The Retired Lieutenant, and the Battle of Loncarty. Poems

Preface

. This Poem had its origin in a desire to illustrate in verse a famous achievement that took place at the Battle of Loncarty, in Scotland, which happened about the end of the tenth century, in the reign of Kenneth III. ; in which a peasant, named Hay, and his two Sons, who chanced to be ploughing in a field near the place of battle, stayed the flight of the Scottish army, when it was on the point of being destroyed, and thereby saved their Country from subjection to the Danish yoke. The incident I allude to is, without doubt, one of the most romantic in the VI

PREFACE.

. history of the world: so much so, indeed, that many, without duly considering the nature of ancient warfare amongst semi barbarous nations, class it amongst old fables, and give no credit to it. But so many old historians have recorded it as fact, and so clearly are the memorials of it to be traced in the ancient traditions, and even monu ments, of the quarter in which it happened, that, though later compilers of history, with the natural desire of showing superior saga city, either overlook the story, or treat it as fabulous, to me it seems to betray a defec tive knowledge of antiquity to entertain a doubt of it. In my boyish days in Scotland I had heard several quaint legends on this event; but, like other legends, they only excited a momentary gleam of wonder, and passed away without impressing the mind suffi ciently to secure their remembrance. At a

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. VII more advanced period of life, however, when I chanced on the very clear account given of it in Buchanan's history, nationality took up the subject, and I saw no reason why this instance of heroic patriotism in ancient Scotland should not have a place in the rolls of fame, as well as the defence of the Pass of Thermopylæ by the Greeks, or that of the bridge at Rome by Horatius Codes ; which, considering the neglect into which the history it is recorded in has fallen, I saw no way of effecting without a touch of the pencil of poetry. I accordingly commenced the work, in tending to confine my essay to the landing, and the cruelty exercised by the Danes in that inroad, the subsequent Battle at Loncarty, the victory gained by the in trepidity of the Hays, and the singular manner in which, according to tradition, they were rewarded for their valour. But,

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. on reflecting that poetry is never generally interesting, unless it enter into the natural connexions and passions of mankind, I ex tended my plan, making the Poem to open some four years previous to the landing of the Danes, and founding the epic depart ment of it on some of the events of that eventful period. After I had thus completed the piece, without having the least surmise that any person had ever thought of using the subject in poetry before me, to my no small surprise, I found I had been anticipated in the story of the Hays, and that, too, by no less a person than Shakespeare, who makes use of it in his Battle of the Britons and Romans in the fifth act of Cymbeline ; and further discovered that Milton, at some period of his life, had been engaged with the story. The following is Musgrave's note on the Battle of the Britons and Romans in Cym-

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. IX beline, as it appears in Bell's edition of Shakespeare, where I made the above dis covery. " The stopping of the army by three persons, is an allusion to the story of the Hays, as related by Hollinshed in his ' History of Scotland,' " p. 155. "' There was neere to the place of battelle a long lane fenced on the sides with ditches and walles made of turfe, through which the Scots which fled were beaten down by the enemies in heapes. Here Haie, with his Sons, supposing they might best staie the flight, placed themselves overthwart the lane, beat them back whom they met fleeing, and spared neither friend nor so, but down they went, all such as came within their reach ; where with divers hardie personages cried out unto their fellows to return backe unto the bat telle,' " &c. " It appears from Peck's ' New Memoirs,' X

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. &c. article 88, that Milton intended to have written a play on this subject." This much, in reference to the historical character of the following Poem, I have thought it necessary here to state. On its poetical character it is not for me to make any observations. I shall only say, in miti gation of whatever censure it may be thought fit to pass on its faults, that it is far from being on this Poem alone I now advance a claim to public attention ; for I have works of many kinds to produce, if, after the earnest but ineffectual efforts of more than twenty years, persevered in through the extremest discouragement, it should at length be my fortune to get them fairly placed before the bar of public opinion. THE BATTLE OF LONCARTY: a $o?m. INDUCTION. Seek ye that spot on Albion's isle Where foreign sword or foreign guile Could never yet prevail ?

Where lived the race that, unsubdued, Invasion's ruthless bands withstood, And ne'er, till spent in civil feud, Before the alien fell ? Seek ye that spot to shed a tear Upon the Patriot's grave ? Warms it your heart the song to hear, That celebrates the brave ? INDUCTION. Love ye, when patriot pride inspires Your bosoms, from the immortal fires Of the wild valour of your sires The burning brand to steal ? Look back to Scotland in her day, And trace the banks of famous Tay : There on a time eventful lay The action of my tale. They were achievements, when they passed, That struck a wondering age aghast ; N And are, though ages since have rolled, Still proudly to the stranger told, Who seeks the scene where yet, between The woods that skirt Kinnoul, are seen Remains of names which seem to say No time shall waste their fame away, Till from oblivion the lay Their patriot virtues shield ; From story trite, and legend tame, Till Poesy snatch th' immortal theme ; And give the brave the fame of song In strains that to their worth belong, INDUCTION.

And deathless glory yield To the Three Shields, in peril's day Who stoutly stood their Country's stay In Loncarty's dread field. Such is, in lack of prouder name To gild the song, the Muse's theme. Bard of the hills ! whose strains of fire Have rapt to heaven the Celtic lyre, Pass, in your mists, her harp along, And raise her strains and swell her song, To all her subjects' claim ! BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I

Canto I

Now blushing o'er the youthful year Rose morn ; and hollow on the ear The din of trampling steeds and men Roll'd over Methven's wintry plain. The Thane had rais'd his clan's array The arts of battle to portray, To try his son in war's alarms, And train him to the shock of arms ; For long renown'd the line had been Of great Rodardus, Methven's Thane. His large and populous domains Embrac'd the thousand straths and glens Which to the sun their glades display Between the floods of Earn and Tay ; An hundred glens his tartans wore, An hundred chiefs his banners bore, ne'er was stay'd in battle's hour The great Abthane * of Methven's power. Such Methven : and his pleasure lay, When higher duty's claims gave way, In martial feats to prove his trains : And oft the neighbouring youthful thanes, In arms and warlike ardour gay, Assembled in the mimic fray.

Oft, too, by sire or brother's side, The smiling fair adorn'd the field, And secretly the weapons ply'd That scorn the youthful wrarrior's shield ; And many a chieftain young and gay, And gallant knight, and lady fair, The splendid Tournament's display To aid, or witness, now were there ; While others still advanc'd in view, And still the vast assemblage grew. To speak of all who grac'd the plain, Or only of each noble train * Thane of Thanes. b BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I To give the blazonry and name, Would load in vain the rising theme : But one amongst th' assembling throng Of noble knights and warriors young, Alone and pensive on his way, A moment claims the passing lay. He, clad a hunter, tall and strong, And shunning the promiscuous throng, With solemn steps drew on : His outward robe of roan-deer hide A baldric richly studded tied, A hunting spear hung at his side : And thus the strange unknown Of late had oft been seen to rove Near Methven's towers through wood and grove, Still seeming loath remark to move, A wandering hunter lone.

But now an armed attendant, hoar With age, behind him bending bore The harnessing and panoply That knighthood only may display ; And led a steed which seem'd to bear His hoofs as if he trod on air. thus unknown in rank or name, The tournament to view He pass'd, and, as appeared his aim, No observation drew. But now the chiefs their pennons spread, The war-pipes pealed, the trumpets bray'd, In adverse columns on the plains Advanc'd the marshall'd warrior trains, Shouts shook the ground, and through the sky In clouds the blunted missiles fly, The thick battalions furious close, And all the seeming battle rose ; While bright at every column's head Some youthful chief his skill display'd, The onset led, or form'd to meet The charge, or order'd the retreat ; Or in encounters shield to shield, The single combats splendid arts revealed.

Thus was the field of war portray'd By many a beauteous eye survey'd. 1! Canto I 8 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. But brightest of the sparkling train Of noble dames who grac'd the plain Was Methven's daughter, of all eyes Her beauty made submissive prize ; For Inva, grown from childhood hight, Soft as a flower, and fair as light, Had now attain'd the charms that grace The virgin's perfect years, And all to her in loveliness The time had no compeers. But thus in youthful charms array'd, Whilst she the marshall'd field survey'd, No care her gentle bosom mov'd, But for her sire, and brother lov'd. Her noble brother now had seen The woods a twentieth summer green, And promis'd soon in arms to grace The ancient honours of his race ; Yet, though he well already knew To poise the spear, and bend the yew, His sire, in fond paternal care, Still sought from war his youth to spare.

Canto I. 9 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. But brave Gilwarden's ardent soul Now spurn'd at boyhood's tame control, And glow'd in fields of arms to claim The noble strife that leads to fame. And heated now by war's display, Through all the thronging field's array The fiercest he to battle brought, And honour's dangerous combat sought With many who in war were tried, And had their country's foes defied ; But all he thus to battle drew Soon from his bold encounter flew. Foil'd ever thus, at length, in thought Depress'd, his noble sire he sought ; And, of his youthful powers restrain'd, Calmly determin'd, thus complain'd. Sire ! must I thus for ever play Inglorious in the mock array Of war ? conduct th' embattl'd train To sport, and shine in arms in vain ? I have attain'd to manhood's pride, And am in danger's field untried ; Canto I 10 BATTLE OF LONCARTY.

Give me to day to prove my claim To my illustrious line and name, Give me a knight with whom to wield The spear for fame, or leave to quit the field. With secret pride great Methven eyed His rousing mind ; but thus replied : How ! son, will none of all my train, Unask'd, relieve your warlike vein ? None prove, of choice ! your ardent steel ? That you so bold to me appeal : But as you thus invoke mine ear, Your valour shall have proof, I swear ! Go, heralds, with the sound of shield And trumpets through the marshall'd field, And, on my warranty and name, Aloud that all may hear, proclaim That Lord Gilwarden, to the fight By knighthood's laws controll'd, Dares forth the proudest, bravest Knight That this gay field may hold. That on degree of rank or name None barr'd the lists shall be, Save whom the laws of arms disclaim ; And any knight is free With him, to mortal issue, here To try the mast'ry of the spear.

He said : the trumpet's echoing clang Through all the distance instant rang ; And straight, like pausing thunder, o'er The field was hush'd the battle's roar. The warlike lines, array'd in haste, The heralds with the challenge trac'd ; The youthful champion rode in sight, Preparing proudly for the fight ; And wonder how th' event would close, And panting expectation rose. But beauteous Inva's softer breast Was all by anxious cares possess'd, Her brother's youth, and arm untried She fear'd, and for his safety sigh'd ; For known 'twas to the timid fair That warriors fierce and proud were there. But once the challenge through the vast And silent field unanswered passed : The trumpet's deep'ning sound again Travers'd the dark embattled plain ; But save its blasts from hill to hill Re-echoed, all as yet was still ; No warrior mov'd, no plume or spear Seem'd from the sable lines to peer ; And thrice, at length, the herald train Proclaim'd the challenge, but in vain, No knight stood forth, though throngs were there, To cope in arms with Methven's heir.

Thus seem'd the sports, which gaily rose, To flag and draw towards a close : Yet scarcely this observance drew, When all were wak'd to wonder new ; For quickly, southward, shouts from far Were heard, and like a shooting star, Towards Rodardus and his train, A knight rode glittering through the plain, Mail'd cap-a-pie, in harness bright, And, by his arms, an English knight ; Canto I. 13 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. For royal Edgar's argent cross Shone on his azure shield, And on his lofty helmet's boss The dragon stood revealed ; The stranger he, the hunter lone, Who join'd the field to all unknown. An English knight, alone, to view Amongst them, thus array'd In arms, through all the clans a new And strange sensation spread. But he, unmov'd, the warlike band Approach'd with homage fair, And in the tongue of Saxon land Thus spoke with dauntless air.

Brave knights of Scotland, glory's charms Have drawn me to this land of arms ; I come with hope to vantage here My studies of the sword and spear. Of late King Edgar's court I left, My knighthood is that monarch's gift, As my armorial signs proclaim, Sir Edric, of the Spur, my name : Canto I 14 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. And faithful to my high degree In arms, I cannot passive see Yon champion brave this marshall'd plain, And ask the tilt of arms in vain. If then the Scottish knights decline His battle, be that honour mine ; For it may not be said in knighthood's ear That I the threat of arms unanswer'd hear. He spoke : and thus in accents bold While he the clans address'd, In throngs him nearer to behold Both chiefs and ladies pressed. And though his helm, for battle closed, The eye which sought his face opposed, And but to few his speech was known ; His graceful form and mien High rev'rence for his presence won From all the thronging scene.

But Inva, whose affections strong Upon her youthful brother hung, To join the general gaze declined, For dark present'ments filled her mind ; And, from the stranger coldly turn'd, She secretly his presence mourn'd. Amongst the clans there also rose Resolves the combat to oppose : Shall Lord Gilwarden pledge his fame, Cried some, at any stranger's claim ? To such an yielding to descend Might much against his rank offend ; The fight must therefore be denied. When Methven heard, and thus replied Chiefs ! for the high regard you bear My house, accept my thanks sincere ; But nice distinctions here to claim May place in risk our country's fame. Shall strangers bear the tale away To England's court, and, taunting, say— The Scottish chieftain's rank defends His fame ? — he only fights his friends !- If, then, we, as the umpires here, A due regard to honour bear, We shall not from the proffer'd fight Bar any present Christian knight ; that our faith the stranger holds The symbol of his shield unfolds That knighthood, and its laws, he knows, His military girdle shews : Yet with my son it rests, to choose His battle, or his claims refuse : And whether he '11 resign the day, Or fight the stranger, let him say.

Thus spoke the Thane ; when loudly cried Gilwarden ; Words in me were pride ; But I have not assum'd the field Its honors thus, untried, to yield ; And, than the English champion, none I'd rather meet ; brave knight, come on ; He cried, and took a wide career, His target brac'd, and fixed his spear ; While also fitting for the fight Rode proudly forth the stranger knight. And now oppos'd in bright display, All eyes were on them drawn ; speedily, from distant play The combat dread began ; When man to man, and horse to horse, Moving in all their pride and force, Inspir'd, alternate' with delight And terror, all who viewed the fight. And 'mid surrounding hopes and fears, Thus, long with skill profound They fought ; and when their broken spears In pieces strew'd the ground, With equal ardour, sword to sword, The furious battle they restor'd. But long from skill, 'twas not conceal'd Who had the mastery of the field ; For oft though Lord Gilwarden gave High proof of art, and courage brave, 'Twas marked that still the stranger knight Controll'd his action and his might ; And ever firm, serene, and gay, Seem'd studious rather to display The combat's arts, than of his foe To seek the vantage or o'erthrow ; Canto I. 18 BATTLE OF LONCARTY.

Yet in the battle's every part Gave such display of grace and art, As few the like had e'er beheld, And none had ever seen excell'd. Thus many, all the fight throughout, Observ'd the stranger knight with doubt, And fear'd that for some fatal end His powers surpassing were restrain'd ; For still he urg'd the fight, though all Observ'd Gilwarden's ardour fall : And even his sire, in secret thought With fear for the event was fraught : But honor's institutes severe Forbade even him to interfere. And now his vantage to embrace The stranger more appear'd to press : His strokes fell faster, louder rung, And o'er his bending foe he hung, Strong as the blast that on the lea Rocks ev'ry way the lonely tree. Yet brave Gilwarden still maintain'd The battle ; but at length constrain'd glory To droop, the stranger pressed anew, And from his grasp his weapon threw ; Leaving him to a thrust exposed, That launched would have his scene of clos'd : But, that with skilful movement done, The stranger cast to earth his own, His shield upon his thigh reclined, And modestly the further fight resign'd, The stranger's presence in their plains At first had mov'd the Scottish trains, But their amazement doubly grew His gallantry in arms to view : And though he, all unknown, had won The victory from their chieftain's son, So much do noble acts delight And ravish the beholders' sight, That instantly to his applause A general shout from all arose.

The battle thus both nobly won And lost, the Thane embrac'd his son BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I With rapture not to be repress'd, And then the stranger thus address'd. Brave knight, my son a battle lost To thee, with many gain'd may boast : With thee, he, in his course to fame, May long confess a second name ; For thou, whate'er thy fine or land, Art stamp'd renown by Nature's hand. The chieftain ceas'd : and to reply The stranger seem'd address'd ; When suddenly on every eye A brighter object press'd. The beauteous Inva, who, subdu'd By fear, the fight had anxious view'd, Now all from her alarm reliev'd, For having wrong'd the stranger, grieved And in her pleasure's sudden glow Bent him some special grace to show, With looks benign the lovely maid Passing the warriors through, Her gentle steed by pages led, Near to the hero drew ; And pulling from her arm, as fair As snow, a chain of jewels rare ; Scarce venturing to advance so high As his bar'd helm her timid eye ; From me, said she, renown'd sir knight, This trifle deign to wear, In humble token of a weight Of gratitude sincere That you have in a sister mov'd By having spar'd a brother lov'd : And wait on you may honour high, And ev'ry sweet affection's joy, Through glory's bright career !

And when your earthly course shall end, Through which may Fate from ills defend, May Heaven its kindest angels send To meet you at your bier ! The gallant stranger, bending low In homage o'er his saddle-bow, Receiv'd the chain, his arm uncas'd, And plac'd it on his manly wrist, While through his frame a tremor spread, As all his lighter mail display'd ; Then mildly answer'd : Lady fair, Your honour'd favour thus I wear ; It shall this arm, while spar'd by Fate, To acts of greatness consecrate, And to me a remembrance serve This high distinction to deserve. When, with impressive grace adorn'd, Her steed the beauteous Inva turn'd, And towards Methven halls withdrew, Soon in the woodlands lost to view. While, with her eager to conspire In courtesy, resum'd her sire. Thus gallant knight, we would award To your deserts our best regard : But now it is the day's decline, And we for rest the field resign : You to our castle will repair, We trust, the evening feast to share : Resign'd to ease, and kindly deign With us a season to remain ; All honour shall your stay abide.

When thus the stranger grave replied. For such distinction, chief renown 'd, Accept my gratitude profound ; But me, your hospitable joys To share, a knightly vow denies ; To arms consign'd, my trade the sword, I fare as fields and woods afford ; And ere I rest or make my home In courtly hall, or lordly dome, Yet many moons their fight must waste. Now to the Scottish court I haste, There further, in the presence high, My humble gifts in arms to try. Brave knight, with aspect chang'd, replied The chief, our court for martial pride Renown'd, is now, we all repine, No scene for high pursuits like thine. Time is not long, since Scotland's court Was knightly strangers' fit resort ; But there rebellion forth has pour'd Her dragons with the civil sword, c And treason rear'd its javelin dread Against the public parent's head.

And now misrule its halls pervade, Fall'n is its fame, its greatness fled. Alas ! I am in fault to name In stranger's ear my country's shame. When thus the knight. In journeying here, Strange rumours met, indeed, my ear ; And I the boon would highly hold If now I fully might be told What are, and of what causes born, The ills you thus so deeply mourn : To those who arms profess, belongs To know of states the fame and wrongs ; And I, in travelling nations o'er, Their histories love in mind to store. To which the chief: — Brave knight, we fear The tale you ask will wound your ear ; But yielding to your fair request, Here on the heath a time we'll rest, And you of those events of wo A further brief detail shall know. Canto I. 25 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. He called his bard ; who straight appear'd, Rev'rend with hoary hair and beard, But eyes that fire of soul express'd : When thus the chieftain him address'd. Relate, O bard of Oran-Morn !

The griefs which late have Scotland torn, Speak forth the fates to which we owe Our past, and fears of future wo ; The theme, to us, is fraught with pain, But let not sorrow mar the strain ; The noble stranger seeks to hear, Speak with expression worthy of his ear. END OF CANTO FIRST. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 27 to their

Canto II

The minstrel heard ; with eyes of fire He threw his fingers o'er his lyre ; Upon a bank with heather crowned He stood, the chiefs reclin'd around ; When wildly rais'd to heaven the man Of song his eyes, and thus began : W here are the great, the mighty gone ? Prepare the tide of grief to pour — The pride and hope of Albyn's throne,* The sons of Malcolm, are no more. 'Reav'd of their sire ere yet they knew Their loss, at court the princes grew, * Albyn, the name anciently given by the Scots country. D BATTLE OF LONCARTY. And soon of King Indolphus won Like love with Culenus his son ; And as in studies, hopes, and years, The three young princes thus were peers, So joined their loves ; and with their youth Their friendship grew in strength and truth. But ere they thus had fully grown To years mature, of Albyn's throne The triple hope, fierce Cimbria pour'd * Upon our shores her bands abhorr'd, And King Indolphus, prompt to save His country, found a timeless grave.

He fallen ; Prince Duphus, Malcolm's son First, born, succeeded to the throne ; And scarce was power to him assigned, When, gratefully, he bent his mind To yield to King Indolphus' son ; Like grace his sire to him had shewn ; And Culen held through all the land, Next to himself, the chief command. Cimbria, now Denmark. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. King Duphus'* brother, Kenneth, held His equal love ; and, pleas'd, beheld Him thus his utmost grace extend Towards their childhood's mutual friend ; But rapt in deep research of mind Himself the cares of power declin'd. For Kenneth had been early drawn The kingdom's institutes to scan ; And searching them with reverend awe He in them certain errors saw, Which, if he ere to power attain'd, He vow'd to labour to amend : And that he might his mind supply With knowledge meet for aims so high, Was bent to foreign lands to stray To learn their arts of sovereign sway.

The king, in fond fraternal love, His brother's purpose strove to move, * King Duphus. I have here ventured on poetical licence so far as to alter this king's name, which, in the history, is spelt Duffus, to Duphus, as, in my opinion, sounding more accordant to poetry. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. But nought could his resolves subdue ; And guis'd an humble knight, with two Attendants which the kingdom chose, That more might not his rank disclose, He on his travels pass'd away, The search of wisdom to essay. And now, alas ! the glorious sun Five times his annual course has run, Since Kenneth, full of promise fair, Through foreign dangers went to fare ; While Albyn hears of him no more, And we, as lost, the prince deplore. Alas ! had he return'd and brought The wiser laws for which he sought, He from our country might have borne The ills that lately it have torn, And staid our still portentous fears.

Thus sung the bard with bursting tears, For he had Kenneth known and loved, And, save the stranger, all were mov'd. Thus, rapt in patriot grief, his song The minstrel staid ; but paus'd not long, BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 31 When, with returning fire imbued, His rushing theme he thus renewed : But now at court while state affairs Engaged King Duphus' virtuous cares, By sudden posts he knowledge gain'd That rapines dread th' Æbudæ stain'd : For Rognwald, from Pomona's shore, Appalling as the whirlpools roar, Had pass'd the sea in dark array, And made the Western Isles his prey. And Rognwald, highly through the north Allied, had in his train led forth The sons of many kindreds great, Who, tired of order in the state, And heated by their passions wild, For strife and lawless outrage boiled ; And who in bands from isle to isle Now roam'd exacting mail or spoil, And, not their fury thus assuag'd, In every nameless violence raged.

The king, incens'd that such a stain Should blot the dawning of his reign, BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Commanded that there straight be led Meet force to quell the daring raid ; And Culen, eager to sustain His king and friend's insulted reign, Soon with a band resistless sail'd And everywhere the ravage quell'd ; When of the robbers low and vile He many sent into exile : But those who had the ravage led For judgment more severe he staid, And held them prisoners to await The king's decision on their fate. And now to Scoon the joyous fame Of Culen's brave achievement came : But when the king, already wroth, Had more of the rebellion's growth Inquired, and found that some of birth And rank, the highest in the north, Were 'mongst its chiefs and leaders nam'd, His anger into fury flam'd. Is this ! cried he, the law's return From those its institutes adorn BATTLE OF LONCARTY.