They tell me love’s a transient flame,
Just kept alive by beauty’s ray,
As fleeting as the breath of fame,
Which meets the ear, then dies away.
But if to beauty sense be join’d,
Secure the hallow’d flame shall rest,
Tho’ time, and fell disease, combin’d,
Assay to force it from the breast:
As we then tread the vale of life,
Our souls in unison shall move,
Who most can please be all our strife,
And rivet thus the chains of love.
NEW-YORK: _+Printed by JOHN BULL, No. 115, Cherry-Street+, where every
Kind of Printing work is executed with the utmost Accuracy and
Dispatch.--+Subscriptions+ for this +Magazine+ (at 2s. per month) are
taken in at the Printing-Office, and by E. MITCHELL, Bookseller, No. 9,
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_UTILE DULCI._
THE NEW-YORK WEEKLY MAGAZINE;
or, Miscellaneous Repository.
+Vol. II.+] +Wednesday, December 7, 1796.+ [+No. 75.+
+Extraordinary Intrepidity of the Jomsburgians.+
History informs us, that Harold, surnamed Blaatand, or Blue Tooth,
(a king of Denmark, who reigned in the middle of the tenth century) had
founded on the coast of Pomerania, which he had subdued, a city named
Julin or Jomsburg; where he sent a colony of young Danes, and bestowed
the government on a celebrated warrior named Palnatoko. This new
Lycurgus had made of that city a second Sparta, and every thing was
directed to this single end, to form complete soldiers. The author who
has left us the history of this colony, assures us, that “it was
forbidden them so much as to mention the name of fear, even in the most
imminent dangers.” No citizen of Jomsburg was to yield to any number,
however great, but to fight intrepidly without flying, even from a very
superior force. The sight of present and inevitable death would have
been no excuse with them for making any the least complaint, or for
shewing the slightest apprehension. And this legislator really appears
to have eradicated from the minds of most of the youths bred up under
him, all traces of that sentiment so natural and so universal, which
makes men think on their destruction with horror. Nothing can shew this
better than a single fact in their history, which deserves to have place
here for its singularity. Some of them having made an irruption into the
territories of a powerful Norwegian lord, named Haquin, were overcome in
spite of the obstinacy of their resistance; and the most distinguished
among them being made prisoners, were, according to the custom of those
times, condemned to death. The news of this, far from afflicting them,
was, on the contrary, received with joy. The first who was led to
punishment was content to say, without changing countenance, “why should
not the same happen to me as did to my father? he died, and so must I.”
A warrior named Thorchill, who was to cut off the head of the second,
having asked him what he felt at the sight of death, he answered, “that
he remembered too well the laws of Jomsburg to utter any words that
denoted fear.” The third, in reply to the same question, said, “he
rejoiced to die in glory, and that he preferred such a death to an
infamous life like that of Thorchill’s.” The fourth made an answer much
longer and more extraordinary. “I suffer with a good heart; and the
present hour is to me very agreeable. I only beg of you,” added he,
addressing himself to Thorchill, “to be very quick in cutting off my
head; for it is a question often debated by us at Jomsburg, whether one
retains any sense after being beheaded. I will therefore grasp this
knife in my hand; if, after my head is cut off, I strike it towards you,
it will shew I have not lost all sense; if I let it drop, it will be a
proof to the contrary. Make haste, therefore, and decide the dispute.”
‘Thorchill, adds the historian, cut off his head in the most expeditious
manner, but the knife, as might be expected, dropped from his hand.’ The
fifth shewed the same tranquility, and died rallying and jeering his
enemies. The sixth begged of Thorchill that he might not be led to
punishment like a sheep; “strike the blow in my face,” said he, “I will
sit still without shrinking; and take notice whether I once wink my eyes
or betray one sign of fear in my countenance. For we inhabitants of
Jomsburg are used to exercise ourselves in trials of this sort, so as to
meet the stroke of death without once moving.” He kept his promise
before all the spectators, and received the blow without the least sign
of fear, or so much as winking his eyes. The seventh, says the
historian, was a very beautiful young man, in the flower of his age. His
long fair hair, as fine as silk, floated in curls and ringlets on his
shoulders. Thorchill asked him what he thought of death? “I receive it
willingly,” said he, “since I have fulfilled the greatest duty of life,
and have seen all those put to death whom I would not survive. I only
beg of you one favour, not to let my hair be touched by a slave, or
stained with my blood.”
[[Notes:
The place name is generally spelled Jomsborg (Denmark). This account
is probably not historical.
The “powerful Norwegian lord, named Haquin” is the historical Haakon
Jarl.]]
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