 | The life of Robert Bruce |  |
55
BOOK II.
The South'ron Trumpets sound the dread Alarm,
The War rekindles, and the Legions arm.
The younger Bruce is call'd from Gallia's Shore,
For now the hapless Father was no more.
In Warlike Pomp array'd, the crowded Host
Moves, sable, onward to the Scottish Coast.
As Cranes, embody'd, shade th'Ætherial Plains,
Stretch'd on the Wing, to shun impending Rains;
The airy Host on sounding Pinions flies,
(A living Cloud) along the darken'd Skies;
So, wrapt in Dust, the South'ron shape their Way,
Obscure the Sun, and intercept the Day.
Great in the Van the mighty Monarch shone,
And by his Side in Armour blaz'd the Son.
Next, mournful Bruce, before th'embattel'd Crowd,
Full of his Sire, in silent Grandeur rode.
Thick swarm the hostile Bands on Scotia's Shore,
And Sword and Fire her poor Remains devour.
To Hills and Dales her trembling Sons retreat,
Their Homes abandon, to avoid their Fate.
Mothers and Infants share the common Woe,
And feebly flying, fall before the Foe.
From Solway's Stream, to Caithness' stormy Strand,
One dismal Waste of Ruin sweeps the Land.
As when some Torrent swell'd with Wintry Rains,
Rolls from the Mountains, and o'erspreads the Plains;
The Swains and Flocks o'erwhelm'd confus'dly roar,
And Woods and Harvests float along the Shore.
The War rekindles, and the Legions arm.
The younger Bruce is call'd from Gallia's Shore,
For now the hapless Father was no more.
In Warlike Pomp array'd, the crowded Host
Moves, sable, onward to the Scottish Coast.
As Cranes, embody'd, shade th'Ætherial Plains,
Stretch'd on the Wing, to shun impending Rains;
The airy Host on sounding Pinions flies,
(A living Cloud) along the darken'd Skies;
So, wrapt in Dust, the South'ron shape their Way,
Obscure the Sun, and intercept the Day.
Great in the Van the mighty Monarch shone,
And by his Side in Armour blaz'd the Son.
56
Full of his Sire, in silent Grandeur rode.
Thick swarm the hostile Bands on Scotia's Shore,
And Sword and Fire her poor Remains devour.
To Hills and Dales her trembling Sons retreat,
Their Homes abandon, to avoid their Fate.
Mothers and Infants share the common Woe,
And feebly flying, fall before the Foe.
From Solway's Stream, to Caithness' stormy Strand,
One dismal Waste of Ruin sweeps the Land.
As when some Torrent swell'd with Wintry Rains,
Rolls from the Mountains, and o'erspreads the Plains;
The Swains and Flocks o'erwhelm'd confus'dly roar,
And Woods and Harvests float along the Shore.
Now fraught with Spoils from far Pomona's
Coast,
To Perth returns the Trinobantian Host .
From thence to Scoon the Victor takes his Way,
The sacred Seat of Scotia's ancient Sway;
Where twice ten Centuries her Monarchs sat,
On fated Marble, venerably great.
Imperial Scoon! how is thy Pomp defac'd?
Thy Archives riffled, and thy Glories raz'd!
Thy sacred Monuments (the Prize of War,)
And Spoils of Ages grace th'Usurper's Car!
The Deeds and Records of great Fergus' Line,
The fatal Stone torn from its hallowed Shrine;
The learned, and their Works, in Triumph born,
Augusta's Cells, and Libraries adorn.
This Cuming saw, and spite of jealous Hate,
Mourns the wide Ruin of the wasted State:
Touch'd with the woful Scene, the Bruce addrest,
And thus, with Tears, unfolds his lab'ring Breast.
To Perth returns the Trinobantian Host .
57
The sacred Seat of Scotia's ancient Sway;
Where twice ten Centuries her Monarchs sat,
On fated Marble, venerably great.
Imperial Scoon! how is thy Pomp defac'd?
Thy Archives riffled, and thy Glories raz'd!
Thy sacred Monuments (the Prize of War,)
And Spoils of Ages grace th'Usurper's Car!
The Deeds and Records of great Fergus' Line,
The fatal Stone torn from its hallowed Shrine;
The learned, and their Works, in Triumph born,
Augusta's Cells, and Libraries adorn.
This Cuming saw, and spite of jealous Hate,
Mourns the wide Ruin of the wasted State:
Touch'd with the woful Scene, the Bruce addrest,
And thus, with Tears, unfolds his lab'ring Breast.
Ah
Huntington! how long shall Rival Hate
Divide our Int'rests, and improve our Fate?
Thou seest our Country, by her Foes opprest,
One Heap of Ruin, one abandon'd Waste!
Her Laws and Rights and Liberties forlorn,
By foreign Force, but more by Faction torn.
Since you and I an equal Right pretend,
Let both our Claims in mutual Friendship end;
Shou'd you to me convey your Right, then I
To you make o'er my Lands and Property.
Or, if to you my Title I resign,
Then your paternal Heritage be mine.
The Bruce accepts the last; And thus agreed,
They sign, and seal, and interchange the Deed.
Meantime his Rout again great Edward bends
Back to Augusta, and the Bruce attends.
Wrapt in his Hopes, impatient for the Day
T'assert his Right, and vindicate his Sway.
Divide our Int'rests, and improve our Fate?
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One Heap of Ruin, one abandon'd Waste!
Her Laws and Rights and Liberties forlorn,
By foreign Force, but more by Faction torn.
Since you and I an equal Right pretend,
Let both our Claims in mutual Friendship end;
Shou'd you to me convey your Right, then I
To you make o'er my Lands and Property.
Or, if to you my Title I resign,
Then your paternal Heritage be mine.
The Bruce accepts the last; And thus agreed,
They sign, and seal, and interchange the Deed.
Meantime his Rout again great Edward bends
Back to Augusta, and the Bruce attends.
Wrapt in his Hopes, impatient for the Day
T'assert his Right, and vindicate his Sway.
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But now, fell Ate
, Source of human Woes,
Dismal from Depths of Tartarus arose.
Fir'd at th'Agreement, the black Fury fled,
And, direful, hovers round the Cuming's Head.
The sooty Spectre shed a noxious Steam,
And her red Eye-balls flash'd a hellish Gleam.
In visionary Scenes he hears her howl,
And feels th'ambitious Venom in his Soul.
Full of the Dæmon, starting from his Bed,
Disclaims his Oath, and the Agreement made;
To Edward sends the Writing seal'd and sign'd,
And shows, malicious, what the Bruce design'd.
Edward in Council reads the hated Scroll,
And sudden Vengeance kindles in his Soul.
Straightway the noble Bruce is doom'd to bleed,
But Fate forbad, and Heav'n oppos'd the Deed.
Bright Ariel, anxious for his sacred Care,
Shoots downward in a Veil of thicken'd Air.
Mix'd with th'Assembly unperceiv'd he sat,
Directs their Thoughts, and guides the Brussian Fate.
In secret Whispers Heav'n's Behests conveys,
Breathes in each Heart, and all the Council sways.
The sacred Motion touch'd sly Pembroke's Breast,
The Peer arose, and thus the King addrest.
Sov'reign!—Not Huntington alone must bleed,
His Kindred also must atone the Deed.
Till these are seiz'd, the Punishment decline,
Then wreck your Wrath on all the Brussian Line.
His Brethren, Allies, and his Friends must fall,
And one dire Ruin overwhelm them all.
'Tis thus you are secure. The Peers assent,
And Edward, sullen, owns the Sentiment;
Nor knows the fix'd Eternal Voice of Fate
Had doom'd him safe, and spoke the Hero great;
For him immortal Honours had decreed,
And endless Glories shed around his Head:
Bid him thro' Dangers struggle to Renown
And rise the Theme of Ages not his own.
Dismal from Depths of Tartarus arose.
Fir'd at th'Agreement, the black Fury fled,
And, direful, hovers round the Cuming's Head.
The sooty Spectre shed a noxious Steam,
And her red Eye-balls flash'd a hellish Gleam.
In visionary Scenes he hears her howl,
And feels th'ambitious Venom in his Soul.
Full of the Dæmon, starting from his Bed,
Disclaims his Oath, and the Agreement made;
To Edward sends the Writing seal'd and sign'd,
And shows, malicious, what the Bruce design'd.
Edward in Council reads the hated Scroll,
And sudden Vengeance kindles in his Soul.
Straightway the noble Bruce is doom'd to bleed,
But Fate forbad, and Heav'n oppos'd the Deed.
60
Shoots downward in a Veil of thicken'd Air.
Mix'd with th'Assembly unperceiv'd he sat,
Directs their Thoughts, and guides the Brussian Fate.
In secret Whispers Heav'n's Behests conveys,
Breathes in each Heart, and all the Council sways.
The sacred Motion touch'd sly Pembroke's Breast,
The Peer arose, and thus the King addrest.
Sov'reign!—Not Huntington alone must bleed,
His Kindred also must atone the Deed.
Till these are seiz'd, the Punishment decline,
Then wreck your Wrath on all the Brussian Line.
His Brethren, Allies, and his Friends must fall,
And one dire Ruin overwhelm them all.
'Tis thus you are secure. The Peers assent,
And Edward, sullen, owns the Sentiment;
Nor knows the fix'd Eternal Voice of Fate
Had doom'd him safe, and spoke the Hero great;
61
And endless Glories shed around his Head:
Bid him thro' Dangers struggle to Renown
And rise the Theme of Ages not his own.
'Twas Night; and now the great Assembly rose,
Each Peer retiring to his late Repose.
Not so bright Ariel his dear Charge dismist,
But, watchful, hovers o'er Montgom'ry's Breast.
With Tenderness to Bruce his Heart he fires,
And to prevent his Doom, his Thoughts inspires:
Bids the soft Motion in his Bosom roll,
And breathes the Friend, in Whispers, to his Soul.
Full of the Visions of the Night, by Fear
And Love awak'd, up rose the friendly Peer.
A faithful Servant soon his Lord attends,
Whom fraught with Presents to the Bruce he sends.
No Charge in Words the trusty Menial bore,
But in his Hand a Purse of shining Ore.
Two glitt'ring Spurs of Silver polish'd bright,
The certain Emblems of a speedy Flight.
The Charge deliver'd, and the Man dismist,
Bruce rolls the mystic Message in his Breast.
By Heav'n instructed, soon the Meaning clears,
Calls his Attendants, and for Flight prepares.
Each Peer retiring to his late Repose.
Not so bright Ariel his dear Charge dismist,
But, watchful, hovers o'er Montgom'ry's Breast.
With Tenderness to Bruce his Heart he fires,
And to prevent his Doom, his Thoughts inspires:
Bids the soft Motion in his Bosom roll,
And breathes the Friend, in Whispers, to his Soul.
Full of the Visions of the Night, by Fear
And Love awak'd, up rose the friendly Peer.
A faithful Servant soon his Lord attends,
Whom fraught with Presents to the Bruce he sends.
No Charge in Words the trusty Menial bore,
But in his Hand a Purse of shining Ore.
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The certain Emblems of a speedy Flight.
The Charge deliver'd, and the Man dismist,
Bruce rolls the mystic Message in his Breast.
By Heav'n instructed, soon the Meaning clears,
Calls his Attendants, and for Flight prepares.
'Twas when bleak Boreas' sullen Gusts arise,
And bear the fleecy Winter thro' the Skies;
When bellying Clouds descend in spreading Snow,
And form a shining Wilderness below.
By Night the Prince, two Servants in his Train,
On Horse-back mounting, scours the trackless Plain.
But lest the Foe should trace his sudden Flight,
Along th'Impression on the snowy White,
By secret Hands his Coursers backward shod,
Elude the Search, and falsify the Road
Thro' dreary Shades of Night, and Tracks of Snow,
Where Winds and Storms in struggling Tempests blow;
Where Hills and Dales, the Forest and the Field,
One tiresome undistinguish'd Prospect yield;
Where roaring Torrents roll their wat'ry Sway,
The noble Bruce pursues his restless Way,
Till past the Dangers of the hostile Plain,
And the bleak Horrors of the Wintry Reign,
Lochmaben's Gates a safe Retreat afford,
Unfold obsequious, and receive their Lord.
By two Attendants led, the royal Guest
His great Ancestors ancient Pavement prest:
There found his Brother, and Kilpatrick wight,
Fleming and Lindsay, and the Reaver-Knight.
His Eyes, with Wonder and Confusion mix'd,
On the brave Stranger Royal Edward fix'd.
He gaz'd astonish'd! then his Brother knew,
And, wing'd with Joy, to his Embraces flew.
Each Chief salutes his Sov'reign in his Turn,
And all their Hearts with mutual Transports burn.
The Menials next with Victuals load the Board,
And Chiefs attending entertain their Lord.
His Hunger soon allay'd, the Royal Guest
(As Men of War are us'd with short Repast)
Begun his late Adventures to relate,
And runs the Series of his former Fate;
Till, Sleep approaching, all the Chiefs arose
To guard their Sov'reign to his soft Repose.
And bear the fleecy Winter thro' the Skies;
When bellying Clouds descend in spreading Snow,
And form a shining Wilderness below.
By Night the Prince, two Servants in his Train,
On Horse-back mounting, scours the trackless Plain.
But lest the Foe should trace his sudden Flight,
Along th'Impression on the snowy White,
By secret Hands his Coursers backward shod,
Elude the Search, and falsify the Road
Thro' dreary Shades of Night, and Tracks of Snow,
Where Winds and Storms in struggling Tempests blow;
63
One tiresome undistinguish'd Prospect yield;
Where roaring Torrents roll their wat'ry Sway,
The noble Bruce pursues his restless Way,
Till past the Dangers of the hostile Plain,
And the bleak Horrors of the Wintry Reign,
Lochmaben's Gates a safe Retreat afford,
Unfold obsequious, and receive their Lord.
By two Attendants led, the royal Guest
His great Ancestors ancient Pavement prest:
There found his Brother, and Kilpatrick wight,
Fleming and Lindsay, and the Reaver-Knight.
His Eyes, with Wonder and Confusion mix'd,
On the brave Stranger Royal Edward fix'd.
He gaz'd astonish'd! then his Brother knew,
And, wing'd with Joy, to his Embraces flew.
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And all their Hearts with mutual Transports burn.
The Menials next with Victuals load the Board,
And Chiefs attending entertain their Lord.
His Hunger soon allay'd, the Royal Guest
(As Men of War are us'd with short Repast)
Begun his late Adventures to relate,
And runs the Series of his former Fate;
Till, Sleep approaching, all the Chiefs arose
To guard their Sov'reign to his soft Repose.
Now ope's the wintry Dawn, and Cynthia's Ray
Shoots a dim Twilight thro' the lowring Day,
When loyal Friends in Bonds a Courier bring,
Fraught with Dispatches to the South'ron King,
By Cuming sent. The hardy Edward rose,
And to the King's Apartment softly goes.
He found the Monarch starting from his Bed,
And to his Presence soon the Captive led.
The Man at once produced the trait'rous Writ:
The Monarch read, and shudder'd at the Sight.
He views, and wonders at the black Design,
His Eyes, indignant, rolling o'er each Line.
The Purport bore—To haste the Bruce's Fate,
For Kings shou'd dread the Pop'lar and the Great.
Fir'd with Revenge, his Courser quick he calls,
And, furious, leaves Lochmaben's ancient Walls.
His Friends, all ready now, their Steeds bestrode,
And swiftly follow thro' the marshy Road.
Straight to Dumfries advances all the Train,
And find the Cuming in the sacred Fane.
Rage and swift Vengeance rolling in his Breast,
Bruce furious enter'd, and the Man addrest,
Villain! (meantime he shows the trait'rous Scroll)
Read this, and learn to hate thy perjur'd Soul.
Nor more—but pull'd a Poniard from its Sheath,
And in his Heart deep drove the shining Death.
Lord Cuming falls, a Tide of Crimson Gore
Bursts from the Wound, and stains the hallow'd Floor.
His Cousin Edward, hasting to his Aid,
Prone at his Side by Lindsay's Hand is laid.
This done, the Bruce attended by his Train,
Swift to Lochmaben measures back the Plain.
Thence round his royal Manifesto sends,
To warn his Subjects, and invite his Friends.
High rais'd, in Gold the glitt'ring Lions glare,
And round the Standard crowds the loyal War.
The King appears, his noble Mein imparts
Love to their Souls, and Courage to their Hearts.
They view their Prince, in Arms a glorious Name!
And ev'ry Breast beats high with future Fame.
The Monarch, mounting, foremost trac'd the Plain,
Glitter the loyal Squadrons in his Train.
Straight to Imperial Scoon they bend their Way,
The sacred Seat of Fergus' ancient Sway.
When, o'er the Lawns, as Bruce directs his Sight,
A Warlike Courser bore a sable Knight.
His clouded Mail a dusky Horror shed,
A bloody Plume blaz'd nodding o'er his Head.
As from some nightly Cloud's impregnate Womb,
The sudden Lightning glares along the Gloom;
High on his Helm so wav'd the blazy Stream,
And o'er his Armour cast a doubtful Gleam.
In his strong Hand a Lance he rais'd on high,
And a broad Fauchion glitter'd at his Thigh.
Soon as the Bruce the Warlike Knight beheld,
Foremost, he speeds his Courser o'er the Field;
His beamy Spear advancing in his Rest,
Aloud he calls, and thus the Man addrest.
‘Whoe'er thou art in Arms that tread'st the Plain,
‘Disclose thy Purpose, thy Designs explain;
‘Whether a Stranger from some foreign Soil,
‘Thou com'st to view old Caledonia's Toil;
‘By Heav'n directed from a distant Shore,
‘To joyn her loyal Sons, and aid her righteous War:
‘Or if thou com'st her Freedom to oppose,
‘Obstruct our Right, and to assist our Foes;
‘Who e'er thou art, obscure, or known to Fame,
‘Show thine Intentions, and unfold thy Name.’
Shoots a dim Twilight thro' the lowring Day,
When loyal Friends in Bonds a Courier bring,
Fraught with Dispatches to the South'ron King,
By Cuming sent. The hardy Edward rose,
And to the King's Apartment softly goes.
He found the Monarch starting from his Bed,
And to his Presence soon the Captive led.
65
The Monarch read, and shudder'd at the Sight.
He views, and wonders at the black Design,
His Eyes, indignant, rolling o'er each Line.
The Purport bore—To haste the Bruce's Fate,
For Kings shou'd dread the Pop'lar and the Great.
Fir'd with Revenge, his Courser quick he calls,
And, furious, leaves Lochmaben's ancient Walls.
His Friends, all ready now, their Steeds bestrode,
And swiftly follow thro' the marshy Road.
Straight to Dumfries advances all the Train,
And find the Cuming in the sacred Fane.
Rage and swift Vengeance rolling in his Breast,
Bruce furious enter'd, and the Man addrest,
Villain! (meantime he shows the trait'rous Scroll)
Read this, and learn to hate thy perjur'd Soul.
Nor more—but pull'd a Poniard from its Sheath,
And in his Heart deep drove the shining Death.
66
Bursts from the Wound, and stains the hallow'd Floor.
His Cousin Edward, hasting to his Aid,
Prone at his Side by Lindsay's Hand is laid.
This done, the Bruce attended by his Train,
Swift to Lochmaben measures back the Plain.
Thence round his royal Manifesto sends,
To warn his Subjects, and invite his Friends.
High rais'd, in Gold the glitt'ring Lions glare,
And round the Standard crowds the loyal War.
The King appears, his noble Mein imparts
Love to their Souls, and Courage to their Hearts.
They view their Prince, in Arms a glorious Name!
And ev'ry Breast beats high with future Fame.
The Monarch, mounting, foremost trac'd the Plain,
Glitter the loyal Squadrons in his Train.
Straight to Imperial Scoon they bend their Way,
The sacred Seat of Fergus' ancient Sway.
67
A Warlike Courser bore a sable Knight.
His clouded Mail a dusky Horror shed,
A bloody Plume blaz'd nodding o'er his Head.
As from some nightly Cloud's impregnate Womb,
The sudden Lightning glares along the Gloom;
High on his Helm so wav'd the blazy Stream,
And o'er his Armour cast a doubtful Gleam.
In his strong Hand a Lance he rais'd on high,
And a broad Fauchion glitter'd at his Thigh.
Soon as the Bruce the Warlike Knight beheld,
Foremost, he speeds his Courser o'er the Field;
His beamy Spear advancing in his Rest,
Aloud he calls, and thus the Man addrest.
‘Whoe'er thou art in Arms that tread'st the Plain,
‘Disclose thy Purpose, thy Designs explain;
‘Whether a Stranger from some foreign Soil,
‘Thou com'st to view old Caledonia's Toil;
68
‘To joyn her loyal Sons, and aid her righteous War:
‘Or if thou com'st her Freedom to oppose,
‘Obstruct our Right, and to assist our Foes;
‘Who e'er thou art, obscure, or known to Fame,
‘Show thine Intentions, and unfold thy Name.’
Thus spoke the King, and now the Warriour Band
Approaching, round the gallant Stranger stand.
The courteous Knight a low Obeisance made,
And thus to Royal Bruce, submissive, said;
Approaching, round the gallant Stranger stand.
The courteous Knight a low Obeisance made,
And thus to Royal Bruce, submissive, said;
‘From foreign Climes, and distant Tracts of Earth,
‘I sought the Soil where Nature gave me Birth;
‘Long since inform'd of my dear Country's Woes,
‘By homebred Faction torn, and foreign Foes;
‘Arriv'd, with Tears I view'd her wasted Shore,
‘Horrid with Slaughter, and deform'd with Gore.
‘One Face of Ruin, direful, spread each Plain,
‘Her Towns in Ashes, and her Heroes slain.
‘I found my much lov'd Sire a Captive led,
‘In Fetters pin'd, and in a Dungeon dead;
‘My self bereft of all his wide Domains,
‘Where, now, the haughty Clifford proudly reigns.
‘Mine Eme addrest th'Usurper to regain
‘My Right paternal, but addrest in vain.
‘The Suit preferr'd, the Tyrant rose in Ire,
‘And proudly check'd the venerable Sire.
‘Rejected with Disdain, and dispossest,
‘What Grief and Rage, indignant, tore my Breast?
‘Full of my Country's Wrongs, mine own Disgrace,
‘I vow'd Revenge on all the South'ron Race.
‘Just as the Motion in my Bosom roll'd,
‘A loyal Friend in joyful Whispers told,
‘The noble Bruce, escap'd, pursu'd his Way,
‘T'assert his Title to the Scottish Sway.
‘Rouz'd with the Thought, I arm, and soon prepare
‘To joyn my Prince, and aid the loyal War.
‘If thou'rt that Bruce, and those thy martial Bands,
‘A faithful Subject waits thy just Commands.
‘A Stranger I, a Youth unknown to Fame,
‘But loyal Douglas was my Father's Name.
‘I sought the Soil where Nature gave me Birth;
‘Long since inform'd of my dear Country's Woes,
‘By homebred Faction torn, and foreign Foes;
‘Arriv'd, with Tears I view'd her wasted Shore,
‘Horrid with Slaughter, and deform'd with Gore.
‘One Face of Ruin, direful, spread each Plain,
‘Her Towns in Ashes, and her Heroes slain.
69
‘In Fetters pin'd, and in a Dungeon dead;
‘My self bereft of all his wide Domains,
‘Where, now, the haughty Clifford proudly reigns.
‘Mine Eme addrest th'Usurper to regain
‘My Right paternal, but addrest in vain.
‘The Suit preferr'd, the Tyrant rose in Ire,
‘And proudly check'd the venerable Sire.
‘Rejected with Disdain, and dispossest,
‘What Grief and Rage, indignant, tore my Breast?
‘Full of my Country's Wrongs, mine own Disgrace,
‘I vow'd Revenge on all the South'ron Race.
‘Just as the Motion in my Bosom roll'd,
‘A loyal Friend in joyful Whispers told,
‘The noble Bruce, escap'd, pursu'd his Way,
‘T'assert his Title to the Scottish Sway.
‘Rouz'd with the Thought, I arm, and soon prepare
‘To joyn my Prince, and aid the loyal War.
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‘A faithful Subject waits thy just Commands.
‘A Stranger I, a Youth unknown to Fame,
‘But loyal Douglas was my Father's Name.
The Bruce, well knowing what the Sire had done,
Flew to th'Embraces of the gallant Son.
Close in his Arms the Godlike Man he prest,
And all the Train salute the noble Guest.
Thence to Imperial Scoon they bend their Way,
The far fam'd Seat of Albion's ancient Sway.
Arriv'd, they enter; Guards surrounding wait,
Whilst Bruce is seated on a Throne of State.
Then from the Altar of the hallow'd Fane,
The sacred Officers the Rites began.
The Regal Oyl, first, plac'd by pious Hands,
In holy Vases on the Altar stands.
The tuneful Choir their solemn Voices raise,
And Heav'n resounds the consecrated Lays.
The Royal Fragrance on his Head they pour,
In od'rous Drops descends the hallow'd Show'r.
Of Gold and Jewels next the Imperial Crown,
(A daz'ling Radiance!) round his Temples shone.
Mean while, the Chiefs, and the attending Train,
Intently gazing on the awful Scene,
With Wonder saw a Flame, innoxious, spread
Its lambent Glories round the Monarch's Head;
Amaz'd, beheld unusual Splendors rise!
Play o'er his Face, and sparkle in his Eyes.
Again the Choir their Notes in Consort joyn,
Warbles the Heav'nly Anthem thro' the Shrine.
The Crowd in Peals of loud Applauses rise,
And catch'd, from Vault to Vault, the ecchoing Noise
Rolls thro' the Dome, and rattles in the Skies.
Flew to th'Embraces of the gallant Son.
Close in his Arms the Godlike Man he prest,
And all the Train salute the noble Guest.
Thence to Imperial Scoon they bend their Way,
The far fam'd Seat of Albion's ancient Sway.
Arriv'd, they enter; Guards surrounding wait,
Whilst Bruce is seated on a Throne of State.
Then from the Altar of the hallow'd Fane,
The sacred Officers the Rites began.
The Regal Oyl, first, plac'd by pious Hands,
In holy Vases on the Altar stands.
The tuneful Choir their solemn Voices raise,
And Heav'n resounds the consecrated Lays.
71
In od'rous Drops descends the hallow'd Show'r.
Of Gold and Jewels next the Imperial Crown,
(A daz'ling Radiance!) round his Temples shone.
Mean while, the Chiefs, and the attending Train,
Intently gazing on the awful Scene,
With Wonder saw a Flame, innoxious, spread
Its lambent Glories round the Monarch's Head;
Amaz'd, beheld unusual Splendors rise!
Play o'er his Face, and sparkle in his Eyes.
Again the Choir their Notes in Consort joyn,
Warbles the Heav'nly Anthem thro' the Shrine.
The Crowd in Peals of loud Applauses rise,
And catch'd, from Vault to Vault, the ecchoing Noise
Rolls thro' the Dome, and rattles in the Skies.
The Rites perform'd, attended by his Train,
The sacred Monarch leaves the hallow'd Fane.
To Rooms of State ascends the Royal Guest,
Where Boards stood loaded with a rich Repast.
Gay sparkling Bowls the various Banquet cheer,
And Music's Charms again suspend the Ear.
The Royal Repast done, succeeds the Ball,
And Caledonian Beauties grace the Hall;
In rich Attire attend their gen'rous Prince,
And in bright Measures lead the num'rous Dance.
Now Night, once more, the Boards with Goblets crown'd,
Long live the King! in ev'ry Glass goes round;
Round from repeated Bowls rich Nectar flows,
Till drowsy Slumbers summon their Repose.
The sacred Monarch leaves the hallow'd Fane.
72
Where Boards stood loaded with a rich Repast.
Gay sparkling Bowls the various Banquet cheer,
And Music's Charms again suspend the Ear.
The Royal Repast done, succeeds the Ball,
And Caledonian Beauties grace the Hall;
In rich Attire attend their gen'rous Prince,
And in bright Measures lead the num'rous Dance.
Now Night, once more, the Boards with Goblets crown'd,
Long live the King! in ev'ry Glass goes round;
Round from repeated Bowls rich Nectar flows,
Till drowsy Slumbers summon their Repose.
The rising Beams glow on the Verge of Day,
And o'er old Ocean's heaving Bosom play.
The noble Bruce Imperial Scoon forsakes,
To Bertha's Tow'rs a Royal Journey takes.
With him fierce Edward issues to the Plain,
Lennox the bold, and Athol's hardy Thane.
Randal and Hay, two Thunderbolts of War!
Seton and Boyd to guard their Prince prepare.
The daring Somerveil in Armour shines,
And hardy Fraser his Battalions joyns.
Inchmartin, Barclay, on the Field appear,
And doughty Douglas glitter'd in the Rear.
Five hundred Spears advance in bright Array,
Gleam o'er the Lawns, and doubly gild the Day.
In Bertha's Tow'rs the crafty Pembroke stay'd,
And twice Ten hundred his Commands obey'd.
Before the Town, then girt with Walls around,
The King approaching, mark'd the proper Ground.
Near to the Works encamp'd the Squadrons lay,
Commission'd thence two Trumpets take their Way.
Straight to the Gates the martial Heraulds came,
Requir'd the Place in good King Robert's Name;
Summon'd the haughty Pembroke soon to yield,
Or bravely meet their Master in the Field.
The Chief, indignant, hears the bold Alarm,
Deigns no Reply, but bids the Legions arm.
Throughout the Troops the Leader's Orders run,
And, quick, in Arms the warlike South'ron shone.
Back to the Camp the Heraulds soon repair,
And bid their Monarch for the Fight prepare.
The Scots hear from the Walls the loud Alarms,
The ecchoing Trumpets, and the Din of Arms.
Repairs each Leader to his fix'd Command,
And rang'd in firm Array the Legions stand.
The King on Horseback views th'embattled Lines,
Then dauntless at their Head in Armour shines.
Ready to sally, now, the South'ron Train,
The Gates unfolding, hasten to the Plain;
When lo! a Chief before the Ranks appears,
Grave were his Looks, and rev'rend were his Years;
In ev'ry martial Art precisely skill'd,
Deep at the Board, and daring in the Field.
Sir Inghraham Omphraville', well known to Fame,
In Peace and War a venerable Name!
The issuing Troops his awful Presence stay'd,
And thus the Chief to haughty Pembroke said.
‘High from the Walls I view'd yon level Strand,
‘Where Scots array'd in firm Battalia stand;
‘Compar'd to us, a small, but dauntless Train,
‘Inur'd to Blood, and harden'd to the Plain.
‘Their Countrey's Love a gen'rous Warmth imparts,
‘Arms their intrepid Hands, and steels their Hearts.
‘See! round the Ranks great Bruce exerts his Care,
‘Cheers ev'ry Bosom, and inflames the War.
‘Full of his Sire! his Sire well known of old,
‘In Council subtil, and in Action bold.
‘Yon other Chiefs oft have I seen before,
‘Thunder thro' Death, and sweep the bloody Shore.
‘Glory and Liberty their Bosoms fill,
‘And ev'ry Captain boasts a Gen'ral's Skill.
‘Greater our Numbers, but yon hardy Train,
‘Long us'd to War, are matchless on a Plain.
‘Therefore, my Lord, the doubtful Field delay,
‘And promise Battle the succeeding Day.
‘Cautious, meantime, surprise the Scots by Slight,
‘Secure and guardless 'midst the Shades of Night.
And o'er old Ocean's heaving Bosom play.
The noble Bruce Imperial Scoon forsakes,
To Bertha's Tow'rs a Royal Journey takes.
With him fierce Edward issues to the Plain,
Lennox the bold, and Athol's hardy Thane.
73
Seton and Boyd to guard their Prince prepare.
The daring Somerveil in Armour shines,
And hardy Fraser his Battalions joyns.
Inchmartin, Barclay, on the Field appear,
And doughty Douglas glitter'd in the Rear.
Five hundred Spears advance in bright Array,
Gleam o'er the Lawns, and doubly gild the Day.
In Bertha's Tow'rs the crafty Pembroke stay'd,
And twice Ten hundred his Commands obey'd.
Before the Town, then girt with Walls around,
The King approaching, mark'd the proper Ground.
Near to the Works encamp'd the Squadrons lay,
Commission'd thence two Trumpets take their Way.
Straight to the Gates the martial Heraulds came,
Requir'd the Place in good King Robert's Name;
Summon'd the haughty Pembroke soon to yield,
Or bravely meet their Master in the Field.
74
Deigns no Reply, but bids the Legions arm.
Throughout the Troops the Leader's Orders run,
And, quick, in Arms the warlike South'ron shone.
Back to the Camp the Heraulds soon repair,
And bid their Monarch for the Fight prepare.
The Scots hear from the Walls the loud Alarms,
The ecchoing Trumpets, and the Din of Arms.
Repairs each Leader to his fix'd Command,
And rang'd in firm Array the Legions stand.
The King on Horseback views th'embattled Lines,
Then dauntless at their Head in Armour shines.
Ready to sally, now, the South'ron Train,
The Gates unfolding, hasten to the Plain;
When lo! a Chief before the Ranks appears,
Grave were his Looks, and rev'rend were his Years;
In ev'ry martial Art precisely skill'd,
Deep at the Board, and daring in the Field.
75
In Peace and War a venerable Name!
The issuing Troops his awful Presence stay'd,
And thus the Chief to haughty Pembroke said.
‘High from the Walls I view'd yon level Strand,
‘Where Scots array'd in firm Battalia stand;
‘Compar'd to us, a small, but dauntless Train,
‘Inur'd to Blood, and harden'd to the Plain.
‘Their Countrey's Love a gen'rous Warmth imparts,
‘Arms their intrepid Hands, and steels their Hearts.
‘See! round the Ranks great Bruce exerts his Care,
‘Cheers ev'ry Bosom, and inflames the War.
‘Full of his Sire! his Sire well known of old,
‘In Council subtil, and in Action bold.
‘Yon other Chiefs oft have I seen before,
‘Thunder thro' Death, and sweep the bloody Shore.
‘Glory and Liberty their Bosoms fill,
‘And ev'ry Captain boasts a Gen'ral's Skill.
76
‘Long us'd to War, are matchless on a Plain.
‘Therefore, my Lord, the doubtful Field delay,
‘And promise Battle the succeeding Day.
‘Cautious, meantime, surprise the Scots by Slight,
‘Secure and guardless 'midst the Shades of Night.
Assents the Leader, and the Troops recals;
Sudden proclaims a Trumpet from the Walls,
This Night each Army to their Rest repair,
And let to Morrow's Sun decide the War.
He said. The Scots, Part on the Field abode,
And Part to Methwen's neighb'ring Forest rode,
In soft Repose to lull each anxious Care,
Thoughtless of Danger, undisturb'd by Fear.
Sudden proclaims a Trumpet from the Walls,
This Night each Army to their Rest repair,
And let to Morrow's Sun decide the War.
He said. The Scots, Part on the Field abode,
And Part to Methwen's neighb'ring Forest rode,
In soft Repose to lull each anxious Care,
Thoughtless of Danger, undisturb'd by Fear.
Now Cynthia, silent, sheds a silver Light,
Gilds the blue Expanse, and adorns the Night.
The Planets round in various Orbits roll,
Glows with unnumber'd Fires the spangled Pole.
A solemn Horror settles on the Woods,
And deeper roll the Murmurs of the Floods.
Late to their Rest retire the lab'ring Swains,
And Silence o'er the Face of Nature reigns.
'Twas now the South'ron Chiefs for Fight prepare,
And from the Walls lead forth th'embattl'd War.
The waving Lances shoot a beamy Light,
And doubly gild the Glories of the Night.
To Methwen, where the Scots securely lay,
The crafty Leaders shape their silent Way.
Swift as they march'd, by Chance a watchful Knight
Descries the Squadrons thro' the gleamy Night.
Sudden he hastes to rouze the slumb'ring Crowd:
By that sly Ompraville attacks the Wood.
The hardy King had scarce his Banner cry'd,
When Pembroke thunder'd at the Forest Side.
The narrow Forest no Defence cou'd yield,
Then rush'd the daring Monarch to the Field.
The Scottish Chiefs to guard the Standard ran,
Furious commenc'd the Combat on the Plain.
Together fast the Battle brimly goes,
Loud to the Skies the thick'ning Clamours rose.
From forged Steel thick flash'd the streamy Light,
Mix'd with the Air, and blaz'd along the Night.
The doughty King aloud his Banner cries,
And furious 'midst the thickest Squadrons flies.
His burnisht Brand was heavy, sharp, and long,
With ireful Force he hew'd amidst the Throng.
Thro' shining Armour bursts the crimson Gore,
And a red Deluge floats along the Shore.
The Chiefs advance, their Sov'reign to sustain,
And haughty Pembroke meets the loyal Train.
Fierce with a Shout the Hosts together bound,
Trembles the Forest, and the Skies resound.
A Waste of Ruin round the Field is spread,
And Heaps on Heaps ly roll'd the mangled Dead.
The noble King exerts his awful Might,
And Edward's Fury flam'd amidst the Fight.
There Somerveil dealt round his deadly Blows,
And doughty Douglas thunder'd on his Foes.
Bold Lennox here, there Athol's hardy Band
Pour on the Front, and sweep the deathful Strand.
Pembroke with Grief their awful Force beheld,
His Troops all broke, and reeling in the Field;
Unable to sustain their martial Fire,
Dismay'd he stood, and ready to retire;
When Omphraville (the Scottish Commons won)
And Moubray on the Rear a Charge begun.
This Pembroke saw, and soon his Pow'r recalls,
And with fresh Vigour in the Front assails.
The Scots o'erpow'rd, and on the Point to yield,
With Rage and Grief the glorious King beheld.
Aloud his royal Banner calls again,
And fiercely rushes on th'opposing Train.
Thro' all the Ranks he scatters Death around,
Red roll the Crimson Torrents o'er the Ground.
To save his Friends, and to secure the State,
What Wonders wrought he in the dire Debate!
But vain the Thought, thus singly to sustain
The War's whole Tide, and Fury of the Plain.
Urg'd in the Front, encompass'd on the Rear,
His fainting Squadrons all for Flight prepare.
Their Foes no longer able to withstand,
Diverse they fled, and left the bloody Strand.
Randal and Somerveil proud Pembroke bore
Inchmartin, Barclay, Captives from the Shore.
And Fraser, long for martial Deeds renown'd,
And other Chiefs the South'ron Triumph crown'd.
The hardy Moubray rushing o'er the Strand,
Had seiz'd the Bruce's Bridle in his Hand;
Loud to the Legions the bold Warrior cries,
Haste to my Aid, mine is the Royal Prize.
But daring Seton sees the captive Prince,
And, sudden, rushes to his Lord's Defence;
High, in his Right, he bore a flaming Brand,
On Moubray's Helm the thickning Blows descend;
Till, bent beneath his Force, he quits the Rein,
And reels, and staggers, stunn'd, along the Plain.
The King, thus rescu'd, from the Battle fled,
And South'ron Chiefs to Perth their Captives led.
Dispatch'd, a Courier speeds o'er Solway's Shore,
And Pembroke's Letters to great Edward bore.
Joyful, he reads the Action on the Plain,
The Bruce's Rout, the Captives, and the slain;
Each Pris'ner soon a barb'rous Death enjoyns:
But the wise Leader baulks his Lord's Designs.
His crafty Speeches their Intentions try'd,
And Bounty fix'd them to the hostile Side:
Their Lives he granted, Liberties restor'd,
And ev'n young Randolf own'd a South'ron Lord .
The Commons all a joynt Obedience yield,
Dismay'd, and routed in the bloody Field,
Forsake their Homage since the fatal Strife,
And meanly barter Liberty for Life.
The noble Monarch thus by Fraud o'erthrown,
His Hopes near ruin'd, and his Succours gone;
To Mountains, Wilds, and Desarts now repairs,
To shun the Danger of surrounding Wars.
Edward attends him on his lonely Way,
Athol, and Douglas, and the loyal Hay.
Campbel and Haliburton with him ride,
Names all devoted to the righteous Side.
Three hundred Peasants gath'ring to their Lord,
A weak but voluntary Aid afford.
'Midst barren Rocks, and unfrequented Ways,
The Royal Outlaw spends his irksom Days.
Wild Roots his Hunger, and his Thirst allay'd
The friendly Stream that thro' the Valley stray'd.
Green Moss by Night affords his homely Bed,
'Midst the dark Forest's hospitable Shade.
Thus, lonely, wander'd, overset with Pow'r,
The Royal Exile on his native Shore:
Till pinch'd with Cold and Want, the feeble Train
Their Toils no longer able to sustain;
Where fair Devana's friendly Fortress lay,
Thro' Roads uncouth direct their secret Way.
Thither the Queen and beauteous Ladies came,
Brave Neil attending on the Royal Dame.
Gilds the blue Expanse, and adorns the Night.
The Planets round in various Orbits roll,
Glows with unnumber'd Fires the spangled Pole.
77
And deeper roll the Murmurs of the Floods.
Late to their Rest retire the lab'ring Swains,
And Silence o'er the Face of Nature reigns.
'Twas now the South'ron Chiefs for Fight prepare,
And from the Walls lead forth th'embattl'd War.
The waving Lances shoot a beamy Light,
And doubly gild the Glories of the Night.
To Methwen, where the Scots securely lay,
The crafty Leaders shape their silent Way.
Swift as they march'd, by Chance a watchful Knight
Descries the Squadrons thro' the gleamy Night.
Sudden he hastes to rouze the slumb'ring Crowd:
By that sly Ompraville attacks the Wood.
The hardy King had scarce his Banner cry'd,
When Pembroke thunder'd at the Forest Side.
The narrow Forest no Defence cou'd yield,
Then rush'd the daring Monarch to the Field.
78
Furious commenc'd the Combat on the Plain.
Together fast the Battle brimly goes,
Loud to the Skies the thick'ning Clamours rose.
From forged Steel thick flash'd the streamy Light,
Mix'd with the Air, and blaz'd along the Night.
The doughty King aloud his Banner cries,
And furious 'midst the thickest Squadrons flies.
His burnisht Brand was heavy, sharp, and long,
With ireful Force he hew'd amidst the Throng.
Thro' shining Armour bursts the crimson Gore,
And a red Deluge floats along the Shore.
The Chiefs advance, their Sov'reign to sustain,
And haughty Pembroke meets the loyal Train.
Fierce with a Shout the Hosts together bound,
Trembles the Forest, and the Skies resound.
A Waste of Ruin round the Field is spread,
And Heaps on Heaps ly roll'd the mangled Dead.
79
And Edward's Fury flam'd amidst the Fight.
There Somerveil dealt round his deadly Blows,
And doughty Douglas thunder'd on his Foes.
Bold Lennox here, there Athol's hardy Band
Pour on the Front, and sweep the deathful Strand.
Pembroke with Grief their awful Force beheld,
His Troops all broke, and reeling in the Field;
Unable to sustain their martial Fire,
Dismay'd he stood, and ready to retire;
When Omphraville (the Scottish Commons won)
And Moubray on the Rear a Charge begun.
This Pembroke saw, and soon his Pow'r recalls,
And with fresh Vigour in the Front assails.
The Scots o'erpow'rd, and on the Point to yield,
With Rage and Grief the glorious King beheld.
Aloud his royal Banner calls again,
And fiercely rushes on th'opposing Train.
80
Red roll the Crimson Torrents o'er the Ground.
To save his Friends, and to secure the State,
What Wonders wrought he in the dire Debate!
But vain the Thought, thus singly to sustain
The War's whole Tide, and Fury of the Plain.
Urg'd in the Front, encompass'd on the Rear,
His fainting Squadrons all for Flight prepare.
Their Foes no longer able to withstand,
Diverse they fled, and left the bloody Strand.
Randal and Somerveil proud Pembroke bore
Inchmartin, Barclay, Captives from the Shore.
And Fraser, long for martial Deeds renown'd,
And other Chiefs the South'ron Triumph crown'd.
The hardy Moubray rushing o'er the Strand,
Had seiz'd the Bruce's Bridle in his Hand;
Loud to the Legions the bold Warrior cries,
Haste to my Aid, mine is the Royal Prize.
81
And, sudden, rushes to his Lord's Defence;
High, in his Right, he bore a flaming Brand,
On Moubray's Helm the thickning Blows descend;
Till, bent beneath his Force, he quits the Rein,
And reels, and staggers, stunn'd, along the Plain.
The King, thus rescu'd, from the Battle fled,
And South'ron Chiefs to Perth their Captives led.
Dispatch'd, a Courier speeds o'er Solway's Shore,
And Pembroke's Letters to great Edward bore.
Joyful, he reads the Action on the Plain,
The Bruce's Rout, the Captives, and the slain;
Each Pris'ner soon a barb'rous Death enjoyns:
But the wise Leader baulks his Lord's Designs.
His crafty Speeches their Intentions try'd,
And Bounty fix'd them to the hostile Side:
Their Lives he granted, Liberties restor'd,
And ev'n young Randolf own'd a South'ron Lord .
82
Dismay'd, and routed in the bloody Field,
Forsake their Homage since the fatal Strife,
And meanly barter Liberty for Life.
The noble Monarch thus by Fraud o'erthrown,
His Hopes near ruin'd, and his Succours gone;
To Mountains, Wilds, and Desarts now repairs,
To shun the Danger of surrounding Wars.
Edward attends him on his lonely Way,
Athol, and Douglas, and the loyal Hay.
Campbel and Haliburton with him ride,
Names all devoted to the righteous Side.
Three hundred Peasants gath'ring to their Lord,
A weak but voluntary Aid afford.
'Midst barren Rocks, and unfrequented Ways,
The Royal Outlaw spends his irksom Days.
83
The friendly Stream that thro' the Valley stray'd.
Green Moss by Night affords his homely Bed,
'Midst the dark Forest's hospitable Shade.
Thus, lonely, wander'd, overset with Pow'r,
The Royal Exile on his native Shore:
Till pinch'd with Cold and Want, the feeble Train
Their Toils no longer able to sustain;
Where fair Devana's friendly Fortress lay,
Thro' Roads uncouth direct their secret Way.
Thither the Queen and beauteous Ladies came,
Brave Neil attending on the Royal Dame.
Devana
! boasted Seat of Arts divine,
Renown'd by Phœbus, and the sacred Nine!
With all th'immortal Stores of Science grac'd,
The Spoils of Rome, and Trophies of the East.
Since, driv'n by barb'rous Bands, th'harmonious Maids,
From Thespian Bow'rs, and from the Latian Shades;
By Phœbus' Care conducted o'er the Main,
Of old arriv'd on the Tæzalian Plain;
Near where the Don, fam'd for her scaly Brood,
Her Tide disgorges in the Grampian Flood;
A Fabrick stands, whose gilded Tow'rs on high,
Rear'd into Diadems, invade the Sky.
Here meets th'Albanian Prince the tuneful Choir,
And hails the Patron of the sounding Lyre;
Conducts the Muses to the gay Retreat,
Assigns their Mansion, and confirms their Seat.
Renown'd by Phœbus, and the sacred Nine!
With all th'immortal Stores of Science grac'd,
The Spoils of Rome, and Trophies of the East.
84
From Thespian Bow'rs, and from the Latian Shades;
By Phœbus' Care conducted o'er the Main,
Of old arriv'd on the Tæzalian Plain;
Near where the Don, fam'd for her scaly Brood,
Her Tide disgorges in the Grampian Flood;
A Fabrick stands, whose gilded Tow'rs on high,
Rear'd into Diadems, invade the Sky.
Here meets th'Albanian Prince the tuneful Choir,
And hails the Patron of the sounding Lyre;
Conducts the Muses to the gay Retreat,
Assigns their Mansion, and confirms their Seat.
O much lov'd Seat! Nurse of my tender Days,
Accept this humble Tribute of my Lays.
So may each Art and Science grace thy Halls,
And Wealth and Splendor still adorn thy Walls.
May ev'ry Muse, and ev'ry Grace be thine,
As Love and Gratitude shall still be mine.
Thy duteous Sons shall sing thy Glories round,
And Dona's Banks repeat the pleasing Sound.
To ev'ry Lyre the rural Pow'rs shall crowd,
The Sylvan Gods; and Naiads of the Flood;
With Raptures list'ning to the Song divine,
Inspir'd by Phœbus and the sacred Nine.
Let Helicon his Fountains boast no more,
Nor Tyber glory in his vocal Shore;
Ye Greek and Latian Springs resign your Fame,
Now lost in Dona's consecrated Stream.
Accept this humble Tribute of my Lays.
So may each Art and Science grace thy Halls,
And Wealth and Splendor still adorn thy Walls.
85
As Love and Gratitude shall still be mine.
Thy duteous Sons shall sing thy Glories round,
And Dona's Banks repeat the pleasing Sound.
To ev'ry Lyre the rural Pow'rs shall crowd,
The Sylvan Gods; and Naiads of the Flood;
With Raptures list'ning to the Song divine,
Inspir'd by Phœbus and the sacred Nine.
Let Helicon his Fountains boast no more,
Nor Tyber glory in his vocal Shore;
Ye Greek and Latian Springs resign your Fame,
Now lost in Dona's consecrated Stream.
Within the neighb'ring Walls the Monarch lay,
Liv'd on Delight, and lov'd the Hours away.
The other Chiefs amidst their Consorts Charms,
Forget their Toils, and lull the Din of Arms.
Short their Delights. From all th'adjacent Lands,
And neighb'ring Strengths, arose the South'ron Bands.
Assemble to the War the gath'ring Pow'rs,
And joyn and thicken to Devana's Tow'rs.
The King appriz'd, nor able to sustain
Th'unequal Force, withdraws his little Train.
From Deva's Shores to Avon's spacious Source,
The Royal Bands remensurate their Course.
There rode the Queen, and all the lovely Fair,
'Midst barren Climes expos'd to bleaky Air.
Near where M'dougal held his Savage Sway,
The Monarch with his thin Battalions lay.
M'dougal Nevoy to the Cumin slain,
Fir'd with Revenge, advances to the Plain.
A thousand Shields approaching to the Fight,
Dart from their bossy Orbs a glimm'ring Light.
The hardy King near to a Forest stands,
And to Array calls forth his faithful Bands.
Three hundred Lances glitter in the Air,
Move into Ranks, and wait the barb'rous War.
Swift as their native Does, the hostile Train
Arm'd with fell Axes, bounding to the Plain;
By fierce M'dougal violently led,
On Bruce's Host a furious Onset made.
Ye Gods! how dire, how dreadful was the Fray?
How fierce the Charge, how obstinate the Day?
The bold M'dougal's Troops, a barb'rous Crowd,
Inur'd to Rapine, and bred up to Blood;
Like Wolves untam'd, or like the Mountain Boar,
Their Fury on the Royal Squadrons pour,
And with fell Axes mow the bloody Shore.
'Twas here the noble King was hard essay'd,
At once his Courage, Force, and Conduct try'd.
He mark'd the Fury of the barb'rous Host,
And saw his Friends bestrow the sanguine Coast;
With Grief beheld the Havock of the Day,
Ev'n Douglas bleeding, and the gallant Hay.
He felt his Soul pierc'd with the tender Sight,
And call'd forth all the Wonders of his Might.
Awful in Ire, his Banner cry'd aloud,
And rush'd resistless on the Savage Crowd.
Thro' the crush'd War with dreadful Force he broke,
Trembled the nodding Forest at the Shock.
As when some furious Whirlwind sweeps the Plain,
Sounds thro' the Skies, and settles on the Main;
Mix'd in black Tempest rising Billows roll,
Roars the vex'd Ocean, and resounds the Pole.
Thus far'd the Monarch 'midst the adverse Band,
Thus burn'd the thickning Combat on the Strand.
The barb'rous Foe, stopt in their bloody Course,
Stood still, and gaz'd, astonish'd, at his Force.
While pour'd in Torrents rolls the Savage Gore,
And Tenscore Axes strow the Crimson Shore;
Ev'n fierce M'dougal dreads the Monarch's Might,
Yet fir'd with Rage still animates the Fight.
Meantime the Queen, and all the lovely Crowd,
From the thick Covert of the shady Wood,
Viewing the Fury of each adverse Train,
And all the variows Terrors of the Plain;
Amaz'd, and trembling at the Face of War,
Thus to the Heav'ns their ardent Vows prefer.
Liv'd on Delight, and lov'd the Hours away.
The other Chiefs amidst their Consorts Charms,
Forget their Toils, and lull the Din of Arms.
Short their Delights. From all th'adjacent Lands,
And neighb'ring Strengths, arose the South'ron Bands.
86
And joyn and thicken to Devana's Tow'rs.
The King appriz'd, nor able to sustain
Th'unequal Force, withdraws his little Train.
From Deva's Shores to Avon's spacious Source,
The Royal Bands remensurate their Course.
There rode the Queen, and all the lovely Fair,
'Midst barren Climes expos'd to bleaky Air.
Near where M'dougal held his Savage Sway,
The Monarch with his thin Battalions lay.
M'dougal Nevoy to the Cumin slain,
Fir'd with Revenge, advances to the Plain.
A thousand Shields approaching to the Fight,
Dart from their bossy Orbs a glimm'ring Light.
87
And to Array calls forth his faithful Bands.
Three hundred Lances glitter in the Air,
Move into Ranks, and wait the barb'rous War.
Swift as their native Does, the hostile Train
Arm'd with fell Axes, bounding to the Plain;
By fierce M'dougal violently led,
On Bruce's Host a furious Onset made.
Ye Gods! how dire, how dreadful was the Fray?
How fierce the Charge, how obstinate the Day?
The bold M'dougal's Troops, a barb'rous Crowd,
Inur'd to Rapine, and bred up to Blood;
Like Wolves untam'd, or like the Mountain Boar,
Their Fury on the Royal Squadrons pour,
And with fell Axes mow the bloody Shore.
'Twas here the noble King was hard essay'd,
At once his Courage, Force, and Conduct try'd.
88
And saw his Friends bestrow the sanguine Coast;
With Grief beheld the Havock of the Day,
Ev'n Douglas bleeding, and the gallant Hay.
He felt his Soul pierc'd with the tender Sight,
And call'd forth all the Wonders of his Might.
Awful in Ire, his Banner cry'd aloud,
And rush'd resistless on the Savage Crowd.
Thro' the crush'd War with dreadful Force he broke,
Trembled the nodding Forest at the Shock.
As when some furious Whirlwind sweeps the Plain,
Sounds thro' the Skies, and settles on the Main;
Mix'd in black Tempest rising Billows roll,
Roars the vex'd Ocean, and resounds the Pole.
Thus far'd the Monarch 'midst the adverse Band,
Thus burn'd the thickning Combat on the Strand.
The barb'rous Foe, stopt in their bloody Course,
Stood still, and gaz'd, astonish'd, at his Force.
89
And Tenscore Axes strow the Crimson Shore;
Ev'n fierce M'dougal dreads the Monarch's Might,
Yet fir'd with Rage still animates the Fight.
Meantime the Queen, and all the lovely Crowd,
From the thick Covert of the shady Wood,
Viewing the Fury of each adverse Train,
And all the variows Terrors of the Plain;
Amaz'd, and trembling at the Face of War,
Thus to the Heav'ns their ardent Vows prefer.
Thou! at whose Voice Divine the Thunders roll,
And shake the solid Basis of the Pole;
Whose dreadful Nod ev'n Gods and Men obey,
Thou sole, thou sacred Rector of the Sky!
To our joynt Vows thine Ear, propitious, bend,
And thine Anointed from his Foes defend;
Bear him, thou mighty Arbiter of Fate,
Far from the Fury of the dire Debate;
Or crush the hostile War, and drive yon Band,
Dismay'd and wither'd, from the bloody Strand:
The Monarch's Labours crown, reward his Toils,
And bid him triumph in the Rebel-spoils.
They said, and Heav'n assents to half the Pray'r,
The Half rejects and mingles with the Air.
And shake the solid Basis of the Pole;
Whose dreadful Nod ev'n Gods and Men obey,
Thou sole, thou sacred Rector of the Sky!
To our joynt Vows thine Ear, propitious, bend,
And thine Anointed from his Foes defend;
Bear him, thou mighty Arbiter of Fate,
Far from the Fury of the dire Debate;
90
Dismay'd and wither'd, from the bloody Strand:
The Monarch's Labours crown, reward his Toils,
And bid him triumph in the Rebel-spoils.
They said, and Heav'n assents to half the Pray'r,
The Half rejects and mingles with the Air.
Just as the Foe again for Fight prepare,
Range in fierce Ranks, and recommence the War;
The King, with Wisdom as with Valour grac'd,
His Bands assembling, thus the Chiefs addrest.
Range in fierce Ranks, and recommence the War;
The King, with Wisdom as with Valour grac'd,
His Bands assembling, thus the Chiefs addrest.
You see, yon Rebel animates his Train,
His Squadrons rallies, and renews the Plain;
Num'rous their Troops, and well with Weapons stor'd,
A brutal People with a Savage Lord,
Stock'd with Provisions in their native Soil;
We pinch'd with Famine, and fatigu'd with Toil.
Suffice it then, we once have check'd their Course,
Their Fury blunted, and repell'd their Force.
Nor let us further tempt our doubtful Fate,
But save our Friends, and cautiously retreat.
Renown'd the Chiefs, whose Souls, undaunted, dare
Face the stern Day, and meet the Front of War!
Can Slaughter in each hideous Form disdain,
Thunder thro' Fate, and sweep the ghastly Plain!
The Hero lives exalted into Fame:
Nor less the Glory of that Leader's Name,
Who, prest with Odds, can check his martial Fire,
Elude the Foe, and cautiously retire.
His Squadrons rallies, and renews the Plain;
Num'rous their Troops, and well with Weapons stor'd,
A brutal People with a Savage Lord,
Stock'd with Provisions in their native Soil;
We pinch'd with Famine, and fatigu'd with Toil.
Suffice it then, we once have check'd their Course,
Their Fury blunted, and repell'd their Force.
91
But save our Friends, and cautiously retreat.
Renown'd the Chiefs, whose Souls, undaunted, dare
Face the stern Day, and meet the Front of War!
Can Slaughter in each hideous Form disdain,
Thunder thro' Fate, and sweep the ghastly Plain!
The Hero lives exalted into Fame:
Nor less the Glory of that Leader's Name,
Who, prest with Odds, can check his martial Fire,
Elude the Foe, and cautiously retire.
Thus spoke the King; and soon, in just Array,
Retreat the Legions from th'unequal Day.
The hostile Squadrons for the Chase prepare,
But the bold Monarch sternly guards the Rear.
Douglas, and Hay, and all the Chiftains stand
In Arms (an Iron Bulwark!) on the Strand.
Till by Degrees retiring from the Field,
The loyal Troops had gain'd the Woody Bield.
His Hopes all blasted, and his Purpose crost,
To Lorn Mcdougal reconducts his Host.
Retreat the Legions from th'unequal Day.
The hostile Squadrons for the Chase prepare,
But the bold Monarch sternly guards the Rear.
Douglas, and Hay, and all the Chiftains stand
In Arms (an Iron Bulwark!) on the Strand.
Till by Degrees retiring from the Field,
The loyal Troops had gain'd the Woody Bield.
92
To Lorn Mcdougal reconducts his Host.
Thus to the Wood the King and Chiefs repair,
Safe from the Noise and Danger of the War;
There found the Queen, and all the charming Train,
And in their lovely Arms forget their Pain.
By their soft Hands each Scar, and bleeding Wound,
With studious Care is tented, bath'd, and bound.
Not Phœbus self, God of the healing Art,
Cou'd half so swift, so Sov'reign Ease impart.
Her Dittany no longer Crete shall boast,
No more Arabia vaunt her balmy Coast;
The fair Physicians speedier Aid afford,
Their Touch was Med'cine, and their Lips restor'd.
The weary Chiefs, secure from dire Alarms,
Feed on their Eyes, and live upon their Charms;
In pleasing Dialogue consume the Light,
And melt in softer Extasies the Night.
Safe from the Noise and Danger of the War;
There found the Queen, and all the charming Train,
And in their lovely Arms forget their Pain.
By their soft Hands each Scar, and bleeding Wound,
With studious Care is tented, bath'd, and bound.
Not Phœbus self, God of the healing Art,
Cou'd half so swift, so Sov'reign Ease impart.
Her Dittany no longer Crete shall boast,
No more Arabia vaunt her balmy Coast;
The fair Physicians speedier Aid afford,
Their Touch was Med'cine, and their Lips restor'd.
The weary Chiefs, secure from dire Alarms,
Feed on their Eyes, and live upon their Charms;
In pleasing Dialogue consume the Light,
And melt in softer Extasies the Night.
93
Now, late in Ocean bath'd, th'autumnal Star
Rears his red Orb, and shoots a keener Glare.
Around, his Breath in sultry Vapours flies,
Glows the parch'd Earth, and flame the middle Skies.
Long had the Host consum'd their irksom Time,
'Midst barb'rous Foes, and in a horrid Clime;
By Hunger driv'n, pursu'd the Hunter's Toil,
O'er Craggy Cliffs, and thro' a desart Soil;
Spoil'd all the Forests of their Savage Game,
Ransack'd each Den, and pillag'd ev'ry Stream;
Now spent with Labour much, with Famine more,
At last prepare to quit the rugged Shore.
'Bove all, the Royal Dame, and beauteous Train,
Strange to the Hardships of a rough Campaign;
By Hunger pinch'd, and round with Foes beset,
Resolve to flee, and tempt their future Fate.
The King and Chiefs their Consorts Sorrows shar'd,
Mourn'd their declining Strength and Charms impair'd;
With boding Hearts the lovely Fair embrac'd,
And, bath'd in Tears, the sad Departure haste.
The noble Neil , and Athol's loyal Thane,
Direct the Way, and guide the lovely Train.
Rears his red Orb, and shoots a keener Glare.
Around, his Breath in sultry Vapours flies,
Glows the parch'd Earth, and flame the middle Skies.
Long had the Host consum'd their irksom Time,
'Midst barb'rous Foes, and in a horrid Clime;
By Hunger driv'n, pursu'd the Hunter's Toil,
O'er Craggy Cliffs, and thro' a desart Soil;
Spoil'd all the Forests of their Savage Game,
Ransack'd each Den, and pillag'd ev'ry Stream;
Now spent with Labour much, with Famine more,
At last prepare to quit the rugged Shore.
'Bove all, the Royal Dame, and beauteous Train,
Strange to the Hardships of a rough Campaign;
By Hunger pinch'd, and round with Foes beset,
Resolve to flee, and tempt their future Fate.
The King and Chiefs their Consorts Sorrows shar'd,
Mourn'd their declining Strength and Charms impair'd;
94
And, bath'd in Tears, the sad Departure haste.
The noble Neil , and Athol's loyal Thane,
Direct the Way, and guide the lovely Train.
On
Dona's fertile Banks a Fortress stood,
Stupendous Pile! the Labour of some God.
Held by the Father of the Royal Dame,
Impregnable! Kildrummy is its Name.
Thither the watchful Chiefs, with loyal Care,
Thro' Wilds, and Paths unknown, conduct the Fair.
There at their Ease the tender Beauties rest,
But still the Monarch labours in their Breast.
The Monarch! who, meantime, thro' Hills and Dales,
'Midst barren Rocks, and solitary Vales;
With Fates averse, with Cold, and Famine's Pains,
Superior strives, and Heav'n his Soul sustains.
Stupendous Pile! the Labour of some God.
Held by the Father of the Royal Dame,
Impregnable! Kildrummy is its Name.
Thither the watchful Chiefs, with loyal Care,
Thro' Wilds, and Paths unknown, conduct the Fair.
There at their Ease the tender Beauties rest,
But still the Monarch labours in their Breast.
The Monarch! who, meantime, thro' Hills and Dales,
'Midst barren Rocks, and solitary Vales;
With Fates averse, with Cold, and Famine's Pains,
Superior strives, and Heav'n his Soul sustains.
95
How deep the Counsels of th'Eternal Mind?
Man's Thoughts how stinted, and his Views how blind?
Far in the Womb of Causes, fix'd on high,
Events in regular Confusion ly;
Till Heav'n shall by Degrees each Link unloose,
And Step by Step our future Fate disclose;
Not Man, but Angels, shall explore in vain
The winding Order of the mystic Chain.
Mortals, obedient to th'Eternal Nod,
Must Hope, and suffer, and attend the God.
Man's Thoughts how stinted, and his Views how blind?
Far in the Womb of Causes, fix'd on high,
Events in regular Confusion ly;
Till Heav'n shall by Degrees each Link unloose,
And Step by Step our future Fate disclose;
Not Man, but Angels, shall explore in vain
The winding Order of the mystic Chain.
Mortals, obedient to th'Eternal Nod,
Must Hope, and suffer, and attend the God.
Thus, long the Monarch struggled with his Fate,
Glorious in Patience, and resign'dly great;
Means and Events he weigh'd with proper Care,
In Counsel wise, and terrible in War;
Thought ev'ry Scene, in ev'ry Act sedate,
Bold to attack, and cautious to retreat:
No Toil refusing for the State's Defence,
A loving Father, and a gen'rous Prince.
Glorious in Patience, and resign'dly great;
Means and Events he weigh'd with proper Care,
In Counsel wise, and terrible in War;
Thought ev'ry Scene, in ev'ry Act sedate,
Bold to attack, and cautious to retreat:
No Toil refusing for the State's Defence,
A loving Father, and a gen'rous Prince.
96
Thus long, Illustrious, in Distress he lay,
And spent, in Mountain Wastes, his tedious Hours away:
Nor durst, sore pinch'd with Want, the loyal Pow'r
Forsake the Heights, or tempt the Champaign Shore.
Now Autumn past, approach'd the wintry Sway,
And Night's black Shades usurp'd upon the Day.
The gath'ring Clouds descending from on high,
Lowr, fraught with Storms, and threaten in the Sky.
The North's chill Breath comes keener o'er the Plain,
And, sharper thrilling, scuds the thicken'd Rain.
The noble Bruce, unable now to bear,
Amidst a desart Clime, th'inclement Year;
His Legions warns, resolving to retreat,
And in Cantyre to tempt his future Fate.
Meanwhile, before the gen'rous Campbel sends,
To view the Countrey, and apprise his Friends,
Then to Lochlowmond march the loyal Band,
And find a crazy Birlin on the Strand;
They launch the Boat, and, Pair by Pair, the Host
In twice twelve Hours attain the farther Coast.
The hungry Legions scour the desert Lawns,
Beat round the Woods, and rouze the nimble Fawns.
Bold Lennox hears, amaz'd, the mingled Sounds
Of cheering Horns about, and op'ning Hounds.
Lennox! who, here, since Methwen's fatal Strife,
On Roots, and Savage Game sustain'd his Life.
He knew the King, and warn'd his little Pow'r,
And, joyful, met him near the briny Shore.
At once the Monarch and the Chiefs drew near,
And, courteous, hail and hug the loyal Peer.
The loyal Peer supplies the Host with Food,
The Mountain-Goat, and Product of the Wood.
Of Toils and Dangers past the various Tale
Mutual Diverts, and cheers the welcome Meal.
The Repast ended, rose the Royal Train,
And hasted to the Margin of the Main.
By this had faithful Campbel gain'd the Land,
And Ships, with Victuals fraught, obscur'd the Strand.
The joyful Host soon launch into the Deep,
And lab'ring Oars the foamy Billows sweep.
Th'Hebridian Chief, who stretch'd his ample Reign
Wide o'er the Daughters of the Western Main ,
The Monarch welcomes to the friendly Coast,
And gen'rous entertains the loyal Host.
Three Days they rested, then put out to Sea,
And to Raclinda plow'd the liquid Way.
Raclinda's Boors their ready Aid afford,
Receive with Joy, and own their righteous Lord;
Gladly supply the Troops with needful Store:
A friendly Race, an hospitable Shore.
Thro' the black Season here the Monarch stay'd
Obscure, and Fame around proclaim'd him dead.
Meanwhile his Foes assemble all their Bands,
Harass his Kindred, and ransack their Lands.
No Diff'rence put 'twixt Sacred and Profane,
And ev'n the hallow'd Mitre pled in vain.
Glasgow's old, loyal, venerable Sire ,
In Bonds and Dungeons felt the Faction's Ire.
The noble Seton , ever dear to Fame,
A Godlike Patriot, and a spotless Name;
By factious Treason in Lochdown betray'd,
And to Augusta's hostile Tow'rs convey'd;
For Scotia's Sake resign'd his gallant Breath,
Great in his Life, and glorious in his Death.
Seton! thou Brave, thou ever loyal Name!
How the Muse warms with the exalted Theme!
Let Rome no more her fam'd Presevers boast,
Camillus, Curii, and the Fabian Host;
Old Albion, in her Setons, vaunts her Odds,
A Race of Heroes rising into Gods.
The Royal Dame, beset with trait'rous Pow'r,
Forsakes Kildrummy, and the faithless Shore.
Northward she fled, but Rossia's Rebel-Thane
Betray'd, ungenerous, the Femal Train;
Convey'd them Captive to Augusta's Tow'rs,
To waste, confin'd, their melancholy Hours.
And spent, in Mountain Wastes, his tedious Hours away:
Nor durst, sore pinch'd with Want, the loyal Pow'r
Forsake the Heights, or tempt the Champaign Shore.
Now Autumn past, approach'd the wintry Sway,
And Night's black Shades usurp'd upon the Day.
The gath'ring Clouds descending from on high,
Lowr, fraught with Storms, and threaten in the Sky.
The North's chill Breath comes keener o'er the Plain,
And, sharper thrilling, scuds the thicken'd Rain.
The noble Bruce, unable now to bear,
Amidst a desart Clime, th'inclement Year;
His Legions warns, resolving to retreat,
And in Cantyre to tempt his future Fate.
Meanwhile, before the gen'rous Campbel sends,
To view the Countrey, and apprise his Friends,
Then to Lochlowmond march the loyal Band,
And find a crazy Birlin on the Strand;
97
In twice twelve Hours attain the farther Coast.
The hungry Legions scour the desert Lawns,
Beat round the Woods, and rouze the nimble Fawns.
Bold Lennox hears, amaz'd, the mingled Sounds
Of cheering Horns about, and op'ning Hounds.
Lennox! who, here, since Methwen's fatal Strife,
On Roots, and Savage Game sustain'd his Life.
He knew the King, and warn'd his little Pow'r,
And, joyful, met him near the briny Shore.
At once the Monarch and the Chiefs drew near,
And, courteous, hail and hug the loyal Peer.
The loyal Peer supplies the Host with Food,
The Mountain-Goat, and Product of the Wood.
Of Toils and Dangers past the various Tale
Mutual Diverts, and cheers the welcome Meal.
The Repast ended, rose the Royal Train,
And hasted to the Margin of the Main.
98
And Ships, with Victuals fraught, obscur'd the Strand.
The joyful Host soon launch into the Deep,
And lab'ring Oars the foamy Billows sweep.
Th'Hebridian Chief, who stretch'd his ample Reign
Wide o'er the Daughters of the Western Main ,
The Monarch welcomes to the friendly Coast,
And gen'rous entertains the loyal Host.
Three Days they rested, then put out to Sea,
And to Raclinda plow'd the liquid Way.
Raclinda's Boors their ready Aid afford,
Receive with Joy, and own their righteous Lord;
Gladly supply the Troops with needful Store:
A friendly Race, an hospitable Shore.
Thro' the black Season here the Monarch stay'd
Obscure, and Fame around proclaim'd him dead.
99
Harass his Kindred, and ransack their Lands.
No Diff'rence put 'twixt Sacred and Profane,
And ev'n the hallow'd Mitre pled in vain.
Glasgow's old, loyal, venerable Sire ,
In Bonds and Dungeons felt the Faction's Ire.
The noble Seton , ever dear to Fame,
A Godlike Patriot, and a spotless Name;
By factious Treason in Lochdown betray'd,
And to Augusta's hostile Tow'rs convey'd;
For Scotia's Sake resign'd his gallant Breath,
Great in his Life, and glorious in his Death.
Seton! thou Brave, thou ever loyal Name!
How the Muse warms with the exalted Theme!
Let Rome no more her fam'd Presevers boast,
Camillus, Curii, and the Fabian Host;
100
A Race of Heroes rising into Gods.
The Royal Dame, beset with trait'rous Pow'r,
Forsakes Kildrummy, and the faithless Shore.
Northward she fled, but Rossia's Rebel-Thane
Betray'd, ungenerous, the Femal Train;
Convey'd them Captive to Augusta's Tow'rs,
To waste, confin'd, their melancholy Hours.
T'assail Kildrummy South'ron next prepare,
And young Caernarvan heads the num'rous War.
Great Glocester the youthful Leader joyns,
And, 'midst his Squadrons, hardy Hertford shines.
In broad Array the Legions sweep along,
And round the Walls dispose the warlike Throng.
Each Gate young Edward views, each Pass secures,
And Storms of Batt'ries rattle on the Tow'rs.
But gallant Neil, and Athol's hardy Thane
Repel the Fury of the hostile Train:
In vain an Iron Tempest round them flies,
And Shocks of Engines thunder thro' the Skies.
Their noble Breasts no Sense of Danger palls,
Each Soul undaunted, as unmov'd the Walls.
Tir'd with the fruitless Task, th'impatient Prince
His Sire admonish'd of the bold Defence.
The haughty Sire soon arms his awful Pow'r,
And onward speeds to Solway's sandy Shore.
Fond Man! How inscious of thy mortal Date?
How blind to that last swift Approach of Fate?
In vain thou seest thy steely Legions glare,
And triumph'st in the Pomp of impious War.
In thy fond Heart proud Conquest vainly reigns,
And Lust of lawless Pow'r thy Bosom stains.
In vain oppressive Sway thy Breast inspires:
Behold the Period of thy vast Desires!
Sudden, thou feel'st thy latest Minutes roll,
And in a paultry Hutt expir'st thy Soul .
Pride and Ambition hand thee down to Fame,
And Tyranny sits black upon thy Name.
Not so, when once, 'gainst unbelieving Foes,
Flam'd thy dread Fauchion in the sacred Cause!
When Antioch saw thee Thunder on her Shore,
And Syrian Streams run red with Pagan Gore.
'Twas then bright Trophies to thy Name arose,
And Bays unfading grac'd thy awful Brows.
Now lawless Might and Fraud the Scene o'ercast,
Wither thy Laurels, and thy Triumphs blast.
Now, unlamented, thou resign'st thy Breath,
The Hate of Life, and Ridicule of Death.
And young Caernarvan heads the num'rous War.
Great Glocester the youthful Leader joyns,
And, 'midst his Squadrons, hardy Hertford shines.
In broad Array the Legions sweep along,
And round the Walls dispose the warlike Throng.
Each Gate young Edward views, each Pass secures,
And Storms of Batt'ries rattle on the Tow'rs.
But gallant Neil, and Athol's hardy Thane
Repel the Fury of the hostile Train:
101
And Shocks of Engines thunder thro' the Skies.
Their noble Breasts no Sense of Danger palls,
Each Soul undaunted, as unmov'd the Walls.
Tir'd with the fruitless Task, th'impatient Prince
His Sire admonish'd of the bold Defence.
The haughty Sire soon arms his awful Pow'r,
And onward speeds to Solway's sandy Shore.
Fond Man! How inscious of thy mortal Date?
How blind to that last swift Approach of Fate?
In vain thou seest thy steely Legions glare,
And triumph'st in the Pomp of impious War.
In thy fond Heart proud Conquest vainly reigns,
And Lust of lawless Pow'r thy Bosom stains.
In vain oppressive Sway thy Breast inspires:
Behold the Period of thy vast Desires!
Sudden, thou feel'st thy latest Minutes roll,
And in a paultry Hutt expir'st thy Soul .
102
And Tyranny sits black upon thy Name.
Not so, when once, 'gainst unbelieving Foes,
Flam'd thy dread Fauchion in the sacred Cause!
When Antioch saw thee Thunder on her Shore,
And Syrian Streams run red with Pagan Gore.
'Twas then bright Trophies to thy Name arose,
And Bays unfading grac'd thy awful Brows.
Now lawless Might and Fraud the Scene o'ercast,
Wither thy Laurels, and thy Triumphs blast.
Now, unlamented, thou resign'st thy Breath,
The Hate of Life, and Ridicule of Death.
Meanwhile the Scots maintain Kildrummy's Tow'rs,
And Darts and Jav'lins mix in Iron Show'rs.
High in their glitt'ring Arms the Chiefs appear,
And from the Walls annoy the hostile War.
Impregnable the mighty Fortress stands,
And braves the Force of all the South'ron Bands.
Vex'd at the vain Attack, the Prince recals
His Troops, just ready to forsake the Walls:
When suddenly a mighty Flame he spies
Burst from the Roof, and crackle in the Skies.
Accurst Contrivance! a perfidious Scot
Had in a secret Tow'r the Treason wrought.
At this, the Prince again his Squadrons forms,
And with fresh Force the flaming Fortress storms.
Betray'd, the brave Defendants, and amaz'd,
With Tears upon the spreading Mischief gaz'd.
No longer equal to the dire Dispute,
Assail'd by Fire within, by Foes without;
Their Hopes extinguish'd, their Provisions lost,
On Terms surrender to the South'ron Host.
But haughty Edward, who no Terms observ'd,
Some hang'd, some quarter'd, some in Prisons starv'd.
The Chiefs, brave Neil and Athol long renown'd,
Their Fate amidst a thousand Torments found.
And Darts and Jav'lins mix in Iron Show'rs.
High in their glitt'ring Arms the Chiefs appear,
And from the Walls annoy the hostile War.
103
And braves the Force of all the South'ron Bands.
Vex'd at the vain Attack, the Prince recals
His Troops, just ready to forsake the Walls:
When suddenly a mighty Flame he spies
Burst from the Roof, and crackle in the Skies.
Accurst Contrivance! a perfidious Scot
Had in a secret Tow'r the Treason wrought.
At this, the Prince again his Squadrons forms,
And with fresh Force the flaming Fortress storms.
Betray'd, the brave Defendants, and amaz'd,
With Tears upon the spreading Mischief gaz'd.
No longer equal to the dire Dispute,
Assail'd by Fire within, by Foes without;
Their Hopes extinguish'd, their Provisions lost,
On Terms surrender to the South'ron Host.
But haughty Edward, who no Terms observ'd,
Some hang'd, some quarter'd, some in Prisons starv'd.
104
Their Fate amidst a thousand Torments found.
And now Caernarvan and his Bands retire,
To pay the last sad Duties to his Sire.
The Court expecting on the Border-strand,
Welcome the Monarch to his native Land.
Peers, Prelates, Gen'rals, Knights, a splendid Train!
Sumptuous attend, and aid the solemn Scene;
To Westminster in sable Pomp proceed,
Yawns the deep Marble, and receives the Dead!
The Sire's last Rites perform'd, his royal Son,
The young Caernarvan, mounts the South'ron Throne.
To pay the last sad Duties to his Sire.
The Court expecting on the Border-strand,
Welcome the Monarch to his native Land.
Peers, Prelates, Gen'rals, Knights, a splendid Train!
Sumptuous attend, and aid the solemn Scene;
To Westminster in sable Pomp proceed,
Yawns the deep Marble, and receives the Dead!
The Sire's last Rites perform'd, his royal Son,
The young Caernarvan, mounts the South'ron Throne.
Meantime brave Bruce on Rauchlin's rugged Shores,
Patient consumes the Winter's bleaky Hours;
Intirely inscious of the Low-land State,
His Captive Queen, and mighty Edward's Fate.
Nor Fame had yet o'er those wild Mountains spread
Kildrummy sack'd, and his lov'd Brother dead.
Unknowing, and unknown, his Days he past,
Far on a horrid, unregarded Coast.
But Douglas weary of the dull Delay,
The vain-spent Night, and the inactive Day;
The martial Youth aspiring now to Fame,
To prove his Worth, and to assert his Name;
Cou'd brook no longer this inglorious Rest,
And thus, impatient, the bold Boyd addrest.
Patient consumes the Winter's bleaky Hours;
Intirely inscious of the Low-land State,
His Captive Queen, and mighty Edward's Fate.
Nor Fame had yet o'er those wild Mountains spread
Kildrummy sack'd, and his lov'd Brother dead.
105
Far on a horrid, unregarded Coast.
But Douglas weary of the dull Delay,
The vain-spent Night, and the inactive Day;
The martial Youth aspiring now to Fame,
To prove his Worth, and to assert his Name;
Cou'd brook no longer this inglorious Rest,
And thus, impatient, the bold Boyd addrest.
‘How long, my Friend, thus idly shall we moan
‘Our Fortunes ruin'd, and the State undone?
‘How long shall Albion's unrelenting Foes
‘Feed on her Spoils, and triumph in her Woes,
‘While thus her Cause her Sons like Cowards yield,
‘Nor dare assert her in the gen'rous Field?
‘Forbid it Heav'n! nor let the Douglas' Fame
‘Sink in a dastard Son's inglorious Name.
‘No; like my Sires, I'll seek the dire Debate,
‘Meet the brave Day, and court the Face of Fate.
‘Henceforth this anxious Soul shall know no Rest,
‘No Ease these Limbs, no Peace this lab'ring Breast;
‘Till Albion, free from Force of foreign Bands,
‘And from her impious Sons more barb'rous Hands,
‘Shall in her Pomp of ancient Splendor rise,
‘Her Glory fill the Earth, and reach the distant Skies;
‘Till Bruce, succeeding to his Right divine,
‘Shall add new Lustre to great Fergus' Line.
He said: And Boyd assented as he spoke,
And at the King a sudden Leave they took.
‘Our Fortunes ruin'd, and the State undone?
‘How long shall Albion's unrelenting Foes
‘Feed on her Spoils, and triumph in her Woes,
‘While thus her Cause her Sons like Cowards yield,
‘Nor dare assert her in the gen'rous Field?
‘Forbid it Heav'n! nor let the Douglas' Fame
‘Sink in a dastard Son's inglorious Name.
‘No; like my Sires, I'll seek the dire Debate,
‘Meet the brave Day, and court the Face of Fate.
106
‘No Ease these Limbs, no Peace this lab'ring Breast;
‘Till Albion, free from Force of foreign Bands,
‘And from her impious Sons more barb'rous Hands,
‘Shall in her Pomp of ancient Splendor rise,
‘Her Glory fill the Earth, and reach the distant Skies;
‘Till Bruce, succeeding to his Right divine,
‘Shall add new Lustre to great Fergus' Line.
He said: And Boyd assented as he spoke,
And at the King a sudden Leave they took.
Swift from the rough Raclinda's steepy Bay,
Launch the bold Chiefs, and sweep the wat'ry Way,
Fly o'er the whit'ning Surface of the Main,
And land on Arran's Coast their little Train.
Long had the Isle obey'd the South'ron Pow'r,
And Hastings govern'd on the rocky Shore.
In Bradwick Fortress lay the hostile Band,
When Boyd and Douglas gain'd the barren Strand.
The Scots withdrew, and in close Ambush lay,
Far in a Thicket on a scroggy Bay.
Just as the Deputy three Galleys brought,
With Arms, and with Provisions richly fraught;
The Mariners their Vessels quickly moor,
As quick the Scottish Chiefs array their Pow'r.
The Servants led the Victuals from the Main,
Mov'd the stuff'd Waggons o'er the beachy Plain;
When, all amaz'd, the Caravan beheld
The hardy Scots, in Order, take the Field.
As when some Lion, couching on the Lawns,
Views from a rocky Cliff the sportive Fawns;
The lordly Savage shoots along the Way,
Bounds from the Steep, and tears his trembling Prey.
Thus Douglas, furious, rush'd amidst the Foe,
And twenty Deaths the Sea-beat Level strow.
The artful Boyd his needless Aid restrain'd,
But spoil'd th'Attendants, and the Victuals gain'd.
By this bold Hastings hears the warlike Noise,
And ireful to his Friends Assistance flies.
The doughty Douglas spies th'approaching Band,
And sudden hastes to meet them near the briny Strand.
But when the haughty South'ron Chief beheld
The daring Foe thus dauntless take the Field;
Superior, yet he dreads the Douglas' Might,
And back to Brathwick wings his coward Flight.
Brave Douglas to the Walls pursues in vain,
Strong was the Fort, and few the Scottish Train.
The Chief returning finds the hostile Store,
And faithful Boyd attending on the Shore.
Then, in the Covert of a shady Wood,
The Scots themselves and all the Prey bestow'd.
Launch the bold Chiefs, and sweep the wat'ry Way,
Fly o'er the whit'ning Surface of the Main,
And land on Arran's Coast their little Train.
Long had the Isle obey'd the South'ron Pow'r,
And Hastings govern'd on the rocky Shore.
In Bradwick Fortress lay the hostile Band,
When Boyd and Douglas gain'd the barren Strand.
107
Far in a Thicket on a scroggy Bay.
Just as the Deputy three Galleys brought,
With Arms, and with Provisions richly fraught;
The Mariners their Vessels quickly moor,
As quick the Scottish Chiefs array their Pow'r.
The Servants led the Victuals from the Main,
Mov'd the stuff'd Waggons o'er the beachy Plain;
When, all amaz'd, the Caravan beheld
The hardy Scots, in Order, take the Field.
As when some Lion, couching on the Lawns,
Views from a rocky Cliff the sportive Fawns;
The lordly Savage shoots along the Way,
Bounds from the Steep, and tears his trembling Prey.
Thus Douglas, furious, rush'd amidst the Foe,
And twenty Deaths the Sea-beat Level strow.
The artful Boyd his needless Aid restrain'd,
But spoil'd th'Attendants, and the Victuals gain'd.
108
And ireful to his Friends Assistance flies.
The doughty Douglas spies th'approaching Band,
And sudden hastes to meet them near the briny Strand.
But when the haughty South'ron Chief beheld
The daring Foe thus dauntless take the Field;
Superior, yet he dreads the Douglas' Might,
And back to Brathwick wings his coward Flight.
Brave Douglas to the Walls pursues in vain,
Strong was the Fort, and few the Scottish Train.
The Chief returning finds the hostile Store,
And faithful Boyd attending on the Shore.
Then, in the Covert of a shady Wood,
The Scots themselves and all the Prey bestow'd.
Ten Days were past, when Bruce embarques his Host,
And swiftly launches from Raclinda's Coast.
Furnish'd with needful Stores, the Royal Train
In thirty Galleys plow the wat'ry Plain.
On Arran's rocky Isle, direct, they bore,
And Gales, propitious, waft them to the Shore.
There rose a Hamlet on a rugged Bay;
Thither the King and Chiftains bent their Way;
Entred a paultry Inn, and, quick, demand
What Strangers, late, had trod the barren Strand.
Up rose a Female, and the Monarch led
Where Boyd and Douglas held the Forest-shade.
The Bruce his Horn inspires, the veh'ment Blast
Rings thro' the Wood, and floats along the Coast.
Alarm'd the Leaders at the well-known Sound,
With eager haste from out the Thicket bound.
Joyful salute the King, and then relate
The Warden's Foil, and their first prosp'rous Fate:
Thence to the Inn trace back the winding Shore,
And Menials lead along the rifled Store.
Rich South'ron Victuals load the homely Board,
And Boyd and Douglas entertain their Lord.
Next all the Army share a large Repast,
Glad was the King, and merry was the Host.
And swiftly launches from Raclinda's Coast.
Furnish'd with needful Stores, the Royal Train
In thirty Galleys plow the wat'ry Plain.
109
And Gales, propitious, waft them to the Shore.
There rose a Hamlet on a rugged Bay;
Thither the King and Chiftains bent their Way;
Entred a paultry Inn, and, quick, demand
What Strangers, late, had trod the barren Strand.
Up rose a Female, and the Monarch led
Where Boyd and Douglas held the Forest-shade.
The Bruce his Horn inspires, the veh'ment Blast
Rings thro' the Wood, and floats along the Coast.
Alarm'd the Leaders at the well-known Sound,
With eager haste from out the Thicket bound.
Joyful salute the King, and then relate
The Warden's Foil, and their first prosp'rous Fate:
Thence to the Inn trace back the winding Shore,
And Menials lead along the rifled Store.
Rich South'ron Victuals load the homely Board,
And Boyd and Douglas entertain their Lord.
110
Glad was the King, and merry was the Host.
Now ceas'd keen Boreas' freezing Breath to blow,
And Streams, unbound, in grateful Murmurs flow.
No more, thro' louring Skies, mix'd Tempests reign,
Nor angry Surges swell the sounding Main.
Smile all the Meads, and blossom all the Groves,
And the wing'd Songsters chant their tender Loves.
The various Beauties of the Spring appear,
And gentle Zephyrs fan the Genial Year.
The noble King three Days in Arran's Isle,
Refresh'd his Troops, and rested from his Toil.
Now tir'd of Ease, his Thoughts on Carrick bends ,
And thither soon a faithful Courier sends;
Bids him, attentive, view the Country o'er,
Practise with Caution, and their Faith explore.
If friendly—on the Coast a Fire must blaze
,
Th'undoubted Signal of a loyal Race.
The Messenger obeys, and quits the Strand,
And, swift, arrives on Bruce's native Land.
The Peasants tries, but finds them, as he goes,
All sworn to South'ron, all the Monarch's Foes.
Yet or by Chance or Fraud, 'tis hard to say,
The Blaze appear'd upon th'appointed Day.
The careful King beholds the rising Gleam ,
And to the Leaders points the distant Flame.
But whilst the Sailors at their Lord's Command,
Unmoor the Fleet, and clear the crowded Strand;
The Hostess, bent beneath a Load of Years,
Before the Monarch on the Beach appears.
Time on her Brows in wrinkled Furrows sat,
But deep her Counsels, and her Words were Fate.
Some secret Pow'r her lab'ring Bosom sway'd,
Her bristled Hair rose horrid round her Head;
Foaming she stares, her Eye-balls wildly roul,
As Bruce's Fate came full upon her Soul.
Her Words, in more than mortal Sounds, unfold
Long fix'd Decrees, and Oracles of old.
While thus—‘Hail, Mighty Prince! pursue thy Way,
‘Thro' Toil, to Glory and undoubted Sway.
‘Descended of an ancient Druid, I
‘Feel future Scenes, and labour with the Sky.
‘Long shalt thou strugle in the dire Debate,
‘Combat Distresses, and contend with Fate.
‘Ev'n now I see thee sweating on the Shore,
‘And the red Field distain'd with running Gore.
‘I see a Hero, now amidst our Foes,
‘Whose Soul, misled, still loves the loyal Cause;
‘By subtil Art to South'ron Homage brought,
‘Rise on Neglect, and conquer by his Fault .
‘I see a Knight from hostile Regions far,
‘Great in his Wrongs, approach to Aid thy War,
‘The injur'd Exile combats with Disdain
,
‘And Glory crowns him on a foreign Plain.
‘I see yon sable Chief, amidst the Croud ,
‘All grim with Dust, and stain'd with future Blood.
‘Ere yet Eternal Slumbers seal thine Eyes,
‘Ere yet thy Soul shall mount its kindred Skies;
‘To him I hear thy latest Breath impart
‘The pious Charge of thine untainted Heart:
‘Pure from thy Breast, enchas'd in shining Ore,
‘To bear the Relique to the sacred Shore.
‘I see the Hero eager to fulfil
‘The last great Mandate of his Sov'reign's Will,
‘Around encompass'd by a warlike Throng,
‘And joyn'd by Sinclair, and the gallant Young;
‘In Tay's broad Chanel hoist his swelling Sails,
‘Waft o'er the Brine, and reach Iberia's Vales .
‘I see him there oppose his manly Breast
‘To swarming Legions from the swarthy East ;
‘All bath'd in Blood, upon the distant Shore,
‘I see him thunder thro' the Pagan War;
‘I see whole Nations fall beneath his Hand,
‘And Osman's Millions choak th'Iberian Strand.
‘But now his Courage into Rashness grows,
‘And, flush'd with Success, he disdains his Foes;
‘Too far, incautious, tempts the treach'rous Plain,
‘O'erborn by Armies, and by Armies slain.
‘More I cou'd name of ancient loyal Blood,
‘But see—thy Fleet already stems the Flood.
‘Go then, to Glory, patient, trace thy Way,
‘Till once shall dawn the bright immortal Day;
‘When one brave Field shall all thy Labours crown,
‘And Earth and Skies shall eccho thy Renown.
‘And to confirm the Fate I now declare,
‘Mine own two Sons shall all thy Dangers share;
‘Attend thy Toils, 'till the great Task is done,
‘And Fate have fix'd the Bruce on Fergus' ancient Throne.’
And Streams, unbound, in grateful Murmurs flow.
No more, thro' louring Skies, mix'd Tempests reign,
Nor angry Surges swell the sounding Main.
Smile all the Meads, and blossom all the Groves,
And the wing'd Songsters chant their tender Loves.
The various Beauties of the Spring appear,
And gentle Zephyrs fan the Genial Year.
The noble King three Days in Arran's Isle,
Refresh'd his Troops, and rested from his Toil.
Now tir'd of Ease, his Thoughts on Carrick bends ,
And thither soon a faithful Courier sends;
Bids him, attentive, view the Country o'er,
Practise with Caution, and their Faith explore.
111
Th'undoubted Signal of a loyal Race.
The Messenger obeys, and quits the Strand,
And, swift, arrives on Bruce's native Land.
The Peasants tries, but finds them, as he goes,
All sworn to South'ron, all the Monarch's Foes.
Yet or by Chance or Fraud, 'tis hard to say,
The Blaze appear'd upon th'appointed Day.
The careful King beholds the rising Gleam ,
And to the Leaders points the distant Flame.
112
Unmoor the Fleet, and clear the crowded Strand;
The Hostess, bent beneath a Load of Years,
Before the Monarch on the Beach appears.
Time on her Brows in wrinkled Furrows sat,
But deep her Counsels, and her Words were Fate.
Some secret Pow'r her lab'ring Bosom sway'd,
Her bristled Hair rose horrid round her Head;
Foaming she stares, her Eye-balls wildly roul,
As Bruce's Fate came full upon her Soul.
Her Words, in more than mortal Sounds, unfold
Long fix'd Decrees, and Oracles of old.
While thus—‘Hail, Mighty Prince! pursue thy Way,
‘Thro' Toil, to Glory and undoubted Sway.
113
‘Feel future Scenes, and labour with the Sky.
‘Long shalt thou strugle in the dire Debate,
‘Combat Distresses, and contend with Fate.
‘Ev'n now I see thee sweating on the Shore,
‘And the red Field distain'd with running Gore.
‘I see a Hero, now amidst our Foes,
‘Whose Soul, misled, still loves the loyal Cause;
‘By subtil Art to South'ron Homage brought,
‘Rise on Neglect, and conquer by his Fault .
‘I see a Knight from hostile Regions far,
‘Great in his Wrongs, approach to Aid thy War,
114
‘And Glory crowns him on a foreign Plain.
‘I see yon sable Chief, amidst the Croud ,
‘All grim with Dust, and stain'd with future Blood.
‘Ere yet Eternal Slumbers seal thine Eyes,
‘Ere yet thy Soul shall mount its kindred Skies;
‘To him I hear thy latest Breath impart
‘The pious Charge of thine untainted Heart:
‘Pure from thy Breast, enchas'd in shining Ore,
‘To bear the Relique to the sacred Shore.
‘I see the Hero eager to fulfil
‘The last great Mandate of his Sov'reign's Will,
115
‘And joyn'd by Sinclair, and the gallant Young;
‘In Tay's broad Chanel hoist his swelling Sails,
‘Waft o'er the Brine, and reach Iberia's Vales .
‘I see him there oppose his manly Breast
‘To swarming Legions from the swarthy East ;
‘All bath'd in Blood, upon the distant Shore,
‘I see him thunder thro' the Pagan War;
‘I see whole Nations fall beneath his Hand,
‘And Osman's Millions choak th'Iberian Strand.
‘But now his Courage into Rashness grows,
‘And, flush'd with Success, he disdains his Foes;
116
‘O'erborn by Armies, and by Armies slain.
‘More I cou'd name of ancient loyal Blood,
‘But see—thy Fleet already stems the Flood.
‘Go then, to Glory, patient, trace thy Way,
‘Till once shall dawn the bright immortal Day;
‘When one brave Field shall all thy Labours crown,
‘And Earth and Skies shall eccho thy Renown.
‘And to confirm the Fate I now declare,
‘Mine own two Sons shall all thy Dangers share;
‘Attend thy Toils, 'till the great Task is done,
‘And Fate have fix'd the Bruce on Fergus' ancient Throne.’
Thus far the Prophetess, and bent her Way
Back to the Inn; the Monarch put to Sea.
The lab'ring Oars the heaving Billows sweep,
Bound the swift Vessels o'er the hoary Deep.
At last they gain the Bruce's native Land,
And the moor'd Galleys cloud the Oozy Strand.
Dejected, on the Beach appear'd the Squire,
Before commission'd to erect the Fire.
He told the Monarch all was hostile Ground,
And the bold Piercy rul'd the Country round.
Three hundred South'ron waited his Command,
Himself the sov'reign Tyrant of the Land.
Then ask'd the Monarch, how he dar'd to raise
Upon a hostile Coast the trait'rous Blaze?
The Man deny'd; nor knew he how it came,
Nor durst extinguish the deceitful Flame.
Then thus the King accosts the Council round,
‘Or shall we venture on the faithless Ground?
‘Or silent shall we quit the dangerous Plain,
‘Unmoor our Fleet, and measure back the Main?’
To this the fiery Edward first reply'd,
‘No Dread shall drive me back into the Tide;
‘Let Thousands meet our Hundreds on the Strand,
‘Resolv'd I'll venture on the Rebel-land.
The Monarch smil'd, the Chiefs the Sentence own,
March the bold Squadrons to the neighb'ring Town.
'Twas Night, and all secure the South'ron slept,
No Danger dreaded, and no Watches kept.
Diverse, the Scots to distant Quarters go,
And, fierce, with Shouts assail the drousy Foe;
Break splint'ring Bars, and burst opposing Doors,
And with red Torrents, sudden, stain the Floors.
The Air around mix'd Groans and Clamours bears,
And mournful Accents reach Lord Piercy's Ears.
But safe in Turnb'ry-Fortress Piercy lay,
Nor durst approach or mingle in the Fray.
Alone M'Dougal, who betray'd before
The Monarch's Brothers to the South'ron Pow'r;
An ancient Traitor, 'scap'd by sudden Flight,
Unknown, and favour'd by the Shades of Night.
Before the Sun arose to gild the Day,
Drench'd in their Gore three hundred South'ron lay.
Next Turnb'ry Castle the bold Monarch view'd
But then impregnable the Fortress stood.
Two Days Lord Piercy lurk'd within the Walls,
And on the Third a faithful Courier calls.
Straight to Northumberland his Orders sends,
To warn his Friends, and raise his native Bands.
Nortumbrian Pow'rs the Courier soon alarms,
And sudden shone a thousand Men in Arms.
But Gaudifer de Lyle, an ancient Knight ,
Who knew the Scottish Chiefs, and Bruce's Might;
Disswades his Vassals from a March so far,
Propounds the Danger, and deters the War:
The Folly shows to seek in their own Soil
An Host experienc'd, and inur'd to Toil.
The Troops, disheartned, wou'd have quit the Shore,
But hardy St. John animates the Pow'r .
By him conducted, soon arrive the Host,
And guard Lord Piercy to his native Coast.
Secret they march'd, resolving not to fight,
For now the South'ron fear'd the Monarch's Might.
Back to the Inn; the Monarch put to Sea.
The lab'ring Oars the heaving Billows sweep,
Bound the swift Vessels o'er the hoary Deep.
At last they gain the Bruce's native Land,
And the moor'd Galleys cloud the Oozy Strand.
117
Before commission'd to erect the Fire.
He told the Monarch all was hostile Ground,
And the bold Piercy rul'd the Country round.
Three hundred South'ron waited his Command,
Himself the sov'reign Tyrant of the Land.
Then ask'd the Monarch, how he dar'd to raise
Upon a hostile Coast the trait'rous Blaze?
The Man deny'd; nor knew he how it came,
Nor durst extinguish the deceitful Flame.
Then thus the King accosts the Council round,
‘Or shall we venture on the faithless Ground?
‘Or silent shall we quit the dangerous Plain,
‘Unmoor our Fleet, and measure back the Main?’
To this the fiery Edward first reply'd,
‘No Dread shall drive me back into the Tide;
‘Let Thousands meet our Hundreds on the Strand,
‘Resolv'd I'll venture on the Rebel-land.
118
March the bold Squadrons to the neighb'ring Town.
'Twas Night, and all secure the South'ron slept,
No Danger dreaded, and no Watches kept.
Diverse, the Scots to distant Quarters go,
And, fierce, with Shouts assail the drousy Foe;
Break splint'ring Bars, and burst opposing Doors,
And with red Torrents, sudden, stain the Floors.
The Air around mix'd Groans and Clamours bears,
And mournful Accents reach Lord Piercy's Ears.
But safe in Turnb'ry-Fortress Piercy lay,
Nor durst approach or mingle in the Fray.
Alone M'Dougal, who betray'd before
The Monarch's Brothers to the South'ron Pow'r;
An ancient Traitor, 'scap'd by sudden Flight,
Unknown, and favour'd by the Shades of Night.
119
Drench'd in their Gore three hundred South'ron lay.
Next Turnb'ry Castle the bold Monarch view'd
But then impregnable the Fortress stood.
Two Days Lord Piercy lurk'd within the Walls,
And on the Third a faithful Courier calls.
Straight to Northumberland his Orders sends,
To warn his Friends, and raise his native Bands.
Nortumbrian Pow'rs the Courier soon alarms,
And sudden shone a thousand Men in Arms.
But Gaudifer de Lyle, an ancient Knight ,
Who knew the Scottish Chiefs, and Bruce's Might;
Disswades his Vassals from a March so far,
Propounds the Danger, and deters the War:
The Folly shows to seek in their own Soil
An Host experienc'd, and inur'd to Toil.
120
But hardy St. John animates the Pow'r .
By him conducted, soon arrive the Host,
And guard Lord Piercy to his native Coast.
Secret they march'd, resolving not to fight,
For now the South'ron fear'd the Monarch's Might.
Meantime, secure, the Scots in Carrick lay,
And all the Region own'd their Sov'reign's Sway.
The King at Leisure view'd the Country round,
And mark'd the Ruins of his native Ground.
As Phœbus once, declining to the Sea,
Glow'd on the Margin of Hesperian Day;
Along the pleasing Vales the Monarch stray'd,
And Boyd and Douglas clos'd his Royal Side.
Far on the Lawns a warlike Troop they spy'd,
And at their Head a Nymph her Charms display'd.
Advanc'd the Loyal Fair with easy Grace,
The Monarch's Cousin, of Clackmannan's Race .
Approaching, the bright Dame and all her Train
Their Sov'reign hail, submissive, on the Plain.
Her Name and Bus'ness next the Nymph exprest,
The King, surpris'd, the loyal Fair embrac'd.
To serve their Prince, she told, these Warriors came,
The Bruce accepts the Aids, and thanks the gen'rous Dame.
A Band of Forty kneeling on the Shore,
A firm inviolable Homage swore.
The King and Chiefs dispose the listed War,
And straight to Turnb'ry Fort conduct the Fair.
Glad was the Monarch, but his Joy how short,
Soon as he heard the Lady's sad Report?
His Royal Consort to the Foe betray'd,
His Brother, Athol, and brave Seton dead!
How did he mourn, how did the Chiefs deplore
That Scene of Fate to them unknown before?
The Dame herself some Comfort must afford
To soothe the Leaders, and their doleful Lord.
Sometime she stay'd, and her fond Care exprest,
To lull the Tumult in her Sov'reign's Breast:
At last departs, the Chiefs in Order came,
And homeward, grateful, guard the gen'rous Dame.
And all the Region own'd their Sov'reign's Sway.
The King at Leisure view'd the Country round,
And mark'd the Ruins of his native Ground.
As Phœbus once, declining to the Sea,
Glow'd on the Margin of Hesperian Day;
Along the pleasing Vales the Monarch stray'd,
And Boyd and Douglas clos'd his Royal Side.
Far on the Lawns a warlike Troop they spy'd,
And at their Head a Nymph her Charms display'd.
121
The Monarch's Cousin, of Clackmannan's Race .
Approaching, the bright Dame and all her Train
Their Sov'reign hail, submissive, on the Plain.
Her Name and Bus'ness next the Nymph exprest,
The King, surpris'd, the loyal Fair embrac'd.
To serve their Prince, she told, these Warriors came,
The Bruce accepts the Aids, and thanks the gen'rous Dame.
A Band of Forty kneeling on the Shore,
A firm inviolable Homage swore.
The King and Chiefs dispose the listed War,
And straight to Turnb'ry Fort conduct the Fair.
Glad was the Monarch, but his Joy how short,
Soon as he heard the Lady's sad Report?
His Royal Consort to the Foe betray'd,
His Brother, Athol, and brave Seton dead!
122
That Scene of Fate to them unknown before?
The Dame herself some Comfort must afford
To soothe the Leaders, and their doleful Lord.
Sometime she stay'd, and her fond Care exprest,
To lull the Tumult in her Sov'reign's Breast:
At last departs, the Chiefs in Order came,
And homeward, grateful, guard the gen'rous Dame.
She was the Goddess of Revenge, Discord, Ambition, Passions so destructive to human Kind. Any Reader will easily see the Prosopopæia, and likeways understand the Machine.
Thomas Randolf was the King's Nevoy by his Sister: Who being made Pris'ner here, and despairing of his Uncle's Affairs, went heartily in to the English Interest. But being sometime after retaken by James Douglas, restor'd to the King's Favour, and created Earl of Murray, he prov'd one of the greatest Commanders of his Time.
New Aberdeen, situated towards the Mouth of the River Dee. About a Mile from thence Northward lyes old Aberdeen, near the Mouth of the River Don. Where stands a famous University, sounded by Jam. IV. King of Scots.
Was Sister Son to Cumin whom Bruce had slain; and as was natural, resented his Uncle's Death, whilst perhaps he did not know who had the just Title to the Crown. His honourable and loyal Descendents will pardon the Author's being oblig'd to follow the Course of the History, and to treat him here as a Rebel.
The Bishop of Glasgow (our Author does not mention his Name) imprison'd and put to Death by the Cuminian Faction.
Edward I. died suddenly in this Expedition to Scotland, at a Cottage in a Place called Burgh upon the Sands.
Carrick belong'd hereditarily to Robert Bruce in Right of his Mother, which made him the fonder to sound the Inclinations of that People.
I have always found it the greatest Difficulty to bring up such little Circumstances as these to any Degree of Poetry. When the Action is great in it self, and the Incidents proportionally noble, the Poet labours least. A Dignity of Expression rises naturally out of the Greatness of such an Action, and in that Case, a Man has more Use for his Judgment than his Genius, in order to moderate his Heat, and keep him from running up into Rant and Fustain. On the contrary, in petty Circumstances, like this before us, the Judgment has but little to do; nor are they capable of Genius, because they cannot be turn'd out of their own Nature, that is, they cannot be raised or depress'd with any manner of Decorum or Propriety.
In case the Reader shou'd not so well understand this Circumstance, as 'tis narrated in Rhime, I shall tell him in Prose, that the King had commanded a trusty Servant to pass privately over from Arran, (where he then was) into Carrick, one of his own hereditary Possessions, in order to try the Inclinations of that People. If he found them Loyal, he was to erect a Fire upon the nearest Point of Land towards Arran, as a Sign of their Fidelity and good Disposition; but if not, he was to come off privately as he went, without kindling any such Fire. He found them intirely in the English Interest, and Bruce's Enemies to a Man, and consequently erected no Fire. However, either by Chance, or to the King's Imagination, a Fire did appear, which carried him over amongst the Midst of his Enemies.
The Druids were ancient Heathen Priests both in France and Britain. They generally perform'd all their religious Offices under Oak Trees, and from thence receiv'd their Name; for so Oaks are call'd in the Greek and old Celtorseythic Language.
This was Thomas Randolf, the King's Nevoy, who had been taken, and was at this Time in the English Interest; But was afterwards recover'd by James Douglas, as I hinted before. At the Battle of Bannockburn, he happen'd to neglect a Post His Majesty had order'd him to maintain, but afterwards bravely recover'd his Honour, and was a great Instrument in the Victory of that Day.
The Ancestor of the present Duke of Hamilton. His Name was Gilbert Hampton, descended (as some say) of the Family of Leicester. This Gentleman having spoke well of Robert Bruce in the English Court, was, for that Reason, suddenly attack'd, and slightly wounded by one of the Spencers then great Favourites of Edward II. The Croud interpos'd, so as Mr. Hampton could not revenge himself at that Time, but the next Day he met him, and run him through. Upon this he left his Country, and fled to Robert Bruce, who receiv'd him kindly, and in lieu of his Estate, which was then forfeited in England, gave him the Lands of Cardzow, Hamiltoun, &c. in the West, and chang'd his Name from Hampton to Hamilton. He behav'd with the utmost Bravery at Bannockburn, and was knighted on the Field.
This was about the End of the 13th Century, when those Expeditions of the Christian Princes (commonly call'd the Croisade) in order to recover the Holy Land out of the Hands of the Infidels, were hottest. James Douglas having been enjoyn'd (as I have hinted) to carry the King's Heart to the Holy Sepulchre, hearing in his Passage by the Coast of Spain, that the Saracens were very numerous, and prevail'd exceedingly there, immediately landed, engaged and defeated them in several Battles. At last growing too confident of his Success, the Enemy having now become contemptible to him, and venturing to pursue a vast Number with a Handful of Men, he fell into an Ambuscade, was surrounded and slain.
This was not M'Dougal of Lorn, whose Engagement with the King we have describ'd before; but one Duncan McDougal of Galloway, who had betray'd Thomas and Alexander Bruce the King's Brothers to the English; and this is all the Notice my Author takes of that Action.
| The life of Robert Bruce | |