weapons

"A simple leaden bullet and a few grains of powder are sufficient in the shortest limit of time to blast and ruin all that is precious in human existence, not alone of the murdered, but of the murderer."

"The iron-cased rockets of Mysore alarmed the British. That this was something new that they were encountering becomes evident in the British chronicles, like those of Innes Munro who gives an account of how these rockets operated: Hyder Ally also employs some thousands of men for throwing rockets. This is a missive weapon, and made in the same form as those used by schoolboys, with this difference, that the stalk is a thick bamboo, eight or ten feet long, which has a tube of iron, from six to twelve pounds weight, fixed to the end of it, in which the fuse and powder are placed. In wet weather, or marshy grounds, these are set off flying in the air, and will reach to the distance of a mile and a half; but upon dry grounds they are pointed horizontally, and bound in a very uncertain direction, often creating great damage, particularly amongst cavalry and ammunition tumbrils. Hyder’s train of artillery is chiefly composed of French and Danish guns of different calibers, but most commonly heavy metal, which are doubly yoked with trained bullocks; and are as well and expeditiously served as ours."

"An eyewitness of these incidents in Srirangapatna in April 1799, Col Bayly, records in his diary: The rockets and musketry from upwards of 20,000 of the enemy were incessant. No hail could be thicker. Every illumination of blue lights was accompanied by a shower of rockets, some of which entered the head of the column, passing through to its rear, causing death, wounds and dreadful lacerations from the long bamboos of twenty or thirty feet, which are invariably attached to them. The instant a rocket passes through a man’s body it resumes its original impetus of force, and will thus destroy ten or twenty until the combustible matter with which it is charged becomes expended. The shrieks of our men from these unusual weapons was terrific: thighs, legs, and arms left fleshless with bones protruding in a shattered state from every part of the body, were the sad effects of these diabolical engines of destruction."

"Again we breathe Fresh air and sun through lanes your lances made."

"The moon, a sweeping scimitar, dipped in the stormy straits, The dawn, a crimson cataract, burst through the eastern gates, The cliffs were robed in scarlet, the sands were cinnabar, Where first two men spread wings for flight and dared the hawk afar."

"The disembarkation was a fucking shambles and we only took Alexandria as quick as we did to get a fucking drink somewhere, because we were near dead with the thirst…. The town was full of a lot of half-starved blacks, near-blacks you could call them, in filthy rags, raising their hands to the bloody burning heavens when they saw us come in, shouting Allah Allah and so on. Some old bints with veils on gave us fucking filthy water to drink, but filthy or not it was like elation and ecstasy and so on. There was hardly a solitary fucking thing worth having in the whole town, all half-starved goats and so on, and talk about the fucking heat and the smell. Anyway, what they called sheiks came and gave him the keys, and the officers did all right with like knives and scimitars with jewels on, but then we had to move on to Damanhur and Rahmaniya and so on, near dropping with the fucking heat."

"Defiling their shadows, infidels, accursed of Allah, with fingernails that are foot-long daggers, with mouths agape like cauldrons full of teeth on the boil, with eyes all fire, shaitans possessed of Iblis, clanking into their wars all linked, like slaves, with iron chains. Murad Bey, the huge, the single-blowed ox-beheader, saw without too much surprise mild-looking pale men dressed in blue, holding guns, drawn up in squares six deep as though in some massed dance depictive of orchard walls. At the corners of the squares were heavy giins and gunners. There did not seem to be many horsemen. Murad said a prayer within, raised his scimitar to heaven and yelled a fierce and holy word. The word was taken up, many thousandfold, and in a kind of gloved thunder the Mamelukes threw themselves on to the infidel right and nearly broke it. But the squares healed themselves at once, and the cavalry of the faithful crashed in three avenging prongs along the fire-spitting avenues between the walls. A great gun uttered earthquake language at them from within a square, and, rearing and cursing the curses of the archangels of Islam on to the uncircumcized, they wheeled and swung towards their protective village of Embabeh. There they encountered certain of the blue-clad infidel horde on the flat roofs of the houses, coughing musket-fire at them. But then disaster sang along their lines from the rear as shell after shell crunched and the Mamelukes roared in panic and burden to the screams of their terrified mounts, to whose ears these noises were new. Their rear dissolving, their retreat cut off, most sought the only way, that of the river. They plunged in, horseless, seeking to swim across to join the inactive horde of Ibrahim, waiting for. action that could now never come. Murad Bey, with such of his horsemen as were left, yelped off inland to Gizeh."

"After having razed the garden, profaned the chalices and the altars, by horse the Huns broke into the Monastic library and they tore the incomprehensible books and they vituperated them and they burnt them, fearing their symbols and characters might be concealing secret blasphemies against their God, who was an iron scimitar."

"The rider was a dark-skinned giant. His wide silk pantaloons, gathered in about his bare ankles. They were supported by a broad girdle wrapped repeatedly about his huge belly; that girdle also supported a flaring-tipped scimitar, which few men could have wielded with one hand. With that scimitar, the man was famed wherever the sons of the desert rode. He was Tilutan, the pride of the Ghanata. (Grant/Gollancz)"

"I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;"

"The moon rose, an opalescent goddess tipping light from her harsh maternal scimitar."

"Conan's scimitar licked out like the tongue of a cobra, and a Zamorian shrieked and fell, clutching his belly."

"The soul, secur’d in her existence, smiles At the drawn dagger, and defies its point."

"TUBAL: Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, in one night fourscore ducats. SHYLOCK: Thou stickest a dagger in me: I shall never see my gold again: fourscore ducats at a sitting! fourscore ducats!"

"Then Gilgamesh like a butcher, brave and skilful, Between the yoke of the horns and the slaughter-spot [he thrust in] his knife."

"When the hungry curate licks the knife there’s not much for the clerk;"

"Dennis: I mean, if I went around saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they’d put me away!"

"The time admits not flowers or leaves To deck the banquet. Fiercely flies The blast of North and East, and ice Makes daggers at the sharpen’d eaves,"

"Arrasado el jardín, profanados los cálices y las aras, entraron a caballo los hunos en la biblioteca monástica y rompieron los libros incomprensibles y los vituperaron y los quemaron, acaso temerosos de que las letras encubrieran blasfemias contra su dios, que era una cimitarra de hierro."

"The rider was a giant whose skin, blacker than that of the other two, as well as his thick lips and flaring nostrils, told of a heavy predominance of Negro blood. His wide silk pantaloons, gathered in about his bare ankles, were supported by a broad girdle wrapped repeatedly about his huge belly. That girdle also supported a flaring-tipped scimitar, which few men could have wielded with one hand. With that scimitar, the man was famed wherever the dark-skinned sons of the desert rode. He was Tilutan, the pride of the Ghanata. (Lancer)"

"Leaving Piemont, and coasting the sassinous shoare of Genoaes revieroe, I ported Ligorne, the great Dukes Sea-haven; where I left Mr. Bruce with a Galley Captaine a voluntary Souldier; and inclining alone to Florence by the way at Pestoia, I found a comfortable crosse; for I sighting the market place after supper, and carrying a French Ponyard in my pocket, the head of it was espied by a Badgello, Captaine of the Sergeants, who straight gripped me, bore me to prison, and clapd me in a Dungeon robbing me of all my moneyes and Poneyard; and posting that night to Florence on the morrow shew the Justice there a Stilleto of his owne: upon which I was condemned to row in the Gallies for a yeare, else to pay a hundred Duckats: He stayed there three dayes, in this time was I discovered to the governour of Pistoia, a noble Gentleman, and being brought before him, and acquainting him with the undeserved cruelty of the Badgello: nor that I never wore a Stilleto, but under pretext of that had robbed mee of three-score and twelve pieces of gold: Whereupon the Governour perceiving the knavery of the Villaine, and that he had not acquainted him with my apprehending, to whose place it belonged, he grew immatulent and forthwith sent post to his Highnesse, shewing him the trueth of the businesse: Whereupon the Badgello was sent backe to the Governour with whom I was domestickly reserved; and being accused before my face of his roguery, could not deny it: well, my gold and my Poneyard is restored againe, the Badgello banished the territorie of Pistoia for ever, with his Wife and Children, and I received in compensation of my abuses, from his Highnesse Chamber or Treasury there, fifty Florentine Crownes of gold, being modified by the Duke him selfe; whereat I extolled the knave, that wrought his own wracke in seeking my overthrow, and brought me such a noble reward."

"More was seen through the sternlight screen— Chartings undoubt where a woman had been!— A flimsy shift on a bunker cot, With a thin dirk-slot through the bosom spot And the lace stiff-dry in a purplish blot."

"Five scimitars, wi’ murder crusted;"

"Flags, rags, ferryboats, scimitars and scarves, Every precious dream and vision underneath the stars."

"The rider was a giant whose skin, blacker than that of the other two, as well as his thick lips and flaring nostrils, told of negro blood in vastly predominating abundance. His wide silk pantaloons, gathered in about his bare ankles, were supported by a broad girdle wrapped repeatedly about his huge belly; that girdle also supported a flaring-tipped scimitar, which few men could have weild with one hand. With that scimitar the man was famed wherever the dark-skinned sons of the desert rode. He was Tilutan, the pride of the Ghanata. (Del Rey)"

"Southward beyond the road lay the main force of the Haradrim, and there their horsemen were gathered about the standard of their chieftain. And he looked out, and in the growing light he saw the banner of the king, and that it was far ahead of the battle with few men about it. Then he was filled with a red wrath and shouted aloud, and displaying his standard, black serpent upon scarlet, he came against the white horse and the green with great press of men; and the drawing of the scimitars of the Southrons was like a glitter of stars."

"A congress of the powers is deceit agreed on between diplomats — it is the pen of Machiavelli combined with the scimitar of Mahomet."

"We now retreated towards the sea, being able to carry but few of our wounded with us; those remaining were barbarously butchered by the Turks, whose cavalry came out and deliberately cut off the heads of our poor helpless comrades."

"DONALBAIN: There's daggers in men's smiles."

"JULIET: Yea, noise? Then I’ll be brief. O, happy dagger, This is thy sheath. There rust, and let me die."

"And is there no war on today? It is the weapons that have changed, that's all. Instead of an axe or scythe or scimitar, they fight with roubles."

"Let the world’s sharpness, like a clasping knife, Shut in upon itself and do no harm In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm, And let us hear no sound of human strife After the click of the shutting. ..."

"So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, He smote the steeled pole-axe on the ice."

"Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: Advance thy halbert higher than my breast, Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness."

"Bring up the brown bills."

"Many a time, but for a sallet, my brainpan had been cleft with a brown bill;"

"Come, stand by me; fear nothing. Guard with halberds!"

"Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills Against thy seat: both young and old rebel, And all goes worse than I have power to tell."

"I bring my fraught unto the wished port, My Summer’s hope, my travels’ sweet reward: And here, with humble duty, I present This sacrifice, this first fruit of my sword, Cropped and cut down even at the gate of death, The king of Boheme, father, whom I slew; Whose thousands had entrenched me round about, And lay as thick upon my battered crest, As on an Anvil, with their ponderous glaves:"

"The billmen and pikemen wore salades and morions. Steel caps were made to the shape of the head and sometimes called scull-caps; a woollen cap was worn within. The bill-men were called also halberdiers; their chief weapon being a sort of double battle-axe or bi-pennis, called a bill; when affixed to long staves, as usual for infantry, they were termed alle-bardes or cleave-alls. The halberd or bill had a long slender blade or spit, and a side blade or blades, with cutting edge, sometimes crescent form with a concave side sharp, at others with a convex side outwards and edged. The opposite blade terminated in a sort of beak or pick, for splitting. The partizan was a sort of broad-bladed bill, terminating in a crescent with concave blade. The blackbill was so called from its blades being blacked, instead of being kept bright."

"Halbard is the arms carry'd by the serjeants of foot and dragoons; the head of the halbard ought to be a foot or 15 inches long; one end ought to be hollow to receive the staff, but the other broad, ribb'd in the middle, edg'd on both sides, and drawing to a point, like the point of a two-edged sword. On one side of the head is likewise fixed a piece in form of a half-moon or star, and on the other a broad point of four inches long, crooked a little, which is very commodious for drawing fascines, gabions, or whatever obstacle happen in the way. The staff of the halbard is about five foot long, and an inch and half diameter, made of ash or other hard wood. Halbards are very useful in determining the ground betwixt the ranks, and for dressing the ranks and files of a battalion, and likewise for chastising the soldiers."

"Staff-weapons in Medieval or Renaissance England were lumped together under the generic term "staves" but when dealing with them in detail we are faced with terminological difficulty. There never seems to have been a clear definition of what was what; there were apparently far fewer staff-weapons in use than there were names to call them by; and contemporary writers up to the seventeenth century use these names with abandon, calling different weapons by the same name and similar weapons by different names. To add to this, we have various nineteenth century terminologies used by scholars. We must remember too that any particular weapon ... had everywhere a different name."

"Among our pole-arms we find curious forms developed which could have been used only for special purposes, like animals whose teeth were suited for a particular kind of food. Such pole-arms we find, too, did not long survive, disappearing just as specialized animals did when their special kind of food gave out."

"’Twas a cutlass swipe, or an ounce of lead, Or a yawing hole in a battered head—"

"Put not thy spirit unto too much paine, In searching secrets farre above thy skill: And know a halbert from a hedging bill."

"Halberds doe properly belong unto the serjeants of companies."

"Four Knaves in Garbs succinct, a trusty Band, Caps on their heads, and Halberds in their hand; And Particolour’d Troops, a shining Train, Draw forth to Combat on the Velvet Plain."

"... Darkness and empty chairs, This was the port that Alexander Home Had come to with his useless cutlass-wounds And tales of Cook, and half-a-crown a day—"

"Whither is Europe’s ancient spirit fled? Where are those valiant tenants of her shore, Who from the warrior bow the strong dart sped, Or with firm hand the rapid pole-axe bore?"

"Villain, art thou the son of Tamburlaine, And fear’st to die, or with a curtle-axe To hew thy flesh, and make a gaping wound?"