A Metrical History of England Or, Recollections, in Rhyme, Of some of the most prominent Features in our National Chronology, from the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Commencement of the Regency, in 1812. In Two Volumes ... By Thomas Dibdin |
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 | A Metrical History of England |  |
“disciplinam modo, sed Exemplum etiam á me petere.”
Livy, Book vii.
“Nor e'en thy virtues, tyrant, shall avail
“To save thy secret soul from nightly fears,
“From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears.
“Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride
“Of the first Edward, scatter'd wild dismay,
“As down the steps of Snowdon's craggy side
“He wound with toil, and march'd his long array.
“Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance,
“To arms! cried Mortimer, and couched his quiv'ring lance.”
Gray.
“Where saints did live and die,
“Where with valiant might
“Do the Christians fight,
“And have won the victory.”
Glee of the Red Cross Knights.
EDWARD THE FIRST.
The Saracen his crescent waves,
And English Edward's gallant band
Seek proud renown, or glorious graves!
Who deem that worship pure and good
Which offers, reeking from the fight,
Hands deeply dipp'd in human blood!
For sinners would have died in vain;
Did his lov'd cause require the sword
Its peaceful doctrine to maintain?
Mistaken impulse wooes the strife,
Proud to be conquer'd, as to kill,
So she but shews contempt of life.
For which the front of death we face;
If fashion bids us court applause
To hesitate were foul disgrace.
Where British Chiefs with Britons met,
His manly hardihood had proved,
Yet deem'd his honour still in debt.
To war's sharp arguments, he fought
Till, from his prowess in the field
They fled, and treach'rous vengeance sought.
Nor less a Zealot had he slain,
But to the Prince he yields his life,
And love's sweet lips the venom drain.
Heralds the solemn tidings bring,
That Edward's father is no more,
And Edward's self is Albion's King.
And clarions loud proclaim afar,
That Edward lives but in the war.
Where dwelt the genuine British race,
Is doom'd to prove stern Edward's hand,
And feel oppression's iron mace.
Helm, and shield, and faulchion ring,
Lightning from each buckler beaming.
Hark! the bards indignant sing,
(Flames around their harp-strings gleaming,)
“Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!”
And Wallia for an instant ceas'd to bleed;
Short was the time the olive branch prevail'd,
Llewellyn, stirr'd by David's honest pride,
Renew'd the strife of nations! fought and fail'd,
And graced the felon block on which he died;
And Edward's laurels wither in their death.
Caernarvon with a royal birth to grace;
And compliments his new made Cambrian friends
With a Welch sovereign of English race.
Edward a fierce and cruel foe.
Appeal to England to award,
Whose title was “maist faire, and gude,”
To reign as Caledonia's Lord;
And Edward's arbitrary arbitration
To Baliol decrees the Scottish nation,
Provided to the English Monarch's throne
The King so named does homage for his own;
Baliol with this, at first, complies,
Then, blushing for his bargain, from it flies,
'Gainst England Baliol ventures to advance;
But England made a sudden truce
With France, and gain'd the aid of Bruce,
Who sided with the English band,
And luckless Baliol lost his land.
For ever to the English crown,
The terror of invading foes.
Cou'd ye my feeble muse inspire,
With soul of feeling, and of fire,
To sing the good, the valiant dead!
Whose patriot aims by men of birth,
(Poor substitute for genuine worth),
Were meanly thwarted, cool'd, and crost,
Till what his talents gain'd their envy lost;
Who after many a hard fought field,
Where English chiefs were fain to yield,
In Falkirk's long remember'd fight,
(His band preferring death to flight,)
When left alone to stem the day,
Still kept his enemies at bay,
And from his native shelt'ring rocks,
Awhile fierce Edward's fury mocks;
Till Fortune, fickle, worthless, blind,
The patriot to his foe resign'd,
The savage foe by honour unconfin'd,
Again bids “hangman's hands” pollute the brave,
And dooms an Hero to a Traitor's grave.
And Stirling battle is by England won;
Still are the Scots determin'd to oppose,
And treat intruding Edward's friends as foes.
Till the revengeful King in proud array,
Swears to make Scotland bend beneath his sway;
Or to exterminate the hardy race,
Who greatly scorn'd to give invasion place:
But Heaven, in all its dispensations just,
Levell'd the haughty monarch with the dust.
Thus Longshanks fell, and thus did he bequeath,
His hate to Scotia with is dying breath.
“Edward, my gallant son,” the monarch cried,
“Carry my bones against the Scots,” and died.
One preach'd reform, Rome thunder'd, he preach'd louder;
From nitre found the way to make gunpowder;
But Bacon was of fellow men a lover,
Nor would the death-fraught recipe discover:
Some manuscripts, he left behind, reveal'd
What his humanity had kept conceal'd.
These lines of “Adam Davie,” serve to show,
(Adam was Marshall styled of Stratford Bow).
“I, to-day, shew mine swyven;
“That ich motte, in one nycht,
“Of a knyghte of myche mycht,
“His name is yhole, Syr Edward the Kyng,
“Prince of Wales, Engelonde, the fair thynge.
“Me motte that he was armed well,
“Both with yrne and with stele;
“And on his helm that was of stele,
“A coroune of gold becomen him wele;
“Before the shryne of St. Edward he stood,
“Myd glad cheere, and mylde of mood.”
Eleanor of Castile, consort to the Prince, is said, at the imminent hazard of her own life, to have preserved that of her husband, by extracting the poison with her lips.
He received at the same time intelligence of his son's death, a boy six years of age, which he received with resignation; but appeared extremely afflicted at the death of his father: some surprise being expressed at this, he observed, the loss of a son he might hope to replace; but that of a father was irreparable. Andrews, &c.
Gray.
It is but justice to observe, that the tale of Edward's cruelty to the Welch Bards is much disputed. Andrews says, “It has little authority on its side, except an obscure tradition, and a hint in the Gwydir MS.”
Edward the Second, born at Caernarvon Castle. The Welch had promised, it is said, to be satisfied with a native prince, who could not speak a word of English, and this ruse of Edward's perfectly succeeded.—Vide The Chapter of Welch Princes at the end of this reign.
Edward was delighted when Baliol, by refusing to go and pay homage, gave him pretence to subdue Scotland. “Ha,” said he, “Le fol felon tal folie fait! S'il ne voulut venir à nous, nous “viendrons a lui.”—“Is he then so great a fool! Well, if he will not come to me, I must e'en go to him.” Fordun.
The wife of Bruce, while at the English court, had the following odd attendant allowed her: “a footboy, sober, and not riotous, to make her bed.” Rymer's Fædera.
She had also three men and three women servants, three greyhounds, plenty of fish and game, and the fairest house in the manor. J. P. Andrews.
At the battle of Dunbar, where Baliol was taken prisoner, and Edward became possessed of the national regalia, together with the fatal stone, on which was engraven,
Invenient Lapidem, Regnare tenentiur ibidem.
Anglice.
Or where they find this stone, the Scots shall reign.”
Camb-Wals.
He called the God of Mercy (a most ill-applied attribute) to witness that he would utterly exterminate the Scotch revolters, which oath was rendered more solemn (according to the strange romantic turn of the age) by the presence of two milk white swans with trappings of gold, which were brought into West-minster-abbey on this occasion, and had their part in the sacred rites of the day. Speéd.
He called the God of Mercy (a most ill-applied attribute) to witness that he would utterly exterminate the Scotch revolters, which oath was rendered more solemn (according to the strange romantic turn of the age) by the presence of two milk white swans with trappings of gold, which were brought into West-minster-abbey on this occasion, and had their part in the sacred rites of the day. Speéd.
[_]
As the Title of PRINCE of WALES has from this
period been given to the eldest sons of the Kings of
England, it may not be intrusive to insert here a
brief but correct Chronology of the Princes of Wales,
from Cadwallader, which was written by the
Author of this Work some years ago, at Caermarthen,
and frequently sung to the air of Collins's
“Chapter of Kings.”
The Chapter of Welch Princes.
As the Title of PRINCE of WALES has from this period been given to the eldest sons of the Kings of England, it may not be intrusive to insert here a brief but correct Chronology of the Princes of Wales, from Cadwallader, which was written by the Author of this Work some years ago, at Caermarthen, and frequently sung to the air of Collins's “Chapter of Kings.”
I
When Cadwallader, tired of staying at home,Was bit by the Monks, and retired to Rome,
Prince Ivor reign'd next, of his subjects the hope,
Till he too went over to visit the Pope;
Yet barring all pother,
Of this, that, or t'other,
All came to be Princes in turn.
II
Then Roderick the first govern'd Cambrian land,And after him Conan took sceptre in hand;
When Rod'rick the Great became Britain's delight.
Yet barring, &c.
III
Sanguine and brief was Prince Anaraud's reign,Till in battle himself and his son were both slain;
(Most reigns at this period with discord were curst,)
Next Edwal succeeded, then Howel the first.
Yet barring, &c.
IV
Iago and Ievaf together bore sway,Who six hundred wolves' heads to England did pay,
Brave Howel the second in war met his death;
And a brother deprived poor Cadwalhan of breath.
Yet barring, &c.
V
Prince Meridith died of a broken heart,Edwal the second by Sweyno's dart;
And Llewellyn by traitors who wanted his place.
Yet barring, &c.
VI
Iago the second by treachery fell,As did Gryffyd the first, tho' he reign'd long and well;
And Blethyn ap Confyn, was murder'd too,
By Trahaern, whom Gryffyd in battle slew.
Thus barring, &c.
VII
Good Gryffyd the second ruled many bright years,And his tomb was bedew'd by a whole nation's tears;
He by Owen was follow'd his offspring and heir;
Next David succeeding, was hurl'd from the chair.
For barring, &c.
VIII
Llewellyn the second, so good and so great,To David the second bequeathed his state;
Till by Edward of England he basely was slain.
Yet barring, &c.
IX
Caernarvon gave birth to the next British Prince,And England's first-born have been Sov'reigns since;
While loyal, affectionate, hardy, and free,
The Welch have remain'd, and for aye may they be.
And Cambria united see all of her Princes
Come safe to be Kings in their turn.
| A Metrical History of England | |