Provokes him still to fight: and falling back where they [display, Might field-roomth find at large, their ensigns to Together flew again; that Brentford, with the blood [stood. Of Daues and English mix'd, discolour'd long time Yet Edmond, as before, went victor still away. "When soon that valiant Knute, whom nothing could dismay, Recall'd his scatter'd troops, and into Essex hies, Where (as ill fortune would) the Dane with fresh supplies [makes; Was lately come a-land, to whom brave Ironside But Knute to him again as soon fresh courage taks: And Fortune (as her self) determining to show That she could bring an ebb on valiant Edmond's flow, [chance, And easily cast him down from off the top of By turning of her wheel, Canutus doth advance. Where she beheld that prince which she bad favour'd long [among (Even in her proud despite) his murther'd troops With sweat and blood besmear'd (dukes, earls and bishops slain, [Dane) In that most dreadful day, when all went to the Through worlds of dangers wade; and with his sword and shield, Such wonders there to act, as made her in the field Ashamed of herself, so brave a spirit as he [be. By her unconstant band should so much wronged "But, having lost the day, to Glocester he draws, To raise a second power in his slain soldiers' cause. When late-encourag'd Knute, whilst fortune yet doth last, [fast. Who oft from Ironside fled, now follow'd him as "Whilst thus in civil arms continually they toil, And what th' one strives to make, the other seeks to spoil, [noxious hands With threat'ning swords still drawn; and with ob. Attending their revenge, whilst either enemy stands, One man amongst the rest from this confusion breaks, And to the ireful kings with courage boldly speaks; "Yet cannot all this blood your ravenous outrage fill? Is there no law, no bound, to your ambitious will, But what your swords admit? as nature did ordain Our lives for nothing else, but only to maintain Your murthers, sack, and spoil? If by this wasteful That with refulgent arms then flamed; whilst the kings, [springs, Whose rage out of the hate of either's empire Both armed cap a-pie, upon their barred horse Together fiercely flew; that in their violent course (Like thunder when it speaks most horribly and loud, [cloud) Tearing the full-stuft paunch of some congealed Their strong hoofs strook the earth: and with the fearful shock, [unlock. Their spears in splinters flew, their beavers both "Canutus, of the two that farthest was from hope, [cope, Who found with what a foe his fortune was to Cries, Noble Edmond, hold; let us the land divide.' [side Here th' English and the Danes, from either equal Were echoes to his words, and all aloud do cry, 'Courageous kings, divide; 'twere pity such should die.'" [to suppress When now the neighbouring floods will'd Wrekin His style, or they were like to surfeit with excess. And time had brought about, that now they all began To listen to a long told prophecy, which ran [see Of Moreland, that she might live prosperously to A river born of her, who well might reckon'd be The third of this large isle which saw did first arise From Arden, in those days delivering prophecies. The Druids (as some say) by her instructed were. In many secret skills she had been conn'd her lere. The ledden of the birds most perfectly she knew; And also from their flight strange auguries she drew; The eld'st of which is Cank: though Needwood her In excellence of soil, by being richly plac'd 'Twixt Trent and batt'ning Dove; and equally embrac'd By their abounding banks, participates their store; Of Britain's forests all (from th' less unto the more) For fineness of her turf surpassing; and doth bear Upon her shaggy heaths, the passenger amaz'd those and these Are by vile gain devour'd: so abject are our days! She now, unlike herself, a neat-herd's life doth live, And her dejected mind to country cares doth give. But Muse, thou seem'st to leave the Morelands | With many other floods (as, Churnet, in his train too too long; [among). That draweth Dunsmore on, with Yendon, then Of whom report may speak (our mighty wastes clear Tain, [would be. She from her chilly site, as from her barren feed, That comes alone to Dove) of which, Hanse one For body, horn, and hair, as fair a beast doth And for himself he fain of Manyfold would free breed (Thinking this amorous nymph by some means to beguile) As scarcely this great isle can equal: then of her, Why should'st thou all this while the prophecy defer? [grew, Who bearing many springs, which pretty rivers She could not be content, until she fully knew Which child it was of hers (born under such a fate) As should in time be rais'd unto that high estate. (I fain would have you think, that this was long ago, When many a river, now that furiously doth flow, Had scarcely learn'd to creep) and therefore she doth will Wise Arden, from the depth of her abundant skill, To tell her which of these her rills it was she meant. To satisfy her will, the wizard answers; "Trent.” For, as a skilful seer, the aged forest wist, A more than usual power did in that name consist, Which thirty doth import; by which she thus divin'd, There should be found in her, of fishes thirty kind; And thirty abbeys great, in places fat and rank, Should in succeeding time be builded on her bank; And thirty several streams from many a sundry way, Unto her greatness should their wat❜ry tribute pay. This Moreland greatly lik'd: yet in that tender love, Which she had ever born unto her darling Dove, She could have wish'd it his: because the dainty grass That grows upon his bank, all other doth surpass. But, subject he must be: as Sow, which from her The noble owners now of which beloved place, Good fortunes them and theirs with honour'd titles grace: [you see May Heaven still bless that house, till happy floods Yourselves more grac'd by it, than it by you can be. Whose bounty, still my Muse so freely shall confess, As when she shall want words, her signs shall it [sovereign Trent: So Blyth bears eas'ly down tow'rds her dear But nothing in the world gives Moreland such content, express. ways, As her own darling Dove his confluence to behold Of floods in sundry strains: as, crankling Manyfold, The first that lends him force: of whose meandred [strays) And labyrinth-like turns (as in the moors she She first receiv'd her name, by growing strangely mad, [lad, O'ergone with love of Hanse, a dapper Moreland Who near their crystal springs as in those wastes they play'd, Bewitch'd the wanton heart of that delicious maid: Which instantly was turn'd so much from being coy, [boy. That she might seem to doat upon the moorish Who closely stole away (perceiving her intent) With his dear lord the Dove, in quest of princely Trent, He closely under earth conveys his head a while. But, when the river fears some policy of his, And her beloved Hanse immediately doth miss, Distracted in her course, improvidently rash, She oft against the cleefs her crystal front doth dash: [to bear; Now forward, then again she backward seems As, like to lose herself by straggling here and [of her sight, there. Hanse, that this while suppos'd him quite out No sooner thrusts his head into the cheerful light, But Manyfold that still the run-away doth watch, Him (ere he was aware) about the neck doth catch: And, as the angry Hanse would fain her hold re[Dove. move, TAKING her progress into the land, the Muse comes southward from Cheshire into adjoining Stafford, and that part of Shropshire which lies in the English side east from Severn. And into lesser streams the spacious current cut. In that raging devastation over this kingdom by the Danes, they had gotten divers of their ships fraught with provision out of Thames into the river Ley (which divides Middlesex and Essex) sone twenty miles from London; Alfred holding his tents near that territory, especially to prevent their spoil of the instant harvest, observed that by dividing the river, then navigable between them and Thames, their ships would be grounded, and themselves bereft of what confidence their navy had promised them. He thought it, and did it, by parting the water into three channels. The Danes betook themselves to flight, their ships left as a prey to the Londoners. Her lord's embraces vow'd she never more would know. This Alured left his son Edward successor, and, among other children, this Elfled, or Ethelfled his danghter, married to Ethelred earl of Mercland. Of Alfred's worth and troublous reign, because here the author leaves him, I offer you these of an ancient English wit: obtaining of lustful sensuality, as stories will tell you, in that of earl Ethelwald, the nun Wulfrith, and the young lass of Andover) called Egelfled, surnamed Ened, daughter to Odmer, a great nobleman, Edward; and by queen Elfrith, daughter to Orgar earl of Devonshire, Ethelreds, of sme seven years' age at his death. That Egelfleu was a profest nun (d), some have argued, and so make Ethelred the only legitimate heir to the crown: ried to any of the ladies on whom he got children. nor do I think that, except Alfrith, he was mar Nobilitas innata tibi probitatis honorem Armipotens Alfrede dedit, probitasque laborem Perpetuumque labor nomen. Cui mixta dolori Gaudia semper erant, spes semper mixta timori. Si modo victor eras, ad crastina bella pavebas: Si modo victus eras, ad crastina bella parabas. Cui vestes sudore jugi, cui sicca cruore Tincta jugi, quantum sit onus regnare probarunt. Huntingdon cites these as his own; and if he deal plainly with us (I doubted it because his MS. epigrams, which make in some copies the eleventh and twelfth of his history, are of most different that use of anointing among the Saxon princes, Edward was anointed king (for in those days was strain, and seem made when Apollo was either and began in king Alfred) but not without dislikangry, or had not leisure to overlook them) being grudges of his stepmother's faction, which had shows his Muse (as also in another written by nevertheless in substance, what his vain name him upon Edgar, beginning Auctor opum, vindex scelerum, largitor honorum, &c. in that still de-only of king pretended: but her bloody hate, bred clining time of learning's state, worthy of much of sovereignty, not thus satisfied, compelled in out of womanish ambition, straining to every point precedence. Of Ethelfled, in William of Malmes-her this cruelty. King Edward, not suspecting bury, is the Latin of this English: "She was the love of the subject, fear of the enemy, a woman of a mighty heart; having once endured the grievous pains of child-birth, ever afterward denied her husband those sweeter desires; protesting, that yielding indulgence towards a pleasure, having so much consequent pain, was unseemly in a king's daughter." She was buried at saint Peter's in Gloucester; her name loaden by monks with numbers of her excellencies. For Constantine their king, an hostage hither brought. After he had taken Wales and Scotland (as our historians say) from Howel, Malmesbury calls him Ludwal, and Constantine; he restored presently their kingdoms, affirming, that it was more for his majesty to make a king than be one. The Scotish stories (a) are not agreeing here with ours; against whom Buchanan storms, for affirming what I see not how he is so well able to confute, as they to justify. And for matter of that nature, I rather send you to the collections in Edward the First, by Thomas of Walsingham, and thence for the same and other to Edward Hall's Henry VIII (6). A Neptune, whose proud sails the British ocean swept. That flower and delight of the English world, in whose birth-time Saint Dunstan (as is said) at Glastenbury, heard this angelical voice; To holy church and to the Lord pays is ybore and blis By thulke child's time, that nouthe ybore is. (among his other innumerable benefits, and royal cares) had a navy of 3600 sail (e); which by tripartite division in the east, west, and northern coasts, both defended what was subject to pirates' rapine, and so made strong his own nation against the enemies' invasion. By civil stepdame's hate to death was lastly done. Edgar had by one woman (his greatest stains showed themselves in this variety and unlawful (a) Hector Boeth. lib. 11. & Buchanan. her dissembled purposes, with simple kindness of Isle, in Dorsetshire, without guard or attendance, an open nature, wearied after the chase in Purbeck visits her at Corfe Castle; she under sweet words and saluting kisses, palliating her hellish design, entertains him: but while he being very hot and pledging her, she, or one of her appointed serthirsty (without imagination of treason) was in vants (e), stabbed the innocent king. His corpse, within a little space expiring its last breath, was buried at Wareham, thence afterward by Alfer, carl of Mercland, translated into Shaftsbury, which (as to the second song I note) was hereby for a time called Saint Edward's (f). Thus did his brother-in-law Ethelred (according to wicked Elfrith's cruel and traitorous project) succeed him. ' As, of Constantine Copronymus, the Greeks, so of this Ethelred is affirmed, that, in his holy tincture, he abused the font with natural excrements, which made Saint Dunstan, then christening him, angerly exclaim, Per Deum & Matrem ejus, ignavus homo erit. Some ten years of age was he, when his brother Edward was slain, and, out of childish affection, wept for him bitterly; which his mother extremely disliking, being author of the murther only for his sake, most cruelly beat him herself with a handful of wax (g). Candlen long and towe Heo (h) ne bileved noght ar he lay at hir vet yswowe (¿): [be was War thoru this child afterward such hey mon as Was the worse wan he ysey (k) candlen vor this cas. by all means of penitence and satisfaction (as the doctrine then directed) endeavoured her freedom out of this horrible offence. And in one night the throats of all the Danish cut. History, not this place, must inform the reader of more particulars of the Danes; and let him see to the first song. But for this slaughter, I thus ease his inquisition. Ethelred (after multitudes of miseries, long continued through their exactions and devastations, being so large, that sixteen shires had endured their cruel and even conquering spoils) in the twenty-third year of his reign, strengthened with provoking hopes, grounded on alliance, which, by marriage with Emma, daughter of Richard I. duke of Normandy, he had with his neighbour potentate, sent privy letters into every place of note, where the Danes by truce peaceably resided, to the English, commanding them, all as one, on the self-same day and hour appointed (the day was sajnt Brictius, that is, the thirteenth of November) suddenly to put them, as respective occasion best fitted, to fire or sword; which was performed. ▲ CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER AND DESCENT OF THE KINGS HERE INCLUDED IN WREKIN'S SONG. Year of Christ. 800. 836. 860. 866. 871. 901. 924. Egbert, son to Inegild (others call death. Ethelred, third son of Ethelulph. Edward the First, surnamed in (m) See to the last song before. Because in Westsex all the rest were at last confounded. These are most commonly written kings of Westsex, although in seigniory (as it were) or, as the civilians call it, direct property, all the other <ovinces (except some northern, and what the PDanes unjustly possest) were theirs. .940. 946. 955. 959. 975. 979. 1016. dreamed (you remember that of Olympias, as many such like) that out of her womb did shine a moon, enlightening all England, which in her birth (Athelstan) proved true. Edmund the First, son of Edward Edred, brother to Edmund. Ethelred the Second, son to Ed- Between him and Cnut (or Canutus) the Dane, son to Swane, was that intended single combat ; so by their own particular fortunes to end the miseries, which the English soil bore recorded in very great characters, written with streams of her children's blood, It properly here breaks off: for the composition being, that Edmund should have his part Westsex, Estsex, Estangle, Middlesex, Surrey, Kent, and Sussex, and the Dane (who durst not fight it out, but first moved for a treaty) Mercland and the northern territories. Edmund died the same year (some report was, that traitorous Edric Streona, earl of Mercland, poisoned him) leaving sons Edmund and Edward: but they were, by Danish ambition, and traitorous perjury of the unnatural English state, disinherited, and all the kingdom cast under Cnut. After him reigned his son Harold I. Lightfoot, a shoemaker's son (0) (but dissembled, as begotten by him on his queen Alfgive :) then, with Harold, Hardenut, whom he had by his wife Emma, king Ethelred's dowager. So that from Edmund, of Saxon blood (to whose glory Wrekin hath dedicated his endeavour; and therefore should transcend his purpose, if he exceeded their empire) until Edward the Confessor, following Hardenut, son to Ethelred, by the same queen Emma, the kingdom continued under Danish princes. POLY-OLBION. THE THIRTEENTH SONG. THE ARGUMENT. This song our shire of Warwick sounds; (n) Malè enim & ineptè Veremundi s quax Hector ille Boeth. lib. 11. qui Ed. & Edredum Ethelstano scribit prognatos. (0) Marian, Scot. & Florent. Wigorn. She huntress-like the hart pursues ; At such time as the year brings on the pleasant spring, [sing: But hunts up to the morn the feath'red sylvans And in the lower grove, as on the rising knole, Upon the highest spray of every mounting pole, Those quiristers are perch'd with many a speckled breast. [east Then from her burnish'd gate the goodly glitt'ring Gilds every lofty top, which late the humorous UPON the midlands now th' industrious Muse doth Bespangled had with pearl, to please the morning's night [sight: fall; [may call, On which the mirthful quires, with their clear That shire which we the heart' of England well open throats, As she herself extends (the midst which is decreed) Unto the joyful morn so strain their warbling [notes, Betwixt Saint Michael's mount, and Barwick-That hills and vallies ring, and even the echoing Seems all compos'd of sounds, about them every [where, The throstel, with shrill sharps; as purposely he song bord'ring Tweed, [bear2, Brave Warwick; that abroad so long advanc'd her §. By her illustrious earls renowned every where; Above her neigbouring shires which always bore her head. [hast bred, My native country then, which so brave spirits If there be virtue yet remaining in thy earth, Or any good of thine thou bred'st into my birth, Accept it as thine own, whilst now I sing of thee; Of all thy later brood th' unworthiest though I be. Muse, first of Arden tell', whose footsteps yet [ground, In her rough woodlands more than any other §. That mighty Arden held even in her height of pride; [side. Her one hand touching Trent, the other Severn's The very sound of these, the wood-nymphs doth are found awake: When thus of her own self the ancient forest spake: "My many goodly sites when first I came to show, Here open'd I the way to mine own overthrow: For when the world found out the fitness of my soil, The gripple wretch began immediately to spoil My tall and goodly woods, and did my grounds enclose: By which, in little time my bounds I came to lose, "When Britain first her fields with villages had fill'd, [build, Her people wexing still, and wanting where to They oft dislodg'd the hart, and set their houses, where [his leyre. He in the broom and brakes had long time made Of all the forests here within this mighty isle, If those old Britons then me sovereign did instile, I needs must be the great'st; for greatness 'tis alone [many a one 'That gives our kind the place: else were there For pleasantness of shade that far doth ine excel. But of our forest's kind the quality to tell, We equally partake with woodland as with plain, Alike with hill and dale; and every day maintain The sundry kinds of beasts upon our copious wastes, [chase." That men for profit breed, as well as those of Here Arden of herself ceas'd any more to show; And with her sylvan joys the Muse along doth go. When Phoebus lifts his head out of the winter's wave, No sooner doth the Earth her flowery bosom brave, Warwickshire is the middle shire of England. 2 The ancient coat of that earldom. *Divers towns expressing her naine; as Henly in Arden, Hampton in Arden, &c. air Tawake the lustless Sun; or chiding, that so long He was in coming forth, that should the thickets thrill: be The woosel near at hand, that hath a golden bill; As nature him had mark'd of purpose, t' let us see That from all other birds his tunes should different For, with their vocal sounds, they sing to pleasant [May; Upon his dulcet pipe, the merle doth only play When in the lower brake, the nightingale hard-by, In such lamenting strains the joyful hours doth ply, As though the other birds she to her tunes would [draw. And, but that nature (by her all-constraining law) Each bird to her own kind this season doth invite, They else alone to hear that charmer of the night, (The more to use their ears) their voices sure would spare, That moduleth her tunes so admirably rare, As man to set in parts at first had learn'd of her. To Philomel the next, the linnet we prefer; And by that warbling bird, the wood-lark place we then, The red-sparrow, the nope, the red-breast, and the [wren, The yellow-pate: which though she hurt the blooming tree, Yet scarce hath any bird a finer pipe than she. And of these chanting fowls, the goldfinch not behind, [kind. That hath so many sorts descending from her The tydy for her notes as delicate as they, The laughing hecco, then the counterfeiting jay, The softer with the shrill some hid among the leaves, run, Some in the taller trees, some in the lower greaves) there; Of all birds, only the black-bird whistleth |