VI.

The night was dark, and the thick mist allow'd
Nought to be seen save the artillery's flame,
Which arch'd the horizon like a fiery cloud,
And in the Danube's waters shone the same-(1)
A mirror'd hell! the volleying roar, and loud
Long booming of each peal on peal, o'ercame
The ear far more than thunder; for Heaven's flashes
Spare, or smite rarely-man's make millions ashes!

VII.

The column order'd on the assault scarce pass'd

Beyond the Russian batteries a few toises, When up the bristling Moslem rose at last,

Answering the Christian thunders with like voices: Then one vast fire, air, earth, and stream embraced, Which rock'd as 't were beneath the mighty noises ; While the whole rampart blazed like Etna, when The restless Titan hiccups in his den. (2)

(1) ["La nuit était obscure; un brouillard épais ne nous permettait de distinguer autre chose que le feu de notre artillerie, dont l'horizon était embrasé de tous côtés: ce feu, partant du milieu du Danube, se réfléchissait sur les eaux, et offrait un coup d'œil très-singulier."— Hist. de la Nouvelle Russie, tom. iii. p. 209.]

(2) ["A peine eut-on parcouru l'espace de quelques toises au-delà des batteries, que les Turcs, qui n'avaient point tiré pendant toute la nuit, s'apperçevant de nos mouvemens, commencèrent de leur côté un feu très-vif, qui embrasa le reste de l'horizon: mais ce fut bien autre chose lorsque, avancés davantage, le feu de la mousqueterie commença dans toute l'étendue du rempart que nous appercevions. Ce fut alors que la place parut à nos yeux comme un volcan dont le feu sortait de toutes parties."- Ibid. p. 209.]

VIII.

And one enormous shout of "Allah!”(1) rose
In the same moment, loud as even the roar
Of war's most mortal engines, to their foes

Hurling defiance: city, stream, and shore Resounded" Allah!" and the clouds which close With thick'ning canopy the conflict o'er, Vibrate to the Eternal name.

Hark! through

All sounds it pierceth" Allah! Allah! Hu!" (2)

IX.

The columns were in movement one and all,
But of the portion which attack'd by water,
Thicker than leaves the lives began to fall, (3)
Though led by Arseniew, that great son of slaughter,
As brave as ever faced both bomb and ball.

66

Carnage" (so Wordsworth tells you)" is God's
daughter :" (4)

If he speak truth, she is Christ's sister, and
Just now behaved as in the Holy Land.

(1) ["Un cri universel d'Allah! qui se répétait tout autour de la ville, vint encore rendre plus extraordinaire cet instant, dont il est impossible de se faire une idée."— Hist. de la N. R. p. 209.]

(2) Allah Hu! is properly the war cry of the Mussulmans, and they dwell on the last syllable, which gives it a wild and peculiar effect.

(3) ["Toutes les colonnes étaient en mouvement; celles qui attaquaient par eau commandées par le général Arseniew, essuyèrent un feu épouvantable, et perdirent avant le jour un tiers de leurs officiers."— Ibid.]; (4) "But Thy most dreaded instrument

In working out a pure intent,

Is man array'd for mutual slaughter;
Yea, Carnage is thy daughter!"

WORDSWORTH'S Thanksgiving Ode.

To wit, the Deity's: this is perhaps as pretty a pedigree for murder as ever was found out by Garter King at Arms. -What would have been said, had any free-spoken people discovered such a lineage?

X.

The Prince de Ligne was wounded in the knee ; Count Chapeau-Bras, too, had a ball between His cap and head, (1) which proves the head to be Aristocratic as was ever seen,

Because it then received no injury

More than the cap; in fact, the ball could mean No harm unto a right legitimate head: "Ashes to ashes"-why not lead to lead?

XI.

Also the General Markow, Brigadier,

Insisting on removal of the prince

Amidst some groaning thousands dying near,

All common fellows, who might writhe and wince,

And shriek for water into a deaf ear,

The General Markow, who could thus evince His sympathy for rank, by the same token, To teach him greater, had his own leg broken. (2)

XII.

Three hundred cannon threw up their emetic,
And thirty thousand muskets flung their pills
Like hail, to make a bloody diuretic. (3)

Mortality! thou hast thy monthly bills;

(1) ["Le Prince de Ligne fut blessé au genou; le Duc de Richelieu eut une balle entre le fond de son bonnet et sa tête."- Hist. de la Nouvelle Russie, t. iii. p. 210.]

(2) ["Le brigadier Markow, insistant pour qu'on emportât le prince blessé, reçut un coup de fusil qui lui fracassa le pied."— Ibid. p. 210.]

(3) ["Trois cents bouches à feu vomissaient sans interruption, et trente mille fusils alimentaient sans relâche une grêle de balles."— Ibid. p. 210.]

Thy plagues, thy famines, thy physicians, yet tick, Like the death-watch, within our ears the ills

Past, present, and to come; -but all may yield To the true portrait of one battle-field.

XIII.

There the still varying pangs, which multiply
Until their very number makes men hard
By the infinities of agony,

Which meet the gaze, whate'er it may regard— The groan, the roll in dust, the all-white eye

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

XIV.

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

XV.

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, (1)
Quite orderly, as if upon parade.

XVI.

And this was admirable; for so hot

The fire was, 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 which victory by no means boded To gentlemen engaged in the assault :

Hounds, when the huntsman tumbles, are at fault.

XVII.

But here I leave the general concern,

To track our hero on his path 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:

(1) ["Les troupes, déjà débarquées, se portèrent à droite pour s'emparer d'un batterie; et celles débarquées plus bas, principalement composées des grenadiers de Fanagorie, escaladaient le retranchement et la palissade.”— Hist. de la Nouvelle Russie, tom. iii. p. 210.]