Poems (Waldenburg)/The Battle of Bennington
THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON.
1777 1877'Twas the eve of that glorious battle morn,On Vermont's green mountains, in splendor born!Down from the frowning clouds, the rainIn torrents fell over hill and plain;It bent the trees, and the golden grain,Beating the roof and the window pane,While the lightning danced on the mountains farAnd the thunder boomed like the guns of war!
Crowning a hill in Bennington town,Stood a low-browed tavern, broad and brown,With a novel sign, whose like I ween In book of heraldry ne'er was seen:'Twas a catamount, swung from a sapling slightLooking alive, as its teeth gleamed white!When the light from the lonely lantern flaredAt the open doorway, its wild eyes glared,And it seemed through the gloom, to keep its watchThe Hessian or "Yorker" foe, to catch!Within the inn from the candles tall,A soft light shone o'er the rooms and hall;And lingered in many a silvery line,On the carven wainscot of native pine;On the musket, and pictures upon the wall,O'er the white haired landlord, grave and tall,On the stalwart forms, that were moving there,With speech and counsel, oath and prayer.Here the "Council of Safety" held their court,Sentenced the "Tories," with session short;And framed the laws with a loyal zealEnforced with the stamp of the famed "Beech seal,"Vermont's brave sons undaunted, trueAs the emerald hills before their view!Allen the fearless, rough, unmoved;Warner the Ranger's colonel loved;Robinson, Chittenden, Baker, Fay,Dewey, Fassett, and such as theyWhose names are written with deathless pen,On the roll of heroes, revered by men! On this August night mid rain and gloom,There was gathered within the council room,An eager, anxious and earnest crowd;Who with nervous gestures and voices loud,With solemn purpose and steady plan,Arranged for the battle, man with man,And were restless for morning's light to breakTo war for right and their country's sake.They would live in freedom from king and crown,Or would lay their lives with the foeman down;They ask no congress for right to move,But would follow their leaders brave, through love.Then with parting word, for the night was spent,To their homes, or the distant camp they went.
Bright rose the morning's sun serene,No lingerings of the storm were seen.The meadows wore a brighter green,The swollen river shone between,And proudly rose the mountains far,On nature's face no frown of war.Then lo! From out the forests still,With stately march and sturdy will,The gallant columns moved apace,Toward the "Heights" looked every face!They came from forge, from shop, from farm;The "Parson" with his gospel armUpraised, was eager for the fight,Strong in his faith for God, and right, Ranger and volunteer, as one,Gathered beneath that August sun,Ununiformed, untried, yet brave,They knew their power to fight and save!
The miry road they wound along,And every mile they grew more strong,'Till soon the foe with colors bright,Stood grouped before their waiting sight.Brave Stark commanding called aloudUnto his little army, proud.—"The red-coats! See!!—We win this fightElse Molly Stark this very nightMust sleep a widow!"—Then to viewThe foe's defences burst, clear throughThe stubborn outworks, on they prest,From northern wing, and from the west;While from the British breastworks pouredThe Hessian fire. The cannon roared;The line it wavered, comrades fell,Still pushed they bravely on, and well,Heedless of hail from rattling shot,Or blistered hand from rifle hot;They rushed and leaped o'er parapet,And charged with butt and bayonet.Wearied and hungry, wounded sore,With throbbing brows and stained with gore,They held their posts 'till the fight was done, The foe was routed, the battle won,While the rays of the setting sun were shedO'er a smoking plain, with its pallid dead,And the twilight shadows reached down uponThe victory field of Bennington!
In Paris proud, 'neath a golden dome,Where wondering pilgrims ever come;'Neath massive marble and sculptured stoneIs gathered the dust of Napoleon!There's a legend told that a mighty host,Shadowy, ghostly, to vision lost,Paces ever the tomb, before,In tattered garments streaked with gore;Who, pallid and wounded keep watch and ward.'Tis the band of the emperor's famous Guard!They wait his rising, who sleeps below,To follow his form through heat, or snow,'Till he lead to glory and victory;And they wait the day and hour to be!
No shadowy, ghostly guard have wePacing before dead royalty;But giant forms that to-day we seeUprise in their glorious history!Oh ye with the clear eyed sight of seersWho glanced o'er the wid'ning space of years And saw a Form whose radiance brightFlooded the western world with light,Oh soldiers brave of those mighty daysWhom we crown with a century's crown of bays,Keep ye your vigils over our land,O'er valley and mountain, river and strand!In rain or sunshine, calm or storm,Guard ye this beauteous living form,Warm with the youth of her hundred years,With her pulsing heart and her shining tears.Oh watch our Land in her strength and pride,Ye love her fondly and for her died!So lead her upward, thy guard ne'er ceaseTill she enter the endless years of Peace!