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ous than the besieging army. Had the diminished strength and numbers of the Latins allowed them to grasp the whole circumference of four thousand yards about two English miles and a half-to what useful purpose should they have descended into the valley of Ben Himmon and torrent of Cedron, or approached the precipices of the south and east, from whence they had nothing either to hope or fear? Their siege was more reasonably directed against the northern and western sides of the city. Godfrey of Bouillon erected his standard on the first swell of Mount Calvary; to the left, as far as St. Stephen's gate, the line of attack was continued by Tancred and the two Roberts; and Count Raymond established his quarters from the citadel to the foot of Mount Sion, which was no longer included within the precincts of the city. On the fifth day the crusaders made a general assault, in the fanatic hope of battering down the walls without engines, and of scaling them without ladders. By dint of brutal force, they burst the first barrier, but they were driven back with shame and slaughter to the camp: the influence of vision and prophecy was deadened by the too frequent abuse of those pious stratagems, and time and labor were found to be the only means of victory. The time of the siege was indeed fulfilled in forty days, but they were forty days of calamity and anguish. A repetition of the old complaint of famine may be imputed in some degree to the voracious or disorderly appetite of the Franks, but the stony soil of Jerusalem is almost destitute of water; the scanty springs and hasty torrents were dry in the summer season; nor was the thirst of the besiegers relieved, as in the city, by the artificial supply of cisterns and aqueducts. The circumjacent country is equally destitute of trees for the uses of shade or building, but some large beams were discovered in a cave by the crusaders: a wood near Sichem, the enchanted grove of Tasso, was cut down: the necessary timber was transported to the camp by the vigor and dexterity of Tancred; and the engines were framed by some Genoese artists, who had fortunately landed in the harbor of Jaffa. Two movable turrets were constructed at the expense and in the stations of the Duke of Lorraine and the Count of Tholouse, and rolled forwards with devout labor, not to the most accessible, but to the most neglected parts of the fortification. Raymond's tower was reduced to ashes by the fire of the besieged, but his colleague was more vigilant and successful; the enemies were driven by his archers from the rampart; the drawbridge was let down; and on a Friday, at three in the afternoon, the day and hour of the Passion, Godfrey of Bouillon stood victorious on the walls of Jerusalem. His example was followed on every side by the emulation of valor; and about four hundred and sixty years after the conquest of Omar, the holy city was rescued from the Mohammedan yoke. In the pillage of public and private wealth, the adventurers had agreed to respect the exclusive property of the first occupant; and the spoils of the great mosque—seventy lamps and massy vases of gold and silver-rewarded the diligence and displayed the generosity of Tancred. A bloody sacrifice was offered by his mistaken votaries to the God of the Christians : resistance might provoke, but neither age nor sex could mollify their implacable rage; they indulged themselves three days in a promiscuous massacre, and the infection of the dead bodies produced an an epidemical disease. After seventy thousand Moslems had been put to the sword, and the harmless Jews had been burnt in their synagogue, they could still reserve a multitude of captives whom interest or lassitude persuaded them to spare. Of these savage heroes of the cross, Tancred alone betrayed some sentiments of compassion; yet we may praise the more selfish lenity of Raymond, who granted a capitulation and safe conduct to the garrison of the citadel. The holy sepulchre was now free; and the bloody victors prepared to accomplish their vow. Bareheaded and barefoot, with contrite hearts, and in an humble posture, they ascended the hill of Calvary amidst the loud anthems of the clergy; kissed the stone which had covered the Savior of the world, and bedewed with tears of joy and penitence the monument of their redemption.
TWILIGHT ON THE BATTLE- Their king, their lords, their mightiest, low, FIELD.
They melted from the field, as snow,
When streams are swoln and south winds (From "Marmion," Canto VI.)
, Dissolves in silent dew. Still rose the battle's deadly swell,
SIR WALTER SCOTT. For still the Scots, around their king, Unbroken, fought in desperate ring. Where's now their victor vanward wing,
THE DESTRUCTION OF SENWhere Huntly and where Home?
DHE Assyrian came down like the wolf on When Rowland brave, and Oliver,
the fold, And every paladin and peer
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and On Roncesvalles died !
gold; Such blast might warn them, not in vain,
And the sheen of their spears was like stars To quit the plunder of the slain,
on the sea, And turn the doubtful day again,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep While yet on Flodden side,
II. Afar, the Royal Standard flies, And round it toils and bleeds, and dies Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is Our Caledonian pride!
green, In vain the wish, for, far away,
That host with their banners at sunset were While spoil and havoc mark their way,
seen: Near Sybil's Cross the plunderers stray. Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn
hath blown, *
That host on the morrow lay wither'd and But as they left the darkening heath,
strown. More desperate grew the strife of death. The English shafts in volleys hailed,
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on In headlong charge their horse assailed;
the blast, Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep And breathed in the face of the foe as he To break the Scottish circle deep
pass'd; That fought around their king.
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and But yet, though thick the shafts as snow,
chill, Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, And their hearts but once heaved, and forThough bill-men ply the ghastly blow,
ever grew still!
And there lay the steed with his nostril all Each stepping where his comrade stood
wide, The moment that he fell.
But through it there roll'd not the breath of No thought was there of dastard flight;
his pride: Linked in the serried phalanx tight,
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the Groom fought like noble, squire like knight,
turf, As fearlessly and well;
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating Till utter darkness closed her wing
surf. O'er their thin host and wounded king.
v. Then skillful Surrey's wise commands
And there lay the rider distorted and pale, Led back from strife his shattered bands; With the dew on his brow, and the rust on And from the charge they drew,
his mail; As mountain-waves, from wasted lands, And the tents were all silent, the banners Sweep back to ocean blue.
alone, Then did their loss his foemen know;
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
G HEUER & KIRMJE X.A. “ "Press where you see my white plume shine amidst the ranks ot war,
And be your oriflamme to-day the helmet of Navarre !'”
The king is come to marshal us in all his arAnd the widows of Ashur are loud in their mor dressed, wail,
And he has bound a snow-white plume upon And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; his gallant crest. And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the He looked upon his people, and a tear was in
sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the He looked upon the traitors, and his glance Lord!
was stern and high.
from wing to wing,
save our lord the King!" IVRY.
“ And if my standard bearer fall, as fall full OW glory to the Lord of hosts, from
well he may, whom all glories are!
For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody And glory to our sovereign liege, King Henry fray, of Navarre!
Press where ye see my white plume shine Now let there be the merry sound of music
amidst the ranks of war, and of dance,
And be your oriflamme to-day the helmet of Through thy cornfields green, and sunny vines, Navarre !"
oh pleasant land of France ! And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud Hurrah ! the foes are moving! Hark to the city of the waters,
mingled din Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and mourning daughters;
roaring culverin! As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in The fiery duke is pricking fast across Saint our joy,
Andre's plain, For cold, and stiff, and still are they who With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and wrought thy walls annoy.
Almayne. Turrah! hurrah! a single field hath turned Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlethe chance of war;
men of France, Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry, and Henry of Na- Charge for the golden lilies—upon them with varre.
the lance! A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thou
sand spears in rest, Oh! how our hearts were beating, when at
A thousand knights are pressing close behind the dawn of day,
the snow-white crest; We saw the army of the League drawn out And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, in long array,
like a guiding star, With all its priest-led citizens, and all its Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the hel
rebel peers, And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's
met of Navarre. Flemish spears. There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the Now, God be praised! the day is ours! Maycurses of our land !
enne hath turned his rein, And dark Mayenne was in their midst, a trun- D'Aumale hath cried for quarter, the Flemish cheon in his hand!
count is slain. And as we looked on them, we thought of Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds beSeine's impurpled flood.
fore a Biscay gale; And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and with his blood;
flags, and clover mail, And we cried unto the living God, who rules And then we thought on vengeance, and all the fate of war,
along our van, To fight for His own holy name, and Henry of “Remember St. Bartholomew !” was passed Navarre.
from man to man;
But out spake gentle Henry; “No French- And many a lordly banner God gave them for man is my foe;
a prey; Down, down with every foreigner, but let But we of the Religion have borne us best in your brethren go.”
fight, Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friend. And the good lord of Rosny hath ta'en the corship or in war,
net white, As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the soldier Our own true Maximilian the cornet white of Navarre ?
The cornet white with crosses black, the flag Right well fought all the Frenchmen who
of false Lorraine. fought for France to-day,