For the White Rose

As anyone who reads this blog knows, I am a great fan of Chevalier
Charles Coulombe. He has been a friend of mine for over 25 years. I post a video of his every day, I often refer to him, I recommend his books, and I occasionally post an article by him. But did you know that he published a book of poetry? Yes, back when he was still a young lad, he published a collection of poems under the title The White Cockade. This is one of my favourites.

The title of the collection is taken from the fact that both supporters of the House of Bourbon in France, and of the House of Stuart in Britain wore a white cockade. The title of the poem refers to the white rose worn by the Jacobites, and, possibly, is an allusion to the White Rose, the anti-National Socialist resistance group in Germany.

From The White Cockade

All Kings and all pretenders,
wherever you may be,
the land itself remembers
though we are far from thee. 
You Counts and Knights and Barons
who served your God and King,
fear not the modern charons
who scorn their honor, sing 
Of modern age’s wonders joys our science brought,
care not for bloody blunders
and evil that they wrought 
All through the world’s vast waters
the Monarchs sent their men
who ended Heathen slaughters
made salvation within ken 
Of savage tribes and races.
To our South-west the King of Spain
sent Friars from their places
who worked and died in pain. 
His Majesty of France indeed
the rivers took in fief,
Blackrobe, trapper, with great speed
converted brave and Chief. 
Even Britain’s Sovereign cold
displayed his Royal worth,
dispatched minions sure and bold
to found our land of birth. 
He who reigned in Sweden’s north
sent all that he could spare,
brave Swedes for him sallied forth
and settled Delaware. 
But facing revolution’s frown,
the Monarch’s call so loud,
for brave swords to help the crown
against the maddening crowd. 
The Jacobites for Royal James
and Bonnie Charles as well,
the Carlists fought with Spanish names
while Chouans tasted Hell. 
The brave emerged from old
Vendee
and died at Quiberon
or fought with great old Duc Condé
or fell at bold Toulon. 
And Hofer up in High Tyrol
fought his Emperor’s foe
feared not to pay the awful toll
before they laid him low. 
In Russia’s far off blinding snows
the Whites fought for their Tsar,
and though the Country’s lost in
woe,
their glory none can mar. 
Ethiopia, Laos, Iran all had their Paladins
Vietnam, Afghanistan, remind us of our sins. 
I beg the King who reigns above
that to me may be shown
how to fight with savage love
for altar, and for throne.

Coulombe, Charles. The White Cockade (Kindle Locations 168-236). Tumblar House. Kindle Edition.