The Poems of Grotius.
It remains to mention the "Poems of Grotius:" throughout his life, he sacrificed to the Muses. The Prosopopoeia, in which he introduces the City of Ostend addressing the world, when, in the third year of her siege, the Marquis Spinola led the troops of Spain against her, was greatly, admired. All the adjacent territory had been taken by the Spaniards, so that nothing remained of it to the confederates, but the precinct within the walls of the city; and even much of this had been wrested from the besieged. All Europe had its eye fixed on the operations of Spinola. It is therefore, with great propriety of language, that Grotius makes Ostend thus address herself to the world, in the following lines:-
"Area parva ducum, totus quam respicit orbis;
Celsior una malis, et quam damnare ruinae
Nunc quoque fata timent,-alieno in litore resto.
Tertius annus abit; toties mutavimus hostem:
Sævit hyems pelago, morbisque furentibus æstas;
Et minimum est quod fecit Iber,-crudelior armis
In nos orta lues,-nullum est sine funere funus.
Nec perimit mors una semel:-Fortuna quid haeres?
Quâ mercede tenes mixtos in sanguine manes?
Quis tumulos moriens hos occupet hoste perempto?
Queritur,-et sterili tantum de pulvere pugna est."
"A small area of chiefs, whom the whole world contemplates;
alone loftier than my woes; I, whom the
Fates even yet, fear to condemn to ruin;-remain on a foreign shore.
"The third year now passes away; thrice has my foe been changed:
"The winter rages on the sea; the summer, by its furious heats.
"The Spaniard has been my least enemy;-more cruel
than arms, a pestilence has risen among us; no funeral is
without another; the dying never perish by a single death.
"Fortune! why do'st thou hesitate? By what reward
do'st thou detain the manes mingled in blood?
"Who, dying, will, after the destruction of the enemy,
occupy these tombs?-This is enquired.-
The contest is only for sterile dust."
With the following poetical translation of these verses, the writer has been favoured by Mr. Sotheby, the elegant translator of "Oberon."
Scant battle-field of Chiefs, thro' earth renown'd,
Opprest, I loftier tow'r;-and, now, while Fate
Dreads to destroy, in foreign soil I stand.
Thrice chang'd the year, thrice have we chang'd the Foe.
Fierce Winter chafes the Deep, the Summer burns
With fell disease: less fell th' Iberian sword.
Dire Pestilence spreads;-on funerals funerals swell:
Nor does one death at once extirpate all.
Why, Fortune! linger? why our souls detain
With blood immingled? Who, the Foe extinct,
Who, dying, shall these sepulchres possess,
And in this sterile dust the conflict close?
W.S.
March 28,1826.
CHAP. III. 1597-1610.
These verses produced a great sensation in the literary world: they were ascribed by many to Scaliger, as the best Latin poet of the age; the only person considered to be capable of writing them. The celebrated Peyresck hinted this to that learned man: Scaliger answered, that "he was too old not to be the aversion of the virgins of Helicon," and announced that the verses were written by Grotius. They were translated into French by Du Vair, afterwards the keeper of the seals; by Rapin, grand-provost of the Constabulary of France; by Stephen Pasquier, and by Malherbes: Casaubon translated them into Greek.[[013]]
The Poems of Grotius.
Three Generals had successively been entrusted with the siege of Ostend; nine commanders had successively been entrusted with its defence: the siege had cost the besiegers and besieged 100,000 lives: all the historians of the times agree, that few important consequences were derived to either side by the success of the Spaniards. The Archduke and Infanta, had the curiosity to view the city, after it was taken. They found in it nothing but heaps of ruins: little that shewed the former state of the town; its ditches were filled, its fortifications overthrown, its buildings, and the works of attack and defence, were levelled with the ground. Spinola led them to the spots in which the most remarkable events had taken place; and, finally to that, in which the forces of the besieged had made their last stand; had, for want of space, found themselves unable to raise military works, and had, on that account, found themselves forced to surrender. The Archduke and the Infanta were moved to tears at the melancholy sight; and declared that such a victory was not worth its cost.