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And aching head and heart some rest required,
I've drawn thee forth for pastime, rubb'd thee bright, And pondering o'er each deeply-treasured word, Cried' onward!' in despite of hope deferr'd.
“ 'Tis onward now, and on a different path.”
Here he replaced his implements of war,
Good faith and manhood for one's leading star,
Est forti patria ;' but bereavement's scar Heals not with heathen maxims cold and tame. Say, then, 'Heaven's power is everywhere the same.'
"My father ! this, and all I know of good,
Wild urchin as I was, I owed to thee.
From the starch cut-throats who our masters be.
* Is circled by yon distant hills I see, The Highcleres. Ay the glimpse that now appears Adds half a century to my sense of years.
“Falkland, Caernarvon, Sunderland, --and thou,
Father and mother, both ; for since the loss Of my poor mother, thou disdt ne'er allow
The nurse's fooleries to mar or cross The making of a man--such, I'll avow,
Were thy own words--my nurture did engross Thy time at study, martial sport, and board.-How rich that ill-starr'd harvest of the sword!
“ It was my first pitch'd field ; (though Albourne Chase
Was a tough prelude, where we cut them down, Worrying their rear, while the King made a race
From Gloucester, to seize first on Newbury town.) Westward from north to south our lines did face,
Flank'd by the stream ; the standard of the Crown Flew on that spot in the rough upland plain, Mark'd now by three green mounds that hide the slain.
* The autumn sun rose gaily in our rear
On carbine bright, steel cap, and banderolle, And glancing on their distant pikes, show'd clear
The Roundhead lines defiling down the knoll From Enborne's woodland hamlet ; a quick ear
Could catch the growing hum, the creak and roll Of ordnance, and the tramp of horse and man Through the deep vale that stretch'd beneath our van.
"I could not share the gallant recklessness
Of our young nobles, when distinct I saw Troop after troop of rebel horsemen press
Up to the front: I thought with solemn awe, • Who knows but I am this night fatherless ?"
Yet, pondering still on Heaven's own written law, Honour the King,'I felt unshaken trust, And strength to play the man in quarrel just.
"''Tis Essex ; look, he gallops from the rear,'
Whisper'd my father, ' fronts their vanguard ; see His arm's proud motion ;--ay, he ne'er knew fear;
He wears his bullet-mark defyingly,
The plumed white hat. Hark | how the train-bands cheer!
They know that rallying-point, and fair and free
"Curse on court arts !—the self-styled Solomon
Left an inheritance of strife and ruth,
Essex owes little to the Crown, in truth.
The base rank outrages that wrong'd his youth-
Their foremost column of attack was now
Deploying from Cope Hall and Skinner's Green;
Deep in their van, when Rupert, hot and keen,
And, baulking our good culverins, rush'd between
"I saw a look exchanged of deep suspense
Between the King and Ruthven, who just pass'd
They knew, placed all things on a doubtful cast.
Our brave Caernarvon and my sire stood fast,
"If deeds could have atoned for rashness then,
They shone in Rupert's charge; for what, in truth,
Like their barbs, thorough-bred, and from their youth
Down went the koaves by hundreds; but, good sooth,
" The ribald taunt of city horns,' so rife,
Was paid in kind; rooted the irain-bands stood
By strength and skill the ban-dog's hardihood.
Batter'd and gored, our cavaliers renew'd
"Three minutes more had shamed our discipline;
But Rupert's trumpet sounded a retreat;
Dalbier and Stapleton cheer'd on th'élite
Gave signal, and three thousand chargers' feet
Lord Ruthven, who commanded under the King at the first battle of Newbary, afterwards created Earl of Brentford.
“ 'Twas in that charge I won thee, my good blade,
My own was shiver'd to the hilt, I found, When leaving them all shatter'd and dismay'd,
We breathed and rallied on the well-won ground. His own page brought ihee, ere again array'd
We crush'd them in a second onset, crown'd With like result. I flesh'd thee deep and well, Good comrade, when thy noble donor fell.
“ Brave heart! he saw my father by my side,
Fell as a brother when those words he spoke. He fell; and memory proves but a faint guide
For three more hours: on all sides forth we broke Charging their central masses; far and wide
The combat ragell, and the arrillery's smoke Hid the sun, sinking from his noonday height, Who look'd as yet upon a doubtful fight.
“The foot gain'd on us; on the brow at last,
In groups that seem'd all order to defy, Hover'd the royal horse; at trumpet-blast
Our corps was rallying, when my father's eye Caught a deep train-band column inounting fast
The hill-side. 'Now or never! do or die! Forward ! avenge Caernarvon !-and the word Fired the whole regiment, who ihe twain adored.
My presage was fulfill'd : I saw him drop
At the next volley. But the foe was near; We had no time lo sorrow, think, or stop;
Headlong we clove our way from front to rear,
Poor George, who seconded my mad career
" But what avail'd stout hand and desperate heart,
When Heaven will'd otherwise? The column, cleft In sunder, forın'd anew; from every part
Gali’d by close fire, and of all hope bereft, Our remnant made an unexpected dart,
And cut their way again to the far left, Where, slackening speed to rest tired man andjhorse, We reach'd by a detour the King's main force.
"And now on equal ground both armies faced,
Mangled and worn: the bright September sun,
Miles in our rear, the shadow long and dun
At murderous range, as though we had begun
“My memory sickens at the drawn fight's close,
And the next morning's ghastly duties. How Slept the bold hearts, that when the last sun rose
Beat warm and high ? On that lone common's brow The herdsman, couch'd in undisturb'd repose,
Sees all their visible memorial now
" That night of wretchedness! a smart flesh-wound
Was welcome, as it partly turn'd away
Spoke the foe marching east at break of day,
We mark'd their rear-guard's soldier-like array
"The noble Falkland's host soon join'd our train,
With some of Byron's troopers, on a quest
Were ranged beside the corse of his late guest ;
The rudest soldier's grief flowed unrepressed.
A cordial bidding to good cheer; to me
Thou art my guest-nay, words of courtesy
By homely welcome, and communion free
" " May God deliver us from mortal sin!
Thus, mid the dying and the dead, to hear
''Tis Rupert's horse,' I answer'd; 'with their rear
Tells that his hoped success may cost him dear.
"Your words recall to me- I paused; he read
My thoughts, and press'd my hand. 'I knew full well
• Brave and humane, whose influence much did tell
Yet all for peace, as long as peace could dwell
"' Fearful indeed; it made him heart and soul,'
I answer'd,' a staid man of peace and thought.
After that fight;-whole regiments where they fought
Of minor features, which a word had wrought
" Anon he told me how upon the night
Before the battle his illustrious guest
With the whole household, at his own request,
* See the Antiquities of Newbury, published by Messrs. Hall and Marsh of that town, a work of merit, to which the writer has to acknowledge many obligations.
As hoping to return no more from fight,
And wishing with a calm unburthen's breast To meet his Maker, as a brave man ought.Would the same mind had been in all who fought!'
"Amen!' said I. 'Howbeit, my gallant sire,
Stretch'd there beside him, was prepared by prayer, His natural temper was brimfull of tire
And buoyant hope, though widowhood and care Had turn'd to better thoughts each vain desire
Of worldly happiness; now lies he there With Heaven's own peace writ plainly on his brow.Bear with me; I can weep more freely now.' " With such like converse lightening sorrow's smart,
We took our way. He was a burgess good, Of grave and manly bearing, who apart
From the town's party feuds had ever stood; His calm, wise words sunk deep into my heart,
And cool'd the vengeful fever of my blood. flow often I have thought of Falkland since ! The noblest subject ever lost by prince.
" I see him now, as cool as on parade,
In Byron's front rank rushing on his fate, Where the foe's sweeping fire the thickest play'd.
Stern unto courtiers, true to King and State, Long his commanding worth had check'd and stay'd
Ill counsels; but when once he lost his weight,
“I left that roof recover'd of my wound,
Rich in a good man's prayers and benison, Calm, but forlorn; for in the narrow ground
Which held that honour'd, loved, lamented one, My heart was buried. Duty's sense I found
Sustain'd me, but the spring of life was gone; And praise, if praise I won, smote on my ear Like echo from a churchyard, cold and drear.
George Ward ne'er left my side: in distress
The strong, rough soldier did a mother's part, And taught me well to know the thoughtfulness,
The warmth, the worth of a poor peasant's heart; And when he fell in the fight's hottest press
Beside Shaw House, I felt as if death's dart Had done its all.-A year and month before, And the same scene of blood repeated o'er !
" The former field, too, within cannon-shot !
Old Homer may cry up the joy of strife; Such boyish petulance is soon forgot
In loss of friends; contempt of drum and fife Succeeds, and cool intent to bate no jot
Of a dear bargain for one's joyless life. 'Such, boy, is duty's sticking-stuff,' said Lisle, When after that third charge we breathed a while. “ Not much was taken, as we lawyers say,
By that same motion; charging o'er and o'er Our front with fearful odds, they made no way;
'Twas a drawn fight again, with blows good store.