While yet I gazed on Soutra's fell,
A sight appeared (I live and tell!),
Strange, ominous, and yet obscure,
But fate has wrought the vision sure;
Too soon explained, it bodes no good,
But desolation marks, and blood,
I saw at once in full career
Equestrian troops dire-armed appear,
Descending swift the mountains steep
No earthly steed could footstep keep;
Yet many hundreds were their might.
The glitt'ring stars revealed the sight--
Lightnings, forbidding to conceal,
Burst, 'midst drawn swords and helmets' steel.
On me when burst their dreadful gleam
Faint my sunk soul emits a scream;
And Walter Selby thus began--
(Walter still less, or more than man)
Shouting till every echo round
The mountain nymphs appalled resound;
"Saw ever man such gallant sight?
A thousand steeds on Soutra's height,
Its fierce descent--in martial pride
A thousand riders stem its side,
With managed pride and daring front!
What mortal force shall bide their brunt?
See how they gallop down yon rock!--
What mortal eye can bear the shock?
The roe of Soutra's lightest bound
Shrinks from the delvy deep profound,
Where not the falcon strains her flight
Above the eagled eyrey's height.
O, for a steed so sure and swift
That might me with these horsemen lift--
These airy knights! My wanton brown,
Famed far and wide for fleet renown,
That darts o'er Derwent like a bird,
Matched with such palfrey and its lord
With wonder froze, its progress slow,
Would think the Derwent ceased to flow.
Ne'er gossamer in summer race
So swift, so sylphy held the chace.
Alarm in every village dwells,
For we all know what this foretells--
A battle lost, a ruined cause.
I heard my father say there was
Then seen on dread Helvellyn's side
An armed host like this to ride:
Yet difference marked--beneath a crown
The eye of royalty there frowns;
A regal glaive, like mailed Mars,
That streams a meteor thro' the wars,
Points at their head to Marston Moor,
Soon to be drenched with British gore.
On those whose standard new unfurls,
Menace the coronets of earls;
The wode weird sisters waft each count,
And thanes ride wild at their surmount.
"Now Heav'n's right hand protect us!" cried
The dame that shares stern Wilton's pride;
(Once bride of Grey, for beauty famed,
And oft for boast of lineage named;
But now her blood, by age grown cold,
Yet tumult's in her mortal mould);
"What evils shall I yet sustain!
Portentous scene--terrific train!
What follows these?" with instant breath
The pedlar cries; "misfortune--death:
To many, misery--death, to some--
Some who are present, sure will come
Death sudden, early--"
"Cease thy croak,
Thou northern raven," Walter spoke;
"If they are phantoms, let them pass--
For men of mist what care e'er was
In constant souls; if flesh and bone,
(Such by their bearing are alone
This gallant band) as I believe,
As such I greet them and receive,
Good, gallant soldiers for our King--
For them shall then the welkin ring."
No sooner said, but seized his horn;
Around the mountain echoes borne
Resounds the bugle far and wide.
The spectred steedmen then descried
A mile's full quarter, seem'd to halt;
The youth again, with lips at fault,
Seized mad the ill-directed horn;
His hand the pedlar seized with scorn;
"Unhallowed, dare not thus deride
What heaven's all pregnant powers confide,
For man's instruction is this vision sent;"
(With that the bugle from his hand he rent);
"Young gentleman, be wise, be ruled:"
The lost musician stood in silence school'd.
The shadowy troops with sword and lance,
And martial pride elate, advance;
Within a hundred yards they seem;
Terrific now their hauberks gleam--
As dazzling more than mortal sight.
Yet 'midst my trance of wild affright,
I marked them, as along they went,
And living forms as such they meant,
I then imagined that I knew
Of many men in dreadful hue--
Death's pale discolour--doomed the ghost to yield,
Instance exact to perish in the field,
Or in cold blood to wait their doom--
The scaffold's fate--without a tomb;
Pride of the Stuart's strength, nor unallied,
In blood, that Brunswick's happier host defied;
The Maxwells, Boyds, Drummonds, and Gordons famed,
Scots, Ogilvies, Camerons, Foresters, high named!
One youth there was--for now the battle raged,
A band more powerful, vengeance nigh presaged,
A fierce assault proclaims the adverse power--
One youth there was, amidst destruction's lour,
Turned still the stream and every foe defied,
Oft raised his arm, and oft in blood 'twas dyed;
And, as his faint companions fell, he stood
Erect in arms, and drenched in hostile blood;
At last his prowess sunk--a falchion keen
Light' on his helmet, and burst the warrior's screen;
Then, as he fell, a visage too well known
Burst on my view, with death's stern front though prone,
'Twas Selby's self--his dread eidolon's form,
Like Brutus threatened in Philippi's storm.
Selby looked thunderstruck with wild amaze,
But mortal eye could not abide the gaze.
He sunk, forestalled the agonies of death,
And on the ground suspended was his breath;
His horn then sounds the melody of woe,
Some few sad notes that reach the issue's flow,
E're the seer's hand had checked his purpose bold;
Such notes the furies whilsom did unfold,
When Plato gave to Proserpine his hand,
And love stood awed, nor dared his force withstand
The tyrant's force--we wait all frenzied o'er,
And Selby yet alive, as dead, deplore.
All this was horror, but how faint the view
To what too soon all real must ensue,
Shall I relate how sunk each noble name?
Too well 'tis known in blasts of hideous fame;
In prose 'tis written, and in verse 'tis strung,
And songs funereal the dire dirge have sung.
The ruined castle, and the prostrate hall,
The exile's wand'ring, and the hero's fall;
Sons unattainted, sires suspicion haunts,
And childless sires their offspring's exit taunts;
Where such is heard in lamentation's air,
And more sunk deep in silence of despair;
Feelings of family perpetual burn,
And tears incessant fill the nation's urn.
Such was the scene ere dire Culloden's plain
The northern ravens glutted with the slain;
Nor rested then, for in the ebon car
The dire Erynnis of fell civil war
Held yoked her dark steeds from the fatal field,
A part succeeded reckless yet to yield,
With colours flying, and the pibroch's sound,
As if they scorned the violated ground,
As vengeance filled their bosoms fraught with ire,
As if they sought a respite to retire,
On adverse fortune scorned to waste their strength,
But thought calamity would reach its length;
Then, to return--but nobler thoughts evince,
Convinced by reason they salute their Prince,
Convinced, revere the majesty of laws,
Nor wreck their fortunes in a desperate cause;
'Twas thus each fought with still undaunted heart,
And each 'twas thought maintained the better part.
Now civil war has spent its savage rage,
Say, shall we now for anarchy engage?
Exhaust all purpose of heaven-granted life,
For no one purpose but the love of strife.
Rather than that, let's seek the pristine Cain,
Or rather seek with Lamech's force to reign,
Lamech, than Cain, the seven times told more curs'd,
For even Cain was not yet found the worst.
Then check this brutal rage, while yet there's power,
While yet the monster's something to devour;
While not by treason borne, to ruin hurled,
Stands in its frame the firm majestic world.
Another curious and interesting phenomenon was once observed on Souter
Fell, somewhat differing from that already described, though probably
resulting from the same combined causes. "One summer evening, in the
year 1743, the servant of Mr. Wren, of Wilton Hall, was sitting at the
door with his master, when they both saw the figure of a man with a dog,
pursuing some horses along the mountain side, a place so steep that a
horse could scarcely keep his footing upon it. These visionary forms
appeared to run at an amazing pace, till they got out of sight at the
lower end of the Fell. Mr. Wren and his servant next morning ascended
the steep mountain, expecting to find the man dead, being persuaded he
must be killed in galloping at so furious a rate; but to their surprise,
they found not a shoe, nor even any vestige whatever of man, dog, or
horse."[12] This story they sometime concealed; at length, however, they
ventured to relate it, and were (as might be expected), heartily laughed
at.
Nearly allied to this is another atmospheric phenomenon, occasionally
seen among the mountains, though of rare occurrence. It consists of an
aërial figure, depicted on a dense or misty atmosphere, not unfrequently
assuming a grotesque or highly magnified appearance. The same phenomenon
has been observed amongst the Scotch mountains. Mr. Smith, M.P. for
Norwich, witnessed it in ascending Ben Nevis. On the crown of that
mountain there is a crater-like hollow, in which was a misty vapour. In
the midst of this appeared a human figure in motion. Mr. Smith held up
his hands, and the figure did the same.[13]
This appearance is most rationally explained on the principles of
refraction and reflection, the shadowy form being no other than the
image of a reality, favourably posited with relation to the refracting
medium and the observer's eye. This man-in-the-mist was doubtless the
shadow of the real man, created by his coming between the vapour and the
sun; yet perhaps the aërial beings that have been said to people the
Highland mountains, may be traced to some such origin.
The appearance of the Spectre of the Broken, an aërial figure which is
sometimes seen amongst the Hartz mountains of Hanover, may be accounted
for in the same manner. The following is an interesting account of this
phenomenon by M. Hane:--"Having ascended the Broken Mountain," says he,
"for the thirtieth time, I was at length so fortunate as to have the
pleasure of seeing this phenomenon. The sun rose about four o'clock, and
the atmosphere being quite serene towards the east, its rays could pass
without any obstruction over the Heinrichshöhe mountain. In the
south-west, however, towards the mountain Achtermannshöhe, a brisk west
wind carried before it thin transparent vapours. About a quarter-past
four I looked round, to see whether the atmosphere would permit me to
have a free prospect to the south-west, when I observed, at a very great
distance towards the Achtermannshöhe, a human figure of a monstrous
size! A violent gust of wind having almost carried away my hat, I
clapped my hand to it: and in moving my arm towards my head, the
colossal figure did the same.
"The pleasure which I felt at this discovery can hardly be described;
for I had already walked many a weary step in the hope of seeing this
shadowy image, without being able to gratify my curiosity. I immediately
made another movement, by bending my body, and the colossal figure
before me repeated it. I was desirous of doing the same thing once more,
but my colossus had vanished. I remained in the same position, waiting
to see whether it would return; and in a few minutes it again made its
appearance on the Achtermannshöhe. I then called the landlord of the
neighbouring inn, and having both taken the position which I had taken
alone, we looked towards the Achtermannshöhe, but did not perceive
anything. We had not, however, stood long, when two such colossal
figures were formed over the above eminence, which repeated their
compliments, by bending their bodies as we did, after which they
vanished. We retained our position, kept our eyes fixed on the spot, and
in a little time the two figures again stood before us, and were joined
by a third," that of a traveller who then came up and joined the party.
"Every movement made by us these figures imitated; but with this
difference, that the phenomenon was sometimes weak and faint, sometimes
strong and well defined."[14]
[6] From Hutchinson's _History of Cumberland_, and Rev. C. C. Clarke's
_One Hundred Wonders of the World_.
[7] _Lonsdale Magazine_, vol. ii. p. 313.
[8] _Coniston Hall_, by Rev. W. GRESLEY, M.A., p. 135.
[9] Hutchinson's _History of Cumberland_, p. 420, vol. i.
[10] _Westmoreland and Cumberland Illustrated_, p. 217.
[11] _Lonsdale Magazine_, vol. ii. p. 425.
[12] Clarke's _Wonders of the World_.
[13] Wilkinson's _Tours to the British Mountains_, pp. 64, 65.
[14] Clarke's _Wonders of the World_, pp. 434, 435.