1914-09-05aa

War fever was running high in Hamilton in the first few weeks after war had been declared.

One way some Hamilton used to express their patriotism and hostility to the enemy was via the medium of poetry.

In September 1914, the following two poems appeared in the Hamilton Spectator.

 

          RETRIBUTION

The mills of the gods grind slowly along

   While the horrors of war proceed,

And the ruthless troops of a tyrant, strong,

   Cause the innocent ones to bleed.

 

Slowly but surely the wheels move around

   A terrible justice to bring;

Though scant be the news from the battle-ground

   Retribution is on the wing.

 

Shall the ‘mailed fist’ with its wanton lust

   The rights of all others defile;

And our freedom be trampled in the dust

   By a murderous dynasty?

 

The British and French and the Belgian dead

   With their blood, have the issue sealed;

The flag of freedom must float overhead

   And the reign of oppression must yield.

 

From the crimsoned ground and desolate homes

   Of fair Belgium’s wasted domain,

The appeal for a righteous vengeance comes;

   In justice, remember Louvain!

 

The allies are bravely holding their ground

   And forcing the enemy back,

While the Russians are marching Berlin-bound

   The capital city to sack.

 

Let the Germans dread the slow, steady tread

   Of the Russians as on they move;

For the cruel bite of the Muscovite

   Will a just retribution prove.

 

With the Russian hosts and allies combined

   The foe will soon have to contend;

And swiftly flee if retreat they can find

   Their own fatherland to defend.

 

Should the war tide turn, the Cossacks may burn

   And pillage and plunder and loot;

They’ll grasp at the chance to handle the lance,

   Retribution is surely afoot.

 

The war will go on till freedom is won!

   Regardless of what it may cost;

Till Wilhelm is hushed and his armies crushed

   And the throne with its crown is lost.

 

                    Fritz Hermans,

                       Hamilton, Ont.

 

 

 

WHAT OF THE RECKONING

 

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Dispatch : “The kaiser, standing alone, gazed for several hours through a pair of powerful binoculars at the opposing masses.”

 

Look well, O kaiser, see the blood spurt

   As the steel rams through and through;

Mayhap it is well that the thick, soft thud

   Of the gun-butt is not heard by you.

 

Look well and see o’er thense faces creep

   The ashen grey, as with laboring breath,

Men rush to the front rank, wild-eyed, eager

   To swelter in glorious death.

 

Ah, surely a madness is on them !

   The blood lust holding them fast.

Kaiser, by whose hand was it kindled?

   On whom shall revenge fall at last?

 

Shall the brain that willed it that such things should be

   Crumble with fires of remorse,

Or conceit of his bodily impotence

   Uphold with its deadly force

The thought that by God’s assistance

   The brute shall predominate still,

And all nations, relieved f their honor,

   Bow down to the kaiser’s will ?

 

O’er a path strewn with carrion, e’en to destruction,

   Your Goddess, Ambition, is beckoning;

But think, kaiser, think what your plea will be

   When your head bows down at the Reckoning.

 

Hamilton, Ont. September 21, 1914