Most strongly recommended an assault;
In which he was opposed by young and hoary,
Which made a long debate; but I must halt,
For if I wrote down every warrior’s speech,
I doubt few readers e’er would mount the breach.
XXXVI
There was a man, if that he was a man,
Not that his manhood could be called in question,
For had he not been Hercules, his span
Had been as short in youth as indigestion
Made his last illness, when, all worn and wan,
He died beneath a tree, as much unblest on
The soil of the green province he had wasted,
As e’er was locust on the land it blasted.
XXXVII
This was Potemkin617—a great thing in days
When homicide and harlotry made great;
If stars and titles could entail long praise,
His glory might half equal his estate.
This fellow, being six foot high, could raise
A kind of fantasy proportionate
In the then Sovereign of the Russian people,
Who measured men as you would do a steeple.
XXXVIII
While things were in abeyance, Ribas sent
A courier to the Prince, and he succeeded
In ordering matters after his own bent;
I cannot tell the way in which he pleaded,
But shortly he had cause to be content.
In the mean time, the batteries proceeded,
And fourscore cannon on the Danube’s border
Were briskly fired and answered in due order.618
XXXIX
But on the thirteenth, when already part
Of the troops were embarked, the siege to raise,
A courier on the spur inspired new heart
Into all panters for newspaper praise,619
As well as dilettanti in War’s art,
By his despatches (couched in pithy phrase)
Announcing the appointment of that lover of
Battles to the command, Field-Marshal Souvaroff.620
XL
The letter of the Prince to the same Marshal
Was worthy of a Spartan, had the cause
Been one to which a good heart could be partial—
Defence of freedom, country, or of laws;
But as it was mere lust of Power to o’er-arch all
With its proud brow, it merits slight applause,
Save for its style, which said, all in a trice,
“You will take Ismail at whatever price.”621
XLI
“Let there be Light! said God, and there was Light!”
“Let there be Blood!” says man, and there’s a sea!
The fiat of this spoiled child of the Night
(For Day ne’er saw his merits) could decree
More evil in an hour, than thirty bright
Summers could renovate, though they should be
Lovely as those which ripened Eden’s fruit;
For War cuts up not only branch, but root.
XLII
Our friends, the Turks, who with loud “Allahs” now
Began to signalise the Russ retreat,622
Were damnably mistaken; few are slow
In thinking that their enemy is beat,623
(Or beaten, if you insist on grammar, though
I never think about it in a heat,)
But here I say the Turks were much mistaken,
Who hating hogs, yet wished to save their bacon.
XLIII
For, on the sixteenth, at full gallop, drew
In sight two horsemen, who were deemed Cossacques
For some time, till they came in nearer view:
They had but little baggage at their backs,
For there were but three shirts between the two;
But on they rode upon two Ukraine hacks,
Till, in approaching, were at length descried
In this plain pair, Suwarrow and his guide.624
XLIV
“Great joy to London now!” says some great fool,
When London had a grand illumination,
Which to that bottle-conjuror, John Bull,
Is of all dreams the first hallucination;
So that the streets of coloured lamps are full,
That sage (said John) surrenders at discretion625
His purse, his soul, his sense, and even his nonsense,
To gratify, like a huge moth, this one sense.
XLV
’Tis strange that he should further “Damn his eyes,”
For they are damned; that once all-famous oath
Is to the Devil now no further prize,
Since John has lately lost the use of both.
Debt he calls Wealth, and taxes Paradise;
And Famine, with her gaunt and bony growth,
Which stare him in the face, he won’t examine,
Or swears that Ceres hath begotten Famine.
XLVI
But to the tale;—great joy unto the camp!
To Russian, Tartar, English, French, Cossacque,
O’er whom Suwarrow shone like a gas lamp,
Presaging a most luminous attack;
Or like a wisp along the marsh so damp,
Which leads beholders on a boggy walk,
He flitted to and fro a dancing light,
Which all who saw it followed, wrong or right.
XLVII
But, certes, matters took a different face;
There was enthusiasm and much applause,
The fleet and camp saluted with great grace,
And all presaged good fortune to their cause.
Within a cannot-shot length of the place
They drew, constructed ladders, repaired flaws
In former works, made new, prepared fascines,
And all kinds of benevolent machines.
XLVIII
’Tis thus the spirit of a single mind
Makes that of multitudes take one direction,
As roll the waters to the breathing wind,
Or roams the herd beneath the bull’s protection;
Or as a little dog will lead the blind,
Or a bell-wether form the flock’s connection
By tinkling sounds, when they go forth to victual;
Such is the sway of your great men o’er little.
XLIX
The whole camp rung with joy; you would have thought
That they were going to a marriage feast
(This metaphor, I think, holds good as aught,
Since there is discord after both at least):
There was not now a luggage boy but sought
Danger and spoil with ardour much increased;
And why? because a little—odd—old man,
Stripped to his shirt, was come to lead the van.
L
But so it was; and every preparation
Was made with all alacrity: the first
Detachment of three columns took its station,
And waited but the signal’s voice to burst
Upon the foe: the second’s ordination
Was also in three columns, with a thirst
For Glory gaping o’er a sea of Slaughter:
The third, in columns two, attacked by water.626
LI
New batteries were erected, and was held
A general council,
