A Metrical History of England Or, Recollections, in Rhyme, Of some of the most prominent Features in our National Chronology, from the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Commencement of the Regency, in 1812. In Two Volumes ... By Thomas Dibdin |
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THE NORMANS.
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 | A Metrical History of England |  |
134
THE NORMANS.
136
“Le Premier qui fut Roi, fut un soldat heureux.”
Voltaire.
Voltaire.
“Arma, Virumque cano.”
Virgil.
Virgil.
“Able, ambitious, generous, arbitrary, cruel.”
Anon.
Anon.
“Julius Cæsar the Roman,
“Who yielded to no man,
“Came by water, he cou'dn't come by land;
“And Dane, Pict, and Saxon,
“Their homes turned their backs on,
“And all for the sake of our island.
“Who yielded to no man,
“Came by water, he cou'dn't come by land;
“And Dane, Pict, and Saxon,
“Their homes turned their backs on,
“And all for the sake of our island.
“Then another great war-man,
“Call'd Billy the Norman,
“Cried, truly I never liked my land;
“And 'twou'd be much more handy,
“To leave this Normandy,
“And live on yon nice little island.”
T. Dibdin's Songs.
“Call'd Billy the Norman,
“Cried, truly I never liked my land;
“And 'twou'd be much more handy,
“To leave this Normandy,
“And live on yon nice little island.”
He loved, understood, and was successful in war.”
Lockman.
Lockman.
WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.
PARODY.
The Curfew tolls the knell of Danish sway,
The British Chiefs their arms reluctant yield,
The soldiers homeward march their weary way,
And leave to William the disputed field!
The British Chiefs their arms reluctant yield,
The soldiers homeward march their weary way,
And leave to William the disputed field!
137
Now fades each gleam of freedom on the sight,
And ev'ry Englishman is doom'd a slave,
Save those who nobly perish'd in the fight,
And sunk unconquer'd to a patriot grave.
And ev'ry Englishman is doom'd a slave,
Save those who nobly perish'd in the fight,
And sunk unconquer'd to a patriot grave.
Save Gurth and Le'fwin to their brother true,
Who shared with Harold that disastrous hour,
Save Morcar, Edwin, and a loyal few,
Who lived to combat oft the victor's power.
Who shared with Harold that disastrous hour,
Save Morcar, Edwin, and a loyal few,
Who lived to combat oft the victor's power.
Beneath those ruin'd walls
that ivy's shade,
Where whitening bones in sad promiscuous heap,
Unseemly to the trav'ler's eye are laid,
The gallant victims of the battle sleep.
Where whitening bones in sad promiscuous heap,
Unseemly to the trav'ler's eye are laid,
The gallant victims of the battle sleep.
The hollow drum at incense-breathing morn,
No more resounding thro' the tented shed,
The warlike clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
No more resounding thro' the tented shed,
The warlike clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
For them no more shall royal Harold show'r
Reward for loyalty and val'rous deed,
No lady fair awaits them in the bower,
To pay with beauty's smile the warrior's meed.
Reward for loyalty and val'rous deed,
No lady fair awaits them in the bower,
To pay with beauty's smile the warrior's meed.
138
Oft did invaders to their prowess yield,
Their biting bills full many a helm have broke,
How loudly rang their anlace on the shield,
How bow'd the foe beneath their sturdy stroke!
Their biting bills full many a helm have broke,
How loudly rang their anlace on the shield,
How bow'd the foe beneath their sturdy stroke!
Let not the modern soldier mock their toil
Who, cased in iron, trod th' ensanguined plain,
Nor light-arm'd cavalry at heroes smile
Whose mail-clad steeds still answer'd to the reign.
Who, cased in iron, trod th' ensanguined plain,
Nor light-arm'd cavalry at heroes smile
Whose mail-clad steeds still answer'd to the reign.
The rich pelisse, the gorgeous epaulette,
The tube destructive, and the sabre brave,
Can only pay the same much honoured debt,
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
The tube destructive, and the sabre brave,
Can only pay the same much honoured debt,
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Nor men of wealth impute to these the blame,
No marble monument, with studied lays,
At Paul's or Peter's consecrates their fame,
While nasal organ'd vergers chaunt their praise.
No marble monument, with studied lays,
At Paul's or Peter's consecrates their fame,
While nasal organ'd vergers chaunt their praise.
Cou'd Praxiteles, were he now alive,
Cou'd famed Pygmalyon, or Promethean lore,
Cou'd Roubilliac's or Bacon's art revive,
The daring chiefs who fell to rise no more?
Cou'd famed Pygmalyon, or Promethean lore,
Cou'd Roubilliac's or Bacon's art revive,
The daring chiefs who fell to rise no more?
139
Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some head, once fraught with diplomatic fire,
Hands that Calcutta's sceptre might have sway'd,
And brought from India many a rich Jaghire.
Some head, once fraught with diplomatic fire,
Hands that Calcutta's sceptre might have sway'd,
And brought from India many a rich Jaghire.
But commerce to their eyes her figur'd page,
Rich with a Nabob's spoil, did ne'er unroll,
No navy seconded advent'rous rage,
To barter wealth “from Indus to the Pole.”
Rich with a Nabob's spoil, did ne'er unroll,
No navy seconded advent'rous rage,
To barter wealth “from Indus to the Pole.”
Full many a mind with force to guide a storm,
Or politics, or trade, must think alone;
Full many a heart of valour's boldest form
Is doom'd to wither in the ranks unknown.
Or politics, or trade, must think alone;
Full many a heart of valour's boldest form
Is doom'd to wither in the ranks unknown.
Some Abercrombie who, with dauntless breast,
Aggressing Gaul had chaced from Egypt's shore;
Some Marlbro', Wolfe, Cornwallis, here may rest,
A Smith, a Stuart, Wellington, or Moore.
Aggressing Gaul had chaced from Egypt's shore;
Some Marlbro', Wolfe, Cornwallis, here may rest,
A Smith, a Stuart, Wellington, or Moore.
The thanks of British Senates to command,
The threats of Gaul's Colossus to despise,
To fight for freedom in Iberia's land,
And raise our fame in Lusitania's eyes.
The threats of Gaul's Colossus to despise,
To fight for freedom in Iberia's land,
And raise our fame in Lusitania's eyes.
140
Their lot forbad, nor circumscribed alone
Their growing virtue's but their crimes confin'd,
Forbade to wade thro' blood to Gallia's throne,
And shut the gates of freedom on mankind.
Their growing virtue's but their crimes confin'd,
Forbade to wade thro' blood to Gallia's throne,
And shut the gates of freedom on mankind.
The struggling pangs of murder'd truth to hide,
To quench the useful ardor of the press,
To heap the shrine of self-created pride
With honours which but make the wearer less.
To quench the useful ardor of the press,
To heap the shrine of self-created pride
With honours which but make the wearer less.
Far from subverting an establish'd throne,
Such modern doctrines were by them denied,
They'd hands and hearts to combat for their own,
And for their sov'reign's rights they fought and died.
Such modern doctrines were by them denied,
They'd hands and hearts to combat for their own,
And for their sov'reign's rights they fought and died.
Yet e'en these bones which grave nor tomb protect,
Nor sculptured arts, with letter'd graces vie,
Oft shall the feeling passer by reflect,
And pay their patriot virtue with a sigh.
Nor sculptured arts, with letter'd graces vie,
Oft shall the feeling passer by reflect,
And pay their patriot virtue with a sigh.
For who to dumb forgetfulness a prey
But thinks on him whose patriotic mind
Can for his country cast his life away,
Tho' mindful of the friends he leaves behind.
But thinks on him whose patriotic mind
Can for his country cast his life away,
Tho' mindful of the friends he leaves behind.
141
Nor name, nor years, sung by the loftiest muse,
Cou'd praise to equal their desert supply,
Who, scorning Norman William, dared refuse
To yield, and for that bold refusal die.
Cou'd praise to equal their desert supply,
Who, scorning Norman William, dared refuse
To yield, and for that bold refusal die.
For William, bane of those most honour'd dead,
Few are the lines that may his tale relate,
A life of warfare in his reign he led,
His sons, and Harold's sons, still cross'd his fate.
Few are the lines that may his tale relate,
A life of warfare in his reign he led,
His sons, and Harold's sons, still cross'd his fate.
And foreign wars he waged, and built the Tow'r,
And caus'd our laws the Norman tongue to speak,
And tax'd poor devils who were in his power,
And help'd the strong to triumph o'er the weak.
And caus'd our laws the Norman tongue to speak,
And tax'd poor devils who were in his power,
And help'd the strong to triumph o'er the weak.
The Exchequer first at Westminster he placed,
Next, to secure of hunting ground a stock,
New forest for his pleasure he laid waste,
And made folks go to bed at eight o'clock.
Next, to secure of hunting ground a stock,
New forest for his pleasure he laid waste,
And made folks go to bed at eight o'clock.
At Mantes, to burn a town it was his will,
His horse took fright, Will pull'd him up in vain,
And, or he died, or was used very ill,
For certainly they buried him at Caen.
His horse took fright, Will pull'd him up in vain,
142
For certainly they buried him at Caen.
There, at due stated periods of the year,
Were requiems and masses sung and said,
And little choristers oft warbled there,
As choristers will do when they are paid.
Were requiems and masses sung and said,
And little choristers oft warbled there,
As choristers will do when they are paid.
Around his tomb they march in sad array,
Where is an Epitaph inscribed most fair,
Whether the following, I dare not say,
Because I own, I never saw it there.
Where is an Epitaph inscribed most fair,
Whether the following, I dare not say,
Because I own, I never saw it there.
143
The EPITAPH.
Here rests his head upon its native earth
A Prince to fame and fortune greatly known,
Of high ambition, tho' of doubtful birth,
Albion he saw, and mark'd her for his own.
A Prince to fame and fortune greatly known,
Of high ambition, tho' of doubtful birth,
Albion he saw, and mark'd her for his own.
Large was his army, numerous his fleet,
Fate did commensurate success send down,
He gave to Harold a severe defeat,
He gain'd from victory, all he wish'd, a crown.
Fate did commensurate success send down,
He gave to Harold a severe defeat,
He gain'd from victory, all he wish'd, a crown.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or on a conqueror's faults too nicely look,
He'll find, when waking from the tomb's repose,
His sentence is inscribed in doomsday-book.
Or on a conqueror's faults too nicely look,
He'll find, when waking from the tomb's repose,
His sentence is inscribed in doomsday-book.
Battel Abbey, in Sussex, where bones are yet to be seen piled up, supposed to be those of the fallen in that memorable fight.
Doomsday-book, is a register now extant, of all landed possessions, introduced among the feudal regulations by the Conqueror.
145
“And that Red King, who, while of old
“Through Boldrewood the chase he led,
“By his loved huntsman's arrow bled.”
Walter Scott.
“Through Boldrewood the chase he led,
“By his loved huntsman's arrow bled.”
Walter Scott.
“Too low for a high praise, and too little for a great praise.”
Shakespeare.
Shakespeare.
“So, so is good, very good, very excellent good, and yet it
is not, it is but so so.”
Shakespeare.
WILLIAM RUFUS.
King William Rufus wore red hair,
Was rather short, and very fat,
His eyes, we're told, were not a pair,
Yet who could blame the King for that?
Was rather short, and very fat,
His eyes, we're told, were not a pair,
Yet who could blame the King for that?
His brother Robert claim'd a right
To reign, which Bishop Odo aided,
But when they were both beat in fight,
One fled, and t'other was degraded.
To reign, which Bishop Odo aided,
But when they were both beat in fight,
One fled, and t'other was degraded.
The holy war, by zealots led,
Began, and much the muse it irks,
That Infidels like Christians bled,
And Christian soldiers fought like Turks.
Began, and much the muse it irks,
That Infidels like Christians bled,
And Christian soldiers fought like Turks.
146
Westminster Hall King William rear'd,
When finish'd swore in princely huff,
The fabrick to his eyes appear'd
Not half-a-quarter large enough.
When finish'd swore in princely huff,
The fabrick to his eyes appear'd
Not half-a-quarter large enough.
The sea, which, as Canute had shown,
Respects nor wealth, nor rank, nor pow'r,
O'erflowed Earl Godwin's land, since known
As Goodwin Quicksands, to this hour.
Respects nor wealth, nor rank, nor pow'r,
O'erflowed Earl Godwin's land, since known
As Goodwin Quicksands, to this hour.
New Forest, which the conqu'ror meant
For sport, was of his son the bane,
There by a shaft, which chance missent,
In prime of life was Rufus slain.
For sport, was of his son the bane,
There by a shaft, which chance missent,
In prime of life was Rufus slain.
Here too, his brother and his nephew fell,
By darts dispatch'd from undiscovered hand,
Which folks around, as fearful judgments tell,
On those, who for the chace despoil'd the poor man's land.
By darts dispatch'd from undiscovered hand,
Which folks around, as fearful judgments tell,
On those, who for the chace despoil'd the poor man's land.
147
Nor much lamented was the Norman King,
Whose people were in most reduced condition;
His Ministers had tax'd each sort of thing,
For there were then no Whigs in opposition.
Whose people were in most reduced condition;
His Ministers had tax'd each sort of thing,
For there were then no Whigs in opposition.
Of his attire the Sov'reign took due heed,
As you shall learn from ancient lines annex'd,
Robert of Glo'ster scripsit what you'll read,
Tho' Camden rather modernized the text.
As you shall learn from ancient lines annex'd,
Robert of Glo'ster scripsit what you'll read,
Tho' Camden rather modernized the text.
The author hopes he has not exceeded the reported character of William's coarseness and vulgarity.—When ten Englishmen had been cleared by the ordeal of fire, for the charge of killing dear, Rufus exclaimed, “Pretty justice above, indeed, to let “ten such scoundrels escape!”
J.P. Andrews.
Yet William exhibited a mixture of firmness and naivete, when a pilot was fearful of embarking with him on an expedition in tempestuous weather; the Monarch asked, “whether he had ever heard of a King being drowned.”
148
Poetry of the Year 1098.
[“His Chamberlain him brought, as he rose on a day]
“His Chamberlain him brought, as he rose on a day,“A morrow for to wear, a pair of hose of say;
“He ask'd what they costen'd? “Three shillings,” he said,
“Fie a dible,” quoth the King, “to say so vile a deed,
“King's to wear so vile a cloths, that costened no more!
“Buy a pair for a marke, or thou shall reu it sore.”
“A worse pair, sure enough, the other him brought,
“And said they costened a marke—Unneath he then bought;
“Aye!—Bel-ami,” quoth the King, “these are well bought;
“In this manner serve me, otherwise serve me not.”
151
“But who shall teach my harp to gain
“A sound of the romantic strain
“Whose Anglo-Norman tones while're
“Cou'd win the royal Henry's ear.
“Famed Beauclere call'd, for that he loved,
“The minstrel, and his lay approved.”
Walter Scott.
“A sound of the romantic strain
“Whose Anglo-Norman tones while're
“Cou'd win the royal Henry's ear.
“Famed Beauclere call'd, for that he loved,
“The minstrel, and his lay approved.”
Walter Scott.
“For learning is better than house or land.”
School Boy's Poetry.
School Boy's Poetry.
“Henry was called ‘Beauclerc,’ from his attention to
learning, he had heard his father say, that ‘Illiterate Kings
were little better than crowned asses,” and determined not
to come under that description.”
Camden.
HENRY BEAUCLERC.
Of Henry's learning, and the wise reform,
He in the royal houshold made,—nay more,
Abolish'd nightly curfew bells that rung
Throughout the land of Albion, and deranged
At early hour the interesting chat
Of lovers just affianc'd—or of friends,
Who, brought to council by the hope of gain
On trade, were speculating hundreds deep;
Or learned clerks, in disquisition grave,
By classic lamps; or poets, poor as we,
Condemn'd to rhyme for ways and means to eat;
Sing, muse historic—Widows too, we learn,
By his command have jointures, and are free
To marry as they list, and marry did,
Merely to shew the loyal reverence
They bore the King's behest.—The laws 'erst made
By the Confessor Edward were restored
By Henry, who, to please the English, wed
With Maud, descendant of the Scottish King,
And Edgar Ath'ling's sister. —At this time
King Henry's Brother Robert claim'd the crown,
And from the Holy Land return'd with troops
His fancied right to aid—subdued, forgiven,
And set at liberty, again he fights
Against his brother; captive ta'en, and sent
To Cardiff, whence, in vain, he tries escape,
And, first deprived of sight, soon finds a grave;
Glo'ster Cathedral holds the Duke's remains,
Encag'd in trellis'd iron. Heart of Oak
Supplies a figure, armed cap-a-pie,
But such as modern warriors would disdain,
And ladies' ridicule on gay parade.
Lewis, of France, invades the Norman lands,
Him Henry meets, and quells th' invading King.
But when returning, mournful is the tale,
Prince William, Beauclerc's son, a splendid train
Of Knights and Nobles, with the Princess Maud,
And many worthies perish'd in the waves!
And when to Normandy the King return'd,
By (not habitual) intemp'rance, he
Met also with his death. He was interred
At Reading Abbey, which his zeal endow'd.
Twice did he wed—his second Queen, the child
Of Godfrey, of Loraine. In time of dearth
(From April till the harvest time,) he fed
Ten thousand of his Norman subjects,—built,
In Oxfordshire, famed Woodstock Palace, which
Still bears the stamp of his munificence.
He in the royal houshold made,—nay more,
Abolish'd nightly curfew bells that rung
Throughout the land of Albion, and deranged
At early hour the interesting chat
Of lovers just affianc'd—or of friends,
Who, brought to council by the hope of gain
On trade, were speculating hundreds deep;
Or learned clerks, in disquisition grave,
By classic lamps; or poets, poor as we,
152
Sing, muse historic—Widows too, we learn,
By his command have jointures, and are free
To marry as they list, and marry did,
Merely to shew the loyal reverence
They bore the King's behest.—The laws 'erst made
By the Confessor Edward were restored
By Henry, who, to please the English, wed
With Maud, descendant of the Scottish King,
And Edgar Ath'ling's sister. —At this time
153
And from the Holy Land return'd with troops
His fancied right to aid—subdued, forgiven,
And set at liberty, again he fights
Against his brother; captive ta'en, and sent
To Cardiff, whence, in vain, he tries escape,
And, first deprived of sight, soon finds a grave;
Glo'ster Cathedral holds the Duke's remains,
Encag'd in trellis'd iron. Heart of Oak
Supplies a figure, armed cap-a-pie,
But such as modern warriors would disdain,
And ladies' ridicule on gay parade.
Lewis, of France, invades the Norman lands,
Him Henry meets, and quells th' invading King.
But when returning, mournful is the tale,
Prince William, Beauclerc's son, a splendid train
Of Knights and Nobles, with the Princess Maud,
And many worthies perish'd in the waves!
And when to Normandy the King return'd,
By (not habitual) intemp'rance, he
Met also with his death. He was interred
At Reading Abbey, which his zeal endow'd.
154
Of Godfrey, of Loraine. In time of dearth
(From April till the harvest time,) he fed
Ten thousand of his Norman subjects,—built,
In Oxfordshire, famed Woodstock Palace, which
Still bears the stamp of his munificence.
Yet will the liberal minded mourn to hear
That, having ta'en in war a hapless bard,
Who in some paltry measures (like to mine,)
Had ridiculed his greatness, his revenge,
(Tho' Sov'reigns for the poet pleaded hard,)
Depriv'd the wretched captive of his eyes,
Whose agony ensuing caus'd his death.
Henry Beauclerc, of all our British Kings,
Shou'd have respected the proud name he bore,
Nor by inordinate and mean revenge,
Have own'd the poet's satyre had its force.
In this King's reign a house of monks first gave
The Dunmow Charter, which entitles those
Who live in wedlock, sans debate, one year
To a fine flitch of bacon—one blest pair
Ask'd and obtained it; and about that time,
Thames water fail'd, the river bed was dry,
Men, women, children, walked across where now
Stands London Bridge—This and the happy two
Who gain'd the Dunmow Flitch, astonish'd much
The gaping vulgar, and we hav'nt heard
That either prodigy occur'd again.
That, having ta'en in war a hapless bard,
Who in some paltry measures (like to mine,)
Had ridiculed his greatness, his revenge,
(Tho' Sov'reigns for the poet pleaded hard,)
Depriv'd the wretched captive of his eyes,
Whose agony ensuing caus'd his death.
Henry Beauclerc, of all our British Kings,
Shou'd have respected the proud name he bore,
Nor by inordinate and mean revenge,
Have own'd the poet's satyre had its force.
155
The Dunmow Charter, which entitles those
Who live in wedlock, sans debate, one year
To a fine flitch of bacon—one blest pair
Ask'd and obtained it; and about that time,
Thames water fail'd, the river bed was dry,
Men, women, children, walked across where now
Stands London Bridge—This and the happy two
Who gain'd the Dunmow Flitch, astonish'd much
The gaping vulgar, and we hav'nt heard
That either prodigy occur'd again.
A Muse, cotemporary with the King
By way of Elegy, thus chose to sing.
By way of Elegy, thus chose to sing.
Queen Maud, or Matilda, was the delight of the English, both on account of her descent and goodness of heart. To her we owe the first stone arched bridges England ever possessed:— she built two at Stratford, in Essex, (thence called De Arcubus, or Le Bow,) where she had nearly been drowned for want of such a convenience. What follows is part of an eulogy on her, preserved by Camden:
Prospera non lætam facere, nec aspera tristem,
Prospera terror ei, aspera risus erant,
Non decor efficit fragilem non sceptra superbam
Sola potens humilis, sola Pudica decens.
Prospera terror ei, aspera risus erant,
Non decor efficit fragilem non sceptra superbam
Sola potens humilis, sola Pudica decens.
Imitated.
By woes her mind was near cast down,Nor by success beguiled,
She met good fortune with a frown,
At fortune's frowns she smiled:
Where shall we find a Queen with this to pair,
Tho' sceptred, humble—chaste, tho' great and fair?
J.P. Andrews.
“No, no,” said the irritated King to a great foreign Prince who interceded for the wretched poet, “for this man being forsooth a Wit, a Bard, and a Minstrel, hath composed many indecent songs against me, and moreover hath sung them openly to the great entertainment of my enemies. Now, since it hath pleased God to deliver him into my hands, he shall be punished to deter others from the like petulance.” So the sentence took place, and the imprudent poet died of the wounds he receiv'd in struggling with the executioner. Ordericus Vitelis.—Vide Andrews.
156
Poetry of the Year 1135.
[King Henry is ded! bewty of the world]
King Henry is ded! bewty of the world,
For whom is grete dole;
The Goddes now maken room for their kind brother,
For he is Sole.
Mercurius in speech, Marce in battayle,
In hest strong Appollo;
Jupiter in hest, egall with Saturn,
And enemie to Cupido;
King he was a right,
And man of most myght,
And glorious in rayninge.
For whom is grete dole;
The Goddes now maken room for their kind brother,
For he is Sole.
Mercurius in speech, Marce in battayle,
In hest strong Appollo;
Jupiter in hest, egall with Saturn,
And enemie to Cupido;
King he was a right,
And man of most myght,
And glorious in rayninge.
And when he left his crowne
Then fell honour down,
For misse of such a King;
Normandy then gan Lowre,
For loss of their flowre,
And sange wel-a-way!
Englond made mone,
And Scotland did grone,
For to see that day!
Then fell honour down,
For misse of such a King;
Normandy then gan Lowre,
For loss of their flowre,
And sange wel-a-way!
Englond made mone,
And Scotland did grone,
For to see that day!
Vide “The Muse's Library.”
159
“King Stephen was a worthy Peer.”
Old Ballads.
Old Ballads.
“A fellow of infinite jest.”
Shakespeare.
Shakespeare.
“Stephen was a man of great facetiousness, and much of
his success is to be imputed to the familiar pleasantry of
his conversation.”
William of Malmsbury.
“Since they have made me their King,” said the gallant
Stephen, “why do they now forsake me? By the birth of
“God I will not be called an abdicated Monarch.”
Ibidem.—Vide J. P. Andrews.
STEPHEN.
Brave to a fault, of humour fair and free,
Yet his possession of Old England's Throne,
Was a faux pas, since reasons strong there be,
To prove the property was not his own.
Yet his possession of Old England's Throne,
Was a faux pas, since reasons strong there be,
To prove the property was not his own.
The daughter of King Henry, Maud by name,
(Matilda, ladies, sounds more sweet, I ween,)
Was heiress—and King Stephen, to his shame,
Had sworn allegiance to her as his Queen.
(Matilda, ladies, sounds more sweet, I ween,)
Was heiress—and King Stephen, to his shame,
Had sworn allegiance to her as his Queen.
160
Not that I blame the Monarch for his oath,
'Twas merely common honesty to take it,
But every gentleman should be right loath
Having an affidavit made to break it.
'Twas merely common honesty to take it,
But every gentleman should be right loath
Having an affidavit made to break it.
Much in this fashion too Matilda thought,
Whose reasons were so back'd with horse and foot,
That tho', while axe and sword were good, he fought,
He lost his liberty and crown to boot.
Whose reasons were so back'd with horse and foot,
That tho', while axe and sword were good, he fought,
He lost his liberty and crown to boot.
But “fortune de la guerre” is quick in change,
Stephen was freed, and Maud forced to be off in
(Conveyance for a living Queen most strange,)
Not coach or chariot, but a screw'd up coffin.
Stephen was freed, and Maud forced to be off in
(Conveyance for a living Queen most strange,)
Not coach or chariot, but a screw'd up coffin.
In strains of Scott we next declare,
How “Scotland's dauntless King and Heir,
“(Although with them they led
“Galwegians, wild as ocean's gale,
“And Lodon's Knights, all sheath'd in mail,
“And the bold men of Teviotdale,)
“Before his standard fled.”
How “Scotland's dauntless King and Heir,
“(Although with them they led
“Galwegians, wild as ocean's gale,
“And Lodon's Knights, all sheath'd in mail,
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“Before his standard fled.”
Next came Plantagenet (Matilda's son),
To make essay for what his mother won;
But England's Monarch kept the youth at bay,
Till Eustace, Stephen's hope and heir,
(Death shews for princes little care,)
Was from the scene of warfare snatch'd away.
To make essay for what his mother won;
But England's Monarch kept the youth at bay,
Till Eustace, Stephen's hope and heir,
(Death shews for princes little care,)
Was from the scene of warfare snatch'd away.
Then, and you wo'nt imagine him unwise,
King Stephen, to conclude the strife,
With his opponent made this compromise,
He was to wear the crown while he had life,
Mean time young Henry swore to keep the peace,
And take the sceptre at the King's decease.
King Stephen, to conclude the strife,
With his opponent made this compromise,
He was to wear the crown while he had life,
Mean time young Henry swore to keep the peace,
And take the sceptre at the King's decease.
Nor did he long survive.—For nineteen years
But little in this reign appears,
Save contests sung of—and that Chiefs had leave,
Often in law's despite,
To build strong castles, and bereave,
By force and arms, the poor man of his right.
The Canon law, cotemporaries say,
First in this reign, to England found its way.
But little in this reign appears,
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Often in law's despite,
To build strong castles, and bereave,
By force and arms, the poor man of his right.
The Canon law, cotemporaries say,
First in this reign, to England found its way.
Stephen's remains at Faversham inurn'd,
Remain'd until, disgrace upon their names,
Reformers, who dug up, pull'd down, and burn'd,
Threw the once valiant Sov'reign in the Thames;
With sacrilegious hands profaned the dead,
For paltry plunder of his coffin'd lead.
Remain'd until, disgrace upon their names,
Reformers, who dug up, pull'd down, and burn'd,
Threw the once valiant Sov'reign in the Thames;
With sacrilegious hands profaned the dead,
For paltry plunder of his coffin'd lead.
Maud, or Matilda, first married the Emperor Henry IV. and afterwards Geoffry Plantagenet, Earl of Anjou, by whom she had King Henry II. of England.
Several historians represent a coffin as the vehicle in which the Empress was reduced to make her escape.
This was attributed by the superstition of the times (when David I. with his son Henry, invaded Northumberland, in 1136,) to the holy banner of St. Cuthbert, under which the English marched, and owed to its efficacy the great victory they obtained in the bloody battle of Northallerton, or Arton Moor. Vide Margerion, Notes to Canto II.
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