow with wanton quips. - But in the honeyest kiss of human lips - There lurks a poison--ay, when hearts most mingle, - Doth Fate perchance prepare his scorpion whips; - And nerves that with the keenest rapture tingle - Shall haply curse the hour when ceased they to be single! - - -III. - - ’Twas a delicious, soft autumnal eve; - Salustian through his lovely garden strayed, - By Isabel supported. Mountains heave - Their giant forms to Heaven, Pyrene’s shade - Thrown to the Frenchward side. His bulwarks made - A fence the westering sunbeam to reflect, - And balmy gales from many an opening glade - Came soft the old man’s forehead to protect - From fiercer rays, while moved his form no more erect. - - -IV. - - And, as on Isabel’s sustaining arm - He passed ’neath trellised vine that dropt its load - Of blooming clusters near their heads, the charm - Of youthful beauty in that fair abode - More interest took from sorrows that corrode - The old man’s brow beside her. Ne’er was seen - A lovelier picture than the pains bestowed - On that ripe senior by that maiden green-- - No sire more grave, no maid more dutiful I ween. - - -V. - - Between the apple-trees with loaded boughs - Peeped ever and anon Ernani’s towers, - And Haya tops them with his craggy brows, - And distant Jaizquibel where tempest lours - So oft serenely smiles. Through scented bowers - Of orange, jasmine, myrtle, balm, they pass, - And Isabel now tends, now plucks the flowers, - A nosegay for her sire, while dew like glass - In beads begins to strew the eve-reviving grass. - - -VI. - - Not fairer opened in Alcina’s isle - Upon Ruggiero’s wild, enchanted view - The magic garden, mightiest wings the while - Furled the aërial steed on which he flew. - Not fairer that to which Armida drew - The Christian Knight whom fatal toils ensnared, - Where side by side the fruit and blossoms grew, - The bough green apples with the golden shared, - And the full ripened with the nascent fig compared. - - -VII. - - Salustian to the sheltering house returned - For twilight’s bland repose, and Isabel - Amongst the flowers she loved till night sojourned, - Then to a bower retired in distant dell - Upon the garden’s verge she cherished well, - For there full oft with Nial joyous seated - She deep had drunk of Love’s delicious spell, - And many a Vascon legend oft repeated, - And now with thought of him the tedious hours she cheated. - - -VIII. - - Sudden a tall gaunt man before her stood, - With hat broad-flapping slouched upon his face, - Xaquéta and buckled shoon: in masking mood - He seemed, half-monk and half of worldlier race. - He raised his head, his features showed apace. - Screamed Isabel who saw ’twas Fray Beltrán, - Don Carlos’ brother who a rival place - Had sought in Isidora’s heart, and ran, - When Carlos he had smote, to cloisters fenced from man. - - -IX. - - Now glared his eye with fearful purpose--swift - He caught her wrist--she screamed again: “Thou’lt come - “With me!” he said--she struggled--he did lift - Her in his arms, where swooned the maid struck dumb - With terror--to a steed he bore her from - The bower, upon its shoulder laid her form, - Then sprang to the saddle ere her senses numb - Revived, and galloped swift his courser warm, - Till on an ocean-cliff he stood ’neath gathering storm. - - -X. - - Here by steep paths he led the maid perforce - Adown the cliff amid the seamew’s wail. - Terrific were the perils of their course, - And Isabel with sobs outsighed the gale. - Oh, dire to see that beauty lorn and pale! - At length so difficult the rude descent, - That in his arms he lifted her;--no jail - She dreaded like those arms, and shuddering bent - Away and shrieked, but none to aid the maiden went. - - -XI. - - Within a lofty cave and wide they now - Together stood, the ocean-wave before, - Stalactites pendent from its rocky brow, - And moon-lit shells and shingle strewed the floor. - Little of these thought Isabel, though more - Delighted none with Nature’s works than she, - In calmer hours. Beltrán she doth implore - On bended knees with tears full sad to see, - And prayers and passionate sobs, to set her stainless free. - - -XII. - - He shook his head: “Oh dread, mysterious man, - “What would’st thou with me here?”--“Not harm a hair - “Of thine, most beauteous maiden.” Curdling ran - Her blood, for she did think he mocked her prayer. - “If just thy purpose, why felonious tear - “Me from my father’s side--my father ailing?” - She wept again: “My innocence, oh, spare---- - “Release me”--but her prayers were unavailing, - And loud resounded all the cavern with her wailing. - - -XIII. - - “Now hear me,” said Beltrán, while flashed his eye - With supernatural light, and instant flushed - His pale and haggard cheek. “My destiny - “Thou know’st is terrible as e’er hath hushed - The heart of man, or youthful spirit crushed. - I loved, and in a brother found, oh God! - A rival--all unconsciously I rushed - And stabbed him--then a cloister’s pavement trod, - And sought relief in prayer, in monkish fast, and rod. - - -XIV. - - “But vain the toil. Thy image, Isidor, - For ever haunted thus my troubled brain. - The prisoned lion doth the fiercer roar, - And chafed my tortured spirit ’neath its chain. - The thought that Isidora”--’Twas in vain - He checked the tears that here began to flow, - Tears that like molten fire adown did rain.-- - “The thought that _she_ could not be mine--the wo - Unutterable racked my brain to madness--so! - - -XV. - - “The sack of San Sebastian came to ope - My convent-door which War’s dread fire consumed. - Kindled that fire in me a ray of hope. - I rushed to your house--but found its Lar entombed - In smouldering ashes. Like a spirit doomed, - I wandered then Guipúscoa’s confines through, - When chance another ray of Hope illumed. - I found the garden, saw your sire and you, - But nought of Isidor could learn, nor e’er could view. - - -XVI. - - “All thought of her I checked--but while my soul - Shook with its mortal agony I sought - Relief in the design to this rude goal - To bear thee, maiden, as I now have brought, - And gaze upon thy face where Nature wrought - Such likeness unto _her_--but fear not harm - From me! Thou’rt as a sister dear, whom nought - Shall dare to injure. Let me drink the charm - Of thy sweet face i’ the Moon--nay, curb thy vain alarm! - - -XVII. - - “’Tis her’s I see in thine--her angel face - In thee depictured. In the moonlight stand, - I pray thee, Isabel.”--On that lone place - The sound of oars and voices from the strand - Fell--’tis the Basque barqueras come to land; - And straight they fill the cave, where from the storm - They seek retreat. Amazed the Nereid band - Behold the frayle’s and the maiden’s form; - But soon the mystery solved uproused their spirits warm. - - -XVIII. - - “Go, Frayle, to thy book and to thy beads; - With dame or damsel nought concerns thee more. - Off to thy cloister, breviary, and weeds, - Or straight we’ll drive thee forth with lusty oar, - Laid on thy shoulders till no bull shall roar - On Guetaría’s plain more loud than thou. - The peerless lily, Doña Isidor, - Whom thou so madly lov’dst, is buried now - In Santiago’s green, where lilies o’er her bow.” - - -XIX. - - Dire was the change in all his face, when heard - This fatal news he ne’er before had learned. - He gasped with horror--nor could e’en a word - Put forth--his jawbone fell--as pale he turned - As monumental marble, for inurned - His hopes lay in her tomb. Upon his face - Grief stamped a fearful image. He sojourned - But for an instant more--“’Tis lilies grace - “Her grave?” he said--they nod--he roelike fled the place! - - -XX. - - Soon found the blithe Barqueras dry old wood, - And kindled fire i’ the centre of the cave. - Bright flashed the blaze, and sparkling keener stood - The dark-eyed daughters of the ocean-wave, - But brighter flashed, that thus they came to save - In peril’s hour, the eyes of Isabel. - Her glances eloquent the tribute gave - Of gratitude, nor looked she e’er so well - As when the o’erflowing heart threw Beauty’s softer spell. - - -XXI. - - Her mobile face with play of sweetest smiles - Gives forth her innocent thoughts and nought conceals: - An aspect changeful still that ne’er beguiles, - For every change a beauty new reveals, - Its form vibrating as her bosom feels. - As some fair lake reflects each passing cloud, - Each sun-bright ray that o’er its bosom steals, - So were her looks with mirror truth endowed, - Nor could she, if she would, emotion’s play enshroud. - - -XXII. - - “Oh, Isidor’s and Blanca’s blessing fall - “From Heaven upon your heads!” she weeping cried. - At Blanca’s name the maidens kist her all, - In memory of their Armadilla’s pride. - From Contrabandist stores, the cavern wide - Embosomed, then refreshment meet they drew; - And while the flickering blaze, as nightwinds sighed, - In light or shade their beauties lambent threw, - They waited till more calm the Ocean grow to view. - - -XXIII. - - ’Twas after Sunset but the second hour, - When Nial from the Bidasoa came, - Glowing with valour’s pride and passion’s power, - And eager to recount the army’s fame - To Isabel--for sealed a blushing shame - His lips to his own daringness of deed, - And to conceal it e’en was oft his aim. - Swift lit the hero from his foaming steed, - And met Salustian wild distracted, borne at speed: - - -XXIV. - - “Hast seen her? Hast thou seen my daughter? Say, - “Know’st thou aught of my girl?”--“Great Heaven, what means - “Thy question?”--“They have ta’en my girl away-- - “One, one was not enough. Oh, Hell-born scenes - “Of War!” An instant’s breathing-time he leans - On Nial. “Isabel--.” “Who dared to harm?” - Quoth Nial, flashing terrible wrath, then gleans - From the old man, how, sleeping, the alarm - Reached him that she was torn away by a stranger’s arm, - - -XXV. - - And then to horse, and galloped out of sight, - But none knew whither--none who dared aspire. - Swift to his steed leapt Nial airy light, - His nostril panting with excitement dire, - His lips compressed with fearful purpose--ire - And vengeance from his eagle glances fly. - “Stay--stay; I join thee,” cried the plundered sire. - “Stir not for love of Heaven!” was the reply. - Salustian screamed: “I go! Who so bereaved as I?” - - -XXVI. - - Vain Nial’s words--Salustian would to horse: - “Then let your ailing master be your care,” - Quoth Nial to Salustian’s men. “Remorse - “Be his who shall neglect my fervent prayer, - “That, if he still will follow, slow ye fare!” - He spurred his generous charger--at a bound - Crost half the court-yard, learnt the route to bear - Upon the robber’s track, and soon the sound - Of his steed’s hoofs was lost upon the mountain-ground. - - -XXVII. - - Vain his long gallop, vain his bird-like speed, - Vain every turn and venture far and near. - Sad, sad grew Nial’s heart, and ’gan to bleed, - While from his eye fell many a bitter tear. - O’er leagues of mountain heath did nought appear, - Save his own shadow and his steed’s i’ the Moon - Reflected long and dreary as the year - It seemed since he had parted, vowing soon - To meet, from Isabel thus lost in Beauty’s noon! - - -XXVIII. - - He sickened at the thought of what might be, - And let his weary charger pace at will, - While o’er the heath Salustian rapidly - At peril of his life through dale and hill - Careered, grief’s energy sustaining still. - “Oh Nial, know’st thou aught?”--A tear he shed, - More speaking Silence than might volumes fill. - The old man tore his hair. His steed they led - By the rein, and held his hands in pity for his head. - - -XXIX. - - Thus by the far-resounding shore they past, - High o’er the bosom of the heaving main, - When reached their ears upon the lulling blast - A chorus sweet that seemed to ease their pain. - Their eyes cast downward o’er the Ocean-plain - Beheld the Basque barqueras distant ply - Their shallops in the moonlight, like a chain - Of jet o’er sparkling emerald. Both drew nigh - To the cliff’s edge, amazed a sight so strange to espy. - - -XXX. - - Sudden the chorus ceased--the shallops stopt-- - The oars arose like spear-shafts in the air; - “_Parad!_” a voice exclaimed, like music dropt - Upon the gale that hastened swift to bear - The summons to the victims of Despair. - Down fell the oars again, and swift each hand - The green wave lashed, till urged those Nereids fair - Their prows with rival speed upon the strand, - And soon in beauteous file upon the beach they land. - - -XXXI. - - Great Heaven! what is’t? ’Tis she, ’tis Isabel, - That from the midst takes rapidly the lead, - With eager cry of transport. Each full well - Of each the features recognized. His steed - Soon Nial left, and sprang with headlong speed - Adown the cliff, of Isabel’s alarms - And imminent perils taking little heed. - His magnet strong was her recovered charms, - Nor drew he foot nor breath till clasped within his arms! - - -XXXII. - - Oh, rapturous embrace! oh, tenfold joy, - All sweeter for the racking grief sustained. - Salustian shook with transport to destroy, - Upon the cliff where he perforce remained, - By iron bonds of age and sickness chained. - But swift sweet Isabel to cheer him flew, - Like beauteous fawn, and soon the summit gained, - And wept with bliss, and on her bosom true - The old man’s weary head sustained, and kist anew. - - -XXXIII. - - And soon her story wondrous strange was told, - Beltrán’s devoted frenzy, harmless all, - And how the Basque barqueras, even though bold - And criminal his passion, seemed to fall - From Heaven to her relief. From Vascon tall, - Salustian’s servitor, doth Nial here - Take well-trained steed, then lift her wrapt in shawl; - And, homeward wending, Heaven received a tear - Of gratitude for her who now was doubly dear. - - -XXXIV. - - And many a noble gift Salustian sent - With old Hidalgo lavishment to mark - His grateful spirit to the maids who went - To aid his daughter when the sky was dark, - And safely bore to his arms in gallant bark. - But what of San Sebastian ’mid this play - Of grief and joy alternate? Is no ark - Of saving launched upon the torrent spray, - That swept her homes? Alas, still desolate are they! - - -XXXV. - - In Santiago’s burial-green, while fall - The struggling moonbeams from a stormy sky, - With brilliance now unclouded, now with pall - Of darkness shadowed intermittingly, - A haggard, gaunt, and ghostly form doth try - Each mound of earth for some peculiar sign, - With preternatural strides and gleaming eye - Doth pass from grave to grave, from line to line, - With eye more fearful bright then halt and cry: “’Tis thine!” - - -XXXVI. - - ’Twas Fray Beltrán, who ’mongst the graves had found, - With instinct’s fatal truth and frenzy’s lore, - The lilies planted o’er the new-raised mound, - That hid the Vascon lily, Isidor! - And as some mariner a rock-bound shore - Doth find in shipwreck, where his limbs are cast - And dashed to pieces with the saving oar, - So baleful was this sight of earth that passed - Before Beltrán’s red eyes, and like to prove their last! - - -XXXVII. - - With nerves mad-strung he knelt upon the sod, - And deeply groaned, and raised a fervent prayer. - That prayer, ah me, it was not breathed to God; - It seemed the very echo of Despair! - Nor yet the name of Heaven invoked he there, - But loud at first he called the Fiend and Hell, - Till breathed the name of Isidora fair, - All ’midst his anguish dire it was a spell, - Melting his heart to tears that now in torrents fell! - - -XXXVIII. - - “Oh, lily torn and crushed,” he said, “thou art gone! - Mine--mine--though Fate had given thee to another. - Let cold, weak hearts condemn the love whose dawn - Was ere the altar bound thee to a brother. - I sought that world-condemnéd love to smother-- - As well might stifle a volcano, bind - The ocean-wave, or bid the yearning mother - Curse her first-born. The cloister more enshrined - Thy image--Solitude the gold but more refined! - - -XXXIX. - - “Sack-cloth, the fast, the scourge could not o’ercome - The force of passion tyrant-strong like this; - Heart-rooted, it can ne’er be torn but from - My heart with life. Grief, anguish, Death e’en, miss - The aim to mar it. Memory’s self is bliss-- - An anguished bliss--the only I can know. - My love hath fed on agony. A kiss, - Stol’n from thee once unwilling, soothed my wo, - When after days of fast had laid me fainting low! - - -XL. - - “Cloisters are not for me. Ascetic bands, - Although of iron, chain not souls like mine. - Withes bind not giants, twirled by pigmy hands. - Earth’s hidden fires the globe cannot confine. - They burst in lava torrents! Shade divine - Of Isidor, the fires within my breast - Consume me--for a sight of thee I pine. - Thy lovely lips must yet once more be prest, - Even though in death, or ere I find eternal rest!” - - -XLI. - - Then with a frantic energy he tore - The earth light-piled upon the new-made grave; - Digging with kite-like nails till they were sore, - But slow his progress, dire the toil he gave. - Ill brooked his soul of time to be the slave. - Again he tore the earth, till stiff and numb - His hands refuse the task. Not demons rave - More wild than he; he shrieked and howled o’ercome; - And tears like molten lead descend till he is dumb! - - -XLII. - - Sudden a thought flashed o’er him--he is gone, - Swift as the antelope, and soon returns - With spade and mattock--unto Heaven ’tis known - Where found, but frantic energy that burns - Like his the will that shapes a way inurns; - And rapid his career the churchyard ’mid. - Now, now the clay to either side he spurns - With swift-plied implements in earth deep hid, - And now his mattock strikes upon a coffin-lid! - - -XLIII. - - He yelled for joy! In vain his fingers flew - To loose the firm new lid--it mocks his art. - His toil with ten-fold zeal he doth renew, - And clear the earth away from every part. - Oh now, how glare his eyes, how bounds his heart! - Gently his mattock’s pressure is applied - ’Twixt lid and coffin till the strong nails start; - Gently, for all is sacred by her side, - Loveliest of Vascon maids, who Virtue’s martyr died! - - -XLIV. - - The lid is moved--the beauteous face unveiled, - Whose beauty not e’en violent death could mar. - That instant forth the Moon sublimely sailed - From darkest cloud that long its stormy bar - To her light opposed, and shone o’er every star, - Peerless in Heaven as Isidor on earth. - Heart-piercing was the cry that pealed afar, - As threw Beltrán his form on hers, in mirth - Hysteric mixed with sobs, and clasped her frozen girth, - - -XLV. - - And kist her icy lips--ah me, ’twas cold - Reply to love that like a furnace glowed; - Love that all lawless and forbidden told - Its tale more fierce that o’er such bounds it strode-- - The solemn bounds ’twixt Life and Death’s abode, - ’Twixt Transience and Eternity! Her form - Was fresh and pure, Decay could not corrode - So soon its loveliness. Beltrán i’ the storm - Still kist as if his breath her lifeless clay could warm. - - -XLVI. - - But vain his kisses, vain his burning tears, - Though poured in showers like those that left the sky. - Man cannot weep for aye--his brain it sears - To feel such anguish as Beltrán made cry - Beneath the withering stroke of Destiny! - Up from the grave he sprang, and fiercely bore - The coffin-lid--its parts asunder fly-- - With spade and mattock into lengths he tore - The stubborn wood, and thus the grave he laid them o’er. - - -XLVII. - - And from the churchyard near he gathered stones, - And deftly filled the spaces ’twixt the wood; - Then took what came to hand,--or clay or bones-- - And wedged each interstice with worm’s old food, - And when the work was done pronounced it good! - Then o’er the deathful pit thus covered in - He heaped the earth beside the margins strewed, - Leaving but at the head a fissure thin - For meagre body worn by sorrow and by sin! - - -XLVIII. - - He entered worming through the aperture - With cautious care lest all his toil should fail, - And smiled he last to see the work so sure, - Then drew his head within the covert frail. - He laid him down beside that beauty pale, - And with his hands the boards he turned aside, - Destroying the slight arch that propt his gaol. - The earth-fall smothered the last words he cried: - “Though severed in our lives, yet Death could not divide!” - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO XI. - - -The character of Fray Beltrán, as portrayed in this Canto, is meant -to represent a portion of the extraordinary and irregular energies -which the events of the French Revolution and Invasion produced -in Spanish cloisters. It is with a view to impart variety to my -subject, that I have dwelt upon love and madness as the shapes -which Beltrán’s wild energy assumed, though political propagandism, -patriotic denunciation of the French, and even taking up arms, were -acts familiar to the Exclaustrados or expelled inmates of religious -houses, violated by the ruthless invader--often for the purpose of -converting cloisters into stables! - -In these transactions, the French took one way of realising Sir -Thomas More’s “Happy Republic.” “In no victory do they glory so -much, as in that which is gained without bloodshed.” They rejoiced -to triumph by fraud, like the ancient Spartans, or liker perhaps -the Egyptian Harami--incorporated for plunder. The monks and -friars of the Peninsula were not all, however, helpless. Many fled -to the mountains and marshalled or joined Guerrilla parties, and -there was scarcely a Guerrilla throughout Spain during the War -of Independence that had not some monks and friars incorporated -with it. This system continues down to the present hour, and the -accession of these clerical auxiliaries has ever thrown a sort of -halo over the pursuit in a superstitious country. “_La Patria y la -Religion!_” was a potent cry, and the life of perpetual adventure -was in the highest degree exciting and romantic. - -But the poetical view of the Guerrillas must be counterbalanced -by the more strictly historical view of their character. It is -questionable whether these irregular levies did not produce -nearly as much evil as good. Candour must confess that there was -as much robbery as patriotism in the system. Amongst the leaders -of the _partidas_ personal interests were too often predominant. -Discipline under such a system is of course impossible, and each -man’s object is naturally to secure the largest share of the -plunder for himself. The leaders of the different _partidas_ were -terribly jealous of each other; and one of the first exploits of -Espoz y Mina, the most distinguished of all their chiefs, was to -slay the leader of a Guerrilla band in his neighbourhood, because -he plundered his own countrymen under the mask of patriotism: he -was also, doubtless, in Mina’s way. All through Mina’s career, -“he would never suffer any _partida_ but his own to be in his -district.” (_Life of Mina._) The irregularity inherent in the -Guerrilla system of warfare encouraged violence, license, and -disregard for the rights of property. The _partidas_ were an -admirable instrument for raising a whole people against the -invader; but the application of the force was subsequently -misdirected, and the surprise of Figueras was the only service of -first-rate importance that they ever performed in Spain. Their -minor exploits were, however, innumerable, and the disparaging -observations of Napier, Foy, and St. Cyr, all regular military men, -are to be received with caution. - -The course of life of the Spanish Guerrillero, commencing often as -a soldier, then becoming a deserter, next flying to the mountains -and turning robber, and lastly turning soldier on his own account, -closely resembles the description of the Roman Spartacus by -Florus:--“Ille de stipendiario Thrace miles, de milite desertor, -inde latro, deinde in honore virium gladiator.... Exercitum -percecidit ... castra delevit ... in primo agmine fortissimè -dimicans.” (_Lib. iii. cap._ 30.) - -It is not intended to palliate the numerous acts of jealousy, -hatred, treachery, and plunder, which our army sustained from -Spanish and Portuguese allies. But many important services were -rendered by the Guerrillas, and still more by the regular troops of -Portugal. And, in addition to the Guerrilla chiefs, of whom I have -already noticed the principal, the regular troops of Spain achieved -some successes under the command of Castaños, Palafox, Reding, -Blake, O’Donnel, Sarsfield, Downie (these four Generals were Irish -or of Irish extraction), Albuquerque, Freyre, Ballasteros, Longa, -Giron, Mendizabal, Romana and Morillo. - -Amongst the Portuguese officers, who distinguished themselves in -these campaigns, must be noticed with praise, besides Saldanha and -Terceira, the Condes of Amarante, Villareal, Das Antas and Bomfim, -the Freires, Lecor, Leite, Vallongo, and Talaia. - - - II. “And Young love sits upon a flowery knoll.” - -Vide Claudian. _Nupt. Honor. et Mariæ._ Claudian makes one of the -fountains of honey. - - “And nerves that with the keenest rapture tingle - Shall haply curse the hour when ceased they to be single!” - - Molestæ hæ sunt nuptiæ! - Terent. _Andr._ act ii. sc. 2. - - - VI. “Not fairer opened in Alcina’s isle.” - - Vide Ariosto, _Orlando Furioso_, canto vi. - - “Where side by side the fruit and blossoms grow.” - - Vide Tasso, _Gerusalemme_, canto xvi. - - - XX. “But brighter flashed, that thus they came to save - In peril’s hour, the eyes of Isabel.” - - Wer rettete vom tode mich, - Von sklaverey? - Hast du nicht alles selbst vollendet, - Heilig glühend herz? - Goethe (Prometheus). - -“Who rescued me from death, from slavery? Hast thou not all -achieved, holily glowing heart?” - - - XXII. “In memory of their Armadilla’s pride.” - -_Armada_ “a fleet,” _Armadilla_ “a little fleet.” - - - XXIV. “Hast seen her? Hast thou seen my daughter? Say, - Know’st thou aught of my girl?” - - Er rief in das geheul des windes, - Lenorens namen hundertmal; - Doch statt des heissgeliebten kindes, - Antwortet ihm der wiederhall. - Langbein. - -“He cried out, ’mid the howling of the winds, Leonora’s name a -hundred times; but echo answered him instead of his best-beloved -child.” - - - XXX. “_Parad!_ a voice exclaimed like music dropt.” - -_Parad_, “stop!” - - - XXXII. “Oh, rapturous embrace, oh tenfold joy, - All sweeter for the racking grief sustained!” - -“Idem est beate vivere, et secundum naturam,” says Seneca. This -was the great rule of the Stoic philosophy, and may likewise be -applied to Christian lovers. Tranquil wedded bliss appears to be -its consummation. This living according to Nature will, of course, -be varied in its interpretation, according to each man’s individual -temperament. “Tot sensus, quot capita,” says Tertullian. And the -decision of Protagoras will find too many adherents, who conceived -himself to be the only standard of what was right and proper, and -believed all things good which seemed so to him. Christianity -happily gets rid of the evanescent and impalpable vagueness of -the ancient philosophy, which slipt through the fingers like the -statues of Dædalus, and comes to our aid with positive precept. -In illustration of this vagueness the advocates of the atomic -theory as an adjunct of their system made the chief part of man’s -happiness consist in pleasure, which an Epicurean would interpret -literally to signify the enjoyments of sense, and a Platonist would -expound, properly understood, to mean the exercise of virtue. -Yet both in their philosophizing would be probably theoretical, -and their practice, as in most instances, would be the result -of temperament and impulse; for “every man calleth that which -pleaseth, and is delightful to himself, _good_; and _evil_ that -which displeaseth him.” (Hobbes, _Treatise on Human Nature_, c. -vii.) - - - XXXIV. “With old Hidalgo lavishment.” - - Que un hidalgo no debe á otro que a Dios y al Rei nada. - (Mendoza, _Lazarillo de Tormes_.) - -“An Hidalgo owes nothing, except to God and the King.” Such were -the ideas of justice, which prevailed amongst the noble class in -Old Spain. The funds which were denied to creditors were squandered -in largesses. - - “To aid his daughter when the sky was dark.” - - Die hand die uns durch dieses dunkel führt.--Wieland. - -“The hand that leads us through this darkness.” - - - XL. “Earth’s hidden fires the globe cannot confine.” - - Nè sì scossa giammai trema la terra, - Quando i vapori in sen gravida serra. - Tasso, _Ger. Lib._ iv. 3. - -Those who may think the beauty of Salustian’s garden, as described -in this Canto, exaggerated, I would invite to visit the country -between San Sebastian and Ernani, as I did last year, and revel in -its groves and orchards. - - - - -IBERIA WON. - -Canto XII. - - -I. - - Bright be thy fame, illustrious Wellington! - Whose arm Britannia’s glory raised so far - That all the matchless victories she had won - Before thee pale beside thy Victory’s star! - For when the Conqueror whirled o’er earth his car, - More strong than Philip’s son to Indus rolled,-- - Invoking Freedom’s power his path to mar, - Thou gav’st him battle with thy Britons bold, - And vanquished him who Earth had cast in tyrant-mould. - - -II. - - Bright be thy fame, illustrious Wellington! - Whose ordinance pure, proscribing Rapine’s lust, - Outshone in peace and war Napoléon;-- - Like Aristides fitly called “The Just;” - Or liker his associate in the trust - Of Athens, great Themistocles, excelling - In martial prowess all that turns to dust, - Nor less in Wisdom. Gaul is grateful telling - Thy glories, Scipio-pure, amidst her Lares dwelling. - - -III. - - Shall I not sing thy triumph? I was born - Amid the thunder of thy victories! - The cannon fired for joy upon the morn - That told the nation Salamanca’s skies - Saw thy most skilful battle’s trophy rise-- - Reached me still wombed. The fame of Waterloo, - That made each cheek to glow and lit all eyes, - Even to my infant ear half-conscious flew. - All Hail!--for to this Earth I soon must bid adieu. - - -IV. - - My cup of life is broken at the full, - My lamp doth fade ere half its light is shed, - And whispereth angel sternly beautiful, - Whose shadowy wings have touched my aching head: - Before the greybeard shall the youth be dead! - Yet still, though perisheth my mortal part, - With thine and England’s glory shall be fed - The echoes roused by my enduring art, - And patriot strains of pride shall free my bursting heart! - - -V. - - Soldier of Liberty! Be this thy praise; - Thy sword was drawn to shield the rights of Man - Against his mightiest Tyrant. Length of days, - And honours of a Demigod, the plan - Of Heaven assigned thy front revered to fan: - Sublime reward! Yet conquests greater thine:-- - The path of Cæsar blood and tears o’erran; - Thou mad’st War human--and in Peace canst shine; - Thy hand struck off the chain that galled Milesius’ line! - - -VI. - - And well were seconded thy glorious views - By noblest Captains. Many a gallant name - Amongst thy host, if destined thee to lose, - Would surely have achieved eternal Fame! - ’Twas patriot zeal of Valour fanned the flame, - That glowed within their breasts like purest gem, - And nought but godlike deeds could quench or tame. - Of hero-pith thy legions, root and stem; - Thy host was worthy thee--and thou wert worthy them! - - -VII. - - I late have stood upon thy battle-fields; - On rugged-browed Roriça, where ’gainst France - Was earliest proved the strength that Britain wields, - And up the dread ravines thou didst advance - ’Mongst olive-groves and ilex, where enhance - The perils of the way such crags as none - Save mountain-goats may leap--yet drove thy lance - The foeman thence. Arbutus smiled upon, - And myrtles kist thy brow, revived by Victory’s sun! - - -VIII. - - And on Vimieiro, where the deep defile - With rocks and torrent-beds and hardy pines - The foe entangles, while they climb with toil - The crescent-ridge that sweeps to the Atlantic. Shines - Thy bristling bayonet-row, and fall their lines, - Like corn the yeoman reaps. Thy triumph graced - Their cannon captured ’mid the purpling vines; - And backward fell their force to Torres chased, - Where I have marked the skill thy glorious Lines that traced. - - -IX. - - And upon Talavera’s glorious hill, - Scorched by the glare of Leo’s burning sun, - Where drank the rival warriors from the rill, - And fired Belluno many a thunderous gun, - Which Britain’s warriors fiercely shouting won; - And plunged our horsemen down the fearful chasm, - Though smote, victorious; and terrific run - The flames through shrubs all parched by heat’s miasm, - Burning the wounded men who lay in mortal spasm! - - -X. - - And on Busaco’s horrid mountain-crest, - Where topples o’er the crags the convent-tower, - And bayonets bristled o’er the eagle’s nest. - The foeman climbs the steep with wondrous power, - But swift our charging files their host devour, - And down the mountain-side they slaughtered roll. - Massena rash, of valour Ney the flower, - Vainly up wooded dell and pine-clad knoll - Urged their fierce veterans. Our’s that day was Glory’s goal! - - -XI. - - And at Fuéntes d’Onor, whose chapelled steep - ’Gainst multiplied assaults thy forces shield; - Too late arriving, save the dead to weep, - At Albuera’s dire, tremendous field, - Where great the cost--yet Victory’s clarion pealed; - And with terrific march the fusiliers, - When shook the balance scorning proud to yield, - Mounted the fatal hill which cannon clears, - And hurled the foeman down with deafening British cheers! - - -XII. - - And at Rodrigo, where the counterscarp - Inviolate standing cost thy Crawfurd’s life, - And ’gainst stern wall and cannon rattling sharp - Man’s naked breast maintained unequal strife; - And Badajoz, where on the stormers, rife - With daring, rushed by deadly breach and scale, - Like lava poured ’gainst bayonet, pike, and knife, - Fronting a hurricane of iron hail, - And mowed by shot and shell--yet made the foeman quail! - - -XIII. - - For nought could baffle England’s trusted Chief, - Who Marmont’s lines on Salamanca’s plain - Smote like a thunderbolt, keen--rapid--brief, - And rent his legions like a shattered chain! - And at Vitoria wrenched the crown of Spain - From the poor tremulous Usurper’s hand, - The spoils of Empire seized, a countless train - Of cannon, standards, eagles--trophies grand-- - Nor, fiery Jourdan, least, thy bâton of command! - - -XIV. - - And now upon Navarre’s Typhæan crest - He stands triumphant, threatening haughty France, - While bounds once more Iberia’s lovely breast, - And close the wounds that held in death-like trance. - Proud beams her eye--she bids the Chief advance, - And points to Roncesvalles where of old - She crushed the invading Gaul with mighty lance. - See, see a Briton as Bernardo bold - His conquering chariot-wheel o’er Gallia’s host hath rolled! - - -XV. - - Sublime Pyrene feels his vigorous tread, - And trembles Gaul with all her martial sons, - For sure as Fate his legions shall be led - To where Garumna’s stream to Ocean runs. - Even now his mighty stride the nations stuns! - Soult, on thine arm an Empire’s fate depends. - From San Sebastian’s fortress to Bayonne’s, - By Sarre and Ustaritz great Arthur bends. - Soult spreads incessant toils which England’s lion rends. - - -XVI. - - Through many a craggy pass and dread defile, - From Oyarzún and Bidasóa’s stream, - By rugged steeps that Ossa’s crest outpile, - And cataract beds that Earth to sunder seem-- - Pyrene’s fearful wilderness where teem - All forms of savage beauty--olive, larch, - Pine, myrtle mixed,--and forests hair-like gleam - Upon that couchant monster’s spinal arch,-- - Still slow the leaguered French recede before our march. - - -XVII. - - What cavalcade through San Sebastian rides? - A Chieftain mighty and a senior grave; - A blooming warrior next his steed bestrides, - Like young Achilles to whom Chiron gave - The Centaur’s mastery. With bounding wave - His light plume dances o’er a maiden fair, - Who reins her genet too with spirit brave; - Worthy, me seems, her grace and beauty rare - With that young hero proud companionship to bear. - - -XVIII. - - ’Tis Nial--Isabel; great Arthur’s form - With grave Salustian’s stately fills the van. - They reach the central square where late the storm - Of War with surges wild hath rolled o’er San - Sebastian dire calamity to Man. - Great Arthur sad surveyed the ruin round, - And at the sight a tear his eye o’erran, - For every house was now a blackened mound, - And Solitude more grim where Life so late was found. - - -XIX. - - Round Santa Clara’s isle that instant came - The Basque barqueras in their shallops slight; - Their graceful oaring still was plied the same, - But one fair pinnace less careered in sight. - Ah, where is she--their glory and delight? - Rose softly sad and low from distance borne - A plaintive strain that in its dying flight - Fell on the town where other breasts are torn. - ’Tis thus in chorus sweet they raise their plaint forlorn:-- - - -The Dirge. - - Weep, Biscaya, weep! - ’Mongst dead and dying, - On the bloody heap - Is Blanca lying. - William’s sword hath smote - Her bosom heaving, - Her on whom we doat - Of life bereaving. - Weep, Biscaya, weep! - - Pierced though William’s sword - That bounding billow, - Yet his corse adored - She makes her pillow. - Red is William’s vest, - With glory wreathéd. - Redder is the breast - Transfixed beneath it. - Weep, Biscaya, weep! - - Ne’er could William stain - That bosom tender. - How the deed would pain - Her brave defender! - Who in all the land - So crime-convicted? - Ah, ’twas Blanca’s hand - The wound inflicted. - Weep, Biscaya, weep! - - Heaven for deeds of note - So daring made her. - Her’s the arm that smote - The French invader. - Flashed her carbine true, - The Norman felling. - Pierced that spirit, too, - Its own pure dwelling. - Weep, Biscaya, weep! - - Ne’er was true-love seen - Like her’s undying. - Few like her, I ween, - The grave defying. - Broken heart the sod - Can fittest cover. - _She_ could not, oh God! - Survive her lover. - San Sebastian, weep! - - -XX. - - “Now, Don Salustian”--thus great Arthur said-- - “This piteous scene doth touch my heart full sore, - And if War brought not Peace, the Invader fled, - My sword were haply sheathed for ever more; - For none can deeplier Battle’s wreck deplore. - But e’en these ills can Spaniards bear for Spain, - As England bears her warriors’ streaming gore; - And from this hour the villain wears a chain, - Who dares by deeds like these our triumphs to profane.” - - -XXI. - - Salustian bowed with grave Hidalgo pride:-- - “Your words, great Chief, console the Spanish heart.” - Then Nial bounded to great Arthur’s side; - His hat is doffed, his plume doth bird-like start, - His curls rich wave, his eyes new lightnings dart: - “Give, give the right this maiden fair to shield; - Still suffering she from San Sebastian’s smart, - Saved from the wreck of worse than battle-field: - Give, give at altar-foot a husband’s right to wield.” - - -XXII. - - A word Salustian with the Chief exchanged, - And smiles on both their faces cordial beam. - Sweet Isabel her timid glances ranged - From side to side--a momentary gleam - O’ercast with blushes that like roses seem. - Her fluttering breast now pants like prisoned bird, - Her downcast eyes reluctant ye might deem; - But oh, what joy doth light them at a word: - Young Nial says, “Thou’rt mine!” and every heart is stirred. - - -XXIII. - - Great Arthur blest the union, promising - That Nial’s fortunes should be England’s care, - For of her eaglets none with stronger wing - To soar in Victory’s blazing sunlight dare. - Salustian called on both a blessing rare! - And Nial caught her beauteous hand, while fast - She melts in tears which joy and sorrow share; - In kisses o’er her hand his soul was cast, - The hastening cavalcade to Fuéntarabia past. - - -XXIV. - - Now War his direful tasks again pursues - O’er rugged steep and castled crag sublime; - And, Gaul, thy fields no longer sacred lose - The conquering fame that propt Invasion’s crime. - The mountain-barriers of thy Southern clime - No more shall serve as bulwarks for thy soil, - For Britain’s sons advance as sure as Time, - Soult’s bristling huge entrenchments instant spoil, - And onward march with ease where mocked was human toil. - - -XXV. - - See on Pyrene’s loftiest summit stand - Majestic Freedom, o’er the despot’s frown - Gigantic towering till her forehead grand - The Sun encircles for a fitting crown, - And stream rays brighter from her eyelids down! - The rainbow clothes her Heaven-ascending form. - Her mighty arm great Arthur beckons on, - Against Soult’s host to urge the fiery storm, - And thus with voice sublime she speaks in accents warm:-- - - -XXVI. - - “Oh Arthur! thou my soldier and my shield, - In whom revived to-day is e’en surpassed - Another Arthur’s fame who first revealed - The heroic glow of Chivalry, and cast - A blaze o’er England which for aye will last. - Greater thy glory than Pendragon’s son - With all his knights achieved--to strike aghast - My fiercest foe in many a battle won, - And still with Victory’s march his countless legions stun. - - -XXVII. - - “List to thy Destiny, and nerve thy arm - To accomplish Heaven’s designs. By fair Nivelle - Thy next great battle shall with dire alarm - Man’s bitter foes affright in Earth and Hell. - For fortress-crags and precipices fell, - Cyclopian castles hewn from solid rock, - Redoubt and natural tower where eagles dwell, - Thou’lt instant carry with resistless shock, - The arméd river ford, the plains of France bemock! - - -XXVIII. - - “Next o’er the Nive thou’lt pass by quick surprise - At Ustaritz ’neath Cambo’s beacon light - The stream thy dashing cavalry defies, - Scorns the pontoon and dares the unequal fight - And some shall perish torrent-swept from sight! - Next by Barouilhet’s ridge with thickets spread - Thou’lt stand resistless, battling thrice till night - The combat palls, and still to Victory led-- - Triumphant at Saint Pierre, ’mid thousand warriors dead. - - -XXIX. - - “Then o’er the Adour a monster-bridge thou’lt cast, - Lashing the Ocean-tide with chain of power, - Through no vain boast like Xerxes when he past - The stormy Hellespont to mine my tower - In godlike Greece--but fell before her flower! - Hope’s chained chasse-marées and gigantic boom - Shall ope a pathway to extend my dower - To Nations suffering ’neath despotic doom, - And o’er the dashing surge shall roll the cannon’s womb. - - -XXX. - - “And next at Orthez from its Roman camp - Thou’lt baffle Soult upon his convex hill, - His ardour ev’n ’mid seeming victory damp, - And pour thy Picton’s veterans, matchless still, - Through the dread marsh with new dismay to fill - The French battalions, Cotton’s bold hussars - Their rout completing. There thy dauntless will - Thou’lt prove ’neath wound which nought thy progress bars, - And France thy onward tread shall feel, despite of scars! - - -XXXI. - - “Then on the steep and wooded height of Aire, - Where Lusitain’s brigade shall bleeding fly, - And lose the battle but that Hill is there, - Resolved with British steel to do or die! - While ’neath the Frenchman’s charge your galled ally - Outnumbered falls, the might of England’s sons - Will turn the stream of battle, raising high - The fearful war-shout which the foeman stuns, - Who flies to where the Adour with branching channel runs. - - -XXXII. - - “At Tarbes, Bigorre, and Gaudens thou shalt next - Still conquering pass to fair Tolosa’s wall, - Where Soult will desperate stand, and Spain perplext - Behold her warriors snared in thousands fall. - But Clinton, Beresford his breast-works all - Will dauntless carry amid carnage dire; - Mont Rave thou’lt win ere Night shall spread her pall, - And bristling still shall warlike Soult retire, - While o’er Garonne thou’lt pass and Victory’s salvo fire. - - -XXXIII. - - “And in that hour thou’lt learn not e’en the great - Usurper’s genius can avert his doom. - His crown an instant he resigns to Fate, - But with more fierce rebound new sway to assume. - War-fires shall then the Belgian fields illume. - ’Tis thine Napoléon’s self at Waterloo - To crush for aye. Despite his cannon’s boom, - Terrific rout and bondage he will rue. - Soldier of Liberty, this task remains to do!” - - -XXXIV. - - She said, and pointing to the fields of France, - And beckoning Arthur on with Godlike smile, - That bids the Hero fearlessly advance, - Her giant form dissolves in air, the while - Pyrene shakes with earthquake many a mile, - From peak to peak the volleying thunders roll. - Great Arthur marched, and heaped the trophied pile, - His Destiny fulfilling to its goal, - And Heaven for long renown hath spared his hero-soul. - - -XXXV. - - Aggressive Conquest! tempt not Freedom’s shields, - For Britons still your fiercest ire can quell. - Ambition, Treachery seized Iberia’s fields, - And mark how freemen tyrant-bands expel! - If Victory cheered us, ’twas that Spain might dwell - Beneath her vine secure from despot’s frown. - And if thy dauntless children battled well, - No need thy Edwards, Henries left thy crown, - No need, Britannia, left thy Marlborough of renown! - - -XXXVI. - - Grand though thy trophies, ne’er by land or main - Shall War’s barbarian triumphs wake thy pride; - No blood-stained laurels shall thy forehead stain, - But Peace with olive branch o’ershadowing bide, - And mark the Godhead in thy empire wide. - Not human anguish but new joy to Man - Thy limbs shall shed in their colossal stride; - Foredoomed despotic wrath and wrong to ban, - And make creation square with the Eternal plan! - - -XXXVII. - - As thine the curb, so thine be too the scourge, - Not lightly used, but terrible in need. - Earth, like Alcides, of its monsters purge, - Both hydra-tyrants and the single breed! - Untusk the boar, and shatter like a reed - The swords resisting Justice; yet be thine - With mercy to attemper strength of deed; - Nor let thy Fecial seers too nice refine, - But loveliest rays of Truth through all thy orbit shine. - - -XXXVIII. - - Strong be thy armament as fits thy strength - Of mandate powerful thy Lernæan clave; - Nor pinch nor waste distort from its due length - The sword of Justice which the Godhead gave. - And, firstly, still, Britannia, rule the wave! - With floating battlements to plough the main, - Make peaceful every shore! Bid every slave, - While freemen prouder swell, dash off his chain, - When thy artillery’s roar is heard o’er Ocean’s plain! - - -XXXIX. - - And lording o’er thy empire of the Deep, - Whose noblest uses are thy virtue’s dower, - Diffusing knowledge where thy navies sweep, - And linking distant lands, where rolls each hour - That mightiest image of surpassing power, - Reign on beneficent--the Nations tell - Thy commerce, like thy shore, is Freedom’s tower. - Scatter with Godlike hand wide blessings--quell - The factious voice abroad, the subjects who rebel. - - -XL. - - Shall boys the emerald from thy circlet rend, - Queen of the Nations, Mistress of the Seas? - Must all thy glories thus obscurely end-- - A rag of Empire fluttering to the breeze! - And shall Britannia vail to such as these, - Barbarian traffickers in base turmoil, - The sceptre at whose wave Oppression flees? - No, no; while springs a leaf o’er all her soil, - Shall men too spring up there to mock Sedition’s toil! - - -XLI. - - And generous hearts are Erin’s. Think not they - Who storm the loudest are the deepest felt. - Fair shines the Moon, though dogs unquiet bay, - And rusts the sword that rattled in the belt; - Ere crost, how would the clamorous phalanx melt? - In scurril threats, that wound not, most they shine. - Too base the altars where they’ve groveling knelt, - To feel--true Celts--the valourous glow divine - That led thy “hope forlorn” in many a battle line. - - -XLII. - - Let selfish virulence its coffers fill, - Let half-formed striplings dream that they have minds; - But vaunts mistake not for a nation’s will, - Nor lucre’s lust for what the true heart binds. - Some fervent spirits still the mockery blinds - Of patriot zeal, but fades the dream amain, - And scatters the weak bubble to the winds. - Not Erin’s heart partakes the traitor-stain; - Sound to the core the breast that bled for thee in Spain! - - -XLIII. - - Yet gently deal with that distracted land; - With generous flood of bounty soothe her woes. - Mete Justice with no nice or niggard hand, - But heap like coals of fire upon thy foes - Magnanimous replies to dastard blows! - Not false the people--every boon be theirs, - Each healing measure quivering wounds to close. - Forget not that thy fame Ierne shares; - Forget not that she gave great Arthur to thy wars! - - -XLIV. - - Fulfil thy destiny! Resistless spread - Through boundless Asia, forced to bear thy arms. - O’er Scindian waters be thy spirit shed, - Divulging ev’n in Conquest Freedom’s charms! - Earth shaketh still with Battle’s late alarms, - Yet peace and joy pervade the fields thou’st won; - VICTORIA blesses with her hand--not harms. - Beneath Britannia’s sway shall millions run; - Earth’s labouring head art thou, her Cyclop eye and sun! - - -XLV. - - Yet robed in power and grandeur, bate thy pride, - And ’mid thy glory shudder at thy shame, - For starves the vagrant by the palace side, - And misery’s blight is tarnishing thy fame. - Your bosoms, boundless wealth and luxury, tame; - Nor rags nor squalor all your laws can ban. - Deal, deal more kindly with the poor, nor frame - A felon statute each offence to scan; - And let not Ignorance mar the Eternal’s image, Man! - - -XLVI. - - Oh England! to thyself be true, nor fear - But every hostile voice will soon be dumb. - Smile on majestic ev’n while thou dost hear - O’er subject Ocean roll the doubling drum. - There sleep their wrath, or let the Invader come! - To thee indifferent--thou wilt strike no blow, - Save for such cause as Heaven descendeth from. - Live, Arbitress of Peace and War, that so - All Earth may court thy smile, and dread thee as a foe! - - - - -HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES TO CANTO XII. - - -The allusion at the commencement of this Canto is more especially -to the admirable regulations established and enforced while our -troops were upon the French territory. Never, since the days of -the great Gustavus, was such discipline preserved in an enemy’s -country. Captain Batty attests the excellent feeling produced -amongst the inhabitants of St. Jean de Luz and its neighbourhood -by the wonderful restraint observed by our army while stationed -there in cantonments. (_Campaign of the Western Pyrenees._) The -well-known General Order of Wellington enforcing this discipline -can never be forgotten, as the brightest monument of civilized -war--perhaps in certain circumstances an inevitable calamity, but -by him softened to the smallest infliction of injury. An official -letter written from Bayonne, and quoted by Napier, book xxiv. -chap. 1, contains this splendid testimony;--“The English general’s -policy, and the good discipline he maintains, do us more harm than -ten battles. Every peasant wishes to be under his protection.” - -The principal battles are described in the order of their -occurrence, and my impressions from recent visits are here recorded. - -The ravines which intersect the heights of Roriça are overgrown -with the beautiful shrubs, which make the wild districts of -Portugal so delightful. The arbutus and myrtle I noted especially. -Near the top of the middle pass is a small opening in the form -of a wedge, nearly covered with these shrubs, where the severest -fighting took place. The principal column in the main attack -advanced under cover of some olive and cork trees, the _ilex_ -of the text. The name of this battle-ground (as remarked in my -Introduction) has been frequently disfigured in English accounts. -“Rolissa” is a common form of error; and the usual, but absurdly -erroneous, form was for many years, “Roleia.” The true reading is -that in the text. This battle was fought on the 17th August, 1808. - -The difficulty of the ground, both at Vimieiro and at Roriça, -struck me as only inferior to that of the terrible Serra of -Busaco, and the still more gigantic inequalities of the Pyrenees. -In front of the little village of Vimieiro, sweetly situated in -a valley watered by the silver stream of Maceira, rises a rugged -and detached flat-topped hill, commanding the passes which stretch -to the south and east. A fearful ravine, the scene of great -carnage, separates a mountain, that sweeps in a crescent from -the coast, from another range of heights over which passes the -road from Vimieiro to Lourinham, and which returns to the coast -with a sudden bend backwards, terminating there in a tall and -precipitous cliff. The ground between the points where the two -armies were posted is wooded and broken in an extraordinary degree, -especially by the deep ravine above referred to, where Brennier -was for a considerable time entangled. Kellerman’s reserves were -posted in a pine wood. Our 43rd regiment, stationed amongst some -vineyards, covered with ripening grapes, to which allusion is made -in the text, for the battle was fought on the 21st August, 1808, -maintained a fierce contest against the French grenadiers, whom -they eventually scattered with a furious onset of the bayonet, the -regiment suffering severely. On the crest of the ridge Solignac was -equally defeated; the French artillery, taken and rescued for a -time, were finally retaken, and their discomfited troops compelled -to retreat. - -The glorious battle of Talavera was fought on the 28th July, -1809, when the “burning sun” described in the text was so fierce -and scathing as to tempt the soldiers of both armies, before the -commencement of the fight, down to the little brook which separated -their positions, not far from the memorable hill which was the -vital point of the action, where they quenched their thirst -together, mingling without any attempt at mutual molestation, with -a degree of reciprocal confidence which was not without something -chivalrous in its character. I slaked my thirst at the same stream -on my visit, and could not help smiling at the remark of a Spanish -peasant, that that water to this hour is “_ensangrentada!_” I -pointed to its limpid purity, which assuredly had nothing of the -crimson hue. The mingling of the French and English troops at this -stream for such a purpose reminded me of a passage in my life which -occurred in 1836 at Compiègne in France, where the late lamented -Duke of Orléans had formed a camp for military exercises, which I -attended as a spectator. The heat was likewise then intolerable, -and I slaked my thirst at a streamlet on the ground in the midst of -scores of French soldiers, similarly employed, who assisted me with -great politeness. At Talavera the French, posted near the Tagus, -amongst some olive groves which were in full bloom at the period of -my visit, commenced the battle with a tempest of bullets from no -fewer than 80 pieces of artillery. The “Belluno” alluded to in the -text was Marshal Victor, Duke of that name. “The English regiments -met the advancing columns.” “Their loud and confident shouts--sure -augury of success--were heard along the whole line.” (Napier, -_Hist. War in the Penins._ book viii. chap. 2.) A terrible charge -of cavalry was executed by the 23rd, down a nearly precipitous -cleft, in which half the regiment was sacrificed. The charge of the -48th decided the day, which says Napier “was one of hard, honest -fighting,” and for which Sir Arthur Wellesley first was made a -Peer. “The battle was scarcely over when the dry grass and shrubs -taking fire, a volume of flames passed with inconceivable rapidity -across a part of the field, scorching in its course both the dead -and the wounded.” (Napier, _Hist. War in the Penins._ book viii. -chap. 2.) - -My first reflection, on ascending the Serra of Busaco, was one of -astonishment how any troops could act in such terrifically broken -ground. It seemed almost impracticable to my mule. Yet up these -tremendous steeps the French scaled rather than charged with a -degree of active energy and hardihood, which well deserves the -compliment paid to them by Napier: “In this battle of Busaco, the -French, after astonishing efforts of valour, were repulsed, in -the manner to be expected from the strength of the ground, and -the goodness of the soldiers opposed to them.” (_Hist. War in -the Penins._ book xi. chap. 7.) It was not easy in imagination -to conjure up the spectacle of these elevated crags fronting the -peaceful convent, and these crests of rugged mountains scattered -in tumbling confusion around, bristling all over with bayonets as -they did before sunrise on that eventful morning, thirty-six years -since, and the French emerging from those wooded ravines, and -rushing up the face of these fearful heights, down which they were -hurled again, their bodies strewing the way to the very depths of -the valley. A mist capped the mountain on my visit, and it was so -on the day of the battle--the 27th September, 1810. “In less than -half an hour the French were close upon the summit; so swiftly -and with such astonishing power and resolution did they scale -the mountain.” (Napier, _Hist. War in the Penins. ibid._) “The -Duke”’s despatch is, as usual, succinct and forcible. Massena’s -character, as drawn by Napoléon, was as follows:--“Brave, decided, -and intrepid * * his dispositions for battle bad, but his temper -pertinacious to the last degree.” His rashness was here apparent. -His ruthless cruelty and infamous burnings and destruction, in -retreating from the Lines of Torres Vedras six months later, -including his firing of the Convent of Alcobaça, make the name -which Napoléon gave him, “the child of victory,” unworthy by the -side of Ney, “the bravest of the brave.” - -The battle of Fuentes de Onoro, fought on the 5th May, 1811, was -no very decided triumph, although most undoubtedly a victory, -since the principal object of the allies, the covering of the -blockade of Almeida, was successfully accomplished. The village of -Fuentes, so often attacked throughout the day, was unflinchingly -and gallantly defended; and on the chapel and crags which surmount -the town we maintained our ground to the last, while the French -retired a cannon-shot from the stream. My attention was invited -in a more lively degree by the neighbouring fortress of Almeida, -which was the scene of such repeated actions during the Peninsular -War, and where occurred the curious siege in 1844 by the forces of -the Portuguese government, when it was occupied by a revolutionary -party under the Conde do Bomfim, aiming at the subversion of Dona -Maria’s prerogative. - -The battle of Albuera was fought on the 16th May, 1811, eleven -days after the battle of Fuentes de Onoro. At Albuera the personal -gallantry of Marshal Beresford was more conspicuous than the -generalship. Our loss in killed and wounded here was greater than -in any other action during the Peninsular War. Wellington arrived -on the field the third day after the battle. For several days -before it the Spaniards had been reduced to horse-flesh for a -subsistence! Yet on the whole they fought well. It was the terrific -charge and indomitable valour of the Fusiliers that gained the -day. Never was British infantry seen to greater advantage. “The -terrible balance hung for two hours, and twice trembling to the -sinister side, only yielded at last to the superlative vigour of -the fusiliers.” (Napier, _Hist. War in the Penins._ book xii. chap. -7.) - -The assault of Ciudad Rodrigo took place on the 19th January, 1812. -The success was the result of desperate valour, time not permitting -the regular approaches of scientific skill, as it was hourly -expected that Marmont would arrive to succour the town. “Wellington -resolved to storm the place without blowing in the counterscarp; in -other words, to overstep the rules of science, and sacrifice life -rather than time, for such was the capricious nature of the Agueda -that in one night a flood might enable a small French force to -relieve the place.” (Napier, _Hist. War in the Penins._ book xvi. -chap. 3.) “The storming party went straight to the breach, which -was so contracted that a gun placed lengthwise across the top -nearly blocked up the opening. * * The audacious manner in which -Wellington stormed the redoubt of Francisco, and broke ground on -the first night of the investment; the more audacious manner in -which he assaulted the place before the fire of the defence had -been in any manner lessened, * * were the true causes of the sudden -fall of the place. * * When the general terminated his order for -the assault with this sentence, ‘Ciudad Rodrigo must be stormed -this evening,’ he knew well that it would be nobly understood.” -(_Ibid._) The vital contest lasted only a few minutes, but cost -the gallant Crawfurd’s life. “Throwing off the restraints of -discipline, the troops committed frightful excesses. The town was -fired in three or four places, the soldiers menaced their officers, -and shot each other; many were killed in the market-place, -intoxication soon increased the tumult, disorder everywhere -prevailed, and at last, the fury rising to an absolute madness, -a fire was wilfully lighted in the middle of the great magazine, -when the town and all in it would have been blown to atoms, but -for the energetic courage of some officers and a few soldiers who -still preserved their senses.” (_Ibid._) It is fit that the glories -of War should have hung up by their side this pendent picture of -its Hellish atrocities and horrors. The “frightful excesses” are -here but imperfectly detailed. Neither age nor sex was spared from -any description of outrage; and it was against the Spanish people -unarmed, helpless, and allies, that these villanies of unbridled -passion were committed. Warlike ambition contains within it the -germs of every crime; and War itself, unless purely defensive and -inevitable, is the concentration of all malignity. - -The approach to Badajoz from the side of Elvas is exceedingly -interesting. The Portuguese fortress of Elvas is perched on a -lofty hill, with the valley at its foot which separates it at -the distance of three leagues from Badajoz and the mountains of -the Spanish frontier. I was struck by the contrast between the -warm and cultivated quintas on the Elvas side, and the bleakness -on that of Badajoz. The sun had just risen over the hills of -Spanish Estremadura, which clad in the deepest purple were boldly -yet delicately limned along the sky. The road was covered with -numberless screeching _carros_, and the whistling contrabandists -and sturdy almocrebes conducting their mules in listless silence -formed a wonderful contrast with my thoughts, which were full of -the ‘pride, pomp, and circumstance’ of War. When I entered Badajoz, -which I did from the side of Madrid, I could not help shuddering -at the sight of those walls which, little more than thirty years -back, witnessed so terrible a conflict--“a combat,” says Napier -“so fiercely fought, so terribly won, so dreadful in all its -circumstances, that posterity can scarcely be expected to credit -the tale; but many are still alive who know that it is true.” -(_Hist. War in the Penins._ book xvi. chap. 5.) The courage of -Philippon and the garrison was of the highest order. The assault -combined escalade and storm, and took place in the night of the -6th April, 1812. For a detailed description of this wonderful and -terrific scene I must refer to Napier’s History, whose magnificent -narrative it is impossible to abridge. “The ramparts crowded with -dark figures and glittering arms were seen on the one side, and -on the other the red columns of the British, deep and broad, were -coming on like streams of burning lava; * * a crash of thunder -followed, and with incredible violence the storming parties were -dashed to pieces by the explosion of hundreds of shells and -powder-barrels.” (Napier, _ibid._) “Now a multitude bounded up -the great breach as if driven by a whirlwind, but across the top -glittered a range of sword-blades, sharp-pointed, keen-edged on -both sides, and firmly fixed in ponderous beams, which were chained -together and set deep in the ruins; and fourteen feet in front, -the ascent was covered with loose planks, studded with sharp iron -points, on which the feet of the foremost being set the planks -moved, and the unhappy soldiers, falling forward on the spikes, -rolled down upon the ranks behind.” (_Ibid._) “Two hours spent -in these vain efforts convinced the soldiers that the breach of -the Trinidad was impregnable. * * Gathering in dark groups, and -leaning on their muskets, they looked up with sullen desperation, -while the enemy stepping out on the ramparts, and aiming their -shot by the light of the fire-balls which they threw over, asked, -as their victims fell, _Why they did not come into Badajoz?_” -(_Ibid._) Five thousand men fell during the siege, of whom 3,500 -were struck during the assault. Five generals were wounded. More -than 2,000 men fell at the breaches! Philippon surrendered early -next morning. To the heroic Picton and his “fighting third” -division the success was chiefly attributable. “Now commenced that -wild and desperate wickedness, which tarnished the lustre of the -soldier’s heroism. All indeed were not alike, for hundreds risked -and many lost their lives in striving to stop the violence, but -the madness generally prevailed, and as the worst men were leaders -here, all the dreadful passions of human nature were displayed. -Shameless rapacity, brutal intemperance, savage lust, cruelty, -and murder, shrieks and piteous lamentations, groans, shouts, -imprecations, the hissing of fires bursting from the houses, the -crashing of doors and windows, and the reports of muskets used -in violence, resounded for two days and nights in the streets of -Badajoz! on the third, when the city was sacked, when the soldiers -were exhausted by their own excesses, the tumult rather subsided -than was quelled. The wounded men were then looked to, the dead -disposed of.” (_Ibid._) Let this scene be for ever engraven on our -minds--let its horrors be a response to the insane clamour for war. -And, notwithstanding the glories of our Peninsular campaigns, let -us resolve that a sword we will never draw but in defence of our -own soil! - -The ever memorable battle of Salamanca took place in the same -month of July in which three years before had been fought the -equally glorious battle of Talavera--and even in still more sultry -weather, so much so that before the engagement at Salamanca, on one -occasion when the French, pressing upon our rear, were scattered -by the bayonet, some of our men fainted with the heat. On the eve -of the battle, a terrific thunder-storm came on just as the enemy -were taking up their position. The sky was kindled with incessant -lightnings, and through the heavy rain which subsequently fell, -the French fires could be seen along their entire line. It is a -remarkable fact that nearly every one of our chief battles in the -Peninsula was heralded by a storm, as if Nature sympathized in the -contest. That of Salamanca was fought upon a plain surrounded by -ranges of hills--one of the few open and level tracts upon which -the rival armies met in the Peninsula, which seemed peculiarly -adapted for such a struggle, bearing at opposite and distant -points two striking rocky eminences, steep and rugged, called the -Arapiles (cut out, as it were, for rival generals) on which the -left of the French and the right of the Allies were posted. The -battle of Salamanca lasted only forty minutes. It originated in an -error of Marmont’s, which Wellington seized as thus described by -Napier: “Starting up, he repaired to the high ground, and observed -their movements for some time, with a stern contentment, for their -left wing was entirely separated from the centre. The fault was -flagrant, and he fixed it with the stroke of a thunder-bolt.” -(_Hist. War in the Penins._ book xviii. chap. 3.) - -The battle of Vitoria was fought on the 21st June, 1813. The -weather was rainy, and a thick curtain of vapour overspread both -armies till noon. The utter rout which the French sustained was -in great part the result of a complication of enormous faults and -errors on the part of King Joseph. The basin of Vitoria, into which -he poured not only his troops, but his parks, baggage, convoys, -stores and encumbrances of every description--is unequally divided -by the winding Zadora, and nearly ten miles long by an average -breadth of eight miles. The stream which intersects it is narrow, -and the banks very steep in parts and uniformly rugged. Here he -was utterly exposed, and to the last moment undecided even as to -a line of retreat. The line of the Ebro had been admirably turned -by Wellington, and of the strength of the country about that -river the French were by most judicious movements deprived. Their -position was liable to be taken in flank, and this advantage was -mercilessly seized. My emotion here was little short of that which -I experienced on the plain of Waterloo; for though the contest here -was immeasurably more brief, the blow was struck with matchless -vigour, and likewise on a noble battle ground. The stress of the -action lay about the heights of La Puebla. This important point by -which the river was passed and the village of Subijana de Alava -having been successively carried by the allies, as well as the -bridges of Tres Puentes, Mendoza, and Arriaga, the French hotly -pressed on all sides were forced to retire on Vitoria, when the -rout ensued which was one of the most complete in history. “It was -the wreck of a nation.” (Napier, _Hist. War in the Penins._ book -xx. chap. 8.) An officer who was present well expressed it thus: -“The French were beaten before the town, and in the town, and -through the town, and out of the town, and behind the town, and -all round about the town;” and Gazan, a French officer’s account -was that “they lost all their equipages, all their guns, all their -treasure, all their stores, and all their papers, so that no man -could prove how much pay was due to him.” From the total wreck even -king Joseph with difficulty escaped, a pistol-shot having been -fired into his carriage. “The trophies were innumerable,” (Napier, -_ibid._) The spoils resembled those of an Oriental rather than an -European army; for Joseph had all his luxuries and treasures with -him. Five millions and a half of dollars were stated by the French -accounts to have been in the money-chests. Our troops had abundant -spoil, for “not one dollar,” says Napier, “came to the public.” -A profusion was found of the choicest wines and delicacies, the -baggage was rifled, and our soldiers attired themselves in the gala -dresses of the enemy. Marshal Jourdan’s bâton was taken by the 87th -regiment. “The Duke”’s despatch is excellent. - -Minute details of the several battles of the Pyrenees, and of -those fought upon the soil of France up to the gates of Toulouse, -will be found in the last volume of Napier’s _History_. - -With regard to the Lines of Torres Vedras, the testimony of -Colonel (since General) Jones, an eminent engineer officer, whose -writings are of the plainest and most practical character, and who -evidently had little imagination to incite him to enthusiasm, is -as follows:--“The lines in front of Lisbon are a triumph to the -British nation. They are without doubt the finest specimen of a -fortified position ever effected. From their peninsular situation -there is no possibility of manœuvring on the flanks, cutting off -the supplies, or getting in the rear of them: in the details -of the work there is no pedantry of science; nor long lines of -fortification for show without strength; mountains themselves are -made the prominent points; the gorges alone derive their total -strength from retrenchments. The quantity of labour bestowed on -them is incredible, but in no part has the engineer done more than -his duty; assisted nature, assisted the general, and assisted -the troops, and for each arm has procured a favourable field -of action.” (_Journals of the Sieges undertaken by the Allies -in Spain_, note 1.) I have frequently witnessed at Lisbon the -excitement of French military travellers about these works. Their -first rush from Lisbon is to Torres Vedras and the neighbourhood -to see them; and their admiration, although a little bitterly, -is always freely expressed. The testimony of a distinguished -French general is equally explicit:--“Ce monument remarquable de -l’industrie de nos ennemis, les lignes construites en 1810 pour la -defence de Lisbonne.” (Foy, _Hist. Guerre. Pénins._ liv. ii.) - -The modes of warfare and the structure of society have undergone -such an utter change that it appears delusive to seek any -parallel for the achievements of Wellington in the records of -ancient history. The naked fact that he had to contend against -the incomparable military genius of Napoléon, and without any -exaggeration became “_le vainqueur du vainqueur du monde_” -attests in the severe sobriety of History more than the most -fulsome adulation. All the great conquerors of the ancient -world--Sesostris, Alexander, Hannibal, Cæsar--were invaders: -Wellington’s battles were nearly all defensive of human rights -and liberty. In Roman annals he may be most fittingly compared to -Scipio Africanus, the conqueror of Hannibal--the more especially -for the purity of both their characters. In Grecian history he -might be likened to Themistocles, who also maintained a glorious -defensive war, but that the English, unlike the Greek hero, was -incorruptible. His character is a compound of the two great joint -rulers of Athens--of the military conduct of Themistocles and the -inflexible justice of Aristides. The admirable strokes of policy -by which Themistocles circumvented Xerxes might be paralleled in -several parts of Wellington’s career, who like Themistocles could -lead his foes astray as well as rout them at Salamis. There is one -part of the Athenian’s character, his venality, over which the -Englishman towers with transcendent superiority. There is another, -and curious particular, in which the comparison is likewise to -his advantage. Themistocles was unskilled in music, and therefore -by his contemporaries (who prized that art so highly) twitted -with ignorance, as Cicero informs us. (_Tusc. Quest. lib._ i.) -Plutarch, (_lib._ i.) and Athenæus (_lib._ xiv.) mention that -those who were unskilled in the harp were forced jocosely to sing -to the accompaniment of a branch of laurel or myrtle held in a -cithara-like form, as we sometimes now-a-days see a wag perform a -tune with poker and bellows. The ancients in their banquets were -in the habit of sending round the lyre to each of the guests in -succession, an event of which kind caused Themistocles to be found -wanting, from whence Quintilian (_lib._ i. cap. 16) takes occasion -to inculcate on his pupils the necessity of learning music. The -same practice prevailed amongst our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, at whose -feasts the harp was sent round in a precisely similar manner. -(Bede, _Hist. Eccles. Anglor._ iv. 24.) The Duke of Wellington’s -love of music is inherited from his accomplished father, the Earl -of Mornington, and his Directorship of the Ancient Concerts proves -that he is not more devoted to Mars than to Apollo. - -The gallantry and intelligence with which the views of Wellington -were seconded throughout the Peninsular campaigns most amply -deserve the honourable record of the following names amongst the -leaders:--(Lord) Hill, Graham (Lord Lynedoch), Picton, Cole, Robert -Crawfurd, George Murray, Cotton (Lord Combermere), (Lord) Colborne, -Hope (Lord Hopetoun), Kempt, Pakenham, Pack, Clinton, Byng, (Lord) -Beresford, Stewart (Marquis of Londonderry), Paget (Marquis of -Anglesey), Lord Fitzroy Somerset, Lord Edward Somerset, Stopford, -Catlin Crawfurd, Colville, Leith, Barnes, Barnard, Vandeleur, -Borthwick, Bowes, Harvey, Skerrett, Myers, Spencer, Oswald, -Bradford, Hamilton, Houghton, Cadogan, Power, William Stewart, -Lumley, (Lord) Saltoun, Anson, Hulse, Erskine, Nightingale, -(Lord) Vivian, Dalhousie, Le Marchant, Walker, Fletcher, Howorth, -Mackenzie, Lightfoot, Payne, Campbell, Colin Campbell, Donkin, -Langworth, Ludlow, Guise, Dilkes, Ferguson, Ridge, Canch, D’Urban, -Anstruther, Mackinnon, Baird, Sherbrooke, Wilson, Hay, Sprye, -Robinson, Inglis, Aylmer, Howard, Talbot, Watson, Grant, Madden, -Bull, Gibbs, Gough, Hinuber, Bock, &c. And amongst the officers who -greatly distinguished themselves, to complete this Walhalla, (Lord) -Hardinge, the Napiers, Mackie, Gurwood, Smith, Grant, O’Toole, -Sturgeon, Manners, Ridge, Duncan, Campbell, Macleod, Hardyman, Shaw -(Kennedy), Lord March (Duke of Richmond), Nicholas, Lord William -Russell, Hare, Ferguson, Lake, Nugent, Hughes, Barnard, Seymour, -Ponsonby, Donnellan, Trant, Waters, Halket, Ellis, Blakeney, -Dickson, Otway, Collins, Burgoyne, Hartman, Way, Duckworth, -Inglis, Abercrombie, Hawkshawe, M’Intosh, Dyas, Forster, Putton, -M’Geechy, Hunt, M’Adam, Maguire, Gethin, Cooke, Robertson, Rose, -Patrick, Frier, Lloyd, Arentschild, M’Bean, Snodgrass, Moore, -Herries, Townsend, Maitland, Stuart, Woodford, Sullivan, Crofton, -Hervey, Wheatly, Brown, &c. Neither must I omit mention of Graham’s -glorious victory at Barosa, and Hill’s splendid achievement at -Almaraz, or of the crossing of the Douro and expulsion of Soult -from Oporto. - - - I. “Bright be thy fame, illustrious Wellington!” - - Πῶς ἄν σ’ ἐπαινέσαιμι μὴ λίαν λόγοις, - Μήτ’ ἐνδεῶς, * * - Αἰνούμενοι γὰρ οἱ ’γαθοὶ, τρόπον τινὰ - Μισοῦσι τοὺς αἰνοῦντας, ἐὰν αἰνῶσ’ ἄγαν. - Eurip. _Iph. in Aul._ 977. - -“How shall I praise thee in words neither too many nor too few? -For the good, when they are praised, in some manner hate those who -praise them, if they praise too much.” - - - II. ----“Great Themistocles, excelling - In martial prowess all that turns to dust.” - - Ἑλέομαι - πὰρ μὲν Σαλαμῖνος, Ἀθηναίων χάριν, - μισθόν. - Pind. _Pyth._ i. - -“I will embrace at Salamis the benefit conferred by Athens upon -Greece, and will magnify its great reward.” The allusion is to the -fulfilment of the ancient prophecy, that “the Attic city would -be saved by her wooden walls,” a phrase curiously reproduced in -the modern history of England. For the details of this victory -see Herodotus, _lib._ viii. Pindar, in the foregoing passage, -incidentally refers to the splendid reward which he received -from the Athenians, who gave him 2000 drachmas, being twice the -amount of the fine inflicted on him by his Theban countrymen for -celebrating the praises of the Athenians at Salamis. (Æschines, -_Epist._ iv.) - - - III. “The cannon fired for joy upon the morn, - That told the nation Salamanca’s skies,” &c. - -The battle of Salamanca was fought on the 22nd July, 1812. The -author was born on the 27th December in the same year. “Salamanca -will always be referred to as the most skilful of Wellington’s -battles.” (Napier, _Hist. War in the Peninsula_, book xix. chap. -7.) This splendid achievement was designated by a French officer at -the time as “the beating of forty thousand men in forty minutes.” - - - V. “Length of days, - And honours of a Demigod,” &c. - - ὁ νικῶν δὲ λοιπὸν ἀμφὶ βίοτον - ἔχει μελιτόεσσαν εὐδίαν, - ἀέθλων γ’ ἕνεκεν. - Pind. _Olymp._ i. - -“The Conqueror for the remainder of his days enjoyeth a honeyed -security, the reward of his victories.” - - - V. “The path of Cæsar blood and tears o’erran.” - -See Ferguson’s _Roman Republic_, book iv. chap. 1, 2, 3, 7. - - - VII. “I late have stood upon thy battle-fields.” - - Sint tibi Flaminius, Thrasymenaque litora, testes. - Ovid. _Fast._ vi. 765. - - - IX., XI. For poetical allusions to the battles of Talavera and - Albuera see Byron’s _Childe Harold_, Canto i., and Scott’s _Don - Roderick_. - - - XV. “To where Garumna’s stream to ocean runs.” - -“Pernicior unda Garumnæ,” the Garonne on which Toulouse is -situated, the ‘docta Tolosa’ of Ausonius. - - - XX. “‘Now, Don Salustian,’ thus great Arthur said-- - ‘This piteous scene doth touch my heart full sore.’” - - Ὑψηλόφρων μοι θυμὸς αἴρεται πρόσω· - Ἐπίσταται δὲ τοῖς κακοῖσί τ’ ἀσχαλᾷν, - Μετρίως τε χαίρειν τοῖσιν ἐξωγκωμένοις. - Eurip. _Iphig. in Aul._ 919. - -“My lofty mind is vehemently raised. But it knows how to pity -misfortune, and moderately to enjoy prosperity.” - - - XXII. “O’ercast with blushes that like roses seem.” - - And ever and anon with rosy red - The bashful blood her snowy cheeks did die, - And her became as polished ivorie, - Which cunning craftsman’s hand hath overlaid - With fair vermillion on pure lasterie. - Spenser, _Fairy Queen_. - - - XXIII. “In kisses o’er her hand his soul was cast.” - - Suaviolum dulci dulcius ambrosiâ. - Catul. xcvi. - - - XXVI. “Greater thy glory than Pendragon’s son,” &c. - - What resounds - In fable or romance of Uther’s son - Begirt with British and Armoric knights. - Milt. _Par. Lost_, i. 579. - -I have preferred the name Pendragon to Uther, as more resonant. -King Arthur’s father had both names. (Robert de Borron, _Hist._) - - - XXVII. “List to thy Destiny, and nerve thy arm.” - - Nunc age ... quæ deinde sequatur Gloria ... - Expediam dictis, et te tua fata docebo. - Virg. _Æn._ vi. - - “Cyclopian castles hewn from solid rock.” - -Though the penultimate in the first word is long in the Greek, in -Latin it is short: - - ----Vos et Cyclopia saxa, Experti. - Virg. _Æn._ i. 205. - - - XXIX. “Through no vain boast like Xerxes.” - - ----Tumidum super æquora Xerxem. - Luc. _Phars._ ii. 627. - - Suppositumque rotis solidum mare ... - Ille tamen qualis rediit Salamine relictâ, - Ipsum compedibus qui vinxerat Ennosigæum? - Juvenal. _Sat._ x. 176. - - - XXXIV. “She said, and pointing to the fields of France.” - - Così dicendo ... - ... tremò l’aria riverente, e i campi - Dell’ Oceano, e i monti, e i ciechi abissi. - Tasso, _Gerus. Lib._ xiii. 74. - - “And Heaven for long renown hath spared his hero soul.” - - Εὖ δὲ παθεῖν, τὸ πρῶτον ἀέθλων· - εὖ δ’ ἀκούειν, δευτέρα μοῖ- - ρ’. Ἀμφοτέροισι δ’ ἀνὴρ - ὃς ἂν ἐγκύρσῃ, καὶ ἕλῃ, - στέφανον ὕψιστον δέδεκται. - Pind. _Pyth._ i. - -“To use good fortune is the first of gifts, and to hear men’s -praise is the second felicity; but to whatever man both these -have fallen, he hath received the highest crown!” While Pindar -was eulogizing the Syracusan Hiero, one might think that he was -describing Wellington. - - - XXXVI. ----“Ne’er by land or main - Shall War’s barbarian triumphs wake thy pride.” - - Ipsum nos carmen deducit Pacis ad aram. - Pax ades; et toto mitis in orbe mane. - Dum desunt hostes, desit quoque causa triumphi. - Tu ducibus bello gloria major eris! - Sola gerat miles, quibus arma coërceat, arma; - Canteturque ferâ, nil nisi pompa, tubâ. - Horreat Æneadas et primus et ultimus orbis: - Si qua parum Romam terra timebit, amet. - Utque domus, quæ præstat eam, cum Pace perennet, - Ad pia propensos vota rogate Deos! - Ovid. _Fast._ i. 709. - - “But Peace with olive branch o’ershadowing bide, - And mark the Godhead in thy empire wide.” - - Φιλόφρον Ἡσυχία, Δίκας - ὦ μεγιστόπολι - θύγατερ, βουλᾶν τε καὶ πολέμων - ἔχοισα κλαῗδας - ὑπερτάτας. - Pind. _Pyth._ viii. - -“Oh bland Tranquillity, thou city-exalting daughter of Justice, -holding the keys supreme of councils and of wars!” - - XXXVII. “Nor let thy Fecial seers too nice refine.” - -To the college of Feciales was intrusted in ancient Rome the -preparation of treaties. - - - XXXVIII. “Strong be thy armament, as fits thy strength - Of mandate--powerful thy Lernæan clave.” - - Quis facta Herculeæ non audit fortia clavæ? - Propert. l. iv. Eleg. 10. - - “When thy artillery’s roar is heard o’er Ocean’s plain.” - - While o’er the encircling deep Britannia’s thunder roars. - Thomson, _Castle of Indolence_, Canto ii. - - - XXXIX. “And lording o’er thy empire of the Deep.” - -Our dominion of the sea seems to be in some degree indicated by -this line of Ovid, from his splendid panegyric on Julius Cæsar: - - Scilicet æquoreos plus est domuisse Britannos! - _Met._ xv. 752. - - - XLIV. ----“Resistless spread - Through boundless Asia, forced to bear thy arms.” - - ----Super et Garamantas et Indos - Proferet imperium * * * - Nec vero Alcides tantum telluris obivit; - Nec qui pampineis victor juga flectit habenis, - Liber, agens celso Nisæ de vertice tigres * * - Tu regere imperio populos, &c. - Virg. _Æn._ vi. - -It is the glory of England to be able to claim the excellence in -which Virgil admitted that the Romans were surpassed: - - Excudent alii spirantia mollius æra, - Credo equidem; vivos ducent de marmore vultus; - Orabunt causas melius, cœlique meatus - Describent radio et surgentia sidera dicent. - -In all these arts which Virgil excepts, it is our fortune to shine -pre-eminent. Our bar is unquestionably the first in the world; -our astronomers and scientific men are the first; our workers in -the metals and engravers are the best; and our sculptors are not -excelled. - - “VICTORIA blesses with her hand--not harms.” - - ----Victoria læta. - Hor. _Sat._ i. 1. - - ----prima viam Victoria pandit! - Virg. _Æn._ xii. - - - XLV. “Your bosoms, boundless wealth and luxury, tame.” - - At postquàm Fortuna loci caput extulit hujus, - Et tetigit summos vertice Roma Deos; - Creverunt et opes, et opum furiosa cupido; - Et, cùm possideant plurima, plura volunt. - Quærere ut absumant, absumpta requirere, certant; - Atque ipsæ vitiis sunt alimenta vices. - Sic, quibus intumuit suffusâ venter ab undâ, - Quo plus sunt potæ, plus sitiuntur aquæ. - In pretio pretium nunc est: dat census honores, - Census amicitias; pauper ubique jacet! - Ovid. _Fast._ i. 209. - -I shall conclude with the passage with which Euripides ends his -_Iphigenia in Tauris_:-- - - Ὦ μέγα σεμνὴ Νίκη, τὸν ἐμὸν - Βίοτον κατέχοις, - Καὶ μὴ λήγοις στεφανοῦσα. - -“Oh great and august VICTORIA, hold my life, nor fail to crown it -with thy smile!” - - - - - William Stevens, Printer, Bell Yard, Temple Bar. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[A] Napier begins his account thus: “RENEWED SIEGE OF SAN -SEBASTIAN.--Villatte’s demonstration against Longa on the 28th of -July had caused the ships laden with the battering-trains to put to -sea, but on the 5th of August the guns were re-landed and the works -against the fortress resumed,” &c.--_Hist. War in the Penins._ book -xxii. chap. 1. - -[B] Part. This purely Saxon word (modern German, _theil_) is now -written by us _deal_. “A great deal” means “a great part.” - -[C] Ambling like an Andalucian barb. - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE - - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - The ‘Table of Contents’ has been created and inserted before the - Preface by the Transcriber. - - Omitted text in quotations was indicated by ‘ * * ’ in the original - book, sometimes ‘ * * * ’, and this has been retained in the etext. - - Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been - corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within - the text and consultation of external sources. - - Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, - and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. - - Pg 15, ‘Athenian narrater’ replaced by ‘Athenian narrator’. - Pg 62, ‘recals the main’ replaced by ‘recalls the main’. - Pg 65, Stanza number ‘XI.’ replaced by ‘XII.’. - Pg 123, ‘Hom. _Od._ xi. 592’ replaced by ‘Hom. _Od._ xi. 598’. - Pg 126, ‘Porphyrio’ replaced by ‘Porphyrion’. - Pg 168, Stanza number ‘II.’ replaced by ‘III.’. - Pg 194, ‘Thy statues’ replaced by ‘Of statues’. - Pg 255, Stanza number ‘XI.’ replaced by ‘VII.’. - Pg 257, Stanza number ‘XXIII.’ replaced by ‘XLIII.’. - Pg 282, Stanza number ‘XLVII.’ inserted before “Even the dread ...”. - Pg 358, Stanza number ‘IV.’ replaced by ‘V.’. - Pg 358, Stanza number ‘VI.’ replaced by ‘VII.’. - Pg 358, All subsequent stanza numbers in the Notes for this Canto were - off by one, (so ‘VIII’ has been replaced by ‘IX’, etc.) - - Pg 31, παραίφαμενος replaced by παραιφάμενος. - Pg 88, δέ μισῶ replaced by δὲ μισῶ. - Pg 90, της ἀκμῆς replaced by τῆς ἀκμῆς. - Pg 125, Ὤ λῆμ replaced by Ὦ λῆμ. - Pg 125, τοις φίλοις replaced by τοῖς φίλοις. - Pg 126, Βία δέ replaced by Βία δὲ. - Pg 126, Τυφώς Κίλιξ replaced by Τυφὼς Κίλιξ. - Pg 126, Διμᾶθεν δέ replaced by Δμᾶθεν δὲ. - Pg 170, Σθένελός τέ replaced by Σθένελός τε. - Pg 194, μηκἐθ’ ἁλίου replaced by μηκέθ’ ἁλίου. - Pg 194, δὲ παξας replaced by δὲ πάξας. - Pg 226, Ὀμως δὲ replaced by Ὅμως δὲ. - Pg 226, Ἐλῶσι γὰρ replaced by Ἐλῶσι γάρ. - Pg 254, σπερμ’ Ἀχιλλέως replaced by σπέρμ’ Ἀχιλλέως. - Pg 254, Πατρῷ’ ἑλέσθαί replaced by Πατρῷ’ ἑλέσθαι. - Pg 255, νῷν ἀπέχθὴς replaced by νῷν ἀπεχθὴς. - Pg 255, γῦνὴ γὰρ replaced by γυνὴ γὰρ. - Pg 256, Ἐφυμεν, ὡς replaced by Ἔφυμεν, ὡς. - Pg 256, εἰ δοκεἶ replaced by εἰ δοκεῖ. - Pg 256, ἀτίμασας’ ἔχε replaced by ἀτιμάσασ’ ἔχε. - Pg 256, Δαϊζων ἵππους replaced by Δαΐζων ἵππους. - Pg 257, ἔπος, ὁυτέ replaced by ἔπος, οὗτέ. - Pg 257, σὴν χὲῤ replaced by σὴν χὲρ’. - Pg 281, φοινίου σαλου replaced by φοινίου σάλου. - Pg 357, ἐὰν αἰνῶς’ replaced by ἐὰν αἰνῶσ’. - Pg 357, μισθον replaced by μισθόν. - Pg 360, Αμφοτέροισι replaced by Ἀμφοτέροισι. - Pg 361, ἔχοισα κλαῖδας replaced by ἔχοισα κλαῗδας. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Iberia Won, by Terence McMahon Hughes - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IBERIA WON *** - -***** This file should be named 53855-0.txt or 53855-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/8/5/53855/ - -Produced by Josep Cols Canals, John Campbell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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display: block;} -} - - </style> - </head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Iberia Won, by Terence McMahon Hughes - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Iberia Won - A poem descriptive of the Peninsular War - -Author: Terence McMahon Hughes - -Release Date: January 1, 2017 [EBook #53855] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IBERIA WON *** - - - - -Produced by Josep Cols Canals, John Campbell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<div class="transnote"> -<p><strong>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</strong></p> - -<p>The ‘Table of Contents’ has been created and inserted before the -Preface by the Transcriber.</p> - -<p class="customcover">The cover image was created by the transcriber -and is placed in the public domain.</p> - -<p>Omitted text in quotations was indicated by ‘ * * ’ in the original -book, sometimes ‘ * * * ’, and this has been retained in the etext.</p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been -corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within -the text and consultation of external sources.</p> - -<p>More detail can be found at the <a href="#TN">end of the book.</a></p> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> - -<p class="p6" /> -<h1>IBERIA WON.</h1> -<p class="p6" /> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="p6" /> - -<p class="pfs80">LONDON:</p> -<p class="pfs70">WILLIAM STEVENS, PRINTER, BELL YARD,<br /> -TEMPLE BAR.</p> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> - -<p class="pfs240">IBERIA WON;</p> - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua">A Poem</p> - -<p class="p4 pfs80">DESCRIPTIVE OF</p> - -<p class="p2 pfs135">THE PENINSULAR WAR:</p> - -<p class="p4 pfs70">WITH IMPRESSIONS FROM RECENT VISITS TO</p> - -<p class="p2 pfs120">THE BATTLE-GROUNDS,</p> - -<p class="p2 pfs70">AND</p> - -<p class="p1 pfs100 antiqua">Copious Historical and Illustrative Notes.</p> - -<p class="p2 pfs120 lsp">BY T. M. HUGHES,</p> - -<p class="p1 pfs80">Author of “An Overland Journey to Lisbon,” “Revelations of Spain,” -“The Ocean Flower,” &c.</p> - -<p class="p4" /> -<hr class="tb" /> -<p class="p2" /> - -<p class="pfs120">LONDON:</p> -<p class="pfs100">LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS.</p> -<p class="pfs70">MDCCCXLVII.</p> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> - -<p class="p2 pfs120">TABLE OF CONTENTS</p> - -<div class="center fs90"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="80%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl">Preface</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_iii">iii</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">Introduction</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO III</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto III</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO IV</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto IV</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO V</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto V</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO VI</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto VI</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO VII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto VII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO VIII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto VIII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO IX</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto IX</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO X</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto X</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO XI</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_305">305</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto XI</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_322">322</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl tdpp">CANTO XII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_327">327</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Historical and Illustrative Notes to Canto XII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_344">344</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>PREFACE.</h2> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<div class="preface"> - -<p class="noindent">The following work is the result of six years’ -residence in the Peninsula, devoted to literary -pursuits. It contains the fruits (be they mature -or otherwise) of many excursions through Spain -and Portugal, of considerable opportunities of -observation, and much familiarity with localities -and people, as well as of meditative habits in an -isolated life, which during the last three years -especially has been compelled by severe sickness. -Love and admiration of the British Islands, -whose climate would be fatal to me, except during -two or three summer months, have been fostered -by constrained absence; and my attention having -been strongly turned to the great Peninsular -struggle, I have consulted every accessible work, -and every surviving authority within my reach, -that could illustrate a theme with which my mind -has been filled for years. While I have endeavoured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span> -to sustain the glory of England, I have -striven to award a meed of truthful but generous -justice to her Allies, and have not thought it -requisite to depreciate the well-earned fame of -France. Yet, even while celebrating the most -splendid military achievements, it has been my -aim to inculcate a horror of the bloody arbitrament -of War.</p> - -<p>Determined to perfect the work, so far as in me -lay, I last year traversed the whole Peninsula from -East to West, at the constant risk of a very -precarious life (which might thus, perhaps, become -not utterly valueless), and acquired the -advantages to be derived to my labours from visiting -the following battle-grounds:—Bayonne and -the Adour, the Nive, St. Pierre, the Nivelle, the -Bidasoa, San Marcial, Vera, Sauroren, San Sebastian, -Vitoria, Talavera, Almaraz, Albuera, and -Badajoz, having previously visited most of the -battle-fields in Portugal and in Northern and -Southern Spain.</p> - -<p>The task which I have undertaken, and accomplished -according to my means, was an ambitious -one, yet honourable. I scarcely dare to hope for -success. I feel the full force of the immortal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span> -Scott’s address to the illustrious Wellington, in -the Introduction to his <cite>Vision of Don Roderick</cite>:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But we weak minstrels of a laggard day,</p> -<p class="verse2">Skilled but to imitate an elder page,</p> -<p class="verse2">Timid and raptureless, can we repay</p> -<p class="verse2">The debt thou claim’st in this exhausted age?</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou giv’st our lyres a theme, that might engage</p> -<p class="verse2">Those that could send thy name o’er sea and land,</p> -<p class="verse2">While sea and land shall last; for Homer’s rage</p> -<p class="verse2">A theme; a theme for Milton’s mighty hand—</p> -<p class="verse">How much unmeet for us, a faint degenerate band!</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">But, while I regard with befitting humility the -result of this labour of love, I trust that the -spirit in which I have conceived and written has -at least been pure and irreproachable.</p> - -<p>It is with feelings of the utmost satisfaction and -pride that I notice, contemporaneously with the -appearance of this work, the concession of a -medal to our Peninsular veterans by the high-minded -Sovereign of England, whose propitious -name and reign are identified with victory:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλὰ γὰρ ἁ μεγαλώνυμος ἦλθε Νίκα.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Antig.</cite> 148.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="pfs90"><span class="smcap">Victoria</span> came with mighty name and glory.</p> - -<p>With equal pain have I witnessed, having traversed -Spain at the period, the recent success -of French intrigue and the spectacle of renewed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span> -subserviency. The wedding-ring may replace the -sword, but the instrument, because less bloody, -is not less fatal to Liberty; and the words of -Byron, at the close of the first Canto of <cite>Childe -Harold</cite>, become invested with prophetic and -appalling truthfulness:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Not all the blood at Talavera shed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Not all the marvels of Barosa’s fight,</p> -<p class="verse2">Not Albuera lavish of the dead,</p> -<p class="verse2">Have won for Spain her well asserted right.</p> -<p class="verse2">When shall her Olive-Branch be free from blight?</p> -<p class="verse2">When shall she breathe her from the blushing toil?</p> -<p class="verse2">How many a doubtful day shall sink in night,</p> -<p class="verse2">Ere the Frank robber turn him from his spoil,</p> -<p class="verse">And Freedom’s stranger-tree grow native of the soil!</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p4 fs85"><em>Lisbon, 1st March, 1847.</em></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<div><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a></div> -<h2>INTRODUCTION.</h2> - -<hr class="r10" /> - -<p>Of all the great achievements which make up the sum -of British glory, the Peninsular War and its results form -one of the grandest, brightest, and most unimpeachable. -These gigantic efforts were made in the holy cause of -Freedom; they were disinterested in a high and unparalleled -degree; their success was uniform, brilliant, and startling; -and their guerdon was the liberation and advancement of -mankind.</p> - -<p>For six years England had constantly employed in the -Spanish Peninsula from thirty to seventy thousand of her -troops, who besides sustaining combats innumerable, took -four great fortresses, attacked or defended in ten important -sieges, and were decisively victorious in nineteen pitched -battles, killing, wounding, or making prisoners, two hundred -thousand of the enemy. She liberally subsidized Spain -and Portugal, and maintained the troops of both countries, -regular and irregular, with supplies of ammunition, clothing, -and arms, while upon her own military operations she -expended upwards of one hundred millions sterling. Twice -she expelled the French from Portugal, and finally drove -them from Spain besides, surmounting and winning step -by step the terrific bulwark of the Pyrenees. With her -naval squadrons she repeatedly harassed the Invader by -well-combined descents upon the coasts, and rescued or -preserved Lisbon and Cadiz, Alicante and Carthagena.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -Her land forces tracked the enemy from Vimieiro to Busaco, -from Busaco to Navarre, over some of the most frightfully -broken ground in Europe, signally defeating them wherever -they came in collision, and sweeping them at times like -a wreck before the ocean-wave; and forty thousand of her -children fell in the Peninsula to attest her devotion to the -cause of Freedom.</p> - -<p>In this most memorable liberation of Spain from the -French invader, it is the glory of England to have realized -with singular exactness the splendid encomium of Livy: -“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Esse aliquam in terris gentem quæ suâ impensâ, suo -labore ac periculo, bella gerat pro libertate aliorum. Nec -hoc finitimis, aut propinquæ vicinitatis hominibus, aut terris -continenti junctis præstet. Maria trajiciat: ne quod toto -orbe terrarum injustum imperium sit, et ubique jus, fas, lex, -potentissima sint.</span>”—<cite>Hist. lib.</cite> xxxiii.</p> - -<p>The pre-eminent importance of the War of Independence -in Spain, and of the part which England took in that -struggle, has been acknowledged by rival French writers, -whose love of historic truth was too strong for the countervailing -influences of prejudice, passion, and professional -jealousy. M. Thiers, in his <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire du Consulat et de -l’Empire</cite>, speaks of it as “that long and terrible struggle, -that great Peninsular war, which lasted more than six -years, which exhausted more treasure and drained off a -greater tide of human blood than the murderous campaign -of Russia, and in which all the most renowned generals and -marshals of France were severally defeated, to the surprise -of Napoléon, and to the astonishment of the world, by an -English general, newly returned from India, whose name -was as yet almost a stranger to every mouth.”</p> - -<p>“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Elle était à juste titre désignée comme la cause première -et principale de la chute de Napoléon,</span>” is the remark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> -of General Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire de la Guerre de la Péninsule. -Avant-propos</cite>. And in one of his private letters he says, -“Moscow brought Alexander, Spain brought Wellington, -into the walls of our sacred city!”</p> - -<p>I am therefore sure of the intrinsic interest of my -subject, and am tremulous only about its treatment. Of -this much I at least am certain—that no one will exclaim, -as Horace did 2,000 years ago:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> -<p class="verse8">——“Quis feræ</p> -<p class="verse">Bellum curet Iberiæ?”</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">or be indifferent to the exploits of Englishmen in a -country, with whose people the same Horace coupled a -most flattering epithet—“<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">peritus Iber</i>.” The splendour -and the decadence, the glory and misfortunes, the ancient -grandeur and the existing distresses of Spain, the great -historic parts which we have played either in unison or -in rivalry,—above all, the terrible struggle which we maintained -together against a Power with which it was at first -despair to cope, and yet brought to a triumphant issue, -make it impossible that any record of that struggle can be -received with indifference; and the customary fate of -rashness and incompetency is the only one that I have to -apprehend.</p> - -<p>That these great and glorious exploits should not have -hitherto formed the subject of any extended poem may at -first appear surprising. But the reason is obvious—the -time had not yet arrived. The glare of contemporary -fame is unfavourable to poetic celebration, except in the -form of Pindar’s Olympionics, in dithyrambic odes imbued -with the intoxication of victory, or otherwise in such short -reflective sonnets as embodied a Wordsworth’s calm and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -philosophic spirit. The mists of time must be interposed -before the hero rises to the Demigod, an entirely new generation -must have succeeded, and the poet must himself -belong to that generation. The halo of Imagination must -invest what was before Reality, the subject must have attained -the dignity of the <em>myth</em>, or heroic legend, and Ideal -Art must be unencumbered by the pressure of the Actual. -That time appears to have arrived. Forty years have -elapsed since the commencement of this mighty struggle; -those of our Peninsular heroes whom the shock of battle -spared, have nearly all been gathered to their fathers, and -those who remain are like late surviving Nestors whose -heads are crowned with the snowy tonsure of Time.</p> - -<p>Into the construction of this poem it is unfit that I should -enter further than to state, that the action, which is in -some degree formed on the purest ancient model, comprises -a period of about two months, commencing a month -before and ending a month after the taking of San Sebastian -by storm. The besieged city forms the central point, -and the events there, with superadded imaginative incidents, -are combined with the fighting round San Sebastian, of -which the object was on one side to relieve, and on the -other to prevent the relief of that fortress. These are what -are usually known by the name of the Battles of the -Pyrenees, and commenced with the first battle of Sauroren, -which was fought on the 28th July, 1813; the storming of -San Sebastian occurred on the 31st of August; and the action -of the poem concludes with the passage of the Bidassoa, -and the advance of the Allied Army to the Greater Rhune, -by which the Spanish soil was freed from the presence of -the Invader—events which occurred on the 7th and 8th of -October. The second siege of San Sebastian commenced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -contemporaneously with the first battle of Sauroren, on the -28th July.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> The actual time therefore employed in the -action is precisely two months and twelve days. The -battles of the Pyrenees introduced are essentially interwoven -with the main subject, which is the capture of the great -fortress of San Sebastian, the principal event of the latter -part of the War while it was confined to the Spanish soil. -All the characters are grouped by the story round the -central figure of the besieged city, the incidents of the -<em>peripeteia</em> or plot are interwoven with that event and with -each other, and—if it be not presumption to use such -a word—the <em>Epos</em> is complete. The critics, I have no -doubt, will find abundant faults; and the rest I commit to -their tender mercies.</p> - -<p>Though the time, as essential to such compositions, is -in comparison with the duration of the War extremely -limited, all its leading incidents are introduced in the -permitted shapes of narrative, episode, allusion, and -apostrophe. The historical part of the work invites the -closest examination, as well as the local colouring, to which -a six years’ constant residence in the Peninsula has enabled -me, I trust, to impart some truth and vivacity. I have -lived in the midst of revolts, revolutions, and military -movements; my experience almost equals that of an actual -campaigner; and I have witnessed even portions of three -sieges—those of Seville and Barcelona in 1843, and that -of Almeida in Portugal in 1844. Copious historical and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -explanatory notes are annexed to each canto, and the description -of the battle grounds is made accurate by personal -observation of many of them, which I have embodied in -the notes. The theatre of that portion of the War which -enters into the action of the poem itself presents very -felicitous subjects for description, the ground being the -gigantic Pyrenees, and the combats there sustained being -more like those of Titans than of men. In addition to -much oral testimony, the authorities I have consulted are -very numerous, and as fidelity has been my constant aim -their language will be found frequently cited in the notes. -The principal of these are Napier’s <cite>History of the War -in the Peninsula</cite>, Southey’s <cite>History of the Peninsular -War</cite>, Foy’s <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire de la Guerre de la Péninsule</cite>, Gurwood’s -<cite>Despatches of the Duke of Wellington</cite>, Jones’s -<cite>Journals of the Sieges in Spain</cite>, Belmas’s <cite>Journals of -Sieges</cite>, compiled from official documents by order of the -French government, Captain Cooke’s <cite>Memoirs</cite>, Captain -Pringle’s <cite>Ditto</cite>, Captain Batty’s <cite>Campaign of the left -Wing of the Allied Army in the Western Pyrenees</cite>, Gleig’s -<cite>Subaltern, Annals of the Peninsular War</cite>, De la Pène’s -<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Campagnes de 1813 et 1814</cite>, and Pellot’s <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mémoires des -Campagnes des Pyrénées</cite>.</p> - -<p>A difficulty inseparable from this subject is its great -historical and political interest, which although in one -respect an advantage in another is a considerable drawback. -With events so well known and comparatively so -recent it is impossible to take liberties; invention is restrained, -and the imagination is confined within limits more -strict than the poetical faculty might desire for its operations. -If this objection has been felt with regard to -Tasso’s <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">Gerusalemme</i>, the personages of which were French -and Italian counts and princes familiar to the reader of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -general history, and whose acts and characters were well -known though they lived four centuries before he wrote, it -is clearly far more applicable in the present instance. The -answer at once is that an entirely different treatment must -be resorted to, that celestial machinery, witchcraft, and all -analogous means must be excluded, and that actual truth -must be made the basis of the whole composition. To -truth I have accordingly adhered, and invite the strictest -historical criticism, consistent with poetical diction and -imagery, of my account of these campaigns. The events -were fortunately of that brilliant description, and their -theatre, the Pyrenees, so essentially romantic, that the true -and the marvellous are here one and the same. Historical -accuracy is here an element of beauty; and my minor plot -is alone invented, yet is meant to be strictly probable.</p> - -<p>Nearly the entire of our modern military system dates -from the commencement of the Peninsular War. The -cumbrous old system which fought a whole campaign for -a comfortable place for winter quarters (a great aim with -Turenne) was broken up rapidly by the vigour of Napoléon, -and our first débût under the Duke of York had -taught us that we must change our plan. In 1808, the -very year of our first victories in the Peninsula (Roriça and -Vimieiro) the use of hair-powder was for the first time discontinued -in the British army. Rifle corps were then first -formed—in the first instance as rather a hopeless experiment, -our soldiers having been deemed too slow and -heavy for this practice; but, as the result proved, with -perfect success. From the Polish lancers whom we first -saw at Albuera we borrowed the idea of our corps of -lancers, as we afterwards took from the French cuirassiers -the modern equipment of our lifeguards. The brilliant -appearance of our light dragoons astonished the French<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -on their first appearance in the Peninsula. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Nos soldats, -frappés de l’élégance de l’habit des dragons légers, de leurs -casques brillants, de la tournure svelte des hommes et -des chevaux, leur avaient donné le nom de <em>lindors</em>.</span>”—Foy, -<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre Pénins.</cite> liv. 2. For this rather theatrical -display we substituted with better taste in 1813 an uniform -similar to that worn by the German light cavalry. The -Shrapnell shell, or spherical case shot, (the invention of -an English Colonel of that name) was used for the first -time during the Peninsular War with great effect.</p> - -<p>Amongst the many great services performed by the -Peninsular War was raising the character of the British -soldier from a very low to a very high standard in the -national estimation. The plays of Wycherley, Congreve, -Vanbrugh, and Mrs. Centlivre, the tales of Fielding, -Smollett, and Defoe, and the graver essays of Dr. Johnson, -sufficiently demonstrate that in the time of those writers -military men were held in the lowest esteem. The conquerors -of Blenheim and of the Heights of Abraham were -currently regarded as debauchees, cutthroats, and dishonest -adventurers, and where a more gentlemanly exterior was -exhibited, it was commonly united to the silliest foppery. -Such from the Restoration to the end of the last century -was the common character even of the officers of our army, -and the ruffianly brutality of <em>Ensign Northerton</em> towards -<em>Tom Jones</em> was perfectly characteristic in an age when -undoubtedly it was too true that pimping too often -obtained commissions, and it was an accurate general -description to say of any chance-met couple of officers that -“one had been bred under an attorney, and the other was -son to the wife of a nobleman’s butler.” (<cite>History of a -Foundling</cite>, book vii. c. 12). Though there were undoubtedly -many officers then of a far superior class, still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -the high tone of chivalrous honour in our army, and the -general refinement and accomplishment of character, belong -to the present century. It is the great praise of the -British private soldier that his stubborn will and indomitable -energy, his cheerful discipline and unflinching valour, -carry him through the most brilliant exploits to a success -almost miraculously uniform, without any of those tangible -hopes of promotion which inspire the continental soldier. -Such noble and manful discharge of duty appears to merit -some more adequate reward than the possible working of -a miracle which may raise him from the ranks.</p> - -<p>Wellington, in his admirable <cite>Despatches</cite>, says of the -army with which he won these Pyrenean victories: “I -think I could do any thing with them.” The resemblance -of many portions of these remarkable compositions to -those of Cæsar has been more than once pointed out; -but the striking coincidence in the present instance has -never, I believe, before been noticed: “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Non animadvertebatis,</span>” -says Cæsar, likewise speaking of the exploits of -his Peninsular veterans, “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">decem habere legiones populum -Romanum, quæ non solùm vobis obsistere, sed etiam -cœlum diruere possent.</span>” <cite lang="la" xml:lang="la">De Bello Hispanico</cite>, § ult. -Even the number of veterans under the command of the -ancient and the modern General was nearly the same.</p> - -<p>Indomitable energy and hearty courage are an old strain -in the English blood. They are thus attested by Cromwell:—“Indeed -we never find our men so cheerful as when -there is work to do.” Carlyle, <cite>Letters and Speeches of -Oliver Cromwell</cite>, Supplement. That no specific decoration -has yet been accorded to our Peninsular veterans -appears a most amazing oversight.</p> - -<p>The courage displayed in our Peninsular sieges was of -the highest order. There can be no question that, since<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -the commencement of the world, no military daring, no -dauntless valour, has been witnessed, Greek or Roman, -Saracenic or Chivalrous, to exceed—perhaps none to equal, -that of our storming parties at Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, -and San Sebastian. But it is very doubtful whether -human life was not unnecessarily squandered, and whether -the fire of the besieged should not have been silenced, and -their defences in the first instance destroyed. This opinion -seems now to be generally maintained both by engineer -officers and by experienced officers of the army. The dictum -of the great master of the art of fortification is in one respect -vindicated, though in another it has been broken down by -British heroism: “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">La précipitation dans les sièges ne hâte -point la prise des places, la retarde souvent, et ensanglante -toujours la scène.</span>” Vauban, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Maximes</cite>. General Foy, who -sometimes emancipates himself from his prejudices against -England, and is often candid, while he praises the courage -of our men, says that it was needlessly expended, and that -the taking of fortified places by the rules of art is reduced -to a mathematical problem. But the bravery of our troops -is still unquestionable. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">On eût dit que les ingénieurs -étaient là seulement pour construire les places d’armes -desquelles s’élanceraient les troupes destinées a l’assaut ou -à l’escalade; et encore eût-on pu à la rigueur, avec des -soldats si déterminés, se passer de leur ministère.</span>” Foy, -<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre Pénins.</cite> liv. ii. I must transcribe his testimony -as to the conduct of our officers: “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">L’officier anglais conduisait -les troupes au feu sans effort, et avec une bravoure -admirable. * * La gloire de l’armée britannique lui vient -avant tout de son excellente discipline et de la bravoure calme -et franche de la nation.</span>” But Foy adds a stigma which -these sieges affixed to our army, and these sieges alone in -all our Peninsular campaigns, and the impartiality which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -I am determined to preserve, and from which in some years -to come I am convinced not the slightest departure will -be tolerated, requires that it be rigorously unveiled for the -reprobation of a more enlightened age:—“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Une fois sortis -de la discipline, les soldats anglais se livrent à des excès -qui étonneraient les Cosaques; ils s’enivrent dès qu’ils le -peuvent, et leur ivresse est froide, apathique, anéantissante.</span>” -Humanity shudders at the brutalities perpetrated -by our soldiers at Badajoz and San Sebastian.</p> - -<p>It was not without much reason that the general opinion -throughout Europe attributed the extraordinary successes -of the revolutionary armies of France to the admirable -arrangement of the light infantry service. Napoléon may -be said to have created the corps of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">voltigeurs</i> and <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tirailleurs</i>, -upon which model were subsequently formed the Carabineers -and Rifles of the British service, and the Caçadores -of Spain and Portugal. The Prussian General Bulow in -1795, stated his opinion that “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">l’emploi de l’infanterie légère -est le dernier perfectionnement de la guerre, et qu’à la -rigueur on pourrait désormais se passer d’infanterie de ligne -dans les armées!</span>” <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Esprit du Système de Guerre moderne, -par un ancien officier prussien.</cite> We may laugh at the -extravagant absurdity of the latter part of this statement, -but it shows the effect which Napoléon’s new system had -produced. An opinion nearly similar prevailed about the -same time in England. “The continent has been subdued -by the French <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tirailleurs</i>, and battles are sought to be won -by killing one after another the officers of the enemy’s -army.” <cite>Letter to a General-Officer on the Establishment of -Rifle Corps in the British Army.</cite> By Col. Robinson. These -rifle corps were established, and became eminently successful, -being detached in companies to the different infantry -brigades. The coolness, however, of our ordinary infantry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -skirmishers in the Peninsula rendered an extensive introduction -of rifle corps unnecessary.</p> - -<p>The rifle, as used in modern warfare, is the most terrible -because most treacherous of weapons. It would have fallen -especially under the ban of the Bayards and Montlucs of -the sixteenth century, who chivalrously deprecated the use -even of the common firelock, and formed vows worthy of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite>, “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pour qu’on abandonnât l’usage de ces armes -traîtresses au moyen desquelles un lâche, tapi derrière un -buisson, donne la mort au brave qu’il n’aurait pas regardé -en face!</span>”</p> - -<p>Colonel H. A. Dillon says that for what the French call -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le moral d’une armée</i> he can find no equivalent in the English -language, and must explain his thought by paraphrase. -He defines this <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">moral</i> to be the liveliest courage produced -by the purest patriotism. <cite>Commentary on the Military -Establishments and Defences of the British Empire</cite>, vol. i. -This <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">moral</i> the French lost by their repeated defeats in the -Peninsula, and by the conviction forced on them that even -the Pyrenees were no longer a barrier. Napoléon placed in -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le moral</i> three fourths of the power of an army. Celerity -of movement was the principal secret of the early French -successes, and of this the rapid marching of the French -soldier and his wonderful power of sustaining fatigue were -the main elements. The French soldier is small of stature, -as General Foy himself confesses, but he marches quick -and long, and this the General in great part attributes to -the French eating much more bread than any other European -troops: “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Les soldats qui mangent le plus de pain et le -moins de viande sont en général plus musculeux, et marchent -plus vite et plus long temps que les autres. * * Le Français -a besoin en campagne de deux livres de pain par jour.</span>”—Foy, -<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre Pénins.</cite> liv. i.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> - -<p>The astonishing developement which Napoléon gave to -the infantry service has been dwelt on by more than one -writer. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">L’infanterie française, cette nation des camps,</span>” -says De Barante, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Des Communes et de l’Aristocratie</cite>. Napoléon -gave to this arm a power and vigour to which it was -before a stranger. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Napoléon augmenta le bataillon d’infanterie -d’une autre compagnie d’élite, les voltigeurs. Ce -fut une idée heureuse que de rehausser dans l’estime publique -les hommes de petite taille, qui en général sont -les plus intelligens et les plus alertes.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. -Guerre Pénins.</cite>) The consummation of the Emperor’s -gigantic views was found in the Imperial Guard. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">La -garde impériale représentait la gloire de l’armée et la -majesté de l’empire. On choisissait les officiers et les soldats -parmi ceux que les braves avaient signalés comme les plus -braves: tous étaient couverts de cicatrices.</span>”—(Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. -Guerre Pénins.</cite> liv. i.) Napoléon after the battle of Marengo -called them his “granite column.” At the height -of his power his Imperial Guard consisted of 68 battalions, -31 squadrons, and 80 pieces of artillery—in itself a powerful -army. Never will the exclamation of these devoted men on -the field of Waterloo be forgotten: “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">La garde meurt et ne -se rend pas!</i>”</p> - -<p>The peculiar constitution of the French grenadier corps -is likewise to be remarked. These bodies were the combined -excerpts of all the best men from every regiment. -“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">L’éclat et la prééminence des grenadiers Français * * l’usage -de réunir tous ceux d’une ou de plusieurs brigades pour tenter -des actions de vigueur.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre Pénins.</cite>, liv. ii.) -To these we never opposed more than our average regimental -forces, and their picked men were for the most part -overcome by our rank and file. What this rank and file -was composed of let the following passage attest. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Les -Anglais n’escaladent pas la montagne et n’effleurent pas la<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -plaine, lestes et rapides comme les Français; mais ils sont -plus silencieux, plus calmes, plus obéissants; pour ce -motif leurs feux sont plus assurés et plus meurtriers.</span>” (Foy, -<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre Pénins.</cite>, liv. ii.) Such is the brilliant testimony -to the merits of the British soldier by one of -Napoléon’s own Generals. Our footmen are still the -sturdy yeomen who accomplished such marvels at Crecy. -If in a state little removed from brute ignorance they have -done such wonders, what may be expected from them in -the not far distant day, when they shall become elevated -by education to a more fitting standard? Splendid as our -horses are, and our dragoons both heavy and light, the -strength of our army will be always in its powerful infantry, -in their steady fire, indomitable endurance, and incomparable -use of the bayonet. These are the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">robur peditum</i>, -like the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">triarii</i> of the Roman legions, who were chosen -from the strongest men, and ever fought on foot. It was -remarked that in moments of peril they set their limbs so -strongly, that their knees were somewhat bowed (precisely -like our modern pugilists), as if they would rather die than -remove from their places; and it passed into a proverb, when -a thing came to extremity: “<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">ad triarios res venit</i>.”</p> - -<p>The use of tents, like many another classic incumbrance, -has been swept away from campaigning by our modern -tactics, which originated at the commencement of the -Peninsular War, and, arrived at the bivouac, the “lodging -is on the cold ground” and <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">sub Jove frigido</i>. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">L’usage -des tentes préservait les troupes des maladies pernicieuses. -Tout cela est vrai, et cependant on ne reviendra ni aux -petites armées, ni aux sièges de convention ni aux maisons -de toile.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre Pénins.</cite> liv. i.) The commander -who makes a campaign with tents is fettered with -embarrassments as to means of transport, which must -always place him in a state of inferiority to an adversary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -not thus encumbered. This is one of the great changes -wrought by the wonderful genius of Napoléon, which even -amidst the new hardships which he imposed, secured -almost the adoration of his soldiers. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ils frémissent -encore d’alégresse en exprimant le transport dont on fut -saisi, quand l’empereur, qu’on croyait bien loin, apparut -tout-à-coup devant le front des grenadiers, monté sur son -cheval blanc et suivi de son mamelouck.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. -Guerre Pénins.</cite> liv. ii.) At the close of the War, the person -of Wellington commanded almost equal admiration.</p> - -<p>I am a great admirer of General Napier, whom I regard -as the counterpart of Thucydides, the soldier-historian of -Athens, and to whom may be not infelicitously applied the -character assigned to Xenophon (another <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'Athenian narrater'">Athenian narrator</ins> -of military exploits in which he himself participated) by -our earliest Latin lexicographer, Thomas Thomas, the contemporary -of Shakspeare: “Xenophon was a noble and -wyse captaine, and of a delectable style in wrytynge.” -Napier’s style is enchanting and stirs like the sound of a -trumpet. My obligations to him are unbounded. But -Heaven forbid that his enthusiasm for War should become -general, for it is of a truly rabid character:—“War is -the condition of this world. From man to the smallest -insect all are at strife!” (<cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite>, book -xxiv. chap. 6.) This is a mere reproduction of Hobbes: -“The state of nature is a state of war.” I trust that -peace will ere long be the enduring condition of this world; -and there are happily indications of that approaching consummation. -If I sing the glories of the Peninsular War, -it is because it was of a defensive character and we struck -for Freedom. We may surely now repose on our laurels -(as it is phrased), and never hereafter engage in a war -which shall not be in the strictest sense inevitable.</p> - -<p>I am happy to record upon this subject the enlightened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -sentiments of a French General: “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">L’esprit de liberté -tuera l’esprit militaire. Il ne sera plus permis aux princes -de faire entr’égorger les peuples pour des intérêts de dynastie, -ou pour des lubies d’ambition. Les gouvernants, quels que -soient leur titre et l’origine de leur pouvoir, ne pourront -subsister qu’en s’effaçant personnellement devant la -volonté générale. Les nations, comparant les désastres de la -bataille au mince profit de la victoire, ne pousseront plus le -cri de guerre, hormis dans les circonstances très rares où il -s’agira de vivre libre ou mourir.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre -Pénins.</cite> liv. i.) Elsewhere he makes this acute criticism on -the audacious designs of Napoléon. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Le despotisme avait -été organisé pour faire la guerre; on continua la guerre -pour conserver le despotisme. Le sort en était jeté; la -France devait conquérir l’Europe, ou l’Europe subjuguer -la France. * * La nature a marqué un terme au-delà -duquel les enterprises folles ne peuvent pas être conduites -avec sagesse. Ce terme l’empereur l’atteignit en Espagne, -et le dépassa en Russie. S’il eût échappé alors à sa -ruine, son inflexible outrecuidance (presumption) lui eût -fait trouver ailleurs Baylen et Moscou.</span>” Such is the impartial -testimony of one of his own generals.</p> - -<p>The French “playing at soldiers” is an old vice, older than -the days of Sir Thomas More, who thus pleasantly hits it off: -“In France there is yet a more pestiferous sort of people, -for the whole country is full of soldiers, that are still kept -up in time of peace, if such a state of a nation can be -called a peace: and these are kept in pay upon the same -account, it being a maxim of those pretended statesmen, -that it is necessary for the public safety, to have a good -body of veteran soldiers ever in readiness. But France has -learned to its cost, how dangerous it is to feed such beasts.” -Louis XIV. kept up a standing army of 440,000 men, and -Napoléon had frequently more.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Gauls in modern times seem to have very much -changed their nature, for so far from invading other -countries, their reputation amongst the ancients was for -remaining to fight at home, according to the obvious -interpretation of a line in Pindar:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐνδομάχας ἅτ’ ἀλέκτωρ.</span>—<cite>Olymp.</cite> xii.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">domi pugnans ceu Gallus.</span>” To be sure, it is just -possible that the learned Theban may have meant that -humble domestic fowl, a cock. Erasmus reads “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">domi -abditus.</span>” There can be no doubt that a cock was meant, -and unquestionably it is a bellicose bird. The passage -from Pindar might be fairly rendered by the Latin adage: -“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Gallus in suo sterquilinio,</span>” which it is needless to turn -into the vernacular. There are symptoms of the French -reforming this national vice, and I therefore shall not -dwell upon a somewhat disagreeable subject.</p> - -<p>I am happy to be the first to record the true orthography -of one of our two first and not least important battles in the -Peninsula, Roriça and Vimieiro. They used to be invariably -written Roleia and “Vimeira.” Napier has considerably -improved upon this, making the latter “Vimiero.” But -still he is wrong. The correct word is “Vimieiro.” Even -had I made no other discovery, my four years’ residence in -Portugal would not have been useless. True, it may be -said that the General has only “knocked an <em>i</em> out of it” in -military fashion. But, though the error be confined to a -single letter, it would be only the change of a letter to call -Waterloo “Waterlog,” and who could excuse such a -travesty of our glorious victory? These mistakes in the -orthography of the names of Peninsular localities are -common to all English writers, and excellent a scholar -as Southey was, they disfigure his History as well as that -of Napier. I find the names of these two battles misdescribed -as “Roleia” and “Vimieira” in the memoir by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -Sir B. D’Urban lately reproduced at the elevation of Sir -H. Hardinge to the Peerage—should I not rather say the -elevation of the Peerage by the accession to it of that -gallant and chivalrous Peninsular veteran?</p> - -<p>The French, too, write the names of these battles -as erroneously. They call them uniformly “Roliça” and -“Vimeiro,” vide “<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire de la Guerre de la Péninsule, par -le Général Foy</cite>,” “<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mémoires par Pellot, Campagnes par De -la Pène</cite>,” <em>and</em> “<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mémoires de M. la Duchesse d’Abrantès</cite>” -passim. Napier in the twenty-fourth book of his History -takes leave of the comparative approach to accuracy in his -earlier books, and speaks of these battles every where as -“Roliça” and “Vimiera.” Specks in the sun!</p> - -<p>In my choice of a metre I have been led by the following -considerations. The beauty and completeness of -the stanza of Spenser appear now to be generally acknowledged. -But it certainly presents great difficulties in a -language so unvocal compared with those of Southern -Europe, and so little abounding in rhymes as the English. -It is more difficult in a narrative and consecutive poem -than in one of a descriptive and reflective character, like -<cite>Childe Harold</cite>, where the topics and the order in which -they shall be discussed are both at the discretion of the -poet. Yet the terrible exigencies of four recurring rhymes -in each stanza have led even such a master as Byron into -not a few puzzling dilemmas, as in his description of Cintra -(<cite>Childe Harold</cite>, i. 19), where he has completed a stanza, in -which “steep,” “weep,” and “deep” had already done -service, with “torrents leap,” although the faintest trickle -of a torrent was never seen in that locality! As he proceeded -in his task, he attained to a more perfect mastery -of his materials; and, I think, the fourth canto unsurpassed -in English poetry. It may be asked why I hoped -to succeed in what Byron found so difficult? My answer is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -that I do not think the difficulty insuperable, as Byron has -proved it not to be in the latter and infinitely finer part of -his poem, that none but a Milton could elevate blank verse -to the sublimity as well as harmony of the <cite>Paradise Lost</cite>, -that rhyme, and especially such an elegant form of rhymed -verse as the stanza of <cite>Childe Harold</cite>, possesses a popular -and inalienable charm, that success (if achieved at all) rises -with the magnitude of the difficulties encountered, and -that Spenser himself, Thomson’s <cite>Castle of Indolence</cite>, -his other imitators, Shenstone’s <cite>Schoolmistress</cite>, Beattie’s -<cite>Minstrel</cite> and West’s <cite>Education</cite>, Campbell’s <cite>Gertrude of -Wyoming</cite>, occasional short pieces by Wordsworth, Wiffin’s -<cite>Translation of Tasso</cite>, Scott’s introductions to very many -cantos of his several poems (in these two latter cases I -speak merely of mechanical execution), Shelley’s <cite>Revolt of -Islam</cite> and <cite>Adonais</cite>, Kirke White’s <cite>Hermit of the Pacific</cite> -and <cite>Christiad</cite>, Mrs. Norton’s <cite>Child of the Islands</cite>, and a few -(too few) verses of Tennyson and Milnes abundantly prove the -capability of the stanza. The Italian <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">ottava rima</i>, although -sanctified by the use of Tasso and Ariosto, adopted almost -universally in the heroic poetry of one Peninsula, and most -successfully introduced by Camóens into the only epic -poetry of the other, appears unadapted for any but burlesque -or satirical poetry in the English language, the serious passages -of <cite>Don Juan</cite> deriving all their beauty from being -interspersed with lighter, and the excellence and power of -Fairfax’s <cite>Tasso</cite> being marred by the effect of the metre. -The English heroic couplet becomes clearly, I think, monotonous -in a long poem—a doom from which not all the -genius of Dryden and Pope could rescue it. And if in his -<cite>Corsair</cite>, <cite>Lara</cite>, and <cite>The Island</cite>, Byron proved, in the words -of Jeffrey, that “the oldest and most respectable measure -that is known amongst us is as flexible as any other,” and -elicited from Sir E. Brydges a just tribute to his “unbroken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -stream of native eloquence,” it is precisely because “the -narrative (as he says) is rapid,” and because the hazardous -experiment is not tried of continuing rhymed distiches -through a long poem. The Italian <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">ottava rima</i> has been -observed to derive great strength from its majestic close, -which is invariably in a doubly rhymed couplet, and I have -occasionally introduced double rhymes in this and other -parts of the stanza to relieve the tendency to monotony. -The most distinguished cultivator of Southern literature -that England has ever produced, Lord Holland, in his -translations from Lope de Vega, Luis de Gonzaga, &c., -and from Ariosto, was very successful in this imitation. -The hypercatalectic syllable occurs in every line of Tasso’s -<cite lang="it" xml:lang="it">Gerusalemme</cite>, and in every line of Camóens’ <cite lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Lusiadas</cite>, and -the Italians and Portuguese therefore call the verse “hendecasyllabic.” -A poem of any length constructed on this -principle in English would degenerate into pure burlesque; -but Byron and others have proved that it may be advantageously -introduced as a pleasing variety.</p> - -<p>The Alexandrine at the close of each stanza of Spenser -produces an equivalent, and perhaps even a more majestic -effect. It has been objected to this Alexandrine that it -gives a drawling tone to a long narrative poem; but I do -not think with justice, since very much depends on the -mode in which the line is constructed. Pope’s celebrated -“needless Alexandrine” has created a prejudice against -this metre, which I admit to be just where it is interspersed -with heroic verse, since, as Johnson correctly observes, it -disappoints the ear. But in the stanza of Spenser it is -expected. How easily the form and character of a verse -may be changed by transposing a word or two will appear -from Pope’s famous imitative Alexandrine:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">“Which like a wounded snake drags its slow length along.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">Alter two monosyllables, and it goes quite trippingly from -the tongue:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">“And like a wounded snake it drags its length along.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">There is no essential alteration. The adjective “slow” -omitted is an incorrect epithet applied to “length,” since -the quickest objects in nature, a racehorse or a greyhound, -appear very long when upon full stretch, and in most rapid -movement. The trick of the line is in the simple use of -spondees in the place of iambuses, “which like,” “drags -its,” “slow length.” How short and compact an Alexandrine -may be, may be seen in Horace’s Epodes <em>passim</em>. -Take the first line of the celebrated second ode, the “<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">longè -pulcherrima</i>” by the consent of all critics:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> -<p class="verse">“Beatus ille qui procul negotiis.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">This is a perfect Alexandrine, and though consisting of -twelve syllables, does not appear longer than one of Scott’s -shortest octosyllabic lines in the <cite>Lady of the Lake</cite>:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">“Thy threats, thy mercy I defy.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">The reason is because it is a pure Iambic line, and therefore -very vocal; since, if it contained many consonants, as -nearly every English line does, they must make most of the -previous vowels long by position; and, though accent -generally determines the quantity in English, literal quantity -enters more into the construction of English verse -than is commonly supposed.</p> - -<p>I may here observe that the stanza commonly called -“Spenserian” is by no means so purely an original invention -of that most imaginative poet as is usually represented. -The Alexandrine at the close is the only part that is original. -I find the germ of Spenser’s stanza very palpably in the -old ballet-staves and in the works of two poets who lived -fully a century before him, Skelton who styled himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -Poet Laureate to Henry VII. and Stephen Hawes who was -Gentleman of the Bedchamber to the same monarch. The -following stanza is from Skelton’s “Elegy on the death of -Henry Percy, fourth Earl of Northumberland:”—it is the -ballet-stave of seven, in which was written an enormous -quantity of early, but now forgotten, English poetry, and -in which Spenser has written his “Ruins of Time,” and -Shakspeare his “Rape of Lucrece.”</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry" lang="enm" xml:lang="enm"> -<p class="verse">O cruell Mars, thou dedly god of war!</p> -<p class="verse2">O dolorous Teusday, dedicate to thy name,</p> -<p class="verse">When thou shoke thy sworde so noble a man to mar!</p> -<p class="verse2">O grounde ungracious, unhappy be thy fame,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which wert endyed with rede blode of the same!</p> -<p class="verse">Most noble earl! O fowle mysuryd grounde</p> -<p class="verse">Whereon he gat his fynal dedely wounde!</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">Down to the end of the fifth line this is precisely the stanza -of Spenser. With the addition of two lines, one rhyming -with the last, and the other with the fifth, and of two syllables -to the closing line, it is literally that stanza. But in -fact the latter addition was often made by both Skelton -and Hawes, though irregularly, metrical cadence being then -imperfectly understood, and both poets being of the “tumbling” -school. This poem was probably composed in the -year 1490. Skelton died in 1529, and an edition of his -poems in black letter appeared in 1568. I take the stanza -which follows from a poem of Hawes’s called “The History -of Graunde Amoure and la Belle Pucel,” written in -1505 and published in quarto in 1555:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry" lang="enm" xml:lang="enm"> -<p class="verse">Till that I came unto a ryall gate,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where I saw stondynge the goodly portresse,</p> -<p class="verse">Whyche asked me from whence I came a-late;</p> -<p class="verse2">To whom I gan in every thynge expresse</p> -<p class="verse2">All myne adventure, chaunce, and busynesse,</p> -<p class="verse">And eke my name; I told her every dell;</p> -<p class="verse">Whan she herde this she lyked me right well.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">The construction of this stanza is the same as of the former,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -but the versification is rather rougher. It, like the -other, is very near the Spenserian stanza. But it is not the -Spenserian stanza. Friar Bacon and Leonardo da Vinci -were very near the discovery of steam, but they did not -discover steam, or at all events they did not apply it. The -stanzas cited, however, contain the great distinguishing -peculiarity of the stanza of Spenser, which is the reduplication -of the rhyme, that closes the second and fourth -lines, in the fifth—the doubling of the stanza within itself, -and turning upon this most musical pivot. And this -beauty, like so many other great discoveries, I believe to -be probably the result of accident. Add another line to -each of the foregoing stanzas, make it rhyme with the first -and third, and interpose it between the fourth and fifth -lines, and you have the exact <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">ottava rima</i> of the Italians. -This ballet-stave is the clear germ of the Spenserian stanza, -which with a few <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">perfectionnemens</i> is precisely as it stands. -It may be traced more directly to the ballet-stave of eight, -but either will suit equally well for illustration.</p> - -<p>To make this quite intelligible to every reader, Hawes’s -stanza becomes the exact <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">ottava rima</i> of the Italians, which -Surrey brought into England, and in which Spenser wrote -two of his poems, the rhyme of Fairfax’s <cite>Tasso</cite>, of Frere’s -<cite>Whistlecraft</cite>, and Byron’s <cite>Don Juan</cite>, by the insertion of the -single line which I have added here in italics:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Till that I came unto a royal gate,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where I saw standing the goodly portresse,</p> -<p class="verse">Who askéd me from whence I came of late;</p> -<p class="verse2">To whom I ’gan in every thing express</p> -<p class="verse"><em>The various hazards of my chequered fate</em>,</p> -<p class="verse2">All mine adventure, chaunce, and busynesse,</p> -<p class="verse">And eke my name; I told her every dell:<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></p> -<p class="verse">When she heard this she likéd me right well.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">The stanza becomes purely Spenserian by the addition of -the two lines and one word which I here insert in italics:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Till that I came unto a royal gate,</p> -<p class="verse4">Where I saw standing the goodly portresse,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who askéd me from whence I came of late;</p> -<p class="verse4">To whom I ’gan in every thing express</p> -<p class="verse4">All mine adventure, chaunce, and busynesse,</p> -<p class="verse2"><em>With every accident that me befel</em></p> -<p class="verse4"><em>Throughout my chequered life—I could no less—</em></p> -<p class="verse2">And eke my name; I told her every dell:</p> -<p class="verse">When she this <em>story</em> heard she likéd me right well.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>The ballet-stave of seven is one of the many varieties of -Chaucer, who has written in this measure four of his -“Canterbury Tales,” and composed a very long poem in it, -<cite>Troylus</cite>, of which the following stanza is a specimen (lib. -ii. 1030.)</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry" lang="enm" xml:lang="enm"> -<p class="verse">For though that the best harper upon live</p> -<p class="verse">Would on the beste sounid jolly harpe</p> -<p class="verse">That evir was, with all his fingers five</p> -<p class="verse">Touch aie o string, or aie o warble harpe,</p> -<p class="verse">Were his nailes poincted nevir so sharpe,</p> -<p class="verse">It shoulde makin every wight to dull</p> -<p class="verse">To heare is glee, and of his strokes full.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">This, like the other, becomes the perfect <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">ottava rima</i> by -the addition of a single line, which I have likewise marked -in italics:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry" lang="enm" xml:lang="enm"> -<p class="verse">For though that the best harper upon live</p> -<p class="verse">Would on the beste sounid jolly harpe</p> -<p class="verse">That evir was, with all his fingers five</p> -<p class="verse">Touch aie o string, or aie o warble harpe,</p> -<p class="verse"><em>And with Glaskyrion the Briton strive</em>,</p> -<p class="verse">Were his nailes poincted nevir so sharpe,</p> -<p class="verse">It shoulde makin every wight to dull</p> -<p class="verse">To heare his glee, and of his strokes full.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">The addition refers to a celebrated ancient Welsh harper -mentioned with honour by Chaucer himself in his <cite>Boke of -Fame</cite>. I shall not further meddle by patchwork with the -illustrious Father of English Poetry. But, as in the former<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -case, by the addition of two lines and one word I could -at once convert his stanza into that of Spenser. The <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">ottava -rima</i> was not then invented, nor for many years after -Chaucer wrote, not having made its appearance until the -days of Boiardo and Berni, nor been brought to perfection -until the lyre was held by the master hands of Ariosto and -Tasso. The secret of the great resemblance of this stanza -as employed by Chaucer to that subsequently invented by -his Italian successors is, that both delved in the same mine -and wrought upon the same material—the Sicilian sonnet, -first introduced and naturalized in Europe by Chaucer’s -great contemporary, Petrarch. So perfect was this instrument, -the sonnet, at its discovery, that the fine taste -of Petrarch adhered to it throughout life with marvellous -tenacity, and at this day Wordsworth has without change -written nearly half his poetry in it. I believe Chaucer, -who either copied or adapted many of his modes of versification -from Petrarch, to have moulded his ballet-staves -both of seven and eight, by squaring them with the first -half of the Sicilian or Petrarcan sonnet, with which they -are nearly identical. The Italian successors of Petrarch -in the same way took the first half of the sonnet, transposing -the first and second lines, and inserting another line -between the fourth and fifth lines. Thus simply is derived -the far-famed <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">ottava rima</i>.</p> - -<p>In real fact and truth, Chaucer has had nearly as -much share in the formation of what is known as the -stanza of Spenser as Spenser himself. That stanza is -purely the ballet-stave of eight with three close rhymes—with -the simple addition by Spenser of an Alexandrine -at the close, rhyming with the last verse of the ballet-stave. -There are some who trace these ballet-staves to -the Latin rhymed church iambics, and the germ of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -ballet-stave of eight has been sought in a Latin hymn -written by the German monk, Ernfrid, in the ninth -century; but they are to be traced more probably (at least -in their more perfect shape) to the Romance poetry of the -Provençals. The first instance I meet with of the use -of the ballet-stave of eight in English verse is in the elegy -on the death of our first Edward, written from internal -evidence shortly after that period. The rhymes and their -arrangement are precisely as in the stanza of Spenser, but -the verse is octosyllabic:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry" lang="enm" xml:lang="enm"> -<p class="verse">Alle that beoth of huerte trewe</p> -<p class="verse2">A stounde herkneth to my song</p> -<p class="verse">Of duel that deth hath diht us newe</p> -<p class="verse2">That maketh me syke and sorrow among. &c.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>Chaucer was the first who wrote this stanza in the heroic -line of ten syllables, and his contribution to the stanza is -therefore quite as important as Spenser’s addition of the -closing Alexandrine. In this stanza Chaucer has written -the whole of the Monk’s Tale, and how entirely it is the -stanza of <cite>Childe Harold</cite>, with the exception of the Alexandrine -at the end, may be seen from the following -example:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry" lang="enm" xml:lang="enm"> -<p class="verse">His wif his lordes, and his concubines</p> -<p class="verse">Ay dronken, while her appetitis last,</p> -<p class="verse">Out of thise noble vessels sondry wines;</p> -<p class="verse">And on a wall this King his eyen cast,</p> -<p class="verse">And saw an hand armles that wrote ful fast,</p> -<p class="verse">For fere of whiche he quoke, and siked sore.</p> -<p class="verse">This hand that Balthasar so sore aghast,</p> -<p class="verse">Wrote <em>Mane techel phares</em> and no more.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>The <cite>Faëry Queen</cite> stanza must be regarded as a felicitous -discovery rather than invention, and even the merit of the -addition becomes diminished by the consideration that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -Alexandrine verse had become a great favourite amongst -his contemporary poets before he used it. It was the -favourite metre of a Howard and a Sidney at the commencement -of the era of Elizabeth, and is frequently met -in our alliterative poems, both early English and Anglo-Saxon. -Yet Dr. Johnson has most erroneously represented -Spenser as the inventor of the Alexandrine! But so -fortunate was Spenser’s completion of the stanza, that all -the attempts of Phineas Fletcher, Giles Fletcher, Prior, -and even Milton, to improve on it were unavailing, and -it may now be regarded as one of the special glories of -England.</p> - -<p>The stanza of Spenser, as used by that poet, was by no -means the perfect musical stave that it is at present, -so exquisitely attuned with the dominant quadruple rhyme -for its key-note. Thomson appears to me to have brought -it very nearly to perfection—his sole drawback being a -too frequent indulgence in imperfect rhymes. In Byron’s -fourth canto of <cite>Childe Harold</cite> I conceive it to be brought -to perfection. Spenser indulges constantly in imperfect -rhymes, and though sometimes musical as well as often -charmingly fanciful and suggestive, he was by no means -such a master of language and rhythm as Shakspeare, whose -influence, followed up by the examples of Milton, Dryden, -and Pope, is felt in the excellence of the poetical diction -of the poets of this century. Though Spenser in some degree -discovered the stanza which bears his name, he did not complete -the discovery, for his Alexandrine is commonly deficient -in the cæsural pause, which is absolutely essential to the -satisfaction of the ear and to the majestic close of the -stanza, and now almost as much <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">de rigueur</i> as it is in the -French Alexandrine, which is the common heroic measure -of our neighbours. The Alexandrine in every second<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -stanza of Spenser is without it, and the effect is very bad, -as may be seen from the following examples:—</p> - -<p class="noindent pad1 fs85" lang="enm" xml:lang="enm"> -“So shall wrath, jealousy, grief, love, die and decay.”<br /> -“You shame-faced are but Shame-facedness itself is she.”<br /> -“Save an old nymph, hight Panope, to keep it clean.”<br /> -“Of turtle doves, she sitting in an ivory chaire.”<br /> -“And so had left them languishing ’twixt hope and feare.”<br /> -“Excludes from faire hope withouten further triall.”<br /> -“All mindless of the golden fleece which made them strive.”<br /> -“The other back retired, and contrary trode.”<br /> -“With which it blessed concord hath together tied.”<br /> -“Did waite about it, gaping griesly, all begor’d.”<br /> -“Yet spake she seldome, but thought more the less she said.”<br /> -“But of her love to lavish, little have she thank.”<br /> -“And unto better fortune doth herself prepare.”<br /> -“Fails of her souse, and passing by doth hurt no more.”<br /> -“Forgetful of his safety hath his right way lost.”<br /> -“But with entire affection, and appearance plaine.”<br /> -“Great liking unto many, but true love to few.”<br /> -“Into most deadly danger and distressed plight.”<br /> -“Whilst loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime.”<br /> -“They have him taken captive, tho’ it grieve him sore.”<br /> -“So kept she them in order, and herself in hand.”<br /> -“’Mongst which crept the little angels through the glittering gleames.”<br /> -“And thereout sucking venom to her parts intire.”<br /> -“Ease after war, death after life, does greatly please.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Admitting the richness and fertility of Spenser’s fancy, -I cannot find that he has depth, originality, or brilliancy -of thought to compensate for a roughness, which is -amazing by the side of Shakspeare’s exquisite versification, -or to justify the high opinion expressed by Wordsworth. -Compare Spenser’s Description of Lucifer’s Palace, -commencing</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">“A stately palace built of squared brick,</p> -<p class="verse">“Which cunningly was without mortar laid”</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">with Milton’s Pandemonium!</p> - -<p>Superadded to Spenser’s roughness, which the antique<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -style affected by him in some degree palliates, are very -frequent imperfect rhymes and slovenly repetitions of the -same identical metrical sounds, as <em>plain</em>, <em>plane</em>, and <em>complain</em>, -<em>see</em> and <em>sea</em>, rhyming in the same stanza—liberties -which now are utterly inadmissible. It is very true -that the recurrence of four lines which rhyme together -and of three lines which likewise rhyme with each other in -each stanza makes the Spenserian stanza in a long poem -extraordinarily difficult, without an occasional manifestation -of these defects; but the exigencies of modern criticism, -I think justly, require that the difficulty be overcome. -And a portion, doubtless, of the superiority of modern -English to modern French and Italian poetry arises from -explosion of imperfect rhymes. If the poets of these -days are degenerate in grasp of thought, they are at least -superior to their predecessors and to their continental -contemporaries in the mechanism of their art.</p> - -<p>Having said thus much of the stanza which I have -chosen, I shall add that, rejecting classical conformity -in all those matters wherein I conceive the advanced spirit -of the age to demand modern treatment, I have availed -myself largely of classical allusion, and to a certain extent -of classical imagery, to impart interest to a subject which -might otherwise smell too much of “villanous saltpetre,” -and have in some cases adhered more closely to true -classical nomenclature than has hitherto been the custom. -I regard it as one of the advantages of the acuteness of -modern scholarship to have cleared away much rubbish -and removed many an excrescence. But the Grecian may -unhappily descend into the Græculist, and by adopting -too much spoil every thing. Thus I conceive no good -effect to be produced by writing the name Pisistratus in -a serious work “Peisistratus,” and I would not imitate in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -modern poetry Homer’s not at all ignobly meant comparison -of Aias (Ajax) to an ass any more than I would adopt the -word <em>hog</em> as applied to Achilles: <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ὅγ’ ὣς εἰπὼν</span> “he thus -speaking”—“<em>Hog</em> thus speaking” would be rather offensive -to English ears. Neither would I write “Klutaimnestra” -for Clytemnestra, “Loukas” for Luke, “Dabid” for -David, or “Eua” for our first mother. In matters of taste, -like these, above all things we must observe the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">modus in -rebus</i>. Quintilian, a master in all that relates to elegance -of speech, explains very well that such things must be regulated -by feeling. Speaking of the beauty of one of the -smallest of particles in a passage of Cicero, he says: “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Cur -<em>hosce</em> potiùs quàm <em>hos</em>? Rationem fortassè non reddam; -sentiam esse melius,</span>” <cite>Instit.</cite> ix. 4. “Aias” I would at -once reclaim from the vulgar tyranny of “Ajax,” which, as -we pronounce it, scarcely differs from <em>a jakes</em>. This pronunciation, -be it observed, is purely British and German, for -it is nearly certain that the Latins pronounced the word -which they spelt <em>Ajax</em> quite like the Greek <em>Aias</em>, <em>Ajax</em> -being pronounced <em>Aias</em> in nearly all the languages of -Southern Europe at this day. In this poem, accordingly, -I spell the name “Aias.” In the same way I restore the -ancient and true spelling of the name “Leonides.” (Herod. -lib. vii. <em>passim.</em> Thucyd. i, 132.) Achilles I would retain -because more musical than “Achilleus;” but I would -expunge the word “Hectoring” from our language, as -originating in disgraceful ignorance, because so far from -being a bully, Hector was a hero of the noblest and most -amiable character, and is so described by Homer. Helen -thus apostrophizes his dead body:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἕκτωρ, ἐμῷ θυμῷ δαέρων πολὺ φίλτατε πάντων, * *</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλ’ οὔπω σεῦ ἄκουσα κακὸν ἔπος, οὐδ’ ἀσύφηλον·</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλ’ εἴτις με καὶ ἄλλος ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐνίπτοι,</p> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">* * σὺ τόνγ’ ἐπέεσσι παραιφάμενος κατέρυκες,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Σῇ τ’ ἀγανοφροσύνῃ, καὶ σοῖς ἀγανοῖς ἐπέεσσι.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Iliad.</cite> xxiv. 762.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Hector, to my soul far dearest of all my brothers-in-law! -Never from you have I heard a bad or contumelious -word; but if any other in all the household -reproached me, you with admonishing voice restrained -him—with your bland humanity and gentle words.” Yet -with gross and disgusting ignorance this high-souled hero -is thus slaughtered in all our dictionaries:—</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Hector</span>—a bully, a blustering, turbulent, noisy -fellow!!”</p> - -<p>I have adopted the Homeric names in preference to -the common Latin forms, as Aphrodité instead of Venus, -Atrides for Menelaüs (where so substituted in the original) -for the same reasons which have influenced Archdeacon -Williams in the spirited prose translations which accompany -his learned Essay, “<cite>Homerus</cite>,” Mr. Guest of Caius -College, Cambridge, in the specimen of translation of the -first book of Homer into hexameters which is introduced -into his ingenious <cite>History of English Rhythms</cite>, the -Translator of Homer in the late numbers of <cite>Blackwood’s -Magazine</cite>, and the learned Voss in his hexametrical German -version. I have chosen the name Paris, however, -in place of Alexander, for the sake of clearness and appropriateness -in the allusion, and to avoid confusion with the -better-known hero of that name. I do not know that it -is necessary to extend my poetical confessions on this -subject further. But I shall just add that in pronunciation -I have adhered to classical quantity, wherever it could -be done without a sacrifice of beauty, but have unhesitatingly -departed from it in such cases as that of the word -“Hyperion,” in which Shakspeare has fixed the accent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -on the antepenultimate, with so fine an effect in the way -of improvement on the (to merely English ears) intolerable -“Hyperíon” which is of classical <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">rigueur</i>, as to have -induced the otherwise uncompromising Cooke, translator of -Hesiod, to follow his too sweetly sinning example. I hope -I shall not be exorcised for thus erring with Shakspeare.</p> - -<p>The best image that I can offer of the Græculist carver -of cherry-stones is such a realization of Buridan’s ass suspended -between two rival and opposite bundles of hay, as -might be presented by a bad concocter of College exercises, -puzzled in an address to Prometheus to choose between the -heptasyllabic form “Iapetionides” and the tetrasyllabic -“Japetides,” to commence his puling hexameter!</p> - -<p>The earliest military expedition into Spain, of which -there is mention amongst ancient poets or doubt amongst -historians, is that of Hercules, amongst whose twelve -labours is recorded his victory over Geryon and obtaining -possession of his crown. Geryon, the son of Crysaör, was -King of the Balearic Isles, and hence by poetical fiction he -was endowed with three bodies, and is commonly called -<em>tricorpor</em>, <em>triplex</em>, or <em>tergeminus</em>, and sometimes <cite>Pastor -Iberus</cite>. Virgil describes Hercules proceeding to the -conquest of Cacus from that of Geryon thus:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse10" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——Nam maximus ultor,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Tergemini nece Geryonis spoliisque superbus,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Alcides aderat, taurosque huc victor agebat</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ingentes: vallemque boves amnemque tenebant.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Æn.</cite> viii. 201.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">Of these Cacus stole four of the finest, and though he -ingeniously dragged them by the tails, was the cause of -his own destruction. And that was not the first time -that meddling with Spanish affairs was fatal to a foreign -robber! Horace likewise alludes to this expedition of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -Hercules, in compliment to Augustus (<cite>Carm.</cite> iii. 14), -where he compares the victorious return of the Roman -from Iberia to that of Hercules—“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Herculis ritu.</span>” The -first authenticated occupation of the country was by the -Phœnicians, who colonized it extensively, but according to -their usual practice endeavoured long to keep their discovery -secret. The name of the country “<em>Span</em>” in the -Phœnician signifies “a mystery.” The rivalry between -Rome and Carthage brought the Romans subsequently -to the Peninsula, and Spain since that period has played a -great part in the history of the world.</p> - -<p>The warlike character of the ancient Spaniards is attested -by a variety of circumstances; by the terrific struggle -which they maintained against the overwhelming power of -Rome, by their determined and unflinching resistance to -Hannibal as well as Scipio, by such desperately sustained -sieges as those of Saguntum and Numantia, by the complimentary -allusions to their valour with which the Latin -poets abound, and not least by the reputation of their ancient -armour, which was in the highest esteem at Rome in the -days of Julius and Augustus Cæsar. Thus, when Horace -addresses Iccius on his change of the study of Philosophy -for a military life, he twits him with having promised -better things than to exchange his splendid library for -Iberian cuirasses:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Cùm tu coëmptos undique nobiles</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Libros Panæti, Socraticam et domum</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Mutare loricis Iberis,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pollicitus meliora, tendis?</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Carm.</cite> i. 29.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>The metallurgic fame of Spain covers a period of -nearly two score centuries. It is attested by Hudibras -and Horace, by Le Sage and Pliny:—“Iron ores are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -almost everywhere found ... there is a variety of different -species ... and great difference in the forges. But the -greatest difference of all is the water, into which it is -plunged when red-hot. This glory of her iron has ennobled -certain places, as Bilbilis in Spain,” <em>lib.</em> xxxiv. <em>cap.</em> -14. Pliny here alludes to the town now known as Bilbao, -which retained its reputation for sword-blades, like Toledo, -down to a recent period. He speaks of it as a city in Tarracon -or Cantabria, corresponding with the Basque Provinces -of which Bilbao is one of the chief towns. How strange -that, after the lapse of seventeen centuries, representatives -from this very Bilbao should have accompanied the Asturian -Deputies to England to solicit a subsidy of arms from the -descendants of those who were such utter barbarians, when -the cuirasses of Cantabria were eagerly sought after by the -nobles of Imperial Rome!</p> - -<p>The Greeks called Italy “Hesperia,” because it was -situated to the west of them, and the Romans called Spain -“Hesperia” equally, because it was to the west of Italy. -But the Latin poets, imitating the Greeks, very frequently -call Italy “Hesperia” also. Thus Virgil:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Est locus, Hesperiam Graii cognomine dicunt.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Æn.</cite> i. 534.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">Macrobius prefers deriving the origin of the name, as applied -to Italy, from its western situation, to the fact of its being -chosen by Hesperus for his residence, when he was expelled -by his brother Atlas: “Italy is called Hesperia, because -it lies to the west.” (Macrob. <cite>Saturn.</cite> lib. i. cap. 3.)</p> - -<p>Horace, when he applies the name to Spain, distinguishes -the latter country by the addition of the word “ultima,” -thus:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Qui nunc Hesperiâ sospes ab ultimâ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Caris multa sodalibus, &c.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Carm.</cite> i. 36.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">Strabo, lib. i. seems to derive the name from situation, -where he describes the Spaniards as the most western -nation, “<span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">μάλιστα ἑσπέριοι.</span>” And both he and Pliny state -that Hispania was likewise called Iberia, either from a king -of that name or from the river Iberus (Ebro).</p> - -<p>Iberia, though the name by which, after Hispania, -Spain was most commonly known to the Latins was, by a -confusion not very complimentary to their geographical -accuracy, likewise the name of a region in Asia Minor. -It was a tract in Pontus separated from Colchis by the -Moschic mountains, and corresponds with the modern -Georgia:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Herbasque, quas Iolcos atque Iberia</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Mittit venenorum ferax.</p> -<p class="verse16">Horat. <cite>Epod.</cite> 5.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>The names “Hesperia” and “Iberia” are found together -in the same stanza of Camóens as applied to the Peninsula, -yet with some vague attempt to confine the latter name to -the Spanish portion exclusively:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">“Nome em armas ditoso, em noss’ Hesperia,</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">*<span class="pad2">*</span><span class="pad2">*</span><span class="pad2">*</span><span class="pad2">*</span></p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Se não quizera ir ver a terra Iberia.”</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Lus.</cite> iv. 54.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">Both names are properly applicable to the entire Peninsula, -including Spain and Portugal, the second epithet, modified -by the prefix <em>Celto</em> into “Celtiberia,” being the ancient -name of Aragon and Catalonia, and Iliberia that of -Granada. The name Iberia as applied to Spain is found -in Virgil, <cite>Æn.</cite> ix. 582:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pictus acu chlamydem, et ferrugine clarus Iberâ,</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">and under this name the country is described elaborately by -Avienus (P. C. 380).</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Quamque suis opibus cumulavit Iberia dives, &c.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">Ausonius (also P. C. 380) makes use of both the names -“Hispania” and “Iberia:”</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">His Hispanus ager tellus ubi dives Iberum.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">Juvenal (P. C. 120) uses the name “Hispania” as the -distinctive appellation of the country, which became better -and more perilously known in his time than in the days -of Horace and Virgil:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Horrida vitanda est Hispania.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Sat.</cite> viii. 116.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>There is classical authority for a happy variety of names -in describing Spain—“Hesperia,” “Iberia,” “Hispania:”</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Tum sibi Callaïco Brutus cognomen in hoste</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Fecit, et Hispanam sanguine tinxit humum.</p> -<p class="verse16">Ov. <cite>Fast.</cite> vi. 461.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Herculis ritu, modò dictus, ô plebs,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Morte venalem petiisse laurum</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Cæsar, Hispanâ repetit Penates</p> -<p class="verse12" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Victor ab orâ</p> -<p class="verse16">Horat. <cite>Carm.</cite> iii. 14.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">Spain was anciently divided into Hispania <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ulterior</i> and -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Citerior</i>. The former comprehended Bætica, the present -Andalucía, and Lusitania nearly corresponding to what is -now called Portugal. Hispania Citerior comprised all the -rest of the Peninsula. The name “Hesperia” was more -commonly applied by the ancient poets to the Italian -Peninsula than to the Spanish. Thus Virgil (in addition -to the passage above cited):</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Et sæpe Hesperiam, sæpe Itala regna vocare. * *</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sed quis ad Hesperiæ venturos littora Teucros</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Crederet?</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Æn.</cite> iii. 185.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">The preponderance of authority is clearly in favour of -designating Spain as “Iberia” or “Hispania,” and generally -confining “Hesperia” to Italy. Ovid has a very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -charming nymph named Hesperie, no connection, however, -of the Hesperides, of whom the most famous was that -Arethusa whose fountain-streamlet is so celebrated, and -whose enchanting name has been tastefully introduced into -the nomenclature of the British Navy. Ovid’s Hesperie, -the daughter of Cebrenis, was loved and persecuted by the -Trojan hero Æsacos, whose discovery of her is thus exquisitely -described:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Aspicit Hesperien patriâ Cebrenida ripâ,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Injectos humeris siccantem sole capillos.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Visa fugit Nymphe!</p> -<p class="verse16">Ov. <cite>Met.</cite> xi. 769.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">A very amusing and somewhat malicious mistake was -recently witnessed at one of our English Universities. A -prize was offered for a composition on “<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Hesperiæ mala -luctuosæ</i>.” Spain was manifestly intended. But the wags -spreading all manner of doubts and difficulties, the “Dons” -were obliged to come out with a public notice, intimating -that “the gentlemen had better confine themselves to the -Spanish Peninsula!”</p> - -<p>Cantabria, which is the scene of this poem, was likewise -the scene of some of Augustus’s victories. His policy -seems to have been here as successful as his generalship. -“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Domuit autem, partim ductu, partim auspiciis suis Cantabriam.</span>” -(Sueton. <em>cap.</em> 20.) But the Cantabrians, then as -now unformed for subjugation, rebelled again the moment -Augustus returned to Rome. Augustus, however, paid -them a second visit, and appears to have quieted them in -Roman fashion, this being the last of his warlike exploits: -“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Hic finis Augusto bellicorum certaminum fuit: idem -rebellandi finis Hispaniæ.</span>” (Luc. Flor. <em>lib.</em> iv. c. 12.)</p> - -<p>It was the proud distinction of the Cantabrian in the -ancient world to be indomitable, a character very significantly -assigned to him in Horace’s well known line:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Cantabrum indoctum juga ferre nostra.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Carm.</cite> ii. 6.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">In a later ode Horace commemorates the subjugation of -the Cantabrians, but it was only momentary, and the difficulty -with which it was effected is acknowledged by the -poet himself:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Servit Hispanæ vetus hostis oræ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Cantaber, serâ domitus catenâ.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">These are splendid tributes to the valour which resisted -the then irresistible Roman power. The Cantabrian -strength was broken, and they were temporarily subjected -by Agrippa (Sueton. <cite>Octav.</cite> c. 20), but it was only to rise -again the moment they had recovered their shattered -forces.</p> - -<p>Cantabria corresponded (as already observed) with the -modern Basque Provinces, and gave with the neighbouring -Asturia more trouble to the Romans than all the rest -of Spain, the mountainous character of the country aiding -them in that resistance to which they were prompted -by the hardy mountaineer’s character, and by his inherent -love of</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty!</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">“Two most powerful nations (says Florus, lib. iv. cap. 12), -the Cantabri and the Astures, were still free from the -Imperial sway. The determination of the Cantabrians was -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">pejor</i> (so the proud Roman calls it) and loftier, and more -pertinacious in rebellion, for not content with defending -their own liberty, they sought even to control their neighbours.... -Beaten at last, they retired to the lofty mountain -Vinnius, to which they deemed that the Ocean would -ascend before the Roman arms.... But he in person -drew them from these mountains, and reduced them beneath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -the crown by right of war.” Florus is here describing the -last expedition against the Cantabrians in the reign of Augustus, -of which Agrippa was commander. Suetonius -gives the same narrative in substance in <cite>Octav. cap.</cite> xx., -and Strabo, <em>lib.</em> iii. Silius Italicus pays even a still -greater tribute to the indomitable spirit of the Cantabrians:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Cantaber ante omnes hyemisque, æstusque, famisque</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Invictus.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>Horace in that variety of refined flattery, with whose -incense he knew how to intoxicate Augustus, returns frequently -to his Cantabrian wars, and while his object is to -praise the Roman pays unceasing tributes to Spanish -valour. Thus:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Te Cantaber non antè domabilis</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Miratur, ô tutela præsens</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Italiæ dominæque Romæ!</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Carm.</cite> iv. 14.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">Again, commemorating the triumph of Agrippa under Augustus, -in the year U. C. 733:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Cantaber Agrippæ, Claudî virtute Neronis</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Armenius cecidit.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Epist.</cite> i. 12.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">Agrippa was not the only one of Augustus’s generals, who -was despatched to the conquest of Cantabria, and with -dubious success. Lucius Æmilius had before failed in the -attempt.</p> - -<p>It is curious enough that the Britons, the Gauls, and the -Spaniards are alluded to by name, and in the exact order -of their greatness, in three successive lines of an ode of -Horace:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Te belluosus qui remotis</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Obstrepit Oceanus Britannis,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Te non paventis funera Galliæ,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Duræque tellus audit Iberiæ.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Carm.</cite> iv. 14.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">Singular approximation of nations whose struggles in the -Peninsular War were to make so famous near twenty centuries -later!</p> - -<p>In the Peninsula I do not expect much appreciation, -where even amongst those who palaver English, English -poetry is not at all understood, and where once a littérateur, -expressing his sham admiration of Shakspeare, spoke to me -of “<em>Macabets</em> as one progidy of a tradegy!” I am not -prepared to sacrifice to an ambition which nothing but -undue praise could conciliate, and I shall be satisfied with -the approval of my own countrymen, if I can only have the -good fortune to secure it.</p> - -<p class="p4" /> -<p class="fs85"><em>Corunna, September, 1846.</em></p> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p6" /> -<p class="pfs180 lsp">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<p class="pfs120 antiqua">A Poem.</p> - -<p class="p1 pfs120">IN TWELVE CANTOS.</p> -<p class="p6" /> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span><br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto I.</h2> - - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">On San Sebastian’s towering castle wall,</p> -<p class="verse2">What fiery meteor crowns the brow of night?</p> -<p class="verse2">Its gathering splendour glows majestical</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst darkling skies—a diadem of light!</p> -<p class="verse2">It grows amain upon the dazzled sight,</p> -<p class="verse2">While to their posts the amazed besiegers run;</p> -<p class="verse2">The eternal stars an instant beam less bright,</p> -<p class="verse2">As startled by another burning sun,</p> -<p class="verse">Which now distincter bears the name “Napoléon!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">For Gaul’s imperial master shines that flame,</p> -<p class="verse2">And quivering flouts the Angliberian host;</p> -<p class="verse2">Effulgent skies enthrone his mighty name—</p> -<p class="verse2">His fortress stands impregnable, the boast!</p> -<p class="verse2">This, this his birthday, this the fearless post</p> -<p class="verse2">Where England’s strength shall fail again, again,</p> -<p class="verse2">For warriors fresh have poured along the coast;</p> -<p class="verse2">And though the siege hath cost a thousand men,</p> -<p class="verse">No hostile foot shall dare profane that lion’s den!</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur smiled, and calm the work went on;</p> -<p class="verse2">Bartolomeo’s heights were strengthened well,</p> -<p class="verse2">The trenches deepened ere the night was gone;</p> -<p class="verse2">Antigua’s rocks with thunder bristling tell</p> -<p class="verse2">The bold besieged how other bosoms swell</p> -<p class="verse2">With warlike pride that pants for battle’s hour;</p> -<p class="verse2">And comes the ponderous train of cannon fell</p> -<p class="verse2">To try the strength of bastion, scarp, and tower,</p> -<p class="verse">And bid the boastful Gaul beware Britannia’s power!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Say, is, not death then terrible enough,</p> -<p class="verse2">Ye Captains fierce, but ye must point his dart?</p> -<p class="verse2">Is man not made of perishable stuff,</p> -<p class="verse2">But ye must wing new shafts to pierce his heart?</p> -<p class="verse2">Say, is not famine, pestilence, the smart</p> -<p class="verse2">Of dire disease and suffering, toil and wo</p> -<p class="verse2">Enough, but Nature’s pangs must be by Art</p> -<p class="verse2">Deep multiplied till tears like Ocean flow,</p> -<p class="verse">And shattering death-bolts fly, lest Death arrive too slow?</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Genius of Liberty, inspire my song!</p> -<p class="verse2">For thou alone canst consecrate the strife,</p> -<p class="verse2">That bids surcease the despot sway of Wrong,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Man prefer thy dignity to Life</p> -<p class="verse2">Without thee,—War proclaiming “to the knife”</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst Tyrants. May the strain I feebly raise,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like the Caÿstrian bird’s with death-notes rife,</p> -<p class="verse2">Tune every human organ to thy praise,</p> -<p class="verse">And curb War’s eagles, save to blast Oppression’s gaze!</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">On Mont’ Orgullo Mota’s fortress-crown</p> -<p class="verse2">Seems like defiant Pride from high to smile,</p> -<p class="verse2">Poised on her lofty cone, while far adown</p> -<p class="verse2">Blue Ocean bathes her feet and guards the while;</p> -<p class="verse2">And southward Santa Clara’s rocky isle</p> -<p class="verse2">Stands like a Cyclop to defend the wall.</p> -<p class="verse2">War’s stern munitions heaped in many a pile</p> -<p class="verse2">The ramparts strew, prepared the foe to gall—</p> -<p class="verse">Yet deeply now ’tis sworn, shall San Sebastian fall!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The Chofre hills with giant carronades</p> -<p class="verse2">Are horror-crested. Far on either side</p> -<p class="verse2">Swift Uruméa, while the twilight fades,</p> -<p class="verse2">Are armed the enormous batteries deep and wide.</p> -<p class="verse2">And opens now like thunder to deride</p> -<p class="verse2">Yon beacon light the loud artillery’s roar,</p> -<p class="verse2">With fire and smoke that seem to Hell allied,</p> -<p class="verse2">Makes wall and castle reel and tremble sore,</p> -<p class="verse">And shakes the affrighted wave that foams along the shore!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Dire straits of War! The crystal stream of Life</p> -<p class="verse2">Is now cut off from San Sebastian’s ground;</p> -<p class="verse2">Where water flowed, an aliment of strife</p> -<p class="verse2">The withering Genius of Destruction found.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, fatal skill! Sulphureous heaps abound</p> -<p class="verse2">Within the tube that from Ernani’s hills</p> -<p class="verse2">Brought Life, yet soon will scatter Death around.</p> -<p class="verse2">Though lymph, Pyrene, all thy crags distil,</p> -<p class="verse">For San Sebastian vain is every mountain rill.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But, hark the voice of cannon from within!</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis raised in joy, a Royal salvo peals.</p> -<p class="verse2">What new discovery marks that potent din,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which speaks in thunder that the assailant feels—</p> -<p class="verse2">Bolts with each flash? For joy the Norman kneels.</p> -<p class="verse2">Where Mota’s rock above the wave doth frown,</p> -<p class="verse2">A living fount its bubbling stream reveals,</p> -<p class="verse2">More prized than diámonds on Regal crown.</p> -<p class="verse">The stream is hoarded well—its flow supplies the town.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A moment pause the batteries now, while flag</p> -<p class="verse2">Of truce and summons of surrender due</p> -<p class="verse2">Approach the wall, nor long before it lag,</p> -<p class="verse2">For soon in Rey a noble foeman knew</p> -<p class="verse2">The English arms as he in England too.</p> -<p class="verse2">No paltering there! Redoubled every post;</p> -<p class="verse2">More resolute his wing’d defiance flew,</p> -<p class="verse2">In fiery tempest ’gainst the leaguering host;</p> -<p class="verse">And scorning even to read the summons was his boast.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Well answered! Where the river widest swells</p> -<p class="verse2">’Neath rapid Ocean’s amorous embrace,</p> -<p class="verse2">And on the Siérra swung the Convent bells</p> -<p class="verse2">For matin-lauds and vesper-song of grace,</p> -<p class="verse2">The howitzer ascends that holy place,</p> -<p class="verse2">And from the belfry vomits forth its fire;</p> -<p class="verse2">From cloisters dim whose cowls the shakos chase</p> -<p class="verse2">The stabled charger bids the monk retire,</p> -<p class="verse">And tell his beads apart till pass War’s tempest dire.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now Mont’ Orgullo vaunting Pride doth shew</p> -<p class="verse2">Less proudly throned, for climb Olía’s side</p> -<p class="verse2">The straining oxen, dragging upward slow,</p> -<p class="verse2">With starting eye-ball and hoof opening wide,</p> -<p class="verse2">Cannon and mortar o’er the foaming tide</p> -<p class="verse2">Terrific hung. And Man the work completes,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where fail the labouring beasts, till e’en Mount Pride</p> -<p class="verse2">O’ercrested now from far defiance meets;</p> -<p class="verse">And from the Miradór who gazeth slaughter greets!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The booming salvo hurls its ceaseless shower,</p> -<p class="verse2">Saint John’s huge bastion slowly crumbling falls,</p> -<p class="verse2">Destruction seizes many a stately tower,</p> -<p class="verse2">And totter to their base Tirynthian walls</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath the fury of resistless balls,</p> -<p class="verse2">From circling orchards heaved by Britain’s sons;</p> -<p class="verse2">And snake-like trench advancing swift appals</p> -<p class="verse2">The garrison, as o’er the isthmus runs</p> -<p class="verse">The deadly sapper’s stroke that like an earthquake stuns.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And sally forth the warlike sons of France,</p> -<p class="verse2">As prisoned lions vainly lash the bar,</p> -<p class="verse2">To foil the miner in his bold advance,</p> -<p class="verse2">And rages on the isthmus fiercest war;</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many a shrapnell shell doth strew afar</p> -<p class="verse2">Its withering shower of lead in thickest hail.</p> -<p class="verse2">But what can like the British bayonet mar</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy prowess, France? Before ’t the sallyers quail,</p> -<p class="verse">And fly like scattered hawks flung headlong on the gale.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">With glancing steel upon the trenches’ edge</p> -<p class="verse2">Confronted Cameron the advancing host;</p> -<p class="verse2">And swift retired before that gleaming wedge</p> -<p class="verse2">The light-limbed chasseur, battling Gallia’s boast.</p> -<p class="verse2">And, rough fascine and earth-piled gabion most</p> -<p class="verse2">The ground demanding, rose the isthmus o’er</p> -<p class="verse2">Banquette and parapet, the foremost post</p> -<p class="verse2">Of war for those who sap and mine explore,</p> -<p class="verse">And lithe artilleryman and lynx-eyed caçadore.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And now the isthmus boasts its battery too;</p> -<p class="verse2">At shortest range ’tis thundering ’gainst the wall.</p> -<p class="verse2">Saint John protect thy bastion, or ’twill rue;</p> -<p class="verse2">Sebastian, guard thy castle, or ’twill fall!</p> -<p class="verse2">And lo, where shells ascending vertical,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like iron disc by surest player cast,</p> -<p class="verse2">Unerring light the townsmen to appal,</p> -<p class="verse2">And, scattering hundred deaths, with ruin blast</p> -<p class="verse">The region doomed where’er that tempest dire hath past.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">See many a bark that swan-like floats the tide</p> -<p class="verse2">Steal rapid round the fair Cantabrian shore.</p> -<p class="verse2">Daughters of luxury, your frail heads hide!</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis women’s arms that ply the lusty oar</p> -<p class="verse2">That hostile castle’s bristling wall before.</p> -<p class="verse2">A patriot impulse bids them proudly dare</p> -<p class="verse2">(Was never seen the like!) the batteries’ roar,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their fruits and wine with the besiegers share,</p> -<p class="verse">And bless the arms upraised to guard Iberia fair!</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Isaro’s sunlit isle her dark-eyed maids</p> -<p class="verse2">Sends laden with the grape’s delicious bloom;</p> -<p class="verse2">Guerníca from its close embowering shades</p> -<p class="verse2">Sends clustered muscatel whose globes illume</p> -<p class="verse2">Bright tints of amber. Ondarróa’s gloom</p> -<p class="verse2">Of archéd boughs gives golden apples forth,</p> -<p class="verse2">Fair as on Hesperus’ dragon drew the doom;</p> -<p class="verse2">Ripe Ceres’ gifts of Deba prove the worth;</p> -<p class="verse">And bland Zumaya opes her garden of the north.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Brown nuts and almonds from Cestona’s groves,</p> -<p class="verse2">Soft melons come from Castro’s silvery streams;</p> -<p class="verse2">The small black olive that the mountain loves</p> -<p class="verse2">From Orrio’s hills ’mid peach and nectarine gleams.</p> -<p class="verse2">Palencia sends her wine which most esteems</p> -<p class="verse2">The midnight watcher on the tented field,</p> -<p class="verse2">With blissful thoughts to stimulate his dreams</p> -<p class="verse2">When, the watch ended, soon his eyes are sealed</p> -<p class="verse">By Heaven’s physician, sleep, and all his sorrows healed.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Berméo’s vines of green most tender send</p> -<p class="verse2">Black clusters soft with purple bloom bespread;</p> -<p class="verse2">And where her gnarled and twisted fig-trees bend</p> -<p class="verse2">’Neath load of luscious fruit their dark green head,</p> -<p class="verse2">The gathered treasure for a feast is shed.</p> -<p class="verse2">The quince sweet-flavoured, and the juicy gourd,</p> -<p class="verse2">The beautiful love-apple coral-red,</p> -<p class="verse2">And curd-white cheese (an Arcady restored)</p> -<p class="verse">For Valour’s sons they bring to spread the ambrosial board.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Bright-eyed Biscayan maids, as shapely tall</p> -<p class="verse2">As Atlas’ daughter in her sun-lit isle</p> -<p class="verse2">Led in the dance through flowery vale and knoll,</p> -<p class="verse2">Mother of streams while Tethys fair the while</p> -<p class="verse2">The chorus blest with an approving smile.</p> -<p class="verse2">The lively movements of the Vascon race,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Tartar glance, the ringing laugh where guile</p> -<p class="verse2">Ne’er enters, brown yet blooming charms of face,</p> -<p class="verse">And teeth of dazzling lustre lend uncommon grace.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Their hair dark shining shamed the raven’s wing,</p> -<p class="verse2">In tresses long their shoulders floating down,</p> -<p class="verse2">With ribands gay confined or silken string,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or slight embroidered veil the head to crown.</p> -<p class="verse2">Of gold and pearl some covet the renown,</p> -<p class="verse2">Pendent from prettiest ears; with coral some</p> -<p class="verse2">Their necks encircle. Camisoles each gown</p> -<p class="verse2">Surmount, gallooned with silk or silver from</p> -<p class="verse">Shoulder to waist so fair that Envy’s self is dumb.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">’Twas thus the Basque barqueras, happiest race,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like their Cantabrian mothers rowed along;</p> -<p class="verse2">A nymph-republic from whose dwelling-place</p> -<p class="verse2">Both man and dame excludes the Nereid throng,</p> -<p class="verse2">True to their Ocean-sire, as Dian strong.</p> -<p class="verse2">Two row each bark, and one Dorina steers</p> -<p class="verse2">’Neath fluttering banderoles, and oft with song</p> -<p class="verse2">They tune their oars, or dance with merry cheers</p> -<p class="verse">Zorcícos, while Basque drum and timbrel greet the ears.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And oft, through summertide, some sheltered cove</p> -<p class="verse2">On fair Biscaya’s coast these Nereids sought</p> -<p class="verse2">To cool their lovely limbs, while far above</p> -<p class="verse2">A sister-sentinel their safety wrought,</p> -<p class="verse2">With eyes whose jealousy was still uncaught.</p> -<p class="verse2">And through the crystal waters joyously</p> -<p class="verse2">Spinning, like ivory, charms surpassing thought,</p> -<p class="verse2">They plunged and sported, laughing wild with glee,</p> -<p class="verse">And swam with matchless skill—their element the sea.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And, robed again, full oft the Nymphs advanced</p> -<p class="verse2">’Neath dewy eve in beauteous double file,</p> -<p class="verse2">And boundingly the gay Zorcíco danced,</p> -<p class="verse2">With shouldered oars and frolic feet, the while</p> -<p class="verse2">Basque drum and tamborine and Ocean’s smile</p> -<p class="verse2">Make mirthful holiday. Now high they leap,</p> -<p class="verse2">With mazy figure now the sense beguile,</p> -<p class="verse2">Now cross their clattering blades as in the deep,</p> -<p class="verse">And laugh, dance, sing—methinks, ’tis better thus than weep.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Nor vigilance secures that lovely coast,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor danger’s tremulous excitements flee,</p> -<p class="verse2">For Gaul her cruisers and her arméd host</p> -<p class="verse2">From fair Santona pours along the sea;</p> -<p class="verse2">And even Columbian rovers, far too free</p> -<p class="verse2">To curb the lust of plunder, hovering there—</p> -<p class="verse2">Indifferent whether Spain’s or England’s be</p> -<p class="verse2">The rifled flag—like vultures foul prepare</p> -<p class="verse">On battle’s skirt to fall, and aidless stragglers tear.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">For years had past since great Britannia’s hand</p> -<p class="verse2">Made Earth and Ocean feel her trident stroke;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Trafalgár and San Vicente, fanned</p> -<p class="verse2">By Victory’s wing, no present terrors woke;</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor o’er the Deep her voice in thunder spoke,</p> -<p class="verse2">Since feeble councils numbed at home the arms,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which even thus paralysed Gaul’s legions broke;</p> -<p class="verse2">And but that patriot zeal the virgin warms,</p> -<p class="verse">Had Famine crushed our men more dire than War’s alarms.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Yet nought could baffle England’s Chieftain-shield,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who drove the Invader to Pyrene’s foot,</p> -<p class="verse2">With thunder-shock on many a battle-field,</p> -<p class="verse2">While Spain with aidful arm the foeman smote.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, glorious rivalship! where late each throat</p> -<p class="verse2">Was hostile grasped, now rank with rank contending,</p> -<p class="verse2">Now side by side,—the Armada’s strife forgot,</p> -<p class="verse2">Gibraltar’s griefs, Saint Vincent’s memory rending—</p> -<p class="verse">Against the general foe in War’s proud union blending.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Heroic brotherhood! Mark o’er all her soil</p> -<p class="verse2">Where Spain’s Partidas like Cadmean seed</p> -<p class="verse2">Spring armed and terrible to make War’s toil</p> -<p class="verse2">Ubiquitous, the foe unceasing bleed;</p> -<p class="verse2">Till, like bull gored and vanquished, he recede,</p> -<p class="verse2">While Mina and the Empecinado hang</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon his flanks, and give the Invader’s meed</p> -<p class="verse2">In death from every crag—where Tell-like sprang</p> -<p class="verse">The Guerrillero forth, whose loud trabúco rang.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The carcase of a rotten State may fall</p> -<p class="verse2">Corrupt asunder, life-blood e’en diseased;</p> -<p class="verse2">Head, body, members vile contagion’s thrall,</p> -<p class="verse2">By gore-stained hands Religion’s emblems seized—</p> -<p class="verse2">But Nations ne’er yet died when Tyrants pleased!</p> -<p class="verse2">Yea, lives for aye the spirit and the soul</p> -<p class="verse2">Invincible, howe’er by despots teased;</p> -<p class="verse2">And let Injustice sting, Invasion roll,</p> -<p class="verse">The sudden counter-shock will shake the distant Pole!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And quakes the stern invading Tyrant now,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose legions to the frontier back are driven;</p> -<p class="verse2">For even Pyrene’s rocky margins bow</p> -<p class="verse2">Before the giant march, with fetters riven,</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Freedom’s phalanx marshalled on by Heaven!</p> -<p class="verse2">Rey, on thine arm an Empire’s fate depends.</p> -<p class="verse2">To San Sebastian haply now is given</p> -<p class="verse2">The fortress key their swelling strength that bends.</p> -<p class="verse">France jealous eyes thee! Rey his post full well defends.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">From Guetaría see where vulture-eyed</p> -<p class="verse2">That scowling band of Franks perforce retires,</p> -<p class="verse2">And turns their chief in demon triumph joyed</p> -<p class="verse2">To mark the scene where, Gaul, thy pride expires.</p> -<p class="verse2">Sudden explode terrific blasting fires,</p> -<p class="verse2">And swift the fortress-ruins blot the skies</p> -<p class="verse2">With matrons, virgins, babes, and aged sires,</p> -<p class="verse2">Rent by the train the ruffian, as he flies,</p> -<p class="verse">Hath left alight—to fierce Revenge a sacrifice.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Shudder, thou worm that point’st thy petty sting;</p> -<p class="verse2">A breath may quench both thee and all thy line!</p> -<p class="verse2">Fly, passion, hate, ’neath Mercy’s sheltering wing—</p> -<p class="verse2">Hath not the Lord declared: “Revenge is mine?”</p> -<p class="verse2">Reptile, dost <em>Him</em> defy? Not thus will shine</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy courage when, at dissolution’s hour,</p> -<p class="verse2">The more thou scornest now the more thou’lt whine,</p> -<p class="verse2">And feel no weed that deems itself a flower</p> -<p class="verse">So mean as man who dares to brave the Almighty’s power!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">From Haya’s crest of rough and broken crag</p> -<p class="verse2">A darkling thunder-storm came grandly down.</p> -<p class="verse2">From peak to peak, while gathering rain-drops lag,</p> -<p class="verse2">The fiery demon leaps, from chasm to crown—</p> -<p class="verse2">Terrific dance!—then hides ’neath blackest frown,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose pall o’erspreads the sky; low growls at times,</p> -<p class="verse2">Then volleying roars while floods the welkin drown.</p> -<p class="verse2">Andaye took up the song of mountain-climes,</p> -<p class="verse">And Jaizquibél gave back the sound with thunder-chimes!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">San Marcial echoes it with savage pride,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Grand Monarque rebellows it with zeal.</p> -<p class="verse2">Then, when the monsters huge had shook each side</p> -<p class="verse2">With giant laughter, of which every peal</p> -<p class="verse2">Is thunder that can make the despot feel,</p> -<p class="verse2">And waked Pyrene o’er his widest span,</p> -<p class="verse2">While peak to peak replied, and torrents reel</p> -<p class="verse2">With that rejoicing music, as it ran,</p> -<p class="verse">That spake their savage strength in terror’s tones to man.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Dark muffled thus they slept. Yet even in dreams,</p> -<p class="verse2">Such dreams as mountain-spirits give to birth,</p> -<p class="verse2">The thunderous memory lives. Low muttering seems</p> -<p class="verse2">To sullen tell how baleful was that mirth,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose very faintest echo shook the earth,</p> -<p class="verse2">Gigantic! Downward gathering comes the storm</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er Haya’s flank and Oyarzuno’s girth</p> -<p class="verse2">By crag and deep ravine, till lightning warm</p> -<p class="verse">With wind and rain it falls o’er Uruméa’s form.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And ’mid the thickest of the storm behold</p> -<p class="verse2">Where scud Cantabria’s daughters through the tide,</p> -<p class="verse2">The death-rain from the rampart fronting bold,</p> -<p class="verse2">And bear to Britain’s sons, Hesperia’s pride,</p> -<p class="verse2">The tribute of support for arms allied.</p> -<p class="verse2">Now brighter beams each eye, and heroes wear</p> -<p class="verse2">Unwonted blushes warrior cheeks to hide,</p> -<p class="verse2">And feel thrice-nerved their arms by Beauty rare,</p> -<p class="verse">Their spirits bounding high: on Valour smiles the fair!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Amongst these maids the beauteous Blanca stood,</p> -<p class="verse2">Pride of the ocean-beat Biscayan coast;</p> -<p class="verse2">A laughing damsel gay yet angel-good,</p> -<p class="verse2">Light-haired, blue-eyed, in Spain no vulgar boast,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where black-eyed maidens are a countless host.</p> -<p class="verse2">With mirth so radiant was her spirit free,</p> -<p class="verse2">That all she gladdened—melting roughest frost:</p> -<p class="verse2">Like her none danced Bolera or Olé,</p> -<p class="verse">And none could featly touch the light guitar as she.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Her auburn hair in clustering curls around</p> -<p class="verse2">Her sunny face now shrouded, now revealed</p> -<p class="verse2">Its beauties, waving with each fairy bound;</p> -<p class="verse2">Her peachy cheek now glancing, now concealed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her eye the wound it gave next instant healed,</p> -<p class="verse2">So bright yet soft, so keen yet melting tender.</p> -<p class="verse2">A sweetness inexpressible made yield</p> -<p class="verse2">All hearts: ripe lips, and teeth of pearly splendour,</p> -<p class="verse">Made Nature’s task in vain another charm to lend her.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">No coif encircling bound her beauteous head,</p> -<p class="verse2">No silken net her tresses rich confined,</p> -<p class="verse2">To mar the lustre which her glances shed;</p> -<p class="verse2">But ribands plain its wild luxuriance bind.</p> -<p class="verse2">She wore no jewels: streamed upon the wind</p> -<p class="verse2">A gauzy veil, with flowers of golden sheen</p> -<p class="verse2">Embroidered, floating gracefully behind,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her only ornament—yet form and mien</p> -<p class="verse">Proclaimed her thus attired ’mongst hundred maids the queen.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Her xaquetilla, to the shape most lithe,</p> -<p class="verse2">Was of cerulean velvet, room supplying</p> -<p class="verse2">For her full bosom’s play, when free and blithe</p> -<p class="verse2">She plied the oar, yet to her form close lying,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which no compression needed, art defying.</p> -<p class="verse2">Two billows heaved within, as on the tide</p> -<p class="verse2">She mastered, with its foam in whiteness vying;</p> -<p class="verse2">And from her ears to every turn of pride</p> -<p class="verse">Two tiniest silver bells with tinklings sweet replied.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XLII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">So fair the maid in infancy had been,</p> -<p class="verse2">That San Sebastian chose her then to bear</p> -<p class="verse2">A cherub’s wings amid the festal scene</p> -<p class="verse2">Her warrior-patron’s day that honours there.</p> -<p class="verse2">And with her foster-sister not less fair,</p> -<p class="verse2">The noble Isidora, hand in hand,</p> -<p class="verse2">Oft walked she thus in childhood—beauteous pair!</p> -<p class="verse2">Though tender still their loves apart they stand,</p> -<p class="verse">For San Sebastian’s siege the approach of Blanca banned.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">She was the leader of the virgin group,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Delia of that race of shallops gay;</p> -<p class="verse2">And vigorous-handed to the oar could stoop,</p> -<p class="verse2">When gales tempestuous tost the stormy Bay.</p> -<p class="verse2">For high the spirit of that lightsome fay,</p> -<p class="verse2">And bold as Manuela’s self, the Maid</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Zaragoza, she could guide the fray,</p> -<p class="verse2">The French marauders menaced undismayed,</p> -<p class="verse">And oft her wild guitar thus prompted to the raid:—</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">The Spanish Song of Freedom.</p> - -<p class="canto">1.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Let the brave, let the brave fill the battered</p> -<p class="verse2">War-chalice, fair Freedom, to thee;</p> -<p class="verse">On the slave, on the slave be it shattered,</p> -<p class="verse2">Unless the slave pant to be free!</p> -<p class="verse">In glory, in glory we’ll perish,</p> -<p class="verse2">Ere tyrants shall wither our plains.</p> -<p class="verse">This nectar, this nectar shall cherish</p> -<p class="verse2">No dastard who spurns not his chains!</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -<p class="verse">Let the brave, let the brave fill the battered</p> -<p class="verse2">War-chalice, fair Freedom, to thee;</p> -<p class="verse">On the slave, on the slave be it shattered,</p> -<p class="verse2">Unless the slave pant to be free!</p> -<p class="verse4"><i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Libertad, libertad sacrosanta!</i></p> -<p class="verse6">Were death in the depths of the flask,</p> -<p class="verse4"><i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Libertad, libertad mi encanta</i>,</p> -<p class="verse6">We’ll drain it to “Free be the Basque!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">2.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">For our homes, for our homes and our altars,</p> -<p class="verse2">For our wives and our children we fight;</p> -<p class="verse">We but scoff at their dungeons and halters,</p> -<p class="verse2">As bursts Freedom’s sun into light!</p> -<p class="verse">While our rights, while our rights we are seeking,</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Power! ’tis thy will we maintain;</p> -<p class="verse">Though our swords, though our swords may be reeking</p> -<p class="verse2">With blood, ’tis in rending the chain!</p> -<p class="verse">Let the brave, let the brave fill the battered</p> -<p class="verse2">War-chalice, fair Freedom, to thee;</p> -<p class="verse">On the slave, on the slave be it shattered,</p> -<p class="verse2">Unless the slave pant to be free!</p> -<p class="verse4"><i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Libertad, libertad sacrosanta!</i></p> -<p class="verse6">Were death in the goblet we drain,</p> -<p class="verse4"><i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Libertad los tiranos espanta</i>,</p> -<p class="verse6">We’ll pledge to the freedom of Spain!</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO I.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">In August, 1813, as the preparations for the renewed siege of San -Sebastian were advancing, the besieged demonstrated their confidence -by celebrating the Emperor’s birthday with a splendid illumination. -The castle, upon whose crest it was exhibited, is seen -from a great distance; and the besiegers could plainly read the -letters of fire in which the name of Napoléon was written -high in air.</p> - -<p>The incidents of the siege I have derived chiefly from Napier’s -<cite>History of the War in the Peninsula</cite>, book xxii. chapters 1 and 2, -and from Jones’s <cite>Journals of Peninsular Sieges</cite>. The topography -of San Sebastian will be found sufficiently illustrated in either of -those works.</p> - -<p>The small castle of La Mota is most picturesquely situated like a -crown on the conical hill of Monte Orgullo, which rising immediately -behind the town westward, is nearly four hundred feet -high, and washed by the sea. “The Hill has a broad base of 400 -by 600 feet, and is crowned by fort La Mota.” Jones, <cite>Journal of -Peninsular Sieges</cite>, vol. ii.</p> - -<p>General Jones’s description of cutting off the aqueduct, and -converting it into a globe of compression, is thus prosaic but -practical and deadly:—“The parallel crost a drain level with the -ground, 4 feet high, and 3 feet wide, through which ran a pipe to -convey water into the town. Lieut. Reid ventured to explore it, and -at the end of 230 yards, he found it closed by a door in the counterscarp, -opposite to the face of the right demi-bastion of the -hornwork: as the ditch was narrow, it was thought that by forming -a mine, the explosion would throw earth sufficient against the -escarpe, only 24 feet high, to form a road over it: eight feet at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -end of the aqueduct was therefore stopped with filled sand bags, -and 30 barrels of powder of 90 lb. each, lodged against it, and a -saucisson led to the mouth of the drain.” <cite>Journals of the Sieges -undertaken by the Allies in Spain</cite>, Supplementary Chapter. The -aqueduct had been cut off at the commencement of the siege by -the Spanish general, Mendizabal. “It was formed into a globe of -compression designed to blow, as through a tube, so much rubbish -over the counterscarp as might fill the narrow ditch.” Napier, <cite>Hist.</cite> -book xxi. c. 3. This plan was subsequently realized, and with -complete success, “creating” says Jones “much astonishment in -the enemy,” at the period of the first assault, which took place on -the 25th July, five weeks before the second and memorable -storming. I have transferred the incident to the latter part of -the siege.</p> - -<p>The incident of the discovery of the spring upon Monte Orgullo -after the cutting off of the aqueduct, but for which fortunate accident -the town would have been probably forced to surrender much -sooner, was communicated to me by an officer who was present at -the siege. It was found about half way up the cliff where it overhangs -the ocean, and surrounded by masonry is carefully preserved -to the present day. The water is excellent, and the flow abundant. -There were not wanting French partisans at the time, especially -amongst the elderly female residents in San Sebastian, who believed -the discovery of this spring to be miraculous!</p> - -<p>When Marshal Berwick attacked San Sebastian in 1719, he -threw up batteries on the same Chofre hills where the Allies now -planted theirs. He then pushed his approaches along the isthmus, -and established himself on the covered-way of the land front. As -soon as the breach was practicable, the governor capitulated. But -the present governor, Ney, was made of different stuff. Capitulation -was the last thing that he thought of, and Napoléon’s instructions -to the defenders of besieged towns were never more terribly -fulfilled than by this very gallant man. “Napoléon’s ordinance,” -says Napier, “which forbade the surrender of a fortress without -having stood at least one assault, has been strongly censured by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -English writers upon slender grounds. The obstinate defences -made by French governors in the Peninsula were the results. -* * It may be reasonably supposed that, as the achievements of -Napoléon’s soldiers far exceeded the exploits of Louis (XIV.)’s -cringing courtiers, they possessed greater military virtues.”—<cite>Hist.</cite> -book xxii. c. 1.</p> - -<p>The attack was in a great degree carried on from the midst of -“circling orchards.” From the ground taken up by the besiegers -to Ernani, the whole country is covered with orchards.</p> - -<p>For the costume and other particulars of the Basque <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">barqueras</i>, -or boat-girls of the Bidassoa and Urumea, the reader is referred to -the tours of Madame D’Aulnoy and M. de Bourgoing. The <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">xaquetilla</i> -is a “little jacket” or spencer.</p> - -<p>As reference is made to the Guerrillas in this canto, the following -brief sketch of the leaders may be acceptable:—</p> - -<p>Mina was a man of powerful frame and noble aspect—a fine -specimen of Nature’s nobility. He was rather tall, of portly size, -with fine chest and shoulders, and gigantic arms. His features -were more English than Spanish in their aspect, being by no means -dark, and their expression powerful, dignified, and heroic. There -is a fine portrait of him in Somerset House, London. Like almost -all the Guerrilleros, however, he was cruel. The French, whom -they cut off by their most harassing mode of warfare, were mercilessly -slaughtered. Mina, who was of the common class of peasant-farmers, -began with a band of about twenty men whom he formed -from amongst his neighbours, appointing a sergeant and corporal. -Repeated successes and the character of the chief swelled this band -to 300 in number. Mina then appointed a lieutenant. The latter -plotted against his commander, and Mina shot him dead with a -pistol, after taxing him with his treason, in presence of his men. -The rough Spanish mountaineers liked his daring and resolute -character, his band swelled to a thousand, and his new lieutenant -again conspired to oust his leader. Mina had this man -drowned in a well. He was subsequently left unmolested in his -command, until his powerful genius organized and led an army.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -At his death, which occurred about ten years since in Barcelona, he -was a Field Marshal, a Grandé of Spain, and Vice-Roy of Navarre. -His widow became Aya or Governess to the present Queen of -Spain, Isabel, and held that post till the expulsion of Espartero. -Mina had a brother, Xavier Mina, who entered the regular army at -an early period of life, and likewise rose to the rank of Field -Marshal. He was treacherously shot in Mexico by Morillo.</p> - -<p>The Empecinado was in person a still finer man than Mina, but -of a much less pleasing aspect. His face was stamped with savage -resolution and ferocity. His appearance was strictly Spanish, his -complexion being much darker than that of Mina. Both were -black-haired, but the Empecinado’s was of a raven intensity of jet. -He was one of the strongest men in Europe, tall and square-built—a -Hercules to the eye as well as in reality. Some nearly incredible -feats are recorded of his prodigious strength. The last of all -was the most worthy of note, and <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'recals the main'">recalls the main</ins> incident of our -fine old English ballad of “Adam Bell, Clym o’ the Clough, and -William of Cloudeslie.” During the fatal year of the Duke of -Angoulême’s invasion, 1823, when so many Constitutionalists fell -victims to Ferdinand’s gloomy ferocity, and Riego was villainously -butchered at Madrid, the Empecinado was seized by the myrmidons -of Absolutism at a village about twenty miles distant, caged and -tortured for three days, and at the end of that time led out for -execution. At the foot of the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">furca</i> or gallows-tree, with one -effort he burst the thick cord with which his arms were bound, -and seized a gun from one of the soldiers near him. Had he not -been instantly slain, there is little doubt that with the butt-end he -would have slaughtered a hecatomb of the satellites of power. -But the whole file poured their fire into him at once, and he was -hung notwithstanding, though the rope was adjusted on a corpse! -The Curate Merino was distinguished for bush-fighting, and a rather -treacherous and Parthian mode of assault, and his aspect corresponded -with his character. His influence over his comrades was -secured by promises of eternal happiness.</p> - -<p>Blanca’s figuring in childhood in the character of an angel is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -thus accounted for. The feast of San Sebastian is every year a -great event in that ancient town. The celebration is in many -respects interesting, including a procession in which female children -chosen for their beauty take a very prominent part, bearing baskets -of flowers, arrows typical of the martyr’s fate, and other interesting -emblems. Their dresses are of the richest description—a little gaudy, -to be sure, but beneath the brilliant sky of Spain this is, perhaps, -excusable. They represent angels, and are provided with crowns -set with mock diamonds, rubies, and topazes of the largest size, -and with gauze wings bound round with gold or silver tissue. -Short skirts of the ballet class, satin shoes, and white silk stockings, -complete an array of splendour which excites, as may well be -believed, terrific admiration in their mammas and envy in all the -rest of the town. A chorus from time immemorial is sung to -celebrate their progress, of which the burthen is:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Vivan las niñas</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">De San Sebastian!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">III.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Bartolomeo’s heights”—“Antigua’s rocks.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Convents in the vicinity of San Sebastian, which were seized by the -besiegers and fortified.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“And comes the battering train of cannon fell.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Ma il Capitan, ch’espugnar mai le mura</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Non crede senza i bellici stromenti.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, <cite>Ger. Lib.</cite> iii. 71.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">V.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “—War proclaiming ‘to the knife’ ’Gainst Tyrants!”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Guerra al Cuchillo!</i>” the celebrated proclamation of Palafox at -the Siege of Zaragoza.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Like the Caÿstrian bird.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse8" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——Quæ Asia circum</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Dulcibus in stagnis rimantur prata Caystri.</p> -<p class="verse16">Virg. <cite>Georg.</cite> i. 382.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“With death-notes rife.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——Ut olim</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Carmina jam moriens canit exequialia cygnus.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Tabuit; inque leves paulatim evanuit auras!</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Met.</cite> xiv. 430.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>These lines are dictated by the same feeling, which prompted -Cervantes’s last poetical address (in anticipation of death) to the -great Conde de Lemos:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry" lang="es" xml:lang="es"> -<p class="verse">Puesto ya el pié en el estribo,</p> -<p class="verse">Con las ansias de la muerte,</p> -<p class="verse">Gran Señor, esta te escribo.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">X.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Soon in Rey a noble foeman knew:”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The French Governor of San Sebastian.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “’Neath rapid Ocean’s amorous embrace.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Labitur ripâ, Jove non probante,</p> -<p class="verse10" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Uxorius amnis.</p> -<p class="verse16">Horat. <cite>Carm.</cite> i. 2.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“And on the Sierra swung the Convent bells.” -</p> - -<p>San Bartolomeo.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“The stabled charger bids the monk retire.” -</p> - -<p>Sir Thomas More commemorates the housing of cattle in churches. -“They stop the course of agriculture, reserving only the churches, -that they may lodge their sheep in them.” (<cite>Utopia</cite>, book i.) Bayle -has a similar story in his Dictionary of an abbot who converted his -church into a stable, an example which was speedily followed by -revolutionary France. During the French invasion of Portugal the -cavalry were frequently quartered in churches, and during the -Miguelite war in that country I have been assured that the same -thing was witnessed more than once, and I know of a Constitutionalist, -at present a dignified, clergyman, who upon its being found -that the priest was absent upon some Saint’s festival, stept forward -himself and said mass for the assembled soldiers, booted and spurred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -as he was and in dragoon regimentals! I have often seen this pious -gentleman in Lisbon, whom the populace declare to have taken from -an image of the Virgin the ring which he now sports upon his -finger!</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80"> -<ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'XI.'">XII.</ins></span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Olia’s side.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The batteries of Monte Olia commanded the Castle at a distance -of 1,600 yards, from the north side of the Urumea, Olia and -Orgullo buttressing the entrance of the river magnificently on -either side, and standing apart like giant ramparts.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“The Mirador.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>A battery on the eastern side of Monte Orgullo. The -name signifies “a look out,” the use to which it was formerly -applied. It reminded me very much of the Signal House at -Gibraltar, only that I missed those sapphire and chrysolite tints -of the Mediterranean, which struck me so much when I saw the -moon rise from that elevated ground under the auspices of the -stalwart Sergeant MacDonald.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And totter to their base Tirynthian walls.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">—Τίρυνθά τε τειχιόεσσαν.</span>—Hom. <cite>Il.</cite> ii. 559.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>Tiryns is the first walled city upon record. Its walls were -supposed to have been erected by the Cyclops, and the stones of -which they were composed were of such prodigious size, that the -least of them could not be moved by a pair of oxen. (Pausanias, <em>lib.</em> -ii.) The ruins subsist to the present day, and the traces are still -gigantic. Pindar mentions Tiryns in his Olympionics, Nemeonics, -and Isthmionics. These shattered remains present the earliest -specimen of the Cyclopean architecture.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“The deadly sappers’ stroke that like an earthquake stuns.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>This was the first time that sappers were employed by us in the -Peninsular sieges, or that a corps of sappers formed any regular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -portion of the British army. It was likewise the first time that -Shrapnell shells were used.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “But what can like the British bayonet mar<br /> -<span class="pad7">Thy prowess, France?”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>The bayonet, originally a French invention (deriving, as is well -known, its name from the town of Bayonne), became ultimately the -very instrument of French defeat—for by the universal testimony -of military men, when wielded by British hands, the French have -invariably fled before it:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">—Neque enim lex æquior ulla,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Quàm necis artifices arte perire suâ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite lang="la" xml:lang="la">de Arte Amandi.</cite></p> -</div></div> - -<p>But it would be as grossly unjust as ungenerous to dispute the ardour -and frequent brilliancy of French courage. Upon this subject -the discriminating testimony of Napier is as follows: “Place an attainable -object of war before the French soldier and he will make -supernatural efforts to gain it, but failing he becomes proportionally -discouraged. Let some new chance be opened, some fresh stimulus -applied to his ardent, sensitive temper, and he will rush forward -again with unbounded energy: the fear of death never checks him, -he will attempt any thing. But the unrelenting vigour of the -British infantry in resistance wears his fury out.”—<cite>Hist. War in -the Penins.</cite> book xxiv. chap. 6.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “With glancing steel upon the trenches’ edge.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Wie glänzt im sonnenstrahl</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">So bräutlich hell der stahl—</p> -<p class="verse14" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Hurrah!</p> -<p class="verse12">Körner, <cite>Schwertlied</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">How glances bride-like bright</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">The steel which sunbeams strike,—</p> -<p class="verse14" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Hurrah!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “See many a bark that swan-like floats the tide.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Eis mil nadantes aves pelo argento</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Da furiosa Thetis inquieta.</p> -<p class="verse16">Camóens, <cite>Lus.</cite> iv. 49.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Was never seen the like!”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“It was probably the first time that an important siege was maintained -by women’s exertions; the stores of the besiegers were -landed from boats rowed by Spanish girls!”—Napier.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The small black olive that the mountain loves.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">—Lecta de pinguissimis</p> -<p class="verse"><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Oliva ramis arborum.</span>—Hor. <cite>Epod.</cite> ii.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “As Atlas’ daughter in her sunlit isle.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Calypso.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἄτλαντος θυγάτηρ ὀλούφρονος, ὅστε θαλάσσης. κ. τ. λ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Od.</cite> i. 52.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Both man and dame excludes the Nereid throng.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">——τὸν εὐγενῆ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">... πεντήκοντα Νηρῄδων χορόν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Iph. in Taur.</cite> 273.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="pad8">“The illustrious band of the fifty Nereids.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And swam with matchless skill—their element the sea.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Nadan en su cristal ninfas bizarras,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Compitiendo con el candidos pechos.</p> -<p class="verse16">Lope de Vega, <cite>Sonetos</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVII.</span><span class="pad8"> </span> —“Britannia’s hand<br /> -<span class="pad8">Made Earth and Ocean feel her trident stroke.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><em>Vide</em> Virg. <cite>Geor.</cite> i. 13.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">—“Feeble councils numbed at home the arms</p> -<p class="verse">Which even thus paralyzed Gaul’s legions broke.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p>Under the administration of Lord Melville, the Navy of England<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -for the first time sustained disasters in battle, and ships containing -stores and money for the Peninsular army were suffered to be taken -on the passage by French and American cruisers; while the -despicable absurdity was witnessed of two successive investments -and assaults of San Sebastian without the co-operation of a fleet.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Oh, glorious rivalship!” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<p><em>Vide</em> Wordsworth’s “Convention of Cintra.”</p> - -<p class="center"> -“Gibraltar’s griefs—St. Vincent’s memory rending.”</p> - -<p>The memorable siege, in which the Spaniards were finally defeated -on the 13th September, 1782.—The battle of St. Vincent, -in which Jervis destroyed the Spanish fleet, 14th February, 1797.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Spain’s Partidas.”<br /> -</p> - -<p><i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Partidas</i> was the generic name of the partisan bands, who maintained -the indomitable Guerrilla warfare against the French, and of -whom there were not less than 50,000 at one period in Spain. A -favourite weapon of these legitimate successors of the Almugavars, -or ancient mountaineer troops of Spain, was the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">trabuco</i>, or blunderbuss. -The two most famous Partida chiefs were those whose -names are recorded in the text. The Mina alluded to is Espoz y -Mina, the Scanderbeg of Spain, uncle to the Student of the same -name.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “But Nations ne’er yet died when Tyrants pleased!”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The strongest proof of the inherent vitality of a Nation is that -Spain survived the villanies of Godoy.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Reptile, dost <em>Him</em> defy?”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry" lang="de" xml:lang="de"> -<p class="verse">Wer empfinden</p> -<p class="verse">Und sich unterwinden</p> -<p class="verse">Zu sagen: ich glaub’ ihn nicht?</p> -<p class="verse">Der Allumfasser!</p> -<p class="verse">Der Allerhalter!</p> -<p class="verse16">Goethe, <cite>Faust</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Who can feel, and dare to say: ‘I believe in Him not?’ the -All-encompasser, the All-sustainer!”</p> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto II.</h2> - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">How terrible the march of blood-stained War!</p> -<p class="verse2">Though rank on rank his fiery breath lay low,</p> -<p class="verse2">Still patriots crowd, and many a needless scar</p> -<p class="verse2">And daring profitless derides the foe.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, human passion! Is’t but human wo</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou deign’st for food, for drink the crimson tide?</p> -<p class="verse2">Incarnadined Ambition! Here bestow</p> -<p class="verse2">A glance upon thy fruits, and learn to chide</p> -<p class="verse">Thy self-idolatry, thy more than fiendish pride!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Dauntless defenders! On Numantia’s wall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or ’mid self-fired Sagunthus’ leaguered towers,</p> -<p class="verse2">Defying Hannibal whose eyes appal</p> -<p class="verse2">The flames of sacrifice; or ’gainst the powers</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Tarik fierce arrayed in darker hours—</p> -<p class="verse2">From rough Asturian mountains hurling down</p> -<p class="verse2">Huge rocks whose maw the Moorish host devours,</p> -<p class="verse2">While great Pelayo’s form with deadly frown</p> -<p class="verse">Up Covadonga’s vale comes trampling fell Mahoun!</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Or ’mid the echoing heights that girdle round</p> -<p class="verse2">Fair Roncesvalles taming haughty France,</p> -<p class="verse2">When Roland’s horn with its tremendous sound</p> -<p class="verse2">No response woke from aidful troop’s advance,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Paladin and Peer Bernardo’s lance</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath Pyrene slaughtered; or more late</p> -<p class="verse2">At mightiest Zaragoza, where askance</p> -<p class="verse2">Flew Gaul’s derided death-bolts winged by hate,—</p> -<p class="verse">Unyielding still as here by San Sebastian’s gate.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Not many moons before, Gaul’s soldiery</p> -<p class="verse2">Through fair Cantabria’s coast licentious strayed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Brought rapine to the homesteads of the free,</p> -<p class="verse2">And deathless grief to many a beauteous maid;</p> -<p class="verse2">And wo unutterable cast its shade</p> -<p class="verse2">Along Biscaya’s lovely sunlit shore.</p> -<p class="verse2">Weak natures drooped their foreheads, sore afraid,</p> -<p class="verse2">But Blanca proudly lifted hers the more,</p> -<p class="verse">And death to him whose hand might ruffian-dare she swore!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Not long the chance removed, not long the arm</p> -<p class="verse2">Of withering conquest left the test untried;</p> -<p class="verse2">To sabred villains an unrifled charm</p> -<p class="verse2">Were like a stigma to inhuman pride.</p> -<p class="verse2">A gentle sister clung to Blanca’s side</p> -<p class="verse2">One sweet May eve when fills the clustering vine;</p> -<p class="verse2">And ’neath the trellised porch embowering wide,</p> -<p class="verse2">As forth their footsteps strayed from Home’s sweet shrine,</p> -<p class="verse">Two bearded French hussars forbade them pass its line.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“What! buxom damsels—not discerned before.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Where hid my Venus?” Blanca cried: “Forbear!”—</p> -<p class="verse2">“How now? By Heaven, this coyness fires me more;</p> -<p class="verse2">“No dame of Normandy more beauteous fair,</p> -<p class="verse2">“No Bretonne maiden binds more golden hair.”—</p> -<p class="verse2">“Black,” quoth his comrade “is of Beauty’s flower</p> -<p class="verse2">“For me the hue—so, lovingly we’ll share.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Come, be a soldier’s bride—for half an hour.”</p> -<p class="verse">He grinned—both troopers laughed—the maids were in their power!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">This Blanca saw, nor seemed she to resist,</p> -<p class="verse2">E’en smote not when the dastard seized her waist,</p> -<p class="verse2">Resented nought when one her sister kist,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor frowned when his compeer herself embraced.</p> -<p class="verse2">Thus lulled each fear, each dark suspicion chased,</p> -<p class="verse2">They called for wine, the lawless soldier’s bane.</p> -<p class="verse2">O’erjoyed was Blanca, yet with eager haste</p> -<p class="verse2">As poured she cup on cup which swift they drain,</p> -<p class="verse">Betrayed no joy, though fast it mounted to each brain.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Fired with the generous vintage, which gave all</p> -<p class="verse2">The ruffian forth, as gives it forth the balm</p> -<p class="verse2">Of nobler natures, the hussars appal</p> -<p class="verse2">The maidens’ breasts with many a sinking qualm.</p> -<p class="verse2">Hell gleams from forth their eyes; and burns each palm;</p> -<p class="verse2">Distended wide their satyr nostrils scare!</p> -<p class="verse2">Ye maids of England, blissful in your calm</p> -<p class="verse2">Security, oh, long from you be far</p> -<p class="verse">Invasion’s horrors dire, the fiendishness of War!</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">One villain seized the gentle Ana’s arm,</p> -<p class="verse2">And dragged her to the bowering vineyard near;</p> -<p class="verse2">With cruel irony, “lest aught of harm,”</p> -<p class="verse2">He said, “should chance to reach your sister dear,</p> -<p class="verse2">“I’ll take my carbine with me,”—for with fear</p> -<p class="verse2">He marked the flashing wrath in Blanca’s eye;</p> -<p class="verse2">Then o’er his shoulder with this parting jeer</p> -<p class="verse2">He sought to rouse his comrade: “Jules, good b’ye;</p> -<p class="verse">“The dove you think you’ve caught may like a falcon fly.”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Jules still cried: “More wine!” And Blanca poured</p> -<p class="verse2">Like Hebe for this flagrant Hercules,</p> -<p class="verse2">While ever and anon she eyed his sword;</p> -<p class="verse2">But—happier fate—while drains he to the lees</p> -<p class="verse2">Another cup, he drops his head and frees</p> -<p class="verse2">His carbine with the movement. Swift as thought,</p> -<p class="verse2">She lifts the weapon—to the vineyard flees;—</p> -<p class="verse2">The deadly tube she to a level brought,</p> -<p class="verse">When Ana’s struggling arm a friendly vine-branch caught.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Unskilled her aim—but stainless purity</p> -<p class="verse2">Gave loftiest courage, nerving eye and hand.</p> -<p class="verse2">She breathed a prayer—an instant gazed on high—</p> -<p class="verse2">“Oh, Virgin Queen, <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">mi madre</i>, guardian stand!”</p> -<p class="verse2">Next instant she discharged the flaming brand.</p> -<p class="verse2">Within the throb of Ana’s beauteous breast</p> -<p class="verse2">Flew the fleet bullet. Heaven its progress banned;</p> -<p class="verse2">And through the ravisher’s hot heart it prest,</p> -<p class="verse">His fell design extinct in death’s eternal rest!</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Up starts the drunkard sobered by the sound,</p> -<p class="verse2">And runs with hasty sabre to the scene;</p> -<p class="verse2">But Blanca dropt the carbine to the ground,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which like Camilla’s battleaxe, I ween,</p> -<p class="verse2">The virgin bore; and like that Volscian queen,</p> -<p class="verse2">When fiery swift her footsteps past the steed</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Aunus’ son, she bounded o’er the green;</p> -<p class="verse2">And, Ana’s hand in her’s, with matchless speed,</p> -<p class="verse">Reached the far shore, where swift her floating bark she freed.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Maddened with rage quick followed the hussar,</p> -<p class="verse2">But soon his footsteps checked the foaming tide.</p> -<p class="verse2">Gnashed were his teeth while shot the bark afar,</p> -<p class="verse2">And rung the maidens’ laughter clear and wide;</p> -<p class="verse2">For greater not Penthesilea’s pride,</p> -<p class="verse2">Girt by her crescent-shielded Amazons</p> -<p class="verse2">In war’s array, whom Dian dared not chide!</p> -<p class="verse2">Full soon the joyous news like lightning runs,</p> -<p class="verse">And wins undying fame ’mongst wild Cantabria’s sons.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And ever after Blanca bore the name</p> -<p class="verse2">“La Espingarda,” which her daring told,</p> -<p class="verse2">And gave the carbine she discharged to fame,</p> -<p class="verse2">When Innocence was made by Virtue bold.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, selfish were the breast, methinks, and cold,</p> -<p class="verse2">That would not look with eye of favour there:</p> -<p class="verse2">Such was the maid who led that Nereid fold,—</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose loud guitar, in scorn a chain to wear,</p> -<p class="verse">Called her compatriot men to guard Iberia fair.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Thus oft between Isaro’s isle and San</p> -<p class="verse2">Sebastian Blanca past with fancy free,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till through her veins Love’s soft infection ran,</p> -<p class="verse2">And tamed her spirit of wild gaiety.</p> -<p class="verse2">A gallant youth and fond did Blanca see</p> -<p class="verse2">’Mongst Albion’s sons who lay the town before.</p> -<p class="verse2">Of all the host was braver none than he,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Blanca trembled to her bosom’s core</p> -<p class="verse">Beneath his eagle-glance, when love he whispered o’er.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Full many a sweet, nor yet delusive tale</p> -<p class="verse2">He told the maid of mingling heart and hand,</p> -<p class="verse2">And home and household gods in sweetest vale</p> -<p class="verse2">Amid the glories of his Motherland,</p> -<p class="verse2">Of joys that glistened ’neath Hope’s faëry wand,</p> -<p class="verse2">And life’s long course by Gnidian torches lighted,</p> -<p class="verse2">Of foreheads pure by milder zephyrs fanned,</p> -<p class="verse2">And England’s happier clime by war unblighted.</p> -<p class="verse">His passion soon declared, their mutual vows were plighted.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Hast thou not seen a clear and sparkling rill,</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon whose ripplings joyous sunbeams quiver,</p> -<p class="verse2">Flow swift, yet tranquil, from its native hill</p> -<p class="verse2">Straight to the bosom of some mighty river,—</p> -<p class="verse2">Its separate existence lost for ever,</p> -<p class="verse2">Its name, its nature, sunk in the devotion</p> -<p class="verse2">Of that great confluence? Calm as to the Giver,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her life she gave, nor struggle nor commotion</p> -<p class="verse">Showed where that streamlet flowed, for ever mixed with Ocean.</p> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Morton the youth was named—majestic tall,</p> -<p class="verse2">For strength and symmetry his shape combined;</p> -<p class="verse2">Gentle as valiant, generous, loved by all;</p> -<p class="verse2">A soldier frank, pellucid was his mind,</p> -<p class="verse2">His judgment sound, his bearing ever kind;</p> -<p class="verse2">To her ’twas tenderest love that hourly grew.</p> -<p class="verse2">The pride that scorns unequal lots to bind</p> -<p class="verse2">In wedlock deeply he contemned, nor knew</p> -<p class="verse">A thought that was not all to humbler Blanca true.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Morton from the maiden learnt how soon</p> -<p class="verse2">Might Santa Clara’s rocky isle be won,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where batteries planted ere another moon</p> -<p class="verse2">The siege must end, and Mota’s fortress stun</p> -<p class="verse2">With many a thunder-voiced o’erpowering gun;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Blanca promised to the shore to guide.</p> -<p class="verse2">Swift Morton warm with warlike zeal doth run,</p> -<p class="verse2">His plans unfolding to his Chief with pride,</p> -<p class="verse">And valiant Graham doth give to Morton margin wide.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Soon were his comrades chos’n, and Nial first,</p> -<p class="verse2">His bosom-friend, companion oft in arms;</p> -<p class="verse2">Both of the Light Brigades, and both athirst</p> -<p class="verse2">For Glory! Nial led ’mid War’s alarms</p> -<p class="verse2">A file of Rifles. Danger still had charms</p> -<p class="verse2">For him transcendent; young, as woman fair,</p> -<p class="verse2">Slight-formed yet lion-brave—his vigour warms</p> -<p class="verse2">The veteran. Clothed his cheek with beauty rare,</p> -<p class="verse">Yet none in all the host so actively would dare.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The Spaniards oft declared he was a girl</p> -<p class="verse2">In male attire, till they beheld his deeds.</p> -<p class="verse2">The oldest soldiers watched his looks in per’l,</p> -<p class="verse2">Obeyed his slightest sign, and where he leads</p> -<p class="verse2">Follow in battle—though the column bleeds.</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet Nial hath not reached his twentieth year!</p> -<p class="verse2">Noble and proud is every thought he feeds.</p> -<p class="verse2">Such was the youth, who Morton counselling clear,</p> -<p class="verse">His plans to take the Isle arranged the trenches near.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And as they spoke the batteries raised their voice,</p> -<p class="verse2">From crowned La Mota raining shot and shell,</p> -<p class="verse2">Drove through the ranks, and made the Gaul rejoice</p> -<p class="verse2">With many a horrid gap that, ah, could well</p> -<p class="verse2">Its tale of dire disaster silent tell!</p> -<p class="verse2">For fragments strewn of gunner and his art</p> -<p class="verse2">Lay quivering round while fierce the foemen yell.</p> -<p class="verse2">Dismounted gun, and shattered carriage, chart,</p> -<p class="verse">Line, linstock, bullet, corse, were tossed in every part.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Rey’s petulant to-day,” quoth Nial. Straight</p> -<p class="verse2">A huge artillery waggon by their side,</p> -<p class="verse2">That fed our batteries, six strong horses’ freight,</p> -<p class="verse2">Struck by a shell, up-bounding scattered wide</p> -<p class="verse2">War’s provender. The missile dumb doth bide—</p> -<p class="verse2">A minute’s pause of horrible suspense,</p> -<p class="verse2">That hushed each heart, and paled the cheek of Pride!</p> -<p class="verse2">Then with explosion terrible, immense,</p> -<p class="verse">Its dire contents around were showered in ruin dense.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The riders instant died—three gunners more</p> -<p class="verse2">Were gravely wounded. Mad with pain and fright,</p> -<p class="verse2">The horses started off at gallop o’er</p> -<p class="verse2">The plain, while blazed the waggon with that bright</p> -<p class="verse2">Combustion. One steed wounded fell outright;</p> -<p class="verse2">And frantic with the fiery mass each bound</p> -<p class="verse2">Whirled through the air—the wheels themselves alight—</p> -<p class="verse2">They dragged both horse and waggon o’er the ground,</p> -<p class="verse">Till all was shattered ’mongst Ernani’s orchards found.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Swift—to the Island!” both the friends exclaim;</p> -<p class="verse2">And as night fell their boats from cove concealed</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath Antigua’s convent seaward came;</p> -<p class="verse2">Full soon with muffled oars that nought revealed,</p> -<p class="verse2">They lay ’neath Santa Clara’s rocky field;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Blanca in the crag disclosed a cleft,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where straight they land. But loud the sent’nel pealed</p> -<p class="verse2">The alarum gun, its post the picquet left,</p> -<p class="verse">And flew like burghers bold to guard from midnight theft.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But soon, o’erpowered by numbers, their array</p> -<p class="verse2">Was beaten back—resistance now was vain.</p> -<p class="verse2">Submissively their arms were lowered away,</p> -<p class="verse2">And o’er their sorrowing breasts a captive chain</p> -<p class="verse2">Is gently flung: “Our battery soon shall reign</p> -<p class="verse2">“Triumphant here,” quoth Morton, “thanks to thee,</p> -<p class="verse2">“Sweet maiden.” Blanca smiled, and cried,—“For Spain!”</p> -<p class="verse2">Then to her bark once more she bounded free,</p> -<p class="verse">And with her Nereids young thus sang and smote the sea:</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">The Oar-Song.</p> - - -<p class="canto">1.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Lean to your oars;</p> -<p class="verse2">Pull along cheerily;</p> -<p class="verse">Ne’er let the shores</p> -<p class="verse2">Drag along drearily.</p> -<p class="verse">Courts are but slavery,</p> -<p class="verse2">Grandeur is smoke;</p> -<p class="verse">Our’s the true bravery;</p> -<p class="verse2">Bend to the stroke!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">2.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">See where the tide</p> -<p class="verse2">Sparkles phosphorical;</p> -<p class="verse">Learning is pride,</p> -<p class="verse2">Science an oracle!</p> -<p class="verse">While through the water we</p> -<p class="verse2">Dash with our stems,</p> -<p class="verse">Royally scatter we</p> -<p class="verse2">Myriads of gems.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">3.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Stoop with good will;</p> -<p class="verse2">Joyous our motion is.</p> -<p class="verse">Breast with air fill;</p> -<p class="verse2">Sapphire-like Ocean is!</p> -<p class="verse">Laugh at each lazy man,</p> -<p class="verse2">Keep the stroke—so;</p> -<p class="verse">Poor lackadaisy man</p> -<p class="verse2">Never could row!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">4.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Where is the joy</p> -<p class="verse2">Like the oar feathering?</p> -<p class="verse">Where’s the alloy</p> -<p class="verse2">Tempests in weathering?</p> -<p class="verse">Lash the spray, scattering</p> -<p class="verse2">Many a beam;</p> -<p class="verse">While our oars clattering</p> -<p class="verse2">Flash through the stream!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Upon thy buckler, Gaul, terrific rang</p> -<p class="verse2">Vittoria’s powerful stroke, and reeling back</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy phantom-King to tall Pyrene sprang;</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy shattered Army, sorrowing deep for lack</p> -<p class="verse2">Of conquest or of guiding, fell to wrack,</p> -<p class="verse2">By the great arm of Arthur paralyzed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till rapid Soult, when loured the sky most black,</p> -<p class="verse2">From Dresden rushed and chaos methodized:</p> -<p class="verse">No Marshal-Chief, be sure, Napoléon higher prized.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Yet wise by experience, taught a cautious dread,</p> -<p class="verse2">And rocking still from England’s vigorous blows,</p> -<p class="verse2">A hissing serpent’s more than lion’s head</p> -<p class="verse2">That earth-struck host presented when it rose,</p> -<p class="verse2">And watched the hour to spring upon its foes.</p> -<p class="verse2">First San Sebastian to relieve its aim,</p> -<p class="verse2">Next to redeem lost glory and oppose</p> -<p class="verse2">Our strong advance, upon Pyrene tame</p> -<p class="verse">The pride that dares its crags, and France preserve from shame.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">See where the couchant giant bristling lies,</p> -<p class="verse2">Pyrene with his mountain sides and hair</p> -<p class="verse2">Of forests dense. His crest doth pierce the skies,</p> -<p class="verse2">His limbs are precipices poised in air,</p> -<p class="verse2">His rugged spine full many a peak doth bear;</p> -<p class="verse2">His ribs, huge ridges, part on either hand,</p> -<p class="verse2">His mouths are deep ravines where torrents tear</p> -<p class="verse2">Through rocks a course to Man that seemeth banned.</p> -<p class="verse">Yet there our heroes march, their brows by Victory fanned.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">At Zabaldíca now with gathering ire</p> -<p class="verse2">The rival armies stand on fearful steeps,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where rocks on rocks are piled like bastions dire,</p> -<p class="verse2">And savage Solitude sublimely sleeps,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Cristovál’s and Lanz’s torrent leaps</p> -<p class="verse2">Adown the valley where Sauróren smiles.</p> -<p class="verse2">The pass to San Sebastian England keeps.</p> -<p class="verse2">There Morton brave and Nial lead their files;</p> -<p class="verse">And hardy veterans climb those cloudy mountain piles.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What clattering steed doth gallop fleet as air</p> -<p class="verse2">Through the Lanz valley, making earth to shake</p> -<p class="verse2">’Neath his hoofs’ thunder? With that horseman dare</p> -<p class="verse2">None ride save one, the noblest, for his sake</p> -<p class="verse2">Light valuing life or limb. Thought-swift they make</p> -<p class="verse2">Sauróren. O’er the mountain crest they see</p> -<p class="verse2">Clausel’s brigades from Zabaldíca take</p> -<p class="verse2">The glen. Leaps from his horse that rider free</p> -<p class="verse">To the bridge-parapet, and writes full rapidly.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">It is great Arthur, who the varying chance</p> -<p class="verse2">Of mountain-warfare spirit-like doth seize.</p> -<p class="verse2">Cole eagle-eyed and gallant Picton France</p> -<p class="verse2">Would fain cut off; but now our Chief with ease</p> -<p class="verse2">Averts the danger. Rapid as the breeze,</p> -<p class="verse2">Somerset’s charger gallops carrying far</p> -<p class="verse2">His fresh instructions. Dashes through the trees</p> -<p class="verse2">The French light horse—in vain his course they mar,</p> -<p class="verse">And Arthur tranquil rides, the ascent to him no bar.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The Lusitan battalions first descried</p> -<p class="verse2">The advancing Chief, and raised a shout of joy.</p> -<p class="verse2">Uneasy they while distant he doth ride;</p> -<p class="verse2">Their treasure-trove, their gold without alloy!</p> -<p class="verse2">The British legions swift caught up the cry,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which swelled along the line till stern it rose</p> -<p class="verse2">To Battle’s shout appalling fierce the sky—</p> -<p class="verse2">The shout that tells the breast to Victory goes,</p> -<p class="verse">The shout that ne’er was heard unmoved by Britain’s foes!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">An instant stopt great Arthur on the brow</p> -<p class="verse2">Of that steep mountain. Both the Armies saw</p> -<p class="verse2">The Hero at that moment. Soult was now</p> -<p class="verse2">So near, each rival Chief could plainly draw</p> -<p class="verse2">The lineaments of each that strike with awe</p> -<p class="verse2">Their several hosts: “Now strong,” thought Arthur, “is he,</p> -<p class="verse2">“But cautious. Of that shout he will, some flaw</p> -<p class="verse2">“Suspecting, much inquire; and thus will free</p> -<p class="verse">“My scattered host, till all combined resistless be.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Soult, indeed, the battle’s shock withheld,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till rose next morning’s sun. But forth he pushed</p> -<p class="verse2">His skirmishers whose fire was keen repelled,</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet not till night was o’er the mountain hushed.</p> -<p class="verse2">For rode the Marshal where Lanz’ torrent gushed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Our whole position cautiously surveying:</p> -<p class="verse2">By deep defile to far Villalba rushed</p> -<p class="verse2">The infant Arga, all around displaying</p> -<p class="verse">Our troops on every height, for battle fast arraying.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Upon a rugged mountain’s craggy crest,</p> -<p class="verse2">A shrine of spotless Mary clustered round</p> -<p class="verse2">The Lusitan battalion. Soult possest</p> -<p class="verse2">With thought of weakness there, where cannon frowned</p> -<p class="verse2">At Zabaldíca, raised Destruction’s sound;</p> -<p class="verse2">But vain its poise ’gainst that enormous height,</p> -<p class="verse2">His shot from lower crags doth back rebound.</p> -<p class="verse2">Powerless his ordnance for Titanian fight,</p> -<p class="verse">’Tis Nature’s storm-artillery ushers in the Night!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Dumb be your voices while the thunder-chime</p> -<p class="verse2">Peals from Pyrene’s turrets, echoing far.</p> -<p class="verse2">While roar the elements with rage sublime,</p> -<p class="verse2">Hushed be your strife, Pygmæan men of war!</p> -<p class="verse2">See, see, ye tremble at the lightning-scar.</p> -<p class="verse2">Your brands are sheath’d—ye feel as feathers, dust.</p> -<p class="verse2">Away! nor God’s designs profanely mar,</p> -<p class="verse2">Wreaking on brother-forms your gory lust.</p> -<p class="verse">In vain! France tempts her doom, and England holds her trust!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Next morn the absent corps our army join.</p> -<p class="verse2">Joy to our Chieftain for his guidance true!</p> -<p class="verse2">Sir Pack’s not yet hath come—but Marcaloin</p> -<p class="verse2">Shakes with its onward tramp—though from the view</p> -<p class="verse2">Of hawk-eyed Soult ’tis hid. To battle flew</p> -<p class="verse2">His host, assailing Cole in front and rear.</p> -<p class="verse2">Clausel from the Lanz valley poureth too</p> -<p class="verse2">His skirmishers—the mountain-side they clear;</p> -<p class="verse">Cole’s left is rapid turned—defeat we now may fear.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But sudden rises o’er the mountain’s crest—</p> -<p class="verse2">What is’t? An army new of warriors dread—</p> -<p class="verse2">Pack’s corps, whose swift approach by Soult unguest</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur’s eagle-eye to battle led,</p> -<p class="verse2">In place and time where best our ranks are fed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Instant their clattering fire is hostile blended.</p> -<p class="verse2">Cole smites the foeman’s right, whose left too bled</p> -<p class="verse2">From Lusia’s arms; their front, by Pack offended,</p> -<p class="verse">With violent shock the vale in headlong flight descended.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The Gaul who had strove to compass round our left</p> -<p class="verse2">Himself is now encompassed—in that dire</p> -<p class="verse2">Extremity of daring not bereft,</p> -<p class="verse2">But facing all around in conflict’s ire</p> -<p class="verse2">His fierce assailants—scattering with his fire</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many a corse, where Frenchmen thicker fell.</p> -<p class="verse2">But climbs Clausel’s reserve the mountain higher,</p> -<p class="verse2">Up craggy steep where doth the Virgin dwell.</p> -<p class="verse">Stern was the fight, and Gaul had battled ne’er so well.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XLI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">See from Sauróren in the vale beneath</p> -<p class="verse2">Where darts that column to the mountain-shrine,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor fires a shot, but silent o’er the heath</p> -<p class="verse2">Strains to the rugged summit, while their line</p> -<p class="verse2">Is swept by fiery tempest. Bright doth shine</p> -<p class="verse2">French valour there. Though ranks be swept away,</p> -<p class="verse2">Unchecked their ardour. For the crest they pine,</p> -<p class="verse2">And win it. Lusia’s rifles swell the fray,</p> -<p class="verse">And France upon this point an instant gains the day.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Ross his bold brigade of Britain’s sons</p> -<p class="verse2">Hath close at hand; and Nial, Morton there</p> -<p class="verse2">With martial ardour each impetuous runs,</p> -<p class="verse2">Heading their veterans in the fray to share.</p> -<p class="verse2">With lusty shouts against the French they bear,</p> -<p class="verse2">And strongly charge and down the mountain dash.</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet undismayed again the foemen dare</p> -<p class="verse2">The dire ascent—again their firelocks flash.</p> -<p class="verse">Again o’erturned they fall, and vain their valour rash.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Through sulphurous shroud new skirmishers ascend,</p> -<p class="verse2">And mount the crest new columns of attack;</p> -<p class="verse2">Ev’n gallant Ross an instant forced to bend</p> -<p class="verse2">Before that fiery crowd recedeth back,</p> -<p class="verse2">But to return next instant with no lack</p> -<p class="verse2">Of desperate courage. Up the crest once more</p> -<p class="verse2">Our heroes charge, nor Gallic fire doth slack.</p> -<p class="verse2">Charge upon charge succeeding o’er and o’er,</p> -<p class="verse">Each gains and yields by turns—the sod is dyed with gore.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XLIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Britain must the foemen hold at bay,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whom Creçy, Poictiers, Azincour beheld,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whom Blenheim, Ramilies, and Malplaquet,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Oudenarde saw by Britain’s yeomen felled—</p> -<p class="verse2">The foe on every field in Spain she quelled!</p> -<p class="verse2">Brief, potent words did Nial, Morton then,</p> -<p class="verse2">While proud effusion from their bosoms welled,</p> -<p class="verse2">Address with voice inspiring to their men,</p> -<p class="verse">And lead with flashing swords the charge again, again!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh, solid Infantry! oh granite breasts!</p> -<p class="verse2">Like Rome’s Triarians there they stand or fall.</p> -<p class="verse2">Each flashing death-tube not an instant rests,</p> -<p class="verse2">Save where the bayonet-flash may more appal.</p> -<p class="verse2">By France outnumbered, yet till slaughtered all</p> -<p class="verse2">The ground they’d hold. Their wounded and their dead</p> -<p class="verse2">Are laid in one terrific line, a wall</p> -<p class="verse2">Of dauntless valour: by Leucadia’s head,</p> -<p class="verse">So stood Leonides with Persia’s life-blood red!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A rampart of the brave—of dead and dying!</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy column, Gaul, advances to the line,</p> -<p class="verse2">And halts where stern that gory bulwark’s lying,</p> -<p class="verse2">While Britain’s heroes all their fire combine.</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor ’mid tremendous showers of death repine</p> -<p class="verse2">Their wounded comrades smote, since death may bring</p> -<p class="verse2">The foeman under. Gaul, as drunk with wine,</p> -<p class="verse2">Reels from excess of slaughter. Forward spring</p> -<p class="verse">Our bayonets to the charge. The foe is on the wing!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XLVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Then rose the shout that told of England’s power</p> -<p class="verse2">Triumphant on that new Thermopylæ,</p> -<p class="verse2">And gallant hands were clasped in glory’s hour,</p> -<p class="verse2">And beamed Hesperia’s eye more bright to see</p> -<p class="verse2">That now in spite of Hell she will be free!</p> -<p class="verse2">And Nial, Morton folded heart to heart:</p> -<p class="verse2">“Joy! joy! This day shall long remembered be,</p> -<p class="verse2">“For France hath vainly tried her utmost art.”</p> -<p class="verse">And tears of joy were seen from many an eye to start.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh glow of Victory! oh, thrilling pride</p> -<p class="verse2">Of triumph in the strife of mind or hand!</p> -<p class="verse2">More dear to mortal breasts than all beside,</p> -<p class="verse2">In mart or senate as in warlike band,</p> -<p class="verse2">In court or cell—where’er by conquest fanned</p> -<p class="verse2">The swelling temples wear thy plume, Success!</p> -<p class="verse2">How pure thy throb when Freedom lights a land,</p> -<p class="verse2">When pen, tongue, sword a cause sublime confess,</p> -<p class="verse">Well worthy to aspire, befitting Heaven to bless!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Lo, where the giant form of Liberty</p> -<p class="verse2">Arises grand yet shadowy dim o’er Spain.</p> -<p class="verse2">With smiles her champion, Arthur, she doth see,</p> -<p class="verse2">And frowns terrific with august disdain</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the Invaders, trampling on the chain!</p> -<p class="verse2">A fiery sword that as a comet blazed</p> -<p class="verse2">On high she brandished, like the angel-train</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er Paradise. The tyrant-host amazed</p> -<p class="verse">Saw their expulsion doomed, and trembled as they gazed.</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO II.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p>For the incidents from ancient Spanish history with which this -Canto opens, the reader is referred to Livy (lib. xxi. et Epit.) or to -Ferguson’s <cite>Roman Republic</cite>, where a full account will be found of -the ever-memorable Sieges of Saguntum and Numantia. The ruins -of Saguntum (Liv. loc. cit.) or Sagunthus (Sil. Ital. lib. i.) are still -visible on the sea coast, a little to the north of Valencia. The -site of Numantia, having a much more central position, a few -miles north of Soria, capital of the small province of that name -in the eastern part of Old Castile, is more conjectural than that -of Sagunthus. The name of Numantia is erroneously spelled -“Numantium” in Mr. Lockhart’s <cite>Ancient Spanish Ballads</cite>, a -work of extraordinary merit, notwithstanding a few inaccuracies. -The particulars of the siege of Numantia are to be found in the -57th <cite>Epitome</cite> of Livy’s lost books. The Moorish invasion -under Tarik, the fall of Roderick, and the struggles of Pelayo, -are described or alluded to by Byron, Scott, and Southey. The -scene in the Vale of Covadonga is one of the finest passages in -the latter’s poem of <cite>Roderick</cite>, where huge masses of rock are -hurled down on the advancing Moorish host at the signal of the -following words pronounced by the heroine:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse12">—“<span class="smcap">In the name</span></p> -<p class="verse"><span class="smcap">Of God! For Spain and vengeance!</span>”</p> -<p class="verse16">Southey, <cite>Roderick</cite>. book xxiii.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>The fight at Roncesvalles is the most memorable in the entire -range of Romantic History, and has been alluded to, amongst other -poets, by Pulci, Ariosto, Milton, Scott, and Lockhart. The siege -of Zaragoza will be found described in detail in a succeeding canto.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> -The ferocity displayed by the Moors in their invasion appears to -have been not at all exaggerated by the Spanish chroniclers, and -it is curious that this fierceness of aspect should have been noticed -many centuries before by Horace:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Acer et Mauri peditis cruentum</p> -<p class="verse10" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Vultus in hostem.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Carm.</cite> i. 2.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>The modern representations of Abd-el-Kader’s warriors by French -artists square with the ancient notions of the Moorish ferocity of -aspect. I myself have seen at Tangier and Gibraltar for the most -part fine-looking men, but certainly with a tinge of ferocity, and -here and therewith an expression worthy the “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">truculentus Maurorum -vultus.</span>” The introduction of Mohammedanism seems to have -altered nothing in this respect, for in the days of Julius Cæsar, as -Horace here attests, the same physiognomy was apparent; and -Suetonius, speaking of the war between Cæsar and Juba, king of -Mauritania, represents even the Roman legions as affrighted: “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Famâ -hostilium copiarum perterritos ... expectatio adventûs Jubæ terribilis.</span>” -<em>cap. 66.</em></p> - -<p>The part which I assign to the Basque boat-girls, and the strain -of sentiment which pervades their oar-song, although not consonant -with a peaceful state of cultivated society, is quite characteristic -of Spain during the Peninsular War. The creed of Hippolytus -was not very favourable to those literate pretensions which Molière -has so pleasantly satirized in his “<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Précieuses Ridicules</cite>,” and the -Basque barqueras would be quite to his taste. The persecuted of -Phædra, whose uncompromising chastity caused his neck to be -broken, said:—<span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Σοφὴν δὲ μισῶ</span>, “I hate a learned woman;” and -Blanca and her sisters of the oar appear to have extended that -hatred to both sexes.</p> - -<p>Gen. Jones’s record of the seizure of the island of Santa Clara in -the mouth of the harbour is as follows:—“A party of 200 men -was landed this night on the high rocky island of Sta. Clara, and -made prisoners of the enemy’s guard on it, of an officer and twenty-four -men.” <cite>Journals, &c., Supp. Chapt.</cite> Napier makes the military<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> -party to consist of only 100 men—such difficulties does one meet -in ascertaining the minute parts of even recent history. But probably -Gen. Jones may have estimated that the seamen amounted to -another hundred. “A heavy fire was opened on them,” says Napier, -“and the troops landed with some difficulty, but the island was -then easily taken, and a lodgment made with the loss of only -twenty-eight men and officers.” <cite>Hist.</cite> book xxii. c. i. The historical -fact of the supplies having been conveyed to the besiegers -at San Sebastian by boat-girls gives warrant to the supposition that -they may have assisted in the capture of the Island.</p> - -<p>This Canto describes the principal warlike operations between -the battle of Vittoria and the first battle of Sauroren, with a description -of the first part of which it terminates. The incidents -will be found in Napier’s <cite>History</cite>, book xxi. chap. 5.</p> - -<p>The concluding incident is from the combat of Maya, which -took place in the same neighbourhood a few days previously, and -is thus described by Captain Norton, of the 34th regiment.—“The -ninety-second met the advancing French column first with its right -wing drawn up in line, and after a most destructive fire and heavy -loss on both sides, the remnant of the right wing retired, leaving a -line of killed and wounded that appeared to have no interval. The -French column advanced up to this line and then halted, the killed -and wounded of the ninety-second forming a sort of rampart; the -left wing then opened its fire on the column, and as I was but a -little to the right of the ninety-second, I could not help reflecting -painfully how many of the wounded of their right wing must have -unavoidably suffered from the fire of their comrades.” This frightful -butchery appears to excite the enthusiasm of some of its military -historians. “So dreadful was the slaughter,” says Napier, “that -it is said the advancing enemy was actually stopped by the heaped -mass of dead and dying; and then the left wing of that noble -regiment coming down from the higher ground smote wounded -friends and exulting foes alike, as mingled together they stood or -crawled before its fire. * * The stern valour of the ninety-second,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -principally composed of Irishmen, would have graced -Thermopylæ.”—<cite>Hist. War. Penins.</cite> book xxi. chap. 5.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">III.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “When Roland’s horn with its tremendous sound.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">La dove il corno sona tanto forte</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Dopo la dolorosa rotta.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pulci.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Fired with the generous vintage, which gave all<br /> -<span class="pad7">The ruffian forth,” &c.</span></p> - -<p> -<span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Κράτιστον μὲν τῆς ἀκμῆς τῶν χαιρῶν τυγχάνειν· ἐπειδὴ δὲ δυσκαταμαθέτως<br /> -ἔχουσιν. κ. τ. λ.</span><br /> -<span class="pad16">Isoc. <cite>ad Nicocl.</cite></span><br /> -</p> - -<p>“It is most excellent to enjoy moderately the height of felicity; -but this men find most difficult to learn.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">X.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Like Hebe for this flagrant Hercules.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Τέρπεται ἐν θαλίῃς, καὶ ἔχει καλλίσφυρον Ἥβην,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Παῖδα Διὸς μεγάλοιο καὶ Ἥρης χρυσοπεδίλου.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Od.</cite> xi. 602.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Flagrans amor Herculis Heben.”—Propert I. 13. 23.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Which like Camilla’s battle-axe, I ween.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Rapit indefessa bipennem.”—Virg. <cite>Æn.</cite> xi. 651.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“When fiery swift her footsteps past the steed.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse4" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——“Pernicibus ignea plantis,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Transit equum cursu.”</p> -<p class="verse16">—<em>Ib.</em> 718.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Girt by her crescent-shielded Amazons.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Fœminea exsultant lunatis agmina peltis.”</p> -<p class="verse16">—Virg. <cite>Æn.</cite> xi. 663.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Hast thou not seen a clear and sparkling rill, &c.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Qualis in aerii pellucens vertice montis</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Rivus, muscoso prosilit e lapide;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Qui cùm de pronâ præceps est valle volutus,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Per medium densi transit iter populi.</p> -<p class="verse16">Catul. lxvi.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “A soldier frank, pellucid was his mind.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλ’ ἐνθάδ’, ἐν Τροίᾳ τ’, ἐλευθέραν φύσιν</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Παρέχων, Ἄρη, τὸ κατ’ ἐμὲ, κοσμήσω δορί.</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Iphig. in Aul.</cite> 930.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“<em>Achil.</em> Both here and in Troy, displaying a frank mind, as -far as in me lies, I will illustrate Mars in battle.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> —“Nial led ’mid War’s alarms<br /> -<span class="pad7">A file of Rifles.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse12" lang="la" xml:lang="la">—Sævam</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Militiam puer, et Cantabrica bella tulisti</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sub Duce.</p> -<p class="verse16">Horat. <cite>Epist.</cite> i. 18.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The Spaniards oft declared he was a girl.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Era Medoro un mozo de veinte años,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Ensortijado el pelo, y rubio el bozo,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">De mediana estatura, y de ojos graves,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Graves mirados, y en mirar suaves.</p> -<p class="verse16">Lope de Vega, <cite>Angelica</cite>, iii.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Till rapid Soult,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<p>Rapidity of conception and execution were marked features in -Marshal Soult’s military character. The decree by which Napoléon -appointed him his Lieutenant in Spain was issued at Dresden on -the 1st July, 1813, ten days after the battle of Vittoria. On the -eleventh day he was in the midst of the army in Spain! “The -12th, Soult, travelling with surprising expedition, assumed the -command of the armies of the ‘north,’ the ‘centre,’ and the -‘south,’ now reorganized in one body called ‘the Army of Spain.’ -And he had secret orders to put Joseph forcibly aside if necessary, -but that monarch voluntarily retired from the army.” Napier, -<cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> book xxi. chap. 4. “Marshal Soult -was one of the few men whose indefatigable energy rendered them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -worthy lieutenants of the emperor; and with singular zeal, vigour, -and ability he now served.”—<em>Ibid.</em> “Such was Soult’s activity -that on the 16th all the combinations for a gigantic offensive -movement were digested.”—<em>Ibid.</em></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “His rugged spine full many a peak doth bear,<br /> -<span class="pad8">His ribs, huge ridges, part on either hand.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>This is the actual formation of the Pyrenees. A great spinal -ridge runs diagonally across this entire mountain tract, trending -westward. From this spine sierras shoot forth on both sides, and -the communications between the valleys formed by these ridges -pass over breaks in the sierras, called <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">puertos</i> by the Spaniards, -and <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">cols</i> by the French.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “What clattering steed doth gallop fleet as air.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>On the 27th July, Wellington, having been unable to learn any -thing of the movements of Picton and Cole, who had been left in -the valley of Zubiri and on the adjoining heights of Linzoain, on the -evening preceding, and dreading lest Soult’s combinations should -cut them off, quitted Sir Rowland Hill’s quarters in the Bastan at -a very early hour in the morning (these early matutinal movements -have been always characteristic of his Grace) and descending the -valley of Lanz, reached Ostiz, a few miles from Sauroren, where -he met General Long with his brigade of light cavalry, who informed -him that Picton and Cole had abandoned the heights of -Linzoain, and were moving on Huarte, “He left his quarter-master-general -with instructions to stop all the troops coming down -the valley of Lanz until the state of affairs at Huarte should be -ascertained. Then at racing speed he made for Sauroren. As he -entered that village he saw Clauzel’s divisions moving from Zabaldíca -along the crest of the mountain, and it was clear that the -allied troops in the valley of Lanz were intercepted, wherefore -pulling up his horse, he wrote on the parapet of the bridge of -Sauroren fresh instructions to turn every thing from that valley to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -the right, by a road which led through Lizasso and Marcalain -behind the hills to the village of Oricain, that is to say in rear of -the position now occupied by Cole. Lord Fitzroy Somerset, the only -staff officer who had kept up with him, galloped with these orders -out of Sauroren by one road, the French light cavalry dashed in -by another, and the English general rode alone up the mountain to -reach his troops,” &c.—Napier, <cite>Hist.</cite> book xxi. c. 5.</p> - -<p class="pad4"> -<span class="pad6">—“Thought-swift they make</span><br /> -Sauróren.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>I trust this Teutonism will be pardoned, believing these forms -of expression to be more suited to the genius of our language -than has been hitherto supposed, and likely to be more generally -introduced into poetical diction.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Cole eagle-eyed and gallant Picton.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The gallantry of Picton and the keen observation of Cole were -eminent characteristics of those two generals respectively. The -danger which they ran in this instance was very imminent. Picton -“directed Cole to occupy some heights between Oricain and -Arletta. But that general having with a surer eye, &c.”—Napier, -<cite>Hist.</cite> book xxi. c. 5. Wellington’s rapid riding on this occasion -defeated a very able combination of Soult’s. The Duke was -always an expert and eager horseman, and it was not for nothing -that he kept his pack of fox-hounds in the Peninsula.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The advancing Chief * *<br /> -<span class="pad9">Their treasure-trove, their gold without alloy!”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Longas, ô utinam, dux bone, ferias</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Præstes Hesperiæ!</p> -<p class="verse16">Horat. <cite>Carm.</cite> iv. 5.</p> -</div></div> - -<p> -“The shout that ne’er was heard unmoved by Britain’s foes.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“That stern and appalling shout which the British soldier is -wont to give upon the edge of battle, and which no enemy ever -heard unmoved.” Napier, <cite>Hist.</cite> book xxi. c. 5.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Soult was now so near, &c.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“Lord Wellington suddenly stopped in a conspicuous place, he -desired that both armies should know he was there, and a double -spy who was present pointed out Soult, then so near that his -features could be plainly distinguished. The English general, it is -said, fixed his eyes attentively upon this formidable man, and, -speaking as if to himself, said: ‘Yonder is a great commander, -but he is a cautious one and will delay his attack to ascertain the -cause of these cheers; that will give time for the sixth division to -arrive and I shall beat him.’ And certain it is that the French -general made no serious attack that day.” Napier, <em>ibid.</em></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “But vain its poise ’gainst that enormous height.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“Some guns were pushed in front of Zabaldíca, but the elevation -required to send the shot upward rendered their fire ineffectual.” -Napier, <em>ibid.</em></p> - -<p> -“’Tis Nature’s storm-artillery ushers in the night.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“A terrible storm, the usual precursor of English battles in the -Peninsula, brought on premature darkness and terminated the -dispute.” Napier, <em>ibid.</em></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Dumb be your voices, while the thunder-chime, &c.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Bedecke deinen himmel, Zeus,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Mit wolkendunst, und übe!</p> -<p class="verse16">Goethe (<cite>Prometheus</cite>).</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Curtain thy heavens, Zeus, with clouds and mist, and exercise -thy arm!”</p> - -<p> -“While roar the elements with rage sublime,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Nè quivi ancor dell’ orride procelle</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Ponno appieno schivar la forza e l’ira;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Ma sono estinte or queste faci or quelle,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">E per tutto entra l’acque, e’l vento spira * *</p> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">La pioggia ai gridi, ai venti, al tuon s’accorda</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">D’orribile armonía, che’l mondo assorda.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso. <cite>Gerus. Lib.</cite> vii. 122.</p> -</div></div> - -<p> -—“Ye feel as feathers, dust.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse8" lang="es" xml:lang="es">——La materia humana—</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Viento, humo, polvo, y esperanza vana!</p> -<p class="verse16">Lope de Vega, <cite>Sonetos</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Pack’s corps, whose swift approach by Soult unguest.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>General Pack was in command of the sixth division till this -battle, when he was wounded, and the command passed to general -Pakenham.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XL.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Stern was the fight, and Gaul had battled ne’er so well.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Throughout the entire Peninsular campaigns, the French never -fought with such desperate valour as on this and the few preceding -and following days. In Soult they had the utmost confidence; -they saw that a crisis had arrived, and trembled for France. “The -fight raged close and desperate on the crest of the position, charge -succeeded charge, and each side yielded and recovered by turns; -yet this astounding effort of French valour was of little avail.” -Napier, <em>ibid.</em></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> ——“Lusia’s rifles swell the fray.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>General Ross’s brigade of the fourth division was posted on -this strongly contested height, having a Portuguese battalion -(the seventh caçadores, tenth regiment) in his front, with its flank -resting on the chapel. “The seventh caçadores shrunk abashed, -and that part of the position was won.” Napier, <em>ibid.</em> The -inequality with which the Portuguese fought was remarkable -throughout the Peninsular War. They fought well, or gave way, -in great measure according to the impulse of the movement. Here -they gave way, then inspired by the example of Ross’s brigade -renewed the combat, but again gave way. “Soon, however, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -rallied upon General Ross’s brigade * * and the tenth Portuguese -regiment fighting on the right of Ross’s brigade yielded to -their fury.” Napier, <em>ibid.</em> Sometimes they fought extremely well.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Ev’n gallant Ross.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>This epithet was well deserved by general Ross, and is assigned -to him by Napier. “That gallant officer.” Book xxi. c. 5. I am -proud to record the exploits of my countryman, whose name and -achievements are endeared to me by early recollections. A lofty -column is erected in his honour at the beautiful village of Rosstrevor, -within seven miles of which, at Newry, my early years from -infancy to the period of my going to College were passed. All my -summers were spent in and near Rosstrevor, one of the most -charming sea-bathing spots in the British dominions. The noble -Bay of Carlingford stretches before it, girt by an amphitheatre of -lofty hills, and Killowen Point, the Wood-house, Greencastle, the -light-house, and Grenore, with the ancient and picturesque town -of Carlingford, the stupendous mountain overhanging it, and the -bleak tract extending along to Omeath, contrasted with the sunny -and wooded slopes beyond, have left impressions indelible even -during much travel in foreign lands. I rejoice to perceive that a -railway is about to open up this magnificent region, and trust that -this new means of intercourse will be eminently beneficial to the -warm-hearted inhabitants of all the surrounding district.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad3 noindent"> -“But to return next instant with no lack<br /> -Of desperate courage.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Φεύγειν μὲν οὐκ ἀνεκτὸν, οὐδ’ εἴωθαμεν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Iphig. in Taur.</cite> 104.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“For to fly is not tolerable, neither has it been our custom!”</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Each gains and yields by turns—the sod is dyed with gore.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>This action between Ross’s brigade and Clauzel’s second division -was one of the most terrific during the war. “The fight,” says<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -Napier “raged close and desperate on the crest of the position, -charge succeeded charge, and each side yielded and recovered by -turns.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “So stood Leonides, with Persia’s life-blood red.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse10" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐν Σπάρτᾳ δ’ ἐρέω</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">πρὸ Κιθαιρῶνος μάχαν:</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ταῖσι Μήδειοι κάμον ἀγκυλότοξοι:</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Pyth.</cite> i.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“In Sparta I will sing the fight before Cithæron, where the -Median bowmen fell.” For the details of the battle, and of the -Trachinian treason, see Herodotus, <em>lib.</em> 7. Pindar does not name -Thermopylæ, but Cithæron being in its immediate neighbourhood -would make the allusion at once intelligible. Pindar with instinctive -good taste prefers the name “Cithæron” to that of “Thermopylæ,” -the latter name, though to us so magnificent, sounding -somewhat vulgar to Greek ears, as indicating the θερμὰ λουτρὰ, or -hot-baths from which it was derived.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “That now in spite of Hell she will be free.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Siasi l’inferno e siasi il mondo armato.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, <cite>Gerus. Lib.</cite> xiii. 73.</p> -</div></div> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span><br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto III.</h2> - - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But France though vanquished oft doth oft renew</p> -<p class="verse2">The assault which British arms alone can quell.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her columns fresh the wrested prize pursue,</p> -<p class="verse2">And at the Siérra’s foot their numbers swell.</p> -<p class="verse2">Exhausted War’s munitions now, so well</p> -<p class="verse2">Have England’s sons with fire the foeman plied,</p> -<p class="verse2">And anxious eyes upon their leaders dwell:—</p> -<p class="verse2">“See, see, brave hearts,” young Morton stoutly cried,</p> -<p class="verse">“While rocks like these abound, we’ll guard the mountain’s side!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And at the word he loosed with might and main</p> -<p class="verse2">Such stone immense as feigned Æolides</p> -<p class="verse2">In Orcus tortured flung. Down to the plain</p> -<p class="verse2">It rolleth bounding with gigantic ease,</p> -<p class="verse2">The mountain shaking, crashing through the trees,</p> -<p class="verse2">Dislodging many a smaller granite mass.</p> -<p class="verse2">Appalled its dire approach the foeman sees.</p> -<p class="verse2">On, on it rolls, still thundering o’er the grass,</p> -<p class="verse">Till in the vale it rests, nor dares the Gaul to pass.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And on the foremost crest our men have now</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many a rock’s Aiantine volume rolled;</p> -<p class="verse2">Prepared to hurl them from the mountain-brow,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their powerful hands this rude artillery hold,</p> -<p class="verse2">Should thirst of vengeance make the assailants hold.</p> -<p class="verse2">But men who Death had braved in every form</p> -<p class="verse2">Of War’s destruction known to them of old,</p> -<p class="verse2">Before this unfamiliar mountain-storm</p> -<p class="verse">Have quailed, and our’s the height all strewn with corses warm.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">O’er Zabaldíca and the torrent Lanz</p> -<p class="verse2">Frowned a steep hill, where Spain her sons had placed</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath Murillo. There the host of France</p> -<p class="verse2">Its efforts now concentring urged with haste,</p> -<p class="verse2">And tirailleur and voltigeur embraced</p> -<p class="verse2">The peak around, while marched Clausel and Reille</p> -<p class="verse2">Their columns dense along the mountain-waste.</p> -<p class="verse2">They charged—Pravía stood the shock awhile,</p> -<p class="verse">But numbers soon o’erpower Hesperia’s broken file.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">In silence stern a British column waits,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till on the summit France a footing get;</p> -<p class="verse2">Then rose the charging cry whose peal elates</p> -<p class="verse2">The Island-warrior’s breast. With bayonets set,</p> -<p class="verse2">They rushed upon the advancing crowd, and wet</p> -<p class="verse2">Was every sod with blood. The broken mass</p> -<p class="verse2">Was down the mountain hurled, as from the net</p> -<p class="verse2">The fisher casts his prey. Impetuous pass</p> -<p class="verse">Tempestuous bullets showered, and shiver them like glass.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But France not yet retires, for on this day</p> -<p class="verse2">Pyrené’s fate and her’s will be decided.</p> -<p class="verse2">Though, man ’gainst man, their courage melts away,</p> -<p class="verse2">The charge by Gaulish chiefs again is guided—</p> -<p class="verse2">Again the powers of Fate and Death derided!</p> -<p class="verse2">Thrice the assault’s renewed, and thrice each chief</p> -<p class="verse2">His wearied men doth onward drag to bide it.</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain! The British shock makes contest brief.</p> -<p class="verse">Faint, spiritless, abashed, the foemen seek relief.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Gaul, her infantry thus forced to yield,</p> -<p class="verse2">Now tries the onset of her dashing horse;</p> -<p class="verse2">And charging through the valley shakes the field</p> -<p class="verse2">With thunderous gallop, trampling fallen horse</p> -<p class="verse2">And writhing wounded men without remorse.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our bold hussars beside the river’s edge</p> -<p class="verse2">With flaming carbines they would backward force;</p> -<p class="verse2">Their chargers’ strength they wield like potent wedge,</p> -<p class="verse">And strive to urge our men adown the rocky ledge.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Our fiery squadrons standing in reserve</p> -<p class="verse2">Now join the mêlée, flashing fast around</p> -<p class="verse2">Pistol and carbine—then with powerful nerve</p> -<p class="verse2">They bathe their swords in blood at every bound,</p> -<p class="verse2">While ’neath the shock terrific quakes the ground.</p> -<p class="verse2">See, where yon huge heart-piercéd rider falls;</p> -<p class="verse2">His horse affrighted at the clattering sound</p> -<p class="verse2">Drags him by th’ foot which still the stirrup thralls,</p> -<p class="verse">Till Death arrests them both ’mid storm of flying balls.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh, generous, strong, and fleet are England’s steeds,</p> -<p class="verse2">And mettled high their riders even as they!</p> -<p class="verse2">Though with the cavalier the horse too bleeds,</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet horse and cavalier have won the day.</p> -<p class="verse2">Two Gaulish chiefs have perished in the fray.</p> -<p class="verse2">To the streamlet edge the foe is backward driven;</p> -<p class="verse2">With spur deep-plunged he leaps the stream—away!</p> -<p class="verse2">But many a jaded horse his life hath given</p> -<p class="verse">Headlong adown the bank, where rider too is riven.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">On every side now Britain’s foes repelled</p> -<p class="verse2">Feel that to stand before her might is vain;</p> -<p class="verse2">Our strong position is securely held—</p> -<p class="verse2">Lords of the mountain, masters of the plain</p> -<p class="verse2">From Vascongada’s frontier to the main.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our batteries planted on the bloody hill</p> -<p class="verse2">Before the Virgin’s shrine their death-shot rain</p> -<p class="verse2">From far Illurdos to Elcano’s rill,</p> -<p class="verse">From towering Cristovál to Oricain at will.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But D’Erlon hath concentred all his force,</p> -<p class="verse2">And seeks, by steep Buenza, Hill to crush.</p> -<p class="verse2">O’erpowering numbers urge their onward course,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Hill retires—but not till he doth hush</p> -<p class="verse2">The fire of D’Armagnac with torrent rush.</p> -<p class="verse2">By Lecumberri Soult essays a path</p> -<p class="verse2">To San Sebastian through our line to push.</p> -<p class="verse2">But eye more keenly sure great Arthur hath,</p> -<p class="verse">And breaks the foe’s design with counter-stroke of wrath.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">With rapid steps Zubiri Picton gains;</p> -<p class="verse2">His skirmishers molest Foy’s shattered flank.</p> -<p class="verse2">From Zabaldíca’s crest Foy sees the plains</p> -<p class="verse2">Strewn with the flower of many a fallen rank.</p> -<p class="verse2">But powerless he for aid—the bayonet drank</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the hill the life-blood of his corps,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where before Cole’s assault his veterans sank,</p> -<p class="verse2">While gallant Inglis down the mountain o’er</p> -<p class="verse">Clausel and Conroux falls with shock that frights them sore.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And headlong from the Sierra Byng, too, comes</p> -<p class="verse2">To where Maucune the smiling village keeps.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our cannon from the height the ear benumbs;</p> -<p class="verse2">The bullets crash where that Arcadia sleeps,</p> -<p class="verse2">And many a peasant for his Lares weeps.</p> -<p class="verse2">Along the valley booms the thunderous sound;</p> -<p class="verse2">And quivering child and pallid virgin creeps</p> -<p class="verse2">For shelter to the mountain-caves around,</p> -<p class="verse">While swells the demon-strife, and death-shot ploughs the ground.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Sauróren bridge where late great Arthur wrote</p> -<p class="verse2">His rapid mandate o’er the torrent’s fall,</p> -<p class="verse2">The deep Lanz valley by the thunder smote,</p> -<p class="verse2">The hills above, the blooming village—all</p> -<p class="verse2">Are covered o’er with dense, sulphureous pall;</p> -<p class="verse2">And musketry its sharp and rattling peal</p> -<p class="verse2">Incessant echoes ’gainst the mountain-wall.</p> -<p class="verse2">While fills the glen tumultuous shot and steel,</p> -<p class="verse">The volumed smoke can scarce the form of death reveal.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Sauróren’s won! The Gallic host is broken,</p> -<p class="verse2">And thousand prisoners own our conquering hand;</p> -<p class="verse2">Disarmed and guarded well in Victory’s token,</p> -<p class="verse2">But nobly used as fits a generous land.</p> -<p class="verse2">Gaul’s columns fly in many a scattered band</p> -<p class="verse2">To Urtiága’s pass and Ostiz’ steep,</p> -<p class="verse2">By Lusia’s sons pursued with flaming brand.</p> -<p class="verse2">But, ah, Sauróren’s maids and matrons weep,</p> -<p class="verse">For from the Virgin’s shrine did many a death-bolt leap!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">As mariners who on a stormy sea</p> -<p class="verse2">The magnet lose that guides them o’er the wave;</p> -<p class="verse2">As warriors marshalled oft to victory,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who lose the sacred banner of the brave:</p> -<p class="verse2">So with their tears these mountain-children lave</p> -<p class="verse2">Lanz’ trodden glen; for, ah, the diadem</p> -<p class="verse2">That girds the Virgin’s brow no more shall save.</p> -<p class="verse2">Death rained on Lanz beneath each sparkling gem.</p> -<p class="verse">A Madre de Dolór is Mary now to them!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Night falls around—in dark and dense defile</p> -<p class="verse2">Nial and Morton with their gallant host,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where even by daylight rarest sunbeams smile,</p> -<p class="verse2">In Leron’s frightful wilderness are lost.</p> -<p class="verse2">By frowning precipice, through crags high-tost</p> -<p class="verse2">By earthquakes old—through forests grimly black,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like ghosts they wandered, crost and then re-crost,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor pathway saw to forward move or back,</p> -<p class="verse">Nor means of exit found, nor even a desert-track.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Cheer up, my friends,” said Nial; “whom the foe</p> -<p class="verse2">“Hath ne’er made flinch the forest shall not quell.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Full many a pine-branch waves at hand to show</p> -<p class="verse2">“The way—no torch so fitly or so well.”</p> -<p class="verse2">Then many a pine-branch torn, with resinous smell</p> -<p class="verse2">Told of its fiery aliment—the flash</p> -<p class="verse2">Of muskets gave them kindling.—Through the dell,</p> -<p class="verse2">Waving on high these flaming brands they dash,</p> -<p class="verse">And to their comrades shout who tempt the forest rash.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Thus on they moved through thicket, glen, and brake,</p> -<p class="verse2">By precipice, and crag, and torrent brink,</p> -<p class="verse2">And yawning chasm that made the boldest quake,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till without end the dark ravine they think;</p> -<p class="verse2">And wildered many a foot by flaming link,</p> -<p class="verse2">That guided few save them the links who bore:</p> -<p class="verse2">Benighted thus till with fatigue they sink,</p> -<p class="verse2">Steep crag and glen profound they wandered o’er,</p> -<p class="verse">Their beacon fires alight—but none can find a shore.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And pealed their shouts incessant through the gloom,</p> -<p class="verse2">With clamour wounding the dull ear of Night,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till as in churchyards peopled grows each tomb</p> -<p class="verse2">To midnight wanderers, rose their souls to fright</p> -<p class="verse2">Infernal Phantoms! On each towering height</p> -<p class="verse2">Seemed demons sprung with torches from their den,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their footsteps to mislead with Hellish light;</p> -<p class="verse2">Till Morning rose, and showed the mount and glen</p> -<p class="verse">All strewn with faces wan and worn and wearied men.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But daylight woke their hearts to hope and joy;</p> -<p class="verse2">Refreshment needful cheered their bivouac.</p> -<p class="verse2">The column they rejoined without annoy:</p> -<p class="verse2">And there of gladness was, I ween, no lack,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where soldiers hailed their former comrades back.</p> -<p class="verse2">Now Soult by perils prest hath outlet none,</p> -<p class="verse2">Save by Maria’s pass with omens black;</p> -<p class="verse2">And swiftly, near Lizasso, Hill hath won</p> -<p class="verse">Upon his rear, unchecked by Leo’s burning sun.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">His cannon opened loud with bellowing sound,</p> -<p class="verse2">And ’neath its deadly roar the French ascend;</p> -<p class="verse2">Till near the summit of the pass they found</p> -<p class="verse2">A wood that stretched its branches to befriend.</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet see, they turn, and skirmishers defend</p> -<p class="verse2">The steep, but Stewart leads the stern assault.</p> -<p class="verse2">Soon broke their files, their menace soon doth end.</p> -<p class="verse2">Headlong they fly, and dareth none to halt—</p> -<p class="verse">But thickest mist doth fall—and leave our men at fault.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Thus Menelaüs, while his brazen spear</p> -<p class="verse2">Thirsting for Paris’ blood is brandished high,</p> -<p class="verse2">No longer sees the slender youth appear,</p> -<p class="verse2">But riseth cloud to thwart his vengeance nigh,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which Aphrodite gliding from the sky</p> -<p class="verse2">(So sings Mæonia’s bard) doth interpose;</p> -<p class="verse2">And even while glares Atrides’ conquering eye,</p> -<p class="verse2">And to his men the adulterer’s helm he throws,</p> -<p class="verse">The mist o’erspreads his form and shields from deathful blows.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But o’er the heights that gird the fearful pass</p> -<p class="verse2">Our troops are gathered soon, and France doth quake,</p> -<p class="verse2">For now the terrible defile in mass</p> -<p class="verse2">Her legions enter. Many a brow doth ache.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our warriors’ death-shots direful havoc make.</p> -<p class="verse2">They quail—they fly—confused disorder reigns.</p> -<p class="verse2">Rank upon rank doth every instant break,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor Soult’s commanding voice the rout restrains.</p> -<p class="verse">They pass, but many a captive leave to mourn his chains.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">To Yanzi now! where narrower still the cleft</p> -<p class="verse2">Which France must pass. By Zubiéta came</p> -<p class="verse2">Our Light Division, ne’er of hope bereft</p> -<p class="verse2">To reach the ground ere Gaul can thwart the aim</p> -<p class="verse2">That there full terrible her pride shall tame.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our warriors through Elgoriága glide,</p> -<p class="verse2">Fatigue exhausting many a wearied frame,</p> -<p class="verse2">And toil they faintly up the mountain-side;</p> -<p class="verse">But Morton urged their zeal, and Nial touched their pride.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Light-hearted chieftain-boys! No knapsacks they,</p> -<p class="verse2">No firelock’s weight, no full cartouches bore.</p> -<p class="verse2">The promptings of their valour they obey;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Leo’s sun in vain o’er them doth pour</p> -<p class="verse2">His maddening rays—for courage warms them more!</p> -<p class="verse2">But clambering Santa Cruz’s torrid steep,</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many a soldier fell convulsed, while gore</p> -<p class="verse2">And froth commixed their parchéd mouths o’erleap,</p> -<p class="verse">And respite found from toil in Death’s eternal sleep!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And leaned their comrades on their firelocks then,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose spirits stern had ne’er before been quelled;</p> -<p class="verse2">And muttered, “What could more be asked of men?”</p> -<p class="verse2">And for an instant’s time almost rebelled.</p> -<p class="verse2">But rose a tear to Morton’s eye, and held</p> -<p class="verse2">His forehead Nial aching at the sight</p> -<p class="verse2">Of warriors whom fatigue like death-shot felled.</p> -<p class="verse2">When saw the men their leaders felt aright,</p> -<p class="verse">A hearty cheer they gave, and scaled the fearful height.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A precipice beneath o’erhung the bridge</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Yanzi. Hurrying past the French were seen</p> -<p class="verse2">Along the dread defile. Upon the ridge</p> -<p class="verse2">His men by Morton ranged their firelocks keen</p> -<p class="verse2">Discharged. ’Mongst clustering shrubs his rifles green</p> -<p class="verse2">Did Nial gather lower down the steep.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, dire the calls of duty oft had been,</p> -<p class="verse2">But direst this! The chieftains almost weep;</p> -<p class="verse">The men avert their heads, Death’s harvest while they reap.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">For pistol-shot might reach the hastening throng,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who through the horrid chasm defenceless crowd.</p> -<p class="verse2">The wounded men on branches borne along</p> -<p class="verse2">Were flung to earth—in vain their voices loud</p> -<p class="verse2">Implored for aid, all trampled in the shroud</p> -<p class="verse2">That wrapt them blood-besmeared. Confusion dire</p> -<p class="verse2">Possest the ranks. The bravest horsemen cowed</p> -<p class="verse2">Charged up the pass to escape the avenger’s ire;</p> -<p class="verse">The footman ’gainst the hussar was forced to turn his fire.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And many a stalwart cavalier and horse</p> -<p class="verse2">Was headlong flung in Echallara’s stream,</p> -<p class="verse2">And many an ailing man was soon a corse;</p> -<p class="verse2">From many a musket fires defensive teem,</p> -<p class="verse2">Held skyward—but in vain their flashes gleam,</p> -<p class="verse2">For terrible our vantage. Some too rushed</p> -<p class="verse2">In veteran might o’er Yanzi’s bridge, and deem</p> -<p class="verse2">Our flank to gall, but soon their fire was hushed.</p> -<p class="verse">The wounded quarter sued—’twas given by conquerors flushed.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And prisoners fell by thousands in our hands,</p> -<p class="verse2">And all the convoy, treasure, spoil was our’s.</p> -<p class="verse2">At Echallar and Ivantelly stands</p> -<p class="verse2">The foe once more, and tempts the leaguering powers;</p> -<p class="verse2">But daring Barnes upon the mountain towers</p> -<p class="verse2">With lion-heart, and smites the clustering foe.</p> -<p class="verse2">Though five to one their number ’gainst us lours,</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain the arméd throng withstands the blow.</p> -<p class="verse">The fortress-crag is won—the French are hurled below.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">On Ivantelly’s giant peak they fling</p> -<p class="verse2">Their last defiance—soon their hope doth melt,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like hoar upon a sunny morn in Spring,</p> -<p class="verse2">For there our light brigades their way have felt</p> -<p class="verse2">Through mist thick gathering, as erewhile it dwelt</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon Lizasso’s brow, but not to arrest</p> -<p class="verse2">Again our footsteps. Many a blow they dealt,</p> -<p class="verse2">Though viewless fatal. Through the clouds they guest</p> -<p class="verse">The foeman’s shadowy form, and scaled the mountain’s breast.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Through misty veil that crowns the topmost crags</p> -<p class="verse2">Doth Nial with his rifles plunge amain;</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor Morton with his light battalion lags.</p> -<p class="verse2">Gaul’s chosen grenadiers Clausel with pain</p> -<p class="verse2">Sees from the mist emerging to the plain.</p> -<p class="verse2">Sharp rings the rifle;—with sonorous roll</p> -<p class="verse2">The musketry less keen replies—in vain!</p> -<p class="verse2">Disordered France retires, and rends the pole</p> -<p class="verse">Our shout victorious raised—the peak is Glory’s goal!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Pyrene’s won! Upon the tallest crest</p> -<p class="verse2">Did Nial, Morton mark with fond embrace</p> -<p class="verse2">The crowning victory. Why together rest</p> -<p class="verse2">Their eyes, the mist now melted, on that place</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath? Ye Powers! It is great Arthur’s face.</p> -<p class="verse2">The flying French have eyed him too where o’er</p> -<p class="verse2">His mountain charts, and plans of war the base,</p> -<p class="verse2">With escort small intently he doth pore,</p> -<p class="verse">And none suspects the prize the foemen swift explore.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Rushed Nial, Morton madly down the steep</p> -<p class="verse2">In generous rivalry who first should reach</p> -<p class="verse2">To avert the peril. Roelike was each leap</p> -<p class="verse2">From crag to crag—they are come—the danger teach,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which Arthur learns with gracious smile to each.</p> -<p class="verse2">Swift to his charger strong the Chieftain springs:</p> -<p class="verse2">The Frenchmen’s bullets whistle vain as Speech</p> -<p class="verse2">Where Action’s wanting. See, his steed hath wings;</p> -<p class="verse">And safe is he whose fate had sealed the doom of Kings!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Strove Arthur long to learn which youth he owed</p> -<p class="verse2">For safety and deliverance gratitude;</p> -<p class="verse2">But Nial said ’twas Morton forward strode</p> -<p class="verse2">The first, and Morton urged that Nial viewed</p> -<p class="verse2">The peril soonest—Friendship’s generous feud!</p> -<p class="verse2">Where each desired that each the prize should hoard;</p> -<p class="verse2">And eyes that witnessed it were tear-bedewed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur gave each noble youth a sword,</p> -<p class="verse">That bore his mighty name—magnificent reward!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But thirsteth Pride for San Sebastian’s towers,</p> -<p class="verse2">For foiled one effort to surmount her wall;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Death that sweeps each host had swept down our’s</p> -<p class="verse2">A moon before in numbers to appal.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis Honour’s voice, then, bids each bastion fall;</p> -<p class="verse2">Such man’s decree! The galleries swift advance.</p> -<p class="verse2">A triple mine upheaves the firm sea-wall</p> -<p class="verse2">With fierce sulphureous shock. Rocks heavenward dance</p> -<p class="verse">To ope our troops a path against the sons of France.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And pant for glory ’midst their brave compeers</p> -<p class="verse2">Nial and Morton—keen as curbéd steed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Though soft their souls in love to melt in tears,</p> -<p class="verse2">In war they could unmoved see hundreds bleed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Of passionate fervour was their patriot creed,</p> -<p class="verse2">And next to Heaven they loved their native land.</p> -<p class="verse2">With Blanca there to fly, when Spain was freed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Before the frowning wall young Morton planned,</p> -<p class="verse">And murmur thus his lips while waits his eager band:—</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">The Glory of Islands.</p> - - -<p class="canto">1.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Forbid the linnet from its nest,</p> -<p class="verse2">And crush its homeward aspirations—</p> -<p class="verse">As vain to chide the heaving breast,</p> -<p class="verse2">And woo repose in foreign nations!</p> -<p class="verse">No, England, no! beyond the foam,</p> -<p class="verse2">Around thy beauteous shore that circles,</p> -<p class="verse">I would not fix my lasting home</p> -<p class="verse2">For every gem that brightest sparkles!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">2.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">More cloudless bend Italian skies;</p> -<p class="verse2">Burgundian fruits more richly cluster;</p> -<p class="verse">Iberia’s slopes more gently rise,</p> -<p class="verse2">And shine her stars with purer lustre.</p> -<p class="verse">O’er Adria’s coast, o’er fair Stamboul,</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er soft Mæonia show’rs more splendour.</p> -<p class="verse">Out, sunk ’neath Slavery’s abject rule!</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis <em>thou</em> art Freedom’s grand defender!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">3.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Far sunnier Isles the South make glad,</p> -<p class="verse2">From Palma’s gulf to the Ægean;</p> -<p class="verse">Idalia rose and myrtle clad,</p> -<p class="verse2">Sicilian shores, and bowers Dictæan;</p> -<p class="verse">The Cyclades that shine to snare,</p> -<p class="verse2">From Lemnos old to Rhodes romantic;</p> -<p class="verse">And far Funchál, whose balmy air</p> -<p class="verse2">Swells earth’s best vine ’mid the Atlantic.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">4.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">But, oh loved land! what magic lifts</p> -<p class="verse2">Thee high above all rival glory,</p> -<p class="verse">Fills up the void of Nature’s gifts,</p> -<p class="verse2">And makes thy deeds the pride of story?</p> -<p class="verse">What charm endues thy talisman,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou chrysolite amid the waters,</p> -<p class="verse">And deifies the power of man?</p> -<p class="verse2">The genius of thy sons and daughters!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">5.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">The vigorous thought, the spirit firm,</p> -<p class="verse2">The pride of truth, the deep devotion,</p> -<p class="verse">The labouring head and stalwart arm,</p> -<p class="verse2">That crown thee Queen of Earth and Ocean!</p> -<p class="verse">That clothe with grain thy rugged steeps,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy factory piles make teem prolific,</p> -<p class="verse">And man the fleet each sea that sweeps</p> -<p class="verse2">To make its trembling shores pacific.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">6.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Illustrious land! Yet more than this,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou harbourest all life’s solid graces—</p> -<p class="verse">No fiends that murder with a kiss—</p> -<p class="verse2">No treacherous breasts ’neath smiling faces!</p> -<p class="verse">Oh! still be thine the bold, the true,</p> -<p class="verse2">The honest, manly, independent;</p> -<p class="verse">In mind, in heart, in sinew, too,</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er every other land transcendent!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Nor slow was Rey the city to defend,</p> -<p class="verse2">Exhausting all the arts that War supplies.</p> -<p class="verse2">A yawning chasm within the breach doth end;</p> -<p class="verse2">Loopholed with fire a counterwall defies</p> -<p class="verse2">Approach;—where’er the rampart broken lies,</p> -<p class="verse2">A traverse cuts it off—the streets are trenched;</p> -<p class="verse2">Mines trebly charged prepare to blot the skies</p> -<p class="verse2">With shattered limb, and head from shoulder wrenched,</p> -<p class="verse">Of him who dares the assault, yet not a cheek is blenched!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And strongest whetstone of fierce Valour’s edge</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy name, Napoléon! For thee would dare</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy Guard to leap adown Destruction’s ledge,</p> -<p class="verse2">For thee would scoff in mockery of Despair!</p> -<p class="verse2">Genius and energy thou well couldst share</p> -<p class="verse2">With all thy Chiefs, and courage give thy men,</p> -<p class="verse2">That scorned to yield with life their lion-lair.</p> -<p class="verse2">A barbarous strife thou didst require—what then?</p> -<p class="verse">The last Barbarian thou that rushed from Scythian den!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Meteor of Conquest! terribly endowed</p> -<p class="verse2">With every faculty to bless or mar,</p> -<p class="verse2">With voice to speak to Man like trumpet loud,</p> -<p class="verse2">And eagle-eye with ken for peace or war</p> -<p class="verse2">Omnipotent, save when Heaven dealt the scar!</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy course for bale that might have been for bliss,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy darling Victory streamed a crimson star.</p> -<p class="verse2">Around thy laurelled forehead serpents hiss;</p> -<p class="verse">And closed thy glory’s dawn, Destroyer, choice like this!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XLII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Trampler on Human Liberty! Thy plan</p> -<p class="verse2">Embraced no welfare save thine own; thy aim</p> -<p class="verse2">A pyramid—each stone a sword-hewn man,—</p> -<p class="verse2">Rivers of blood o’er Earth to write thy name.</p> -<p class="verse2">Gigantic was thy crime—as great thy shame!</p> -<p class="verse2">Even now with gory talon to the North</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou fliest, the elements but canst not tame;</p> -<p class="verse2">And there, to teach the peaceful victor’s worth,</p> -<p class="verse">Men rigid as their frosts have sent thee howling forth!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Scourge of the Nations! thy appointed time</p> -<p class="verse2">Is near its close—exhausted is thy quiver.</p> -<p class="verse2">Vain is thy complex thought, thy grasp sublime;</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor whirlwind, plague, nor tyrant lasts for ever!</p> -<p class="verse2">Couldst thou not from the ground one blade dissever</p> -<p class="verse2">Of joyous herbage, save with butchering steel,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor give one glory to the Eternal Giver?</p> -<p class="verse2">Couldst thou but wound that mightst so nobly heal?</p> -<p class="verse">I see thy end begin—for Man thou didst not feel!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And yet France loved thee—loved thy daring flight,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy mighty genius—thy creative power;</p> -<p class="verse2">The soldier’s idol and the hind’s delight—</p> -<p class="verse2">For ’twas the people made thee like a tower</p> -<p class="verse2">That topt all Nations! In thy happier hour</p> -<p class="verse2">A glorious code thou gav’st. Thy sway was just</p> -<p class="verse2">To France—thy monuments a deathless dower.</p> -<p class="verse2">No luxury turned thy energies to rust.</p> -<p class="verse">A Conqueror why become? why serve Ambition’s lust?</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> - -<p class="canto">XLV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What are thy mightiest triumphs? Pages torn</p> -<p class="verse2">From bloodiest records. What thy phalanx armed?</p> -<p class="verse2">Assassins. Thy parade of Conquest? Shorn</p> -<p class="verse2">Of glare deceptive, plunder. Earth alarmed</p> -<p class="verse2">Saw the career, that dazzled it and charmed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Sunk in fell Tyranny. Thy potent rays,</p> -<p class="verse2">Melting all fetters, might have millions warmed</p> -<p class="verse2">With Freedom. Thou didst forge, to fiends’ amaze,</p> -<p class="verse">New shackles for thy kind. Let Hell eclipse thy blaze!</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO III.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p>This Canto describes the battles of Sauroren on the Pyrenees, -with the leading incidents in the minor combats of Buenza, Doña -Maria, Echallar and Ivantelly which followed. The first battle -of Sauroren took place on the 28th July, 1813, the fourth anniversary -of the battle of Talavera, and was remarkable for the -extraordinary valour displayed by the French under Soult, which, -having obtained a slight success at Buenza, they repeated with -almost frantic efforts at Echallar and Ivantelly on the 2nd August, -their principal object being to relieve San Sebastian. But in vain. -Lord Wellington described the first of these actions as “bludgeon -work.” The loss on both sides was very considerable; but it was -here demonstrated by our soldiers, in the words of Napier “that -their opponents however strongly posted could not stand before -them.” The actions will be found detailed in his History, book xxi. -chap. 5.</p> - -<p>The incident of the defence of the mountain top by flinging -down rocks, is taken from the previous combat, where it occurred -as described by Napier in the following words: “The British, -shrunk in numbers, also wanted ammunition, and a part of the -eighty-second under Major Fitzgerald was forced to roll down -stones to defend the rocks on which they were posted.” (<cite>Hist. ibid.</cite>) -The allusions to Sisyphus and to Ajax will I trust be excused. It -is difficult to exaggerate such incidents. There was surely something -Titanic in the character of this Pyrenean warfare.</p> - -<p>The Spanish regiment which gave way towards the end of the -battle (the poor soldiers were starved by their miserable commissariat) -was that of El Pravia, which was stationed on the left of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -the fortieth, and the latter regiment justly styled by Napier the -“invincible” victoriously concluded the combat. “Four times -this assault was renewed, and the French officers were seen to pull -up their tired men by the belts, so fierce and resolute they were to -win. It was, however the labour of Sisyphus.” (Napier, <em>ibid.</em>) The -cavalry engagement was maintained by our tenth and eighteenth -hussars. I occasionally detach my heroes, Nial and Morton, to -other infantry corps for poetic effect.</p> - -<p>The terrible scene at the bridge of Yanzi is described by Captain -Cooke in his <cite>Memoirs</cite> as follows:—“We overlooked the enemy -at stone’s throw, and from the summit of a tremendous precipice. -The river separated us, but the French were wedged in a narrow -road with inaccessible rocks on one side and the river on the other. -Confusion impossible to describe followed, the wounded were -thrown down in the rush and trampled upon, the cavalry drew -their swords and endeavoured to charge up the pass of Echallar, -but the infantry beat them back; and several, horses and all, were -precipitated into the river; some fired vertically at us, the wounded -called out for quarter, while others pointed to them supported as -they were on branches of trees, on which were suspended great -coats clotted with gore, and blood-stained sheets taken from -different habitations to aid the sufferers.”</p> - -<p>The incident of extricating Wellington by the agency of Nial -and Morton from his imminent peril of falling into the hands of -the French is taken from the following passage at the end of -Napier’s description of the combat of Ivantelly: “Lord Wellington -narrowly escaped the enemy’s hands. He had carried with him -towards Echallar half a company of the forty-third as an escort, -and placed a sergeant named Blood with a party to watch in front -while he examined his maps. The French who were close at hand -sent a detachment to cut the party off; and such was the nature -of the ground that their troops, rushing on at speed, would infallibly -have fallen unawares upon Lord Wellington, if Blood, a young -intelligent man, seeing the danger, had not with surprising activity, -leaping rather than running down the precipitous rocks he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -posted on, given the general notice, and as it was the French arrived -in time to send a volley of shot after him as he galloped away.” -(<cite>Hist.</cite> book xxi. c. 5.)</p> - -<p>The prodigies accomplished by our Peninsular veterans, of which -this and the preceding Canto fall short in the narration, need -little attestation. But here is the testimony of one of Napoléon’s -Generals:—“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Bien que leurs corps soient robustes, leurs ames -énergiques, et leurs esprits industrieux,</span>” &c. (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre. -Pénins.</cite> liv. ii.) “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Le Prince-Noir et Talbot étaient nés dans Albion. -Marlborough et ses douze mille soldats n’avaient pas été les moins -redoutables ennemis de Louis XIV. * * Nos soldats revenus -d’Egypte disaient à leurs camarades la valeur indomptée des -Anglais. Il n’etait pas besoin d’une réflexion profonde pour -déviner que l’ambition, la capacité, et le courage sont bons à autre -chose qu’à être embarqués sur des vaisseaux.</span>” (<em>Ibid.</em>) “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Leur -humeur inquiète et voyageuse les rend propres á la vie errante des -guerriers, et ils possèdent une qualité, la plus précieuse de toutes -sur les champs de bataille, le calme dans la colère. * * Telle est -la puissance Anglaise. C’est Bonaparte en action, mais Bonaparte -toujours jeune et toujours vigoureux, Bonaparte persévérant dans sa -passion, Bonaparte immortel.</span>” (<em>Ibid.</em>) “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Le soldat Anglais ... -son corps est robuste. Son ame est vigoureuse, parceque son père -lui a dit et ses chefs lui répétent sans cesse que les enfants de la -vieille Angleterre, abreuvés de <em>porter</em> et rassasiés de bœuf roti, -valent chacun pour le moins trois individus de ces races pygmées -qui végètent sur le continent d’Europe. * * Il marche en avant. -Dans l’action, il ne regarde pas à droite ni à gauche.</span>” (<em>Ibid.</em>)</p> - -<p>The brilliancy of our cavalry service is equally acknowledged, -though French military writers strive sometimes to mock it, -very ineffectually, as in the following example; “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Dans la retraite -de la Corogne, les corps de cavalerie faisaient halte; le chef commandait: -<em>Pied à terre; prenez vos pistolets</em>; et à un troisième -commandement, chaque cavalier brûlait la cervelle à son cheval en -un temps et deux mouvements.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre. Pénins.</cite> -liv. ii.)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> - -<p>In illustration of the character of Napoléon, of which I have -attempted some analysis in this Canto, I have drawn together a -few striking passages from the most eminent military writers of -England and France, Napier and Foy:—</p> - -<p>“That greatest of all masters of the art of war.” (Napier, <cite>Hist. -War in the Penins.</cite> book xxiv. chap. 6.) “In following up a -victory the English general fell short of the French emperor. The -battle of Wellington was the stroke of a battering ram, down went -the wall in ruins. The battle of Napoléon was the swell and dash -of a mighty wave, before which the barrier yielded and the roaring -flood poured onwards covering all.” (<em>Ibid.</em>) “That successful -improvisation in which Napoléon seems to have surpassed all -mankind.” (<em>Ibid.</em>)</p> - -<p>“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Vaincre et trouver des instruments de victoire était le travail -de sa vie.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre. Pénins.</cite> liv. i. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Caractère de -Napoléon.</i>)</p> - -<p>“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Jamais esprit plus profondément meditatif ne fut plus fécond -en illuminations rapides et soudaines.</span>” (<em>Ibid.</em>)</p> - -<p>“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Toujours prêt à combattre, habituellement il choisissait l’occasion -et le terrain. Il a donné quarante batailles pour huit ou dix qu’il a -reçues.</span>” (<em>Ibid.</em>)</p> - -<p>“Napoléon’s system of war was admirably adapted to draw -forth and augment the military excellence and to strengthen the -weakness of the national character. His discipline, severe but -appealing to the feelings of hope and honour, wrought the quick -temperament of the French soldiers to patience under hardship, -and strong endurance under fire. * * He thus made his troops, -not invincible indeed, nature had put a bar to that in the character -of the British soldier, but so terrible and sure in war that the -number and greatness of their exploits surpassed those of all other -nations.” (Napier, <cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> book xxiv. chap. 6.)</p> - -<p>“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ce n’est pas avec les règles de Montécuculli et de Turenne -manœuvrant sur la Renchen qu’il faut juger de telles entreprises. -Les uns guerroyaient pour avoir tel ou tel quartier d’hiver; l’autre, -pour conquérir le monde. Il lui fallait souvent non pas seulement<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -gagner une bataille, mats la gagner de telle façon qu’elle épouvantât -l’Europe et amenât des résultats gigantesques. Ainsi les vues -politiques intervenaient sans cesse dans le génie stratégique. * * -Quelque habile qu’on soit, il y a presque toujours dans ce jeu -terrible des risques proportionnés à la grandeur des profits. Le -succès est devenu plus chanceux. Les armées étaient plus nombreuses. -Ses ennemis, à son exemple, ont eu aussi des masses. * * -La machine n’était plus maniable; il a été écrasé.</span>” (Foy, liv. i.)</p> - -<p>Napoléon’s was a game of double or quits played with the -hardihood of a determined gambler. The value of the stakes became -multiplied with alarming rapidity, as in the arithmetical problem -of the horse-shoe-nails. All the military population and resources -of the empire became involved in the chances of the die, and he -lost the last throw.</p> - -<p>General Foy narrates the following anecdote. He was probably -himself the interlocutor: “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Dans la campagne de France, aux premiers -mois de 1814, Napoléon parlait à Troyes en Champagne, -avec un de ses généraux, de l’état des choses. ‘Les ennemis, disait -celui-ci, sont trop nombreux; il faut que la France se lève’—‘Eh! -comment voulez-vous que la France se lève, interrompit -avec vivacité Napoléon; il n’y a pas de noblesse, <em>et j’ai tué la -liberté!</em>’”</span></p> - -<p>Of the love which the French people bore to Napoléon, let his -march to Cannes be a witness, where the inhabitants, as he passed, -surrounded him in hundreds of thousands with unmistakeable demonstrations -of blind enthusiasm and delight. Not even the terrible -conscription could rase his impression from their hearts. -The general equity of his internal administration, the exact system -of his public accounts, the effectual discharge of duty which -he required of the state servants, the abolition of idle privileged -classes, and the cessation of fraud in the management of the revenue -or its punishment when detected, caused the people to love him as -they everywhere love justice. Napoléon, with all his other splendid -faculties, was a skilful financier; he was opposed to public loans, -and left no debt. He had no private views, and his active energies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -were unimpaired in his vassals’ service. The utility of his public -works was commensurate with their grandeur, providing at once -employment for the poor and embellishment for the country. His -Code was a monument of legislative wisdom, and his Cadastre an -invaluable equalizer and register of taxation and the liabilities of -property. But withal he was a detestable tyrant.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">II.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Such stone immense as feigned Æolides<br /> -<span class="pad7">In Orcus tortured flung.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>The epithet “feigned” is imitated from Milton’s treatment of -similar subjects. But Milton was not at all uniform in his treatment; -and therefore having paid this tribute to the truth of Christianity -and entered by this word my protest against the fables of Polytheism, -I do not think it necessary, any more than Milton did, to -be perpetually marring poetical effects by intimating that comparisons -are derived from fictitious subjects. Thus in the finest -book of <cite>Paradise Lost</cite>, the second, all the Greek and Roman fables -are introduced with excellent effect, and without any intimation -that they are apocryphal. Thus</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate, &c.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>P.L.</cite> ii. 577.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards</p> -<p class="verse">The ford.</p> -<p class="verse16"><em>Ib.</em> ii. 611.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse8">——The water flies</p> -<p class="verse">All taste of living wight, as once it fled</p> -<p class="verse">The lip of Tantalus.</p> -<p class="verse16"><em>Ib.</em> ii. 612.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">A cry of Hell-hounds never-ceasing barked</p> -<p class="verse">With wide Cerberean mouths.</p> -<p class="verse16"><em>Ib.</em> ii. 654.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“It rolleth bounding with gigantic ease.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Καὶ μὴν Σίσυφον εἰσεῖδον, κρατέρ’ ἄλγε’ ἔχοντα,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Λᾶαν βαστάζοντα πελώριον ἀμφοτέρῃσιν·</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἦτοι ὁ μὲν, σκηριπτόμενος χερσὶν τε ποσὶν τε. κ. τ. λ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Od.</cite> xi. 592.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">The fine dactylic verse which follows, and which Dionysius of -Halicarnassus so highly commends, is wonderfully descriptive of -the bounding of a huge stone down a mountain:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Αὖτις ἔπειτα πέδονδε κυλίνδετο λᾶας ἀναιδὴς.</p> -<p class="verse16"> -<ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'Hom. Od. xi. 592'">Hom. <cite>Od.</cite> xi. 598.</ins></p> -</div></div> - -<p>Notwithstanding the numerous and highly celebrated attempts -of Pope and Dryden at onomatopœiac effects in English iambic -lines, I think Thomson has surpassed them both in the following -line from what Byron justly pronounces one of the very finest -poems in the English language:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">“Down thunders back the stone with mighty sweep!”</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Castle of Indolence</cite>, cant. i.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">III.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Full many a rock’s Aiantine volume rolled.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Δεῦτερος αὖτ’ Αἴας πολύ μείζονα λᾶαν ἀείρας.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Il.</cite> vii. 268.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Their powerful hands this rude artillery hold.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Others with vast Typhœan rage more fell</p> -<p class="verse">Rend up both rocks and hills.</p> -<p class="verse16">—Milt. <cite>Par. Lost.</cite> ii. 539.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>Typhœus was one of the Titans who warred against Heaven.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And charging through the valley shakes the field<br /> -<span class="pad7">With thunderous gallop.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Debaixo dos pés duros dos ardentes</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Cavallos treme a terra, as valles soam.</p> -<p class="verse16">Camóens, <cite>Lus.</cite> iv. 31.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Our fiery squadrons. * *<br /> -<span class="pad7">They bathe their swords in blood at every bound.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Wolauf, ihr kecken streiter!</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Wolauf, ihr deutschen reiter!</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Wird euch das herz nicht warm?</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nehmt’s liebchen in den arm—</p> -<p class="verse16" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Hurrah!</p> -<p class="verse16">Körner, <cite>Schwertlied</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Well up, ye fearless fighters!</p> -<p class="verse">Well-up, ye Saxon riders!</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, grows not each heart warm,</p> -<p class="verse2">The loved one on his arm?</p> -<p class="verse12">Hurrah!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">IX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Oh, generous, strong, and fleet are England’s steeds.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ὕμνον ὀρθώσας, ἀκαμαντοπόδων</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἵππων ἄωτον.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Olymp.</cite> iii.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“I will hymn the praise of the flower of foot-weariless horses.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XX.</span><span class="pad8"> </span> —“On each towering height<br /> -<span class="pad6">Seemed demons sprung with torches from their den.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse12" lang="de" xml:lang="de">—Auf den mondschein folgen trüber,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Dämm’rung schatten; wüstenthiere jagen aufgeschreckt vorüber.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Schnaubend bäumen sich die pferde; unser führer greift zur fahne;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Sie entsinkt ihm, und er murmelt: “Herr, die Geisterkaravane!”</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Freiligrath.</cite></p> -</div></div> - -<p>“After the moonshine follow the dark twilight-shades; the wild -animals fly past affrighted, the horses rear up snorting; our leader -clutches at the standard—it sinks from him, and he murmurs: -‘Lord, the ghostly-caravan!’”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Refreshment needful cheered their bivouac.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Poichè de’ cibi il natural amore</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Fú in lor ripresso e l’importuna sete.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, <cite>Gerus. Lib.</cite> xi. 17.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “But thickest mist doth fall, and leave our men at fault.”<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent">(Combat of Dona Maria.) “A thick fog prevented further pursuit, -and the loss of the French in the action is unknown.”<br /> -<span class="pad16">Napier, <cite>Hist.</cite> book xxi. c. 5.</span> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Thus Menelaüs, while his brazen spear, &c.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Αὐτὰρ ὁ ἂψ ἐπόρουσε κατακτάμεναι μενεαίνων</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἔγχεϊ χαλκείῳ· τὸν δ’ ἐξήρπαξ’ Ἀφροδίτη</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ῥεῖα μὰλ’, ὥστε θεός· ἐκάλυψε δ’ ἄρ’ ἠέρι πολλῇ·</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Il.</cite> iii. 379.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>I trust it will not be deemed irreverent to observe, by way of -anticipative answer to any critic who in his wisdom may condemn -this Homeric allusion, that, as the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Deus ex machinâ</i> is not mine, -I do not stand sponsor for Venus, and that the notion of a Frenchman -in a fog quite naturally suggested <em>Paris</em>.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Clambering Santa Cruz’s torrid steep.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">—Gravis exustos æstus hiulcat agros.</p> -<p class="verse16">Catul. lxvi.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> ——“Friendship’s generous feud!<br /> -<span class="pad6">Where each desired that each the prize should hoard.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὦ λῆμ’ ἄριστον, ὡς ἀπ’ εὐγενοῦς τινος</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ῥίζης πέφυκας, τοῖς φίλοις τ’ ὀρθῶς φίλος.</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Iph. in Taur.</cite> 609.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Oh, excellent mind, from some noble root thou art sprung, for -thou art truly a friend to thy friend!”</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Great Arthur gave each noble youth a sword.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The Duke of Wellington presented his sword to Sir Henry (now -Lord) Hardinge after the Battle of Waterloo.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And next to Heaven he loved his native land.<br /> -<span class="pad9">With Blanca there to fly when Spain was free,” &c.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><span lang="es" xml:lang="es">Mas el amor de la mujer y de la patria, pues como dicen: <em>de dó -eres, hombre?</em> tiraron por mi.—Mendoza,</span> <cite lang="es" xml:lang="es">Lazarillo de Tormes</cite>.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Thy course for bale that might have been for bliss.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Then were I brought from bale to blisse,</p> -<p class="verse2">No lenger wold I lye.</p> -<p class="verse16">Romance of “Sir Cauline.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">For now this day thou art my bale.</p> -<p class="verse8">Romance of “Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne.”</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="enm" xml:lang="enm">Jhesue Christ our balys bete</p> -<p class="verse" lang="enm" xml:lang="enm">And to the blys us brynge!</p> -<p class="verse16">The original “Chevy Chase.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p>The origin of the words “bliss” and “bless” is identical.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Scourge of the nations! thy appointed time<br /> -<span class="pad8">Is near its close—exhausted is thy quiver.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>The certainty of the doom that awaits unjust violence is finely -expressed by Pindar:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Βία δὲ καὶ μεγάλαυχον ἔσφα-</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">λεν ἐν χρόνῳ. Τυφὼς Κίλιξ ἑκατόγκρα-</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">νος οὔ μιν ἄλυξεν,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ὀυδὲ μὰν βασιλεὺς Γιγάντων.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Δμᾶθεν δὲ κεραυνῷ,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">τόξοισί τ’ ἀπόλλωνος.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Pyth.</cite> viii.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“But Violence mineth the proud in time. Cilician Typhos -with his hundred heads escaped not its effects, nor the King of the -Giants himself. They were slain by the thunder (of Jove) and -the shafts of Apollo!” The “King of the Giants” is <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'Porphyrio'">Porphyrion</ins>, -who carried off the herd of Hercules, and appears to have originated -the plan to scale Olympus. Typhos is better known by the names -Typhon and Typhœus. Pindar is perpetually alluding to the -combats of the Titans, and they impart a matchless sublimity to -his poetry, which in this quality surpasses Homer.</p> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto IV.</h2> - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">There is one earthly Love, and one alone,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which free from penalty all, all may share;</p> -<p class="verse2">A passion pure, sublime, of loftiest tone,</p> -<p class="verse2">In whose proud service Man may blameless dare</p> -<p class="verse2">All that the heart inspires which scorns to wear</p> -<p class="verse2">A chain—’tis Love of Country! This the power</p> -<p class="verse2">That levels all distinctions—’midst despair</p> -<p class="verse2">Upraising prostrate nations to a tower,—</p> -<p class="verse">The flame that kindles men to Gods in peril’s hour!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Who’s noble? He that bears a scutcheon? He</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose lineage can be traced to mailéd Knights,</p> -<p class="verse2">That with the Bastard came from Normandy?</p> -<p class="verse2">He that in lacqueys and in hounds delights?</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose fathers jousted in Plantagenet fights?—</p> -<p class="verse2">Have not all battled with the roaring Flood?</p> -<p class="verse2">Noble is he who honours, Man, thy rights,</p> -<p class="verse2">Sustains thy dignity, is truthful, good;</p> -<p class="verse">Kings have I known more base than bondsman e’er hath stood!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Hath not the humblest hands, eyes, feeling, thought</p> -<p class="verse2">Like your’s, strength, weakness, tears and laughter’s dower?</p> -<p class="verse2">The bruted serf hath Poland’s serfdom wrought;</p> -<p class="verse2">For when to strike for Freedom comes the hour,</p> -<p class="verse2">He strikes his lords! At home let Tyrants cower</p> -<p class="verse2">In field, or factory, mountain, mine, or glen.</p> -<p class="verse2">Where’er the weak are crushed by ruffian power,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where’er the poor are slighted, where the pen</p> -<p class="verse">Can reach Oppression, there shall pierce the rights of Men!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Labour shall have Justice. Peasant arms,</p> -<p class="verse2">The implements of peace or war that wield,</p> -<p class="verse2">Shall not, of Fame defrauded and its charms,</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Right be too defrauded and the shield</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Liberty! In ploughed or battle field,</p> -<p class="verse2">His hire shall be the guerdon, not the mite</p> -<p class="verse2">Flung by proud scorn! His wrongs shall yet be healed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Who Badajoz, Ciudád, Sebastian’s height</p> -<p class="verse">Could scale shall have his share of glory and of right!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What were thy mural crowns, bellipotent Rome,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy gold-beat turrets for the daring head,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy vallar circlets given for mounted dome</p> -<p class="verse2">And rampart, wreaths obsidional that shed</p> -<p class="verse2">Their grass-green light than gold more coveted?</p> -<p class="verse2">What thy triumphal bays for glory’s brow,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy oval myrtle where no Roman bled,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy civic garland of the oaken bough?</p> -<p class="verse">Their sound one City filled—the World beholds us now!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Not Spain, not Spain doth tamely bear the yoke,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her sturdy peasants the Guerrillas swell,</p> -<p class="verse2">And, see, where gather ’neath Guerníca’s oak</p> -<p class="verse2">Her passionate sons to list the tuneful shell</p> -<p class="verse2">Which ’neath its shade a maiden strikes so well.</p> -<p class="verse2">One hand alone the loud guitarra wakes</p> -<p class="verse2">So potently: ’tis Blanca gives the spell!</p> -<p class="verse2">Through every pause the Basque pandéro breaks,</p> -<p class="verse">And Blanca thus i’ th’ crowd each nerve and fibre shakes:—</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Biscayan bondsmen!—for ’tis bonds ye wear,</p> -<p class="verse2">While stalks the proud invader o’er your soil;</p> -<p class="verse2">Methinks, ’tis said Cantabrian blood ye share,</p> -<p class="verse2">Methinks, ’tis said that vain was Roman toil</p> -<p class="verse2">To bend your stubborn hearts within its coil!</p> -<p class="verse2">But this, forsooth, was thousand years ago.</p> -<p class="verse2">Were your’s Cantabrian blood, ’twould surely boil,</p> -<p class="verse2">To see Cantabria’s glory laid so low.</p> -<p class="verse">Why yes, the Frenchman, sure, excels the Roman foe!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Biscayan bondsmen! patience is your cure</p> -<p class="verse2">For all their slights and scoffs—by Heaven’s behest.</p> -<p class="verse2">Lives there a bustard on your hills to endure</p> -<p class="verse2">A foreign vulture in its cuckoo nest?</p> -<p class="verse2">Perchance your nests are warmer—ye know best!</p> -<p class="verse2">Not bustards dwell upon each mountain peak,</p> -<p class="verse2">But royal eagles none may dare molest,</p> -<p class="verse2">For piercing are their talons, sharp their beak—</p> -<p class="verse">’Tis Biscay’s men alone are pliable and meek!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“’Tis said and sung—but History doubtless lies—</p> -<p class="verse2">That great Fernando here and Isabel,</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath this aged oak, these mountain skies,</p> -<p class="verse2">Swore to maintain Biscaya’s rights full well.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis said that those who lived where now ye dwell—</p> -<p class="verse2">I did not say your fathers—with their swords</p> -<p class="verse2">Won and preserved their fuéros from the fell</p> -<p class="verse2">Assaults of native tyrants—idle words!</p> -<p class="verse">Ye know the fuéros melt i’ th’ breath of foreign lords.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“’Tis said Biscaya’s lawgivers of old</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath this venerable Druid shade,</p> -<p class="verse2">Ancestral lord, and priest, and peasant bold,</p> -<p class="verse2">Met in due time and firmest fuéros made.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis said—but chronicling’s a lying trade—</p> -<p class="verse2">That hearts of oak beneath this oak did meet</p> -<p class="verse2">To guard the old Basque freedom. Undecayed</p> -<p class="verse2">The oak is still, and hark what voices sweet,</p> -<p class="verse">As from Dodona’s, bid the Basque his deeds repeat!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“’Tis said this Spanish soil once men did rear,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whom Rome and Carthage trembled to oppose.</p> -<p class="verse2">Sagunthus, and Numance, and Bilbil here</p> -<p class="verse2">Terrific bulwarks in their pathway rose,</p> -<p class="verse2">Ere yielding crushed by self-destroying blows!</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis said Viriatus the Guerrilla storm</p> -<p class="verse2">Poured from the mountains first ’gainst Roman foes,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Sylla and Pompey smote Sertorius warm,</p> -<p class="verse">Till treachery triumphed. Gaul’s complacent slaves <em>ye</em> form!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“’Tis said Bernardo with resistless lance</p> -<p class="verse2">At Roncesvalles Roland’s prowess crushed,</p> -<p class="verse2">When Carlomain for this same haughty France</p> -<p class="verse2">Claimed Leon’s crown, and down Pyrene rushed.</p> -<p class="verse2">There Roland’s blood with many a Peer’s, too, gushed!</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis said that more than this e’en Spaniards did,</p> -<p class="verse2">When bold Ruy Diaz on Bavieca, flushed</p> -<p class="verse2">With victory, led the Oca hills amid</p> -<p class="verse">Five Moorish Kings who long paid tribute to the Cid!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“I see the warrior-boy on gallant steed</p> -<p class="verse2">Spur to the battle proudly o’er the plain,</p> -<p class="verse2">His eye resolved to make the Moslem bleed,—</p> -<p class="verse2">His bounding bosom scorns to wear a chain!</p> -<p class="verse2">His lance in rest, his armour without stain,</p> -<p class="verse2">He panteth for the mêlée hand to hand;</p> -<p class="verse2">Enough his guerdon that he strikes for Spain.</p> -<p class="verse2">Wo to the hostile ranks that dare to stand</p> -<p class="verse">Before that fiery Chief’s dread lance and lightning brand!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Such Spaniards were—in days long past away—</p> -<p class="verse2">Who drove the Invader forth, nor asked for aid.</p> -<p class="verse2">I need not speak what Spaniards are to-day.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, let not Britons thus the Basque o’ershade.</p> -<p class="verse2">At least be drawn Bilbáo’s trusty blade!”—</p> -<p class="verse2">Flushed many a cheek, “<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Las armas!</i>” was the cry.</p> -<p class="verse2">With hasty-buckled swords the high-souled maid,</p> -<p class="verse2">And firelocks true, soon saw them gathering nigh,</p> -<p class="verse">And ’neath the sacred oak flashed many a warlike eye:</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">The Gathering.</p> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse4">“These be my countrymen (she said);</p> -<p class="verse4">Spain, thy spirit is not dead!</p> -<p class="verse4">When the kite shall grasp the thunder,</p> -<p class="verse4">France shall bring thy spirit under;</p> -<p class="verse4">When upheaved is Roncesvalles,</p> -<p class="verse4">France shall hold Alphonso’s palace.</p> -<p class="verse4">When forgotten is Pavía,</p> -<p class="verse6">When unwrit her annals all,</p> -<p class="verse4">Then shall Spain consent to be a</p> -<p class="verse8">Province for the Gaul!</p> -<p class="verse9">Hoist the standard</p> -<p class="verse10">Of Hesperia;</p> -<p class="verse9">Ne’er hath pandered</p> -<p class="verse10">Celtiberia!</p> -<p class="verse9">Greatly dare,</p> -<p class="verse9">Till free as air;</p> -<p class="verse9">Firm as rock,</p> -<p class="verse9">Withstand the shock!</p> -<p class="verse2">Now when babes untimely perish,</p> -<p class="verse4">Like old Basques strew pure white roses;</p> -<p class="verse2">Freedom’s flame now, now ye cherish—</p> -<p class="verse4">’Tis no infant slave reposes!</p> -<p class="verse8">The pride of arms,</p> -<p class="verse8">And Freedom’s charms,</p> -<p class="verse8">Have spurred each soul</p> -<p class="verse8">For Glory’s goal;</p> -<p class="verse">My countrymen, to-day ye make your sister proud.</p> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -<p class="verse8">The Invader may come;</p> -<p class="verse8">Hark, hark to his drum,</p> -<p class="verse2">And the hoofs of his chargers clattering loud!</p> -<p class="verse8">See, see where the dust,</p> -<p class="verse8">Like a storm-gathered gust,</p> -<p class="verse8">Rolls over the plain,</p> -<p class="verse8">As he gallops amain;</p> -<p class="verse">Now stand, brothers brave, and be true to your trust!</p> -<p class="verse4">When upheaved is Roncesvalles,</p> -<p class="verse6">When the kite shall grasp the thunder,</p> -<p class="verse4">France shall hold Alphonso’s palace,</p> -<p class="verse6">France shall bring thy spirit under!</p> -<p class="verse7">When dishonours Vascongada</p> -<p class="verse7">Fernan’s triumph at Granada,</p> -<p class="verse7">When forgotten is Pavía,</p> -<p class="verse8">When unwrit her annals all,</p> -<p class="verse7">Then shall Spain consent to be a</p> -<p class="verse8">Province for the Gaul!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">On came the French light horse—a forage troop—</p> -<p class="verse2">And dashed impetuous to the ancient square,</p> -<p class="verse2">Deeming to spoil the town with vulture swoop,</p> -<p class="verse2">But Blanca’s voice had been before them there!</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath the oak the patriot phalanx fair</p> -<p class="verse2">With volley close receives the deadly shock.</p> -<p class="verse2">Though trodden down, none yields him to despair,</p> -<p class="verse2">But light-armed footmen horse and rider mock.</p> -<p class="verse">France oft the charge renews; Biscaya stands—a rock!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Fiercest amongst the hussars rode Jules, whose friend</p> -<p class="verse2">Blanca erewhile had with his carbine smote;</p> -<p class="verse2">He spied her ’neath the oak, and burnt to end</p> -<p class="verse2">The maid who foiled him in her lightsome boat.</p> -<p class="verse2">But by her side there stands a youth of note—</p> -<p class="verse2">Don Carlos named—her father too is nigh.</p> -<p class="verse2">Stout they received him Carlos—at his throat</p> -<p class="verse2">Sprang with good sword; and fiery sparkles fly</p> -<p class="verse">From blades with master-hand they both wield manfully.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Blanca’s sire with dexterous weapon cut</p> -<p class="verse2">The Frenchman’s rein, and pricked his foaming steed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Unchecked, the charger instant wheeled about,</p> -<p class="verse2">And from the battle fled at utmost speed,</p> -<p class="verse2">The bridle Jules deserting in his need.</p> -<p class="verse2">Shouted the enraged hussar, and spurred, and cursed,</p> -<p class="verse2">But faster flew the horse from guidance freed.</p> -<p class="verse2">The troop soon followed—of the fray the worst</p> -<p class="verse">Was theirs—and from the Basques the cheer of victory burst.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">No tongue may tell the transport of delight,</p> -<p class="verse2">That hailed this triumph of their patriot arms.</p> -<p class="verse2">A troop from fair Guerníca marched ere night</p> -<p class="verse2">For San Sebastian, amid War’s alarms</p> -<p class="verse2">To prove the spirit which the Vascon warms.</p> -<p class="verse2">And Blanca and her blithe barqueras rowed</p> -<p class="verse2">Once more to aid the siege with Hebe charms,</p> -<p class="verse2">While Carlos to whose arm she safety owed</p> -<p class="verse">Her shallop bore to San Sebastian, his abode:—</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Now thus,” she said, “to Isidora speak,—</p> -<p class="verse2">Though noblest maid, my foster-sister dear—</p> -<p class="verse2">Tell her my tongue to express my love is weak,</p> -<p class="verse2">And this memorial wet with many a tear.</p> -<p class="verse2">For dire to think how oft I am so near,</p> -<p class="verse2">But she within and I without the wall</p> -<p class="verse2">Beleaguered;—you, Don Carlos, need not fear</p> -<p class="verse2">To enter seaward, but the haughty Gaul</p> -<p class="verse">’Gainst Basque barquera soon would hurl the vengeful ball.”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Then from her beauteous breast the maid drew forth</p> -<p class="verse2">A silken banneret of pigmy size,</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet truly figuring—thence was all its worth—</p> -<p class="verse2">The standard proud of Spain, whose castles rise</p> -<p class="verse2">With lions rampant to the gazer’s eyes.</p> -<p class="verse2">And in the centre, broidered all blood-red</p> -<p class="verse2">Showed the French eagle—arrow-pierced he lies,</p> -<p class="verse2">Gasping in death, the plumes rent from his head:</p> -<p class="verse">“Give this to Isidor,” at parting, “this,” she said.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Dark was the night—the horizon pitchy black,</p> -<p class="verse2">As Carlos with the pass-word reached the town,</p> -<p class="verse2">And joyous strolled, while War’s dread fire was slack,</p> -<p class="verse2">With lovely Isidor the rampart down.</p> -<p class="verse2">More deep ’neath starry pall ne’er fell Night’s frown,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor sank repose on Nature and on man.</p> -<p class="verse2">But hark the rattling musketry, see crown</p> -<p class="verse2">Each sharp discharge its flash—ere death brief span.</p> -<p class="verse">Homeward, poor maiden lorn, sweet Isidora ran!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">’Twas gallant Rey, who made a night-sortie—</p> -<p class="verse2">Last effort tried ere come the dire assault.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our piquets on the Isthmus slaughtered see,</p> -<p class="verse2">Ta’en by surprise or ere they can cry Halt!</p> -<p class="verse2">Loud rose the Frenchmen’s <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">En avant!</i> At fault,</p> -<p class="verse2">Our sentries for a time unaided bleed,</p> -<p class="verse2">The deadly death-tubes rending the black vault;</p> -<p class="verse2">But soon a furious contest raged indeed—</p> -<p class="verse">Our startled piquets rush, their firelocks flash with speed.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Yet onward the French column densely moved,</p> -<p class="verse2">Our careful hewn intrenchments filling fast.</p> -<p class="verse2">Down went banquette and parapet; and proved</p> -<p class="verse2">Fascine and gabion feeble in the blast.</p> -<p class="verse2">Soon, as o’er level ground, the trench they passed</p> -<p class="verse2">While fierce artillery from the rampart roared.</p> -<p class="verse2">Incessant flashes momentary cast</p> -<p class="verse2">Made tenfold darkness when their stream was poured,</p> -<p class="verse">And shells in beauteous curves of light through æther soared.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But saw great Arthur from the Chofre hills,</p> -<p class="verse2">And while Graham hurled against the rampart’s height</p> -<p class="verse2">A fierce reply which all the welkin fills,</p> -<p class="verse2">Sent our bold columns rapid to the fight.</p> -<p class="verse2">Morton with joy, and Nial with delight,</p> -<p class="verse2">The summons heard, and dashing with their men</p> -<p class="verse2">Plunged through the fitful blazing gloom of night.</p> -<p class="verse2">Hot was the fire of skirmishers, which then</p> -<p class="verse">Maintained on either side bewildered Lyncean ken.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">For soon so mixed amid the pitchy gloom</p> -<p class="verse2">Were friend and foe, save when the cannon flashed</p> -<p class="verse2">To send grim death rimbombing from its womb,</p> -<p class="verse2">That friend smote friend, and indiscriminate dashed</p> -<p class="verse2">They on, by that dread peril unabashed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Hundreds were in the trenches headlong flung,</p> -<p class="verse2">And bayonets high o’er head and under clashed.</p> -<p class="verse2">So desperate to their ground the assailants clung,</p> -<p class="verse">It seemed as Victory long i’ th’ balance doubtful hung.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And, lo, where ’mid the carnage dire and wide,</p> -<p class="verse2">Rise rapid fireballs from the citadel,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose lurid glare is, sure, to Hell allied,</p> -<p class="verse2">With strong blue light the darkness to dispel;</p> -<p class="verse2">And some on the fascines around them fell,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which fiercely burnt, diffusing terror new</p> -<p class="verse2">For but an instant. Each his foe can tell,</p> -<p class="verse2">And musketry now blazes full in view,</p> -<p class="verse">Till heaps of corses soon both mound and trenches strew.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">By that dread blaze upon the topmost height</p> -<p class="verse2">A young French chieftain coped with Morton’s sword;</p> -<p class="verse2">Their clashing blades upon the brow of night</p> -<p class="verse2">Threw clustering sparkles swift as Brontes poured</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst Steropes whilst Ætna’s forges roared;</p> -<p class="verse2">And round and round they leapt to every stroke,</p> -<p class="verse2">And with good will each point of fence explored.</p> -<p class="verse2">But Morton’s firmer hand his guard soon broke;</p> -<p class="verse">The Gaulish chief disarmed the word “Surrender” spoke.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Nial coped with yet a hardier chief,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose practised valour and whose sinewy arm</p> -<p class="verse2">Gave little hope, I ween, of victory brief,</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet joy inspired to Nial, not alarm.</p> -<p class="verse2">Terrific was their sword play, like the charm</p> -<p class="verse2">Of deadly basilisk to lure the eye;</p> -<p class="verse2">And many a pass was parried without harm,</p> -<p class="verse2">And many a sweep and many a thrust put by,</p> -<p class="verse">Till Nial’s foe at last i’ th’ trench doth silent lie.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The Gaulish column while the deed dismayed,</p> -<p class="verse2">New daring to the British line it gave.</p> -<p class="verse2">Their rattling musketry more vigorous played,</p> -<p class="verse2">And clouds of smoke arose with curling wave</p> -<p class="verse2">O’erarching all the arena of the brave.</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor yet the fireballs ceased to light the war,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor yet the grape to fall where none could save</p> -<p class="verse2">Or life or limb, nor yet to roar from far</p> -<p class="verse">The cannon dire and bombs that burst through every bar.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And ’mid this jar confused of noises dire,</p> -<p class="verse2">And shouts of living soldiers fierce and fell,</p> -<p class="verse2">The piercing shrieks of wounded men rose higher</p> -<p class="verse2">Through groans of dying strewn by shot and shell;</p> -<p class="verse2">And of the fire balls from the citadel</p> -<p class="verse2">Some lit amongst the helpless wounded, bringing</p> -<p class="verse2">New pangs where agony too much doth dwell.</p> -<p class="verse2">See crawling through the blaze, or nervous springing,</p> -<p class="verse">The maimed from where blue fire its lurid glare is flinging!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But faint before the valour of our men</p> -<p class="verse2">Grew Gaulish daring, though they bravely fought;</p> -<p class="verse2">And when they showed irresolute, ’twas then</p> -<p class="verse2">Our Britons to the charge the bayonet brought.</p> -<p class="verse2">With shout appalling in their souls they wrought</p> -<p class="verse2">Such fear as aided well our glancing steel</p> -<p class="verse2">And firm advance. In flight they safety sought,</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet less in terror’s coil, than vain to feel</p> -<p class="verse">The assault that hath prepared with Britain’s sons to deal.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now free once more our deep intrenchments stood,</p> -<p class="verse2">Save of the heaps of slain and battle’s track,</p> -<p class="verse2">And many a broken blade and pool of blood,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which by to-morrow’s dawn shall find no lack</p> -<p class="verse2">Of zeal to clear, and bring to smoothness back.</p> -<p class="verse2">The dead shall find a soldier’s simple grave,</p> -<p class="verse2">The wounded healing care though pain should rack,</p> -<p class="verse2">With Fame’s requital; and where past the wave</p> -<p class="verse">Of War, each trench renewed again shall shield the brave.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Within the town the lovely Isidor</p> -<p class="verse2">Shuddered with fear at every cannon’s boom.</p> -<p class="verse2">As fell upon her ear the horrid roar,</p> -<p class="verse2">She deemed it sounded like the crack of doom,</p> -<p class="verse2">And on her knees within her furthest room</p> -<p class="verse2">Before an image of the Virgin prayed</p> -<p class="verse2">That Heaven might turn their hearts, and Pity’s womb</p> -<p class="verse2">Bring forth Pacification—sore afraid</p> -<p class="verse">To see man slaughter man in God’s own image made.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Blanca in the sound and sight rejoiced,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which ever told of liberty to Spain,</p> -<p class="verse2">And soon she hoped to see the standard hoist</p> -<p class="verse2">Sublime on San Sebastian’s towers again—</p> -<p class="verse2">The rampant lions spurning Gallic chain!</p> -<p class="verse2">And as the shells arose, the fireballs flew,</p> -<p class="verse2">She rowed along the bosom of the main</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath the wall, as danger she would woo,</p> -<p class="verse">Yet shuddered too at times—for Morton there she knew.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh, marvellous variety of minds!</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, Nature’s handiwork of subtile shades!</p> -<p class="verse2">From the same breast the stream to life that binds</p> -<p class="verse2">In foster-sisterhood drew both these maids.</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet one with gentlest bosom shrinks and fades</p> -<p class="verse2">Before the peril which doth rouse the other;</p> -<p class="verse2">One sickens, one rejoys at clashing blades.</p> -<p class="verse2">Ah, Blanca, Blanca, learn that joy to smother,</p> -<p class="verse">For steel doth smite e’en now who loves thee like a mother!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Still darkness palled the earth, when round the home</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Blanca’s father, near Zumaya’s green,</p> -<p class="verse2">The French hussars who fled Guerníca from,</p> -<p class="verse2">Arrayed in treacherous descent were seen;</p> -<p class="verse2">For Jules thus thought to wreak his vengeful spleen</p> -<p class="verse2">At once upon the maiden and her sire.</p> -<p class="verse2">His comrades called him Jules <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">L’Enfer</i>—I ween,</p> -<p class="verse2">Befitting name. More daring or more dire</p> -<p class="verse">In the French host was none, or rife with demon fire.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The vine-clad porch, where Jules erewhile had seized</p> -<p class="verse2">Fair Blanca while his comrade Ana prest,</p> -<p class="verse2">Was entered soon—the stubborn door, well pleased,</p> -<p class="verse2">They battered with their carbines piecemeal—blest</p> -<p class="verse2">Effects of War, that turns the human breast</p> -<p class="verse2">To tiger fierceness! Pablo leapt from bed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where soon disturbed his lonely widowed rest.</p> -<p class="verse2">The hussars rushed in by pale light faintly shed</p> -<p class="verse">From dim night-taper, when thus Jules ferocious said:—</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Where be thy daughters—yield them to our arms,</p> -<p class="verse2">“This instant yield them—buxom maids be they;</p> -<p class="verse2">“Buxom and fierce—the soldier’s spiciest charms</p> -<p class="verse2">“In woman. <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">L’Espingarda</i> fires, I say,</p> -<p class="verse2">“With aim that like a tirailleur’s can slay.</p> -<p class="verse2">“’Twas with my carbine she my comrade smote.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Now will I rifle her—she’ll now obey</p> -<p class="verse2">“My wishes, while I grasp her soft, white throat.</p> -<p class="verse">“<em>Dame!</em> a French bastard soon her tapering waist shall bloat!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Terrific Pablo’s triumph as he cried:—</p> -<p class="verse2">“No, ruffians, no; thank Heaven, they are not your’s,</p> -<p class="verse2">“My daughters! ’Tis God’s hand, to crush your pride,</p> -<p class="verse2">“To San Sebastian hath removed the lures</p> -<p class="verse2">“That brought ye hither, worse than Godless Moors!”</p> -<p class="verse2">“Ha, say you so?” quoth Jules, “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pardieu</i>, ’tis he,</p> -<p class="verse2">“The same who ’neath the oak, ’mongst Vascon boors,</p> -<p class="verse2">“My bridle cut and made my steed to flee.</p> -<p class="verse">“Dog! with those eyes to do the like no more thou’lt see!”</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Then on the bed he prest the old man down;</p> -<p class="verse2">With sinewy knee upon his breast he lies,</p> -<p class="verse2">His struggles stifling with terrific frown,</p> -<p class="verse2">And with his sword-point blinded both his eyes!</p> -<p class="verse2">Dire were the wounds he made, and crimson flies</p> -<p class="verse2">The warm blood forth, yet save some groans of pain,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which spoke poor Pablo’s natural agonies,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor shriek nor cry drew forth this deed of Cain,</p> -<p class="verse">For Blanca’s sire no weak faintheartedness could stain!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Then bound the villain both his hands and feet,</p> -<p class="verse2">And while its master helpless nought did say,</p> -<p class="verse2">Ransacked the house for all of wine or meat,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or forage that within its precincts lay,</p> -<p class="verse2">And thus caroused till near the break of day,</p> -<p class="verse2">When all with wine o’ercome the troopers flung</p> -<p class="verse2">Their lengths upon the floor at dawning grey,</p> -<p class="verse2">As weary Bacchants with whose orgies rung</p> -<p class="verse">Ismenian heights at morn reposed with lolling tongue.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Long Pablo heard their movements with disgust,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till silence broke but by repletion’s snore</p> -<p class="verse2">Convinced the sightless man that Heaven is just,</p> -<p class="verse2">And with excitement fierce his bonds he tore.</p> -<p class="verse2">Trembling with rage, he stood upon the floor</p> -<p class="verse2">An instant, then drew forth a dagger keen,</p> -<p class="verse2">And groped his blind way through the chamber-door.</p> -<p class="verse2">From sleeping form to form he passed, I ween</p> -<p class="verse">With preternatural touch as true as each were seen!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Jules he hath found! A scar upon his face</p> -<p class="verse2">The trooper gives to his revenge at last.</p> -<p class="verse2">With gentlest finger he the seam doth trace</p> -<p class="verse2">Along his cheek, till doubt to surety past.</p> -<p class="verse2">A ghastly smile then Pablo’s features cast,</p> -<p class="verse2">All grim and gory ’neath his butchered eyes!</p> -<p class="verse2">His finger’s point to where the heart beat fast</p> -<p class="verse2">Unerring moved—supine the monster lies—</p> -<p class="verse">Beneath blind Pablo’s blade heart-pierced he instant dies!</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO IV.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">The gathering under the oak of Guernica, the onset of the -French light horse, and the resistance of the peasantry, described -in this Canto, are incidents which, although imagined, are characteristic -of this heroic struggle at various periods. The part here -played by Blanca was not uncommon during the Peninsular War, -enthusiast emissaries having made their appearance in various -quarters, preaching the crusade against the French. They literally -preached, or harangued the people in public places. I met an -Englishman in the Peninsula who had figured in that capacity. -Women, too, undertook the same service, which amongst an excitable -Southern people was found to be most potential. The -appearance of the fair sex in this character was chiefly after the -siege of Zaragoza, when the renown won by Manuela Sanchez -caused heroines to spring up in several places, who wore for the -most part a half-military attire. Blanca’s use of the guitar is -strictly in character, for the talent of the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">improvvisatore</i> is pretty -general in Spain, the language readily adapting itself to extemporaneous -recitation in verse, and the ardent temperament of the -nation favouring a rapid exercise of the imagination. The Basque -drum or <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">pandero</i>, and the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">gaita</i> or bagpipe, belong to this district. -The Oak of Guernica, beneath which I make Blanca rhapsodize, -was one of the most venerable natural monuments in Spain. Here -the Biscayan legislators, hidalgos and peasants, periodically assembled, -and here Ferdinand and Isabella in 1476 swore to maintain -the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">fueros</i>, or ancient rights and privileges of the people. Wordsworth -has a sonnet on the subject; but unhappily his “tree of -holier power” was cut down by the French. An oak sapling was, -however, planted under the protection of the English army to -replace it.</p> - -<p>The idea of the night-sortie in this canto is taken from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -following passage in Napier:—“In the night of the 27th, about -3 o’clock, the French sallied against the new battery on the -isthmus; but as Col. Cameron of the ninth regiment met them -on the very edge of the trenches with the bayonet, the attempt -failed, yet it delayed the arming of the battery.” (<cite>Hist. War in the -Penins.</cite> xxii. 1.) I have made honourable mention of Cameron’s -achievement in my first canto, but without specifying that the -sortie took place by night. The attack in the real incident was -so speedily repelled that it afforded no room for poetical description. -I have therefore worked up separately here the idea of a -sortie with the numerous picturesque additions incident to its -occurrence by night, and have taken some of these incidents from -the sortie which took place from Bayonne, then invested by Sir -John Hope, on the night of the 13th April 1814—three days after -the Battle of Toulouse—being therefore the last event of the -Peninsular War, in which Sir John Hope was made prisoner, and -great loss of life occurred owing to the French governor’s incredulity -as to the abdication of Napoléon. It is described in Napier’s -last chapter but one, and still more minutely in Capt. -Batty’s <cite>Campaign of the Left Wing of the Allied Army</cite>, &c. -Though Sir Thomas Graham was intrusted with the conduct of -the siege of San Sebastian, and though at the period of the assault -Wellington was engaged with the allies, as described in a succeeding -canto, at some distance from the town, I am warranted in making him -superintend the defence of this sortie, he having visited the works -frequently during their progress, and having actually visited them -on the day (the 28th August) on which this sortie took place. -The present is almost the only instance throughout the poem, -where there is exaggeration of the actual amount of fighting and -its consequences.</p> - -<p>The French in desolating the fields of Spain, and sweeping off -their sheep and cattle by thousands, professed that they did it for -the people’s good, treating them, doubtless, as Sir Thomas More -makes the Utopians treat their useless members in his Happy Republic: -“Wrought on by these persuasions, they do either starve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -themselves of their own accord, or they take opium, and so they -die without pain.” (<cite>Utopia</cite>, book ii.) According to Hobbes’s -philosophy, this could be doing them no injury, “for he who consents -to any thing, cannot consider himself injured.” (<cite>De Cive.</cite> -1. i. c. iii.) This voluntarily inflicted suicide Bishop Burnet in -his preface more justly characterises as “a rough and fierce philosophy.” -Still fiercer was the “philosophy” of Republican France.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">V.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “What were thy mural crowns, bellipotent Rome?”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">corona muralis</i> was a crown of gold, bearing some resemblance -to an ancient wall with turrets, given to him who first -scaled the walls of a city in an assault. The <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">corona castrensis</i> sive -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">vallaris</i> was a crown given to the soldier who first mounted a -rampart, or invaded the enemy’s camp. The <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">corona obsidionalis</i> -(Livy) was a crown composed of the grass which grew in a besieged -place, and presented to the general who raised a siege. -This was deemed one of the highest military honours. Thomasius -says that it was likewise given “to a captain that razed a fort.” -The <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">corona triumphalis</i>, originally of laurel and in after ages of -gold, was worn by those generals who had received the honour of -a triumph. On its being sent to the general, it insured him the -triumph on his return, and he immediately obtained the title <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">imperator</i>, -which he retained till his triumphal entry. The <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">corona -ovalis</i> sive <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">myrtea</i> (Aulus Gellius) was given to a general for a -victory without slaughter of men. The <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">corona civica</i>, the highest -of all these rewards, was composed of oaken boughs, and given to -him who had saved the life of a Roman citizen.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Not Spain, not Spain doth tamely bear the yoke.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Levanta, España! tu famosa diestra</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Desde el Frances Pirene al Moro Atlante,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Y al ronco son de trompas belicosas,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Haz embuelta en durisimo diamante</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">De tus valientes hijos feroz muestra,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Debaxo de tus señas vitoriosas.</p> -<p class="verse16">Luis de Gongora.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Sagunthus and Numance and Bilbil here.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The cities of Saguntum and Numantia have been heretofore -specified. Bilbilis is the modern Bilbao, capital of the province -of Biscay. For a sketch of the ancient heroism of Cantabria, corresponding -with the modern Vascongadas or Basque Provinces, -see the <a href="#INTRODUCTION">Introduction</a>. For an account of the exploits of Viriatus -and Sertorius see Livy and Ferguson’s <cite>Roman Republic</cite>.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad3 noindent"> -“Now when babes untimely perish<br /> -Like old Basques strew pure white roses.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>This ancient custom has been made by Wordsworth the subject -of two sonnets, in the second of which occur the following fine -lines:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">A garland fashioned of the pure white rose</p> -<p class="verse">Becomes not one whose father is a slave!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “A troop from fair Guernica marched ere night.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Tambem movem da guerra as negras furias</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">A gente Biscainha, que carece</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">De polidas razoens, e que as injurias</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Muito mal dos estranhos compadece.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">A terra de Guipuscoa, e das Asturias, &c.</p> -<p class="verse16">Camóens, <cite>Lus.</cite> iv. 11.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Sent our bold columns rapid to the fight.<br /> -<span class="pad8">Morton with joy, and Nial with delight</span><br /> -<span class="pad8">The summons heard.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἐν γὰρ χερσὶ τέλος πολέμου, ἐπέων δ’ ἐνὶ βουλῇ·</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Τῷ, οὔτι χρὴ μῦθον ὀφέλλειν, ἀλλὰ μάχεσθαι.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Il.</cite> xvi. 630.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“For the end of war is in hands, but of words in council; -wherefore, let us not multiply words, but fight!” The dog who -barks loudest is least inclined to bite, or, as the German proverb -has it: “<span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Die grossen marterhausen sind nicht die besten kriegsleut.</span>” -I may add here Suidas’s excellent derivation of Arês <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἄρης</span>, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -Greek name of Mars—from <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">α</span>, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">non</i>, -and <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ῥέειν</span>, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">dicere</i>, because in war -not words but blows are needed.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “—Save when the cannon flashed<br /> -<span class="pad7">To send grim death rimbombing from its womb.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>The word <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">rimbombar</i>, signifying “to resound terrifically,” especially -as applied to thunder and discharges of artillery, is a very -forcible specimen of onomatopœia, and is common to the Spanish, -Italian, and Portuguese; I have therefore ventured to adopt it -into the English language. Tasso uses the word with fine effect -in one of his most celebrated passages:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Treman le spaziose atre caverne,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">E l’aer cieco a quel romor rimbomba.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Ger. Lib.</cite> iv. 3.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Threw clustering sparkles swift as Brontes poured<br /> -<span class="pad8">’Gainst Steropes whilst Ætna’s forges roared.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Antra Ætnæa tonant, validique incudibus ictus....</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ferrum exercebant vasto Cyclopes in antro,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Brontesque, Steropesque, et nudus membra Pyracmon.</p> -<p class="verse16">Virg. <cite>Æn.</cite> viii. 419.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>Virgil’s treatment of his subject, the forging of the armour of -Æneas, presents a curious contrast to Homer’s treatment of the -forging of the armour of Achilles. Vulcan is the agent in both -cases, but in the simple patriarchal era of Homer he is made to -do it all himself, with the assistance only of “twenty pairs of -bellows:”—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Φῦσαι δ’ ἐν χοάνοισιν ἐείκοσι πᾶσαι ἐφύσων.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>The more refined contemporary of Augustus makes the Cyclops -perform the porters’ work, and Vulcan merely look on.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The rampant lions spurning Gallic chain!”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Publica” respondit, “cura est pro mœnibus istis”</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Juppiter: et pœnas Gallia victa dabit.</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Fast.</cite> vi. 377.</p> -</div></div> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto V.</h2> - - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh human hearts, that nurture fond designs,</p> -<p class="verse2">While shattering Fate his iron moulds doth fill!</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, loving breasts unwarned by direst signs,</p> -<p class="verse2">The present joy-burst blindly hugging still!</p> -<p class="verse2">Impregnable redoubt of Human Will!</p> -<p class="verse2">Less strong than thine is San Sebastian’s wall.</p> -<p class="verse2">The ruin-clinging ivy Time can kill,</p> -<p class="verse2">But not avert thy worship from its thrall,</p> -<p class="verse">Till comes the destined hour, and instant bids thee fall!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">In summer skies I saw serenely bright</p> -<p class="verse2">Creation smile o’er pastoral cottage fair.</p> -<p class="verse2">Effulgent glory dwelt in loveliest light</p> -<p class="verse2">On copse and garden, hedge and homestead there.</p> -<p class="verse2">It seemed as exiled from that spot was Care!</p> -<p class="verse2">Sudden a cloud o’ergathering, fringed with red,</p> -<p class="verse2">Burst in black thunder bellowing through the air.</p> -<p class="verse2">A hissing bolt its flame terrific sped;</p> -<p class="verse">The cottage ruined lay—its peaceful inmates dead!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Not fairer Hella on the Ægean flood</p> -<p class="verse2">With her young brother sate the golden fleece,</p> -<p class="verse2">Than Blanca steered her bark when Morton stood</p> -<p class="verse2">Within its round, ’mid war discovering peace,</p> -<p class="verse2">And from his eyes drank love-light without cease;</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor with more grief was Athamantis torn,</p> -<p class="verse2">When sank her lovely form ’twixt sunny Greece</p> -<p class="verse2">And blue Propontis, than made Blanca mourn,</p> -<p class="verse">When Morton owned his gage to join the Hope Forlorn.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Ah, do not go! <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Mi Dios</i>, thou wilt not go!</p> -<p class="verse2">“Guillermo, thou wouldst kill thy Blanca. Death</p> -<p class="verse2">“Is there nigh certain.” William smiled: “Why no,</p> -<p class="verse2">“Not certain quite. Sweet Blanca, I’ll have breath</p> -<p class="verse2">“To kiss thee on my return. Why sorroweth</p> -<p class="verse2">“My love so soon, that was so brave erewhile?”—</p> -<p class="verse2">“I care not for myself but thee, for saith</p> -<p class="verse2">“The general voice, tis fatal.”—“See, I smile”—</p> -<p class="verse">“Oh God, if aught befal thee, Death may light his pile.”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A trumpet sounded. “’Tis the summons—hark,”</p> -<p class="verse2">Quoth William. Blanca straight grew lily-pale.</p> -<p class="verse2">He kist her thrice, then leapt from out the bark.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Fear not,” he said. “To-morrow without fail</p> -<p class="verse2">“We meet,” then flew with heart unused to quail.</p> -<p class="verse2">But Blanca motionless remained behind,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like calmed Feluca which the dying gale</p> -<p class="verse2">Hath quite forsook. Oh, Love had tamed her mind,</p> -<p class="verse">And pride and patriot thoughts <em>for him</em> were idle wind!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now battle’s roar which she had learnt to love,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or strove to love for liberty to Spain,</p> -<p class="verse2">Fell on her ear with horror, as the dove</p> -<p class="verse2">By cry of falcon is transfixed with pain;</p> -<p class="verse2">And still she numbered William ’mongst the slain,</p> -<p class="verse2">And every cannon with terrific boom</p> -<p class="verse2">That maid so bold before made shake amain,</p> -<p class="verse2">As were his breast the target. Rolled the drum;</p> -<p class="verse">“We meet to-morrow.” Ah, that morrow ne’er may come!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Dire was the chill that fell on Blanca’s soul,</p> -<p class="verse2">And oft she sighed for Isidora’s ear,</p> -<p class="verse2">To pour her woes and hear those lips console—</p> -<p class="verse2">Her foster-sister more than sister dear!</p> -<p class="verse2">But Isidora’s lot was e’en more drear,</p> -<p class="verse2">For none might dare from San Sebastian pass;</p> -<p class="verse2">And shivering from each cannon’s shock with fear,</p> -<p class="verse2">She longed by Blanca’s side—’twas vain, alas!</p> -<p class="verse">To pluck the summer-flowers, and brush the dewy grass,</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Dark fell the night like thickest, deadliest pall</p> -<p class="verse2">On Blanca’s bosom fluttering nigh to swoon;</p> -<p class="verse2">But while she drained her bitterest cup of gall,</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er fair Biscaya’s bay arose the Moon</p> -<p class="verse2">In wondrous beauty, and dispelled full soon</p> -<p class="verse2">Her gloom by enchantment. So serenely bright,</p> -<p class="verse2">It seemed as ’twere from Heaven a special boon,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Blanche with tears invoked the Virgin’s might,</p> -<p class="verse">And deemed she saw her form within that orb of light!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A cherry-coloured riband from her head,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which used to bind and float beneath her hair,</p> -<p class="verse2">With trembling hand she loosed, and o’er it spread</p> -<p class="verse2">A golden curl of William’s, tied it there</p> -<p class="verse2">In fashion of a cross, and with this prayer</p> -<p class="verse2">Consigned it to her bosom: “Empress-Queen</p> -<p class="verse2">“Of Heaven, Immaculate Virgin! Spare, oh, spare</p> -<p class="verse2">“His life. <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Mi Madre</i>, on Isaro’s green</p> -<p class="verse">“Thy shrine shall have a crown as fair as e’er was seen.”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">At length the foeman’s guns are nearly mute,</p> -<p class="verse2">The hour doth come for the terrific shock.</p> -<p class="verse2">Where thou hast sown, Britannia, pluck the fruit;</p> -<p class="verse2">Sebastian hoary, tremble on thy rock!</p> -<p class="verse2">With false assault the gallant Rey to mock,</p> -<p class="verse2">And haply make the veteran spring his mines</p> -<p class="verse2">(Oh, perilous emprize, where Death will lock</p> -<p class="verse2">With icy arms the form that fairest shines)</p> -<p class="verse">Leap forth a dauntless score of warriors from the lines.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh England! great thy glory, great the love</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy children bear thee, when to certain death,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or death nigh certain, dauntlessly they move,</p> -<p class="verse2">Condensed in shouts for thee their parting breath!</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis not one Curce or Ion gloryeth</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy history to record, one Mutius fierce,</p> -<p class="verse2">One Regulus self-devoted. Hundreds hath</p> -<p class="verse2">Each fleet and army, prompt for thee to pierce</p> -<p class="verse">Their panting breasts, and choose for bridal bed a hearse!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Young Nial forward flies with impulse dire—</p> -<p class="verse2">Of these heroic warriors he the head;</p> -<p class="verse2">They gain the breach—they mount—they shout—they fire,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their shouts are drowned in showers of answering lead;</p> -<p class="verse2">But still unsprung the mines, nor terror fed</p> -<p class="verse2">A valour calm as sleeps the Ocean near.</p> -<p class="verse2">Vain is the assault, and stretched full soon lie dead</p> -<p class="verse2">All who so late upraised that gallant cheer—</p> -<p class="verse">All save their leader bold who stalks the trenches near.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The hour is come! Breaks heavily the morn</p> -<p class="verse2">From densest misty shroud. Great Arthur calls</p> -<p class="verse2">For nigh a thousand hearts that danger scorn</p> -<p class="verse2">To rush like Ocean-surge against the walls,</p> -<p class="verse2">And swarm where thickest fly the deadly balls:</p> -<p class="verse2">“Men who can show what ’tis to mount a breach.”</p> -<p class="verse2">That voice inspires with valour where it falls;</p> -<p class="verse2">A thousand men leap forward—heroes each—</p> -<p class="verse">With arms to pluck the prize where Romans dare not reach!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And winnowed must be Valour’s chosen grain,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where headlong to a shroud or victory borne,</p> -<p class="verse2">All brave alike the peril proud disdain,</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet culled the chosen for a Hope Forlorn!</p> -<p class="verse2">Mark the doomed band whose plumes seem loftier worn,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose cheeks more red for courted wounds and death.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, many a mother’s breast shall soon be torn,</p> -<p class="verse2">And widowed spouse and sister gasp for breath,</p> -<p class="verse">Nigh perishing for them whose requiem Glory saith!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Hark to the muffled tread, where stealing slow</p> -<p class="verse2">Adown the trenches musters their array,</p> -<p class="verse2">While rank on rank in many a bristling row</p> -<p class="verse2">Is gathering stern as dimly grows the day,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor from yon level sun a beam can stray!</p> -<p class="verse2">The army’s hum, the awakening city’s din,</p> -<p class="verse2">The dusky masses gilded by no ray,</p> -<p class="verse2">But dim with curling vapours, ere begin</p> -<p class="verse">The cannon’s roar, make each more doubtful who shall win.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A moment now the bravest pause in awe,</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twixt life and death. Next moment—direful clash!</p> -<p class="verse2">Opens in thunder every dragon-maw</p> -<p class="verse2">Of fierce artillery with its lightning-flash.</p> -<p class="verse2">As cleaves Heaven’s thunderbolt the mountain ash,</p> -<p class="verse2">So hurled in ruins is the battlement.</p> -<p class="verse2">While Furies with that scourge its granite lash,</p> -<p class="verse2">Not adamant, I ween, were long unbent,</p> -<p class="verse">And wider grows the breach and easier of ascent.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Within the trenches many an eager eye</p> -<p class="verse2">With fevered gaze doth watch the sinking tide,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose ebb will give to conquer or to die—</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, cruel use of Man’s unerring guide,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which Nature’s hand hath stretched so fair and wide,</p> -<p class="verse2">The throbbing pulse of Ocean! Father Time</p> -<p class="verse2">Seems heavily on leaden wing to ride,</p> -<p class="verse2">And hours seem days, and hour-like minutes climb</p> -<p class="verse">I’ the anxious nervous pause of that suspense sublime.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And words are few and brief. It seemeth waste</p> -<p class="verse2">Of breath in idle converse to dilate,</p> -<p class="verse2">When hundreds momently to Judgment haste;—</p> -<p class="verse2">And sight usurps all functions! Mouths of Fate</p> -<p class="verse2">Prophetic line the wall, where batteries wait</p> -<p class="verse2">The onset, slowly turned the breach to flank,</p> -<p class="verse2">And bayonets bristle ’neath the parapet,</p> -<p class="verse2"><em>For them</em> prepared! The heart’s of interest blank,</p> -<p class="verse">That hath not waited thus in Battle’s foremost rank.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The hour is come! The signal, “On, men, on!”</p> -<p class="verse2">Sends from the trenches hundreds tow’rds the town.</p> -<p class="verse2">Like greyhounds straining on the slips, they are gone,</p> -<p class="verse2">While grape and shell in showers come pouring down,</p> -<p class="verse2">To where the grisly bastion-breach doth frown.</p> -<p class="verse2">Away, away, o’er slippery tidal shore,</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er seaweed dank and shell-incrusted stone.</p> -<p class="verse2">None stoops to pick, though strewn the seabeach o’er,</p> -<p class="verse">Save those whom other shells make stoop to rise no more!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Loud, louder still the batteries poured their fire,</p> -<p class="verse2">And softer rippled wavelets o’er the strand.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twixt Man and Nature, oh, what contrast dire!</p> -<p class="verse2">The clattering death-tubes scarce a zephyr fanned.</p> -<p class="verse2">Is Ocean awed to silence by the land,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or is’t amazed at human hate and rage?</p> -<p class="verse2">The eye ferocious, and the red right hand</p> -<p class="verse2">That writes its name renowned in History’s page?</p> -<p class="verse">Nature, I ween, is shocked, and beasts themselves more sage!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Ah better far on Albion’s soil to tread</p> -<p class="verse2">The verdurous meadow or the breezy hill,</p> -<p class="verse2">For peaceful toil or sportful wandering spread,</p> -<p class="verse2">In pastoral loveliness unrivalled still;</p> -<p class="verse2">Where blend sweet lane and slope with murmuring rill,</p> -<p class="verse2">Hedgerow, and vocal grove, and village green,</p> -<p class="verse2">And gardens fair and homesteads bright which fill</p> -<p class="verse2">True household gods and beauty,—there, I ween,</p> -<p class="verse">Alone ’neath tempering clouds in full perfection seen.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Ah, better ’twere beneath this radiant sky,</p> -<p class="verse2">This sparkling sunlight shimmering o’er the plain,</p> -<p class="verse2">To give to tender thoughts the melting eye,</p> -<p class="verse2">And yield the heart to Love’s delicious pain.</p> -<p class="verse2">The genius bland, the balmy air of Spain,</p> -<p class="verse2">More fit the lute than dire artillery’s roar.</p> -<p class="verse2">Ah, better far to sing such sweet refrain</p> -<p class="verse2">Some dark-eyed Andaluzan’s bower before,</p> -<p class="verse">As thus might ease the shaft that quivers in the core:—</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp" lang="es" xml:lang="es">La Sebillana</p> - - -<p class="canto">1.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">My Enriqueta’s eyelids</p> -<p class="verse2">Are as soft as dews that fall</p> -<p class="verse">From the moonlit jasper fountain</p> -<p class="verse2">In Alhambra’s silent hall.</p> -<p class="verse">No star that, through its casement,</p> -<p class="verse2">At the midnight hour you spy,</p> -<p class="verse8">Hath the light,</p> -<p class="verse8">Streaming bright,</p> -<p class="verse2">Of my Enriqueta’s eye!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">2.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">It hath the Southern darkness,</p> -<p class="verse2">And the Southern depth as well;</p> -<p class="verse">Touches, too, of Moorish wildness</p> -<p class="verse2">In its rapid glances dwell.</p> -<p class="verse">’Tis broad-cut like an almond,</p> -<p class="verse2">With a long and silken lash;</p> -<p class="verse8">When her mind</p> -<p class="verse8">Is to be kind,</p> -<p class="verse2">How she veils its lightning flash!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">3.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Her step is light and buoyant,</p> -<p class="verse2">As if borne upon the air;</p> -<p class="verse">Short and danceful are her movements,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like a pheasant’s young and fair.</p> -<p class="verse">Stately-paced <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">piafadora</i>,<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> -<p class="verse2">Waving gently to and fro,</p> -<p class="verse8">Do I hear</p> -<p class="verse8">No music near,</p> -<p class="verse2">While so gracefully you go?</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">4.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Her head she carries finely,</p> -<p class="verse2">And her bearing’s wondrous proud,</p> -<p class="verse">And her voice, like silver lute strings,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thrills the heart—but never loud!</p> -<p class="verse">’Tis a voice the brain to wilder;</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, I glory to be near,</p> -<p class="verse8">As she strolls,</p> -<p class="verse8">Witching souls,</p> -<p class="verse2">By the blue Guadalquivír!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The hour is come! The stream of valour doomed</p> -<p class="verse2">Pours through the openings of the huge seawall.</p> -<p class="verse2">Death reaps even now his harvest. Deep entombed</p> -<p class="verse2">I’ the earth full twoscore men like raindrops fall,</p> -<p class="verse2">By premature mine that else had swallowed all!</p> -<p class="verse2">Unchecked the rush of that tremendous crowd,</p> -<p class="verse2">And far beyond the Hope Forlorn appal</p> -<p class="verse2">The bristling ramparts, as with daring proud</p> -<p class="verse">They fly to the horrid breach,—tho’ Hell should yawn, uncowed!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Who leads the van? Green Erin’s son, Mac Iar,</p> -<p class="verse2">Fleet as the roebuck on his native hills;</p> -<p class="verse2">Dauntless as Brian’s sword, through showering fire,</p> -<p class="verse2">He boundeth o’er the seabeach rocks and rills,</p> -<p class="verse2">Impetuous. How his manly figure fills</p> -<p class="verse2">The eyes of thousands! How his dancing plume</p> -<p class="verse2">Of streaming snow enchains his followers’ wills,</p> -<p class="verse2">Doubling their speed, while copes i’ the front with doom</p> -<p class="verse">That gallant form that seems defiant of the tomb!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Alcides’ arm—the eye that Python slew,</p> -<p class="verse2">The limbs and shoulder of the Delian God!</p> -<p class="verse2">Now ’neath the breach that form triumphant view,</p> -<p class="verse2">Now see it stretched supine upon the sod!</p> -<p class="verse2">Ay, instant struck, as strikes Heaven’s fire the rod</p> -<p class="verse2">That points from loftiest pinnacle. No dirge</p> -<p class="verse2">Shall wail that fall, no cypress o’er it nod.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis War’s repast! Their course the stormers urge,</p> -<p class="verse">And o’er the Hero’s corse go sweeping like a surge!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Morton now, and Nial by his side,</p> -<p class="verse2">In peril’s front the impetuous stormers lead;</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor less their beauty nor their valour’s pride</p> -<p class="verse2">Than his whose doom was first that day to bleed.</p> -<p class="verse2">In generous rivalry, like mettled steed,</p> -<p class="verse2">They strain to win the breach, their grisly goal.</p> -<p class="verse2">Their flashing swords, athirst for Glory’s meed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their tossing plumes, the advancing crowd controul,—</p> -<p class="verse">And daring like to their’s inspires each warrior soul.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">On, on they rush, their line with dead bestrewing,</p> -<p class="verse2">While Mont ’Orgullo and Santelmo pour</p> -<p class="verse2">Both shot and shell, the living brave renewing</p> -<p class="verse2">The venturous rank where heroes fall before.</p> -<p class="verse2">Up, up the breach they climb, swift mounting o’er</p> -<p class="verse2">Bastion and parapet in fragments hurled—</p> -<p class="verse2">Titanic ruins strewn along the shore—</p> -<p class="verse2">While nearer now the culverin smoke is curled,</p> -<p class="verse">And deadly grapeshot paves the path to a new world.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">From every quarter sweeps an iron shower—</p> -<p class="verse2">Cannon and musketry in front and rear—</p> -<p class="verse2">From nearest horn and distant fort and tower,</p> -<p class="verse2">From rampart, bastion, curtain, cavalier.</p> -<p class="verse2">Up, up the breach they climb and laugh at fear!</p> -<p class="verse2">The summit’s gained—it seems the verge of Hell—</p> -<p class="verse2">A gulf impassable! Live thunder near</p> -<p class="verse2">Leaps forth from guns whose momentary knell</p> -<p class="verse">Rings for the brave who fall where late they stood so well.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Still swarms the fiery brink. Who now will dare</p> -<p class="verse2">Leap the dire chasm—who like Empedocles</p> -<p class="verse2">Will plunge into the Ætna flaming there,</p> -<p class="verse2">And be esteemed a God? Who to appease</p> -<p class="verse2">Hesperia’s manes, like the youth who sees</p> -<p class="verse2">The barathrum profound i’ the Forum yawn,</p> -<p class="verse2">Spurs his strong courser, is engulfed, and frees</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Rome—who now, by patriot impulse drawn,</p> -<p class="verse">Will sound that fell abyss, and haste fair Freedom’s dawn?</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh frightful precipice! Full many an eye</p> -<p class="verse2">Glares on its horrid depth and back recoils.</p> -<p class="verse2">Madly to plunge were hopelessly to die,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or torn and shattered fall into the toils.</p> -<p class="verse2">Even lingering here is death! As rankest soils</p> -<p class="verse2">Are strown with richest growths, the valiant strew</p> -<p class="verse2">That gory Scylla’s crest. Charybdis boils</p> -<p class="verse2">With vortex under. What may heroes do?</p> -<p class="verse">Advance? In vain. Recede? No, Britons’ hearts be true!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Up climbs a multitude of strenuous men,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who thick as forest-leaves autumnal fall,</p> -<p class="verse2">So keen for entrance to the lion’s den,</p> -<p class="verse2">Not death at every footstep can appal!</p> -<p class="verse2">Sore doth that storm of fire their valour gall,</p> -<p class="verse2">And slowly with reluctant pride they sink,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till stubborn planted on the lower wall</p> -<p class="verse2">They stand beneath the fiery torrent’s brink,</p> -<p class="verse">While ever and anon their chain doth lose a link.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Thrice to the deadly summit of the breach</p> -<p class="verse2">Did Morton rush, and thrice was backward borne,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like mariner that, dashed on stormy beach,</p> -<p class="verse2">Swayed by the surge against the cliffs is torn.</p> -<p class="verse2">But nought could drown unconquerable scorn</p> -<p class="verse2">Of death in that young hero. Up once more</p> -<p class="verse2">He rushed to the crest, and fell. Young Blanca, mourn!</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy lover’s heart is pierced, he totters o’er,</p> -<p class="verse">And falls ’mid heaps of slain—his dirge the artillery’s roar:—</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">The Rally.</p> - - -<p class="canto">1.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">As a torrent that bounds</p> -<p class="verse2">From its mountainous dwelling</p> -<p class="verse">Obstruction but chafes</p> -<p class="verse2">Into foamier swelling;</p> -<p class="verse">As snorts the wild bull</p> -<p class="verse2">Whom the banderils pierce,</p> -<p class="verse">So the death-scattered breach</p> -<p class="verse2">Makes the phalanx more fierce!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">2.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Each shower that is cast</p> -<p class="verse2">From the foemen’s fell cannon</p> -<p class="verse">But makes the assault</p> -<p class="verse2">To lift prouder its pennon.</p> -<p class="verse">Each shaft from the walls</p> -<p class="verse2">Gives to Valour new wings;</p> -<p class="verse">O’er each hero that falls</p> -<p class="verse2">See, a new hero springs!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">3.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">There is that to be done</p> -<p class="verse2">At which nations shall wonder;</p> -<p class="verse">The scarp shall be our’s,</p> -<p class="verse2">Although tenfold its thunder;</p> -<p class="verse">In spite of wide Earth,</p> -<p class="verse2">And in spite of deep Hell.</p> -<p class="verse">Where a Briton resolved,</p> -<p class="verse2">Could a Gaul ever quell?</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">4.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Come, cannon and musquet,</p> -<p class="verse2">Rain grapeshot and mortar!</p> -<p class="verse">We laugh at the rattling,</p> -<p class="verse2">We ask for no quarter.</p> -<p class="verse">By the breach shall we climb</p> -<p class="verse2">To yon turret-clad town,</p> -<p class="verse">And the tricolor tear</p> -<p class="verse2">From the cavalier down!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">5.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">On the death-dealing fort</p> -<p class="verse2">Shall we plant our proud standard.</p> -<p class="verse">Was red-coat e’er seen,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who to cowardice pandered?</p> -<p class="verse">Each traverse we’ll cross</p> -<p class="verse2">With invincible steel.</p> -<p class="verse">Then swift to your knees,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or the bayonet feel!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">6.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">See, see the breach strewn</p> -<p class="verse2">With our corses all gory.</p> -<p class="verse">’Tis but the first crop</p> -<p class="verse2">In the harvest of glory!</p> -<p class="verse">Sebastian is our’s,</p> -<p class="verse2">Though it rain shot and shell.</p> -<p class="verse">Where a Briton resolved,</p> -<p class="verse2">Could a Gaul ever quell?</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What stream is poured afresh? new Volunteers!</p> -<p class="verse2">They come, impetuous as the Pampas steed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Dash o’er the strand and trample craven fears,</p> -<p class="verse2">Fly up the breach where thick-strewn heroes bleed.</p> -<p class="verse2">They reach the crest. In vain! Snapt like a reed</p> -<p class="verse2">Is many an oak of war. The valorous surge</p> -<p class="verse2">Is spent in its vain fury, like seaweed</p> -<p class="verse2">Each quivering corse depositing. Yet urge</p> -<p class="verse">The living on, though fire their ranks incessant scourge.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Thus swarm i’ the summer ray o’er parchéd ground</p> -<p class="verse2">Unnumbered emmets toiling onward straight.</p> -<p class="verse2">Vain is the wrath that slays and strews around;</p> -<p class="verse2">Unslack’d their zeal, uncheck’d their war with fate.</p> -<p class="verse2">New myriads crowd each instant, even while wait</p> -<p class="verse2">Unpitying feet to tread them into dust,</p> -<p class="verse2">Indomitable. To small thus likened great,</p> -<p class="verse2">Men swarm to the breach, and glut the gory lust</p> -<p class="verse">Of sternest foe, yet stand, true to their country’s trust.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And all—must all be slaughtered? Lord of Hosts!</p> -<p class="verse2">Must this great valour be a Holocaust?</p> -<p class="verse2">Must men like oxen perish at their posts,</p> -<p class="verse2">And all the guerdon of their daring lost?</p> -<p class="verse2">Still do they mount and slow receding, crost</p> -<p class="verse2">Their dream of triumph, totter, sink, and fall.</p> -<p class="verse2">Even won the prize, how terrible the cost!</p> -<p class="verse2">The victory-flag to thousands were a pall.</p> -<p class="verse">Oh Lord of Hosts, arise, or butchery smites them all!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">With blood-red arms see Carnage, screaming hag,</p> -<p class="verse2">Gloat o’er each gash that lets the life away,</p> -<p class="verse2">Plash through the crimson stream, and curse if lag</p> -<p class="verse2">The shower of death-bolts darkening bright mid-day.</p> -<p class="verse2">See sopt her hands in gore, see ’mid the fray</p> -<p class="verse2">Where burst her eyes from forth her grisly head,</p> -<p class="verse2">In rapture that such numbers slaughtered lay:</p> -<p class="verse2">While reek her tangled tresses, see her fed</p> -<p class="verse">On dying groans, astride like Nightmare on the dead!</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO V.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">In the account of the Storming of San Sebastian, which occupies -this and part of the next Canto, I follow chiefly Napier’s <cite>History</cite>, -book xxii. chap. 2. The part which I assign to Nial in leading the -false assault on the night of the 29th of August was in reality undertaken -and bravely executed by Lieutenant Mc Adam of the 9th -regiment. As stated in my text, the leader was the only one of -the entire party that returned alive! The storming took place on -the morning of the 31st August, 1813. The leader, Lieutenant -Maguire of the 4th regiment (whose name I have restored to its -antique Celto-Irish form, “Mac Iar”) was struck down precisely -as described in my text. (See Napier.) The following account -is from Gleig’s <cite>Subaltern</cite>:—</p> - -<p>“The forlorn hope took its station at the mouth of the most -advanced trench about half-past ten o’clock. The tide, which had -long turned, was now fast ebbing, and these gallant fellows beheld -its departure with a degree of feverish anxiety such as he only can -imagine who has stood in a similar situation. This was the first -time that a town was stormed by daylight since the commencement -of the war, and the storming party were enabled distinctly -to perceive the preparations which were making for their reception: -there was, therefore, something not only interesting but -novel in beholding the muzzles of the enemy’s cannon from the -castle and other batteries turned in such a direction as to flank -the breaches, whilst the glancing of bayonets and the occasional -rise of caps and feathers gave notice of the line of infantry which -was forming underneath the parapet. There an officer from time -to time could be distinguished leaning his telescope over the top -of the rampart or through the opening of an embrasure, and prying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -with deep attention into our arrangements. Nor were our own -officers, particularly those of the engineers, idle. With the greatest -coolness they exposed themselves to a dropping fire of musketry, -which the enemy at intervals kept up, whilst they examined and -re-examined the state of the breaches. It would be difficult to -convey to the mind of an ordinary reader anything like a correct -notion of the state of feeling which takes possession of a man -waiting for the commencement of a battle. In the first place, -time appears to move upon leaden wings, every minute seems an -hour, and every hour a day. Then there is a strange commingling -of levity and seriousness within him, a levity which prompts him to -laugh he scarce knows why, and a seriousness which urges him ever -and anon to lift up a mental prayer to the Throne of Grace. On -such occasions little or no conversation passes. The privates generally -lean upon their firelocks, and the officers upon their swords, -and few words except monosyllables, at least in answer to questions -put, are wasted. On these occasions, too, the faces of the bravest -often change colour, and the limbs of the most resolute tremble, -not with fear but with anxiety, whilst watches are consulted till -the individuals who consult them grow absolutely weary of the -employment. On the whole, it is a situation of higher excitement -and darker and deeper agitation than any other in human life, nor -can he be said to have felt all which man is capable of feeling who -has not filled it.</p> - -<p>“Noon had barely passed, when the low state of the tide giving -evidence that the river might be forded, the word was given to -advance. Silent as the grave the column moved forward. In one -instant the leading files had cleared the trenches, and the others -poured on in quick succession after them, when the work of death -began. The enemy, having reserved their fire till the head of the -column had gained the middle of the stream, then opened with the -most deadly effect. Grape, canister, musketry, shells, grenades, -and every species of missile, were hurled from the ramparts, -beneath which our gallant fellows dropped <em>like corn before the -reaper</em>; in so much, that in the space of two minutes the river<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -was literally choked up with the bodies of the killed and wounded, -over whom, without discrimination, the advancing division pressed -on. The opposite bank was soon gained, and the short space -between the landing-place and the foot of the breach rapidly -cleared without a single shot having been returned by the assailants. -But here the most alarming prospect awaited them. -Instead of a wide and tolerably level chasm, the breach presented -the appearance only of an ill-built wall thrown considerably from -its perpendicular, to ascend which, even though unopposed, would -be no easy task. It was, however, too late to pause; besides, the -men’s blood was hot and their courage on fire, so they pressed on, -clambering up as they best could, and effectually hindering one -another from falling, each by the eagerness of the rear ranks to -follow those in front. Shouts and groans were now mingled with -the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry: our front ranks -likewise had an opportunity of occasionally firing with effect, and -the slaughter on both sides was dreadful. At length the head of -the column forced its way to the summit of the breach, where it -was met in the most gallant style by the bayonets of the garrison. -When I say the summit of the breach, I mean not to assert that -our soldiers stood upon a level with their enemies, for this was -not the case. There was a high step, perhaps two or three feet -in length, which the assailants must surmount before they could -gain the same ground with the defenders, and a very considerable -period elapsed ere that step was surmounted. Here bayonet met -bayonet, and sabre met sabre, in close and desperate strife, without -the one party being able to advance or the other succeeding in -driving them back.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">I.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “While shattering Fate his iron moulds doth fill!”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλ’ ἁ μοιριδία τις δύνασις δεινά·</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Οὔτ’ ἄν νιν ὄμβρος, οὔτ’ Ἄρης,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Οὐ πύργος, οὐχ ἁλίκτυποι</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Κελαιναὶ νᾶες ἐκφύγοιεν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Antig.</cite> 951.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Crushing is the power of Fate! which neither the elements, -nor Mars, nor a tower, nor the black wave-roaring ships can flee.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80"><ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'II.'">III.</ins></span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Nor fairer Hella on the Ægean flood.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Utque fugam rapiant, aries nitidissimus auro</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Traditur: ille vehit per freta longa duos.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Dicitur infirmâ cornu tenuisse sinistrâ</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Femina, cùm de se nomina fecit aquæ.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pene simul periit, dum vult succurrere lapsæ</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Frater.</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid, <cite>Fast.</cite> iii. 867.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>See also Pindar’s Fourth Pythionic.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Nor with more grief was Athamantis torn.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Et frustrà pecudem quæres Athamantidos Helles.</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Fast.</cite> iv. 903.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “But Isidora’s lot was e’en more drear,<br /> -<span class="pad7">For none might dare from San Sebastian pass.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse6" lang="es" xml:lang="es">La verde primavera</p> -<p class="verse6" lang="es" xml:lang="es">De mis floridos años</p> -<p class="verse6" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Pasé cautiva en tus prisiones,</p> -<p class="verse6" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Y en la cadena fiera.</p> -<p class="verse16">Lope de Vega, <cite>Arcadia</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“To pluck the summer flowers, and brush the dewy grass.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and -pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to -go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with Heaven -and Earth.”—Milton, <cite>Tractate on Education</cite>, § 22.</p> - - -<p> -<span class="fs80">VIII.</span><span class="pad8"> </span> ——“Invoked the Virgin’s might,<br /> -<span class="pad7">And deemed she saw her form within that orb of light.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">The nightly hunter, lifting a bright eye</p> -<p class="verse">Up towards the crescent moon, with grateful heart</p> -<p class="verse">Called on the lovely wanderer who bestowed</p> -<p class="verse">That timely light to share his joyous sport;</p> -<p class="verse">And hence, a beaming goddess with her nymphs</p> -<p class="verse">Across the lawn, and thro’ the darksome grove,</p> -<p class="verse">Not unaccompanied with tuneful notes,</p> -<p class="verse">By echo multiplied from rock or cave,</p> -<p class="verse">Swept in the storm of chase; as moon and stars</p> -<p class="verse">Glance rapidly along the clouded Heaven</p> -<p class="verse">When winds are blowing strong.</p> -<p class="verse16">Wordsworth, <cite>The Excursion</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">IX.</span><span class="pad8"> </span> ——“‘Empress-Queen<br /> -<span class="pad7">Of Heaven, Immaculate Virgin!’”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>For these epithets see the <cite lang="es" xml:lang="es">Horas Castellanas</cite>.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIII.</span><span class="pad8"> </span> ——“Great Arthur calls<br /> -<span class="pad7">For nigh a thousand hearts that danger scorn</span><br /> -<span class="pad7">To rush like Ocean-surge against the walls.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Disse ai duci il gran Duce: “Al nuovo albore</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">“Tutti all’ assalto voi pronti sarete.”</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, <cite>Gerus. Lib.</cite> xi. 17.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “To where the grisly bastion-breach doth frown.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">—Γοργείην κεφαλὴν δεινοῖο πελώρον.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Od.</cite> xi. 633.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Alcides’ arm—the eye that Python slew,<br /> -<span class="pad8">The limbs and shoulder of the Delian God!”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nec quòd laudamus formam, tàm turpe putâris;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Laudamus magnas hâc quoque parte Deas.</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Fast.</cite> vi. 807.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And Morton now, and Nial by his side,<br /> -<span class="pad8">In peril’s front the impetuous stormers lead,” &c.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Φευγόντων σὺν νηυσὶ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Νῶϊ δ’ ἐγὼ Σθένελός τε μαχησόμεθ’, εἰσόκε τέκμωρ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἰλίου εὕρωμεν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Il.</cite> ix. 47.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Let them fly with their ships, to their dear native country; -but we—Sthenelus and I—will fight till we find the end of -Ilion!” Cæsar addresses his soldiers in language very nearly -similar:—“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Quòd si præterea nemo sequatur, tamen se cum solâ -decimâ legione iturum, de quâ non dubitaret.</span>”—<cite lang="la" xml:lang="la">De Bella Gallico</cite>, -lib. i. §. 40.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Not death at every footstep can appal.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Per damna, per cædes, ab ipso</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ducit opes animumque ferro.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Non ...</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Monstrumve summisere Colchi</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Majus, Echioniæve Thebæ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Horat. <cite>Carm.</cite> iv. 4.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Like mariner that dashed on stormy beach,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Naufragum ut ejectum spumantibus æquoris undis.</p> -<p class="verse16">Catul. lxvi.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2 noindent"> -“As snorts the wild bull<br /> -Whom the banderils pierce.” -</p> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">E qual táuro ferito il suo dolore</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Versó mugghiando e suspirando fuore.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, <cite>Ger. Lib.</cite> iv. 1.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Thus swarm i’ the summer ray o’er parchéd ground<br /> -<span class="pad9">Unnumbered emmets toiling onward straight.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>This image will not be condemned as vulgar by those who are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -familiar with Homer; and it is further justified by the use of one -of our most elegant poets, Thomson, who commences his <cite>Castle of -Indolence</cite> thus:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">O mortal man, who livest here by toil,</p> -<p class="verse">Do not complain of this thy hard estate;</p> -<p class="verse">That like an emmet thou must ever moil,</p> -<p class="verse">Is a sad sentence of an ancient date.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “With blood-red arms see Carnage, screaming hag.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse8" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Todo es muerte y horror: vense hacinados</p> -<p class="verse8" lang="es" xml:lang="es">En torno suyo cuerpos espirantes,</p> -<p class="verse8" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Cadáveres y miembros destroncados.</p> -<p class="verse10" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Campo-redondo.</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite lang="es" xml:lang="es">Las Armas de Aragon en Oriente.</cite></p> -</div></div> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span><br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto VI.</h2> - - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Upon the Chofre stood the dauntless Graham,</p> -<p class="verse2">And marked the slaughter with determined eye,</p> -<p class="verse2">Sad yet unshrinking—poured then forth of flame</p> -<p class="verse2">A torrent hissing red athwart the sky.</p> -<p class="verse2">Close o’er the stormers’ heads the missiles fly,</p> -<p class="verse2">The stone-ribbed curtain into fragments hurled—</p> -<p class="verse2">Full fifty cannon streaming death on high.</p> -<p class="verse2">Unmoved they stand—no flag of fear unfurled—</p> -<p class="verse">A scene unmatched before since dawning of the world!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Even as at Niagára’s thundering fall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where leaps the torrent with gigantic stride,</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath the watery volume Cyclop wall</p> -<p class="verse2">Of rocks huge-piléd spans the river wide,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where dares the venturous voyager abide,</p> -<p class="verse2">And while his ears terrific clamour stuns,</p> -<p class="verse2">Flies free o’erhead the cataract’s foaming tide,</p> -<p class="verse2">And scarce crystálline globule o’er him runs:</p> -<p class="verse">Thus stand ’neath Death o’erarched Britannia’s dauntless sons!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Retire!” was first the cry. “A traitorous foe!</p> -<p class="verse2">Our batteries’ fire is ’gainst the stormers turned;”</p> -<p class="verse2">And struck a straggling shot the ranks below;</p> -<p class="verse2">But Nial and his men the counsel spurned.</p> -<p class="verse2">To win, whate’er the cost, their bosoms burned;</p> -<p class="verse2">And ’mid the fiercest of the cannonade,</p> -<p class="verse2">While San Sebastian for his bulwarks mourned,</p> -<p class="verse2">Within the rampart solid ground they made—</p> -<p class="verse">First step in victory’s march, whose laurels ne’er will fade.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What were thy triumphs, Greece, on Elis’ plain,</p> -<p class="verse2">Olympian dust Alphéus’ margin strewing,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Agora’s grand inspiring shouts, the train</p> -<p class="verse2">Of statues for the Altis sculptors hewing,</p> -<p class="verse2">Fame-thirst the prince’ and peasant’s soul imbuing?</p> -<p class="verse2">Unreal glories to the trampled fear,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which England with her million eyes is viewing.</p> -<p class="verse2">First Erin’s sons to encounter peril here.</p> -<p class="verse">No rebel wisdom yet impairs that lusty cheer!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">Tricorpor Geryon.</p> - - -<p class="canto">1.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Mark where Valour’s triple crown,</p> -<p class="verse">Marring every despot’s frown,</p> -<p class="verse">Gives to evergreen renown</p> -<p class="verse7">Britain’s dauntless sons.</p> -<p class="verse">Albion, Erin, Scotia join</p> -<p class="verse">Strength of shoulder, heart, and loin,</p> -<p class="verse">Men as sterling as their coin,</p> -<p class="verse7">Faithful as their guns!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">2.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Albion firm as Erin brave,</p> -<p class="verse">Scotia strong as angry wave.</p> -<p class="verse">Who could such a land enslave?</p> -<p class="verse7">Who her spirit quell?</p> -<p class="verse">Albion sturdy, Scotia grim,</p> -<p class="verse">Erin dashing o’er the brim—</p> -<p class="verse">True till death, though for a whim</p> -<p class="verse7">Wordy Knaves rebel!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">3.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Albion steady, Erin bold,</p> -<p class="verse">Scotia gallant as of old;</p> -<p class="verse">Britain’s men are Britain’s gold,</p> -<p class="verse7">Hardy sons of toil.</p> -<p class="verse">Albion dauntless, Scotia true,</p> -<p class="verse">Erin fervid—loyal, too,</p> -<p class="verse">Spite of Spleen’s seditious crew</p> -<p class="verse7">Banded o’er her soil.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">4.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Glorious Nations, three in one,</p> -<p class="verse">Long be warmed by Victory’s sun,</p> -<p class="verse">Ne’er by factious hate undone,</p> -<p class="verse7">Ne’er the bond untied.</p> -<p class="verse">Ne’er be shorn of either gem</p> -<p class="verse">Britain’s noble diadem.</p> -<p class="verse">Shamrock, rose, and thistle’s stem</p> -<p class="verse7">Ne’er let men divide!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Nor one the breach nor one the fierce assault;</p> -<p class="verse2">Three several columns mount the broken wall;</p> -<p class="verse2">’Mid deadliest havoc each is forced to halt,</p> -<p class="verse2">And rush the living where their brothers fall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Strewn on the crest of that Pyracmon tall;</p> -<p class="verse2">While heaps of slain a slippery footing yield</p> -<p class="verse2">To men whose hearts not <em>this</em> e’en can appal.</p> -<p class="verse2">Still brandish the besieged their fiery shield,</p> -<p class="verse">Till thicker strew the dead than live possess the field!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Nor yet Graham’s thunder ceases. Volleying rolls</p> -<p class="verse2">The red artillery, on each lightning-flash</p> -<p class="verse2">Dismay is borne to the defenders’ souls,</p> -<p class="verse2">Destruction’s bolts against the ramparts dash,</p> -<p class="verse2">And ruin strews the battlements. As lash</p> -<p class="verse2">The stormy billows Achill’s rock-bound shore</p> -<p class="verse2">With all the Atlantic’s force, thus many a gash</p> -<p class="verse2">That fiery torrent opes the bulwarks o’er,</p> -<p class="verse">And still at verge of death they madly strain the more!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And they are mad, or more than madness seems</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy glow, enthusiast Courage! Many a boy</p> -<p class="verse2">Sees Valour’s guerdon shine with starry beams,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Danger, made a mockery, seems a joy!</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet swiftly hostile fires their ranks destroy,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor yet to San Sebastian entrance gained.</p> -<p class="verse2">Already grief their glory ’gins to alloy,</p> -<p class="verse2">Lest ’neath that wall their glittering arms be stained.</p> -<p class="verse">Ere comes defeat be, Graham, thy death-fire two-fold rained!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Resistance chafes their spirits, stirs their blood.</p> -<p class="verse2">Excitement fires their minds beyond controul;</p> -<p class="verse2">Till lightning runs through all the arterial flood,</p> -<p class="verse2">And lion-daring grows the warrior-soul.</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many a gentle bosom ’neath that roll</p> -<p class="verse2">Of musketry and cannon feels transformed—</p> -<p class="verse2">Spurred like a race-horse bounding to the goal,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till death’s a sport to venturers conflict-warmed,</p> -<p class="verse">And not by men but fiends seems San Sebastian stormed.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh, sleepless eyes and aching foreheads tell</p> -<p class="verse2">In homes far distant how those lives are prized,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which now are diced away, though loved so well—</p> -<p class="verse2">On Glory’s shadowy altar sacrificed!</p> -<p class="verse2">The heart-wrung sob at parting undisguised,</p> -<p class="verse2">The silent hall and the deserted bower,</p> -<p class="verse2">The tender charge of Beauty idolized,</p> -<p class="verse2">And curléd babes, forgot in this wild hour,—</p> -<p class="verse">To Gorgons grim consigned is Manhood’s chosen flower!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What terrible explosion rends the sky?</p> -<p class="verse2">What fierce combustion wraps in flame the air?</p> -<p class="verse2">Traverse and curtain tall to ruin fly,</p> -<p class="verse2">And sulphurous fires the bastioned bulwarks tear</p> -<p class="verse2">Like rags asunder! Cries of deep despair</p> -<p class="verse2">Burst from the pale defenders; grenadiers,</p> -<p class="verse2">Unmoved as rocks till then, in hundreds share</p> -<p class="verse2">The ramparts’ doom which form their blackened biers;</p> -<p class="verse">And rush the stormers in with lustiest British cheers.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Of volumed smoke at length the eddying wave</p> -<p class="verse2">Falls o’er the battlement and clears the ground.</p> -<p class="verse2">Still would the sons of France the fortress save,</p> -<p class="verse2">Amazed amid the ruin spread around;</p> -<p class="verse2">But onward to their breasts the assailants bound,</p> -<p class="verse2">And momently the baffled foemen scare.</p> -<p class="verse2">They rally—I ween none there hath quarter found;</p> -<p class="verse2">They stand—and desperate valour all doth dare.</p> -<p class="verse">In vain—the stormers rush like lightning to their lair.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Red as the slaughter which their hands achieved,</p> -<p class="verse2">The British garb doth smite the foe with awe;</p> -<p class="verse2">And as our sturdy bowmen Creçy grieved</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er Gaul’s full-mailéd Knights triumphant saw,</p> -<p class="verse2">So the strong bayonet deals resistless law;</p> -<p class="verse2">And fly before that conflict hand to hand</p> -<p class="verse2">Of bone and muscle, ere a breath they draw,</p> -<p class="verse2">The sons of France, a wrongful Tyrant’s band,</p> -<p class="verse">Who fight not heaven-inspired for Freedom in the land.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Unconquered yeomen, England’s strength and pride!</p> -<p class="verse2">Who ne’er have yet been wanting at her call</p> -<p class="verse2">Against the world to stand, or dashing ride</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst odds that all but Britons would appal!</p> -<p class="verse2">For where, brave hearts, doth rise your serried wall</p> -<p class="verse2">Of adamant, in vain the thunder-scar.</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon that conquering ground ye stand or fall.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, strenuous arms alike for toil and war,</p> -<p class="verse">May ne’er be seen the day when Wrong your might shall mar!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh, Rank and Dignity! I saw too flies</p> -<p class="verse2">Spawned in the self-same chamber, sporting gay.</p> -<p class="verse2">With equal force, on equal wing, they rise</p> -<p class="verse2">Through the short sunshine of a summer day.</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet one the other buzzed to keep away,</p> -<p class="verse2">And flouted oft—intensest scorn revealing,</p> -<p class="verse2">As telling him below the Knave should stay,</p> -<p class="verse2">Too far beneath him born for kindly feeling—</p> -<p class="verse">One hatched upon the floor, the other on the ceiling!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Five deadly hours that conflict fell endured;</p> -<p class="verse2">But onward now the tide of Valour flowing,</p> -<p class="verse2">Chafed by the long restraint all foaming poured,</p> -<p class="verse2">The seeds of Death with every wavelet sowing,</p> -<p class="verse2">And, ah, on Mercy scarce a thought bestowing!</p> -<p class="verse2">As destrier strong whose mouth with curbing bleeds,</p> -<p class="verse2">When loosed the rein, doth plunge with eye-ball glowing,</p> -<p class="verse2">Mad snort, and trampling hoof which Fury speeds,</p> -<p class="verse">So dash the stormers in like spurred and panting steeds.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A standard floats upon the cavalier.</p> -<p class="verse2">It is the far-renownéd tricolor,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose folds more proudly ne’er have waved than here,</p> -<p class="verse2">Though many a victor field they’ve fluttered o’er.</p> -<p class="verse2">Up Nial springs with hand still dripping gore,</p> -<p class="verse2">And stoutly tears that tyrant-standard down.</p> -<p class="verse2">Three loud huzzas resound from sky to shore—</p> -<p class="verse2">Floats in its stead the flag of Leon’s crown.</p> -<p class="verse">’Tis ours! And Spain once more is mistress of her town.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Thus strove Peleides with the King of Men</p> -<p class="verse2">For fair Briseïs many a stubborn hour,</p> -<p class="verse2">And hung War’s chances on the wistful ken</p> -<p class="verse2">Of her ’mongst all Lyrnessian spoil the flower,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose charms drew eyes from Ilion’s loftiest tower.</p> -<p class="verse2">Thus to Achilles’ arms the maid restored</p> -<p class="verse2">Was stript o’ the robes that swept Atrides’ bower,</p> -<p class="verse2">And decked anew in livery of her lord,</p> -<p class="verse">To show no tyrant folds should float o’er his adored.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And well too fought thy warriors, Lusitain,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who, led by Britons, clomb the further breach,</p> -<p class="verse2">Resolved to strike a vigorous blow for Spain,</p> -<p class="verse2">And, how their iron fathers strove, to teach:</p> -<p class="verse2">Afonso, Avíz, Nun’ Alvares—heroes each—</p> -<p class="verse2">Castro and Albuquerque not quite forgot</p> -<p class="verse2">By their descendants, dauntless here who reach</p> -<p class="verse2">And pluck the wreath to wear might be their lot,</p> -<p class="verse">If were not all their fire as fitful even as hot.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Not thy Fidalgos, withered boughs, I ween,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor yet thy Royalty as much despised,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who fled like hinds when danger crost the scene,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their cumbrous rank like Manhood ne’er disguised,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their scutcheoned pomp like carrion fitly prized!</p> -<p class="verse2">Henceforth shall men for an opprobrium know</p> -<p class="verse2">The names by chroniclers most idolized,</p> -<p class="verse2">And choose strong blood Plebeian’s healthier flow,</p> -<p class="verse">That scaled Sebastian’s towers while nobles quaked below.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Spain her Guerrilleros—Dorian race—</p> -<p class="verse2">Sent to the conflict with unconquered hearts,</p> -<p class="verse2">And eyes that Tyranny could ne’er abase,</p> -<p class="verse2">Unerringly to guide their fiery darts,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where Vengeance winged with every shot departs.</p> -<p class="verse2">And hasting to the War, whose sacred cry</p> -<p class="verse2">Was “Death to the Invader!”, warm while starts</p> -<p class="verse2">The big round tear from fair Pastora’s eye,</p> -<p class="verse">The peasant-soldier thus with Heaven made an ally:—</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">The Guerrillero to his Mistress.</p> - -<p class="canto">1.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">While spin the amber beads</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath thy rosy finger,</p> -<p class="verse">And nought thy spirit heeds</p> -<p class="verse2">Save thoughts that Heav’nward linger;</p> -<p class="verse">At Isidoro’s shrine,</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the floor of marble,</p> -<p class="verse">While move thy lips divine,</p> -<p class="verse2">For me an Ave warble!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">2.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">And while, the Virgin’s Hours</p> -<p class="verse">In softest tones reciting,</p> -<p class="verse">You bend the Heav’nly Powers,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their blessed aid inviting;</p> -<p class="verse">Breathe then for me a prayer,</p> -<p class="verse2">That, moved amidst her splendour,</p> -<p class="verse">Our Lady of Vejer</p> -<p class="verse2">May crown my wishes tender.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">3.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">If spirits pure as thine</p> -<p class="verse2">Weave idly their petition,</p> -<p class="verse">What talisman for mine,</p> -<p class="verse2">To shield it from perdition?</p> -<p class="verse">Oh, Mary, thou alone</p> -<p class="verse2">Canst ope the path before me,</p> -<p class="verse">Canst give my heart a tone,</p> -<p class="verse2">Canst shed a blessing o’er me!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">4.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">The Seraph forms are fair,</p> -<p class="verse2">In Heav’nly chorus swelling,</p> -<p class="verse">But thine as well in prayer</p> -<p class="verse2">Becomes its earthly dwelling.</p> -<p class="verse">Thou look’st a clouded Moon,</p> -<p class="verse2">When veiled for solemn duty;</p> -<p class="verse">If thou’rt refused a boon,</p> -<p class="verse2">Why give thee so much beauty?</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh glorious race, indomitably fierce!</p> -<p class="verse2">Earth’s peasant-lords, triumphant o’er each shock;</p> -<p class="verse2">No, not more vain Antæus’ self to pierce,</p> -<p class="verse2">For sprung, too, from thy soil new strength to mock</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy foes, like Afric’s giant whom enlock</p> -<p class="verse2">The arms of Hercules; or liker him,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Achaian marsh heaved upward like a rock,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose hissing heads struck off, still heads more grim</p> -<p class="verse">Rose terrible to tear the Invader limb from limb!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Five deadly hours that conflict fell did last,</p> -<p class="verse2">And o’er the scarp now streams the flood of War;</p> -<p class="verse2">But many a barricade must still be past,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where dauntless Rey disputes ’gainst Victory’s star,</p> -<p class="verse2">With feeble garrison that yields each bar,</p> -<p class="verse2">O’erpowered by numbers though they battled well.</p> -<p class="verse2">And, vanquished soon by Fate, entrenched they are</p> -<p class="verse2">In Mont’ Orgullo, where both shot and shell</p> -<p class="verse">Pours on the brave resolved their lives to dearly sell.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now Slaughter stalks triumphantly alone,</p> -<p class="verse2">And silent is the fierce artillery’s roar;</p> -<p class="verse2">But shriek and shout and yell, cry, curse, and groan,</p> -<p class="verse2">Make music dire to rend the bosom’s core,</p> -<p class="verse2">And louder than Man’s thunder rolled before</p> -<p class="verse2">Comes Heaven’s artillery from the mountains down,</p> -<p class="verse2">Dark, stormy, terrible: leap lightnings o’er</p> -<p class="verse2">The murky cope to mark the Almighty’s frown</p> -<p class="verse">For deeds of carnage done in that devoted town.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What careth Man red-handed for His wrath?</p> -<p class="verse2">What bellowing beast so terrible as he,</p> -<p class="verse2">When boundless passions master him? His path</p> -<p class="verse2">Is more destructive than the stormy sea.</p> -<p class="verse2">His nostril is a furnace. Ominously</p> -<p class="verse2">Doth glare his bloodshot eye. Nor Beauty saves</p> -<p class="verse2">The virgin, nor grey hairs and tottering knee</p> -<p class="verse2">The reverend sire. Lust, rapine, murder waves</p> -<p class="verse">A pirate flag o’er all, and hearths are turned to graves!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh, meek-eyed Pity! Tenderness of Soul!</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, sacred source of sympathetic tears!</p> -<p class="verse2">Say, hast thou fled the Earth, whose tottering pole</p> -<p class="verse2">Can ill sustain its weight of grief and fears?</p> -<p class="verse2">Is dried your fountain, choked by crimson biers?</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, human anguish! Yet, by man’s accord,</p> -<p class="verse2">The day shall come, when he who as in years</p> -<p class="verse2">Gone by shall dare produce thee—King or Lord—</p> -<p class="verse">A Pariah-brand shall wear, than Demons more abhorred!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Still havoc, plunder reigns. Where is thy sword,</p> -<p class="verse2">Sebastian, Warrior-Saint, that now should wheel</p> -<p class="verse2">Like the Archangel’s, Eden who restored</p> -<p class="verse2">To Solitude? Dost thou less horror feel</p> -<p class="verse2">That thine own City ’neath the shock should reel</p> -<p class="verse2">Of ruffian violence? Prætorian brave,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Imperial Boar withstanding in thy zeal,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou whom nor Roman shafts subdued nor glaive,</p> -<p class="verse">Thy consecrated town arise, great Saint, and save!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh, arrow-pierced for Christ! whose mighty ban</p> -<p class="verse2">Against the arrowy shower of pestilence</p> -<p class="verse2">In aid Divine is still invoked by Man,</p> -<p class="verse2">And potent still, this plague send howling hence.</p> -<p class="verse2">By that great voice, whose eloquence intense,</p> -<p class="verse2">When Marcus trembled, made him firm to win</p> -<p class="verse2">The Martyr-crown, and Christian turned the dense</p> -<p class="verse2">Blood-thirsting crowd—guard, judges—all within</p> -<p class="verse">Its mighty compass, rise, and stay the steps of sin!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Nazrene Apollo, beautiful as bold,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose worship whirls the enthusiast Southern maid</p> -<p class="verse2">To passion oft and madness, to behold</p> -<p class="verse2">Thee limned so blooming fair—give, give thine aid!</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, by Irene’s love who undismayed</p> -<p class="verse2">Unbound thee, pouring balm into each wound</p> -<p class="verse2">The archers left—against the pillar laid—</p> -<p class="verse2">When dead they thought thee who had only swooned;</p> -<p class="verse">By her who healed thee, raise that voice to mercy tuned!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">By that majestic Faith, whose dauntless power</p> -<p class="verse2">Confronted Cæsar at his palace gate,</p> -<p class="verse2">When to the Capitol in glory’s hour</p> -<p class="verse2">The Tyrant proud ascended, lording fate;</p> -<p class="verse2">And dared reproach him with his cruel hate</p> -<p class="verse2">For God’s elect; and by the Martyr-crown</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy zeal soon won, oh leave not desolate</p> -<p class="verse2">The walls that bear thy name. Forbear to frown.</p> -<p class="verse">The patron gives no sign. Alas, devoted town!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">High on the greater breach where hours before</p> -<p class="verse2">Had swept the wave of battle, ’neath the black</p> -<p class="verse2">And murky cope, which flashed red lightnings o’er,</p> -<p class="verse2">A maiden stood alone in murder’s track,</p> -<p class="verse2">A white-robed angel seemed ’mid general wrack,</p> -<p class="verse2">And to and fro amid the heaps of slain,</p> -<p class="verse2">And round and round and forward then and back,</p> -<p class="verse2">Peered in each pallid face War’s iron rain</p> -<p class="verse">Had shattered there, and passed like Judgment in Death’s train.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">’Twas Blanca! she had heard too soon, too soon</p> -<p class="verse2">Of William’s fall, and sought his corse, I ween.</p> -<p class="verse2">As girt with thunder-clouds the silver Moon,</p> -<p class="verse2">So shone the maiden in that direful scene.</p> -<p class="verse2">But, ah, her cheek had lost its rosy sheen,</p> -<p class="verse2">Glared wild her eye, her tresses loosely fell.</p> -<p class="verse2">With frantic haste and Pythonissa’s mien,</p> -<p class="verse2">She tears away the corses where they dwell</p> -<p class="verse">In gory heaps that prove they stood the tempest well.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">She halts—she starts—on Morton’s corse she lights.</p> -<p class="verse2">Too true the mournful tidings! One shrill cry—</p> -<p class="verse2">She falls upon his breast, more dull than Night’s,</p> -<p class="verse2">His cold lips kisses in her agony,</p> -<p class="verse2">And clasps again—again—till no reply</p> -<p class="verse2">Convinces even <em>her</em> fond heart the source</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Life is frozen—then, without a sigh,</p> -<p class="verse2">Takes from his hand the sword, nor feels remorse,</p> -<p class="verse">Her heart transpierces, falls, and dies upon his corse.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh noblest maiden, though of low estate,</p> -<p class="verse2">With every proud and generous impulse rife;</p> -<p class="verse2">Born to demonstrate to the meanly great,</p> -<p class="verse2">How vain the pageant of a worthless life!</p> -<p class="verse2">Sprung from thy heart like wild-flowers all that wife</p> -<p class="verse2">Could bring of purity to Kingliest throne,</p> -<p class="verse2">With highest attributes to soothe the strife</p> -<p class="verse2">Of human passion, for the fall atone,</p> -<p class="verse">And show our angel-part preserved in thee alone!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Yet noble as thou wert, thy hand was armed</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst thine own life. ’Neath that terrific shock</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy great heart broke! The eye that Morton charmed</p> -<p class="verse2">Burst with its grief-flood like the Prophet’s rock.</p> -<p class="verse2">Cold, callous wordlings, do not Blanca mock.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her fault was generous—that she loved too much.</p> -<p class="verse2">Not long did Anguish at her bosom knock.</p> -<p class="verse2">Like Indian brides when Death their lords doth clutch,</p> -<p class="verse">She died in the same hour. Grief killed her with a touch!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Cantabrian maidens, sisters of the oar,</p> -<p class="verse2">Mourn, mourn for her your Cynosure and pride.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her star-like eye shall guide your chase no more,</p> -<p class="verse2">Your glory fled from earth when Blanca died!</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain your barks shall o’er the billows ride;</p> -<p class="verse2">Her beauty gave the sunshine most ye miss.</p> -<p class="verse2">So graceful ne’er again your fleet shall glide;</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor waves your prows so joyously shall kiss.</p> -<p class="verse">For Nereus ne’er surveyed a daughter fair as this!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Mourn, San Sebastian, for the beauty blighted</p> -<p class="verse2">Of her your angel-child in by-gone years.</p> -<p class="verse2">Your eyes no more shall by her charms delighted</p> -<p class="verse2">Recal celestial dreams to chase your fears.</p> -<p class="verse2">And, Isidora too, be shed thy tears,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or hoarded for thyself whom danger girds.</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy foster-sister memory now endears</p> -<p class="verse2">Alone, with thought of gentle deeds and words.</p> -<p class="verse">For ye were severed long, poor caged and sundered birds!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And, England, mourn for him the youthful Chief,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose noble promise Death hath there struck down,</p> -<p class="verse2">Survived by Blanca for a moment brief,</p> -<p class="verse2">And followed soon beneath the rampart’s frown.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, perished there young Love and young Renown,</p> -<p class="verse2">And budding Glory in the path of arms.</p> -<p class="verse2">Mourn for the brave who fell before the town,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor least for Morton, first ’mid War’s alarms</p> -<p class="verse">To prove the patriot glow the Briton’s heart that warms.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Still roars the thunder-storm—Day wears the gloom</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Night’s black canopy, and wears it well.</p> -<p class="verse2">That pall o’erspreads more horrors than the tomb;</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath its folds are done the deeds of Hell!</p> -<p class="verse2">And chiefs who seek the demon strife to quell</p> -<p class="verse2">Are slaughtered by their men. Drunk volunteers,</p> -<p class="verse2">Mad soldiers, vile camp-followers, knaves who swell</p> -<p class="verse2">The array of War, and know nor shame nor fears,</p> -<p class="verse">A plundering pathway hew thro’ havoc, blood, and tears.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Still roars the volleying thunder. Dost not feel</p> -<p class="verse2">Appalled, thou villain, by that lightning-flash,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor dream when brandishing thy dripping steel,</p> -<p class="verse2">That crimes like thine the Eternal arm will lash?</p> -<p class="verse2">Doth not that thunder-clap thine eye abash?</p> -<p class="verse2">For not more fell was Attila than thou;</p> -<p class="verse2">Not Alaric’s self, whose Visigothic clash</p> -<p class="verse2">Made Spain and Rome, beneath Honorius, bow,</p> -<p class="verse">Led monsters to the assault of much more shameless brow.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Such are War’s lessons—such the hideous brood</p> -<p class="verse2">Spawned by the Passions in the hour of strife;</p> -<p class="verse2">Such the dire Madness fed by scent of blood,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where plunder tempts and sullying gold is rife,</p> -<p class="verse2">Wine fires each appetite and whets the knife;</p> -<p class="verse2">Dissolved the bands of Discipline, the mould</p> -<p class="verse2">Of duty broke, restored barbarian life;</p> -<p class="verse2">Honour and Valour both to Rapine sold.</p> -<p class="verse">Look here, Ambition, here: thy handiwork behold!</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO VI.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">The incidents of the first part of this Canto are derived in common -from Napier, Jones, and Gleig. The tearing down of the Tricolor, -which I have assigned to Nial, must be historically attributed to -the real performer of this bold exploit.</p> - -<p>“The French colours on the cavalier were torn away by Lieutenant -Gethin of the eleventh regiment.”—Napier, <cite>Hist.</cite> book xxii. -chap. 2.</p> - -<p>The magnificent achievement of maintaining for a considerable -period a fire from our whole artillery, against the curtain wall, over -the heads of the storming party, is thus coldly, but (on the whole) -accurately, described by General Jones:—“From the superior -height of the curtain, the artillery in the batteries on the right of -the Urumea, were able to keep up a fire on that part during the -assault, without injury to the troops at the foot of the breach, and -being extremely well served, it occasioned a severe loss to the -enemy, and probably caused the explosion which led to the final -success of the assault.” The General’s coldness is owing to the -departure from the rules of art, and to the contempt of the maxims -of “Marshal Vauban, who had served and directed at fifty sieges,” -as he triumphantly describes him. Vauban’s maxim was certainly -not British: “At a siege never attempt any thing by open force, -which can be obtained by labour and art.” Gen. Jones is incorrect -in stating that the fire on the curtain was “without injury to -the troops.” Napier says: “A sergeant of the ninth regiment was -killed by the batteries close to his commanding officer, and it is -probable that other casualties also had place.” <cite>Hist.</cite> book xxii. -chap. 2.</p> - -<p>The impassable chasm beyond the breach is thus described by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -Jones: “At the back of the whole of the rest of the breach was a -perpendicular wall, from fifteen to twenty-five feet in depth.” -(<cite>Journals of Sieges</cite>, Sup. Chap.) He thus describes the advance of -the Portuguese column: “Five hundred Portuguese, in two detachments, -forded the river Urumea near its mouth, in a very handsome -style, under a heavy fire of grape and musketry.” (Jones, -<cite>Journals of Sieges</cite>, Sup. Chap.) This does not quite do justice to -the gallantry of the party. “When the soldiers reached the middle -of the stream,” says Napier, “a heavy gun struck on the head of -the column with a shower of grape; the havoc was fearful, but -the survivors closed and moved on. A second discharge from the -same piece tore the ranks from front to rear, still the regiment -moved on.”—<cite>Hist.</cite> book xxii. c. 2.</p> - -<p>The following account is from Gleig’s <cite>Subaltern</cite>:—</p> - -<p>“Things had continued in this state for nearly a quarter of an -hour, when Major Snodgrass, at the head of the thirteenth Portuguese -regiment, dashed across the river by his own ford, and assaulted -the lesser breach. This attack was made in the most cool -and determined manner, but here, too, the obstacles were almost -insurmountable; nor is it probable that the place would have been -carried at all but for a measure adopted by General Graham, such -as has never perhaps been adopted before. Perceiving that matters -were almost desperate, he had recourse to a desperate remedy, -and ordered our own artillery to fire upon the breach. Nothing -could be more exact or beautiful than this practice. Though our -men stood only about two feet below the breach, scarcely a single -ball from the guns of our batteries struck amongst them, whilst -all told with fearful exactness among the enemy. The fire had -been kept up only a few minutes, when all at once an explosion -took place such as drowned every other noise, and apparently confounded, -for an instant, the combatants on both sides. A shell -from one of our mortars had exploded near the train which communicated -with a quantity of gunpowder placed under the breach. -This mine the French had intended to spring as soon as our troops -should have made good their footing or established themselves on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -the summit, but the fortunate accident just mentioned anticipated -them. It exploded whilst 300 grenadiers, the élite of the garrison, -stood over it; and instead of sweeping the storming party into -eternity, it only cleared a way for their advance. It was a spectacle -as appalling and grand as the imagination can conceive, the -sight of that explosion. The noise was more awful than any which -I have ever heard before or since, whilst a bright flash, instantly -succeeded by a smoke so dense as to obscure all vision, produced -an effect upon those who witnessed it such as no powers of language -are adequate to describe. Such, indeed, was the effect of -the whole occurrence, that for perhaps half a minute after not a -shot was fired on either side. Both parties stood still to gaze upon -the havoc which had been produced! insomuch, that a whisper -might have caught your ear for a distance of several yards. The -state of stupefaction into which they were at first thrown did not, -however, last long with the British troops. As the smoke and -dust of the ruins cleared away, they beheld before them a space -empty of defenders, and they instantly rushed forward to occupy -it. Uttering an appalling shout, the troops sprang over the -dilapidated parapet, and the rampart was their own. Now then -began all those maddening scenes which are witnessed only in a -storm, of flight and slaughter, and parties rallying only to be -broken and dispersed, till finally, having cleared the works to the -right and left, the soldiers poured down into the town.”</p> - -<p>It is nearly incredible, and certainly not very creditable, that -General Jones in his detailed account of the siege and storming of -San Sebastian, says not one word of the horrible excesses which -our soldiers there committed. Some men’s notions of history do -not differ very widely from the concoction of a political pamphlet. -Napier’s history abounds with frank admission and reprobation of -these horrors. I find a distinct allusion to them almost at its -very commencement: “No wild horde of Tartars ever fell with more -license upon their rich effeminate neighbours, than did the English -troops upon the Spanish towns taken by storm.”—<cite>Hist. War -Penins.</cite> i. 5.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> - -<p>The part which the Portuguese took in this assault was sufficiently -creditable to make quite unnecessary the boasting spirit -which disfigures their national literature. It abounds in the great -work of their greatest poet. Thus, for instance:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Que os muitos por ser poucos não temamos;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">O que despois mil vezes amostramos.</p> -<p class="verse16">Camóens, <cite>Lus.</cite> viii. 36.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p>“We don’t fear many because we are few, which we have shown -a thousand times!” And in the previous stanza he relates that -“seventeen Lusitanians, being attacked by 400 Castilians <span lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">(desasete -Lusitanos subidos de quatro centos Castelhanos)</span>, not only defended -themselves, but offended their adversaries!!”</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Que não só se defendem, mas offendem!</p> -</div></div> - -<p>This ridiculous boasting and inane swagger, which was a vice in -the Portuguese blood in the days of Camóens, exists unchanged to -the present hour, and has been disgustingly manifested in a piece -called “Magriço” lately selected for the opening of the National -Theatre at Lisbon, in which Spaniards and Englishmen are alike -insulted. “We are not accustomed to count numbers!” was a -sentiment vehemently applauded in this piece. Let the Portuguese -not deceive themselves by an imagined resemblance to their -forefathers; and if their historical recollections are glorious, let -them endeavour practically to revive them. They should remember -that it is little more than a century since their entire army -ran away from the Spaniards and French at Almanza, and left -their English, Dutch, and German auxiliaries in the lurch.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">I.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Upon the Chofre stood the dauntless Graham,<br /> -<span class="pad6">And marked the slaughter with determined eye.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Mas luego que los fija en el cercano</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Altisimo torreon, bramando en ira</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Jura rendir el enemigo muro</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">En general asalto y choque duro.</p> -<p class="verse16">Campo-redondo, <cite lang="es" xml:lang="es">Las Armas de Aragon en Oriente</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Full fifty cannon streaming death on high.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse8" lang="it" xml:lang="it">——Le macchine ...</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">A cui non abbia la città riparo.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, Ger. <em>Lib.</em> iii. 74.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">IV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “What were thy triumphs, Greece, on Elis’ plain?”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sunt quibus Elææ concurrit palma quadrigæ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Propert. l. iii. Eleg. 9.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐμὲ δ’ ἐπὶ ταχυτά-</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">των πόρευσον ἁρμάτων</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐς Ἆλιν, κράτει δὲ πέλασον.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Olymp.</cite> i.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Carry me on swiftest chariots to Elis, and bear me to Victory!”</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Olympian dust Alpheus’ margin strewing.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">μηκέθ’ ἁλίου σκόπει</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἄλλο θαλπνότερον</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐν ἁμέρᾳ φαεινὸν ἄστρον</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">μήδ’ Ὀλυμπίας ἀγῶνα</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">φέρτερον αὐδάσομεν:</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Olymp.</cite> i.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Deem no shining star greater than the Sun, nor contest more -excellent than the Olympian games.”</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“<ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'Thy statues'">Of statues</ins> for the Altis sculptors hewing.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse8" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Διὸς ἄλκιμος</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">υἱὸς, σταθμᾶτο ζάθεον ἄλσος</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">πατρὶ μεγίστω· περὶ δὲ πάξας,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἄλτιν μὲν ὅγ’ ἐν καθαρῷ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">διέκρινε.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Olymp.</cite> x.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“The stalwart son of Jove measured out a grove divine to the -mightiest Father, and hedged it round, and the Altis he set apart -in that sacred place.” Pindar thus attributes the foundation of -the Olympic games to Hercules, who was more popular than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -Jupiter himself amongst his Heraclidan audience; and a few lines -before he alludes to his conquest of Elis, on whose plain these -games were subsequently celebrated, “<span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">μυχοῖς ἅμμενον Ἄλιδος;</span>” -Hercules having led thither an army from Tiryns, the first walled -city upon record. The sacred grove to which Pindar above refers -contained the temple of Olympian Jove, and the statues erected to -the conquerors in the games. The <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">τρισολυμπιονῖκαι</span>, or those who -had been thrice victorious, had their <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">εἰκόνες</span> in marble thus set, -and copied exactly from their members, which were thus in some -degree deified. (Plin. lib. 34, cap. 3.) And Aristotle, in his <cite>Ethics</cite>, -lib. 7, c. 6, says that the Olympian conquerors were called <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">“ἀνθρώπους” κατ’ ἐξοχὴν</span>, -as if they alone were worthy of the name!</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">X.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And sulphurous fires the bastioned bulwarks tear<br /> -<span class="pad7">Like rags asunder!”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">—Καὶ στεφάνωμα πύργων</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πευκάενθ’ Ἥφαιστον ἑλεῖν.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Τοῖος ἀμφὶ νῶτ’ ἐτάθη</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πάταγος Ἄρεος.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Antig.</cite> 122.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“And pitchy Vulcan seized our loftiest towers; dire was the din -of Mars that rose from behind.”</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“And rush the stormers in with lustiest British cheers.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“In the Peninsula, the sudden deafening shout, rolling over a -field of battle, more full and terrible than that of any other nation, -and followed by the strong unwavering charge, often startled and -appalled a French column, before whose fierce and vehement assault -any other troops would have given way.”—Napier, <cite>Hist. War -in the Penins.</cite> book xxiv. c. 6.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Oh, Rank and Dignity! I saw two flies.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“They wonder how any man should be so much taken with the -glaring, doubtful lustre of a jewel or stone, that can look up to a -star, or to the sun itself; or how any should value himself because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -his cloth is made of a finer thread; for, how fine soever that thread -may be, it was once no better than the fleece of a sheep, and -that sheep was a sheep still for all its wearing it. They wonder -much to hear that gold, which in itself is so useless a thing, should -be every where so much esteemed that even man, for whom it was -made, and by whom it has its value, should yet be thought of less -value than it is; so that a man of lead, who has no more sense -than a log of wood, and is as bad as he is foolish, should have -many wise and good men serving him, only because he has a great -heap of that metal; and if it should so happen that by some accident, -or trick of law, which does sometimes produce as great -changes as chance itself, all this wealth should pass from the master -to the meanest varlet of his whole family, he himself would -very soon become one of his servants, as if he were a thing that -belonged to his wealth, and so were bound to follow its fortune. -But they do much more admire and detest their folly who, when -they see a rich man, though they neither owe him anything, nor -are in any sort obnoxious to him, yet merely because he is rich, -they give him little less than divine honours; even though they -know him to be so covetous and base-minded that, notwithstanding -all his wealth, he will not part with one farthing of it to them as -long as he lives.”—Sir Thomas More, <cite>Utopia</cite>, book ii. Bishop -Burnet’s Translation.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Thus to Achilles’ arms the maid restored.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Untouched “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">quoad Agamemnona.</span>” The epithet of Homer is -<span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἀπροτίμαστος.</span> Il. xix.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Afonso, Avíz, Nun’ Alvares, &c.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The exploits of all these worthies will be found recorded in my -“Ocean Flower.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Not thy Fidalgos—withered boughs, I ween.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Mina never would suffer an Hidalgo to join his band—himself a -peasant by birth, and thoroughly despising the “higher orders.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -From this general censure of the Fidalgo class, the Conde de -Amarante, the Marquis de Saldanha, the present Conde de Villareal -and Duke of Terceira, who served with distinction in the Peninsular -War, are exceptions. The defence of the bridge of Amarante, -from which the first-named Conde received his title, was a most -brilliant exploit.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “No, not more vain Antæus’ self to pierce.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>See Pindar’s first Nemeonic, and Lucan, lib. iv.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Whose hissing heads struck off, still heads more grim, &c.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Non Hydra secto corpore firmior</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Vinci dolentem crevit in Herculem.</p> -<p class="verse16">Horat. <cite>Carm.</cite> iv. 4.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Oh, sacred source of sympathetic tears!”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The “<span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">δακρυων πηγαι,</span>” the “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sacri fontes lachrymarum,</span>” which -even amongst enlightened Heathens seem to have been more regarded -than by many modern Christians.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The Imperial Boar.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Diocletian.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “By that <em>majestic</em> Faith, &c.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Such is the force of the Saint’s name, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Σεβαστὸς</span>.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Her heart transpierces, falls, and dies upon his corse.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">—Καλὸν μοὶ τοῦτο ποιούσῃ θανεῖν.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Φίλη μετ’ αὐτοῦ κείσομαι, φίλου μέτα.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Antig.</cite> 72.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“It will be my glory thus to die. Loving I will lie by the side -of my beloved!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XL.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Dissolved the bands of discipline, the mould<br /> -<span class="pad7">Of duty broke, restored barbarian life.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ναυτικὸν στράτευμ’, ἄναρχον, κᾴπὶ τοῖς κακοῖς θρασὺ,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Χρήσιμον δ’ ὅταν θέλωσιν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Iphig. in Aul.</cite> 914.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“An army come in ships, anarchical, and ferocious for evil -deeds, but useful when it pleases.” A very close description of -our San Sebastian heroes—written more than two thousand years -since! I stood in September last upon the Chofre hills, on the -very spot whence Graham directed the fearful cannonade, and subsequently -beneath the branch where our gallant fellows entered, -and in the recollection of their bravery could readily forget the -tales of horror which I heard from Spaniards, who retain a more -vivid memory of misdeeds, than of the most magnificent services.</p> - -<p>I saw with little admiration the mediocre picture of San Sebastian -over the high altar in the cathedral, and when I subsequently -beheld the glorious picture of the same saint by Guido in the -museum at Madrid, I sincerely regretted that the latter is not substituted -for the former—a measure which would be well worthy an -enlightened government.</p> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto VII.</h2> - - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Close by the wall the grave Salustian held</p> -<p class="verse2">’Mongst noblest citizens his fair abode;</p> -<p class="verse2">And while its dirge the cannon hourly knelled,</p> -<p class="verse2">And red-limbed Slaughter through the city strode,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Havoc on the thunder-tempest rode,</p> -<p class="verse2">One only care Salustian’s bosom knew,</p> -<p class="verse2">One sole solicitude his mind could load—</p> -<p class="verse2">To shield his lovely daughters from the view</p> -<p class="verse">Of demons shaped like men who Ismail’s scenes renew!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Fair as the Morn and blooming as the rose,</p> -<p class="verse2">Graceful as lily waves its slender stem,</p> -<p class="verse2">Sweet as the breeze that o’er the violet blows,</p> -<p class="verse2">Pure as the light of Sheba’s diadem!</p> -<p class="verse2">Soft was her eye, yet sparkled as a gem,</p> -<p class="verse2">Large, black, and lustrous. Gentle, loved by all—</p> -<p class="verse2">The poor devoted kist her garment’s hem;</p> -<p class="verse2">The rich admired, nor Envy’s shafts could fall</p> -<p class="verse">On one so angel-good, of form majestical.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">As shines the Moon so Isidora shone</p> -<p class="verse2">’Mid circling maze of many a bright compeer;</p> -<p class="verse2">Or like the Star that heralds in the dawn,</p> -<p class="verse2">Dimming the lustre of each splendour near.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her glance could like Heaven’s dewiest sunbeam cheer,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her smile was music and her step a song,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her voice as Ariel’s flute was soft and clear.</p> -<p class="verse2">A glory streamed around her, giant-strong,</p> -<p class="verse">As robed in Beauty’s pride she queenly walked along.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A sister by her side as graceful grew</p> -<p class="verse2">In opening Woman’s sweetness. Isabel</p> -<p class="verse2">Seemed as a rosebud gathering ere it blew</p> -<p class="verse2">All forms of Beauty that divinely fell</p> -<p class="verse2">From full-blown flower that on the spray so well</p> -<p class="verse2">Beside her bloomed. ’Neath Isidora’s pure</p> -<p class="verse2">Example as a mother’s she doth dwell.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her step was faëry light, her laugh would lure</p> -<p class="verse">The coldest heart, her eye more dark with glances Moor.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Isidora loved a noble youth,</p> -<p class="verse2">Worthy of <em>her</em>—I ween that few be they;</p> -<p class="verse2">And honour, valour, virtue, manhood, truth,</p> -<p class="verse2">Combined in Carlos—noble every way.</p> -<p class="verse2">No step more free than his—none sang the lay</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Vascongada bold with richer voice.</p> -<p class="verse2">His, his the sword that, flashing midst the fray,</p> -<p class="verse2">Had Blanca saved, whose foster-sister’s choice</p> -<p class="verse">Gladdened her sire and made the general heart rejoice.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh Love, oh wedded Love, of life the balm,</p> -<p class="verse2">Deep-anchored safety, haven sure of bliss.</p> -<p class="verse2">No passion-storms disturb thy blessed calm,</p> -<p class="verse2">No perfect joy hath Earth to show but this!</p> -<p class="verse2">Thine for true hearts the chaste yet rapturous kiss,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thine deathless sympathy through Life’s brief span,</p> -<p class="verse2">Through cloud and sunshine—thine, when serpents hiss,</p> -<p class="verse2">The dove’s pure breast. Self mars e’en Friendship’s plan;</p> -<p class="verse">And <em>thou</em> the sole true friend and confident of Man!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Yet long in secret nourished was the flame,</p> -<p class="verse2">Ere either had declared it—ere ’twas known,</p> -<p class="verse2">Save by themselves, to aught that bore their name.</p> -<p class="verse2">The rapturous joy more rapture gave alone.</p> -<p class="verse2">From eye to eye had Love in glances flown,</p> -<p class="verse2">In whispered cadence dew delicious shed.</p> -<p class="verse2">A stolen pressure of the hand, a tone</p> -<p class="verse2">Unheard save by one ear, a language dead</p> -<p class="verse">To all save lovers—strains like this their passion fed:—</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">Song of the Balcony.</p> - -<p class="canto">1.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Upraise thy dark mantilla’s edge,</p> -<p class="verse2">And shrink not like a fawn away;</p> -<p class="verse">But near the balconcillo’s ledge</p> -<p class="verse2">Move for Sant’ Anna’s love, I pray;</p> -<p class="verse">And bend, oh, bend those glorious eyes</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon thy slave once more, once more;</p> -<p class="verse">For streams no star from yon blue skies</p> -<p class="verse6">I would as soon adore!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">2.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Encantadora! All is hushed;</p> -<p class="verse2">In deep repose our kinsmen sleep;</p> -<p class="verse">Tears from these streaming lids have gushed,</p> -<p class="verse2">In rapture that your tryst you keep.</p> -<p class="verse">Ah! must I never throb more nigh</p> -<p class="verse2">Than at our casements’ sundered height,</p> -<p class="verse">Nor steal this distant glimpse of joy</p> -<p class="verse6">But in the depth of night!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">3.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse"><em>Pordiez!</em> I would I were a bird,</p> -<p class="verse2">To glide on air beside thy charms,</p> -<p class="verse">To press thy lip at every word,</p> -<p class="verse2">To fold thee in my longing arms!</p> -<p class="verse">Oh, yes, by yon star-spangled, soft,</p> -<p class="verse2">Unutterable depth of blue,</p> -<p class="verse">I swear, as I have murmured oft,</p> -<p class="verse6">To live and die for you!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">4.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Within thy balcon’s dusky sphere</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou gleamest like an orient pearl;</p> -<p class="verse">At times I doubt what form is near,</p> -<p class="verse2">An angel or my angel girl!</p> -<p class="verse">Put coyly forth thy beauteous head,</p> -<p class="verse2">Lest stars grow dim, and Dian pale;</p> -<p class="verse">Nor let thy voice its music shed;</p> -<p class="verse6">To wake they could not fail!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">5.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Upraise thy dark mantilla’s edge,</p> -<p class="verse2">And shrink not like a fawn away;</p> -<p class="verse">But near the balconcillo’s ledge</p> -<p class="verse2">Move for Sant’ Anna’s love, I pray.</p> -<p class="verse">And bend, oh bend, those glorious eyes</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon thy slave once more, once more;</p> -<p class="verse">For streams no star from yon blue skies</p> -<p class="verse6">I would as soon adore!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Yet sighs one more for Isidora’s charms;</p> -<p class="verse2">Love’s treasure seldom without Envy shines.</p> -<p class="verse2">And even when Carlos clasps her in his arms</p> -<p class="verse2">In visioned bliss, another secret pines.</p> -<p class="verse2">Fate scowling terrible his bulwark mines,</p> -<p class="verse2">And comes the blow from evilest-omened hand.</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor Carlos nor his rival yet divines</p> -<p class="verse2">Their mutual secret. Blindfold thus they stand,</p> -<p class="verse">Till Hate in anguished hour whirls high his flaming brand.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">’Twas starry midnight lone, when Carlos soft</p> -<p class="verse2">’Neath Isidora’s open lattice stole,</p> -<p class="verse2">And gently touching his guitar, as oft,</p> -<p class="verse2">In strains melodious poured his melting soul.</p> -<p class="verse2">Even when his deepest cadenced transports roll,</p> -<p class="verse2">An iron hand his shoulder seized—another</p> -<p class="verse2">Held high the gleaming dagger, to its goal</p> -<p class="verse2">Next instant plunged it. Blood the voice doth smother</p> -<p class="verse">Of Carlos—he looks up—and sees, oh God, a brother!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">’Twas Jealousy—the scourge of Southern breasts—</p> -<p class="verse2">Made an unconscious Cain—for deep and true</p> -<p class="verse2">Fraternal love their bosoms both invests,</p> -<p class="verse2">And maniac-like the assassin instant grew,</p> -<p class="verse2">And tore his hair—and raved—then gibbering flew,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like Clytemnestra’s son by Furies driven.</p> -<p class="verse2">Long Carlos crimson lay and dead to view;</p> -<p class="verse2">With morning’s breath a glimpse of life was given,</p> -<p class="verse">And faint his cry was raised for bounteous aid to Heaven.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What cry too faint to reach the ear of love?</p> -<p class="verse2">Through Isidora’s casement pierced his moan,</p> -<p class="verse2">When Morn’s first beam Pyrene rose above,</p> -<p class="verse2">And roused her faithful heart with plaintive tone.</p> -<p class="verse2">Another cry—to the casement she hath flown.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, sight of agony—her lover lies</p> -<p class="verse2">Blood-boltered at her feet! With groan on groan</p> -<p class="verse2">His breast Apollo-like doth heave and rise,</p> -<p class="verse">And ghastly pale his cheek, and glaring white his eyes.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">With one wild shriek of agony she fell</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the floor the casement-ledge beside;</p> -<p class="verse2">And swooned so deep, that but for Isabel</p> -<p class="verse2">Close within earshot, aidless she had died.</p> -<p class="verse2">But reached that voice, so piteously it cried,</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian’s inmost soul, and called him forth</p> -<p class="verse2">With Aya, handmaids, servitors, who tried</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many a remedy in vain:—“Wo worth</p> -<p class="verse">“The day that gave, my child, this frantic terror birth!”</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">She oped her eyes, and shuddered slightly—gave</p> -<p class="verse2">A feeble cry—and uttered Carlos’ name;</p> -<p class="verse2">Then toward the window glanced, as if to crave</p> -<p class="verse2">Assistance—sad yet sweet her breathing came—</p> -<p class="verse2">Then sobs and tears—then sparkling dewy flame,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her eyes such passion showed as angels feel.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Carlos—the window!” she doth now exclaim.</p> -<p class="verse2">Both eye and tongue love’s mystery reveal—</p> -<p class="verse">And Carlos soon they find—through <em>her</em>, too, past the steel!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Long Carlos fluttering lay ’twixt life and death,</p> -<p class="verse2">But what could Isidora’s balm exclude,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her dewy fingers’ pressure, violet breath,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her tender care, and sweet solicitude?</p> -<p class="verse2">And day by day his growing cure she viewed</p> -<p class="verse2">Spring ’neath her hand like rarest, frailest flower,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till the fresh hues of health again exude</p> -<p class="verse2">Through every pore, and young love’s blooming dower</p> -<p class="verse">Glows o’er his rounded cheek, like rose for Beauty’s bower.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And where is he—the Fratricide? Within</p> -<p class="verse2">A gloomy convent cloistered, gowned, and shorn,</p> -<p class="verse2">He strives to curb his passion, shrive his sin—</p> -<p class="verse2">Against all world-communion deeply sworn.</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet Isidora’s image oft is borne</p> -<p class="verse2">Through twilight of the cell before his eye,</p> -<p class="verse2">Maddening his heart untamed, despairing, lorn;</p> -<p class="verse2">And though the day of Carlos’ bridal’s nigh,</p> -<p class="verse">In hopeless passion’s thrall that monk will changeless die.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now, had they <em>not</em> been brothers of the womb!—</p> -<p class="verse2">I saw two emmets fight with dire intent,</p> -<p class="verse2">As nought could slake their vengeance but the tomb—</p> -<p class="verse2">As each the other’s head had joyous rent,</p> -<p class="verse2">And gnawed like Ugolino. Why thus bent</p> -<p class="verse2">On slaughter? For a grain of chaff the strife;</p> -<p class="verse2">I thought of human blood inglorious spent</p> -<p class="verse2">In private feud for straws with quarrel rife,</p> -<p class="verse">And deadly weapons aimed at God’s best gift of life!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But, hark! the din of slaughter; hark! the scream</p> -<p class="verse2">Of virgin innocence and matron shame.</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Spain’s defenders see the bayonets gleam,</p> -<p class="verse2">And lust and plunder the defender’s aim!</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet haply share not all nor most the blame.</p> -<p class="verse2">A band of ruffians, vilest scum of War,</p> -<p class="verse2">By deeds inglorious, crimes without a name,</p> -<p class="verse2">Sully the brightest rays of Victory’s star,</p> -<p class="verse">And send their crimes to blaze with Valour’s fame afar.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Frantic with fear for <em>her</em>—his only fear,</p> -<p class="verse2">Rushed Carlos quick to Isidora’s side;</p> -<p class="verse2">And when the plunderers villain-eyed drew near,</p> -<p class="verse2">Barred all Salustian’s house, the horde defied,</p> -<p class="verse2">And with good rifle to their threats replied.</p> -<p class="verse2">Long was the contest, oft their firelocks flashed,</p> -<p class="verse2">But Carlos gaily cheered his destined bride;</p> -<p class="verse2">And, foiled, the band for rapine further dashed,</p> -<p class="verse">But swearing dire revenge, their teeth like tigers gnashed.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Away, away, my life, my love, my joy!</p> -<p class="verse2">“<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Querida</i>, thou must find secure retreat.</p> -<p class="verse2">“My peace ’twill, by my father’s dust, destroy,</p> -<p class="verse2">“If e’er thy charms these rabid dogs should meet.</p> -<p class="verse2">“<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Por Díos</i>, with steel I will the monsters greet!”</p> -<p class="verse2">With many a gentle word and heavenly smile</p> -<p class="verse2">Replied his Isidora, angel-sweet.</p> -<p class="verse2">Now fell the night, and blazed full many a pile,</p> -<p class="verse">And Charles for his adored a shelter sought the while.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">To Santiago’s shrine Don Carlos bore</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian and his daughters pale with dread.</p> -<p class="verse2">A mighty crowd hath filled with life the floor,</p> -<p class="verse2">And loveliest of them all the maid he led.</p> -<p class="verse2">Ah, lily cheeks and lips that Beauty fled</p> -<p class="verse2">At peril’s aspect, colourless were there,</p> -<p class="verse2">And vows were made at many an altar red</p> -<p class="verse2">With blood from wounded victims of despair,</p> -<p class="verse">And through the Temple rose a wailing voice of prayer.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Sudden was heard the appalling cry of—“Fire!”</p> -<p class="verse2">One moment mortal terror hushed each heart;</p> -<p class="verse2">The next, outburst a shriek of anguish dire,</p> -<p class="verse2">For flashed the Demon red o’er every part.</p> -<p class="verse2">The crackling flames across each window dart,</p> -<p class="verse2">And cast a lurid glare o’er faces pale</p> -<p class="verse2">With dread, or screaming till their eyeballs start</p> -<p class="verse2">Wild, frantic, terrible. The bravest quail,</p> -<p class="verse">For, ah, so dense the crowd no means of ’scape avail.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Fire” “Fire!”—the cry of agony again</p> -<p class="verse2">More shrill ascended—“<em>ay!</em>” and “<em>u!</em>” the scream;</p> -<p class="verse2">And women clapt their hands, and hoarsely men</p> -<p class="verse2">Implored, and piercing shrieks of children stream</p> -<p class="verse2">Far o’er the tumult to the topmost beam</p> -<p class="verse2">Of that tall Gothic pile. As in some vast</p> -<p class="verse2">Disastrous shipwreck, howling winds do seem</p> -<p class="verse2">With roaring waves to struggle fierce and fast,</p> -<p class="verse">And cries of drowning men are mingled with the blast.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Then rushed the crowd, by instinct furious borne</p> -<p class="verse2">Of life preserving, like the Ocean surge</p> -<p class="verse2">Towards the great entrance. Trodden down and torn</p> -<p class="verse2">Was every weaker form, and frantic urge</p> -<p class="verse2">The merciless hale who fly that fiery scourge;</p> -<p class="verse2">And heaving to and fro they cried to Heaven,</p> -<p class="verse2">Still vainly seeking instant to emerge,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till barriers of the sanctuary were riven,</p> -<p class="verse">And to the altar-front the trembling priests were driven.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now onward rolls the mass, till near the door</p> -<p class="verse2">More fiercely violent grows the maddened throng</p> -<p class="verse2">With sight of safety. Hundreds strew the floor</p> -<p class="verse2">Crushed, bruised, and trampled. O’er the weak the strong</p> -<p class="verse2">Unpitying stride, and dying shrieks the wrong</p> -<p class="verse2">With vain reproof attest of selfish man.</p> -<p class="verse2">But Carlos bore like Hercules along</p> -<p class="verse2">His Isidor with strength that all outran;</p> -<p class="verse">Grasped Isabel his waist—the outer wall they scan.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Now had I known,” the grave Salustian cried,</p> -<p class="verse2">“That thus the stranger would have Spain defended,</p> -<p class="verse2">I sooner, by my fathers’ bones, had died,</p> -<p class="verse2">Than Leon’s fate with Albion thus have blended.</p> -<p class="verse2">For vain the seas of treasure, blood expended,</p> -<p class="verse2">If fire and sword our homes and hearths assail.</p> -<p class="verse2">The standard joint I raised, yet now would rend it.</p> -<p class="verse2">While England’s lions roar, Castile may wail</p> -<p class="verse">Her lions mute; ’tis shrieks are borne upon the gale!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">It was a blessed thought—so Carlos deemed;</p> -<p class="verse2">A chamber high in the Cathedral tower</p> -<p class="verse2">His love might harbour while ferocious gleamed</p> -<p class="verse2">The eye of Rapine. Rude for lady’s bower</p> -<p class="verse2">Was this abode, where oft huge bells of power</p> -<p class="verse2">Swung loud, but who may choose in scenes like these?</p> -<p class="verse2">Cloak and sombrero thrown o’er Beauty’s flower</p> -<p class="verse2">Disguised the form which, ah! too well could please,</p> -<p class="verse">And Carlos guided well their path through danger’s seas.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">At deepest night the blaze of burning streets</p> -<p class="verse2">With horrid gleam doth light like Hell the town;</p> -<p class="verse2">The lurid glare its fit reflection meets,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where many a stream of blood runs crimson down!</p> -<p class="verse2">Ferocious yell and savage war-whoop crown</p> -<p class="verse2">The pile of dire disaster. Anguished screams</p> -<p class="verse2">Of terror shrill the roaring noises drown.</p> -<p class="verse2">Shrieks turn to groaning where the bayonet gleams,</p> -<p class="verse">And murdered Sleep wakes wild from sanguinary dreams.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The tower is reached—quivers with rage suppressed</p> -<p class="verse2">Don Carlos’ lip—Salustian’s cheek is pale,</p> -<p class="verse2">And pants fair Isidora’s fluttering breast,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like linnet o’er whose nest kites sharp-beaked sail.</p> -<p class="verse2">Well might that night of horrors make thee quail,</p> -<p class="verse2">Daughter of Vascongada! Rent the air,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till morning dawned nor ceased ev’n then, the wail</p> -<p class="verse2">Of hopeless Anguish where the voice of Prayer</p> -<p class="verse">Was choked, and shriek on shriek gave utterance to Despair.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Here sit, my children,” grave Salustian said,</p> -<p class="verse2">“While Spain’s disasters from their primal source</p> -<p class="verse2">I briefly trace, and ’midst these horrors dread</p> -<p class="verse2">Relief pursue by patriot discourse;</p> -<p class="verse2">For at each shriek my voice doth lose its force,</p> -<p class="verse2">And highest deeds recounting may sustain</p> -<p class="verse2">The fainting spirit. Ah! my throat is hoarse,</p> -<p class="verse2">And parched my lips with heat—to speak yet fain—</p> -<p class="verse">Would I had never lived to see this day for Spain!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Five years have past—thou dost remember well,</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twas when thou first didst braid thy raven hair,</p> -<p class="verse2">My Isidor, as now doth Isabel—</p> -<p class="verse2">Five wretched years—and both have grown so fair!</p> -<p class="verse2">Since first this Meteor who the earth doth scare</p> -<p class="verse2">With blood-red beams—this dire Napoléon—</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er Spain began to cast his lurid glare,</p> -<p class="verse2">Covet her lovely sky and radiant sun,</p> -<p class="verse">And try how much could first by treacherous fraud be won.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Dire was the ruin by Corruption’s hand</p> -<p class="verse2">Shed on our ancient monarchy. Her men</p> -<p class="verse2">Were noble still and worthy of the land,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose blood hath poured in every mountain-glen</p> -<p class="verse2">From Calpe to Asturia’s rudest den,</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst warlike Moor contending. But her Kings</p> -<p class="verse2">Unworthy most beneath dominion’s ken</p> -<p class="verse2">To hold so proud a people—timorous things—</p> -<p class="verse">Crawled ’neath a favourite’s sway, or crouched ’neath churchmen’s wings.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Corruption fills the Court—the Grandé taints—</p> -<p class="verse2">The Judge perverts to more pervert the law,</p> -<p class="verse2">Gives Demon-forms of hate the guise of Saints,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Freedom flings to Persecution’s maw.</p> -<p class="verse2">The Holy Office Hell delighted saw!</p> -<p class="verse2">Divine Religion! man’s best, purest gift,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou only gem that shines without a flaw!</p> -<p class="verse2">Star, from whose ray withdrawn we chartless drift,</p> -<p class="verse">A Gorgon thou wast made, a Moloch spear didst lift!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And Man was told to love where forced to hate,</p> -<p class="verse2">And saw his fairest fields partitioned forth</p> -<p class="verse2">To Nobles—so miscalled—by robbery great,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose phantom title was ancestral worth,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their own sole merit accident of birth!</p> -<p class="verse2">Heart-bitterness and worming discontent</p> -<p class="verse2">Made all the land—the loveliest upon earth—</p> -<p class="verse2">In sullen, fierce indifference bide till rent</p> -<p class="verse">The Thunder-clouds, supine—and some on Vengeance bent.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And patience, Heaven! while I pronounce the name</p> -<p class="verse2">Of him, the fellest monster of them all—</p> -<p class="verse2">Godoy who sold Iberia first to shame,</p> -<p class="verse2">And through her cold lips forced the cup of gall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Parted to France the Indian dower whose thrall</p> -<p class="verse2">Columbus won—even basely dared profane</p> -<p class="verse2">His monarch’s bed; and shadowing thus our fall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Napoléon gave a path to Lusitain</p> -<p class="verse">O’er our dishonoured soil—those footsteps conquered Spain!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And secret treaties had the recreant drawn</p> -<p class="verse2">With Hell’s diplomacy our soil to carve;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Europe was to have seen ere Aries’ dawn</p> -<p class="verse2">The traitor’s self the sovereign of Algarve.</p> -<p class="verse2">Thus rulers traffic while the people starve!</p> -<p class="verse2">Perchance Gaul’s tyrant mocked him with the lure—</p> -<p class="verse2">A double traitor—base design to serve.</p> -<p class="verse2">Howe’er be this, his legions we endure</p> -<p class="verse">Marched to the sister-land that erst expelled the Moor.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Trembled blue Tagus when his waters saw</p> -<p class="verse2">A conqueror come unwounded to his shore;</p> -<p class="verse2">His curling wave, receding, he doth draw</p> -<p class="verse2">In violent scorn to where Almada o’er</p> -<p class="verse2">The Serra lords Lisboa’s towers before.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her soil that spurned the Invader quakes again,</p> -<p class="verse2">And gapes athirst for foreign tyrants’ gore.</p> -<p class="verse2">Indignant Tagus lashes it—in vain—</p> -<p class="verse">Sinks o’er his golden sands, and sighing wears the chain.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Where were thy men—where, Lusitain, were they?</p> -<p class="verse2">Entranced, appalled—with none to lead or guide.</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy coward Princes fled like hinds away—</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy caitiff Nobles crost the Ocean-tide.</p> -<p class="verse2">No sword in the Invader’s blood was dyed!</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy Chiefs and Patriarchs basely kist the rod;</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy sacred banner of Saint George the pride,</p> -<p class="verse2">Torn from his castled height o’erspread the sod,</p> -<p class="verse">And Priests profane declared thy conquerors sent by God!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Spain next a victim! Foulest treachery seized</p> -<p class="verse2">Her fortress-castles—to the frontier drew</p> -<p class="verse2">Her Princes whose domestic feuds it pleased</p> -<p class="verse2">The Invader to foment, as Hell might do!</p> -<p class="verse2">His legions marched—for patriots then were few—</p> -<p class="verse2">To Manzanarés’ banks; our aged King</p> -<p class="verse2">The Usurper made pronounce his last adieu,</p> -<p class="verse2">And caged his Heir—a poor and mindless thing—</p> -<p class="verse">But Spain her talons ground, and imped her soaring wing!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh, many a murder marked that foreign sway,</p> -<p class="verse2">And many a shriek appalling rent the air.”—</p> -<p class="verse2">He ceased an instant—thus while he did say,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their ears were smote by cries of deep despair.</p> -<p class="verse2">Rushed Carlos to the door, but held him there</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian, Isidora, Isabel.</p> -<p class="verse2">He shook with passion, till his mistress fair</p> -<p class="verse2">With gentlest pressure strove his rage to quell;</p> -<p class="verse">Then snatched a ghittern—thus he struck the tuneful shell:—</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">The Tartar Town.</p> - -<p class="canto">1.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">’Tis foully done to wrong the Basque;</p> -<p class="verse2">No nobler man than he.</p> -<p class="verse">A desert-child, a Tartar wild,</p> -<p class="verse2">He once was more than free.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">2.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">He ne’er to Tyrants bowed the neck,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor stooped to slavish task.</p> -<p class="verse">The King of Spain, if he would reign,</p> -<p class="verse2">Must doff before the Basque.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">3.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">His lordly Fuéros prove his worth,</p> -<p class="verse2">Bequeathed from sire to son.</p> -<p class="verse">Hidalgos proud, the Vascon crowd</p> -<p class="verse2">Are noble every one.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">4.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">No other land the heir-loom grand</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Vascongada claims.</p> -<p class="verse">Each earthly shore must vail before</p> -<p class="verse2">The nobler Vascon names.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">5.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">No blood of Christ-beslaughtering Jew,</p> -<p class="verse2">No Moorish taint we own;</p> -<p class="verse">But God’s own gold—the Christians Old,</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis we be they alone!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">6.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">O’er stately Kings our triumph rings—</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis thus we spoke to them,</p> -<p class="verse">Low kneeling down, or ere the crown</p> -<p class="verse2">Possest this sparkling gem:</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">7.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Our bonnets worn, in lordly scorn,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Monarch kneeling bare:—</p> -<p class="verse">“We great as you, more powerful too,</p> -<p class="verse2">“Our King we you declare.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">8.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">“Our rights and liberties to guard,</p> -<p class="verse2">“We make thee King and Lord,</p> -<p class="verse">“To be allowed our Fuéros proud;</p> -<p class="verse2">“If not—then No’s the word!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">9.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">And still when San Sebastian ran</p> -<p class="verse2">To take the King to task,</p> -<p class="verse">Or treat with him for life or limb,</p> -<p class="verse2">He doffed him to the Basque!</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO VII.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">For the incidents connected with Napoléon’s invasion of Portugal -and Spain, and for the state of both monarchies at that -period, the reader is referred to Napier’s and Southey’s Histories -of the Peninsular War, and (with the necessary caution in the -perusal) to Thiers’s <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire du Consulat et de l’Empire</cite>. I have -endeavoured to adhere as closely to historical truth as the nature -of poetical composition would permit. My residence in both -Peninsular countries, since they were visited either by Southey or -Napier, has enabled me to add some additional particulars, derived -from sources exhibited of late years, which tend to throw fresh -light upon these transactions.</p> - -<p>The Emperor commenced with the invasion of Portugal, for -various reasons, of which the chief was probably that, as there was -no family alliance between France and Portugal, as between France -and Spain, an injustice done to the former country would be less -shocking and startling to the common feelings of mankind. That -Napoléon himself regarded an invasion of Spain in that light is -evident from a remarkable expression which he used in conversation -with his aide-de-camp, Savary:—“I am always afraid of a change -of which I do not see the scope: the best plan of all would be to -avoid a war with Spain, it would be a kind of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Sacrilege</i> (he used -the expression); but I shall not shrink from making it.”—Thiers, -<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire du Consulat et de l’Empire</cite>.</p> - -<p>When Junot entered Lisbon, the old Queen of Portugal was -mad, and the Prince Regent possessed no vigour of character to -supply the sovereign’s intellectual deficiencies. These were supposed -to be in great measure chargeable upon the superstitious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -terrors with which her head had been filled by Dom José Maria de -Mello, Bishop of Algarve and Grand Inquisitor of the Kingdom. -Influenced partly by fear of Junot, and partly by the popular discontent -with the fugitive government, (for the entire Royal family -and Court of Portugal fled to Brazil the moment it was ascertained -that Junot was on his march close to Lisbon, and left the poor -miserable country to shift for itself,) the principal ecclesiastics of -the kingdom, with a subserviency too characteristic of that order -in every country, worshipped the rising sun, and lavished their -despicable incense upon Junot and Napoléon. Cardinal Mendoza, -the Patriarch of Lisbon, issued a pastoral sounding the praises of -“the man whom past ages had been unable to divine, the man of -prodigies, the Great Emperor whom God had called to establish -the happiness of nations!” At the voice of this reverend Prince -of the Church, the bishops and clergy, and in imitation of them the -civil magistrates, recommended it to the faithful and to the people -generally, as a binding civil and religious obligation, to receive the -French cordially and pay obedience to their General. This language -was especially noticeable in the mouth of the Inquisitor -General, since he had always been heard to profess principles of the -most diametrically opposite character. Against the “impious revolutionists” -of France he had been the first to fulminate his censures. -He had sought to re-establish <i lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">autos-da-fé</i>, in all their original -bloody ferocity, under the reign of his august but crazy -penitent. And at the commencement of the revolution he had -seriously proposed the excommunication of the French nation <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en -masse</i> by the dignified clergy of Portugal.</p> - -<p>The concentration of Junot’s troops around Lisbon made the reception -of the French <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">régime</i> a matter of little difficulty. But it -is not a little curious that the voice of old prophecy was made to -contribute to the same result. The Nostradamus of Portugal, -Bandarra, had predicted these changes as conformable to the will -of God, and the triumph of the imperial eagle of Napoléon might -be read in his prophetic quatrains. Curiously illustrative are these -details of the character of a people of whom it has (with some exaggeration)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -been said that one half are waiting for the coming of -Dom Sebastian, and the other half for that of the Messiah. The -prophecy of Bandarra struck the nation with astonishment, and -for a time they regarded it as literally fulfilled. The closeness of -realization was certainly astounding. Gonzalo Annes Bandarra -was a poor cobbler of Trancoso in the district of Guarda, who -composed about the year 1540 some prophecies which have ever -since obtained great reputation in the country, amongst all classes. -His <i lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">trovas</i> or <i lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">redondilhas</i> (rhymed quatrains) have been printed -several times, and in 1809 an edition was published at Barcelona. -When the French entered Lisbon in 1807, the event was found by -the believers in prophecy to be not only clearly predicted in -Bandarra, but the Imperial power to be precisely indicated, and -the first letter of the name of Napoléon, in the 17th and 18th -quatrains of the third prophetic dream, which are as follows:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verseq" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">“Ergue-se a Aguia imperial</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Com os seus filhos ao rabo,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">E com as unhas no cabo</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Faz o ninho em Portugal.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Poe um A pernas acima,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Tira—lhe a risca do meio,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">E por detraz lha arrima,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Saberas quern te nomeio.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“The Imperial Eagle rises, with his children at his tail, and with -his claws before him makes his nest in Portugal. Put an A with -its legs upside down; take away its middle bar, and put this bar -behind it. You will know him I name.” The coarseness of the -wording belongs to the era and to the popular literature of Portugal -generally. The N and the imperial eagle are made out perfectly. -The coincidence does not quite convince, but in the words of the -hero of the Gridiron story, “it is mighty remarkable!”</p> - -<p>Junot proceeded to depose the Royal House of Portugal with -the coolest unconcern, and from the old Palace of the Inquisition, -where he established his Intendance Générale, and upon whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -ruins the new National Theatre has just been raised, he issued a -proclamation declaring that “the dynasty of Braganza had ceased -in Portugal!” Meanwhile Solano, a creature of Godoy’s, who had -accompanied Junot to Lisbon, was active on behalf of his infamous -master, whose obscure birth-place I lately saw at Badajoz, and -substituted in several public acts the name of the King of Spain -for that of the Prince Regent of Portugal. He created a Chief -Judge and a Superintendent of Finances, and both employments -were conferred upon Castilian subjects. Solano was the intimate -confident of the Prince of the Peace, and it is believed that it was -not without superior orders that he proceeded in these hasty innovations. -The future Sovereign of the Algarves, as designated in the -secret treaty with Napoléon, was so impatient to reign on his own -account that, if the reports which prevailed at the period are to be -believed, dollars were struck at the Madrid mint, bearing upon -one side the head of Godoy with the legend <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Emmanuel primus -Algarviorum dux</i>, and on the other the ancient arms of the kingdom -of Algarve.</p> - -<p>Shortly after his arrival Junot proceeded, as he phrased it, -“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">inaugurer avec éclat à Lisbonne le drapeau tricolore français.</span>” -The Portuguese had previously received them as friends: this -outrage opened their eyes. It was on a Sunday; 6,000 men of all -arms were assembled in the great square of the Rocio, to be reviewed -by the General. Mid-day sounded. A salvo of artillery -resounded from the Castle of St. George, originally built by the -Moors. Every eye was turned towards these ancient walls, which -topple over the city somewhat like the Calton Hill at Edinburgh. -In an instant was seen to fall the standard of Portugal which -floated before on the loftiest tower of the Castle, while its place -was taken in another instant by a foreign flag surmounted by the -imperial eagle! To describe the outraged feelings of the Portuguese, -to paint their indignation and horror, is impossible. Their -loyalty and their national pride are almost the only virtues which -they retain. Their southern hatred was excited to terrific intensity. -Conceive what would be the feelings of veteran warriors, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -have dragged out the remnant of an existence spared by the -missiles and casualties of war, to see the flag beneath which their -blood has flowed insulted by its enemies. Some idea may then be -formed of the grief and rage which took possession of the people -of Lisbon. A torrent of bitterness deluged their souls. The sacred -standard which was thus supplanted was consecrated alike by religious -feelings and by secular remembrances of glory. It had -been given, according to popular belief, by Christ himself to -Afonso Henriques, the founder of the Monarchy, impressed by the -Redeemer with the marks of his Passion, for the five shields of the -conquered Moorish kings displayed on the Quinas were likewise -said to be typical of the Sacred Wounds, and with this other <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">labarum</i> -their new Constantine had been told to “go forth and conquer.” -“<em>Death to the French!</em>” was soon the cry, but the -cannon and paraded soldiery of Junot suppressed the insurrectionary -movement.</p> - -<p>The earthquake, stated in the text to have occurred at the period -of the French entry into Lisbon, is strictly historical. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Le lendemain -de l’entrée des Français on éprouva dans Lisbonne une -légère secousse de tremblement de terre, qui fit monter la mer sur -les quais.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre. Pénins.</cite> liv. ii.) Junot wrote thus -impiously concerning this event to the Minister of War, Clarke. -“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Les dieux sont pour nous; j’en tiens l’augure de ce, que le tremblement -de terre ne nous a annoncé que leur puissance sans nous -faire de mal!</span>”</p> - -<p>Napoléon’s treatment of Spain was not characterized by the -same daring recklessness, but by what must be regarded as unprincipled -profligacy. One of his own generals, Baron Foy, calls -the Spanish invasion “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">une traîtreuse usurpation.</span>”—<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre. -Pénins.</cite> liv. ii.</p> - -<p>A Spanish army entered Portugal under Junot in 1807, with -absurd and astounding ignorance mistaking the English for enemies, -and the French for friends, to both Peninsular countries. -The Marquis del Socorro, who commanded this army, was the tool -of the infamous Godoy and the French, and it is thus he spoke of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> -us in the proclamation which he issued at Oporto. He declared -his object to be “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">de vous délivrer de la perfide domination et de -la politique ambitieuse des Anglais. * * Tous ensemble, nous -vengerons les outrages que la férocité traîtresse des Anglais a faits -à toutes les nations de l’Europe!</span>”—Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire Guerre. Pénins.</cite> -liv. ii. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pièces justificatives</i>.</p> - -<p>The unsuspected testimony of Foy leaves the fearful iniquity -of Napoléon’s seizure of the principal fortresses of Spain -beyond dispute. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Il y eut,</span>” says he, “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">dans les moyens par -lesquels on s’en rendit maître, un mélange de l’astuce des faibles -et de l’arrogance des forts. On n’employa que la ruse pour Pampelune -et Saint-Sébastien.</span>” (liv. iii.) The following is his detailed -account of the seizure of these several fortresses:—The castle of -Montjuic at Barcelona was too difficult of approach for the troops -to reach it without being perceived. Duhesme went to the Count -d’Ezpeleta, Captain-General of the province: “My soldiers occupy -your citadel,” said he. “Open to me this instant the gates of Montjuic; -for the Emperor Napoléon has ordered me to place a garrison -in your fortresses. If you hesitate, I declare war against Spain, -and you will be responsible for the torrents of blood which your -resistance will have caused to flow.” The name of Napoléon produced -its accustomed effect. The Spanish General was aged and -timid, and the only instruction which his government had given -him was to avoid taking any step which might embroil them with -France. He resigned the keys of Montjuic, and General Duhesme -became master of Catalonia. Thus fell without striking a blow, -into the power of France, the largest city of the Spanish monarchy—a -city which a century before had struggled single-handed, after -all Spain had submitted, against the power of Louis XIV.</p> - -<p>The gates of the fortress of Pamplona had been opened to the -French general Darmagnac as to a friend. But the military authority -remained in the hands of the Viceroy, Marquis de Valle-Santoro, -and the volunteer battalion of Tarragona, 700 men strong, -was lying in the citadel, and performed the military service of the -place. Since Cardinal Cisneros, regent of Castile, dismantled all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -the strong places of Navarre, with the exception of its capital, the -received opinion has been that he who commands in Pamplona is -master of the province. To command in Pamplona, it is requisite -to obtain possession of the citadel. This fortress, built by Philip -II., contains within it extensive magazines for munitions of war -and mouth, and might hold out for an indefinite period. The -French soldiers came on fixed days, in undress and unarmed, to -receive their provisions in the interior of the citadel. The Spanish -troops maintained a strict guard upon these occasions, and never -failed to have the drawbridge raised during the entire time that the -distribution lasted. During the night of the 15th February, 1808, -Darmagnac collected 100 grenadiers at his lodgings, which he had -taken “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">non sans dessein</i>,” says Foy, on the esplanade which separates -the town from the citadel. They entered their general’s residence -with their firelocks and cartouches, one after the other, in -profound silence. At seven o’clock on the morning of the 16th, -sixty men went to receive their provisions as usual, but were commanded -by an officer of intelligence and daring named Robert. -Under pretext of waiting for the quarter-master, the men stopt, -some of them on the drawbridge and some beyond it. The drawbridge -was thus prevented from being raised. It rained; and some -of them entered the guard-house, as it were to escape from the -shower. “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">A un signal donné</i>,” (says Foy) they leapt upon the -arms of the guard, where they lay ranged at one side; and -the two sentinels were immediately disarmed. The Spaniards -could not extricate themselves from the hands of the French, who -filled the guard-house. Those who made any resistance were beat -with the butt-ends of muskets. By this time arrived the grenadiers -who had been lying in ambuscade at the general’s house. They -proceeded straight to a bastion of 15 guns, directed on the entrance -to the ditch. The forty-seventh French battalion, quartered -not far distant, followed close on the grenadiers. The rampart -was covered with Frenchmen, before the Spanish garrison, -shut up in their <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">casernes</i>, had even thought of putting themselves -on their defence. Darmagnac announced to the Viceroy and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -Council of Navarre that, as he would probably have some stay to -make in Pamplona, he had been obliged for the security of his -troops to introduce into the citadel a battalion which would do -duty there in concert with the national garrison—“a slight change, -he added, which, instead of altering the good understanding between, -them, should only be regarded as a tie the more between two reciprocally -faithful allies!”</p> - -<p>Ties of a similar character became established daily. Thouvenot, -General of Brigade, had been sent to San Sebastian, with a -commission to assemble in one dépôt the soldiers who arrived from -France on their way to join their respective corps in Spain. “This -dépôt (concludes Foy) becoming presently very numerous found -itself in possession of the place, without the detachments of the -Spanish regiments of the King and of Africa, who formed the garrison, -perceiving it. It is thus that the French became masters of -Figuera, Barcelona, Pamplona, and San Sebastian; and then their -military operations in the Peninsula became placed on a reasonable -basis! The mask was thrown off, the interested observers whom -Spain had received as allies, for a time dissembled their projects, -but they no longer sought to conceal the means which they adopted -for their accomplishment.”—<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre. Pénins.</cite> liv. iii.</p> - -<p>Yet these are the events which Thiers, in his <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire du Consulat -et de l’Empire</cite>, has the coolness to describe, without one -word of reprobation, censure, or comment, in the following words:</p> - -<p>“As soon as the French troops crossed the frontiers they were -quartered at Saint Sebastian, Pampeluna, Rosas, Figueras, and -Barcelona.”</p> - -<p>Of the character and deeds of Godoy, the chief actor in these -transactions, the following brief but on the whole satisfactory -sketch is given by Thiers:—</p> - -<p>“This man, whom an extraordinary degree of favour had raised -up to the supreme power in Spain, governed the state as an absolute -master for more than ten years; he had confirmed his power -by filling the government offices with his creatures. He had -become the dispenser of every favour and every boon, and was so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -completely the medium of the king’s decisions, that the monarch -answered to every applicant: ‘Call upon Emanuel,’—the prince -being named Emanuel Godoy. This supreme authority had stirred -up against him a general detestation, which had counterbalanced -the favour he enjoyed, because he had of course committed many -acts of injustice in building up his power. The Prince of Asturias -was in the cabinet; he likewise had to complain of the favourite’s -haughtiness, the Prince of Peace not fearing to irritate him by exhibiting -the source of a despotic sway which laid its burden even -on the successor to the crown. The Prince of Asturias became -his enemy, and lost no opportunity of contriving his destruction, in -which object he was encouraged by the opinion of the people.</p> - -<p>“On every side murmurs rose against the Prince of Peace; his -influence began to decline; and he was soon driven to his last and -lowest shifts to prop it up. <em>He had long since felt the necessity -of consolidating his power, and had striven by every art to acquire -the friendship of France.</em> His enemies availed themselves of -this circumstance to injure him, and charged him with treachery; -asserted that he wanted to sell Spain to France, and had reduced -her already to one of those vice-royalties obedient to the -Emperor.</p> - -<p>“On the other hand (so mutable and various is the public mind) -they attributed to France whatever evil afflicted Spain, and accused -her of supporting the Prince of Peace. This state of things every -day produced fresh bickerings between the partisans of the rival -princes; the counsels of the Prince Royal were not always prudent, -and he was induced by the aversion of the people towards his -powerful opponent to endeavour to quell the ambition of the -Prince of Peace by making him the victim of his immoderate thirst -for power. The favourite, foreseeing the coming catastrophe, and -all Spain in arms to crush and overthrow him, gave himself up for -lost, when the French troops advanced into the Spanish territory, -to execute the treaty of Fontainebleau, <em>of which he alone possessed -the secret, and which was not even signed</em>.”</p> - -<p>The Basque glories, which I have recorded in the ballad of “The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -Tartar Town,” are all strictly historical. The Basque dialect -was once spoken all over Spain, and is nearly identical with the -Tartar language. I use this supposed Tartar origin for poetical -purposes. Ever since the death of Ferdinand VII., the Basque -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">fueros</i> have been a constant bone of contention. Espartero -abolished, but Narvaez partially restored them. The only <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">fueros</i> -now retained are an exemption from duty upon stamps, salt, -and tobacco.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">III.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “A glory streamed around her, giant-strong.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>This stanza has been inspired by Murillo’s <cite>Immaculate Conceptions</cite>, -on whose wonderful beauties I have gazed for days at -Seville and Madrid.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">IV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Seemed as a rosebud gathering ere it blew<br /> -<span class="pad7">All forms of Beauty.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Als eine blume zeigt sie sich der welt;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Zum muster wuchs das schöne bild empor.</p> -<p class="verse16">Göthe, “<cite>Miedings Tod.</cite>”</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“She blossoms to the world like a flower; her beautiful form -grows up to be a pattern.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Oh Love, oh wedded Love, of life the balm!”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“You have reason to commend that excellent institution * * -the faithful nuptial union of man and wife that was first instituted.” -(Bacon, <cite>New Atlantis</cite>.) The same sentiments are still more nobly -expressed in Milton’s <cite>Tetrachordon</cite> and <cite>Doctrine and Discipline of -Divorce</cite>, where the poet, unshackled by his prose fetters, is still a -poet, glowing with fancy and with rare sublimity, and has given -expression to nobler sentiments on chaste love than any other writer, -ancient or modern.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The rapturous joy more rapture gave alone.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Tu mihi sola places; nec jam, te præter, in urbe</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Formosa est oculis ulla puella meis.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Atque utinam posses uni mihi bella videri.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tibul. 1. iv. 13.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2 pad3 noindent"> -“A stolen pressure of the hand, a tone<br /> -Unheard save by one ear.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Fallendique vias mille ministrat Amor!</p> -<p class="verse16">Tibul. 1. iv. 6.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“A language dead to all save lovers.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">O quanta dulce imagen,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Quantas tiernas palabras</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Alli diré, que el labio</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Quiere decir, y calla.</p> -<p class="verse16">Cienfuegos.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2 pad3 noindent"> -“And bend, oh bend those glorious eyes<br /> -Upon thy slave once more, once more.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Medid el ayre de unos bellos ojos,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Y me direys del cielo al suelo el trecho.</p> -<p class="verse16">Lope de Vega, <cite>Angelica</cite>, iii.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">X.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Like Clytemnestra’s son by Furies driven.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——“Ereptæ magno inflammatus amore</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Conjugis, et scelerum furiis agitatus Orestes.”</p> -<p class="verse16">Virg. <cite>Æn.</cite> iii. 330.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὅμως δὲ φεῦγε, μηδὲ μαλθακὸς γένῃ·</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἐλῶσι γάρ σε καὶ δι’ ἠπείρου μακρᾶς</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Βεβῶτ’ ἀνατεὶ τὴν πλανοστιβῆ χθόνα,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὑπέρ τε πόντον, καὶ περιῤῥύτας πόλεις.</p> -<p class="verse16">Æschyl. <cite>Eumen.</cite> 74.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Fly! nor inert become. For they (the Furies) shall pursue -thee through the long continent, passing untired through the -wanderer-trodden earth, through the sea, and the sea-girt -cities!”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> —“Through her, too, passed the steel!”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Cujus animam gementem * *</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pertransivit gladius!</p> -<p class="verse10"><span class="smcap">Antiphonar. Rom.</span> “<cite>Stabat Mater.</cite>”</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “As each the other’s head had joyous rent,<br /> -<span class="pad8">And gnawed like Ugolino.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Quandò ebbe detto ciò, con gli occhi torti</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Riprese il teschio misero co’ denti,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Che furo all’ osso, come d’un can forti.</p> -<p class="verse16">Dante, <cite>Inferno</cite>, c. xxx.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Of Spain’s defenders see the bayonets gleam,<br /> -<span class="pad8">And lust and plunder the defenders’ aim!”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Wir zogen in feindes land hinein,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Dem freunde sollt’s nicht viel besser seyn.</p> -<p class="verse16">Göthe, “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ich hab’ mein sach</i>.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“We marched into the enemy’s land; our friends they fared no -better.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And murdered sleep wakes wild from sanguinary dreams.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">—φόβος γὰρ ἀνθ’ ὕπνου παραστατεῖ,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Τὸ μὴ βεβαίως βλέφαρα συμβαλεῖν ὕπνῳ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Æschyl. <cite>Agamem.</cite> 14.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“For Fear doth stand me in the place of sleep, lest closely I -shut my eye-lids.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Spain’s disasters from their primal source.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Dii multa neglecti dederunt</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Hesperiæ mala luctuosæ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Horat. <cite>Carm.</cite> iii. 6.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The judge perverts to more pervert the law.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“They heard sworn judges of the law adjudge, upon such -grounds and reasons as every stander-by was able to swear was -not law.”—Clarendon, <cite>Hist. Great Rebel.</cite> i.</p> - - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Gives Demon-forms of hate the guise of saints.”<br /> -</p> - -<p><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Cette question curieuse—savoir, s’il est permis aux jesuites -de tuer les jansenistes!”—Pascal, <cite>Lettres Provinciales</cite>, tome i.</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The Holy Office Hell delighted saw!”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The operation of the Spanish Inquisition in an intellectual point -of view may be inferred from the character of the Index Expurgatorius -which was affixed in the different churches. On these -prohibitory lists, by the side of the great names of Montesquieu, -Robertson, and Filangieri were to be found the titles of the filthiest -French romances.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “In sullen, fierce indifference bide till rent<br /> -<span class="pad8">The thunder-clouds, supine—and some on Vengeance bent.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλ’ ὦ πατρῷα γῆ, θεοί τ’ ἐπόψιοι,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Τίσασθε, τίσασθ’ ἀλλὰ τῷ χρόνῳ ποτε.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Philoct.</cite> 1040.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“But, oh father-land and all-seeing Gods! avenge, avenge at -length in fitting time!” It may here be seen how unfounded is -the claim of the Germans to the originality of their phrase -“Vaterland.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And secret treaties had the recreant drawn<br /> -<span class="pad8">With Hell’s diplomacy our soil to carve.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">O embajadores, puros majaderos!</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Que si los reyes quieren engañar,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Comienzan por nosotros los primeros.</p> -<p class="verse16">Diego de Mendoza.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Oh Ambassadors, mere utterers of silly speeches! If Kings -wish to deceive, they begin by deceiving us the first!” So writes -the renowned Mendoza to his brother-diplomatist, Zuñiga. Mendoza, -one of the most illustrious of the political, military, and -literary worthies of Old Spain, was Ambassador for Charles V. to -Rome, and is still more celebrated as the author of <cite lang="es" xml:lang="es">Lazarillo de -Tormes</cite>.</p> - -<p><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Entant que souverain, s’il parle selon sa pensée, il vous dira, -j’observerai le traité de paix, pendant que le bien de mon royaume -le demandera; je me moquerai de mon serment, des que la maxime -de l’état le voudra.”—Bayle, <cite>Dict. Hist. et Crit. art. Agesilaus</cite>.</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “His curling wave receding,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Vidimus flavum Tiberim retortis, &c.—Horat. <cite>Carm.</cite> i. 2.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse10" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">——Guadiana</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Atraz tornou as ondas de medroso:</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Correo ao mar o Tejo duvidoso.</p> -<p class="verse16">Camóens, <cite>Lus.</cite> iv. 28.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Sinks o’er his golden sands, and sighing wears the chain.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse4" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——Amnis aurifer Tagus.</p> -<p class="verse12">Catul. xxvii.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And Priests profane declared thy conquerors sent by God!”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Dizei-lhe que tambem dos Portuguezes</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Alguns traidores houve algumas vezes.</p> -<p class="verse16">Camóens, <cite>Lus.</cite> iv. 33.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>I have had the satisfaction of visiting within the past year -all the scenes which form the historical portion of this Canto—San -Sebastian, Madrid, Badajoz the birth-place of Godoy, Lisbon, -Almeda, and a score of other localities consecrated by heroic or -saddening recollections. The toils of my pilgrimage will have -been amply repaid, if I have derived some inspiration from the -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">genius loci</i>.</p> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span><br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto VIII.</h2> - - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">With many a bitter thought and heavy sigh,</p> -<p class="verse2">The grave Salustian his discourse resumed:—</p> -<p class="verse2">“Iberia fell, my children—but her eye</p> -<p class="verse2">No pomp of battle, no big war illumed.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twas fraud and treason her destruction doomed!</p> -<p class="verse2">France came as an ally—her Lares seized—</p> -<p class="verse2">The joy-pealed cannon soon in hatred boomed.</p> -<p class="verse2">And reckless Murat well his master pleased,</p> -<p class="verse">His foul behests fulfilled, his rapine-thirst appeased.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“But vengeance ’gainst Godoy the people swore,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who counselled Carlos from his realm to fly,</p> -<p class="verse2">And sought in luxury on a foreign shore</p> -<p class="verse2">The fruits of his portentous sway to enjoy.</p> -<p class="verse2">Aranjuez saw them burning to destroy!</p> -<p class="verse2">Shivering in hideous fright, like beast of prey,</p> -<p class="verse2">Two days, two nights, nor food nor drink Godoy</p> -<p class="verse2">Partook, till in his den its wolfish bay</p> -<p class="verse">The thronging city howled—they stoned him where he lay!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And mangled, bruised, and torn, from imminent verge</p> -<p class="verse2">Of death the Guard released him;—Carlos weak</p> -<p class="verse2">The crown resigned—grey hairs the victim urge,</p> -<p class="verse2">And, feebler still, Fernando strove to wreak</p> -<p class="verse2">His feuds upon a throne, where basely meek</p> -<p class="verse2">Full soon as fawning spaniel he doth woo</p> -<p class="verse2">The Gaulish tiger—all that France could seek</p> -<p class="verse2">Too little for his willing hand to do—</p> -<p class="verse">All contumelies for him, the Seventh Fernán, too few!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh galling, dismal servitude! The sword</p> -<p class="verse2">Which mighty Carlos at Pavía won</p> -<p class="verse2">The puny Ferdinand to France restored,</p> -<p class="verse2">While all through Spain the withering tidings run;</p> -<p class="verse2">And few believe what patriot ears doth stun.</p> -<p class="verse2">Wrenched from our armouries the trophy proud,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which proved how Franks of old must Spaniards shun;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Altemira voiced our shame aloud:</p> -<p class="verse">“The sword of Francis given to noblest hands” he vowed!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“But vain each sacrifice—each base compliance</p> -<p class="verse2">Still prompted France to urge ignobler claims,</p> -<p class="verse2">For Spain not yet had raised her proud defiance,</p> -<p class="verse2">And in Fernando’s youth reposed her aims.</p> -<p class="verse2">Fernando—he but gorged affronts and shames!</p> -<p class="verse2">The worshipped Heir of all her line of Kings</p> -<p class="verse2">His bannered Lion to a genet tames,</p> -<p class="verse2">Follows his aged sire to France, and flings</p> -<p class="verse">Iberia’s crown to earth beneath the Usurper’s wings!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh, wretched mockery of the forms of State,</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, farce of Royalty to choke the town!</p> -<p class="verse2">The sire to-day submits his brow to Fate,</p> -<p class="verse2">The son to-morrow yieldeth too his crown;</p> -<p class="verse2">The sire resumes it ’neath Napoléon’s frown,</p> -<p class="verse2">Again to-morrow to resign its cares—</p> -<p class="verse2">Is’t not, then just—how just! that, thus laid down,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Tyrant’s creature now the bauble wears?</p> -<p class="verse">The Father lauds the choice—the Son his ardour shares.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And both implored of Spaniards to obey</p> -<p class="verse2">With cordial loyalty the Kingling given,</p> -<p class="verse2">And both with impious tongue blaspheming say</p> -<p class="verse2">The usurping dynasty is blest of Heaven!</p> -<p class="verse2">But Spaniards may not thus be bargain-driven.</p> -<p class="verse2">Sudden arose the land in all its might;</p> -<p class="verse2">Sudden its chains like spider-threads were riven.</p> -<p class="verse2">Too long its slumber—too profound the night;</p> -<p class="verse">And when the Nation woke, ’twas in a glare of light!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh, Madrileños, generous, dauntless hearts,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who fell upon that glorious May-lit morn,</p> -<p class="verse2">Vain is the tear that from the eye-lid starts</p> -<p class="verse2">At thought of death-wounds all heroic borne,</p> -<p class="verse2">For Freedom’s blazon doth your biers adorn!</p> -<p class="verse2">Your blood more potent than Hyantian seed</p> -<p class="verse2">Sprung arméd men still fiercer death to scorn</p> -<p class="verse2">Than Thebæ saw. Incomparable deed!</p> -<p class="verse">Ye braved the Lion’s roar—your wounds Iberia freed.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“For though the sabre clove, the charger trod,</p> -<p class="verse2">The scattering grape-shot mowed your dense array,</p> -<p class="verse2">Daïz, Velarde gave their souls to God</p> -<p class="verse2">In no unprospering cause that gallant day!</p> -<p class="verse2">If hundred martyrs perished in the fray,</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twas myriad men to rouse through prostrate Spain.</p> -<p class="verse2">Not Murat’s arm could bend her to obey.</p> -<p class="verse2">Judicial murder bared the knife in vain—</p> -<p class="verse">The priestly rite denied—the unoffending slain!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Asturia first and noblest raised the cry—</p> -<p class="verse2">Cantabria still untamed the yoke to bear</p> -<p class="verse2">Our own Biscaya sees with Baston vie—</p> -<p class="verse2">Oviédo’s lightning flies to Santandér.</p> -<p class="verse2">It wakes Galicia, kindling Leon’s air.</p> -<p class="verse2">Castile, unconquered Aragon, Navarre,</p> -<p class="verse2">The standard of revolt successive bear.</p> -<p class="verse2">Valencian, Catalan, and And’luz far</p> -<p class="verse">The cry devoted raise: ‘Against the Invader War!’</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And lightning fell, ’twas said, upon the shrine</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Guadalupe within the fatal hour</p> -<p class="verse2">That saw the last of Leon’s Royal line</p> -<p class="verse2">Retire to France, and own the Usurper’s power.</p> -<p class="verse2">In Covadonga, where Mafoma’s flower</p> -<p class="verse2">Pelayo slaughtered, drops of sweat were seen</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the face of Her who stood our tower</p> -<p class="verse2">In battle; Compostella’s tomb a din</p> -<p class="verse">Of arms gave forth, Saint James proclaiming we should win!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Thus spoke the general voice—thus Spain believed,</p> -<p class="verse2">And, Heaven and Earth approving, rushed to arms.</p> -<p class="verse2">The web of Tyranny was swift unweaved,</p> -<p class="verse2">The land was soon o’erspread by War’s alarms;</p> -<p class="verse2">For Freedom’s fire once lit intensely charms!</p> -<p class="verse2">But terrible at first in dire excess</p> -<p class="verse2">Rude license many a timid patriot harms.</p> -<p class="verse2">If perished tyrant-tools yet, ah, not less</p> -<p class="verse">Good men, too, slaughtered fell in butchery’s helplessness.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“’Twas then the Asturian seniors crost the sea,</p> -<p class="verse2">And I amongst the number, as ye know,</p> -<p class="verse2">To Albion’s glorious Island of the free,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her aid demanding ’gainst the general foe.</p> -<p class="verse2">And grand and mighty was the enthusiast flow</p> -<p class="verse2">From brave and generous hearts we witnessed there.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our strife forgot, our feuds aside we throw,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like ancient warriors after battle share</p> -<p class="verse">The social rite, and war combined ’gainst France declare.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“But Spain would first her might unaided try,</p> -<p class="verse2">And arms and subsidy alone we sought;</p> -<p class="verse2">With pain Britannia curbed her spirit high,</p> -<p class="verse2">But doughtiest weapons to the strife we brought.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our earlier efforts in the conflict nought</p> -<p class="verse2">Availed us—France her legions marshalled well.</p> -<p class="verse2">Undisciplined our valour marvels wrought;</p> -<p class="verse2">But ’gainst Gaul’s serried phalanx to rebel</p> -<p class="verse">Was no light peasant’s task, and hundreds fighting fell.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh, wondrous power of Discipline in war!</p> -<p class="verse2">Spain’s men despised the conscript boys of France;</p> -<p class="verse2">Iberia’s sons were stronger, statelier far,</p> -<p class="verse2">More powerful arm to arm to wield the lance.</p> -<p class="verse2">But when untrained, disordered they advance,</p> -<p class="verse2">The unbroken, slender column mows them down.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis thus wild horses o’er the Pampas prance,</p> -<p class="verse2">The lasso by the light-limbed rider’s thrown,</p> -<p class="verse">The strong steed flung to earth his victor hand must own.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Joy to Valencia! Loud her praise be sung,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where first the stern Invader was repelled.</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain from Hell the assassin Calvo sprung,</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain her Chiefs in dire subjection held.</p> -<p class="verse2">Soon ’gainst his traitorous vengeance they rebelled.</p> -<p class="verse2">His strangled carcase on Domingo’s plain,</p> -<p class="verse2">His severed arm that many a victim felled,</p> -<p class="verse2">Inscribed with his foul deeds—relentless Cain—</p> -<p class="verse">Proclaim that murderous fiends no more dishonour Spain.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Joy to Valencia! From her leaguered wall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Full valiantly defended, Moncey flies.</p> -<p class="verse2">His shattered legions into fragments fall,</p> -<p class="verse2">So well her grape and musketry she plies;</p> -<p class="verse2">And torn his summons to surrender lies.</p> -<p class="verse2">This—this her answer:—‘We have sworn beneath</p> -<p class="verse2">‘Our country’s ruins buried, ere shall rise,</p> -<p class="verse2">‘A foreign standard here, to yield our breath,’</p> -<p class="verse">And France her flag withdrew all dark with hues of death.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“In Santandér Luarca’s mitred head—</p> -<p class="verse2">Apostle pure—the patriot movement guides;</p> -<p class="verse2">Priest, peasant, noble gallantly he led,</p> -<p class="verse2">But, ah, Besaya’s torrent yields its sides;</p> -<p class="verse2">The Frenchman through the conquered city rides.</p> -<p class="verse2">Palencia bows her head—Valladolíd</p> -<p class="verse2">Gives hostages; her might the Gaul derides.</p> -<p class="verse2">And Torquemada many a peasant-Cid</p> -<p class="verse">Sees ’neath French sabres fall her flaming towers amid.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh, ruthless grasp of the Invader’s hand!</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet not for this shall Spain his sceptre own.</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Te Deums</i> swell through all the land,</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain allegiance forced sustains his throne.</p> -<p class="verse2">Though rebels fall, rebellion hath not flown!</p> -<p class="verse2">Intrusive, throneless, crownless, mocking King,</p> -<p class="verse2">No Monarch reigneth save o’er hearts alone!</p> -<p class="verse2">A Tyrant sent thee, poor and bodiless thing,</p> -<p class="verse">But ne’er to rule in Spain—for flight prepare thy wing!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Unconquered Zaragoza shuts her gates;</p> -<p class="verse2">No fortress her’s, and scarce a circling wall.</p> -<p class="verse2">Enough that from her soul the foe she hates,</p> -<p class="verse2">And ’neath her ruined towers hath sworn to fall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or ere she live a foreign tyrant’s thrall.</p> -<p class="verse2">Sublime devotion! Palafox prepares</p> -<p class="verse2">The proud defence. His gallant soldiers all</p> -<p class="verse2">Obey his voice: ‘Who loves me with me shares</p> -<p class="verse">‘The city’s doom!’ Till death they guard their lion-lairs.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And many a rampart raised the citizens,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their puny wall with bristling men defending;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Tio Jorge and Marin from their dens</p> -<p class="verse2">Emerge their energies plebeian lending.</p> -<p class="verse2">On many a dire assault her efforts spending</p> -<p class="verse2">By Carmen and Portillo, still repelled,</p> -<p class="verse2">France hurls her shells the town terrific rending.</p> -<p class="verse2">The Moorish Cosso’s blown in air, and yelled</p> -<p class="verse">Is many a dying shriek, but still the rampart’s held.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Engracia’s stormed—the summons to despair</p> -<p class="verse2">Is oft repeated but as oft disdained.</p> -<p class="verse2">Though Zaragoza burn—though tortures tear,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her vigorous arms shall ne’er by France be chained!</p> -<p class="verse2">The foe hath entered and the Cosso gained;</p> -<p class="verse2">But desperate is the fight which there doth rage.</p> -<p class="verse2">Francisco’s convent burns, yet death fires rained</p> -<p class="verse2">More fiercely glare—such war did man ne’er wage.</p> -<p class="verse">Beside Numantine fame ’twill sound through many an age!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Within the Cosso’s wide and central street</p> -<p class="verse2">The foemen fierce contend from side to side.</p> -<p class="verse2">From roof and window hostile volleys meet;</p> -<p class="verse2">Each house a fortress, where assault is tried</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain—the very women far and wide</p> -<p class="verse2">Rain household gear and scalding water down.</p> -<p class="verse2">The black and shattered walls with blood are dyed.</p> -<p class="verse2">The dead in heaps putrescent grimly frown;</p> -<p class="verse">And pestilence doth threat the death-devoted town.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“In every street are rival batteries placed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Entrenched behind a bulwark of the slain,</p> -<p class="verse2">See where yon Zaragozan death has faced,</p> -<p class="verse2">Resolved a cannon of the Frank to gain.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Neath corse-heaped covert he hath passed a chain</p> -<p class="verse2">Round the huge gun—its end his comrades take—</p> -<p class="verse2">Their lusty sinews pull with might and main—</p> -<p class="verse2">The monster moves—but, ah, the chain doth break;</p> -<p class="verse">Yet soon as Night doth fall the prize their own they make.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Terrific sight—the hospital is fired,</p> -<p class="verse2">And maniacs issue from the blazing walls;</p> -<p class="verse2">Gibbering and mouthing ’mongst the soldiers tired,</p> -<p class="verse2">Even more than War their screaming wild appals.</p> -<p class="verse2">Some frantic laugh while of their number falls</p> -<p class="verse2">A victim smote—some mope—some mutterings blend;</p> -<p class="verse2">Some dance and sing amid the hissing balls,</p> -<p class="verse2">Some with hyæna yells the welkin rend,</p> -<p class="verse">And drivelling idiots cry while warriors fierce contend.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Glorious resistance! See—the French recede;</p> -<p class="verse2">To far Pamplona o’er the plain they pass.</p> -<p class="verse2">Heroic town! not vainly thou dost bleed,</p> -<p class="verse2">For thou art free, though all one bruiséd mass.</p> -<p class="verse2">No monument of marble or of brass</p> -<p class="verse2">Can rival, sufferer, thy eternal fame!</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor ’mongst thy patriots be forgotten Sass,</p> -<p class="verse2">The hero-priest who to the dying came</p> -<p class="verse">Now with the Host, and now against the foe took aim!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Nor dauntless Manuela be unsung,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who when her townsmen from the battery fled,</p> -<p class="verse2">With burning linstock to the rampart sprung,</p> -<p class="verse2">And mounting on the cannon vowed till dead</p> -<p class="verse2">Ne’er through the siege to leave its Gorgon head.</p> -<p class="verse2">Penthesiléa not more beautiful!</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor thou, Burita, sprung from noblest bed,</p> -<p class="verse2">And delicate as fair—of courage full—</p> -<p class="verse">’Mid showering shot and shell, as Hebe bountiful!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And, gallant Palafox, let bright-eyed Fame</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy praise resound, whom nought could turn or bend;</p> -<p class="verse2">For when no mandate but the word of shame</p> -<p class="verse2">‘Capitulation!’ France would deign to send,</p> -<p class="verse2">‘War to the knife!’ thy answer straight was penned.</p> -<p class="verse2">Worthy was all the heroic times of old.</p> -<p class="verse2">And monks were seen a warlike arm to lend,</p> -<p class="verse2">And cloistered sisters the cartouche to mould.</p> -<p class="verse">Though History rend each page, this, this shall be enrolled!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Her tercios Aragon, the Catalan</p> -<p class="verse2">His bold Somátenés equipped for war.</p> -<p class="verse2">Spain’s arméd peasants all her fields o’erran,</p> -<p class="verse2">But strife amongst the chiefs too oft a bar,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Valour weak indiscipline doth mar.</p> -<p class="verse2">At Rio Seco see the furious charge</p> -<p class="verse2">Of France’s chivalry like Aias’ car</p> -<p class="verse2">Mow thousands down beside the streamlet’s marge,</p> -<p class="verse">While o’er the affrighted plain their broken lines enlarge.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“But Vengeance comes! Beneath Morena’s shade,</p> -<p class="verse2">At Baylen see on Andaluzan plains</p> -<p class="verse2">Where sinks Dupont by olive-circled glade</p> -<p class="verse2">And deep ravine where blood like water rains,</p> -<p class="verse2">And wears his mighty host dishonouring chains.</p> -<p class="verse2">Castaños, Reding, bright your laurels shine,</p> -<p class="verse2">While prostrate ’neath your arm the Gaul remains;</p> -<p class="verse2">But, ah, perfidious snares your glory mine,</p> -<p class="verse">And butchery stains the steel which Conquest lit divine,</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“See—see, the Intrusive King o’er Ebro flies,</p> -<p class="verse2">In pale affright by Baylen’s victory driven;</p> -<p class="verse2">But tall Pyrene’s bulwarks o’er him rise,</p> -<p class="verse2">A shield impregnable to despots given.</p> -<p class="verse2">Dissolve, dissolve that towering rampart, Heaven!</p> -<p class="verse2">And aid our vengeful spear to hurl him back.</p> -<p class="verse2">By Spain’s right arm be Spain’s rude fetters riven.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our warriors move—of zeal there is no lack.</p> -<p class="verse">The Invaders feel their ire, like gathering thunder black.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And hangs upon their skirt with fierce annoy</p> -<p class="verse2">The mountain Guerrillero tiger-springing,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Chapelchurri burning to destroy,</p> -<p class="verse2">From heights around Bilbaö vengeance winging,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Chapelgorri with his musket ringing,</p> -<p class="verse2">A dearer Chacolin—the Frenchman’s blood—</p> -<p class="verse2">Thirsting to pour, the rich libation flinging</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er crag and spray—their dainty flesh the food</p> -<p class="verse">Of vulture screaming fierce, and kite, and raven’s brood.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“But weak the impulse, uncombined the assault;</p> -<p class="verse2">Divisions, jealousies, our councils blight.</p> -<p class="verse2">Too oft on Victory’s field our leaders halt,</p> -<p class="verse2">And leave unplucked the fruit that gleams in sight:</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, that our men had Chiefs to lead them right.</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain! France rallies through the land once more.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our peasant warriors gather to the fight,</p> -<p class="verse2">But compact serried legions gall them sore.</p> -<p class="verse">The soiled Escorial holds the Usurper as before!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“To Albion now Hesperia turns her eyes;</p> -<p class="verse2">Though bloodshot all and weeping, proud her gaze;</p> -<p class="verse2">For still her spirit doth unconquered rise,</p> -<p class="verse2">And still she struggles to the world’s amaze.</p> -<p class="verse2">Swift Albion answers to the call we raise,</p> -<p class="verse2">And sends to aid our arms a gallant host.</p> -<p class="verse2">Around her swords the light triumphant plays</p> -<p class="verse2">Of many a field where perished Gallia’s boast,</p> -<p class="verse">And see her fleet descend on Lusitania’s coast.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“For vain, too, there hath Gaul her efforts found.</p> -<p class="verse2">Our kinsmen scorn to wear a foreign chain.</p> -<p class="verse2">Indignantly they rise their Tyrants round,</p> -<p class="verse2">And bear the Freeman’s threatening port, like Spain.</p> -<p class="verse2">But feeble, too, the bands of Lusitain</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst veteran cohorts battling all through life.</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur comes from England to maintain</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy contest, Liberty. With ardour rife</p> -<p class="verse">His warriors reach the shore, and gird them for the strife.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Upon thy beauteous banks, Mondégo, where</p> -<p class="verse2">The cry of murdered Iñez lingers still,</p> -<p class="verse2">And faithful Pedro’s grief the breeze doth bear</p> -<p class="verse2">In many a sigh from fair Coimbra’s hill,</p> -<p class="verse2">There Albion’s heroes land. Rude blasts and chill</p> -<p class="verse2">Blow from the Atlantic. On Boarcos’ crags</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many a soldier perisheth. But will</p> -<p class="verse2">Indomitable their’s—nor Lusia lags;</p> -<p class="verse">Priest, student, peasant, crowd ’neath azure-crimson flags.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Hark to the footfall fierce and measured tread</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Britain’s legions o’er the affrighted ground,</p> -<p class="verse2">While martial music’s stirring voice is shed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Enthusiast Valour waking at the sound.</p> -<p class="verse2">Trombone and cornet make the heart to bound,</p> -<p class="verse2">The deep bassoon and clarion shrill afar</p> -<p class="verse2">Their echoes send—the mellow horn around</p> -<p class="verse2">Gives softer notes, ring fifes their merry bar,</p> -<p class="verse">And rolls the doubling drum to stimulate the War.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Roriça, hail! Vimièiro, blest thy sod!</p> -<p class="verse2">For there the might of France is hurled to dust.</p> -<p class="verse2">The robber-host is victory-smote by God.</p> -<p class="verse2">Junot retires with all his spoils unjust,</p> -<p class="verse2">But sated once for aye his gory lust!</p> -<p class="verse2">And other fields by England’s might are tried,</p> -<p class="verse2">In Heaven and in her arm reposing trust.</p> -<p class="verse2">Corunna’s heights see crushed the Gaulish pride,</p> -<p class="verse">But sad the victory gained where Moore heroic died.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And rushed great Arthur to the field again,</p> -<p class="verse2">And conquest o’er his helm unceasing played.</p> -<p class="verse2">On many a dire, tremendous battle plain</p> -<p class="verse2">The eagle-crest of Gallia low he laid,</p> -<p class="verse2">The arms allied in all triumphant made.</p> -<p class="verse2">My soul doth grow more tranquil—blame him not,</p> -<p class="verse2">If ruffian-soldiers’ deeds his laurels shade;</p> -<p class="verse2">Too oft in Victory justice is forgot,</p> -<p class="verse">Too oft are arméd men like fiends when passion’s hot.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh Death in battle! Glory thou art called,</p> -<p class="verse2">When stirred the fervent blood to seething strife;</p> -<p class="verse2">But Man prefers thee peaceful coffined, palled,</p> -<p class="verse2">And shudders unprepared to yield The Life;</p> -<p class="verse2">For, oh, with terror the dark shore is rife!</p> -<p class="verse2">Who in precipitate Death would choose to miss</p> -<p class="verse2">The pillow tended by the loving wife,</p> -<p class="verse2">The dying hand stretched forth to her to kiss,</p> -<p class="verse">The last words whispered low, surviving Memory’s bliss!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“That word recalls, my girls, your mother dead,</p> -<p class="verse2">And brings to these weak eyes a sacred tear.</p> -<p class="verse2">Belov’d Juana! round thy honoured head</p> -<p class="verse2">Celestial glory beams, yet, oh, look here,</p> -<p class="verse2">And shed protection o’er thy children dear!”</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian ceased—he kist the foreheads pure</p> -<p class="verse2">Of both his weeping daughters, Carlos near</p> -<p class="verse2">Impatient stood, his eyes with ceaseless lure</p> -<p class="verse">Tow’rds the lance-casement drawn, where Morn’s first glimmerings pour.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A day of terror to a night of gloom</p> -<p class="verse2">Succeedeth; light reveals no glimpse of joy.</p> -<p class="verse2">But rends the Sun the veil from living tomb,</p> -<p class="verse2">To show how swift can ruffians armed destroy.</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy treasures, San Sebastian, a decoy,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy household gods are shivered into dust!</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor yet upon thy fell invaders cloy</p> -<p class="verse2">Barbarian violence and Rapine’s lust.</p> -<p class="verse">The thunder-storm hath ceased—but, Heaven, thy arm is just!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Thou wilt not go—thou wilt not, Carlos, leave</p> -<p class="verse2">“Thy Isidora’s side—thy life expose.</p> -<p class="verse2">“What boots their plunder? ’Tis for thee I grieve,</p> -<p class="verse2">“Alone—unaided, amongst ruffian foes.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Father, I dread the worst if Carlos goes.”</p> -<p class="verse2">But Carlos kist her tenderly, and said:</p> -<p class="verse2">“No danger fear, <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">mi alma</i>, blushful rose!</p> -<p class="verse2">“I will be careful for thy sake—this head</p> -<p class="verse">“Bright Heaven is sure to shield—an Angel I would wed!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Don Carlos wended to Salustian’s home;—</p> -<p class="verse2">A smouldering heap of ruins met his gaze!</p> -<p class="verse2">And rifled remnants of that noble dome</p> -<p class="verse2">Drunk grenadiers transported through the blaze.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, who shall paint his horror and amaze!</p> -<p class="verse2">He took by the throat the first who crost his path.</p> -<p class="verse2">Red bayonets flashed beneath the autumnal rays;</p> -<p class="verse2">But buckled to his side a sword he hath,</p> -<p class="verse">And many a victim falls a prey to Carlos’ wrath.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now thronged the soldiery, and Carlos prest</p> -<p class="verse2">By numbers fought full long with valour rare;</p> -<p class="verse2">Till faint and bleeding from his wounded breast,</p> -<p class="verse2">He gained once more the mute Cathedral square.</p> -<p class="verse2">But, ah, the bloodhounds tracked him to his lair,</p> -<p class="verse2">And forced an entrance to the sacred pile.</p> -<p class="verse2">His blood doth guide them up the belfry stair.</p> -<p class="verse2">They reach the door—they burst it in—the while</p> -<p class="verse">Young Isidora screams, and laugh those demons vile.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Grey-haired Salustian feebly snatched a sword,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Carlos strove to lift—but falls his hand.</p> -<p class="verse2">Clasped to her breast the maiden her adored,</p> -<p class="verse2">And wildly shrieking Isabel doth stand,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor for her clamour cared the ruthless band.</p> -<p class="verse2">They charged impetuous, as the breach were still</p> -<p class="verse2">Before them—fell that chieftain in the land,</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian, piercéd—Carlos they did kill</p> -<p class="verse">In Isidora’s arms, where spouts a crimson rill!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Fell to the ground his corse—the maiden stood,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like Horror’s statue, chained unto the floor.</p> -<p class="verse2">Flowed round her lovely feet a stream of blood,</p> -<p class="verse2">New reeking monsters reeled in at the door.</p> -<p class="verse2">Hell glared i’ their drunken glance. An instant more,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Honour’s soul had perished. In their eyes</p> -<p class="verse2">She reads her doom. A fiend through slippery gore</p> -<p class="verse2">Advanced—in front the casement open lies.</p> -<p class="verse">She leaps—Archangels weep at Virtue’s sacrifice!</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO VIII.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">For the long series of historical incidents, of which this Canto -records only as much as appears to come within the province of -poetry, the reader is referred to the Histories of Napier and -Southey, and to Thiers’s <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Histoire du Consulat et de l’Empire</cite>, as -well as to the work of Foy, which will bear comparison with any -of those mentioned.</p> - -<p>With regard to Godoy’s character and conduct, I have read most -carefully his <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mémoires</cite> published some years back in Paris; but -to many of the statements in that book it is impossible to give -credit, and to the view which I have taken of his career in this -and the last Canto I cannot but strongly adhere.</p> - -<p>Foy thus describes him and the Royal family of Spain:—</p> - -<p>“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">On vit Godoy s’élancer de la couche adultère de la reine aux -premiers grades de la milice, à la présidence des conseils, au gouvernement -absolu de la paix et de la guerre. * * Le roi -d’Espagne n’avait pas quarante mils soldats en Europe. Ses arsenaux -étaient dégarnis, son trésor était vide. Les dons patriotiques -arrivèrent de toutes part. La Catalogne demanda à se lever en -masse. Les provinces de Biscaye et de Navarre firent des appels -à la population. Les grands seigneurs accoururent à la tête de -leurs vassaux. Les moines arrivèrent enrégimentés. Des bandes -de contrebandiers, oubliant leurs démêlés habituels avec le gouvernement, -demandèrent à combattre les ennemis du trône et -de l’autel. Tous les états, tous les rangs voulurent vaincre ou -mourir pour la patrie. Quel parti tira le gouvernement espagnol -de tant de dévouement? * * Le général des Franciscains -offrit de marcher à la tête de dix mille moines. Le duc d’Albe -et deux autres seigneurs voulurent lever dix mille hommes à leurs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -frais. Le chapitre de Toléde offrit vingt-cinq millions de réaux. Le -clergé parcourait les villages le crucifix à la main.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. -Guerre. Pénin.</cite> liv. iv.) All was useless. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Aucun exploit, aucune -vertu, n’honorèrent sa jeunesse, il n’avait pas tiré l’épée pendant la -guerre. Il ne montra pendant la paix ni talent dans les conseils, -ni détermination dans le gouvernement.</span>” (<em>Ibid.</em>)</p> - -<p>A curious parallel for the fortune of Godoy, and for the popular -hatred which he excited, is to be found in Horace:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>Ibericis</em> peruste funibus latus,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Licèt superbus ambules pecuniâ,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Fortuna non mutat genus.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Videsne, sacram metiente te viam,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Cum bis ter ulnarum togâ,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ut ora vertat huc et huc euntium</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Liberrima indignatio?</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Arat Falerni mille fundi jugera,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Et Appiam mannis terit;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Sedilibusque magnus in primis eques,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Othone contempto, sedet!”</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Epod.</cite> iv.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>Menas, Pompey’s freedman, and Augustus’s Tribune, a double -and impartial traitor, to whom this ode was addressed, was the -Godoy of ancient Rome.</p> - -<p>The Massacre of Madrid on the memorable Second of May did -not happily involve so much bloodshed as for a long period had -been imagined. The exaggeration common to all countries in -commemorating their patriotic struggles, and especially so in the -Peninsula, had fully quadrupled the number of martyrs who fell -upon that occasion. Recent minute inquiries have confirmed the -statement of Napier that the entire number of the Madrid population -slain in this massacre did not exceed 200. The real name -of the “Daïz” in the text was Daoiz. The shootings subsequent -to the street massacre took place, as I have recorded them, under -circumstances which in Spain were necessarily regarded as of -excessive atrocity, the denial of the assistance of clergy, which by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -Frenchmen was lightly considered, being in Spanish eyes the acmé -of horrors. The supposed miraculous appearances in the Northern -provinces are derived from Foy’s <cite>History</cite>.</p> - -<p>For the circumstances of the rising which followed throughout -Spain the reader is referred to Napier and to Southey, whose description -of the Siege of Zaragoza I have followed because it is the -more poetical, although I cannot refrain from remarking that it is -disfigured by occasional passages of exaggeration and bombast -not altogether worthy of an historical work.</p> - -<p>The state of political knowledge in Spain at the period of the -French invasion may be inferred from the character of the questions -treated by their publicists. An old Spanish political writer, -held in the greatest esteem down to that period, D. Diego Saavedra -Faxardo, formally discusses this thesis: Whether is it better for -a prince to delegate his authority to one or many? and concludes -in favour of delegation to a single person, for the following reason, -stated in his own words: “That the King is the image of the sun, -and when the sun disappears from the horizon, he leaves to one -only, the moon, and not to several, the care of presiding over the -night!” The political work from which this morçeau is extracted -was composed for the instruction of the Prince of the Asturias, -who afterwards became Carlos II. It was long the French system -to keep Spain in this state of pupillage. Choiseul, the ablest -minister of France during the 18th century, said that he was more -certain of his preponderance in the cabinet of Madrid than in that -of Versailles! He said this in the reign of Carlos III., the ablest -of the Spanish Bourbons. Up to the end of the last century, -France was the planet, and Spain the satellite.</p> - -<p>The first era of the Peninsular campaigns comprised our two -first victories of Roriça and Vimieiro, more intrinsically glorious -perhaps, than any of their successors, but rendered futile in their -consequences by the mistaken generosity of concession which characterized -the Convention of Cintra.</p> - -<p>The second period of the War was commenced by the battle of -Talavera, previously to which Wellington found the Spanish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -General Cuesta equally unmanageable, stubborn, and foolishly -arrogant, as the Portuguese General showed himself on the eve -of the battle of Roriça which commenced the first period of the -War. In both cases the results were the same. After a great -deal of vapouring about “doing the business themselves and not -needing British assistance,” both worthies retired, leaving the -sole and undivided honour of each day to the genius and fortune -of Wellington. In the preliminary combat of Alcabon, the Spanish -division (4,000 infantry, 2,000 horse, and 8 guns) scampered -off from before the French, and it was manifest that they could -not be depended on. Wellington was therefore determined that -they should withdraw to Talavera, where there was strong ground -suited for defence, on which alone the Spaniards were likely to -make a stand. Cuesta boastingly replied that “he would fight -where he stood.” The 27th, at daylight, the British General -renewed his solicitations, at first fruitlessly; but when the enemy’s -cavalry came in sight, Cuesta sullenly yielded, yet turning to his -staff with frantic pride observed that “he had first made the Englishman -go down on his knees!” (Napier, <cite>Hist. W. P.</cite> b. viii. -c. 2.) In the next preliminary combat of Salinas, the Spanish -army to the number of 11,000 men (including artillery) threw -down their arms, and ran away, declaring that the Allies were -entirely routed! It might have been so but that their example -was despised. Thus undivided glory was thrust upon Wellington; -and ever after the part which the Spaniards took was very subordinate.</p> - -<p>After the battle of Talavera, the Spaniards were shamefully -defeated (having regard to the truth of History it is impossible -to use any other expression) by the French in two successive -actions—those of Arzobispo and Almonacid, at both of which -they threw down their arms and ran, and in the latter were -slaughtered in thousands—a result partly attributable to the -bad conduct of the men and partly to the bad guiding of -their commander, Cuenca, whose character was a concentration -of all the worst possible qualities of a General. “King” Joseph,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -who had retreated after the battle of Baylen, now returned to -Madrid. Embarrassed by these disasters, by the perfidious withholding -of supplies, by the perpetual crossing and opposition of -the Spanish juntas, which like those of Portugal, instead of an aid, -were for ever a thorn in the side of their Liberator, Wellington, -in the face of an overwhelming French force, took the resolution -of retiring into Portugal. The conduct of the Spaniards may be -best estimated from his own words, stating his reasons for declining -again to co-operate with them:</p> - -<p>“But there was a more shameful consideration, namely, the -constant and shameful misbehaviour of the Spanish troops before -the enemy. We in England never hear of their defeats and flights, -but I have heard Spanish officers telling of nineteen or twenty -actions of the description of that at the bridge of Arzobispo, -accounts of which, I believe, have never been published. * * * -In the battle of Talavera, in which the Spanish army, with very -trifling exception, was not engaged—whole corps threw away their -arms, and ran off, when they were neither attacked nor threatened -with an attack. When these dastardly soldiers run away, they -plunder everything they meet. In their flight from Talavera they -plundered the baggage of the British army, which was at that -moment bravely engaged in their cause.”</p> - -<p>When Wellington came to this resolution to retire into Portugal, -he was at the head of only 17,000 British troops of all arms; the -“terror-stricken Spaniards” were literally an incumbrance. (Napier, -<cite>Hist. W. P.</cite> b. viii. c. 5.) Our troops, through the faithlessness -of their allies, were almost starving, and they were confronted -by 70,000 French! The wonder is that they were not -utterly and immediately crushed by the latter. But Soult was -the only great General then amongst the French commanders; -and the promptness is as much to be admired as the prudence -with which Wellington retired into Portugal.</p> - -<p>The Spanish army made some miserable attempts after this at -independent action against the French, which ended four months -after the battle of Talavera in the disastrous battle of Ocaña, one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> -of the most frightful routs recorded in history, where the whole -Spanish army of more than 50,000 men was destroyed, having -5000 killed and wounded, and leaving 26,000 prisoners, 45 pieces -of artillery, 30,000 muskets, and 3000 horses and beasts of burden -in the hands of the enemy! The French lost but 1700 men, -killed and wounded; and I must do them the justice of saying -that no exploit of ours in the Peninsula equalled this in its numerical -results; for God forbid that I should obscure the glory of an -enemy or gloss over the misconduct of an ally. The rest of the -Spanish army was subsequently defeated at Alba de Tormes, which -closed the campaigns of 1809.</p> - -<p>These scattering and consuming thunderbolts opened the eyes of -the Spaniards at last to the value of the British alliance, and threw -the defence of the Peninsula entirely into those heroic hands, by -which it was so brilliantly completed. The soldiery of Spain acted -thenceforth a subordinate part, and the boast after the battle of -Baylen, “We will not need the services of you <em>Ingleses</em>—we will -escort you home through France, but you will not have to strike a -blow!” was not again repeated. For six months of the next year -(till Wellington re-appeared on the scene) they continued their -despairing efforts against the French, but with uniform defeat and -failure. No fitting leaders appeared, and the efforts of the people -were worse than useless.</p> - -<p>The <em>third</em> era of the Peninsular campaigns commenced with the -third invasion of Portugal by the French army, which was this -time commanded by Massena. The battle of Busaco was the great -event of the commencement of this campaign. This powerful -check was for the time successful, but unable long to control a -far superior force, and the British army fell back within the lines -of Torres Vedras. Massena arrived in front of them, and made -prodigious efforts to pass. But this triumph of Wellington’s genius, -and marvel of engineering and strategic skill, was impregnable to -all assaults, and was at once the salvation of Portugal and the -ultimate means of rescuing Spain from the Invader. Emerging -from his unassailable redoubt, Wellington at last pursued the French<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -beyond the frontier, and defeated them on the Spanish soil in -battle, action, and assault, from Salamanca to Vitoria, from Vitoria -to the Pyrenees.</p> - -<p>One can laugh at this distance of time at the monstrosities -written about these memorable struggles by French nobles and -generals. Thus Foy has the coolness to say of the relative numbers -at Vimieiro, “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Les Anglois étaient deux contre un par rapport -aux Français!</span>” (<cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre. Pénins.</cite>, livre ix.) He further -denies that it was <em>a battle at all</em>. “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ils n’étaient pas desireux de -changer un avantage défensif bien caractérisé en une bataille dont -le succès leur paraissait incertain!</span>” (<em>Ibid.</em>)</p> - -<p>The political sagacity and military skill of Wellington not only -maintained his position in the face of overwhelming difficulties, -but speedily took the offensive. The co-operation of (Lord) Beresford, -who was placed over the Portuguese army, organized by -the genius of Wellington, and led by British officers, must not be -overlooked. Massena was forced to retreat from Portugal; and as -he passed the border-line of the two Peninsular countries, Wellington -followed victorious and menacing, having achieved what -at first appeared utterly vain to attempt. The battle of Fuentes -de Onoro ensued, the French were forced to evacuate the fortress -of Almeida, and then followed a long career of victory to the British -arms, which was uninterrupted till our triumphant entry into Toulouse, -and the news of Napoléon’s abdication.</p> - -<p>The allusion in this Canto to the Basque Guerrillas needs a word of -explanation. The Chapelgorris and Chapelchurris are distinguishing -names of the Basque mountain peasantry, derived from the -colour of their caps. Chacolin is the thin, sour wine of the district. -During the late Carlist war, a considerable degree of romantic -interest attached to these peasantry for the keenness of -their partisan admixture in the strife. One of the most famous -events in the Carlist struggle was the siege of Bilbao, which was -raised by the Cristino General Cordova, and where the most -famous of modern Guerrilleros, Zumalacarregui, received his death-wound. -Had this most energetic of the Carlist Generals lived, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -war might have had a very different termination. It was he, who, -on the wretchedly unprovided state of his men as to arms being -remarked to him, pointing to the muskets in the Cristino battalions, -said, “There are their arms!” and contrived to arm them -very respectably by stripping the Cristinos in repeated brilliant -surprises. The circumstances of this rude but powerful hero’s -death are recorded in the Cristino song:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Ya vienen Chapelchurris</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Con corneta y clarin,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Para entrar en Bilbao</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">A beber chacolin.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Mal chacolin tuvieron,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Y dia tan fatal,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Que con la borrachera</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Se murió el general!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">I.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “’Twas fraud and treason her destruction doomed.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse10">Rancorous Despite,</p> -<p class="verse">Disloyal Treason and heart-burning Hate.</p> -<p class="verse16">Spenser, <cite>Fairy Queen</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">IV.</span><span class="pad10"> </span> “The sword<br /> -<span class="pad7">Which mighty Carlos at Pavía won,</span><br /> -<span class="pad7">The puny Ferdinand to France restored.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὦ σπέρμ’ Ἀχιλλέως, τἄλλα μὲν πάρεστί σοι</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πατρῷ’ ἑλέσθαι τῶν δ’ ὅπλων κείνων ἀνὴρ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἄλλος κρατύνει νυν, ὁ Λαέρτου γόνος.—</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Philoct.</cite> 364.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Oh, born of Achilles! the rest of what pertained to thy father -thou mayst take; but these arms another now possesses—Laertes’ -son!” Such was the answer of Ulysses to Neoptolemus, when -the latter sought the arms of Achilles, and such should have been -the reply of Ferdinand to Napoléon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80"><ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'XI.'">VII.</ins></span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And when the Nation woke, ’twas in a glare of light.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>See Wordsworth’s “Convention of Cintra.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">X.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Castile, unconquered Aragon, Navarre,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Com esta voz Castella alevantada</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Suas forças ajunta para as guerras,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">De varias regioens, e varias terras.</p> -<p class="verse16">Camóens, <cite>Lus.</cite> iv. 7.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “His strangled carcase on Domingos’ plain,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse4" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">——φρόνησον ...</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὡς νῷν ἀπεχθὴς δυσκλεής τ’ ἀπώλετο.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Antig.</cite> 49.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Remember, how he perished odious and infamous!”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Nor dauntless Manuela be unsung * *<br /> -<span class="pad8">Nor thou, Burita, sprung from noblest bed.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>These heroines were by no means singular in their courage and -constancy, at that eventful era. Blanca is, I trust, no inaccurate -type of that multitude of heroic women who sprang up in all -parts of Spain during the Peninsular War, who rose superior to -the weakness of their sex in the face of invasion and its attendant -horrors, and who resembled more the Antigones than the -Ismenes of ancient history. It was theirs to falsify the familiar -reproach:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">——γυνὴ γὰρ τἄλλα μὲν φόβου πλέα,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Κακή τ’ ἐς ἀλκὴν, καὶ σίδηρον εἰσορᾷν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Med.</cite> 266.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“For Woman is full of fear, and weak for the combat and at -sight of steel.” The heroic plebeian Maid of Zaragoza, and the not -less heroic patrician, Burita, were not of Ismene’s way of thinking, -which is nevertheless expressed with beautiful feminine propriety -(for common occasions):—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλ’ ἐννοεῖν χρὴ τοῦτο μὲν, γυναῖχ’ ὅτι</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἔφυμεν, ὡς πρὸς ἄνδρας οὐ μαχουμένα.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Antig.</cite> 61.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“But it is meet we think on this—that we are women, and unequal -to contend with men.” They rather said with Antigone:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse6" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">——σοὶ δ’ εἰ δοκεῖ,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Τὰ τῶν θεῶν ἔντιμ’ ἀτιμάσασ’ ἔχε. * *</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλ’ ἔα με, καὶ τὴν ἐξ ἐμοῦ δυσβουλίαν.</p> -<p class="verse16"><em>Ib.</em> 95.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Do thou, if so to thee seem fit, despise that which the Gods -deem holiest. * * But suffer me and my rashness!”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And cloistered sisters the cartouche to mould.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">O! decus, o! sacrâ fœmina digna domo!</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Fast.</cite> vi. 810.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Though History rend each page, this, this shall be enrolled!”<br /> -</p> - -<p>See Wordsworth’s “Convention of Cintra.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIX.</span><span class="pad6"> </span> “See the furious charge<br /> -<span class="pad7">Of France’s chivalry, like Aias’ car,</span><br /> -<span class="pad7">Mow thousands down.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Αἴας δὲ Τρώεσσιν ἐπάλμενος εἷλε Δόρυκλον κ. τ. λ.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὣς ἔφεπε κλονέων πεδίον τότε φαίδιμος Αἴας</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Δαΐζων ἵππους τε καὶ ἀνέρας.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Il.</cite> xi. 489.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Upon thy beauteous banks, Mondego, where,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">As filhas do Mondego a morte escura</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Longo tempo chorando memoraram;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">E por memoria eterna, em fonte pura</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">As lagrimas choradas transformaram:</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">O nome lhe pozeram, que ainda dura,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Dos amores de Ignez, que alli passaram.</p> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Vede que fresca fonte rega as flores,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Que lagrimas são a agua, e o nome amores.</p> -<p class="verse16">Camóens, <cite>Lus.</cite> iii. 135.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “But sad the victory gained where Moore heroic died.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>See the clear and affecting account of Sir John Moore’s last -moments, by the present Lord Hardinge, annexed to Mr. Moore’s -<cite>Narrative</cite>.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XL.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The pillow tended by the loving wife,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<p>See the beautiful speech of Andromache over the body of -Hector:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Οὐ γάρ μοι θνήσκων λεχέων ἐκ χεῖρας ὄρεξας·</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Οὐδέ τί μοι εἶπες πυκινὸν ἔπος, οὗτέ κεν αἰεὶ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Μεμνήμην νύκτας τε καὶ ἤματα δακρυχέουσα.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Il.</cite> xxiv. 743.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80"><ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'XXIII.'">XLIII.</ins></span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Thou wilt not go—thou wilt not, Carlos, leave,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse"><em>Clyt.</em> <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ποῦ σ’ αὖθις ὀψόμεθα; ποῦ χρή μ’ ἀθλίαν</span></p> -<p class="verse6"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἐλθοῦσαν εὑρεῖν σὴν χὲρ’, ἐπίκουρον κακῶν;</span></p> -<p class="verse"><em>Achil.</em> <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἡμεῖς σε φύλακες, οὗ χρεὼν, φυλάσσομεν.</span></p> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse"><em>Clyt.</em> “Where shall we again behold thee? Whither must I</p> -<p class="verse6">wretched go to find thy protecting hand?”</p> -<p class="verse"><em>Achil.</em> “We will guard you, when it is needful.”</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Iphig. in Aul.</cite> 1026.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“No danger fear, <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">mi alma</i>, blushful rose!”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Nè te, Altamoro, entro al pudico letto,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Potuto ha ritener la sposa amata.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Pianse, percosse il biondo crine e ’l petto,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Per distornar la tua fatale andata.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">“Dunque (dicia) crudel, più che’l mio aspetto</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">“Del mar l’orrida faccia a te fia grata?</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">“Fian l’arme al braccio tuo più caro peso,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">“Che’l picciol figlio ai dolci scherzi inteso?”</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, <cite>Gerus. Lib.</cite> xvii. 26.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “She leaps—Archangels weep at Virtue’s sacrifice!”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὦ τύμβος, ὦ νυμφεῖον, ὦ κατασκαφὴς,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Οἴκησις αἰείφρουρος * * κάκιστα δὴ μακρῷ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Κάτειμι, πρίν μοι μοῖραν ἐξήκειν βίου.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Antig.</cite> 891.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Oh sepulchre, oh bridal bed, oh earth-dug everlasting dwelling!—by -the worst of deaths I perish before the allotted day.”</p> - -<p>I visited in September last the principal historical scenes recorded -in this Canto—the Castle at Bayonne where Napoléon filched the -crown with such sinister dexterity from the old King, as well as -from Ferdinand VII.; the fine fortress at Badajoz where the miserable -Godoy was born; the museum of Armoin at Madrid, where, -alas, the sword of Francis the First surrendered at Pavía, <em>is not</em>; -and the monument in the Prado, erected to the memory of the -victims who fell on the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Dos de Maio</i>. I had previously visited -the fields of Roriça and Vimieiro, and made more than one pilgrimage -to Corunna.</p> - -<p>The name of the Maid of Zaragoza (in contradiction to all -English writers) I have fixed, upon Spanish authority, as Manuela -Sanchez.</p> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto IX.</h2> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A youthful Chieftain’s form as Phœbus fair</p> -<p class="verse2">An instant filled the door—then forward rushed:—</p> -<p class="verse2">“Back, villains, nor with deeds of carnage dare</p> -<p class="verse2">To stain the arms that late the Gaul have crushed!</p> -<p class="verse2">Not men, but demons—where the life-blood gushed</p> -<p class="verse2">Of all her tribe, this maiden would ye harm?”</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twas Nial! ’Neath his glance was instant hushed</p> -<p class="verse2">Each caitiff’s heart. With ill-disguised alarm,</p> -<p class="verse">They skulk aloof in awe. Such god-like Virtue’s charm!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">He takes the trembling maiden by the hand,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where huddled in a corner, nigh to swoon,</p> -<p class="verse2">Shuddering and paralysed, she scarce doth stand,</p> -<p class="verse2">And ill divineth what a priceless boon</p> -<p class="verse2">Hath Nial brought her that he came so soon!</p> -<p class="verse2">For ruffian violence her charms had eyed,</p> -<p class="verse2">And forward rushed to stain that peerless Moon,</p> -<p class="verse2">As Nial entered. Better in her pride</p> -<p class="verse">A million-fold to have like Isidora died!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Heaven, I ween, had sent the gallant youth</p> -<p class="verse2">To rescue Innocence in that dread hour,</p> -<p class="verse2">And show transcendent courage, manhood, truth</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er hell-born passion’s momentary power!</p> -<p class="verse2">He seized her hand—at first from him, her tower</p> -<p class="verse2">Of strength in peril, she withdrew in fear;</p> -<p class="verse2">But in his eyes she looked, and when the flower</p> -<p class="verse2">Of generous youth and beauty stood so near,</p> -<p class="verse">Her awe dissolved—her face was bright ’mid many a tear.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">As vines their tendrils curl round sturdy elms,</p> -<p class="verse2">As delicate flowers their heads bend to the sun,</p> -<p class="verse2">As ivy twines round oak in forest realms,</p> -<p class="verse2">As jasmine soft doth o’er the trellis run:</p> -<p class="verse2">So Isabel her soul doth throw upon</p> -<p class="verse2">Young Nial’s arm, reposing fearless there.</p> -<p class="verse2">His hero-heart her confidence hath won.</p> -<p class="verse2">So brave, so kind he looks that even Despair</p> -<p class="verse">His presence flies, and blood less direful hues doth wear.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">He spoke brief words—but deep, consoling, tender;</p> -<p class="verse2">Iberia’s language War’s quick ear had taught;</p> -<p class="verse2">His thrilling voice new confidence doth lend her,</p> -<p class="verse2">But tow’rds the floor her eyes an instant brought</p> -<p class="verse2">Sent back the flood of agonizing thought.</p> -<p class="verse2">And wild she cried, and frantic was her wail;</p> -<p class="verse2">And shuddering she nigh fell, till Nial caught</p> -<p class="verse2">The bruiséd lambkin in his arms, and pale</p> -<p class="verse">He bore her through the door, and fanned her in the gale.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Full slowly she revived, and Nial then</p> -<p class="verse2">An instant left her in the outer air,</p> -<p class="verse2">While to the chamber he returned again,</p> -<p class="verse2">And made her butchered kindred next his care.</p> -<p class="verse2">Joy! joy! Salustian upright sits, and spare</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy talons, Death, one victim: deep his wound,</p> -<p class="verse2">But yet not perilous. Nial straight doth tear</p> -<p class="verse2">His sash away, and swathe it firmly round</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian’s side, the blood he staunched, the gash he bound.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Salustian deeply groaned:—“Would I had died,</p> -<p class="verse2">Would Heaven that I had died this fatal hour!</p> -<p class="verse2">Where are my girls—my girls? Oh God,” he cried,</p> -<p class="verse2">“One dashed to pieces—in the villains’ power</p> -<p class="verse2">The other—Slay me! Hellhounds, all devour</p> -<p class="verse2">That owns me. Slay me! Oh, in mercy slay.</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet I’ll not leave my daughter sweet, my flower</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Beauty in their claws. Kites, Kites, I say,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where, hellkites, is my girl? My sword your lust shall stay?”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">He scrambled to his feet, then to his knees</p> -<p class="verse2">Fell weakly; but with sword convulsive grasped,</p> -<p class="verse2">And energy tremendous, Nial sees</p> -<p class="verse2">Him drag his body o’er the floor, which rasped</p> -<p class="verse2">His blade in dire excitement, while he gasped</p> -<p class="verse2">With nostril panting. Nial’s hand in vain</p> -<p class="verse2">His movement bars, till Isabel is clasped</p> -<p class="verse2">In her wild father’s arms, who shrieks amain,</p> -<p class="verse">Frantic with joy to think her Honour without stain!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And told young Isabel the debt she owed</p> -<p class="verse2">To Nial’s care, which soothed the old man much,</p> -<p class="verse2">And tears for his relief abundant flowed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Though thought of Isidora made him clutch</p> -<p class="verse2">His sword again. Oh villains, it might touch</p> -<p class="verse2">Your stony hearts, e’en your’s that did this wrong,</p> -<p class="verse2">To see its dire effect. Methinks, not such</p> -<p class="verse2">Are England’s men. I ween that ye belong</p> -<p class="verse">To some base mongrel breed, against the helpless strong.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Nial’s gentle voice the old man’s ear</p> -<p class="verse2">Like music enters. Slowly he doth rise,</p> -<p class="verse2">And ’neath the hero’s guidance without fear</p> -<p class="verse2">Father and daughter, yet with many sighs,</p> -<p class="verse2">A step advance. In vain Salustian tries</p> -<p class="verse2">The turret to descend—his wound too deep.</p> -<p class="verse2">A litter Nial’s active zeal supplies;</p> -<p class="verse2">And careful borne adown the turret steep,</p> -<p class="verse">Salustian soon within young Nial’s tent doth weep.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">While Britain’s columns fierce assault the town,</p> -<p class="verse2">Rages terrific strife without the wall;</p> -<p class="verse2">The elements with fierce, o’ershadowing frown</p> -<p class="verse2">Dashed through Pyrene’s wind-compelling hall,</p> -<p class="verse2">And storm within and storm without appal!</p> -<p class="verse2">The noble Soult of nobler Moore the foe,</p> -<p class="verse2">Of San Sebastian strove to avert the fall;</p> -<p class="verse2">And now Behobia’s broken arch below</p> -<p class="verse">By Biriatú he threats the Bidasoa’s flow.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">At Andarlása craggy mount and moor</p> -<p class="verse2">Girding the rapid stream forbid its verge;</p> -<p class="verse2">But Oyarzún not yet may sleep secure.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twixt Jaizquibel and crested Haya urge</p> -<p class="verse2">His fiery columns straining to emerge.</p> -<p class="verse2">See on the crownéd heights our forces rest.</p> -<p class="verse2">Zugáramurdi, Echallar a dirge</p> -<p class="verse2">May roar for him who dares the eagle’s nest.</p> -<p class="verse">Great Arthur guards the pass with high, heroic breast.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Not his the blame for San Sebastian’s deeds;</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the mountain-peaks he guides the war.</p> -<p class="verse2">No warning voice the ravening soldier heeds,</p> -<p class="verse2">And battling rides the Chief revered afar.</p> -<p class="verse2">To Fuentarabia’s walls our legions bar</p> -<p class="verse2">The French approach, and Bidasoa runs</p> -<p class="verse2">Round tall San Marcial’s foot their path to mar;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Spain hath banded there her warrior sons,</p> -<p class="verse">While o’er the river’s edge France points her thunderous guns.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">By Biriatú now Reille the river fords,</p> -<p class="verse2">And climbs San Marcial with his fierce brigades,</p> -<p class="verse2">But tangled furze and copse impede their swords.</p> -<p class="verse2">Confusion mixes skirmishers and aids;</p> -<p class="verse2">The mountain steep their forceful vigour jades;</p> -<p class="verse2">And dashing down its sides Spain’s columns rush.</p> -<p class="verse2">Before that charge the might of Jena fades.</p> -<p class="verse2">As reeds are swept beneath the torrent’s gush,</p> -<p class="verse">So headlong falls the Frank, and feels subjection’s blush.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But rapid Soult who notes the unequal fight</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er Bidasoa’s stream two bridges throws</p> -<p class="verse2">On barks securely moored and trestles light,</p> -<p class="verse2">And, quick, Villatte’s reserves their fronts disclose.</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er bridge and mount they fly to face their foes.</p> -<p class="verse2">San Marcial’s sides they climb, his shrine they gain.</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy line, Castile, an instant backward goes.</p> -<p class="verse2">But up great Arthur rides—the sons of Spain</p> -<p class="verse">Recall their strength, and hurl the foemen to the plain.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">For ’neath that mighty Chief’s commanding eye</p> -<p class="verse2">Impossible to sink or droop or quail.</p> -<p class="verse2">And Aylmer’s British-born brigade is nigh</p> -<p class="verse2">To baffle France if, Spain, thy sons should fail.</p> -<p class="verse2">A loud Castilian shout doth rend the gale,</p> -<p class="verse2">Acknowledging the Hero’s presence there.</p> -<p class="verse2">Full swift the Gaul is dashed into the vale,</p> -<p class="verse2">Urged to the brink of Bidasoa fair;</p> -<p class="verse">And drowned or slaughtered sink the victims of despair.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Soult from the summit of the Grand Monarque</p> -<p class="verse2">(For sight in mountain war is baffled oft,</p> -<p class="verse2">And loftiest points befit the leader’s mark)</p> -<p class="verse2">Beheld the dreadful rout and mourned aloft;</p> -<p class="verse2">Then urged his columns onward, gliding soft</p> -<p class="verse2">To Vera’s fords, his loud artillery’s roar</p> -<p class="verse2">Covering the stream. Our men derisive scoft</p> -<p class="verse2">To see his shells descend destructive o’er</p> -<p class="verse">His own astounded troops, their ranks molesting sore.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Ill brooks the Frenchman withering laughter’s scorn:</p> -<p class="verse2">The Lusitan brigade they swift assail,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose head by rapid fire is backward borne.</p> -<p class="verse2">With wondrous fleetness mounting from the vale,</p> -<p class="verse2">Rough Haya’s slopes the active foemen scale.</p> -<p class="verse2">But Inglis’ columns now the skirmish join,</p> -<p class="verse2">And soon Clausel is on the English trail.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Mid Haya’s dells and lofty ridges shine</p> -<p class="verse">For many an hour their fires along each broken line.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Joy! joy! the battle to the Frenchward side</p> -<p class="verse2">Is proudly borne, and pass Kempt’s rifles keen</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er Bidasoa’s stream, where swift they glide,</p> -<p class="verse2">In modest garments all of darkest green—</p> -<p class="verse2">A hue for special service chos’n, I ween,</p> -<p class="verse2">For England loves the daring and the frank.</p> -<p class="verse2">In brightest red her columns robed are seen,</p> -<p class="verse2">A mark inviting like the target’s blank;</p> -<p class="verse">And fair her mind is spoke, and fair her battle’s rank!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Kempt holds Lesaca, and the chain’s complete</p> -<p class="verse2">From Santa Barbara now to Haya’s crest.</p> -<p class="verse2">Clausel beholds the movement of defeat,</p> -<p class="verse2">And dreads to tempt the battle further west.</p> -<p class="verse2">Hill threatens D’Erlon at his Chief’s behest.</p> -<p class="verse2">Dalhousie, Colville gall the Gallic line;</p> -<p class="verse2">Girón’s Castilians aim at Conroux’ breast;</p> -<p class="verse2">The Lusitan battalion’s bayonets shine;</p> -<p class="verse">And swift the French are forced their stronghold to resign.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">See blaze their camp in fires terrific whirled</p> -<p class="verse2">By rising tempest-blasts along the sky;</p> -<p class="verse2">Tent, abatís, redoubt, and breastwork hurled</p> -<p class="verse2">To ruin far and near—below—on high.</p> -<p class="verse2">Red streams the fluttering canvass in the eye</p> -<p class="verse2">Of that autumnal sun—fierce embers flare,</p> -<p class="verse2">And strew the gale—fall blackening timbers nigh;</p> -<p class="verse2">Pyrene’s sides reflect the lurid glare,</p> -<p class="verse">And myriad crackling sparks are borne upon the air.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But now resounds the cannonade of Graham—</p> -<p class="verse2">That direful torrent o’er the stormers’ heads—</p> -<p class="verse2">And bids Soult pause. A moment grief o’ercame</p> -<p class="verse2">The hero’s soul—almost a tear he sheds,</p> -<p class="verse2">For ominous boding and profound he dreads</p> -<p class="verse2">The noble city’s fall. Yet firm he stands,</p> -<p class="verse2">And menacing the foe his phalanx treads</p> -<p class="verse2">San Marcial’s sides, where still their blazing brands</p> -<p class="verse">And glittering points of steel are swayed by sturdy hands.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And now the direful storm that fell when San</p> -<p class="verse2">Sebastian’s scarp was won the battle palls.</p> -<p class="verse2">The tempest louder shouts than warring man;</p> -<p class="verse2">San Marcial’s voice on Haya echoing calls,</p> -<p class="verse2">And rattles Jaizquibel his thunder-balls,</p> -<p class="verse2">Mocking weak mortals, far along the sky.</p> -<p class="verse2">Terrific lightnings o’er Pyrene’s walls</p> -<p class="verse2">Flash like the swords of mountain spirits on high;</p> -<p class="verse">And halts the strife of Man—his pellets cease to fly.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Louder and louder grows the tempest’s voice.</p> -<p class="verse2">From secular oak and pine huge branches riven</p> -<p class="verse2">Are whirled through air by winds that fierce rejoice;</p> -<p class="verse2">And trees for playthings to the blast are given,</p> -<p class="verse2">As howls the whirlwind breath of angry Heaven!</p> -<p class="verse2">And pettiest streams to cataracts are swelled,</p> -<p class="verse2">And torrents dash adown the mountain driven;</p> -<p class="verse2">While Druid stone and cairn are instant felled,</p> -<p class="verse">And boulders rolled along like pebbles are compelled.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Dismayed and scattered fly the rival hosts,</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many a Gaul in Bidasoa drowned;</p> -<p class="verse2">But, ah, no respite San Sebastian boasts—</p> -<p class="verse2">No truce proclaimed upon that fatal ground.</p> -<p class="verse2">Still havoc, plunder, stalk the streets around,</p> -<p class="verse2">Still bloodhounds bathe their sides in streaming gore!</p> -<p class="verse2">No angel-voice to plead for mercy found,</p> -<p class="verse2">No power to quell the fierce hyæna’s roar—</p> -<p class="verse">Even Hope doth seem to fly from that devoted shore!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Too dire the scenes that San Sebastian stain</p> -<p class="verse2">To leave Salustian safe within its wall;</p> -<p class="verse2">Young Isabel doth by his side remain</p> -<p class="verse2">In Nial’s tent, and soothe his sorrows all,</p> -<p class="verse2">But oft her face doth Isidor recall!</p> -<p class="verse2">Before the old man from the tower descended,</p> -<p class="verse2">Had Nial, fearful lest the sight appal</p> -<p class="verse2">Their eyelids, moved the shattered corse and tended</p> -<p class="verse">Its hurried funeral, where no tear with his was blended.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Blanca’s corse, her foster-sister fair,</p> -<p class="verse2">Was borne with flowrets strewn to Isaro’s isle,</p> -<p class="verse2">While snow-white banner trembled in the air</p> -<p class="verse2">Above the bark where cold she lay the while,</p> -<p class="verse2">To show her virgin spirit without guile!</p> -<p class="verse2">And while her sisters of the oar with long</p> -<p class="verse2">And pensive strokes, and thoughts that War revile,</p> -<p class="verse2">In mournful pageant tame the waters strong,</p> -<p class="verse">The Island coast they round with low funereal song.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And now with interest deep that hourly grew</p> -<p class="verse2">To tenderest love doth Nial oft behold</p> -<p class="verse2">Sweet Isabel, not formally to woo,</p> -<p class="verse2">But drink unconsciously a bliss untold</p> -<p class="verse2">From presence that his destiny doth mould!</p> -<p class="verse2">Her figure light and graceful as gazelle,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her eyes’ majestic orbs like starlight rolled,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her nature gentle yet with witching spell</p> -<p class="verse">Of buoyant life, upon his kindred bosom fell.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And felt the maiden boundless gratitude</p> -<p class="verse2">To him the saviour of herself and sire.</p> -<p class="verse2">Love when he comes doth little there intrude,</p> -<p class="verse2">With such devoted zeal she doth admire;</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis only kindling an intenser fire.</p> -<p class="verse2">Neither had noted the delicious hour,</p> -<p class="verse2">When mutual transport as in Heavenly choir</p> -<p class="verse2">Their souls united; but the common power</p> -<p class="verse">They owned with one accord—of hearts the richest dower.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">She loved him with a deep idolatry,</p> -<p class="verse2">So like a god he to her eyes doth seem,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who came from demon-hate her soul to free,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor shorn at times of a Hypérion beam—</p> -<p class="verse2">The very image of her virgin dream!</p> -<p class="verse2">Like to those angel-visitants descending</p> -<p class="verse2">To earthly loves in Time’s primeval gleam.</p> -<p class="verse2">And Nial joys her beauty in defending,</p> -<p class="verse">And deems celestial charms were ne’er so sweetly blending.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And while the father ’neath the daughter’s care</p> -<p class="verse2">Doth gather strength and resignation’s calm,</p> -<p class="verse2">Young Nial to the grave doth pious bear</p> -<p class="verse2">The corse of Carlos which their tears embalm.</p> -<p class="verse2">And Morton low reposeth ’neath the palm</p> -<p class="verse2">Of martyr-courage in the self-same grave.</p> -<p class="verse2">Funereal rite was none nor dirge nor psalm;</p> -<p class="verse2">But warriors mourned for them, the true and brave—</p> -<p class="verse">There sleep, young soldiers, well—for gallant souls ye gave!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Nial wept his faithful comrade dead,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like woman wept—nor blame his hero-soul,</p> -<p class="verse2">For many a fervid kindness done and said</p> -<p class="verse2">Rushed o’er his mind, and swept to memory’s goal,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till tears in torrents gushed beyond controul.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, tears are generous, noble! Tears became</p> -<p class="verse2">Achilles’ cheek, when Death Patroclus stole;</p> -<p class="verse2">His frame sharp anguish shook who shook the frame</p> -<p class="verse">Of Troy—nor, Nial, blush that thou didst weep the same!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Three days, three nights, Sebastian’s sack went on;</p> -<p class="verse2">And as in fire the earth will sink at last,</p> -<p class="verse2">And fire avenge the deeds that then were done,</p> -<p class="verse2">Through fiery scourge so San Sebastian past.</p> -<p class="verse2">Raged o’er the town, urged by the Atlantic blast,</p> -<p class="verse2">The red relentless flame, and to and fro</p> -<p class="verse2">Swept like a desert courser, lurid cast</p> -<p class="verse2">Its glare o’er Ocean, flashed above—below,</p> -<p class="verse">Till all was smouldering heaps of desolation, wo!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Biscayan Nereids! fill your urns with tears;</p> -<p class="verse2">With scent of gore the bloodhound’s on the trail.</p> -<p class="verse2">Mourn, Uruméan Naiads, plunged in fears,</p> -<p class="verse2">For shrieks portentous load the sighing gale</p> -<p class="verse2">From virgins all dishevelled, lorn, and pale;</p> -<p class="verse2">And stab and death-shot end what leers begin,</p> -<p class="verse2">And strong men fall o’erpowered, and seniors frail</p> -<p class="verse2">Are slaughtered with the babes of all their kin,</p> -<p class="verse">And vilest passions loosed—the Carnival of Sin!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh, spectral portent of Calamity!</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, ghost of violated Beauty smeared</p> -<p class="verse2">With blood and fiery blackness. See it, see</p> -<p class="verse2">Where War’s wild wave hath swept o’er homes endeared—</p> -<p class="verse2">All, all by Havoc’s burning ploughshare seared!</p> -<p class="verse2">An awful silence reigns, more horrid than</p> -<p class="verse2">The late artillery’s roar—a trophy reared</p> -<p class="verse2">To ruin in each street, that crimson ran.</p> -<p class="verse">A plague infects the air from piled, putrescent man!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Ay, thousand corses, shroudless, graveless lie,</p> -<p class="verse2">And flout Heaven’s nostril with their carrion hue.</p> -<p class="verse2">The iron hail is scattered far and nigh,</p> -<p class="verse2">And earth unnumbered fragments sadly strew:</p> -<p class="verse2">Wrecked lares—torn apparel—arms that slew</p> -<p class="verse2">Till butchery broke them, headgear, shell, and shot,</p> -<p class="verse2">But ah! no living thing—yes, one I view—</p> -<p class="verse2">A haggard maniac, crouched in loneliest spot.</p> -<p class="verse">The sole survivor he where slaughtered thousands rot!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Nor war’s dread engines yet have done their worst,</p> -<p class="verse2">For Mont’ Orgullo still by Rey is held;</p> -<p class="verse2">And o’er that stronghold falls a doom accurst,</p> -<p class="verse2">For ere he leave the Castle must be shelled.</p> -<p class="verse2">Nine days of horror by our cannon knelled</p> -<p class="verse2">Bring death to our own captives—on the tenth</p> -<p class="verse2">When Honour, grisly demon’s voice is quelled</p> -<p class="verse2">By glut of gore, he proudly yields at length,</p> -<p class="verse">Walks forth to beat of drum, and owns Britannia’s strength.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What art thou, Man, that mak’st a pride of strife,</p> -<p class="verse2">A glory of the sufferings of thy kind?</p> -<p class="verse2">That dar’st profanely sport with human life,</p> -<p class="verse2">And ev’n in cruelty canst greatness find?</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, steeped in folly, oh, intensely blind,</p> -<p class="verse2">And worshipping false Honour more than God,</p> -<p class="verse2">Of beasts derided is thy boasted mind!</p> -<p class="verse2">Fawn on thy gilded butchers, kiss the rod,</p> -<p class="verse">But deem not scenes like these have Heaven’s approving nod.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Not these thy triumphs, England! Ne’er again</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy soul shall covet save of Locrian power</p> -<p class="verse2">And intellect the glory! Beaconing men</p> -<p class="verse2">To happiness be thine—still Freedom’s tower,</p> -<p class="verse2">Still making every scowling despot cower</p> -<p class="verse2">By labouring mind alone! let Justice wrest</p> -<p class="verse2">The axe from War, and give to man her dower.</p> -<p class="verse2">Plant, plant the olive pure from East to West,</p> -<p class="verse">And bare not, save compelled, the sword ’gainst human breast!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Salustian quick regained his wonted strength,</p> -<p class="verse2">Such strength as leaves the feebler tide of life,</p> -<p class="verse2">And near Ernani—moved of moderate length</p> -<p class="verse2">The journey—to a house with comforts rife,</p> -<p class="verse2">His patrimony fair, where sound of strife</p> -<p class="verse2">There comes not. Grassy slopes and orchards gay,</p> -<p class="verse2">And sweetest daughter to replace a wife</p> -<p class="verse2">Embalmed in deathless memory, fill the day</p> -<p class="verse">With gentlest exercise, and health resumes its sway.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Nial oft on fiery steed doth ride</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er the brief space that sunders them, to mark</p> -<p class="verse2">The old man’s progress. Oft bright eyes replied</p> -<p class="verse2">In mutual glances blithe as song of lark</p> -<p class="verse2">At each returning. Soft, though lustrous dark,</p> -<p class="verse2">Beamed Isabel on Nial’s blue-eyed smile.</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian saw full clear the kindling spark,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor chid the flame that grew and spread the while,</p> -<p class="verse">Till Nial’s plighted troth was echoed without guile.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Her soul was all absorbed in his—her life</p> -<p class="verse2">Was cast, since meeting, in another mould.</p> -<p class="verse2">The cloud or sunshine, calm repose or strife,</p> -<p class="verse2">Must be together shared, the bliss untold</p> -<p class="verse2">Or mortal grief must Fate for both unfold!</p> -<p class="verse2">No thought her bosom entered but was Nial’s;</p> -<p class="verse2">Self-consecrate to him, her champion bold—</p> -<p class="verse2">His—his—though Destiny pour all its phials,</p> -<p class="verse">His—his ’mid love’s best joys or life’s acutest trials!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now tranquilly beneath the autumnal sun,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose beams the mountain breezes tempered bland,</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian, Isabel from sorrow won</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many an hour by wings angelic fanned;</p> -<p class="verse2">And oft within their lawn doth Nial stand,</p> -<p class="verse2">And pluck the golden apple from the bough,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or cull grapes purple-clustering for the hand</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Isabel—now plum or almond—now</p> -<p class="verse">The green and luscious fig, the peach with blushing brow.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And quiet smiled the old man, pleased to see</p> -<p class="verse2">A pair so formed for mutual happiness,</p> -<p class="verse2">So beautiful in different quality,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whom destined wedlock’s bonds ere long to bless;</p> -<p class="verse2">And as he feasted on their comeliness,</p> -<p class="verse2">At thought of Carlos and of Isidor</p> -<p class="verse2">A tear would gathering come—yet not the less</p> -<p class="verse2">He poured on these his deep affection’s store;</p> -<p class="verse">But rather, centred thus, his spirit entwined them more.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now all his momentary ire had ceased</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst Britain’s sons, whose high and generous hearts</p> -<p class="verse2">Partook no stain of deeds which are the feast</p> -<p class="verse2">Of felon-natures wielding Victory’s darts.</p> -<p class="verse2">And when for war again young Nial starts,</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian gives his blessing: Isabel</p> -<p class="verse2">With many a tear a treasured chain imparts</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Isidora’s hair and her’s: “Twill dwell</p> -<p class="verse">Next to my heart,” he said, as sobbed the maid “Farewell!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But, ah, the town Isaiah’s voice recals</p> -<p class="verse2">When mourned the awful prophet Zion’s doom,</p> -<p class="verse2">With battering nations camped around her walls,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till flames devouring chase the midnight gloom.</p> -<p class="verse2">Wo to thee, Ariel, wo, gigantic tomb!</p> -<p class="verse2">The Lord of Hosts shall visit thee with storm</p> -<p class="verse2">And thunder;—vengeful fires thy pride consume,</p> -<p class="verse2">In gory dust is laid thy beauteous form,</p> -<p class="verse">And as a dream of night thy agonies shall swarm!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">In after days, when Isidora long</p> -<p class="verse2">Had slept the icy slumber of the dead,</p> -<p class="verse2">The memory of her Beauty and her wrong</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er her still honoured name a lustre shed;</p> -<p class="verse2">And many a lover with her story fed</p> -<p class="verse2">The tuneful echoes of Biscaya’s plain,</p> -<p class="verse2">Told how all crimson ran her stony bed,</p> -<p class="verse2">How passed to bliss the maiden without stain,</p> -<p class="verse">And thus her early doom preserved in simple strain:</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">The Basque Lily.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Mourn Cantabria’s lily fair,</p> -<p class="verse2">Blooming soft like young Aurora;</p> -<p class="verse">Broken lies and bleeding there</p> -<p class="verse2">Beauty’s flowret, Isidora!</p> -<p class="verse">Honour’s martyr-crown she prized</p> -<p class="verse2">Life before and living splendour.</p> -<p class="verse">Ah, how fearfully disguised</p> -<p class="verse2">Is that blossom once so tender.</p> -<p class="verse7">Vascongada, mourn!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">2</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">Ne’er was such unfading truth,</p> -<p class="verse2">Love so pure beheld in maiden;</p> -<p class="verse">Never was such radiant youth</p> -<p class="verse2">With such boundless virtue laden.</p> -<p class="verse">Pity felt her heart for wo,</p> -<p class="verse2">For Iberia deep devotion;</p> -<p class="verse">While her damask cheek would show</p> -<p class="verse2">Of her soul the least emotion.</p> -<p class="verse7">Vascongada, mourn!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">3</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">San Sebastian’s daughters, weep,</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet a blessing call upon her;</p> -<p class="verse">Even the dread Cathedral leap</p> -<p class="verse2">Chose the maid before dishonour!</p> -<p class="verse">Red the lily, torn its charms,</p> -<p class="verse2">Fiery-tongued for pity pleading.</p> -<p class="verse">Carlos, ah, thy frozen arms</p> -<p class="verse2">Cannot fold thy angel bleeding.</p> -<p class="verse7">Vascongada, mourn.</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p> -<p class="p4" /> - -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO IX.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">The terrible scenes consequent upon the siege and storming of -San Sebastian, which occupy considerable portions of this and the -preceding Canto, and form in their bare recital an illustration -never surpassed of the horrors of War, are attested by so many -authorities, that to enter into minute corroborative details would -far exceed the limits which I have prescribed to myself. The following -brief but vigorous description is from Gleig’s <cite>Subaltern</cite>:</p> - -<p>“The reader will easily believe that a man who has spent some -of the best years of his life amid scenes of violence and bloodshed, -must have witnessed many spectacles highly revolting to the purest -feelings of our nature; but a more appalling picture of war passed -by—of war in its darkest colours,—those which distinguish it when -its din is over—than was presented by St. Sebastian, and the -country in its immediate vicinity, I certainly never beheld. Whilst -an army is stationary in any district, you are wholly unconscious of -the work of devastation which is proceeding—you see only the -hurry and pomp of hostile operations. But, when the tide has -rolled on, and you return by chance to the spot over which it has -last swept, the effect upon your mind is such, as cannot even be -imagined by him who has not experienced it. Little more than a -week had elapsed, since the division employed in the siege of St. -Sebastian had moved forward. Their trenches were not yet filled -up, nor their batteries demolished; yet the former had, in some -places, fallen in of their own accord, and the latter were beginning -to crumble to pieces. We passed them by, however, without -much notice. It was, indeed, impossible not to acknowledge, that -the perfect silence which prevailed was far more awful than the -bustle and stir that lately pervaded them; whilst the dilapidated -condition of the convent, and of the few cottages which stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -near it, stripped, as they were, of roofs, doors, and windows, and -perforated with cannon shot, inspired us with gloomy sensations.</p> - -<p>“As we pursued the main road, and approached St. Sebastian -by its ordinary entrance, we were at first surprised at the slight -degree of damage done to its fortifications by the fire of our batteries. -The walls and battlements beside the gateway appeared -wholly uninjured, the very embrasures being hardly defaced. But -the delusion grew gradually more faint as we drew nearer, and had -totally vanished before we reached the glacis. We found the -draw-bridge fallen down across the ditch, in such a fashion that -the endeavour to pass it was not without danger. The folding -gates were torn from their hinges, one lying flat upon the ground, -and the other leaning against the wall; whilst our own steps, as -we moved along the arched passage, sounded loud and melancholy.</p> - -<p>“Having crossed this, we found ourselves at the commencement -of what had once been the principal street in the place. No -doubt it was, in its day, both neat and regular; but of the houses -nothing now remained except the outward shells, which, however, -appeared to be of an uniform height and style of architecture. As -far as I could judge, they stood five stories from the ground, and -were faced with a sort of freestone, so thoroughly blackened and -defiled as to be hardly cognizable. The street itself was, moreover, -choked up with heaps of ruins, among which were strewed -about fragments of household furniture and clothing, mixed with -caps, military accoutrements, round shot, pieces of shells, and all -the other implements of strife. Neither were there wanting other -evidences of the drama which had been lately acted here, in the -shape of dead bodies, putrefying, and infecting the air with the -most horrible stench. Of living creatures, on the other hand, not -one was to be seen, not even a dog or a cat; indeed, we traversed -the whole city without meeting more than six human beings. -These, from their dress and abject appearance, struck me as being -some of the inhabitants who had survived the assault. They looked -wild and haggard, and moved about here and there, poking among -the ruins, as if they were either in search of the bodies of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> -slaughtered relatives, or hoped to find some little remnant of their -property.” For an account of the excesses committed by our -soldiery after the storming, “atrocities degrading to human -nature,” see Napier’s <cite>History</cite>, book xxii. chap. 2. Mr. Ford’s -denial, in his otherwise valuable Hand-book, deserves much censure. -I heard those horrors detailed on the spot.</p> - -<p>The operations on the Pyrenees on the day of the storming of -San Sebastian, with the rival manœuvrings of Soult and Wellington, -the combat of San Marcial, in which the Spaniards behaved so well, -and the several remarkable incidents of which I have sought to -avail myself, will be found fully recorded in Napier’s <cite>History</cite>, -book xxii. chap. 3. The scene of these, and the subsequent operations, -struck me at passing as grand and majestic in the highest -degree—the lofty and broken Pyrenean range, more fitted, as I -have elsewhere remarked, for the combats of Titans than of men. -The very names have a majestic sound, and their associations are -often supernatural. I have warrant for the lines:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verseq">“Zugaramurdi, Echallar a dirge</p> -<p class="verse">May roar for him who dares the eagle’s nest.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">These terrific mountain-solitudes were celebrated as the scene of -witchcraft in ancient times:—“<span lang="es" xml:lang="es">Las trasformaciones y maleficios, -las zambras, bailes, y comilonas con que se solazaban otras en los -aquelarres ó ayuntamientos nocturnos de Zugaramurdi, en el valle -de Baztan.</span>” (Navarrete, <cite lang="es" xml:lang="es">Vida de Cervantes</cite>.) A number of these -so-called witches were condemned to be whipped publicly in 1810 -by the Inquisition of Logroño.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">V.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Shuddering she nigh fell, till Nial caught<br /> -<span class="pad7">The bruiséd lambkin in his arms.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Illa nihil: neque enim vocem viresque loquendi,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Aut aliquid toto pectore mentis habet;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sed tremit, ut quondam stabulis deprensa relictis,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Parva sub infesto cùm jacet agna lupo.</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Fast.</cite> ii. 797.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VII.</span><span class="pad8"> </span> ——“Would I had died,<br /> -<span class="pad7">Would Heaven that I had died this fatal hour!” &c.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἰοὺ, ἰοὺ, ἀντιπαθῆ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Μεθεῖσα καρδίας σταλαγμὸν</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Χθονιαφόρον· ἐκ δὲ τοῦ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Λιχὴν ἄφυλλος, ἄτεκνος,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Βροτοφθόρους κηλίδας ἐν χώρᾳ βαλεῖ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Æschyl. <cite>Eumen.</cite> 810.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Wo, bitter wo is me! I will shed a drop from my heart -which shall corrupt all earthly things! And thence shall spring a -ring-worm sterile—childless, and fling man-rotting spots through -earth around!”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The elements with fierce, o’ershadowing frown.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">At pater omnipotens densa inter nubila telum</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Contorsit (non ille faces, nec fumea tædis</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Lumina) præcipitemque immani turbine adegit.</p> -<p class="verse16">Virg. <cite>Æn.</cite> vi.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And halts the strife of man—his pellets cease to fly.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀντίτυπα δ’ ἐπὶ γᾷ πέσε τανταλωθεὶς</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πυρφόρος, ὃς τότε μαινομένᾳ ξὺν ὁρμᾷ</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Βακχεύων ἐπέπνει</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ῥιπαῖς ἐχθίστων ἀνέμων.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Antig.</cite> 134.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“But stricken with the thunder that fiery one fell to earth -who raging before with insane fury had excited the violent -winds.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Dismayed and scattered fly the rival hosts.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Stolto, ch’al Ciel si agguaglia, e in oblio pone</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Come di Dio la destra irata tuone!</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso. <cite>Ger. Lib.</cite> iv. 2.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIX.</span><span class="pad8"> </span> ——“The common power<br /> -<span class="pad7">They owned with one accord—of hearts the richest dower.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse16" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Die heilige Liebe</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Strebt zu der höchsten frucht gleicher gesinungen auf * *</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Sich verbinde das paar, finde die höhere welt.</p> -<p class="verse12">Goethe, “<cite><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Metamorphose der Pflanzen</span></cite>.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Holy Love strives after the loftiest fruit of equal dispositions—that -those who love may be one, and find the Higher World!”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “So like a god he to her eyes doth seem,<br /> -<span class="pad8">Who came from demon-hate her soul to free.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse"><em>Clyt.</em> <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Οὐκ ἔχω βωμὸν καταφυγεῖν ἄλλον, ἢ τὸ σὸν γόνυ,</span></p> -<p class="verse4"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Οὐδὲ φίλος οὐδεὶς γελᾷ μοι.</span> * * *</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Iphig. in Aul.</cite> 911.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse"><em>Achil.</em> <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Θεὸς ἐγὼ πέφῃνά σοι</span></p> -<p class="verse4"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Μέγιστος, οὐκ ὢν.</span></p> -<p class="verse16"><em>Ib.</em> 973.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><em>Clyt.</em> “I have no other altar to fly to but thy knee; nor have -I a friend!”</p> - -<p><em>Achil.</em> “I have appeared to thee a mighty God; but am not -one.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “His frame sharp anguish shook,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse6" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">——κλαίοντα λιγέως.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Il.</cite> T.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Crying sharply”—such is the epithet which the poet applies to -the wailing of Achilles for Patroclus.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Through fiery scourge so San Sebastian past,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πόλις δ’ ὁμοῦ μὲν θυμιαμάτων γέμει,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὁμοῦ δὲ παιάνων τε καὶ στεναγμάτων.</p> -<p class="verse16">Soph. <cite>Œdip.</cite> Tyr. 4.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πόλις γὰρ, ὥσπερ καὐτὸς εἰσορᾷς, ἄγαν</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἤδη σαλεύει, κᾴνακουφίσαι κάρα</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Βυθῶν ἔτ’ οὐχ οἵα τε φοινίου σάλου.</p> -<p class="verse16"><em>Ib.</em> 22.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The whole city smokes, and is full of mournful pæans and -lamentations. * * As thou thyself dost witness, the city is -shaken with a mighty grief, nor can raise its head from the depths -of the gory sea.”</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Till all was smouldering heaps of desolation, wo.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Gern möcht’ er in tempeln beten,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nur trümmer findet er mehr!</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Altar’ und Götter liegen</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Zerstückelt am boden umher.</p> -<p class="verse12">Anastasius Grün (Von Auersperg).</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Willingly would he pray in temples, but he finds only ruins. -Altars and Gods lie shattered upon the earth around!”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Thy soul shall covet but of Locrian power<br /> -<span class="pad9">And intellect the glory! Beaconing men</span><br /> -<span class="pad9">To happiness be thine—still Freedom’s tower,</span><br /> -<span class="pad9">Still making every scowling Despot cower!”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Νέμει γὰρ Ἀτρέκεια πόλιν Λοκρῶν</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ζεφυρίων: μέλει τέ σφισι Καλλιόπα,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Καὶ χάλκεος Ἄρης.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Olymp.</cite> x.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“For Truth doth govern in the Zephyrian Locri’s city, and -Calliope is their care, and likewise brazen Mars.” A magnificent -eulogy is conveyed here in a few words. <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀτρέκεια</span> in the original -has the force both of Truth and Justice. No people of antiquity -were more renowned for the excellence of their institutions -than the Locri, who were the first to make use of written laws. -(Strabo, <em>lib.</em> 6.) Calliope is used by synecdoche for the Muses, to -whom the Locri were greatly devoted, having invented the Locric -harmony which was subsequently imitated by Sappho and Anacreon. -(Athenæus, <em>lib.</em> xiv. et xv.) Their warlike character upon fitting occasions -was also terribly displayed, 10,000 Locri having put to flight -130,000 invading Crotonians on the banks of the river Sagra—a fact -which, at first doubted as impossible, was afterwards strictly -verified, and passed into a proverb. (Strabo, <em>lib.</em> 6.) The epithet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -“brazen” applied here to Mars arises from the singular fact that -iron did not enter into the composition of the Grecian arms, which -were all of brass. (Pausanias, <cite>in Laconicis</cite>, and Homer <em>passim</em>.) -The magnificent region of Locris was situated at the foot of Parnassus; -and the splendid pre-eminence of its inhabitants in arts -and arms, with their prodigious victory over the Crotonians, -appears to justify their comparison with England.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Her soul was all absorbed in his—her life<br /> -<span class="pad8">Was cast, since meeting, in another mould.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Und wenn du ganz in dem gefühle selig bist,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nenn es dann wie du willst,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Nenn’s glück! herz! liebe! Gott!</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ich habe keinen namen</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Dafür! Gefühl ist alles.</p> -<p class="verse16">Goethe, <cite>Faust</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“And when thou art perfectly blissful in that feeling, call it -what thou wilt—call it joy—heart—love—God! I have no name -for it—feeling is all!”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And pluck the golden apple from the bough.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Vel cùm decorum mitibus pomis caput</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Autumnus arvis extulit,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ut gaudet ... decerpens pyra,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Certantem et uvam purpuræ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hor. <cite>Epod.</cite> ii.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80"><ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: '(blank)'">XLVII.</ins></span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Even the dread Cathedral leap<br /> -<span class="pad9">Chose the maid before dishonour.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse6" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">——Θυσίας</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Παρθενίου θ’ αἵματος ὀρ-</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">γᾷ περιόργως ἐπιθυ-</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">μεῖν Θέμις.</p> -<p class="verse12">Æschyl. <cite>Agamem.</cite> 216.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Of the sacrifice of virgin blood Diana is vehemently desirous.”</p> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto X.</h2> - - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Heavy the Morn, and sullenly and fierce</p> -<p class="verse2">A thunder-storm o’ergathers Haya’s crest.</p> -<p class="verse2">His rocky diadem red lightnings pierce,</p> -<p class="verse2">Leap o’er each crag, and smite the eagle’s nest;</p> -<p class="verse2">And volleying thunder rolls from East to West.</p> -<p class="verse2">Now rain in gushing torrents drowns the sky;</p> -<p class="verse2">Anon a fiery bolt on Mandal’s breast</p> -<p class="verse2">Leaves its black scar;—anon the storm from high</p> -<p class="verse">O’er Bidasóa falls while winds like spirits cry!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur seized the tempest as a boon,</p> -<p class="verse2">His columns lit by glory to advance</p> -<p class="verse2">Tow’rds Commissari, Bayonnette, and Rhune,</p> -<p class="verse2">And entering tame the pride of haughty France.</p> -<p class="verse2">Daring his mighty plan, whose toils enhance</p> -<p class="verse2">The Fuéntarábian waters poured between.</p> -<p class="verse2">A stronger than Bernardo wields the lance,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Paladins again to quail are seen.</p> -<p class="verse">Our conquering footsteps Spain re-echoes proud, I ween.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">For Roncesvalles is to Spain restored;</p> -<p class="verse2">Her Mina’s legions fill its storied dell.</p> -<p class="verse2">His Guerrilleros ’neath that Chief adored</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst the marauding Gaul have battled well.</p> -<p class="verse2">And at Baigorri hark where grandly swell</p> -<p class="verse2">The war-notes of Castile, while rush the wild</p> -<p class="verse2">Partidas ringing many a Norman’s knell;</p> -<p class="verse2">And sweep from France the forage she hath piled</p> -<p class="verse">On Spanish soil profaned, from stall and sheepfold mild.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Unconsciously the lowing herds resent</p> -<p class="verse2">Their change of masters, rudely by the horn</p> -<p class="verse2">Seized in the foray while trabúcos bent</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst Gaulish bosoms vomit deathful scorn,</p> -<p class="verse2">With loud explosive sound on Echo borne.</p> -<p class="verse2">And innocent sheep in thousands piteous bleat</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst hands that will restore them ere the Morn</p> -<p class="verse2">To the sweet fold, and oxen loud repeat</p> -<p class="verse">Moan upon moan, by bayonet pricked or firelock beat.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And on Ayrola’s rock is swift surprised</p> -<p class="verse2">By Campbell’s highlanders a post of Gaul;</p> -<p class="verse2">For not more firm the red-deer’s limb is poised</p> -<p class="verse2">For strength and fleetness mixed than doth befal</p> -<p class="verse2">Those hardy mountaineers whose shouts appal</p> -<p class="verse2">The braves of France—as e’en surprised them more,</p> -<p class="verse2">When first beheld by Vimieiro’s wall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Their antique garb, such as in days of yore</p> -<p class="verse">(In them revived to-day) the Roman legions wore.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Thus breaking fast the spirit of Gallia’s sons,</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur now begins his great emprize;</p> -<p class="verse2">Where Bidasóa’s stream impetuous runs,</p> -<p class="verse2">Resolved to pass though strenuous Soult defies.</p> -<p class="verse2">And while the thunder-storm doth lash the skies,</p> -<p class="verse2">His dread artillery’s ranged on Marcial’s flanks.</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er the tall crest doth many a cannon rise;</p> -<p class="verse2">His columns line the Bidasóa’s banks,</p> -<p class="verse">In silence poured along, and form their warlike ranks.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Full many a howitzer by fair Irún,</p> -<p class="verse2">While rages still the blast, its thunder hoards;</p> -<p class="verse2">And there lies closely moored each strong pontoon,</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath the town. Where Bidasóa’s fords,</p> -<p class="verse2">Through fishermen unawed by Gallic swords,</p> -<p class="verse2">To lynx-eyed vigilance their soundings yield,</p> -<p class="verse2">Castile shall pass and flout her tyrant lords.</p> -<p class="verse2">With deftest skill the troops are all concealed</p> -<p class="verse">By Jonco, Biriatú, and Fuéntarabia’s field.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And near to fair Behóbia’s broken arch</p> -<p class="verse2">The Lusitan battalion secret placed</p> -<p class="verse2">Is with the British guards prepared to march</p> -<p class="verse2">Beyond the Adour, till Gaul herself shall taste</p> -<p class="verse2">Invasion’s sweets, her dreams of glory chased!</p> -<p class="verse2">Still stand i’ the camp the tent-sheets as before,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor change appears nor new design embraced,</p> -<p class="verse2">When breaks that clouded morn from mist-drops o’er</p> -<p class="verse">Pyrene’s towering hills, and gloom o’erspreads the shore.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Beneath Andaye our bold brigades emerge,</p> -<p class="verse2">And in two columns rapid cross the sand.</p> -<p class="verse2">Silent as Death they gain the river’s verge,</p> -<p class="verse2">They pass the fords, they reach the further land.</p> -<p class="verse2">Then rose on high a rocket streaming grand,</p> -<p class="verse2">The signal true from Fuéntarabia’s tower;</p> -<p class="verse2">And howitzer and cannon briskly manned</p> -<p class="verse2">From tall San Marcial raised their voice of power,</p> -<p class="verse">And covered with their fire the fords in peril’s hour.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Seven columns o’er the sand like serpents wind,</p> -<p class="verse2">With crimson bright and azure scales bespread—</p> -<p class="verse2">The various garbs of Spain and England joined—</p> -<p class="verse2">And glancing bayonets bristle o’er each head;</p> -<p class="verse2">No Hydra in Lernæan marsh so dread!</p> -<p class="verse2">The Gaul o’ermatched can scarcely trust his eyes.</p> -<p class="verse2">Confusedly gathering each with shame is red;</p> -<p class="verse2">And form our lines beyond the stream ere flies</p> -<p class="verse">A hostile shot, so great that terrible surprise!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now mustering yet disordered forth they come,</p> -<p class="verse2">For spreads the alarm: <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Alerte! alerte!</i>’s the cry.</p> -<p class="verse2">The hurrying leaders urge them—rolls the drum,</p> -<p class="verse2">And to San Marcial’s thunderous guns reply</p> -<p class="verse2">Their cannon from the Grand Monarque on high.</p> -<p class="verse2">But all too late the movement—see, their camp</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath Andaye is carried manfully</p> -<p class="verse2">At glittering point of bayonet. Nought can damp</p> -<p class="verse">The ardour of our men, or check their onward tramp.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Vain, Boyer, thy decision—vain, Maucune,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy energy. Soult hears the cannonade</p> -<p class="verse2">At Espelette, and rushes forth full soon;</p> -<p class="verse2">But ere he comes his camps a prey are made</p> -<p class="verse2">By Britain’s sons beneath Andaya’s shade.</p> -<p class="verse2">Zugáramurdi feels the advancing power,</p> -<p class="verse2">And D’Erlon sees his post by Fate betrayed—</p> -<p class="verse2">The Lusitan battalion’s fairest flower</p> -<p class="verse">Alone by France cut down in that eventful hour.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Our German Chasseurs now by Halket led</p> -<p class="verse2">The Grand Monarque with vigorous footsteps climb.</p> -<p class="verse2">Before their onset fierce the Gaul hath fled;</p> -<p class="verse2">But, guardian of the pass, that peak sublime</p> -<p class="verse2">Must not be yielded in an instant’s time.</p> -<p class="verse2">Reille pours his masses on the mountain’s brow,</p> -<p class="verse2">With field artillery, to efface the crime</p> -<p class="verse2">Of light concession. Halt the Germans now,</p> -<p class="verse">For tired and wounded sore their spirits an instant bow.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Cameron with his gallant warriors rushed</p> -<p class="verse2">Straight through their broken ranks, and gained the peak,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where stands the Wreathéd Cross. Ne’er torrent gushed</p> -<p class="verse2">From Mandal more impetuous fierce to seek</p> -<p class="verse2">The plain. Beneath the shock Gaul’s columns break.</p> -<p class="verse2">First fly their cannon down the mountain-side,</p> -<p class="verse2">And next—the mouths secured that dare not speak—</p> -<p class="verse2">To a lower ridge the infantry doth glide</p> -<p class="verse">Where forms their line, not yet abated all their pride.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Narrow the pathway leading to the ridge,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which now the Frenchmen clustering strongly hold;</p> -<p class="verse2">But o’er it urge, like passing tiniest bridge,</p> -<p class="verse2">In single column led by Cameron bold,</p> -<p class="verse2">Our heroes as at Azincour of old.</p> -<p class="verse2">The hill doth inward curve—concentrate fire</p> -<p class="verse2">The foemen pour; but by the shout appalled</p> -<p class="verse2">Of sturdiest freemen, swift the French retire,</p> -<p class="verse">The British bayonet ne’er withstanding in its ire.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Freyre’s Spaniards now the peak have won</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Mandal lording o’er his craggy slopes,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where the Green Mountain glistens in the sun,</p> -<p class="verse2">And tow’rds Urogne an easy pathway opes.</p> -<p class="verse2">Thus turned his flanks, and foiled in front his hopes,</p> -<p class="verse2">Reille by the causeway of Bayonne recedes,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till Soult’s great voice the flight majestic stops.</p> -<p class="verse2">In vain the foeman’s breast contending bleeds;—</p> -<p class="verse">The Bidasóa’s won—not least of England’s deeds!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But yet the pass of Vera we must gain,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where now Girón from Ivantelly’s come</p> -<p class="verse2">And Longa with the skirmishers of Spain,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Alten too with men Old England from—</p> -<p class="verse2">Not these the least, I ween, in Victory’s sum!</p> -<p class="verse2">Dire were the works upon the heights above</p> -<p class="verse2">Which Gaul could raise, but not the brave benumb.</p> -<p class="verse2">And here was Nial, oft with tenderest love</p> -<p class="verse">Musing on Isabel, poor lorn and fluttering dove!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The youth looked up: by outward posts defended</p> -<p class="verse2">And star-redoubts he saw the Bayonnette;</p> -<p class="verse2">The Commissari with that mountain blended</p> -<p class="verse2">Was girt with abatís incessant met.</p> -<p class="verse2">He thought those bulwarks would be England’s yet!</p> -<p class="verse2">A gulf profound with skirmishers was filled,</p> -<p class="verse2">And thickest woods where marksmen keen were set.</p> -<p class="verse2">Rugged the path where Spain her hope must build,</p> -<p class="verse">With turns abrupt where men by striplings might be killed.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">An isolated mountain midway rose—</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis called “The Boar”—by France’s warriors crowned;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Longa’s guns and Colborne’s rifles chose</p> -<p class="verse2">The toilsome task to gain this lofty ground—</p> -<p class="verse2">So high, though dwarfed amongst the peaks around,</p> -<p class="verse2">That the spent musket-bullets singing fell</p> -<p class="verse2">All harmless at its foot with feeble sound,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which marksmen from the crest directed well</p> -<p class="verse">’Gainst our advancing men, but none its tale could tell.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The word is given, and swift our heroes climb</p> -<p class="verse2">The mountain, Nial first their steps to guide.</p> -<p class="verse2">A pine-wood’s gained far up in quickest time—</p> -<p class="verse2">They breathe a moment—with disdainful pride</p> -<p class="verse2">Doth Nial dash each shadowing branch aside,</p> -<p class="verse2">And forward rush, exclaiming, “On men, on!”</p> -<p class="verse2">His gallant followers scorn secure to bide</p> -<p class="verse2">Behind—the summit’s gained—the foemen wan</p> -<p class="verse">Scarce meet their dashing charge; an instant—they are gone!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Emboldened by this triumph rush the Allies;</p> -<p class="verse2">Our columns plunge into the rough defile.</p> -<p class="verse2">The dark ravine to the left with lusty cries</p> -<p class="verse2">Is ta’en by Longa’s Leonese, the while</p> -<p class="verse2">Colborne’s brigade o’er narrow pathways toil</p> -<p class="verse2">To the Bayonnette with skirmishers before,</p> -<p class="verse2">Breastwork, redoubt, and abatís to spoil.</p> -<p class="verse2">With men and fire the slopes are covered o’er,</p> -<p class="verse">And curls white smoke above the forest-battle’s roar.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Through each intrenchment in the greater pass</p> -<p class="verse2">Soon Kempt’s brigade doth force resistless sway,</p> -<p class="verse2">His skirmishers wide scattered o’er the grass</p> -<p class="verse2">To small detachments broke, as melt away</p> -<p class="verse2">The lessening slopes into the ridges gray.</p> -<p class="verse2">The platform’s won, and Colborne’s bold brigade</p> -<p class="verse2">Of rifles far above, like huntsmen gay,</p> -<p class="verse2">Is seen to emerge from forth the forest shade</p> -<p class="verse">To the broad space before the star-redoubt displayed.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Nial was there, and swift he led his men</p> -<p class="verse2">With rapid fire the strong redoubt to storm.</p> -<p class="verse2">Their dark attire the French mistaking then</p> -<p class="verse2">For garb of Southron soldiers, forth they swarm,</p> -<p class="verse2">And face our caçadores in conflict warm.</p> -<p class="verse2">Sudden their charge, and struggling hand to hand,</p> -<p class="verse2">The firelock and its fixéd bayonet form</p> -<p class="verse2">Against the unarméd rifle surer brand,</p> -<p class="verse">And shrill the Frenchmen cried as backward drew the band.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Nial with his sword the bayonet matched,</p> -<p class="verse2">And as he fought upon the rocky verge</p> -<p class="verse2">That bounds the platform, he a firelock snatched</p> -<p class="verse2">From forth a Frenchman’s hands whom he did urge</p> -<p class="verse2">At swordpoint till he slew him. While the surge</p> -<p class="verse2">Of foemen rushed, he kept them all at bay,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till from the forest swift our troops emerge.</p> -<p class="verse2">Their crimson garb with panic struck the fray,</p> -<p class="verse">And Nial cheered his men to give their rifles play.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Then loud arose the sturdy British shout.</p> -<p class="verse2">Rifles and foot in full career advance.</p> -<p class="verse2">The foe to their intrenchment wheel about;</p> -<p class="verse2">And England’s sons, improving well the chance,</p> -<p class="verse2">The fort have entered with the sons of France.</p> -<p class="verse2">Dense clouds of smoke o’er all the works ascended.</p> -<p class="verse2">Sharp rang the musket, active played its lance.</p> -<p class="verse2">But soon the mass of French and English blended</p> -<p class="verse">Emerged, while British cheers proclaimed the conflict ended.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Up, up the crags the rapid Frenchman flies,</p> -<p class="verse2">The powerful Briton following in his trail,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till new intrenchment, new redoubts, arise.</p> -<p class="verse2">Once more they stand—once more our troops assail</p> -<p class="verse2">Their abatís, till France again doth quail.</p> -<p class="verse2">And ever Nial flourished in the van</p> -<p class="verse2">His faithful sword that turned the foeman pale,</p> -<p class="verse2">And cheered his rifles on, and foremost ran,</p> -<p class="verse">Like gallant chief whose port gives courage to each man.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Colborne nobly guided the brigade,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which now the mount hath carried to its crest;</p> -<p class="verse2">But there a terrible redoubt’s displayed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where loop-holed works with musketry arrest</p> -<p class="verse2">The brave who fall with many a piercéd breast.</p> -<p class="verse2">No howitzer is there—no mountain-gun,</p> -<p class="verse2">But missiles scarce less dire our troops molest;</p> -<p class="verse2">For thundering down the steep comes many a stone,</p> -<p class="verse">Huge, rugged, dealing death, or shattering flesh and bone.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But Kempt’s brigade its toilsome way hath gained</p> -<p class="verse2">With Andaluzan comrades up the steep,</p> -<p class="verse2">And turned the fort’s left flank—’tis scarce attained,</p> -<p class="verse2">When rush the foemen in disordered heap</p> -<p class="verse2">Down the far hill-side to the valley deep.</p> -<p class="verse2">The fort is our’s! The tricolor is torn</p> -<p class="verse2">By Nial from the flag-staff at a leap;</p> -<p class="verse2">And, Spain, thy lions and thy towers upborne</p> -<p class="verse">In many a victor field its summit proud adorn.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The Bayonnette is won! The mountain’s brow</p> -<p class="verse2">Doth bear a signal-tower whose beechen arms</p> -<p class="verse2">Soult’s mandates wonted to transmit till now,</p> -<p class="verse2">And o’er his lines convey with magic charms</p> -<p class="verse2">Of fleetness War’s instructions and alarms.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Now down,” quoth Nial, “with the wooden head,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose baleful movement oft the Spaniard harms.</p> -<p class="verse2">His clumsy flourishes through æther sped</p> -<p class="verse">No more shall wound the Allies, no more by Soult be read.”</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">From Leon’s corps two sturdy pioneers</p> -<p class="verse2">With gleaming axes clove the column’s foot.</p> -<p class="verse2">The laughing Andaluz the tell-tale jeers:</p> -<p class="verse2">“’Tis thus we lay the hatchet to the root.”</p> -<p class="verse2">“That tree,” said Nial, “shall no more give fruit!”</p> -<p class="verse2">The Andaluzes yet more fiercely mock,</p> -<p class="verse2">Keen as the shafts their bullring Majos shoot:—</p> -<p class="verse2">“Now did king Joseph’s self receive the shock,</p> -<p class="verse">Right lustily the axe should cleave the senseless block!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Soon pierced the column round, till scarce a thread</p> -<p class="verse2">Supports its weight:—“Look out—look out below!”</p> -<p class="verse2">Another stroke—and stoops its monstrous head.</p> -<p class="verse2">It sways—it topples o’er—first bending slow,</p> -<p class="verse2">Then falls with mighty crash beneath the blow.</p> -<p class="verse2">As when ’mid storms, some labouring ship to ease,</p> -<p class="verse2">The mast is hewn away, and falls where flow</p> -<p class="verse2">The seething billows—tackles, shrouds, and trees,</p> -<p class="verse">Canvass and cordage sink, a victim to the seas.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Meanwhile great Arthur hath so well combined</p> -<p class="verse2">His several forces tow’rds the frontier nigh,</p> -<p class="verse2">That Commissari and Puérto, as designed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Our flag now wear upon their summits high.</p> -<p class="verse2">Five perilous hours our heroes by the cry</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Freedom spurred, o’er crags stupendous toiling,</p> -<p class="verse2">Have ceaseless fought where dead and wounded lie,</p> -<p class="verse2">At every guarded post the Frenchman foiling,</p> -<p class="verse">And round Pyrene’s girth like powerful serpent coiling.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But now the greater Rhune must too be won,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Colborne’s corps and Longa’s force the hill.</p> -<p class="verse2">Through wooded gorge, up craggy slopes they run,</p> -<p class="verse2">Then breathless pause—again with lusty will</p> -<p class="verse2">Burst fresh and sparkling like a mountain rill.</p> -<p class="verse2">And many and fleet the skirmishers of France,</p> -<p class="verse2">With fusillade severe but conquering still,</p> -<p class="verse2">They backward drive along the broad expanse,</p> -<p class="verse">And Nial’s gleaming sword was ever in advance.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Strong was the line of abatís that rose</p> -<p class="verse2">Full in the path of Longa’s wearied men.</p> -<p class="verse2">They halt irresolute before their foes,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor list to Longa’s voice nor mark his ken.</p> -<p class="verse2">But Nial whom all loved was ’mongst them then,</p> -<p class="verse2">And “<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">adelante</i>” crying waved his sword—</p> -<p class="verse2">Leapt o’er the abatís i’ the lion’s den.</p> -<p class="verse2">The generous Spaniards bounded at the word,</p> -<p class="verse">Saved “the fair boy” and smote the French with one accord.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">To Rhune’s enormous sides the foemen fled,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where ’neath Clausel the Gaul doth muster strong.</p> -<p class="verse2">The Hermitage upon the mountain’s head</p> -<p class="verse2">Is thick with arméd men,—though Fate should wrong,</p> -<p class="verse2">Full stern resolved the contest to prolong.</p> -<p class="verse2">By others not less fierce are held his flanks;</p> -<p class="verse2">To Sarre and to Ascain extends the throng.</p> -<p class="verse2">A lower ridge the greater Rhune embanks,</p> -<p class="verse">And this too bristles o’er with Gallia’s hostile ranks.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now—now the Andaluzes scale the Rhune,</p> -<p class="verse2">By Colborne’s caçadores supported still.</p> -<p class="verse2">A musket-shot below the crest full soon</p> -<p class="verse2">Their charge doth reach, to where a craggy hill</p> -<p class="verse2">Detached doth rise. This natural bulwark fill</p> -<p class="verse2">The skirmishers of France, whose fusillade</p> -<p class="verse2">Not long withstands the assailants’ vengeful will.</p> -<p class="verse2">The bulwark’s cleared, the pathway free is made,</p> -<p class="verse">And up the Spaniards climb—nor ask for British aid.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But from the Hermitage terrific rocks</p> -<p class="verse2">Come bounding fierce, of such enormous size,</p> -<p class="verse2">That seemeth each of those succeeding shocks</p> -<p class="verse2">Enough to sink a column ne’er to rise!</p> -<p class="verse2">Not Valour’s self can with unmovéd eyes</p> -<p class="verse2">That horrid task of Sisyphus survey.</p> -<p class="verse2">Appalled and unadvancing the allies</p> -<p class="verse2">With distant fire along the mountain way</p> -<p class="verse">The foe in vain assail, withheld by dire dismay.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But saw great Arthur now with Lyncean ken,</p> -<p class="verse2">Though Rhune was there impregnable, a side</p> -<p class="verse2">Which might a pathway open to his men,</p> -<p class="verse2">And give their arms of Gaul to tame the pride.</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er Sarre the ascent arose more fair and wide,</p> -<p class="verse2">And strongly there concentred the brigades</p> -<p class="verse2">Assail the rocks that long approach defied.</p> -<p class="verse2">The rocks are won—the Gaulish valour fades,—</p> -<p class="verse">And won a height intrenched their camp at Sarre which shades.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">From Echallar on Barbe our men descend,</p> -<p class="verse2">And win the fort with British shouts of power.</p> -<p class="verse2">The camp of Sarre’s outflanked, Clausel doth end</p> -<p class="verse2">Resistance there, retiring in that hour.</p> -<p class="verse2">He dreads his rear cut off, resigns his tower</p> -<p class="verse2">Of strength—the greater Rhune, and takes his stand</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the lesser height. But soon the flower</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Britain’s rifles crown the mountain grand,</p> -<p class="verse">And from the Hermitage the lower heights command.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And while the garrison was swift retiring</p> -<p class="verse2">From that strong ground, their path young Nial crost</p> -<p class="verse2">With six poor rifles not a shot e’en firing,</p> -<p class="verse2">When forth the gallant stept, and from his post,</p> -<p class="verse2">“Lay down your arms!” he shouted to the host—</p> -<p class="verse2">Three hundred men! His mandate they obeyed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Scared by that voice of power, and deeming lost</p> -<p class="verse2">All means of ’scape. Resistance none they made,</p> -<p class="verse">And Nial at their head regained his bold brigade.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And when the eye of England’s glorious Chief,</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur, fell with favour on the youth,</p> -<p class="verse2">And praise he spoke in stirring words though brief,</p> -<p class="verse2">Such as with thought impregnate all and truth</p> -<p class="verse2">It was his wont to utter, Envy’s tooth</p> -<p class="verse2">Of calumny to silence proudly shaming,</p> -<p class="verse2">Beat Nial’s heart, and soldiers all uncouth</p> -<p class="verse2">Felt tears well nigh to flow, the stripling naming</p> -<p class="verse">So loved by all, their hearts with gentlest Valour taming.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Nial thought upon his Isabel,</p> -<p class="verse2">For all his proudest feelings centred there,</p> -<p class="verse2">Prophetic that the maid he loved so well</p> -<p class="verse2">The praise would echo sweetly, smiling fair;</p> -<p class="verse2">And while his brow a loftier plume doth wear</p> -<p class="verse2">Through glory for that day’s achievements done,</p> -<p class="verse2">With her he thought the joyous fruits to share,</p> -<p class="verse2">With her to feel the glow of Victory’s sun,</p> -<p class="verse">For still for her and Spain was Freedom’s battle won.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now our’s the Bidasóa, our’s the Rhune,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Bayonnette, and Commissari too.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh France! thy fields shall now be entered soon,</p> -<p class="verse2">For at our feet the fair Nivelle doth flow.</p> -<p class="verse2">Saint Jean de Luz, thy vesper-lights below</p> -<p class="verse2">O’erhang the Gascon gulf. Invasion’s tread</p> -<p class="verse2">Hath passed thy border, yet no sound of wo</p> -<p class="verse2">Shall rend thy sky, thy homes shall mourn no dead,</p> -<p class="verse">For Justice now humane with Britain’s arms is wed.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The wail of San Sebastian reached thy heart,</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur, and provoked the stern command,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which none may dare dispute. The conqueror’s part</p> -<p class="verse2">Shall Mercy temper in the Gaulish land.</p> -<p class="verse2">Now on Pyrene’s farthest summit stand</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy legions bolder than e’er Cæsar’s arm</p> -<p class="verse2">To victory marshalled. Every crag was manned</p> -<p class="verse2">By arméd foes, yet quelled is War’s alarm</p> -<p class="verse">Through Spain, such Valour’s power, such godlike Freedom’s charm!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But mourn the brave who nobly fighting fell</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon Pyrene’s mountains, mourn the brave</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose breasts were pierced, where strove those bosoms well,</p> -<p class="verse2">And, ah, too oft have found not e’en a grave!</p> -<p class="verse2">For o’er those pathless solitudes the wave</p> -<p class="verse2">Of War hath rolled, and ’mid those regions vast</p> -<p class="verse2">Full many a wounded man, with none to save,</p> -<p class="verse2">Hath sighed his aidless death-groan to the blast,</p> -<p class="verse">And vultures strip the bones which Heaven will clothe at last!</p> -</div></div> - - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4" /> -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO X.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">The Passage of the Bidasoa, with the military movements which -immediately ensued, completing that operation and establishing the -left wing of our army on the soil of France, occupies the entire of -this Canto. The events with which it deals will be found very -fully and satisfactorily recorded in Napier’s <cite>History</cite>, book xxii. -chap. 4. The thunder-storm which rolled over the district on -the eventful morning chosen by Wellington for this remarkable -strategical evolution is by no means exaggerated in the text. It -is in the Pyrenees that thunder is witnessed to perfection. The -exploits which in this Canto I attribute to Nial have all their -foundation in the genuine history of the campaign.</p> - -<p>General Alten had the command of the Light Division, and the -Rifle corps, to which I suppose Nial to have belonged, was under -the immediate guidance of the gallant Colborne.</p> - -<p>Captain Batty’s description of the Passage of the Bidasoa, with -which operation, the first in which he shared, he commences his -<cite>Campaign of the Western Pyrenees</cite>, is very animated, and illustrated -by spirited etchings of the event of the Passage and of -Pyrenean scenery. His view of Fuenterrabia and of the mountain -of Jaizquibel is particularly deserving of praise. It is impossible -to describe the effect upon my feelings of going over this heroic -mountain ground from Andaye to the Louis Quatorze, from Bildox -and Mandale to the Bayonnette and Commissari, and from thence -to the greater Rhune.</p> - -<p>The allusion in the commencement of this Canto to the Vale of -Baigorri refers to the rescue of an enormous amount of forage by -Mina’s Guerrilla from the French, including 2,000 sheep.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> - -<p>The pastoral habits, to which large districts in Spain are still -addicted, cause the people to occupy five times the extent of land, -which with agricultural pursuits would be sufficient for their -maintenance. The pastoral institution of the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">mesta</i> encourages -the feeding of sheep, and the enormous migratory flocks of Estremadura -and elsewhere move every year some hundreds of miles, -devastating the tracts over which they pass. “By the increase of -pasture,” says Sir Thomas More, “your sheep, that are naturally -mild, may be said now to devour men, and unpeople, not only -villages, but towns.”—<cite>Utopia</cite>, book i. The invaders found their -account in this primitive system, and their entire subsistence was -derived from ready plunder. The French in their Peninsular -prowlings resembled in one other respect, as well as in their Republican -and Heathen names, the Lacedæmonians, who held a -grand hunt annually, in which the agricultural peasantry were -pursued and destroyed like wild beasts—a fact which, though -Müller questions the testimony that supports it, is as well authenticated -as any other incident in the Dorian history. The -argument, taken from the improbable inhumanity of the fact, is -refuted by the modern practices of the French in Spain and -Portugal, and in their Algerian Razzias to this hour. They -differ from the Lacedæmonians, it would seem, in this, that the -Spartans perpetrated the enormity only once a year, while the -French perform it weekly. I have seen with my own eyes the -ravages which they have left in the Peninsula, the glorious monuments -of antiquity which they have disfigured and defaced, the -desecration which they have brought upon shrine and tomb. -And, much as I may be disposed to forget and forgive, it is -not easy to suppress one’s choler amidst the mutilated glories of -Burgos, Alcobaça, and Batalha.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">II.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The Fuéntarábian waters poured between.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">When Charlemagne with all his peerage fell</p> -<p class="verse">By Fontarabia.</p> -<p class="verse16">Milt. <cite>Par. Lost</cite>, i. 586.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> - -<p>In this name, I have departed slightly from the Spanish orthography, -a corruption of the Latin <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Fons rapidus</i>, and made -“<em>errabia</em>” “<em>arabia;</em>” in deference to the example of Milton, and -for the sake of the excellent musical effect in connection with one -of the finest names in romance.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">V.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “When first beheld by Vimieiro’s wall.”<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent">Vimieiro is merely a village about 35 miles N.N.W. of Lisbon, -where the accommodations are so miserable that it was with difficulty -I could procure a <i lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">calda de gallinha</i> (boiled fowl served up -with its broth) the only thing in the shape of comfortable nourishment -which is to be had in the country parts of Portugal. The -walls referred to are therefore, as may be supposed, not turret-crowned -like Berecynthian Cybele. For the allusion to the effect -produced on the French by the sight of our Highlanders first met -by them in this battle, see Southey, <cite>Hist. Penins. War</cite>, and -Campbell, <cite>Ode for the Highland Society</cite>.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Where Bidasoa’s stream impetuous runs.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The Passage of the Bidasoa took place on the 7th October, a -month after the fall of San Sebastian. The morning was heavy -and louring, and the day’s work was ushered in by a thunder-storm -(already referred to) which caused the early British operations -to be happily unperceived.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “To lynx-eyed vigilance their soundings yield.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“By the help of Spanish fishermen he had secretly discovered -three fords, practicable at low water, between the bridge of -Behobia and the sea.” Napier, <cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> book -xxii. chap. 4.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Their cannon from the Grand Monarque on high.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The mountain of Louis XIV., overhanging the Bidasoa at -Biriatú, where the French had their principal battery.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The Lusitan battalion’s fairest flower,”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The Portuguese brigade lost one hundred and fifty men.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The peak where stands the wreathéd cross.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The Croix des Bouquets—a height adjoining the mountain of -Louis XIV.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The British bayonet ne’er withstanding in its ire.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>This is no boast. It is a fact attested by the whole of our -Peninsular and Belgian campaigns that the French never withstood -one bayonet charge, and scarcely ever, indeed, would cross that -weapon with us.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Where the green mountain glistens in the sun.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Bildox, called the Sierra Verde, a little northward of the Mandale -mountain.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“The Bidasoa’s won—not least of England’s deeds.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse8">“This stupendous operation.”</p> -<p class="verse10">Napier, <cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite>, book xxii. chap. 4.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXII.</span><span class="pad10"> </span> ——“Colborne’s bold brigade<br /> -<span class="pad8">Of Rifles far above, like huntsmen gay.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Des jägers muth ist immer grün,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Und aus dem grünen muth soll blühn</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ein blümlein blutig roth,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Soll heissen feindes tod. * *</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Mein schatz gab mir ’nen silbern ring,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Dass ich ihr einen gold’nen bring’;</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Der ring soll sein entwandt</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Von eines Franzmanns hand!</p> -<p class="verse16">Rückert.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“The jäger’s courage (like his raiment) is evergreen, and out -of the green courage shall spring a blood-red flowret, and be called -Death to the Foe! * * My beloved gave to me a silver ring,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> -that I may bring her a ring of gold. The ring shall be taken -from a Frenchman’s hand!”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIV.</span><span class="pad10"> </span> ——“A firelock snatched<br /> -<span class="pad6">From forth a Frenchman’s hand whom he did urge</span><br /> -<span class="pad6">At sword point till he slew him,” &c.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse4" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Tancredi con un colpo il ferro crudo</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Del nemico ribatte, e lui fere anco:</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Nè poi, ciò fatto, in ritirarsi tarda,</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Ma si raccoglie, e si ristringe in guarda.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, Gerus. <em>Lib.</em> vi. 43.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Like gallant chief whose port gives courage to each man.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse10" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">——como sabio capitão,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Tudo corria, e via, e a todos dava</p> -<p class="verse" lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">Com presença e palavras coração.</p> -<p class="verse16">Camóens, <cite>Lus.</cite> iv. 36.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIX.</span><span class="pad10"> </span> ——“The mountain’s brow<br /> -<span class="pad8">Doth bear a signal tower whose beechen arms.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>“Longa was also to send some men over the river to Andarlasa, -to seize a telegraph which the French used to communicate -between the left and centre of their line.” Napier, xxii. 4.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And ‘<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">adelante!</i>’ crying, waved his sword.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Adelante!</i>” which signifies “forward,” is the word of encouragement -used at charging in the Spanish service.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Saved ‘the fair boy,’ and smote the French with one accord.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>This act of bravery was performed almost literally as described, -by an officer of the 43rd regiment named Havelock. The -Spaniards shouted for <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">el chico blanco</i>, “the fair boy,” and -followed him into the abatis.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “But saw great Arthur now with Lyncean ken.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἴδεν Λυγκεὺς. κείνου γὰρ ἐπιχθονίων</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">πάντων γένετ’ ὀξύτατον</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ὄμμα.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Nem.</cite> x.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Lynceus saw. For his sight was of all men’s the sharpest.” -See also Theocritus. (<cite>Idyl.</cite> 27.) “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Lynceo perspicacior</span>” became -an adage.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse8" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——Prolesque Aphareïa Lynceus</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Et velox Idas.</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Met.</cite> viii. 304.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XL.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “‘Lay down your arms!’ he shouted to the host.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>This adventure actually occurred to the gallant Colborne. “Accompanied -by only one of his staff and half-a-dozen riflemen, he -crossed their march unexpectedly, and with great presence of -mind and intrepidity ordered them (three hundred men) to lay -down their arms, an order which they thinking themselves entirely -cut off obeyed.” (Napier, <cite>Hist.</cite> book xxii. chap. 4.)</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And vultures strip the bones which Heaven will clothe at<br /> -<span class="pad8">last!”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse6" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">——οἱ δ’ ἐπὶ γαίῃ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Κείατο, γύπεσσιν πολὺ φίλτεροι ἢ ἀλόχοισιν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hom. <cite>Il.</cite> xi. 161.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Upon the ground they lay, far dearer to the vultures than to -their wives!”—one of the most terrible lines that ever was written.</p> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto XI.</h2> - - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">There are two Fountains in the Vale of Life,</p> -<p class="verse2">That flow for lovers—one with nectar runs,</p> -<p class="verse2">The other poison! One with joy is rife,</p> -<p class="verse2">The other with a deadly gurgle stuns.</p> -<p class="verse2">Their stream commingles for all Eva’s sons</p> -<p class="verse2">And daughters who with mutual passion thrill.</p> -<p class="verse2">None, none may drink the nectar pure, which shuns</p> -<p class="verse2">All human lips till with the poison-rill</p> -<p class="verse">’Tis mixed, and happiest they whose cups the least may fill!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And Young Love sits upon a flowery knoll</p> -<p class="verse2">Where those two streamlets mix, his shafts he dips</p> -<p class="verse2">In their joint flow, and ceaseless twangs at all</p> -<p class="verse2">Who pass his ivory bow with wanton quips.</p> -<p class="verse2">But in the honeyest kiss of human lips</p> -<p class="verse2">There lurks a poison—ay, when hearts most mingle,</p> -<p class="verse2">Doth Fate perchance prepare his scorpion whips;</p> -<p class="verse2">And nerves that with the keenest rapture tingle</p> -<p class="verse">Shall haply curse the hour when ceased they to be single!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">’Twas a delicious, soft autumnal eve;</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian through his lovely garden strayed,</p> -<p class="verse2">By Isabel supported. Mountains heave</p> -<p class="verse2">Their giant forms to Heaven, Pyrene’s shade</p> -<p class="verse2">Thrown to the Frenchward side. His bulwarks made</p> -<p class="verse2">A fence the westering sunbeam to reflect,</p> -<p class="verse2">And balmy gales from many an opening glade</p> -<p class="verse2">Came soft the old man’s forehead to protect</p> -<p class="verse">From fiercer rays, while moved his form no more erect.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And, as on Isabel’s sustaining arm</p> -<p class="verse2">He passed ’neath trellised vine that dropt its load</p> -<p class="verse2">Of blooming clusters near their heads, the charm</p> -<p class="verse2">Of youthful beauty in that fair abode</p> -<p class="verse2">More interest took from sorrows that corrode</p> -<p class="verse2">The old man’s brow beside her. Ne’er was seen</p> -<p class="verse2">A lovelier picture than the pains bestowed</p> -<p class="verse2">On that ripe senior by that maiden green—</p> -<p class="verse">No sire more grave, no maid more dutiful I ween.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Between the apple-trees with loaded boughs</p> -<p class="verse2">Peeped ever and anon Ernani’s towers,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Haya tops them with his craggy brows,</p> -<p class="verse2">And distant Jaizquibel where tempest lours</p> -<p class="verse2">So oft serenely smiles. Through scented bowers</p> -<p class="verse2">Of orange, jasmine, myrtle, balm, they pass,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Isabel now tends, now plucks the flowers,</p> -<p class="verse2">A nosegay for her sire, while dew like glass</p> -<p class="verse">In beads begins to strew the eve-reviving grass.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Not fairer opened in Alcina’s isle</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon Ruggiero’s wild, enchanted view</p> -<p class="verse2">The magic garden, mightiest wings the while</p> -<p class="verse2">Furled the aërial steed on which he flew.</p> -<p class="verse2">Not fairer that to which Armida drew</p> -<p class="verse2">The Christian Knight whom fatal toils ensnared,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where side by side the fruit and blossoms grew,</p> -<p class="verse2">The bough green apples with the golden shared,</p> -<p class="verse">And the full ripened with the nascent fig compared.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Salustian to the sheltering house returned</p> -<p class="verse2">For twilight’s bland repose, and Isabel</p> -<p class="verse2">Amongst the flowers she loved till night sojourned,</p> -<p class="verse2">Then to a bower retired in distant dell</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the garden’s verge she cherished well,</p> -<p class="verse2">For there full oft with Nial joyous seated</p> -<p class="verse2">She deep had drunk of Love’s delicious spell,</p> -<p class="verse2">And many a Vascon legend oft repeated,</p> -<p class="verse">And now with thought of him the tedious hours she cheated.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Sudden a tall gaunt man before her stood,</p> -<p class="verse2">With hat broad-flapping slouched upon his face,</p> -<p class="verse2">Xaquéta and buckled shoon: in masking mood</p> -<p class="verse2">He seemed, half-monk and half of worldlier race.</p> -<p class="verse2">He raised his head, his features showed apace.</p> -<p class="verse2">Screamed Isabel who saw ’twas Fray Beltrán,</p> -<p class="verse2">Don Carlos’ brother who a rival place</p> -<p class="verse2">Had sought in Isidora’s heart, and ran,</p> -<p class="verse">When Carlos he had smote, to cloisters fenced from man.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now glared his eye with fearful purpose—swift</p> -<p class="verse2">He caught her wrist—she screamed again: “Thou’lt come</p> -<p class="verse2">“With me!” he said—she struggled—he did lift</p> -<p class="verse2">Her in his arms, where swooned the maid struck dumb</p> -<p class="verse2">With terror—to a steed he bore her from</p> -<p class="verse2">The bower, upon its shoulder laid her form,</p> -<p class="verse2">Then sprang to the saddle ere her senses numb</p> -<p class="verse2">Revived, and galloped swift his courser warm,</p> -<p class="verse">Till on an ocean-cliff he stood ’neath gathering storm.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Here by steep paths he led the maid perforce</p> -<p class="verse2">Adown the cliff amid the seamew’s wail.</p> -<p class="verse2">Terrific were the perils of their course,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Isabel with sobs outsighed the gale.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh, dire to see that beauty lorn and pale!</p> -<p class="verse2">At length so difficult the rude descent,</p> -<p class="verse2">That in his arms he lifted her;—no jail</p> -<p class="verse2">She dreaded like those arms, and shuddering bent</p> -<p class="verse">Away and shrieked, but none to aid the maiden went.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Within a lofty cave and wide they now</p> -<p class="verse2">Together stood, the ocean-wave before,</p> -<p class="verse2">Stalactites pendent from its rocky brow,</p> -<p class="verse2">And moon-lit shells and shingle strewed the floor.</p> -<p class="verse2">Little of these thought Isabel, though more</p> -<p class="verse2">Delighted none with Nature’s works than she,</p> -<p class="verse2">In calmer hours. Beltrán she doth implore</p> -<p class="verse2">On bended knees with tears full sad to see,</p> -<p class="verse">And prayers and passionate sobs, to set her stainless free.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">He shook his head: “Oh dread, mysterious man,</p> -<p class="verse2">“What would’st thou with me here?”—“Not harm a hair</p> -<p class="verse2">“Of thine, most beauteous maiden.” Curdling ran</p> -<p class="verse2">Her blood, for she did think he mocked her prayer.</p> -<p class="verse2">“If just thy purpose, why felonious tear</p> -<p class="verse2">“Me from my father’s side—my father ailing?”</p> -<p class="verse2">She wept again: “My innocence, oh, spare——</p> -<p class="verse2">“Release me”—but her prayers were unavailing,</p> -<p class="verse2">And loud resounded all the cavern with her wailing.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Now hear me,” said Beltrán, while flashed his eye</p> -<p class="verse2">With supernatural light, and instant flushed</p> -<p class="verse2">His pale and haggard cheek. “My destiny</p> -<p class="verse2">“Thou know’st is terrible as e’er hath hushed</p> -<p class="verse2">The heart of man, or youthful spirit crushed.</p> -<p class="verse2">I loved, and in a brother found, oh God!</p> -<p class="verse2">A rival—all unconsciously I rushed</p> -<p class="verse2">And stabbed him—then a cloister’s pavement trod,</p> -<p class="verse">And sought relief in prayer, in monkish fast, and rod.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“But vain the toil. Thy image, Isidor,</p> -<p class="verse2">For ever haunted thus my troubled brain.</p> -<p class="verse2">The prisoned lion doth the fiercer roar,</p> -<p class="verse2">And chafed my tortured spirit ’neath its chain.</p> -<p class="verse2">The thought that Isidora”—’Twas in vain</p> -<p class="verse2">He checked the tears that here began to flow,</p> -<p class="verse2">Tears that like molten fire adown did rain.—</p> -<p class="verse2">“The thought that <em>she</em> could not be mine—the wo</p> -<p class="verse">Unutterable racked my brain to madness—so!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“The sack of San Sebastian came to ope</p> -<p class="verse2">My convent-door which War’s dread fire consumed.</p> -<p class="verse2">Kindled that fire in me a ray of hope.</p> -<p class="verse2">I rushed to your house—but found its Lar entombed</p> -<p class="verse2">In smouldering ashes. Like a spirit doomed,</p> -<p class="verse2">I wandered then Guipúscoa’s confines through,</p> -<p class="verse2">When chance another ray of Hope illumed.</p> -<p class="verse2">I found the garden, saw your sire and you,</p> -<p class="verse">But nought of Isidor could learn, nor e’er could view.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“All thought of her I checked—but while my soul</p> -<p class="verse2">Shook with its mortal agony I sought</p> -<p class="verse2">Relief in the design to this rude goal</p> -<p class="verse2">To bear thee, maiden, as I now have brought,</p> -<p class="verse2">And gaze upon thy face where Nature wrought</p> -<p class="verse2">Such likeness unto <em>her</em>—but fear not harm</p> -<p class="verse2">From me! Thou’rt as a sister dear, whom nought</p> -<p class="verse2">Shall dare to injure. Let me drink the charm</p> -<p class="verse">Of thy sweet face i’ the Moon—nay, curb thy vain alarm!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“’Tis her’s I see in thine—her angel face</p> -<p class="verse2">In thee depictured. In the moonlight stand,</p> -<p class="verse2">I pray thee, Isabel.”—On that lone place</p> -<p class="verse2">The sound of oars and voices from the strand</p> -<p class="verse2">Fell—’tis the Basque barqueras come to land;</p> -<p class="verse2">And straight they fill the cave, where from the storm</p> -<p class="verse2">They seek retreat. Amazed the Nereid band</p> -<p class="verse2">Behold the frayle’s and the maiden’s form;</p> -<p class="verse">But soon the mystery solved uproused their spirits warm.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Go, Frayle, to thy book and to thy beads;</p> -<p class="verse2">With dame or damsel nought concerns thee more.</p> -<p class="verse2">Off to thy cloister, breviary, and weeds,</p> -<p class="verse2">Or straight we’ll drive thee forth with lusty oar,</p> -<p class="verse2">Laid on thy shoulders till no bull shall roar</p> -<p class="verse2">On Guetaría’s plain more loud than thou.</p> -<p class="verse2">The peerless lily, Doña Isidor,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whom thou so madly lov’dst, is buried now</p> -<p class="verse">In Santiago’s green, where lilies o’er her bow.”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Dire was the change in all his face, when heard</p> -<p class="verse2">This fatal news he ne’er before had learned.</p> -<p class="verse2">He gasped with horror—nor could e’en a word</p> -<p class="verse2">Put forth—his jawbone fell—as pale he turned</p> -<p class="verse2">As monumental marble, for inurned</p> -<p class="verse2">His hopes lay in her tomb. Upon his face</p> -<p class="verse2">Grief stamped a fearful image. He sojourned</p> -<p class="verse2">But for an instant more—“’Tis lilies grace</p> -<p class="verse">“Her grave?” he said—they nod—he roelike fled the place!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Soon found the blithe Barqueras dry old wood,</p> -<p class="verse2">And kindled fire i’ the centre of the cave.</p> -<p class="verse2">Bright flashed the blaze, and sparkling keener stood</p> -<p class="verse2">The dark-eyed daughters of the ocean-wave,</p> -<p class="verse2">But brighter flashed, that thus they came to save</p> -<p class="verse2">In peril’s hour, the eyes of Isabel.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her glances eloquent the tribute gave</p> -<p class="verse2">Of gratitude, nor looked she e’er so well</p> -<p class="verse">As when the o’erflowing heart threw Beauty’s softer spell.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Her mobile face with play of sweetest smiles</p> -<p class="verse2">Gives forth her innocent thoughts and nought conceals:</p> -<p class="verse2">An aspect changeful still that ne’er beguiles,</p> -<p class="verse2">For every change a beauty new reveals,</p> -<p class="verse2">Its form vibrating as her bosom feels.</p> -<p class="verse2">As some fair lake reflects each passing cloud,</p> -<p class="verse2">Each sun-bright ray that o’er its bosom steals,</p> -<p class="verse2">So were her looks with mirror truth endowed,</p> -<p class="verse">Nor could she, if she would, emotion’s play enshroud.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh, Isidor’s and Blanca’s blessing fall</p> -<p class="verse2">“From Heaven upon your heads!” she weeping cried.</p> -<p class="verse2">At Blanca’s name the maidens kist her all,</p> -<p class="verse2">In memory of their Armadilla’s pride.</p> -<p class="verse2">From Contrabandist stores, the cavern wide</p> -<p class="verse2">Embosomed, then refreshment meet they drew;</p> -<p class="verse2">And while the flickering blaze, as nightwinds sighed,</p> -<p class="verse2">In light or shade their beauties lambent threw,</p> -<p class="verse">They waited till more calm the Ocean grow to view.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">’Twas after Sunset but the second hour,</p> -<p class="verse2">When Nial from the Bidasoa came,</p> -<p class="verse2">Glowing with valour’s pride and passion’s power,</p> -<p class="verse2">And eager to recount the army’s fame</p> -<p class="verse2">To Isabel—for sealed a blushing shame</p> -<p class="verse2">His lips to his own daringness of deed,</p> -<p class="verse2">And to conceal it e’en was oft his aim.</p> -<p class="verse2">Swift lit the hero from his foaming steed,</p> -<p class="verse">And met Salustian wild distracted, borne at speed:</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Hast seen her? Hast thou seen my daughter? Say,</p> -<p class="verse2">“Know’st thou aught of my girl?”—“Great Heaven, what means</p> -<p class="verse2">“Thy question?”—“They have ta’en my girl away—</p> -<p class="verse2">“One, one was not enough. Oh, Hell-born scenes</p> -<p class="verse2">“Of War!” An instant’s breathing-time he leans</p> -<p class="verse2">On Nial. “Isabel—.” “Who dared to harm?”</p> -<p class="verse2">Quoth Nial, flashing terrible wrath, then gleans</p> -<p class="verse2">From the old man, how, sleeping, the alarm</p> -<p class="verse">Reached him that she was torn away by a stranger’s arm,</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And then to horse, and galloped out of sight,</p> -<p class="verse2">But none knew whither—none who dared aspire.</p> -<p class="verse2">Swift to his steed leapt Nial airy light,</p> -<p class="verse2">His nostril panting with excitement dire,</p> -<p class="verse2">His lips compressed with fearful purpose—ire</p> -<p class="verse2">And vengeance from his eagle glances fly.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Stay—stay; I join thee,” cried the plundered sire.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Stir not for love of Heaven!” was the reply.</p> -<p class="verse">Salustian screamed: “I go! Who so bereaved as I?”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Vain Nial’s words—Salustian would to horse:</p> -<p class="verse2">“Then let your ailing master be your care,”</p> -<p class="verse2">Quoth Nial to Salustian’s men. “Remorse</p> -<p class="verse2">“Be his who shall neglect my fervent prayer,</p> -<p class="verse2">“That, if he still will follow, slow ye fare!”</p> -<p class="verse2">He spurred his generous charger—at a bound</p> -<p class="verse2">Crost half the court-yard, learnt the route to bear</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the robber’s track, and soon the sound</p> -<p class="verse">Of his steed’s hoofs was lost upon the mountain-ground.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Vain his long gallop, vain his bird-like speed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Vain every turn and venture far and near.</p> -<p class="verse2">Sad, sad grew Nial’s heart, and ’gan to bleed,</p> -<p class="verse2">While from his eye fell many a bitter tear.</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er leagues of mountain heath did nought appear,</p> -<p class="verse2">Save his own shadow and his steed’s i’ the Moon</p> -<p class="verse2">Reflected long and dreary as the year</p> -<p class="verse2">It seemed since he had parted, vowing soon</p> -<p class="verse">To meet, from Isabel thus lost in Beauty’s noon!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">He sickened at the thought of what might be,</p> -<p class="verse2">And let his weary charger pace at will,</p> -<p class="verse2">While o’er the heath Salustian rapidly</p> -<p class="verse2">At peril of his life through dale and hill</p> -<p class="verse2">Careered, grief’s energy sustaining still.</p> -<p class="verse2">“Oh Nial, know’st thou aught?”—A tear he shed,</p> -<p class="verse2">More speaking Silence than might volumes fill.</p> -<p class="verse2">The old man tore his hair. His steed they led</p> -<p class="verse">By the rein, and held his hands in pity for his head.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Thus by the far-resounding shore they past,</p> -<p class="verse2">High o’er the bosom of the heaving main,</p> -<p class="verse2">When reached their ears upon the lulling blast</p> -<p class="verse2">A chorus sweet that seemed to ease their pain.</p> -<p class="verse2">Their eyes cast downward o’er the Ocean-plain</p> -<p class="verse2">Beheld the Basque barqueras distant ply</p> -<p class="verse2">Their shallops in the moonlight, like a chain</p> -<p class="verse2">Of jet o’er sparkling emerald. Both drew nigh</p> -<p class="verse">To the cliff’s edge, amazed a sight so strange to espy.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Sudden the chorus ceased—the shallops stopt—</p> -<p class="verse2">The oars arose like spear-shafts in the air;</p> -<p class="verse2">“<em>Parad!</em>” a voice exclaimed, like music dropt</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the gale that hastened swift to bear</p> -<p class="verse2">The summons to the victims of Despair.</p> -<p class="verse2">Down fell the oars again, and swift each hand</p> -<p class="verse2">The green wave lashed, till urged those Nereids fair</p> -<p class="verse2">Their prows with rival speed upon the strand,</p> -<p class="verse">And soon in beauteous file upon the beach they land.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Great Heaven! what is’t? ’Tis she, ’tis Isabel,</p> -<p class="verse2">That from the midst takes rapidly the lead,</p> -<p class="verse2">With eager cry of transport. Each full well</p> -<p class="verse2">Of each the features recognized. His steed</p> -<p class="verse2">Soon Nial left, and sprang with headlong speed</p> -<p class="verse2">Adown the cliff, of Isabel’s alarms</p> -<p class="verse2">And imminent perils taking little heed.</p> -<p class="verse2">His magnet strong was her recovered charms,</p> -<p class="verse">Nor drew he foot nor breath till clasped within his arms!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh, rapturous embrace! oh, tenfold joy,</p> -<p class="verse2">All sweeter for the racking grief sustained.</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian shook with transport to destroy,</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon the cliff where he perforce remained,</p> -<p class="verse2">By iron bonds of age and sickness chained.</p> -<p class="verse2">But swift sweet Isabel to cheer him flew,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like beauteous fawn, and soon the summit gained,</p> -<p class="verse2">And wept with bliss, and on her bosom true</p> -<p class="verse">The old man’s weary head sustained, and kist anew.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And soon her story wondrous strange was told,</p> -<p class="verse2">Beltrán’s devoted frenzy, harmless all,</p> -<p class="verse2">And how the Basque barqueras, even though bold</p> -<p class="verse2">And criminal his passion, seemed to fall</p> -<p class="verse2">From Heaven to her relief. From Vascon tall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian’s servitor, doth Nial here</p> -<p class="verse2">Take well-trained steed, then lift her wrapt in shawl;</p> -<p class="verse2">And, homeward wending, Heaven received a tear</p> -<p class="verse">Of gratitude for her who now was doubly dear.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And many a noble gift Salustian sent</p> -<p class="verse2">With old Hidalgo lavishment to mark</p> -<p class="verse2">His grateful spirit to the maids who went</p> -<p class="verse2">To aid his daughter when the sky was dark,</p> -<p class="verse2">And safely bore to his arms in gallant bark.</p> -<p class="verse2">But what of San Sebastian ’mid this play</p> -<p class="verse2">Of grief and joy alternate? Is no ark</p> -<p class="verse2">Of saving launched upon the torrent spray,</p> -<p class="verse">That swept her homes? Alas, still desolate are they!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">In Santiago’s burial-green, while fall</p> -<p class="verse2">The struggling moonbeams from a stormy sky,</p> -<p class="verse2">With brilliance now unclouded, now with pall</p> -<p class="verse2">Of darkness shadowed intermittingly,</p> -<p class="verse2">A haggard, gaunt, and ghostly form doth try</p> -<p class="verse2">Each mound of earth for some peculiar sign,</p> -<p class="verse2">With preternatural strides and gleaming eye</p> -<p class="verse2">Doth pass from grave to grave, from line to line,</p> -<p class="verse">With eye more fearful bright then halt and cry: “’Tis thine!”</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">’Twas Fray Beltrán, who ’mongst the graves had found,</p> -<p class="verse2">With instinct’s fatal truth and frenzy’s lore,</p> -<p class="verse2">The lilies planted o’er the new-raised mound,</p> -<p class="verse2">That hid the Vascon lily, Isidor!</p> -<p class="verse2">And as some mariner a rock-bound shore</p> -<p class="verse2">Doth find in shipwreck, where his limbs are cast</p> -<p class="verse2">And dashed to pieces with the saving oar,</p> -<p class="verse2">So baleful was this sight of earth that passed</p> -<p class="verse">Before Beltrán’s red eyes, and like to prove their last!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">With nerves mad-strung he knelt upon the sod,</p> -<p class="verse2">And deeply groaned, and raised a fervent prayer.</p> -<p class="verse2">That prayer, ah me, it was not breathed to God;</p> -<p class="verse2">It seemed the very echo of Despair!</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor yet the name of Heaven invoked he there,</p> -<p class="verse2">But loud at first he called the Fiend and Hell,</p> -<p class="verse2">Till breathed the name of Isidora fair,</p> -<p class="verse2">All ’midst his anguish dire it was a spell,</p> -<p class="verse">Melting his heart to tears that now in torrents fell!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh, lily torn and crushed,” he said, “thou art gone!</p> -<p class="verse2">Mine—mine—though Fate had given thee to another.</p> -<p class="verse2">Let cold, weak hearts condemn the love whose dawn</p> -<p class="verse2">Was ere the altar bound thee to a brother.</p> -<p class="verse2">I sought that world-condemnéd love to smother—</p> -<p class="verse2">As well might stifle a volcano, bind</p> -<p class="verse2">The ocean-wave, or bid the yearning mother</p> -<p class="verse2">Curse her first-born. The cloister more enshrined</p> -<p class="verse">Thy image—Solitude the gold but more refined!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Sack-cloth, the fast, the scourge could not o’ercome</p> -<p class="verse2">The force of passion tyrant-strong like this;</p> -<p class="verse2">Heart-rooted, it can ne’er be torn but from</p> -<p class="verse2">My heart with life. Grief, anguish, Death e’en, miss</p> -<p class="verse2">The aim to mar it. Memory’s self is bliss—</p> -<p class="verse2">An anguished bliss—the only I can know.</p> -<p class="verse2">My love hath fed on agony. A kiss,</p> -<p class="verse2">Stol’n from thee once unwilling, soothed my wo,</p> -<p class="verse">When after days of fast had laid me fainting low!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Cloisters are not for me. Ascetic bands,</p> -<p class="verse2">Although of iron, chain not souls like mine.</p> -<p class="verse2">Withes bind not giants, twirled by pigmy hands.</p> -<p class="verse2">Earth’s hidden fires the globe cannot confine.</p> -<p class="verse2">They burst in lava torrents! Shade divine</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Isidor, the fires within my breast</p> -<p class="verse2">Consume me—for a sight of thee I pine.</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy lovely lips must yet once more be prest,</p> -<p class="verse">Even though in death, or ere I find eternal rest!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Then with a frantic energy he tore</p> -<p class="verse2">The earth light-piled upon the new-made grave;</p> -<p class="verse2">Digging with kite-like nails till they were sore,</p> -<p class="verse2">But slow his progress, dire the toil he gave.</p> -<p class="verse2">Ill brooked his soul of time to be the slave.</p> -<p class="verse2">Again he tore the earth, till stiff and numb</p> -<p class="verse2">His hands refuse the task. Not demons rave</p> -<p class="verse2">More wild than he; he shrieked and howled o’ercome;</p> -<p class="verse">And tears like molten lead descend till he is dumb!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Sudden a thought flashed o’er him—he is gone,</p> -<p class="verse2">Swift as the antelope, and soon returns</p> -<p class="verse2">With spade and mattock—unto Heaven ’tis known</p> -<p class="verse2">Where found, but frantic energy that burns</p> -<p class="verse2">Like his the will that shapes a way inurns;</p> -<p class="verse2">And rapid his career the churchyard ’mid.</p> -<p class="verse2">Now, now the clay to either side he spurns</p> -<p class="verse2">With swift-plied implements in earth deep hid,</p> -<p class="verse">And now his mattock strikes upon a coffin-lid!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">He yelled for joy! In vain his fingers flew</p> -<p class="verse2">To loose the firm new lid—it mocks his art.</p> -<p class="verse2">His toil with ten-fold zeal he doth renew,</p> -<p class="verse2">And clear the earth away from every part.</p> -<p class="verse2">Oh now, how glare his eyes, how bounds his heart!</p> -<p class="verse2">Gently his mattock’s pressure is applied</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twixt lid and coffin till the strong nails start;</p> -<p class="verse2">Gently, for all is sacred by her side,</p> -<p class="verse">Loveliest of Vascon maids, who Virtue’s martyr died!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">The lid is moved—the beauteous face unveiled,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose beauty not e’en violent death could mar.</p> -<p class="verse2">That instant forth the Moon sublimely sailed</p> -<p class="verse2">From darkest cloud that long its stormy bar</p> -<p class="verse2">To her light opposed, and shone o’er every star,</p> -<p class="verse2">Peerless in Heaven as Isidor on earth.</p> -<p class="verse2">Heart-piercing was the cry that pealed afar,</p> -<p class="verse2">As threw Beltrán his form on hers, in mirth</p> -<p class="verse">Hysteric mixed with sobs, and clasped her frozen girth,</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And kist her icy lips—ah me, ’twas cold</p> -<p class="verse2">Reply to love that like a furnace glowed;</p> -<p class="verse2">Love that all lawless and forbidden told</p> -<p class="verse2">Its tale more fierce that o’er such bounds it strode—</p> -<p class="verse2">The solemn bounds ’twixt Life and Death’s abode,</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twixt Transience and Eternity! Her form</p> -<p class="verse2">Was fresh and pure, Decay could not corrode</p> -<p class="verse2">So soon its loveliness. Beltrán i’ the storm</p> -<p class="verse">Still kist as if his breath her lifeless clay could warm.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">But vain his kisses, vain his burning tears,</p> -<p class="verse2">Though poured in showers like those that left the sky.</p> -<p class="verse2">Man cannot weep for aye—his brain it sears</p> -<p class="verse2">To feel such anguish as Beltrán made cry</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath the withering stroke of Destiny!</p> -<p class="verse2">Up from the grave he sprang, and fiercely bore</p> -<p class="verse2">The coffin-lid—its parts asunder fly—</p> -<p class="verse2">With spade and mattock into lengths he tore</p> -<p class="verse">The stubborn wood, and thus the grave he laid them o’er.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And from the churchyard near he gathered stones,</p> -<p class="verse2">And deftly filled the spaces ’twixt the wood;</p> -<p class="verse2">Then took what came to hand,—or clay or bones—</p> -<p class="verse2">And wedged each interstice with worm’s old food,</p> -<p class="verse2">And when the work was done pronounced it good!</p> -<p class="verse2">Then o’er the deathful pit thus covered in</p> -<p class="verse2">He heaped the earth beside the margins strewed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Leaving but at the head a fissure thin</p> -<p class="verse">For meagre body worn by sorrow and by sin!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">He entered worming through the aperture</p> -<p class="verse2">With cautious care lest all his toil should fail,</p> -<p class="verse2">And smiled he last to see the work so sure,</p> -<p class="verse2">Then drew his head within the covert frail.</p> -<p class="verse2">He laid him down beside that beauty pale,</p> -<p class="verse2">And with his hands the boards he turned aside,</p> -<p class="verse2">Destroying the slight arch that propt his gaol.</p> -<p class="verse2">The earth-fall smothered the last words he cried:</p> -<p class="verse">“Though severed in our lives, yet Death could not divide!”</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4" /> -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO XI.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">The character of Fray Beltrán, as portrayed in this Canto, is -meant to represent a portion of the extraordinary and irregular -energies which the events of the French Revolution and Invasion -produced in Spanish cloisters. It is with a view to impart variety -to my subject, that I have dwelt upon love and madness as the -shapes which Beltrán’s wild energy assumed, though political -propagandism, patriotic denunciation of the French, and even -taking up arms, were acts familiar to the Exclaustrados or expelled -inmates of religious houses, violated by the ruthless invader—often -for the purpose of converting cloisters into stables!</p> - -<p>In these transactions, the French took one way of realising -Sir Thomas More’s “Happy Republic.” “In no victory do -they glory so much, as in that which is gained without bloodshed.” -They rejoiced to triumph by fraud, like the ancient -Spartans, or liker perhaps the Egyptian Harami—incorporated -for plunder. The monks and friars of the Peninsula were not all, -however, helpless. Many fled to the mountains and marshalled -or joined Guerrilla parties, and there was scarcely a Guerrilla -throughout Spain during the War of Independence that had not -some monks and friars incorporated with it. This system continues -down to the present hour, and the accession of these clerical -auxiliaries has ever thrown a sort of halo over the pursuit in a -superstitious country. “<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">La Patria y la Religion!</i>” was a potent -cry, and the life of perpetual adventure was in the highest degree -exciting and romantic.</p> - -<p>But the poetical view of the Guerrillas must be counterbalanced -by the more strictly historical view of their character. It is questionable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> - -whether these irregular levies did not produce nearly as -much evil as good. Candour must confess that there was as -much robbery as patriotism in the system. Amongst the leaders -of the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">partidas</i> personal interests were too often predominant. -Discipline under such a system is of course impossible, and each -man’s object is naturally to secure the largest share of the plunder -for himself. The leaders of the different <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">partidas</i> were terribly -jealous of each other; and one of the first exploits of Espoz y Mina, -the most distinguished of all their chiefs, was to slay the leader of -a Guerrilla band in his neighbourhood, because he plundered his -own countrymen under the mask of patriotism: he was also, -doubtless, in Mina’s way. All through Mina’s career, “he would -never suffer any <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">partida</i> but his own to be in his district.” (<cite>Life -of Mina.</cite>) The irregularity inherent in the Guerrilla system of -warfare encouraged violence, license, and disregard for the rights -of property. The <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">partidas</i> were an admirable instrument for -raising a whole people against the invader; but the application of -the force was subsequently misdirected, and the surprise of -Figueras was the only service of first-rate importance that they -ever performed in Spain. Their minor exploits were, however, -innumerable, and the disparaging observations of Napier, Foy, -and St. Cyr, all regular military men, are to be received with -caution.</p> - -<p>The course of life of the Spanish Guerrillero, commencing often -as a soldier, then becoming a deserter, next flying to the mountains -and turning robber, and lastly turning soldier on his own -account, closely resembles the description of the Roman Spartacus -by Florus:—“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ille de stipendiario Thrace miles, de milite desertor, -inde latro, deinde in honore virium gladiator.... Exercitum -percecidit ... castra delevit ... in primo agmine fortissimè -dimicans.</span>” (<em>Lib. iii. cap.</em> 30.)</p> - -<p>It is not intended to palliate the numerous acts of jealousy, -hatred, treachery, and plunder, which our army sustained from -Spanish and Portuguese allies. But many important services -were rendered by the Guerrillas, and still more by the regular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> -troops of Portugal. And, in addition to the Guerrilla chiefs, of -whom I have already noticed the principal, the regular troops of -Spain achieved some successes under the command of Castaños, -Palafox, Reding, Blake, O’Donnel, Sarsfield, Downie (these four -Generals were Irish or of Irish extraction), Albuquerque, Freyre, -Ballasteros, Longa, Giron, Mendizabal, Romana and Morillo.</p> - -<p>Amongst the Portuguese officers, who distinguished themselves -in these campaigns, must be noticed with praise, besides Saldanha -and Terceira, the Condes of Amarante, Villareal, Das Antas and -Bomfim, the Freires, Lecor, Leite, Vallongo, and Talaia.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">II.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And Young love sits upon a flowery knoll.”<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent">Vide Claudian. <cite lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nupt. Honor. et Mariæ.</cite> Claudian makes one of -the fountains of honey.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2 noindent"> -“And nerves that with the keenest rapture tingle<br /> -Shall haply curse the hour when ceased they to be single!” -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse4" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Molestæ hæ sunt nuptiæ!</p> -<p class="verse16">Terent. <cite>Andr.</cite> act ii. sc. 2.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">VI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Not fairer opened in Alcina’s isle.”<br /> -</p> - -<p class="right padr2">Vide Ariosto, <cite lang="it" xml:lang="it">Orlando Furioso</cite>, canto vi.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Where side by side the fruit and blossoms grow.”<br /> -</p> - -<p class="right padr2">Vide Tasso, <cite lang="it" xml:lang="it">Gerusalemme</cite>, canto xvi.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “But brighter flashed, that thus they came to save<br /> -<span class="pad7">In peril’s hour, the eyes of Isabel.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse4" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Wer rettete vom tode mich,</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Von sklaverey?</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Hast du nicht alles selbst vollendet,</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Heilig glühend herz?</p> -<p class="verse16">Goethe (Prometheus).</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Who rescued me from death, from slavery? Hast thou not -all achieved, holily glowing heart?”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “In memory of their Armadilla’s pride.”<br /> -</p> - -<p><i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Armada</i> “a fleet,” <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Armadilla</i> “a little fleet.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Hast seen her? Hast thou seen my daughter? Say,<br /> -<span class="pad8">Know’st thou aught of my girl?”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse4" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Er rief in das geheul des windes,</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Lenorens namen hundertmal;</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Doch statt des heissgeliebten kindes,</p> -<p class="verse4" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Antwortet ihm der wiederhall.</p> -<p class="verse16">Langbein.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“He cried out, ’mid the howling of the winds, Leonora’s name a -hundred times; but echo answered him instead of his best-beloved -child.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Parad!</i> a voice exclaimed like music dropt.”<br /> -</p> - -<p><i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Parad</i>, “stop!”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Oh, rapturous embrace, oh tenfold joy,<br /> -<span class="pad9">All sweeter for the racking grief sustained!”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Idem est beate vivere, et secundum naturam,</span>” says Seneca. -This was the great rule of the Stoic philosophy, and may likewise -be applied to Christian lovers. Tranquil wedded bliss -appears to be its consummation. This living according to -Nature will, of course, be varied in its interpretation, according to -each man’s individual temperament. “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Tot sensus, quot capita,</span>” -says Tertullian. And the decision of Protagoras will find too -many adherents, who conceived himself to be the only standard -of what was right and proper, and believed all things good which -seemed so to him. Christianity happily gets rid of the evanescent -and impalpable vagueness of the ancient philosophy, which slipt -through the fingers like the statues of Dædalus, and comes to our -aid with positive precept. In illustration of this vagueness the -advocates of the atomic theory as an adjunct of their system made -the chief part of man’s happiness consist in pleasure, which an -Epicurean would interpret literally to signify the enjoyments of -sense, and a Platonist would expound, properly understood, to -mean the exercise of virtue. Yet both in their philosophizing -would be probably theoretical, and their practice, as in most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> -instances, would be the result of temperament and impulse; -for “every man calleth that which pleaseth, and is delightful -to himself, <em>good</em>; and <em>evil</em> that which displeaseth him.” (Hobbes, -<cite>Treatise on Human Nature</cite>, c. vii.)</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “With old Hidalgo lavishment.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="es" xml:lang="es">Que un hidalgo no debe á otro que a Dios y al Rei nada.</p> -<p class="verse16">(Mendoza, <cite lang="es" xml:lang="es">Lazarillo de Tormes</cite>.)</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“An Hidalgo owes nothing, except to God and the King.” -Such were the ideas of justice, which prevailed amongst the noble -class in Old Spain. The funds which were denied to creditors -were squandered in largesses.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“To aid his daughter when the sky was dark.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Die hand die uns durch dieses dunkel führt.—Wieland.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“The hand that leads us through this darkness.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XL.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Earth’s hidden fires the globe cannot confine.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Nè sì scossa giammai trema la terra,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Quando i vapori in sen gravida serra.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, <cite>Ger. Lib.</cite> iv. 3.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>Those who may think the beauty of Salustian’s garden, as -described in this Canto, exaggerated, I would invite to visit -the country between San Sebastian and Ernani, as I did last -year, and revel in its groves and orchards.</p> - -</div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4 pfs150 lsp2">IBERIA WON.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> -<h2 class="antiqua">Canto XII.</h2> - - -<p class="canto">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Bright be thy fame, illustrious Wellington!</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose arm Britannia’s glory raised so far</p> -<p class="verse2">That all the matchless victories she had won</p> -<p class="verse2">Before thee pale beside thy Victory’s star!</p> -<p class="verse2">For when the Conqueror whirled o’er earth his car,</p> -<p class="verse2">More strong than Philip’s son to Indus rolled,—</p> -<p class="verse2">Invoking Freedom’s power his path to mar,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou gav’st him battle with thy Britons bold,</p> -<p class="verse">And vanquished him who Earth had cast in tyrant-mould.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Bright be thy fame, illustrious Wellington!</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose ordinance pure, proscribing Rapine’s lust,</p> -<p class="verse2">Outshone in peace and war Napoléon;—</p> -<p class="verse2">Like Aristides fitly called “The Just;”</p> -<p class="verse2">Or liker his associate in the trust</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Athens, great Themistocles, excelling</p> -<p class="verse2">In martial prowess all that turns to dust,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor less in Wisdom. Gaul is grateful telling</p> -<p class="verse">Thy glories, Scipio-pure, amidst her Lares dwelling.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Shall I not sing thy triumph? I was born</p> -<p class="verse2">Amid the thunder of thy victories!</p> -<p class="verse2">The cannon fired for joy upon the morn</p> -<p class="verse2">That told the nation Salamanca’s skies</p> -<p class="verse2">Saw thy most skilful battle’s trophy rise—</p> -<p class="verse2">Reached me still wombed. The fame of Waterloo,</p> -<p class="verse2">That made each cheek to glow and lit all eyes,</p> -<p class="verse2">Even to my infant ear half-conscious flew.</p> -<p class="verse">All Hail!—for to this Earth I soon must bid adieu.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">My cup of life is broken at the full,</p> -<p class="verse2">My lamp doth fade ere half its light is shed,</p> -<p class="verse2">And whispereth angel sternly beautiful,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose shadowy wings have touched my aching head:</p> -<p class="verse2">Before the greybeard shall the youth be dead!</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet still, though perisheth my mortal part,</p> -<p class="verse2">With thine and England’s glory shall be fed</p> -<p class="verse2">The echoes roused by my enduring art,</p> -<p class="verse">And patriot strains of pride shall free my bursting heart!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Soldier of Liberty! Be this thy praise;</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy sword was drawn to shield the rights of Man</p> -<p class="verse2">Against his mightiest Tyrant. Length of days,</p> -<p class="verse2">And honours of a Demigod, the plan</p> -<p class="verse2">Of Heaven assigned thy front revered to fan:</p> -<p class="verse2">Sublime reward! Yet conquests greater thine:—</p> -<p class="verse2">The path of Cæsar blood and tears o’erran;</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou mad’st War human—and in Peace canst shine;</p> -<p class="verse">Thy hand struck off the chain that galled Milesius’ line!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">VI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And well were seconded thy glorious views</p> -<p class="verse2">By noblest Captains. Many a gallant name</p> -<p class="verse2">Amongst thy host, if destined thee to lose,</p> -<p class="verse2">Would surely have achieved eternal Fame!</p> -<p class="verse2">’Twas patriot zeal of Valour fanned the flame,</p> -<p class="verse2">That glowed within their breasts like purest gem,</p> -<p class="verse2">And nought but godlike deeds could quench or tame.</p> -<p class="verse2">Of hero-pith thy legions, root and stem;</p> -<p class="verse">Thy host was worthy thee—and thou wert worthy them!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">I late have stood upon thy battle-fields;</p> -<p class="verse2">On rugged-browed Roriça, where ’gainst France</p> -<p class="verse2">Was earliest proved the strength that Britain wields,</p> -<p class="verse2">And up the dread ravines thou didst advance</p> -<p class="verse2">’Mongst olive-groves and ilex, where enhance</p> -<p class="verse2">The perils of the way such crags as none</p> -<p class="verse2">Save mountain-goats may leap—yet drove thy lance</p> -<p class="verse2">The foeman thence. Arbutus smiled upon,</p> -<p class="verse">And myrtles kist thy brow, revived by Victory’s sun!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">VIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And on Vimieiro, where the deep defile</p> -<p class="verse2">With rocks and torrent-beds and hardy pines</p> -<p class="verse2">The foe entangles, while they climb with toil</p> -<p class="verse2">The crescent-ridge that sweeps to the Atlantic. Shines</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy bristling bayonet-row, and fall their lines,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like corn the yeoman reaps. Thy triumph graced</p> -<p class="verse2">Their cannon captured ’mid the purpling vines;</p> -<p class="verse2">And backward fell their force to Torres chased,</p> -<p class="verse">Where I have marked the skill thy glorious Lines that traced.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">IX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And upon Talavera’s glorious hill,</p> -<p class="verse2">Scorched by the glare of Leo’s burning sun,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where drank the rival warriors from the rill,</p> -<p class="verse2">And fired Belluno many a thunderous gun,</p> -<p class="verse2">Which Britain’s warriors fiercely shouting won;</p> -<p class="verse2">And plunged our horsemen down the fearful chasm,</p> -<p class="verse2">Though smote, victorious; and terrific run</p> -<p class="verse2">The flames through shrubs all parched by heat’s miasm,</p> -<p class="verse">Burning the wounded men who lay in mortal spasm!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">X.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And on Busaco’s horrid mountain-crest,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where topples o’er the crags the convent-tower,</p> -<p class="verse2">And bayonets bristled o’er the eagle’s nest.</p> -<p class="verse2">The foeman climbs the steep with wondrous power,</p> -<p class="verse2">But swift our charging files their host devour,</p> -<p class="verse2">And down the mountain-side they slaughtered roll.</p> -<p class="verse2">Massena rash, of valour Ney the flower,</p> -<p class="verse2">Vainly up wooded dell and pine-clad knoll</p> -<p class="verse">Urged their fierce veterans. Our’s that day was Glory’s goal!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And at Fuéntes d’Onor, whose chapelled steep</p> -<p class="verse2">’Gainst multiplied assaults thy forces shield;</p> -<p class="verse2">Too late arriving, save the dead to weep,</p> -<p class="verse2">At Albuera’s dire, tremendous field,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where great the cost—yet Victory’s clarion pealed;</p> -<p class="verse2">And with terrific march the fusiliers,</p> -<p class="verse2">When shook the balance scorning proud to yield,</p> -<p class="verse2">Mounted the fatal hill which cannon clears,</p> -<p class="verse">And hurled the foeman down with deafening British cheers!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And at Rodrigo, where the counterscarp</p> -<p class="verse2">Inviolate standing cost thy Crawfurd’s life,</p> -<p class="verse2">And ’gainst stern wall and cannon rattling sharp</p> -<p class="verse2">Man’s naked breast maintained unequal strife;</p> -<p class="verse2">And Badajoz, where on the stormers, rife</p> -<p class="verse2">With daring, rushed by deadly breach and scale,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like lava poured ’gainst bayonet, pike, and knife,</p> -<p class="verse2">Fronting a hurricane of iron hail,</p> -<p class="verse">And mowed by shot and shell—yet made the foeman quail!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">For nought could baffle England’s trusted Chief,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who Marmont’s lines on Salamanca’s plain</p> -<p class="verse2">Smote like a thunderbolt, keen—rapid—brief,</p> -<p class="verse2">And rent his legions like a shattered chain!</p> -<p class="verse2">And at Vitoria wrenched the crown of Spain</p> -<p class="verse2">From the poor tremulous Usurper’s hand,</p> -<p class="verse2">The spoils of Empire seized, a countless train</p> -<p class="verse2">Of cannon, standards, eagles—trophies grand—</p> -<p class="verse">Nor, fiery Jourdan, least, thy bâton of command!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And now upon Navarre’s Typhæan crest</p> -<p class="verse2">He stands triumphant, threatening haughty France,</p> -<p class="verse2">While bounds once more Iberia’s lovely breast,</p> -<p class="verse2">And close the wounds that held in death-like trance.</p> -<p class="verse2">Proud beams her eye—she bids the Chief advance,</p> -<p class="verse2">And points to Roncesvalles where of old</p> -<p class="verse2">She crushed the invading Gaul with mighty lance.</p> -<p class="verse2">See, see a Briton as Bernardo bold</p> -<p class="verse">His conquering chariot-wheel o’er Gallia’s host hath rolled!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Sublime Pyrene feels his vigorous tread,</p> -<p class="verse2">And trembles Gaul with all her martial sons,</p> -<p class="verse2">For sure as Fate his legions shall be led</p> -<p class="verse2">To where Garumna’s stream to Ocean runs.</p> -<p class="verse2">Even now his mighty stride the nations stuns!</p> -<p class="verse2">Soult, on thine arm an Empire’s fate depends.</p> -<p class="verse2">From San Sebastian’s fortress to Bayonne’s,</p> -<p class="verse2">By Sarre and Ustaritz great Arthur bends.</p> -<p class="verse">Soult spreads incessant toils which England’s lion rends.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Through many a craggy pass and dread defile,</p> -<p class="verse2">From Oyarzún and Bidasóa’s stream,</p> -<p class="verse2">By rugged steeps that Ossa’s crest outpile,</p> -<p class="verse2">And cataract beds that Earth to sunder seem—</p> -<p class="verse2">Pyrene’s fearful wilderness where teem</p> -<p class="verse2">All forms of savage beauty—olive, larch,</p> -<p class="verse2">Pine, myrtle mixed,—and forests hair-like gleam</p> -<p class="verse2">Upon that couchant monster’s spinal arch,—</p> -<p class="verse">Still slow the leaguered French recede before our march.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">What cavalcade through San Sebastian rides?</p> -<p class="verse2">A Chieftain mighty and a senior grave;</p> -<p class="verse2">A blooming warrior next his steed bestrides,</p> -<p class="verse2">Like young Achilles to whom Chiron gave</p> -<p class="verse2">The Centaur’s mastery. With bounding wave</p> -<p class="verse2">His light plume dances o’er a maiden fair,</p> -<p class="verse2">Who reins her genet too with spirit brave;</p> -<p class="verse2">Worthy, me seems, her grace and beauty rare</p> -<p class="verse">With that young hero proud companionship to bear.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">’Tis Nial—Isabel; great Arthur’s form</p> -<p class="verse2">With grave Salustian’s stately fills the van.</p> -<p class="verse2">They reach the central square where late the storm</p> -<p class="verse2">Of War with surges wild hath rolled o’er San</p> -<p class="verse2">Sebastian dire calamity to Man.</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur sad surveyed the ruin round,</p> -<p class="verse2">And at the sight a tear his eye o’erran,</p> -<p class="verse2">For every house was now a blackened mound,</p> -<p class="verse">And Solitude more grim where Life so late was found.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Round Santa Clara’s isle that instant came</p> -<p class="verse2">The Basque barqueras in their shallops slight;</p> -<p class="verse2">Their graceful oaring still was plied the same,</p> -<p class="verse2">But one fair pinnace less careered in sight.</p> -<p class="verse2">Ah, where is she—their glory and delight?</p> -<p class="verse2">Rose softly sad and low from distance borne</p> -<p class="verse2">A plaintive strain that in its dying flight</p> -<p class="verse2">Fell on the town where other breasts are torn.</p> -<p class="verse">’Tis thus in chorus sweet they raise their plaint forlorn:—</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2 pfs120 antiqua lsp">The Dirge.</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">Weep, Biscaya, weep!</p> -<p class="verse2">’Mongst dead and dying,</p> -<p class="verse">On the bloody heap</p> -<p class="verse2">Is Blanca lying.</p> -<p class="verse">William’s sword hath smote</p> -<p class="verse2">Her bosom heaving,</p> -<p class="verse">Her on whom we doat</p> -<p class="verse2">Of life bereaving.</p> -<p class="verse4">Weep, Biscaya, weep!</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span></p> - -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">Pierced though William’s sword</p> -<p class="verse2">That bounding billow,</p> -<p class="verse">Yet his corse adored</p> -<p class="verse2">She makes her pillow.</p> -<p class="verse">Red is William’s vest,</p> -<p class="verse2">With glory wreathéd.</p> -<p class="verse">Redder is the breast</p> -<p class="verse2">Transfixed beneath it.</p> -<p class="verse4">Weep, Biscaya, weep!</p> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">Ne’er could William stain</p> -<p class="verse2">That bosom tender.</p> -<p class="verse">How the deed would pain</p> -<p class="verse2">Her brave defender!</p> -<p class="verse">Who in all the land</p> -<p class="verse2">So crime-convicted?</p> -<p class="verse">Ah, ’twas Blanca’s hand</p> -<p class="verse2">The wound inflicted.</p> -<p class="verse4">Weep, Biscaya, weep!</p> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">Heaven for deeds of note</p> -<p class="verse2">So daring made her.</p> -<p class="verse">Her’s the arm that smote</p> -<p class="verse2">The French invader.</p> -<p class="verse">Flashed her carbine true,</p> -<p class="verse2">The Norman felling.</p> -<p class="verse">Pierced that spirit, too,</p> -<p class="verse2">Its own pure dwelling.</p> -<p class="verse4">Weep, Biscaya, weep!</p> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">Ne’er was true-love seen</p> -<p class="verse2">Like her’s undying.</p> -<p class="verse">Few like her, I ween,</p> -<p class="verse2">The grave defying.</p> -<p class="verse">Broken heart the sod</p> -<p class="verse2">Can fittest cover.</p> -<p class="verse"><em>She</em> could not, oh God!</p> -<p class="verse2">Survive her lover.</p> -<p class="verse4">San Sebastian, weep!</p> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Now, Don Salustian”—thus great Arthur said—</p> -<p class="verse2">“This piteous scene doth touch my heart full sore,</p> -<p class="verse2">And if War brought not Peace, the Invader fled,</p> -<p class="verse2">My sword were haply sheathed for ever more;</p> -<p class="verse2">For none can deeplier Battle’s wreck deplore.</p> -<p class="verse2">But e’en these ills can Spaniards bear for Spain,</p> -<p class="verse2">As England bears her warriors’ streaming gore;</p> -<p class="verse2">And from this hour the villain wears a chain,</p> -<p class="verse">Who dares by deeds like these our triumphs to profane.”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Salustian bowed with grave Hidalgo pride:—</p> -<p class="verse2">“Your words, great Chief, console the Spanish heart.”</p> -<p class="verse2">Then Nial bounded to great Arthur’s side;</p> -<p class="verse2">His hat is doffed, his plume doth bird-like start,</p> -<p class="verse2">His curls rich wave, his eyes new lightnings dart:</p> -<p class="verse2">“Give, give the right this maiden fair to shield;</p> -<p class="verse2">Still suffering she from San Sebastian’s smart,</p> -<p class="verse2">Saved from the wreck of worse than battle-field:</p> -<p class="verse">Give, give at altar-foot a husband’s right to wield.”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">A word Salustian with the Chief exchanged,</p> -<p class="verse2">And smiles on both their faces cordial beam.</p> -<p class="verse2">Sweet Isabel her timid glances ranged</p> -<p class="verse2">From side to side—a momentary gleam</p> -<p class="verse2">O’ercast with blushes that like roses seem.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her fluttering breast now pants like prisoned bird,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her downcast eyes reluctant ye might deem;</p> -<p class="verse2">But oh, what joy doth light them at a word:</p> -<p class="verse">Young Nial says, “Thou’rt mine!” and every heart is stirred.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur blest the union, promising</p> -<p class="verse2">That Nial’s fortunes should be England’s care,</p> -<p class="verse2">For of her eaglets none with stronger wing</p> -<p class="verse2">To soar in Victory’s blazing sunlight dare.</p> -<p class="verse2">Salustian called on both a blessing rare!</p> -<p class="verse2">And Nial caught her beauteous hand, while fast</p> -<p class="verse2">She melts in tears which joy and sorrow share;</p> -<p class="verse2">In kisses o’er her hand his soul was cast,</p> -<p class="verse">The hastening cavalcade to Fuéntarabia past.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Now War his direful tasks again pursues</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er rugged steep and castled crag sublime;</p> -<p class="verse2">And, Gaul, thy fields no longer sacred lose</p> -<p class="verse2">The conquering fame that propt Invasion’s crime.</p> -<p class="verse2">The mountain-barriers of thy Southern clime</p> -<p class="verse2">No more shall serve as bulwarks for thy soil,</p> -<p class="verse2">For Britain’s sons advance as sure as Time,</p> -<p class="verse2">Soult’s bristling huge entrenchments instant spoil,</p> -<p class="verse">And onward march with ease where mocked was human toil.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">See on Pyrene’s loftiest summit stand</p> -<p class="verse2">Majestic Freedom, o’er the despot’s frown</p> -<p class="verse2">Gigantic towering till her forehead grand</p> -<p class="verse2">The Sun encircles for a fitting crown,</p> -<p class="verse2">And stream rays brighter from her eyelids down!</p> -<p class="verse2">The rainbow clothes her Heaven-ascending form.</p> -<p class="verse2">Her mighty arm great Arthur beckons on,</p> -<p class="verse2">Against Soult’s host to urge the fiery storm,</p> -<p class="verse">And thus with voice sublime she speaks in accents warm:—</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Oh Arthur! thou my soldier and my shield,</p> -<p class="verse2">In whom revived to-day is e’en surpassed</p> -<p class="verse2">Another Arthur’s fame who first revealed</p> -<p class="verse2">The heroic glow of Chivalry, and cast</p> -<p class="verse2">A blaze o’er England which for aye will last.</p> -<p class="verse2">Greater thy glory than Pendragon’s son</p> -<p class="verse2">With all his knights achieved—to strike aghast</p> -<p class="verse2">My fiercest foe in many a battle won,</p> -<p class="verse">And still with Victory’s march his countless legions stun.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“List to thy Destiny, and nerve thy arm</p> -<p class="verse2">To accomplish Heaven’s designs. By fair Nivelle</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy next great battle shall with dire alarm</p> -<p class="verse2">Man’s bitter foes affright in Earth and Hell.</p> -<p class="verse2">For fortress-crags and precipices fell,</p> -<p class="verse2">Cyclopian castles hewn from solid rock,</p> -<p class="verse2">Redoubt and natural tower where eagles dwell,</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou’lt instant carry with resistless shock,</p> -<p class="verse">The arméd river ford, the plains of France bemock!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Next o’er the Nive thou’lt pass by quick surprise</p> -<p class="verse2">At Ustaritz ’neath Cambo’s beacon light</p> -<p class="verse2">The stream thy dashing cavalry defies,</p> -<p class="verse2">Scorns the pontoon and dares the unequal fight</p> -<p class="verse2">And some shall perish torrent-swept from sight!</p> -<p class="verse2">Next by Barouilhet’s ridge with thickets spread</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou’lt stand resistless, battling thrice till night</p> -<p class="verse2">The combat palls, and still to Victory led—</p> -<p class="verse">Triumphant at Saint Pierre, ’mid thousand warriors dead.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Then o’er the Adour a monster-bridge thou’lt cast,</p> -<p class="verse2">Lashing the Ocean-tide with chain of power,</p> -<p class="verse2">Through no vain boast like Xerxes when he past</p> -<p class="verse2">The stormy Hellespont to mine my tower</p> -<p class="verse2">In godlike Greece—but fell before her flower!</p> -<p class="verse2">Hope’s chained chasse-marées and gigantic boom</p> -<p class="verse2">Shall ope a pathway to extend my dower</p> -<p class="verse2">To Nations suffering ’neath despotic doom,</p> -<p class="verse">And o’er the dashing surge shall roll the cannon’s womb.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And next at Orthez from its Roman camp</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou’lt baffle Soult upon his convex hill,</p> -<p class="verse2">His ardour ev’n ’mid seeming victory damp,</p> -<p class="verse2">And pour thy Picton’s veterans, matchless still,</p> -<p class="verse2">Through the dread marsh with new dismay to fill</p> -<p class="verse2">The French battalions, Cotton’s bold hussars</p> -<p class="verse2">Their rout completing. There thy dauntless will</p> -<p class="verse2">Thou’lt prove ’neath wound which nought thy progress bars,</p> -<p class="verse">And France thy onward tread shall feel, despite of scars!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“Then on the steep and wooded height of Aire,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where Lusitain’s brigade shall bleeding fly,</p> -<p class="verse2">And lose the battle but that Hill is there,</p> -<p class="verse2">Resolved with British steel to do or die!</p> -<p class="verse2">While ’neath the Frenchman’s charge your galled ally</p> -<p class="verse2">Outnumbered falls, the might of England’s sons</p> -<p class="verse2">Will turn the stream of battle, raising high</p> -<p class="verse2">The fearful war-shout which the foeman stuns,</p> -<p class="verse">Who flies to where the Adour with branching channel runs.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“At Tarbes, Bigorre, and Gaudens thou shalt next</p> -<p class="verse2">Still conquering pass to fair Tolosa’s wall,</p> -<p class="verse2">Where Soult will desperate stand, and Spain perplext</p> -<p class="verse2">Behold her warriors snared in thousands fall.</p> -<p class="verse2">But Clinton, Beresford his breast-works all</p> -<p class="verse2">Will dauntless carry amid carnage dire;</p> -<p class="verse2">Mont Rave thou’lt win ere Night shall spread her pall,</p> -<p class="verse2">And bristling still shall warlike Soult retire,</p> -<p class="verse">While o’er Garonne thou’lt pass and Victory’s salvo fire.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">“And in that hour thou’lt learn not e’en the great</p> -<p class="verse2">Usurper’s genius can avert his doom.</p> -<p class="verse2">His crown an instant he resigns to Fate,</p> -<p class="verse2">But with more fierce rebound new sway to assume.</p> -<p class="verse2">War-fires shall then the Belgian fields illume.</p> -<p class="verse2">’Tis thine Napoléon’s self at Waterloo</p> -<p class="verse2">To crush for aye. Despite his cannon’s boom,</p> -<p class="verse2">Terrific rout and bondage he will rue.</p> -<p class="verse">Soldier of Liberty, this task remains to do!”</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">She said, and pointing to the fields of France,</p> -<p class="verse2">And beckoning Arthur on with Godlike smile,</p> -<p class="verse2">That bids the Hero fearlessly advance,</p> -<p class="verse2">Her giant form dissolves in air, the while</p> -<p class="verse2">Pyrene shakes with earthquake many a mile,</p> -<p class="verse2">From peak to peak the volleying thunders roll.</p> -<p class="verse2">Great Arthur marched, and heaped the trophied pile,</p> -<p class="verse2">His Destiny fulfilling to its goal,</p> -<p class="verse">And Heaven for long renown hath spared his hero-soul.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Aggressive Conquest! tempt not Freedom’s shields,</p> -<p class="verse2">For Britons still your fiercest ire can quell.</p> -<p class="verse2">Ambition, Treachery seized Iberia’s fields,</p> -<p class="verse2">And mark how freemen tyrant-bands expel!</p> -<p class="verse2">If Victory cheered us, ’twas that Spain might dwell</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath her vine secure from despot’s frown.</p> -<p class="verse2">And if thy dauntless children battled well,</p> -<p class="verse2">No need thy Edwards, Henries left thy crown,</p> -<p class="verse">No need, Britannia, left thy Marlborough of renown!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Grand though thy trophies, ne’er by land or main</p> -<p class="verse2">Shall War’s barbarian triumphs wake thy pride;</p> -<p class="verse2">No blood-stained laurels shall thy forehead stain,</p> -<p class="verse2">But Peace with olive branch o’ershadowing bide,</p> -<p class="verse2">And mark the Godhead in thy empire wide.</p> -<p class="verse2">Not human anguish but new joy to Man</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy limbs shall shed in their colossal stride;</p> -<p class="verse2">Foredoomed despotic wrath and wrong to ban,</p> -<p class="verse">And make creation square with the Eternal plan!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">As thine the curb, so thine be too the scourge,</p> -<p class="verse2">Not lightly used, but terrible in need.</p> -<p class="verse2">Earth, like Alcides, of its monsters purge,</p> -<p class="verse2">Both hydra-tyrants and the single breed!</p> -<p class="verse2">Untusk the boar, and shatter like a reed</p> -<p class="verse2">The swords resisting Justice; yet be thine</p> -<p class="verse2">With mercy to attemper strength of deed;</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor let thy Fecial seers too nice refine,</p> -<p class="verse">But loveliest rays of Truth through all thy orbit shine.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XXXVIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Strong be thy armament as fits thy strength</p> -<p class="verse2">Of mandate powerful thy Lernæan clave;</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor pinch nor waste distort from its due length</p> -<p class="verse2">The sword of Justice which the Godhead gave.</p> -<p class="verse2">And, firstly, still, Britannia, rule the wave!</p> -<p class="verse2">With floating battlements to plough the main,</p> -<p class="verse2">Make peaceful every shore! Bid every slave,</p> -<p class="verse2">While freemen prouder swell, dash off his chain,</p> -<p class="verse">When thy artillery’s roar is heard o’er Ocean’s plain!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XXXIX.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And lording o’er thy empire of the Deep,</p> -<p class="verse2">Whose noblest uses are thy virtue’s dower,</p> -<p class="verse2">Diffusing knowledge where thy navies sweep,</p> -<p class="verse2">And linking distant lands, where rolls each hour</p> -<p class="verse2">That mightiest image of surpassing power,</p> -<p class="verse2">Reign on beneficent—the Nations tell</p> -<p class="verse2">Thy commerce, like thy shore, is Freedom’s tower.</p> -<p class="verse2">Scatter with Godlike hand wide blessings—quell</p> -<p class="verse">The factious voice abroad, the subjects who rebel.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XL.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Shall boys the emerald from thy circlet rend,</p> -<p class="verse2">Queen of the Nations, Mistress of the Seas?</p> -<p class="verse2">Must all thy glories thus obscurely end—</p> -<p class="verse2">A rag of Empire fluttering to the breeze!</p> -<p class="verse2">And shall Britannia vail to such as these,</p> -<p class="verse2">Barbarian traffickers in base turmoil,</p> -<p class="verse2">The sceptre at whose wave Oppression flees?</p> -<p class="verse2">No, no; while springs a leaf o’er all her soil,</p> -<p class="verse">Shall men too spring up there to mock Sedition’s toil!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">And generous hearts are Erin’s. Think not they</p> -<p class="verse2">Who storm the loudest are the deepest felt.</p> -<p class="verse2">Fair shines the Moon, though dogs unquiet bay,</p> -<p class="verse2">And rusts the sword that rattled in the belt;</p> -<p class="verse2">Ere crost, how would the clamorous phalanx melt?</p> -<p class="verse2">In scurril threats, that wound not, most they shine.</p> -<p class="verse2">Too base the altars where they’ve groveling knelt,</p> -<p class="verse2">To feel—true Celts—the valourous glow divine</p> -<p class="verse">That led thy “hope forlorn” in many a battle line.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Let selfish virulence its coffers fill,</p> -<p class="verse2">Let half-formed striplings dream that they have minds;</p> -<p class="verse2">But vaunts mistake not for a nation’s will,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor lucre’s lust for what the true heart binds.</p> -<p class="verse2">Some fervent spirits still the mockery blinds</p> -<p class="verse2">Of patriot zeal, but fades the dream amain,</p> -<p class="verse2">And scatters the weak bubble to the winds.</p> -<p class="verse2">Not Erin’s heart partakes the traitor-stain;</p> -<p class="verse">Sound to the core the breast that bled for thee in Spain!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLIII.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Yet gently deal with that distracted land;</p> -<p class="verse2">With generous flood of bounty soothe her woes.</p> -<p class="verse2">Mete Justice with no nice or niggard hand,</p> -<p class="verse2">But heap like coals of fire upon thy foes</p> -<p class="verse2">Magnanimous replies to dastard blows!</p> -<p class="verse2">Not false the people—every boon be theirs,</p> -<p class="verse2">Each healing measure quivering wounds to close.</p> -<p class="verse2">Forget not that thy fame Ierne shares;</p> -<p class="verse">Forget not that she gave great Arthur to thy wars!</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="canto">XLIV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Fulfil thy destiny! Resistless spread</p> -<p class="verse2">Through boundless Asia, forced to bear thy arms.</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er Scindian waters be thy spirit shed,</p> -<p class="verse2">Divulging ev’n in Conquest Freedom’s charms!</p> -<p class="verse2">Earth shaketh still with Battle’s late alarms,</p> -<p class="verse2">Yet peace and joy pervade the fields thou’st won;</p> -<p class="verse2"><span class="smcap">Victoria</span> blesses with her hand—not harms.</p> -<p class="verse2">Beneath Britannia’s sway shall millions run;</p> -<p class="verse">Earth’s labouring head art thou, her Cyclop eye and sun!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Yet robed in power and grandeur, bate thy pride,</p> -<p class="verse2">And ’mid thy glory shudder at thy shame,</p> -<p class="verse2">For starves the vagrant by the palace side,</p> -<p class="verse2">And misery’s blight is tarnishing thy fame.</p> -<p class="verse2">Your bosoms, boundless wealth and luxury, tame;</p> -<p class="verse2">Nor rags nor squalor all your laws can ban.</p> -<p class="verse2">Deal, deal more kindly with the poor, nor frame</p> -<p class="verse2">A felon statute each offence to scan;</p> -<p class="verse">And let not Ignorance mar the Eternal’s image, Man!</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="canto">XLVI.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse2">Oh England! to thyself be true, nor fear</p> -<p class="verse2">But every hostile voice will soon be dumb.</p> -<p class="verse2">Smile on majestic ev’n while thou dost hear</p> -<p class="verse2">O’er subject Ocean roll the doubling drum.</p> -<p class="verse2">There sleep their wrath, or let the Invader come!</p> -<p class="verse2">To thee indifferent—thou wilt strike no blow,</p> -<p class="verse2">Save for such cause as Heaven descendeth from.</p> -<p class="verse2">Live, Arbitress of Peace and War, that so</p> -<p class="verse">All Earth may court thy smile, and dread thee as a foe!</p> -</div></div> - - - <div class="chapter"></div> - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p4" /> -<h2>HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES -TO CANTO XII.</h2> - -<div class="notes"> - -<p class="noindent">The allusion at the commencement of this Canto is more especially -to the admirable regulations established and enforced while our -troops were upon the French territory. Never, since the days of -the great Gustavus, was such discipline preserved in an enemy’s -country. Captain Batty attests the excellent feeling produced -amongst the inhabitants of St. Jean de Luz and its neighbourhood -by the wonderful restraint observed by our army while stationed -there in cantonments. (<cite>Campaign of the Western Pyrenees.</cite>) The -well-known General Order of Wellington enforcing this discipline -can never be forgotten, as the brightest monument of civilized -war—perhaps in certain circumstances an inevitable calamity, but -by him softened to the smallest infliction of injury. An official -letter written from Bayonne, and quoted by Napier, book xxiv. -chap. 1, contains this splendid testimony;—“The English general’s -policy, and the good discipline he maintains, do us more harm -than ten battles. Every peasant wishes to be under his protection.”</p> - -<p>The principal battles are described in the order of their occurrence, -and my impressions from recent visits are here recorded.</p> - -<p>The ravines which intersect the heights of Roriça are overgrown -with the beautiful shrubs, which make the wild districts of Portugal -so delightful. The arbutus and myrtle I noted especially. Near -the top of the middle pass is a small opening in the form of a -wedge, nearly covered with these shrubs, where the severest fighting -took place. The principal column in the main attack advanced -under cover of some olive and cork trees, the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">ilex</i> of the text. The -name of this battle-ground (as remarked in my Introduction) has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> -been frequently disfigured in English accounts. “Rolissa” is a common -form of error; and the usual, but absurdly erroneous, form -was for many years, “Roleia.” The true reading is that in the -text. This battle was fought on the 17th August, 1808.</p> - -<p>The difficulty of the ground, both at Vimieiro and at Roriça, -struck me as only inferior to that of the terrible Serra of Busaco, -and the still more gigantic inequalities of the Pyrenees. In front -of the little village of Vimieiro, sweetly situated in a valley watered -by the silver stream of Maceira, rises a rugged and detached -flat-topped hill, commanding the passes which stretch to the south -and east. A fearful ravine, the scene of great carnage, separates -a mountain, that sweeps in a crescent from the coast, from another -range of heights over which passes the road from Vimieiro to -Lourinham, and which returns to the coast with a sudden bend -backwards, terminating there in a tall and precipitous cliff. The -ground between the points where the two armies were posted is -wooded and broken in an extraordinary degree, especially by the -deep ravine above referred to, where Brennier was for a considerable -time entangled. Kellerman’s reserves were posted in a pine wood. -Our 43rd regiment, stationed amongst some vineyards, covered -with ripening grapes, to which allusion is made in the text, for -the battle was fought on the 21st August, 1808, maintained a fierce -contest against the French grenadiers, whom they eventually -scattered with a furious onset of the bayonet, the regiment suffering -severely. On the crest of the ridge Solignac was equally defeated; -the French artillery, taken and rescued for a time, were -finally retaken, and their discomfited troops compelled to retreat.</p> - -<p>The glorious battle of Talavera was fought on the 28th July, -1809, when the “burning sun” described in the text was so fierce -and scathing as to tempt the soldiers of both armies, before the -commencement of the fight, down to the little brook which separated -their positions, not far from the memorable hill which was -the vital point of the action, where they quenched their thirst -together, mingling without any attempt at mutual molestation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span> -with a degree of reciprocal confidence which was not without -something chivalrous in its character. I slaked my thirst at the -same stream on my visit, and could not help smiling at the remark -of a Spanish peasant, that that water to this hour is “<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">ensangrentada!</i>” -I pointed to its limpid purity, which assuredly had -nothing of the crimson hue. The mingling of the French and -English troops at this stream for such a purpose reminded me of a -passage in my life which occurred in 1836 at Compiègne in France, -where the late lamented Duke of Orléans had formed a camp for -military exercises, which I attended as a spectator. The heat was -likewise then intolerable, and I slaked my thirst at a streamlet on -the ground in the midst of scores of French soldiers, similarly -employed, who assisted me with great politeness. At Talavera -the French, posted near the Tagus, amongst some olive groves -which were in full bloom at the period of my visit, commenced -the battle with a tempest of bullets from no fewer than 80 pieces -of artillery. The “Belluno” alluded to in the text was Marshal -Victor, Duke of that name. “The English regiments met the -advancing columns.” “Their loud and confident shouts—sure -augury of success—were heard along the whole line.” (Napier, -<cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> book viii. chap. 2.) A terrible charge of -cavalry was executed by the 23rd, down a nearly precipitous cleft, -in which half the regiment was sacrificed. The charge of the 48th -decided the day, which says Napier “was one of hard, honest -fighting,” and for which Sir Arthur Wellesley first was made a Peer. -“The battle was scarcely over when the dry grass and shrubs taking -fire, a volume of flames passed with inconceivable rapidity across -a part of the field, scorching in its course both the dead and the -wounded.” (Napier, <cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> book viii. chap. 2.)</p> - -<p>My first reflection, on ascending the Serra of Busaco, was one -of astonishment how any troops could act in such terrifically -broken ground. It seemed almost impracticable to my mule. -Yet up these tremendous steeps the French scaled rather than -charged with a degree of active energy and hardihood, which well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> -deserves the compliment paid to them by Napier: “In this battle -of Busaco, the French, after astonishing efforts of valour, were repulsed, -in the manner to be expected from the strength of the -ground, and the goodness of the soldiers opposed to them.” -(<cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> book xi. chap. 7.) It was not easy in -imagination to conjure up the spectacle of these elevated crags -fronting the peaceful convent, and these crests of rugged mountains -scattered in tumbling confusion around, bristling all over with -bayonets as they did before sunrise on that eventful morning, thirty-six -years since, and the French emerging from those wooded ravines, -and rushing up the face of these fearful heights, down which they -were hurled again, their bodies strewing the way to the very -depths of the valley. A mist capped the mountain on my visit, and -it was so on the day of the battle—the 27th September, 1810. -“In less than half an hour the French were close upon the summit; -so swiftly and with such astonishing power and resolution did they -scale the mountain.” (Napier, <cite>Hist. War in the Penins. ibid.</cite>) -“The Duke”’s despatch is, as usual, succinct and forcible. -Massena’s character, as drawn by Napoléon, was as follows:—“Brave, -decided, and intrepid * * his dispositions for battle -bad, but his temper pertinacious to the last degree.” His rashness -was here apparent. His ruthless cruelty and infamous burnings -and destruction, in retreating from the Lines of Torres -Vedras six months later, including his firing of the Convent of -Alcobaça, make the name which Napoléon gave him, “the child -of victory,” unworthy by the side of Ney, “the bravest of the -brave.”</p> - -<p>The battle of Fuentes de Onoro, fought on the 5th May, 1811, -was no very decided triumph, although most undoubtedly a -victory, since the principal object of the allies, the covering of the -blockade of Almeida, was successfully accomplished. The village -of Fuentes, so often attacked throughout the day, was unflinchingly -and gallantly defended; and on the chapel and crags which -surmount the town we maintained our ground to the last, while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> -the French retired a cannon-shot from the stream. My attention -was invited in a more lively degree by the neighbouring fortress of -Almeida, which was the scene of such repeated actions during the -Peninsular War, and where occurred the curious siege in 1844 by -the forces of the Portuguese government, when it was occupied -by a revolutionary party under the Conde do Bomfim, aiming at -the subversion of Dona Maria’s prerogative.</p> - -<p>The battle of Albuera was fought on the 16th May, 1811, eleven -days after the battle of Fuentes de Onoro. At Albuera the personal -gallantry of Marshal Beresford was more conspicuous than the -generalship. Our loss in killed and wounded here was greater -than in any other action during the Peninsular War. Wellington -arrived on the field the third day after the battle. For several -days before it the Spaniards had been reduced to horse-flesh for a -subsistence! Yet on the whole they fought well. It was the -terrific charge and indomitable valour of the Fusiliers that gained -the day. Never was British infantry seen to greater advantage. -“The terrible balance hung for two hours, and twice trembling -to the sinister side, only yielded at last to the superlative vigour -of the fusiliers.” (Napier, <cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> book xii. -chap. 7.)</p> - -<p>The assault of Ciudad Rodrigo took place on the 19th January, -1812. The success was the result of desperate valour, time not -permitting the regular approaches of scientific skill, as it was -hourly expected that Marmont would arrive to succour the town. -“Wellington resolved to storm the place without blowing in the -counterscarp; in other words, to overstep the rules of science, -and sacrifice life rather than time, for such was the capricious -nature of the Agueda that in one night a flood might enable a -small French force to relieve the place.” (Napier, <cite>Hist. War in the -Penins.</cite> book xvi. chap. 3.) “The storming party went straight to -the breach, which was so contracted that a gun placed lengthwise -across the top nearly blocked up the opening. * * The audacious -manner in which Wellington stormed the redoubt of Francisco,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> -and broke ground on the first night of the investment; the -more audacious manner in which he assaulted the place before the -fire of the defence had been in any manner lessened, * * were -the true causes of the sudden fall of the place. * * When the -general terminated his order for the assault with this sentence, -‘Ciudad Rodrigo must be stormed this evening,’ he knew well -that it would be nobly understood.” (<em>Ibid.</em>) The vital contest -lasted only a few minutes, but cost the gallant Crawfurd’s -life. “Throwing off the restraints of discipline, the troops -committed frightful excesses. The town was fired in three -or four places, the soldiers menaced their officers, and shot -each other; many were killed in the market-place, intoxication -soon increased the tumult, disorder everywhere prevailed, -and at last, the fury rising to an absolute madness, a fire was -wilfully lighted in the middle of the great magazine, when the -town and all in it would have been blown to atoms, but for -the energetic courage of some officers and a few soldiers who still -preserved their senses.” (<em>Ibid.</em>) It is fit that the glories of War -should have hung up by their side this pendent picture of its -Hellish atrocities and horrors. The “frightful excesses” are here -but imperfectly detailed. Neither age nor sex was spared from -any description of outrage; and it was against the Spanish people -unarmed, helpless, and allies, that these villanies of unbridled -passion were committed. Warlike ambition contains within it -the germs of every crime; and War itself, unless purely defensive -and inevitable, is the concentration of all malignity.</p> - -<p>The approach to Badajoz from the side of Elvas is exceedingly -interesting. The Portuguese fortress of Elvas is perched on a lofty -hill, with the valley at its foot which separates it at the distance -of three leagues from Badajoz and the mountains of the Spanish -frontier. I was struck by the contrast between the warm and -cultivated quintas on the Elvas side, and the bleakness on that of -Badajoz. The sun had just risen over the hills of Spanish Estremadura, -which clad in the deepest purple were boldly yet delicately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> -limned along the sky. The road was covered with numberless screeching -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">carros</i>, and the whistling contrabandists and sturdy almocrebes -conducting their mules in listless silence formed a wonderful -contrast with my thoughts, which were full of the ‘pride, pomp, -and circumstance’ of War. When I entered Badajoz, which I -did from the side of Madrid, I could not help shuddering at -the sight of those walls which, little more than thirty years -back, witnessed so terrible a conflict—“a combat,” says Napier -“so fiercely fought, so terribly won, so dreadful in all its circumstances, -that posterity can scarcely be expected to credit the -tale; but many are still alive who know that it is true.” (<cite>Hist. -War in the Penins.</cite> book xvi. chap. 5.) The courage of Philippon -and the garrison was of the highest order. The assault combined -escalade and storm, and took place in the night of the 6th April, -1812. For a detailed description of this wonderful and terrific -scene I must refer to Napier’s History, whose magnificent narrative -it is impossible to abridge. “The ramparts crowded with -dark figures and glittering arms were seen on the one side, and on -the other the red columns of the British, deep and broad, were -coming on like streams of burning lava; * * a crash of thunder -followed, and with incredible violence the storming parties were -dashed to pieces by the explosion of hundreds of shells and powder-barrels.” -(Napier, <em>ibid.</em>) “Now a multitude bounded up the great -breach as if driven by a whirlwind, but across the top glittered a -range of sword-blades, sharp-pointed, keen-edged on both sides, -and firmly fixed in ponderous beams, which were chained together -and set deep in the ruins; and fourteen feet in front, the ascent was -covered with loose planks, studded with sharp iron points, on which -the feet of the foremost being set the planks moved, and the unhappy -soldiers, falling forward on the spikes, rolled down upon the -ranks behind.” (<em>Ibid.</em>) “Two hours spent in these vain efforts -convinced the soldiers that the breach of the Trinidad was impregnable. -* * Gathering in dark groups, and leaning on their -muskets, they looked up with sullen desperation, while the enemy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> -stepping out on the ramparts, and aiming their shot by the light -of the fire-balls which they threw over, asked, as their victims -fell, <em>Why they did not come into Badajoz?</em>” (<em>Ibid.</em>) Five thousand -men fell during the siege, of whom 3,500 were struck -during the assault. Five generals were wounded. More than -2,000 men fell at the breaches! Philippon surrendered early -next morning. To the heroic Picton and his “fighting third” -division the success was chiefly attributable. “Now commenced -that wild and desperate wickedness, which tarnished -the lustre of the soldier’s heroism. All indeed were not alike, -for hundreds risked and many lost their lives in striving to stop -the violence, but the madness generally prevailed, and as the worst -men were leaders here, all the dreadful passions of human nature -were displayed. Shameless rapacity, brutal intemperance, savage -lust, cruelty, and murder, shrieks and piteous lamentations, groans, -shouts, imprecations, the hissing of fires bursting from the houses, -the crashing of doors and windows, and the reports of muskets -used in violence, resounded for two days and nights in the streets -of Badajoz! on the third, when the city was sacked, when the -soldiers were exhausted by their own excesses, the tumult rather -subsided than was quelled. The wounded men were then looked -to, the dead disposed of.” (<em>Ibid.</em>) Let this scene be for ever engraven -on our minds—let its horrors be a response to the insane -clamour for war. And, notwithstanding the glories of our Peninsular -campaigns, let us resolve that a sword we will never draw but -in defence of our own soil!</p> - -<p>The ever memorable battle of Salamanca took place in the same -month of July in which three years before had been fought the -equally glorious battle of Talavera—and even in still more sultry -weather, so much so that before the engagement at Salamanca, on -one occasion when the French, pressing upon our rear, were scattered -by the bayonet, some of our men fainted with the heat. On -the eve of the battle, a terrific thunder-storm came on just as -the enemy were taking up their position. The sky was kindled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> -with incessant lightnings, and through the heavy rain which subsequently -fell, the French fires could be seen along their entire -line. It is a remarkable fact that nearly every one of our chief -battles in the Peninsula was heralded by a storm, as if Nature -sympathized in the contest. That of Salamanca was fought upon -a plain surrounded by ranges of hills—one of the few open and -level tracts upon which the rival armies met in the Peninsula, which -seemed peculiarly adapted for such a struggle, bearing at opposite -and distant points two striking rocky eminences, steep and rugged, -called the Arapiles (cut out, as it were, for rival generals) on which -the left of the French and the right of the Allies were posted. -The battle of Salamanca lasted only forty minutes. It originated -in an error of Marmont’s, which Wellington seized as thus described -by Napier: “Starting up, he repaired to the high ground, and -observed their movements for some time, with a stern contentment, -for their left wing was entirely separated from the -centre. The fault was flagrant, and he fixed it with the stroke -of a thunder-bolt.” (<cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> book xviii. -chap. 3.)</p> - -<p>The battle of Vitoria was fought on the 21st June, 1813. The -weather was rainy, and a thick curtain of vapour overspread both -armies till noon. The utter rout which the French sustained was -in great part the result of a complication of enormous faults and -errors on the part of King Joseph. The basin of Vitoria, into -which he poured not only his troops, but his parks, baggage, -convoys, stores and encumbrances of every description—is unequally -divided by the winding Zadora, and nearly ten miles long -by an average breadth of eight miles. The stream which intersects -it is narrow, and the banks very steep in parts and uniformly -rugged. Here he was utterly exposed, and to the last moment -undecided even as to a line of retreat. The line of the Ebro had -been admirably turned by Wellington, and of the strength of the -country about that river the French were by most judicious movements -deprived. Their position was liable to be taken in flank,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span> -and this advantage was mercilessly seized. My emotion here -was little short of that which I experienced on the plain of -Waterloo; for though the contest here was immeasurably more -brief, the blow was struck with matchless vigour, and likewise -on a noble battle ground. The stress of the action lay about -the heights of La Puebla. This important point by which the -river was passed and the village of Subijana de Alava having -been successively carried by the allies, as well as the bridges of -Tres Puentes, Mendoza, and Arriaga, the French hotly pressed on -all sides were forced to retire on Vitoria, when the rout ensued -which was one of the most complete in history. “It was the -wreck of a nation.” (Napier, <cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> book xx. -chap. 8.) An officer who was present well expressed it thus: “The -French were beaten before the town, and in the town, and through -the town, and out of the town, and behind the town, and all round -about the town;” and Gazan, a French officer’s account was that -“they lost all their equipages, all their guns, all their treasure, all -their stores, and all their papers, so that no man could prove how -much pay was due to him.” From the total wreck even king -Joseph with difficulty escaped, a pistol-shot having been fired into -his carriage. “The trophies were innumerable,” (Napier, <em>ibid.</em>) -The spoils resembled those of an Oriental rather than an European -army; for Joseph had all his luxuries and treasures with him. -Five millions and a half of dollars were stated by the French -accounts to have been in the money-chests. Our troops had -abundant spoil, for “not one dollar,” says Napier, “came to -the public.” A profusion was found of the choicest wines and -delicacies, the baggage was rifled, and our soldiers attired themselves -in the gala dresses of the enemy. Marshal Jourdan’s -bâton was taken by the 87th regiment. “The Duke”’s despatch -is excellent.</p> - -<p>Minute details of the several battles of the Pyrenees, and of -those fought upon the soil of France up to the gates of Toulouse, -will be found in the last volume of Napier’s <cite>History</cite>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span></p> - -<p>With regard to the Lines of Torres Vedras, the testimony of -Colonel (since General) Jones, an eminent engineer officer, whose -writings are of the plainest and most practical character, and who -evidently had little imagination to incite him to enthusiasm, is as -follows:—“The lines in front of Lisbon are a triumph to the -British nation. They are without doubt the finest specimen of a -fortified position ever effected. From their peninsular situation -there is no possibility of manœuvring on the flanks, cutting off the -supplies, or getting in the rear of them: in the details of the -work there is no pedantry of science; nor long lines of fortification -for show without strength; mountains themselves are made the -prominent points; the gorges alone derive their total strength -from retrenchments. The quantity of labour bestowed on them -is incredible, but in no part has the engineer done more than his -duty; assisted nature, assisted the general, and assisted the -troops, and for each arm has procured a favourable field of -action.” (<cite>Journals of the Sieges undertaken by the Allies in -Spain</cite>, note 1.) I have frequently witnessed at Lisbon the excitement -of French military travellers about these works. Their -first rush from Lisbon is to Torres Vedras and the neighbourhood -to see them; and their admiration, although a little -bitterly, is always freely expressed. The testimony of a distinguished -French general is equally explicit:—“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ce monument -remarquable de l’industrie de nos ennemis, les lignes construites -en 1810 pour la defence de Lisbonne.</span>” (Foy, <cite lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hist. Guerre. -Pénins.</cite> liv. ii.)</p> - -<p>The modes of warfare and the structure of society have undergone -such an utter change that it appears delusive to seek any -parallel for the achievements of Wellington in the records of ancient -history. The naked fact that he had to contend against the -incomparable military genius of Napoléon, and without any exaggeration -became “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le vainqueur du vainqueur du monde</i>” attests in -the severe sobriety of History more than the most fulsome adulation. -All the great conquerors of the ancient world—Sesostris,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> -Alexander, Hannibal, Cæsar—were invaders: Wellington’s battles -were nearly all defensive of human rights and liberty. In Roman -annals he may be most fittingly compared to Scipio Africanus, the -conqueror of Hannibal—the more especially for the purity of both -their characters. In Grecian history he might be likened to -Themistocles, who also maintained a glorious defensive war, but -that the English, unlike the Greek hero, was incorruptible. His -character is a compound of the two great joint rulers of Athens—of -the military conduct of Themistocles and the inflexible justice of -Aristides. The admirable strokes of policy by which Themistocles -circumvented Xerxes might be paralleled in several parts of Wellington’s -career, who like Themistocles could lead his foes astray -as well as rout them at Salamis. There is one part of the -Athenian’s character, his venality, over which the Englishman -towers with transcendent superiority. There is another, and -curious particular, in which the comparison is likewise to his -advantage. Themistocles was unskilled in music, and therefore -by his contemporaries (who prized that art so highly) twitted with -ignorance, as Cicero informs us. (<cite lang="la" xml:lang="la">Tusc. Quest. lib.</cite> i.) Plutarch, -(<em>lib.</em> i.) and Athenæus (<em>lib.</em> xiv.) mention that those who were unskilled -in the harp were forced jocosely to sing to the accompaniment -of a branch of laurel or myrtle held in a cithara-like -form, as we sometimes now-a-days see a wag perform a tune with -poker and bellows. The ancients in their banquets were in the -habit of sending round the lyre to each of the guests in succession, -an event of which kind caused Themistocles to be found wanting, -from whence Quintilian (<em>lib.</em> i. cap. 16) takes occasion to inculcate -on his pupils the necessity of learning music. The same practice -prevailed amongst our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, at whose feasts the -harp was sent round in a precisely similar manner. (Bede, <cite>Hist. -Eccles. Anglor.</cite> iv. 24.) The Duke of Wellington’s love of music -is inherited from his accomplished father, the Earl of Mornington, -and his Directorship of the Ancient Concerts proves that he is not -more devoted to Mars than to Apollo.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span></p> - -<p>The gallantry and intelligence with which the views of Wellington -were seconded throughout the Peninsular campaigns most -amply deserve the honourable record of the following names -amongst the leaders:—(Lord) Hill, Graham (Lord Lynedoch), -Picton, Cole, Robert Crawfurd, George Murray, Cotton (Lord -Combermere), (Lord) Colborne, Hope (Lord Hopetoun), Kempt, -Pakenham, Pack, Clinton, Byng, (Lord) Beresford, Stewart (Marquis -of Londonderry), Paget (Marquis of Anglesey), Lord Fitzroy Somerset, -Lord Edward Somerset, Stopford, Catlin Crawfurd, Colville, -Leith, Barnes, Barnard, Vandeleur, Borthwick, Bowes, Harvey, -Skerrett, Myers, Spencer, Oswald, Bradford, Hamilton, Houghton, -Cadogan, Power, William Stewart, Lumley, (Lord) Saltoun, Anson, -Hulse, Erskine, Nightingale, (Lord) Vivian, Dalhousie, Le Marchant, -Walker, Fletcher, Howorth, Mackenzie, Lightfoot, Payne, -Campbell, Colin Campbell, Donkin, Langworth, Ludlow, Guise, -Dilkes, Ferguson, Ridge, Canch, D’Urban, Anstruther, Mackinnon, -Baird, Sherbrooke, Wilson, Hay, Sprye, Robinson, Inglis, Aylmer, -Howard, Talbot, Watson, Grant, Madden, Bull, Gibbs, Gough, -Hinuber, Bock, &c. And amongst the officers who greatly distinguished -themselves, to complete this Walhalla, (Lord) Hardinge, -the Napiers, Mackie, Gurwood, Smith, Grant, O’Toole, Sturgeon, -Manners, Ridge, Duncan, Campbell, Macleod, Hardyman, Shaw -(Kennedy), Lord March (Duke of Richmond), Nicholas, Lord -William Russell, Hare, Ferguson, Lake, Nugent, Hughes, Barnard, -Seymour, Ponsonby, Donnellan, Trant, Waters, Halket, Ellis, -Blakeney, Dickson, Otway, Collins, Burgoyne, Hartman, Way, -Duckworth, Inglis, Abercrombie, Hawkshawe, M’Intosh, Dyas, -Forster, Putton, M’Geechy, Hunt, M’Adam, Maguire, Gethin, Cooke, -Robertson, Rose, Patrick, Frier, Lloyd, Arentschild, M’Bean, Snodgrass, -Moore, Herries, Townsend, Maitland, Stuart, Woodford, -Sullivan, Crofton, Hervey, Wheatly, Brown, &c. Neither must I -omit mention of Graham’s glorious victory at Barosa, and Hill’s -splendid achievement at Almaraz, or of the crossing of the Douro -and expulsion of Soult from Oporto.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">I.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Bright be thy fame, illustrious Wellington!”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πῶς ἄν σ’ ἐπαινέσαιμι μὴ λίαν λόγοις,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Μήτ’ ἐνδεῶς, * *</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Αἰνούμενοι γὰρ οἱ ’γαθοὶ, τρόπον τινὰ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Μισοῦσι τοὺς αἰνοῦντας, ἐὰν αἰνῶσ’ ἄγαν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Iph. in Aul.</cite> 977.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“How shall I praise thee in words neither too many nor too -few? For the good, when they are praised, in some manner hate -those who praise them, if they praise too much.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">II.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> ——“Great Themistocles, excelling<br /> -<span class="pad6">In martial prowess all that turns to dust.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse12" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἑλέομαι</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">πὰρ μὲν Σαλαμῖνος, Ἀθηναίων χάριν,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">μισθόν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Pyth.</cite> i.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“I will embrace at Salamis the benefit conferred by Athens -upon Greece, and will magnify its great reward.” The allusion is -to the fulfilment of the ancient prophecy, that “the Attic city -would be saved by her wooden walls,” a phrase curiously reproduced -in the modern history of England. For the details of this -victory see Herodotus, <em>lib.</em> viii. Pindar, in the foregoing passage, -incidentally refers to the splendid reward which he received from -the Athenians, who gave him 2000 drachmas, being twice the -amount of the fine inflicted on him by his Theban countrymen for -celebrating the praises of the Athenians at Salamis. (Æschines, -<cite>Epist.</cite> iv.)</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">III.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The cannon fired for joy upon the morn,<br /> -<span class="pad7">That told the nation Salamanca’s skies,” &c.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>The battle of Salamanca was fought on the 22nd July, 1812. -The author was born on the 27th December in the same year. -“Salamanca will always be referred to as the most skilful of -Wellington’s battles.” (Napier, <cite>Hist. War in the Peninsula</cite>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> -book xix. chap. 7.) This splendid achievement was designated by -a French officer at the time as “the beating of forty thousand men -in forty minutes.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80"><ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'IV.'">V.</ins></span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Length of days,<br /> -<span class="pad6">And honours of a Demigod,” &c.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ὁ νικῶν δὲ λοιπὸν ἀμφὶ βίοτον</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἔχει μελιτόεσσαν εὐδίαν,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἀέθλων γ’ ἕνεκεν.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Olymp.</cite> i.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“The Conqueror for the remainder of his days enjoyeth a honeyed -security, the reward of his victories.”</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">V.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “The path of Cæsar blood and tears o’erran.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>See Ferguson’s <cite>Roman Republic</cite>, book iv. chap. 1, 2, 3, 7.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80"><ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'VI.'">VII.</ins></span><span class="pad4"> </span> “I late have stood upon thy battle-fields.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sint tibi Flaminius, Thrasymenaque litora, testes.</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Fast.</cite> vi. 765.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80"><ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'VIII., X.'">IX., XI.</ins></span><span class="pad3"> </span> For poetical allusions to the battles of Talavera and -Albuera see Byron’s <cite>Childe Harold</cite>, Canto i., and Scott’s <cite>Don -Roderick</cite>. -</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “To where Garumna’s stream to ocean runs.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pernicior unda Garumnæ,</span>” the Garonne on which Toulouse -is situated, the ‘docta Tolosa’ of Ausonius.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “‘Now, Don Salustian,’ thus great Arthur said—<br /> -<span class="pad7">‘This piteous scene doth touch my heart full sore.’”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὑψηλόφρων μοι θυμὸς αἴρεται πρόσω·</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἐπίσταται δὲ τοῖς κακοῖσί τ’ ἀσχαλᾷν,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Μετρίως τε χαίρειν τοῖσιν ἐξωγκωμένοις.</p> -<p class="verse16">Eurip. <cite>Iphig. in Aul.</cite> 919.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“My lofty mind is vehemently raised. But it knows how to -pity misfortune, and moderately to enjoy prosperity.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “O’ercast with blushes that like roses seem.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">And ever and anon with rosy red</p> -<p class="verse">The bashful blood her snowy cheeks did die,</p> -<p class="verse">And her became as polished ivorie,</p> -<p class="verse">Which cunning craftsman’s hand hath overlaid</p> -<p class="verse">With fair vermillion on pure lasterie.</p> -<p class="verse16">Spenser, <cite>Fairy Queen</cite>.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “In kisses o’er her hand his soul was cast.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Suaviolum dulci dulcius ambrosiâ.</p> -<p class="verse16">Catul. xcvi.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVI.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Greater thy glory than Pendragon’s son,” &c.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse10">What resounds</p> -<p class="verse">In fable or romance of Uther’s son</p> -<p class="verse">Begirt with British and Armoric knights.</p> -<p class="verse16">Milt. <cite>Par. Lost</cite>, i. 579.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>I have preferred the name Pendragon to Uther, as more resonant. -King Arthur’s father had both names. (Robert de Borron, -<cite>Hist.</cite>)</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “List to thy Destiny, and nerve thy arm.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nunc age ... quæ deinde sequatur Gloria ...</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Expediam dictis, et te tua fata docebo.</p> -<p class="verse16">Virg. <cite>Æn.</cite> vi.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“Cyclopian castles hewn from solid rock.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Though the penultimate in the first word is long in the Greek, -in Latin it is short:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——Vos et Cyclopia saxa, Experti.</p> -<p class="verse16">Virg. <cite>Æn.</cite> i. 205.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Through no vain boast like Xerxes.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——Tumidum super æquora Xerxem.</p> -<p class="verse16">Luc. <cite>Phars.</cite> ii. 627.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="p1 poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Suppositumque rotis solidum mare ...</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ille tamen qualis rediit Salamine relictâ,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ipsum compedibus qui vinxerat Ennosigæum?</p> -<p class="verse16">Juvenal. <cite>Sat.</cite> x. 176.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “She said, and pointing to the fields of France.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Così dicendo ...</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">... tremò l’aria riverente, e i campi</p> -<p class="verse" lang="it" xml:lang="it">Dell’ Oceano, e i monti, e i ciechi abissi.</p> -<p class="verse16">Tasso, <cite>Gerus. Lib.</cite> xiii. 74.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“And Heaven for long renown hath spared his hero soul.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Εὖ δὲ παθεῖν, τὸ πρῶτον ἀέθλων·</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">εὖ δ’ ἀκούειν, δευτέρα μοῖ-</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ρ’. Ἀμφοτέροισι δ’ ἀνὴρ</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ὃς ἂν ἐγκύρσῃ, καὶ ἕλῃ,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">στέφανον ὕψιστον δέδεκται.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Pyth.</cite> i.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“To use good fortune is the first of gifts, and to hear men’s -praise is the second felicity; but to whatever man both these have -fallen, he hath received the highest crown!” While Pindar was -eulogizing the Syracusan Hiero, one might think that he was -describing Wellington.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVI.</span><span class="pad8"> </span> ——“Ne’er by land or main<br /> -<span class="pad6">Shall War’s barbarian triumphs wake thy pride.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ipsum nos carmen deducit Pacis ad aram.</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pax ades; et toto mitis in orbe mane.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Dum desunt hostes, desit quoque causa triumphi.</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Tu ducibus bello gloria major eris!</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sola gerat miles, quibus arma coërceat, arma;</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Canteturque ferâ, nil nisi pompa, tubâ.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Horreat Æneadas et primus et ultimus orbis:</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Si qua parum Romam terra timebit, amet.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Utque domus, quæ præstat eam, cum Pace perennet,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ad pia propensos vota rogate Deos!</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Fast.</cite> i. 709.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2 pad2 noindent"> -“But Peace with olive branch o’ershadowing bide,<br /> -And mark the Godhead in thy empire wide.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Φιλόφρον Ἡσυχία, Δίκας</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ὦ μεγιστόπολι</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">θύγατερ, βουλᾶν τε καὶ πολέμων</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἔχοισα κλαῗδας</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ὑπερτάτας.</p> -<p class="verse16">Pind. <cite>Pyth.</cite> viii.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Oh bland Tranquillity, thou city-exalting daughter of Justice, -holding the keys supreme of councils and of wars!”</p> - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Nor let thy Fecial seers too nice refine.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>To the college of Feciales was intrusted in ancient Rome the -preparation of treaties.</p> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXVIII.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Strong be thy armament, as fits thy strength<br /> -<span class="pad9">Of mandate—powerful thy Lernæan clave.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Quis facta Herculeæ non audit fortia clavæ?</p> -<p class="verse16">Propert. l. iv. Eleg. 10.</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“When thy artillery’s roar is heard o’er Ocean’s plain.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse">While o’er the encircling deep Britannia’s thunder roars.</p> -<p class="verse16">Thomson, <cite>Castle of Indolence</cite>, Canto ii.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XXXIX.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “And lording o’er thy empire of the Deep.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>Our dominion of the sea seems to be in some degree indicated -by this line of Ovid, from his splendid panegyric on Julius Cæsar:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Scilicet æquoreos plus est domuisse Britannos!</p> -<p class="verse16"><cite>Met.</cite> xv. 752.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLIV.</span><span class="pad10"> </span> ——“Resistless spread<br /> -<span class="pad7">Through boundless Asia, forced to bear thy arms.”</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse4" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——Super et Garamantas et Indos</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Proferet imperium * * *</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nec vero Alcides tantum telluris obivit;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nec qui pampineis victor juga flectit habenis,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Liber, agens celso Nisæ de vertice tigres * *</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Tu regere imperio populos, &c.</p> -<p class="verse16">Virg. <cite>Æn.</cite> vi.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>It is the glory of England to be able to claim the excellence in -which Virgil admitted that the Romans were surpassed:</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Excudent alii spirantia mollius æra,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Credo equidem; vivos ducent de marmore vultus;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Orabunt causas melius, cœlique meatus</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Describent radio et surgentia sidera dicent.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>In all these arts which Virgil excepts, it is our fortune to shine -pre-eminent. Our bar is unquestionably the first in the world; -our astronomers and scientific men are the first; our workers in -the metals and engravers are the best; and our sculptors are not -excelled.</p> - -<p class="p2 pad2"> -“<span class="smcap">Victoria</span> blesses with her hand—not harms.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse6" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——Victoria læta.</p> -<p class="verse16">Hor. <cite>Sat.</cite> i. 1.</p> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">——prima viam Victoria pandit!</p> -<p class="verse16">Virg. <cite>Æn.</cite> xii.</p> -</div></div> - - -<p class="p2"> -<span class="fs80">XLV.</span><span class="pad4"> </span> “Your bosoms, boundless wealth and luxury, tame.”<br /> -</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">At postquàm Fortuna loci caput extulit hujus,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Et tetigit summos vertice Roma Deos;</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Creverunt et opes, et opum furiosa cupido;</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Et, cùm possideant plurima, plura volunt.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Quærere ut absumant, absumpta requirere, certant;</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Atque ipsæ vitiis sunt alimenta vices.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sic, quibus intumuit suffusâ venter ab undâ,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Quo plus sunt potæ, plus sitiuntur aquæ.</p> -<p class="verse" lang="la" xml:lang="la">In pretio pretium nunc est: dat census honores,</p> -<p class="verse2" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Census amicitias; pauper ubique jacet!</p> -<p class="verse16">Ovid. <cite>Fast.</cite> i. 209.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>I shall conclude with the passage with which Euripides ends -his <cite>Iphigenia in Tauris</cite>:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-containerxx"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὦ μέγα σεμνὴ Νίκη, τὸν ἐμὸν</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Βίοτον κατέχοις,</p> -<p class="verse" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Καὶ μὴ λήγοις στεφανοῦσα.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“Oh great and august <span class="smcap">Victoria</span>, hold my life, nor fail to -crown it with thy smile!”</p> - -</div> - - -<p class="p6" /> -<hr class="r60a" /> - -<p class="pfs80">William Stevens, Printer, Bell Yard, Temple Bar.<br /></p> - - -<p class="p4" /> -<div class="footnotes pg-brk"><h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Napier begins his account thus: “<span class="smcap">Renewed Siege of San -Sebastian</span>.—Villatte’s demonstration against Longa on the 28th of -July had caused the ships laden with the battering-trains to put to -sea, but on the 5th of August the guns were re-landed and the -works against the fortress resumed,” &c.—<cite>Hist. War in the Penins.</cite> -book xxii. chap. 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Part. This purely Saxon word (modern German, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">theil</i>) is now -written by us <em>deal</em>. “A great deal” means “a great part.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Ambling like an Andalucian barb.</p></div> -</div> - - -<div class="transnote pg-brk"> -<a name="TN" id="TN"></a> -<p><strong>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</strong></p> - -<p>The ‘Table of Contents’ has been created and inserted before the -Preface by the Transcriber.</p> - -<p>Omitted text in quotations was indicated by ‘ * * ’ in the original -book, sometimes ‘ * * * ’, and this has been retained in the etext.</p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been -corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within -the text and consultation of external sources.</p> - -<p>Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, -and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.</p> - -<p> -<a href="#Page_15">Pg 15</a>, ‘Athenian narrater’ replaced by ‘Athenian narrator’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_62">Pg 62</a>, ‘recals the main’ replaced by ‘recalls the main’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_65">Pg 65</a>, Stanza number ‘XI.’ replaced by ‘XII.’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_123">Pg 123</a>, ‘Hom. _Od._ xi. 592’ replaced by ‘Hom. _Od._ xi. 598’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_126">Pg 126</a>, ‘Porphyrio’ replaced by ‘Porphyrion’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_168">Pg 168</a>, Stanza number ‘II.’ replaced by ‘III.’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_194">Pg 194</a>, ‘Thy statues’ replaced by ‘Of statues’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_255">Pg 255</a>, Stanza number ‘XI.’ replaced by ‘VII.’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_257">Pg 257</a>, Stanza number ‘XXIII.’ replaced by ‘XLIII.’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_282">Pg 282</a>, Stanza number ‘XLVII.’ inserted before “Even the dread ...”.<br /> -<a href="#Page_358">Pg 358</a>, Stanza number ‘IV.’ replaced by ‘V.’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_358">Pg 358</a>, Stanza number ‘VI.’ replaced by ‘VII.’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_358">Pg 358</a>, All subsequent stanza numbers in the Notes for this Canto were - off by one, (so ‘VIII’ has been replaced by ‘IX’, etc.) -</p> - -<p> -<a href="#Page_31">Pg 31</a>, παραίφαμενος replaced by παραιφάμενος.<br /> -<a href="#Page_88">Pg 88</a>, δέ μισῶ replaced by δὲ μισῶ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_90">Pg 90</a>, της ἀκμῆς replaced by τῆς ἀκμῆς.<br /> -<a href="#Page_125">Pg 125</a>, Ὤ λῆμ replaced by Ὦ λῆμ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_125">Pg 125</a>, τοις φίλοις replaced by τοῖς φίλοις.<br /> -<a href="#Page_126">Pg 126</a>, Βία δέ replaced by Βία δὲ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_126">Pg 126</a>, Τυφώς Κίλιξ replaced by Τυφὼς Κίλιξ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_126">Pg 126</a>, Διμᾶθεν δέ replaced by Δμᾶθεν δὲ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_170">Pg 170</a>, Σθένελός τέ replaced by Σθένελός τε.<br /> -<a href="#Page_194">Pg 194</a>, μηκἐθ’ ἁλίου replaced by μηκέθ’ ἁλίου.<br /> -<a href="#Page_194">Pg 194</a>, δὲ παξας replaced by δὲ πάξας.<br /> -<a href="#Page_226">Pg 226</a>, Ὀμως δὲ replaced by Ὅμως δὲ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_226">Pg 226</a>, Ἐλῶσι γὰρ replaced by Ἐλῶσι γάρ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_254">Pg 254</a>, σπερμ’ Ἀχιλλέως replaced by σπέρμ’ Ἀχιλλέως.<br /> -<a href="#Page_254">Pg 254</a>, Πατρῷ’ ἑλέσθαί replaced by Πατρῷ’ ἑλέσθαι.<br /> -<a href="#Page_255">Pg 255</a>, νῷν ἀπέχθὴς replaced by νῷν ἀπεχθὴς.<br /> -<a href="#Page_255">Pg 255</a>, γῦνὴ γὰρ replaced by γυνὴ γὰρ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_256">Pg 256</a>, Ἐφυμεν, ὡς replaced by Ἔφυμεν, ὡς.<br /> -<a href="#Page_256">Pg 256</a>, εἰ δοκεἶ replaced by εἰ δοκεῖ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_256">Pg 256</a>, ἀτίμασας’ ἔχε replaced by ἀτιμάσασ’ ἔχε.<br /> -<a href="#Page_256">Pg 256</a>, Δαϊζων ἵππους replaced by Δαΐζων ἵππους.<br /> -<a href="#Page_257">Pg 257</a>, ἔπος, ὁυτέ replaced by ἔπος, οὗτέ.<br /> -<a href="#Page_257">Pg 257</a>, σὴν χὲῤ replaced by σὴν χὲρ’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_281">Pg 281</a>, φοινίου σαλου replaced by φοινίου σάλου.<br /> -<a href="#Page_357">Pg 357</a>, ἐὰν αἰνῶς’ replaced by ἐὰν αἰνῶσ’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_357">Pg 357</a>, μισθον replaced by μισθόν.<br /> -<a href="#Page_360">Pg 360</a>, Αμφοτέροισι replaced by Ἀμφοτέροισι.<br /> -<a href="#Page_361">Pg 361</a>, ἔχοισα κλαῖδας replaced by ἔχοισα κλαῗδας.<br /> -</p> -</div> - 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