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 VISION 
 
 OF 
 
 DON RODERICK; 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 BY 
 
 WALTER SCOTT, Esq. 
 
 Quid dignum memorare tuis, Hispania, terris, 
 Vox humana valet ! Claudian. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 printcti up James HBaUantpttt attti Co* 
 
 FOR JOHN BALLANTYNE AND CO. HANOVER STREET, EDINBURGH ; 
 
 AND LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 1811. 
 
 154155 
 

 
 ^ 
 
 * 

 
 
 TO 
 
 JOHN WHITMORE, Esq. 
 
 AND 
 
 TO THE COMMITTEE OF SUBSCRIBERS FOR RELIEF OF THE PORTUGUEZE 
 SUFFERERS, IN WHICH HE PRESIDES, 
 
 THIS POEM, 
 
 COMPOSED FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE FUND UNDER 
 THEIR MANAGEMENT, 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED BY 
 
 WALTER SCOTT.
 
 The following Poem is founded upon a Spanish Tradition, par- 
 ticularly detailed in the Notes; but bearing, in general, that 
 iDon Roderick, the last Gothic King of Spain, xvhen the Inva- 
 >sion of the Moors was impending, had the temerity to descend 
 «Jnto an ancient vault, near Toledo, the opening of which had 
 "been denounced as fatal to the Spanish monarchy. The legend 
 'fadds, that his rash curiosity was mortified by an emblematical 
 Representation of those Saracens, who, in the year 7 U, defeated 
 \Um in battle, and reduced Spain under their dominion. I have 
 
 O 
 
 presumed to prolong the Vision of the Revolutions of Spain 
 down to the present eventful crisis of the Peninsula ; arid to 
 divide it, by a supposed change of scene, into Three Periods. 
 The First of these represents the Invasion of the Moors, the 
 Defeat and Death of Roderick, and closes with the peaceful 
 occupation of the country by the Victors. The Second Period 
 
 P
 
 Vlll 
 
 embraces the state of the Peninsula, when the conquests of the 
 Spaniards and Portuguese in the East and West Indies had 
 raised to the highest pitch the renown of their arms ; sullied, 
 however, by superstition and cruelty. An allusion to the inhu- 
 manities of the Inquisition terminates this picture. The Last 
 Part of the Poem opens with the state of Spain previous to the 
 unparalleled treachery of Buonaparte ; gives a sketch of the 
 usurpation attempted upon that unsuspicious and friendly king- 
 dom, and terminates with the arrival of the British succours. 
 It may be farther proper to mention, that the object of the 
 Poem is less to commemorate or detail particular incidents, 
 than to exhibit a general and impressive picture of the several 
 periods brought upoii the stage. 
 
 I am too sensible of the respect due to the Public, especially 
 by one who has already experienced more than ordinary indul- 
 gence, to offer any apology for the inferiority of the poetry to 
 the subject it is chiefly designed to commemorate. Yet I think 
 it proper to mention, that while I was hastily executing a work, 
 written for a temporary purpose, and on passing events, the task 
 was most cruelly interrupted by the successive deaths of Lord 
 President Blair, and Lord Viscount Melville. In those
 
 IX 
 
 distinguished characters, I had not only to regret persons whose 
 lives were most important to Scotland, but also whose notice and 
 patronage honoured my entrance upon active life ; and I may 
 add, with melancholy pride, who permitted my more advanced 
 age to claim no common share in their friendship. Under 
 such interruptions, the following verses, which my best and 
 happiest efforts must have left far unworthy of their theme, 
 have, I am myself sensible, an appearance of negligence and 
 incoherence, which, in other circumstances, I might have been 
 able to remove. 
 
 Edinburgh, June 24, 1811.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 Introduction 3 
 
 The Vision }S 
 
 Conclusion 57 
 
 Notes ?3
 
 THE 
 
 VISION OF DON RODERICK. 

 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 I. 
 
 Lives there a strain, whose sounds of mounting fire 
 
 May rise distinguish'd o'er the din of war, 
 Or died it with yon Master of the Lyre, 
 
 Who sung beleaguer' d Dion's evil star ? 
 Such, Wellington, might reach thee from afar, 
 
 Wafting its descant wide o'er Ocean's range ; 
 Nor shouts, nor clashing arms, its mood could mar, 
 
 All as it swell'd 'twixt each loud trumpet-change, 
 That clangs to Britain victory, to Portugal revenge !
 
 4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 II. 
 
 Yes ! such a strain, with all o'er-powering measure, 
 
 Might melodize with each tumultuous sound, 
 Each voice of fear or triumph, woe or pleasure, 
 
 That rings Mondego's ravaged shores around ; 
 The thundering cry of hosts with conquest crown'd, 
 
 The female shriek, the ruin'd peasant's moan, 
 The shout of captives from their chains unbound, 
 
 The foil'd oppressor's deep and sullen groan, 
 A Nation's choral hymn for tyranny o'erthrown. 
 
 III. 
 But we, weak minstrels of a laggard day, 
 
 Skill'd but to imitate an elder page, 
 Timid and raptureless, can we repay 
 
 The debt thou claim'st in this exhausted age ? 
 
 6
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Thou givest our lyres a theme, that might engage 
 Those that could send thy name o'er sea and land, 
 
 While sea and land shall last ; for Homer's rage 
 A theme ; a theme for Milton's mighty hand — 
 How much unmeet for us, a faint degenerate band ! 
 
 IV, 
 
 Ye mountains stern ! within whose rugged breast 
 
 The friends of Scottish freedom found repose ; 
 Ye torrents ! whose hoarse sounds have soothed their 
 rest, 
 
 Returning from the field of vanquish'd foes ; 
 Say, have ye lost each wild majestic close, 
 
 That erst the choir of bards or druids flung, 
 What time their hymn of victory arose, 
 
 And Cattraeth's glens with voice of triumph rung, 
 And mystic Merlin harp'd, and grey-hair'd Llywarchsung.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 O ! if your wilds such minstrelsy retain, 
 
 As sure your changeful gales seem oft to say, 
 When sweeping wild and sinking soft again, 
 
 Like trumpet-jubilee, or harp's wild sway ; 
 If ye can echo such triumphant lay, 
 
 Then lend the note to him has loved you long ! 
 Who pious gather' d each tradition grey, 
 
 That floats your solitary wastes along, 
 And with affection vain gave them new voice in song. 
 
 VI. 
 
 For not till now, how oft soe'er the task 
 Of truant verse hath lighten'd graver care, 
 
 From muse or sylvan was he wont to ask, 
 In phrase poetic, inspiration fair ;
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Careless he gave his numbers to the air, — 
 They came unsought for, if applauses came ; 
 
 Nor for himself prefers he now the prayer ; 
 Let but his verse befit a hero's fame, 
 Immortal be the verse ! — forgot the poet's name. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Hark, from yon misty cairn their answer tost : 
 
 " Minstrel ! the fame of whose romantic lyre, 
 Capricious swelling now, may soon be lost, 
 
 Like the light nickering of a cottage fire ; 
 If to such task presumptuous thou aspire, 
 
 Seek not from us the meed to warrior due : 
 Age after age has gather d son to sire, 
 
 Since our grey cliffs the din of conflict knew, 
 Or, pealing through our vales, victorious bugles blew.
 
 s INTRODUCTION. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " Decayed our old traditionary lore, 
 
 Save where the lingering fays renew their ring, 
 By milk-maid seen beneath the hawthorn hoar, 
 
 Or round the marge of Minchmore's haunted 
 spring ; 
 Save where their legends grey-hair'd shepherds sing, 
 
 That now scarce win a listening ear but thine, 
 Of feuds obscure, and border ravaging, 
 
 And rugged deeds recount in rugged line, 
 Of moonlight foray made on Teviot, Tweed, or Tyne. 
 
 IX. 
 
 " No ! search romantic lands, where the near Sun 
 Gives with unstinted boon ethereal flame, 
 
 Where the rude villager, his labour done, 
 
 In verse spontaneous chaunts some favour' d name ;
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 Whether Olalia's charms his tribute claim, 
 
 Her eye of diamond, and her locks of jet ; 
 Or whether, kindling at the deeds of Graeme, 
 He sing, to wild Morisco measure set, 
 Old Albin's red claymore, green Erin's bayonet ! 
 
 X. 
 
 " Explore those regions, where the flinty crest 
 
 Of wild Nevada ever gleams with snows, 
 Where in the proud Alhambra's ruined breast 
 
 Barbaric monuments of pomp repose ; 
 Or where the banners of more ruthless foes 
 
 Than the fierce Moor, float o'er Toledo's fane, 
 From whose tall towers even now the patriot throws 
 
 An anxious glance, to spy upon the plain 
 The blended ranks of England, Portugal, and Spain.
 
 lo INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XL 
 
 " There, of Numantian fire a swarthy spark 
 
 Still lightens in the sun-burnt native's eye ; 
 The stately port, slow step, and visage dark, 
 
 Still mark enduring pride and constancy. 
 And, if the glow of feudal chivalry 
 
 Beam not, as once, thy nobles' dearest pride, 
 Iberia ! oft thy crestless peasantry 
 
 Have seen the plumed Hidalgo quit their side, 
 Have seen, yet dauntless stood — 'gainst fortune fought 
 and died. 
 
 XII. 
 
 " And cherished still by that unchanging race, 
 Are themes for minstrelsy more high than thine 
 
 Of strange tradition many a mystic trace, 
 Legend and vision, prophecy and sign ;
 
 INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 Where wonders wild of Arabesque combine 
 With Gothic imagery of darker shade, 
 
 Forming a model meet for minstrel line. 
 
 Go, seek such theme !" — The Mountain Spirit said : 
 With filial awe I heard — I heard, and I obeyed.
 
 THE 
 
 VISION OF DON RODERICK. 
 
 I. 
 
 .Rearing their crests amid the cloudless skies, 
 
 And darkly clustering in the pale moonlight, 
 Toledo's holy towers and spires arise, 
 
 As from a trembling lake of silver white ; 
 Their mingled shadows intercept the sight 
 
 Of the broad burial-ground outstretched below, 
 And nought disturbs the silence of the night ; 
 
 All sleeps in sullen shade, or silver glow, 
 All save the heavy swell of Teio's ceaseless flow.
 
 ii THE VISION 
 
 II. 
 
 All save the rushing swell of Teio's tide, 
 
 Or, distant heard, a courser's neigh or tramp ; 
 'Their changing rounds as watchful horsemen ride, 
 
 To guard the limits of King Roderick's camp. 
 For, through the river's night-fog rolling damp, 
 
 Was many a proud pavilion dimly seen, 
 Which glimmer d back, against the moon's fair lamp, 
 
 Tissues of silk and silver twisted sheen, 
 And standards proudly pitch'd, and warders armed 
 between. 
 
 III. 
 
 But of their Monarch's person keeping ward, 
 Since last the deep-mouth'd bell of vespers toll'd, 
 
 The chosen soldiers of the royal guard 
 
 Their post beneath the proud Cathedral hold :
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 15 
 
 A band unlike their Gothic sires of old, 
 
 Who, for the cap of steel and iron mace, 
 Bear slender darts, and casques bedeck'd with gold, 
 While silver-studded belts their shoulders grace, 
 Where ivory quivers ring in the broad falchion's place. 
 
 IV. 
 
 In the light language of an idle court, 
 
 They murmur'd at their master's long delay, 
 And held his lengthen'd orisons in sport : — 
 
 " What ! will Don Roderick here till morning stay, 
 To wear in shrift and prayer the night away ? 
 
 And are his hours in such dull penance past 
 For fair Florinda's plunder'd charms to pay ?" — 
 
 Then to the east their weary eyes they cast, 
 And wish'd the lingering dawn would glimmer forth 
 at last.
 
 16 THE VISION 
 
 V. 
 
 But, far within, Toledo's Prelate lent 
 
 An ear of fearful wonder to the King ; 
 The silver lamp a fitful lustre sent, 
 
 So long that sad confession witnessing : 
 For Roderick told of many a hidden thing, 
 
 Such as are lothly uttered to the air, 
 When Fear, Remorse, and Shame, the bosom wring, 
 
 And Guilt his secret burthen cannot bear, 
 And Conscience seeks in speech a respite from Despair. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Full on the Prelate's face, and silver hair, 
 
 The stream of failing light was feebly roll'd ; 
 
 But Roderick's visage, though his head was bare, 
 Was shadow' d by his hand and mantle's fold.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 17 
 
 While of his hidden soul the sins he told, 
 Proud Alaric's descendant could not brook, 
 
 That mortal man his bearing should behold, 
 
 Or boast that he had seen, when conscience shook, 
 Fear tame a monarch's brow, remorse a warrior's look. 
 
 VII. 
 The old man's faded cheek waxed yet more pale, 
 
 As many a secret sad the king bewray'd ; 
 And sign and glance eked out the unfinished tale, 
 
 When in the midst his faultering whisper staid. — 
 " Thus royal Witiza* was slain," — he said ; 
 
 * The predecessor of Roderick upon the Spanish throne, and slain by 
 his connivance, as is affirmed by Rodriguez of loledo, the father of Spa- 
 nish history.
 
 m THE VISION 
 
 " Yet, boly father, deem not it was I. ' — 
 Thus still Ambition strives her crimes to shade — 
 " Oh rather deem 'twas stern necessity ! 
 Self-preservation bade, and I must kill or die. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " And, if Florinda's shrieks alarmed the air, 
 
 If she invoked her absent sire in vain, 
 And on her knees implored that I would spare, 
 
 Yet, reverend priest, thy sentence rash refrain ! — 
 All is not as it seems — the female train 
 
 Know by their bearing to disguise their mood :"— 
 But Conscience here, as if in high disdain, 
 
 Sent to the Monarch's cheek the burning blood- 
 He stay'd his speech abrupt — and up the Prelate stood.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 19 
 
 IX. 
 
 " hardened offspring of an iron race ! 
 
 What of thy crimes, Don Roderick, shall I say ? 
 What alms, or prayers, or penance can efface 
 
 Murder's dark spot, wash treason's stain away ! 
 For the foul ravisher how shall I pray, 
 
 Who, scarce repentant, makes his crime his boast? 
 How hope Almighty vengeance shall delay, 
 
 Unless, in mercy to yon Christian host, 
 He spare the shepherd, lest the guiltless sheep be lost." — 
 
 X. 
 
 Then kindled the dark Tyrant in his mood, 
 And to his brow returned its dauntless gloom ; 
 
 " And welcome then," he cried, " be blood for blood, 
 For treason treachery, for dishonour doom !
 
 20 THE VISION 
 
 Yet will I kuovv whence come they, or by whom. 
 Shew, for thou canst — give forth the fated key, 
 And guide me, Priest, to that mysterious room, 
 Where, if aught true in old tradition be, 
 His nation's future fates a Spanish King shall see." — 
 
 XL 
 
 " Ill-fated prince ! recall the desperate word, 
 
 Or pause ere yet the omen thou obey ! 
 Bethink, yon spell-bound portal would afford 
 
 Never to former Monarch entrance-way ; 
 Nor shall it ever ope, old records say, 
 
 Save to a King, the last of all his line, 
 What time his empire totters to decay, 
 
 And treason digs, beneath, her fatal mine, 
 And, high above, impends avenging wrath divine." —
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 21 
 
 XII. 
 
 — " Prelate ! a Monarch's fate brooks no delay ; 
 
 Lead on !" — The ponderous key the old man took, 
 And held the winking lamp, and led the way, 
 
 By winding stair, dark aisle, and secret nook, 
 Then on an ancient gate-way bent his look ; 
 
 And, as the key the desperate King essay'd, 
 Low-muttered thunders the Cathedral shook, 
 
 And twice he stopped, and twice new effort made, 
 Till the huge bolts rolled back, and the loud hinges 
 bray'd. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Long, large, and lofty, was that vaulted hall ; 
 
 Roof, walls, and floor, were all of marble stone, 
 Of polished marble, black as funeral pall, 
 
 Carved o'er with signs and characters unknown.
 
 22 THE VISION 
 
 A paly light, as of the dawning, shone 
 
 Through the sad bounds, but whence they could 
 not spy ; 
 For window to the upper air was none ; 
 
 Yet, by that light, Don Roderick could descry 
 Wonders that ne'er till then were seen by mortal eye. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Grim centinels, against the upper wall, 
 
 Of molten bronze, two Statues held their place ; 
 Massive their naked limbs, their stature tall, 
 
 Their frowning foreheads golden circles grace. 
 Moulded they seemed for kings of giant race, 
 
 That lived and sinned before the avenging flood ; 
 This grasped a scythe, that rested on a mace ; 
 
 This spread his wings for flight, that pondering stood, 
 Each stubborn seemed and stern, immutable of mood.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 29 
 
 XV. 
 
 Fixed was the right-hand Giant's brazen look 
 
 Upon his brother's glass of shifting sand, 
 As if its ebb he measured by a book, 
 
 Whose iron volume loaded his huge hand ; 
 In which was wrote of many a falling land, 
 
 Of empires lost, and kings to exile driven ; 
 And o'er that pair their names in scroll expand — 
 
 " Lo, Destiny and Time ! to whom by Heaven 
 The guidance of the earth is for a season given." — 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Even while they read, the sand-glass wastes away ; 
 
 And, as the last and lagging grains did creep, 
 That right-hand Giant 'gan his club upsway, 
 
 As one that startles from a heavy sleep.
 
 24- THE VISION 
 
 Full on the upper wall the mace's sweep 
 
 At once descended with the force of thunder. 
 
 And hurtling down at once, in crumbled heap, 
 The marble boundary was rent asunder, 
 And gave to Roderick's viewnewsightsof fear and wonder. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 For they might spy, beyond that mighty breach, 
 
 Realms as of Spain in visioned prospect laid, 
 Castles and towers, in due proportion each, 
 
 As by some skilful artist's hand pourtray'd : 
 Here, crossed by many a wild Sierra's shade, 
 
 And boundless plains that tire the traveller's eye ; 
 There, rich with vineyard and with olive glade, 
 
 Or deep-embrowned by forests huge and high, 
 Or washed by mighty streams, that slowly murmured by. 
 
 9
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 23 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 And here, as erst upon the antique stage 
 
 Passed forth the bands of masquers trimly led, 
 In various forms, and various equipage, 
 
 While fitting strains the hearer's fancy fed ; 
 So, to sad Roderick's eye in order spread, 
 
 Successive pageants filled that mystic scene, 
 Shewing the fate of battles ere they bled, 
 
 And issue of events that had not been ; 
 And ever and anon strange sounds were heard between. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 First shrilled an unrepeated female shriek ! — 
 It seemed as if Don Roderick knew the call, 
 
 For the bold blood was blanching in his cheek. — 
 Then answered kettle-drum and atabal, 
 
 D
 
 26 THE VISION 
 
 Gong-peal and cymbal-clank the ear appal, 
 The Tecbir war-cry, and the Lelies yell, 
 Ring wildly dissonant along the hall. 
 
 Needs not to Roderick their dread import tell — 
 " The Moor!" he cried, " the Moor ! — ring out theTocsin 
 bell! 
 
 XX. 
 
 " They come ! they come ! I see the groaning lands 
 
 White with the turbans of each Arab horde, 
 Swart Zaarah joins her misbelieving bands, 
 
 Alia and Mahomet their battle-word, 
 The choice they yield the Koran or the sword. — 
 
 See how the Christians rush to arms amain ! — 
 In yonder shout the voice of conflict roared ; 
 
 The shadowy hosts are closing on the plain — 
 Now, God and Saint Iago strike, for the good cause of Spain !"
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 2? 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " By heaven, the Moors prevail ! the Christians yield ! — 
 Their coward leader gives for flight the sign ! 
 
 The sceptered craven mounts to quit the field- 
 Is not yon steed Orelia ? — Yes, 'tis mine ! 
 
 But never was she turned from battle-line : 
 
 Lo ! where the recreant spurs o'er stock and stone ! — 
 
 Curses pursue the slave and wrath divine ! 
 
 Rivers ingulph him!" — "Hush,"inshudderingtone, 
 The Prelate said ; " rash Prince, yon visioned form's thine 
 
 own."- 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Just then, a torrent crossed the flier's course ; 
 
 The dangerous ford the Kingly Likeness tried ; 
 But the deep eddies whelmed both man and horse, 
 
 Swept like benighted peasant down the tide ; 
 
 4
 
 2 8 THE VISION 
 
 And the proud Moslemah spread far and wide, 
 
 As numerous as their native locust band ; 
 Berber and Ismael's sons the spoils divide, 
 With naked scimitars mete out the land, 
 And for their bondsmen base the freeborn natives brand. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Then rose the grated Harem, to inclose 
 
 The loveliest maidens of the Christian line ; 
 Then, menials to their misbelieving foes, 
 
 Castile's young nobles held forbidden wine ; 
 Then, too, the holy Cross, salvation's sign, 
 
 By impious hands was from the altar thrown, 
 And the deep aisles of the polluted shrine 
 
 Echoed, for holy hymn and organ-tone, 
 The Santon's frantic dance, the Fakir's gibbering moan.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 29 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 How fares Don Roderick ?— E'en as one who spies 
 
 Flames dart their glare o'er midnight's sable woof, 
 And hears around his children's piercing cries, 
 
 And sees the pale assistants stand aloof ; 
 While cruel Conscience brings him bitter proof, 
 
 His folly, or his crime, have caused his grief; 
 And, while above him nods the crumbling roof, 
 
 He curses earth and Heaven— himself in chief- 
 Desperate of earthly aid, despairing Heaven's relief ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 That scythe-armed Giant turned his fatal glass, 
 And twilight on the landscape closed her wings ; 
 
 Far to Asturian hills the war-sounds pass, 
 And in their stead rebeck or timbrel rings ;
 
 30 
 
 THE VISION 
 
 And to the sound the bell-deck'd dancer springs, 
 
 Bazars resound as when their marts are met, 
 In tourney light the Moor his jerrid flings, 
 And on the land as evening seemed to set, 
 The Imaum's chaunt was heard from mosque or minaret 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 So passed that pageant. Ere another came, 
 
 The visionary scene was wrapped in smoke, 
 Whose sulph'rous wreaths were crossed by sheets of 
 flame ; 
 
 With every flash a bolt explosive broke, 
 Till Roderick deemed the fiends had burst their yoke, 
 
 And waved 'gainst heaven the infernal gonfalone ! 
 For War a new and dreadful language spoke, 
 
 Never by ancient warrior heard or known ; 
 Light'ni ng and smoke her breath , and thunder was her tone.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 31 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 From the dim landscape roll the clouds away — 
 
 The Christians have regained their heritage ; 
 Before the Cross has waned the Crescent's ray, 
 
 And many a monastery decks the stage, 
 And lofty church, and low-brow'd hermitage. 
 
 The land obeys a Hermit and a Knight, — 
 The Genii these of Spain for many an age ; 
 
 This clad in sackcloth, that in armour bright, 
 And that was Valour named, this Bigotry was hight. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Valour was harnessed like a Chief of old, 
 
 Armed at all points, and prompt for knightly gest ; 
 
 His sword was tempered in the Ebro cold, 
 Morena's eagle-plume adorned his crest,
 
 32 THE VISION 
 
 The spoils of Afric's lion bound his breast. 
 
 Fierce he stepped forward and flung down his gage, 
 As if of mortal kind to brave the best. 
 
 Him followed his Companion, dark and sage, 
 As he, my Master sung, the dangerous Archimage. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Haughty of heart and brow the Warrior came, 
 
 In look and language proud as proud might be, 
 Vaunting his lordship, lineage, fights and fame, 
 
 Yet was that bare-foot Monk more proud than he ; 
 And as the ivy climbs the tallest tree, 
 
 So round the loftiest soul his toils he wound, 
 And with his spells subdued the fierce and free, 
 
 Till ermined Age, and Youth in arms renowned, 
 Honouring his scourge and hair-cloth, meekly kissed the 
 ground.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 33 
 
 XXX. 
 
 And thus it chanced that Valour, peerless Knight. 
 
 Who ne'er to King or Kaisar veiled his crest, 
 Victorious still in bull-feast, or in fight, 
 
 Since first his limbs with mail he did invest, 
 Stooped ever to that Anchoret's behest ; 
 
 Nor reasoned of the right nor of the wrong, 
 But at his bidding laid the lance in rest, 
 
 And wrought fell deeds the troubled world along, 
 For he was fierce as brave, and pitiless as strong. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Oft his proud gallies sought some new-found world, 
 That latest sees the sun, or first the morn ; 
 
 Still at that Wizard's feet their spoils he hurl'd, — 
 Ingots of ore from rich Potosi borne,
 
 34 THE VISION 
 
 Crowns by Caciques, aigrettes by Omrahs worn, 
 
 Wrought of rare gems, but broken, rent, and foul ; 
 Idols of gold from heathen temples torn, 
 
 Bedabbled all with blood. — With grisly scowl 
 The Hermit marked the stains, and smiled beneath his cowl. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Then did he bless the offering, and bade make 
 
 Tribute to heaven of gratitude and praise; 
 And at his word the choral hymns awake, 
 
 And many a hand the silver censer sways. 
 But with the incense breath these censers raise, 
 
 Mixt streams from corpses smouldering in the fire ; 
 The groans of prisoned victims mar the lays, 
 
 And shrieks of agony confound the quire, 
 While, mid the mingled sounds, the darkened scenes expire.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 35 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Preluding light, were strains of music heard, 
 
 As once again revolved that measured sand ; 
 Such sounds as when, for sylvan dance prepared, 
 
 Gay Xeres summons forth her vintage band ; 
 When for the light Bolero ready stand 
 
 The Mozo blithe, with gay Muchacha met, 
 He conscious of his broidered cap and band, 
 
 She of her netted locks and light corsette, 
 Each tiptoe perched to spring, and shake the castanet. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And well such strains the opening scene became j 
 For Valour had relaxed his ardent look, 
 
 And at a lady's feet, like lion tame, 
 Lay stretched, full loth the weight of arms to brook ;
 
 36 THE VISION 
 
 And softened Bigotry, upon his book, 
 
 Pattered a task of little good or ill : 
 But the blithe peasant plied his pruning hook, 
 Whistled the muleteer o'er vale and hill, 
 And rung from village-green the merry Seguidille. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Grey Royalty, grown impotent of toil, 
 
 Let the grave sceptre slip his lazy hold, 
 And careless saw his rule become the spoil 
 
 Of a loose Female and her Minion bold ; 
 But peace was on the cottage and the fold, 
 
 From court intrigue, from bickering faction far ; 
 Beneath the chesnut tree Love's tale was told ; 
 
 And to the tinkling of the light guitar, 
 Sweet stooped the western sun, sweet rose the evening 
 star.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 37 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 As that sea-cloud, in size like human hand 
 
 When first from Carmel by the Tishbite seen. 
 Came slowly over-shadowing Israel's land, 
 
 Awhile, perchance, bedecked with colours sheen, 
 While yet the sunbeams on its skirts had been, 
 
 Limning with purple and with gold its shroud, 
 Till darker folds obscured the blue serene, 
 
 And blotted heaven with one broad sable cloud — 
 Then sheeted rain burst down, and whirlwinds howled 
 aloud ; — 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Even so upon that peaceful scene was poured, 
 Like gathering clouds, full many a foreign band, 
 
 And He, their Leader, wore in sheath his sword, 
 And offered peaceful front and open hand ; 
 
 154155
 
 
 38 THE VISION 
 
 Veiling the perjured treachery he planned, 
 
 By friendship's zeal and honour's specious guise, 
 Until he won the passes of the land ; 
 
 Then, burst were honour's oath, and friendship's ties ! 
 He clutched his vulture-grasp, and called fair Spain his 
 prize. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 An Iron Crown his anxious forehead bore ; 
 
 And well such diadem his heart became, 
 Who ne'er his purpose for remorse gave o'er, 
 
 Or check'd his course for piety or shame ; 
 Who, trained a soldier, deemed a soldier's fame 
 
 Might flourish in the wreath of battles won, 
 Though neither truth nor honour deck'd his name ; 
 
 W ho, placed by fortune on a Monarch's throne, 
 Recked not of Monarch's faith, or Mercy's kingly tone.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 39 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 From a rude isle his ruder lineage came : 
 
 The spark, that, from a suburb hovel's hearth 
 Ascending, wraps some capital in flame, 
 
 Hath not a meaner or more sordid birth. 
 And for the soul that bade him waste the earth — 
 
 The sable land-flood from some swamp obscure, 
 That poisons the glad husband-field with dearth, 
 
 And bv destruction bids its fame endure, 
 Hath not a source more sullen, stagnant, and impure. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Before that Leader strode a shadowy Form : 
 
 Her limbs like mist, her torch like meteor shew'd, 
 
 ■ 
 
 With which she beckoned him through fight and storm, 
 And all he crushed that crossed his desperate road,
 
 40 THE VISION 
 
 Nor thought, nor feared, nor looked on what he trode ; 
 Realms could not glut hispride, blood could not slake, 
 So oft as e'er she shook her torch abroad — 
 It was Ambition bade his terrors wake, 
 Nor deigned she, as of yore, a milder form to take. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 No longer now she spurned at mean revenge, 
 
 Or staid her hand for conquered foeman's moan, 
 As when, the fates of aged Rome to change, 
 
 By Caesar's side she crossed the Rubicon ; 
 Nor joyed she to bestow the spoils she won. 
 
 As when the banded powers of Greece were tasked, 
 To war beneath the Youth of Macedon : 
 
 No seemly veil her modern minion asked, 
 He saw her hideous face, and loved the fiend unmasqued.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 41 
 
 XLII. 
 
 That Prelate marked his march — On banners blazed 
 
 With battles won in many a distant land, 
 On eagle-standards and on arms he gazed ; 
 
 " And hopest thou, then," he said, " thy power, 
 shall stand ? 
 O thou hast builded on the shifting sand, 
 
 And thou hast temper' d it with slaughter's flood ; 
 And know, fell scourge in the Almighty's hand ! 
 
 Gore-moistened trees shall perish in the bud, 
 And, by a bloody death, shall die the Man of Blood !" — 
 
 XLTII. 
 
 The ruthless Leader beckoned from his train 
 A wan fraternal Shade, and bade him kneel, 
 
 And paled his temples with the crown of Spain, 
 While trumpets rang, and heralds cried, " Castile !"
 
 42 THE VISION 
 
 Not that he loved him — No ! — in no man's weal, 
 Scarce in his own, e'er joyed that sullen heart ; 
 
 Yet round that throne he bade his warriors wheel, 
 That the poor puppet might perform his part, 
 
 And be a sceptred slave, at his stern beck to start. 
 
 XL1V. 
 
 But on the Natives of that Land misused, 
 
 Not long the silence of amazement hung, 
 Nor brooked they long their friendly faith abused ; 
 
 For, with a common shriek, the general tongue 
 Exclaim'd, " To arms !" and fast to arms they sprung. 
 
 And Valour woke, that Genius of the land ! 
 Pleasure, and ease, and sloth, aside he flung, 
 
 As burst the awakening Nazarite his band, 
 When'gainst his treacherous foes he clenched his dreadful 
 hand .
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 43 
 
 XLV. 
 
 That mimic Monarch now cast anxious eye 
 
 Upon the Satraps that begirt him round, 
 Now doffed his royal robe in act to fly, 
 
 And from his brow the diadem unbound. 
 So oft, so near, the Patriot bugle wound, 
 
 From Tarik's walls to Bilboa's mountains blown, 
 These martial satellites hard labour found, 
 
 To guard awhile his substituted throne — 
 Light recking of his cause, but battling for their own. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 From Alpuhara's peak that bugle rung, 
 And it was echoed from Corunna's wall ; 
 
 Stately Seville responsive war-shout flung, 
 Grenada caught it in her Moorish hall ;
 
 44 THE VISION 
 
 Galicia bade her children fight or fall, 
 
 Wild Biscay shook his mountain-coronet, 
 
 Valencia roused her at the battle-call, 
 
 And, foremost still where Valour's sons are met, 
 Fast started to his gun each fiery Miquelet. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 But unappalled, and burning for the fight, 
 
 The Invaders march, of victory secure ; 
 Skilful their force to sever or unite, 
 
 And trained alike to vanquish or endure. 
 Nor skilful less, cheap conquest to insure, 
 
 Discord to breathe, and jealousy to sow, 
 To quell by boasting, and by bribes to lure ; 
 
 While nought against them bring the unpractised foe, 
 Save hearts for freedom's cause, and hands for freedom's 
 blow.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 45 
 
 XLVIII. 
 Proudly they inarch — but O! they march not forth, 
 
 By one hot field to crown a brief campaign, 
 As when their eagles, sweeping through the North, 
 
 Destroyed at every stoop an ancient reign ! 
 Far other fate had Heaven decreed for Spain ; 
 
 In vain the steel, in vain the torch was plied, 
 New Patriot armies started from the slain, 
 
 High blazed the war, and long, and far, and wide, 
 And oft the God of Battles blest the righteous side. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Nor unatoned, where Freedom's foes prevail, 
 
 Remained their savage waste. With blade and brand, 
 
 By day the Invaders ravaged hill and dale, 
 But, with the darkness, the Guerilla band
 
 46 THE VISION 
 
 Came like night's tempest, and avenged the land, 
 And claimed for blood the retribution due, 
 
 Probed the hard heart, and lopp'dthe murderous hand ; 
 And Dawn, when o'er the scene her beams she threw, 
 Midst ruins they had made the spoilers' corpses knew. 
 
 L. 
 
 What Minstrel verse may sing, or tongue may tell, 
 
 Amid the visioned strife from sea to sea, 
 How oft the Patriot banners rose or fell, 
 
 Still honoured in defeat as victory ! 
 For that sad pageant of events to be, 
 
 Shewed every form of fight by field and flood ; 
 Slaughter and Ruin, shouting forth their glee, 
 
 Beheld, while riding on the tempest-scud, 
 The waters choaked with slain, the earth bedrenched 
 with blood !
 
 OF DON RODERICK. « 
 
 LI. 
 
 Then Zaragoza — blighted be the tongue 
 
 That names thy name without the honour due ! 
 For never hath the harp of minstrel rung, 
 
 Of faith so felly proved, so firmly true ! 
 Mine, sap, and bomb, thy shattered ruins knew, 
 
 Each art of war's extremity had room, 
 Twice from thy half-sacked streets the foe withdrew, 
 
 And when at length stern Fate decreed thy doom, 
 They won not Zaragoza, but her children's bloody tomb. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Yet raise thy head, sad City ! Though in chains, 
 Enthrall'd thou can'st not be ! Arise and claim 
 
 Reverence from every heart where Freedom reigns, 
 For what thou worshippest ! — thy sainted Dame,
 
 48 THE VISION 
 
 She of the Column, honoured be her name, 
 
 By all, whate'er their creed, who honour love ! 
 And like the sacred reliques of the flame, 
 
 That gave some martyr to the blessed above, 
 To every loyal heart may thy sad embers prove ! 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Nor thine alone such wreck. Gerona fair ! 
 
 Faithful to death thy heroes should be sung, 
 Manninsr the towers while o'er their heads the air 
 
 Swart as the smoke from raging furnace hung ; 
 Now thicker darkening where the mine was sprung, 
 
 Now briefly lightened by the cannon's flare, 
 Now arched with fire-sparks as the bomb was flung, 
 
 And reddening now with conflagration's glare, 
 While by the fatal light the foes for storm prepare.
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 49 
 
 LIV. 
 
 While all around was danger, strife, and fear, 
 
 While the earth shook, and darkened was the sky, 
 And wide Destruction stunned the listening ear, 
 
 Appalled the heart, and stupified the eye, — 
 Afar was heard that thrice-repeated cry, 
 
 In which old Albion's heart and tongue unite, 
 Whene'er her soul is up and pulse beats high, 
 
 Whether it hail the wine-cup or the fight, 
 And bid each arm be strong, or bid each heart be light. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Don Roderick turn'd him as the shout grew loud — 
 A varied scene the changeful vision show'd, 
 
 For, where the ocean mingled with the cloud, 
 A gallant navy stemm'd the billows broad. 
 
 o
 
 50 THE VISION 
 
 From mast and stern St George's symbol flow'd, 
 
 Blent with the silver cross to Scotland dear ; 
 Mottling the sea their landward barges row'd, 
 And flashed the sun on bayonet, brand, and spear, 
 And the wild beach returned the seaman's jovial cheer. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 It was a dread, yet spirit-stirring sight ! 
 
 The billows foamed beneath a thousand oars, 
 Fast as they land the red-cross ranks unite, 
 
 Legions on legions brightening all the shores. 
 Then banners rise, and cannon-signal roars, 
 
 Then peals the warlike thunder of the drum, 
 Thrills the loud fife, the trumpet-flourish pours, 
 
 And patriot hopes awake, and doubts are dumb, 
 For, bold in Freedom's cause, the bands of Ocean come !
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 51 
 
 LVII. 
 
 A various host they came — whose ranks display 
 
 Each mode in which the warrior meets the fight, 
 The deep battalion locks its firm array, 
 
 And meditates his aim the marksman light ; 
 Far glance the lines of sabres flashing bright, 
 
 Where mounted squadrons shake the echoing mead, 
 Lacks not artillery breathing flame and night, 
 
 Nor the fleet ordnance whirl'd by rapid steed, 
 That rivals lightning's flash in ruin and in speed. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 A various host — from kindred realms they came, 
 
 Brethren in arms, but rivals in renown — 
 For yon fair bands shall merry England claim, 
 And with their deeds of valour deck her crown.
 
 .32 THE VISION 
 
 Hers their bold port, and her's their martial frown, 
 And her's their scorn of death in freedom's cause, 
 Their eyes of azure, and their locks of brown, 
 
 And the blunt speech that bursts without a pause, 
 And freeborn thoughts, which league the Soldier with 
 the Laws. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 And O ! loved warriors of the Minstrel's land ! 
 
 Yonder your bonnets nod, your tartans wave ! 
 
 The rugged form may mark the mountain band, 
 
 And harsher features, and a mien more grave ; 
 But ne'er in battle field throbb'd heart so brave 
 
 As that which beats beneath the Scottish plaid, 
 
 And when the pibroch bids the battle rave, 
 
 And level for the charge your arms are laid, 
 
 Where lives the desperate foe, that for such onset staid
 
 OF DON RODERICK. S3 
 
 LX. 
 
 Hark ! from yon stately ranks what laughter rings, 
 
 Mingling wild mirth with war's stern minstrelsy, 
 His jest while each blithe comrade round him flings, 
 
 And moves to death with military glee : 
 Boast, Erin, boast them ! tameless, frank, and free, 
 
 In kindness warm, and fierce in danger known, 
 Rough Nature's children, humorous as she : 
 
 And He, yon Chieftain— strike the proudest tone 
 Of thy bold harp, green Isle '.—the Hero is thine own. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Now on the scene Vimeira should be shown, 
 On Talavera's fight should Roderick gaze, 
 
 And hear Corunna wail her battle won, 
 
 And see Busaco's crest with lightning blaze :—
 
 54 THE VISION 
 
 But shall fond fable mix with heroes' praise ? 
 
 Hath Fiction's stage for Truth's long triumphs room ? 
 And dare her wild-flowers mingle with the bays, 
 
 That claim a long eternity to bloom 
 Around the warrior's crest, and o'er the warrior's tomb ! 
 
 LXIL 
 
 Or may I give adventurous Fancy scope, 
 
 And stretch a bold hand to the awful veil 
 That hides futurity from anxious hope, 
 
 Bidding beyond it scenes of glory hail, 
 And painting Europe rousing at the tale 
 
 Of Spain's invaders from her confines hurl'd, 
 While kindling Nations buckle on their mail, 
 
 And Fame, with clarion-blast and wings unfurl'd, 
 To freedom and revenge awakes an injured World !
 
 OF DON RODERICK. 55 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 O vain, though anxious, is the glance I cast, 
 
 Since Fate has marked futurity her own : — 
 Yet fate resigns to Worth the glorious past, 
 
 The deeds recorded and the laurels won. 
 Then, though the Vault of Destiny be gone, 
 
 King, Prelate, all the phantasms of my brain, 
 Melted away like mist- wreaths in the sun, 
 
 Yet grant for faith, for valour, and for Spain, 
 One note of pride and fire, a Patriot's parting strain !
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 I. 
 
 " W ho shall command Estrella's mountain-tide 
 
 Back to the source, when tempest-chafed, to hie ? 
 Who, when Gascogne's vexed gulph is raging wide, 
 
 Shall hush it as a nurse her infant's cry ? 
 His magic power let such vain boaster try, 
 
 And when the torrent shall his voice obey, 
 And Biscay's whirlwinds list his lullaby, 
 
 Let him stand forth and bar mine eagles' way, 
 And they shall heed his voice, and at his bidding stay.
 
 58 CONCLUSION. 
 
 II. 
 
 " Else, ne'er to stoop, till high on Lisbon's towers 
 
 They close their wings, the symbol of our yoke, 
 And their own seahathwhelm'dyonred-cross Powers!"— *■ 
 
 Thus, on the summit of Alverca's rock, 
 To Marshal, Duke, and Peer, Gaul's Leader spoke. 
 
 While downward on the land his legions press, 
 Before them it was rich with vine and flock, 
 
 And smiled like Eden in her summer dress ; — 
 Behind their wasteful march, a reeking wilderness. 
 
 III. 
 
 And shall the boastful Chief maintain his word, 
 Though Heaven hath heard the wailings of the land, 
 
 Though Lusitania whet her vengeful sword, 
 
 Though Britons arm, and Wellington command !
 
 CONCLUSION. 59 
 
 No ! grim Busaco's iron ridge shall stand 
 
 An adamantine barrier to his force ! 
 And from its base shall wheel his shattered band, 
 As from the unshaken rock the torrent hoarse 
 Bears off its broken waves, and seeks a devious course. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet not because Alcoba's mountain-hawk 
 
 Hath on his best and bravest made her food, 
 In numbers confident, yon Chief shall baulk 
 
 His Lord's imperial thirst for spoil and blood : 
 For full in view the promised conquest stood, 
 
 And Lisbon's matrons, from their walls, might sum 
 The myriads that had half the world subdued, 
 
 And hear the distant thunders of the drum, 
 That bids the band of France to storm and havoc come.
 
 60 CONCLUSION. 
 
 V. 
 Four moons have heard these thunders idly roll'd, 
 
 Have seen these wistful myriads eye their prey, 
 As famish' d wolves survey a guarded fold — 
 
 But in the middle path, a Lion lay ! 
 At length they move — but not to battle-fray, 
 
 Nor blaze yon fires where meets the manly fight; 
 Beacons of infamy, they light the way, 
 
 Where cowardice and cruelty unite, 
 To damn with double shame their ignominious flight ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 O triumph for the Fiends of Lust and Wrath ! 
 
 Ne'er to be told, yet ne'er to be forgot, 
 What wanton horrors marked their wrackful path ! 
 
 The peasant butchered in his ruined cot,
 
 CONCLUSION. 61 
 
 The hoary priest even at the altar shot, 
 
 Childhood and age given o'er to sword and flame, 
 Woman to infamy ; — no crime forgot, 
 
 By which inventive daemons might proclaim 
 Immortal hate to Man, and scorn of God's great name ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 The rudest centinel, in Britain born, 
 
 With horror paused to view the havoc done, 
 Gave his poor crust to feed some wretch forlorn, 
 
 Wiped his stern eye, then fiercer grasped his gun. 
 Nor with less zeal shall Britain's peaceful son 
 
 Exult the debt of sympathy to pay ; 
 Riches nor poverty the tax shall shun, 
 
 Nor prince nor peer, the wealthy nor the gay, 
 Nor the poor peasant's mite, nor bard's more worthless 
 lay.
 
 62 CONCLUSION. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But thou — unfoughten wilt thou yield to Fate, 
 
 Minion of Fortune, now miscalled in vain ! 
 Can vantage-ground no confidence create, 
 
 Marcella's pass, nor Guarda's mountain-chain ? 
 Vain-glorious Fugitive ! yet turn again ! 
 
 Behold, where, named by some prophetic Seer, 
 Flows Honour's Fountain,* as fore-doomed the stain 
 
 From thy dishonoured name and arms to clear — 
 Fallen Child of Fortune, turn, redeem her favour here ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 Vet, ere thou turn'st, collect each distant aid ; 
 
 Those chief that never heard the Lion roar ! 
 Within whose souls lives not a trace pourtray'd, 
 
 Of Talavera, or Mondego's shore ! 
 
 The literal translation of Fuentes d'Ho?ioro.
 
 CONCLUSION. 63 
 
 Marshal each band thou hast, and summon more ; 
 
 Of war's fell stratagems exhaust the whole ; 
 Rank upon rank, squadron on squadron pour, 
 
 Legion on legion on thy foeman roll, 
 And weary out his arm — thou canst not quell his soul. 
 
 X. 
 
 O vainly gleams with steel Agueda's shore, 
 
 Vainly thy squadrons hide Assuava's plain, 
 And front the flying thunders as they roar, 
 
 With frantic charge and tenfold odds, in vain ! 
 And what avails thee that, for Cameron slain, 
 
 Wild from his plaided ranks the yell was given — 
 Vengeance and grief gave mountain rage the rein, 
 
 And, at the bloody spear-point headlong driven, 
 Thy Despot's giant guards fled like the rack of heaven.
 
 64 CONCLUSION. 
 
 XL 
 
 Go, baffled Boaster ! teach thy haughty mood 
 
 To plead at thine imperious master's throne ! 
 Say, thou hast left his legions in their blood, 
 
 Deceived his hopes, and frustrated thine own ; 
 Say, that thine utmost skill and valour shown 
 
 By British skill and valour were outvied ; 
 Last say, thy conqueror was Wellington ! 
 
 And if he chafe, be his own fortune tried — 
 God and our cause to friend, the venture we'll abide. 
 
 XII. 
 
 But ye, the heroes of that well fought day, 
 How shall a bard, unknowing and unknown, 
 
 His meed to each victorious leader pay, 
 Or bind on every brow the laurels won ?
 
 CONCLUSION. 65 
 
 Yet fain my harp would wake its boldest tone, 
 
 O'er the wide sea to hail Cadogan brave ; 
 And he, perchance, the minstrel note might own, 
 Mindful of meeting brief that Fortune gave 
 Mid yon far western isles, that hear the Atlantic rave. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Yes ! hard the task, when Britons wield the sword, 
 
 To give each Chief and every field its fame : 
 Hark ! Albuera thunders Beresford, 
 
 And red Barosa shouts for dauntless Graeme ! 
 O for a verse of tumult and of flame, 
 
 Bold as the bursting of their cannon sound, 
 To bid the world re-echo to their fame ! 
 For never, upon gory battle-ground, 
 With conquest's well-bought wreath were braver victors 
 crown' d !
 
 66 CONCLUSION. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 O who shall grudge him Albuera's bays, 
 
 Who brought a race regenerate to the field, 
 Roused them to emulate their fathers' praise, 
 
 Temper'd their headlong rage, their courage steel'd, 
 And raised fair Lusitania's fallen shield, 
 
 And gave new edge to Lusitania's sword, 
 And taught her sons forgotten arms to wield — ■ 
 
 Shivered my harp, and burst its every chord, 
 If it forget thy worth, victorious Be res ford ! 
 
 XV. 
 
 Not on that bloody field of battle won, 
 
 Though Gaul's proud legions rolled like mist away, 
 
 Was half his self-devoted valour shown, — 
 He gaged but life on that illustrious day ;
 
 CONCLUSION. 67 
 
 But when he toiled those squadrons to array, 
 
 Who fought like Britons in the bloody game, 
 Sharper than Polish pike or assagay, 
 
 He braved the shafts of censure and of shame, 
 And, dearer far than life, he pledged a soldier's fame. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Nor be his praise o'erpast who strove to hide 
 
 Beneath the warrior's vest affection's wound, 
 Whose wish, Heaven for his country's weal denied ; 
 
 Danger and fate he sought, but glory found. 
 From clime to clime, where'er war's trumpets sound, 
 
 The wanderer went ; yet, Caledonia ! still 
 Thine was his thought in march and tented ground 
 
 He dreamed mid Alpine cliffs of Athole's hill, 
 And heard in Ebro's roar his Lyndoch's lovely rill.
 
 68 CONCLUSION. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 O hero of a race renowned of old, 
 
 Whose war-cry oft has waked the battle-swell, 
 Since first distinguished in the onset bold, 
 
 Wild sounding when the Roman rampart fell ! 
 By Wallace' side it rung the Southron's knell, 
 
 Alderne, Kilsythe, and Tibber owned its fame, 
 Tummell's rude pass can of its terrors tell, 
 But ne'er from prouder field arose the name, 
 Than when wild Ronda learned the conquering shout 
 of Gr^me ! 
 
 XVIIL 
 
 But all too long, through seas unknown and dark, 
 
 (With Spenser's parable I close my tale) 
 By shoal and rock hath steered my venturous bark ; 
 And land-ward now I drive before the gale,
 
 CONCLUSION. 69 
 
 And now the blue and distant shore I hail, 
 
 And nearer now I see the port expand, 
 And now I gladly furl my weary sail, 
 
 And, as the prow light touches on the strand, 
 I strike rny red-cross flag, and bind my skiff to land. 
 
 THE END.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 K
 
 NOTES ON THE INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Note I. 
 
 And CattraetKs vales with voice of triumph rung, 
 And mystic Merlin harped, and grey -hair d Lly- 
 warch sung. — St. IV. p. 5. 
 
 This locality may startle those readers who do 
 not recollect, that much of the ancient poetry, 
 preserved in Wales, refers less to the history of 
 the principality to which that name is now li- 
 mited, than to events which happened in the 
 North-west of England and South-west of Scot- 
 land, where the Britons for a long time made a 
 stand against the Saxons. The battle of Cat-
 
 74 NOTES. 
 
 traeth, lamented by the celebrated Aneurin, is 
 supposed by the learned Dr Ley den to have been 
 fought on the skirts of Ettrick forest. It is known 
 to the English reader by the paraphrase of Gray, 
 beginning, 
 
 Had I but the torrent's might, 
 
 With headlong rage and wild affright, &c. 
 
 But it is not so generally known that the cham- 
 pions, mourned in this beautiful dirge, were the 
 British inhabitants of Edinburgh, who were cut 
 off by the Saxons of Deiria, or Northumberland, 
 about the latter part of the sixth century. — 
 Turner's History of the Anglo-Saxons, edition 
 1799, vol. i. p. 222. — Llywarch, the celebra- 
 ted bard and monarch, was Prince of Argood, in 
 Cumberland ; and his youthful exploits were 
 performed upon the Border, although in his age
 
 NOTES. 15 
 
 he was driven into Powys by the successes of the 
 Anglo-Saxons. As for Merlin Wyllt, or the Sa- 
 vage, his name of Caledonian, and his retreat into 
 the Caledonian wood, appropriates him to Scot- 
 land. Fordun dedicates the thirty-first chapter of 
 the third book of his Scoto-Chronicon, to a nar- 
 ration of the death of this celebrated bard and 
 prophet near Drumelziar, a village upon Tweed, 
 which is supposed to have derived its name, {quasi 
 Tumulus Merlini,) from the event. The particu- 
 lar spot in which he is buried is still shewn, and 
 appears, from the following quotation, to have 
 partaken of his prophetic qualities : — " There 
 is one thing remarkable here, which is, that 
 the burn, called Pausayl, runs by the east side 
 of this church-yard into the Tweed ; at the side 
 of which burn, a little below the church-yard, 
 the famous prophet Merlin is said to be buried.
 
 76 NOTES. 
 
 The particular place of his grave, at the root of 
 a thorn-tree, was shewn me many years ago, by 
 the old and reverend minister of the place, Mr 
 Richard Brown ; and here was the old prophecy 
 fulfilled, delivered in Scots rhyme, to this pur- 
 pose : 
 
 When Tweed and Pausayl meet at Merlin's grave, 
 Scotland and England shall one Monarch have. 
 
 " For the same day that our King James the 
 Sixth was crowned King of England, the river 
 Tweed, by an extraordinary flood, so far over- 
 flowed its banks, that it met and joined with the 
 Pausayl at the said grave, which was never be- 
 fore observed to fall out." — Pennycuik's Des- 
 cription of Tweeddale. Edin. 1715. 4. p. 26.
 
 NOTES. 17 
 
 Note II. 
 
 where the lingering fays renew their ring, 
 
 By milk-maid seen beneath the hawthorn hoar, 
 Or round the marge of Minchmore's haunted 
 spring. — St. VIII. p. 8. 
 
 A belief in the existence and nocturnal revels 
 of the fairies still lingers among the vulgar in Sel- 
 kirkshire. A copious fountain upon the ridge of 
 Minchmore, called the Cheesewell, is supposed 
 to be sacred to these fanciful spirits, and it was 
 customary to propitiate them by throwing in 
 something upon passing it. A pin was the usual 
 oblation, and the ceremony is still sometimes 
 practised, though rather in jest than earnest. 
 
 Note III. 
 verse spontaneous. — St. IX. p. 8. 
 
 The flexibility of the Italian and Spanish Ian-
 
 78 NOTES. 
 
 guages, and perhaps the liveliness of their genius, 
 renders these countries distinguished for the 
 talent of improvisation, which is found even 
 among the lowest of the people. It is mentioned 
 
 by Baretti and other travellers. 
 
 Note IV. 
 — — the deeds of Graeme. — St. IX. p. 9. 
 
 Over a name sacred for ages to heroic verse, a 
 poet may be allowed to exercise some power. I 
 have used the freedom, here and elsewhere, to 
 alter the orthography of the name of my gallant 
 countryman, in order to apprise the Southern 
 reader of its legitimate sound ; — Grahame being, 
 on the other side of the Tweed, usually pronoun- 
 ced as a dissyllable.
 
 NOTES ON THE VISION. 
 
 Note I. 
 i or fair Florinda s plunder d charms to pay. 
 
 St. IV. p. 15. 
 Almost all the Spanish historians, as well as the 
 voice of tradition, ascribe the invasion of the 
 Moors to the forcible violation committed by 
 Roderick upon Florinda, called by the Moors 
 Caba, or Cava. She was the daughter of Count 
 Julian, one of the Gothic monarch's principal 
 lieutenants, who, when the crime was perpetra- 
 ted, was engaged in the defence of Ceuta against 
 the Moors. In his indignation at the ingrati- 
 
 L
 
 80 NOTES. 
 
 tude of his sovereign, and the dishonour of his 
 daughter, Count Julian forgot the duties of a 
 Christian and a patriot, and forming an alliance 
 with Musa, then the caliph's lieutenant in Africa, 
 he countenanced the invasion of Spain by a body 
 of Saracens and Africans, commanded by the 
 celebrated Tarik ; the issue of which was the 
 defeat and death of Roderick, and the occupa- 
 tion of almost the whole peninsula by the Moors. 
 Voltaire, in his General History, expresses his 
 doubts of this popular story, and Gibbon gives 
 him some countenance. But the universal tradi- 
 tion is quite sufficient for the purposes of poetry. 
 The Spaniards, in detestation of Florinda's me- 
 mory, are said, by Cervantes, never to bestow 
 that name upon any human female, reserving it 
 
 ■ 
 
 for their dogs. Nor is the tradition less invete- 
 rate among the Moors, since the same author
 
 NOTES. 8] 
 
 mentions a promontory on the coast of Barbary, 
 called " The Cape of the Caba Rumia, which, 
 in our tongue, is the Cape of the Wicked Chris- 
 tian Woman ; and it is a tradition among the 
 Moors, that Caba, the daughter of Count Julian, 
 who was the cause of the loss of Spain, lies 
 buried there, and they think it ominous to be 
 forced into that bay ; for they never go in other- 
 wise than by necessity." 
 
 Note IT. 
 And guide me, Priest, to that mysterious room, 
 Where, if aught true in old tradition be, 
 His nations future fate a Spanish King shall see. 
 
 St. X. p. 20. 
 The transition of an incident from history 
 to tradition, and from tradition to fable and ro- 
 mance, becoming more marvellous at each step
 
 82 NOTES. 
 
 from its original simplicity, is not ill exemplified 
 in the account of the " Fated Chamber" of Don 
 Roderick, as given by his namesake, the histo- 
 rian of Toledo, contrasted with subsequent and 
 more romantic accounts of the same subterranean 
 discovery. I give the Archbishop of Toledo's 
 tale in the words of Nonius, who seems to inti- 
 mate, (though very modestly,) that xhe fatale 
 palatium, of which so much had been said, was 
 only the ruins of a Roman amphitheatre. 
 
 " Extra muros, septentrionem versus, vestigia 
 magni olim theatri sparsa visuntur. Auctor est 
 Rodericus Toletanus Archiepiscopus, ante Ara- 
 bum in Hispanias irruptionem, \i\cfatale palatium 
 fuisse ; quod invicti vectes, seterna ferri robora 
 claudebant, ne reseratum Hispaniae excidium 
 adferret ; quod in fatis non vulgus solum, sed et 
 prudentissimi quique credebant. Sed Roderici
 
 NOTES. 83 
 
 ultimi Gothorum Regis animum infelix curiositas 
 subiit, sciendi quid sub tot vetitis claustris ob- 
 servaretur ; ingentes ibi superioruin regum opes 
 et arcanos thesauros servari ratus. Seras et pes- 
 sulos perfringi curat, invitis omnibus, nihil praeter 
 arculara repertum, et in ea linteum, quo explicato 
 novae et insolentes hominum facies habitusque 
 apparuere, cum inscriptione Latina Hispanice 
 excidium ab ilia gente imminere ; Vultus habitus- 
 que Maurorum erant. Quamobrem ex Africa 
 tantam cladem instare regi caeterisque persua- 
 sum ; nee falso ut Hispaniae annales etiamnum 
 queruntur." — Hispania, Ludovic Nonij, cap. lix. 
 But about the term of the expulsion of the 
 Moors from Grenada, we find, in the " Historia 
 Verdadera del Rey DonRoderigo," a(pretended) 
 translation from the Arabic of the sage Alcayde 
 Abulcacim Tarif Abentarique, a legend which
 
 84 NOTES. 
 
 puts to shame the modesty of the historian Ro- 
 derick, with his chest and prophetic picture. The 
 custom of ascribing a pretended Moorish original 
 to these legendary histories, is ridiculed by Cer- 
 vantes, who affects to translate the history of the 
 Knight of the Woeful Figure, from the Arabic 
 of the sage Cid Hamet Benengeli. As I have 
 been indebted to the Historia Verdadera for some 
 of the imagery employed in the text, the follow- 
 ing literal translation from the work itself may 
 gratify the inquisitive reader : — 
 
 " One mile on the east side of the city of To- 
 ledo, among some rocks, was situated an ancient 
 tower, of magnificent structure, though much 
 dilapidated by time, which consumes all : four 
 estadoes, (i. e. four times a man's height,) below 
 it, there was a cave with a very narrow entrance, 
 and a gate cut out of the solid rock, lined with
 
 NOTES. 85 
 
 a strong covering of iron, and fastened with 
 many locks ; above the gate some Greek letters 
 are engraved, which, although abbreviated, and 
 of doubtful meaning, were thus interpreted, 
 according to the exposition of learned men : — 
 ' The king who opens this cave, and can discover 
 the wonders, will discover both good and evil 
 things/ Many kings desired to know the mys- 
 tery of this tower, and sought to find out the 
 manner with much care ; but when they opened 
 the gate, such a tremendous noise arose in the 
 cave, that it appeared as if the earth was burst- 
 ing ; many of those present sickened with fear, 
 and others lost their lives. In order to prevent 
 such great perils, (as they supposed a dangerous 
 enchantment was contained within,) they secured 
 the gate with new locks, concluding, that though 
 a king was destined to open it, the fated time
 
 86 NOTES. 
 
 was not yet arrived. At last King Don Rodrigo, 
 led on by his evil fortune and unlucky destiny, 
 opened the tower ; and some bold attendants 
 whom he had brought with him entered, al- 
 though agitated with fear. Having proceeded a 
 good way, they fled back to the entrance., ter- 
 rified with a frightful vision which they had be- 
 held. The king was greatly moved, and ordered 
 many torches, so contrived, that the tempest in 
 the cave could not extinguish them, to be lighted. 
 Then the king entered, not without fear, before 
 all the others. They discovered, by degrees, a 
 splendid hall, apparently built in a very sump- 
 tuous manner ; in the middle stood a Bronze 
 Statue of very ferocious appearance, which held 
 a battle-axe in its hands. With this he struck the 
 floor violently, giving it such heavy blows, that 
 the noise in the cave was occasioned by the mo-
 
 NOTES. 
 
 tion of the air. The king, greatly affrighted 
 and astonished, began to conjure this terrible 
 vision, promising that he would return without 
 doing any injury in the cave, after he had ob- 
 tained sight of what was contained in it. The 
 statue ceased to strike the floor, and the king, 
 with his followers, somewhat assured, and re- 
 covering their courage, proceeded into the hall; 
 and on the left of the statue they found this in- 
 scription on the wall : ' Unfortunate king, thou 
 hast entered here in evil hour.' On the right 
 side of the wall these words were inscribed, l By 
 strange nations thou shalt be dispossessed, and 
 thy subjects foully degraded.' On the shoulders 
 of the statue other words were written, which 
 said, ' I call upon the Arabs.' And upon his 
 breast was written, ' I do my office.' At the 
 entrance of the hall there was placed a round 
 
 M
 
 $s NOTES, 
 
 howl, from which a great noise, like the fall of 
 waters, proceeded. They found no other thing 
 in the hall ; and when the king, sorrowful and 
 greatly affected, had scarcely turned about to 
 leave the cavern, the statue again commenced 
 its accustomed blows upon the floor. After they 
 had mutually promised to conceal what they had 
 seen, they again closed the tower, and blocked 
 up the gate of the cavern with earth, that no 
 memory might remain in the world of such a 
 portentous and evil-boding prodigy. The ensu- 
 ing midnight they heard great cries and clamour 
 from the cave, resounding like the noise of bat- 
 tle, and the ground shaking with a tremendous 
 roar ; the whole edifice of the old tower fell to 
 the ground, by which they were greatly affright- 
 ed, the vision which they had beheld appearing 
 to them as a dream.
 
 NOTES. 89 
 
 " The king having left the tower, ordered wise 
 men to explain what the inscriptions signified ; 
 and having consulted upon and studied their 
 meaning, they declared that the statue of bronze, 
 with the motion which it made with its battle-axe, 
 signified Time ; and that its office, alluded to in 
 the inscription on his breast, was, that he never 
 rests a single moment. The words on the shoul- 
 ders, ' I call upon the Arabs,' they expounded, 
 that in time Spain would be conquered by the 
 Arabs. The words upon the left wall signified 
 the destruction of King Rodrigo ; those on the 
 right, the dreadful calamities which were to fall 
 upon the Spaniards and Goths, and that the un- 
 fortunate king would be dispossessed of all his 
 states. Finally, the letters on the portal indica- 
 ted, that good would betide to the conquerors, 
 and evil to the conquered, of which experience
 
 90 NOTES. 
 
 proved the truth." — Historia Verdadeyra del Rey 
 Don Rodrigo. Quinta impression. Madrid, 1654. 
 4. p. 23. 
 
 Note III. 
 the Tecbir war-cry and the Lelies yell. 
 
 St. XIX. p. 26. 
 
 The tecbir, (derived from the words Alia ac- 
 bar, God is most mighty,) was the original war- 
 cry of the Saracens. It is celebrated by Hughes 
 in the Siege of Damascus : 
 
 We heard the Tecbir ; so these Arabs call 
 Their shout of onset, when with loud appeal 
 They challenge heaven, as if demanding conquest. 
 
 The Lelie, well known to the Christians during 
 the crusades, is the shout of Alia ilia Alia, the 
 Mahomedan confession of faith. It is twice used 
 in poetry by my friend Mr W. Stuart Rose, in
 
 NOTES. 91 
 
 the Romance of Partenopex, and in the Crusade 
 of St Lewis. 
 
 Note IV. 
 
 By Heaven, the Moors prevail I — the Christians 
 yield ! — 
 
 Their coward leader gives for flight the sign ! 
 The sceptered craven mounts to quit the field — 
 
 Is not yon steed Orelia ? — Yes, 'tis mine ! 
 
 St. XXI. p. 27. 
 
 Count Julian, the father of the injured Flo- 
 rinda, with the connivance and assistance of 
 Oppas, Archbishop of Toledo, invited, in 713, the 
 Saracens into Spain. A considerable army ar- 
 rived under the command of Tarik, orTarif, who 
 bequeathed the well-known name of Gibraltar 
 (Gibel al Tarik, or the mountain of Tarik) to 
 the place of his landing. He was joined by
 
 92 NOTE S. 
 
 Count Julian, ravaged Andalusia, and took Se- 
 ville. In 714 tne y returned with a still greater 
 force, and Roderick marched into Andalusia at 
 the head of a great army to give them battle. 
 The field was chosen near Xeres, and Mariana 
 gives the following account of the action : 
 
 " Both armies being drawn up, the king, ac- 
 cording to the custom of the Gothic kings, when 
 they went to battle, appeared in an ivory chariot, 
 clothed in cloth of gold, encouraging his men ; 
 Tarif, on the other side, did the same. The armies 
 thus prepared, waited only for the signal to fall 
 on ; the Goths gave the charge, their drums and 
 trumpets sounding, and the Moors received it 
 with the noise of kettle-drums. Such were the 
 shouts and cries on both sides, that the mountains 
 and valleys seemed to meet. First they began 
 with slings, darts, javelins, and lances, then came
 
 NOTES. 93 
 
 to the swords ; a long time the battle was dubi- 
 ous ; but the Moors seemed to have the worst, 
 till D. Oppas, the Archbishop, having to that 
 time concealed his treachery, in the heat of the 
 fight, with a great body of his followers, went 
 over to the infidels. He joined Count Julian, 
 with whom was a great number of Goths, and 
 both together fell upon the flank of our army. 
 Our men, terrified with that unparalleled trea- 
 chery, and tired with fighting, could no longer 
 sustain that charge, but were easily put to flight. 
 The king performed the part not only of a wise 
 general, but of a resolute soldier, relieving the 
 weakest, bringing on fresh men in place of those 
 that were tired, and stopping those that turned 
 their backs. At length, seeing no hopes left, he 
 alighted out of his chariot for fear of being taken, 
 and mounting on a horse, called Orelia, he with-
 
 94 NOTES. 
 
 drew out of the battle. The Goths, who still 
 stood, missing him, were most part put to the 
 sword, the rest betook themselves to flight. The 
 camp was immediately entered, and baggage 
 taken. What number was killed is not known; 
 I suppose they were so many it was hard to 
 count them : for this single battle robbed Spain 
 of all its glory, and in it perished the renowned 
 name of the Goths. The king's horse, upper 
 garment, and buskins, covered with pearls and 
 precious stones, were found on the bank of the 
 river Guadelite, and there being no news of him 
 afterwards, it was supposed he was drowned pass- 
 ing the river." — Mariana's History of Spain, 
 book vi. chap. 9. 
 
 Orelia, the courser of Don Roderick, mention- 
 ed in the text, and in the above quotation, was 
 celebrated for her speed and form. She is men-
 
 NOTES. 9.5 
 
 tioned repeatedly in Spanish romance, and also 
 by Cervantes. 
 
 Note V. 
 When for the light Bolero ready stand, 
 The Mozo blithe with gay Muchacha met. 
 
 St. XXXIII. p. 35. 
 The Bolero is a very light and active dance, 
 much practised by the Spaniards, in which cas- 
 tanets are always used. Mozo and Muchacha are 
 equivalent to our phrase of lad and lass. 
 
 Note VI. 
 While trumpets rung, and heralds cried " Castile." 
 
 St. XLIII. p. 41. 
 The heralds at the coronation of a Spanish 
 monarch proclaim his name three times, and re- 
 peat three times the word Castilla, Castilla, Cos- 
 ts
 
 96 NOTES. 
 
 tilla ; which, with all other ceremonies, was care- 
 fully copied in the mock inauguration of Joseph 
 Buonaparte. 
 
 Note VII. 
 
 High blazed the war, and long, and far, and wide. 
 
 St. LVIII. p. 45. 
 Those who were disposed to believe that mere 
 virtue and energy are able of themselves to work 
 forth the salvation of an oppressed people, sur- 
 prised in a moment of confidence, deprived of 
 their officers, armies, and fortresses, who had 
 every means of resistance to seek in the very mo- 
 ment when they were to be made use of, and 
 whom the numerous treasons among the higher 
 orders deprived of confidence in their natural 
 leaders, — those who entertained this enthusiastic 
 but delusive opinion may be pardoned for ex-
 
 NOTES. 9? 
 
 pressing their disappointment at the protracted 
 warfare in the peninsula. There are, however, 
 another class of persons, who, having themselves 
 the highest dread or veneration, or something 
 allied to both, for the power of the modern At- 
 tila, will nevertheless give the heroical Spaniards 
 little or no credit for the long, stubborn, and un- 
 subdued resistance of three years to a power 
 before whom their former well-prepared, well- 
 armed, and numerous adversaries fell in the course 
 of as many months. While these gentlemen plead 
 for deference to Buonaparte, and crave 
 
 Respect for his great place — and bid the devil 
 Be duly honoured for his burning throne, 
 
 it may not be altogether unreasonable to claim 
 some modification of censure upon those who 
 have been long and to a great extent successful-
 
 98 NOTES. 
 
 ly resisting this great enemy of mankind. That 
 the energy of Spain has not uniformly been di- 
 rected by conduct equal to its vigour, has been 
 too obvious ; that her armies, under their com- 
 plicated disadvantages, have shared the fate of 
 such as were defeated after taking the field 
 with every possible advantage of arms and dis- 
 cipline, is surely not to be wondered at. But 
 that a nation, under the circumstances of repeat- 
 ed discomfiture, internal treason, and the mis- 
 management incident to a temporary and hastily- 
 adopted government, should have wasted, by its 
 stubborn, uniform, and prolonged resistance, my- 
 riads after myriads of those soldiers who had 
 overrun the world — that some of its provinces 
 should, like Galicia, after being abandoned by 
 their allies, and overrun by their enemies, have 
 recovered their freedom by their own unassisted
 
 NOTES. 99 
 
 exertions — that others, like Catalonia, undismay- 
 ed by the treason which betrayed some for- 
 tresses, and the force which subdued others, 
 should not only have continued their resistance, 
 but have attained over their victorious enemy a 
 superiority, which is even now enabling them to 
 besiege and retake the places of strength which 
 had been wrested from them, is a tale hitherto 
 untold in the revolutionary war. To say that 
 such a people cannot be subdued, would be pre- 
 sumption similar to that of those who protested 
 that Spain could not defend herself for a year, or 
 Portugal for a month ; but that a resistance which 
 has been continued for so long a space, when 
 the usurper, except during the short-lived Aus- 
 trian campaign, had no other enemies on the 
 continent, should be now less successful, when 
 repeated defeats have broken the reputation of 
 the French armies, and when they are likely (it 
 
 12
 
 100 NOTES. 
 
 would seem almost in desperation) to seek occu- 
 pation elsewhere, is a prophecy as improbable as 
 ungracious. And while we are in the humour of 
 severely censuring our allies, gallant and devoted 
 as they have shewn themselves in the cause of 
 national liberty, because they may not instantly 
 adopt those measures which we in our wisdom 
 may deem essential to success, it might be well, if 
 we endeavoured first to resolve the previous ques- 
 tions, — 1st, Whether we do not at this moment 
 know much less of the Spanish armies than of 
 those of Portugal, which were so promptly con- 
 demned as totally inadequate to assist in the 
 preservation of their country? 2d, Whether, in- 
 dependently of any right we have to offer more 
 than advice and assistance to our independent 
 allies, we can expect that they should renounce 
 entirely the national pride, which is inseparable 
 from patriotism, and at once condescend not on-
 
 NOTES. 101 
 
 ly to be saved by our assistance, but to be saved 
 in our own way ? 3d, Whether, if it be an ob- 
 ject, (as undoubtedly it is a main one,) that the 
 Spanish troops should be trained under British 
 discipline, to the flexibility of movement, and 
 power of rapid concert and combination, which 
 is essential to modern war ; such a consumma- 
 tion is likely to be produced by abusing them in 
 newspapers and periodical publications ? Lastly, 
 Since the undoubted authority of British officers 
 makes us now acquainted with part of the hor- 
 rors that attend invasion, and which the Provi- 
 dence of God, the valour of our navy, ami per- 
 haps the very efforts of these Spaniards, have 
 hitherto diverted from us, it may be modestly 
 questioned whether we ought to be too forward 
 to estimate and condemn the feeling of tempo- 
 rary stupefaction which they create ; lest, in so
 
 102 NOTES. 
 
 doing, we should resemble the worthy clergy- 
 man, who, while he had himself never snuffed a 
 candle with his fingers, was disposed severely to 
 criticise the conduct of a martyr who winced a 
 little among his flames. 
 
 Note VIII. 
 Tliey won not Zaragoza, but her children's bloody 
 tomb. — St. LI. p. 47. 
 The interesting account of Mr Vaughan has 
 made most readers acquainted with the first siege 
 of Zaragoza. The last and fatal siege of that gal- 
 lant alid devoted city is detailed with great elo- 
 quence and precision in the " Edinburgh Annual 
 Register" for 1809, — a work in which the affairs 
 of Spain have been treated of with attention 
 corresponding to their deep interest, and to the 
 peculiar sources of information open to the his-
 
 NOTES. 103 
 
 torian. The following are a few brief extracts 
 from this splendid historical narrative : — 
 
 " A breach was soon made in the mud walls, 
 and then, as in the former siege, the war was 
 carried on in the streets and houses ; but the 
 French had been taught by experience, that in 
 this species of warfare the Zaragozans derived a 
 superiority from the feeling and principle which 
 inspired them, and the cause for which they 
 fought. The only means of conquering Zara- 
 goza was to destroy it house by house, and street 
 by street, and upon this system of destruction 
 they proceeded. Three companies of miners 
 and eight companies of sappers carried on this 
 subterraneous war ; the Spaniards, it is said, at- 
 tempted to oppose them by countermines : these 
 were operations to which they were wholly un- 
 used, and, according to the French statement. 
 
 o
 
 104 NOTES. 
 
 their miners were every clay discovered and suf- 
 focated. Meantime the bombardment was in- 
 cessantly kept up. e Within the last 48 hours/ 
 said Palafox, in a letter to his friend General 
 Doyle, ' 6000 shells have been thrown in, two- 
 thirds of the town are in ruins, but we shall 
 perish under the ruins of the remaining third, 
 rather than surrender/ In the course of the 
 siege above 17,000 bombs were thrown at the 
 town ; the stock of powder with which Zaragoza 
 had been stored was exhausted ; they had none 
 at last, but what they manufactured day by day ; 
 and no other cannon-balls than those which were 
 shot into the town, and which they collected 
 
 and fired back upon the enemy." 
 
 In the midst of these horrors and privations, the 
 pestilence broke out in Zaragoza. To various 
 causes, enumerated by the annalist, he adds,
 
 NOTES. 105 
 
 " scantiness of food, crowded quarters, unusual 
 exertion of body, anxiety of mind, and the im- 
 possibility of recruiting their exhausted strength 
 by needful rest in a city which was almost in- 
 cessantly bombarded, and where every hour their 
 sleep was broken by the tremendous explosion 
 of mines. There was now no respite, either by 
 day or night, for this devoted city ; even the na- 
 tural order of light and darkness was destroyed 
 in Zaragoza ; by day it was involved in a red 
 sulphureous atmosphere of smoke, which hid the 
 face of heaven ; by night the fire of cannons and 
 mortars, and the flames of burning houses, kept 
 it in a state of terrific illumination." 
 
 " When once the pestilence had begun it was 
 impossible to check its progress, or confine it to 
 one quarter of the city. Hospitals were imme- 
 diately established, — there were above thirty of
 
 106 NOTES. 
 
 them ; as soon as one was destroyed by the 
 bombardment, the patients were removed to ano- 
 ther, and thus the infection was carried to every 
 part of Zaragoza. Famine aggravated the evil ; 
 the city had probably not been sufficiently pro- 
 vided at the commencement of the siege, and of 
 the provisions which it contained, much was de- 
 stroyed in the daily ruin which the mines and 
 bombs effected. Had the Zaragozans and their 
 garrison proceeded according to military rules, 
 they would have surrendered before the end of 
 January ; their batteries had then been demo- 
 lished, there were open breaches in many parts 
 of their weak walls, and the enemy were already 
 within the city. On the 30th above sixty houses 
 were blown up, and the French obtained posses- 
 sion of the monasteries of the Augustines and 
 Las Monicas, which adjoined each other, two of
 
 NOTES. 107 
 
 the last defensible places left. The enemy forced 
 their way into the church ; every column, every 
 chapel, every altar, became a point of defence, 
 which was repeatedly attacked, taken, and re- 
 taken ; the pavement was covered with blood, 
 the aisles and body of the church strewed with 
 the dead, who were trampled under foot by the 
 combatants. In the midst of this conflict, the 
 roof, shattered by repeated bombs, fell in ; the 
 few who were not crushed, after a short pause, 
 which this tremendous shock and their own un- 
 expected escape occasioned, renewed the fight 
 with rekindling fury : fresh parties of the enemy 
 poured in ; monks, and citizens, and soldiers 
 came to the defence, and the contest was conti- 
 nued upon the ruins, and the bodies of the dead 
 
 and the dying." 
 
 Yet, seventeen days after sustaining these ex- 
 
 9
 
 ,08 NOTES. 
 
 tremitieSj did the heroic inhabitants of Zaragoza 
 continue their defence, nor did they then surrender 
 until their despair had extracted from the French 
 generals a capitulation, more honourable than 
 has been granted to fortresses of the first order. 
 Who shall venture to refuse the Zaragozans 
 the eulogium conferred on them by the eloquence 
 of Wordsworth ! — " Most gloriously have the 
 citizens of Zaragoza proved that the true army 
 of Spain, in a contest of this nature, is the whole 
 people. The same city has also exemplified a 
 melancholy, yea, a dismal truth, — yet consola- 
 tory and full of joy, — that, when a people are 
 called suddenly to fight for their liberty, and are 
 sorely pressed upon, their best field of battle is 
 the floors upon which their children have played ; 
 the chambers where the family of each man has 
 slept (his own or his neighbours' ;) upon or un-
 
 NOTES. 109 
 
 der the roofs by which they have been sheltered ; 
 in the gardens of their recreation ; in the street, 
 or in the market-place ; before the altars of their 
 temples, and among their congregated dwellings, 
 blazing, or up-rooted. 
 
 " The government of Spain must never forget 
 Zaragoza for a moment. Nothing is wanting to 
 produce the same effects every where, bat a lead- 
 ing mind, such as that city was blessed with. In 
 the latter contest this has been proved ; for Za- 
 ragoza contained, at that time, bodies of men 
 from almost all parts of Spain. The narrative 
 of those two sieges should be the manual of every 
 Spaniard. He may add to it the ancient stories 
 of Numantia and Saguntum ; let him sleep upon 
 the book as a pillow, and, if he be a devout ad- 
 herent to the religion of his country, let him wear 
 it in his bosom for his crucifix to rest upon."
 
 HO NOTES. 
 
 Note IX. 
 
 the Vault of Destiny. — St. LXIII. p. 55. 
 
 Before finally dismissing the enchanted cavern 
 of Don Roderick, it may be noticed, that the le- 
 gend occurs in one of Calderon's plays, entitled, 
 La Virgen del Sagrario. The scene opens with the 
 noise of the chase, and Recisundo, a predecessor 
 of Roderick upon the Gothic throne, enters pur- 
 suing a stag. The animal assumes the form of a 
 man, and defies the king to enter the cave, which 
 forms the bottom of the scene, and engage with 
 him in single combat. The king accepts the chal- 
 lenge, and they engage accordingly, but without 
 advantage on either side, which induces the Genie 
 to inform Recisundo, that he is not the monarch 
 for whom the adventure of the enchanted cavern 
 is reserved, and he proceeds to predict the down-
 
 NOTES. in 
 
 fal of the Gothic monarchy, and of the Christian 
 religion, which shall attend the discovery of its 
 mysteries. Recisundo, appalled by these pro- 
 phecies, orders the cavern to be secured by a 
 gate and bolts of iron. In the second part of 
 the same play we are informed, that Don Ro- 
 derick had removed the barrier and transgressed 
 the prohibition of his ancestor, and had been ap- 
 prized by the prodigies which he discovered of 
 the approaching ruin of his kingdom.
 
 NOTES ON THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 Note I. 
 While downward on the land his legions press, 
 
 Before them it was rich with vine and Jloch, 
 And smiled like Eden in her summer dress; — 
 
 Behind their wasteful march , a reeking wilderness. 
 
 St. II. p. 58. 
 
 I have ventured to apply to the movements 
 of the French army that sublime passage in the 
 prophecies of Joel, which seems applicable to 
 them in more respects than that I have adopted 
 in the text. One would think their ravages, 
 their military appointments, the terror which
 
 114 NOTES. 
 
 they spread among invaded nations, their mili- 
 tary discipline, their arts of political intrigue and 
 deceit, were distinctly pointed out in the follow- 
 ng verses of Scripture : — 
 
 2. " A day of darknesse and of gloominesse, 
 a day of clouds and of thick darknesse, as the 
 morning spread upon the mountains : a great 
 people and a strong, there hath not been ever 
 the like, neither shall be any more after it, even 
 to the yeares of many generations. 
 
 3. "A fire devoureth before them, and behind 
 them a flame burneth : the land is as the garden 
 of Eden before them, and behinde them a diso- 
 late wildernesse, yea, and nothing shall escape 
 them. 
 
 4. " The appearance of them is as the appear- 
 ance of horses and as horsemen, so shall they 
 runne.
 
 NOTES. 115 
 
 5. " Like the noise of chariots on the tops of 
 mountains shall they leap, like the noise of a 
 flame of fire that devoureth the stubble, as a 
 strong people set in battell array. 
 
 6. " Before their face the people shall be much 
 pained : all faces shall gather blacknesse. 
 
 7. " They shall run like mighty men, they shall 
 climbe the wall like men of warre, and they shall 
 march every one in his wayes, and they shall not 
 break their ranks. 
 
 8. " Neither shall one thrust another, they shall 
 walk every one in his path : and when they fall 
 upon the sword they shall not be wounded. 
 
 9. " They shall run to and fro in the citie : 
 they shall run upon the wall, they shall climbe 
 up upon the houses : they shall enter in at the 
 windows like a thief. 
 
 10. " The earth shall quake before them, the
 
 HG NOTES. 
 
 heavens shall tremble, the sunne and the moon 
 shall be dark, and the starres shall withdraw 
 their shining." 
 
 In verse 20th also, which announces the retreat 
 of the northern army, described in such dread- 
 ful colours, into a " land barren and desolate," 
 and the dishonour with which God afflicted them 
 for having " magnified themselves to do great 
 things," there are particulars not inapplicable to 
 the retreat of Massena ; Divine Providence ha- 
 ving, in all ages, attached disgrace as the natu- 
 ral punishment of cruelty and presumption. 
 
 Note II. 
 The rudest centinel, in Britain born, 
 Gave his poor crust to feed some -wretch forlorn. 
 
 St. VII. p. 61. 
 Even the unexampled gallantry of the British
 
 NOTES. 117 
 
 army in the campaign of 1810-11, although they 
 never fought but to conquer, will do them less 
 honour in history than their humanity, attentive 
 to soften to the utmost of their power the horrors 
 which war, in its mildest aspect, must always in- 
 flict upon the defenceless inhabitants of the coun- 
 try in which it is waged, and which, on this oc- 
 casion, were tenfold augmented by the barbarous 
 cruelties of the French. Soup-kitchens were 
 established by subscription among the officers, 
 wherever the troops were quartered for any 
 length of time. The commissaries contributed 
 the heads, feet, &c. of the cattle slaughtered for 
 the soldiery ; rice, vegetables, and bread where 
 it could be had, were purchased by the officers. 
 Fifty or sixty starving peasants were daily fed 
 at one of these regimental establishments, and 
 carried home the reliques to their famished house-
 
 118 NOTES. 
 
 holds. The emaciated wretches, who could not 
 crawl from weakness, were speedily employed in 
 pruning their vines. While pursuing Massena, 
 the soldiers evinced the same spirit of humanity, 
 and, in many instances, when reduced themselves 
 to short allowance, from having out-marched their 
 supplies, they shared their pittance with the 
 starving inhabitants who had ventured back to 
 view the ruins of their habitations, burned by 
 the retreating enemy, and to bury the bodies of 
 their relations whom they had butchered. Is it 
 possible to know such facts without feeling a 
 sort of confidence, that those who so well deserve 
 victory are most likely to attain it ? — It is not 
 the least of Lord Wellington's military merits, 
 that the slightest disposition towards marauding 
 meets immediate punishment. Independently of 
 all moral obligation, the army which is most or-
 
 NOTES. 119 
 
 derly in a friendly country, has always proved 
 most formidable to an armed enemy. 
 
 Note III. 
 vain-glorious Fugitive ! — St. VIII. p. 62. 
 
 The French conducted this memorable retreat 
 with much of the faiifarronade proper to their 
 country, by which they attempt to impose upon 
 others, and perhaps on themselves, a belief that 
 they are triumphing in the very moment of their 
 discomfiture. On the 30th May, 181 1, their rear 
 guard was overtaken near Pega by the British 
 cavalry. Being well posted, and conceiving them- 
 selves safe from infantry, (who were indeed many 
 miles in the rear,) and from artillery, they indul- 
 ged themselves in parading their bands of music, 
 and actually performed " God save the King." 
 Their minstrelsy was however deranged by the 
 
 Q
 
 120 NOTES. 
 
 undesired accompaniment of the British horse- 
 artillery, on whose part in the concert they had 
 not calculated. The surprise was sudden, and 
 the rout complete ; for the artillery and cavalry 
 did execution upon them for about four miles, 
 pursuing at the gallop as often as they got be- 
 yond the range of the guns. 
 
 i 
 
 Note IV. 
 Vainly thy squadrons hide Assuavds plain, 
 
 And front thejlying thunders as they roar, 
 With frantic charge and tenfold odds, in vain ! 
 
 St. X. p. 63. 
 In the severe action of Fuentes d'Honoro, up- 
 on 5th May, 1811, the grand mass of the French 
 cavalry attacked the right of the British position, 
 covered by two guns of the horse-artillery and 
 two squadrons of cavalry. After suffering con-
 
 NOTES. 121 
 
 siderably from the fire of the guns, which annoyed 
 them in every attempt to formation, the enemy 
 turned their wrath entirely towards them, distri- 
 buted brandy among their troopers, and advan- 
 ced to carry the field-pieces with the desperation 
 of drunken fury. They were in no ways check- 
 ed by the heavy loss which they sustained in this 
 daring attempt, but closed, and fairly mingled 
 with the British cavalry, to whom they bore the 
 proportion of ten to one. Captain Ramsay, (let 
 me be permitted to name a gallant countryman,) 
 who commanded the two guns, dismissed them 
 at the gallop, and, putting himself at the head 
 of the mounted artillerymen, ordered them to 
 fall upon the French, sabre-in-hand. This very 
 unexpected conversion of artillerymen into dra- 
 goons contributed greatly to the defeat of the 
 enemy, already disconcerted by the reception
 
 122 NOTES. 
 
 they had met from the two British squadrons ; 
 and the appearance of some small reinforcements, 
 notwithstanding the immense disproportion of 
 force, put them to absolute rout. A colonel or 
 major of their cavalry, and many prisoners (al- 
 most all intoxicated) remained in our possession. 
 Those who consider for a moment the difference 
 of the services, and how much an artilleryman is 
 necessarily and naturally led to identify his own 
 safety and utility with abiding by the tremendous 
 implement of war, to the exercise of which he 
 is chiefly, if not exclusively, trained, will know 
 how to estimate the presence of mind which 
 commanded so bold a manoeuvre, and the steadi- 
 ness and confidence with which it was executed. 
 
 12
 
 NOTES. 12s 
 
 Note V. 
 And what avails thee that, for Cameron slain, 
 
 Wild from his plaided ranks the yell was given — 
 
 St. X. p. 63. 
 
 The gallant Colonel Cameron was wounded 
 mortally during the desperate contest in the 
 streets of the village called Fuentes d'Honoro. 
 He fell at the head of his native Highlanders, 
 the 71st and 79th, who raised a dreadful shriek 
 of grief and rage. They charged, with irresistible 
 fury, the finest body of French grenadiers ever 
 seen, being a part of Buonaparte's selected guard. 
 The officer who led the French, a man remark- 
 able for stature and symmetry, was killed on the 
 spot. The Frenchman who stepped out of his 
 rank to take aim at Colonel Cameron, was also 
 bayonetted, pierced with a thousand wounds,
 
 124 NOTES. 
 
 and almost torn to pieces by the furious High- 
 landers, who, under the command of Colonel 
 Cadogan, bore the enemy out of the contested 
 ground at the point of the bayonet. Massena 
 pays my countrymen a singular compliment in 
 his account of the attack and defence of this vil- 
 lage, in which, he says, the British lost many 
 officers, and Scotch, 
 
 Note VI. 
 who shall grudge him Albuerds bays, 
 
 Who brought a race regenerate to the field, 
 Housed them to emulate their fathers praise, 
 Temper * d their headlong rage, their courage steel 'd. 
 
 St. XIV. p. 66. 
 
 Nothing during the war of Portugal seems, to 
 
 a distinct observer, more deserving of praise, than 
 
 the self-devotion of Field-Marshal Beresford, who
 
 NOTES. 125 
 
 was contented to undertake all the hazard of ob- 
 loquy which might have been founded upon any 
 miscarriage in the highly-important experiment 
 of training the Portugueze troops to an improved 
 state of discipline. In exposing his military re- 
 putation to the censure of imprudence from the 
 most moderate, and all manner of unutterable 
 calumnies from the ignorant and malignant, he 
 placed at stake the dearest pledge which a mili- 
 tary man had to offer, and nothing but the 
 deepest conviction of the high and essential im- 
 portance attached to success can be supposed an 
 adequate motive. How great the chance of mis- 
 carriage was supposed, may be estimated from 
 the general opinion of officers of unquestioned 
 talents and experience, possessed of every oppor- 
 tunity of information, — how completely the ex- 
 periment has succeeded, and how much the spirit
 
 126 NOTES. 
 
 and patriotism of our ancient allies had been un- 
 der-rated, is evident, not only from those victories 
 in which they have borne a distinguished share, 
 but from the liberal and highly honourable man- 
 ner in which these opinions have been retracted. 
 The success of this plan, with all its important 
 consequences, we owe to the indefatigable exer- 
 tions of Field-Marshal Beresford. 
 
 Note VII. 
 
 a race renowned of old, 
 
 Wlwse war-cry oft has waked the battle-swell. 
 
 St. XVII. p. 68. 
 
 This stanza alludes to the various achievements 
 
 of the warlike family of Graeme, or Grahame. 
 
 They are said, by tradition, to have descended 
 
 from the Scottish chief, under whose command
 
 NOTES. 127 
 
 his countrymen stormed the wall built by the 
 Emperor Severus between the firths of Forth 
 and Clyde, the fragments of which are still po- 
 pularly called Graeme's Dyke. Sir John the 
 Grahame, " the hardy wight, and wise," is well 
 known as the friend of Sir William Wallace, 
 Alderne, Kilsyth, and Tibbermuir, were scenes 
 of the victories of the heroic Marquis of Mon- 
 trose. The pass of Killy-crankie is famous for 
 the action between King William's forces and 
 the Highlanders in 1689, 
 
 " Where glad Dundee in faint huzzas expired." 
 
 It is seldom that one line can number so many 
 heroes, and yet more rare when it can appeal to 
 the glory of a living descendant in support of its 
 ancient renown. The allusions to the private 
 history and character of General Grahame may 
 
 R
 
 128 NOTES. 
 
 be illustrated by referring to the eloquent and 
 affecting speech of Mr Sheridan, upon the vote 
 of thanks to the Victor of Barosa. 
 
 THE END OF DON RODERICK
 
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