 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
Now when the Icenian hero, Antethrigus,
(Who lurks, still, in green forest, unsubdued,
And meditates, aye, new warlike stratagems,)
Had word, of cohorts' camp, that gather tribute;
He wicker maunds, on chines of hundred beves,
Lays; wherein he twice hundred champions hides;
And with them he sends other, that seem hinds;
Drivers, with skeans bound, neath their blanket-bratts.
Again young Madron is their hardy captain.
(Who lurks, still, in green forest, unsubdued,
And meditates, aye, new warlike stratagems,)
Had word, of cohorts' camp, that gather tribute;
He wicker maunds, on chines of hundred beves,
Lays; wherein he twice hundred champions hides;
And with them he sends other, that seem hinds;
Drivers, with skeans bound, neath their blanket-bratts.
Again young Madron is their hardy captain.
Some wend before, in guise of Dobuni:
And these allege, come to the camps of legions;
For carriage of the tribute-corn, and drift
Of thousand beves; except by covert night,
They durst not journey, for Caratacus.
And these allege, come to the camps of legions;
For carriage of the tribute-corn, and drift
Of thousand beves; except by covert night,
They durst not journey, for Caratacus.
Those droves, come, in dim night, to castrum port;
Suffer centurions of the watch, to pass,
Beves' train, tumultuous. Light them some ones forth,
Whereas the tribute-grain, borne on their beasts'
Chines, they might, in the open place, discharge.
Lapped, in their saies, come shivering Roman soldiers,
From leathern tents, (now chill is the night season;)
For joy, see all this victual. Covert word,
Spake Madron! Suddenly those stout drivers, glaives
Drawn, in fierce heat; then smite unready soldiers!
Men, from those double maunds, now leap to ground!
An hundred and an hundred, tall armed champions;
Chace then the oxen, bellowing, furious;
Which, on their wide-embowéd horns, bear forth,
And trample, as cockt hay, the tents of soldiers!
Britons, with dreadful yells, all, rushing, slay,
That come within their hands, to the camp-walls;
Where, (like as ploughman, at his furlong's end;)
Drive, their fierce beasts about, those Briton warriors.
Suffer centurions of the watch, to pass,
91
Whereas the tribute-grain, borne on their beasts'
Chines, they might, in the open place, discharge.
Lapped, in their saies, come shivering Roman soldiers,
From leathern tents, (now chill is the night season;)
For joy, see all this victual. Covert word,
Spake Madron! Suddenly those stout drivers, glaives
Drawn, in fierce heat; then smite unready soldiers!
Men, from those double maunds, now leap to ground!
An hundred and an hundred, tall armed champions;
Chace then the oxen, bellowing, furious;
Which, on their wide-embowéd horns, bear forth,
And trample, as cockt hay, the tents of soldiers!
Britons, with dreadful yells, all, rushing, slay,
That come within their hands, to the camp-walls;
Where, (like as ploughman, at his furlong's end;)
Drive, their fierce beasts about, those Briton warriors.
The cohorts' watch, which fight against them, there,
They overrun. Being come to vallum-port;
They slay, themselves, their beves and choke the gate,
With carcasés; that might not soon Gauls' horse,
Thence, after them, pursue. A score, no more,
Be fallen of East-men; but run down, with sweat,
Their warlike limbs, and ache their strong hand-wrists,
Of their much vehement smiting; whilst, of Romans,
They, in their camps have slain, the souls descend,
To their pale sires, that tremble yet, for Brennus.
They overrun. Being come to vallum-port;
They slay, themselves, their beves and choke the gate,
With carcasés; that might not soon Gauls' horse,
Thence, after them, pursue. A score, no more,
Be fallen of East-men; but run down, with sweat,
Their warlike limbs, and ache their strong hand-wrists,
92
They, in their camps have slain, the souls descend,
To their pale sires, that tremble yet, for Brennus.
But fight on, in their castra, legionaries,
Supposing were their foes all, in night murk,
Which of strange speech. Smite Romans their allies,
(Gauls and Batavians.) Last, when morrow breaks,
Gathered their slain; they bury, as twelve-score soldiers!
Supposing were their foes all, in night murk,
Which of strange speech. Smite Romans their allies,
(Gauls and Batavians.) Last, when morrow breaks,
Gathered their slain; they bury, as twelve-score soldiers!
Yet Antethrigus, where should cohorts pass,
Lays ambush in a wood. Half-backward, hews
He trees, beside the path; and knits long ropes,
Unto their leafy cops: in other trees,
He archers shrouds. Sith, enter train of soldiers;
That having, all day, under heavy arms,
Gone, in this Summer-heat, much thirst and sweat.
And some, (none enemies seen,) their helms have doffed;
And cast in wains, (that bring their heavy stuff,)
And shields and harness. They, with ribald songs,
Of their rude throats, disordinately march.
Lays ambush in a wood. Half-backward, hews
He trees, beside the path; and knits long ropes,
Unto their leafy cops: in other trees,
He archers shrouds. Sith, enter train of soldiers;
That having, all day, under heavy arms,
Gone, in this Summer-heat, much thirst and sweat.
And some, (none enemies seen,) their helms have doffed;
And cast in wains, (that bring their heavy stuff,)
And shields and harness. They, with ribald songs,
Of their rude throats, disordinately march.
A woodwale shrieked! at that sign, from the gods;
Was dreadful sudden noise, in Roman ears!
Of rushing forest; whose stiff crooked arms,
Whole companies strew, at once, beat-down, oppress!
Tumble green groves, about men's fearful ears;
That felled are, on the mould, whelmed, dasht to death.
Who rest, cry out; This wood's gods fight with Romans!
Titans, which hurl, down on them, leafy towers.
Is death, midst rushing beams, by Britons' shafts.
Was dreadful sudden noise, in Roman ears!
Of rushing forest; whose stiff crooked arms,
Whole companies strew, at once, beat-down, oppress!
93
That felled are, on the mould, whelmed, dasht to death.
Who rest, cry out; This wood's gods fight with Romans!
Titans, which hurl, down on them, leafy towers.
Is death, midst rushing beams, by Britons' shafts.
Faber proclaims, who this relief of soldiers
Leads; that, for every Roman slain, he will
Kill now two Briton captives, in their seeing,
That shoot! But those, lo, their gyved hands upholding,
Do loud protest, they spare not, for the gods!
For them to die, (which have lost all,) were light.
Come lateward Romans forth, with grievous loss.
Leads; that, for every Roman slain, he will
Kill now two Briton captives, in their seeing,
That shoot! But those, lo, their gyved hands upholding,
Do loud protest, they spare not, for the gods!
For them to die, (which have lost all,) were light.
Come lateward Romans forth, with grievous loss.
Heard Antethrigus, that new cohorts marched,
From Aquæ; he cast those bathed and perfumed Romans
Enwrap! He sends some, of his vowéd champions,
(Men, that, with oaken leaves, and whistered words
Of druids, have bound their brows, to Camulus;
To further Britons' war, with their souls' deaths!)
Like fugitive thralls. With well-dissembled tale,
Whilst those hold speech, mongst who, in Ikenild, Street,
With spades and axes, open, pioneers,
Wood-path, before the marching legionaries;
One cometh, their tribune, clad in purple weed.
But falling, in this Roman's mind, suspect;
He his soldiers charged, Attach them! which perceiving,
Britons, pluckt their skeans forth, would there have slain
That Roman duke; and one smote-through his horse.
He fell; but shield him soldiers, with thick spears.
Britons die, having each one slain a Roman!
From Aquæ; he cast those bathed and perfumed Romans
Enwrap! He sends some, of his vowéd champions,
(Men, that, with oaken leaves, and whistered words
Of druids, have bound their brows, to Camulus;
To further Britons' war, with their souls' deaths!)
Like fugitive thralls. With well-dissembled tale,
94
With spades and axes, open, pioneers,
Wood-path, before the marching legionaries;
One cometh, their tribune, clad in purple weed.
But falling, in this Roman's mind, suspect;
He his soldiers charged, Attach them! which perceiving,
Britons, pluckt their skeans forth, would there have slain
That Roman duke; and one smote-through his horse.
He fell; but shield him soldiers, with thick spears.
Britons die, having each one slain a Roman!
Weary, in rain, cast Romans, round them, bank;
Wherein they lie down, fearful, in their harness:
And cry, from man to man, the time of night;
Till morrow break. Thenceforth, those Romans march,
More circumspectly; and when now woodland, large,
Before them, lies; they bind their Belges' guides.
Wherein they lie down, fearful, in their harness:
And cry, from man to man, the time of night;
Till morrow break. Thenceforth, those Romans march,
More circumspectly; and when now woodland, large,
Before them, lies; they bind their Belges' guides.
There, tramelled, find they, passage of all paths,
Soldiers, by shafts of unseen foes, fall pierced.
The tribune sounded clarion then, Knit shields!
So come they, foot by foot, rank behind rank;
None having turned their backs, from forest forth.
Soldiers, by shafts of unseen foes, fall pierced.
The tribune sounded clarion then, Knit shields!
So come they, foot by foot, rank behind rank;
None having turned their backs, from forest forth.
95
Returned king Caradoc, to the Maiden's Hill.
Now night, by watchfires of sweet smelling pine;
Hewed as the poplar leaf, he, king of warriors,
Sits, mongst his long-haired captains; that deposed
Their helms, and arms laid by their valiant hands;
At chequers play, on bulls'-hide long, war-bruised,
Hard shields. But nothing list, in stress of war,
To play heart-weary Britons' sire. On stars,
The hero's eyes be fixt, which men call gods:
And bitter seems that mead-cup Gorran bears.
He cry aloft, of dreary night-fowl, hears;
That flit from carcases unto carcases!
Now night, by watchfires of sweet smelling pine;
Hewed as the poplar leaf, he, king of warriors,
Sits, mongst his long-haired captains; that deposed
Their helms, and arms laid by their valiant hands;
At chequers play, on bulls'-hide long, war-bruised,
Hard shields. But nothing list, in stress of war,
To play heart-weary Britons' sire. On stars,
The hero's eyes be fixt, which men call gods:
And bitter seems that mead-cup Gorran bears.
He cry aloft, of dreary night-fowl, hears;
That flit from carcases unto carcases!
To gods, on height, that in yond heavenly towers,
Dwell, as men ween, in an eternal feast,
Of youth and ease, and light and divine force;
Lifting his eyes, laments king Caradoc,
His sickly estate. He cannot now, as erst,
Fight, from his scythe-wheel, swift-teamed, battlechariot.
Dwell, as men ween, in an eternal feast,
Of youth and ease, and light and divine force;
Lifting his eyes, laments king Caradoc,
His sickly estate. He cannot now, as erst,
Fight, from his scythe-wheel, swift-teamed, battlechariot.
He left alone is, in Cunobelin's house.
His Catuvelaunian royal state is lost;
Is taken Caer Verulam, Camulodunum burned:
And, after war, hath entered pestilence.
He marvels; why, (now harvest-night!) yet, comes not
Thorolf? Will Summer-season soon be past!
His Catuvelaunian royal state is lost;
Is taken Caer Verulam, Camulodunum burned:
And, after war, hath entered pestilence.
He marvels; why, (now harvest-night!) yet, comes not
Thorolf? Will Summer-season soon be past!
96
He hears his lords commune, how Antethrigus
Useth war-stratagems: but the martial son,
It likes not well, of great Cunobelin.
Received have Catuvelaunians, of their sires,
By open valour, smite their enemies.
Useth war-stratagems: but the martial son,
It likes not well, of great Cunobelin.
Received have Catuvelaunians, of their sires,
By open valour, smite their enemies.
Late, the self night, from fever dream, awaked;
Because him token had given his fathers' gods,
By ravens; that must Romans win this strength,
Caratacus roused his warriors to remove.
And, lo, from thence, at dawning ray, descended;
They champaign wide, to new hill-fort, o'erpass;
Whose foot in Yvel stream: and, triple banks
Digged round, that ward will hold Caratacus.
Because him token had given his fathers' gods,
By ravens; that must Romans win this strength,
Caratacus roused his warriors to remove.
And, lo, from thence, at dawning ray, descended;
They champaign wide, to new hill-fort, o'erpass;
Whose foot in Yvel stream: and, triple banks
Digged round, that ward will hold Caratacus.
When hardly is this full-ended, Roman cohorts
Approach, with Aulus. Leaguering, round the mount,
Soldiers, by day and night, labour to turn
Fair Yvel's stream, from the now shut-up Britons:
And when, night-time, those and their beasts, must drink,
Romans shoot, on them, stones, from wain-borne engines;
And thirst, in their own land! war-weary Britons.
Approach, with Aulus. Leaguering, round the mount,
Soldiers, by day and night, labour to turn
Fair Yvel's stream, from the now shut-up Britons:
And when, night-time, those and their beasts, must drink,
Romans shoot, on them, stones, from wain-borne engines;
And thirst, in their own land! war-weary Britons.
But when hath Antethrigus word thereof,
Through spies; he, with his East-men, hastily marched,
From Coit Mawr
forest. They, to succour Caradoc,
Contend. And now, as mountain wolves, by night;
Those come, to hindward of the legions' vallum,
Blowing loud hundred war-horns! clamour raise;
As many bands did, in vast field, arrive.
Whilst soldiers then much doubting, in dark watch,
Standing in ordinance, keep the castrum walls,
Caradoc; whom Antethrigus had forewarned,
Closely, unmarked of Romans, ere that star,
Which, messenger of new day, again, is risen;
Led his blue warriors, from the hinder part.
Through spies; he, with his East-men, hastily marched,
97
Contend. And now, as mountain wolves, by night;
Those come, to hindward of the legions' vallum,
Blowing loud hundred war-horns! clamour raise;
As many bands did, in vast field, arrive.
Whilst soldiers then much doubting, in dark watch,
Standing in ordinance, keep the castrum walls,
Caradoc; whom Antethrigus had forewarned,
Closely, unmarked of Romans, ere that star,
Which, messenger of new day, again, is risen;
Led his blue warriors, from the hinder part.
Romans, sent scouts, at dawn, find Britons' camp,
Empty: but sith, when hears the Roman legate;
How now, to Pedred fen, Caratacus
Was went; leaving the war to end, to Flavius,
On this side Thames; he, duke, with his most horse,
Returns himself, to Roman Troynovant.
Empty: but sith, when hears the Roman legate;
How now, to Pedred fen, Caratacus
Was went; leaving the war to end, to Flavius,
On this side Thames; he, duke, with his most horse,
Returns himself, to Roman Troynovant.
Vespasian, taking certain expedite cohorts;
Then they, from hill to hill, like salvage beast,
Valley to valley, Antethrigus hunt.
But that great Briton, some, to spy out Romans,
Sends, like base herdfolk, clad, in pilches rough;
And bearing slings and hurl-bats their tough hands.
Then they, from hill to hill, like salvage beast,
Valley to valley, Antethrigus hunt.
But that great Briton, some, to spy out Romans,
Sends, like base herdfolk, clad, in pilches rough;
And bearing slings and hurl-bats their tough hands.
These leasings sow, mongst hungry Roman Gauls;
How, from the Summer-pastures, had they driven
Much cattle down, to green plain. Browse their hornbeasts,
Yond, the late herb, within a valley's mouth.
Persuaded of them, many Gauls then ride.
Passed league's way, those hear lowing now of kine,
Whither they come, within a cragged cliff.
98
Much cattle down, to green plain. Browse their hornbeasts,
Yond, the late herb, within a valley's mouth.
Persuaded of them, many Gauls then ride.
Passed league's way, those hear lowing now of kine,
Whither they come, within a cragged cliff.
They throng in; but beyond, in cumbered place,
Of thorns, which haunt sweet birds, and trickling rocks;
The skies did seem rain on them, shafts and darts.
Then would those Gauls, betrayed, fast backward ride;
But kindled foes, against them, have all thicks!
Now, leaping dire, wild flames run on the ground;
Dance dread, uplifted, roaring, on the wind:
Them chace, which way they turn, with open throat.
Of thorns, which haunt sweet birds, and trickling rocks;
The skies did seem rain on them, shafts and darts.
Then would those Gauls, betrayed, fast backward ride;
But kindled foes, against them, have all thicks!
Now, leaping dire, wild flames run on the ground;
Dance dread, uplifted, roaring, on the wind:
Them chace, which way they turn, with open throat.
Who, half-scorched, flying from this fiery death;
Fall on great felled trees, that bar now the path,
With their stiff crooked arms. Pursue fierce Britons,
With fearful yells! and iron and thrilling bronze.
Fall on great felled trees, that bar now the path,
With their stiff crooked arms. Pursue fierce Britons,
With fearful yells! and iron and thrilling bronze.
Five only of Romans win, again, to camp:
Then damned be those few Britons, to the death;
Which, for a pledge of faith, were there left bound:
But they, empaled, did glory, in their bold deed!
Then damned be those few Britons, to the death;
Which, for a pledge of faith, were there left bound:
But they, empaled, did glory, in their bold deed!
| The Dawn in Britain | |