# The Siege of Valencia; The Last Constantine: with Other Poems/Song of the Battle of Morgarten

SONG
OF
THE BATTLE OF MORGARTEN.
"In the year 1315, Switzerland was invaded by Duke Leopold of Austria, with a formidable army. It is well attested, that this prince repeatedly declared he 'would trample the audacious rustics under his feet;' and that he had procured a large stock of cordage, for the purpose of binding their chiefs, and putting them to death.
"The 15th October, 1315, dawned. The sun darted its first rays on the shields and armour of the advancing host; and this being the first army ever known to have attempted the frontiers of the cantons, the Swiss viewed its long line with various emotions. Montfort de Tettnang led the cavalry into the narrow pass, and soon filled the whole space between the mountain (Mount Sattel) and the lake. The fifty men on the eminence (above Morgarten) raised a sudden shout, and rolled down heaps of rocks and stones among the crowded ranks. The confederates on the mountain, perceiving the impression made by this attack, rushed down in close array, and fell upon the flank of the disordered column. With massy clubs they dashed in pieces the armour of the enemy, and dealt their blows and thrusts with long pikes. The narrowness of the defile admitted of no evolutions, and a slight frost having injured the road, the horses were impeded in all their motions; many leaped into the lake; all were startled; and at last the whole column gave way, and fell suddenly back on the infantry; and these last, as the nature of the country did not allow them to open their files, were run over by the
fugitives, and many of them trampled to death. A general rout ensued, and Duke Leopold was, with much difficulty, rescued by a peasant, who led him to Winterthur, where the historian of the times saw him arrive in the evening, pale, sullen, and dismayed."—Planta's History of the Helvetic Confederacy.
The wine-month* shone in its golden prime,  And the red grapes clustering hung, But a deeper sound, through the Switzer's clime,  Than the vintage-music, rung.  A sound, through vaulted cave,  A sound, through echoing glen,  Like the hollow swell of a rushing wave;  —'Twas the tread of steel-girt men.
And a trumpet, pealing wild and far,  Midst the ancient rocks was blown, Till the Alps replied to that voice of war,  With a thousand of their own.  And through the forest glooms  Flash'd helmets to the day,  And the winds were tossing knightly plumes,  Like the larch-boughs in their play.
In Hasli's* wilds there was gleaming steel,  As the host of the Austrian pass'd; And the Schreckhorn's† rocks, with a savage peal,  Made mirth of his clarion's blast.  Up midst the Righi‡ snows  The stormy march was heard,  With the charger's tramp, whence fire-sparks rose,  And the leader's gathering word.
But a band, the noblest band of all,  Through the rude Morgarten strait, With blazon'd streamers, and lances tall,  Moved onwards, in princely state.  They came, with heavy chains,  For the race despis'd so long—  —But amidst his Alp-domains,  The herdsman's arm is strong!
The sun was reddening the clouds of morn  When they enter'd the rock-defile, And shrill as a joyous hunter's horn  Their bugles rung the while.
But on the misty height,  Where the mountain-people stood,  There was stillness, as of night,  When storms at distance brood.
There was stillness, as of deep dead night,  And a pause—but not of fear, While the Switzers gaz'd on the gathering might  Of the hostile shield and spear.  On wound those columns bright  Between the lake and wood,  But they look'd not to the misty height  Where the mountain-people stood.
The pass was fill'd with their serried power,  All helm'd and mail-array'd, And their steps had sounds like a thunder-shower  In the rustling forest-shade.  There were prince and crested knight,  Hemm'd in by cliff and flood,  When a shout arose from the misty height  Where the mountain-people stood.
And the mighty rocks came bounding down,  Their startled foes among,
With a joyous whirl from the summit thrown—  —Oh! the herdsman's arm is strong!  They came, like lauwine* hurl'd  From Alp to Alp in play,  When the echoes shout through the snowy world,  And the pines are borne away.
The fir-woods crash'd on the mountain-side,  And the Switzers rush'd from high, With a sudden charge, on the flower and pride  Of the Austrian chivalry:  Like hunters of the deer,  They storm'd the narrow dell,  And first in the shock, with Uri's spear,  Was the arm of William Tell†
There was tumult in the crowded strait,  And a cry of wild dismay, And many a warrior met his fate  From a peasant's hand that day!
And the empire's banner then,  From its place of waving free,  Went down before the shepherd-men,  The men of the Forest-sea*.
With their pikes and massy clubs they brake  The cuirass and the shield, And the war-horse dash'd to the reddening lake,  From the reapers of the field!  The field—but not of sheaves—  Proud crests and pennons lay,  Strewn o'er it thick as the birch-wood leaves,  In the autumn-tempest's way.
Oh! the sun in heaven fierce havoc view'd,  When the Austrian turn'd to fly, And the brave, in the trampling multitude,  Had a fearful death to die!  And the leader of the war  At eve unhelm'd was seen,  With a hurrying step on the wilds afar,  And a pale and troubled mien.
But the sons of the land which the freeman tills,  Went back from the battle-toil, To their cabin homes midst the deep green hills,  All burden'd with royal spoil.  There were songs and festal fires  On the soaring Alps that night,  When children sprung to greet their sires,  From the wild Morgarten fight.
* ↑ *Wine-month—the German name for October.
* ↑ *Hasli, a wild district in the canton of Berne.
* ↑ †Schreckhorn, the peak of terror, a mountain in the canton of Berne.
* ↑ ‡Righi, a mountain in the canton of Schwytz.
* ↑ *Lauwine, the Swiss name for the avalanche.
* ↑ †William Tell's name is particularly mentioned amongst the confederates at Morgarten.
* ↑ *Forest-sea, the lake of the four cantons is also so called.