Which his awakening footstep trod. Yet while the Austrians held their ground, There sounds not to the trump of fame Till you might see, with sudden grace, Tell where the bolt would strike, and how. But 'twas no sooner thought than done; As if his dearest friend to clasp; Ten spears he swept within his grasp; "Make way for liberty!" he cried; Their keen points crossed from side to side; And thus made way for liberty. And through the Austrian phalanx dart, As rushed the spears through Arnold's heart, While, instantaneous as his fall, Their haughty banner, trailed in dust, The neighing troop, the flashing blade, Those breasts that never more may feel Like the fierce northern hurricane That sweeps his great plateau, Full many a norther's breath has swept Sons of the Dark and Bloody Ground, Where stranger steps and tongues resound Your own proud land's heroic soil Shall be your fitter grave; She claims from War its richest spoil- Thus, 'neath their parent turf they rest, Borne to a Spartan mother's breast The sunshine of their native sky And kindred eyes and hearts watch by Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead! THE DEATH OF MARMION. With fruitless labor, Clara bound, A lady's voice was in his ear, And that the priest he could not hear For that she ever sung: "In the lost battle, borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle with groans of the dying!" So the notes rung. Avoid thee, friend: with cruel hand, Now trebly thundering, swelled the gale, And "Stanley!" was the cry; A light on Marmion's visage spread, Charge, Chester. charge! On, Stanley, on ;" SIR WALTER SCOTT. FROM ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT OF "MARMION." Still on the spot # f this common frase Land Marmien slaid For fairer scene he new survey of св л When satise with the martial show that peopled all the plain belar And mert the distant glow city glow The ey with gloomy splendowe red годени CONQUEST OF JERUSALEM BY THE CRUSADERS. ERUSALEM has derived some reputation from the number and importance of her memorable sieges. It was not till after a long and obstinate contest that Babylon and Rome could prevail against the obstinacy of the people, the craggy ground that might supersede the necessity of fortifications, and the walls and towers that would have fortified the most accessible plain. These obstacles were diminished in the age of the crusades. The bulwarks had been completely destroyed and imperfectly restored: the Jews, their nation and worship, were for ever banished; but nature is less changeable than man, and the site of Jerusalem, though somewhat softened and somewhat removed, was still strong against the assaults of an enemy. By the experience of a recent siege, and a three years' possession, the Saracens of Egypt had been taught to discern, and in some degree to remedy, the defects of a place which religion as well as honor forbade them to resign. Aladin or Iftikhar, the caliph's lieutenant, was intrusted with the defence; his policy strove to restrain the native Christians by the dread of their own ruin and that of the holy sepulchre; to animate the Moslems by the assurance of temporal and eternal rewards. His garrison is said to have consisted of forty thousand Turks and Arabians; and if he could muster twenty thousand of the inhabitants, it must be confessed that the besieged were more numer 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. EDWARD GIBBON. BY this, though deep the evening fell, Still rose the battle's deadly swell, For still the Scots, around their king, Unbroken, fought in desperate ring. Where's now their victor vanward wing, Where Huntly and where Home? Oh, for a blast of that dread horn, On Fontarabian echoes borne, Which to King Charles did come, When Rowland brave, and Oliver, And every paladin and peer On Roncesvalles died! Such blast might warn them, not in vain, While yet on Flodden side, Afar, the Royal Standard flies, And round it toils and bleeds, and dies In vain the wish, for, far away, But as they left the darkening heath, That fought around their king. Unbroken was the ring; The stubborn spearmen still made good No thought was there of dastard flight; Till utter darkness closed her wing Then did their loss his foemen know; When streams are swoln and south winds blow, |