March 25, 2017 25 Comments
“And this is the word of Mary,
The word of the world’s desire
`No more of comfort shall ye get,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher.’
Now it proves the flint against which the iron of resolve is sharpened, and the Saxons rally and they win, even though all had seemed lost. Alfred was not the most charismatic or dramatic of leaders, but he won, and this is why:
And this was the might of Alfred,
At the ending of the way;
That of such smiters, wise or wild,
He was least distant from the child,
Piling the stones all day.
Alfred has faith and he had patience, and he had resilience; he lacked the capacity to despair. In short, he possessed all the Christian virtues. He listened to Our Lady and he understood her advice, and so, at the height of the battle:
The King looked up, and what he saw
Was a great light like death,
For Our Lady stood on the standards rent,
As lonely and as innocent
As when between white walls she went
And the lilies of Nazareth.
Back to London for a bit, mostly because I want you to read this from the £ Daily Mail. Katie Hopkins wrote:
They stood in the centre of Brussels. Row on row.
Hands held high, making hearts to the heavens. Showing the slaughtered they were not forgotten. Reminding themselves they were here with love. Looking to show humanity wins. That love conquers all.
They lay in the centre of London, face down where they fell. Stabbed by a knife, rammed with a car, flung, broken, into the Thames, life bleeding out on the curb.
And the news came thick and fast.
A car rammed deliberately into pedestrians on the bridge. Ten innocents down.
A police officer stabbed at the House of Commons. Confirmed dead.
Another woman now, dead at the scene.
Shots fired. An Asian man rushed to hospital.
A woman, plucked from the water.
And I grew colder. And more tiny.
No anger for me this time. No rage like I’ve felt before. No desperate urge to get out there and scream at the idiots who refused to see this coming.
Not even a nod for the glib idiots who say this will not defeat us, that we will never be broken, that cowardice and terror will not get the better of Britain.
Because, as loyal as I am, as patriotic as I am, as much as my whole younger life was about joining the British military and fighting for my country — I fear we are broken.
Not because of this ghoulish spectacle outside our own Parliament. Not because of the lives rammed apart on the pavement, even as they thought about what was for tea. Or what train home they might make. (…)
As the last life-blood of a police officer ran out across the cobbles, the attacker was being stretchered away in an attempt to save his life.
London is a city so desperate to be seen as tolerant, no news of the injured was released. No clue about who was safe or not.
Liberals convince themselves multiculturalism works because we all die together, too.
An entire city of monkeys: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Blind. Deaf. And dumb. […]
The patriots of the rest of England versus the liberals in this city. The endless tolerance to those who harm us, (while the Home Office tries to shift the focus of public fear to white terror) — versus the millions like me who face the truth, with worried families and hopeless hearts, who feel the country sinking.
We are taken under the cold water by this heavy right foot in the south, a city of lead, so desperately wedded to the multicultural illusion that it can only fight those who love the country the most, blame those who are most proud to be British, and shout racist at the 52%.
She’s right, isn’t she? The government is so busy making sure that they offend no one that they offend only the English (and British) patriot. The rock solid basis of the country since before there was an England. I know they are there, I speak with them most every day, both English and Scottish. They are there, they are ready to do what needs to be done, but HMG won’t let them, and so they will eventually die with the rotters, and the moochers, that have taken over the so-called elite mostly in Londonistan.
The only thing frowned on in
Great Britain these days is pride and patriotism in Britain. We, the cousins, we know what they have done for the world, for we took that heritage and we built “a Citty on a Hill” with it. That city has become the last chance for British Freedom in this world. We did this, with the tools vouchsafed us from England, and now England has lost the ability to use those same tools.
Earlier this week, we featured Dame Vera Lynn singing, “There will always be an England, and England shall be free”. But I increasingly have my doubts about that. I do believe the legend and legacy of English Freedom will live, as will the rights, but I much fear that they will move to the Great Republic as a refuge. William Pitt once commented that America was populated from England at the height of English freedom. It was, and we have, perhaps, kept the inheritance more sacred.
But, while it is late for Britain, and yes perhaps for the United States as well, in both places there are many good men (and women) and true, and we have been here before, many times. But we would do well to remember Sir Winston’s thoughts on the matter.
“If you will not fight for right when you can easily win without blood shed; if you will not fight when your victory is sure and not too costly; you may come to the moment when you will have to fight with all the odds against you and only a precarious chance of survival. There may even be a worse case. You may have to fight when there is no hope of victory, because it is better to perish than to live as slaves.”