Oh reader? Hast thou let the midnight hour
Pass unperceiv'd, whilst thou in fancy lived
With high-born beauties and enamor'd chiefs,
Sharing their hopes, and with a breathless joy,
Whose expectation touched the verge of pain,
Following their dangerous fortunes? If such lore
Has ever thrill'd thy bosom, thou wilt tread
As with a pilgrim's reverential thoughts
The groves of Penshurst. SYDNEY here was born,
Sydney, than whom no gentler, braver man
His own delightful genius ever feign'd,
Illustrating the vales of Arcady,
With courteous courage and with loyal loves.
Upon his natal day an acorn here
Was planted; it grew up a stately oak,
And in the beauty of its strength it stood
And flourished, when his perishable part
Had mouldered dust to dust. That stately oak
Itself hath perished now, but Sydney's fame
Endureth in his own immortal works.'
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Before the extension of commerce and manufactories in Europe, the
hospitality of the rich and the great, from the sovereign down to the
smallest baron, exceeded every thing which in the present times we can
easily form a notion of. Westminster Hall was the dining-room of William
Rufus, and might frequently perhaps not be too large for his company. It
was reckoned a piece of magnificence in Thomas a Becket that he strewed
the floor of his hall with clear hay or rushes in the season, in order
that the knights and squires who could not get seats might not spoil their
fine clothes when they sat down on the floor to eat their dinner. The
great Earl of Warwick is said to have entertained every day, at his
different manors, thirty thousand people; and though the number may have
been exaggerated, it must however have been very great to admit of such
exaggeration. The personal expenses of the great proprietors having
gradually increased with the extension of commerce and manufactures, it
was impossible that the number of their retainers should not as gradually
diminish. Having sold their birth-right, not like Esau, for a mess of
pottage in time of hunger and necessity, but in the wantonness of plenty
for trinkets and baubles, fitter to be the play-things of children than
the serious pursuits of men, they became as insignificant as any
substantial burgher or tradesmen in a city.
WEALTH OF NATIONS: BOOK III., CHAP. IV.
The _planta-genista_ or broom having been ordinarily used for strewing
floors, became an emblem of humility, and was borne as such by Fulke, Earl
of Anjou, grandfather of Henry II., King of England, in his pilgrimage to
the Holy Land. The name of the royal house of Plantagenet is said to be
derived from this circumstance.
HUNT'S EXEMPLARS OF TUDOR ARCHITECTURE.
Eleven continued to be the dining hour of the nobility, down to the middle
of the seventeenth century, though it was still kept up to ten o'clock in
the Universities, where the established system is not so easily altered as
in private families. . . . The lord and his principal guests sate at the
upper end of the first table, which was therefore called the lord's
board-end. The officers of his household and inferior guests at long
tables below in the hall. In the middle of each table stood a great
salt-cellar, and as particular care was taken to place the guests
according to their rank, it became a mark of distinction whether a person
sate above or below the salt. . . . Pewter plates in the reign of Henry
VIII. were too costly to be used in common by the highest nobility. In
Rymer's Foedera is a license granted in 1430 for a ship to carry certain
commodities for the express use of the King of Scotland, among which are
particularly mentioned a supply of pewter dishes and wooden trenchers.
'_Octo duodenis vasorum de pewter, mille et ducentis ciphis ligneis._'
ARCHAEOLOGIA.
The use of forks did not prevail in England till the reign of James I.
CORYAT.
In the list of birds served up to table were many fowls which are now
discarded as little better than rank carrion, such as cranes, lapwings,
sea-gulls, bitterns, ruffs, kerlews, etc.
GROSE'S ANTIQ. REPERTORY.
The use of coaches is said to have been first introduced into England by
Fitz-Allan, earl of Arundel, A. D. 1580. Before that time ladies chiefly
rode on horseback, either single on their palfreys, or double, behind some
person on a pillion. In cases of sickness or bad weather, they had
horse-litters and vehicles called chairs, or carrs, or charres. Glazed
windows were introduced into England, A. D. 1180.
ANDERSON'S HISTORY OF COMMERCE.
The ceilings of that part of Wresill Castle left standing by the
Commonwealth's soldiers still appear richly carved, and the sides of the
rooms are ornamented with a great profusion of ancient sculpture finely
executed in wood, exhibiting the ancient bearings, crests, badges and
devices of the Percy family, in a great variety of forms, set off with all
the advantages of painting, gilding and imagery. . . . NOBLEMEN in HENRY
the Eighth's time were obliged to carry all the beds, hangings and
furniture with them when they removed. The usual manner of hanging the
rooms in the old castles was only to cover the naked walls with tapestry
or arras hung upon tenter hooks, from which they were easily taken down
upon every removal. On such an occasion the number of carts employed in a
considerable family must have formed a caravan nearly as large as those
which traverse the deserts of the East. . . . At the time of the
Northumberland House-hold book, glass, though it had perhaps been long
applied to the decorating churches, was not very commonly used in
dwelling-houses or castles.
ARCHAEOLOGIA.
Rooms provided with chimnies are noticed as a luxury by the author of
Pierce Ploughman. 'Now,' says an author still more recent, 'have we many
chimnies, and yet our tenderlings complain of rheums, catarrhs and poses,
(colds in the head.) Then had we none but _rere dosses_, (plates of iron
or a coating of brick to enable the wall to resist the flame,) and our
heads did never ache. For as the smoke in those days was supposed to be a
sufficient hardening for the timber of the house, so it was reputed a far
better medicine to keep the good man and his family from the quacke,
(ague,) or pose, wherewith, as then, very few were oft acquainted.'
HARRISON'S DESCRIPTION OF ENGLAND PREFIXED TO HOLINSHED.
IDYLL.
IN IMITATION OF THEOCRITUS, BY WILLIAM CHIDDON.
Thou wanderer where the wild wood ceaseless breathes
The sweetly-murmuring strain, from falling rills
Or soft autumnal gales; O! seek thou there
Some fountain gurgling from the rifted rock,
Of pure translucent wave, whose margent green
Is loved by gentlest nymphs, and all the train
Of that chaste goddess of the silver bow;
For silent, shady groves, by purling springs,
Delight the train, and through the gliding hours
Their nimble feet in mazy trances wind;
And oft at eve, the wondering swain hath heard
The Arcadian pipe and breathing minstrelsy,
From joyous troops of those rude deities
Whose homes are on the steep and rocky mount,
Or by the silver wave in woody dell,
And know the shrine, with flowery myrtles veiled,
All lonely placed by that wild mountain stream,
That from the sacred hills, like Hippocrene,
With warbling numbers, softly glides along.
Kneel humbly there, and at the auspicious time,
Invoke the listening spirit to my aid,
That I may fly the nymph of shapely form,
Whose fragrant brow inwoven wreaths adorn,
Of blushing rose and ivy tendrils green.
Then swear for me to deck the favoring shrine
With flowrets, blooming from the lap of Spring,
And on the sculptured pile, with solemn vow,
The tender kid devote in sacrifice.
So may my heaving bosom rest serene,
Nor winged spells incite the soul again
To love the soft eyed maid Zenophyle.
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK.
NUMBER TWO.
The course of our legendary narration now returns to notice the fortunes
of Count Julian, after his departure from Toledo, to resume his government
on the coast of Barbary. He left the Countess Frandina at Algeziras, his
paternal domain, for the province under his command was threatened with
invasion. In fact, when he arrived at Ceuta he found his post in imminent
danger from the all-conquering Moslems. The Arabs of the East, the
followers of Mahomet, having subjugated several of the most potent
oriental kingdoms, had established their seat of empire at Damascus,
where, at this time, it was filled by Waled Almanzor, surnamed 'the Sword
of God.' From thence the tide of Moslem conquest had rolled on to the
shores of the Atlantic; so that all Almagreb, or Western Africa, had
submitted to the standard of the prophet, with the exception of a portion
of Tingitania, lying along the straits; being the province held by the
Goths of Spain, and commanded by Count Julian. The Arab invaders were a
hundred thousand strong, most of them veteran troops, seasoned in warfare
and accustomed to victory. They were led by an old Arab general, Muza ben
Nosier, to whom was confided the government of Almagreb; most of which he
had himself conquered. The ambition of this veteran was to make the Moslem
conquest complete, by expelling the Christians from the African shores;
with this view his troops menaced the few remaining Gothic fortresses of
Tingitania, while he himself sat down in person before the walls of Ceuta.
The Arab chieftain had been rendered confident by continual success, and
thought nothing could resist his arms and the sacred standard of the
prophet. Impatient of the tedious delays of a siege, he led his troops
boldly against the rock-built towers of Ceuta, and attempted to take the
place by storm. The onset was fierce, and the struggle desperate: the
swarthy sons of the desert were light and vigorous, and of fiery spirits;
but the Goths, inured to danger on this frontier, retained the stubborn
valor of their race, so impaired among their brethren in Spain. They were
commanded, too, by one skilled in warfare and ambitious of renown. After a
vehement conflict, the Moslem assailants were repulsed from all points,
and driven from the walls. Don Julian sallied forth, and harassed them in
their retreat; and so severe was the carnage, that the veteran Musa was
fain to break up his camp, and retire confounded from the siege.
The victory at Ceuta resounded throughout Tingitania, and spread universal
joy. On every side were heard shouts of exultation mingled with praises of
Count Julian. He was hailed by the people, wherever he went, as their
deliverer, and blessings were invoked upon his head. The heart of Count
Julian was lifted up, and his spirit swelled within him; but it was with
noble and virtuous pride, for he was conscious of having merited the
blessings of his country.
In the midst of his exultation, and while the rejoicings of the people
were yet sounding in his ears, the page arrived who bore the letter from
his unfortunate daughter.
'What tidings from the king?' said the count, as the page knelt before
him: 'None, my lord,' replied the youth, 'but I bear a letter sent in all
haste by the Lady Florinda.'
He took the letter from his bosom and presented it to his lord. As Count
Julian read it, his countenance darkened and fell. 'This,' said he,
bitterly, 'is my reward for serving a tyrant; and these are the honors
heaped on me by my country, while fighting its battles in a foreign land.
May evil overtake me, and infamy rest upon my name, if I cease until I
have full measure of revenge.'
Count Julian was vehement in his passions, and took no counsel in his
wrath. His spirit was haughty in the extreme, but destitute of true
magnanimity, and when once wounded turned to gall and venom. A dark and
malignant hatred entered into his soul, not only against Don Roderick, but
against all Spain: he looked upon it as the scene of his disgrace, a land
in which his family was dishonored: and, in seeking to avenge the wrongs
he had suffered from his sovereign, he meditated against his native
country one of the blackest schemes of treason that ever entered into the
human heart.
The plan of Count Julian was to hurl King Roderick from his throne, and to
deliver all Spain into the hands of the infidels. In concerting and
executing this treacherous plot, it seemed as if his whole nature was
changed; every lofty and generous sentiment was stifled, and he stooped to
the meanest dissimulation. His first object was to extricate his family
from the power of the king, and to remove it from Spain before his treason
should be known; his next, to deprive the country of its remaining means
of defence against an invader.
With these dark purposes at heart, but with an open and serene
countenance, he crossed to Spain, and repaired to the court at Toledo.
Wherever he came he was hailed with acclamations as a victorious general,
and appeared in the presence of his sovereign radiant with the victory at
Ceuta. Concealing from King Roderick his knowledge of the outrage upon his
house, he professed nothing but the most devoted loyalty and affection.
The king loaded him with favors; seeking to appease his own conscience by
heaping honors upon the father in atonement of the deadly wrong inflicted
upon his child. He regarded Count Julian, also, as a man able and
experienced in warfare, and took his advice in all matters relating to the
military affairs of the kingdom. The count magnified the dangers that
threatened the frontier under his command, and prevailed upon the king to
send thither the best horses and arms remaining from the time of Witiza,
there being no need of them in the centre of Spain in its present tranquil
state. The residue, at his suggestion, was stationed on the frontiers of
Gallia; so that the kingdom was left almost wholly without defence against
any sudden irruption from the south.
Having thus artfully arranged his plans, and all things being prepared for
his return to Africa, he obtained permission to withdraw his daughter from
the court, and leave her with her mother, the Countess Frandina, who, he
pretended, lay dangerously ill at Algeziras. Count Julian issued out of
the gate of the city, followed by a shining band of chosen followers,
while beside him, on a palfrey, rode the pale and weeping Florinda. The
populace hailed and blessed him as he passed, but his heart turned from
them with loathing. As he crossed the bridge of the Tagus, he looked back
with a dark brow upon Toledo, and raised his mailed hand and shook it at
the royal palace of King Roderick, which crested the rocky height. 'A
father's curse,' said he, 'be upon thee and thine! May desolation fall
upon thy dwelling, and confusion and defeat upon thy realm!'
In his journeyings through the country, he looked round him with a
malignant eye; the pipe of the shepherd, and the song of the husbandman,
were as discord to his soul; every sight and sound of human happiness
sickened him at heart, and, in the bitterness of his spirit, he prayed
that he might see the whole scene of prosperity laid waste with fire and
sword by the invader.
The story of domestic outrage and disgrace had already been made known to
the Countess Frandina. When the hapless Florinda came in presence of her
mother, she fell on her neck, and hid her face in her bosom, and wept; but
the countess shed never a tear, for she was a woman haughty of spirit and
strong of heart. She looked her husband sternly in the face. 'Perdition
light upon thy head,' said she, 'if thou submit to this dishonor. For my
own part, woman as I am, I will assemble the followers of my house, nor
rest until rivers of blood have washed away this stain.'
'Be satisfied,' replied the count; 'vengeance is on foot, and will be sure
and ample.'
Being now in his own domains, surrounded by his relatives and friends,
Count Julian went on to complete his web of treason. In this he was aided
by his brother-in-law, Oppas, the Bishop of Seville: a man dark and
perfidious as the night, but devout in demeanor, and smoothly plausible in
council. This artful prelate had contrived to work himself into the entire
confidence of the king, and had even prevailed upon him to permit his
nephews, Evan and Siseburto, the exiled sons of Witiza, to return into
Spain. They resided in Andalusia, and were now looked to as fit
instruments in the present traitorous conspiracy.
By the advice of the bishop, Count Julian called a secret meeting of his
relatives and adherents on a wild rocky mountain, not far from Consuegra,
and which still bears the Moorish appellation of 'La Sierra de Calderin,'
or the mountain of treason. When all were assembled, Count Julian appeared
among them, accompanied by the bishop and by the Countess Frandina. Then
gathering around him those who were of his blood and kindred, he revealed
the outrage that had been offered to their house. He represented to them
that Roderick was their legitimate enemy; that he had dethroned Witiza,
their relation, and had now stained the honor of one of the most
illustrious daughters of their line. The Countess Frandina seconded his
words. She was a woman majestic in person and eloquent of tongue; and
being inspired by a mother's feelings, her speech aroused the assembled
cavaliers to fury.
The count took advantage of the excitement of the moment to unfold his
plan. The main object was to dethrone Don Roderick, and give the crown to
the sons of the late King Witiza. By this means they would visit the sins
of the tyrant upon his head, and, at the same time, restore the regal
honors to their line. For this purpose their own force would be
sufficient; but they might procure the aid of Muza ben Nosier, the Arabian
general in Mauritania, who would no doubt gladly send a part of his troops
into Spain to assist in the enterprise.
The plot thus suggested by Count Julian received the unholy sanction of
Bishop Oppas, who engaged to aid it secretly with all his influence and
means: for he had great wealth and possessions, and many retainers. The
example of the reverend prelate determined all who might otherwise have
wavered, and they bound themselves by dreadful oaths to be true to the
conspiracy. Count Julian undertook to proceed to Africa and seek the camp
of Muza, to negotiate for his aid, while the bishop was to keep about the
person of King Roderick, and lead him into the net prepared for him.
All things being thus arranged, Count Julian gathered together his
treasure, and taking his wife and daughter and all his household,
abandoned the country he meant to betray; embarking at Malaga for Ceuta.
The gate in the wall of that city, through which they went forth,
continued for ages to bear the name of _Puerta de la Cava_, or the gate of
the harlot; for such was the opprobrious and unmerited appellation
bestowed by the Moors on the unhappy Florinda.
When Count Julian had placed his family in security in Ceuta, surrounded
by soldiery devoted to his fortunes, he took with him a few confidential
followers, and departed in secret for the camp of the Arabian Emir, Muza
ben Nozier. The camp was spread out in one of those pastoral vallies which
lie at the feet of the Barbary hills, with the great range of the Atlas
mountains towering in the distance. In the motley army here assembled were
warriors of every tribe and nation, that had been united by pact or
conquest in the cause of Islem. There were those who had followed Muza
from the fertile regions of Egypt, across the deserts of Barca, and those
who had joined his standard from among the sun-burnt tribes of Mauritania.
There were Saracen and Tartar, Syrian and Copt, and swarthy Moor;
sumptuous warriors from the civilized cities of the east, and the gaunt
and predatory rovers of the desert. The greater part of the army, however,
was composed of Arabs; but differing greatly from the first rude hordes
that enlisted under the banner of Mahomet. Almost a century of continual
wars with the cultivated nations of the east had rendered them
accomplished warriors; and the occasional sojourn in luxurious countries
and populous cities, had acquainted them with the arts and habits of
civilized life. Still the roving, restless, and predatory habits of the
genuine son of Ishmael prevailed, in defiance of every change of clime or
situation.
Count Julian found the Arab conqueror Muza surrounded by somewhat of
oriental state and splendor. He was advanced in life, but of a noble
presence, and concealed his age by tinging his hair and beard with henna.
The count assumed an air of soldier-like frankness and decision when he
came into his presence. 'Hitherto,' said he, 'we have been enemies; but I
come to thee in peace, and it rests with thee to make me the most devoted
of thy friends. I have no longer country or king. Roderick the Goth is an
usurper, and my deadly foe; he has wounded my honor in the tenderest
point, and my country affords me no redress. Aid me in my vengeance, and I
will deliver all Spain into thy hands: a land far exceeding in fertility
and wealth all the vaunted regions thou hast conquered in Tingitania.'
The heart of Muza leaped with joy at these words, for he was a bold and
ambitious conqueror, and having overrun all western Africa, had often cast
a wistful eye to the mountains of Spain, as he beheld them brightening
beyond the waters of the strait. Still he possessed the caution of a
veteran, and feared to engage in an enterprise of such moment, and to
carry his arms into another division of the globe, without the approbation
of his sovereign. Having drawn from Count Julian the particulars of his
plan, and of the means he possessed to carry it into effect, he laid them
before his confidential counsellors and officers, and demanded their
opinion. 'These words of Count Julian,' said he, 'may be false and
deceitful; or he may not possess the power to fulfil his promises. The
whole may be a pretended treason to draw us on to our destruction. It is
more natural that he should be treacherous to us than to his country.'
Among the generals of Muza was a gaunt swarthy veteran, scarred with
wounds; a very Arab, whose great delight was roving and desperate
enterprise; and who cared for nothing beyond his steed, his lance, and his
scimitar. He was a native of Damascus; his name was Taric ben Zeyad; but,
from having lost an eye, he was known among the Spaniards by the
appellation of Taric el Tuerto, or Taric the one-eyed.
The hot blood of this veteran Ishmaelite was in a ferment when he heard of
a new country to invade, and vast regions to subdue; and he dreaded lest
the cautious hesitation of Muza would permit the glorious prize to escape
them. 'You speak doubtingly,' said he, 'of the words of this Christian
cavalier, but their truth is easily to be ascertained. Give me four
galleys and a handful of men, and I will depart with this Count Julian,
skirt the Christian coast, and bring thee back tidings of the land, and of
his means to put it in our power.'