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WELLINGTON: 
 
 M Poem, 
 
 IN THREE CANTOS. 
 
 WITH 
 
 :al an explanatory. 
 
 BY PHILIP DIXON HARDY, OF DUBLIN. 
 
 . T y of Con i<v 
 V 
 
 4 C •'"'' ■".' 
 
 •^of'Wasbit* 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR, 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY KENT CAUSTON, BIRCHIN-LANE, CORNHILL; 
 
 MAY BE HAD OF 
 T. EGERTON, CHARING-CROSS ; C. CHAPPLE, PALL-MALL ; SHERWOOD, AND CO. 
 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW ; 
 
 C. P. ARCHER, DUBLIN, 
 
 AND ALL BOOKSELLERS. 
 
 1814. 
 
Y\ 
 
 + cs 
 
Wfyt fcllotomg potm 
 
 IS DEDICATED, 
 BY HIS MOST GRACIOUS PERMISSION, 
 
 CO 
 HIS EXCELLENCY 
 
 LORD WHITWORTH, 
 
 LORD LIEUTENANT-GENERAL, 
 
 GOVERNOR-GENERAL OF IRELAND, 
 K. B. S?c. $c. $c. 
 
 BY 
 
 HIS MUCH OBLIGED, 
 
 MOST DEVOTED HUMBLE SERVANT, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 14, King-Street, Stephen' s-Green, 
 Dublin. 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 J.N giving publicity to the following Poem, the Author feels no 
 common share of that diffidence which it is natural to suppose must 
 be experienced by persons thus obtruding on public notice. He had 
 long waited in anxious expectation of seeing something on the same 
 subject make its appearance ; but without having his wishes rea- 
 lised. It was written immediately after the British army crossed 
 the Bidasoa, but the Author refrained from publishing it, still 
 cherishing the idea that a bolder pen would do justice to so bold a 
 subject, being well aware that there is sufficient scope for the 
 farthest stretch of the Poet's imagination. Conscious of its mani- 
 fold imperfections, and knowing that it wants, in a great degree, 
 that labor limse which is the life and soul of poetry, the Author 
 would not have allowed it to meet the public eye, were it not that he 
 hopes thereby to arouse the " Harp of Erin" from its slumber, to 
 swell the praises of him who is the admiration of the world, and the 
 glory of the British Isles. If, however, it should give the smallest 
 pleasure or satisfaction to the gallant General, an epitome of 
 whose life he has taken the liberty of sketching, and which he 
 would beg of him to receive as the heartfelt effusions of a youthful 
 pen, he will have obtained a greater reward than he ever had the 
 vanity to flatter himself would be given him. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 if EAR Western Isle, whose sea-girt shore 
 
 Re-echoes loud old Ocean's roar, 
 
 Whose light green bosom opes to view 
 
 Rude hills and dales of verdant hue ; 
 
 Where fragments still majestic stand, 5 
 
 (Though much impaired by time's rude hand,) 
 
 Of castles, battlements, and towers, 
 
 Where first the Anglo-Norman powers, 
 
 When forced by Brian* and his band, 
 
 Thy patriot sons, to make a stand, 10 
 
 * One of the kings of Ulster. 
 B 
 
2 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Sought safety from the vengeful rage 
 
 Of fiercest war he vowed to wage, 
 
 'Gainst every lawless miscreant host 
 
 Who dared to venture on thy coast ; 
 
 And still present an emblem wild, 15 
 
 (Though now in heaps of ruin piled,) 
 
 That Erin's isle could once defy 
 
 For feats of arms and chivalry, 
 
 Old England, and her partizans, 
 
 The boldest of the Scottish clans, 20 
 
 Who oft to gain her pebbly shore, 
 
 Unfurled the sail, and plied the oar. 
 
 There Kings and Princes drew their breath, 
 
 There many a warrior met his death, 
 
 And blind tradition still can tell 25 
 
 Where gallant Chieftains fought and fell ; 
 
 And oft at midnight's sacred hour, 
 
 From some old ivy-crusted tower, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Where fairies gather from their cells, 
 
 To work their airy mystic spells, 30 
 
 The bugle sounding shrill and clear, 
 
 Strikes on the lonely traveller's ear, 
 
 Who, while he stops and stares around. 
 
 Sees the fleet shade, and hears the sound 
 
 Of horsemen wheeling to and fro, 35 
 
 Who form in squadrons as they go, 
 
 And round a green striped banner move. 
 
 Their motto " Liberty and Love" 
 
 Yes, JErifiy these once graced thy plains, 
 Thy glowing blood once fill'd their veins, 40 
 
 And still their spirits hover near, 
 To guard thine Isle to them yet dear. 
 But though thou may'st with triumph boast, 
 
 Of Warrior Chiefs a mighty host, 
 
 b % 
 
4 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 As ever rais'd a nation's fame, 45 
 
 Or gave to monarchy a name ; 
 
 Yet while we view thy matchless son, 
 
 The all-victorious Wellington, 
 
 They only shed a pallid ray, 
 
 And as a meteor fade away. 50 
 
 But where are flown thy sons of song, 
 Why are thy minstrels mute so long, . 
 When Wellington the lay invites, 
 His glorious deeds and gallant lights? 
 Is Erin's dulcet harp unstrung, 55 
 
 Or on the bending willows hung, 
 Which once to deeds of war struck bold, 
 And of its gallant warriors told ? 
 Or have the Critic Harpies torn 
 From off their brow the laurel worn 60 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 For ages past, with honor fair, 
 
 And left pale envy's stigma there ? 
 
 Or do they mourn their Nobles flown, 
 
 Who blush their native land to own, 
 
 Who leave their once paternal spot, 45 
 
 The ancient dome, the rural grot, 
 
 The honored roof of former times, 
 
 To wander to far distant climes ; 
 
 Though beauty spreads her fairest spells, 
 
 And love her sweetest music swells, 50 
 
 To woo them to the grateful shade 
 
 Which friendship, love, and truth have made. 
 
 For these, with native, glowing fire, 
 Thy bards refuse to strike the lyre, 
 Nor e'er in sweetly flowing verse, 55 
 
 Are heard thy battles to rehearse; 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 But when they strike a mournful strain, 
 In swelling pathos thus complain : — 
 
 " Once Uriris powerful name was feared 
 " Where'er her deeds of fame were heard, 60 
 
 " Once have her banners proud unfurl'd 
 " Defiance to a hostile world ; 
 " For freemen's rights her sons have fought, 
 " And with their blood her freedom bought ; 
 " But by a base rebellion riven, 65 
 
 " She feels th' avenging hand of Heaven, 
 " While false religion's discords rend 
 " Brother from brother, friend from friend. 
 " Albion has now to stretch her hand 
 " To guard the once high crested land, 70 
 
 c * Whose warriors in the tented field, 
 " The victor's trophies ne'er would yield, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 u 
 
 Who Erin's rights and laws to save, 
 " Their swords in foeman's blood would lave, 
 " Who to protect the Emerald Isle, 75 
 
 " Would meet death's terrors with a smile." 
 
 Ierne weeps — forced by despair, 
 Her harp she flung into the air ; 
 Nor is it ever heard to sound, 
 
 Save when in sympathy profound 80 
 
 It strikes a note or cadence wild, 
 As when some fanning zephyr mild 
 Doth o'er the harp of iEoL stray, 
 Which sounds a chord, then dies away. 
 Yet shall that harp refuse to tell 85 
 
 The praise of him she loves so well ? 
 No — its vibrations sweet shall thrill, 
 Swelling the cadence louder still, 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Till other nations catch the strain, 
 
 And sound the chorus back again. 90 
 
 Yes — though her minstrels still shall mourn 
 The u days which never can return," 
 When Erin, " Nature's favorite child,* 
 Though yet uncultivated, wild, 
 Could boast her children artless, mild ; J 95 
 
 When love and valor was the crest 
 Each chieftain wore upon his breast, 
 And but to save their native land 
 From base marauder's coward hand, 
 Never had drawn the gleaming brand ; ) 100 
 
 Ere foreign foe, impell'd by fate, 
 Had sown the seeds of discord, hate ; 
 And save by some old wandering Bard, 
 Of civil feuds her sons had heard ; 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 When every breast could feel a glow, 105 
 
 And share and weep another's woe ; 
 
 And like the shamrock, wild and free, 
 
 Reigned " god-like hospitality." 
 
 Yes — though they still may mourn those days, 
 
 When loudest thrill'd their touching lays, 110 
 
 Yet ere they sink in endless night, 
 
 Or clouds of death obscure their sight, 
 
 Let one bright gleam — one transient ray, 
 
 Their soul-reviving power display, 
 
 And like the Bards in days of old, 115 
 
 Pour forth a strain, melodious, bold, 
 
 To tell the valor of her son, 
 
 To speak the praise of Wellington. 
 
 Thus the fine form who once was held 
 The sprightliest on the sportive field, 120 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 On death's hard pallet now reclining, 
 
 'Neath many a pang of anguish twining, 
 
 While oft before his glistening eyes 
 
 Life's chequer'd scene in image flies, 
 
 On some bright day of pleasure dwells, 125 
 
 With joys long fled his bosom swells, 
 
 While o'er his many griefs and woes 
 
 Fond Hope her pleasing magic throws, 
 
 Starts from the couch with youthful bound, 
 
 And rides in thought the well-known ground, 130 
 
 O'er many a dang'rous pass and fen, 
 
 He dreams, he thinks he leaps again. 
 
 So Erin's bards, reviv'd by hope, 
 With " Erin's bards of old" shall cope> 
 And seize the harp, and swell a note 135 
 
 Which o'er old Ocean's wave shall float, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 Till Albion, raptured by the sound, 
 
 Shall spread the joyful theme around, 
 
 Till distant nations, wond'ring, raise 
 
 To JEriris son the song of praise. 140 
 
 While now I touch the trembling lyre, 
 May Wellington the theme inspire, 
 The feeble numbers teach to roll, 
 To sound his fame from pole to pole; 
 (If by a harp so rudely strung "}145 
 
 His native mountain-wilds among 
 His deeds of victory may be sung.) 
 
 c 2 
 
WELLINGTON. 
 
 &mto &ix$t 
 
 J_ HE age of chivalry had pass'd 
 
 Like a tornado's sweeping blast, 
 
 While time's revolving wheels had roll'd 
 
 O'er heros true, o'er warriors bold, 
 
 And trackless as the fleeting wind, 5 
 
 Nor left one glimmering ray behind, 
 
 To point the man who nobly sought 
 
 By every act, in every thought, 
 
 With glorious and unsullied name, 
 
 To scale the pyramid of fame ; 10 
 
14 WELLINGTON. 
 
 As if a lethargy profound 
 Each virtue of the warrior bound, 
 Honor and courage lay in chains, 
 And lust and passion held the reins. 
 
 The Gods displeas'd to see a race, 15 
 
 Who once reflected every grace, 
 Thus by the demon passions hurl'd, 
 To chaos or the nether world, 
 In conclave met, resolve to send, 
 
 And search the earth's remotest end, 20 
 
 A youth of manly form to find, 
 In whose capacious, glowing mind, 
 And heart as saphire pure and bright, 
 From Heaven's effulgent rays they might 
 As in a central point combine 25 
 
 Each virtue human and divine; 
 
CANTO FIRST. 15 
 
 As when the sun through convex glass 
 
 In gathered lines is made to pass, 
 
 And thus confined, its lambent rays 
 
 Emit one fulminating blaze. 30 
 
 Fair Wisdom's Goddess now descends, 
 To eastern climes her chariot bends, 
 Where, though she finds the warrior's breast 
 By seeming truth and love possess'd, 
 Yet in each dark and gloomy mind 35 
 
 Deceit and treach'ry were combin'd. 
 The Goddess speeds her mazy way 
 The wide-spread Cont'nent to survey, 
 From where the icy monarch reigns 
 To old Iberia's fertile plains ; 40 
 
 But still in vain the youth she sought, 
 Each nation had its favorite fault. 
 
16 WELLINGTON. 
 
 At length she reached old Erin's isle, 
 Where fraud nor treachery beguile, 
 And led by fate's unerring power 45 
 
 Where Dangan-castle turrets tower, 
 Whose copious hall, with arches bent, 
 Once ope'd to tilt and tournament, 
 Where a broad lake, whose crystal streams 
 Refulgent spread the solar beams, 50 
 
 In mazy windings steals along 
 The close-leaf 'd shamrock banks among, 
 She finds a youth whose gen'rous heart 
 Nor falsehood knew, nor guileful art, 
 His embryo mind she quick survey'd, 55 
 
 Nor saw one dark or sullied shade; 
 But like the dawn of morning grey, 
 Still verging on to perfect day ; 
 Or as the faintly-blushing rose 
 Around its bud a cov'ring throws, 60 
 
CANTO FIRST. 17 
 
 Nor will its latent beauties show 
 Till genial seasons make it blow. 
 
 To regions of etherial light, 
 Her fiery coursers speed their flight; 
 Each Deity approves the choice, 65 
 
 And in one loud re-echoed voice 
 T'immortalize and spread his fame, 
 Him " Wellington the great" they name; 
 Of Wellington each Goddess sings, 
 And with his name the concave rings. 70 
 
 And now the youthful hero roves 
 Through Erudition's sacred groves, 
 And with a scientific hand, 
 Culls each choice flower by genius fann'd ; 
 Nor can unceasing toil of books, 75 
 
 Unnerve his mind, or change his looks; 
 
 D 
 
18 WELLINGTON. 
 
 But as the tender sapling laid, 
 
 To form a canopy or shade, 
 
 Nor breaks, nor snaps, but yields with ease 
 
 To shape or form designed to please, 80 
 
 So to the labour he inclines, 
 
 And pleasure still with toil combines. 
 
 His lambent genius soon appears 
 
 Expanding with increasing years ; 
 
 Yet while his study he pursues, 85 
 
 With prophet's eye the hero views 
 
 The then far distant scene of war, 
 
 And sighs to mount the blood-stain d car. 
 
 Now o'er old Eton's heights sublime 
 With giant strides behold him climb ; 90 
 
 And skilled in every polished lore, 
 Each rude recess of art explore ; 
 
CANTO FIRST. 19 
 
 But still to make the diamond blaze, 
 
 And brighter shed its brilliant rays, 
 
 To polished France the hero hies, 95 
 
 Where Jlngier's fertile mountains rise ; 
 
 And there he learns the sword to wield, 
 
 To guard the thrust, the blow to shield, 
 
 To know by his opponent's glance, 
 
 When to recede, and when advance ; 100 
 
 Determined, resolute, and calm, 
 
 From Gallia's sons he bears the palm, 
 
 Good-omen that in future days 
 
 Hell spoil that nation of its bays. 
 
 Now Jllbioiis rocky coast to gain, 105 
 
 With heart elate he braves the main, 
 Soft breezes fill the bow-bent sails, 
 And soon the wished-for shore he hailSe 
 
 D 2 
 
20 WELLINGTON. 
 
 The genial soil his bosom warms, 
 
 His soul expands for deeds of arms, 110 
 
 Afresh his native spirit glows 
 
 To meet encamped his country's foes \ 
 
 In Britain's cause he takes the field, 
 
 Her laws and liberties to shield ; 
 
 And could the Muse but soar and tell 115 
 
 How many 'neath his faulchion fell, 
 
 How oft when dubious went the day, 
 
 When close and bloody was the fray, 
 
 He singly turned the scale of war, 
 
 Though marked by many a gash and scar, 120 
 
 Nor Hector nor Achilles then 
 
 Would bear the name of mighty men ; 
 
 She merely tells how quick he flew 
 
 The junior ranks of honor through, 
 
 Still adding trophies to his name, 125 
 
 Braiding a wreath of deathless fame. 
 
CANTO FIRST. 21 
 
 Moira, thou know'st his value well, 
 Thou could'st his deeds of valor tell, 1 
 When war in Flanders furious raged, 
 By Britain and her allies waged, 130 
 
 When British arms were forced to yield, 
 Compell'd to quit the marshall'd field, 
 He with a keen and piercing eye, 
 Which could each danger quick descry, 
 Saw when to strike the well-timed blow, 135 
 
 And mark'd each movement of the foe ; 
 His stratagems and plans he foiled, 
 And of his prey the foeman spoiled. 
 As when the eagle takes her young 
 To soar the rugged rocks among, 140 
 
 And sees the fowler with his snare 
 To seize upon her brood prepare, 
 Terrific screaming, gives th' alarm, 
 And thus preserves them safe from harm ; 
 
22 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Or if fatigued, her wing expands, 145 
 
 And bears them from the fowler's hands ; 
 
 So Wellington, with anxious care 
 
 Guarded with triple strength his rear, 
 
 And thus regained the wished-for shore, 
 
 Nor stained the beach one Briton's gore. 150 
 
 On India's plains he next appears, 
 And still the conqueror's laurel wears, 
 When Tippoo, and his mighty host, 
 Their fame and territories lost, 
 
 When Dhodia Waugh behind the rock 155 
 
 Of Connahull position took, 
 He nobly on his soldiers led, 
 Himself as Captain at their head, 
 And drove him from his strong retreat, 
 With signal vict'ry and defeat; 160 
 
CANTO FIRST. 23 
 
 Gainst Holkar then his force he turn'd, 
 Who Poonah would have sacked and burn'd, 
 Had Wellington his march delay'd, 
 Or to refresh or rest him staid ; 
 
 But moving with celerity, 165 
 
 He made the astonish'd foeman fly, 
 And rescued Poonah from the fate 
 Threat'ned by Holkar's deadly hate. 
 Continuing thus his rapid course, 
 
 Near to where Ketriah owns its source, 170 
 
 Beneath the sun's most vertic rays, 
 In marches forced, he next essays 
 To make the foeman battle give, 
 Ere he his losses can retrieve. 
 
 The hostile armies now in sight, 175 
 
 Prepare to meet the dreadful fight; 
 
24 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Though quintuple their numbers tell, 
 
 With arms of war provided well; 
 
 Though hordes of horsemen ready stand, 
 
 To rush upon the little band, 180 
 
 Yet dauntless is each Briton's heart, 
 
 Ne'er known from honor to depart, 
 
 Now view the onset — lo ! that shock, 
 'Tis like the bursting of a rock, 
 
 Which seems to shake the arch of Heaven, 185 
 
 Yet 'tis the only signal given ; 
 'Merging from 'neath yon lightning's gleam 
 From cannons' brazen mouth it came, 
 Like Etna's bursting mountain flame ; 
 It might have rent a heart of steel, 190 
 
 Or made a British warrior feel ; 
 But undismay'd by dread or fear, 
 They boldly meet the foeman's spear, 
 
CANTO FIRST. 25 
 
 » 
 And from the heights where late they stood, 
 
 Rush forward like a winters flood, 195 
 
 Through fields of gore — 'midst hills of slain, 
 
 Sweeping with dreadful surge the plain ; 
 
 In phalanx firm the foe repel 
 
 The mighty charge — though thousands swell 
 
 The heaps of dead — and thousands more 200 
 
 Lie wounded, welt' ring in their gore; 
 
 But what, when Britain lifts her arm, 
 
 Can 'bide the surge, or calm the storm? 
 
 As well the foeman might have tried ~J 
 
 To stay the flowing of the tide, } 205 
 
 Which roll'd impetuous by his side. ^ 
 
 Their solid phalanx soon is cleft, 
 
 Opes wide the chasm from right to left, 
 
 Britannia's troops break every rank, 
 
 And now appear upon their flank. 210 
 
 E 
 
26 WFXLINGTON. 
 
 Thus heavy falls the woodman's stroke 
 On the hard-knotted, stubborn oak. 
 
 Nor dubious long remains the fight, 
 The bugles tell the foeman's flight, 
 And distant rocks and hills resound, 215 
 
 Britannia's arms with vict'ry crown'd ; 
 Yet not till on the bloody glade, 
 While Wellington his troops array'd, 
 His charger 'neath his feet was laid. 
 
 And let the Muse now drop a tear 220 
 
 O'er gallant Maxwell's sacred bier, 
 He nobly fell in glory's arms, 
 (A softer couch than beauty's charms,) 
 As he dispers'd the rallying foe, 
 And struck the firm, decisive blow. 225 
 
CANTO FIRST. 27 
 
 But still the Chief had foes to quell, 
 Tho' many 'neath his sabre fell ; 
 And 'gainst the Rajah of Berar 
 He turns the sweeping tide of war ; 
 And after long and close pursuit, 230 
 
 O'er burning sands, where stem nor root 
 Of weed or flower its birth-right claims, 
 On Agr arris plain the battle flames. 
 And Berar still may rue the day, 
 
 When seiz'd with terror and dismay, 235 
 
 Her boasting Chief inglorious fled, 
 When half his numerous host lay dead. 
 But yet one fortress there remain'd, 
 Of tested strength, Gawilgamam'dj 
 Where soon a breach the British made, 240 
 
 And carried it by escalade. 
 Those deeds of fame such terror spread, 
 As fill'd the foe with secret dread, 
 
 E 2 
 
28 WELLINGTON. 
 
 A peace the Rajah humbly sued, 
 
 Soon war with all its terrors rude, } 245 
 
 Fled the bright scene, nor dar'd intrude ; 
 
 For Scindia join'd his powerful hand, 
 
 To tranquillize the jarring land. 
 
 All India speaks our hero's fame, 
 Each heart responsive tells his name ; 250 
 
 Nor do they, wondering, more admire 
 His feats of war, which awe inspire, 
 Than the mild beauties of his mind, 
 To truth and equity inclined, 
 
 By which he gained as fair a peace 255 
 
 As ere was known to Rome or Greece. 
 His countrymen with native glow, 
 Their sense of gratitude to shew, 
 With beauteous sword of value great, 
 Present the hero, who so late 260 
 
CANTO FIRST. 29 
 
 Secured them from the clang of arms, 
 
 From hostile foe, and war's alarms ; 
 
 Then by his gracious Sovereign's hand, 
 
 With grateful speech, in accents bland, 
 
 The warrior is created Knight, 265 
 
 And thus ascends the cliffy height, 
 
 Or treads upon the sacred path 
 
 Of noble " Order of the Bath ;" 
 
 To which the partners of his toils, 
 
 Who shared his dangers and his spoils, 270 
 
 And saw his deeds of valor bold, 
 
 Present him with a vase of gold. 
 
 When halcyon peace her wings had spread, 
 And every thought of war had fled, 
 To taste again the sweets of home, 275 
 
 Once more 'mong native hills to roam, 
 
30 WELLINGTON. 
 
 He boldly mounts the foaming wave, 
 
 While o'er the bark the breakers lave. 
 
 Congenial breezes gently sweep 
 
 The warrior over Ocean's deep ; 
 
 Old England's barriers soon appear, 280 
 
 And now the British coast they near. 
 
 We here behold him take a seat 
 Where Britain's Lords and Commons meet, 
 While from his lips in bright array, ^ 
 
 Sense, wit, and judgment mingled play, } 285 
 
 Effulgent as the solar ray. 
 The warrior with the statesman blending, 
 A noble brother's cause defending, 
 Displays a mind of cultured thought, 
 As copious as the mountain vault 290 
 
 From which the wind by iEol freed, 
 Rushed forth on wings of whirlwind speed ; 
 
CANTO FIRST. 31 
 
 And with ungovernable force, 
 
 The Trojan fleet swept from its course. 
 
 With such resistless sway he speaks, 295 
 
 His powerful words like thunder breaks, 
 
 Flashing conviction on the soul, 
 
 Whom meaner passions but controul. 
 
 But here his bright revolving mind, 
 No proper aliment could find, 300 
 
 His active spirit taught to soar 
 Where danger's fellest harpies roar, 
 Disdain'd to court the downy couch 
 Till England's foes were made to crouch. 
 
 To Haffnitis* shores he now proceeds, 305 
 
 While noble Cathcart onward leads ; 
 
 * Copenhagen, 
 
32 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Near Kioge banks the armies meet, 
 
 Where soon the foe in quick retreat, 
 
 Publish the vict'ry and defeat. J 310 
 
 The Danes thus quickly made to fly, 
 
 With England's offered terms comply ; 
 
 Proclaiming loud the hero's skill, 
 
 To subjugate her foes at will. 
 
 vgeW^F 
 
WELLINGTON. 
 
 <£anto J&confc* 
 
 -A.LAS ! for Portugal and Spain, 
 
 Whose fleets triumphant plough'd the main, 
 
 Whose galley-slaves once plied their oars 
 
 To carry war to distant shores ; 
 
 Whose armies, cruel and austere, 5 
 
 By conquest flush'd, in peace severe; 
 
 Nor love nor pity warmed their breast, 
 
 Black treachery and hate their crest ; 
 
 Diverging from the name of man, 
 
 Their savage breasts devis'd the plan, 10 
 
 F 
 
34 WELLINGTON. 
 
 To let their well-trained blood-hounds bound, 
 
 The Indian's native country round, 
 
 To slay him as he slept profound. 
 
 And why thus treat the helpless race, 
 
 Why thus with dogs their hidings trace 1 15 
 
 Had they been treach'rous ? — were they foes, 
 
 Who Spanish conquests would oppose? 
 
 No! — they had land as rich as Heaven 
 
 To earth-born man had ever given ; 
 
 This was their crime, and Spain decreed 20 
 
 Them number'd with the silent dead, 
 
 While they their plantain shade beneath 
 
 Peaceful reclin'd — their bed the heath. 
 
 Nor did the God who sits on high, 
 Scanning earth's mound with piercing eye, 25 
 
 The dark and impious deed o'erlook, 
 But in his awful record book 
 
CANTO SECOND. 35 
 
 Decreed that Spain, o'erwhelm'd with woes, 
 
 Should prostrate fall beneath her foes. 
 
 The fiat given — the sword was drawn, 30 
 
 And where the beauteous field and lawn 
 
 Then grac'd the landscape's varied scene, 
 
 With groves and rivulets between, 
 
 Is now, by war's curs'd demons fed, 
 
 Become a charnel of the dead ; 3$ 
 
 Their cities then immerged in wealth, 
 
 Their air salubrious, breathing health, 
 
 Polluted now by human gore, 
 
 Which trickled fast from every pore, 
 
 Display the awful hand of God, 
 
 Avenging still the megros* blood* 
 
 But now for liberty they fight, 
 
 A theme which Mritons never slight ; 
 F 2 
 
36 WELLINGTON. 
 
 They saw the struggling, sinking band, 
 
 Grasped by an upstart tyrant's hand, 45 
 
 And as the bolts of Heaven roll 
 
 With rapid speed from pole to pole, 
 
 So quickly o'er the mantling wave, 
 
 Fly Britain's armies, ever brave, 
 
 To set a suffering nation free, 50 
 
 To plead the cause of Liberty. 
 
 The sailor on the ocean's main, 
 Beholds with heart-corroding pain, 
 The bark which once could proudly brave 
 The fiercest storm, the roughest wave, 55 
 
 Now by contending billows tost, 
 Shiver' d her sails, her rudder lost ; 
 His every thought of safety dead, 
 And all but hope— fond hope is fled ; 
 
CANTO SECOND. 37 
 
 Borne on the deeply murmuring gale 60 
 
 He sees approach a friendly sail, 
 
 Afresh hope's dying ember burns, 
 
 And vigorous strength with hope returns; 
 
 His bark, new trimm'd, in stoutest form, 
 
 Turns to the breeze, and braves the stormy 05 
 
 And 'midst the elemental roar, 
 
 Finds safety on its native shore. 
 
 Thus Spain, who long in gaudy pride, 
 Was seen o'er many a foe to ride; 
 But now o'ercome by mightier power, 70 
 
 Beholds with dread th' approaching hour, 
 When none to help, nor hand to save, 
 She'll sink beneath the op'ning wave. 
 And there for ever find a grave. 
 Wafted on gentle zephyr's breeze, 75 
 
 Britannia's warlike fleet she sees, 
 
38 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Which soon upon her jutting strand, 
 Pours forth a stout and valiant hand, 
 As e'er broke spear, or drew a brand. 
 
 Iberia, look ! to thy relief 80 
 
 Advances now the god-like Chief, 
 The glory of the white-cliff 'd isle, 
 Comes now with joy to bid thee smile. 
 
 Invading Gaul shall quickly know 
 That Britain's arms still find a foe 85 
 
 Where'er oppression lifts her head, 
 By ruthless tyrant's wishes led; 
 Supported by the glowing thought, 
 Through thickest ranks her Chiefs have fought, 
 And Labor de soon the truth shall feel, 90 
 
 Wrote on his crest, with British steel; 
 
CANTO SECOND. 39 
 
 Nor wait the valiant warriors long, 
 They drive him from his fortress strong, 
 Rolicats verdant groves among. 
 
 But soon the Gallic chief Junot, 
 Rallies the lately vanquished foe, 95 
 
 And strengthen^ from his every source, 
 The British lines prepares to force, 
 Where they, encamp'd, a stand had made, 
 Near Vimierds rural shade, 
 
 And vow'd to hurl them in the flood 100 
 
 Which roird behind them as they stood. 
 
 The armies now in dread array, 
 Wait anxious for the battle-day, 
 While oft the British Chieftain's eye, 
 Glances o'er vale, and mountain high, 105 
 
40 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Marking with care each rising mound, 
 
 The lengthening plain, the sheltered ground ; 
 
 Planting in thought his cannon there, 
 
 And here, in deep and hollow square 
 
 His centre formed, shall meet the attack, 110 
 
 And drive the vaunting foemen hack ; 
 
 His horsemen then shall turn the charge, 
 
 Repel each thrust, and cleave each targe, 
 
 While his broad front, extending wide, "\ 
 
 Shall close around on every side, > 115 
 
 And toss them like an angry tide. J 
 
 Behold the impetuous troops of France 
 To turn the British wings advance ; 
 But foiled in every vain attempt, 
 
 To force their centre now seem bent ; 120 
 
 And fierce and dreadful is th' attack, 
 Which seems e'en nature's self to rack; 
 
CANTO SECOND. 4J 
 
 The bay'net does its wondrous deeds, 
 
 And many a horse and horseman bleeds ; 
 
 But as the rocks which bound the main, 125 
 
 Are by the breakers lash'd in vain, 
 
 Repelling still the foaming wave, 
 
 Which oft their hollow caverns lave, 
 
 So Britain's host the foe receive, 
 
 Who fame nor honor here retrieve, 130 
 
 But quick as thought compell'd to yield, 
 
 Are driven from the bloody field. 
 
 But who is this with high command, 
 That stays the gallant conqueror's hand, 
 Nor lets him yet the foe pursue 185 
 
 While evening's sky retains its blue ? 
 ? Tis Burrard, who while battle raged, 
 While foot and horse were close engaged, 
 
 G 
 
4i WELLINGTON. 
 
 Arrived to take command supreme, 
 
 And saw the star of vict'ry beam ; 140 
 
 But cruel fate his orders sway'd, 
 
 To sheath that e'en the blood-stain'd blade, 
 
 And ere they can the work complete, 
 
 The echoing bugles sound " retreat." 
 
 The chase is left, and ere the dawn 145 
 
 Streaks with its roseat tint the lawn, 
 The foe have fled o'er brake and glen, 
 Nor fear pursuit of warrior men ; 
 When Wellington resigns command, 
 And soon appears on Albion's strand. 150 
 
 And here let Valor braid a wreath, 
 As she the cypress shade beneath, 
 Entwines the laurel with the boughs 
 Which hang around in varied rows* 
 
CANTO SECOND. 43 
 
 To deck the tomb of valiant Moore, 155 
 
 Who next his country's standard bore, 
 
 To bid defiance to the foes 
 
 Who Spanish freedom would oppose; 
 
 Let fame the trump of glory take, 
 
 A bold, though solemn dirge awake, 160 
 
 To sound his name all nations thro', 
 
 'Tis but the meed to virtue due ; 
 
 Let Caledonia's heavenly bard 
 
 To Caledonia's son award, 
 
 The song of praise his valor claims, 165 
 
 And as the torch of glory flames, 
 
 Around his soul-inspiring lay, 
 
 With nicest touch of art he may 
 
 The dying warrior pourtray ; 
 
 When stretched upon the couch of death, 170 
 
 And life seem'd struggling for a breath, 
 
 G 2 
 
M WELLINGTON. 
 
 When the faint eye, once glancing bright, 
 
 Could scarcely bear a gleam of light ; 
 
 When the weak pulse had ceased to tell — 
 
 When stretch'd, the sinewy arm fell, 175 
 
 Ere he could raise it to his head — 
 
 When life itself had almost fled — 
 
 Yet strong in death the hero's heart, 
 
 Nor could his soul in peace depart, 
 
 Till rallying nature's faint remains, 180 
 
 (Though writhing 'neath her cruel pains,) 
 
 He faintly asks " are all on board;" 
 
 And as he hears th' affirming word, 
 
 " Happy I die," he nobly cries, 
 
 And quick his soul ascends the skies ; 185 
 
 And though no sculptur'd pile can tell 
 
 How valiantly the hero fell ; 
 
 Though no rude column speaks his name, 
 
 Or stands the record of his fame, 
 
CANTO SECOND. 45 
 
 Yet in each Britons heart enshrin'd, 190 
 
 Are Wellington and Moore entwin'd. 
 
 But 'neath the yoke had Spain still groan'd, 
 And Portugal responsive moan'd, 
 While stern oppression's iron chain 
 Echoed their sorrows o'er the main, 195 
 
 Had t/llbioris outstretched arm forbore 
 On Lusitania's plains once more 
 To draw the blade, fresh bathed in gore. 
 Oh ! happy England ! nobly free ! 
 Victorious may'st thou ever be ; 200 
 
 Thou could'st not view the patriot band, 
 Who drew for liberty the brand, 
 Fall 'neath the hated tyrant's grasp, 
 Who thought with powerful hand to clasp 
 The tottering States, which seemed to crave 205 
 
 The pity of the great and brave, 
 
46 WELLINGTON. 
 
 To make the fertile land his own, 
 
 And place his brother on the throne ; 
 
 Thy Wellington again returns, 
 
 Where war with rapid fury burns, 210 
 
 To chase the proudly vaunting foe, 
 
 Where roll the Tagus and Douro^ 
 
 Where Minho and the Vouga glide, 
 
 And the Leiria flowing wide, 
 
 Their van he hurls from Grijos* height, 215 
 
 Who in their forced and speedy flight 
 
 The Dourtfs bridge of boats destroy 
 
 And on its other bank deploy ; 
 
 For Soult premis'd this measure best, 
 
 Britannia's progress to arrest, 220 
 
 But ill the project he had plann'd, 
 
 Nor yet her Chieftain's talents scann'd ; 
 
 For Paget with a chosen force, 
 
 Of British infantry and horse, 
 
CANTO SECOND. 47 
 
 Is wafted to Oporto's bank 225 
 
 Where Soult in force has formed his flank, 
 
 And there maintains th' unequal fight, 
 
 Till Wellington appears in sight; 
 
 He soon defeats the astonish'd foe, 
 
 Who now retreat, and as they go 230 
 
 Leave half their baggage strewed along; 
 
 Their wounded and their dead among. 
 
 Nor did the victor sheath the sword, 
 
 But all its dreadful fury poured, 
 
 Till Portugal could freedom boast, 235 
 
 Nor own a foeman on her coast, 
 
 And soon Espaniola's fears 
 
 Are hushed — and dried her briny tears ; 
 
 Slowly the foemen now retreat, 
 
 Ashamed to fly, afraid to meet 240 
 
 The terrors of the victor's arm, 
 
 Spreading confusion and alarm ; 
 
I 
 
 48 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Her verdant groves shall soon unfold 
 
 More feats of valor than were told 
 
 When Milton viewed the hosts of Heaven 245 
 
 From off their thrones of jasper driven, 
 
 Or when old Priam held the reins 
 
 Of fated Troy, whose trophied plains 
 
 Were crimson'd with a thousand stains. 
 
 Yes ! on thy blood impurpled field, 
 
 Famed Talavera, were beheld 
 
 More feats of valor than were sung 
 
 By minstrel's harp, or poet's tongue-*-- 
 
 There Wellington his army view'd, 
 
 Posted on plain and hillock rude, 255 
 
 And dauntless saw the Gallic spear, 
 
 On the surrounding heights appear. 
 
 Yet why is dull the Chieftain's eye, 
 Why starts the deep and thoughtful sigh, 
 
CANTO SECOND. 49 
 
 Or why has fled the cheerful smile, 260 
 
 Which once with pleasing, airy wile, 
 
 Would o'er his manly visage play, 
 
 Chasing each gloomy thought away ; 
 
 With pity soft his bosom glows, 
 
 From gen'rous care his sorrow flows, 265 
 
 He grieves to view his gallant force 
 
 Who, when grey morning tells its source, 
 
 Shall tear the Gallic eagle down, 
 
 And snatch a gem from Gallia's crown, 
 
 Now faint and wearied, drooping stand, 270 
 
 Grasped by pale hunger's writhing hand. 
 
 He grieves to see Iberia lie 
 
 In sullen, careless apathy, 
 
 Nor for her own nor Britain's sake, "} 
 
 To gain supplies one effort make, } 275 
 
 Though 'tis her cause is now at stake. 
 H 
 
 \ 
 
50 WELLINGTON. 
 
 But hark f the trumpet's boding sound 
 Re-echoes from the hills around; 
 And from the front opposing height, 
 The cannons first proclaim the fight ; 
 Bay'net doth bay'net now oppose, 280 
 
 And quick the hostile armies close ; 
 The foemen charge — they reel — they fall, 
 And thrice the bravest troops of Gaul, 
 As tigers bold, make fierce attack, 
 And thrice with loss are driven back, 285 
 
 Ere evening spreads her dusky shade, 
 And moving quickly retrogade, 
 Are forced, though obstinate, to yield 
 The blood-bought trophies of the field. 
 
 Ah ! what suspense pervades each breast 290 
 As now they lay them down to rest, 
 
CANTO SECOND. 51 
 
 Their evening's song the dying groan, 
 
 Their vesper hymn the piteous moan ; 
 
 But lo ! at midnight's sacred hour, 295 
 
 As plants refresh'd by evening's shower, 
 
 The foe spring from their grassy couch, 
 
 And quick the British heights approach ; 
 
 But ere they pass their boundary, 
 
 The British guards the movements see, 300 
 
 " To arms ! to arms !" the drum resounds, 
 
 Quickly " to arms" each warrior bounds ; 
 
 And as a torrent sweeps the hills, 
 
 Swelling to floods the purling rills, 
 
 So Hill with bay'net point drives back 305 
 
 The foemen as they make th' attack ; 
 
 Carnage and slaughter mark their flight. 
 
 And dead and d^ng strew the height. 
 
 Silence once more ascends her throne, 
 
 Save where the wounded warrior's groan, 310 
 
 H 2 
 
52 WELLINGTON. 
 
 In plaintive strain, or humble prayer, 
 
 Salutes the blood-polluted air. 
 
 The dawn now streaks the eastern skies, 
 
 When to their arms the soldiers rise, 
 
 On heights opposed the foe are seen, 315 
 
 A deep uneven vale between ; 
 
 The bugle sounds, the battle roars, 
 
 The Gallic Chief his vengeance pours 
 
 On gallant Hill, who as a rock 
 
 Repels the deep, concussive shock, 320 
 
 And arm'd with fury, drives him down 
 
 Near TalavercCs blood-drench'd town. 
 
 But look ! 'tis strange ! war's terrors cease, 
 
 And mutual seems the moment's peace, 
 
 On mountain's side the troops recline, 325 
 
 Nor fear the foe's opposing line. 
 
 Not long remains the sword in sheath, 
 
 Nor long the warriors press the heath, 
 
CANTO SECOND. 53 
 
 Bugles anew the onset sound, 
 
 The cannons shake the echoing ground, 330 
 
 Campbell and Anson now appear, 
 
 And on their faulchions vict'ry bear ; 
 
 The bay'net drives — the foe recedes, 
 
 And many a veteran soldier bleeds. 
 
 But mark the cause why vict'ry shines 335 
 
 In splendour o'er the British lines — 
 See Wellington on yonder height 
 View each position of the fight, 
 And with a sure unerring hand 
 The movements of his troops command. 340 
 
 View now the last, the grand attack, 
 The foe nor rage, nor courage lack, 
 But weak th' attempt, the thought is vain 
 That they the British heights can gain ; 
 
54 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Sherbroke prepares the charge to meet, 345 
 
 Prepares to give the grand defeat ; 
 
 Undaunted they receive the foe, 
 
 And in confusion quickly throw 
 
 Their ranks, by one fierce brilliant charge, 
 
 Who now the heaps of dead enlarge ; 350 
 
 They strive to rally, but are foil'd, 
 
 In vain for conquest they have toil'd, 
 
 Nor can their charge of foot or horse 
 
 The British wings or centre force ; 
 
 And scarce the sun withdraws his heat 355 
 
 Till they commence a quick retreat, 
 
 Where rapid rolls the Alberche's flood, 
 
 Deeply suffus'd with human blood. 
 
 Oh, Talaveraf what dread sights 
 Thy plains unfold, thy cliffy heights 360 
 
CANTO SECOND. 55 
 
 Purpled with streams of human gore, 
 
 As waves bedew their pebbly shore, 
 
 Now lave thy plains where lately grew 
 
 The juicy grape of amber hue ; 
 
 There many a stout and gallant man, 365 
 
 The bravest of his valiant clan, 
 
 Lies cold and lifeless in his blood, 
 
 Where long and firm he dauntless stood, 
 
 And brav'd the fiercest of the foe 
 
 Where now in death his head lies low. 370 
 
 Here may pale pity draw a veil, 
 And from remembrance half conceal 
 The carnage dire that mark'd the scene 
 When morning ope'd her blue serene, 
 And with oblivion's mantle hide, 375 
 
 The picture of thy mountain's side, 
 
56 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Yet give the meed to Erin's son, 
 For he the glorious vict'ry won. 
 
 Oh could the feeble Muse now soar, 
 And tell the many battles o'er, 380 
 
 In which he, conqueror, won the day, 
 And fill'd the foe with dread dismay ; 
 When Gallic blood the incense paid 
 To many a British warrior's shade ; 
 To paint him as he should be shewn, 385 
 
 In glowing colours, " all his own," 
 Th' astonish'd world the sight would view, 
 And, wondering, give the plaudit due ; 
 But overpowered by the sight, 
 
 She stays the bold, terrific flight, 390 
 
 And turning from the wide expanse, 
 Can scarcely take a passing glance, 
 
CANTO SECOND. 57 
 
 From off the cloud-embosom'd heights, 
 
 To count the number of the fights — 
 
 To see upon •Almeida's plain 395 
 
 The rear of Victor's army slain, 
 
 And what the number of his loss 
 
 Ere he the Coa's bridge can cross; 
 
 To see from off JBusaco's hill 
 
 The mangled dead the valley fill ; 400 
 
 Or how along the Zezere's banks 
 
 The fire of Britain thins his ranks ; 
 
 Coimbra and Abr antes too 
 
 With blood-stain'd scenes present the view, 
 
 And famed Barossa's cliffy mount 405 
 
 Can wondrous deeds of arms recount ; 
 
 And Soui/r may curse the luckless hour 
 
 He saw the front of battle lour 
 
 O'er Albuerd's hilly ground, 
 
 Where half his host their death-bed found % 410 
 
 i 
 
58 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Or when by point of bayonet, 
 
 The British troops possession get 
 
 OfPerequino's cliffy height, 
 
 Though stout the foe, and fierce the fight ; 
 
 Nor shall famed Cuidad Rodrigoj 415 
 
 Her battle scenes refuse to shew, 
 
 Telling how well the plan was formed 
 
 When Britain's host its fortress storm'd ; 
 
 Nor shall the fall of JBadajos, 
 
 Where floated high the blood-red cross, 420 
 
 O'erlooked by fame, remain unknown, 
 
 There British valor rais'd her throne; 
 
 Whose siege proclaim'd around the world, 
 
 That Britain's thunderbolts are hurl'd 
 
 With giant strength, from warriors' hands, 425 
 
 When Wellington her force commands; 
 
 And Salamanca's purpled plain 
 
 Saw not the rosy morn in vain, 
 
CANTO SECOND. 59 
 
 When bugles sounding from afar 
 
 Rous'd t/llbiorts lion to the war, 430 
 
 Where, ere the setting of the sun 
 
 A glorious vict'ry he had won ; 
 
 To see proud Gallia's fatal loss 
 
 On the rude heights of fam'd Burgos ; 
 
 From whence their forc'd and hurried flight 435 
 
 Is covered by the shade of night ; 
 
 To see Madrid, where long the foe 
 
 In pompous boast, and gaudy show, 
 
 Planted the Gallic banners high, 
 
 And seem'd incursion to defy; 440 
 
 But soon the British ensign waves 
 
 From where the rolling Tagus laves 
 
 Its flowery banks, and verdant groves, 
 
 To where the JDwina mazy roves ; 
 
 Nor do the conq'ring armies lag, 445 
 
 Or furl in peace the blood-red flag, 
 
 I 2 
 
60 WELLINGTON. 
 
 But plant its staff on Cadiz walls. 
 
 Which soon beneath their thunder falls ; 
 
 And passing o'er the Tormes flood, 
 
 Arrive where Burgos lately stood, 450 
 
 But now in heaps of ruin laid, 
 
 By Gallia's army, who afraid 
 
 To meet the British host in fight, 
 
 Disorder'd speed their rapid flight 
 
 Where glides the JEbro near Vittoria's height. J 455 
 
WELLINGTON. 
 
 <£anto €J)irlu 
 
 1 HE Muse by eager fancy borne 
 From where war's herald winds his horn, 
 Sees Wellington with feeling hand, 
 Unchain the long benighted land 
 
 From superstition's iron cage 5 
 
 Where horror's darkest furies rage. 
 As messenger of pitying Heaven 
 With powerful hand he thence has driven 
 The Inquisition's hated band, 
 Which oft with bigot's cruel hand, 10 
 
62 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Immured chaste innocence in gloom 
 
 Of anguish greater than the womb 
 
 Of hist'ry's volume can unfold, 
 
 Of deeds of darkness done of old, 
 
 Or yet to come, for hope foretells 15 
 
 Monastic caves, or torture's cells, 
 
 Shall ne'er disgrace th' historic page 
 
 Of any future reign or age, 
 
 Nor Portugal be heard to moan 
 
 Beneath the earthquake's frightful groan, 20 
 
 Which once o'erturn'd their altar's blaze, 
 
 While they in superstition's maze, 
 
 To impious deeds of horror driven, 
 
 With idols mock'd the God of Heaven. 
 
 But wistful fancy turns to see 25 
 
 What the decisive end may be, 
 
CANTO THIRD. 63 
 
 Which bodes so awful, from the flock 
 
 Of ravens gathering on the rock 
 
 Which fronts Vittoria, where array'd 
 
 In battle lines the foemen staid 30 
 
 To meet the British host's attack, 
 
 Who now arrive to drive them back. 
 
 Yet calm is valor's look and eye, 
 
 Which scarcely brooks to heave a sigh, 
 
 Though curdling runs pale pity's blood, 35 
 
 As she beholds the passing flood, 
 
 Whose quickly swelling waves shall pour, 
 
 Mingled with streams of smoaking gore 
 
 From gallant warriors, who now come 
 
 At trumpet sound, or beat of drum. 40 
 
 And sure to see the armies stand 
 In battle lines, was wondrous grand, 
 
64 WELLINGTON. 
 
 As far as human eye could view, 
 
 In phalanx firm and crescent true, 
 
 To see the allied banners fly, 45 
 
 Their motto " Death or Liberty!" 
 
 To hear the charge the trumpets sounding, 
 
 To see the neighing charger bounding, 
 
 To hear the broad mouth'd cannons roar, 
 
 And see the front of battle pour ; 50 
 
 Then the tremendous fight begun, 
 
 And clash of arms responsive rung; 
 
 Then valiant Hill, in gallant style 
 
 Attacked the enemy's defile, 
 
 And drove him from Puebltfs height, 55 
 
 Where boldly he maintain'd the fight, 
 
 Striving to keep th' important post 
 
 Against the gallant allied host ; 
 
 Who passing o'er Zadora's flood, 
 
 Where long and firm the foemen stood, 60 
 
CANTO THIRD. 05 
 
 Soon drive them from Alavtfs vale, 
 Whose village seems but to conceal 
 The number of their men that falls 
 Beneath the ruin of its walls. 
 
 Thus from the caverns of the north 65 
 
 The mighty Boreas rushes forth, 
 Sweeping o'er vale and mountain steep, 
 And burying in the ocean's deep 
 The light -wing'd skiff, who long defied 
 The raging storm, the angry tide ; 70 
 
 Tossing the ash and mountain pine, 
 And bending low the knotted vine. 
 
 But yonder mark a foaming steed, 
 His pace denotes his rider's speed, 
 Who soon proclaims, " Let Britain's right 75 
 
 " Drive the proud foe from off the height ;" 
 
 K 
 
66 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Now doubly fierce the contest seems, 
 
 Each hill and vale with life-blood teems ; 
 
 And as the tyger from his den 
 
 Bounds o'er each shaggy brake and fen, 80 
 
 Nor fears the bullet's whizzing sound, 
 
 Which from his hard, tough sides rebound, 
 
 But roaring frightful, speeds his course, 
 
 Supplied by rage with double force ; 
 
 So onward press the patriot band, ^ 85 
 
 Nor can the foe the charge withstand, 
 
 So nobly made, so great, so grand. 
 
 
 But now the British left survey, 
 Who spreading terror and dismay, 
 Make the bright torch of glory flame 90 
 
 Resplendent o'er their leader Graham ; 
 There Pack and Longa force along, 
 And turn th' enemy's tetes du pont. 
 
CANTO THIRD. 67 
 
 Taking GamaraKs cliffy height, 
 
 And gaining Abechuc&s fight. 95 
 
 There Anson led his light brigade 
 
 'Neath gallant Oswald's conq'ring shade ; 
 
 There Robinson possession gain'd 
 
 By bay'net point, so deeply stained 
 
 With Gallic blood, which, oozing, flowed 100 
 
 Along Gamarah Major* s road ; 
 
 There Bradford, Halket, Douberdieu, 
 
 With conquering arm the foe pursue, 
 
 Nor turn the steed, nor curb the rein, 
 
 Till many a vaunting foe is slain. 105 
 
 All boldly now in strength advance 
 O'er blood-stain'd tracks that point to France, 
 Nor stop the chase till evening's veil 
 Doth the retreating foe conceal, 
 
 K 2 
 
68 WELLINGTON. 
 
 'Till the pale queen that sways the tides 
 Majestic in her chariot rides, 
 And looks so fair, and smiles so bright, 
 She seems to glory in the sight. 
 
 Oh for a Milton's fire to tell 
 The woeful plight, and carnage fell, 115 
 
 To give a picture of the night 
 Which saw th' invaders take their flight; 
 When scattered o'er each hill and glen, 
 Their dying, dead, and wounded men, 
 Lay stretched in heaps, or rolled in blood, 120 
 
 Which gathered like a mountain flood ; 
 Where dismal screams and piercing shrieks 
 The silence of the night-scene breaks ; 
 Where broken scimitar and spear, 
 And helmets cleft, which e'en now wear 125 
 
CANTO THIRD. 69 
 
 The plume which graced the warrior's head, 
 Are scattered o'er the mangled dead. 
 But when young morning streaks the sky, 
 And points to where the foemen fly, 
 Horrid and frightful is the scene, 130 
 
 Where cruel slaughter late has been; 
 Where many a wounded soldier lies, 
 And rends the air with piteous cries. 
 
 But why does vict'ry shed a tear, 
 Or who reclines on yonder bier ? 135 
 
 Tis Caddogan, the British Chief, 
 Whose warlike deeds demand such grief, 
 He nobly fell amidst the fight 
 Which raged upon Vittoria's height. 
 
 Yonder pale pity's angels mourn 140 
 
 The brave, who Valor's crest have worn, 
 
70 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Who calmly sleep amidst the wreck 
 Which seems old nature's course to check. 
 
 But mark yon lovely trembling fair, 
 Whose looks pourtray her soul's despair, 145 
 
 Clasp th' fallen hero to her breast, 
 Whose soft emotions oft confess'd 
 The sole possessor of the heart, 
 Which death itself can scarcely part 
 From his, whose brightly-glancing eye 150 
 
 Oft chid the deep, the rising sigh, 
 Which boded of the woe she fear'd, 
 When war's loud clarion call she heard ; 
 And as she bathes his clay-cold hand, 
 Her look so soft, so true, so bland, 155 
 
 'Twould sooth to peace the savage heart, 
 Whom tender pity ne'er could smart ; 
 
CANTO THIRD. 71 
 
 But as she views his pallid cheek, 
 
 The eye which seemed so calmly meek, 
 
 Devoutly rais'd to Heaven in prayer, 160 
 
 Rolls wildly round in phrensied stare ; 
 
 Despair seems fix'd upon her mind, 
 
 She flings her tresses to the wind, 
 
 And thus in anguish keen exclaims, 
 
 While rage upon her visage beams, 165 
 
 And throbs her bursting bosom high — 
 
 " Oh, cruel murderers, why, oh ! why 
 
 " Have you thus robbed me of my love, 
 
 " But he is gone to realms above, 
 
 " He chides my stay, and bids me come, 170 
 
 " With him in happier worlds to roam." 
 
 Yet as the sea by tempests driven, 
 
 Now sweeps beneath, now mounts to Heaven, 
 
 In peaceful calm its rage subsides, 
 
 And gently rolling, onwards glides ; 175 
 
72 WELLINGTON. 
 
 So melts the maiden's strain of woe, 
 
 Which now is plaintive, sweet, and slow : 
 
 " Oh, war, thou bane of earthly joy, 
 
 « Why did'st thou thus my hopes destroy, 
 
 " Why rob me of my love so true, 180 
 
 " With manly form and eyes of blue, 
 
 " Whose heart was cast in pity's mould, 
 
 " But now, alas ! in death lies cold." 
 
 And yonder mark another fair 
 Her silken locks in anguish tear, 185 
 
 And in heart-rending frenzied woe, 
 Convulsive beat her breast of snow. 
 
 But frighten'd fancy flies the scene, 
 Where war's foul demons now convene, 
 And passes o'er the bloody glade, 190 
 
 Where terror throws her darkest shade, 
 
CANTO THIRD. 73 
 
 To mount where Wellington appears, 
 
 Who vict'ry's brightest ensign bears ; 
 
 To see his conquering standard reared, 
 
 Where noble Edward's once appeared, 195 
 
 Who, like him, made presumptuous Gaul 
 
 Beneath the British sceptre fall ; 
 
 To see the gallant victor drive 
 
 The flying foe, who wearied strive 
 
 To gain the Pyrenean height, 200 
 
 Which towering, soon appears in sight, 
 
 To see him 'neath Sebastian's walls, 
 
 Where many a youthful hero falls 
 
 Where soon the British colors fly, 
 
 On its proud castle turrets high. 205 
 
 To see the British soldiers ford, 
 'Neath shower of balls incessant poured, 
 
 L 
 
74 WELLINGTON. 
 
 The Bidasotfs swelling wave, 
 
 While o'er their breasts the billows lave ; 
 
 Their muskets on their shoulders hung, 210 
 
 Or from their necks majestic slung, 
 
 They soon ascend the Gallic bank, 
 
 And quickly form'd in line and rank, 
 
 From every point drive back the foe, 
 
 And thus victorious, onward go. 215 
 
 Peace to the shades of those who fell, 
 May fame their deeds of valor tell ; 
 And while young beauty drops a tear 
 For those in memory held most dear, 
 May this suppress the rising sigh, 
 u They died as heros wish to die." 
 In victory's arms they nobly fell, 
 Ihe cannons' roar their funeral knell ;; 
 
CANTO THIRD. 75 
 
 They sav'd a nation from the doom 
 
 Of cruel slavery's deepest gloom ; 225 
 
 They tore the laurel from the hand 
 
 Of Gallia's chiefest, stoutest band ; 
 
 And Spain may now exalt her head, 
 
 Nor mourn her valiant sons who bled, 
 
 From Glory's brightest realms they see ^" 
 
 Th' invaders fled, their country free, 
 
 While Wellington his flag unfurls, 
 
 And war with all its fury hurls 
 
 Along the boundaries of France, 
 
 O'er which no foeman dares advance. 235 
 
 And he who once with impious boast, 
 
 Invaded Erin's rocky coast, 
 
 And vainly thought for bribe of gold, 
 
 Her patriot children would have sold 
 
 Their laws, their freedom, and their King, 240 
 
 The Gallic standard round to cling ; 
 
 2L 
 
76 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Who found his wish, his project vain, 
 
 Who saw his wretched army ta'en 
 
 By Erin's sons, who at the call 
 
 Of honor's voice, came one, came all, 245 
 
 With torches lit, with sword in hand, 
 
 To bid the bold intruders stand, 
 
 Soon shall behold them in their turn 
 
 Make war in all its fury burn 
 
 Along his shores, and o'er his plains, 250 
 
 Where even now his sun-burnt swains, 
 
 Behold th' invading army pour, 
 
 Like sweeping storm, like torrents roar, 
 
 From off the rugged cloud-capp'd heights, 
 
 In vengeance for the Spaniard's rights ; 255 
 
 And soon shall see the conquerors drag 
 
 From Bayonne's walls the Gallic flag. 
 
CANTO THIRD. 77 
 
 But when shall cease the hero's toils, 
 Who France of all her glory spoils, 
 Or when receive th' guerdon due, 260 
 
 His Prince's smile of friendship true, 
 Britannia's plaudit and caress, 
 Or when the lips of beauty press ? 
 When shall Ierne greet her son, 
 
 Her glorious, conquering Wellington, 265 
 
 Who by his bright heroic deeds, 
 The Northern Powers to vict'ry leads ; 
 By whose example taught they learn 
 The wreath of liberty to earn ; 
 
 The tyrant's bandage off to shake, 270 
 
 The chains of slavery to break ; 
 They learn the value of a throne, 
 Which they indeed may call their own ; 
 'Twas he first lit the torch of fire 
 By which their icy souls aspire, 275 
 
78 WELLINGTON. 
 
 For freemen's rights, and rous'd the flame 
 
 Which vented only in a name ; 
 
 But now is blazing far and wide, 
 
 And sweeping like a rolling tide 
 
 The invader's hosts, who soon shall yield, 280 
 
 And leave to Liberty the field ! 
 
 When Britain's foes are made to feel 
 The strength and power of Britain's steel, 
 When Spain's young monarch takes the throne, 
 From which the tyrant drove him down ; 285 
 
 When pois'd on equilibrium true 
 The European states shall view 
 Freedom and Peace their conquest spread, 
 And white winged commerce lift her head ; 
 When France, proud France, where despot reigns, 290 
 Shall bind the tyrant with the chains 
 
CANTO THIRD. 79 
 
 In which he thought the wcrld to lead, 
 
 While yet he held th' ensanguin'd blade, 
 
 Then Wellington shall seek repose, 
 
 Where twines the shamrock with the rose, 295 
 
 And calm recline in beauty's arms, 
 
 And dream of war, and war's alarms ; 
 
 There 'neath mild Brunswick's gentle sway, 
 
 His noon of life shall glide away, 
 
 His brow with civic honors crown'd, 300 
 
 His silver locks with chaplets bound, 
 
 His manly form retaining still 
 
 An emblem of his matchless skill, 
 
 Shall there recline in balmy peace, 
 
 And all his toils and troubles cease. 305 
 
 On the fair bosom of the west, 
 Sinks the faint sun at eve to rest $ ; 
 
80 WELLINGTON. 
 
 At morn in orient beauties grac'd, 
 
 Away night's sombre shades he chas'd, 
 
 Bright'ning in glory as he pass'd 310 
 
 O'er the immeasurable vast ; 
 
 His glittering chariot downward bending, 
 
 To fairer, brighter worlds descending, 
 
 His tints assume a richer hue, 
 
 And o'er the amber-shaded blue, 315 
 
 Spreading his golden mantle wide, 
 
 He seems beneath the earth to glide, 
 
 And in his last, his faintest ray 
 
 Outdoes his brightest beams of day, 
 
 Leaving his richest streaks behind, 320 
 
 His morning, noon, and eve combin'd. 
 
 Thus shall the hero sink beneath 
 The faintly-closing shades of death, 
 
CANTO THIRD. 81 
 
 And leave a ray more bright, more clear, 
 
 Than mark'd the heighth of his career. 325 
 
 And here, nor can the muse refrain, 
 
 To wake a deeply mournful strain, 
 
 For him who 'neath a load of years, 
 
 A load of griefless misery bears ; 
 
 For thee the tear shall trickle down, 330 
 
 Who long hast worn Britannia's crown, 
 
 (If yet a tear may dim the eye 
 
 Of him who tells of victory). 
 
 Thou Gracious Power, whose cheering ray 
 
 Chases the clouds of grief away, 335 
 
 Dispels the vapours from the mind, 
 
 And heals the wounds where sorrow pin d, 
 
 Now hear thy people's suppliant pray'r, 
 
 Be Brunswick's life thy tenderest care, 
 M 
 
82 WELLINGTON. 
 
 And ere he meets his final hour, 340 
 
 May reason re-assume her power, 
 
 And ev'ry mist of darkness flown, 
 
 May George once more ascend the throne, 
 
 Sacred to him, and him alone. 
 
 But on what highly favor'd land 345 
 
 Shall the proud mausoleum stand, 
 Whose towering cone, and polish'd base, 
 Shall be an emblem of each grace 
 Which decks the Chief of Erin's mind, 
 Where every virtue is enshrined ? 350 
 
 On his own native " Emerald Isle," 
 Where first the morning saw him smile, 
 Where first by martial themes impress'd, 
 Valor inspired his youthful breast, 
 
CANTO THIRD. 83 
 
 For feats of arms, for deeds as bold 
 
 As e'er by Grecian bard were told ; 
 
 Where (glowing with a kindred flame,) 
 
 To raise a pillar to his name, 
 
 A patriotic, noble band, 
 
 Have coalesced with heart and hand, 660 
 
 To say to many a distant age, 
 
 When time shall blot out hist'ry's page, 
 
 ^ Remember Erin's matchless son, 
 
 " Remember Erin's Wellington," 
 
 Where, from their hoary-headed sire, 365 
 
 Hibernians children shall enquire, 
 
 Whose is this monument, or why 
 
 Seems it with Heaven's blue arch to vie ? 
 
 Where the young minstrel now appears, 
 And takes the harp which lay for years, 370 
 
84 WELLINGTON. 
 
 Untouch'd by soothing, skilful hand, 
 
 And pours a lay so soft and grand, 
 
 As makes Ierne give a smile, 
 
 To hear once more her sea-green isle, 
 
 Swell the lov'd notes, and wake the string 375 
 
 Which often made her mountains ring r 
 
 And now shall pour its magic laysy 
 
 To celebrate the warrior's praise. 
 
 There, mocking time's encroaching power, 
 Unmov'd the stately pile shall tower, 380 
 
 Till the rude cliff of Erin's shore 
 Can stay the rolling surge no more, 
 Till the Green Isle shall pass away y 
 At the great trumpet-sounding day* 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Etttro&uctiotn 
 
 Line 21. — Who oft to gain her pebbly shore, 
 Unfurl' d the sail and plied the oar. 
 
 M. HE. frequent incursions of the English and Scots on the coasts of Ireland, for the 
 purposes of rapine and plunder, are too well known to require any comment. It will also be 
 remembered how valiantly the Irish Chieftains defended their country against those lawless 
 intruders. 
 
 Line 27. — And oft at midnight's sacred hour,. 
 From some old ivy-crusted tower. 
 
 There are scarcely any of the peasantry in the southern parts of Ireland, who do not 
 tell many wonderful stories of strange sights which either they, or some of their fore^ 
 fathers have seen near the ancient castles, of which a great many ruins still remain; and 
 more especially where any of the Druids are said to have been. And indeed many of our 
 Irish Historians deal so much in the marvellous, that in the present aera we are almost led to 
 suspect, that they originated merely in the phantasms of the brain, and in the credulity of 
 the ignorant. 
 
86 NOTES. 
 
 Line 43. — But though thou may'st with triumph boast 
 Of warrior Chiefs a mighty host, 
 As ever raised a nation's fame, 
 Or gave to monarchy a name. 
 
 This assertion may appear rather strong ; however it is presumed it will be found to be 
 correct, as there is scarcely a line of Irish History which cannot bear testimony to the truth of 
 it ; not taking into consideration those which are hid in the margin of its page. A pretty 
 accurate catalogue of some of the most renowned Sons of Erin, will be found in the no less 
 beautiful than patriotic Poem, " The Emerald Isle," by Charles Phillips, Esq. 
 
 Line 59. — Or have the critic harpies torn 
 
 From off their brow the laurel worn, fyc. 
 
 There are at present, or were very lately, a set of Reviewers in the sister country, and 
 (to their shame be it told) some of them were once Irishmen, who have only to look into the 
 title-page of any new publication, and an Irishman being the author is with them sufficient cause 
 to damn it, although it were ever so meritorious. — The author of the present puerile sketch 
 cannot, therefore, expect much mercy, when even good works have suffered from their 
 rapacity. 
 
 Line 63. — Or do they mourn their nobles flown, 
 Who blush their native land to own. 
 
 The Absentees of Ireland have been the subject of such justly severe criticism and censure, 
 that the Author feels himself inadequate to say any thing more pointed on the subject, than 
 has been already brought forward in our modern publications, particularly in Miss Edgworth's 
 justly esteemed Work, " The Absentee" which cannot be too often perused, or highly 
 admired. 
 
J&Ot£& 
 
NOTES. 
 
 (tWttt $tx$U 
 
 Line 46.- — Where Dangan Castle turrets tower. 
 
 HE seat of Garret, Earl of Mornington, where the Noble Marquis was born, in May 
 of the year, 1769. 
 
 Line 89, — Now o'er old Eton's heights sublime, 
 With giant strides behold him climb. 
 
 The Noble Marquis received the rudiments of his education at Eton College, and after, 
 passing through the various classes with the greatest eclat, he was removed to the Military 
 Academy at Angiers, in France, where he finished his education. 
 
 Line 127,— Moira thou know'st his value well. 
 
 In the memorable retreat of Earl Moira through Flanders, Colonel Wellesley com- 
 manded a Brigade of Infantry ; and, as on all other occasions, we find him taking a conspicuous 
 part, and exercising that skill and judgment which has shewn him to be superior to any other 
 General that History can boast of. 
 
 N 
 
90 NOTES, 
 
 Line 151. — On India's plains he next appears. 
 
 Acting under Lieutenant-General Harris, who had been appointed to the command 3 
 of the Madras Army in 1 799> he distinguished himself at the head of a separate body of troops, 
 consisting of 15,000 of the Nizam's subsidiary force, while penetrating into the Mysore 
 Country ; and at the taking of Seringapatam, on the 4th of May in that year, he received 
 Thanks in Public Orders from General Harris, for " the gallant intrepidity of his conduct 
 " in command of the Reserve." 
 
 Line 155. — When Dhodia JVaugh behind the rock 
 Of Connahull position took. 
 
 In prosecution of the vigorous and enlightened measures which the Marquis of 
 Wellesley had adopted for the security of our Indian Empire, Colonel Wellesley in 
 the month of September, 1801, took the field against the freebooter Dhodia Waugh, of whom 
 it was determined to make a severe example, in retaliation for the excesses he had committed 
 on the possessions of the East-India Company. 
 
 After a series of rapid movements, he intercepted his force at Connahull, where it was 
 strongly posted ; having its van and left covered by that rock and village. 
 
 Although Colonel Wellesley's cavalry had not come up, he determined on an imme- 
 diate attack, and placing himself at the head of the 19th and 25th light dragoons, and 1st and 2d 
 regiments of native cavalry, which he extended into one line, to prevent his being out-flanked, 
 he advanced upon the enemy. Dhodia' s force shewed much firmness; but could not with- 
 stand the rapidity and fury of the charge — They gave way, and were pursued for several miles, 
 Dhodia himself, and a great number of his followers were killed, and the whole body con^ 
 pletely and effectually dispersed. 
 
 Line 167.— And rescued Poonah from the fate 
 Threatened by Holkars deadly hate. 
 
 In 1802, the Mahratta war having commenced, it became necessary to detach a part of 
 the force which Lord Clive, (then at the head of the Madras Government,) had assembled 1 . 
 
CANTO FIRST. 91 
 
 towards Poonah, the capital of the Peishwa, our ally, which was menaced by Scindia and 
 Holkar; Major-General Wellesley, which rank he had now obtained, was selected for this 
 important command. Having under him 12,000 men, he deemed it expedient to advance with 
 the greatest rapidity towards Poonah, as it was known that Holkar was in possession of that 
 capital, and the person of the Peishwa. On the night of the 19th of April, 1803, information 
 having been received, that it was the determination of Holkar to plunder and burn Poonah, on 
 the approach of the British troops, General Wellesley pushed forward over a rugged and 
 difficult country, and through a dangerous pass ; and after a forced march of sixty miles, reached 
 the Peishwa's capital in the short period of thirty-two hours. The astonishing celerity of this 
 movement saved Poonah from the fate then awaiting it; and in a few days he had the satisfac- 
 tion of restoring this city to its native Sovereign. 
 
 Line 169. — Continuing thus his rapid course 
 
 Near to where Kaitreah owns its source. 
 
 General Wellesley arrived at Nauluair on the 23d of September; here he was 
 informed that the combined Mahratta army was posted within six miles of the ground he 
 intended to occupy, but that the enemy had indicated an intention of breaking up his camp, and 
 retreating on the approach of the British army. General Wellesley instantly perceived that 
 not a moment was to be lost, and with a boldness of resolve which marked the vigour of his 
 judgment, determined to move forward, and force the enemy to a general engagement. Having 
 adopted this resolution, he halted, and refreshed his army, which had already that morning 
 marched fourteen miles ; he then moved forward, and after a further march of six miles, per- 
 formed under the rays of a vertical sun, came in sight of the enemy, who was posted with his 
 right on the village of Bokerdun, his left on that of Assaye, on the northern bank of the river 
 Kaitreah, near to the Adjuntea pass ; Scindia's army consisted of 3,500 cavalry, 10,500 regular 
 infantry, 500 match-locks, 500 rocket-men, and one hundred and ninety pieces of ordnance. 
 General Wellesley's army consisted of only 4,500 men, of whom about 2,000 were 
 Europeans. But this frightful inequality proved to be amply compensated by the superior 
 discipline of the British army, and the eminent abilities of their distinguished Commander, who 
 in leading on the 78th regiment to- charge some of the enemy who had rallied, and turned upon 
 the British, was in the most imminent personal danger, having his horse shot under him. 
 
 N 2 
 
92 NOTES. 
 
 Line 228. — And' gainst the Rajah of Berar 
 
 He turns the sweeping tide of war. 
 
 Hav ing turned his attention to the Rajah of Berar's army, which after a most fatiguing and 
 unremitting pursuit, from the 25th of October till the 25th of November, he succeeded in over- 
 taking. This army he defeated on the Plains of Agram, in as decisive a manner as he had done 
 that of Scindia at .Assaye. 
 
 Line 238. — But yet one fortress there remained, 
 Of tested strength, Gawilgar namd. 
 
 He next turned his victorious arms against the only remaining fortress of any importance 
 belonging to the enemy ; an almost impregnable citadel, named Gawilgar, seated on the summit 
 of a steep hill. On the night of the 1 2th of December the batteries were opened, and a 
 practicable breach having been effected, it was carried on the morning of the 14th by escalade. 
 
 Line 245.— For Scindia joined his powerful hand 
 To tranquillize the jarring land. 
 
 The brilliant enterprise of the taking of Gawilgar having brought the war to a conclusion, 
 the Rajah of Berar, terrified and amazed at the rapidity of General Wellesley's operations, 
 determined on concluding a peace, without waiting for the concurrence of his ally, Scindia, 
 which was concluded two days after; and on the 30th Scindia also made peace ; and both treaties 
 were speedily ratified by the Governor General at Calcutta, and excited the admiration of India, 
 not only for the decision and dispatch with which these acts of diplomacy were executed, but for 
 the moderation and equity which were evident in the conditions. General Wellesley in the 
 whole of this contest proved to the world that he possessed, in an eminent degree, those talents 
 for council, as well as for the field, which cannot, without the greatest disadvantage, be 
 separated, 
 
CANTO FIRST. 98 
 
 Line 259. — With beauteous sword of value great 
 Present the hero, tyc. 
 
 The Author has taken the liberty to introduce those seemingly minor transactions, to 
 evidence that it was solely innate merit, which raised the Noble Marquis to the exalted situation 
 he now holds, with so much honour to himself and to his country ; and that he was not pushed 
 forward by the kind patronage or influence of friends in power. 
 
 The Mahratta war being brought to a fortunate conclusion, the General found the reward 
 of his victories in the gratitude and love of his countrymen. A sword, valued at £1000, was 
 presented by the inhabitants of Calcutta ; thanks were voted to him by both Houses of Parlia- 
 ment, and his Sovereign honoured him with the insignia of the first Military Order in Europe, by 
 creating him a Knight of the Bath. Added to which, the companions of his toils and dangers, 
 as a token of their esteem and regard, presented him with a gold vase, of 2000 guineas value. 
 
 Line 282. — We here behold him, take a seat, 
 
 Where Britain's Lords and Commons meet. 
 
 Sir Arthur Wellesley, on his return from Hanover, where he had been with Lord 
 Cathcart, represented an Irish borough in the British Parliament, during the short-lived 
 administration of Lord Grenville, and took an active part in the debates, as far as concerned 
 his brother the Marquis Wellesley, whose measures, as Governor of India, were then under 
 discussion. 
 
 Line 305. — To Hafnias shores he now proceeds. 
 
 When Lord Cathcart proceeded to the Baltic, with the expedition against Copen- 
 hagen, Sir Arthur commanded a division; and again distinguished himself by defeating a 
 detachment of Danes near Kioge. 
 
 It may appear strange, that the transactions which took place in India have been dwelt on 
 at greater length than those in the Peninsula. It was at first the intention of the Author, to giv« 
 
94 NOTES. 
 
 a full account of the different battles as they occurred ; but he found himself inadequate to the 
 task ; and therefore thought it advisable to give the more remote ones, conceiving, that as they 
 are not generally known, they will prove most acceptable. The battles of Talavera and Vittoria 
 appearing the most brilliant, he has taken more pains to describe them. The same cause has 
 prevented him from giving the Notes on the affairs of Spain and Portugal, in as detailed a 
 manner as he at first intended ; believing, that being of so recent a date, they must be fresh in 
 the recollection of every one, and would only be irksome and tedious. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 ©anto gcccnJj* 
 
 Line 48. — So quickly o'er the mantling wave, 
 Fly Britain's armies, ever brave, 
 To set a suffering nation free, 
 To plead the cause of Liberty " 
 
 JlN the summer of 1808 the British Government having assembled an army for the purpose 
 of proceeding to Portugal, with a view of endeavouring to rescue the Peninsula from the yoke 
 of France, Sir Arthur Wellesley was appointed to the command of it. 
 
 Early in August, being joined by the division under Major-General Spencer, Sir 
 Arthur attacked General Laborde on the 17th of the same month, at Rolica, and drove 
 the enemy from the strong ground he occupied. 
 
 Line 94. — But soon the Gallic Chief Junot 
 Rallies the lately vanquished foe. 
 
 On the 21st of August General Junot having assembled the whole French force in Por- 
 tugal, advanced to attack the British near the village of Vimiera. Sir Arthur Wellesley 
 had received a further reinforcement of troops from England, under the command of Generals 
 Ac land and Anstruther, and gained a complete victory over his boasting antagonist. 
 
96 NOTES. 
 
 Line 133. — But who is this with high command^ 
 That stays the gallant warrior s hand? 
 
 During the action Lieutenant-General Sir Harry Burrard arrived in the field, but 
 considered the dispositions made by Sir Arthur Wellesley, so masterly, as to obviate the 
 necessity of any change. He, however, disapproved of pursuing the routed enemy, so that the 
 victory was rendered incomplete, and on the following day the enemy were no longer in con- 
 fusion, but had resumed their positions. The relative situations of the two armies had changed 
 in that short time ; and that of the French was greatly improved, by our having neglected to 
 follow up the blow which had been struck the preceding day. On the 30th a convention was 
 concluded at Cintra, and ratified next day by Sir Hugh Dalrymple, then in command of 
 the British army. Sir Arthur did not immediately return to England after this battle ; how* 
 ever he did not take any active part till his return, 
 
 Line 155, — To deck the tomb of valiant Moore, 
 
 The ever to be lamented Sir John Moore arrived from England as third in command, 
 soon after the battle of Vimiera. On learning the particulars of the action, he bestowed warm 
 praises on Sir Arthur Wellesley. He declared to Sir Hugh Dalrymple, that he 
 wished to wave all pretentions derived from his seniority; that as Sir Arthur had done so 
 much, it was but fair he should take the lead in any intended operations against Lisbon, and 
 if the good of the service should require, he would execute any part that was allotted him, 
 without interfering with Sir .Arthur Wellesley — No small mark of the high opinion enter* 
 tained by the deceased hero, of the talents and abilities of the gallant Marquis, 
 
 Line 192.— JBut'neath the yoke had Spain still groan d. 
 
 Th e British Ministry could not witness the attempts of the French Ruler to effect the 
 subjugation of the Peninsula, without further efforts in aid of the patriotic exertions which were 
 still continued throughout those countries. On the 9th of March, 1809, Sir Arthur Wel- 
 Lesley landed at Lisbon, to take command of the army, and on the 2d of May he arrived at 
 Coimbra, wheie the whole of the army, amounting to about 18,000 men, were now assembled. 
 He reviewed his force in the plain below tlie city, and next day commenced his march in the 
 
CANTO FIRST. 97 
 
 direction of Oporto. After various movements and recontres, the cavalry and advance of the 
 Anglo-Portuguese army, passed the Vouga on the 10th of May, and defeated a considerable 
 body of the enemy's cavalry, and a few infantry. Next day the army came up with the enemy's 
 advanced guard, consisting of about 5,000 men, and defeated them on the heights near Grijo, 
 from whence they retired across the Dourp, in the course of the night, and detroyed the bridge 
 of boats. Marshal Soult hoped by this measure to arrest the progress of the combined 
 army, but he was little acquainted with the talents and resources of its distinguished Leader. On 
 reaching the banks of the river, Sir Arthur pushed over a small force, under General 
 Sir Edward Paget, who maintained himself in Oporto until reinforcements arrived, when 
 Jhe French were driven out with great loss. 
 
 Line 235. — Yes, on thy blood-impurpled fields 
 Famed Talavera, fyc* 
 
 About the middle of June the British army quitted the banks of the Tagus, and advanced 
 into Spain, for the purpose of co-operating with General Cuesta. On the 22d the combined 
 army advanced to Talavera de la Reyna, where the enemy was dislodged in the course of the 
 morning, by the advance of the British and Spaniards ; the French retired upon their main 
 body, posted on the left bank of the Alberche, closely pursued. On the 26th Joseph Bojiaparte 
 having collected the whole of his disposable force, amounting to about 47,000 men, drove in the 
 advanced guard of the Spaniards, who retired in a disorderly manner across the Alberche, to the 
 position in front of Talavera. On the 27th, at two in the afternoon, the enemy crossed the 
 Alberche, which was every where fordable, and attacked Major-General Mackenzie, who 
 retired upon the position that had been taken up by Sir Arthur VifELLESLEY. The inten- 
 tion of the enemy to try the result of a general engagement, was now no longer doubtful. The 
 battle, it will be recollected, lasted two days, the British army acting chiefly on the defensive. 
 The principal efforts of the enemy were directed, for the first day, against Major-General Sir 
 Kowland Hill. They made an attack upon the same position during the night, and 
 resumed it the next morning ; but were successively repulsed, with immense loss, by that 
 gallant General. About the middle of the second day they were driven at the point of the 
 bayonet by Brigadier-General Campbell, who commanded the right of the British ; and 
 O 
 
98 NOTES. 
 
 finally, after having been defeated in an attack made upon the centre of the combined army, the 
 French withdrew the remainder of their columns, and commenced their retreat across the 
 
 Alberche to St. Alalia. 
 
 Line 258. — Yet why is dull the Chieftain's eye, 
 
 Why starts the deep and thoughtful sigh. 
 
 The evening previous to the battle, the mind of the gallant General was perceived to be 
 extremely agitated, and an expression of deep thoughtfuhiess saddened the usually animated 
 countenance of the Chief, as he rode along the line. The troops had for some days received a. 
 very scanty supply of provisions ; and the feelings of the British General were agonized by the 
 privations of his brave soldiers. Every representation had been made without avail, to hasten 
 the arrival of supplies from Placentia, and General Cuesta treated the wants of the British 
 with a marked indifference. 
 
 Line 338. — But mark the cause why vie fry shines. 
 
 Sir Arthur Wellesley, surrounded by his Staff, observed the progress of the battle on 
 a height to the left of the British line. From this point he witnessed every movement that 
 was made, and in the midst of the hottest fire, issued the necessary orders, with his characteristic 
 coolness and judgment. Two of his Aids-de-Camp, Captains Bouvere and Burgh, were 
 wounded by his side. 
 
NOTES, 
 
 <&mto Cfurfc* 
 
 Line 7. — As messenger of pitying Heaven, 
 
 With powerful hand he thence has driven, 
 The Inquisitions hated bands, fyc. 
 
 1 HE Noble Marquis could not behold with complacency a country for whose liberty the 
 British nation were making the greatest exertions, still groaning under the weight of that most 
 horrible of tribunals, " The Inquisition," from which every other nation had been tor a length 
 of time delivered ; he took frequent opportunities of representing to the Cortes and those in power 
 the necessity of its being completely abolished ere the Spanish nation could boast of freedom ; 
 and had at length the unspeakable satisfaction of beholding them throw off that yoke, and in- 
 troduce a Tribunal more lenient and less arbitrary, founded on principles of justice and modera- 
 tion ; and he now beholds Spain, through the vista of hope, emerging from beneath those 
 clouds of gloom and superstition which so long overshadowed her. 
 
 Line 19. — Nor Portugal be heard to moan 
 
 Beneath the earthquake's frightful groan. 
 
 It will be recollected that in November 1755, the capital of Portugal was levelled 
 with the ground by a tremendous earthquake, which was succeeded by a general conflagration, 
 owing to the great number of lights burning at the altars in the churches and convents, for the 
 festival of the Auto de Fe. 
 
100 NOTES. 
 
 Line 494. — To see his conquering standard reard 
 Where noble MdwaroVs once appear d. 
 
 The battle of Vittoria was fought nearly on the spot with another, in which a victory, 
 obtained by the English, restored a legitimate Sovereign to the throne of Spain. Within sight 
 of the enemy's positions on the 23d of June, and only a few miles higher up the same stream, 
 the Zadora, stands the village of Navarete, where, on the 3d of April, 1367, Edward the 
 Black Prince totally defeated Henry the Bastard, and in consequence seated Don Pedro on the 
 throne of Castille. Froissart, who gives a lively description of this engagement, observes of 
 Sir John Chandos, the most eminent among the English Knights, that " he never thought 
 during the day of making any prisoners ; but was solely occupied in fighting and pushing 
 forward." The most striking passage, however, in this account is, that in which he describes 
 the approach of the two armies toward each other, when, i( a little before they met, the Prince 
 of Wales, with eyes and hands uplifted towards Heaven, exclaimed, 'God of Truth, Father of 
 Jesus Christ, who has made and fashioned me, grant through thy benign grace, that the 
 success of this battle may be for me and my army ; for thou knowest that in truth, I have been 
 solely emboldened to undertake it in the support of justice and reason, to reinstate this King upon 
 his throne, who has been disinherited and driven from it, as well as from his country." 
 
 This zealous prayer was immediataly followed by the onset, the Prince crying aloud 
 *' Advance banners, in the name of God and St. George." — " At the commencement," says 
 an old historian, " the French and Arroganians made a desperate resistance, and gave the 
 good Knights of England much trouble ;'' but at last, " when all the divisions of the Prince 
 were formed into one large body, " the enemy could no longer keep their ground, but began 
 to fly in great disorder f and Henry (the Usurper) " perceiving his army defeated, without hope 
 of recovery, called for his horse, mounted it, and gallopped off among the crowd of runaways." 
 
 The English pursued them through the town of Najara, where they gained considerable 
 plunder ; for Henry and his army came thither with much splendor, and after the defeat they 
 had not leisure to place in security what they had left behind them in the morning. 
 
CANTO THIRD. 101 
 
 It may not be improper here to state, that the author, in noticing some of the British 
 Officers who distinguished themselves in the various engagements in the Peninsula, could not 
 make any particular selection more than those who appeared to him to be most in action. As he 
 could not possibly have spoken of each individual, he would beg his inadequacy to the task to be 
 taken as an excuse for not mentioning those names who had an equal claim upon his attention. 
 One General in particular merits his warmest and most heartfelt eulogium, the renowned 
 Marshal Beresford. However, a sentiment (perhaps inimical to the general feeling) enter- 
 tained by the Author, was the cause which actuated him in this. He always looked on the 
 exertions of the people of the Peninsula,* as by no means commensurate with what they might 
 and ought to have made. From the moment the British army first landed on their shores, they 
 treated them with that marked inattention and negligence which must have astonished every 
 one who has but taken the slightest survey of the subject. Their imbecility might have been 
 admitted as an excuse for their having done so very little for their emancipation, if they had 
 but come forward with promptitude, and evinced a disposition to co-operate in the measures 
 adopted by the British General. But no example or entreaty could arouse them from the 
 oscitancy which they have manifested on every occasion. Every thing has been done in that 
 dilatory and lethargic manner which can scarcely be accounted for, in a people who profess to 
 be fighting for liberty. The libels* which have been recently published in Spain, and which 
 were seemingly countenanced by that Government, is a striking proof, that if it were not for the 
 very great exertions made by the British Government, the spark of liberty which seemed at first 
 to have been kindled in the breasts of the Spanish nation, Would have been long since extin- 
 guished. Certainly some of those troops who are in the pay of Britain, and have been disci- 
 plined by her officers, have thrown off a good deal of their natural apathy, and now come forward 
 with the intrepidity of veteran warriors ; and though no degree of praise can be too great to 
 bestow on that gallant officer (Beresford) who we have the honor of ranking in the list of 
 Irish heros, and who has taken such pains to organize the Portuguese and Spanish soldiery ; yet 
 as the Author could not speak of him in the terms he wished, without introducing the merits of 
 the troops which he headed, he thought it much better thus to state his reasons, which, he trusts, 
 will prove sufficient excuse. 
 
 * Vide Lord Wellington's late Dispatches^ 
 
102 NOTES. 
 
 Line 266. — Who by his bright heroic deeds, 
 
 The Northern Powers to vict'ry leads. 
 
 The Author cannot here refrain from giving it as his opinion, that were it not for the very 
 spirited manner in which the Marquis Wellington prosecuted the war in the Peninsula, 
 the Continental Powers never would have made the exertions which they have done of late. It 
 was he who first demonstrated that the armies which JSapoleon boasted of as being invincible, 
 (and which seemed to have been the case to almost every other nation with whom they con- 
 tended), were not really so ; that when opposed to British soldiers, they resumed their original 
 nothingness, and were driven at eveiy point by one half their number. If France had not received 
 so severe a check in her usurpation of the Peninsula, and had not the British army retaken at that 
 moment, nearly all the places of which the Tyrant had possessed himself in Spain, would Russia, 
 after having been driven back upon her own frontiers, ever have come to the noble and heroic 
 resolution which she had recourse to ? Would she ever have stretched out her hand, and laid waste 
 those territories, as the invader advanced into them ? Or, would Moscow ever have rolled in 
 flames ? We answer, No ! — That were it not for the precedent given by the British army, 
 Russia never would have made such a sacrifice, nor would Germany, or any other part of the 
 Continent, enjoy that freedom, which their exertions, (under Providence) has been the means 
 of securing for them, and which they are now endeavouring to extend to every part of Europe* 
 by releasing her from the thraldom apd tyranny which she so long groaned under, with scarcely 
 a hope of being extricated. 
 
 Line 345. — But on what highty-favord land 
 Shall the proud mausoleum stand. 
 
 It need scarcely be mentioned, that it is intended to raise a pillar, or national testimonial, 
 to commemorate the gallant achievements of the Irish Hero, and that the feeling of approbation 
 is so general, that nearly all the Noblemen and Gentlemen of Ireland have come forward, in aid 
 of so patriotic an undertaking. 
 
 It is not yet decided on how the money subscribed shall be expended. When the subscrip- 
 tion was at first set on foot, it was understood that a Pillar was the testimonial intended ; how- 
 
CANTO THIRD. 103 
 
 ever, as benevolence is a known characteristic of the warrior, it is thought that the erection of 
 an establishment for the orphans and widows of those brave men who fell under his command, 
 fighting the battles of their country, would be most gratifying to the feelings of the Marquis 
 Wellington. 
 
 Line 369. — JVhere the young minstrel now appears, 
 
 And takes the harp which lay for years, Sfc, 
 
 It must be peculiarly gratifying to every genuine and patriotic Irishman, to hear the 
 sweetly fascinating music of his native harp, which has been once more redeemed from oblivion, 
 and is now pouring forth those melodious strains which in former times roused the Sons of Erin 
 to repel the incursions of the bold invader ; and shall again inspire them with that courage 
 which belongs solely to themselves, and has ever been their prominent characteristic. To the 
 Patriotic Musical Gentlemen of Belfast, they are more particularly indebted, as it was their very 
 great exertions which first brought it into repute, and now support it. 
 
 vjas^snmi 
 
 H. K. CAUSTON, Printer, 
 Birchin-Lane, Comhill, London. 
 
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