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 THE ^^ORMAN CONQTTEST. 
 
 BOOK FIRST. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Invocation.-Dcparturo of Harold, son of Godwin, from England on n voyage to 
 Normandy .-Object of his visit stated. -Ed ward the Confessor's warning.- 
 Ihe storm and the slupwrock of Harold and lus companions, on the coast of 
 Ponthieu.-Thoy pass the night on tho sea-sliore.-T heir interview with Guy, 
 the ruler of that country .-A ransom is demanded of Harold, which being 
 renised, ho and his companions are cast into prison by Guy.-Meseago to and 
 from William, Duke of x\ormandy.-Uelease of Harold by Guy, the Duko of 
 Normandy ImWng paid the requited ransom.-Harold's arrival at Eu, in tho 
 territories of WiUiam.-His reception there by that Prince.-Description of 
 the Normans, with a brief account of their settlement on the banks of the 
 Seine.-Hlstorical sketch of Hollo and Ids line to William th.-) Conqueror, 
 with an out'ino of the youth of that Princo.-Harold goes to Rouen—His 
 reception there. -Short description of that court.-Matilda and hor sister 
 Judith.-Harold's visit described.-Hc mei-ts his brother Ulf, and Haco his 
 nephew, tho son of Sweyn the outlaw.-Their advice to Harold.-Uis conduct 
 and feelings dencribod.-Moans adopted by William and those around him, to 
 gain the friendship and alliance of Harold.-Brief sketch of Normandy as it 
 then was.-Tour of Harold and his companions with William, through parts 
 of that country. 
 
 Of that proud Norman who to England came, 
 And by strong arm achieved a conqueror's fame ; 
 Of Harold's fate whose valor shone in vain 
 On Hasting's field, where the great chief was slain, 
 I sing. Inspire my song, Muse ; for vast 
 The theme designed : with eye serene, the past 
 With me survey, where states obscurely rose 
 On time's dark waste, amid the boundless woes 
 
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 And wrath of nations, fiercest of that day, 
 
 But blended now beneath a mightier sway : 
 
 Reveal of ruthless men, designs profound. 
 
 On conquest bent, by cruel conquest crown'd • 
 
 Relate how Harold was induced to swear 
 
 A fatal oath ; how, thoughtless, to declare 
 
 A vassal's fealty to his country's foe ; 
 
 Pleas for dread crimes, chief cause of so much woe • 
 
 Pourtray the conflict, horrors of that day. 
 
 When England sunk beneath the Normal's sway 
 
 Close by the spot which marks her hero's grave ' 
 
 In that bright Isle, he died in vain to save : ' 
 
 To me impart, for time long since hath spread 
 
 Oblivion's shade o'er the renowned, the dead 
 
 High thoughts once theirs, that these perchance may live 
 
 And thro' the future in men's minds survive ; 
 
 Nor let the glories of that distant age, 
 
 Pass here unsung, grow dim upon ray page. 
 
 Now Godwin's son. Prince Harold, grelt and free. 
 With spreading sail stood joyfully to sea : 
 Grave, tried companions, men of martial fame. 
 Young nobles too, of proudest Saxon name, 
 With him embarked. The sky and winds were fair, 
 Ihough other scene they soon with him must share. 
 Two royal ships equipp'd to sail the deep. 
 Ride proudly on, and close their courses keep ; 
 Swift are they borne before the rising blast. 
 From England's shore toward the Norman coast, 
 To which Duke Harold and his suite are bound, 
 A realm to view in arts and arms renowned, 
 
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 And him to greet who ruled that famous land 
 By wise decrees, and with a warlike hand. 
 He sought, withal, his kinsmen to release, 
 By him beloved, once hostages of peace, 
 Whom haughty Godwin to his sovereign gave, 
 When the good king that rebel sought to save. 
 Assured he was Duke William would restore 
 His brother Ulf, whom many a year before, 
 With Haco too. King Edward thither sent. 
 As Princely guests (at least such his intent) 
 To the great Norman and his friendly court, 
 To guard the oath, the pledge he did extort. 
 Tlieir exile oft by Harold had been blamed. 
 And their release he earnestly had claimed. 
 At length the Norman solemn promise made, 
 That their return no longer should be stayed. 
 This being granted to Prince Harold's prayer, 
 Strong grew his wish to visit, seek them there ; 
 But that design much did King Edward blame. 
 And from his lips these words of warning came : 
 " Most noble Harold, much thy fame I prize. 
 And thy great life is light to Saxon eyes ; 
 Thy kinsmen loved have weary exile borne, 
 And still with thee I wait for their return : 
 'Tis true, alas ! my trust hath been betrayed. 
 And their release for many a year delayed : 
 But didst thou know that cruel Norma a's heart, 
 His crafty mind, the all-perfidioua part 
 Which mars the glories of his later life. 
 And oft displayed in long career of strife, 
 
Not to his shores thy eager steps would lead, 
 But thou wouldst shun those perils I now dread : 
 Once with Duke William, who misdoubts thy power, 
 Thy step will falter from that fatal hour : 
 His aim will be to bind, betray, destroy, 
 To blight that fame yet pure from earth's alloy ; 
 And thou wilt learn, wilt learn, perchance, too late, 
 That his resolves are like decrees of fate : 
 Harold, go not ; one less illustrious send. 
 Be he a stranger, brother, or some friend." 
 
 The warlike Prince made modest, grave reply. 
 That such designs he scorned and would defy : 
 He did not fear the Norman Duke to greet, 
 Despite the dangers which might there await ; 
 That he now hoped his kinsmen to release. 
 To cause their bondage and their woes to cease. 
 The monarch's fears the hero could not share, 
 And for that journey promptly did prepare. 
 King Edward yielded, yielded wth a sigh. 
 While unshed tears stood in his aged eye. 
 
 Full half the voyage Harold thus had run, 
 Wlien black as Hell, and with the setting sun, 
 A storm arose. Propelled by north-west winds 
 Toward that shore which fertile Ponthieu binds. 
 The ships are borne, by waves of ocean toss'd, 
 And headlong drive full on the rocky coast. 
 Soon darkness broods upon the raging deep ; 
 No more the ships upon their course they keep ; 
 Vast, sullen clouds which flash with horrid glare, 
 Move tempest-charged athwart the fields of air ; 
 
The viewless winds from realms of night and fear, 
 O'er ocean rush upon their winged career ; 
 The angry billows lift their heads on high, 
 And toss the ships up to the lurid sky, 
 Then dash them low into the wild abyss, 
 Where ocean's depths m Stygian horror hiss : 
 O'er the dark waste the livid lightnings play. 
 But show no hope upon that trackless way ; 
 The volleying thunders peal from cloud to cloud. 
 And add new terrors to the wasting flood ; 
 Torrents descend, and louder howls the storm, 
 And dangers threaten death in direst form. 
 Before the blast the heaving vessels fly. 
 Their canvas gone ; and oft is heard the cry. 
 The shrieks of men which on the winds arose. 
 As fiercer now and still the tempest grows : 
 The ships speed on ; one by a rocky isle 
 Sweeps merging near and almost strikes the while ; 
 But passmg thence, direct upon the coast. 
 She strands, rebounds, and on the shore is cast. 
 
 Hard following there thro' all that dreadful scene, 
 Each noble bark in peril like had been ; 
 And though dismay had seized upon the brave, 
 And all seem'd sinking to a watery grave. 
 By stem command still order to maintain, 
 Firm Harold stood ; but strength of soul was vain ; 
 For soon went forth a shriek of wild despair, 
 The wail of men about to perish there. 
 And Harold's ship struck with upheaving shock, 
 Then with a plunge was dash'd upon the rock. 
 
 
 i 
 
6 
 
 Now naught was heard save the dark tempest's roar, 
 And the loud wrath of ocean on tuat shore. 
 Thus hurled, o'erbome by the remorseless surge, 
 The lashing waves the double wTeck submerge, 
 And death impends at that ill-omened hour. 
 O'er all the life these vessels thither bore, 
 As the wild sea, with each receding wave, 
 Seeks to engulph them in unfathomed grave ; 
 But firm their footing crew and nobles keep, 
 And safe emerge from the involving deep. 
 Unnumbered perils these brave men had pass'd. 
 And there unite in plight forlorn at last. 
 No spark they bear the cheerful blaze to start. 
 No covering near a shelter to impart : 
 On that lone shore the dismal night wanes slow. 
 Cold skies above and earth's damp bed below : 
 On strand unknown they thus untimoly cast, 
 Await the dawn beneath the midnight blast. 
 
 From Eastern skies which day's first beams adorn. 
 Slow breaks the light thro' clouds that veil the mom ; 
 Far o'er the main now sweep the mists of night, 
 Smft on the paths of tempests in their flight ; 
 And on that waste, where man hath fixed no home. 
 Rush the wild winds and high the billoAvs foam. 
 The Saxons, shipwrecked on that sea-beat strand. 
 Beheld new dangers in a savage land. 
 A forest dense, as far as eye could reach, 
 With fohage dark extended to the beach, 
 Where high on rocks, beneath the ocean spray. 
 Their noble ships in shapeless ruin lay. 
 
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 No homes they saw, descried no trace of man, 
 
 And thud perplexed, they further search ho^-.a. 
 
 They wandered long, and glad at length to gain 
 
 The spot where Somme's dark waters cleave the main, 
 
 They there beheld the light of better hope, 
 
 In those long perils wherewithal they cope. 
 
 Soon the fierce natives, dwellers on that stream, 
 
 Whose banks with hostile population teem. 
 
 To those worn strangers, rescued from the wave, 
 
 Cold words addressed and harsh reception gave. 
 
 Straightway they led them to their haughty chief, 
 
 Ponthieu's proud Earl, whose sneering words were brief. 
 
 That small dominion, independent then. 
 
 Had long been governed by rapacious men ; 
 
 Its feebler frontier in disastrous hour 
 
 Had felt the pressure of the Noi-man power ; 
 
 And, tho' not ruled by that ambitious state, 
 
 Much William's influence it had known of late. 
 
 When first Prince Harold to Guy's presence came, 
 And to that chieftain was announced his name. 
 With lordly gesture and triumphant look, 
 The Saxon thus v cL insolence he spoke : 
 
 " Thou art Duke Harold, Godwin's famous son ! 
 A prize so great, in truth I've easy won ! 
 Thou art no doubt, upon this peaceful shore 
 Some fruitful scene of rapine to explore. 
 For thy release a ransom I shall claim 
 From all your band, and the amount I name, 
 Which, promptly paid, thy freedom take again: 
 Thy lordly person I would not detain." 
 
To whom tho Prince, with look of scornful pride, 
 And hau;,'hty words, indignantly replied : 
 
 " By insult, wretch, our woes thou dost relieve ! 
 Is this the welcome stran^jers hero receive ? 
 Cast in distress upon this savage shore, 
 Plunder awaits, awaits us something more. 
 A robber's den would human suffering shield, 
 And from foul wrong would greater safety yield. 
 From thee I claim, both for myself and these, 
 Complete exemption from thy impious laws. 
 My friends dismiss, let them go hence away ; 
 I, if need be, m\l as thy prisoner stay." 
 
 Te whom tho Earl a sneering answer made, 
 And growing fury in his words betrayed : 
 
 " My will thou know'st ; 'tis thine now to obey, 
 Or drag thy chain till all a ransom pay. 
 This law 's well known ; 'twas oft enforced before, 
 By thy command on many an English shore : 
 I hold no parley : this undoubted right 
 And this my due, I will exact, great knight. 
 When thou art willing, ready to comply, 
 Then free depart, but no evasion try. 
 Till then a dungeon claims thee, mighty lord ; 
 Thence thou wilt go at my command, my word." 
 Harold, incensed, with fierce and flashing eye. 
 In accents harsh to Ponthieu made reply : 
 
 " No prey, despoiler, slialt thou wrest from me : 
 Such base concession, foul reproach would be : 
 If naught can now our lives, our freedom shield. 
 To Heaven's will, but not to thine, we yield : 
 
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 Thy power wo liere and everywhere defy, 
 Nor will these hands a ransom o'er supply. 
 In this defiance we unite, combine : 
 This, our resolve ; act boldly now on thino." 
 
 To these stern words, to Harold's firm intent, 
 His Saxon followers murmui d their assent. 
 Such proud resistance Guy had not foreseen, 
 Or his demand in milder terms had been. 
 Ho deemed the Saxons ransom prompt would pay, 
 Or to obtain it, ask a brief delay. 
 Besides, his memory keenly could retrace 
 Deep wrongs inflicted by that hated race, 
 Against his sire upon his native shore, 
 And unredressed thro' many a year before ; 
 Bui Harold's words and accents had combined 
 Something that awed his rude and ruthless mind. 
 A soldier he of fierce and savage soul 
 And o'er his subjects wielding dread control ; 
 And thus defied, his will must be obeyed, 
 Nor in such moment weakness be displayed. 
 A thousand men, the vassals of the land. 
 Surround him now, obey his stem command. 
 The Saxon nobles, Harold at their head, 
 Were promptly thence into a dungeon led. 
 Refused the ransom, in Belrain detained, 
 Six weary days imprisoned they remained. 
 Once more did Harold plead his nobles' cause. 
 And for them sought exemption from these laws : 
 In vain he sued ; his prayer could not prevail : 
 The Earl refused, was deaf to all appeal. 
 
10 
 
 He then infomed this chieftain of Ponthieu, 
 The robber Guy who rich by rapine grew, 
 That he a message, fraught with grave import. 
 From Edward bore to William's sov'reign court : 
 The right he claimed, his faith then to evince, 
 And of his mission to apprise that Prince. 
 The Earl of Ponthieu gave a prompt consent. 
 And Harold's missive to the Norman sent. 
 With joy Duke William this despatch received, 
 , And all the value of the prize perceived ; 
 For Harold then was man of vast renown. 
 The foremost subject of great England's crown ; 
 And in designs which William's hopes had shared, 
 This mighty Prince could highest aid afford. 
 From Guy of Ponthieu his release was claimed. 
 And in mild words all harsh restraint was blamed : 
 Enjoined he was as guests to entertain 
 The noble Prince and all his knightly train ; 
 That to his court unhindered he should bring 
 The royal message of the English king. 
 The Earl of Ponthieu courteous answer made. 
 But all refused till ransom should be paid: 
 If this were done, Prince Harold he would send, 
 Without delay, and would himself attend 
 Him on his journey to Duke WilUam's court, 
 And, if required, would find secure escort. 
 The crafty Norman, with high hope to gain 
 The Saxon's heart, did his release obtain ; 
 He ransom paid and ceded tracts of land. 
 And bought a freedom mi^ht could not command. 
 
11 
 
 By William's aid, though fatal it may be, 
 Once more Prince Harold and his friends were free. 
 To Eu's fair town, in after times renowned, 
 The Norman soon with noble suite was bound : 
 Thither he went, these foreign lords to meet, 
 And chiefly Harold joyfully to greet. 
 The Saxons came, the Duke received them there, 
 With regal court'sy, eager to repair 
 The recent wrong, still fresh in Harold's heart. 
 And unatoned, might co" listrust impart. 
 William bland words, kind greetings now bestowed 
 Upon his guests and courteous arts employed. 
 Him he besought, nor then implored in vain, 
 As allied Prince long with him to remain ; 
 That Ulf and Haco, free at his demand, 
 Should both again behold their native land ; 
 That one and all, with freedom unconfined, 
 Would at his court a ready welcome find. 
 And Harold deemed that all this friendship shown, 
 Might yet, tho' feebly, for the past atone ; 
 For years of exile, many a bitter hour, 
 Since first his kinsmen felt the Norman's power. 
 Duke William seemed in every act so just, 
 That his fair words gained all the Saxon's trust. 
 
 From Norway's shores the mighty Normans came ; 
 At first so rude, nor laws nor arts could tame. 
 The Danes and Saxons kindred nations were, 
 And with the Normans oft did rapine share. 
 Their daring souls were fierce as northern blasts. 
 Which swept their homes around those icy coasts : 
 
12 
 
 Stern ocean kings, the scourges of the earth, 
 
 Their conqu'ring legions from the gloomy north, 
 
 In sudden fury broke o'er southern climes, 
 
 And filled with terror those disastrous tunes ; 
 
 Barbarian forms, inured to e/ery ^rind. 
 
 In darkest peril enterprise they found ; 
 
 They smote, they vanquished, both on land and wave. 
 
 Nor mercy sought, nor quarter claimed nor gave. 
 
 From island haunts far in the northern sea, 
 
 Those cruel corsairs, ever wandering free. 
 
 Thro' reahns remote spread moummg and despair. 
 
 And conquests mado in regions rich and fair. 
 
 Along the Seine their bloody course had been. 
 
 With fire and sword 'mid many a fertile scene. 
 
 Still on they pressed, a savage, fearless band. 
 
 And, all subduing, seized that glorious land. 
 
 Thro' years of war, amidst a ruined race, 
 
 Their ruthless deeds historians still may trace. 
 
 East, west, and north, around the Gallic shore. 
 
 Their pirate-flag and blood-stained arms they bore. 
 
 The hamlet burned, the fruitful vale despoiled. 
 
 Blest homes of peace, where humble hope had toiled ; 
 
 Long bondage, tears, wild fury and alarms, 
 
 Attested still the progress of their arms ; 
 
 All fled, or perished where theh* wrath assailed. 
 
 Nor strong defence against such foes prevailed. 
 
 Fair cities sacked, proud works of ages gone, 
 
 In ruins lay and nations were undone. 
 
 They cease from slaughter and their booty seize, 
 
 Place it in ships and slacken to the breeze : 
 
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 From land they put and court the rising gale, 
 With dipping oar and feeble fluttering sail. 
 Thro' midnight hours o'er pathless seaa they fly, 
 And guide their barks by twinklmg stars on high. 
 Oft they return, return but to renew 
 Dread scenes of ravage, spoil and carnage too. 
 
 And now full nigh two hundred years had fled, 
 O'er living generations and the dead, 
 Smce RoUo's fleet before fair Rouen rode, 
 Wliere the great chief soon fixed his firm abode, 
 As mighty leader of a warlike band, 
 Which long he swayed with stem, supreme command. 
 Of matchless strength, a demi-god in war. 
 On many a shore he plundered near and far : 
 The main he ruled, where'er his bark rode free. 
 And that wild name was known on every sea. 
 Rouen he sought with a resistless force, 
 And paused at length, upon his bloody course. 
 That ancient spot, to fame and splendour grown. 
 In early times had scenes immortal known, 
 Ere fire and sword had laid the land in waste, 
 And marked the epochs of a fearful past. 
 Tho' his companions lawless force supplied. 
 They entered there, but not in martial pride : 
 A holy prelate gained the man of blood ; 
 His sacred voice the Northman's wrath withstood ; 
 He soft'ning influence on his mind did wield, 
 He from his fury did the city shield. 
 There Rollo reigned ; and thence, in earlier day, 
 By rapine, murder, spread his iron sway. 
 
14 
 
 Westward of this, nor from the sea remote, 
 Bayeux was biiilt, a place of ancient note. 
 Against that town soon Rollo marched in wrath. 
 And thro' that region spread the work of death. 
 The siege was formed and the assault prepared, 
 And Rollo's summons to the town declared ; 
 Which, disregarded by the hosts within. 
 The dread assault was ordered to begin. 
 Dark was the scene, and dark the fatal hour, 
 And fierce the onset of the Norman power. 
 A mighty chieftain, Berenger by name, 
 And long illustrious on the rdls of fame. 
 Holds chief command along the lofty walls, 
 And bravely dies before the city falls. 
 The furious Northmen quickly enter there, 
 And plunder, ravage, but the people spare. 
 The fallen chief is found among the dead, 
 'Neath heaps of slain, upon a bloody bed. 
 One child he left, had left upon that mom, 
 The cherished hope of love, of years forlorn : 
 Her youth, like flower upon a barren waste, 
 Was in those times of war and rapine cast : 
 Her mother slept, had died in early years, 
 But she remained to soothe her father's tears : 
 Popoea named. When Rollo sacked the town, 
 This prize he seized, and claimed it for his own. 
 With pagan rites he made her then his bride, 
 A star 'mid storms, to better hopes a guide. 
 From this fair Christian whom he loved and wed, 
 There sprung a son and daughter to his bed : 
 
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 WiUiam and Gerloc were the names thej bore : 
 She died in youth ; but he lived to restore 
 A brighter lustre to the sovereign power, 
 Which on him frowned in youth's all evil hour. 
 
 Great Rollo led his Avarlike legions on, 
 Thro' bloody paths of conquest and renown. 
 With Charles of France he soon a treaty made, 
 By which his power and wisdom were displayed, 
 And of his throne, the sure foundations laid. 
 St. Clair sur Epte was chosen for that act, 
 And there was formed that long and firm compact. 
 By which the Dukedom, Charles to Rollo gave. 
 And other lands, to gain a chief so brave. 
 With one fair daughter this great king was bless'd, 
 Giselle by name, of noblest gifts possess'd ; 
 Bright with rare beauty, hopes of youthful years. 
 Ere secret woe had dimmed her eyes with tears. 
 Victorious now o'er all that could oppose, 
 The warlike Norman wished for peace, repose ; 
 And then he sought to take Giselle to wife. 
 That thus allied, might end their fatal strife. 
 He promptly too, foreswore each pagan rite. 
 And on his soul there beamed a holier light : 
 A Christian ruler Rollo soon became. 
 And to his vassals did this change proclaim : 
 Thro' his dominions mse decrees he sent. 
 Which to his rule, both strength and glory lent: 
 Stern laws prevailed, wild rapine reigned no more, 
 And peace and order spread from shore to shore. 
 
16 
 
 in' 
 Til 
 
 Long had Popaea pass'd from Rollo's heart, 
 Whose words of scorn had caused her to depart. 
 Her son he loved, but cast the mother out, 
 To wander far on many a homeless route ; 
 With bruised heart, which life's last woe had found, 
 That proud, lost child of fallen race renowned. 
 The fair-haired daughter of a mightier line 
 Usurps her place, the heart she must resign : 
 And grief had worn Popaea's faded brow, 
 But Giselle lived and mourned in childless woe. 
 Rollo now trod the shadowy vale of life. 
 Long worn by years, by peril and by strife. 
 His warlike son had grown to mighty fame, 
 And shielded weU his mother's blighted name : 
 His glory came, but came, alas ! too late. 
 Not to adorn, but to avert her fate. 
 Thus time had pass'd ; Giselle, Popsea, died. 
 And the great Norman slumbered by their side. 
 
 William Longue Ep6e, Popaea's famous son, 
 By Rollo's will succeeded to the crown. 
 He swayed the sceptre with a monarch's hand. 
 And peace maintained throughout the Norman land ; 
 And foreign triumphs in his prosp'rous hour. 
 His arms achieved in aid of tottering power. 
 Louis of France, he placed upon the throne. 
 And Flanders' Earl did his protection own. 
 By treach'rous deed, the latter laid him low 
 In pride of life, by an assassin's blow ; 
 But vengeance came ; by mightier arm he fell, 
 Long, long resolved, fulfilled at last too well. 
 
17 
 
 Richard his son succeeded him and reigned, 
 His power vast and sternly too maintained. 
 This valiant prince, Sans Peur, was proudly styled, 
 In war too fierce and oft to wrong beguiled. 
 First he espoused, and mournful was her fate, 
 Agnes the Fair, the child of Hugh the Great ;— 
 That Count of Paris who proud monarchs swayed, 
 Chief of a Une by nations long obeyed. 
 This Agnes died in sorrow and despair ; 
 No child she left,— to Normandy no heir. 
 Then a young maid of humble birth he loved, 
 Gonor of Arques, and she the mother proved 
 Of sons and daughters, dynasties renowned, 
 By famous ueeds, in after ages crowned, 
 And these among, Proud Emma may be found : 
 Emma the Queen of Ethelred became, 
 Mother of him whom men Confessor name. 
 Gonor he made in course of time, his bride. 
 And to their offspring legal rights supplied ; 
 He glorious lived, in peace of God he died. 
 ^ Then reigned Duke Richard, second of that name, 
 Son of Sans Pern-, and Prmce of warlike fame. 
 He with the Saxons and with others warred, 
 And, when victorious, nobly them he spared. 
 Him his son Richard followed as of right ; 
 But soon he passed intc the dreamless night, 
 Of death's long sleep, which comes upon us all,— 
 Our earthly doom since Adam's fault and fall. 
 Long it was bruited thro' the Norman land. 
 Thai this fair Prince died by a brother's hand : 
 
18 
 
 A foul, dark deed of poison and despair, 
 That one proud man the kingdom then might share. 
 When he was gone, that brother reigned instead, 
 Robert the Great, well known for many a deed 
 That gave far glory to his name and race, 
 Tho' some there were, my page Avill not retrace. 
 His skill and valor shone in deeds of war, 
 Which oft he waged in Christian lands afar : 
 In these renowned, and also great in peace. 
 Much di 1 his rule tho Norman state increase ; 
 For this great Prince, whose celebrated court 
 To fall'n sov'reigns proved a sure report. 
 Employed his sword the feeble to restore, 
 And his proud arms to France and Flanders bore. 
 Baldwin the Fourth, he placed upon his throne, 
 And tho like act for the French king had done. 
 As a reward for friendship thus displayed, 
 Henry of France, The Vexin all conveyed 
 To the proud Norman, who in war became, 
 Of his own time, the most illustrious name. 
 
 No^v at Falaise a royal castle stood. 
 Which thro' long years, despite time, war and flood, 
 A fortress' strength and strong defence maintained, 
 And the assaults of armies had sustained. 
 There Robert oft in expeditions dwelt. 
 And for that spot, a rare attachment felt. 
 From those proud towers a rich and varied view. 
 Of gardens, fields and groves of every hue. 
 Glowed in the beam, beneath the summer sky, 
 And fixed the thoughtful, long-enraptured eye ; 
 
 i 
 
19 
 
 While far beyond receding landscapes lay 
 
 In sweet repose, thro' the reful^^cnt day. 
 
 There by a stream which wound thro' distant vales, 
 
 Clothed in soft verdure, cooled by western gales, 
 
 'Mid woodland hills and sloping fields between. 
 
 And stretching far in many a rural scene, 
 
 A cottage stood, a poor man's home of peace, 
 
 Who by his hand still laboured to increase 
 
 What toil had won, and strove each weary day. 
 
 And anxious there pursued his humble way. 
 
 He had one daughter, gvovm. to woman's years. 
 
 Adorned with beauty, all that youth endears ; 
 
 Her parents' pride, their latest, only hope 
 
 Their age to bless and with its ills to cope. 
 
 It came t pass upon a summer's eve. 
 
 At that blest hour when peasants labor leave. 
 
 On the green bank, from vulgar view concealed, 
 
 In homely garb that lovely maiden kneeled : 
 
 Her daily task the virgin followed there, 
 
 While vesper-bells proclaimed the hour of prayer. 
 
 A warrior chief with hounds and huntsmen nigh, 
 
 Approached the spot and Herleve met his eye. 
 
 Tho' time and war from his strong heart had worn 
 
 The tameless ardor which its youth had borne. 
 
 He halted near that maid and winding stream 
 
 Which sweetly flowed beneath the evening beam ; 
 
 Spell-bound he gazed upon the matchless face. 
 
 Her radiant brow and form's unrivalled grace : 
 
 The damsel rose, and her obeisance made 
 
 To the great Prince ; a few brief words were said. 
 
20 
 
 Then Robert went, his stately castlo sought, 
 
 And there Ilerldve, in course of time, was brought. 
 
 Her lieart ho won : thro' long and baffled years, 
 
 He oft for her would shed atoning tears : 
 
 But from that lovo thus hapless and unblest, 
 
 A child was born, of dauntless soul possess'd. 
 
 That outcast son, the warlike father loved, 
 
 And to his court ho early was removed ; 
 
 In after days a Prince in war reno^vned, 
 
 High on the roll where earth's great names are found : 
 
 That monarch ho, whoso proud, immortal name. 
 
 Of England's Conqueror, fills the page of famo ; 
 
 Illustrious still thro' many an age and clime, 
 
 In present, past and so in future time. 
 
 Zeal for the Cross Duke Robert long had shared, 
 And to the East a pilgrimage prepared ; 
 But ere he went ho caused Him to be brought, 
 And his great nobles, anxiously besought, 
 That as his heir, this child they would obey. 
 And made them swear allegiance to his sway : 
 He them implored his heritage to shield. 
 And to his cause, their arms and counsel yield. 
 The father died in some far Eastern land ; 
 Then the young Vrilliam with a warrior's hand, 
 The sceptre seized, and claimed the Norman throne, 
 And forced the nobles doubtful rights to o^vn. 
 'Mid many a peril he to manhood grew, 
 And dark the paths his boyhood did p'xrsue : 
 Powerful rivals were his keenest foes. 
 And warlike chieftains did his rule oppose: 
 
21 
 
 With iron nrm, as chief of that ;^reat land, 
 
 lie smote them all aiul ruleil Mitii stern command. 
 
 This famous Prince, those recreant foes subdued, 
 The fair Matilda as fond lover woo'd : 
 His cousin she, for peerless beauty famed, 
 Tho' she hath been for deeds of vengeance blamed ; 
 Count Baldwin's daughter, he who proudly reigned 
 U'er fertile Flanders, and renown obtained. 
 At Eu's cathedral, blessings wore pronounced, 
 And by great feasts these nuptials were announced. 
 This act was long by Pope and Priest withstood, 
 As not allowed between close tics of blood ; 
 And when proclaimed, an interdict was laid 
 Upon the realm, and priestly wrath displayed, 
 Till wise Lanfranc unfailing friendship proved, 
 And holy censures caused to be removed ; 
 For WiUiam ne'er would just obedience yield, 
 But stood resolved his wife and throne to shield. 
 At Rouen then Duke William held his coui-t, 
 And thither Harold proudly did escort ; 
 There Princes, Prelates, Warriors had resort. 
 This royal abode could boast with truth and pride, 
 Of valiant knights in fields of honor tried ; 
 Of prelates grave who sacred charges filled, 
 And scholars learn'd, in lore of ages skilled ; 
 And there were Dames of noble, princely birth, 
 And famed aUke for beauty and for worth. 
 That gorgeous palace shone on many a night. 
 Like fairy scene illumed with magic light : 
 
I>f 
 
 22 
 
 Now at this court the Saxon noMog sliarcd 
 
 A welcome {greeting, well for them prepared. 
 
 Matilda still, as lovely as the morn, 
 
 Great William's wife, to fame and grandeur horn, 
 
 With matchless beauty l)eamiiig from her face. 
 
 Shed o'er those scenes a pure and courtly grace : 
 
 A royal Avill her gestures each displayed. 
 
 While smiling words her loftier hopes betrayed ; 
 
 For not indifterent to her female mind. 
 
 Were the great schemes Duke William had designed. 
 
 There Judith too, in radiant beauty l)eamed, 
 
 And each surpassing, sa^■() Matilda, seemed. 
 
 Her soft, dark eye, her calm, seh^-conscious air. 
 
 Told of crushed hopes, of deep and long despair. 
 
 To greet her sister she to Rouen came ; 
 
 Their hearts were one, tho' not their hopes the same. 
 
 To Harold's brother Tostig she was wed, 
 
 And life of woe that lovely Princess led. 
 
 Tostig then ruled the far Northumbrian land, 
 
 With tyrant sway and a rapacious hand : 
 
 Her husband's perils Ion- had Judith shared., 
 
 And for dark future was her soul prepared. 
 
 There too was Robert, William's first-bom son, 
 
 Wild Rufus too, whose youth had scarce begun ; 
 
 And Adelize, young, lovely and sedate, 
 
 ^- ■ 030 -'l.-imless name is linked with Harold's fate. 
 
 •<iiu ruany more this humble page might name, 
 
 "VV'^U' then adorued that court of knightly fame : 
 
 How each essayed, e'en female grace and art. 
 
 Their guests to please and wm Prince Harold's heart. 
 
26 
 
 My song might tell ; but the far stream of fato 
 Bearti darkly on, and mightier scones await. 
 Amid rejoicings, spkMulors of that court, 
 Fast tied tho hours and passing seemed too short. 
 His heart confiding, free from anxious thought, 
 And that distrust tho future too well taught, 
 Prince Harold lingered with each Saxon knight. 
 Thro' joy by day and revelry by night. 
 The Norman Prince and his imperial l)ride, 
 Their guests to win, had every art employed : 
 Charms of friendship, blandishments of power, 
 Their path beset and freely on them shower. 
 Days thus had gone and they were feasting still, 
 While William sought each hour with joy to fill. 
 Oft Harold now his exiled brother sought, 
 And Ilaco too, by early sorrow taught ; 
 The child of Sweyn the outlaw long undone, 
 Of great Earl Godwin the dishonored son. 
 There to these kinsmen, plain as light of day. 
 Appeared the dangers strewed in Harold's way ; 
 And they forewarned, implored him to beware 
 Of the great Norman and each hidden snare 
 Which his dark wiles upon his path had spread. 
 To sway him living, or secure him dead ; 
 That heedless then within the reach he stood. 
 Of watchful foe of strange and savage mood, 
 Who would, like tiger, stealth and treachery bring, 
 To aid his fury in the deadly spring : 
 But Harold's high and valiant spirit bore 
 Firm faith and courage to the Noi-man shore : 
 
24 
 
 His hero's soul disdained to lend belief 
 In foul designs from so renowned a chief: 
 He nor suspicion, nor a fear had known, — 
 His mind too great, distrustful thoughts to own : 
 These words of Ulf, of Haco, he reproved, 
 And like a god, thro' all these perils moved. 
 
 The first bright days of summer now were gone, 
 And o'er the earth a richer glory shone : 
 The waving fields, the forest and the stream 
 Glowing with splendour of the golden beam ; 
 The fragrant leaf on foliage-laden trees, 
 Breathing wild odors to the wand'ring breeze ; 
 The teeming earth, the perfume of the flowers, 
 The songs of birds awakening with the hours 
 That bring the da^vn to gild the Eastern skies ; 
 And those sad notes, which, when the day-beam dies. 
 Thro' sacred twilight, sweet and undefiled, 
 Sing of lost hopes so rapturously wild, 
 They touch the soul like life's last dream of love, 
 Or raise the thoughts to holier worlds above ; — 
 All lent enchantment to that radiant land, 
 Fertile and blest by nature's bounteous hand. 
 Rich, sweeping vales, in summer hues arrayed, 
 Fair, smiling landscapes, fruitful toil displayed ; 
 Churches and spires appeared in distant view, 
 O'er regions wide where wealth and cities giew ; 
 And feudal towers by many a mount arose, 
 For strong defence against relentless foes ; 
 There castles old and lofty mansions stood, 
 The stately homes of men of Norman blood, 
 
25 
 
 Who hved in splendor, swayed with high commaud 
 O'er all the borders of that miglity land : 
 Along the banks of rivers winding far, 
 Commerce had spread, despite the rage of war : 
 Well tilled the soil and fostered every art 
 With the strong impulse labor doth impart : 
 'Twas at this time that science, letters spread, 
 And o'er that realm a soft'ning influence shed'. 
 The Church had grown beneath that sov'reign sway, 
 And blest the people with a brighter day. 
 So now all glorious in that distant time. 
 Shone this far-spreading and majestic chme,— 
 Another England growing by the deep, 
 Where some of Albion's great ancestors sleep. 
 The Celt, the Roman, Frank, were blended there. 
 Worn wrecks of nations wasted by despair ; 
 And o'er them all now ruled the Norman rice. 
 Whose footsteps yet in wonder we may trace,^ 
 The lasting impress man will ne'er efface : 
 Giants they were, for thoughts, for deeds renownM. 
 In after times with matchless glory crown'd. 
 
 Thus days had pass'd ; at Kouen they remained, 
 By royal welcome, courteous arts, detained ; 
 And William then did earnestly entreat 
 The Saxon Prince and nobles of his suite 
 Excursions thence thro' Normandy to make, 
 That gladly he would join them for his sake! 
 Soon all were ready, eager to depart, 
 Princes and courtiers, each with joyous heart. 
 
 
 
I; ;l 
 
 26 
 
 A tour was madn, the Norman their escort, 
 With warlike chieftains, nobles of his court. 
 In castle, abbey, fortress and in tora, 
 Harold was hailed as Prince of high renown ; 
 And famed abodes they saw upoii their way, 
 And sacred fanes, untouched by time's decay. 
 'Twere tedious here to trace the routes they went. 
 Or close to follow on such wand'rings bent : 
 Those days were passed in joyaunce and in glee, 
 In banquets, hunts and feats of chivalry. 
 
BOOK SECOND. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Brief sketch of Brittany .-Its position and some account of the Dukes of that 
 country, contemporaries of William of Normandy.-Hostility between the 
 Britons and Normans.-The enmity between the two reigning houses of these 
 powerful states.-Alain, Eudo, and Conan.-Cauee of the war between Wil- 
 liam and the latter stated.-Commcncement of the stniggle.-Harold and the 
 Saxon nobles join William in the campaign, and swear oaths of fealty to him 
 at Avranches.-Substance of the oath givon.-WiUiam joins the main army 
 on the River Coesnon.-Engagements briefly described.-Heroic conduct of 
 Harold, who rescues a largo body of the Normans from destruciion in the 
 sands of the Cofisnon.— Progress and termination of the campaign shortly 
 narrated.-Visit of William and Harold to Mont St. Michel. -Night-scene 
 between them doscribed.-The proposals of William, and the astonishment ol 
 Harold at William's disclosure of his views.-The Saxon comes under serious 
 promises and engagements to the Norman I'rinoe.-The following day they 
 return to Avranches, and thence they proceed onward to Bayeux, passing 
 through Granville, Coutances, St. Lo, and other towns.-Thelr arrival at 
 Bayeux, 
 
 Upon the frontiers of the Norman state, 
 A region lay, renowned from ancient date ; 
 Its natives rude, but great in martial fame, 
 In times remote, Armoricans by name. 
 Both to their country and their princes true, 
 Since ages gone, their varied fortunes grew. 
 By Romans, Franks, and long by Britons held, 
 These last by arms had sov'reign sway upheld. 
 
28 
 
 Dark realm of storms which lash its western shore, 
 Far round the coast fierce ocean tempests roar, 
 And Brittany, the later name it bore. 
 Great streams, high mountains and far-stretching plains. 
 And cities rich in all that toil sustains ;— • 
 Its limits changing in the turns of war. 
 Now closing near, and then receding far ;— 
 Annals defaced, oft stained by many a crime. 
 Had marked that land thro' a long lapse of time. 
 From Albion's isle the earlier Britons came. 
 And here had found a country and a home ;— 
 A kingdom formed, had made efficient laws. 
 And their career had won the worid's applause. 
 Since that proud day when Rollo at St. Clair, 
 His claim enforced to many a region fair ; 
 And Charies of France such vast concessions made, 
 That the dark wave of conquest might be stayed, 
 A struggle long and bloody had ensued. 
 Between the Britons, ever unsubdued. 
 And the dread Northmen, whose rapacious power 
 Their shores had sought in its triumphant hour : 
 Still on their frontier wasting contests rose. 
 And years had passed, and passing, left them foes. 
 The Ducal chiefs who long that sceptre swayed, 
 Tho' oft to deeds of wrath and wrong betrayed, 
 Were famous warriors, tried on many a field. 
 And ne'er would fealty to the Norman yield. 
 Thro' female line, they could their lineage trace, 
 In far descent from RoUo's sov'reign race ; 
 
29 
 
 And tho' those proud and warlike Princes stood 
 
 In close relations by the ties of blood, 
 
 They had, as rivals, waged revengeful war, 
 
 And thro' dark times did fierce resentment share. 
 
 William and Conan in ambition vied, 
 
 To which deep hate its venom all supplied : 
 
 For when Duke Kobert with a noble band, 
 
 As pilgrim journeyed to the Holy Land, 
 
 Fair Herl6ve's child, of father's care bereft, 
 
 With Duke Alain of Brittany was left. 
 
 Prince Robert died : the child he did retain, 
 
 And sought by fraud his sceptre to obtain: 
 
 Faithless he proved to Robert's youthful heir, 
 
 And vassals roused to wage rebellious war. 
 
 At Val des Dunes, last conflict and defeat 
 
 Young WiUiam's foes, at length, were doomed to meet. 
 
 Ere this, Alain had perished, it is said. 
 
 By Norman hand which many a wrong repaid. 
 
 An only son, when he was gone, remained, 
 
 Conan his name, who future glory gained : 
 
 By birth the heir to Brittany's great throne, 
 
 These sov'reign rights his kinsmen did disown. 
 
 Eudo his uncle was his guardian named. 
 
 But fell ambition had his mind inflamed : 
 
 This sacred trust the traitor soon betrayed. 
 
 And 'gamst his charge had foul intent displayed. 
 
 To man's estate the youthful Conan grew, 
 
 And by his arms this treach'rous Prince o'erthrew. 
 
 In his designs tho' Eudo thus had failed. 
 
 He on Duke William by false words prevailed, 
 
30 
 
 Aggressive war to wage against the land 
 Which Conan ruled with stem and just command 
 Thenceforth the Norman had irruptions made, 
 And leagues around in ruin then were laid. 
 
 In wrath Duke Conan promptly took the field, 
 These foes to quell who thus to arms appealed ; 
 And to the limits of their rival lands. 
 This patriot Prince soon led his hostile bands. 
 Beyond the stream called Coesnon in the west, 
 Upon the Britons the invaders press'd. 
 But these assailed, o'erthrown with dire defeat, 
 Were routed, slaughtered in forlorn retreat : 
 Onward advancmg, Conan's legions still 
 With dread alarms did all that region fill. 
 William aroused, and threatened from afar. 
 Fresh troops had levied for that distant war : 
 His princely vassals gave him willing aid. 
 And in his cause their martial zeal displayed : 
 Heroic levies, with allegiance true. 
 And valiant chieftains, to his standard flew. 
 
 In this campaign the Saxon nobles joined, 
 With ardor bold, and posts of honor found ; 
 Their daring spirits loved the pomp of war, 
 And longed the rapture of the strife to share : 
 The voice of fame was music to the ear, 
 The souls of men w lo held renown so dear. 
 By their adhesion to the Norman cause. 
 They won from William favor and applause. 
 That subtle Prince, with keen, perfidious mind, 
 By feudal oath, those chieftains sought to bind. 
 
31 
 
 At fair Avranchea a court of arms was held, 
 Whose stately forms in splendor far excelled 
 The solemn pageants of each former scene, 
 Where honored knighthood oft conferred had been. 
 ' Brothers in Arms ' that league for life was called, 
 And in those rights here Harold was installed. 
 
 " From this day forth to thee I fealty bear. 
 While I have life ; firm faith to thee I swear ; 
 Thro' weal, thro' woe, I pledge my word to thee, 
 As loyal knight ; so be thou true to me." 
 
 To the great chief these formal words addressed, 
 Of that allegiance, all the truth expressed. 
 There princely nobles, Normans, Saxons too, 
 But chiefly Harold, signal notice drew. 
 In that proud throng of gay, illustrious men. 
 Of warlike chieftains, all assembled then. 
 This loyal oath they swore upon that day, 
 'Mid all the courtly, chivalrous array, 
 Which in those times, the loftiest rank might claim 
 In courts of arms, when joined with martial fame. 
 Again had Harold fatally displayed 
 That trust too blind, all cruelly betrayed : 
 He step by step, thro' each ill-fated hour, 
 Bec?jne sure victim to the Norman's power : 
 Tho' little import oath of fealty bore. 
 Yet knightly faith he thus to William swore ; 
 An act unseemly in a Prince so great. 
 The future guardian of proud England's fate. 
 
 The Norman Prince, for warlike deeds prepared, 
 With re-inforcements to the field repaired. 
 
82 
 
 The Britons posted on the Coesnon's banks, 
 Await the conflict with embattled ranks. 
 Those rival states that river did divide, 
 And by it long their frontiers did abide. 
 Near the right bank the Norman legions halt. 
 Where all are marshalled for the dread assault. 
 There of the whole, elite of all the land, 
 The warlike WilUam takes supreme command. 
 In three divisions he his force divides, 
 And both the wings to vet'ran skill confides. 
 The left despatched to pass the stream above, 
 Is on that flank to make decisive move ; 
 The other ordered to cross o'er below, 
 Is on the right ^x) strike a fatal blow. 
 Himself the centre as reserve obeys. 
 Where all his skill and foresight he displays. 
 With hun was Harold and each Saxon knight, 
 All prompt to act, to swell the coming fight. 
 
 The ebbing tide in Coesnon's tranquil stream, 
 Vast shores hath left where sands of ocean gleam : 
 The slug^sh channel in its shallow course, 
 Yields passage easy to the Norman force. 
 With rapid march the adverse strand they reach. 
 And stand arrayed upon the winding beach. 
 In ranks they form, to each assault advance, 
 With sword, with shield and the unerring lance. 
 Hugh d'Avranches, a chief of great command, 
 A famous soldier of the Norman land, 
 With sword of flame and seldom known to halt. 
 Leads one division to the dread assault ; 
 
33 
 
 While great Montgomm'rie, long renowned in war, 
 Did to the left with all his force repair. 
 With dauntless valor, Conan doth oppose 
 Compact battalions to these mighty foes : 
 Firmly he holds the river's adverse bank, 
 In front resists, and smites on either flank. 
 Then hand to hand, in conflict's close array, 
 Those chiefs of fame their warlike skill display. 
 Here valiant Britons the high banks defend. 
 There in pursuit some on the shore descend ; 
 D'Avranches here urges each advance, attack. 
 While Conan there repels and hurls them back : 
 They join the combat, furious charge the foe, 
 Where battle rages on the beach below. 
 Along the bank on the far-stretching shore, 
 The carnage deepens in that wild uproar. 
 The valiant Normans each "defence assail. 
 But all their fury can o'er none prevail. 
 For Conan's troops, with strong entrenchments round, 
 By matchless valor firmly keep their ground. 
 And bright the fame which on that field they won, 
 Tho' on this page their deeds may not be shewn ; 
 Since many a chieftain, warrmg on that day. 
 Thro' darker hour will mightier deeds display. 
 
 In slow retreat, at length the Normans yield, 
 Then in disorder hurry o'er the field : 
 Pursued and slaughtered, welt'ring in their gore, 
 Their broken ranks the foe resist no more. 
 O'er William's host destruction now ikpends. 
 For there a flat before them wide extends ; 
 
84 
 
 And soon these troops, involved in treach'rous sands, 
 The charge sustain of Conan's furious bands: 
 They turn, they struggle, show their wrath in vain, 
 Where bogs and quagmires stretch far o'er the plain; 
 Whole squadrons sink and thousands too are slain. 
 
 While this repulse is on the right sustained, 
 Upon the left the Britons still maintained 
 Firm ground despite the fury of the foe, 
 And rank on rank had headlong hurled below. 
 Tho' fierce assault Montgomm'rie there had made, 
 Tho' valiant deeds his Normans had displayed, 
 By dauntless arms, heroic valor met, 
 They fled repulsed in bloody, dire defeat. 
 To then- support Dul-e William had repaired. 
 With strong reserve, and all their peril shared. 
 A force he left to Harold's sure command, 
 With Norman knights, and his own Saxon band, 
 D'Avranches to aid, should he too fail to gain 
 Complete success, or a defeat sustain. 
 This chief stiU struggles 'gainst o'erwhelming force, 
 While in the sands, both infantry and horse 
 Are deep involved, and wild disorder grows. 
 Before the steel of his avenging foes. 
 Prince Harold eager, hastens to relieve. 
 Ere aU the Britons their entrenchments leave ; 
 And down the bank, from the opposing height^. 
 Prompt to the rescue rush the Saxon knights. 
 Brave Normans follow; quick the stream passed o'er, 
 They fiercely charge along that blood-stained shore. 
 
35 
 
 Great Harold leads thorn through that fatal scene, 
 And ne'er mo-e dreadful in grim war had been. 
 Like fiery bolt descending from the cloud, 
 Or the first wave of ocean's tidal flood, 
 Or the fell sweep of the Sirocco's breath, 
 He hurls his squadrons on the ranks of death. 
 His mighty arm spreads carnage on his path ; 
 The Britons halt, recoil before his wrath. 
 The struggling Normans, soon the Saxon's care, 
 Were rescued, saved, tho' many perished there. 
 These shattered forces, Harold at their head. 
 Quick rallying now agairst the foe were led. 
 The bloody conflict, slaughter on that shore. 
 Left heaps of dead 'mid crinson pools of gore. 
 To theu* defences fast the Britons fled. 
 Leaving to fate their dying and the dead. 
 
 The fiery Norman with reserves had sought 
 The fatal spot where great Montgomm'rie fought, 
 Then rallying quick his routed forces there, 
 For fresh assault he fiercely doth prepare. 
 Onward he leads, dreid warriors by his side, 
 And backward rolls the battle's bloody tide. 
 The strife, the carnage on that death-strewed shore 
 Were ruthless, ghastly, such as ne'er before 
 Between the Normans and the Britons rose 
 Since they were warring as relentless foes. 
 While round the Norman thicker conflict grew, 
 A giant Briton, tow'ring to the view, 
 With gesture furious and with lurid eye. 
 His arm aloft, his battle-axe on high, 
 
86 
 
 Towara tho Princo, in search of deathless fame, 
 O'er heaps of slain on bounding charger came. 
 The Duke quick saw the Briton's fell intent 
 And to the combat all his fury bent. 
 Fierce in their wrath, and plunging o'er tho slain, 
 These mightv champions shook the gory plain : 
 In wild uproar, the conflict raged around. 
 And horses, men lay scattered o'er the gi-ound 
 Duke William's charger, rearing o'er the dead, 
 By mortal blow was htruck upon the head 
 From battle-axe that Briton wielded well. 
 And with his rider, reeling back ho fell. 
 But William's arm had dealt a deadlier blow, 
 Which dashed the giant to the sands below :' 
 Full on the helmet smote the iron mace, 
 Crushed in the skull, and mangled all the face : 
 One dying groan, then fled the vital breath. 
 And his dark spirit sought the realms of death. 
 One to the Duke, the Briton's charger brings. 
 He with a bound iato the saddle springs : 
 StiU on he leads amid the battle's roar. 
 To each defence they had assailed before ; 
 Then with a rush assailing from below, 
 The Britons break, retreat before the foe : 
 From each entrenchment falling to the rear. 
 That line along, defeated they appear. 
 
 The Norman now did all his force combine. 
 Which slow advanced in firm and dreadful line. 
 The Britons then a backward movement made, 
 Yet fierce resistance in retreat displayed ; 
 
3T 
 
 They halt, reform, confront their ruthless foes, 
 
 And to the onset dauntless arms oppose. 
 
 On sloping ground, proud ranks in deep array, 
 
 Await th' assailants near the close of day. 
 
 These warlike hosts in headlong fury meet, 
 
 Alternate vanquish and sustain defeat : 
 
 The valiant Conan, young yet skilled in war, 
 
 Bounds o'er the field, each peril then to share : 
 
 Charges are made, fierce combats lost and won, 
 
 And each in turn, seems vanquish-jd and undone, 
 
 And Conan's charger bore him thro' the fray. 
 
 Where many a warrior fell upon that day : 
 
 His fiery courage, 'mid the battle's roar. 
 
 That Princely youth through scenes of carnage bore. 
 
 Inured to arms on many a bloody field. 
 
 To few did he in daring vn,lor yield ; 
 
 By few was he in strength of arm excelled ; 
 
 Nor in dread war was nobler chief beheld. 
 
 A distant page in this long lay will show 
 
 The mournful doom which laid young Conan low : 
 
 How early death eclipsed his splendid name. 
 
 And cut him off from hopes of brighter fame. 
 
 But slight advantage could the Normans claim, 
 Tho' great their deeds and high their martial fame. 
 Duke William, Harold foremost oft were seen 
 Where the worst storm of battle's shock had been. 
 In bloody conflicts, closely side by side, 
 These chiefs renowned did thro' the battle ride. 
 Borne on his barb, conspicuous to the sight. 
 The warlike Norman sought the thickest fifrht : 
 
88 
 
 WhUe Harold, eager, fierce and valiant too, 
 With mighty arm opposing hosts o'erthrew. 
 They smote in front, on flank, and in the rear, 
 And spread destruction thro' the ranks of war. 
 These men renowned, unmatched, unrivalled stood 
 In strength and valor on that field of blood, 
 But none would yield while there was hope or life, 
 So night, at length, descended on their strife. 
 Then slept those hosts beneath the midnight star, 
 While brightly blazed their bivouac fires afar. 
 The following mom they doubtful war renew, 
 Tho' famter now the wastmg contest grew. 
 Tho' changmg tactics prove their warhke skUI, 
 The fate of war is undecided still. 
 
 Weary in time both Normans, Britons grew ; 
 And peace those chiefs were eager to renew : ' 
 Faint waxed their strife, and then a truce ensued : 
 The contest ceased and prompt a league was made. 
 By It Duke WiUiam, Pontorson had gained, 
 And his possession long that town remained. 
 William and Harold in those times appeared 
 By cordial brotherhood yet more endeared : 
 And when no more the dm of battle rose. 
 Together oft those Princes sought repose ; 
 One tent they shared, in recreation jomed. 
 And rare could friendahip like to theirs be found : 
 Discourse they held, of youth and youthful days. 
 Of warlike deeds and bards' poetic lays : 
 O'er all the land had gone Prince Harold's fame, 
 And bright the halo round his mighty name ; 
 
89 
 
 Hia princely soul and matchless beauty won 
 The love of all, roused jealousy in none. 
 And still he lingered 'mid each joyous scene, 
 Tho' far too long his sojourn there had been ; 
 Yet signs he saw which warned him to beware, 
 To break from all that made him loiter there. 
 He pleadsj entreats, solicits day by day. 
 His leave to take and hasten on his way ; 
 And William yielding, yields but to betray ; 
 For unfulfilled were the great Norman's schemes, 
 Tho' still to Harold frank and free he seems. 
 But 'tis not thus the Saxon must depart ; 
 Dark hope concealed fills that ambitious heart. 
 Hence he proposed, that joined by many more, 
 He should escort him to the Northern shore. 
 Whence Harold's sail should seek his native land, 
 And bid adieu to that ill-fated strand. 
 'Twas soon agreed that journey should be made, 
 With Norman guards and chiefs of highest grade. 
 The camp they leave, and all the toils of war, 
 And travel on and mutual friendship share : 
 The fair Avranches, a town of ancient name, 
 They joyful reach, and there a halt proclaim. 
 
 Near to Avranches and upward to the skies, 
 The lonely heights of Mont St. Michel rise : 
 That rocky isle in Cancal'a gloomy bay. 
 Vast o'er the deep thro' many a vanished day, 
 Had long withstood the waste of Earth's decay. 
 Two thousand years of sunshine and of storm 
 Had not impaired its grand and mystic form: 
 

 40 
 
 There first the Druid, then the Roman taught 
 
 Their sacred rites, with pagan error fraught : 
 
 By time, by conquest these were swept away, 
 
 To be replaced by lights of brighter day. 
 
 There at that time and from a distant age, 
 
 An Abbey rose, abode of many a sage : 
 
 There royal pilgrims, hermits sought repose, 
 
 And at its shrme had breathed immortal woes : 
 
 Around that fane, traditions dim and old 
 
 Dark tales had spread, this page may not unfold. 
 
 Upon those heights that sacred structure stood. 
 
 And midway down, long known for deeds of blood 
 
 In later times, a dismal dungeon frowned, 
 
 Where noble victims broken hearts had found : 
 
 There perished youth, the beautiful, the brave ; 
 
 There laureUed names had found the maniac's grave ; 
 
 There lonely grief, thro' wild despair by day, 
 
 And night's pale dreams, had worn life's hopes away. 
 
 That Abbey still in ruined grandeur stands. 
 
 High o'er that scene, long famed in distant lands, 
 
 And from its walls, so far as eye can see, 
 
 Lie broad to view the realms of Normandy; 
 
 While more remote, by mountain and o'er plain, 
 
 Rise the proud homes of Brittany and Maine ; 
 
 And far to sea and scattered, tho' in sight, 
 
 Are smaller isles of less imposmg height. 
 
 The vap'iy clouds which often gather there, 
 
 Give to that region a mysterious au* 
 
 Of nameless gloom, oft heightened by the roar 
 
 Of ocean's wrath upon that sterile shore. 
 
41 
 
 That sacred spot had claimed Duke William's care, 
 Who wisely sought its splendor to repair. 
 An Abbd learned he named some years before, 
 Whose rigid rule was promptly to restore 
 Religious order to these priestly men, 
 Who in by-paths too far had wandered then. 
 Roget the name that famous Abb^ bore. 
 Of noble birth, of deep and varied lore. 
 
 Reposing thus so near that mountain isle, 
 A visit there the Duke proposed the while ; 
 Strange scene it was, and curious to behold, 
 Of wide renown from troubled times of old : 
 Thence to survey, as far as reach of eye, 
 The wondrous regions which around it lay ; 
 To view that dungeon, kneel before that shrine, 
 One dark with woes, one breathmg hopes divine, 
 To Harolu seemed, in soft and thoughtful mood, 
 A place to see, with interest deep imbued. 
 'Twas early autumn, and the tinted skies 
 Stretched far on high their gorgeous canopies ; 
 And nature's glory, fadmg at that time, 
 With sadder hues o'erspread that ocean clime. 
 So the great Prince, with a confiding heart. 
 To William yields and straightway aey depart. 
 The Isle they reach as the last golden ray 
 Of cloudless sunset, marks the close of day. 
 The monks received them on that island shore. 
 And eager welcome to the Norman bore. 
 Prince Harold too was greeted as a guest 
 Of the great Duke, and as his friend addi>ess'd. 
 
42 
 
 The Abb6 walked the mighty chiefs between, 
 Who, in ascending, lingered o'er that scene. 
 Some gathered round, some followed close behind, 
 As up the mountain still their steps inclined. 
 Slowly they gained the vast and rocky height, 
 Where they were both besought to pass the ni^t. 
 The Dukes comply and cheerfully prepare 
 For sober diet, and the vesper prayer. 
 Of frugal cheer they sparingly partake. 
 And hours are passed in grave and friendly talk. 
 
 Now on the summit, round the mountain's brow. 
 And o'er the waves which laved the rocks below, ' 
 A pathway led along the dizzy height, 
 A winding way recedmg from the sight. 
 Hewn in the rock, unworn it still appears, 
 Tho' trod by footsteps of a thousand years. 
 In early days Duke William there had been; 
 His eye had dwelt upon that wondrous scene', 
 Ere youth's unclouded summer suns had set, 
 Now gone for him, tho' weU remembered yet. 
 Alone those chiefs went forth at solemn hour. 
 Along that path until they reached a tower, ' 
 An ancient tower, upon the rocky steep. 
 And from far ages looking o'er the deep : 
 Around its basement many a fragment lay, 
 For time had worn its strong defence away. 
 There they sat down in dusky shades of night, 
 
 And Harold musing gazed upon that sight. 
 All earth was still, nor cloud in the far skies 
 WhUe lingering there, they saw the moon arL, 
 
43 
 
 And o'er the worfd diOise her tender ray, 
 Beneath whose light old, slumb'ring ocean lay; 
 The sighing winds were sinking to their sleep, 
 Lulled in soft cradles of the silveiy deep ; 
 . The wand'ring waves dashed on the rocks no more, 
 But broke m murmurs round the sea-beat shore; 
 Bright twinkling stars were sinking in the west, 
 Those sUent worlds where men have hoped for rest: 
 And like the splendor of some Eastern clime, 
 A soft repose hung o'er that scene sublime ; 
 There, 'mid the silence of that tranquil hour, 
 When dim o'er all dwelt night's mysterious power, 
 Great William sat, with anxious thought oppressed, 
 And thus at length Prince Harold he addressed : 
 
 " Harold, my guest, nor less my friend thou art, 
 And ere thou goest, to thee I would impart 
 A solemn secret which affects our fate ; 
 One thou shouldst know before it prove too late : 
 'Tween us henceforth a lasting league should be ; 
 In thee I trust ; place thou thy faith m me. 
 When Edward sojourned at the Norman court, 
 His home selected for a long resort. 
 Oft he declared (and then his thoughts were free) 
 That should he e'er his native country see. 
 And gain that throne which then so distant seemed, 
 Though of that throne by day and night he dreamed. 
 He would remember the great debt he bore 
 To me his friend,— his friend and something more : 
 
 B 
 
44 
 
 ipllil 
 
 ill 
 
 And oft he spoke of the great claims I'd won 
 To his regard for acts of kmdness done. 
 And later too, perchance thou art aware, 
 He has proclaimed that I should be his heir: 
 He his affection at his court displayed. 
 And me assured that his decree was made ; 
 That feeble Edgar, though the next to reign, 
 Could ne'er the sceptre of your kings maintain 
 O'er races proud, divided and too free. 
 And hence his crown must soon devolve on me. 
 That great event may now be drawing nigh ; 
 Be frank with me ; can I on thee rely ?" 
 
 As the great Norman did these hopes declare. 
 Each fatal word feU cold on Harold's ear: 
 Regret, surprise, amazement and dismay 
 Did each in turn the hero's spirit sway. 
 King Edward's warmng smote upon his heart, 
 And those forebodings Ulf would oft impart. 
 With vivid light now flashed upon his view 
 The Norman's guile, all then, alas ! too true ! 
 To such demand what answer could he make ? 
 What path was near which he could safely tuVe ? 
 'Twero vain, he deemed, consent now to refuse. 
 And yet too base, a traitor's course to chose. 
 Assent withheld, a dungeon did await 
 Him thus entrapped,-perchance a darker fate. 
 So weU Duke William had each thought concealed: 
 That not till now was this great hope revealed, 
 When he had made him famous thro' the land, 
 And that night's meeting carefully had plann'd ; 
 
45 
 
 Before a crime he would not now recede, 
 Nor fail such scheme to crown with cruel deed. 
 Could he consent and thus his life enthral, 
 Or could he later such great pledge recall ? 
 Still for his brother did the Saxon fear. 
 That brother loved, and Haco held so dear. 
 Thus for himself and still for time to gain. 
 And for these kinsmen then" release obtain. 
 He cahnly spoke, but spoke with falt'ring thought, 
 And by these words a weak evasion sought : 
 " An oath of fealty I to thee have sworn ; 
 And wHl repeat the pledge which it hath borne, 
 In words, in form, thou mayst from me command. 
 To make that promise pubUc through the land. 
 Beyond that oath I must not, dare not go. 
 Nor closer alhance with a Norman show : 
 To that extend my friendship I'll declare,— 
 To that extent thy plans and hopes I share. 
 To promise more would be a crime in me ; 
 And more to ask would be a fault m thee." 
 The Norman Duke intently Harold eyed, 
 And then to him thus artfully replied : 
 
 " My noble Harold, that would be no more 
 Than the knight's oath thy chieftains freely swore. 
 If to that oath, we should another add, 
 J'hat thou my daughter Adelize wouldst wed. 
 And let thy sister be b-^trothed by me 
 To some great noble of supreme degree : 
 And promise further, in most sacred form, 
 (This great compact and union to confirm,) 
 
 MP 
 
46 
 
 Thou wouldst receive me on the English shore, 
 
 And aid my cause when Edward is no more :— 
 
 This would be just, would firmly us unite, 
 
 Success secure by our resistless might ; 
 
 This from our path each peril would efface, 
 
 And save from war thy great and cherished race : 
 
 For my resolve is to achieve my aim, 
 
 To gain that throne, or leave a deathless name. 
 
 This I'll pursue, from every fear exempt, 
 
 In this prevail, or die in the attempt. 
 
 On this reflect, and let thine answer be. 
 
 For England, hope, for union too with me." 
 
 Long Harold mused ; when he that saence broke. 
 All calmly thus the Norman he bespoke : 
 " Prmce, if adding to the oath I swore, 
 I would declare, when Edward is no more. 
 Thy claims in council I will not oppose, 
 Should great debate about the crown arise ; 
 And if their king the nation should elect. 
 Free from my influence, thee they may select ; 
 And should their choice then justly on thee fall, 
 Thoul't find me faithful, prompt at thy great call: 
 Would not such oath prove all thou couldst exact, 
 Could I do more, and not my word retract ? 
 But Edgar still is England's rightful heir, 
 And he succeeding I am free as air. 
 My knightly word do thou as frankly take, 
 Besides the oath I publicly will make : 
 If thus indeed thou wishest me to swear, 
 declare the day, the sanction, w.. ds, and where. 
 
4T 
 
 To thee alone I further promise give 
 
 Be this concealed while thou and I shall live 
 
 I'll yield thee truly all the aid I can, 
 
 And will suggest, may name thee as the man 
 
 Whom England should select, and thee aJone, 
 
 To fill with glory Edward's vacant throne. 
 
 I promise too, thy daughter to espouse, 
 
 As honored wife ; my sister to dispose 
 
 On some great noble of the Norman land, 
 
 Whom she shall wed at thy free choice, command. 
 
 Thus far I go to meet, great Prince, thy prayer, 
 
 Tho' late declared ; no more may Saxon dare." 
 
 The crafty Norman silent then remained, 
 Till mildly tiius to Harold he complained : 
 " Thou dost distrust me, tho' in candor still 
 
 To thee all freely I declare my will. 
 
 More friendly zeal I thought thou wouldst display, 
 
 And leave me grateful to a later day. 
 
 But as thou say'st, so let our compact be ; 
 
 Unfailing friend thou'lt ever find m me. 
 
 In my great council, summoned at Bayeux, 
 
 Thine oath pronounce and be its promise true !" 
 In William's projects Harold thus concurred, 
 
 Consentmg feebly and with heedless word. 
 
 Oh, better far had the great hero died, 
 
 Than act a part where honor could not guide. 
 
 Had he a high and firm resolve maintained, 
 
 And his great part of Saxon Prince sustained ; 
 
 Had he stem answer of a patriot made, 
 
 Nor at that hour such amrious fears betrayed ; 
 
48 
 
 i!» 
 
 fi;P 
 
 Had ho repelled with calm and cold rebuke 
 Th' insidious offerj of the Norman Duke, 
 That Prince perchance, all ruthless as ho proved, 
 Had been with awo at Harold's grandeur moved. 
 Perchance that oath which darkene^i his career, 
 Would not like shadow on his fame appear. 
 So weakness first invades the human heart, 
 And by degrees subdues each nobler part, ' 
 TiU all enthralled, we wander to and fro, ' 
 Lost in wild paths which end m nameless woe. 
 Some lofty minds resist the first approach, 
 And ne'er permit to enter, or encroach. 
 That which, admitted, makes its readv Tvay, 
 Clouds the bright soul and leads the heart a'stray. " 
 Yet proudest children of our race unblest 
 Are those, alaa ! of yielding souls possess'd : 
 Man's strength is weakness, and the loudest scorn 
 For those who faU oft meets a doom forlorn. 
 
 'Tis midnight now ; dark clouds shut out the moon. 
 And the soft glories of the sky are gone. 
 Silence reigns there ; the weird repose of night. 
 And gloomy shades invest that lonely height 
 Short tune they Unger'd, Harold's promise made, 
 While cold distrust they mutually betrayed. 
 The hour has come and they at length depart. 
 And future fate weighed heavy on each heart. 
 Soft sleep came not, the' its repose they sought • 
 For great then- cares and keen each anxious thought. 
 Wilham's vast schemes, with feU mtent ccmbmed 
 Now banished rest from his ambitious mind • 
 
49 
 
 Dread thoughts, deep anguish visit Harold's brain, 
 
 And hope's sweet sleep can never come again. 
 
 There, king and country, perils yet to come ;— 
 
 Hero, his own freedom and his kinsmen's doom : 
 
 His friendship, honor cruelly betrayed ; 
 
 Of all, himself he chiefly must upbraid. 
 The tints of dawn were in the Eastern skies 
 
 Ere sorrow's sleep had closed Prince Harold's eyes. 
 
 That day they leave and seek Avranches once more ; 
 
 Thence they depart toward another shore. 
 
 Tho' William sought the Saxon still to sway, 
 
 Yet slight discourse they held upon the way. 
 
 Encompassed now by a resistless power, 
 
 His sorrow deepened thro' each passing hour ; 
 
 But then he promised and evaded still, 
 
 With dubious accents and a wavering will. 
 
 Granville they reach, a fortress by the sea, 
 A spot as fair as eye of man may see : 
 The lofty heights which look upon the deep. 
 The waves of ocean from the city keep : 
 Known then it was, as it was famed of old. 
 For women beauteous and of matchless mould. 
 One night is passed, and then Coutances'they seek. 
 Which having gamed another halt they make. 
 Coutances had been a seat of Roman power 
 Of warlike strength in her triumphant hour. 
 There Flavian legions long and well withstood 
 Barbarian conquest both by land and flood. 
 There dwelt Helena, mourning by that shore 
 Constantius there the Caesar's laurel ^ore. 
 
M 
 
 *( 
 
 m 
 
 His brido, the scion of a humbler race, 
 Know from Constantius woman's last disgrace. 
 Sho must not share proud Rome's hnperial throne, 
 Yet from afar, of her immortal son, 
 Beheld the glory which thro' many an age 
 Hath lived and glowed on fame's illumined page; 
 And the renown of Constantiue the Great 
 Sheds hallowed light upon a mother's fate. 
 Thence to St. Lo they wend their easy way, 
 Which place was reached on the succeeding day. 
 At length the towers of dark-famed Bayeux 
 Rose to the sight, low m the distant view. 
 Still kindness, court'sy beam on William's brow 
 As they approach that scene of Harold's woe : 
 To that great castle all repair in state, 
 mere one foul deed soon douded Harold's fate: 
 Withm those walls aa prisoner he must stay, 
 While in suspense he waits the coming lay. 
 
BOOK THIRD. 
 
 AROUiMENT. 
 
 MooUn^ oftho National Council of Nonnandy at B«youx.-H.«>ld-« „,pe.r«nr* 
 boloro it.-Tho shrine and the oath.-llin dlHCovory of the deception of which 
 ho 18 made tho victim by the treachery of the Duko of Normandy ,-Hi« au- 
 guiHh of mi„d on beoomlnR awaro that ho had Hworn on holy rclIos.-TUo 
 adjournment of the Ouncil, and subHwiiunt interview between William and 
 Harold.-Speechc8 of both.-Tho bamjuot afterwards, and th« departure of 
 Harold for England. 
 
 In council now, thr " n-da of Normandy, 
 Proud chieftains nf a warlike chivalry; 
 Men of deep th.. nght and holy prelates too, 
 Assembled were, by edict, at Bayeux. 
 By promise hound, by force, came Harold there. 
 An awful oath, with solemn rights to swear. 
 To vast designs, to William's hopes of fame, 
 
 Harold thus lent the glory of his name : 
 
 Oh, fatal act ! accursed and baneful hour 
 Which gave the Saxon to the Norman's power: 
 He by that oath, to his great foe resigned 
 His freedom, honor and best hopes combined. 
 A deed of woe, of dire and dreadful note, 
 Which on his fame destructive treason brought ; 
 Thence England's fall— her doom thro' coming years. 
 The wrath of conquest, and a nation's tears. 
 In royal state, with naked sword in hand. 
 Begirt by ensigns of supreme commajidj 
 
 F 
 
il 
 
 52 
 
 High William sat : hard by, Prince Harold stood, 
 
 And with him warriors of the Saxon blood. 
 
 His brother Ulf, the nephew whom he loved, 
 
 Close by his side, that fatal act reproved. 
 
 These brothers oft along the Thames had strayed. 
 
 In their young days, and on its banks had played : 
 
 Eventful years their love had not impaired, 
 
 And hopeless now, each other's pangs they shared. 
 
 On William's right, and marked to public view, 
 
 Proud Odo sat, the Bishop of Bayeux : 
 
 A favored Prince— the same whose public crimes 
 
 His brother saw— rebuked in after times ; 
 
 And near his sov'reign, but below the throne. 
 
 In counsel deep, stood great Lanfranc alone. 
 
 Long held in honor by the Norman Prince, 
 
 Could one so good his sanction thus evince, 
 
 Of wrongful deed, perfidiously designed. 
 
 And darkly prompted by some daring mind ? 
 
 On loftier names 'tis needless here to dwell, 
 
 A later record will proclaim them well : 
 
 Men of renown and valor stood that day 
 
 Before their chief m proud and bright array ; 
 
 Sedate their mien, and calm each high-born eye. 
 
 Could they behold Prince Harold's agony, 
 
 The gloomy brow which spoke a sense of shame, 
 
 Of treason branded on a mighty name. 
 
 Without regret, perchance reproach, that he, 
 
 Of tyrant force, the victim thus should be ? 
 
 'Tis said that some had warned him when too late, 
 
 Of what they feared might prove his cruel fate : 
 
63 
 
 Yet Princes, Priests, and men ol" thought profound, 
 In odious deed, by William thus were bound ; 
 Nor could the glories which they proudly won, 
 Gild the foul wrong which perfidy had done. 
 
 Before the nobles of the land had yet 
 Within that hall in solemn council met, 
 The Duke had caused (oh, base and fatal thought !) 
 The bones of saints, in secret, to be brought. 
 There in a shrine, concealed by cloth of gold, 
 In many a fragment lay these relics cold : 
 Upon the cloth two caskets rare were placed. 
 On which some words mysterious could be traced. 
 These smaller shrines, adorned with precious stones, 
 As symbols stood, unsanctified with bones. 
 No sacred object met the Saxon's eye. 
 That could suspicion of a fraud supply ; 
 William's friendship— still more that solemn scene. 
 Those princely men, deception could not mean ; 
 And holy prelates who their sanction gave 
 To that assembly of the wise, the brave, 
 Would each declare, what all alike beheld, 
 That his assent by force was there compelled. 
 Constramed to swear, such oath could never bind ; 
 So Harold deemed, and sternly stood resigned. 
 
 All now assembled in long order stand, 
 And calmly there await that chief's command : 
 With courteous word to all the nobles nigh, 
 While round the hall he casts a monarch's eye. 
 Enjoined they are appomted seats to take, 
 That Harold might new oath of iealty make : 
 
;; ■) 
 
 64 
 
 These silent sat ; and then the Norman chief, 
 In accents mild, m words precise and brief. 
 From his proud seat, the breathless silence broke, 
 To Harold tmoied and thus impressive spoke : 
 " Illustrious Harold, Prince of far renown, 
 Our loyal friendship to the world is known ; 
 And in our presence all these Princes greet 
 Our coming here, thy fealty to repeat. 
 Warriors renowned, grave prelates, as you see, 
 Men known to fame and all of high degree, 
 By me convoked, with willing minds appear, 
 To do thee honor, and thy words to hear ; 
 A solemn oath which I will not decline, 
 Before our God and on that holy shrine. 
 With this intent thy promise I receive, 
 That Normans, Saxons henceforth may believe, 
 And ever prize, a league thus freely made, 
 That my just cause thou faithfully wilt aid. 
 So thou dost swear, when Edward is no more, 
 Thou wilt receive me on the English shore ; 
 Assist my purpose to ascend the throne, 
 Oppose all others and their claims disown : 
 Thus bound by oath, .ur interests still require, 
 (Bright hopes for thee such wishes now inspire,) 
 That thou to wife, young Adelize shouldst take. 
 And give thy sister to the choice I make." 
 
 Harold arose with gesture of surprise, 
 At oath so dread, now claimed without disguise : 
 With kindling anger he the Norman eyed. 
 And promptly then, though calmly, thus replied : 
 
65 
 
 " Illustrious Prince, such promise I have made 
 To you alone, ah ! would it were unsaid ! 
 That secret pledge I frankly must admit : 
 Yet thus to swear, can honor now permit ? 
 An oath so grave becomes alone the free, 
 And if constramed, can it as binding be ? 
 Your friendship, Prince, I would not here disown, 
 Nor yet your court'sy, nor your great renown ; 
 But to mv ountry and my king is due, 
 Ah' aith than can be claimed by you : 
 
 Anu i£ i-epugnance in this act I show, 
 'Tis to declare, protest, that duty now 
 This oath condemns, reproves such pledge of mine. 
 Which to foul treason would my life consign. 
 Compulsion, prmce, my actions may control, 
 But darkest dangers shall not sway my soul : 
 The mmd, at least, from all coercion free, 
 'Midst present perils all unstained shall be. 
 This protest hear, before these nobles made, 
 Mark well the words in which it io conveyed : — 
 Should this dread vow against me be invoked, 
 By this reserve all sanction stands revoked : 
 But thus betrayed, my promise I confirm, 
 And this great oath will swear in solemn form." 
 
 Thus Harold spoke. The Duke no answer made, 
 But tamed to Odo, with a look which said, — 
 Obey my orders — promptly let it be ; 
 Receive the oath and leave the rest to me. 
 
 From his high place came Odo forth alone, 
 Prince Harold sought, and spoke in whispered tone ; 
 
56 
 
 ■':iien led the way, the Saxon by his side, 
 Towards the altar for the oath supplied. 
 Laiifranc, the monk, close followed in their train, 
 With mien composed, and mind that could restrain 
 Those princely vassals, and their chief could sway 
 In all his pride, and teach him to obey. 
 With solemn step across that stately hall. 
 Alone they went ; the Saxon Prince, withal. 
 His fame to Wight before those princely men. 
 While looks of wrath, defiance gather'd then, 
 In his blue eye and on his lofty brow, 
 Smce he a victim to the Norman now, 
 To sterner will and darkest fate must bow. 
 The spot he reached where those cold relics lay, 
 With wild emotion, words cannot pourtray ; 
 And tho' he knew remonstrance then were vain, 
 Yet could it be, that he must hear again. 
 Repeat those words, that outrage of the Duke, 
 Nor him upbraid in terms of stern rebuke ? 
 Yes ! thus defenceless, bound in hostile land. 
 This would release him from the Norman's hand. 
 Faltering first, and then to fate resigned. 
 The Saxon swore, but with averted mind. 
 With his right hand the holy sign he made. 
 While on the shrine the left he gently laid : 
 In tones distinct and with perfidious tongue, 
 Odo proclaims the oath from Harold wrung. 
 Who with stern look now fixed on WiUiam'^s brow, 
 That vow repeats in tones of secret woe : 
 
57 
 
 " I swear, so soon as Edward is no more 
 I will receive you on the English shore ; 
 Assist your purpose to ascend the throne, 
 Oppose all others and their claims disown : 
 To wife I promise, Adelize to take, 
 And give my sister to the choice you make." 
 
 He added then, — so- quick his thought re-acts, — 
 " If I have Ufe and God approve my acts " : — 
 The vast assembly with one voice exclaimed, 
 " If God approve what you have now proclaimed." 
 As on his lips each word successive died, 
 Were woes to come, and treasons multipUed ; 
 And vows were made, fraught with a nation's fate, 
 With shame to Harold time may not abate. 
 
 And now Lanfranc the caskets both removed 
 From off the cloth, and thus, alas ! approved 
 The crime, the fraud about to be revealed, 
 And from that council carefully concealed. 
 Calm Harold stood, tho' anxious grew his eye, 
 As still he gazed upon that mystery. 
 A pause ensued, 'mid looks of doubt, surprise, 
 Till the great Duke enjoined them all to rise. 
 That the whole council with unerring view. 
 Might see, might judge, might testify how true. 
 How great, the oath which Harold thus had sworr,, 
 What holy sanction that dread oath had borne. 
 By order, Odo raised the cloth of gold, 
 And bare tc sight unveiled the relics cold. 
 Harold beheld them ; horror seized his heart. 
 His hands he clasped with a convulsive start ; 
 
68 
 
 His eye flashed fire, his brow grew dark aa night, 
 As he receded from that ghastly sight; 
 Tho' his lip quivered and his cheek was pale, 
 No words he spoke ; they could not now avail. 
 Deceived, betrayed by an atrocious fraud, 
 Too weU he knew, how widely spread abroad, 
 Thro' every land where Christian rights were known, 
 Ihat oath would be, and as a crime be shown. 
 The tomb's cold relics in those distant times. 
 In awe were held, despite transcendent crimes ; 
 And when on these a solemn oath was made, 
 Such vow to break, the boldest were afraid ' 
 He had so sworn, tho' treachery i. ere might be ;- 
 He was so bound, could aught now set him free v 
 And Harold's doom, and England's mightier fate, 
 From that sad hour their coming woe might date. 
 The fiery wrath which fell on Harold's race 
 To that dark deed a distant age would trace! 
 Thence flowed the tide of conquest o'er these isles, 
 I^ong, well prepared by WiUiam's secret wiles ; 
 And Harold's weaJcness m one fatal hour 
 Gave strength and sanction to his conqu'ring power 
 As slow the Saxon from that shrine withdrew 
 Those high-born men, both saw and felt how true 
 The mward anguish by that Prince controlled, 
 And sorrow moved in hearts not wholly cold 
 
 Impassive, stern, Duke William stUl remains, 
 While breathless silence thro' the councU reigns, 
 And warlike chieftains that great hall around, 
 Await the mandate of that chief renown'd 
 
59 
 
 Lanfranc and Odo to their seats return, 
 Approach the Norman and his orders learn : 
 And then aloud, by proclamation made, 
 The Senate's labours for that day were stayed: 
 Debate, nor counsel, did they more pursue. 
 And gladly thence those nobles all withdrew. 
 Outside, abroad, the growing rumour flies, 
 Excites the many and confounds the wise : 
 Great Harold's oath on sacred relics sworn. 
 Wide, far around on wings of fame is borne. 
 Within that castle, built by warUke men, 
 Were regal halls, adorned with splendor then ; 
 The stately home through many a vanished year, 
 Of mighty chiefs, in long sojournings there. 
 The Norman Prince with Harold, then repaired 
 Ta state apartments for his guest prepared : 
 Silent the Saxon went ; for sudden grief 
 Within his breast, nor hopes, nor seeks relief. 
 All now was known ; at length, too plain appeared, 
 While from the Duke a darker fate he feared : 
 Such foul betrayal showed that chief too weU, 
 And what might follow where his fury fell. 
 Thus sworn on relics, known, alas ! too late. 
 This dreadful oath might rule his future fate. 
 No glorious deeds, renown which he might share, 
 Could e'er for him so great a fault repair. 
 That guilty vow would cloud the Patriot's fame. 
 Shed with'ring blight upon his honored name ;— 
 He had betrayed his race, a nation's cause, 
 His noblest deeds could claim no more applause. 
 
GO 
 
 He England's pride, a people's latest hope, 
 
 Could hardly now with Dane or Norman cope. 
 
 Her old reno^vn, her safety held so dear, 
 
 His father's glory, and his own career ;1 
 
 That shadowy hope, scarce formed within his breast. 
 
 Yet passing there like dream or vision blest ;- 
 
 A hope he rarely to himself must own. 
 
 That he one day would sit on England's throne ;-. 
 
 All perilled thus, in one disastrous hour, 
 
 In such a cause, for so accuraed a power ' 
 
 Before his foe the path of conquest lay ; * 
 
 The traitor he, to point the fati ^ way : 
 
 He who ere now, dread foes as widely known 
 
 So oft had foiled,~in conflict overthrown ; ' 
 
 He who had vanquished with his valiant arm, 
 
 Shielding the throne from peril and alarm ; 
 
 Thus sell his country, his great trust betray. 
 
 To the fierce Norman and his ruthless sway ' 
 
 These madd'ning thoughts o'er which no light may beam 
 
 Weighed on his spirit like some ghastly dream. ' 
 
 This speechless woe, Luke William then could read, 
 
 For well he knew how heart hke his must bleed, 
 
 In that dread hour of darkly-douded fate, 
 
 And keen remorse which ever comes too late. 
 
 The Norman Prmce no word of triumph spoke, 
 
 Hut mildly thus the painful silence broke •— 
 
 " My kinsman Harold, well hast thou redeemed 
 Thy Pnncely word . though many may be deemed, 
 From all my favors more securely mine 
 No faith I value as I value thine : 
 
61 
 
 Near my great throne thy honored post shall be ; 
 I place my trust, my surest hopes in thee." 
 After short pause, with cold, reOukeful eye, 
 
 The Saxon Prince to William made reply : 
 " These courteous words my soul cannot relieve 
 
 Of one great fault, my lot wiU be to grieve ; 
 
 My error this, that I in evil hour, 
 
 My freedom placed in your remorseless power. 
 
 Of all the friendship you have feigned for me, 
 
 Is this my oath, your crime, the proof to be ? 
 
 My acts, forsooth, you loudly now applaud. 
 
 And well you might, but for that odious fraud. 
 
 Yet deeds so awful will ere long involve. 
 
 Questions too vast for us alone to solve. 
 
 But words are vain ; to-morrow I depart, 
 
 With hopes betrayed, with self-upbraiding heart. 
 
 Your former promise justly now I claim ; 
 In this at least be free from further blame. 
 Those kmsmen loved, my coming was to greet, 
 Yield to my prayer ; their freedom I entreat. 
 Their presence here cannot secure your throne ; 
 And this last act may for one fault atone. 
 Their cruel exile to these shores should cease, 
 And my dread oath secure them their release. 
 This I implore ; oh ! grant me but this prayer, 
 That this one wrong, at least, you may repab. 
 This end attained, I gladly take my leave 
 Of shores so hostile, hopmg to retrieve 
 My honor perilled, mourn this weakness shown, 
 Your acts forget, and expiate my own." 
 
Surprise the Norman showed, but no re^t ; 
 btern his resolves, wluch „e'er had faltered yet : 
 Wis boundless pride, his bold aspiring mind, 
 feought all to sway by hope and fear combined: 
 With spirit cast in rude but tately mould, 
 His iron will grew fierce and uncontrolled : 
 A soul 80 firm and seldom tau-ht to yield, 
 O'er feebler minds did force resistless wield ; 
 But chiefly he upon his speech retained 
 Supreme control and cold reserve maintained. 
 His pregnant words, pronoimced in t«ne sedate, 
 Bespoke a mind profomid, but not elate: 
 His passions fierce he seemed to rule at will, 
 And others swayed ivith ease and matchless skill. 
 „ * ^hen he sought by courteous arts to please. 
 He argued, praised, discoursed with fluent ease : 
 He hope encouraged, slumb'ring fears awoke, 
 tould cogent reasons for each act evoke. 
 Tho' now secure, time and events to wait, 
 For Harold struggled m the grasp of fate ; 
 And tho' full answer his great vow supplied, 
 i^et thus diff-nse he artfully replied : 
 
 " This self-reproach, thy censure, is unjust : 
 Whence these regrets, this real or feigned distnist ? 
 Is this thy friendship? is it a fault in me, 
 That trust unbounded I have placed in thee ?- 
 lo have disclosed the secrets of my soul 
 To one so great, above all mean control ? 
 I from the first, a closer alliance claimed, 
 And when secured, must I, forsooth, be blamed ? 
 
68 
 
 When tlnis allied, by friendship and by blood, 
 Will not my aim still be our common good ? 
 
 Are not my hopes, our empire to extend, 
 
 Our names and glory closer yet to blend ? 
 On Mont St. Michel, 'mid that night's repose, 
 Didst thou not freely this great oath propose ? 
 If not in words, in meaning still the same, 
 And, so agreed, we both to Bayeux came. 
 Can sacred bones more surely, firmly bind 
 Thy future conduct, or thy princely mind, 
 Than word of promise, pledge to friendship given, 
 Which stands recorded in the books of heaven ? 
 Thy bitter words may wound, but not impair, 
 The holier sanction, sure and sacred there ; 
 Nor can reproach which thou raayst now repeat. 
 High heaven's will, or my designs defeat. 
 
 " Thy lot was cast beneath propitious stars, 
 Nor yet been darkened by great public cares. 
 In childhood mine, and still in later life, 
 At first forlorn, and then thro' scenes of strife, 
 My dreams hath robbed of every fonder hope, 
 But left few foes who dare with me to cope : 
 For when my father to the Holy Land 
 Went forth the leader of a warfike band, 
 My life, this reahn he left to chosen few, 
 Who soon conspired, and many others too. 
 Ere he had left, the nobles fealty swore, 
 And then betrayed the sacred trust they bore ; 
 Against me fiercely foreign rivals rose, 
 With whom I warred, my most relentless foes: 
 
64 
 
 The.0 one by one, my valor did subdue, 
 
 Their banded lu,st,, their projeets overthrew. 
 
 My fiither died and left me to contend 
 
 With jealous kinsmen, seeking' still to rend 
 
 This flvir dominion from my sword, my sway 
 
 And to my foes, my life and throne betray • ' 
 
 Strong in my right, confiding in my sword ' 
 
 I swore to vanquish and I kept my word 
 
 From fame, thou knowest the dangers I have shared ; 
 
 That wars, revolts have not my rule impaired : 
 
 Those fierce, rude conflicts of my early years 
 
 Attest my courage, but betray no fears. 
 
 Though many a field my skill, my arms have won, 
 
 And bnght the course my fortune still hath run, 
 
 Ye tonn^yhearttheweightofmanyacaro 
 Hath taught me well in friendship to beware ; 
 And past experience adds the mournful truth. 
 So hard to learn in manhood as in youth, 
 Few hearts are faithful, save among the free, 
 And hence I place unfailing trust in thee. 
 "Thro' all these perils which beset my crown 
 
 ^M.dst all the triumphs which I since haLnTw;, 
 ^0 angry word, no action canst thou trace 
 Agamst thy country, or the Saxon race. 
 
 ^r kinsman Edward well my friendship knows, 
 And stall for him, my deep affection flows: 
 The love he bore me in my boyhood's years, 
 Was smce repaid, as from the past appears: 
 Him I ve protected, saved to fill a throne; 
 Hence all his glory, hence, great Prince, thine own 
 
C5 
 
 (Tho' thy renown, thy patriot, proud caroor, 
 
 Long I have known, and would not ((ucstion here.) 
 
 His cro^vn, his sceptre must descend to me,— 
 
 That glorious throne my heritage slioiild ho. 
 
 'Tis Edward's hope, his oft-expressed design, 
 
 That his dominion should onr ,)„, })q mipo ; 
 
 To thee, no doubt, who hn ^t his cour.sels shared, 
 
 This earnest wish was Ion, ov this d-clared: 
 
 And if that kingdom ere des. -id K will 
 
 To him best fitted that great throne to fill, 
 
 My power alone your monarch can replace, 
 
 Resist invasion and secure you peace. 
 
 My former foes are baffled, or expelled, 
 
 And fierce revolt has everywhere been quelled : 
 
 Years of repose, of growing wealth and power 
 
 May intervene before that fatal hour : 
 
 Our vet'ran legions will renown achieve, 
 
 And on tho march of future conquest leave, 
 
 In many a land, the memories of the brave. 
 
 The earth subdue, and triumph o'er the wave ;— 
 
 To shores remote will bear, with endless fame, 
 
 Our glorious flag, our proud and blended name ;— 
 
 The vast renown foretold to England's arms. 
 
 Will peace impose, and silence war's alarms ;— 
 
 And famous rulers thro' far-coming times 
 
 WiU sway the sceptre of those boundless climes ;— 
 
 Mamtain undimmed the glory of a race 
 
 Whose sons to us their lofty line will trace. 
 
 And o'er the ocean, borne by every breeze 
 
 The Northman still be sov'reign of the seas. 
 
66 
 
 If Saxon England call me to the throne 
 My arms and armies she will make her own • 
 Three kindred nations will as one remain •-- 
 Throughout the land long years of peace ;ill reign, 
 And her own laws stem justice shall maintain. 
 This thy pledge, no more ; this thy sacred oath,- 
 Apart from relics which attest its truth 
 Can soul like thine, can patriot hopes so i^ue, 
 Refuse my hand, reproach on me bestow • 
 Who'd wreathe fresh laurels round thy diuntless brow ■ 
 Who would thy name to highest glory raise, ' 
 
 And swell the chorus of a nation's praise- 
 Who Dane and Norman, Saxon seek to blend 
 In bonds of union, time can never rend ? ' 
 No, valiant Harold, thou art great and fr-^e 
 To bless thy race, to aid thyself and me 
 To prove thy faith, thy brother leave behind, 
 And for his safety I mine honour bind : 
 Thy nephew Ilaco hither take with thee, 
 But, as a guest, leave noble Ulf with me' 
 This favor grant, that when our league is' known :- 
 ihy trust m me may by this act be shown 
 Our friendship and thy promise too proclaim, 
 And sanction acts which some might seek to blame." 
 Thus spoke the Non.an, his far hopes expressed • 
 H.m, m reply, the Saxon thus addressed • * 
 
 " ^^^0^^ great Prince, what your career hath been 
 Your au. Is won in many a glorious scene ;- ' 
 
 And all those perils, stated now with truth, 
 Which fie cely rose around your early youth •- 
 
'■'■ 
 
 67 
 
 And mighty foes taught, one and aU, to yield 
 To skill, to valor on the tented field ;— 
 Your power I know, the vast renown' you claim. 
 Your long success, the splendour of your fame 
 But more I've learned, and learned, alas ! too wel! 
 That your fair words your actions all excel ; 
 These glowing thoughts, this eloquence of speech, 
 To one betrayed, a deeper lesson teach : 
 Your loud applause, the promise thus express'd, 
 No hope can bring to my distracted breast. 
 My brother Ulf you oft declared was free 
 From aU restraint, and should go hence with me : 
 ■ The boon thus promised you do now withhold, 
 And this design your honeyed words unfold ; 
 Yet I was warned by those who knew the hand 
 That held him bound in this too hostUe land. 
 Hear my last prayer ; since I with him must part. 
 Deal gently, Prince, with that young, saddened heart ;- 
 As hope for him must henceforth be in vain, 
 
 Let him not feel the harsh oppressor's cham ; 
 
 Let not your wrath, in some dark future time, 
 Fall on that head, that life without a crime ;— 
 That soul unstained, which ne'er by word or thought 
 Hath wrong to you, or to your country, brought. 
 As to my fate, may that ne'er claim your care ; 
 For Heaven's vengeance, I must now prepare ; 
 From you I ask, I seek for no relief; 
 A soul like yours makes light of others' grief. 
 
68 
 
 But let this pass ; with you all words are vain,- 
 They would increase, but not assuage my pain. 
 Yet ere I go I would not leave unsaid 
 One last remonstrance ('tis not to upbraid) 
 Against the schemes of conquest you proclaim, 
 And the amends you offer for my shame. 
 
 " To Edward's friendship, all your rights I know, 
 And great rewards on you he may bestow: 
 In such discussion I shaU claim no share. 
 Nor is it mme, my mshes to declare : 
 But of the kingdom, he dare not dispose, 
 Nor it bequeath to one of England's foes ; 
 And you should not, nor can you e'er, forget, 
 How much the Normans are distasteful yet 
 To that proud race, nor what the task would be, 
 Your rule to force upon a land so free. 
 Tho' in your favor prove the monarch's will, 
 The people love, revere their Princes stiU ; ' 
 They would refuse to recognize your claim' 
 Despite your strength, and all your martial fame 
 Remember too, Piince Edgar 's England's heir 
 A truth of which the nation is aware : 
 Tho' he be young, perchance of feeble mind 
 Yet that great people, in their strength combined. 
 May prompt!^ place him on the EngUsh throne. 
 And all the right of Cerdic's Hneage own 
 Believe, great Prince, your projects would excite 
 Long wasteful wars, the hopes of years would bUght: 
 For should you e'er invade the Saxon soil, 
 And seek by arms the kingdom to despoil 
 
69 
 
 On hostile shores you would as surely meet 
 
 Their warlike hosts, perchance a dire defeat. 
 
 Met by the fury of a nation's wrath, 
 
 A thousand perils would beset your path ; 
 
 And should your artos triumphant o'er them prove, 
 
 You'd plant your standards on a nation's grave. 
 
 What then would follow ? years of hopeless strife, 
 
 Fierce wars of race, crimes, waste of human life. 
 
 These are the woes ambition would prepare, 
 
 And these the blessings, conquest would confer. 
 
 Conquest only can the throne ensure, 
 
 By conquest only can you be secure. 
 
 My oath may bind, each act of mine prove true, 
 
 But in this work all must depend on you : 
 
 Candor forbids your hopes I should deceive ; 
 
 Your arms alone can these designs achieve." 
 
 The Norman Prince, his eye now flashmg fire, 
 With stem control repressed his kindUng ire ; 
 Constrained he spoke, his anger ill concealed, 
 ViTiile looks of wath his fiery thoughts revealed : 
 
 " Why all these perils studiously retrace, 
 To me, the ruler of the Norman race ? 
 Dost thou conceive such dangers would deter, 
 When my just rights and my best hopes concur? 
 More than all men's, my spirit doth abhor 
 'The crunes, the horrors of all-wasting war ; 
 And when by peace those rights I can obtain, 
 From arms, from blood I carefully abstain. 
 But when all other, better means have failed. 
 Before stem war my sword hath never quaiied. 
 
W'H 
 
 70 
 
 Bear this in mind, be thou exempt from blame, 
 Avoid God's wrath, and talk no more of shame. 
 Thy glorj, now, thj country's interest still, 
 Combine in this,~do thou thy part fulfil • ' 
 These aims pursue, redeem thy promise made, 
 And by thy words, by strenuous means persuade 
 lay baxon nobles of my high resolve. 
 And of those perils war must needs iiivohe 
 If their resistance I am doomed to meet 
 Or should they seek my projects to defeat. 
 The feeble Edgar must his fate abide. 
 And all his claims be promptly cast aside: 
 ^ith these great truths be thou and aU impressed, 
 And .ount on me ; my sword will do the rest. 
 From honor's path my steps wiU not depart. 
 For Heaven's will instructs and guides mv heart. 
 But now no more ; time a.d success will prove 
 That my best hopes are in the powers above." 
 
 From bs dark eye awakening fury broke. 
 
 And this the warrior was compelled to brook 
 
 Here prudence taught, in outward sign to yidd, 
 And de ,, ,^^ ^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^ , 
 
 Thus briefly he the haughty Duke addressed, 
 li. studied words which dubious sense expressed: 
 
 If IT rf ' 'T ^'""''^ '''' '^^'-'^ 0- that rely 
 If hfe I have and sanction from on high 
 
 To be so ruled must be my duty still • 
 Each hope, each promise rightJy to fulfil » 
 
71 
 
 Duke William now unbent his haughty pride ; 
 
 And to Prmce Harold eagerly replied : 
 ^ " Thine oath I have ; and in return I swear, 
 
 First in my fortunes thou shalt ever share ; 
 
 In fields of fame, or seated near the throne, 
 
 To every nation our high friendship known : 
 
 Great Harold still shall Saxon rights uphold, 
 
 And highest honors to liis race behold : 
 
 We'U blend the glory of heroic names, 
 
 And our renown trarsmit to future times. 
 
 Receive this pledge, .-a it is freely given ; 
 
 Besides my word, its record is in heaven." 
 Thus in thJr thoughts, their tone and speech constrained. 
 
 Those chiefs renowned in converse brief remained. 
 
 Soon to a levee Normans, Saxons throng, 
 And in discourse their audience there prolong. 
 By courteous arts, he could at will exert, 
 Duke William sought attention to divert 
 From topics painful to Prinv "Harold's mind. 
 While high-bom men, with words and gesture kind, 
 And reverent looks, the Saxon chief surround, 
 And blame device which hero thus had bound. 
 But rankling still within the Saxon's breast. 
 Corroding deep, because now unexprest. 
 Burned the dire thought of that detested fraud. 
 Too foul for even Normans to applatid. 
 
 In a vast hall a banquet stood prepared, 
 By all those princes, nobles to be shared. 
 With regal fare and richest viands laid. 
 Of guests that board a long array displayed ; 
 
72 
 
 And costly wines, hy many a trader sought, 
 And for the Duke fr< ra various regions brought. 
 With stately splendour shone that gorgeous scene, 
 Where ne'or before such royal feast had been. 
 The hour had come and Jordly gae?its vere there 
 Warriors renowned and men of lineage rare ; 
 But honored most wore those of Saxon ?)Iooa, 
 And 'midst thern aU two warlike Princes sto'>d. 
 Dulc^- William first, with gracious words to all, 
 Look^;! EtiL' ihe <;liief, vc- dangers could appal ;— 
 Less tal' thaii Harold and in aspect cold, 
 But cast ja atapler, more gigantic mould ;— 
 His jjyliss smile, serene and godlike brow, 
 
 The steadfast air which high resolves bestow • 
 
 The stem repose in his imperial eye. 
 
 And shades of thought which man's research defy, 
 
 All gave imposmg grandeur to his look. 
 
 Which neither freedom nor approach could brook ;— - 
 
 Something repressive, ruthless to his mien. 
 
 Which none forgot who once that man had seen. 
 
 Came Harold next, that chief of peerless name, 
 The loftiest head, the knight of purest fame. 
 The same in age, by better hopes impelled, 
 In strength and grace the Norman he excelled : 
 His acts as courteous as his spirit bold, 
 Nor could the eye more splendid form behold. 
 Men's hearts he gamed, they deep devotion gave 
 To one so gentle, chivalrous and brave : 
 There was a mildness in his fearless eye 
 That won, unasked, men's love and sympathy: 
 
78 
 
 Yet ever on his pale and princely brow, 
 There dwelt a sadness grief docs not bestow ; 
 The fatal shadow of a doom too near, 
 Which struck him down in height of life's career. 
 Within his bosom glowed one steady flame, — 
 A love of glory, hope of deathless fame : 
 Alas ! those perils which await on power, 
 Betrayed, destroyed, in one ill-fated hour ! 
 
 Soon to that feast the princes led the way, 
 And following there those guests in long array. 
 Harold's high place was now on William's right. 
 While on his left, conspicuous to the sight. 
 With courtly ease and graceful pride combined. 
 His brother Odo had his seat assigned. 
 Lanfranc the Priest, by Odo had his seat. 
 And with kmd words each other there they greet. 
 On Harold's right was Geoffrey of Coutances, 
 And much his presence did men's joy enhance. 
 A prelate he of learmng and repute. 
 Of joyous manners, and a mind acute : — 
 And next to hun Count Kobert of Mortmaine, 
 The Duke's half-brother, did a place retam ; 
 And many others, some of equal name, 
 All mighty men and later known to fame. 
 Around that board proud nobles took their place, 
 With friendly speech, without regard to race. 
 And Ulf was there, his nephew Haco too, 
 And noble Saxons to their country true. 
 Who each that oath and this great feast deplored, 
 And to depart had Harold oft implored. 
 
74 
 
 WiUiam was grave, but courteous to his guest 
 ■AJid the great Prince in cheerful tones addressed. 
 Tho Harold smiled, a cloud wa^ on his brow, 
 And in liis heart, a deep consuming w(.e. 
 Swift fled the hours, fast flowed the pmple wine 
 And hearts and hands in friendship would combine. 
 Proud, thoughtful mmds in part forgot their care, 
 Stem men waxed gay, and joyous hearts were there. 
 But of that feast the Saxon scarce partook, 
 Nor for a moment his reserve forsook. 
 The hours passed on, the time of parting came- 
 First Harold went, his foUowers did the same • ' 
 Then followed WilHam and his nobles too : ' 
 And to repose those Prmces aU withdrew. 
 
 With glowmg dawn the mom arose next d^y 
 To cheer the Saxon on his homeward way; 
 
 And ere the sun had yet ascended high, ' 
 Amid the glories of the eastem sky, 
 
 Harold departed. With him Haco went, 
 
 But Ulf remabed, a fatal grief to vent, . 
 
 Thro' hopeless years of exile and despair, . 
 
 And woes too great for youthful hearts to bear 
 
 The Saxon chiefs went gladly onward now, 
 
 And with them William with unruffled brow • 
 
 While Norman nobles followed in their train * 
 
 These guests to honor with display now vain. 
 
 The sea they reach long ere the star of day 
 
 O'er earth had shed his latest evening ray 
 
 That glorious sea! resplendent 'neath the beam 
 
 Of setting smis which o'er ila.waters gleam ; 
 
76 
 
 Harold with joy beheld that sea once more, 
 While with glad ear he listened to its roar. 
 Once on its waves and borne before the gale, 
 He'd 'scape regrets which could not now avail :-- 
 That with'ring chill which paralyzed the soul, 
 Would vanish soon, nor long his thoughts control ; 
 The ocean chief exulting o'er the wave. 
 Would darkest hour of midnight peril brave. 
 And should the winds their nightly revels keep. 
 The tempest's roar would lull his woes to sleep.' 
 Yet how return, how that foul deed proclaim ? 
 How greet companions of his former fame ? 
 Altho' now free and eager to depart, 
 This grief profound still lingered round his heart. 
 
 Two ships at anchor did the Prince await, 
 For hhn prepared with pomp and royal state. 
 Ere he embarked, upon that shore they stood, 
 All grave and calm, in solemn, thoughtful mood. 
 While William there, fit tributes to the brave ; 
 Rare, costly gifts to the great Saxon gave; 
 Such gifts as well became a mighty Prince 
 A monarch's tokens, friendship to evince. 
 Now length'ning shadows of departing day 
 Fall from the hills and deepen o'er the bay, 
 Where Harold's bark rides to the rising gale, 
 With ready helm and white expanding sail : 
 The settmg sun sinks slowly in the west. 
 O'er distant oceans, regions of the blest: 
 
 H 
 
 r 
 
 «i 
 
76 
 
 On the hor: ^,. ,n, lir,r ' h ; to the sight, 
 
 And passiuET thenco to other realms of light, 
 
 'Mid golien clouds, bright isles of many a hie, 
 
 Like holier worlds to man's despairing view,— 
 
 Serene abodes, so far remover^, from dime, 
 
 ^hey seem the sojounis of immortal life,— 
 
 Celestial homes where angel spirits dwell. 
 
 Or that lair scene where our first parents fell ;— 
 
 While dtep beyond, all splendour to the eye, 
 
 Recede the glories of the evening sky ;— 
 
 A far, effulgent canopy of light, 
 
 Fading from day to azure of the night, 
 
 Till light and darkness, with all blending power. 
 
 Meet in the mys'tries of tL ■ twilight hour. 
 
 The night descends ; low winds the ocean sweep, 
 
 And Harold now looks wistful o'er the deep. 
 
 Then said th^'se chiefs a long, a last adieu :— 
 
 Farewell to friendship they shall ne'er renew :— 
 
 They met again, but on nnoiher shore. 
 
 In fatal strife, 'mid battle's deaf" ling roar. 
 
BOOK FOURTH. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 HistorWl rctro.prct,-RcviPw of the- early invasions of England, and of tho Bottlo. 
 me„t n, sucn ,. io.. of the .liilorot i: l.rs.-Juliu. Ca.ar and the Romanl 
 -Tl,o.r warn w.th tho native nritous, and the proKresn of tho imperial arms. 
 
 ^mrr.!.H T r^'lT''^ '""^ civili.atiou in Britai.,.-Supr..ma<..v of 
 Rome, and the decluie of her power. -Irruption.s and devastations of the bar- 
 barians.-Alaric and tho Goths.-Their inva-sioi. ,f r.recce.-Stllicho the 
 \andal.-H.» march into Greece, and tho retreat of tho Goths.-Alario in- 
 vade. Italy.-Uatt es of Pollentia and Wrona.-Stilicho defeat, tho Goth.. 
 and drives them beyond tho Alps.-IlhadaKin.us and the hordes from the 
 shores of the ] alt.c. -Def.^at and death of Bhadaginsn.. and tho oven hrow of 
 the Confederate Barbarians by Stilicho. in a Kreat battle noar Florence - 
 -Desolation of Gaul. -Second invasion of Italy by Alaric.-Death of tha 
 Vandal.-Siege and sacit of Rome by the Goths.-Plunder and subjUKatiou of 
 the^outh.-Collapseof tho Empire of tho West.-Tho separation and inde- 
 pcndcncoofBritain.-The Saxons, Danes and other inv.idcrs.-Long peh.His 
 ofaarkness.dosolatioii and anarchy in Britain.-Dawn of better times -Con- 
 sohdation of the English monarchy—Succession of Dynasties to tho time of 
 Edwa 'the Confessor. 
 
 In lou^ eview here let our thoughts survey 
 Far other scenes of England's earlier day, 
 And o'er the retrospect of ages gone, 
 
 Behold how nations were by war undone : 
 
 How on the waves of fiery deluge borne. 
 Barbarian conquest, in those days forlorn, 
 O'erspread the earth with havoc and despair, 
 And built its thrones beneath the lurid glare 
 Of desolation, 'mid the wrecks of time ; 
 And stamed with blood of unrepented crime, 
 The iron sceptres which the conquerors bore 
 O'er vanquished races which rose up no more. 
 See ruthless Northmen, as invaders sweep 
 Thro' midnight perils the temj>eBiuous deep, 
 
78 
 
 Till in their course, with stem and high command, 
 
 Rude sway they .lold o'er this immortal land. 
 
 Fierce Roman legions, then wild northern hordes, 
 
 Of fair Britannia the triumphant lords, 
 
 Subdue the natives, the fair isle despoil, 
 
 Then plant their standards on the blood-stained soil. 
 
 Amidst what storms did Albion's sun arise. 
 
 To blaze in glory from her noon-day skies ! 
 
 What mighty conflicts in a distant ago 
 
 Did savage tribes in wrath against her wage ! 
 
 What toil and blood, what vast invasions came. 
 
 Ere England raised the temple of her fame, 
 
 And filled the earth with echoes of her name ! 
 
 Around her shores man's blood hath dyed the deep ; 
 
 Low in her vales lost generations sleep ; 
 
 And from dim realms of legend and the dead. 
 
 O'er which the past hath dull oblivion spread. 
 
 Loom forth grim memories of rulers gone. 
 
 Of crimes too great for glory to atone. 
 
 Upon my course, Muse, shed clearer light ; 
 
 Guide me secure far thro' the solemn night. 
 
 And shadows deep, low brooding o'er the wast« 
 
 Of woeful times and desert centuries past : 
 
 O'er fallen thrones and temples lead my way. 
 
 With aid divine, to dawn of brighter day : — 
 
 Let me behold, of nations now no more. 
 
 The awful tombs upon the silent shore 
 
 Of Time's dark ocean ; and from old isnown, 
 
 The desolation of those days make known. 
 
 Ages had gone, and ere Prince Harold's day, 
 Eleven hundred years had passed away, 
 Since, fired with glory, Rome's imperial power 
 Sought fields of conquest on Britannia's shore. 
 The great first Caesar, in his warUke pride, 
 A race assailed which well his arms defied : 
 
T9 
 
 Tho' long victonon3 in the wilda of Gaul, 
 
 Great Albion's chiefs his arms could not appal : 
 
 He came and saw, but sought not to explore, 
 And, making peace, regained the Gallic shore. 
 There fleets were built, arm'd preparations made, 
 And fierce ambition each resource displayed. 
 Then all e(iuipp'd, beneath that dread command 
 Again his legion.s sought this distant land ; 
 A war ensued, and then resistance spread 
 From tribe to tribe, by patriot cliieftains led : 
 And the rude Britons, warring but o'erthrown, 
 Yield to a foe supreme in earth's renown. 
 Soon their great king, last hope 'mid war's alarms, 
 Cassivelaunus sunk beneath their arms. 
 At Verulam this warlike Prince subdued. 
 Submission made, and then a peace ensued. 
 To Rome in triumph Caesar straight repaired, 
 Boasting aloud of all his arms had dared ; 
 Of conquests made in far and wondrous isle, 
 And fertile regions others might despoil. 
 But vain the laurels which the hero gained, 
 Where soon no vestige of his power remained. 
 
 A respite came,— long years then passed away, 
 Ere proud Britannia bowed to Roman sway. 
 Meantime Caligula with empty boast. 
 And menace stem, collects a mighty host : 
 But the fierce tyrant dreads this hostile shore, 
 And fleets and armies which ne'er paused before 
 Parade their pomp, their warlike strength in vam, 
 That one crowned fool a triumph might obtain. 
 Yet veteran armies on a later day. 
 Did Rome's ambition and her power display: 
 Imperial legions in their might arrayed, 
 And chosen generals, steady progress made ; 
 
80 
 
 The native tribes, by mutual hatred torn, 
 
 Recoil, retreat, by conquering arms o'erbome. 
 
 The proud Caractacus was forced to yield 
 
 To Roman valor on immortal field : — 
 
 From Caer Caradoc's ensanguined hight 
 
 He fled pursued in long and rapid flight, 
 
 To Cartismanda, and by her betrayed, 
 
 The mighty captive was to Rome conveyed. 
 
 With eye serene, in aspect like a god, 
 
 The streets of Rome the British monarch trod ; 
 
 And as he moved, in Roman fetters bound. 
 
 His gaze he fixed upon the scene around ; — 
 
 Beheld Rome's trophies, stained with many a crime, 
 
 The spoils of conquest, brought from every clime. 
 
 Then to his view, amid admiring foes. 
 
 The stately homes of Roman wealth arose ; — 
 
 Statues of gold, designed by pagan tliought. 
 
 Temples of fame, in matchless beauty wrought ; 
 
 Monuments of power, and shrmes of man's renown, 
 
 And tributes rare of many a vanquished crown. 
 
 Vie whig these splendours of victorious Rome, 
 
 He wonders why they sought his humble home. 
 
 Imperial Claudius, on his throne of power, 
 
 'Mid glory sat, in that triumphant hour ; 
 
 And near the standard to the breeze unfurled, 
 
 Reclined the Empress of the Roman world : 
 
 High o'er the millions who beheld that scene, 
 
 They greet the captive with benignant mien : 
 
 By Roman pride, the hero led in chains, 
 
 A patriot's heart, a dauntless soul maintains. 
 
 Then followed wars ; the Britons driven back, 
 Left desolation, slaughter m their track : 
 Tho' on the field their valor was disjdayed. 
 In many g scene they failing strength betrayed : 
 
81 
 
 Stem Roman chieftains followed them afar 
 Filling the isle with havoc and despair. 
 Till Suetonius took supreme command 
 Of the invaders in this distant land ; 
 A man of war and fired by love of fame, 
 To rule, to conquer he to Britain came. 
 The Druid's creed had long resistance shown, 
 And by dark deeds too well its power was known : 
 Unfailing foresight of these priestly men, 
 Destruction saw impending o'er them then ; 
 The storm beheld — employed each precious hour, • 
 To spread revolt against the Roman power. 
 But now went forth precise and stern decree, 
 That of this creed, Home's empire should be free ; 
 And Suetonius, eager to obey. 
 Resolved to smite, destroy without delay. 
 In Mona's isle, 'mid many a forest scene. 
 From times remote that worship long had been : 
 There priests and priestesses had refuge sought, 
 And holiest emblems of their faith had brought. 
 To leave no vestige, save of sword and flame, 
 Here the great Roman with his legions came. 
 By Druid priests, in long white robes arrayed, 
 The Roman vanguard's dread assault was stayed. 
 Appalled, they halt before the sacred band, 
 Till loud is heard their general's stern command : 
 Quick they advance, in close and fierce array. 
 And sweep the victims of their wrath away. 
 Females and Pontiffs, votaries of that faith. 
 Lay weltering there in cold and cruel death. 
 Their temples, groves were wrapt in instant flame, 
 By rage and fury, pity could not tame. 
 Suppliant vows arose to Heaven in vain. 
 Nor 'mid the carnage could the sword restrain. 
 
82 
 
 This immolation spread a hideous gloom, 
 And smote with horror of predestined doom. 
 Stem Suetonius still destroying there 
 
 Soon all reduced to ruin and despair ; 
 
 And on that day, the Druid and his creed, 
 In Britain perished by remorseless deed. 
 A contest fierce and fatal now ensued. 
 By which Britannia was in blood imbrued : 
 Boused by revenge in Boadicea's soul, 
 Whose fiery passions raged without control. 
 Throughout the realm a vast revolt arose. 
 Breathing destruction to her Roman foes. 
 She sought the woes of many a bitter day. 
 With fire and sword and havoc to repay. 
 Queen of the isles, she sways a warlike force. 
 Which checks the legions in their onward course. 
 While insurrection, 'neath her great command. 
 In fury swept thro' the insurgent land : 
 Each, all remembered what her wrongs had been. 
 And princes, warriors rallied round their Queen : 
 Barbarian levies, come from far and near. 
 Around her standard thronging now appear ; 
 And, fired with hate of Rome's imperial power. 
 In fierce impatience wait th' avenging Rour. 
 London and Maiden wrapt in sudden flame. 
 The Queen's resolve too loudly did proclaim. 
 The Roman general, with experienced eye. 
 Did all the dangers to his arms descry. 
 Retreating first, he marched from post to post, 
 Before the barbarous and infuriate host : 
 From distant stations promptly he withdrew 
 His veteran troops, and bravest chieftains too. 
 Thus reinforced, with peril all around, 
 For the great conflict fitting scene was found : 
 
 \M 
 
83 
 
 And there he halts, confronts their proud array, 
 Resolved to die or conquer on that day. 
 Long raged the contest on that field of blood, 
 And well those foes each dread assault withstood. 
 Along the ranks Queen Boadicea flew, 
 With brow of wrath the carnage to renew. 
 O'er all the plain, upon her chariot borne. 
 She calls for vengeance on that day forlorn. 
 With auburn hair, far streaming in the breeze. 
 And warlike dress extending to the knees, 
 Her voice, her gestures, maniac fury wore. 
 And awed the legions 'mid the battle's roar. 
 The martial Roman sternly kept his ground, 
 And hurled destruction on his foes around. 
 When their great chiefs lay low among the dead. 
 The Britons faltered — in disorder fled. 
 Vast, wild and bloody, final the retreat. 
 Which followed there that victory and defeat ; 
 And Boadicea left that fatal field. 
 But to the Roman ne'er would deign to yield. 
 His tyrant sway she boldly had defied, 
 And as she lived, so unsubdued she died : 
 By her own hand that famous Princess fell. 
 Proving the fierceness of her soul too well. 
 
 After those days of slaughter and dismay. 
 The power of Rome held less destructive sway ; 
 Until once more the wild Silures arose, 
 And with Brigantes did her rule oppose. 
 But soon her arms o'erwhelming vengeance bore, 
 And from those tribes resistance came no more. 
 In later years, with almost sceptered hand, 
 Agricola ruled all the subject land : 
 Where'er great tribes rebellious hopes retain, 
 His veteran legions did revolt restrain ; 
 
84 
 
 And tho' those days were days of Rome's decline, 
 
 Still wealth, repose and policy combine 
 
 To spread a halo o'er disastrous times, 
 
 And bear her laws o'er Britain's conquered climes. 
 
 Scotia was free— was wild and unsubdued ; 
 
 Her valiant sons, invasion had withstood. 
 With Picts and Scots they oft and long alUed, 
 The power of Rome triumphantly defied :— 
 To many a field, her patriot chiefs were called ; 
 They fled, returned, and still their arms appalled : 
 Till Galgacus, a prince of martial fame, 
 To meet invasion with his levies came. 
 The vast array of the barbarian foe, 
 From sterile hills swept to the vales below, 
 Where veteran valor, stem and undismayed, 
 In dreadful ranks stood silently arrayed. 
 Embattled legions firmly kept their posts. 
 Till came the shock of the contending hosts ;— 
 
 Then all was carnage, horror and despair, 
 
 They smote, destroyed and thousands perished there ; 
 The Roman triumphed, but 'mid countless slain, 
 And Scotia's heroes strewed the hostile plain. 
 On Ardoch's moor deep o'er that fatal flight, 
 Slowly descended the cold shades of night. 
 
 The power of Rome— her wise decrees at length. 
 O'er all the realm went forth in warlike strength':— 
 From Cornwall's shores unto the Grampian hiUs, 
 That mighty name with awe the island fills. 
 Great walls and ramparts, military posts, 
 With strong defences on far sea-girt coasts. 
 Her rule maintained against the restless foes, 
 Whose hardy valor did her march oppose. 
 Proud her dominion on each frontier stood. 
 And peace maintained on land and by the flood ; 
 
 ii^> 
 
85 
 
 i 
 
 i.t 
 
 
 Great roads extended, toil its premium bore, 
 And Romans, natives, lived as foes no more : 
 Imperial power, the wealth and arts of Rome, 
 Of Roman life made here resplendent home. 
 Four hundred years the conciuest now had swayed, 
 
 And vast and stately policy displayed ; 
 
 Of Jove and Druid the dark rites were gone. 
 
 And God's true creed had sacred works begun ; 
 
 Beneath a sovereign and protecting hand, 
 
 Soon Christian light dawned o'er the subject land. 
 
 This change the heathen from his idols drew, 
 
 And thro' all ranks a pure religion grew ; 
 
 Peace, law and order followed in its train, 
 
 And Albion saw calm, hopeful times again. 
 
 Carleon sur Usk, a strong and frontier town, 
 
 Had grown to wealth, to splendor and renown ; 
 
 London and York and others widely known, 
 
 To noble cities in those times had grown. 
 
 Between these towns were posts and strongholds found, 
 
 And camps and legions stationed were around ; 
 
 Theatres and baths on famous sites arose. 
 
 And pompous tombs where glory might repose ; 
 
 Towers of defence, great temples, false and true, 
 
 Loomed far and near, and claimed the passer's view ; 
 
 Fair Roman homes, academies of thought. 
 
 And trade's great marts by commerce freely sought : 
 
 All these were there, adorned this distant land, 
 And grew beneath the conqueror's ruling hand. 
 
 Thus from the coasts where the Atlantic roars, 
 To the soft dales by the Euphrates' shores ; — 
 From the great w: i! bv Cuiedonia's strearog, 
 To where the sun of Central Afric beams ; — 
 Thro' all the bouiHi" of rastern, western day. 
 The Roman sceptre held its sovereign sway : 
 
86 
 
 Spain, Britain, Gaul and Africa were bound,— 
 
 Ausonia, Greece, and many an isle around ;— 
 
 And Orient realms along the Tigris' shore, 
 
 Old Asia's climes, her stem dominion bore;— 
 
 The far Euphrates, and the fertile Nile, 
 
 Along whose banks so many regions smile, 
 
 The Thames, the Severn, her proud empire own, 
 
 The Rhine, the Tiber and the rapid Rhone. 
 
 The Danube too, and many a mountain land, 
 
 And fertile vales beneath her rule expand ; 
 
 That mighty empire teemed with human life. 
 
 Vast scene of toil, of turbulence and strife ; 
 
 Of virtue, vice, convulsion and repose. 
 
 Of eager hopes, ambition and deep woes, 
 
 Of fleeting joys and intellectual pride. 
 
 And all that wealth and luxury supplied. 
 
 Rome awed the earth, footstool of her renown, 
 
 And wore the patriot's and the despot's crown, 
 
 Her early freedom, then her tyrant sway. 
 
 Had marked her course through many a vanished day ; 
 
 Her time was full, her great career was run, 
 
 And lowering storms hung round her setting sun. 
 
 Great Theodosiaa slept ;— his country's foes 
 
 Will ne'er dislarb hm long and last reiMjse ;— 
 
 Tite mighty ^eng which so proudly bore 
 
 Tiae Roman crown, commands her hosts no more ;— 
 
 Tm star of conquest, which had lured so long, 
 
 To deeds of glory, rapine and of wrong. 
 
 Had sunk to rise no more upon the earth, 
 
 Leaving the world to darkness and to urath. 
 
 Degenerate sons succeeded to his swj*y 
 
 O'er subject thrones in Rome's declining day. 
 
 The weak Arcadius ruled the fertile Ea«t, 
 
 Wliile young Honorius reigned o'er ail the Wesi^ 
 
87 
 
 Her great dominion thus divided stood, 
 In mournful pride, against the savage brood 
 Of Northern hordes, about to rush to arms, 
 To fill the world with woe and war's alarms. 
 Tho' vengeful tribes the frontiers had assailed, 
 O'er skill and valor they had not prevailed : — 
 And still they wait the dire, avenging hour, 
 Of final conflict with the Roman power. 
 
 O'erwhelming now, the dread tornado came. 
 And wrapp'd the world in storm, and death, and flame 
 The tempest's wrath broke o'er imperial Rome, 
 With signs prophetic of relentless doom : — 
 Fierce heathen hordes, wild tribes of many a race. 
 Swept o'er her frontiers, passed each guarded place. 
 The Rhine, the Danube, quick were traversed o'er, 
 And fierce barbarians woe and terror bore 
 To smiling lands, thro' fair and golden climes. 
 Laid waste and plundered in those woeful times : — 
 The towering Alps, with their eternal snows. 
 Are chmbed, are scaled, by the advancing foes ; 
 And proud Italia, 'neath her azure skies, 
 The victim soon of the avenger lies ; — 
 The Goth and Roman, fired by deathless hate 
 Array their legions for the work of fate. 
 
 But turn we first to that resplendent land, 
 So oft despoiled by the invader's hand ; 
 Pale, thoughtful Greece with sorrow on thy brow, 
 And traces of hot tears, long dried up now ; 
 On thy young dreams what mystic light was shed, 
 What halos linger o'er thy peerless dead ! 
 CUme where genius glowed with heavenly flame. 
 And patriot heroes won immortal fame ; — 
 Where Plato's wisdom, where the mightiest taught, 
 Of eodiike beautv and far-soarins thoiiffht : — 
 
 m 
 
88 
 
 Where Homer, Sappho, breathed their lays divine, 
 
 Earth boasts no memories, no reno^vn like thine. 
 
 From that dark day on Adrianople's plain, 
 
 Where Valens fought and Romans died in vain, 
 
 Barbarian tribes, migrating from the East, 
 
 Had distant frontiers pillaged and laid waste. 
 
 There prowled the Goth by the swift Danube's shore, 
 
 And oft his arms against the Empire bore : 
 
 At length these hordes, Alaric at their head, 
 
 Were by that chief thro' routes of conquest led ; 
 
 In hosts they marched by mountain and o'er plain, 
 
 And sought the soil of Attica to gain. 
 
 Thermoi)ylae they passed without a blow, 
 
 And poured like deluge on the realms below ; 
 
 Till where the city of Minerva stood, 
 
 They halted sternly in their march of blood. 
 
 Then yielded Athens to barbarian power. 
 
 Veiling her anguish in that fatal hour. 
 
 Feeble, defenceless, vanquished on that day, 
 
 Her head was bowed to the dread conqueror's sway. 
 
 The virgin goddess will defend no more. 
 
 The sacred shrine which once her worship bore. 
 
 Ill-fated Greece ! thy patriot hearts were cold 
 
 Beneath the soil their blood had dyed of old. 
 
 Nor Sparta, Argos, Corinth, struck a blow, 
 
 In thy defence against the ruthless foe. 
 
 Who marked with ruin thy all-glorious land, 
 
 And slaughtered, pillaged with unpitying hand. 
 
 The temples, treasures, relics of the past. 
 
 And all thj^t should the wrath of man outlast, 
 
 With blood and tears were soiled upon that night, 
 
 On which the Goth, far marching in his might, 
 
 O'erran fair G reece, abodes of many a god, 
 
 And scenes defiled her heroes once had trod. 
 
89 
 
 The wealth of ages, beauty, in despair, 
 
 The spoils, tlie victims, seized by rapine there : 
 
 And many a fane and hallowe<l haunt and vale, 
 
 Where'er their fury and their arms prevail. 
 
 Were trodden o'er, thro' that illustrious scene 
 
 Of man's resort, as they had never been. 
 
 Abodes of thought, of genius and rcno^vn, 
 
 Where godlike men had worn the victor's crown, 
 
 Whose mighty tombs are unforgotten } t. 
 
 And so will be, while Grecian suns shall set, 
 
 Bathing in splendor that unrivalled land, 
 
 So blest, adorned by nature's bounteous hand. 
 
 Thus all destroying, plundering on his course, 
 
 He saw approach with an avenging force, 
 
 The great Stilicho, general of the West, 
 
 Who on the Goth with veteran legions press'd. 
 
 By him assailed, and warned by a defeat, 
 
 The cruel foe sought safety in retreat. 
 
 Upon the Elean Mount, with cliffs around. 
 
 The Gothic Monarch passing refuge found. 
 
 Escaping thence, he fl'^fl with all his host 
 
 And in his flight sought the Egean coast. 
 
 The weak Arcadius, sovereign of the East, 
 
 Of these invaders sought to be released : — 
 
 For peace he sued and let the Goth depart, 
 
 While Roman virtue fired a Vandal's heart. 
 
 And there Stilicho whose unconquered sword 
 
 Had long been drawn two tottering thrones to guard, 
 
 Arrested, foiled in glory's bright career, 
 
 'Midst ruin halted on the Gothic rear : 
 
 And saw the foe, by an inglorious peace, 
 
 Retreat in triumph witii the spoils of Greece. 
 
 Collecting hordes to war and rapine tramed, 
 In brief repose, Alaric ti^n r«mained= 
 
90 
 
 Till on Italia, with increasing wrath, 
 
 lit inarched 'mid havoc strewed upon his path. 
 
 The masters of the world were forced again, 
 
 To meet that chief upon more glorious plain. 
 
 From Britain then Ilonorius did recall, 
 
 A veteran army stationed near the wall, 
 
 On which the Romans did their skill bestow, 
 
 To guard the north against a restless foe. 
 
 And other legions, from stronghoMs afar, 
 
 Were now withdrawn, the fatal hour to share. 
 
 Of warlike force successively bereft, 
 
 Outlying realms defenceless soon were left, 
 
 The Gothic ki-^T and Stilicho once more, 
 
 Met in fiercf -nifiict near Tanarus' shore ; 
 
 There on I' i<\ tiii's blood-stained field of death, 
 
 The VandttI l)ef> won the laurel wreath ; — 
 
 Unlike the glory which to conquest leads, 
 
 But crc wned with halo of immortal deeds ; — 
 
 The patriot's triumph and the warrior's crown, 
 
 Thro' time's long ages hallowed by renown. 
 
 The stern Alaric routed and pursued, 
 
 Was by StiUcho on that day subdued. 
 
 O'erwhelmed he fled in fury from that scene, 
 
 Where Rome victorious long before had been : — 
 
 For to the mind, thro' many centuries gone, 
 
 Come back the deeds which Marins there had done. 
 
 O'er the fierce Cimbri in their direst mood, 
 
 His arms had triumphed on that field of blood. 
 
 The bones of Goths and Cimbri mingle there. 
 
 Memorials still of slaughter and despair. 
 
 The wild invader, wheti that day was lost. 
 
 Retreated sternly with his vanquished host. 
 
 And near Verona on a later day. 
 
 The Gothic hordes encamped upon their way : — 
 
01 
 
 Three Roman armies fiercely there enclose, 
 "With hopes ot' vengeance, these relentless foes. 
 Alaric then, his savage arms at hay, 
 Did matchless valor in the field display. 
 Th' intrepid Vandal, Home's last hope in war, 
 Smolo the Barbarian till the evening star 
 Shone o'er that scene of carnage and defeat, 
 Illuming the horrors of that vast retreat. 
 The Roman chief, to strike the fatal blow, 
 Pursued the marcl of the retreating foe, 
 Whose martial mind no stratagems surprise, 
 Whose dauntless so'il the victor still defies. 
 The mighty force wlach the barbarian still 
 Directs, commands by his unconquered will, 
 Resists and foils tin wary Vandal's skill ; 
 Till mountain defiles warn him to beware. 
 To shun the fury of the Goth's despair ; 
 Who tho' escaping from a sinking state, 
 Saw death, despair and famine sent by fate. 
 Hang on his rear, far thro' that day of doom, 
 By many n land unto his frozen home. 
 
 Now from the East the Scythian hordes came forth) 
 With savage nations, moving thro' the North, 
 In sudden wra' along the Baltic shore, 
 Whencf came the Cimbri man\ an age before. 
 All rushed from regions of c emal snow, 
 With headlong fury on the realms liclow. 
 Thus fierce barbarians from the North and East, 
 On conquest bent toward the frontier press'd. 
 From wintry climes they sped o'er boundless plains. 
 And turned to deserts Europe's ido domains. 
 Burgundians, Suevi, Vandals, ana the Goth, 
 With others leagued, poured fiercely o^ the South : — 
 Confederate nations formed that heatheu host, 
 Altho' of many, name and trace be lost. 
 
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 Two Imndrea thousand men, in dark array, 
 
 Movcl like the tempest on its midnight wa^ ; 
 Towards the Rhine and Danuhe was cheir eourse, 
 WJuch soon were pass'd by this invadi,.. force. 
 Kound .hstant frontiers and strongholds "afar, 
 Were heard the sounds and ravages of war. 
 fctern Rhadaginsus tiiese wild nations led, 
 And death and ruin on his march were spread. 
 Ut Jiese apart, did southern climes invade 
 And straight to Florence rapid marches made. 
 J^ut slight resistance on their course they found 
 And sr^n their hosts the city did surround. ' 
 Jhere Rome s last guardian, victor on each field, 
 Did from destruction the fair Florence shield • 
 1 le savage hordes, enveloped and o'ercome 
 Were roiUed slaughtered by the arms of R'oi,e :^ 
 Upon the heights of Fiesuhe they died, 
 And far around upon the mountain side. 
 Their haughty chief, as captive there detained, 
 A cruel death, avengh.g doom sustauied :- 
 ^or hte he sued, with promise to de])art, 
 But iotmd no pity in the Vandal's heart 
 None ..uld that chieftain in his justice spare,^ 
 troths, Burgundians, Suevi, perished there '-L 
 And other tribes of dire barbarians too, ' 
 Wei-e smitten down where'er his eagles flew. 
 Ut this great host, now shattered by defeat 
 Beyond the Alps a remnant sought retreat.' 
 Then er the Rhine these banded nations rushed 
 And m their fury aU resistance crushed ■- ' 
 Each strong defence which centuries before, 
 Proud Rome had built, and ofttimes did restore. 
 Was broken down, to be rebuilt no more • 
 Chieftams of fame these hordes of conque'st led. 
 Who throughout Gaul yaat desolation spread 
 
 ■I 
 
93 
 
 Fire and carnage, fierce rapine and dismay, 
 O erwhelmed those realms in Rome's declining day • 
 Soft scenes of peace, of splendor and renown, ' 
 
 Where Koman art and Roman wealth had grown, 
 iiy devastation in his cruel wrath. 
 Were all defaced in the destroyer's path. 
 Ihro every region of that famous land, 
 J^or Gaul, nor Roman could his fate withstand • 
 Temples and towers, bright homes of youth and years, 
 in rum lay, were soiled with blood and tears. 
 Whole generations, on that dreadful day, 
 H ere by the sword, by bondage swept away :- 
 ^or age, nor sex, the fierce barbarian spared, 
 But each in turr. his ruthless fury shared. 
 Ihro Rome's vast empire, in that evil hour, 
 . lettered the thrones and fabric of her power •— 
 And the proud tyrants of the ancient world 
 Kept watch by night, with ensigns all unfurled 
 To midnight winds, while lurid and afar, 
 Of her decline shone Rome's prophetic star. 
 Meantime Alaric swayed in wilder scene, 
 By frontier lands, where long his rule had been 
 The River Rhine and Euxine shores between. ' 
 There he assembled fierce, barbarian hosts, 
 With which he hovered near the Roman posts ;~ 
 Hard on the limits of the East and West, 
 And each in turn his cruel arms oppress'd. 
 Till then Stilicho had his course restrained, 
 And sternly neutral he of late remained ; 
 When Rhadagaisus felt the con(iueror's blow, 
 He stood spectator of his overthrow. 
 But the dread Vandal, high in name and worth, 
 The foremost man in the renown of earth, 
 Crowned thro' all time with fame's unfading wreath 
 Had mot perfidious and inglorious death. ' 
 
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94 
 
 'Twas Rome's dcricc, her crinio that one so great, 
 Should fall o'erpowcred by a rival's hate j— 
 That he the last defender of the Land, 
 Should foully perish by asftassin's hand. 
 Yet thus he died, abandoned by that po\^cr, 
 Ills arir. liad saved in fate's ail evil htnir, 
 Olympius still in inmmy should live, 
 And execrated on n>en's lips survive ; — 
 Remembered only by the n^ighty name, 
 Beneath Avhose shadow rots his bli^iiced fame. 
 The watchful guardian of the Romans fell. 
 By tliose his sword had sliielded but too welL 
 Bewildered, hopeless in his hour of need, 
 Soon weak llonorius mourned the cruel deed ; 
 For the great Goth with armed myriads came, 
 And Rome, his victim, wept that day of shame. 
 
 Alaric's words forbearing tone retained, 
 Tho' of deep wrongs that chieftain still complained :— 
 He reached Ravenna, where llonorius now 
 In sloth refused to strike a patriot's blow, 
 To guard the diadem the Ctesar wore. 
 Nor arms, nor succour to the Romans bore. 
 The Goth vain missives to the monarch sent. 
 Then on thro' Umbria with his legions went ; 
 A.nd breathing wrath — despising lesser prey, 
 On Rome advanced by che Flaminian Way. 
 As he drew near with his barbarian host, 
 Thro' famed abodes, which Rome migiit proudly boast 
 Th' Eternal City— Forum of the world. 
 Broke on his view with standards high unfurled. 
 He gazed exulting on that mighty scene. 
 Where Roman gods and heroes long had been ; 
 Whore wealth, where trophies, famous thro' all time, 
 Spoke of the wrongs of many a subject clime. 
 
96 
 
 Archeg stood there, memorials of her fame, 
 
 On which waa Uazoned each barbaric name 
 
 iliat Rome had conquerea i„ hav long career, 
 
 And .red the Gofh to deeds of wrath and fear : 
 
 ilio ,s]„.,la of war from ravaged nations won. 
 
 Attesting well what her proud arms had done. 
 
 Beneath those walls which time's decay had spared, 
 
 lie now encamped, and for the sie.;e prepared. 
 
 A ^VKlowed empire trembled at his feet, 
 
 All unexpectant such a foe to greet. 
 
 Her go.ls were gone, and mightier shrines were there, 
 
 ^ut shielded not, nor soothed her wild despair. 
 
 A thousand years of conquest and command. 
 
 Her sway had borne o'er many a subject land ;— ■•"• ' 
 
 llie earth slie conquered, strewed with hostile bones ' '*'^'''" ''^ ' 
 
 And had grown old upon her hundred thrones :— ' 
 
 And yet the Goth waa not sc dire a foe 
 
 As Kome had vanquished in an hour of woe, 
 
 In her young ^iays, before corruption's bligL: 
 
 Fell on her legions, and her men of might." 
 
 Alaric p;:;used— not so the Gaul? haa dTme, 
 
 In times long gone, when they that course had run • 
 
 These wild barbarians, in their pagan wrath, ' 
 
 Spread fire and slaughter on their fearful path ; 
 
 From icy thresholds of that glorious clime, 
 
 They darkened Italy with many a crime. ' 
 
 The walls of Rome their savage arms surround, 
 
 And patriot Romans, to their country bound, 
 
 No safety sought, save what their valor found, j 
 
 There died the Gauls ;— tho' Rome was wrapp'd in flam' 
 
 The great Camillus' final triumph came. 
 
 This was Rome's glory; and her great career 
 
 Soon taught proud foes her infant strength to fear. 
 
 And now six centuries had passed away, 
 
 Siiice the fierce Hannibal, in proud array, 
 
 c.cj 
 
96 
 
 To Rome liad marclied, displayed his martial pride, 
 But^ paused in doubt by the swift Annio's tide :— 
 Tho' still victorious in each field of fame, 
 Tlio' breathing wrath he straight from Cannic came, 
 The Carthaginian was compelled to halt, 
 Before those ramparts which defied assault. 
 Could none be found like those great men of old, 
 Rome's haughty name and glory to uphold ? 
 To hurl the proud barbarian in dismay. 
 From walls which checked the victor on that day ? 
 Yes some were there ; but her last hour had come, 
 And men were awed by an impending doom. 
 Alaric sued, some say, for peace in vain, 
 Since there encamped for days he did remain ; 
 Till his wild legions and their chieftains too. 
 For the assault to fierce impatience grew. 
 Encompassed round by the barbarian" host. 
 Degenerate Rone gave proof that she had lost 
 The haughty spirit and the dauntless soul. 
 Which breathed defiance and ne'er brooked control ; 
 Which proved the hope forlorn ere made to yield 
 To human foe upon the patriot field. 
 Disease and famine came and dark despair, 
 While youth and age and manhood perished there. 
 Resistance still some feebly sought to make, 
 And oft from dreams and stupor seemed to wake ; 
 Yet many deemed, all hoped, alas ! in vain, 
 That from such crime Alaric would abstain ;— • 
 That his revenge would falter in that hour 
 Of last assault upon the Roman power. 
 
 The sun went down with fi3ry beam that day, 
 And left the earth to darkness and dismay: 
 Vast, lurid clouds obscured the eastern sky, 
 And soon deep night descended from on high ; 
 
97 
 
 A rayless gloom hung in the breathless air, 
 While captive winds their fury all prepare ; 
 Slowly the hum of nations died away 
 On that last night of Rome's imperial sway, 
 And boding tempests weighed on eveiy heart. 
 While commg woe did warning fears in.part. 
 Tis midnight and the seven-crowned city sleeps 
 And his lone watch the Roman soldier keeps, 
 For many a league deep silence reigned around, 
 And earth's repose was startled by no sound. 
 But hark there strikes upon the car of night, 
 The sound of armies gathering in their m?ght, 
 To the assault by warlike chieftains led, 
 Barbarian legions move with measured tread. 
 At every post was placed a veteran guard. 
 Which mounts the ramparts for defence prepared : 
 While round and near soon swept the sava<re foe 
 And sprang with fury from the space below ; ' 
 But Roman legions (some were stationed there) 
 Received the Goth with fierce and stern despair ; 
 The raging myriads, surging to the wall. 
 Encountered swords no danger could appal. 
 Along those proud and vast defences then ' 
 Was heard the clang of arms, the strife of men 
 In deadly conflict ; down the foe was hurled 
 From that last bulwark of the Roman world. 
 On the dark battlements now dyed with blood 
 Victorious still the Roman legions stood. ' 
 But now the Goths, apprized by cruel fate. 
 Impetuous rushed through an unguarded gate. 
 Onward, still onward with loud shouts they bore 
 And all went down that sudden rush before. ' 
 The Gothic trump the city woke from sleep • 
 Men seized their arms and women rose to weep • 
 
 I :. 1 
 
98 
 
 The rushing winds approached with deafening roar, 
 
 And the wild storm resistless fury bore • 
 
 Blazed the red lightning with refulgent flash, 
 
 ihen shot the thunder with o'cnvhelming crash, 
 
 And echoing to the hills, proclaimed aftir 
 
 Ihat Rome had fallen beneath the arm of war. 
 
 ^ar, wild and stci-n, terrific to the last, 
 
 bwept the loud din of conflict on the blast. 
 
 O erpowcred by numbers, but 'mid heaps of slain, 
 
 The legions fought, resisted there in vain. 
 
 ihro rum, carnage, ravage and dismay, 
 
 The towering Goth made his unfaltering way : 
 
 Soon flames broke forth in many a glorious scene, 
 
 Where prmcely homes and fairest hopes had been; 
 
 The wrath of Heaven and the rage of man 
 
 And dread barbarians shouting in the van, 
 
 All mingled there upon that night of doom, 
 
 i^eepemng the terrors of that hideous gloom, 
 
 Beluge of death ! of fire and blood and rain, 
 
 Bhghtmg the victims who might still remain, 
 
 io curse the sun which brought the morning light. 
 
 And mourn thro' years the horrors of that night. 
 
 ihe exulting foe, relentless in his ire, 
 
 Beheld the glories of proud Rome expire • 
 
 Monuments of fame, the trophies of her power 
 
 Of vanished ages the immortal dower ' 
 
 Were buried to earth, were trampled'in the dust, 
 
 With virtue, beauty, victims to man's lust ; 
 
 Handmaids and slaves to cheer the savage mood 
 
 Uf fierce barbarians, drunk with Roman blood. 
 
 The cruel Goth, the child of wilder climes. 
 
 Of wmtry regions, and disastrous times, 
 
 Let loose those passions which appal mankind, 
 
 And leave despair, and nameless woe behind. 
 
99 
 
 Resistance ceased and supplications rose 
 From Roman lips to Rome's unpitying foes, 
 And vows and prayers were wafk-d to the skies, 
 trom captive millions 'neath the conqueror's ey^s. 
 Yet Alanc rescued hy his stern command. 
 Each holy place from their rapacious hand ; 
 Churches and shrines where God was then adored, 
 Were sluelded th.s from the destroving sword, 
 iiut sraokmg ruins and wild cries of woo 
 Attested still the fury of the foe 
 Long Rome had stood, had sway.l thro' many an age, 
 And her bnght deeds have pictured many a page. 
 Barbarians seized her sceptre and her crown ; 
 Her day was done ; and her last sun went down 
 V er wasted realms of empire and renown. 
 On Alanc marched and in Calabria died, 
 ^ut Prince Adolphas soon his place supplied :- 
 He with Honorious first a treaty made. 
 And then to Gaul his martial legions led. 
 Of weak Honorius, at the siege of Rome, 
 A sister loved liad met a captive's doom ' 
 Placidia named ; she with the Goths had gone, 
 Whose courteous bearing gently did atone 
 For outrage offered to illustrious birth, 
 To one renowned for beauty and for worth 
 But on their way, Placidia in her pride, 
 Was by Adolphus made his royal bride 
 In those dark times her noble name appears, 
 Excites to wonder, and then melts to tears • 
 But the young Goth enslaved her tender heart 
 And she to him would Roman thoughts impart.' 
 Then thro' her love, the Goth in deed and name 
 Ihe last defender of her race became. 
 But soon Adolphus slumbered cold and low, 
 In jouth struck down by an assassin's blow. 
 
100 
 
 Then followed wars thro' ravaged Gaul and Spain, 
 "Wliile Rome essayed her sceptre to rcniiii. 
 Europe, Asia, Afric's swarthy climes, 
 And ocean isles, wept those disastrous times. 
 While on the West the shades of night descend, 
 And warring hosts the falling empire rend ;— 
 As fiercer now the raging tempest blow, 
 
 And o'er the earth a thicker darkness grew ; 
 
 As wave on wave of tlie barhnrian flood 
 
 O'erwhelmed the Romans in <lesi)air and blood, 
 
 Britannia ceased Jlome's mandates to obey, 
 
 And slowly drifted from the wreck away. 
 
 The warlike rulers, the imperial force 
 
 Which long had shielded her triumphal course, 
 
 Had been recalled to many a bloody field, 
 
 In Southern lands, ^vherc valor still must yield 
 
 To stem invaders, who in countless hosts, 
 
 Swept o'er fair realms, around immortal coasts, 
 
 WTiere Rome's lost splendor 'neath her sunlit skies 
 
 And starry nights, in time-worn ruin lies. 
 
 Then this fair isle was left to ruder foes, 
 
 Who round her shores from wilder regions close. 
 
 A Rescript came, by whicli her chiefs were taught 
 
 That by themselves their safety must be sought, 
 
 That to protect them on this distant shore, 
 
 The Roman legions could return no more. 
 
 Not by revolt her independence came. 
 
 For Rome no more could her allegiance claim : 
 
 In after times the Romans sent her aid, 
 
 And she in turn Rome's efforts had repaid ; 
 
 'Mid later yeai-s, when other hordes o'erran 
 
 Her prostrate tlirones, and spoiled the works of man, 
 
 The British rulers wariike levies sent 
 
 And to the empire arms and succor lent. 
 
101 
 
 Tho British chiefs, thus left to their own fate, 
 Combined their efforts to defend tiie state : 
 For soon both Piets and Scots the reahn assailed, 
 With hordes of Irish ; oft their anus prevailed. 
 The Roman colonists, lon;^ settled tliere, 
 Stem stru^'gle made in that disastrous war ; 
 They and the Britons mutual succor. sought, 
 And firm, united, with invaders fought ;° 
 Yet both were van(,uished, driven in dismay, 
 By northern tribes, on many a fatiU day. 
 Tlien Vortigeni, his levies put to flight. 
 To aid his arms, the Saxons did invite. 
 Hengist and Horsa, other chieftains too, 
 Assistance gave when perils round him grow ; 
 The Saxons, Angles, Jutes, their struck the same, 
 Irom the dark Cimbrian Chersonesus came; 
 la bands they ravaged every fertile shore, 
 And kindred tribes with them like fury bore. 
 Marauding chiefs, with battle-axe and spear, 
 And blood-red hands, in wrath would oft appear, 
 And round far coasts with pirate scpiadrons steer 
 Giants in form, of savage souls possest, 
 Their depredations other lands infest. 
 For years the Saxons for the Britons fought, 
 But soon rewards and settlements they soug'ht ; 
 To Vortigem they lent their warlike streng^th, ' 
 And Picts and Scots were driven back at Tength. ' 
 'Tis said Rowena, Hengist's beauteous child, 
 Had by her charms the British Prince beguiled : 
 Fair Kent he ceded to the Saxon Prince '^ 
 His trust, his love too blindly to evince : 
 But now long wars, with all their train of woes, 
 Between the Britons and the Saxons rose : 
 The Angles, Jutes soon joined that fearful race, 
 "WTiose deeds of blood thro' dismal times we trace. 
 
102 
 
 In Britain ruled two nations of ronown, 
 And for ifvaat dofdM thro' centuries had been known. 
 The Lo^'rian trihes had swayed the fertile Kast, 
 While the protid Canihriana held the wilder Weat. 
 Between their chiefs, from a^'es then afar, 
 Had Ion;,' prevailed stern rivalry in war : 
 Their cruel strife, in inmiy a hloody scene 
 Of mutual weakness, fatal cause had been. 
 Concjueroi-s fiercer than the lionians' mood, 
 O'erwhelmcd their feuds in rapine, flame, and Mood. 
 For the proud Ida with his Anodes came 
 And set the re^rioi, nnuid the Tweed in flame ; 
 Before his arms the van(iuished Britons fled, 
 While o'er the north his stern dominicm spread. 
 Northumhria there, and there Bernicia lay, • 
 Where dwelt the Britons from an earlier day ; 
 Deira, too, soon yielded to rude foes. 
 And there the kingdom of proud Sella rose : 
 
 An Anglian chieftain, one of great renown. 
 
 Who made that region suhj'ect to his crown. 
 
 Then Cridda came and formed the Mercian state, 
 
 Whose warlike sway far glories did await ; 
 
 Renewed invasions of the Saxon host. 
 
 Swept round the isle, invested every coast ; 
 
 First Kent they made a colony, a home, 
 
 And other tribes invited then to come. 
 
 Fierce Effa, Ella, Cerdic, Kenrick's bands 
 
 Drove the rude natives to remoter lands. 
 
 And other chiefs did south and east despoil, 
 
 And to the Severn held Britannia's soil. 
 
 The Logrian race was vaiKiuished in the east, 
 
 And their wide lands the Saxon now possest. 
 
 Ambrosius first, then other chiefs, in vain 
 
 Thro' that dark period battled to maintain 
 
103 
 
 Tlio British arms victorious oVr the foe 
 
 Who on their country brought sucli houndlcss woo ; 
 
 But these all perished by harl)ariaii iumd, 
 
 And died defendinj!; an exhausted land. 
 
 These heroes slain, the Canihrian kin;,'s assailed, 
 
 Still o'er the Saxons in the field prevailed. 
 
 King Arthur now the Western throne ascends, 
 And meteor light his great career attends ; 
 His country's glory long he had maintained, 
 And hloody battles o'er the Saxon gained. 
 Prolonged resistance ever 'gainst hhn rose. 
 Both from his own and from his country's foes. 
 Carleon sur Usk, fiir famed for splendor then, 
 Was his abode and that of warlike men ; 
 Clime of soft streams, the mountain ond the heath, 
 Which sent her heroes to the field of ieath ; 
 Land of the Cymry, where the tempest roars 
 Thro' wintry nights around her rock-bound shores. 
 Ti'^^es of proud chivalry, heroic deeds. 
 Of Merlin's magic and discordant creeds. 
 Of Lancelot, Gawaine and Caradoc, 
 Of Carduel's glory, and Pendmgon's rock. 
 Weird mystic shadows darkly hang around 
 The grave which he the Cambrian hero found. 
 From wounds he died, 'tis said, in battle-field. 
 Where his own kindred all their hate revealed ; 
 His grave was made, some say, in lonely isle. 
 Between the shores where Bruc's bright waters smile. 
 Thro' many a year his loss the Britons mourn, 
 Thro' many a year they wait for his return ; 
 Yet ho comes not, that prince of knightly fame ; 
 But time and glory have embalmed his name. 
 In dust he sleeps,, 'mid ruins of his race, 
 And history now can scarce his deeds retrace. 
 
104 
 
 He was a light, a hope, in those sad times 
 Of fierce invasion and remorseless crimes. 
 
 This Cambrian hero died upon the soil 
 Ihe Saxons sought to ravage and despoil. 
 
 Romance and history, tales of wonder tell 
 Of Cymnan lands his sword defended well • 
 And how the British monarch warred and c ied 
 Oei-coniely foes his arms so long defied. ' 
 
 And InltT' "'" '"'P' '''' '^'' ^-^'1-^J^^d race, 
 And laid al prostrate, leaving not a trace 
 
 Of Roman life and civilization there, v 
 
 While Roman wealth did like destruction share ( 
 
 S ve what was wrung by rapine from despa ' ) 
 
 The conquered Britons felt their cruel ra^e 
 
 Then in their fury, oft -mid dire alarms, 
 
 They fightmg died by fratricidal arms. 
 
 With carnage strewed o'er mountain, plain and shore 
 
 The soil for years was dyed in human gore. ' 
 
 And heathen darkness settled thro' the land, 
 
 Oer all the rum made by ruthless hand. 
 ^"t carkest hour of still the gloomiest ni^ht 
 
 Precedes the dawn of morn's benignant IHt 
 And longest twilight ushers in the day, ° ' 
 
 That shmes o'er earth with most eff-ulgent ray 
 
 J^Grf '^"^^^'^^*-"^-^^<-fKent^ 
 PopeGregorynowaholymissionsent; 
 The monk Augustine true religion taught, 
 
 1 Chr I ?r "^"' '''''-'' werelrought. 
 A Christian light soon dawned o'er all the ide 
 
 And blest men s souls with gentler ray the hile • 
 
 And n? "' '"' ''''' ''''-' ^-- °f blood ' 
 And pagan error still the truth withstood. 
 
 For proud Bntamiia these were evU times, 
 
 And royal names were stained with fearful crimes 
 
105 
 
 Thro' the eight kingdoms of the Saxon race, 
 
 Were deeds of blood no time could e'er efface : 
 
 Jietween their monarchs cruel wars arose, 
 
 With little respite and with rare respose 
 
 Great numbers perished by assassin's hand, 
 
 And murder, vengeance, prowled o'er all the land : 
 
 let many fell in deeds of arms elate, 
 
 With sword in hand, by less ignoble fate. 
 
 To none m war did Edwin, Oswald, yield, 
 
 Yet these great kings both died on battle-field. 
 
 Ihe famous Penda, warrior of renown, 
 
 The sway extended of the Mercian crown: 
 
 His sword of wrath, and sanguinary soul 
 
 Defied alike all law and all control. 
 
 Far, near, around, he smote both friend and foe 
 
 And filled the realm with havoc, fear and woe • 
 
 But Oswio's arm by Winwyd's glassy stream ' 
 
 bmote the destroyer in his bloody dream. 
 
 Great Penda fled from slaughter and defeat 
 
 All wildly on that first and last retreat : 
 
 But men pursued, -n many a conflict tried, 
 
 Who seized and slew the mighty homicide. 
 
 The Mercian host was swept in blood away. 
 
 And vengeance came for murdered kings that day 
 
 Long years then fled, da-k times of storm and change, 
 
 Of fierce dissension, crimes both wild and strange ° 
 
 After this night of ages thus foriorn. 
 
 Far o'er the land there broke a brighter morn • 
 
 feuch mighty chaos gems of greatness bore, ' 
 
 Long planted there thro' centuries before. ' 
 
 Out of this wreck of creeds o'erwhelmed there, 
 
 Of civilization, nations in despair, 
 
 When time and peace the ruin did repair, 
 
 Three kingdoms rose to past traditions true 
 
 And more united ancient England grew. * 
 
 I 
 
lOG 
 
 Each by great wars, by deeds of wrong defiled, 
 Northumbria, Mcrcia, Wessex, tliey were styled. 
 
 In rude Northurabria'a annals we may find 
 The greatest crimes that desolate mankind : 
 Murder was there, dark perfidy dofonns 
 The early story of that realm of storms. 
 We sicken o'er the tale too often told 
 Of princes slain, of treason fierce and bold : 
 From these wc turn to things of brighter fame, 
 To men, to deeds, which glorify her name. 
 Two pious scholars in those times remote, 
 Upon that land a great renown had brought. 
 Both Bede and Alcuin, natives of that clime, 
 Have left a glory brightning thro' all time ; 
 They stand like beacons on the sullen shore, 
 Where raging billows, midnight tempests, roar. 
 Or like two stars of rays serenely brii'ht 
 Seen in the skies thro' broken clouds of night. 
 The cloud bears on, the heaven is lost to view. 
 The storm descends, but it will vanish too : 
 Yet they shine forth, and they their lessons teach, 
 From heights afar no storms of earth can reach. 
 Thro' Western Europe and with just renown 
 These two great names were well and widely known ; 
 They lived both honored in their day and time, 
 And spread their fame thro' many a distant clime. 
 
 In Mercia then the famous Offa reigned, 
 A great renown his vaUant ; rms attained ; 
 For he was chief of all the Saxon land. 
 And swayed supreme and with a mighty hand ; 
 But awful crimes have clouded his great name, 
 And left a shade upon his lofty fame. 
 Young Ethelbert, who held a humbler sway 
 O'er all East AngUa which ne'er Mercia lay. 
 
107 
 
 Eldrida's hand in honored marria-re sought, 
 
 And to the Princess costly ofFerinif.s hrou'dit. 
 
 The daughter she of Offa tlie renowned, 
 
 Whose name till then with glory had been crowned. 
 
 Within the palace, lured by friendly guise, 
 
 In feasts and merriment the long (lay flies ; 
 
 At midnight' hour, and sunk in youth's repose, 
 
 In death's dull sleep his eyes for ever close. 
 
 He fell a victim to Cyndrida's hate, 
 
 Who later mourned this youth's untimely fate ; 
 
 The fair Eldrida, from that fatal day. 
 
 Within a cloister pined her hopes away. 
 
 And Offa's and Cyndrida's ruthless crimes. 
 
 Have left them infamous to later times. 
 
 In cruel wars that long and fiercely raged, 
 At home, abroad, had Wessex been engaged. 
 'Twere needless here these feats of arms to state, 
 Or fierce revolts, dissensions to relate. 
 It was the land of Cerdic's glorious race. 
 Whose kingly rule thro' ages we may trace ; 
 It shines afar, tho' oft obscured by crimes, 
 Down to King Edward the Confessor's times. 
 The throne now vacant, briefly so remained, 
 But by election soon a monarch reigned ; 
 Brithric the Saxon the high honor won, 
 And his short reign of glory then begun. 
 As youthful scion of great Cerdic's line. 
 Of all the thanes the votes he did combine ; 
 The throne he filled with honor and renown, 
 And shed new lustre on West Sussex crown. 
 His Queen Edburga, whose ambitious soul 
 Swayed Brithric's court with dark, unchecked control, 
 Was Offa'a daughter, and for guilt and shame, 
 To after times hath left a fearful name. 
 
108 
 
 For beauty famed thro' all the Saxon land, 
 
 This Princess slew with a relentless hand 
 
 A noble thane, and Warre the name he bore, 
 
 Who did her consort's warmest friendship share. 
 
 The fair Edburga, roused by jealous ra<^e. 
 
 Did 'gainst hia life in foul design engage ; 
 
 The poisoned wine (but few such deed had dared) 
 
 In golden goblet her own hand prepared. 
 
 To the fair youth, tlie first among the brave. 
 
 The Queen with smiles the fatal potion gave ; 
 
 The princely Brithric with a joyful look, 
 
 The fatal cup from his young favorite took. 
 
 Within the goblet half the whie remained, 
 
 Which to the dregs the youthful monarch drained ; 
 
 The Princess saw, with horror all inert, 
 
 That the dread act slie could not now avert. 
 
 O'er her fair brow, as Brithric gasped for breath, 
 
 A pallor came like hues of early death ; 
 
 Who did the deed, tho' none the truth could tell, 
 
 Yet on the Queen a dire suspicion fell. 
 
 They both had perished by some cruel hand, 
 
 And this proclaimed, she fled her native land. 
 
 From Charlemagne, who ruled o'er mighty states, 
 
 She sriiety sought from stem avenging fates. 
 
 But in a convent by that Prince confined. 
 
 In close seclusion she in secret pined ; 
 
 Still her lost soul no sacred rules could bind. 
 
 Where contrite hearts a blest repentance find. 
 
 Defiant, proud, by passion fiercely swayed. 
 
 The exiled Princess hideous vice displayed ; • 
 
 With spirit broken and with blighted name. 
 
 She was expelled for deeds of foulest shame : 
 
 Without a hope to cheer, or hand to guide, 
 
 Proud Offa's child, by all abandoned, died. 
 
109 
 
 Young E;^l)ort then a Prince of rising fame, 
 Did Cerdic's throne hy right of lineage claim ; 
 A scion ho of that illustrious line, 
 Which (lid far glories of the jiast combine. 
 And Wossex grew beneath his sovereign sway, 
 Which from the first high wisd(.ni did display : 
 And this fair isle by long convulsions torn — 
 By cruel wars divided and foi'lorn, 
 In peace and wealth, in strength and union grew, 
 And this great Prince did England's hopes renew : 
 Fu-st Mercia's king, the warlike and the proud, 
 To the great monarch's firm dominion bowed ; 
 Then wild Northumbria struggled but in vam, 
 It's ancient freedom sternly to regain ; 
 For vast achievements J:g])ert did attend, 
 And o'er all rivals did his rule extend. 
 As King ho reigned o'er all the Saxon land, 
 Which long he governed with sui)reme connnand. 
 ^ Four hundred years and more had rolled away, 
 Since o'er the isle had ceased the lloman sway ; 
 And near as many since the Saxon hosts 
 Disaster spread along these fertile coasts. 
 Ages of woe which scarce could hope inspire, 
 While in that night of man's barbarian ire, 
 Rome's arts had perished to revive no more 
 With their first splendor, on this distant shore. 
 ■Her cities, wealth, her laws, religion too. 
 Lie buried here, as thicker darkness grew. 
 O'er many a land, where once her eagles flew 
 Along the march of her triumphant power, 
 In her aggressive and all-con(iuoring hour. 
 From what disasters, suffering then arose. 
 That light of hope which dawned on Albion's woes ! 
 Cruel ambition, rivalries of race, 
 On history's page in sadness we may trace. 
 
 L 
 
110 
 
 Willie savage hordes, both strong and fierce in war, 
 O'er all the realm their proud dominion bore. 
 But now once more religion's holy light, 
 Dispersed the horrors of that pagan night ; 
 And midst the woes which fell upon those times, 
 Softened the fury of barbarian crimes : 
 And Albion grew united in her strength, 
 And seemed secure in peace, repose at length. 
 
 But now alas ! in warlike hosts appear. 
 The pirate Danes, and fill the land with fear. 
 From snowy wastes on Scandinavian shores. 
 From isles round which the wintry Baltic roars, 
 Like the fierce Saxons of remoter times, 
 These savage warriors sought more genial climes. 
 Borne by their fleets o'er ocean's Avide domain, 
 Those great sea-kings Avide empire did maintain. 
 Long Avith the Saxons bloody wars they wa'ged, 
 And wild adventures all their strength engaged. 
 Against this isle they expeditions made, 
 But for a time invasion had been stayed : 
 To Frcnce and Spain triumphant arms they bore, 
 And round all Europe ravaged every shore. 
 The Mediterranean's fair and afl^luent isles, 
 Where every season in succession smiles. 
 
 And I'ich dominions in Italian climes, 
 
 By them were seized and ruled in later times. 
 
 The south of England they did now assail. 
 
 And in marauding oftimes did prevail. 
 
 At Hergstone Hill, King Egbert met the foe, 
 
 And on that field laid the invader low. 
 
 Victorious there, this great achievement won. 
 
 This monarch died — his long career was run. 
 
 Then Ethelwolf his son the war maintained. 
 
 And bloody battles o'er the Northmen gained. 
 
Ill 
 
 After long years succeasful 'gainst the Dane, 
 This famous Prince, a better world to gain, 
 To Rome repaired, and sought his soul's repose, 
 Of fame forgetful and his comitry's woes. 
 Thence on his way, to Paris being called, 
 Judith he wooed, the child of Charles the Bald. 
 No great achievement marked his later reign, 
 Tho' he too died uncon(iucred by the Dane. 
 Ethelbold his son succeeded to the crown, 
 A man of war and of a vast renown : 
 His father's Queen he sought to make his bride. 
 And he and Judith sacred laws defied. 
 When to these nuptials hope could not attain, 
 Her native land the Princess sought again. 
 But from her father's halls frail Judith^llod, 
 And took a menial, Baldwin, to her bed. 
 The aged king, both daughter and the boy 
 Sought in his wrath to punish or destroy ; 
 But when their capture could not be achieved. 
 Pursuit he ceased— his pardon they received. 
 Then on this Baldwin to avert disgrace, 
 The crown of Flanders he agreed to place ; 
 And from this union in direct descent, 
 Altho' great names had lasting glory lent, 
 The fair Matilda, William's haughty bride, 
 Her lineage drew, and mighty race supplied. 
 And Ethelbold lived glorious thro' his reign, 
 And died in age, still struggling with the Dane. 
 Succeeding him king Ethelbert now reigned, 
 But slight the glory which his sway attained ; 
 And greater woes fell darkly on the land. 
 While this last monarch held supreme command. 
 The pirate Danes invasion did renew, 
 And to these shores fresh hordes oi rapine drew ; 
 
112 
 
 With them came Ludhi-o^' ; then in Moody fi;,'hfc, 
 
 Thi' DaiioM and Saxons iiroved tlicir martial might. 
 
 Tho fierce invadoi's wore compelled to yield, 
 
 And Ludbrog perished — not on hattle-Held. 
 
 To Saxon vengeance ho a victim fell, 
 
 "Which was repaid, — repaid, alas ! too well. 
 
 Then other Danes, fierce sea-kings of renown, 
 
 Assailed the land, assailed each Saxon crown. 
 
 On vengeance bent, the sons of Ludhrog came, 
 
 With rapine seized, destroyed with sword and flame. 
 
 Far o'er the rude and still <livided north. 
 
 These dire barbarians pom-ed their fury forth ; 
 
 By Osbert, Ella, they were soon assailed, 
 
 But in this war the cruel Dane prevailed. 
 
 Near York's great city, on a fatal day. 
 
 They met in battle's dread and stern array : 
 
 Beneath those walls where each the foe had sou-dit. 
 
 Those mighty combatants, to fury wrought, 
 
 Deluged that field of slaughter and renown. 
 
 With I)lood until the summer sun went down. 
 
 By Ella's sword fierce Ludbrog had been slain, 
 
 And now his sons sought vengeance to obtain ; 
 
 The Saxons yielded — Ella then was seized. 
 
 By men whom slaughter had not yet appeased. 
 
 'Twere needless here to pause or to depict 
 
 The cruel death their vengeance did inflict. 
 
 Onward they marched with rapine's deeds of wrath, 
 
 And wide destruction spread upon their j)ath. 
 
 Till Croyland's Abbey pillaged, set on fire, 
 
 Saw reverend monks in agony expire. 
 
 Northumbria first and fertile Morcia then, 
 
 With fair East Anglia, each resists in vain. 
 
 The North they coutpiered, made its soil their own, 
 
 Where Anglian tribes to sway and jjower had grown ; 
 
'Mid smiling lands, and tl 
 
 E'en to the South tl 
 
 113 
 
 iro' oai'h sacred fccno. 
 
 There chm 
 
 loir rava''('s had ho 
 
 on. 
 
 ohos, convents, nmnastrncs Avent d 
 
 Wliere'er the tootstei)S of tl 
 R 
 
 own. 
 
 eir niai'ch were known. 
 
 aj)ine, despair, far o'er the realm they 1 
 And desolation spread from shore to si 
 The cruel Dane with a 
 
 y l)orc, 
 
 lore. 
 
 remorseless hand, 
 Bore fire and sword thro' all the bleeding land 
 On every coast renewed descents were n^-.le. 
 
 Wiiile deeds too 
 
 cruel their revenge displayed. 
 
 Amid those wars which few bright deeds 
 
 Alfred the Great 
 
 atone. 
 
 King Ethelwolf and Queen Osl 
 Whose life of 
 
 iscends the English throne 
 
 •erga s son. 
 
 war, of peril, now begun. 
 
 Of Penda's race whose darl 
 
 renown had spread, 
 
 A lovely daughter the young Prince had wed 
 
 The fair Alswitha, wl 
 
 Iiose all- 
 
 •peerless name, 
 
 Is blended brightly with the hero's fara . 
 Called to the thnjne in dangei-'s darkest hour. 
 
 Soon he confronts the D 
 
 Perils too dire tin 
 
 ane's destroying power 
 
 •0 many a scene he bore. 
 
 While fierce invaders swarmed round every shore. 
 All lay o'orwhelm'd in that woeful day, 
 And yielded slowly to the Northmen's sway. 
 Fresh Danish s<|uadrons with their hosts arrived, 
 Yet England's hopes young Alfred soon revived ; 
 With fierce llalfdcne a battle soon was sought, 
 But fell destruction on his arms was brought. 
 Fierce Gothurn then, Avho long great chieHiad been, 
 With wild ambition stood upon the scene. 
 A thousand perils Alfred's throne surround. 
 Nor for defence could fitting force be found : 
 Retreating first before the furious Dane, 
 Escape be sought, but all his hopes were vain ; 
 
*j?: 
 
 114 
 
 Vanrmlshcd, o'crtlirown l)y a complete defeat, 
 In Ethlingay ho foiuul a safe retreat. 
 Prom this concealment he at len«,'th withdrew, 
 And to his standard faithfid suhjects flew ; 
 % Odun's sword proud Ubho had been slain, 
 And then was seized the banner of the Dane. 
 
 Tiien followed war's dire carna;^c in the field. 
 But to the Dane the Saxon n'er would yield ; 
 At Ethandune, on proud and patriot day, 
 Two mighty armies met in fierce array. 
 Tiie Saxons, Danes, for empire there contend. 
 And to that conflict all their fury lend. 
 Upon a hill king Alfred had arrayed 
 His warlike host, and marshal skiU displayed. 
 A wood far stretching on his guarded rear, 
 
 Affords protection both secure and near : 
 
 The Saxon Prince with anxious look below, 
 
 Views the array of tlic advancing foe. 
 
 From every station on his bloody course, 
 
 The warlike Gothurn called in all his force. 
 
 The day before that mighty conflict there. 
 
 The rival hosts their armed ranks prepare. 
 
 With guards advanced, and thro' the watch of night, 
 
 They silent wait the dread, aj)proaching fight. 
 
 So soon as dawn had broken in the sky, 
 
 Tlieir warlike banners, far as reach of eye, 
 
 Floated aloft the dreadful lines along. 
 
 And bands of heroes round their standards throng. 
 
 With burning ray the summer sun arose. 
 
 O'er fierce, embattled and impatient foes. 
 
 The fiery Gothurn, eager for the fray. 
 
 Made first assault upon that fatal day. 
 
 Against the foe, arrayed in dreadful lines, 
 
 Tiie centre columns he at first combines ; 
 
 r 
 
 ( 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
115 
 
 On^-ard thcjr march with stern atul measured tread, 
 
 lo the assault hy mi-hty chieftains led. 
 
 Soon came the shook ; then rose up-.n the air 
 
 Loud shouts of conflict and of wild despair ; 
 
 The Danes must yield to a still n.i^^htier foe, 
 
 And in disorder sou-ht the i.Iain below. 
 
 Agam renewed, a fierce assault was made, 
 
 Again, again the dread advance was stayed ; 
 
 At length borne down by Alfre.l whore they 'stood, 
 
 The teeming earth was dyed with hun.an blood. 
 
 Awhile both armies held their fiory breath,— 
 
 A pause ensued upon that field of death ; 
 
 Then ranks were closed-stern voiees fill the air. 
 
 And nvmM nations for the shock i)reparc. 
 
 Dread hour of fate : with stern and anxious eye, 
 
 Resolved to conciuer and prepared to die. 
 
 Near England's standard with outstretched hand, 
 
 The Saxon monarch gave his (juick command 
 
 To warlike chieftains, mindful of their woes. 
 
 And bounding now with fury on their foes. 
 
 They meet in slaughter, arms arc dyed with .rorc 
 
 No sound is heard but battle's sullen i-oar ; '^ ' 
 
 The carnage deei)ens, gory heaps lie slain,' 
 
 And boundless horror fills th' ensanguined plain ; 
 
 Direst vengeance, i)atriot hopes, control, 
 
 Alternate sway and fire each Saxon's soul. 
 
 The Danes give way ; their ranks no more* sustain, 
 
 ihat fiery onslaught sought by them in vain. 
 
 Then on their rear, and from his chosen post, 
 
 The English monarch hurls his patriot host. 
 
 Onward they press— stern Gothurn fled away, 
 
 In far retreat upon that dreadful day ; 
 
 The Danes, pursued and slaughtered by the foe 
 
 Repaid in part an age of wrath and woe. ' 
 
 i 
 
IIG 
 
 Tlion jioacc cnfMeil, repose for many a ycur, 
 And Dunes and H.iXui,^ JVuhX s<M.n appear. 
 Great power hy sea, kin- .vlfred did create, 
 And his proud kin;,'doiu raised tnan tiillen stato. 
 Lon^' years elapsed, till llastin-s, a sea-king, 
 Bid on the land renewed disasters hrin;;. 
 The wastin;,' wars whieh desolated Gaul, 
 Causin;; dark ruin, words would not iveall. 
 Threatened the isle with rapine, Hre and Mood, 
 Had not the Saxon well the stonn withstood. 
 From Gallic ports, two pirate sc|uadrons sailed, 
 And o'er the perils of the deep prevailed ; 
 But Alfred foiled them in their dread caieer, 
 Of rava-o, slau^^liter, tinv.' that ni-ht of fear. 
 '■ Fraji- they tied to piila-;e as l.ef.re, 
 But sou;.'lit proud Kn;.dan(l to despoil no more. 
 Great A'lred now had reached innnortal fame, 
 And spread afar the terror of liis name : 
 Old ni years and worn with many a care, 
 His soul he must for other scene i»rejiare ; 
 And then there died a man of lofty mind, 
 Lawgiver, statesman, warrior— all combined. 
 
 Time passed away— the Danes from other lands, 
 As fierce invaders came in pirate hands : 
 Along the sea, around .ach fertile shore. 
 The Northman's fury smote the isle once more ; 
 Till Athelstane, a prince of vast renown, 
 Shed brighter glory on the English crown. 
 The proffered scept?'e of supremo command 
 Was wielded proudly by that warlike hand : 
 Successful wars he waged against the Dane, 
 Who long a bloody contest , 1 maintain. 
 At Brunenburgh, on carna,:re-. >\ . ; MX. 
 The fierce iuvaders were cou.poi!.. ■ to yield. 
 
117 
 
 Those ruthless hordes the furious Aniaff led, 
 A;,Miii3t a foe in deeds of ^lory bred : 
 He met their le;,'ious on that famous day 
 And smote and .swept tlicm with liis sword away : 
 The sun wont (h)wn ii).oii thm -,i>w of Mood, 
 For long tliu Datif Jie Saxon had witlistood. 
 Then king of En-land .vthi-lstano ht-oame, 
 And glorious r. igned with still increasing fame. 
 Illustrious iiionarehs fc.llowcd that great Prhice, 
 Who in the field their valor did evince. 
 Still northern tril)es, invasion did renew, 
 And oft the Saxons Ity their arms o'erthrew. 
 All words were vain to tell what England bore, 
 For like disastei-s ne'er were known before ; 
 Such boundless woes as time could scarce repair, 
 And all the realm was nvrged in dark despair. 
 King Ethelred at length ascends the throne, 
 When darkest perils thro' the land had grown. 
 Vast treasures oft he to the Northmen paid, 
 To purchase peace, that ruin might be stayed ; 
 But soon ensued that deed of guilt and woe, 
 By which the Danes in England were laid low. 
 St. Bridget's day was marked by scenes of blood. 
 Nor thro' all time hath i'ouler record stood. 
 As great communities the Danes were known, 
 And true allegiance to the laws had shown. 
 € 'spite thci) fathers' violence and crimes, 
 " <v generations, thro' succeeding times. 
 Had with the Saxons in communion dwelt. 
 And for the land sincere attachment felt. 
 Now all unarmed and unsuspecting too. 
 These 'gainst their foes the sword of vengeance drew. 
 Nor age nor sex the treacherous Saxon spared, 
 But all alike their ruthless fury shared ; 
 
118 
 
 There perished Palig, Northman of renown, 
 
 A famous traitor to the English cro\vn. 
 
 His beauteous wife, Gunilhda was lier name, 
 
 By her sad doom hath left a peerless fame ; 
 
 The sister she of Sweyn the warlike Dane, 
 
 Who cruel wars in England did maintain :— 
 
 To other lay this mournful tale belongs. 
 
 But fired by vengeance at Gunilhda's wrongs, 
 
 He desolation spread thro' all the land, 
 
 And o'er the realm soon held supreme command. 
 
 At Bath he died in all his pomp and pride, 
 
 While warring hosts the kingdom still divide. 
 
 Long it was bruited that assassin's blow 
 
 That mighty Prince had secretly laid low. 
 
 Canute the Dane, this monarch's famous son. 
 Ills proud career of glory now begun ; 
 King Ethelred, who reigned thro' times of woe, 
 Among dead kings was slumbering cold and low. 
 Ne'er had Britannia such disasters known. 
 As wlion subjected to this monarch'^ crown. 
 Edmund his son was at his death proclaimed. 
 That flmious one who Ironsides was named. 
 'Tween him and Canute, who were ever foes, 
 A bloody contest for the throne arose ; 
 Long wars ensued ; on many a day of fame 
 They each sustained a bright and glorious name. 
 On Sorstcine's field their valor was displayed, 
 And long that conflict was in wrath delayed. ' 
 Two days and nights with boundless carnage there, 
 With fierce ambition, fury and despair, 
 Those warrior kings for empire did contend. 
 And thro' that fight their skill and valor blend. 
 Altho' the Dane sought safety in retreat, 
 From Edmund, he had not sustained defeat. 
 
119 
 
 Tlic war grew fiercer, marked by cruel hate ; 
 But still their fortunes balanced were by fate ; 
 Till that dark day, on Ashdown's field of death, 
 Where Canute won the conqueror's bloody wreath. 
 The moon shone forth in all her tender light, 
 Thro' the long hours, far thro' the azure night. 
 Calm o'er that fatal and ensanguined field, 
 Where to the Dane the Saxon now must yield. 
 The morning came ; to Edmund was revealed 
 What the wild tumult of the night concealed ;— 
 That his great chiefs were strewed upon the plain. 
 All l)urio(l there beneath vast heaps of slain : 
 Mingled with meaner dead their corses lay, 
 The foremost victims of that dreadful- day. 
 Victorious Canute had all foes o'ercome ; 
 And now in England made abiding home. 
 In Olney's isle a peace those Princes made. 
 
 By which the fury of their arms was stayed : 
 
 But hy assassin's blow soon Edmund died ; 
 Then Canute reigned alone in sovereign pride : 
 Of his great race first monarch of the land. 
 He ruled proud England Avith a warrior's hand. 
 Years rolled away, great Canute then became 
 The mightiest ruler of the Danish name ; 
 Anil o'er Avide realms was borne his martial fame. 
 He died ; Harefoot, the fair Elgiva's son. 
 Succeeded him, but slight distinction won. 
 Then Hardicanute, his successor, reigned ; 
 The child of Emma, Avho two thrones had gained. 
 The daughter she, tlu-o' mournful times well known. 
 Of Norman Richard, Prince of vast renown. 
 When Ethelred, the English monarch died. 
 His widowed Queen, soon humbled in her pride, 
 In Normandy did for a time abide. 
 
120 
 
 By Canute's choice tliis Princess had once more, 
 As (^>iu'on of En,!i;hin(l left the Norman shore. 
 Tlio' (loop in nicMnory iniuiy a <.n'iof may dwell, 
 Yet youth, ambition, and the mi.u'hty spell ; — 
 The lurid li;^ht arouml a compieror's throne, 
 Bring other dreams, and melt her heart of stone, 
 And make her soon her first-horn's ri^jht disown. 
 To Ethelred two royal sons she here, — 
 Edward first, tlien Alfred slain before. 
 The former now the En,<j;lish throne ascends. 
 And o'er the realm his ri.iihtful sway extends. 
 From Cerdic's stock this monarch did descend, 
 And in his line did rival races hleml ; 
 The Norman, Saxon, Dane, in him wore found, 
 And names ancestral with bright glory crowned. 
 
 Great Albion ! thus thro' ages of despair. 
 Did woes uninnnbered, boundless perils share. 
 Fierce Marring races, men of many a land. 
 Her soil had trod with stern and high command ; 
 The power of Rome, the arts of Roman life, 
 Had grown, had jlourished on that scene of strife. 
 When these declined, and fierce barbarians came, 
 No trace they left of that all glorious name. 
 Stern, Avarlike sea-kings, and their pirate hosts. 
 Swept like tornadoes round these fertile coasts. 
 Forgotten relics, ashes of the slain 
 Of those who died, alas ! too oft in vain, 
 Lie low entombed on her immortal shores. 
 Where the dark surge of sullen ocean roars. 
 The fierce invader and the patriot sleep, 
 In mingling dust along the hoary deep. 
 They fought, they died thro' rude and wrathful times, 
 And filled the world with echoes of their crimes. 
 Beneath the night of distant ages past. 
 Those giant foea unite in peace at lust. 
 
121 
 
 The 1)1(10(1 tliat mingled in such ieai'ful strifo 
 Has flowotl thro' time to feed a iiohler life, 
 Blending in (nie the valiant and the free 
 Who rule afar the empires of the sea. 
 The tide of life, so proud in England 
 Descends from Briton 
 
 s veins 
 
 IS, Saxons, and the Danes; 
 And Xonnans too, uifuscd in later times, 
 
 Great kindred races from the northern climes, 
 
 Stern, vital energies transmitted down, 
 From stocks ancestral thro' long ages gone. 
 Nor should .ve here o'erlook the greater part, 
 By God's high Avord exerted on the heart. 
 The i)ruid creed an earlv refuse sou-dit. 
 And here the errors of that creed had taught ; 
 Tho' still with ardor they their tenets held, 
 That ancient priesthood were at length expelled 
 By ruthless arms, by deities of Rome, 
 Who votaries found, proud temples and a home. 
 And these in turn recede liefore the light 
 Of Christian truth into eternal ni'dit. 
 Then northern worship, Scandinavian gods. 
 Usurped the faith throughout those famed abodes. 
 The Britons, Romans, Saxons, and the Danes 
 Knelt to dark shrines, adored in idol fanes ; 
 Till the bright sun of revelation shone 
 Far o'er a land of revolutions gone. 
 
I 
 
 V 
 T 
 Ii 
 
I300K FIFTH. 
 
 -AU'iL'.MK.VT. 
 
 "■"r:;;:,;:,:i;r::u::: :;7"'' ^■'" ■■•- ■ 
 
 -'^ •" .!,.<; ; :"^" ":' ^^'^""-"--'- - ...^ ... vi..,,...,. ,..„. 
 
 --> .-..an.,,.. , I': !::;;::; ^";t ' -"•" - ■"• ■"« 
 
 tire to ^ineoiJ.!::^: ::;•;>:'■'' '^^ 
 
 Violont seen,. .... J. „ """^'' """ ""^ ^^""'""-> »' Ox.onJ.- 
 
 Flifil.f or r„sh,f an.l Ins wi' tl„. ,■ / ""-"'Iut-Hh letfor to Haroi.l.- 
 Ka... or Man,,,. .._ . ,s * :';""7;'""""' ^° '"« Court of „a„,wi„, 
 
 words ,0 „is (,„..„. K,Ht,,_„i, „„;;;""«""-'— -n to tUeCrown.-mat 
 
 Duke Harold now, from fatal thraldom free 
 With spreading sail, stood promptly out to Boa':- 
 
 ^;'"":':'^^'"^^'"'--l the Prince again, 
 Withjojtul hearts go forth upon tlK, main. 
 
 Ihe shores recede; the far, unclouded skies 
 In azure ' " 
 
 depth 
 
 grow dim as dayli-dit dies 
 
 M 
 
124 
 
 Myriads of stars come forth upon tlie night, 
 And o'or the world diffuse tlicir tender lidit. 
 Full on their course, the ti-usty vessels keep : 
 Soft, fii'vrinir gales impel them o'er the deep. 
 The laud was gone, and fading to the view, 
 Vagiit', indistinct the dark horizon "-rew. 
 Thru' hours of night, the ships auspicious fly. 
 And steer their course by beacon-lights on high. 
 Then eamo the morn ; still on their way they bore, 
 And ere the night, they touched the English shore. 
 
 Great trials past, with soul infirm sustiuned, 
 Harold at length his native land regained. 
 Rejoicing now secure escape to make, 
 From hostile hands, with life and fame at stake. 
 There dark abyss before each step had yawned, 
 Nor scarce had hope amid those dangers dawned. 
 Power and wiles, with treachery combined, 
 Had awed, subdued his great intrepid mind ; 
 Which ne'er till now had known a human fear, 
 Or once had faltered in his great career. 
 These dire events — the memories of them now 
 Far deeper gloom had stamped upon his brow, 
 And cast o'er all his proudest days to come, 
 Tlic sombre shadows of a nation's doom ; 
 Had brought dishonor on his mighty name, 
 And dinun'd the lustre of his former fame. 
 
 King Edward, anxious eager all to learn. 
 Thro' weary days awaited bis return : 
 And Edith too, Avith fondest sister's love, 
 For him had prayed, to Heaven's great throne abore. 
 
125 
 
 To greet his sovcrei-n Harold now repaired, 
 And without comment the whole truth declared. 
 The Monarch then thus mournfully expressed 
 The -rief profo.md, th. fears within his breast: 
 
 " I knew, alas ! Duke William's hopes too well, 
 And past experience, did these woes foretell. 
 Too much I feared thy journey thus would end; 
 For this I sought another hence to send. 
 Thiic mind astute, amhitious and profound, 
 Was ne'er by honor, or religion bound. 
 Relentless Prince ! long skilled in ev'ry art, 
 That to vast aims doth fatal strength impart ; 
 That oath on relics may not bind thy soul. 
 But o'er thy actions must exert control. 
 Throughout the world, where'er that act is known, 
 Men will proclaim thee false to England's throne, ' 
 And England too, and all the Saxon land. 
 And stamp they name with foul dishonor's brand;— 
 That thou art bound by that strange promise given, 
 And to refuse, would insult be to Heaven. 
 Harold, alas ! I grieve that one renowned. 
 By oath so dire to Norman should be bound, 
 That thou the hero, cliief of all our race, 
 'Mong warlike men, the first in fame and place ; 
 Great England's hope in every hour of need, 
 My own right arm in many a mighty deed ; 
 So great of soul, the bulwark of the state. 
 To be so lost, so bound by adverse fate 1 
 Oh ! Prince foredoomed ! what self-reproach I bear, 
 Within chis breast, so long oppressed with care ! 
 
126 
 
 Why (lid I yield in that ill-iiitcd hour, 
 And send thee victim to the Norman's power ? 
 Ah ! had I then imposed a stern command, 
 And stayed thy footsteps to that iKwtile land, 
 I'd proved my friendship to my race and thee, 
 And kept the sword of En;,dand's hero free. 
 But 'tis too late — unless we can divert 
 This tide of woe, or Heaven's wrath avert. 
 Stigand's deep thought, or Aldred's pious mind, 
 For such dread oath may some deliverance find." 
 
 With mien disturbed, but coiu-agc in his eye, 
 To Eilward Harold made this prompt reply. 
 Tliat mighty Prince, long famed in deeds of Avar, 
 And whose renown shone glorious and afar. 
 With fluent si)cech, with chxpience express'd, 
 The fervent thoughts that glowed within his breast ;- 
 His vivid words without an effort flowed, 
 And shades alike of thought and feeling show'd. 
 He, anxious now, and eager to convince. 
 Did thus the force of sophistry evince : 
 
 " Great King, my error fully I avow, 
 And your grave words are not forgotten now. 
 'Twere needless here to give more full detail 
 Of what occurred ; it could not now avail. 
 My acts are known. 'Tis painful to recall 
 How dread my peril and how great my fall. 
 The Norman Prince received us, as you know, 
 With courteous words, much kindness did bestow. 
 Still more had done : he ample ransom paid, 
 And generous eSbrts for our freedom made. 
 
 ] 
 ] 
 
 I 
 I 
 
127 
 
 From Guj of Ponthieu's dun-cons he rcfleemcd 
 My friends and me, and much incensed he seemed. 
 Then at his court he warm reception ^ave, 
 And us he greeted as becamt} the brave. 
 All eager sou-ht, in kind and courtly way 
 To you, to me, their deference to display ; 
 Of you he spoke in terms of filial love, 
 . While all his acts did wannest friendship prove. 
 Ilim I esteemed for all the love he bore, 
 To you, my sovereign thro' long years before. 
 Our brother Ulf, still absent, exiled there, 
 The fondest object of a mother's prayer ; 
 And Haco to ., the orphan left forlorn. 
 By outlawed father, and to sorrow born, 
 Were objects dear, whose prompt release I sought, 
 And to the Norman freely spoke each thought. 
 Then my firm friends, so numerous and so loved, 
 Who to this journey, for ray sake were moved, 
 All claimed my care, protection strong and sure, 
 And 'gainst all perils I must them secure. 
 Whate'er reproaches on my acts may fall, 
 Tlieir safety nr^w with triumph I recall. 
 Thus time had passed ; and thro' each varied scene, 
 His princely bearing high and true had been. 
 Altho' the Duke my confidence had shared, 
 His vast designs were ne'er to me declared. 
 By word— nor deed, had he his thoughts revealed, 
 At least those hopes in his dark mind concealed. 
 His friendship, glory, courteous acts bespoke, 
 A chief too great, suspicion to awake. 
 
128 
 
 Until tliat night upon St. Michaol's peak, 
 No word of hope, of pltMlgo.s diil ho .spoak. 
 You know how thoughtless, in the fatal hour, 
 I plaooil my froodoin in the Nonnm's power. 
 Thence for my kinsman, for my friends and me, 
 Lay but one path by which we could go free. 
 Remote— surrounded and in durance bound, 
 For them and mo a gloomy dungeon frowned. 
 Could I with Iionor, in that hostile clime, 
 Imperil them without a greater crime ? 
 However mucli my weakness I m:iy grieve, 
 With the fierce Norman, thorn I could not leave. 
 Had I resisted and refused to awear. 
 With me, 'tis certain, they had perished there . 
 To William then a hasty pledge I gave. 
 My friends, my kinsman and myself to save. 
 You know that promise, how I was betrayed 
 In that groat council, where the oath was made. 
 The words pronounced, I ne'er as pled.;e had given, 
 But then constrained, I swore before High Heaven. 
 I deemed the wiles, the force he did employ, 
 Enough that oath to cancel and destroy. 
 If by compulsion— by constraint I swore. 
 What was the sanction such a vow could bear ? 
 That oath in truth, had it been freely made, 
 A horrid crime upon my soul had laid. 
 But fully, firmly still I did believe 
 That from such bond, religion could relieve ; 
 Thus then I doomed, and with this protest swore. 
 Unless approved, my oath no sanction bore, 
 And this to witness, God I did implore. 
 
 I 
 
129 
 
 Not only thus was I compelled to swear, 
 
 IJut a vilo fraud in secret they prepure. 
 
 Those sacred relics, vvhicl that shrh.e concealed, 
 
 Were ne'er to me, till all ton late reveal.-d. 
 
 Had au-ht in view, the fearful truth disch.sed, 
 
 That hones of saints heneath that cloth reposed, 
 
 Ere I had sworn upon that holy shrine, 
 
 I had far sooner lost this life of mine ; 
 
 My frien<ls, my kinsman, all ha<I perished there, 
 
 Ere such foul oath I had heen hrou-ht to swear! 
 
 Coerced, deceived, such vow can never hind, 
 
 Tho' hlame, dishonor it may leave hehind. 
 
 To force was added this perfidious Iraud, 
 
 An act which Normuns scarcely couM applatid : 
 
 These were the wron;,^s l.y William thus imposed. 
 
 Upon a kinsman helpless and ex{)osed. 
 
 In all this work of perfidy and shame, 
 
 Can candid minds my actions lou.lly hhvme ? 
 
 Can holy men, when this foul tale is known. 
 
 And this deception all is fully shown, 
 
 Prompt ahsolution from that pledge withhold, 
 
 Nor rescue honor from a crime so bold ? 
 
 Can any precept in God's law be found. 
 
 Whereby such treason can, in truth, be bound ? 
 
 If fraud and force be in his acts combined. 
 
 Is there an oath, my forced assent can bitul ? 
 
 Treason's accursed in every place and time. 
 
 Nor can an oath e'er sanctify a crime. 
 
 If so, the laws which guide the faith of men, 
 
 Are sent and taught to all our race in vain. 
 
130 
 
 Mail's moral scnac such do^^ma would impeach ; 
 Our ^rcat divinus would not such doctrine teach. 
 Be>(ide."( I've sworn alle;^iance to a foo, 
 Of you and Kn;^land, as you both sliouid know. 
 The Norman waits for your demise alone, 
 And seeks assistance, ere your life ho <^one. 
 To wade thro' blood to En;^Ian(rs mighty throne. 
 lie grows impatient for the fatal hour, 
 Which may subject the kin;,'dom to his power. 
 Deep plans are formed the Island to invade. 
 Before your choice can yet be freely made. 
 He hopes ere lonj,' your vacant throne to fill, 
 Wbate'er the purport of your royal will. 
 Also diMpite youn-,' Ed;,'ar's better claims, 
 So ruthless he in his ambitious aims." 
 
 To whom thus E«lvvard : " All tliou hast declared 
 In i)art removes the fears which I have shared. 
 The Norman's baseness all unmasked a[)pears. 
 
 But his designs still more excite my fears. 
 
 Yet may we hope ; not yet art thou so bound. 
 
 That from thy oath no rescue may be found." 
 The fair Queen Edith much this brother loved. 
 
 And these events her heart had greatly moved. 
 
 That generous Prince, firm friend of many a year. 
 
 To her had been, above all others, dear. 
 
 Tostig liad once her gentle spirit swayed, 
 
 And by dark deed, that sister had betrayed. 
 
 'Twas a sad tale — perchance she was to blame. 
 
 For stain it left upon her peerless fame. 
 
181 
 
 With mind adorned, with forjn and aspect fair, 
 Like Honio hri-ht Hower, she l.l.mnio.l and failed thcro. 
 Mild as she was and free from worldly art, 
 Shu well had -ueased the hopes of William's heart. 
 Her brother now she views with saddened l.row, 
 Wliile from her lips theso falterini; accents flow: 
 ^ " My brother loved, the Norman much, I fear,— • 
 For his designs are now, alas ! too clear. 
 When last I saw him on our fated shore, 
 An as{)ect stern and thoughtful looks he wore : 
 Empiiries strange and many then he made, 
 And converse held with men of every grade. 
 Wesaw hira smile, discourse in lordly tone, 
 "-•^^Ipl^owu as if the kingdom were his own. 
 HisNorman fav'rites, in their ram;)ant pride, 
 Sought by intrigue proud sway on every side. 
 Our father Godwin no'er concealed his fears, 
 His words prophetic still are in my ears : 
 His mind sagacious knew him for a foe, 
 Whose fierce amMtiou augur'd future woe. 
 Alas ! my brother, more then ever dear, 
 How dread thy perils to my mind appear ! 
 And yet that vow, which naught may now repair, 
 Wert thou coin^iollod, that fearful oath to swear ? 
 And how could force, a man of warlike fame, 
 Impel to act of deep aul lasting shamo ? 
 And can a sanction, sacred e'er be borne. 
 By act of treason, such as thou hist sworn ? 
 My mighty brother, ome so famjd in war. 
 Erst England's hope, but now hor fading star ! 
 
132 
 
 What cruel fate, what fiendlike force, desi 
 Constrain^;! t!iU d.>e_l, tliis oath 
 
 ^n, 
 
 And Uifnot h3ro! 
 
 acours; of thino? 
 
 our brofchor foa l\y lovred 
 
 And from hi. homo, s:> hw^, s. far roino.ed ' 
 Will h3 return 't And wh.n will ,huvn the hour 
 Of his release f.o.u William', h ited power ? 
 Must he remain a victim to despair, 
 And pass his d.iys in sorrow, exile there ? 
 Much I deplore th' events tnou dost relate ; 
 They seem portentous of groat E i^^iand's fate." 
 
 Gently, P..iac3lItroldtot!uQiecn replied, 
 And sou,,rht his an,Mish, by thes. words to hide : 
 
 " Sister beloved, let not tho^e fears prevail ; 
 Regrets so bitter cannot now avail. 
 The day of d m ,'er must bo still remote ; 
 
 To meet thith.ur, our safety to promote, 
 Each sure defence that foresight can prepare, 
 To shield the throne, our country to secure, 
 Will be my care, my duty to fulfil, 
 If so directed by my sovereign's will. 
 'Tis true I've sworn, but England still is free, 
 To foil invasion both on land and sea. 
 And yet so long as I a soldier live, 
 My life for England I will freely give. 
 If fate decree that I my life should yield, 
 To fierce invadars on some hard-fought fi'eld, 
 I'll fall surrounded by the free, the brave 
 And fial, perchinae, a hero's death and grave 
 Should I receive the monarch's high command, 
 To lead his armies and defend the land • 
 
•^ 
 
 133 
 
 Should the proud Norraan ever claim his throne, 
 I'll seek my fault, my weakness to atone : 
 We from our shores, will the invader sweep. 
 And drive his legions to the wasting deep. 
 Ulf will return to find secure repose. 
 From William's wrongs ; an end to all his woes." 
 
 Short pause ensued ; and noae the silence broke, 
 Until the King these words impressive spoke : 
 
 " 'Twere now in vain to dwell upon the past. 
 Or scenes retrace, by shadows dark o'ercast. 
 Should dire invasion menace our fair shores, 
 And bring its perils to our very doors : 
 Should foes escape the fleets around our coasts. 
 They'll meet in arms proud England's martial hosts. 
 But, noble Prince, events now loudly call, 
 For council grave and loyal aid of all. 
 Oft thou hast gained the nation's, my applause, 
 For high devotion to thy country's cause ; 
 And in this hour of danger to the throne. 
 To thee I look ; I count on thee alone. 
 Far in the north, wh^re rude Nirthumbria lies, 
 A rebel force all rule and law defies : 
 Tostig, our brother, baiishe 1 th9nc3 hath been, 
 And cruel outrage marks each troubled scene. 
 They of young Morcar have election made, 
 Earl of Northurabrla, in our brother's stead. 
 The Royal power has there been overthrown. 
 And lawless subjects ray just rule disown. 
 There dangers rise : Tostig demands our aid, 
 And he is lost, if succoui' be delayed. 
 
134 
 
 "■■ 'S 
 
 With all my forces at thy great command, 
 Soon must thy arms this fierce revolt withstand." 
 
 To whom thus Harold :—'• Mine 'tis to obey, 
 And in such cause, my fealty to display. 
 The law, great Kiug, my first devotion claims. 
 And so of all, whom now your wisdom names 
 To such high trust — great honour from your hand, 
 First to repress revolt througliout the land. 
 My brother next, my firm support Avill find. 
 In this great duty, to my sword assigned." 
 
 Her grief assuagei by Harold's safe return, 
 Still long and deeply did Queen Edith mourn. 
 And with her brother, converse oft she held. 
 Of all he did, ha I suffered and beheld, 
 In that far land, Avhere he so long had strayed, 
 And where by William he had been betrayed. 
 Oft on young Ulf her tender accents fell, 
 And oft bewailed that exile borne so well. 
 Much did she brood in fear, o'er time to come. 
 In thought prophetic of mysterious doom ; 
 Misgivings then and monitors too true, 
 Of threatening perils, which around them grew. 
 These grieved her soul, her miud with gloom oppress'd, 
 Darkened her days and broke her midnight rest. 
 The daughter she of Godwin the renowned. 
 Whose glorious deeds on many a page are found. 
 Long famed in peace and great in deeds of war, 
 'Mong Saxons, Danes, on Norway's shores afar, 
 'Mid scenes of glory that proud name appears, 
 Tho' doubtful deeds hung o'er his later years. 
 
i;j5 
 
 The founder he of an illustrious race, 
 Whose mournful fate this humble page will trace. 
 And whence that Godwin, whose immortal name, 
 Shines fiercely bright in England's early fame ? 
 Here let mo pause and with my verse entwine 
 The far traditions of his lofty hne ; 
 'Twill form the prelude to that final doom, 
 Which swept his o.Tspring to untim3ly tomb. 
 
 'Twas night once more on Sorstoine's field of blood, 
 'Mid scenes of woe two mighty monarchs stood. 
 Camite and Edmund, with their martial hosts, 
 During two days of carnage kept their posts. 
 Nor Dane, nor Saxon, could advantage gain, 
 While thousands there lay ghastly on the plain. 
 And weltering squadrons slept among the slain. 
 The second day had sunk 'mid golden li.rht. 
 And with first shades of the descendin^r ni"ht 
 Had ended then that world-renowned fight. 
 The conflict o'er, the Danish legions fled. 
 And left to vultures, beasts of prey their dead. 
 WiMi shattered hosts, at midnight's silent hour. 
 The foe escaped from Edmund's weakened power. 
 And warlike Canute from that field of death. 
 To London marched with still-increasing wrath. 
 One noble Dane, and Ulf the name ho bore, 
 In a deep wood, ere that dark day was o'er, 
 In rapid flight pursued had lost his way ; 
 And wandered there till the decline of day. 
 The night came on, until the morning l)eam, 
 Ulf strays alone thro' deU and by the stream. 
 
13(5 
 
 Slow breaks the dawn, the fielda with dew are wet, 
 And in the skies some stars arc shininj^ yet ; 
 While far around the echoes of the morn, 
 By wakciiin.j; winds are o'er the landscape borne. 
 The Danisli chieftain, in a doubtful rai)od, 
 At that sweet hour by tlie dark forest stood. 
 With anxious look the region round he eyed. 
 At length a shepherd near the s;))t he spied: 
 In humble garb, but of commanding mien, 
 With grazing flocks the Saxon youth was seen. 
 Iiini Ulf accosts and courteous bearing shows, 
 And asks hi.-? name, if such ho would disclose. 
 To liim the sbeplierd ready answer made. 
 While his brief words a spirit prompt displayed : 
 
 " Tliey call mo Godwin, — such the name I bear, 
 I'm Wuluoth's son — my humble home is near : 
 But thou art one a Saxon well should know, 
 A Prince, ci' chieftain of Our Danish foe." 
 
 To him the Dane : " Brave, and ingenuous youth. 
 In what thou sayest thy words declare the truth. 
 Against thy country arms I long have borne, 
 And to thy race have war and con(|uest sworn. 
 High stood my name and great was the command 
 My sword maintained against the Saxon land. 
 Thus thee I trust- canst thou to me disclose 
 What distance hence the River Severn flows. 
 And where our fleet, safe from the raging winds, 
 Beneath its shores a present refuge finds ? 
 Lies there a way by which those ships to join, 
 Or must I here a wanderer still remain ? " 
 
 m 
 
T.. AvlH.m young Godwin : " Can Danish chief helievc, 
 Tliar he from Saxon succour should receive ? 
 Bost thou not know that thy .^rvM kin- ],ath fled, 
 From battle field, where may a Dane lies dead ? 
 Tho' thou hast wandered thn.' the dreary ni-ht, 
 Short is the distance measured in tliy flight. 
 Across the forest, a few stejis woidd bring, 
 Thee, mighty Prince, a captive to our king." 
 
 When thus the Dane : - Thy words, fah- youth, are just, 
 Yet thou seem'st one whom kings might v.isely trust. 
 There is a light upon thy stainless brow, 
 Such as jii-oud destinies alone bestow. 
 Learn first, my boy, the secret of my name, 
 One thou hast lieard, long heralded by lame. 
 
 Among thy people, and in many a scene. 
 
 The name of Ulf long since proclaimed hath been. 
 
 Next to l^ng Canute, I the Danish power 
 
 Have proudly wielded to this fatal hour. 
 
 On yester eve, before the sun had set, 
 
 King Edmund we in final conflict met ; 
 
 With chosen band and sudden on his rear, 
 
 I with my Danes from ambush close appear, 
 
 The warlike monarch, with selected force. 
 
 Confronts my squadrons and arrests my course. 
 
 Fierce, sharp and wild the bloody combat rose, 
 
 But soon we fled, o^erwhelm'd by our foes. 
 
 I rode for life, till yonder wood I gained : 
 
 I leaped to earth— my war-horse there remained ; 
 
 I fled pursued— but found no refuge near, 
 
 Tho' lost my way in forest wild and drear. 
 
138 
 
 And then to sliicld mc from pursuing wrath 
 Deep sliades of niglit fell thick upon my path. 
 If, as thou sayest, the Danish King hath fled, 
 He was defeated and he deems me dead. 
 Since mc to Canute closest alliance hinds, 
 VVithin his heart a place my m3mory finds; 
 Great the reward that monarch would bestow 
 On him who would procure me safety now; 
 And thou art young, and in thy fearless eye, 
 There beams a.spirit, which will bear thee high. 
 Thy fields ronounca, my footsteps hence direct, 
 And tlicn from mj, high recompense expect. 
 Quick point the way, and lead where I may find 
 Great Canute's camp, and I myself will bind 
 To be thy friend throug'i every future day, 
 When thy career shall glorious deeds display." 
 
 To him the Saxon : " That way, great Dane, is long ; 
 To guide thee hence would be disloyal, wroni'. 
 And great would prove the dangers on our path 
 Pursued, nay hunted, by the peasants, wrath. 
 The people proud of victory now obtained, 
 Close watch for Dane is everywhere maintained • 
 No mercy would, or could they now extend , 
 Nor 'gainst their hate, could I thy life defend. 
 And yet 'twere hard, since thou dost thus confide, 
 Aid to refuse thee as a faithful guide." ' 
 
 Here the great Dane quick from his finger brou-'ht 
 A signet-ring in jewelled radiance wrought, 
 Which he to Godwin as a token gave. 
 Who eyed the Prince with aspect cold and grave 
 
130 
 
 Then brief inspection of the diamond made, 
 It he restored, and coldly to him said : 
 
 " Not so, proud Dane ; great, mighty as thou art, 
 Think not by bribes to gain a Saxon's heart ; 
 For not from foe will I such mede receive, 
 But counsel take, if thee I can relieve 
 From present perils, which thy life surround, 
 And guide thee whor. thy sov'reign may be found. 
 Come to my father's house in yonder vale. 
 And tarry there, till shades of night prevail." 
 The Dane consented, Godwin led the way. 
 Along a path which by the forest lay: 
 The aged Wulnoth doubtful greeting gave. 
 To the great chief, whom Godwin sought to save. 
 But when the youth had all the truth revealed, 
 Nor from his father his design concealed. 
 He breathed those hopes, which in his bosom grew, 
 As to his mind the future rose to view ; 
 The sire reproved what the fair boy had done, 
 And thus to him in mild reproof begun ; 
 
 " My thoughtless son, this heedless act of thine 
 Reproof deserves, destroys each hope of mine. 
 Ah ! how couldst thou give aid unto a Dane, 
 And thus awaken all my woes again. 
 This famous chief, thus wandering here and lost, 
 At thy request our threshold thus nath cross'd. ' 
 By holiest law, my honor now is bound. 
 To give protection to a foe so found. 
 Should I dismiss him on his way alone, 
 He'U surely perish, ere a day be gone : 
 
 N 
 
140 
 
 If he reinain, despite all close disguise, 
 To us, to liim, {^reat dan;;ers may arise. 
 How of this Dane, can we henceforth dispose, 
 Nor of our friends make fierce and deadly foes? 
 What course pursue (juick let thy words declare, 
 To rescue him — this evil to repair." 
 
 " Let mc, my fivther, be this Chieftain's guide, 
 Promi)tly young Godwin to his sire replied ; 
 And sure I am, thro' influence of the Dane, 
 To great King Canute free access to gain : 
 Our fallen fortunes I Avill then retrieve. 
 And wrongs redress, your lot hath been to grieve." 
 
 Then the great hopes, he for that child posscst. 
 All cold reserve, subdued within his breast. 
 Discourse he held and passing comment made, 
 On fell designs, by Canute long betrayed. 
 The Dane was pliant, candid with his host. 
 And he in turn was courteous to his guest. 
 The day he passed in Wulnoth's humble home. 
 Prepared to leave, when evening hour should come. 
 Night came at length, then each with anxious heart. 
 The Dane with Godwin, hastened to depart. 
 Then aged Wulnoth to the chieftain said. 
 While on his arm a friendly hand he laid : 
 
 " Know that to thee my son I thus confide, 
 Thy steps thro' dangers dark, unknown to guide. 
 Trust to the boy, a prompt, sagacious mind. 
 And dauntless heart, in peril thou wouldst find. 
 Henceforth for him, no safety will remain, 
 Should he return unto his home again. 
 
 
141 
 
 By the rude hands of his own friends he'd die, 
 If It were known, he aided Dane to i\y. 
 Near tliy great King, let him have access free, 
 And may he find a faithful friend in thee. 
 Tho' to my heart this noble child be dear 
 I Jv-now his fitness for a great career ; 
 In public councils or on fields of fame, 
 • He yet may win a high and glorious Jame." 
 
 Ulf pledged his faith, and passed his word for more, 
 And great the fruits, that word of promise bore. 
 To Godwin then the anxious father t.imed, 
 Said brief adieu and thus the stripling warned • 
 
 " Godwin, my child, my latest hope, my pride, 
 May Heaven bless thee and thy footsteps guide. 
 Iho dangers wait and snares thy path surround. 
 Let honor, courage in each act be found. 
 Be true, be loyal, sacred be thy word • 
 Firm be thy faith, and bright as hero's sword. 
 The noble trust this Dane hath placed in thee, 
 In all fulfil, and honored thou shalt be 
 Now both adieu ! God speed you on your way, 
 And shield my Godwin thro' each future day." 
 
 The father then his weeping son embraced. 
 Whose footsteps thence were ne'er to be retraced. 
 Quick they went forth, and many a peril past. 
 They both in safety reached the camp at last. 
 Canute near London lay with all his force, 
 And there encamped, had paused upon his course. 
 When Ulf the Dane, safe at the camp arrived, 
 By Godwin's aid, and foeman's wrath survived 
 
 
142 
 
 
 He on a scat, the highest by his side, 
 
 Caused to sit down his youtlil'ul Saxon guide. 
 
 As his own son he place of honor jL^ave, 
 
 To one so true, sagacious, and so brave. 
 
 This chieftain long in foremost grandeur shone^ 
 
 And had his place near Canute's mighty throne : 
 
 And when the monarch greeted his return, 
 
 Ho eager sought his kinsman's tale to learn. 
 
 Then Ulf, the Dane, did joyfully relate. 
 
 What might have been and what had been his fate. 
 
 That to young Godwin, and to him alone, 
 
 And the devotion which tlie boy had shown. 
 
 His life he owed. Then asked the Danish King, 
 
 That to his sovereign he the youth might bring. 
 
 Canute commanded that the guide bo brought, 
 
 And (luickly Ulf the Saxon shepherd sought: 
 
 And when he came, no youth had Canute seen, 
 
 Of nobler aspect, or of brighter mien. 
 
 He was addressed in many a gracious word, 
 
 And in Ulf's wish, the Danish Prince concurred. 
 
 To posts of honor, Godwin boon attained. 
 
 And in each trust a steadfast course maintained* 
 
 Years passed away ; the Saxon peasant won 
 
 The brightest fame for deeds of glory done. 
 
 Chief of vast power, of high and warlike fame, 
 
 Of regions wide the ruler he became. 
 
 Well skilled in war, but more in arts of peace, 
 
 He ever sought his power to increase. 
 
 Him Canute trusted in a great career, 
 
 And of his realm made him a mighty peer. 
 
143 
 
 
 Godwin became in days of his renown, 
 
 The chief support of Canute's j,'loriou8 crown. 
 
 That monarch's sister Thyra first he wed ; 
 
 Lilt soon that Princess sluml)ered with the dead. 
 
 In after times deep censures were aroused, 
 
 For Canute's niece, young Githa he espoused. 
 
 And from this union, sons and daughters sprung, 
 
 The noblest, fairest of the land amon'»: — 
 
 Offspring renowned, once England's hope and boast, 
 
 A mighty race, with Saxon empire lost. 
 
 The eldest Sweyn, and long his father's pride, 
 Had all restraint and every law defied. 
 Flagitious life, opprobrium of his time. 
 And later known for many a for.rful crime. 
 Foul rape and murder sullied his fair name, 
 And left dark records of his guilt and shame. 
 A wanderer he, an outlaw oft reprieved, 
 In foreign lands an outcast he had lived. 
 His 1 onor lost, a pilgrim he had gone 
 To the far East, and there had died alone. 
 'Ine youthful llaco was his son ; but he. 
 Unlike his sire, was from dark vices free. 
 Came Harold next, the mightiest of his race. 
 Whose bright career, such great events embrace. 
 Ill-fated Prince ! the Saxon's proudest hope, 
 A hero formed with England's foes to cope. 
 He fighting sunk beneath a conqueror's power, 
 With glory brightening o'er his dying hour. 
 Him Tostig followed : one of strange compound ; 
 And scarce could soul, more rude or fierce be found. 
 
144 
 
 Proiul, revengeful, turbulent he grow, 
 
 And on his country, dire disasters drew. 
 
 For noted beatity, and for courtly grace, 
 
 He far surpassed most men of Saxon race. 
 
 Fair Edith next — King Edward's peerless Queen, 
 
 Whose worth and beauty, long renowned had been. 
 
 Then followed Gurth, a man of purest fame, 
 
 A valiant prince who left a deathless name. 
 
 A nobler heart, and one from guile more free. 
 
 In breast ne'er beat, nor greater soul could bo. 
 
 Next Lcofwin, the beautiful the brave : — 
 
 They early died ; for both had hoped to save, 
 
 Great Harold's crown in battle's fierce array, 
 
 And fighting fell on Hastings' fatal day. 
 
 Then he — whom Harold, in an evil hour, 
 
 Had sought to rescue from the Norman's power. 
 
 This fate denied, and Ulf a victim fell. 
 
 To cruel bondage claimed, enforced too well. 
 
 And last Elberga, lovely as a beam, 
 
 By Hesperus shed upon a lover's dream. 
 
 In youth she died — in the bright, opening morn 
 
 Of life's sweet day, by sorrow still unworn. 
 
 Godwin in time, tho' friendly to the Dane, 
 Did o'er the Saxons, lasting influence gain. 
 When Canute died, by conduct wise and bold. 
 Upon their thrones his sons he did uphold. 
 When these were gone whom he so often blamed, 
 True to his race. King Edward he proclaimed. 
 And in the end, both Danes and Normans learned 
 How proud the spirit which within him burned. 
 
14o 
 
 When thoy had sought to hriiii,' the Saxon low, 
 
 To both ho proved a stern, reU-nth'ss foe. 
 
 Long ho was charged, thro' dark and stormy times, 
 
 With fierce ambition and appalling crimes : 
 
 And wrathful men o'er his fair fame have strewed 
 
 Wild tales of treason, treachery and blood : 
 
 But he still triumjihcd thro' each evil day, 
 
 And brightly shone upon his meteor way. 
 
 He died in glory, great and full of years : 
 
 So in the past his famous name appears. 
 
 King Edward's orders to the Prince conveyed, 
 Were pr(.;a[)tly all and loyally obeyed. 
 Brief time waits Harold ; at an early day, 
 With veteran troops, he hastens on his way. 
 Still couriers came wUh startling news to tell, 
 Of all that Tostig and his Thanes befel. 
 On Harold marched, with all his patriot force, 
 To crush foul treason in its lawless course. 
 He to Northampton straight his army led, 
 Where Danish rebels from the North had sped. 
 Two famous Earls, Edwin and Mon-ar, both. 
 With hurried march, advanced upon the south. 
 So soon as both those armies 'ame in view. 
 The northern Chieftains sought an interview. 
 This being granted, they at once declared 
 Each grievance past ; for what they stood prepared. 
 Harold in arms, surrounded by his guards, 
 The chiefs received, and spoke reproving words : 
 
 " What means this tumult ? what this bold revolt 
 Against your king ? Is he forsooth in fault? 
 
146 
 
 Are these the acts hy which you would repay 
 
 A partial monarch's mild, indulgent sway ? 
 
 Does Tostig too, your ruler and your prince, 
 
 Such wrongful sway, such tyranny evince, 
 
 That he is banished, with an outlaw's name, 
 
 And in his place, another you proclaim ? 
 
 Why do foul murders meet with loud applause ? 
 
 Are you in arms to vindicate the laws ? 
 
 Sent by your sovreign I must now enquire. 
 
 Why you rebel, and what your chiefs require. 
 
 Your wrongs make known, explain these deeds of blood, 
 
 And why your Prince in arras you have withstood." 
 
 Earl Oswald here, a great and viiliant Dane, 
 And of Northumbria a renowned Thane, 
 Who 'gainst Earl Tostig had the staiidard raised 
 Of fierce revolt, and had his castle seized. 
 With Harold's order, grave and stern, complied, 
 And to the Prince in accents finn replied : 
 
 " Illustrious Prince, you bid us here declare, 
 Of this revolt what the chief motives are : 
 Ere I proceed these motives to explain. 
 Brief words now hear, nor let me speak in vain. 
 Whate'er incentives in our acts prevail. 
 This wide revolt, we each, we all bewail. 
 Tho' thro' the land, disorder, blood is rife, 
 And late events portend appreaching strife ; 
 Yet not a voice against tlie King is raised ; 
 But wide and far his rule is freely praised. 
 A nobler monarch never filled a thx*one, 
 To guard his life we'd sacrifice our own. 
 
147 
 
 We proffer you renewed allegiance here, 
 And this to him, we pray you hence to bear. 
 From hira we hoped and marched to seek redress 
 For not in vain, but ever with success, 
 Appeals to him for justice have been made ; 
 Your presence here hath still his care displayed. 
 Whate'er our faults, this crime we now disown, 
 And boast our fealty to our sovereign's crown. 
 When Siward died, this great Northumbrian land 
 Was all transferred to Tostig's high command. 
 To this selection, by our monarch's will. 
 The northern Thanes show'd their submission still. 
 But this Earl Tostig hath a tyrant grown, 
 And for his crimes, hath thus been overthrown. 
 Such wild misrule he has of late displayed ; 
 So much he sought our honor to degrade. 
 That all forbearance on our part hath ceased, 
 And from his rule we pray to be released. 
 Rapacious taxes without law imposed, 
 By force are levied and by him disposed. 
 He on our country hath disasters brought. 
 And crime incites, both here and at the court. 
 Blood dripping murder and foul deeds proclaim, 
 Our cruel wrongs, and his eternal shame. 
 Our boast is freedom, well our rights we know, 
 And to his rule we ne'er our heads will bow. 
 This tyrant's way we are resolved to brave, 
 And from your hands another ruler crave. 
 This end attained, our arms we lay aside. 
 And by your choice, we're willing to abide. 
 
148 
 
 Mean time Earl Morcar by election stands, 
 
 Our rightful chief; to him give your commands." 
 
 To him thus Harold — " Much your acts I blame, 
 
 And more that they are sanctioned by thy name. 
 
 If as you say much cruelties abound, 
 
 For Tostig's crimes could no redress be found, 
 
 But foul faced treason, overthrowing law, 
 
 Which your allegiance from the throne withdraw, 
 
 Spreading dismay, and rapine thro' the land. 
 
 With hideous murder, fruits of your command ? 
 
 Yet if these wrongs be proved as partly true. 
 
 And hence in arms rebellion you pursue. 
 
 At once withdraw, and to your homes return. 
 
 Till by enquiry all the truth I learn. 
 
 Let order reign while I secure you peace. 
 
 Let every outrage and disorder cease. 
 
 Till I a full investigation make. 
 
 And thereupon, our sovereign's orders take. 
 
 My duty first is Tostig now to see, 
 
 And learn from him what his defence may be : 
 
 After some days an answer I will give, 
 
 Till then may you in peace and safety live." 
 
 With all their force, the northern Earls retired, 
 Tho' doubtful hopes Prince Harold had inspired. 
 To Lincoln then the rebels thence withdrew. 
 Nor arm'd revolt sought henceforth to renew. 
 From Harold straight a messenger was sent. 
 By whom his orders to Earl Tostig went. 
 The Prince at Oxford this sure missive found, 
 Where he by orders to remain was bound. 
 
149 
 
 And now required to come without delav, 
 And meet Prince Harold at the earliest day. 
 Tostig obeyed and soon his brother joined, 
 Who, tho' dismayed, to aid him was inclined : * 
 Their greetings o'er, the brothers then alone. 
 Discourse began with kind familiar tone. 
 And first his brother, Harold thus addressed, 
 While deep emotion rose within his breast : 
 
 " This interview, my brother, I have sought, 
 Gneved by rebellion which great strife has brought 
 On that proud land, long subject to thy sway, 
 Now corn and bleeding on this wrathf ^ day. 
 Here we are brothers, thou th- ' gs declare, 
 And aU relate, while I each th..^..c may share. 
 These rebels have some fair excuses shown. 
 And they, meantime, have from this place withdrawn. 
 Now lend thy ear to the great wrongs they plead. 
 Caused, as they say, by many a cruel deed. 
 The warlike leaders of this great revolt 
 The cause to thee ascribe, say thine's the fault. 
 'Tis urged that taxes, without law enforced. 
 Of all these grievances, are not the worst ; 
 That blood of Thanes and chieftains of renown, 
 The seeds of vengeance thro' the land have sown ; 
 And that, in truth, thou sternly hast of late. 
 With tyrant hand ruled the Northumbrian state. 
 This is not true ! are fierce complaints like these 
 Well or ill founded ? that I may appease 
 This insurrection, ere it grow too high, 
 The truth declare— on me thou mayest rely." 
 
150 
 
 Then Tostigthus— « Harold, in vain, I fear, 
 Thou hast enjoined thL": friendlv meeting hero. 
 Came I for this ? that for these rebels' sake, 
 
 I hear repr(faches which these traitors make ? 
 
 Vague accusations, such as these to cast 
 
 Upon ray rule, and ray fair name to blast ? 
 
 Could'st thou hold parley with ray bitter foes. 
 
 With the vile miscreants, who have caused such woes ? 
 
 With men in arras against your sovereign's crown, 
 
 And who all rule, ail order now disown ? 
 
 Art thou a Prince, aasertor of the law. 
 
 And hence permit those rebels to withdraw ? 
 
 Hath good King Edward named thee to this post. 
 
 Escape to favor of rebellious iiost ? 
 
 To waste, destroy, fresh forces still to gain, 
 
 And thus revolt against me to raaintain ? 
 
 Is this thy mission ? tliis the way to quell 
 
 The crimes of man who without cause rebel ? 
 
 Alas ! I fear, nay, plainly now I see. 
 
 Thou an my foe, at least, no friend to me ! 
 This northern Earldom, I must needs infer, 
 Thou seekest now on others to confer. 
 That as it jpay, tho' I am thus betrayed, 
 The day of vengeance cannot be delayed. 
 Make every charge, in dark insidious form : 
 For all prepared, I'll boldly meet the storm. 
 Thou talkcst of murders ; all I will explain. 
 When thou hast shown whom I've unjustly slain. 
 And so with taxes I am now reproached. 
 The' on their rights, I ne'er have once encroached. 
 
151 
 
 I ruled my Earldom with and l,y known laws, 
 And all tlie good bestow on me applause. 
 Why should'st thou chns again.t thv brother hear 
 What treacherous Oswald falsely makes appear? 
 His words believe, tho' he's alone to blame, 
 And treason stamps iiim vith eternal shame ' 
 Well Morcar plots Northumbria to obtain, 
 Th.s prize he seeks, nor seeks perchan.e in vain 
 His highest hope, is to subvert our race, 
 And this great aim in all his acts I trace. 
 Didst thou but act a brother's friendly part 
 Thou would'st defeat this object of his heart ; 
 Repress revolt, and my just rule restore, 
 And leave my power greater than before." 
 
 To him thus Harold : " I have not come here, 
 With thy dominion, rights, to interfere. 
 My object is, peace, order to restore: 
 And to that end, the King's commands I bear. 
 No change I seek-no man I now accuse, 
 Both sides I hear-the King his course will choose. 
 But thy harsh words, with insolence combined. 
 Proclaim a reckless and defiant mind. 
 Thy senseless fury will not here avail. 
 Nor shall thy fierceness o'er the law prevail, 
 Nor e'er restore thy now subverted power. 
 Nor aid thy cause in peril's coming hour. 
 In foul abuse, in violence of speech. 
 Thy rabid tongue doth all my acts impeach : 
 But no defence, no good excuse can find. 
 To arm the crown, thy conduct to defend. 
 
152 
 
 Murder's a jest ; and yet methinks we knew, 
 Gemmil and Ulf, and great Cospatrick, too ; 
 And many more whom I to thee might name, 
 Whose deaths mysterious, men are wont to blame. 
 T'is said in others thou hast had thy part ; 
 If this be false, thy innocence assert. 
 If naught thou hast but ribaldry and hate : 
 I then, proud brother, leave thee to thy fate." 
 
 Tos g, incensed, to Harold thus replied : 
 " Indulge thy wrath, my fate I will abide. 
 If here I fail, elsewhere I'll seek redress ; 
 Then on thy life my deep revenge will press. 
 My rights I claim, no more than is my due, 
 But not to thee or Edward vill I sue. 
 An hour will come, will maric some future day, 
 When retribution will my v rongs repay. 
 One choice be thine and either I bestow, 
 Make me thy friend, or send me hence thy foe." 
 
 To whom Prince Harold frowning, answer made, 
 Tho' calm the tone in which his words were said : 
 " Well have I known the temper of thy soul, 
 So fierce, untamed, bereft of all control, 
 Language like this — vindictive and so bold, 
 Proves thy dark passions, ever uncontrolled. 
 Thy words I've heard, and am Avith horror seized, 
 At such wild ravings of a mind diseased. 
 Sad proof lies there — no further I require. 
 Nor faith, nor hope thy conduct can inspire. 
 Expect the worst, and all thy soul prepare. 
 An exile's doom thro' future years to share. 
 
153 
 
 il-e Kile threats ofvengeance I despise. 
 
 Reilo.tsubn.it, and clai. thy sovVeign's grace; 
 
 For us for,nveness there n,ay,et be place: 
 It not, begone-commit thee to thy fate 
 And stern decree from Edward now awJit. 
 A brother's warning from a brother take, 
 Ifnot for thee, still fo. our mother's sake. 
 
 Heaven and man, the sure avenging wrath 
 Wi 1 haunt pursue thee on thy lonely path " 
 
 ^prose those brothers, in that wrathful mood, 
 And rom that day estranged forever stood. 
 Grand in their beauty towered those mighty men 
 Whose mmds incensed could find no utterance then 
 le scarce could Tostig his wild rage restrain, ' 
 And on bs brother frowned with fierce disdain. 
 While noble Harold, with supreme control, 
 bought to command the passions of his soul 
 And then no more those haughty brothers spoke ; 
 No last adieu that awful silence broke 
 Forthwith the younger did that place depart, 
 >\ith m.en composed, but with resentful heart. 
 ^n earth alas ! save on a bloody plain 
 These warlike chieftains never met aglin. 
 At Stamfo.d Bridge upon a fatal day° 
 They led the van of battle's dread array. 
 On Harold's mind now fell dark shades of care, 
 
 Forbodmg woes from Tostig's stern despair. 
 
 The sorrowing Prince directs each anxious thought 
 
 The truth to learn ; he by enquiry sought 
 
154 
 
 The (lamnlnf:; proof of Tostig's cruel course, 
 Which in the Tyrant wakened no remorse. 
 
 This task pcrfonned, to London he returned, 
 And gave report of all that he had learned. 
 Whate'er regrets Prince Harold then might feel, ' 
 In acting thus, he seeks the public weal. 
 Yet more ; stern justice he himself demands, 
 E'en on a brother from the monarch's hands. 
 In this King Edward fully now agreed, 
 Tho' with reluctance, right he did concede. 
 The order ran, that the election made 
 Of young Earl Morcar should not be gainsay'd : 
 That free thence forth beneath his great command, 
 Should rest secure that far Northumbrian land. 
 Tho' hard his doom, none other there could be, 
 And forth from Edward went the stern decree. 
 
 This being done and the revolt suppress'd, 
 Deep fury glowed in Tostig's savage brest. 
 He wild resentment in his words displayed, 
 And his departure not one day delayed. 
 But ere he went, his anger to denote. 
 These words of menace, he to Harold wrote : 
 " By royal decree too well I am informed. 
 Thy part thou hast with cruel haste performed ; 
 And bitter fruits I promise thou shalt reap. 
 And of these acts, a fearful memory keep. 
 Thy Avrongful deeds, injustice done to me, 
 In the dark future well repaid shall be ; 
 Ambition now, but then my curse shall speak. 
 And in those days avenging woes will wreak 
 
155 
 
 On one so lost to honor and to shame 
 
 Who blights his own, likwise a brother's fame. 
 
 'Tis not weak Edward, who this deed hath done : 
 
 But thee I blame, and thee in truth alone. 
 
 Thy fondest hopes still aim at sov'reign power : 
 
 And only wait the last, the fatal hour. 
 
 Of Edward's death ; he numbered with the dead, 
 
 Thou'lt seek to fill his vacant throne instead. 
 
 Now learn thy fate -my word with thee Til keep. 
 
 My sure revenue by day nor night shall sleep. 
 
 Fierce foes I'll raise and lead them to this shore, 
 
 Pursue thy life, thy fortunes evermore. 
 
 When strict compliance William shall compel, 
 
 With thy strange oath, with that foul pledge to sell. 
 
 Thyself, thy country, and the Saxon throne, 
 
 A triple traitor whom all men disown, 
 
 I'll aid him well in that long work of blood 
 
 And on thy path will pour a fiery flood 
 
 Of strife and woe which will thy life beset. 
 
 And leave thee victim to my vengeance yet." 
 
 This cruel missive to the Prince address'd 
 The deepest pangs aroused in Harold's breast. 
 This dark allusion to the dreadful oath. 
 Seemed now prophetic of some future wrath. 
 Tostig's devotion to the Norman power 
 Might yield assistance in some fatal hour. 
 He learned too soon, and yet alas ! too late. 
 How fierce, relentless is a brother's hate. 
 At Bruges then Earl Baldwin held his court, 
 And thither Tostig did in haste resort : 
 
 
 
156 
 
 And Judith, too, his proud and beauteous wife, 
 And ever still tlic light oi his dark life, 
 From Eii;^land'3 shores to IJald ■'ii's halls they wont, 
 Both on revenge and now disasters bent. 
 
 King Edward's soul, in later years forlorn, 
 Tlieso last events, with suffering keen had bonie. 
 By grief, by illness, gravely then oppressed, 
 His pious mind lun "ed wearily for rest. 
 Life's feeble light Avas burning dim and low, 
 And he sunk calmly thro' each hour of woe. 
 The Queen nor Harold could their fears deceive, 
 And with the monarch, oft did Edith grieve. 
 Oftimcs their speech predicted coming woe, 
 And future conflicts with the Norman foe. 
 Thus Edward's days were drawing to a close, 
 And o'er him slow was gathering death's repose. 
 And calmer grew the sacred monarch's mind, 
 As he waxed feebler, — thro' each hour declined. 
 
 'Twas midnight, and around the monarch's bed, 
 Aldrod, Stigand, and great Duke Harold stood. 
 In halls liard by were nobles of renown. 
 The firm supporters of the English crown ; 
 And the fair Edith, in that hour of woe. 
 With tearful eye, looks on his faded brow. 
 The dying Prince then raised his sinking voice, 
 And spoke to Aldred, ere his final choice. 
 Of a succesFor to the English crown. 
 Of one whose sway the proudest land might own: 
 " Aldred my guide, my life fades as a dream, 
 I ask thy counsel at this hour supreme. 
 
157 
 
 Tho.1 knowost young Edgar's claim to fill the throne 
 
 And all my uishes well to thee are known. 
 
 Thou knowest too that he can never wield 
 
 That sceptred trust, or sword in battle-field. 
 
 Can the great oath which Harold rashly made, 
 
 To crown the Norman, when in dust Fm laid, ' 
 
 ih disregarded, or be here forgiven, 
 
 Or do such vows find record too in Heaven? 
 
 To whom Aldred^- Let no dark fears prevail, 
 An oatli so sworn, cannot the Duke avail. 
 
 Our Head Supremo would absolution give 
 From oath so taken, should you not su'^vive." 
 To Stigand now, the monarch with a sigh, 
 >rado feeble sign, for death was drawing nigh ; 
 " Stigand, my friend, my strength in ovU dlys, 
 Dost thou concur, in what our Aldred says ?" 
 
 Stigand thus prompt-" August and honored lord, 
 Of what he says, believe each sacred word. 
 Touching this oath I my assurance bring. 
 It binds no man, much less a chosen King." 
 
 The monarch then. Prince Harold thus^addrossed 
 While gently he that chieftain's hand impressed : 
 " Harold, 'tis done ; despite all prior claim, 
 To the great trust thou art the one I name. 
 Love thy people— all those friends of mine 
 Will favor thee-wiU freely join with thine. 
 God bless thy efforts, and reward thy worth. 
 When I shall sleep beneath the cold, dull earth. 
 Harold farewell ! may God's protecting power, 
 Guide and guard thee in the perilous hour." 
 
158 
 
 Tlien to tho Q.ioon he silent to^on made, 
 And all withdrew, while that adieu was sa.U : 
 "Sweet E.lith, my beloved, the hour has cv.me, 
 A voice now calls nit to a distant home. 
 Let vanished years, those days thy love hath Mest, 
 Dwell in thy memory when I've sunk to rest. 
 I'm wearied, my beloved, with many a woo. 
 And gladly hence to other worlds I ^^o. 
 Among the dead, the mourned, I soo'n shall be, 
 When I am gone, weep not, my love, for me. 
 Harold, thy brother, with his warlike arm, 
 Will shield thy life from peril and from harm." 
 But sudden then across the monarch's brow, 
 The palor of the grave came cold and ghastly 'now. 
 The Queen knelt there in agony of soul, 
 :N'o hopes of earth her grief could now console. 
 With whispering accents and in broken speech, 
 These last sad words his weeping consort reacli: 
 " Edith farewell! Oh! guard her and thy throne, 
 Yes,— William, dark deed, Harold, God alone."' 
 
 Thus spoke the King, and breathed his latest sigh 
 And with these memories closed his fading eye. 
 With pressure cold, he held Queen Edith°s hand, 
 Till his pui-e spirit passed to brighter land. 
 
BOOK SIXTH. 
 
 Tlio remains of F.dwanl dm r 
 
 «">K Of K„„„„„, „,,„, „„ ; " ' • • "■ "'^t of ,„.. .so.,,,,,, ,, .„„,,, 
 
 "'^" - e,.o ...rone-." ;::■;: ;;;;;■ «;;" -.,„„„„ „ ,.. ,:;.,: 
 
 «"" other, or „... ^^.nl.-,,..,.,,,T , ; i;^''''''"'' "^ '"" ^■-.t<n,.„,„,a,. 
 
 conciliatory coumo, gain, tl.o S.rf, " " '^'""■' "'"'"^"H'"! with l|,r..i,r. 
 »"-V..Hh.n. inha^il, :,::'", :;'''''^'7-'^''''-'-' »- CO.UM.K. o. 
 -N-oni.a,a,,..,„,.„_„,. ,..,„':";:"-'"-'"•- vi.^it to Ho... i... ,., 
 
 -%ar.aaa...of 3^....,,::,;;;t;;vi2r " '"" ^^^'^^ '^"'■' 
 
 Tlie fl^llowin. morn ,uiek spread the tidings round 
 
 And far and wide, diffused a grief profound, 
 ^oon at the Palace many nobles meet, 
 
 And, silent there, each other ),riefly greet. 
 
 T ough these last rites no solemn pomp displayed, 
 
 ^ithpiouscaro wore preparations made. 
 ^n a high car, enshrouded and inclosed. 
 On royal bier, those cold remains reposed. 
 Caparisoned in black, six sable steeds 
 
 A.mt, and boar them where the cortege leads. 
 
 They al advance, and Edgar follows there; 
 Ami ivifh k;>^ tt_ 1 1 - ' 
 
 An<l,vithM„Har„I,l, deeper grief „. 
 ;™;" •™'J '^"S™' «« Procc-«ion lead 
 
 to share. 
 
 With holy 
 
 men, in honor of the dead. 
 
160 
 
 Of man's redemption, seen by every eye, 
 
 The sacred si";n, in front is borne on lii"-h. 
 
 A mourning crowd extends the lengthening train, 
 
 And few are there who tears and siglis restrain. 
 
 Thus the vast throng, in long procession moved, 
 
 And thousands wept the monarch they had loved. 
 
 Upon that day, a nation's tears were shed, 
 
 While deep-tongued bells pealed requiems for the dead. 
 
 They reached the Abbey, still Westminster named, 
 
 For mightier dead in after ages famed. 
 
 Then holy Prelates, in their robes arrayed, 
 
 The foremost met, and their advance was stayed. 
 
 There many came, and round the sacred fane, 
 
 Conspicuous thronged the Saxon and the Dane. 
 
 They entered then that temple of man's fame, 
 
 Within whose -vvalls lives many a glorious name. 
 
 Along the solemn aisle the corse is borne, 
 
 While round that bier great England's Princes mourn. 
 
 On elevation near the Altar made, 
 
 The relics of this pious king were laid ; 
 
 The last, cold, narrow bed of so much worth. 
 
 Ere gathered thence unto their mother earth. 
 
 Then o'er the dead, amid the awful gloom. 
 
 Was said and sung the ritual of the tomb. 
 
 Anthems and prayers ascended to the sky, 
 
 With sacred hopes, the last that cannot die. 
 
 Sad o'er that scene of sorrow and repose, 
 
 The organ's strain thro' cloisterea aisles arose : 
 
 And from that spot, his final resting-place, 
 
 Rose supplications to the throne of grace. 
 
161 
 
 To the dull tomb tl™ promp,,^ ,,„, ,„„^i 
 A blameless king, who left few foes WiM — 
 The great Co„fessor that eold grave slili ke'eps, 
 And there the pieus, famed St. Edward sleeps. 
 
 long ,e „ad reigned, had ruled with gentle hand, 
 Andjustlus sway o'er this distraeted laud; 
 tts laws thro' ages, men's applause have gained, 
 
 A.d.„ these times sterujustiee had maintained: 
 Jiut the long glories of that mighty race 
 
 Ofv>hatithadboeu;andi,sd,,yhuuglow 
 
 Oer mournful centuries of strife and woe. 
 
 Soon twdight came, with eold and gloomy light, 
 Tl.cn fellowed horrors of the dismal „i„ht 
 
 F.e.-cea,.gry clouds, far i„ the distant'skies, 
 er the hor.zon slowly now arise : 
 
 Ommous signs of fatal times to come. 
 The consummation ofa nation's doom 
 Now Edgar Athehng, last of Cerdic's race, 
 
 Was nghtful heir to fill this monarch's place: 
 
 Tho young, revered, the last of Cerdic's line, 
 
 He more by Krt,, than by his deeds would shine. 
 Ye some were there who loudly urged his claim. 
 And h„„ ,3 h„^,^ f^^,^^,^^ ^,^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^ 
 
 But by renown, Duke Harold stood alone, 
 A fit successor to the EngUsh throne 
 In peace sagacious, great in deeds of war • 
 In feme and valor, England's brightest st«. 
 "- or Wdliam, Normandy's great Prmce, 
 i preference did, at firat, evince. 
 
 Det 
 
162 
 
 But those wore tlicy, tvIio to great En-land's cause 
 
 Proferred self-interost and the Duke's applause ; 
 
 Who knew the prizes William would bestow 
 
 On those who urged his high pretensions now. 
 
 And some there were who future dangers feared 
 
 For that loved land, so long to them endeared ; 
 
 To whom invasion and its ills were known ; 
 
 For aged hearts distrustful now had grown. 
 
 To end all doubt, a hasty council met, 
 
 Long ere tlie sun of that sad day had set. 
 
 That day on which King Edward was interred,' 
 
 That high debate among the chiefs was heard. 
 
 Great Thanes and Earls, and other chiefs came there, 
 
 In that decree, then ijublicly to share : 
 
 And holy prelates, deep and grave in thought, 
 
 That hurried council of the kingdom sought. 
 
 In that asseml)ly, promptly thus convened. 
 
 Uprose a Thane, whose choice to Harold leaned. 
 
 Oswald his name, a chief of Wessex he, 
 
 Who long had ruled o'er Saxons proud and free. 
 
 With cautious words, he first the silence broke, 
 
 And tlius his peers, in modest utterance spoke : 
 
 " Princes and noble Thanes assembled here 
 A king to choose, to you it must appear 
 Our choice should fall upon a man mature, 
 Of whose great virtues we should all be sure. 
 Dangers surround us, perils great indeed, 
 And of strong arm the nation stands in need. 
 Among us still some grave dissensions reign. 
 And these to heal, we must not seek in vain. 
 
103 
 The No™a„ tlu.eatc„,, „a,i„„, ,„„,.„ ,,„„,^. 
 lo our ,Ic.,,trueti«„, all their scl,c,„os devote. 
 A ba»,„ King our ruler now should he, 
 \ ahant in ,var, ,.<,„„,„„i „j,„„ ^^^^ ^^^ 
 
 >no of high lineage, whose supreme command 
 
 Would sway thoel.ieftaius, levies of our land 
 T™ royal clain,a.ts, you are ,,e,ia„.aro, 
 
 W,h Harold vie, lost Edward's Crown to share, 
 But should wo Edgar, or Duke William take • 
 _^o rule the la„d.-ifei,herkh,g,vo make, 
 Xlic schemes offoroign and domestie foes, 
 
 °;""'™S°»E"«'»"''.-v,u„heard-„fwoes. 
 l^uHong hath Harold in high honor stood, 
 Dmhng claims of Danish, Saxon Wood. 
 
 Great are his deeds, and pure his mighty name, 
 Long tried m arms, and of illustrious fame, 
 tor England's safely .and the puMio good 
 
 0.^ fiercest foes ho br.avcly hath withstood. 
 W,th lum I have through scenes of earn,ago fo„»ht 
 firm ,n our trust, and one in deed and thought? ' 
 
 We voh,™ him there to act a hero's part, 
 To prove a prince's and a patriot's heart. 
 
 But b, ighter hopes conviction now declares. 
 
 None present here, his fltnoss will gai„s.ay; 
 None present hero, can cold distrust bolraj • 
 «or foreign or domestic foe will dare 
 To claim tho crown, 'tis Harold's let to wear 
 
 At h,s last hour, King Edward had declared 
 That long his eonfldenee that Prineo had shared 
 
164 
 
 His latest hopes, low breathed in Stigand's ear, 
 Were that his crown this valiant chief should bear. 
 In that selection I for one concur, 
 And would on hira the sceptre noAv confer." 
 
 Long, loud applause at this discou.ae was raised ; 
 They much the speaker, much great Harold, praised. 
 This done, Earl Hugo, Thane of Mercia, rose, 
 And in brief word-^ Prince Edgar did propose. 
 
 "Pr 
 
 inces, Thanes, before your great decree 
 
 Go forth a law, where men will disagree. 
 It may be wise, a moment to recall 
 Each anxious thought, the hopes which sway us all, 
 That deep forethought may rule each patriot breast, 
 And no reproach upon our actions rest. 
 Prince Edgar now, the last of Cerdic's line, 
 Clear lineal rights does in his claim combine. 
 Called to the throne by his unquestioned right, 
 He'd stronger prove than Harold in his might, 
 And safer far, whate'er his friends may boast. 
 Than warlike William and his Norman host. 
 Prince Harold's foes, too numerous now have grown ; 
 No peace we'd know till he be overthrown. 
 Tostig and William would deny his right. 
 And 'gainst our country hostile force unite ; 
 Spread fierce dissensions, and ill-omened fear. 
 And sweep the island in their dread career. 
 Long wars they'd wage against this glorious state, 
 To wreak on Harold their undying hate. 
 They'd gather Danish and Norwegian hosts, 
 And pour destruction on our fertile coasts. 
 
IGo 
 
 If the proud Norman were proclaimccl our King, 
 He on the Saxons would wide ruin bring ; 
 Usurp our lands, and every means employ 
 To crush our freedom and our hopes destroy. 
 Therefore Prince Edgar still our choice should be ; 
 Thro' him alone we would be safe and free." 
 
 Some here approved, yet more no sign betrayed ; 
 For on but few, these words impression made. 
 Silence profound reigned in that conclave high, 
 When one arose, attracting every eye ; 
 An aged man, of calm and stately mion, 
 ^Vho 'mong them long an oracle had been, 
 And thus he spoke ; 
 
 " My countrymen and friends, 
 Now hear my words; experience, wisdom lends 
 To age decrepid ; feeble tho' my frame, 
 I'o you, in truth, is not unknown my name. 
 Harold I know, his valiant deeds commend, 
 I watched his boyhood, and am still his friend. 
 I knew his father, much his friendship prized ; 
 Tho' tried too oft, its truth was ne'er disguised. 
 We were opposed, we strove in fields of blood, 
 But Godwin's love, his trust, each storm withstood 
 Mme hath not changed, tho' many a year hath fled, 
 Smce that proud name was numbered with the dead. 
 To liis great son my wishes all incline, 
 F- -n uat Prince bright virtues too combine. 
 ^;.ut st^ ner duty must with me prevail, 
 
 triendship past nor present should avail. 
 
 Harold's strange oath, to the great Norman made, 
 
 Distracts my mind, much weakness hath betrayed. 
 
 M 
 
I' *^ 
 
 160 
 
 Upon his acts 'twill powerful influence shed, 
 And to disasters great and signal lead. 
 If him wc make our ruler and our king, 
 Perils unknown he will on England bring. 
 Divisions reign and jealousies will rise. 
 And other dangers, seen by aged eyes. 
 The youthful Edgar claims our high esteem, 
 But feeble he, and not ih« man, I deem, 
 O'er this great land to hold a 3ov.\ ci^n sway, 
 Or ride the tempest thi'o' a darker day. 
 Scarce could that prince your mighty s;-rtre mekl, 
 Nor from your foes could he the kingd- ra laield. 
 Duke Wilham, then, remains our only choice. 
 And for that prince I freely give my voice. 
 In peace i:-;-,];acious, and renonued his name. 
 His power vast, and high his martial fame, ' 
 If him you chooce, and call him to the throne. 
 He'll rule the kingdom as he sways his own. 
 With a firm hand, the nation he'd unite, 
 Enforce strict law, and still uphold the right. 
 Here would ho reign, here would his empire be, 
 And his own t^tate be left beyond the sea. 
 Reject his claim, pursue a hostile course, 
 Then :,ill he seek, by conquest, to enforce 
 Whatever claims ambition may assert, 
 .And by his arms the kingdom may subvert. 
 
 " In times long gone, my lot was to behold 
 Dark scenes of woe, by history yet untold. 
 I saw the slaughter of the Danish race, ) 
 
 My memory still its horrors doth retrace, 
 And these no change, no time can e'er eflface. j 
 
167 
 
 ^^■^ Swojn I sa. upon his conquering path 
 
 mnlc :saxou blocl was object of his wrath. 
 
 liie vast revenge which fired his cruel heart, 
 
 lo his ambition did its rage impart. 
 
 I snyy weak Etiielred before liim fiy, 
 
 And refuge se.^k in distant Normandj. 
 
 Our homes ho loft to the invading bands, 
 
 And for his safety iled to foreign lands. ' 
 
 I jomed the shout ^vhich rose o'er regions .vide, 
 
 When th. dread Northman, in his pomp and pride, 
 
 VVas, unrepentant, sudden made to feel 
 
 The deadly point of the avenging steel. 
 
 And I was there, when Canute, with liig hosts, 
 
 -.anded ni wrath upon our fertile coasts. 
 
 I^^aw the fight on Sorsteine's bloody field, 
 
 Where Dane to Saxon was compelled to yield. 
 
 Brentford I saw, and Oxford's dreadful day, 
 
 And bloody Ashdown's proud and dark army. 
 
 I had two brothers, and I loved them well; 
 
 Far in the van upon that night they foil. 
 
 I've seen th' invader ravaging our soil, 
 
 And many a home their ruthless arms despoil. 
 
 Those warlike men, who in resisting bled. 
 
 Are cold and low, long slumbering with the dead. 
 
 Their fame and dor, long the poet's theme, 
 
 In memory live, and still immortal seem. 
 
 Those beacon lights upon the shores of time, 
 
 I ■ . '^ and saw, in all their glorious prime. 
 
 h vianhood then, they for their country died, 
 
 ^id left the nation without hope or guide. 
 
168 
 
 Where shall we see, or hope to see again, 
 
 Such mighty warriors England's arms sustain ? 
 
 That race renowned has gone, hath passed away, 
 
 And left our empire to the stranger's sway. 
 
 They failed, alas ! our limits to defend ; 
 
 Can we on men degenerate now depend ? 
 
 Oh, save the kingdom from that worst of woes, 
 
 To fall the victim of invading foes. 
 
 I'll say. Oh, save her ! with my latest word, 
 
 From the fierce Norman's still destroying sword ! 
 
 From her avert the wrath of coming years. 
 
 From desolation, mingling blood and tears ! 
 Make the great William monarch of the land, 
 
 Combine, declare, invoke his great command ; 
 Then Saxon, Dane, and Norman will unite. 
 Three kindred nations will, with matchless might, 
 Impress on time the glories of their name. 
 And, blended, live upon the page of fame." 
 
 Some here applaud, though slightly were they moved. 
 For of those chieftains, few the Noman loved. 
 Confusion came, and soon a tumult slight. 
 For in their choice they could no more unite. 
 Archbishop Stigand then in council rose. 
 And thus his thoughts did artfully disclose : 
 
 " Great princes, nobles, now assembled here 
 In high debate on interests grave and dear 
 To England's present weal, her future hope, 
 That she with dangers safely still may cope, 
 I'll give approval to the choice you make ; 
 But 'tis our duty every view to take, 
 
169 
 
 Of aU that sliould tho minds of patriots move, 
 The course to choose which wisdom may approve. 
 With close attention, with respect, I've heard 
 All you have said, and weighed each solemn word. 
 Yet much remain? to make our judgments clear, 
 And to avert all danger, strife, and fear. 
 Remember well what our first duty ig, 
 How grave the fault if wo should choose amiss. 
 If Wiong decree we on this day pronounce. 
 All future times will this our act denounce. 
 Abroad, around, arc symptoms that alarm, 
 And warlike nations for aggression arm. 
 
 " The rights of Edgar, first should claim our care. 
 Yet, in this view, we the conviction share 
 That he is weak, and no respect commands, 
 By fame in arms, in this or foreign lands. 
 'Tis true through him, last scion of his race. 
 We Purely now our line of monarchs trace ; 
 Though this descent the Saxons greatly prize, 
 Beyond this view a farther prospect lies. 
 When we recall our long distracted state, 
 Is he the man to guard the nation's fate ? 
 Beneath his banner would our warriors fight ? 
 Would he Norwegian, Norman, put to flight ? 
 Could he great William's fierce aggressions meet, 
 Or with proud foes, like unto him, compete ? 
 Has he the will, th' intrepid stvmgth. of soul. 
 O'er warlike chiefs to wield a stern control ? 
 Could he with firmness, with unwavering haad, 
 Strict order keep through this distracted land ? 
 
170 
 
 If none of these, your duty now is plain, — 
 Itcspcct his rank ; as Prince let him remiiin. 
 
 " Next WiUiain comes ; the famous Norman, he 
 To sway our people, independent, free ! 
 iShall wo invite a foreign tyrant hero, 
 To crush our freedom, fill our souls with fear ? 
 Our lands to seize, his fav'iites to endow, 
 Resign our birthright, place upon his brow 
 The English crown Avhich migLty monarchs wore, 
 The crown which Alfred, Canute, Edward bore ? 
 To change our laws, our customs to destroy. 
 And every art of despot to employ ? 
 A cruel sway far o'er the realm to spread. 
 And blood of thousands on our soil to shed ? 
 Come he as conqueroi', or as chosen king, 
 Unbounded mischief in his train he'll brin". 
 If now invited, by supreme decree. 
 Fierce hordes of Normans would his followers bo ; 
 And should invasion this fair isk assail. 
 Then valor, union, would alone prevail. 
 Could feeble pword such ruthless foe withstand. 
 Or drive his legions from our threatened land ? 
 It cannot bo : a warlike king alone, 
 Must guard the kingdom and uphold the throne. 
 A native prince, whose skill and fame in arms 
 Would shield our homes from perils raid alarms. 
 Unless some warrior meet them on the field. 
 Our hopes would fail, our doom too soon be sealed. 
 Long ages hence through scenes of nameless woe, 
 The fiery flood of conquest still would flow— 
 
171 
 
 Would I)rcak the barviorg which defoml our rights, 
 A rule impose wliich freedom ever hliglitg. 
 
 " Harold remains ; on him our choice should fall ; 
 Prince, Dane, and Saxon, he combines them all. 
 Renowned in arms our glory to increase, 
 Valiant, and wise in all the arts of peace, 
 Beneath his rule all malcontents would bow ; 
 He on our feuds promjit union would bestow, 
 Would vaiiipiish foes who hate the Saxon race, 
 Secure repose, high policies would trace. 
 He Edwin, Morcar, Tostig, would control. 
 And others sway by his commanding soul. 
 He the Isurwegian, Normr i, would defy, 
 And teach us all on patriot i' Ids to die : 
 Picts, Scots, and Irish promptly to subdue, 
 And strong defence on frontic .j renew. 
 Ho with our armies, fired witii martia' me, 
 Would guard our homos, lend terror tu ^r name. 
 The time may come, perchance is not afar, 
 When we shall waken to the sound of war. 
 Proud hostile fleets around our coasts may sweep, 
 And veteran foes come on us from the deep. 
 For nerilcus signs, to sad and watchful eyes, 
 In the Moar future darkly now arise. 
 William'd ambit ,n, his protended claim. 
 May wrap the realm, the western world, in flame. 
 But 'tis nut mine dire prophecies to tell 
 To wai like chiefs, whom danger could not quell. 
 'Tis said by some, that he a pledge hath made 
 The Norman Duke, in hit va^t schemes to aid • 
 
172 
 
 ffi 
 
 That if tliia oath, thus sworn on relics true, 
 Ho moan to lirouk, liis ruin would ensue. 
 This none clispute : but still wo know too well, 
 What dread misclianco great Harold then befol. 
 Treachery, force, and secret fraud unite, 
 The loftiest name of England's sous Uj blight. 
 Men on their vows God's sanction may invoke, 
 But not for deeds which vengeance should provoke. 
 The act that's wrong and hateful in men's eyes 
 Can ne'er by oath have sanction in the skies : 
 And absolution would for such bo given. 
 And sanctioned too by sacred laws of heaven. 
 This cliildish fear now l)anish from your minds : 
 An oath surprised, man's conscience never binds. 
 This valiant Triuce my ready choice shall be, 
 For by his rule we should be safe and free. 
 Besides all this, the night when Edward died, 
 This choice he made ; by it let us abide. 
 This last, sad mandate of tho king obey, 
 And from such dawn will spring a brighter day." 
 
 Thus Stigand spoke. A moment's silence there, 
 Then the whole Senate one accord declare. 
 The chieftains present at that great debate 
 To Stigand's choice their prompt adhesion state. 
 Prince Harold now they greet with loud acclaim. 
 And friendly voices shout his honored name. 
 There came a flush upon his princely brow, 
 As the (luick blood went mantling to and fro. 
 Yet self-reliant, modest air he wore, 
 Though not unmoved by the great part Iio bore. 
 
178 
 
 Fortlnvith ihoy led him to a chair of state, 
 
 Whereon ho sat, witli mien and eye aedate. 
 
 The crown upon hia hcuil then Ahlretl placed, 
 
 And hi.s higli duties in brief words wore traced. 
 
 And IIuroM swore in all things to pursue 
 
 The course prescribed, and passed in <iuick review. 
 
 In this great act then all those nobles share, 
 
 And hail him king, to him allegiance swear. 
 
 Harold, thus crowned, the sceptre did assume 
 
 Of England, clouded with impending doom. 
 
 lie then arose and briefly all addressed. 
 
 While by his words those chiefs were awed, impressed: 
 
 " Most noble Thanes and Prelates of the land, 
 Whose high decree confers supreme command, 
 Before you now, as sovereign I appear. 
 Of this great realm, entrusted to my care. 
 Though not untried, yet partial the decree 
 Which has bestowed this sceptred trust on me. 
 The pul)lic weal, great interests on each hand, 
 From England's ruler wisdom will demand, 
 And courage too, groat dangers soon to meet, 
 And, with firm hand, aggressions to defeat. 
 'Twill be my duty, in the nation's cause, 
 To govern justly and by well-known laws. 
 Upon our frontiers to the north and west. 
 To guard our soil, and see all wrongs redressed 
 With your assistance, and the people's love 
 And the protection of high heaven above 
 I hope the cause of justice to maintain, 
 And of this realm the glory to sustain : 
 
174 
 
 On sea and land to foil revengeful foes, 
 And shield the kingdom from invasion's woes." 
 Low murmurs of applause, of reverent fear, 
 Arising there, now greet King Harold's ear; 
 Who, nor elated, nor in haughty mood. 
 Of all the realm the chosen monarch stood. 
 
 But in the north a rising discontent 
 Arose and spread soon o'er a wide extent. 
 The northern Thanes reluctantly obey 
 The monarch's rule, or yield to Saxon's sway. 
 And chiefly now those chieftains might complain 
 That the high claims of Mercian and of Dane 
 In this decree no hearing could obtain ; 
 Distrust some felt of Godwin's haughty race, 
 In many a breast la-k jealous thoughts had place ; 
 Slowly at first the sullen treason grew. 
 Then swift and strong in sweeping wrath it flew. 
 Soon Harold's friends oxporienced just alarm 
 Lest the great chiefs the malcontents should arm 
 Should raise revolt against his kingly crown 
 To which true loyalty they ne'er had shown. 
 The King intent his sceptre to maintain. 
 Those northern Chioftains still had hope to gam ; 
 He might remind them that on former day, 
 A tyrant Prince his justice swept away :— 
 When the fierce Tostig, with relentl-ss hand, 
 Had dismay spread through the Northumbrian land ; 
 For though a brother that deep wrong had done, 
 Stern retribution those great chiefs Iiad won. 
 
 'Mong many friends conspicuous for their zeal, 
 One then there was to whom he made appeal,^ 
 
175 
 
 A holy man, nor could more learned be found, 
 Nor one whose sancuty was more renowned -1 
 Grave Bishop Wulfstan, famed in many a clime, 
 Nor purer light had shone in that far time. 
 Great Worcester's sec that reverend prelate held 
 In those dark days, and Harold was impelled. 
 Or deemed it wise, his word and aid to claim. 
 That he might lend the influence of his name! 
 Tlie King and Wulfstan, with some councillors true 
 Proud Morcar sought, and the young Edwin too. 
 Of these great Earls, the father now was gone 
 Mercia's lord and Leofric's great son. 
 In former times, through periods of great woe, 
 The King had been their father Alfgar's foe ; 
 By Harold's arms o'ercome, in bloody scene,' 
 He exile, outlaw, through long years had been. 
 Restored at length, he o'er East Anglia reigned. 
 The Earldom Harold, in his youth, had gained. 
 Long feuds between their rival houses raged. 
 And time had scarce their bitter hate assuaged. 
 Holy influence Wulfstan then could Avield 
 O'er these great men, who soon a hearing yield, 
 With other chiefs of fame and power there. 
 Calmly he spoke, did Harold's claims declare. 
 And prompt their anger softened and subdued, 
 And with high hopes distrustful minds imbued. 
 King Harold, too, by many a promise made. 
 And courteous speech, these warlike chieftains swayed. 
 He pledges gave, their sacred rights to guard, 
 And they reliant, took his royal word. "" 
 
 
 
176 
 
 When he tlieir rights had promised tlms to save, 
 
 They to the monarch true allegiance gave. 
 
 They him proclaimed, his cause they made their own, 
 
 And firm devotion promised to the crown. 
 
 Though truer friends, perchance, King Harold found. 
 
 The word they kept by wluch they thus were bound. 
 
 The great Earl Morcar, whose illustrious name 
 Was through the land far heralded by fame, 
 In stately home hard by the ancient deep. 
 Had his abode, upon a rocky steep, — 
 A lofty pile, 'mid ancient trees alone, 
 A lasting monument of ages gone ; 
 A castle old, defended by a tower, 
 Which long defied the Northman and his power. 
 With him there dwelt, a brother's fondest care, 
 A sister, loved Editha named, the fair ; 
 A gentle Princess, in her youth's sweet prime, 
 The noblest damsel of the northern climo. 
 Her faultless form, her soft but high-born eye, 
 And stately mien of hiborn majesty, 
 Beaming with soul, and beauty's matchless grace, 
 Bespoke the lineage of a lofty race. 
 Though softest smiles would tenderness disclose, 
 Yet through them all spoke sadness and repose, 
 Veiling with hues of a transparent gloom, 
 The deeper sorrows of too early doom. 
 Grief's secret languor, prelude of despair, 
 Whoso shadows softened, but could not impair 
 The nameless charm which round her beauty hung, 
 And made her peerless that great race among. 
 
1( I 
 
 Despite the distance which divides them now, 
 She looks too fondly on that princely brow. 
 Oft slie had heard in these licr father's halls, 
 Of that renown she eagerly recalls. 
 And Harold saw that maiden of the north, 
 Adorned with beauty and with matchless worth ; 
 Nor cold his heart, nor e'er liad been to love- 
 In lofty natures lighted from above ; 
 That heart, though sad and long perplexed with -nire, 
 To beauty yields what time could ne'er impair. 
 Darkened by grief, all dim and shadowed o'er, 
 'Twas now foredoomed, and shadows went before. 
 Soon in their breasts the dawn of love arose. 
 And looks and words quick did that love disclose. 
 The King and she their mutual pledges gave ; 
 Too soon, too late for his untimely grave. 
 Time passed away. The Monarch claimed her hand 
 Of the great Earl, who sought not to withstand 
 Great suit so urged, but yields with anxious heart 
 That sister loved, with whom he thus must part. 
 Throughout the land this alliance soon was known, 
 And all now swore allegiance to his throne. 
 
BOOK SEVENTH. 
 
 ■ARGUMENT. 
 
 throne of that rdoj II s 1 ^ '^ ''*'"'"'" °' ^"'"' *« ^''^ 
 
 advice he BeeL in «1 , T '"""" "' "" ""'"^^ ""'* '^•«»''«' ^''^'e 
 occasion iT . . "" '""J^-o'^e-The speeches made on this 
 
 ":^;rrr :r:;:~rr----.np.ie« 
 
 second should be sent reoui i.^ , '" '''°'' "■^«'>««'-««to'y. » 
 
 ^..e.en.. h. eiJ^Zir;: ^ire^orwi^^i^'^r: 
 
 ref„ rnVirv ^'"g-l'l'o message and Harold's reply given -He 
 
 r turns to Normandy, after having heen hospitably entertained by arold 
 
 Harold ZZ y ' ^''''""'i J""'-ney to England and the marriage of 
 
 Edward the Confessor to his rest hath gone, 
 And Saxon Harold sits on England's throne. ' 
 That warlike prince, with sceptre and with sword. 
 The kingdom rules, as rightful, sovereign lord. 
 ■And surely then, not by the breath of fame. 
 To Normandy these startling tidings cau.e. ' 
 'Tis said the tale, dark wing'd with future wr..>, 
 Flies still the swiftest of all things below ; 
 
 R 
 
180 
 
 By night, by day, its devious passage finds, 
 
 Soars thro' the storm, outstrips the waves and winds ; 
 
 And though a vagrant on its pathless way, 
 
 'Twill whisper sorrow on t'^o near a day. 
 
 By the great Norman far too soon were known, 
 
 The monarch's death, his loss of England's crown. 
 
 Short time elapse;!, tho' adveise winds delayed, 
 
 Ere trusty message these dread news conveyed. 
 
 But when the courier from the English shore 
 
 To William's court the fatal missive bore. 
 
 The Norman prince, his nobles and his suite 
 
 Had sought the wood with hounds and horses fleet. 
 
 The warrior sov'reigns of great Rollo's race 
 Were matchless hunters, mighty m the chase :— - 
 Dark, shady forests guarded were, and grew 
 From age to age luxuriant to the view. 
 For many a league these wildernesses stood, 
 O'er hill and lowland and by mountain flood. 
 'Mid ancient trees and thickets low between, 
 And winding streams, long vistas might be seen, 
 AVhere many a straggle, bloody death had been. 
 Wild haunts they were, well suited to enogge 
 The sylvan conflicts of that radcr a^-e 
 From times long gone, bcneads their gloomy shades, 
 Through sweeping vales and iwiely forest glades. 
 When wintry blasts resounded through the woods, 
 AVith the far echoes of descending floods ; 
 In spring's first bloom and summer waning there 
 Thro' yellow autumn with its blithesome air ; 
 
181 
 
 The Norman princes, nobles of tliat daj, 
 With eager joj pursued their savage prey. 
 The march of conquest, pillage, sword and flame, 
 O er regions fair had borne the Norman name : 
 Yet those rude pirates of remoter times 
 Had felt the influence of these milder climes, 
 And their descendants gentler arts display, 
 As the long years, as centuries roll away ; 
 So this great prince, the mightiest of his I'ine, 
 Did hunting, war and pohcy combine. 
 
 It happened thus, that William and his court. 
 With noble knights, accustomed to resort 
 To these abodes in search of savage game, 
 Had sought a forest, Rouvcrault by name ; 
 There to pursue as they had done before. 
 Through peril's paths the wild, the tusky boar. 
 The sun arose -.yith splendor on that day, 
 And forth they wen^ rejoicing on their way. 
 Short sword and spear the princely Norman bore, 
 And hunter's c'oak upon his shoulders wore. 
 Small cap of velvet did his head adorn, 
 Such as were then by knights in hunting worn. 
 A steed he rode of purest Gorman race, 
 Of ample size and broken to ths chase. 
 Fearless he looked o'er all tlie mightiest there. 
 Among great nobles armed with sword and spear. 
 •His sinew V form, cn3t in iwroic mould 
 And dauntless eye, of strength and courage told ; 
 Such force athletic rarely could be seen, 
 And gave that churf a stern and warlike mien. 
 
182 
 
 Upon a palfrey fair Matilda rode 
 By her great lord toward the frowning wood ; 
 And Btill on him would rest her anxious eye, 
 In secret prayer no peril might be nigh. 
 And lovely ones, that matin hour to share, 
 Followed by pages, young and gay, were there ; — 
 With lordly men, the Paladins of war, 
 Tho' lesser lights around one mighty star. 
 Great hunters, too, and well did they unite. 
 Steeds, skill, and hounds and all that could excite 
 The sullen boar and force him quick to bay. 
 Or drive him bounding through the forest way. 
 Now the fair Princess, on a gentle mound 
 Halts by the way to view the scene around, 
 "Where far o'er hill, and plain, and valley lay. 
 Effulgent glories of the early day ; — 
 Theace, with her suite she sought Rouen again. 
 While he rode onward with his knightly train. 
 Ihs wood these gain, on chargers proudly borne. 
 While thrcugh the forest sounds the huntsmen's horn. 
 A league or less within the woodland scene. 
 They mark the traces where the boar had been. 
 They eager wait ; and quick the leading hound 
 Scents on the track and near the boar is found. 
 Aroused he stands, then bounding speeds away, 
 Along a path which thro' the forest lay. 
 The dogs pursue and all press boldly on : 
 But now ahead, both boar and hounds are gone. 
 
 Not long they follow through the winding way, 
 Ere round he whirls and fiercely stands at bay. 
 
183 
 
 Quick toss'd on high tlie foremost dog is slain, 
 The rest surround him but approach in vain. 
 The Norman chief, the first where danger press'd. 
 Spurs in advance, confronts the furious beast. 
 Two hounds lay near him, weltering in their blood, 
 As many more, there bleeding tottering stood. 
 Some still are bounding round the bloody scene. 
 With space secure them and the boar between. 
 The savage monster up to fury wrought, 
 Nor shunn'd the fight, nor the encounter sought. 
 The wary hunter eyes the brute enraged. 
 Quick weighs the struggle now to bo engaged. 
 The steed, with ears erect and head on high, 
 Snorts at the sight and restless grows his eye ; 
 Th' intrepid rider knows no earthly fear, 
 And prompt in hand is poised the fatal spear. 
 Swift sped the weapon, yet with erring flight ; 
 The boar it strikes, but swerving to the right. 
 Through the thick hide the point diverging flies. 
 And in the earth its force expended dies. 
 Writhing, frantic from the bleeding wound. 
 Forward he plunges with terrific bound. 
 Straight at the prince the furious rush is made. 
 And in his path all now is prostrate laid. 
 With rabid tusk, beslimed with foam and blood. 
 He rends the shoulder of the noble steed. 
 As cut by knife of broad and keenest blade, 
 A ghastly wound of wondrous length is made. 
 Uprears the horse, the two fore-feet in air. 
 And William's skill must all its strength prepare. 
 
184 
 
 He wheels him round, quick from the saddle glides, 
 And for the fight a readier arm provi lea. 
 But now Fitzosbernc, eager, watches near. 
 With feara aroused and huntsman's ready spear ;— 
 The weapon flies, deep through the flesii descends, 
 And in the shoulder all its force expends. 
 In William's liand bright gleams the naked blade 
 Of his short sword for such adventure made. 
 The flashing steel, now dreadful to the view, 
 With strenuous arm across the throat ho drew. 
 Forth spouts the blood, the boar sinks to his knees, 
 And quick the Norman doth that moment seize : 
 The sword is raised, is plunged into his side, 
 Twice, thrice, and strong, in quick succession plied. 
 The vanquished brute wheels feebly rc.i ;d and round. 
 Then totters, reels, falls prone upon the Jiround. 
 Now all approach, his wondrous bulk sljuire, 
 And crowd around to see him there e:q>m;. 
 He weaker grows and gasps at length for breath 
 One spasm more, his limbs relax in death. 
 
 The Norman Prince to Rouen now returned. 
 And there the wreck of many a hope he learned. 
 When this announcement to the duke was made, 
 And Harold's deeds were artfully pourtrayed, 
 He neither words, nor fury could restrain. 
 Nor his firm mind its self-control maintain ; 
 Fierce oaths he swore long pacing to and fro, 
 Amazed, incensed and breathing vengeance now. 
 As when the lion springs upon his prey, 
 And sees unhurt his victim speed away, 
 
185 
 
 nis blooa-shot eye pursues him in liis flight, 
 And glares in fury 'mi.l the glo, n of night ; 
 The roar of rage, of hunger then resounds. 
 With deeper Jiorror thr.)ugh the desert hounds ; 
 So Wilham now, his grasp upon a crown, 
 Chafes in the wrath of highest hopes o'erthrown ;- 
 Then calm he grew, though still were unsuppress'd, 
 The stormy passions raging in >us breast. 
 
 Fr. .m dreams of empire sudden he awoke, 
 And promptly now a council did convoke,— 
 Odo, Fitzosberne, and Lanfranc came there, 
 And others too their Sov'reign'i schemes top'mre. 
 Boon all assembled. Long that council sat, 
 In anxious thought, in calm yet keen debate. 
 And William first, deep anger in his breast. 
 In sokmn words the council thus addressed : 
 
 " Illustrious friends, great guardians of my throne, 
 My firm support through many a peril gone. 
 To-day I learned, and that from truthful source, 
 King Edward's death and Harold's perjured course. 
 The aged Prince with vears and sorrow worn, 
 And by disease and many a care o'erbome, 
 A few days since did yield his latest breath, 
 And sought repose, the long repose of death. 
 The following morn and with unseemly haste, 
 This pious monarch in his tomb was placed. 
 Nor passed that day ere Harold's hand too bold. 
 Before the relics of the king were cold, 
 Tlie sceptre seized, unmindful of his fame. 
 In spite of all that Edgar's rights could claim ; 
 

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186 
 
 Regardless, too, of that great oath he swore, 
 And of the sanction such engagement bore. 
 That oath that promise to my cause were given 
 On holy shrine, and in the face of heaven. 
 His solemn vow I need not here recall. 
 On sacred relics, sworn before you all. 
 It was, besides. King Edward's wish well known. 
 That I one day should sit upon his throne. 
 'Tis my resolve for your and my renown. 
 As God*s my judge, in arms to claim the crown, 
 To cite Duke Harold to renounce his state. 
 Nor of my right the smallest part abate. 
 Your counsel grave I gladly now would share, 
 And your advice implore you to declare." 
 
 A pause ensued and deep were all impressed. 
 And anxious thought each painfully oppressed. 
 Odo at length the gloomy silence broke. 
 And thus to William first in order spoke : 
 "Most puissant Prince ! since counsel we demand 
 From these thy nobles of the Norman land. 
 No message I to Harold would transmit. 
 Let him foreswear, usurp, as he deem fit. 
 The perjured deed, the wrongful act is done ; 
 Nor, if disposed, could he renounce the throne. 
 Of his own race, he claims and keeps the lead. 
 And merits, too, by many a warlike deed. 
 Free chosen, crowned by a great nation's will. 
 Proud England's throne in Edward's place to fill. 
 That prmce thou knowest his valor and his pride. 
 And by that choice he firmly will abide. 
 
187 
 
 'Twerc idle, then, compliance to demand 
 From the great ruler of so famed a land. 
 That martial Prince, renown'd and skiH'd in arms, 
 Bred up in camps, inured to war's alarms, 
 With scorn would answer-jour just claim disown- 
 If now requested to renounce a throne. 
 I would consult the Council of the State, 
 And levy armies for this fierce debate. 
 Be firm, be just ; decisive be thj course, 
 And claim thy rights directly and by force." 
 This council bold Prince Odo did declare. 
 And great the weight it had with many there. 
 Then rose Fitzo?berne, dear to William's heart. 
 And his advice thus briefly did impart : 
 
 " Illustrious Prince i my first advice would be, 
 No message now to send beyond the ssa. 
 At once convoke the vassals of the land ; 
 To them declare what your just rights demand. 
 If they applaud the measures you would take. 
 And your great cause their own will truly make. 
 Then armies, fleets, collect from everv source, 
 And back remonstrance by o'erwhelmin"' force. 
 Then I Avould send some noble of renown, 
 To summon Harold to renounce the crown ; 
 And to avert all chance of future strife. 
 Give him the Princess Adelize to wife. 
 If he refuse, in these essentials fail, 
 He then should know, by war you must prevail, 
 A war foreboding ruin and disgrace. 
 To his great house and all the Saxon race ; 
 
188 
 
 Tliat with the cliivalry of many a land, 
 Your foes must war in conflict hand to hand ; 
 Most one so perjured, lost to sense of shame, 
 So dead to honor and a warrior's fame. 
 To urge your right, your right to England's throne, 
 These are the means, and this the way alone. 
 Befitting you and your most righteous cause, 
 And of your realm will claim the just applause. 
 Then will great chieftains lead their valiant bands, 
 And bear your sway o'er all the Saxon lands." 
 
 Full many now deep consultation hold ; 
 Some were for peace, but most for action bold. 
 The Prince, though calm, with keen and boding eye 
 Perceives them cold and wavering in reply. 
 Some rose to speak, who all their fears explained ; 
 Those feebly spoke, in silence these remained. 
 The Prince, at length, tho' patient of debate. 
 Requests that each should his opinion state. 
 
 Among the nobles then assembled there. 
 Was one great name, and long renown'd in war, — 
 Raoule, a Norman of the earliest race. 
 Who througn three centuries his line could trace, 
 And in the lapse of generations past. 
 Undying lustre on that name was cast. 
 His fiery youth, his manhood's brighter day. 
 His wisdom now when these had passed away, 
 Were all devoted to the Norman crown. 
 His country's glory and his chiefs renown ; 
 From his first years T)uke William he had loved, 
 And through dark times had his affection proved. 
 
189 
 
 When thickening jerila round his boyhood grew, 
 
 Raoule was there as brave as he was true. 
 
 On many a field, when death was all around, 
 
 Raoule and William sternly kept their ground ; 
 
 And side by side, 'midst living and the slain. 
 
 They spread dismay anu slaughter o'er the plain, 
 
 On battle's day, and in the weary camp, 
 
 Naught could his courage, naught his zeal could damp. 
 
 And through the starry, anxious watch of night, 
 
 From midnight hour until the dawn of light, 
 
 WiHiam and he were oft together seen, 
 
 Wand'ring around the watchfire lights between ; 
 
 'Mid silent ranks where sleeping warriors lay, 
 
 And dreamt of glory on the coming day. 
 
 When years had fled, and in the course of time. 
 
 That warhke prince had reached stern manhood's prime, 
 
 Raoule he had still ever by his side. 
 
 In pc'l calm, in council a true guide. 
 
 FuL e score years ':hat chieftain now had seen. 
 
 Yet cleai his mind as it had eve been ; 
 
 Now from his seat serenely he arose, 
 
 And thus to William did his thoughts disclose : 
 
 " Great Prince and Nobles — friends all present here — 
 To you my counsel I would now declare : 
 Old I have grown and weak 'mong warlike men. 
 Though once my name was not unknown. Since then 
 Long years have pass'd. Through many a troubled scene 
 The trials of my later life have been ; 
 Though of all else long since I was bereft, 
 High hopes I have for Prince and country left. 
 
190 
 
 Before my duty have I ever quailed ? 
 
 Or in devotion to my Sovereign failed ? 
 
 Long my land's interest honor I have sought, 
 
 And for its safety, glory I have fought 
 
 Beside the Princes of the Norman race, 
 
 Who back to RoUo their high Uneage trace. 
 
 That famous Prince and his companions won 
 
 This sov'reign land, when warlike deeds were done ; 
 
 And the long line of matchless warriors since. 
 
 Did for their subjects oft their zeal evince. 
 
 They've fixed our frontiers, firm, secure, afar. 
 
 And ruled this realm with high and zealous care. 
 
 From Anjou, Brittanny our soil extends, 
 
 To that deep sea which all the north defends ; 
 
 From River Eure to the Atlantic coast, 
 
 A fair dominion we may proudly boast. 
 
 By neighboring states our name is held in awe, 
 
 And what we dictate, they obey as law. 
 
 In all that makes, maintains a nation's power. 
 
 Great we have grown—are growing every hour ; 
 
 Is not such heritage enough for you ? 
 
 Or must you ever seek for more, for new ? 
 
 Would you add England to the Norman crown, 
 
 And cast the diadem of Rollo down ? 
 
 What sacrifice already has been made ! 
 
 What hard exactions on our land are laid ! 
 
 If conquest still your policy should be, 
 When from such burdens will our soil be free ? 
 Though our best blood, our treasure you command. 
 Must this great people a new tax withstand ? 
 
191 
 
 But these I pass ; if in this war you fail, 
 What should such waste of toil and life avail ? 
 To what result would this great struggle lead ? 
 Weakened at home, reduced in fame abroad— 
 Not mighty Xerxes in his dread defeat. 
 Nor the ten thousand in their far retreat ; 
 Nor the dark tale of Carthagenian woes, 
 Nor Varus' legions slaughtered by their foes, 
 Would yield example of such doom forlorn 
 As then would mark you with immortal scorn. 
 But rich in all that nations covet most. 
 With fertile regions and a vast sea-coast, 
 If m this enterprise you should prevail. 
 Nor once your arms, nor policy should fail. 
 To guard such conquests armies musi remain, 
 And be augmented by perpetual drain 
 Of all the youth, the flower of our race, 
 Which future ages scarcely will replace. 
 England the seat of empire would become,— 
 England would be, remain the Norman's home,— 
 England would rise, would flourish more and more ; 
 We would decline, would languish from that hour ;' 
 Toward our frontiers armies would advance, 
 The German hosts and chivalry of France ; 
 Thus the fair Normandy would be undone. 
 And soon in clouds would set her glorious sun. 
 So that proud country we have cherished most, 
 In the great world of nations would be lost. 
 My counsel is our empire to maintain 
 And from invasion wisely to abstain." 
 
i:»2 
 
 So spoke Raoulc. Hia thoughts deep cchoea found, 
 And many listened with respect profound ; 
 But most Duke William thoughtful did appear : 
 Dark grew his brow, while with attentive ear 
 Each word he weigh'd which from the speaker fell, 
 In later times remembered but too well. 
 
 Here Geoffoj of Coutances of noble mien, 
 A prelate learned, up rose with eye serene :— 
 In paradox he oft and boldly dealt, 
 But with deep thought on loftiest subjects dwelt. 
 To his acute — his vast and ardent mind. 
 In its wide range too bold and unconfined, 
 History's page its pictured scenes unrolled, 
 And science, too, its treasures did unfold. 
 Skill'd in discourse — quick, fluent and prepared. 
 He in reply his counsel thus declared : 
 
 " It hath been said, and said indeed so well, 
 That on these words your anxious thoughts must dwell : 
 Should an invasion be the course pursued, 
 And by defeat, your great attempt subdued, 
 A fatal blow would fall on Norman power, 
 And mighty woes mark that ill-fated hour ; 
 That great exactions bow the nation down, 
 And greater still would then be widely known ; 
 That hostile nations would invade our soil. 
 And make our homes, our lands and wealth their spoil ; 
 That England, mighty both on land and wave, 
 Would o'er our fall her flag of triumph wave ; 
 And this great realm, the famous Normandy, 
 Low in the scale of living states would be. 
 
V.K] 
 
 You now arc great, prosperous and ronown'd 
 And long success your wisdom still hath crown'd, 
 No coniiucst now our greatness can enchanco, 
 Nor should our fate, our future rest on chance. 
 
 " But, if you fail, the Normans still the same, 
 Renown'd in arms and of immortal fame, 
 Would this disaster, greater still would meet, 
 And stronger grow and wiser from defeat. 
 The warlike spirit of a martial race 
 Would soon your thinn'd, your weaken'd ranks replace. 
 Oft our chief strength from our own suffering grows ; 
 So mightier armies would confront your foes. 
 And pour the deluge of their fiery wrath, 
 O'er all resistance in your onward path. 
 What foe will seek, pursue you to your door, 
 Or risk a conflict on this hostile shore ? 
 And surely now a warlike race will bear 
 Some burdens more to wage a righteous war. 
 If you relax, grow faint in cause so just, 
 You prove unworthy of a nation's trust. 
 Should the great Normans, weakness now evince, 
 Disgrace their country and desert their prince, 
 They would decline, would soil their ancient fame. 
 And lose their lofty, awe-inspiring name. 
 Methinks such enterprise, such great appeal, 
 Should rouse their valor and incite their zeal. 
 But what of failure and dread war's alarms. 
 To warriors famed, invincible in arms ? 
 Led by a chief, whose bright, ascending star, 
 Guides him in peace and rules the fate of war, 
 
11»4 
 
 You'll march in triumph o'er a prostrate land, 
 And wrest the sword from Harold's perjured hand. 
 
 " Assume, 'tis said, complete success attained, 
 And then behold your barren triumphs gained ! 
 'Tis not the interest of our Prince alone, 
 Nor Harold's crimes, nor yet the Saxon crown ; 
 "lis one great people and a kindred race, 
 Which seeks by arms, to conquer, nay, efface 
 A nation proud, by valor still upheld, 
 
 Thougli to its doom all darkly now impelled, 
 
 A work of war and settlemont combined. 
 
 In which stern conquest no repose will find. 
 
 Vast at first riew, its end seems great, sublime, — 
 
 Just in the present, great in future time. 
 
 Yet all is force : one race must be estranged, 
 
 Their laws perchance, their language must be changed ; 
 
 And though subdued, nay overcome by fate, 
 
 They'll view their con(iueror with undying hate ; 
 
 Revolt must come, and bleeding on will hold 
 
 To far traditions, which can ne'er grow cold. 
 
 Then add to these the wounds, the fatal strife. 
 
 That mark the struggle for a nation's life, — 
 
 These and like thoughts, the wisest here have weighed, 
 
 And stern reproach to war and conquest made. 
 
 " It may be just, in venturing to reply- 
 To view our duty with a keener eye— 
 The work of conquest oft its woes redeems, 
 And, more than tliat, to man a blessing seems. 
 Mysterious laws still rule the moral scene. 
 And through the past their course divine hath been. 
 
War stirs, in,,,cls the dormant minds of men - 
 Renews their hope,, fresh life infuses ti.cn •-! 
 ^cw laws, ideas, systems sprea.ls abroad •- 
 Difiuses culture with the word of God ■- 
 
 'ri'roughout all time, the iron arm of might 
 Enforced, enforces what we ,ieem the ri^ht 
 
 l;arm the East, beneath her cloudless skies, 
 rhe stoned realm of early conquest lies. 
 We turn, alas ! to many a famed abode. 
 Where suns of glory o'er these lands have glowed • 
 
 «acMacktln.oughdim,renownManddistn:tL 
 To wondrous scenes, 'mid soft and a.ure climes- 
 
 Uerfertde plains, to cities famous old 
 
 And fabled gardens of that orient world- 
 
 O'er vale and mount and streams that livin-^ smUe 
 
 And wind afar by many a shady isle, 
 
 W -se shores are wooded, dark with olden trees, 
 
 Which spread their foliage to the passing breeze 
 
 And, caught from flowers all wildly blooming there, 
 The sweetest perfumes fill the summer air 
 
 ^ohan echoes of the eve, the mom. 
 
 By sighing winds through sacred groves are borne. 
 
 But even here, deep slumbering on their thrones. 
 
 Sat s eeped m vice, old Earth's imperial drones : 
 
 And all was crime, dark ruin and repose, 
 
 Until a warrior, conquering king arose. 
 
 The star of empire Alexander leads. 
 
 And o'er all Asia his dominion spreads 
 Astonished nations see his car approach, 
 And veteran armies on their march encroach 
 
190 
 
 They hacten trembling to dark fields of fame, 
 To add new lustre to their conqueror's name. 
 Tottering empires, tyrannies forlorn, 
 Relentless systems, cruel and outworn, 
 Were by his arms all swept away, o'crbome. 
 What deathless glory he hath loft behind ! 
 What blazing light was that immortal mind ! 
 Had he in Macedonia held his sway. 
 Nor e'er gone forth upon his meteor way ! 
 If he of peace, of ease alone could boast. 
 Perchance his kingdom that great prince had lost. 
 Too early death removed him from the scene. 
 Where his renown, triumphant course had been. 
 Had riper years the youthful hero schooled. 
 How blest the land, his warlike virtues ruled ! 
 What happy realms had grown beneath his sway. 
 When on the world had dawn'd that cloudless day ! 
 Then Grecian thought had realized her dreams. 
 And wak'ning nations shared her brighter beams. 
 Still first in arms, alike in arts of peace. 
 He looms through time the foremost man of Greece. 
 Bright, hapless Greece ! oh ! still remembered well, 
 Those plains on which thy patriot heroes fell : — 
 Thy feats of arras which there were proudly done, 
 And fields of honor future glory won. 
 In times remote, from thy immortal coasts 
 All vanquish'd fled proud Persia's baffled hosts. 
 Names, deeds and thoughts together there unite, 
 And spread a halo o'er that land of light. 
 Yes ! see what Greece by valor, arms sustained — 
 What fertile realms, what mighty name attained ! 
 
197 
 
 Was it hj poaec the Romans too prevailed ? 
 
 Did they debate until they were assailed 't 
 
 Did not their legions on frontiers afar, 
 
 Unfurl the standards of perpetual war ? 
 
 Di<l not her sword, thro' great and warlike times, 
 
 Maintain her conquests o'er barbarian climes ? 
 
 And 'mid the wreck of ages, at this hour. 
 
 We trace the march of her imperial power ; 
 
 Where'er the dreams of her ambition led, 
 
 Where'er her sway and civilization sjiread, 
 
 Tlie wisdom, genius and the i.te of Rome 
 
 Will live, instruct us thro' far times to come. 
 
 What wealth and power Rome and Greece could boast ! 
 
 When will their laws, their intellect be lost ? 
 
 They ne'er can die, till long and deepening thought 
 
 The minds of men yet loftier truths have taught." 
 
 Tlio' pale those rays, tho' cold may shine thos" beami, 
 
 They'll light our race, till lost in holier dreams. 
 
 Great Clovis built an empire in the West, 
 With letters, laws, and Christ's religion blest. 
 Behold proud Martel's, Charlemagne's great name ! 
 Each spread his empire left enduring fame. 
 And you, proud Normans, mighty deeds have done : 
 What reach of empire and what dread renown ! 
 With love of war your dauntless minds inflamed, 
 On every shore dominion you have claimed. 
 See what great Rollo and his arms achieved. 
 From kim what sway your Princes have received ! 
 By conquest this was all secured, obtained, 
 And by your arms, by laws are still maintained. 
 
198 
 
 Behold the Saxons, Danes on England*- soil ; 
 How great their conquest, and how vast their spoil 
 They still advance, how wide their limits grow. 
 And soon they'll seek your rule to overthrow. 
 Beyond the seas your sway should now extend, 
 Your power increase, your empire to defend. 
 If Harold reign, beneath his great command, 
 They will o'erwhelm you both by sea an 1 land. 
 Now gain success, let victory be you» own, 
 At once and boldly, seize the English throne. 
 Then vast your glory, great is your renown. 
 Secure repose will follow your success. 
 And saints on high such sacred cause will bless. 
 Both races soon united will become, 
 In an enduring still more glorious home. 
 A mighty empire proudly will arise, 
 Whose far renown will reach unto the skies. 
 O'er every land, your fame and power will sweep, 
 While veter^'n vabr guards you on the deep. 
 Two kindred nations will unite, combine, 
 And your great star o'er distant ages shine." 
 
 The poet thus long, eagerly declaimed. 
 But few the minds by these high words inflamed. 
 Tho' slight his influence in an hour so grave, 
 A sophist's answer to Raoule he gave. 
 Now great Lanfranc, with calm yet beaming eye. 
 Rose slowly there to counsel not reply. 
 On his clear brow shone the pure light of thought, 
 And knowledge vast, by deep enquiry sought. 
 His cheek was pale : long vigils of the mind, 
 Through lonely years had left their hues behind ; 
 
199 
 
 And in his tone, l.ig gesture and his speech, 
 Something denotes a life without reproach ; 
 f ' "measured words did every mind arrest, 
 
 Wuh thought concise and cautiously he spoke, 
 
 Whde these mild accents the deep silence broke: 
 
 Great Prince and Nobles ! men of brightest fame, 
 Now varying counsels different views proclaim ; 
 iis not my hope to reconcile dissent. 
 Nor to my words to gain all men's assent. 
 Whate er deep thought and ardent minds can do, 
 To scan that future, veiled to human view 
 Our task should be ; still seeking to explore 
 tor beacon-lights on time's unravelled shore •- 
 Foresee where storms, where perils may arise'. 
 If e er disclosed to man's enquiring eyes ; 
 er the far past, the retrospect of year^ 
 And present times, and these our hopes, our fears, 
 Hold calm reflection ; honor Heaven's law 
 And from the whole some just conclusion draw. 
 Duke Harold's crimes his friends can not disown, 
 His broken vow, his seizure of the crown. 
 An oath on relics, sacred and enshrined, ' 
 A throne, great Prince, for you and your's designed. 
 Full m our presence Harold's vows were made'; 
 We saw his hand upon the altar laid ; 
 Each word we heard, that promise spoken free. 
 An oath as sacred as man's oath could be 
 'Twere strange, indeed, if pledges so defined. 
 Should not a Prince's, Christian's conscience bind. 
 
200 
 
 We too havo heard, and all have ao believed, 
 (And why in this should any be deceived ?) 
 That Edward's love had chosen you as heir. 
 And for that trust your hopes did long prepare. 
 If this be so, and all we hear be true, 
 Harold is false to him, his oath and you. 
 Nor can foul deeds like these be e'er for"iven ; 
 They are just causes in the sight of Heaven, 
 Altho' indeed, dread war we may deplore, 
 Why you should seek, in arms, the English shore. 
 Pursue th' usurper where he may be found, 
 And hurl liim perjured, vanquished to the ground. 
 That this is just, commanded from on high. 
 No knight, no prince, no Christian, will deny. 
 The voice of martyrs speaking from the grave. 
 And living saints would this great act approve. 
 So he who rules, chastises, and destroys. 
 
 And for his ends, our feeble strength employs. 
 
 Will aid your arms, breathe blessings on your cause, 
 
 Your rights maintain and vindicate his laws. 
 
 " But what the course, great Prince, you should pursue, 
 
 That sure success, not failure, may ensue ? 
 
 And here in passing, let us first reflect. 
 
 On the resistance you must now expect. 
 
 A mighty Prince of valor and renown, 
 
 As Edward's heir, hath seized the English Crown. 
 
 We know in truth, and not from rumor's voice. 
 
 That of the nation he's the general choice. 
 
 And tho' to you a perjured prince he stands, 
 
 So known in this, soon known in other lands. 
 
201 
 
 Yet to his aid the Saxon, Dane, will fly, 
 
 And in his cause with patriot ardor die. 
 
 'Tis plain yon must for future war prepare, 
 
 And in each step, advance with cautious care. 
 
 Ureat are your aims, nay, hazardous indeed. 
 
 And so, great Prince, your enterprise will need 
 
 A holy sanction, and a firm support. 
 
 To rouse men's courage,— give success in short. 
 
 If war you make and undefined the cause, 
 
 How gain good men's, where find your own applause ? 
 
 The warlike usages of former times 
 
 May still prevail in rude and barbarous climes ; 
 
 But in this age, this realm of glorious fame, 
 
 Such deeds would be unworthy of your name. 
 
 And one great duty of the Norman race 
 Should be henceforth, for ever to eflface, 
 From their bright annals doubtful acts that cast 
 Their shadows o'er both present times and past 
 Your manners, laws, and our religion teach, 
 Your loftiest ends you peacefully should reach. 
 Before dread war 'gainst Harold you declare, 
 Before your fleets and legions you prepare, 
 To bim you should an honored envoy send, 
 Without proclaiming what your thoughts intend ; 
 Nor anger show, nor vehemence evince, 
 Nor use the language of an injured Prince. 
 His oath recal in words all free from scorn. 
 That sacred oath on holy rehcs sworn. 
 Exact no promise, full or incomplete, 
 Nor long details would I in aught repeat. 
 
202 
 
 If he refuse hia pledges to fulfil, 
 
 I would propose a further message still. 
 
 Of him require, once more, and this the last. 
 
 To calm the future and to heal the past, 
 
 And to avert all chance of warlike strife 
 
 That he should take fair Adelizo to wife. 
 
 The rest concede your purpose still to gain. 
 
 And true advantage in the end obtain. 
 
 Though this be just, 'twill fail his mind to move. 
 
 Then Papal sanction will your cause approve. 
 
 Publish afar the oath by Harold sworn. 
 
 That on his name may rest eternal scorn. 
 
 Proclaim yourself king Edward's rightful heir, 
 
 And your resolve to Christendom declare. 
 
 In vain you've sued,— you have recourse to might, 
 
 And by your arms seek to obtain your right ; 
 
 And so compelled, your cause is plain, is just, 
 
 Then in the God of battles place your trust." 
 
 Thus spoke the man of thought ; and long applause 
 Greets his discourse, pronounced in William's cause. 
 And in the torrent of approval there. 
 All present seemed with loud acclaim to share. 
 The Norman now, in tones and words sedate. 
 Thus closed the council and that long debate : 
 
 " My faithful friends, my councillors brave and wise, 
 In time to come, through tliis great enterprise, 
 My gratitude sincere, profound is due. 
 To men so just, so firm in faith as you. 
 Lanfranc the wise, each view has now combined. 
 In his profound, his pious, lofty mind. 
 
203 
 
 I will remind Duke Harold of his oath, 
 And if refused, despite his plighted faith, 
 My efforts still I truly will exert, 
 Him to convince and bloody war avert. 
 I then will claim, for so his promise stood, 
 A closer alliance with his Saxon blood. 
 This being done, and hi? assent withheld. 
 Arms I invoke, to war I am compelled."' 
 
 Now at Evreux there dwelt of highest fame, 
 A noble knight and Bohun was his name • 
 A valiant youth by William much esteemed 
 And for that trust well fitted he was deemed, 
 feome younger nobles with Count Bohun went, 
 Well pleased to be on such great errand sent, 
 ibe preparations for the journey made 
 The Norman Prince strict orders then conreyed. 
 Credentials full he also did bestow, 
 His trust to prove, his sov'reign rights to show. 
 io Bohun, too, these words immortal gave, 
 Dread war to rouse, but not a state to save' : 
 
 "To the Duke Harold, this my message bear. 
 High greetings give him, and my words declare : 
 WilLam Duke of the Normans, greets you. Sir, 
 And this the message which from him I bear • 
 That Prince reminds you (these his words, no more,) 
 Of that great oath which once to him you swore 
 On holy relics by your word, your hand. 
 Before the nobles of the Norman land.' " 
 
 King Harold then at London held his court. 
 Where his great vassals had their chief resort. 
 
204 
 
 The youthful Norman thither did repair 
 And to his presence claimed admission there. 
 Charged tho' he was with embassy so grave, 
 To him great Harold private audience gave. 
 The storm he saw too well to be deceived, 
 And hence alone, the messenger received. 
 So soon as Harold had enquiry made. 
 To him the knight in words of William said • 
 
 A VI^T ^"^' '^ '^' ^^™^"«' g^««^ yo"^ Sir, 
 And this the message which from him I bear • 
 
 That Prince reminds you (these his words, no more,> 
 Of that great oath which once to him you swore 
 On holy rehcs by your word, your hand. 
 Before the nobles of the Norman land." 
 
 A pause ensued while o'er the Monarch's brow 
 There came a cloud, a shade of passing woe. 
 He thoughtful then the Norman calmly eyed, 
 And briefly thus, in accents cold, replied : 
 " 'Tis true that I an oath to William swore : 
 That fatal act perchance I may deplore. 
 But let that pass : reproaches now are vain. 
 Nor of my wrongs would I to thee complain 
 What then I pledged did not to me belong • 
 Myself I might but not my country wrong. 
 The royal power was not mine to yield ; ° 
 In England's name that power I must shield. 
 Since that dark day of suffering and despair, 
 The pious Edward named me his sole heir. 
 This would be cause sufficient if alone. 
 To force me now to hold the English throne. 
 
205 
 To William hence convej this mj replj. 
 The only one, now sanctioned from on hirrh " 
 
 To all these Normans Harold then displayed 
 Those court'sies high to royal envoys paid 
 In all las words, his actions they could trace 
 A frank demeanor, and a princely grace. 
 A royal banquet was prepared next day. 
 With all the pomp which Kings could then display. 
 In peaal honor these young knights were held, 
 And from their minds all hostile thoughts dispelled. 
 
 iwo days elapsed, the envoy took his leave, 
 And from the King did kind farewell receive. 
 Count Bohun then proceeded on his way. 
 And Harold's words to William did convey 
 T^ie Duke received him with an anxious mind. 
 With vague distrust and eagerness combined. 
 
 " 'Tis true that I an oath to vVilliam swore : 
 ihat fatal act perchance I may deplore. 
 But let that pass : reproaches now are vain, 
 Nor of my wrongs would I to thee complain! 
 What then I pledged did not to me belon^ • 
 Myself I might but not my people wrong." 
 The royal power was not mine to yield ; 
 In England's name that power I must shield 
 Since that dark day of suffering and despair, 
 The pious Edward named me his sole heir. 
 This would be cause sufficient if alone, 
 To force me now to hold the English throne. 
 To William hence convey this my reply, 
 The only one now sanctioned from on hi^rh." 
 
206 
 
 William was calm and naught in anger said ; 
 But thoughtful looked though comment none he made. 
 With clouded brow, with accent cold and grave, 
 A second message he to Bohun gave ; 
 To Harold likewise straight to be conveyed, 
 
 " To Harold now return, this errand bear — 
 To him alone these words of mine declare : 
 ' By Duke William I am sent once more. 
 To greet you. Sire, upon the English shore. 
 A secret message now to you I bring. 
 And in these words address you as a king : 
 " To me an oath you swore in solemn form ; 
 To that I hoped your acts would all conform. 
 But this no more : that hope's forever gone, 
 And you and 1 must henceforth stand alone. 
 It was not well in truth, — but be it so ; 
 I shall not here, nor would reproach you now. 
 One hope remains, one only now is left ; 
 Of that nor I, nor you, are yet bereft. 
 You promise made, such word no knight can break,. 
 That my young daughter you to wife would take. 
 To her that pledge her father did announce. 
 Be true in this ; all else I then renounce. 
 May this avert the lowering storms of fate. 
 And heal deep wounds ere yet it prove too late." ^ 
 
 To England now Count Bohun sent again, — 
 Once more set forth upon the watery main. 
 Fierce winds arose and far the ocean swept, 
 And long at sea the wave-worn ship was kept. 
 
207 
 
 By tempests tossed, long drcarj days had parsed, 
 Ere they on shore in deep distress were cast. 
 Meantime at court great reveh-y was seen, 
 To honor Harold and to greet his queen. 
 Editha then became King Harold's bi-ide. 
 And on the throne sat by that monarch's side. 
 She with fair cheek, soft eye and auburn hair, 
 And stately beauty, age will ne'er impair, 
 Seemed purer, lovelier 'neath the evening beam. 
 Which shed its radiance on that splendid dream. 
 Yet there was sadness on that queenlike brow, 
 Prophetic shadow of some future woe, 
 A veiled gloom, mysterious, undefined. 
 That haunts her young, her o'er impassioned mind. 
 What griefs lie hid in hearts unworn by years, 
 And all unseen are watered by young tears ! 
 
 Count Bohun zealous William to obey. 
 The Monarch sought his message to convey. 
 Received he was by Harold's high command 
 With solemn state in council of the land. 
 To cold enquiry there by Harold made, 
 In timid tones and faltering then he said : 
 
 " By Duke William I am sent once more. 
 To greet you. Sire, upon the English shore. 
 A secret message now to you I bring, 
 And in these words address you as a kin^^ : 
 * To me an oath you swore in solemn form : 
 To this I hoped your acts would all conform, 
 But this no more ; that hope's for ever gone, 
 And you and I must henceforth stand alone. 
 
"^Jf^ 
 
 208 
 It was not well in truth,— but be it so ; 
 I Bhall not here, nor would reproach you now. 
 One hope remains, one only now is loft ; 
 Of that nor I, nor you are yet bereft. 
 You promise made, such word no knight can break < 
 ihat my young daughter you to wife would take. ' 
 
 To her that pledge her father did announce. 
 
 Be true in this ; all else I then renounce. 
 
 May this avert the lowering storms of fate 
 
 And heal deep wounds ere yet it prove too'late.' " 
 lo which the king with cold, rebukeful eye 
 
 In tones impressive made this stern reply • ' 
 
 " Give the Duke William these brief words from me 
 Wis preferred prayer must still rejected be 
 Inform him also, facts to you well known, 
 A Saxon queen now sits on England's throne 
 fehe 18 our wife, a nation's hope and pride 
 And o'er these realms she governs by our'side. 
 iell the proud Norman thus our fate is cast, 
 And of these errands, let this be the last " 
 
 From England Bohun straightway now departs, 
 
 Seeks he great Duke, this stern reply imparts; 
 And when the knight this final message brought, 
 And secret audience of his sov'reign sought, 
 nie Prince in council with his nobles sat, 
 In anxious thought on great concerns of state, 
 And though for answer cold, nay harsh, prepared, 
 
 Before them all this message was declared, 
 lliere Bohun soon the eager silence broke, 
 
 And thu. a. Harold's haughty language spoke: 
 
209 
 
 ills proffered prayer must still rejected be 
 Inform him also, facts to you well known, 
 A Saxon queen now sits on England's throne. 
 She .8 our wife, a nation's hope and pride, 
 
 And o'er these realms she governs by our side. 
 Tel the proud Norman thus our fate is cast, 
 And of those errands, let this be the last " 
 
 On anxious ears these words portentous fell. 
 And, thus proclaimed, did their last hopes dispel. 
 The Duke mcensed, with fierce, indignant oath, 
 let loose the demon of long-hoarded wrath. 
 
 H,s scowling brow and spirit raging high, 
 Seemed foes, and flUe, and reason to defy 
 
 His frame convulsed, clenched hand and flashing eye, 
 Ilis stately ..ind, his proud, unyielding soul, ' 
 
 Once more had lost their high and stem control. 
 And then he paused and in deep thought alone. 
 These words he uttered in revengeful tone : 
 Withm one year, all I have asked I'll take 
 And of that kingdom hunting-ground will make." 
 But calmer now his words and accents grew 
 
 And soon that prince and nobles all withdrew. 
 Thus these proud sov'reigns, mighty men of war, 
 Verge to that conflict, now alas ! too near. 
 Prelude of woe ' dnrl- f;,v,« r- 
 A .• , 7 ' ^""^ °^ conquest came, 
 
 A nation s doom and deeds of deathlesB fame. 
 
BOOK EIGHTH. 
 
 ^KQUMENT. 
 
 Fierce r^mtment of tLc Du'.c , . .vorm.ndy.-Ula .lonunclatlon of Harold -III, 
 
 proclamafion to Europe and appeal to IJomo.-Jtertoction, on the fall of l-agan. 
 
 »m and th« rise of the I'apal •■ower.-Tho Kmb.«,y to tbo Popo-Tho complaint 
 
 l«.d before Popo Alexander tlio Second. Citation of Harold.-Hls refusal to 
 
 amar before the ...pren.e Pontiff at Itome.-Consi.tory at the La.eran.-Hildc 
 
 brand William', cause i. brought before the Popo and CardinaU.-Their 
 
 llTZT'"' °' """^■^™"''-^n«'y 'debate and tinal Judgment of tho 
 
 I v.rt'7 M 'T'" "" """■"'' ""'" " C""""-'™"''' ^«nner and King to bo 
 
 eliv re., to tho Duko of Normandy.-Lxcommunicatiou launched against 
 
 arold.-Deparlure of the ambassador., and their arrival at Kouen.-Jo, of 
 
 W illiam, who linally resolvca on tho invajion of Kugland. 
 
 With vengeful thoughts Duke William now inflamed, 
 
 Harold's misdeeds to Normandy proclaimed ; 
 
 Then, far as rumor in those times could reach, 
 
 His censure harsh the Saxon did impeach ; 
 
 As perjured Prince, usurper he was shown', 
 
 While William's wrongs to Europe were made known : 
 
 Thro' all the regions of the west were heard 
 
 His lend complaint, his stern, indignant word. 
 To scop'ei-d !<ings this jreot appeal was made, 
 An-! ^:jil,!d aiuUtion all its ire betrayed ; 
 But Rome's high Court he chiefly now addressed, 
 And claimed from it these wrongs should bo redressed, 
 That sacred power had heathen creeds expelled, 
 And o'er mankind a wide dominion held ; 
 With holy Banner of the Faith unfurled, 
 Supreme it ruled o'er all the Christian world : 
 
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 Of States great arbiter it had become, 
 And held them vassals to the See of Rome. 
 
 Of war and change a thousand years had fled, 
 Since on the Cross the Great Redeemer bled. 
 When He was sent to save our fallen race. 
 Far o'er the Earth the Roman sway had place : 
 Rome's civilization and her rule had spread, 
 And in her chains proud Nations had been led ; 
 Naught could the march of her imperial power 
 Arrest, divert, in its o'erwhelming hour. 
 Rome, long the sovereign, tyrant of mankind. 
 Had every fate in her career combined : 
 Invasion, conquest, freedom and renown. 
 The Despot's wrath, then anarchy, decline ; 
 Languor, convulsion, feverish hope, despair. 
 In turns prevailed thro' mournful epochs there ;— 
 Until her arms, laws, policy supreme. 
 Had lost their vigor in that withering dream 
 Of sensual joys, of luxury, repose 
 Which left her victim to avenging woes. 
 Rome's wisdom, strength, were verging to decay 
 Beneath a cruel, all corrupting sway. 
 Cold o'er that land of genius and of fame. 
 With sullen gloom the brooding twilight came. 
 And Error sat upon her midnight throne, 
 Wielding her sceptre o'er a world undone, 
 Till in the radiance of its morninir lifht 
 The sun of truth arose upon that night. 
 Shining afar o'er eras of the past, 
 By Pagan dreams and impious creeds o'ercast. 
 
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 Before that beam upon the Empire shed 
 The gods of Eome and heathen darkness fled. 
 
 -Time passed away ; at length the Word had gained 
 A las m. triumph where the C.sars reigned. 
 Oh. Heaven descended, just and sacred power, 
 Earth s ark of hope thro' manj an evil hour, 
 From Calvary, dark scene of guilt and woe, 
 ±hy tidings spread, new teachings to bestow. 
 
 Immortal Truth! the truth revealed of God 
 Erected shrines where fierce barbarians trod,' 
 Who, awed, subdued, lent each a listening ear, 
 And „,idst Rome's ruins shed a softening tear. 
 When vengeance nursed in many a distant clime, 
 erturned that fabric built by war and crime ;- 
 When countless hordes from regions of the North, 
 With arms and fury to their work came forth, 
 Spreading dismay thro' all the Roman world 
 And to the dust that proud dominion hurled :- 
 Tho drunk with carnage, dyed with blood of foes. 
 They learn, they weep o'er the Redeemer's woes ,- 
 Til. hvmg saints, and Christian truth no more 
 -ihe persecutions of the heathen bore. 
 After this reign of violence and wrong, 
 As ice in spring, cold northern shores°alon<. 
 Melts 'neath the splendour of the vernal be^ms, 
 And to the Ocean floats upon the streams, 
 So superstition and the creeds of old 
 Which on men's minds had such pernicious hold. 
 Dissolved beneath that pure and Hving ray 
 And to time's ocean floated far away.° 
 
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 A brighter sun, Earth's verdure will renew, 
 
 And God's great truths will fall like evening dew 
 
 Upon the sad and wearied souls of men 
 
 Darkened by old and fatal errors then. 
 
 After long centuries had rolled away. 
 
 The Papal rule had grown to sovereign sway 
 
 O'er mighty nations, monarchs of renown. 
 
 Who owned obedience to the Triple Crown. 
 
 And now the Church, by missions and decrees. 
 
 The faith had borne to Earth's remoter seas ;— 
 
 A holy creed, to mankind widely taught, 
 
 The great atonement by Christ's sufferings bought. 
 
 The soul enslaved had found a full release 
 
 Thro' the pure teachings of the Prince of Peace :— 
 
 High o'er the prostrate idols of the past 
 
 That Power divine was thus enthroned at last :— 
 
 And Kome, the place of her dominion stood, , 
 
 Tho' often there had flowed the martyr's blood. 
 'Twas at this time Pope Alexander reigned 
 
 As sovereign Pontiff, Papal sway maintained. 
 
 With deep design and with well known intent, 
 
 To him by William embassies were sent. 
 
 First from the Vatican redress to claim 
 
 For wrongs far bruited by the breath of fame. 
 
 Robert, a priest of Jumieges went there— 
 
 And thither also did Lanfranc repair. 
 
 Of WiUiam's claims, and how he was betrayed. 
 
 They to the Pope a full disclosure made. 
 
 For that high purpose they to Rome had gone. 
 
 And great the zeal by both these churchmen shown. 
 
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 The Pontirs ear, securely they had gained, 
 And WiUiam's plans had secretly explained : 
 For when the council of the Prince was o'er, 
 And ere Count Bohun reached the English shore 
 Long ere reply of Harold could be sent 
 With first announcement of his firm intent 
 To hold the Crown thro' weal-alike and woe 
 In stern defiance of his wary foe. 
 These men, the wisest of the Norman land, 
 In secret left by Wilham's wish, command, 
 ^ut when full answer great King Harold made 
 And his resolve so promptly had conveyed, 
 Guilbert of Liseux, churchman of renown 
 To Rome was sent to claim the English Crown 
 He for the task, for such great suit prepared, 
 As envoy thither in quick haste repaired ; 
 And to the Pontiff, in supreme conclave, 
 A full report of Harold's answer gave. 
 A': that intrigue, that eloquence could do, 
 Was urged, was argued oftentimes anew •' 
 And from that Pontiff, long for justice famed, 
 Against the Saxon stem decree was claimed. 
 First it was said, that many a year before, 
 The youthful Alfred, on the EngUsh shore. 
 Had faUen victim to a murderous hand, 
 By Godwin prompted, or by his command ; 
 That Harold's father on a festive day, 
 T^he youthful Prmce most foully did betray. 
 Then to the Pope it further was declared, 
 That Harold had by treacherous act prepared 
 
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 Th' unjust discharge from Canterbury's See, 
 
 Of Norman Robert, destined still to be 
 
 Of Harold's race, the unforgiving foe. 
 
 Who ever sought that Prince's overthrow. 
 
 This famous churchman was Duke William's friend, 
 
 And to his cause did all his influence lend. 
 
 High in the Church shone this great prelate's name, 
 
 And much did Rome his harsh dismissal blame. 
 
 Prince Harold's share in this injustice done, 
 
 As a great crime, had to the Pontiff gone. 
 
 Added to these, the Norman did lay claim 
 
 To England's throne in Edward's royal name. 
 
 Both as a kinsman of the King deceased, 
 
 And by words spoken e'er his exile ceased, 
 
 And by decree upon his bed of death, 
 
 Tho' faintly uttered with his dying breath. 
 
 As vile usurper, Harold thus appeared, 
 
 By every law to be denounced, abhorred. 
 
 As such he boldly seized the English Crown 
 
 Despite the rights he long, too well had known. 
 
 These high and solemn accusations urged 
 
 Were all in one of greater import merged ; 
 
 The horrid crime of sacrilege was laid. 
 
 Which aU the Saxon's guilty mind betrayed ; 
 
 And here his oath at Bayeux was assigned, 
 
 And scorn of relics with that vow combined. 
 
 The violation of that oath was shown 
 
 When he usurped the great Confessor's throne. 
 
 And noT^ a perjured, recreant Prince he stood. 
 
 With guUty soul, and stained with kinsman's blood. 
 
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 Before the Pontiflf artfully were laid 
 These graver charges, and harsh comments made. 
 And to the Pope, by Lanfranc's friendly zeal 
 Was now preferred this last and high appeal, 
 That the usurper might be cited there 
 And for his crimes a full defence prepare. 
 And he, by William, further was implored, 
 Should Harold fail strict justice to afford:— 
 Should he refuse to lay the sceptre down 
 And yield possession of the English Crown, 
 That excommunication should against him run 
 And he and his forever be undone ; 
 That England, then, by his supreme decree, 
 Should be declared to an invasion free. 
 The prey, the prize of William's warlike hand, 
 Should he prove victor o'er that famous land ; 
 That he would hold that Kingdom of the Pope, 
 And aid him ever with his foes to cope. 
 He claimed a blessing on his holy cause, 
 Such as would gain all righteous men's applause. 
 'Twas thus King Harold, Lord of nations free. 
 They sought to bring before the Holy See, 
 And make him there his honor, crown defend, 
 And with his own a nation's cause to blend. 
 Each charge was made, in words precise and clear ; 
 To answer them the Saxon must appear. 
 Forthwith an envoy to the monarch sent. 
 Set forth the Pontiff's nuld but grave intent ; 
 But vamly did the Pope his presence claim. 
 Such act will ne'er dishonor his great name ; 
 
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 In language firm, but reverent, ho declared, 
 
 Tho' for obedience to just law prepared. 
 
 Yet, as the Ruler of a sovereign land 
 
 He would obey no foreign Prince, command. 
 
 These brief, stern words concisely did convey 
 
 To Rome's high Court the patriot King's reply. 
 
 " Tell the Pontiff, to him this message bear, 
 
 " That with respect his warning voice I hear ; 
 
 " His solemn charge with reverence I have heard, 
 
 " And listen humbly to his sacred word ; 
 
 " Religious censures on my head may fall, 
 
 "And as a Christian I will bear them all, 
 
 " What I in person may have done that's wrong 
 
 " To him to punish rightly doth belong ; 
 
 " Let one be sent who this great cause may try, 
 
 " And with his order promptly I'll comply ; 
 
 " But England's monarch ne'er by just decree,"! 
 
 " For pubKc crimes, to Rome can cited be, 
 
 " ^"t ^^^^ be judged in councils of the free. 
 
 " My rights as Sovereign I shall never yield, 
 
 " My own dishonour or misdeeds to shield. 
 
 " This my last word, and this my firm resolve, 
 
 " Let him condemn as he may now absolve." 
 
 Harold's reply thus promptly having learned, 
 To Rome the envoy forthwith had returned ; 
 And to the Pope this answer now conveyed. 
 Had on the Pontiff deep impression made. ' 
 
 At Rome there dwelt, and then of rising fame, 
 A holy man and Hildebrand by name. 
 In those far times, a churchman of renown 
 And firm supporter of the Triple Crown ; 
 
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 Renowned for zeal, well known, revered at Rome ; 
 
 From Cluny's Halls that learned priest had come ; 
 
 He soon great chancellor of the church was made, 
 
 And in that trust the loftiest aims displayed. 
 
 Of daring soul and intellect profound, 
 
 His bold reforms by some were thought unsound. 
 
 To stately influence Hildebrand had grown 
 
 And swayed the Church by maxhns yet unknown ;- 
 
 io bear her rule o'er every kingly power, 
 
 Each thought engaged, employed each thoughtful hour. 
 
 When Rome's last Pontiff died, in gloomy day, 
 
 The present Pope he raised to sovereign sway ; 
 
 And well sustained, despite imperial wrath. 
 
 And safely bore thro' all his troubled path. 
 
 In after times, great HUdebrand arose 
 
 To rule supreme, and baffled still his foes ;— 
 
 The faithful governed with despotic sway, 
 
 And raised religion to a brighter day. 
 
 With schism, simony, and darker crimes, 
 
 Long he contended in those barbarous times ; 
 
 Rut patient still, his era had not come 
 
 With awe t. fill the Christian world and Rome. 
 
 In solemn council, grave with pubUc care. 
 The famous suit of William then to hear, 
 
 The Pontiff sat, with cardinals around, ' 
 Advice to give, as each in turn was bound. 
 The Lords of thought, elite of all mankind. 
 Renowned for learning and true zeal combined : 
 With air of gods, majestic and serene, 
 Men fit to sway earth's sceptres they had been. 
 
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 At Lateran that consistory was held, 
 And on that day, Rome's splendour was upheld ; 
 Lanfranc and Robert, with Guilbert were there, 
 Tho' in debate these envoys could not share. 
 But foremopt still with aspect grave and cold, 
 Stern Hildebrand did place of honor hold. 
 The light of mind shone from that cloudless eye, 
 Calm rays of genius which can never die. 
 Around the hall, priests hurried to and fro. 
 Thro' doors and corridors, above, below. 
 Till solemn silence in the assembly reigned 
 And each intent, expectant look maintained. 
 The Sovereign Pontiff, from his throne of state, 
 In these brief words invites the high debate : 
 " Reverend Lords and holy brethren here, 
 " Harold, you know, was cited to appear 
 " And answer charges by Duke William made, 
 " On which our judgment hath been long delayed, 
 
 In this high court, of Christendom the head, 
 " Harold hath failed in his defence to plead ; 
 " And by his answer to our summons given, 
 " Defies the power which comes to us from heaven j 
 " He, nor admits, nor doth deny those crimes, 
 " So widely known, deplored in Christian times ; 
 " As King of England, he maintains he's free 
 " From all allegiance to the Holy See ; 
 " Denying firmly our unquestioned right 
 " To sway that Kingdom by vicegerent might ; 
 " His rude reply resistance doth disclose. 
 And to you now misdeeds I should expose : 
 
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 " He, still perverse, sustained by rebel pride, 
 
 " Hath all our power and right alike defied ; 
 
 " Therefore, by us, he must be justly judged, 
 
 " To this our Church and God's command are pledged. 
 
 " Of Harold's errors you are all aware, 
 
 " You will by council in our judgment share." 
 
 Tancredi then, a man of stately mien. 
 Bespoke a hearing in that solemn scene. 
 With speech concise, with rapid thought expressed. 
 He in few words, the Pontiff thus addressed ; 
 
 " Of God the great Vicegerent now on earth, 
 " Here I would speak brief words of earnest truth. 
 " Of my compeers, some now with gifted speech, 
 " May me approve, or will my views impeach ; 
 " My heart, my reason dictates what I say, 
 " Tho' accents cold my meaning may convey : 
 " Much I would urge, since I your counsel share, 
 " Duke William's suit upon your sacred care. 
 " A vaHant Prince, of famed and great command, 
 " Beloved of God, renowned in many a land. 
 
 " A mighty race these Normans e'er have been, 
 
 " And aid have lent thro' many a trying scene ; 
 
 " Their arms, devotion, valor, still may be 
 
 " Of signal service to the Holy See. 
 
 " Our sacred Church, whate'er their deeds may show, 
 
 " They still adore as work of God below. 
 
 " Against the heathen, heretics, their sword 
 
 " Speak more directly than your solemn word ; 
 
 " And other motives should your judgment sway, 
 
 " Why your decree stem censure should convey. 
 
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 *' Should you refuse, in these disastrous times, 
 " To punish Harold's high and many crimes, 
 " Such great example others will betray 
 " To deeds more wrongful on some later day ; 
 " And so relaxing mankind may defy 
 *' Your ancient rule however pure and high ; 
 *' Foul sacrilege should no exemption claim, 
 " Tho' great may be the proud offender's name. 
 " Perjury, murder, tho' from kings they come, 
 " Should not escape their just and public doom. 
 " You should o'er all exert a stem control, 
 " To curb man's reason and his pride of soul. 
 *' These crimes alone full punishment demand 
 " From your chastizing, apostolic hand ; 
 " And as the Norman hath allegiance shown, 
 " Appealing still unto your voice and throne, 
 " To his great cause, I would our sanction give, 
 " By benediction which good deeds receive ; 
 " I would proclaim him soldier of the Lord, 
 
 And England, his, if conquered by his sword. 
 
 I'd punish Harold ; he your summons slights, 
 " By interdiction from all sacred rights." 
 
 This bold advice attracted notice there, 
 And many seemed this counsel then to share, 
 Then next Visconti, one of eye serene, 
 Of thoughtful brow, of grave and reverend mien, 
 The Sovereign Father of the Faithful spoke, 
 And thus the silence of the conclave broke : 
 
 " Most Holy Chief, and ye who guide the Church, 
 " Of truth of justice, ever still in search. 
 
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 The duty's mine, and also of you all, 
 
 Advice to give, our solemn thoughts recall 
 
 To matters grave, involved in this debate, 
 
 And our conviction freely here to state. ' 
 
 For one I am, must ever be, opposed 
 
 To schemes of conquest which are now proposed; 
 
 I give no saiict'on, none will e'er extend 
 
 To wars, to crusades which directly tend 
 
 To the subversion of a Christian race. 
 
 Who live in hopes of God's peculiar grace. 
 
 No wisdom, justice, in such plan I find, 
 
 Nor aught which can, or should our counsel bind 
 
 'Tis said that Wijliam's heir to England's throne, 
 
 And justly claims her Sceptre for his own ; 
 
 That Harold hath, by open fraud and force, 
 
 Usurped and followed still his perjured course. 
 
 But in such cause, 'tis not our part to share ; 
 
 When Princes strive, let other men beware. 
 
 To me it seems our duty still should be 
 
 From strife of kings to keep our counsels free. 
 
 On all the crimes now laid to Harold's charge. 
 
 With dubious speech I will not now enlarge ; ' 
 
 Had your high summons to that monarch gone. 
 
 To answer these and answer these alone. 
 
 Assured I am, that promptly he'd obey,' 
 
 And his great name defend upon this day. 
 
 To judge this sacrilege, a legate send, 
 
 If such there be, let Harold it defend. 
 
 This righteous course hath oft been tried before, 
 
 And great the fruits in cause of right it bore. 
 
224 
 
 " If Harold's guilty of a broken row, 
 
 " Let deep dishonour stamp his kingly brow. 
 
 " Convinced I am that he will make defence 
 
 " Without evasion, or a false pretence. 
 
 " To me, in truth, it seems that oath was given 
 
 " Without a sanction from the will of Heaven. 
 
 " Was there coercion, fraud, perchance surprise ? 
 
 " Was their deception, practise of disguise ? 
 
 " If this be so, whoso the dishonoured name ? 
 
 " Should we the Saxon for such action blame ? 
 
 " These men I know, and much I do mistrust 
 
 " This charge on Harold by the Norman thrust. 
 
 " Be firm, be just, and Harold will appear ; 
 
 " But ere we judge, the Saxon we must hear. 
 
 " To you he promptly a defence will send, 
 
 " And liis renown from sacrilege defend. 
 
 " My counsel is : your sanction still withhold 
 
 " From Norman schemes, too crafty and too bold." 
 
 A murmer of approval then went round. 
 And many there concurring too were found. 
 All William's friends, save Hildebrand, seem'd awed. 
 And silence kept, while others would applaud. 
 Urbano then, a holy man, arose. 
 And briefly thus did his advice propose : 
 
 " Most Holy Pontiff, and you fathers here, 
 " To you my counsel I would now declare : 
 " First and chiefly I denounce the course 
 " Which some suggest, the arm and thought of force. 
 " Pepin and Charlemagne did lend their aid 
 " To Holy Church, and in her cause displayed 
 
oor. 
 
 " Tlic glory, influcnco of immortal names, 
 " And their high deeds our gratitude proclaims. 
 II These potent monarciis, by God's great design, 
 " Did vast dominion to your rule assign ; 
 " These you sjiould sway with an impartial hand, 
 " As Sovereign Trince, by Heaven's just command. 
 " O'er mmor states, which have true fealty sworn, 
 " Parental rule you wisely still have borne ; 
 II But warlike nations freedom will maintain, 
 " And their subjection you will claim in vain. 
 " God's holy word, the Church's high decree 
 I' Alone should guide us, ond our law should be. 
 " On the fierce passions of our fallen race, 
 " Our duty is a strong restraint to place ; 
 " To watch, admonish, punish is your right, 
 " By sacred means, but rot by arm of might. 
 " By love, by fear of God's eternal wrath° 
 " Teach wicked men to tread the better path. 
 " On foreign contests, always fraught with woe, 
 " My counsel is no sanction to bestow : 
 " As mediator you may interpose, 
 " But not to aid or stimulate great foes. 
 " If Harold hath been guilty of a crime, 
 " Let him be censured, punished in due time. 
 " If he of sacrilege hath guilty been, 
 " Let no evasion the offender screen : 
 " Penance impose, but let not your decree 
 " Assert dominion o'er a nation free. 
 The great disorders which afflict our times 
 Would by such course all terminate in crimes; 
 
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 " No sacred haven would exist below 
 
 " For feeble suflferers in an age of woe ; 
 
 " No refuge then, asylum would remain, 
 
 " Or power divine, great evils to restrain ; 
 
 " Your holy name, your mission from above, 
 
 " Would be defiled, no help to men would prove.'.* 
 
 Next from his seat, grave Hildebrand arose. 
 And calmly then did his high thoughts disclose : 
 His was the modest mien, the thoughtful eye. 
 The mind long taught on reason to rely : 
 Serene, yet earnest, firm in eacji resolve. 
 And skilful too vast projects to evolve ; 
 A master spirit, poHtic, sublime. 
 With soul deep mourning o'er an age of crime ; 
 A pure apostle of a holy creed. 
 And seeking still the Christian world to lead 
 Thro' better paths'; tho' arms and warhke might, 
 Which plunged in woe that long midoeval night, 
 He deemed were means, one means at least to gain 
 A firm dominion o'er the minds of men. 
 With studied words he first the silence broke, 
 And thud with deep and holy fervor spoke : 
 
 " Father revered, of Christendom the Lord, 
 " Guardian supreme of God's eternal word, 
 " From hence, thro' you a pure and heavenly light 
 Illumes the nations which have dwelt in night. 
 Long since hath truth dawn'd on a darkened worlds 
 " And glows where'er Christ's banner is unfurled. 
 " Your sacred throne, our holy Church doth stand, 
 " To guard to guide, reform each Christian land. 
 
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 ;;^eforetlut throne, mine now the lowliest name, 
 4'""^^fr^'^-*^^own to earth,, fame, 
 To you all humbly in this great conclave, 
 
 ^^Shoud error mingle with advice thus given, 
 
 ,:!'" be unsanctioned by the voice of Heaven 
 ^^ J^ong, sad, eventful times have gone, 
 
 Smce great St. Peter won the Martyr's Crown, 
 ^^ -To him was given to enthrone a power 
 , f '"^' "^^"^i»d until their latest hour, 
 ^^ A sway which should perdition's works assail. 
 
 And over which untruth should not prevail. 
 , ,\ *'"'* ^'^ y'^^'^ this power you uphold • 
 ^^ Against the systems and the creeds of old. 
 The hope of realms beneath your sacred sway, 
 The Church's mission is to watch, to pray, 
 ,, ™'^^ ^"^ «^«"a^-«hs, nations to control, 
 ,, ^""i^T^' ^"«^r"«t, and purify the soul, 
 ,, ;' ^^"^' ''^''''^ ^b««I^'e, and still to guide, 
 To raise men's thoughts while you abate their.pride • 
 Supreme o'er all, o'er every power below, ' ' 
 , i" „'^' ^' y'"" *h« human mind should bow. 
 ^y Him to you was holy sanction given 
 
 "To rule our race as delegate of Heaven. 
 
 To spread the faith, with hope of better times, 
 ,, :^«d Christian worship to remotest climes. 
 
 ^ou th' apostle, guardian of mankind, 
 1' ^ P'^^^P* °^^^^««ce in the world should find • 
 , ^^J''' ''' ^^"o' Perchance, for me to search 
 
 ihe sacred records of our holy Church ; 
 
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 " But these -would show, our faltering minds would teach 
 
 " How wise each end which we have sought to reach. 
 
 " Our duty's plain, is clear to every mind, 
 
 " Nations to sway both singly and combined. 
 
 " Your watchful eye should Christian lands survey, 
 
 " Detecting perils still upon their way : 
 
 " Recalling those your favor may deserve, 
 
 " And those who fail your mandates to observe. 
 
 " Before I enter on this brief review, 
 " In grief I'd speak some words, alas ! too true. 
 " Still great reforms our holy Church requires, 
 " And much distrust the priesthood now inspires. 
 " In every land disorder, crime prevails, 
 " And deeds of wrath, your Holiness bewails, 
 " While schism spreads her foul and fetid wings, 
 " And disrepute upon rehgion brings ; 
 " Appalling vices 'mong the Clergy reign, 
 " And these abuses Prelates, too, sustain. 
 " It is a scandal to our holy creed 
 " To see the lives our priests and bishops lead. 
 " To stem the evils which profusely flow, 
 " Or pluck the weeds which thus luxuriant grow : 
 " To you this power intact, and all supreme, 
 " Must strengthened be and purified I deem ; 
 " No diminution of this power should be, 
 " Nor should corruption pass from censure free. 
 " Christ's pure religion to your trust assigned, 
 " All free must be from stain of every kind, 
 " Unless proud monarchs, nations you control, 
 " How can you cure this leprosy of soul ? 
 
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 " The Greeks have gone, nor can they more molest 
 " Our holy Church, Avhich doth eternal rest. 
 " Constantinople can no longer sway 
 " Religious thought, or sacred truths betray ; 
 " A mightier power, in the West enthroned, 
 " Hath the Apostate and his creed disowned. 
 *' Thro' Southern Italy we now may trace 
 " The steady progress of the Norman race ; 
 " Sicily they rule, and that immortal land 
 " To glory springs beneath their sway, command. 
 " Their foes subdued, their conquering arms prevail ; 
 " To them we look and their allegiance hail. 
 " These children of the Church have fealty sworn, 
 "And in her cause victorious arms have borne. 
 " My feeble words cannot in truth convey 
 " The wisdom, va!. ur which their acts display. 
 " In proper time to these I shall advert, 
 " But pause not here their merits to assert. 
 
 " The Lombards sink beneath your sover. ign sway 
 " And their resistance soon must pass away ; 
 " Milan must yield, and in the course of time 
 " Will cease to be a scene of war and crime ; 
 " The fierce dissensions which subvert, destroy 
 " < "ur sacred union will be turned to joy : 
 « A..d with the blessing of God's word and grace, 
 " Your holy sceptre will the sword replace. 
 " No rude revolt Spain, Africa will make, 
 " And still from you the law supreme must take. 
 " Then further north proud states our thoughts must claim, 
 " Nations renown'd and great in warlike fame. 
 
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 " Grave, wild disorders in those kingdoms reign, 
 " And barbarous relics of rude times remain. 
 " The German monarchs rule that famous land, 
 " But 'gainst the Church oft raise rebellious hand. 
 " With that great power, you painfully contend, 
 " And to the Altar still these feuds extend. 
 " These Princes speak in far too bold a tone, 
 " And claim too loudly to control your throne : 
 " By bishops, priests, vast sums are freely paid 
 " All there is venal and high trusts betrayed. 
 " This foul abuse in France we know prevails, 
 " And stern remonstrance nothing yet avails. 
 " There the lost monarch is immersed in vice, 
 " And every license is secured by price. 
 " Your sacred rule is much required there, 
 " That distant Church dpraaniis your watchful care. 
 " On Northern shores, fierce nations more remote, 
 
 Into your fold reluctantly are brought. 
 " Their haughty rulers need more stem control, 
 " E'er they can Jeam the interests of the soul. 
 
 " Comes England next, b nation fierce and rude, 
 " Nor to your rule completely yet subdued. 
 " Your high decrees that island should obey, 
 " And place its crown beneath your righteous sway. 
 " That distant land should feel your sovereign power, 
 " Or 'twill revolt at some too near an nour. 
 " Their stubborn minds will fierce resistance make, 
 " Nor fail, perchance, some other creed to take : 
 " Britons, Saxons, and the Danes unite. 
 In bold defiance of your sacred right. 
 
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 " From Canterbury, Robert was expelled, 
 
 " And haughty Stigand in his place installed : 
 
 '^' When they have learned and know that they arc free, 
 
 '^ -They will denounce, defy the Holy See ; 
 
 '^' A bad example in these troubled times, 
 
 " And one inviting to great public crimes. 
 
 " The Norman Princes, great in martial fame, 
 " Our earnest care and high approval claim ; 
 " Of Christian nations, which your rule admit, 
 " For warlike deeds the Normans seem most fit. 
 " In France and Italy their rising power 
 " Defers to you their Sovereign at this hour ; 
 " To you they still their veteran armies lend 
 1^' To aid the right, and your high throne defend. 
 " Thus, it appears, supremely o'er the whole, 
 All earthly kingdoms your's is to control ; 
 The Church to purify and bless mankind, 
 Religioii, law, and order stand combined. 
 These rights you must maintain, these truths enforce, 
 '' By holy means and by sagacious course. 
 " At length I come to Harold's urgent case, 
 And his misdeeds would briefly here retrace 
 " Before your throne, now cited to appear, 
 " His famous name from obloquy to clear, 
 " He hath refused, your summons hath defied ; 
 " So he and England your commands deride. 
 To you Duke William his appeal hath made, 
 " And to your throne submission full displayed. 
 " Thus he implores grave sanction at your hand, 
 " Ere he makes war upon a Christian land. 
 
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 This loyal homage from so great a Prince, 
 Doth highest reverence for your rule evince ; 
 " This deep devotion surely will increase 
 " Thro' -warlike perils as in times of peace, 
 " Success will follow where lie leads his hosts, 
 " And guard his standards on the English coasts ; 
 " Sustained with prayers, with blessings on his head, 
 " Ilis sovereign sway o'er England soon will spread ; 
 " lIc'U hold his conquest as the gift of Rome 
 " And more devoted to your throne become. 
 " Take a wise course, judge what his rights should claim, 
 " And thus enlist that Prince of mighty fame. 
 " The Saxons, Danes, your strong control require, 
 " Ere with God's grace you can their souls inspire ; 
 " This to effect, their pride should be subdued 
 " By arms, by men religious but less rude. 
 " 'Tis by such means and by such means alone, 
 " That land will e'er be subject to your Crown. 
 " Far in the van, the armies of the Lord 
 " Your sway will bear with his eternal word. 
 
 " 'Tis also said, and so we must believe, 
 " That pious Edward, whom we justly grieve, 
 " Duke William named successor to his throne, 
 " Tho' his last words were publicly unkno^vn. 
 " The Saxon Prince, tho' this decree he knew, 
 " Around his standards fierce retainers drew ; 
 " And, by intrigue, despite the Norman's claim, 
 " Usurped the throne to his eternal shame ; 
 " And to succeed in his accursed cause 
 " Hath broken, spurned divine and human laws. 
 
 
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 *at were not well, tho' men in peace should live, 
 " To such misdeeds your sanction you should give ; 
 ^'1 Then Harold's crimes doth punishment demand, ' 
 " And stern rebuke from your most sacred hand. 
 " An oath was sworn on relics, as we know 
 " By him long since a violated vow. 
 " Had absolution been by him required, 
 " He might, perchance, have had the wish desired ; 
 " Sut he refusing you our chief to greet, 
 " Proud, contumacious, his reward should meet. 
 " When summoned here, thus guilty, to explain, 
 " Your order calls the Saxon Prince in vain ; 
 " This bold defiance of God's sacred law, 
 " Grave disrespect upon the church may draw ; 
 " If you still seek to sway that distant land, 
 " Pass not those deeds without a reprimand. 
 " These acts of Harold in your sovereign court, 
 " Full condemnation must from all extort ; 
 " Since to your judgment this appeal is made, 
 " Your high decree, your power should be obeyed. 
 " Should you permit this sacrilege to pass 
 " Unpunished now, then say adieu, alas ! 
 " To your just influence o'er flagitious times, 
 " Mon's hearts to rule, or to abate their crimes. 
 " These are the reasons why I now advise 
 Your sacred blessing on this enterprise ; 
 '' To bless the standard of the Norman Duke 
 " And Harold humble by some dread rebuke. 
 " By sacred Bull your holy wrath suspend 
 ^' O'er the usurper and the Saxon land. 
 
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 " If disobedience he doth still maintain, 
 " Nor seek forgiveness from your hand to gain,. 
 *' And William's claim in arms he doth oppose, 
 " Be he accursed, then punished by his foes ; 
 " And so beneath the Norman's mighty sway 
 " That land will yet behold a brighter day." 
 
 Silence ensued : then some the speaker praised, 
 While with keen eye some on the Pontiff gazed. 
 At length Bernardo the deep silence broke. 
 And thus with mild but earnest accents spoke : 
 
 " Most reverend Lord, great chief of Christian lands, 
 " Advice you seek and counsel at our hands ; 
 " Mine I will give despite the lofty tone 
 " Which marks the words of Hildebrand alone ; 
 " Tho' I admire much he so well hath said, 
 " But more the skill in his discourse displayed, 
 " Altho' high merit he for this may claim, 
 " Some views of his I openly must blame. 
 " Whatever Harold's faults, his crimes may be, 
 " Tho' he refuse to offer here his plea, 
 " Some course more fitting surely may be found, 
 " Than that which now Duke WiUiam's friends propound. 
 " To me it seems a wild, unholy scheme, 
 " And «ne deserving our decisive blame, 
 " Of Christian nations to arouse the wrath, 
 " To point a victim in a conqueror's path ; 
 " To urge the Norman to the English coasts, 
 " And cheer the march of the destroyer's hosts ;, 
 " To preach crusades against a Christian land, 
 " And sanction slaughter by so great command. 
 
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 " England is true, yes true to onr great faith 
 'I ind long hath lived in light of sacred truth, 
 " And, being such, I stand exempt from blame, 
 " Altho' her King your pardon still must claim. 
 " Harold may suffer for such gi-eat misdeed, 
 " But for his acts let not the nation bleed ; 
 I' On him you should some stern reproof pronounce, 
 "And, if 'tis just, a punishment denounce ; 
 " But be it not proclaimed by voice of man 
 " That you approve this dark and cruel plan." 
 Him many followed, and declared with force 
 Against great Hildebrand's unholy course. 
 In that council, that solemn, high conclave, 
 Harsh words broke forth in censure deep and grave. 
 Of Hildebrand some spoke with cold disdain; 
 Some gave expression to a sense of pain, 
 That one so learned, sincere and ?o devout. 
 Should urge a crusade with such horror fraught. 
 To spread obedience to God's holy word, 
 Such bloody projects ne'er before were heard ; 
 And one there was, still bolder than the rest. 
 Who indignation loudly there expressed: 
 Proclaimed such doctrine was a foul disgrace 
 To all who urged it in that holy place. 
 He moum'd that high among them proudly stood 
 A man who preached the waste of Christian blood. 
 To such invectives he no answer made, 
 Nor e'en emotion at these words betrayed ; 
 Tho' of that council many uttered blame. 
 Yet all knew well the influence of his name. 
 
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 The Sovereign Prince, in look and word of state, 
 Soon after closed that high and long debate ; 
 And all await, with deep and anxious care, 
 The solemn judgment which next morn would bear : 
 Immortal scene, replete with future fate, 
 Whence great events thro' coming time would date. 
 After a night of brief and wan repose. 
 The Holy Father from his couch arose. 
 To the great council later he repaired. 
 Where holy men, who had his counsel shared, 
 Assembled were the sacred throne around. 
 To hear the Pontiff his decree propound, 
 A sacred stillness reigned in that vast hall, 
 And expectation filled the hearts of all. 
 
 In the high thoughts by Hildebrand announced. 
 His judgment then was solemnly pronounced : 
 That Harold now had forfeited all claim 
 To England's throne, and to the Christian name. 
 King Edward's will, the Saxon's oroken vow, 
 Were both commented and adjudged on now. 
 That he perm'ssion would to William send 
 To conquer England and her throne ascend ; 
 A sacred banner, blest with holy prayer, 
 To William's envoy was entrusted there ; 
 Likewise a ring, within which was enclosed 
 A relic taken whence it long reposed, 
 Of that Apostle who had raised that power, 
 To sway, to triumph till time's latest hour. 
 Should he not yield, it further was announced. 
 Stern excommunication was to be pronounced. 
 
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 To that effect a sacred Bull was given 
 
 Which o'er his head held forth the wrath of Heaven. 
 
 To William's envoys, with this sanction grave, 
 These sacred emblems of the Pope they gave ; 
 Few days elapsed, ero Rouen they regained. 
 Elate with all their mission had attained ; 
 The Norman Prince absorbed in anxious thought 
 O'er all the schemes his hate, his dreams had wrought, 
 His envoys welcomed with exulting soul 
 And words of hope he sought not to control ; 
 He kissed those emblems of a feudal right, 
 O'er iiiture conquests won by warlike might. 
 Approved by God and by religion blest, 
 His vast ambition all its fire possest. 
 This final judgment of the Pope went forth 
 Tc all the known, the Christian lands of earth. 
 Sentence of wrath which shook the western world, 
 And soon the banner of the church unfurled, 
 O'er warlike chivalry of many a land. 
 And brought stern warriors 'neath that dread command ; 
 To wreak deep woes of desolating years 
 On generations bowed with chains and tears.