The Fall of Cambria in Twenty-Four Books by Joseph Cottle. Second Edition |
 | I, II. |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. | BOOK III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
 | The Fall of Cambria in Twenty-Four Books |  |
40
BOOK III.
SCENE, The Palace of Aber, near Snowdon.
In Aber's splendid palace, long renown'd
For princely hospitality, the Chiefs,
Llewellyn at their head, now all appear'd.
The aged Bishop, slow and thoughtfully,
Pass'd up the Hall, his white and flowing locks
Casting an air of majesty that awed
Th' intent beholder, whilst his pensive face
Told of no common mind and, ere he spake,
Disposed all hearts t' approve what he might say.
A seat, beside Llewellyn, now received
The venerable Prelate, whilst around,
Attention and a general silence reign'd.
The Lord of Snowdon, courteous, thus began.
For princely hospitality, the Chiefs,
Llewellyn at their head, now all appear'd.
The aged Bishop, slow and thoughtfully,
Pass'd up the Hall, his white and flowing locks
Casting an air of majesty that awed
Th' intent beholder, whilst his pensive face
Told of no common mind and, ere he spake,
Disposed all hearts t' approve what he might say.
A seat, beside Llewellyn, now received
The venerable Prelate, whilst around,
Attention and a general silence reign'd.
The Lord of Snowdon, courteous, thus began.
41
“Father, revered, we all, with anxious minds,
“Would know thy message, and what drew thee here.
“Speak on!” The Prelate, bending, thus replied.
“Would know thy message, and what drew thee here.
“Speak on!” The Prelate, bending, thus replied.
“My Son! and you my Children, at this hour,
“Hear me with patience! Strife and turbulence,
“And all the venom-breathing words and deeds
“Which war displays, are not my element;
“I love the silent solitary haunts
“Of tranquil meditation, and the hour
“When hearts send forth their heaven-ward orisons,
“Imploring the best gifts on all mankind.
“The Saviour of the World, as well you know,
“Hath bless'd the man whose soul delights in peace,
“And he who makes it. Such would I be found.
“I come, brave Prince, leaving all milder scenes,
“To strive with earnestness, ere war begin,
“To close the breach, and pour the healing balm
“Into the bosom, wounded, and disturb'd
“With wrath and dread resolves. Nor yet too late.
“Hear me my Son! My words are gentleness.
“Let not thy bosom spurn at what I say,
“When I implore, in peaceful brotherhood,
“That thou, with Edward, England's Prince, wouldst dwell.
“I am no sage and subtile reasoner
“On policy and questions of deep state;
“I only long to see the casque and spear,
“Placed harmless by, and peace once more return,
“To bless the land of my nativity.
“In cause, like, this I know that thou wilt make
“Some sacrifice. O Son, restrain thy soul!
“And when thou hear'st advice, adverse, perchance,
“To thy resolves, yet listen, and believe
“It springs alone from love to thee and thine.—
“For what if Edward, England's lofty King,
“Who speaks, and, like the Persian, turns not back,
“What if the Conqueror of Palestine
“Should in his heart have sworn, that he will have
“Even thy subjection, not for private end,
“(Source of the conquests known thro' Christendom)
“Resentment or ambition, but, to form
“England, the pride of isles, into a great
“And towering empire, joining into one
“Its scatter'd elements. Wouldst thou resign,
“For such an object, and to such a mind,
“Whose spirit roams amid futurity,—
“Wouldst thou rehounce thy crown, and second stand
“'Mid England, Edward, only, greater there?
“Magnanimous, O Prince, thy sceptre yield,
“Even for the common good, so hosts unborn
“Shall bless thee, form'd for deeds of virtue high!”
“Hear me with patience! Strife and turbulence,
“And all the venom-breathing words and deeds
“Which war displays, are not my element;
“I love the silent solitary haunts
“Of tranquil meditation, and the hour
“When hearts send forth their heaven-ward orisons,
“Imploring the best gifts on all mankind.
“The Saviour of the World, as well you know,
“Hath bless'd the man whose soul delights in peace,
“And he who makes it. Such would I be found.
“I come, brave Prince, leaving all milder scenes,
“To strive with earnestness, ere war begin,
“To close the breach, and pour the healing balm
“Into the bosom, wounded, and disturb'd
“With wrath and dread resolves. Nor yet too late.
“Hear me my Son! My words are gentleness.
“Let not thy bosom spurn at what I say,
“When I implore, in peaceful brotherhood,
“That thou, with Edward, England's Prince, wouldst dwell.
“I am no sage and subtile reasoner
“On policy and questions of deep state;
“I only long to see the casque and spear,
“Placed harmless by, and peace once more return,
“To bless the land of my nativity.
“In cause, like, this I know that thou wilt make
42
“And when thou hear'st advice, adverse, perchance,
“To thy resolves, yet listen, and believe
“It springs alone from love to thee and thine.—
“For what if Edward, England's lofty King,
“Who speaks, and, like the Persian, turns not back,
“What if the Conqueror of Palestine
“Should in his heart have sworn, that he will have
“Even thy subjection, not for private end,
“(Source of the conquests known thro' Christendom)
“Resentment or ambition, but, to form
“England, the pride of isles, into a great
“And towering empire, joining into one
“Its scatter'd elements. Wouldst thou resign,
“For such an object, and to such a mind,
“Whose spirit roams amid futurity,—
“Wouldst thou rehounce thy crown, and second stand
“'Mid England, Edward, only, greater there?
“Magnanimous, O Prince, thy sceptre yield,
“Even for the common good, so hosts unborn
“Shall bless thee, form'd for deeds of virtue high!”
Llewellyn rose, his cheek with crimson dyed.
Thus he exclaim'd. “Father? I hear thy words,
“And wert thou not in priestly garment clad,
“These hands would shew thee the same way thou cam'st,
“And I would hurl thee forward, answered thus,
“Send thee with scorn, to thy proud potentate.
“Edward indulge the high imperious hope
“Of my subjection!—In that day, may Heaven
“Extinguish my dishonor'd spark of life,
“And whelm my name in deathless infamy!
“Here do I stand the representative
“Of a long line of glorious ancestors,
“In whom all princely excellence and worth
“Beam'd cloudless forth. The brave Cynethean race,
“Who call'd its own, each name to Cambria dear,
“And dear to fame, now centres in myself.
“Till from my veins each drop of noble blood
“Flow refluent, and other heritage
“Infuse its tainted current round my heart,
“Ne'er shall Llewellyn stoop to mortal man!
“Father forgive my warmth. I fear my words,
“Most undesign'd, have been discourteous.
“I reverence thee, I do respect thy name,
“And own thy pure intentions in this suit:
“Yet, at the word thus tempting me to yield
“My all to Edward, like the imprisoned flood,
“My thoughts must force their passage and speak out.
“Now, Father, in the spirit of mild words,
“Let me inquire, what further Edward speaks.”
Thus he exclaim'd. “Father? I hear thy words,
“And wert thou not in priestly garment clad,
“These hands would shew thee the same way thou cam'st,
“And I would hurl thee forward, answered thus,
“Send thee with scorn, to thy proud potentate.
“Edward indulge the high imperious hope
“Of my subjection!—In that day, may Heaven
43
“And whelm my name in deathless infamy!
“Here do I stand the representative
“Of a long line of glorious ancestors,
“In whom all princely excellence and worth
“Beam'd cloudless forth. The brave Cynethean race,
“Who call'd its own, each name to Cambria dear,
“And dear to fame, now centres in myself.
“Till from my veins each drop of noble blood
“Flow refluent, and other heritage
“Infuse its tainted current round my heart,
“Ne'er shall Llewellyn stoop to mortal man!
“Father forgive my warmth. I fear my words,
“Most undesign'd, have been discourteous.
“I reverence thee, I do respect thy name,
“And own thy pure intentions in this suit:
“Yet, at the word thus tempting me to yield
“My all to Edward, like the imprisoned flood,
“My thoughts must force their passage and speak out.
“Now, Father, in the spirit of mild words,
“Let me inquire, what further Edward speaks.”
The Prelate thus replied, “My hairs are grey.
“Hear me but patiently. Of grievous things
“Edward complains—of thy oft slighted words,
“And faithless oaths; that thou hast broken truce,
“And spite of peace, confirm'd and ratified,
“Seized on his castles, ravaged his fair lands,
“And forced him, as he says, by the sword's edge,
“To vindicate his honour and his right.”
“Father!” Llewellyn cried, “this is the point
“On which I stand or fall. Hear me I pray.
“Free am I to confess, that Cambria, now,
“First drew the sword, that I, with open front,
“Warfare declared, and, with what might I had,
“Seized on the lands and castles and strong holds
“That bordered on my kingdom, and sent forth
“Defiance to my own and country's foe.
“The cause which roused the tempest in my heart,
“That urged my hand to seize once more the sword,
“And plunge in discord, thou thyself shalt judge.
“Hear me but patiently. Of grievous things
44
“And faithless oaths; that thou hast broken truce,
“And spite of peace, confirm'd and ratified,
“Seized on his castles, ravaged his fair lands,
“And forced him, as he says, by the sword's edge,
“To vindicate his honour and his right.”
“Father!” Llewellyn cried, “this is the point
“On which I stand or fall. Hear me I pray.
“Free am I to confess, that Cambria, now,
“First drew the sword, that I, with open front,
“Warfare declared, and, with what might I had,
“Seized on the lands and castles and strong holds
“That bordered on my kingdom, and sent forth
“Defiance to my own and country's foe.
“The cause which roused the tempest in my heart,
“That urged my hand to seize once more the sword,
“And plunge in discord, thou thyself shalt judge.
“O Father, not vain thoughts and reasonings
“Should urge a heart, like mine, a lover true
“Of mildness and sweet concord, to forget
“Its steady nature, and in battle join,
“(Taking the sad vicissitudes of war)
“With one, like Edward. Well I know his might,
“Nor should aught earthly but necessity,
“Strong, harsh necessity, force to a deed
“Pregnant with horror and such bitter drops,
“As war, whate'er th' event, thick showers on all.
“Should urge a heart, like mine, a lover true
“Of mildness and sweet concord, to forget
“Its steady nature, and in battle join,
“(Taking the sad vicissitudes of war)
“With one, like Edward. Well I know his might,
“Nor should aught earthly but necessity,
“Strong, harsh necessity, force to a deed
“Pregnant with horror and such bitter drops,
“As war, whate'er th' event, thick showers on all.
“Tho' of this Isle my fathers call'd themselves
“Lords and high Potentates, holding their sway
“With no presumed and false authority;
“Tho' they beheld subjection on all sides,
“And promised, in their plenitude of power,
“That never a foe should breathe on British ground,
“Strange scenes have risen! A distant and false race,
“Invited by the traitor Vortigern,
“From foreign lands came over, and subdued,
“O my forefathers! conquer'd this fair isle,—
“All but brave Cambria! There the Victor stay'd!
“His boasted laurels wither'd on his brow!—
“Vain were it now to hope, by valiant deeds,
“To reinstate our ancient dynasty,
“And drive th' obtruding children of false friends
“Back to their howling sands and savage wastes;
“That were a deed, perhaps, impossible!
“Arthur! thy days were brief! A traitor's sword
“Sent thee, untimely, to the land of shade! —
“I will keep down th' impetuous thoughts that rise!—
“Sanction'd by time, th' aggression long pass'd by,
“Let the proud Saxon hold his stolen prize!
“I covet not! yet, O thou honor'd shade!
“O Brutus! and thou hero-killing chief,
“Arthur! and bold Ambrosius! first of men!
“I swear to hold, what my brave fathers gave,
“Inflexible! my foot, the granite rock,
“Braving the ocean, and on terms alone,
“Just, independent, such as well befits
“Llewellyn, Griffith's son, will I renounce
“My confidence in this well-temper'd sword,
“And Edward call, my brother and my friend.
“Now, Father, we will talk on nearer points.
“Lords and high Potentates, holding their sway
45
“Tho' they beheld subjection on all sides,
“And promised, in their plenitude of power,
“That never a foe should breathe on British ground,
“Strange scenes have risen! A distant and false race,
“Invited by the traitor Vortigern,
“From foreign lands came over, and subdued,
“O my forefathers! conquer'd this fair isle,—
“All but brave Cambria! There the Victor stay'd!
“His boasted laurels wither'd on his brow!—
“Vain were it now to hope, by valiant deeds,
“To reinstate our ancient dynasty,
“And drive th' obtruding children of false friends
“Back to their howling sands and savage wastes;
“That were a deed, perhaps, impossible!
“Arthur! thy days were brief! A traitor's sword
“Sent thee, untimely, to the land of shade! —
“I will keep down th' impetuous thoughts that rise!—
“Sanction'd by time, th' aggression long pass'd by,
“Let the proud Saxon hold his stolen prize!
“I covet not! yet, O thou honor'd shade!
“O Brutus! and thou hero-killing chief,
“Arthur! and bold Ambrosius! first of men!
“I swear to hold, what my brave fathers gave,
46
“Braving the ocean, and on terms alone,
“Just, independent, such as well befits
“Llewellyn, Griffith's son, will I renounce
“My confidence in this well-temper'd sword,
“And Edward call, my brother and my friend.
“Now, Father, we will talk on nearer points.
“I, first declared for war, this do I own.—
“Brace thou thy tender heart with fortitude
“Firm as old Snowdon, whilst Llewellyn tells
“The cause which roused him from his short repose.
“Brace thou thy tender heart with fortitude
“Firm as old Snowdon, whilst Llewellyn tells
“The cause which roused him from his short repose.
“When late, with mutual wish, Edward and I
“Sheath'd the blood-red and man devouring sword,
“Deep oaths were our's, to cease all cause of strife,
“To act the just and honorable part,
“Nor authorise, either to each, the act
“Unfair or hostile. Since that hour, all wrongs,
“With an augmented and o'erwhelming weight,
“Cambria hath borne! When we, full confident,
“On Edward's promises, bade our brave men
“Go till their land, and, to their cottages,
“After the toils of war, once more return,
“The English, heedless of their vows, sent forth,
“On every hand, fierce bands of ruffian men,
“Doing such deeds as faithless Saracens
“Had blush'd to own. Our churches were destroy'd.
“Fair Bassingwerk, convent for holy men,
“Whose aged walls, reverenced thro' centuries wide,
“Had call'd each traveller's blessing as he pass'd,
“Was whelm'd in forked flames, even David's walls,
“Most venerable pile! sacred to him
“Whose matchless virtues, every Cambrian knows,
“And loves, and imitates, even this bequest,
“Left by our pious ancestors, whose aisle,
“Entomb'd our tutelary Saint, our pride,
“This church was rased by the vindictive foe!
“Dyngad too fell: yea hoary Lantredaff
“For sanctity and sabbath-like repose,
“Long known, secure amid the quiet vale,
“Too poor to stop the pilferer on his way,
“These sons of waste, in th' sacrilegious hour,
“Seized on, and, with mad fury, laid it low.
“Still darker words are mine—the pious men,
“There dwelling, perish'd, whilst th' unsparing foe,
“Frantic with ecstasy, look'd on and laugh'd.
“The Fleming Venables, by Edward urged,
“He did the spoil, the being, at whose name,
“Utter'd in whisper, from his nurse's breast,
“The babe will start! and in amaze look round,
“Feeling instinctive pains! without a pang,
“He burnt that lowly convent. Shrieks of death
“Were melody to him. Think, righteous man!
“Such were our griefs! Yea, mothers, and their babes,
“While yet unborn, horrid to think upon!
“By these far worse than Danes, than Infidels,
“Were slaughtered! whilst the infant at the breast
“No mercy found,—the parent and the child,
“Falling alike before the murderer's sword!
“Is pity thine? Ah, hear me yet again!
“Nothing was hallow'd to these ravagers.
“Even the poor hospital, where aged men
“Find out, with pain, short respite from the grave,
“And toil along, bearing, enjoying not
“Life's lengthen'd span, felt the destructive blast!
“In the wide ruin, these poor pensioners
“On stinted bounty, closed their feeble eyes,
“And perish'd, 'mid the foe's loud revelry!
“This Edward knew. I, the Memorial, sent
“Oft and importunate; pleading my cause,
“Haply, with more of zeal than dignity:
“I concord loved, and, like a suppliant, stoop'd
“To ask, what justice taught me to demand.
“No lenient words return'd! No grief redress'd!
“I only learn'd, by grating contumely,
“The effect of my Remonstrance, and endured
“Harsher, and more oppressive and fierce wrongs!
“The voice of injury in these my ears,
“Sounded unceasing. Morn and quiet eve
“Sent forth the widow's groan! the orphan's cry!
“These chiefs and noble men, saw their warm homes,
“Their stately castles spoil'd, and their domains,
“Once fair and flourishing, laid desolate.
“From sea to sea, one universal call
“For vengeance shouted, till, at length, I cried,
“Subjects aggrieved! forbearance is a crime!
“Longer to pause were abject cowardice!
“Since, with our foe remonstrance hath no weight,
“And Justice' voice is tame and virtueless,
“This sword shall vindicate! this arm redress
“Cambria's unnumber'd wrongs! My people rose!
“I led them forth! I conquer'd! and, this hour,
“Await proud Edward, calm and confident.
“Now, Father! what thy heart indites, speak out!”
“Sheath'd the blood-red and man devouring sword,
“Deep oaths were our's, to cease all cause of strife,
“To act the just and honorable part,
“Nor authorise, either to each, the act
“Unfair or hostile. Since that hour, all wrongs,
“With an augmented and o'erwhelming weight,
“Cambria hath borne! When we, full confident,
“On Edward's promises, bade our brave men
“Go till their land, and, to their cottages,
“After the toils of war, once more return,
“The English, heedless of their vows, sent forth,
“On every hand, fierce bands of ruffian men,
“Doing such deeds as faithless Saracens
“Had blush'd to own. Our churches were destroy'd.
“Fair Bassingwerk, convent for holy men,
47
“Had call'd each traveller's blessing as he pass'd,
“Was whelm'd in forked flames, even David's walls,
“Most venerable pile! sacred to him
“Whose matchless virtues, every Cambrian knows,
“And loves, and imitates, even this bequest,
“Left by our pious ancestors, whose aisle,
“Entomb'd our tutelary Saint, our pride,
“This church was rased by the vindictive foe!
“Dyngad too fell: yea hoary Lantredaff
“For sanctity and sabbath-like repose,
“Long known, secure amid the quiet vale,
“Too poor to stop the pilferer on his way,
“These sons of waste, in th' sacrilegious hour,
“Seized on, and, with mad fury, laid it low.
48
“There dwelling, perish'd, whilst th' unsparing foe,
“Frantic with ecstasy, look'd on and laugh'd.
“The Fleming Venables, by Edward urged,
“He did the spoil, the being, at whose name,
“Utter'd in whisper, from his nurse's breast,
“The babe will start! and in amaze look round,
“Feeling instinctive pains! without a pang,
“He burnt that lowly convent. Shrieks of death
“Were melody to him. Think, righteous man!
“Such were our griefs! Yea, mothers, and their babes,
“While yet unborn, horrid to think upon!
“By these far worse than Danes, than Infidels,
“Were slaughtered! whilst the infant at the breast
“No mercy found,—the parent and the child,
“Falling alike before the murderer's sword!
“Is pity thine? Ah, hear me yet again!
“Nothing was hallow'd to these ravagers.
“Even the poor hospital, where aged men
“Find out, with pain, short respite from the grave,
“And toil along, bearing, enjoying not
“Life's lengthen'd span, felt the destructive blast!
“In the wide ruin, these poor pensioners
“On stinted bounty, closed their feeble eyes,
“And perish'd, 'mid the foe's loud revelry!
“This Edward knew. I, the Memorial, sent
“Oft and importunate; pleading my cause,
“Haply, with more of zeal than dignity:
49
“To ask, what justice taught me to demand.
“No lenient words return'd! No grief redress'd!
“I only learn'd, by grating contumely,
“The effect of my Remonstrance, and endured
“Harsher, and more oppressive and fierce wrongs!
“The voice of injury in these my ears,
“Sounded unceasing. Morn and quiet eve
“Sent forth the widow's groan! the orphan's cry!
“These chiefs and noble men, saw their warm homes,
“Their stately castles spoil'd, and their domains,
“Once fair and flourishing, laid desolate.
“From sea to sea, one universal call
“For vengeance shouted, till, at length, I cried,
“Subjects aggrieved! forbearance is a crime!
“Longer to pause were abject cowardice!
“Since, with our foe remonstrance hath no weight,
“And Justice' voice is tame and virtueless,
“This sword shall vindicate! this arm redress
“Cambria's unnumber'd wrongs! My people rose!
50
“Await proud Edward, calm and confident.
“Now, Father! what thy heart indites, speak out!”
The holy Prelate, sighing, thus replied.
“Woful and bitter wrongs, man heaps on man!
“Thou dost complain of Edward, he of thee!
“Who shall decide? I mourn that wisdom's voice,
“So few should hear—that even humanity,
“First born of virtues, should, O wretchedness!
“Carry so brief conviction to the heart.
“Strange thoughts do crowd upon my labouring mind!
“There are arch hypocrites in this our world,
“Who praise philanthrophy and deck her form,
“In pure and amaranthine wreaths sublime;
“Who talk of charity, and love sincere,
“With earnestness so winning, and pour forth
“Such floods of milky kindness from their tongues
“That, at the voice, of times, once more, we dream
“When virtues walked the earth, till, in some hour
“Which calls the secret soul into broad day,
“The mask is rent. We view our idol shape,
“Angelic, to his proper hue transform'd,
“And the bad man stand forth. I little know
“On whom this charge alights, tho' in my heart,
“Suspicions rise and great. Wrongs there have been,
“Haply the mutual wrong. Some guilty head
“Must bear, a portion supereminent,
“A weight, which down to Hell's profoundest gulf,
“Ere long will sink it. This do I affirm,
“Believe it of thy foe. Edward our king
“Bears in his breast, a heart assailable
“To honor's voice, to violated right
“Sent forth, from high or low. Edward declares,
“O noble Prince! that thy vindictive men,
“Dwelling along the March, unceasing spoil
“And ravage with the bitterness of death.
“Canst thou, with arguments, clear up this point?
“Woful and bitter wrongs, man heaps on man!
“Thou dost complain of Edward, he of thee!
“Who shall decide? I mourn that wisdom's voice,
“So few should hear—that even humanity,
“First born of virtues, should, O wretchedness!
“Carry so brief conviction to the heart.
“Strange thoughts do crowd upon my labouring mind!
“There are arch hypocrites in this our world,
“Who praise philanthrophy and deck her form,
“In pure and amaranthine wreaths sublime;
“Who talk of charity, and love sincere,
“With earnestness so winning, and pour forth
“Such floods of milky kindness from their tongues
“That, at the voice, of times, once more, we dream
“When virtues walked the earth, till, in some hour
“Which calls the secret soul into broad day,
“The mask is rent. We view our idol shape,
“Angelic, to his proper hue transform'd,
“And the bad man stand forth. I little know
“On whom this charge alights, tho' in my heart,
“Suspicions rise and great. Wrongs there have been,
“Haply the mutual wrong. Some guilty head
“Must bear, a portion supereminent,
“A weight, which down to Hell's profoundest gulf,
“Ere long will sink it. This do I affirm,
51
“Bears in his breast, a heart assailable
“To honor's voice, to violated right
“Sent forth, from high or low. Edward declares,
“O noble Prince! that thy vindictive men,
“Dwelling along the March, unceasing spoil
“And ravage with the bitterness of death.
“Canst thou, with arguments, clear up this point?
Llewellyn spake, “Holy and reverenced man!
“There is a curse to Cambria in that March,
“And its fierce Lords! There, towering in their pride,
“With fraud and violence, their castles teem,
“And forth they go, e'en in the dead of night,
“Impatient to pursue their ravages,
“Mouthing the sun, so slow in going down.
“For ages, that hath been the secret fount
“Of bitter waters, and e'en now it flows,
“Poisoning the very flowers that harbour near,
“Simon Le Strange, a base free-booting lord,
“There dwells, with Venables, that monster man,
“Whose heart is adamant. There Scrotchill too,
“And Lonsdale, hold their lawless court, and reign,
“Kings of their district, laughing at all right.
“If ever Cambrians do the deed unkind,
“It is that they are stung and hurried on
“To madness, by the inj'ries and deep wrongs
“Of these March Lords. Now Father, let me hear,
“What further, Edward, vaunting, or in sport,
“Talks of Llewellyn.” Thus the Prelate spake.
“There is a curse to Cambria in that March,
“And its fierce Lords! There, towering in their pride,
“With fraud and violence, their castles teem,
“And forth they go, e'en in the dead of night,
“Impatient to pursue their ravages,
“Mouthing the sun, so slow in going down.
“For ages, that hath been the secret fount
“Of bitter waters, and e'en now it flows,
“Poisoning the very flowers that harbour near,
“Simon Le Strange, a base free-booting lord,
“There dwells, with Venables, that monster man,
“Whose heart is adamant. There Scrotchill too,
“And Lonsdale, hold their lawless court, and reign,
“Kings of their district, laughing at all right.
“If ever Cambrians do the deed unkind,
“It is that they are stung and hurried on
“To madness, by the inj'ries and deep wrongs
“Of these March Lords. Now Father, let me hear,
“What further, Edward, vaunting, or in sport,
“Talks of Llewellyn.” Thus the Prelate spake.
52
“Lord of this ancient realm and far renown'd
“Among earth's princes, no designs are mine
“To rouse thy spirit, and, by angry words,
“Call up thy soul's fierce feelings, I would fain
“Speak lenient things, but as I do believe
“That Edward, in his rage, will o'er this land
“Scatter destruction, if thou soothe him not,
“I would implore thee, timely, to concede
“Some slender things, so, haply, thou mayst 'scape,
“And this thy land, the tempest of his rage.
“Deem not the words I speak, harsh or unkind.
“He mourns, (as he declares) when thou wast driven
“To thine extremity and hopelessness
“Hung on thy rear, that he should grant thee peace,
“As late he did. With his accustom'd fire
“And raging resolution, he declares,
“Yea, he commanded me, to bear these words,
“(Which now I do trembling and mournfully)
“Tell him, by mercy urged, I give him space,
“Which unimproved, he like his sires of old,
“In his last hour, shall cry—The furious foe
“Drives us toward ocean, the remorseless wave,
“Urges us back, to death or manacles.”
“Among earth's princes, no designs are mine
“To rouse thy spirit, and, by angry words,
“Call up thy soul's fierce feelings, I would fain
“Speak lenient things, but as I do believe
“That Edward, in his rage, will o'er this land
“Scatter destruction, if thou soothe him not,
“I would implore thee, timely, to concede
“Some slender things, so, haply, thou mayst 'scape,
“And this thy land, the tempest of his rage.
“Deem not the words I speak, harsh or unkind.
“He mourns, (as he declares) when thou wast driven
“To thine extremity and hopelessness
“Hung on thy rear, that he should grant thee peace,
“As late he did. With his accustom'd fire
“And raging resolution, he declares,
“Yea, he commanded me, to bear these words,
“(Which now I do trembling and mournfully)
“Tell him, by mercy urged, I give him space,
“Which unimproved, he like his sires of old,
“In his last hour, shall cry—The furious foe
“Drives us toward ocean, the remorseless wave,
“Urges us back, to death or manacles.”
Llewellyn cried, rage bursting from his eye,
“Were these his words? Imperious man and proud!
“Doth he deplore, that, in an evil hour,
“He granted peace to Cambria, when her Prince,
“(As he believes) driven to extremity
“Stood hopeless! Ill doth Edward, know this heart,
“Thrice, from the land of hills, I beat his sire,
“Old Henry back. When Edward, a young Prince,
“From jousts and tournaments, far o'er the sea,
“Came dancing to the war, discomfited,
“I sent him, too, to tell his piteous tale.
“When late a King become, he scourged our land,
“And, jealous of renown! wasted and spoiled,
“Tracking his path with blood and violence—
“No foe beheld, he fancied that this heart
“Trembled and fled:—I waited patiently
“On Snowdon, where I taught him lesson stern,
“Not soon to be forgotten! Doth he say
“Despondency was ours. How was it shewn,
“When in one day three English Earls lay low,
“And with the rest, De Tanye, first of knights,
“When blood-dyed standards Cambria nobly won,
“While Edward, panic struck, to the first hold,
“Fled eager, saving life, but losing fame.
“Where then was our despondency? Vain speech!
“There were a thousand latent energies
“Ready to rise, that, had not peace return'd,
“Would evermore have link'd in brotherhood,
“Disgrace and Edward.
“Were these his words? Imperious man and proud!
“Doth he deplore, that, in an evil hour,
“He granted peace to Cambria, when her Prince,
“(As he believes) driven to extremity
“Stood hopeless! Ill doth Edward, know this heart,
53
“Old Henry back. When Edward, a young Prince,
“From jousts and tournaments, far o'er the sea,
“Came dancing to the war, discomfited,
“I sent him, too, to tell his piteous tale.
“When late a King become, he scourged our land,
“And, jealous of renown! wasted and spoiled,
“Tracking his path with blood and violence—
“No foe beheld, he fancied that this heart
“Trembled and fled:—I waited patiently
“On Snowdon, where I taught him lesson stern,
“Not soon to be forgotten! Doth he say
“Despondency was ours. How was it shewn,
“When in one day three English Earls lay low,
“And with the rest, De Tanye, first of knights,
“When blood-dyed standards Cambria nobly won,
“While Edward, panic struck, to the first hold,
“Fled eager, saving life, but losing fame.
“Where then was our despondency? Vain speech!
“There were a thousand latent energies
“Ready to rise, that, had not peace return'd,
54
“Disgrace and Edward.
“Father! thy late words
“Have awed, not terrified Llewellyn's heart.
“I feel a calm solemnity pervade
“My inmost spirit. Speech befits me now
“Where passion is not. Now the time is come,
“When courage, clothed in sober garb, must speak.
“Hear me, most pious Father! and, ye Chiefs,
“Dear to your country, mark my serious words.
“O Sire! in thy most righteous earnestness
“To follow and promote, peace, Heaven's best gift,
“Thou urgest me some slender things to yield
“Freely to Edward—Slender things are vain!
“He seeks them not! His most aspiring heart,
“This do I know, well satisfied, will rest,
“With nothing but the ruin of this land—
“An utter conquest! Many a glorious day
“Hath Cambria seen, when her fierce enemies
“Wither'd beneath her potency, once more
“The trial is ordain'd, I bid it hail!—
“‘Urges us back to death or manacles’
“These were his words, and, as he fain believes,
“This our alternative—So let it be!
“O Edward! thou shalt find in Cambria still
“The animating spirit and high soul
“Which Britons, from the infancy of time,
“Have call'd their birth-right. If for life we strive
“Dreadful shall be the clash of freemen's arms.”
“Have awed, not terrified Llewellyn's heart.
“I feel a calm solemnity pervade
“My inmost spirit. Speech befits me now
“Where passion is not. Now the time is come,
“When courage, clothed in sober garb, must speak.
“Hear me, most pious Father! and, ye Chiefs,
“Dear to your country, mark my serious words.
“O Sire! in thy most righteous earnestness
“To follow and promote, peace, Heaven's best gift,
“Thou urgest me some slender things to yield
“Freely to Edward—Slender things are vain!
“He seeks them not! His most aspiring heart,
“This do I know, well satisfied, will rest,
“With nothing but the ruin of this land—
“An utter conquest! Many a glorious day
“Hath Cambria seen, when her fierce enemies
“Wither'd beneath her potency, once more
“The trial is ordain'd, I bid it hail!—
“‘Urges us back to death or manacles’
“These were his words, and, as he fain believes,
“This our alternative—So let it be!
“O Edward! thou shalt find in Cambria still
“The animating spirit and high soul
“Which Britons, from the infancy of time,
“Have call'd their birth-right. If for life we strive
“Dreadful shall be the clash of freemen's arms.”
55
The holy Prelate cried, “Illustrious Prince,
“Talk not of war! O think what thou canst say
“Soothing to Edward. Let thy Herald, me,
“Heal the wide breach: and is there not a charm
“In conqu'ring the proud heart; curbing the rein
“Of head-strong passion; bridling pride, that foe
“To God and man? Spare thou the christian's blood!
“Subdue thyself! so Heaven shall prosper thee.”
“Talk not of war! O think what thou canst say
“Soothing to Edward. Let thy Herald, me,
“Heal the wide breach: and is there not a charm
“In conqu'ring the proud heart; curbing the rein
“Of head-strong passion; bridling pride, that foe
“To God and man? Spare thou the christian's blood!
“Subdue thyself! so Heaven shall prosper thee.”
Llewellyn cried, “One only word is mine,
“Which I, to thee, speak with meek reverence.
“Bear this resolve to Edward.—Snowdon's Lord,
“Llewellyn, with his host of warriors bold,
“Asks justice, and to hold his land in peace.
“If Edward, with an open front, will grant
“These simple articles, he, the true friend,
“Shall find in Cambria, if not—a foe!
“His be the choice! Peace do I covet most,
“Yet fear I not (in this my country's cause,
“Striving for all the heart of man adores)
“War, with his most austere concomitants.
“Now, Father, I have said. Bear this my mind.”
“Which I, to thee, speak with meek reverence.
“Bear this resolve to Edward.—Snowdon's Lord,
“Llewellyn, with his host of warriors bold,
“Asks justice, and to hold his land in peace.
“If Edward, with an open front, will grant
“These simple articles, he, the true friend,
“Shall find in Cambria, if not—a foe!
“His be the choice! Peace do I covet most,
“Yet fear I not (in this my country's cause,
“Striving for all the heart of man adores)
“War, with his most austere concomitants.
“Now, Father, I have said. Bear this my mind.”
Mourning, the holy Prelate answer made.
“Thy words, to Edward, truly I will name.
“Yea, I will do thee justice. I perceive
“Thou art an injured man, and if the time,
“So sought, should come, that I can plead thy cause,
“And, from thee, turn the tide of Edward's ire,
“(Touching his heart, his vulnerable point,)
“Prince, doubt me not. All-righteous Heaven ordain,
“Brave men! that souls like yours may yet unite!
“Farewell!” The Prince replied, “Father, farewell!”
“Thy words, to Edward, truly I will name.
“Yea, I will do thee justice. I perceive
“Thou art an injured man, and if the time,
“So sought, should come, that I can plead thy cause,
“And, from thee, turn the tide of Edward's ire,
56
“Prince, doubt me not. All-righteous Heaven ordain,
“Brave men! that souls like yours may yet unite!
“Farewell!” The Prince replied, “Father, farewell!”
“The Cynethean Family descended from Coel a Northern Prince, who, by his marriage with the Heiress of North Wales, became the Sovereign of that Principality. Helena, the Daughter of this Prince, succeeded to his dominions, and was afterwards married to the Roman Emperor Constantius. The line of Helena becoming extinct, the Principality of North Wales devolved on Cynetha her Nephew, whose brave descendants inherited the throne, down to Llewellyn.”—Roxland.
Arthur had gone into Armorica to assist his nephew, king Howel, when his nephew Mordred, (with whom in his absence he had entrusted the government of Britain) proved a traitor. Returning to his own kingdom, Arthur met Mordred at Camlan, in Cornwall. The traitor was defeated and slain, but Arthur, in the conflict, received a wound, of which he lingered for some time, and at length died. He was interred at Glastonbury Abbey.
The Monastery of Bassingwerk, lying near the Dee, successively passed from the English to the Welsh and the Welsh to the English, as either power preponderated. Bradshaw, in his life of St. Werburg, relates, that, in the year 1119, Richard the First, on his going upon a pilgrimage to the Holy Well of St. Wenefrede, (in Wales) was suddenly attacked by the Welsh, and forced to take shelter in Bassingwerk. “There is a tradition that Richard, in his dilemma, applied to St. Werburg for relief, who miraculously raised certain sands, between Flintshire and Wiral, and thus gave means for his Constable to pass to his assistance, which sands, from that time, are called the Constable's Sands.” —Pennant.
The spirit of sacrilege, must have appeared in a light peculiarly flagitious to Llewellyn and his subjects, for “Welshmen, above all other nations, were accustomed to reverence Churches, and to attribute much honour unto Ecclesiastical persons. They used not to touch the most deadlyest Foes they had, if they escaped unto the Church.” H Lhuyd's Breviary of Britayne.
“The year ensuing, all the Lords of Wales came to Prince Llewellyn, and made their complaints to him with weeping eyes, how cruelly they were handled by Prince Edward and others; their lands being taken from them by force, and if at any time they did offend, they were punished with extremity, but where they were wronged they found no remedy; therefore they protested before God and him, that they would rather die in the field in defence of their right, than to be made slaves to strangers: whereupon the Prince pitying his estate and theirs, determined with them utterly to refuse the rule of the Englishmen, and rather to die in liberty than to live in thraldom, shame and opprobrium.”—Powell.
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