University of Virginia Library


84

HUBERT DE BURGH

Make ready my war-ships,” cried Blanche of Castile;
“Make them stanch and well ordered from topmast to keel;
Then over the Channel in haste bid them dance,
Bearing aid to my Louis, fair Louis of France!”
There were eighty good ships, but with forty or less
Brave Hubert de Burgh dared the storm and the stress;
At the mouth of the Thames he encountered them all,
Overcame the proud Frenchmen and held them in thrall.
He sent Louis home with his lilies all torn,
His banners all drooping, his glory all shorn;
And the bold English barons made haste to declare
That Hubert de Burgh royal honors should share.

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But alack and alas! for one dark day there rose
A clashing, a clamor, a tumult of foes,
Crying, “Death to Earl Hubert! With magical art
And unholy spells he hath won the king's heart!”
Straightway to the altar then fled he, and laid
His hand on the cross, as of old on his blade;
But fast his foes followed, like wolves on the track,
When the aisles of the forest with shadows are black!
They stayed not for candle, for book, nor for bell,
For the holy rood's chrism, the crosier's high spell;
From the chancel they dragged him forth into the night,
While the stars veiled their faces and fled from the sight.
With clashing of broadswords above his bare head,
They haled and they harried him, sorely bestead,
Till they reached a brown smithy afar on the green,
Two pendulous, wide-spreading lindens between.
Then they cried to the blacksmith, with jeer and with shout:
“Ho, varlet! from this your grim fortress come out,

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And forge us some fetters both heavy and strong,—
Chain-armor for one who shall wear it full long!”
Forth came the swart yeoman, and bent a low knee,
But not to that wild crew obeisance made he!
He knelt to Earl Hubert and kissed his cold hand,
Then rose and confronted the murderous band.
“If I forge ye one bolt for Earl Hubert, who drave
The French from our land and their ships from the wave,
May my strong arm be palsied, my hand lose its skill.
I have but one life; take it now an ye will!”
They thundered and cursed, but unflinching he stood,
As with courage undaunted he faced the mad brood;
And to every fierce menace one answer he gave:
“I forge ye no fetters for Hubert the brave!”
No chains for brave Hubert! The night wore away.
Birds twittered, mists lifted, the morning grew gray,
Ere, sullenly leaving the smithy's low door,
To the Tower, but unfettered, Earl Hubert they bore.