Don Juan
Page 32
Battles to the command, Field Marshal Suvaroff.
40
The letter of the Prince to the same Marshal
Was worthy of a Spartan, had the cause
Been one to which a good heart could be partial,
Defence of freedom, country, or of laws;
But as it was mere lust of power to o’erarch all
With its proud brow, it merits slight applause,
Save for its style, which said all in a trice,
‘You will take Ismail at whatever price.’
41
‘Let there be light, ’ said God, and there was light!
‘Let there be blood, ’ says man, and there’s a sea!
The fiat of this spoiled child of the night
(For day ne’er saw his merits) could decree
More evil in an hour than thirty bright
Summers could renovate, though they should be
Lovely as those which ripened Eden’s fruit,
For war cuts up not only branch, but root.
42
Our friends the Turks, who with loud ‘Allahs’ now
Began to signalize the Russ retreat,
Were damnably mistaken. Few are slow
In thinking that their enemy is beat
(Or beaten if you insist on grammar, though
I never think about it in a heat),
But here I say the Turks were much mistaken,
Who hating hogs, yet wished to save their bacon.
43
For on the sixteenth at full gallop drew
In sight two horsemen, who were deemed Cossacks
For some time, till they came in nearer view.
They had but little baggage at their backs,
For there were but three shirts between the two;
But on they rode upon two Ukraine hacks,
Till in approaching were at length descried
In this plain pair, Suwarrow and his guide.
44
‘Great joy to London now!’ says some great fool
When London had a grand illumination,
Which to that bottle-conjurer, John Bull,
Is of all dreams the first hallucination.
So that the streets of coloured lamps are full,
That sage (said John) surrenders at discretion
His purse, his soul, his sense, and even his nonsense
To gratify like a huge moth this one sense.
45
’Tis strange that he should further ‘damn his eyes’,
For they are damned. That once all famous oath
Is to the devil now no further prize,
Since John has lately lost the use of both.
Debt he calls wealth, and taxes, paradise;
And Famine with her gaunt and bony growth,
Which stare him in the face, he won’t examine,
Or swears that Ceres hath begotten famine.
46
But to the tale. Great joy unto the camp!
To Russian, Tartar, English, French, Cossack,
O’er whom Suwarrow shone like a gas lamp,
Presaging a most luminous attack;
Or like a wisp along the marsh so damp,
Which leads beholders on a boggy walk,
He flitted to and fro a dancing light,
Which all who saw it followed, wrong or right.
47
But certes matters took a different face.
There was enthusiasm and much applause;
The fleet and camp saluted with great grace
And all presaged good fortune to their cause.
Within a cannon shot length of the place
They drew, constructed ladders, repaired flaws
In former works, made new, prepared fascines
And all kinds of benevolent machines.
48
’Tis thus the spirit of a single mind
Makes that of multitudes take one direction,
As roll the waters to the breathing wind,
Or roams the herd beneath the bull’s protection,
Or as a little dog will lead the blind,
Or a bellwether form the flock’s connexion
By tinkling sounds when they go forth to victual;
Such is the sway of your great men o’er little.
49
The whole camp rung with joy; you would have thought
That they were going to a marriage feast.
(This metaphor, I think, holds good as aught,
Since there is discord after both at least.)
There was not now a luggage boy but sought
Danger and spoil with ardour much increased.
And why? Because a little, odd, old man,
Stript to his shirt, was come to lead the van.
50
But so it was, and every preparation
Was made with all alacrity. The first
Detachment of three columns took its station
And waited but the signal’s voice to burst
Upon the foe. The second’s ordination
Was also in three columns with a thirst
For glory gaping o’er a sea of slaughter.
The third in columns two attacked by water.
51
New batteries were erected, and was held
A general council, in which unanimity,
That stranger to most councils, here prevailed,
As sometimes happens in a great extremity.
And every difficulty being dispelled,
Glory began to dawn with due sublimity,
While Suvaroff, determined to obtain it,
Was teaching his recruits to use the bayonet.
52
It is an actual fact that he, commander
In chief, in proper person deigned to drill
The awkward squad and could afford to squander
His time, a corporal’s duty to fulfil.
Just as you’d break a sucking salamander
To swallow flame and never take it ill,
He showed them how to mount a ladder (which
Was not like Jacob’s) or to cross a ditch.
53
Also he dressed up, for the nonce, fascines
Like men with turbans, scimitars and dirks,
And made them charge with bayonet these machines
By way of lesson against actual Turks.
And when well practised in these mimic scenes,
He judged them proper to assail the works,
At which your wise men sneered in phrases witty;
He made no answer, but he took the city.
54
Most things were in this posture on the eve
Of the assault, and all the camp was in
A stern repose, which you would scarce conceive.
Yet men resolved to dash through thick and thin
Are very silent when they once believe
That all is settled. There was little din,
For some were thinking of their home and friends,
And others of themselves and latter ends.
55
Suwarrow chiefly was on the alert,
Surveying, drilling, ordering, jesting, pondering;
For the man was, we safely may assert,
A thing to wonder at beyond most wondering –
Hero, buffoon, half-demon and half-dirt,
Praying, instructing, desolating, plundering,
Now Mars, now Momus, and when bent to storm
A fortress, Harlequin in uniform.
56
The day before the assault, while upon drill
(For this great conqueror played the corporal),
Some Cossacks hovering like hawks round a hill
Had met a party towards the twilight’s fall,
One of whom spoke their tongue or well or ill
(’Twas much that he was understood at all),
But whether from his voice or speech or manner,
They found t
hat he had fought beneath their banner.
57
Whereon immediately at his request
They brought him and his comrades to headquarters.
Their dress was Moslem, but you might have guessed
That these were merely masquerading Tartars
And that beneath each Turkish-fashioned vest
Lurked Christianity, which sometimes barters
Her inward grace for outward show and makes
It difficult to shun some strange mistakes.
58
Suwarrow, who was standing in his shirt
Before a company of Calmucks, drilling,
Exclaiming, fooling, swearing at the inert,
And lecturing on the noble art of killing –
For deeming human clay but common dirt,
This great philosopher was thus instilling
His maxims, which to martial comprehension
Proved death in battle equal to a pension –
59
Suwarrow, when he saw this company
Of Cossacks and their prey, turned round and cast
Upon them his stern brow and piercing eye.
‘Whence come ye?’ ‘From Constantinople last,
Captives just now escaped, ’ was the reply.
‘What are ye?’ ‘What you see us.’ Briefly past
This dialogue, for he who answered knew
To whom he spoke and made his words but few.
60
‘Your names?’ ‘Mine’s Johnson, and my comrade’s Juan,
The other two are women, and the third
Is neither man nor woman.’ The Chief threw on
The party a slight glance, then said, ‘I have heard
Your name before, the second is a new one.
To bring the other three here was absurd,
But let that pass. I think I have heard your name
In the Nikolaiew regiment?’ ‘The same.’
61
‘You served at Widdin?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘You led the attack?’
‘I did.’ ‘What next?’ ‘I really hardly know.’
‘You were the first i’ the breach?’ ‘I was not slack
At least to follow those who might be so.’
‘What followed?’ ‘A shot laid me on my back,
And I became a prisoner to the foe.’
‘You shall have vengeance, for the town surrounded
Is twice as strong as that where you were wounded.
62
‘Where will you serve?’ ‘Where’er you please.’ ‘I know
You like to be the hope of the forlorn
And doubtless would be foremost on the foe
After the hardships you’ve already borne.
And this young fellow, say what can he do,
He with the beardless chin and garments torn?’
‘Why, General, if he hath no greater fault
In war than love, he had better lead the assault.’
63
‘He shall if that he dare.’ Here Juan bowed
Low as the compliment deserved. Suwarrow
Continued, ‘Your old regiment’s allowed
By special providence to lead tomorrow,
Or it may be tonight, the assault. I have vowed
To several saints that shortly plough or harrow
Shall pass o’er what was Ismail, and its tusk
Be unimpeded by the proudest mosque.
64
‘So now, my lads, for glory!’ Here he turned
And drilled away in the most classic Russian,
Until each high, heroic bosom burned
For cash and conquest, as if from a cushion
A preacher had held forth (who nobly spurned
All earthly goods save tithes) and bade them push on
To slay the pagans, who resisted, battering
The armies of the Christian Empress Catherine.
65
Johnson, who knew by this long colloquy
Himself a favourite, ventured to address
Suwarrow, though engaged with accents high
In his resumed amusement. ‘I confess
My debt in being thus allowed to die
Among the foremost, but if you’d express
Explicitly our several posts, my friend
And self would know what duty to attend.’
66
‘Right. I was busy and forgot. Why, you
Will join your former regiment, which should be
Now under arms. Ho! Katskoff, take him to –’
(Here he called up a Polish orderly.)
‘His post I mean, the regiment Nikolaiew.
The stranger stripling may remain with me;
He’s a fine boy. The women may be sent
To the other baggage or to the sick tent.’
67
But here a sort of scene began to ensue.
The ladies, who by no means had been bred
To be disposed of in a way so new,
Although their harem education led
Doubtless to that of doctrines the most true,
Passive obedience, now raised up the head
With flashing eyes and starting tears and flung
Their arms, as hens their wings about their young,
68
O’er the promoted couple of brave men,
Who were thus honoured by the greatest chief
That ever peopled hell with heroes slain
Or plunged a province or a realm in grief.
Oh foolish mortals! Always taught in vain!
Oh glorious laurel! since for one sole leaf
Of thine imaginary deathless tree,
Of blood and tears must flow the unebbing sea.
69
Suwarrow, who had small regard for tears
And not much sympathy for blood, surveyed
The women with their hair about their ears,
And natural agonies, with a slight shade
Of feeling; for however habit sears
Men’s hearts against whole millions when their trade
Is butchery, sometimes a single sorrow
Will touch even heroes, and such was Suwarrow.
70
He said, and in the kindest Calmuck tone,
‘Why, Johnson, what the devil do you mean
By bringing women here? They shall be shown
All the attention possible and seen
In safety to the wagons, where alone
In fact they can be safe. You should have been
Aware this kind of baggage never thrives.
Save wed a year, I hate recruits with wives.’
71
‘May it please Your Excellency, ’ thus replied
Our British friend, ‘these are the wives of others
And not our own. I am too qualified
By service with my military brothers
To break the rules by bringing one’s own bride
Into a camp. I know that nought so bothers
The hearts of the heroic on a charge
As leaving a small family at large.
72
‘But these are but two Turkish ladies, who
With their attendant aided our escape
And afterwards accompanied us through
A thousand perils in this dubious shape.
To me this kind of life is not so new;
To them, poor things, it is an awkward scrape.
I therefore, if you wish me to fight freely,
Request that they may both be used genteelly.’
73
Meantime these two poor girls with swimming eyes
Looked on as if in doubt if they could trust
Their own protectors; nor was their surprise
Less than their grief (and truly not less just)
To see an old man, rather wild than wise
In aspect, plainly clad, besmeared with dust,
Stript to his waistcoat, and that not too cle
an,
More feared than all the sultans ever seen.
74
For everything seemed resting on his nod,
As they could read in all eyes. Now to them
Who were accustomed, as a sort of god,
To see the Sultan, rich in many a gem,
Like an imperial peacock stalk abroad
(That royal bird, whose tail’s a diadem)
With all the pomp of power, it was a doubt
How power could condescend to do without.
75
John Johnson, seeing their extreme dismay,
Though little versed in feelings oriental,
Suggested some slight comfort in his way.
Don Juan, who was much more sentimental,
Swore they should see him by the dawn of day
Or that the Russian army should repent all;
And strange to say, they found some consolation
In this, for females like exaggeration.
70
And then with tears and sighs and some slight kisses,
They parted for the present, these to await,
According to the artillery’s hits or misses,
What sages call chance, providence, or fate
(Uncertainty is one of many blisses,
A mortgage on humanity’s estate),
While their belovèd friends began to arm
To burn a town which never did them harm.
77
Suwarrow, who but saw things in the gross,
Being much too gross to see them in detail,
Who calculated life as so much dross
And as the wind a widowed nation’s wail
And cared as little for his army’s loss
(So that their efforts should at length prevail)
As wife and friends did for the boils of Job –
What was’t to him, to hear two women sob?
78
Nothing. The work of glory still went on
In preparations for a cannonade
As terrible as that of Ilion,
If Homer had found mortars ready made;
But now instead of slaying Priam’s son,
We only can but talk of escalade,
Bombs, drums, guns, bastions, batteries, bayonets, bullets –
Hard words, which stick in the soft Muses’ gullets.
79
Oh thou eternal Homer! who couldst charm
All ears, though long; all ages, though so short,
By merely wielding with poetic arm,
Arms to which men will never more resort,
Unless gunpowder should be found to harm
Much less than is the hope of every court,
Which now is leagued young freedom to annoy;
But they will not find liberty a Troy.
80
Oh thou eternal Homer! I have now
To paint a siege, wherein more men were slain
With deadlier engines and a speedier blow
Than in thy Greek gazette of that campaign.
And yet like all men else I must allow,