As the night drew on they were surrounded in their dismal
retreat, so as to render escape impracticable. Thus situated,
their enemy "plied them with shot all the time, by which means
many were killed and buried in the mire." In the darkness and fog
that preceded the dawn of day some few broke through the
besiegers and escaped into the woods; "the rest were left to the
conquerors, of which many were killed in the swamp, like sullen
dogs who would rather, in their self-willedness and madness, sit
still and be shot through or cut to pieces" than implore for
mercy. When the day broke upon this handful of forlorn but
dauntless spirits, the soldiers, we are told, entering the swamp,
"saw several heaps of them sitting close together, upon whom they
discharged their pieces, laden with ten or twelve pistol bullets
at a time, putting the muzzles of the pieces under the boughs,
within a few yards of them; so as, besides those that were found
dead, many more were killed and sunk into the mire, and never
were minded more by friend or foe."
Can any one read this plain unvarnished tale without admiring the
stern resolution, the unbending pride, the loftiness of spirit
that seemed to nerve the hearts of these self-taught heroes and
to raise them above the instinctive feelings of human nature?
When the Gauls laid waste the city of Rome, they found the
senators clothed in their robes and seated with stern
tranquillity in their curule chairs; in this manner they suffered
death without resistance or even supplication.
Pages:
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445