ALONG the bridge Lord Marmion rode,
Proudly his red roan charger trode,
His helm hung at the saddle bow;
Well by his visage you might know
He was a stalwart knight, and keen.
And had in many a battle been;
The scar on his brown cheek reveal'd
A token true of Bosworth field;
His eyebrow dark and eye of fire
Show'd spirit proud, and prompt to ire;
Yet lines of thought upon his cheek
Did deep design and counsel speak.
His forehead, by his casque worn bare,
His thick moustache, and curly hair,
Coal-black and grizzled here and there,
But more through toil than age-
His square-turn'd joints, and strength of limb,
Show'd him no carpet knight so trim,
But in close fight a champion grim,
In camps a leader sage.
Well was he arm'd from head to heel
In mail and plate of Milan steel,
But his strong helm of mighty cost,
Was all with burnish'd gold emboss'd.
Amid the plumage of the crest
A falcon hover'd on her nest,
With wings outspread, and forward breast:
E'en such a falcon, on his shield,
Soar'd sable in an azure field:
The golden legend bore aright,
Who checks at me, to death is dight.
1 This is a description of an English knight. The description is
quite correct, though Marmion is an imaginary character.
Blue was the charger's broider'd rein,
Blue ribbons deck'd his arching mane;
The knightly housing's ample fold
Was velvet blue, and trapp'd with gold.
Behind him rode two gallant squires,
Of noble name and knightly sires :
They burn'd the gilded spurs to claim;
For well could each a war horse tame,
Could draw the bow, the sword could sway,
And lightly bear the ring away:
Nor less with courteous precepts stored,
Could dance in hall and carve at board,
And frame love ditties passing rare,
And sing them to a lady fair.
Four men-at-arms came at their backs,
With halbert, bill, and battle-axe:
They bore Lord Marmion's lance so strong,
And led his sumpter-mules along,
And ambling palfrey, when at need
Him listed ease his battle steed.
The last and trustiest of the four
On high his forky pennon bore;
Like swallow's tail in shape and hue,
Flutter'd the streamer glossy blue.
Where, blazon'd sable as before,
The towering falcon seem'd to soar.
Last twenty yeomen, two and two,
In hosen black and jerkin blue,
With falcons broider'd on each breast,
Attended on their lord's behest;
Each chosen for an archer good,
Knew hunting craft by lake or wood;
Each one a six-foot bow could bend,
And far a cloth yard shaft could send;
Each held a boar-spear tough and strong,
And at their belts their quivers rung.
Their dusty palfreys and array
Show'd they had march'd a weary way.
BATTLE OF FLODDEN.1
NEXT morn the baron climb'd the tower,
To view afar the Scottish power,
Encamp'd on Flodden edge:2
The white pavilions made a show
Like remnants of the winter snow,
Along the dusky ridge.
Long Marmion look'd :—at length his eye
Unusual movement might descry
Amid the shifting lines:
The Scottish host drawn out appears,
For, flashing on the hedge of spears,
The eastern sunbeam shines.
Their front now deepening, now extending;
Their flank inclining, wheeling, bending,
Now drawing back, and now descending,
The skilful Marmion well could know
They watch'd the motions of some foe,
Who traversed on the plain below.
Even so it was :-From Flodden ridge
The Scots beheld the English host
Leave Barmore-wood, their evening post,
And heedful watch'd them as they cross'd
The Till3 by Twisel Bridge.
High sight it is, and haughty, while
They dive into the deep defile;
Beneath the cavern'd cliff they fall,
Beneath the castle's airy wall.
By rock, by oak, by hawthorn tree,
Troop after troop are disappearing;
Troop after troop their banners rearing,
Upon the eastern bank you see,
1 Fought in the year 1513, between the Scotch under James IV. of Scotland, and the English under the Earl of Surrey. The incidents of the battle related are true, except with reference to Marmion's part in the battle.
2 A low hill in Northumberland, a spur of the Cheviot Hills.
3 A deep slow river flowing between Barmore Wood and Flodden Hill.
Still pouring down the rocky den,
Where flows the sullen Till,
And, rising from the dim wood glen,
Standards on standards, men on men,
In slow succession still,
And sweeping o'er the Gothic arch,
And pressing on in ceaseless march,
To gain the opposing hill.
That morn to many a trumpet clang,
Twisel! thy rocks' deep echo rang;
And many a chief of birth and rank,
Saint Helen! at thy fountain drank.
Thy hawthorn glade, which now we see
In spring tide bloom so lavishly,
Had then from many an axe its doom
To give the marching columns room.
And why stands Scotland idly now,'
Dark Flodden! on thy airy brow?
Since England gains the pass the while,
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,
Between him and Tweed's southern strand,
His host Lord Surrey lead?
What 'vails the vain knight-errant's brand?—
O Douglas !2 for thy leading wand!
Fierce Randolph3 for thy speed!
O for one hour of Wallace' wight,
1 This, with the following verses, refers to the mistake made by James, who lost his advantage by allowing the English to cross the Till unopposed, and thus to place themselves between him and "his land."
2 Lord James Douglas, a famous Scotch leader who fought with Robert Bruce against the English.
3 Sir Thomas Randolph, a nephew of Bruce.
4 William Wallace, one of the heroes of Scotch history-who fought for the freedom of Scotland against Edward I.
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,
And Flodden had been Bannockbourne.3-
The precious hour has pass'd in vain,
And England's host has gain'd the plain,
Wheeling their march and circling still,
Around the base of Flodden hill.
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,
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,
With all their banners bravely spread,
And all their armour flashing high,
Saint George' might waken from the dead
To see fair England's standards fly."—
"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,
That we may join Lord Surrey's host.
If fight king James, as well I trust
That fight he will and fight he must.
1 Robert Bruce, King of Scotland, who fought for the indepen
dence of Scotland against Edward I. and Edward II.
2 A war-cry (St. Andrew was the patron saint of Scotland).
3 A battle fought between Edward II. and the Scotch, in 1314,
when the English were defeated.
4 Fitz-Eustace and Blount were Marmion's squires.
5 The patron saint of England.
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