The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1906-03-15
The Battle Of Fontenoy.

Thrice, at the heights OF Fontenoy the English
| column failed,
And twice the lines of Saint Antoine the Dutch
in vain assailed;
For town and slope were filled with fort and
thanking battery,
And we'll they swept the English ranks, and
Dutch auxiliary.
AS yainly through De Barri's wood the British
soldiers burst,
The French artillery drove them back, dim1n-
ished and dispered.
The bloody Duke of Cumberland beheld with
anxious eye,
And ordered up his last reserve his latest
chance to try.
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy how fast his gener-
ais ride!
And mastering come his chosen troops like
clouds at eventide.
Six thousand English veterans in stately COL
umn tread
Their cannon blaze in front and flank Lord
Hay is at their head:
Steady they step adown the slope-steady they
climb the hill; H.
Steady they load-steady they fire, moving
right onward still,
Betwixt the wood and Fontenoy, as through a
furnace blast
Through rampant, trench and palisade, and bull
let's showering fast;
And on the open plain above they rose and
kept their course,
With steady fire and grim resolve, that Knocked
at hostile force
Past Fontenoy, past Fontenoy, while thinner
grow their ranks
They break, as broke the zuyder Zee through
Hollands ocean banks
More idly than the summer flies, French tir-
allleurS rush around,
AS stubble to the lava tide, French suuadrons
strew the ground;
Bomb SHE'LL and grape, and round-shot tore,
still on they marched and fired
Fast from each volley grenadier and voltiguer
retired. .--
Push on, my household cavalry" King Louis
madly cried
To death they rush. but rude their shock-not
unavenged they died.
On through the camp the column trod-King
Louis turns his rein:
"Not yet, my iege' SAKE interposed, 1.-THE
Irish troops remain
And Fontenoy, famed Fontenoy, had been a
Waterloo
Were not these exiles ready then, fresh. vehe-
ment and true.- 49, t
Lord Clare he says, you have your wish,
there are your Saxon foes!''
The Marshal almost smiles to see so furiouslv
he goes
How fierce the look these exiles wear who are
wont to be so gay,
| The treasured wrongs of fifty years are in their
hearts today
The treaty broken ere the ink wherewith twas
writ could dry,
Their plundered homes, their ruined shrines,
their women's parting cry,
| Their priesthood hunted down like wolves their
country Overthrown-
| Each looks as if revenge for all was staked on
him alone.
| On Fontenoy on Fontenoy, nor ever yet else
! where
Rushed on to fight nobler band than these
proud exiles were. ...-
O'Brien's voice is hoarse with joy, as hating,
| he commands.
| Fix bayonets! Charger Like mountain
| storm rush on these fiery bands.
Thin is the English column now, and faint
| their volleys grow,
Yet, mastering all the strength they have, they
| make gallant show.
They dress their ranks upon the hill to face
that battlewind-
Their bayonets the breakers foam; like rocks
! the men behind!
| One volley crashes from their line, when
through the surging smoke.
With empty guns clutched in their hands, the
headlong Irish broke.
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, bark to that fierce
Revenge! remember Limerick! dash down
| the Sassanach.
Like lions leaping at fold, when mad with
hunger's pang.
Right up against the English line the Irish ex-
| lies sprang: @g
Bright was their steel-'tis bloody now; their
guns are filled with gore; ~:
Through shattered ranks, and severed files, and
trampled flags they tore:
The English strove with desperate strength
paused, rallied, staggered, fed
The green hillside is matted close with dying
| and with dead.
Across the plain. and far away, passed on thai
hideous wrack. -E...
While cavalier and fantassin dash in upor
their track.
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, like eagles in the
sun, - >4s>~
With bloody plumes the Irish stand-the tielt
is fought and won. THOMAS DAVIS.