Britons never will be slaves!
The nations not so blest as thee, Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall, Whilst thou shalt flourish, great and free, The dread and envy of them all.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never will be slaves!
Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that tears the skies, Serves but to root thy native oak.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never will be slaves!
Thee haughty tyrants ne"er shall tame; All their attempts to bend thee down Will but arouse thy generous flame, But work their woe and thy renown.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never will be slaves!
To thee belongs the rural reign; Thy cities shall with commerce shine; All thine shall be the subject main, And every sh.o.r.e it circles thine.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never will be slaves!
The Muses, still with freedom found, Shall to thy happy coast repair; Blest isle! with matchless beauty crown"d, And manly hearts to guard the fair.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never will be slaves!
XIX. THE FIRST CRUSADE.
DAVID HUME.--1711-1776.
_From_ HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
After Mahomet had, by means of his pretended revelations, united the dispersed Arabians under one head, they issued forth from their deserts in great mult.i.tudes; and being animated with zeal for their new religion, and supported by the vigor of their new government, they made deep impression on the eastern empire, which was far in the decline, with regard both to military discipline and to civil policy. Jerusalem, by its situation, became one of their most early conquests; and the Christians had the mortification to see the holy sepulchre, and the other places, consecrated by the presence of their religious founder, fallen into the possession of infidels. But the Arabians or Saracens were so employed in military enterprises, by which they spread their empire in a few years from the banks of the Ganges to the Straits of Gibraltar, that they had no leisure for theological controversy: and though the Alcoran, the original monument of their faith, seems to contain some violent precepts, they were much less infected with the spirit of bigotry and persecution than the indolent and speculative Greeks, who were continually refining on the several articles of their religious system. They gave little disturbance to those zealous pilgrims, who daily flocked to Jerusalem; and they allowed every man, after paying a moderate tribute, to visit the holy sepulchre, to perform his religious duties, and to return in peace. But the Turcomans or Turks, a tribe of Tartars, who had embraced Mahometanism, having wrested Syria from the Saracens, and having, in the year 1065, made themselves masters of Jerusalem, rendered the pilgrimage much more difficult and dangerous to the Christians. The barbarity of their manners, and the confusions attending their unsettled government, exposed the pilgrims to many insults, robberies, and extortions: and these zealots, returning from their meritorious fatigues and sufferings, filled all Christendom with indignation against the infidels, who profaned the holy city by their presence, and derided the sacred mysteries in the very place of their completion. Gregory VII., among the other vast ideas which he entertained, had formed the design of uniting all the Western Christians against the Mahometans; but the egregious and violent invasions of that pontiff on the civil power of princes, had created him so many enemies, and had rendered his schemes so suspicious, that he was not able to make great progress in this undertaking. The work was reserved for a meaner instrument, whose low condition in life exposed him to no jealousy, and whose folly was well calculated to coincide with the prevailing principles of the times.
Peter, commonly called the Hermit, a native of Amiens in Picardy, had made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Being deeply affected with the dangers to which that act of piety now exposed the pilgrims, as well as with the instances of oppression under which the Eastern Christians labored, he entertained the bold, and, in all appearance, impracticable project of leading into Asia, from the farthest extremities of the West, armies sufficient to subdue those potent and warlike nations which now held the holy city in subjection. He proposed his views to Martin II., who filled the papal chair, and who, though sensible of the advantages which the head of the Christian religion must reap from a religious war, and though he esteemed the blind zeal of Peter a proper means for effecting the purpose, resolved not to interpose his authority, till he saw a greater probability of success. He summoned a council at Placentia, which consisted of four thousand ecclesiastics, and thirty thousand seculars; and which was so numerous that no hall could contain the mult.i.tude, and it was necessary to hold the a.s.sembly in a plain. The harangues of the Pope, and of Peter himself, representing the dismal situation of their brethren in the East, and the indignity suffered by the Christian name, in allowing the holy city to remain in the hands of infidels, here found the minds of men so well prepared, that the whole mult.i.tude suddenly and violently declared for the war, and solemnly devoted themselves to perform this service, so meritorious, as they believed it, to G.o.d and religion.
But though Italy seemed thus to have zealously embraced the enterprise, Martin knew, that, in order to insure success, it was necessary to enlist the greater and more warlike nations in the same engagement; and having previously exhorted Peter to visit the chief cities and sovereigns of Christendom, he summoned another council at Clermont in Auvergne. The fame of this great and pious design being now universally diffused, procured the attendance of the greatest prelates, n.o.bles, and princes; and when the Pope and the Hermit renewed their pathetic exhortations, the whole a.s.sembly, as if impelled by an immediate inspiration, not moved by their preceding impressions, exclaimed with one voice, _It is the will of G.o.d, It is the will of G.o.d!_--words deemed so memorable, and so much the result of a divine influence, that they were employed as the signal of rendezvous and battle in all the future exploits of those adventurers. Men of all ranks flew to arms with the utmost ardor; and an exterior symbol, too, a circ.u.mstance of chief moment, was here chosen by the devoted combatants. The sign of the cross, which had been hitherto so much revered among Christians, and which, the more it was an object of reproach among the Pagan world, was the more pa.s.sionately cherished by them, became the badge of union, and was affixed to their right shoulder, by all who enlisted themselves in this sacred warfare.
Europe was at this time sunk into profound ignorance and superst.i.tion.
The ecclesiastics had acquired the greatest ascendant over the human mind: the people, who, being little restrained by honor, and less by law, abandoned themselves to the worst crimes and disorders, knew of no other expiation than the observances imposed on them by their spiritual pastors: and it was easy to represent the holy war as an equivalent for all penances, and an atonement for every violation of justice and humanity. But amidst the abject superst.i.tion which now prevailed, the military spirit also had universally diffused itself; and though not supported by art or discipline, was become the general pa.s.sion of the nations governed by the feudal law. All the great lords possessed the right of peace and war: they were engaged in perpetual hostilities with each other: the open country was become a scene of outrage and disorder: the cities, still mean and poor, were neither guarded by walls nor protected by privileges, and were exposed to every insult: individuals were obliged to depend for safety on their own force, or their private alliances: and valor was the only excellence which was held in esteem, or gave one man the pre-eminence above another. When all the particular superst.i.tions, therefore, were here united in one great object, the ardor for military enterprises took the same direction; and Europe, impelled by its two ruling pa.s.sions, was loosened, as it were, from its foundations, and seemed to precipitate itself in one united body upon the East.
All orders of men, deeming the Crusades the only road to heaven, enlisted themselves under these sacred banners, and were impatient to open the way with their sword to the holy city. n.o.bles, artisans, peasants, even priests, enrolled their names; and to decline this meritorious service was branded with the reproach of impiety, or, what perhaps was esteemed still more disgraceful, of cowardice and pusillanimity. The infirm and aged contributed to the expedition by presents and money; and many of them, not satisfied with the merit of this atonement, attended it in person, and were determined, if possible, to breathe their last in sight of that city where their Saviour had died for them. Women themselves, concealing their s.e.x under the disguise of armor, attended the camp. The greatest criminals were forward in a service, which they regarded as a propitiation for all crimes; and the most enormous disorders were, during the course of those expeditions, committed by men enured to wickedness, encouraged by example, and impelled by necessity. The mult.i.tude of the adventurers soon became so great, that their more sagacious leaders, Hugh count of Vermandois, brother to the French king, Raymond count of Toulouse, G.o.dfrey of Bouillon, prince of Brabant, and Stephen count of Blois, became apprehensive lest the greatness itself of the armament should disappoint its purpose; and they permitted an undisciplined mult.i.tude, computed at 300,000 men, to go before them, under the command of Peter the Hermit and Walter the Moneyless. These men took the road towards Constantinople through Hungary and Bulgaria; and trusting that Heaven, by supernatural a.s.sistance, would supply all their necessities, they made no provision for subsistance on their march. They soon found themselves obliged to obtain by plunder, what they had vainly expected from miracles; and the enraged inhabitants of the countries through which they pa.s.sed, gathering together in arms, attacked the disorderly mult.i.tude and put them to slaughter without resistance. The more disciplined armies followed after; and pa.s.sing the straights at Constantinople, they were mustered in the plains of Asia, and amounted in the whole to the number of 700,000 combatants....
After the adventurers in the holy war were a.s.sembled on the banks of the Bosphorus, opposite to Constantinople, they proceeded on their enterprise; but immediately experienced those difficulties which their zeal had hitherto concealed from them, and for which, even if they had foreseen them, it would have been almost impossible to provide a remedy.
The Greek emperor, Alexis Comnenus, who had applied to the Western Christians for succor against the Turks, entertained hopes, and those but feeble ones, of obtaining such a moderate supply, as, acting under his command, might enable him to repulse the enemy: but he was extremely astonished to see his dominions overwhelmed, on a sudden, by such an inundation of licentious barbarians, who, though they pretended friendship, despised his subjects as unwarlike, and detested them as heretical. By all the arts of policy, in which he excelled, he endeavored to divert the torrent; but while he employed professions, caresses, civilities, and seeming services towards the leaders of the crusade, he secretly regarded those imperious allies as more dangerous than the open enemies by whom his empire had been formerly invaded.
Having effected that difficult point of disembarking them safely in Asia, he entered into a private correspondence with Soliman, emperor of the Turks; and practised every insidious art, which his genius, his power, or his situation, enabled him to employ, for disappointing the enterprise, and discouraging the Latins from making thenceforward any such prodigious migrations. His dangerous policy was seconded by the disorders inseparable from so vast a mult.i.tude, who were not united under one head, and were conducted by leaders of the most independent intractable spirit, unacquainted with military discipline, and determined enemies to civil authority and submission. The scarcity of provisions, the excesses of fatigue, the influence of unknown climates, joined to the want of concert in their operations, and to the sword of a warlike enemy, destroyed the adventurers by thousands, and would have abated the ardor of men impelled to war by less powerful motives. Their zeal, however, their bravery, and their irresistible force, still carried them forward, and continually advanced them to the great end of their enterprise. After an obstinate siege they took Nice, the seat of the Turkish empire; they defeated Soliman in two great battles; they made themselves masters of Antioch; and entirely broke the force of the Turks, who had so long retained those countries in subjection. The soldan of Egypt, whose alliance they had hitherto courted, recovered, on the fall of the Turkish power, his former authority in Jerusalem; and he informed them by his amba.s.sadors, that if they came disarmed to that city, they might now perform their religious vows, and that all Christian pilgrims, who should thenceforth visit the holy sepulchre, might expect the same good treatment which they had ever received from his predecessors. The offer was rejected; the soldan was required to yield up the city to the Christians; and on his refusal, the champions of the cross advanced to the siege of Jerusalem, which they regarded as the consummation of their labors. By the detachments which they had made, and the disasters which they had undergone, they were diminished to the number of twenty thousand foot, and fifteen hundred horse; but these were still formidable, from their valor, their experience, and the obedience which, from past calamities, they had learned to pay to their leaders. After a siege of five weeks, they took Jerusalem by a.s.sault; and, impelled by a mixture of military and religious rage, they put the numerous garrison and inhabitants to the sword without distinction.
Neither arms defended the valiant, nor submission the timorous: no age or s.e.x was spared: infants on the breast were pierced by the same blow with their mothers, who implored for mercy: even a mult.i.tude to the number of ten thousand persons, who had surrendered themselves prisoners, and were promised quarter, were butchered in cold blood by those ferocious conquerors. The streets of Jerusalem were covered with dead bodies; and the triumphant warriors, after every enemy was subdued and slaughtered, immediately turned themselves, with the sentiments of humiliation and contrition, towards the holy sepulchre. They threw aside their arms, still streaming with blood: they advanced with reclined bodies, and naked feet and heads, to that sacred monument: they sang anthems to their Saviour, who had there purchased their salvation by his death and agony: and their devotion, enlivened by the presence of the place where he had suffered, so overcame their fury, that they dissolved in tears, and bore the appearance of every soft and tender sentiment. So inconsistent is human nature with itself! and so easily does the most effeminate superst.i.tion ally, both with the most heroic courage and with the fiercest barbarity!
This great event happened on the fifth of July in the last year of the eleventh century. The Christian princes and n.o.bles, after choosing G.o.dfrey of Bouillon king of Jerusalem, began to settle themselves in their new conquests; while some of them returned to Europe, in order to enjoy at home that glory, which their valor had acquired them in this popular and meritorious enterprise.
XX. THE BARD.
_A Pindaric Ode._[D]
THOMAS GRAY.--1716-1771.
I. 1.
"Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!
Confusion on thy banners wait; Though fann"d by Conquest"s crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state.
Helm, nor hauberk"s twisted mail, Nor e"en thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, From Cambria"s curse, from Cambria"s tears!"
Such were the sounds that o"er the crested pride Of the first Edward scatter"d wild dismay, As down the steep of Snowdon"s s.h.a.ggy side He wound with toilsome march his long array.
Stout Glo"ster stood aghast in speechless trance: "To arms!" cried Mortimer, and couch"d his quivering lance.
I. 2.
On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o"er old Conway"s foaming flood, Rob"d in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the Poet stood; (Loose his beard, and h.o.a.ry hair Stream"d, like a meteor, to the troubled air), And with a master"s hand, and prophet"s fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
"Hark, how each giant-oak, and desert cave, Sighs to the torrent"s awful voice beneath!
O"er thee, O King! their hundred arms they wave, Revenge on thee in hoa.r.s.er murmurs breathe; Vocal no more, since Cambria"s fatal day, To high-born Hoel"s harp, or soft Llewellyn"s lay.
I. 3.
"Cold is Cadwallo"s tongue, That hush"d the stormy main: Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed: Mountains, ye mourn in vain Modred, whose magic song Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topt head.
On dreary Arvon"s sh.o.r.e they lie, Smear"d with gore, and ghastly pale: Far, far aloof the affrighted ravens sail; The famish"d eagle screams, and pa.s.ses by.
Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, Dear, as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country"s cries-- No more I weep. They do not sleep.
On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, I see them sit; they linger yet, Avengers of their native land: With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with b.l.o.o.d.y hands the tissue of thy line.
II. 1.
"Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward"s race.
Give ample room, and verge enough The characters of h.e.l.l to trace.
Mark the year, and mark the night, When Severn shall re-echo with affright The shrieks of death, through Berkley"s roof that ring, Shrieks of an agonizing king!
She-wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs, That tear"st the bowels of thy mangled mate, From thee be born, who o"er thy country hangs The scourge of heaven. What terrors round him wait!
Amazement in his van, with flight combin"d, And Sorrow"s faded form, and Solitude behind.
II. 2.
"Mighty victor, mighty lord!
Low on his funeral couch he lies!
No pitying heart, no eye, afford A tear to grace his obsequies.
Is the sable warrior fled?