i o m a r m i ozv. canto first. the ca stle. d a y set on n orham ’ s castled steep, and tweed’s...
TRANSCRIPT
MARMION I
TALE O F FLO D D EN FIELD .
I N S I X CA N TOS.
A las ! that Scottish maid should s ingThe combat where her lover fe l l
That Scott ish Bar d sh ou l d wake the string,The triumphs of our foes t o tell !
LEYD EN .
THE present story turns upon the private adven
tures of a fictitious characte r ; but is cal led a Tale ofF lodden F ield, because the hero
’
s fate is conne ctedwi th that memorable de feat , and the causes whichled to it. The design o f the A uthor was, if possible ,to apprise his readers , at the outse t , o f the date ofh is Story , and to prepare them for the manners of
the A ge in which it is laid . A ny Historica l N arrat ive , far more an attempt at Ep ic compos i tion , exceeded his p lan o f a R omantic ta le ; yet he may be
permi tted to hope , from the popu larity o f THE LA YO F THE LA ST M IN STR EL , that an attempt to paintthe manners o f the feuda l times , upon a broaderscale , and in the course o f a more interesting story ,wi ll not be unacceptable to the P ub l ic .
The P oem opens about the commencement of
A ugust , and conc ludes w i th the defeat o f F lodden ,9th September , 1 5 1 3 .
A SHESTI EL, 1 808 .
I O M A R M I OZV.
CANTO FIRST.
THE CA STLE .
D A Y se t on N orham’
s cas tled s teep ,And Tweed ’s fai r river , broad and deep ,And Cheviot
'
s mountains lone
The batt led towers , the donjon keep ,The loophole grates , where capt ives weep,The flanking wal l s that round i t sweep ,In yel low lustre shone .
The warriors on the turrets h igh ,M ov i ng athwart the even ing sky ,Seem
’d forms of gian t height :
Their armor , as i t caugh t the rays ,Flash’
d back agai n the wes tern b laze ,In l i nes of dazz l ing l ight .
I I .
Saint George’s banner , broad and gay ,Now faded , as the fad ing ray
Less bright , and l ess , was flung ;The evening gale had scarce the powerTo wave i t o n the Donjon Tower ,5 0 heavi ly i t hung .
M A R M I OZV.
The scouts had parted on the i r search,The Cast l e gates were barr ’d ;Above the gloomy portal arch ,Timing h is foots teps to a march
,
The Warder kept h i s guard ;Low humming , as he paced along ,Some ancient Border gathering song .
I I I .
A distan t trampl i ng sound he hears ;“He l ooks abroad , and soon appears ,O ’er Hornc liff-hi l l a plump of spears ,Beneath a pennon gay ;A horseman , dart ing from the crowd ,Like l ightn ing from a summer cl oud ,Spurs on h is mettl ed courser proud ,Before the dark array .
Beneath the sab le pal isade ,That closed the Cast le barricade ,His bugI e-horn he b lew ;The warder hasted from the wal l ,And warh ’
d the Captain in the hall
For wel l the blas t he knew ;And joyfully that k night d id call
TO ‘sewer , squ i re , and seneschal .
I V .
Now broach ye a pipe of M alvoisie ,Bri ng past ies of the doe ,
I I
1 2 M A R M I ON Z
And quick ly make th e entrance free ,And bid my heralds ready be ,
And every minstrel sound h is glee,
And al l our trumpets b low ;And , from the p latform , spare ye not
To fire a nob le salvo-shot ;Lord M AR M ION wai ts be low
Then to the Castle ’s l ower ward
Sped forty yeomen tal l,
The i ron-studded gates unbarr’d,
Raised the portcul l i s ’ ponderous guard,
The lofty pal isade unsparr’d
And let the drawbridge fal l .
V .
A l ong the bridge Lord M armion rode ,Proudly h is red-roan charger trode ,H is helm hung at the saddlebow ;We l l by h is visage you migh t knowHe was a stalworth knigh t , and keen ;And had i n many a battl e been ;The scar on h is brown cheek reveal’d
A token true o f Bosworth fie ld ;His eyebrow dark , and eye of fire ,
Show ’d spi ri t proud , and prompt to ire ;Yet l ines of thought upon h is cheek
D i d deep design and counsel speak .
His forehead , by h is casque worn bare ,His th ick moustache , and curly hair,
M A /CM I OZV.
Coal-black , and gri zzled here and there ,But more through toi l than age ;His square-turn ’d j oi nts , and strength of
Show’d h im no carpet knigh t so trim ,
But i n cl ose fight a champion grim ,
In camps a l eader sage .
V I .
Well was he arm’d from head to heel ,In mai l and plate of M i lan s teel ;But h is s trong helm , of mighty cost ,Was all wi th burn ish’
d gold emboss ’
d
Amid the plumage of‘ th e crest
A fal con hover’d on her nest ,With wings outspread , and forward breast ;E ’en such a fal con , on h is sh ield ,Soar’d sable i n an azure fie ld
The golden l egend bore arigh t ,Who (ha lts at me, ta Death is b igbt.
Blue was th e charger ’s bro ider’d re in ;Blue ribbons deck’
d h is arch i ng mane ;The knigh t ly housing’s ampl e fold
Was velvet b lue , and trapp’
d wi th gold .
VI I .
Behind h im rode two gal lant s qui res ,O f noble name , and knight ly s i res ;They burn
‘
d th e gi lded spurs to claim ;For wel l could each a war-horse tame ,
1 3
1 4 M A M /f f ozv.
Could draw the bow , the sword could sway,And l igh tly bear the ri ng away ;Nor l ess with courteous precepts s tored
,
Could dance in hal l , and carve at board ,And fram e l ove-d itt i es passi ng rare ,And sing them to a lady-fai r .
V I I I .
Four men -at-arms came at th eir backs,
With halbert , bi l l , and battl e-axe !
They bore Lord M armion ’s lance so strong,
And led hi s sumpter-mules along ,
And ambl i ng pal frey , when at need
H im l is ted ease h i s bat tl e-s teed .
The last and trust i est of th e four ,O h h igh h i s forky pennon bore ;Like swal low ’s tai l , i n shape and hue,F lutter
’d the streamer gl ossy blue ,
Where , blaz on’d sable , as be fore ,
The towering fal con seem’
d to soar .Last , twenty yeomen , two and two ,I n hosen black , and j erki ns b lue ,W i th fal cons broider’d on each b reast ,Attended on thei r l ord ’s behest .
Each , chosen for an arch er good ,Knew hunting-craft by lake or wood ;Each one a six-foot bow could bend ,And far a cloth-yard shaft could send ;
M A R M I OZV. I 5
Each held a boar-spear tough and strong ,And at thei r bel ts thei r quivers rung .
Their dusty palfreys , and array ,Show ’d they had march’
d a weary way .
IX .
’Tis meet that I should te l l you now ,
How fairly arm ’d , and order’d how ,
The sold i ers of th e guard ,
With musket , p ik e , and morion ,To welcome nobl e M armion ,Stood i n th e Cast l e-yard ;
M i nstre ls and trumpeters were there ,The gunner h eld h is l i nstock yare ,For wel come-shot prepared
Enter’d the t rain , and such a clang ,
As then through al l h is turrets rang ,O l d Norham never h eard .
The guards thei r morri ce-pikes advanced ,The trumpets flourish’
d brave ,The cannon from the ramparts glanced ,And thundering wel come gave .
A bl ith e salute , i n mart ial sort ,The mins trel s wel l m igh t sound
,
For , as Lord M arm io n cross’d th e court ,
He scatter’d angels round .
1 6 M A k M /ozv.
Welcome to Norham , M armion !Stout heart , and open hand !
Well dost th ou brook thy gal l ant roan,
Thou flower of Engl i sh land
X I .
Two pursui vants , whom tabarts deck ,With si lver scutcheon round thei r neck
,
Stood on the s teps of ston e,
By which you reach th e donjon gate ,And there , with herald pomp and s tate ,They hail’d Lord M arm ion
They hail’d h im Lord of F ontenaye ,Of Lutterward r and Scrive lbaye ,
O i Tamworth tower and town ;And he , th ei r court esy to requite ,Gave them a chai n of twelve marks”weigh t ,Al l as he l igh ted down .
Now , largesse , largesse , Lord M armion ,Knigh t of the cres t of gold
A blaz on ’d sh i eld , i n battl e won ,
N e’er guarded heart so bold .
”
They marshall’d h im to the Castl e-hal l ,Where the guests stood al l asideAnd l oudly flourish’d th e trumpet-cal l
,
And the heralds loudly cried ,
M A R IMI ON .I 7
Room , l ordi ngs , room for Lord M armion ,With the cres t and he lm of gold
Ful l we l l we know the trophi es wonIn the l i sts of Cottiswold
There , vain ly Ralph de Wi l ton strove’Gainst M armion’s force to stand ;To h im he lost h is lady-l ove ,And to the K ing h is land .
Ourselves beheld th e l i s ted field,A sigh t both sad and fai r ;We saw Lord M armion pierce h is sh ie ld,And saw hi s saddle bare !
We saw the vi ctor wi n the cres t
He wears wi th wor thy pride
And on the gibbet- tree , reversed ,His foeman ’s scu tcheon t ied .
Place , nobl es , for the Falcon -Knigh t !
Room , room , ye gentles gay ,For h im who conquer
’
d i n th e right ,M armion of Fontenaye
XI I I .
Then stepp’
d to meet tha t noble Lord,Sir Hugh the Heron bold ,Baron of Twisel l , and of Ford ,And Captai n of th e Hold .
He l ed Lord M armion to th e dai s ,Rai sed o ’er th e pavemen t h igh ,
A nd placed h im in th e upper placeThey feasted fu l l and h igh :
I 8 [PI A I t’
M I OJV.
The wh i les a Northern harper rudeChanted a rhyme of deadly feud
,
How tfiefi erce Tfi z’
rw aZ/s , a nd R z'
a’
leys a ll ,
S tout WA nd H ardr z
’
dz’
ng D ick ,
A nd H ugbz'
e of Hawdon , and Wi ll 0’the
Have set 071 S ir A [bu l ly F ea l/zer stozzlzaugfz
A nd taken M 5 l if e at the D eadman’
s -s/zaw .
Scantly Lord M armion ’s ear could brook
The harper’s barbarous lay ;Yet much h e praised the pains he took ,And wel l those pains d id pay :
For lady’s sui t , and m i nstre l’s strain ,
By knigh t should ne’er be heard in vain .
XIV .
Now , good Lord M armion , Heron says ,O i your fai r courtesy ,
I pray you bide some l i t tl e spaceIn th is poor tower wi th me .
Here may you keep your arms from rust ,M ay breathe your war-horse wel l
Seldom hath pass’d a week but gius t
O r feat of arms befel lThe Scots can rei n a met tl ed steed ;And l ove to couch a spear
Saint George ! a sti rri ng l ife they lead,That have such ne ighbors near.
I PI A R M ]01V.
Then stay with us a l i t t l e space ,Our northern wars to l earn ;I pray you , for your lady
’s graceLord M armion ’s brow grew stern .
XV .
The Captai n mark ’d h is alter’d l ook ,And gave a squi re the sign ;
A m igh ty wassai l-bowl he t ook ,And crown’d i t h igh i n wine .
N ow pledge me here , Lord M armion
But first I pray thee fair ,Where hast thou left that page of th i ne ,That used to serve thy cup of wine ,Whose beauty was so rare ?
When last i n Raby towers we met ,The boy I closely eyed ,
And often mark’d h i s cheeks were wet
With tears h e fai n would h ide :His was no rugged horse-boy’s hand ,To burni sh sh i e l d or sharpen brand ,O r saddl e batt l e-s teed ;But meeter seem’d for lady fai r ,To fan her cheek , or curl h er hai r ,O r through embroidery , r i ch and rare,The slender s i lk to l ead
H is sk i n was fai r , h i s ri nglets gold ,His bosom— when he s igh
’d,
The russe t doubl et’s rugged fold
Could scarce repe l i ts pride !
20 M A R M I O I V.
Say , hast thou given that l ovely youthTo serve i n lady’ s bower ?
Or was the gentl e page,i n sooth
,
A gent le paramour ?”
XVI .
Lord M arm ion i l l could brook such jest ;He roll
’
d hi s kindl i ng eye ,With pai n h is ris ing wrath suppress
’d ,
Yet made a calm reply
That boy thou thought’st so goodly fair,
He might not brook th e northern ai r ;M ore of h is fate i f thou wouldst l earn ,I l eft h im sick i n LindisfarneEnough of h im But , Heron , say ,Why does thy lovely lady gay
Disdai n to grace the hal l t o-day ?
O r has that dame , so fai r and sage ,Gone on some pious pi lgrimage ?”
He spoke i n covert scorn , for fame
Whisper’
d l igh t tales of Heron’s dame .
XVI I .
Unmark ’d , at l east unreck’d , the taunt
Care less th e Knigh t repl ied
No b ird , whose feathers gai ly flaunt .
Del igh ts in cage to bideNorham i s grim and grated close ,
M A R M I OZV.2 !
Hemm’d in by battl emen t and fosse,And many a darksome tower ;
And bet ter loves my lady brightTo si t i n l iberty and l igh t ,In fai r Queen M argaret
’s bower.
We hold our greyhound i n our hand ,Our fal con on our glove ;But where shal l we find l eash or band
For dame that loves to rove P
Let th e wi ld falcon soar her swing ,She ’l l s toop when she has t i red her wing.
”
XVI I I .
Nay , i f wi th Royal James’s bride
The love ly Lady Heron bide ,Behold me here a messenger ,Your tender greeti ngs prompt to bear ;For , to the Scott ish court address ’d,
l j ourney at our K ing’s behest ,And pray you , of your grace , prov ideFor me , and mine , a trusty guide .
I have not ridden i n Scot land s ince
James back ’d the cause of that mock pri nce.
Warbeck , that F l em ish counterfe it ,Who on the gibbet paid th e cheat .
Then did I march with Surrey’s power ,What t ime we razed o ld Ayton tower .”
2 2 M A 18111101“
XIX .
For such-l ike need , my lord , I trow ,
Norham can find you guides enow ;For here be some have prick
’
d as far ,O h Scott ish ground , as to Dunbar ;Have drunk the monks o f St . Bothan’s ale ,And driven the beeves of Lauderdal e ;Harri ed the wives o f Greenlaw ’s goods ,And given them l ight to set thei r hoods .
XX .
Now , i n good sooth ,” Lord M armion cried ,Were I i n warl ik e wise to ride ,A better guard I would no t lack
Then your stout forayers at my back ;But , as i n form of peace I go ,
A friend ly messenger , to know ,
Why through al l S cotland , near and far ,Their King is mustering troops for war
,
The sight of plundering border spears
M igh t jus ti fy suspicious fears ,And dead ly feud , or th i rs t of spo i l ,Break ou t i n some unseemly bro il
A herald were my fitting guide ;O r friar , sworn i n peace to b ide ;O r pardoner , or trave l l i ng pri est ,Or s trol l ing p i lgrim , at t he leas t .
”
M A R M I O/V.
XXI .
The Captai n mused a l it t le space ,And pass
’
d h is hand across h is face .
Fai n would I find the guide you want,But i l l may spare a pursuivant
,
The on lv men that safe can ride
M i n e errands on the Scott ish s ideAnd though a b ishop bui l t th is fort
,
Few holy breth ren here resort ;Even our good chaplai n , as I ween ,Since our last s i ege , we have not s een
The mass he migh t not s i ng or say ,Upon one st i nted meal a-day ;So , safe h e sat i n Durham ais l e ,And pray
’d for our success th e whi le .
Our Norham vicar , woe bet ide ,I s all too wel l i n case to ride ;The pri est of Shoreswood— he could reinThe wi ldest war-horse i n your tra in ;But then , no spearman i n th e hal l
Wi l l sooner swear , or s tab , or brawl .
Friar John of T illmouth were th e man ;A bl i thesome brothe r at th e can ,A welcome guest i n hal l and bower ,He knows each castl e , town , and tower,In wh ich the wine and al e is good ,’Twixt Newcast l e and Holy-Rood .
23
24 M A R /II I OZV.
But that good man , as i l l b e fal ls ,Hath seldom left our cast le wal ls ,S ince , on the vigi l o f S t. Bede ,In evi l hour , he cross
’d the Tweed
,
To teach Dame Al ison her creed .
O ld Bughtrig found h im with h is wi fe ;And John , an enemy to strife ,Sans frock and hood , fled for h is l i fe .
The jeal ous churl h’ath deeply swore ,That , i f again he ve n ture o
’er ,He shal l shrieve pen i tent no more .
Lit tl e he loves such risks , I know ;Yet , i n your guard , perchance wi l l go .
”
XXI I .
Young Selby , at th e fai r hal l-board ,Carved to h is uncl e and that lord ,And reverently took up the word .
Kind uncl e , woe were we each one ,I f harm should hap to brother Joh n .
He i s a man of mirth ful speech ,Can many a game and gambol teach ;Ful l wel l at tab l es can he play ,And sweep at bowls th e s tak e away.
Nor can a lust i er caro l bawl ,The needfullest among us al l ,When t ime hangs heavy i n the hal l ,And snow comes th i ck at Christmas tide,And we can nei ther hunt , nor ride
M A R M I ON .25
A foray on th e Scott ish s ide .
The vow’
d revenge of Bughtrig rude
M ay end i n worse than l oss of hood .
Let Friar John , i n safe ty . s t i l l
In ch imney-corner snore h is fill ,Roast h iss ing crabs , or flagons swi ll
Last n igh t , to N ot ham there came one
Wil l bette r gu ide Lord M armion .
”
Nephew ,
” quoth Heron , by my fay ,Wel l hast thou spoke ; say forth thy say.
”
XXII I .
Here i s a holy Palmer come ,From Salem first , and last from Rome ;One , that hath kiss
’d th e b lessed tomb ,
And visi ted each holy shrineIn Araby and Pales t ine ;O n h i l ls of A rmen ie hath been ,Where Noah’
s ark may yet be seen ;By t hat Red Sea , too , hath he trod ,Which parted at the prophet ’s rod ;I n Sinai ’s wi l derness he saw
The M ount , where I srae l heard the law,’M id thunder-di nt , and flash ing levin ,And shadows , mists , and darkness , given .
He shows Sai nt James’s cockl e-shel l ,O i fai r M ontserrat , too , can tel l ;And of that Grot where O l ives nod ,
2 6 M A R M I ON .
Where , darl ing of each heart and eye ,From al l the youth of S ic i ly ,Sai n t Rosal i e ret ired to God .
XXIV .
To stout Sai nt George of Norwich merry,
Sain t Thomas , too , of Canterbury ,
Cuthbert of Durham and Saint Bede ,For h i s s i ns ’ pardon hath he pray
’d .
He knows the passes of th e North ,
And seeks far shrines beyond the Forth ;Li tt l e h e eats , and long wi l l wake ,And dri nks but
'
of th e stream or lake .
Thi s were a guide o ’er moor and dale ;But , when our john hath quaff
’d h i s ale ,
As l i tt l e as th e wind that blows ,And warms i tsel f agains t h is nose ,Kens he , or cares , which way he goes .
XXV .
Gramercy quoth Lord M armion ,Ful l l o th were I , that Friar John ,That venerable man , for me ,Were placed i n fear or j eopardy .
I f th is same Palmer wi l l m e leadF rom hence to Holy-Rood ,
2 8 M A R M I ON .
XXVI I .
Let pass , quoth M armion ; “ byTh is man shal l guide me on my way ,Although the great arch-fiend and he
Had sworn themse lves of company .
So please you , gentle youth to cal l
Th i s Palmer to th e Cas tl e—hal l .”
The summon ’d Palmer came i n place ;
His sabl e cowl o ’erhung his face ;
In h is b lack mantl e was h e clad,
With Peter’s keys , i n cl oth of red ,O h h i s broad shoulders wrough t ;The scal l op shel l h i s cap d id deck ;The crucifix around h i s neck
Was from Loret to b rough t ;His sandal s were wi th travel tore ,Staff, budget , bottl e , scri p , he wore ;The faded palm -branch i n h is hand
Show ’d pi lgrim from the Holy Land
XXVI I I .
When as th e Palmer came i n hal l ,No lord , nor knigh t , was there more tal l ,Nor had a statel i er s tep wi thal ,O r l ooked more h igh and keen ;For no sal uti ng d id h e wai t ,But strode across th e hal l of state ,And fronted M armion where he sate ,As he h is peer had been .
M A lezwom 29
But h is gaunt frame was worn wi th to i l ;His cheek was sunk , alas the wh i le !And when he struggl ed at a smi le ,His eye look ’
d haggard wild
Poor wretch ! th e mother t hat h im bare,
I f she had been i n presence there ,I n h is wan face , and sun-burn
’
d hai r ,She had not known her ch i ld .
Danger,l ong trave l , want , or woe ,
Soon change th e form that best we know
For deadly fear can t ime outgo ,And blanch at once th e hair ;
Hard toi l can roughen form and face ,And want can quench the eye 's brigh t grace
,
Nor does ol d age a wrinkle trace
M ore deeply than despair .
Happy whom none of these befal l ,But th is poor Palmer knew them al l .
XXIX .
Lord M arm ion then h is boon did ask ;The Palmer took on h im the task ,
So he would march wi t h morning t ide ,To Scot t ish court to be h is gu ide .
But I have sol em n vows to pay,
And may not l i nger by the way ,To fai r S t . Andrews bound ,W i th i n th e ocean-cave to pray ,
3 0 M A R 111]01V.
Where good Sai nt Rule h i s holy layFrom midnigh t to the dawn of day ,Sung to th e b i l l ows ’ sound ;
Thence to Saint F i l lan ’s blessed wel l ,Whose spring can fren zied dreams d ispe l ,And the crazed brai n res tore
Sai n t M ary gran t , that cave or spri ng
Could back to peace my bosom bring ,Or b id i t th rob no more
XXX .
And now th e midnigh t draugh t of s leep,Where wine and spices ri ch ly s teep ,I n mass ive bowl of s i lver deep ,The page presen ts on knee .
Lord M armion drank a fai r good rest ,The Captain pl edged h is nob l e guest ,The cup went th rough among th e rest ,Who drain ’
d i t merri ly ;Alone th e Palmer pass
’
d i t byThough Selby press
’d him courteous ly.
This was a sign the feast was o’er ;I t hush’
d the merry wasse l roar ,The mins tre ls ceased to sound .
Soon i n th e cast l e nough t was heard
But th e sl ow footstep of the guard ,Pacing h is sober round .
M A R M I ON . 3 :
XXXI .
Wi th early dawn Lord M armion roseAnd first th e chapel doors unclose ;Then , after morning ri tes were done
(A hasty mass from Friar John) ,And knigh t and squi re had broke the i r fast ,O n r i ch substan t ial repast ,Lord M armion’s bugles b lew to horse
Then came th e sti rrup-cup i n courseBetween the Baron and h i s host
N0 poi nt of courtesy was los t ;High thanks were by Lord M arm ion paid ,Solemn excuse th e Captai n made
,
TH], filing from the gate , had pass’d
That nobl e trai n , th e i r Lord the last .
Then loudly rung th e trumpe t cal l ;Thunder
’
d the cannon from the wal l ,And shook the Scott i sh shore ;
Around the castl e edd ied s l ow ,
Volumes of smoke as wh i te as snow ,
And hid i ts turrets h oar ;Ti l l they rol l’d forth upon the ai r ,And met th e river breezes there ,Wh ich gave again th e prospect fair.
3 2 M A R M /ON .
CANTO SECOND .
THE CONV EN T.
THE breeze wh i ch swept away the smoke ,Round Norham Castl e rol l’d ,
When al l th e loud arti l l ery spoke,
With l ightn ing-flash and thunder-s troke,
As M armion left the Hold .
I t curl’d not Tweed alone , that breeze ,For , far upon Northumbrian seas ,I t fresh ly b lew , and strong ,
Where , from h igh W'
h i tby’s c lo ister’d pi le ,Bound to S t . Cuthbert ’s Holy I sl e
,
I t bore a bark along .
Upon the gal e she stoop’
d her s ide,
And b ounded o ’er th e swel l ing t ide,
As she were dancing home ;The merry seamen laugh
’
d , to see
Thei r gal lan t sh ip so l ust i ly
Furrow the green sea-foam .
M uch joy’d they i n the i r honor’d fre ight,
For , on the deck , i n chai r of s tate ,The Abbess o f Saint H i l da placed ,W i th five fai r nuns , th e gal l ey graced .
M A 1811110217. 33
I I .’Twas sweet to see thes e holy maids
,
Like b irds e scaped to gre en-wood shadesThei r first fl igh t from the cage ,How timid , and how curious too ,For al l t o th em was strange and new
,
And al l th e common s ights they v iew,
Thei r wonderment engage .
One eyed the shrouds and swel l i ng sai l ,With many a
i
bened ici te ;One at the rippl i ng surge grew pale ,And woul d for terror pray ;Then shriek’d , because th e sea-dog , nigh ,His round b lack head , and spark l i ng eye ,R ear
’d o'er th e foaming spray ;
And one woul d st i l l adjus t her vei l ,D isorder
'
d by th e summer gale ,Perchance l es t some more worldly eye
Her ded icated charms might spy ;P erchance , because such act ion graced
Her fai r-turned arm and slender waist .
Ligh t was each s impl e bosom there ,Save two , who i l l m igh t pl easure share
The Abbess and the Novice Clare .
I I I .
The Abbess was of nobl e b lood ,But early took the ve i l and hood ,
3 4 M A R M ]01V.
Ere upon l i fe she cast a look ,O r knew the world that she forsook .
Fai r too she was , and k ind had beenAs she was fai r , but ne
’er had seenFor her a timid l over s igh
,
Nor knew th e influence of her eye.Love , to her ear , was but a nameCombined wi th vani ty and shame ;Her hopes , her fears , her j oys , were allBounded wi th i n the Cl oi ster wal l :The deadl i es t s i n her m i nd coul d reach ,Was of monasti c rul e th e b reach ;And her amb it ion’s h ighest aimTo emulate Sai nt H i lda ’s fame .
For th i s she gave her ampl e dower,To raise the convent’s eastern tower ;For th is , with carving rare and quaint,She deck ’
d th e chapel of th e saint ,And gave th e rel i c-shri ne of cos t ,With ivory and gems emboss ’d.
The poor her Convent’s boun ty b l est,The pi lgrim i n i ts hal ls found res t.
Black was her garb , her rigid ru le
R eform’d on Benedict i ne school ;
Her cheek was pale , her form was spare ;V igi ls , and peni tence aus tere ,
30 M A s JO/v.
VI .
She sate upon th e gal l ey’s prow ,
And seem’d t o mark the waves bel ow ;
Nay , seem’d , so fix
’d her look and eye
,
To count th em as they gl ided by.
She saw them not ”twas seeming al l
Far oth er scene her th oughts recal l
A sun-scorch’d desert , waste and bare ,
Nor waves , nor breezes , murmur’d th ere ;There saw she , where some care l ess hand
O ’er a dead corpse had heap’d the sand ,
To h ide i t t i l l the jackal s come ,To tear i t from the scanty tombSee what a woefu l l ook was given
As sh e raised up her eyes to heaven !
VI I .
Lovely , and gentl e , and distress’d
These charms migh t tame the fiercest breast ;Harpers have sung , and poe ts told ,That he , i n fury uncontro ll
’d ,
The shaggy monarch of the wood ,Before a vi rgi n
,fai r and good ,
Hath pacified h i s savage mood .
But passions i n the human frameOft put the l i on ’s rage to shameAnd j eal ousy , by dark intrigue ,W i th sord id avarice in league ,
M a rm ion
M A A’M I ON . 3 7
Had pract i sed wi th thei r bowl and knife ,Against th e mourner’s harmless l i fe .
This crime was charged ’gains t those who layP rison
’d i n Cuthbert’s i s let gray .
VI I I .
And now the vessel sk irts the s trand
O f mountainous Northumberland ;Towns , towers , and hal l s , success i ve ri se ,And catch the nun’s del igh te d eyes .
M onk-Wearmouth soon beh ind them lay ;And Tynemouth ’s priory and bay ;They mark ’d , amid her trees , the hal l
O f l ofty Seaton-Delaval
They saw the Blythe and Wansbeck floods
Rush to the sea through sound ing woods ;They pass
’d th e tower of Widdrington ,M other ofmany a val ian t son ;A t Coquet- i s l e the ir beads they tel l
To the good Sain t who own ’d the cel l ;
Then d id the Alne attent ion claim ,
And Warkworth , proud of Percy’s name
And next , they cross’d themsel ves , to hear
The wh i ten ing breakers sound so near ,Where , boi l i ng thro
’ the rocks , they roar
O h D uns tanborough’
s cavern’
d shore ;Thy tower , proud Bamborough , mark
’d
there ,King Ida’s castl e , huge and square ,
38 M A R M I OZV.
From i ts tal l rock looked grimly down,
And on the swell ing ocean frown ;Then from the coas t they bore away
,
And reach’
d the Holy I s land'
s bay .
The tide did now i ts flood-mark gain,
And girdled i n the Sai nt ’s domai n !
For , with the flow and ebb,i ts style
Varies from conti nen t to is l e
D ry-shod , o’er sands , twice every day ,
The pilgrims to the shri ne find way ;Twice every day , the waves efiaceO f staves and sandall
’d feet the trace .
As to the port the gal l ey flew ,
Higher and h igher rose to view
The Cas tle wi th i ts bat tled wal ls ,The ancien t M onastery’s hal ls ,A solemn , huge , and dark-red pi l e ,P laced on the margi n of the is l e .
X .
In Saxon strength that Abbey frown ’d,
W i th mass ive arches broad and round ,That rose al ternate , row and row ,
On ponderous columns , short and low,
Bui l t ere the art was known ,
M A R M I ON . 39
By pointed ai s le , and shafted sta lk,The arcades of an alley
’d walk
To emulate i n stone .
O h th e deep wal ls , the heathen DaneHad pour
’d h is impious rage i n vai n ;And needfu l was such strength to these ,Exposed to the tempestuous seas ,Scourged by the wi nds’ e ternal sway ,Open to rovers fierce as they ,Which could twe lve hundred years wi ths tandWinds , waves , and northern pirates
’ hand .
Not bu t that porti ons of the pi l e ,Rebu i lded in a later s tyl eShow’d where the spoi l er’s hand had been ;N ot but th e wasti ng sea-breeze keenHad worn the p i l lar’s carving quai nt ,And moulder’d i n h is n i che th e saint ,And rounded , with consuming power,The pointed angles of each tower
Yet st i l l e nt i re th e Abbey stood
Like veteran, worn , but unsubdued.
Soon as they near’d h is turre ts strong,
The maidens raised Sai nt H i lda’s song ,And with the sea-wave and the wind ,Thei r vo ices , sweetly shri l l , combined.A nd made harmonious close
A}C> M A A’M /OM
Then , answering from th e sandy shore ,Half drown’d amid the breakers ’ roar ,According chorus roseDown to the haven of th e I sle
,
The monks and nuns i n order file ,F rom Cuthbert’s Cloi s ters grimBanner and cross , and rel i cs there ,To meet St . Hilda’s maids , they bare ;And , as they caugh t the sounds on air ,They echoed back th e hymn .
The is landers , i n j oyous mood ,Rush ’d emulously th rough the flood ,To hale the bark to land ;Conspicuous by her ve i l and hood ,Signi ng the cross , th e Abbess s tood ,And bless ’
d them w ith her hand .
?(I I .
Suppose we now the wel come said ,Suppose th e Convent banquet made
All through the holy dome ,Through Cl oi ste r , i s l e , and gal lery ,Wherever vesta l maid might pry ,Nor risk to meet unhallow’d eye ,The stranger sisters roamTil l fe l l the even ing damp wi th dew,
And th e sharp sea-breeze cold ly blew,
FOr there , even summer night is ch i l l .
Then , having stray’d and gazed the i r fill,
They closed around the fire s
42 M A A’
M ZON
XIV .
Nor d id S t . Cuthbert’s daughters failTo vi e wi th these i n holy tale ;His body’s res ti ng-place , of old ,How oft the i r patron changed
,they told ;
How , when the rude Dane burn'
d thei r p ile,
The monks fled forth from Holy I sl e ;O ’er northern mountai n , marsh , and moor ,From sea to sea , from shore to shore ,Seven years Sai nt Cuthbert ’s corpse they bore.They reste d them in fai r M elrose ;But though , al ive , he l oved i t wel l ,Not there h is re l i cs m igh t repose ;For , wondrous tale to te l l
In h is stone coffin forth he rides ,A ponderous bark for river t ides ,Yet l igh t as gossamer i t gl ides ,Downward to T ilmouth cell .
Nor long was h is abiding there ,For southward d id the saint repai r ;Chester-le-Street and R i ppon sawHis holy corpse , ere Wardilaw
Hail’d h im with j oy and fear
And , after many wanderings past ,He chose h is l ordly seat at las t
,
Where h is cath edral , huge and vast ,Looks down upon the \Vear :
There , deep i n Durham’s Goth ic shade ,
His rel i cs are i n secret laid
But none may know the p lace ,
fll A 181V 01V. 43
Save of h is hol i es t servants three ,Deep sworn to solemn secrecy
,
Who share that wondrous grace .
XV .
Who may h is miracl es declare
Even Scot land’s dauntless k i ng , and heir
(Although wit h them they lead
Galwegians , wi ld as ocean’s gal e ,
And London ’s kn igh ts , al l sheathed i n mail ,And the bold men of Teviotdale) ,Before h is standard fled .
’Twas he , to v i nd icate h is re ign ,Edged Al fred ’s fal ch ion on the Dane ,And turn’d the Conqueror back again ,When , wi th h is Norman bowyer band ,He came to waste Northumberland .
XVI .
But fai n Sai nt H i lda’s nuns would learn
I f, on a rock by Lind isfarne ,Saint Cuthbert s i ts , and to i l s to frame
The sea-born beads that bear h is name
Such tales had Whi tby’s fishers told
And said they migh t h is shape behold ,And hear h is anvi l sound
A deaden ’d clang—a huge dim form ,
Seen but , and heard , when gathering stormAnd nigh t were clos ing round .
44 M A A’
M I OZV.
But th is , as tal e of idl e fame ,The nuns of Lindisfarne disclaim .
XVII .
While round the fire such l egends go ,
Far different was the scene of woe,
Where , i n a secret ai s le beneath ,
Counci l was held of l i fe and death .
I t was more dark and lone , that vaul t,Then the worst dungeon cel l
O l d Colwulf bui l t it , for h is faul t ,In peni tence to dwel l ,
When he , for c owl and beads , laid downThe Saxon batt le-axe and crown .
This den , which , ch i l l i ng every sense
O f feel ing , hearing , s igh t ,Was call’d the Vaul t of Pen i tence ,Excludi ng ai r and l ight ,Was , by the prelate Sexhelm , madeA place of burial for such dead ,As , having d ied in mortal s i n ,M igh t not be laid the church with i n .
’Twas now a place of pun ishment ;Whence i f so loud a shriek were sent ,As reach’
d the upper ai r ,The hearers bless ’
d themselves , and said,The spiri ts o f the s i nful dead
Bemoan’d the i r torments there .
M A R M ]01V.
XVI I I .
But though , i n the monast i c p ile ,D i d of th is peni tential ais l e
Some vague trad i t ion go ,
Few only , save the Abbot , knew
Where th e place lay ; and s t i l l more fewWere those who had from h im the clewTo that dread vaul t to go .
V i ct im and execu tionerWere bli ndfold when transported there
I n low dark rounds the arches hung ,From the rude rock the s ide-wall s sprung ;The grave ~ stones , rudely sculptured o
’er ,Half sunk in earth , by time half wore ,Were al l the pavement of th e floor ;The mi ldew-drops fel l one by one ,With t i nkl ing plash , upon the stone .
A cresset , i n an iron chai n ,Wh ich served to l ight th i s drear domain ,With damp and darkness seem
’d to strive ,
As if i t scarce migh t keep al i ve ;And yet i t d imly served to show
The awful conclave met be low .
XIX .
There , met to doom in secrecy ,Were p laced th e heads of convents th ree
M A R M J OZV.
Al l servants of St . Bened ict ,The s tatutes of whose order s tri ct
O h i ron tab le lay ;I n long black dress , on seats of stone ,Beh ind were these th ree judges shownBy the pale cresset
’s ray
The Abbess of St . Hilda’s,there ,
Sat for a space wi th visage bare,
Unt i l , to h ide her bosom ’s swe l l,
And tear-drops that for p i ty fel l,
She closely drew her ve i l
Yon shrouded figure , as I guess ,By her proud m i en and flowing dress ,I s Tynemouth ’s haugh ty Prioress ,And she wi th awe looks pal e
And he , that Ancie nt M an , whose s igh t
Has l ong been quench’d by age ’s n igh t ,
Upon whose wrinkled brow alone ,Nor ruth , nor mercy
’s trace , i s sh own ,Whose l ook is hard and s tem
Saint Cuthbert ’s Abbot i s h i s styl e ;For sancti ty call’d , th rough the is l e ,The Sain t of Lind isfarne .
XX .
Before them stood a gu i l ty pai rBut , though an equal fate th ey share ,Yet one al one deserves our care ,Her sex a page’s dress bel ied ;
M A R M I OZV.
The cloak and doublet , l oosely t ied ,Obscured her charms , but coul d not h ide .
Her cap down o ’er her face she drew ;And , on her doublet breast ,She tried to h ide the badge of b lue ,Lord M armion ’s fal con cres t .
But , at th e Prioress’ command ,
A M onk undid th e s i lver band
That tied her tresses fai r ,And raised the bonnet from her head ,And down her splendid form they spread ,In ringlets rich and rare .
Constance de Beverley th ey know ,
S ister profess’d of Fontevraud,
Whom the church number’d with the dead,For broken vows , and convent fled .
XXI
When thus her face was given to v i ew
(Al though so pal l id was her hue ,I t d id a ghastly contras t bear
To those bright ringlets gl isteri ng fair) ,Her look composed , and steady eye ,Bespoke a match l ess constancyAnd there she stood so calm and pale ,That , but her b reath ing did not fai l ,And motion sl igh t of eye and head ,And of her bosom , warranted
48 M A R M I ON
That nei ther sense nor pulse sh e lacks,
You m igh t have thought a form of wax,
Wrought to the very l ife,was there ;
So s t i l l she was , so pal e , so fai r .
XXI I .
Her comrade was a sord id soul,
Such as does murder for a meed ;Who , but of fear , knows no control ,Because h i s consci ence , sear
’d and foul,
Feel s not th e import of h is deed ;One , whose brute-feel i ng ne
’er aspi res
Beyond h i s own more brute desi res .
Such tools the Tempter ever needs ,To do the savages t of deeds
For them no vis ioned terrors daunt ,Thei r n igh ts no fancied spectres haunt ,One fear wi th them , of al l most base ,The fear of death—alone finds place .This wre tch was clad in frock and cow],And shamed not loud to moan and howl ,His body on th e floo r to dash ,And crouch , l ike hound beneath th e lash ;"Whi l e h is mute partne r , s tanding near ,Waited her doom wi thou t a tear .
XXII I .
Yet wel l th e luckl ess wretch migh t sh riek ,Well migh t her paleness terror speak !
5 0 M A M H ON .
By s trange device were they brought there ,They knew not how , nor knew not where .
XXV .
And now that b l ind old Abbot rose,
To speak the Chapter’s doom,
On those th e wal l was to encl ose,
Al ive , with in the tomb ,But stopp
’
d , because that woeful M aid ,Gathering her powers , to speak essay
’
d .
Twice she essay’
d , and twice i n va i n ;Her accents m igh t no utterance gain ;Nough t but imperfect murmurs sl ip
From her convulsed and qu ivering l ip ;’Twixt each at tempt al l was so st i l l ,You seem ’
d to hear a distant ri l l’Twas ocean ’s swel l s and fal l s ;For though th is vaul t of s i n and fear
Was to the sound ing surge so near ,A tempest there you scarce could hear,So mass ive were the wal ls .
XXVI .
A t l ength , an effort sent apart
The b lood that curdled to her heart ,And l igh t came to her eye ,And color dawn ’
d upon her cheek ,A hecti c and a flutter’d s treak ,Like that le ft on th e Chevio t peak
By Autumn’s stormy sky ;
M A R M I OZV.
And when her s i lence broke at length ,St il l as she spoke sh e gather
’d s trength ,And arm’d hersel f to bear .
I t was a fearful s igh t to see
Such h igh reso lve and cons tancy ,In form so soft and fair .
XXV I I .
I speak not to implore your grace ;We l l know I , for one minute
’s space
Success less migh t I sue
Nor do I speak your prayers to gai n ;For i f a death of l i ngeri ng pai n ,To cleanse my s ins , be penance vain ,Vain are your masses too .
I l i sten’d to a tra i tor’ s tal e ,I l eft the convent and the ve i l ;For three long years I bow’
d my pride ,A horse-boy i n h i s trai n to rideAnd wel l my fol ly’s meed he gave ,Who forfei ted , to b e h i s slave ,All here , and al l beyond the grave .
He saw young Clara’s face more fair ,He knew her of broad lands the he i r ,Forgot h is vows , h is fai th forswore ,And Constance was beloved no more .
’Tis an old tal e , and often told ;But did my fate and wish agree ,
( 2 M A R M I O/V.
Ne’er had b een read , i n s tory ol d
Of maiden true be tray’d for gold ,
That loved , or was avenged , l ike me !
XXVI I I.
The King approved h is favori t e’s aim ;In vai n a rival barr’d h is claim ,
Whose fate wi th Clare’s was pl igh t,
For he attai nts that ri va l ’s fame
Wi th treason ’s charge and on they came,
In mortal l i s ts to fight .
Thei r oaths are said ,Thei r prayers are pray
’d ,
Thei r lances i n the rest are laid,
They meet i n mortal shock ;And
,hark ! th e th rong , with thundering cry,
Shout M arm ion , M armion ! to the sky ,De Wilton to the block
Say ye ,who preach Heaven shal l decide
When i n the l is ts two champions ride ,Say
,was Heaven ’s justi ce here !
When,l oyal i n h i s l ove and fai th ,
Wilton found overth row or death ,Beneath a trai tor’s spear
How fal se th e charge , how true h e fel l ,Th is gui l ty packet best can tel l .”
Then drew a packet from her breast ,P aused , gather
’d voice , and spoke the res t .
M A R M ]01V.
XXIX .
Sti l l was false M armion’s bridal stayed ;To Whitby ’s convent fled the maid ,The hated match to shun .
Ho sh ifts she thus ? King Henry cried ,Sir M armion , she shal l b e thy bride ,I f she we re sworn a nun .
One way remain ’d the K ing’s command
Sent M armion to th e Scott ish land ;I linger
’
d here , and rescue plann’
d
For Clara and for me
Th is caitifi" monk , for gold , d id swear,He would to Wh itby ’s shri ne repair ,And , by h is drugs , my rival fa i r
A sai nt i n heaven should be .
But i l l the dastard kept h is oath ,Whose cowardice has undone us both .
XXX.
And now my tongue th e secret tel ls ,Not that remorse my bosom swel ls ,But to assure my soul
.
that none
Shal l ever wed with M armion .
Had fortune my last hope betray’
d,
Th is packet , to th e Ki ng convey’d,
Had given h im to th e headsman’s s troke,Although my heart that i ns tant broke .
53
Now , men of death , work forth your wi ll ,For I can suffer , and be st i l l ;And come he s low , or come he fast ,I t i s but Death who comes at last .
XXX I .
Yet dread me , from my l iv i ng tomb ,Ye vassal s laves of bloody Rome !
I f M armion ’s late remorse should wake ,Ful l soon such vengeance wi l l h e take ,That you shal l w ish the fiery DaneHad rather been your guest again .
Beh ind , a darker hour ascends '
The al tars quake , th e cros ier bends ,The ire of a despot i c K ing
R ides'
forth upon destruction ’s wing
Then shal l t hese vaul ts , so s trong and deep,Burst open to the sea-wi nd ’s sweep ;Some travel l er then shal l find my bonesWhiten ing am i d d i sjo in ted stones ,And , ignorant of pri ests
’ cruel ty ,M arve l such re l i cs here should be .
”
XXXI I .
F ix’d was her l ook , and stem her
Back from her shoulders s tream '
d
The locks , that won t her brow toStared up erect ly from her head ;
M A R M I OZV.
Her figure seem ’d t o rise more h igh ;Her voice , despair
’s wi ld energyHad given a tone of prophecy
A ppall’
d t h e astonish’
d conclave sate ;With stupid eyes , the men of fate
Gazed on the l ight i nspired form ,
And l i sten’d for th e avenging storm ;The judges fel t the vi ct im ’s dread ;No hand was moved , no word was said ,Til l t hus the Abbot ’s doom was given ,Rais ing h i s s ight less bal l s to heaven
Sister , l e t thy sorrows cease ;Sinful brother , part i n peace
From that dire dungeon , place of doom,
O f execut i on too , and tomb ,Paced forth th e judges th ree
Sorrow i t were , and shame . to tell
The butcher-work that th ere befel l ,When they had gl ided from the cel l
Of s in and misery .
XXXII I .
A n hundred winding steps convey
That conclave t o th e upper day ;But , ere they breath ed th e fresher air,They heard the shri ek ings of despai r
,
A nd many a stifled groan
W i th speed thei r upward way th ey take
55
M A R M I OZV.
(Such speed as age and fear can make) ,And cross ’
d themselves for terror l s sake
As hurrying , tot teri ng onEven i n the vesper’s heaven ly tone
They seem’d t o hear a dying groan
,
And bade the pass i ng knel l to tol l
For wel fare of a parti ng soul .S low o ’e r th e midnight wave i t swung
,
Northumbrian rocks i n answer rung ;To Warkworth cel l the ech oes roll ‘d ,
His beads th e wakeful h ermi t told ,The Bamborough peasant ra ised h is head,But s lept ere hal f a prayer he sa id ;So far was heard the mighty knel l ,The stag sprung up on Chev i ot Fel l ,Spread h is broad nostri l to th e wind ,Listened before , aside , beh ind ,Then crouch’d h im down bes ide th e h ind,And quaked among the mountai n fern ,To hear that sound so dul l and stem .
58 M A R M I ON .
I I .
No summons cal ls them to the tower ,To spend the hospi tab l e hour .
To Scotland ’s camp the Lord was gone ;His cautious dame , i n bower alone ,Dreaded her castle to unclose
,
So late , to unknown fri ends or foes .
O h through the ham l e t as they paced,
Before a porch , whose front was gracedWith bush and flagon t rimly placed ,Lord M armion drew h is re i n
The vi l lage inn seem’d large , though rude ;
I ts cheerful fire and hearty food
M igh t wel l relieve h is trai n .
Down from the i r seats th e horsemen sprung,With j ingl ing spurs the court-yard rung ;They b ind the horses to th e stal l ,For forage , food , and firing cal l ,And various clamor fills th e hal l
Weigh ing the labor wi th th e cost ,Toi ls everywhere the bustl i ng host .
I I I .
Soon , by th e ch imney’s merry blaze ,
Through the rude h oste l m igh t you gaze ,M igh t see , where in dark nook aloof,The rafters of th e sooty roofBore weal th of winter cheer
M A R M I OZV.
Of sea-fowl dried , and solands store ,And gammons of th e tusky boar ,And savory haunch of deer .
The ch imney arch proj ected wide ;Above , around it , and bes ide ,Were too ls for housewi fe ’s hand ;Nor wanted , i n that mart ial day ,The implements of Scott ish fray
,
The buck l er , lance , and brand .
Beneath i ts shade , th e place of state ,O h oaken sett l e M arm i on sate ,And view’d around the b lazing hearthHis fol lowers mix i n noisy mirth
Whom with brown al e , i n j ol ly tide ,From ancien t vesse ls ranged as ide ,Ful l act i ve ly thei r host suppl ied .
Theirs was th e gle e of martial b reast ,And laughter th ei rs at l i t t l e j es t ;And oft Lord M armion deign
’
d to aid ,And mingle i n the mirth th ey made ;For though , with men of h igh degree ,The proudest of th e proud was he ,Yet , train’d i n camps , he knew the art
To win th e sold ier’s hardy h eart .
They l ove a captai n to obey ,Boisterous as M arch , yet fresh as M ay ;
59
60 M A R M I OZV.
With open hand , and b row as free ,Lover of wine and mins trelsy ;Ever th e first to scal e a tower ,As venturous i n a lady ’s bower
Such buxom ch ief shal l l ead h is hostF rom I ndia’s fires to Z embla’
s frost .
V
Rest i ng upon h is pi lgrim stafi'
,
R igh t Opposi te the Palmer s tood ;His th in dark v isage seen but hal f,Hal f h idde n by h i s hood .
St i l l fixed on M armion was h is l ook
Which he , who i l l such gaze could brook ,Strove by a frown to quel lBut um for that , though more than once
Ful l met the i r s tern encounteri ng glance ,The Palmer’s v isage fel l .
VI .
By fits l ess frequen t from th e crowd
Was h eard the burs t o f laughter loud ;For sti l l as squi re and archer stared
O n that dark face and matted beard ,Their glee and game decl i ned .
Al l gazed at l ength i n s i l ence drear ,Unbroke , save when i n comrade’s ear
Some yeoman , wondering i n h is fear ,Thus whisper
’d forth h is mind
M A [CM I OM 6 1
Sai n t M ary ! saw’
st thou e ’er such s ight ?
How pale h is cheek , h i s eye how bright ,Whene’er the firebrand’
s fickle l igh t
Glances beneath h i s cowl !
Ful l on our Lord he se ts h is eye ;For h is bes t pal frey , would not I
Endure that sul len scowl .”
But M armion , as to chase th e awe
Which thus had quell’
d the i r hearts , who saw
The ever-varying fire-l igh t show
That figure stern and face of woe ,Now call
’d upon a squ ire
Fit z-Eustace , know‘
s t thou not some lay ,To speed the l ingeri ng nigh t away P
We s lumber by the fire
VI I I .
So please you ,” thus the youth rejoin
’
d ,
Our cho i ces t m i nstre l ’s left behi nd .
I l l may we hope to please your ear,
A ccustom’d Constan t’s s trai ns to hear .
The harp ful l deft ly can he s trike ,And wake the l over’s lute al ike ;To dear Saint Valent i ne , no thrushS ings l ive l ier from a spring-t ide bush ,
M A 18111 101V.
No night ingal e her love-l orn tune
M ore sweet ly warbles to the moon .
Woe to the cause , whate’er i t be ,Detai ns from us h is melody ,Lavish
‘
d on rocks , on bi l lows s ternO r dul ler monks of Lind isfarne .
Now must I venture , as I may ,TO s ing h is favori te roundelay .
A mel low voice F itz -Eustace had
The ai r h e chose was wi ld and sad ;Such have I heard , i n Scottl Sh l and ,R i se from the busy harves t band ,When fal ls be fore the mountaineer ,O n Lowland plains , th e ripen
’
d ear .
Now one shri l l voi ce the no tes pro long ,Now a wi ld chorus swel ls th e song
O ft have I l i s ten ’
d and stood sti l l ,As i t came soften ’
d up th e h i l l ,And deem ‘
d i t th e lament of menWho languish
’
d fo r thei r native glen
And though t how sad would be such sound
O n Susquehanna’s swampy ground ,Kentucky’s wood -encumber’d brake ,O r wi ld Ontario ’s boundless lake ,Where heart-s i ck exi l es , i n the st rai n ,R ecall
’d fair Sco tland’s h i l l s again '
M A EM I 01V.
SON G .
Where shal l the lover rest,Whom the fat es sever
From h is true maiden ’s b reast,Parted forever?
Where , th rough groves deep and
Sounds th e far b i l low ,
Where early violets d i e ,Under th e wi l l ow .
CHOR US .
Elm 107 0, e tc . Soft shal l be his p illow.
There , th rough the summer day,Cool s treams are lavi ng ;
There , whi l e th e tempests sway ,Scarce are boughs waving ;
There , thy res t shal t thou take ,Parted forever ,
Never aga i n to wake ,Never , 0 never '
CHORUS .
Elm Zora, etc . Never , 0 never !
M A R M ]01V.
I ( I .
Where shal l the t rai tor rest ,He , the dece iver ,Who could wi n maiden’s breast,Ruin , and leave her ?
I n the los t bat tl e ,Borne down by the flying
,
Where m ingles war’s ratt l e
W i th groans of the dying .
CHOR US .
E lm Zora , etc . There shal l he be ly ing .
Her wing shal l the eagl e flapO ’er the false-hearted
H is warm blood the wol f shal l
E ’er l i fe be parted .
Shame and dis honor sitBy h is grave ever ,Bless ing shal l
'
hal low itNever , 0 never !
CHORUS .
E leu Zora, e tc . Never , 0 never !
J( I I .
I t ceased , the melancholy sound ;And s i l ence sunk on al l around .
66 M A JeM l ozv.
Such as i n nunneri es they tol l
For some depart ing sister ‘ s soul ?Say , what may th is portend ?”
Then first th e Palmer si lence broke
(The l ivelong day he had not spoke) ,The death of a dear fri end .
”
XI V .
M armion , whose steady heart and eyeNe ’er changed i n worst extremity ;M armion whose soul could scantly b rook ,Even from h is K ing , a haugh ty look ;Whose accent of command controll’d,
I n camps , th e boldest of th e boldThought , l ook , and ut terance fail
’
d h im now ,
Fall’n was h is glance , and flush
’
d h is brow ;For e ith er i n the tone ,
O r someth ing i n th e Palmer’s look ,So ful l upon h i s conscience s trook ,That answer he found none .
Thus oft i t haps , that when with i n
They sh ri nk at sense of secret s in ,A feather daunts th e brave ;
A fool ’s wi ld speech confounds the wise ,And proudest pri nces vei l the ir eyes
Before thei r meanest slave .
xv .
Wel l migh t he fal ter By h is aidWas Constance Beverl ey betray
’
d .
Not that h e augur’d of th e doom
Which on th e l iv ing cl osed the tomb
But , t i red to hear th e desperate maid
Threaten by turns , beseech , upbraid ;And wroth , because , i n w i l d despair ,She pract i sed on the l ife of Clare ;I ts fugi t i ve th e Church he gave ,Though not a v ict im , bu t a s lave
And deem ’
d res trai n t i n convent strange
Would hide her wrongs , and'
her revenge .
Himself, proud Henry‘ s favori te peer ,
Held Romish thunders idl e fear ,Secure h is pardon he might hold ,For some sl igh t mulct o f penance-gold .
Thus judgi ng , he gave secret way ,When the stern pri ests surprised th ei r prey.His trai n but deem’
d th e favori te page
Was l eft beh ind , t o spare h i s age ;O r other i f th ey deem ’
d , none dared
To mutter what h e thought and heard
Woe to th e vassal who durs t pry
I nto Lord M arm ion’s privacy
XVI
H is consci ence sl ept h e deem’d her well ,And safe secured i n di stan t cel l
But waken’d by her favorit e lay ,And that strange Palmer’s boding say ,
68 M A R M I OZV.
That fel l s o ominous and drear ,Ful l on th e obj ect of h is fear ,To aid remorse ’s venom ’
d throes ,Dark tal es of convent-vengeance rose
And Constance , l ate betray’d and scorn’d,
Al l lovely on his soul return’d ;
Lovely as when , at treacherous cal l ,She left h er convent’s peaceful wal l ,Crimson
’d wi th shame , with terror mute,
D reading al ike es cape , pursui t ,Ti l l l ove , vi ctori ous o
’e r alarms ,H id fears and blushes i n h is arms .
XVI I .
Alas he thought , how changed that mien!How changed th ese t imid l ooks have been ,Since years of gui l t , and of d isguise ,Have s tee l ’d her brow , and arm
’d her eyes !
No more of v i rgi n terror speaksThe blood that mantl es in h er cheeks
F i erce,and un feminine , are there ,
Frenzy for j oy , for gri ef despai r ;And I th e cause—for whom were given
Her peace on earth , her h opes i n heaven !
Would ,” thought he , as th e pi cture grows ,I on its s talk had l eft th e rose
Oh , why shou ld man’s success remove
The very charms that wake his love '
MA R M I OZV.
Her convent ’s peaceful sol i tudeI s now a pri son harsh and rude ,And
,pent wi th in th e narrow cel l ,
How wi l l her spi ri t chafe and swel l
How brook the stern monast i c lawsThe penance how—and I the cause !V igi l and scourge perchance even worseAnd twice h e rose to cry , To horseAnd twi ce h is Sovereign ’s mandate came ,Like damp upon a kindl ing flame ;And twice he thought , Gave I not chargeShe should be safe , though not at large ?They durs t not , for thei r i s land , shred
One golden ringlet from her head .
”
XVI I I .
While thus in M armion ’s bosom stroveRepentance and re vi vi ng love
,
Like whirlwi nds , whose contending sway
I ’ve seen Loch V ennachar obey ,Their Host th e Palmer’s speech had heardAnd talkat ive , took up the wordAy, reverend Pilgrim , you , who stray
From Scotland ’s s impl e land away ,To vis i t realms afar ,Ful l often l earn the art to know
O f future weal , or future woe ,By word , or s ign , or s tar
M A [6M ]01V.
Yet might a knigh t h i s fortune hear,
I f, knight-l i ke , he desp ises fear ,Not far from hence i f fath ers ol dArigh t our hamle t legend told .
”
These broken words the menial s move
(For marvels st i l l th e vulgar l ove) ,And , M armion givi ng l i cense cold ,His tale the host thus gladly told
xxx .
THE Hosr’s TA LE .
A Clerk could tel l what years had flownSince Alexander fi ll’d our throne
(Third monarch of that warl ik e name) ,And eke the t ime when here he came
To seek Si r Hugo , th en our lord
A braver never drew a sword ;A w i ser never , at th e hour
Oi m i dnigh t , spoke th e word o f power
The same , whom ancient records cal l
The founder of th e Gobl i n -Hal l .
I would , Si r Knight , your l onger s tay
Gave you that cavern to survey .
O i l ofty roof, and ampl e s i ze ,Beneath the cas tl e deep i t l i esTo hew the l i vi ng rock profound ,
The floor to pave , the arch to round ,
M A 18
17]1 01V.
There never toil ’d a mortal arm
I t al l was wrought by word and charm ;And I have heard my grandsi re say ,That t he wi ld clamor and atTray
Of those dread art i sans of h e l l ,Who labor’d under Hugo’s spel l ,Sounded as l oud as ocean ’s war ,Among the caverns of Dunbar.
The King Lord Giii ord’s castl e sough t
,
Deep laboring wi th uncertai n t hough t ;Even then he muster
’d al l h is host ,To meet upon the western coast ;For Norse and Danish gal l eys pl ied
Their oars wi th i n th e fri th of Clyde .
There floated Haco’
s banner trim ,
Above Norweyan warri ors grim ,
Savage of heart , and large of l imb ;Threatening both conti n ent and isl e ,Bute , Arran , Cunninghame , and Kyle .
Lord GiiTord , deep beneath th e ground
Heard Alexander’s bugl e sound ,And tarried not h is garb to change ,But , i n his wizard hab i t st range ,Came forth a quaint and fearful s ight ;His mantl e l i ned wi th fox-sk ins wh i te ;His h igh and wrinkled forehead bore
7 2 M A RM I OM
A pointed cap , such as of yoreClerks say that Pharaoh ’s M agi wore
His shoes were mark’d wi th cross and
Upon h is breast a pentacl e ;His zone , of vi rgi n parchment th i n ,O r, as some tel l , of dead man
’s skin ,Bore many a planetary s ign ,Combust , and retrograde , and tri ne ;And in h is hand h e held prepared
A naked sword wi thout a guard .
XXI .
Di re deal i ngs wi t h th e fiendish raceHad mark
’d s trange l i nes upon h is facV igi l and fast had worn h im grim ,
H is eyesight dazzled seem ’d and dim ,
As one unused to upper day ;E ven h i s own men ials wi t h d ismay
B eheld , Sir Knight , th e grisly S ire ,I n h is unwonted wi l d atti re ;U nwonted , for tradi t i ons run ,H e seldom thus beheld th e sun .
‘ I know ,
’ he said h is voi ce was hoarse ,A nd broken seem ’d i ts hol low force‘ I know the cause , al though untold ,Why th e King seek s h i s vassal
’s hold
V ain ly from me my l i ege would know
H is kingdom ’s future weal or woe ;
74 M A R M I O/V.
H is bearing bold th e wizard view’d
And thus , wel l pleased , h is speech renew’
d
There spoke th e b lood of M alcolm -markForth paci ng h ence , a t midnigh t dark ,The rampart seek , whose circl i ng crown
Crests the ascent of yonder down
A southern entrance shal t thou find ;There hal t , and there thy bugle wind
And trust th i ne e lfin foe to see ,I n gu ise of thy wors t enemy ;Couch then thy lance , and spur thy steed
Upon him and Saint George to speed !I f he go down , thou soon shal t know
Whate ’e r these a i ry spri tes can show
I f thy h eart fai l th ee i n th e stri fe ,I am no warrant for thy l i fe .
’
XXI I I .
Soon as the m idn igh t bel l d id ring ,Alone
,and arm ’d , forth rode the K ing
To that old camp’s deserted round :
Si r Knigh t , you wel l m ight mark the mound ,Left hand the town—the P ict ish race ,The trench , l ong s ince , i n bl ood d id trace ;The moor around is brown and bare ,The space wi th i n i s green and fa ir .
The spot our vi l lage ch i ldren know,
For there the earl i es t wi ld-flowers grow ;
M A I N LI I OJV.
But woe bet ide th e wandering Wigh tThat treads i ts circl e i n the n igh t !
The breadth across , a bowshot cl ear ,Gives ampl e space for ful l career ;Opposed to the four po ints of heaver
By four deep gaps are en trance giver
The southernmost our M onarch past,
Hal ted , and bl ew a gal l an t b las t ;And on the north , wi th i n the ring ,A ppear
’d th e form of England’s K ing ,
Who then , a thousand l eagu es afar ,In Palest in e waged holy war
Yet arms l ike England ’s d id he wi el d
Al ik e th e leopards l n th e sh ie ld ,Al ike h is Syrian courser’s frame ,The rider’s length of l imb the same
Long afterwards did Scotland know ,
Fell Edward was her deadl ies t foe.
XXIV .
The v i s i on made our M onarch start ,But soon he mann ’d h is nobl e heart ,And in the first career they ran ,The E lfin Knigh t fel l , horse and man ;Yet did a spl i nter of h i s lance
Through Alexander’s v i sor glance ,And razed the sk in—a puny wound .
The K ing , l igh t l eap ing to th e ground ,
75
76 M A R M /O/V
Wi th nake zl blade h is phantom foeCompel l
’
d the future war to show .
O f Largs he saw the glorious plain ,Where st i l l gigant ic bones remain
,
M emoria l of the Danish war ;Himsel f h e saw , amid the fie ld ,
O h high h is brandish’
d war-axe wield,
And strike proud Haco from his car,
While al l around the shadowy K ings
Denmark ’s grim ravens cower’d thei r wings .’Tis said , that , i n that awful n igh t ,Remoter v is ions me t h is s igh t ,Foreshowing future conquests far ,When our sons’ sons wage. northern war ;A royal ci ty , tower and sp i re
R edden’
d the m idnight sky wi th fire ,And sh out ing crews her navy bore ,Triumphant , to the vi ctor shore .
Such signs may learned cl erks explain ,
They pass th e wi t o f simple swain .
XXV .
The joy ful K i ng turned home again ,Headed h is host , and que ll
'
d th e Dane ;But yearly , when return
’d th e n igh t
O f h is s trange combat wi th the spri te ,
His wound must b leed and smart
Lord Gifi’
ord then would gibing say ,
M A l fi/II I OZV.
Bold as ye were , my l iege , ye pay
The penance of your start .
Long s ince , beneath Dunferml ine s nave ,King Alexander fills h is grave ,Our Lady g
G i ve h im rest !
Yet st i l l the knigh tly spear and sh ie l d
The E lfin warrior do th wield ,Upon the brown h i l l ’s b reast ;
And many a knigh t hath proved h is chance ,In the charm ’
d r ing to break a lance ,But al l have fou l ly sped ;Save two , as l egends te l l , and they
Were Wal lace Wigh t , and Gilbert Hay .
Gentl es , my tal e i s said .
XXVI .
The quaighs were deep , th e l i quor s trong,And on the tal e the yeoman-th rong
Had made a comment sage and long ,But M arm ion gave a s ign
And , wi th their l ord , th e squ ires ret i re ;The res t , around the hoste l fire ,Their drowsy l imbs recl i ne
For pi l low , underneath each head ,The quive r and the targe were laid .
Deep slumbering on the hoste l floor ,Oppress
’d w ith to i l and ale , they snore
The dying flame,i n fitful change
,
Threw on the group its s hadows strange .
78 M A R M I ON .
XXVI I .
Apart,and nestl ing i n the hay
O f a waste loft , F itz -Eustace lay ;Scarce , by the pale moon l igh t , were seat .The foldi ngs of h is mantle green
Ligh tly h e dreamt , as youth wi l l dream ,
O f sport by th icke t or by stream .
Of hawk or hound , of ring or glove ,Or , l igh ter yet , of lady
’s love .
A cautious tread h is slumber broke ,And , close bes ide h im , when he woke ,I n moonbeam hal f, and hal f i n gloom ,
Stood a tal l form ,
’
w i th nodd ing plume ;But , ere h is dagger Eustace drew ,
His master M armion ’s voice he knew .
XXVII I .
Fitz -Eus tace ! r ise , I cannot rest ;Yo n churl ’s w i ld legend haunts my breast ,And graver though ts have chafed my mood
The ai r must coo l my feverish blood ;And fai n would I ride fo rth , to see
The scene of Elfin ch ivalry .
Arise , and saddle me my steedAnd , gentl e Eus tace , take good heedThou dos t not rouse these drowsy slaves
I would not , that th e prating knaves
M A R M ]01V.
Had cause for sayi ng , o’er th ei r ale ,
That I could cred i t such a tal e .
”
Then softly down the steps they s l id ,”ustace th e s table door und id ,And , dark l ing , M armi on
’s s teed array’d,
Wh i le , wh ispering , thus th e Baron said
XXIX .
D id ’s t never , good my youth , hear te l l ,That on the hour when I was born ,
S aint George , who graced my s i re’s chape l le,
D own from h is s teed of marb le fel l ,A weary wigh t forlorn ?
The flatteri ng chaplains al l agree ,The champion left h i s s teed to me .I would , th e omen
’s truth to show ,
That I could meet th is B lfin Foe !
Bl i th e would I battl e , for th e righ tTo ask one quest ion at the spri te
Vain though t ! for e l ves , i f el ves th ere be ,A n empty race , by foun t or sea ,To dash ing waters dance and sing ,O r round th e green oak whee l thei r ring .
T hus speak ing , h e h is s teed bestrode ,And from th e hos te l s lowly rode .
XXX .
F i t z-Eustace follow’d h im abroad ,A nd mark’d h im pace the v i l lage road ,
79
8 0 M A R M I ON
And l is ten ’d to h is h orse’s tramp ,Ti l l , by th e l essen ing sound ,
He judged that of the Pict ish camp
Lord M armion sough t th e round .
Wonder i t seem ”
d , i n the squire‘ s eyes
,
That one , so wary he ld , and wiseO i whom
!‘ twas said , he scarce rece ived
For gospe l , what the Church bel ieved
Should , stirr’
d by id le tale ,R ide forth i n s i l ence of the night ,As hopi ng hal f to meet a spri te ,A rray
'
d i n plate and mai l .
For l i t tl e d id F i t z-Eustace know ,
That pass ions , i n contending flow ,
Unfix th e s trongest m ind ;Wearied from doubt to doubt to flee ,We welcome fond credul i ty ,Guide confiden t, though bl ind .
XXXI .
Li ttl e for th is F i t z-Eustace cared
But,pat i ent
,wai ted t i l l h e heard ,
A t d is tance , prick’d to utmost speed ,
The foot-tramp of a flying steed ,Come town—ward rush ing on ;F i rs t
,dead
,as i f on turf i t t rode ,
Then , clattering on th e vi l lage road
In other pace than forth he yode ,R eturn
’d Lord M armion .
8 2 M A R M'
I ON .
CANTO FOURTH .
THE CAM P .
A .
EUSTACE , I said , d id bl i th ely mark
The first notes of the merry lark .
The lark sang sh ri l l , th e cock h e crew ,
And loud ly M armion ’s bugl es b lew ,
And with the i r l igh t and l ive ly cal l
Brough t groom and yeoman to th e stall .
Whistl ing they came , and free of h ear t ,But soon the ir mood was changed ;
Complaint was heard on every part ,O i someth ing d isarranged .
Some c lamor’
d l oud for armor lost ;Some brawl
‘
d and wrangl ed w ith the host ;By Becket
’s bones ,” cri ed one , I fear
That some false Scot has s tolen my spear l
Young Blount , Lord M armion’s second squ i re
,
Found h is s teed wet wi th sweat and m ire ;Although the rated horse-boy sware ,Last night h e dress ’
d h im sleek and fai r .
While chafed the impati ent s quire l ik e thunder ,O l d Hubert shouts , i n fear and wonder
M A R M /ON G ;
Help , gentl e Blount !help , comrades all !
Bevis l ies dying i n h i s s tal l ;T o M armion who the pl igh t dare tel l ,O f the good s teed he loves so wel l ?Gapi ng for fear and ruth , they saw
The charger panti ng on h is straw
Ti l l one , who would seem wisest , cried
What else but evi l could be t ide ,With that cursed Palmer for our gui deBetter we had through mi re and bush
B een lantern-l ed by Friar Rush .
”
11 .
Fi tz-Eustace , who the cause but guess’d
,
Nor whol ly unders tood ,His comrades” clamorous plai nts suppress
’d
He knew Lord M armion’s mood .
Him , ere he i ssued forth , he sough t
And found deep plunged i n gloomy thought,And did hi s tale d isplay
S imply , as i f he knew of noughtTo cause su ch disarray.
Lord M armion gave atten tion cold ,Nor marve ll
’d at the wonders told
P ass’
d them as acci den ts o f course ,And bade h is clario ns sound to horse .
111.
Young Henry Bloun t , meanwh i le , the costHad reckon’d with th e ir Scot tish hos t ;
84 M A R M I ON .
And , as th e charge he cast and paid ,I l l thou dese rv’
s t thy h i re , ” he saidDost see ,
"
thou knave , my horse‘ s pl ight
Fairies have ridden h im al l the night,
And left h im i n a foam !I trus t that soon a conjuring band
,
With Engl i sh cross and blaz ing brand,
Shal l drive the devi ls from thi s land ,To the i r i nfe rnal h ome :For i n th is haunted den
,I trow
,
All night they trample to and fro .
The laugh ing host look’
d on the h ireGramercy
,gentl e southern squire
,
And i f thou comest among the rest ,With Scott i sh broadsword to be blest,Sharp be th e brand , and sure th e blow,
And short the pang to undergo .
”
Here stay’
d thei r talk for M armion
Gave now the s ignal to se t oh .
The Palme r showing forth th e way ,They journey
’
d al l th e morning day .
The greensward way was smooth and good ,
Through Humbie’
s and th rough Sal toun ’
s WOOL
A forest glade , which , vary i ng st i l l ,Here gave a vi ew of dale and h il l,There narrower cl osed , t i l l , overhead ,A vaulted screen the branches made .
111 14 16111 101“ 85
A pleasant path ,” Fitz -Eustace said ;
Such as where errant-knights m ight see
Adventures of h igh ch i val ry ;M igh t meet some damse l flying fast ,With hai r unbound and looks aghast ;And smooth and level cours e were here ,I n her defence to break a spear .
Here,too
,are t wil ight nooks and del ls ;
And oft,i n such , the s tory tel l s ,
The damsel kind,from danger freed ,
Did grateful pay her Champion ’s meed .
He spoke to cheer Lord M armion ’s mind
Perchance to show his lore design’d ;
For Eus tace much had pored
Upon a huge romanti c tome ,I n the hal l-window of hi s home ,Impri nted at the ant ique dome
O i Caxton , or De Worde .
Therefore he spoke but spok e in vain ,For M armion answer
'
d nought again .
V .
Now sudden , distant trumpets shri l l ,I n notes pro long
’d by wood and h i l l ,
Were heard to echo far ;Each ready archer grasp
’
d h is bow,
But by the flourish soon they know
They b reathed no point of war .Yet cautious , as i n foeman
’s land,
86 M A A’M /ON .
Lord M armion ’s order speeds the band ,Some opener ground to gain ;And scarce a furlong had they rode ,When thi nner t rees , reced ing , show
’d
A l i t tl e woodland plai n .
Just i n that advantageous glade ,The ha l t i ng troop a l ine had made ,As forth from the opposing shade
I ssued a gal lant trai n .
v1 .
F i rs t came the trumpets , at whose clangSo late th e forest echoes rang
O n prancing steeds they forward press’d ,
With scarle t mantle,azure vest
Each at h is trump a banner wore ,Which S cot land ’s roya l scu tcheon bore
Herald s and pursu i vants , by name
Bute , l s lay , M archmoun t , Rothsay , came
I n painted tabards , proudly showing
Gules , Argent , O r, and Azure glowing ,
Attendant on a K ing-at-arms ,Whose hand the armorial t runcheon he ld
That feudal s tri fe had often que ll’
d ,
When wi ldest i ts alarms .
VI I .
He was a man of middl e age ;In aspect manly , grave , and sage ,As on King’s errand come ;
8 8 M A 16M /ON .
VI I I .
Down from h is horse did M armion spring,
Soon as he saw th e Lion-King ;For wel l the stately Baron knew
To h im such courtesy was due ,Whom Royal James h imsel f had crown’d,
And on h is temples p laced the round
O i Scotland’
s ancient d iadem
And wet h is b row with hal low ’d wine ,And on hi s finger given to sh ine
The emblemati c gem .
Their mutual greetings duly made ,The Lion thus h is message said
Though Scotland ’s K ing hath deeply swore
Ne’er to kn i t fai th with Henry more ,And strictly hath forbid resort
From England to h is royal court ;Yet , for he knows Lord M arm i on
’s name ,And honors much h is warl ik e fame ,M y l i ege hath deem
’
d i t shame , and lack
Of courtesy , to turn h im back ;And , by h i s order , I , your guide ,M ust lodgi ng fi t and fai r provide
Ti l l finds King James meet t ime to see
The flower o f Engl i sh ch ival ry .
”
IX .
Though i nly chafed at th is delay ,Lord M armion bears i t as h e may .
M A R M ]01V.
The Palmer , h is mysterious guide ,
Beholding thus h is place suppl ied,
Sough t to take leave i n vai n ;Stri ct was the Lion King
’s command ,That none , who rode i n M armion
’s band ,Should sever from the t rai n :
England has here enow of spies
I n ~ lady Heron’s Wi tch ing eyes
To M archmount thus , apart , he said ,But fai r pretext to M armion made .
The righ t-hand path th ey now decl i ne ,And trace against the stream the Tyne .
X .
A t l ength up that wi ld dal e th ey wi nd ,Where Crichtoun Castl e crowns the bank ;For there the Lion’s care assign
’d
A lodging meet for M armi on’ s rank .
That Cast l e rises on the s teep
O f th e green vale of Tyne :
And far beneath , where slow they creep ,From pool to eddy , dark and deep ,
Where alders moist , and wi l l ows weep ,You hear her streams rep ine .
The towers i n different ages rose ;Thei r various arch i tecture shows
The bui lders ’ vari ous hands
A mighty mass that could oppose ,
When deadl ies t hatred fired i ts foes ,The vengeful Douglas bands .
90 M A A’
M /ON .
Crichtoun ! th ough now thy mi ry court
But pens th e lazy steer and sheep ,Thy turrets rude , and totter
’d Keep ,Have been th e minstre l ’s loved resort .
Oft have I traced , with in thy fort ,O i mouldering sh ields the myst ic sense ,Scutch eons of honor , or pretence ,
Quarter’
d i n old armorial sort ,Remains of rude magn ificence .
Nor whol ly ye t had time defaced
Thy lordly gal l ery fair ;Nor yet th e stony Cord unbraced ,
Whose twisted knots , w i th roses laced ,Adorn thy ruin
’
d stai r .
Sti l l rises un impair’
d below ,
The court-yard ’s gracefu l port ico ;Above i ts cornice , row and row
O i fai r h ewn facets ri ch ly show
Their po inted d iamond form ,
Though there but housel ess cattl e go
To sh ie ld them from the storm .
And , shudderi ng , s t i l l may we explore ,Where oft wh i lom were captives pent ,The darkness of thy M assy M ore ;O r , from thy grass-grown battl ement ,
M ay t race , i n undulat ing l ine ,The s luggi sh mazes of the Tyne .
M A leM I ON 9 1
Ji I I .
Another aspect Crichtoun show’d ,As through i ts portal M armion rode ;But yet ’twas melancholy state
Recei ved him at th e outer gate ;For none were i n the castl e thenBut women , boys , or aged men .
With eyes scarce dried,th e sorrowing dame ,
To welcome nob le M arm ion , cam
Her son , a stri pl i ng twe lve years old ,P rofi
'
er’
d the Baron’s rei n to hold ;For each man that could draw a
'
sword
Had march’
d that morn ing wi th the i r l ord ,Earl Adam Hepburn , he who died
O h Flodden , by h is sovereign’s s ide .
Long may h is Lady 3-3ok i n vai n '
She ne’er shal l see h is gal lant trai n
Come sweep i ng back th rough Crichtoun-Dean .
’Twas a brave race , before th e name
0’nated Bothwel l stain’d th ei r fame .
I (I I I .
And here two days did M armion rest ,Wi th every ri te that honor claims ,
Attended as th e K ing’s own gues t
Such the command of Royal James ,Who marshall
’d then h is land ’s array ,Upo n the Borough-moor that lay .
Perc hance he wou ld not foeman ’s eye
Upu .1 h i s gatheri ng host shou ld pry ,
92 M A A’M I OM
Til l ful l prepared was every band
To march agains t the Engl ish land .
Here wh i le they dwel t , did Lindesay’
s wit
O ft cheer the Baron’s moodier fit ;And , i n his turn , he knew to pri ze
Lord M armion ’s powerful mind , and wise
Train’
d i n the l ore of Rome and Greece,
And pol i cies of war and peace .
XIV .
I t chanced , as fel l th e second nigh t ,That on the battl ements they walk’d ,
And , by the s low ly fading l igh t ,O i varying topics talk ’d ;And , unaware , the Herald-bard
Said , M armion m igh t h is toi l have spared ,In travel l ing so far ;
For that a messenger from heaven
In vai n to James had counse l given
Agains t th e Engl i sh war ;And , cl oser question
’d , thus he told
A tal e , wh ich ch ronicl es of old
I n Scotti sh s tory have enroll’d :
xv .
S I R DA VID LI N D ESA Y’S TA LE.
Of al l the palaces so fai r ,Bui l t for the royal dwel l ing ,In Scot land , far beyond compareLinl i thgow
_ is exce l l i ng ;
[ll A lM l /O/V
And i n i ts park in j ovial June,
How sweet t he merry l i nnet ’s tune,
How bl i th e the blackbi rd ’s lay !The wi ld buck be l l s from ferny brake
,
The coot d ives merry on the lake,
The saddes t heart m igh t pleasure take
To see al l nature gay .
But June i s to our sovere ign dearThe h eavies t month i n al l th e year
Too wel l h i s cause of grief you know ,
June saw hi s father’s overth row.
Woe to the trai tors , who could bring
The princely boy agains t h is K ing !
Sti l l i n h is consci ence burns th e s ting .
I n offices as stric t as Lent ,King James ’s June i s ever spent .
XVI .
93
When las t th i s ruthful month was come .And i n Linlithgow
’s holy dome
The K ing , as wont , was praying ;Whi l e , for h is royal father
’s soul,
The chanters sung ,
‘
the bel ls d id to l l ,The Bishop mass was sayi ngFor now the year brought round agai n
The day the luckless king was s lai n
In Katheri ne ’s ais l e the M onarch kne l t ,With sackcloth -sh irt and i ron be l t ,And eyes wi th sorrow stream ing ;
Around h im in their stal l s of state ,The Thist l e ‘ s Knight-Companions sate ,Their banners o ’er them beam ing .
I t oo was there , and , sooth to tel l ,Bedeafen
’d w i th the j angli ng knel l ,
\Vas watch ing where th e sunbeams fe l l ,Through the s tain ’
d casement gleami ng
But , wh i l e I mark’
d what next befel l ,I t seem ’
d as I were dream i ng .
Stepp’d from the crowd a ghostly Wigh t ,
In azure gown , w i th ci ncture wh i te ;His foreh ead bald , h is h ead was bare ,D own hung at l ength hi s ye l l ow hai r.
Now , mock me not , when , good my Lord ,I pledge to you my knightly word ,
That , when I saw hi s placid grace ,His simple maj esty of face ,His solemn bearing , and h is pace
So stately gl i di ng on
Seem’
d to me ne’er d id l imner pai nt
So j ust an image of the Sai ntWho propp
’
d the V i rgi n i n her faint
The loved Apost le Joh n
XVI .
He stepped before th e M onarch ‘ s chai r ,And stood wi th rust i c p lai nness there ,And l i t t le reverence made
96 M A fezwozv.
But , after a suspended pause ,The Baron spoke O i N ature ’s laws
So s trong I held the force ,That never superhuman cause
Could e ’er contro l thei r course .A nd , three days s i nce , had judged your aimWas but to make your gues t your game .
But I have seen , s i nce past th e Tweed ,What much has changed my scepti c creed ,And made me credi t augh t .” He s taid ,And seem
’
d to wish h is words unsaidBut , by that strong emotion press
’d ,
Which prompts us to un load our breast ,Even when d iscovery ’s pain ,To Lindesay did at l ength unfold
The tal e h is v i l lage host had told ,A t Gifford , to h i s t rain .
Naugh t of th e Palmer says he there ,And naught of Constance , or of Clare
The thoughts,whi ch broke h is s leep , he seems
To mention but as feveri sh dreams .
XIX .
In vain,said he to res t I spread
M y burn ing l imbs , and couch’
d my head
Fantasti c though ts re turn ’
d ;
A nd,by thei r w i l d dominion led ,
My heart wi th i n me burn’
d .
So sore was the de l i ri ous goad ,
M A R M I ON . 97
I t ook my steed , and forth I rode ,And
,as the moon shone bright and cold
,
Soon reach’
d the camp upon th e wold .
The southern entrance I pass’
d through,
And halted , and my bugle b l ew .
M ethought an answer met my ear
Yet was th e b las t so low and drear ,So hol low , and so faintly blown ,I t migh t be echo of my own .
XX .
Thus judgi ng , for a l i t tl e space
I l i s ten ’d , ere I l eft the place ;But scarce cou ld trus t my eyes ,
Nor yet can th ink they served me true ,When sudden i n th e ring I v i ew ,
In form dist i n ct of shape and hue ,A mounted champion rise .
I ’ve fough t , Lord-Lion , many a day ,In si ngl e fight , and mix
’d afiray,
And ever , I mysel f may say ,Have borne me as a kn ight ;But when th i s unexpected foe
Seem’d start i ng from the gul f below
I care not though th e truth I show
I trembled wi th afi'
right
And as I placed in res t my spear ,M y hand so shook for very fear ,I scarce could couch i t righ t .
98 M A R M I ON .
XXI .
Why need my tongue the issueWe ran our course my charger fel l ;What could h e ’gainst the shock of hel l ?
I roll’d upon the plain .
High o ‘ er my head , with th reateni ng hand ,The spectre shook h is naked brand
Yet did the wors t remain
M y dazz l ed eyes I upward cas t
Not openi ng hel l i tse l f cou ld blast
The ir s ight , l ik e what I saw !
Ful l o n h is face the moonbeam s trook
A face could never be mistook !
I knew the s tern v indict ive l ook ,A nd held my breath for awe .
I saw the face of one who , fled
To foreign cl imes , has long been dead
I wel l be l i eve th e last ;For ne ’er
,when vi zor raised , d id stare
A human warrior , with a glare
So grimly and so ghast .
Thrice o ’er my head he shook the blade ;But when to good Saint George I pray
’d
(The first t ime e’er I ask ’
d h is a id)He plunged i t i n h is sh eath ;
And , on h is courser mounti ng l ight ,He seem
’
d to vanish from my sigh t
The moonbeams droop’d , and deepes t n ight
Sunk down upon th e heath .
1 oo fl/A R M /ON .
True son of ch ival ry should hol d
These m idnigh t terrors vai n ;For se ldom have such spiri ts powerTo harm , save i n th e evi l hour ,When gui l t we medi tate wi th i n
,
O r harbor unrepented s i n .
”
Lord M armion turned h im hal f as ide,
And twice t o cl ear h i s voi ce h e tried,
Then press’
d Si r David ’s hand
But nough t , at length , i n answer said ;And here thei r farther converse staid
,
Each ordering that h is band
Should bowne them with th e ris i ng day ,To Scot land’s camp to take the i r way .
Such was th e K ing’s command .
XXI I I .
Early th ey took Dun-Edi n’s road ,And I cou ld t race each step they trode .
Hil l,brook
,nor del l , nor rock , nor s tone ,
Lies on the path to me unknown .
M uch might i t boast of storied lore ;But
,pass i ng such digress ion o’er ,
Suffice i t that th e route was laid
Across th e furzy h i l l s o f Braid .
They passed the glen and scanty ri l l ,And cl imbed the opposi ng bank , unti l
They gained the top of Blackford Hil l .
Copyrigh ted by S . E . Cassino. M arm ion 2
I 02 M A k M /ON .
Thousands on th ousands th ere were seen,
That chequer’d al l the heath between
The s treamle t and the town ;I n cross ing ranks extending far
,
Forming a camp i rregular ;O ft givi ng way , where sti l l there stood
Some re l i cs of th e o ld oak wood ,That darkly huge d id in tervene
,
And tamed the glari ng wh ite wi th green
In these extended l ines there lay
A martial k ingdom ’s vast array .
XXVI
For from Hebudes , dark wi th rai n ,To eastern Lodon ’
s fert i l e plain ,And from th e Southern R edswire edge
To farthest Rosse’s rocky ledge ;From west to east , from south to north ,Scot land sen t al l h er warri ors forth .
M arm i on might hear the m ingled hum
) f myriads up th e mountai n come ;The horses ’ t ramp , th e t i ngl ing Clank ,Where ch iefs review’
d thei r vassal rank ,And charger’s shri l l i ng neigh ;And see the sh ifti ng l i nes advance ,While frequent flash’
d , from sh ie ld to lance ,The sun’s reflected ray .
M A R M I ON . 1 03
XXVI I .
Thi n curl ing in th e morni ng ai r ,The wreaths of fai l i ng smoke declare .
To embe rs now the brands decay’d ,
Where th e n ight-watch their fires had made .
They saw , s low rol l i ng on the plain ,Ful l many a baggage-cart and wain ,And dire arti l l ery’s cl umsy car ,By s luggi sh oxen tugg
’d to war ;And there were Borthwick
'
s Sisters Seven ,And culveri ns wh ich France had given .
I l l-omen’d gift ! th e guns remai n
The conqueror’s spoi l o n Flodden p lai n .
XXVI I I .
Nor mark ’d th ey less , where i n th e ai rA thousand streamers flaunted fai r ;Vari ous i n shape
,devi ce
,and hue
,
Green , sanguine , purpl e , red , and blue ,Broad , narrow , swal low-tail’d,
and square ,Scrol l , pennon , pensi l , bandrol , there
O ’er th e pavi l ions flew .
Highest and midmost , was descriedThe royal banner floating wide ;The staff , a pi ne-t ree , s trong and straight,
1 04
P itch’d deeply i n a mass ive stone
,
Which s ti l l i n memory is shown,
Yet bent beneath the s tandard ’s weigh tWhene
'
er the western wind unroll’
d ,
With to i l , th e huge and cumbrous fold ,And gave to view the dazz l ing field ,
Where , i n proud Scot land ’s royal sh ie ld ,The ruddy l ion ramp
’
d i n gold .
XXIX .
Lord M arm io n view’d th e landscape brigh t
He view’d i t w i th a ch ief ’s d el ight
Unti l wi th inhim burn’
d h is heart,
And l igh tni ng from h is eye d id part,
As on th e battl e-day ;Such glance did fal con never dart ,When stooping on h is prey .
Oh ! wel l . Lord-Lion , hast thousaid ,Thy K ing from warfare to d issuade
Were but i n vai n essay ;F or , by St . George , were that hos t mi ne ,Not power i nfernal nor d ivi ne ,Should once to peace my soul incl i ne ,Ti l l I had dimm’
d thei r armor’s sh i neI n glorious battl e-fray
Answer’d th e Bard , of mi lder mood
Fai r i s th e s ight—and yet ”twere goodThat k ings would th ink withal ,
1 06 M A 11’
M 10N .
Here Preston-Bay and Berwick-LawAnd , broad be tween them roll
’d ,
The gal lan t F i rt h th e eye m igh t note,
Whose is lands on i ts bosom float ,Like emeralds chased i n gold .
F itz -Eustace’ heart fe l t closely pent ;As if to give h i s rapture vent
,
The spur h e to h is charger l ent,
And rai sed h is b ridl e hand,
And , making demi-vol te i n ai r ,Cried , Where’s the coward that would no t
To fight for such a land ?”
The Lindesay sm i l ed h is j oy to see ;Nor M arm ion ’s frown repress
’d h is glee .
XXXI .
Thus wh il e they look ’d , a flourish proud
Where mingled trump and clari'
on loud ,And fife , and kettl e-drum ,
And sackbut deep , and psal tery ,And war-pipe wi th discordant cry ,And cymbal clat teri ng to the sky ,M aking wi ld mus i c bold and h igh ,Did up th e mountai n come ;The wh i ls t th e bel ls , wi th distant ch ime ,M erri ly told the hour of prime ,And thus th e Lindesay spokeThus clamor sti l l th e war-notes when
M A R M I ON . 1 07
The k ing to mass h i s way has ta’en ,
Or to St . Kathari ne ’s of S ienne ,O r Chapel of Sain t Rocque .
To you they speak of mart ial fame ;But me remind of peaceful game ,When bl i ther was thei r cheer
,
Thri l l i ng i n Falkland-woods the ai r,In signal none h is steed shou ld spare ,But stri ve wh i ch foremost migh t repair
To the downfal l of the deer .
XXXI I .
Nor less ,” he sai d when looking i orth,
I v i ew yon Empress of th e NorthSi t on her h i l ly throne
Her palace’s imperial bowers ,Her castle , proof to hosti l e powers ,Her stately hal ls and holy towers
Nor l ess ,” he said , I moan
,
To th ink what woe mischance may b ring ,And how these merry be l l s may ri ng
,
The death -dirge of our gal lant king ;O r wi th th e larum cal l
The burghers forth to watch and ward,
’Gainst South ern sack and fires to guard
Dun-Edin ’s leaguer’
d wal l
But not for my presagi ng thought ,D ream conquest sure , or cheaply bought ‘.
Lord M armion , I say nay ;
1 08 M A A’
M I ON .
God is the guider of the field ,
He breaks th e Champion ’s spear and sh ie ld
But thou thysel f shal t say ,When joins yon host i n deadly s towre ,That England ’s dames must weep i n bower ,Her monks the death -mass s ing ;For never saw’
st thou such a power
Led on by such a n .
And now , down winding to the plain ,The barri ers of the camp they gain ,And there th ey made a stay .
There stay the M i ns tre l , t i l l h e fl ingHis hand o’er every Border string ,And fit h i s harp the pomp to s ing
O i Scot land ’s anci ent Court and King ,I n th e succeeding lay.
1 1 o M A R M I ON .
I I .
Nor less d id M armion ’s ski l fu l v iewGlance every l i ne and squadron through ;And much he marve ll
’
d one smal l land
Could marshal fort h such various band
For men-at-arms were here ,Heavi ly sheathed i n mai l and plate ,Like i ron towers for st rength and weight ,O h F lemish steeds of b one and height ,With batt l e-axe and spear .
Young knigh ts and squ ires,a l igh ter tra in ,
Pract ised the i r charge rs on the plain ,By aid of leg , of hand , and re in ,Each warl ik e feat t o show,
To pass , to whee l , the croupe to gai n ,And h igh curve tt , that not i n vai n
The sword sway migh t descend amai n
O h foeman ’s casque be low .
He saw the hardy burghers there
M arch arm ’d , on foot , with faces bare ,For vi zor they wore none ,Nor waving plume , nor cres t o f kn igh t ;But burn ished were the i r cors le ts b right ,Thei r brigant i nes , and gorgets l igh t ,Like very s i lve r shone .
Long pikes they had for s tandi ng fight,Two-handed swords they wore ,And many wielded mace of weigh t ,And bucklers bright they bore .
M A R M ZOZV. 1 1 1
O h foot th e yeoman too , but dress’d
In h is stee l-jack , a swarthy vest ,With iron qu i l ted wel l ;Each at h is back (a s lender s tore)His forty days ’ provis ion bore ,As feudal s tatutes te l l .
His arms were halbert , axe , or spear,A crossbow there , a hagbut here ,A dagger-kni fe , and brand .
Sober he seem ’d , and sad of cheer ,
As loth to l eave h is cottage dear ,And march to fore ign strand ;
O r musing , who woul d guide h is steer ,To ti l l t he fal l ow land .
Yet deem not i n h is thoughtful eye
D i d ought of dastard terror l i e ;M ore dreadful far h is i re ,Than thei rs , who , scorning danger
’s name ,I n eager mood to battl e came ,Thei r valor l ike l igh t s traw on flame ,
A fierce but fadi ng fire .
Not so the Borderer : bred to war,He knew the batt l e ’s d i n afar ,And joy
’d to hear i t swel l .
His peacefu l day was s loth ful ease ;
1 1 2 M A R M !01V.
Nor harp , nor pipe , h is ear could pl easeLike the loud slogan yel l .
O n acti ve s teed , with lance and blade ,The l ight-arm ’d pri cker p l ied h i s t rade
Let nobl es fight for fame ;Let vassals fol low where they l ead ,
Burghers to guard the ir townsh ips bleed ,But war’s the Borderer’s game .
Thei r gain , thei r g lory , th ei r del ight ,To sleep th e day , maraud the n igh t ,O ‘ er mountai n , moss , and moor ;
Joyfu l to fight they took thei r way ,Scarce caring who migh t win th e day
,
Their booty was secure .
These,as Lord M armion ’s train pass
’
d by,
Look’
d on at first wi th carel ess eye ,Nor marve ll
’
d aught , wel l taugh t to knowThe form and force of Engl i sh bow .
But when they saw the Lord array’d
In splend id arms and ri ch brocade ,Each Borderer to h is k i nsman said
H ist , R i ngen ! sees t th ou there '
Canst guess wh ich road th ey’ l l h omeward ride ?
0 ! cou ld we bu t on Border s ide ,By Eusedale glen , or Lidde ll
’
s t ide ,Beset a pri ze so fai r !
That fangless Lion , too , th ei r guide ,M ight chance to lose h is gl is tering hide ;Brown M audl in , of that doublet pied ,Could make a kirt l e rare .
”
1 1 4 M A 161W]ON
They raised a wi ld and wondering cry,
As with h is gu ide rode M armion by .
Loud were thei r clamori ng tongues,as when
The clanging sea-fowl l eave the fe n ,
And , wi th the i r cries d iscordant m ix’
d,
Grumbled and ye ll’
d the pi pes betwixt .
Thus through the Scott ish camp they pass’d,
And reached the City gate at last ,Where al l around , a wakeful guard ,
Arm ’d burghers kept th ei r watch and ward .
Well had they cause of j ealous fear,
W'
hen lay encamped , i n fie ld so near ,The Borderer and th e M oun taineer .
As through the bustl ing streets they go ,
Al l was al i ve wi th mart ial showA t every turn , with di nning clang ,The armorer’s anvi l c lash’
d and rang ;O r to il
’
d th e swarthy sm ith , to wheel
The bar that arms the charger’s heel ;O r axe , or fal ch i on , to th e s id e
O f j arring grindstone was appl ied .
Page,groom , and squ i re , with hurrying pace ,
Through stree t , and lane , and market-place ,Bore lance , or casque , or sword ;
Wh i le burghers , with important face ,Descr ibed each new-come lord ,
M A R M l O/V.
D iscuss’
d h is l ineage , to l d h is name ,His fol lowing , and h is warl ike fame .
The Lion led to lodgi ng meet ,Which h igh o
'
erlook’
d ‘ the crowded street ;There must the Baron rest ,Til l pas t the hour of vesper tide ,And then to Holy-Rood must ride
Such was the K ing’s behest .
M eanwh i le the Lio n ’s care ass igns
A banquet rich , and cost ly wines ,To M armion and h is tra in ;And when the appointed hour succeeds .The Baron dons h is peacefu l weeds ,And fol lowing Lindesay as he l eads ,The palace-halls they gain .
O ld Holy-R ood rung merri ly
That night , with wasse l l , mirth , and glee ;King James with in her prince ly bower
Feasted the Chiefs of Scot land ’s power ,Summon’d to spend the part i ng hour ;For h e had charged , that h is array
Should southward march by b reak of day.
Well loved that sp lend id monarch aye
The banquet and the song,
By day the tourney , and by nigh t
The merry dance , t raced fas t and l ight ,
1 1 5
1 I 6 M A R M I OI V.
The maskers quai nt , th e pageant bright ,The revel loud and long .
This feast outshone h is banquets pas t ,I t was h i s b l i thes t and h i s last .
The dazzl i ng lamps , from gal l ery gay ,Cast on the Court a dancing ray ;Here to the harp d id minstrels s ing
There ladies touch ’
d a softer stri ng ;With l ong-ear ’d cap , and motl ey vest ,The l i censed foo l re tail ’d h is j est ;His magic tri cks the juggler pl ied
A t d ice and draughts the gal lants v ied ;Whil e some , i n close recess apart ,Courted the ladies of thei r heart ,Nor courted them i n vain ;For often , i n the partmg hour ,V i ctori ous Love asserts h is power
O ’er coldness and d isdain ;And fl inty i s her heart , can viewTo batt l e march a lover true
Can hear,perchance , h is last adieu ,
Nor own her share of pai n .
V I I I .
Through th is m ix’d crowd of gl ee and game.
The King to greet Lord M arm ion came ,While , reverent , al l made room .
1 1 8 M A [BM ]01V.
And auburn of the darkes t dyeH is short curl ’d beard and hair .
Light was h is foots tep i n th e dance ,And firm h is st i rrup i n the l i s ts ;And , oh he had that merry glance ,That seldom lady ’s heart res is ts .
Light ly from fair to fai r h e flew ,
And loved to plead , lament , and sue ;Sui t l ightly won , and short-l i ved pain,
For monarchs seldom sigh i n vai n .
I said he joy‘
d i n banque t bower ;But ,
’mid h is m i rth,
’twas often strange ,How suddenly h is cheer would change ,His look o
’
ercast and lower .I f, i n a sudden turn , he fel t
The pressure of h i s i ron be l t
That bound h i s breast i n penance pain ,
I n memory of h is fathe r s lai n .
Even so ”twas strange how , evermore.
Soon as the pass ing pang was o’er
Forward he rush ’d , wi th double glee ,Into the s tream of revel ry :
Thus , dim-seen object of affrigh t
Start l es th e courser i n h is fl igh t ,And hal f he hal ts , hal f spri ngs as ide ;But feel s the qu ick ening spur appl ied ,And , straini ng on the tighten
’d re i n ,Scours doubly swi ft o ’er h i l l and plain
WA R M I ON . 1 19
O ’er James ‘s heart , the court i ers say ,S ir Hugh the Heron ’s wi fe h e ld sway
To Scot land ’s court she came ,To be a hostage for her l ord ,Who Cessford’
s gal lant h eart had gored,And wi th the King to make accord ,Had sen t h is lovely dame .
Nor to that lady free al one
D id the'
gay King al legiance own ;For th e fai r Queen of France
Sent h im a turquoise ri ng and glove ,And charged h im , as her knigh t and love ,For her to break a lance ;And s trike three strokes wi th Scot ti sh brand ,And march three mi les on Southron land ,And bid th e banners of h is band
In Engl ish breezes dance .
And thus , for France’s Queen h e drest
His manly l imbs i n mai led ves t ;And thus admi tted Engl ish fai r
H is i nmost counsels s ti l l to share ;And thus for both he madly plann
’d
The ruin of h imsel f and land '
And yet , th e sooth to te l l ,Nor England ’s fair , nor France
’s Queen ,Were worth one pearl-drop , brigh t and sheen,From M argare t’s eyes that fel l
1 2 0 M A R M I ON .
His own Queen M argaret , who , i n Lithgow’s
bower ,A 11 l onely sat , and wept th e weary hour .
XI .
The Queen si ts l one in Li thgow pi le ,And weeps the weary day
The war agai nst h er nat ive soi l ,Her M onarch ’s risk in battl e bro i l
And i n gay Holy-Rood , th e wh i le ,Dame Heron ri ses wi th a smil e
Upon the harp to play
Fair was her rounded arm , as o’er
The stri ngs her fingers flew ;And as she touch’
d and tuned th em all ,
Even her bosom ’s rise and fal l
Was plai ner given to v iew ;For , al l for heat , was laid aside
Her wimpl e , and her hood unt i ed .
And first sh e pitch’
d her voi ce to s ing ,Then glanced her dark eye on the King,And then around the s i l ent ri ng ;And laugh
’d , and blush’d , and oft d id say
Her pretty oath , by Yea and Nay ,She coul d not , would not , durst not p lay !A t l ength upon the harp , with glee ,M i ngl ed wi th arch simpl ici ty ,A soft , yet l ively , ai r she rung ,Wh i l e thus th e wi ly lady sung
1 2 2 M A R M I ON
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never aword) ,
0 come ye i n peace here , or come ye i n war ,O r to dance at our bridal , young Lord Loch in
var ?”
I l ong woo‘
d your daughter , my su i t youdenied ;
Love swel ls l ike the Solway,bu t ebbs l ike i ts
t ide
And now am I come , with th is l os t l ove of mine
To l ead but one measure , dri nk one cup of wine .
There are maidens in Scotland more love ly byfar ,
That would gladly be bride to th e young Lochi nvar .”
The bride kiss’d th e goblet : th e knigh t took itup ,
He quafi’ d off th e wine , and he threw down the
cup .
She look ’d down to b lush , and sh e look
’d up to
s igh ,W i th a sm i le on her l ips , and a tear i n her eye ,He took her soft hand
,ere her mother cou ld
bar
Now tread we a measure said young Lochinvar .
M A l t’
M I OM 1 23
So s tately h is form , and so lovely her face ,That never a hal l such a gal l iard did grace ;Whi l e h er mother d id fret , and her father did
fume ,And the bridegroom s tood dangl i ng h is bonnet
and ‘
plume ;
A nd th e bride-maidens whisper’d ,
’Twere bet
ter by far
To have match’d our fai r cous i n wi th young
Loch invar .
One touch to her hand , and one word i n her
ear ,When they reach’d th e hal l-door , and the char
ger s tood near ;8 0 l igh t to th e croupe th e fai r lady he swung
So l igh t to the saddl e before her he sprung !
She i s won ! we are gone , over bank , bush ,and scaur ;
They’l l have fleet s teeds that fol l ow , quo th
young Lochi nvar .
There was mount ing’mong Graemes of the
Netherby clan
Forsters , Fenwicks , and M usgraves , they rodeand they ran ;
There was racing and chas ing on Cannobie Lee ,But th e los t bride of Netherby ne ’er d id they
see .
1 24 M A R M I ON .
So daring i n l ove , and so dauntless i n war ,Have ye e
’er heard of gal lant l ike young Lochi nvar?
XI I I .
The M onarch o ’er th e s i ren hung,
And beat th e measure as she sung ;And , press ing closer and more near ,He whisper
’
d praises i n her ear .In loud applause th e court iers vi ed ;And lad ies wink ’
d ,and spoke as ide .
The Wi tch ing dame to M arm ion th rewA glance , where seem
’
d to reignThe pride that claims applauses due
,
And of h er royal conques t too ,A real or fc ign
’d di sdai n
Fami l iar was th e look , and told
M armion and sh e were friends of old .
The King observed thei r meeti ng eyes
With someth ing l ike d ispl eased surprise ;For monarchs i l l can rivals b rook ,Even i n a word , or smi l e , or l ook .
S traigh t took he forth th e parchment broad ,Which M armion’s h igh commiss ion show’d
Our Borders sack’d by many a raid ,Our peaceful l iege-men robb
’
d ,
” he said
O h day of truce our Warden s lai n ,Stout Barton kill’d , h is vassals ta
’en
1 2 6 M A R M I O/V
And even that day , at counci l board ,Unapt to soothe h is sovereign’s mood
,
Against th e war had Angus stood,
And chafed h is royal lord .
XV .
His giant-form , l ike ruin’
d tower ,Though fall’n i ts muscles ’ brawny vaunt
,
Huge-boned , and tal l , and grim ,and gaunt
,
Seem’
d o’er th e gaudy scene to l owerH is locks and beard i n s i lver grew ;His eyebrows kept their sabl e hue .
Near Douglas when the M onarch stood ,H is b i tter speech he thus pursued
Lord M armion , s ince these l et ters say
That i n the North you needs mus t s tay ,Whil e sl igh test hopes of peace remain ,Uncourteous speech i t were , and stem ,
To say R eturn to Lind isfarne ,Unti l my herald come agai n .
Then rest you i n Tantal lon Hold
lYour host shal l be the Douglas boldA ch ief un l ike h is s ires of old .
He wears thei r motto on h is b lade ,Their b lazon o ’er h is towers display
’d
Yet loves h is sovereign to oppose
M ore than to face h is country ‘ s foes .
And , I beth ink me , by St . Stephen ,But e ’en th is morn to me was given
M A R M ZOZV.
A pri ze , the first-frui ts of the war ,Ta’en by a gal l ey from Dunbar ,A bevy of the maids of Heaven .
Under your guard , these holy maids
Shal l safe return to Cl o i s ter shades ,And , whi l e they at Tantal l on stay ,Requiem for Cochran ’s soul may say .
And , wi th the s laughter’d favori te ’s name ,
Across the M onarch ’s brow there came
A cloud of i re , remorse , and shame .
XVI
In answer nought could Angus speak ;His proud heart swell’d wel l-nigh to break
He turn’d as ide , and down h is cheek
A burn ing tear there s tol e .
His hand th e M onarch sudden took ,That s ight h is k ind heart could not brook .
Now , by the Bruce’s soul ,
Angus , my hasty speech forgive
For sure as doth h is spi ri t l ive ,As he said of the Douglas old ,I wel l may say of you
That never k ing d id subj ect h ol d ,In speech more free , i n war more bold ,M ore tender and more true
Forgive me , Douglas , once agai n .
”
And,whi l e the K ing h is hand did strain ,
The old man’s tears fel l down l ike rai n .
1 2 7
1 28 M A A’
M/ON .
To sei ze the moment M armion tried,
And whisper’d to the K ing aside :
Oh ! l e t such tears unwonted plead
For respi te short from dubious deed !
A ch i ld wi l l weep a bramble ’s smart ,A maid to see her sparrow part ,A stripl ing for a woman ’s heart ;But woe awai ts a country , when
She sees the tears of bearded m en .
Then , oh ! what omen , dark and h igh ,When Douglas wets h is manly eye
XVI I .
D i spleased was James,that stranger view’
d
And tamper’d wi th h is changing mood
Laugh those that can , weep those that may ,Thus d id th e fiery M onarch say ,Southward I march by break of day ;And i f wi th i n Tantal lon strong
The good Lord M armion tarries long ,Perchance ou r meet ing next may fal l
A t Tamworth,i n h is cas tl e-hal l .
The haughty M armion fel t th e taunt ,A nd answer
’
d , grave , the royal vaunt
M uch honor’d were my humble home ,I f i n i ts hal l s K ing James should come ;But Notti ngham has archers good ,And Yorksh ire men are stern of mood ;Northumbrian prickers w i ld and rude .
1 3 0 M A I t’
M I ON .
Nor knew wh ich saint she should implore ,For
,when she though t of Constance , sore
She fear’d Lord M arm i on ’s mood .
And judge what Clara mus t have fel t !
The sword that hung i n M armion’s bel t ,Had drunk De Wi l ton ’s bl ood .
Unw i tt ingly , King James had given ,As guard to \Vhitby
’
s shades ,The man most dreaded under HeavenBy these defencel ess maids
Yet what peti t ion could avai l ,O r who would l is ten to the tal e
Of woman , prisoner , and nun ,’M id bust le of a war begun
They deem ’d i t hopel ess to avoid
The convoy of the i r dangerous guide .
XIX .
Their lodging , so th e K ing ass ign’d ,
To M armion ’s , as thei r guard ian , join’d ;
And thus i t fe l l , that , pass i ng h igh ,The Palmer caugh t the Abbess’ eye ,Who warn ’d h im by a scrol l ,She had a secret to reveal ,That much concern ’
d the Church ’s weal ,And heal th of s in ner’s soul ;And , wi th deep charge o f secrecy ,She named a place to mee t ,
M A R M ]01V.
With in an open bal cony ,That hung from di zzy pi tch , and h igh ,Above the s tately s treet ;To wh ich
,as common to
“
each home ,A t night they might i n s ecre t come .
XX .
A t night , i n secret , there they came ,The Palmer and th e holy Dame .
The moon among the cl ouds rode h igh ,And al l th e ci ty hum was by .
Upon the s tree t , where late before
Did din of war and warriors roar ,You m igh t have heard a pebb le fal l ,A beetle hum , a cricket s ing ,A n owlet flap h is boding w ing
On Giles’s steepl e tal l .
The ant ique bui ld i ngs , cl imbing h igh ,Whose Goth i c front l e ts sough t th e sky,
‘
Were here wrapt deep i n shade ;There on thei r brows the moon -beam broke ,Through the faint wreaths of s i lvery smoke ,And on the easements play
’d .
And other l ight was none to see ,Save torches gl id ing far
,
Before some Ch ieftain of degree ,Who left th e royal revel ry
To bowne h im for the war .
A solemn scene the Abbess chose ;A solemn hour , her secret to d isclose .
1 3 1
1 3 2 M A R M I ON .
XXI .
O , holy Palmer she began
For sure he must be sain ted man ,Whose blessed fee t have trod the ground
Where the Redeemer’s tomb is found
For H is dear Church ’s sake,my tale
Attend , nor deem of l ight avai l ,Though I must speak of world ly loveHow vain to those who wed above 1De Wilton and Lord M arm i on woo’d
Clara de Clare , of Gloster’s blood
(Idle i t were of Whitby’s dame
,
To say of that same blood I came) ;And once when j eal ous rage was h igh
,
Lord M armion said despi teously ,Wil ton was t rai tor i n h is heart ,And had made league wi th M art in Swart,When he came here on S imnel ’s part ;And only cowardice did res train
His rebel aid on Stokefield’s plain
And down he th rew h is gl ove : the th ing
Was tried , as wont , before th e K ing ;Where frankly d id De Wil ton own
That Swart in Gueldres he had known ;And that between them then th ere went
Some scrol l o f courteous compl iment .
For th is h e to h is cas tl e sent ;But when h is messenger re turn’
d ,
Judge how De Wi lton ’s fury burn’d !
M A R M I OZV.
For in h is packet there were laidLetters that claim’
d dis loyal a id ,And proved King Henry ’s cause betray
’d .
His fame , thus bl igh ted , i n th e field
He strove to clear by spear and sh ie ld ;To clear h is fame i n vai n he strove ,For wonderous are H is ways above !
Perchance some form was unobserved ;Perchance i n prayer , or fa i th , he swerved ;Else how could gui l t l ess champion quai l ,O r how the b lessed ordeal fai l ?
XXI I .
His squi re,who now De Wilton saw
As recreant doom ’
d to sufl'
er l aw ,
Repentant , own’
d i n vain ,That , whi le h e had the scrol l s i n care ,A stranger maiden
,pass ing fai r ,
Had drenched h im wi th a beverage rare ;His words , no fai t h could gai n .
With Clare alone he credence won ,Who , rather than wed M armion ,Did to Sai nt Hi lda’s shrine repair ,To give our house her l iv i ngs fair
And d ie a vestal vot ’ress there .
The impulse from the earth was given,
But bent h er to th e paths of heaven .
A purer heart , a love l i er maid ,
I 3 3
1 3 4 I VA R M I ON .
Ne ’er she lter’
d her in Whitby’s shade ,No , not s ince Saxon Ede lfledOnly one trace of earthly s trai n ,That for her lover’s loss
She cherishes a sorrow vai n,
A nd murmurs a t the cross .
And then her heri tage— it goes
Along th e banks of Tame ;Deep fie lds of grai n the reaper mows ,In meadows rich the heifer lows ,The fal coner and huntsman know
I ts woodlands for the game .
Shame were i t to Sai nt H i lda dear ,And I , her humble vot
’ress here ,Should do a deadly s i n ,Her temple spo il
’
d before mine eyes ,I f th is fal se M armion such a pri zeBy my consent should wi n
Yet hath our boisterous monarch sworn
That Clare shal l from our house be torn ,And gri evous cause have I to fear
Such mandate doth Lord M armion bear .
XXI I I .
Now , prisoner , helpl ess , and betray’d
To evi l power , I claim th i ne aid ,
By every step that thou hast trod
To holy shri ne and grotto d im ,
By every martyr’s tortured l imb ,
I 3 6 M A A’M I ON .
Saint H i lda keep her Abbess true !Who knows what outrage he might do ,
Whi le journeying by the way ?
O , b lessed Sai nt , i f e’er agai n
I ven turous leave thy calm domain,
To travel or by land or mai n,
Deep penance may I pay
Now , sai ntly Palmer , mark my prayer
I give th is packe t to thy care ,For thee to stop they wi l l not dareAnd 0 wi th cauti ous speed
,
To Wolsey’s hand the papers bri ng
,
T hat he may show them to the K ing
And , for thy wel l -earn’d meed ,
T hou holy man , at Wh i tby’s shrine
A week ly mass shal l s t i l l be th i ne ,While priests can s ing and read .
What ail’st thou ? Speak For as he took
T he charge , a strong emot ion shook
His frame ; and , ere reply ,T hey heard a fai nt , yet shri l ly tone
L ike distant clarion feebly blown ,That on the breeze did die ;
A nd l ong the Abbess shriek ’d i n fear ,
Saint Withold , save us ! What is here?Look at yon Ci ty Cross
S ee on i ts batt l e tower appear
P hantoms , that scutcheons seem to rear ,A nd blaz on
’d banners toss
M A R M ]01V.
XXV .
Dun-Edin’s Cross , a pi l lar’d s tone ,
Rose on a turre t octagon
(But now is razed that monument ,Whence royal ed ict rang ,
And voice of Scotland ’s law was sentIn glori ous trumpet-clang .
0 ! be h is tomb as lead to l ead ,Upon i ts dul l destroyer
’
s h ead
A minstre l ’s mal ison is said) .
Then on i ts bat tl ements they saw
A vis ion,pass ing Nature ’s law ,
Strange , wi ld , and dimly seen
Figures that seem ’d to ri se and die ,
Gibber and sign , advance and fly,Whi le nough t confirm ’
d coul d ear or eye
Discern of sound or m ien .
Yet darkly d id i t seem , as th ereHeralds and Pursui vants prepare
,
With trumpe t sound and b lazon fai r,
A summons to procla im
But i ndis ti nc t the pagean t proud,
As fancy forms of midnigh t cloud,
When flings the moon upon her sh roud
A wavering t inge of flame ;I t fl i ts , expands , and sh i fts , t i l l loud ,From midmost of the spect re crowd ,This awful summons came :
1 3 8 M A c l ozv.
XXVI .
Prince , prelate , potentate , and peer ,Whose names I now shal l cal l
,
Scotti sh , or fore igner , give ear ;Subj ects of him who sent me here ,A t h is tribunal to appear
,
I summon one and all
I ci te you by each deadly s in ,That e ’er hath so il
’
d your hearts wi th inI ci te you by each brutal lust ,That e ’er defiled your earth ly dust
By wrath , by pride , by fea r ,By each o
’
e rmastering passion’s tone ,
By the dark grave , and dyi ng groan !
When forty days are pass‘
d and gone ,I ci te you , at your M onarch
’s th rone ,To answer and appear . ”
Then thunder’d forth a rol l of names
The first was th i ne , unhappy James !
Then al l thy nobles came
Crawford , Glencai rn , M ontrose , Argyle ,Ross , Bothwel l , Forbes , Lennox , Lyle
Why should I te l l th e i r separat e styl eEach ch ief of b irth and fame ,
Of Low land , High land , Border , I sle ,Fore-doom ’
d to F l odden ’s carn age pi le ,Was ci ted th ere by name ;And M arm ion , Lord of Fontenaye ,
1 40 M A le ozv.
Bold Douglas to Tantal l on fai rThey j ourney i n thy Charge :Lord M armion rode on h i s righ t hand
,
The Palme r s t i l l was wi th the band ;Angus , l i ke Lindesay, did command
That none should roam at large .
But i n that Palmer’s al tered m i en
A wondrous change migh t now be se en .
Free ly he spoke of war ,O f marvels wrought by si ngle hand ,
When l i fted for a nat ive land ;A nd st i l l look ’
d h igh , as i f h e plann’d
Some desperate deed afar .
H is courser would he feed and stroke ,A nd , tuck i ng up h i s sab le frocke ,
Would firs t h is metal bold provoke ,Then soothe or que l l h is pride .
O ld Hubert said , that never one
He saw , except Lord M armion ,A steed so fai rly ride .
XXVI I I .
S ome hal f-hour’s march beh i nd , th ere came ,By Eustace govern
’d fai r ,
A t roop escort i ng H i lda’s Dame ,With al l h er nuns
,and Clare .
N o audience had Lord M armion sough t ;Ever he fear’d to aggravate
C lara de Clare ’s s usp icious hate ;
M A 16111]01V: 1 4 1
A nd safer ’twas , he thought ,To wai t t i l l , from the nuns removed ,The influence of k i nsmen loved ,And sui t by Henry ’s self approved ,Her slow consent had wrough t .
His was no flickering flame , that d i es
Un less when fann’d by looks and S ighs ,
And l ighted oft at lady’s eyesHe long
’d to stre tch h is wide command
O ’er luck l ess Clara’s ampl e landBesides , when Wi lton with him vied ,Al though the pang of humbled pride
The place of jealousy suppl ied ,Yet conques t by that meanness won
He almost loath’
d to th ink upon ,Led h im , at t imes , to hate the cause
Which made h im burs t through honor’s laws .I f e ’er he l oved ,
’twas her alone ,Who died wi th in the vaul t of stone .
XXIX .
And now , when cl ose at hand they sawNorth Berw i ck ’s town , and otty Law ,
F i t z-Eustace bade them pause awhi l e ,Before a venerabl e p i l e ,Whose turrets view’
d , afar ,The l ofty Bass , the Lambie I s l e ,The ocean
'
s peace or war .
1 42 M A l e ozv.
A t tol l ing of a bel l , forth cameThe convent ’s venerable Dame ,And pray
’d Sai nt H i lda ’s Abbess rest
With her , a l oved and honor’
d guest ,Til l Douglas should a bark prepare
To waft her back to Whi tby fair .
Glad was the Abbess , you may guess ,And thanked the Scottish Prioress ;And ted ious were to te l l , I ween ,The courteous speech that pass
’
d between .
O’
erjoyed , the nuns'
the ir palfreys l eave ;But when fair Clara d id intend ,
Like them , from horseback to descend ,F i t z-Eustace s aid , I gri eve ,Fai r lady
,grieve e ’en from my heart ,
Such gentle company to part ;Think not discourtesy ,But l ords” commands m ust be obey’d ;And M armion and the Douglas said ,That you must wend wi th me .
Lord M arm i o n hath a le tte r broad ,Which to th e Scott ish Earl he show’d ,Commanding that , beneath h is care ,Without de lay you shal l repair
To your good ki nsman , Lord Fitz -Clare .
XXX .
The startled Abbess l oud exclaim’d
But she , at whom the blow was aim d,
1 44 M A RM I ON .
And call’d th e Prioress to aid,
To curse wi th candle , bel l , and book .
Her head the grave Cis tertian shook
The Douglas , and the K ing ,” she said ,I n thei r commands wi l l b e obey’d ;Gri eve not , nor dream that harm can fall
The maiden i n Tan tal l on hal l .”
XXXI .
The Abbess , seeing stri fe was vai n ,Assumed her wonted state agai nFor much of s tate sh e had
Composed her ve i l , and raised her head ,And Bid ,
” i n sol emn voice she said,
Thy master , bold and bad ,The records of h i s house turn o’er ,A nd ,
when he shal l th ere wri tten see ,That one of h is own ancestry
Drove the M onks forth of Coventry ,Bid h im h is fate explore !
Prancing in pride of earth ly t rus t ,His charger hurl ’d h im to the dus t ,And , by a base pl ebe ian thrust ,
He died h is band before .
God judge ’twix t M armion and me ;He i s a Ch ief of h igh degree ,
And I a poor recluseYet oft , i n holy wri t , we see
Even such weak minister as me
M A R M I OZV.
M ay the oppressor bruise
For thus , i nspired , did Judi th s layThe mighty in h i s s i n ,And Jael thus , and Ij eborahHere hasty Blount broke i n
Fitz -Eustace , we must march our band ;St . Anton’ fire th ee ! wi l t thou s tand
Al l day , wi th bonnet i n thy hand ,To hear the lady preach ?
By th i s good l igh t ! i f thus we stay ,Lord M armion , for our fond delay ,Wil l sharper sermon teach .
Come,don thy cap , and mount thy horse ;
The dame must pat i ence take perforce .”
XXXI I .
Submi t we then to force , said Clare ,But l e t th i s barbarous l ord despai r
H is purposed aim to wi nLet h im take l ivi ng , land , and l ife ;But to be M arm i on ’s wedded wi fe
I n me were deadly s i n :
And if i t be the K ing’s decree
That I must find no sanctuary
In that i nvi olab le dome ,Where even a homicide m igh t come ,And safely res t h i s head ,
Though at i ts open portal s stood ,Thirs ti ng to pour forth b lood for b lood ,The ki nsmen of the dead ;
I 4S
1 46 M A leMm/v
Yet one asylum is my own
Against the dreaded hour ;A low , a s i l ent , and a lone ,Where kings have l i t t l e power .One v ict im i s before me there .
M othe r , your b less i ng , and i n prayerRem ember your unhappy ClareLoud weeps th e Abbess
,and bestows
K ind bl ess ings many a one
Weeping and wail ing loud arose,
Round pat ien t Clare , the clamorous woesO i every s imple nun .
His eyes the gent l e Eustace dried
And scarce rude Blount th e s igh t could bide,
Then took th e squire her re i n ,And gently led away her steed ,And , by each courteous word and deed ,To cheer her strove i n vai n .
XXXI I I .
But scant th ree mi les th e band had rode ,When o ’er a he igh t they passed ,And , sudden , cl ose before them show
’d
H is towers , Tantal lon vast ;Broad , mass ive , h igh , and st retch ing far ,A nd held impregnabl e i n war ,O h a proj ect i ng rock they rose ,And round three sides the ocean flows ,The fourth did battl ed wal l s enclose ,A nd double mound and fosse .
1 48 M A l czw ozv.
And mel ted by degrees away,
King James was dal lyi ng off the dayWith Heron’s wi ly dame .
Such acts to ch ron icl es I yield ;Go seek them there , and see
M i ne i s a tal e of F l odden F i e ld,
And not a h istory .
A t l ength they heard the Scott i sh hostOn that h igh ridge had made thei r post,Which frowns o ’er M illfie ld Plai n ;And that brave Surrey many a band
Had gather’
d i n the Southern land ,
And march’
d i nto Northumberland,
And camp at Wooler ta’en .
M armion , l ik e charger i n th e stal l ,That hears , wi thout , th e trumpet-call ,Began to chafe , and swear
A sorry th ing to h ide my head
In castl e , l ik e a fearful maid
When such a held is near !
Needs mus t I see th i s batt l e-day
Death to my fame i f such a fray
Were fought , and M arm ion away !
The Douglas , too , I wot not why
Hath ’bated of h i s courtesyNo longer i n h i s hal l s I ’ l l s tay .
Then bade h is band they should arrayFor march agai ns t the dawning day .
Copyri0O hted by S . E . Cassino.
Marmi on
1 50 M A lezwozv.
Dej ected Clara wel l could bear
The formal s tate , the lengthen’
d prayer ,Though deares t to her wounded heart
The hours that sh e might spend apart.
I said , Tantallon’s di zzy s teep
Hung o ’er the margi n of the deep .
M any a rude tower and rampart th ereR epel l
’
d th e insu l t of the ai r
Which when the tempest vex d the sky ,Half breeze , half spray , came wh ist l ing by.
Above the rest , a turret square
Did o ’er i ts Goth i c en trance bear ,O i sculpture rude a stony sh iel d ;The Bloody Heart was i n the F i e ld ,And i n th e ch ief three mul lets s tood ,The cogni zance of Douglas b lood .
The turret held a narrow stai r ,Which , mounted , gave you access where
A parapet ’s embattled row
D i d seaward round th e castle go .
Sometimes i n dizzy steps de sce nding ,
Sometim es i n n arrow circu it bending ,
Sometimes i n pl atform broad extend ing ,
I ts varying ci rcl e d id combin eBulwark
,and bartizan
,and l in e
,
And bastion , tower , and vantage-coign
M A leM JON .1 5 1
A bove the booming ocean l eant
The far-projectmg batt l ement
The bi l l ows burs t , i n c easel ess flow ,
Upon the precipice below .
Where ’er Tantal l on faced the land ,Gate-works
,and wall s , were strongly mann
’d ,‘
No need upon th e sea-girt s ide ;The steepy rock , and franti c t ide ,
Approach of human step denied ;And thus these l i nes and ramparts rude ,Were left i n deepes t sol i tude .
I I I .
A nd , for they were so l onely , Clare
Would to th ese battl ements repai r ,And muse upon her sorrows there
,
And l i s t th e sea-bi rd ’s cry ;O r slow , l ik e noon -t ide ghost , would
Along the dark-grey bulwarks ’ s ide,
And ever on th e heaving t ide
Look down with weary eye .
Oft did the cl iii and swel l ing mai n
Recal l the thoughts of Whi tby’s fane
A home she ne ’er m ight see agai n ;For sh e had laid adown
,
So Douglas bade , th e hood and veil ,A nd frontl et of th e Cl oi s ter pale ,A nd Benedict ine gown
1 5 2 M A
I t were unseemly sigh t,he said ,
A novi ce out of convent shade .
Now her brigh t l ocks , wi th sunny glow ,
Again adorn ’
d her brow of snow ;Her mantl e ri ch , whose borders , round ,A deep and fretted broi dery bound ,I n golden fold ings sough t the ground ;O i holy ornament , alone
Remai n ’d a cross wi th ruby stone ;And often did she look
O h that wh ich i n h er hand she bore ,With vel ve t bound , and broider
’
d o ’er ,Her breviary. book .
In such a place , so lone , so grim ,
A t dawn ing pale , on twi l igh t d im ,
I t fearful would have been
To meet a form so r i ch ly dress ’d ,
With book i n hand , and cross on breast ,And such a woefu l m i en .
Fi tz-Eustace , l oi tering wi th h is bow ,
To pract ise on the gul l and crow ,
Saw her , at d istance , gl iding slow ,
And d id by M ary swear
Some love-l orn Fay she might have been ,O r , i n Romance , some spel l-bound Queen ;For ne ’er , i n work-day world , was seen
A form so Wi tch ing fair.
1 54 M A A’M /ON
Descended to a feebl e girl
From Red De Clare , s tout Glos ter’s Earl
O i such a s tem , a sapl i ng weak ,
He ne’er shal l bend , although he break .
V .
But see ! what makes th i s armor here ?For i n her path there lay
Targe , cors l e t , helm she view’d them near .
The breast-plate pi erced A y , much I fear,Weak fence wert thou ’gainst foeman ’s spear ,That hath made fatal ent rance here ,As these dark blood-gouts sayThus Wil ton Oh not corsle t ’s ward ,Not truth , as diamond pure and hard ,Could be thy manly bosom
'
s guard ,O h yon d isastrous day !”
She raised her eyes i n mourn ful moodWILTON h imsel f before her stood '
I t m ight have seem ’d h i s pass i ng ghost ,
For every youth ful grace was l ost
And joy unwonted , and surprise‘,
Gave thei r strange wi ldness to h i s eyes .
Expect not , nobl e dames and lords ,That I can tel l such scene i n words
What sk i l fu l l imner e ’er would ch ooseTo pai nt the rai nbow ’s varyi ng hues ,Unless to mortal i t were givenTo dip h i s brush i n dyes of heaven?
M A 1311110114 1 5 5
Far less can my weak l ine d eclareEach changi ng pass ion ’s shade ;Brigh ten ing to rapture from despai r ,Sorrow , surprise , and pi ty th ere ,And joy , with her angel i c ai r ,A nd hope , that pain ts the future fair ,Their varying hues display
’d :
Each o ’er i ts ri val ’s ground extending ,Alternate conqueri ng , sh i ft i ng , b lending ,Til l al l fat igued , th e confl ict yi eld ,And mighty Love retai ns th e field .
Shortly I tel l what then h e said ,By many a tender word de lay
’d ,
And modest blush , and burst ing sigh ,And quest ion ki nd , and fond rep ly
D E WILTON ’
S HISTORY.
Forget we that d isastrous day ,When sensel ess i n th e l is ts I lay.
Thence dragg’d but how l cannot know ,
For sense and recol l e ct i on fled
I found me on a pal le t l ow ,
With i n my anci ent beadsman’s shed .
Austi n remember’
st th ou , my Clare ,How thou didst blush , when the old man ,When first our i nfant l ove began ,Said we would make a matchl ess pair ?
1 56 M A 16111]ON .
M en ials , and fri ends , and k i nsmen fledFrom the degraded trai tor’s bed
He only held my burning head ,And tended me for many a day ,Whil e wounds and fever held thei r sway.
But far more needful was h is care,
When sense returned to wake despai r ;For I d id tear the clos ing wound ,
And dash me franti c on the ground,
I f e ’
er I heard the name of Clare .
A t l ength , to calmer reason brough t ,M uch by h is ki nd attendance wrought ,With h im I l eft my native strand ,And , i n a Palmer
’s weeds array’d ,
M y hated name and form to shade ,I journey
’
d many a land ;No more a l ord of rank and b i rth ,
But m ingled wi th the dregs of earth .
Oft Aust in for my reason fear’d ,
When I would s i t and deeply brood
O n dark revenge , and deeds of blood ,O r wi ld mad sch emes uprear
’
d .
M y fri end at l ength fel l s i ck , and said ,God would remove him soon
And , wh i le upon h i s dyi ng bed ,He begg
’d of me a boon
I f e ’er my deadl i es t enemyBeneath my brand should conquer
’
d l ie ,Even then my mercy shou ld awake ,And spare h is l i fe for Aust i n ’s sake
1 5 8 M A R M I ON .
Brought on a v i l lage tal e ;Which wrought upon h is moody spri te ,And sent him armed forth by night .
I borrow’
d s teed and mail ,And weapons , from h is s leep ing band ;And , pass i ng from a postern door ,We met , and
’countered hand to hand
He fe l l on Gifford moor .
For the death -stroke my brand I drew
(0 th en my helmed head he knew ,
The Palmer ’s cowl was gone) ,Then had three i nches of my blade
The heavy debt of vengeance paid
M y hand the th ought of Austi n staid
I l eft him there alone
0 good old man ! even from the grave
Thy spiri t could thy master save
I f I had slai n my foeman , ne’e r
Had Whitby’s Abbess , i n h er fear ,Given to my hand th is packet dear ,O i power to clear my injured fame ,And vindicate De Wil ton ’s name .
Perchance you heard the Abbess te l l
Of the strange pageantry of Hel l ,That broke our secre t speech
I t rose from the in fernal shade ,Or featly was some juggl e play
’
d,
A tale of peace to teachAppeal to Heaven I judged was best ,When my name came among th e res t .
M A k M /ON .1 59
IX .
Now here , with i n Tantal lon Hold,To Douglas late my tale I to ld ,To whom my house wa s known of o ld .
Won by my proofs , h is fal ch ion brightThis eve anew shal l dub me knight.These were the arms that once did turnThe tide of fight on O tterburne ,And Harry Hotsp ur forced to yi f
‘d,
When the Dead Douglas won the field .
These Angus gave h i s armorer’s care,
Ere morn shal l every breach repai r ;For nough t , he said , was i n h is hal ls ,But ancient armor on the wal ls ,And aged chargers i n th e s tal ls ,And women , pri es ts , and grey-haired men ;The res t were al l i n Twise l gl en .
And now I watch my armor here ,By l aw of arms t i l l m idnigh t
'
s near ;Then , once agai n a bel te d k night ,Seek Surrey’s camp with dawn of l ight .
There soon agai n we meet , my Clare !
This Baron means to guide thee there :
Douglas reveres h is K ing’s command,
Else would h e take thee from h is band .
And there thy kinsman , Surrey , too ,W i l l give De Wil ton Jus tice due .
1 60 M A
Now meeter far for mart ial broi l,
F i rmer my l imbs , and s trung by toi l ,Once more O Wilton I must we thenR i sk new-found happiness again
,
Trust fate of arms once more ?And is there not an humble glen
,
Where we , content and poor ,M igh t bui ld a cottage i n the shade ,A shepherd thou , and I to aidThy task on dale and moor ?
That reddening brow too wel l I l now ,
Not even thy C lare can peace bestow ,
While fal sehood stains thy name ;Go then to fight ! Clare bids thee go !Clare can a warrior ’s feel i ngs know,
And weep a warrior’s shame ;Can Red Earl G i lbert’s spiri t fee l ,Buckle the spurs upon thy heel ,And bel t thee wi th thy b rand of s teel ,And send thee forth to fame
X I .
That nigh t , upon the rocks and bay ,The midnigh t moon-beam slumbering lay ,And pour
’d i ts s i lver l ight , and pure ,
Through loop-hole , and through embrasure ,Upon Tantal lon tower and hal l ;But ch ief where arched windows wideI l luminate the chapel ’s pr ide ,The sober g la nce s fa l l .
1 62 M A A’
M I OM
Some giant Douglas may be foundI n al l h is old array
So pale h is face , so huge h is l imb ,So old h is arms , h is looks so grim.
Then at th e al tar Wi l ton kneels ,And Clare th e spurs bound on h i s heels ;And th ink what next he must have fe l t
,
A t buckl i ng of the falch io n bel t !
And judge how Clara changed her hue ,While fasten ing to her l over’s sideA fri end , which , though i n danger tri ed ,He once had found unt rue
Then Douglas struck h im wi th h is blade
Saint M i chael and Sain t Andrew aid ,I dub thee kn igh t .
Arise , S i r Ralph , De Wil ton’s he ir !
For K ing , for Church , for Lady fai r ,See that thou fight .
”
And Bishop Gawain , as he rose ,Said Wil ton !grieve not fo r thy woe s,Disgrace , and trouble ;For He , who honor best bes tows ,M ay give th ee double .
De Wil ton sobb’d , for sob he must
Where’er I meet a Douglas , trustThat Douglas is my brother !
M A 01V.
Nay , nay ,” old Angus said , not so ;
To Surrey’s camp thou now must go ,
Thy wrongs no‘ l onger smother .
I have two sons i n yonder fie ldAnd , i f thou meet
’st them under sh ield,
Upon them bravely do thy worst ;And foul fal l h im that b lenches first
XI I I .
Not far advanced was morn i ng day,When M armion d id h is troop array
To Surrey’s camp to ride ;He had safe-conduct for h is band ,Beneath the royal seal and hand ,And Douglas gave a guide
The ancien t Earl , with stately grace ,Would Clara o n her pal frey place
,
And whisper’
d i n an under tone,
Let th e hawk s toop , h is prey is flown .
The train from out the cast l e drew ,
But M arm ion stopp’d t o b id adieu
Though someth ing I might plain ,”
said
Of col d respect to stranger guest ,Sent h i ther by your K ing ’s behest ,While i n Tan tallon ’
s towers I staid ;P art we i n fri endsh ip from your land ,And , nobl e Earl , rece ive my band .
”
1 63
1 64 M A A’M /ON .
But Douglas round him drew h is cloak,
Folded h is arms , and thus he spokeM y manors , hal ls , and bowers shal l s t ill
Be open , at my Sovereign’s wi l l
,
To each one whom he l is ts , howe’er
Unmeet to be th e owner’s peer .
M y castl es are my King’s alone ,
From turret to foundat ion-stone
The hand of Douglas i s h is own ;And never shal l i n fri endly grasp
The hand of such as M armion clasp .
XIV .
Burn’d M armion ’s swarthy cheek l ike fire
And shook h is very frame for i re ,And This to me i ” he said
A n’ twere not for thy hoary beard ,
Such hand as M armion ’s had not spared
To cl eave th e Douglas“ head
And , firs t , I tel l th ee , haughty Peer ,He , who does England
’s message here ,Although the meanest i n her s tate ,M ay wel l , proud Angus , be thy mate
A nd , Douglas , more I tel l th ee here ,Even i n thy p itch of pride ,Here i n thy hold , thy vassals near
(Nay , never l ook upon your lord ,
And lay your hands upon your sword) ,I tel l thee , thou
’rt defied !
1 66 M A R M I ON .
Horse hors e the Douglas cri ed ,chase
But soon h e reign’
d hi s fury ’s pace
A royal messenger h e came ,Though most unworthy of th e name .
A let ter forged ! Sai nt Jude to speed !
Did ever knigh t so foul a deed
A t firs t i n h eart i t l ik ed me i l l ,When the K ing praised h is clerkly sk i l l .Thanks to Sai nt Bothan , son of m i ne ,Save Gawain , ne
’er could pen a l i ne ,So swore I , and I swear i t s t i l l ,Let my boy-bishop fret h is hll .
Sain t M ary mend my fiery mood !
O l d age ne ’er cools the Douglas b lood ,I though t to slay h im where he stood .
’T i s pi ty of h im too , ” he criedBold can h e speak and fai rly ride ,I warrant h im a warri or tri ed .
With th is h is mandate h e recal l s ,And slowly seeks h is cast l e hal ls .
XVI
The day i n M armion’s journey woreYet , ere h is pass ions gus t was o
’ er ,They crossed the heights of Stanrig-moor ,His troop more cl osely th ere he scann ’
d ,
And m iss’
d the Palmer from the band .
M A R M I ON . 1 67
P almer or not , ” young Blount d id say,He parted at the peep of day ;Good sooth , i t was i n strange array .
In what array ? said M armion , qui ck .
M y l ord , I i l l can spel l th e trick ;But al l n igh t l ong , with cl ink and bang ,Close to my couch d id hammers clang ;A t dawn the fal l i ng drawbridge rang ,
And from a l oop-hole wh i l e I peep ,O l d Bel l-th e-Cat came from the Keep,Wrapp
’d i n a gown of sables fai r,
As fearfu l of the morni ng air ;Beneath , when that was blown aside ,A rusty sh i rt of mai l I sp ied ,By Archibald won in b loody work ,Against the Saracen and Turk
Last nigh t i t hung not i n the hal l ;I thought some marve l would befal l .
And next I saw them saddl ed l ead
O ld Cheviot forth , th e Earl’s best s teed
A match less h orse , though someth ing old
Prompt i n h is paces , cool and bold .
I heard th e Sherifi”
Sholto say ,The Earl d id much the M aster prayTo use h im on the battl e-day ;But h e preferr
’d Nay , Henry , cease !
Thou sworn horse-courser , hold thy peace .
Eustace , thou bear’st a brai n— I pray
What did Blount see at break of day?
1 68 M A k M /O/V.
XVI I .
In brief, my lord , we both descri ed
(For th en I s tood by Henry’s s ide)
The Palmer mount , and outwards ride ,Upon th e Earl ’s own favori te steed
Al l sheathed he was i n armor bright ,And much resembled that sam e knigh t.
Subdued by you i n Cotswold fight :
Lord Angus wish’d him speed .
”
The instant that F i t z-Eustace spok e ,A sudden l igh t on M armion broke ;Ah !dastard fool , to reason lost
He mutter’d ;
’t was nor fay nor ghost
I met upon the moon l igh t wold ,
But l iv i ng man of earthy mould .
O dotage bl ind and gross !Had I but fought as wont , one thrustHad laid De Wi l ton in the dust ,M y path no more to cross .
How stand we now ?—he to l d h is tal e
To Douglas ; and with some avai l’T was therefore gloom
’d h is rugged brow .
Wil l Surrey dare to entertai n ,’Gainst M armion , charge d isproved and vai n?Smal l ri sk of that , I trow.
Yet Clare’s sharp quest ions mus t I shun ;M ust separate Constance from th e N uh
0 , what a tangl ed web we weave ,When first we practise to deceive !
1 70 M A c f ozv.
The Scott i sh hos t d rawn out appears,
For , flashing on th e hedge of spears
The eastern sunbeam shines .Thei r front , now deepening , now extending
Thei r flank incl i ning , wheel ing , bendi ng ,Now drawing back , and now descendi ng
,
The sk i l ful M armion wel l could know ,
They watch’
d th e motions of some foe,
Who traversed on the plain below .
X IX .
Even so i t was . From F l odden ridgeTh e Scots beh eld th e Engl ish host
Leave Barmore-wood , t hei r evening post ,And heedful watch’
d them as they cross ’
d
The Ti l l by Twise l Bridge .
High sigh t i t i s , and haughty , wh i l e
They d ive i nto the deep defile ;Beneath th e cavern ’
d c lifi” th ey fal l ,
Beneath th e castl e ’s ai ry wal l .
By rock , by oak , by hawthorn-t ree ,Tr00p after troop are di sappearing ;Troop after troop th e i r banners rearing ,
Upon the eastern bank you see .
Sti l l pouri ng down the rocky den ,
Where flows th e sul l en Ti l l ,And ri s i ng from th e dim-wood gl en ,Standards o n standards , men on men ,I n slow success ion s ti l l ,
M A R M I ON . 1 7 1
And , sweepi ng o’er th e Goth ic arch
,
And press i ng on , i n ceasel ess march ,To gain the opposing ‘
hill .
That morn , to many a trumpet clang ,Twise] thy rocks deep echo rang ;And many a ch ie f of b i rth and rank ,Saint Helen ! at thy fountain drank .
Thy hawthorn glade , wh ich now we seeIn spring-tide b loom so lavish ly
,
Had then from many an axe i ts doom,
To give the march i ng columns room .
XX .
And why stands Scotland i‘ dly now,
Dark F l odden ! on thy ai ry brow ,
Si nce England gai ns the pass the wh i l e ,And s truggles th rough the deep defile ?
What checks th e fiery sou l of James ?
Why si ts that champion of th e dames
Inact ive on h is s teed ,And sees , between h im and h i s land ,Between h im and Tweed
'
s southern strand ,His host Lord Surrey l ead ?
What ’Vai l s th e vai n k nigh t-errant’s brand ?
0 , Douglas , for thy l eadi ng wand !
F i e rce Randolph , for thy speed !
0 for one hour of Wal lace Wigh t ,O r wel l-sk ill
‘
d Bruce , to rul e th e fight ,And cry Sain t Andrew and our righ t
1 7 2 M A [eMmM
Another s ight had seen that morn ,
From Fate ’s dark book a l eaf been torn ,And F l odden had been Bannockbourne !
The precious hour has passed in vain ,
And England ’s hos t has gain’d th e plain ;
Wheel i ng the i r march , and circl i ng s t i l l ,Around the base of F l odden h i l l .
XXI .
Ere yet the bands m et M armion ’s eye ,F i t z-Eustace shouted l oud and h igh ,Hark ! hark ! my lord , an Engl ish drum !
And see , ascend ing squadrons comeBetween Tweed ’s river and th e h i l l ,Foot
,horse , and cannon hap what hap ,
M y basnet to a prenti ce cap ,Lord Surrey’s o
'
e r th e Ti l l !
Yet more yet more how far array’d
They nle from out th e hawthorn shade ,And sweep so gal lant by
With al l the i r banners b ravely spread ,And al l thei r armor flash i ng h igh ,
St . George migh t waken from the dead
To see fai r England ’s standards flyStint i n thy prate ,
” quoth Blount, thou’
dst
best ,And l isten to our lord ’s behest .”
With kindl ing brow Lord M arm ion saidTh is i nstant be our band array
’
d ;
I 74 flfA A’
zIf/O IV
And , though far downward driven per force
The southern bank they gain
Behind them , s traggl i ng . came to shore ,As best they migh t , th e t rai n
Each o ’er h i s head h is yew-bow bore,
A caut i on not i n va in ;Deep need that day that every string
,
By wet unharm’
d , should sharply ring .
A moment then Lord M arm i on s taid ,And breathed h is s teed , h is men array
’
d ,
Then forward moved h i s band ,Unti l , Lord Surrey
’s rear-guard won ,He hal ted by a Cross of Stone ,That , on a h i l lock stand ing lone ,Did al l th e fie ld command .
XXI I I .
Hence might th ey see th e ful l array
O i e i th er host , for deadly fray
Their marshall’
d l i nes s tre tch’d east and wes t ,
And fronted north and south
A nd dis tan t salu tat ion pass’
d
From the l oud cannon mouth
Not i n th e cl ose success ive ratt le ,That breathes the voice of modern battl e ,But s l ow and far between .
The h i l lock gain’
d , Lord M arm ion s taid
Here , by th i s Cross ,” he gently said ,
You wel l may v i ew the scene .
M A R M I ON .1 75
Here shal t thou tarry , l ovely Clare
0 ! th i nk of M arm i on i n thy prayer !Thou wi l t not ? wel l no l ess my careShal l , watch ful , for thy weal prepare
You , Blount and Eustace , are her guard ,With ten pick
’d archers of my train ;With England i f the day go hard ,To Berwick speed amain .
But i f we conquer,crue l maid ,
M y spoi l s shal l at your feet be laid ,When here we meet agai n .
”
He waited not for answer there ,And would not mark the maid ’s despai r ,Nor heed the d isconten ted l ookFrom ei ther squ ire ; but spurr
’
d amain,
A nd dash i ng th rough the bat tl e p lain,
Hi s way to Surrey took .
XXIV .
The good Lord M armion , by my l i fe !Welcome to danger ’s hour
Short greet ing serves i n t ime of st ri fe !
Thus have I ranged my power
M yse l f wi l l ru l e th is central host ,Stou t Stanl ey fronts th ei r righ t ,
M y sons command the vaward post ,With Brian Tunstal l , s tainl ess kn igh t ,Lord Dacre , wi th h i s h orsemen l igh t ,Shal l be i n rear-ward of the fight ,
1 76 M A R M I O/V.
And succor those that need i t most .Now , gal lan t M armion , wel l I knowWould gladly to the vanguard go ;Edmund , the Admiral , Tunstal l there ,
With thee the i r charge w i l l b l i the ly share ;There figh t th ine own retainers too
Beneath De Burg , thy s teward true .
Thanks , nobl e Surrey M armion said ,Nor farther greet ing there he paid ;But , part i ng l ike a thuh derbolt ,First i n th e vanguara made a hal t
Where such a snout there roseO i M arm ion ! M arm ion that the cry ,Up F l odden mountain sh ri l l ing h igh ,Start led th e Scott ish foes .
XXV .
Blount and l* 1tz -Eustace rested st i l lWith Lady Clare upon the h i l l !
O h which (for far th e day was spent)The western sunbeams now were bent .The cry th ey heard , i ts meaning knew ,
Could plai n the i r d istant comrades v i ew ;Sadly to Bloun t did Eustace say ,Unworthy office here to s tay !
N o hope of gi lded spurs to-dayBut see ! l ook up—on F l odden bent
The Scott ish foe has fired h is tent .”
And sudden , as he spoke ,
1 78 M A l eM l ozv.
And , first , the ridge of mingled spearsAbove the brigh ten ing cloud appears ;And i n the smoke the pennons flew ,
As i n th e s torm the whi te sea-mew .
Then mark’d they , dash ing broad and far,
The broken b i l lows of th e war ,And plumed crests of Ch ieftai ns brave ,F l oat ing l ike foam upon the wave ;But nough t dis t inct they see :
Wide raged the battl e on the plai n ;Spears shook , and fal ch ions flash
’
d amai n ;Fel l England ’s arrow-fl ight l ike rain ;Crests rose , and stoop
’
d , and rose again ,Wild and disorderly .
Amid the scene of tumul t , h igh
They saw Lord M armion ’s falcon flyAnd stainless Tuns tall’s banner wh i te ,And Edmund Howard ’s l ion brigh t
S ti l l bear them bravely i n the fight ,Although agains t them come
O i gal lant Gordons many a one ,And many a s tubborn H igh landman ,And many a rugged Border clan ,With Huntly , and wi th Home .
XXVI I .
Far on the l eft unseen the wh i l e ,Stanley broke Lennox and Argy l e
M A R M I ON . 1 79
Though there the western mounta i neer
Rush ’d with bare bosom on the spear ,And flung the feeb l e targe as ide ,And wi th both hands the broadsword pl i ed .
”Twas vai n —But Fortune , on the right ,With fickle smi l e , cheer
’d Scotland ’s fight.Then fel l that spotl ess banner whi te ,The Howard ’s li on fel l ;Yet s ti l l Lord M armion’s falcon flewWith wavering fl igh t , wh il e fiercer grewAround the battl e-yel l .
The Border sl ogan rent the sky !
A Home ! a Gordon was the cry
Loud were th e clanging blows ;Advanced , forced back , now l ow now high
,
The pennon sunk and rose ;As bends the bark’s mast i n the gal e ,When rent are rigging , shrouds , and sai l ,I t waver’d mid the foes .
No longer B lount th e View cou ld bear ;By Heaven , and al l i ts sal nts I swear
I wi l l not see i t l ost
F i t z-Eustace , you wi th Lady Clare
M ay bid your beads , and pa tter prayer—o
I gal lop to th e host .”
And to th e fray he rode amain ,F ollow
’d by al l th e archer trai n .
The fiery youth wi th desperate charge
M ade , for a space , an opening large
The rescued banner rose
1 80 M A R M I ON .
But dark ly cl osed th e war around ,Like pi ne-tree rooted from the ground
,
I t sunk among th e foes .
Then Eustace mounted too yet s taid ,A s l oth to leave th e helpl ess maid
When , fas t as shaft can fly,Blood -shot h i s eyes , h is nostri l s sp read ,The loose re ign dangl ing from h is head ,Housing and saddl e bloody red ,Lord M arm ion ’s steed rush ’d by ;
And Eustace , maddening at the s igh t ,A look and s ign to Clara cas tTo mark he would return i n haste ,Then plunged i nto the fight .
XXVI I I .
Ask me not what th e maiden feel s ,Left i n that dreadful hour alone
Perchance her reason stoops . or reels ;Perchance a courage , not her own ,
Braces her m ind to desperate tone .
The scatter’
d van of England wheels
She only said , as loud i n ai r
The tumul t roar’d , I s Wilton there
They fly, or. madden’
d by despai r ,F igh t but to die I s Wi lton there ?”
With that , st raigh t up the h i l l there rode
Two horsemen drenched with gore ,And i n thei r arms , a hel pl ess l oad ,A wounded knight they bore .
1 82 M A R iw ozv.
Tunstal l l ies dead upon the field ,
His l i fe-blood stains the spot less sh ield,
Edmund is down my l ife i s reft ;The Adm i ral alone i s l eft .
Let Stan ley charge with spur of fireWith Chester charge , and Lancash i re ,Ful l upon Scot land
'
s central host ,O r victory and England ’s l os t .
M ust 1 bid twice ? hence , varle ts fly'
Leave M armion here alone to di e
They parted , and alone he lay ;Clare drew her from the s igh t away
,
Ti l l pain wrung forth a l owly moan ,And half he murmur
’
d I s there none ,O i al l my hal ls have nurs t ,Page , squi re , or groom , one cup to bri ng
O i blessed water from the spring ,To slake my dy ing th i rs t ?
XXX.
0 , Woman ! i n our hours of ease ,Uncertain , coy , and hard to pl ease ,And variab le as the shade
By the l ight qu iveri ng aspen made ;When pai n and anguish wring the brow,
A m i n is teri ng angel thou
Scarce were the pi teous accents said ,When , wi th the Baron’s casque , the maid
M A R M I OZV.
To the nigh s treamlet ranForgot were hatred , wrongs , and fears ;The plaint ive vo i ce alone she hears ,Sees but the dyi ng man .
She s toop’
d her by the runne l’s s ide ,But i n abhorrence backward drew ;For , oozing from the mountai n
’s side ,Where raged the war , a dark-red t ide
Was curdl i ng i n the streamlet b lue .
Where shal l she turn ? behold her mark
A l it tl e fountai n ce l l ,Where water , clear as d iamond-spark ,I n a stone basi n fel l .
Above , some hal f-worn letters say ,Brink h narg p i lgrim Drink anti mag.
£0: the kinn 2q of fi ght! (151m.
Elwin bui lt this truss anti melt.
She fill’d the helm , and back she h ied ,And with surprise and joy espied
A M onk support i ng M armion’s head
A pious man , whom duty brought ,To dubious verge of battl e fought ,To shrieve th e dyi ng , bless the dead .
XXXI .
Deep drank Lord M armion of the wave ,And , as she stoop
’d h is brow to lave
1 83
1 84 M A R M I ON .
Is i t the hand of Clare ,” he said ,O r i njured Constance , bathes my head?
”
Then , as remembrance rose
Speak not to me of shri ft or prayer !I must redress her woes .
Short space , few words , are m ine to spare ;Forgive and l is ten , gentle Clare
Alas 3” she said , the whi le
0 , th i nk of your immortal weal
I n vai n for Constance is your zeal
She d ied at Holy I sl e .
”
Lord M armion started from the ground ,As l igh t as i f he fel t no wound !
Though i n th e action burs t the t ideI n torrents , from his wounded s ide
Then i t was truth he said I knewThat the dark pressage must be true .
I would the F i end , to whom belongsThe vengeance due to al l her wrongs ,Would spare me but a day !
For wast i ng fire , and dying groan ,And pries ts s lai n on th e al tar-stone ,M igh t bribe h im for del ay .
I t may not be —th i s d i z zy tranceCurse on yon base marauder’s lance ,And doub ly cursed my fai l ing brand !
A sinful heart makes feebl e hand .
”
Then , faint ing . down on earth he sunk ,Supported by the trembl ing M onk .
1 86 M A R M I ON .
Charge , Chester , charge ! On , S tanley ,Were the last words of M armion .
XXXII I .
By th is , though deep the evening fe ll ,St i l l rose the batt le ’s dead ly swel l ,For s t i l l the Scots , around the i r K ing ,Unbroken , fough t i n desperate r ing .
Where ’s now their v ictor vaward wing ,Where Huntly , and where Home ?
0 , for a b las t of that dread horn ,O n Fontarabian echoes borne ,That to K ing -Charles d id come ,When Rowland brave , and O l iver,And every palad i n and peer,On Roncesval l es d ied
Such blas t migh t warn them , not in vain,
TO qui t th e plunder of th e slain ,And turn the doubtful day again ,While yet o n F l odden s ide ,Afar , th e Royal S tandard fl i es ,And round i t to i ls , and b leeds , and dies ,Our Caledonian pride I
In vai n the wish for far away ,While spoi l and havoc mark their way ,Near Syb i l’s Cross the plunderers stray .
0 , Lady ,” cried th e M onk , away !”
And placed her on her steed ,
M A 1 87
And led her to the chape l fai r ,O i Tillmouth upon Tweed .
There al l the nigh t they spent i n prayer ,And at the dawn of morn ing , there
She met her k insman,Lord Fitz -Clare .
XXXIV .
But as they left the dark’n ing heath ,
M ore desperate grew the stri fe of death .
The Engl ish shafts i n vol l eys hail’d
In head long charge thei r horse assai l’d ;Front
,flank , and rear , th e squadrons sweep
To break the Scott ish circl e deep ,That fough t around the ir K ing .
But yet , though thi ck the shafts as snow ,
Though chargi ng knights l ike wh irlwi nds go,Though bi l l-men ply the ghast ly blow ,
Unbroken was th e ring ;The s tubborn spear-men st i l l made good
Thei r dark impenetrab l e wood,
Each stepping where h is comrade stoodThe instant that h e fel l .
No thought was there of dastard fl igh t ;Link ’d i n th e serri ed phalanx t ight ,Groom fought l ike nob le , squire l ike knight,As fearlessly and wel l ;Ti l l utter dark ness closed her wing
O’er thei r th in hos t and wounded King .
1 88 M A A’M I ON .
Then ski l fu l Surrey'
s sage commands
Led back from stri fe h is shatter’d bands ;And from the charge they drew ,
As mountai n-waves , from wasted lands ,Sweep back to ocean blue .
Then did thei r loss h is foeman know ;Thei r K ing , thei r Lords , the i r m igh t iest l ow ,
They m e l ted from the fie ld as snow ,
When streams are swol n and south winds blowr
Dissolves i n s i len t dew .
Tweed ’s echoes heard the ceaseless plash ,While many a broken band ,
D isorder’d , th rough her curren ts dash ,
To gai n th e Scott ish land ;To town and tower , to down and dale ,To te l l red F lodden ’s d ismal tale ,And raise th e un iversal wai l .
Trad it ion,l egend , tune , and song
Shal l many an age that wai l prolong
Sti l l from the s ire the son shal l hear
O i the stern stri fe , and carnage drear ,O i F l odden ’s fatal fie ld ,
Where shiver’d was fai r Scotland’s spear
A nd broken was her sh ie ld
XXXV .
Day dawns upon th e moun tai n ’s s ideThere , Scotland ! lay thy bravest pride ,
1 90 M A R M I ON .
’T was levell’d when fanati c BrookThe fai r cathedral storm ’
d and took ;But , thanks to Heaven and good Saint Chad,A guerdon meet th e spoi l er had
There ers t was martial M armion foundHis feet upon a couchant hound
,
His hands to h eaven upraised ;And
‘
al l around , on scutcheon rich ,
And tablet carved , and fretted n iche ,His arms and feats were blazed .
And yet , though al l was carved so fai r ,And pri es t for M armion b reathed the prayer,The last Lord M armion lay not there .
F rom Ettri ck woods a peasan t swai nFollow
’
d h is lord to F l odden plai n
One of those flowers , whom plai nti ve lay
I n Scotland mourns as wede away
S ore wounded , Sybi l’s Cross h e spied ,
And dragg’d h im to i ts foot , and died
Close by the nob le M arm ion ’s s ide .
The spoi l ers s tripp’d and gash
’d th e s lai n ,
And thus the i r corpses were m is ta’
en ;
And thus , i n the proud Baron’s tomb ,
The lowly woodsman took the room
XXXVI I .
Less easy task i t were , to show
Lord M armion ’s nameless grave , and low.
They dug his grave e ’en where he lay ,
M A R M I ON .1 9 1
But every mark i s gone ;Time ’s wast i ng hand has done awayThe s impl e Cross of Syb i l Grey ,And broke her font of stone
But yet from ou t the l i tt l e h i l l
Oozes the slender springlet s t i l l .
O ft hal ts the s tranger there ,For thence may best h is curious eyeThe memorabl e fie ld descry ;And shepherd boys repai r
To seek th e water-flag and rush ,And rest them by th e haze l bush ,And plai t the i r garlands fai r ;Nor dream they s i t upon the grave
That holds th e bones of M armion brave .
When thou shal t find th e l i ttl e h i l l,
With thy heart commune , and be s ti l l .I f ever , i n temptation strong ,Thou left’s t the righ t path for the wrong ;I f every devious s tep , thus trod ,St i l l led thee further from the road ;Dread thou to speak presumptuous doomO h nobl e M armion’s lowly tombBut say , He died a gal lant knight ,Wi th sword i n hand , for England ’s right .”
XXXVI I I .
I do not rhyme to that dul l e l f,Who cannot image to h imsel f,
1 92 M A /eMm/v.
That al l through Flodden’s d ismal night ,Wil ton was foremost i n the fight ;That , when brave Surry’s s teed was s lai n ,’T was Wil ton mounted him agai n ;’T was Wi lton’s brand that deepest hew’
d
Amid the spearman ’s s tubborn wood ;Unnamed by Hol l i nshed or Hal l ,He was the l i ving soul of al l ;That , after fight , h is fai th made plai n ,He won h is rank and lands again ;And charged h is old paternal sh iel d
Wi th bearings won on F l odden F i e l d .
Nor sing I to that s impl e maid ,To whom i t mus t i n terms be said
That K ing and kinsmen did agree ,TO bless fai r Clara’s constancy ;Who cannot , unl ess I relate ,Pai nt to h er mi nd the bridal ’s state ;That Wolsey
’
s voi ce th e bless ing spoke ,M ore , Sands , and Denny , pass
’d th e j oke ;
That bluff K ing Hal th e curtain drew ,
And Catherine ’ s hand the s tocki ng threw ;And afterwards , for many a day ,That i t was held enough to say ,In b lessi ng to a wedded pai r ,Love they l ike W i lto n and l ike Clare !”
1 94 M A [6111101V.
NOTES .
He scatter’d angels rou nd
,
”
p . 186. Gold co in of theper i od , worth abou t 1 05 .
T/ze victor slzore,
”
p . 238 .—A h a l lusion to the batt le
of Copenhagen , 1 80 1 .
A r chiba ld B el l—t/ze-Ca t , p . 2 78 . A rch ibal d D ouglas,Earl of A ngus , a man remarkable for s t rengt h of body andm i n d
,acqu i red the popu lar name of Be l l—the-Cat u pon the
fol l ow i ng remarkab le occas i on -james the Th i rd,of
wh om P i tsco t t ie comp la i ns that he de l igh ted more in
mu sic, and pol ic ies of bu i l d ing,” than in hun t ing , hawking, and other n ob le exerc ises
,was so i l l adv ised as to
make favori tes of his arch i tects and mu s ic ians , wh om the
same h istorian i rreveren t ly terms masons and fiddlers . Hisnob i l i ty, who d i d n ot sympat h i z e i n the K i ng’
s respect forthe fine arts
,were ex t reme ly i n censed at the h onors con
ferred on th ose persons , par t icu larly on Cochrane , a mason ,who had been created E ar l of M ar and se i z i ng the opportunity when , i n 1 482 , the K ing had convoked the wholearray of the coun t ry t o march agai n st the E ngl ish , theyhe l d a m idn igh t counc i l i n the chu rch of Lau der , for the
purpose of forc ibly rem ov i ng these m i n i ons from the
K i ng’s person . When all had agreed on the p rop riety of
th i s measu re,Lord G ray t ol d the assembly the apo logue of
the M ice , who had formed a reso l u t i on that it wou l d beh igh ly advan tageous t o the i r commun i ty to t ie a be l l roun dthe cat ’s n eck
,t ha t t h ey m igh t hear her approach at a dis
tance ; bu t wh ich pub l ic measu re un for tu nate ly m iscarr ied ,from no mou se be ing Wi l l i ng t o under take the task of
fasten ing the be l l . “ I u nderstand the mora l ,” sai d A ngus ,“and that what we p ropos e may n ot lack execu t i on, I wi l l
beI I -t/ze-cat .”
HEN R Y A LTEM US ’ PUBL I CA TI O N S .
A LTEM U S’
Y O U N G P E O P LE S’
L I B R A R Y
P RI CE FI FTYCENTS EACH.
ROB IN SON CR USO E : (Chiefly in words of one sy l lab le) .H is l ife and s trange
,surpris ing a dventures , w i th 70
beautiful i l lus tra t ions by W'
a l te r I’ age t .
A L ICE ’
S A DVE N TURE S I N W ONDERLAND ,w i th
42 i l lus tra t ions by j ohn Tennie l . The mos t de l ightfulof children ’
s s torie s . E legant and de l ic ious nonsense .
—Sa tu r day R eview .
THROUGH THE LO OK IN G-GLA SS A N D W HA TA L ICE F OUND THERE ; a companion to A l icein Wonderland
,
"
wi th 50 i l lus tra t ions by j ohn Tennie l .
BUNYAN ’S P ILGRIM '
S PROGRE S S ,w i th 50 ful l page
and tex t i l lus tra t ions .
A CH ILD ’
S STORY O F THE B IB LE ,w i th 72 ful l page
i l lus tra t ions .
A CH ILD '
S L IFE O F CHRIST ,w i th 49 i l lus tra tions .
God ha s implan ted in the infan t heart a des ire to hea ro f Je sus
,and chi ldren are e arly a ttrac ted and sw e e t ly
rive ted by the w onde rful S tory of the M as te r from the
M ange r to the Throne .
SW IS S FA M ILY R O B I N SO N ,w ith so illustra tions . The
fa the r of the fam i ly te l ls the ta le of the v ic iss itude sthrough w hich he and his w ife and chi ldren pass
,the
w onde rful discoverie s made and dangers encounte red .The book is ful l of inte res t and instruc tion .
CHRISTO PHER COLUM BUS A N D THE D I SCOVE R Y O F A M E RICA ,
w i th 70 i l lus tra t ions . Eye ryA me rican boy and girl should be a cqua inted w i th thes tory of the l ife o f the grea t discoverer
,w ith its st rug
gle s,adven tures
,and tria ls .
THE STO RY O F EXPLORA T ION A N D D ISCOVERYI N A FRICA ,
w i th 80 i l lus tra t ions . Re cords the e x
p er ien ces of adventures and discoveries in deve lopingthe Da rk Continent ,
”
from the early days o f Bruceand M ungo Park down to Livings tone an d S tan ley,and the he roe s of our own t ime s . N o present can bemore acceptab le than such a volume as th is
,where
courage , intrepidity , re source , and devot ion are so
adm irably m ingled .
HEN R Y A LTEM US’ PUBL I CA T I O N S .
A l tem u s’ Yo ung Pee p l e s ’
L ib ra ry—c on t i n u ed .
THE F ABLES O F I E SO P . Compiled from the bes taccepted source s . \V i th 62 i l lus tra tions . The fable s ofE sop are among the very e a rlie s t c ompos i tions of thisk ind , a nd probably have ne ve r be en surpasse d for pointand brev i ty .
GULL IVE R ’
S TRA VE LS . A dapted for young reade rs .
Wi th 50 i l lus tra t ions .
M OTHER GO O SE’S RHYM ES , j I N GLE S A N D
FA I RY TA LE S ,w i th 2 34 i l lus tra tions .
L IVES O F THE PRES IDEN TS O F THE UN ITEDSTA TE S . by Pre scott Holme s . Wi th portra i ts o f
the Pres idents and a lso of the unsucce ssfu l candida te sfor the office ; as w e l l as the ab les t of the Cab ine t offic ers . I t is jus t the book for inte l l igen t boys , and i tw i l l he lp to make them i nte l l igen t and pa triotic c i tiz ens .
THE STORY O F A DVE N TURE I N THE FROZ E NSEAS
,w i th 70 i l lustra t ions . By Prescot t Holme s .
We have he re brought t oge the r the re cords of the
a ttempts to reach the N orth Pole . The book show s
how much can be accomplished by s teady perseve ranceand indom i tab le pluck .
ILLUSTRA TED NATURAL H ISTORY , by the R ev . J .
G . Wood , w ith 80 i l lus tra t ions . This au thor ha s donemore to populari z e the s tudy of na tura l h is tory thanany othe r w ri ter. The i l lustra tions are s trik ing andl ife -l ike .
A CH ILD ’S H ISTORY O F ENGLAND , by Charle s
D ickens , w i th 50 i l lus tra t ions . Tired of l is tening tohis children memoriz e the twaddle of old fashionedEnglish his tory the author c ove red the ground in hisown peculiar and happy s ty le for his own ch i ldren ’ suse . When the work was publ ishe d i ts success was
ins tantaneous .
BLACK B EA UTY , THE A UTOB IOGRA PHY O F AHORSE , by A nna Sewe l l , w i th 5 0 i l lus tra t ions . Aw ork sure to e duca te boys and girls to trea t w i th k indness all membe rs of the anima l k ingdom . Re cogniz e das the grea tes t s tory of anima l l ife e xtant .
THE ARAB IAN N IGHTS E N TERTA IN M E N TS ,
w i th 1 30 i l lus trat ions . Con ta ins the mos t favorablyknown of the s torie s .
HEN R Y A LTEM US ’ PUBL I CA T I O N S .
A LTE M U S’D EV O T I O N A L S E R I E S .
S ta nda r d Re l igi ous L i t e ra t u re A pp r op r iate ly Boun d inHan dy Vol um e S i z e . Eac h Vol um e c on ta in sI l l um i na t e d T it l e , Port ra it of A u t h or
and A pp rop r ia te I l l us t ra tion s .
WHI TE VELLUM , SI LVER AND MONOTINT,
BOXED , EACH F IFTYCEN TS.
KEPT FOR THE M A STER ’S U SE ,
by Frances R idleyHaverga l . Wi l l pe rpe tua te he r name .
M Y K IN G A N D H I S SERV ICE ,O R DA ILY
THOUGHTS F O R THE K IN G ’
S CH ILDRE N ,
by Franc e s R i dley Haverga l . S imple , tende r , gentle ,and ful l of Chri s tia n love .
”
M Y PO IN T O F V IEW . Se lec tions from the works ofProfe ssor Henry D rummond .
O F THE IM ITA T I ON O F CHRIST ,by Thomas
A Kempis . Wi th the e xception o f the B ib le i t isprobab ly the book mos t read in Chris tian l ite ra ture
ADDRESSES,by Profe ssor H enry Drummond . Inte l
lige n t sympa thy w i th the Chris tian’
s n ee d .
”
NATURAL LAW I N THE S P IRITUA L W ORLD,
by Profe ssor Henry D rummond .
“ A m os t notab lebook wh ich has ea rne d for the author a world-w idere pu ta t .0n .
ADDRESSES , by the R ev . Phil 'ips Brooks . Has
e xe rte d a ma rke d influenc e ove r the ris ing gene ra t ion .
"
A B IDE I N CHRI ST . Thoughts on the Blessed Life ofFe l low ship W i th the Son o f God . By the R ev . A ndrewM urray . I t c annot fa i l to s t imula te and che e r .St u rg eon .
L IKE CHRIS T . Thoughts on the Ble ssed Life of Confo rm i ty 10 the Son o f God . By the R ev . A ndrewM urray . A s eque l t o A bide i n Christ . ” M ay beread w i th comfort and edifica t ion by a ll .
W ITH CHRIST I N THE SCHO O L O F PRAYER,
by the R ev A ndrew M urray .
“ The best work onpraye r in the language .
HEN R Y A LTEM US ’ PUBL I CAT I O N S .
A LTE M U S’
N EW I LL U STR A TE D
V A D E M ECUM S E R I E S .
M as te rp iece s ofEng l ish and A m e r ica n Literatu re ,Han dy
Vol um e S iz e , La rge Type Ed i t i on s . Eac h Vol um e
Con ta i n s I l lum i nate d T i t le Pag e s , and Port ra itof A u t h o r and N um e rous Eng rav ings
Ful l C lo th , ivory fin ish , ornam enta l in la id s ide s and back,
boxedFul l White Ve l lum
,ful l s i lve r and monotint
,boxed
1 CRANF ORD,by M rs . Gaske l l .
2 A w m now I N THRUM S ,by J . M . Ba rrie .
3 R A B A N D H I S FRIEN DS , M A RJORIE FLEMI N G ,
ETC . , by John Brown , M . D .
4 THE V ICA R O F WA KE F IELD,by O l ive r Goldsmi th .
THE IDLE THOUGHTS O F A N IDLE FELLOW,
by J e rom e K . J e rom e . A book for an idle hol iday .
”
TALES FROM SHA K S P EA R E,by Charle s and M ary
Lamb,w i th an introduc tion by the R ev . A lfred A inger
,
M . D .
SESAM E A N D L IL IE S,by John Rusk in .
Thre e Lec ture s—I . O f the King ’ s Treasure s . I I . O fQueen
’
s Garden . I I I . O f the M ys te ry of L ife .
THE E TH ICS O F THE D U ST ,by John R usk in . T en
le c ture s to l i tt le housew ive s on the e lem e nts of c ry s ta liz a tion .
THE PLEASURES O F L I FE, by Sir j ohn Lubbock .
Lomple te in one volume .
THE SCARLET L ETTER , by N a thanie l Haw thorne ,
1 1 THE HOUSE O F THE SEVE N GABLES,by
N a thanie l Haw thorne .
1 2 M OSSE S FROM A N O L D MANSE,by N a thanie l
Haw thorne .
A l t em u s ’
N ew I l lu s t ra t e d Va d em e c um S e r ie sc o n t i n u e d .
13 TW ICE TALES,by N a thanie l Haw thorne .
TH E ESSAYS O F F R A N C I Q. (LORD ) BACONW ITH M EM O I RS A N D N OTE S .
ESSAYS,Firs t Se rie s
,by Ra lphWa l do Eme rson .
ESSAYS, Second Se rie s , by Ra lph W
'
a ldo Eme rson .
RE PRE S E N TA T IVE M E N ,by R a lphWa l do Emers on .
M enta l portra i ts e tch repre sent ing a c la ss . 1 . l he
Ph i losophe r . 2 .
'
I he M y st ic . 3 . The SLept ic . 4 . ThePoe t . 5 The M an of the World . 6 . The Wr i te r .
THOUGHTS O F THE E M PE RO R M ARCU S
IA U R EL I U S A N TO N IN US
,trans lated by George
ong .
THE D ISCOURSE S O F EP ICTETUS W ITH THEE N CH IR ID IO N ,
trans la te d by George Long .
O F THE IM ITA TI ON O F CHRIST , by Thomas
A ‘Ke rnp is . Four books c omple te i n one volume .
AD D RESSES , by Profe ssor Henry D rummond The
Grea te s t Thing i n the World ; P ax Vob iscum ; The
t hanged Life ; How to Learn How ; De a l ing Wi thD oubt ; Prepa ra t ion for Learning ; Wha t i s a Christ ian ; The S tudy of the Bib le A Ta lk on Books .
LETTERS , SEN TE N CE S A N D M A X IM S , by LordLhe ste rfie ld M as te rpie c es of good tas te
,good w ri ting
and good sense .
REVERIE S O F A BACHELOR . A book of the
hea r t . By I k M arve l .DREAM L IFE ,
by I k M arve l . A companion to Reve .
r ie s of a Bache lor .SA RTOR R E SA R TUS
,by Thomas Car ly le .
HEROES A N D HERO WORSH IP , by Thomas Carly le .
UN CLE TOM ’
S CA B IN , by Harrie t Bee che r S towe .
ESSAYS O F EL IA , by Charles Lamb .
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HEN R Y A LTEM US’ PUBL I CA T I O N S .
A l t em u s ' N ew I l l u s t ra t e d Va dem e c um S e r i e sc o n t i n u e d .
M Y PO IN T O F V IEW . Representa t ive se lec t ions fromthe works o f Profe ssor Henry Drummond byWi l l iamShepard .
THEl
SKETCH B O OK,by W'
ashington I rv ing. c om
p e te .
KE PT F O R THE M A STE R ’
S U SE ,by France s
R idley Haverga l .
LUC ILE,by Owen M e redith .
LA LLA ROO KH,by Thomas M oore .
THE LA D Y O F THE L A KE,by Sir Wa l te r Scott .
M A RM ION ,by SirWa l te r Scot t .
THE PRIN CE S S ; A N D M A U D ,by A lfred (Lord)
T ennyson .
CH I L D E HA RO LD ’
S P ILGR IM AGE ,by Lord
Byron .
IDYLL S O F TH E K I N G,by A lfred (Lord) Tennyson .
EV A N GEL IN E ,by Henry Wadsw orth Longfe l low ,
VO ICE S O F THE N IGHT A N D O THER P OEM S ,by Henry Wadsworth Longfe l low .
THE QUEE N O F THE A I R , by j ohn R usk in . As tudy of the Gre ek my ths o f c loud and s torm .
THE BELF RY O F B R UGE S A N D O THERP O E M S , by Henry Wadswor th Longfe l low .
P OEM S , Volume I,by John Gre en le af
P O EM S,Volume 11
,by Johfi Gre en le af W' hi tt ie r .
HEN R Y A LTEMUS ’ PUBL I CA T I O N S .
A l t em u s ’N ew I l l u s t ra t e d Va dem e c um S e ri e s
c o n t i n u e d .
THE ROM ANCE O F A POOR YOUN G M A N ,
O c tave Feui l le t .
BLACK B E A UTY,by A nna Sewe l l .
CAM ILLE,by A lexander D umas
, Jr .
THE L IGHT O F A s iA ,by S ir Edw in A rnold .
J
THE LAYS O F A N C IE N T ROM E,by Thomas
Bab ington M acaulay .
THE CON FE S S IO N S O F A N E N GL ISH O P I UME A TE R ,
by Thoma s D e Quincey .
TREA SURE ISLA N D ,by R obert L . Stever1son .
CARM EN,by Prospe r M e rime e .
A S E N T IM EN TA L j O U R N EY , by Laurence S te rne .
THE B L I THE D A LE RO M A N CE , by N athanielHaw th orne .
B A Bl€A LLA D S , A N D SAVOY SON GS ,
by W. H .
G i e rt.
FA N CHON,THE CRICKET , by George Sand .
P OE M S ,by Jame s Russe l l Low e l l .
j OHN PLOUGHM AN ’S TA LK by the R ev . CharlesH . Spurgeon.
j OHN PLOUGHM A N’
S P ICTURE S ,by the R ev .
Charle s H . Spurge on .
THE M A N L IN E SS O F CHRIST , by ThomasHughes .
ADDRESSES TO YOUN G M E N,by the R ev . Henry
\Vard Be eche r .
THE A UTOCRA T O F THE BREAK FASTTA B LE ,
by O l ive r Wende l l Holme s .
HEN R Y A LTEMUS’ PUBLI CA TI ON S .
A l tem u s’N ew I l lu s t rat e d Va d em e c um S e r i e s
c on t i n u e d .
MULVANEY STORIE S ,by R udyard Kipl ing .
BALLAD S,by Rudyard Kipl ing .
M ORN IN G THOUGHTS ,by France s R idley Havergal .
TE N N IGHTS I N A BAR ROOM ,by T . 5 . A rthur .
EVEN IN G THOUGHTS ,by Franc e s R idley Havergal .
I N MEMO R IAM ,by Alfred (Lord) Tennyson .
CO M IN G TO CHRIST , by France s R idley Havergal .
HOUSE O F THE WO LF , by StanleyWeyman
AM ER ICAN POL IT ICS (non-P art i s an l , by Hon . Thomas
V . Coope r. A his tory of a l l the Pol it ica l Partie s w i th the irv iews and records on a ll important q ues tions . A ll pol i tica lp latforms from the beginning to date . Grea t Speeche s onGrea t issues . Parl iamentary Prac tice and tabula ted his toryof chronologica l events . A l ibrary w i th ou t this work is defi c ient . 8vo .
, 750 pages . C loth , Full Sheep Librarys ty le
,
N AM ES FOR CH ILDREN ,by E l isabe th Rob inson Scov i l
,
author of The Care o f Chi ldren , ” Prepara tion for
M otherhood . In fam i ly l ife there is no q ue st ion ofgreaterw e igh t or importance than nam ing the baby . The authorgive s much good adv ice and many sugges t ions on the subjce t . C loth , 1 2mo .
, .40 .
TRIF A N D TRIXY , by John Habberton, author of “ He len ’ s
Bab ie s . The s tory is reple te w i th v iv i d and spiritedscenes and is i nc omparab ly mos t del ightfu l w ork M r Habberton C loth ,
5 .3 5 .