I : XXXIX - XLV The Inglorious Three

The Giant standing on the mountains is not there to polish the heroes' shining armours, but a blood-thirsty monster waiting for his cultivation. Pointless hatred between the three nations empowered the devil of war, and death was the bitter brew. 

The dawn before the battle must have been most suffocating.

Chaos, devastation, destruction. Each team advanced to protect the glory of their colour. It's rather subtly sarcastic of the poet to emphasize how it's is indeed a splendid sight for those who's got no attachments in the world, and then clearly pointing out that the winner in the end, is none other than the kingdom of the underworld.

If you don't go yowza over the writing of this stanza then I wonder what would ever impress you! It's insufferably breathtaking how the intensity of the battle, the complication of the relationships between the participants of the battle, are depicted with the three parallel opening lines. Then Byron, again, didn't in the least conceal his sarcastic attitude towards this pointless battle.

Namely it was the battle of Talavera, mentioned here. O it must have been a sorry sight if you'd been there. 7390 French, 1200 Spanish and 5500 British soldiers killed or wounded. Considering people back then can only kill with blades, these statistics are terrifying. (And then if you think about how many casualties in TODAY's wars we have, you can bend and weep forever.)

Map of Battle of Talavera

What Harold sees and what Byron laments is not only one particular tyrant, but the phenomenon of war itself. Glory and fame can make leaders blind. So much of the victory is a barter of human sacrifice and blood of their subjects. 

There's a time lapse between this stanza and the previous one. Byron was on the road between 1809-1811. On 16 of May 1811, the Battle of Albuera happened, not far from the sight of Talavera! Being a swift battle, Albuera was said to be the bloodiest battle during the entire of peninsular war, resulting the largest proportion of casualties.

Marshal Beresford disarming a Polish lancer at the Battle of Albuera. Print by T. Sutherland, 1831

How do you campare the invasion of other countries, vandalizing foreign lands, to the domestic quarrels between neighbours? There we go again with Byron's subtle (or maybe not so subtle) sarcasm. Indeed maybe those soldiers will die in a less glorifying death in their home, maybe during a conflict of something worthless; however, isn't the war itself proved to be pretty worthless? Nobody won in the end, and all sides limped with their torn bodies and trails of bloodstain.

I'm more than a little confused about the timeline here.  In 1812, Anglo-Spanish ally finally got the French invaders out of Seville after they got in since January of 1810. Seville being the biggest and most flourished city in Andalusia, had always been the target of invasions. The triumphs might have been indicating driving the Moors our during mid century.

Ilion, or Ilium, or as we might just call it Troy, and then Tyre, a Phoenician port city, two of the wondrous places Byron juxtaposes with Seville, each representing an "inevitable" destruction of a beautiful city with vast riches.

There's a hope in the end as Harold turns his head away from the ancient ruins: virtue is the still most powerful warrior and can still bring conscience back to this land.