The Poets and Poetry of Cecil County, Maryland Part 42

Tancred was the son of the Marquis of Odo, surnamed the good, and Emma, the sister of Robert Guiscard who figured conspicuously in the wars which distracted Europe just previous to the first Crusade, which occurred under the leaders.h.i.+p of Peter, the Hermit, and Walter, the Penniless, in A.D. 1096. The scene of the drama is laid at Antioch in 1097. A historian of the Crusades in speaking of the siege of Antioch, says that the wealth of the harvest and the vintage spread before them its irresistible temptations, and the herds feeding in the rich pastures seemed to promise an endless feast. The cattle, the corn and the wine were alike wasted with besotted folly, while the Turks within the walls received tidings of all that pa.s.sed in the crusading camps from some Greek and Armenian christians to whom they allowed free egress and ingress. Of this knowledge they availed themselves in planing sallies by which they caused great distress to the Crusaders. The following extract comprises the third scene of the first act and is laid in the camp of the Crusaders--the chiefs being in council.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

_G.o.dfrey_ of Bouillon, Duke of Lorraine.

_Alexius_, Emperor of Greece.

_Bohemond_, Prince of Tarentum.

_Tancred_.

_Raymond_, Count of Thoulouse.

Alex.

The truce being ended, I propose, my friends, To-morrow we should storm the walls of Antioch-- What say my worthy allies?--

Boh.

If any here so base and cowardly, As to give other counsel, let him speak.--

Ray.

I have known those, who foremost to advise, Were yet the last to venture on the battle.--

Boh.

What means the Count of Thoulouse?--

Ray. Simply this;-- That some men thoughtlessly sit down to eat, Without having first obtained an appet.i.te.--

Boh.

By the Holy Sepulchre I swear, That knight must have some stomach who maintains, What you have just now utter'd--

[Throws down his gauntlet.]

There lays my guage-- If you will wear my glove, choose with what arms We shall decide this quarrel.--

[Raymond advances to take up the glove.]

G.o.d.

Hold, Thoulouse, let it lay.-- I do impeach Bohemond of Tarentum of base wiles, And treachery most foul, to knighthood's cause--

Boh.

Why then take you the glove.--

G.o.d.

In mine own cause I do accept the challenge.--

[Takes up the glove.]

Alex.

Is our league dissolv'd, and shall the holy cause For which embattled Europe is in arms, Be idly given to the scorn of men, To gratify our pa.s.sions and vile feuds?-- But speak Lorraine, for you have heretofore Been held the mediator in these jars-- Upon what quarrel do you thus arraign Bohemond of Tarentum?--

G.o.d.

A gorgeous canopy, a present from The gov'nor of Armenia I have lost-- By what base means, Bohemond best can tell.--

Boh.

True he can tell--and briefly thus it is-- I won the silken bauble in a fight, And claim it as my spoil.--

G.o.d.

You basely stole The treasure of a friend--Pancrates had The conduct of the present to my camp; You coward-like surprised him on the way, And robb'd him of my prize.--

Boh. (Contemptuously) Well be it so-- I stole it, and will keep it-- You may keep the glove.--

Alex.

Christians, forbear, the Infidels will laugh, To know a silken toy has broke our league, And sav'd the Sepulchre--It must not be, My friends, that private discord shall cut short The work we have begun--Bohemond, no-- Restore the treasure to its rightful Lord, And my pavilion shall replace the spoil.--

Boh.

I do consent--provided G.o.dfrey will Return my glove to the brave Count of Thoulouse--

Alex.

That's n.o.bly done Bohemond--but the war 'Twixt you and Thoulouse, is a war of words-- Like two pert game c.o.c.ks picking at a straw, You doubt each other's courage--then make proof Upon the Paynim forces if you please, Which is the braver man--To-morrow's field Will afford ample scope to try your blades Upon the common enemy of each, And leave unscathed his ally--I propose, That he who first shall scale the citadel, And plant the Red-Cross banner on the walls, Shall be rewarded with the victor's prize, And hold the government of Antioch-- What says the council?--

All the Chiefs.

We are all agreed.--

(Bohemond and Raymond advance and shake hands in apparent token of agreement.)

[Enter a Greek Messenger.]

Mes.

The Persian succors are but one day's march, Beyond the Orontes.--

G.o.d.

Why let them come and help to bury then, Their Paynim brothers.--Friends, I give you joy-- Curse on my fortune, I do much regret The iv'ry tushes of that ruthless boar, Will keep me from the contest for fair fame.-- Bohemond, you shall lead my Frisons on-- And doubt not but you'll win the prize from Thoulouse.--

Boh.

I thank your grace.

ZEBULON RUDULPH.

Zebulon Rudulph was the second son of Tobias Rudulph, an account of whose family is given elsewhere in this volume. He was born in Elkton, June 28, 1794. Though well remembered by some of the older residents of the place of his nativity who knew him when they were young, but little is known of his early life except that he was possessed of a kind heart and an affable disposition; and appears to have been more given to the cultivation of his literary tastes, than to the practice of those utilitarian traits which had they been more highly developed, would have enabled him to have reaped a richer pecuniary harvest than fell to his lot from the cultivation of the others.

For a time in early manhood Mr. Rudulph was engaged in merchandising in Elkton, and subsequently became the first agent of the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore Railroad Company in that town, which office he held from the time the company commenced business in 1837, until 1840 or '41, when he removed to Memphis, Tennessee, where in 1847 he published a small volume of 247 pages ent.i.tled "Every Man's Book; or, the Road to Heaven Staked Out; being a Collection of Holy Proofs Alphabetically Arranged as a Text Book for Preachers and Laymen of all Denominations."

Mr. Rudulph was a Universalist, and the object of the book was to inculcate the tenets of that denomination.

Mr. Rudulph remained in Memphis for a few years and subsequently removed to Izard county, Arkansas, where he died a short time before the commencement of the war of the rebellion. He was a voluminous writer, and the author of a large number of fugitive poems, many of which are said to have been quite humorous and possessed of much literary merit.

Very few of his poems have been preserved, which is much regretted for the reason that it is highly probable that those extant do not fully set forth the poetical ability of their author. The following poems except the one ent.i.tled "Thoughts on the Death of his grandchild f.a.n.n.y," were published in _The Elkton Courier_ nearly half a century ago.