The Fall of Cambria in Twenty-Four Books :: :: University of Virginia Library

O what a shout distracting rent the air
When Edward fell! The self same attitude,
Llewellyn held, with which he gave the blow,
Unconscious, on the wall, till the loud trump
Sounded retreat, amid the general roar.

The Foe fast hastening to their Camp at hand,
Llewellyn cried, “Prepare! Instant pursuit!
“Upon the plain, buckler and sword shall sound!
“The victory is ours! The day is won!”
He spake, when at that moment, with dismay,
The fleet is seen, burden'd with fighting men,
And speeding on toward Conway's eastern shore!

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(Talbot and Venables from Mona borne.)
Llewellyn pauses. In his labouring mind,
Plans opposite doubtful contention hold.
The path is fix'd. His Chiefs Llewellyn calls.
Thus he began.

“Tho' Conway's towers are firm,
“And, with such force, as now protects her walls,
“May laugh at danger, yet our Foe is strong;
“Nor must we risk our all upon a Tower
“Thrice firmer than this Conway. Mark your Prince.
“I had design'd, instant, the hot pursuit,
“And the fierce conflict on the shore beneath,
“But, yonder fleet behold! throng'd with bold men,
“Swelling King Edward's ranks. Our path is clear.
“We must escape to yon cloud-cover'd spot,
“Old Dolbadarn, rising on Snowdon's brow;
“Where victory hath often follow'd us,
“And safety ever. There our scatter'd force
“Will round us throng, and if our mortal Foe
“Should venture, where his fathers found defeat,
“(Among our rocks and mountain fortresses)
“Our swords shall win an easy road to fame.”

The night is come. Aloud the wind is heard;
The storm descends. Llewellyn and his host
Pass thro' the gateway, and their course pursue,
Like the straight arrow thro' the yielding air,
Toward Dolbadarn, that Castle of the Clouds.

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With a precipitance, bordering on flight,
Llewellyn, thro' the darkness, urged his course
Toward Snowdon's brow, and when the day arrived,
Still, with his troops, he sped, intent to gain
The summit of the mountain, where he, erst,
In hours of peril, he and his brave Sires,
Refuge oft found. And now the base he reach'd,
Of that proud hill, wild, waste and desolate,
Stripp'd of its charms. It was a cheerless hour;
The eminence was veil'd in mists and clouds.
The rain descended, and the beating wind
Wound shrill around the mountain, whilst on high,
'Mid fitful gusts, a hollow roar was heard.
There the fierce winds revell'd in wanton play,
Or in deep tones of anger, surlily,
Told of their wrath,—amid the scatter'd thorn,
(Bent from the blast) the crag and cavern rude,
Waking strange noises. The repelling frown
Snowdon now wore, seem'd like an alter'd friend,
Grown great, or famous. Not, as heretofore,
The Cambrians, with selecting step, pass'd on,
Choosing their road, or rough or smooth ascent,
And turning oft, to drink refreshment in,
Where the rich prospect burst, voluptuous,
Upon the sight; in a straight line they go,—
O'er spots till then deem'd inaccessible,
Forgetful of each thought of idle thing,
Nor looking to the right, nor to the left;
And now with strenuous and unceasing toil,
(Not to be borne save by the mountaineer

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Accustomed to the stone-path and the rock,)
They plunge into the clouds, and reach at length,
Th' aerial summit, where above the mists,
Firm Dolbadarn rais'd his proud head in scorn.

When Edward landed by the Conway side,
As the first fight was o'er, his mind conceived,
That Cambria's last resort, again might prove
On Snowdon, where his fathers refuge found.
Aloud he cried, “Argent, the three stags heads!”
Stanley drew near. Cried Edward, “Whilst we strive
“With Cambria, on the plain, and Conway's towers
“Level with earth, thou to the mountain speed.
“There is a Castle on the loftiest brow;
“Make Dolbadarn thy own. We little know
“What value its possession hence may bear.
“A thousand veterans bold, follow thy will.”
Young Stanley, knight of honorable fame,
The pride of chivalry, toward Snowdon heights,
Presses, and courts the desperate enterprize,
Zealous to consummate his Monarch's will.

239

Scarce had Llewellyn reach'd old Snowdon's brow,
When, posting up the steep rough eminence,
(Long-wilder'd with the mountain path) appear'd
Stanley, the gallant knight. Onward he comes,
Emerging from the clouds, which, round the base,
And far ascending up the craggy side,
Stretch'd their broad belt. Llewellyn cried aloud
“Behold the Enemy! Speed to the war!”
Instant from Dolbadarn, the Cambrian force
Pours on impetuous. Stanley saw the Foe,
Unknowing whence and countless as Heaven's stars,
Such they appear'd to his astonished gaze.
“Retreat! Retreat!” sounds thro' the English host.
And now adown the mountain, hurrying on,
Head foremost, like the rolling Avalanche,
Stanley escapes. Behind him, following fast,
Llewellyn's sword appears, and the pursuit
Is hot and earnest. Hast'ning toward the spot,
E'en at this moment, so by chance decreed,
Lo! David now appears—bearing his spoil,
And noble prisoners. He beheld the host,

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Rushing like torrents from the storm-drench'd hill.
“The Foe! The Foe!” He cried. Instant they speed
To stay the fugitives. Encompass'd thus,
Stanley submits, while England's gallant host
All captives stand, save on the extreme verge,
Fleet-rushing, or obscured among the thorns,
A vent'rous few, who thus escaped, to bear
The tidings to their Monarch.

Never yet,
Old Snowdon heard such pealing shouts ascend
From her broad breasts and craggy pinnacles,
As at this hour, when every heart had burst,
Had not its flood of joy a passage found,
And shouts and uproar reign'd.

David now hastes,
With his throng'd captives, to Llewellyn near.
The princely brothers welcome with loud greet.
David thus cried. “Success hath crown'd our arms!
“I bear thee tidings, such as shall inspire
“Both thee and thine with firmer confidence.
“Denbigh has stoop'd to me! And to these men,
“Sons of Renown. Rhuthynon too hath fallen,
“And here are Captives, Warriors known to fame—
“Earl Pembroke and Earl Mortimer, o'ercome
“In arduous fight, by Cambria's veteran bands.”

Llewellyn cried. “Now hast thou well sustain'd
“Thy ancient character, and blotted out,

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“E'en to the faintest stain, all that impeach'd,
“Once, thy fair loyalty. These are proud days.
“On every hand success upholds our state,
“And we may hope, erelong, Edward to trap
“Among these pathless mountains; with disgrace
“O'erwhelm our deadliest Foe, sending him back
“Abash'd, to tell how Cambria waged the fight.”
Edwall, the scene beholding, with surprise,
Amid the trembling Captives, Stanley saw,
Mute, gazing at the earth! Instant, the news
He bears to David; David sought the Prince,
Then Stanley found, and cried. “Thou didst my Friend
“Release in hour of peril, David now
“Releases thee. Free as the mountain wind,
“Pass on thy way.” Stanley to Heaven look'd up.
Clasping his hand, he cried. “One prayer is mine,
“That I may live to shew, most gallant Prince!
“The burden of the spirit's gratitude.”
He spake, and down the rough wild mountain sped.
Llewellyn and Prince David instant turn'd
To seek bleak Dolbadarn, joy in each face,
Ascending sturdily the crags; and now,
Once more, they reach the castle of the clouds.

Upon the brow of the south-stretching hills,
A man advances, on the fleetest steed!
All pause expectant of the news he bears.
He hastens to the Prince. Thus he began.
“Earl Warwick long hath ravaged Dinevawr,
“When late to Powis-Land he bent his way,

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“Bearing all force before him. Thou didst send
“Rhywaldon to oppose this wasting Earl.
“They fought; Rhywaldon suffer'd the defeat.
“He flies before the Earl, he and his host.
“I am the first to bear the doleful news.”

Llewellyn cried. “David our counsellor,
“And Anarawd and Edwall, and ye host
“Of veteran chiefs, this path doth wisdom prompt.
“It is expedient, instant, to depart
“And meet this daring Earl, ere he his force
“Conjoin with Edward. David, thou, thy staff
“Upon this spot shalt plant. To fainter spirit
“Not to be trusted; I, meantime, will haste
“Toward Warwick, on the southern side these hills.
“He, vanquish'd, we again will meet, and hurl
“Death on our greater Foe!”

David replied,
“Prosperity be thine! Till next we meet,
“I will profoundly think how best to serve
“The cause I once rejected, and, for wrongs
“Bitterly mourn'd, to my poor Native Land,
“And thee, my Brother, multiply proud deeds
“Of valourous might. Success attend thy course,
“Nor doubt the courage of thy Brother here.”

When Warwick's Earl, from Gloster, hasten'd on,
(Bearing De Montford's daughter) with designs
To enter Cambria's land at Dinevawr,

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Fair Eleanor, most lovely in her tears,
Pleaded with Warwick, in so sweet a tone
Of mild solicitude, with such soft words,
For liberty to pass toward him she loved,
That Warwick promised her her amplest wish.
“I haste,” he cried, “commissioned by my King,
“To conquer southern Cambria, and extend
“My march toward Powis, Gwyned then to seek,
“And join my arms with Edward in the war.
“Chaste as morn's star thou shalt my course attend,
“And in some favouring hour, as well becomes
“The Son of Chivalry, thee will I bear
“To him thou prizest. Tho' in war our Foe,
“In love, he is our Friend, and pity mourns,
“That hearts like yours discord should separate.
“Thee I admire, as the transcendent height
“Of woman's excellence. Warwick, too, owns
“One, braver than Llewellyn, never poised
“The hero's spear, or wore the diadem.
“Yet, war decrees it. He is still my Foe,
“And I must fight the man whom I could love.
“Yet shall one generous deed, Maiden, be mine.
“I will release thee from captivity.
“Altho' it tear my spirit from my frame,
“Like true-born knight, this deed will I perform.”

Fair Eleanor, her eyes with tears suffused,
Cried, faultering. “Noble Earl! thou dost confer
“Splendor on knighthood. Vainly would I tell
“The gratitude that rises in my breast.

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“The weakness of expression, till this hour,
“For the full heart, to serve as vehicle,
“Never I knew. A nobler soul than thine,
“Possess'd of more imperial eminence
“Of lofty qualities, lives not, save one;
“And I can only thank thee with my tears.”

Earl Warwick traversed Dinevawr and made
Conquests renown'd. The Chieftains of the Land,
Most famed in war, had round Llewellyn throng'd,
And left their castles, not with veterans bold,
As erst, when England's bands from th' Cambrian hills,
Oftimes were driven, o'erwhelm'd with death and shame;
But now their untried arms, successive yield
To Warwick's valour, and he march'd along
Heaping success. Brecknock his towers resign'd,
Radnor, and Hay, and Built, and Abatild,
Frodsham, and Mould; and now his way he bent
Toward Conway, when Rhywaldon stemm'd his course.
They fought. The Cambrian well his name upheld,
But, grappling with superior power, he fled!
Warwick pursued; when, as the eve advanced,
Weary with following the fleet-bounding foe,
The Earl a castle reach'd, Lhanurst, whose walls
Once were robust, now mouldering to decay.
At his approach the few who dwelt there fled.
He enter'd, with fair Eleanor, and now,
With all the faithfulness and courtesy
Of English Knight, revolved how best to bear
The maiden to her lover. Whilst his thoughts

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Pored earnest thus, a ghastly fugitive
Announces that Llewellyn is at hand.
Lo! He approaches with a gallant force,
And Warwick is surrounded! In his mind,
Confused and jarring thoughts rush'd to and fro.
A fancied thing till then, Danger appear'd,
But now, his firm resolve, scarcely restrains
The trembling knee.

A momentary fear!
Warwick exclaims aloud. “Flee to your posts!
“If to the charge our enemies advance,
“Our hearts are English, and our swords are steel,
“And, noble is our cause. What want we more?”—
Warwick, and each around, now fortify
Their hearts for the assault, resolved like men
To conquer, or, their lives dearly to sell.
The night arrives. Llewellyn and his host
Now gather round the walls and for the morn
Wait only to begin the fierce assault.

One to Earl Warwick comes. Slowly he spake,
“Our Foes are many and thy force is small.
“We may not bear the brunt of Cambria's spear.
“To flee is no disgrace. To save our lives,
“Thus hemm'd, and certain of a speedy fall,
“Is most exempt from sordid cowardice.”
“What mean'st thou?” Warwick cried. The man replied,
“There is a secret passage leading hence,
“Which opens to a cave below yon hill,

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“Whence thou may'st flee, before the morning light,
“Half-way, toward Conway.” Warwick cried aloud.
“That be our path! Dishonour there is none,
“In flight to seek our safety, free of harm,
“With such a force, from such an enemy.”
The summons is sent forth. Throughout the place,
The tidings run, and for the darkest hour
Of pitchy midnight, anxious now they wait.

If ever stormy feelings in a breast
Woke uproar rude, O Eleanor! thy heart
Knew well its force. The terrors of assault,
Where blood and death became familiar sights!
And the approach of him, e'en at the gate,
Llewellyn, in whose happiness her own
Was center'd, and whose vows of tenderness
She had received and plighted oft again.
It was a juncture of o'erwhelming power.
She for Llewellyn fear'd, whose side some dart
Might pierce, or, on whose head the sword might light.
She trembled for herself, and, in her heart,
Felt some solicitude for Warwick's Earl,
Pride of nobility, the bold, the brave.

Where Eleanor, in anguish, with her maid,
Sat on the future pondering, suddenly
Earl Warwick entered. On his brow he wore
Anxiety and the unsettled thought.
He cried, “O Eleanor! now must we part!
“A last adieu is ours! Never again,

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“May Warwick listen to thy tale of woe,
“And envy him, whose heart thou hast enthrall'd.
“Farewell!” “What!” Eleanor exclaim'd, “O say!”
Warwick replied. “There is a secret door,
“Leading far off, thro' which, at night, we pass;—
“Leaving this castle, when the morn awakes,
“To Cambria's noble Prince. O Eleanor!
“Thee, too, will I resign. Here shalt thou stay.
“Thy wanderings now shall cease. A prize shall wait
“Llewellyn, which his spirit dared not hope.”

With transport! Eleanor exclaim'd, “My soul,
“O Chief! exults, that thou wilt 'scape the fight;
“Nor two such sons of valour, as thyself
“And brave Llewellyn, measure sword with sword.
“Go! and may Heaven uphold thy generous heart,
“And in the day of battle screen thy head!
“May all it's choicest blessings, it's best gifts
“Rest on thee, and thy future days be peace!
“How shall my full heart bear its evidence
“For all the favours shewn to Eleanor?—
“Poor, friendless, wretched, but for thy support;
“O generous Earl! If ere the time should come,
“When gratitude may banquet sumptuously,
“When I may do thee favour, and return
“Part of that debt, immeasurably great,
“Which to Earl Warwick's gallantry I owe—
“The flower of chivalry and knighthood's pride,
“Then will my heart be satisfied. Brave Earl,
“Now must thou only take a Maiden's thanks.”

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Earl Warwick seized her hand. No word he spake.
He bore it to his lips, then waved adieu,
And, with the lingering look, slowly retired.

A Chieftain hastens near. Earnest he cried,
“All wait our Leader.” Warwick now descends
Down to the Castle's centre, under ground,
A dreary path, where, in due order ranged,
His troops awaited him, marshall'd and still,
The air was damp. The flaming torch, in vain,
Cast its dim rays against the mouldering walls;
Still, all was dark! And now the iron doors
Harshly unfold and grating, thro' the place
Sending terrific sounds. Warwick proceeds.
A torch before him blazed, yet all around
Was rayless midnight, where each form of hate
Dwelt undisturb'd, reptile and creeping thing.
Adown the steps they pass'd, if steps they were,
In ages past, hewn from the craggy rock,
And now obscured and fretted with the rains,
That, creeping thro' the fissures, to this place
Trickled, or from the shallow and dark roof,
Unceasing dripp'd, noiseless, and made the place
Cold, damp, and vapo'ry. Still they pass along,
Silent as sleep, save that the sliding foot,
And hollow tread, woke their peculiar sounds
Discordant, and oppress'd the serious heart.
Still on they pass, nor knowing where the path,
Winding might lead, to safety, or to death.
In darkest doubt, a cavern's mouth they reach!

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The stars appear!—till then a common sight,
But now, the fairest of creation fair.
“Onward!” Earl Warwick cried. “Speed, ardent, on!
“Safety before us waits, fetters behind!”
And now unpausing, thro' the midnight hours,
They urge their course toward Conway's battlements.

What thoughts were thine, O Eleanor, alone,
(Save thy one faithful maid) 'mid aged towers,
Spacious, all ivy-grown, where dwelt secure
Bats and the sullen owl, throughout the night,
Sounding their shrill ‘To-whoo’. No welcome sleep
Gently descended with its soothing aid.
Fair Eleanor, and her one damsel, press'd,
Near to each other, trembling, thro' the night,
And told their fears in whispers, which the walls,
Babbling, spread wide. The winds, throughout the night,
Among the lofty turrets, roar'd aloud,
Or, 'mid the ivy moan'd; whilst oftentimes
Some distant door screak'd on its heavy hinge,
Or closed impetuous, sending thro' the place
Deafening and lengthen'd peals, that died away,
Only, for other sounds, lofty or faint,
Fast foll'wing. Each mysterious voice they heard
Made both the nearer creep, and trembling gaze
One moment toward the spot, whence the sound came.
Faint beam'd the torch, and now distinct they heard
Footstep approaching! Each her breath restrain'd!
It nearer came. Lo! At the door it paus'd!—
A lonely dog it was, who thro' the space

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Himself half thrust, and seeing human form,
And loathing solitude, forward advanced,
His head low crouching and his moving tail
Speaking dumb joy. The quick extended hand,
Patting his neck and smoothing his rough side
Welcom'd the courteous stranger, whilst delight
Dwelt in the damsels' eyes. Each, silently,
Told her surprise, mingled with happiness.
For this her guardian, instant, each herself
Felt stout at heart. Fear seem'd an idle thing.
Tho' oft, in Eleanor's still anxious mind,
Reflection came, that armies were without,
And swords on slaughter bent; but quick the thought
Rose in her mind, with lulling influence,
That it was Cambria's Prince, the Lord she loved!
The brave Llewellyn. Tho' till then her heart,
As the first earthly object, had desired
His presence, now, that at the gate he stood,
And there was certainty, when the night pass'd,
Of seeing him, her spirit sank within.
She half regretted what she most desired:
And then, the way, the moment; such an hour,
So unexpected! Powerful sympathies
Turn'd toward Llewellyn, and her anxious heart
Conceived of his surprise; thus on her mind,
Thro' the long night crowding tumultuous thoughts.

The faint dawn glimmers in the orient sky,
Sent thro' the grated window. Eleanor
Cried, “Rise, O Maid! Thou to Llewellyn haste,

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“Yonder, in arms! Heed not the marshall'd front.
“Go boldly, and this spotless scarf extend,
“Emblem of Peace!” The Maiden silent rose,
And to the door pass'd on. The Dog upsprang:
Half way he follow'd her, then slowly turn'd,
Gazing on her he left. Doubtful he stood,
One moment, then to Eleanor return'd,
And by her side gently lay down to rest.

Soon as the morn appear'd, to those around
Llewellyn cried, intent upon his prize,
“For storm prepare! Erelong and we will make,
“This Castle ours, with Warwick's lofty Earl.”
All things are ready for the fierce assault.

Scarce had the dawn illumed the eastern sky,
When, 'cross the turf, a lonely damsel speeds,
Her white scarf waving. To the Cambrian force
Her way she bends, firm, tho' before her stand
Engines of death and terrors numberless.
So strange a sight fetters the warrior's eye.
She passes on and boldly now inquires,
“Where is Llewellyn?” To the Prince she speeds.
“And what of me?” he cried. The Maiden spake.
“Thou seekest Warwick—Warwick long hath fled!
“There is a secret path, thro' which he pass'd,
“Dark, subterraneous, a most dreary way,
“Leading beneath yon hill, and by this hour,
“Fast-speeding thro' the night, doubtless hath reach'd
“Conway, where now King Edward's forces wait.”

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Llewellyn wildly gazed. The damsel cried,
“I have yet other tidings for thine ear.
“In yonder Castle, one, who is thy friend,
“Waits to receive thee. More I may not say.
“Doubt not my words, but speed and prove them true.”
“A Friend!” Llewellyn cried. “Why came he not,
“E'en now, with thee? No man shall call me friend,
“Who in this day of peril hath not braced
“His sword for combat. Damsel, thou hast err'd!
“My Friend he cannot be! Warriors! Pursuit!
“Upon the crafty Warwick, follow hard!
“Coward! Our swords may yet retard his flight!”
With earnest speech, the Damsel cried again,
“Doubt not my words, brave Prince! One sojourns there,
“A friend that thou dost love, faithful and true,
“Whom shouldst thou shun, sorrow will be thy lot,
“And anguish and remorse, bitter as death.”
“Proceed!” Llewellyn cried, “A moment's pause,
“Zeal may recover.” Now the Damsel hastes,
Joyful; Llewellyn and his host behind.
They reach the castle, thro' the gate they pass.
The Maid precedes. Now, hurrying to the spot,
Where Eleanor abode (Llewellyn near,
Doubting the mystery) aloud she cried.
“Brave Prince, behold thy Friend!” Llewellyn starts!
“'Tis she!” He cried. Eager he rushes on!
And now his Eleanor clasps in his arms!

No word the Maiden spake, and he, whose heart
Had dared war's fiercest blast, trembling now stands,

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Silent and mild as infancy. He spake.
“My love! My Eleanor! My chief delight!
“This is an hour supreme of ecstasy.
“Thou still art dearer than the light of Heaven.”
Bathed in her tears of transport, she replied,
Only, by pressing to her trembling heart,
Closer, the man she prized. Llewellyn spake,
“Say! Best belov'd, if calmness thou possess
“For utt'rance, when thy heart so overflows,
“Say! Whence in moment and in place like this,
“Jewel, so rare, appears!” Thus Eleanor,
Faultering, replied.

“Know thou, for whom my heart
“Ills countless has sustain'd, and now, at length,
“In unexpected hour, so well repaid,
“Thus stand I here.—The pride of chivalry
“Is Warwick's Earl! A noble ancestry
“He boasts, and on the name hath sworn, to heap
“Accumulated honors, and renown,
“Lasting as earth. He bore me from a man,
“'Mid Gloster's towers, his blackest antitype,
“Talbot, inglorious name! Warwick I told
“Of our oft-plighted faith, even of the vows
“Solemn, I had exchanged with Cambria's Prince,
“Than fate, more firm. He, noble Earl, replied,
“To rescue Damsels from all threaten'd harm,
“And thraldom, is the knighthood oath I swore.
“And tho' ten thousand hills of steel arise
“To stem my purpose, as befitteth knight,

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“Guardian of woman's charms, I will disdain
“Each huge impediment, and break the spear,
“Unceasing, in the injured maiden's cause!”

Llewellyn cried. “Most brave! When such men breathe
“It is an honor to be born a man.
“Speak on, thou spirit mild!” Thus she pursued.

“Earl Warwick cried, ‘behold in me thy friend!—
“An English Earl, a Knight of ancient fame,
“Whose sword shall guard thee and whose spear defend,
“Tho' Demons rose to thwart his purposes.
“I have a high design. Renounce thy fears!
“Edward, our King, sends me, with veterans true
“To conquer Dinevawr, then to direct
“My course toward Gwyned, scattering round dismay.
“This must I do. Allegiance to my Prince,
“And honor's voice, prompt my fidelity,
“Yet, where the generous deed, warfare allows,
“I am not backward. Damsel, mark my words!
“Thou, with some maiden faithful, e'en with me,
“Shalt enter Cambria, and my faith I plight,
“At some convenient hour, spotless of harm,
“To send thee to Llewellyn, a brave man,
“Altho' a foe.’ With Warwick's Earl, I pass'd
“Thro' Dinevawr, thro' Powis, and at length,
“This Castle we attain'd. Thou in that hour
“Encircled'st us, and Warwick, and his men,
“Prepared for valiant fight. One told the Earl
“Of a dark passage, underneath the hill;

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“A covert path, for secret purposes,
“Whence they might flee. At dead of night they pass'd
“Thro' that same way. Ere then, Earl Warwick cried,
“‘Now must I leave thee. Maiden thou shalt meet
“Him whom thou lov'st, whilst I, myself prepare,
“Instant, for flight. Damsel, a last adieu!
“Where'er thou go'st, whatever be thy home,
“Angles, with most especial vigilance,
“Protect thee, and their choicest gifts impart.’
“He said and thro' the passage urged his way.”

Llewellyn spake, “My Eleanor! My Pride!
“Now are we happy!” Sudden thro' his breast,
Corroding, an unutterable pang
Shot deadly. Of the lengthen'd war he thought,
And something of a dark uncertainty
Hung o'er his mind. Perplex'd, awhile he stood,
Mute, whilst fair Eleanor her speech pursued.

“I mourn, my Lord! that, at an hour, when joy
“Should light our eyes, and, on the past, our tongue
“Dwell only to augment our sum of bliss;
“That at this hour, War, with his blasting trump,
“On every side should sound, and thy brave mind
“Be harass'd, whilst thy hands those weapons bear.”

Llewellyn sigh'd. When the quick smile he shew'd,
Offspring of firmness, and thus answer made.
“Grieve not, my Eleanor! The cloud, tho' dark,
“Valour will soon disperse, and present cares

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“Serve only to augment our future joy.—
“Know, Maid beloved! Prosperity is ours!
“Castles, by England won, the Cambrian arm
“Hath rescued, whilst high prisoners grace our train—
“Pembroke and Mortimer—Earls far renown'd!
“E'en Edward, our fierce foe, with this good axe,
“I beat from Conway's loftiest battlements!
“Headlong he fell to earth!” “But is he dead?”
Eager, cried Eleanor. “No!” Spake the Prince.
“The Saxon lives till we do meet again.
“On Snowdon's giddy brow, we have a tower,
“Sacred to fame, and dear to liberty,
“Whence our forefathers drove our enemies,
“Whoever trod that mountain eminence,
“Back, deluged with disgrace. There at this hour,
“Cambria's brave veterans wait, courting the fight,
“Should Edward dare that lofty pinnacle.
“A contest hastens on with our great Foe,
“A deadly strife. Nay, Eleanor, forbear
“That look of sudden horror! We must meet!
“It is decreed that on the Cambrian hills,
“Fierce as ten thousand storms, Edward must fight
“Llewellyn, guardian of his father's fame:
“And if this venturous King live to return,
“It is that palsying cowardice hath seized
“This arm of mine, and terror drench'd this heart.
“Thou little know'st, with what consuming zeal
“Our gallant subjects long to meet the foe,
“And measure swords and poise the vengeful spear:
“Thou little know'st what thousands, at this hour

257

“Pant for the combat, and thou little know'st
“The strength of Snowdon. Let no creeping fear
“Hang round thy heart. Days of rejoicing wait,
“And high festivities. Brace up thy mind.
“And look beyond the storm, where the sun shines.
“If aught that wears the semblance of concern
“Presses within, it is, O Eleanor,
“That thou art in the midst of Camps and Wars;
“Thy tender frame may tremble, and the scene,
“Where danger is not, harrow up thy fears.
“For thee I mourn.”

“Nay,” Eleanor replied,
“I have a heart can stoop to circumstance.
“Mourn not for me. Altho' I Gallia left,
“Hoping, 'mid peace, to visit Cambria's land,
“And meet Llewellyn, yet the tide of things
“Running most cross—for thee alone I speak—
“If seem thee meet, I, to the shore I left,
“Will hasten, yet again, and wait the hours,
“Till thou hast conquer'd peace and fresh renown.”
Llewellyn cried. “Best treasure here below!
“Let thee depart! Again re-cross the seas,
“And buffet with the waves, haply more fierce,
“For an uncertain future, clad in grey!
“Renounce the fairest jewel in my crown!
“Not for all diadems Earth calls her own!
“The war erelong will cease; glory afresh
“Irradiate Cambria, whilst our foes retire
“Discomfited, before out furious lance.

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“Some stout and trusty hearts, straight will I send
“Toward Aber, our abode, the palace fair
“Which longs to hail its mistress. Bitter hours
“Are they which roll between our happiness!
“O War! Thy haggard front, never, till now,
“Saw I so hateful. Tho' thou barr'st awhile
“Our hoped felicity, the hours are near,
“Our nuptial hours, when on no dubious throne,
“Thou sittest, whilst all Cambria stoops and smiles.
“But now, far other scenes hang on our rear;
“Mark me, O Eleanor, my heart's best joy!
“Thou now must speed with me toward Dolbadarn.
“There is our stand, and there thy home must be,
“Till we have hurried from our mountain heights
“These ravenous wolves, and won immortal fame.”

Thus Eleanor replied. “These are strange scenes,
“According ill with peace and solitude,
“Such as I knew beneath a mother's wing,
“Ere I to meet Llewellyn cross'd the seas:
“Yet mourn I not. In all that thou canst bear,
“Would not my heart participate, in joy
“Alike, or sorrow? Let me share a part,
“In all thy triumphs, and if Heaven see fit
“To give thee darker days, thine Eleanor,
“Shall sooth thy spirit, and her constancy
“Be thy support, when fortune leaves thee sad.”

Llewellyn clasp'd her hand. “Best gift of Heaven!”
Earnest he cried, “our loves, the Bard shall sing,

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“Yet to be born. Faithful this heart shall prove,
“Through future days, aspiring to deserve,
“By all that tender is, such love as thine.
“Now, 'till the wars are o'er, thy brief abode
“Be Dolbadarn, the Castle of the Clouds.”
The Maiden smiled assent, when with light heart,
Llewellyn and the Damsel and the Host
Of hardy Warriors, sought old Snowdon's brow.

In chivalrous times, when the King wanted a particular Chieftain, instead of vociferating his name, he merely called on his arms, which was well understood by the attendant Squire, and who immediately brought the person required. This custom originated in necessity, for the general armour of Knights being similar, there was scarcely any way of distinguishing a particular commander, except by his arms, which were painted on his shield and embroidered behind, on his surcoat or mantle, as well as on the caparison of his horse. Every individual was known by his arms, with as much promptitude and accuracy as the various flags of a fleet are by modern seamen.

Immense masses of snow often fall from the summits of the Norway mountains, by which sometimes whole villages are borne down and destroyed. By one of these snow-falls a village, situated between Quinherret and Hardanger, was wholly covered and so remains to this day. The snow which had thus fallen from the adjacent mountains, not dissolving the year after, was augmented the following year, and progressively hardened and increased, till it became a mountain of snow. Many lives werelost by this disaster, and as a rivulet runs under the snow it often brings out knives, scissars and other implements belonging once to the unfortunate inhabitants. Such accidents are common amongst the Alps.