Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs By Walter Thornbury. Illustrated by J. Whistler, F. Walker, John Tenniel, J. D. Watson, W. Small, F. Sandys, G. J. Pinwell, T. Morten, M. J. Lawless, and many others |
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How Lady Blanche Arundel held Wardour for King Charles.
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 | Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs |  |
How Lady Blanche Arundel held Wardour for King Charles.
I.
The First of May, the garland day, that ushers in the Spring,
Saw Wardour Castle fair and strong in arms for Charles the King;
The elms were black with noisy rooks, the meadows gilt with flowers,
With rosary of blossoms, Time counted the dying hours.
Saw Wardour Castle fair and strong in arms for Charles the King;
The elms were black with noisy rooks, the meadows gilt with flowers,
With rosary of blossoms, Time counted the dying hours.
The butler moved his casks about, the chaplain was at bowls,
The grooms were hissing in the stalls, the boys played with the foals,
The Lady Blanche among her maids was busy as the best,
Unconscious that the carrion-crow was hovering o'er her nest.
The grooms were hissing in the stalls, the boys played with the foals,
The Lady Blanche among her maids was busy as the best,
Unconscious that the carrion-crow was hovering o'er her nest.
All suddenly a group of us, upon an outer wall,
Was startled by a warning shout from those within the hall,
And down the wind-tossed avenue, from out a storm of dust,
Galloped a wounded serving-man, whose helmet was all rust.
Was startled by a warning shout from those within the hall,
And down the wind-tossed avenue, from out a storm of dust,
Galloped a wounded serving-man, whose helmet was all rust.
One—two—then three, poor frightened knaves, with faces gashed and torn,
One with a broken sword red-wet, who screamed upon a horn;
And then a rout of flying men groaning and very white,
Each swearing, as he hoped for grace, Cromwell would come that night.
One with a broken sword red-wet, who screamed upon a horn;
And then a rout of flying men groaning and very white,
Each swearing, as he hoped for grace, Cromwell would come that night.
That night our scouts were pouring in, each paler than the last,
The shepherds brought us news of Strode, and many a troop they'd passed
A moment Lady Blanche turned pale, but soon flushed angry red,
To think old England's golden crown should deck a brewer's head.
The shepherds brought us news of Strode, and many a troop they'd passed
A moment Lady Blanche turned pale, but soon flushed angry red,
To think old England's golden crown should deck a brewer's head.
89
All night the melting lead was poured into our bullet-moulds,
The rusty pikes were lifted down from the long ratchet-holds,
Great stones were piled upon each ledge, the guns were duly scoured,
Upon the highest tower our flag of angry challenge lowered.
The rusty pikes were lifted down from the long ratchet-holds,
Great stones were piled upon each ledge, the guns were duly scoured,
Upon the highest tower our flag of angry challenge lowered.
90
The falconets were double charged in every bartizan,
Ready to shower their fiery lead on frowning Puritan;
And every one got out his scarf and plume to ready be,
For gallant face brave men should wear when danger's on the lee.
Ready to shower their fiery lead on frowning Puritan;
And every one got out his scarf and plume to ready be,
For gallant face brave men should wear when danger's on the lee.
The chaplain on his cassocked knees a rusty breast-plate scoured;
The butler, in a pluméd hat, above all others towered;
The very turnspit marched about, with gun and partizan,
As noisy with his threats and oaths as any serving-man.
The butler, in a pluméd hat, above all others towered;
The very turnspit marched about, with gun and partizan,
As noisy with his threats and oaths as any serving-man.
II.
Oh, never daisy wore a frill more trim or yet more white,
No primrose of the early Spring was purer to the sight:
The fleecy clouds of Summer dawn move with such stately grace,
Unchanging morning sunshine shone from out her pretty face.
No primrose of the early Spring was purer to the sight:
The fleecy clouds of Summer dawn move with such stately grace,
Unchanging morning sunshine shone from out her pretty face.
No fawn trips so, no mountain roe a lighter footprint leaves;
The violet loved to have her tread upon its purple leaves;
Before her gentle presence birds ceased not their carolling;
She shed a tranquil joy on all, as does the early Spring.
The violet loved to have her tread upon its purple leaves;
Before her gentle presence birds ceased not their carolling;
She shed a tranquil joy on all, as does the early Spring.
She never chid her serving-maids about their tapestry;
And yet, of all that busy hive, she was the fair Queen Bee.
For idleness, or ribaldry, or drunken revelling sport,
Dared never e'en to set a foot within the inner court.
And yet, of all that busy hive, she was the fair Queen Bee.
For idleness, or ribaldry, or drunken revelling sport,
Dared never e'en to set a foot within the inner court.
She was as gentle as a dove brooding upon its nest;
Yet when that evil news with shrieks came sweeping from the west,
And pale-faced fools were pouring in with news of deadly harm,
She changed at once—a sudden storm broke flashing from that calm.
Yet when that evil news with shrieks came sweeping from the west,
And pale-faced fools were pouring in with news of deadly harm,
She changed at once—a sudden storm broke flashing from that calm.
Her husband and her lord had gone unto the tented field,
To wring from stone-faced Puritans what Puritans would yield;
She was alone without a friend, yet never thought of fear,
For gathered in her castle walls was food for seven year.
To wring from stone-faced Puritans what Puritans would yield;
She was alone without a friend, yet never thought of fear,
For gathered in her castle walls was food for seven year.
III.
That sullen night, just at the dusk, from out those dark fir-trees
A muffled drum, with mournful throb, sounded upon the breeze;
And dark and slow the Puritans began their leaguer then,
Not in the open manly way of honest gentlemen.
A muffled drum, with mournful throb, sounded upon the breeze;
And dark and slow the Puritans began their leaguer then,
Not in the open manly way of honest gentlemen.
They burnt our stacks, they fired our barns, they harried us all day;
At night they poured the hot shot in where we stood firm at bay.
They scorched our walls, they blackened doors, they splintered roof and pane,
But to the brave old trusty place no entrance could they gain.
At night they poured the hot shot in where we stood firm at bay.
They scorched our walls, they blackened doors, they splintered roof and pane,
But to the brave old trusty place no entrance could they gain.
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Our massy walls laughed out to see that grim and yellow host
Spur round and round old Wardour's towers, like couriers riding post.
Their pikes were thirsting for our blood, yet we were snug and warm,—
All under Wardour's battlements were safe from every storm.
Spur round and round old Wardour's towers, like couriers riding post.
Their pikes were thirsting for our blood, yet we were snug and warm,—
All under Wardour's battlements were safe from every storm.
One day a pale-faced trumpeter the rebel dogs sent in,
The gall and bile were oozing through his scurvy sallow skin;
He bade us all surrender to this Cromwell, “England's lord:”
The women were to go in peace; the men, yield to the sword.
The gall and bile were oozing through his scurvy sallow skin;
He bade us all surrender to this Cromwell, “England's lord:”
The women were to go in peace; the men, yield to the sword.
Then Lady Blanche tore up the roll, and trod it underfoot;
We drove the crop-ear from the gate, with scoffing laugh and hoot;
We crushed his trumpet, snapped his staff, and set the dogs at him:
Ha! but for Lady Blanche's grace they'd torn him limb from limb.
We drove the crop-ear from the gate, with scoffing laugh and hoot;
We crushed his trumpet, snapped his staff, and set the dogs at him:
Ha! but for Lady Blanche's grace they'd torn him limb from limb.
Their swords smote blunt upon our steel, and keen upon our buff,
Till coldest-blooded man of us had battering enough;
'T was butt and butt, and point and point, and eager pike to pike,
'T was foin and parry, give and take, as long as we could strike.
Till coldest-blooded man of us had battering enough;
'T was butt and butt, and point and point, and eager pike to pike,
'T was foin and parry, give and take, as long as we could strike.
There, in the breach stood Lady Blanche, a banner in her hand,
Urging us on with voice and look to scourge this currish band.
She stood amid the fire and flame in the red gap of the wall,
An angel sent to comfort us—the bravest of us all.
Urging us on with voice and look to scourge this currish band.
She stood amid the fire and flame in the red gap of the wall,
An angel sent to comfort us—the bravest of us all.
They thinned our ranks, they kept us there in arms by night and day,
Till, oozing out in drops, our strength began to melt away.
We fell asleep while taking food, we scarce had power to load,
Yet even then our Lady's voice woke us as with a goad.
Till, oozing out in drops, our strength began to melt away.
We fell asleep while taking food, we scarce had power to load,
Yet even then our Lady's voice woke us as with a goad.
The fire-balls vexed us night and day, their mines shook down a tower,
Their bullets upon door and roof fell in unpitying shower;
At last, on specious promises of mercy to us all,
Our Lady Blanche hung out a flag of white upon the wall.
Their bullets upon door and roof fell in unpitying shower;
At last, on specious promises of mercy to us all,
Our Lady Blanche hung out a flag of white upon the wall.
They burnt our stables, stole our deer, caught all our fattest carp;
They felled the old oaks in the park with axes keen and sharp;
Unearthed our leaden conduit-pipes, and melted them in bars;
Tore our great pictures into strips, and split the floors in stars.
They felled the old oaks in the park with axes keen and sharp;
Unearthed our leaden conduit-pipes, and melted them in bars;
Tore our great pictures into strips, and split the floors in stars.
This was the way the Rebel Dogs a sacred treaty kept;
Yet God had not forgotten us, nor had His justice slept;
For that day week Newcastle's “Lambs” fell on this lying rout,
Shot, piked, and sabred half the troop, and burnt the others out.
Yet God had not forgotten us, nor had His justice slept;
For that day week Newcastle's “Lambs” fell on this lying rout,
Shot, piked, and sabred half the troop, and burnt the others out.
| Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs | |