The Fall of Cambria in Twenty-Four Books by Joseph Cottle. Second Edition |
 | I, II. |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. | BOOK VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
 | The Fall of Cambria in Twenty-Four Books |  |
131
BOOK VIII.
SCENE, Llewellyn's approach toward Gloster Castle.
His eager march Llewellyn now pursued
Toward Gloster's towers, yet Snowdon left he not,
(So precious in each dark extremity,
Whose very atmosphere was as a shield,
Screening his head) save with a passing sigh,
And faint anticipation, leagued with ill.
Whilst on his way, tho' nursing high designs,
Oftimes he turn'd, to mark some pinnacle,
('Mid clouds, grey sailing) that majestic gazed
O'er many a realm. It seem'd to call him back.
It had a cheering voice articulate,
A sweet maternal whisper mild, which quench'd,
With sudden and mysterious power, all wrath,
All shapes of war, discordant images,
And raised within his heart, pure thoughts and high.
Like one, by hate inspired, by passion roused,
Or, in the whirl and tempest of such cares,
As, mist-like, hang on this terraqueous ball,
When he looks up and sees the tranquil sky,
The fair broad moon, some stately planet near,
And silence spread thro' all the firmament,
His spirit, from the grovelling dreams of earth,
Rises disdainful, and awhile he feels,
(Not without shame and self-accusing pangs)
A calming influence—a sympathy,
Soul-lifting, with the forms that round him shine.
In this dissolving hour of tenderness,
Llewellyn felt dismay. His soul, that erst
Had dared, with courage indiscriminate,
Hardiest adventure, now, renounced its post.
Tho' his resolves were firm, yet, at this hour,
Snowdon appear'd a friend, whom he forsook,
Not needful; and as faint it died away,
To soothe the sense of parting tho' but brief,
One gentle word he spake warm from his heart.
(Something he must advance, what, heeding small)
“Farewell,” he cried, “thou granite Lord supreme!
“Remembrances of joy and scenes no more,
“The spring-tide of my being, thou dost wake.
“The sigh will rise. Whilst mortal things, with men,
“Like ocean's sands, change in an endless round,
“Thou, stedfast, pride of mountains, art the same—
“The Ancient Resident. In forming thee,
“Before the plastic word of the Most High,
“Nature, the mighty architect, put forth
“He loftiest nerve, heaping huge crags sublime
“Each on the last, that bold incursions make
“Into Heaven's pure empyreal vault, and still
“(Laughing at storms, molesting not to thee)
“Thine head, an everlasting monument,
“August, shall pierce the skies, till ravenous fires,
“Destruction's engines, from their central caves,
“Burst, bellowing forth, and from existence blot,
“All we behold.” This said, new thoughts arose.
Gloster absorbs his spirit. On he hastes;
Each purpose of his soul; intent, to heap
Ruin upon that pile, where, as he deem'd,
Savage Marauders dwelt, and Ruffians fierce,
Preying on Cambria, and to rescue her—
The Maid, whose image, ever on his heart,
At morn and noon and night, dwelt, paramount,
Absorbing all, but the stern patriot's aims.
Toward Gloster's towers, yet Snowdon left he not,
(So precious in each dark extremity,
Whose very atmosphere was as a shield,
Screening his head) save with a passing sigh,
And faint anticipation, leagued with ill.
Whilst on his way, tho' nursing high designs,
Oftimes he turn'd, to mark some pinnacle,
('Mid clouds, grey sailing) that majestic gazed
O'er many a realm. It seem'd to call him back.
It had a cheering voice articulate,
A sweet maternal whisper mild, which quench'd,
With sudden and mysterious power, all wrath,
132
And raised within his heart, pure thoughts and high.
Like one, by hate inspired, by passion roused,
Or, in the whirl and tempest of such cares,
As, mist-like, hang on this terraqueous ball,
When he looks up and sees the tranquil sky,
The fair broad moon, some stately planet near,
And silence spread thro' all the firmament,
His spirit, from the grovelling dreams of earth,
Rises disdainful, and awhile he feels,
(Not without shame and self-accusing pangs)
A calming influence—a sympathy,
Soul-lifting, with the forms that round him shine.
In this dissolving hour of tenderness,
Llewellyn felt dismay. His soul, that erst
Had dared, with courage indiscriminate,
Hardiest adventure, now, renounced its post.
Tho' his resolves were firm, yet, at this hour,
Snowdon appear'd a friend, whom he forsook,
Not needful; and as faint it died away,
To soothe the sense of parting tho' but brief,
One gentle word he spake warm from his heart.
(Something he must advance, what, heeding small)
“Farewell,” he cried, “thou granite Lord supreme!
“Remembrances of joy and scenes no more,
“The spring-tide of my being, thou dost wake.
“The sigh will rise. Whilst mortal things, with men,
“Like ocean's sands, change in an endless round,
“Thou, stedfast, pride of mountains, art the same—
“The Ancient Resident. In forming thee,
133
“Nature, the mighty architect, put forth
“He loftiest nerve, heaping huge crags sublime
“Each on the last, that bold incursions make
“Into Heaven's pure empyreal vault, and still
“(Laughing at storms, molesting not to thee)
“Thine head, an everlasting monument,
“August, shall pierce the skies, till ravenous fires,
“Destruction's engines, from their central caves,
“Burst, bellowing forth, and from existence blot,
“All we behold.” This said, new thoughts arose.
Gloster absorbs his spirit. On he hastes;
Each purpose of his soul; intent, to heap
Ruin upon that pile, where, as he deem'd,
Savage Marauders dwelt, and Ruffians fierce,
Preying on Cambria, and to rescue her—
The Maid, whose image, ever on his heart,
At morn and noon and night, dwelt, paramount,
Absorbing all, but the stern patriot's aims.
Day after day, forcing his toilsome course
Thro' woods, and forests deep, Llewellyn pass'd.
Patient of toil his army follow'd him.
The forest pride, oaks, ancient, numberless,
Peer'd all around, which e'en the furious blast
Scarce moved; their giant limbs, stretch'd wide and far,
Scorning each rude assault; or, if they cast
Their undulating shadow, o'er the trees,
Rising beneath, majestic but for them,
And bending with each gentler wind that blew,
Sullen they waved, and slow, ill deeming it
That aught should move their stedfastness, so long
A barrier to the storm, smiling serene,
Whilst all around them, in wild tumult cast,
Reel'd to and fro.—So some proud Admiral,
Sent by Britannia to earth's farthest shore,
Forces his way amid the bellowing deep.
Whilst humbler keels, alternate, rise and fall,
And winged outrage hovers in their shrouds,
He sails serene, breaking the boisterous surge,
His head, high soaring, 'mid the war of winds;
And if, in some regardless hour, he stoops,
Grace in his port, it is the dignity
Of bending monarch.
Thro' woods, and forests deep, Llewellyn pass'd.
Patient of toil his army follow'd him.
The forest pride, oaks, ancient, numberless,
Peer'd all around, which e'en the furious blast
Scarce moved; their giant limbs, stretch'd wide and far,
Scorning each rude assault; or, if they cast
Their undulating shadow, o'er the trees,
Rising beneath, majestic but for them,
And bending with each gentler wind that blew,
134
That aught should move their stedfastness, so long
A barrier to the storm, smiling serene,
Whilst all around them, in wild tumult cast,
Reel'd to and fro.—So some proud Admiral,
Sent by Britannia to earth's farthest shore,
Forces his way amid the bellowing deep.
Whilst humbler keels, alternate, rise and fall,
And winged outrage hovers in their shrouds,
He sails serene, breaking the boisterous surge,
His head, high soaring, 'mid the war of winds;
And if, in some regardless hour, he stoops,
Grace in his port, it is the dignity
Of bending monarch.
Many a towering hill
Before him rose, wood-crown'd, with here and there
A bleak rude rock between, whose head disdain'd
All covering but Heaven's canopy. The scene,
Wildly harmonious, in Llewellyn's heart
Sank deep. Obtruding thoughts, and images,
That seem'd congenial to the place, would rise.
He mourn'd the fate which plunged him thus in strife,
Th' imperious circumstance, that call'd his mind
From scenes, in early childhood, first impress'd
With character of joy, and still endued
With vivid charms, peculiar, where his heart,
Far from a noisy world, could find repose.
Solemnity his inmost soul pervades.
Sighing he cried.
Before him rose, wood-crown'd, with here and there
A bleak rude rock between, whose head disdain'd
All covering but Heaven's canopy. The scene,
Wildly harmonious, in Llewellyn's heart
Sank deep. Obtruding thoughts, and images,
That seem'd congenial to the place, would rise.
He mourn'd the fate which plunged him thus in strife,
Th' imperious circumstance, that call'd his mind
From scenes, in early childhood, first impress'd
With character of joy, and still endued
With vivid charms, peculiar, where his heart,
Far from a noisy world, could find repose.
Solemnity his inmost soul pervades.
Sighing he cried.
135
“Poor pilgrims in a world,
“Fading away, ourselves fast passing on
“From shadows to reality, we see
“Our precious hours, waning before the moon,
“Yet, our brief span of being, dedicate
“To wars and tumults and corroding strifes,
“Closing our eyes, from Nature and from God.
“Phantoms that cross our way, eager we seek;
“The faintest shadow of the plain, pursue
“With eager intellect, then drop at last
“Into forgetfulness, and leave the chase,
“Inglorious, to new ephemeræ,
“Who, in wild dreams, like their progenitors,
“Just flutter and then die. Great Lord of all!
“Establish thou my throne! Let me repress
“Unjust aggressors on my native land,
“Then, from the cares and duties of a crown,
“Oft will I turn, and with a sober joy,
“Think what I am and whither I am bound,
“And tranquillize my mind with scenes like these.”
“Fading away, ourselves fast passing on
“From shadows to reality, we see
“Our precious hours, waning before the moon,
“Yet, our brief span of being, dedicate
“To wars and tumults and corroding strifes,
“Closing our eyes, from Nature and from God.
“Phantoms that cross our way, eager we seek;
“The faintest shadow of the plain, pursue
“With eager intellect, then drop at last
“Into forgetfulness, and leave the chase,
“Inglorious, to new ephemeræ,
“Who, in wild dreams, like their progenitors,
“Just flutter and then die. Great Lord of all!
“Establish thou my throne! Let me repress
“Unjust aggressors on my native land,
“Then, from the cares and duties of a crown,
“Oft will I turn, and with a sober joy,
“Think what I am and whither I am bound,
“And tranquillize my mind with scenes like these.”
It was a goodly and refreshing sight.
The children of the forest, where their sires,
In ages past, had flourish'd, smiling rose.
When spring drew near a sumptuous garb was theirs,
Verdant, till Autumn's less congenial breath
Brought forth the waning hue, brown, red, and gold;
Sad presage of decay. When the voice came,
(Commingled with the first rough wintry blast)
That call'd for death and fortitude—a sleep—
An absence from all borrow'd ornament,
With patience and in silence, each dismiss'd,
Fast falling off, his many-coloured garb,
And stood prepared, his limbs unbound and bare,
Unshrinking, to sustain his Pall of Snow.
Yet was there hope, another spring was near!
The children of the forest, where their sires,
In ages past, had flourish'd, smiling rose.
When spring drew near a sumptuous garb was theirs,
Verdant, till Autumn's less congenial breath
Brought forth the waning hue, brown, red, and gold;
Sad presage of decay. When the voice came,
(Commingled with the first rough wintry blast)
That call'd for death and fortitude—a sleep—
136
With patience and in silence, each dismiss'd,
Fast falling off, his many-coloured garb,
And stood prepared, his limbs unbound and bare,
Unshrinking, to sustain his Pall of Snow.
Yet was there hope, another spring was near!
Oh ye! who little know your high behests,
Your lofty designations, here regard
An eloquent, tho' silent Monitor!
Shall He—the World's Great Author, who at first
All secret forms and things, fashion'd and ranged,
Tho' intricate, with wisdom infinite;—
Shall he call forth, from momentary sleep,
(Healthful to Nature) the inanimate—
The sluggish and unconscious form, and bid
(To reason's ear, with growing freshness fraught)
The Army of the Forest, clap their hands,
And shout, in ecstasy, “Glory to God;”—
Shall he this living miracle perform,
Yet leave his last great work, unfatherly,
To wrap himself in blank forgetfulness,
And when our eyes first open, to such scenes
As Angels' hearts entrance, extinguish Hope,
Sweet Star! and plunge us in eternal night?—
Summer, with his thick foliage, may obscure
The oak's stupendous frame, parrying the blast,
Nor eye profane, doubt the machinery,
Crouching, beneath, dependant and sublime.
Emblem, tho' faint, of that far better part,
That spiritual body, which ere long shall stand
In naked majesty, when Man puts off
Life's transient dress, this garb of fading hue.
Say, voluntary mourners! who, for light,
Earnest inquire, whilst the bright firmament
Teems with refulgence, shall Omnipotence,
Who in man's nostril breath'd the breath of life,
Endued him with a soul, vast as the skies,
With feelings that disdain all mortal bound,
And pant for immortality, all else
Sinking beneath the horizon of his hopes;—
Shall he unveil heaven's spangled canopy,
And pierce his spirit with august desires—
Unutterable thoughts and aspirations,
When the fond moment of fulfilment comes
To plunge it in despair?—raising the light,
For toiling mariner, so long desired,
Which safety promises, but leads to death?
The dark suggestion, upward borne from hell,
Cast it away! Disdainful, plunge thy foe,
Into some dark and permanent abyss,
No more to rise, and cast shades ominous
O'er all beyond the barrier of the grave.
Your lofty designations, here regard
An eloquent, tho' silent Monitor!
Shall He—the World's Great Author, who at first
All secret forms and things, fashion'd and ranged,
Tho' intricate, with wisdom infinite;—
Shall he call forth, from momentary sleep,
(Healthful to Nature) the inanimate—
The sluggish and unconscious form, and bid
(To reason's ear, with growing freshness fraught)
The Army of the Forest, clap their hands,
And shout, in ecstasy, “Glory to God;”—
Shall he this living miracle perform,
Yet leave his last great work, unfatherly,
To wrap himself in blank forgetfulness,
And when our eyes first open, to such scenes
As Angels' hearts entrance, extinguish Hope,
Sweet Star! and plunge us in eternal night?—
Summer, with his thick foliage, may obscure
The oak's stupendous frame, parrying the blast,
Nor eye profane, doubt the machinery,
Crouching, beneath, dependant and sublime.
Emblem, tho' faint, of that far better part,
137
In naked majesty, when Man puts off
Life's transient dress, this garb of fading hue.
Say, voluntary mourners! who, for light,
Earnest inquire, whilst the bright firmament
Teems with refulgence, shall Omnipotence,
Who in man's nostril breath'd the breath of life,
Endued him with a soul, vast as the skies,
With feelings that disdain all mortal bound,
And pant for immortality, all else
Sinking beneath the horizon of his hopes;—
Shall he unveil heaven's spangled canopy,
And pierce his spirit with august desires—
Unutterable thoughts and aspirations,
When the fond moment of fulfilment comes
To plunge it in despair?—raising the light,
For toiling mariner, so long desired,
Which safety promises, but leads to death?
The dark suggestion, upward borne from hell,
Cast it away! Disdainful, plunge thy foe,
Into some dark and permanent abyss,
No more to rise, and cast shades ominous
O'er all beyond the barrier of the grave.
We yet shall live! The winter of our days—
Must come! This mortal garb, this vehicle,
Where the ethereal spirit dwells awhile,
Must perish and lie low, but he who robes
The gorgeous forest, from the sleep of death
Our heads will raise! Another Spring is near,
Another and a nobler! Hear, O earth!
This solemn truth, alike, on all sides round,
Nature, in whisper, teaches, faintly heard,
But the more certain Word of Prophecy
Scatters each shade! The morning mists retire!
The sun ascends! The doubtful is made plain!
And man, in his great stake, rests satisfied,
Pouring the prayer of thankfulness to Heaven.
Must come! This mortal garb, this vehicle,
Where the ethereal spirit dwells awhile,
Must perish and lie low, but he who robes
The gorgeous forest, from the sleep of death
Our heads will raise! Another Spring is near,
138
This solemn truth, alike, on all sides round,
Nature, in whisper, teaches, faintly heard,
But the more certain Word of Prophecy
Scatters each shade! The morning mists retire!
The sun ascends! The doubtful is made plain!
And man, in his great stake, rests satisfied,
Pouring the prayer of thankfulness to Heaven.
Still thro' the forest, forcing ardent way,
Llewellyn pass'd, where seldom woodman's voice,
Roused Echo, from her choral cell, or joined,
In cadence soft, harmonious minstrelsy
With sylvan choristers, happy and gay!
There seldom sound was heard, save wood-note wild,
Or the vex'd wind, obstructed in its course,
Or storm, loud-bellowing, or the thunder deep,
Rending heaven's concave, or the distant sound
Of mountain-rolling cataract, all white.
Creation's sweetest note there seldom came,
The human voice angelic, in the nerve
Of fellow-kind, kindling divinest joy.—
Is it the voice of wind? or bird? or man?
A sound, as from a harp, distant, is heard!
It dies away.
Llewellyn pass'd, where seldom woodman's voice,
Roused Echo, from her choral cell, or joined,
In cadence soft, harmonious minstrelsy
With sylvan choristers, happy and gay!
There seldom sound was heard, save wood-note wild,
Or the vex'd wind, obstructed in its course,
Or storm, loud-bellowing, or the thunder deep,
Rending heaven's concave, or the distant sound
Of mountain-rolling cataract, all white.
Creation's sweetest note there seldom came,
The human voice angelic, in the nerve
Of fellow-kind, kindling divinest joy.—
Is it the voice of wind? or bird? or man?
A sound, as from a harp, distant, is heard!
It dies away.
Now to a craggy vale
Slow, they descend. It seem'd the lonely spot
Where Nature, after overwhelming toil,
Retired to rest, and there, in secrecy,
Stretch'd her fair limbs, unrobed—so bleak, so wild.
Both far and near were seen, wood and wild rock,
Save where a stream appear'd, as some huge snake,
Winding its course, thro' trees and towering crags,
Now lost, then manifest, and urging on,
Like earnest traveller, his unknown way.
Upon this waste of ages, sand and stone,
And pebbles numberless (so long unmoved
That the thin blade, in its green infancy,
Peep'd here and there, enjoying its brief hour,
Till the next torrent from the mountains came;)
E'en here Llewellyn pitch'd his evening tent.
Slow, they descend. It seem'd the lonely spot
Where Nature, after overwhelming toil,
Retired to rest, and there, in secrecy,
139
Both far and near were seen, wood and wild rock,
Save where a stream appear'd, as some huge snake,
Winding its course, thro' trees and towering crags,
Now lost, then manifest, and urging on,
Like earnest traveller, his unknown way.
Upon this waste of ages, sand and stone,
And pebbles numberless (so long unmoved
That the thin blade, in its green infancy,
Peep'd here and there, enjoying its brief hour,
Till the next torrent from the mountains came;)
E'en here Llewellyn pitch'd his evening tent.
In the faint distance, lo! a form appears.
Now, slow, beside the water-course he comes.
His long white beard, his garb of frosty hue,
The patient firmness of his tread, unmcved
By warrior and bright lance, all speak a man,
High in the orders of intelligence.—
A Bard! His harp he bears! Reverenc'd of all,
The ranks retire as he, slow, passes by;
And onward to the Prince he walks. No voice
Hails one, whose presence gladdens every heart.
Llewellyn's tent he finds. He enters in.
Cambria's high Lord, bends at the reverend form.
Thus he address'd him. “Bard! thy country's pride,
“A spirit had surprised me less than thou.—
“'Mid these wild scenes, (the barrier of our land,
“Effectual, firm, where scarce the human foot,
“So I believed, had wander'd, till my own,
“On daring enterprise, forced its bold way.)
“How camst thou?—With the ceaseless shapes of war
“My soul is weary. Evening shadows round,
“I would forget the rough and stormy scene,
“And a brief solace find, learning from thee,
“What joys they are, and thoughts habitual,
“Which thus, in lonely musings, led thee here.
“My helm is off, my torque is cast aside.
“I am a man, thy fellow and thy friend.”
Now, slow, beside the water-course he comes.
His long white beard, his garb of frosty hue,
The patient firmness of his tread, unmcved
By warrior and bright lance, all speak a man,
High in the orders of intelligence.—
A Bard! His harp he bears! Reverenc'd of all,
The ranks retire as he, slow, passes by;
And onward to the Prince he walks. No voice
Hails one, whose presence gladdens every heart.
Llewellyn's tent he finds. He enters in.
Cambria's high Lord, bends at the reverend form.
Thus he address'd him. “Bard! thy country's pride,
“A spirit had surprised me less than thou.—
“'Mid these wild scenes, (the barrier of our land,
“Effectual, firm, where scarce the human foot,
“So I believed, had wander'd, till my own,
140
“How camst thou?—With the ceaseless shapes of war
“My soul is weary. Evening shadows round,
“I would forget the rough and stormy scene,
“And a brief solace find, learning from thee,
“What joys they are, and thoughts habitual,
“Which thus, in lonely musings, led thee here.
“My helm is off, my torque is cast aside.
“I am a man, thy fellow and thy friend.”
The Bard replied. “Prince, father of thy realm
“My name is Lhyrarch. Thou dost deign to ask
“(In this contemplative and soothing hour,).
“My state and habitudes; know, 'mid these hills,
“And by the side of the loud waterfall,
“Foaming along, alone, I love to stray,
“To muse in silence, to survey the cloud
“Sailing thro' air, portentous, lowering, dark,
“Then hear the wind, then mark the furious storm
“Fiercely assault some towering pinnacle,
“Buried in mists and clouds; anon, survey
“The rushing torrent, bearing in its course
“Deep-rooted trees, and rocks, precipitous,
“Weltering along the channel of the flood.
“I love to lift my head amid the storm,
“And, on some brow, a ghostly spectacle,
“Mark the blue lightnings, bursting, 'neath my feet,
“With quick-repeated flash, then, 'mid the gloom,
“Succeeding, and that veils all forms in night,
“Hear the loud thunder, from th' aspiring hills,
“Reverberate, stilling the mountain winds,
“And bearing far the wrath of Deity.
“These scenes, the rougher movements of the soul.
“Now, in some mood, calm, thoughtful and alone,
“I love, upon a still and star-light eve,
“To wander forth; to mark the hosts of Heaven;
“To view the tranquil moon, sailing on high,
“Sole Empress, thro' the spangled canopy;—
“To mark surrounding forms, sleeping serene
“In the mild beam, high hill and mountain bare,
“Tipp'd with faint light, and rock, and drowsy stream,
“Murmuring along, with here and there, some wave,
“Unseen, tho' nigh, sounding with sudden dash,
“Harmonious, gliding o'er its rocky bed;
“Whilst oft (by th' listener heard) in louder note
“Th' up-leaping fish, urged from his limpid haunt,
“By passing night-fly, or the feathery moth,
“Moves the dull air; no other sound, to break
“The awful stillness, save night's tuneful bird,
“Or, faintly, at long intervals, the wolf,
“Shaggy and gaunt, that with a ravenous howl
“Scares the wide forests: then the plaintive harp,
“Gently, I sweep; its solemn sounds augment
“Night's calming influence, and, a sanctity
“O'er all things cast, mountain and wood and stream.
“No pamper'd appetites, I seek alone
“Nature's plain fare, my drink, the crystal stream,
“My food, divided with the birds of heaven.
“A world of toil and turmoil, once I knew,
“Corroding and ungenial; better form'd
“For silent meditation, and the walk
“Of meek-eyed peace and mild humanity.
“The shade I loved, to touch the chord unseen;
“Tranquil, to meet the fleeting forms of mind
“Which haunted me, new-visaged visitants,
“Both 'mid the day and at the hour of night,—
“When thro' all worlds imagination roam'd,
“And shaped ideal things and call'd them true,
“And bathed in holy phantasies. To wake
“New strains, with harp and voice, and till thy soil,
“O Poesy! was my peculiar joy,
“Where at the last, haply, some humble flowers,
“I hoped might rise, (courting no idle gaze,
“E'en for no alien pleasure, for itself!)—
“The daisy, or the valley's spotless pride,
“And one perchance, with bloom of amaranth.
“No more involved in tempest, I survey
“The wild careering of the multitude
“Unmoved, save with concern and pity true,
“Which ever thrives for all my fellow-kind,
“Yet, their pursuits, soul withering, I behold,
“Far off, like one who hath small sympathies
“With common things. Honors and cankering gold,
“The smiles or frowns of the world's mighty men,
“I heed them not. My harp is my delight,
“God my support, and Nature a rich feast
“On which I banquet and find nourishment.
“Prince! go thy way! Heaven prosper thy designs!
“Make this thine arm, strong to subdue thy foes,
“And give our land, peace and prosperity.
“Now for my wanderings wild. All joy be thine!”
“My name is Lhyrarch. Thou dost deign to ask
“(In this contemplative and soothing hour,).
“My state and habitudes; know, 'mid these hills,
“And by the side of the loud waterfall,
“Foaming along, alone, I love to stray,
“To muse in silence, to survey the cloud
“Sailing thro' air, portentous, lowering, dark,
141
“Fiercely assault some towering pinnacle,
“Buried in mists and clouds; anon, survey
“The rushing torrent, bearing in its course
“Deep-rooted trees, and rocks, precipitous,
“Weltering along the channel of the flood.
“I love to lift my head amid the storm,
“And, on some brow, a ghostly spectacle,
“Mark the blue lightnings, bursting, 'neath my feet,
“With quick-repeated flash, then, 'mid the gloom,
“Succeeding, and that veils all forms in night,
“Hear the loud thunder, from th' aspiring hills,
“Reverberate, stilling the mountain winds,
“And bearing far the wrath of Deity.
“These scenes, the rougher movements of the soul.
“Now, in some mood, calm, thoughtful and alone,
“I love, upon a still and star-light eve,
“To wander forth; to mark the hosts of Heaven;
“To view the tranquil moon, sailing on high,
“Sole Empress, thro' the spangled canopy;—
“To mark surrounding forms, sleeping serene
“In the mild beam, high hill and mountain bare,
“Tipp'd with faint light, and rock, and drowsy stream,
“Murmuring along, with here and there, some wave,
“Unseen, tho' nigh, sounding with sudden dash,
“Harmonious, gliding o'er its rocky bed;
“Whilst oft (by th' listener heard) in louder note
“Th' up-leaping fish, urged from his limpid haunt,
“By passing night-fly, or the feathery moth,
“Moves the dull air; no other sound, to break
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“Or, faintly, at long intervals, the wolf,
“Shaggy and gaunt, that with a ravenous howl
“Scares the wide forests: then the plaintive harp,
“Gently, I sweep; its solemn sounds augment
“Night's calming influence, and, a sanctity
“O'er all things cast, mountain and wood and stream.
“No pamper'd appetites, I seek alone
“Nature's plain fare, my drink, the crystal stream,
“My food, divided with the birds of heaven.
“A world of toil and turmoil, once I knew,
“Corroding and ungenial; better form'd
“For silent meditation, and the walk
“Of meek-eyed peace and mild humanity.
“The shade I loved, to touch the chord unseen;
“Tranquil, to meet the fleeting forms of mind
“Which haunted me, new-visaged visitants,
“Both 'mid the day and at the hour of night,—
“When thro' all worlds imagination roam'd,
“And shaped ideal things and call'd them true,
“And bathed in holy phantasies. To wake
“New strains, with harp and voice, and till thy soil,
“O Poesy! was my peculiar joy,
“Where at the last, haply, some humble flowers,
“I hoped might rise, (courting no idle gaze,
“E'en for no alien pleasure, for itself!)—
“The daisy, or the valley's spotless pride,
“And one perchance, with bloom of amaranth.
“No more involved in tempest, I survey
“The wild careering of the multitude
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“Which ever thrives for all my fellow-kind,
“Yet, their pursuits, soul withering, I behold,
“Far off, like one who hath small sympathies
“With common things. Honors and cankering gold,
“The smiles or frowns of the world's mighty men,
“I heed them not. My harp is my delight,
“God my support, and Nature a rich feast
“On which I banquet and find nourishment.
“Prince! go thy way! Heaven prosper thy designs!
“Make this thine arm, strong to subdue thy foes,
“And give our land, peace and prosperity.
“Now for my wanderings wild. All joy be thine!”
“Stop!” cried Llewellyn. “Lhyrarch! hear thy Prince!
“Thy feelings are my own. I honor thee!
“From infancy, my heart hath reverence felt
“For bard and bardic lore, for harp and song.
“I need thy soothing strains. 'Mid Aber's walls
“Hence, shall thy dwelling be.”
“Thy feelings are my own. I honor thee!
“From infancy, my heart hath reverence felt
“For bard and bardic lore, for harp and song.
“I need thy soothing strains. 'Mid Aber's walls
“Hence, shall thy dwelling be.”
“Nay!” Lhyrarch cried,
“My dwelling is these woods and mountains wild.
“Form'd for no courtier, nor a courtier's slave,
“I worship independence. Fare thee well!”
“Withhold!” Llewellyn cried. One argument,
“Shall with conviction strike upon thy heart—
“Thy Country needs thy service. I am now,
“Waging with Edward, England's haughty Prince,
“A man-devouring war. Before the fight,
“What shall not bard achieve? Be thou at hand.
“As other harps inspired our ancestors
“To feats of glory, so thy song shall rouse
“Cynetha's sons and vengeance be their cry.
“This service o'er! Shouldst thou with spirit firm
“Still love the mountain and the green-wood shade,
“Return, and with thee bear thy country's praise.”
“My dwelling is these woods and mountains wild.
“Form'd for no courtier, nor a courtier's slave,
“I worship independence. Fare thee well!”
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“Shall with conviction strike upon thy heart—
“Thy Country needs thy service. I am now,
“Waging with Edward, England's haughty Prince,
“A man-devouring war. Before the fight,
“What shall not bard achieve? Be thou at hand.
“As other harps inspired our ancestors
“To feats of glory, so thy song shall rouse
“Cynetha's sons and vengeance be their cry.
“This service o'er! Shouldst thou with spirit firm
“Still love the mountain and the green-wood shade,
“Return, and with thee bear thy country's praise.”
Lhyrarch exclaim'd “I yield! Now am I bound,
“In Mona's Isle, to join our brotherhood
“(The Harps of Cambria) on th' appointed day,
“Where the loud song will rise. That hour pass'd by,
“Most prized and choicest of the year, to meet
“Thee, hastening from thy victor enterprise,
“Joyful, my feet shall turn.” Llewellyn cried.
“A bard and not a song! Weary and sad,
“Before we part, cheer me with one sweet note,
“And then farewell.” Lhyrarch no answer gave.
Awhile he lean'd, pondering on lofty themes;
When, rising, with a look, calm, dignified,
Austere, terrific, that half raised the doubt
Whether it were a man, or spirit veil'd;
He swept the string.
“In Mona's Isle, to join our brotherhood
“(The Harps of Cambria) on th' appointed day,
“Where the loud song will rise. That hour pass'd by,
“Most prized and choicest of the year, to meet
“Thee, hastening from thy victor enterprise,
“Joyful, my feet shall turn.” Llewellyn cried.
“A bard and not a song! Weary and sad,
“Before we part, cheer me with one sweet note,
“And then farewell.” Lhyrarch no answer gave.
Awhile he lean'd, pondering on lofty themes;
When, rising, with a look, calm, dignified,
Austere, terrific, that half raised the doubt
Whether it were a man, or spirit veil'd;
He swept the string.
Lhyrarch's harp, unknown to guile,
In the Patriot's praise shall swell.
Every Kingdom, every Isle,
On the planet where we dwell,
Boasts its Lords, in long array,
With titles high, and trappings gay,
But the proudest man is he,
Who, in slavery's evil hour,
Grapples with the tyrant's power,
And would set his country free.
In the Patriot's praise shall swell.
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On the planet where we dwell,
Boasts its Lords, in long array,
With titles high, and trappings gay,
But the proudest man is he,
Who, in slavery's evil hour,
Grapples with the tyrant's power,
And would set his country free.
The sun that lights our Earth is fair,
And lovely is creation's face:
Where'er we look, on sea or air,
Fresh beauties, rising still, we trace,
Whilst flowers, with their ten-thousand dyes,
On every side spontaneous rise!
Ah! who, when laughing life began,
E'er deem'd this world, so sweet, so mild,
The element of tempests wild,
Where Man the torment is of Man!
And lovely is creation's face:
Where'er we look, on sea or air,
Fresh beauties, rising still, we trace,
Whilst flowers, with their ten-thousand dyes,
On every side spontaneous rise!
Ah! who, when laughing life began,
E'er deem'd this world, so sweet, so mild,
The element of tempests wild,
Where Man the torment is of Man!
The Strong, who should delight to bless,
Wring, from the Weak, the bitter tear;
No little nook of quietness,
Where wrong and outrage disappear!
If, on the soil we call our own,
No blood-drunk despot fill the throne,
Some monster, in the human form,
From far, with his ferocious band,
To strew with wrecks the happy land,
Advances, like the winter storm.
Wring, from the Weak, the bitter tear;
No little nook of quietness,
Where wrong and outrage disappear!
If, on the soil we call our own,
No blood-drunk despot fill the throne,
Some monster, in the human form,
From far, with his ferocious band,
To strew with wrecks the happy land,
Advances, like the winter storm.
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High Heaven, for all the ills that are,
Provides some cure, our father kind!
He saw oppression mount his car,
Vengeance before and death behind;
And, to resist his baneful sway,
Call'd the Patriot into day!
He, warring with corruption's brood,
Heedless of calumny the while,
Moves on with a disdainful smile,
And thinks, and speaks, and acts, for others' good.
Provides some cure, our father kind!
He saw oppression mount his car,
Vengeance before and death behind;
And, to resist his baneful sway,
Call'd the Patriot into day!
He, warring with corruption's brood,
Heedless of calumny the while,
Moves on with a disdainful smile,
And thinks, and speaks, and acts, for others' good.
The health and strength of every land
Are they whom truth and justice guide;
A small, but an intrepid band,
By frown nor interest turn'd aside;
Thro' mists, who with an eagle's eye,
Their country's friend or foe descry;
And, oft as base-born sons appear,
With strenuous and effectual might,
Drag forth their victims to the light,
Scorning all perils in their great career.
Are they whom truth and justice guide;
A small, but an intrepid band,
By frown nor interest turn'd aside;
Thro' mists, who with an eagle's eye,
Their country's friend or foe descry;
And, oft as base-born sons appear,
With strenuous and effectual might,
Drag forth their victims to the light,
Scorning all perils in their great career.
What gratitude to those we owe
Who dared the roughest road to tread,—
Our valiant Sires!—now mouldering low!
In many a strife, their blood who shed,
That we their Offspring, might be free,
And taste the sweets of Liberty!
That Gift, the purchase of the Brave,
To all our Children we will send,
Their heritage till time doth end!—
The Blessing which their Fathers gave!
Who dared the roughest road to tread,—
Our valiant Sires!—now mouldering low!
In many a strife, their blood who shed,
That we their Offspring, might be free,
And taste the sweets of Liberty!
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To all our Children we will send,
Their heritage till time doth end!—
The Blessing which their Fathers gave!
If men, in humbler station born,
Thus strew with gems their mortal way;
What clouds refulgent him adorn,
Who rises like the Orb of Day—
The Patriot Prince!—with liberal hand,
Who scatters blessings round his land;—
On equity who rears his throne,—
Disdains each low, each sordid end,
Proclaims himself his People's Friend,
And from their happiness derives his own.
Thus strew with gems their mortal way;
What clouds refulgent him adorn,
Who rises like the Orb of Day—
The Patriot Prince!—with liberal hand,
Who scatters blessings round his land;—
On equity who rears his throne,—
Disdains each low, each sordid end,
Proclaims himself his People's Friend,
And from their happiness derives his own.
O Prince! if I my ardour chide,
And curb what every string would tell;
It is that thou art satisfied
In planning right, in doing well.
To fire thy spirit, nerve thy hand,
The Noble Dead before thee stand!
In elder days, when men arose
To quench Old Cambria's hope in night,
Thy Ancestors, in glory bright,
Triumphant scatter'd all her foes!
And curb what every string would tell;
It is that thou art satisfied
In planning right, in doing well.
To fire thy spirit, nerve thy hand,
The Noble Dead before thee stand!
In elder days, when men arose
To quench Old Cambria's hope in night,
Thy Ancestors, in glory bright,
Triumphant scatter'd all her foes!
Impetuous, as our torrents, rise!
Llewellyn! Guardian of our Name;
The Saxon, and his threat, despise,
And strengthen still our Tower of Fame!
Whilst England's Slaves pollute our soil,
Thou scornest danger, scornest toil.
I see, aloft, thy Scabbard thrown!
August, let Cambria yet appear,
Bulwark'd with the Hero's Spear,
Her Genius thou, and all her praise thy own!
Llewellyn! Guardian of our Name;
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And strengthen still our Tower of Fame!
Whilst England's Slaves pollute our soil,
Thou scornest danger, scornest toil.
I see, aloft, thy Scabbard thrown!
August, let Cambria yet appear,
Bulwark'd with the Hero's Spear,
Her Genius thou, and all her praise thy own!
Thus having sung, retiring from the tent,
Lhyrarch exclaim'd, “Farewell!” When the Prince woke
From his delirious trance, alone, he stood,
While deep around the evening shadows fell.
Lhyrarch exclaim'd, “Farewell!” When the Prince woke
From his delirious trance, alone, he stood,
While deep around the evening shadows fell.
O'er many a wood-crown'd hill and mountain bare,
O'er stream, fast rolling, river and wide vale,
Now had Llewellyn pass'd, when to his sight,
Magnificent, Gloster's tall castle rose.
Edwall he call'd; thus to the chief he spake.
“Go, noble youth! from me this summons bear;
“Tell Talbot's Earl, Llewellyn is at hand;
“That death is near him, should he hesitate
“To spread his gates, and to superior might
“Yield instant his proud charge.” Edwall, the brave,
Heard, and obedient sought the English Earl.
O'er stream, fast rolling, river and wide vale,
Now had Llewellyn pass'd, when to his sight,
Magnificent, Gloster's tall castle rose.
Edwall he call'd; thus to the chief he spake.
“Go, noble youth! from me this summons bear;
“Tell Talbot's Earl, Llewellyn is at hand;
“That death is near him, should he hesitate
“To spread his gates, and to superior might
“Yield instant his proud charge.” Edwall, the brave,
Heard, and obedient sought the English Earl.
A Squire to Talbot hastes and eager spake.
“A Cambrian chief is nigh, who with bold words,
“Demands admittance, and our master's ear.”
“Admit him.” Talbot cried. Now in the hall,
Edwall, unaw'd, advances, throng'd with knights,
And squires of glory emulous, who stood
Around their chief, leaning upon their spears;
All valourous men. Young Edwall thus began.
Turning to Talbot. “Know, O English Earl!
“Llewellyn, Cambria's brave and warlike Prince,
“Now hovers at thy gate.” Talbot turn'd pale.
His iron knees, clatter'd, yet not a word
Faint utterance found. His chieftains turn'd away,
Each to the other whispering, with bent head
And finger raised. Even the bravest heart
Throbb'd loud, while each more firmly grasp'd his spear.
Edwall again.
“A Cambrian chief is nigh, who with bold words,
“Demands admittance, and our master's ear.”
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Edwall, unaw'd, advances, throng'd with knights,
And squires of glory emulous, who stood
Around their chief, leaning upon their spears;
All valourous men. Young Edwall thus began.
Turning to Talbot. “Know, O English Earl!
“Llewellyn, Cambria's brave and warlike Prince,
“Now hovers at thy gate.” Talbot turn'd pale.
His iron knees, clatter'd, yet not a word
Faint utterance found. His chieftains turn'd away,
Each to the other whispering, with bent head
And finger raised. Even the bravest heart
Throbb'd loud, while each more firmly grasp'd his spear.
Edwall again.
“Llewellyn, with him, bears
“His flower of warriors—men grown old in fight
“And nurs'd in conquest. Open thou thy gate!
“His summons this, or ere the sun doth set,
“Each man around shall perish utterly!
“No pausing hour. Speak, or the storm descends.”
“His flower of warriors—men grown old in fight
“And nurs'd in conquest. Open thou thy gate!
“His summons this, or ere the sun doth set,
“Each man around shall perish utterly!
“No pausing hour. Speak, or the storm descends.”
“What force doth he command,” Talbot inquired.
Edwall replied, “look from thy loftiest spire,
“And count the leaves of the thick-circling trees;
“Such are his army, breathing fearful threats.
“Gloster, ere this, oft o'er the Cambrian hills,
“Disastrous, blood-delighting men, hath sent,
“And now the hour of vengeance! Spread thy gate!
“So haply mayst thou live, and this thy host.”
Edwall replied, “look from thy loftiest spire,
“And count the leaves of the thick-circling trees;
“Such are his army, breathing fearful threats.
“Gloster, ere this, oft o'er the Cambrian hills,
“Disastrous, blood-delighting men, hath sent,
“And now the hour of vengeance! Spread thy gate!
“So haply mayst thou live, and this thy host.”
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Talbot exclaim'd, “Speed to thy noble Prince.
“Tell him that Talbot, from the lifted bridge,
“Would fain address him. Let him hither haste;
“We may be friends.” Edwall replied “Thy words,
“Instant I bear.” He said and left the hall.
“Tell him that Talbot, from the lifted bridge,
“Would fain address him. Let him hither haste;
“We may be friends.” Edwall replied “Thy words,
“Instant I bear.” He said and left the hall.
Edwall had scarce retired, when thus, aloud,
Talbot began. “Warriors, and Archers true,
“Now is your moment! Soon, for friendly words,
“To meet me on yon bridge, our foe will haste,
“Of harm, undoubting, draw your arrows home!
“Let every dart, unerring toward the Prince,
“Fly, lightning-like, and in his heart's blood bathe!
“You answer not. I wait th' approving voice,
“The forward service.” Silence still prevailed.
Talbot began. “Warriors, and Archers true,
“Now is your moment! Soon, for friendly words,
“To meet me on yon bridge, our foe will haste,
“Of harm, undoubting, draw your arrows home!
“Let every dart, unerring toward the Prince,
“Fly, lightning-like, and in his heart's blood bathe!
“You answer not. I wait th' approving voice,
“The forward service.” Silence still prevailed.
A Knight advancing spake. “Earl, pardon me,
“By firm obedience taught, till this good hour,
“Thy word hath been my conscience, now, at length,
“I hesitate, necessity is mine.
“From infancy, 'mid wars have I been bred,
“And many a Gallic Knight and Brabant Squire,
“In tilt and tournament, hath own'd, too late,
“The prowess of my spear; now lifted high
“Upon the prancing charger, now on foot
“Urging the lance: my very food, less loved
“Than turney and the habiliments of war;
“Yet, never, 'mid my numberless assaults,
“And frays and conflicts fierce, urged I my spear
“Against the generous horse. Not e'en a limb,
“E'er have I wounded. At man's breast alone,
“And at his helm, my potent lance I thrust.
“My Father made me swear, on his death bed,
“E'en on the field of battle, where he lay,
“Bleeding in glory's cause, that, like himself,
“I too would die an honorable knight.
“Spare me this service, aught beside, command!”
He ended, when a Squire drew near and spake.
“By firm obedience taught, till this good hour,
“Thy word hath been my conscience, now, at length,
“I hesitate, necessity is mine.
“From infancy, 'mid wars have I been bred,
“And many a Gallic Knight and Brabant Squire,
“In tilt and tournament, hath own'd, too late,
“The prowess of my spear; now lifted high
“Upon the prancing charger, now on foot
“Urging the lance: my very food, less loved
“Than turney and the habiliments of war;
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“And frays and conflicts fierce, urged I my spear
“Against the generous horse. Not e'en a limb,
“E'er have I wounded. At man's breast alone,
“And at his helm, my potent lance I thrust.
“My Father made me swear, on his death bed,
“E'en on the field of battle, where he lay,
“Bleeding in glory's cause, that, like himself,
“I too would die an honorable knight.
“Spare me this service, aught beside, command!”
He ended, when a Squire drew near and spake.
“Earl! we are Englishmen. Thro' all the world
“This name is reverenced. Knighthood, like our oaks,
“Here thrives, its native soil. Each foreign Lord,
“In whom th' inspiring voice of honor reigns,
“When niceties and questions keen, prevail,
“'Bout combat, and the laws of tournament,
“Stands 'mid the lists and cries. ‘Champions, approved!
“Learn ye the rule of England, that proud land,
“Which 'mid a faithless world, holds high her head.
“There glory's torch shines brightest. Treach'ry there
“Ne'er found a covert. War is her delight,
“Fame her reward, her guide, the generous heart.’
“I will not tarnish my dear country's pride.
“If there be Aliens here, let them stand forth.”
One general voice is heard, throughout the place
“We all are Englishmen!”
“This name is reverenced. Knighthood, like our oaks,
“Here thrives, its native soil. Each foreign Lord,
“In whom th' inspiring voice of honor reigns,
“When niceties and questions keen, prevail,
“'Bout combat, and the laws of tournament,
“Stands 'mid the lists and cries. ‘Champions, approved!
“Learn ye the rule of England, that proud land,
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“There glory's torch shines brightest. Treach'ry there
“Ne'er found a covert. War is her delight,
“Fame her reward, her guide, the generous heart.’
“I will not tarnish my dear country's pride.
“If there be Aliens here, let them stand forth.”
One general voice is heard, throughout the place
“We all are Englishmen!”
Talbot exclaim'd.
“Curse on your coward hearts! Knight! and thou Squire;
“Before the eve your lives shall quench my wrath!
“I have a Flemish Band, less scrupulous,
“Whose hearts these qualms of tenderness disdain.”
He said, and with a brow, glowing with rage,
Forsook the hall. Each fear'd, and thought his eyes,
Never might view the moon-light mild again.
“Curse on your coward hearts! Knight! and thou Squire;
“Before the eve your lives shall quench my wrath!
“I have a Flemish Band, less scrupulous,
“Whose hearts these qualms of tenderness disdain.”
He said, and with a brow, glowing with rage,
Forsook the hall. Each fear'd, and thought his eyes,
Never might view the moon-light mild again.
Now had young Edwall to his Lord return'd.
Llewellyn cried, “A parley, doth he seek?
“We haste to meet him.” As the march began,
With speed, unwonted, earnest, posting up,
Two English warriors came, a Knight and Squire,
“Where is your Chief,” they cried. And now they stand
Before Llewellyn, thus the Knight began.
Llewellyn cried, “A parley, doth he seek?
“We haste to meet him.” As the march began,
With speed, unwonted, earnest, posting up,
Two English warriors came, a Knight and Squire,
“Where is your Chief,” they cried. And now they stand
Before Llewellyn, thus the Knight began.
“Brave Prince, from Gloster's towers, hither we haste
“To do thee service.” “Speak!” Llewellyn cried.
The Knight continued. “Talbot hath required
“A parley at thy hand—venture not near,
“Save with the front of war! He meditates
“Designs of treachery. He seeks thy death,—
“To slay, beneath the mask of conference mild.
“We scorn'd in such a damning deed to join.
“The tiger-hearted Earl, swore that our lives,
“Alone, should soothe him; that, before the eve
“Our heads should grace his loftiest castle-spire.
“We knew him well, that he the oath fulfill'd
“Coupled with vengeance, and that such alone
“E'er touch'd his heart. Some pitying friends around,
“In secret moment, we, his eagle fangs,
“Remorseless, thus escaped, and hither sped
“Brave Prince, to bear the tidings to thine ear.”
“To do thee service.” “Speak!” Llewellyn cried.
The Knight continued. “Talbot hath required
“A parley at thy hand—venture not near,
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“Designs of treachery. He seeks thy death,—
“To slay, beneath the mask of conference mild.
“We scorn'd in such a damning deed to join.
“The tiger-hearted Earl, swore that our lives,
“Alone, should soothe him; that, before the eve
“Our heads should grace his loftiest castle-spire.
“We knew him well, that he the oath fulfill'd
“Coupled with vengeance, and that such alone
“E'er touch'd his heart. Some pitying friends around,
“In secret moment, we, his eagle fangs,
“Remorseless, thus escaped, and hither sped
“Brave Prince, to bear the tidings to thine ear.”
Llewellyn paus'd, when thus the Squire began.
“Some news is still behind. Know, noble Prince!
“Our hatred to Earl Talbot (shame of knights!)
“Makes us forget all thoughts, save how to plunge
“Into disgrace profound, that man abhorred.
“There is a Postern Gate, known but of few,
“Unguarded at this moment, leading straight
“Into the castle's heart. When evening comes,
“To thee will we display that avenue.”
“Some news is still behind. Know, noble Prince!
“Our hatred to Earl Talbot (shame of knights!)
“Makes us forget all thoughts, save how to plunge
“Into disgrace profound, that man abhorred.
“There is a Postern Gate, known but of few,
“Unguarded at this moment, leading straight
“Into the castle's heart. When evening comes,
“To thee will we display that avenue.”
Llewellyn earnest cried, “Thank ye! That path
“Cambrians, this night, shall tread. But for your words,
“Haply, I might have met the dart unseen,
“You have my praise. Such treachery, till this hour,
“None had conceived of knighthood possible.
“Brief is his triumph, short his evil reign.
“Now tell me, with the solemn voice of truth,
“(While thus we pause, waiting the shades of night)
“How fares the Child of Lancaster, the maid
“Whom I most truly love, and who ere now,
“But for the wars, had been Llewellyn's bride.”
The Knight replied.
“Cambrians, this night, shall tread. But for your words,
“Haply, I might have met the dart unseen,
“You have my praise. Such treachery, till this hour,
“None had conceived of knighthood possible.
“Brief is his triumph, short his evil reign.
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“(While thus we pause, waiting the shades of night)
“How fares the Child of Lancaster, the maid
“Whom I most truly love, and who ere now,
“But for the wars, had been Llewellyn's bride.”
The Knight replied.
“Heaven guard her on her way!
“Southward she hastes, led on by Warwick's Earl.”
Llewellyn spake. “Say! are thy words sincere?”
“Truly.” He answer'd. Clasping hard his hand,
Silent, Llewellyn stood, then to and fro,
Pondering, by starts, paced on, when thus he cried.
“Whate'er befel this hapless maid, brave man,
“I pray thee, on a christian's faith, rehearse.”
Thus answer'd the bold Knight.
“Southward she hastes, led on by Warwick's Earl.”
Llewellyn spake. “Say! are thy words sincere?”
“Truly.” He answer'd. Clasping hard his hand,
Silent, Llewellyn stood, then to and fro,
Pondering, by starts, paced on, when thus he cried.
“Whate'er befel this hapless maid, brave man,
“I pray thee, on a christian's faith, rehearse.”
Thus answer'd the bold Knight.
“Report declares,
“That Eleanor was taken, in some ship,
“Sailing from Gallia. When Earl Warwick reach'd
“Gloster's stout towers, with him, he bore this maid,
“And fairer never beam of morning saw.
“There was a plaintive sadness in her air,
“And in her look, so much of melancholy—
“Of tenderest grief, of drooping sorrow mild,
“Lovely the more, obtruding on no ear
“Save when the sigh, rebellious to her will,
“In thoughtful moment, tremulous burst forth,
“And told her anguish, that all hearts, alike,
“Mourn'd and implored, upon so sweet a maid,
“Heaven's choicest blessings. With unalter'd course
“Warwick design'd to bear her to our lord,
“Edward, at Chester, that his tongue might say
“If liberty were hers, or, being sprung
“From Leicester's traitor Earl, imprisonment.
“When with a solemnized and awful brow,
“Talbot thus spake. ‘Bear not the maiden hence!
“There may be much of danger in that course!
“Edward we know! and Eleanor hath borne
“Enough of sorrow.’ Warwick thus replied,
“‘Brave Earl, her woes I do commiserate.
“Here will I leave her, safe beneath thy roof.’
“We saw the hollow heart.
“That Eleanor was taken, in some ship,
“Sailing from Gallia. When Earl Warwick reach'd
“Gloster's stout towers, with him, he bore this maid,
“And fairer never beam of morning saw.
“There was a plaintive sadness in her air,
“And in her look, so much of melancholy—
“Of tenderest grief, of drooping sorrow mild,
“Lovely the more, obtruding on no ear
“Save when the sigh, rebellious to her will,
“In thoughtful moment, tremulous burst forth,
“And told her anguish, that all hearts, alike,
“Mourn'd and implored, upon so sweet a maid,
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“Warwick design'd to bear her to our lord,
“Edward, at Chester, that his tongue might say
“If liberty were hers, or, being sprung
“From Leicester's traitor Earl, imprisonment.
“When with a solemnized and awful brow,
“Talbot thus spake. ‘Bear not the maiden hence!
“There may be much of danger in that course!
“Edward we know! and Eleanor hath borne
“Enough of sorrow.’ Warwick thus replied,
“‘Brave Earl, her woes I do commiserate.
“Here will I leave her, safe beneath thy roof.’
“We saw the hollow heart.
“Warwick scarce gone,
“He woo'd the damsel, proffer'd her to wed;
“Yea threats advanced; false as Diabolus
“He sought the maid's undoing. Stay thy grief!
“Fair Eleanor, true, and pre-eminent
“In every deed which worth and heaven approve,
“Repulsed him with disdain. She, noble maid,
“New lustre cast o'er virtue's diadem.
“Some days had past, when, unexpectedly,
“Warwick again return'd. The damsel flew
“To her protector, and more courteous knight,
“Truer to honor, or more brave in war,
“Never hath raised the spear of chivalry.
“She told her moving tale. Warwick advanced,
“Firm-footed to his foe. ‘Fight me,’ he cried.
“He woo'd the damsel, proffer'd her to wed;
“Yea threats advanced; false as Diabolus
“He sought the maid's undoing. Stay thy grief!
“Fair Eleanor, true, and pre-eminent
“In every deed which worth and heaven approve,
“Repulsed him with disdain. She, noble maid,
“New lustre cast o'er virtue's diadem.
“Some days had past, when, unexpectedly,
“Warwick again return'd. The damsel flew
“To her protector, and more courteous knight,
“Truer to honor, or more brave in war,
“Never hath raised the spear of chivalry.
“She told her moving tale. Warwick advanced,
“Firm-footed to his foe. ‘Fight me,’ he cried.
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“Doth our debate, O Prince, impede thy course?”
“Speak on!” Llewellyn answered. “Till eve fall
“Our hours are heavy; grateful will it be,
“To gain some clearer knowledge of the man,
“Earl Talbot, who retains my promised bride.”
Bending, obedient, thus again the Knight.
“The lists are raised and now the champions meet.
“Was never a bolder knight in Christendom,
“Who for fair lady, with a truer heart
“Lifted the lance, and strove more lion-like,
“Than Warwick on that day. Each man around,
“(And there were crowds, damsels and knights and squires,
“And 'mid the host the lovely Eleanor,)
“Knowing the cause and who discourteous dealt,
“Implored th' eternal ruler of the skies,
“For ample vengeance. Warwick won the day.
“Prostrate on earth, from his abased bed,
“With a most piteous voice, Talbot exclaim'd
“‘Mercy! brave Earl!’ E'en he for mercy call'd,
“Whose heart was adamant, who never yet
“Heard the soft pleader and compassion shew'd
“To any living creature—man or worm—
“In childhood's freak, who never spared a fly.
“Morose, stern, venomous—he, mercy sought!
“Speak on!” Llewellyn answered. “Till eve fall
“Our hours are heavy; grateful will it be,
“To gain some clearer knowledge of the man,
“Earl Talbot, who retains my promised bride.”
Bending, obedient, thus again the Knight.
“The lists are raised and now the champions meet.
“Was never a bolder knight in Christendom,
“Who for fair lady, with a truer heart
“Lifted the lance, and strove more lion-like,
“Than Warwick on that day. Each man around,
“(And there were crowds, damsels and knights and squires,
“And 'mid the host the lovely Eleanor,)
“Knowing the cause and who discourteous dealt,
“Implored th' eternal ruler of the skies,
“For ample vengeance. Warwick won the day.
“Prostrate on earth, from his abased bed,
“With a most piteous voice, Talbot exclaim'd
“‘Mercy! brave Earl!’ E'en he for mercy call'd,
“Whose heart was adamant, who never yet
“Heard the soft pleader and compassion shew'd
“To any living creature—man or worm—
“In childhood's freak, who never spared a fly.
“Morose, stern, venomous—he, mercy sought!
“O what a shout arose when Talbot fell!
“High in the element, the passing bird,
“Heard it and sudden turn'd. The air, the earth,
“Seem'd, with the deafening clamour to combine
“Hoarse murmurs of applause. Gasping he lay.
“We waited his death-blow, anxious to see
“Earth ridden of its bane. Warwick exclaim'd,
“(O piteous tenderness for one so vile!)
“‘Arise! I spare thy life. Oppress'd with shame
“Live, scoff of knighthood and nobility!’
“He turns, he kneels, he stands, uttering no word,
“And toward the castle gate, slowly pass'd on.
“He did not look behind, or he had felt,
“From every eye, palpable beams of scorn!
“Warwick now urged, commissioned by his King,
“Westward his journey, bearing courteously,
“To some new place of safety and repose,
“The damsel Eleanor.”
“High in the element, the passing bird,
“Heard it and sudden turn'd. The air, the earth,
“Seem'd, with the deafening clamour to combine
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“We waited his death-blow, anxious to see
“Earth ridden of its bane. Warwick exclaim'd,
“(O piteous tenderness for one so vile!)
“‘Arise! I spare thy life. Oppress'd with shame
“Live, scoff of knighthood and nobility!’
“He turns, he kneels, he stands, uttering no word,
“And toward the castle gate, slowly pass'd on.
“He did not look behind, or he had felt,
“From every eye, palpable beams of scorn!
“Warwick now urged, commissioned by his King,
“Westward his journey, bearing courteously,
“To some new place of safety and repose,
“The damsel Eleanor.”
Llewellyn cried,
“Man, born for sorrow, must his burden bear.
“My hopes, conceived in fancy's gayest hour,
“Are blasted! Heaven is wise, and I submit!”
“Man, born for sorrow, must his burden bear.
“My hopes, conceived in fancy's gayest hour,
“Are blasted! Heaven is wise, and I submit!”
The Knight replied. “Truly, thy grief is mine.
“If not discordant with thy better moods,
“I have yet other words, at which perchance,
“Thy sorrowing heart may smile. Hear me, brave Prince.
“When Warwick journey'd on, safe out of sight,
“Talbot exclaim'd. ‘Floods of perdition seize!
“A dastard Earl! I know his secret arts!
“Not by fair prowess, but by Demon charms,
“(In which my faith is fix'd and radical)
“By incantations, he the fight hath won!
“He was not exorcised! Undoubting harm,
“Man-like, I met Earl Warwick, face to face.
“He, with contemptuous cowardice, well knew
“The terror of my spear, and 'neath his mail
“Secured Hell's Safeguard, even a black charm,
“Made from the toad, henbane and hemlock vile,
“Spear-proof; this spell, e'en Talbot's power defied.
“O could I meet him now, the priest at hand
“From him to wrench his confidence, this arm
“Would send him to the earth, and every bone
“Beat to a blood consistency.' His hand
“Fierce he upraised, and instant on the ground,
“Drove his stout battle-axe! A noble feat!
“Warm admiration kindled in his eye,
“He for applause look'd round. He found it not,
“Save that the smother'd and contemptuous laugh
“Might cheat a heart like his, so prone to turn
“All circumstance, to ravenous vanity.
“If not discordant with thy better moods,
“I have yet other words, at which perchance,
“Thy sorrowing heart may smile. Hear me, brave Prince.
“When Warwick journey'd on, safe out of sight,
“Talbot exclaim'd. ‘Floods of perdition seize!
“A dastard Earl! I know his secret arts!
“Not by fair prowess, but by Demon charms,
“(In which my faith is fix'd and radical)
“By incantations, he the fight hath won!
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“Man-like, I met Earl Warwick, face to face.
“He, with contemptuous cowardice, well knew
“The terror of my spear, and 'neath his mail
“Secured Hell's Safeguard, even a black charm,
“Made from the toad, henbane and hemlock vile,
“Spear-proof; this spell, e'en Talbot's power defied.
“O could I meet him now, the priest at hand
“From him to wrench his confidence, this arm
“Would send him to the earth, and every bone
“Beat to a blood consistency.' His hand
“Fierce he upraised, and instant on the ground,
“Drove his stout battle-axe! A noble feat!
“Warm admiration kindled in his eye,
“He for applause look'd round. He found it not,
“Save that the smother'd and contemptuous laugh
“Might cheat a heart like his, so prone to turn
“All circumstance, to ravenous vanity.
“The ardour of his mind suspension found,
“For thro' his iron mail, down on the floor,
“The warm blood trickled, and his bruised face
“Came like a ghost before him. He exclaim'd
“‘The flower is faded! Talbot now descends
“To the low level of humanity—
“A common mortal!’—Conquer'd thus by charms,
“Not by the bravest knight, England may boast,
“He, on the pain of death, forbade each man
“To speak of his defeat and there is there,
“Within yon castle, a deep dungeon dark,
“Where deeds have oft been done, by torch-light faint;
“Such deeds!—I many a horrid tale might tell
“Of blood-congealing import! Let them pass!
“There is on high a faithful registry!
“For thro' his iron mail, down on the floor,
“The warm blood trickled, and his bruised face
“Came like a ghost before him. He exclaim'd
“‘The flower is faded! Talbot now descends
“To the low level of humanity—
“A common mortal!’—Conquer'd thus by charms,
“Not by the bravest knight, England may boast,
“He, on the pain of death, forbade each man
“To speak of his defeat and there is there,
“Within yon castle, a deep dungeon dark,
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“Such deeds!—I many a horrid tale might tell
“Of blood-congealing import! Let them pass!
“There is on high a faithful registry!
“Well, noble Prince, it was a pleasant thing
“To mark this Chief of ours and hear his words.
“The passing knight, some foreign, some home-born,
“That, journeying, call'd for hospitable fare,
“At Gloster's castle, oft inquiry made,
“With something like condolence for his face,
“So batter'd and so marr'd. A different tale,
“Each different knight received, all, to himself,
“Of honorable tendencies, his fame
“Lifting to Heaven, so great in mighty deeds!
“But, at the last, he to one tale adhered,
“With such inflexible integrity,
“That, haply, he may now half deem it true.
“He told the curious stranger, that, far off,
“A Robber Chief, dwelt in a cavern rude,
“Fierce as the tyger, of surpassing strength,
“And whom with warlike front none dared approach;
“Whilst round his home, knee-deep, the bones were piled
“Of warriors vanquish'd. ‘Ah! dost fear?’ he cried—
“‘At length I heard of his transcendent deeds.
“His victories, I like a feast devour'd,
“And swore to blazon forth, Talbot's high fame.
“I well remember that in Burgundy
“Edward, in equal combat, met a Chief
“Famous in war, and triumph'd over him,
“That after that, he fought most gallantly
“With Robber, fear'd afar, and now,’ he cried,
“‘Here is a feat for me, for never a man
“This spear hath shunned. I emulate my Prince.
“I sought him, 'mid his wilderness of rock,
“And, hand to hand, struggled three tedious hours,
“Tho' short, to me; in truth, it was a sport.
“His efforts vain. My faithful battle-axe
“(That is the weapon which I love) my axe,
“With a remorseless fury, to the earth,
“Drove him—he, falling, closed his eyes in death,
“But, 'mid the fray, this scar upon my face
“Chanced to alight. Forcing my toilsome path,
“Serene of heart, thro' skulls and broken spears
“And ghastly skeletons, I sought my home.’
“Here our Chief ended, and with lifted toe,
“And bloated cheeks, waited the loud applause.
“To mark this Chief of ours and hear his words.
“The passing knight, some foreign, some home-born,
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“At Gloster's castle, oft inquiry made,
“With something like condolence for his face,
“So batter'd and so marr'd. A different tale,
“Each different knight received, all, to himself,
“Of honorable tendencies, his fame
“Lifting to Heaven, so great in mighty deeds!
“But, at the last, he to one tale adhered,
“With such inflexible integrity,
“That, haply, he may now half deem it true.
“He told the curious stranger, that, far off,
“A Robber Chief, dwelt in a cavern rude,
“Fierce as the tyger, of surpassing strength,
“And whom with warlike front none dared approach;
“Whilst round his home, knee-deep, the bones were piled
“Of warriors vanquish'd. ‘Ah! dost fear?’ he cried—
“‘At length I heard of his transcendent deeds.
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“And swore to blazon forth, Talbot's high fame.
“I well remember that in Burgundy
“Edward, in equal combat, met a Chief
“Famous in war, and triumph'd over him,
“That after that, he fought most gallantly
“With Robber, fear'd afar, and now,’ he cried,
162
“This spear hath shunned. I emulate my Prince.
“I sought him, 'mid his wilderness of rock,
“And, hand to hand, struggled three tedious hours,
“Tho' short, to me; in truth, it was a sport.
“His efforts vain. My faithful battle-axe
“(That is the weapon which I love) my axe,
“With a remorseless fury, to the earth,
“Drove him—he, falling, closed his eyes in death,
“But, 'mid the fray, this scar upon my face
“Chanced to alight. Forcing my toilsome path,
“Serene of heart, thro' skulls and broken spears
“And ghastly skeletons, I sought my home.’
“Here our Chief ended, and with lifted toe,
“And bloated cheeks, waited the loud applause.
“All men who Talbot knew, wonder'd that one
“So steep'd in cowardice, should ere command
“Castle like Gloster—To his courser's feet
“He owes his honor. On a sportive day
“The Nimrod Edward, with his noble court,
“Hunted the boar. The forest where he lay
“Was wide and intricate, and at an hour,
“Fate so decreed it, Edward, all alone,
“(Borne by the steed, so fleet, once his best friend. )
“Stood near the boar, and at him plunged his spear.
“The wounded monster, wild and furious,
“Turn'd, and at Edward's horse, drove his huge tusk.
“The horse and rider fell. Twelve dogs at hand
“Seized on the beast, and whilst their many fangs
“Bound him to earth, Talbot full-flush'd approach'd,
“And seeing the fierce tenant of the woods,
“O'ermaster'd and in death, most gallantly,
“Uprais'd his lance and pierced him. Partly stunned
“By the hard fall, Edward now rose, and saw,
“Admiring, Talbot's spear, thro' the dead boar.
“‘I've killed him,’ he exclaim'd, ‘and work it was
“Befitting giant, but, no boaster's words,
“Enough, O King, to say, here lies thy foe!’
“‘Most noble;’ Edward cried. ‘Thy ancestors
“Were brave and valiant, and their progeny,
“From thee I judge, will never blot their fame.
“Friend from this hour!—To thee, I owe my life.
“So Edward, grateful man! to Talbot gave,
“This castle and his valour still commends.”
“So steep'd in cowardice, should ere command
“Castle like Gloster—To his courser's feet
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“The Nimrod Edward, with his noble court,
“Hunted the boar. The forest where he lay
“Was wide and intricate, and at an hour,
“Fate so decreed it, Edward, all alone,
“(Borne by the steed, so fleet, once his best friend. )
164
“The wounded monster, wild and furious,
“Turn'd, and at Edward's horse, drove his huge tusk.
“The horse and rider fell. Twelve dogs at hand
“Seized on the beast, and whilst their many fangs
“Bound him to earth, Talbot full-flush'd approach'd,
“And seeing the fierce tenant of the woods,
“O'ermaster'd and in death, most gallantly,
“Uprais'd his lance and pierced him. Partly stunned
“By the hard fall, Edward now rose, and saw,
“Admiring, Talbot's spear, thro' the dead boar.
“‘I've killed him,’ he exclaim'd, ‘and work it was
“Befitting giant, but, no boaster's words,
“Enough, O King, to say, here lies thy foe!’
“‘Most noble;’ Edward cried. ‘Thy ancestors
“Were brave and valiant, and their progeny,
“From thee I judge, will never blot their fame.
“Friend from this hour!—To thee, I owe my life.
“So Edward, grateful man! to Talbot gave,
“This castle and his valour still commends.”
The Knight now ceas'd. Silence the Prince aroused;
Else had he shewn attention, tho' the words
In thier distinct significance were all
Like the still fluttering leaf. Tho' full and clear,
Llewellyn heard them not; his spirit ran,
On scenes, far distant, when, at length, he cried,
Clenching his spear. “Meanest of mortal kind!
“Most abject in the scale of living things!
“Talbot! I swear, upon yon towering spire,
“Thy head shall stand. Vices like thine convert
“Crimes into virtues, and, a sanctity,
“Give to th' avenging sword.”
Else had he shewn attention, tho' the words
In thier distinct significance were all
Like the still fluttering leaf. Tho' full and clear,
Llewellyn heard them not; his spirit ran,
On scenes, far distant, when, at length, he cried,
Clenching his spear. “Meanest of mortal kind!
“Most abject in the scale of living things!
“Talbot! I swear, upon yon towering spire,
165
“Crimes into virtues, and, a sanctity,
“Give to th' avenging sword.”
Thus communing,
The eve advanced; when, with feint, laudable,
'Mid wars and strifes, Llewellyn led his force
Near to the gate. Talbot expectant stood,
Waiting the parley. Few, around him, throug'd;
But, near, a host there was, (their heads just rose,)
Of base assassins, who, their nourishment
From dark deeds drew, and fed alone on death.
Praise to the air we breathe, a foreign band,
Who, for small pay, stretch forth their willing arm,
Alike, in every cause, and, murder, make
Their lawful calling. Now had darkness veil'd
Heaven's canopy; even the few faint stars
That shone on high, with mists, hard contest held,
Who first should yield.
The eve advanced; when, with feint, laudable,
'Mid wars and strifes, Llewellyn led his force
Near to the gate. Talbot expectant stood,
Waiting the parley. Few, around him, throug'd;
But, near, a host there was, (their heads just rose,)
Of base assassins, who, their nourishment
From dark deeds drew, and fed alone on death.
Praise to the air we breathe, a foreign band,
Who, for small pay, stretch forth their willing arm,
Alike, in every cause, and, murder, make
Their lawful calling. Now had darkness veil'd
Heaven's canopy; even the few faint stars
That shone on high, with mists, hard contest held,
Who first should yield.
Led, by the English Knight,
Thro' doubtful ways, and winding, to the door,
(Where secret messengers pass'd to and fro,
In years gone by, neglected, scarce descried)
Llewellyn and the Cambrian forces came.
All silent; the near bird still slept serene.
The Knight and Squire preceded. After them,
His sword unsheath'd, Llewellyn boldly pass'd!
And after him, his Chiefs full-often tried,
Each panting for some valiant deed at arms.
Unseen and unsuspected, now they stand,
All marshall'd, in the centre of their foes!
Oh! what a shout was there!
Thro' doubtful ways, and winding, to the door,
(Where secret messengers pass'd to and fro,
In years gone by, neglected, scarce descried)
Llewellyn and the Cambrian forces came.
All silent; the near bird still slept serene.
The Knight and Squire preceded. After them,
His sword unsheath'd, Llewellyn boldly pass'd!
And after him, his Chiefs full-often tried,
166
Unseen and unsuspected, now they stand,
All marshall'd, in the centre of their foes!
Oh! what a shout was there!
Talbot exclaim'd.
“Treason!” He stood astounded. Every man
Felt death within his reins. Each, of all round,
Unknowing how to act or where to speed,
Stood motionless. The gallant Cambrians
Advance, with lifted spear. Foes, faintly seen,
Roused fancy, while the grisly form of death
Each warrior scared, and danger, magnified,
Tenfold. With horrors numberless, each saw
Himself encompass'd and aloud exclaim'd,
“Quarter! We yield!”
“Treason!” He stood astounded. Every man
Felt death within his reins. Each, of all round,
Unknowing how to act or where to speed,
Stood motionless. The gallant Cambrians
Advance, with lifted spear. Foes, faintly seen,
Roused fancy, while the grisly form of death
Each warrior scared, and danger, magnified,
Tenfold. With horrors numberless, each saw
Himself encompass'd and aloud exclaim'd,
“Quarter! We yield!”
Llewellyn cried aloud,
“Quarter receive! Vanquish'd, bear here your arms.”
O'erwhelm'd with flood-like panic and surprise,
Men, brave at heart, press'd forward, to resign
The sword and lance; and, prisoners, now they stand.
“Quarter receive! Vanquish'd, bear here your arms.”
O'erwhelm'd with flood-like panic and surprise,
Men, brave at heart, press'd forward, to resign
The sword and lance; and, prisoners, now they stand.
“Your Chief!” Llewellyn cried. “Search! Him I seek!”
One forward came and spake. “Know, noble Prince!
“Our Governor, Earl Talbot, is far off.
“When he beheld his castle, thus surprised,
“With quivering lip and knee, loud he exclaim'd,
“‘God for us all, and each man for himself!’
“No other word he utter'd, but, I trow,
“Courageous, in despair, forth, to the mote,
“Sped like the deer. Heedless of cumbering mail,
“Into the tide he plunged, and lustily,
“Warr'd with the billow. On the opposing bank,
“By the thin light of star-beam, glimmering faint,
“We saw him mount; then rushing on his way,
“He turn'd no look behind, but, onward sped,
“Impetuous, ardent. On my faith, I judge,
“Till he hath reach'd full twenty measured miles,
“He still will look straight forward, nor one thought
“Cast on his suffering friends.”
One forward came and spake. “Know, noble Prince!
“Our Governor, Earl Talbot, is far off.
“When he beheld his castle, thus surprised,
“With quivering lip and knee, loud he exclaim'd,
“‘God for us all, and each man for himself!’
167
“Courageous, in despair, forth, to the mote,
“Sped like the deer. Heedless of cumbering mail,
“Into the tide he plunged, and lustily,
“Warr'd with the billow. On the opposing bank,
“By the thin light of star-beam, glimmering faint,
“We saw him mount; then rushing on his way,
“He turn'd no look behind, but, onward sped,
“Impetuous, ardent. On my faith, I judge,
“Till he hath reach'd full twenty measured miles,
“He still will look straight forward, nor one thought
“Cast on his suffering friends.”
Morn now advanced,
When to the Captives, thus Llewellyn spake.
“Prisoners, ye are. Wrongs, countless, prompt my heart
“To just retaliation, fierce and full.
“I check th' avenging impulse, war, too oft,
“Urges on victors. No delight in blood,
“Nor appetite for slaughter, I will spare
“Each man from harm. Until the wars shall cease
“Cambria must feed you. Of these lofty towers,
“Late England's pride, take you a final glance,
“No stone upon its fellow, hence, shall rest;
“Its huge embattlements, prostrate shall lie;
“While owls, and bats, and the nocturnal beast,
“And lizard venomous, shall thrive and make
“This spot their habitation. Never more
“Upon my land, its legions shall outpour
“And scatter death, filling with thorns and swords
“The midnight pillow.” Lo! the work begins,
And whilst toward Cambria, sad, the prisoners speed,
Destruction, with his besom, sweeps the plain.
When to the Captives, thus Llewellyn spake.
“Prisoners, ye are. Wrongs, countless, prompt my heart
“To just retaliation, fierce and full.
“I check th' avenging impulse, war, too oft,
“Urges on victors. No delight in blood,
“Nor appetite for slaughter, I will spare
“Each man from harm. Until the wars shall cease
“Cambria must feed you. Of these lofty towers,
“Late England's pride, take you a final glance,
“No stone upon its fellow, hence, shall rest;
“Its huge embattlements, prostrate shall lie;
“While owls, and bats, and the nocturnal beast,
“And lizard venomous, shall thrive and make
“This spot their habitation. Never more
“Upon my land, its legions shall outpour
168
“The midnight pillow.” Lo! the work begins,
And whilst toward Cambria, sad, the prisoners speed,
Destruction, with his besom, sweeps the plain.
“The Golden Torch or Torque was the ancient badge of British Nobility.” —Jones's Welsh Bards.
“These ornaments were not confined to the Romans, but appear to have been common amongst the Gauls and other Celtic Nations. (The learned dissertation prefixed by Bishop Percy to his translation of Mallet's Northern Antiquities, appears to have decided the long-disputed question, that the origin of the Gauls was not Celtic but Teutonic.) Boadicea, the British Queen, is described as wearing a Golden Torque. At Pattingham, the estate of the Earls of Chester, in the year 1700, was found a large Torquis of Gold 31b. 20z. weight, about two feet long, curiously twisted and wreathed, with two books at each end. The metal was fine and bright, and so flexible that it would wrap round the hat or arm, and easily return again to its own shape, which resembled a Bow.” —Camden.
The Welsh Bards were not more remarkable for their love of freedom, than they were for the unexceptionable tendency of their writings. In “Oceana” (it will be remembered) the Immoral Poet was punished with “whipping,” doubtless with a cat-o-nine tails, each muse very properly contributing a string.
Tournaments had so prevailed in England, in the reign of Richard I. as to become the subject of taxation. The following is an extract from the ordinance issued on the occasion. “Know, that we have permitted tournaments to be held in England, in five places; between Sarum and Wilton; between Warewecke and Kenelingworthe; between Stamford and Warrenford; between Brakeley and Mazebery; between Blie and Tylie-hill; yet so that the peace of our land be not broken, nor justice hindered, nor damage done to our Forests. And an Earl who shall turney there shall pay 20 marcs, and a Baron 10 marcs, and a Knight who has land 4 marcs, and a Knight who has no land 2 marcs.” The lists in these places were always prepared, and the proper officers in constant attendance.
By the laws of chivalry, it was held disreputable to wound the horse or any of the inferior members of the body.
In this period the roads of Christendom were covered with Pilgrims going to some particular shrine; Palmers going from shrine to shrine, like the wandering Jew, everlastingly; and Knights, seeking adventures. Chaucer, who was born about twenty years after the death of Edward I. thus exhibits a “Parfit Knight” who, like other “gentil and parfit Knights,” his contemporaries, loved fighting, or, in the language of the day, “to make proof of his valour.”
“A Knight ther was, and that a worthy man,“That fro the time that he firste began
“To riden out, he loved chivalrie,
“Trouthe and honour, freedom and curtesie.
“Ful as worthy was he in his lordes werre,
“And thereto had he ridden, no man ferre,
“As well in Christendom as in Hethenesse,
“And ever honoured for his worthiness.
“At Alisandre he was when it was wonne,
“Full often time he hadde the bord begonne
“Aboven alle nations in Prace
“In Lellowe hadde he reysed and in Race;
“No Cristen man so ofte of his degre.
“In Gernade, at the siege, eke hadde he be,
“At Algesir, and ridden in Belmarie.
“At Leyes was he, and at Satalie
“Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete See,
“At many a noble armee hadde he be.
“At mortal battailles hadde he ben fiftene,
“And foughten for our faith at Tramissene,
“In listes thries, and ay slain his fo.
“This ilke worthy Knight hadde ben also
“Some time with the Lord of Palatie,
“Agen another Hethen in Turkie,
“And evermore he had a sovereine prise,
“And tho' that he was worthy, he was wise,
“And of his port as meke as is a mayde,
“He never yet no vilanie ne sayde
“In alle his lif into no manner wight:
“He was a very parfit gentil Knight.”
At every castle throughout Europe, a knight was always welcome. In return for his hospitable reception, he told his host of his adventures; and brought information from distant quarters, at a period when it was rarely to be obtained in any other way. Most of our old chroniclers were not a little indebted to the garrulity of travelling knights.
“King Edward, in his journey from the Holy Land, thro' Italy and France, gave notable proofe of his great prowesse and strength, at a tournament, or rather battel, against the Earl of Chabloun, and his Burgundians: for the said Count, being a gallant man at arms, after many blowes with the sword betweene King Edward and him, throwing away his weapon, graspt the King about the gorget, and hung upon him with the weight of his massie body, in hope to cast him to the earth, but the King sitting upright, without any bending, put spurs to his lusty horse, and lifted the Count, so hanging about his neeke, quite from the saddle, carrying him away, till hee had forceably shooke him off to the ground.”—Speed.
“Among those who were outlawd for rebellion and treason, after the battell of Evesham, for partaking with Simon Earl of Leicester, was one Sir Adam Gurdon, a Knight of the parts about Winchester, who with certaine his Complices, kept out of the way of the King's Officers, but made the King's high way between Wilton and Farnham (which by reason of woods and windings, was fitte to shclter enemies) very dangerous for such as meant to passe, but doing most mischief to the goods and lands of such as were the King's friends. Edward hearing of this man's singular courage, gets intelligence of a fit time, and comes upon him with a strong band of followers; but he, nothing terrified, prepares himselfe to fighte for his life to the last gaspe. The Prince hereupon commands that none of his men should dare to interrupt their combat, and forthwith with equal courage they exchanged mighty blowes without winning ground of each other. Edward, delighted with the bravery of Adam's spirit and proofe of his manhood, forgave him and returned to him his forfeit lands, thereby making him a steady friend thro' life.” —Speed.
Many particulars respecting this Sir Adam Gurdon have been collested by White, in his “History of Selborne” (though not including the above incident from Speed.) It appears that Selborne was the family residence of Sir Adam, who, we are told, as he advanced in life, began to feel some solicitude for the safety of his soul (apprehensions, considering his many robberies and plunders, which some will think not unreasonable) and, therefore, agreeably to the faith of the age, he determined to make all secure, in that quarter, by bequeathing one piece of land to Merton College, Oxford, and another piece, in the immediate vicinity of the Church, as a Play-place, to the inhabitants of Selborne forever. It is still appropriated to this use, and is distinguished by the Saxon name of Plestor, a place for sports.
Henry III. and his Son Edward, having been taken prisoners, by the Earl of Leicester, in the Barons' war, the Earl retained them near him, and under the sanction of their names, exercised complete authority. Prince Edward however thus effected his escape. “The Earl of Gloucester having become jealous of Simon De Montford, Earl of Leicester, and thinking it essential to the success of his plan, to get the young Prince out of his hands, devised the following means for that purpose.—Leicester, with his royal Prisoners, lay at Hereford; Roger de Mortimer (a partisan of Gloucester) having many friends at Hereford, made Edward a present, by a third hand, of a very swift horse, and withal acquainted him with the use he was to make of it, and the design laid for the recovery of his liberty. To second the project, the Prince feigning himself ill, and to want exercise, desir'd leave to ride some horses. The Earl of Leicester, who suspected nothing of the matter, granted his request, though with great precaution. Besides his usual guard, he ordered some gentlemen to keep always near him, and to have their eye upon him continually. Edward being come into the fields, immediately breathed two or three horses. Then he called for that lately presented him, and as if he had a mind to use him gently to his rider, walk'd him at some distance from his guard, being accompanied by the gentlemen who kept close to him. When he was come to a certain place which he had before carefully remarked, and which seemed proper for his design, laying the reins on his horse's neck, and clapping spurs to his sides, he so surprized those that attended him, that he was at a good distance before they were recovered from their astonishment. However, they rid after him till they saw a troop of horse, sent by the Earl of Gloucester to favour his escape.”—Rapin.
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