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of praise, than the self-devotion of Field-Marshal Beresford, who was contented to undertake all the hazard of obloquy which might have been founded upon any miscarriage in the highly important experiment of training the Portugueze troops to an improved state of discipline. In exposing his military reputation to the censure of imprudence from the most moderate, and all manner of unutterable calumnies from the ignorant and malignant, he placed at stake the dearest pledge which a military man had to offer, and nothing but the deepest conviction of the high and essential importance attached to success can be supposed an adequate motive. How greatthe chance of miscarriage was supposed, may be estimated from the general opinion of officers of unquestioned talents and experience, possessed of every opportunity of information,-how completely the experiment has succeeded, and how much the spirit and patriotism of our ancient allies had been under-rated, is evident, not only from those victories in which they have borne a distinguished share, but from the liberal and highly honourable manner in which these opinions have been retracted. The success of this plan, with all its important consequences, we owe to the indefatigable exertions of Field Marshal Beresford.

a race renowned of old, Whose war-cry oft has waked ihe battle-swell. St. XVII. p. 629. This stanza alludes to the various achievements of the warlike family of Græme, or Grahame. They are said by tradition to have descended from the Scottish chief under whose command his countrymen stormed the wall built by the Emperor Severus, between the firths of Forth and Clyde, the fragments of which are still popularly called Græme's Dyke. Sir John the Graham, “the hardy wight, and wise,” is well known as the friend of Sir William Wallace. Alderne, Kilsyth, and Tibbermuir, were scenes of the victories of the heroic Marquis of Montrose. The pass of Killie-crankie is famous for the action between King William's forces and the Highlanders in 1689,

“ Where glad Duodec in faint buzzas expired.” It is seldom that one line can number so many heroes, and yet more rare when it can appeal to the glory of a living descendant in support of its ancient renown. The allusions to the private history and character of General Grahame may be illustrated by referring to the eloquent and affecting speech of Mr Sheridan, upon the vote of thanks to the Victor of Barosa.





In an evil day and an hour of woe

Did Garci Ferrandez wed!
He wedded the Lady Argentine,
He loved the Lady Argentine,

The Lady Argentine hath fled.
In an evil day and an hour of woe
She hath left the husband who loved her so,

To go to Count Aymerique's bed.
Garci Ferrandez was brave and young,

The loveliest of the land ; There was never a knight of Leon in the fight Who could meet the force of his matchless might, There was never a foe in the infidel band

Who against his dreadful sword could stand; And yet Count Garci's strong right hand

Was shapely, and soft, and white; As white and as soft as a lady's hand

Was the hand of the beautiful knight.

In an evil day and an hour of woe
To Garci's Hall did Count Aymerique go,

In an evil hour and a luckless night
From Garci's Hall did he take his fight,
And bear with him that lady bright,

That lady false, his bale and bane.

There was feasting and joy in Count Aymerique's bower,

When he with triumph, and pomp, and pride,
Brought home the adultress like a bride;
His daughter only sate in her tower,

She sate in her lonely tower alone,
And for her dead mother she made her moan;
Methinks, said she, my father for me

Might have brought a bridegroom home.
A stepmother he brings hither

Count Aymerique will not his daughter should wed,
But he brings home a Leman for his own bed.

So thoughts of good and thoughts of ill
Were working thus in Abba's will,
And Argentine with evil intent

Ever to work her woe was bent,
That still she sate in her tower alone,

And in that melancholy gloom,
When for her mother she made her moan,

She wished her father too in the tomb.

She watches the pilgrims and poor who wait

For daily food at her father's gate.
would some knight were there, thought she,

Disguised in pilgrim-weeds for me!
For Aymerique's blessing I would not stay,
Nor he nor his Leman should say me nay,

But I with him would wend away,
She watches her handmaid the pittance deal,

They took their dole and went away.
But yonder is one who lingers still
As though he had something in his will,

Some secret which he fain would say ;
And close to the portal she sees him go,
He talks with her handmaid in accents low;
Oh then she thought that time went slow,

And long were the minutes that she must wait
Till her handmaid came from the castle gate.
From the castle gate her handmaid came,
And told her that a Knight was there,

Who sought to speak with Abba the fair,
Count Aymerique's beautiful daughter and heir.

She bade the stranger to her bower.
His stature was tall, his features bold;

A goodlier form might never maid
At tilt or tourney hope to see,
And though in pilgrim weeds arrayed,
Yet noble in his weeds was he,

And did his arms in them enfold
As they were robes of royalty.

He told his name to the damsel fair,
He said that vengeance led him there ;
Now aid me, lady dear, quoth he,
To smite the adultress in her pride;
Your wrongs and mine avenged shall be,
And I will take

you for my

He pledged the word of a true knight,
From out the weeds his hand he drew.
She took the hand that Garci gave,
And then she knew the tale was true,

For she saw the warrior's hand so white, And she knew the fame of the beautiful Knight.


'Tis the hour of noon, The bell of the convent hath done,

And the Sexts are begun;
The Count and his Leman are gone to their meat.

They look to their pages, and lo they see
Where Abba, a stranger so long before,
The ewer, and bason, and napkin bore;
She came and knelt on her bended knee,
And first to her father ministred she.
Count Aymerique looked on his daughter down,
He looked on her then without a frown.

And next to the Lady Argentine

Humbly she went and knelt;
The Lady Argentine the while

A haughty wonder felt,
Her face put on an evil smile ;

I little thought that I should see
The Lady Abba kneel to me
In service of love and courtesy !
Count Aymerique, the Leman cried,
Is she weary of her solitude,

Or hath she quella her pride?

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