been rendered frustrate by his enemies : that if he whereof he saw plainly his enemies marching toward should be brought to a battle the next day, it would him : wherefore when the whole army was come over please him of his great mercy to grant him the victory, this mountain, he commanded that there they should as his trust was only in him, and in the right which he make an halt, and so fit themselves for fight. At that had given him. Being thus armed with faith, about instant the lord John Chandos brought his ensign folded inidnight he laid himself upon a pallet or mattress to up, and offered it to the prince, saying, “Sir, here is take a little repose; but he arose again betimes and my guidon: I request your highness to display it abroad, heard mass, with his son the young prince, and re- and to give me leave to raise it this day as my banner: ceived absolution, and the body and blood of his Re- for I thank God and your highness, I have lands and deemer, as did the prince also, and most of the lords possessions sufficient to maintain it withall.' Then the and others who were so disposed.»--- Barnes. prince took the pennon, and having cut off the tail.

Thug also before the battle of Agincourt « after made it a square banner, and this done, both he and prayers and supplications of the king, his priests, and king Don Pedro for the greater honour, holding it bepeople, done with great devotion, the king of England tween their hands displayed it abroad, it being or, a in the morning very carly set forth his hosts in array.» sharp pile gules : and then the prince delivered it unto -Stowe.

the lord Chandos again, saying, “Sir John, behold here Note 174, page 42, col. 2.

is your banner. God send you much joy and honour The shield of dignity.

with it.' And thus being made a knight banneret, the The roundel. A shield too weak for service, which lord Chandos returned to the head of his men, and said,

'Here, gentlemen, bebold my banner and was borne before the general of an army.


Take and keep it, to your honour and mine.' And so they Note 175, page 43, col. 1.

took it with a shout, and said hy the grace of God and They might meet the battle.

St George they would defend it to the best of their The conduct of the English on the morning of the powers. But the banner remained in the hands of a balile of Crecy is followed in the text. « All things gallant English esquire named William Allestry, who being thus ordered, every lord and captain under his bore it all that day, and acquitted himself in the serown banner and pennon, and the ranks duly settled, the vice right honourably.» – Barnes. valorous young king mounted on a lusty white hobby,

Note 177, page 43, col. 2. and with a white wand in his hand, rode between his two marshals from rank to rank, and from one battalia unto another, exhorting and encouraging every man

This title frequently occurs in the French Chronithat day to defend and maintain his right and honour: cles; it was peculiar to France, « the vidame or viceand this he did with so chearful a countenance, and dominus being to the bishop in his temporals as the with such sweet and obliging words, that even the vicecomes or vicount anciently to the earl, in his jumost faint-hearted of the army were sufficiently assured dicials. »

Peter Heylyn. thereby. By that time the English were thus prepared ;

Note 178, page 43, col. 2. it was nine o'clock in the morning, and then the king

And silken surcoats to tbe mid-day sun commanded them all to take their refreshment of meat

Glittering. and drink, which being done, with small disturbance

Joshua Barnes seems to have been greatly impressed they all repaired to their colours again, and then laid

with the splendour of such a spectacle.

«It was a themselves in their order upon the dry and warm grass, florious and ravishing sight, no doubt,» says he, « to with their bows and helmets by their side, to be more behold these two armies standing thus regularly emfresh and vigorous upon the approach of the enemy.» battled in the field, their banners and standards waving --Joshua Barnes. The English before the battle of Azincour « fell pros- knights, and esquires richly armed, and all shining in

in the wind, their proud horses barbed, and kings, lords, trate to the ground, and committed themselves to

their surcoats of satin and embroidery.» God, every of them tooke in his mouth a little piece of

Thus also at Poictiers, « there you might have bebeld earth, in remembrance that they were mortall and made of earth, as also in remembrance of the holy commu- feathered crests of glittering helmets, and the rich em

a most beautiful sight of fair harness, of shining steel, nion.»— Stowe.

broidery of silken surcoats of arms, together with golden Note 176, page 43, col. 2.

standards, banners, and pennons gloriously moving in To see the pennons rolling their long waves

the air.» Before the gale, and banners broad and bright.

And at Nagera « the sun being now risen, it was a The pennon was long, ending in two points, the ravishing sight to behold the armies, and the sun re

« Un seigneur n'etoit banneret et ne flecting from their bright steel and shining armour. For pouvoit porter le banniere quarrée, que lors qu'il pou- in those days the cavalry were generally armed in mail voit entretenir a ses depens un certain nombre de clie- or polished steel at all points, and besides that, the nobivaliers et d'Ecuyers, avec leur suite a la guerre : jus-lity wore over their armour rich surtouts of silk and satin ques-la son etendard avoit deux queues ou fanons, et, embroidery, whereon was curiously sticht or beaten, the quand il devenoit plus puissant, son souverain coupoit arms of their house, whether in colour or metal.» lui-meme les fanons de son etendard, pour le rendre quarré.»- Comte de Tressan.

Note 179, page 43, col. 2. An incident before the battle of Nagera exemplifies

And their dear country's weal. « As the two armies approached near together, Nos ancestres, et notamment du temps de la guerre the prince went over a little hill, in the descending des Anglois, en combats solemnels et journées assignées,

banner square.


se mettoient la plus-part du temp tous à pied ; pour ne

His horse in fine sandel was trapped to the heele,

And, in his chereron biforne, se fier à autre chose qu'à leur force propre et viguer

Stode as an unicorne, de luer courage et de luer membres, de chose si chere

Als sharp as a tborne, que l'honneur et la vie. — Montaigne, liv. i, c. 48.

An anlas of stele. In the battle of Patay, Monstrelet says, « les François

Sir Gauern and Sir Galaron. moult de pres mirent pied à terre, et descendirent la

The Abyssinians use it at this day; Bruce says it is plus grand partie de leur chevaulx.»

a very troublesome useless piece of their armour. In El Cavallero Determinado, an allegorical romance, translated from the French of Olivier de la Marche by

Note 183, page 44, col. 1. Hernando de Acuña, Barcelona, 1565, this custom is

To snatch the shield of death. referred to by Understanding, when giving the knight Thus did Juba catch up the shield of death to defend directions for his combat with Atropos.

himself from ignominy.- Cleopatra.
En esto es mi parecer

Note 184, page 44, col. 1.
Que en cavallo po te fies;

Their tower of strength.
Por lo qual has de entender
Que de ninguno conties

Ωσπερ γαρ μιν πυργον εν οφθαλμοισιν ορωσιν.
Tu lymosna y bien hazer.

ΤΥΡΤΑΙΟΣ. Note 180, page 43, col. 2.

Quarles has made this expression somewhat ludiTheir javelios lessen'd to a wieldy length.

crous by calling Sampson Thus at Poicliers, « the three battails being all ready

Great army of men, the wonder of whose power rapped in the field, and every lord in his due place

Gives thee the title of a walking tower. under his own banner, command was given that all men should put off their spurs, and cut their spears to five

Note 185, page 44, col. 2. foot length, as most commodious for such who had left

And when the boar's bead. their horses.»- Barnes.

Two carols for this occasion are preserved in Mr

Ritson's valuable collection of Ancient Songs. The first
Note 181, page 43, col. 2.

of these, here alluded to, is as follows:
Hræsvelger starting.
Hras velger vocatur

Capui apri defero

Reddens laudes domino.
Qui sedet in extremitate cæli,
Gigas exuvias amictus aquilæ :

The bore's beed in hand bring I
Ex ejus alis

With garlands gay and rosemary,
Ferunt venire ventum

I pray you all synge merely
Omnes super homines.

Qui estis in condirio.

The bore's heed I understando
Where the heavens' remotest bound

Is the chefe servyce in this lande,
With darkness is encompassed round,

Looke where ever it be fande,
There Hræsvelger sits and swings

Servite cum cantico.
The tempest from his eagle wings.
The Edda of Sæmund, transl. by A. $. Cortlo.

Be gladde lordes bothe more and lasse

For ibis hath ordeyped our stewarde, At the promontory of Malea on the ruins of the

To chere you all this christmasso

The bore's heed with mustarde. Temple of Apollo, there is a chapel built to the honour of Michael the archangel. Here we could not but laugh

When Henry II had his eldest son crowned as fellow at the foolish superstition of the sailors, who say, when

with him in the kingdom, upon the day of coronation, the wind blows from that place, that it is occasioned by king Henry, the father, served his son at the table as the violent motion of St Michael's wings, because, for

sewer, bringing up the bore's head with trumpets before sooth, he is painted with wings. And for that reason, it

, according to the manner; whereupon (according to when they sail by Michael they pray to him that he

the old adage, may hold his wings still.-—Baumgarten.

Immutant mores homines cum dantur bonores)
Note 182, page 44, col. 1.

the young man conceiving a pride in his heart, beheld Or with the lance protended from his front.

the standers-by with a more stately countenance than In a combat fought in Smithfield 1467, between the he had been wont. The archbishop of York who sat by Jord Scales and the bastard of Burgoyne, the Jord

him, marking his behaviour, turned unto him and said, Scales' horse had on his chafron a long sharp pike of

« Be glad, my good son, there is not another prince in steele, and ası the two champions coaped together, the the world that hath such a sewer at his table.» To same horse thrust his pike into the nostrils of the this the new king answered as it were disdainfully thus ; bastard's borse, so that for very paine, he mounted so

« Why dost thou marvel at that? my father in doing bigh that he fell on the one side with his master.

it thinketh it not more than becometh him, he being Stowe.

born of princely blood only on the mother's side, serveth This weapon is mentioned by Lope de Vega, and by

me that am a king born, having both a king to my an old Scotch poet.

father and a queen to my mother.»

Thus the young Unicornio el cavallo parecia

man of an evil and perverse nature, was puffed up in Con la fuerte pyramide delante,

pride by his father's unseemly doings.
Que en medio del bocal resplandecia
Como si fuera punta de diamante.

But the king his father hearing his talk was very
Jerusalem Conquistada, I. 10.

sorrowful in his mind, and said to the archbishop softly in his ear, « It repenteth me, it repenteth me, my lord, that I have thus advanced the boy.» For he guessed appears in a very unfavourable liglit. Henry Windsor hereby what a one he would prove afterward, that writes thus of him :-« hit is not unknown that cruelle shewed himself so disobedient and forward already.— and vengible he hath byn ever, and for the most part Ilolinshed.

withoute pite and mercy. I can no more, but vade el Note 186, page 45, col. 1.

corripe eum, for truly he cannot bryng about his matiers

in this word (world), for the word is not for him. I Are not like yours so supple in the flight.

suppose it wolnoc chaunge yett be likeleness, but i Τους δε παλαιοτερους, ων ουκετε γουνατ' ελαφρα,

beseche you sir help not to amend hym onely, but Μη καταλειποντες φευγετε τους λεραιους

every other man yf ye kno any mo mysse disposed.» Αισχρον γαρ δη τουτο μετα προμαχοισι πεσοντα.

The order of the garter was taken from Fastolffe for Κεισθαι προσθε νεων ανορα παλαροτερον, his conduct at Patay. He suffered a more material loss Ηδη λευκoν εχοντα καρη, πολιον τε γενειον, in the money he expended in the service of the state. Θυμον αποπνειoντ' αλκιμον εν κοντη.

In 1455, 40831, 15. 7. were due to him for costs and ΤΥΡΤΑΙΟΣ. charges during his services in France, « whereof the

sayd Fastolffe hath had nouther payement nor assiguaNote 187, page 45, col. 1.

tion.» So he complains. He from the saddle-bow his falchion caught. In the combat between Francus and Phouere, Ronsard

Note 191, page 45, col. 1.

Battle-are. says, de la main leurs coutelas trouverent

In a battle between the Burgundians and Dauphinois Bien aiguises qui de l'arçon pendoyent.

near Abbeville (1421) Monstrelet especially notices the On this passage the commentator observes, « l'au- conduct of John Villain, who had that day been made theur arme ces deux chevaliers à la mode de nos

a knight. He was a nobleman from Flanders, very tall, gendarmes François, la lance en la main, la coutelace ou

and of great bodily strength, and was mounted on a la mace à l'arçon, et l'espée au costé. »

good horse, holding a battle-axe in both hands. Thus

be pushed into the thickest part of the battle, and Thus Desmarets says of the troops of Clovis,

throwing the bridle on his horse's neck, gave such A tous pend de l'arcon, à leur mode guerriere,

blows on all sides with his batile-axe, that whoever was Et la bacbe tranchante, et la masee meurtriere.

struck was instantly uphorsed and wounded past recoAnd when Clovis on foot and without a weapon hears very. In this way he met Poton de Xaintrailles, who, the shrieks of a woman, he sees his horse

after the battle was over, declared the wonders he did,

and that he got out of his reach as fast as he could. Jette l'ail sur l'arçon, et void luire sa hache.

Vol. v, p. 294. Lope de Vega speaks of the sword being carried in the

Note 192, page 45, col. 2. same manner, when he describes Don Juan de Aguilar as

Flis buckler now splinter'd with many a stroke.
Desatando del arcon la espada.

L'écu des chevaliers était ordinairement un bouclier
Note 188, page 45, col. 1.

de forme à peu près triangulaire, large par le haute pour

couvrir le corps, et se terminant en pointe par le bas, The lightning of her sword. Desnudo el rayo de la ardiente espada.

afin d'être moins lourd. On les faisait de bois qu'on reJerusalem Conquistada.

couvrait avec du cuir bouilli, avec des nerfs ou autres

matières dures, mais jamais de fer ou d'acier. SeuleNote 189, page 45, col. 1.

ment il était permis, pour les empêcher d'être coupés The sword of Talbot.

trop aisément par les épées, d'y mettre un cercle d'or, Talbot's sword, says Camden, was found in the river d'argent, ou de fer, qui les entourât.-Le Grand. of Dordon, and sold by a peasant to an armourer of Bourdeaux, with this inscription:

Note 193, page 46, col. 1.

Threw o'er the slaughter'd chief his blazon'd coat.
Sum Talboti, M. TITI. C. XLIU.
Pro vincere inimicos meos.

This fact is mentioned in Andrews's History of EngBut pardon the Latin, for it was not his, but his camp

land. I have merely versified the original expressions.

« The herald of Talbot sought out his body among the ing chaplains.-A sword with bad Latin upon it, but good steel within it, says Fuller.

slajn. 'Alas my lord! and is it you! I pray God pardon It was not uncommon to bear a motto upon the sword. you all your misdoings. I have been your officer of Lope de Vega describes that of Aguilar as bearing inlaid arms forty years and more: it is time that I should in gold, a verse of the psalms. It was, he says,

surrender to you the ensigns of my office.' Thus saying,

with the tears gushing from his eyes, he threw his coat Mas famosa que fue de hombre ceaida,

of arms over the corpse, thus performing one of the Para ocasiones del honor guardada,

ancient rites of sepulture.»
Y en última defensa de la vida,
Y desde cuya guarnicion dorada
Hasta la punta la canal bruñida

Note 194, page 46, col. 2.
Tenia escrito de David un verso.

Pour'd on the monarch's bead the mystic oil.
Sellado de oro en el acero terso.
Jerusalem Conquistnda.

The Frenchmen wonderfully reverence this oyle; and

at the coronation of their kings, fetch it from the Note 190, page 45, col, 1.

church where it is kept, with great solemnity. For it Fastolffe, all fierce and haughly as he was.

is brought (saith Sleiden in his commentaries) by the In the original letters published by Mr Fenn, Fastolffe prior sitting on a white ambling palfrey, and attended by his monkes ; the archbishop of the town (Rheims) cage, and the king, when it is by the archbishop brought and such bishops as are present, going to the church to the altar, bowing himself before it with great reverdoor to meet it, and leaving for it with the prior some ence. - Peter Heylyn.

The Uision of the Maid of Orleans.

Divinity bath oftentimes descended
Upon our slumbers, and the blessed troupes
Have, in the calme and quiet of the soule,
Conversed with us.

Sanaler. The Grateful Servant.



Hollow, and her sunk cheeks were furrow'd deep,
Channell’d by tears; a few grey locks hung down

Beneatlı ber hood, and through the Maiden's veins The Vision was originally printed as the ninth book Chill crept the blood, for, as the night-lrceze passid, of JOAN of ARC. The plan and execution of that Lifting her tatter'd manile, coild around Poem were equally faulty; it has been repeatedly and She saw a serpent gnawing at her heart, laboriously corrected; but as the only apology for the great and numerous faults which unavoidably remain, | The plumeless bat with short shrill note flits by, i request the rcader to recollect that it was first written and the night-raven's scream came fitfully, at the age of nineteen, and published at the age of one-Borne on the hollow blast. Eager the Maid and-twenty.

R. S. Look'd to the shore, and now upon the bank

Leaps, joyful to escape, yet trembling still

In recollection.

There, a mouldering pile
Stretch'd its wide ruins, o'er the plain below

Casting a gloomy shade, save where the moon
ORLEANS was hush'd in sleep. Stretch'd on her couch

Shone through its fretted windows : the dark yew, The delegated Maiden lay; with coil

Withering with age, branch'd there its naked roots, Exhausted, and sore anguish, soon she closed

And there the melancholy cypress rear'd Her heavy eyelids ; not reposing then,

Its head; the earth was heaved with many a mound, For busy fantasy, in other scenes

And here and there a half-demolish'd tomb.
Awakend: whether that superior powers,
By wise permission, prompt the midnight dream,

And now,

amid the ruin's darkest shade, Instructiog best the passive faculty;'

The Virgin's eye beheld where pale blue flames Or that the soul, escaped its fleshly clog,

Rose wavering, now just gleaming from the earth, Flies free, and soars amid the invisible world,

And now in darkness drown'd. An aged man
And all things are that seem."

Sate near, seated on what in long past days
Along a moor,

Had been some sculptured monument, now fallen Barren, and wide, and drear, and desolate,

And half-obscured by moss, and gather'd heaps She roam'd, a wanderer through the cheerless night.

Of wither'd yew-leaves and earth-mouldering bones;

His Far through the silence of the anbroken plain

eye was large and rapless, and fix'd full The bittern's boom was heard, hoarse, heavy, deep, Upon the Maid; the tomb-fires on his face It made accordant music to the scene.

Shed a blue light; his face was of the hue Black clouds, driven fast before the stormy wind, Of death; his limbs were mantled in a shroud. Swept shadowing; through their broken folds the moon Then with a deep heart-terrifying voice, Struggled at times with transitory ray,

Exclaim'd the spectre—«.Welcome to these realms, And made the moving darkness visible.

These regions of Despair! O thou whose steps
And now arrived beside a fenay lake

Sorrow hath guided to my sad abodes,
She stands, amid whose stagnate waters, hoarse Welcome to my drear empire, to this gloom
The long rceds rustled to the gale of night.

Eternal, to this everlasting night,
An age-worn bark receives the Maid, impellid

Where never morning darts the enlivening ray, By powers unseen; then did the moon display

Where never shines the sun, but all is dark,
Where through the crazy vessel's yawning side

Dark as the bosom of their gloomy king.»
The muddy wave ooz'd in. A female guides,
And spreads the sail before the wind, which moand So saying he arose, and drawing on,
As melancholy mournful to her ear,

ller, to the abbey's inner ruin, led As ever by the wretch was heard

Resistless. Through the broken roof the moon Howling at evening round his prison towers.

Glimmer'd a scatter'd ray; the ivy twined Wan was the pilot's countenance, ber

Round the dismantled column; imaged forms


Of saints and warlike chiefs, moss-cankerd now
And mutilate, lay strewn upon the ground,
With crumbled fragments, crucifixes fallen,
And rusted trophies. Meantime over-head
Roard the loud blast, and from the tower the owl
Scream'd as the tempest shook her secret nest.
He, silent, led her on, and often paused,
And pointed, that her eye might contemplate
At leisure the drear scene.

He dragg'd her on
Through a low iron door, down broken stairs;
Then a cold horror through the Maiden's frame
Crepi, for she stood amid a vault, and saw,
By the sepulchral lamp's dim glaring light,
The fragments of the dead.

« Look here !» he cried,
« Damsel, look here! survey this house of death :
O soon to tenant it! soon to increase
These trophies of mortality! for hence
Is no return. Gaze here ! behold this skull,
These eyeless sockets, and these untlesh'd jaws,
That, with their ghastly grinning, seem to mock
Thy perishable charms ; for thus thy cheek
Must moulder. Child of grief ! shrinks not thy Soul,
Viewing these horrors ? trembles not thy heart
Al the dread thought, that here its life's-blood soon
Shall stagnate, and the finely-fibred frame,
Now warm in life and feeling, mingle soon
With the cold clod ? thing horrible to think-
Yet in thought only, for reality
Is none of suffering here ; here all is peace,
No nerve will throb lo anguisha in the Grave.
Dreadful it is to think of losing life,
But having lost, knowledge of loss is not,
Therefore no ill. Haste, Maiden, to repose :
Probe deep the seat of life.»

So spake Despair.
The vaulted roof echoed his hollow voice,
And all again was silence. Quick her hicart
Panted. He drew a dagcer from his breast,
And cried again, « Haste, Damsel, to repose !
One blow, and rest for ever !» On the fiend,
Dark scowld the Virgin with indignant eye,
And dash'd the dagger dowo. He next bis heart
Replaced the murderous steel, and drew the Maid
Along the downward vault.

The damp earth gave
A dim sound as they pass'd: the taipted air
Was cold, and heavy with unwholesome dews.
a Behold!» the fiend exclaim'd, « how gradual liere
The tleshly burden of mortality
Moulders to clay!» then fixing his broad eye
Full on her face, he pointed where a corpse
Lay livid; she beheld, with loathing look,
The spectacle abhorr'd by living man.

That priest consign'd ber, for her lover went
By glory lured to war, and perish'd there;
Nor she endured to live, Ha ! fades thy cheek!
Dost thou then, Maideo, tremble at the tale ?
Look here ! behold the youthful paramour!
The self-devoted hero!»

The Maid look'd down, and saw the well-known face
Of Theodore! in thoughts unspeakable,
Convulsed with horror, o'er her face she claspd
Her cold damp hands: «Slirink pot,» the phantom cried,
« Gaze on! for ever gaze!» More firm he grasp'd
Her quivering arm : « this lifeless mouldering clay,
As well thou know'st, was warm with all the glow
Of youth and love ; this is the arm that cleaved
Salisbury's proud crest, now motionless in death,
Unable to protect the ravaged frame
From the foul offspring of mortality
That feed on heroes. Though long years were thine,
Yet never more would life reanimate
This murder'd youth; murderd by thee! for thou
Didst lead him to the battle from his home,
Else living there in peace to good old age :
In thy defence he died : strike deep! destroy
Remorse with life.»

The Maid stood motionless,
And, wistless what she did, with trembling hand
Received the dagger. Starting then, she cried,
« Avaunt, Despair! Eternal Wisdom deals
Or peace to man, or misery, for his good
Alike design'd; and shall the creature cry,
• Why bast thou done this ?' and with impious pride
Destroy the life God



The fiend rejoin'd, « And thou dost deem it impious to destroy The life God gave? What, Maiden, is the lot Assign'd to mortal man? born but to drag, Through life's long pilgrimage, the wearying load Of being; care-corroded at the heart; Assail'd by all the numerous train of ills That flesh inherits ; till at length worn out, This is his consummation !-think again! What, Maiden, canst thou hope from lengthen'd life But lengthen'd sorrow? If protracted long, Till on the bed of death thy feeble limbs Stretch out their languid length, oh think what tboughts, What agonizing feelings, in that hour, Assail the sinking heart! Slow beats the pulse, Dim grows


eye, and clammy drops bedew The shiuddering frame; then in its mightiest force,

Mightiest in impotence, the love of life
Seizes the throbbing heart; the faltering lips

Pour out the impious prayer, tbat fain would change
The Unchangeable's decree; surrounding friends
Sob round the sufferer, wet his cheek with tears,
And all he loved in life embitters death!

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« Look here!» Despair pursued; « this loathsome mass
Was once as lovely, and as full of life
As, Damsel! thou art now. Those deep-sunk eyes
Once beam'd the mild light of intelligence,
And where thou seest the pamper'd tesli-worm trail,
Once the white bosom heaved. She fondly thought
That at the hallow'd altar, scon the priest
Should bless her coming union, and the torch
Its joyful lustre o'er the hajl of joy
Cast on her nuptial evening : earth to earth

« Such, Maiden, are the pangs that wait the hour
Of calmest dissolution ! yet weak man
Dares, in his timid piety, to live;
And, veiling Fear in Superstition's garb,
He calls her Resignation!

Coward wretch!
Fond coward; thus to make his reason war
Against his reason! Insect as be is,
This sport of chance, this being of a day,

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