The Pageant Of British History - free ebook by Edward Parrott

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The Pageant Of British History

Edward Parrott

48 chapters

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48 chapters

THE PHŒNICIANS.

THE PHŒNICIANS.

“ The bond of commerce was designed To associate all the branches of mankind; And if a boundless plenty be the robe, Trade is the golden girdle of the globe. ” T HE procession advances. Who, you ask, are these swarthy, Jewish-looking men leading the way? They are Phœnicians, the first visitors from civilized shores to our island. These restless wanderers are keen traders, who have sped their barks from distant Tyre or Carthage in quest of merchandise. One of them, urging his ship northward towar

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THE ANCIENT BRITONS.

THE ANCIENT BRITONS.

“ Where the maned bison and the wolf did roam, The ancient Briton reared his wattled home; Paddled his coracle across the mere; In the dim forest chased the antlered deer; Pastured his herds within the open glade; Played with his ‘young barbarians’ in the shade; And when the new moon o’er the high hills broke, Worshipped his heathen gods beneath the sacred oak. ” Played with his ‘young barbarians’ in the shade; And when the new moon o’er the high hills broke, Worshipped his heathen gods beneath

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THE COMING OF CÆSAR.

THE COMING OF CÆSAR.

“ The foremost man of all the world. ” A king amongst men now draws near. As he strides by, a proud and majestic figure, you know that you are in the presence of one of the world’s greatest men. He bears himself like a conqueror, yet he is far more than a mere victorious general. Scholar, statesman, writer, orator, and architect, he is the “noblest Roman of them all.” Look at his stern, powerful face, his eagle-like nose, his thin, firm-set lips, his lofty brow, and his massive head crowned with

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CARACTACUS.

CARACTACUS.

“ What though the field be lost? All is not lost. ” T HE real conqueror of Britain now approaches. We know that British “kings” in distress more than once appealed to Augustus, and that he seriously thought of invading the island. The real conqueror, however, was the Emperor Claudius, who in 43 A.D. sent an army under a trusted leader. On the road to Britain the troops mutinied. Where Cæsar had failed, how could they hope to succeed? Besides, the Britons were now united under Caractacu

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A WARRIOR QUEEN.

A WARRIOR QUEEN.

“ Me they seized and me they tortured, me they lashed and humiliated; Me the sport of ribald veterans, mine of ruffian violators. ” Now move we on. Roman arms triumph in the field, but there is no peace in the land while the Druids, amidst the shadowy groves of Mona (Anglesea), cease not to stir the Britons to “mutiny and rage.” Suetonius Paulinus determines to extirpate them root and branch. He marches to the shores of Menai Strait, and at nightfall his men essay to cross in flat-bottomed boats

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THE IRON HAND.

THE IRON HAND.

“ Rome was the whole world, and all the world was Rome. ” The next figure in our pageant to attract attention is again a Roman, but a man cast in a very different mould from the harsh and tyrannical Suetonius. In distant Rome the emperor has taken to heart the moral of the terrible rising led by Boadicea. He now knows that the Britons will never yield to severity. Consequently Agricola, the new governor, is a firm, just man, who strives by every means in his power to make the Roman yoke press as

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KING ARTHUR AND THE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE.

KING ARTHUR AND THE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE.

“ In twelve great battles overcame The heathen hordes, and made a realm and reigned. ” T HE light burns low on our pageant, and the scene grows dim and confused; yet we know only too well that a desperate struggle is going on. The battle-cries of warriors and the shrieks of the wounded are ever in our ears. The glare of blazing roof-trees lights up for a moment the ghastly scene, and reveals the pitiless work of slaughter. As it flickers out all is gloom and silence; it is the on

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ETHELBERT AND BERTHA.

ETHELBERT AND BERTHA.

“ Our clock strikes when there is a change from hour to hour; but no hammer in the Horologe of Time peals through the Universe when there is a change from Era to Era. ” Hand in hand a king and queen pass by, linked in wedded love and in undying fame. She is a sweet Frankish princess, with the light of tender affection in her eye, and the sweet serenity of an uplifting faith on her brow. He is a tall, bearded Saxon, with the martial air of one who has fought battles from his youth up; yet withal

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THE SINGER OF THE FIRST ENGLISH SONG.

THE SINGER OF THE FIRST ENGLISH SONG.

“ Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken. ” Who comes hither? A simple, shy monk, half-withdrawing from the gaze of the bystanders, and unwitting that it is he whom men greet with such resounding acclaim. Kings and knights have flaunted their plumed helms and storied banners before us; but here is a conqueror in the realm of peace, a paladin of the mind and heart. His home was in the abbey which royal Hilda had founded on the wind-swept east cliff of Whit

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THE COMING OF THE SEA-KINGS.

THE COMING OF THE SEA-KINGS.

“ What sea-worn barks are those which throw The light spray from each rushing prow? Their frozen sails, the low, pale sun Of Thule’s night has shone upon. ” R OOM for the Vikings! the sons of the creek, the bluff, stalwart rovers who love the salt sea with a consuming passion, and shout with glee as the waves foam beneath them and tempest roars about them. Mighty warriors are they, wild and untamed as the element they love, swift as the falcon, remorseless as the vulture, fierce as the wolf. Fro

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KING CANUTE.

KING CANUTE.

“ Canute o’ercame the race of Ethelred, and Danes wielded the dear realm of Angle-land, eight-and-twenty of winters numbered. ” No saint he who now strides by—a thrice-crowned king, with the Viking blood surging tumultuously in his veins. England, Norway, and Denmark own his sway; but though Denmark is the land of his birth, England is the land of his love and pride. Dane he is in form and feature, but his lust of strife and fierce Berserk rage are controlled by cool judgment and the generous in

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HAROLD OF ENGLAND AND WILLIAM OF NORMANDY.

HAROLD OF ENGLAND AND WILLIAM OF NORMANDY.

“ Yet shall a third both these and thine subdue; There shall a lion from the sea-bord wood Of Neustria come roring, with a crew Of hungry whelpes. ” N OW a remarkable scene diversifies our pageant. You see before you the great hall of the Norman castle of Bayeux. Baron, knight, bishop, and priest fill up the background, and you perceive at once that an important crisis has arrived. Your eye instantly fastens on the two chief actors in the scene; and you do well to study them closely, for rarely

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THE EVE OF THE INVASION.

THE EVE OF THE INVASION.

Homeward speeds Harold, and as he crosses the Channel his terror gives way to wrath at the knavery practised upon him. Speedily he banishes the hateful memory of his enforced oath; he must be up and doing, for the aged king lies on his deathbed. With his dying breath Edward declares that Harold is the most worthy to reign, and the chiefs of the land concur in his choice. Edward is buried with the utmost solemnity in his great new church at Westminster, where you may see his shrine to this day. T

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THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS.

THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS.

“ Norman saw on English oak, On English neck a Norman yoke, Norman spoon in English dish, And England ruled as Normans wish; Blithe world in England never will be more, Till England’s rid of all the four. ” Till England’s rid of all the four. ” And now, in mimic strife, let that great battle which gave England for the last time to foreign foes be fought again. The first act of the drama which we are about to witness takes place on the Sussex shore near Pevensey, on the spot where Roman and Saxon

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WILLIAM THE RED.

WILLIAM THE RED.

“ There is no peace, saith the Lord, unto the wicked. ” L OOK upon the scene which now unfolds itself. You are gazing into the depths of that Hampshire forest which the Conqueror set apart for his kingly sport. It is cursed to his line by reason of the cruelties which he wreaked upon the forest dwellers when he burnt their roof-trees over their heads, and scattered them afar, to make a solitude for his deer. Two scions of his house have already perished in its glades. The forest is silent. It is

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MATILDA, “LADY” OF ENGLAND.

MATILDA, “LADY” OF ENGLAND.

“ Old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago. ” Now you shall witness a striking scene. You are gazing at the castle of Oxford, that stands up grim and square in the midst of its encircling waters. Oxford is already renowned as the abode of quiet scholars and learned men; for “Beauclerc,” who has now gone to his rest, made it an academy and a sanctuary of letters. He it was who built this grim castle, in which to sojourn when he came to Oxford to enjoy the converse of the bookish men who

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THE GREAT ARCHBISHOP.

THE GREAT ARCHBISHOP.

“ Fame’s loudest trump upon the ear of Time Leaves but a dying echo; they alone Are held in everlasting memory Whose deeds partake of heaven. ” Once more the scene changes. We are standing in the High Street of Canterbury watching a notable procession pass by. Listen to the clanging bells, and when they cease, hear the organ rolling forth its waves of harmony from the cathedral. The old timbered houses are decked with streamers and garlands; groups of priests with banners are threading the stree

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STRONGBOW.

STRONGBOW.

“ The lovely and the lonely bride Whom we have wedded but have never won. ” Now, for the first time, let Ireland figure in our pageant. So far England has never intruded upon this “green isle of the west.” Centuries have come and gone since the Kelts first crossed into Erin and subdued the primitive inhabitants by force of arms. Legends, many and wondrously beautiful, still remain of those early times, and men read them to-day with a new and kindling interest. A strange dreamland it is of gods a

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RICHARD OF THE LION HEART.

RICHARD OF THE LION HEART.

“ The knight’s bones are dust, And his good sword rust; His soul is with the saints, I trust! ” Almost the best-known character in all our pageant now makes his appearance. Clad in coat of mail, his shield blazoned with the leopards of England, his surcoat broidered with the Red Cross, he is the very beau-ideal of a knight. Tall, stalwart, handsome, fair-haired, and blue-eyed, the gaze of all men lingers admiringly on him. A good general, a skilful engineer, a wise judge of men, he might have be

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KING JOHN AND MAGNA CHARTA.

KING JOHN AND MAGNA CHARTA.

“ Magna Charta is such a fellow that he will have no sovereign. ” Runnymede spreads before you, the famous field on which the English people wrested from a tyrannous monarch their great table of laws. You see a green meadow stretching along the marge of “silver-footed Thames,” a pasturage in no degree distinguished from scores of others in that fair valley. Fronting it is a little island, set like an emerald in the shining waters. Meadow and island should enchain your attention, for here a deed

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THE FIRST PRINCE OF WALES.

THE FIRST PRINCE OF WALES.

“ God bless the Prince of Wales. ” A ND now “gallant little Wales” shall supply a scene to our pageant. History may not sanction the subject of it, but it may not be omitted. You are spectators within the gray walls of Carnarvon Castle, that grim old fortress which overlooks the fair waters of Menai Strait. From its soaring towers your eye takes in the wild mountain region of Snowdonia, a land of hoary summits and green valleys, in the recesses of which the old Celtic inhabitants of Britain stub

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WILLIAM WALLACE.

WILLIAM WALLACE.

“ At Wallace’ name what Scottish blood But boils up in a spring-time flood. ” Now let the scene shift to Scotland, where the masterful Edward, having subdued Wales, is seeking to lay his hands upon yet another kingdom. Truly the condition of the land invites him to conquest. The Scottish king, on a night ride along the cliffs of the Fifeshire coast, has fallen over the black rocks, and he is no more. The sceptre passes to a frail little grandchild in far-off Norway; but ere she can tread the soi

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ROBERT THE BRUCE.

ROBERT THE BRUCE.

“ They thought to die in the mêlée, Or else to set their country free. ” Not yet may “our stern alarums change for peaceful meetings, our dreadful marches to delightful measures.” Grim-visaged war must still be our portion, if our pageant is to depict the outstanding landmarks in our nation’s story. The victories of peace are for the future; now we must hear again the clash of arms, and share once more the joy of victory and the anguish of defeat. We are still in Scotland, where a successor to W

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THE MERCIFUL QUEEN.

THE MERCIFUL QUEEN.

“ The quality of mercy is not strain’d,— It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: ’Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The thronèd monarch better than his crown. ” The thronèd monarch better than his crown. ” Now let a tableau lend variety to our pageant. On the dais of a royal pavilion outside the walls of Calais you see a warrior king, his noble countenance transfigured with wrath. Around him are

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THE BLACK PRINCE.

THE BLACK PRINCE.

“ Witness our too much memorable shame, When Cressy battle fatally was struck, And all our princes captived, by the hand Of that black name, Edward, black prince of Wales. ” Now you are transported to the streets of fourteenth-century London. You stand at the upper window of a lofty timbered house, and from your coign of vantage see the ancient city donning its festive array. There is an air of rejoicing and there is a buzz of expectation everywhere. The houses of the wealthier citizens are hung

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KING HARRY THE FIFTH.

KING HARRY THE FIFTH.

“ Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies; Now thrive the armourers, and honour’s thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man. ” Y OU are gazing upon the death-chamber of a king. He lies upon his bed in the silent, darkened room, and sleep comes and goes from his troubled pillow. Conscience smites him and disease racks his bones. He has been a man of blood all his days, and many crimes are laid to his charge. He has murdered the king whose crown h

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JOAN, THE MAID.

JOAN, THE MAID.

“ King of France!” She cried, “at Chinon, when my gifted eye Knew thee disguised, what inwardly the spirit Prompted, I promised, with the sword of God, To drive from Orleans far the English wolves And crown thee in the rescued walls of Rheims. All is accomplished. I have here this day Fulfilled my mission, and anointed thee King over this great nation. ” And crown thee in the rescued walls of Rheims. All is accomplished. I have here this day Fulfilled my mission, and anointed

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THE KING-MAKER.

THE KING-MAKER.

“ Heard ye the din of battle bray, Lance to lance, and horse to horse? Long years of havoc urge their destined course, And through the kindred, squadrons mow their way. ” A GREAT noble now rides by on a magnificent coal-black steed. At once your eye is attracted by him, and you feel that here is a Paladin worthy of the pen of poet and romancer. Mark his great stature; his vast width and depth of chest; his high forehead; his black, curling hair fretted from the temples by the friction of his he

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THE LITTLE PRINCES IN THE TOWER.

THE LITTLE PRINCES IN THE TOWER.

“ Let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings. ” Now hand in hand two pathetic figures appear. They are victims marked for the slaughter; their tender age and innocence will not save them, for they stand between a bold, unscrupulous man and the throne. You have already made acquaintance with their father, the fourth Edward, he who owed all to the king-maker, whom he left dead on Barnet Field. But Edward has gone to his account, leaving his two young sons and their mothe

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JOHN AND SEBASTIAN CABOT.

JOHN AND SEBASTIAN CABOT.

“ The white man landed;—need the rest be told? The New World stretched its dusk hand to the Old; Each was to each a marvel, and the tie Of wonder warmed to better sympathy. ” N OW the procession halts, while a momentous scene is enacted before our eyes. We are in the old seaport of Bristol, on a May morning in the year 1497, treading the rough cobbles of the quay whereat the good ship Matthew and her consort lie. Stout, staunch vessels they are, fitted out and provisioned for the most adventurou

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KING AND CARDINAL.

KING AND CARDINAL.

“ I charge thee, fling away ambition; By that sin fell the angels. ” A stately procession now files by, headed by shaven and tonsured priests carrying silver crosses. Behind them a bareheaded noble carries the Great Seal of England, and another a cardinal’s hat on a cushion. Now you hear gentlemen ushers shout, “Make way for my lord’s grace!” and a splendid figure stalks past you with the air of a king. He wears the scarlet robe of a cardinal, with a tippet of fine sable and a gold chain about h

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THE NEW WORSHIP.

THE NEW WORSHIP.

“ The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils Himself in many ways. ” There is a pause in our pageantry. While the next scene is preparing, let the story of the intervening period be briefly told. Twenty-eight years, long and fateful, have come and gone since Wolsey died of a broken heart, and in the interval a new England with a new destiny and a new faith has arisen. The years that have sped have been marked by religious upheaval, and by an extraordinary outburst of persecut

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MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.

MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.

“ And from the top of all my trust Mishap hath thrown me in the dust. ” A DARK and murderous scene now awaits your eyes. It is about seven o’clock on a Saturday evening in March 1566. A beautiful queen is supping with her friends in the inner boudoir of the ancient Palace of Holyrood. Some eightscore armed men stealthily enter the courtyard and close the gates behind them. Within the supper-chamber only one person is cognizant of the foul deed which is even now preparing—and he is the queen’s hu

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THE SPANISH ARMADA.

THE SPANISH ARMADA.

“ Attend, all ye who list to hear our noble England’s praise; I tell of the thrice famous deeds she wrought in ancient days, When the great fleet invincible against her bore in vain The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain. ” I T is the afternoon of July 19, in the year of grace 1588. You are gazing at the terraced bowling-green of the Pelican Inn that looks down upon the blue waters of Plymouth Sound. A group of admirals and captains is gathered on the closely-shaven lawn, men

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SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

“ For ’tis the sunrise now of zeal, And faith and hope are in their prime In great Eliza’s golden time. ” Once more Queen Elizabeth figures in our pageant. She is passing to her barge amidst a crowd of courtiers, who buzz round her like bees seeking the honey of her smile. Amongst the spectators of her progress you observe a young man, comely of person, handsome of face, and gallant of bearing. Suddenly her Majesty pauses; the ground is miry, and she hesitates to soil her dainty shoes. In a mome

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CHARLES THE FIRST.

CHARLES THE FIRST.

“ He nothing common did or mean Upon that memorable scene, But with his keener eye The axe’s edge did try; Nor called the gods with vulgar spite To vindicate his helpless right, But bowed his comely head Down, as upon a bed. ” To vindicate his helpless right, But bowed his comely head Down, as upon a bed. ” T HE incident you are now to witness is without a parallel in the history of our land. The scene opens in Westminster Hall, the vast building erected for the judicial courts of the realm by W

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OLIVER CROMWELL.

OLIVER CROMWELL.

“ Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud Not of war only, but detractions rude, Guided by faith and matchless fortitude. ” Six years have come and gone since the execution of Charles the First, and England has had no king in the interval. The great, strong man, Oliver Cromwell, who by his military genius has overthrown the king and made the army supreme, has crushed all opposition by the weight of his iron hand. At the head of his buff-coated Ironsides—men with psalms on their lips and

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ROBERT BLAKE.

ROBERT BLAKE.

“ Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow, While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow. ” And the stormy winds do blow. ” An admiral sits writing at a table in the cabin of his dismasted flagship, the Triumph . He is a short, squat, ungainly man, but within that unprepossessing exterior there is one of the most heroic and purely patriotic souls that ever existed. His heavy fac

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THE RESTORATION OF CHARLES THE SECOND.

THE RESTORATION OF CHARLES THE SECOND.

“ Who comes with rapture greeted, and caressed With frantic love,—his kingdom to regain? ” I T is the 29th of May, 1660, and London is a gala city. The streets are hung with tapestry; flags and banners wave from the housetops; the citizens in their best attire throng the streets; the mayor, aldermen, and the gilds in all their bravery of ceremonial robes and gold chains hie them to the city gates; every balcony is full of lords and ladies clad in the sumptuous trappings of state; drums roll, tru

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JAMES, DUKE OF MONMOUTH.

JAMES, DUKE OF MONMOUTH.

“ Step by step, and word by word: who is ruled may read, Suffer not the old kings—for we know the breed. ” Once more the scene is laid in Whitehall. James, the brother of Charles, is king, and he is now about to grant an audience to a nephew who has unsuccessfully rebelled against him and lies under sentence of death. Look at the king’s face. You see at once that he is a slow, narrow man, singularly obstinate, harsh, and implacable. His heart is as hard as the marble chimney-pieces of his own pa

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WILLIAM THE THIRD.

WILLIAM THE THIRD.

“ I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true-fixed and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament. ” A PRINCE now passes by on horseback. He is small, almost diminutive, but by no means insignificant. His figure is slender and apparently feeble, but few men have borne such hardships and sustained such reverses of fortune as he. His forehead is ample, his nose aquiline, his eye bright and keen, his lips thin and compressed, his cheek pale and deeply furrowed by the marks of sickne

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THE GREAT DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH.

THE GREAT DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH.

“ If I lose mine honour, I lose myself. ” Who comes hither? A soldier of commanding stature and strikingly handsome face; dignified, yet winning in manner; blessed, it would seem, with all possible gifts and graces. He is John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, Prince of the Holy Roman Empire—one of the greatest military geniuses who ever lived, the victor of one of the decisive battles of the world, the man who overthrew the vast fabric of power which Lewis the Fourteenth had erected, the general

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Chapter XVI. BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE.

Chapter XVI. BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE.

“ Come weal, come woe, we’ll gather and go, And live and die for Charlie. ” T HE scene shifts to the shores of a remote loch in the Western Highlands of Scotland. Great, gloomy hills rise from the water’s edge; the whole aspect of the place is wild and solitary. At the head of the loch is a little plain, from which a narrow, rocky glen runs far inland. Not a soul is in sight; not a sound breaks the stillness. Now you see a small company of men appear on the plain. In the centre of them is a gall

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ROBERT CLIVE, THE DARING IN WAR.

ROBERT CLIVE, THE DARING IN WAR.

“ War, disguised as commerce, came; Britain, carrying sword and flame, Won an empire. ” Y OU are now permitted to peep into the citadel of Arcot, the old capital of the Carnatic. Its walls are ruinous, its ramparts unfitted for guns, its battlements too low to protect soldiers. The town is in the hands of four thousand native troops, assisted by one hundred and fifty Frenchmen. Within the fort there are but a hundred and twenty Europeans and two hundred Sepoys. Their stock of provisions is very

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JAMES WOLFE, CONQUEROR OF CANADA.

JAMES WOLFE, CONQUEROR OF CANADA.

“ Wolfe, where’er he fought, Put so much of his heart into his act That his example had a magnet’s force, And all were swift to follow whom all loved. ” Once more you see a young soldier advancing. He is a hero of heroes, yet never was the soul of a hero enshrined in a more unhero-like frame. His features are homely, his hair is fiery-red, his shoulders are narrow, and his limbs are veritable spindle-shanks. But look at his eyes, and you will instantly forget his plain features and his rickety b

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Chapter XVIII. NELSON OF THE NILE.

Chapter XVIII. NELSON OF THE NILE.

“ Admirals all, for England’s sake, Honour be yours, and fame! And honour, as long as waves shall break, To Nelson’s peerless fame. ” I T is a gray, melancholy spring day in the year 1771. You are at Chatham, looking on to the deck of his Majesty’s ship Raisonnable , commanded by Captain Maurice Suckling. The sixty-four is not yet ready for sea; her chief officers are not yet aboard. On the quay you see a thin, delicate-looking lad of twelve years of age dressed in a “middy’s” uniform. The

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Chapter XIX. WELLINGTON.

Chapter XIX. WELLINGTON.

“ Lead out the pageant: sad and slow, As fits an universal woe, Let the long long procession go, And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow, And let the mournful martial music blow: The last great Englishman is low. ” The last great Englishman is low. ” I T is a bleak November day in the year 1852. Vast multitudes, most of them in the garb of mourning, throng the streets of London, and stand for hours waiting for a great funeral procession to pass by. The muffled bells of the churches are tolling

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SIXTY YEARS AFTER.

SIXTY YEARS AFTER.

“ And ever when mid-June’s musk roses blow Our race will celebrate Victoria’s name, And even England’s greatness gain a glow From her pure fame! ” You are in London on the twenty-second day of June in the year 1897, and again it is in festal array. The whole nation is making holiday to rejoice in the completion of sixty years of peace and prosperity under the beneficent sway of a dearly-loved queen. Ten years ago great public thanksgivings signalized her jubilee; now that she has occupied

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