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XII. Three hundred cannon threw


their emetic, And thirty thousand muskets fluug their pills Like hail, to make a bloody diuretic.

Mortality! thou hast thy inonthly bills;
Thy plagues, thy famines, thy physicians, yet tick,

Like the death-watch, within our cars the ills
Past, present, and to come;- but all may yield
To the true portrait of one battlefield.

There the still varying pangs, which multiply

Until their very number makes men hard
By the infinities of agony,

Which meet the faze, whate'er it may regardThe groan, the roll in dust, the all-white eye

Turnd back within its socket, -these reward
Your rank and file by thousands, while the rest
May win, perhaps, a riband at the breast!

Yet I love glory; glory 's a great thing;
Think what it is to be in your


age Maintain'd at the expense of your good king:

A moderate pension shakes full many a sage, And heroes are but made for bards to sing,

Which is still better ; thus in verse to wage
Your wars eternally, besides enjoying
Half-pay for life, make mankind worth destroying.

The troops already disembark'd push'd on

To take a battery on the right; the others,
Who landed lower down, their landing done,

Had set to work as briskly as their brothers: Being grenadiers, they mounted, one by one,

Cheerful as children climb the breasts of mothers,
O'er the entrenchment and the palisade,
Quite orderly, as if upon parade.

And this was admirable; for so hot

The fire that were red Vesuvius loaded,
Besides its lava, with all sorts of shot

And shells or hells, it could not more have goaded. Of officers a third fell on the spot,

A thing wbich victory by no means boded
To gentlemen engaged in the assault:
Hlounds, when the huntsman tumbles, are at fault.

But here I leave the general concern,

To track our hero on his patlı of fame:
He must his laurels separately earn;

For fifty thousand heroes, name by name,
Though all deserving equally to turn

A couplet, or an elegy to claim,
Would form a lengthy lexicon of glory,
And, what is worse still, a much longer story:

And therefore we must give the greater number

To the gazette-- which doubtless fairly dealı
By the deceased, who lie in famous slumber

In ditches, fields, or wberesoe'er they felt Their clay for the last time their souls encumber ;

Thrice happy he whose name lias been well spelt In the dispateli; I knew a man whose loss Was printed Grove, although bis name was Grose, 3

Juan and Johnson join'd a certain corps,

And fought away with might and main, not knowiog The way which they had never trod before,

And still less guessing where they might be going; But on they march'd, dead bodies trampling o'er,

Firing, and thrusting, slashing, sweating, flowing
But fighting thoughtlessly enough to win,
To their two selves, one whole bright bulletin.

Thus on they wallow'd in the bloody mire

Of dead and dying thousands, --sometimes gaining A yard or two of ground, which brought them nigber

To some odd angle for which all were straining; At other times, repulsed by the close fire,

Which really pour'd as if all hell were raining,
Instead of heaven, they stumbled backwards o'er
A wounded comrade, sprawling in his gore.

Though 't was Don Juan's first of fields, and though

The nightly muster and the silent march
In the chill dark, when courage does not glow

So much as under a triumphal arch,
Perhaps might make him shiver, yawn, or throw

A glance on the dull clouds (as thick as starch,
Which stiffen'd heaven) as if he wish'd for day-
Yet for all this he did not run away.

Indeed he could not. But what if he had

There have been and are heroes who begun
With something not much better, or as bad:

Frederick the Great from Molwitz deigo'd to run, For the first and last time; for, like a pad,

Or hawk, or bride, most mortals, after one
Warm bout, are broken into their new tricks,
And fight like siends for pay or politics.

He was what Erin calls, in her sublime

Old Erse or Irish, or it may be Punic (The antiquarians who can settle time,

Which settles all things, Roman, Greek, or Ropic, Swear that Pat's language sprung from the same clime

With Hannibal, and wears the Tyrian tunie
Of Dido's alphabet; and this is rational
As any other notion, and not national);—4

But Juan was quite « a broth of a boy,»

A thing of impulse and a child of song:
Now swimming in the sentiment of joy,

Or the sensation (if that phrase seemn wrong), And afterwards, if he must needs destroy.

In sucli good company as always throng
To baudes, sieges, and that kind of pleasure,
No less delighted to employ bis leisure;

But always without malice. If he warr'd

Or loved, it was with what we call « the best Intentions,» which form all mankind's trump-ard.

To be produced when brought up to the test. The statesman, hero, harlot, lawyer--ward

Off each attack when people are in quest Of their designs, by saying they meant well; 'Tis pity that such meanings should pave hell.com


I almost lately have begun to doubt

Whether hell's pavement--if it be so paved-
Must not have latterly been quite worn out,

Not by the numbers good intent hath saved, But by the mass who go below without

Those ancient good intentions, which once shaved And smooth'd the brimstone of that street of hell Which bears the greatest likeness to Pall Mall.

Juan, by some strange chance, which oft divides

Warrior from warrior in their grim career,
Like chastest wives from constant busbands' sides,

Just at the close of the tirst bridal year,
By one of those odd turns of fortune's tides,

Was on a sudden rather puzzled bere,
When, after a good deal of heavy firing,
lle found himself alone, and friends retiring.

I don't know how the thing occurrd-it might

Be that the greater part were kill'd or wounded,
And that the rest had faced unto the right

About; a circumstance which has confounded
Cæsar himself, who, in the very sight

Of his whole army, which so much abounded
In courage, was obliged to snatch a shield
And rally back his Romans to the field.

Juan, who had no shield to snatch, and was

No Cæsar, but a fine young lad, who fought
He knew not why, arriving at this pass,

Stopp'd for a minute, as perhaps he ought For a much longer time; then, like an ass

(Start not, kind reader; since great Homer thought This simile enough for Ajax, Juan Perhaps may find it better than a new one),

Then, like an ass, he went upon his way,

And, what was stranger, never look d behind;
But seeing, flashing forward, like the day

Over the hills, a fire enough to blind
Those who dislike to look upon a fray,

He stumbled on, to try if he could find
A path to add his own slight arm and forces
To corps, the greater part of which were corses.

Perceiving then no more the commandant

Of bis own corps, nor even the corps, which had
Quite disappeard-the gods know how! (I can't

Account for every thing which may look bad
In history; but we at least may grant

It was not marvellous that a mere lad,
In search of glory, should look on before,
Nor care a pinch of snuff about his corps :)

Perceiving nor commander nor commanded,

And left at large, like a young heir, to make
His way to-where he knew not-single-handed;

As travellers follow over bog and brake An « igois fatuus,» or as sailors stranded

Unto the nearest but themselves betake, So Juan, following honour and his nose, Rush'd where the thickest fire announced most foes.

He knew not where he was, por greatly cared,

For he was dizzy, busy, and his veins
Fill'd as with lightning-for his spirit shared

The hour, as is the case with lively brains;
And, where the hottest fire was seen and heard,

And the loud cannon peal'd his hoarsest strains,
He rushi'd, while earth and air were sadly shaken
By thy humane discovery, friar Bacon! 6

And, as he rush'd along, it came to pass he

Fell in with what was late the second column,
Under the orders of the general Lascy,

But now reduced, as is a bulky volume, Into an elegant extract ( much less massy)

Of heroism, and took his place with solemn
Air, 'midst the rest, who kept their valiant faces,
And levelld weapons, still against the glacis.

Just at this crisis up came Johnson too,

Who had a retreated,» as the phrase is when
Men run away much rather than go through

Destruction's jaws into the devil's den;
But Johnson was a clever fellow, who

Knew when and how « to cut and come again,
And never ran away, except when running
Was nothing but a valorous kind of cunning.

And so, when all his corps were dead or dying,

Except Don Juan-a mere novice, whose
More virgin valour never dream'd of flying,

From ignorance of danger, which indues Its votaries, like innocence relying

On its own strength, with careless nerves and thews,-
Johnson retired a little, just to rally
Those who catch cold in «shadows of death's valley.»

And there, a little shelter'd from the shot,

Which rain d from bastion, battery, para pet,
Rampart, wall, casement, house for there was not

In this extensive city, sore beset By christian soldiery, a single spot

Which did not combat like the devil as yet, He found a number of chasseurs, all scatter'd By the resistance of the chase they batter'd.

And these he call'd on; and, what's strange, they came

Unto his call, unlike « the spirits from
The vasty deep,» to whom you may exclaim,

Says Hotspur, long ere they will leave their home. Their reasons were uncertainty, or shame

At shrinking from a bullet or a bomb,
And that odd impulse, which in wars or creeds,
men, like cattle, follow him who leads.

By Jove! he was a noble fellow, Johnson,

And though his name than Ajax or Achilles
Sounds less harmonious, underneath the sun soon

We shall not see his likeness: he could kill his Man quite as quietly as blows the monsoon

Her steady breath (which some months the same still is); Seldom he varied feature, hue, or muscle, And could be very busy without bustle.

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XLVII. And therefore, when he ran away, he did so

So that on cither side some nine or ten Upon rellection, knowing that behind

Paces were left, whereon you could contrive He would find others who would fain be rid so

To march; a great convenience to our men, Of idle apprehensions, which, like wind,

At least to all those who were left alive, Trouble heroic stomachs. Though their lids so Who thus could form a line and fight agaio ; Oft are soon closed, alleroes are not blind,

And that which further aided them to strive But when they light upon immediate death,

Was, that they could kick down the palisades, Retire a little, merely to take breath.

Whicla scarcely rose much higher than grass blades i XLI.

XLVIII. But Johnson only ran off to return

Imong the first, I will not say the first, With many other warriors, as we said,

For such precedence upon such occasions Unto that rather some what misty bourn,

Will oftentimes make deadly quarrels burst
Which Hamlet tells us is a pass of dread.

Out between friends as well as allied nations,
To Jack, howe'er, this gave but slight concera: The Briton must be bold who really durst
His soul (like galvanism upon the dead)

Put to such trial John Bull's partial patience,
Acted upon the living as on wire,

As say that Wellington at Waterloo And led them back into the heaviest fire.

Was beaten,-though the Prussians say so 100; -—XLII.

XLIX. Egad! they found the second time what they

And that if Blucher, Bulow, Gneisenau, The first time thought quite terrible enough

And God koows who besides in u aur and « ou,» To tly from, malire all woich people say

Had not come up in time to cast an awe Of glory, and all that immortal stuff

Into the hearts of those who fought will now Which fills a regiment (besides their pay,

As tigers combat with an emply craw, That daily shilling which makes warriors tough) — The Duke of Wellington had ceased to show They found on their return the self same welcome, llis orders, also to receive his pensions, Which made some think, and others hnow, a hell come. Which are the heaviest that our history mentions, XLIII.

L. They fell as thick as harvests beneath hail,

But never mind;-«God save the king !» and kings' Grass before scythes, or corn below the sickle,

For if he don't, I doubt if men will longer.Proving that trile old truth, that life's as frail

I think I hear a little bird, who sings, As any other boon for which men stickle.

The people by and by will be the stronger: The Turkisha batteries thrashid thein like a fail,

The veriest jade will wince whose harness wrings Or a good boxer, into a sad pickle

So much into the raw as quite to wrong lier Putting the very bravest, who were knock'd

Beyond the rules of posting, -and the mob
Upon the head before their guns were cocku.

Acast fall sick of imitating Job.

The Turks, behind the traverses and flanks

At first it grumbles, then it swears, and then, Of the next bastion, fired away

like devils,

Like David, flings smooth pebbles 'gainst a giant; And swept, as cales sweep foam away, whole ranks: 10 last it takes to weapons, such as men llowever, Heaven knows how, the Fate who levels

Snatch when despair makes human hearts less pluaat Towns, nations, worlds, in her revolving pranks, Then « comes the tug of war;»- i will come again, So order'd in, amidst these sulphury revels,

I rather doubt; and I would fain say u fie on 'L»
That Johnson, and some few who had not scamperd, If I had not perceived that revolution
Reachid the interior talus of the rampart.

Alone can save the earth from hells pollution.

LII. first one or two, then five, six, and a dozen,

But to continue:-I say not the first, Came mounting quickly up, for it was now

But of the first, our little friend Don Juan All neck or nothing, as, like pitch or rosin,

Walkd o'er the walls of Ismail, as if nursed Flame was showerd forth above as well's below, Ainidst such scenes- - Though this was quite a new 026 So that you scarce could say who best had chosen,- To him, and I should hope to most. The thirst The gentlemen that were the first to show

Of glory, which so pierces through and through ope, Their martial faces on the parapet,

Pervaded him-although a generous creature,
Or those who thought it brave to wait as yet.

As warm in heart as feminine in feature.

But those who scaled fouud out that their advance And here he was-who, upon woman's breast,
Was favour'd by an accident or blunder:

Even from a child, felt like a child; boveer
The Greek or Turkish Colorn's ignorance

The man in all the rest might be confess'd; Hail palisado'd in a way you 'd wonder

To him it was Elysium to be there; To see in fords of Netherlands or France

And he could even withstand that awkward test ( Though these to our Gibraltar must knock under)- Which Rousseau points out to the dubious fair, Right in the middle of the parapel,

« Observe your lover when he leaves your arms; Just pamed, these palisades were primly set:

But Juan never left them while they a charms,


LXI. L'nless compelld by fate, or wave, or wind,

Of all men, saving Sylla the man-slayer,
Or near relations, who are much the same.


for in life and death most lucky, But here he was ! - where each tie that can bind Of the great names which in our faces stare, Humanity must yield to steel and flame :

The General Boon, back-woodsman of Kentucky, And he, whose very body was all mind,

Was happiest amongst mortals any where;
Flung here by fate or circumstance, which tame For killing nothing but a bear or buck, he
The loftiest,- hurried by the time and place, -- Enjoy'd the lonely, vigorous, harmless days,
Dash'd on like a spurr'd blood-horse in a race. Of his old age in wilds of deepest maze.

So was his blood stirrd while he found resistance, Crime came not near him-she is not the child
As is the hunter's at the five-bar gate,

Of solitude; health slırank not from him-for
Or double post and rail, where the existence

Her home is in the rarely-trodden wild, Of Britain's youth depends upon their weight,

Where if men seek her not, and death be more The lightest being the safest: at a distance

Their choice than life, forgive them, as beguiled He hated cruelty, as all men hate

By habit to what their own hearts abhorBlood, until heated-and even there his own

In cities caged. The present case in point I
Al limes would curdle o'er some beavy groan.

Cite is, that Boon lived hunting up to ninety;

The General Lascy, who had been hard pressid, And what's still stranger, left behind a uame-
Seeing arrive an aid so opportune

For which men vainly decimate the throng,--
As were some hundred youngsters all abreast,

Not only famous, but of that good fame
Who came as if just dropp'd down from the moon, Without which glory's but a tavern song,
To Juan, who was nearest liim, address d

Simple, serene, the antipodes of shame,
His thanks, and hopes to take the city soon,

Which hate nor envy e'er could tinge with wrong; Not reckoning him to be a « base Bezonian »

An active hermit, even in age the child (As Pistol calls it), but a young Livonian.

Of nature, or the Man of Ross run wild.

Juan, to whom he spoke in German, knew

'T is true he shrank from men even of his nation, As much of German as of Sanscrit, and

When they built up unto his darling trees, In answer made an inclination to

He moved some hundred miles off, for a station The general who held him in command;

Where there were fewer houses and more easeFor, seeing one with riband, black and blue,

The inconvenience of civilization Stars, medals, and a bloody sword in hand,

Is, that you neither can be pleased nor please ;-
Addressing him in tones which seem'd to thank, But, where he met the individual man,
He recognized an officer of rank.

He show'd himself as kind as mortal can.

Short speeches pass between two men who speak He was not all alone: around him grew
No common language; and besides, in time

A sylvan tribe of children of the chase,
Of war and taking towns, when many a shriek Whose young, unwaken'd world was ever new,
Rings o'er the dialogue, and many a crime

For sword nor sorrow yet had left a trace
Is perpetrated ere a word can break

On ber un wrinkled brow, nor could you view
Upon the ear, and sounds of horror chime

A frown on nature's or on human face; —
Jo, like church-bells, with sigh, howl, groan, yell, prayer, The free-born forest found and kept them free,
There cannot be mucha conversation there.

And fresh as is a torrent or a tree.

And therefore all we have related in

And tall and strong and swift of foot were they, Two loog octaves, pass'd in a little minute;

Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions, But in the same small minute, every sin

Because their thoughts had never been the prey Contrived to get itself comprised within it.

Of care or gain: the green woods were their portions; The very cannon, deafen'd by the din,

No sinking spirits told them they grew grey; Grew dumb, for you might almost hear a linnet, No fashion made them apes of her distortions ; As soon as thunder, 'midst the general noise

Simple they were, not savage; and their rilles,
Of human nature's agonizing voice!

Though very true, were not yet used for triiles.

The town was enter'd. Oh eternity !--

Motion was in their days, rest in their slumbers, a God made the country, and man made the town,» And cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil; So Cowper says-and I begin to be

Nor yet too many uor 100 few their numbers; Of his opinion, when I see cast down

Corruption could not make their hearts her soil: Rome, Babylon, Tyre, Carthage, Nineveh-

The lust whichi stings, the splendour which encumbers All walls men know, and many never known; With the free foresters divide no spoil; And, pondering on the present and the past,

Serene, not sullen, were the solitudes To deem the woods shall be our home at last.

Of this unsighing people of the woods.


LXXV. So much for nature:- - by way of variety,

Their column, though the Turkish balleries thunder'd Now back to thy great joys, civilization!

Upon them, ne'ertheless bad reach d the rampari, And the sweet consequence of large society,- And naturally thought they could have plunderd War, pestilence, the despot's desolation,

The city, without being further hamnperd; Thic kingly scourge, the lust of notoriety,

But, as it happens to brave men, they blunderdThe millions slain by soldiers for their ration,

The Turks at first pretended to have scamper d The scenes like Catharine's boudoir at three-score, Only to draw them iwixt (wo bastion corners, With Ismail's storin to soften il the more.

From whence they sallied on those Christian scorners. LXIX.

LXXVI. The town was enter'd : first one column made

Then being taken by the tail-a taking Its sanguinary way good-thien another;

Fatal to bishops as to soldiers-these
The recking bayonet and the flashing blade

Cossacks were all cut off as day was breaking,
Claslıd 'gainst the scimitar, and babe and mother And found their lives were let at a short lease-
With distant shrieks were heard heaven to upbraid;- But perishid without shivering or shaking,
Still closer sulphury clouds began to smother

Leaving as ladılers their heap'd carcasses,
The breath of morn and man, where, foot by foot, O'er which Lieutenant-Colonei Yesouskoi
The madden'd Turks their city still dispute.

March'd with the brave battalion of Polouzki :-

LXXVII. koulousow, be who afterwards beat back

This valiant man kill'd all the Turks he met, (With some assistance from the frost and snow) But could not eat them, being in his turn Napoleon on his bold and bloody track,

Slain by some Mussulmans, who would pol yei, It happen'd was liimself beat back just now.

Without resistance, see their city burn. lle was a jolly fellow, and could crack

The walls were won, but I was an even bet llis jest alike in face of friend or foe,

Which of the armies would have cause to moura : Though life, and death, and victory were at stake- "T was blow for blow, disputing inch by inch, But liere it seern'd his jokes had ceased to take. For one would not retreat, nor t' other thinch. LXXI.

LXXVIII. For, having thrown himself into a ditch,

Another column also suffer d much: Follow'd in haste by various grenadiers,

And here we may remark with the historian, Whose blood the puddle greatly did enrich,

You should but give few cartridges to such He climb'd to where the parapet appears;

Troops as are meant to march with greatest glory on: But there his project reach'd its utmost pitch

When matters must be carried by the touch ('Mongst other deatlıs the General Ribaupierre's Of the bright bayonet, and they all should hurry on, Was much regretted)--for the Moslem men

They sometimes, with a hapkering for existence,
Threw them all down into the ditch again:

Keep mcrely firing at a foolish distance,

And, had it not been for some stray troops, landing A junction of the General Meknop's men

They knew not where, - being carried by the stream (Without the General, who had fallen some time
To some spot, where they lost their understanding, Before, being badly seconded just then)
And wander'd up and down as in a dream,

Was made at length, with those who dared, to climb
Until they reached as day-break w.15 expanding, The death-disgorging rampart once again;
That which a portal to their eyes


And, though the Turk's resistance was sublime, The great and gay Koutousow might have lain

They took the bastion, which the Seraskier
Where three parts of his column yet remain.

Defended at a price extremely dear.

And, scrambling round the rampart, these same troops, Juan and Johnson, and some volunteers,
After the taking of the « cavalier,»

Among the foremost, offer'd him good quarter,
Just as Koutousow's most« forloru» of « hopes »

word which little suits with Seraskiers, Took, like cameleons, some slight tinge of fear, Or at least suited not this valiant Tartar. Opend the ynte callid « kilia» to the groups

lle died, deserving well his country's tears, Of baftled heroes who stood shyly dear,

A savage sort of military martyr. Sliding kuce-deep in lately-frozen mud,

la Englisla naval oflicer, who wishid Now shawd into a marslı of human blood.

To make himn prisoner, was also dish d.

The Cozaks, or if so you please, Cossacks-

For all the answer to his proposition (I dou't mucli pique myself upon orthography, Was from a pistol-shot that laid him dead ; So that I do not grossly err in facis,

On which the rest, without more intermission, Statistics, tactics, politics, and geography)

Began to lay about willı steel and lead, Having been used to serve on horses' backs,

The pious metals most in requisition Aud no great dilettanti in topography

Ou suchi occasious: not a single head Of fortresses, but fighting where it pleases

Was spared, --iliree thousaud Moslems perish'd here. Their chiefs 10 order,-- were all cut to pieces.

And sixteen bayoucis pierced the Seraskier.

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