Crush'd on his breast-plate falling, the vast force,

:

Shattered the bone, and with his mangled lungs
The fragments mingled. On the sunny brow
Of a fair hill, wood-circled, stood his home,
A pleasant dwelling, whence the ample ken
Gazed o'er subjected distance, and surveyed
Streams, hills, and forests, fair variety!
The traveller knew its hospitable towers,
For open were the gates, and blazed for all
The friendly fire. By glory lur'd, the youth
Went forth; and he had bathed his falchion's edge
In many a Frenchman's gore; now crush'd beneath
The ponderous fragments force, his mangled limbs
Lie quivering.

*

Lo! towards the levelled moat,

A moving tower the men of Orleans wheel

*The following extract from the History of Edward III. by Joshua Barnes will convey a full idea of these moving towers. "Now the Earl of Darby had layn before Reule more than nine weeks, in which time he had made two vast Belfroys or

Four stages elevate. Above was hung,
Equalling the walls, a bridge; in the lower stage
The ponderous battering-ram: a troop within
Of archers, thro' the opening, shot their shafts.

Bastilles of massy timber, with three stages or floors; each of the belfroys running on four huge wheels, bound about with thick hoops of iron; and the sides and other parts that any ways respected the town were covered with raw hides, thick laid, to defend the engines from fire and shot. In every one of these stages were placed an hundred archers, and between the two Bastilles, there were two hundred men with pickaxes and mattocks. From these six stages six hundred archers shot so fiercely all together, that no man could appear at his defence without a sufficient punishment: so that the Belfreys being brought upon wheels by the strength of men over a part of the ditch, which was purposely made plain and level by the faggots and earth and stones cast upon them, the two hundred pioneers plyed their work so well under the protection of these engines, that they made a considerable breach through the walls of the town.

The archers and cross-bowmen from the upper stories in the moveable towers essayed to drive away the garrison from the parapets, and on a proper opportunity to let fall a bridge, by that means to enter the town. In the bottom story was often a large ram.

Grose.

In the loftiest part was Conrade, so prepar'd

To mount the rampart; for he loath'd the chase,
And loved to see the dappled foresters
Browze fearless on their lair, with friendly eye,
And happy in beholding happiness,

Not meditating death: the bowman's art
Therefore he little knew, nor was he wont
To aim the arrow at the distant foe.

But uprear in close conflict, front to front,
His death-red battle-axe, and break the shield,
First in the war of men. There too the Maid
Awaits, impatient on the wall to wield

Her falchion. Onward moves the heavy tower,
Slow o'er the moat and steady, tho' the foe
Showered there their javelins, aim'd their engines there,
And from the arbalist the fire-tipt * dart

* Against the moveable tower there were many modes of defence. The chief was to break up the ground over which it was to pass, or by undermining it to overthrow it. Attempts were likewise made to set it on fire, to prevent which it was covered with raw hides, or coated over with alum.

Grose.

Shot lightening thro' the sky. In vain it flamed,
For well with many a reeking hide secured,

Pass'd on the dreadful pile, and now it reached
The wall. Below, with forceful impulse driven,
The iron-horned engine swings its stroke,

Then back recoils, whilst they within who guide,
In backward step collecting all their strength,
Anon the massy beam with stronger arm
Drive full and fierce; so rolls the swelling sea
Its curly billows to the unmoved foot

Of some huge promontory, whose broad base
Breaks the rough wave; the shiver'd surge rolls back,
Till, by the coming billow borne, it bursts
Again, and foams with ceaseless violence.

The Wanderer, on the sunny clift outstretch'd,

Harks to the roaring surges, as they rock
His weary senses to forgetfulness.

But nearer danger threats the invaders now,
For on the ramparts, lowered from above

*

The bridge reclines. An universal shout

* These bridges are described by Rollin in the account of the moving towers which he gives from Vegetius. "The moving towers are made of an assemblage of beams and strong planks, not unlike a house. To secure them against the fires thrown by the besieged, they are covered with raw hides, or with pieces of cloth made of hair. Their height is in proportion to their base. They are sometimes thirty feet square, and sometimes forty or fifty. They are higher than the walls. or even towers of the city. They are supported upon several wheels according to mechanic principles, by the means of which the machine is easily made to move, how great soever it may be. The town is in great danger if this tower can approach the walls; for it has stairs from one story to another, and includes different methods of attack. At bottom it has a ram to batter the wall, and on the middle story a drawbridge, made of two beams with rails of basket-work, which lets down easily upon the wall of a city, when within the reach of it. The besiegers pass upon this bridge, to make themselves masters of the wall. Upon the higher stories are soldiers armed with partisans and missive weapons, who keep a perpetual discharge upon the works. When affairs are in this posture, a place seldom held out long. For what can they hope who have nothing to confide in but the height of their ramparts, when they see others suddenly appear which command them?

The Towers or Belfreys of modern times rarely exceeded three or four stages or stories.