Claribel and Other Poems By W. J. Linton |
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THE BATTLE OF NEWBURY |
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 | Claribel and Other Poems |  |
75
THE BATTLE OF NEWBURY
That harvest night we lay in the fields, impatient of the dark,
All eager for the trumpet's voice to rouse the slothful lark;
For the king had sent his challenge out to Essex and the Right,
And Essex flung his answer back—We meet at morning's light.
All eager for the trumpet's voice to rouse the slothful lark;
For the king had sent his challenge out to Essex and the Right,
And Essex flung his answer back—We meet at morning's light.
O many a sleepless eye, be sure! that night did watch the stars,
Their silent marches following, so high above our jars;
And many a thought might stoop toward the melancholy earth,
Whereto so soon we must return for all our martial worth.
Their silent marches following, so high above our jars;
And many a thought might stoop toward the melancholy earth,
Whereto so soon we must return for all our martial worth.
76
Even they might ponder in such sort—those reckless cavaliers;
And our raw troopers be forgiven for some unharden'd fears:
Not fears! natheless we may be dull in the shadow of the fray,
With brothers in the hostile camp, dead brothers ere a day.
And our raw troopers be forgiven for some unharden'd fears:
Not fears! natheless we may be dull in the shadow of the fray,
With brothers in the hostile camp, dead brothers ere a day.
Now with the dawn King Charles' part on the hill-top stand array'd,
Their ordnance planted, horse and foot in their battalions made;
And many of their captains brave have thrown their doublets off,—
Not so intending battle-heat, but rather triumphscoff.
Their ordnance planted, horse and foot in their battalions made;
And many of their captains brave have thrown their doublets off,—
Not so intending battle-heat, but rather triumphscoff.
Charge up the hill!—Prince Rupert's horse have met our first attack,
With mighty dint upon our force, the foremost pressing back;
The tide of our assault recoils, but the wave flows up again,
Another, and another yet, the foremost to sustain.
With mighty dint upon our force, the foremost pressing back;
The tide of our assault recoils, but the wave flows up again,
Another, and another yet, the foremost to sustain.
77
Right fiercely Rupert's cavalry salute our city bands;
But the blue-coat Londoners are staunch, their regiment firmly stands.
Repulsed, the horse wheel round again; charge back, and ours reply,—
Till they do not wheel but reel away from our sharp musketry.
But the blue-coat Londoners are staunch, their regiment firmly stands.
Repulsed, the horse wheel round again; charge back, and ours reply,—
Till they do not wheel but reel away from our sharp musketry.
And yet a third attempt they make, dashing in squadrons full,
Striving to break our serried ranks with valour masterful;
But the bullet-cloud athwart them bursts, o'erthrowing man and horse.
Methinks they will not dare again repeat so warm a course.
Striving to break our serried ranks with valour masterful;
But the bullet-cloud athwart them bursts, o'erthrowing man and horse.
Methinks they will not dare again repeat so warm a course.
On swiftly now! Lord Essex leads; his white hat is our guide,
One single wreath of snowy foam upon the ocean's pride.
On sharply! drive them back once more! on! rally yet again!
Beat them from hedge to hedge until scarce two or three remain.
One single wreath of snowy foam upon the ocean's pride.
On sharply! drive them back once more! on! rally yet again!
Beat them from hedge to hedge until scarce two or three remain.
78
Meanwhile the fight holds otherwhere. A mile below the hill
They have fallen on our rearmost guard: speed down to check their will!
But we pause in mid career, till some the opponent force have known;
For they too wear the furze and broom we took to mark our own.
They have fallen on our rearmost guard: speed down to check their will!
But we pause in mid career, till some the opponent force have known;
For they too wear the furze and broom we took to mark our own.
Spur through the traitors!—Up again to Essex on the brow!
Where the royal ordnance was at dawn our ordnance climbeth now;
One with another they dispute, 'gainst cannon cannon's mouth,
As if the battle with the day but rose to sultrier growth.
Where the royal ordnance was at dawn our ordnance climbeth now;
One with another they dispute, 'gainst cannon cannon's mouth,
As if the battle with the day but rose to sultrier growth.
And ever the sturdy Londoners oppose the hottest fray;
Open to horse and ordnance both, 'gainst odds they make their way;
And overmatch'd with mightier odds yet stand undauntedly:
The Rupert can not scatter them, they know not how to fly.
Open to horse and ordnance both, 'gainst odds they make their way;
And overmatch'd with mightier odds yet stand undauntedly:
The Rupert can not scatter them, they know not how to fly.
79
Even as a grove of pines, that doth the tempest-rage endure,
Their heads or branching arms may wave, they keep their footing sure:
So these are firmly rooted there, or, only honourmoved,
Step forward, gaining on the foe some vantage-ground approved.
Their heads or branching arms may wave, they keep their footing sure:
So these are firmly rooted there, or, only honourmoved,
Step forward, gaining on the foe some vantage-ground approved.
And so, till darkness sundered us. Yet neither host withdrew;
Only upon the hill's far side their horse safe distance knew,
With the broken remnant of their foot gather'd behind them there;
Our men no less too wearied are to give them much of care.
Only upon the hill's far side their horse safe distance knew,
With the broken remnant of their foot gather'd behind them there;
Our men no less too wearied are to give them much of care.
Another morning: we remain the masters of the field.
They drew off in the night: their chief a broken hope did wield.
We are marshall'd, ready; none appear to the challenge of our shot;
One shout—for Newbury field is ours! Prince Rupert turneth not.
They drew off in the night: their chief a broken hope did wield.
We are marshall'd, ready; none appear to the challenge of our shot;
One shout—for Newbury field is ours! Prince Rupert turneth not.
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Four earls of Charles' part have fallen, and many hundred more
Of English-hearted foemen whom their brother foes deplore.
For either side like Englishmen did war with might and main.
God send such mournful victory be needed ne'er again!
Of English-hearted foemen whom their brother foes deplore.
For either side like Englishmen did war with might and main.
God send such mournful victory be needed ne'er again!
And Falkland lieth there at peace, whose spirit was so sad—
That lofty spirit—for the wounds his hapless country had.
They say—he own'd him tired of life ere we began the fight.
Well might he be most sad, who knew he strove against the Right.
That lofty spirit—for the wounds his hapless country had.
They say—he own'd him tired of life ere we began the fight.
Well might he be most sad, who knew he strove against the Right.
Shout we again for Newbury field—the righteous victory!
We shall hear an echoing triumph-shout before a month goes by.
Shine thou on Cromwell's Waisby sheaf, O Newbury's harvest moon!
‘Charge through!’ ay, through! ‘for Truth, and Peace’—the truthful conqueror's boon.
We shall hear an echoing triumph-shout before a month goes by.
Shine thou on Cromwell's Waisby sheaf, O Newbury's harvest moon!
‘Charge through!’ ay, through! ‘for Truth, and Peace’—the truthful conqueror's boon.
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