(This metaphor. I think, holds good as aught, L. But so it was; and every preparation Was also in three columns, with a thirst For glory, gaping o'er a sea of slaughter: The third, in columns two, attack'd by water. LI. New batteries were erected, and was held Glory began to dawn with due sublimity, LII. It is an actual fact, that he, commander In-chief, in proper person deign'd to drill To swallow flame, and never take it ill: LIII. Also he dress'd up, for the nonce, fascines Like men, with turbans, scimitars, and dirks, And made them charge with bayonet these machines, By way of lesson against actual Turks. And when well practised in these mimic scenes, He judged them proper to assail the works; At which your wise men sneer'd in phrases witty: He made no answer, but he took the city. LIV. Most things were in this posture on the eve That all is settled: there was little din, For some were thinking of their home and friends, And others of themselves and latter ends. L.V. Suwarrow chiefly was on the alert, Surveying, drilling, ordering, jesting, pondering: For the man was, we safely may assert, A thing to wonder at beyond most wondering: Hero, buffoon, half-demon, and half-dirt, Praying, instructing, desolating, plundering; Now Mars, now Momus; and when bent to storm A fortress, harlequin in uniform. Fact; Suwarrow did this in person. LVI. The day before the assault, while upon drill- LVII. Whereon immediately, at his request, They brought him and his comrades to headquarters; Their dress was Moslem, but you might have guess'd LVIII. Suwarrow, who was standing in his shirt, Before a company of Calmucks, drilling, Exclaiming, fooling, swearing at the inert, And lecturing on the noble art of killingFor, deeming human clay but common dirt, This great philosopher was thus instilling His maxims, which, to martial comprehension, Proved death in battle equal to a pension, LIX. Suwarrow, when he saw this company Of Cossacques and their prey, turn'd round, and cast Upon them his slow brow and piercing eye :'Whence come ye?'-' From Constantinople last; Captives just now escaped,' was the reply. What are ye? What you see us. Briefly This dialogue; for he who answer'd, knew 'Your names?- Mine's Johnson, and my com rade's Juan; The other two are women; and the third Is neither man nor woman.' The chief threw on The party a slight glance, and said, I have heard Your name before, the second is a new one: To bring the other three here was absurd. But let that pass: I think I've heard your name In the Nikolaiew regiment?'-' The same.' LXI. 'You served at Widdin ?-'Yes.'-' You led the attack?' 'I did.'-'What next?'-' I really hardly know.''You were the first i' the breach ?'-'I was not slack At least to follow those who might be so." What follow'd?- A shot laid me on my back, And I became a prisoner to the foe.' 'You shall have vengeance! for the town surrounded Is twice as strong as that where you were wounded. LXII. Where will you serve?'-'Where'er you please.' -'I know You like to be the hope of the forlorn, He with the beardless chin and garments torn?' 'Why, general, if he hath no greater fault In war than love, he had better lead the assault,' LXIII. 'He shall, if that he dare.' Here Juan bow'd Low, as the compliment deserved. Suwarrow Continued: 'Your old regiment's allow'd, By special providence, to lead to-morrow, Or it may be to-night, the assault: I have vow'd To several saints, that shortly plough or harrow Shall pass o'er what was Ismail, and its tusk Be unimpeded by the proudest mosque. LXIV. 'So now, my lads, for glory! Here he turn'd And drill'd away in the most classic Russian, Until each high, heroic bosom burn'd For cash and conquest, as if from a cushion To slay the Pagans who resisted, battering LXV. Johnson, who knew by this long colloquy Among the foremost; but if you'd express 'Right: I was busy, and forgot. Why, you The stranger stripling may remain with me: LXVII. But here a sort of scene began to ensue : LXVIII. O'er the promoted couple of brave men, Who were thus honour'd by the greatest chief That ever peopled hell with heroes slain, Or plunged a province or a realm in grief. O foolish mortals! always taught in vain! O glorious laurel since for one sole leaf Of thine imaginary deathless tree, Of blood and tears must flow the unebbing sea. Suwarrow, who had small regard for tears, Men's hearts against whole millions, when their trade Is butchery, sometimes a single sorrow He said-and in the kindest Calmuck tone- In safety to the waggons, where alone In fact they can be safe. You should have been Aware this kind of baggage never thrives: Save wed a year, I hate recruits with wives.' LXXI. 'May it please your excellency,' thus replied By service with my military brothers, LXXII. 'But these are but two Turkish ladies, who, To them, poor things, it is an awkward scrape: LXXIII. Meantime these two poor girls, with swimming eyes, In aspect, plainly clad, besmear'd with dust, LXXIV. For everything seem'd resting on his nod, To see the Sultan, rich in many a gem, (That royal bird, whose tail's a diadem) With all the pomp of power, it was a doubt How power could condescend to do without. LXXV. John Johnson, seeing their extreme dismay, Though little versed in feelings oriental, Suggested some slight comfort in his way. Don Juan, who was much more sentimental, Swore they should see him by the dawn of day, Or that the Russian army should repent all : And, strange to say, they found some consolation In this for females like exaggeration. LXXVI. And then with tears, and sighs, and some slight kisses, They parted for the present-these to await, According to the artillery's hits or misses, What sages call Chance, Providence, or Fate (Uncertainty is one of many blisses, A mortgage on Humanity's estate), Suwarrow-who but saw things in the gross, And as the wind a widow'd nation's wail, (So that their efforts should at length prevail) Nothing. The work of glory still went on If Homer had found mortars ready made; LXXIX. O thou eternal Homer! who couldst charm All ears, though long; all ages, though so short, By merely wielding, with poetic arm, Arms to which men will never more resort, Unless gunpowder should be found to harm Much less than is the hope of every court, Which now is leagued young freedom to annoy ; But they will not find Liberty a Troy ;LXXX. O thou eternal Homer! I have now To paint a siege, wherein more men were slain, With deadlier engines and a speedier blow, Than in thy Greek gazette of that campaign And yet, like all men else, I must allow, To vie with thee would be about as vain As for a brook to cope with ocean's flood; But still we moderns equal you in blood; LXXXI. If not in poetry, at least in fact; And fact is truth, the grand desideratum! Of which, howe'er the Muse describes each act, There should be ne'ertheless a slight substratum. But now the town is going to be attack'd; Great deeds are doing-how shall I relate 'em? Souls of immortal generals! Phoebus watches To colour up his rays from your despatches. Medals, rank, ribands, lace, embroidery, scarlet, Are things immortal to immortal man, As purple to the Babylonian harlot : An uniform to boys is like a fan To women; there is scarce a crimson varlet But Glory's glory; and if you would find At least he feels it, and some say he sees, A schooner, or-but it is time to cease This canto, ere my Muse perceives fatigue: The next shall ring a peal to shake all people, Like a bob-major from a village steeple. LXXXVI. Hark! through the silence of the cold, dull night, Along the leaguer'd wall and bristling bank Which curl in curious wreaths: how soon the smoke Of hell shall pall them in a deeper cloak! LXXXVII. Here pause we for the present-as even then That awful pause, dividing life from death, Struck for an instant on the hearts of men, Thousands of whom were drawing their last breath! A moment-and all will be life again! The march the charge! the shouts of either faith! Hurrah! and Allah! and-one moment more- |