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THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH.*
'TWAS when among our linden-trees
The bees had housed in swarms,
(And gray-hair'd peasants say that these
Betoken foreign arms,)

Then look'd we down to Willisow,
The land was all in flame;
We knew the Archduke Leopold
With all his army came.

The Austrian nobles made their vow,
So hot their heart and bold,
"On Switzer carles we'll trample now,
And slay both young and old."
With clarion loud, and banner proud,
From Zurich on the lake,
In martial pomp and fair array,

Their onward march they make.
"Now list, ye lowland nobles all-
Ye seek the mountain strand,
Nor wot ye what shall be your lot
In such a dangerous land.

"I rede ye, shrive ye of your sins, Before ye farther go;

A skirmish in Helvetian hills

May send your souls to wo."-
"But where now shall we find a priest
Our shrift that he may hear ?"-
"The Switzer priestt has ta'en the field,
He deals a penance drear.
"Right heavily upon your head
He'll lay his hand of steel;
And with his trusty partisan
Your absolution deal."-
'Twas on a Monday morning then,
The corn was steep'd in dew,
And merry maids had sickles ta'en,
When the host to Sempach drew.
The stalwart men of fair Lucerne
Together have they join'd;
The pith and core of manhood stern,
Was none cast looks behind.

It was the Lord of Hare-castle,
And to the Duke he said,
"Yon little band of brethren true
Will meet us undismay'd."-

"O Hare-castle, thou heart of hare!"
Fierce Oxenstern replied.-

"Shalt see then how the game will fare,"
The taunted knight replied.

There was lacing then of helmets bright,
And closing ranks amain;

The peaks they hew'd from their boot-points
Might well-nigh load a wain.§

And thus they to each other said,
"Yon handful down to hew

Will be no boastful tale to tell,
The peasants are so few."-

The gallant Swiss Confederates there
They pray'd to God aloud,
And he display'd his rainbow fair
Against a swarthy cloud.

Then heart and pulse throbb'd more and more
With courage firm and high,

And down the good Confed'rates
On the Austrian chivalry.

The Austrian Lion 'gan to growl,
And toss his mane and tail;

bore

And ball, and shaft, and crossbow bolt,
Went whistling forth like hail.

[This translation first appeared in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine for February, 1818.-Ed.]

All the Swiss clergy who were able to bear arms fought in this patriotic war.

In the original, Haasenstein, or Hare-stone.

This seems to allude to the preposterous fashion, during the middle ages, of wearing boots with the points or peaks turned upwards, and so long, that in some cases they were fastened to the

Lance, pike, and halbert, mingled there,
The game was nothing sweet;
The boughs of many a stately tree
Lay shiver'd at their feet.

The Austrian men-at-arms stood fast,
So close their spears they laid;
It chafed the gallant Winkelreid,
Who to his comrades said-

"I have a virtuous wife at home,
A wife and infant son;

I leave them to my country's care,-
This field shall soon be won.

"These nobles lay their spears right thick, And keep full firm array,

Yet shall my charge their order break,
And make my brethren way.'

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He rush'd against the Austrian band,
In desperate career,

And with his body, breast, and hand,
Bore down each hostile spear.

Four lances splinter'd on his crest,
Six shiver'd in his side;

Still on the serried files he press'd-
He broke their ranks, and died.

This patriot's self-devoted deed

First tamed the Lion's mood,
And the four forest cantons freed
From thraldom by his blood.

Right where his charge had made a lane,
His valiant comrades burst,
With sword, and axe, and partisan,

And hack, and stab, and thrust.
The daunted Lion 'gan to whine,

And granted ground amain,

The Mountain BullT he bent his brows,
And gored his sides again.

Then lost was banner, spear, and shield,
At Sempach in the flight,

The cloister vaults at Konig'sfield
Hold many an Austrian knight.

It was the Archduke Leopold,

So lordly would he ride,

But he came against the Switzer churls,
And they slew him in his pride.

The heifer said unto the bull,
"And shall I not complain?
There came a foreign nobleman
To milk me on the plain.

"One thrust of thine outrageous horn
Has gall'd the knight so sore,
That to the churchyard he is borne
To range our glens no more."
An Austrian noble left the stour,
And fast the flight 'gan take;
And he arrived in luckless hour
At Sempach on the lake.

He and his squire a fisher call'd,
(His name was Hans Von Rot,)
"For love, or meed, or charity,

Receive us in thy boat!"

Their anxious call the fisher heard,
And, glad the meed to win,
His shallop to the shore he steer'd,
And took the flyers in.

And while against the tide and wind
Hans stoutly row'd his way,
The noble to his follower sign'd

He should the boatman slay.

knees of the wearer with small chains. When they alighted to fight upon foot, it would seem that the Austrian gentlemen found it necessary to cut off these peaks, that they might move with the

necessary activity.

A pun on the Archduke's name, Leopold. A pun on the URUS, or wild bull, which gives name to the Canton of Uri.

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THE original of these verses occurs in a collection of German popular songs, entitled, Sammlung Deutschen Volkslieder, Berlin, 1807, published by Messrs. Busching and Von der Hagen, both, and more especially the last, distinguished for their acquaintance with the ancient popular poetry and legendary history of Germany.

In the German Editor's notice of the ballad, it is stated to have been extracted from a manuscript Chronicle of Nicolaus Thomann, chaplain to Saint Leonard in Weisenhorn, which bears the date 1533; and the song is stated by the author to have been generally sung in the neighbourhood at that early period. Thomann, as quoted by the German editor, seems faithfully to have believed the event he narrates. He quotes tombstones and obituaries to prove the existence of the personages of the ballad, and discovers that there actually died, on the 11th of May, 1349, a Lady Von Neuffen, Countess of Marstetten, who was, by birth, of the house of Moringer. This lady he supposes to have been Moringer's daughter, mentioned in the ballad. He quotes the same authority for the death of Berckhold Von Neuffen, in the same year. The editors, on the whole, Seem to embrace the opinion of Professor Smith of Ulm, who from the language of the ballad, ascribes its date to the 15th century.

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seven years shalt thou rule my towers, and lead my vassal train,

pledge thee for my Lady's faith till I return again."

VIII.

Chamberlain was blunt and true, and sturdily

said he,

Abide, my lord, and rule your own, and take this rede from me;

That

The legend itself turns on an incident not peculiar to Germany, and which, perhaps, was not unlikely to happen in more instances than one, when crusaders abode long in the Holy Land, and their disconsolate dames received no tidings of their fate. A story very similar in circumstances, but without the I'll miraculous machinery of Saint Thomas, is told of one of the ancient lords of Haigh-hall in Lancashire, the patrimonial inheritance of the late Countess of Balcarras; and the particulars are represented on stained glass upon a window in that ancient manor-house.*

The translation of the Noble Moringer appeared originally in the Edinburgh Annual Register for 1916, (published in 1819.) It was composed during Sir Walter Scott's severe and alarming llness of April, 1819, and dictated, in the intervals of exquisite

The

His

woman's faith's a brittle trust-Seven twelve

months didst thou say?

pledge me for no lady's truth beyond the seventh fair day."

IX.

noble Baron turn'd him round, his heart was full of care,

gallant Esquire stood him nigh, he was Mar-
stetten's heir,

pain, to his daughter Sophia, and his friend William Laidlaw,—
ED.]
(See Introduction to "The Betrothed," Waverley Novels, vol.
vi. this edition.]

To whom he spoke right anxiously, "Thou trusty | He waked in fair Bohemian land outstretch'd beside squire to me,

Wilt thou receive this weighty trust when I am o'er the sea?

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a rill,

High on the right a castle stood, low on the left a mill.

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It was the noble Moringer to climb the hill began, And stood before the bolted gate a wo and weary

And whisper'd in his ear a voice, "'Tis time, Sir"
Knight, to wake,

Thy lady and thy heritage another master take.

XV.

"Thy tower another banner knows, thy steeds

another rein,

And stoop them to another's will thy gallant vassal

train;

And she, the Lady of thy love, so faithful once and fair,

This night within thy father's hall she weds Mar

stetten's heir.'

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man;

Now help me, every saint in heaven that can compassion take,

To gain the entrance of my hall this woful match to break."

XXIV.

His very knock it sounded sad, his call was sad and slow,

For heart and head, and voice and hand, were heaAnd to the warder thus he spoke: "Friend, to thy vy all with wo; pilgrim from Saint Thomas' land craves harbour Lady say, for a day.

A

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It was the stalwart warder then he came his dame before,

"A pilgrim, worn and travel-toil'd, stands at the castle door:

And prays, for sweet Saint Thomas' sake, for harbour and for dole,

And for the sake of Moringer, thy noble husband's soul."

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SONGS

THE NORMAN HORSESHOE.

AIR-The War-Song of the Men of Glamorgan.

The Welsh, inhabiting a mountainous country, and possessing only an inferior breed of horses, were usually unable to encounter the shock of the Anglo-Norman cavalry. Occasionally, however, they were successful in repelling the invaders; and the following verses are supposed to celebrate a defeat of CLARE, Earl of Striguil and Pembroke, and of NEVILLE, Baron of Chepstow, Lords-Marchers of Monmouthshire. Rymny is a stream which divides the counties of Monmouth and Glamorgan: Caerphili, the scene of the supposed battle, is a vale upon its banks, dignified by the ruins of a very ancient castle.

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