Part 18 (1/2)
And why stands Scotland idly now, Dark Flodden! on thy airy brow, Since England gains the pa.s.s the while, 600 And struggles through the deep defile?
What checks the fiery soul of James?
Why sits that champion of the dames Inactive on his steed, And sees, between him and his land, 605 Between him and Tweed's southern strand, His host Lord Surrey lead?
What 'vails the vain knight-errant's brand?-- O, Douglas, for thy leading wand!
Fierce Randolph, for thy speed! 610 O for one hour of Wallace wight, Or well-skill'd Bruce, to rule the fight, And cry--'Saint Andrew and our right!'
Another sight had seen that morn, From Fate's dark book a leaf been torn, 615 And Flodden had been Bannockbourne!-- The precious hour has pa.s.s'd in vain, And England's host has gain'd the plain; Wheeling their march, and circling still, Around the base of Flodden hill. 620
XXI.
Ere yet the bands met Marmion's eye, Fitz-Eustace shouted loud and high, 'Hark! hark! my lord, an English drum!
And see ascending squadrons come Between Tweed's river and the hill, 625 Foot, horse, and cannon:--hap what hap, My basnet to a prentice cap, Lord Surrey's o'er the Till!-- Yet more! yet more!--how far array'd They file from out the hawthorn shade, 630 And sweep so gallant by!
With all their banners bravely spread, And all their armour flas.h.i.+ng high, Saint George might waken from the dead, To see fair England's standards fly.'-- 635 'Stint in thy prate,' quoth Blount, 'thou'dst best, And listen to our lord's behest.'-- With kindling brow Lord Marmion said,-- 'This instant be our band array'd; The river must be quickly cross'd, 640 That we may join Lord Surrey's host.
If fight King James,--as well I trust, That fight he will, and fight he must,-- The Lady Clare behind our lines Shall tarry, while the battle joins.' 645
XXII.
Himself he swift on horseback threw, Scarce to the Abbot bade adieu; Far less would listen to his prayer, To leave behind the helpless Clare.
Down to the Tweed his band he drew, 650 And mutter'd as the flood they view, 'The pheasant in the falcon's claw, He scarce will yield to please a daw: Lord Angus may the Abbot awe, So Clare shall bide with me.' 655 Then on that dangerous ford, and deep, Where to the Tweed Leat's eddies creep, He ventured desperately: And not a moment will he bide, Till squire, or groom, before him ride; 660 Headmost of all he stems the tide, And stems it gallantly.
Eustace held Clare upon her horse, Old Hubert led her rein, Stoutly they braved the current's course, 665 And, though far downward driven per force, The southern bank they gain; Behind them, straggling, came to sh.o.r.e, As best they might, the train: Each o'er his head his yew-bow bore, 670 A caution not in vain; Deep need that day that every string, By wet unharm'd, should sharply ring.
A moment then Lord Marmion staid, And breathed his steed, his men array'd, 675 Then forward moved his band, Until, Lord Surrey's rear-guard won, He halted by a Cross of Stone, That, on a hillock standing lone, Did all the field command. 680
XXIII.
Hence might they see the full array Of either host, for deadly fray; Their marshall'd lines stretch'd east and west, And fronted north and south, And distant salutation pa.s.s'd 685 From the loud cannon mouth; Not in the close successive rattle, That breathes the voice of modern battle, But slow and far between.-- The hillock gain'd, Lord Marmion staid: 690 'Here, by this Cross,' he gently said, 'You well may view the scene.
Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare: O! think of Marmion in thy prayer!-- Thou wilt not?--well, no less my care 695 Shall, watchful, for thy weal prepare.-- You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard, With ten pick'd archers of my train; With England if the day go hard, To Berwick speed amain.-- 700 But if we conquer, cruel maid, My spoils shall at your feet be laid, When here we meet again.'
He waited not for answer there, And would not mark the maid's despair, 705 Nor heed the discontented look From either squire; but spurr'd amain, And, das.h.i.+ng through the battle-plain, His way to Surrey took.
XXIV.
'--The good Lord Marmion, by my life! 710 Welcome to danger's hour!-- Short greeting serves in time of strife :- Thus have I ranged my power: Myself will rule this central host, Stout Stanley fronts their right, 715 My sons command the vaward post, With Brian Tunstall, stainless knight; Lord Dacre, with his hors.e.m.e.n light, Shall be in rear-ward of the fight, And succour those that need it most. 720 Now, gallant Marmion, well I know, Would gladly to the vanguard go; Edmund, the Admiral, Tunstall there, With thee their charge will blithely share; There fight thine own retainers too, 725 Beneath De Burg, thy steward true.'-- 'Thanks, n.o.ble Surrey!' Marmion said, Nor farther greeting there he paid; But, parting like a thunderbolt, First in the vanguard made a halt, 730 Where such a shout there rose Of 'Marmion! Marmion!' that the cry, Up Flodden mountain shrilling high, Startled the Scottish foes.
XXV.
Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested still 735 With Lady Clare upon the hill; On which, (for far the day was spent,) The western sunbeams now were bent.
The cry they heard, its meaning knew, Could plain their distant comrades view: 740 Sadly to Blount did Eustace say, 'Unworthy office here to stay!
No hope of gilded spurs to-day.-- But see! look up--on Flodden bent The Scottish foe has fired his tent.' 745 And sudden, as he spoke, From the sharp ridges of the hill, All downward to the banks of Till, Was wreathed in sable smoke.
Volumed and fast, and rolling far, 750 The cloud enveloped Scotland's war, As down the hill they broke; Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, Announced their march; their tread alone, At times one warning trumpet blown, 755 At times a stifled hum, Told England, from his mountain-throne King James did rus.h.i.+ng come.-- Scarce could they hear, or see their foes, Until at weapon-point they close.-- 760 They close, in clouds of smoke and dust, With sword-sway, and with lance's thrust; And such a yell was there, Of sudden and portentous birth, As if men fought upon the earth, 765 And fiends in upper air; Oh, life and death were in the shout, Recoil and rally, charge and rout, And triumph and despair.
Long look'd the anxious squires; their eye 770 Could in the darkness nought descry.
XXVI.
At length the freshening western blast Aside the shroud of battle cast; And, first, the ridge of mingled spears Above the brightening cloud appears; 775 And in the smoke the pennons flew, As in the storm the white sea-mew.
Then mark'd they, das.h.i.+ng broad and far, The broken billows of the war, And plumed crests of chieftains brave, 780 Floating like foam upon the wave; But nought distinct they see: Wide raged the battle on the plain; Spears shook, and falchions flash'd amain; Fell England's arrow-flight like rain; 785 Crests rose, and stoop'd, and rose again, Wild and disorderly.
Amid the scene of tumult, high They saw Lord Marmion's falcon fly: And stainless Tunstall's banner white, 790 And Edmund Howard's lion bright, Still bear them bravely in the fight; Although against them come, Of gallant Gordons many a one, And many a stubborn Badenoch-man, 795 And many a rugged Border clan, With Huntly, and with Home.
XXVII.
Far on the left, unseen the while, Stanley broke Lennox and Argyle; Though there the western mountaineer 800 Rush'd with bare bosom on the spear, And flung the feeble targe aside, And with both hands the broadsword plied.