Occasional Poems by Mr Colvill. The Second Edition |
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THE FIELD OF FLOWDON,
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 | Occasional Poems |  |
THE FIELD OF FLOWDON,
A DESCRIPTIVE POEM.
They have fallen like the oak of the desart, when it lies across a stream, and withers in the wind of the mountains.
Such were the words of the Bards in the days of the song, when the King heard the music of harps, and the tales of other times.
Ossian.Was drench'd in blood, of gallant heroes slain,
No more the dread of foes in fight, no more their countries shield;
Beset with ghastly spectres round,
A horrid shade with Gorgon terrors crown'd
The grizly monarch hover'd o'er,
And flapp'd his weary pinions dropping gore,
Like a fell vulture gorg'd among the dead.
The fiend of discord rear'd her snaky head,
Her demons howl, her vengeful torches wave,
She stalks where dead men groan, she haunts red Tillus wat'ry grave.
The slow'r of Caledon, the great, the good,
Their snowy limbs lac'd with their golden blood,
Groan furth their souls: vain was their warlike might,
In vain sat vict'ry on their plumy crest ;
In vain the mighty sunk o'erpowr'd
Beneath the brandish'd lightning of their sword;
Heav'n seals their doom: Leave, leave ye fair!
Your gaudy looms, and other weeds prepare:
Prepare your sable weeds, in honour of the brave;
And weave your true love's winding-sheet for his untimely grave.
With loud tongu'd harps, to hail your Lord's return;
How sadly change the chords of joy, to wail his hapless fate!
No more victorious from the foughten plain,
He loads you with the treasures of the slain;
No more enthron'd amid his warlike peers
Enjoys the martial song of former years;
The strength of war, the people's shield
Lies stretch'd in Flowdon's fatal field:
Like Mars he led the host with rising morn ,
At eve a fall'n star, of all his radiant glories shorn.
And gash'd with many a streaming wound,
The valiant sunk their Prince around,
And stretch'd their gory limbs in honour's bed.
Hush'd was the horrid din of arms,
The neighing steed the victor's proud alarms;
Deep silence reign'd, save o'er the purpl'd heath
Ascend with awful pause, the heavy groans of death:
Save that with dolorous horns afar,
Surry drew off his broken ranks of war;
He mourn'd his bowmen fall'n in fight,
And veil'd his trembling fears, in the dun shades of night.
With martial trumps and clanging arms,
Such as might rouse the dead to war's alarms,
Shook all the hills and valleys steep,
And startl'd the quick ear of coward sleep,
The dying heroes bless'd the warlike sound.
Thrice Douglas, where he press'd the bloody ground
Amidst his foes, his dreadful crest display'd,
And thrice he wav'd his flaming blade,
“O Heav'n! might Douglas rise to see
The pride of England laid in dust, his king and country free.”
With St. Clair, Maxwell, Gordon bold,
Like bloody lions panting o'er their prey,
Attend with joy their shouting phalanx boast.
And thou fall'n captain of a mighty host!
Heroic James! thy gen'rous swelling soaul
Deep groaning o'er thy people's bitter dole,
Their strength, their glory fall'n by doom of war,
Hover'd a while and sooth'd thy sad despair;
He heard his trumpet blow, he saw his banners fly,
And, smiling in the pangs of death, sprung to the starry sky.
The tomb of parricide, thy children's grave;
Nor Tillus thine! still seek Tweed's wat'ry shore,
Thy guilty head still strive to hide,
And plunge thee in a purer tide;
In vain! the story of thy crimes
Shall chill the bold to future times:
The sheeted ghost shall haunt thy stream,
Night ravens wail with doleful scream,
And birds of prey: this treach'rous flood
Beheld thy sons, O Scotland! slain, and drunk her children's blood.
Beating their tender breasts fond mothers wail;
And bathe each mangl'd corse with briny tears in vain.
Tho' a whole land in sackloth mourn'd,
And foes their rage to pity turn'd,
Still shall the muse deplore their doom;
Still mark with her rude verse the hero's tomb.
The sick'ning sun withdrew his clouded light,
The fiends relenting groan'd to the sad night;
The night her pearly dews soft sorrows shed,
And dunnest shades, her mantle kind, flung o'er the silent dead.
Where low the clay-cold hero lies:
Tho' here no pomp of fun'ral obsequies,
No martial trophies led, no steeds of state,
And Freedom haunt the hallow'd grave;
Their deeds high in historic page
Shall rise their monument to every age:
Their Sword could turn the battle's tide,
Their Country's Love all death defy'd;
Their Soul of Glory then most loyal found
When with their Lord his Chieftains fell, transfix'd with many an wound.
And noisy clamour hell's foul harpies tear
Your eagle-pinion'd fame to heav'n doth fly,
Your fame thro' the wide world is heard;
This race victorious Cesar fear'd,
And Edward humbled in a bloody field;
And captive Piercy with his English bow,
Extoll'd the arm, which laid his blushing honours low
The chance of war is heav'ns dread doom,
The hand of fate, now Scotland, brings thy heroes to the tomb.
Whose prowess now shall save a sinking land,
Or who fell fire and sword withstand?
I see the horrid fiends come on afar,
Amazement leads, as o'er the plain
Rude desolation pours amain:
Oppression rears her scourge of snakes,
Her iron chain grim bondage shakes,
Famine with faded form is there,
And pallid grief, and sullen care,
And direful pestilence with death combin'd
Sweeping with wasteful scythe, the remnant of mankind.
Bright smiling peace with winged doves, descends:
And back to hell's abode Bellona's furies fly.
The land renews her wonted pride,
Her past'ral reed on green hill side
Resounds; the purple light of morn
Smiles o'er the vales of waving corn;
Peace soothes with healing hand a nation's stound,
And pours her lenitive in ev'ry wound,
Unlocks the current of Britannia's fame,
Her growing strength, her rising arts, her patriots kindling flame.
Two jealous realms, she calms their ancient hate,
Bids Freedom's banner wave, extends firm Union's golden chain.
No more two sister-nations wage
Detested war, with barb'rous civil rage:
The sword of parricide is stain'd no more,
And their descending faulchions blush with only foreign gore.
Till great Bavar and vanquish'd Gallia yield.
Till fame resound, and lasting laurels grow
To wreathe Britannia's crown, to shade her Malbro's warlike brow.
When George thy sceptre sway'd with ample reign
And mighty tyrants sunk beneath the light'ning of thy spear.
I hear thy naval thunders roar,
See Gallia tremble to her utmost shore,
See Ferdinand! thy triumphant banners sly
In Minden's fatal field; beneath another sky
I see thy tow'rs imperial Quebec bow!
Manilla's walls, Havannah's strength laid low,
While Scotland great in ev'ry field
Thy bloody faulchion thins the war, resounds thy dreadful shield.
In whom renew'd thine ancient glories burn,
Rise like the Phoenix from his parent's urn:
Like Mars another Douglas shakes the plain.
Campbell, Cathcart, and Murray bear afar,
Thy banners through the prostrate ranks of war.
Lothian, Montgomery see, the gallant Graham,
And mighty Stewarts build thy growing fame:
Another patriot, Scot, his country's prop,
Great Gordon, Hamilton, Lyon, gen'rous Hope,
Hay, Irvine, Primrose, Marchmont toil to raise
Fam'd Caledon thy tow'ring head, now blest with golden days.
By foreign fields and barb'rous civil rage;
George shuts war's adamantine gates, on golden hinges turn'd .
He calls his princely States around,
His Senate bold, yet faithful found,
To hear a kingdom's good display'd,
And prop the public cause by their confed'rate aid.
They come, they come, a Pattriot Band,
The envy and the dread of every land:
When HE the world's delight thus spoke from his imperial throne.
“On whom their oracle the listning world does wait,
“And scepter'd monarchs to enquire their fate,
“Attend like gracious Heav'n and seal their doom!
“By virtue's arts refine mankind,
“And train to what is great and good the fierce barbarians mind.
“Oppression curb, her lifted rod restrain,
“Nor hear the Gods blasphem'd, and justice plead in vain:
“But chiefly toil to build Rome's mighty fame
“On public virtues; quench the guilty flame
“That poison of our empire's weal, which taints her springs of life.”
“Not sordid gold, nor robes of Tyrian dye,
“Not revels loose of wasteful luxury,
“But temp'rance, like a virgin pure, unstain'd with modern crimes.
“Thus Curius bore your fame afar,
“And Scipio hail'd the thunder-bolt of war;
“And great Emilius rear'd his laurel'd head:
“A sober firm united soul,
“In these could all the subject world controle:
“Their wealth was glory, their contention great,
“To build with one consenting mind high Rome's imperial state.”
The scale of empire, while the nations come
From eastern Ganges, to enquire their doom,
And scepter'd Kings from India's western plain;
While millions thro' the peopl'd land,
Look to be bless'd, inspire the ardent band
Of chosen Patriots; rouse the extinguish'd flame
Of ancient worth, which the rude world did tame;
Blaze in the Senate till renew'd by thee
The Public Virtues rise in glorious harmony;
Till vice and faction from their throne be hurl'd,
And Britain's Empire rise the dread and envy of the world.
All historians allow, that, in the beginning of this fatal conflict, the King of Scots carried all before him, and, with the forces from the north, intirely routed that part of the English army, where the Earl of Surry had placed his son Sir Edward Howard, one, who, in respect of valour, and personal courage, was inferior to none.
James performed wonders, as the historian observes. He dismounted from his horse, and commanding all his nobles and gentlemen, who fought next his person, to do the like, he spread fear and death wherever he turned his force: but in the end, this brave battalion was overpowered by numbers. The noblest and bravest of the army then formed themselves into a ring, and refusing quarter, fought to the last, choosing rather to fall with that Prince by an honourable death, than to save their lives by an ignominious flight.
John Douglas Earl of Morton, with George Master of Angus, and many brave men of their vassals, were among the slain.
Archibald Campbell Earl of Argyle, Malcolm Stuart Earl of Lennox, William Sinclair Earl of Caithness, John Lord Maxwell, and his three brothers, Alexander Gordon Marquis of Huntly, were among many who made that day lamentable to their country by their death.
The river Till which rises out of Cheviot hills, runs by Wooler, and falls, after a winding course, into the Tweed. This the English passed at Melford, and hard by on a declivity, since famous by the name Flowdon, was this battle fought.
The invectives of modern scurrility and national abuse, cannot fail to rouse in every honest mind a just indignation. What venom of this kind has been of late vented to the shame of human nature! vented most undeservedly against a generous, free, and warlike people! The authors and abettors of such impotent malignity are equally contemptible, and the mischief they design'd, like the wicked counsel of Achitophel, recoils upon themselves. The glory of an intrepid, virtuous, loyal, and great nation will be acknowledged by future ages with admiration, while the very memorial of the man who reviles his country, defies his sovereign, and blasphemes his God, shall perish, lest even the recollection of such monstrous wickedness, should contaminate the principles of posterity.
Historians agree that the Roman legions never could reduce the Caledonians or North Britons, but contented themselves with building the famous rampart known by the name of Graham's Dyke, to restrain the inroads of the brave race, who, notwithstanding, carried fire and sword into the Roman Province, wearied out the patient valour of the legionaries, and obliged the emperors at last to relinquish all their conquests, and give up their claim to Britain.
King of Norway, now part of Denmark. He arrived nigh the island of Bute with 160 sail, 20,000 soldiers, was intirely routed especially by Alexander Stuart the great grandfather of James I.
The famous defeat at Bannockburn, when Edward II, engaging with a handful of brave veterans under Robert the Bruce, lost his whole army, and relinquished his conquests.
William Douglas son to Lord Archibald, laid waste England to the gates of York; gained the famous battle of Otterburn against Lord Henry Piercy. The young hero Douglas lost his life; and Piercy, with his brother, and many others, were carried prisoners to Scotland.
The uniting of two great nations, whose fierce contentions had often proved fatal to themselves, and spread terror and ruin among their neighbouring kingdoms. The forming these by the solemn consent of the states, into one firm, free, and happy constitution, is one of the most memorable events which we meet with in the British annals. Every man's particular advantage under the happy union of the two nations, obliges him to acknowledge so fortunate an event, and he must be very insensible who can look back upon these great patriots who brought about so excellent a state of union and government, and not feel his breast warm with gratitude; and worse than insensible, who can go about with malevolent designs to interrupt this harmony of government, and divide a nation against itself.
Under the present auspicious reign, the success attending the British arms has been as great and extensive, as was ever known in any period whatever.
This successful monarch has carried his victorious arms through every quarter of the world; places of strength the most remote, and deemed impregnable, have been reduced; the interests of Britain, and the glory of her arms have been supported through the Mogul's empire by an officer of character from North Britain, with lasting honour to his brave battalions, and with glory and advantage to his king and country. A great general, seconded by an experienced and successful admiral, have accomplished the conquest of the French empire in North America. The many laurels reaped in Germany by a great personage, whose courage, ability, and good fortune, will astonish after-ages, intirely humbled the pride of the enemies of Great Britain; and the great part which the Scots nation bore in all these conquests, has justly procured them the thanks of the country, and of the sovereign.
Our present sovereign brought the war, by his signal and repeated victories to a glorious conclusion. He gave laws to the two mighty monarchies of France and Spain; he gave peace like the father of his people to his kingdoms, and to the whole world. Ever ready to promote the good of his subjects, to defend their rights, to advance commerce, and the liberal arts, to temper judgment with mercy, it can be no flattery to compare him to that great emperor Titus Vespasian, whose beneficence and shining virtues intitled him to the appellation of deliciae humani generis, the delight of mankind.
A noble Roman, whose frugality and honesty was equal to his most undaunted courage: Having conquered Pyrrhus, he divided the lands of Rome, to every man four acres, saying, “None should be a captain, who could not live hardy like a soldier.” When offered a bribe by the enemies of his country, he rejected it with disdain, saying, “He would rather be ruler over the rich, than rich himself.”
A Roman senator, who, having long struggled to reduce the power of Carthage, sailed over to Africa, sack'd Carthage, and advanced the glory of the republic to its greatest splendor.
The elder Cato, a noted soldier, and moralist. He subdued great part of Spain. His grandson Cato Uticensis is famous for his opposition to Caesar, when he invaded the liberties of Rome.
Paulus Emilius. The disinterestedness of this Roman was remarkable. Having conquered Macedon, he brought all the spoil of that ancient and opulent kingdom into the public treasury, reserving nothing to himself, but the glory he so justly acquired by his uncommon love to his country, and his attention to support her interest.
| Occasional Poems | |