The fall of Nineveh A poem by Edwin Atherstone. Second edition: diligently corrected, and otherwise improved. In two volumes |
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| 28. | BOOK THE TWENTY-EIGHTH. |
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 | The fall of Nineveh |  |
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BOOK THE TWENTY-EIGHTH.
So fared the wretched king. But, in the camp,
To greater end the moments, big with fate
Of millions, had been passed. Since hour of noon,
Anxiously watchful, thousands had looked forth,
Hoping, ere sank the doom-suspending sun,
That, from the city issuing, they might see
The messengers of peace. But, girt with clouds,
Fire-edged and angry, the red orb went down;
And the last day of lingering mercy died!
To greater end the moments, big with fate
Of millions, had been passed. Since hour of noon,
Anxiously watchful, thousands had looked forth,
Hoping, ere sank the doom-suspending sun,
That, from the city issuing, they might see
The messengers of peace. But, girt with clouds,
Fire-edged and angry, the red orb went down;
And the last day of lingering mercy died!
Soon, in Arbaces' tent the captains met,
To hasty council summoned: and himself
The first thus spake. “No answer hath been sent:
The truce is o'er; and, by to-morrow's dawn,—
So swiftly ebbs the river,—we may storm,
Dry-shod, the breach. But, ye have marked the heavens,
The iron clouds, and heard the wailing wind;
And know that tempest threatens; yea with signs
Strange and portentous. If again should fall
The cataracts from heaven's ocean,—ere the morn,
Tigris again will rise, and bar the way:
And we still long must wait. The enemy
As yet expects us not; nor, haply, knows
How far hath ebbed the flood: for, by the breach,
No watch is stationed. At the set of sun,
Valiant and trusty men I sent,—the depth
To try; and carefully the ground explore,
For best, and surest entrance. Not one man
Stood there to spy for enemy! To the knee,
Not deeper, did they wade: the ruins, then,
At two great gaps o'erclimbing,—openings clear
Right in the city saw they: nor, even there,
Found one to question them. I counsel, then,
That, with all safe despatch, this very night
Assault be made;—so may success be won,
The surest, soonest; and with least of loss
To us, and them, alike. If wise ye deem
This counsel,—then my farther thoughts at once
Will I expound; for all have I designed;
And time for act is short.”
To hasty council summoned: and himself
The first thus spake. “No answer hath been sent:
The truce is o'er; and, by to-morrow's dawn,—
So swiftly ebbs the river,—we may storm,
Dry-shod, the breach. But, ye have marked the heavens,
The iron clouds, and heard the wailing wind;
And know that tempest threatens; yea with signs
Strange and portentous. If again should fall
The cataracts from heaven's ocean,—ere the morn,
Tigris again will rise, and bar the way:
And we still long must wait. The enemy
As yet expects us not; nor, haply, knows
How far hath ebbed the flood: for, by the breach,
No watch is stationed. At the set of sun,
Valiant and trusty men I sent,—the depth
To try; and carefully the ground explore,
For best, and surest entrance. Not one man
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Not deeper, did they wade: the ruins, then,
At two great gaps o'erclimbing,—openings clear
Right in the city saw they: nor, even there,
Found one to question them. I counsel, then,
That, with all safe despatch, this very night
Assault be made;—so may success be won,
The surest, soonest; and with least of loss
To us, and them, alike. If wise ye deem
This counsel,—then my farther thoughts at once
Will I expound; for all have I designed;
And time for act is short.”
The general voice
Loudly approved; and then again he spake.
Loudly approved; and then again he spake.
“All night will be thick darkness: nor, till dawn,
Will rise even the worn moon. With prudent speed,
Let all prepare them, then, that, from the camp,
One hour ere midnight we may take our way.
The favoring breeze right from the city blows;
So, haply, may no sound of our approach
Reach the dull watchers' ears: yet, cautiously,
Slowly, and silently, must all move on:
And this the order be of our attack.
Will rise even the worn moon. With prudent speed,
Let all prepare them, then, that, from the camp,
One hour ere midnight we may take our way.
The favoring breeze right from the city blows;
So, haply, may no sound of our approach
Reach the dull watchers' ears: yet, cautiously,
Slowly, and silently, must all move on:
And this the order be of our attack.
“Archers, and spearmen, two score thousand strong,
Shall at both gaps assault: but all the rest,—
Chariots, and horse, and foot,—in separate bands,
Before each northern gate must take their place;
And, silent, wait the event. The breach once passed,
The soldiers then, in firm array, right on,
Stopping for nought, must speed; and every gate
That fronts the camp fling open. Let the horse
First enter. Through the Nisroch gate who pass,
Or gate of Palms,—must toward the palace haste;
And hem it round, that no one thence may 'scape.
The infantry, quick following them, its gates
Must burst, or overclimb; and from his den
Drag forth the tyrant. Meantime, through the squares,
And the chief streets, shall cars and horse move on,
To check advancing foes. The despot slain,
Or captured, brief resistance will be made,
And mercy sued for. Haply, so, may peace,
Even on the morrow, this dire contest end.
Shall at both gaps assault: but all the rest,—
Chariots, and horse, and foot,—in separate bands,
Before each northern gate must take their place;
And, silent, wait the event. The breach once passed,
The soldiers then, in firm array, right on,
Stopping for nought, must speed; and every gate
That fronts the camp fling open. Let the horse
First enter. Through the Nisroch gate who pass,
Or gate of Palms,—must toward the palace haste;
And hem it round, that no one thence may 'scape.
The infantry, quick following them, its gates
Must burst, or overclimb; and from his den
Drag forth the tyrant. Meantime, through the squares,
And the chief streets, shall cars and horse move on,
To check advancing foes. The despot slain,
Or captured, brief resistance will be made,
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Even on the morrow, this dire contest end.
“Throughout the camp, then, unto every man,
Be these things well made known; confusion, else,
May come upon us, and discomfiture,
Or heavy loss. And, furthermore, to all
Thus be it ordered. ‘Till the word shall come,
Let not a soldier, tempted howsoe'er,
For plunder rove: since, separate from the rest,
Might many be cut off. Let no man strike
The unarmed, or unresisting; for such deed
Shame would bring on us. Lastly, let all heed
That none upon a woman lay the hand
Of violence; for such shall surely die.’
Be these things well made known; confusion, else,
May come upon us, and discomfiture,
Or heavy loss. And, furthermore, to all
Thus be it ordered. ‘Till the word shall come,
Let not a soldier, tempted howsoe'er,
For plunder rove: since, separate from the rest,
Might many be cut off. Let no man strike
The unarmed, or unresisting; for such deed
Shame would bring on us. Lastly, let all heed
That none upon a woman lay the hand
Of violence; for such shall surely die.’
“Now, with all temperate haste, unto our tasks
Let us go forth: and may the mighty gods
Give to our labors victory, and peace!”
Let us go forth: and may the mighty gods
Give to our labors victory, and peace!”
He ended: all were glad, and went their way:
And soon throughout the camp was heard the hum
Of cautious preparation; man to man
In low tone speaking; the dull clink of arms
Hastily donned; the tread of horses' feet;
The gentle roll of chariots, in array
Warily ordered: and, at length, the tramp,
Stealthy, and slow, of all that mighty host,
'Mid darkness marching on.
And soon throughout the camp was heard the hum
Of cautious preparation; man to man
In low tone speaking; the dull clink of arms
Hastily donned; the tread of horses' feet;
The gentle roll of chariots, in array
Warily ordered: and, at length, the tramp,
Stealthy, and slow, of all that mighty host,
'Mid darkness marching on.
As day's great lamp
Beneath the western hills in pomp went down,—
On him no more to rise,—Assyria's king,
To the resplendent chamber of the sun,
For his last banquet went. Already placed
Each on her lustrous seat, in richest robes
Dazzling to look upon, the concubines
His coming waited. Like a summer's dew
In the first sunbeam, costliest gems, and pearls,
Hung thick upon them. Round the spacious hall
Up-piled, might seem the treasures of a world.
The air was perfume. Music exquisite,—
Faint as in noontide dreams of tender maid,
Sick with first love,—in distance rose, and fell.
All that could palate, eye, ear, fancy, charm,
Was there abundant: all save that pure joy,
That sunshine of the heart, in which alone
Lives happiness. A hundred women, young
And beautiful; of all the ransacked East,
The choicest flowers, arose as he went in.
Beneath the western hills in pomp went down,—
On him no more to rise,—Assyria's king,
To the resplendent chamber of the sun,
For his last banquet went. Already placed
Each on her lustrous seat, in richest robes
Dazzling to look upon, the concubines
His coming waited. Like a summer's dew
In the first sunbeam, costliest gems, and pearls,
Hung thick upon them. Round the spacious hall
Up-piled, might seem the treasures of a world.
The air was perfume. Music exquisite,—
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Sick with first love,—in distance rose, and fell.
All that could palate, eye, ear, fancy, charm,
Was there abundant: all save that pure joy,
That sunshine of the heart, in which alone
Lives happiness. A hundred women, young
And beautiful; of all the ransacked East,
The choicest flowers, arose as he went in.
In his most gorgeous robes attired,—with gems
Glittering like sun-sparks on a bubbling spring,—
The monarch entered; and, with blandest word
And smile, to all gave greeting.
Glittering like sun-sparks on a bubbling spring,—
The monarch entered; and, with blandest word
And smile, to all gave greeting.
But that smile
Strange was, and fearful: each her breath drew quick
Each to the other looked, and then again
Upon the king; and inwardly all said,
“Distempered is his brain; his look is gaunt
As if shrunk up with age!”
Strange was, and fearful: each her breath drew quick
Each to the other looked, and then again
Upon the king; and inwardly all said,
“Distempered is his brain; his look is gaunt
As if shrunk up with age!”
Yet, with forced glee,
From one to the other went the unconscious king,
And spake the words of gladness. But his voice
Was hollow as the echo in a vault;
His eyes shone torch-like; from his touch came fire:
And, when fond words he whispered in the ear,
Like hot steam from a caldron seemed his breath.
From one to the other went the unconscious king,
And spake the words of gladness. But his voice
Was hollow as the echo in a vault;
His eyes shone torch-like; from his touch came fire:
And, when fond words he whispered in the ear,
Like hot steam from a caldron seemed his breath.
Aghast all looked upon him, as on thing,
Not of this world: and each, as he drew near,
Trembled, and would have fled.
Not of this world: and each, as he drew near,
Trembled, and would have fled.
But, at the feast,
At length, they sat; and joyously, and loud,
From bands unseen, the stirring music pealed.
At length, they sat; and joyously, and loud,
From bands unseen, the stirring music pealed.
Deeply the monarch drank; and with gay tones,
Still feigned high merriment. But, as the sun,
Through the hoar mist of Arctic region, shoots
On icy pinnacle his slanting beam,
Powerless to thaw,—so vainly strove his mirth,
The frost of grief and fear which bound each heart,
In joy to melt. At times, a pallid face
In answer strove to smile; 'twas like the glance
Of moonlight on a marble sepulchre:
A forced, and feeble laugh, at times, replied;
It seemed a mirth-dressed sob.
Still feigned high merriment. But, as the sun,
Through the hoar mist of Arctic region, shoots
On icy pinnacle his slanting beam,
Powerless to thaw,—so vainly strove his mirth,
The frost of grief and fear which bound each heart,
In joy to melt. At times, a pallid face
In answer strove to smile; 'twas like the glance
Of moonlight on a marble sepulchre:
286
It seemed a mirth-dressed sob.
The night drew on:
With choicest fruits, and flowers, and nectarous wines,
The tables now were spread. The attendants all
Had been dismissed; and with his concubines
Alone the king remained. Then called he out
For louder, gladder music; and stood up,
Inviting to the dance.
With choicest fruits, and flowers, and nectarous wines,
The tables now were spread. The attendants all
Had been dismissed; and with his concubines
Alone the king remained. Then called he out
For louder, gladder music; and stood up,
Inviting to the dance.
Obedient rose
The beauteous victims; but their languid limbs
Heavily moved, as if of life half 'reft;
Their looks were mournful, as of those who weep
Above the just-closed grave.
The beauteous victims; but their languid limbs
Heavily moved, as if of life half 'reft;
Their looks were mournful, as of those who weep
Above the just-closed grave.
“Ho! cease the dance!
Cease music, cease!” exclaimed the angry king,
On the floor harshly stamping. “What means this?
What cloud is it hangs o'er you, shedding night,
Where should be summer's day-beam? Ye are owls,
Who should be nightingales; or, rather, larks,
Singing as up they go to meet the day;
For your day is at hand. To-morrow's sun
Shall witness the deliverance of you all.
From out the gates shall ye ride joyously;
Each bearing gold, and gems, the dower of queen.
Amid yon rebel camp, with open arms
Will ye be welcomed; and the proudest there,
Will bend the knee, and sue to be your slaves,
Your wedded slaves. Behold these chests of gold,
These jewel-caskets,—each a mine of wealth!
All, all are yours. To-morrow, at high noon,
Gather together here, and take your fill.
To me they now are nothing; spare them not;
For, if not yours, a spoil will they become
To the vile rebel. Then away with care,
And let your eyes be bright. Take each a cup,
A brimming cup of soul-delighting wine:
Let mirth and jocund dance so fire our hearts,
That, to the end of time, it may be said,
Assyria's merriest revel was his last.”
Cease music, cease!” exclaimed the angry king,
On the floor harshly stamping. “What means this?
What cloud is it hangs o'er you, shedding night,
Where should be summer's day-beam? Ye are owls,
Who should be nightingales; or, rather, larks,
Singing as up they go to meet the day;
For your day is at hand. To-morrow's sun
Shall witness the deliverance of you all.
From out the gates shall ye ride joyously;
Each bearing gold, and gems, the dower of queen.
Amid yon rebel camp, with open arms
Will ye be welcomed; and the proudest there,
Will bend the knee, and sue to be your slaves,
Your wedded slaves. Behold these chests of gold,
These jewel-caskets,—each a mine of wealth!
All, all are yours. To-morrow, at high noon,
Gather together here, and take your fill.
To me they now are nothing; spare them not;
For, if not yours, a spoil will they become
To the vile rebel. Then away with care,
And let your eyes be bright. Take each a cup,
A brimming cup of soul-delighting wine:
Let mirth and jocund dance so fire our hearts,
That, to the end of time, it may be said,
Assyria's merriest revel was his last.”
They heard, astonished; and, with brightening looks,
Quaffed each the nectarous draught; for every heart
Throbbed wildly with gay hope; and love for him,
The despot king, felt none. Of happy homes
Fondly they thought; and many a soft eye gleamed
With tears of sudden joy. In virgin youth,
From parents, brethren, sisters,—and the land
That gave them birth, had some been torn away;
From loving, broken-hearted husbands, some.
The tyrant's will no human tie could bind:
Report of beauty heard,—he had sent forth
Command to seize it: and none dared resist!
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Throbbed wildly with gay hope; and love for him,
The despot king, felt none. Of happy homes
Fondly they thought; and many a soft eye gleamed
With tears of sudden joy. In virgin youth,
From parents, brethren, sisters,—and the land
That gave them birth, had some been torn away;
From loving, broken-hearted husbands, some.
The tyrant's will no human tie could bind:
Report of beauty heard,—he had sent forth
Command to seize it: and none dared resist!
Filled now with hope of feeedom,—every face
Beamed sunshine; and the heavy limb grew light,
As it might tread on air.
Beamed sunshine; and the heavy limb grew light,
As it might tread on air.
The tyrant marked
That sudden brightening; and his heart was wroth.
They joyed to leave him then! him! earth's dread lord!
They, the poor slaves, to whom his lightest look
Had been a law; whose lives were on his breath;
They joyed to leave him!
That sudden brightening; and his heart was wroth.
They joyed to leave him then! him! earth's dread lord!
They, the poor slaves, to whom his lightest look
Had been a law; whose lives were on his breath;
They joyed to leave him!
In his maddening brain
Then first awoke a diabolic thought!
Like gleam from hell, on his black soul it came;
Glared hideously,—and went: too soon, alas!
Fiercer to come again! A strange, dark smile
Gloomed o'er his face; yet horror chilled his blood:
He started, as from some terrific dream;
Hastily took again the guise of mirth;
And mingled in the dance; called out, anon,
For merrier music; quaffed the frequent cup;
And thought he laughed at fate.
Then first awoke a diabolic thought!
Like gleam from hell, on his black soul it came;
Glared hideously,—and went: too soon, alas!
Fiercer to come again! A strange, dark smile
Gloomed o'er his face; yet horror chilled his blood:
He started, as from some terrific dream;
Hastily took again the guise of mirth;
And mingled in the dance; called out, anon,
For merrier music; quaffed the frequent cup;
And thought he laughed at fate.
Thus sped the hours.
All in the palace marvelled, when they heard,
Far on in night, those sounds of revelry;
Knowing the period of the truce was o'er;
And that the foe, like couchant lion, watched
The moment for his spring. The very morn
So soon to follow on that reckless night,
Might see, perchance, the shielding flood withdrawn;
The human deluge pouring through the breach.
All in the palace marvelled, when they heard,
Far on in night, those sounds of revelry;
Knowing the period of the truce was o'er;
And that the foe, like couchant lion, watched
The moment for his spring. The very morn
So soon to follow on that reckless night,
Might see, perchance, the shielding flood withdrawn;
The human deluge pouring through the breach.
But none there dreamed that, even then, the plain
Trembled beneath the tread of armëd hosts,
The hot steed's trample, and the chariot-wheel.
288
The hot steed's trample, and the chariot-wheel.
Even they who on the battlement kept guard,
Heard not their coming; for the gathering wind,
Right from the city toward the hostile camp
Swept strongly,—bringing on its wings the moan
Of fires wide scattered, and the din confused
Of those who toiled to quench them; but all sounds
Upon the plain beneath, bore far away.
So, nought suspecting, in the dreamy mood
Of wearied men who watch, they walked and mused.
And when, at length, some broad and heavy drops,
Wide scattered, heralding a storm, 'gan fall,—
Their hope was, that the flood again might rise,
And baffle still the foe. Thus, dreading nought
Of present danger, each man, as he might,
From wind and rain sought shelter.
Heard not their coming; for the gathering wind,
Right from the city toward the hostile camp
Swept strongly,—bringing on its wings the moan
Of fires wide scattered, and the din confused
Of those who toiled to quench them; but all sounds
Upon the plain beneath, bore far away.
So, nought suspecting, in the dreamy mood
Of wearied men who watch, they walked and mused.
And when, at length, some broad and heavy drops,
Wide scattered, heralding a storm, 'gan fall,—
Their hope was, that the flood again might rise,
And baffle still the foe. Thus, dreading nought
Of present danger, each man, as he might,
From wind and rain sought shelter.
But, at length,
When the deep thunder in the distance spake;
And on the far horizon gleamed the fires
Of hotly warring lightnings; and 'gan fall,
With quicker, broader, heavier, harder plash,
The strong, large rain,—then, here and there, looked forth
A solitary watcher, inly glad
At thought of havoc that dire-threatening storm
Might bring upon the enemy. But lo!
Sun-bright beneath the lightnings, the plain burned
With hosts of mail-clad men; chariots and horse,
Moving together on!
When the deep thunder in the distance spake;
And on the far horizon gleamed the fires
Of hotly warring lightnings; and 'gan fall,
With quicker, broader, heavier, harder plash,
The strong, large rain,—then, here and there, looked forth
A solitary watcher, inly glad
At thought of havoc that dire-threatening storm
Might bring upon the enemy. But lo!
Sun-bright beneath the lightnings, the plain burned
With hosts of mail-clad men; chariots and horse,
Moving together on!
A moment gleamed
That sight of dread; then all again was dark,
Formless, and soundless. Had it been a dream,
Or sense-illusion? Haply so thought some.
But no: the alarm was given: out came the blast
Of warning trumpets; peal on peal they rang;
From point to point, through all the city flew
The dread alarum.
That sight of dread; then all again was dark,
Formless, and soundless. Had it been a dream,
Or sense-illusion? Haply so thought some.
But no: the alarm was given: out came the blast
Of warning trumpets; peal on peal they rang;
From point to point, through all the city flew
The dread alarum.
Starting from their sleep,
Upsprang the myriads; some, in haste to arm;
Some, wild with terror, shrieking; some, to hide
Their wives, their children, or their little wealth;
Some bent on flight; some to their gods in prayer
Hastily falling down; but all amazed,
Confused, and terror-struck.
Upsprang the myriads; some, in haste to arm;
Some, wild with terror, shrieking; some, to hide
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Some bent on flight; some to their gods in prayer
Hastily falling down; but all amazed,
Confused, and terror-struck.
Yet still was doubt
Among the watchers on the battlement;
For few had seen; and, when the rest sped forth
To look upon the field,—in such dense cloud
Drove the slant rain that, though the heavens again
Brightly were kindled, scarce an arrow-flight
Could keenest vision pierce. Amazed, confused,
They shrank, and to their shelter fled again;
Sure that no foe, against that angry heaven
Could dare contend.
Among the watchers on the battlement;
For few had seen; and, when the rest sped forth
To look upon the field,—in such dense cloud
Drove the slant rain that, though the heavens again
Brightly were kindled, scarce an arrow-flight
Could keenest vision pierce. Amazed, confused,
They shrank, and to their shelter fled again;
Sure that no foe, against that angry heaven
Could dare contend.
But, 'mid the storm's dread howl,
Fearful though faint, anon the blast was heard
Of hostile trumpet sounding the assault.
Fearful though faint, anon the blast was heard
Of hostile trumpet sounding the assault.
When first the Medes,—along the river's bank
Advancing toward the breach,—the alarum heard
Upon the battlement; and knew the foe
Was roused, and arming; and when, like a stream
From precipice launched, against them dashed the rain,
And in their eyes the ceaseless lightnings gleamed,—
Staggered were they, bewildered; and stood still,
Bending the head; ashamed to turn the back;
Not daring to go on; expecting all
The signal to retire.
Advancing toward the breach,—the alarum heard
Upon the battlement; and knew the foe
Was roused, and arming; and when, like a stream
From precipice launched, against them dashed the rain,
And in their eyes the ceaseless lightnings gleamed,—
Staggered were they, bewildered; and stood still,
Bending the head; ashamed to turn the back;
Not daring to go on; expecting all
The signal to retire.
But not so dreamed
Their god-like leader, ever in the van
Of danger eminent; and daring most,
When most the peril. As the trumpet's clang,
And shaking banner, the young war-horse stirs,—
So the hoarse thunder, and the fiery bolts,
His strong soul lifted. Backward looking now,—
For at their head, beside the guides, he walked,—
Dismay he saw among his troops, and doubt,—
Fatal confusion threatening. Starting forth,
Toward them he hasted; and, from line to line,
Along the flank advancing, sent his voice,
Loud as a lion's roar at dead of night,
Far borne upon the wind, and rousing up,
As with new wine, their hearts: “On, on, brave men
Your home is now the city, not the camp.
God is our captain! His great gonfalons,
The lightnings, lead us on to victory!”
Their god-like leader, ever in the van
Of danger eminent; and daring most,
When most the peril. As the trumpet's clang,
And shaking banner, the young war-horse stirs,—
So the hoarse thunder, and the fiery bolts,
His strong soul lifted. Backward looking now,—
For at their head, beside the guides, he walked,—
Dismay he saw among his troops, and doubt,—
Fatal confusion threatening. Starting forth,
Toward them he hasted; and, from line to line,
Along the flank advancing, sent his voice,
Loud as a lion's roar at dead of night,
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As with new wine, their hearts: “On, on, brave men
Your home is now the city, not the camp.
God is our captain! His great gonfalons,
The lightnings, lead us on to victory!”
With words like these, from rank to rank he went,
And poured into them fire. A trumpet then,
From one who stood beside him, he snatched up;
And his own mighty breath into the brass
Drove storm-like; sounding signal of assault,
Rapid and fierce, till the strong metal rang
As it would shiver. With a joyous shout
The host gave answer; and moved boldly on;
Bending against the tempest; and resolved
On conquest, or on death.
And poured into them fire. A trumpet then,
From one who stood beside him, he snatched up;
And his own mighty breath into the brass
Drove storm-like; sounding signal of assault,
Rapid and fierce, till the strong metal rang
As it would shiver. With a joyous shout
The host gave answer; and moved boldly on;
Bending against the tempest; and resolved
On conquest, or on death.
Yet still spake out,
From time to time the trumpets; on, still on,
Urging assault: and still along the line
The voice of their great captain was sent forth,
Their hearts to strengthen: for, with gathering rage,
The tempest howled and yelled: against its might,
Scarce could the strongest move; and oft they swerved,
And staggered, as they walked. Like corn full ripe
Beneath the wind, whole masses to and fro
Reeled heavily: yet still on, on, they went,
Forcing their arduous way. The vault of heaven
Seemed as one thunder-cloud. Lightning, and rain,
Dashed into mist, ran battling on the ground.
Dazzled, confused, amazed, yet resolute still,
Thus on they toiled, slowly and painfully:
But when, at length, the foremost gained the breach,
Behold! the enemy, in numbers thick
As bees around the hive about to swarm,
Gathered to bar their entrance!
From time to time the trumpets; on, still on,
Urging assault: and still along the line
The voice of their great captain was sent forth,
Their hearts to strengthen: for, with gathering rage,
The tempest howled and yelled: against its might,
Scarce could the strongest move; and oft they swerved,
And staggered, as they walked. Like corn full ripe
Beneath the wind, whole masses to and fro
Reeled heavily: yet still on, on, they went,
Forcing their arduous way. The vault of heaven
Seemed as one thunder-cloud. Lightning, and rain,
Dashed into mist, ran battling on the ground.
Dazzled, confused, amazed, yet resolute still,
Thus on they toiled, slowly and painfully:
But when, at length, the foremost gained the breach,
Behold! the enemy, in numbers thick
As bees around the hive about to swarm,
Gathered to bar their entrance!
Yet, at once,
No moment pausing,—such their chief's command,—
Began the fierce assault. The archers, first,
Their huge bows bent, and in a cloud let fly
Death-threatening shafts. Alas! by rain relaxed,
The strengthless sinews failed: mail-piercing bolts
Became as toys; and, midway toward the foe,
Dropped harmless. Backward went the archer bands,
Useless, abashed: and, in their place, advanced
A host of spearmen. Through both gaps at once,
Led by the guides, the iron columns strove
To force the dangerous way. Up clambering thick,
Above the rock-like ruins of the wall,
Pressed myriads onward: but, at every point,
Like hornets issuing to defend their nest,
Sprang up the foe; nor way was made at all.
No lack of light; for scarce an instant slept
The thunderer's bolts: and when, a moment, fell
Black darkness,—they but paused, and drew hard breath;
Then leaped to fight anew.
No moment pausing,—such their chief's command,—
Began the fierce assault. The archers, first,
Their huge bows bent, and in a cloud let fly
Death-threatening shafts. Alas! by rain relaxed,
The strengthless sinews failed: mail-piercing bolts
291
Dropped harmless. Backward went the archer bands,
Useless, abashed: and, in their place, advanced
A host of spearmen. Through both gaps at once,
Led by the guides, the iron columns strove
To force the dangerous way. Up clambering thick,
Above the rock-like ruins of the wall,
Pressed myriads onward: but, at every point,
Like hornets issuing to defend their nest,
Sprang up the foe; nor way was made at all.
No lack of light; for scarce an instant slept
The thunderer's bolts: and when, a moment, fell
Black darkness,—they but paused, and drew hard breath;
Then leaped to fight anew.
But, from the pass
Where hottest raged the strife, the Medes, at length,
Backward were driv'n; for there the choicest men,
And bravest captains of the Assyrians stood.
Yet still the Median spearmen to assault
Fiercely returned; bore onward for a space,
And still again retired; for, in the front
Of battle, furious as a tiger, raged
The madman Zimri; to full strength restored,
From that dread blow of his great enemy,
Arbaces, in the midnight conflict dealt;
Which him to shades of death well nigh had sent;
And which to avenge, or perish, now he longed;
Hoping, in stress of battle, once again
To meet his hated foe.
Where hottest raged the strife, the Medes, at length,
Backward were driv'n; for there the choicest men,
And bravest captains of the Assyrians stood.
Yet still the Median spearmen to assault
Fiercely returned; bore onward for a space,
And still again retired; for, in the front
Of battle, furious as a tiger, raged
The madman Zimri; to full strength restored,
From that dread blow of his great enemy,
Arbaces, in the midnight conflict dealt;
Which him to shades of death well nigh had sent;
And which to avenge, or perish, now he longed;
Hoping, in stress of battle, once again
To meet his hated foe.
That senseless wish
Fate granted; for, as sunshine fires the cloud,
Turning the dark to ruby and to gold,
So, on the hearts of the now wavering Medes,—
Again forced backward,—rose the glorious voice
Of their great leader, as, all bright in arms,
Flame-like beneath the lightnings,—at their head
Suddenly came he; and, with clarion tone,
Cheered them to victory.
Fate granted; for, as sunshine fires the cloud,
Turning the dark to ruby and to gold,
So, on the hearts of the now wavering Medes,—
Again forced backward,—rose the glorious voice
Of their great leader, as, all bright in arms,
Flame-like beneath the lightnings,—at their head
Suddenly came he; and, with clarion tone,
Cheered them to victory.
The great golden shield
Blazing before him; in his strong right hand
The gleaming battle-axe—Jove's thunderbolt
Scarce swifter, deadlier—right upon the foe,
Maugre the bristling spears and flashing swords,—
As, on a numerous herd, a lion springs,
So, singly, on went he.
Blazing before him; in his strong right hand
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Scarce swifter, deadlier—right upon the foe,
Maugre the bristling spears and flashing swords,—
As, on a numerous herd, a lion springs,
So, singly, on went he.
At that dread sight,
That voice appalling—even o'er hurricane
And thunder heard—well might the bravest fear,
And feel his strength to fail: but Zimri knew
Nor fear, nor reason; for, with hate and rage,
His brain was like a fire. At one wild bound
Upon the Mede he sprang; one blow let fall;
Then sank, disparted! for the griding axe
Cut through the shield, and shore in twain the neck,
As a sharp scythe the thistle.
That voice appalling—even o'er hurricane
And thunder heard—well might the bravest fear,
And feel his strength to fail: but Zimri knew
Nor fear, nor reason; for, with hate and rage,
His brain was like a fire. At one wild bound
Upon the Mede he sprang; one blow let fall;
Then sank, disparted! for the griding axe
Cut through the shield, and shore in twain the neck,
As a sharp scythe the thistle.
One brief glance
Upon the quivering face Arbaces cast;
From his axe-handle plucked the riven shield,
And onward hasted. Terror-stricken now,
The Assyrians turned, and through the rugged way
Fled headlong. He, pursuing, past the wall
In open space arrived. But, as a bark
Amid the breakers shooting, where the sea,
And some disgorging river, hotly clash,—
At prow, and stern, and either side, at once,
Meets the fierce war of waves,—so, 'mid the throng
Of enemies pouring on, the invincible Mede
Soon on all sides was hemmed.
Upon the quivering face Arbaces cast;
From his axe-handle plucked the riven shield,
And onward hasted. Terror-stricken now,
The Assyrians turned, and through the rugged way
Fled headlong. He, pursuing, past the wall
In open space arrived. But, as a bark
Amid the breakers shooting, where the sea,
And some disgorging river, hotly clash,—
At prow, and stern, and either side, at once,
Meets the fierce war of waves,—so, 'mid the throng
Of enemies pouring on, the invincible Mede
Soon on all sides was hemmed.
By rage and fear
Driven frantic; daring, from excess of dread;
As feeble sparrows at the hawk will peck,
Hovering too nigh their nest,—upon him sprang
A crowd who, man to man, had fled from him,
As deer before the lion. But the sweep
Of his tremendous axe, clear room soon made;
And on he moved, as if, to all that host,
Singly, the equal: onward still went he;
Nor looked behind, to mark if on his track
Followed the spearmen; for he deemed the hand
Of heaven itself was with him; and the shield
Of God put forth to guard him.
Driven frantic; daring, from excess of dread;
As feeble sparrows at the hawk will peck,
Hovering too nigh their nest,—upon him sprang
A crowd who, man to man, had fled from him,
As deer before the lion. But the sweep
Of his tremendous axe, clear room soon made;
And on he moved, as if, to all that host,
Singly, the equal: onward still went he;
Nor looked behind, to mark if on his track
Followed the spearmen; for he deemed the hand
293
Of God put forth to guard him.
But his course,
Check sharp and fearful met; for, hissing fell,
Even at his feet, a sun-bright thunderstone,
Rending the earth, and scattering in his face
A sulphurous dust. A peal that shook the ground
Burst with it; and came then a darkness thick,
An utter blackness. On his cheek he felt
The hot breath of the lightning; and his sight
Seemed blasted. “I am stricken blind!” he said:
“O'er proud of heart I was; and the just gods
Fitly have punished! To a worthier hand
Be their great work committed! Oh forgive,
Dread Powers unknown; for weak and vain is man,
Erring and ignorant, ever! My last breath
I give unto your praise: and may my blood,
Now to be shed, cleanse mine iniquities!”
Check sharp and fearful met; for, hissing fell,
Even at his feet, a sun-bright thunderstone,
Rending the earth, and scattering in his face
A sulphurous dust. A peal that shook the ground
Burst with it; and came then a darkness thick,
An utter blackness. On his cheek he felt
The hot breath of the lightning; and his sight
Seemed blasted. “I am stricken blind!” he said:
“O'er proud of heart I was; and the just gods
Fitly have punished! To a worthier hand
Be their great work committed! Oh forgive,
Dread Powers unknown; for weak and vain is man,
Erring and ignorant, ever! My last breath
I give unto your praise: and may my blood,
Now to be shed, cleanse mine iniquities!”
Down to his knees he sank; then, on his face
Fell prostrate; and in silence waited death.
Fell prostrate; and in silence waited death.
The sky again was kindled: and, behold!
Joy to Assyrian eyes, their dreaded foe
Stretched on the earth, as dead! The bolt, they deemed,
Had smitten him: and all who near him stood,—
Hoping the king's reward,—with headlong haste
Rushed on to seize him. Still in speechless prayer,
With eyes fast closed he lay; around him felt
The human torrent pouring,—eager hands
Everywhere clutching him,—outrageous cries,
As of a clamoring army, round him heard;
And marvelled that as yet they smote him not.
Thus wondering, by mere instinct ope'd his eyes;
And lo! the light, the blessed light again
Shining as ever on them! Had he dreamed
Of blindness? or, in mercy, had the gods,
By act miraculous, and for great ends,
Restored the sight they had taken? Like the glance
Of sun on rising wave, across his mind
Shot the bright thought.
Joy to Assyrian eyes, their dreaded foe
Stretched on the earth, as dead! The bolt, they deemed,
Had smitten him: and all who near him stood,—
Hoping the king's reward,—with headlong haste
Rushed on to seize him. Still in speechless prayer,
With eyes fast closed he lay; around him felt
The human torrent pouring,—eager hands
Everywhere clutching him,—outrageous cries,
As of a clamoring army, round him heard;
And marvelled that as yet they smote him not.
Thus wondering, by mere instinct ope'd his eyes;
And lo! the light, the blessed light again
Shining as ever on them! Had he dreamed
Of blindness? or, in mercy, had the gods,
By act miraculous, and for great ends,
Restored the sight they had taken? Like the glance
Of sun on rising wave, across his mind
294
As, at the touch of flame,
The nitrous dust, cold, black, and motionless,
Starts up, a spirit of fire,—with strength intense,
Rending, and hurling,—so, by that great hope,
To more than mortal might enkindled, sprang
Suddenly up the Mede.
The nitrous dust, cold, black, and motionless,
Starts up, a spirit of fire,—with strength intense,
Rending, and hurling,—so, by that great hope,
To more than mortal might enkindled, sprang
Suddenly up the Mede.
As on his rock
Above the clouds, the eagle, through the storm
Upsoaring, in clear sunshine lights at last;
And from his strong wings in a shower shakes off
The glittering rain-drops:—or, as from the wheel,
Rapidly whirling, in a cloud is driven
The crushed and scattered dust,—even so, his foes,—
With fury as of flame, and might that laughed
Their strength to scorn,—far off Arbaces flung.
Above the clouds, the eagle, through the storm
Upsoaring, in clear sunshine lights at last;
And from his strong wings in a shower shakes off
The glittering rain-drops:—or, as from the wheel,
Rapidly whirling, in a cloud is driven
The crushed and scattered dust,—even so, his foes,—
With fury as of flame, and might that laughed
Their strength to scorn,—far off Arbaces flung.
Strange terror seized them then: a god, they deemed,
His form had taken; and, aghast, they fled.
Yet numbers, who that more than mortal might,
For distance, had not seen, still crowded on;
Thrusting aside the timid,—all athirst
Their enemy's blood to shed.
His form had taken; and, aghast, they fled.
Yet numbers, who that more than mortal might,
For distance, had not seen, still crowded on;
Thrusting aside the timid,—all athirst
Their enemy's blood to shed.
But, lifted now
Beyond all former daring; every nerve
Charged as by lightning; every sinew strong
As tempered steel; and confident that heaven
Its champion had appointed him,—right on
The heroic Mede advanced. Against the wind,
As slowly, firmly, moves the thunder-cloud,—
So, 'gainst the tempest of his enemies,
Dreadless, and irresistible, bore he.
Beyond all former daring; every nerve
Charged as by lightning; every sinew strong
As tempered steel; and confident that heaven
Its champion had appointed him,—right on
The heroic Mede advanced. Against the wind,
As slowly, firmly, moves the thunder-cloud,—
So, 'gainst the tempest of his enemies,
Dreadless, and irresistible, bore he.
Behind him close, his spearmen tracked his steps,—
A broad, dense column of protruding steel;
A living, moving wall. But, in their front,
Courage regaining, thronged the enemy,—
From all parts pouring on to check their way;
And, wanting their great captain, ill had fared
The Median spearmen then. He, rising still
In power, and daring, as the peril more,
And difficulty gathered,—like a god
Mixing in mortal battle, might have seemed;—
So terrible his aspect; such his deeds;
Surpassing human.
A broad, dense column of protruding steel;
A living, moving wall. But, in their front,
Courage regaining, thronged the enemy,—
From all parts pouring on to check their way;
And, wanting their great captain, ill had fared
The Median spearmen then. He, rising still
In power, and daring, as the peril more,
And difficulty gathered,—like a god
295
So terrible his aspect; such his deeds;
Surpassing human.
As, in burning waste
Of Afric,—when the numerous caravan
Toils slowly on, and the worn travellers drink,
In fancy, of the cool delicious spring,—
Darkening, and reddening, the thick atmosphere,
Like cloud of smouldering flame, 'gins wrap them in:
No sound is heard, no breath of air is felt;
In speechless terror all the portents mark;
And the tired camel casts a wistful eye,
Feeling a peril;—if in distance, then,
The Red Plague of the desert is descried,—
The Fiery Column, with an eagle's speed
Careering, charged with death,—aghast with fear,
Face to the earth, the panting travellers fall:
The camels drop; and in the burning sand,
By instinct lessoned, deep their nostrils hide;
And, trembling, every living thing lies mute,—
Even with such terror, at the dread approach
Of their dire Battle-Plague, the Assyrians shrank;
And on, still on, toward nearest northern gate,
Unchecked he held his way.
Of Afric,—when the numerous caravan
Toils slowly on, and the worn travellers drink,
In fancy, of the cool delicious spring,—
Darkening, and reddening, the thick atmosphere,
Like cloud of smouldering flame, 'gins wrap them in:
No sound is heard, no breath of air is felt;
In speechless terror all the portents mark;
And the tired camel casts a wistful eye,
Feeling a peril;—if in distance, then,
The Red Plague of the desert is descried,—
The Fiery Column, with an eagle's speed
Careering, charged with death,—aghast with fear,
Face to the earth, the panting travellers fall:
The camels drop; and in the burning sand,
By instinct lessoned, deep their nostrils hide;
And, trembling, every living thing lies mute,—
Even with such terror, at the dread approach
Of their dire Battle-Plague, the Assyrians shrank;
And on, still on, toward nearest northern gate,
Unchecked he held his way.
From west to east,
From north to south, through all the city rose
Wild cries and wailings. Hastily equipped,
From every quarter poured the soldiers on,—
Roused by the trumpets; but unordered all,
Unknowing where the foe. The stony streets
Rang loudly to the clatter of the steeds,
And chariots' thunder. Voice, to lifted voice,
Replied, and asked again. Some here, some there,
Reported the assault. By lightning, now,
Dazzled to blindness; now, in thickest night
Shut up, as in a vault,—slow way they made;
And terror, and amazement mastered all!
From north to south, through all the city rose
Wild cries and wailings. Hastily equipped,
From every quarter poured the soldiers on,—
Roused by the trumpets; but unordered all,
Unknowing where the foe. The stony streets
Rang loudly to the clatter of the steeds,
And chariots' thunder. Voice, to lifted voice,
Replied, and asked again. Some here, some there,
Reported the assault. By lightning, now,
Dazzled to blindness; now, in thickest night
Shut up, as in a vault,—slow way they made;
And terror, and amazement mastered all!
| The fall of Nineveh | |