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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:24:47 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:24:47 -0700 |
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diff --git a/5077-h/5077-h.htm b/5077-h/5077-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a36c085 --- /dev/null +++ b/5077-h/5077-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14941 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> +<title>Marmion</title> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 5077 ***</div> + +<h2>MARMION:</h2> + +<h3>A TALE OF FLODDEN FIELD<br> +IN SIX CANTOS</h3> + +<h2>BY<br> +SIR WALTER SCOTT</h2> + +<h4>EDITED<br> +WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES<br> +BY THOMAS BAYNE</h4> + +<h2>EDITOR’S PREFACE.</h2> + +<h2>I. SCOTT AT ASHESTIEL.</h2> + +<p> +Sir Walter Scott’s love of the country induced him, +after his marriage in 1797, to settle in a cottage at the pretty +village of Lasswade, near Edinburgh. Four years after leaving +this district he took Mr. Morritt of Rokeby to see the little +dwelling, telling him that, though not worth looking at, +‘it was our first house when newly married, and many a +contrivance it had to make it comfortable.’ He then +enumerated various devices, by which he had secured for Mrs. +Scott and himself what seemed to both, at the time, additional +convenience and elegance in and about their home. His +reminiscences culminated in an account of an arch over the +gate-way, which he had constructed by fastening together the tops +of two convenient willows and placing above them ‘a cross +made of two sticks.’ This is very beautiful and +characteristic; and there is much freshness and charm in the +further picture of the young cottagers rejoicing over the success +of the arrangements. ‘To be sure,’ Scott concluded, +‘it is not much of a lion to show a stranger; but I wanted +to see it again myself, for I assure you after I constructed it, +Mamma (Mrs. Scott) and I both of us thought it so fine, we turned +out to see it by moonlight, and walked backwards from it to the +cottage-door in admiration of our own magnificence and its +picturesque effect.’ It was his way to invest his +circumstances with an interest over and above what intrinsically +belonged to them, and to prompt his friends to a share in his +delight.<br> +<br> +When, in 1804, Scott was appointed Sheriff of Selkirkshire, a +condition attaching to his post was that he should reside during +part of the year within the bounds of his sheriffdom. He then +removed from Lasswade, and settled at Ashestiel on the Tweed, +seven miles from Selkirk. This is his own account of the new +home:--<br> +<br> +‘We found a delightful retirement, by my becoming the +tenant of my intimate friend and cousin-german, Colonel Russell, +in his mansion of Ashestiel, which was unoccupied during his +absence on military service in India. The house was adequate to +our accommodation, and the exercise of a limited hospitality. +The situation is uncommonly beautiful, by the side of a fine +river, whose streams are there very favourable for angling, +surrounded by the remains of natural woods, and by hills +abounding in game. In point of society, according to the +heartfelt phrase of Scripture, we dwelt “amongst our own +people”; and as the distance from the metropolis was only +thirty miles, we were not out of reach of our Edinburgh friends, +in which city we spent the terms of the summer and winter +Sessions of the Court, that is, five or six months in the +year.’<br> +<br> +The functions of the Sheriff of Selkirkshire admitted of +considerable leisure, and Scott settled at Ashestiel full of +literary projects, as well as heartily prepared to meet his new +responsibilities and to add to his numerous and valuable +friendships. An enterprise that early engaged his attention was +a complete edition of the British poets, but the deliberations on +the subject came to nothing except in so far as they helped +towards the preparation of Campbell’s ‘Specimens of +the British Poets,’ which appeared in 1819. Writing Scott +regarding his project of a complete edition of the poets, his +friend George Ellis said, ‘Much as I wish for a corpus +poetarum, edited as you would edit it, I should like still better +another Minstrel Lay by the last and best Minstrel; and the +general demand for the poem seems to prove that the public are of +my opinion.’ The work of editing, however, he seemed at +the time determined on having, and he finally abandoned the idea +of an exhaustive issue of the British poetry previous to his own +time and settled down to edit Dryden. This was a work much +needed, and Scott did it extremely well, as may be seen by +comparing his own issue of Dryden’s Life and Works in 1808 +with the recent reproduction of it, admirably edited by Mr. +George Saintsbury.<br> +<br> +He had likewise, as he mentions in the General Preface to the +Novels, begun Waverley ‘about 1805,’ and other +literary engagements received their share of attention. He wrote +articles for the Edinburgh Review, besides doing such minor if +useful literary service as editing for Constable ‘Original +Memoirs written during the Great Civil Wars,’ and so on. +At the same time, there were prospects of professional +advancement, an account of which he gives in the following terms, +in the 1830 Introduction to ‘Marmion’:--<br> +<br> +‘An important circumstance had, about the same time, taken +place in my life. Hopes had been held out to me from an +influential quarter, of a nature to relieve me from the anxiety +which I must have otherwise felt, as one upon the precarious +tenure of whose own life rested the principal prospects of his +family, and especially as one who had necessarily some dependence +upon the favour of the public, which is proverbially capricious; +though it is but justice to add, that, in my own case, I have not +found it so. Mr. Pitt had expressed a wish to my personal +friend, the Right Hon. William Dundas, now Lord Clerk Register of +Scotland, that some fitting opportunity should be taken to be of +service to me; and as my views and wishes pointed to a future +rather than an immediate provision, an opportunity of +accomplishing this was soon found. One of the Principal Clerks +of Session, as they are called, (official persons who occupy an +important and responsible situation, and enjoy a considerable +income,) who had served upwards of thirty years, felt himself, +from age, and the infirmity of deafness with which it was +accompanied, desirous of retiring from his official situation. +As the law then stood, such official persons were entitled to +bargain with their successors, either for a sum of money, which +was usually a considerable one, or for an interest in the +emoluments of the office during their life. My predecessor, +whose services had been unusually meritorious, stipulated for the +emoluments of his office during his life, while I should enjoy +the survivorship, on the condition that I discharged the duties +of the office in the meantime. Mr. Pitt, however, having died in +the interval, his administration was dissolved, and was succeeded +by that known by the name of the Fox and Grenville Ministry. My +affair was so far completed, that my commission lay in the office +subscribed by his Majesty; but, from hurry or mistake, the +interest of my predecessor was not expressed in it, as had been +usual in such cases. Although, therefore, it only required +payment of the fees, I could not in honour take out the +commission in the present state, since, in the event of my dying +before him, the gentleman whom I succeeded must have lost the +vested interest which he had stipulated to retain. I had the +honour of an interview with Earl Spencer on the subject, and he, +in the most handsome manner, gave directions that the commission +should issue as originally intended; adding, that the matter +having received the royal assent, he regarded only as a claim of +justice what he would have willingly done as an act of favour. I +never saw Mr. Fox on this, or on any other occasion, and never +made any application to him, conceiving that in doing so I might +have been supposed to express political opinions contrary to +those which I had always professed. In his private capacity, +there is no man to whom I would have been more proud to owe an +obligation, had I been so distinguished.<br> +<br> +‘By this arrangement I obtained the survivorship of an +office, the emoluments of which were fully adequate to my wishes; +and as the law respecting the mode of providing for superannuated +officers was, about five or six years after, altered from that +which admitted the arrangement of assistant and successor, my +colleague very handsomely took the opportunity of the alteration, +to accept of the retiring annuity provided in such cases, and +admitted me to the full benefit of the office.’<br> +<br> +At Ashestiel Scott systematically planned his day. He had his +mornings for his multifarious work, and the after part of the day +was given to necessary recreation and to his friends. He was an +ardent member of the Edinburgh Light Horse, at a time when +volunteers of a practical and energetic character seemed likely +to be needed, and at Ashestiel he combined a certain military +routine with his legal and literary arrangements. James Skene of +Rubislaw, one of his best friends and most frequent visitors, +mentions that ‘before beginning his desk-work in the +morning he uniformly visited his favourite steed, and neither +<i>Captain</i> nor <i>Lieutenant</i>, nor the +<i>Lieutenant’s</i> successor, <i>Brown Adam</i> (so called +after one of the heroes of the Minstrelsy), liked to be fed +except by him.’ Skene is the friend to whom Scott +addresses the Introduction to Canto IV, charged with touching and +beautiful reminiscences of earlier days. They were comrades in +the Edinburgh Light Horse Volunteers, Scott being Quartermaster +and Skene Cornet. Their friendship had been one of eleven +years’ standing when the dedicatory epistle was +written:--<br> +<br> + ‘Eleven years we now may tell,<br> + Since we have known each other well;<br> + Since, riding side by side, our hand<br> + First drew the voluntary brand.’<br> +<br> +With regard to the Introductions, it may now be said that they +are better where they are than if the poet had published them +separately, as at one time he seems to have intended (see Notes, +p. 187). It is sometimes said by those anxious to learn the +story that these introductory Epistles should be steadily +ignored, and the cantos read in strict succession. In answer to +an assertion of opinion like this, it is hardly necessary to say +more than that probably those interested in the narrative alone +could not do better than avoid the Introductions. But it will be +well for them to miss various other things besides: will they, +for example, care for the impassioned address of Constance to her +judges, for the landlord’s tale of grammarye, for Sir David +Lyndsay’s narrative, or even for the many descriptive +passages that interrupt the free progress of the tale? Their +reading would appear to be done on the plan of those who get +through novels, or other works of imagination, by carefully +omitting the dialogue and all those passages in which the author +pauses to describe or to reflect. It is needless to say that +this is not the spirit in which to approach ‘Marmion’ +as it stands. Scott wrote with his friends about him, and it was +part of his own enjoyment of his work to interest them in what +for the time was receiving the main part of his attention. His +talk with Mr. Morritt in front of the little cottage at Lasswade +is highly significant as illustrative of his attitude towards his +friends. His healthy, humorous, happy nature wanted sympathy, +appreciation, sociality, and good cheer for its complete normal +development, and this alone would explain the writing of the +Introductions. But there is more than this. He talked over his +subject and his progress with friends competent to discuss and +advise, and he showed them portions of the poem as he advanced. +There are indications in the Introductions of certain discussions +that had arisen over his conception and treatment, and surely few +readers would like to miss from the volume the clever and +humorous apology for his own method which the poet advances in +the Introduction to the third canto. William Erskine, refined +critic and life-long friend, is asked to be patient and generous +while the poet proceeds in his own way:--<br> +<br> + ‘Still kind, as is thy wont, attend,<br> + And in the minstrel spare the friend,<br> + Though wild as cloud, as stream, as gale,<br> + Flow forth, flow unrestrain’d, my Tale!’<br> +<br> +Further, the Introductions do not in any case interrupt the +progress of the Poem. Scott was dealing with a great national +theme--a cause he and his friends could understand and +appreciate--and both before starting and at every pause he has +something to say that is apposite and suggestive. His +country’s wintry state is the key-note of the first +Introduction, which is an appropriate prelude to a great national +tragedy; weird Border legends and the touching and mysterious +silences of lone St. Mary’s Lake fitly introduce the +‘mysterious Man of Woe’; the third and the fourth +Introductions, with their features of personal interest and their +bright reminiscences of ‘tales that charmed’ and +scenes on ‘the field-day, or the drill,’ are easily +connected with the Hostel and the Camp; Spenser’s +‘wandering Squire of Dames,’ the vigorous description +of the ‘Queen of the North,’ and the tribute to the +notes that ‘Marie translated, Blondel sung,’ all tell +in their due place as preparatory to the canto on The Court; +while the ominous record, emanating from a Yule-tide retreat, +could not be more fitly interrupted than by a battle of national +disaster. Scott, then, may have thought of publishing the +Introductions separately, but it is well that he ultimately +allowed his better judgment to prevail. It is not necessary to +dwell on their special descriptive features, which readily assert +themselves and give Scott a high and honoured place among +Nature-poets. His quick and minute observation, his sense of +colour and harmonious effects, and his skill of arrangement are +admirable throughout.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>II. COMPOSITION OF ‘MARMION.’<br> +<br> +</b>In 1791 Scott accompanied an uncle into Northumberland, and +made his first acquaintance with the scene of Flodden. Writing +to his friend William Clerk (Lockhart’s Life, ii. 182), he +says, ‘Never was an affair more completely bungled than +that day’s work was. Suppose one army posted upon the face +of a hill, and secured by high grounds projecting on each flank, +with the river Till in front, a deep and still river, winding +through a very extensive valley called Milfield Plain, and the +only passage over it by a narrow bridge, which the Scots +artillery, from the hill, could in a moment have demolished. Add +that the English must have hazarded a battle while their troops, +which were tumultuously levied, remained together; and that the +Scots, behind whom the country was open to Scotland, had nothing +to do but to wait for the attack as they were posted. Yet did +two-thirds of the army, actuated by the <i>perfervidum ingenium +Scotorum</i>, rush down and give an opportunity to Stanley to +occupy the ground they had quitted, by coming over the shoulder +of the hill, while the other third, under Lord Home, kept their +ground, and having seen their King and about 10,000 of their +countrymen cut to pieces, retired into Scotland without +loss.’ Fifteen years after this was written Scott began +the composition of ‘Marmion,’ and it is interesting +to note that, so early in life as the date of this letter +indicates, he was so keenly alive to the great blunder in +military tactics made by James IV and his advisers, and so +manifestly stirred to eloquent expression of his feeling.<br> +<br> +In November 1806 Scott began ‘Marmion,’ designed as a +romance of Feudalism to succeed the Border study in ‘The +Lay of the Last Minstrel.’ The circumstances of the time, +no doubt, to some extent prompted the choice of subject. +Napoleon was diligently working out his ambitious scheme of a +Western Empire, and plotting the ruin of Great Britain as an +indispensable feature of the arrangement. Scott was not always +intimately acquainted with the details of current politics, but +when a subject fairly roused his interest he was not slow to take +part in its discussion. This is notably illustrated, in this +very year 1806, by the outspoken and energetic political ballad +he produced over the acquittal of Lord Melville from a serious +charge. This ballad, which went very straight to the heart of +its subject, and left no doubt as to the party feeling of the +writer, not only arrested general attention but gave considerable +offence to the leaders on the side so sharply handled. It is +given, with an explanation of the circumstances that called it +forth, in Lockhart’s Life, ii. 106, 1837 ed.<br> +<br> +While, however, party politics was not always a subject that +interested Scott, patriotism was a constituent element of his +character. He had a keen sense of national dignity and +honour--as the extract from his Flodden letter alone sufficiently +testifies--and, had circumstances demanded it of him, he would +almost certainly have distinguished himself as a trooper on the +field of battle. Thus it was not only his love of a picturesque +theme that inspired him with his Tale of Flodden Field, but +likewise his patriotic ardour and his desire to touch the +national heart. ‘Marmion’ is epical in character and +movement; and it is at the same time a brilliant and suggestive +delineation of a national effort, illustrating keen sense of +honour, resolute purpose, and pathetic manly devotion. James IV +was probably wrong, and he was certainly very rash, in attempting +to do battle with Henry VIII, but although his people were aware +of his mistake, and his advisers did all in their power to +dissuade him, he was supported to the last with a heroism that +recalls Thermopylae. This was a display of national character +that appealed directly and powerfully to Scott, prompting him to +the production of his loftiest and most energetic verse. +Mournful associations will ever cluster around the tragic battle +of Flodden--that ‘most dolent day,’ as Lyndsay aptly +calls it--but all the same the record remains of what heroic men +had it in them to do for King and country, where<br> +<br> + ‘Groom fought like noble, squire like knight,<br> + As fearlessly and well.’<br> +<br> +Scott intended to work slowly and carefully through his new poem, +but, as he explains in the 1830 Introduction, circumstances +interrupted his design. ‘Particular passages,’ he +says, ‘of a poem, which was finally called +“Marmion,” were laboured with a good deal of care, by +one by whom much care was seldom bestowed.’ The +publication, however, was hastened by ‘the misfortunes of a +near relation and friend.’ Lockhart (Life, ii. 115) +explains that the reference is to ‘his brother +Thomas’s final withdrawal from the profession of Writer to +the Signet, which arrangement seems to have been quite necessary +towards the end of 1806.’ At any rate, the poem was +finished in a shorter time than had been at first intended. The +subject suited Scott so exactly that, even in default of a +special stimulus, there need be no surprise at the rapidity of +his composition after he had fairly begun to move forward with +it. Dryden, it may be remembered, was so held and fascinated by +his ‘Alexander’s Feast’ that he wrote it off in +a night. Cowper had a similar experience with ‘John +Gilpin,’ and Burns’s powerful dramatic tale, +‘Tam O’Shanter,’ was produced with great ease +and rapidity. De Quincey records that, in his own case, his very +best work was frequently done when he was writing against time. +Scott’s energy and fluency of composition are clearly +indicated in the following passage in Lockharts Life, ii. +117:--<br> +<br> +‘When the theme was of a more stirring order, he enjoyed +pursuing it over brake and fell at the full speed of his +<i>Lieutenant</i>. I well remember his saying, as I rode with +him across the hills from Ashestiel to Newark one day in his +declining years--“Oh, man, I had many a grand gallop among +these braes when I was thinking of ‘Marmion,’ but a +trotting canny pony must serve me now.” His friend, Mr. +Skene, however, informs me that many of the more energetic +descriptions, and particularly that of the battle of Flodden, +were struck out while he was in quarters again with his cavalry, +in the autumn of 1807. “In the intervals of +drilling,” he says, “Scott used to delight in walking +his powerful black steed up and down by himself upon the +Portobello sands, within the beating of the surge; and now and +then you would see him plunge in his spurs and go off as if at +the charge, with the spray dashing about him. As we rode back to +Musselburgh, he often came and placed himself beside me to repeat +the verses that he had been composing during these pauses of our +exercise.”‘<br> +<br> +This is wholly in keeping with the production of such poetry of +movement as that of ‘Marmion,’ and it deserves its +due place in estimating the work of Scott, just as +Wordsworth’s staid and sober walks around his garden, or +among the hills by which he was surrounded, are carefully +considered in connexion with his deliberate, meditative verse. +Scott wrote the Introduction to Canto IV just a year after he had +begun the poem, and between that time and the middle of February +1808 the work was finished. There is no rashness in saying that +rapidity of production did not detract from excellence of +result. Indeed, it is admiration rather than criticism that is +challenged by the reflection that, in these short months, the +poet should have turned out so much verse of high and enduring +quality.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>III. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE POEM.<br> +<br> +</b>‘Marmion’ is avowedly a descriptive poem. It is +a series of skilful and impressive pictures, not only remarkable +in themselves, but conspicuous in their own kind in poetical +literature. Scott is said to have been deficient, or at any rate +imperfectly trained, in certain sense activities, but there is no +denying his quick perception of colour and his strong sense of +the leading points in a landscape. Even minute features are +seized and utilized with ease and precision, while the larger +elements of a scene are depicted with breadth, sense of +proportion, and clearness and impressiveness of arrangement. +This holds true whether the description is merely a vivid +presentment of what the imagination of the poet calls from the +remote past, or a delineation of what has actually come under his +notice. Norham at twilight, with the solitary warder on the +battlements, and Crichtoun castle, as Scott himself saw it, +instantly commend themselves by their realistic vigour and their +consistent verisimilitude. Any visitor to Norham will still be +able to imagine the stir and the imposing spectacle described in +the opening stanzas of the first canto; and it is a pleasure to +follow Scott’s minute and faithful picture of Crichtoun by +examining the imposing ruin as it stands at the present day. +Then it is impossible not to feel that the Edinburgh of the +sixteenth century was exactly as it is depicted in the poem, and +that the troops on the Borough Moor were disposed as seen by the +trained military eye of Sir Walter Scott. It would be difficult +to find anywhere a more striking ancient stronghold than +Tantallon, nor would it be easy to conceive a more appropriate +scene for that grim and exciting morning interview in which the +venerable Douglas found that he had harboured a recreant knight. +Above all, there is the great battle scene, standing alone in +literature for its carefully detailed delineation--its persistent +minuteness, its rapidity of movement, its balanced effects, its +energetic purpose--and surpassing everything in modern verse for +its vivid Homeric realism. Fifteen years before, as we have +seen, Scott had the progress of the battle in his mind’s +eye, and at length he produced his description as if he had been +present in the character of a skilful and interested spectator. +There are envious people who decline to admit that Scott +discovered his scenery, and who contend that others knew all +about it before and appreciated it in their own way. Be it so; +and yet the fact remains that Scott likewise saw and appreciated +in the way peculiar to him, and thereby enabled his numerous +readers to share his enjoyment. A very interesting and +suggestive account of the new popularity given to the Flodden +district by the publication of ‘Marmion’ will be +found in Lockhart’s Life, iii. 12. In the autumn of 1812 +Scott visited Rokeby, doing the journey on horseback, along with +his eldest boy and girl on ponies. The following is an episode +of the way:--<br> +<br> +‘Halting at Flodden to expound the field of battle to his +young folks, he found that “Marmion” had, as might +have been expected, benefited the keeper of the public-house +there very largely; and the village Boniface, overflowing with +gratitude, expressed his anxiety to have a <i>Scott’s +Head</i> for his sign-post. The poet demurred to this proposal, +and assured mine host that nothing could be more appropriate than +the portraiture of a foaming tankard, which already surmounted +his doorway. “Why, the painter man has not made an ill +job,” said the landlord, “but I would fain have +something more connected with the book that has brought me so +much good custom.” He produced a well-thumbed copy, and +handing it to the author, begged he would at least suggest a +motto from the Tale of Flodden Field. Scott opened the book at +the death-scene of the hero, and his eye was immediately caught +by the “inscription” in black letter:--<br> +<br> + “Drink, weary pilgrim, drink, and pray<br> + For the kind soul of Sibyl Grey,” &c.<br> +<br> +“Well, my friend,” said he, “what more would +you have? You need but strike out one letter in the first of +these lines, and make your painter-man, the next time he comes +this way, print between the jolly tankard and your own +name:--<br> +<br> + ‘Drink, weary pilgrim, drink, and +PAY.’“<br> +<br> +Scott was delighted to find, on his return, that this suggestion +had been adopted, and for aught I know the romantic legend may +still be visible.’<br> +<br> +The characters in the poem are hardly less vigorous in conception +and presentation than the descriptions. It may be true, as +Carlyle asserts in his ungenerous essay on Scott, that he was +inferior to Shakespeare in delineation of character, but, even +admitting that, we shall still have ample room for approval and +admiration of his work. So far as the purposes of the poem are +concerned the various personages are admirably utilized. We come +to know Marmion himself very intimately, the interest gradually +deepening as the real character of the Palmer and his relations +to the hero are steadily developed. These two take prominent +rank with the imaginary characters of literature. James IV, that +‘champion of the dames,’ and likewise undoubted +military leader, is faithfully delineated in accordance with +historical records and contemporary estimates. Those desirous of +seeing him as he struck the imagination of a poet in his own day +should read the eulogy passed upon him by Barclay in his +‘Ship of Fools.’ The passage in which this occurs is +an interpolation in the division of the poem entitled ‘Of +the Ruine and Decay of the Holy Faith Catholique.’ The +other characters are all distinctly suited to the parts they have +to perform. Acting on the licence sanctioned by Horatian +authority:--<br> +<br> + ‘Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet,<br> + Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum’--<br> +<br> +Scott appropriates Sir David Lyndsay to his purpose, presenting +him, even as he presents the stately and venerable Angus, with +faithful and striking picturesqueness. Bishop Douglas is exactly +suited to his share in the development of events; and had room +likewise been found for the Court poet Dunbar--author of +James’s Epithalamium, the ‘Thrissill and the +Rois’--it would have been both a fit and a seemly +arrangement. Had Scott remembered that Dunbar was a favourite of +Queen Margaret’s he might have introduced him into an +interesting episode. The passage devoted to the Queen herself is +exquisite and graceful, its restrained and effective pathos +making a singularly direct and significant appeal. The other +female characters are well conceived and sustained, while +Constance in the Trial scene reaches an imposing height of +dramatic intensity.<br> +<br> +After the descriptions and the characterisation, the remaining +important features of the poem are its marked practical irony and +its episodes. Marmion, despite his many excellences, is +throughout--and for obvious reasons--the victim of a persistent +Nemesis. Scott is much interested in his hero; one fancies that +if it were only possible he would in the end extend his favour to +him, and grant him absolution; but his sense of artistic fitness +prevails, and he will abate no jot of the painful ordeal to which +he feels bound to submit him. Marmion is a knight with a claim +to nothing more than the half of the proverbial qualifications. +He is <i>sans peur</i>, but not <i>sans reproche</i>; and it is +one expression of the practical irony that constantly lurks to +assail him that even his fearlessness quails for a time before +the Phantom Knight on Gifford Moor. The whole attitude of the +Palmer is ironical; and, after the bitter parting with Angus at +Tantallon, Marmion is weighted with the depressing reflection +that numerous forces are conspiring against him, and with the +knowledge that it is his old rival De Wilton that has thrown off +the Palmer’s disguise and preceded him to the scene of +war. In his last hour the practical irony of his position bears +upon him with a concentration of keen and bitter thrusts. Clare, +whom he intended to defraud, ministers to his last needs; he +learns that Constance died a bitter death at Lindisfarne; and +just when he recognises his greatest need of strength his life +speedily ebbs away. There is a certain grandeur of impressive +tragical effort in his last struggles, as he feels that whatever +he may himself have been he suffers in the end from the merciless +machinery of a false ecclesiastical system. The practical irony +follows him even after his death, for it is a skilful stroke that +leaves his neglected remains on the field of battle and places a +nameless stranger in his stately tomb.<br> +<br> +As regards the episodes, it may just be said in a word that they +are appropriate, and instead of retarding the movement of the +piece, as has sometimes been alleged, they serve to give it +breadth and massiveness of effect. Of course, there will always +be found those who think them too long, just as there are those +whose narrowness of view constrains them to wish the +Introductions away. If the poet’s conception of Marmion be +fully considered, it will be seen that the Host’s Tale is +an integral part of his purpose; and there is surely no need to +defend either Sir David Lyndsay’s Tale or the weird display +at the cross of Edinburgh. The episode of Lady Heron’s +singing carries its own defence in itself, seeing that the song +of ‘Lochinvar’ holds a place of distinction among +lyrics expressive of poetical motion. After all, we must bear in +mind that though it pleases Scott to speak of his tale as flowing +on ‘wild as cloud, as stream, as gale,’ he was still +conscious that he was engaged upon a poem, and that a poem is +regulated by certain artistic laws. If we strive to grasp his +meaning we shall not be specially inclined to carp at his +method. It may at the same time be not unprofitable to look for +a moment at some of the notable criticisms of the poem.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>IV. CRITICISMS OF THE POEM.<br> +<br> +</b>When ‘Marmion’ was little more than begun +Scott’s publishers offered him a thousand pounds for the +copyright, and as this soon became known it naturally gave rise +to varied comment. Lord Byron thought it sufficient to warrant a +gratuitous attack on the author in his ‘English Bards and +Scotch Reviewers.’ This is a portion of the passage:--<br> +<br> + ‘And think’st thou, Scott! by vain conceit +perchance,<br> + On public taste to foist thy stale romance.<br> + Though Murray with his Miller may combine<br> + To yield thy muse just half-a-crown per line?<br> + No! when the sons of song descend to trade,<br> + Their bays are sear, their former laurels fade.’<br> +<br> +As a matter of fact, there was on Scott’s part no trade +whatever in the case. If a publisher chose to secure in advance +what he anticipated would be a profitable commodity, that was +mainly the publisher’s affair, and the poet would have been +a simpleton not to close with the offer if he liked it. Scott +admirably disposes of Byron as follows in the 1830 +Introduction:--<br> +<br> +‘The publishers of the “Lay of the Last +Minstrel,” emboldened by the success of that poem, +willingly offered a thousand pounds for “Marmion.” +The transaction being no secret, afforded Lord Byron, who was +then at general war with all who blacked paper, an apology for +including me in his satire, entitled “English Bards and +Scotch Reviewers.” I never could conceive how an +arrangement between an author and his publishers, if satisfactory +to the persons concerned, could afford matter of censure to any +third party. I had taken no unusual or ungenerous means of +enhancing the value of my merchandise--I had never higgled a +moment about the bargain, but accepted at once what I considered +the handsome offer of my publishers. These gentlemen, at least, +were not of opinion that they had been taken advantage of in the +transaction, which indeed was one of their own framing; on the +contrary, the sale of the Poem was so far beyond their +expectation, as to induce them to supply the author’s +cellars with what is always an acceptable present to a young +Scottish housekeeper, namely, a hogshead of excellent +claret.’<br> +<br> +A second point on which Scott was attacked was the character of +Marmion. It was held that such a knight as he undoubtedly was +should have been incapable of forgery. Scott himself; of course, +knew better than his critics whether or not this was the case, +but, with his usual good nature and generous regard for the +opinion of others, he admitted that perhaps he had committed an +artistic blunder. Dr. Leyden, in particular, for whose judgment +he had special respect, wrote him from India ‘a furious +remonstrance on the subject.’ Fortunately, he made no +attempt to change what he had written, his main reason being that +‘corrections, however in themselves judicious, have a bad +effect after publication.’ He might have added that any +modification of the hero’s guilt would have entirely +altered the character of the poem, and might have ruined it +altogether. He had never, apparently, gone into the question +thoroughly after his first impressions of the type of knights +existing in feudal times, for though he states that +‘similar instances were found, and might be quoted,’ +he is inclined to admit that the attribution of forgery was a +‘gross defect.’ Readers interested in the subject +will find by reference to Pike’s ‘History of +Crime,’ i. 276, that Scott was perfectly justified in his +assumption that a feudal knight was capable of forgery. Those +who understand how intimate his knowledge was of the period with +which he was dealing will, of course, be the readiest to believe +him rather than his critics; but when he seems doubtful of +himself, and ready to yield the point, it is well that the +strength of his original position can thus be supported by the +results of recent investigation.<br> +<br> +Jeffrey, in the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, not being able to +understand and appreciate this new devotion to romance, and +probably stimulated by his misreading of the reference to Fox in +the Introduction to Canto I, did his utmost to cast discredit on +‘Marmion.’ Scott was too large a man to confound the +separate spheres of Politics and Literature; whereas it was +frequently the case with Jeffrey--as, indeed, it was to some +extent with literary critics on the other side as well--to +estimate an author’s work in reference to the party in the +State to which he was known to belong. It was impossible to deny +merits to Scott’s descriptions, and the extraordinary +energy of the most striking portions of the Poem, but Jeffrey +groaned over the inequalities he professed to discover, and +lamented that the poet should waste his strength on the +unprofitable effort to resuscitate an old-fashioned enthusiasm. +They had been the best of friends previously--and Scott, as we +have seen, worked for the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>--but it was now +patent that the old literary intimacy could not pleasantly +continue. Nor is it surprising that Scott should have felt that +the <i>Edinburgh Review</i> had become too autocratic, and that +he should have given a helping hand towards the establishing of +the <i>Quarterly Review</i>, as a political and literary organ +necessary to the balance of parties.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>V. THE TEXT OF THE POEM.<br> +<br> +</b>Scott himself revised ‘Marmion’ in 1831, and the +interleaved copy which he used formed the basis of the text given +by Lockhart in the uniform edition of the Poetical Works +published in 1833. This will remain the standard text. It is +that which is followed in the present volume, in which there will +be found only three--in reality only two--important instances of +divergence from Lockhart’s readings. The earlier editions +have been collated with that of 1833, and Mr. W. J. Rolfe’s +careful and scholarly Boston edition has likewise been +consulted. It has not been considered necessary to follow Mr. +Rolfe in several alterations he has made on Lockhart; but he +introduces one emendation which readily commends itself to the +reader’s intelligence, and it is adopted in the present +volume. This is in the punctuation of the opening lines in the +first stanza of Canto II. Lockhart completes a sentence at the +end of the fifth line, whereas the sense manifestly carries the +period on to the eleventh line. In the third Introd., line 228, +the reading of the earlier editions is followed in giving +‘From me’ instead of ‘For me,’ as the +meaning is thereby simplified and made more direct. In III. xiv. +234, the modern versions of Lockhart’s text give +‘proudest princes <i>veil</i> their eyes,’ where +Lockhart himself agrees with the earlier editions in reading +‘<i>vail</i>’. The restoration of the latter form +needs no defence. The Elizabethan words in the Poem are not +infrequent, giving it, as they do, a certain air of archaic +dignity, and there can be little doubt that ‘vail’ +was Scott’s word here, used in its Shakespearian sense of +‘lower’ or ‘cast down,’ and recalling +Venus as ‘she vailed her eyelids.’<br> +<br> +<b>MARMION<br> +<i>A TALE OF FLODDEN FIELD<br> +</i></b>IN SIX CANTOS<br> +<br> +Alas! that Scottish maid should sing<br> +The combat where her lover fell!<br> +That Scottish Bard should wake the string,<br> +The triumph of our foes to tell!<br> +LEYDEN.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>TO<br> +<br> +THE RIGHT HONOURABLE<br> +<br> +HENRY, LORD MONTAGUE<br> +<br> +&c. &c. &c.<br> +<br> +THIS ROMANCE IS INSCRIBED<br> +<br> +BY<br> +<br> +THE AUTHOR<br> +<br> +<br> +ADVERTISEMENT<br> +</b>* * *<br> +<i>It is hardly to be expected, that an Author whom the Public +have honoured with some degree of applause, should not be again a +trespasser on their kindness. Yet the Author of MARMION must be +supposed to feel some anxiety concerning its success, since he is +sensible that he hazards, by this second intrusion, any +reputation which his first Poem may have procured him. The +present story turns upon the private adventures of a fictitious +character; but is called a Tale of Flodden Field, because the +hero’s fate is connected with that memorable defeat, and +the causes which led to it. The design of the Author was, if +possible, to apprize his readers, at the outset, of the date of +his Story, and to prepare them for the manners of the Age in +which it is laid. Any Historical Narrative, far more an attempt +at Epic composition, exceeded his plan of a Romantic Tale; yet he +may be permitted to hope, from the popularity of THE LAY OF THE +LAST MINSTREL, that an attempt to paint the manners of the feudal +times, upon a broader scale, and in the course of a more +interesting story, will not be unacceptable to the Public.<br> +<br> +The Poem opens about the commencement of August, and concludes +with the defeat of Flodden, 9th September, 1513.<br> + Ashestiel, +1808,<br> +<br> +<br> +</i><b>MARMION.<br> +<br> +<br> +INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST.<br> +<br> +TO WILLIAM STEWART ROSE, ESQ.<br> +<br> +Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest.<br> +<br> +</b>November’s sky is chill and drear,<br> +November’s leaf is red and sear:<br> +Late, gazing down the steepy linn,<br> +That hems our little garden in,<br> +Low in its dark and narrow glen, 5<br> +You scarce the rivulet might ken,<br> +So thick the tangled greenwood grew,<br> +So feeble trill’d the streamlet through:<br> +Now, murmuring hoarse, and frequent seen<br> +Through bush and brier, no longer green, +10<br> +An angry brook, it sweeps the glade,<br> +Brawls over rock and wild cascade,<br> +And, foaming brown with double speed,<br> +Hurries its waters to the Tweed.<br> +<br> +No longer Autumn’s glowing red +15<br> +Upon our Forest hills is shed;<br> +No more, beneath the evening beam,<br> +Fair Tweed reflects their purple gleam;<br> +Away hath pass’d the heather-bell<br> +That bloom’d so rich on Needpath-fell; +20<br> +Sallow his brow, and russet bare<br> +Are now the sister-heights of Yair.<br> +The sheep, before the pinching heaven,<br> +To sheltered dale and down are driven,<br> +Where yet some faded herbage pines, 25<br> +And yet a watery sunbeam shines:<br> +In meek despondency they eye<br> +The withered sward and wintry sky,<br> +And far beneath their summer hill,<br> +Stray sadly by Glenkinnon’s rill: +30<br> +The shepherd shifts his mantle’s fold,<br> +And wraps him closer from the cold;<br> +His dogs no merry circles wheel,<br> +But, shivering, follow at his heel;<br> +A cowering glance they often cast, +35<br> +As deeper moans the gathering blast.<br> +<br> +My imps, though hardy, bold, and wild,<br> +As best befits the mountain child,<br> +Feel the sad influence of the hour,<br> +And wail the daisy’s vanish’d flower; + 40<br> +Their summer gambols tell, and mourn,<br> +And anxious ask,-Will spring return,<br> +And birds and lambs again be gay,<br> +And blossoms clothe the hawthorn spray?<br> +<br> + Yes, prattlers, yes. The daisy’s flower +45<br> +Again shall paint your summer bower;<br> +Again the hawthorn shall supply<br> +The garlands you delight to tie;<br> +The lambs upon the lea shall bound,<br> +The wild birds carol to the round, +50<br> +And while you frolic light as they,<br> +Too short shall seem the summer day.<br> +<br> + To mute and to material things<br> +New life revolving summer brings;<br> +The genial call dead Nature hears, +55<br> +And in her glory reappears.<br> +But oh! my Country’s wintry state<br> +What second spring shall renovate?<br> +What powerful call shall bid arise<br> +The buried warlike and the wise; +60<br> +The mind that thought for Britain’s weal,<br> +The hand that grasp’d the victor steel?<br> +The vernal sun new life bestows<br> +Even on the meanest flower that blows;<br> +But vainly, vainly may he shine, +65<br> +Where Glory weeps o’er NELSON’S shrine:<br> +And vainly pierce the solemn gloom,<br> +That shrouds, O PITT, thy hallow’d tomb!<br> +<br> + Deep graved in every British heart,<br> +O never let those names depart! 70<br> +Say to your sons,-Lo, here his grave,<br> +Who victor died on Gadite wave;<br> +To him, as to the burning levin,<br> +Short, bright, resistless course was given.<br> +Where’er his country’s foes were found, + 75<br> +Was heard the fated thunder’s sound,<br> +Till burst the bolt on yonder shore,<br> +Roll’d, blazed, destroyed,-and was no more.<br> +<br> + Nor mourn ye less his perished worth,<br> +Who bade the conqueror go forth, +80<br> +And launch’d that thunderbolt of war<br> +On Egypt, Hafnia, Trafalgar;<br> +Who, born to guide such high emprize,<br> +For Britain’s weal was early wise;<br> +Alas! to whom the Almighty gave, +85<br> +For Britain’s sins, an early grave!<br> +His worth, who, in his mightiest hour,<br> +A bauble held the pride of power,<br> +Spum’d at the sordid lust of pelf,<br> +And served his Albion for herself; +90<br> +Who, when the frantic crowd amain<br> +Strain’d at subjection’s bursting rein,<br> +O’er their wild mood full conquest gain’d,<br> +The pride, he would not crush, restrain’d,<br> +Show’d their fierce zeal a worthier cause, +95<br> +And brought the freeman’s arm, to aid the freeman’s +laws.<br> +<br> + Had’st thou but lived, though stripp’d of +power,<br> +A watchman on the lonely tower,<br> +Thy thrilling trump had roused the land,<br> +When fraud or danger were at hand; 100<br> +By thee, as by the beacon-light,<br> +Our pilots had kept course aright;<br> +As some proud column, though alone,<br> +Thy strength had propp’d the tottering throne:<br> +Now is the stately column broke, 105<br> +The beacon-light is quench’d in smoke,<br> +The trumpet’s silver sound is still,<br> +The warder silent on the hill!<br> +<br> +Oh, think, how to his latest day,<br> +When Death, just hovering, claim’d his prey, +110<br> +With Palinure’s unalter’d mood,<br> +Firm at his dangerous post he stood;<br> +Each call for needful rest repell’d,<br> +With dying hand the rudder held,<br> +Till, in his fall, with fateful sway, +115<br> +The steerage of the realm gave way!<br> +Then, while on Britain’s thousand plains,<br> +One unpolluted church remains,<br> +Whose peaceful bells ne’er sent around<br> +The bloody tocsin’s maddening sound, +120<br> +But still, upon the hallow’d day,<br> +Convoke the swains to praise and pray;<br> +While faith and civil peace are dear,<br> +Grace this cold marble with a tear,<br> +He, who preserved them, PITT, lies here! 125<br> +<br> + Nor yet suppress the generous sigh,<br> +Because his rival slumbers nigh;<br> +Nor be thy <i>requiescat</i> dumb,<br> +Lest it be said o’er Fox’s tomb.<br> +For talents mourn, untimely lost, +130<br> +When best employ’d, and wanted most;<br> +Mourn genius high, and lore profound,<br> +And wit that loved to play, not wound;<br> +And all the reasoning powers divine,<br> +To penetrate, resolve, combine; +135<br> +And feelings keen, and fancy’s glow,-<br> +They sleep with him who sleeps below:<br> +And, if thou mourn’st they could not save<br> +From error him who owns this grave,<br> +Be every harsher thought suppress’d, +140<br> +And sacred be the last long rest.<br> +<i>Here</i>, where the end of earthly things<br> +Lays heroes, patriots, bards, and kings;<br> +Where stiff the hand, and still the tongue,<br> +Of those who fought, and spoke, and sung; +145<br> +<i>Here</i>, where the fretted aisles prolong<br> +The distant notes of holy song,<br> +As if some angel spoke agen,<br> +‘All peace on earth, good-will to men;’<br> +If ever from an English heart, 150<br> +O, <i>here</i> let prejudice depart,<br> +And, partial feeling cast aside,<br> +Record, that Fox a Briton died!<br> +When Europe crouch’d to France’s yoke,<br> +And Austria bent, and Prussia broke, 155<br> +And the firm Russian’s purpose brave,<br> +Was barter’d by a timorous slave,<br> +Even then dishonour’s peace he spurn’d,<br> +The sullied olive-branch return’d,<br> +Stood for his country’s glory fast, +160<br> +And nail’d her colours to the mast!<br> +Heaven, to reward his firmness, gave<br> +A portion in this honour’d grave,<br> +And ne’er held marble in its trust<br> +Of two such wondrous men the dust. 165<br> +<br> + With more than mortal powers endow’d,<br> +How high they soar’d above the crowd!<br> +Theirs was no common party race,<br> +Jostling by dark intrigue for place;<br> +Like fabled Gods, their mighty war 170<br> +Shook realms and nations in its jar;<br> +Beneath each banner proud to stand,<br> +Look’d up the noblest of the land,<br> +Till through the British world were known<br> +The names of PITT and Fox alone. 175<br> +Spells of such force no wizard grave<br> +E’er framed in dark Thessalian cave,<br> +Though his could drain the ocean dry,<br> +And force the planets from the sky.<br> +These spells are spent, and, spent with these, 180<br> +The wine of life is on the lees.<br> +Genius, and taste, and talent gone,<br> +For ever tomb’d beneath the stone,<br> +Where-taming thought to human pride!-<br> +The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. +185<br> +Drop upon Fox’s grave the tear,<br> +‘Twill trickle to his rival’s bier;<br> +O’er PITT’S the mournful requiem sound,<br> +And Fox’s shall the notes rebound.<br> +The solemn echo seems to cry,- 190<br> +‘Here let their discord with them die.<br> +Speak not for those a separate doom,<br> +Whom Fate made Brothers in the tomb;<br> +But search the land of living men,<br> +Where wilt thou find their like agen?’ +195<br> +<br> + Rest, ardent Spirits! till the cries<br> +Of dying Nature bid you rise;<br> +Not even your Britain’s groans can pierce<br> +The leaden silence of your hearse;<br> +Then, O, how impotent and vain 200<br> +This grateful tributary strain!<br> +Though not unmark’d from northern clime,<br> +Ye heard the Border Minstrel’s rhyme:<br> +His Gothic harp has o’er you rung;<br> +The Bard you deign’d to praise, your deathless names has +sung.<br> +<br> + Stay yet, illusion, stay a while,<br> +My wilder’d fancy still beguile!<br> +From this high theme how can I part,<br> +Ere half unloaded is my heart!<br> +For all the tears e’er sorrow drew, +210<br> +And all the raptures fancy knew,<br> +And all the keener rush of blood,<br> +That throbs through bard in bard-like mood,<br> +Were here a tribute mean and low,<br> +Though all their mingled streams could flow- 215<br> +Woe, wonder, and sensation high,<br> +In one spring-tide of ecstasy!-<br> +It will not be-it may not last-<br> +The vision of enchantment’s past:<br> +Like frostwork in the morning ray, 220<br> +The fancied fabric melts away;<br> +Each Gothic arch, memorial-stone,<br> +And long, dim, lofty aisle, are gone;<br> +And, lingering last, deception dear,<br> +The choir’s high sounds die on my ear. +225<br> +Now slow return the lonely down,<br> +The silent pastures bleak and brown,<br> +The farm begirt with copsewood wild<br> +The gambols of each frolic child,<br> +Mixing their shrill cries with the tone +230<br> +Of Tweed’s dark waters rushing on.<br> +<br> + Prompt on unequal tasks to run,<br> +Thus Nature disciplines her son:<br> +Meeter, she says, for me to stray,<br> +And waste the solitary day, +235<br> +In plucking from yon fen the reed,<br> +And watch it floating down the Tweed;<br> +Or idly list the shrilling lay,<br> +With which the milkmaid cheers her way,<br> +Marking its cadence rise and fail, 240<br> +As from the field, beneath her pail,<br> +She trips it down the uneven dale:<br> +Meeter for me, by yonder cairn,<br> +The ancient shepherd’s tale to learn;<br> +Though oft he stop in rustic fear, 245<br> +Lest his old legends tire the ear<br> +Of one, who, in his simple mind,<br> +May boast of book-learn’d taste refined.<br> +<br> + But thou, my friend, canst fitly tell,<br> +(For few have read romance so well,) 250<br> +How still the legendary lay<br> +O’er poet’s bosom holds its sway;<br> +How on the ancient minstrel strain<br> +Time lays his palsied hand in vain;<br> +And how our hearts at doughty deeds, 255<br> +By warriors wrought in steely weeds,<br> +Still throb for fear and pity’s sake;<br> +As when the Champion of the Lake<br> +Enters Morgana’s fated house,<br> +Or in the Chapel Perilous, 260<br> +Despising spells and demons’ force,<br> +Holds converse with the unburied corse;<br> +Or when, Dame Ganore’s grace to move,<br> +(Alas, that lawless was their love!)<br> +He sought proud Tarquin in his den, +265<br> +And freed full sixty knights; or when,<br> +A sinful man, and unconfess’d,<br> +He took the Sangreal’s holy quest,<br> +And, slumbering, saw the vision high,<br> +He might not view with waking eye. 270<br> +<br> + The mightiest chiefs of British song<br> +Scorn’d not such legends to prolong:<br> +They gleam through Spenser’s elfin dream,<br> +And mix in Milton’s heavenly theme;<br> +And Dryden, in immortal strain, +275<br> +Had raised the Table Round again,<br> +But that a ribald King and Court<br> +Bade him toil on, to make them sport;<br> +Demanded for their niggard pay,<br> +Fit for their souls, a looser lay, 280<br> +Licentious satire, song, and play;<br> +The world defrauded of the high design,<br> +Profaned the God-given strength, and marr’d the lofty +line.<br> +<br> +Warm’d by such names, well may we then,<br> +Though dwindled sons of little men, +285<br> +Essay to break a feeble lance<br> +In the fair fields of old romance;<br> +Or seek the moated castle’s cell,<br> +Where long through talisman and spell,<br> +While tyrants ruled, and damsels wept, 290<br> +Thy Genius, Chivalry, hath slept:<br> +There sound the harpings of the North,<br> +Till he awake and sally forth,<br> +On venturous quest to prick again,<br> +In all his arms, with all his train, 295<br> +Shield, lance, and brand, and plume, and scarf,<br> +Fay, giant, dragon, squire, and dwarf,<br> +And wizard with his wand of might,<br> +And errant maid on palfrey white.<br> +Around the Genius weave their spells, +300<br> +Pure Love, who scarce his passion tells;<br> +Mystery, half veil’d and half reveal’d;<br> +And Honour, with his spotless shield;<br> +Attention, with fix’d eye; and Fear,<br> +That loves the tale she shrinks to hear; 305<br> +And gentle Courtesy; and Faith,<br> +Unchanged by sufferings, time, or death;<br> +And Valour, lion-mettled lord,<br> +Leaning upon his own good sword.<br> + Well has thy fair achievement shown, 310<br> +A worthy meed may thus be won;<br> +Ytene’s oaks-beneath whose shade<br> +Their theme the merry minstrels made,<br> +Of Ascapart, and Bevis bold,<br> +And that Red King, who, while of old, +315<br> +Through Boldrewood the chase he led,<br> +By his loved huntsman’s arrow bled-<br> +Ytene’s oaks have heard again<br> +Renew’d such legendary strain;<br> +For thou hast sung, how He of Gaul, +320<br> +That Amadis so famed in hall,<br> +For Oriana, foil’d in fight<br> +The Necromancer’s felon might;<br> +And well in modern verse hast wove<br> +Partenopex’s mystic love; +325<br> +Hear, then, attentive to my lay,<br> +A knightly tale of Albion’s elder day.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO FIRST</b>.<br> +<br> +<i>THE CASTLE</i>.<br> +<br> +<br> +I.<br> +<br> +Day set on Norham’s castled steep,<br> +And Tweed’s fair river, broad and deep,<br> + And Cheviot’s mountains lone:<br> +The battled towers, the donjon keep,<br> +The loophole grates, where captives weep, +5<br> +The flanking walls that round it sweep,<br> + In yellow lustre shone.<br> +The warriors on the turrets high,<br> +Moving athwart the evening sky,<br> +Seem’d forms of giant height: +10<br> +Their armour, as it caught the rays,<br> +Flash’d back again the western blaze,<br> + In lines of dazzling light.<br> +<br> +<br> +II.<br> +<br> +Saint George’s banner, broad and gay,<br> +Now faded, as the fading ray +15<br> + Less bright, and less, was flung;<br> +The evening gale had scarce the power<br> +To wave it on the Donjon Tower,<br> + So heavily it hung.<br> +The scouts had parted on their search, +20<br> + The Castle gates were barr’d;<br> +Above the gloomy portal arch,<br> +Timing his footsteps to a march,<br> + The Warder kept his guard;<br> +Low humming, as he paced along, 25<br> +Some ancient Border gathering-song.<br> +<br> +<br> +III.<br> +<br> +A distant trampling sound he hears;<br> +He looks abroad, and soon appears,<br> +O’er Horncliff-hill a plump of spears,<br> + Beneath a pennon gay; 30<br> +A horseman, darting from the crowd,<br> +Like lightning from a summer cloud,<br> +Spurs on his mettled courser proud,<br> + Before the dark array.<br> +Beneath the sable palisade, 35<br> +That closed the Castle barricade,<br> + His buglehorn he blew;<br> +The warder hasted from the wall,<br> +And warn’d the Captain in the hall,<br> + For well the blast he knew; 40<br> +And joyfully that knight did call,<br> +To sewer, squire, and seneschal.<br> +<br> +<br> +IV.<br> +<br> +‘Now broach ye a pipe of Malvoisie,<br> + Bring pasties of the doe,<br> +And quickly make the entrance free +45<br> +And bid my heralds ready be,<br> +And every minstrel sound his glee,<br> + And all our trumpets blow;<br> +And, from the platform, spare ye not<br> +To fire a noble salvo-shot; 50<br> + Lord MARMION waits below!’<br> +Then to the Castle’s lower ward<br> + Sped forty yeomen tall,<br> +The iron-studded gates unbarr’d,<br> +Raised the portcullis’ ponderous guard, +55<br> +The lofty palisade unsparr’d,<br> + And let the drawbridge fall.<br> +<br> +<br> +V.<br> +<br> +Along the bridge Lord Marmion rode,<br> +Proudly his red-roan charger trode,<br> +His helm hung at the saddlebow; 60<br> +Well by his visage you might know<br> +He was a stalworth knight, and keen,<br> +And had in many a battle been;<br> +The scar on his brown cheek reveal’d<br> +A token true of Bosworth field; 65<br> +His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire,<br> +Show’d spirit proud, and prompt to ire;<br> +Yet lines of thought upon his cheek<br> +Did deep design and counsel speak.<br> +His forehead by his casque worn bare, 70<br> +His thick mustache, and curly hair,<br> +Coal-black, and grizzled here and there,<br> + But more through toil than age;<br> +His square-turn’d joints, and strength of limb,<br> +Show’d him no carpet knight so trim, +75<br> +But in close fight a champion grim,<br> + In camps a leader sage.<br> +<br> +<br> +VI.<br> +<br> +Well was he arm’d from head to heel,<br> +In mail and plate of Milan steel;<br> +But his strong helm, of mighty cost, +80<br> +Was all with burnish’d gold emboss’d;<br> +Amid the plumage of the crest,<br> +A falcon hover’d on her nest,<br> +With wings outspread, and forward breast;<br> +E’en such a falcon, on his shield, +85<br> +Soar’d sable in an azure field:<br> +The golden legend bore aright,<br> +Who checks at me, to death is dight.<br> +Blue was the charger’s broider’d rein;<br> +Blue ribbons deck’d his arching mane; +90<br> +The knightly housing’s ample fold<br> +Was velvet blue, and trapp’d with gold.<br> +<br> +<br> +VII.<br> +<br> +Behind him rode two gallant squires,<br> +Of noble name, and knightly sires;<br> +They burn’d the gilded spurs to claim: +95<br> +For well could each a warhorse tame,<br> +Could draw the bow, the sword could sway,<br> +And lightly bear the ring away;<br> +Nor less with courteous precepts stored,<br> +Could dance in hall, and carve at board, 100<br> +And frame love-ditties passing rare,<br> +And sing them to a lady fair.<br> +<br> +<br> +VIII.<br> +<br> +Four men-at-arms came at their backs,<br> +With halbert, bill, and battle-axe:<br> +They bore Lord Marmion’s lance so strong, +105<br> +And led his sumpter-mules along,<br> +And ambling palfrey, when at need<br> +Him listed ease his battle-steed.<br> +The last and trustiest of the four,<br> +On high his forky pennon bore; 110<br> +Like swallow’s tail, in shape and hue,<br> +Flutter’d the streamer glossy blue,<br> +Where, blazon’d sable, as before,<br> +The towering falcon seem’d to soar.<br> +Last, twenty yeomen, two and two, +115<br> +In hosen black, and jerkins blue,<br> +With falcons broider’d on each breast,<br> +Attended on their lord’s behest.<br> +Each, chosen for an archer good,<br> +Knew hunting-craft by lake or wood; +120<br> +Each one a six-foot bow could bend,<br> +And far a cloth-yard shaft could send;<br> +Each held a boar-spear tough and strong,<br> +And at their belts their quivers rung.<br> +Their dusty palfreys, and array, 125<br> +Show’d they had march’d a weary way.<br> +<br> +<br> +IX.<br> +<br> +‘Tis meet that I should tell you now,<br> +How fairly arm’d, and order’d how,<br> + The soldiers of the guard,<br> +With musket, pike, and morion, 130<br> +To welcome noble Marmion,<br> + Stood in the Castle-yard;<br> +Minstrels and trumpeters were there,<br> +The gunner held his linstock yare,<br> + For welcome-shot prepared: 135<br> +Enter’d the train, and such a clang,<br> +As then through all his turrets rang,<br> + Old Norham never heard.<br> +<br> +<br> +X.<br> +<br> +The guards their morrice-pikes advanced,<br> + The trumpets flourish’d brave, +140<br> +The cannon from the ramparts glanced,<br> + And thundering welcome gave.<br> +A blithe salute, in martial sort,<br> + The minstrels well might sound,<br> +For, as Lord Marmion cross’d the court, +145<br> + He scatter’d angels round.<br> +‘Welcome to Norham, Marmion!<br> + Stout heart, and open hand!<br> +Well dost thou brook thy gallant roan,<br> + Thou flower of English land!’ +150<br> +<br> +<br> +XI.<br> +<br> +Two pursuivants, whom tabarts deck,<br> +With silver scutcheon round their neck,<br> + Stood on the steps of stone,<br> +By which you reach the donjon gate,<br> +And there, with herald pomp and state, 155<br> + They hail’d Lord Marmion:<br> +They hail’d him Lord of Fontenaye,<br> +Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye,<br> + Of Tamworth tower and town;<br> +And he, their courtesy to requite, 160<br> +Gave them a chain of twelve marks’ weight,<br> + All as he lighted down.<br> +‘Now, largesse, largesse, Lord Marmion,<br> + Knight of the crest of gold!<br> +A blazon’d shield, in battle won, +165<br> +Ne’er guarded heart so bold.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XII.<br> +<br> +They marshall’d him to the Castle-hall,<br> + Where the guests stood all aside,<br> +And loudly nourish’d the trumpet-call,<br> + And the heralds loudly cried, +170<br> +--‘Room, lordings, room for Lord Marmion,<br> + With the crest and helm of gold!<br> +Full well we know the trophies won<br> + In the lists at Cottiswold:<br> +There, vainly Ralph de Wilton strove 175<br> + ‘Gainst Marmion’s force to stand;<br> +To him he lost his lady-love,<br> + And to the King his land.<br> +Ourselves beheld the listed field,<br> + A sight both sad and fair; 180<br> +We saw Lord Marmion pierce his shield,<br> + And saw his saddle bare;<br> +We saw the victor win the crest,<br> + He wears with worthy pride;<br> +And on the gibbet-tree, reversed, +185<br> + His foeman’s scutcheon tied.<br> +Place, nobles, for the Falcon-Knight!<br> + Room, room, ye gentles gay,<br> +For him who conquer’d in the right,<br> + Marmion of Fontenaye!’ +190<br> +<br> +<br> +XIII.<br> +<br> +Then stepp’d, to meet that noble Lord,<br> + Sir Hugh the Heron bold,<br> +Baron of Twisell, and of Ford,<br> + And Captain of the Hold.<br> +He led Lord Marmion to the deas, 195<br> + Raised o’er the pavement high,<br> +And placed him in the upper place<br> + They feasted full and high;<br> +The whiles a Northern harper rude<br> +Chanted a rhyme of deadly feud, +200<br> + ‘<i>How the fierce Thirwalls, and Ridleys all,<br> + Stout Willimondswick,<br> + And Hardriding Dick,<br> + And Hughie of Hawdon, and Will o’ the Wall,<br> + Have set on Sir Albany Featherstonhaugh, </i> +205<br> +<i>And taken his life at the Deadman’s-shaw</i>.’<br> + Scantly Lord Marmion’s ear could brook<br> + The harper’s barbarous lay;<br> + Yet much he praised the pains he took,<br> + And well those pains did pay 210<br> +For lady’s suit, and minstrel’s strain,<br> +By knight should ne’er be heard in vain,<br> +<br> +<br> +XIV.<br> +<br> +‘Now, good Lord Marmion,’ Heron says,<br> + ‘Of your fair courtesy,<br> +I pray you bide some little space +215<br> + In this poor tower with me.<br> +Here may you keep your arms from rust,<br> + May breathe your war-horse well;<br> +Seldom hath pass’d a week but giust<br> + Or feat of arms befell: +220<br> +The Scots can rein a mettled steed;<br> + And love to couch a spear:-<br> +Saint George! a stirring life they lead,<br> + That have such neighbours near.<br> +Then stay with us a little space, +225<br> + Our northern wars to learn;<br> +I pray you, for your lady’s grace!’-<br> + Lord Marmion’s brow grew stern.<br> +<br> +<br> +XV.<br> +<br> +The Captain mark’d his alter’d look,<br> + And gave a squire the sign; +230<br> +A mighty wassell-bowl he took,<br> + And crown’d it high with wine.<br> +‘Now pledge me here, Lord Marmion:<br> + But first I pray thee fair,<br> +Where hast thou left that page of thine, 235<br> + That used to serve thy cup of wine,<br> + Whose beauty was so rare?<br> +When last in Raby towers we met,<br> + The boy I closely eyed,<br> +And often mark’d his cheeks were wet, +240<br> + With tears he fain would hide:<br> +His was no rugged horse-boy’s hand,<br> +To burnish shield or sharpen brand,<br> + Or saddle battle-steed;<br> +But meeter seem’d for lady fair, +245<br> +To fan her cheek, or curl her hair,<br> +Or through embroidery, rich and rare,<br> + The slender silk to lead:<br> +His skin was fair, his ringlets gold,<br> + His bosom-when he sigh’d, +250<br> +The russet doublet’s rugged fold<br> + Could scarce repel its pride!<br> +Say, hast thou given that lovely youth<br> + To serve in lady’s bower?<br> +Or was the gentle page, in sooth, +255<br> + A gentle paramour?’<br> +<br> +<br> +XVI.<br> +<br> +Lord Marmion ill could brook such jest;<br> + He roll’d his kindling eye,<br> +With pain his rising wrath suppress’d,<br> + Yet made a calm reply: 260<br> +‘That boy thou thought’st so goodly fair,<br> + He might not brook the northern air.<br> +More of his fate if thou wouldst learn,<br> + I left him sick in Lindisfarn:<br> +Enough of him.-But, Heron, say, 265<br> +Why does thy lovely lady gay<br> +Disdain to grace the hall to-day?<br> +Or has that dame, so fair and sage,<br> +Gone on some pious pilgrimage?’-<br> +He spoke in covert scorn, for fame 270<br> +Whisper’d light tales of Heron’s dame.<br> +<br> +<br> +XVII.<br> +<br> +Unmark’d, at least unreck’d, the taunt,<br> + Careless the Knight replied,<br> +‘No bird, whose feathers gaily flaunt,<br> + Delights in cage to bide: +275<br> +Norham is grim and grated close,<br> +Hemm’d in by battlement and fosse,<br> + And many a darksome tower;<br> +And better loves my lady bright<br> +To sit in liberty and light, 280<br> + In fair Queen Margaret’s bower.<br> +We hold our greyhound in our hand,<br> + Our falcon on our glove;<br> +But where shall we find leash or band,<br> + For dame that loves to rove? 285<br> +Let the wild falcon soar her swing,<br> +She’ll stoop when she has tired her wing.’--<br> +<br> +<br> +XVIII.<br> +<br> +‘Nay, if with Royal James’s bride<br> +The lovely Lady Heron bide,<br> +Behold me here a messenger, +290<br> +Your tender greetings prompt to bear;<br> +For, to the Scottish court address’d,<br> +I journey at our King’s behest,<br> +And pray you, of your grace, provide<br> +For me, and mine, a trusty guide. +295<br> +I have not ridden in Scotland since<br> +James back’d the cause of that mock prince,<br> +Warbeck, that Flemish counterfeit,<br> +Who on the gibbet paid the cheat.<br> +Then did I march with Surrey’s power, +300<br> +What time we razed old Ayton tower.’-<br> +<br> +<br> +XIX.<br> +<br> +‘For such-like need, my lord, I trow,<br> +Norham can find you guides enow;<br> +For here be some have prick’d as far,<br> +On Scottish ground, as to Dunbar; +305<br> +Have drunk the monks of St. Bothan’s ale,<br> +And driven the beeves of Lauderdale;<br> +Harried the wives of Greenlaw’s goods,<br> +And given them light to set their hoods.’-<br> +<br> +<br> +XX.<br> +<br> +‘Now, in good sooth,’ Lord Marmion cried, + 310<br> +‘Were I in warlike wise to ride,<br> +A better guard I would not lack,<br> +Than your stout forayers at my back;<br> +But as in form of peace I go,<br> +A friendly messenger, to know, 315<br> +Why through all Scotland, near and far,<br> +Their King is mustering troops for war,<br> +The sight of plundering Border spears<br> +Might justify suspicious fears,<br> +And deadly feud, or thirst of spoil, 320<br> +Break out in some unseemly broil:<br> +A herald were my fitting guide;<br> +Or friar, sworn in peace to bide;<br> +Or pardoner, or travelling priest,<br> +Or strolling pilgrim, at the least.’ +325<br> +<br> +<br> +XXI.<br> +<br> +The Captain mused a little space,<br> +And pass’d his hand across his face.<br> +-’Fain would I find the guide you want,<br> +But ill may spare a pursuivant,<br> +The only men that safe can ride +330<br> +Mine errands on the Scottish side:<br> +And though a bishop built this fort,<br> +Few holy brethren here resort;<br> +Even our good chaplain, as I ween,<br> +Since our last siege, we have not seen: +335<br> +The mass he might not sing or say,<br> +Upon one stinted meal a-day;<br> +So, safe he sat in Durham aisle,<br> +And pray’d for our success the while.<br> +Our Norham vicar, woe betide, +340<br> +Is all too well in case to ride;<br> +The priest of Shoreswood-he could rein<br> +The wildest war-horse in your train;<br> +But then, no spearman in the hall<br> +Will sooner swear, or stab, or brawl. +345<br> +Friar John of Tillmouth were the man:<br> +A blithesome brother at the can,<br> +A welcome guest in hall and bower,<br> +He knows each castle, town, and tower,<br> +In which the wine and ale is good, 350<br> +‘Twixt Newcastle and Holy-Rood.<br> +But that good man, as ill befalls,<br> +Hath seldom left our castle walls,<br> +Since, on the vigil of St. Bede,<br> +In evil hour, he cross’d the Tweed, +355<br> +To teach Dame Alison her creed.<br> +Old Bughtrig found him with his wife;<br> +And John, an enemy to strife,<br> +Sans frock and hood, fled for his life.<br> +The jealous churl hath deeply swore, 360<br> +That, if again he venture o’er,<br> +He shall shrieve penitent no more.<br> +Little he loves such risks, I know;<br> +Yet, in your guard, perchance will go.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXII.<br> +<br> +Young Selby, at the fair hall-board, 365<br> +Carved to his uncle and that lord,<br> +And reverently took up the word.<br> +‘Kind uncle, woe were we each one,<br> +If harm should hap to brother John.<br> +He is a man of mirthful speech, +370<br> +Can many a game and gambol teach;<br> +Full well at tables can he play,<br> +And sweep at bowls the stake away.<br> +None can a lustier carol bawl,<br> +The needfullest among us all, +375<br> +When time hangs heavy in the hall,<br> +And snow comes thick at Christmas tide,<br> +And we can neither hunt, nor ride<br> +A foray on the Scottish side.<br> +The vow’d revenge of Bughtrig rude, +380<br> +May end in worse than loss of hood.<br> +Let Friar John, in safety, still<br> +In chimney-corner snore his fill,<br> +Roast hissing crabs, or flagons swill:<br> +Last night, to Norham there came one, +385<br> +Will better guide Lord Marmion.’-<br> +‘Nephew,’ quoth Heron, ‘by my fay,<br> +Well hast thou spoke; say forth thy say,’-<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIII<br> +<br> +‘Here is a holy Palmer come,<br> +From Salem first, and last from Rome; +390<br> +One, that hath kiss’d the blessed tomb,<br> +And visited each holy shrine,<br> +In Araby and Palestine;<br> +On hills of Armenie hath been,<br> +Where Noah’s ark may yet be seen; +395<br> +By that Red Sea, too, hath he trod,<br> +Which parted at the Prophet’s rod;<br> +In Sinai’s wilderness he saw<br> +The Mount, where Israel heard the law,<br> +‘Mid thunder-dint and flashing levin, +400<br> +And shadows, mists, and darkness, given.<br> +He shows Saint James’s cockle-shell,<br> +Of fair Montserrat, too, can tell;<br> + And of that Grot where Olives nod,<br> +Where, darling of each heart and eye, +405<br> +From all the youth of Sicily,<br> + Saint Rosalie retired to God.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIV.<br> +<br> +‘To stout Saint George of Norwich merry,<br> +Saint Thomas, too, of Canterbury,<br> +Cuthbert of Durham and Saint Bede, 410<br> +For his sins’ pardon hath he pray’d.<br> +He knows the passes of the North,<br> +And seeks far shrines beyond the Forth;<br> +Little he eats, and long will wake,<br> +And drinks but of the stream or lake. +415<br> +This were a guide o’er moor and dale;<br> +But, when our John hath quaff’d his ale,<br> +As little as the wind that blows,<br> +And warms itself against his nose,<br> +Kens he, or cares, which way he goes.’- +420<br> +<br> +<br> +XXV.<br> +<br> +‘Gramercy!’ quoth Lord Marmion,<br> +‘Full loth were I, that Friar John,<br> +That venerable man, for me,<br> +Were placed in fear or jeopardy.<br> +If this same Palmer will me lead 425<br> + From hence to Holy-Rood,<br> +Like his good saint, I’ll pay his meed,<br> +Instead of cockle-shell, or bead,<br> + With angels fair and good.<br> +I love such holy ramblers; still 430<br> +They know to charm a weary hill,<br> + With song, romance, or lay:<br> +Some jovial tale, or glee, or jest,<br> +Some lying legend, at the least,<br> + They bring to cheer the way.’- +435<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVI.<br> +<br> +‘Ah! noble sir,’ young Selby said,<br> +And finger on his lip he laid,<br> +‘This man knows much, perchance e’en more<br> +Than he could learn by holy lore.<br> +Still to himself he’s muttering, +440<br> +And shrinks as at some unseen thing.<br> +Last night we listen’d at his cell;<br> +Strange sounds we heard, and, sooth to tell,<br> +He murmur’d on till morn, howe’er<br> +No living mortal could be near. +445<br> +Sometimes I thought I heard it plain,<br> +As other voices spoke again.<br> +I cannot tell-I like it not-<br> +Friar John hath told us it is wrote,<br> +No conscience clear, and void of wrong, +450<br> +Can rest awake, and pray so long.<br> +Himself still sleeps before his beads<br> +Have mark’d ten aves, and two creeds.’-<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVII.<br> +<br> +-‘Let pass,’ quoth Marmion; ‘by my fay,<br> +This man shall guide me on my way, 455<br> +Although the great arch-fiend and he<br> +Had sworn themselves of company.<br> +So please you, gentle youth, to call<br> +This Palmer to the Castle-hall.’<br> +The summon’d Palmer came in place; +460<br> +His sable cowl o’erhung his face;<br> +In his black mantle was he clad,<br> +With Peter’s keys, in cloth of red,<br> + On his broad shoulders wrought;<br> +The scallop shell his cap did deck; +465<br> +The crucifix around his neck<br> + Was from Loretto brought;<br> +His sandals were with travel tore,<br> +Staff, budget, bottle, scrip, he wore;<br> +The faded palm-branch in his hand +470<br> +Show’d pilgrim from the Holy Land.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVIII.<br> +<br> +When as the Palmer came in hall,<br> +Nor lord, nor knight, was there more tall,<br> +Or had a statelier step withal,<br> + Or look’d more high and keen; +475<br> +For no saluting did he wait,<br> +But strode across the hall of state,<br> +And fronted Marmion where he sate,<br> + As he his peer had been.<br> +But his gaunt frame was worn with toil; +480<br> +His cheek was sunk, alas the while!<br> +And when he struggled at a smile,<br> + His eye look ‘d haggard wild:<br> +Poor wretch! the mother that him bare,<br> +If she had been in presence there, 485<br> +In his wan face, and sun-burn’d hair,<br> + She had not known her child.<br> +Danger, long travel, want, or woe,<br> +Soon change the form that best we know-<br> +For deadly fear can time outgo, +490<br> + And blanch at once the hair;<br> +Hard toil can roughen form and face,<br> +And want can quench the eye’s bright grace,<br> +Nor does old age a wrinkle trace<br> + More deeply than despair. +495<br> +Happy whom none of these befall,<br> +But this poor Palmer knew them all.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIX.<br> +<br> +Lord Marmion then his boon did ask;<br> +The Palmer took on him the task,<br> +So he would march with morning tide, 500<br> +To Scottish court to be his guide.<br> +‘But I have solemn vows to pay,<br> +And may not linger by the way,<br> + To fair St. Andrews bound,<br> +Within the ocean-cave to pray, 505<br> +Where good Saint Rule his holy lay,<br> +From midnight to the dawn of day,<br> + Sung to the billows’ sound;<br> +Thence to Saint Fillan’s blessed well,<br> +Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel, 510<br> + And the crazed brain restore:<br> +Saint Mary grant, that cave or spring<br> +Could back to peace my bosom bring,<br> + Or bid it throb no more!’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXX.<br> +<br> +And now the midnight draught of sleep, 515<br> +Where wine and spices richly steep,<br> +In massive bowl of silver deep,<br> + The page presents on knee.<br> +Lord Marmion drank a fair good rest,<br> +The Captain pledged his noble guest, 520<br> +The cup went through among the rest,<br> + Who drain’d it merrily;<br> +Alone the Palmer pass’d it by,<br> +Though Selby press’d him courteously.<br> +This was a sign the feast was o’er; +525<br> +It hush’d the merry wassel roar,<br> + The minstrels ceased to sound.<br> +Soon in the castle nought was heard,<br> +But the slow footstep of the guard,<br> + Pacing his sober round. +530<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXI.<br> +<br> +With early dawn Lord Marmion rose:<br> +And first the chapel doors unclose;<br> +Then, after morning rites were done,<br> +(A hasty mass from Friar John,)<br> +And knight and squire had broke their fast, +535<br> +On rich substantial repast,<br> +Lord Marmion’s bugles blew to horse:<br> +Then came the stirrup-cup in course:<br> +Between the Baron and his host,<br> +No point of courtesy was lost; 540<br> +High thanks were by Lord Marmion paid,<br> +Solemn excuse the Captain made,<br> +Till, filing from the gate, had pass’d<br> +That noble train, their Lord the last.<br> +Then loudly rung the trumpet call; 545<br> +Thunder’d the cannon from the wall,<br> + And shook the Scottish shore;<br> +Around the castle eddied slow,<br> +Volumes of smoke as white as snow,<br> + And hid its turrets hoar; +550<br> +Till they roli’d forth upon the air,<br> +And met the river breezes there,<br> +Which gave again the prospect fair.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND</b>.<br> +<br> +<i>TO THE REV JOHN MARRIOTT, A. M.<br> +<br> +Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest</i>.<br> +<br> +The scenes are desert now, and bare<br> +Where flourish’d once a forest fair,<br> +When these waste glens with copse were lined,<br> +And peopled with the hart and hind.<br> +Yon Thorn-perchance whose prickly spears 5<br> +Have fenced him for three hundred years,<br> +While fell around his green compeers-<br> +Yon lonely Thorn, would he could tell<br> +The changes of his parent dell,<br> +Since he, so grey and stubborn now, 10<br> +Waved in each breeze a sapling bough;<br> +Would he could tell how deep the shade<br> +A thousand mingled branches made;<br> +How broad the shadows of the oak,<br> +How clung the rowan to the rock, +15<br> +And through the foliage show’d his head,<br> +With narrow leaves and berries red;<br> +What pines on every mountain sprung,<br> +O’er every dell what birches hung,<br> +In every breeze what aspens shook, +20<br> +What alders shaded every brook!<br> +<br> + ‘Here, in my shade,’ methinks he’d say,<br> +‘The mighty stag at noon-tide lay:<br> +The wolf I’ve seen, a fiercer game,<br> +(The neighbouring dingle bears his name,) 25<br> +With lurching step around me prowl,<br> +And stop, against the moon to howl;<br> +The mountain-boar, on battle set,<br> +His tusks upon my stem would whet;<br> +While doe, and roe, and red-deer good, +30<br> +Have bounded by, through gay green-wood.<br> +Then oft, from Newark’s riven tower,<br> +Sallied a Scottish monarch’s power:<br> +A thousand vassals muster’d round,<br> +With horse, and hawk, and horn, and hound; +35<br> +And I might see the youth intent,<br> +Guard every pass with crossbow bent;<br> +And through the brake the rangers stalk,<br> +And falc’ners hold the ready hawk,<br> +And foresters, in green-wood trim, +40<br> +Lead in the leash the gazehounds grim,<br> +Attentive, as the bratchet’s bay<br> +From the dark covert drove the prey,<br> +To slip them as he broke away.<br> +The startled quarry bounds amain, 45<br> +As fast the gallant greyhounds strain;<br> +Whistles the arrow from the bow,<br> +Answers the harquebuss below;<br> +While all the rocking hills reply,<br> +To hoof-clang, hound, and hunters’ cry, +50<br> +And bugles ringing lightsomely.’<br> +<br> + Of such proud huntings, many tales<br> +Yet linger in our lonely dales,<br> +Up pathless Ettrick and on Yarrow,<br> +Where erst the outlaw drew his arrow. 55<br> +But not more blithe that silvan court,<br> +Than we have been at humbler sport;<br> +Though small our pomp, and mean our game,<br> +Our mirth, dear Marriott, was the same.<br> +Remember’st thou my greyhounds true? +60<br> +O’er holt or hill there never flew,<br> +From slip or leash there never sprang,<br> +More fleet of foot, or sure of fang.<br> +Nor dull, between each merry chase,<br> +Pass’d by the intermitted space; +65<br> +For we had fair resource in store,<br> +In Classic and in Gothic lore:<br> +We mark’d each memorable scene,<br> +And held poetic talk between;<br> +Nor hill, nor brook, we paced along, +70<br> +But had its legend or its song.<br> +All silent now-for now are still<br> +Thy bowers, untenanted Bowhill!<br> +No longer, from thy mountains dun,<br> +The yeoman hears the well-known gun, +75<br> +And while his honest heart glows warm,<br> +At thought of his paternal farm,<br> +Round to his mates a brimmer fills,<br> +And drinks, ‘The Chieftain of the Hills!’<br> +No fairy forms, in Yarrow’s bowers, +80<br> +Trip o’er the walks, or tend the flowers,<br> +Fair as the elves whom Janet saw<br> +By moonlight dance on Carterhaugh;<br> +No youthful Baron’s left to grace<br> +The Forest-Sheriff’s lonely chase, +85<br> +And ape, in manly step and tone,<br> +The majesty of Oberon:<br> +And she is gone, whose lovely face<br> +Is but her least and lowest grace;<br> +Though if to Sylphid Queen ‘twere given, +90<br> +To show our earth the charms of Heaven,<br> +She could not glide along the air,<br> +With form more light, or face more fair.<br> +No more the widow’s deafen’d ear<br> +Grows quick that lady’s step to hear: +95<br> +At noontide she expects her not,<br> +Nor busies her to trim the cot;<br> +Pensive she turns her humming wheel,<br> +Or pensive cooks her orphans’ meal,<br> +Yet blesses, ere she deals their bread, +100<br> +The gentle hand by which they’re fed.<br> +<br> + From Yair,-which hills so closely bind,<br> +Scarce can the Tweed his passage find,<br> +Though much he fret, and chafe, and toil,<br> +Till all his eddying currents boil,- 105<br> +Her long descended lord is gone,<br> +And left us by the stream alone.<br> +And much I miss those sportive boys,<br> +Companions of my mountain joys,<br> +Just at the age ‘twixt boy and youth, +110<br> +When thought is speech, and speech is truth.<br> +Close to my side, with what delight<br> +They press’d to hear of Wallace wight,<br> +When, pointing to his airy mound,<br> +I call’d his ramparts holy ground! +115<br> +Kindled their brows to hear me speak;<br> +And I have smiled, to feel my cheek,<br> +Despite the difference of our years,<br> +Return again the glow of theirs.<br> +Ah, happy boys! such feelings pure, +120<br> +They will not, cannot long endure;<br> +Condemn’d to stem the world’s rude tide,<br> +You may not linger by the side;<br> +For Fate shall thrust you from the shore,<br> +And passion ply the sail and oar. +125<br> +Yet cherish the remembrance still,<br> +Of the lone mountain, and the rill;<br> +For trust, dear boys, the time will come,<br> +When fiercer transport shall be dumb,<br> +And you will think right frequently, 130<br> +But, well I hope, without a sigh,<br> +On the free hours that we have spent,<br> +Together, on the brown hill’s bent.<br> +<br> + When, musing on companions gone,<br> +We doubly feel ourselves alone, +135<br> +Something, my friend, we yet may gain,<br> +There is a pleasure in this pain:<br> +It soothes the love of lonely rest,<br> +Deep in each gentler heart impress’d.<br> +‘Tis silent amid worldly toils, +140<br> +And stifled soon by mental broils;<br> +But, in a bosom thus prepared,<br> +Its still small voice is often heard,<br> +Whispering a mingled sentiment,<br> +‘Twixt resignation and content. +145<br> +Oft in my mind such thoughts awake,<br> +By lone Saint Mary’s silent lake;<br> +Thou know’st it well,-nor fen, nor sedge,<br> +Pollute the pure lake’s crystal edge;<br> +Abrupt and sheer, the mountains sink 150<br> +At once upon the level brink;<br> +And just a trace of silver sand<br> +Marks where the water meets the land.<br> +Far in the mirror, bright and blue,<br> +Each hill’s huge outline you may view; +155<br> +Shaggy with heath, but lonely bare,<br> +Nor tree, nor bush, nor brake, is there,<br> +Save where, of land, yon slender line<br> +Bears thwart the lake the scatter’d pine.<br> +Yet even this nakedness has power, 160<br> +And aids the feeling of the hour:<br> +Nor thicket, dell, nor copse you spy,<br> +Where living thing conceal’d might lie;<br> +Nor point, retiring, hides a dell,<br> +Where swain, or woodman lone, might dwell; 165<br> +There’s nothing left to fancy’s guess,<br> +You see that all is loneliness:<br> +And silence aids-though the steep hills<br> +Send to the lake a thousand rills;<br> +In summer tide, so soft they weep, 170<br> +The sound but lulls the ear asleep;<br> +Your horse’s hoof-tread sounds too rude,<br> +So stilly is the solitude.<br> +<br> + Nought living meets the eye or ear,<br> +But well I ween the dead are near; 175<br> +For though, in feudal strife, a foe<br> +Hath laid Our Lady’s chapel low,<br> +Yet still, beneath the hallow’d soil,<br> +The peasant rests him from his toil,<br> +And, dying, bids his bones be laid, +180<br> +Where erst his simple fathers pray’d.<br> +<br> + If age had tamed the passions’ strife,<br> +And fate had cut my ties to life,<br> +Here have I thought, ‘twere sweet to dwell,<br> +And rear again the chaplain’s cell, +185<br> +Like that same peaceful hermitage,<br> +Where Milton long’d to spend his age.<br> +‘Twere sweet to mark the setting day,<br> +On Bourhope’s lonely top decay;<br> +And, as it faint and feeble died 190<br> +On the broad lake, and mountain’s side,<br> +To say, ‘Thus pleasures fade away;<br> +Youth, talents, beauty thus decay,<br> +And leave us dark, forlorn, and grey;’<br> +Then gaze on Dryhope’s ruin’d tower, + 195<br> +And think on Yarrow’s faded Flower:<br> +And when that mountain-sound I heard,<br> +Which bids us be for storm prepared,<br> +The distant rustling of his wings,<br> +As up his force the Tempest brings, +200<br> +‘Twere sweet, ere yet his terrors rave,<br> +To sit upon the Wizard’s grave;<br> +That Wizard Priest’s, whose bones are thrust,<br> +From company of holy dust;<br> +On which no sunbeam ever shines- 205<br> +(So superstition’s creed divines)-<br> +Thence view the lake, with sullen roar,<br> +Heave her broad billows to the shore;<br> +And mark the wild-swans mount the gale,<br> +Spread wide through mist their snowy sail, 210<br> +And ever stoop again, to lave<br> +Their bosoms on the surging wave;<br> +Then, when against the driving hail<br> +No longer might my plaid avail,<br> +Back to my lonely home retire, 215<br> +And light my lamp, and trim my fire;<br> +There ponder o’er some mystic lay,<br> +Till the wild tale had all its sway,<br> +And, in the bittern’s distant shriek,<br> +I heard unearthly voices speak, +220<br> +And thought the Wizard Priest was come,<br> +To claim again his ancient home!<br> +And bade my busy fancy range,<br> +To frame him fitting shape and strange,<br> +Till from the task my brow I clear’d, +225<br> +And smiled to think that I had fear’d.<br> +<br> + But chief, ‘twere sweet to think such life,<br> +(Though but escape from fortune’s strife,)<br> +Something most matchless good and wise,<br> +A great and grateful sacrifice; +230<br> +And deem each hour, to musing given,<br> +A step upon the road to heaven.<br> +<br> + Yet him, whose heart is ill at ease,<br> +Such peaceful solitudes displease;<br> +He loves to drown his bosom’s jar +235<br> +Amid the elemental war:<br> +And my black Palmer’s choice had been<br> +Some ruder and more savage scene,<br> +Like that which frowns round dark Loch-skene.<br> +There eagles scream from isle to shore; +240<br> +Down all the rocks the torrents roar;<br> +O’er the black waves incessant driven,<br> +Dark mists infect the summer heaven;<br> +Through the rude barriers of the lake,<br> +Away its hurrying waters break, +245<br> +Faster and whiter dash and curl,<br> +Till down yon dark abyss they hurl.<br> +Rises the fog-smoke white as snow,<br> +Thunders the viewless stream below,<br> +Diving, as if condemn’d to lave +250<br> +Some demon’s subterranean cave,<br> +Who, prison’d by enchanter’s spell,<br> +Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell.<br> +And well that Palmer’s form and mien<br> +Had suited with the stormy scene, +255<br> +Just on the edge, straining his ken<br> +To view the bottom of the den,<br> +Where, deep deep down, and far within,<br> +Toils with the rocks the roaring linn;<br> +Then, issuing forth one foamy wave, +260<br> +And wheeling round the Giant’s Grave,<br> +White as the snowy charger’s tail,<br> +Drives down the pass of Moffatdale.<br> +<br> + Marriott, thy harp, on Isis strung,<br> +To many a Border theme has rung: 265<br> +Then list to me, and thou shalt know<br> +Of this mysterious Man of Woe.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO SECOND</b>.<br> +<br> +THE CONVENT.<br> +<br> +1.<br> +<br> +THE breeze, which swept away the smoke<br> + Round Norham Castle roll’d,<br> +When all the loud artillery spoke,<br> +With lightning-flash, and thunder-stroke,<br> +As Marmion left the Hold,- 5<br> +It curl’d not Tweed alone, that breeze,<br> +For, far upon Northumbrian seas,<br> + It freshly blew, and strong,<br> +Where, from high Whitby’s cloister’d pile,<br> +Bound to Saint Cuthbert’s Holy Isle, +10<br> + It bore a bark along.<br> +Upon the gale she stoop’d her side,<br> +And bounded o’er the swelling tide,<br> + As she were dancing home;<br> +The merry seamen laugh’d, to see +15<br> +Their gallant ship so lustily<br> +Furrow the green sea-foam.<br> +Much joy’d they in their honour’d freight;<br> +For, on the deck, in chair of state,<br> +The Abbess of Saint Hilda placed, 20<br> +With five fair nuns, the galley graced.<br> +<br> +<br> +II.<br> +<br> +‘Twas sweet, to see these holy maids,<br> +Like birds escaped to green-wood shades,<br> + Their first flight from the cage,<br> +How timid, and how curious too, 25<br> +For all to them was strange and new,<br> +And all the common sights they view,<br> + Their wonderment engage.<br> +One eyed the shrouds and swelling sail,<br> + With many a benedicite; 30<br> +One at the rippling surge grew pale,<br> + And would for terror pray;<br> +Then shriek’d, because the seadog, nigh,<br> +His round black head, and sparkling eye,<br> + Rear’d o’er the foaming spray; + 35<br> +And one would still adjust her veil,<br> +Disorder’d by the summer gale,<br> +Perchance lest some more worldly eye<br> +Her dedicated charms might spy;<br> +Perchance, because such action graced 40<br> +Her fair-turn’d arm and slender waist.<br> +Light was each simple bosom there,<br> +Save two, who ill might pleasure share,-<br> +The Abbess, and the Novice Clare.<br> +<br> +<br> +III.<br> +<br> +The Abbess was of noble blood, +45<br> +But early took the veil and hood,<br> +Ere upon life she cast a look,<br> +Or knew the world that she forsook.<br> +Fair too she was, and kind had been<br> +As she was fair, but ne’er had seen +50<br> +For her a timid lover sigh,<br> +Nor knew the influence of her eye.<br> +Love, to her ear, was but a name,<br> +Combined with vanity and shame;<br> +Her hopes, her fears, her joys, were all +55<br> +Bounded within the cloister wall:<br> +The deadliest sin her mind could reach<br> +Was of monastic rule the breach;<br> +And her ambition’s highest aim<br> +To emulate Saint Hilda’s fame. +60<br> +For this she gave her ample dower,<br> +To raise the convent’s eastern tower;<br> +For this, with carving rare and quaint,<br> +She deck’d the chapel of the saint,<br> +And gave the relic-shrine of cost, +65<br> +With ivory and gems emboss’d.<br> +The poor her Convent’s bounty blest,<br> +The pilgrim in its halls found rest.<br> +<br> +<br> +IV.<br> +<br> +Black was her garb, her rigid rule<br> +Reform’d on Benedictine school; +70<br> +Her cheek was pale, her form was spare:<br> +Vigils, and penitence austere,<br> +Had early quench’d the light of youth,<br> +But gentle was the dame, in sooth;<br> +Though, vain of her religious sway, 75<br> +She loved to see her maids obey,<br> +Yet nothing stern was she in cell,<br> +And the nuns loved their Abbess well.<br> +Sad was this voyage to the dame;<br> +Summon’d to Lindisfame, she came, +80<br> +There, with Saint Cuthbert’s Abbot old,<br> +And Tynemouth’s Prioress, to hold<br> +A chapter of Saint Benedict,<br> +For inquisition stern and strict,<br> +On two apostates from the faith, +85<br> +And, if need were, to doom to death.<br> +<br> +<br> +V.<br> +<br> +Nought say I here of Sister Clare,<br> +Save this, that she was young and fair;<br> +As yet a novice unprofess’d,<br> +Lovely and gentle, but distress’d. +90<br> +She was betroth’d to one now dead,<br> +Or worse, who had dishonour’d fled.<br> +Her kinsmen bade her give her hand<br> +To one, who loved her for her land:<br> +Herself, almost broken-hearted now, 95<br> +Was bent to take the vestal vow,<br> +And shroud, within Saint Hilda’s gloom,<br> +Her blasted hopes and wither’d bloom.<br> +<br> +<br> +VI.<br> +<br> +She sate upon the galley’s prow,<br> +And seem’d to mark the waves below; +100<br> +Nay, seem’d, so fix’d her look and eye,<br> +To count them as they glided by.<br> +She saw them not-‘twas seeming all-<br> +Far other scene her thoughts recall,-<br> +A sun-scorch’d desert, waste and bare, +105<br> +Nor waves, nor breezes, murmur’d there;<br> +There saw she, where some careless hand<br> +O’er a dead corpse had heap’d the sand,<br> +To hide it till the jackals come,<br> +To tear it from the scanty tomb.- 110<br> +See what a woful look was given,<br> +As she raised up her eyes to heaven!<br> +<br> +<br> +VII.<br> +<br> +Lovely, and gentle, and distress’d-<br> +These charms might tame the fiercest breast:<br> +Harpers have sung, and poets told, 115<br> +That he, in fury uncontroll’d,<br> +The shaggy monarch of the wood,<br> +Before a virgin, fair and good,<br> +Hath pacified his savage mood.<br> +But passions in the human frame, 120<br> +Oft put the lion’s rage to shame:<br> +And jealousy, by dark intrigue,<br> +With sordid avarice in league,<br> +Had practised with their bowl and knife,<br> +Against the mourner’s harmless life. +125<br> +This crime was charged ‘gainst those who lay<br> +Prison’d in Cuthbert’s islet grey.<br> +<br> +<br> +VIII.<br> +<br> +And now the vessel skirts the strand<br> +Of mountainous Northumberland;<br> +Towns, towers, and halls, successive rise, 130<br> +And catch the nuns’ delighted eyes.<br> +Monk-Wearmouth soon behind them lay,<br> +And Tynemouth’s priory and bay;<br> +They mark’d, amid her trees, the hall<br> +Of lofty Seaton-Delaval; 135<br> +They saw the Blythe and Wansbeck floods<br> +Rush to the sea through sounding woods;<br> +They pass’d the tower of Widderington,<br> +Mother of many a valiant son;<br> +At Coquet-isle their beads they tell 140<br> +To the good Saint who own’d the cell;<br> +Then did the Alne attention claim,<br> +And Warkworth, proud of Percy’s name;<br> +And next, they cross’d themselves, to hear<br> +The whitening breakers sound so near, +145<br> +There, boiling through the rocks, they roar,<br> +On Dunstanborough’s cavern’d shore;<br> +Thy tower, proud Bamborough, mark’d they there,<br> +King Ida’s castle, huge and square,<br> +From its tall rock look grimly down, 150<br> +And on the swelling ocean frown;<br> +Then from the coast they bore away,<br> +And reach’d the Holy Island’s bay.<br> +<br> +<br> +IX.<br> +<br> +The tide did now its flood-mark gain,<br> +And girdled in the Saint’s domain: +155<br> +For, with the flow and ebb, its style<br> +Varies from continent to isle;<br> +Dry-shod, o’er sands, twice every day,<br> +The pilgrims to the shrine find way;<br> +Twice every day, the waves efface +160<br> +Of staves and sandall’d feet the trace.<br> +As to the port the galley flew,<br> +Higher and higher rose to view<br> +The Castle with its battled walls,<br> +The ancient Monastery’s halls, +165<br> +A solemn, huge, and dark-red pile,<br> +Placed on the margin of the isle.<br> +<br> +<br> +X.<br> +<br> +In Saxon strength that Abbey frown’d,<br> +With massive arches broad and round,<br> + That rose alternate, row and row, +170<br> + On ponderous columns, short and low,<br> + Built ere the art was known,<br> + By pointed aisle, and shafted stalk,<br> + The arcades of an alley’d walk<br> + To emulate in stone. 175<br> +On the deep walls, the heathen Dane<br> +Had pour’d his impious rage in vain;<br> +And needful was such strength to these,<br> +Exposed to the tempestuous seas,<br> +Scourged by the winds’ eternal sway, +180<br> +Open to rovers fierce as they,<br> +Which could twelve hundred years withstand<br> +Winds, waves, and northern pirates’ hand.<br> +Not but that portions of the pile,<br> +Rebuilded in a later style, +185<br> +Show’d where the spoiler’s hand had been;<br> +Not but the wasting sea-breeze keen<br> +Had worn the pillar’s carving quaint,<br> +And moulder’d in his niche the saint,<br> +And rounded, with consuming power, 190<br> +The pointed angles of each tower;<br> +Yet still entire the Abbey stood,<br> +Like veteran, worn, but unsubdued.<br> +<br> +<br> +XI.<br> +<br> +Soon as they near’d his turrets strong,<br> +The maidens raised Saint Hilda’s song, +195<br> +And with the sea-wave and the wind,<br> +Their voices, sweetly shrill, combined,<br> + And made harmonious close;<br> +Then, answering from the sandy shore,<br> +Half-drown’d amid the breakers’ roar, + 200<br> + According chorus rose:<br> +Down to the haven of the Isle,<br> +The monks and nuns in order file,<br> + From Cuthbert’s cloisters grim;<br> +Banner, and cross, and relics there, 205<br> +To meet Saint Hilda’s maids, they bare;<br> +And, as they caught the sounds on air,<br> + They echoed back the hymn.<br> +The islanders, in joyous mood,<br> +Rush’d emulously through the flood, +210<br> + To hale the bark to land;<br> +Conspicuous by her veil and hood,<br> +Signing the cross, the Abbess stood,<br> + And bless’d them with her hand.<br> +<br> +<br> +XII.<br> +<br> +Suppose we now the welcome said, 215<br> +Suppose the Convent banquet made:<br> + All through the holy dome,<br> +Through cloister, aisle, and gallery,<br> +Wherever vestal maid might pry,<br> +No risk to meet unhallow’d eye, +220<br> + The stranger sisters roam:<br> +Till fell the evening damp with dew,<br> +And the sharp sea-breeze coldly blew,<br> +For there, even summer night is chill.<br> +Then, having stray’d and gazed their fill, +225<br> + They closed around the fire;<br> +And all, in turn, essay’d to paint<br> +The rival merits of their saint,<br> + A theme that ne’er can tire<br> +A holy maid; for, be it known, 230<br> +That their saint’s honour is their own.<br> +<br> +<br> +XIII.<br> +<br> +Then Whitby’s nuns exulting told,<br> +How to their house three Barons bold<br> + Must menial service do;<br> +While horns blow out a note of shame, +235<br> +And monks cry ‘Fye upon your name!<br> +In wrath, for loss of silvan game,<br> + Saint Hilda’s priest ye slew.’-<br> +‘This, on Ascension-day, each year,<br> +While labouring on our harbour-pier, 240<br> +Must Herbert, Bruce, and Percy hear.’-<br> +They told how in their convent-cell<br> +A Saxon princess once did dwell,<br> + The lovely Edelfled;<br> +And how, of thousand snakes, each one +245<br> +Was changed into a coil of stone,<br> + When holy Hilda pray’d;<br> +Themselves, within their holy bound,<br> +Their stony folds had often found.<br> +They told, how sea-fowls’ pinions fail, +250<br> +As over Whitby’s towers they sail,<br> +And, sinking down, with flutterings faint,<br> +They do their homage to the saint.<br> +<br> +<br> +XIV.<br> +<br> +Nor did Saint Cuthbert’s daughters fail,<br> +To vie with these in holy tale; +255<br> +His body’s resting-place, of old,<br> +How oft their patron changed, they told;<br> +How, when the rude Dane burn’d their pile,<br> +The monks fled forth from Holy Isle;<br> +O’er northern mountain, marsh, and moor, +260<br> +From sea to sea, from shore to shore,<br> +Seven years Saint Cuthbert’s corpse they bore.<br> + They rested them in fair Melrose;<br> + But though, alive, he loved it well,<br> + Not there his relics might repose; 265<br> + For, wondrous tale to tell!<br> + In his stone-coffin forth he rides,<br> + A ponderous bark for river tides,<br> + Yet light as gossamer it glides,<br> + Downward to Tilmouth cell. 270<br> +Nor long was his abiding there,<br> +Far southward did the saint repair;<br> +Chester-le-Street, and Rippon, saw<br> +His holy corpse, ere Wardilaw<br> + Hail’d him with joy and fear; +275<br> +And, after many wanderings past,<br> +He chose his lordly seat at last,<br> +Where his cathedral, huge and vast,<br> + Looks down upon the Wear;<br> +There, deep in Durham’s Gothic shade, +280<br> +His relics are in secret laid;<br> + But none may know the place,<br> +Save of his holiest servants three,<br> +Deep sworn to solemn secrecy,<br> + Who share that wondrous grace. 285<br> +<br> +<br> +XV.<br> +<br> +Who may his miracles declare!<br> +Even Scotland’s dauntless king, and heir,<br> + (Although with them they led<br> +Galwegians, wild as ocean’s gale,<br> +And Lodon’s knights, all sheathed in mail, +290<br> +And the bold men of Teviotdale,)<br> + Before his standard fled.<br> +‘Twas he, to vindicate his reign,<br> +Edged Alfred’s falchion on the Dane,<br> +And turn’d the Conqueror back again, +295<br> +When, with his Norman bowyer band,<br> +He came to waste Northumberland.<br> +<br> +<br> +XVI.<br> +<br> +But fain Saint Hilda’s nuns would learn<br> +If, on a rock, by Lindisfarne,<br> +Saint Cuthbert sits, and toils to frame +300<br> +The sea-born beads that bear his name:<br> +Such tales had Whitby’s fishers told,<br> +And said they might his shape behold,<br> + And hear his anvil sound;<br> +A deaden’d clang,-a huge dim form, +305<br> +Seen but, and heard, when gathering storm<br> + And night were closing round.<br> +But this, as tale of idle fame,<br> +The nuns of Lindisfarne disclaim.<br> +<br> +<br> +XVII.<br> +<br> +While round the fire such legends go, +310<br> +Far different was the scene of woe,<br> +Where, in a secret aisle beneath,<br> +Council was held of life and death.<br> + It was more dark and lone that vault,<br> + Than the worst dungeon cell: 315<br> + Old Colwulf built it, for his fault,<br> + In penitence to dwell,<br> +When he, for cowl and beads, laid down<br> +The Saxon battle-axe and crown.<br> +This den, which, chilling every sense +320<br> + Of feeling, hearing, sight,<br> +Was call’d the Vault of Penitence,<br> + Excluding air and light,<br> +Was, by the prelate Sexhelm, made<br> +A place of burial for such dead, 325<br> +As, having died in mortal sin,<br> +Might not be laid the church within.<br> +‘Twas now a place of punishment;<br> +Whence if so loud a shriek were sent,<br> + As reach’d the upper air, +330<br> +The hearers bless’d themselves, and said,<br> +The spirits of the sinful dead<br> + Bemoan’d their torments there.<br> +<br> +<br> +XVIII.<br> +<br> +But though, in the monastic pile,<br> +Did of this penitential aisle +335<br> + Some vague tradition go,<br> +Few only, save the Abbot, knew<br> +Where the place lay; and still more few<br> +Were those, who had from him the clew<br> + To that dread vault to go. 340<br> +Victim and executioner<br> +Were blindfold when transported there.<br> +In low dark rounds the arches hung,<br> +From the rude rock the side-walls sprung;<br> +The grave-stones, rudely sculptured o’er, +345<br> +Half sunk in earth, by time half wore,<br> +Were all the pavement of the floor;<br> +The mildew-drops fell one by one,<br> +With tinkling plash, upon the stone.<br> +A cresset, in an iron chain, 350<br> +Which served to light this drear domain,<br> +With damp and darkness seem’d to strive,<br> +As if it scarce might keep alive;<br> +And yet it dimly served to show<br> +The awful conclave met below. +355<br> +<br> +<br> +XIX.<br> +<br> +There, met to doom in secrecy,<br> +Were placed the heads of convents three:<br> +All servants of Saint Benedict,<br> +The statutes of whose order strict<br> + On iron table lay; 360<br> +In long black dress, on seats of stone,<br> +Behind were these three judges shown<br> + By the pale cresset’s ray:<br> +The Abbess of Saint Hilda’s, there,<br> +Sat for a space with visage bare, +365<br> +Until, to hide her bosom’s swell,<br> +And tear-drops that for pity fell,<br> + She closely drew her veil:<br> +Yon shrouded figure, as I guess,<br> +By her proud mien and flowing dress, 370<br> +Is Tynemouth’s haughty Prioress,<br> + And she with awe looks pale:<br> +And he, that Ancient Man, whose sight<br> +Has long been quench’d by age’s night,<br> +Upon whose wrinkled brow alone, +375<br> +Nor ruth, nor mercy’s trace, is shown,<br> + Whose look is hard and stern,-<br> +Saint Cuthbert’s Abbot is his style;<br> +For sanctity call’d, through the isle,<br> +The Saint of Lindisfarne. +380<br> +<br> +<br> +XX.<br> +<br> +Before them stood a guilty pair;<br> +But, though an equal fate they share,<br> +Yet one alone deserves our care.<br> +Her sex a page’s dress belied;<br> +The cloak and doublet, loosely tied, 385<br> +Obscured her charms, but could not hide.<br> + Her cap down o’er her face she drew;<br> + And, on her doublet breast,<br> +She tried to hide the badge of blue,<br> + Lord Marmion’s falcon crest. +390<br> +But, at the Prioress’ command,<br> +A Monk undid the silken band<br> + That tied her tresses fair,<br> +And raised the bonnet from her head,<br> +And down her slender form they spread, 395<br> + In ringlets rich and rare.<br> +Constance de Beverley they know,<br> +Sister profess’d of Fontevraud,<br> +Whom the Church number’d with the dead,<br> +For broken vows, and convent fled. 400<br> +<br> +<br> +XXI.<br> +<br> +When thus her face was given to view,<br> +(Although so pallid was her hue,<br> +It did a ghastly contrast bear<br> +To those bright ringlets glistering fair),<br> +Her look composed, and steady eye, 405<br> +Bespoke a matchless constancy;<br> +And there she stood so calm and pale,<br> +That, bur her breathing did not fail,<br> +And motion slight of eye and head,<br> +And of her bosom, warranted +410<br> +That neither sense nor pulse she lacks,<br> +You might have thought a form of wax,<br> +Wrought to the very life, was there;<br> +So still she was, so pale, so fair.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXII.<br> +<br> +Her comrade was a sordid soul, 415<br> + Such as does murder for a meed;<br> +Who, but of fear, knows no control,<br> +Because his conscience, sear’d and foul,<br> + Feels not the import of his deed;<br> +One, whose brute-feeling ne’er aspires +420<br> +Beyond his own more brute desires.<br> +Such tools the Tempter ever needs,<br> +To do the savagest of deeds;<br> +For them no vision’d terrors daunt,<br> +Their nights no fancied spectres haunt, +425<br> +One fear with them, of all most base,<br> +The fear of death,-alone finds place.<br> +This wretch was clad in frock and cowl,<br> +And ‘shamed not loud to moan and howl,<br> +His body on the floor to dash, 430<br> +And crouch, like hound beneath the lash;<br> +While his mute partner, standing near,<br> +Waited her doom without a tear.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIII.<br> +<br> +Yet well the luckless wretch might shriek,<br> +Well might her paleness terror speak! +435<br> +For there were seen in that dark wall,<br> +Two niches, narrow, deep, and tall;-<br> +Who enters at such grisly door,<br> +Shall ne’er, I ween, find exit more.<br> +In each a slender meal was laid, 440<br> +Of roots, of water, and of bread:<br> +By each, in Benedictine dress,<br> +Two haggard monks stood motionless;<br> +Who, holding high a blazing torch,<br> +Show’d the grim entrance of the porch: +445<br> +Reflecting back the smoky beam,<br> +The dark-red walls and arches gleam.<br> +Hewn stones and cement were display’d,<br> +And building tools in order laid.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIV.<br> +<br> +These executioners were chose, 450<br> +As men who were with mankind foes,<br> +And with despite and envy fired,<br> +Into the cloister had retired;<br> + Or who, in desperate doubt of grace,<br> + Strove, by deep penance, to efface 455<br> + Of some foul crime the stain;<br> + For, as the vassals of her will,<br> + Such men the Church selected still,<br> + As either joy’d in doing ill,<br> + Or thought more grace to gain, 460<br> +If, in her cause, they wrestled down<br> +Feelings their nature strove to own.<br> +By strange device were they brought there,<br> +They knew not how, and knew not where.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXV.<br> +<br> +And now that blind old Abbot rose, 465<br> + To speak the Chapter’s doom,<br> +On those the wall was to enclose,<br> + Alive, within the tomb;<br> +But stopp’d, because that woful Maid,<br> +Gathering her powers, to speak essay’d. +470<br> +Twice she essay’d, and twice in vain;<br> +Her accents might no utterance gain;<br> +Nought but imperfect murmurs slip<br> +From her convulsed and quivering lip;<br> + Twixt each attempt all was so still, 475<br> + You seem’d to hear a distant rill-<br> + ‘Twas ocean’s swells and falls;<br> + For though this vault of sin and fear<br> + Was to the sounding surge so near,<br> + A tempest there you scarce could hear, 480<br> + So massive were the walls.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVI.<br> +<br> +At length, an effort sent apart<br> +The blood that curdled to her heart,<br> + And light came to her eye,<br> +And colour dawn’d upon her cheek, +485<br> +A hectic and a flutter’d streak,<br> +Like that left on the Cheviot peak,<br> + By Autumn’s stormy sky;<br> +And when her silence broke at length,<br> +Still as she spoke she gather’d strength, +490<br> + And arm’d herself to bear.<br> +It was a fearful sight to see<br> +Such high resolve and constancy,<br> + In form so soft and fair.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVII.<br> +<br> +‘I speak not to implore your grace, +495<br> +Well know I, for one minute’s space<br> + Successless might I sue:<br> +Nor do I speak your prayers to gain;<br> +For if a death of lingering pain,<br> +To cleanse my sins, be penance vain, 500<br> + Vain are your masses too.-<br> +I listen’d to a traitor’s tale,<br> +I left the convent and the veil;<br> +For three long years I bow’d my pride,<br> +A horse-boy in his train to ride; +505<br> +And well my folly’s meed he gave,<br> +Who forfeited, to be his slave,<br> +All here, and all beyond the grave.-<br> +He saw young Clara’s face more fair,<br> +He knew her of broad lands the heir, 510<br> +Forgot his vows, his faith forswore,<br> +And Constance was beloved no more.-<br> + ‘Tis an old tale, and often told;<br> + But did my fate and wish agree,<br> + Ne’er had been read, in story old, +515<br> + Of maiden true betray’d for gold,<br> + That loved, or was avenged, like me!<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVIII.<br> +<br> +‘The King approved his favourite’s aim;<br> +In vain a rival barr’d his claim,<br> + Whose fate with Clare’s was plight, +520<br> +For he attaints that rival’s fame<br> +With treason’s charge-and on they came,<br> + In mortal lists to fight.<br> + Their oaths are said,<br> + Their prayers are pray’d, +525<br> + Their lances in the rest are laid,<br> + They meet in mortal shock;<br> +And hark! the throng, with thundering cry,<br> +Shout “Marmion, Marmion I to the sky,<br> + De Wilton to the block!” +530<br> +Say ye, who preach Heaven shall decide<br> +When in the lists two champions ride,<br> + Say, was Heaven’s justice here?<br> +When, loyal in his love and faith,<br> +Wilton found overthrow or death, 535<br> + Beneath a traitor’s spear?<br> +How false the charge, how true he fell,<br> +This guilty packet best can tell.’-<br> +Then drew a packet from her breast,<br> +Paused, gather’d voice, and spoke the rest. +540<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIX.<br> +<br> +‘Still was false Marmion’s bridal staid;<br> +To Whitby’s convent fled the maid,<br> + The hated match to shun.<br> +“Ho! shifts she thus?” King Henry cried,<br> +“Sir Marmion, she shall be thy bride, +545<br> + If she were sworn a nun.”<br> +One way remain’d-the King’s command<br> +Sent Marmion to the Scottish land!<br> +I linger’d here, and rescue plann’d<br> + For Clara and for me: +550<br> +This caitiff Monk, for gold, did swear,<br> +He would to Whitby’s shrine repair,<br> +And, by his drugs, my rival fair<br> + A saint in heaven should be.<br> +But ill the dastard kept his oath, 555<br> +Whose cowardice has undone us both.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXX.<br> +<br> +‘And now my tongue the secret tells,<br> +Not that remorse my bosom swells,<br> +But to assure my soul that none<br> +Shall ever wed with Marmion. 560<br> +Had fortune my last hope betray’d,<br> +This packet, to the King convey’d,<br> +Had given him to the headsman’s stroke,<br> +Although my heart that instant broke.-<br> +Now, men of death, work forth your will, 565<br> +For I can suffer, and be still;<br> +And come he slow, or come he fast,<br> +It is but Death who comes at last.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXI.<br> +<br> +‘Yet dread me, from my living tomb,<br> +Ye vassal slaves of bloody Rome! 570<br> +If Marmion’s late remorse should wake,<br> +Full soon such vengeance will he take,<br> +That you shall wish the fiery Dane<br> +Had rather been your guest again.<br> +Behind, a darker hour ascends! 575<br> +The altars quake, the crosier bends,<br> +The ire of a despotic King<br> +Rides forth upon destruction’s wing;<br> +Then shall these vaults, so strong and deep,<br> +Burst open to the sea-winds’ sweep; +580<br> +Some traveller then shall find my bones<br> +Whitening amid disjointed stones,<br> +And, ignorant of priests’ cruelty,<br> +Marvel such relics here should be.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXII.<br> +<br> +Fix’d was her look, and stern her air: +585<br> +Back from her shoulders stream’d her hair;<br> +The locks, that wont her brow to shade,<br> +Stared up erectly from her head;<br> +Her figure seem’d to rise more high;<br> +Her voice, despair’s wild energy +590<br> +Had given a tone of prophecy.<br> +Appall’d the astonish’d conclave sate;<br> +With stupid eyes, the men of fate<br> +Gazed on the light inspired form,<br> +And listen’d for the avenging storm; +595<br> +The judges felt the victim’s dread;<br> +No hand was moved, no word was said,<br> +Till thus the Abbot’s doom was given,<br> +Raising his sightless balls to heaven:-<br> +‘Sister, let thy sorrows cease; +600<br> +Sinful brother, part in peace!’<br> + From that dire dungeon, place of doom,<br> + Of execution too, and tomb,<br> + Paced forth the judges three;<br> + Sorrow it were, and shame, to tell 605<br> + The butcher-work that there befell,<br> + When they had glided from the cell<br> + Of sin and misery.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXIII.<br> +<br> +An hundred winding steps convey<br> +That conclave to the upper day; +610<br> +But, ere they breathed the fresher air,<br> +They heard the shriekings of despair,<br> + And many a stifled groan:<br> +With speed their upward way they take,<br> +(Such speed as age and fear can make,) 615<br> +And cross’d themselves for terror’s sake,<br> + As hurrying, tottering on,<br> +Even in the vesper’s heavenly tone,<br> +They seem’d to hear a dying groan,<br> +And bade the passing knell to toll 620<br> +For welfare of a parting soul.<br> +Slow o’er the midnight wave it swung,<br> +Northumbrian rocks in answer rung;<br> +To Warkworth cell the echoes roll’d,<br> +His beads the wakeful hermit told, 625<br> +The Bamborough peasant raised his head,<br> +But slept ere half a prayer he said;<br> +So far was heard the mighty knell,<br> +The stag sprung up on Cheviot Fell,<br> +Spread his broad nostril to the wind, +630<br> +Listed before, aside, behind,<br> +Then couch’d him down beside the hind,<br> +And quaked among the mountain fern,<br> +To hear that sound, so dull and stern.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD</b>.<br> +<br> +<i>TO WILLIAM ERSKINE, ESQ.<br> +<br> +Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest.<br> +<br> +</i>Like April morning clouds, that pass,<br> +With varying shadow, o’er the grass,<br> +And imitate, on field and furrow,<br> +Life’s chequer’d scene of joy and sorrow;<br> +Like streamlet of the mountain north, +5<br> +Now in a torrent racing forth,<br> +Now winding slow its silver train,<br> +And almost slumbering on the plain;<br> +Like breezes of the autumn day,<br> +Whose voice inconstant dies away, 10<br> +And ever swells again as fast,<br> +When the ear deems its murmur past;<br> +Thus various, my romantic theme<br> +Flits, winds, or sinks, a morning dream.<br> +Yet pleased, our eye pursues the trace +15<br> +Of Light and Shade’s inconstant race;<br> +Pleased, views the rivulet afar,<br> +Weaving its maze irregular;<br> +And pleased, we listen as the breeze<br> +Heaves its wild sigh through Autumn trees; +20<br> +Then, wild as cloud, or stream, or gale,<br> +Flow on, flow unconfined, my Tale!<br> +<br> +Need I to thee, dear Erskine, tell<br> +I love the license all too well,<br> +In sounds now lowly, and now strong, +25<br> +To raise the desultory song?<br> +Oft, when ‘mid such capricious chime,<br> +Some transient fit of lofty rhyme<br> +To thy kind judgment seem’d excuse<br> +For many an error of the muse, +30<br> +Oft hast thou said, ‘If, still misspent,<br> +Thine hours to poetry are lent,<br> +Go, and to tame thy wandering course,<br> +Quaff from the fountain at the source;<br> +Approach those masters, o’er whose tomb +35<br> +Immortal laurels ever bloom:<br> +Instructive of the feebler bard,<br> +Still from the grave their voice is heard;<br> +From them, and from the paths they show’d,<br> +Choose honour’d guide and practised road; +40<br> +Nor ramble on through brake and maze,<br> +With harpers rude of barbarous days.<br> +<br> + ‘Or deem’st thou not our later time<br> +Yields topic meet for classic rhyme?<br> +Hast thou no elegiac verse +45<br> +For Brunswick’s venerable hearse?<br> +What! not a line, a tear, a sigh,<br> +When valour bleeds for liberty?-<br> +Oh, hero of that glorious time,<br> +When, with unrivall’d light sublime,- +50<br> +Though martial Austria, and though all<br> +The might of Russia, and the Gaul,<br> +Though banded Europe stood her foes-<br> +The star of Brandenburgh arose!<br> +Thou couldst not live to see her beam 55<br> +For ever quench’d in Jena’s stream.<br> +Lamented Chief!-it was not given<br> +To thee to change the doom of Heaven,<br> +And crush that dragon in its birth,<br> +Predestined scourge of guilty earth. +60<br> +Lamented Chief!-not thine the power,<br> +To save in that presumptuous hour,<br> +When Prussia hurried to the field,<br> +And snatch’d the spear, but left the shield!<br> +Valour and skill ‘twas thine to try, +65<br> +And, tried in vain, ‘twas thine to die.<br> +Ill had it seem’d thy silver hair<br> +The last, the bitterest pang to share,<br> +For princedoms reft, and scutcheons riven,<br> +And birthrights to usurpers given; +70<br> +Thy land’s, thy children’s wrongs to feel,<br> +And witness woes thou could’st not heal!<br> +On thee relenting Heaven bestows<br> +For honour’d life an honour’d close;<br> +And when revolves, in time’s sure change, +75<br> +The hour of Germany’s revenge,<br> +When, breathing fury for her sake,<br> +Some new Arminius shall awake,<br> +Her champion, ere he strike, shall come<br> +To whet his sword on BRUNSWICK’S tomb, +80<br> +<br> + ‘Or of the Red-Cross hero teach<br> +Dauntless in dungeon as on breach:<br> +Alike to him the sea, the shore,<br> +The brand, the bridle, or the oar:<br> +Alike to him the war that calls 85<br> +Its votaries to the shatter’d walls,<br> +Which the grim Turk, besmear’d with blood,<br> +Against the Invincible made good;<br> +Or that, whose thundering voice could wake<br> +The silence of the polar lake, +90<br> +When stubborn Russ, and metal’d Swede,<br> +On the warp’d wave their death-game play’d;<br> +Or that, where Vengeance and Affright<br> +Howl’d round the father of the fight,<br> +Who snatch’d, on Alexandria’s sand, + 95<br> +The conqueror’s wreath with dying hand.<br> +<br> + ‘Or, if to touch such chord be thine,<br> +Restore the ancient tragic line,<br> +And emulate the notes that rung<br> +From the wild harp, which silent hung +100<br> +By silver Avon’s holy shore,<br> +Till twice an hundred years roll’d o’er;<br> +When she, the bold Enchantress, came,<br> +With fearless hand and heart on flame!<br> +From the pale willow snatch’d the treasure, +105<br> +And swept it with a kindred measure,<br> +Till Avon’s swans, while rung the grove<br> +With Montfort’s hate and Basil’s love,<br> +Awakening at the inspired strain,<br> +Deem’d their own Shakspeare lived again.’ + 110<br> +<br> + Thy friendship thus thy judgment wronging,<br> +With praises not to me belonging,<br> +In task more meet for mightiest powers,<br> +Wouldst thou engage my thriftless hours.<br> +But say, my Erskine, hast thou weigh’d +115<br> +That secret power by all obey’d,<br> +Which warps not less the passive mind,<br> +Its source conceal’d or undefined;<br> +Whether an impulse, that has birth<br> +Soon as the infant wakes on earth, 120<br> +One with our feelings and our powers,<br> +And rather part of us than ours;<br> +Or whether fitlier term’d the sway<br> +Of habit, form’d in early day?<br> +Howe’er derived, its force confest +125<br> +Rules with despotic sway the breast,<br> +And drags us on by viewless chain,<br> +While taste and reason plead in vain.<br> +Look east, and ask the Belgian why,<br> +Beneath Batavia’s sultry sky, +130<br> +He seeks not eager to inhale<br> +The freshness of the mountain gale,<br> +Content to rear his whiten’d wall<br> +Beside the dank and dull canal?<br> +He’ll say, from youth he loved to see +135<br> +The white sail gliding by the tree.<br> +Or see yon weatherbeaten hind,<br> +Whose sluggish herds before him wind,<br> +Whose tatter’d plaid and rugged cheek<br> +His northern clime and kindred speak; +140<br> +Through England’s laughing meads he goes,<br> +And England’s wealth around him flows;<br> +Ask, if it would content him well,<br> +At ease in those gay plains to dwell,<br> +Where hedge-rows spread a verdant screen, +145<br> +And spires and forests intervene,<br> +And the neat cottage peeps between?<br> +No! not for these will he exchange<br> +His dark Lochaber’s boundless range;<br> +Not for fair Devon’s meads forsake +150<br> +Bennevis grey, and Carry’s lake.<br> +<br> + Thus while I ape the measure wild<br> +Of tales that charm’d me yet a child,<br> +Rude though they be, still with the chime<br> +Return the thoughts of early time; 155<br> +And feelings, roused in life’s first day,<br> +Glow in the line, and prompt the lay.<br> +Then rise those crags, that mountain tower<br> +Which charm’d my fancy’s wakening hour.<br> +Though no broad river swept along, 160<br> +To claim, perchance, heroic song;<br> +Though sigh’d no groves in summer gale,<br> +To prompt of love a softer tale;<br> +Though scarce a puny streamlet’s speed<br> +Claim’d homage from a shepherd’s reed; + 165<br> +Yet was poetic impulse given,<br> +By the green hill and clear blue heaven.<br> +It was a barren scene, and wild,<br> +Where naked cliff’s were rudely piled;<br> +But ever and anon between +170<br> +Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green;<br> +And well the lonely infant knew<br> +Recesses where the wall-flower grew,<br> +And honey-suckle loved to crawl<br> +Up the low crag and ruin’d wall. +175<br> +I deem’d such nooks the sweetest shade<br> +The sun in all its round survey’d;<br> +And still I thought that shatter’d tower<br> +The mightiest work of human power;<br> +And marvell’d as the aged hind +180<br> +With some strange tale bewitch’d my mind,<br> +Of forayers, who, with headlong force,<br> +Down from that strength had spurr’d their horse,<br> +Their southern rapine to renew,<br> +Far in the distant Cheviots blue, +185<br> +And, home returning, fill’d the hall<br> +With revel, wassel-rout, and brawl.<br> +Methought that still with trump and clang,<br> +The gateway’s broken arches rang;<br> +Methought grim features, seam’d with scars, +190<br> +Glared through the window’s rusty bars,<br> +And ever, by the winter hearth,<br> +Old tales I heard of woe or mirth,<br> +Of lovers’ slights, of ladies’ charms,<br> +Of witches’ spells, of warriors’ arms; + 195<br> +Of patriot battles, won of old<br> +By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold;<br> +Of later fields of feud and fight,<br> +When, pouring from their Highland height,<br> +The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, +200<br> +Had swept the scarlet ranks away.<br> +While stretch’d at length upon the floor,<br> +Again I fought each combat o’er,<br> +Pebbles and shells, in order laid,<br> +The mimic ranks of war display’d; +205<br> +And onward still the Scottish Lion bore,<br> +And still the scattered Southron fled before.<br> +<br> + Still, with vain fondness, could I trace,<br> +Anew, each kind familiar face,<br> +That brighten’d at our evening fire! +210<br> +From the thatch’d mansion’s grey-hair’d +Sire,<br> +Wise without learning, plain and good,<br> +And sprung of Scotland’s gentler blood;<br> +Whose eye, in age, quick, clear, and keen,<br> +Show’d what in youth its glance had been; +215<br> +Whose doom discording neighbours sought,<br> +Content with equity unbought;<br> +To him the venerable Priest,<br> +Our frequent and familiar guest,<br> +Whose life and manners well could paint +220<br> +Alike the student and the saint;<br> +Alas! whose speech too oft I broke<br> +With gambol rude and timeless joke:<br> +For I was wayward, bold, and wild,<br> +A self-will’d imp, a grandame’s child; + 225<br> +But half a plague, and half a jest,<br> +Was still endured, beloved, caress’d.<br> +<br> + From me, thus nurtured, dost thou ask<br> +The classic poet’s well-conn’d task?<br> +Nay, Erskine, nay-On the wild hill 230<br> +Let the wild heath-bell flourish still;<br> +Cherish the tulip, prune the vine,<br> +But freely let the woodbine twine,<br> +And leave untrimm’d the eglantine:<br> +Nay, my friend, nay-Since oft thy praise 235<br> +Hath given fresh vigour to my lays;<br> +Since oft thy judgment could refine<br> +My flatten’d thought, or cumbrous line;<br> +Still kind, as is thy wont, attend,<br> +And in the minstrel spare the friend. +240<br> +Though wild as cloud, as stream, as gale,<br> +Flow forth, flow unrestrain’d, my Tale!<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO THIRD</b>.<br> +<br> +THE HOSTEL, OR INN.<br> +<br> +<br> +I.<br> +<br> +The livelong day Lord Marmion rode:<br> +The mountain path the Palmer show’d<br> +By glen and streamlet winded still,<br> +Where stunted birches hid the rill.<br> +They might not choose the lowland road, +5<br> +For the Merse forayers were abroad,<br> +Who, fired with hate and thirst of prey,<br> +Had scarcely fail’d to bar their way.<br> +Oft on the trampling band, from crown<br> +Of some tall cliff, the deer look’d down; +10<br> +On wing of jet, from his repose<br> +In the deep heath, the black-cock rose;<br> +Sprung from the gorse the timid roe,<br> +Nor waited for the bending bow;<br> +And when the stony path began, +15<br> +By which the naked peak they wan,<br> +Up flew the snowy ptarmigan.<br> +The noon had long been pass’d before<br> +They gain’d the height of Lammermoor;<br> +Thence winding down the northern way, 20<br> +Before them, at the close of day,<br> +Old Gifford’s towers and hamlet lay.<br> +<br> +<br> +II.<br> +<br> +No summons calls them to the tower,<br> +To spend the hospitable hour.<br> +To Scotland’s camp the Lord was gone; +25<br> +His cautious dame, in bower alone,<br> +Dreaded her castle to unclose,<br> +So late, to unknown friends or foes.<br> + On through the hamlet as they paced,<br> + Before a porch, whose front was graced +30<br> + With bush and flagon trimly placed,<br> + Lord Marmion drew his rein:<br> + The village inn seem’d large, though rude;<br> + Its cheerful fire and hearty food<br> + Might well relieve his train. 35<br> +Down from their seats the horsemen sprung,<br> +With jingling spurs the court-yard rung;<br> +They bind their horses to the stall,<br> +For forage, food, and firing call,<br> +And various clamour fills the hall: 40<br> +Weighing the labour with the cost,<br> +Toils everywhere the bustling host.<br> +<br> +<br> +III<br> +<br> +Soon, by the chimney’s merry blaze,<br> +Through the rude hostel might you gaze;<br> +Might see, where, in dark nook aloof, 45<br> +The rafters of the sooty roof<br> + Bore wealth of winter cheer;<br> +Of sea-fowl dried, and solands store,<br> +And gammons of the tusky boar,<br> + And savoury haunch of deer. 50<br> +The chimney arch projected wide;<br> +Above, around it, and beside,<br> + Were tools for housewives’ hand;<br> +Nor wanted, in that martial day,<br> +The implements of Scottish fray, +55<br> + The buckler, lance, and brand.<br> +Beneath its shade, the place of state,<br> +On oaken settle Marmion sate,<br> +And view’d around the blazing hearth.<br> +His followers mix in noisy mirth; 60<br> +Whom with brown ale, in jolly tide,<br> +From ancient vessels ranged aside,<br> +Full actively their host supplied.<br> +<br> +<br> +IV.<br> +<br> +Theirs was the glee of martial breast,<br> +And laughter theirs at little jest; 65<br> +And oft Lord Marmion deign’d to aid,<br> +And mingle in the mirth they made;<br> +For though, with men of high degree,<br> +The proudest of the proud was he,<br> +Yet, train’d in camps, he knew the art +70<br> +To win the soldier’s hardy heart.<br> +They love a captain to obey,<br> +Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May;<br> +With open hand, and brow as free,<br> +Lover of wine and minstrelsy; 75<br> +Ever the first to scale a tower,<br> +As venturous in a lady’s bower:-<br> +Such buxom chief shall lead his host<br> +From India’s fires to Zembla’s frost.<br> +<br> +<br> +V.<br> +<br> +Resting upon his pilgrim staff, 80<br> + Right opposite the Palmer stood;<br> +His thin dark visage seen but half,<br> + Half hidden by his hood.<br> +Still fix’d on Marmion was his look,<br> +Which he, who ill such gaze could brook, +85<br> + Strove by a frown to quell;<br> +But not for that, though more than once<br> +Full met their stern encountering glance,<br> +The Palmer’s visage fell.<br> +<br> +<br> +VI.<br> +<br> +By fits less frequent from the crowd +90<br> +Was heard the burst of laughter loud;<br> +For still, as squire and archer stared<br> +On that dark face and matted beard,<br> + Their glee and game declined.<br> +All gazed at length in silence drear, 95<br> +Unbroke, save when in comrade’s ear<br> +Some yeoman, wondering in his fear,<br> + Thus whispered forth his mind:-<br> +‘Saint Mary! saw’st thou e’er such sight?<br> +How pale his cheek, his eye how bright, +100<br> +Whene’er the firebrand’s fickle light<br> + Glances beneath his cowl!<br> +Full on our Lord he sets his eye;<br> +For his best palfrey, would not I<br> + Endure that sullen scowl.’ +105<br> +<br> +<br> +VII.<br> +<br> +But Marmion, as to chase the awe<br> +Which thus had quell’d their hearts, who saw<br> +The ever-varying fire-light show<br> +That figure stern and face of woe,<br> + Now call’d upon a squire:- +110<br> +‘Fitz-Eustace, know’st thou not some lay,<br> +To speed the lingering night away?<br> + We slumber by the fire.’-<br> +<br> +<br> +VIII.<br> +<br> +‘So please you,’ thus the youth rejoin’d,<br> +‘Our choicest minstrel’s left behind. + 115<br> +Ill may we hope to please your ear,<br> +Accustom’d Constant’s strains to hear.<br> +The harp full deftly can he strike,<br> +And wake the lover’s lute alike;<br> +To dear Saint Valentine, no thrush 120<br> +Sings livelier from a spring-tide bush,<br> +No nightingale her love-lorn tune<br> +More sweetly warbles to the moon.<br> +Woe to the cause, whate’er it be,<br> +Detains from us his melody, +125<br> +Lavish’d on rocks, and billows stern,<br> +Or duller monks of Lindisfarne.<br> +Now must I venture as I may,<br> +To sing his favourite roundelay.’<br> +<br> +<br> +IX.<br> +<br> +A mellow voice Fitz-Eustace had, 130<br> +The air he chose was wild and sad;<br> +Such have I heard, in Scottish land,<br> +Rise from the busy harvest band,<br> +When falls before the mountaineer,<br> +On Lowland plains, the ripen’d ear. +135<br> +Now one shrill voice the notes prolong,<br> +Now a wild chorus swells the song:<br> +Oft have I listen’d, and stood still,<br> +As it came soften’d up the hill,<br> +And deem’d it the lament of men +140<br> +Who languish’d for their native glen;<br> +And thought how sad would be such sound,<br> +On Susquehanna’s swampy ground,<br> +Kentucky’s wood-encumber’d brake,<br> +Or wild Ontario’s boundless lake, +145<br> +Where heart-sick exiles, in the strain,<br> +Recall’d fair Scotland’s hills again!<br> +<br> +<br> +X.<br> +<br> +Song<br> +<br> +Where shall the lover rest,<br> + Whom the fates sever<br> +From his true maiden’s breast, +150<br> + Parted for ever?<br> +Where, through groves deep and high,<br> + Sounds the far billow,<br> +Where early violets die,<br> + Under the willow. +155<br> +<br> +CHORUS.<br> +<i>Eleu loro</i>, &c. Soft shall be his pillow.<br> +<br> +There, through the summer day,<br> + Cool streams are laving;<br> +There, while the tempests sway,<br> + Scarce are boughs waving; +160<br> +There, thy rest shalt thou take,<br> + Parted for ever,<br> +Never again to wake,<br> + Never, O never!<br> +<br> +CHORUS.<br> +<i>Eleu loro</i>, &c. Never, O never! + 165<br> +<br> +<br> +XI.<br> +<br> +Where shall the traitor rest,<br> + He, the deceiver,<br> +Who could win maiden’s breast,<br> + Ruin, and leave her?<br> +In the lost battle, +170<br> + Borne down by the flying,<br> +Where mingles war’s rattle<br> + With groans of the dying.<br> +<br> +CHORUS.<br> +<i>Eleu loro</i>, &c. There shall he be lying.<br> +<br> +Her wing shall the eagle flap +175<br> + O’er the false-hearted;<br> +His warm blood the wolf shall lap,<br> + Ere life be parted.<br> +Shame and dishonour sit<br> + By his grave ever; 180<br> +Blessing shall hallow it,-<br> +Never, O never.<br> +<br> +CHORUS.<br> +<i>Eleu loro</i>, &c. Never, O never!<br> +<br> +<br> +XII.<br> +<br> +It ceased, the melancholy sound;<br> +And silence sunk on all around. +185<br> +The air was sad; but sadder still<br> + It fell on Marmion’s ear,<br> +And plain’d as if disgrace and ill,<br> + And shameful death, were near.<br> +He drew his mantle past his face, +190<br> + Between it and the band,<br> +And rested with his head a space,<br> +Reclining on his hand.<br> +His thoughts I scan not; but I ween,<br> +That, could their import have been seen, 195<br> +The meanest groom in all the hall,<br> +That e’er tied courser to a stall,<br> +Would scarce have wished to be their prey,<br> +For Lutterward and Fontenaye.<br> +<br> +<br> +XIII.<br> +<br> +High minds, of native pride and force, 200<br> +Most deeply feel thy pangs, Remorse!<br> +Fear, for their scourge, mean villains have,<br> +Thou art the torturer of the brave!<br> +Yet fatal strength they boast to steel<br> +Their minds to bear the wounds they feel, +205<br> +Even while they writhe beneath the smart<br> +Of civil conflict in the heart.<br> +For soon Lord Marmion raised his head,<br> +And, smiling, to Fitz-Eustace said,<br> +‘Is it not strange, that, as ye sung, +210<br> +Seem’d in mine ear a death-peal rung,<br> +Such as in nunneries they toll<br> +For some departing sister’s soul?<br> + Say, what may this portend?’-<br> +Then first the Palmer silence broke, 215<br> +(The livelong day he had not spoke)<br> + ‘The death of a dear friend.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XIV.<br> +<br> +Marmion, whose steady heart and eye<br> +Ne’er changed in worst extremity;<br> +Marmion, whose soul could scantly brook, 220<br> +Even from his King, a haughty look;<br> +Whose accents of command controll’d,<br> +In camps, the boldest of the bold-<br> +Thought, look, and utterance fail’d him now,<br> +Fall’n was his glance, and flush’d his brow: + 225<br> + For either in the tone,<br> +Or something in the Palmer’s look,<br> +So full upon his conscience strook,<br> + That answer he found none.<br> +Thus oft it haps, that when within 230<br> +They shrink at sense of secret sin,<br> + A feather daunts the brave;<br> +A fool’s wild speech confounds the wise,<br> +And proudest princes vail their eyes<br> + Before their meanest slave. +235<br> +<br> +<br> +XV.<br> +<br> +Well might he falter!-By his aid<br> +Was Constance Beverley betray’d.<br> +Not that he augur’d of the doom,<br> +Which on the living closed the tomb:<br> +But, tired to hear the desperate maid +240<br> +Threaten by turns, beseech, upbraid;<br> +And wroth, because, in wild despair,<br> +She practised on the life of Clare;<br> +Its fugitive the Church he gave,<br> +Though not a victim, but a slave; +245<br> +And deem’d restraint in convent strange<br> +Would hide her wrongs, and her revenge,<br> +Himself, proud Henry’s favourite peer,<br> +Held Romish thunders idle fear,<br> +Secure his pardon he might hold, 250<br> +For some slight mulct of penance-gold.<br> +Thus judging, he gave secret way,<br> +When the stern priests surprised their prey.<br> +His train but deem’d the favourite page<br> +Was left behind, to spare his age; 255<br> +Or other if they deem’d, none dared<br> +To mutter what he thought and heard:<br> +Woe to the vassal, who durst pry<br> +Into Lord Marmion’s privacy!<br> +<br> +<br> +XVI.<br> +<br> +His conscience slept-he deem’d her well, +260<br> +And safe secured in yonder cell;<br> +But, waken’d by her favourite lay,<br> +And that strange Palmer’s boding say,<br> +That fell so ominous and drear,<br> +Full on the object of his fear, +265<br> +To aid remorse’s venom’d throes,<br> +Dark tales of convent-vengeance rose;<br> +And Constance, late betray’d and scorn’d,<br> +All lovely on his soul return’d;<br> +Lovely as when, at treacherous call, 270<br> +She left her convent’s peaceful wall,<br> +Crimson’d with shame, with terror mute,<br> +Dreading alike escape, pursuit,<br> +Till love, victorious o’er alarms,<br> +Hid fears and blushes in his arms. 275<br> +<br> +‘Alas!’ he thought, ‘how changed that mien!<br> +How changed these timid looks have been,<br> +Since years of guilt, and of disguise,<br> +Have steel’d her brow, and arm’d her eyes!<br> +No more of virgin terror speaks +280<br> +The blood that mantles in her cheeks;<br> +Fierce, and unfeminine, are there,<br> +Frenzy for joy, for grief despair;<br> +And I the cause-for whom were given<br> +Her peace on earth, her hopes in heaven!- 285<br> +Would,’ thought he, as the picture grows,<br> +‘I on its stalk had left the rose!<br> +Oh, why should man’s success remove<br> +The very charms that wake his love!-<br> +Her convent’s peaceful solitude +290<br> +Is now a prison harsh and rude;<br> +And, pent within the narrow cell,<br> +How will her spirit chafe and swell!<br> +How brook the stern monastic laws!<br> +The penance how-and I the cause!- 295<br> +Vigil, and scourge-perchance even worse!’-<br> +And twice he rose to cry, ‘To horse!’<br> +And twice his Sovereign’s mandate came,<br> +Like damp upon a kindling flame;<br> +And twice he thought, ‘Gave I not charge +300<br> +She should be safe, though not at large?<br> +They durst not, for their island, shred<br> +One golden ringlet from her head.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XVIII.<br> +<br> +While thus in Marmion’s bosom strove<br> +Repentance and reviving love, +305<br> +Like whirlwinds, whose contending sway<br> +I’ve seen Loch Vennachar obey,<br> +Their Host the Palmer’s speech had heard,<br> +And, talkative, took up the word:<br> + ‘Ay, reverend Pilgrim, you, who stray +310<br> +From Scotland’s simple land away,<br> + To visit realms afar,<br> +Full often learn the art to know<br> +Of future weal, or future woe,<br> + By word, or sign, or star; 315<br> +Yet might a knight his fortune hear,<br> +If, knight-like, he despises fear,<br> +Not far from hence;-if fathers old<br> +Aright our hamlet legend told.’-<br> +These broken words the menials move,<br> +(For marvels still the vulgar love,) 320<br> +And, Marmion giving license cold,<br> +His tale the host thus gladly told:-<br> +<br> +<br> +XIX.<br> +<br> +The Host’s Tale<br> +<br> +‘A Clerk could tell what years have flown<br> +Since Alexander fill’d our throne, +325<br> +(Third monarch of that warlike name,)<br> +And eke the time when here he came<br> +To seek Sir Hugo, then our lord:<br> +A braver never drew a sword;<br> +A wiser never, at the hour 330<br> +Of midnight, spoke the word of power:<br> +The same, whom ancient records call<br> +The founder of the Goblin-Hall.<br> +I would, Sir Knight, your longer stay<br> +Gave you that cavern to survey. +335<br> +Of lofty roof, and ample size,<br> +Beneath the castle deep it lies:<br> +To hew the living rock profound,<br> +The floor to pave, the arch to round,<br> +There never toil’d a mortal arm, +340<br> +It all was wrought by word and charm;<br> +And I have heard my grandsire say,<br> +That the wild clamour and affray<br> +Of those dread artisans of hell,<br> +Who labour’d under Hugo’s spell, + 345<br> +Sounded as loud as ocean’s war,<br> +Among the caverns of Dunbar.<br> +<br> +<br> +XX.<br> +<br> +‘The King Lord Gifford’s castle sought,<br> +Deep labouring with uncertain thought;<br> +Even then he mustered all his host, +350<br> +To meet upon the western coast;<br> +For Norse and Danish galleys plied<br> +Their oars within the Frith of Clyde.<br> +There floated Haco’s banner trim,<br> +Above Norweyan warriors grim, +355<br> +Savage of heart, and large of limb;<br> +Threatening both continent and isle,<br> +Bute, Arran, Cunninghame, and Kyle.<br> +Lord Gifford, deep beneath the ground,<br> +Heard Alexander’s bugle sound, +360<br> +And tarried not his garb to change,<br> +But, in his wizard habit strange,<br> +Came forth,-a quaint and fearful sight;<br> +His mantle lined with fox-skins white;<br> +His high and wrinkled forehead bore +365<br> +A pointed cap, such as of yore<br> +Clerks say that Pharaoh’s Magi wore:<br> +His shoes were mark’d with cross and spell,<br> +Upon his breast a pentacle;<br> +His zone, of virgin parchment thin, +370<br> +Or, as some tell, of dead man’s skin,<br> +Bore many a planetary sign,<br> +Combust, and retrograde, and trine;<br> +And in his hand he held prepared,<br> +A naked sword without a guard. 375<br> +<br> +<br> +XXI.<br> +<br> +‘Dire dealings with the fiendish race<br> +Had mark’d strange lines upon his face;<br> +Vigil and fast had worn him grim,<br> +His eyesight dazzled seem’d and dim,<br> +As one unused to upper day; +380<br> +Even his own menials with dismay<br> +Beheld, Sir Knight, the grisly Sire,<br> +In his unwonted wild attire;<br> +Unwonted, for traditions run,<br> +He seldom thus beheld the sun.- 385<br> +“I know,” he said,-his voice was hoarse,<br> +And broken seem’d its hollow force,-<br> +“I know the cause, although untold,<br> +Why the King seeks his vassal’s hold:<br> +Vainly from me my liege would know 390<br> +His kingdom’s future weal or woe;<br> +But yet, if strong his arm and heart,<br> +His courage may do more than art.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXII.<br> +<br> +‘“Of middle air the demons proud,<br> +Who ride upon the racking cloud, 395<br> +Can read, in fix’d or wandering star,<br> +The issue of events afar;<br> +But still their sullen aid withhold,<br> +Save when by mightier force controll’d.<br> +Such late I summon’d to my hall; +400<br> +And though so potent was the call,<br> +That scarce the deepest nook of hell<br> +I deem’d a refuge from the spell,<br> +Yet, obstinate in silence still,<br> +The haughty demon mocks my skill. +405<br> +But thou,-who little know’st thy might,<br> +As born upon that blessed night<br> +When yawning graves, and dying groan,<br> +Proclaim’d hell’s empire overthrown,-<br> +With untaught valour shalt compel +410<br> +Response denied to magic spell.”-<br> +“Gramercy,” quoth our Monarch free,<br> +“Place him but front to front with me,<br> +And, by this good and honour’d brand,<br> +The gift of Coeur-de-Lion’s hand, +415<br> +Soothly I swear, that, tide what tide,<br> +The demon shall a buffet bide.”-<br> +His bearing bold the wizard view’d,<br> +And thus, well pleased, his speech renew’d:-<br> +“There spoke the blood of Malcolm!-mark: +420<br> +Forth pacing hence, at midnight dark,<br> +The rampart seek, whose circling crown<br> +Crests the ascent of yonder down:<br> +A southern entrance shalt thou find;<br> +There halt, and there thy bugle wind, +425<br> +And trust thine elfin foe to see,<br> +In guise of thy worst enemy:<br> +Couch then thy lance, and spur thy steed-<br> +Upon him! and Saint George to speed!<br> +If he go down, thou soon shalt know +430<br> +Whate’er these airy sprites can show:-<br> +If thy heart fail thee in the strife,<br> +I am no warrant for thy life.”<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIII.<br> +<br> +‘Soon as the midnight bell did ring,<br> +Alone, and arm’d, forth rode the King +435<br> +To that old camp’s deserted round:<br> +Sir Knight, you well might mark the mound,<br> +Left hand the town,-the Pictish race,<br> +The trench, long since, in blood did trace;<br> +The moor around is brown and bare, 440<br> +The space within is green and fair.<br> +The spot our village children know,<br> +For there the earliest wild-flowers grow;<br> +But woe betide the wandering wight,<br> +That treads its circle in the night! 445<br> +The breadth across, a bowshot clear,<br> +Gives ample space for full career;<br> +Opposed to the four points of heaven,<br> +By four deep gaps are entrance given.<br> +The southernmost our Monarch past, 450<br> +Halted, and blew a gallant blast;<br> +And on the north, within the ring,<br> +Appeared the form of England’s King,<br> +Who then a thousand leagues afar,<br> +In Palestine waged holy war: 455<br> +Yet arms like England’s did he wield,<br> +Alike the leopards in the shield,<br> +Alike his Syrian courser’s frame,<br> +The rider’s length of limb the same:<br> +Long afterwards did Scotland know, 460<br> +Fell Edward was her deadliest foe.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIV.<br> +<br> +‘The vision made our Monarch start,<br> +But soon he mann’d his noble heart,<br> +And in the first career they ran,<br> +The Elfin Knight fell, horse and man; +465<br> +Yet did a splinter of his lance<br> +Through Alexander’s visor glance,<br> +And razed the skin-a puny wound.<br> +The King, light leaping to the ground,<br> +With naked blade his phantom foe 470<br> +Compell’d the future war to show.<br> +Of Largs he saw the glorious plain,<br> +Where still gigantic bones remain,<br> + Memorial of the Danish war;<br> +Himself he saw, amid the field, +475<br> +On high his brandish’d war-axe wield,<br> + And strike proud Haco from his car,<br> +While all around the shadowy Kings<br> +Denmark’s grim ravens cower’d their wings.<br> +‘Tis said, that, in that awful night, +480<br> +Remoter visions met his sight,<br> +Foreshowing future conquest far,<br> +When our sons’ sons wage northern war;<br> +A royal city, tower and spire,<br> +Redden’d the midnight sky with fire, +485<br> +And shouting crews her navy bore,<br> +Triumphant, to the victor shore.<br> +Such signs may learned clerks explain,<br> +They pass the wit of simple swain.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXV.<br> +<br> +‘The joyful King turn’d home again, + 490<br> +Headed his host, and quell’d the Dane;<br> +But yearly, when return’d the night<br> +Of his strange combat with the sprite,<br> + His wound must bleed and smart;<br> +Lord Gifford then would gibing say, +495<br> +“Bold as ye were, my liege, ye pay<br> + The penance of your start.”<br> +Long since, beneath Dunfermline’s nave,<br> +King Alexander fills his grave,<br> + Our Lady give him rest! +500<br> +Yet still the knightly spear and shield<br> +The Elfin Warrior doth wield,<br> + Upon the brown hill’s breast;<br> +And many a knight hath proved his chance,<br> +In the charm’d ring to break a lance, +505<br> + But all have foully sped;<br> +Save two, as legends tell, and they<br> +Were Wallace wight, and Gilbert Hay.-<br> +Gentles, my tale is said.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVI.<br> +<br> +The quaighs were deep, the liquor strong, +510<br> +And on the tale the yeoman-throng<br> +Had made a comment sage and long,<br> + But Marmion gave a sign:<br> +And, with their lord, the squires retire;<br> +The rest around the hostel fire, 515<br> + Their drowsy limbs recline:<br> +For pillow, underneath each head,<br> +The quiver and the targe were laid.<br> +Deep slumbering on the hostel floor,<br> +Oppress’d with toil and ale, they snore: +520<br> +The dying flame, in fitful change,<br> +Threw on the group its shadows strange.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVII.<br> +<br> +Apart, and nestling in the hay<br> +Of a waste loft, Fitz-Eustace lay;<br> +Scarce, by the pale moonlight, were seen 525<br> +The foldings of his mantle green:<br> +Lightly he dreamt, as youth will dream,<br> +Of sport by thicket, or by stream,<br> +Of hawk or hound, of ring or glove,<br> +Or, lighter yet, of lady’s love. +530<br> +A cautious tread his slumber broke,<br> +And, close beside him, when he woke,<br> +In moonbeam half, and half in gloom,<br> +Stood a tall form, with nodding plume;<br> +But, ere his dagger Eustace drew, +535<br> +His master Marmion’s voice he knew.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVIII.<br> +<br> +-‘Fitz-Eustace! rise,-I cannot rest;<br> +Yon churl’s wild legend haunts my breast,<br> +And graver thoughts have chafed my mood:<br> +The air must cool my feverish blood; 540<br> +And fain would I ride forth, to see<br> +The scene of elfin chivalry.<br> +Arise, and saddle me my steed;<br> +And, gentle Eustace, take good heed<br> +Thou dost not rouse these drowsy slaves; 545<br> +I would not, that the prating knaves<br> +Had cause for saying, o’er their ale,<br> +That I could credit such a tale.’-<br> +Then softly down the steps they slid,<br> +Eustace the stable door undid, 550<br> +And, darkling, Marmion’s steed array’d,<br> +While, whispering, thus the Baron said:-<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIX.<br> +<br> +‘Did’st never, good my youth, hear tell,<br> + That on the hour when I was born,<br> +Saint George, who graced my sire’s chapelle, +555<br> +Down from his steed of marble fell,<br> + A weary wight forlorn?<br> +The flattering chaplains all agree,<br> +The champion left his steed to me.<br> +I would, the omen’s truth to show, +560<br> +That I could meet this Elfin Foe!<br> +Blithe would I battle, for the right<br> +To ask one question at the sprite:<br> +Vain thought! for elves, if elves there be,<br> +An empty race, by fount or sea, +565<br> +To dashing waters dance and sing,<br> +Or round the green oak wheel their ring.’<br> +Thus speaking, he his steed bestrode,<br> +And from the hostel slowly rode.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXX.<br> +<br> +Fitz-Eustace follow’d him abroad, +570<br> +And mark’d him pace the village road,<br> + And listen’d to his horse’s tramp,<br> + Till, by the lessening sound,<br> + He judged that of the Pictish camp<br> + Lord Marmion sought the round. 575<br> +Wonder it seem’d, in the squire’s eyes,<br> +That one, so wary held, and wise,--<br> +Of whom ‘twas said, he scarce received<br> +For gospel, what the Church believed,-<br> + Should, stirr’d by idle tale, +580<br> +Ride forth in silence of the night,<br> +As hoping half to meet a sprite,<br> + Array’d in plate and mail.<br> +For little did Fitz-Eustace know,<br> +That passions, in contending flow, 585<br> + Unfix the strongest mind;<br> +Wearied from doubt to doubt to flee,<br> +We welcome fond credulity,<br> + Guide confident, though blind.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXI.<br> +<br> +Little for this Fitz-Eustace cared, +590<br> +But, patient, waited till he heard,<br> +At distance, prick’d to utmost speed,<br> +The foot-tramp of a flying steed,<br> + Come town-ward rushing on;<br> +First, dead, as if on turf it trode, 595<br> +Then, clattering on the village road,-<br> +In other pace than forth he yode,<br> + Return’d Lord Marmion.<br> +Down hastily he sprung from selle,<br> +And, in his haste, wellnigh he fell; 600<br> +To the squire’s hand the rein he threw,<br> +And spoke no word as he withdrew:<br> +But yet the moonlight did betray,<br> +The falcon-crest was soil’d with clay;<br> +And plainly might Fitz-Eustace see, +605<br> +By stains upon the charger’s knee,<br> +And his left side, that on the moor<br> +He had not kept his footing sure.<br> +Long musing on these wondrous signs,<br> +At length to rest the squire reclines, 610<br> +Broken and short; for still, between,<br> +Would dreams of terror intervene:<br> +Eustace did ne’er so blithely mark<br> +The first notes of the morning lark.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH</b>.<br> +<br> +<i>TO JAMES SKENE, ESQ.<br> +<br> +Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest</i>.<br> +<br> +An ancient Minstrel sagely said,<br> +‘Where is the life which late we led?’<br> +That motley clown in Arden wood,<br> +Whom humorous Jacques with envy view’d,<br> +Not even that clown could amplify, 5<br> +On this trite text, so long as I.<br> +Eleven years we now may tell,<br> +Since we have known each other well;<br> +Since, riding side by side, our hand<br> +First drew the voluntary brand; 10<br> +And sure, through many a varied scene,,<br> +Unkindness never came between.<br> +Away these winged years have flown,<br> +To join the mass of ages gone;<br> +And though deep mark’d, like all below, +15<br> +With chequer’d shades of joy and woe;<br> +Though thou o’er realms and seas hast ranged,<br> +Mark’d cities lost, and empires changed,<br> +While here, at home, my narrower ken<br> +Somewhat of manners saw, and men; 20<br> +Though varying wishes, hopes, and fears,<br> +Fever’d the progress of these years,<br> +Vet now, days, weeks, and months, but seem<br> +The recollection of a dream,<br> +So still we glide down to the sea 25<br> +Of fathomless eternity.<br> +<br> + Even now it scarcely seems a day,<br> +Since first I tuned this idle lay;<br> +A task so often’ thrown aside,<br> +When leisure graver cares denied, 30<br> +That now, November’s dreary gale,<br> +Whose voice inspired my opening tale,<br> +That same November gale once more<br> +Whirls the dry leaves on Yarrow shore.<br> +Their vex’d boughs streaming to the sky, +35<br> +Once more our naked birches sigh,<br> +And Blackhouse heights, and Ettrick Pen,<br> +Have donn’d their wintry shrouds again:<br> +And mountain dark, and flooded mead,<br> +Bid us forsake the banks of Tweed. +40<br> +Earlier than wont along the sky,<br> +Mix’d with the rack, the snow mists fly;<br> +The shepherd who, in summer sun,<br> +Had something of our envy won,<br> +As thou with pencil, I with pen, +45<br> +The features traced of hill and glen;-<br> +He who, outstretch’d the livelong day,<br> +At ease among the heath-flowers lay,<br> +View’d the light clouds with vacant look,<br> +Or slumber’d o’er his tatter’d book, + 50<br> +Or idly busied him to guide<br> +His angle o’er the lessen’d tide;-<br> +At midnight now, the snowy plain<br> +Finds sterner labour for the swain.<br> +<br> + When red hath set the beamless sun, 55<br> +Through heavy vapours dark and dun;<br> +When the tired ploughman, dry and warm,<br> +Hears, half asleep, the rising storm<br> +Hurling the hail, and sleeted rain,<br> +Against the casement’s tinkling pane; +60<br> +The sounds that drive wild deer, and fox,<br> +To shelter in the brake and rocks,<br> +Are warnings which the shepherd ask<br> +To dismal and to dangerous task.<br> +Oft he looks forth, and hopes, in vain, 65<br> +The blast may sink in mellowing rain;<br> +Till, dark above, and white below,<br> +Decided drives the flaky snow,<br> +And forth the hardy swain must go.<br> +Long, with dejected look and whine, 70<br> +To leave the hearth his dogs repine;<br> +Whistling and cheering them to aid,<br> +Around his back he wreathes the plaid:<br> +His flock he gathers, and he guides,<br> +To open downs, and mountain-sides, +75<br> +Where fiercest though the tempest blow,<br> +Least deeply lies the drift below.<br> +The blast, that whistles o’er the fells,<br> +Stiffens his locks to icicles;<br> +Oft he looks back, while streaming far, 80<br> +His cottage window seems a star,-<br> +Loses its feeble gleam,-and then<br> +Turns patient to the blast again,<br> +And, facing to the tempest’s sweep,<br> +Drives through the gloom his lagging sheep. 85<br> +If fails his heart, if his limbs fail,<br> +Benumbing death is in the gale;<br> +His paths, his landmarks, all unknown,<br> +Close to the hut, no more his own,<br> +Close to the aid he sought in vain, 90<br> +The morn may find the stiffen’d swain:<br> +The widow sees, at dawning pale,<br> +His orphans raise their feeble wail;<br> +And, close beside him, in the snow,<br> +Poor Yarrow, partner of their woe, +95<br> +Couches upon his master’s breast,<br> +And licks his cheek to break his rest.<br> +<br> + Who envies now the shepherd’s lot,<br> +His healthy fare, his rural cot,<br> +His summer couch by greenwood tree, +100<br> +His rustic kirn’s loud revelry,<br> +His native hill-notes, tuned on high,<br> +To Marion of the blithesome eye;<br> +His crook, his scrip, his oaten reed,<br> +And all Arcadia’s golden creed? +105<br> +<br> + Changes not so with us, my Skene,<br> +Of human life the varying scene?<br> +Our youthful summer oft we see<br> +Dance by on wings of game and glee,<br> +While the dark storm reserves its rage, +110<br> +Against the winter of our age:<br> +As he, the ancient Chief of Troy,<br> +His manhood spent in peace and joy;<br> +But Grecian fires, and loud alarms,<br> +Call’d ancient Priam forth to arms. +115<br> +Then happy those, since each must drain<br> +His share of pleasure, share of pain,-<br> +Then happy those, beloved of Heaven,<br> +To whom the mingled cup is given;<br> +Whose lenient sorrows find relief, 120<br> +Whose joys are chasten’d by their grief.<br> +And such a lot, my Skene, was thine,<br> +When thou, of late, wert doom’d to twine,--<br> +Just when thy bridal hour was by,-<br> +The cypress with the myrtle tie. 125<br> +Just on thy bride her Sire had smiled,<br> +And bless’d the union of his child,<br> +When love must change its joyous cheer,<br> +And wipe affection’s filial tear.<br> +Nor did the actions next his end, +130<br> +Speak more the father than the friend:<br> +Scarce had lamented Forbes paid<br> +The tribute to his Minstrel’s shade;<br> +The tale of friendship scarce was told,<br> +Ere the narrator’s heart was cold- +135<br> +Far may we search before we find<br> +A heart so manly and so kind!<br> +But not around his honour’d urn,<br> +Shall friends alone and kindred mourn;<br> +The thousand eyes his care had dried, +140<br> +Pour at his name a bitter tide;<br> +And frequent falls the grateful dew,<br> +For benefits the world ne’er knew.<br> +If mortal charity dare claim<br> +The Almighty’s attributed name, +145<br> +Inscribe above his mouldering clay,<br> +‘The widow’s shield, the orphan’s +stay.’<br> +Nor, though it wake thy sorrow, deem<br> +My verse intrudes on this sad theme;<br> +for sacred was the pen that wrote, 150<br> +‘Thy father’s friend forget thou not:’<br> +And grateful title may I plead,<br> +For many a kindly word and deed,<br> +To bring my tribute to his grave:-<br> +‘Tis little-but ‘tis all I have. + 155<br> +<br> + To thee, perchance, this rambling strain<br> +Recalls our summer walks again;<br> +When, doing nought,-and, to speak true,<br> +Not anxious to find aught to do,-<br> +The wild unbounded hills we ranged, +160<br> +While oft our talk its topic changed,<br> +And, desultory as our way,<br> +Ranged, unconfined, from grave to gay.<br> +Even when it flagged, as oft will chance,<br> +No effort made to break its trance, +165<br> +We could right pleasantly pursue<br> +Our sports in social silence too;<br> +Thou gravely labouring to pourtray<br> +The blighted oak’s fantastic spray;<br> +I spelling o’er, with much delight, +170<br> +The legend of that antique knight,<br> +Tirante by name, yclep’d the White.<br> +At either’s feet a trusty squire,<br> +Pandour and Camp, with eyes of fire,<br> +Jealous, each other’s motions view’d, + 175<br> +And scarce suppress’d their ancient feud.<br> +The laverock whistled from the cloud;<br> +The stream was lively, but not loud;<br> +From the white thorn the May-flower shed<br> +Its dewy fragrance round our head: 180<br> +Not Ariel lived more merrily<br> +Under the blossom’d bough, than we.<br> +<br> + And blithesome nights, too, have been ours,<br> +When Winter stript the summer’s bowers.<br> +Careless we heard, what now I hear, +185<br> +The wild blast sighing deep and drear,<br> +When fires were bright, and lamps beam’d gay,<br> +And ladies tuned the lovely lay;<br> +And he was held a laggard soul,<br> +Who shunn’d to quaff the sparkling bowl. +190<br> +Then he, whose absence we deplore,<br> +Who breathes the gales of Devon’s shore,<br> +The longer miss’d, bewail’d the more;<br> +And thou, and I, and dear-loved R-,<br> +And one whose name I may not say,- 195<br> +For not Mimosa’s tender tree<br> +Shrinks sooner from the touch than he,-<br> +In merry chorus well combined,<br> +With laughter drown’d the whistling wind.<br> +Mirth was within; and care without 200<br> +Might gnaw her nails to hear our shout.<br> +Not but amid the buxom scene<br> +Some grave discourse might intervene-<br> +Of the good horse that bore him best,<br> +His shoulder, hoof, and arching crest: 205<br> +For, like mad Tom’s, our chiefest care,<br> +Was horse to ride, and weapon wear.<br> +Such nights we’ve had; and, though the game<br> +Of manhood be more sober tame,<br> +And though the field-day, or the drill, +210<br> +Seem less important now-yet still<br> +Such may we hope to share again.<br> +The sprightly thought inspires my strain!<br> +And mark, how, like a horseman true,<br> +Lord Marmion’s march I thus renew. +215<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO FOURTH</b>.<br> +<br> +THE CAMP.<br> +<br> +<br> +Eustace, I said, did blithely mark<br> +The first notes of the merry lark.<br> +The lark sang shrill, the cock he crew,<br> +And loudly Marmion’s bugles blew,<br> +And with their light and lively call, +5<br> +Brought groom and yeoman to the stall.<br> + Whistling they came, and free of heart,<br> + But soon their mood was changed;<br> + Complaint was heard on every part,<br> + Of something disarranged. 10<br> +Some clamour’d loud for armour lost;<br> +Some brawl’d and wrangled with the host;<br> +‘By Becket’s bones,’ cried one, ‘I +fear,<br> +That some false Scot has stolen my spear!’-<br> +Young Blount, Lord Marmion’s second squire, +15<br> +Found his steed wet with sweat and mire;<br> +Although the rated horse-boy sware,<br> +Last night he dress’d him sleek and fair.<br> +While chafed the impatient squire like thunder,<br> +Old Hubert shouts, in fear and wonder,- 20<br> +‘Help, gentle Blount! help, comrades all!<br> +Bevis lies dying in his stall:<br> +To Marmion who the plight dare tell,<br> +Of the good steed he loves so well?’-<br> +Gaping for fear and ruth, they saw +25<br> +The charger panting on his straw;<br> +Till one, who would seem wisest, cried,-<br> +‘What else but evil could betide,<br> +With that cursed Palmer for our guide?<br> +Better we had through mire and bush 30<br> +Been lantern-led by Friar Rush.’<br> +<br> +<br> +II.<br> +<br> + Fitz-Eustace, who the cause but guess’d,<br> + Nor wholly understood,<br> + His comrades’ clamorous plaints suppress’d;<br> + He knew Lord Marmion’s mood. +35<br> + Him, ere he issued forth, he sought,<br> + And found deep plunged in gloomy thought,<br> + And did his tale display<br> + Simply, as if he knew of nought<br> + To cause such disarray. 40<br> +Lord Marmion gave attention cold,<br> +Nor marvell’d at the wonders told,-<br> +Pass’d them as accidents of course,<br> +And bade his clarions sound to horse.<br> +<br> +<br> +III.<br> +<br> +Young Henry Blount, meanwhile, the cost 45<br> +Had reckon’d with their Scottish host;<br> +And, as the charge he cast and paid,<br> +‘Ill thou deservest thy hire,’ he said;<br> +‘Dost see, thou knave, my horse’s plight?<br> +Fairies have ridden him all the night, +50<br> + And left him in a foam!<br> +I trust, that soon a conjuring band,<br> +With English cross, and blazing brand,<br> +Shall drive the devils from this land,<br> + To their infernal home: 55<br> +For in this haunted den, I trow,<br> +All night they trampled to and fro.’-<br> +The laughing host look’d on the hire,-<br> +‘Gramercy, gentle southern squire,<br> +And if thou comest among the rest, +60<br> +With Scottish broadsword to be blest,<br> +Sharp be the brand, and sure the blow,<br> +And short the pang to undergo.’<br> +Here stay’d their talk,-for Marmion<br> +Gave now the signal to set on. +65<br> +The Palmer showing forth the way,<br> +They journey’d all the morning day.<br> +<br> +<br> +IV.<br> +<br> +The green-sward way was smooth and good,<br> +Through Humbie’s and through Saltoun’s wood;<br> +A forest-glade, which, varying still, 70<br> +Here gave a view of dale and hill,<br> +There narrower closed, till over head<br> +A vaulted screen the branches made.<br> +‘A pleasant path,’ Fitz-Eustace said;<br> +‘Such as where errant-knights might see +75<br> +Adventures of high chivalry;<br> +Might meet some damsel flying fast,<br> +With hair unbound, and looks aghast;<br> +And smooth and level course were here,<br> +In her defence to break a spear. +80<br> +Here, too, are twilight nooks and dells;<br> +And oft, in such, the story tells,<br> +The damsel kind, from danger freed,<br> +Did grateful pay her champion’s meed.’<br> +He spoke to cheer Lord Marmion’s mind; +85<br> +Perchance to show his lore design’d;<br> + For Eustace much had pored<br> +Upon a huge romantic tome,<br> +In the hall-window of his home,<br> +Imprinted at the antique dome 90<br> + Of Caxton, or de Worde.<br> +Therefore he spoke,-but spoke in vain,<br> +For Marmion answer’d nought again.<br> +<br> +<br> +V.<br> +<br> +Now sudden, distant trumpets shrill,<br> +In notes prolong’d by wood and hill, +95<br> + Were heard to echo far;<br> +Each ready archer grasp’d his bow,<br> +But by the flourish soon they know,<br> + They breathed no point of war.<br> +Yet cautious, as in foeman’s land, +100<br> +Lord Marmion’s order speeds the band,<br> + Some opener ground to gain;<br> +And scarce a furlong had they rode,<br> +When thinner trees, receding, show’d<br> + A little woodland plain. 105<br> +Just in that advantageous glade,<br> +The halting troop a line had made,<br> +As forth from the opposing shade<br> + Issued a gallant train.<br> +<br> +<br> +VI.<br> +<br> +First came the trumpets, at whose clang +110<br> +So late the forest echoes rang;<br> +On prancing steeds they forward press’d,<br> +With scarlet mantle, azure vest;<br> +Each at his trump a banner wore,<br> +Which Scotland’s royal scutcheon bore: +115<br> +Heralds and pursuivants, by name<br> +Bute, Islay, Marchmount, Rothsay, came,<br> +In painted tabards, proudly showing<br> +Gules, Argent, Or, and Azure glowing,<br> + Attendant on a King-at-arms, 120<br> +Whose hand the armorial truncheon held,<br> +That feudal strife had often quell’d,<br> + When wildest its alarms.<br> +<br> +<br> +VII.<br> +<br> + He was a man of middle age;<br> + In aspect manly, grave, and sage, +125<br> + As on King’s errand come;<br> + But in the glances of his eye,<br> + A penetrating, keen, and sly<br> + Expression found its home;<br> + The flash of that satiric rage, +130<br> + Which, bursting on the early stage,<br> + Branded the vices of the age,<br> + And broke the keys of Rome.<br> + On milk-white palfrey forth he paced;<br> + His cap of maintenance was graced +135<br> + With the proud heron-plume.<br> + From his steed’s shoulder, loin, and breast,<br> + Silk housings swept the ground,<br> + With Scotland’s arms, device, and crest,<br> + Embroider’d round and round. +140<br> + The double tressure might you see,<br> + First by Achaius borne,<br> + The thistle and the fleur-de-lis,<br> + And gallant unicorn.<br> +So bright the King’s armorial coat, +145<br> +That scarce the dazzled eye could note,<br> +In living colours, blazon’d brave,<br> +The Lion, which his title gave;<br> +A train, which well beseem’d his state,<br> +But all unarm’d, around him wait. +150<br> + Still is thy name in high account,<br> + And still thy verse has charms,<br> + Sir David Lindesay of the Mount,<br> + Lord Lion King-at-arms!<br> +<br> +<br> +VIII.<br> +<br> +Down from his horse did Marmion spring, +155<br> +Soon as he saw the Lion-King;<br> +For well the stately Baron knew<br> +To him such courtesy was due,<br> +Whom Royal James himself had crown’d,<br> +And on his temples placed the round +160<br> + Of Scotland’s ancient diadem:<br> +And wet his brow with hallow’d wine,<br> +And on his finger given to shine<br> + The emblematic gem.<br> +Their mutual greetings duly made, +165<br> +The Lion thus his message said:-<br> +‘Though Scotland’s King hath deeply swore<br> +Ne’er to knit faith with Henry more,<br> +And strictly hath forbid resort<br> +From England to his royal court; 170<br> +Yet, for he knows Lord Marmion’s name,<br> +And honours much his warlike fame,<br> +My liege hath deem’d it shame, and lack<br> +Of courtesy, to turn him back;<br> +And, by his order, I, your guide, +175<br> +Must lodging fit and fair provide,<br> +Till finds King James meet time to see<br> +The flower of English chivalry.’<br> +<br> +<br> +IX.<br> +<br> +Though inly chafed at this delay,<br> +Lord Marmion bears it as he may. 180<br> +The Palmer, his mysterious guide,<br> +Beholding thus his place supplied,<br> + Sought to take leave in vain:<br> +Strict was the Lion-King’s command,<br> +That none, who rode in Marmion’s band, +185<br> + Should sever from the train:<br> +‘England has here enow of spies<br> +In Lady Heron’s witching eyes;’<br> +To Marchmount thus, apart, he said,<br> +But fair pretext to Marmion made. +190<br> +The right hand path they now decline,<br> +And trace against the stream the Tyne.<br> +<br> +<br> +X.<br> +<br> +At length up that wild dale they wind,<br> + Where Crichtoun Castle crowns the bank;<br> +For there the Lion’s care assign’d + 195<br> + A lodging meet for Marmion’s rank.<br> +That Castle rises on the steep<br> + Of the green vale of Tyne:<br> +And far beneath, where slow they creep,<br> +From pool to eddy, dark and deep, +200<br> +Where alders moist, and willows weep,<br> + You hear her streams repine.<br> +The towers in different ages rose;<br> +Their various architecture shows<br> + The builders’ various hands; +205<br> +A mighty mass, that could oppose,<br> +When deadliest hatred fired its foes,<br> + The vengeful Douglas bands.<br> +<br> +<br> +XI.<br> +<br> +Crichtoun! though now thy miry court<br> + But pens the lazy steer and sheep, 210<br> + Thy turrets rude, and totter’d Keep,<br> +Have been the minstrel’s loved resort.<br> +Oft have I traced, within thy fort,<br> + Of mouldering shields the mystic sense,<br> + Scutcheons of honour, or pretence, 215<br> +Quarter’d in old armorial sort,<br> + Remains of rude magnificence.<br> +Nor wholly yet had time defaced<br> + Thy lordly gallery fair;<br> +Nor yet the stony cord unbraced, 220<br> +Whose twisted knots, with roses laced,<br> + Adorn thy ruin’d stair.<br> +Still rises unimpair’d below,<br> +The court-yard’s graceful portico;<br> +Above its cornice, row and row 225<br> + Of fair hewn facets richly show<br> + Their pointed diamond form,<br> + Though there but houseless cattle go,<br> + To shield them from the storm.<br> + And, shuddering, still may we explore, 230<br> + Where oft whilom were captives pent,<br> + The darkness of thy Massy More;<br> + Or, from thy grass-grown battlement,<br> +May trace, in undulating line,<br> +The sluggish mazes of the Tyne. +235<br> +<br> +<br> +XII.<br> +<br> +Another aspect Crichtoun show’d,<br> +As through its portal Marmion rode;<br> +But yet ‘twas melancholy state<br> +Received him at the outer gate;<br> +For none were in the Castle then, +240<br> +But women, boys, or aged men.<br> +With eyes scarce dried, the sorrowing dame,<br> +To welcome noble Marmion, came;<br> +Her son, a stripling twelve years old,<br> +Proffer’d the Baron’s rein to hold; + 245<br> +For each man that could draw a sword<br> +Had march’d that morning with their lord,<br> +Earl Adam Hepburn,-he who died<br> +On Flodden, by his sovereign’s side.<br> +Long may his Lady look in vain! +250<br> +She ne’er shall see his gallant train,<br> +Come sweeping back through Crichtoun-Dean.<br> +‘Twas a brave race, before the name<br> +Of hated Bothwell stain’d their fame.<br> +<br> +<br> +XIII.<br> +<br> +And here two days did Marmion rest, +255<br> + With every rite that honour claims,<br> +Attended as the King’s own guest;-<br> + Such the command of Royal James,<br> +Who marshall’d then his land’s array,<br> +Upon the Borough-moor that lay. +260<br> +Perchance he would not foeman’s eye<br> +Upon his gathering host should pry,<br> +Till full prepared was every band<br> +To march against the English land.<br> +Here while they dwelt, did Lindesay’s wit +265<br> +Oft cheer the Baron’s moodier fit;<br> +And, in his turn, he knew to prize<br> +Lord Marmion’s powerful mind, and wise,-<br> +Train’d in the lore of Rome and Greece,<br> +And policies of war and peace. 270<br> +<br> +<br> +XIV.<br> +<br> +It chanced, as fell the second night,<br> + That on the battlements they walk’d,<br> +And, by the slowly fading light,<br> + Of varying topics talk’d;<br> +And, unaware, the Herald-bard +275<br> +Said, Marmion might his toil have spared,<br> + In travelling so far;<br> +For that a messenger from heaven<br> +In vain to James had counsel given<br> + Against the English war: 280<br> +And, closer question’d, thus he told<br> +A tale, which chronicles of old<br> +In Scottish story have enroll’d:<br> +<br> +<br> +XV.<br> +<br> +Sir David Lindsey’s Tale.<br> +<br> +‘Of all the palaces so fair,<br> + Built for the royal dwelling, +285<br> +In Scotland, far beyond compare<br> + Linlithgow is excelling;<br> +And in its park, in jovial June,<br> +How sweet the merry linnet’s tune,<br> + How blithe the blackbird’s lay! +290<br> +The wild buck bells from ferny brake,<br> +The coot dives merry on the lake,<br> +The saddest heart might pleasure take<br> + To see all nature gay.<br> +But June is to our Sovereign dear +295<br> +The heaviest month in all the year:<br> +Too well his cause of grief you know,<br> +June saw his father’s overthrow.<br> +Woe to the traitors, who could bring<br> +The princely boy against his King! 300<br> +Still in his conscience burns the sting.<br> +In offices as strict as Lent,<br> +King James’s June is ever spent.<br> +<br> +<br> +XVI.<br> +<br> +‘When last this ruthful month was come,<br> +And in Linlithgow’s holy dome +305<br> + The King, as wont, was praying;<br> +While, for his royal father’s soul,<br> +The chanters sung, the bells did toll,<br> + The Bishop mass was saying-<br> +For now the year brought round again 310<br> +The day the luckless King was slain-<br> +In Katharine’s aisle the monarch knelt,<br> +With sackcloth-shirt, and iron belt,<br> + And eyes with sorrow streaming;<br> +Around him in their stalls of state, 315<br> +The Thistle’s Knight-Companions sate,<br> + Their banners o’er them beaming.<br> +I too was there, and, sooth to tell,<br> +Bedeafen’d with the jangling knell,<br> +Was watching where the sunbeams fell, +320<br> + Through the stain’d casement gleaming;<br> +But, while I mark’d what next befell,<br> + It seem’d as I were dreaming.<br> +Stepp’d from the crowd a ghostly wight,<br> +In azure gown, with cincture white; +325<br> +His forehead bald, his head was bare,<br> +Down hung at length his yellow hair.-<br> +Now, mock me not, when, good my Lord,<br> +I pledge to you my knightly word,<br> +That, when I saw his placid grace, 330<br> +His simple majesty of face,<br> +His solemn bearing, and his pace<br> + So stately gliding on,-<br> +Seem’d to me ne’er did limner paint<br> +So just an image of the Saint, 335<br> +Who propp’d the Virgin in her faint,-<br> + The loved Apostle John!<br> +<br> +<br> +XVII.<br> +<br> +‘He stepp’d before the Monarch’s chair,<br> +And stood with rustic plainness there,<br> +And little reverence made; 340<br> +Nor head, nor body, bow’d nor bent,<br> +But on the desk his arm he leant,<br> + And words like these he said,<br> +In a low voice,-but never tone<br> +So thrill’d through vein, and nerve, and bone:-<br> +“My mother sent me from afar, +346<br> +Sir King, to warn thee not to war,-<br> + Woe waits on thine array;<br> +If war thou wilt, of woman fair,<br> +Her witching wiles and wanton snare, 350<br> +James Stuart, doubly warn’d, beware:<br> + God keep thee as He may!”-<br> + The wondering monarch seem’d to seek<br> + For answer, and found none;<br> + And when he raised his head to speak, +355<br> + The monitor was gone.<br> +The Marshal and myself had cast<br> +To stop him as he outward pass’d;<br> +But, lighter than the whirlwind’s blast,<br> + He vanish’d from our eyes, +360<br> +Like sunbeam on the billow cast,<br> + That glances but, and dies.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XVIII.<br> +<br> + While Lindesay told his marvel strange,<br> + The twilight was so pale,<br> + He mark’d not Marmion’s colour change, + 365<br> + While listening to the tale:<br> + But, after a suspended pause,<br> + The Baron spoke:-‘Of Nature’s laws<br> + So strong I held the force,<br> + That never superhuman cause +370<br> + Could e’er control their course;<br> +And, three days since, had judged your aim<br> +Was but to make your guest your game.<br> +But I have seen, since past the Tweed,<br> +What much has changed my sceptic creed, +375<br> +And made me credit aught.’-He staid,<br> +And seem’d to wish his words unsaid:<br> +But, by that strong emotion press’d,<br> +Which prompts us to unload our breast,<br> + Even when discovery’s pain, +380<br> +To Lindesay did at length unfold<br> +The tale his village host had told,<br> + At Gifford, to his train.<br> +Nought of the Palmer says he there,<br> +And nought of Constance, or of Clare; +385<br> +The thoughts, which broke his sleep, he seems<br> +To mention but as feverish dreams.<br> +<br> +<br> +XIX.<br> +<br> +‘In vain,’ said he, ‘to rest I spread<br> +My burning limbs, and couch’d my head:<br> + Fantastic thoughts return’d; +390<br> +And, by their wild dominion led,<br> + My heart within me burn’d.<br> +So sore was the delirious goad,<br> +I took my steed, and forth I rode,<br> +And, as the moon shone bright and cold, +395<br> +Soon reach’d the camp upon the wold.<br> +The southern entrance I pass’d through,<br> +And halted, and my bugle blew.<br> +Methought an answer met my ear,-<br> +Yet was the blast so low and drear, +400<br> +So hollow, and so faintly blown,<br> +It might be echo of my own.<br> +<br> +<br> +XX.<br> +<br> +‘Thus judging, for a little space<br> +I listen’d, ere I left the place;<br> + But scarce could trust my eyes, +405<br> +Nor yet can think they serve me true,<br> +When sudden in the ring I view,<br> +In form distinct of shape and hue,<br> + A mounted champion rise.-<br> +I’ve fought, Lord-Lion, many a day, +410<br> +In single fight, and mix’d affray,<br> +And ever, I myself may say,<br> + Have borne me as a knight;<br> +But when this unexpected foe<br> +Seem’d starting from the gulf below,- +415<br> +I care not though the truth I show,-<br> + I trembled with affright;<br> +And as I placed in rest my spear,<br> +My hand so shook for very fear,<br> +I scarce could couch it right. 420<br> +<br> +<br> +XXI.<br> +<br> +‘Why need my tongue the issue tell?<br> +We ran our course,-my charger fell;-<br> +What could he ‘gainst the shock of hell?<br> + I roll’d upon the plain.<br> +High o’er my head, with threatening hand, +425<br> +The spectre shook his naked brand,-<br> + Yet did the worst remain:<br> +My dazzled eyes I upward cast,-<br> +Not opening hell itself could blast<br> + Their sight, like what I saw! +430<br> +Full on his face the moonbeam strook!-<br> +A face could never be mistook!<br> +I knew the stern vindictive look,<br> + And held my breath for awe.<br> +I saw the face of one who, fled +435<br> +To foreign climes, has long been dead,-<br> + I well believe the last;<br> +For ne’er, from vizor raised, did stare<br> +A human warrior, with a glare<br> + So grimly and so ghast. +440<br> +Thrice o’er my head he shook the blade;<br> +But when to good Saint George I pray’d,<br> +(The first time e’er I ask’d his aid),<br> + He plunged it in the sheath;<br> +And, on his courser mounting light, +445<br> +He seem’d to vanish from my sight:<br> +The moonbeam droop’d, and deepest night<br> + Sunk down upon the heath.-<br> + ‘Twere long to tell what cause I have<br> + To know his face, that met me there, 450<br> + Call’d by his hatred from the grave,<br> + To cumber upper air:<br> +Dead, or alive, good cause had he<br> +To be my mortal enemy.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXII.<br> +<br> +Marvell’d Sir David of the Mount; +455<br> +Then, learn’d in story, ‘gan recount<br> + Such chance had happ’d of old,<br> +When once, near Norham, there did fight<br> +A spectre fell of fiendish might,<br> +In likeness of a Scottish knight, +460<br> + With Brian Bulmer bold,<br> +And train’d him nigh to disallow<br> +The aid of his baptismal vow.<br> +‘And such a phantom, too, ‘tis said,<br> +With Highland broadsword, targe, and plaid 465<br> + And fingers red with gore,<br> +Is seen in Rothiemurcus glade,<br> +Or where the sable pine-tree shade<br> +Dark Tomantoul, and Auchnaslaid,<br> + Dromouchty, or Glenmore. 470<br> +And yet, whate’er such legends say,<br> +Of warlike demon, ghost, or lay,<br> + On mountain, moor, or plain,<br> +Spotless in faith, in bosom bold,<br> +True son of chivalry should hold 475<br> + These midnight terrors vain;<br> +For seldom have such spirits power<br> +To harm, save in the evil hour,<br> +When guilt we meditate within,<br> +Or harbour unrepented sin.’- +480<br> +Lord Marmion turn’d him half aside,<br> +And twice to clear his voice he tried,<br> + Then press’d Sir David’s hand,-<br> +But nought, at length, in answer said;<br> +And here their farther converse staid, 485<br> + Each ordering that his band<br> +Should bowne them with the rising day,<br> +To Scotland’s camp to take their way,<br> + Such was the King’s command.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIII.<br> +<br> +Early they took Dun-Edin’s road, +490<br> +And I could trace each step they trode:<br> +Hill, brook, nor dell, nor rock, nor stone,<br> +Lies on the path to me unknown.<br> +Much might if boast of storied lore;<br> +But, passing such digression o’er, +495<br> +Suffice it that their route was laid<br> +Across the furzy hills of Braid.<br> +They pass’d the glen and scanty rill,<br> +And climb’d the opposing bank, until<br> +They gain’d the top of Blackford Hill. +500<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIV.<br> +<br> +Blackford! on whose uncultured breast,<br> + Among the broom, and thorn, and whin,<br> +A truant-boy, I sought the nest,<br> +Or listed, as I lay at rest,<br> + While rose, on breezes thin, 505<br> +The murmur of the city crowd,<br> +And, from his steeple jangling loud,<br> + Saint Giles’s mingling din.<br> +Now, from the summit to the plain,<br> +Waves all the hill with yellow grain; +510<br> + And o’er the landscape as I look,<br> +Nought do I see unchanged remain,<br> + Save the rude cliffs and chiming brook.<br> +To me they make a heavy moan,<br> +Of early friendships past and gone. +515<br> +<br> +<br> +XXV.<br> +<br> +But different far the change has been,<br> + Since Marmion, from the crown<br> +Of Blackford, saw that martial scene<br> + Upon the bent so brown:<br> +Thousand pavilions, white as snow, 520<br> +Spread all the Borough-moor below,<br> + Upland, and dale, and down:-<br> +A thousand did I say? I ween,<br> +Thousands on thousands there were seen<br> +That chequer’d all the heath between +525<br> + The streamlet and the town;<br> +In crossing ranks extending far,<br> +Forming a camp irregular;<br> +Oft giving way, where still there stood<br> +Some relics of the old oak wood, 530<br> +That darkly huge did intervene,<br> +And tamed the glaring white with green:<br> +In these extended lines there lay<br> +A martial kingdom’s vast array.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVI.<br> +<br> +For from Hebudes, dark with rain, +535<br> +To eastern Lodon’s fertile plain,<br> +And from the southern Redswire edge,<br> +To farthest Rosse’s rocky ledge:<br> +From west to east, from south to north,<br> +Scotland sent all her warriors forth. +540<br> +Marmion might hear the mingled hum<br> +Of myriads up the mountain come;<br> +The horses’ tramp, and tingling clank,<br> +Where chiefs review’d their vassal rank,<br> + And charger’s shrilling neigh; +545<br> +And see the shifting lines advance,<br> +While frequent flash’d, from shield and lance,<br> + The sun’s reflected ray.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVII.<br> +<br> +Thin curling in the morning air,<br> +The wreaths of failing smoke declare 550<br> +To embers now the brands decay’d,<br> +Where the night-watch their fires had made.<br> +They saw, slow rolling on the plain,<br> +Full many a baggage-cart and wain,<br> +And dire artillery’s clumsy car, +555<br> +By sluggish oxen tugg’d to war;<br> +And there were Borthwick’s Sisters Seven,<br> +And culverins which France had given.<br> +Ill-omen’d gift! the guns remain<br> +The conqueror’s spoil on Flodden plain. +560<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVIII.<br> +<br> +Nor mark’d they less, where in the air<br> +A thousand streamers flaunted fair;<br> + Various in shape, device, and hue,<br> + Green, sanguine, purple, red, and blue,<br> +Broad, narrow, swallow-tail’d, and square, +565<br> +Scroll, pennon, pensil, bandrol, there<br> + O’er the pavilions flew.<br> +Highest, and midmost, was descried<br> +The royal banner floating wide;<br> + The staff, a pine-tree, strong and straight, 570<br> +Pitch’d deeply in a massive stone,<br> +Which still in memory is shown,<br> + Yet bent beneath the standard’s weight<br> + Whene’er the western wind unroll’d,<br> + With toil, the huge and cumbrous fold, 575<br> +And gave to view the dazzling field,<br> +Where, in proud Scotland’s royal shield,<br> + The ruddy lion ramp’d in gold.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIX.<br> +<br> +Lord Marmion view’d the landscape bright,-<br> +He view’d it with a chiefs delight,- +580<br> + Until within him burn’d his heart,<br> + And lightning from his eye did part,<br> + As on the battle-day;<br> + Such glance did falcon never dart,<br> + When stooping on his prey. 585<br> +‘Oh! well, Lord-Lion, hast thou said,<br> +Thy King from warfare to dissuade<br> + Were but a vain essay:<br> +For, by St. George, were that host mine,<br> +Not power infernal, nor divine, +590<br> +Should once to peace my soul incline,<br> +Till I had dimm’d their armour’s shine<br> + In glorious battle-fray!’<br> +Answer’d the Bard, of milder mood:<br> +‘Fair is the sight,-and yet ‘twere good, + 595<br> + That Kings would think withal,<br> +When peace and wealth their land has bless’d,<br> +‘Tis better to sit still at rest,<br> + Than rise, perchance to fall.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXX.<br> +<br> +Still on the spot Lord Marmion stay’d, +600<br> +For fairer scene he ne’er survey’d.<br> + When sated with the martial show<br> + That peopled all the plain below,<br> + The wandering eye could o’er it go,<br> + And mark the distant city glow 605<br> + With gloomy splendour red;<br> + For on the smoke-wreaths, huge and slow,<br> + That round her sable turrets flow,<br> + The morning beams were shed,<br> + And tinged them with a lustre proud, 610<br> + Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud.<br> +Such dusky grandeur clothed the height,<br> +Where the huge Castle holds its state,<br> + And all the steep slope down,<br> +Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, +615<br> +Piled deep and massy, close and high,<br> + Mine own romantic town!<br> +But northward far, with purer blaze,<br> +On Ochil mountains fell the rays,<br> +And as each heathy top they kiss’d, +620<br> +It gleam’d a purple amethyst.<br> +Yonder the shores of Fife you saw;<br> +Here Preston-Bay, and Berwick-Law;<br> + And, broad between them roll’d,<br> +The gallant Frith the eye might note, +625<br> +Whose islands on its bosom float,<br> + Like emeralds chased in gold.<br> +Fitz-Eustace’ heart felt closely pent;<br> +As if to give his rapture vent,<br> +The spur he to his charger lent, 630<br> + And raised his bridle hand,<br> +And, making demi-volte in air,<br> +Cried, ‘Where’s the coward that would not dare<br> + To fight for such a land!’<br> +The Lindesay smiled his joy to see; +635<br> +Nor Marmion’s frown repress’d his glee.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXI.<br> +<br> +Thus while they look’d, a flourish proud,<br> +Where mingled trump, and clarion loud,<br> + And fife, and kettle-drum,<br> +And sackbut deep, and psaltery, +640<br> +And war-pipe with discordant cry,<br> +And cymbal clattering to the sky,<br> +Making wild music bold and high,<br> + Did up the mountain come;<br> +The whilst the bells, with distant chime, +645<br> +Merrily toll’d the hour of prime,<br> + And thus the Lindesay spoke:<br> +‘Thus clamour still the war-notes when<br> +The King to mass his way has ta’en,<br> +Or to Saint Katharine’s of Sienne, +650<br> + Or Chapel of Saint Rocque.<br> +To you they speak of martial fame;<br> +But me remind of peaceful game,<br> + When blither was their cheer,<br> +Thrilling in Falkland-woods the air, 655<br> +In signal none his steed should spare,<br> +But strive which foremost might repair<br> + To the downfall of the deer.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXII.<br> +<br> +‘Nor less,’ he said,-‘when looking forth,<br> +I view yon Empress of the North +660<br> + Sit on her hilly throne;<br> +Her palace’s imperial bowers,<br> +Her castle, proof to hostile powers,<br> +Her stately halls and holy towers-<br> + Nor less,’ he said, ‘I moan, + 665<br> +To think what woe mischance may bring,<br> +And how these merry bells may ring<br> +The death-dirge of our gallant King;<br> + Or with the larum call<br> +The burghers forth to watch and ward, +670<br> +‘Gainst southern sack and fires to guard<br> + Dun-Edin’s leaguer’d wall.-<br> +But not for my presaging thought,<br> +Dream conquest sure, or cheaply bought!<br> + Lord Marmion, I say nay: 675<br> +God is the guider of the field,<br> +He breaks the champion’s spear and shield,--<br> + But thou thyself shalt say,<br> +When joins yon host in deadly stowre,<br> +That England’s dames must weep in bower, +680<br> + Her monks the death-mass sing;<br> +For never saw’st thou such a power<br> + Led on by such a King.’-<br> +And now, down winding to the plain,<br> +The barriers of the camp they gain, +685<br> + And there they made a stay.-<br> +There stays the Minstrel, till he fling<br> +His hand o’er every Border string,<br> +And fit his harp the pomp to sing,<br> +Of Scotland’s ancient Court and King, +695<br> + In the succeeding lay.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH</b>.<br> +<br> +<i>TO GEORGE ELLIS, ESQ.<br> +<br> +Edinburgh</i>.<br> +<br> +When dark December glooms the day,<br> +And takes our autumn joys away;<br> +When short and scant the sunbeam throws,<br> +Upon the weary waste of snows,<br> +A cold and profitless regard, +5<br> +Like patron on a needy bard;<br> +When silvan occupation’s done,<br> +And o’er the chimney rests the gun,<br> +And hang, in idle trophy, near,<br> +The game-pouch, fishing-rod, and spear; 10<br> +When wiry terrier, rough and grim,<br> +And greyhound, with his length of limb,<br> +And pointer, now employ’d no more,<br> +Cumber our parlour’s narrow floor;<br> +When in his stall the impatient steed 15<br> +Is long condemn’d to rest and feed;<br> +When from our snow-encircled home,<br> +Scarce cares the hardiest step to roam<br> +Since path is none, save that to bring<br> +The needful water from the spring; +20<br> +When wrinkled news-page, thrice conn’d o’er,<br> +Beguiles the dreary hour no more,<br> +And darkling politician, cross’d,<br> +Inveighs against the lingering post,<br> +And answering housewife sore complains +25<br> +Of carriers’ snow-impeded wains;<br> +When such the country cheer, I come,<br> +Well pleased, to seek our city home;<br> +For converse, and for books, to change<br> +The Forest’s melancholy range, +30<br> +And welcome, with renew’d delight,<br> +The busy day and social night.<br> +<br> + Not here need my desponding rhyme<br> +Lament the ravages of time,<br> +As erst by Newark’s riven towers, +35<br> +And Ettrick stripp’d of forest bowers.<br> +True,-Caledonia’s Queen is changed,<br> +Since on her dusky summit ranged,<br> +Within its steepy limits pent,<br> +By bulwark, line, and battlement, 40<br> +And flanking towers, and laky flood,<br> +Guarded and garrison’d she stood,<br> +Denying entrance or resort,<br> +Save at each tall embattled port;<br> +Above whose arch, suspended, hung 45<br> +Portcullis spiked with iron prong.<br> +That long is gone,-but not so long,<br> +Since, early closed, and opening late,<br> +Jealous revolved the studded gate,<br> +Whose task, from eve to morning tide, 50<br> +A wicket churlishly supplied.<br> +Stern then, and steel-girt was thy brow,<br> +Dun-Edin! O, how altered now,<br> +When safe amid thy mountain court<br> +Thou sitt’st, like Empress at her sport, +55<br> +And liberal, unconfined, and free,<br> +Flinging thy white arms to the sea,<br> +For thy dark cloud, with umber’d lower,<br> +That hung o’er cliff, and lake, and tower,<br> +Thou gleam’st against the western ray +60<br> +Ten thousand lines of brighter day.<br> +<br> + Not she, the Championess of old,<br> +In Spenser’s magic tale enroll’d,<br> +She for the charmed spear renown’d,<br> +Which forced each knight to kiss the ground,-<br> +Not she more changed, when, placed at rest, 66<br> +What time she was Malbecco’s guest,<br> +She gave to flow her maiden vest;<br> +When from the corselet’s grasp relieved,<br> +Free to the sight her bosom heaved; 70<br> +Sweet was her blue eye’s modest smile,<br> +Erst hidden by the aventayle;<br> +And down her shoulders graceful roll’d<br> +Her locks profuse, of paly gold.<br> +They who whilom, in midnight fight, 75<br> +Had marvell’d at her matchless might,<br> +No less her maiden charms approved,<br> +But looking liked, and liking loved.<br> +The sight could jealous pangs beguile,<br> +And charm Malbecco’s cares a while; +80<br> +And he, the wandering Squire of Dames,<br> +Forgot his Columbella’s claims,<br> +And passion, erst unknown, could gain<br> +The breast of blunt Sir Satyrane;<br> +Nor durst light Paridel advance, +85<br> +Bold as he was, a looser glance.<br> +She charm’d, at once, and tamed the heart,<br> +Incomparable Britomane!<br> +<br> + So thou, fair City! disarray’d<br> +Of battled wall, and rampart’s aid, +90<br> +As stately seem’st, but lovelier far<br> +Than in that panoply of war.<br> +Nor deem that from thy fenceless throne<br> +Strength and security are flown;<br> +Still as of yore, Queen of the North! 95<br> +Still canst thou send thy children forth.<br> +Ne’er readier at alarm-bell’s call<br> +Thy burghers rose to man thy wall,<br> +Than now, in danger, shall be thine,<br> +Thy dauntless voluntary line; +100<br> +For fosse and turret proud to stand,<br> +Their breasts the bulwarks of the land.<br> +Thy thousands, train’d to martial toil,<br> +Full red would stain their native soil,<br> +Ere from thy mural crown there fell +105<br> +The slightest knosp, or pinnacle.<br> +And if it come,-as come it may,<br> +Dun-Edin! that eventful day,-<br> +Renown’d for hospitable deed,<br> +That virtue much with Heaven may plead, +110<br> +In patriarchal times whose care<br> +Descending angels deign’d to share;<br> +That claim may wrestle blessings down<br> +On those who fight for The Good Town,<br> +Destined in every age to be +115<br> +Refuge of injured royalty;<br> +Since first, when conquering York arose,<br> +To Henry meek she gave repose,<br> +Till late, with wonder, grief, and awe,<br> +Great Bourbon’s relics, sad she saw. +120<br> +<br> + Truce to these thoughts!-for, as they rise,<br> +How gladly I avert mine eyes,<br> +Bodings, or true or false, to change,<br> +For Fiction’s fair romantic range,<br> +Or for Tradition’s dubious light, +125<br> +That hovers ‘twixt the day and night:<br> +Dazzling alternately and dim<br> +Her wavering lamp I’d rather trim,<br> +Knights, squires, and lovely dames, to see,<br> +Creation of my fantasy, +130<br> +Than gaze abroad on reeky fen,<br> +And make of mists invading men.-<br> +Who loves not more the night of June<br> +Than dull December’s gloomy noon?<br> +The moonlight than the fog of frost? 135<br> +But can we say, which cheats the most?<br> +<br> + But who shall teach my harp to gain<br> +A sound of the romantic strain,<br> +Whose Anglo-Norman tones whilere<br> +Could win the royal Henry’s ear, +140<br> +Famed Beauclerk call’d, for that he loved<br> +The minstrel, and his lay approved?<br> +Who shall these lingering notes redeem,<br> +Decaying on Oblivion’s stream;<br> +Such notes as from the Breton tongue 145<br> +Marie translated, Blondel sung?-<br> +O! born, Time’s ravage to repair,<br> +And make the dying Muse thy care;<br> +Who, when his scythe her hoary foe<br> +Was poising for the final blow, +150<br> +The weapon from his hand could wring,<br> +And break his glass, and shear his wing,<br> +And bid, reviving in his strain,<br> +The gentle poet live again;<br> +Thou, who canst give to lightest lay 155<br> +An unpedantic moral gay,<br> +Nor less the dullest theme bid flit<br> +On wings of unexpected wit;<br> +In letters as in life approved,<br> +Example honour’d, and beloved,- +160<br> +Dear ELLIS! to the bard impart<br> +A lesson of thy magic art,<br> +To win at once the head and heart,-<br> +At once to charm, instruct, and mend,<br> +My guide, my pattern, and my friend! 165<br> +<br> + Such minstrel lesson to bestow<br> +Be long thy pleasing task,-but, O!<br> +No more by thy example teach,-<br> +What few can practise, all can preach,-<br> +With even patience to endure 170<br> +Lingering disease, and painful cure,<br> +And boast affliction’s pangs subdued<br> +By mild and manly fortitude.<br> +Enough, the lesson has been given:<br> +Forbid the repetition, Heaven! 175<br> +<br> + Come listen, then! for thou hast known,<br> +And loved the Minstrel’s varying tone,<br> +Who, like his Border sires of old,<br> +Waked a wild measure rude and bold,<br> +Till Windsor’s oaks, and Ascot plain, +180<br> +With wonder heard the northern strain.<br> +Come listen! bold in thy applause,<br> +The Bard shall scorn pedantic laws;<br> +And, as the ancient art could stain<br> +Achievements on the storied pane, +185<br> +Irregularly traced and plann’d,<br> +But yet so glowing and so grand,-<br> +So shall he strive, in changeful hue,<br> +Field, feast, and combat, to renew,<br> +And loves, and arms, and harpers’ glee, +191<br> +And all the pomp of chivalry.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO FIFTH</b>.<br> +<br> +THE COURT.<br> +<br> +<br> +I.<br> +<br> +The train has left the hills of Braid;<br> +The barrier guard have open made<br> +(So Lindesay bade) the palisade,<br> + That closed the tented ground;<br> +Their men the warders backward drew, 5<br> +And carried pikes as they rode through,<br> + Into its ample bound.<br> +Fast ran the Scottish warriors there,<br> +Upon the Southern band to stare.<br> +And envy with their wonder rose, +10<br> +To see such well-appointed foes;<br> +Such length of shafts, such mighty bows,<br> +So huge, that many simply thought,<br> +But for a vaunt such weapons wrought;<br> +And little deem’d their force to feel, +15<br> +Through links of mail, and plates of steel,<br> +When rattling upon Flodden vale,<br> +The cloth-yard arrows flew like hail.<br> +<br> +<br> +II.<br> +<br> +Nor less did Marmion’s skilful view<br> +Glance every line and squadron through; 20<br> +And much he marvell’d one small land<br> +Could marshal forth such various band;<br> + For men-at-arms were here,<br> +Heavily sheathed in mail and plate,<br> +Like iron towers for strength and weight, 25<br> +On Flemish steeds of bone and height,<br> + With battle-axe and spear.<br> +Young knights and squires, a lighter train,<br> +Practised their chargers on the plain,<br> +By aid of leg, of hand, and rein, 30<br> + Each warlike feat to show,<br> +To pass, to wheel, the croupe to gain,<br> +And high curvett, that not in vain<br> +The sword sway might descend amain<br> + On foeman’s casque below. +35<br> +He saw the hardy burghers there<br> +March arm’d, on foot, with faces bare,<br> + For vizor they wore none,<br> +Nor waving plume, nor crest of knight;<br> +But burnish’d were their corslets bright, +40<br> +Their brigantines, and gorgets light,<br> + Like very silver shone.<br> +Long pikes they had for standing fight,<br> + Two-handed swords they wore,<br> +And many wielded mace of weight, +45<br> + And bucklers bright they bore.<br> +<br> +<br> +III.<br> +<br> +On foot the yeoman too, but dress’d<br> +In his steel-jack, a swarthy vest,<br> + With iron quilted well;<br> +Each at his back (a slender store) +50<br> +His forty days’ provision bore,<br> + As feudal statutes tell.<br> +His arms were halbert, axe, or spear,<br> +A crossbow there, a hagbut here,<br> + A dagger-knife, and brand. +55<br> +Sober he seem’d, and sad of cheer,<br> +As loath to leave his cottage dear,<br> + And march to foreign strand;<br> +Or musing, who would guide his steer,<br> + To till the fallow land. +60<br> +Yet deem not in his thoughtful eye<br> +Did aught of dastard terror lie;<br> +More dreadful far his ire,<br> +Than theirs, who, scorning danger’s name,<br> +In eager mood to battle came, 65<br> +Their valour like light straw on name,<br> +A fierce but fading fire.<br> +<br> +<br> +IV.<br> +<br> +Not so the Borderer:-bred to war,<br> +He knew the battle’s din afar,<br> + And joy’d to hear it swell. +70<br> +His peaceful day was slothful ease;<br> +Nor harp, nor pipe, his ear could please,<br> + Like the loud slogan yell.<br> +On active steed, with lance and blade,<br> +The light-arm’d pricker plied his trade,- +75<br> + Let nobles fight for fame;<br> +Let vassals follow where they lead,<br> +Burghers, to guard their townships, bleed,<br> + But war’s the Borderer’s game.<br> +Their gain, their glory, their delight, 80<br> +To sleep the day, maraud the night,<br> + O’er mountain, moss, and moor;<br> +Joyful to fight they took their way,<br> +Scarce caring who might win the day,<br> + Their booty was secure. 85<br> +These, as Lord Marmion’s train pass’d by,<br> +Look’d on at first with careless eye,<br> +Nor marvell’d aught, well taught to know<br> +The form and force of English bow.<br> +But when they saw the Lord array’d +90<br> +In splendid arms, and rich brocade,<br> +Each Borderer to his kinsman said,-<br> + ‘Hist, Ringan! seest thou there!<br> +Canst guess which road they’ll homeward ride?-<br> +O! could we but on Border side, 95<br> +By Eusedale glen, or Liddell’s tide,<br> + Beset a prize so fair!<br> +That fangless Lion, too, their guide,<br> +Might chance to lose his glistering hide;<br> +Brown Maudlin, of that doublet pied, 100<br> +Could make a kirtle rare.’<br> +<br> +<br> +V.<br> +<br> +Next, Marmion marked the Celtic race,<br> +Of different language, form, and face,<br> + A various race of man;<br> +Just then the Chiefs their tribes array’d, +105<br> +And wild and garish semblance made,<br> +The chequer’d trews, and belted plaid,<br> +And varying notes the war-pipes bray’d,<br> + To every varying clan,<br> +Wild through their red or sable hair 110<br> +Look’d out their eyes with savage stare,<br> + On Marmion as he pass’d;<br> +Their legs above the knee were bare;<br> +Their frame was sinewy, short, and spare,<br> + And harden’d to the blast; +115<br> +Of taller race, the chiefs they own<br> +Were by the eagle’s plumage known.<br> +The hunted red-deer’s undress’d hide<br> +Their hairy buskins well supplied;<br> +The graceful bonnet deck’d their head: +120<br> +Back from their shoulders hung the plaid;<br> +A broadsword of unwieldy length,<br> +A dagger proved for edge and strength,<br> + A studded targe they wore,<br> +And quivers, bows, and shafts,-but, O! 125<br> +Short was the shaft, and weak the bow,<br> + To that which England bore.<br> +The Isles-men carried at their backs<br> +The ancient Danish battle-axe.<br> +They raised a wild and wondering cry, +130<br> +As with his guide rode Marmion by.<br> +Loud were their clamouring tongues, as when<br> +The clanging sea-fowl leave the fen,<br> +And, with their cries discordant mix’d,<br> +Grumbled and yell’d the pipes betwixt. +135<br> +<br> +<br> +VI.<br> +<br> +Thus through the Scottish camp they pass’d,<br> +And reach’d the City gate at last,<br> +Where all around, a wakeful guard,<br> +Arm’d burghers kept their watch and ward.<br> +Well had they cause of jealous fear, 140<br> +When lay encamp’d, in field so near,<br> +The Borderer and the Mountaineer.<br> +As through the bustling streets they go,<br> +All was alive with martial show:<br> +At every turn, with dinning clang, 145<br> +The armourer’s anvil clash’d and rang;<br> +Or toil’d the swarthy smith, to wheel<br> +The bar that arms the charger’s heel;<br> +Or axe, or falchion, to the side<br> +Of jarring grindstone was applied. 150<br> +Page, groom, and squire, with hurrying pace<br> +Through street, and lane, and market-place,<br> + Bore lance, or casque, or sword;<br> +While burghers, with important face,<br> + Described each new-come lord, +155<br> +Discuss’d his lineage, told his name,<br> +His following, and his warlike fame.<br> +The Lion led to lodging meet,<br> +Which high o’erlook’d the crowded street;<br> + There must the Baron rest, 160<br> +Till past the hour of vesper tide,<br> +And then to Holy-Rood must ride,-<br> + Such was the King’s behest.<br> +Meanwhile the Lion’s care assigns<br> +A banquet rich, and costly wines, +165<br> + To Marmion and his train;<br> +And when the appointed hour succeeds,<br> +The Baron dons his peaceful weeds,<br> +And following Lindesay as he leads,<br> +The palace-halls they gain. +170<br> +<br> +<br> +VIL<br> +<br> +Old Holy-Rood rung merrily,<br> +That night, with wassell, mirth, and glee:<br> +King James within her princely bower<br> +Feasted the Chiefs of Scotland’s power,<br> +Summon’d to spend the parting hour; +175<br> +For he had charged, that his array<br> +Should southward march by break of day.<br> +Well loved that splendid monarch aye<br> + The banquet and the song,<br> +By day the tourney, and by night 180<br> +The merry dance, traced fast and light,<br> +The maskers quaint, the pageant bright,<br> + The revel loud and long.<br> +This feast outshone his banquets past;<br> +It was his blithest,-and his last. 185<br> +The dazzling lamps, from gallery gay,<br> +Cast on the Court a dancing ray;<br> +Here to the harp did minstrels sing;<br> +There ladies touched a softer string;<br> +With long-ear’d cap, and motley vest, +190<br> +The licensed fool retail’d his jest;<br> +His magic tricks the juggler plied;<br> +At dice and draughts the gallants vied;<br> +While some, in close recess apart,<br> +Courted the ladies of their heart, 195<br> + Nor courted them in vain;<br> +For often, in the parting hour,<br> +Victorious Love asserts his power<br> + O’er coldness and disdain;<br> +And flinty is her heart, can view +200<br> +To battle march a lover true-<br> +Can hear, perchance, his last adieu,<br> + Nor own her share of pain.<br> +<br> +<br> +VIII.<br> +<br> +Through this mix’d crowd of glee and game,<br> +The King to greet Lord Marmion came, 205<br> + While, reverent, all made room.<br> +An easy task it was, I trow,<br> +King James’s manly form to know,<br> +Although, his courtesy to show,<br> +He doff’d, to Marmion bending low, +210<br> + His broider’d cap and plume.<br> +For royal was his garb and mien,<br> + His cloak, of crimson velvet piled,<br> + Trimm’d with the fur of marten wild;<br> +His vest of changeful satin sheen, 215<br> + The dazzled eye beguiled;<br> +His gorgeous collar hung adown,<br> +Wrought with the badge of Scotland’s crown,<br> +The thistle brave, of old renown:<br> +His trusty blade, Toledo right, +220<br> +Descended from a baldric bright;<br> +White were his buskins, on the heel<br> +His spurs inlaid of gold and steel;<br> +His bonnet, all of crimson fair,<br> +Was button’d with a ruby rare: +225<br> +And Marmion deem’d he ne’er had seen<br> +A prince of such a noble mien.<br> +<br> +<br> +IX.<br> +<br> +The Monarch’s form was middle size;<br> +For feat of strength, or exercise,<br> + Shaped in proportion fair; 230<br> +And hazel was his eagle eye,<br> +And auburn of the darkest dye,<br> + His short curl’d beard and hair.<br> +Light was his footstep in the dance,<br> + And firm his stirrup in the lists; 235<br> +And, oh! he had that merry glance,<br> + That seldom lady’s heart resists.<br> +Lightly from fair to fair he flew,<br> +And loved to plead, lament, and sue;-<br> +Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain, +240<br> +For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.<br> + I said he joy’d in banquet bower;<br> +But, ‘mid his mirth, ‘twas often strange,<br> +How suddenly his cheer would change,<br> + His look o’ercast and lower, +245<br> +If, in a sudden turn, he felt<br> +The pressure of his iron belt,<br> +That bound his breast in penance pain,<br> +In memory of his father slain.<br> +Even so ‘twas strange how, evermore, +250<br> +Soon as the passing pang was o’er,<br> +Forward he rush’d, with double glee,<br> +Into the stream of revelry:<br> +Thus, dim-seen object of affright<br> +Startles the courser in his flight, +255<br> +And half he halts, half springs aside;<br> +But feels the quickening spur applied,<br> +And, straining on the tighten’d rein,<br> +Scours doubly swift o’er hill and plain.<br> +<br> +<br> +X.<br> +<br> +O’er James’s heart, the courtiers say, + 260<br> +Sir Hugh the Heron’s wife held sway:<br> + To Scotland’s Court she came,<br> +To be a hostage for her lord,<br> +Who Cessford’s gallant heart had gored,<br> +And with the King to make accord, +265<br> + Had sent his lovely dame.<br> +Nor to that lady free alone<br> +Did the gay King allegiance own;<br> + For the fair Queen of France<br> +Sent him a turquois ring and glove, +270<br> +And charged him, as her knight and love,<br> + For her to break a lance;<br> +And strike three strokes with Scottish brand,<br> +And march three miles on Southron land,<br> +And bid the banners of his band +275<br> + In English breezes dance.<br> +And thus, for France’s Queen he drest<br> +His manly limbs in mailed vest;<br> + And thus admitted English fair<br> + His inmost counsels still to share; +280<br> + And thus, for both, he madly plann’d<br> + The ruin of himself and land!<br> + And yet, the sooth to tell,<br> + Nor England’s fair, nor France’s Queen,<br> + Were worth one pearl-drop, bright and sheen, 285<br> + From Margaret’s eyes that fell,-<br> +His own Queen Margaret, who, in Lithgow’s bower,<br> +All lonely sat, and wept the weary hour.<br> +<br> +<br> +XI.<br> +<br> +The Queen sits lone in Lithgow pile,<br> + And weeps the weary day, 290<br> +The war against her native soil,<br> +Her monarch’s risk in battle broil:-<br> +And in gay Holy-Rood, the while,<br> +Dame Heron rises with a smile<br> + Upon the harp to play. 295<br> +Fair was her rounded arm, as o’er<br> + The strings her fingers flew;<br> +And as she touch’d and tuned them all,<br> +Ever her bosom’s rise and fall<br> + Was plainer given to view; 300<br> +For, all for heat, was laid aside<br> +Her wimple, and her hood untied.<br> +And first she pitch’d her voice to sing,<br> +Then glanced her dark eye on the King,<br> +And then around the silent ring; 305<br> +And laugh’d, and blush’d, and oft did say<br> +Her pretty oath, by Yea, and Nay,<br> +She could not, would not, durst not play!<br> +At length, upon the harp, with glee,<br> +Mingled with arch simplicity, +310<br> +A soft, yet lively, air she rung,<br> +While thus the wily lady sung:-<br> +<br> +<br> +XII.<br> +<br> +LOCHINVAR.<br> +<br> +Lady Heron’s Song<br> +<br> +O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,<br> +Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;<br> +And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none, 315<br> +He rode all unarm’d, and he rode all alone.<br> +So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,<br> +There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.<br> +<br> +He staid not for brake, and he stopp’d not for stone,<br> +He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; +320<br> +But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,<br> +The bride had consented, the gallant came late:<br> +For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,<br> +Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.<br> +<br> +So boldly he enter’d the Netherby Hall, +325<br> +Among bride’s-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:<br> +Then spoke the bride’s father, his hand on his sword,<br> +(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,)<br> +‘O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,<br> +Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?’- +330<br> +<br> +‘I long woo’d your daughter, my suit you denied;-<br> +Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide-<br> +And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,<br> +To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.<br> +There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, +335<br> +That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.’<br> +<br> +The bride kiss’d the goblet: the knight took it up,<br> +He quaff’d off the wine, and he threw down the cup.<br> +She look’d down to blush, and she look’d up to +sigh,<br> +With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. 340<br> +He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,-<br> +‘Now tread we a measure!’ said young Lochinvar.<br> +<br> +So stately his form, and so lovely her face,<br> +That never a hall such a galliard did grace;<br> +While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, +345<br> +And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;<br> +And the bride-maidens whisper’d, ‘‘Twere better +by far,<br> +To have match’d our fair cousin with young +Lochinvar.’<br> +<br> +One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,<br> +When they reach’d the hall-door, and the charger stood +near; 350<br> +So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,<br> +So light to the saddle before her he sprung!<br> +‘She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;<br> +They’ll have fleet steeds that follow,’ quoth young +Lochinvar.<br> +<br> +There was mounting ‘mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; +355<br> +Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran:<br> +There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie Lee,<br> +But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see.<br> +So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,<br> +Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? +360<br> +<br> +<br> +XIII.<br> +<br> +The Monarch o’er the siren hung,<br> +And beat the measure as she sung;<br> +And, pressing closer, and more near,<br> +He whisper’d praises in her ear.<br> +In loud applause the courtiers vied; 365<br> +And ladies wink’d, and spoke aside.<br> + The witching dame to Marmion threw<br> + A glance, where seem’d to reign<br> + The pride that claims applauses due,<br> + And of her royal conquest too, 370<br> + A real or feign’d disdain:<br> +Familiar was the look, and told,<br> +Marmion and she were friends of old.<br> +The King observed their meeting eyes,<br> +With something like displeased surprise; 375<br> +For monarchs ill can rivals brook,<br> +Even in a word, or smile, or look.<br> +Straight took he forth the parchment broad,<br> +Which Marmion’s high commission show’d:<br> +‘Our Borders sack’d by many a raid, + 380<br> +Our peaceful liege-men robb’d,’ he said;<br> +‘On day of truce our Warden slain,<br> +Stout Barton kill’d, his vessels ta’en-<br> +Unworthy were we here to reign,<br> +Should these for vengeance cry in vain; +385<br> +Our full defiance, hate, and scorn,<br> +Our herald has to Henry borne.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XIV.<br> +<br> +He paused, and led where Douglas stood,<br> +And with stern eye the pageant view’d:<br> +I mean that Douglas, sixth of yore, +390<br> +Who coronet of Angus bore,<br> +And, when his blood and heart were high,<br> +Did the third James in camp defy,<br> +And all his minions led to die<br> + On Lauder’s dreary flat: +395<br> +Princes and favourites long grew tame,<br> +And trembled at the homely name<br> + Of Archibald Bell-the-Cat;<br> +The same who left the dusky vale<br> +Of Hermitage in Liddisdale, +400<br> + Its dungeons, and its towers,<br> +Where Bothwell’s turrets brave the air,<br> +And Bothwell bank is blooming fair,<br> + To fix his princely bowers.<br> +Though now, in age, he had laid down 405<br> +His armour for the peaceful gown,<br> + And for a staff his brand,<br> +Yet often would flash forth the fire,<br> +That could, in youth, a monarch’s ire<br> + And minion’s pride withstand; +410<br> +And even that day, at council board,<br> + Unapt to soothe his sovereign’s mood,<br> + Against the war had Angus stood,<br> +And chafed his royal Lord.<br> +<br> +<br> +XV.<br> +<br> + His giant-form, like ruin’d tower, +415<br> +Though fall’n its muscles’ brawny vaunt,<br> +Huge-boned, and tall, and grim, and gaunt,<br> + Seem’d o’er the gaudy scene to lower:<br> +His locks and beard in silver grew;<br> +His eyebrows kept their sable hue. 420<br> +Near Douglas when the Monarch stood,<br> +His bitter speech he thus pursued :<br> +‘Lord Marmion, since these letters say<br> +That in the North you needs must stay,<br> + While slightest hopes of peace remain, 425<br> +Uncourteous speech it were, and stern,<br> +To say-Return to Lindisfarne,<br> + Until my herald come again.-<br> +Then rest you in Tantallon Hold;<br> +Your host shall be the Douglas bold,- 430<br> +A chief unlike his sires of old.<br> +He wears their motto on his blade,<br> +Their blazon o’er his towers display’d;<br> +Yet loves his sovereign to oppose,<br> +More than to face his country’s foes. +435<br> +And, I bethink me, by Saint Stephen,<br> + But e’en this morn to me was given<br> +A prize, the first fruits of the war,<br> +Ta’en by a galley from Dunbar,<br> + A bevy of the maids of Heaven. 440<br> +Under your guard, these holy maids<br> +Shall safe return to cloister shades,<br> +And, while they at Tantallon stay,<br> +Requiem for Cochran’s soul may say.’<br> +And, with the slaughter’d favourite’s name, + 445<br> +Across the Monarch’s brow there came<br> +A cloud of ire, remorse, and shame.<br> +<br> +<br> +XVI.<br> +<br> +In answer nought could Angus speak;<br> +His proud heart swell’d wellnigh to break:<br> +He turn’d aside, and down his cheek +450<br> + A burning tear there stole.<br> +His hand the Monarch sudden took,<br> +That sight his kind heart could not brook:<br> + ‘Now, by the Bruce’s soul,<br> +Angus, my hasty speech forgive! +455<br> +For sure as doth his spirit live,<br> +As he said of the Douglas old,<br> + I well may say of you,-<br> +That never King did subject hold,<br> +In speech more free, in war more bold, 460<br> + More tender and more true:<br> +Forgive me, Douglas, once again.’-<br> +And, while the King his hand did strain,<br> +The old man’s tears fell down like rain.<br> +To seize the moment Marmion tried, 465<br> +And whisper’d to the King aside:<br> +‘Oh! let such tears unwonted plead<br> +For respite short from dubious deed!<br> +A child will weep a bramble’s smart,<br> +A maid to see her sparrow part, +470<br> +A stripling for a woman’s heart:<br> +But woe awaits a country, when<br> +She sees the tears of bearded men.<br> +Then, oh! what omen, dark and high,<br> +When Douglas wets his manly eye!’ +475<br> +<br> +<br> +XVII.<br> +<br> +Displeased was James, that stranger view’d<br> +And tamper’d with his changing mood.<br> +‘Laugh those that can, weep those that may,’<br> +Thus did the fiery Monarch say,<br> +‘Southward I march by break of day; +480<br> +And if within Tantallon strong,<br> +The good Lord Marmion tarries long,<br> +Perchance our meeting next may fall<br> +At Tamworth, in his castle-hall.’-<br> +The haughty Marmion felt the taunt, +485<br> +And answer’d, grave, the royal vaunt:<br> +‘Much honour’d were my humble home,<br> +If in its halls King James should come;<br> +But Nottingham has archers good,<br> +And Yorkshire men are stem of mood; +490<br> +Northumbrian prickers wild and rude.<br> +On Derby Hills the paths are steep;<br> +In Ouse and Tyne the fords are deep;<br> +And many a banner will be torn,<br> +And many a knight to earth be borne, 495<br> +And many a sheaf of arrows spent,<br> +Ere Scotland’s King shall cross the Trent:<br> +Yet pause, brave Prince, while yet you may!’-<br> +The Monarch lightly turn’d away,<br> +And to his nobles loud did call,- 500<br> +‘Lords, to the dance,-a hall! a hall!’<br> +Himself his cloak and sword flung by,<br> +And led Dame Heron gallantly;<br> +And Minstrels, at the royal order,<br> +Rung out-‘Blue Bonnets o’er the Border.’ + 505<br> +<br> +<br> +XVIII.<br> +<br> +Leave we these revels now, to tell<br> +What to Saint Hilda’s maids befell,<br> +Whose galley, as they sail’d again<br> +To Whitby, by a Scot was ta’en.<br> +Now at Dun-Edin did they bide, 510<br> +Till James should of their fate decide;<br> + And soon, by his command,<br> +Were gently summon’d to prepare<br> +To journey under Marmion’s care,<br> +As escort honour’d, safe, and fair, +515<br> + Again to English land.<br> +The Abbess told her chaplet o’er,<br> +Nor knew which Saint she should implore;<br> +For, when she thought of Constance, sore<br> + She fear’d Lord Marmion’s mood. + 520<br> +And judge what Clara must have felt!<br> +The sword, that hung in Marmion’s belt,<br> + Had drunk De Wilton’s blood.<br> +Unwittingly, King James had given,<br> + As guard to Whitby’s shades, +525<br> +The man most dreaded under heaven<br> + By these defenceless maids:<br> +Yet what petition could avail,<br> +Or who would listen to the tale<br> +Of woman, prisoner, and nun, 530<br> +Mid bustle of a war begun?<br> +They deem’d it hopeless to avoid<br> +The convoy of their dangerous guide.<br> +<br> +<br> +XIX.<br> +<br> +Their lodging, so the King assign’d,<br> +To Marmion’s, as their guardian, join’d; + 535<br> +And thus it fell, that, passing nigh,<br> +The Palmer caught the Abbess’ eye,<br> + Who warn’d him by a scroll,<br> +She had a secret to reveal,<br> +That much concern’d the Church’s weal, + 540<br> + And health of sinner’s soul;<br> +And, with deep charge of secrecy,<br> + She named a place to meet,<br> +Within an open balcony,<br> +That hung from dizzy pitch, and high, +545<br> + Above the stately street;<br> +To which, as common to each home,<br> +At night they might in secret come.<br> +<br> +<br> +XX.<br> +<br> +At night, in secret, there they came,<br> +The Palmer and the holy dame. +550<br> +The moon among the clouds rose high,<br> +And all the city hum was by.<br> +Upon the street, where late before<br> +Did din of war and warriors roar,<br> + You might have heard a pebble fall, +555<br> +A beetle hum, a cricket sing,<br> +An owlet flap his boding wing<br> + On Giles’s steeple tall.<br> +The antique buildings, climbing high,<br> +Whose Gothic frontlets sought the sky, 560<br> + Were here wrapt deep in shade;<br> +There on their brows the moon-beam broke,<br> +Through the faint wreaths of silvery smoke,<br> + And on the casements play’d.<br> + And other light was none to see, 565<br> + Save torches gliding far,<br> + Before some chieftain of degree,<br> + Who left the royal revelry<br> + To bowne him for the war.-<br> +A solemn scene the Abbess chose; 570<br> +A solemn hour, her secret to disclose.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXI.<br> +<br> +‘O, holy Palmer!’ she began,-<br> +‘For sure he must be sainted man,<br> +Whose blessed feet have trod the ground<br> +Where the Redeemer’s tomb is found,- +575<br> +For His dear Church’s sake, my tale<br> +Attend, nor deem of light avail,<br> +Though I must speak of worldly love,-<br> +How vain to those who wed above!-<br> +De Wilton and Lord Marmion woo’d +580<br> +Clara de Clare, of Gloster’s blood;<br> +(Idle it were of Whitby’s dame,<br> +To say of that same blood I came;)<br> +And once, when jealous rage was high,<br> +Lord Marmion said despiteously, +585<br> +Wilton was traitor in his heart,<br> +And had made league with Martin Swart,<br> +When he came here on Simnel’s part;<br> +And only cowardice did restrain<br> +His rebel aid on Stokefield’s plain,- +590<br> +And down he threw his glove:-the thing<br> +Was tried, as wont, before the King;<br> +Where frankly did De Wilton own,<br> +That Swart in Guelders he had known;<br> +And that between them then there went +595<br> +Some scroll of courteous compliment.<br> +For this he to his castle sent;<br> +But when his messenger return’d,<br> +Judge how De Wilton’s fury burn’d!<br> +For in his packet there were laid +600<br> +Letters that claim’d disloyal aid,<br> +And proved King Henry’s cause betray’d.<br> +His fame, thus blighted, in the field<br> +He strove to clear, by spear and shield;-<br> +To clear his fame in vain he strove, 605<br> +For wondrous are His ways above!<br> +Perchance some form was unobserved;<br> +Perchance in prayer, or faith, he swerved;<br> +Else how could guiltless champion quail,<br> +Or how the blessed ordeal fail? +610<br> +<br> +<br> +XXII.<br> +<br> +‘His squire, who now De Wilton saw<br> +As recreant doom’d to suffer law,<br> + Repentant, own’d in vain,<br> +That, while he had the scrolls in care,<br> +A stranger maiden, passing fair, 615<br> +Had drench’d him with a beverage rare;<br> + His words no faith could gain.<br> +With Clare alone he credence won,<br> +Who, rather than wed Marmion,<br> +Did to Saint Hilda’s shrine repair, +620<br> +To give our house her livings fair,<br> +And die a vestal vot’ress there.<br> +The impulse from the earth was given,<br> +But bent her to the paths of heaven.<br> +A purer heart, a lovelier maid, +625<br> +Ne’er shelter’d her in Whitby’s shade,<br> +No, not since Saxon Edelfled;<br> + Only one trace of earthly strain,<br> + That for her lover’s loss<br> + She cherishes a sorrow vain, 630<br> + And murmurs at the cross.<br> + And then her heritage;-it goes<br> + Along the banks of Tame;<br> + Deep fields of grain the reaper mows,<br> + In meadows rich the heifer lows, 635<br> + The falconer and huntsman knows<br> + Its woodlands for the game.<br> +Shame were it to Saint Hilda dear,<br> +And I, her humble vot’ress here,<br> + Should do a deadly sin, +640<br> +Her temple spoil’d before mine eyes,<br> +If this false Marmion such a prize<br> + By my consent should win;<br> +Yet hath our boisterous monarch sworn,<br> +That Clare shall from our house be torn; 645<br> +And grievous cause have I to fear,<br> +Such mandate doth Lord Marmion bear.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIII.<br> +<br> +‘Now, prisoner, helpless, and betray’d<br> +To evil power, I claim thine aid,<br> + By every step that thou hast trod +650<br> +To holy shrine and grotto dim,<br> +By every martyr’s tortured limb,<br> +By angel, saint, and seraphim,<br> +And by the Church of God!<br> +For mark:-When Wilton was betray’d, +655<br> +And with his squire forged letters laid,<br> +She was, alas! that sinful maid,<br> + By whom the deed was done,-<br> +Oh! shame and horror to be said!<br> + She was a perjured nun! +660<br> +No clerk in all the land, like her,<br> +Traced quaint and varying character.<br> +Perchance you may a marvel deem,<br> + That Marmion’s paramour<br> +(For such vile thing she was) should scheme +665<br> + Her lover’s nuptial hour;<br> +But o’er him thus she hoped to gain,<br> +As privy to his honour’s stain,<br> + Illimitable power:<br> +For this she secretly retain’d +670<br> + Each proof that might the plot reveal,<br> + Instructions with his hand and seal;<br> +And thus Saint Hilda deign’d,<br> + Through sinners’ perfidy impure,<br> + Her house’s glory to secure, +675<br> +And Clare’s immortal weal.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIV.<br> +<br> +‘Twere long, and needless, here to tell,<br> +How to my hand these papers fell;<br> + With me they must not stay.<br> +Saint Hilda keep her Abbess true! +680<br> +Who knows what outrage he might do,<br> + While journeying by the way?-<br> +O, blessed Saint, if e’er again<br> +I venturous leave thy calm domain,<br> +To travel or by land or main, +685<br> + Deep penance may I pay!-<br> +Now, saintly Palmer, mark my prayer:<br> +I give this packet to thy care,<br> +For thee to stop they will not dare;<br> +And O! with cautious speed, +690<br> +To Wolsey’s hand the papers ‘bring,<br> +That he may show them to the King:<br> + And, for thy well-earn’d meed,<br> +Thou holy man, at Whitby’s shrine<br> +A weekly mass shall still be thine, +695<br> + While priests can sing and read.<br> +What ail’st thou?-Speak!’-For as he took<br> +The charge, a strong emotion shook<br> + His frame; and, ere reply,<br> +They heard a faint, yet shrilly tone, +700<br> +Like distant clarion feebly blown,<br> + That on the breeze did die;<br> +And loud the Abbess shriek’d in fear,<br> +‘Saint Withold, save us!-What is here!<br> + Look at yon City Cross! +705<br> +See on its battled tower appear<br> +Phantoms, that scutcheons seem to rear,<br> +And blazon’d banners toss!’-<br> +<br> +<br> +XXV.<br> +<br> +Dun-Edin’s Cross, a pillar’d stone,<br> +Rose on a turret octagon; +710<br> + (But now is razed that monument,<br> + Whence royal edict rang,<br> + And voice of Scotland’s law was sent<br> + In glorious trumpet-clang.<br> +O! be his tomb as lead to lead, +715<br> +Upon its dull destroyer’s head!-<br> +A minstrel’s malison is said.)-<br> +Then on its battlements they saw<br> +A vision, passing Nature’s law,<br> + Strange, wild, and dimly seen; 720<br> +Figures that seem’d to rise and die,<br> +Gibber and sign, advance and fly,<br> +While nought confirm’d could ear or eye<br> + Discern of sound or mien.<br> +Yet darkly did it seem, as there 725<br> +Heralds and Pursuivants prepare,<br> +With trumpet sound, and blazon fair,<br> + A summons to proclaim;<br> +But indistinct the pageant proud,<br> +As fancy forms of midnight cloud, +730<br> +When flings the moon upon her shroud<br> + A wavering tinge of flame;<br> +It flits, expands, and shifts, till loud,<br> +From midmost of the spectre crowd,<br> + This awful summons came:- 735<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVI.<br> +<br> +‘Prince, prelate, potentate, and peer,<br> + Whose names I now shall call,<br> +Scottish, or foreigner, give ear!<br> +Subjects of him who sent me here,<br> +At his tribunal to appear, 740<br> + I summon one and all:<br> +I cite you by each deadly sin,<br> +That e’er hath soil’d your hearts within;<br> +I cite you by each brutal lust,<br> +That e’er defiled your earthly dust,- +745<br> + By wrath, by pride, by fear,<br> +By each o’er-mastering passion’s tone,<br> +By the dark grave, and dying groan!<br> +When forty days are pass’d and gone,<br> +I cite you at your Monarch’s throne, +750<br> + To answer and appear.’-<br> +Then thundered forth a roll of names:-<br> +The first was thine, unhappy James!<br> + Then all thy nobles came;<br> +Crawford, Glencairn, Montrose, Argyle, 755<br> +Ross, Bothwell, Forbes, Lennox, Lyle,<br> +Why should I tell their separate style?<br> + Each chief of birth and fame,<br> +Of Lowland, Highland, Border, Isle,<br> +Fore-doom’d to Flodden’s carnage pile, + 760<br> + Was cited there by name;<br> +And Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye,<br> +Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye;<br> +De Wilton, erst of Aberley,<br> +The self-same thundering voice did say.- 765<br> + But then another spoke:<br> +‘Thy fatal summons I deny,<br> +And thine infernal Lord defy,<br> +Appealing me to Him on high,<br> + Who burst the sinner’s yoke.’ + 770<br> +At that dread accent, with a scream,<br> +Parted the pageant like a dream,<br> + The summoner was gone.<br> +Prone on her face the Abbess fell,<br> +And fast, and fast, her beads did tell; +775<br> +Her nuns came, startled by the yell,<br> + And found her there alone.<br> +She mark’d not, at the scene aghast,<br> +What time, or how, the Palmer pass’d.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVII.<br> +<br> +Shift we the scene.-The camp doth move, 780<br> + Dun-Edin’s streets are empty now,<br> +Save when, for weal of those they love,<br> + To pray the prayer, and vow the vow,<br> +The tottering child, the anxious fair,<br> +The grey-hair’d sire, with pious care, +785<br> +To chapels and to shrines repair-<br> +Where is the Palmer now? and where<br> +The Abbess, Marmion, and Clare?-<br> +Bold Douglas! to Tantallon fair<br> + They journey in thy charge: +790<br> +Lord Marmion rode on his right hand,<br> +The Palmer still was with the band;<br> +Angus, like Lindesay, did command,<br> + That none should roam at large.<br> +But in that Palmer’s altered mien +795<br> +A wondrous change might now be seen;<br> + Freely he spoke of war,<br> +Of marvels wrought by single hand,<br> +When lifted for a native land;<br> +And still look’d high, as if he plann’d + 800<br> + Some desperate deed afar.<br> +His courser would he feed and stroke,<br> +And, tucking up his sable frocke,<br> +Would first his mettle bold provoke,<br> + Then soothe or quell his pride. +805<br> +Old Hubert said, that never one<br> +He saw, except Lord Marmion,<br> + A steed so fairly ride.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVIII.<br> +<br> +Some half-hour’s march behind, there came,<br> + By Eustace govern’d fair, +810<br> +A troop escorting Hilda’s Dame,<br> + With all her nuns, and Clare.<br> +No audience had Lord Marmion sought;<br> + Ever he fear’d to aggravate<br> + Clara de Clare’s suspicious hate; +815<br> +And safer ‘twas, he thought,<br> + To wait till, from the nuns removed,<br> + The influence of kinsmen loved,<br> +And suit by Henry’s self approved,<br> +Her slow consent had wrought. +820<br> + His was no flickering flame, that dies<br> + Unless when fann’d by looks and sighs,<br> + And lighted oft at lady’s eyes;<br> + He long’d to stretch his wide command<br> + O’er luckless Clara’s ample land: + 825<br> + Besides, when Wilton with him vied,<br> + Although the pang of humbled pride<br> + The place of jealousy supplied,<br> +Yet conquest, by that meanness won<br> +He almost loath’d to think upon, +830<br> +Led him, at times, to hate the cause,<br> +Which made him burst through honour’s laws.<br> +If e’er he loved, ‘twas her alone,<br> +Who died within that vault of stone.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIX.<br> +<br> +And now, when close at hand they saw 835<br> +North Berwick’s town, and lofty Law,<br> +Fitz-Eustace bade them pause a while,<br> +Before a venerable pile,<br> + Whose turrets view’d, afar,<br> +The lofty Bass, the Lambie Isle, 840<br> + The ocean’s peace or war.<br> +At tolling of a bell, forth came<br> +The convent’s venerable Dame,<br> +And pray’d Saint Hilda’s Abbess rest<br> +With her, a loved and honour’d guest, +845<br> +Till Douglas should a bark prepare<br> +To wait her back to Whitby fair.<br> +Glad was the Abbess, you may guess,<br> +And thank’d the Scottish Prioress;<br> +And tedious were to tell, I ween, +850<br> +The courteous speech that pass’d between.<br> + O’erjoy’d the nuns their palfreys leave;<br> +But when fair Clara did intend,<br> +Like them, from horseback to descend,<br> + Fitz-Eustace said,-’I grieve, +855<br> +Fair lady, grieve e’en from my heart,<br> +Such gentle company to part;-<br> + Think not discourtesy,<br> +But lords’ commands must be obey’d;<br> +And Marmion and the Douglas said, +860<br> + That you must wend with me.<br> +Lord Marmion hath a letter broad,<br> +Which to the Scottish Earl he show’d,<br> +Commanding, that, beneath his care,<br> +Without delay, you shall repair +865<br> +To your good kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXX.<br> +<br> +The startled Abbess loud exclaim’d;<br> +But she, at whom the blow was aim’d,<br> +Grew pale as death, and cold as lead,-<br> +She deem’d she heard her death-doom read. +870<br> +‘Cheer thee, my child!’ the Abbess said,<br> +‘They dare not tear thee from my hand,<br> +To ride alone with armed band.’-<br> + ‘Nay, holy mother, nay,’<br> +Fitz-Eustace said, ‘the lovely Clare +875<br> +Will be in Lady Angus’ care,<br> + In Scotland while we stay;<br> +And, when we move, an easy ride<br> +Will bring us to the English side,<br> +Female attendance to provide 880<br> + Befitting Gloster’s heir;<br> +Nor thinks, nor dreams, my noble lord,<br> +By slightest look, or act, or word,<br> + To harass Lady Clare.<br> +Her faithful guardian he will be, +885<br> +Nor sue for slightest courtesy<br> + That e’en to stranger falls,<br> +Till he shall place her, safe and free,<br> + Within her kinsman’s halls.’<br> +He spoke, and blush’d with earnest grace; +890<br> +His faith was painted on his face,<br> + And Clare’s worst fear relieved.<br> +The Lady Abbess loud exclaim’d<br> +On Henry, and the Douglas blamed,<br> + Entreated, threaten’d, grieved; +895<br> +To martyr, saint, and prophet pray’d,<br> +Against Lord Marmion inveigh’d,<br> +And call’d the Prioress to aid,<br> +To curse with candle, bell, and book.<br> +Her head the grave Cistertian shook: 900<br> +‘The Douglas, and the King,’ she said,<br> +‘In their commands will be obey’d;<br> +Grieve not, nor dream that harm can fall<br> +The maiden in Tantallon hall.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXI.<br> +<br> +The Abbess, seeing strife was vain, +905<br> +Assumed her wonted state again,<br> + For much of state she had,-<br> +Composed her veil, and raised her head,<br> +And-‘Bid,’ in solemn voice she said,<br> + ‘Thy master, bold and bad, +910<br> +The records of his house turn o’er,<br> + And, when he shall there written see,<br> + That one of his own ancestry<br> + Drove the monks forth of Coventry,<br> +Bid him his fate explore! +915<br> + Prancing in pride of earthly trust,<br> + His charger hurl’d him to the dust,<br> + And, by a base plebeian thrust,<br> +He died his band before.<br> + God judge ‘twixt Marmion and me; +920<br> + He is a Chief of high degree,<br> +And I a poor recluse;<br> + Yet oft, in holy writ, we see<br> + Even such weak minister as me<br> +May the oppressor bruise: +925<br> + For thus, inspired, did Judith slay<br> + The mighty in his sin,<br> + And Jael thus, and Deborah’-<br> + Here hasty Blount broke in:<br> +‘Fitz-Eustace, we must march our band; +930<br> +Saint Anton’ fire thee! wilt thou stand<br> +All day, with bonnet in thy hand,<br> + To hear the Lady preach?<br> +By this good light! if thus we stay,<br> +Lord Marmion, for our fond delay, +935<br> + Will sharper sermon teach.<br> +Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse;<br> +The Dame must patience take perforce.’-<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXII.<br> +<br> +‘Submit we then to force,’ said Clare,<br> +‘But let this barbarous lord despair +940<br> + His purposed aim to win;<br> +Let him take living, land, and life;<br> +But to be Marmion’s wedded wife<br> + In me were deadly sin:<br> +And if it be the King’s decree, +945<br> +That I must find no sanctuary,<br> +In that inviolable dome,<br> +Where even a homicide might come,<br> + And safely rest his head,<br> +Though at its open portals stood, +950<br> +Thirsting to pour forth blood for blood,<br> + The kinsmen of the dead;<br> +Yet one asylum is my own<br> + Against the dreaded hour;<br> +A low, a silent, and a lone, 955<br> + Where kings have little power.<br> +One victim is before me there.-<br> +Mother, your blessing, and in prayer<br> +Remember your unhappy Clare!’<br> +Loud weeps the Abbess, and bestows 960<br> + Kind blessings many a one:<br> +Weeping and wailing loud arose,<br> +Round patient Clare, the clamorous woes<br> + Of every simple nun.<br> +His eyes the gentle Eustace dried, 965<br> +And scarce rude Blount the sight could bide.<br> + Then took the squire her rein,<br> +And gently led away her steed,<br> +And, by each courteous word and deed,<br> + To cheer her strove in vain. 970<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXIII.<br> +<br> +But scant three miles the band had rode,<br> + When o’er a height they pass’d,<br> +And, sudden, close before them show’d<br> + His towers, Tantallon vast;<br> +Broad, massive, high, and stretching far, +975<br> +And held impregnable in war.<br> +On a projecting rock they rose,<br> +And round three sides the ocean flows,<br> +The fourth did battled walls enclose,<br> + And double mound and fosse. +980<br> +By narrow drawbridge, outworks strong,<br> +Through studded gates, an entrance long,<br> + To the main court they cross.<br> +It was a wide and stately square:<br> +Around were lodgings, fit and fair, +985<br> + And towers of various form,<br> +Which on the court projected far,<br> +And broke its lines quadrangular.<br> +Here was square keep, there turret high,<br> +Or pinnacle that sought the sky, 990<br> +Whence oft the Warder could descry<br> + The gathering ocean-storm.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXIV.<br> +<br> +Here did they rest.-The princely care<br> +Of Douglas, why should I declare,<br> +Or say they met reception fair? +995<br> + Or why the tidings say,<br> +Which, varying, to Tantallon came,<br> +By hurrying posts, or fleeter fame,<br> + With every varying day?<br> +And, first, they heard King James had won 1000<br> + Etall, and Wark, and Ford; and then,<br> + That Norham Castle strong was ta’en.<br> +At that sore marvell’d Marmion;-<br> +And Douglas hoped his Monarch’s hand<br> +Would soon subdue Northumberland: 1005<br> + But whisper’d news there came,<br> +That, while his host inactive lay,<br> +And melted by degrees away,<br> +King James was dallying off the day<br> + With Heron’s wily dame.- +1010<br> +Such acts to chronicles I yield;<br> + Go seek them there, and see:<br> +Mine is a tale of Flodden Field,<br> + And not a history.-<br> +At length they heard the Scottish host +1015<br> +On that high ridge had made their post,<br> + Which frowns o’er Millfield Plain;<br> +And that brave Surrey many a band<br> +Had gather’d in the Southern land,<br> +And march’d into Northumberland, +1020<br> + And camp at Wooler ta’en.<br> +Marmion, like charger in the stall,<br> +That hears, without, the trumpet-call,<br> + Began to chafe, and swear:-<br> +‘A sorry thing to hide my head +1025<br> +In castle, like a fearful maid,<br> + When such a field is near!<br> +Needs must I see this battle-day:<br> +Death to my fame if such a fray<br> +Were fought, and Marmion away! +1030<br> +The Douglas, too, I wot not why,<br> +Hath ‘bated of his courtesy:<br> +No longer in his halls I’ll stay.’<br> +Then bade his band they should array<br> +For march against the dawning day. +1035<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH</b>.<br> +<br> +<i>TO RICHARD HEBER, ESQ.<br> +<br> +Mertoun-House, Christmas</i>.<br> +<br> +Heap on more wood!-the wind is chill;<br> +But let it whistle as it will,<br> +We’ll keep our Christmas merry still.<br> +Each age has deem’d the new-born year<br> +The fittest time for festal cheer: 5<br> +Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane<br> +At Iol more deep the mead did drain;<br> +High on the beach his galleys drew,<br> +And feasted all his pirate crew;<br> +Then in his low and pine-built hall, +10<br> +Where shields and axes deck’d the wall,<br> +They gorged upon the half-dress’d steer;<br> +Caroused in seas of sable beer;<br> +While round, in brutal jest, were thrown<br> +The half-gnaw’d rib, and marrow-bone, +15<br> +Or listen’d all, in grim delight,<br> +While scalds yell’d out the joys of fight.<br> +Then forth, in frenzy, would they hie,<br> +While wildly-loose their red locks fly,<br> +And dancing round the blazing pile, 20<br> +They make such barbarous mirth the while,<br> +As best might to the mind recall<br> +The boisterous joys of Odin’s hall.<br> +<br> + And well our Christian sires of old<br> +Loved when the year its course had roll’d, +25<br> +And brought blithe Christmas back again,<br> +With all his hospitable train.<br> +Domestic and religious rite<br> +Gave honour to the holy night;<br> +On Christmas eve the bells were rung; 30<br> +On Christmas eve the mass was sung:<br> +That only night in all the year,<br> +Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.<br> +The damsel donn’d her kirtle sheen;<br> +The hall was dress’d with holly green; +35<br> +Forth to the wood did merry-men go,<br> +To gather in the mistletoe.<br> +Then open’d wide the Baron’s hall<br> +To vassal, tenant, serf, and all;<br> +Power laid his rod of rule aside, 40<br> +And Ceremony doff’d his pride.<br> +The heir, with roses in his shoes,<br> +That night might village partner choose;<br> +The Lord, underogating, share<br> +The vulgar game of ‘post and pair.’ + 45<br> +All hail’d, with uncontroll’d delight,<br> +And general voice, the happy night,<br> +That to the cottage, as the crown,<br> +Brought tidings of salvation down.<br> +<br> + The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, +50<br> +Went roaring up the chimney wide:<br> +The huge hall-table’s oaken face,<br> +Scrubb’d till it shone, the day to grace,<br> +Bore then upon its massive board<br> +No mark to part the squire and lord. +55<br> +Then was brought in the lusty brawn,<br> +By old blue-coated serving-man;<br> +Then the grim boar’s head frown’d on high,<br> +Crested with bays and rosemary.<br> +Well can the green-garb’d ranger tell, +60<br> +How, when, and where, the monster fell;<br> +What dogs before his death he tore,<br> +And all the baiting of the boar.<br> +The wassel round, in good brown bowls,<br> +Garnish’d with ribbons, blithely trowls. +65<br> +There the huge sirloin reek’d; hard by<br> +Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie:<br> +Nor fail’d old Scotland to produce,<br> +At such high tide, her savoury goose.<br> +Then came the merry maskers in, 70<br> +And carols roar’d with blithesome din;<br> +If unmelodious was the song,<br> +It was a hearty note, and strong.<br> +Who lists may in their mumming see<br> +Traces of ancient mystery; +75<br> +White shirts supplied the masquerade,<br> +And smutted cheeks the visors made;<br> +But, O! what maskers, richly dight,<br> +Can boast of bosoms half so light!<br> +England was merry England, when 80<br> +Old Christmas brought his sports again.<br> +‘Twas Christmas broach’d the mightiest ale;<br> +‘Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;<br> +A Christmas gambol oft could cheer<br> +The poor man’s heart through half the year. +85<br> +<br> + Still linger, in our northern clime,<br> +Some remnants of the good old time;<br> +And still, within our valleys here,<br> +We hold the kindred title dear,<br> +Even when, perchance, its far-fetch’d claim +90<br> +To Southron ear sounds empty name;<br> +For course of blood, our proverbs deem,<br> +Is warmer than the mountain-stream.<br> +And thus, my Christmas still I hold<br> +Where my great-grandsire came of old, 95<br> +With amber beard, and flaxen hair,<br> +And reverend apostolic air-<br> +The feast and holy-tide to share,<br> +And mix sobriety with wine,<br> +And honest mirth with thoughts divine: 100<br> +Small thought was his, in after time<br> +E’er to be hitch’d into a rhyme.<br> +The simple sire could only boast,<br> +That he was loyal to his cost;<br> +The banish’d race of kings revered, +105<br> +And lost his land,-but kept his beard.<br> +<br> +In these dear halls, where welcome kind<br> +Is with fair liberty combined;<br> +Where cordial friendship gives the hand,<br> +And flies constraint the magic wand +110<br> +Of the fair dame that rules the land.<br> +Little we heed the tempest drear,<br> +While music, mirth, and social cheer,<br> +Speed on their wings the passing year.<br> +And Mertoun’s halls are fair e’en now, + 115<br> +When not a leaf is on the bough.<br> +Tweed loves them well, and turns again,<br> +As loth to leave the sweet domain,<br> +And holds his mirror to her face,<br> +And clips her with a close embrace:- 120<br> +Gladly as he, we seek the dome,<br> +And as reluctant turn us home.<br> +<br> +How just that, at this time of glee,<br> +My thoughts should, Heber, turn to thee!<br> +For many a merry hour we’ve known, +125<br> +And heard the chimes of midnight’s tone.<br> +Cease, then, my friend! a moment cease,<br> +And leave these classic tomes in peace!<br> +Of Roman and of Grecian lore,<br> +Sure mortal brain can hold no more. +130<br> +These ancients, as Noll Bluff might say,<br> +‘Were pretty fellows in their day;’<br> +But time and tide o’er all prevail-<br> +On Christmas eve a Christmas tale-<br> +Of wonder and of war-‘Profane! +135<br> +What! leave the lofty Latian strain,<br> +Her stately prose, her verse’s charms,<br> +To hear the clash of rusty arms:<br> +In Fairy Land or Limbo lost,<br> +To jostle conjurer and ghost, +140<br> +Goblin and witch!’-Nay, Heber dear,<br> +Before you touch my charter, hear;<br> +Though Leyden aids, alas! no more,<br> +My cause with many-languaged lore,<br> +This may I say:-in realms of death 145<br> +Ulysses meets Alcides’ <i>wraith</i>;<br> +Aeneas, upon Thracia’s shore,<br> +The ghost of murder’d Polydore;<br> +For omens, we in Livy cross,<br> +At every turn, <i>locutus Bos</i>. +150<br> +As grave and duly speaks that ox,<br> +As if he told the price of stocks;<br> +Or held, in Rome republican,<br> +The place of Common-councilman.<br> +<br> + All nations have their omens drear, +155<br> +Their legends wild of woe and fear.<br> +To Cambria look-the peasant see,<br> +Bethink him of Glendowerdy,<br> +And shun ‘the Spirit’s Blasted Tree.’<br> +The Highlander, whose red claymore 160<br> +The battle turn’d on Maida’s shore,<br> +Will, on a Friday morn, look pale,<br> +If ask’d to tell a fairy tale:<br> +He fears the vengeful Elfin King,<br> +Who leaves that day his grassy ring: 165<br> +Invisible to human ken,<br> +He walks among the sons of men.<br> +<br> + Did’st e’er, dear Heber, pass along<br> +Beneath the towers of Franchemont,<br> +Which, like an eagle’s nest in air, +170<br> +Hang o’er the stream and hamlet fair?<br> +Deep in their vaults, the peasants say,<br> +A mighty treasure buried lay,<br> +Amass’d through rapine and through wrong<br> +By the last Lord of Franchemont. 175<br> +The iron chest is bolted hard,<br> +A Huntsman sits, its constant guard;<br> +Around his neck his horn is hung,<br> +His hanger in his belt is slung;<br> +Before his feet his blood-hounds lie: +180<br> +An ‘twere not for his gloomy eye,<br> +Whose withering glance no heart can brook,<br> +As true a huntsman doth he look,<br> +As bugle e’er in brake did sound,<br> +Or ever hollow’d to a hound. +185<br> +To chase the fiend, and win the prize,<br> +In that same dungeon ever tries<br> +An aged Necromantic Priest;<br> +It is an hundred years at least,<br> +Since ‘twixt them first the strife begun, +190<br> +And neither yet has lost nor won.<br> +And oft the Conjurer’s words will make<br> +The stubborn Demon groan and quake;<br> +And oft the bands of iron break,<br> +Or bursts one lock, that still amain, +195<br> +Fast as ‘tis open’d, shuts again.<br> +That magic strife within the tomb<br> +May last until the day of doom,<br> +Unless the Adept shall learn to tell<br> +The very word that clench’d the spell, +200<br> +When Franch’mont lock’d the treasure cell.<br> +An hundred years are pass’d and gone,<br> +And scarce three letters has he won.<br> +<br> + Such general superstition may<br> +Excuse for old Pitscottie say; 205<br> +Whose gossip history has given<br> +My song the messenger from Heaven,<br> +That warn’d, in Lithgow, Scotland’s King,<br> +Nor less the infernal summoning;<br> +May pass the Monk of Durham’s tale, +210<br> +Whose Demon fought in Gothic mail;<br> +May pardon plead for Fordun grave,<br> +Who told of Gifford’s Goblin-Cave.<br> +But why such instances to you,<br> +Who, in an instant, can renew +215<br> +Your treasured hoards of various lore,<br> +And furnish twenty thousand more?<br> +Hoards, not like theirs whose volumes rest<br> +Like treasures in the Franch’mont chest,<br> +While gripple owners still refuse +220<br> +To others what they cannot use;<br> +Give them the priest’s whole century,<br> +They shall not spell you letters three;<br> +Their pleasure in the books the same<br> +The magpie takes in pilfer’d gem. +225<br> +Thy volumes, open as thy heart,<br> +Delight, amusement, science, art,<br> +To every ear and eye impart;<br> +Yet who, of all who thus employ them,<br> +Can like the owner’s self enjoy them?- +230<br> +But, hark! I hear the distant drum!<br> +The day of Flodden Field is come.-<br> +Adieu, dear Heber! life and health,<br> +And store of literary wealth.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO SIXTH</b>.<br> +<br> +THE BATTLE.<br> +<br> +<br> +While great events were on the gale,<br> +And each hour brought a varying tale,<br> +And the demeanour, changed and cold,<br> +Of Douglas, fretted Marmion bold,<br> +And, like the impatient steed of war, +5<br> +He snuff’d the battle from afar;<br> +And hopes were none, that back again<br> +Herald should come from Terouenne,<br> +Where England’s King in leaguer lay,<br> +Before decisive battle-day; 10<br> +Whilst these things were, the mournful Clare<br> +Did in the Dame’s devotions share:<br> +For the good Countess ceaseless pray’d<br> +To Heaven and Saints, her sons to aid.<br> +And, with short interval, did pass +15<br> +From prayer to book, from book to mass,<br> +And all in high Baronial pride,-<br> +A life both dull and dignified;-<br> +Yet as Lord Marmion nothing press’d<br> +Upon her intervals of rest, 20<br> +Dejected Clara well could bear<br> +The formal state, the lengthen’d prayer,<br> +Though dearest to her wounded heart<br> +The hours that she might spend apart.<br> +<br> +<br> +II.<br> +<br> +I said, Tantallon’s dizzy steep +25<br> +Hung o’er the margin of the deep.<br> +Many a rude tower and rampart there<br> +Repell’d the insult of the air,<br> +Which, when the tempest vex’d the sky,<br> +Half breeze, half spray, came whistling by. 30<br> +Above the rest, a turret square<br> +Did o’er its Gothic entrance bear,<br> +Of sculpture rude, a stony shield;<br> +The Bloody Heart was in the Field,<br> +And in the chief three mullets stood, 35<br> +The cognizance of Douglas blood.<br> +The turret held a narrow stair,<br> +Which, mounted, gave you access where<br> +A parapet’s embattled row<br> +Did seaward round the castle go. +40<br> +Sometimes in dizzy steps descending,<br> +Sometimes in narrow circuit bending,<br> +Sometimes in platform broad extending,<br> +Its varying circle did combine<br> +Bulwark, and bartisan, and line, +45<br> +And bastion, tower, and vantage-coign:<br> +Above the booming ocean leant<br> +The far-projecting battlement;<br> +The billows burst, in ceaseless flow,<br> +Upon the precipice below. 50<br> +Where’er Tantallon faced the land,<br> +Gate-works, and walls, were strongly mann’d;<br> +No need upon the sea-girt side;<br> +The steepy rock, and frantic tide,<br> +Approach of human step denied; +55<br> +And thus these lines, and ramparts rude,<br> +Were left in deepest solitude.<br> +<br> +<br> +III.<br> +<br> +And, for they were so lonely, Clare<br> +Would to these battlements repair,<br> +And muse upon her sorrows there, +60<br> + And list the sea-bird’s cry;<br> +Or slow, like noontide ghost, would glide<br> +Along the dark-grey bulwarks’ side,<br> +And ever on the heaving tide<br> + Look down with weary eye. 65<br> +Oft did the cliff, and swelling main,<br> +Recall the thoughts of Whitby’s fane,--<br> +A home she ne’er might see again;<br> + For she had laid adown,<br> +So Douglas bade, the hood and veil, 70<br> +And frontlet of the cloister pale,<br> + And Benedictine gown:<br> +It were unseemly sight, he said,<br> +A novice out of convent shade.-<br> +Now her bright locks, with sunny glow, +75<br> +Again adorn’d her brow of snow;<br> +Her mantle rich, whose borders, round,<br> +A deep and fretted broidery bound,<br> +In golden foldings sought the ground;<br> +Of holy ornament, alone 80<br> +Remain’d a cross with ruby stone;<br> + And often did she look<br> +On that which in her hand she bore,<br> +With velvet bound, and broider’d o’er,<br> + Her breviary book. +85<br> +In such a place, so lone, so grim,<br> +At dawning pale, or twilight dim,<br> + It fearful would have been<br> +To meet a form so richly dress’d,<br> +With book in hand, and cross on breast, 90<br> + And such a woeful mien.<br> +Fitz-Eustace, loitering with his bow,<br> +To practise on the gull and crow,<br> +Saw her, at distance, gliding slow,<br> + And did by Mary swear,- 95<br> +Some love-lorn Fay she might have been,<br> +Or, in Romance, some spell-bound Queen;<br> +For ne’er, in work-day world, was seen<br> +A form so witching fair.<br> +<br> +<br> +IV.<br> +<br> +Once walking thus, at evening tide, +100<br> +It chanced a gliding sail she spied,<br> +And, sighing, thought-‘The Abbess, there,<br> +Perchance, does to her home repair;<br> +Her peaceful rule, where Duty, free,<br> +Walks hand in hand with Charity; 105<br> +Where oft Devotion’s tranced glow<br> +Can such a glimpse of heaven bestow,<br> +That the enraptured sisters see<br> +High vision, and deep mystery;<br> +The very form of Hilda fair, 110<br> +Hovering upon the sunny air,<br> +And smiling on her votaries’ prayer.<br> +O! wherefore, to my duller eye,<br> +Did still the Saint her form deny!<br> +Was it, that, sear’d by sinful scorn, +115<br> +My heart could neither melt nor burn?<br> +Or lie my warm affections low,<br> +With him, that taught them first to glow?<br> +Yet, gentle Abbess, well I knew,<br> +To pay thy kindness grateful due, +120<br> +And well could brook the mild command,<br> +That ruled thy simple maiden band.<br> +How different now! condemn’d to bide<br> +My doom from this dark tyrant’s pride.-<br> +But Marmion has to learn, ere long, +125<br> +That constant mind, and hate of wrong,<br> +Descended to a feeble girl,<br> +From Red De Clare, stout Gloster’s Earl:<br> +Of such a stem, a sapling weak,<br> +He ne’er shall bend, although he break. +130<br> +<br> +<br> +V.<br> +<br> +‘But see!-what makes this armour here?’-<br> + For in her path there lay<br> +Targe, corslet, helm;-she view’d them near.-<br> +‘The breast-plate pierced!-Ay, much I fear,<br> +Weak fence wert thou ‘gainst foeman’s spear, + 135<br> +That hath made fatal entrance here,<br> + As these dark blood-gouts say.-<br> +Thus Wilton!-Oh! not corslet’s ward,<br> +Not truth, as diamond pure and hard,<br> +Could be thy manly bosom’s guard, +140<br> + On yon disastrous day!’-<br> +She raised her eyes in mournful mood,-<br> +WILTON himself before her stood!<br> +It might have seem’d his passing ghost,<br> +For every youthful grace was lost; 145<br> +And joy unwonted, and surprise,<br> +Gave their strange wildness to his eyes.-<br> +Expect not, noble dames and lords,<br> +That I can tell such scene in words:<br> +What skilful limner e’er would choose +150<br> +To paint the rainbow’s varying hues,<br> +Unless to mortal it were given<br> +To dip his brush in dyes of heaven?<br> +Far less can my weak line declare<br> + Each changing passion’s shade; +155<br> +Brightening to rapture from despair,<br> +Sorrow, surprise, and pity there,<br> +And joy, with her angelic air,<br> +And hope, that paints the future fair,<br> + Their varying hues display’d: +160<br> +Each o’er its rival’s ground extending,<br> +Alternate conquering, shifting, blending,<br> +Till all, fatigued, the conflict yield,<br> +And mighty Love retains the field,<br> +Shortly I tell what then he said, +165<br> +By many a tender word delay’d,<br> +And modest blush, and bursting sigh,<br> +And question kind, and fond reply:-<br> +<br> +<br> +VI.<br> +<br> +De Wilton’s History.<br> +<br> +‘Forget we that disastrous day,<br> +When senseless in the lists I lay. 170<br> + Thence dragg’d,-but how I cannot know,<br> + For sense and recollection fled,<br> + I found me on a pallet low,<br> + Within my ancient beadsman’s shed.<br> +Austin,-remember’st thou, my Clare, +175<br> +How thou didst blush, when the old man,<br> +When first our infant love began,<br> + Said we would make a matchless pair?-<br> +Menials, and friends, and kinsmen fled<br> +From the degraded traitor’s bed,- +180<br> +He only held my burning head,<br> +And tended me for many a day,<br> +While wounds and fever held their sway.<br> +But far more needful was his care,<br> +When sense return’d to wake despair; +185<br> + For I did tear the closing wound,<br> + And dash me frantic on the ground,<br> +If e’er I heard the name of Clare.<br> +At length, to calmer reason brought,<br> +Much by his kind attendance wrought, 190<br> + With him I left my native strand,<br> +And, in a Palmer’s weeds array’d<br> +My hated name and form to shade,<br> + I journey’d many a land;<br> +No more a lord of rank and birth, +195<br> +But mingled with the dregs of earth.<br> + Oft Austin for my reason fear’d,<br> +When I would sit, and deeply brood<br> +On dark revenge, and deeds of blood,<br> + Or wild mad schemes uprear’d. +200<br> +My friend at length fell sick, and said,<br> + God would remove him soon:<br> +And, while upon his dying bed,<br> +He begg’d of me a boon-<br> +If e’er my deadliest enemy +205<br> +Beneath my brand should conquer’d lie,<br> +Even then my mercy should awake,<br> +And spare his life for Austin’s sake.<br> +<br> +<br> +VII.<br> +<br> +‘Still restless as a second Cain,<br> +To Scotland next my route was ta’en, +210<br> + Full well the paths I knew.<br> +Fame of my fate made various sound,<br> +That death in pilgrimage I found,<br> +That I had perish’d of my wound,-<br> + None cared which tale was true: +215<br> +And living eye could never guess<br> +De Wilton in his Palmer’s dress;<br> +For now that sable slough is shed,<br> +And trimm’d my shaggy beard and head,<br> +I scarcely know me in the glass. 220<br> +A chance most wondrous did provide,<br> +That I should be that Baron’s guide-<br> + I will not name his name!-<br> +Vengeance to God alone belongs;<br> +But, when I think on all my wrongs, +225<br> + My blood is liquid flame!<br> +And ne’er the time shall I forget,<br> +When in a Scottish hostel set,<br> + Dark looks we did exchange:<br> +What were his thoughts I cannot tell; +230<br> +But in my bosom muster’d Hell<br> +Its plans of dark revenge.<br> +<br> +<br> +VIII.<br> +<br> +‘A word of vulgar augury,<br> +That broke from me, I scarce knew why,<br> + Brought on a village tale; 235<br> +Which wrought upon his moody sprite,<br> +And sent him armed forth by night.<br> +I borrow’d steed and mail,<br> +And weapons, from his sleeping band;<br> + And, passing from a postern door, +240<br> +We met, and ‘counter’d, hand to hand,-<br> + He fell on Gifford-moor.<br> +For the death-stroke my brand I drew,<br> +(O then my helmed head he knew,<br> + The Palmer’s cowl was gone,) +245<br> +Then had three inches of my blade<br> +The heavy debt of vengeance paid,-<br> +My hand the thought of Austin staid;<br> + I left him there alone.-<br> +O good old man! even from the grave, 250<br> +Thy spirit could thy master save:<br> +If I had slain my foeman, ne’er<br> +Had Whitby’s Abbess, in her fear,<br> +Given to my hand this packet dear,<br> +Of power to clear my injured fame, 255<br> +And vindicate De Wilton’s name.-<br> +Perchance you heard the Abbess tell<br> +Of the strange pageantry of Hell,<br> + That broke our secret speech-<br> +It rose from the infernal shade, 260<br> +Or featly was some juggle play’d,<br> + A tale of peace to teach.<br> +Appeal to Heaven I judged was best,<br> +When my name came among the rest.<br> +<br> +<br> +IX.<br> +<br> +‘Now here, within Tantallon Hold, +265<br> +To Douglas late my tale I told,<br> +To whom my house was known of old.<br> +Won by my proofs, his falchion bright<br> +This eve anew shall dub me knight.<br> +These were the arms that once did turn 270<br> +The tide of fight on Otterburne,<br> +And Harry Hotspur forced to yield,<br> +When the Dead Douglas won the field.<br> +These Angus gave-his armourer’s care,<br> +Ere morn, shall every breach repair; 275<br> +For nought, he said, was in his halls,<br> +But ancient armour on the walls,<br> +And aged chargers in the stalls,<br> +And women, priests, and grey-hair’d men;<br> +The rest were all in Twisel glen. +280<br> +And now I watch my armour here,<br> +By law of arms, till midnight’s near;<br> +Then, once again a belted knight,<br> +Seek Surrey’s camp with dawn of light.<br> +<br> +<br> +X.<br> +<br> +‘There soon again we meet, my Clare! +285<br> +This Baron means to guide thee there:<br> +Douglas reveres his King’s command,<br> +Else would he take thee from his band.<br> +And there thy kinsman, Surrey, too,<br> +Will give De Wilton justice due. 290<br> +Now meeter far for martial broil,<br> +Firmer my limbs, and strung by toil,<br> +Once more’-‘O Wilton! must we then<br> +Risk new-found happiness again,<br> + Trust fate of arms once more? +295<br> +And is there not an humble glen,<br> + Where we, content and poor,<br> +Might build a cottage in the shade,<br> +A shepherd thou, and I to aid<br> + Thy task on dale and moor?- 300<br> +That reddening brow!-too well I know,<br> +Not even thy Clare can peace bestow,<br> + While falsehood stains thy name:<br> +Go then to fight! Clare bids thee go!<br> +Clare can a warrior’s feelings know, +305<br> + And weep a warrior’s shame;<br> +Can Red Earl Gilbert’s spirit feel,<br> +Buckle the spurs upon thy heel,<br> +And belt thee with thy brand of steel,<br> + And send thee forth to fame!’ +310<br> +<br> +<br> +XI.<br> +<br> +That night, upon the rocks and bay,<br> +The midnight moon-beam slumbering lay,<br> +And pour’d its silver light, and pure,<br> +Through loop-hole, and through embrazure,<br> + Upon Tantallon tower and hall; 315<br> +But chief where arched windows wide<br> +Illuminate the chapel’s pride,<br> + The sober glances fall.<br> +Much was there need; though seam’d with scars,<br> +Two veterans of the Douglas’ wars, +320<br> + Though two grey priests were there,<br> +And each a blazing torch held high,<br> +You could not by their blaze descry<br> + The chapel’s carving fair.<br> +Amid that dim and smoky light, 325<br> +Chequering the silvery moon-shine bright,<br> + A bishop by the altar stood,<br> + A noble lord of Douglas blood,<br> +With mitre sheen, and rocquet white.<br> +Yet show’d his meek and thoughtful eye +330<br> +But little pride of prelacy;<br> +More pleased that, in a barbarous age,<br> +He gave rude Scotland Virgil’s page,<br> +Than that beneath his rule he held<br> +The bishopric of fair Dunkeld. 335<br> +Beside him ancient Angus stood,<br> +Doff’d his furr’d gown, and sable hood:<br> +O’er his huge form and visage pale,<br> +He wore a cap and shirt of mail;<br> +And lean’d his large and wrinkled hand +340<br> +Upon the huge and sweeping brand<br> +Which wont of yore, in battle fray,<br> +His foeman’s limbs to shred away,<br> +As wood-knife lops the sapling spray.<br> + He seem’d as, from the tombs around +345<br> + Rising at judgment-day,<br> + Some giant Douglas may be found<br> + In all his old array;<br> +So pale his face, so huge his limb,<br> +So old his arms, his look so grim. 350<br> +<br> +<br> +XII.<br> +<br> +Then at the altar Wilton kneels,<br> +And Clare the spurs bound on his heels;<br> +And think what next he must have felt,<br> +At buckling of the falchion belt!<br> + And judge how Clara changed her hue, 355<br> +While fastening to her lover’s side<br> +A friend, which, though in danger tried,<br> + He once had found untrue!<br> +Then Douglas struck him with his blade:<br> +‘Saint Michael and Saint Andrew aid, +360<br> + I dub thee knight.<br> +Arise, Sir Ralph, De Wilton’s heir!<br> +For King, for Church, for Lady fair,<br> + See that thou fight.’-<br> +And Bishop Gawain, as he rose, 365<br> +Said-‘Wilton! grieve not for thy woes,<br> + Disgrace, and trouble;<br> +For He, who honour best bestows,<br> + May give thee double.’-<br> +De Wilton sobb’d, for sob he must- +370<br> +‘Where’er I meet a Douglas, trust<br> + That Douglas is my brother!’<br> +‘Nay, nay,’ old Angus said, ‘not so;<br> +To Surrey’s camp thou now must go,<br> + Thy wrongs no longer smother. +375<br> +I have two sons in yonder field;<br> +And, if thou meet’st them under shield,<br> +Upon them bravely-do thy worst;<br> +And foul fall him that blenches first!’<br> +<br> +<br> +XIII.<br> +<br> +Not far advanced was morning day, +380<br> +When Marmion did his troop array<br> +To Surrey’s camp to ride;<br> +He had safe-conduct for his band,<br> +Beneath the royal seal and hand,<br> + And Douglas gave a guide: +385<br> +The ancient Earl, with stately grace,<br> +Would Clara on her palfrey place,<br> +And whisper’d in an under tone,<br> +‘Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown.’-<br> +The train from out the castle drew, +390<br> +But Marmion stopp’d to bid adieu:<br> + ‘Though something I might plain,’ he said,<br> +‘Of cold respect to stranger guest,<br> +Sent hither by your King’s behest,<br> + While in Tantallon’s towers I staid; +395<br> +Part we in friendship from your land,<br> +And, noble Earl, receive my hand.’-<br> +But Douglas round him drew his cloak,<br> +Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:-<br> +‘My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still +400<br> +Be open, at my Sovereign’s will,<br> +To each one whom he lists, howe’er<br> +Unmeet to be the owner’s peer.<br> +My castles are my King’s alone,<br> +From turret to foundation-stone- 405<br> +The hand of Douglas is his own;<br> +And never shall in friendly grasp<br> +The hand of such as Marmion clasp.’-<br> +<br> +<br> +XIV.<br> +<br> +Burn’d Marmion’s swarthy cheek like fire,<br> +And shook his very frame for ire, +410<br> + And-‘This to me!’ he said,<br> +‘An ‘twere not for thy hoary beard,<br> +Such hand as Marmion’s had not spared<br> +‘To cleave the Douglas’ head!<br> +And, first, I tell thee, haughty Peer, 415<br> +He, who does England’s message here,<br> +Although the meanest in her state,<br> +May well, proud Angus, be thy mate:<br> +And, Douglas, more I tell thee here,<br> + Even in thy pitch of pride, +420<br> +Here in thy hold, thy vassals near,<br> +(Nay, never look upon your lord,<br> +And lay your hands upon your sword,)<br> + I tell thee, thou’rt defied!<br> +And if thou said’st, I am not peer +425<br> +To any lord in Scotland here,<br> +Lowland or Highland, far or near,<br> + Lord Angus, thou hast lied!’-<br> +On the Earl’s cheek the flush of rage<br> +O’ercame the ashen hue of age: +430<br> +Fierce he broke forth,-‘And darest thou then<br> +To beard the lion in his den,<br> + The Douglas in his hall?<br> +And hopest thou hence unscathed to go?-<br> +No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no! +435<br> +Up drawbridge, grooms-what, Warder, ho!<br> + Let the portcullis fall.’-<br> +Lord Marmion turn’d,-well was his need,<br> +And dash’d the rowels in his steed,<br> +Like arrow through the archway sprung, 440<br> +The ponderous grate behind him rung:<br> +To pass there was such scanty room,<br> +The bars, descending, razed his plume.<br> +<br> +<br> +XV.<br> +<br> +The steed along the drawbridge flies,<br> +Just as it trembled on the rise; 445<br> +Nor lighter does the swallow skim<br> +Along the smooth lake’s level brim:<br> +And when Lord Marmion reach’d his band,<br> +He halts, and turns with clenched hand,<br> +And shout of loud defiance pours, +450<br> +And shook his gauntlet at the towers.<br> +‘Horse! horse!’ the Douglas cried, ‘and +chase!’<br> +But soon he rein’d his fury’s pace:<br> +‘A royal messenger he came,<br> +Though most unworthy of the name.- 455<br> +A letter forged! Saint Jude to speed!<br> +Did ever knight so foul a deed!<br> +At first in heart it liked me ill,<br> +When the King praised his clerkly skill.<br> +Thanks to Saint Bothan, son of mine, 460<br> +Save Gawain, ne’er could pen a line:<br> +So swore I, and I swear it still,<br> +Let my boy-bishop fret his fill.-<br> +Saint Mary mend my fiery mood!<br> +Old age ne’er cools the Douglas blood, +465<br> +I thought to slay him where he stood.<br> +‘Tis pity of him too,’ he cried;<br> +‘Bold can he speak, and fairly ride,<br> +I warrant him a warrior tried.’<br> +With this his mandate he recalls, +470<br> +And slowly seeks his castle halls.<br> +<br> +<br> +XVI.<br> +<br> +The day in Marmion’s journey wore;<br> +Yet, e’er his passion’s gust was o’er,<br> +They cross’d the heights of Stanrig-moor.<br> +His troop more closely there he scann’d, +475<br> +And miss’d the Palmer from the band.-<br> +‘Palmer or not,’ young Blount did say,<br> +‘ He parted at the peep of day;<br> +Good sooth, it was in strange array.’-<br> +‘In what array?’ said Marmion, quick. + 480<br> +‘My Lord, I ill can spell the trick;<br> +But all night long, with clink and bang,<br> +Close to my couch did hammers clang;<br> +At dawn the falling drawbridge rang,<br> +And from a loop-hole while I peep, 485<br> +Old Bell-the-Cat came from the Keep,<br> +Wrapp’d in a gown of sables fair,<br> +As fearful of the morning air;<br> +Beneath, when that was blown aside,<br> +A rusty shirt of mail I spied, 490<br> +By Archibald won in bloody work,<br> +Against the Saracen and Turk:<br> +Last night it hung not in the hall;<br> +I thought some marvel would befall.<br> +And next I saw them saddled lead 495<br> +Old Cheviot forth, the Earl’s best steed;<br> +A matchless horse, though something old,<br> +Prompt to his paces, cool and bold.<br> +I heard the Sheriff Sholto say,<br> +The Earl did much the Master pray +500<br> +To use him on the battle-day;<br> +But he preferr’d’-’Nay, Henry, cease!<br> +Thou sworn horse-courser, hold thy peace.-<br> +Eustace, thou bear’st a brain-I pray,<br> +What did Blount see at break of day?’ +505<br> +<br> +<br> +XVII.<br> +<br> +‘In brief, my lord, we both descried<br> +(For then I stood by Henry’s side)<br> +The Palmer mount, and outwards ride,<br> + Upon the Earl’s own favourite steed:<br> +All sheathed he was in armour bright, +510<br> +And much resembled that same knight,<br> +Subdued by you in Cotswold fight:<br> + Lord Angus wish’d him speed.’-<br> +The instant that Fitz-Eustace spoke,<br> +A sudden light on Marmion broke;- 515<br> +‘Ah! dastard fool, to reason lost!’<br> +He mutter’d; ‘Twas nor fay nor ghost<br> +I met upon the moonlight wold,<br> +But living man of earthly mould.-<br> + O dotage blind and gross! +520<br> +Had I but fought as wont, one thrust<br> +Had laid De Wilton in the dust,<br> + My path no more to cross.-<br> +How stand we now?-he told his tale<br> +To Douglas; and with some avail; 525<br> + ‘Twas therefore gloom’d his rugged brow.-<br> +Will Surrey dare to entertain,<br> +‘Gainst Marmion, charge disproved and vain?<br> +Small risk of that, I trow.<br> +Yet Clare’s sharp questions must I shun; +330<br> +Must separate Constance from the Nun-<br> +O, what a tangled web we weave,<br> +When first we practise to deceive!<br> +A Palmer too!-no wonder why<br> +I felt rebuked beneath his eye: +535<br> +I might have known there was but one,<br> +Whose look could quell Lord Marmion.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XVIII.<br> +<br> +Stung with these thoughts, he urged to speed<br> +His troop, and reach’d, at eve, the Tweed,<br> +Where Lennel’s convent closed their march; +540<br> +(There now is left but one frail arch,<br> + Yet mourn thou not its cells;<br> +Our time a fair exchange has made;<br> +Hard by, in hospitable shade,<br> + A reverend pilgrim dwells, 545<br> +Well worth the whole Bernardine brood,<br> +That e’er wore sandal, frock, or hood.)<br> +Yet did Saint Bernard’s Abbot there<br> +Give Marmion entertainment fair,<br> +And lodging for his train and Clare. 550<br> +Next morn the Baron climb’d the tower,<br> +To view afar the Scottish power,<br> + Encamp’d on Flodden edge:<br> +The white pavilions made a show,<br> +Like remnants of the winter snow, +555<br> + Along the dusky ridge.<br> +Long Marmion look’d:-at length his eye<br> +Unusual movement might descry<br> +Amid the shifting lines:<br> +The Scottish host drawn out appears, 560<br> +For, flashing on the hedge of spears,<br> + The eastern sunbeam shines.<br> +Their front now deepening, now extending;<br> +Their flank inclining, wheeling, bending,<br> +Now drawing back, and now descending, +565<br> +The skilful Marmion well could know,<br> +They watch’d the motions of some foe,<br> +Who traversed on the plain below.<br> +<br> +<br> +XIX.<br> +<br> +Even so it was. From Flodden ridge<br> + The Scots beheld the English host +570<br> + Leave Barmore-wood, their evening post,<br> + And heedful watch’d them as they cross’d<br> +The Till by Twisel Bridge.<br> + High sight it is, and haughty, while<br> + They dive into the deep defile; +575<br> + Beneath the cavern’d cliff they fall,<br> + Beneath the castle’s airy wall.<br> +By rock, by oak, by hawthorn-tree,<br> + Troop after troop are disappearing;<br> + Troop after troop their banners rearing, 580<br> +Upon the eastern bank you see.<br> +Still pouring down the rocky den,<br> + Where flows the sullen Till,<br> +And rising from the dim-wood glen,<br> +Standards on standards, men on men, +585<br> + In slow succession still,<br> +And, sweeping o’er the Gothic arch,<br> +And pressing on, in ceaseless march,<br> + To gain the opposing hill.<br> +That morn, to many a trumpet clang, +590<br> +Twisel! thy rock’s deep echo rang;<br> +And many a chief of birth and rank,<br> +Saint Helen! at thy fountain drank.<br> +Thy hawthorn glade, which now we see<br> +In spring-tide bloom so lavishly, +595<br> +Had then from many an axe its doom,<br> +To give the marching columns room.<br> +<br> +<br> +XX.<br> +<br> +And why stands Scotland idly now,<br> +Dark Flodden! on thy airy brow,<br> +Since England gains the pass the while, +600<br> +And struggles through the deep defile?<br> +What checks the fiery soul of James?<br> +Why sits that champion of the dames<br> + Inactive on his steed,<br> +And sees, between him and his land, +605<br> +Between him and Tweed’s southern strand,<br> + His host Lord Surrey lead?<br> +What ‘vails the vain knight-errant’s brand?--<br> +O, Douglas, for thy leading wand!<br> + Fierce Randolph, for thy speed! +610<br> +O for one hour of Wallace wight,<br> +Or well-skill’d Bruce, to rule the fight,<br> +And cry-‘Saint Andrew and our right!’<br> +Another sight had seen that morn,<br> +From Fate’s dark book a leaf been torn, +615<br> +And Flodden had been Bannockbourne!-<br> +The precious hour has pass’d in vain,<br> +And England’s host has gain’d the plain;<br> +Wheeling their march, and circling still,<br> +Around the base of Flodden hill. 620<br> +<br> +<br> +XXI.<br> +<br> +Ere yet the bands met Marmion’s eye,<br> +Fitz-Eustace shouted loud and high,<br> +‘Hark! hark! my lord, an English drum!<br> +And see ascending squadrons come<br> + Between Tweed’s river and the hill, +625<br> +Foot, horse, and cannon:-hap what hap,<br> +My basnet to a prentice cap,<br> + Lord Surrey’s o’er the Till!-<br> +Yet more! yet more!-how far array’d<br> +They file from out the hawthorn shade, 630<br> + And sweep so gallant by!<br> +With all their banners bravely spread,<br> + And all their armour flashing high,<br> +Saint George might waken from the dead,<br> +To see fair England’s standards fly.’- + 635<br> +‘Stint in thy prate,’ quoth Blount, +‘thou’dst best,<br> +And listen to our lord’s behest.’-<br> +With kindling brow Lord Marmion said,-<br> +‘This instant be our band array’d;<br> +The river must be quickly cross’d, +640<br> +That we may join Lord Surrey’s host.<br> +If fight King James,-as well I trust,<br> +That fight he will, and fight he must,-<br> +The Lady Clare behind our lines<br> +Shall tarry, while the battle joins.’ +645<br> +<br> +<br> +XXII.<br> +<br> +Himself he swift on horseback threw,<br> +Scarce to the Abbot bade adieu;<br> +Far less would listen to his prayer,<br> +To leave behind the helpless Clare.<br> +Down to the Tweed his band he drew, +650<br> +And mutter’d as the flood they view,<br> +‘The pheasant in the falcon’s claw,<br> +He scarce will yield to please a daw:<br> +Lord Angus may the Abbot awe,<br> + So Clare shall bide with me.’ +655<br> +Then on that dangerous ford, and deep,<br> +Where to the Tweed Leat’s eddies creep,<br> + He ventured desperately:<br> +And not a moment will he bide,<br> +Till squire, or groom, before him ride; +660<br> +Headmost of all he stems the tide,<br> + And stems it gallantly.<br> +Eustace held Clare upon her horse,<br> + Old Hubert led her rein,<br> +Stoutly they braved the current’s course, +665<br> +And, though far downward driven per force,<br> + The southern bank they gain;<br> +Behind them, straggling, came to shore,<br> + As best they might, the train:<br> +Each o’er his head his yew-bow bore, +670<br> +A caution not in vain;<br> +Deep need that day that every string,<br> +By wet unharm’d, should sharply ring.<br> +A moment then Lord Marmion staid,<br> +And breathed his steed, his men array’d, +675<br> + Then forward moved his band,<br> +Until, Lord Surrey’s rear-guard won,<br> +He halted by a Cross of Stone,<br> +That, on a hillock standing lone,<br> +Did all the field command. 680<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIII.<br> +<br> +Hence might they see the full array<br> +Of either host, for deadly fray;<br> +Their marshall’d lines stretch’d east and west,<br> + And fronted north and south,<br> +And distant salutation pass’d +685<br> + From the loud cannon mouth;<br> +Not in the close successive rattle,<br> +That breathes the voice of modern battle,<br> + But slow and far between.-<br> +The hillock gain’d, Lord Marmion staid: +690<br> +‘Here, by this Cross,’ he gently said,<br> + ‘You well may view the scene.<br> +Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare:<br> +O! think of Marmion in thy prayer!-<br> +Thou wilt not?-well, no less my care 695<br> +Shall, watchful, for thy weal prepare.-<br> +You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard,<br> + With ten pick’d archers of my train;<br> +With England if the day go hard,<br> + To Berwick speed amain.- 700<br> +But if we conquer, cruel maid,<br> +My spoils shall at your feet be laid,<br> + When here we meet again.’<br> +He waited not for answer there,<br> +And would not mark the maid’s despair, +705<br> + Nor heed the discontented look<br> +From either squire; but spurr’d amain,<br> +And, dashing through the battle-plain,<br> +His way to Surrey took.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIV.<br> +<br> +‘-The good Lord Marmion, by my life! +710<br> + Welcome to danger’s hour!-<br> +Short greeting serves in time of strife :<br> + Thus have I ranged my power:<br> +Myself will rule this central host,<br> + Stout Stanley fronts their right, +715<br> +My sons command the vaward post,<br> + With Brian Tunstall, stainless knight;<br> + Lord Dacre, with his horsemen light,<br> + Shall be in rear-ward of the fight,<br> +And succour those that need it most. 720<br> + Now, gallant Marmion, well I know,<br> + Would gladly to the vanguard go;<br> +Edmund, the Admiral, Tunstall there,<br> +With thee their charge will blithely share;<br> +There fight thine own retainers too, 725<br> +Beneath De Burg, thy steward true.’-<br> +‘Thanks, noble Surrey!’ Marmion said,<br> +Nor farther greeting there he paid;<br> +But, parting like a thunderbolt,<br> +First in the vanguard made a halt, 730<br> + Where such a shout there rose<br> +Of ‘Marmion! Marmion!’ that the cry,<br> +Up Flodden mountain shrilling high,<br> +Startled the Scottish foes.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXV.<br> +<br> +Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested still 735<br> +With Lady Clare upon the hill;<br> +On which, (for far the day was spent,)<br> +The western sunbeams now were bent.<br> +The cry they heard, its meaning knew,<br> +Could plain their distant comrades view: 740<br> +Sadly to Blount did Eustace say,<br> +‘Unworthy office here to stay!<br> +No hope of gilded spurs to-day.-<br> +But see! look up-on Flodden bent<br> +The Scottish foe has fired his tent.’ +745<br> + And sudden, as he spoke,<br> +From the sharp ridges of the hill,<br> +All downward to the banks of Till,<br> + Was wreathed in sable smoke.<br> +Volumed and fast, and rolling far, 750<br> +The cloud enveloped Scotland’s war,<br> + As down the hill they broke;<br> +Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone,<br> +Announced their march; their tread alone,<br> +At times one warning trumpet blown, +755<br> + At times a stifled hum,<br> +Told England, from his mountain-throne<br> + King James did rushing come.-<br> +Scarce could they hear, or see their foes,<br> + Until at weapon-point they close.- 760<br> +They close, in clouds of smoke and dust,<br> +With sword-sway, and with lance’s thrust;<br> + And such a yell was there,<br> +Of sudden and portentous birth,<br> +As if men fought upon the earth, 765<br> + And fiends in upper air;<br> +Oh, life and death were in the shout,<br> +Recoil and rally, charge and rout,<br> + And triumph and despair.<br> +Long look’d the anxious squires; their eye +770<br> +Could in the darkness nought descry.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVI.<br> +<br> +At length the freshening western blast<br> +Aside the shroud of battle cast;<br> +And, first, the ridge of mingled spears<br> +Above the brightening cloud appears; 775<br> +And in the smoke the pennons flew,<br> +As in the storm the white sea-mew.<br> +Then mark’d they, dashing broad and far,<br> +The broken billows of the war,<br> +And plumed crests of chieftains brave, 780<br> +Floating like foam upon the wave;<br> + But nought distinct they see:<br> +Wide raged the battle on the plain;<br> +Spears shook, and falchions flash’d amain;<br> +Fell England’s arrow-flight like rain; +785<br> +Crests rose, and stoop’d, and rose again,<br> + Wild and disorderly.<br> +Amid the scene of tumult, high<br> +They saw Lord Marmion’s falcon fly:<br> +And stainless Tunstall’s banner white, +790<br> +And Edmund Howard’s lion bright,<br> +Still bear them bravely in the fight;<br> + Although against them come,<br> +Of gallant Gordons many a one,<br> +And many a stubborn Badenoch-man, +795<br> +And many a rugged Border clan,<br> + With Huntly, and with Home.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVII.<br> +<br> +Far on the left, unseen the while,<br> +Stanley broke Lennox and Argyle;<br> +Though there the western mountaineer 800<br> +Rush’d with bare bosom on the spear,<br> +And flung the feeble targe aside,<br> +And with both hands the broadsword plied.<br> +‘Twas vain:-But Fortune, on the right,<br> +With fickle smile, cheer’d Scotland’s fight. + 805<br> +Then fell that spotless banner white,<br> + The Howard’s lion fell;<br> +Yet still Lord Marmion’s falcon flew<br> +With wavering flight, while fiercer grew<br> + Around the battle-yell. +810<br> +The Border slogan rent the sky!<br> +A Home! a Gordon! was the cry:<br> + Loud were the clanging blows;<br> +Advanced,-forced back,-now low, now high,<br> + The pennon sunk and rose; +815<br> +As bends the bark’s mast in the gale,<br> +When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail,<br> + It waver’d ‘mid the foes.<br> +No longer Blount the view could bear:<br> +‘By Heaven, and all its saints! I swear +820<br> + I will not see it lost!<br> +Fitz-Eustace, you with Lady Clare<br> +May bid your beads, and patter prayer,-<br> + I gallop to the host.’<br> +And to the fray he rode amain, 825<br> +Follow’d by all the archer train.<br> +The fiery youth, with desperate charge,<br> +Made, for a space, an opening large,-<br> + The rescued banner rose,-<br> +But darkly closed the war around, +830<br> +Like pine-tree rooted from the ground,<br> + It sank among the foes.<br> +Then Eustace mounted too:-yet staid,<br> +As loath to leave the helpless maid,<br> + When, fast as shaft can fly, 835<br> +Blood-shot his eyes, his nostrils spread,<br> +The loose rein dangling from his head,<br> +Housing and saddle bloody red,<br> + Lord Marmion’s steed rush’d by;<br> +And Eustace, maddening at the sight, 840<br> + A look and sign to Clara cast,<br> + To mark he would return in haste,<br> +Then plunged into the fight.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXVIII.<br> +<br> +Ask me not what the maiden feels,<br> + Left in that dreadful hour alone: +845<br> +Perchance her reason stoops, or reels;<br> + Perchance a courage, not her own,<br> +Braces her mind to desperate tone.-<br> +The scatter’d van of England wheels;-<br> +She only said, as loud in air +850<br> + The tumult roar’d, ‘Is Wilton there?’-<br> + They fly, or, madden’d by despair,<br> +Fight but to die,-’Is Wilton there?’-<br> +With that, straight up the hill there rode<br> + Two horsemen drench’d with gore, +855<br> +And in their arms, a helpless load,<br> + A wounded knight they bore.<br> +His hand still strain’d the broken brand;<br> +His arms were smear’d with blood and sand:<br> +Dragg’d from among the horses’ feet, + 860<br> +With dinted shield, and helmet beat,<br> +The falcon-crest and plumage gone,<br> +Can that be haughty Marmion! . . .<br> +Young Blount his armour did unlace,<br> +And gazing on his ghastly face, +865<br> + Said-’By Saint George, he’s gone!<br> +That spear-wound has our master sped,<br> +And see the deep cut on his head!<br> + Good-night to Marmion.’-<br> +‘Unnurtured Blount! thy brawling cease: +870<br> +He opes his eyes,’ said Eustace; ‘peace!’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXIX.<br> +<br> +When, doff’d his casque, he felt free air,<br> +Around ‘gan Marmion wildly stare:-<br> +‘Where’s Harry Blount? Fitz-Eustace where?<br> +Linger ye here, ye hearts of hare! 875<br> +Redeem my pennon,-charge again!<br> +Cry”Marmion to the rescue!”-Vain!<br> +Last of my race, on battle-plain<br> +That shout shall ne’er be heard again!-<br> +Yet my last thought is England’s-fly, +880<br> + To Dacre bear my signet-ring:<br> + Tell him his squadrons up to bring.-<br> +Fitz-Eustace, to Lord Surrey hie;<br> + Tunstall lies dead upon the field,<br> + His life-blood stains the spotless shield: 885<br> + Edmund is down;-my life is reft;<br> + The Admiral alone is left.<br> + Let Stanley charge with spur of fire,-<br> + With Chester charge, and Lancashire,<br> + Full upon Scotland’s central host, +890<br> + Or victory and England’s lost.-<br> + Must I bid twice?-hence, varlets! fly!<br> + Leave Marmion here alone-to die.’<br> + They parted, and alone he lay;<br> + Clare drew her from the sight away, +895<br> +Till pain wrung forth a lowly moan,<br> +And half he murmur’d,-‘Is there none,<br> + Of all my halls have nurst,<br> +Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring<br> +Of blessed water from the spring, +900<br> + To slake my dying thirst!’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXX.<br> +<br> +O, Woman! in our hours of ease,<br> +Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,<br> +And variable as the shade<br> +By the light quivering aspen made; 905<br> +When pain and anguish wring the brow,<br> +A ministering angel thou!-<br> +Scarce were the piteous accents said,<br> +When, with the Baron’s casque, the maid<br> + To the nigh streamlet ran: 910<br> +Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears;<br> +The plaintive voice alone she hears,<br> + Sees but the dying man.<br> +She stoop’d her by the runnel’s side,<br> + But in abhorrence backward drew; 915<br> +For, oozing from the mountain’s side,<br> +Where raged the war, a dark-red tide<br> + Was curdling in the streamlet blue.<br> +Where shall she turn!-behold her mark<br> + A little fountain cell, +920<br> +Where water, clear as diamond-spark,<br> + In a stone basin fell.<br> +Above, some half-worn letters say,<br> +Drink . weary . pilgrim . drink . and . pray .<br> + for . the . kind . soul . of . Sybil .Grey . + 925<br> + Who . built . this . cross . and . well .<br> +She fill’d the helm, and back she hied,<br> +And with surprise and joy espied<br> + A Monk supporting Marmion’s head;<br> +A pious man, whom duty brought 930<br> +To dubious verge of battle fought,<br> + To shrieve the dying, bless the dead.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXI.<br> +<br> +Deep drank Lord Marmion of the wave,<br> +And, as she stoop’d his brow to lave-<br> +‘Is it the hand of Clare,’ he said, + 935<br> +‘Or injured Constance, bathes my head?’<br> + Then, as remembrance rose,-<br> +‘Speak not to me of shrift or prayer!<br> + I must redress her woes.<br> +Short space, few words, are mine to spare +940<br> +Forgive and listen, gentle Clare!’-<br> + ‘Alas!’ she said, ‘the while,-<br> +O, think of your immortal weal!<br> +In vain for Constance is your zeal;<br> + She-died at Holy Isle.’- +945<br> +Lord Marmion started from the ground,<br> +As light as if he felt no wound;<br> +Though in the action burst the tide,<br> +In torrents, from his wounded side.<br> +‘Then it was truth,’-he said-’I knew + 950<br> +That the dark presage must be true.-<br> +I would the Fiend, to whom belongs<br> +The vengeance due to all her wrongs,<br> + Would spare me but a day!<br> +For wasting fire, and dying groan, 955<br> +And priests slain on the altar stone,<br> +Might bribe him for delay.<br> +It may not be!-this dizzy trance-<br> +Curse on yon base marauder’s lance,<br> +And doubly cursed my failing brand! +960<br> +A sinful heart makes feeble hand.’<br> +Then, fainting, down on earth he sunk,<br> +Supported by the trembling Monk.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXII.<br> +<br> +With fruitless labour, Clara bound,<br> +And strove to stanch the gushing wound: +965<br> +The Monk, with unavailing cares,<br> +Exhausted all the Church’s prayers.<br> +Ever, he said, that, close and near,<br> +A lady’s voice was in his ear,<br> +And that the priest he could not hear; 970<br> + For that she ever sung,<br> +<i>‘In the lost battle, borne down by the flying,<br> +Where mingles war’s rattle with groans of the +dying</i>!’<br> + So the notes rung;-<br> +‘Avoid thee, Fiend!-with cruel hand, +975<br> +Shake not the dying sinner’s sand!-<br> +O, look, my son, upon yon sign<br> +Of the Redeemer’s grace divine;<br> + O, think on faith and bliss!<br> +By many a death-bed I have been, 980<br> +And many a sinner’s parting seen,<br> + But never aught like this.’-<br> +The war, that for a space did fail,<br> +Now trebly thundering swell’d the gale,<br> + And-STANLEY! was the cry;- 985<br> +A light on Marmion’s visage spread,<br> + And fired his glazing eye:<br> +With dying hand, above his head,<br> +He shook the fragment of his blade,<br> + And shouted ‘Victory!- +990<br> +Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!’<br> +Were the last words of Marmion.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXIII.<br> +<br> +By this, though deep the evening fell,<br> +Still rose the battle’s deadly swell,<br> +For still the Scots, around their King, +995<br> +Unbroken, fought in desperate ring.<br> +Where’s now their victor vaward wing,<br> + Where Huntly, and where Home?-<br> +O, for a blast of that dread horn,<br> +On Fontarabian echoes borne, +1000<br> + That to King Charles did come,<br> +When Rowland brave, and Olivier,<br> +And every paladin and peer,<br> + On Roncesvalles died!<br> +Such blasts might warn them, not in vain, 1005<br> +To quit the plunder of the slain,<br> +And turn the doubtful day again,<br> + While yet on Flodden side,<br> +Afar, the Royal Standard flies,<br> +And round it toils, and bleeds, and dies, 1010<br> + Our Caledonian pride!<br> +In vain the wish-for far away,<br> +While spoil and havoc mark their way,<br> +Near Sybil’s Cross the plunderers stray.-<br> +‘O Lady,’ cried the Monk, ‘away!’ + 1015<br> + And placed her on her steed,<br> +And led her to the chapel fair,<br> + Of Tilmouth upon Tweed.<br> +There all the night they spent in prayer,<br> +And at the dawn of morning, there 1020<br> +She met her kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXIV.<br> +<br> +But as they left the dark’ning heath,<br> +More desperate grew the strife of death,<br> +The English shafts in volleys hail’d,<br> +In headlong charge their horse assail’d; +1025<br> +Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep<br> +To break the Scottish circle deep,<br> + That fought around their King.<br> +But yet, though thick the shafts as snow,<br> +Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, 1030<br> +Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow,<br> + Unbroken was the ring;<br> +The stubborn spear-men still made good<br> +Their dark impenetrable wood,<br> +Each stepping where his comrade stood, +1035<br> + The instant that he fell.<br> +No thought was there of dastard flight;<br> +Link’d in the serried phalanx tight,<br> +Groom fought like noble, squire like knight,<br> + As fearlessly and well; 1040<br> +Till utter darkness closed her wing<br> +O’er their thin host and wounded King.<br> +Then skilful Surrey’s sage commands<br> +Led back from strife his shatter’d bands;<br> + And from the charge they drew, +1045<br> +As mountain-waves, from wasted lands,<br> + Sweep back to ocean blue.<br> +Then did their loss his foemen know;<br> +Their King, their Lords, their mightiest low,<br> +They melted from the field, as snow, +1050<br> +When streams are swoln and south winds blow<br> + Dissolves in silent dew.<br> +Tweed’s echoes heard the ceaseless plash,<br> + While many a broken band,<br> +Disorder’d, through her currents dash, +1055<br> + To gain the Scottish land;<br> +To town and tower, to down and dale,<br> +To tell red Flodden’s dismal tale,<br> +And raise the universal wail.<br> +Tradition, legend, tune, and song, +1060<br> +Shall many an age that wail prolong:<br> +Still from the sire the son shall hear<br> +Of the stern strife, and carnage drear,<br> + Of Flodden’s fatal field,<br> +Where shiver’d was fair Scotland’s spear,<br> +And broken was her shield!<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXV.<br> +<br> +Day dawns upon the mountain’s side:-<br> +There, Scotland! lay thy bravest pride,<br> +Chiefs, knights, and nobles, many a one:<br> +The sad survivors all are gone.-- 1072<br> +View not that corpse mistrustfully,<br> +Defaced and mangled though it be;<br> +Nor to yon Border castle high,<br> +Look northward with upbraiding eye;<br> + Nor cherish hope in vain, 1075<br> +That, journeying far on foreign strand,<br> +The Royal Pilgrim to his land<br> + May yet return again.<br> +He saw the wreck his rashness wrought;<br> +Reckless of life, he desperate fought, +1080<br> + And fell on Flodden plain:<br> +And well in death his trusty brand,<br> +Firm clench’d within his manly hand,<br> + Beseem’d the monarch slain.<br> +But, O! how changed since yon blithe night! 1085<br> +Gladly I turn me from the sight,<br> + Unto my tale again.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXVI.<br> +<br> +Short is my tale:-Fitz-Eustace’ care<br> +A pierced and mangled body bare<br> +To moated Lichfield’s lofty pile; +1090<br> +And there, beneath the southern aisle,<br> +A tomb, with Gothic sculpture fair,<br> +Did long Lord Marmion’s image bear,<br> +(Now vainly for its site you look;<br> +‘Twas levell’d, when fanatic Brook + 1095<br> +The fair cathedral storm’d and took;<br> +But, thanks to Heaven, and good Saint Chad,<br> +A guerdon meet the spoiler had!)<br> +There erst was martial Marmion found,<br> +His feet upon a couchant hound, 1100<br> + His hands to Heaven upraised;<br> +And all around, on scutcheon rich,<br> +And tablet carved, and fretted niche,<br> + His arms and feats were blazed.<br> +And yet, though all was carved so fair, 1105<br> +And priest for Marmion breathed the prayer,<br> +The last Lord Marmion lay not there.<br> +From Ettrick woods, a peasant swain<br> +Follow’d his lord to Flodden plain,-<br> +One of those flowers, whom plaintive lay +1110<br> +In Scotland mourns as ‘wede away’:<br> +Sore wounded, Sybil’s Cross he spied,<br> +And dragg’d him to its foot, and died,<br> +Close by the noble Marmion’s side.<br> +The spoilers stripp’d and gash’d the slain, + 1115<br> +And thus their corpses were mista’en;<br> +And thus, in the proud Baron’s tomb,<br> +The lowly woodsman took the room.<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXVII.<br> +<br> +Less easy task it were, to show<br> +Lord Marmion’s nameless grave, and low. +1120<br> + They dug his grave e’en where he lay,<br> + But every mark is gone;<br> + Time’s wasting hand has done away<br> + The simple Cross of Sybil Grey,<br> + And broke her font of stone: +1123<br> +But yet from out the little hill<br> +Oozes the slender springlet still,<br> +Oft halts the stranger there,<br> +For thence may best his curious eye<br> +The memorable field descry; 1130<br> + And shepherd boys repair<br> +To seek the water-flag and rush,<br> +And rest them by the hazel bush,<br> + And plait their garlands fair;<br> +Nor dream they sit upon the grave, +1135<br> +That holds the bones of Marmion brave.-<br> +When thou shalt find the little hill,<br> +With thy heart commune, and be still.<br> +If ever, in temptation strong,<br> +Thou left’st the right path for the wrong; +1140<br> +If every devious step, thus trod,<br> +Still led thee farther from the road;<br> +Dread thou to speak presumptuous doom<br> +On noble Marmion’s lowly tomb;<br> +But say, ‘He died a gallant knight, +1145<br> +With sword in hand, for England’s right.’<br> +<br> +<br> +XXXVIII.<br> +<br> +I do not rhyme to that dull elf,<br> +Who cannot image to himself,<br> +That all through Flodden’s dismal night,<br> +Wilton was foremost in the fight; 1150<br> +That, when brave Surrey’s steed was slain,<br> +‘Twas Wilton mounted him again;<br> +‘Twas Wilton’s brand that deepest hew’d,<br> +Amid the spearmen’s stubborn wood:<br> +Unnamed by Hollinshed or Hall, +1155<br> +He was the living soul of all;<br> +That, after fight, his faith made plain,<br> +He won his rank and lands again;<br> +And charged his old paternal shield<br> +With bearings won on Flodden Field. 1160<br> +Nor sing I to that simple maid,<br> +To whom it must in terms be said,<br> +That King and kinsmen did agree,<br> +To bless fair Clara’s constancy;<br> +Who cannot, unless I relate, +1165<br> +Paint to her mind the bridal’s state;<br> +That Wolsey’s voice the blessing spoke,<br> +More, Sands, and Denny, pass’d the joke:<br> +That bluff King Hal the curtain drew,<br> +And Catherine’s hand the stocking threw; +1170<br> +And afterwards, for many a day,<br> +That it was held enough to say,<br> +In blessing to a wedded pair,<br> +‘Love they like Wilton and like Clare!’<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +L’Envoy.<br> +<br> +<br> +TO THE READER.<br> +<br> +Why then a final note prolong,<br> +Or lengthen out a closing song,<br> +Unless to bid the gentles speed,<br> +Who long have listed to my rede?<br> +To Statesmen grave, if such may deign +5<br> +To read the Minstrel’s idle strain,<br> +Sound head, clean hand, and piercing wit,<br> +And patriotic heart-as PITT!<br> +A garland for the hero’s crest,<br> +And twined by her he loves the best; +10<br> +To every lovely lady bright,<br> +What can I wish but faithful knight?<br> +To every faithful lover too,<br> +What can I wish but lady true?<br> +And knowledge to the studious sage; 15<br> +And pillow to the head of age.<br> +To thee, dear school-boy, whom my lay<br> +Has cheated of thy hour of play,<br> +Light task, and merry holiday!<br> +To all, to each, a fair good-night, 20<br> +And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light!<br> +<br> +<b>NOTES<br> +<br> +by<br> +<br> +Thomas Bayne<br> +INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST.<br> +</b>With regard to the Introductions generally, Lockhart writes, +in Life of Scott, ii. 150:-‘Though the author himself does +not allude to, and had perhaps forgotten the circumstance, when +writing the Introductory Essay of 1830-they were announced, by an +advertisement early in 1807, as “Six Epistles from Ettrick +Forest,” to be published in a separate volume, similar to +that of the Ballads and Lyrical Pieces; and perhaps it might have +been better that this first plan had been adhered to. But however +that may be, are there any pages, among all he ever wrote, that +one would be more sorry he should not have written? They are +among the most delicious portraitures that genius ever painted of +itself-buoyant, virtuous, happy genius-exulting in its own +energies, yet possessed and mastered by a clear, calm, modest +mind, and happy only in diffusing happiness around it.<br> +<br> +‘With what gratification those Epistles were read by the +friends to whom they were addressed it is superfluous to show. He +had, in fact, painted them almost as fully as himself; and who +might not have been proud to find a place in such a gallery? The +tastes and habits of six of those men, in whose intercourse Scott +found the greatest pleasure when his fame was approaching its +meridian splendour, are thus preserved for posterity; and when I +reflect with what avidity we catch at the least hint which seems +to afford us a glimpse of the intimate circle of any great poet +of former ages, I cannot but believe that posterity would have +held this record precious, even had the individuals been in +themselves far less remarkable than a Rose, an Ellis, a Heber, a +Skene, a Marriott, and an Erskine.’<br> +<br> +William Stewart Rose (1775-1843), to whom Scott addresses the +Introduction to Canto First, was a well-known man of letters in +his time. He addressed to Hallam, in 1819, a work in two vols., +entitled ‘Letters from the North of Italy,’ and +escaped a prohibitory order from the Emperor of Austria by +ingeniously changing his title to ‘A Treatise upon Sour +Krout,’ &c. His other original works are, +‘Apology addressed to the Travellers’ Club; or, +Anecdotes of Monkeys’; ‘Thoughts and Recollections by +one of the Last Century’; and ‘Epistle to the Hon. J. +Hookham Frere in Malta.’ His translations are +these:-‘Amadis of Gaul: a Poem in three Books, freely +translated from the French version of Nicholas de Herberay’ +(1803); ‘Partenopex de Blois, a Romance in four Cantos, +from the French of M. Le Grand’ (1807); ‘Court and +Parliament of Beasts, translated from the Animali Parlanti of +Giambatista Casti’ (1819); and ‘Orlando Furioso, +translated into English Verse’ (1825-1831). The closing +lines of this Introduction refer to Rose’s +‘Amadis’ and ‘Partenopex.’<br> +<br> +Ashestiel, whence the Introduction to the First Canto is dated, +is on the Tweed, about six miles above Abbotsford. ‘The +valley there is narrow,’ says Lockhart, ‘and the +aspect in every direction is that of perfect pastoral +repose.’ This was Scott’s home from 1804 to l812, +when he removed to Abbotsford.<br> +<br> +--------------------<br> +<br> +<b>lines 1-52.</b> This notable winter piece is the best modern +contribution to that series of poetical descriptions by Scottish +writers which includes Dunbar’s ‘Meditatioun in +Winter,’ Gavin Douglas’s Scottish winter scene in the +Prologue to his Virgil’s Aeneid VII, Hamilton of +Bangour’s Ode III, and, of course, Thomson’s +‘Winter’ in ‘The Seasons.’ The details of +the piece are given with admirable skill, and the local +place-names are used with characteristic effect. The note of +regret over winter’s ravages, common to all early Scottish +poets, is skilfully struck and preserved, and thus the contrast +designed between the wintry landscape and ‘my +Country’s wintry state’ is rendered sharper and more +decisive.<br> +<br> +<b>line 3. steepy linn</b>. Steepy is Elizabethan = steep, +precipitous. Linn (Gael. <i>linne</i> = pool; A.S. <i>hlinna</i> += brook) is variously used for ‘pool under a +waterfall,’ ‘cascade,’ ‘precipice,’ +and ‘ravine.’ The reference here is to the ravine +close by Ashestiel, mentioned in Lockhart’s description of +the surroundings:-’On one side, close under the windows, is +a deep ravine clothed with venerable trees, down which a mountain +rivulet is heard, more than seen, in its progress to the +Tweed.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 16</b>. <b>our forest hills</b>. Selkirkshire is +poetically called ‘Ettrick Forest’; hence the +description of the soldiers from that district killed at Flodden +as ‘the flowers of the forest.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 22</b>. Cp. Hamilton of Bangour’s allusion (Ode +III. 43) to the appearance of winter on these heights;-<br> +<br> + ‘Cast up thy eyes, how bleak and bare<br> + He wanders on the tops of Yare!’<br> +<br> +<b>line 37</b>. <b>imps</b> (Gr. <i>emphutos</i>, Swed. +<i>ympa</i>). See ‘Faery Queene,’ Book I. (Clarendon +Press), note to Introd. The word means (1) a graft; (2) a scion +of a noble house; (3) a little demon; (4) a mischievous child. +The context implies that the last is the sense in which the word +is used here. Cp. Beattie’s ‘Minstrel,’ i. +17:-<br> +<br> + ‘Nor cared to mingle in the clamorous fray<br> + Of squabbling <i>imps</i>,’<br> +<br> +<b>line 50</b>. <b>round</b>. Strictly speaking, a round is a +circular dance in which the performers hold each other by the +hands. The term, however, is fairly applicable to the frolicsome +gambols of a group of lambs in a spring meadow. Certain rounds +became famous enough to be individualised, as e.g. +Sellenger’s or St. Leger’s round, mentioned in the +May-day song, ‘Come Lasses and Lads.’ Cp. Macbeth, +iv. 1; Midsummer Night’s Dream, ii. 2; and see note on +Comus, line 144, in ‘English Poems of Milton,’ vol. +i. (Clarendon Press).<br> +<br> +<b>line 53</b>. Lockhart, in a foot-note to his edition of +‘Marmion,’ quotes from the ‘Monthly +Review’ of May, 1808: ‘The “chance and +change” of nature-the vicissitudes which are observable in +the moral as well as the physical part of the creation-have given +occasion to more exquisite poetry than any other general +subject.... The <i>Ai, ai, tai Malaki</i> of Moschus is worked up +again to some advantage in the following passage- “To +mute,” &c.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 61, 62</b>. The inversion of reference in these lines is +an illustration of the rhetorical figure ‘chiasmus.’ +Cp. the arrangement of the demonstrative pronouns in these +sentences from ‘Kenilworth’:-‘Your eyes +contradict your tongue. That speaks of a protector, willing and +able to watch over you; but these tell me you are +ruined.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 64</b>. Cp. closing lines of Wordsworth’s +‘Ode on Intimations of Immortality’ (finished in +1806):-<br> +<br> + ‘To me the meanest flower that blows can give<br> + Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 65-8</b>. Nelson fell at Trafalgar, Oct. 21, 1805; Pitt +died Jan. 23, 1806.<br> +<br> +<b>line 72. Gadite wave.</b> The epithet is derived from +<i>Gades</i>, the Roman name of the modern Cadiz.<br> +<br> +<b>line 73</b>. <b>Levin</b> = lightning. See Canto I, line 400. +Spenser uses the phrase ‘piercing levin’ in the July +eclogue of the ‘Shepheards Calendar,’ and in +‘Faery Queene,’ III. v. 48. The word still +occasionally occurs in poetry. Cp. Longfellow, ‘Golden +Legend,’ v., near end:-<br> +<br> + ‘See! from its summit the lurid levin<br> + Flashes downward without warning! ‘<br> +<br> +<b>line 76</b>. <b>fated =</b> charged with determination of +fate. Cp. All’s Well that Ends Well, i. I. 221-<br> +<br> + ‘The fated sky<br> + Gives us free scope.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 82. Hafnia</b>, is Copenhagen. The three victories are, +the battle of the Nile, 1798; the battle of the Baltic, 1801; and +Trafalgar, 1805.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 84-86</b>. Pitt (1759-1806) became First Lord of the +Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1783, and from 1785 +onwards the facts of his career are a constituent part of +national history. He faced with success difficulties like bread +riots, mutinies in the fleet in 1797, disturbances by the +‘United Irishmen,’ and the alarming threats of +Napoleon. In 1800 the Union of Ireland with Great Britain gave +Irishmen new motives for living, and in 1803 national patriotism, +stirred and guided by Pitt, was manifested in the enrolment of +over three hundred thousand volunteers prepared to withstand the +vaunted ‘Army of England.’ In spite of his +distinguished position and eminent services, Pitt died L40,000 in +debt, and his responsibilities were promptly met by a vote of the +House of Commons.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 97-108</b>. These picturesque lines, with their varied +and suggestive metaphors, were interpolated on the blank page of +the MS. The reference in the expression ‘tottering +throne’ in line 104 is to the threatened insanity of George +III.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 109-125</b>. Pitt’s patriotism was consistent and +thorough. The anxious, troubled expression his face, betrayed in +his latest appearances in the House of Commons, Wilberforce spoke +of as ‘his Austerlitz look,’ and there seems little +doubt that the burden of his public cares hastened his end. This +gives point to the comparison of his fate with that of +Aeneas’s pilot Palinurus (Aeneid v. 833).<br> +<br> +<b>lines 127-141</b>. Charles James Fox (1749-1806) was second +son of the first Lord Holland, whose indulgence tended to spoil a +youth of unusual ability and precocity. Extravagant habits, +contracted at an early age, were not easily thrown off +afterwards, but they did not interfere with Fox’s +efficiency as a statesman. His rivalry with Pitt dates from 1783. +Their tombs are near each other in Westminster Abbey.<br> +<br> +<b>line 146</b>. Cp. in Gray’s ‘Elegy’:--<br> +<br> + ‘Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted +vault<br> + The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 153</b>. Jeffrey, in his criticism of +‘Marmion’ in the ‘Edinburgh Review,’ +found fault with the tribute to Fox, and cavilled in particular +at the expression ‘Fox a Briton died.’ He argued that +Scott praised only the action of Fox in breaking off the +negotiations for peace with Napoleon, while insinuating that the +previous part of his career was unpatriotic. Only a special +pleader could put such an unworthy interpretation on the +words.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 155-65</b>. By the result of the battle of Austerlitz +(December, 1805) Napoleon seemed advancing towards general +victory. Prussia hastily patched up a dishonourable peace on +terms inconsistent with very binding pledges, and the Russian +minister at Paris compromised his country by yielding to +humiliating proposals on the part of France. All this changed +Fox’s view of the position, and he broke off the +negotiations for peace which had been begun in accordance with a +policy he had long advocated.<br> +<br> +<b>line 161</b>. There is a probable reference here to +Nelson’s action at the battle of the Baltic. He disregarded +the signal for cessation of fighting given by Sir Hyde Parker, +and ordered his own signal to be nailed to the mast.<br> +<br> +<b>line 176</b>. Thessaly was noted for witchcraft. The scene of +Virgil’s eighth Eclogue is laid in Thessaly as appropriate +to the introduction of such machinery as enchantments, +love-spells, &c. Cp. Horace, Epode v. 21, and Ode I. xxvii. +21:-<br> +<br> + ‘Quae saga, quis te solvere Thessalis<br> + Magus venenis, quis poterit deus?’<br> +<br> +In his ‘Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft,’ Letter +III., Scott, obviously basing his information on Horace, writes +thus:-‘The classic mythology presented numerous points in +which it readily coalesced with that of the Germans, Danes, and +Northmen of a later period. They recognised the power of Erictho, +Canidia, and other sorceresses, whose spells could perplex the +course of the elements, intercept the influence of the sun, and +prevent his beneficial operation upon the fruits of the earth; +call down the moon from her appointed sphere, and disturb the +original and destined course of nature by their words and charms, +and the power of the evil spirits whom they evoked.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 181. Lees</b> is properly pl. of <i>lee</i> +(Fr.<i>lie</i> = dregs), the sediment or coarser parts of a +liquid which settle at the bottom, but it has come to be used as +a collective word without reference to a singular form. For +phrase, cp. Macbeth, ii. 3. 96:-<br> +<br> + ‘The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees<br> + Is left this vault to brag of.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 185</b>. Cp. Byron’s ‘Age of +Bronze’:-<br> +<br> + ‘But where are they-the rivals!-a few feet<br> + Of sullen earth divide each winding-sheet.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 199. hearse</b>, from Old Fr. <i>herce</i> = harrow, +portcullis. In early English the word is used in the sense of +‘harrow’ and also of ‘triangle,’ in +reference to the shape of the harrow. By-and-by it came to be +used variously for ‘bier,’ ‘funeral +carriage,’ ornamental canopy with lighted candles over the +coffins of notable people during the funeral ceremony, the +permanent framework over a tomb, and even the tomb itself. Cp. +Spenser’s Shep. Cal., November Eclogue:-<br> +<br> + ‘Dido, my deare, alas! is dead,<br> + Dead, and lyeth wrapt in lead.<br> + O heavie herse!’<br> +<br> +The gloss to this is, ‘<i>Herse</i> is the solemne obsequie +in funeralles.’ Cp. also Ben Jonson’s ‘Epitaph +on the Countess of Pembroke’:-<br> +<br> + ‘Underneath this sable herse<br> + Lies the subject of all verse.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 203</b>. The ‘Border Minstrel’ is an +appropriate designation of the author of ‘Contributions to +the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border’ and the ‘Lay +of the Last Minstrel.’ In the preface to the latter work, +written in 1830, Scott refers to the two great statesmen as +having ‘smiled on the adventurous minstrel.’ This is +the only existing evidence of Fox’s appreciation. +Pitt’s praise of the Lay his niece, Lady Hester Stanhope, +reported to W. S. Rose, who very naturally passed it on to Scott +himself. The Right Hon. William Dundas, in a letter to Scott, +mentions a conversation he had had with Pitt at his table, in +1805, and says that Pitt both expressed his desire to advance +Scott’s professional interests and quoted from the Lay the +lines describing the embarrassment of the harper when asked to +play. ‘This,’ said he, ‘is a sort of thing +which I might have expected in painting, but could never have +fancied capable of being given in poetry.’-Lockhart’s +Life of Scott, ii. 34.<br> +<br> +<b>line 204. Gothic</b>. This refers to both subject and style, +neither being classical.<br> +<br> +<b>line 220</b>. Lockhart quotes from Rogers’s +‘Pleasures of Memory’:-<br> +<br> + ‘If but a beam of sober reason play,<br> + Lo! Fancy’s fairy frostwork melts away.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 233-48</b>. In these lines the poet indicates the sphere +in which he had previously worked with independence and success. +Like Virgil when proceeding to write the AEneid, he is doubtful +whether his devotion to legendary and pastoral themes is +sufficient warrant for attempting heroic verse. The reference to +the tales of shepherds in the closing lines of the passage +recalls the advice given (about 1880) to his students by Prof. +Shairp, when lecturing from the Poetry Chair at Oxford. ‘To +become steeped,’ he said, ‘in the true atmosphere of +romantic poetry they should proceed to the Borders and learn +their legends, under the twofold guidance of Scott’s +“Border Minstrelsy” and an intelligent local +shepherd.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 256. steely weeds</b> = steel armour. +‘Steely’ in Elizabethan times was used both literally +and figuratively. Shakespeare, 3 Henry VI. ii. 3. 16, has +‘The steely point of Clifford’s lance,’ and +Fisher in his ‘Seuen Psalmes’ has ‘tough and +<i>stely</i> hertes.’ For a modern literal example, see +Crabbe’s ‘Parish Register’:-<br> +<br> + ‘Steel through opposing plates the magnet draws,<br> + And <i>steely</i> atoms calls from dust and +straws.’<br> +<br> +<i>Weeds</i> in the sense of dress is confined, in modern +English, to widows’ robes. In Elizabethan times it had a +general reference, as e.g. Spenser’s ‘lowly Shephards +weeds’ in the Introduction to ‘Faery Queene.’ +Cp. below, Canto V. line 168, VI. line 192.<br> +<br> +<b>line 258</b>. The Champion is Launcelot, the most famous of +King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table. See +Tennyson’s ‘Idylls of the King,’ especially +‘Lancelot and Elaine,’ and William Morris’s +‘Defence of Guenevere.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 263</b>. Dame Ganore is Guenevere, Arthur’s +Queen.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 258-262</b>. Scott annotates these lines as +follows:-<br> +<br> +‘The Romance of the Morte Arthur contains a sort of +abridgment of the most celebrated adventures of the Round Table; +and, being written in comparatively modern language, gives the +general reader an excellent idea of what romances of chivalry +actually were. It has also the merit of being written in pure old +English; and many of the wild adventures which it contains are +told with a simplicity bordering upon the sublime. Several of +these are referred to in the text; and I would have illustrated +them by more full extracts, but as this curious work is about to +be republished, I confine myself to the tale of the Chapel +Perilous, and of the quest of Sir Launcelot after the +Sangreal.<br> +<br> +‘“Right so Sir Lanncelot departed, and when he came +to the Chapell Perilous, he alighted downe, and tied his horse to +a little gate. And as soon as he was within the churchyard, he +saw, on the front of the chapell, many faire rich shields turned +upside downe; and many of the shields Sir Launcelot had seene +knights have before; with that he saw stand by him thirtie great +knights, more, by a yard, than any man that ever he had seene, +and all those grinned and gnashed at Sir Launcelot; and when he +saw their countenance, hee dread them sore, and so put his shield +afore him, and tooke his sword in his hand ready to doe battaile; +and they were all armed in black harneis, ready, with their +shields and swords drawen. And when Sir Launcelot would have gone +through them, they scattered on every side of him, and gave him +the way; and therewith he waxed all bold, and entered into the +chapell, and then hee saw no light but a dimme lampe burning, and +then was he ware of a corps covered with a cloath of silke; then +Sir Launcelot stooped downe, and cut a piece of that cloath away, +and then it fared under him as the earth had quaked a little, +whereof he was afeard, and then hee saw a faire sword lye by the +dead knight, and that he gat in his hand, and hied him out of the +chappell. As soon as he was in the chappell-yerd, all the knights +spoke to him with a grimly voice, and said, ‘Knight, Sir +Launcelot, lay that sword from thee, or else thou shalt +die.’-’Whether I live or die,’ said Sir +Launcelot, ‘with no great words get yee it againe, +therefore fight for it and ye list.’ Therewith he passed +through them; and beyond the chappell-yerd, there met him a faire +damosell, and said, ‘Sir Launcelot, leave that sword behind +thee, or thou wilt die for it.’-’I will not leave +it,’ said Sir Launcelot, ‘for no +threats.’-’No?’ said she; ‘and ye did +leave that sword, Queen Guenever should ye never +see.’-‘Then were I a foole and I would leave this +sword,’ said Sir Launcelot. ‘Now, gentle +knight,’ said the damosell, ‘I require thee to kisse +me once.’-’Nay,’ said Sir Launcelot, +‘that God forbid!’-‘Well, sir,’ said she, +‘and thou hadest kissed me thy life dayes had been done; +but now, alas!’ said she, ‘I have lost all my labour; +for I ordeined this chappell for thy sake, and for Sir Gawaine: +and once I had Sir Gawaine within it; and at that time he fought +with that knight which there lieth dead in yonder chappell, Sir +Gilbert the bastard, and at that time hee smote off Sir Gilbert +the bastard’s left hand. And so, Sir Launcelot, now I tell +thee, that I have loved thee this seaven yeare; but there may no +woman have thy love but Queene Guenever; but sithen I may not +rejoyice thee to have thy body alive, I had kept no more joy in +this world but to have had thy dead body; and I would have balmed +it and served, and so have kept it in my life daies, and daily I +should have clipped thee, and kissed thee, in the despite of +Queen Guenever.’-’Yee say well,’ said Sir +Launcelot; ‘Jesus preserve me from your subtill +craft.” And therewith he took his horse, and departed from +her.”‘<br> +<br> +Sir Thomas Malory’s ‘Morte D’Arthure’ was +first printed by Caxton in 4to., 1485. A new issue of this +belongs to 1634. The republication referred to by Scott is +probably the edition published in 1816, in two vols. l8mo. The +Roxburghe Club made a sumptuous reprint in 1819, and Thomas +Wright, in 1858, edited the work in three handy 8vo. vols. from +the text of 1634. This edition is furnished with a very useful +introduction and notes.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 267-70</b>. ‘One day when Arthur was holding a +high feast with his Knights of the Round Table, the Sangreal, or +vessel out of which the last passover was eaten, (a precious +relic, which had long remained concealed from human eyes, because +of the sins of the land,) suddenly appeared to him and all his +chivalry. The consequence of this vision was, that all the +knights took on them a solemn vow to seek the Sangreal. But, +alas! it could only be revealed to a knight at once accomplished +in earthly chivalry, and pure and guiltless of evil conversation. +All Sir Launcelot’s noble accomplishments were therefore +rendered vain by his guilty intrigue with Queen Guenever, or +Ganore; and in this holy quest he encountered only such +disgraceful disasters as that which follows:-<br> +<br> +‘But Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wild +forest, and held no path, but as wild adventure led him; and at +the last, he came unto a stone crosse, which departed two wayes, +in wast land; and, by the crosse, was a stone that was of marble; +but it was so dark, that Sir Launcelot might not well know what +it was. Then Sir Launcelot looked by him, and saw an old +chappell, and there he wend to have found people. And so Sir +Launcelot tied his horse to a tree, and there he put off his +shield, and hung it upon a tree, and then hee went unto the +chappell doore, and found it wasted and broken. And within he +found a faire altar, full richly arrayed with cloth of silk, and +there stood a faire candlestick, which beare six great candles, +and the candlesticke was of silver. And when Sir Launcelot saw +this light, hee had a great will for to enter into the chappell, +but he could find no place where hee might enter. Then was he +passing heavie and dismaied. Then he returned, and came again to +his horse, and tooke off his saddle and his bridle, and let him +pasture, and unlaced his helme, and ungirded his sword, and laid +him downe to sleepe upon his shield, before the crosse.<br> +<br> +‘And so hee fell on sleepe; and, halfe waking and halfe +sleeping, hee saw come by him two palfreys, both faire and white, +the which beare a litter, therein lying a sicke knight. And when +he was nigh the crosse, he there abode still. All this Sir +Launcelot saw and beheld, for hee slept not verily, and hee heard +him say, “O sweete Lord, when shall this sorrow leave me, +and when shall the holy vessell come by me, where through I shall +be blessed, for I have endured thus long for little +trespasse!” And thus a great while complained the knight, +and allwaies Sir Launcelot heard it. With that Sir Launcelot saw +the candlesticke, with the fire tapers, come before the crosse; +but he could see no body that brought it. Also there came a table +of silver, and the holy vessel of the Sancgreall, the which Sir +Launcelot had seen before that time in King Petchour’s +house. And therewithall the sicke knight set him upright, and +held up both his hands, and said, “Faire sweete Lord, which +is here within the holy vessell, take heed to mee, that I may bee +hole of this great malady!” And therewith upon his hands, +and upon his knees, he went so nigh, that he touched the holy +vessell, and kissed it: And anon he was hole, and then he said, +“Lord God, I thank thee, for I am healed of this +malady.” Soo when the holy vessell had been there a great +while, it went into the chappell againe, with the candlesticke +and the light, so that Sir Launcelot wist not where it became, +for he was overtaken with sinne, that he had no power to arise +against the holy vessell, wherefore afterward many men said of +him shame. But he tooke repentance afterward. Then the sicke +knight dressed him upright, and kissed the crosse. Then anon his +squire brought him his armes, and asked his lord how he did. +“Certainly,” said hee, I thanke God right heartily, +for through the holy vessell I am healed: But I have right great +mervaile of this sleeping knight, which hath had neither grace +nor power to awake during the time that this holy vessell hath +beene here present.”-“I dare it right well +say,” said the squire, “that this same knight is +defouled with some manner of deadly sinne, whereof he has never +confessed.”-”By my faith,” said the knight, +“whatsoeer he be, he is unhappie; for, as I deeme, hee is +of the fellowship of the Round Table, the which is entered into +the quest of the Sancgreall.”-“Sir,” said the +squire, “here I have brought you all your armes, save your +helme and your sword; and, therefore, by mine assent, now may ye +take this knight’s helme and his sword;’ and so he +did. And when he was cleane armed, he took Sir Launcelot’s +horse, for he was better than his owne, and so they departed from +the crosse.<br> +<br> +‘Then anon Sir Launcelot awaked, and set himselfe upright, +and he thought him what hee had there seene, and whether it were +dreames or not; right so he heard a voice that said, “Sir +Launcelot, more hardy than is the stone, and more bitter than is +the wood, and more naked and bare than is the liefe of the +fig-tree, therefore go thou from hence, and withdraw thee from +this holy place;” and when Sir Launcelot heard this, he was +passing heavy, and wist not what to doe. And so he departed sore +weeping, and cursed the time that he was borne; for then he +deemed never to have had more worship; for the words went unto +his heart, till that he knew wherefore that hee was so +called.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 273</b>. Arthur is the hero of the ‘Faery +Queene.’ In his explanatory letter to Sir Walter Raleigh, +Spenser says, ‘I chose the historye of King Arthure, as +most fitte for the excellency of his person, being made famous by +many mens former workes, and also furthest from the daunger of +envy, and suspicion of present time.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 274</b>. Milton is said to have meditated in his youth +the composition of an epic poem on Arthur and the Round Table. In +‘Paradise Lost’ ix. 26, he states that the subject of +that poem pleased him ‘long choosing and beginning +late,’ and references both in ‘Paradise Lost’ +and ‘Paradise Regained’ prove his familiarity with +the Arthurian legend. Cp. Par. Lost, i. 580, and Par. Reg. ii. +358.<br> +<br> +<b>line 275</b>. Scott quotes from Dryden’s ‘Essay on +Satire,’ prefixed to the translation of Juvenal, regarding +his projected Epic. ‘Of two subjects,’ says Dryden, +‘I was doubtful whether I should choose that of King Arthur +conquering the Saxons, which, being further distant in time, +gives the greater scope to my invention; or that of Edward the +Black Prince, in subduing Spain, and restoring it to the lawful +prince, though a great tyrant, Pedro the Cruel....I might perhaps +have done as well as some of my predecessors, or at least chalked +out a way for others to amend my errors in a like design; but +being encouraged only with fair words by King Charles II, my +little salary ill paid, and no prospect of a future subsistence, +I was then discouraged in the beginning of my attempt; and now +age has overtaken me, and want, a more insufferable evil, through +the change of the times, has wholly disabled me.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 281-3</b>. Dryden’s dramas, certain of his +translations, and various minor pieces adapted to the prevalent +taste of his time, are unworthy of his genius. Pope’s +reflections on the poet forgetful of the dignity of his office, +with the allusion to Dryden as an illustration (‘Satires +and Epistles,’ v. 209), may be compared with this +passage;-<br> +<br> + ‘I scarce can think him such a worthless thing,<br> + Unless he praise some monster of a king;<br> + Or virtue, or religion turn to sport,<br> + To please a lewd, or unbelieving court.<br> + Unhappy Dryden! In all Charles’s days,<br> + Roscommon only boasts unspotted bays.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 283</b>. Cp. Gray’s ‘Progress of +Poesy,’ 103-<br> +<br> + ‘Behold, where Dryden’s less presumptuous +car<br> + Wide o’er the fields of glory bear<br> + Two coursers of ethereal race,<br> + With necks in thunder cloth’d, and long-resounding +pace’;<br> +<br> +and Pope’s ‘Satires and Epistles,’ v. 267-<br> +<br> + ‘Dryden taught to join<br> + The varying verse, the full-resounding line,<br> + The long majestic march, and energy divine.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 286</b>. To break a lance is to enter the lists, to try +one’s strength. The concussion of two powerful knights +would suffice to shiver the lances. Hence comes the figurative +use. Cp. I Henry VI. iii. 2,-<br> +<br> + ‘What will you do, good greybeard? break a lance,<br> + And run a tilt at death within a chair?’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 288-309</b>. The Genius of Chivalry is to be +resuscitated from the deep slumber under which baneful spells +have long effectually held him. The appropriateness of this is +apparent when the true meaning of Chivalry is considered. Scott +opens his ‘Essay on Chivalry’ thus:-’The +primitive sense of this well-known word, derived from the French +<i>Chevalier</i>, signifies merely cavalry, or a body of soldiers +serving on horseback; and it has been used in that general +acceptation by the best of our poets, ancient and modern, from +Milton to Thomas Campbell.’ See Par. Lost, i. 307, and +Battle of Hohenlinden.<br> +<br> +<b>line 294</b>. To spur forward his horse on an expedition of +adventures, like Spenser’s Red Cross Knight. For the +accoutrements and the duties of a knight see Scott’s +‘Essay on Chivalry’ (Miscellaneous Works, vol. vi.). +Cp. ‘Faery Queene,’ Book I, and (especially for the +personified abstractions from line 300 onwards) +Montgomerie’s allegory, ‘The Cherrie and the +Slae.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 312</b>. Ytene’s oaks. ‘The New Forest in +Hampshire, anciently so called.’-SCOTT. Gundimore, the +residence of W. S. Rose, was in this neighbourhood, and in an +unpublished piece entitled ‘Gundimore,’ Rose thus +alludes to a visit of Scott’s:-<br> +<br> + ‘Here Walter Scott has woo’d the northern +muse;<br> + Here he with me has joy’d to walk or cruise;<br> + And hence has prick’d through Yten’s holt, +where we<br> + Have called to mind how under greenwood tree,<br> + Pierced by the partner of his “woodland +craft,”<br> + King Rufus fell by Tyrrell’s random shaft.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 314</b>. ‘The “History of Bevis of +Hampton” is abridged by my friend Mr. George Ellis, with +that liveliness which extracts amusement even out of the most +rude and unpromising of our old tales of chivalry. Ascapart, a +most important personage in the romance, is thus described in an +extract:-<br> +<br> + “This geaunt was mighty and strong,<br> + And full thirty foot was long.<br> + He was bristled like a sow;<br> + A foot he had between each brow;<br> + His lips were great, and hung aside;<br> + His eyen were hollow, his mouth was wide;<br> + Lothly he was to look on than,<br> + And liker a devil than a man.<br> + His staff was a young oak,<br> + Hard and heavy was his stroke.”<br> + <i>Specimens of Metrical Romances</i>, vol. ii. +p. 136.<br> +<br> +‘I am happy to say, that the memory of Sir Bevis is still +fragrant in his town of Southampton; the gate of which is +sentinelled by the effigies of that doughty knight errant and his +gigantic associate.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO FIRST.<br> +</b>The Introduction is written on a basis of regular four-beat +couplets, each line being technically an iambic tetrameter; lines +96, 205, and 283 are Alexandrines, or iambic hexameters, each +serving to give emphasis and resonance (like the ninth of the +Spenserian stanza) to the passage which it closes. Intensity of +expression is given by the triplet which closes the passage +ending with line 125. The metrical basis of the movement in the +Canto is likewise iambic tetrameter, but the trimeter or +three-beat line is freely introduced, and the poet allows himself +great scope in his arrangement.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza I. line 1</b>. ‘The ruinous castle of Norham +(anciently called Ubbanford) is situated on the southern bank of +the Tweed, about six miles above Berwick, and where that river is +still the boundary between England and Scotland. The extent of +its ruins, as well as its historical importance, shows it to have +been a place of magnificence, as well as strength. Edward I +resided there when he was created umpire of the dispute +concerning the Scottish succession. It was repeatedly taken and +retaken during the wars between England and Scotland; and, +indeed, scarce any happened, in which it had not a principal +share. Norham Castle is situated on a steep bank, which overhangs +the river. The repeated sieges which the castle had sustained, +rendered frequent repairs necessary. In 1164, it was almost +rebuilt by Hugh Pudsey, Bishop of Durham, who added a huge keep, +or donjon; notwithstanding which, King Henry II, in 1174, took +the castle from the bishop, and committed the keeping of it to +William de Neville. After this period it seems to have been +chiefly garrisoned by the King, and considered as a royal +fortress. The Greys of Chillinghame Castle were frequently the +castellans, or captains of the garrison: Yet, as the castle was +situated in the patrimony of St. Cuthbert, the property was in +the see of Durham till the Reformation. After that period, it +passed through various hands. At the union of the crowns, it was +in the possession of Sir Robert Carey, (afterwards Earl of +Monmouth,) for his own life, and that of two of his sons. After +King James’s accession, Carey sold Norham Castle to George +Home, Earl of Dunbar, for L6000. See his curious Memoirs, +published by Mr. Constable of Edinburgh.<br> +<br> +‘According to Mr. Pinkerton, there is, in the British +Museum. Cal. B. 6. 216, a curious memoir of the Dacres on the +state of Norham Castle in 1522, not long after the battle of +Flodden. The inner ward, or keep, is represented as +impregnable:-“The provisions are three great vats of salt +eels, forty-four kine, three hogsheads of salted salmon, forty +quarters of grain, besides many cows and four hundred sheep, +lying under the castle-wall nightly; but a number of the arrows +wanted feathers, and a good <i>Fletcher</i> [i.e. maker of +arrows] was required.”-<i>History of Scotland</i>, vol. ii. +p. 201, note.<br> +<br> +‘The ruins of the castle are at present considerable, as +well as picturesque. They consist of a large shattered tower, +with many vaults, and fragments of other edifices, enclosed +within an outward wall of great circuit.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 4. battled</b> = embattled, furnished with battlements. +See Introd. to Canto V. line 90, and cp. Tennyson’s +‘Dream of Fair Women,’ line 220:-<br> +<br> + ‘The valleys of grape-loaded vines that glow<br> + Beneath the <i>battled tower</i>.’<br> +<br> + <b>the donjon keep</b>. ‘It is perhaps unnecessary to +remind my readers, that the <i>donjon</i>, in its proper +signification, means the strongest part of a feudal castle; a +high square tower, with walls of tremendous thickness, situated +in the centre of the other buildings, from which, however, it was +usually detached. Here, in case of the outward defences being +gained, the garrison retreated to make their last stand. The +donjon contained the great hall, and principal rooms of state for +solemn occasions, and also the prison of the fortress; from which +last circumstance we derive the modern and restricted use of the +word <i>dungeon</i>. Ducange (<i>voce</i> DUNJO) conjectures +plausibly, that the name is derived from these keeps being +usually built upon a hill, which in Celtic is called DUN. Borlase +supposes the word came from the darkness of the apartments in +these towers, which were thence figuratively called Dungeons; +thus deriving the ancient word from the modern application of +it.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 6. flanking walls</b>, walls protecting it on the sides. +Cp. the use of <i>flanked</i> in Dryden’s ‘Annus +Mirabilis’ xxvi;-<br> +<br> + ‘By the rich scent we found our perfumed prey,<br> + Which, <i>flanked</i> with rocks, did close in covert +lie.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza II. line 14. St. George’s banner</b>. St. +George’s red cross on a white field was the emblem on the +English national standard. Saint George is the legendary patron +saint who slew the dragon.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza III. line 29. Horncliff-hill</b> is one of the numerous +hillocks to the east of Norham. There is a village of the same +name.<br> +<br> + <b>A plump of spears</b>. Scott writes, ‘This word +applies to flight of water-fowl; but is applied by analogy to a +body of horse:-<br> +<br> + “There is a knight of the North Country,<br> + Which leads a lusty <i>plump</i> of spears.”<br> + <i>Flodden Field’<br> +<br> +</i><b>line 33. mettled</b>, same as metalled (mettle being a +variant of metall, spirited, ardent. So ‘mettled +hound’ in ‘Jock o’ Hazeldean.’ Cp. Julius +Caesar, iv. 2. 23:-<br> +<br> + ‘But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,<br> + Make gallant show and promise of their +<i>mettle</i>.’<br> +<br> +‘Metal’ in the same sense is frequent in Shakespeare. +See Meas. for Meas. i. I; Julius Caesar, i. 2; Hamlet, iii 2.<br> +<br> +<b>line 35. palisade</b> (Fr. <i>paliser</i>, to enclose with +pales), a firm row of stakes presenting a sharp point to an +advancing party.<br> +<br> +<b>line 38. hasted</b>, Elizabethanism = hastened. Cp. Merch. of +Venice, ii. 2. 104-‘Let it be so hasted that supper be +ready at the farthest by five of the clock.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 42. sewer</b>, taster; <b>squire</b>, knight’s +attendant; <b>seneschal</b>, steward. See ‘Lay of the Last +Minstrel,’ vi. 6, and note on Par. Lost, ix. 38, in +Clarendon Press Milton:-<br> +<br> + ‘Then marshalled feast<br> + Served up in hall with sewers, and seneschals.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IV. line 43. Malvoisie</b> = Malmsey, from Malvasia, +now Napoli di Malvasia, in the Morea.<br> +<br> +<b>line 55. portcullis</b>, a strong timber framework within the +gateway of a castle, let down in grooves and having iron spikes +at the bottom.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanzas V and VI. Marmion</b>, strenuous in arms and prudent +in counsel, has a kinship in spirit and achievement with the +Homeric heroes. Compare him also with the typical knight in +Chaucer’s Prologue and the Red Cross Knight at the opening +of the ‘Faerie Queene.’ Scott annotates ‘Milan +steel’ and the legend thus:-<br> +<br> +‘The artists of Milan were famous in the middle ages for +their skill in armoury, as appears from the following passage, in +which Froissart gives an account of the preparations made by +Henry, Earl of Hereford, afterwards Henry IV, and Thomas, Duke of +Norfolk, Earl Marischal, for their proposed combat in the lists +at Coventry:-”These two lords made ample provisions of all +things necessary for the combat; and the Earl of Derby sent off +messengers to Lombardy, to have armour from Sir Galeas, Duke of +Milan. The Duke complied with joy, and gave the knight, called +Sir Francis, who had brought the message, the choice of all his +armour for the Earl of Derby. When he had selected what he wished +for in plated and mail armour, the Lord of Milan, out of his +abundant love for the Earl, ordered four of the best armourers in +Milan to accompany the knight to England, that the Earl of Derby +might be more completely armed.”-JOHNES’ +<i>Froissart</i>, vol. iv. p.597.<br> +<br> +‘The crest and motto of Marmion are borrowed from the +following story:-<br> +<br> +Sir David de Lindsay, first Earl of Cranford, was, among other +gentlemen of quality, attended, during a visit to London in 1390, +by Sir William Dalzell, who was, according to my authority, +Bower, not only excelling in wisdom, but also of a lively wit. +Chancing to be at the Court, he there saw Sir Piers Conrtenay, an +English knight, famous for skill in tilting, and for the beauty +of his person, parading the palace, arrayed in a new mantle, +bearing for device an embroidered falcon, with this rhyme,-<br> +<br> + “I bear a falcon, fairest of night,<br> + Whoso pinches at her, his death is dight1<br> + In graith2.”<br> +-----------------------------------------------------<br> + 1prepared. 2armour.<br> +-----------------------------------------------------<br> +‘The Scottish knight, being a wag, appeared next day in a +dress exactly similar to that of Courtenay, but bearing a magpie +instead of the falcon, with a motto ingeniously contrived to +rhyme to the vaunting inscription of Sir Piers:-<br> +<br> + “I bear a pie picking at a piece,<br> + Whoso picks at her, I shall pick at his nese3,<br> + In faith.”<br> +-----------------------------------------------------<br> + 3nose<br> +-----------------------------------------------------<br> +‘This affront could only be expiated by a just with sharp +lances. In the course, Dalzell left his helmet unlaced, so that +it gave way at the touch of his antagonist’s lance, and he +thus avoided the shock of the encounter. This happened twice:-in +the third encounter, the handsome Courtenay lost two of his front +teeth. As the Englishman complained bitterly of Dalzell’s +fraud in not fastening his helmet, the Scottishman agreed to run +six courses more, each champion staking in the hand of the King +two hundred pounds, to be forfeited, if, on entering the lists, +any unequal advantage should be detected. This being agreed to, +the wily Scot demanded that Sir Piers, in addition to the loss of +his teeth, should consent to the extinction of one of his eyes, +he himself having lost an eye in the fight of Otterburn. As +Courtenay demurred to this equalisation of optical powers, +Dalzell demanded the forfeit; which, after much altercation, the +King appointed to be paid to him, saying, he surpassed the +English both in wit and valour. This must appear to the reader a +singular specimen of the humour of that time. I suspect the +Jockey Club would have given a different decision from Henry +IV.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 85-6</b>. ‘The arms of Marmion would be Vairee, a +fesse gules-a simple bearing, testifying to the antiquity of the +race. The badge was An ape passant argent, ringed and chained +with gold. The Marmions were the hereditary champions of +England. The office passed to the Dymokes, through marriage, in +the reign of Edward III.’-’Notes and Queries,’ +7th S. III. 37.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VII. line 95</b>. ‘The principal distinction +between the independent esquire (terming him such who was +attached to no knight’s service) and the knight was the +spurs, which the esquire might wear of silver, but by no means +gilded.’-Scott’s ‘Essay on Chivalry,’ +p.64.<br> +<br> +With the squire’s ‘courteous precepts’ compare +those of Chaucer’s squire in the Prologue,-<br> +<br> + ‘He cowde songes make and wel endite,<br> + Juste and eek daunce, and wel purtreye and write.<br> + . . .<br> + Curteys he was, lowely, and servysable,<br> + And carf byforn his fader at the table.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VIII. line 108. Him listed</b> is an Early English +form. Cp. Chaucer’s Prologue, 583,-<br> +<br> + ‘Or lyve as scarsly as <i>hym list</i> +desire.’<br> +<br> +In Elizabethan English, which retains many impersonal forms, +<i>list</i> is mainly used as a personal verb, as in Much Ado, +iii. 4,-<br> +<br> + ‘I am not such a fool to think what I +<i>list</i>,’<br> +<br> +and in John iii. 8, ‘The wind bloweth where it +listeth.’ Even then, however, it was sometimes used +impersonally, as in Surrey’s translation of AEneid ii. +1064,-<br> +<br> + ‘By sliding seas <i>me listed</i> them to +lede.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 116. Hosen</b> = hose, tight trousers reaching to the +knees. The form <i>hosen</i> is archaic, though it lingered +provincially in Scotland till modern times. For a standard use of +the word, see in A. V., Daniel iii. 21, ‘Then these men +were bound in their coats, their <i>hosen</i>, and their hats, +and their other garments.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 121</b>. The English archers under the Tudors were +famous. Holinshed specially mentions that at the battle of +Blackheath, in 1496, Dartford bridge was defended by archers +‘whose arrows were in length a full cloth yard.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IX. line 130</b>. morion (Sp. <i>morra</i>, the crown +of the head), a kind of helmet without a visor, frequently +surmounted with a crest, introduced into England about the +beginning of the sixteenth century.<br> +<br> +<b>line 134. linstock</b> (<i>lont</i>, a match, and <i>stok</i>, +a stick), ‘a gunner’s forked staff to hold a match of +lint dipped in saltpetre.’<br> +<br> + <b>yare</b>, ready; common as a nautical term. Cp. Tempest, i. +I. 6, ‘Cheerly, my hearts! Yare, yare!’ and see note +to Clarendon Press edition of the play.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza X. line 146</b>. The angel was a gold coin struck in +France in 1340, and introduced into England by Edward IV, 1465. +It varied in value from 6s. 8d, to 10s. The last struck in +England were in the reign of Charles I. The name was due to the +fact that on one side of the coin was a representation of the +Archangel Michael and the dragon (Rev. xii. 7). Used again, St. +xxv. below.<br> +<br> +<b>line 149. brook</b> (A. S. <i>brucan</i>, to use, eat, enjoy, +bear, discharge, fulfil), to use, handle, manage. Cp. Chaucer, +‘Nonnes Prestes Tale,’ line 479,--<br> +<br> + ‘So mote I <i>brouken</i> wel min eyen +twey,’<br> +<br> +and ‘Lady of the Lake,’ I. xxviii-<br> +<br> + ‘Whose stalwart arm might <i>brook</i> to wield<br> + A blade like this in battle-field. ‘<br> +<br> +For other meaning of the word see xiii. and xvi. below.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XI. line 151. Pursuivants</b>, attendants on the +heralds, their <i>tabard</i> being a sleeveless coat. Chaucer +applies the name to the loose frock of the ploughman (Prologue, +541). See Clarendon Press ed. of Chaucer’s Prologue, +&c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 152. scutcheon</b> = escutcheon, shield.<br> +<br> +<b>line 156</b>. ‘Lord Marmion, the principal character of +the present romance, is entirely a fictitious personage. In +earlier times, indeed, the family of Marmion, Lords of Fontenay, +in Normandy, was highly distinguished. Robert de Marmion, Lord +of Fontenay, a distinguished follower of the Conqueror, obtained +a grant of the castle and town of Tamworth, and also of the manor +of Scrivelby, in Lincolnshire. One, or both, of these noble +possessions was held by the honourable service of being the royal +champion, as the ancestors of Marmion had formerly been to the +Dukes of Normandy. But after the castle and demesne of Tamworth +had passed through four successive barons from Robert, the family +became extinct in the person of Philip de Marmion, who died in +20th Edward I without issue male. He was succeeded in his castle +of Tamworth by Alexander de Freville, who married Mazera, his +grand-daughter. Baldwin de Freville, Alexander’s +descendant, in the reign of Richard I, by the supposed tenure of +his castle of Tamworth, claimed the office of royal champion, and +to do the service appertaining; namely, on the day of coronation, +to ride, completely armed, upon a barbed horse, into Westminster +Hall, and there to challenge the combat against any who would +gainsay the King’s title. But this office was adjudged to +Sir John Dymoke, to whom the manor of Scrivelby had descended by +another of the co-heiresses of Robert de Marmion; and it remains +in that family, whose representative is Hereditary Champion of +England at the present day. The family and possessions of +Freville have merged in the Earls of Ferrars. I have not, +therefore, created a new family, but only revived the titles of +an old one in an imaginary personage.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +‘The last occasion on which the Champion officiated was at +the coronation of George IV.’-’Notes and +Queries,’ 7th S. III, 236.<br> +<br> +<b>line 161. mark</b>, a weight for gold and silver, differing in +amount in different countries. The English coin so called was +worth 13s. 4d. sterling.<br> +<br> +<b>line 163</b>. ‘This was the cry with which heralds and +pursuivants were wont to acknowledge the bounty received from the +knights. Stewart of Lorn distinguishes a ballad, in which he +satirises the narrowness of James V and his courtiers by the +ironical burden-<br> +<br> + <i>“Lerges, lerges, lerges, hay,<br> + Lerges of this new year day.<br> + </i> First lerges of the King, my chief,<br> + Quhilk come als quiet as a theif,<br> + And in my hand slid schillingis tway1,<br> + To put his lergnes to the preif2,<br> + For lerges of this new-yeir day.”<br> +<br> + 1two 2proof<br> +<br> +‘The heralds, like the minstrels, were a race allowed to +have great claims upon the liberality of the knights, of whose +feats they kept a record, and proclaimed them aloud, as in the +text, upon suitable occasions.<br> +<br> +‘At Berwick, Norham, and other Border fortresses of +importance, pursuivants usually resided, whose inviolable +character rendered them the only persons that could, with perfect +assurance of safety, be sent on necessary embassies into +Scotland. This is alluded to in Stanza xxi. p. +25.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 165. Blazon’d shield</b>, a shield with a coat of +arms painted on it, especially with bearings quartered in +commemoration of victory in battle. See below V. xv, VI. +xxxviii, and cp. Tennyson, ‘The Lady of Shalott,’ +Part 3:-<br> +<br> + ‘And from his blazon’d baldric slung<br> + A mighty silver bugle hung.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 174</b>. The Cotswold downs, Gloucestershire, were famous +as a hunting-ground. Cp. Merry Wives of Windsor, I. i. 92, +‘How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I heard say he was +outrun on Cotsall.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 185</b>. The reversed shield, hung on the gallows, +indicated the degraded knight.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIII. line 192</b>. Scott writes:-‘Were accuracy +of any consequence in a fictitious narrative, this +castellan’s name ought to have been William; for William +Heron of Ford was husband to the famous Lady Ford, whose syren +charms are said to have cost our James IV so dear. Moreover, the +said William Heron was, at the time supposed, a prisoner in +Scotland, being surrendered by Henry VIII, on account of his +share in the slaughter of Sir Robert Ker of Cessford. His wife, +represented in the text as residing at the Court of Scotland, +was, in fact, living in her own castle at Ford.-See Sir RICHARD +HERON’S curious <i>Genealogy of the Heron +Family</i>.’<br> +<br> +Ford Castle is about a mile to the north-east of Flodden Hill. It +was repaired in 1761 in accordance with the style of the original +architecture. Latterly the owner, the Countess of Waterford, +utilizing the natural beauty of the property, has enhanced its +value and its interest by improvements exhibiting not only +exquisite taste but a true philanthropic spirit. It was at Ford +Castle that James IV spent the night preceding the battle of +Flodden.<br> +<br> +<b>line 195. Deas</b>, dais, or chief seat on the platform at the +upper end of the hall.<br> +<br> +<b>line 200</b>. Scott mentions in a note that his friend, R. +Surtees, of Mainsforth, had taken down this ballad from the lips +of an old woman, who said it used ‘to be sung at the +merry-makings.’ He likewise gave it a place in the +‘Border Minstrelsy.’ These things being so, it is +unpleasant to learn from Lockhart that ‘the ballad here +quoted was the production of Mr. R. Surtees, and palmed off by +him upon Scott as a genuine relic of antiquity. ‘The title +of the ballad in the ‘Border Minstrelsy’ is +‘The Death of Featherstonhaugh.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 203</b>. ‘Hardriding Dick is not an epithet +referring to horsemanship, but means Richard Ridley of +Hardriding.’-SCOTT. The families named all belonged to the +north and north-east of Northumberland. Scott adds (from +Surtees), ‘A feud did certainly exist between the Ridleys +and Featherstons, productive of such consequences as the ballad +narrates.’ In regard to the ‘Northern harper,’ +see Prof. Minto’s ‘Lay of the Last Minstrel,’ +p. 121.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XV. line 231. wassail-bowl</b>. ‘Wassell’ +or ‘wassail’ (A. S. <i>waes hael</i>) was first the +wish of health, then it came to denote festivity (especially at +Christmas). As an adj. it is compounded not only with bowl, but +with cup, candle, &c. Cp. Comus, line 179:-<br> +<br> + ‘I should be loth<br> + To meet the rudeness and swill’d insolence<br> + Of such late <i>wassailers</i>.’<br> +<br> +Cp. also note on ‘gossip’s bowl’ of Midsummer +Night’s Dream, ii. I. 47, in Clarendon Press edition, and +Prof. Minto’s ‘Lay of the Last Minstrel,’ p. +174.<br> +<br> +<b>line 232</b>. Cp. Iliad i. 470, and ix. 175, and +Chapman’s translation, ‘The youths <i>crowned</i> +cups of wine.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 238</b>. Raby Castle, in the county of Durham, the +property of the Duke of Cleveland.<br> +<br> +<b>line 254</b>. As a page in a lady’s chamber. +‘Bower’ is often contrasted with ‘hall,’ +as in ‘Jock o’ Hazeldean’:-<br> +<br> + ‘They socht her baith by bower an’ +ha’.’<br> +<br> +Cp. below, 281.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVI. line 264</b>. For Lindisfarn, or Holy Island, see +note to Canto II. St. i.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVII. line 284. leash</b>, the cord by which the +greyhound is restrained till the moment when he is slipt in +pursuit of the game. Cp. Coriolanus, i. 6. 38:-<br> +<br> + ‘Even like a fawning greyhound in the +leash.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVIII. line 289. bide</b>, abide. Cp. above, 215.<br> +<br> +<b>line 294. pray you</b> = I pray you. Cp. +‘Prithee,’ so common in Elizabethan drama.<br> +<br> +<b>line 298</b>. Scott annotates as follows:<br> +<br> +‘The story of Perkin Warbeck, or Richard, Duke of York, is +well known. In 1496, he was received honourably in Scotland; and +James IV, after conferring upon him in marriage his own relation, +the Lady Catharine Gordon, made war on England in behalf of his +pretensions. To retaliate an invasion of England, Surrey +advanced into Berwickshire at the head of considerable forces, +but retreated, after taking the inconsiderable fortress of Ayton. +Ford, in his Dramatic Chronicle of Perkin Warbeck, makes the most +of this inroad:-<br> +<br> + “SURREY.<br> +<br> + “Are all our braving enemies shrunk back,<br> + Hid in the fogges of their distemper’d climate,<br> + Not daring to behold our colours wave<br> + In spight of this infected ayre? Can they<br> + Looke on the strength of Cundrestine defac’t;<br> + The glorie of Heydonhall devasted: that<br> + Of Edington cast downe; the pile of Fulden<br> + Orethrowne: And this, the strongest of their forts,<br> + Old Ayton Castle, yeelded and demolished,<br> + And yet not peepe abroad? The Scots are bold,<br> + Hardie in battayle, but it seems the cause<br> + They undertake considered, appeares<br> + Unjoynted in the frame on’t”.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 301</b>. Ayton is on the Eye, a little above Eyemouth, in +Berwickshire.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIX. line 305</b>. ‘The garrisons of the English +castles of Wark, Norham, and Berwick were, as may be easily +supposed, very troublesome neighbours to Scotland. Sir Richard +Maitland of Ledington wrote a poem, called “The Blind +Baron’s Comfort,” when his barony of Blythe, in +Lauderdale, was <i>harried</i> by Rowland Foster, the English +captain of Wark, with his company, to the number of 300 men. They +spoiled the poetical knight of 5000 sheep, 200 nolt, 30 horses +and mares; the whole furniture of his house of Blythe, worth 100 +pounds Scots (L8. 6s. 8d.), and every thing else that was +portable. “This spoil was committed the 16th day of May, +1570, (and the said Sir Richard was threescore and fourteen years +of age, and grown blind,) in time of peace; when nane of that +country <i>lippened</i> [expected] such a +thing.”-”The Blind Baron’s Comfort” +consists in a string of puns on the word <i>Blythe</i>, the name +of the lands thus despoiled. Like John Littlewit, he had “a +conceit left him in his misery-a miserable conceit.”<br> +<br> +‘The last line of the text contains a phrase, by which the +Borderers jocularly intimated the burning a house. When the +Maxwells, in 1685, burned the castle of Lochwood, they said they +did so to give the Lady Johnstone “light to set her +hood.” Nor was the phrase inapplicable; for, in a letter, +to which I have mislaid the reference, the Earl of Northumberland +writes to the King and Council, that he dressed himself at +midnight, at Warkworth, by the blaze of the neighbouring villages +burned by the Scottish marauders.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXI. line 332</b>. Bp. Pudsey, in 1154, restored the +castle and added the donjon. See Jemingham’s ‘Norham +Castle,’ v. 87.<br> +<br> +<b>line 341. too well in case</b>, in too good condition, too +stout. For a somewhat similar meaning of case, see Tempest, iii. +2. 25:-<br> +<br> + ‘I am in case to justle a constable.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 342</b>. Scott here refers to Holinshed’s account +of Welsh, the vicar of St. Thomas of Exeter, a leader among the +Cornish insurgents in 1549:-<br> +<br> +‘“This man,” says Holinshed, “had many +good things in him. He was of no great stature, but well set, and +mightilie compact. He was a very good wrestler; shot well, both +in the long-bow, and also in the cross-bow; he handled his +hand-gun and peece very well; he was a very good woodman, and a +hardie, and such a one as would not give his head for the +polling, or his beard for the washing. He was a companion in any +exercise of activitie, and of a courteous and gentle behaviour. +He descended of a good honest parentage, being borne at +Peneverin, in Cornwall; and yet, in this rebellion, an +arch-captain, and a principal doer.”-Vol. iv. p. 958, 4to +edition. This model of clerical talents had the misfortune to be +hanged upon the steeple of his own church.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +‘The reader,’ Lockhart adds, ‘needs hardly to +be reminded of Ivanhoe.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 349</b>. Cp. Chaucer’s friar in Prologue, line +240:-<br> +<br> + ‘He knew wel the tavernes in every toun,’ +&c.<br> +<br> +The character and adventures of Friar John owe something both to +the ‘Canterbury Tales’ and to a remarkable poem, +probably Dunbar’s, entitled ‘The Friars of +Berwick.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 354</b>. St. Bede’s day in the Calendar is May 27. +See below, line 410.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXII. line 372. tables</b>, backgammon.<br> +<br> +<b>line 387. fay</b> = faith, word of honour. See below 454, and +cp. Hamlet, ii. 2. 271, ‘By my fay, I cannot +reason.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIII. line 402</b>. St. James or Santiago of Spain. +Cp. ‘Piers the Plowman,’ i. 48 (with Prof. +Skeat’s note), Chaucer’s Prologue, 465, and +Southey’s ‘Pilgrim to Compostella,’ valuable +both for its poetic beauty and its ample notes. In regard to the +cockleshell, Southey gives some important information in extracts +from ‘Anales de Galicia,’ and he says-<br> +<br> + ‘For the scallop shows in a coat of arms<br> + That of the bearer’s line.<br> + Some one, in former days, hath been<br> + To Santiago’s shrine.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 403. Montserrat</b>, a mountain, with a Benedictine abbey +on it, in Catalonia. The inhabitants of the neighbourhood cherish +a myth to the effect that the fantastic peaks and gorges of the +mountain were formed at the Crucifixion.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 404-7</b>. Scott annotates as follows:-<br> +<br> +‘Sante Rosalie was of Palermo, and born of a very noble +family, and, when very young, abhorred so much the vanities of +this world, and avoided the converse of mankind, resolving to +dedicate herself wholly to God Almighty, that she, by divine +inspiration, forsook her father’s house, and never was more +heard of, till her body was found in that cleft of a rock, on +that almost inaccessible mountain, where now the chapel is built; +and they affirm she was carried up there by the hands of angels; +for that place was not formerly so accessible (as now it is) in +the days of the Saint; and even now it is a very bad, and steepy, +and break-neck way. In this frightful place, this holy woman +lived a great many years, feeding only on what she found growing +on that barren mountain, and creeping into a narrow and dreadful +cleft in a rock, which was always dropping wet, and was her place +of retirement, as well as prayer; having worn out even the rock +with her knees, in a certain place, which is now open’d on +purpose to show it to those who come here. This chapel is very +richly adorn’d; and on the spot where the saint’s +dead body was discover’d, which is just beneath the hole in +the rock, which is open’d on purpose, as I said, there is a +very fine statue of marble, representing her in a lying posture, +railed in all about with fine iron and brass work; and the altar, +on which they say mass, is built just over it.’-<i>Voyage +to Sicily and Malta</i>, by Mr. John Dryden, (son to the poet,) +p. 107.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIV. line 408</b>. The national motto is ‘St. +George for Merrie England.’ The records of various central +and eastern English towns tell of a very ancient custom of +‘carrying the dragon in procession, in great jollity, on +Midsummer Eve.’ See Brand’s ‘Popular +Antiquities,’ i. 321. In reference to the ‘Birth of +St George’ and his deeds, see Percy’s +‘Reliques.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 409</b>. Becket (1119-70), Archbishop of Canterbury. See +‘Canterbury Tales’ and Aubrey de Vere’s +‘St. Thomas of Canterbury: a dramatic poem.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 410</b>. For Cuthbert, see below, II. xiv. 257. Bede +(673-735), a monk of Jarrow on Tyne; called the Venerable Bede; +author of an important ‘Ecclesiastical History’ and +an English translation of St. John’s Gospel.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 419-20</b>. Lord Jeffrey’s sense of humour was not +adequate to the appreciation of these two lines, which he +specialised for condemnation.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza. XXV. line 421. Gramercy</b>, from Fr. <i>grand +merci</i>, sometimes used as an emphatic exclamation, although +fundamentally implying the thanks of the speaker.<br> +<br> +<b>line 430 still</b> = always. Cp., <i>inter alia</i>, 440 and +452 below. See ‘<i>still</i> vexed Bermoothes,’ +Tempest, i. 2. 229, and cp. Hamlet, ii. 2. 42,-<br> +<br> + ‘Thou <i>still</i> hast been the father of good +news.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVI. line 452</b>. Scott quotes from Rabelais the +passage in which the monk suggests to Gargantua that in order to +induce sleep they might together try the repetition of the seven +penitential psalms. ‘The conceit pleased Gargantua very +well; and, beginning the first of these psalms, as soon as they +came to <i>Beati quorum</i> they fell asleep, both the one and +the other.’ Cp. Chaucer’s Monk and the character of +Accidia in ‘Piers the Plowman,’ Passus V.<br> +<br> +<b>line 453. ave</b>, an address to the Virgin Mary, beginning +‘Ave Maria’; <b>creed</b>, a profession of faith, +beginning with <i>Credo</i>. It has been objected to this line +that the creed is not an essential part of the rosary, and that +ten aves and one paternoster would have been more accurate. It +should, however, be noticed that both Friar John and young Selby +know more of other matters than the details of religious +devotion.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVII. line 459</b>. ‘A <i>Palmer</i>, opposed to +a <i>Pilgrim</i>, was one who made it his sole business to visit +different holy shrines; travelling incessantly, and subsisting by +charity: whereas the Pilgrim retired to his usual home and +occupations, when he had paid his devotions at the particular +spot which was the object of his pilgrimage. The Palmers seem to +have been the <i>Quaestionarii</i> of the ancient Scottish canons +1242 and 1296. There is in the Bannatyne MS. a burlesque account +of two such persons, entitled, “Simmy and his +Brother.” Their accoutrements are thus ludicrously +described (I discard the ancient spelling):-<br> +<br> + “Syne shaped them up, to loup on leas,<br> + Two tabards of the tartan;<br> + They counted nought what their clouts were<br> + When sew’d them on, in certain.<br> + Syne clampit up St. Peter’s keys,<br> + Made of an old red gartane;<br> + St. James’s shells, on t’other side, shews<br> + As pretty as a partane<br> + Toe,<br> + On Symmye and his brother.”‘-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +With this account of the Palmer, cp. ‘Piers the +Plowman,’ v. 523:-<br> +<br> + ‘He bare a burdoun ybounde with a brode liste,<br> + In a withewyndes wise ywounden aboute.<br> + A bolle and a bagge he bare by his syde;<br> + An hundredth of ampulles on his hatt seten,<br> + Signes of Synay and shelles of Galice;<br> + And many a cruche on his cloke and keyes of Rome,<br> + And the vernicle bifore for men shulde knowe,<br> + And se bi his signes whom he soughte hadde.’<br> +<br> +In connexion with this, Prof. Skeat draws attention to the +romance of Sir Isumbras and to Chaucer’s Prol. line 13.<br> +<br> +<b>line 467</b>. Loretto, in Ancona, Italy, is the site of a +sanctuary of the Virgin, entitled <i>Santa Casa</i>, Holy House, +which enjoys the reputation of having been the Virgin’s +residence in Nazareth, and the scene of the Annunciation, +&c.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVIII. line 483. haggard wild</b> is a twofold adj. in +the Elizabethan fashion, like ‘bitter sweet,’ +‘childish foolish,’ and other familiar examples.<br> +<br> +<b>line 490</b>. Science appears to support this theory. See +various examples in Sir Erasmus Wilson’s little work, +‘Healthy Skin.’ Many of the cases are within the +writer’s own knowledge, and all the others are historical +or otherwise well authenticated. He mentions Sir T. More the +night before his execution; two cases reported by Borellus; three +by Daniel Turner; one by Dr. Cassan; and in a note he recalls +John Libeny, a would-be assassin of the Emperor of Austria, +‘whose hair turned snow-white in the forty-eight hours +preceding his execution.’ See ‘Notes and +Queries,’ 6th S. vols. vi. to ix., and 7th S. ii. Not only +fear but sorrow is said to cause the hair to turn white very +suddenly. Byron makes his Prisoner of Chillon say that his white +hairs have not come to him<br> +<br> + ‘In a single night,<br> + As men’s have grown from sudden fears.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIX. line 506</b>. ‘St. Regulus +(<i>Scottice</i>, St. Rule), a monk of Patrae, in Achaia, warned +by a vision, is said, A. D. 370, to have sailed westward, until +he landed at St. Andrews, in Scotland, where he founded a chapel +and tower. The latter is still standing; and, though we may doubt +the precise date of its foundation, is certainly one of the most +ancient edifices in Scotland. A cave, nearly fronting the ruinous +castle of the Archbishops of St. Andrews, bears the name of this +religion person. It is difficult of access; and the rock in which +it is hewed is washed by the German Ocean. It is nearly round, +about ten feet in diameter, and the same in height. On one side +is a sort of stone altar; on the other an aperture into an inner +den, where the miserable ascetic, who inhabited this dwelling, +probably slept. At full tide, egress and regress are hardly +practicable. As Regulus first colonised the metropolitan see of +Scotland, and converted the inhabitants in the vicinity, he has +some reason to complain that the ancient name of Killrule +(<i>Cella Reguli</i>) should have been superseded, even in favour +of the tutelar saint of Scotland. The reason of the change was, +that St. Rule is said to have brought to Scotland the relics of +Saint Andrew.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 509</b>. ‘St. Fillan was a Scottish saint of some +reputation. Although Popery is, with us, matter of abomination, +yet the common people still retain some of the superstitions +connected with it. There are in Perthshire several wells and +springs dedicated to St. Fillan, which are still places of +pilgrimage and offerings, even among the Protestants. They are +held powerful in cases of madness; and, in some of very late +occurrence, lunatics have been left all night bound to the holy +stone, in confidence that the saint would cure and unloose them +before morning. [See various notes to the Minstrelsy of the +Scottish Border.]’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 513</b>. Cp. Macbeth, v. 3. 40:-<br> +<br> + ‘Canst thou not minister to a mind +diseased?’<br> +<br> +and Lear, iii. 4. 12:-<br> +<br> + ‘The tempest in my mind<br> + Doth from my senses take all feeling else<br> + Save what beats there.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXX. line 515</b>. With ‘midnight draught,’ +cp. Macbeth’s ‘drink,’ ii. 1. 31, and the +‘posset,’ ii. 2. 6. See notes to these passages in +Clarendon Press Macbeth.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXI. line 534</b>. ‘In Catholic countries, in +order to reconcile the pleasures of the great with the +observances of religion, it was common, when a party was bent for +the chase, to celebrate mass, abridged and maimed of its rites, +called a hunting-mass, the brevity of which was designed to +correspond with the impatience of the audience.’-Note to +‘The Abbot,’ new edition.<br> +<br> +<b>line 538</b>. Stirrup-cup, or stirrup-glass, is a +parting-glass of liquor given to a guest when on horseback and +ready to go.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND</b>.<br> +<br> +The Rev. John Marriott, A. M., to whom this introductory poem is +dedicated, was tutor to George Henry, Lord Scott, son of Charles, +Earl of Dalkeith, afterwards fourth Duke of Buccleuch and sixth +of Queensberry. Lord Scott died early, in 1808. Marriott, while +still at Oxford, proved himself a capable poet, and Scott shewed +his appreciation of him by including two of his ballads at the +close of the ‘Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.’ The +concluding lines of this Introduction refer to Marriott’s +ballads.<br> +<br> +<b>line 2</b>. ‘Ettrick Forest, now a range of mountainous +sheep-walks, was anciently reserved for the pleasure of the royal +chase. Since it was disparked, the wood has been, by degrees, +almost totally destroyed, although, wherever protected from the +sheep, copses soon arise without any planting. When the King +hunted there, he often summoned the array of the country to meet +and assist his sport. Thus, in 1528, James V “made +proclamation to all lords, barons, gentlemen, landward-men, and +freeholders, that they should compear at Edinburgh, with a +month’s victuals, to pass with the King where he pleased, +to danton the thieves of Tiviotdale, Annandale, Liddisdale, and +other parts of that country; and also warned all gentlemen that +had good dogs to bring them, that he might hunt in the said +country as he pleased: The whilk the Earl of Argyle, the Earl of +Huntley, the Earl of Athole, and so all the rest of the gentlemen +of the Highland, did, and brought their hounds with them in like +manner, to hunt with the King, as he pleased.<br> +<br> +‘“The second day of June the King past out of +Edinburgh to the hunting, with many of the nobles and gentlemen +of Scotland with him, to the number of twelve thousand men; and +then past to Meggitland, and hounded and hawked all the country +and bounds; that is to say, Crammat, Pappert-law, St. Mary-laws, +Carlavirick, Chapel, Ewindoores, and Langhope. I heard say, he +slew, in these bounds, eighteen score of harts.” +PITSCOTTIE’S <i>History of Scotland</i>, folio edition, p. +143.<br> +<br> +‘These huntings had, of course, a military character, and +attendance upon them was part of the duty of a vassal. The act +for abolishing ward or military tenures in Scotland, enumerates +the services of hunting, hosting, watching and warding, as those +which were in future to be illegal.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 5-11</b>. Cp. Wordsworth’s +‘Thorn’:-<br> +<br> + ‘There is a Thorn-it looks so old,<br> + In truth, you’d find it hard to say<br> + How it could ever have been young,<br> + It looks so old and grey.’<br> +<br> +There is a special suggestion of antiquity in the wrinkled, +lichen-covered thorn of a wintry landscape, and thus it is a +fitting object to stir and sustain the poet’s tendency to +note ‘chance and change’ and to lament the loss of +the days that are no more. The exceeding appropriateness of this +in a narrative poem dealing with departed habits and customs must +be quite apparent. The thorn grows to a very great age, and many +an unpretentious Scottish homestead receives a pathetic grace and +dignity from the presence of its ancestral thorn-tree.<br> +<br> +<b>line 15</b>. The rowan is the mountain ash. One of the most +tender and haunting of Scottish songs is Lady Nairne’s +‘Oh, Rowan tree!’-<br> +<br> + ‘How fair wert thou in summer time, wi’ a’ +thy clusters white,<br> + How rich and gay thy autumn dress, wi’ berries red +and bright.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 27</b>. There are some notable allusions in the poets to +the moonlight baying of dogs and wolves. Cp. Julius Caesar, iv. +3. 27:-<br> +<br> + ‘I had rather be a dog and bay the moon.’<br> +<br> +See also Shield’s great English song, ‘The +Wolf’:-<br> +<br> + ‘While the wolf, in nightly prowl,<br> + Bays the moon with hideous howl!’<br> +<br> +One of the best lines in English verse on the wolf-both skilfully +onomatopoeic and suggestively picturesque-is Campbell’s, +line 66 of ‘Pleasures of Hope’:-<br> +<br> + ‘The wolf’s long howl from Oonalaska’s +shore.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 30</b>. Cp. the movement of this line with line 3 in +‘Sang of the Outlaw Murray’:-<br> +<br> + ‘There’s hart and hynd, and dae and +rae.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 31</b>. ‘Grene wode’ is a phrase of the +‘Robyn Hode Ballads.’ Cp.:--<br> +<br> + ‘She set her on a gode palfray,<br> + To <i>grene wode</i> anon rode she.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 32</b>. The ruins of Newark Castle are above the +confluence of the Ettrick and the Yarrow, on the latter river, +and a few miles from Selkirk. Close by is Bowhill, mentioned +below, 73. See Prof. Minto’s ‘Lay of the Last +Minstrel’ (Clarendon Press), pp. 122-3. In the days of the +‘last minstrel’ it was appropriate to describe this +‘riven’ relic as ‘Newark’s stately +tower.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 33</b>. James II built Newark as a fortress.<br> +<br> +<b>line 41</b>. The gazehound or greyhound hunts by sight, not +scent. The Encyclopedic Dictionary quotes Tickell ‘On +Hunting’:-<br> +<br> + ‘See’st thou the <i>gazehound!</i> how with +glance severe<br> + From the close herd he marks the destined deer.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 42</b>. ‘Bratchet, slowhound.’-SCOTT. The +older spelling is brachet (from <i>brach</i> or <i>brache</i>), +as:-<br> +<br> + ‘<i>Brachetes</i> bayed that best, as bidden the +maystarez.’<br> + <i>Sir Gaw. and the Green +Knyght</i>, 1603.<br> +<br> +In contrast with the gazehound the brachet hunts by scent.<br> +<br> +<b>line 44</b>. Cp. Julius Caesar, iii. I. 273, ‘Let slip +the dogs of war.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 48</b>. Harquebuss, arquebus, or hagbut, a heavy musket. +Cp. below, V. 54.<br> +<br> +<b>line 49</b>. Cp. Dryden’s ‘Alexander’s +Feast,’ ‘The vocal hills reply.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 54</b>. Yarrow stream is the ideal scene of Border +romance. See the Border Minstrelsy, and cp. the works of Hamilton +of Bangour, John Leyden, Wordsworth’s Yarrow poems, the +poems of the Ettrick Shepherd, Prof. Veitch, and Principal +Shairp. John Logan’s ‘Braes of Yarrow’ also +deserves special mention, and many singers of Scottish song know +Scott Riddell’s ‘Dowie Dens o’ +Yarrow.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 61. Holt</b>, an Anglo-Saxon word for wood or grove, has +been a favourite with poet’s since Chaucer’s +employment of it (Prol. 6):-<br> +<br> + ‘Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breethe<br> + Enspired hath in every <i>holte</i> and heethe<br> + The tendre croppes.’<br> +<br> +See Dr. Morris’s Glossary to Chaucer’s Prologue, +&c. (Clarendon Press).<br> +<br> +<b>line 68</b>. Cp. Wordsworth’s two Matthew poems, +‘The Two April Mornings’ and ‘The +Fountain’; also Matthew Arnold’s +‘Thyrsis’-<br> +<br> + ‘Too rare, too rare grow now my visits here!<br> + But once I knew each field, each flower, each stick;<br> + And with the country-folk acquaintance made<br> + By barn in threshing-time, by new-built rick,<br> + Here, too, our shepherd-pipes we first +assay’d.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 82</b>. Janet in the ballad of ‘The Young +Tamlane’ in the Border Minstrelsy. The dissertation Scott +prefixed to this ballad is most interesting and valuable.<br> +<br> +<b>line 84</b>. See above, note on Rev. J. Marriott.<br> +<br> +<b>line 85</b>. Scott was sheriff-substitute of Selkirkshire. As +the law requires residence within the limits of the sheriffdom, +Scott dwelt at Ashestiel at least four months of every year. +Prof. Veitch, in his descriptive poem ‘The Tweed,’ +writes warmly on Ashestiel, as Scott’s residence in his +happiest time:-<br> +<br> + ‘Sweet Ashestiel! that peers ‘mid woody +braes,<br> + And lists the ripple of Glenkinnon’s rill-<br> + Fair girdled by Tweed’s ampler gleaming wave-<br> + His well loved home of early happy days,<br> + Ere noon of Fame, and ere dark Ruin’s eve,<br> + When life lay unrevealed, with hopeful thrill<br> + Of all that might be in the reach of powers<br> + Whose very flow was a continued joy-<br> + Strong-rushing as the dawn, and fresh and fair<br> + In outcome as that morning of the world,<br> + Which gilded all his kindled fancy’s +dream!’<br> +<br> +<b>line 88</b>. Harriet, Countess of Dalkeith, afterwards Duchess +of Buccleuch. A suggestion of hers led to the composition of the +‘Lay of the Last Minstrel.’ See Prof. Minto’s +Introduction to Clarendon Press edition of the poem, p. 8.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 90-93</b>. ‘These lines were not in the original +MS.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 106</b>. ‘The late Alexander Pringle, Esq., of +Whytbank-whose beautiful seat of the Yair stands on the Tweed, +about two miles below Ashestiel.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 108</b>. ‘The sons of Mr. Pringle of +Whytbank.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 113</b>. Cp. VI. 611, below.<br> +<br> +<b>line 115</b>. ‘There is, on a high mountainous ridge +above the farm of Ashestiel, a fosse called Wallace’s +Trench.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 124</b>. Cp. Gray’s ‘Ode on a Distant +Prospect of Eton College,’ especially lines 6l-2:-<br> +<br> + ‘These shall the fury Passions tear,<br> + The vultures of the mind.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 126-33</b>. Cp. Wordsworth variously, particularly in +the Matthew poems, the Ode on Intimations of Immortality, and +Tintern Abbey, especially in its last twenty-five lines:-<br> +<br> + ‘Therefore let the moon<br> + Shine on thee in thy solitary walk,’ &c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 143</b>. Cp. I Kings xix. 12.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 147-73</b>. ‘This beautiful sheet of water forms +the reservoir from which the Yarrow takes its source. It is +connected with a smaller lake, called the Loch of the Lowes, and +surrounded by mountains. In the winter, it is still frequented by +flights of wild swans; hence my friend Mr. Wordsworth’s +lines:-<br> +<br> + “The swan on sweet St. Mary’s lake<br> + Floats double, swan and shadow.”<br> +<br> +Near the lower extremity of the lake are the ruins of Dryhope +tower, the birth-place of Mary Scott, daughter of Philip Scott of +Dryhope, and famous by the traditional name of the Flower of +Yarrow. She was married to Walter Scott of Harden, no less +renowned for his depredations than his bride for her beauty. Her +romantic appellation was, in latter days, with equal justice, +conferred on Miss Mary Lilias Scott, the last of the elder branch +of the Harden family. The author well remembers the talent and +spirit of the latter Flower of Yarrow, though age had then +injured the charms which procured her the name. The words usually +sung to the air of “Tweedside,” beginning “What +beauties does Flora disclose,” were composed in her +honour.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +Quoting from memory, Scott gives ‘sweet’ for +<i>still</i> in Wordsworth’s lines. Mr. Aubrey de Vere, in +‘Essays Chiefly on Poetry,’ ii. 277, reports an +interview with Wordsworth, in which the poet, referring to St. +Mary’s Lake, says: ‘The scene when I saw it, with its +still and dim lake, under the dusky hills, was one of utter +loneliness; there was one swan, and one only, stemming the water, +and the pathetic loneliness of the region gave importance to the +one companion of that swan-its own white image in the +water.’ For a criticism, deeply sympathetic and +appreciative, of Scott’s description of St. Mary’s +Loch in calm, see Prof. Veitch’s ‘Feeling for Nature +in Scottish Poetry,’ ii. 196. The scene remains very much +what it was in Scott’s time, ‘notwithstanding that +the hand of the Philistine,’ says Prof. Veitch, ‘has +set along the north shore of St. Mary’s, as far as his +power extended, a strip of planting.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 177</b>. ‘The chapel of St. Mary of the Lowes +{<i>de lacubus</i>} was situated on the eastern side of the lake, +to which it gives name. It was injured by the clan of Scott, in a +feud with the Cranstouns; but continued to be a place of worship +during the seventeenth century. The vestiges of the building can +now scarcely be traced; but the burial-ground is still used as a +cemetery. A funeral, in a spot so very retired, has an uncommonly +striking effect. The vestiges of the chaplain’s house are +yet visible. Being in a high situation, it commanded a full view +of the lake, with the opposite mountain of Bourhope, belonging, +with the lake itself, to Lord Napier. On the left hand is the +tower of Dryhope, mentioned in a preceding +note.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 187</b>. See ‘Il Penseroso,’ line 167.<br> +<br> +<b>line 197</b>. Cp. Thomson’s ‘Winter,’ line +66:-<br> +<br> + ‘Along the woods, along the moorish fens,<br> + Sighs the sad genius of the coming storm;<br> + And up among the loose disjointed cliffs,<br> + And fractured mountains wild, the brawling brook<br> + And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan,<br> + Resounding long in listening fancy’s ear.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 204</b>. ‘At one corner of the burial-ground of the +demolished chapel, but without its precincts, is a small mound, +called <i>Binrams Corse</i>, where tradition deposits the remains +of a necromantic priest, the former tenant of the chaplainry. His +story much resembles that of Ambrosio in “The Monk,” +and has been made the theme of a ballad by my friend Mr. James +Hogg, more poetically designed the <i>Ettrick Shepherd</i>. To +his volume, entitled “The Mountain Bard,” which +contains this, and many other legendary stories and ballads of +great merit, I refer the curious reader.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 239</b>. ‘Loch-skene is a mountain lake, of +considerable size, at the head of the Moffat-water. The character +of the scenery is uncommonly savage; and the earn, or Scottish +eagle, has, for many ages, built its nest yearly upon an islet in +the lake. Loch-skene discharges itself into a brook, which, after +a short and precipitate course, falls from a cataract of immense +height and gloomy grandeur, called, from its appearance, the +“Grey Mare’s Tail.” The “Giant’s +Grave,” afterwards mentioned, is a sort of trench, which +bears that name, a little way from the foot of the cataract. It +has the appearance of a battery designed to command the +pass.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +Cp. ‘Loch Skene,’ a descriptive and meditative poem +by Thomas Tod Stoddart, well known as poet and angler on the +Borders during the third quarter of the nineteenth century:-<br> +<br> + ‘Like a pillar of Parian stone,<br> + That in some old temple shone,<br> + Or a slender shaft of living star,<br> + Gleams that foam-fall from afar;<br> + But the column is melted down below<br> + Into a gulf of seething snow,<br> + And the stream steals away from its whirl of hoar,<br> + As bright and as lovely as before.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO SECOND</b>.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 1-6</b>. The earlier editions have a period at the end +of line 5, and neither Scott himself nor Lockhart changed that +punctuation. But, undoubtedly, the first sentence ends with line +11, ‘roll’d’ in the second line being a part, +and not a finite verb. Mr. Rolfe is the first to punctuate the +passage thus.<br> +<br> +<b>line 9</b>. ‘The Abbey of Whitby, in the Archdeaconry of +Cleaveland, on the coast of Yorkshire, was founded A. D. 657, in +consequence of a vow of Oswy, King of Northumberland. It +contained both monks and nuns of the Benedictine order; but, +contrary to what was usual in such establishments, the abbess was +superior to the abbot. The monastery was afterwards mined by the +Danes, and rebuilded by William Percy, in the reign of the +Conqueror. There were no nuns there in Henry the Eighth’s +time, nor long before it. The ruins of Whitby Abbey are very +magnificent.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 10</b>. ‘Lindisfarne, an isle on the coast of +Northumberland, was called Holy Island, from the sanctity of its +ancient monastery, and from its having been the episcopal seat of +the see of Durham during the early ages of British Christianity. +A succession of holy men held that office: but their merits were +swallowed up in the superior fame of St. Cuthbert, who was sixth +bishop of Durham, and who bestowed the name of his +“patrimony” upon the extensive property of the see. +The ruins of the monastery upon Holy Island betoken great +antiquity. The arches are, in general, strictly Saxon, and the +pillars which support them, short, strong, and massy. In some +places, however, there are pointed windows, which indicate that +the building has been repaired at a period long subsequent to the +original foundation. The exterior ornaments of the building, +being of a light sandy stone, have been wasted, as described in +the text. Lindisfarne is not properly an island, but rather, as +the Venerable Bede has termed it, a semi-isle; for, although +surrounded by the sea at full tide, the ebb leaves the sands dry +between it and the opposite coast of Northumberland, from which +it is about three miles distant.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +The monastery, of which the present ruins remain, was built, +between 1093 and 1120, by Benedictine monks under the direction +of William Carileph, Bishop of Durham. There were sixteen bishops +in Holy Island between St. Aidan (635 A. D.) and Eardulph (875 A. +D.). The Christians were dispersed after the violent inroad of +the Danes in 868, and for two centuries Lindisfarne suffered +apparent relapse. Lindisfarne (Gael. <i>farne</i>, a retreat) +signifies ‘a place of retreat by the brook Lindis.’ +The name Holy Island was given by Carileph’s monks, to +commemorate, they said, ‘the sacred blood which had been +shed by the Danes.’ See Raine’s ‘History of +North Durham,’ F. R. Wilson’s ‘Churches of +Lindisfarne,’ and Mr. Keeling’s ‘Lindisfarne, +or Holy Island: its History and Associations.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 17</b>. Cp. Coleridge’s ‘Ancient +Mariner’:-<br> +<br> + ‘The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,<br> + The farrow followed free.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 20</b>. For Saint Hilda, see below, note on line 244.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza II. line 33. sea-dog</b>, the seal.<br> +<br> +<b>line 36. still</b>. Cp. above, I. 430.<br> +<br> +<b>line 44</b>. A Novice is one under probation for a term +extending to at least a year, and it may extend to two or three +years, after which vows are either taken or declined.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IV. line 70. Benedictine school</b>. St. Benedict +founded his order-sometimes, because of their dark garb, called +Black Friars-in the beginning of the sixth century. Benedict of +Aniana, in the eighth century, reformed the discipline of the +order.<br> +<br> +<b>line 74</b>. Cp. Chaucer’s Prioress in the +Prologue:-<br> +<br> + ‘And sikerly sche was of gret disport,<br> + And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza V. line 90</b>. Cp. Spenser’s Una, ‘Faery +Queene,’ I. iv:-<br> +<br> + ‘A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside.<br> + * * *<br> + As one that inly mournd, so was she sad,<br> + And heavie sat upon her palfrey slow.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VI</b>. With this ‘brown study,’ cp. +Wordsworth’s ‘Reverie of Poor Susan.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza. VII. line 114</b>. Reference to the lion of +‘Faery Queene,’ I. iii:-<br> +<br> + ‘Forsaken Truth long seekes her love,<br> + And makes the Lyon mylde.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 124. bowl and knife</b>. Poisoning and stabbing.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VIII. Monk-Wearmouth</b>. A monastery, founded here in +674 A. D., was destroyed by the Danes in the ninth century, and +restored after the Norman Conquest. For <b>Tynemouth</b>, see +below, 371, <b>Seaton-Delaval</b>, the seat of the Delavals, who +by marriage came into possession of Ford Castle. +<b>Widderington</b>. It was a ‘squyar off Northombarlonde, +Ric. Wytharynton,’ that showed notable valour and +persistent endurance at Chevy Chase:-<br> +<br> + ‘For Wetharryngton my harte was wo,<br> + That ever he slayne shulde be;<br> + For when both his leggis wear hewyne in te,<br> + He knyled and fought on hys kne.’<br> +<br> +Butler, fully appreciating this doughty champion, uses him in a +descriptive illustration, ‘Hudibras,’ I. iii. +95:-<br> +<br> + ‘As Widdrington, in doleful dumps,<br> + Is said to fight upon his stumps.’<br> +<br> +Widderington Castle, with the exception of one tower, was +destroyed by fire. <b>Warkworth Castle</b> is about a mile from +the mouth of the Alne, and is the seat of the Duke of +Northumberland. <b>Bamborough</b>, the finest specimen of a +feudal castle in the north of England, is said to have been +founded by King Ida about the middle of the sixth century. Lord +Crewe, Bishop of Durham, purchased the Bamborough estates between +1709 and 1720, and left them for charitable purposes. This +charity maintains, <i>inter alia</i>, a national school in the +village of Bamborough, and an officer to fire a cannon from the +dangerous rocks every fifteen minutes in foggy weather, besides +providing for the education of thirty girls within the castle +walls.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IX. line 164. battled</b>. See above, I. 4.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza X. line 173</b>. Pointed or Gothic architecture came in +towards the end of the twelfth century.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XII. line 215. Suppose we</b> = Let us suppose. This is +an Elizabethanism. Cp. Macbeth, i. I. 10:-<br> +<br> + ‘Hover through the fog and filthy air,’<br> +<br> +where <i>hover</i> = hover we.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIII. line 234</b>. Scott quotes from ‘A True +Account,’ circulated at Whitby, concerning the consequences +of a boar-hunt on Eskdale-side, belonging to the Abbot of Whitby. +The boar, being hard pressed, made for a hermitage and died just +within the door. Coming up, the three leaders-William de Bruce, +Lord of Uglebarnby, Ralph de Percy, Lord of Smeaton, and a +freeholder named Allatson-in their disappointment and wrath set +upon the hermit, whom they fatally wounded. When the abbot +afterwards came to the dying hermit, and told him his assailants +would suffer extreme penalty for their ruthless conduct, the +hermit asked the gentlemen to be sent for, and said he would +pardon them on certain conditions. ‘The gentlemen being +present bade him save their lives.-Then said the hermit, +“You and yours shall hold your lands of the Abbot of +Whitby, and his successors, in this manner: That, upon +Ascension-day, you, or some of you, shall come to the wood of the +Stray-heads, which is in Eskdale-side, the same day at +sun-rising, and there shall the abbot’s officer blow his +horn, to the intent that you may know where to find him; and he +shall deliver unto you, William de Bruce, ten stakes, eleven +strout stowers, and eleven yethers, to be cut by you, or some of +you, with a knife of one penny price: and you, Ralph de Percy, +shall take twenty-one of each sort, to be cut in the same manner; +and you, Allatson, shall take nine of each sort, to be cut as +aforesaid, and to be taken on your backs and carried to the town +of Whitby, and to be there before nine of the clock the same day +before mentioned. At the same hour of nine of the clock, if it be +full sea, your labour and service shall cease; and if low water, +each of you shall set your stakes to the brim, each stake one +yard from the other, and so yether them on each side with your +yethers; and so stake on each side with your strout stowers, that +they may stand three tides, without removing by the force +thereof. Each of you shall do, make, and execute the said +service, at that very hour, every year, except it be fall sea at +that hour; but when it shall so fall out, this service shall +cease. You shall faithfully do this, in remembrance that you did +most cruelly slay me; and that you may the better call to God for +mercy, repent unfeignedly of your sins, and do good works. The +officer of Eskdale-side shall blow, <i>Out on you! Out on you! +Out on you!</i> for this heinous crime. If you, or your +successors, shall refuse this service, so long as it shall not be +full sea at the aforesaid hour, you or yours shall forfeit your +lands to the Abbot of Whitby, or his successors. This I entreat, +and earnestly beg, that you may have lives and goods preserved +for this service: and I request of you to promise, by your parts +in Heaven, that it shall be done by you and your successors, as +is aforesaid requested; and I will confirm it by the faith of an +honest man.”-Then the hermit said, “My soul longeth +for the Lord: and I do as freely forgive these men my death, as +Christ forgave the thieves on the cross.” And, in the +presence of the abbot and the rest, he said moreover these words: +“<i>In manus tuos, Domine, commendo spiritum meum, a +vinculis enim mortis redemisti me, Domine veritatis, +Amen</i>.”-So he yielded up the ghost the eighth day of +December, anno Domini 1159, whose soul God have mercy upon. +Amen.<br> +<br> +‘“This service,” it is added, “still +continues to be performed with the prescribed ceremonies, though +not by the proprietors in person. Part of the lands charged +therewith are now held by a gentleman of the name of +Herbert.”‘-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 244</b>. Edelfled ‘was the daughter of King Oswy, +who, in gratitude to Heaven for the great victory which he won in +655, against Penda, the pagan King of Mercia, dedicated +Edelfleda, then but a year old, to the service of God, in the +monastery of Whitby, of which St. Hilda was then abbess. She +afterwards adorned the place of her education with great +magnificence.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 251</b>. ‘These two miracles are much insisted on +by all ancient writers who have occasion to mention either Whitby +or St. Hilda. The relics of the snakes, which infested the +precincts of the convent, and were at the abbess’s prayer +not only beheaded but petrified, are still found about the rocks, +and are termed by Protestant fossilists, <i>Ammonitae</i>.<br> +<br> +‘The other miracle is thus mentioned by Camden: “It +is also ascribed to the power of her sanctity, that these wild +geese, which, in the winter, fly in great flocks to the lakes and +rivers unfrozen in the southern parts, to the great amazement of +every one, fall down suddenly upon the ground, when they are in +their flight over certain ‘neighbouring fields hereabouts: +a relation I should not have made, if I had not received it from +several credible men. But those who are less inclined to heed +superstition, attribute it to some occult quality in the ground, +and to somewhat of antipathy between it and the geese, such as +they say is betwixt wolves and scyllaroots: for that such hidden +tendencies and aversions, as we call sympathies and antipathies, +are implanted in many things by provident Nature for the +preservation of them, is a thing so evident, that everybody +grants it.” Mr. Chariton, in his History of Whitby, points +out the true origin of the fable, from the number of sea-gulls +that, when flying from a storm, often alight near Whitby; and +from the woodcocks, and other birds of passage, who do the same +upon their arrival on shore, after a long +flight.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIV. line 257</b>. ‘St. Cuthbert was, in the +choice of his sepulchre, one of the most mutable and unreasonable +saints in the Calendar. He died A. D. 688, in a hermitage upon +the Farne Islands, having resigned the bishopric of Lindisfarne, +or Holy Island, about two years before. <a name= +"citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1">{1}</a> His body was +brought to Lindisfarne, where it remained until a descent of the +Danes, about 793, when the monastery was nearly destroyed. The +monks fled to Scotland, with what they deemed their chief +treasure, the relics of St. Cuthbert. The Saint was, however, a +most capricious fellow-traveller; which was the more intolerable, +as, like Sinbad’s Old Man of the Sea, he journeyed upon the +shoulders of his companions. They paraded him through Scotland +for several years, and came as far west as Whithorn, in Galloway, +whence they attempted to sail for Ireland, but were driven back +by tempests. He at length made a halt at Norham; from thence he +went to Melrose, where he remained stationary for a short time, +and then caused himself to be launched upon the Tweed in a stone +coffin, which landed him at Tilmouth, in Northumberland. This +boat is finely shaped, ten feet long, three feet and a half in +diameter, and only four inches thick; so that, with very little +assistance, it might certainly have swam: it still lies, or at +least did so a few years ago, in two pieces, beside the ruined +chapel at Tilmouth. From Tilmouth, Cuthbert wandered into +Yorkshire; and at length made a long stay at Chester-le-street, +to which the bishop’s see was transferred. At length, the +Danes continuing to infest the country, the monks removed to +Rippon for a season; and it was in return from thence to +Chester-le-street, that, passing through a forest called +Dunholme, the Saint and his carriage became immovable at a place +named Wardlaw, or Wardilaw. Here the Saint chose his place of +residence; and all who have seen Durham must admit, that, if +difficult in his choice, he evinced taste in at last fixing it. +It is said, that the Northumbrian Catholics still keep secret the +precise spot of the Saint’s sepulture, which is only +intrusted to three persons at a time. When one dies the survivors +associate to them, in his room, a person judged fit to be the +depositary of so valuable a secret.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +‘The resting-place of the remains of this Saint is not now +matter of uncertainty. So recently as 17th May, 1827,-1139 years +after his death-their discovery and disinterment were effected. +Under a blue stone, in the middle of the shrine of St. Cuthbert, +at the eastern extremity of the choir of Durham Cathedral, there +was then found a walled grave, containing the coffins of the +Saint. The first, or outer one, was ascertained to be that of +1541, the second of 1041; the third, or inner one, answering in +every particular to the description of that of 698, was found to +contain, not indeed, as had been averred then, and even until +1539, the incorruptible body, but the entire skeleton of the +Saint; the bottom of the grave being perfectly dry, free from +offensive smell, and without the slightest symptom that a human +body had ever undergone decomposition within its walls. The +skeleton was found swathed in five silk robes of emblematical +embroidery, the ornamental parts laid with gold leaf, and these +again covered with a robe of linen. Beside the skeleton were also +deposited several gold and silver insignia, and other relics of +the Saint.<br> +<br> +‘(The Roman Catholics now allow that the coffin was that of +St. Cuthbert.)<br> +<br> +‘The bones of the Saint were again restored to the grave in +a new coffin, amid the fragments of the former ones. Those +portions of the inner coffin which could be preserved, including +one of its rings, with the silver altar, golden cross, stole, +comb, two maniples, bracelets, girdle, gold wire of the skeleton, +and fragments of the five silk robes, and seme of the rings of +the outer coffin made in 1541, were deposited in the library of +the Dean and Chapter, where they are now +preserved.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +For ample details regarding St. Cuthbert, see ‘St. +Cuthbert,’ by James Raine, M. A. (4to, Durham, 1828).<br> +<br> +<b>line 263</b>. For ‘fair Melrose’ see opening of +Canto II, ‘Lay of the Last Minstrel,’ and Prof. +Minto’s note in the Clarendon Press edition.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XV. line 292</b>. ‘Every one has heard, that when +David I, with his son Henry, invaded Northumberland in 1136, the +English host marched against them under the holy banner of St. +Cuthbert; to the efficacy of which was imputed the great victory +which they obtained in the bloody battle of Northallerton, or +Cuton-moor. The conquerors were at least as much indebted to the +jealousy and intractability of the different tribes who composed +David’s army; among whom, as mentioned in the text, were +the Galwegians, the Britons of Strath-Clyde, the men of +Teviotdale and Lothian, with many Norman and German warriors, who +asserted the cause of the Empress Maud. See Chalmers’s +“Caledonia,” vol. i. p. 622; a most laborious, +curious, and interesting publication, from which considerable +defects of style and manner ought not to turn aside the Scottish +antiquary.<br> +<br> +‘Cuthbert, we have seen, had no great reason, to spare the +Danes, when opportunity offered. Accordingly, I find in Simeon of +Durham, that the Saint appeared in a vision to Alfred, when +lurking in the marches of Glastonbury, and promised him +assistance and victory over his heathen enemies; a consolation +which, as was reasonable, Alfred, after the battle of Ashendown, +rewarded, by a royal offering at the shrine of the Saint. As to +William the Conqueror, the terror spread before his army, when he +marched to punish the revolt of the Northumbrians, in 1096, had +forced the monks to fly once more to Holy Island with the body of +the Saint. It was, however, replaced before William left the +north; and, to balance accounts, the Conqueror having intimated +an indiscreet curiosity to view the Saint’s body, he was, +while in the act of commanding the shrine to be opened, seized +with heat and sickness, accompanied with such a panic terror, +that, notwithstanding there was a sumptuous dinner prepared for +him, he fled without eating a morsel (which the monkish historian +seems to have thought no small part both of the miracle and the +penance,) and never drew his bridle till he got to the river +Tees.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVI. line 300</b>. ‘Although we do not learn that +Cuthbert was, during his life, such an artificer as Dunstan, his +brother in sanctity, yet, since his death, he has acquired the +reputation of forging those <i>Entrochi</i> which are found among +the rocks of Holy Island, and pass there by the name of St. +Cuthbert’s Beads. While at this task, he is supposed to sit +during the night upon a certain rock, and use another as his +anvil. This story was perhaps credited in former days; at least +the Saint’s legend contains some not more +probable.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +See in Mr. Aubrey de Vere’s ‘Legends of the Saxon +Saints’ a fine poem entitled ‘How Saint Cuthbert kept +his Pentecost at Carlisle.’ The ‘beads’ are +there referred to thus:-<br> +<br> + ‘And many an age, when slept that Saint in death,<br> + Passing his isle by night the sailor heard<br> + Saint Cuthbert’s hammer clinking on the +rock.’<br> +<br> +The recognised name of these shells is still ‘St. +Cuthbert’s beads.”<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVII. line 316</b>. ‘Ceolwolf, or Colwulf, King +of Northumberland, flourished in the eighth century. He was a man +of some learning; for the venerable Bede dedicates to him his +“Ecclesiastical History.” He abdicated the throne +about 738, and retired to Holy Island, where he died in the odour +of sanctity. Saint as Colwulf was, however, I fear the foundation +of the penance-vault does not correspond with his character; for +it is recorded among his memorabilia, that, finding the air of +the island raw and cold, he indulged the monks, whose rule had +hitherto confined them to milk or water, with the comfortable +privilege of using wine or ale. If any rigid antiquary insists on +this objection, he is welcome to suppose the penance-vault was +intended by the founder for the more genial purposes of a +cellar.<br> +<br> +‘These penitential vaults were the <i>Geissel-gewolbe</i> +of German convents. In the earlier and more rigid times of +monastic discipline, they were sometimes used as a cemetery for +the lay benefactor of the convent, whose unsanctified corpses +were then seldom permitted to pollute the choir. They also served +as places of meeting for the chapter, when measures of uncommon +severity were to be adopted. But their most frequent use, as +implied by the name,<br> +was as places for performing penances, or undergoing +punishment.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVIII. line 350</b>. ‘Antique +chandelier.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIX. line 371</b>. ‘That there was an ancient +priory at Tynemouth is certain. Its ruins are situated on a high +rocky point; and, doubtless, many a vow was made to the shrine by +the distressed mariners, who drove towards the iron-bound coast +of Northumberland in stormy weather. It was anciently a nunnery; +for Virca, abbess of Tynemouth, presented St. Cuthbert (yet +alive) with a rare winding-sheet, in emulation of a holy lady +called Tuda, who had sent him a coffin: but, as in the case of +Whitby, and of Holy Island, the introduction of nuns at +Tynemouth, in the reign of Henry VIII, is an anachronism. The +nunnery of Holy Island is altogether fictitious. Indeed, St. +Cuthbert was unlikely to permit such an establishment; for, +notwithstanding his accepting the mortuary gifts above mentioned, +and his carrying on a visiting acquaintance with the abbess of +Coldingham, he certainly hated the whole female sex; and, in +revenge of a slippery trick played to him by an Irish princess, +he, after death, inflicted severe penances on such as presumed to +approach within a certain distance of his +shrine.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 376. ruth</b> (A. S. <i>hreow</i>, pity) in Early and +Middle English was used both for ‘disaster’ and +‘pity.’ These two shades of meaning are illustrated +by Spenser in F. Q., Bk. ii. I. Introd. to Canto where Falsehood +beguiles the Red Cross Knight, and ‘workes him woefull +ruth,’ and in F. Q. I. v. 9:<br> +<br> + ‘Great <i>ruth</i> in all the gazers hearts did +grow.’<br> +<br> +Milton (Lycidas, 163) favours the poetical employment of the +word, which modern poets continue to use. Cp. Wordsworth, +‘Ode for a General Thanksgiving’:-<br> +<br> + ‘Assaulting without <i>ruth<br> + </i> The citadels of truth;’<br> +<br> +and Tennyson’s ‘Geraint and Enid,’ II. +102:-<br> +<br> + ‘<i>Ruth</i> began to work<br> + Against his anger in him, while he watch’d<br> + The being he lov’d best in all the world.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XX. line 385. doublet</b>, a close-fitting jacket, +introduced from France in the fourteenth century, and fashionable +in all ranks till the time of Charles II. Cp. As You Like It, ii. +4. 6:-’Doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to +petticoat.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 398</b>. Fontevraud, on the Loire, 8 miles from Saumur, +had one of the richest abbeys in France. It was a retreat for +penitents of both sexes, and presided over by an abbess. +‘The old monastic buildings and courtyards, surrounded by +walls, and covering from 40 to 50 acres, now form one of the +larger prisons of France, in which about 2000 men and boys are +confined, and kept at industrial occupations.’ See +Chambers’s ‘Encyclopaedia,’ s. v., and +<i>Chambers’s Edinburgh Journal</i>, 2d. S, I. 104.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXI. line 408. but</b> = except that. Cp. Tempest, i. +2. 414:-<br> +<br> + ‘And, but he’s something +stain’d<br> + With grief that’s beauty’s canker, thou +might’st call him<br> + A goodly person.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 414</b>. Byron, writing to Murray on 3 Feb., 1816, +expresses his belief that he has unwittingly imitated this +passage in ‘Parisina.’ ‘I had,’ he says, +‘completed the story on the passage from Gibbon, which +indeed leads to a like scene naturally, without a thought of the +kind; but it comes upon me not very comfortably.’ Byron is +quite right in his assertion that, if he had taken this striking +description of Constance as a model for his Parisina, he would +have been attempting ‘to imitate that which is +inimitable.’ See ‘Parisina,’ st. xiv:-<br> +<br> + ‘She stood, I said, all pale and still,<br> + The living cause of Hugo’s ill.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXII. line 415. a sordid soul</b>, &c. For such a +character in the drama see Lightborn in Marlowe’s Edward +II, and those trusty agents in Richard III, whose avowed hardness +of heart drew from Gloucester the appreciative remark:-<br> +<br> + ‘Your eyes drop millstones, when fools’ eyes +drop tears.’<br> + Richard III, i. 3. +353.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIII. line 438. grisly</b>, grim, horrible; still an +effective poetic word. It is, e.g., very expressive in +Tennyson’s ‘Princess,’ sect. vi, where Ida +sees<br> +<br> + ‘The haggard father’s face and reverend +beard<br> + Of <i>grisly</i> twine, all dabbled with the blood,’ +&c.<br> +<br> +See below, III. 382.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXV. line 468</b>. ‘It is well known, that the +religious, who broke their vows of chastity, were subjected to +the same penalty as the Roman vestals in a similar case. A small +niche, sufficient to enclose their bodies, was made in the +massive wall of the convent; a slender pittance of food and water +was deposited in it, and the awful words, VADE IN PACE, were the +signal for immuring the criminal. It is not likely that, in +latter times, this punishment was often resorted to; but among +the ruins of the abbey of Coldingham, were some years ago +discovered the remains of a female skeleton, which, from the +shape of the niche, and position of the figure, seemed to be that +of an immured nun.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +Lockhart adds:-‘The Edinburgh Reviewer, on st. xxxii, +<i>post</i>, suggests that the proper reading of the sentence is +<i>vade in pacem</i>-not <i>part in peace</i>, but <i>go into +peace</i>, or eternal rest, a pretty intelligible mittimus to +another world.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVII. line 506. my</b> = ‘of me,’ retains +the old genitive force as in Elizabethan English. Cp. Julius +Caesar, i. I. 55:-<br> +<br> + ‘In <i>his</i> way<br> + That comes in triumph over Pompey’s blood.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 516</b>. The very old fancy of a forsaken lover’s +revenge has been powerfully utilized in D. G. Rossetti’s +fascinating ballad, ‘Sister Helen’:-<br> +<br> + ‘Pale, pale her cheeks, that in pride did glow,<br> + Sister Helen,<br> + ‘Neath the bridal-wreath three days ago.’<br> +<br> + ‘One morn for pride and three days for woe,<br> + Little brother!’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVIII. line 520. plight</b>, woven, united, as in +Spenser F. Q., II. vi. 7:-<br> +<br> + ‘Fresh flowerets dight<br> + About her necke, or rings of rushes +<i>plight</i>.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 524-40</b>. The reference in these lines is to what was +known as the appeal to the judgment of God. On this subject, +Scott at the close of the second head in his ‘Essay on +Chivalry,’ says, ‘In the appeal to this awful +criterion, the combatants, whether personally concerned, or +appearing as champions, were understood, in martial law, to take +on themselves the full risk of all consequences. And, as the +defendant, or his champion, in case of being overcome, was +subjected to the punishment proper to the crime of which he was +accused, so the appellant, if vanquished, was, whether a +principal or substitute, condemned to the same doom to which his +success would have exposed the accused. Whichever combatant was +vanquished he was liable to the penalty of degradation; and, if +he survived the combat, the disgrace to which he was subjected +was worse than death. His spurs were cut off close to his heels, +with a cook’s cleaver; his arms were baffled and reversed +by the common hangman; his belt was cut to pieces, and his sword +broken. Even his horse shared his disgrace, the animal’s +tail being cut off, close by the rump, and thrown on a dunghill. +The death-bell tolled, and the funeral service was said for a +knight thus degraded as for one dead to knightly honour. And if +he fell in the appeal to the judgment of God, the same dishonour +was done to his senseless corpse. If alive, he was only rescued +from death to be confined in the cloister. Such at least were the +strict roles of Chivalry, though the courtesy of the victor, or +the clemency of the prince, might remit them in favourable +cases.’<br> +<br> +For illustration of forms observed at such contests, see Richard +II, i. 3.<br> +<br> +<b>line 524</b>. Each knight declared on oath that he ‘had +his quarrel just.’ The fall of an unworthy knight is +referred to below, VI. 961.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIX. line 545</b>. This illustrates Henry’s +impulsive and imperious character, and is not, necessarily, a +premonition of his final attitude towards Roman Catholicism.<br> +<br> +<b>line 555. dastard</b> (Icel. <i>doestr</i> = exhausted, +breathless; O. Dut. <i>dasaert</i> = a fool) is very +appropriately used here, after the description above, St. xxii, +to designate the poltroon that quails only before death. Cp. +Pope’s Iliad, II. 427:-<br> +<br> + ‘And die the dastard first, who dreads to +die.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXX. line 568</b>. Cp. Julius Caesar, ii. 2. 35:-<br> +<br> + ‘It seems to me most strange that men should fear;<br> + Seeing that death, a necessary end,<br> + Will come when it will come.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXI. line 573. the fiery Dane</b>. See note on line 10 +above. Passing northwards after destroying York and Tynemouth, +the Danes in 875 burned the monastery on Lindisfarne. The bishop +and monks, with their relics and the body of St. Cuthbert, fled +over the Kylve hills. See Raine, &c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 576. the crosier bends</b>. Crosier (O. Fr. +<i>croiser</i>; Fr. <i>croix</i> = cross) is used both for the +staff of an archbishop with a cross on the top, and for the staff +of a bishop or an abbot, terminating in a carved or ornamented +curve or crook. The word is used here metaphorically for Papal +power, as Bacon uses it, speaking of Anselm and Becket, +‘who with their <i>crosiers</i> did almost try it with the +king’s sword.’ Constance’s prophecy refers to +Henry VIII’s victorious collision with the Pope.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXII. lines 585-91</b>. It is impossible not to +connect this striking picture with that of Virgil’s Sibyl +(Aeneid, VI. 45):-<br> +<br> + ‘Ventum erat ad limen, cum virgo, ‘poscere +fata<br> + Tempus,’ ait; ‘deus, ecce, deus.’ Cui +talia fanti<br> + Ante fores subito non voltus, non color unus,<br> + Non comptae mansere comae; sed pectus anhelum,<br> + Et rabie fera corda tument; maiorque videri<br> + Nec mortale sonans, adflata est numine quando<br> + Iam propiore dei.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 588. Stared</b>, stood up stiffly. Cp. Julius Caesar, iv. +3. 280, and Tempest, i. 2. 213, ‘with hair +<i>upstaring</i>.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 600</b>. See above, line 468, and note.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXIII. line 616. for terror’s sake</b> = because +of terror. Cp. ‘For fashion’s sake,’ As You +Like It, iii. 2. 55.<br> +<br> +<b>line 620</b>. The custom of ringing the <i>passing</i> bell +grew out of the belief that a church bell, rung when the soul was +passing from the body, terrified the devils that were waiting to +attack it at the moment of its escape. ‘The tolling of the +passing bell was retained at the Reformation; and the people were +instructed that its use was to admonish the living, and excite +them to pray for the dying. But by the beginning of the l8th +century the passing bell in the proper sense of the term had +almost ceased to be heard. ‘A mourning bell is still rung +during funeral services as a mark of respect. See <i>s. v.</i> +‘Bell,’ Chambers’s Encyclopaedia. Cp. +Byron’s ‘Parisina,’ St. xv.<br> +<br> + ‘The convent bells are ringing,<br> + But mournfully and slow;<br> + In the grey square turret swinging<br> + With a deep sound to and fro.’<br> +<br> +In criticising ‘Marmion,’ in the <i>Edinburgh +Review</i>, Lord Jeffrey says that the sound of the knell rung +for Constance ‘is described with great force and +solemnity;’ while a writer in the <i>Scots Magazine</i> of +1808 considers that ‘the whole of this trial and doom +presents a high-wrought scene of horror, which, at the close, +rises almost to too great a pitch.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD.<br> +<br> +</b>‘William Erskine, Esq. advocate, sheriff-depute of the +Orkneys, became a Judge of the Court of Session by the title of +Lord Kinnedder, and died in Edinburgh in August, 1823. He had +been from early youth the most intimate of the Poet’s +friends, and his chief confidant and adviser as to all literary +matters. See a notice of his life and character by the late Mr. +Hay Donaldson, to which Sir Walter Scott contributed several +paragraphs.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +There are frequent references to Erskine throughout +Lockhart’s Life of Scott. The critics of the time were of +his opinion that Scott as a poet was not giving his powers their +proper direction. Jeffrey considered Marmion ‘a +misapplication in some degree of extraordinary talents.’ +Fortunately, Scott decided for himself in the matter, and the +self-criticism of this Introduction is characterised not only by +good humour and poetic beauty but by discrimination and strong +common-sense.<br> +<br> +<b>line 14. a morning dream</b>. This may simply be a poetic way +of saying that his method is unsystematic, but Horace’s +account of the vision he saw when he was once tempted to write +Greek verses is irresistibly suggested by the expression:-<br> +<br> + ‘Vetuit me tali voce Quirinus<br> + Post mediam noctem visus, cum somnia vera:<br> + “In silvam non ligna feras insanius, ac si<br> + Magnas Graecorum malis implere catervas?’<br> + Sat. I. x. 32.<br> +<br> +<b>line 24. all too well</b>. This use of ‘all too’ +is a development of the Elizabethan expression +‘all-to’ = <i>altogether, quite</i>, as ‘all to +topple,’ Pericles, iii. 2. 17; ‘all to +ruffled,’ Comus, 380. In this usage the original force of +<i>to</i> as a verbal prefix is lost sight of. Chaucer has +‘The pot to breaketh’ in Prologue to Chanon Yeomanes +Tale. See note in Clarendon Press Milton, i. 290.<br> +<br> +<b>line 26</b>. Desultory song may naturally command a very wide +class of those intelligent readers, for whom the Earl of +Iddesleigh, in ‘lectures and Essays,’ puts forward a +courageous plea in his informing and genial address on the uses +of Desultory Reading.<br> +<br> +<b>line 28</b>. The reading of the first edition is +‘loftier,’ which conveys an estimate of his own +achievements more characteristic of Scott than the bare assertion +of his ability to ‘build the lofty rhyme’ which is +implied in the line as it stands. Perhaps the expression just +quoted from ‘Lycidas’ may have led to the reading of +all subsequent editions.<br> +<br> +<b>line 46</b>. The Duke of Brunswick commanded the Prussian +forces at Jena, 14 Oct., 1806, and was mortally wounded. He was +72. For ‘hearse,’ cp. above, Introd. to I. 199.<br> +<br> +<b>line 54</b>. The reigning house of Prussia comes from the +Electors of Brandenburg. In 1415 Frederick VI. of Hohenzollern +and Nuremberg became Frederick the First, Elector of Brandenburg. +The Duchy of Prussia fell under the sway of the Elector John +Sigismund (1608-19), and from that time to the present there has +been a very remarkable development of government and power. See +Carlyle’s ‘Frederick the Great,’ and Mr. +Baring-Gould’s ‘Germany’ in the series +‘Stories of the Nations.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 57-60</b>. The Duke of Brunswick was defeated at Valmy +in 1792, and so failed to crush the dragon of the French +Revolution in its birth, as in all likelihood he would have done +had he been victorious on the occasion.<br> +<br> +<b>line 64</b>. Prussia, without an ally, took the field instead +of acting on the defensive.<br> +<br> +<b>line 67. seem’d</b> = beseemed, befitted; as in +Spenser’s May eclogue, ‘Nought seemeth sike +strife,’ i.e. such strife is not befitting or seemly.<br> +<br> +<b>line 69</b>. Various German princes lost their dominions after +Napoleon conquered Prussia.<br> +<br> +<b>line 78</b>. By defeating Varus, A. D. 9, Arminius saved +Germany from Roman conquest. See the first two books of the +Annals of Tacitus, at the close of which this tribute is paid to +the hero: ‘liberator haud dubie Germaniae et qui non +primordia populi Romani, sicut alii reges ducesque, sed +florentissimum imperium lacessierit, proeliis ambiguus, bello non +victus.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 46-80</b>. This undoubtedly vigorous and well-sustained +tribute is not without its special purpose. The Princess Caroline +was daughter of the Duke of Brunswick, and Scott was one of those +who believed in her, in spite of that ‘careless +levity’ which he did not fail to note in her demeanour when +presented at her Court at Blackheath in 1806. This passage on the +Duke of Brunswick had been read by the Princess before the +appearance of ‘Marmion.’ Lockhart (Life of Scott, ii. +117) says: ‘He seems to have communicated fragments of the +poem very freely during the whole of its progress. As early as +the 22nd February, 1807, I find Mrs. Hayman acknowledging, in the +name of the Princess of Wales, the receipt of a copy of the +Introduction to Canto III, in which occurs the tribute to her +Royal Highness’s heroic father, mortally wounded the year +before at Jena-a tribute so grateful to her feelings that she +herself shortly after sent the poet an elegant silver vase as a +memorial of her thankfulness.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 81</b>. The Red-Cross hero is Sir Sidney Smith, the +famous admiral, who belonged to the Order of Knights Templars. +The eight-pointed Templar’s cross which he wore throughout +his career is said to have belonged to Richard Coeur-de-Lion. In +early life, with consent of the Government, Smith distinguished +himself with the Swedes in their war with Russia. He was +frequently entrusted with the duty of alarming the French coast, +and once was captured and imprisoned, in the Temple at Paris, for +two years. His escape was effected by a daring stratagem on the +part of the French Royalist party. He and his sailors helped the +Turks to retain St. Jean d’Acre against Napoleon, till then +the ‘Invincible,’ who retired baffled after a vain +siege of sixty days (May, 1799). Had Acre been won, said Napoleon +afterwards, ‘I would have reached Constantinople and the +Indies-I would have changed the face of the world.’ See +Scott’s ‘Life of Napoleon,’ chap. xiii.<br> +<br> +<b>line 91</b>. For <b>metal’d</b> see above, Introd. to I. +308.<br> +<br> +<b>line 92</b>. For warped = ‘frozen,’ cp. As You +Like It, ii. 7. 187, where, addressing the bitter sky, the singer +says:-<br> +<br> + ‘Though thou the waters warp,<br> + Thy sting is not so sharp,<br> + As friends remember’d not.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 94</b>. The reference is to Sir Ralph Abercromby, who +commanded the expedition to Egypt, 1800-1, and fell at the battle +of Alexandria. Sir Sidney Smith was wounded in the same battle, +and had to go home.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 100-10</b>. Scott pays compliment to his friend Joanna +Baillie (1764-1851), with chivalrous courtesy asserting that she +is the first worthy successor of Shakespeare. ‘Count +Basil’ and ‘De Montfort’ are the two most +remarkable of her ‘Plays of the Passions,’ of which +she published three volumes. ‘De Montfort’ was played +in London, Kemble enacting the hero. Several of Miss +Baillie’s Scottish songs are among standard national +lyrics.<br> +<br> +<b>line 100</b>. Cp. opening of ‘Lady of the +Lake.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 115-28</b>. Lockhart notes the resemblance between this +passage and Pope’s ‘Essay on Man,’ II. +133-148.<br> +<br> +<b>line 134</b>. Cp. Goldsmith’s ‘Traveller,’ +293:-<br> +<br> + ‘The slow canal, the yellow-blossom’d vale,<br> + The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail.’<br> +<br> +Batavia is the capital of the Dutch East Indies, with canals, +architecture, &c., after the home model.<br> +<br> +<b>line 137. hind</b>, from Early Eng. <i>hyne</i>, servant (A. +S. <i>hina</i>) is quite distinct from hind, a female stag. Gavin +Douglas, translating <i>Tyrii coloni</i> of Aen. I. 12, makes +them ‘hynis of Tyre.’ Shakespeare (Merry Wives, iii. +5. 94) uses the word as servant, ‘A couple of Ford’s +knaves, his <i>hinds</i>, were called forth.’ The modern +usage implies a farm-bailiff or simply a farm-servant.<br> +<br> +<b>line 149</b>. Lochaber is a large district in the south of +Invernesshire, having Ben Nevis and other Grampian heights within +its compass. It is a classic name in Scottish literature owing to +Allan Ramsay’s plaintive lyric, ‘Lochaber no +more.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 153</b>. For early influences, see Lockhart’s Life, +vol. i.<br> +<br> +<b>line 178</b>. ‘Smailholm Tower, in Berwickshire, the +scene of the author’s infancy, is situated about two miles +from Dryburgh Abbey.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 180</b>. The aged hind was ‘Auld Sandy +Ormiston,’ the cow-herd on Sandyknows, Scott’s +grandfather’s farm. ‘If the child saw him in the +morning,’ says Lockhart, ‘he could not be satisfied +unless the old man would set him astride on his shoulder, and +take him to keep him company as he lay watching his +charge.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 183. strength</b>, stronghold. Cp. Par. Lost, vii. +141:-<br> +<br> + ‘This inaccessible high strength...<br> + He trusted to have seiz’d.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 194. slights</b>, as pointed out by Mr. Rolfe, was +‘sleights’ in the original, and, as lovers’ +stratagems are manifestly referred to, this is the preferable +reading. But both spellings occur in this sense.<br> +<br> +<b>line 201</b>. The Highlanders displayed such valour at +Killiecrankie (1689), and Prestonpans (1745).<br> +<br> +<b>line 207</b>. ‘See notes on the <i>Eve of St. John</i>, +in the Border Minstrelsy, vol. iv; and the author’s +Introduction to the Minstrelsy, vol. i. p. +101.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 211</b>. ‘Robert Scott of Sandyknows, the +grandfather of the Poet.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 216. doom</b>, judgment or decision. +‘Discording,’ in the sense of disagreeing, is still +in common use in Scotland both as an adj. and a participle. +‘They discorded’ indicates that two disputants +approached without quite reaching a serious quarrel. In a note to +the second edition of the poem Scott states that the couplet +beginning ‘whose doom’ is ‘unconsciously +borrowed from a passage in Dryden’s beautiful epistle to +John Driden of Chesterton.’ Dryden’s lines are:-<br> +<br> + ‘Just, good, and wise, contending neighbours come,<br> + From your award to wait their final doom.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 221</b>. ‘Mr. John Martin, minister of Mertoun, in +which parish Smailholm Tower is situated.’-LOCKHART. With +the tribute to the clergyman’s worth, cp. Walton’s +eulogy on George Herbert, ‘Thus he lived, and thus he died, +like a saint,’ &c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 225</b>. For <b>imp</b>, cp. above Introd. to I. 37. A +‘grandame’s child’ is almost certainly spoiled. +Shakespeare (King John, ii. i. 161) utilizes the fact:-<br> +<br> + ‘It grandam will<br> + Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO THIRD</b>.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza I</b>. Mr. Guthrie Wright, advocate, prosaically +objected to the indirect route chosen by the poet for his +troopers. Scott gave the true poetic answer, that it pleased him +to take them by the road chosen. He is careful, however, to +assign (11.6-8) an adequate reason for his preference.<br> +<br> +<b>line 16. wan</b>, won, gained; still used in Scotland. Cp. +Principal Shairp’s ‘Bush Aboon Traquair’:-<br> +<br> + ‘And then they <i>wan</i> a rest,<br> + The lownest an’ the best,<br> + I’ Traquair kirkyard when a’ was +dune.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 19. Lammermoor</b>. ‘See notes to the Bride of +Lammermoor, Waverley Novels, vols. xiii. and +xiv.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 22</b>. ‘The village of Gifford lies about four +miles from Haddington; close to it is Yester House, the seat of +the Marquis of Tweeddale, and a little farther up the stream, +which descends from the hills of Lammermoor, are the remains of +the old castle of the family.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +Many hold that Gifford and not Gifford-gate, at the outskirts of +Haddington, was the birthplace of John Knox.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza II. line 31</b>. An ivy-bush or garland was a tavern +sign, and the flagon is an appropriate accompaniment. +Chaucer’s Sompnour (Prol. 666) suggested the tavern sign by +his head-gear:-<br> +<br> + ‘A garland hadde he set upon his heed,<br> + As gret as it were for an <i>ale-stake</i>.’<br> +<br> +See note in Clarendon Press ed., and cp. Epilogue of As You Like +It (and note) in same series:-’If it be true that good wine +needs no bush,’ &c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 33</b>. ‘The accommodations of a Scottish +hostelrie, or inn, in the sixteenth century, may be collected +from Dunbar’s admirable tale of “The Friars of +Berwick.” Simon Lawder, “the gay ostlier,” +seems to have lived very comfortably; and his wife decorated her +person with a scarlet kirtle, and a belt of silk and silver, and +rings upon her fingers; and feasted her paramour with rabbits, +capons, partridges, and Bourdeaux wine. At least, if the Scottish +inns were not good, it was not from want of encouragement from +the legislature; who, so early as the reign of James I, not only +enacted, that in all boroughs and fairs there be hostellaries, +having stables and chambers, and provision for man and horse, but +by another statute, ordained that no man, travelling on horse or +foot, should presume to lodge anywhere except in these +hostellaries; and that no person, save innkeepers, should receive +such travellers, under the penalty of forty shillings, for +exercising such hospitality. But, in spite of these provident +enactments, the Scottish hostels are but indifferent, and +strangers continue to find reception in the houses of +individuals.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +It is important to supplement this note by saying that the most +competent judges still doubt whether Dunbar wrote ‘The +Friars of Berwick.’ It is printed among his doubtful +works.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza III</b>. Such a kitchen as that described was common in +Scotland till recent times, and relics of a similar interior +exist in remote parts still. The wide chimney, projecting well +into the floor, formed a capacious tunnel to the roof, and +numerous sitters could be accommodated with comfort in front and +around the fire. Smoke and soot from the wood and peat fuel were +abundant, and the ‘winter cheer,’-hams, venison, +&c.-hung from the uncovered rafters, were well begrimed +before coming to the table.<br> +<br> +<b>line 48</b>. The solan goose frequents Scottish haunts in +summer. There are thousands of them on Ailsa Craig, in the Frith +of Clyde, and on the Bass Rock, in the Frith of Forth, opposite +Tantallon.<br> +<br> +<b>line 49. gammon</b> (O. Fr. <i>gambon</i>, Lat. <i>gamba</i>, +‘joint of a leg’), the buttock or thigh of a hog +salted and dried; the lower end of a flitch.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IV. line 73</b>. ‘The winds of March’ +(Winter’s Tale, iv. 3. 120), are a prominent feature of the +month. The <i>freshness</i> of May has fascinated the poets since +it was told by Chaucer (Knightes’ Tale, 175) how Emelie +arose one fine morning in early summer:-<br> +<br> + ‘Emilie, that fairer was to scene<br> + Than is the lilie on hire stalke grene,<br> + And fresscher than the May with floures newe.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 76</b>. Cp. ‘Jock o’ Hazeldean’:-<br> +<br> + ‘His step is first in peaceful ha’,<br> + His sword in battle keen.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 78. buxom</b> (A. S. <i>bocsum</i>, flexible, obedient, +from <i>bugan</i>, to bend) here means lively, fresh, brisk. Cp. +Henry V, iii. 6. 27:-<br> +<br> + ‘Bardolph, a soldier firm and sound of heart,<br> + And of <i>buxom</i> valour.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VII. line 112</b>. Cp. Spenser’s +Epithalamium:-<br> +<br> + ‘Yet never day so long but late would passe,<br> + Ring ye the bels to make it weare away.’<br> +<br> +A familiar instance of ‘speed’ as a trans. verb is in +Pope’s Odyssey, XV. 83:-’Welcome the coming, speed +the parting guest.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VIII. line 120</b>. St. Valentine’s day is Feb. +14, when birds pair and lovers (till at any rate recent times) +exchange artistic tokens of affection. The latter observance is +sadly degenerated. See Professor Skeat’s note to +‘Parlement of Foules,’ line 309, in Chaucer’s +Minor Poems (Clarendon Press).<br> +<br> +<b>line 122</b>. The myth of Philomela has been a favourite with +English sentimental poets. The Elizabethan Barnefield writes the +typical lyric on the theme. These lines contain the myth :--<br> +<br> + ‘She, poor bird, as all forlorn,<br> + Lean’d her breast against a thorn,<br> + And there sung the dolefullest ditty<br> + That to hear it was great pity.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IX</b>. In days when harvesting was done with the +sickle, reapers from the Highlands and from Ireland came in large +numbers to the Scottish Lowlands and cut the crops. At one time a +piper played characteristic melodies behind the reapers to give +them spirit for their work. Hence comes-<br> +<br> + ‘Wha will gar our shearers shear?<br> + Wha will bind up the brags of weir?’<br> +<br> +in a lyric by Hamilton of Gilbertfield (1665-1751). The +reaper’s song is the later representative of this practice. +See Wordsworth’s ‘Solitary Highland +Reaper’-immortalized by her suggestive and memorable +singing-and compare the pathetic ‘Exile’s Song’ +of Robert Gilfillan (1798-1850):-<br> +<br> + ‘Oh! here no Sabbath bell<br> + Awakes the Sabbath morn;<br> + Nor song of reapers heard<br> + Among the yellow corn.’<br> +<br> +For references to Susquehanna and the home-longing of the exile, +see Campbell’s ‘Gertrude of Wyoming,’ I. i.-vi. +The introduction of reaping-machines has minimised the music and +poetry of the harvest field.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanzas X, XI</b>. The two pictures in the song are very +effectively contrasted both in spirit and style. The +lover’s resting-place has features that recall the house of +Morpheus, ‘Faery Queene,’ I. i. 40-1. Note the +recurrence of the traitor’s doom in Marmion’s +troubled thoughts, in VI. xxxii. The burden <i>‘eleu +loro’</i> has been somewhat uncertainly connected with the +Italian <i>ela loro</i>, ‘alas! for them.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIII. lines 201-7</b>. One of the most striking +illustrations of this is in Shakespeare’s delineation of +Brutus, who is himself made to say (Julius Caesar, ii. I. +18):-<br> +<br> + ‘The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins<br> + Remorse from power.’<br> +<br> +For the sentiment of the text cp. the character of Ordonio in +Coleridge’s ‘Remorse,’ the concentrated force +of whose dying words is terrible, while indicative of native +nobility:-<br> +<br> + ‘I stood in silence like a slave before her<br> + That I might taste the wormwood and the gall,<br> + And satiate this self-accusing heart<br> + With bitterer agonies than death can give.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 211</b>. ‘Among other omens to which faithful +credit is given among the Scottish peasantry, is what is called +the “dead-bell,” explained by my friend James Hogg to +be that tinkling in the ears which the country people regard as +the secret intelligence of some friend’s decease. He tells +a story to the purpose in the “Mountain Bard,” p. 26 +[pp. 31-2, 3rd edit.].’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +Cp. Tickell’s ‘Lucy and Colin,’ and this +perfect stanza in Mickle’s ‘Cumnor Hall,’ +quoted in Introd. to ‘Kenilworth’:-<br> +<br> + ‘The death-bell thrice was heard to ring,<br> + An aerial voice was heard to call,<br> + And thrice the raven flapp’d its wing<br> + Around the towers of Cumnor Hall.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 217</b>. Cp. Midsummer Night’s Dream, v. I. 286: +‘The death of a dear friend would go near to make a man +look sad.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIV. lines 230-5</b>. Cp. the effect of Polonius on the +King (Hamlet, iii. I. 50):-<br> +<br> + ‘How smart a lash that speech doth give my +conscience!’<br> +<br> +Hamlet himself, ib. line 83, says:-<br> +<br> + ‘Thus conscience does make cowards of us +all.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 234</b>. For <b>vail</b> = lower, see close of +Editor’s Preface.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XV. line 243</b>. For <b>practised on</b> = plotted +against, cp. King Lear, iii. 2. 57, ‘Hast practised on +man’s life.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 248-51</b>. See above, II. xxix.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVII. line 286</b>. Cp. Burns’s ‘Bonnie +Doon’:-<br> +<br> + ‘And my fause lover staw my rose,<br> + But ah! he left the thorn wi’ me.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVIII. line 307</b>. Loch Vennachar, in the south of +Perthshire, is the most easterly of the three lakes celebrated in +the ‘Lady of the Lake.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 321</b>. Cp. ‘wonder-wounded hearers,’ +Hamlet, v. I. 265.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIX. line 324. Clerk</b> is a scholar, as in +Chaucer’s ‘Clerk of Oxenford,’ &c., and the +‘learned clerks’ of 2 Henry VI, iv. 7. 76. See below, +VI. xv. 459, ‘clerkly skill.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 325</b>. Alexander III (1240-1286) came to the throne at +the age of nine, and proved himself a vigorous and large-hearted +king. He was killed by a fall from his horse, near Kinghorn, +Fife, where there is a suitable monument to his memory. The +contemporary lament for his death bewails him as one that +‘Scotland led in love and lee.’ Sir Walter Scott +(Introductory Remarks to ‘Border Minstrelsy’) calls +him ‘the last Scottish king of the pure Celtic +race.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 333</b>. ‘A vaulted hall under the ancient castle +of Gifford, or Yester (for it bears either name indifferently), +the construction of which has, from a very remote period, been +ascribed to magic. The Statistical Account of the Parish of +Garvald and Baro, gives the following account of the present +state of this castle and apartment:-”Upon a peninsula, +formed by the water of Hopes on the east, and a large rivulet on +the west, stands the ancient castle of Yester. Sir David +Dalrymple, in his annals, relates that ‘Hugh Gifford de +Yester died in 1267; that in his castle there was a capacious +cavern, formed by magical art, and called in the country Bo-Hall, +i.e. Hobgoblin Hall.’ A stair of twenty-four steps led +down to this apartment, which is a large and spacious hall, with +an arched roof; and though it hath stood for so many centuries, +and been exposed to the external air for a period of fifty or +sixty years, it is still as firm and entire as if it had only +stood a few years. From the floor of this hall, another stair of +thirty-six steps leads down to a pit which hath a communication +with Hopes-water. A great part of the walls of this large and +ancient castle are still standing. There is a tradition that the +castle of Yester was the last fortification, in this country, +that surrendered to General Gray, sent into Scotland by Protector +Somerset.”-<i>Statistical Account</i>, vol. xiii. I have +only to add, that, in 1737, the Goblin Hall was tenanted by the +Marquis of Tweedale’s falconer, as I learn from a poem by +Boyse, entitled “Retirement,” written upon visiting +Yester. It is now rendered inaccessible by the fall of the +stair.<br> +<br> +‘Sir David Dalrymple’s authority for the anecdote is +in Fordun, whose words are:-”A. D. MCCLXVII. <i>Hugo +Giffard de Yester moritur; cujus castrum, vel saltem caveam, et +donglonem, arte daemonica antique relationes ferunt fabrifactas: +nam ibidem habetur mirabilis specus subterraneus, opere mirifico +constructus, magno terrarum spatio protelatus, qui communiter +BO-HALL appellatus est.</i>” Lib. x. cap. 21.-Sir David +conjectures, that Hugh de Gifford must either have been a very +wise man, or a great oppressor.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XX. line 354</b>. ‘In 1263, Haco, King of Norway, +came into the Frith of Clyde with a powerful armament, and made a +descent at Largs, in Ayrshire. Here he was encountered and +defeated, on the 2nd October, by Alexander III. Haco retreated to +Orkney, where he died soon after this disgrace to his arms. There +are still existing, near the place of battle, many barrows, some +of which, having been opened, were found, as usual, to contain +bones and urns.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 358</b>. Ayrshire in early times comprised three +divisions, Cunninghame in the north, Kyle between the Irvine and +the Doon, and Carrick to the south of that stream. Burns, by his +song ‘There was a Lad was born in Kyle,’ has +immortalised the middle division, which an old proverb had +distinguished as productive of men, in contradistinction to the +dairy produce and the stock of the other two.<br> +<br> +<b>line 362</b>. ‘“Magicians, as is well known, were +very curious in the choice and form of their vestments. Their +caps are oval, or like pyramids, with lappets on each side, and +fur within. Their gowns are long, and furred with fox-skins, +under which they have a linen garment reaching to the knee. Their +girdles are three inches broad, and have many cabalistical names, +with crosses, trines, and circles inscribed on them. Their shoes +should be of new russet leather, with a cross cut upon them. +Their knives are dagger-fashion; and their swords have neither +guard nor scabbard.”-See these, and many other particulars, +in the Discourse concerning Devils and Spirits, annexed to +REGINALD SCOTT’S <i>Discovery of Witchcraft</i>, edition +1665.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 369</b>. Scott quotes thus from Reginald Scott’s +‘Discovery of Witchcraft’ (1665):-<br> +<br> +‘A pentacle is a piece of fine linen, folded with five +corners, according to the five senses, and suitably inscribed +with characters. This the magician extends towards the spirits +which he invokes, when they are stubborn and rebellious, and +refuse to be conformable unto the ceremonies and rights of +magic.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 373</b>. The term ‘Combust’ is applied to the +moon or the planets, when, through being not more than eight and +a half degrees from the sun, they are invisible in his light. +Chaucer, in the ‘Astrolabe,’ has ‘that he be +not retrograd ne <i>combust</i>.’ ‘Retrograde’ +is the term descriptive of the motion of the planets from east +to west. This is the case when the planets are visible on the +side opposite to the sun. See Airy’s ‘Popular +Astronomy,’ p. 124. ‘Trine’ refers to the +appearance of planets ‘distant from each other 120°, or +the third part of the zodiac. ‘Trine was considered a +favourable conjunction. Cp. note on Par. Lost, X. 659, in +Clarendon Press Milton-<br> +<br> + ‘In sextile, square, and <i>trine</i>, and +opposite.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXII. line 407</b>. ‘It is a popular article of +faith that those who are born on Christmas or Good Friday have +the power of seeing spirits and even of commanding them. The +Spaniards imputed the haggard and downcast looks of their Philip +II to the disagreeable visions to which this privilege subjected +him.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 408</b>. See St. Matthew xxvii. 50-53.<br> +<br> +<b>line 415</b>. Richard I of England (1189-99) could not himself +have presented the sword, but the line is a spirited example of +poetic licence.<br> +<br> +<b>line 416. Tide what tide</b> is happen what may. Cp. Thomas +the Rhymer’s remarkable forecast regarding the family of +Haig in Scott’s country;-<br> +<br> + ‘Betide, betide, whate’er betide,<br> + Haig shall be Haig of Bemerside.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 420</b>. Alexander III was the last of his line, which +included three famous Malcolms, viz. Malcolm II, grandfather of +the ‘gracious Duncan,’ who died in 1033; Malcolm +Canmore, who fell at Alnwick in 1093; and Malcolm IV, ‘The +Maiden,’ who was only 34 at his death in 1165. The +reference here is probably to Canmore.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIII. line 438</b>. See Chambers’s +‘Encyclopaedia,’ articles on +‘Earth-houses’ and ‘Picts’ +Houses.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 445</b>. Legends tell of belated travellers being +spell-bound in such spots.<br> +<br> +<b>line 461</b>. The reference is to Edward I, who went as Prince +Edward to Palestine in 1270, so that the legend at this point +embodies an anachronism, Edward became king in 1274. His shield +and banner were emblazoned with ‘three leopards courant of +fine gold set on red.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIV. line 472</b>. Largs, on the coast of Ayrshire, +opposite Bute.<br> +<br> +<b>line 479</b>. The ravens on the Norse banners were said to +flutter their wings before a victory, and to let them droop in +prospect of a defeat.<br> +<br> +<b>line 487</b>. ‘For an account of the expedition to +Copenhagen in 1801, see Southey’s “Life of +Nelson,” chap. vii.’-LOCKHART. There may possibly be +a reference to the bombardment of Copenhagen in 1807.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXV. line 497</b>. The slight wound was due to the +start mentioned in line 462. He had been warned against letting +his heart fail him.<br> +<br> +<b>line 503</b>. Scott quotes thus from the essay on ‘Fairy +Superstitions’ in the ‘Border Minstrelsy,’ vol. +ii., to show ‘whence many of the particulars of the combat +between Alexander III and the Goblin Knight are +derived’:-<br> +<br> +‘Gervase of Tilbury (<i>Otia Imperial ap. Script, rer. +Brunsvic</i>, vol. i. p. 797), relates the following popular +story concerning a fairy knight: “Osbert, a bold and +powerful baron, visited a noble family in the vicinity of +Wandlebury, in the bishopric of Ely. Among other stories related +in the social circle of his friends, who, according to custom, +amused each other by repeating ancient tales and traditions, he +was informed, that if any knight, unattended, entered an adjacent +plain by moonlight, and challenged an adversary to appear, he +would be immediately encountered by a spirit in the form of a +knight. Osbert resolved to make the experiment, and set out, +attended by a single squire, whom he ordered to remain without +the limits of the plain, which was surrounded by an ancient +intrenchment. On repeating the challenge, he was instantly +assailed by an adversary, whom he quickly unhorsed, and seized +the reins of his steed. Daring this operation, his ghostly +opponent sprung up, and darting his spear, like a javelin, at +Osbert, wounded him in the thigh. Osbert returned in triumph with +the horse, which he committed to the care of his servants. The +horse was of a sable colour, as well as his whole accoutrements, +and apparently of great beauty and vigour. He remained with his +keeper till cock-crowing, when, with eyes flashing fire, he +reared, spurned the ground, and vanished. On disarming himself, +Osbert perceived that he was wounded, and that one of his steel +boots was full of blood.” Gervase adds, that, “as +long as he lived, the scar of his wound opened afresh on the +anniversary of the eve on which he encountered the spirit.” +Less fortunate was the gallant Bohemian knight, who travelling by +night with a single companion, “came in sight of a fairy +host, arrayed under displayed banners. Despising the +remonstrances of his friend, the knight pricked forward to break +a lance with a champion, who advanced from the ranks apparently +in defiance. His companion beheld the Bohemian overthrown, horse +and man, by his aerial adversary; and returning to the spot next +morning, he found the mangled corpses of the knight and +steed.”-<i>Hierarchy of Blessed Angels</i>, p. 554.<br> +<br> +‘Besides these instances of Elfin chivalry above quoted, +many others might be alleged in support of employing fairy +machinery in this manner. The forest of Glenmore, in the North +Highlands, is believed to be haunted by a spirit called +<i>Lham-dearg</i>, in the array of an ancient warrior, having a +bloody hand, from which he takes his name. He insists upon those +with whom he meets doing battle with him; and the clergyman, who +makes up an account of the district, extant in the Macfarlane +MS., in the Advocates’ Library, gravely assures us, that, +in his time, <i>Lham-dearg</i> fought with three brothers whom he +met in his walk, none of whom long survived the ghostly conflict. +Barclay, in his “Euphormion,” gives a singular +account of an officer who had ventured, with his servant, rather +to intrude upon a haunted house, in a town in Flanders, than to +put up with worse quarters elsewhere. After taking the usual +precautions of providing fires, lights, and arms, they watched +till midnight, when, behold! the severed arm of a man dropped +from the ceiling; this was followed by the legs, the other arm, +the trunk, and the head of the body, all separately. The members +rolled together, united themselves in the presence of the +astonished soldiers, and formed a gigantic warrior, who defied +them both to combat. Their blows, although they penetrated the +body, and amputated the limbs, of their strange antagonist, had, +as the reader may easily believe, little effect on an enemy who +possessed such powers of self-union; nor did his efforts make +more effectual impression upon them. How the combat terminated I +do not exactly remember, and have not the book by me; but I think +the spirit made to the intruders on his mansion the usual +proposal, that they should renounce their redemption; which being +declined, he was obliged to retreat.<br> +<br> +‘The most singular tale of this kind is contained in an +extract communicated to me by my friend Mr. Surtees of +Mainsforth, in the Bishopric, who copied it from a MS. note in a +copy of Burthogge “On the Nature of Spirits,” 8vo, +1694, which had been the property of the late Mr. Gill, +attorney-general to Egerton, Bishop of Durham. “It was +not,” says my obliging correspondent” in Mr. +Gill’s own hand, but probably an hundred years older, and +was said to be, <i>E libro Convent. Dunelm. per T. C. +extract</i>., whom I believe to have been Thomas Cradocke, Esq., +barrister, who held several offices under the See of Durham a +hundred years ago. Mr. Gill was possessed of most of his +manuscripts.” The extract, which, in fact, suggested the +introduction of the tale into the present poem, runs thus:-<br> +<br> +<i>“Rem miram hujusmodi que nostris temporibus evenit, +teste viro nobili ac fide dignissimo, enarrare haud pigebit. +Radulphus Bulmer, cum e castris, quae tunc temporis prope Norham +posita erant, oblectationis causa, exiisset, ac in ulteriore +Tuedae ripa praaedam cum canibus leporariis insequeretur, forte +cum Scoto quodam nobili, sibi antehac, ut videbatur, familiariter +cognito, congressus est; ac, ut fas erat inter inimicos, +flagrante bello, brevissima interrogationis mora interposita, +alterutros invicem incitato cursu infestis animis petiere. +Noster, primo occursu, equo praeacerrimo hostis impetu labante, +in terram eversus pectore et capite laeso, sanguinem, mortuo +similis, evomebat. Quern ut se aegre habentem comiter allocutus +est alter, pollicitusque, modo auxilium non abnegaret, monitisque +obtemperans ab omni rerum sacrarum cogitatione abstineret, nec +Deo, Deiparae Virgini, Sanctove ullo, preces aut vota efferret +vel inter sese conciperet, se brevi eum sanum validumque +restiturum esse. Prae angore oblata conditio accepta est; ac +veterator ille nescio quid obscaeni murmuris insusurrans, +prehensa manu, dicto citius in pedes sanum ut antea sublevavit. +Noster autem, maxima prae rei inaudita novitate formidine +perculsus, MI JESU! exclamat, vel quid simile; ac subito +respiciens nec hostem nec ullum alium conspicit, equum solum +gravissimo nuper casu afflictum, per summam pacem in rivo fluvii +pascentem. Ad castra itaque mirabundus revertens, fidei dubius, +rem primo occultavit, dein, confecto bello, Confessori suo totam +asseruit. Delusoria procul dubio res tota, ac mala veteratoris +illius aperitur fraus, qua hominem Christianum ad vetitum tale +auxilium pelliceret. Nomen utcunque illius (nobilis alias ac +clari) reticendum duco, cum haud dubium sit quin Diabolus, Deo +permittente, formam quam libuerit, immo angeli lucis, sacro oculo +Dei teste, posse assumere.”<br> +<br> +</i>‘The MS. chronicle, from which Mr. Cradocke took this +curious extract, cannot now be found in the Chapter Library of +Durham, or, at least, has hitherto escaped the researches of my +friendly correspondent.<br> +<br> +‘Lindesay is made to allude to this adventure of Ralph +Bulmer, as a well-known story, in the 4th Canto, Stanza xxii. p. +103.<br> +<br> +‘The northern champions of old were accustomed peculiarly +to search for, and delight in, encounters with such military +spectres. See a whole chapter on the subject in BARTHOLINUS <i>De +Causis contemptae Mortis a Danis</i>, p. 253.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 508</b>. Sir Gilbert Hay, as a faithful adherent of +Bruce, was created Lord High Constable of Scotland. See note in +‘Lord of the Isles,’ II. xiii. How ‘the Haies +had their beginning of nobilitie’ is told in +Holinshed’s ‘Scottish Chronicle,’ I. 308.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVI. line 510. Quaigh</b>, ‘a wooden cup, +composed of staves hooped together.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVIII. line 551. Darkling</b>, adv. (not adj. as in +Keats’s ‘darkling way’ in ‘Eve of St. +Agnes’), really means ‘in the dark.’ Cp. +‘Lady of the Lake,’ IV. (Alice Brand):-<br> +<br> + ‘For darkling was the battle tried’;<br> +<br> +and see Midsummer Night’s Dream, ii. 2. 86; King Lear, i. +4. 237. Lord Tennyson, like Keats, uses the word as an adj. in +‘In Memoriam,’ xcix:-<br> +<br> + ‘Who tremblest through thy darkling red.’<br> +<br> +Cp. below, V. Introd. 23, ‘darkling politician.’ For +scholarly discussion of the term, see <i>Notes and Queries</i>, +VII iii. 191.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXX. lines 585-9</b>. Iago understands the +‘contending flow’ of passions when in a glow of +self-satisfied feeling he exclaims;<br> +<br> + ‘Work on,<br> + My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are +caught.’<br> + <i>Othello</i>, iv. +I. 44.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXI. line 597</b>. ‘Yode, used by old poets for +<i>went</i>.’-SCOTT. It is a variant of ‘yod’ +or ‘yede,’ from A. S. <i>eode</i>, I went. Cp. Lat. +<i>eo</i>, I go. See Clarendon Press ‘Specimens of Early +English,’ II. 71:-<br> +<br> + ‘Thair scrippes, quer thai rade or <i>yode</i>,<br> + Tham failed neuer o drinc ne fode.’<br> +<br> +Spenser writes, ‘Faerie Queene,’ II. vii. 2:-<br> +<br> + ‘So, long he <i>yode</i>, yet no adventure +found.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 599. Selle</b>, saddle. Cp. ‘Faerie Queene,’ +II. v. 4:-<br> +<br> + On his horse necke before the quilted +<i>sell</i>.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH</b>.<br> +<br> +‘James Skene, Esq., of Rubislaw, Aberdeenshire, was Cornet +in the Royal Edinburgh Light Horse Volunteers; and Sir Walter +Scott was Quartermaster of the same corps.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +For Skene’s account of the origin of this regiment, due in +large measure to ‘Scott’s ardour,’ see +‘Life of Scott,’ i. 258.<br> +<br> +<b>line 2</b>. See Taming of the Shrew, i. 4. 135, and 2 Henry +IV, v. 3. 143, where a line of an old song is quoted:-<br> +<br> + ‘Where is the life that late I led?’<br> +<br> +<b>line 3</b>. See As you Like It, ii. 7. 12.<br> +<br> +<b>line 7</b>. Scott made the acquaintance of Skene, recently +returned from a lengthened stay in Saxony, about the end of 1796, +and profited much by his friend’s German knowledge and his +German books. In later days he utilized suggestions of +Skene’s in ‘Ivanhoe’ and ‘Quentin +Durward.’ See ‘Life of Scott,’ <i>passim</i>, +and specially i. 257, and iv. 342.<br> +<br> +<b>line 37. Blackhouse</b>, a farm ‘situated on the +Douglas-burn, then tenanted by a remarkable family, to which I +have already made allusion-that of William +Laidlaw.’-’Life,’ i. 328. Ettrick Pen is a hill +in the south of Selkirkshire.<br> +<br> +<b>line 46</b>. ‘Various illustrations of the Poetry and +Novels of Sir Walter Scott, from designs by Mr. Skene, have since +been published.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 48</b>. Probably the first reference in poetry to the +Scottish heather is, says Prof. Veitch (‘Feeling for +Nature,’ ii. 52), in Thomson’s ‘Spring,’ +where the bees are represented as daring<br> +<br> + ‘The purple heath, or where the wild thyme +grows.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 55-97</b>. With this striking typical winter piece, cp. +in Thomson’s ‘Winter,’ the vivid and pathetic +picture beginning:--<br> +<br> + ‘In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain<br> + Disastered stands.’<br> +<br> +See also Burns’s ‘Winter Night,’ which by these +lines may have suggested Scott’s ‘beamless +sun’:-<br> +<br> + ‘When Phoebus gies a short-liv’d +glow’r<br> + Far south the lift;<br> + Dim-dark’ning thro’ the flaky show’r,<br> + Or whirling drift.’<br> +<br> +The ‘tired ploughman,’ too, may owe something to this +farther line of Burns:-<br> +<br> + ‘Poor labour sweet in sleep was +lock’d’;<br> +<br> +while the animals seeking shelter may well follow this inimitable +and touching description:-<br> +<br> + ‘List’ning the doors an’ winnocks +rattle,<br> + I thought me on the ourie cattle,<br> + Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle<br> + O’ winter war,<br> + And thro’ the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle<br> + Beneath a scaur.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 91</b>. ‘I cannot help here mentioning that, on the +night on which these lines were written, suggested as they were +by a sudden fall of snow, beginning after sunset, an unfortunate +man perished exactly in the manner here described, and his body +was next morning found close to his own house. The accident +happened within five miles of the farm of +Ashestiel.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 101</b>. ‘The Scottish Harvest-home.’-SCOTT. +Perhaps the name ‘kirn’ is due to the fact that a +churnful of cream is a feature of the night’s +entertainment. In Chambers’s Burns, iii. 151, Robert +Ainslie gives an account of a kirn at Ellisland in 1790.<br> +<br> +<b>line 102</b>. Cp. the ‘wood-notes wild’ with which +Milton credits Shakespeare, ‘L’Allegro,’ +131.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 104-5</b>. The ideal pastoral life of the Golden +Age.<br> +<br> +<b>line 132</b>. ‘Sir William Forbes of Pitsligo, Baronet; +unequalled, perhaps, in the degree of individual affection +entertained for him by his friends, as well as in the general +respect and esteem of Scotland at large. His “Life of +Beattie,” whom he befriended and patronised in life, as +well as celebrated after his decease, was not long published, +before the benevolent and affectionate biographer was called to +follow the subject of his narrative. This melancholy event very +shortly succeeded the marriage of the friend, to whom this +introduction is addressed, with one of Sir William’s +daughters.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 133</b>. ‘The Minstrel’ is Beattie’s +chief poem; it is one of the few poems in well-written Spenserian +stanza.<br> +<br> +<b>line 147</b>. Ps. lxviii. 5.<br> +<br> +<b>line 151</b>. Prov. xxvii. 10.<br> +<br> +<b>line 155</b>. For account of Sir W. Forbes, see his +autobiographical ‘Memoirs of a Banking House’; +Chambers’s ‘Eminent Scotsmen’; and +‘Dictionary of National Biography.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 163</b>. Cp. Pope, ‘Essay on Man,’ IV. 380, +and Boileau, ‘L’Art Poetique, ‘Chant I:-<br> +<br> + ‘Heureux qui, dans ses vers, sait d’une voix +legere<br> + Passer du grave au doux, du plaisant an severe.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 172</b>. ‘Tirante el Blanco,’ a Spanish +romance by Johann Martorell (1480), praised in ‘Don +Quixote.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 174</b>. ‘Camp was a favourite dog of the +Poet’s, a bull terrier of extraordinary sagacity. He is +introduced in Raeburn’s portrait of Sir Walter Scott, now +at Dalkeith Palace.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 181</b>. Cp. Tempest, v. i. 93.<br> +<br> +<b>line 191</b>. ‘Colin Mackenzie, Esq., of Portmore. See +“Border Minstrelsy,” iv. 351.’-LOCKHART. +Mackenzie had been Scott’s friend from boyhood, and he +received his copy of ‘Marmion’ at Lympstone, where he +was, owing to feeble health, as mentioned in the text. He was a +son-in-law of Sir William Forbes, and in acknowledging receipt of +the poem he said, ‘I must thank you for the elegant and +delicate allusion in which you express your friendship for +myself-Forbes-and, above all, that sweet memorial of his late +excellent father.’-’Life of Scott,’ ii. +152.<br> +<br> +<b>line 194</b>. ‘Sir William Rae of St. Catherine’s, +Bart., subsequently Lord Advocate of Scotland, was a +distinguished member of the volunteer corps to which Sir Walter +Scott belonged; and he, the Poet, Mr. Skene, Mr. Mackenzie, and a +few other friends, had formed themselves into a little +semi-military club, the meetings of which were held at their +family supper tables in rotation.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 195</b>. ‘The late Sir William Forbes of Pitsligo, +Bart., son of the author of the “Life of +Beattie.”‘-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 196</b>. The Mimosa pudica, or sensitive plant. See +Shelley’s poem on the subject:-<br> +<br> + ‘The Sensitive Plant was the earliest<br> + Upgathered into the bosom of rest;<br> + A sweet child weary of its delight,<br> + The feeblest and yet the favourite,<br> + Cradled within the embrace of night.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 200</b>. Cp. ‘L’Allegro,’ 31, +‘Sport that wrinkled Care derides.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 206</b>. See King Lear, iii. 4. 138, where Edgar, as Poor +Tom, says that he has had ‘three suits to his back, six +shirts to his body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO FOURTH</b>.<br> +<br> +<b>line 31</b>. ‘<i>Alias</i> “Will o’ the +Wisp.” This personage is a strolling demon or <i>esprit +follet</i>, who, once upon a time, got admittance into a +monastery as a scullion, and played the monks many pranks. He was +also a sort of Robin Goodfellow, and Jack o’ Lanthern. It +is in allusion to this mischievous demon that Milton’s +clown speaks,-<br> +<br> + “She was pinched, and pulled, she said,<br> + And he by <i>Friar’s lanthern</i> led.”<br> +<br> +‘“The History of Friar Rush” is of extreme +rarity, and, for some time, even the existence of such a book was +doubted, although it is expressly alluded to by Reginald Scot, in +his “Discovery of Witchcraft.” I have perused a copy +in the valuable library of my friend Mr. Heber; and I observe, +from Mr. Beloe’s “Anecdotes of Literature,” +that there is one in the excellent collection of the Marquis of +Stafford.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +It may be added, on the authority of Keightley, that Friar Rush +‘haunted houses, not fields, and was never the same with +Jack-o’-the-Lanthorn.’ See note on Milton’s +‘L’Allegro,’ 104, in Clarendon Press edition, +also Preface to Midsummer Night’s Dream in same series.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IV. line 69</b>. Humbie and Saltoun are adjoining +parishes in S. W. of Haddingtonshire. To this day there is a +charm in the remote rural character of the district. There are, +about Humble in particular, wooded glades that might well +represent the remains of the scene witnessed by Marmion and his +troopers. East and West Saltoun are two decayed villages, about +five miles S. W. of the county town. Between them is Saltoun +Hall, the seat of the Fletchers.<br> +<br> +<b>line 91</b>. ‘William Caxton, the earliest English +printer, was born in Kent, A. D. 1412, and died 1401. Wynken de +Worde was his next successor in the production of those<br> +<br> + “Rare volumes, dark with tarnished gold,”<br> +<br> +which are now the delight of bibliomaniacs.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VI. line 119</b>. The four heraldic terms used are for +the colours-red, silver, gold, and blue.<br> +<br> +<b>line 120</b>, The King-at-arms was superintendent of the +heralds.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VII. line 133</b>. Sir David Lyndsay’s exposure +of ecclesiastical abuses in his various satires, especially in +his ‘Complaynts’ and his Dialog, ‘powerfully +forwarded the movement that culminated in the Reformation. It +would, however, be a mistake to consider him an avowed Protestant +reformer. He was concerned about the existing wrongs both of +Church and State, and thought of rectifying these without +revolutionary measures.<br> +<br> +<b>line 135</b>. The cap of the Lion King’ was of scarlet +velvet turned up with ermine.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 141-4</b>. The double tressure was an ornamental tracing +round the shield, at a fixed distance from the border. As to the +fleur-de-lis (flower of the lily, emblem of France) Scott quotes +Boethius and Buchanan as saying that it was ‘first assumed +by Achaius, king of Scotland, contemporary of Charlemagne, and +founder of, the celebrated League with France.’ Historical +evidence, however, would seem to show that ‘the lion is +first seen on the seal of Alexander II, and the tressure on that +of Alexander III.’ This is the heraldic description of the +arms of Scotland: ‘Or, a lion rampant gules, armed and +langued azure, within a double tressure flory counterflory of +<i>fleur-de-lis</i> of the second.’ The supporters are +‘two unicorns argent maned and unguled, or gorged with open +crowns.’ The crest is ‘a lion sejant affronte gules +crowned or,’ &c. The adoption of the thistle as the +national Scottish emblem is wrapt in obscurity, although an early +poet attributes it to a suggestion of Venus.<br> +<br> +<b>line 153</b>. Scott mentions Chalmers’s edition of +Lyndsay’s works, published in 1806. More recent and very +satisfactory editions are those of Dr. David Laing, (1) a library +edition in three volumes, and (2) a popular edition in two. +Lyndsay was born about 1490 and died about 1555. The Mount was +his estate, near Cupar-Fife. ‘I am uncertain,’ says +Scott, ‘if I abuse poetic license, by introducing Sir David +Lindesay in the character of Lion-Herald, sixteen years before he +obtained that office. At any rate, I am not the first who has +been guilty of that anachronism; for the author of “Flodden +Field” despatches <i>Dallamount</i>, which can mean nobody +but Sir David de la Mont, to France on the message of defiance +from James IV to Henry VIII. It was often an office imposed on +the Lion King-at-arms, to receive foreign ambassadors; and +Lindesay himself did this honour to Sir Ralph Sadler, in 1539-40. +Indeed, the oath of the Lion, in its first article, bears +reference to his frequent employment upon royal messages and +embassies. The office of heralds, in feudal times, being held of +the utmost importance, the inauguration of the Kings-at-arms, who +presided over their colleges, was proportionally solemn. In fact, +it was the mimicry of a royal coronation, except that the unction +was made with wine instead of oil. In Scotland, a namesake and +kinsman of Sir David Lindesay, inaugurated in 1502, “was +crowned by King James with the ancient crown of Scotland, which +was used before the Scottish Kings assumed a close Crown;” +and, on occasion of the same solemnity, dined at the King’s +table, wearing the crown. It is probable that the coronation of +his predecessor was not less solemn. So sacred was the +herald’s office, that, in 1515, Lord Drummond was by +Parliament declared guilty of treason, and his lands forfeited, +because he had struck, with his fist, the Lion King-at-arms, when +he reproved him for his follies. Nor was he restored, but at the +Lion’s earnest solicitation.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza X. line 194</b>. ‘A large ruinous castle on the +banks of the Tyne, about ten miles from Edinburgh. As indicated +in the text, it was built at different times, and with a very +differing regard to splendour and accommodation. The oldest part +of the building is a narrow keep, or tower, such as formed the +mansion of a lesser Scottish baron; but so many additions have +been made to it, that there is now a large courtyard, surrounded +by buildings of different ages. The eastern front of the court is +raised above a portico, and decorated with entablatures, bearing +anchors. All the stones of this front are cut into diamond +facets, the angular projections of which have an uncommonly rich +appearance. The inside of this part of the building appears to +have contained a gallery of great length, and uncommon elegance. +Access was given to it by a magnificent stair-case, now quite +destroyed. The soffits are ornamented with twining cordage and +rosettes: and the whole seems to have been far more splendid than +was usual in Scottish castles. The castle belonged originally to +the Chancellor, Sir William Crichton, and probably owed to him +its first enlargement, as well as its being taken by the Earl of +Douglas, who imputed to Crichton’s counsels the death of +his predecessor, Earl William, beheaded in Edinburgh Castle, with +his brother, in 1440. It is said to have been totally demolished +on that occasion; but the present state of the ruin shows the +contrary. In 1483 it was garrisoned by Lord Crichton, then its +proprietor, against King James III, whose displeasure he had +incurred by seducing his sister Margaret, in revenge, it is said, +for the Monarch having dishonoured his bed. From the Crichton +family the castle passed to that of the Hepburns, Earls Bothwell; +and when the forfeitures of Stewart, the last Earl Bothwell, were +divided, the barony and cattle of Crichton fell to the share of +the Earl of Buccleuch. They were afterwards the property of the +Pringles of Clifton, and are now that of Sir John Callander, +Baronet. It were to be wished the proprietor would take a little +pains to preserve those splendid remains of antiquity, which are +at present used as a fold for sheep, and wintering cattle; +although, perhaps, there are very few ruins in Scotland which +display so well the style and beauty of +castle-architecture.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +The ruin is now carefully protected, visitors being admitted on +application at Crichtoun Manse adjoining.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XI. line 232</b>. ‘The castle of Crichton has a +dungeon vault, called the <i>Massy More</i>. The epithet, which +is not uncommonly applied to the prisons of other old castles in +Scotland, is of Saracenic origin. It occurs twice in the +<i>“Epistolae Itineriae”</i> of Tollius. +<i>“Carcer subterraneus, sive, ut Mauri appellant, +MAZMORRA,”</i> p. 147; and again, <i>“Coguntur omnes +Captivi sub noctem in ergastula subterranea, quae Turcae +Algezerani vocant MAZMORRAS,”</i> p. 243. The same word +applies to the dungeons of the ancient Moorish castles in Spain, +and serves to show from what nation the Gothic style of castle +building was originally derived.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +See further, Sir W. Scott’s ‘Provincial +Antiquities,’ vol. i.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XII. line 249</b>. ‘He was the second Earl of +Bothwell, and fell in the field of Flodden, where, according to +an ancient English poet, he distinguished himself by a furious +attempt to retrieve the day:-<br> +<br> + “Then on the Scottish part, right proud,<br> + The Earl of Bothwell then out brast,<br> + And stepping forth, with stomach good,<br> + Into the enemies’ throng he thrast;<br> + And <i>Bothwell! Bothwell!</i> cried bold,<br> + To cause his souldiers to ensue,<br> + But there he caught a wellcome cold,<br> + The Englishmen straight down him threw.<br> + Thus Haburn through his hardy heart<br> + His fatal fine in conflict found,”&c.<br> + <i>Flodden Field</i>, a Poem; edited by H. +Weber. Edin. 1808.’--SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 254</b>. ‘Adam was grandfather to James, Earl of +Bothwell, too well known in the history of Queen +Mary.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIII. line 260</b>. The Borough-moor extended from +Edinburgh south to the Braid Hills.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIV. line 280</b>. Scott quotes from Lindsay of +Pitscottie the story of the apparition seen at Linlithgow by +James IV, when undergoing his annual penance for having taken the +field against his father. Some of the younger men about the Court +had devised what they felt might be an impressive warning to the +King against going to war, and their show of supernatural +interference was well managed. Lindsay’s narrative proceeds +thus:-<br> +<br> +‘The King came to Lithgow, where he happened to be for the +time at the Council, very sad and dolorous, making his devotion +to God, to send him good chance and fortune in his voyage. In +this meantime, there came a man, clad in a blue gown, in at the +kirk door, and belted about him in a roll of linen-cloth; a pair +of brotikings1 on his feet, to the great of his legs; with all +other hose and clothes conform thereto; but he had nothing on his +head, but syde2 red yellow hair behind, and on his haffets3, +which wan down to his shoulders; but his forehead was bald and +bare. He seemed to be a man of two-and-fifty years, with a great +pike-staff in his hand, and came first forward among the lords, +crying and speiring4 for the King, saying, he desired to speak +with him. While, at the last, he came where the King was sitting +in the desk, at his prayers, but when he saw the King, he made +him little reverence or salutation, but leaned down groffling on +the desk before him, and said to him in this manner, as after +follows: “Sir King, my mother hath sent me to you, desiring +you not to pass, at this time, where thou art purposed; for if +thou does, thou wilt not fare well in thy journey, nor none that +passeth with thee. Further, she bade thee mell5 with no woman, +nor use their counsel, nor let them touch thy body, nor thou +theirs; for, if thou do it, thou wilt be confounded and brought +to shame.”<br> +--------------------------------------------------------<br> +buskins1 long2 cheeks3 asking4 meddle5<br> +--------------------------------------------------------<br> +<br> +‘By this man had spoken thir words unto the King’s +grace, the evening-song was near done, and the King paused on +thir words, studying to give him an answer; but, in the meantime, +before the King’s eyes, and in the presence of all the +lords that were about him for the time, this man vanished away, +and could no ways be seen nor comprehended, but vanished away as +he had been a blink of the sun, or a whip of the whirlwind, and +could no more be seen. I heard say. Sir David Lindesay, +Lyon-herauld, and John Inglis the marshal, who were, at that +time, young men, and special servants to the King’s grace, +were standing presently beside the King, who thought to have laid +hands on this man, that they might have speired further tidings +at him: But all for nought; they could not touch him; for he +vanished away betwixt them, and was no more seen.’<br> +Buchanan, in more elegant, though not more impressive language, +tells the same story, and quotes the personal information of our +Sir David Lindesay: <i>‘In iis, (i.e. qui propius +astiterant) fuit David Lindesius, Montanus, homo spectatae fidei +et probitatis, nec a literarum studiis alienus, et cujus totius +vitae tenor longissime a mentiendo aberat; a quo nisi ego haec +uti tradidi, pro certis accepissem, ut vulgatam vanis rumoribus +fabulam omissurus eram</i>.”-Lib. xiii. The King’s +throne, in St. Catherine’s aisle, which he had constructed +for himself, with twelve stalls for the Knights Companions of the +Order of the Thistle, is still shown as the place where the +apparition was seen. I know not by what means St. Andrew got the +credit of having been the celebrated monitor of James IV; for the +expression in Lindesay’s narrative, “My mother has +sent me,” could only be used by St. John, the adopted son +of the Virgin Mary. The whole story is so well attested, that we +have only the choice between a miracle or an imposture. Mr. +Pinkerton plausibly argues, from the caution against +incontinence, that the Queen was privy to the scheme of those who +had recourse to this expedient, to deter King James from his +impolitic war.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XV. line 287</b>. ‘In Scotland there are about +twenty palaces, castles, and remains, or sites of such,<br> +<br> + “Where <i>Scotia’s</i> kings of other +years”<br> +<br> +had their royal home.<br> +<br> +‘Linlithgow, distinguished by the combined strength and +beauty of its situation, must have been early selected as a royal +residence. David, who bought the title of saint by his liberality +to the Church, refers several of his charters to his town of +Linlithgow; and in that of Holyrood expressly bestows on the new +monastery all the skins of the rams, ewes, and lambs, belonging +to his castle of Linlitcu, which shall die during the year....The +convenience afforded for the sport of falconry, which was so +great a favourite during the feudal ages, was probably one cause +of the attachment of the ancient Scottish monarchs to Linlithgow +and its fine lake. The sport of hunting was also followed with +success in the neighbourhood, from which circumstance it probably +arises that the ancient arms of the city represent a black +greyhound bitch tied to a tree....The situation of Linlithgow +Palace is eminently beautiful. It stands on a promontory of some +elevation, which advances almost into the midst of the lake. The +form is that of a square court, composed of buildings of four +storeys high, with towers at the angles. The fronts with the +square, and the windows, are highly ornamented, and the size of +the rooms, as well as the width and character of the staircases, +are upon a magnificent scale. One banquet-room is ninety-four +feet long, thirty feet wide, and thirty-three feet high, with a +gallery for music. The King’s wardrobe, or dressing-room, +looking to the west, projects over the walls, so as to have a +delicious prospect on three aides, and is one of the most +enviable boudoirs we have ever seen.’-SIR WALTER +SCOTT’S <i>Provincial Antiquities.-Prose Works</i>, vol. +vii. p. 382.<br> +<br> +<b>line 288</b>. With ‘jovial June’ cp. Gavin +Douglas’s ‘joyous moneth tyme of June,’ in +prologue to the 13th AEneid, ‘ekit to Virgill be Maphaeus +Vegius,’ and the description of the month in +Lyndsay’s ‘Dreme,’ as:-<br> +<br> + ‘Weill bordourit with dasyis of delyte.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 291</b>. ‘I am glad of an opportunity to describe +the cry of the deer by another word than <i>braying</i>, although +the latter has been sanctified by the use of the Scottish +metrical translation of the Psalms. <i>Bell</i> seems to be an +abbreviation of bellow. This silvan sound conveyed great delight +to our ancestors, chiefly, I suppose, from association. A gentle +knight in the reign of Henry VIII, Sir Thomas Wortley, built +Wantley Lodge, in Wancliffe Forest, for the pleasure (as an +ancient inscription testifies) of “listening to the +hart’s <i>bell</i>”‘-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 298</b>. Sauchie-burn, where James III fell, was fought +18 June, 1488., ‘James IV,’ says Scott, ‘after +the battle passed to Stirling, and hearing the monks of the +chapel-royal deploring the death of his father, he was seized +with deep remorse, which manifested itself<br> +in severe penances.’ See below, note on V. ix.<br> +<br> +<b>line 300</b>. ‘When the King saw his own banner +displayed against him, and his son in the faction of his enemies, +he lost the little courage he ever possessed, fled out of the +field, fell from his horse as it started at a woman and +water-pitcher, and was slain, it was not well understood by +whom.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVI. line 312</b>. In the church of St. Michael, +adjoining the palace.<br> +<br> +<b>line 316</b>. The earliest known mention of the thistle as the +national badge is in the inventory of the effects of James III, +Thistles were inscribed on the coins of the next four reigns, and +they were accompanied in the reign of James VI for the first time +by the motto <i>Nemo me impune lacessit</i>. James II of Great +Britain formally inaugurated the Order of the Thistle on 29 May, +1687, but it was not till the reign of Anne, 31 Dec. 1703, that +it became a fully defined legal institution. The Order is also +known as the Order of St. Andrew.-See CHAMBERS’S +<i>Encyclopedia</i>.<br> +<br> +<b>line 318</b>. It was natural and fit that Lyndsay should be +present. It is more than likely that he had a leading hand in the +enterprise. As tutor to the young Prince, it had been a +recognised part of his duty to amuse him by various disguises; +and he was likewise the first Scottish poet with an adequate +dramatic sense.<br> +<br> +<b>line 336</b>. See St. John xix. 25-27.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVII. line 350</b>. The special reference here is to +the influence of Lady Heron. See above, I. xvi. 265, and below, +V. x. 261.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIX</b>. The skilful descriptive touches of this stanza +are noteworthy. Cp. opening passages of Coleridge’s +‘Christabel,’ especially the seven lines beginning, +‘Is the night chilly and dark?’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXI. line 440. Grimly</b> is not unknown as a poetical +adj. ‘Margaret’s <i>grimly</i> ghost,’ in +Beaumont and FIetcher’s ‘Knight of the Burning +Pestle,’ II. i, is a familiar example. See above, p. 194, +line 25, ‘<i>grimly</i> voice.’ For +‘ghast’ as an adj., cp. Keats’s ‘Otho the +Great,’ V. v. 11, ‘How ghast a train!’<br> +<br> +<b>line. 449</b>. See below, V. xxiv, ‘‘Twere long +and needless here to tell,’ and cp. AEneid I. 341:-<br> +<br> + ‘Longa est iniuria, longae<br> + Ambages; sed summa sequar fastigia rerum.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXII. line 461</b>. See above, III. xxv. 503, and +note.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 467-470</b>. Rothiemurchus, near Alvie, co. of +Inverness, on Highland Railway; Tomantoul in co. of Banff, N. E. +of Rothiemurchus; Auchnaslaid in co. of Inverness, near S. W. +border of Aberdeen; Forest of Dromouchty on Inverness border +eastward of Loch Ericht; Glenmore, co-extensive with Caledonian +Canal.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 477-480</b>. Cp. the teaching of Coleridge’s +‘Ancient Mariner’ and ‘Christabel.’ In +the former these stanzas are specially notable:-<br> +<br> + ‘O happy living things! no tongue<br> + Their beauty might declare:<br> + A spring of love gushed from my heart,<br> + And I blessed them unaware:<br> + Sure my kind saint took pity on me,<br> + And I blessed them unaware.<br> +<br> + The selfsame moment I could pray;<br> + And from my neck so free<br> + The Albatross fell off, and sank<br> + Like lead into the sea.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 487. bowne</b> = prepare. See below, V. xx, ‘to +bowne him for the war’; and ‘Lay of the Last +Minstrel,’ V. xx, ‘bowning back to Cumberland.’ +Cp. ‘Piers the Plowman,’ III. 173 (C Text):-<br> +<br> + ‘And bed hem alle ben <i>boun</i> . beggeres and +othere,<br> + To wenden with hem to Westemynstre.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIII. line 490</b>. Dun-Edin = Edwin’s +hill-fort, poetic for Edinburgh.<br> +<br> +<b>line 497</b>. The Braid Hills, S. E. of Edinburgh, recently +added to the recreation grounds of the citizens.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIV</b>. Blackford Hill has now been acquired by the +City of Edinburgh as a public resort. The view from it, not only +of the city but of the landscape generally, is striking and +memorable.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 511-15</b>. Cp. Wordsworth’s ‘The Fountain-a +Conversation’:-<br> +<br> + ‘No check, no stay, this Streamlet fears:<br> + How merrily it goes!<br> + ‘Twill murmur on a thousand years,<br> + And flow as now it flows.<br> +<br> + And here on this delightful day,<br> + I cannot choose but think<br> + How oft, a vigorous man, I lay<br> + Beside this fountain’s brink.<br> +<br> + My eyes are dim with childish tears,<br> + My heart is idly stirred,<br> + For the same sound is in my ears<br> + Which in those days I heard.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXV. line 521</b>. ‘The Borough, or Common Moor +of Edinburgh, was of very great extent, reaching from the +southern walls of the city to the bottom of Braid Hills. It was +anciently a forest; and, in that state, was so great a nuisance, +that the inhabitants of Edinburgh had permission granted to them +of building wooden galleries, projecting over the street, in +order to encourage them to consume the timber; which they seem to +have done very effectually. When James IV mustered the array of +the kingdom there, in 1513, the Borough-moor was, according to +Hawthornden, “a field spacious, and delightful by the shade +of many stately and aged oaks.” Upon that, and similar +occasions, the royal standard is traditionally said to have been +displayed from the Hare Stane, a high stone, now built into the +wall, on the left hand of the highway leading towards Braid, not +far from the head of Bruntsfield Links. The Hare Stane probably +derives its name from the British word <i>Har</i>, signifying an +army.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVI. lines 535-538</b>. The proper names in these +lines are Hebrides; East Lothian; Redswire, part of Carter Fell +near Jedburgh; and co. of Ross.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVII. line 557</b>. ‘Seven culverins so called, +cast by one Borthwick.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVIII. line 566</b>. ‘Each ensign intimated a +different rank.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 567</b>. As illustrating an early mode of English +encampment, Scott quotes from Patten’s description of what +he saw after Pinkie, 1547:-<br> +<br> +‘As they had no pavilions, or round houses, of any +commendable compass, so wear there few other tentes with posts, +as the used manner of making is; and of these few also, none of +above twenty foot length, but most far under; for the most part +all very sumptuously beset, (after their fashion,) for the love +of France, with fleur-de-lys, some of blue buckeram, some of +black, and some of some other colours. These white ridges, as I +call them, that, as we stood on Fauxsyde Bray, did make so great +muster toward us, which I did take then to be a number of tentes, +when we came, we found it a linen drapery, of the coarser cambryk +in dede, for it was all of canvas sheets, and wear the tenticles, +or rather cabyns and couches of their soldiers; the which (much +after the common building of their country beside) had they +framed of four sticks, about an ell long a piece, whereof two +fastened together at one end aloft, and the two endes beneath +stuck in the ground, an ell asunder, standing in fashion like the +bowes of a sowes yoke; over two such bowes (one, as it were, at +their head, the other at their feet), they stretched a sheet down +on both sides, whereby their cabin became roofed like a ridge, +but skant shut at both ends, and not very close beneath on the +sides, unless their sticks were the shorter, or their wives the +more liberal to lend them larger napery; howbeit, when they had +lined them, and stuff’d them so thick with straw, with the +weather as it was not very cold, when they wear ones couched, +they were as warm as they had been wrapt in horses +dung.’-PATTEN’S <i>Account of Somerset’s +Expedition</i>.<br> +<br> +<b>line 578</b>. ‘The well-known arms of Scotland. If you +will believe Boethius and Buchanan, the double tressure round the +shield (mentioned above, vii. 141), <i>counter fleur-de-lysed, or +lingued and armed azure</i>, was first assumed by Achaias, King +of Scotland, contemporary of Charlemagne, and founder of the +celebrated League with France but later antiquaries make poor +Eochy, or Achy, little better than a sort of King of Brentford, +whom old Grig (who has also swelled into Gregorius Magnus) +associated with himself in the important duty of governing some +part of the north-eastern coast of Scotland.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIX. lines 595-9</b>. Cp. the ‘rash, fruitless +war,’ &c., of Thomson’s ‘Edwin and +Eleonora,’ i. 1, and Cowper’s ‘Task,’ v. +187:-<br> +<br> + ‘War’s a game which, were their subjects +wise,<br> + Kings would not play at.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXX</b>. This description of Edinburgh is one of the +passages mentioned by Mr. Ruskin in ‘Modern Painters’ +as illustrative of Scott’s quick and certain perception of +the relations of form and colour. ‘Observe,’ he says, +‘the only hints at form given throughout are in the +somewhat vague words “ridgy,” “ massy,” +“close,” and “high,” the whole being +still more obscured by modern mystery, in its most tangible form +of smoke. But the <i>colours</i> are all definite; note the +rainbow band of them-gloomy or dusky red, sable (pure black), +amethyst (pure purple), green and gold-a noble chord throughout; +and then, moved doubtless less by the smoky than the amethystine +part of the group,<br> +<br> + “Fitz-Eustace’ heart felt closely pent,” +&c.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 632</b>. In the demi-volte (one of seven artificial +equestrian movements) the horse rises on his hind feet and makes +a half-turn. Cp. below, v. 33.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXI. line 646</b>. 6 o’clock a.m., the first +canonical hour of prayer.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 650-1</b>. St. Catherine of Siena, a famous female +Spanish saint, and St. Roque of France, patron of those sick of +the plague, who died at Montpelier about 1327.<br> +<br> +<b>line 655</b>. Falkland, in the west of Fife, at base of Lomond +Hills, a favourite residence of the Stuart kings, and well +situated for hunting purposes. The ancient stately palace is now +the property of the Marquis of Bute.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXII. line 679. stowre</b>, noise and confusion of +battle. Cp. ‘Faery Queene,’ I. ii. 7, ‘woeful +stowre.’<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH</b>.<br> +<br> +‘GEORGE ELLIS, to whom this Introduction is addressed, is +“the well-known coadjutor of Mr. Canning and Mr. Frere in +the “Anti-Jacobin,” and editor of “Specimens of +Ancient English Romances,” &c. He died 10th April, +1815, aged 70 years; being succeeded in his estates by his +brother, Charles Ellis, Esq., created in 1827 Lord +Seaford.’-LOCKHART. See ‘Life of Scott’ and +‘Dictionary of National Biography.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 36</b>. See Introd. to Canto II.<br> +<br> +<b>line 37</b>. ‘The Old Town of Edinburgh was secured on +the north side by a lake, now drained, and on the south by a +wall, which there was some attempt to make defensible even so +late as 1745. The gates, and the greater part of the wall, have +been pulled down, in the course of the late extensive and +beautiful enlargement of the city. My ingenious and valued +friend, Mr. Thomas Campbell, proposed to celebrate Edinburgh +under the epithet here borrowed. But the “Queen of the +North” has not been so fortunate as to receive from so +eminent a pen the proposed distinction.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 57</b>. ‘Since writing this line, I find I have +inadvertently borrowed it almost verbatim, though with somewhat a +different meaning, from a chorus in +“Caractacus”:-<br> +<br> + “Britain heard the descant bold,<br> + She flung her white arms o’er the sea,<br> + Proud in her leafy bosom to enfold<br> + The freight of harmony.”‘SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 58. For</b> = instead of.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 60-1. gleam’st</b>, with trans. force, is an +Elizabethanism. Cp. Shakespeare’s Lucrece, line 1378:-<br> +<br> + ‘Dying eyes gleamed forth their ashy +lights.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 67</b>. See ‘Faerie Queene,’ III. iv.<br> +<br> +<b>line 78</b>. “For every one her liked, and every one her +loved.” Spenser, as above.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 106</b>. A <b>knosp</b> is an architectural ornament in +form of a bud.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 111-12</b>. See Genesis xviii.<br> +<br> +<b>line 118</b>. ‘Henry VI, with his Queen, his heir, and +the chiefs of his family, fled to Scotland after the battle of +Towton. In this note a doubt was formerly expressed whether Henry +VI came to Edinburgh, though his Queen certainly did; Mr. +Pinkerton inclining to believe that he remained at Kirkcudbright. +But my noble friend, Lord Napier, has pointed out to me a grant +by Henry, of an annuity of forty marks to his Lordship’s +ancestor, John Napier, subscribed by the King himself, <i>at +Edinburgh</i>, the 28th day of August, in the thirtyninth year of +his reign, which corresponds to the year of God, 1461. This +grant, Douglas, with his usual neglect of accuracy, dates in +1368. But this error being corrected from the copy of +Macfarlane’s MSS., p. 119, to, removes all scepticism on +the subject of Henry VI being really at Edinburgh. John Napier +was son and heir of Sir Alexander Napier, and about this time was +Provost of Edinburgh. The hospitable reception of the distressed +monarch and his family, called forth on Scotland the encomium of +Molinet, a contemporary poet. The English people, he says,-<br> +<br> + “Ung nouveau roy creerent,<br> + Par despiteux vouloir,<br> + Le vieil en debouterent,<br> + Et son legitime hoir,<br> + Qui fuytyf alia prendre<br> + D’Ecosse le garand,<br> + De tous siecles le mendre,<br> + Et le plus tollerant.”<br> + <i>Recollection des +Avantures’</i>-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 120</b>. ‘In January, 1796, the exiled Count +d’Artois, afterwards Charles X of France, took up his +residence in Holyrood, where he remained until August, 1799. When +again driven from his country, by the revolution of July, 1830, +the same unfortunate Prince, with all the immediate members of +his family, sought refuge once more in the ancient palace of the +Stuarts, and remained there until 18th September, +1833.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 140</b>. ‘Mr. Ellis, in his valuable Introduction +to the “Specimens of Romance,” has proved, by the +concurring testimony of La Ravaillere, Tressan, but especially +the Abbe de la Rue, that the courts of our Anglo-Norman Kings, +rather than those of the French monarch, produced the birth of +Romance literature. Marie, soon after mentioned, compiled from +Armorican originals, and translated into Norman-French, or +Romance language, the twelve curious Lays of which Mr. Ellis has +given us a <i>precis</i> in the Appendix to his Introduction. The +story of Blondel, the famous and faithful minstrel of Richard I, +needs no commentary.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 141. for that</b> = ‘because,’ a common +Elizabethan connective.<br> +<br> +<b>line 165</b>. ‘“Come then, my friend, my genius, +come along,<br> + Oh master of the poet and the song!”<br> + Pope to +Bolingbroke.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +Cp. also the famous ‘guide, philosopher, and friend,’ +in ‘Essay on Man,’ IV. 390.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 166-175</b>. For a curious and characteristic ballad by +Leyden on Ellis, see ‘Life of Scott’ i. 368; and for +references to his state of ealth see ‘Life,’ ii, 17, +in one of Scott’s letters.<br> +<br> +<b>line 181</b>. ‘At Sunning-hill, Mr. Ellis’s seat, +near Windsor, part of the first two cantos of Marmion were +written.’-LOCKHART. Ascot Heath is about six miles off.<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO FIFTH</b>.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza I. line 18</b>. ‘This is no poetical +exaggeration. In some of the counties of England, distinguished +for archery, shafts of this extraordinary length were actually +used. Thus, at the battle of Blackheath, between the troops of +Henry VII and the Cornish insurgents, in 1496, the bridge of +Dartford was defended by a picked band of archers from the rebel +army, “whose arrows,” says Holinshed, “were in +length a full cloth yard.” The Scottish, according to +Ascham, had a proverb, that every English archer carried under +his belt twenty-four Scots, in allusion to his bundle of unerring +shafts.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza II. line 32. croupe</b> = (1) the buttocks of the +horse, as in Chaucer’s ‘Fryars Tale,’ line +7141, ‘thakketh his horse upon the croupe’; (2) the +place behind the saddle, as here and in ‘Young +Lochinvar,’ below, 351.<br> +<br> +<b>line 33</b>. ‘The most useful <i>air</i>, as the +Frenchmen term it, <i>is territerr</i>, the <i>courbettes</i>, +<i>cabrioles</i>, or <i>un pas et un sault</i>, being fitter for +horses of parade and triumph than for soldiers: yet I cannot deny +but a <i>demivolte</i> with <i>courbettes</i>, so that they be +not too high, may be useful in a fight or <i>meslee</i>; for, as +Labroue hath it, in his Book of Horsemanship, Monsieur de +Montmorency having a horse that was excellent in performing the +<i>demivolte</i>, did, with his sword, strike down two +adversaries from their horses in a tourney, where divers of the +prime gallants of France did meet; for, taking his time, when the +horse was in the height of his <i>courbette</i>, and discharging +a blow then, his sword fell with such weight and force upon the +two cavaliers, one after another, that he struck them from their +horses to the ground.’-<i>Lord Herbert of Cherbury’s +Life</i>, p. 48.-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 35</b>. ‘The Scottish burgesses were, like yeomen, +appointed to be armed with bows and sheaves, sword, buckler, +knife, spear, or a good axe instead of a bow, if worth L100: +their armour to be of white or bright harness. They wore <i>white +hats</i>, i.e. bright steel caps, without crest or visor. By an +act of James IV their <i>weapon-schawings</i> are appointed to be +held four times a year, under the aldermen or +bailiffs.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 40-48</b>. Corslet, a light cuirass protecting the front +of the body; <b>brigantine</b>, a jacket quilted with iron (also +spelt ‘brigandine’); <b>gorget</b>, a metal covering +for the throat; <b>mace</b>, a heavy club, plain or spiked, +designed to bruise armour.<br> +<br> +‘Bows and quivers were in vain recommended to the peasantry +of Scotland, by repeated statutes; spears and axes seem +universally to have been used instead of them. The defensive +armour was the plate-jack, hauberk, or brigantine; and their +missile weapons crossbows and culverins. All wore swords of +excellent temper, according to Patten; and a voluminous +handkerchief round their neck, “not for cold, but for +cutting.” The mace also was much used in the Scottish army! +The old poem on the battle of Flodden mentions a band-<br> +<br> + “Who manfully did meet their foes,<br> + With leaden mauls, and lances long.”<br> +<br> +‘When the feudal array of the kingdom was called forth, +each man was obliged to appear with forty days’ provision. +When this was expended, which took place before the battle of +Flodden, the army melted away of course. Almost all the Scottish +forces, except a few knights, men-at-arms, and the +Border-prickers, who formed excellent light-cavalry, acted upon +foot.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza III. line 48. swarthy</b>, because of the dark leather +of which it was constructed.<br> +<br> +<b>line 54</b>. See above, Introd. to II. line 48.<br> +<br> +<b>line 56. Cheer</b>, countenance, as below, line 244. Cp. +Chaucer, ‘Knightes Tale,’ line 55:-<br> +<br> + ‘The eldeste lady of hem alle spak<br> + When sche hadde swowned with a dedly +<i>chere</i>.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IV. line 73. slogan</b>, the war-cry. Cp. +Aytoun’s ‘Burial March of Dundee’:-<br> +<br> + ‘Sound the fife and cry the slogan.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 96</b>. The Euse and the Liddell flow into the Esk. For +some miles the Liddell is the boundary between England and +Scotland.<br> +<br> +<b>line 100. Brown Maudlin</b>, dark or bronzed Magdalene. +<b>pied</b>, variegated, as in Shakespeare’s ‘daisies +pied.’ <b>kirtle</b> = short skirt, and so applied to a +gown or a petticoat.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza V</b>. For unrivalled illustration of what Celtic +chiefs and clansmen were, see ‘Waverley’ and +‘Rob Roy.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 130-5</b> Cp. opening of Chapman’s Homer’s +Iliad III.:-<br> +<br> + ‘The Trojans would have frayed<br> + The Greeks with noises, crying out, in coming rudely on<br> + At all parts, like the cranes that fill with harsh +confusion<br> + Of brutish clanges all the air. ‘<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VI. lines 143-157</b>. Cp. Dryden’s +‘Palamon and Arcite,’ iii. 1719-1739:-<br> +<br> + ‘The neighing of the generous horse was heard,<br> + For battle by the busy groom prepar’d:<br> + Rustling of harness, rattling of the shield,<br> + Clattering of armour furbish’d for the field,’ +&c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 157. following</b> = feudal retainers.-SCOTT. To the +poet’s explanation Lockhart appends the remark that since +Scott thought his note necessary the word has been +‘completely adopted into English, and especially into +Parliamentary parlance.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 166</b>. Scott says:-‘In all transactions of great +or petty importance, and among whomsoever taking place, it would +seem that a present of wine was a uniform and indispensable +preliminary. It was not to Sir John Falstaff alone that such an +introductory preface was necessary, however well judged and +acceptable on the part of Mr. Brook; for Sir Ralph Sadler, while +on an embassy to Scotland in 1539-40, mentions, with complacency, +‘the same night came Rothesay (the herald so called) to me +again, and brought me wine from the King both white and +red.’-<i>Clifford’s Edition</i>, p. 39.<br> +<br> +<b>line 168</b>. For weeds see above, I. Introd. 256.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VII. line 172</b>. For <b>wassell</b> see above, I. xv. +231; and cp. ‘merry wassail’ in ‘Rokeby,’ +III. xv.<br> +<br> +<b>line 190</b>. Cp. above, IV. Introd. 3.<br> +<br> +<b>line 200</b>. An Elizabethan omission of relative.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VIII</b>. The admirable characterisation, by which in +this and the two following stanzas the King, the Queen, and Lady +Heron are individually delineated and vividly contrasted, +deserves special attention. There is every reason to believe that +the delineations, besides being vivid and impressive, have the +additional merit of historical accuracy.<br> +<br> +<b>line 213. piled</b> = covered with a pile or nap. The +Encyclopaedic Dict., s. v., quotes: ‘With that money I +would make thee several cloaks and line them with black crimson, +and tawny, three filed veluet.’-Barry; Ram Alley, III. +i.<br> +<br> +<b>line 221. A baldric</b> (remotely from Lat. balteus, a girdle) +was an ornamental belt passing over one shoulder and round the +other side, and having the sword suspended from it. Cp. +Pope’s Iliad, III. 415:-<br> +<br> + ‘A radiant <i>baldric</i>, o’er his shoulder +tied,<br> + Sustained the sword that glittered at his side.’<br> +<br> +See also the ‘wolf-skin baldric’ in ‘Lay of the +Last Minstrel,’ III. xvi.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IX. line 249</b>. ‘Few readers need to be +reminded of this belt, to the weight of which James added certain +ounces every year that he lived. Pitscottie founds his belief +that James was not slain in the battle of Flodden, because the +English never had this token of the iron-belt to show to any +Scottishman. The person and character of James are delineated +according to our best historians. His romantic disposition, which +led him highly to relish gaiety, approaching to license, was, at +the same time, tinged with enthusiastic devotion. These +propensities sometimes formed a strange contrast. He was wont, +during his fits of devotion, to assume the dress, and conform to +the rules, of the order of Franciscans; and when he had thus done +penance for some time in Stirling, to plunge again into the tide +of pleasure. Probably, too, with no unusual inconsistency, he +sometimes laughed at the superstitions observances to which he at +other times subjected himself. There is a very singular poem by +Dunbar, seemingly addressed to James IV, on one of these +occasions of monastic seclusion. It is a most daring and profane +parody on the services of the Church of Rome, entitled:-<br> +<br> + “<i>Dunbar’s Dirige to the King,<br> + Byding ewer lang in Striviling</i>.<br> + We that are here, in heaven’s glory,<br> + To you that are in Purgatory,<br> + Commend us on our hearty wise;<br> + I mean we folks in Paradise,<br> + In Edinburgh, with all merriness,<br> + To you in Stirling with distress,<br> + Where neither pleasure nor delight is,<br> + For pity this epistle wrytis,” &c.<br> +<br> +See the whole in Sibbald’s Collection, vol. i. p. +234.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +Since Scott’s time Dunbar’s poems have been edited, +with perfect scholarship and skill, by David Laing (2 vols. post +8vo. 1824), and by John Small (in l885) for the Scottish Text +Society. See Dict. of Nat. Biog.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 254-9</b>. This perfect description may be compared, for +accuracy of observation and dexterous presentment, with the steed +in ‘Venus and Adonis,’ the paragon of horses in +English verse. Both writers give ample evidence of direct +personal knowledge.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza X. line 261</b>. ‘It has been already noticed +[see note to stanza xiii. of Canto I.] that King James’s +acquaintance with Lady Heron of Ford did not commence until he +marched into England. Our historians impute to the King’s +infatuated passion the delays which led to the fatal defeat of +Flodden. The author of “The Genealogy of the Heron +Family” endeavours, with laudable anxiety, to clear the +Lady Ford from this scandal; that she came and went, however, +between the armies of James and Surrey, is certain. See +PINKERTON’S <i>History</i>, and the authorities he refers +to, vol. ii. p. 99. Heron of Ford had been, in 1511, in some sort +accessory to the slaughter of Sir Robert Kerr of Cessford, Warden +of the Middle Marches. It was committed by his brother the +bastard, Lilburn, and Starked, three Borderers. Lilburn and Heron +of Ford were delivered up by Henry to James, and were imprisoned +in the fortress of Fastcastle, where the former died. Part of the +pretence of Lady Ford’s negotiations with James was the +liberty of her husband.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 271. love</b> = beloved. Cp. Burns’s ‘O my +love is like a red red rose.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 273</b>. ‘“Also the Queen of France wrote a +love-letter to the King of Scotland, calling him her love, +showing him that she had suffered much rebuke in France for the +defending of his honour. She believed surely that he would +recompense her again with some of his kingly support in her +necessity; that is to say, that he would raise her an army, and +come three foot of ground on English ground, for her sake. To +that effect she sent him a ring off her finger, with fourteen +thousand French crowns to pay bis expenses.” PITSCOTTIE, +p.110.-A turquois ring-probably this fatal gift-is, with +James’s sword and dagger, preserved in the College of +Heralds, London.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 287-8</b>. The change of movement introduced by this +couplet has the intended effect of arresting the attention and +lending pathos to the description and sentiment.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XI. line 302</b>. The <b>wimple</b> was a covering for +the neck, said to have been introduced in the reign of Edward I. +See Chaucer’s ‘Prologue,’ 151:-<br> +<br> + ‘Ful semely hire wympel i-pynched was.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 307</b>. Cp. 2 Henry IV, iii. 2. 9, ‘By yea and +nay, sir.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 308</b>. Cp. refrain of song, ‘‘Twas within a +mile o’ Edinburgh Town,’ in Johnson’s Museum +:-<br> +<br> + ‘The lassie blush’d, and frowning cried, +“No, no, it will not do;<br> + I cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot, mannot buckle +too.”‘<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XII</b>. The skilful application of the anapaest for +the production of the brilliant gallop of ‘Lochinvar’ +has been equalled only by Scott himself in his ‘Bonnets +o’ Bonnie Dundee.’ Cp. Lord Tennyson’s +‘Northern Farmer’ (specially New Style), and Mr. +Browning’s ‘How they brought the Good News from Ghent +to Aix.’ ‘The ballad of Lochinvar,’ says Scott, +‘is in a very slight degree founded on a ballad called +“ Katharine Janfarie,” which may be found in the +“Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border,” vol. ii. Mr. +Charles Gibbon’s ‘Laird o’ Lamington’ is +based on the same legend.<br> +<br> +<b>line 332</b>. ‘See the novel of +“Redgauntlet” for a detailed picture of some of the +extraordinary phenomena of the spring-tides in the Solway +Frith.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 344. galliard</b> (Sp. <i>gallarda</i>, Fr. +<i>gaillarda</i>), a lively dance. Cp. Henry V, i. 2, 252, +‘a nimble galliard,’ and note on expression in +Clarendon Press ed.<br> +<br> +<b>line 353. scaur</b>, cliff or river bank. Cp. Blackie’s +‘Ascent of Cruachan’ in ‘Lays of the Highlands +and Islands,’ p. 98:-<br> +<br> + ‘Scale the <i>scaur</i> that gleams so red.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIII. line 376</b>. Cp. Dryden’s +‘Aurengzebe’:<br> +<br> + ‘Love and a crown no rivalship can bear.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 382</b>. Sir R. Kerr. See above, line 261.<br> +<br> +<b>line 383</b>. Andrew Barton, High Admiral of Scotland, was one +of a family of seamen, to whom James IV granted letters of +reprisal against Portuguese traders for the violent death of +their father. Both the King and the Bartons profited much by +their successes. At length the Earl of Surrey, accusing Andrew +Barton of attacking English as well as Portuguese vessels, sent +two powerful men-of-war against him, and a sharp battle, fought +in the Downs, resulted in Barton’s death and the capture of +his vessels. See Chambers’s ‘Eminent Scotsmen,’ +vol. v.<br> +<br> +<b>line 386</b>. James sent his herald to Henry before Terouenne, +calling upon him to desist from hostilities against +Scotland’s ally, the king of France, and sternly reminding +him of the various insults to which Henry’s supercilious +policy had subjected him. Flodden had been fought before the +messenger returned with his answer. Barclay a contemporary poet, +had written about seven years earlier, in his ‘Ship of +Fooles’:-<br> +<br> + ‘If the Englishe Lion his wisedome and riches<br> + Conjoyne with true love, peace, and fidelitie<br> + With the Scottishe Unicornes might and hardines,<br> + There is no doubt but all whole Christentie<br> + Shall live in peace, wealth, and tranquilitie.’<br> +<br> +But such a desirable consummation was to wait yet a while.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIV. line 398</b>. ‘Archibald Douglas, Earl of +Angus,’ says Scott, ‘a man remarkable for strength of +body and mind, acquired the popular name of <i>Bell-the-Cat</i>, +upon the following remarkable occasion:-James the Third, of whom +Pitscottie complains that he delighted more in music, and +“policies of building,” than in hunting, hawking, and +other noble exercises, was so ill advised as to make favourites +of his architects and musicians, whom the same historian +irreverently terms masons and fiddlers. His nobility, who did not +sympathise in the King’s respect for the fine arts, were +extremely incensed at the honours conferred on those persons, +particularly on Cochrane, a mason, who had been created Earl of +Mar; and, seizing the opportunity, when, in 1482, the King had +convoked the whole array of the country to march against the +English, they held a midnight council in the church of Lauder, +for the purpose of forcibly removing these minions from the +King’s person. When all had agreed on the propriety of this +measure, Lord Gray told the assembly the apologue of the Mice, +who had formed a resolution, that it would be highly advantageous +to their community to tie a bell round the cat’s neck, that +they might hear her approach at a distance; but which public +measure unfortunately miscarried, from no mouse being willing to +undertake the task of fastening the bell. “I understand the +moral,” said Angus, “and, that what we propose may +not lack execution, I will <i>bell the cat</i>.”‘<br> +<br> +The rest of the strange scene is thus told by Pitscottie:-<br> +<br> +‘By this was advised and spoken by thir lords foresaid, +Cochran, the Earl of Mar, came from the King to the council, +(which council was holden in the kirk of Lauder for the time,) +who was well accompanied with a band of men of war; to the number +of three hundred light axes, all clad in white livery, and black +bends thereon, that they might be known for Cochran the Earl of +Mar’s men. Himself was clad in a riding-pie of black +velvet, with a great chain of gold about his neck, to the value +of five hundred crowns, and four blowing horns, with both the +ends of gold and silk, set with a precious stone, called a +berryl, hanging in the midst. This Cochran had his heumont born +before him, overgilt with gold, and so were all the rest of his +horns, and all his pallions were of fine canvas of silk, and the +cords thereof fine twined silk, and the chains upon his pallions +were double overgilt with gold.<br> +<br> +‘This Cochran was so proud in his conceit, that he counted +no lords to be marrows to him, therefore he rushed rudely at the +kirk-door. The council inquired who it was that perturbed them at +that time. Sir Robert Douglas, Laird of Lochleven, was keeper of +the kirk-door at that time, who inquired who that was that +knocked so rudely; and Cochran answered, “This is I, the +Earl of Mar.” The which news pleased well the lords, +because they were ready boun to cause take him, as is before +rehearsed. Then the Earl of Angus past hastily to the door, and +with him Sir Robert Douglas of Lochleven, there to receive in the +Earl of Mar, and go many of his complices who were there, as they +thought good. And the Earl of Angus met with the Earl of Mar, as +he came in at the door, and pulled the golden chain from his +craig, and said to him, a tow1 would set him better. Sir Robert +Douglas syne pulled the blowing horn from him in like manner, and +said, “He had been the hunter of mischief over long.” +This Cochran asked, “My lords, is it mows2, or +earnest?” They answered, and said, “It is good +earnest, and so thou shalt find; for thou and thy complices have +abused our prince this long time; of whom thou shalt hare no more +credence, but shalt have thy reward according to thy good +service, as thou hast deserved in times bypast; right so the rest +of thy followers.”<br> +-------------------------------------<br> + 1rope. 2jest.<br> +-------------------------------------<br> +‘Notwithstanding, the lords held them quiet till they +caused certain armed men to pass into the King’s pallion, +and two or three wise men to pass with them, and give the King +fair pleasant words, till they laid hands on all the King’s +servants and took them and hanged them before his eyes over the +bridge of Lawder. Incontinent they brought forth Cochran, and his +hands bound with a tow, who desired them to take one of his own +pallion tows and bind his hands, for he thought shame to have his +hands bound with such tow of hemp, like a thief. The lords +answered, he was a traitor, he deserved no better; and, for +despight, they took a hair tether3, and hanged him over the +bridge of Lawder, above the rest of his +complices.’-PITSCOTTIE, p. 78, folio edit.<br> +-------------------------------------<br> + 3halter.<br> +-------------------------------------<br> +<b>line 400</b>. Hermitage Castle is on Hermitage water, which +falls into the Liddell. The ruins still exist.<br> +<br> +<b>line 402</b>. Bothwell Castle is on the right bank of the +Clyde, a few miles above Glasgow. While staying there in 1799 +Scott began a ballad entitled ‘Bothwell Castle,’ +which remains a fragment. Lockhart gave it in the +‘Life,’ i. 305, ed. 1837. There, as here, he makes +reference to the touching legendary ballad, ‘Bothwell bank +thou bloomest fair,’ which a traveller before 1605 heard a +woman singing in Palestine.<br> +<br> +line 406. Reference to Cicero’s <i>cedant arma togae</i>, a +relic of an attempt at verse.<br> +<br> +<b>line 414</b>. ‘Angus was an old man when the war against +England was resolved upon. He earnestly spoke against that +measure from its commencement; and, on the eve of the battle of +Flodden, remonstrated so freely upon the impolicy of fighting, +that the King said to him, with scorn and indignation, “if +he was afraid, he might go home.” The Earl burst into tears +at this insupportable insult, and retired accordingly, leaving +his sons, George, Master of Angus, and Sir William of Glenbervie, +to command his followers. They were both slain in the battle, +with two hundred gentlemen of the name of Douglas. The aged Earl, +broken-hearted at the calamities of his house and his country, +retired into a religious house, where he died about a year after +the field of Flodden.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XV. lines 415-20</b>. Cp. description of Sir H. +Osbaldistone, ‘Rob Roy,’ chap. vi.<br> +<br> +<b>line 429</b>. ‘The ruins of Tantallon Castle occupy a +high rock projecting into the German Ocean, about two miles east +of North Berwick. The building is not seen till a close approach, +as there is rising ground betwixt it and the land. The circuit is +of large extent, fenced upon three sides by the precipice which +overhangs the sea, and on the fourth by a double ditch and very +strong outworks. Tantallon was a principal castle of the Douglas +family, and when the Earl of Angus was banished, in 1527, it +continued to hold out against James V. The King went in person +against it, and for its reduction, borrowed from the Castle of +Dunbar, then belonging to the Duke of Albany, two great cannons, +whose names, as Pitscottie informs us with laudable minuteness, +were “Thrawn mouth’d Meg and her Marrow”; also, +“two great botcards, and two moyan, two double falcons, and +four quarter falcons”; for the safe guiding and re-delivery +of which, three lords were laid in pawn at Dunbar. Yet, +notwithstanding all this apparatus, James was forced to raise the +siege, and only afterwards obtained possession of Tantallon by +treaty with the governor, Simon Panango, When the Earl of Angus +returned from banishment, upon the death of James, he again +obtained possession of Tantallon, and it actually afforded refuge +to an English ambassador, under circumstances similar to those +described in the text. This was no other than the celebrated Sir +Ralph Sadler, who resided there for some time under Angus’s +protection, after the failure of his negotiation for matching the +infant Mary with Edward VI. He says, that though this place was +poorly furnished, it was of such strength as might warrant him +against the malice of his enemies, and that he now thought +himself out of danger. (His State papers were published in 1810, +with certain notes by Scott.)<br> +<br> +‘There is a military tradition, that the old Scottish March +was meant to express the words,<br> +<br> + “Ding down Tantallon,<br> + Mak a brig to the Bass.”<br> +<br> +‘Tantallon was at length “dung down” and ruined +by the Covenanters; its lord, the Marquis of Douglas, being a +favourer of the royal cause. The castle and barony were sold in +the beginning of the eighteenth century to President Dalrymple of +North Berwick, by the then Marquis of Douglas.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +In 1888, under the direction of Mr. Walter Dalrymple, son of the +proprietor, certain closed staircases in the ruins were opened, +and various excavations were made, with the purpose of +discovering as fully as possible what the original character of +the structure had been. These operations have added greatly to +the interest of the ruin, which both by position and aspect is +one of the most imposing in the country.<br> +<br> +<b>line 432</b>. ‘A very ancient sword, in possession of +Lord Douglas, bears, among a great deal of flourishing, two hands +pointing to a heart which is placed betwixt them, and the date +1329, being the year in which Bruce charged the Good Lord Douglas +to carry his heart to the Holy Land. The following lines (the +first couplet of which is quoted by Godscroft, as a popular +saying in his time) are inscribed around the emblem:-<br> +<br> + “So mony guid as of ye Dovglas beinge,<br> + Of ane surname was ne’er in Scotland seine.<br> +<br> + I will ye charge, efter yat I depart,<br> + To holy grawe, and thair bury my hart;<br> + Let it remane ever BOTHE TYME AND HOWR,<br> + To ye last day I sie my Saviour.<br> +<br> + I do protest in tyme of al my ringe,<br> + Ye lyk subject had never ony keing.”<br> +<br> +‘This curious and valuable relic was nearly lost during the +Civil War of 1745-6, being carried away from Douglas Castle by +some of those in arms for Prince Charles. But great interest +having been made by the Duke of Douglas among the chief partisans +of the Stuart, it was at length restored. It resembles a Highland +claymore, of the usual size, is of an excellent temper, and +admirably poised.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVI. line 461</b>. Scott quotes:--<br> +<br> + ‘O Dowglas! Dowglas<br> + Tender and trew.’-<i>The Houlate</i>.<br> +<br> +<b>line 470</b>. There are two famous sparrows in literature, the +one Lesbia’s sparrow, tenderly lamented by Catullus, and +the other Jane Scrope’s sparrow, memorialised by Skelton in +the ‘ Boke of Phyllyp Sparowe.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 475</b>. The tears of such as Douglas are of the kind +mentioned in Cowley’s ‘Prophet,’ line 20:-<br> +<br> + ‘Words that weep, and tears that speak.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVII. line 501</b>. ‘The ancient cry to make room +for a dance or pageant.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +Cp. Romeo and Juliet, i. 5. 28: ‘A hall! a hall! give +room,’ &c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 505</b>. The tune is significant of a Scottish invasion +of England. See Scott’s appropriate song to the +‘ancient air,’ ‘Monastery,’ xxv. +Reference is made in I Henry II, ii. 4. 368, to the head-dress of +the Scottish soldiers, when Falstaff informs Prince Hal that +Douglas is in England, ‘and a thousand <i>blue-caps</i> +more.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIX. line 545</b>. Many of the houses in Old Edinburgh +are built to a great height, so that the common stairs leading up +among a group of them have sometimes been called +‘perpendicular streets.’ Pitch, meaning +‘height,’ is taken from hawking, the height to which +a bird rose depending largely on the pitch given it.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XX. line 558</b>. St. Giles’s massive steeple is +one of the features of Edinburgh. The ancient church, recently +renovated by the munificence of the late William Chambers, is now +one of the most imposing Presbyterian places of worship in +Scotland.<br> +<br> +<b>line 569</b>. For <b>bowne</b> see above, IV. 487.<br> +<br> +<b>line 571</b>. A certain impressiveness is given by the sudden +introduction of this pentameter.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXI</b>. Jeffrey, in reviewing’ Marmion, +‘fixed on this narrative of the Abbess as a passage marked +by ‘flatness and tediousness,’ and could see in it +‘no sort of beauty nor elegance of diction.’ The +answer to such criticism is that the narrative is direct and +practical, and admirably suited to its purpose.<br> +<br> +<b>line 585. Despiteously</b>, despitefully. +‘Despiteous’ is used in ‘Lay of the Last +Minstrel,’ V. xix. Cp. Chaucer’s ‘Man of +Lawe,’ 605 (Clarendon Press ed.):-<br> +<br> + ‘And sey his wyf despitously yslayn.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 587</b>. ‘A German general, who commanded the +auxiliaries sent by the Duchess of Burgundy with Lambert Simnel. +He was defeated and killed at Stokefield. The name of this German +general is preserved by that of the field of battle, which is +called, after him, Swart-moor.-There were songs about him long +current in England. See Dissertation prefixed to RITSON’S +<i>Ancient Songs</i>, 1792, p. lxi.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 588</b>. Lambert Simnel, the Pretender, made a scullion +after his overthrow by Henry VII.<br> +<br> +<b>line 590</b>. Stokefield (Stoke, near Newark, county +Nottingham) was fought 16 June, 1487.<br> +<br> +<b>line 607</b>. ‘It was early necessary for those who felt +themselves obliged to believe in the divine judgment being +enunciated in the trial by duel, to find salvos for the strange +and obviously precarious chances of the combat. Various curious +evasive shifts, used by those who took up an unrighteous quarrel, +were supposed sufficient to convert it into a just one. Thus, in +the romance of “Amys and Amelion,” the one +brother-in-arms, fighting for the other, disguised in his armour, +swears that <i>he</i> did not commit the crime of which the +Steward, his antagonist, truly, though maliciously, accused him +whom he represented. Brantome tells a story of an Italian, who +entered the lists upon an unjust quarrel, but, to make his cause +good, fled from his enemy at the first onset. “Turn, +coward!” exclaimed his antagonist. “Thou +liest,” said the Italian, “coward am I none; and in +this quarrel will I fight to the death, but my first cause of +combat was unjust, and I abandon it.” “<i>Je vous +laisse a penser</i>,” adds Brantome, “<i>s’il +n’y a pas de l’abus la</i>.” Elsewhere he says, +very sensibly, upon the confidence which those who had a +righteous cause entertained of victory: <i>“Un autre abus y +avoit-il, que ceux qui avoient un juste subjet de querelle, et +qu’on les faisoit jurer avant entrer au camp, pensoient +estre aussitost vainqueurs, voire s’en assuroient-t-ils du +tout, mesmes que leurs confesseurs, parrains et confidants leurs +en respondoient tout-a-fait, comme si Dieu leur en eust donne une +patente; et ne regardant point a d’autres fautes passes, et +que Dieu en garde la punition a ce coup la pour plus grande, +despiteuse, et exemplaire.”-Discours sur le +Duels.’</i>-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXII. line 612. Recreant</b>, a coward, a disgraced +knight. See ‘Lady of the Lake,’ V. xvi:-<br> +<br> + ‘Let recreant yield who fears to die’;<br> +<br> +and cp. ‘caitiff recreant,’ Richard II, i. 2. 53.<br> +<br> +<b>line 633</b>. The Tame falls into the Trent above +Tamworth.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIII. line 662. Quaint</b>, neat, pretty, as in Much +Ado, iii. 4. 21: ‘A fine, quaint, graceful, and excellent +fashion.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIV. line 704. St. Withold</b>, St. Vitalis. Cp. King +Lear, iii. 4. III. Clarendon Press ed., and note. This saint was +invoked in nightmare.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXV. line 717. Malison</b>, curse.<br> +<br> +<b>line 717</b>. ‘The Cross of Edinburgh was an ancient and +curious structure. The lower part was an octagonal tower, sixteen +feet in diameter, and about fifteen feet high. At each angle +there was a pillar, and between them an arch, of the Grecian +shape. Above these was a projecting battlement, with a turret at +each corner, and medallions, of rude but curious workmanship, +between them. Above this rose the proper Cross, a column of one +stone, upwards of twenty feet high, surmounted with a unicorn. +This pillar is preserved in the grounds of the property of Drum, +near Edinburgh. The Magistrates of Edinburgh, in 1756, with +consent of the Lords of Session, (<i>proh pudor!</i>) destroyed +this curious monument, under a wanton pretext that it encumbered +the street; while, on the one hand, they left an ugly mass called +the Luckenbooths, and, on the other, an awkward, long, and low +guard-house, which were fifty times more encumbrance than the +venerable and inoffensive Cross.<br> +<br> +‘From the tower of the Cross, so long as it remained, the +heralds published the acts of Parliament; and its site, marked by +radii, diverging from a stone centre, in the High Street, is +still the place where proclamations are made.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +See Fergusson’s ‘Plainstanes,’ Poems, p. 48. +The Cross was restored by Mr. Gladstone in 1885, to commemorate +his connexion with Midlothian as its parliamentary +representative.<br> +<br> +<b>line 735</b>. ‘This supernatural citation is mentioned +by all our Scottish historians. It was, probably, like the +apparition at Linlithgow, an attempt, by those averse to the war, +to impose upon the superstitious temper of James IV. The +following account from Pitscottie is characteristically minute, +and furnishes, besides, some curious particulars of the equipment +of the army of James IV. I need only add to it, that Plotcock, or +Plutock, is no other than Pluto. The Christians of the middle +ages by no means disbelieved in the existence of the heathen +deities; they only considered them as devils, and Plotcock, so +far from implying any thing fabulous, was a synonyme of the grand +enemy of mankind.” <a name="citation2"></a><a href= +"#footnote2">{2}</a> “Yet all thir warnings, and uncouth +tidings, nor no good counsel, might stop the King, at this +present, from his vain purpose, and wicked enterprize, but hasted +him fast to Edinburgh, and there to make his provision and +famishing, in having forth of his army against the day appointed, +that they should meet in the Barrow-muir of Edinburgh: That is to +say, seven cannons that he had forth of the Castle of Edinburgh, +which were called the Seven Sisters, casten by Robert Borthwick, +the master-gunner, with other small artillery, bullet, powder, +and all manner of order, as the master-gunner could devise.<br> +<br> +‘“In this meantime, when they were taking forth their +artillery, and the King being in the Abbey for the time, there +was a cry heard at the Market-cross of Edinburgh at the hour of +midnight, proclaiming as it had been a summons, which was named +and called by the proclaimer thereof, the summons of Plotcock; +which desired all men to compear, both Earl, and Lord, and Baron, +and all honest gentlemen within the town, (every man specified by +his own name,) to compear, within the space of forty days, before +his master, where it should happen him to appoint, and be for the +time, under the pain of disobedience. But whether this summons +was proclaimed by vain persons, night-walkers, or drunken men, +for their pastime, or if it was a spirit, I cannot tell truly: +but it was shewn to me, that an indweller of the town, Mr. +Richard Lawson, being evil disposed, ganging in his gallery-stair +foreanent the Cross, hearing this voice proclaiming this summons, +thought marvel what it should be, cried on his servant to bring +him his purse; and when he had brought him it, he took out a +crown, and cast over the stair, saying, ‘I appeal from that +summons, judgment, and sentence thereof, and take me all whole in +the mercy of God, and Christ Jesus his son.’ Verily, the +author of this, that caused me write the manner of this summons, +was a landed gentleman, who was at that time twenty years of age, +and was in the town the time of the said summons; and thereafter, +when the field was stricken, he swore to me, there was no man +that escaped that was called in this summons, but that one man +alone which made his protestation, and appealed from the said +summons: but all the lave were perished in the field with the +king.”‘<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIX. line 838</b>. ‘The convent alluded to is a +foundation of Cistertian nuns, near North Berwick, of which there +are still some remains. It was founded by Duncan, Earl of Fife, +in 1216.’--SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 840</b>. Two rocky islands off North Berwick.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXX. line 899</b>. Nares says: ‘In the solemn +form of excommunication used in the Romish Church, the bell was +tolled, the book of offices for the purpose used, and three +candles extinguished, with certain ceremonies.’ Cp. +‘Lay of the Last Minstrel,’ VI. xxiii. 400, for the +observance at a burial service.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza. XXXI. line 914</b>. ‘This relates to the +catastrophe of a real Robert de Marmion, in the reign of King +Stephen, whom William of Newbury describes with some attributes +of my fictitious hero: “<i>Homo bellicosus, ferosia, et +astucia, fere nullo suo tempore impar</i>.” This Baron, +having expelled the monks from the church of Coventry, was not +long of experiencing the divine judgment, as the same monks, no +doubt, termed his disaster. Having waged a feudal war with the +Earl of Chester, Marmion’s horse fell, as he charged in the +van of his troop, against a body of the Earl’s followers: +the rider’s thigh being broken by the fall, his head was +cut off by a common foot-soldier, ere he could receive any +succour. The whole story is told by William of +Newbury.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 926</b>. The story of Judith and Holofernes is in the +Apocrypha.<br> +<br> +<b>line 928</b>. See Judges iv.<br> +<br> +<b>line 931. St. Antony’s fire</b> is erysipelas.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXII. line 947</b>. This line, omitted in early +editions, was supplied by Lockhart from the MS.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXIII. line 973</b>. Tantallon, owing to its position, +presents itself suddenly to those approaching it from the +south.<br> +<br> +<b>line 980</b>. Lockhart annotates thus:-<br> +<br> +‘During the regency (subsequent to the death of James V) +the Dowager Queen Regent, Mary of Guise, became desirous of +putting a French garrison into Tantallon, as she had into Dunbar +and Inchkeith, in order the better to bridle the lords and +barons, who inclined to the reformed faith, and to secure by +citadels the sea-coast of the Frith of Forth. For this purpose, +the Regent, to use the phrase of the time “dealed +with” the (then) Earl of Angus for his consent to the +proposed measure. He occupied himself, while she was speaking, in +feeding a falcon which sat upon his wrist, and only replied by +addressing the bird, but leaving the Queen to make the +application. “The devil is in this greedy gled-she will +never be fou.” But when the Queen, without appearing to +notice this hint, continued to press her obnoxious request, Angus +replied, in the true spirit of a feudal noble, “Yes, Madam, +the castle is yours; God forbid else. But by the might of God, +Madam!” such was his usual oath, “I must be your +Captain and Keeper for you, and I will keep it as well as any you +can place there.’“SIR WALTER SCOTT’S +<i>Provincial Antiquities</i>, vol. ii. p. 167.-<i>Prose +Works</i>, vol. vii. p. 436.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXIV. line 998</b>. Cp. AEneid, IV. 174:-<br> +<br> + ‘Fama, malum qua non aliud velocius ullum.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 1001</b>. Strongholds in Northumberland, near +Flodden.<br> +<br> +<b>line 1017</b>. Opposite Flodden, beyond the Till.<br> +<br> +<b>line 1032. ‘bated of</b>, diminished. Cp. Timon of +Athens, ii. 2. 208:-<br> +<br> + ‘ You do yourselves<br> + Much wrong; you <i>bate</i> too much of your own +merits.’<br> +<br> +<b>INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH</b>.<br> +<br> +Richard Heber (1773-1833) half-brother of Bishop Heber, was for +some time M. P. for Oxford University. His large inherited +fortune enabled him freely to indulge his love of books, and his, +English library of 105,000 volumes cost him L180,000. He had +thousands besides on the continent. As a cherished friend of +Scott’s he is frequently mentioned in the +‘Life.’ He introduced Leyden to Scott (Life, i. 333, +1837 ed.).<br> +<br> +‘Mertoun House, the seat of Hugh Scott, Esq., of Harden, is +beautifully situated on the Tweed, about two miles below Dryburgh +Abbey.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 7</b>. ‘The Iol of the heathen Danes (a word still +applied to Christmas in Scotland; was solemnized with great +festivity. The humour of the Danes at table displayed itself in +pelting each other with bones, and Torfaeus tells a long and +curious story, in the History of Hrolfe Kraka, of one Hottus, an +inmate of the Court of Denmark, who was so generally assailed +with these missiles, that he constructed, out of the bones with +which he was overwhelmed, a very respectable intrenchment, +against those who continued the raillery. The dances of the +northern warriors round the great fires of pine-trees, are +commemorated by Olaus Magnus, who says, they danced with such +fury, holding each other by the hands, that, if the grasp of any +failed, he was pitched into the fire with the velocity of a +sling. The sufferer, on such occasions, was instantly plucked +out, and obliged to quaff off a certain measure of ale, as a +penalty for “spoiling the king’s +fire.”‘SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 33</b>. Scott, after explaining that in Roman Catholic +countries mass is never said at night except on Christmas eve, +quotes as illustrative of early celebrations of the festival the +names and descriptions of the allegorical characters in +Jonson’s ‘Christmas his Masque. ‘The personages +are Father Christmas himself and his ten sons and daughters, led +in by Cupid. ‘Baby-Cake,’ the youngest child, is +misprinted ‘Baby-Cocke in Scott.<br> +<br> +<b>line 45. Post and pair</b>, a game at cards, is one of the +sons of Father Christmas in Jonson’s Masque. He comes in +with ‘a pair-royal of aces in his hat; his garment all done +over with pairs and purs; his squire carrying a box, cards, and +counters.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 55</b>. The reference is to the ancient salt-cellar, +which parted superiors from inferiors at table.<br> +<br> +<b>line 75</b>. ‘It seems certain that the <i>Mummers</i> +of England, who (in Northumberland at least) used to go about in +disguise to the neighbouring houses, bearing the then useless +ploughshares; and the <i>Guisards</i> of Scotland, not yet in +total disuse, present, in some indistinct degree, a shadow of the +old mysteries, which were the origin of the English drama. In +Scotland, (<i>me ipso teste</i>,) we were wont, during my +boyhood, to take the characters of the apostles, at least of +Peter, Paul, and Judas Iscariot; the first had the keys, the +second carried a sword, and the last the bag, in which the dole +of our neighbours’ plum-cake was deposited. One played as a +champion, and recited some traditional rhymes; another was:-<br> +<br> + ....“Alexander, King of Macedon,<br> + Who conquer’d all the world but Scotland alone.<br> + When he came to Scotland his courage grew cold,<br> + To see a little nation courageous and bold.”<br> +<br> +These, and many such verses, were repeated, but by rote, and +unconnectedly. There were also, occasionally, I believe, a Saint +George. In all, there was a confused resemblance of the ancient +mysteries, in which the characters of Scripture, the Nine +Worthies, and other popular personages, were usually exhibited. +It were much to be wished that the Chester Mysteries were +published from the MS. in the Museum, with the annotations which +a diligent investigator of popular antiquities might still +supply. The late acute and valuable antiquary, Mr. Ritson, showed +me several memoranda towards such a task, which are probably now +dispersed or lost. See, however, his “Remarks on +Shakspeare,” 1783, p. 38.<br> +<br> +‘Since the first edition of “Marmion” appeared, +this subject has received much elucidation from the learned and +extensive labours of Mr. Douce; and the Chester Mysteries (edited +by J. H. Markland, Esq.) have been printed in a style of great +elegance and accuracy (in 1818) by Bensley and Sons, London, for +the Roxburghe Club. 1830.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 93</b>. The proverb ‘Blood is warmer than +water’ is also common in the form ‘Blood is thicker +than water.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 96</b>. ‘Mr. Scott of Harden, my kind and +affectionate friend, and distant relation, has the original of a +poetical invitation, addressed from his grandfather to my +relative, from which a few lines in the text are imitated. They +are dated, as the epistle in the text, from Mertoun-house, the +seat of the Harden family:-<br> +<br> + “With amber beard, and flaxen hair,<br> + And reverend apostolic air,<br> + Free of anxiety and care,<br> + Come hither, Christmas-day, and dine;<br> + We’ll mix sobriety with wine,<br> + And easy mirth with thoughts divine.<br> + We Christians think it holiday,<br> + On it no sin to feast or play;<br> + Others, in spite, may fast and pray.<br> + No superstition in the use<br> + Our ancestors made of a goose;<br> + Why may not we, as well as they,<br> + Be innocently blithe that day,<br> + On goose or pie, on wine or ale,<br> + And scorn enthusiastic zeal?-<br> + Pray come, and welcome, or plague rott<br> + Your friend and landlord, Walter Scott.<br> + “<i>Mr. Walter Scott, +Lessuden</i>”<br> +<br> +‘The venerable old gentleman, to whom the lines are +addressed was the younger brother of William Scott of Raeburn. +Being the cadet of a cadet of the Harden family, he had very +little to lose; yet he contrived to lose the small property he +had, by engaging in the civil wars and intrigues of the house of +Stuart. His veneration for the exiled family was so great, that +he swore he would not shave his beard till they were restored: a +mark of attachment, which, I suppose, had been common during +Cromwell’s usurpation; for, in Cowley’s “Cutter +of Coleman Street,” one drunken cavalier upbraids another, +that, when he was not able to afford to pay a barber, he affected +to “wear a beard for the King.” I sincerely hope this +was not absolutely the original reason of my ancestor’s +beard; which, as appears from a portrait in the possession of Sir +Henry Hay Macdougal, Bart., and another painted for the famous +Dr. Pitcairn, was a beard of a most dignified and venerable +appearance.’- SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 111</b>. ‘See Introduction to the +‘Minstrelsy,’ vol. iv. p. 59.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 117-20</b>. The Tweed winds and loiters around Mertoun +and its grounds as if fascinated by their attractiveness. With +line. 120 cp. ‘clipped in with the sea,’ I Henry IV, +iii. I. 45.<br> +<br> +<b>line 126</b>. Cp. 2 Henry IV, iii. 2. 228: ‘We have +heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow!’<br> +<br> +<b>line 132</b>. Scott quotes from Congreve’s ‘Old +Bachelor,’-’Hannibal was a pretty fellow, sir-a very +pretty fellow in his day,’ which is part of a speech by +Noll Bluffe, one of the characters.<br> +<br> +<b>line 139</b>. With ‘Limbo lost,’ cp. the +‘Limbo large and broad’ of ‘Paradise +Lost,’ iii. 495. Limbo is the borders of hell, and also +hell itself.<br> +<br> +<b>line 143</b>. ‘John Leyden, M. D., who had been of great +service to Sir Walter Scott in the preparation of the +‘Border Minstrelsy,’ sailed for India in April, 1803, +and died at Java in August, 1811, before completing his 36th +year.<br> +<br> + “Scenes sung by him who sings no more!<br> + His brief and bright career is o’er,<br> + And mute his tuneful strains;<br> + Quench’d is his lamp of varied lore,<br> + That loved the light of song to pour;<br> + A distant and a deadly shore<br> + Has LEYDEN’S cold remains.”<br> + <i>Lord of the Isles, Canto IV</i>.<br> +<br> +‘See a notice of his life in the Author’s +Miscellaneous Prose Works, vol. iv.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 146</b>. For the solemn and powerful interview of +Hercules and Ulysses, see close of Odyssey XI. <b>Wraith</b> +(Icel. <i>vordhr</i>, guardian) is here used for <i>shade</i>. In +Scottish superstition it signifies the shadow of a person seen +before death, as in ‘Guy Mannering,’ chap. x: +‘she was uncertain if it were the gipsy, or her +<i>wraith</i>.’ The most notable use of the word and the +superstition in recent poetry is in Rossetti’s +‘King’s Tragedy’:-<br> +<br> + ‘And the woman held his eyes with her eyes:-<br> + “O King; thou art come at last;<br> + But thy <i>wraith</i> has haunted the Scottish sea<br> + To my sight for four years past.<br> + “Four years it is since first I met,<br> + ‘Twixt the Duchray and the Dhu,<br> + A shape whose feet clung close in a shroud,<br> + And that shape for thine I knew,”‘ +&c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 148</b>. AEneid, III. 19.<br> +<br> +<b>line 159</b>. ‘This passage is illustrated by +“<i>Ceubren yr Ellyll</i>, or the Spirit’s Blasted +Tree,” a legendary tale, by the Reverend George Warrington, +who says:-<br> +<br> +‘“The event, on which the tale is founded, is +preserved by tradition in the family of the Vaughans of Hengwyrt; +nor is it entirely lost, even among the common people, who still +point out this oak to the passenger. The enmity between the two +Welsh chieftains, Howel Sele, and Owen Glendwr, was extreme, and +marked by vile treachery in the one, and ferocious cruelty in the +other. <a name="citation3"></a><a href="#footnote3">{3}</a> The +story is somewhat changed and softened, as more favourable to the +character of the two chiefs, and as better answering the purpose +of poetry, by admitting the passion of pity, and a greater degree +of sentiment in the description. Some trace of Howel Sele’s +mansion was to be seen a few years ago, and may perhaps be still +visible, in the park of Nannau, now belonging to Sir Robert +Vaughan, Baronet, in the wild and romantic tracks of +Merionethshire. The abbey mentioned passes under two names, Vener +and Cymmer. The former is retained, as more generally +used.”-See the Metrical Tale in Sir<br> +Walter Scott’s Poetical Works, vol. vii. pp. +396-402.’-LOCKHART.<br> +<br> +<b>line 161</b>. By a victory gained at Maida, 6 July 1806, Sir +John Stuart broke the power of the French in southern Italy.<br> +<br> +<b>line 163</b>. <i>‘The Daoine shi</i>,’ or <i>Men +of Peace</i>, of the Scottish Highlanders, rather resemble the +Scandinavian <i>Duergar</i>, than the English Fairies. +Notwithstanding their name, they are, if not absolutely +malevolent, at least peevish, discontented, and apt to do +mischief on slight provocation. The belief of their existence is +deeply impressed on the Highlanders, who think they are +particularly offended at mortals, who talk of them, who wear +their favourite colour green, or in any respect interfere with +their affairs. This is especially to be avoided on Friday, when, +whether as dedicated to Venus, with whom, in Germany, this +subterraneous people are held nearly connected, or for a more +solemn reason, they are more active and possessed of greater +power. Some curious particulars concerning the popular +superstitions of the Highlanders may be found in Dr. +Graham’s Picturesque Sketches of +Perthshire.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Friday</b> (the day of the goddess Freya) is regarded as lucky +for marriages. Mr. Thiselton Dyer in ‘Domestic +Folk-lore,’ p. 39, quotes the City Chamberlain of Glasgow +as affirming that ‘nine-tenths of the marriages in Glasgow +are celebrated on a Friday.’ In Hungary nothing of any +importance is undertaken on a Friday, and there is a Hungarian +proverb which says that ‘whoever is merry on a Friday is +sure to weep on the Sunday.’ The Sicilians make the +exception for weddings. In America Friday is a lucky daythe New +World, no doubt, upsetting in this as other matters the +conservatism of the Old. The superstition of sailors about Friday +is famous. Cp. the old English song ‘The Mermaid.’ +For further discussion of the subject see ‘Notes and +Queries,’ 6th S. vol. vi.<br> +<br> +<b>line 175</b>. ‘The journal of the Friend, to whom the +Fourth Canto of the poem is inscribed, furnished me with the +following account of a striking superstition:-<br> +<br> +‘“Passed the pretty little village of Franchemont +(near Spaw), with the romantic ruins of the old castle of the +counts of that name. The road leads through many delightful +vales, on a rising ground: at the extremity of one of them stands +the ancient castle, now the subject of many superstitions +legends. It is firmly believed by the neighbouring peasantry, +that the last Baron of Franchemont deposited, in one of the +vaults of the castle, a ponderous chest, containing an immense +treasure in gold and silver, which, by some magic spell, was +intrusted to the care of the Devil, who is constantly found +sitting on the chest in the shape of a huntsman. Any one +adventurous enough to touch the chest is instantly seized with +the palsy. Upon one occasion, a priest of noted piety was brought +to the vault: he used all the arts of exorcism to persuade his +infernal majesty to vacate his seat, but in vain; the huntsman +remained immovable. At last, moved by the earnestness of the +priest, he told him, that he would agree to resign the chest, if +the exorciser would sign his name with blood. But the priest +understood his meaning, and refused, as by that act he would have +delivered over his soul to the Devil. Yet if any body can +discover the mystic words used by the person who deposited the +treasure, and pronounced them, the fiend must instantly decamp. I +had many stories of a similar nature from a peasant, who had +himself seen the Devil, in the shape of a great +cat.”‘-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 190. Begun</b> has always been a possible past tense in +poetry, and living poets continue its use. There is an example in +Mr. Browning’s ‘Waring’:-<br> +<br> + ‘Give me my so-long promised son,<br> + Let Waring end what I <i>begun</i>;<br> +<br> +and Lord Tennyson writes:-<br> +<br> + ‘The light of days when life <i>begun</i>!<br> +<br> +in the memorial verses prefixed to his brother’s +‘Collected Sonnets’ (1879).<br> +<br> +<b>line 205</b>. Robert Lindsay of Pittscottie (a Fife estate, +eastward of Cupar) lived in the first half of the sixteenth +century, and wrote ‘Chronicles of Scotland’ from +James II to Mary. Nothing further of him is known with certainty. +Like the Lion King he was a cadet of the noble family of Lindsay, +including Crawford and Lindsay and Lindsay of the Byres.<br> +<br> +<b>line 207</b>. See above, IV. xiv.<br> +<br> +<b>line 212</b>. John of Fordun (a village in Kincardineshire) +about the end of the fourteenth century wrote the first five of +the sixteen books of the ‘Scotochronicon,’ the work +being completed by Walter Bower, appointed Abbot of St. +Colm’s, 1418.<br> +<br> +<b>line 220. Gripple</b>, tenacious, narrow. See +‘Waverley,’ chap. lxvii. -’Naebody wad be sae +gripple as to take his gear’; and cp. ‘Faerie +Queene,’ VI. iv. 6:-<br> +<br> + ‘On his shield he <i>gripple</i> hold did +lay.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 225</b>. They hide away their treasures without using +them, as the magpie or the jackdaw does with the articles it +steals.<br> +<br> +<b>CANTO SIXTH</b>.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza I. line 6</b>. Cp. Job xxxix. 25.<br> +<br> +<b>line 8. Terouenne</b>, about thirty miles S. E. of Calais.<br> +<br> +<b>line 9. Leaguer</b>, the besiegers’ camp. Cp. +Longfellow’s ‘Evangeline,’ I. 5,--<br> +<br> + ‘Like to a gipsy camp, or a <i>leaguer</i> after a +battle.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza II. lines 27-30</b>. Cp. ‘Faerie Queene,’ +III. iv. 7.:-<br> +<br> + ‘The surges hore<br> + That ‘gainst the craggy clifts did loudly rore,<br> + And in their raging surquedry disdaynd<br> + That the fast earth affronted them so sore.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 34-6</b>. The cognizance was derived from the commission +Brace gave the Good Lord James Douglas to carry his heart to +Palestine. The <i>Field</i> is the whole surface of the shield, +the <i>Chief</i> the upper portion. The <i>Mullet</i> is a +star-shaped figure resembling the rowel of a spur, and having +five points.<br> +<br> +<b>line 45. Bartisan</b>, a small overhanging turret.<br> +<br> +<b>line 46</b>. With vantage-coign, or advantageous corner, cp. +‘Macbeth,’ i. 6. 7.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza III. line 69. Adown</b>, poetical for down. Cp. +Chaucer, ‘Monkes Tale,’ 3630, Clarendon Press +ed.:-<br> +<br> + ‘Thus day by day this child bigan to crye<br> + Til in his fadres barme <i>adoun</i> it lay.’<br> +<br> +<b>lines 86-91</b>. Cp. Coleridge’s +‘Christabel,’ line 68.<br> +<br> + ‘I guess, ‘twas frightful there to see<br> + A lady so richly clad as she-<br> + Beautiful exceedingly.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IV. lines 106-9</b>. Cp. ‘Il Penseroso,’ +161-6,-<br> +<br> + ‘There let the pealing organ blow<br> + To the full voic’d quire below,<br> + In service high, and anthems clear,<br> + As may with sweetness, through mine ear,<br> + Dissolve me into ecstasies,<br> + And bring all Heav’n before mine eyes.’<br> +<br> +See also Coleridge’s ‘Dejection,’ v.:-<br> +<br> + ‘O pure of heart! thou need’st not ask of me<br> + What this strong music in the soul may be!’ +&c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 112</b>. ‘I shall only produce one instance more of +the great veneration paid to Lady Hilda, which still prevails +even in these our days; and that is, the constant opinion, that +she rendered, and still renders herself visible, on some +occasions, in the Abbey of Streamshalh, or Whitby, where she so +long resided. At a particular time of the year (viz. in the +summer months), at ten or eleven in the forenoon, the sunbeams +fall in the inside of the northern part of the choir; and +‘tis then that the spectators, who stand on the west side +of Whitby churchyard, so as just to see the most northerly part +of the abbey pass the north end of Whitby church, imagine they +perceive, in one of the highest windows there, the resemblance of +a woman, arrayed in a shroud. Though we are certain this is only +a reflection caused by the splendour of the sunbeams, yet fame +reports it, and it is constantly believed among the vulgar, to be +an appearance of Lady Hilda in her shroud, or rather in a +glorified state; before which, I make no doubt, the Papists, even +in these our days, offer up their prayers with as much zeal and +devotion, as before any other image of their most glorified +saint.” CHARLTON’S <i>History of Whitby</i>, p. +33.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza V. line 131</b>. <b>What makes</b>, what is it doing? +Cp. Judges xviii. 3: ‘What makest thou in this +place?’ The usage is frequent in Shakespeare; as e.g. As Yo +Like It, i. I. 31: ‘Now sir! what make you here?’<br> +<br> +<b>line 137. Blood-gouts</b>, spots of blood. Cp. ‘gouts of +blood,’ Macbeth, ii. I. 46.<br> +<br> +<b>line 150</b>. Shakespeare, King John, iv. 2. 13, makes +Salisbury say that-<br> +<br> + ‘To smooth the ice, or add another hue<br> + Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light<br> + To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish<br> + Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VI. line 174. Beadsman</b>, one hired to pray for +another. Cp. ‘Piers the Plowman,’ B, III. 40:-<br> +<br> + ‘I shal assoille the my-selue for a seme of +whete,<br> + And also be thi <i>bedeman</i>.’<br> +<br> +Edie Ochiltree, the Blue-gown in ‘The Antiquary,’ +belongs to the class called King’s Bedesmen, ‘an +order of paupers to whom the kings of Scotland were in the custom +of distributing a certain alms, in conformity with the ordinances +of the Catholic Church, and who were expected in return to pray +for the royal welfare and that of the state.’ See Introd. +to the novel. Cp. also Henry V, iv. I. 315:-<br> +<br> + ‘Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,’ +&c.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VII. line 218</b>. The Palmer’s dress is put off +like the serpent’s slough. Cp. the Earl of Surrey’s +Spring sonnet-<br> +<br> + ‘The adder all her slough away she flings.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza VIII. line 261. Featly</b>, cleverly, dexterously. Cp. +Tempest, i. 2. 380:-<br> +<br> + ‘Foot it <i>featly</i> here and there.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza IX. line 271</b>. See Otterbourne, ‘Border +Minstrelsy,’ i. p. 345. Douglas’s death, during the +battle was kept secret, so that when his men conquered, as if +still under his command, the old prophecy was fulfilled that a +dead Douglas should, win the field.<br> +<br> +<b>line 280</b>. James encamped in Twisel glen (local spelling +‘Twizel’) before taking post on Flodden.<br> +<br> +<b>line 282</b>. The squire’s final act of qualification +for knighthood was to watch by his armour till midnight. In his +Essay on ‘Chivalry’ Scott says: ‘The candidates +watched their arms <i>all night</i> in a church or chapel, and +prepared for the honour to be conferred on them by vigil, fast, +and prayer.’ For a hasty and picturesque ceremony of +knighthood see Scott’s ‘Halidon Hill,’ I. +ii.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XI</b>. With the moonlight scene opening this stanza, +cp. ‘Lay of Last Minstrel,’ II. i. Scott is fond of +moonlight effects, and he always succeeds with them. See e.g. a +passage in ‘Woodstock,’ chap. xix, beginning +‘There is, I know not why, something peculiarly pleasing to +the imagination in contemplating the Queen of Night,’ +&c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 327</b>. ‘The well-known Gawain Douglas, Bishop of +Dunkeld, son of Archibald Bell-the-Cat, Earl of Angus. He was +author of a Scottish metrical version of the +“AEneid,” and of many other poetical pieces of great +merit. He had not at this period attained the +mitre.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +A word of caution is necessary as to the ‘many +pieces’ mentioned here. Besides his ‘AEneid, ‘ +Douglas’s extant works are ‘Palice of Honour,’ +‘King Hart,’ and a poem of four stanzas entitled +‘Conscience.’ To each book of the +‘AEneid,’ however, as well as to the supplementary +thirteenth book of Maphaeus Vegius, which he also translates, he +prefixes an introductory poem, so that there is a sense in which +it is correct to call him the author of ‘many +pieces.’ His works were first published in complete form in +1874, in four volumes,<br> +admirably edited by the late Dr. John Small. See ‘Dict. of +Nat. Biog.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 329. Rocquet</b>, a linen surplice.<br> +<br> +<b>line 344</b>, ‘Angus had strength and personal activity +corresponding to his courage. Spens of Kilspindie, a favourite of +James IV, having spoken of him lightly, the Earl met him while +hawking, and, compelling him to single combat, at one blow cut +asunder his thigh-bone, and killed him on the spot. But ere he +could obtain James’s pardon for this slaughter, Angus was +obliged to yield his castle of Hermitage, in exchange for that of +Bothwell, which was some diminution to the family greatness. The +sword with which he struck so remarkable a blow, was presented by +his descendant, James Earl of Morton, afterwards Regent of +Scotland, to Lord Lindesay of the Byres, when he defied Bothwell +to single combat on Carberry-hill. See Introduction to the +<i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XII. line 379</b>. With the use of <b>fall</b> = befall +cp. Antony and Cleopatra, iii. 7. 38:-<br> +<br> + ‘No disgrace<br> + Shall <i>fall</i> you for refusing him at sea.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIV. line. Saint Bride</b> is Saint Bridget of Ireland, +who became popular in England and Scotland under the abbreviated +form of her name. She was ‘a favourite saint of the house +of Douglas, and of the Earl of Angus in particular.’ See +note to Clarendon Press ‘Lay of Last Minstrel,’ VI. +469.<br> +<br> +<b>line 437</b>. ‘This ebullition of violence in the potent +Earl of Angus is not without its example in the real history of +the house of Douglas, whose chieftains possessed the ferocity, +with the heroic virtues, of a savage state. The most curious +instance occurred in the case of Maclellan, Tutor of Bombay, who, +having refused to acknowledge the pre-eminence claimed by Douglas +over the gentlemen and Barons of Galloway, was seized and +imprisoned by the Earl, in his castle of the Thrieve, on the +borders of Kirkcudbrightshire. Sir Patrick Gray, commander of +King James the Second’s guard, was uncle to the Tutor of +Bombay, and obtained from the King a “sweet letter of +supplication,” praying the Earl to deliver his prisoner +into Gray’s hand. When Sir Patrick arrived at the castle, +he was received with all the honour due to a favourite servant of +the King’s household; but while he was at dinner, the Earl, +who suspected his errand, caused his prisoner to be led forth and +beheaded. After dinner, Sir Patrick presented the King’s +letter to the Earl, who received it with great affectation of +reverence; “and took him by the hand, and led him forth to +the green, where the gentleman was lying dead, and showed him the +manner, and said, ‘Sir Patrick, you are come a little too +late; yonder is your sister’s son lying, but he wants the +head; take his body, and do with it what you will.’-Sir +Patrick answered again with a sore heart, and said, ‘My +lord, if ye have taken from him his head, dispone upon the body +as ye please;’ and with that called for his horse, and +leaped thereon; and when he was on horseback, he said to the Earl +on this manner: ‘My Lord, if I live, you shall be rewarded +for your labours, that you have used at this time, according to +your demerits.’<br> +<br> +‘“At this saying the Earl was highly offended, and +cried for horse. Sir Patrick, seeing the Earl’s fury, +spurred his horse, but he was chased near Edinburgh ere they left +him; and had it not been his led horse was so tried and good, he +had been taken.”‘-PITSCOTTIE’S <i>History</i>, +p. 39.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XV. line 456</b>. Cp. above, III. 429, and see As You +Like It, i. 2. 222: ‘Hercules be thy speed!’ The +short epistle of St. Jude is uncompromising in its condemnation +of those who have fallen from their faith-who have forgotten, so +to speak, their vows of true knighthood. It closes with the +beautiful ascription-‘To Him that is able to keep you from +falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of His +glory with exceeding joy.’ There is deep significance, +therefore, in this appeal of the venerable and outraged knight +for the protection of St. Jude.<br> +<br> +<b>line 457</b>. ‘Lest the reader should partake of the +Earl’s astonishment, and consider the crime as inconsistent +with the manners of the period, I have to remind him of the +numerous forgeries (partly executed by a female assistant) +devised by Robert of Artois, to forward his suit against the +Countess Matilda; which, being detected, occasioned his flight +into England, and proved the remote cause of Edward the +Third’s memorable wars in France. John Harding, also, was +expressly hired by Edward IV to forge such documents as might +appear to establish the claim of fealty asserted over Scotland by +the English monarchs.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 458. It likes</b> was long used impersonally, in the +sense of it pleases. Cp. King John, ii. 2. 234: ‘It likes +us well.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 460. St. Bothan</b>, Bythen, or Bethan is said to have +been a cousin of St. Columba and his successor at Iona. His name +is preserved in the Berwickshire parish, +Abbey-Saint-Bathan’s; where, towards the close of the +twelfth century, a Cistertian nunnery, with the title of a +priory, was dedicated to him by Ada, daughter of William the +Lion. There is no remaining trace of this structure.<br> +<br> +<b>line 461</b>. The other sons could at least sign their names. +Their signatures are reproduced in <i>facsimile</i> in ‘The +Douglas Book’ by Sir William Eraser, 4 vols. 4to, Edin. +1886 (privately printed).<br> +<br> +<b>line 468. Fairly</b>, well, elegantly, as in Chaucer’s +Prol. 94:-<br> +<br> + ‘Well cowde he sitte on hors, and <i>faire</i> +ryde’;<br> +<br> +and in ‘Faerie Queene,’ I. i. 8:-<br> +<br> + ‘Full jolly knight he seemed, and <i>faire</i> did +sitt.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVI. line 498</b>. This line is a comprehensive +description of a perfectly satisfactory charger or hunter.<br> +<br> +<b>line 499. Sholto</b> is one of the Douglas family names. One +of the Earl’s sons, being sheriff, could not go with his +brothers to the war.<br> +<br> +<b>line 500</b>. ‘His eldest son, the Master of +Angus.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVII. line 532</b>. In Bacon’s ingenious essay, +‘Of Simulation and Dissimulation,’ he states these as +the three disadvantages of the qualities:-’The first, that +Simulation and Dissimulation commonly carry with them a show of +fearfulness, which, in any business, doth spoil the feathers of +round flying up to the mark. The second, that it puzzleth and +perplexeth the conceits of many, that would otherwise co-operate +with him, and makes a man almost alone to his own ends. The +third, and greatest, is that it depriveth a man of one of the +most principal instruments for action; which is trust and +belief.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XVIII. line 540</b>. ‘This was a Cistertian house +of religion, now almost entirely demolished. Lennel House is now +the residence of my venerable friend, Patrick Brydone, Esquire, +so well known in the literary world. <a name="citation4"></a><a +href="#footnote4">{4}</a> It is situated near Coldstream, almost +opposite Cornhill, and consequently very near to Flodden +Field.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 568. traversed</b>, moved in opposition, as in fencing. +Cp. Merry Wives, ii. 3. 23: ‘To see thee fight, to see thee +foin, to see thee traverse,’ &c.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XIX line 573</b>, ‘On the evening previous to the +memorable battle of Flodden, Surrey’s headquarters were at +Barmoor Wood, and King James held an inaccessible position on the +ridge of Flodden-hill, one of the last and lowest eminences +detached from the ridge of Cheviot. The Till, a deep and slow +river, winded between the armies. On the morning of the 9th +September, 1513, Surrey marched in a north-westerly direction, +and crossed the Till, with his van and artillery, at Twisel +Bridge, nigh where that river joins the Tweed, his rear-guard +column passing about a mile higher, by a ford. This movement had +the double effect of placing his army between King James and his +supplies from Scotland, and of striking the Scottish monarch with +surprise, as he seems to have relied on the depth of the river in +his front. But as the passage, both over the bridge and through +the ford, was difficult and slow, it seems possible that the +English might have been attacked to great advantage while +straggling with these natural obstacles. I know not if we are to +impute James’s forbearance to want of military skill, or to +the romantic declaration which Pitscottie puts in his mouth, +“that he was determined to have his enemies before him on a +plain field,” and therefore would suffer no interruption to +be given, even by artillery, to their passing the river.<br> +<br> +‘The ancient bridge of Twisel, by which the English crossed +the Till, is still standing beneath Twisel Castle, a splendid +pile of Gothic architecture, as now rebuilt by Sir Francis Blake, +Bart., whose extensive plantations have so much improved the +country around. The glen is romantic and delightful, with steep +banks on each side, covered with copse, particularly with +hawthorn. Beneath a tall rock, near the bridge, is a plentiful +fountain, called St. Helen’s Well.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +That James was credited by his contemporaries with military skill +and ample courage will be seen by reference to Barclay’s +‘Ship of Fooles,’ formerly referred to. The poet +proposes a grand general European movement against the Turks, and +suggests James IV as the military leader. The following +complimentary acrostic is a feature of the passage:-<br> +<br> + ‘I n prudence pereles is this moste comely kinge;<br> + A nd as for his strength and magnanimitie<br> + C onceming his noble dedes in every thinge,<br> + O ne founde on grounde like to him can not be.<br> + B y birth borne to boldenes and audacitie,<br> + U nder the bolde planet of Mars the champion,<br> + S urely to subdue his enemies eche one.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 583. Sullen</b> is admirably descriptive of the leading +feature in the appearance of the Till just below Twisel Bridge. +No one contrasting it with the Tweed at Norham will have +difficulty in understanding the saying that:-<br> +<br> + ‘For a’e man that Tweed droons, Till droons +three.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XX. line 608</b>. The earlier editions have vails, +‘lowers’ or ‘checks’; as in Venus and +Adonis, 956, ‘She vailed her eyelids.’ The edition of +1833 reads ‘<i>vails</i>, contr. for +‘avails.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 610</b>. Douglas and Randolph were two of Bruce’s +most trusted leaders.<br> +<br> +<b>line 611</b>. See anecdote in ‘Border Minstrelsy,’ +ii. 245 (1833 ed.), with its culmination, ‘O, for one hour +of Dundee!’ Cp. ‘Pleasures of Hope’ (close of +Poland passage):-<br> +<br> + ‘Oh! once again to Freedom’s cause return<br> + The Patriot Tell-the Bruce of Bannockburn!’<br> +<br> +and Wordsworth’s sonnet, ‘In the Pass of +Killicranky,’ in which the aspiration for ‘one hour +of that Dundee’ is prompted by the fear of an invasion in +1803.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXI. line 626. Hap what hap</b>, come what may. Cp. +above ‘tide what tide,’ III. 416.<br> +<br> +<b>line 627. Basnet</b>, a light helmet.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIII. line 682</b>. ‘The reader cannot here +expect a full account of the Battle of Flodden: but, so far as is +necessary to understand the romance, I beg to remind him, that, +when the English army, by their skilful countermarch, were fairly +placed between King James and his own country, the Scottish +monarch resolved to fight; and, setting fire to his tents, +descended from the ridge of Flodden to secure the neighbouring +eminence of Brankstone, on which that village is built. Thus the +two armies met, almost without seeing each other, when, according +to the old poem of “Flodden Field,”-<br> +<br> + “The English line stretch’d east and west,<br> + And southward were their faces set;<br> + The Scottish northward proudly prest,<br> + And manfully their foes they met.”<br> +<br> +The English army advanced in four divisions. On the right, which +first engaged, were the sons of Earl Surrey, namely, Thomas +Howard, the Admiral of England, and Sir Edmund, the Knight +Marshal of the army. Their divisions were separated from each +other; but, at the request of Sir Edmund, his brother’s +battalion was drawn very near to his own. The centre was +commanded by Surrey in person; the left wing by Sir Edward +Stanley, with the men of Lancashire, and of the palatinate of +Chester. Lord Dacres, with a large body of horse, formed a +reserve. When the smoke, which the wind had driven between the +armies, was somewhat dispersed, they perceived the Scots, who had +moved down the hill in a similar order of battle, and in deep +silence. <a name="citation5"></a><a href="#footnote5">{5}</a> +The Earls of Huntley and of Home commanded their left wing, and +charged Sir Edmund Howard with such success as entirely to defeat +his part of the English right wing. Sir Edmund’s banner was +beaten down, and he himself escaped with difficulty to his +brother’s division. The Admiral, however, stood firm; and +Dacre advancing to his support with the reserve of cavalry, +probably between the interval of the divisions commanded by the +brothers Howard, appears to have kept the victors in effectual +check. Home’s men, chiefly Borderers, began to pillage the +baggage of both armies; and their leader is branded, by the +Scottish historians, with negligence or treachery. On the other +hand, Huntley, on whom they bestow many encomiums, is said, by +the English historians, to have left the field after the first +charge. Meanwhile the Admiral, whose flank these chiefs ought to +have attacked, availed himself of their inactivity, and pushed +forward against another large division of the Scottish army in +his front, headed by the Earls of Crawford and Montrose, both of +whom were slain, and their forces routed. On the left, the +success of the English was yet more decisive; for the Scottish +right wing, consisting of undisciplined Highlanders, commanded by +Lennox and Argyle, was unable to sustain the charge of Sir Edward +Stanley, and especially the severe execution of the Lancashire +archers. The King and Surrey, who commanded the respective +centres of their armies, were meanwhile engaged in close and +dubious conflict. James, surrounded by the flower of his kingdom, +and impatient of the galling discharge of arrows, supported also +by his reserve under Bothwell, charged with such fury that the +standard of Surrey was in danger. At that critical moment, +Stanley, who had routed the left wing of the Scottish, pursued +his career of victory, and arrived on the right flank, and in the +rear of James’s division, which, throwing itself into a +circle, disputed the battle till night came on. Surrey then drew +back his forces; for the Scottish centre not having been broken, +and the left wing being victorious, he yet doubted the event of +the field. The Scottish army, however, felt their loss, and +abandoned the field of battle in disorder, before dawn. They +lost, perhaps, from eight to ten thousand men; but that included +the very prime of their nobility, gentry, and even clergy. +Scarce a family of eminence but has an ancestor killed at +Flodden; and there is no province in Scotland, even at this day, +where the battle is mentioned without a sensation of terror and +sorrow. The English also lost a great number of men, perhaps +within one-third of the vanquished, but they were of inferior +note.-See the only distinct detail of the Field of Flodden in +PINKERTON’S <i>History</i>, Book xi; all former accounts +being full of blunders and inconsistency.<br> +<br> +‘The spot from which Clara views the battle, must be +supposed to have been on a hillock commanding the rear of the +English right wing, which was defeated, and in which conflict +Marmion is supposed to have fallen.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +Lockhart adds this quotation:-’In 1810, as Sir Carnaby +Haggerstone’s workmen were digging in Flodden Field, they +came to a pit filled with human bones, and which seemed of great +extent; but, alarmed at the sight, they immediately filled up the +excavation, and proceeded no farther.<br> +<br> +‘In 1817, Mr. Grey of Millfield Hill found, near the traces +of an ancient encampment, a short distance from Flodden Field, a +tumulus, which, on removing, exhibited a very singular sepulchre. +In the centre, a large urn was found, but in a thousand pieces. +It had either been broken to pieces by the stones falling upon it +when digging, or had gone to pieces on the admission of the air. +This urn was surrounded by a number of cells formed of flat +stones, in the shape of graves, but too small to hold the body in +its natural state. These sepulchral recesses contained nothing +except ashes, or dust of the same kind as that in the +urn.”-<i>Sykes’ Local Records</i> (2 vols. 8vo, +1833), vol. ii. pp. 60 and 109.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXIV. line 717</b>. ‘Sir Brian Tunstall, called +in the romantic language of the time, Tunstall the Undefiled, was +one of the few Englishmen of rank slain at Flodden. He figures in +the ancient English poem, to which I may safely refer my readers, +as an edition, with full explanatory notes, has been published by +my friend, Mr. Henry Weber. Tunstall, perhaps, derived his +epithet of undefiled from his white armour and banner, the latter +bearing a white cock, about to crow, as well as from his +unstained loyalty and knightly faith. His place of residence was +Thurland Castle.’--SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXV. line 744. Bent</b>, the slope of the hill. It is +less likely to mean the coarse grass on the hill-also a possible +meaning of the word-because spectators would see the declivity +and not what was on it. For the former usage see Dryden, +‘Palamon and Arcite,’<br> +II. 342-45:-<br> +<br> + ‘A mountain stood,<br> + Threat’ning from high, and overlook’d the +wood;<br> + Beneath the low’ring brow, and on a <i>bent</i>,<br> + The temple stood of Mars armipotent.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 745</b>. The tent was fired so that the forces might +descend amid the rolling smoke.<br> +<br> +<b>line 747</b>. As a poetical critic Jeffrey was right for once +when he wrote thus of this great battle piece:-<br> +<br> +‘Of all the poetical battles which have been fought, from +the days of Homer to those of Mr. Southey, there is none, in our +opinion, at all comparable, for interest and animation-for +breadth of drawing and magnificence of effect-with this of Mr. +Scott’s.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 757</b>. To this day a commanding position to the west of +the hill is called the ‘King’s Chair.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVI. line 795</b>. ‘Badenoch-man,’ says +Lockhart, ‘is the correction of the author’s +interleaved copy of the ed. of 1830.’ <i>Highlandman</i> +was the previous reading. Badenoch is in the S. E. of co. of +Inverness, between Monagh Lea mountains and Grampians.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXVIII. line 867 Sped</b>, undone, killed. Cp. Merchant +of Venice, ii. 9. 70: ‘ So be gone; you are sped.’ +See also note on ‘Lycidas’ 122, Clarendon Press +Milton, vol. i.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXX</b>. The two prominent features of this stanza are +the sweet tenderness of the verses, and the illustration of the +irony of events in the striking culmination of the hero’s +career.<br> +<br> +<b>line 904</b>. Cp. Pope, ‘Moral Epistles,’ II. +269:-<br> +<br> + ‘And yet, believe me, good as well as ill,<br> + Woman’s at best a contradiction still.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 906</b>. Cp. Byron’s ‘Sardanapalus,’ I. +ii. 511:-<br> +<br> + ‘Your last sighs<br> + Too often breathed out in a woman’s hearing,<br> + When men have shrunk from the ignoble care<br> + Of watching the last hour of him who led them.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXII. line 972</b>. See above, III. x.<br> +<br> +<b>line 976</b>. Metaphor from the sand-glass. Cp. Pericles, v. +2. 26:-<br> +<br> + ‘Now our sands are almost run.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXIII. lines 999-1004</b>. Charlemagne’s +rear-guard under Roland was cut to pieces by heathen forces at +Roncesvalles, a valley in Navarre, in 778. Roland might have +summoned his uncle Charlemagne by blowing his magic horn, but +this his valour prevented him from doing till too late. He was +fatally wounded, and the ‘Song of Roland,’ telling of +his worth and prowess, is one of the best of the mediaeval +romances. Olivier was also a distinguished paladin, and the names +of the two are immortalized in the proverb ‘A Rowland for +an Oliver.’ Fontarabia is on the coast of Spain, about +thirty miles from Roncesvalles. See Paradise Lost, I. 586, and +note in Clarendon Press ed.<br> +<br> +<b>line 1011 Our Caledonian pride</b>, fitly and tenderly named +‘the flowers of the forest.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXIV. line 1034</b>. Cp. ‘spearmen’s +twilight wood,’ ‘Lady of the Lake,’ VI. +xvii.<br> +<br> +<b>line 1035</b>. Cp. Aytoun’s ‘Edinburgh after +Flodden,’ vii, where Randolph Murray tells of the +‘riven banner’:-<br> +<br> + ‘It was guarded well and long<br> + By your brothers and your children,<br> + By the valiant and the strong.<br> + One by one they fell around it,<br> + As the archers laid them low,<br> + Grimly dying, still unconquered,<br> + With their faces to the foe.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 1059</b>. Lockhart here gives an extract from +Jeffrey:-‘The powerful poetry of these passages can receive +no illustration from any praise or observations of ours. It is +superior, in our apprehension, to all that this author has +hitherto produced; and, with a few faults of diction, equal to +any thing that has ever been written upon similar subjects. From +the moment the author gets in sight of FIodden Field, indeed, to +the end of the poem, there is no tame writing, and no +intervention of ordinary passages. He does not once flag or grow +tedious; and neither stops to describe dresses and ceremonies, +nor to commemorate the harsh names of feudal barons from the +Border. There is a flight of five or six hundred lines, in short, +in which he never stoops his wing, nor wavers in his course; but +carries the reader forward with a more rapid, sustained, and +lofty movement, than any epic bard that we can at present +remember.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXV. 1. 1067</b>. Lockhart quotes from Byron’s +‘Lara’ as a parallel,-<br> +<br> + ‘Day glimmers on the dying and the dead,<br> + The cloven cuirass, and the helmless head,’ +&c.<br> +<br> +<b>line 1084</b>. ‘There can be no doubt that King James +fell in the battle of Flodden. He was killed, says the curious +French Gazette, within a lance’s length of the Earl of +Surrey; and the same account adds, that none of his division were +made prisoners, though many were killed; a circumstance that +testifies the desperation of their resistance. The Scottish +historians record many of the idle reports which passed among the +vulgar of their day. Home was accused, by the popular voice, not +only of failing to support the King, but even of having carried +him out of the field, and murdered him. And this tale was revived +in my remembrance, by an unauthenticated story of a skeleton, +wrapped in a bull’s hide, and surrounded with an iron +chain, said to have been found in the well of Home Castle, for +which, on enquiry, I could never find any better authority than +the sexton of the parish having said, that, <i>if the well were +cleaned out, he would not be surprised at such a discovery</i>. +Home was the chamberlain of the King, and his prime favourite; he +had much to lose (in fact did lose all) in consequence of +James’s death, and nothing earthly to gain by that event: +but the retreat, or inactivity, of the left wing, which he +commanded, after defeating Sir Edmund Howard, and even the +circumstance of his returning unhurt, and loaded with spoil, from +so fatal a conflict, rendered the propagation of any calumny +against him easy and acceptable. Other reports gave a still more +romantic turn to the King’s fate, and averred, that James, +weary of greatness after the carnage among his nobles, had gone +on a pilgrimage, to merit absolution for the death of his father, +and the breach of his oath of amity to Henry. In particular, it +was objected to the English, that they could never show the token +of the iron belt; which, however, he was likely enough to have +laid aside on the day of battle, as encumbering his personal +exertions. They produce a better evidence, the monarch’s +sword and dagger, which are still preserved in the Herald’s +College in London. Stowe has recorded a degrading story of the +disgrace with which the remains of the unfortunate monarch were +treated in his time. An unhewn column marks the spot where James +fell, still called the King’s Stone.’-SCOTT. See also +Mr. Jerningham’s ‘Norham Castle,’ chap. xi.<br> +<br> +<b>line 1084</b>. See above, V. vii, &c.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXVI. line 1096</b>. ‘This storm of Lichfield +Cathedral, which had been garrisoned on the part of the King, +took place in the Great Civil War. Lord Brook, who, with Sir John +Gill, commanded the assailants, was shot with a musket-ball +through the vizor of his helmet. The royalists remarked that he +was killed by a shot fired from St. Chad’s Cathedral, and +upon St. Chad’s day, and received his death-wound in the +very eye with which, he had said, he hoped to see the ruin of all +the cathedrals in England. The magnificent church in question +suffered cruelly upon this, and other occasions; the principal +spire being ruined by the fire of the +besiegers.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +Ceadda, or Chad, after resigning the bishopric of York in 669 A. +D., was appointed Bp. of Lichfield, where he ‘lived for a +little while in great holiness.’ See Hunt’s +‘English Church in the Middle Ages,’ p. 17.<br> +<br> +<b>line 1110</b>. The allusion is to the old fragment on Flodden, +which has been so skilfully extended by Jean Elliot and also by +Mrs. Cockburn in their national lyrics, ‘The Flowers +o’ the Forest.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 1117</b>. Once more the poet uses the irony of events +with significant force.<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXVII. line 1125</b>. There is now a font of stone +with a drinking cup, and an inscription on the back of the font +runs thus:-<br> +<br> + ‘Drink, weary pilgrim, drink and stay,<br> + Rest by the well of Sybil Grey.’<br> +<br> +<b>Stanza XXXVIII</b>. In this stanza the poet indicates the +spirit in which romances are written, clearly indicating that +those only that have ears will be able to hear. +<i>‘Phonanta sunetoisin’</i> might be the watchword +of all imaginative writers. Cp. Thackeray’s ‘Rebecca +and Rowena.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 1155</b>. Hall and Holinshed were chroniclers of the +sixteenth century, to both of whom Shakespeare was indebted for +pliant material.<br> +<br> +<b>line 1168</b>. Sir Thomas More, Lord Sands, and Anthony Denny. +See Henry VIII.<br> +<br> +<b>lines 1169-70</b>. The references are to old homely customs at +weddings. See Brand’s ‘Popular +Antiquities.’<br> +<br> +<b>L’ENVOY</b>.<br> +<br> +Scott’s fondness for archaisms makes him add his +L’Envoy in the manner of early English and Scottish poets. +See e.g. Spenser’s ‘Shepherd’s Calendar’ +and the ‘Phoenix’ of James VI.<br> +<br> +<b>line 4</b>. Rede, ‘used generally for <i>tale</i> or +<i>discourse</i>.’-SCOTT.<br> +<br> +<b>line 6</b>. Cp. William Morris’s introduction to +‘Earthly Paradise,’ where the poet calls himself<br> +<br> + ‘The idle singer of an empty day.’<br> +<br> +<b>line 17</b>. This hearty wish is uttered, no doubt, with +certain reminiscences of the author’s own school days. His +youthful spirit, and his genial sympathy with the young, are +prominent features in the character of Sir Walter Scott.<br> +<br> +<b>THE END</b>.<br> +<br> +<br> +Footnotes:<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1">{1}</a> Lockhart +quotes:-‘He resumed the bishopric of Lindisfarne, which, +owing to bad health, he again relinquished within less than three +months before his death.’-RAINE’S St. Cuthbert.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote2"></a><a href="#citation2">{2}</a> See, on +this curious subject, the Essay on Fairies, in the “Border +Minstrelsy,” vol. ii, under the fourth head; also Jackson +on Unbelief, p. 175. Chaucer calls Pluto the “King of +Faerie”; and Dunbar names him, “Pluto, that elrich +incubus.” If he was not actually the devil, he must be +considered as the “prince of the power of the air.” +The most curious instance of these surviving classical +superstitions is that of the Germans, concerning the Hill of +Venus, into which she attempts to entice all gallant knights, and +detains them there in a sort of Fools’ Paradise.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote3"></a><a href="#citation3">{3}</a> See +Pennant’s Tour in Wales.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote4"></a><a href="#citation4">{4}</a> +‘First Edition-Mr. Brydone has been many years dead. +1825.’<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote5"></a><a href="#citation5">{5}</a> +‘“Lesquels Escossois descendirent la montaigne in +bonne ordre, en la maniere que marchent Its Allemans, sans +parler, ne faire aucun bruit”-Gazette of the Battle, +PINKERTON’S History, Appendix, vol. ii. p. 456.’<br> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 5077 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + + |