T. M. Hughes

“ 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. ”

“ 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.
[104]
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. ”

“ 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! ”

“ 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.
[164]
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! ”

“ 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 ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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! ”

“ 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! ”

“ 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! ”

“ 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.
[328]
III.
Shall I not sing thy triumph? ”

“ Their course the stormers urge,
And o’er the Hero’s corse go sweeping like a surge!
[159]
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. ”

“ 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! ”

“ 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. ”

“ Ne’er be shorn of either gem
Britain’s noble diadem.
Shamrock, rose, and thistle’s stem
Ne’er let men divide!
[176]
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. ”

“ 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? ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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! ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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.
[267]
XXIV.
Louder and louder grows the tempest’s voice. ”

“ 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 ”

“ 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 [253] beyond the frontier, and defeated them on the Spanish soil in battle, action, and assault, from Salamanca to Vitoria, from Vitoria to the Pyrenees. ”

“ And though the day of Carlos’ bridal’s nigh,
In hopeless passion’s thrall that monk will changeless die.
[206]
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! ”

“ 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 [347] 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.” ”

“ 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 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 ”

“ 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. ”