There dydde theie tell the merrie lovynge fage, The feerie Gendolyne yn woman rage Theie rose; ynne battle was greete Locryne =The faire Elstrida fledde from the enchafed queene. A tye of love, a dawter fayre she hanne, [daie, Vyncentewas she ycleped, butte fulle soone fate Sente deathe, to telle the dame, she was notte yn regrate. The queene Gendolyne sente a gyaunte kayghte, To slea her wheresoever she shulde be pyghte, Stepte over cytties, on meint acres lies, [lighte; gye, He thorowe warriours gratch fayre Elstrid did espie. He tore a ragged mountayne from the grounde, Harried uppe noddynge forrests to the skie, Thanne wythe a fuirie, mote the erthe astounde, To meddle ayre he lette the mountayne flie. The flying wolfynnes sente a yelleynge crie; Onne Vyncente and Sabryna felle the mount; Tolyve æternalle dyd theie eftsoones die; Thorowe the sandie grave boiled up the pourple founte, On a broad grassie playne was layde the hylle, Staieynge the rounynge course of meint a limmed rylle. The goddes, who kenned the actyons of the wyghte, To leggen the sadde happe of twayne so fayre, Houton dyd make the mountaine bie theire mighte. Forth from Sabryna ran a ryverre cleere, The bawsyn gyaunt, hee who dyd them slee, He felle an hepe of ashes on the playne: Stylle does hys ashes shoote ynto the lyghte, A wondrous mountayne hie, and Snowdon ys ytte hyghte. AN EXCELENTE BALADE OF CHARITIE. AS WROTEN BIE THE GODE PRIESTE THOMAS ROWLEIE'. 1464. [This poem is printed from a single sheet in Chatterton's hand-writing, communicated by Mr. Barrett, who received it from Chatterton.] IN Virgyne the sweltrie Sun gan sheene, And hotte upon the mees did caste his raie; The apple rodded from its palie greene, And the mole peare did bende the leafy spraie; The peede chelandri sunge the lyvelong daie; "Twas nowe the pryde, the manhode of the ycare, And eke the grounde was dighte in its mose defte aumere.. The Sun was glemeing in the midde of daie, Beneathe an holme, faste by a pathwaie side, Look in his glommed 4 face, his sprighte there Thomas Rowley, the author, was born at Norton Mal-reward, in Somersetshire, educated at the convent of St. Kenna, at Keynesham, and died at Westbury in Gloucestershire. It would have been Seyncte Godwine's Covent. charitable, if the author had not pointed at personal characters in this Ballad of Charity. The Abbott of St. Godwin's at the time of the writing of this was Ralph de Bellomont, a great stickler for the Lancastrian family. Rowley was a Yorkist. 3 Unauthorized, and contrary to analogy. 4 Glommed, clouded, dejected. A person of some note in the literary world is of opinion, that glum and glom are modern cant words; and from this circumstance doubts the authenticity of Rowley's Manuscripts. Glummong in the Saxon signifies twilight, a dark or dubious light; and the modern word gloomy is derived from the Saxon glum. The gatherd storme is rype; the bigge drops The forswat meadowes smethe, and drenche the Cheves slowlie on, and then embollen clangs, Spurreynge his palfrie oere the watrie plaine, came; His chapournette was drented with the reine, And his pencte gyrdle met with mickle shame; He aynewarde told his bederoll at the same; The storme encreasen, and he drew aside, bide. With the mist almes craver neere to the holme to His cope was all of Lyncolne clothe so fyne, With a gold button fasten'd neere his chynne; His autremete was edged with golden twynne, And his shoonepyke atoverds might have biane; Full well it shewn he thoughten corte no sinne: The trammels of the palfrye pleasde his sighte, For the horse-millanare 8 his head with roses digute. 5 Gallied is still used in this sense in the country around Bristol. 6 Chapournette, a small round bat, not unlike the shapounette in heraldry, formerly worn by ecclesiastics and lawyers. He aynewarde tolde his lederoll, he told his beads backwards; a figurative expression to signify cursing. 8 Horse-millanare, I believe this trade is still in being, though but seldom employed. An almes, sir prieste! the droppynge pilgrim O! let me waite within your covente dore, Varlet, replyd the Abbatte, cease your dinne; None touch mie rynge who not in honour live. And shettynge on the groumde his glairie raie, The Abbatte spurrde his steede, and eftsoones roadde awaie. Once moe the skie was blacke, the thounder rolde; Faste reyneynge oer the plaine a prieste was seen; Ne dighte full proude, ne buttoned up in golde; His cope and jape were graie, and eke were A Limitoure he was of order seene; [clene; And from the pathwaie side then turned hee, Where the pore aimer laie binethe the holmen tree. An almes, sir priest! the droppynge pilgrim For sweete seyncte Marie and your order sake. But ah! unhailie pilgrim, lerne of me, He left the pilgrim, and his waie aborde. BATTLE OF HASTINGS. [In printing the first of these poems two copies have been made use of, both taken from copics of Chatterton's handwriting, the one by Mr.Cat Mr. Steevens has left a curious note upon this word. "One morning, while Mr. Tyrwhitt and I were at Bristol, in 1776, we had not proceeded far from our lodging, before he found he had left on his table a memorandum book which it was neces sary he should have about him. He therefore retorned to fetch it, while I stood still in the very place we parted at, looking on the objects about nie. By this spot, as I was subsequently assured, the young Chatterton would naturally pass to the charity school on St. Augustine's-Back, where he was educated. But whether this circumstance be correctly stated or not, is immaterial to the general tendency of the following remark. On the spot however where I was standing, our retentive observer had picked up an idea which afterwards found its way into his Excelente Balade of Charitie, as wroten bie the gode prieste Thomas Row-stands) a wooden borse dressed out with ribbons, leie. 1464. For the horse-millanare his head with roses dighte. The considerate reader must obviously have stared on being informed that such a term and such a trade had been extant in 1464; but his wonder would have ceased, had he been convinced as I am, that, in a public part of Bristol, full in sight of every passer by, was a Sadier's shop, over which was inscribed A or B (no matter which) HorseMilliner. On the outside of one of the windows of the same operator, stood (and I suppose yet to explain the nature of horse-millinery. We have here, perhaps, the history of this modern image, which was impressed by Chatterton into his description of an Abbote of Seyncte Godwynes Con vente." 9 Jape, a short surplice, worn by friars of an inferior class, and secular priests, cott, and the other by Mr. Barrett. The princi- | pal difference between them is at the end, where the latter has fourteen lines from ver. 550, which are wanting in the former. The second poem is printed from a single copy, made by Mr. Barrett from one in Chatterton's hand-writing. It should be observed, that the poem marked No. 1, was given to Mr. Barrett by Chatterton with the following title: "Battle of Hastings, wrote by Turgot the Monk, a Saxon, in the tenth century, and translated by Thomas Rowlie, parish preeste of St. John's in the city of Bristol, in the year 1465.-The remainder of the poem I have not been happy enough to meet with." Being afterwards prest by Mr. Barrett to produce any part of this poem in the original hand-writing, he at last said that he wrote this poem himself for a friend; but that he had another, the copy of an original by Rowley: and being then desired to produce that other poem, he, after a considerable interval of time, brought to Mr. Barrett the poem marked No. 2, as far as ver. 530 incl. with the following title; "Battle of Hastyngs by Turgotus, translated by Roulie for W. Canynge Esq." The lines from ver. 531 incl. were brought some time after, in consequence of Mr. Barrett's repeated solicitations for the conclusion of the poem.] (No. 1.) [bloude, O CHRYSTE, it is a grief for me to telle, And of his knyghtes did eke full manie die, Go, do the weaklie womman inn mann's geare, Soone as the erlie maten belle was tolde, Soe lacked Harroldes menne to come to blowes, My merrie menne, be bravelie everiche; And brave kyng Harrolde had nowe donde his saie; O Affem, son of Cuthbert, holie sayncte, payne; Take up thy pencyl, all his features paincte; O! in duke Wyllyam's harte it raysde a flame, With thilk a force it dyd his boddie gore, Was smeerd all over withe the gorie duste, 1 One commentator supposes that this means the path of the arrow, from the Saxon lade, iter. profectiv. Dean Milles, that it may mean an arrow headed with lead, or that it is mispelled for arrow-hede. Either of these latter conjectures is probable. And on hym laie the recer's lukewarme corse, The standyng Normans drew theyr bowe The Normans kept aloofe, at distaunce stylle, The Englysh nete but short horse-spears could welde; The Englysh manie dethe-sure dartes did kille, The Normans stode aloofe, uor hede the same, Their arrowes woulde do dethe, tho' from far of they came. Duke Wyllyam drewe agen hys arrowe strynge, At this brave Tosslyn threwe his short horse speare; Duke Wyllyam stooped to avoyde the blowe; The yrone weapon hummed in his eare, And hitte sir Doullie Naibor on the prowe: Upon his helme soe furious was the stroke, It splete his beaver, and the ryvets broke. Downe fell the beaver by Tosslyn splete in tweine, And onn his hede expos'd a punie wounde, But on Destoutvilles sholder came ameine, And fell'd the champyon to the bloudie grounde. Then Doullie myghte his bowestrynge drewe, Enthoughte to gyve brave Tosslyn bloudie wounde, But Harolde's assenglave 3 stopp'd it as it flewe, And it fell bootless on the bloudie grounde. Siere Doullie, when he sawe hys venge thus broke, Death-doynge blade from out the scabard toke. And nowe the battail closde on everych syde, And face to face appeard the knyghtes full brave; They lifted up theire bylles with myckle pryde, And manie woundes unto the Normans gave. So have I sene two weirs at once give grounde, White fomyng hygh to rorynge combat runne; In roaryng dyn and heaven-breaking sounde, Burste waves on waves, and spangle in the sunne; And when theirmyghte in burstynge waves is fled, Like cowards, stele alonge theire ozy bede. Yonge Egelrede, a knyghte of comelie mein, Affynd unto the kynge of Dynefarre, At echone tylte and tourney he was seene, And lov'd to be amonge the bloudie warre; He couch'd hys launce, and ran wyth mickle Ageinste the brest of sieur de Bonoboe; [myghte He grond and sunken on the place of fyghte, O Chryste! to fele hys wounde, hys harte was woe. Ten thousand thoughtes push'd in upon his mynde, Not for hymselfe, but those he left behynde. 2 Mr. Bryant and Mr. Tyrwhitt agree that this word has been put by a mistake of Chatterton's for ajuste. 3 This word is not known; it occurs again in this poem, 1. 423. Chatteron has used it in The Unknown Knight. He dy'd and leffed wyfe and chyldren tweine, Hewonne the tylte, and ware her crymson glove; He'de rather bee a bryer than an oke. Then Egelred dyd in a declynie Hys launce uprere with all hys myghte ameine, That he the sleeve unravels all theire fate, And broken onn the beech thys lesson speak, Howel ap Jevah came from Matraval, 4 The author of the Examination, printed st Sherborne, remarks thus upon this passage. Howe is called in the above lines" yeoman of the body guard." Now that office was unknown in the days of Turgot, and did not subsist even in 1465, at which time the poem is said to have been translated. King Henry 7 was the first that set up the band of pensioners. The yeomen of the guard were instituted afterwards, And strooke de Tracie thilk a crewel wounde, The grey-goose pynion, that thereon was sett, And like a useless weede amonge the haie Kynge Harolde then he putt his yeomen bie, The reste of erlies, fyghtynge other wheres, speres. As when some ryver with the season raynes So was the hope of all the issue gone, His distant sonne, sire Romara di Biere, And now an arrowe from a bowe unwote Have been the pride and glorie of the pleine; Base trecherous Normannes, if such acts you And in the middle shed the victyms bloude; De Aubignee rod fercely thro' the fyghte, To where the boddie of Salnarville laie; Quod he; And art thou ded, thou manne of myghte? I'll be revenged, or die for thee this daie. Die then thou shalt, erle Ethelward he said; I am a cunnynge erle, and that can tell; Then drewe hys swerde, and ghastlie cut hys hede, 6 Mr. Warton argues that this opinion concernAnd on his freend eftsoons he lifeless fell, [fend, Stretch'd on the bloudie pleyne; great God fore-ing Stonehenge did not exist in the days of Turgot. "The construction of this stupendous pile by the Druids, as a place of worship, was a discovery reserved for the sagacity of a wiser age, and the laborious discussion of modern antiquaries." Dean Milles controverts this in a long note without effect. It only appears that he and the poet, with the same ignorance, confound the Celtic and Teutonic divinities. It be the fate of no such trusty freende! 5The grey goose wing that was thereon |