James Barron Hope
What! ye hold yourselves as freemen?
Tyrants love just such as ye!
Go! abate your lofty manner!
Write upon the State’s old banner,
“_A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!_”
Sink before the federal altar,
Each one low, on bended knee,
Pray, with lips that sob and falter,
This prayer from the coward’s psalter,–
“_A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!_”
But ye hold that quick repentance
In the Northern mind will be;
This repentance comes no sooner
Than the robbers did, at Luna!
“_A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!_”
He repented _him_:–the Bishop
Gave him absolution free;
Poured upon him sacred chrism
In the pomp of his baptism.
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
He repented;–then he sickened!
Was he pining for the sea?
_In extremis_ was he shriven,
The viaticum was given,
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
Then the old cathedral’s choir
Took the plaintive minor key;
With the Host upraised before him,
Down the marble aisles they bore him;
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
While the bishop and the abbot–
All the monks of high degree,
Chanting praise to the Madonna,
Came to do him Christian honor!
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
Now the _miserere’s_ cadence,
Takes the voices of the sea;
As the music-billows quiver,
See the dead freebooter shiver!
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
Is it that these intonations
Thrill him thus from head to knee?
Lo, his cerements burst asunder!
‘Tis a sight of fear and wonder!
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
Fierce, he stands before the bishop,
Dark as shape of Destinie.
Hark! a shriek ascends, appalling,–
Down the prelate goes–dead–falling!
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
Hastings lives! He was but feigning!
What! Repentant? Never he!
Down he smites the priests and friars,
And the city lights with fires!
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
Ah! the children and the maidens,
‘Tis in vain they strive to flee!
Where the white-haired priests lie bleeding,
Is no place for woman’s pleading.
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
Louder swells the frightful tumult–
Pallid Death holds revelrie!
Dies the organ’s mighty clamor,
By the horseman’s iron hammer!
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
So they thought that he’d repented!
Had they nailed him to the tree,
He had not deserved their pity,
And they had not–lost their city.
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_
For the moral in this story,
Which is plain as truth can be:
If we trust the North’s relenting,
We shall shriek-too late repenting–
_”A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”_ [1]
[1] For this incident in the life of the sea-robber, Hastings, see Milman’s
History of Latin Christianity.
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem is built as a warning, not a meditation. It speaks directly to people the speaker believes are fooling themselves. From the opening lines, the speaker mocks those who think they are free while, in his view, submitting to domination. The tone is sharp and confrontational. There is no attempt to persuade gently. The poem assumes its audience is in danger because of weakness, not strength.
The repeated Latin phrase, “A furore Normanorum, Libera nos, O Domine,” becomes the backbone of the poem. The phrase translates to “From the fury of the Northmen, deliver us, O Lord.” Every time it appears, it reinforces fear and helplessness. It also connects the present conflict the speaker has in mind to an older historical threat. By repeating this line, the poem creates the sense that history is repeating itself. The danger is not new, and the mistake people are making now is the same mistake made before.
The historical story of Hastings becomes the poem’s central example. Hastings, a Viking raider, pretends to repent and convert to Christianity. The bishop and clergy accept his repentance, baptize him, and honor him. But the repentance is false. Hastings rises from what was supposed to be his deathbed and attacks the city, killing clergy and civilians. The poem presents this as an act of calculated deception. The church’s mercy and trust do not bring peace. They bring destruction.
This story functions as more than history. It becomes an allegory. Hastings represents an enemy who cannot be trusted, no matter what gestures of repentance or peace they make. The bishop and clergy represent people who allow themselves to believe in reconciliation. Their mistake is not cruelty, but misplaced faith. They trust words instead of actions, and that trust leads to their deaths.
The imagery becomes increasingly violent as the poem progresses. The cathedral, a place of safety and worship, becomes a place of slaughter. Priests lie bleeding, the organ falls silent, and the city burns. These images are meant to erase any illusion that mercy will lead to peace. The destruction is total. The enemy does not honor the customs or institutions of the people he destroys.
Religion plays a complicated role in the poem. The clergy perform rituals meant to save Hastings’ soul, but those rituals are powerless against his intentions. The poem suggests that faith alone cannot protect people from physical threats. Prayer and ceremony do not stop violence. In fact, the poem implies that these religious acts may even make people more vulnerable, because they encourage trust where suspicion would be safer.
The poem’s anger is not directed only at the enemy. It is also directed at those who trust the enemy. The speaker sees them as naïve and dangerously optimistic. The poem repeatedly criticizes the idea of repentance coming from the North. The comparison to Hastings makes the argument clear: the enemy’s repentance is only a tactic, not a genuine change.
The structure reinforces this message. Each stanza builds toward the final moral, which is stated openly at the end. The speaker leaves no room for interpretation. Trusting the enemy’s repentance will lead to disaster. The poem does not present uncertainty or complexity. It presents a single, clear lesson: trust leads to destruction, and only resistance offers safety.
The poem also relies heavily on fear. It describes violence against priests, women, and children, emphasizing vulnerability. These images are meant to provoke emotional reaction. They are not abstract. They are personal and immediate. The reader is meant to imagine themselves or their community in the place of the destroyed city.
What makes the poem effective is its use of narrative to support political argument. Instead of simply telling readers not to trust their enemy, it shows a story where trust leads directly to catastrophe. The historical example gives the argument weight. It suggests that this is not speculation, but proven fact.
At its core, the poem is about distrust. It argues that enemies remain enemies, regardless of what they say. It rejects the idea that reconciliation is possible. Instead, it frames mercy as weakness and suspicion as wisdom. The speaker’s goal is not to explore the possibility of peace, but to convince the reader that peace offered by the enemy is an illusion.