Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

DRAMATIC PIECES.

Halidon Hill:

A DRAMATIC SKETCH FROM SCOTTISH HISTORY.

PREFACE.

THOUGH the Public seldom feel much interest in such communications (nor is there any reason why they should), the Author takes the liberty of stating, that these scenes were commenced with the purpose of contributing to a miscellany projected by a much-esteemed friend. But instead of being confined to a scene or two, as intended, the work gradually swelled to the size of an independent publication. It is designed to illustrate military antiquities, and the manners of chivalry. The drama (if it can be termed one) is, in no particular, either designed or calculated for the stage.3

The subject is to be found in Scottish history; but not to overload so slight a publication with antiquarian research, or quotations from obscure chronicles, may be sufficiently illustrated by the following passage from PINKERTON'S History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 72.

"The Governor (anno 1402) dispatched a considerable force under Murdac, his eldest son: the Earls of Angus and Moray also joined Douglas, who entered England with an army of ten thousand men, carrying terror and devastation to the walls of Newcastle.

Henry IV. was now engaged in the Welsh war against Owen Glendour; but the Earl of

1 Published by Constable & Co., June, 1822, in 8vo. 6s. 2 The author alludes to a collection of small pieces in verse, edited, for a charitable purpose, by Mrs. Joanna Baillie.-See Life of Scott, vol. vii. pp. 7, 18, 169-70.

s In the first edition, the text added, "In case any attempt shall be made to produce it in action (as has happened in similar cases), the author takes the present opportunity to intimate, that it shall be at the peril of those who make such an experiment." Adverting to this passage, the New Edinburgh Review (July, 1822) said,-"We, nevertheless, do not believe that any thing more essentially dramatic, in so far as it goes, more capable of stage effect, has appeared in England since the days of her greatest genius; and giving Sir Walter, therefore, full credit for his coyness on the present occasion, we ardently hope that he is but trying his strength in the most arduous of all literary enterprises, and that, ere long, he

Northumberland, and his son, the Hotspur Percy, with the Earl of March, collected a numerous array, and awaited the return of the Scots, impeded with spoil, near Milfield, in the north part of Northumberland. Douglas had reached Wooler, in his return; and, perceiving the enemy, seized a strong post between the two armies, called Homildonhill. In this method he rivalled his predecessor at the battle of Otterburn, but not with like success. The English advanced to the assault, and Henry Percy was about to lead them up the hill, when March caught his bridle, and advised him to advance no farther, but to pour the dreadful shower of English arrows into the enemy. This advice was followed by the usual fortune; for in all ages the bow was the English instrument of victory; and though the Scots, and perhaps the French, were superior in the use of the spear, yet this weapon was useless after the distant bow had decided the combat. Robert the Great, sensible of this at the battle of Bannockburn, ordered a prepared detachment of cavalry to rush among the English archers at the commencement, totally to disperse them, and stop the deadly effusion. But Douglas now used no such precaution, and the consequence was, that his people, drawn up on the face of the hill, presented one general mark to the enemy, none of whose arrows descended in vain.

[ocr errors]

will demonstrate his right to the highest honors of the tragic muse. The British Critic, for October, 1822, says, on the same head, "Though we may not accede to the author's declaration, that it is in no particular calculated for the stage,' we must not lead our readers to look for any thing amounting to a regular drama. It would, we think, form an underplot of very great interest, in an historical play of customary length; and although its incidents and personages are mixed up, in these scenes, with an event of real history, there is nothing in either to prevent their being interwoven in the plot of any drama of which the action should lie in the confines of England and Scotland, at any of the very numerous periods of Border warfare. The whole interest, indeed, of the story, is engrossed by two characters, imagined, as it appears to us, with great force and probability, and contrasted with considerable skill and effect."

The Scots fell without fight, and unrevenged, till a spirited knight, Swinton, exclaimed aloud, ‘O my brave countrymen! what fascination has seized you to-day, that you stand like deer to be shot, instead of indulging your ancient courage, and meeting your enemies hand to hand? Let those who will, descend with me, that we may gain victory, or life, or fall like men." This being heard by Adam Gordon, between whom and Swinton there remained an ancient deadly feud, attended with the mutual slaughter of many followers, he instantly fell on his knees before Swinton, begged his pardon, and desired to be dubbed a knight by him whom he must now regard as the wisest and the boldest of that order in Britain. The ceremony performed, Swinton and Gordon descended the hill, accompanied only by one hundred men; and a desperate valor led the whole body to death. Had a similar spirit been shown by the Scottish army, it is probable that the event of the day would have been different. Douglas, who was certainly deficient in the most important qualities of a general, seeing his army begin to disperse, at length attempted to descend the hill; but the English archers, retiring a little, sent a flight of arrows so sharp and strong, that no armor could withstand; and the Scottish leader himself, whose panoply was of remarkable temper, fell under five wounds, though not mortal. The English men-ofarms, knights, or squires, did not strike one blow, but remained spectators of the rout, which was now complete. Great numbers of the Scots were slain, and near five hundred perished in the river Tweed upon their flight. Among the illustrious captives was Douglas, whose chief wound deprived him of an eye; Murdac, son of Albany; the Earls of Moray and Angus; and about twenty-four gentlemen of eminent rank and power. The chief slain were, Swinton, Gordon, Livingston of Calendar, Ramsay of Dalhousie, Walter Sinclair, Roger Gordon, Walter Scott, and others. Such was the issue of the unfortunate battle of Homildon."

It may be proper to observe, that the scene of action has, in the following pages, been transferred from Homildon to Halidon Hill. For this there was an obvious reason;-for who would again venture to introduce upon the scene the celebrated Hotspur, who commanded the English at the former battle? There are, however, several coincidences which may reconcile even the severer antiquary to the substitution of Halidon Hill for Homildon. A Scottish army was defeated by the English on both occasions, and under nearly the

1 "Miles magnanimus dominus Johannes Swinton, tanquam voce horrida præconis exclamavit, dicens, O commilitones inclyti! quis vos hodie fascinavit non indulgere solitæ probitati, quod nec dextris conseritis, nec ut viri corda erigitis, ad invadendum æmulos, qui vos, tanquam damulos vel hinnulos

same circumstances of address on the part of the victors, and mismanagement on that of the vanquished, for the English long-bow decided the day in both cases. In both cases, also, a Gordon was left on the field of battle; and at Halidon, as at Homildon, the Scots were commanded by an illfated representative of the great house of Douglas, He of Homildon was surnamed Tineman, i. e. Lose man, from his repeated defeats and miscarriages; and, with all the personal valor of his race, seems to have enjoyed so small a portion of their sagacity, as to be unable to learn military experience from reiterated calamity. I am far, however, from intimating, that the traits of imbecility and envy attributed to the Regent in the following sketch, are to be historically ascribed either to the elder Douglas of Halidon Hill, or to him called Tineman, who seems to have enjoyed the respect of his countrymen, notwithstanding that, like the celebrated Anne de Montmorency, he was either defeated, or wounded, or made prisoner, in every battle which he fought. The Regent of the sketch is a character purely imaginary.

The tradition of the Swinton family, which still survives in a lineal descent, and to which the author has the honor to be related, avers, that the Swinton who fell at Homildon in the manner related in the preceding extract, had slain Gordon's father; which seems sufficient ground for adopting that circumstance into the following dramatic sketch, though it is rendered improbable by other authorities.

If any reader will take the trouble of looking at Froissart, Fordun, or other historians of the period, he will find, that the character of the Lord of Swinton, for strength, courage, and conduct, is by no means exaggerated. W. S.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

Were all unknown to me. Brave youths they seem'd;

Yet, surely, fitter to adorn the tilt-yard,
Than to be leaders of a war. Their followers,
Young like themselves, seem like themselves un-
practised-

Look at their battle-rank.

PRI. I cannot gaze on't with undazzled eye, So thick the rays dart back from shield and hel

met,

And sword and battle-axe, and spear and pennon.
Sure 'tis a gallant show! The Bruce himself
Hath often conquer'd at the head of fewer
And worse appointed followers.

VIP. Ay, but 'twas Bruce that led them. Reverend Father,

'Tis not the falchion's weight decides a combat;
It is the strong and skilful hand that wields it.
Ill fate, that we should lack the noble King,
And all his champions now! Time call'd them not,
For when I parted hence for Palestine,
The brows of most were free from grizzled hair.
PRI. Too true, alas! But well you know, in Scot-
land

Few hairs are silver'd underneath the helmet;
'Tis cowls like mine which hide them. 'Mongst
the laity,

War's the rash reaper, who thrusts in his sickle

VIP. No further, Father-here I need no guid- Before the grain is white. In threescore years

[blocks in formation]

PRI. Alas! there have been changes since that Champion of Heaven, and of thy suffering country! time!

The Royal Bruce, with Randolph, Douglas, Gra

hame,

[Exit PRIOR. VIPONT draws a little aside and lets down the beaver of his helmet.

Then shook in field the banners which now moulder Enter SWINTON, followed by REYNALD and others, to Over their graves i' the chancel.

VIP. And thence comes it,

That while I look'd on many a well-known crest And blazon'd shield,' as hitherward we came, The faces of the Barons who display'd them

1 MS.-"I've look'd on many a well-known pennon Playing the air," &c.

whom he speaks as he enters.

Swi. Halt here, and plant my pennon, till the

Regent

Assign our band its station in the host.

2 MS.-"The youths who hold," &c. "are." 3 MS. -"with prayers for Scotland's weal."

REY. That must be by the Standard. We have To bear a sword—there's not a man behind,
had

That right since good Saint David's reign at least.
Fain would I see the Marcher would dispute it.
Swi. Peace, Reynald! Where the general plants
the soldier,

There is his place of honor, and there only
His valor can win worship. Thou'rt of those,
Who would have war's deep art bear the wild sem-
blance

Of some disorder'd hunting, where, pell-mell,
Each trusting to the swiftness of his horse,
Gallants press on to see the quarry fall.
Yon steel-clad Southrons, Reynald, are no deer;
And England's Edward is no stag at bay.

VIP. (advancing.) There needed not, to blazon
forth the Swinton,

His ancient burgonet, the sable Boar
Chain'd to the gnarl'd oak,'-nor his proud step,
Nor giant stature, nor the ponderous mace,
Which only he, of Scotland's realm, can wield:
His discipline and wisdom mark the leader,
As doth his frame the champion. Hail, brave
Swinton!

Swi. Brave Templar, thanks! Such

your

cross'd

shoulder speaks you; But the closed visor, which conceals your features, Forbids more knowledge. Umfraville, perhaps VIP. (unclosing his helmet.) No; one less worthy of our sacred Order.

However old, who moves without a staff.
Striplings and graybeards, every one is here,
And here all should be-Scotland needs them all;
And more and better men, were each a Hercules,
And yonder handful centuplied.

VIP. A thousand followers-such, with friends
and kinsmen,

Allies and vassals, thou wert wont to lead-
A thousand followers shrunk to sixty lances
In twelve years' space-And thy brave sons, Sir
Alan!

Alas! I fear to ask.

Swi. All slain, De Vipont. In my empty home
A puny babe lisps to a widow'd mother,
"Where is my grandsire! wherefore do you
weep?"

But for that prattler, Lyulph's house is heirless.
I'm an old oak, from which the foresters

Have hew'd four goodly boughs, and left beside

me

Only a sapling, which the fawn may crush
As he springs over it.

VIP. All slain ?-alas!

Swi. Ay, all, De Vipont. And their attributes,
John with the Long Spear-Archibald with the
Axe-

Richard the Ready—and my youngest darling,
My Fair-hair'd William-do but now survive
In measures which the gray-hair'd minstrels sing,

Yet, unless Syrian suns have scorch'd my features When they make maidens weep.
Swart as my sable visor, Alan Swinton

Will welcome Symon Vipont.

SwI. (embracing him.) As the blithe reaper
Welcomes a practised mate, when the ripe harvest
Lies deep before him, and the sun is high!
Thou'lt follow yon old pennon, wilt thou not?

"Tis tatter'd since thou saw'st it, and the Boar-
heads

VIP. These wars with England, they have rooted

out

The flowers of Christendom. Knights, who might
win

The sepulchre of Christ from the rude heathen,
Fall in unholy warfare!

Swi. Unholy warfare? ay, well hast thou named
it;

Look as if brought from off some Christmas board, But not with England-would her cloth-yard shafts Where knives had notch'd them deeply.

VIP. Have with them, ne'ertheless. The Stuart's
Chequer,

The Bloody Heart of Douglas, Ross's Lymphads,
Sutherland's Wild-cats, nor the royal Lion,
Rampant in golden treasure, wins me from them.
We'll back the Boar-heads bravely. I see round
them

A chosen band of lances-some well known to me.
Where's the main body of thy followers?

SwI. Symon de Vipont, thou dost see them all
That Swinton's bugle-horn can call to battle,
However loud it rings. There's not a boy
Left in my halls, whose arm has strength enough

1 "The armorial bearings of the ancient family of Swinton are sable, a cheveron, or, between three boars' heads erased, argent. CREST-a boar chained to a tree, and above, on an escroll, J'espère. SUPPORTERS-two boars standing on a

Had bored their cuirasses! Their lives had been
Lost like their grandsire's, in the bold defence
Of their dear country-but in private feud
With the proud Gordon, fell my Long-spear'd
John,

He with the Axe, and he men call'd the Ready,
Ay, and my Fair-hair'd Will—the Gordon's wrath
Devour'd my gallant issue.

VIP. Since thou dost weep, their death is un-
avenged?

Swi. Templar, what think'st thou met-See
yonder rock,

From which the fountain gushes-is it less
Compact of adamant, though waters flow from it?
compartment, whereon are the words, Je Pense."-Douglas's
Baronage, p. 132.

2 MS.-" Of the dear land that nursed them-but in feud."

[ocr errors][ocr errors]

Firm hearts have moister eyes.

They are

avenged;
I wept not till they were-till the proud Gordon
Had with his life-blood dyed my father's sword,
In guerdon that he thinn'd my father's lineage,
And then I wept my sons; and, as the Gordon
Lay at my feet, there was a tear for him,
Which mingled with the rest.

friends,

I pray, De Vipont, you would join the Gordon
In this high battle. "Tis a noble youth,-
So fame doth vouch him,-amorous, quick, and
valiant;

Takes knighthood, too, this day, and well may use
His spurs too rashly' in the wish to win them.
A friend like thee beside him in the fight,

We had been Were worth a hundred spears to rein his valor
And temper it with prudence :-'tis the aged eagle
Teaches his brood to gaze upon the sun,

Had shared the banquet and the chase together,
Fought side by side,-and our cause of strife,
Woe to the pride of both, was but a light one!
VIP. You are at feud, then, with the mighty
Gordon?

SwI. At deadly feud. Here in this Border-
land,

Where the sire's quarrels descend upon the son,
As due a part of his inheritance,

As the strong castle and the ancient blazon,

With eye undazzled.

VIP. Alas! brave Swinton! Wouldst thou train

the hunter

That soon must bring thee to the bay? Your
custom,

Your most unchristian, savage, fiend-like custom,
Binds Gordon to avenge his father's death.

SWI. Why, be it so! I look for nothing else:
My part was acted when I slew his father,

Where private Vengeance holds the scales of jus- Avenging my four sons

tice,

Weighing each drop of blood as scrupulously
As Jews or Lombards balance silver pence,
Not in this land, 'twixt Solway and Saint Abb's,
Rages a bitterer feud than mine and theirs,
The Swinton and the Gordon.

VIP. You, with some threescore lances-and the
Gordon

Leading a thousand followers.

-Young Gordon's sword,
If it should find my heart, can ne'er inflict there
A pang so poignant as his father's did.
But I would perish by a noble hand,
And such will his be if he bear him nobly,
Nobly and wisely on this field of Halidon.

Enter a PURSUIVANT.

PUR. Sir Knights, to Council!-'tis the Regent's order,

Swi. You rate him far too low. Since you That knights and men of leading meet him in

sought Palestine,

He hath had grants of baronies and lordships
In the far-distant North. A thousand horse
His southern friends and vassals always number'd.
Add Badenoch kerne, and horse from Dey and
Spey,

He'll count a thousand more.-And now, De Vi-
pont,

If the Boar-heads seem in your eyes less worthy
For lack of followers-seck yonder standard-
The bounding Stag, with a brave host around it;
There the young Gordon makes his earliest field,
And pants to win his spurs. His father's friend,
As well as mine, thou wert-go, join his pennon,
And grace him with thy presence.

stantly

Before the royal standard. Edward's army
Is seen from the hill-summit.

Swi. Say to the Regent, we obey his orders.
[Exit PURSUIVANT.

[To REYNALD.] Hold thou my casque, and furl
my pennon up

Close to the staff. I will not show my crest,
Nor standard, till the common foe shall challenge
them.

I'll wake no civil strife, nor tempt the Gordon
With aught that's like defiance.

VIP. Will he not know your features?

Swi. He never saw me. In the distant North, Against his will, 'tis said, his friends detain'd him

VIP. When you were friends, I was the friend During his nurture-caring not, belike,

of both,

And now I can be enemy to neither;

But my poor person, though but slight the aid,
Joins on this field the banner of the two

Which hath the smallest following.

Swi. Spoke like the generous Knight, who gave up all,

Leading and lordship, in a heathen land

To fight, a Christian soldier! Yet, in earnest,

1 MS.-"Sharply."

2 MS." As we do pass," &c.

To trust a pledge so precious near the Boar-tusks.
It was a natural but needless caution:

I wage no war with children, for I think
Too deeply on mine own.

VIP. I have thought on it, and will see the
Gordon

As we go hence to council. I do bear

A cross, which binds me to be Christian priest,
As well as Christian champion. God may grant,

MS.-"The cross I wear appoints me Christian priest,
As well as Christian warrior," &c.

« AnteriorContinuar »