The Dawn in Britain :: :: University of Virginia Library

When told these tidings, in the Maiden's Hill;
Which newly, again, Caratacus hath beset;
And purged, with fire and lime; and wells, with pitch:
Standing, midst thicket, of tall glittering spears,
Great-voiced warsire of Britons, he set forth,
The intolerable wrongs of stranger Romans!
Have humbled them, in warfare, stranger gods;
And weakened are the tribes, by pestilence;
Yet when to bandy again, shall Britons' gods
Please, strange usurping soldiers to Mainland;
Shall Gauls anew, them chace, beyond vast Alps,
And tread down Roma; and Italy shall burn;
And every nation take again her own!

Builds these days strongholds, on both sides the Thames,
The legate. But in forest, unsubdued,
(Where, to him, who most valorous of his part,
Come from East March: and in bowers of green boughs,

Those wonne, and under trees,) lurks Antethrigus;
Whose wont is sally, unwares, on abhorred Romans;
And kill, in night's thick murkness, and cut-off.

Journeying now the proprætor unto Aquæ,
Sends word, before, to Flavius, with his legion;
To meet him in the path: which known to Maglos;
Down from the Maiden's Hill, descend caterfs,
Twelve thousand spears, with king Caratacus:
And, suddenly, when a Summer day nigh ended,
Those, running, fall on Aulus' rearward cohorts;
And on their carriage seize, and shrink the Romans.

Then Aulus, on the morrow, in green plain,
Led forth, sets wide array, against the Britons;
Hoping chastise those mingled loose caterfs:
But issues not, from wood, Caratacus.

Then Aulus, ware and heedful, slowly marches,
Each day, few hours, exploring wide, with horse;
And oft he halts, and must, with Britons, fight;
That have each thicket-hill, beside the path,
Beset. In that, warlord Caratacus,
Much dreading Romans should Duneda's town,
(For now their cohorts, by mid-Duffreynt, pass,)
Attempt; before him urgent messengers sent,
To Isca. Hardly were repulsed caterfs,
One noon, when Romans lodge; and semblant make,

Casting high bank, dig large their castrum fosse,
And deep: but silent, in that night's midwatch,
Left thousand fires, from decumanian gate,
The legate led, his legions' cohorts forth:
And, won ground of blue Britons, Aulus passed,
Beyond some perilous passage. Yet, next night,
With guides, by moonlight, the proprætor marched;
And outwent Britons. Thence, young valorous Titus,
To that Dumnonian dune, he sends, with horse;
To view the situation and the walls.
Rides, and turns, on the spur, by moonlight, Titus!

Heard his relation, Aulus to the tribunes,
Commands, that, this day, rest within the vallum,
Their legions; they, at changing of the watch,
To-night, shall march. To captains of Gauls' horse,
Aulus prescribes; at point of day, they were
The Britons' wall, so nigh; that when, their cattle
And hinds and market-folk first, issue forth;
They, in full career, might occupy the gate.

Day dawns; and now approaching Roman army,
Is seen from height of king Duneda's court;
How, in low combe, thick-glittering cohorts march!
Journeyed, to-night, twixt Isca and the legions;

Also Caratacus hath. He blows grave war-horns,
On woody hill. Duneda, heard that note,
With warriors, sallies from his river-part.
(Men hastily gathered, to the king, in arms,
Both of his own and warlike neighbour marches,
Which were not, in the field, with Caradoc.)
He stands, mongst their tall spears, in royal scythe-cart.

Run forth, whom Kowain leads, stout Iscan youth,
From East-gate; and hold shouting on, gainst Romans.
Come to hand-strokes, their left do wrest aside
The enemies' shields; their fierce right hands stab soldiers;
Or furious, on their bronze helms, sledge with stones:
And labouring reel the cohorts' ordinance.

But cry, in that, went up, from the town part!
They looking back, behold their city's smoke,
As from a pot, above her bulwarks rise:
And breaks forth, lo, dread tumult, at her gates;
Wherein they left their wives and little ones.

Naught more hear words their ears, (nor heed their hearts;)
Of who them leads: they turn their unfenced backs;
And all, again, towards flaming Isca, rush.
They throng to gate, where terrible is now press;

And Romans, at their necks, impetuous ride.
Few, that might enter, meet, in their own streets,
With Gauls' horse; men that having fired the dune,
Themselves now flying, bear them through, with spears!

Duneda riding, in one battle-wain,
With Hælion, stood in act to hurl his javelin!
When suddenly, split, under their feet, the chariot.
At the cross-wents, had swerved his teaméd steeds;
Where, (grown now green,) is Mormael's mounded grave!
Howled hounds, steeds boggled; the lord's axe-tree pight,
On some mere-stone: his lynch-pin brake, and strakes
And fellies were dissolved. Sore bruised, on ground,
Lies, hurled, Dumnonians' sire. Him, uneath, Hælion,
In mortal press, with flower of the king's champions,
Then saved! The lord they lift, upon an horse.
His very hounds, to save the fallen sire,
Fight; when fell, one on other, the king's warriors,
Under Gauls' spears, and glaives of expedite cohorts.