FLODDEN FIELD SIR WALTER SCOTT (From "Marmion," Canto VI) HENRY VII. had hoped to secure peace with Scotland by giving his daughter Margaret to James IV. in marriage; but the ambition of Henry VIII. led him to renew the claim to overlordship, and war broke out. At the battle of Flodden Field (1513) James IV. was killed and the Scotch army was ruined. From the sharp ridges of the hill, Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, Told England, from his mountain-throne Of sudden and portentous birth, O life and death were in the shout, And triumph and despair. Long look'd the anxious squires; their eye Could in the darkness nought descry. At length the freshening western blast And, first, the ridge of mingled spears And plumèd crests of chieftains brave, Amid the scene of tumult, high They saw Lord Marmion's falcon fly: With Huntly, and with Home. But as they left the dark'ning heath, That fought around their King. But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, The stubborn spear-men still made good Each stepping where his comrade stood, No thought was there of dastard flight; Till utter darkness closed her wing Then did their loss his foemen know; Their King, their Lords, their mightiest low, They melted from the field, as snow, When streams are swoln and south winds blow, Dissolves in silent dew. Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash, Disorder'd, through her currents dash, To gain the Scottish land; To town and tower, to down and dale, Where shiver'd was fair Scotland's spear, EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN WILLIAM EDMONDSTOUNE AYTOUN THE death of James IV. left Scotland a prey to all the dangers of a long minority. His son, James V., was hardly a twelvemonth old. When but thirty years of age he died, leaving an infant daughter, Mary Stuart, sole heir to the throne. News of battle! I news of battle! Hark! 'tis ringing down the street: News of triumph? Who should bring Tidings from our noble army, Each one bearing, as it kindled, All night long the northern streamers II News of battle! Who hath brought it? :6 Man is this a time to wait?" And the heavy gates are opened: Then a murmur long and loud, And a cry of fear and wonder Bursts from out the bending crowd. For they see in battered harness Only one hard-stricken man; And his weary steed is wounded, And his cheek is pale and wan: Spearless hangs a bloody banner In his weak and drooping handGod! can that be Randolph Murray, Captain of the city band? III Round him crush the people, crying, "Tell us all oh, tell us true! |