Iberia Won 43

Iberia Won 43

 “But vain each sacrifice--each base compliance

Still prompted France to urge ignobler claims,

For Spain not yet had raised her proud defiance,

And in Fernando’s youth reposed her aims.

Fernando--he but gorged affronts and shames!

The worshipped Heir of all her line of Kings

His bannered Lion to a genet tames,

Follows his aged sire to France, and flings

Iberia’s crown to earth beneath the Usurper’s wings!

 

 

VI.

 

“Oh, wretched mockery of the forms of State,

Oh, farce of Royalty to choke the town!

The sire to-day submits his brow to Fate,

The son to-morrow yieldeth too his crown;

The sire resumes it ’neath Napoléon’s frown,

Again to-morrow to resign its cares--

Is’t not, then just--how just! that, thus laid down,

The Tyrant’s creature now the bauble wears?

The Father lauds the choice--the Son his ardour shares.

 

 

VII.

 

“And both implored of Spaniards to obey

With cordial loyalty the Kingling given,

And both with impious tongue blaspheming say

The usurping dynasty is blest of Heaven!

But Spaniards may not thus be bargain-driven.

Sudden arose the land in all its might;

Sudden its chains like spider-threads were riven.

Too long its slumber--too profound the night;

And when the Nation woke, ’twas in a glare of light!

 

 

VIII.

 

“Oh, Madrileños, generous, dauntless hearts,

Who fell upon that glorious May-lit morn,

Vain is the tear that from the eye-lid starts

At thought of death-wounds all heroic borne,

For Freedom’s blazon doth your biers adorn!

Your blood more potent than Hyantian seed

Sprung arméd men still fiercer death to scorn

Than Thebæ saw. Incomparable deed!

Ye braved the Lion’s roar--your wounds Iberia freed.

 

 

IX.

 

“For though the sabre clove, the charger trod,

The scattering grape-shot mowed your dense array,

Daïz, Velarde gave their souls to God

In no unprospering cause that gallant day!

If hundred martyrs perished in the fray,

’Twas myriad men to rouse through prostrate Spain.

Not Murat’s arm could bend her to obey.

Judicial murder bared the knife in vain--

The priestly rite denied--the unoffending slain!

 

 

X.

 

“Asturia first and noblest raised the cry--

Cantabria still untamed the yoke to bear

Our own Biscaya sees with Baston vie--

Oviédo’s lightning flies to Santandér.

It wakes Galicia, kindling Leon’s air.

Castile, unconquered Aragon, Navarre,

The standard of revolt successive bear.

Valencian, Catalan, and And’luz far

The cry devoted raise: ‘Against the Invader War!’

 

 

XI.

 

“And lightning fell, ’twas said, upon the shrine

Of Guadalupe within the fatal hour

That saw the last of Leon’s Royal line

Retire to France, and own the Usurper’s power.

In Covadonga, where Mafoma’s flower

Pelayo slaughtered, drops of sweat were seen

Upon the face of Her who stood our tower

In battle; Compostella’s tomb a din

Of arms gave forth, Saint James proclaiming we should win!

 

 

XII.

 

“Thus spoke the general voice--thus Spain believed,

And, Heaven and Earth approving, rushed to arms.

The web of Tyranny was swift unweaved,

The land was soon o’erspread by War’s alarms;

For Freedom’s fire once lit intensely charms!

But terrible at first in dire excess

Rude license many a timid patriot harms.

If perished tyrant-tools yet, ah, not less

Good men, too, slaughtered fell in butchery’s helplessness.

 

 

XIII.

 

“’Twas then the Asturian seniors crost the sea,

And I amongst the number, as ye know,

To Albion’s glorious Island of the free,

Her aid demanding ’gainst the general foe.

And grand and mighty was the enthusiast flow

From brave and generous hearts we witnessed there.

Our strife forgot, our feuds aside we throw,

Like ancient warriors after battle share

The social rite, and war combined ’gainst France declare.

 

 

XIV.

 

“But Spain would first her might unaided try,

And arms and subsidy alone we sought;

With pain Britannia curbed her spirit high,

But doughtiest weapons to the strife we brought.

Our earlier efforts in the conflict nought

Availed us--France her legions marshalled well.

Undisciplined our valour marvels wrought;

But ’gainst Gaul’s serried phalanx to rebel

Was no light peasant’s task, and hundreds fighting fell.

 

 

XV.

 

“Oh, wondrous power of Discipline in war!

Spain’s men despised the conscript boys of France;

Iberia’s sons were stronger, statelier far,

More powerful arm to arm to wield the lance.

But when untrained, disordered they advance,

The unbroken, slender column mows them down.

’Tis thus wild horses o’er the Pampas prance,

The lasso by the light-limbed rider’s thrown,

The strong steed flung to earth his victor hand must own.

 

 

XVI.

 

“Joy to Valencia! Loud her praise be sung,

Where first the stern Invader was repelled.

In vain from Hell the assassin Calvo sprung,

In vain her Chiefs in dire subjection held.

Soon ’gainst his traitorous vengeance they rebelled.

His strangled carcase on Domingo’s plain,

His severed arm that many a victim felled,

Inscribed with his foul deeds--relentless Cain--

Proclaim that murderous fiends no more dishonour Spain.

 

 

XVII.

 

“Joy to Valencia! From her leaguered wall,

Full valiantly defended, Moncey flies.

His shattered legions into fragments fall,

So well her grape and musketry she plies;

And torn his summons to surrender lies.

This--this her answer:--‘We have sworn beneath

‘Our country’s ruins buried, ere shall rise,

‘A foreign standard here, to yield our breath,’

And France her flag withdrew all dark with hues of death.

 

 

XVIII.

 

“In Santandér Luarca’s mitred head--

Apostle pure--the patriot movement guides;

Priest, peasant, noble gallantly he led,

But, ah, Besaya’s torrent yields its sides;

The Frenchman through the conquered city rides.

Palencia bows her head--Valladolíd

Gives hostages; her might the Gaul derides.

And Torquemada many a peasant-Cid

Sees ’neath French sabres fall her flaming towers amid.

 

 

XIX.

 

“Oh, ruthless grasp of the Invader’s hand!

Yet not for this shall Spain his sceptre own.

In vain _Te Deums_ swell through all the land,

In vain allegiance forced sustains his throne.

Though rebels fall, rebellion hath not flown!

Intrusive, throneless, crownless, mocking King,

No Monarch reigneth save o’er hearts alone!

A Tyrant sent thee, poor and bodiless thing,

But ne’er to rule in Spain--for flight prepare thy wing!