^ ;,■>■'"■■■•■ o-^"v!v-.'i;/«'i''.>V:\ v>. THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES jasi L..»<»--^*''>-*'^' Lurida Lumina m THE AUTHOR OF " JONAS FISHER" NOT PUBLISHED EDINBURGH PRINTED FOR EDMONSTON & DOUGLAS 18 7 6 [^All Mights Meserved^ BRECHIN D. H. EDWARDS, PRINTIB. PREFACE. The poem contained in tliis volume was written in 1874, — previously to "Jonas Fisher," in wliich a real reference is made to it. The subject requiring an imaginary occupation of our own country by hostile forces, a French army has been chosen to playthe invader's part, with some of its too usual sad and horrible accompaniments. But in making such choice the axithor wishes it understood that he had no design to vilify the great Gallic nation : his field of selection was practically limited to France or G ermany, and he chose the former as more suitable for his pui-posc, just as, a few years ago, the author of the " Battle of Dorldng" chose the latter for similar reasons. In view of the orderly conduct of the German troops while occupying France during the late war, it would have been absvu'd to use them as types of disorder in an imaginary campaign. On the other hand, the behaviour of the French in Spain and Portugal thi-ough- 937838 riJEFACE. out tlie reninsular wars of this niueteeiitli century (to say nothing of tales of horror from Algeria), renders probable tlie ascription to their soldiery of crimes of violence towards the helpless inliabitants of a land oviT-run by their invading legions. As regards tlie young captain to whom a villainous role is assigned, the aiithor wishes him to be viewed as one uf those exceptional wretches wlio may disgrace the officer-uniform of any army, and not in the least degree as a typical specimen of tlie French officer of this present period, or of any recent past or presumable future ; as, in like manner, tlie supposed teller of the poem's tale is far from being meant to typify an ordinary officer of British volunteers. On the contrasted behaviour of the French and German armies while occupying an enemy's country, a highly in- teresting article will be found in the "■ Pall Mall Gazette" of April 7, 187-1. LURIDA LUMIFA 'AuorsTUS Geace" loq. '^ My poem is a rhajysody, In figure of a fitful dream ; Wrongs to the guiltless, sorrow, rage, Fierce vengeance, form its earlier theme. And the7% it seeks that hidden world Jiliich lies beyond the corpse's toml ; Descends to Hades, to the souls Of sinners suffering in the gloom ; Visits a lower Paradise, On infant souls to set its gaze ; Ascends to Heaven's majestic gates And sees the outmost glories blazed ''Jonas Fistier :" Part v., v(T. CI, 02, 63. LURIDA LUMINA. The moonbeams la}^ low on the wild rocky liill ; Tlie caverns gaped black, and the snow-wreaths hung The frost-fang bit keenly, the breezes were still ; [chill ; Old Earth lay stark and cold. And I gazed from my bed ; and my spirit took wings, And explored past and present and forthcoming things ; And my soul dreamed a dream : to my memory it clings. And thus shall it be told : — 'Twas a colourless noon in the Autumn's eclipse, And the robin sang soft 'mid the haws and the hips, And a silent grey fog spread its blight-bearing mass O'er garden, o'er woodland, o'er terrace, o'er grass : A shroud of woe — of woe ! For a ruthless invader had entered our land, He had ruined our homes with his red right hand : Yea, wherever tlie steps of these recreants fall They rob, slay, and ravage, in cottage and hull ; AVhile fiends with rapture glow. 4 LURID A LUMIXA. But, good tliauks to our sturdy old Norseman strain, AVe had di'iven the knaves tow'rds their ships again ; Heaps on heaps lay our comrades to stiffen in gore — "WTiat recked we ! those cursed ones suffered the more, Their souls went packing pell-mell. But so strong was their host in its ordered array, Halting oft in retreat like a tiger at bay. That our brave volunteers could not put them to rout, Though they pressed on their columns and drove them And they did the deeds of Hell. [about ; Xow that morn, in the time of the year's eclipse. As we pressed them hard on their way to the ships — The foe was put to his speed, — They showed front for an houi' in an ancient hall. Ah ! 'twas there that my wife and my loved ones all Were abiding in peace. How my heart made call On Heav'n to help their need ! The house was no castle, no building of strength ; AVide windows and doorways divided its length, Struck by one shell 'twould reel. Not a field-piece is up. Shall we wait ? Nay, time calls: So, instead of explosives or ponderous balls, We hurl our own selves at the death-dealing walls, To take the place with cold steel. LUEIDA LVMIXA. 5 From the -windows above and the windows below "We are pelted with ball bj the fortified foe, Aud the lawn is an open plain : But we rush under lee of the terrace height, And rally. Then, swift as the flashing of light, Away ! and at them again. * ii- H- * The high terrace wall and the steps are passed ; Their bullets come sweeping like hail on the blast, And again we are open to view. 'V\Tio screams that wild scream fi'om the shores of the He falls at my feet with his arms outspread, [dead ? And his blood gushes over the mignonette bed, A ball in his heart and a ball in his head : Ah, brother, it was 3-ou I * * « *- We swarm up the steps of the balcony stair, Aud burst through the pillow-piled casements. Ha Each bayonet went in straight. [there ! We pitch them aloft, like the loading of carts ; We pierce them and cleave them and hew them in parts ; Small mind have they to wait ! We rush thi'ough the library, empty again Of all save a heap of dead bodies of men — Away ! to the entrance gate ! b , LTUIDA LrNflXA. liut I, dragged by the cords at my heart's deep root, Tit Id me back from the rest in the hot pursuit : After the foe they sped ; Wliile I traversed long corridors, hasting alone To the rooms that my dearest ones used as their oaa^u. How shook my soul with dread ! Oil, what thoughts came and went. Now, strong fear cried, ' Alas ! Brace thy mind up for woe : ne'er unscathed could thoy pass Through that murderous band.' Rut hope whispered, ' Eejoice, All thy l(jved ones are safe. At the sound of thy voice They will leave some sure hiding-place. Then at thy choice' . . . What is this ? — this thing that lies dead! 'Tis my dear little school-boy — how ghastly ! how chill ! His sweet features death-pale, his lips rigid and still, His fair locks dabbled with red. One poor, weak, little hand spread its fingers all flat, But the other still clutched at a small cricket-bat — Brave weapon for one so young. "Ah, ray child, didst thou figlit for thy motlier like that — To defy the strong men with thy small cricket-bat ! Now thy bat and thy soul are sprung." LURID A LUAIIXA. I As in isles wliere fierce sun-beams through tinil)(n--trees Turning fibres to iron, and sap to fused brass, [pass, The wild savage's death-dealing war-club falls fair On the broad-fronted skull of a beast in its lair, — So Hell's club fell on me. 1 staggered, and gasped, and my heart stood still, And my brains went awhirl like the sails of a mill ; And a shiver ran through me, my nerves became lead. Now I moved half alive, now I stumbled half dead ; My eyes had no light to see. Then, bewildered and dazed, I continued my way Through the door, which in splinters confusedly lay ; But my senses returned while I struggled to creep O'er the ruins that rose in a mountainous heap : — Ruin shall rule for ever ! Chairs, tables, and sofas in fragments upborne, Books, pictures, fair vases, all broken or torn, Bright flow'rs crushed, and hurled o'er the chaos of things, A camellia entwined with a shattered harp's strings : — Music returneth never ! There, oh there, still" and dead, lay the life of my life, The true soul of my soul, my beloved, my wife. ' ' my lily, my love, thou heart of my heart ! God gladden thee, sweetest, wherever thou art." O LUEIDA LUMIXA. Music, sweetness, for ever ai'e done : AVeeping, and moaning, and wailing begun. As a Lull in a net, wliom the liunters o'ertlirow, Eoareth loud in liis rage, writlieth wild in liis woe, Beats the soU with his head till earth's caverns do quake, Eoars and bellows so strong that the forest doth shake, — So I writhed, and roared to the sky. But a coldness of tombs soon crept chiU on my soul — Though one fumace-spot glowed — and it brought me control O'er the madness that tliundered so high. Then I rose to my knees : — " thou Being up there !" — And my breath came reversed, in the strength of my prayer — " Hast thou eyes that can see ? Hast thou feelings that yearn ? Hast thou ears that can hear ? Hast thou sense to Beliold the deeds of these men ! [discern ? my Lord, my God, great fountain of might. Bend thy thoughts to this problem and set this wi'ong right : In thy wisdom — thy genius — devise some vast plan, Never thought of before, for the torment of man, — Some woe to transcend all ken. May they linger for ever in darkness and chains, LURIDA LUMIXA. "With Hell's worm in their hearts, and Heav'ns fire in their brains ; Give such growth to their anguish, for ever and aye. That a Heav'n will seem lost at the close of each day. As the new woe outmasters the woe passed away. Amen, amen, and amen." Then such whii-lwinds of agony brought me to bow, That I lay down and groaned : lo, I felt on my brow Warm touches, dropjied softly as dewdrops might fall ; 'Twas the gentle small dog long beloved by us all, The pet of my dear slain boy. Eememb'ring past play-times it rose up to beg ; But the blood trickled fast from its broken foreleg, And its soft skin was gashed with deep wounds in the . side '' sank down and died. Its good spirit went to joy. Ah ! these are the moments that rend one in twain ; But the world still rolls on, and we cannot remain To gi-ovel to Fate like a slave. I rose ; then I tenderly lifted my wife From the j)lace where in sorrow she sighed out her life. I smoothed her lace handkerchief over her breast, And down on a cushion I laid her, to rest Till we laid her to rest in her grave. 10 LURIDA LIIMINA. "Alas ! ah alas ! Canst thou leave mo my love ? Ah, my rose of all roses ! my tender white dove ! Return ! oh return ! oh return unto mo ! Bring thy life back to mine, or take mine unto thee." Thus did I mourn and rave. Hark ! what is that music, so soft yet so clear, So sad in its mildness, so grave in its cheer ? — past by those notes recalled ! — The delicate music more plainly I heard ; It was naught but the song of the little tamo bird That we took from its nest as we wandered together, My darling and I, midst the pines and the heather, Far, far, in the Thiiringer Wald. ' Ach, wie ist's mbglich'daim, Dasa ich dich lassen kann r* Hab' dich von herzcn lieb, Das glaubc mir. Du hast die secle mein So ganz genommen eiii, Dass ich kcin aiidre lieb' Als difh allein.'* " Alas ! and alas ! can I leave thee my love ? Bid thy body farewell ? — though thy soul is above. * There are several versions of tliis old Thiirinyiau song ; the above iw believed to be the best. LTJEIDA LUMINA. 11 Impossible — ever with thee will I wait. Yea, possible, — all things are so unto fate." Music, sweetness, for ever are done ; Sighing, longing, slow sorrowing, begun. The game for my heart to its end hath run : Joy hath lost, — Grief hath won. I followed my comrades. Short distance to go Till I found them again, at the front of the foe ; For the fugitive miscreants their flight had made good To a wing of their army, entrenched in a wood. With a strong artillery power. There were palisades, ditches quick sunk in the ground, Guns gajDed their wide muzzles and mitrailloui*s frowned ; There were trous-de-loup planted with rifles and pikes. There were blade-bearing beams with a forest of spikes : They were safe, at least for the hour. But to wait in contentment, in peace to remain, Till our forces arrived and our battering- train ; To wait days and long nights — with the chance of a slip 'Twixt the cup of revenge and my fury-parched lip — Not this ! did my spirit say. Ere the sot of the sun musit my hatred be fed, 12 LIUUDA LUMIXA. The dry tears on my cheek be bedahbled with red, In wet blood washed away. So I brought to the front the most choice of my men, — Hough hill-folk, fierce lads of the forest and glen ; They could climb like the marten, and Itouud like the stoat, Like the wild-cat spring straight at an enemy's throat, Like the fox creep soft on their game. Then I called the old Sergeant, — each hill-man he knew, Ivnew his strength, speed and courage, what deeds ho could do, — A grim ciirl-bearded ancient, hard, war}', astute, Vast of chest, long of grasp, eye as eagle's acute, A stark bull in the fight, a keen hound in pursuit : Time could not damage that frame. " Hark, Donald," I whispered, " I plan to sui-priso A strong outpost, close by the entrenchment it lies. On the flat at the top of the rocks that uprise Above the pool by the ford. Muster forty strong fellows, the best you can find, Smart runners and climbers : leave rifles behind, — Coats, pouches, beside them stored." The men were soon chosen, and drawn up apart, And Donald harangued them with words to the lie^rt : Few words could I ac(-ord. LUKIDA LUMI^"A. 13 " Well laddies !" said lie, " we are off to a dance WTiere ye'll need all your legs. There's a kind of a chance "We will find yon folks' ball-room o'er hot ; then, I say, De'il take him that's the hindmost in getting away !" — Gaily the fellows grin. " Off jackets ! grey shirts for work, for work: Down with the rifle, — hey ! for the dirk ; Yon's your boy, with a whish and a yerk. To tickle a roguey's skin 1" * a- ■?.- * Away we go, at a swinging stride, Till we reach the deep bank at the river side ; Then, each crouching closely in stillness profound, AVe crawl like long adders, we cling to the ground, And thus we ascend the rock. Concealed by thick bushes, we near the ledge : In a waiTU, sheltered hollow, just under the edge, A sentry stands like a stock. From above, at the shoulder, strong Donald strikes full, But the man gives a start — the dirk enters his skull So deep 'tis hard to free. One tugs out the blade, while another one lays Himself on the soldier and earthward weighs His struggling body ; which up they raise When stilled it seems to be, 14 LUMDA LrMIXA. But it slips from their hands Mith a quivor and glide, And rolls down the rock to the torrent's tide, Then off to the roaring sea. The toj) is now reached : with a spruce for our screen We can gaze at the spoilers. All ! this is the scene To our vengeful eyes displayed : — In groups they are heedlessly scattered around, 'Mong the trees some are seated, some stretched on the ground ; The most have their limbs with fresh bandages bound. Some groaning apart are laid. joy ! mark these badges, these colours ! no doubt It is they, — the curs'd crew we had put to the rout — ^\^lose hands my ruin had made. By themselves crouch'd three girls ; they were weeping forlorn, Their hair was dishevelled, their dresses were torn, Low drooped each sorrowful face. Said Donald — his voice was as one fi'om the grave — " Poor lassies ! not Hell nor his army shall save Them that wrought that disgrace." On a bank, near a tent rather lofty and wide, Sat a man, half-reclining, a girl at his side. By his loathsome gazo defiled. LUEIDA LUMIXA. 15 A gentleman he — just as far as tlie skin, — A sleek courtier without, a foul vampire within ; Fleshy lipp'd, his black eyes of an insolent glow, Smart-booted, white-handed ; a student ? e'en so — Of Baudelaire the leprous, and fulsome Foydeau. Hell ! how his foul mouth smiled, lie glared at the girl. She sat silent and still, Like a sibylline statue, hard, ghastly and chill. That girl was my own dear child. A bottle of wine on the table is placed Beside them. He moves. He encircles her waist : The merry bright wine he sips. " Buvez, ma marguerite ! — Belle a distraii'e, — Ah ! la blonde tourterelle — Buvez ma chere!" — He holds the glass to her lij)s. As in realms of the north, where the ice-fields lie wide, The hot geyser bursts forth from the stony hill-side, Leaps Heav'n-ward with swift irresistible might, Then Hell- ward descends to the caverns of night, — So, we fell upon them straight. I dashed that heau capitaine down to the ground, And I twisted his head right round and round Till I heard his vertebree grate. 16 LfRIDA LUMINA. And I felt in ni}' belt for 1113- whittle clear, The knife that I carried to finish the deer, And I grapj)led his collar and waistband trim, And I turned up his face, and I finished him, — I clove his carrion heart. He shivered and quivered, — I spurned him aside, And left him to roll in the ruddy-black tide ; His body, to fatten the place where ke died, His soul, for Hell to start. To my daughter I turned : — " Child, I give thee this knife ; Yon filth that annoyed thee, 'tis wet with his life. Love, kiss, and cherish the blade. And think not, my darling, to rest any more Till anew by thyself it is feasted with gore. A rifle I'll give thee, — I'll teach thee to kill ; And as falls a new foe, thou shalt cry to him still, ' That wound thine own liand made.' " She looked at me, — sad, yet mild, clear, and serene, As the moon views a land where a tempest hath been,- Her soft voice rose to the sky : " My father, brave warriors such weapons may own, A pure maid uses none — save in one case alone — Praise God! a maiden am I." LUKIDA LTJMIXA. 17 Slio fell on her knees, and her hands she raised, And her sweet eyes wept, and her sweet lix^s praised, — She praised the Lord on high. Then np sprang a girl, — she was slender and weak, And a bright hectic colour flushed hot on her cheek : — ' ' Give, oh ! give me a rifle, and let me be drest As a man, — like a man I will shoot with the best ! " She swoons: ah me ! what a sigh. " Hoots sir! " says Donald, " it's time to step ; Yon devils are swarming like bees from a skcp." They now brought guns to bear. Whish ! comes a shell. Eight amongst us it hits, And a Scot and three prisoners are spinning in bits : Small good to linger there. So we gathered our force, and away we ran ; Some carried a woman, some dragged off a man ; Two soldiers old Donald seized hard by their throats, And he drove them along as a lion drives goats : Down the rocks we pressed. "We were well on our way ere the enemy got To the edge of the cliff ; then their bullets came hot. Some lads were sent to their rest ; But a few paces more set us safe from harm. My daughter ! how strangely she sinks from my arm ! 18 LUKIDA LUMIXA. — A ball was tlirouerh hor broast. o ' ' Music ! — Sweetness ! — Metliinks that before I have heard of such fancies : — no more — no more ! Ha ha ! I can kill, though I cannot restore." I look round at my men, they right well understand, For each eye seeks the pris'ners, — a villainous band Whose presence the earth aggrieves. " Take them," said I, " through the garden gate : Hang them all on the lime-tree." So, thanks to fate, The old tree would have winter leaves. This great lime stands alone, where two paths intersect ; Its vast limbs from the stem at right-angles project — Most meet for hanging thieves. As these men to their doom through the garden wo took, Up came the old gardener ; strange was liis look, Ilis face was blood-smeared, he was reading a book, His clothes were dangling in shreds. And he talked as he walked, and his hands he flang All round and round ; then he stopped, and sang, And smiled to the flower-beds. Can this scare-crow be Eobcrt ? — the prudent, the staid, LURIDA LUMIXA. 19 Tlie g;<)riXA. Mighty heroes of battle, sweet heroes of song ; Kings, prophets, apostles, exalted of name, Now as great in their splendour as groat in their fame — Ah me ! what wonders loom ! Lo ! behold those grand beings so stately of gaze, The high fathers of nations. What radiancies blaze From yon King ! Even thus all resplendent he shone When he waved his red rod, and the waters rushed on, And Egypt sank to doom. Yea, behold here another, most noble of soul. Whom e'en Death was too feeble of grasp to control — Elijah. How swelled his great heart with content, When afar from the earth in God's chariot he went, Nor ever saw the tomb ! There, — see there, — stands that greatest apostle of all, AVoman-hearted, man-minded, vast-spirited Paul : Wliat keen rays from him dart ! There, — see there, — that swift eagle of God-gifted wing, The apostle belov'd most. See, near him, the King Who in holy Judroa high antliems did roll, — A true Aryan in honour till ease trapped his soul, — One after God's own heart. And there ! — Wlio is this that appears to me now, With the planet-like eyes and the firmament brow ? Mighty Shakespeare — arrayed as the spirits that guide LURIDA LUMIXA. 51 Tlio vast suns of the suns. — How tliey tliroiig' to luy side ! Lord, lot Dio now depart ! Hark ! hark ! that grand music. It peals through the sphere. Oh, how nobly, how proudly, it breaks on the ear ! Like an army of warriors its sjilendours advance. Lo, the roar of the rush as the battle-steeds prance ! How clangs the loud trumpet, — how rattles the lance ! Hark, the shields golden clash ! See, the red banners Hark to the chariots' roll ! [dance ! On ! march on, Heav'nly host, in high majesty go ! On ! sweep on, thou strong sea, o'er the souls of the foe — Thou glorious sea of soul ! Sound hath died into silence. What means this soft strain, — Bitter-sweet, joyous-sad ? Ah ! I hear it again. Wild notes of the wood-land, ye come not in vain ! All my being is wracked with the dream of a pain. To the dust by your cadence recalled. my heart ! my heart ! AVhat are glories to thee ? So remote! — and meanwhile — Oh, that God would give me — 52 LrEIDA LUMIXA. And to nim would I yield all that futures may liold — Could I but to my bosom still lovingly fold My most sweetest sweet wife, as in dear days of old, When, with baud linked in band, we botb wandered together. My darling and I, midst the pines and the heather, Far, far, in the Thiiringer AVald. " Bliiu ist ein bliunelein Das lieisst Vergisis-uicht-mein; Das bltlnflein leg' :ius herz, Uud dciik' au mich. Stirbt blum' unci hofliiung gleicli, Wir siud an liebo reich, Und die stii-bt nie bei mk, Das glaube mir." Music, sweetness, content, are fled. Mourning and yearning and pining, instead, Cleave close to my being. Would God I were dead ! THE EXD. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. HERMINIUS; a Romance. Crown 8vo. 66. Edinburgh : Edmonston ifc Douglas. 1862. EEITAIN'S ART PARADISE : oe, Notes on suME Pictures ix the Royal Academy— 1S71. Demy Svo. is. Edinijiirgh : Edmonston & Douglas. 1871. SASKATCHEWAN, AND THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS : a Narrative of Travel through the Hudson's Bay Territories. Demy Svo. 18s. Edinburgh : Edmonston &l Douglas. 1875. JONAS FISHER : a Poem in Beown and White. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. London : Trubner