The Siege of Vienna
Donald P. Goodman III
Version 1.0,Note that Christendom (insofar as she still exists) is no longer at active war with the Turks, nor indeed with Islam in general, which is a good thing, and we should strive to keep it that way. But that war was real and longstanding, and this great victory at Vienna on September 12, 1683, should be remembered by all Christians. Most Holy Name of Mary, pray for us!
St. Michael, mighty angel, sing my song of death
and battle that you guided on that bloody day;
O saint of battle, you who held the arms of him
who in the Sign of your great general would fight
and conquer, and set free his people from the chains
which had for cent'ries bound them; you who stood beside
Pelayo at the cave against the endless sea
of foes which sought the death of him and all he loved
and led him to the vict'ry; you who guided Charles,
the one we call the Hammer, when he placed himself
and his small force of Christians, now the lonely guard,
a frail flesh-wall alone which stood between that horde
of countless enemies who sought to end what he
and all those like him had but just begun to build
and helped that few to conquer, led that petty king
to fight back all the forces of that vast expanse
which spanned from Pyrenees to India afar
and save so many people from the conqu'ring foe;
who stood with Santiago in that long crusade
reclaiming old Hispania from those who stole
the jewel of the southwest from Hercules's rock
up to the maintains where the Basques still make their homes,
and fought against the foemen; seven hundred years
you and the Matamoros fought to free the land
and save it for the Christ; and you who pulled the oars
of all those galley-ships which sailed against the Turk
and came to battle at Lepanto, where the sword
of Christendom was borne by John of Austria,
and countless nations joined their mights to fight the foe
which for so many centuries had borne the curve
of scimitar and crescent 'gainst the Christian folk
and sought to bring them all to doe-eyed houris' fate
away from Him Who hung upon the wooden Cross,
the God-man Who had died for love of every man,
and brought the Holy League a victory so great
that songs will ever after sing its fulsome praise;
St. Michael, saint of battle, sing your ride to war,
when Turks again assailed the lands where full moon shines,
with crimson crescent tried to drown the light of day
and snuff the lamp which sits upon the lampstand high;
when Starhemberg, with scarcely men to man the walls,
defied the sultan's will to fall down to his knees
and hand the keys of fair Vienna to the Turk;
when Charles Lorrainer marched against the puppet prince
who did the sultan's will; when king of Hussars, John,
grand duke of Lithuania and king of Poles,
rode from the forest with his Wingéd Hussar host
and drove the Turk away from fair Vienna's gates,
and saved all Christian peoples from the dhimmi's fate
and hateful devşirme, from centuries of strife
and slavery, which their dear brethren in the East
and Africa had so long suffered with the Lord;
St. Michael, saint of battle, guide my humble song,
and help me sing this lay of heroes bold and strong!
The first to wage the war against the Christian lands
was Kara Mustafa Pasha, the grand vizier,
a loyal Muslim, shunning silver, silk, and gold,
and endless struggle for the Christians sad enough
to fall under his sway; the scourge of the Ukraine,
a ruler in Bulgaria, who stole the town
of Chyhyryn from Russia, who had but of late
retaken it from Muslim Turkish dominance;
the Emperor was Leopold the Hapsburg, first
to bear his name, the conqueror of Hungary,
the king of all Croatia and Bohemia,
and tireless foe of all who threatened Christendom.
Behind the walls of fair Vienna, Starhemberg,
Ernst Rüdiger stood with his fifteen thousand men
against six times that many Turkish Ottomans,
and held them off for two months' starving, weary siege
before he could then sally out to slay the foe
when King Sobieski rode down from the Kahlenberg.
Duke Charles Lorrainer, he who fought the puppet prince,
the traitor Imre, he who rode to fight the Turk,
and smote his Turks and Magyars at the Bisanberg.
And he who rescued Christendom, the Polish king,
great John Sobieski, veteran of the many wars
that Poland had to fight against the southern Turks
and northern heretics that threatened Poland fair.
Born in Olesko in Ukraine, Ruthenia,
son of the voivode and his noblewoman wife,
the mighty John showed strength of mind e'en more than arm
and studied at the Krakow university,
and travelled widely all through Europe's greatest towns;
a fluent speaker of both his fair native tongue
and Latin, that great language of the Holy Church,
and German, French, Italian; flexing first his mind
before he had necessity to flex his arm.
He first swung with his mighty axe to slay the men
who rose rebelling at Zamosc; King Casimir
defeated them with John as part of his great host.
The head of his own hussars, at Berestechko
he put down more rebellion on the king's behalf.
King Casimir made John an envoy to the Turk;
he added Turkish to the list of tongues he spoke
before he then rode north to fight the Swedes' Deluge,
when Swedes and Russians swept through all the Commonwealth,
destroyed the city Warsaw, countless other towns
and churches, sparing only Lvov and Gdansk of all
the cities in the land before they could be pushed
back to the lands they came from. As he rose in rank
he won a seat as deputy within that house,
the Sejm, which sat to give advice unto the king
and soon became grand marshall of the Polish crown,
and then defeated Hussain Pasha of the Turks
at Khotyn, though outnumbered; then at Lemberg town;
then raised the siege of Trembowla; returning home,
when King Michael had died, his noble countrymen
elected him their king. But John did greater deeds,
e'en greater than his victories in many wars
and feats of learned wisdom: for his strength of mind
and strength of arm, despite their power, were outdone
by strength of heart; for ere he was the King of Poles,
King John did have a queen, Marie Casimire Louise,
his dearest Marysieńka; and his love for her
and hers for him is stuff of legend; oft they wrote
to one another; ever were their hearts as one
though distance, war, and danger kept them oft apart.
Though he a mighty warrior and she a maid,
he thought it not beneath him to beseech her aide
and follow her advice in everything he faced,
a worthy helpmate in the Sacrament they shared
and precious jewel with price beyond the farthest lands.
And so were these men poised for battle on that day
in autumn Sixteen Eighty-Three, when Europe's doom
was finálly decided, once and for all time,
and that, for now, it would remain a Christian land,
and part of Christendom, and that the Turk would not
extinguish once for all the light upon the world
that Christ did shine from Rome, th' eternal city bless'd.
And Christendom would need of virtue her whole store
when for her liberation she would march to war!
In Fifteen Twenty-Nine the Turks besieged the town,
the Danube's jewel, Vienna, with a fearsome host,
a hundred thousand men; the city manned its walls
with barely more than twenty thousand; still, she fought,
with Nicholas Graf Salm to lead the desperate hold
against an ocean of her foes; for two long weeks
the Turks besieged the city; one in ten were killed
of those who fought against them, and an untold count
of citizens were killed in that despairing siege.
But though the Turks advanced with numbers far above
what Christendom could meet, they could not move their guns
and camels near as easily as they had hoped;
the sultan's forces reached Vienna sick and tired,
but still in such great numbers that they felt assured
of victory. The Turks sent three rich Austrians,
their prisoners, to the city to demand its keys
and all its wealth and citizens; but Nicholas
sent in return three Muslims as his sole response,
and readied for the fight. The Muslim sappers dug
while Nicholas sent sorties out to stop their work,
like fleas harassing elephants; but without fear,
the sorties did great work, and slayed a multitude,
and nearly captured that great Turkish general,
Pargeli Pasha, who had once a Christian been,
but captured as a youth by Turks was made a slave
and lost his faith, and soon was fully with the Turks,
until the sultan, heedless of his years of faith,
had Pasha murdered in his home. The Christians fought,
and soon the sorties blew up all the sultan's mines,
and thus he chose to make a final, mighty push
with all his men. The Christian force raised high the Cross
and fought with all their strength; the arquebus was loud,
the pikes were sharp, and soon the Turks were put to flight
back to their stolen capital which bore the name
of him who conquered in the Sign of God's good Son,
Whom they would all deny. And since that campaign failed,
the Turks had waited for their chance to strike again;
had built the roads and bridges so their heavy guns
could reach the walls of fair Vienna; long they lurked,
and fomented divisions on the Christian side,
delighted that the Lutherans stole the northern lands,
ecstatic that the French feared Hapsburg power more
than they loved Christendom; Pergali Pasha knew
the fears of France, so weakened by the Huguenots,
and played them straight into the sultan's grasping hands,
before long docking Turkish fleets in Christian ports
at Marseilles while the Holy League fought desperately
and won the glorious victory that saved the West
from Muslim domination at Lepanto. Then,
in Hungary, which they had stolen from its folk,
the Turks set up a puppet, Imre Thököly,
a Protestant who in his own, less vicious way
held hate for Christendom as deep as any Turk
who did not know the Christ, and swore his faith to them
who sought the slavery of Christians everywhere.
By Sixteen Eighty-Two, when war at last began,
the Ottomans were ruling lands so widely spread
that all North Africa and Egypt, Palestine,
old Syria and Asia Minor, ancient Greece,
the land between the rivers, all the Balkan lands,
and north to Hung'ry and Ukraine was bent beneath
the curvéd scimitar of Islam's Turkish host.
So total and despotic was the sultan's rule
that he would institute, without rebellion's fear,
the devşirme, by which the boys of Christian homes
were stolen from their families, brought to Muslim lands,
and circumcised, converted by that scimitar,
and turned into the sultan's very favorite men,
the Janissaries, feared and dreaded; these poor boys,
once stolen from their weeping mothers, after years
of brutal Muslim programming, were then returned
to Christian lands and used to do the same to folk
as had been done to them. This cruellest slavery
gave such joy to the sultan, and such misery
to all his Christian subjects; but for centuries
he built up mighty armies with the stolen boys
of Christian lands; the men of Christendom knew well
what was at stake when that next year they went to war!
And so, their strongest Western ally, holy France,
had been suborned; and in the north the Lutherans reigned,
who, even when they did not make a war themselves,
were only too glad when they saw the Turks advance
in Catholic countries; and then to the south and east
the Ottomans stood with an empire strong and vast,
and Christendom seemed ripe and ready for its fall.
But still, though struck on every flank and from within,
the men of Christendom were not yet wholly spent!
The Holy Roman Empire called on good King John
and Poland; though his wife and sympathies were French,
King John knew well that Christendom must ere all else
be fought for and be saved; and so he promised aid
if e'er the Turks again attacked Vienna's walls;
and Leopold the Emperor did swear in turn
that should the Turks turn north instead of west, then he
would ride to Poland's side. On March the thirty-first
in Sixteen Eighty-Three, the sultan's message came:
surrender fair Vienna's gates, or be destroyed.
And so the Turks marched north and westward, gath'ring strength
from other Muslims and their puppets on the way;
one hundred fifty thousand men marched up the stream,
to take the river's jewel. The Emperor then fled
and gathered sixty thousand of the people, too,
to bring them all to safety; in the city's walls
he trusted Ernst von Starhemberg to hold the gates
with fifteen thousand men, all that could then be spared.
One Christian for ten Muslims! Hopeless seemed the day,
the fourteenth of July, when Turks engulfed the walls
and started their great siege; yet Starhemberg had hope,
a hope that even countless Turks could ne'er defeat,
and light which nothing could extinguish. Leopold,
from Passau where he'd brought his people, lit the fires
and called for John Sobieski and his Polish host
to come to his relief! But still, John needed time,
and Starhemberg was sore beset within the walls.
The Macchabees endured for long the Persian sword,
and Christ Himself had suffered His own Body's siege;
could fair Vienna long resist the Turkish horde?
Could scimitar and turban fall to Christian sword?
When Starhemberg had been entrusted with the town,
and knew the Turks were marching up the Danube's length
with overwhelming force of men and mines and guns
to crush the city's walls to rubble, he declared
that all the city's men and arms be put to use,
if there were any hope of holding till the Poles
and Leopold arrived; so he did send his men
to burn, destroy, and crush the houses all around
the city's walls to make an open plain for guns
to fire upon the Turks when they would march or sneak
to make attempt to break them. On July Fourteenth,
Kara Mustafa sent the message to the town:
surrender now, or be destroyed, no quarter gi'en,
and Starhemberg at last stood at that fateful point
when he must make decision that could cost the lives
of thousands, e'en himself; but yet might save the whole
of Christendom. But he had heard of Perchtoldsdorf
but days before, which had surrendered to the Turk
when gi'en the same demand, though they had long held out
the last time Ottomans had ventured so far west.
Mustafa had not honored his fair promise then
to Perchtoldsdorf, and all the town was put to death;
so Starhemberg knew well would happen to his men
if he surrendered, even if he were inclined.
But no; this new Thermopylae would ever stand;
this Christian Leonidas gave the same response
the pagan one gave long ago, and readied all
his men and guns, a tiny rock to hold the wave
of all the mighty ocean; that July Fourteenth,
a single spot of warmth afloat in frozen seas,
a grain of sand pushed by the countless other grains
to fall down through the hourglass, but cries out, “No!
We stand and fight no matter how the war may go!
If there be ten of you for every one of us,
then we will each slay twenty e'er we too are slain,
and all our brethren after war's most dreadful course
will raise their glasses, honor the victor'ous dead!”
The Turks at once began their digging trenches wide
directly toward the city while defending guns
did blast and boom against the sappers and their mines
as slowly they crept closer to the mighty walls.
The Turkish guns did not sit silent; constantly
they sent barrages at the outer palisades.
The men of Christendom, while under Turkish fire,
took mighty tree-trunks to rebuild the palisades
and so delayed the Turkish march. But still they dug,
and still the Christians fought like heroes, though the day
seemed destined to be lost. The Turks allowed no food
to enter that fair city; from July Fourteenth
until September Twelfth the men just fought and starved,
their figures ever gaunter as their hunger sapped
their strength as surely as the sappers mined the walls.
But Ernst von Starhemberg, though starving with his men,
would keep them fighting to the hungry, bitter end;
as men in sore privation fell asleep on watch
he woke them and beseeched them keep themselves awake,
remember their great duty; as the Turks did mine,
the Christians dug themselves, and slew the sappers, slowed
the diggers, captured and defused the Turkish mines,
and waited for the Wingéd Hussars' strong relief
which they knew was soon coming. And so did the Turk!
As summer passed to autumn, Mustafa well knew
the Empire's and the Polish troops would soon arrive,
and it behooved him to have seized the city first
and meet them from its strength; so as Duke Charles marched east
and John Sobieski led his army to the south,
the Turks exerted all their strength upon the walls,
with saps and mines so numerous the Christian host
could not defuse them all; they blew huge holes in stone,
and starving, gaunt defenders fought these well-fed troops
at Burg and Löbel several days, and held them back,
until at last the ravelin of Burg was seized,
and Starhemberg prepared his men for that last fight
within the very streets of fair Vienna town.
September Eighth! Vienna very nearly fell,
just barely held by desperate battle of gaunt men,
emaciated shadows of the men who once
had proudly manned the walls; but they were not yet spent!
E'en as they fought ferociously against the Turks,
ten massive mines were being dug and filled with bombs
at Löbel to blow yet another hole and end
the Christian men's resistence at those mighty walls.
September Twelfth! Would Muslim force to vict'ry run?
Would crescent moon o'erwhelm the shaded, clouded sun?
Still, ever southward John Sobieski led his men,
and stopped at Czestochowa to beseech the aid
of her whose Son Whose Cross has given strength to men,
a strength that rests in suffering, and joy in woe;
and Duke Charles of Lorraine knew he must help relieve
the men behind the walls, before the Turkish arms
and their starvation lost the day for Christendom.
Still, Charles did not have near the men that he would need
to fight the main force of the Turk; but he knew well
that there were willing traitors with the enemy
that he might draw away from fair Vienna's walls
to give the men within some slight relief; and so
he marched to Bisamberg, a mere three miles away
northwest of Danube's jewel, as August wore away;
and fearing that the Christians tried encirclement,
the Turks went up to meet them; Thököly they sent,
the traitor “prince” of Turkish Hungary, whose sword
was always lent to help the foes of Christendom,
and who the sultan gave reward when war was done
with land and titles. Riding out to meet the force
of troops imperial, Thököly lost the day,
and Charles could take possession of the north and west,
relieve the garrison, and wait in strength for John,
who came e'er nearer to the field of war. The sixth
King John Sobieski crossed the Danube twenty miles
from fair Vienna, at the ancient town of Tulln,
and there the host of Christendom prepared for war
and organized their men beneath Sobieski's flag.
Within the city, fifteen thousand men could fight,
and almost all were infantry; artillery
and some few horsemen also held the Turks at bay;
Duke Charles Lorrainer with the Emp'ror's regiments
and three Croatian units stood upon the left;
the Swab'ans and Bavarians with Prince Georg,
and Saxons marched to battle, grenadiers and guns,
and infantry and horse; Francon'ans joined the fight,
and then, of course, King John and all his Polish host,
his infantry and cavalry with axes sharp
and hussars champing at the bit to fight the foe
that threatened certain death to cherished Christendom.
Th' eleventh of September, Marco said the Mass,
and all the host joined all their prayers for victory,
for strength in arms against this horde of enemies,
for courage in the face of almost certain death,
for still there stood two Turks for every Christian man,
and all were sore afraid; but John could raise his axe,
remind the men that often they had won the field
when sorely overrun by all the hordes of Turks,
and that they fought to save the Christian world they knew,
their own homes and their families, and that Christendom
herself stood in the balance, teetered on the brink
of being overwhelmed by all her many foes.
And so, they went to rest; for on the morrow war
would start, and battle join, and trusted unto God
the end of what may come on that great fearful day.
What manfulness! What courage! Has there e'er been done
such deeds like these in all the lands beneath the sun?
September Twelfth! That fateful day! A day of war!
A red day, marked by blood and killing, screams and gore!
Before the sun had risen, that great Christian host
began to form; but Mustafa was not asleep,
and launched the first attack; their charge fell to the left,
where troops imperial were ready for the strike!
The boom of guns; the clash of battle! Axes struck
and swords were swung and stabbed; the Turks were fighting well
and with their customary courage; but Duke Charles
and all his men knew that the Lord of War was there,
the God Who led the Hebrews, when He'd set them free,
to spoil great Egypt of its riches for their debt;
Who slew the traitors of the idol golden calf;
who felled the mighty walls of ancient Jericho
with marching and a song; the God of Constantine,
of good Pelayo, Baldwin, and the Leper King,
and John of Austria, was fighting at their side;
that Michael, prince of angels, heaven's general
and Santiago Matamoros fought with them;
and so, though still outnumbered two to one, they fought
and slowly pushed the Ottomans e'er farther back,
and forced the Turk to pay a heavy, bloody price
for every yard the host retook from Turkish arms!
And as they fought the field, the Turks attacked the walls;
they'd not forgotten fair Vienna still stood strong,
that Starhemberg, though starved and weary, still fought on;
the city that controlled the Danube was their goal,
and they did not neglect it; the ten mines they'd laid
beneath the Löbelbastei were all set to blow
and spell the final doom of fair Vienna town
as still a Christian city; but while Charles fought Turks
outside the city, Starhemberg's still-doughty men
found and defused the mines; the Turks now had to fight
and win on open fields; and so Mustafa sent
in counter nearly all his army; good Duke Charles
ahorse and at the head of all the Emp'ror's men
met that great Turkish charge and broke it; like a wave,
the Turkish army crashed against th' imper'al shore
and then washed out; but here the Emperor gave chase,
and as the sun reached noon, though Turks assailed the walls,
Duke Charles advanced, and Polish foot upon the right
pinned down Mustafa in between their axes sharp
and th' army of the Duke. The Turks had reinforced
one spot to be their stronghold, where they could resist
(or so they thought) the armies that relieved the town:
the Türkenschanze; Mustafa put up a fight,
and such a fight that, as the afternoon wore on
into the evening, Charles could not break through their lines
and seize it; then his men looked to the Kahlenberg,
the wooded mountain that o'erlooked the field of war;
and as they watched, a sight like which shall ne'er be seen
again before this age of history is done.
The sultan's scourge! the source of all jihadis' woe!
King John of Poland readied with the final blow!
For near two centuries, defending Poland's king
and Poland's people rode the Wingéd Hussars tall;
with shining breastplate, brightly polished armor shone
on shoulders, arms, and helmet, with a fearsome plume
and sturdy jackboots; brightly-colored pants and sleeves,
the red of blood; their lances long and sharp; their swords
were fearsome sabers; and each one bore rounded shield
and sharpened axe to use when lances had been broke
within the flesh of enemies; and o'er it all,
great iron wings, with plumage bright, above their heads
and from their backs would flutter as they drove their steeds
to death and battle. Known and feared the Hussars were
by Turks and sultan, for they had met them before
upon the fields of Khotyn. And on this great day,
the sultan at the Türkenschanze fought the Duke
and Polish foot to standstill early in the eve
beneath the shadow of the mighty Kahlenberg.
But then, as sun began to wane, above the clash
and painful screams of battle, all men heard the horn;
the loud and fearsome horn of John, the King of Poles,
as he sat fully armed and armored on his horse,
upon the Kahlenberg! And as all faces turned,
both Turk and Christian, loudly blew the horn again,
and silenced all the battlefield; and at his back,
the back of John Sobieski, slowly from the woods
three thousand Wingéd Hussars came and cried their cry
of death and battle! And behind the Hussars rode
some fifteen thousand horsemen, serving both their king
and Christendom, and all that host, with sounding horn
and battle cry, declared their march upon the foe!
The Christian infantry gave cheer! The quailing Turks
formed up to meet the charge; and Starhemberg within,
still undefeated, gathered up his weary men,
now filled with vigor and with zeal, and sallied forth
to join the fight outside the walls! King John ahorse
unset his lance and kicked his horse's flanks and cried,
and started that great charge down from the Kahlenberg,
the Wingéd Hussars with him, and then all his horse,
their mighty steeds still pounding on the battleground,
forever to save Christendom from raging Turks,
forever to restore all things in Jesus Christ!
Down from the Kahlenberg that mighty charge did pound,
Sobieski at its head, their lances each and all
now destined for the flesh of foes! A thousand pounds
each horse and hussar measured down the mountain's slope
at thirty miles per hour, shining armor bright,
and pluméd wings a-flutter in the battle's breeze!
Down from the Kahlenberg the Wingéd Hussars charged,
the Turks with every hoofbeat feeling fear arise,
their throats a-filling ever more as stomachs rose,
their hearts a-pounding louder than the horse's hooves
which grew e'er closer down the mighty mountain side!
Down from the Kahlenberg the Muslims saw their deaths,
their shining, pluméd, glor'ous deaths approaching fast,
like wingéd angels swooping down from heaven's heights,
their lances like the judgment of an angry God,
their horses fiery chariots with certain doom!
King John was first to sink his lance into the foe
as that great wave of hussars hit the Turkish shore
and broke it utterly; the Turkish line was crushed,
and shattered like a pane of glass, the hammer stroke
the Wingéd Hussars of King John! The infantry,
still cheering, pushed their way among the broken lines
and fought and slew, and Turks, their force already spent,
began to flee; when Starhemberg and sortie came
to join the fight, they broke into a headlong flight,
and all of Christendom gave chase in victory!
The Christian forces overran the Turkish camp
as Turkish forces fled in terror from their arms,
abandoning their weapons, tents; their beasts and wealth,
and fleeing desperately, no longer bent on war
and conquest: rather mere survival and escape
from all the swords of now-triumphant Christendom!
Brave, weary Starhemberg, unconquered, met King John
upon the field of battle and embraced his neck
and kissed him, saying, “Hail, Vienna's saving knight,
true heir of great Crusaders, John Sobieski, king!”
And Louis William, Margrave, marched with his dragoons
into Vienna town, to all the love and cheers
of those few who remained and had not sallied forth.
The spoils of war were huge; for in sheer opulence,
no people'd e'er outdone the sultan of the Turks,
and wealth beyond imagination would be seized
in payment for the misery the Turks had done!
And e'en the very tents were seized and cut to size
and sewn into fine vestments for the priests of Christ
to offer sacrifice of praise for victory
and the conversion of the enemies thus fought
and beaten on the field beneath the Kahlenberg.
And as for good King John, as victory was done,
he sat down in the tent which had the night before
housed Kara Mustafa, the Turkish grand vizier,
and wrote a letter to the one he loved the most,
the woman who had loved him all those weary years
and long campaigns of war: his Marysieńka dear,
and told her of the feats they'd done at Kahlenberg,
the victory they'd won at fair Vienna's gates,
and praised the Lord his God for bringing them the win,
the triumph of the arms of cherished Christendom!
And “Venimus”, he said, “We came”; indeed, they did,
though Hapsburgs were a rival, and the mighty French
would rather see them fall than Christendom arise,
and victory was far from certain when he marched
to rescue Christendom as she was sore beset
and stared right down the barrel of the Turkish gun;
And “Vidimus”, he said, “We saw”; they surely did;
they came and saw the fearsome host around the walls
which looked as if it never ended, stretching back
in numbers without counting from Vienna's gates
to old Constantinople, which remained enslaved
two hundred years away from when it fell to them.
And “Deus vicit”, “God has conquered”, he did say,
reminding all of history that Christian men
unlike the pagan generals of old will fight
not for the sake of fighting, not for bloody arms
and stolen loot and stolen land; but for the Lord
and for the right will never cease to bear their arms
and wet them in the blood of those who seek the death
of lands that serve the Christ: belovéd Christendom!
What victory! No greater has been ever known!
and yet the victors credited their God alone!
The beating suffered by the Turks was so severe
they never threatened fair Vienna's gates again,
and though their empire would endure some centuries,
and many Christians still remained beneath their yoke
and suffered the devşirme and the many griefs
imposed upon them, they were finally on the fall,
and they would lose their Christian vassals one by one;
King John himself saved Grau, and then at Parkeny
freed most of northern Hungary from Turkish swords;
and Charles V, the Emp'ror's son, released the rest
of Hungary and northern Serbia, as well,
and then of Transylvania. Mustafa himself
before year's end received the usual reward
of losing some great battle: he was put to death,
by strangulation with a silken rope; so closed
the sultan's final march to threaten Christian lands.
And when the Holy Father Innocent in Rome
had heard the news of John Sobieski's victory,
and that the army had entrusted all their arms
and safety to the Virgin Mother of the Christ,
he marked the day of victory, September Twelfth,
a feast of that belovéd Virgin's holy name,
and named Sobieski as Defender of the Faith.
And so, for ever after, Christian men could think,
remember John Sobieski as he marched to war!
Remember how St. Michael marched along his side,
with Santiago Matamoros riding south;
and Constantine, Pelayo, mighty Charles Martel,
and John of Austria, and countless other souls
who gave their hands and lives to build up Christendom,
and gave their arms to save it from its enemies!
So pray for us, St. Michael; give the strength we need
to be the Wingéd Hussars that our age requires,
and do our own best service for dear Christendom!
Remembering, despite its wounds and many scars,
it's loyal to and guided by fair heaven's stars!