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To see them live, torn from your arms, distained,
36. THE PATRIOT'S PASS-WORD. - James Montgomery. The noble voluntary death of the Switzer, Winkelried, is accurately described in the following verses. In the battle of Shempach, in the fourteenth century, this martyr-patriot, perceiving that there was no other means of breaking the heavy-armed lines of the Austrians than by gathering as many of their spears as he could grasp together, opened, by this meany, a passage for his fellow-combatants, who, with hammers and hatchets, hewed down the mailed men-at-arms, and won the victory.
“ MAKE way for liberty!” he cried,
Made way for liberty, and died !
She must not fall; her better fate
freeman was a host,
37. RICHARD TO THE PRINCES OF THE CRUSADE.- Sir Walter Scott. B. 1771; d. 1832
And is it even so ? And are our brethren at such pains to note the infirmities of our natural temper, and the rough precipitance of our zeal, which may have sometimes urged us to issue commands when there was little time to hold council ? I could not have thought that offences,
casual and unpremeditated, like mine, could find such deep root in the hearts of my allies in this most holy cause, that, for my sake, they should withdraw their hand from the plough when the furrow was near the end; for my sake, turn aside from the direct path to Jerusalem, which their swords have opened. I vainly thought that my small services might have outweighed my rash errors; that, if it were remembered that I pressed to the van in an assault, it would not be forgotten that I was ever the last in the retreat; that, if I elevated my banner upon conquered fields of battle, it was all the advantage I sought, while others were dividing the spoil. I may have called the conquered city by my name, but it was to others that I yielded the dominion. If I have been headstrong in urging bold counsels, I have not, methinks, spared my own blood, or my people's, in carrying them into as bold execution; or, if I have, in the hurry of march or battle, assumed a command over the soldiers of others, such have ever been treated as my own, when my wealth purchased the provisions and medicines which their own sovereigns could not procure.
But it shames me to remind you of what all but myself seem to have forgotten. Let us rather look forward to our future measures; and, believe me, brethren, you shall not find the pride, or the wrath, or the ambition of Richard, a stumbling-block of offence in the path to which religion and glory summon you, as with the trumpet of an archangel! 0, no, no! never would I survive the thought that my frailties and infirmities had been the means to sever this goodly fellowship of assembled princes. I would cut off my left hand with my right, could my doing so attest my sincerity. I will yield up, voluntarily, all right to command in the host even mine own liege subjects. They shall be led by such sovereigns as you may nominate; and their King, ever but too apt to exchange the leader's baton for the adventurer's lance, will serve under the banner of Beauseant among the Templars, –ay, or under that of Austria, if Austria will name a brave man to lead his forces. Or, if ye are yourselves a-weary of this war, and feel your armor chase your tender bodies, leave but with Richard some ten or fifteen thousand of your soldiers to work out the accomplishment of your vow; and, when Zion is won, — when Zion is won, — we will write upon her gates, not the name of Richard Plantagenet, but of those generous Princes who intrusted him with the means of conquest!
38. THE EARL OF RICHMOND TO HIS ARMY. — Shakspeare.
MoRE than I have said, loving countrymen,
Richard except, those whom we fight against
39. HENRY V. TO HIS SOLDIERS.-Shakspeare. What’s he that wishes for more men from England ? My cousin Westmoreland ? No, my fair cousin ; If we are marked to die, we are enow To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honor. I pray thee do not wish for one man more. By Jove, I am not covetous of gold; Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not if men my garments wear ; Such outward things dwell not in my desires : But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive. No, 'faith, my Lord, wish not a man from England : I would not lose, methinks, so great an honor, As only one man more would share from me, For the best hope I have. O! do not wish one more :
Rather, proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
This day is called the feast of Crispian :
40. THE BATTLE OF IVRY. – T. B. Macaulay. Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are ! And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Navarre ! Now let there be the merry sound of music and the dance, Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vales, O pleasant land of
France ! And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters; As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, For cold and stiff and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy. Hurrah! hurrah! a single field hath turned the chance of war ; Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry, and King Henry of Navarre !