But
whatever
may have been his opportunities of ascertaining the facts
of the case, it is certain (see his note to Canto IV.
of the case, it is certain (see his note to Canto IV.
Byron
, VII.
, VIII.
, of _Don Juan_, he justifies the
inclusion of a stanza or two on Castlereagh, which had been written
"before his decease," and, again, alludes to his suicide. (For an
estimate of his career and character, see _Letters_, 1900, iv. 108, 109,
note 1; and for a full report of the inquest, _The Annual Biography_,
1823, pp. 56-62. )]
[ep]
_Whose penknife saved some nations t'other day_.
_Who shaved his throat by chance the other day_. --[MS. erased. ]
[331] ["The Pilot that weathered the Storm" was written by Canning, to
be recited at a dinner given on Pitt's birthday, May 28, 1802. ]
[eq] {569} _With reason--whate'er it may with rhyme_. --[MS. erased. ]
[332] [George Canning (1770-1827) succeeded Lord Londonderry as Foreign
Secretary, September 8, 1822. He was not a _persona grata_ to George
IV. , who had been offended by Canning's neutral attitude, as a minister,
on the question of the Queen's message (June 7, 1820), and by his avowal
"of an unaltered regard and affection" for that "illustrious personage"
herself. There was, too, the prospect of Catholic Emancipation. In 1821
he had spoken in favour of Plunket's bills, and, the next year (April
30, 1822), he had brought in a bill to remove the disabilities of Roman
Catholic peers from sitting in the House of Lords. If Canning persisted
in his advocacy of Catholic claims, the king's conscience might turn
restive, and urge him to effectual resistance. Hence the warning in
lines 563-567. ]
[333] {570} [Demeter gave Triptolemus a chariot drawn by serpents, and
bade him scatter wheat throughout the world. (See Ovid, _Met. _, lib. v.
lines 642-661. )]
[er] _The mighty monosyllable high_ Rent! --[MS. ]
[es] ----_upon the audit day_. --[MS. M. ]
[334] ["Lord Londonderry proposed (April 29, 1822) that whenever wheat
should be under 60 shillings a quarter, Government should be authorized
to issue ? 1,000,000 in Exchequer bills to landed proprietors on the
security of their crops; that importation of foreign corn should be
permitted whenever the price of wheat should be at or above 70 shillings
a quarter . . . that a sliding-scale should be fixed, that for wheat being
under 80s. a quarter at 12 shillings; above 80s. and below 85s. , at 5
shillings; and above 85s. , only one shilling. "--Allison's _History of
Europe_, 1815-1852, _and_ 1854, ii. 506. The first clause was thrown
out, but the rest of the bill passed May 13, 1822. ]
[et] {571} _For fear that riches_----. --[MS. M. ]
[eu] _Will sell the harvest at a market price_. --[MS. M. ]
[ev] _Are gone--their fields untilled_. --[MS. M. ]
[335] {572}[Peel's bill for the resumption of cash payments (Act 59 Geo.
III. cap. 49) was passed June 14, 1819. The "landed interest" attributed
the fall of prices and the consequent fall of rent to this measure, and
hinted more or less plainly that the fund-holders should share the loss.
They had lent their money when the currency was inflated, and should not
now be paid off in gold.
"But _you_," exclaims Cobbett [Letter to Mr. Western (_Weekly Register_,
November 23, 1822)], "what can induce you to stickle for the Pitt system
[i. e. paper-money]? I will tell you what it is: you loved the _high
prices_, and the domination that they gave you. . . . Besides this, you
think that the _boroughs can be preserved_ by a return to paper-money,
and along with them the hare-and-pheasant law and justice. You loved the
glorious times of paper-money, and you want them back again. You think
that they could go on for ever. . . . The bill of 1819 was really a great
relaxation of the Pitt system, and when you are crying out _spoliation_
and _confiscation_, when you are bawling out so lustily about the robbery
committed on you by the fund-holders and the placemen, and are praising
the infernal Pitt system at the same time, . . . you say they are
receiving, the fund-vagabonds in particular, _more_ than they ought. " It
is evident that Byron's verse is a reverberation of Cobbett's prose. ]
[336] [Petitions were presented by the inhabitants of St. Andrew,
Holborn; St. Botolf, Bishopsgate; and St. Gregory by St. Paul, to the
Court of Common Council, against a tithe-charge of 2s, 9d. in the pound
on their annual rents. --_Morning Chronicle_, November 1, 1822. ]
[337] Lines 614-657 are not in the MS.
[338] {573}[The Symplegades, or "justling rocks," Ovid's _instabiles
Cyaneae_, were supposed to crush the ships which sailed between them. ]
[339] [Alcina, the personification of carnal pleasure in the _Orlando
Furioso_, is the counterpart of Homer's _Circe_. "She enjoyed her lovers
for a time, and then changed them into trees, stones, fountains, or
beasts, as her fancy dictated. " (See Ariosto, _Orlando Furioso_, vi. 35,
_seq_. )]
[340] [There were five brothers Rothschild: Anselm, of Frankfort,
1773-1855; Salomon, of Vienna, 1774-1855; Nathan Mayer, of London,
1777-1836; Charles, of Naples, 1788-1855; and James, of Paris,
1792-1868. In 1821 Austria raised 37-1/2 million guldens through the
firm, and, as an acknowledgment of their services, the Emperor raised
the brothers to the rank of baron, and appointed Baron Nathan Mayer
Consul-General in London, and Baron James to the same post in Paris. In
1822 both Russia (see line 684) and England raised 3-1/2 millions sterling
through the Rothschilds. The "two Jews" (line 686, etc. ) are, probably,
the two Consuls-General. In 1822 their honours were new, and some
mocked. There is the story that Talleyrand once presented the Parisian
brother to Montmorenci as _M. le premier Juif_ to _M. le premier Baron
Chretien_; while another tale, parent or offspring of the preceding,
which appeared in _La Quotidienne_, December 21, 1822, testifies to the
fact, not recorded, that a Rothschild was at Verona during the Congress:
"M. de Rotschild, baron et banquier general des gouvernemens absolus,
s'est, dit-on, rendu an congres, il a ete presente a l'empereur
d'Autriche, et S. M. , en lui remettant une decoration, a daigne lui dire:
'Vous pouvez etre assure, Monsieur, que _la maison d'Autriche_ sera
toujours disposee a reconnaitre vos services et a vous accorder ce qui
pourra vous etre agreable,'--'Votre Majeste,' a repondu le baron
financier, 'pourra toujours egalement compter sur _la maison
Rotschild_. '"--See _The Rothschilds_, by John Reeves, 1886. ]
[341] {574}[In 1822 the Neapolitan Government raised 22,000,000 ducats
through the Rothschilds. ]
[342] {575} Monsieur Chateaubriand, who has not forgotten the author in
the minister, received a handsome compliment at Verona from a literary
sovereign: "Ah! Monsieur C. , are you related to that Chateaubriand
who--who--who has written _something? _" (ecrit _quelque chose! _) It is
said that the author of Atala repented him for a moment of his
legitimacy. [Francois Rene Vicomte de Chateaubriand (1768-1848)
published _Les Martyrs ou le Triomphe de la religion chretienne_ in
1809. ]
[343] [Count Capo d'Istria (b. 1776)--afterwards President of Greece.
The count was murdered, in September, 1831, by the brother and son of a
Mainote chief whom he had imprisoned (note to ed. 1832). Byron may have
believed that Capo d'Istria was still in the service of the Czar, but,
according to Allison, his advocacy of his compatriots the Greeks had led
to his withdrawal from the Russian Foreign Office, and prevented his
taking part in the Congress. It was, however, stated in the papers that
he had been summoned, and was on his way to Verona. ]
[344] [Jean Mathieu Felicite, Duc de Montmorenci (1766-1826), was, in
his youth, a Jacobin. He proposed, August 4, 1789, to abrogate feudal
rights, and June 15, 1790, to abolish the nobility. He was superseded as
plenipotentiary by Chateaubriand, and on his return to Paris created a
duke. Before the end of the year he was called upon to resign his
portfolio as Minister of Foreign Affairs. The king disliked him, and
there were personal disagreements between him and the Prime Minister, M.
de Villele.
The following "gazette" appeared in the _Moniteur_:--
"Ordonnance du Roi. Signe Louis. Art 1^er^ Le Vicomte de Chateaubriand,
pair de France, est nomme ministre secretaire d'etat au departement des
affaires etrangeres. Louis par la grace de Dieu Roi de France et de
Navarre.
"Art. 1^er^ Le Duc Mathieu de Montmorenci, pair de France, est nomme
ministre d'Etat, et membre de notre Conseil prive.
"Dimanche, 29 Decembre, 1822. "
"On Tuesday, January 1, 1823," writes Chateaubriand, _Congress_, 1838,
i. 258, "we crossed the bridges, and went to sleep in that minister's
bed, which was not made for us,--a bed in which one sleeps but little,
and in which one remains only for a short time. "]
[345] {576}[From Pope's line on Lord Peterborough, _Imitations of
Horace_, Sat. i. 132. ]
[346] [Marie Louise, daughter of Francis I. of Austria, was born
December 12, 1791, and died December 18, 1849. She was married to
Napoleon, April 2, 1810, and gave birth to a son, March 29, 1811. In
accordance with the Treaty of Paris, she left France April 26, 1814,
renounced the title of Empress, and was created Duchess of Parma,
Placentia, and Guastalla. After Napoleon's death (May 5, 1821). "Proud
Austria's mournful flower" did not long remain a widow, but speedily and
secretly married her chamberlain and gentleman of honour, Count Adam de
Neipperg (_ce polisson_ Neipperg, as Napoleon called him), to whom she
had long been attached. It was supposed that she attended the Congress
of Verona in the interest of her son, the ex-King of Rome, to whom
Napoleon had bequeathed money and heirlooms. She was a solemn stately
personage, _tant soit peu declassee_, and the other potentates whispered
and joked at her expense. Chateaubriand says that when the Duke of
Wellington was bored with the meetings of the Congress, he would while
away the time in the company of the Orsini, who scribbled on the margin
of intercepted French despatches, "Pas pour Mariee. " Not for Madame de
Neipperg. ]
[347] [Napoleon Francois Charles Joseph, Duke of Reichstadt, died at the
palace of Schonbrunn, July 22, 1832, having just attained his
twenty-first year. ]
[348] [Count Adam Albrecht de Neipperg had lost an eye from a wound in
battle. ]
[349] {577}[_La Quotidienne_ of December 4, 1822, has a satirical
reference to a passage in the _Courrier_, which attached a diplomatic
importance to the "galanterie respectueuse que le duc de Wellington
aurait faite a cette jeune Princesse. " We read, too, of another
victorious foe, the King of Prussia, giving "la main a l'archduchesse
Marie-Louise jusqu'a son carrosse" (_Le Constitutionnel_, November 19,
1822). "All the world wondered" what Andromache did, and how she would
fare--_dans ce galere_. It is difficult to explain the allusion to
Pyrrhus. Andromache was the unwilling bride of Pyrrhus or Neoptolemus,
whose father had slain her husband, Hector; Marie Louise the willing
bride of Neipperg, who had certainly fought at Leipsic, but who could
not be said to have given the final blow to Napoleon at Waterloo.
Pyrrhus must stand for the victorious foe, and the right arm on which
the too-forgiving Andromache leant, must have been offered by "the
respectful gallantry" of the Duke of Wellington. ]
[ew]
_She comes the Andromache of Europe's Queens,_
_And led by Pyrrhus arm on which she leans_. --[MS. M. ]
[350] {578}[Sir William Curtis (1752-1805), maker of sea-biscuits at
Wapping, was M. P. for the City of London 1790-1818, Lord Mayor 1795-6.
George IV. affected his society, visited him at Ramsgate, and sailed
with him in his gorgeously appointed yacht. When the king visited
Scotland in August, 1822, Curtis followed in his train. On first landing
at Leith, "Sir William Curtis, who had _celtified_ himself on the
occasion, marched joyously in his scanty longitude of kilt. " At the
Levee, August 17, "Sir William Curtis again appeared in the Royal
tartan, but he had forsaken the philabeg and addicted himself to the
trews" (_Morning Chronicle_, August 19, 20, 1822). "The Fat Knight" was
seventy years of age, and there was much joking at his expense. See, for
instance, some lines in "Hudibrastic measure," _Gentleman's Magazine_,
vol. 92, Part II. p. 606--
"And who is he, that sleek and smart one
Pot-bellied pyramid of Tartan?
So mountainous in pinguitude,
_Ponderibus librata_ SUIS,
He stands like _pig_ of lead, so true is,
That his abdomen throws alone
A _Body-guard_ around the Throne! "]
[351] [Lines 771, 772 are not in the MS. ]
THE ISLAND
OR,
CHRISTIAN AND HIS COMRADES.
INTRODUCTION TO _THE ISLAND_
The first canto of _The Island_ was finished January 10, 1823. We know
that Byron was still at work on "the poeshie," January 25 (_Letters_,
1901, vi. 164), and may reasonably conjecture that a somewhat illegible
date affixed to the fourth canto, stands for February 14, 1823. The MS.
had been received in London before April 9 (_ibid_. , p. 192); and on
June 26, 1823, _The Island; or, The Adventures of Christian and his
Comrades_, was published by John Hunt.
Byron's "Advertisement," or note, prefixed to _The Island_ contains all
that need be said with regard to the "sources" of the poem.
Two separate works were consulted: (1) _A Narrative of the Mutiny on
board His Majesty's Ship Bounty, and the subsequent Voyage of . . . the
Ship's Boat from Tafoa, one of the Friendly Islands, to Timor, a Dutch
Settlement in the East Indies_, written by Lieutenant William Bligh,
1790; and (2) _An Account of the Natives of the Tonga Islands_, Compiled
and Arranged from the Extensive Communications of Mr. William Mariner,
by John Martin, M. D. , 1817.
According to George Clinton (_Life and Writings of Lord Byron_, 1824, p.
656), Byron was profoundly impressed by Mariner's report of the scenery
and folklore of the _Friendly Islands_, was "never tired of talking of
it to his friends," and, in order to turn this poetic material to
account, finally bethought him that Bligh's _Narrative_ of the mutiny of
the _Bounty_ would serve as a framework or structure "for an embroidery
of rare device"--the figures and foliage of a tropical pattern. That, at
least, is the substance of Clinton's analysis of the "sources" of _The
Island_, and whether he spoke, or only feigned to speak, with authority,
his criticism is sound and to the point. The story of the mutiny of the
_Bounty_, which is faithfully related in the first canto, is not, as the
second title implies, a prelude to the "Adventures of Christian and his
Comrades," but to a description of "The Island," an Ogygia of the South
Seas.
It must be borne in mind that Byron's acquaintance with the details of
the mutiny of the _Bounty_ was derived exclusively from Bligh's
_Narrative_; that he does not seem to have studied the minutes of the
court-martial on Peter Heywood and the other prisoners (September,
1792), or to have possessed the information that in 1809, and, again, in
1815, the Admiralty received authentic information with regard to the
final settlement of Christian and his comrades on Pitcairn Island.
Articles, however, had appeared in the _Quarterly Review_, February,
1810, vol. iii. pp. 23, 24, and July, 1815, vol. xiii. pp. 376-378,
which contained an extract from the log-book of Captain Mayhew Folger,
of the American ship _Topaz_, dated September 29, 1808, and letters from
Folger (March 1, 1813), and Sir Thomas Staines, October 18, 1814, which
solved the mystery. Moreover, the article of February, 1810, is quoted
in the notes (pp. 313-318) affixed to Miss Mitford's _Christina, the
Maid of the South Seas_, 1811, a poem founded on Bligh's _Narrative_, of
which neither Byron or his reviewers seem to have heard.
But whatever may have been his opportunities of ascertaining the facts
of the case, it is certain (see his note to Canto IV. section vi. line
122) that he did not know what became of Christian, and that whereas in
the first canto he follows the text of Bligh's _Narrative_, in the three
last cantos he draws upon his imagination, turning Tahiti into Toobonai
(Tubuai), and transporting Toobonai from one archipelago to
another--from the Society to the Friendly Islands.
Another and still more surprising feature of _The Island_ is that Byron
accepts, without qualification or reserve, the guilt of the mutineers
and the innocence and worth of Lieutenant Bligh. It is true that by
inheritance he was imbued with the traditions of the service, and from
personal experience understood the necessity of discipline on board
ship; but it may be taken for granted that if he had known that the
sympathy, if not the esteem, of the public had been transferred from
Bligh to Christian, that in the opinion of grave and competent writers,
the guilt of mutiny on the high seas had been almost condoned by the
violence and brutality of the commanding officer, he would have sided
with the oppressed rather than the oppressor. As it is, he takes Bligh
at his own valuation, and carefully abstains from "eulogizing mutiny. "
(Letter to L. Hunt, January 25, 1823. )
The story of the "mutiny of the _Bounty_" happened in this wise. In 1787
it occurred to certain West India planters and merchants, resident in
London, that it would benefit the natives, and perhaps themselves, if
the bread-fruit tree, which flourished in Tahiti (the Otaheite of
Captain Cook and Sir Joseph Banks, see _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 7,
note 2) and other islands of the South Seas, could be acclimatized in
the West Indies. A petition was addressed to the king, with the result
that a vessel, with a burden of 215 tons, which Banks christened the
_Bounty_, sailed from Spithead December 23, 1787. Lieutenant William
Bligh, who had sailed with Cook in the _Resolution_, acted as commanding
officer, and under him were five midshipmen, a master, two master's
mates, etc. --forty-four persons all told. The _Bounty_ arrived at Tahiti
October 26, 1788, and there for six delightful months the ship's company
tarried, "fleeting the time carelessly, as in the elder world. " But
"Scripture saith an ending to all fine things must be," and on April 4,
1789, the _Bounty_, with a cargo of over a thousand bread-fruit trees,
planted in pots, tubs, and boxes (see for plate of the pots, etc. , _A
Voyage, etc. _, 1792, p. 1), sailed away westward for the Cape of Good
Hope, and the West Indies. All went well at first, but "just before
sun-rising" on Tuesday, April 28, 1789, "the north-westernmost of the
Friendly Islands, called Tofoa, bearing north-east," Fletcher Christian,
who was mate of the watch, assisted by Charles Churchill,
master-at-arms, Alexander Smith (the John Adams of Pitcairn Island), and
Thomas Burkitt, able seamen, seized the captain, tied his hands behind
his back, hauled him out of his berth, and forced him on deck. The
boatswain, William Cole, was ordered to hoist out the ship's launch,
which measured twenty-three feet from stem to stern, and into this open
boat Bligh, together with eighteen of the crew, who were or were
supposed to be on his side, were thrust, on pain of instant death. When
they were in the boat they were "veered round with a rope, and finally
cast adrift. " Bligh and his eighteen innocent companions sailed
westward, and, after a voyage of "twelve hundred leagues," during which
they were preserved from death and destruction by the wise ordering and
patient heroism of the commander, safely anchored in Koepang Bay, on the
north-west coast of the Isle of Timor, June 14, 1789. (See Bligh's
_Narrative, etc. _, 1790, pp. 11-88; and _The Island_, Canto I. section
ix. lines 169-201. )
The _Bounty_, with the remainder of the crew, twenty-five in number,
"the most able of the ship's company," sailed eastward, first to
Toobooai, or Tubuai, an island to the south of the Society Islands,
thence to Tahiti (June 6), back to Tubuai (June 26), and yet again, to
Tahiti (September 20), where sixteen of the mutineers, including the
midshipman George Stewart (the "Torquil" of _The Island_), were put on
shore. Finally, September 21, 1789, Fletcher Christian, with the
_Bounty_ and eight of her crew, six Tahitian men, and twelve women,
sailed away still further east to unknown shores, and, so it was
believed, disappeared for good and all. Long afterwards it was known
that they had landed on Pitcairn Island, broken up the _Bounty_, and
founded a permanent settlement.
When Bligh returned to England (March 14, 1790), and acquainted the
Government "with the atrocious act of piracy and mutiny" which had been
committed on the high seas, the _Pandora_ frigate, with Captain Edwards,
was despatched to apprehend the mutineers, and bring them back to
England for trial and punishment. The _Pandora_ reached Tahiti March 23,
1791, set sail, with fourteen prisoners, May 8, and was wrecked on the
"Great Barrier Reef" north-east of Queensland, August 29, 1791. Four of
the prisoners, including George Stewart, who had been manacled, and were
confined in "Pandora's box," perished in the wreck, and the remaining
ten were brought back to England, and tried by court-martial. (See _The
Eventful History of the Mutiny, etc. _ (by Sir John Barrow), 1831, pp.
205-244. )
The story, which runs through the second, third, and fourth cantos, may
possibly owe some of its details to a vague recollection of incidents
which happened, or were supposed to happen, at Tahiti, in the interval
between the final departure of the _Bounty_, September 21, 1789, and the
arrival of the _Pandora_, March 23, 1791; but, as a whole, it is a work
of fiction.
With the exception of the fifteenth and sixteenth cantos of _Don Juan_,
_The Island_ was the last poem of any importance which Byron lived to
write, and the question naturally suggests itself--Is the new song as
good as the old? Byron answers the question himself. He tells Leigh Hunt
(January 25, 1823) that he hopes the "poem will be a little above the
ordinary run of periodical poesy," and that, though portions of the
Toobonai (_sic_) islanders are "pamby," he intends "to scatter some
_un_common places here and there nevertheless. " On the whole, in point
of conception and execution, _The Island_ is weaker and less coherent
than the _Corsair_; but it contains lines and passages (_e. g. _ Canto I.
lines 107-124, 133-140; Canto II. lines 272-297; Canto IV. lines 94-188)
which display a finer feeling and a more "exalted wit" than the "purple
patches" of _The Turkish Tales_.
The poetic faculty is somewhat exhausted, but the poetic vision has been
purged and heightened by suffering and self-knowledge.
_The Island_ was reviewed in the _Monthly Review_, July, 1823, E. S. ,
vol. 101, pp. 316-319; the _New Monthly Magazine_, N. S. , 1823, vol. 8,
pp. 136-141; the _Atlantic Magazine_, April, 1826, vol. 2, pp. 333-337;
in the _Literary Chronicle_, June 21, 1823; and the _Literary Gazette_,
June 21, 1823.
ADVERTISEMENT.
The foundation of the following story will be found partly in Lieutenant
Bligh's "Narrative of the Mutiny and Seizure of the Bounty, in the South
Seas (in 1789);" and partly in "Mariner's Account of the Tonga Islands. "
GENOA, 1823.
THE ISLAND
CANTO THE FIRST.
I.
The morning watch was come; the vessel lay
Her course, and gently made her liquid way;[ex]
The cloven billow flashed from off her prow
In furrows formed by that majestic plough;
The waters with their world were all before;
Behind, the South Sea's many an islet shore.
The quiet night, now dappling, 'gan to wane,
Dividing darkness from the dawning main;
The dolphins, not unconscious of the day,
Swam high, as eager of the coming ray;
The stars from broader beams began to creep,
And lift their shining eyelids from the deep;[ey]
The sail resumed its lately shadowed white,
And the wind fluttered with a freshening flight;
The purpling Ocean owns the coming Sun,
But ere he break--a deed is to be done.
II.
The gallant Chief[352] within his cabin slept,
Secure in those by whom the watch was kept:
His dreams were of Old England's welcome shore,
Of toils rewarded, and of dangers o'er; 20
His name was added to the glorious roll
Of those who search the storm-surrounded Pole.
The worst was over, and the rest seemed sure,[353]
And why should not his slumber be secure?
Alas! his deck was trod by unwilling feet,
And wilder hands would hold the vessel's sheet;
Young hearts, which languished for some sunny isle,
Where summer years and summer women smile;
Men without country, who, too long estranged,
Had found no native home, or found it changed, 30
And, half uncivilised, preferred the cave
Of some soft savage to the uncertain wave--
The gushing fruits that nature gave unfilled;
The wood without a path--but where they willed;
The field o'er which promiscuous Plenty poured
Her horn; the equal land without a lord;
The wish--which ages have not yet subdued
In man--to have no master save his mood;[354]
The earth, whose mine was on its face, unsold,
The glowing sun and produce all its gold; 40
The Freedom which can call each grot a home;
The general garden, where all steps may roam,
Where Nature owns a nation as her child,
Exulting in the enjoyment of the wild;[ez]
Their shells, their fruits, the only wealth they know,
Their unexploring navy, the canoe;[fa]
Their sport, the dashing breakers and the chase;
Their strangest sight, an European face:--
Such was the country which these strangers yearned
To see again--a sight they dearly earned. 50
III.
Awake, bold Bligh! the foe is at the gate!
Awake! awake! ----Alas! it is too late!
Fiercely beside thy cot the mutineer
Stands, and proclaims the reign of rage and fear.
Thy limbs are bound, the bayonet at thy breast;
The hands, which trembled at thy voice, arrest;
Dragged o'er the deck, no more at thy command
The obedient helm shall veer, the sail expand;
That savage Spirit, which would lull by wrath
Its desperate escape from Duty's path, 60
Glares round thee, in the scarce believing eyes
Of those who fear the Chief they sacrifice:
For ne'er can Man his conscience all assuage,
Unless he drain the wine of Passion--Rage.
IV.
In vain, not silenced by the eye of Death,
Thou call'st the loyal with thy menaced breath:--
They come not; they are few, and, overawed,
Must acquiesce, while sterner hearts applaud.
In vain thou dost demand the cause: a curse
Is all the answer, with the threat of worse. 70
Full in thine eyes is waved the glittering blade,
Close to thy throat the pointed bayonet laid.
The levelled muskets circle round thy breast
In hands as steeled to do the deadly rest.
Thou dar'st them to their worst, exclaiming--"Fire! "
But they who pitied not could yet admire;
Some lurking remnant of their former awe
Restrained them longer than their broken law;
They would not dip their souls at once in blood,
But left thee to the mercies of the flood. [355] 80
V.
"Hoist out the boat! " was now the leader's cry;
And who dare answer "No! " to Mutiny,
In the first dawning of the drunken hour,
The Saturnalia of unhoped-for power?
The boat is lowered with all the haste of hate,
With its slight plank between thee and thy fate;
Her only cargo such a scant supply
As promises the death their hands deny;
And just enough of water and of bread
To keep, some days, the dying from the dead: 90
Some cordage, canvass, sails, and lines, and twine,
But treasures all to hermits of the brine,
Were added after, to the earnest prayer
Of those who saw no hope, save sea and air;
And last, that trembling vassal of the Pole--
The feeling compass--Navigation's soul. [356]
VI.
And now the self-elected Chief finds time
To stun the first sensation of his crime,
And raise it in his followers--"Ho! the bowl! "[357]
Lest passion should return to reason's shoal. [fb] 100
"Brandy for heroes! "[358] Burke could once exclaim--
No doubt a liquid path to Epic fame;
And such the new-born heroes found it here,
And drained the draught with an applauding cheer.
"Huzza! for Otaheite! "[359] was the cry.
How strange such shouts from sons of Mutiny!
The gentle island, and the genial soil,
The friendly hearts, the feasts without a toil,
The courteous manners but from nature caught,
The wealth unhoarded, and the love unbought; 110
Could these have charms for rudest sea-boys, driven
Before the mast by every wind of heaven?
And now, even now prepared with others' woes
To earn mild Virtue's vain desire, repose?
Alas! such is our nature! all but aim
At the same end by pathways not the same;
Our means--our birth--our nation, and our name,
Our fortune--temper--even our outward frame,
Are far more potent o'er our yielding clay
Than aught we know beyond our little day. 120
Yet still there whispers the small voice within,
Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din:
Whatever creed be taught, or land be trod,
Man's conscience is the Oracle of God. [360]
VII.
The launch is crowded with the faithful few
Who wait their Chief, a melancholy crew:
But some remained reluctant on the deck
Of that proud vessel--now a moral wreck--
And viewed their Captain's fate with piteous eyes;
While others scoffed his augured miseries, 130
Sneered at the prospect of his pigmy sail,
And the slight bark so laden and so frail.
The tender nautilus, who steers his prow,
The sea-born sailor of his shell canoe,
The ocean Mab, the fairy of the sea,
Seems far less fragile, and, alas! more free.
He, when the lightning-winged Tornados sweep
The surge, is safe--his port is in the deep--
And triumphs o'er the armadas of Mankind,
Which shake the World, yet crumble in the wind. 140
VIII.
When all was now prepared, the vessel clear
Which hailed her master in the mutineer,
A seaman, less obdurate than his mates,
Showed the vain pity which but irritates;
Watched his late Chieftain with exploring eye,
And told, in signs, repentant sympathy;
Held the moist shaddock to his parched mouth,
Which felt Exhaustion's deep and bitter drouth.
But soon observed, this guardian was withdrawn,
Nor further Mercy clouds Rebellion's dawn. [361] 150
Then forward stepped the bold and froward boy
His Chief had cherished only to destroy,
And, pointing to the helpless prow beneath,
Exclaimed, "Depart at once! delay is death! "
Yet then, even then, his feelings ceased not all:
In that last moment could a word recall
Remorse for the black deed as yet half done,
And what he hid from many showed to one:
When Bligh in stern reproach demanded where
Was now his grateful sense of former care? 160
Where all his hopes to see his name aspire,
And blazon Britain's thousand glories higher?
His feverish lips thus broke their gloomy spell,
"Tis that! 'tis that! I am in hell! in hell! "[362]
No more he said; but urging to the bark
His Chief, commits him to his fragile ark;
These the sole accents from his tongue that fell,
But volumes lurked below his fierce farewell.
IX.
The arctic[363] Sun rose broad above the wave;
The breeze now sank, now whispered from his cave; 170
As on the AEolian harp, his fitful wings
Now swelled, now fluttered o'er his Ocean strings. [fc]
With slow, despairing oar, the abandoned skiff
Ploughs its drear progress to the scarce seen cliff,
Which lifts its peak a cloud above the main:
_That_ boat and ship shall never meet again!
But 'tis not mine to tell their tale of grief,
Their constant peril, and their scant relief;
Their days of danger, and their nights of pain;
Their manly courage even when deemed in vain; 180
The sapping famine, rendering scarce a son
Known to his mother in the skeleton;[364]
The ills that lessened still their little store,
And starved even Hunger till he wrung no more;
The varying frowns and favours of the deep,
That now almost ingulfs, then leaves to creep
With crazy oar and shattered strength along
The tide that yields reluctant to the strong;
The incessant fever of that arid thirst[365]
Which welcomes, as a well, the clouds that burst 190
Above their naked bones, and feels delight
In the cold drenching of the stormy night,
And from the outspread canvass gladly wrings
A drop to moisten Life's all-gasping springs;
The savage foe escaped, to seek again
More hospitable shelter from the main;
The ghastly Spectres which were doomed at last
To tell as true a tale of dangers past,
As ever the dark annals of the deep
Disclosed for man to dread or woman weep. 200
X.
We leave them to their fate, but not unknown
Nor unredressed. Revenge may have her own:[fd]
Roused Discipline aloud proclaims their cause,
And injured Navies urge their broken laws.
Pursue we on his track the mutineer,
Whom distant vengeance had not taught to fear.
Wide o'er the wave--away! away! away!
Once more his eyes shall hail the welcome bay;
Once more the happy shores without a law
Receive the outlaws whom they lately saw; 210
Nature, and Nature's goddess--Woman--woos
To lands where, save their conscience, none accuse;
Where all partake the earth without dispute,[fe]
And bread itself is gathered as a fruit;[366]
Where none contest the fields, the woods, the streams:--
The goldless Age, where Gold disturbs no dreams,
Inhabits or inhabited the shore,
Till Europe taught them better than before;
Bestowed her customs, and amended theirs,
But left her vices also to their heirs. [367] 220
Away with this! behold them as they were,
Do good with Nature, or with Nature err.
"Huzza! for Otaheite! " was the cry,
As stately swept the gallant vessel by.
The breeze springs up; the lately flapping sail
Extends its arch before the growing gale;
In swifter ripples stream aside the seas,
Which her bold bow flings off with dashing ease.
Thus Argo ploughed the Euxine's virgin foam,[ff]
But those she wafted still looked back to home; 230
These spurn their country with their rebel bark,
And fly her as the raven fled the Ark;
And yet they seek to nestle with the dove,
And tame their fiery spirits down to Love.
End of Canto 1^st^, J^n 14.
CANTO THE SECOND.
I.
How pleasant were the songs of Toobonai,[368]
When Summer's Sun went down the coral bay!
Come, let us to the islet's softest shade,
And hear the warbling birds! the damsels said:
The wood-dove from the forest depth shall coo,
Like voices of the Gods from Bolotoo;[369]
We'll cull the flowers that grow above the dead,
For these most bloom where rests the warrior's head;
And we will sit in Twilight's face, and see
The sweet Moon glancing through the Tooa[370] tree, 10
The lofty accents of whose sighing bough
Shall sadly please us as we lean below;
Or climb the steep, and view the surf in vain
Wrestle with rocky giants o'er the main,
Which spurn in columns back the baffled spray.
How beautiful are these! how happy they,
Who, from the toil and tumult of their lives,
Steal to look down where nought but Ocean strives!
Even He too loves at times the blue lagoon,
And smooths his ruffled mane beneath the Moon. 20
II.
Yes--from the sepulchre we'll gather flowers,
Then feast like spirits in their promised bowers,
Then plunge and revel in the rolling surf,
Then lay our limbs along the tender turf,
And, wet and shining from the sportive toil,
Anoint our bodies with the fragrant oil,
And plait our garlands gathered from the grave,
And wear the wreaths that sprung from out the brave.
But lo! night comes, the Mooa[371] woos us back,
The sound of mats[372] are heard along our track; 30
Anon the torchlight dance shall fling its sheen
In flashing mazes o'er the Marly's[373] green;
And we too will be there; we too recall
The memory bright with many a festival,
Ere Fiji blew the shell of war, when foes
For the first time were wafted in canoes. [fg]
Alas! for them the flower of manhood bleeds;
Alas! for them our fields are rank with weeds:
Forgotten is the rapture, or unknown,[fh]
Of wandering with the Moon and Love alone. 40
But be it so:--_they_ taught us how to wield
The club, and rain our arrows o'er the field:
Now let them reap the harvest of their art!
But feast to-night! to-morrow we depart.
Strike up the dance! the Cava bowl[374] fill high!
Drain every drop! --to-morrow we may die.
In summer garments be our limbs arrayed;
Around our waists the Tappa's white displayed;
Thick wreaths shall form our coronal,[375] like Spring's,
And round our necks shall glance the Hooni strings; 50
So shall their brighter hues contrast the glow
Of the dusk bosoms that beat high below.
III.
But now the dance is o'er--yet stay awhile;
Ah, pause! nor yet put out the social smile.
To-morrow for the Mooa we depart,
But not to-night--to-night is for the heart.
Again bestow the wreaths we gently woo,
Ye young Enchantresses of gay Licoo! [376]
How lovely are your forms! how every sense
Bows to your beauties, softened, but intense,[fi] 60
Like to the flowers on Mataloco's steep,
Which fling their fragrance far athwart the deep! --
We too will see Licoo; but--oh! my heart! --
What do I say? --to-morrow we depart!
IV.
Thus rose a song--the harmony of times
Before the winds blew Europe o'er these climes.
True, they had vices--such are Nature's growth--
But only the barbarian's--we have both;
The sordor of civilisation, mixed
With all the savage which Man's fall hath fixed. 70
Who hath not seen Dissimulation's reign,
The prayers of Abel linked to deeds of Cain?
Who such would see may from his lattice view
The Old World more degraded than the New,--
Now _new_ no more, save where Columbia rears
Twin giants, born by Freedom to her spheres,
Where Chimborazo, over air,--earth,--wave,--
Glares with his Titan eye, and sees no slave. [fj][377]
V.
Such was this ditty of Tradition's days,
Which to the dead a lingering fame conveys 80
In song, where Fame as yet hath left no sign
Beyond the sound whose charm is half divine;
Which leaves no record to the sceptic eye,
But yields young History all to Harmony;
A boy Achilles, with the Centaur's lyre
In hand, to teach him to surpass his sire.
For one long-cherished ballad's[378] simple stave,
Rung from the rock, or mingled with the wave,
Or from the bubbling streamlet's grassy side,
Or gathering mountain echoes as they glide, 90
Hath greater power o'er each true heart and ear,
Than all the columns Conquest's minions rear;[fk]
Invites, when Hieroglyphics[379] are a theme
For sages' labours, or the student's dream;
Attracts, when History's volumes are a toil,--
The first, the freshest bud of Feeling's soil.
Such was this rude rhyme--rhyme is of the rude--
But such inspired the Norseman's solitude,
Who came and conquered; such, wherever rise
Lands which no foes destroy or civilise, 100
Exist: and what can our accomplished art
Of verse do more than reach the awakened heart? [380]
VI.
And sweetly now those untaught melodies
Broke the luxurious silence of the skies,
The sweet siesta of a summer day,
The tropic afternoon of Toobonai,
When every flower was bloom, and air was balm,
And the first breath began to stir the palm,
The first yet voiceless wind to urge the wave
All gently to refresh the thirsty cave, 110
Where sat the Songstress with the stranger boy,
Who taught her Passion's desolating joy,
Too powerful over every heart, but most
O'er those who know not how it may be lost;
O'er those who, burning in the new-born fire,
Like martyrs revel in their funeral pyre,
With such devotion to their ecstacy,
That Life knows no such rapture as to die:
And die they do; for earthly life has nought
Matched with that burst of Nature, even in thought; 120
And all our dreams of better life above
But close in one eternal gush of Love.
VII.
There sat the gentle savage of the wild,
In growth a woman, though in years a child,
As childhood dates within our colder clime,
Where nought is ripened rapidly save crime;
The infant of an infant world, as pure
From Nature--lovely, warm, and premature;
Dusky like night, but night with all her stars;
Or cavern sparkling with its native spars; 130
With eyes that were a language and a spell,
A form like Aphrodite's in her shell,
With all her loves around her on the deep,
Voluptuous as the first approach of sleep;
Yet full of life--for through her tropic cheek
The blush would make its way, and all but speak;
The sun-born blood suffused her neck, and threw
O'er her clear nut-brown skin a lucid hue,
Like coral reddening through the darkened wave,
Which draws the diver to the crimson cave. 140
Such was this daughter of the southern seas,
Herself a billow in her energies,[fl]
To bear the bark of others' happiness,
Nor feel a sorrow till their joy grew less:
Her wild and warm yet faithful bosom knew
No joy like what it gave; her hopes ne'er drew
Aught from Experience, that chill touchstone, whose
Sad proof reduces all things from their hues:
She feared no ill, because she knew it not,
Or what she knew was soon--too soon--forgot: 150
Her smiles and tears had passed, as light winds pass
O'er lakes to ruffle, not destroy, their glass,
Whose depths unsearched, and fountains from the hill,
Restore their surface, in itself so still,
Until the Earthquake tear the Naiad's cave,
Root up the spring, and trample on the wave,
And crush the living waters to a mass,
The amphibious desert of the dank morass!
And must their fate be hers? The eternal change
But grasps Humanity with quicker range; 160
And they who fall but fall as worlds will fall,
To rise, if just, a Spirit o'er them all.
VIII.
And who is he? the blue-eyed northern child[381]
Of isles more known to man, but scarce less wild;
The fair-haired offspring of the Hebrides,
Where roars the Pentland with its whirling seas;
Rocked in his cradle by the roaring wind,
The tempest-born in body and in mind,
His young eyes opening on the ocean-foam,
Had from that moment deemed the deep his home, 170
The giant comrade of his pensive moods,
The sharer of his craggy solitudes,
The only Mentor of his youth, where'er
His bark was borne; the sport of wave and air;
A careless thing, who placed his choice in chance,
Nursed by the legends of his land's romance;
Eager to hope, but not less firm to bear,
Acquainted with all feelings save despair.
Placed in the Arab's clime he would have been
As bold a rover as the sands have seen, 180
And braved their thirst with as enduring lip
As Ishmael, wafted on his Desert-Ship;[382]
Fixed upon Chili's shore, a proud cacique:
On Hellas' mountains, a rebellious Greek;[383]
Born in a tent, perhaps a Tamerlane;
Bred to a throne, perhaps unfit to reign.
For the same soul that rends its path to sway,
If reared to such, can find no further prey
Beyond itself, and must retrace its way,[384]
Plunging for pleasure into pain: the same 190
Spirit which made a Nero, Rome's worst shame,
A humbler state and discipline of heart,
Had formed his glorious namesake's counterpart;[385]
But grant his vices, grant them all his own,
How small their theatre without a throne!
IX.
inclusion of a stanza or two on Castlereagh, which had been written
"before his decease," and, again, alludes to his suicide. (For an
estimate of his career and character, see _Letters_, 1900, iv. 108, 109,
note 1; and for a full report of the inquest, _The Annual Biography_,
1823, pp. 56-62. )]
[ep]
_Whose penknife saved some nations t'other day_.
_Who shaved his throat by chance the other day_. --[MS. erased. ]
[331] ["The Pilot that weathered the Storm" was written by Canning, to
be recited at a dinner given on Pitt's birthday, May 28, 1802. ]
[eq] {569} _With reason--whate'er it may with rhyme_. --[MS. erased. ]
[332] [George Canning (1770-1827) succeeded Lord Londonderry as Foreign
Secretary, September 8, 1822. He was not a _persona grata_ to George
IV. , who had been offended by Canning's neutral attitude, as a minister,
on the question of the Queen's message (June 7, 1820), and by his avowal
"of an unaltered regard and affection" for that "illustrious personage"
herself. There was, too, the prospect of Catholic Emancipation. In 1821
he had spoken in favour of Plunket's bills, and, the next year (April
30, 1822), he had brought in a bill to remove the disabilities of Roman
Catholic peers from sitting in the House of Lords. If Canning persisted
in his advocacy of Catholic claims, the king's conscience might turn
restive, and urge him to effectual resistance. Hence the warning in
lines 563-567. ]
[333] {570} [Demeter gave Triptolemus a chariot drawn by serpents, and
bade him scatter wheat throughout the world. (See Ovid, _Met. _, lib. v.
lines 642-661. )]
[er] _The mighty monosyllable high_ Rent! --[MS. ]
[es] ----_upon the audit day_. --[MS. M. ]
[334] ["Lord Londonderry proposed (April 29, 1822) that whenever wheat
should be under 60 shillings a quarter, Government should be authorized
to issue ? 1,000,000 in Exchequer bills to landed proprietors on the
security of their crops; that importation of foreign corn should be
permitted whenever the price of wheat should be at or above 70 shillings
a quarter . . . that a sliding-scale should be fixed, that for wheat being
under 80s. a quarter at 12 shillings; above 80s. and below 85s. , at 5
shillings; and above 85s. , only one shilling. "--Allison's _History of
Europe_, 1815-1852, _and_ 1854, ii. 506. The first clause was thrown
out, but the rest of the bill passed May 13, 1822. ]
[et] {571} _For fear that riches_----. --[MS. M. ]
[eu] _Will sell the harvest at a market price_. --[MS. M. ]
[ev] _Are gone--their fields untilled_. --[MS. M. ]
[335] {572}[Peel's bill for the resumption of cash payments (Act 59 Geo.
III. cap. 49) was passed June 14, 1819. The "landed interest" attributed
the fall of prices and the consequent fall of rent to this measure, and
hinted more or less plainly that the fund-holders should share the loss.
They had lent their money when the currency was inflated, and should not
now be paid off in gold.
"But _you_," exclaims Cobbett [Letter to Mr. Western (_Weekly Register_,
November 23, 1822)], "what can induce you to stickle for the Pitt system
[i. e. paper-money]? I will tell you what it is: you loved the _high
prices_, and the domination that they gave you. . . . Besides this, you
think that the _boroughs can be preserved_ by a return to paper-money,
and along with them the hare-and-pheasant law and justice. You loved the
glorious times of paper-money, and you want them back again. You think
that they could go on for ever. . . . The bill of 1819 was really a great
relaxation of the Pitt system, and when you are crying out _spoliation_
and _confiscation_, when you are bawling out so lustily about the robbery
committed on you by the fund-holders and the placemen, and are praising
the infernal Pitt system at the same time, . . . you say they are
receiving, the fund-vagabonds in particular, _more_ than they ought. " It
is evident that Byron's verse is a reverberation of Cobbett's prose. ]
[336] [Petitions were presented by the inhabitants of St. Andrew,
Holborn; St. Botolf, Bishopsgate; and St. Gregory by St. Paul, to the
Court of Common Council, against a tithe-charge of 2s, 9d. in the pound
on their annual rents. --_Morning Chronicle_, November 1, 1822. ]
[337] Lines 614-657 are not in the MS.
[338] {573}[The Symplegades, or "justling rocks," Ovid's _instabiles
Cyaneae_, were supposed to crush the ships which sailed between them. ]
[339] [Alcina, the personification of carnal pleasure in the _Orlando
Furioso_, is the counterpart of Homer's _Circe_. "She enjoyed her lovers
for a time, and then changed them into trees, stones, fountains, or
beasts, as her fancy dictated. " (See Ariosto, _Orlando Furioso_, vi. 35,
_seq_. )]
[340] [There were five brothers Rothschild: Anselm, of Frankfort,
1773-1855; Salomon, of Vienna, 1774-1855; Nathan Mayer, of London,
1777-1836; Charles, of Naples, 1788-1855; and James, of Paris,
1792-1868. In 1821 Austria raised 37-1/2 million guldens through the
firm, and, as an acknowledgment of their services, the Emperor raised
the brothers to the rank of baron, and appointed Baron Nathan Mayer
Consul-General in London, and Baron James to the same post in Paris. In
1822 both Russia (see line 684) and England raised 3-1/2 millions sterling
through the Rothschilds. The "two Jews" (line 686, etc. ) are, probably,
the two Consuls-General. In 1822 their honours were new, and some
mocked. There is the story that Talleyrand once presented the Parisian
brother to Montmorenci as _M. le premier Juif_ to _M. le premier Baron
Chretien_; while another tale, parent or offspring of the preceding,
which appeared in _La Quotidienne_, December 21, 1822, testifies to the
fact, not recorded, that a Rothschild was at Verona during the Congress:
"M. de Rotschild, baron et banquier general des gouvernemens absolus,
s'est, dit-on, rendu an congres, il a ete presente a l'empereur
d'Autriche, et S. M. , en lui remettant une decoration, a daigne lui dire:
'Vous pouvez etre assure, Monsieur, que _la maison d'Autriche_ sera
toujours disposee a reconnaitre vos services et a vous accorder ce qui
pourra vous etre agreable,'--'Votre Majeste,' a repondu le baron
financier, 'pourra toujours egalement compter sur _la maison
Rotschild_. '"--See _The Rothschilds_, by John Reeves, 1886. ]
[341] {574}[In 1822 the Neapolitan Government raised 22,000,000 ducats
through the Rothschilds. ]
[342] {575} Monsieur Chateaubriand, who has not forgotten the author in
the minister, received a handsome compliment at Verona from a literary
sovereign: "Ah! Monsieur C. , are you related to that Chateaubriand
who--who--who has written _something? _" (ecrit _quelque chose! _) It is
said that the author of Atala repented him for a moment of his
legitimacy. [Francois Rene Vicomte de Chateaubriand (1768-1848)
published _Les Martyrs ou le Triomphe de la religion chretienne_ in
1809. ]
[343] [Count Capo d'Istria (b. 1776)--afterwards President of Greece.
The count was murdered, in September, 1831, by the brother and son of a
Mainote chief whom he had imprisoned (note to ed. 1832). Byron may have
believed that Capo d'Istria was still in the service of the Czar, but,
according to Allison, his advocacy of his compatriots the Greeks had led
to his withdrawal from the Russian Foreign Office, and prevented his
taking part in the Congress. It was, however, stated in the papers that
he had been summoned, and was on his way to Verona. ]
[344] [Jean Mathieu Felicite, Duc de Montmorenci (1766-1826), was, in
his youth, a Jacobin. He proposed, August 4, 1789, to abrogate feudal
rights, and June 15, 1790, to abolish the nobility. He was superseded as
plenipotentiary by Chateaubriand, and on his return to Paris created a
duke. Before the end of the year he was called upon to resign his
portfolio as Minister of Foreign Affairs. The king disliked him, and
there were personal disagreements between him and the Prime Minister, M.
de Villele.
The following "gazette" appeared in the _Moniteur_:--
"Ordonnance du Roi. Signe Louis. Art 1^er^ Le Vicomte de Chateaubriand,
pair de France, est nomme ministre secretaire d'etat au departement des
affaires etrangeres. Louis par la grace de Dieu Roi de France et de
Navarre.
"Art. 1^er^ Le Duc Mathieu de Montmorenci, pair de France, est nomme
ministre d'Etat, et membre de notre Conseil prive.
"Dimanche, 29 Decembre, 1822. "
"On Tuesday, January 1, 1823," writes Chateaubriand, _Congress_, 1838,
i. 258, "we crossed the bridges, and went to sleep in that minister's
bed, which was not made for us,--a bed in which one sleeps but little,
and in which one remains only for a short time. "]
[345] {576}[From Pope's line on Lord Peterborough, _Imitations of
Horace_, Sat. i. 132. ]
[346] [Marie Louise, daughter of Francis I. of Austria, was born
December 12, 1791, and died December 18, 1849. She was married to
Napoleon, April 2, 1810, and gave birth to a son, March 29, 1811. In
accordance with the Treaty of Paris, she left France April 26, 1814,
renounced the title of Empress, and was created Duchess of Parma,
Placentia, and Guastalla. After Napoleon's death (May 5, 1821). "Proud
Austria's mournful flower" did not long remain a widow, but speedily and
secretly married her chamberlain and gentleman of honour, Count Adam de
Neipperg (_ce polisson_ Neipperg, as Napoleon called him), to whom she
had long been attached. It was supposed that she attended the Congress
of Verona in the interest of her son, the ex-King of Rome, to whom
Napoleon had bequeathed money and heirlooms. She was a solemn stately
personage, _tant soit peu declassee_, and the other potentates whispered
and joked at her expense. Chateaubriand says that when the Duke of
Wellington was bored with the meetings of the Congress, he would while
away the time in the company of the Orsini, who scribbled on the margin
of intercepted French despatches, "Pas pour Mariee. " Not for Madame de
Neipperg. ]
[347] [Napoleon Francois Charles Joseph, Duke of Reichstadt, died at the
palace of Schonbrunn, July 22, 1832, having just attained his
twenty-first year. ]
[348] [Count Adam Albrecht de Neipperg had lost an eye from a wound in
battle. ]
[349] {577}[_La Quotidienne_ of December 4, 1822, has a satirical
reference to a passage in the _Courrier_, which attached a diplomatic
importance to the "galanterie respectueuse que le duc de Wellington
aurait faite a cette jeune Princesse. " We read, too, of another
victorious foe, the King of Prussia, giving "la main a l'archduchesse
Marie-Louise jusqu'a son carrosse" (_Le Constitutionnel_, November 19,
1822). "All the world wondered" what Andromache did, and how she would
fare--_dans ce galere_. It is difficult to explain the allusion to
Pyrrhus. Andromache was the unwilling bride of Pyrrhus or Neoptolemus,
whose father had slain her husband, Hector; Marie Louise the willing
bride of Neipperg, who had certainly fought at Leipsic, but who could
not be said to have given the final blow to Napoleon at Waterloo.
Pyrrhus must stand for the victorious foe, and the right arm on which
the too-forgiving Andromache leant, must have been offered by "the
respectful gallantry" of the Duke of Wellington. ]
[ew]
_She comes the Andromache of Europe's Queens,_
_And led by Pyrrhus arm on which she leans_. --[MS. M. ]
[350] {578}[Sir William Curtis (1752-1805), maker of sea-biscuits at
Wapping, was M. P. for the City of London 1790-1818, Lord Mayor 1795-6.
George IV. affected his society, visited him at Ramsgate, and sailed
with him in his gorgeously appointed yacht. When the king visited
Scotland in August, 1822, Curtis followed in his train. On first landing
at Leith, "Sir William Curtis, who had _celtified_ himself on the
occasion, marched joyously in his scanty longitude of kilt. " At the
Levee, August 17, "Sir William Curtis again appeared in the Royal
tartan, but he had forsaken the philabeg and addicted himself to the
trews" (_Morning Chronicle_, August 19, 20, 1822). "The Fat Knight" was
seventy years of age, and there was much joking at his expense. See, for
instance, some lines in "Hudibrastic measure," _Gentleman's Magazine_,
vol. 92, Part II. p. 606--
"And who is he, that sleek and smart one
Pot-bellied pyramid of Tartan?
So mountainous in pinguitude,
_Ponderibus librata_ SUIS,
He stands like _pig_ of lead, so true is,
That his abdomen throws alone
A _Body-guard_ around the Throne! "]
[351] [Lines 771, 772 are not in the MS. ]
THE ISLAND
OR,
CHRISTIAN AND HIS COMRADES.
INTRODUCTION TO _THE ISLAND_
The first canto of _The Island_ was finished January 10, 1823. We know
that Byron was still at work on "the poeshie," January 25 (_Letters_,
1901, vi. 164), and may reasonably conjecture that a somewhat illegible
date affixed to the fourth canto, stands for February 14, 1823. The MS.
had been received in London before April 9 (_ibid_. , p. 192); and on
June 26, 1823, _The Island; or, The Adventures of Christian and his
Comrades_, was published by John Hunt.
Byron's "Advertisement," or note, prefixed to _The Island_ contains all
that need be said with regard to the "sources" of the poem.
Two separate works were consulted: (1) _A Narrative of the Mutiny on
board His Majesty's Ship Bounty, and the subsequent Voyage of . . . the
Ship's Boat from Tafoa, one of the Friendly Islands, to Timor, a Dutch
Settlement in the East Indies_, written by Lieutenant William Bligh,
1790; and (2) _An Account of the Natives of the Tonga Islands_, Compiled
and Arranged from the Extensive Communications of Mr. William Mariner,
by John Martin, M. D. , 1817.
According to George Clinton (_Life and Writings of Lord Byron_, 1824, p.
656), Byron was profoundly impressed by Mariner's report of the scenery
and folklore of the _Friendly Islands_, was "never tired of talking of
it to his friends," and, in order to turn this poetic material to
account, finally bethought him that Bligh's _Narrative_ of the mutiny of
the _Bounty_ would serve as a framework or structure "for an embroidery
of rare device"--the figures and foliage of a tropical pattern. That, at
least, is the substance of Clinton's analysis of the "sources" of _The
Island_, and whether he spoke, or only feigned to speak, with authority,
his criticism is sound and to the point. The story of the mutiny of the
_Bounty_, which is faithfully related in the first canto, is not, as the
second title implies, a prelude to the "Adventures of Christian and his
Comrades," but to a description of "The Island," an Ogygia of the South
Seas.
It must be borne in mind that Byron's acquaintance with the details of
the mutiny of the _Bounty_ was derived exclusively from Bligh's
_Narrative_; that he does not seem to have studied the minutes of the
court-martial on Peter Heywood and the other prisoners (September,
1792), or to have possessed the information that in 1809, and, again, in
1815, the Admiralty received authentic information with regard to the
final settlement of Christian and his comrades on Pitcairn Island.
Articles, however, had appeared in the _Quarterly Review_, February,
1810, vol. iii. pp. 23, 24, and July, 1815, vol. xiii. pp. 376-378,
which contained an extract from the log-book of Captain Mayhew Folger,
of the American ship _Topaz_, dated September 29, 1808, and letters from
Folger (March 1, 1813), and Sir Thomas Staines, October 18, 1814, which
solved the mystery. Moreover, the article of February, 1810, is quoted
in the notes (pp. 313-318) affixed to Miss Mitford's _Christina, the
Maid of the South Seas_, 1811, a poem founded on Bligh's _Narrative_, of
which neither Byron or his reviewers seem to have heard.
But whatever may have been his opportunities of ascertaining the facts
of the case, it is certain (see his note to Canto IV. section vi. line
122) that he did not know what became of Christian, and that whereas in
the first canto he follows the text of Bligh's _Narrative_, in the three
last cantos he draws upon his imagination, turning Tahiti into Toobonai
(Tubuai), and transporting Toobonai from one archipelago to
another--from the Society to the Friendly Islands.
Another and still more surprising feature of _The Island_ is that Byron
accepts, without qualification or reserve, the guilt of the mutineers
and the innocence and worth of Lieutenant Bligh. It is true that by
inheritance he was imbued with the traditions of the service, and from
personal experience understood the necessity of discipline on board
ship; but it may be taken for granted that if he had known that the
sympathy, if not the esteem, of the public had been transferred from
Bligh to Christian, that in the opinion of grave and competent writers,
the guilt of mutiny on the high seas had been almost condoned by the
violence and brutality of the commanding officer, he would have sided
with the oppressed rather than the oppressor. As it is, he takes Bligh
at his own valuation, and carefully abstains from "eulogizing mutiny. "
(Letter to L. Hunt, January 25, 1823. )
The story of the "mutiny of the _Bounty_" happened in this wise. In 1787
it occurred to certain West India planters and merchants, resident in
London, that it would benefit the natives, and perhaps themselves, if
the bread-fruit tree, which flourished in Tahiti (the Otaheite of
Captain Cook and Sir Joseph Banks, see _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 7,
note 2) and other islands of the South Seas, could be acclimatized in
the West Indies. A petition was addressed to the king, with the result
that a vessel, with a burden of 215 tons, which Banks christened the
_Bounty_, sailed from Spithead December 23, 1787. Lieutenant William
Bligh, who had sailed with Cook in the _Resolution_, acted as commanding
officer, and under him were five midshipmen, a master, two master's
mates, etc. --forty-four persons all told. The _Bounty_ arrived at Tahiti
October 26, 1788, and there for six delightful months the ship's company
tarried, "fleeting the time carelessly, as in the elder world. " But
"Scripture saith an ending to all fine things must be," and on April 4,
1789, the _Bounty_, with a cargo of over a thousand bread-fruit trees,
planted in pots, tubs, and boxes (see for plate of the pots, etc. , _A
Voyage, etc. _, 1792, p. 1), sailed away westward for the Cape of Good
Hope, and the West Indies. All went well at first, but "just before
sun-rising" on Tuesday, April 28, 1789, "the north-westernmost of the
Friendly Islands, called Tofoa, bearing north-east," Fletcher Christian,
who was mate of the watch, assisted by Charles Churchill,
master-at-arms, Alexander Smith (the John Adams of Pitcairn Island), and
Thomas Burkitt, able seamen, seized the captain, tied his hands behind
his back, hauled him out of his berth, and forced him on deck. The
boatswain, William Cole, was ordered to hoist out the ship's launch,
which measured twenty-three feet from stem to stern, and into this open
boat Bligh, together with eighteen of the crew, who were or were
supposed to be on his side, were thrust, on pain of instant death. When
they were in the boat they were "veered round with a rope, and finally
cast adrift. " Bligh and his eighteen innocent companions sailed
westward, and, after a voyage of "twelve hundred leagues," during which
they were preserved from death and destruction by the wise ordering and
patient heroism of the commander, safely anchored in Koepang Bay, on the
north-west coast of the Isle of Timor, June 14, 1789. (See Bligh's
_Narrative, etc. _, 1790, pp. 11-88; and _The Island_, Canto I. section
ix. lines 169-201. )
The _Bounty_, with the remainder of the crew, twenty-five in number,
"the most able of the ship's company," sailed eastward, first to
Toobooai, or Tubuai, an island to the south of the Society Islands,
thence to Tahiti (June 6), back to Tubuai (June 26), and yet again, to
Tahiti (September 20), where sixteen of the mutineers, including the
midshipman George Stewart (the "Torquil" of _The Island_), were put on
shore. Finally, September 21, 1789, Fletcher Christian, with the
_Bounty_ and eight of her crew, six Tahitian men, and twelve women,
sailed away still further east to unknown shores, and, so it was
believed, disappeared for good and all. Long afterwards it was known
that they had landed on Pitcairn Island, broken up the _Bounty_, and
founded a permanent settlement.
When Bligh returned to England (March 14, 1790), and acquainted the
Government "with the atrocious act of piracy and mutiny" which had been
committed on the high seas, the _Pandora_ frigate, with Captain Edwards,
was despatched to apprehend the mutineers, and bring them back to
England for trial and punishment. The _Pandora_ reached Tahiti March 23,
1791, set sail, with fourteen prisoners, May 8, and was wrecked on the
"Great Barrier Reef" north-east of Queensland, August 29, 1791. Four of
the prisoners, including George Stewart, who had been manacled, and were
confined in "Pandora's box," perished in the wreck, and the remaining
ten were brought back to England, and tried by court-martial. (See _The
Eventful History of the Mutiny, etc. _ (by Sir John Barrow), 1831, pp.
205-244. )
The story, which runs through the second, third, and fourth cantos, may
possibly owe some of its details to a vague recollection of incidents
which happened, or were supposed to happen, at Tahiti, in the interval
between the final departure of the _Bounty_, September 21, 1789, and the
arrival of the _Pandora_, March 23, 1791; but, as a whole, it is a work
of fiction.
With the exception of the fifteenth and sixteenth cantos of _Don Juan_,
_The Island_ was the last poem of any importance which Byron lived to
write, and the question naturally suggests itself--Is the new song as
good as the old? Byron answers the question himself. He tells Leigh Hunt
(January 25, 1823) that he hopes the "poem will be a little above the
ordinary run of periodical poesy," and that, though portions of the
Toobonai (_sic_) islanders are "pamby," he intends "to scatter some
_un_common places here and there nevertheless. " On the whole, in point
of conception and execution, _The Island_ is weaker and less coherent
than the _Corsair_; but it contains lines and passages (_e. g. _ Canto I.
lines 107-124, 133-140; Canto II. lines 272-297; Canto IV. lines 94-188)
which display a finer feeling and a more "exalted wit" than the "purple
patches" of _The Turkish Tales_.
The poetic faculty is somewhat exhausted, but the poetic vision has been
purged and heightened by suffering and self-knowledge.
_The Island_ was reviewed in the _Monthly Review_, July, 1823, E. S. ,
vol. 101, pp. 316-319; the _New Monthly Magazine_, N. S. , 1823, vol. 8,
pp. 136-141; the _Atlantic Magazine_, April, 1826, vol. 2, pp. 333-337;
in the _Literary Chronicle_, June 21, 1823; and the _Literary Gazette_,
June 21, 1823.
ADVERTISEMENT.
The foundation of the following story will be found partly in Lieutenant
Bligh's "Narrative of the Mutiny and Seizure of the Bounty, in the South
Seas (in 1789);" and partly in "Mariner's Account of the Tonga Islands. "
GENOA, 1823.
THE ISLAND
CANTO THE FIRST.
I.
The morning watch was come; the vessel lay
Her course, and gently made her liquid way;[ex]
The cloven billow flashed from off her prow
In furrows formed by that majestic plough;
The waters with their world were all before;
Behind, the South Sea's many an islet shore.
The quiet night, now dappling, 'gan to wane,
Dividing darkness from the dawning main;
The dolphins, not unconscious of the day,
Swam high, as eager of the coming ray;
The stars from broader beams began to creep,
And lift their shining eyelids from the deep;[ey]
The sail resumed its lately shadowed white,
And the wind fluttered with a freshening flight;
The purpling Ocean owns the coming Sun,
But ere he break--a deed is to be done.
II.
The gallant Chief[352] within his cabin slept,
Secure in those by whom the watch was kept:
His dreams were of Old England's welcome shore,
Of toils rewarded, and of dangers o'er; 20
His name was added to the glorious roll
Of those who search the storm-surrounded Pole.
The worst was over, and the rest seemed sure,[353]
And why should not his slumber be secure?
Alas! his deck was trod by unwilling feet,
And wilder hands would hold the vessel's sheet;
Young hearts, which languished for some sunny isle,
Where summer years and summer women smile;
Men without country, who, too long estranged,
Had found no native home, or found it changed, 30
And, half uncivilised, preferred the cave
Of some soft savage to the uncertain wave--
The gushing fruits that nature gave unfilled;
The wood without a path--but where they willed;
The field o'er which promiscuous Plenty poured
Her horn; the equal land without a lord;
The wish--which ages have not yet subdued
In man--to have no master save his mood;[354]
The earth, whose mine was on its face, unsold,
The glowing sun and produce all its gold; 40
The Freedom which can call each grot a home;
The general garden, where all steps may roam,
Where Nature owns a nation as her child,
Exulting in the enjoyment of the wild;[ez]
Their shells, their fruits, the only wealth they know,
Their unexploring navy, the canoe;[fa]
Their sport, the dashing breakers and the chase;
Their strangest sight, an European face:--
Such was the country which these strangers yearned
To see again--a sight they dearly earned. 50
III.
Awake, bold Bligh! the foe is at the gate!
Awake! awake! ----Alas! it is too late!
Fiercely beside thy cot the mutineer
Stands, and proclaims the reign of rage and fear.
Thy limbs are bound, the bayonet at thy breast;
The hands, which trembled at thy voice, arrest;
Dragged o'er the deck, no more at thy command
The obedient helm shall veer, the sail expand;
That savage Spirit, which would lull by wrath
Its desperate escape from Duty's path, 60
Glares round thee, in the scarce believing eyes
Of those who fear the Chief they sacrifice:
For ne'er can Man his conscience all assuage,
Unless he drain the wine of Passion--Rage.
IV.
In vain, not silenced by the eye of Death,
Thou call'st the loyal with thy menaced breath:--
They come not; they are few, and, overawed,
Must acquiesce, while sterner hearts applaud.
In vain thou dost demand the cause: a curse
Is all the answer, with the threat of worse. 70
Full in thine eyes is waved the glittering blade,
Close to thy throat the pointed bayonet laid.
The levelled muskets circle round thy breast
In hands as steeled to do the deadly rest.
Thou dar'st them to their worst, exclaiming--"Fire! "
But they who pitied not could yet admire;
Some lurking remnant of their former awe
Restrained them longer than their broken law;
They would not dip their souls at once in blood,
But left thee to the mercies of the flood. [355] 80
V.
"Hoist out the boat! " was now the leader's cry;
And who dare answer "No! " to Mutiny,
In the first dawning of the drunken hour,
The Saturnalia of unhoped-for power?
The boat is lowered with all the haste of hate,
With its slight plank between thee and thy fate;
Her only cargo such a scant supply
As promises the death their hands deny;
And just enough of water and of bread
To keep, some days, the dying from the dead: 90
Some cordage, canvass, sails, and lines, and twine,
But treasures all to hermits of the brine,
Were added after, to the earnest prayer
Of those who saw no hope, save sea and air;
And last, that trembling vassal of the Pole--
The feeling compass--Navigation's soul. [356]
VI.
And now the self-elected Chief finds time
To stun the first sensation of his crime,
And raise it in his followers--"Ho! the bowl! "[357]
Lest passion should return to reason's shoal. [fb] 100
"Brandy for heroes! "[358] Burke could once exclaim--
No doubt a liquid path to Epic fame;
And such the new-born heroes found it here,
And drained the draught with an applauding cheer.
"Huzza! for Otaheite! "[359] was the cry.
How strange such shouts from sons of Mutiny!
The gentle island, and the genial soil,
The friendly hearts, the feasts without a toil,
The courteous manners but from nature caught,
The wealth unhoarded, and the love unbought; 110
Could these have charms for rudest sea-boys, driven
Before the mast by every wind of heaven?
And now, even now prepared with others' woes
To earn mild Virtue's vain desire, repose?
Alas! such is our nature! all but aim
At the same end by pathways not the same;
Our means--our birth--our nation, and our name,
Our fortune--temper--even our outward frame,
Are far more potent o'er our yielding clay
Than aught we know beyond our little day. 120
Yet still there whispers the small voice within,
Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din:
Whatever creed be taught, or land be trod,
Man's conscience is the Oracle of God. [360]
VII.
The launch is crowded with the faithful few
Who wait their Chief, a melancholy crew:
But some remained reluctant on the deck
Of that proud vessel--now a moral wreck--
And viewed their Captain's fate with piteous eyes;
While others scoffed his augured miseries, 130
Sneered at the prospect of his pigmy sail,
And the slight bark so laden and so frail.
The tender nautilus, who steers his prow,
The sea-born sailor of his shell canoe,
The ocean Mab, the fairy of the sea,
Seems far less fragile, and, alas! more free.
He, when the lightning-winged Tornados sweep
The surge, is safe--his port is in the deep--
And triumphs o'er the armadas of Mankind,
Which shake the World, yet crumble in the wind. 140
VIII.
When all was now prepared, the vessel clear
Which hailed her master in the mutineer,
A seaman, less obdurate than his mates,
Showed the vain pity which but irritates;
Watched his late Chieftain with exploring eye,
And told, in signs, repentant sympathy;
Held the moist shaddock to his parched mouth,
Which felt Exhaustion's deep and bitter drouth.
But soon observed, this guardian was withdrawn,
Nor further Mercy clouds Rebellion's dawn. [361] 150
Then forward stepped the bold and froward boy
His Chief had cherished only to destroy,
And, pointing to the helpless prow beneath,
Exclaimed, "Depart at once! delay is death! "
Yet then, even then, his feelings ceased not all:
In that last moment could a word recall
Remorse for the black deed as yet half done,
And what he hid from many showed to one:
When Bligh in stern reproach demanded where
Was now his grateful sense of former care? 160
Where all his hopes to see his name aspire,
And blazon Britain's thousand glories higher?
His feverish lips thus broke their gloomy spell,
"Tis that! 'tis that! I am in hell! in hell! "[362]
No more he said; but urging to the bark
His Chief, commits him to his fragile ark;
These the sole accents from his tongue that fell,
But volumes lurked below his fierce farewell.
IX.
The arctic[363] Sun rose broad above the wave;
The breeze now sank, now whispered from his cave; 170
As on the AEolian harp, his fitful wings
Now swelled, now fluttered o'er his Ocean strings. [fc]
With slow, despairing oar, the abandoned skiff
Ploughs its drear progress to the scarce seen cliff,
Which lifts its peak a cloud above the main:
_That_ boat and ship shall never meet again!
But 'tis not mine to tell their tale of grief,
Their constant peril, and their scant relief;
Their days of danger, and their nights of pain;
Their manly courage even when deemed in vain; 180
The sapping famine, rendering scarce a son
Known to his mother in the skeleton;[364]
The ills that lessened still their little store,
And starved even Hunger till he wrung no more;
The varying frowns and favours of the deep,
That now almost ingulfs, then leaves to creep
With crazy oar and shattered strength along
The tide that yields reluctant to the strong;
The incessant fever of that arid thirst[365]
Which welcomes, as a well, the clouds that burst 190
Above their naked bones, and feels delight
In the cold drenching of the stormy night,
And from the outspread canvass gladly wrings
A drop to moisten Life's all-gasping springs;
The savage foe escaped, to seek again
More hospitable shelter from the main;
The ghastly Spectres which were doomed at last
To tell as true a tale of dangers past,
As ever the dark annals of the deep
Disclosed for man to dread or woman weep. 200
X.
We leave them to their fate, but not unknown
Nor unredressed. Revenge may have her own:[fd]
Roused Discipline aloud proclaims their cause,
And injured Navies urge their broken laws.
Pursue we on his track the mutineer,
Whom distant vengeance had not taught to fear.
Wide o'er the wave--away! away! away!
Once more his eyes shall hail the welcome bay;
Once more the happy shores without a law
Receive the outlaws whom they lately saw; 210
Nature, and Nature's goddess--Woman--woos
To lands where, save their conscience, none accuse;
Where all partake the earth without dispute,[fe]
And bread itself is gathered as a fruit;[366]
Where none contest the fields, the woods, the streams:--
The goldless Age, where Gold disturbs no dreams,
Inhabits or inhabited the shore,
Till Europe taught them better than before;
Bestowed her customs, and amended theirs,
But left her vices also to their heirs. [367] 220
Away with this! behold them as they were,
Do good with Nature, or with Nature err.
"Huzza! for Otaheite! " was the cry,
As stately swept the gallant vessel by.
The breeze springs up; the lately flapping sail
Extends its arch before the growing gale;
In swifter ripples stream aside the seas,
Which her bold bow flings off with dashing ease.
Thus Argo ploughed the Euxine's virgin foam,[ff]
But those she wafted still looked back to home; 230
These spurn their country with their rebel bark,
And fly her as the raven fled the Ark;
And yet they seek to nestle with the dove,
And tame their fiery spirits down to Love.
End of Canto 1^st^, J^n 14.
CANTO THE SECOND.
I.
How pleasant were the songs of Toobonai,[368]
When Summer's Sun went down the coral bay!
Come, let us to the islet's softest shade,
And hear the warbling birds! the damsels said:
The wood-dove from the forest depth shall coo,
Like voices of the Gods from Bolotoo;[369]
We'll cull the flowers that grow above the dead,
For these most bloom where rests the warrior's head;
And we will sit in Twilight's face, and see
The sweet Moon glancing through the Tooa[370] tree, 10
The lofty accents of whose sighing bough
Shall sadly please us as we lean below;
Or climb the steep, and view the surf in vain
Wrestle with rocky giants o'er the main,
Which spurn in columns back the baffled spray.
How beautiful are these! how happy they,
Who, from the toil and tumult of their lives,
Steal to look down where nought but Ocean strives!
Even He too loves at times the blue lagoon,
And smooths his ruffled mane beneath the Moon. 20
II.
Yes--from the sepulchre we'll gather flowers,
Then feast like spirits in their promised bowers,
Then plunge and revel in the rolling surf,
Then lay our limbs along the tender turf,
And, wet and shining from the sportive toil,
Anoint our bodies with the fragrant oil,
And plait our garlands gathered from the grave,
And wear the wreaths that sprung from out the brave.
But lo! night comes, the Mooa[371] woos us back,
The sound of mats[372] are heard along our track; 30
Anon the torchlight dance shall fling its sheen
In flashing mazes o'er the Marly's[373] green;
And we too will be there; we too recall
The memory bright with many a festival,
Ere Fiji blew the shell of war, when foes
For the first time were wafted in canoes. [fg]
Alas! for them the flower of manhood bleeds;
Alas! for them our fields are rank with weeds:
Forgotten is the rapture, or unknown,[fh]
Of wandering with the Moon and Love alone. 40
But be it so:--_they_ taught us how to wield
The club, and rain our arrows o'er the field:
Now let them reap the harvest of their art!
But feast to-night! to-morrow we depart.
Strike up the dance! the Cava bowl[374] fill high!
Drain every drop! --to-morrow we may die.
In summer garments be our limbs arrayed;
Around our waists the Tappa's white displayed;
Thick wreaths shall form our coronal,[375] like Spring's,
And round our necks shall glance the Hooni strings; 50
So shall their brighter hues contrast the glow
Of the dusk bosoms that beat high below.
III.
But now the dance is o'er--yet stay awhile;
Ah, pause! nor yet put out the social smile.
To-morrow for the Mooa we depart,
But not to-night--to-night is for the heart.
Again bestow the wreaths we gently woo,
Ye young Enchantresses of gay Licoo! [376]
How lovely are your forms! how every sense
Bows to your beauties, softened, but intense,[fi] 60
Like to the flowers on Mataloco's steep,
Which fling their fragrance far athwart the deep! --
We too will see Licoo; but--oh! my heart! --
What do I say? --to-morrow we depart!
IV.
Thus rose a song--the harmony of times
Before the winds blew Europe o'er these climes.
True, they had vices--such are Nature's growth--
But only the barbarian's--we have both;
The sordor of civilisation, mixed
With all the savage which Man's fall hath fixed. 70
Who hath not seen Dissimulation's reign,
The prayers of Abel linked to deeds of Cain?
Who such would see may from his lattice view
The Old World more degraded than the New,--
Now _new_ no more, save where Columbia rears
Twin giants, born by Freedom to her spheres,
Where Chimborazo, over air,--earth,--wave,--
Glares with his Titan eye, and sees no slave. [fj][377]
V.
Such was this ditty of Tradition's days,
Which to the dead a lingering fame conveys 80
In song, where Fame as yet hath left no sign
Beyond the sound whose charm is half divine;
Which leaves no record to the sceptic eye,
But yields young History all to Harmony;
A boy Achilles, with the Centaur's lyre
In hand, to teach him to surpass his sire.
For one long-cherished ballad's[378] simple stave,
Rung from the rock, or mingled with the wave,
Or from the bubbling streamlet's grassy side,
Or gathering mountain echoes as they glide, 90
Hath greater power o'er each true heart and ear,
Than all the columns Conquest's minions rear;[fk]
Invites, when Hieroglyphics[379] are a theme
For sages' labours, or the student's dream;
Attracts, when History's volumes are a toil,--
The first, the freshest bud of Feeling's soil.
Such was this rude rhyme--rhyme is of the rude--
But such inspired the Norseman's solitude,
Who came and conquered; such, wherever rise
Lands which no foes destroy or civilise, 100
Exist: and what can our accomplished art
Of verse do more than reach the awakened heart? [380]
VI.
And sweetly now those untaught melodies
Broke the luxurious silence of the skies,
The sweet siesta of a summer day,
The tropic afternoon of Toobonai,
When every flower was bloom, and air was balm,
And the first breath began to stir the palm,
The first yet voiceless wind to urge the wave
All gently to refresh the thirsty cave, 110
Where sat the Songstress with the stranger boy,
Who taught her Passion's desolating joy,
Too powerful over every heart, but most
O'er those who know not how it may be lost;
O'er those who, burning in the new-born fire,
Like martyrs revel in their funeral pyre,
With such devotion to their ecstacy,
That Life knows no such rapture as to die:
And die they do; for earthly life has nought
Matched with that burst of Nature, even in thought; 120
And all our dreams of better life above
But close in one eternal gush of Love.
VII.
There sat the gentle savage of the wild,
In growth a woman, though in years a child,
As childhood dates within our colder clime,
Where nought is ripened rapidly save crime;
The infant of an infant world, as pure
From Nature--lovely, warm, and premature;
Dusky like night, but night with all her stars;
Or cavern sparkling with its native spars; 130
With eyes that were a language and a spell,
A form like Aphrodite's in her shell,
With all her loves around her on the deep,
Voluptuous as the first approach of sleep;
Yet full of life--for through her tropic cheek
The blush would make its way, and all but speak;
The sun-born blood suffused her neck, and threw
O'er her clear nut-brown skin a lucid hue,
Like coral reddening through the darkened wave,
Which draws the diver to the crimson cave. 140
Such was this daughter of the southern seas,
Herself a billow in her energies,[fl]
To bear the bark of others' happiness,
Nor feel a sorrow till their joy grew less:
Her wild and warm yet faithful bosom knew
No joy like what it gave; her hopes ne'er drew
Aught from Experience, that chill touchstone, whose
Sad proof reduces all things from their hues:
She feared no ill, because she knew it not,
Or what she knew was soon--too soon--forgot: 150
Her smiles and tears had passed, as light winds pass
O'er lakes to ruffle, not destroy, their glass,
Whose depths unsearched, and fountains from the hill,
Restore their surface, in itself so still,
Until the Earthquake tear the Naiad's cave,
Root up the spring, and trample on the wave,
And crush the living waters to a mass,
The amphibious desert of the dank morass!
And must their fate be hers? The eternal change
But grasps Humanity with quicker range; 160
And they who fall but fall as worlds will fall,
To rise, if just, a Spirit o'er them all.
VIII.
And who is he? the blue-eyed northern child[381]
Of isles more known to man, but scarce less wild;
The fair-haired offspring of the Hebrides,
Where roars the Pentland with its whirling seas;
Rocked in his cradle by the roaring wind,
The tempest-born in body and in mind,
His young eyes opening on the ocean-foam,
Had from that moment deemed the deep his home, 170
The giant comrade of his pensive moods,
The sharer of his craggy solitudes,
The only Mentor of his youth, where'er
His bark was borne; the sport of wave and air;
A careless thing, who placed his choice in chance,
Nursed by the legends of his land's romance;
Eager to hope, but not less firm to bear,
Acquainted with all feelings save despair.
Placed in the Arab's clime he would have been
As bold a rover as the sands have seen, 180
And braved their thirst with as enduring lip
As Ishmael, wafted on his Desert-Ship;[382]
Fixed upon Chili's shore, a proud cacique:
On Hellas' mountains, a rebellious Greek;[383]
Born in a tent, perhaps a Tamerlane;
Bred to a throne, perhaps unfit to reign.
For the same soul that rends its path to sway,
If reared to such, can find no further prey
Beyond itself, and must retrace its way,[384]
Plunging for pleasure into pain: the same 190
Spirit which made a Nero, Rome's worst shame,
A humbler state and discipline of heart,
Had formed his glorious namesake's counterpart;[385]
But grant his vices, grant them all his own,
How small their theatre without a throne!
IX.
