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diff --git a/25502-h/25502-h.htm b/25502-h/25502-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd6040e --- /dev/null +++ b/25502-h/25502-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,18619 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hero-Myths and Legends of the British Race, by Maud Isabel Ebbutt. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + + h1,h2,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + + h3 {text-align: left; clear: both; margin-top: 2em;} /* for section headings */ + + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + a {text-decoration: none;} + + img {border: none;} + + em {font-style: italic;} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-style: normal; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; padding: 1em; margin-top: 3em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; font-style: normal;} + + .dropcap {float: left; padding-right: 3px; font-size: 350%; line-height: 83%;} + /* Plain dropcaps */ + + .caption {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; padding-bottom: 3em;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px; margin-top: 2em;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: .2em; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i11 {display: block; margin-left: 11em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .tdl {text-align: left; vertical-align: top;} /* left align cell */ + .tdc {text-align: center; vertical-align: top;} /* center align cell */ + .tdrt {text-align: right; vertical-align: top;} /* right top align cell */ + .tdrb {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} /* right bottom align cell */ + .tdlsc {text-align: left; vertical-align: top; font-variant: small-caps;} /* left align cell small caps font */ + + .sig {text-align: right; margin-right: 4em;} /* signature aligned right */ + .address {margin-left: 5%; text-indent: -2em;} /* address, move 2nd line right */ + + .smlspace {padding-left: .25em; padding-right: .25em;} + .medspace {padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .space {padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em;} /* spacing for Beowulf verses */ + + .author {text-indent: 18em; padding-bottom: 1.5em; font-style: italic;} /* credits on poetry */ + + .index {padding-top: 2em;} /* spacing for individual letters */ + .in1 {margin-left: 1em;} /* first level indent for index */ + .in2 {margin-left: 2em;} /* second level indent for index */ + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race, by +Maud Isabel Ebbutt + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race + +Author: Maud Isabel Ebbutt + +Release Date: May 17, 2008 [EBook #25502] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HERO-MYTHS *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bbox"> +<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p> + +<p>The Glossary and Index includes a pronunciation of the Anglo-Saxon +names in the text. These include some characters with a macron (straight +line) above, and some with a breve (u-shaped symbol) above. Also used +is the accute accent (´). If these do not display properly, you may need +to adjust your font settings.</p> +</div> + + + +<h1 style="padding-top: 3em;">HERO-MYTHS & LEGENDS<br /> +OF THE BRITISH RACE</h1> + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 3em;"><b>BY</b></p> + +<h2>M. I. EBBUTT M. A.</h2> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 3em; font-size: small;">WITH FIFTY-ONE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY</p> + +<p class="center">J. H. F. BACON A.R.A.<span class="smlspace"> </span>BYAM SHAW<br /> +W. H. MARGETSON R.I.<span class="smlspace"> </span>GERTRUDE<br /> +DEMAIN HAMMOND AND OTHERS</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr01.jpg" width="300" height="249" +alt="A bearded man blows a horn" /> +</div> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 5em;">GEORGE G. HARRAP & COMPANY LTD.<br /> +LONDON<span class="medspace"> </span>CALCUTTA<span class="medspace"> </span>SYDNEY</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr02.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_frontis" id="image_frontis"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Robin Hood and the Black Monk<br /> +William Sewell<br /> +[<i>Page <a href="#Page_331">331</a></i>]</p> + + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Printing details"> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" colspan="2"><i>First published August 1910</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" colspan="2"><i>by <span class="smcap">George G. Harrap & Co.</span></i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" colspan="2"><i>39-41 Parker Street, Kingsway, London, W.C.2</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"><i>Reprinted:</i></td> + <td class="tdl"><i>October 1910</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>September 1911</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>December 1914</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>May 1916</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>December 1917</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>February 1920</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>June 1924</i></td> + </tr> +</table> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 5em;"><i>Printed in Great Britain at <span class="smcap">The Ballantyne Press</span> by</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">Spottiswoode, Ballantyne & Co. Ltd.</span><br /> +<i>Colchester, London & Eton</i><br /></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 5em; padding-bottom: 5em;">TO<br /> +<br /> +<span style="font-size: x-large;">MISS JULIA KENNEDY</span><br /> +<br /> +IN TOKEN OF THE ADMIRATION<br /> +AND AFFECTION OF AN<br /> +OLD PUPIL<br /> +THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></p> + +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>N refashioning, for the pleasure of readers of the +twentieth century, these versions of ancient tales +which have given pleasure to story-lovers of all +centuries from the eighth onward, I feel that some +explanation of my choice is necessary. Men’s conceptions +of the heroic change with changing years, and vary +with each individual mind; hence it often happens that +one person sees in a legend only the central heroism, +while another sees only the inartistic details of mediæval +life which tend to disguise and warp the heroic quality.</p> + +<p>It may be that to some people the heroes I have +chosen do not seem heroic, but there is no doubt that +to the age and generation which wrote or sang of them +they appeared real heroes, worthy of remembrance and +celebration, and it has been my object to come as close +as possible to the mediæval mind, with its elementary +conceptions of honour, loyalty, devotion, and duty. I +have therefore altered the tales as little as I could, +and have tried to put them as fairly as possible before +modern readers, bearing in mind the altered conditions +of things and of intellects to-day.</p> + +<p>In the work of selecting and retelling these stories +I have to acknowledge with most hearty thanks the +help and advice of Mr. F. E. Bumby, B.A., of the +University College, Nottingham, who has been throughout +a most kind and candid censor or critic. His +help has been in every way invaluable. I have also +to acknowledge the generous permission given me by +Mr. W. B. Yeats to write in prose the story of his +beautiful play, “The Countess Cathleen,” and to adorn +it with quotations from that play.</p> + +<p>The poetical quotations are attributed to the authors +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span> +from whose works they are taken wherever it is possible. +When mediæval passages occur which are not +thus attributed they are my own versions from the +original mediæval poems.</p> + +<p class="sig">M. I. EBBUTT</p> + +<p class="address"><span class="smcap">Tanglewood</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Barnt Green</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>July 1910</i></span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="Table of contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl" colspan="2"><small>CHAP.</small></td> + <td class="tdrt"><small>PAGE</small></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"> </td> + <td class="tdlsc">Introduction</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_xvii">xvii</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">I.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Beowulf</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">II.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Dream of Maxen Wledig</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">III.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Story of Constantine and Elene</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">IV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Compassion of Constantine</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">V.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Havelok the Dane</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">VI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Howard the Halt</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">VII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Roland, the Hero of Early France</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">VIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Countess Cathleen</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">IX.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Cuchulain, the Champion of Ireland</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">X.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Tale of Gamelyn</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">William of Cloudeslee</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Black Colin of Loch Awe</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Marriage of Sir Gawayne</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">King Horn</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_286">286</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Robin Hood</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Hereward the Wake</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_334">334</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"> </td> + <td class="tdl">GLOSSARY AND INDEX</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_353">353</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span></p> + +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="Table of contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdrb"><small>PAGE</small></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Robin Hood and the Black Monk (<i>William Sewell</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><i><a href="#image_frontis">Frontispiece</a></i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdrb"><i>To face page</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“The demon of evil, with his fierce ravening, greedily grasped them” (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_4">4</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Beowulf replies haughtily to Hunferth (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_12">12</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Beowulf finds the head of Aschere (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_22">22</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Beowulf shears off the head of Grendel (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_26">26</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The death of Beowulf (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_40">40</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The dream of the Emperor (<i>Byam Shaw</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_46">46</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Queen’s dilemma (<i>Byam Shaw</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_60">60</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">They filled the great vessel of silver with pure water (<i>Byam Shaw</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_70">70</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Havelok sat up surprised” (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_78">78</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Havelok again overthrew the porters” (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_82">82</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“With great joy they fell on their knees” (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_88">88</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Olaf and Sigrid (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_98">98</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Howard leaves the house of Thorbiorn (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_106">106</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“The silver rolled in all directions from his cloak” (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_110">110</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Thorbiorn lifted the huge stone” (<i>J. H. F. Bacon, A.R.A.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_116">116</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Charlemagne (<i>Stella Langdale</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_120">120</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Here sits Charles the King” (<i>Byam Shaw</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_124">124</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Ganelon rode away” (<i>Byam Shaw</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_130">130</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Charlemagne heard it again” (<i>Byam Shaw</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_144">144</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Aude the Fair (<i>Evelyn Paul</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_154">154</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Day by day Cathleen went among them” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_162">162</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span> +The peasant’s story (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_172">172</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Thieves have broken into the treasure-chamber” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_176">176</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Cathleen signed the bond” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_180">180</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“All three drove furiously towards Cruachan” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_190">190</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Three monstrous cats were let into the room” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_192">192</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“The dragon sank towards him, opening its terrible jaws” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_196">196</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“The body of Uath arose” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_200">200</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Go and do your own baking!” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_206">206</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Lords, for Christ’s sake help poor Gamelyn out of prison!” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_214">214</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Then cheer thee, Adam” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_218">218</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Come from the seat of justice!” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_222">222</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“William continued his wonderful archery” (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_232">232</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Adam Bell writes the letter (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_234">234</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The fight at the gate (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_238">238</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">William of Cloudeslee and his son (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_244">244</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Wait for me seven years, dear wife” (<i>Byam Shaw</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_252">252</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“The King blew a loud note on his bugle” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_268">268</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Now you have released me from the spell completely” (<i>W. H. Margetson, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_282">282</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Queen Godhild prays ever for her son Horn (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_288">288</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Horn kills the Saracen Leader (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_298">298</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Horn and his followers disguised as minstrels (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_312">312</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Little John caught the horse by the bridle” (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_316">316</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“I have no money worth offering” (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_320">320</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Sir Richard knelt in courteous salutation” (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_324">324</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span> +“Much shot the monk to the heart” (<i>Patten Wilson</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_330">330</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Her pleading won relief for them” (<i>Gertrude Demain Hammond, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_334">334</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Alftruda (<i>Gertrude Demain Hammond, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_340">340</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Hereward and the Princess (<i>Gertrude Demain Hammond, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_344">344</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Hereward and Sigtryg (<i>Gertrude Demain Hammond, R.I.</i>)</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#image_page_348">348</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</a></span></p> + +<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE writer who would tell again for people of the +twentieth century the legends and stories that +delighted the folk of the thirteenth and fourteenth +centuries finds himself confronted with a vast +mass of material ready to his hand. Unless he exercises +a wise discrimination and has some system of +selection, he becomes lost in the mazes of as enchanted +a land,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Where Truth and Dream walk hand in hand,”<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>as ever bewildered knights of old in days of romance. +Down all the dimly lighted pathways of mediæval literature +mystical figures beckon him in every direction; +fairies, goblins, witches, knights and ladies and giants +entice him, and unless, like Theseus of old, he follows +closely his guiding clue, he will find that he reaches +no goal, attains to no clear vision, achieves no quest. +He will remain spell-bound, captivated by the Middle +Ages—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The life, the delight, and the sorrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of troublous and chivalrous years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That knew not of night nor of morrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hopes or of fears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wars and the woes and the glories<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That quicken, and lighten, and rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the clouds of its chronicled stories<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The passion, the pride, and the pain.”<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Such a golden clue to guide the modern seeker through +the labyrinths of the mediæval mind is that which I have +tried to suggest in the title “<em>Hero</em>-Myths and Legends +of the British Race”—the pursuit and representation +of the ideal hero as the mind of Britain and of early +and mediæval England imagined him, together with +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</a></span> +the study of the characteristics which made this or that +particular person, mythical or legendary, a hero to the +century which sang or wrote about him. The interest +goes deeper when we study, not merely</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Old heroes who could grandly do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As they could greatly dare,”<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>but</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Heroes of our island breed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And men and women of our British birth.”<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“Hero-worship endures for ever while man endures,” +wrote Thomas Carlyle, and this fidelity of men to their +admiration for great heroes is one of the surest tokens +by which we can judge of their own character. Such +as the hero is, such will his worshippers be; and the +men who idolised Robin Hood will be found to have +been men who were themselves in revolt against +oppressive law, or who, finding law powerless to prevent +tyranny, glorified the lawless punishment of wrongs +and the bold denunciation of perverted justice. The +warriors who listened to the saga of Beowulf looked on +physical prowess as the best of all heroic qualities, and +the Normans who admired Roland saw in him the ideal +of feudal loyalty. To every age, and to every nation, +there is a peculiar ideal of heroism, and in the popular +legends of each age this ideal may be found.</p> + +<p>Again, these legends give not only the hero as he +seemed to his age; they also show the social life, the +virtues and vices, the superstitions and beliefs, of earlier +ages embedded in the tradition, as fossils are found in +the uplifted strata of some ancient ocean-bed. They +have ceased to live; but they remain, tokens of a life +long past. So in the hero-legends of our nation we +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">[Pg xix]</a></span> +may find traces of the thoughts and religions of our +ancestors many centuries ago; traces which lie close +to one another in these romances, telling of the nations +who came to these Islands of the West, settled, were +conquered and driven away to make room for other +races whose supremacy has been as brief, till all these +superimposed races have blended into one, to form the +British nation, the most widespread race of modern +times. For</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Britain’s might and Britain’s right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the brunt of British spears”<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>are not the boast of the English race alone. No man in +England now can boast of unmixed descent, but must +perforce trace his family back through many a marriage +of Frank, and Norman, and Saxon, and Dane, and +Roman, and Celt, and even Iberian, back to prehistoric +man—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Scot and Celt and Norman and Dane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the Northman’s sinew and heart and brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Northman’s courage for blessing or bane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are England’s heroes too.”<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When Tennyson sang his greeting at the coming of +Alexandra,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Saxon or Dane or Norman we,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teuton or Celt or whatever we be,”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>he was only recognising a truth which no boast of pure +birth can cover—the truth that the modern Englishman +is a compound of many races, with many characteristics; +and if we would understand him, we must seek +the clue to the riddle in early England and Scotland +and Ireland and Wales, while even France adds her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">[Pg xx]</a></span> +share of enlightenment towards the solution of the +riddle.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The Saxon force, the Celtic fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These are thy manhood’s heritage.”<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Britain, as far as we can trace men in our island, +was first inhabited by cave-men, who have left no +history at all. In the course of ages they passed away +before the Iberians or Ivernians, who came from the +east, and bore a striking resemblance to the Basques. +It may be that some Mongolian tribe, wandering west, +drawn by the instinct which has driven most race-migrations +westward, sent offshoots north and south—one +to brave the dangers of the sea and inhabit Britain +and Ireland, one to cross the Pyrenees and remain +sheltered in their deep ravines; or it may be that +Basques from the Pyrenees, daring the storms of the +Bay of Biscay in their frail coracles, ventured to the +shores of Britain. Short and dark were these sturdy +voyagers, harsh-featured and long-headed, worshipping +the powers of Nature with mysterious and cruel rites of +human sacrifice, holding beliefs in totems and ancestor-worship +and in the superiority of high descent claimed +through the mother to that claimed through the father. +When the stronger and more civilised Celt came he drove +before him these little dark men, he enslaved their survivors +or wedded their women, and in his turn fell into +slavery to the cruel Druidic religion of his subjects. To +these Iberians, and to the Celtic dread of them, we +probably owe all the stories of dwarfs, goblins, elves, +and earth-gnomes which fill our fairy-tale books; and +if we examine carefully the descriptions of the abodes +of these beings we shall find them not inconsistent with +the earth-dwellings, caves, circle huts, or even with the +burial mounds, of the Iberian race.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">[Pg xxi]</a></span> +The race that followed the Iberians, and drove them +out or subdued them, so that they served as slaves where +they had once ruled as lords, was the proud Aryan Celtic +race. Of different tribes, Gaels, Brythons, and Belgæ, +they were all one in spirit, and one in physical feature.</p> + +<p>Tall, blue-eyed, with fair or red hair, they overpowered +in every way the diminutive Iberians, and their tattooing, +while it gave them a name which has often been mistaken +for a national designation (Picts, or painted men), made +them dreadful to their enemies in battle, and ferocious-looking +even in time of peace. Their civilisation was +of a much higher type than that of the Iberians; their +weapons, their war-chariots, their mode of life and their +treatment of women, are all so closely similar to that of +the Greeks of Homer that a theory has been advanced +and ably defended, that the Homeric Greeks were really +invading Celts—Gaelic or Gaulish tribes from the north +of Europe. If it indeed be so, we owe to the Celts a +debt of imperishable culture and civilisation. To them +belongs more especially, in our national amalgam, the +passion for the past, the ardent patriotism, the longing +for spiritual beauty, which raises and relieves the Saxon +materialism.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Though fallen the state of Erin and changed the Scottish land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though small the power of Mona, though unwaked Llewellyn’s band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though Ambrose Merlin’s prophecies are held as idle tales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though Iona’s ruined cloisters are swept by northern gales,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">One in name and in fame<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Are the sea-divided Gaels.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“In Northern Spain and Italy our brethren also dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brave are the traditions of their fathers that they tell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eagle or the Crescent in the dawn of history pales<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the advancing banners of the great Rome-conquering Gaels:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">One in name and in fame<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Are the sea-divided Gaels.”<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">[Pg xxii]</a></span> +It is almost impossible to overestimate the value of +the Celtic contribution to our national literature and +character: the race that gave us Ossian, and Finn, and +Cuchulain, that sang of the sorrowful love and doom of +Deirdre, that told of the pursuit of Diarmit and Grania, +till every dolmen and cromlech in Ireland was associated +with these lovers; the race that preserved for us</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“That grey king whose name, a ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Streams like a cloud, man-shaped, from mountain-peak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cleaves to cairn and cromlech still,”<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>the King Arthur whose Arthur’s Seat overhangs Edinburgh, +whose presence haunts the Lakes, and Wales, +and Cornwall, and the forests of Brittany; the race that +held up for us the image of the Holy Grail—that race +can claim no small share in the moulding of the modern +Briton.</p> + +<p>The Celt, however, had his day of supremacy and +passed: the Roman crushed his power of initiative +and made him helpless and dependent, and the Teuton, +whether as Saxon, Angle, Frisian, or Jute, dwelt in his +homes and ruled as slaves the former owners of the +land. These new-comers were not physically unlike +the Celts whom they dispossessed. Tall and fair, grey-eyed +and sinewy, the Teuton was a hardier, more sturdy +warrior than the Celt: he had not spent centuries of +quiet settlement and imitative civilisation under the +ægis of Imperial Rome: he had not learnt to love +the arts of peace and he cultivated none but those of +war; he was by choice a warrior and a sailor, a wanderer +to other lands, a plougher of the desolate places +of the “vasty deep,” yet withal a lover of home, who +trod at times, with bitter longing for his native land, the +thorny paths of exile. To him physical cowardice was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">[Pg xxiii]</a></span> +the unforgivable sin, next to treachery to his lord; for +the loyalty of thane to his chieftain was a very deep +and abiding reality to the Anglo-Saxon warrior, and +in the early poems of our English race, love for “his +dear lord, his chieftain-friend,” takes the place of that +love of woman which other races felt and expressed. A +quiet death bed was the worst end to a man’s life, in the +Anglo-Saxon’s creed; it was “a cow’s death,” to be +shunned by every means in a man’s power; while a +death in fight, victor or vanquished, was a worthy finish +to a warrior’s life. There was no fear of death itself +in the English hero’s mind, nor of Fate; the former +was the inevitable,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Seeing that Death, a necessary end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will come when it will come,”<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>and the latter a goddess whose decrees must needs +be obeyed with proud submission, but not with meek +acceptance. Perhaps there was little of spiritual insight +in the minds of these Angles and Saxons, little love of +beauty, little care for the amenities of life; but they had +a sturdy loyalty, an uprightness, a brave disregard of +death in the cause of duty, which we can still recognise +in modern Englishmen. To the Saxon belong the tales +where</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">“The warrior kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In height and prowess more than human, strive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again for glory, while the golden lyre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is ever sounding in heroic ears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heroic hymns.”<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When the English (Anglo-Saxons, as we generally call +them) had settled down in England, had united their +warring tribes, and developed a somewhat centralised +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxiv" id="Page_xxiv">[Pg xxiv]</a></span> +government, their whole national existence was imperilled +by the incursions of the Danes. Kindred folk +to the Anglo-Saxons were these Danes, these Vikings +from Christiania Wik, these Northmen from Norway +or Iceland, whose fame went before them, and the dread +of whom inspired the petition in the old Litany of the +Church, “From the fury of the Northmen, good +Lord, deliver us!” Their fair hair and blue or grey +eyes, their tall and muscular frames, bore testimony to +their kinship with the races they harried and plundered, +but their spirit was different from that of the conquered +Teutonic tribes. The Viking <em>loved</em> the sea; it was his +summer home, his field of war and profit. To go “a-summer-harrying” +was the usual employment of the +true Viking, and in the winter only could he enjoy +domestic life and the pleasures of the family circle. +The rapturous fight with the elements, in which the +Northman lived and moved and had his being, gave him +a strain of ruthless cruelty unlike anything in the more +peaceful Anglo-Saxon character: his disregard of death +for himself led to a certain callousness with regard to +human life, and to a certain enjoyment in inflicting +physical anguish. There was an element of Red Indian +ruthlessness in the Viking, which looms large in the +story of the years of Norse ascendancy over Western +Europe. Yet there was also a power of bold and +daring action, of reckless valour, of rapid conception +and execution, which contrasted strongly with the +slower and more placid temperament of the Anglo-Saxon, +and to this Danish strain modern Englishmen +probably owe the power of initiative, the love of adventure, +and the daring action which have made England +the greatest colonising nation on the earth. The +Danish, Norse, or Viking element spread far and wide +in mediæval Europe—Iceland, Normandy (Northman’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxv" id="Page_xxv">[Pg xxv]</a></span> +Land), the Isle of Man, the Hebrides, the east of +Ireland, the Danelagh of East Anglia, and the Cumberland +dales all show traces of the conquering Danish +race; and raider after raider came to England and +stayed, until half of our island was Danish, and even +our royal family became for a time one with the royal +line of Denmark. The acceptance of Christianity by +the Danes in England when Guthrum was baptized +rendered much more easy their amalgamation with the +English; but it was not so in Ireland, where the Round +Towers still stand to show (as some authorities hold) +how the terrified native Irish sheltered from the Danish +fury which nearly destroyed the whole fabric of Irish +Christianity. The legends of Ireland, too, are full of +the terror of the men of “Lochlann,” which is generally +taken to mean Norway; and the great coast cities +of Ireland—Dublin, Cork, Waterford, Wexford, and +others—were so entirely Danish that only the decisive +battle of Clontarf, in which the saintly and victorious +Brian Boru was slain, saved Ireland to Christendom +and curbed the power of the heathen invaders.</p> + +<p>A second wave of Norse invasion swept over England +at the Norman Conquest, and for a time submerged +the native English population. The chivalrous Norman +knights who followed William of Normandy’s sacred +banner, whether from religious zeal or desire of plunder, +were as truly Vikings by race as were the Danes who +settled in the Danelagh. The days when Rolf (Rollo, +or Rou), the Viking chief, won Normandy were not yet +so long gone by that the fierce piratical instincts of his +followers had ceased to influence their descendants: +piety and learning, feudal law and custom, had made +some impression upon the character of the Norman, but +at heart he was still a Northman. The Norman barons +fought for their independence against Duke William +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxvi" id="Page_xxvi">[Pg xxvi]</a></span> +with all the determination of those Norse chiefs who +would not acknowledge the overlordship of Harold +Fairhair, but fled to colonise Iceland when he made +himself King of Norway. The seafaring instincts which +drove the Vikings to harry other lands in like manner +drove the Normans to piratical plundering up and down +the English Channel, and, when they had settled in +England, led to continual sea-fights in the Channel +between English and French, hardy Kentish and Norman, +or Cornish and Breton, sailors, with a common +strain of fighting blood, and a common love of the sea.</p> + +<p>The Norman Conquest of England was but one +instance of Norman activity: Sicily, Italy, Constantinople, +even Antioch, and the Holy Land itself, showed in +time Norman states, Norman laws, Norman civilisation, +and all alike felt the impulse of Norman energy and inspiration. +England lay ready to hand for Norman invasion—the +hope of peaceable succession to the saintly +Edward the Confessor had to be abandoned by William; +the gradual permeation of sluggish England with Norman +earls, churchmen, courtiers, had been comprehended +and checked by Earl Godwin and his sons (themselves +of Danish race); but there still remained the way of +open war and an appeal to religious zeal; and this way +William took. There was genius as well as statesmanship +in the idea of combining a personal claim to the +throne held by Harold the usurper with a crusading +summons against the schismatic and heretical English, +who refused obedience to the true successor of St. Peter. +The success of the idea was its justification: the success +of the expedition proved the need that England had +of some new leaven to energise the sluggish temperament +of her sons. The Norman Conquest not only +revived and quickened, but unified and solidified the +English nation. The tyranny of the Norman nobles, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxvii" id="Page_xxvii">[Pg xxvii]</a></span> +held in check at first only by the tyranny of the +Norman king, was the factor in mediæval English life +that made for a national consciousness; it also helped +the appreciation of the heroism of revolt against tyranny +which is seen in Hereward the Wake, in Robin Hood, +in William of Cloudeslee, and in many other English +hero-rebels; but it gradually led men to a realization of +their own rights as Englishmen. When all men alike +felt themselves sons of England, the days were past +when Norman and Saxon were aliens to each other, +and Norman robber soon became as truly English as +Danish viking, Anglo-Saxon seafarer, or Celtic settler. +Then the full value of the Norman infusion was seen in +quicker intellectual apprehension, nimbler wit, a keener +sense of reverence, a more spiritual piety, a more refined +courtesy, and a more enlightened perception of the value +of law. The materialism of the original Saxon race was +successively modified by many influences, and not least +of these was the Norman Conquest.</p> + +<p>From the Norman Conquest onward England has +welcomed men of many nations—French, Flemings, +Germans, Dutch: men brought by war, by trade, by +love of adventure, by religion; traders, refugees, exiles, +all have found in her a hospitable shelter and a second +home, and all have come to love the “grey old +mother” that counted them among her sons and grew +to think them her own in very truth.</p> + +<p>Geographically, also, we must recognise the admixture +of races in our islands. The farthest western borders +show most strongly the type of man whom we can +imagine the Iberian to have been: Western Ireland, the +Hebrides, Central and South Wales, and Cornwall are +still inhabited by folk of Iberian descent. The blue-eyed +Celt yet dwells in the Highlands and the greater +part of Wales and the Marches—Hereford and Shropshire, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxviii" id="Page_xxviii">[Pg xxviii]</a></span> +and as far as Worcestershire and Cheshire; still +the Dales of Cumberland, the Fen Country, East Anglia, +and the Isle of Man show traces of Danish blood, speech, +manners, and customs; still the slow, stolid Saxon inhabits +the lands south of the Thames from Sussex to +Hampshire and Dorset. The Angle has settled permanently +over the Lowlands of Scotland, with the Celt +along the western fringe, and Flemish blood shows its +traces in Pembroke on the one side (“Little England +beyond Wales”) and in Norfolk on the other.</p> + +<p>With all these nations, all these natures, amalgamated +in our own, it is no wonder that the literature of our +isles contains many different ideals of heroism, changing +according to nationality and epoch. Thus the physical +valour of Beowulf is not the same quality as the valour +of Havelok the Dane, though both are heroes of the +strong arm; and the chivalry of Diarmit is not the same +as the chivalry of Roland. Again, religion has its share +in changing the ideals of a nation, and Constantine, +the warrior of the Early English poem of “Elene,” is +far from being the same in character as the tender-hearted +Constantine of “moral Gower’s” apocryphal +tale. The law-abiding nature of the earliest heroes, +whose obedience to their king and their priest was +absolute, differs almost entirely from the lawlessness of +Gamelyn and Robin Hood, both of whom set church +and king at defiance, and even account it a merit to +revolt from the rule of both. It follows from this that +we shall find our chosen heroes of very different types +and characters; but we shall recognise that each represented +to his own age an ideal of heroism, which that +age loved sufficiently to put into literature, and perpetuate +by the best means in its power. Of many +another hero besides Arthur—of Barbarossa, of Hiawatha, +even of Napoleon—has the tradition grown that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxix" id="Page_xxix">[Pg xxix]</a></span> +he is not dead, but has passed away into the deathless +land, whence he shall come again in his own time. As +Tennyson has sung,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">“Great bards of him will sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hereafter; and dark sayings from of old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ranging and ringing through the minds of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And echoed by old folk beside their fires<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For comfort after their wage-work is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak of the King.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxx" id="Page_xxx"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Lightfoot.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Swinburne.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Gerald Massey.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> J. R. Denning.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> W. W. Campbell.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> C. Roberts.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> T. Darcy McGee.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Tennyson.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Shakespeare, <i>Julius Cæsar</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Tennyson.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER I: BEOWULF</h2> + + +<h3>Introduction</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE figure which meets us as we enter on the +study of Heroes of the British Race is one +which appeals to us in a very special way, since +he is the one hero in whose legend we may see the ideals +of our English forefathers before they left their Continental +home to settle in this island. Opinions may +differ as to the date at which the poem of “Beowulf” +was written, the place in which it was localised, and the +religion of the poet who combined the floating legends +into one epic whole, but all must accept the poem as +embodying the life and feelings of our Forefathers who +dwelt in North Germany on the shores of the North +Sea and of the Baltic. The life depicted, the characters +portrayed, the events described, are such as a simple +warrior race would cherish in tradition and legend as +relics of the life lived by their ancestors in what doubtless +seemed to them the Golden Age. Perhaps stories +of a divine Beowa, hero and ancestor of the English, +became merged in other myths of sun-hero and marsh-demon, +but in any case the stories are now crystallized +around one central human figure, who may even be +considered an historical hero, Beowulf, the thane of +Hygelac, King of the Geats. It is this grand primitive +hero who embodies the ideal of English heroism. Bold +to rashness for himself, prudent for his comrades, +daring, resourceful, knowing no fear, loyal to his king +and his kinsmen, generous in war and in peace, self-sacrificing, +Beowulf stands for all that is best in manhood +in an age of strife. It is fitting that our first +British hero should be physically and mentally strong, +brave to seek danger and brave to look on death and +Fate undaunted, one whose life is a struggle against evil +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +forces, and whose death comes in a glorious victory +over the powers of evil, a victory gained for the sake of +others to whom Beowulf feels that he owes protection +and devotion.</p> + + +<h3>The Story. The Coming and Passing of Scyld</h3> + +<p>Once, long ago, the Danish land owned the sway of +a mighty monarch, Scyld Scefing, the founder of a great +dynasty, the Scyldings. This great king Scyld had +come to Denmark in a mysterious manner, since no +man knew whence he sprang. As a babe he drifted +to the Danish shore in a vessel loaded with treasures; +but no man was with him, and there was no token to +show his kindred and race. When Scyld grew up +he increased the power of Denmark and enlarged her +borders; his fame spread far and wide among men, and +his glory shone undimmed until the day when, full of +years and honours, he died, leaving the throne securely +established in his family. Then the sorrowing Danes +restored him to the mysterious ocean from which he +had come to them. Choosing their goodliest ship, they +laid within it the corpse of their departed king, and +heaped around him all their best and choicest treasures, +until the venerable countenance of Scyld looked to +heaven from a bed of gold and jewels; then they set +up, high above his head, his glorious gold-wrought +banner, and left him alone in state. The vessel was +loosed from the shore where the mourning Danes +bewailed their departing king, and drifted slowly away +to the unknown west from which Scyld had sailed to +his now sorrowing people; they watched until it was +lost in the shadows of night and distance, but no man +under heaven knoweth what shore now holds the +vanished Scyld. The descendants of Scyld ruled and +prospered till the days of his great-grandson Hrothgar, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +one of a family of four, who can all be identified +historically with various Danish kings and princes.</p> + + +<h3>Hrothgar’s Hall</h3> + +<p>Hrothgar was a mighty warrior and conqueror, who +won glory in battle, and whose fame spread wide +among men, so that nobly born warriors, his kinsmen, +were glad to serve as his bodyguard and to fight for +him loyally in strife. So great was Hrothgar’s power +that he longed for some outward sign of the magnificence +of his sway; he determined to build a great hall, +in which he could hold feasts and banquets, and could +entertain his warriors and thanes, and visitors from afar. +The hall rose speedily, vast, gloriously adorned, a great +meeting-place for men; for Hrothgar had summoned +all his people to the work, and the walls towered up +high and majestic, ending in pinnacles and gables +resembling the antlers of a stag. At the great feast +which Hrothgar gave first in his new home the minstrels +chanted the glory of the hall, “Heorot,” “The +Hart,” as the king named it; Hrothgar’s desire was well +fulfilled, that he should build the most magnificent of +banquet-halls. Proud were the mighty warriors who +feasted within it, and proud the heart of the king, who +from his high seat on the daïs saw his brave thanes +carousing at the long tables below him, and the lofty +rafters of the hall rising black into the darkness.</p> + + +<h3>Grendel</h3> + +<p>Day by day the feasting continued, until its noise +and the festal joy of its revellers aroused a mighty +enemy, Grendel, the loathsome fen-monster. This +monstrous being, half-man, half-fiend, dwelt in the +fens near the hill on which Heorot stood. Terrible was +he, dangerous to men, of extraordinary strength, human +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +in shape but gigantic of stature, covered with a green +horny skin, on which the sword would not bite. His +race, all sea-monsters, giants, goblins, and evil demons, +were offspring of Cain, outcasts from the mercy of the +Most High, hostile to the human race; and Grendel +was one of mankind’s most bitter enemies; hence his +hatred of the joyous shouts from Heorot, and his determination +to stop the feasting.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“This the dire mighty fiend,<span class="space"> </span>he who in darkness dwelt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suffered with hatred fierce,<span class="space"> </span>that every day and night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He heard the festal shouts<span class="space"> </span>loud in the lofty hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sound of harp echoed there,<span class="space"> </span>and gleeman’s sweet song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus they lived joyously,<span class="space"> </span>fearing no angry foe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until the hellish fiend<span class="space"> </span>wrought them great woe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grendel that ghost was called,<span class="space"> </span>grisly and terrible,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, hateful wanderer,<span class="space"> </span>dwelt in the moorlands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fens and wild fastnesses;<span class="space"> </span>the wretch for a while abode<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In homes of the giant-race,<span class="space"> </span>since God had cast him out.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When night on the earth fell,<span class="space"> </span>Grendel departed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To visit the lofty hall,<span class="space"> </span>now that the warlike Danes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After the gladsome feast<span class="space"> </span>nightly slept in it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fair troop of warrior-thanes<span class="space"> </span>guarding it found he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heedlessly sleeping,<span class="space"> </span>they recked not of sorrow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The demon of evil,<span class="space"> </span>the grim wight unholy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his fierce ravening,<span class="space"> </span>greedily grasped them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seized in their slumbering<span class="space"> </span>thirty right manly thanes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thence he withdrew again,<span class="space"> </span>proud of his lifeless prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home to his hiding-place,<span class="space"> </span>bearing his booty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In peace to devour it.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr03.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_4" id="image_page_4"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“The demon of evil, with his fierce ravening, greedily +grasped them”</p> + +<p>When dawn broke, and the Danes from their dwellings +around the hall entered Heorot, great was the +lamentation, and dire the dismay, for thirty noble +champions had vanished, and the blood-stained tracks +of the monster showed but too well the fate that had +overtaken them. Hrothgar’s grief was profound, for +he had lost thirty of his dearly loved bodyguard, and +he himself was too old to wage a conflict against the +foe—a foe who repeated night by night his awful deeds, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +in spite of all that valour could do to save the Danes +from his terrible enmity. At last no champion would +face the monster, and the Danes, in despair, deserted +the glorious hall of which they had been so proud. +Useless stood the best of dwellings, for none dared +remain in it, but every evening the Danes left it after +their feast, and slept elsewhere. This affliction endured +for twelve years, and all that time the beautiful hall of +Heorot stood empty when darkness was upon it. By +night the dire fiend visited it in search of prey, and +in the morning his footsteps showed that his deadly +enmity was not yet appeased, but that any effort to use +the hall at night would bring down his fatal wrath on +the careless sleepers.</p> + +<p>Far and wide spread the tidings of this terrible +oppression, and many champions came from afar to +offer King Hrothgar their aid, but none was heroic +enough to conquer the monster, and many a mighty +warrior lost his life in a vain struggle against Grendel. +At length even these bold adventurers ceased to come; +Grendel remained master of Heorot, and the Danes +settled down in misery under the bondage of a perpetual +nightly terror, while Hrothgar grew old in helpless +longing for strength to rescue his people from +their foe.</p> + + +<h3>Beowulf</h3> + +<p>Meanwhile there had come to manhood and full +strength a hero destined to make his name famous for +mighty deeds of valour throughout the whole of the +Teutonic North. In the realm of the Geats (Götaland, +in the south of Sweden) ruled King Hygelac, a mighty +ruler who was ambitious enough to aim at conquering +his neighbours on the mainland of Germany. His +only sister, daughter of the dead king Hrethel, had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +married a great noble, Ecgtheow, and they had one son, +Beowulf, who from the age of seven was brought up +at the Geatish court. The boy was a lad of great +stature and handsome appearance, with fair locks and +gallant bearing; but he greatly disappointed his grandfather, +King Hrethel, by his sluggish character. Beowulf +as a youth had been despised by all for his sloth and +his unwarlike disposition; his good-nature and his +rarely stirred wrath made others look upon him with +scorn, and the mighty stature to which he grew brought +him nothing but scoffs and sneers and insults in the +banquet-hall when the royal feasts were held. Yet +wise men might have seen the promise of great strength +in his powerful sinews and his mighty hands, and the +signs of great force of character in the glance of his +clear blue eyes and the fierceness of his anger when he +was once aroused. At least once already Beowulf had +distinguished himself in a great feat—a swimming-match +with a famous champion, Breca, who had been +beaten in the contest. For this and other victories, and +for the bodily strength which gave Beowulf’s hand-grip +the force of thirty men, the hero was already +famed when the news of Grendel’s ravages reached +Geatland. Beowulf, eager to try his strength against +the monster, and burning to add to his fame, asked +and obtained permission from his uncle, King Hygelac, +to seek the stricken Danish king and offer his help +against Grendel; then, choosing fourteen loyal comrades +and kinsfolk, he took a cheerful farewell of the +Geatish royal family and sailed for Denmark.</p> + +<p>Thus it happened that one day the Warden of the +Coast, riding on his round along the Danish shores, +saw from the white cliffs a strange war-vessel running +in to shore. Her banners were unknown to him, her +crew were strangers and all in war-array, and as the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +Warden watched them they ran the ship into a small +creek among the mountainous cliffs, made her fast to a +rock with stout cables, and then landed and put themselves +in readiness for a march. Though there were +fifteen of the strangers and the Warden was alone, he +showed no hesitation, but, riding boldly down into +their midst, loudly demanded:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“What are ye warlike men<span class="space"> </span>wielding bright weapons,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wearing grey corslets<span class="space"> </span>and boar-adorned helmets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who o’er the water-paths<span class="space"> </span>come with your foaming keel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ploughing the ocean surge?<span class="space"> </span>I was appointed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warden of Denmark’s shores;<span class="space"> </span>watch hold I by the wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That on this Danish coast<span class="space"> </span>no deadly enemy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leading troops over sea<span class="space"> </span>should land to injure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None have here landed yet<span class="space"> </span>more frankly coming<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than this fair company:<span class="space"> </span>and yet ye answer not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The password of warriors,<span class="space"> </span>and customs of kinsmen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne’er have mine eyes beheld<span class="space"> </span>a mightier warrior,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An earl more lordly, than<span class="space"> </span>is he, the chief of you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is no common man;<span class="space"> </span>if looks belie him not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is a hero bold,<span class="space"> </span>worthily weaponed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anon must I know of you<span class="space"> </span>kindred and country,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest ye as spies should go<span class="space"> </span>free on our Danish soil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now ye men from afar,<span class="space"> </span>sailing the surging sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have heard my earnest thought:<span class="space"> </span>best is a quick reply,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I may swiftly know<span class="space"> </span>whence ye have hither come.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>So the aged Warden sat on his horse, gazing attentively +on the faces of the fifteen strangers, but watching +most carefully the countenance of the leader; for the +mighty stature, the clear glance of command, the goodly +armour, and the lordly air of Beowulf left no doubt as +to who was the chieftain of that little band. When the +questions had been asked the leader of the new-comers +moved forward till his mighty figure stood beside the +Warden’s horse, and as he gazed up into the old man’s +eyes he answered: “We are warriors of the Geats, +members of King Hygelac’s bodyguard. My father, well +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +known among men of wisdom, was named Ecgtheow, +a wise counsellor who died full of years and famous for +his wisdom, leaving a memory dear to all good men.”</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“We come to seek thy king<span class="space"> </span>Healfdene’s glorious son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy nation’s noble lord,<span class="space"> </span>with friendly mind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be thou a guardian good<span class="space"> </span>to us strangers here!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We have an errand grave<span class="space"> </span>to the great Danish king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will I hidden hold<span class="space"> </span>what I intend!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou canst tell if it is<span class="space"> </span>truth (as we lately heard)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That some dire enemy,<span class="space"> </span>deadly in evil deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cometh in dark of night,<span class="space"> </span>sateth his secret hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worketh through fearsome awe,<span class="space"> </span>slaughter and shame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can give Hrothgar bold<span class="space"> </span>counsel to conquer him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How he with valiant mind<span class="space"> </span>Grendel may vanquish,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he would ever lose<span class="space"> </span>torment of burning care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If bliss shall bloom again<span class="space"> </span>and woe shall vanish.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The aged Warden replied: “Every bold warrior of +noble mind must recognise the distinction between +words and deeds. I judge by thy speech that you +are all friends to our Danish king; therefore I bid you +go forward, in warlike array, and I myself will guide +you to King Hrothgar; I will also bid my men draw +your vessel up the beach, and make her fast with a +barricade of oars against any high tide. Safe she shall +be until again she bears you to your own land. May +your expedition prove successful.”</p> + +<p>Thus speaking, he turned his horse’s head and led +the way up the steep cliff paths, while the Geats followed +him, resplendent in shining armour, with boar-crests +on their helmets, shields and spears in their +hands, and mighty swords hanging in their belts: a +goodly band were they, as they strode boldly after the +Warden. Anon there appeared a roughly trodden path, +which soon became a stone-paved road, and the way +led on to where the great hall, Heorot, towered aloft, +gleaming white in the sun; very glorious it seemed, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +with its pinnacled gables and its carved beams and +rafters, and the Geats gazed at it with admiration +as the Warden of the Coast said: “Yonder stands our +monarch’s hall, and your way lies clear before you. +May the All-Father keep you safe in the conflict! +Now it is time for me to return; I go to guard our +shores from every foe.”</p> + + +<h3>Hrothgar and Beowulf</h3> + +<p>The little band of Geats, in their shining war-gear, +strode along the stone-paved street, their ring-mail +sounding as they went, until they reached the door of +Heorot; and there, setting down their broad shields +and their keen spears against the wall, they prepared +to enter as peaceful guests the great hall of King +Hrothgar. Wulfgar, one of Hrothgar’s nobles, met +them at the door and asked whence such a splendid band +of warlike strangers, so well armed and so worthily +equipped, had come. Their heroic bearing betokened +some noble enterprise. Beowulf answered: “We are +Hygelac’s chosen friends and companions, and I am +Beowulf. To King Hrothgar, thy master, will I tell +mine errand, if the son of Healfdene will allow us to +approach him.”</p> + +<p>Wulfgar, impressed by the words and bearing of the +hero, replied: “I will announce thy coming to my lord, +and bring back his answer”; and then made his way +up the hall to the high seat where Hrothgar sat on +the daïs amidst his bodyguard of picked champions. +Bowing respectfully, he said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Here are come travelling<span class="space"> </span>over the sea-expanse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Journeying from afar,<span class="space"> </span>heroes of Geatland.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beowulf is the name<span class="space"> </span>of their chief warrior.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is their prayer, my lord,<span class="space"> </span>that they may speak with thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not thou give them<span class="space"> </span>a hasty refusal!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Do not deny them<span class="space"> </span>the gladness of converse!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They in their war-gear seem<span class="space"> </span>worthy of men’s respect.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noble their chieftain seems,<span class="space"> </span>he who the warriors<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hither has guided.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>At these words the aged king aroused himself from +the sad reverie into which he had fallen and answered: +“I knew him as a boy. Beowulf is the son of Ecgtheow, +who wedded the daughter of the Geat King +Hrethel. His fame has come hither before him; seafarers +have told me that he has the might of thirty +men in his hand-grip. Great joy it is to know of his +coming, for he may save us from the terror of Grendel. +If he succeeds in this, great treasures will I bestow +upon him. Hasten; bring in hither Beowulf and his +kindred thanes, and bid them welcome to the Danish +folk!”</p> + +<p>Wulfgar hurried down the hall to the place where +Beowulf stood with his little band; he led them gladly +to the high seat, so that they stood opposite to Hrothgar, +who looked keenly at the well-equipped troop, +and kindly at its leader. A striking figure was Beowulf +as he stood there in his gleaming ring-mail, with +the mighty sword by his side. It was, however, but +a minute that Hrothgar looked in silence, for with +respectful greeting Beowulf spoke:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Hail to thee, Hrothgar King!<span class="space"> </span>Beowulf am I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hygelac’s kinsman<span class="space"> </span>and loyal companion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great deeds of valour<span class="space"> </span>wrought I in my youth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me in my native land<span class="space"> </span>Grendel’s ill-doing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came as an oft-heard tale<span class="space"> </span>told by our sailors.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They say that this bright hall,<span class="space"> </span>noblest of buildings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Standeth to every man<span class="space"> </span>idle and useless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After the evening-light<span class="space"> </span>fails in the heavens.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, Hrothgar, ancient king,<span class="space"> </span>all my friends urged me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warriors and prudent thanes,<span class="space"> </span>that I should seek thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since they themselves had known<span class="space"> </span>my might in battle.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Now I will beg of thee,<span class="space"> </span>lord of the glorious Danes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince of the Scylding race,<span class="space"> </span>Folk-lord most friendly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warden of warriors,<span class="space"> </span>only one boon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not deny it me,<span class="space"> </span>since I have come from far;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I with my men alone,<span class="space"> </span>this troop of heroes good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would without help from thee<span class="space"> </span>cleanse thy great hall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft have I also heard<span class="space"> </span>that the fierce monster<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through his mad recklessness<span class="space"> </span>scorns to use weapons;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore will I forego<span class="space"> </span>(so may King Hygelac,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My friendly lord and king,<span class="space"> </span>find in me pleasure)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I should bear my sword<span class="space"> </span>and my broad yellow shield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the conflict:<span class="space"> </span>with my hand-grip alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ’gainst the foe will strive,<span class="space"> </span>and struggle for my life—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shall endure God’s doom<span class="space"> </span>whom death shall bear away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know that he thinketh<span class="space"> </span>in this hall of conflict<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fearless to eat me,<span class="space"> </span>if he can compass it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he has oft devoured<span class="space"> </span>heroes of Denmark.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then thou wilt not need<span class="space"> </span>my head to hide away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grendel will have me<span class="space"> </span>all mangled and gory;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away will he carry,<span class="space"> </span>if death then shall take me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My body with gore stained<span class="space"> </span>will he think to feast on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On his lone track will bear it<span class="space"> </span>and joyously eat it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mark with my life-blood<span class="space"> </span>his lair in the moorland;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor more for my welfare<span class="space"> </span>wilt thou need to care then.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send thou to Hygelac,<span class="space"> </span>if strife shall take me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That best of byrnies<span class="space"> </span>which my breast guardeth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brightest of war-weeds,<span class="space"> </span>the work of Smith Weland,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left me by Hrethel.<span class="space"> </span>Ever Wyrd has her way.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The aged King Hrothgar, who had listened attentively +while the hero spoke of his plans and of his +possible fate, now greeted him saying: “Thou hast +sought my court for honour and for friendship’s sake, +O Beowulf: thou hast remembered the ancient alliance +between Ecgtheow, thy father, and myself, when I +shielded him, a fugitive, from the wrath of the Wilfings, +paid them the due wergild for his crime, and +took his oath of loyalty to myself. Long ago that +time is; Ecgtheow is dead, and I am old and in +misery. It were too long now to tell of all the woe +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +that Grendel has wrought, but this I may say, that +many a hero has boasted of the great valour he would +display in strife with the monster, and has awaited his +coming in this hall; in the morning there has been no +trace of each hero but the dark blood-stains on benches +and tables. How many times has that happened! +But sit down now to the banquet and tell thy plans, if +such be thy will.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon room was made for the Geat warriors +on the long benches, and Beowulf sat in the place of +honour opposite to the king: great respect was shown +to him, and all men looked with wonder on this mighty +hero, whose courage led him to hazard this terrible +combat. Great carved horns of ale were borne to +Beowulf and his men, savoury meat was placed before +them, and while they ate and drank the minstrels +played and sang to the harp the deeds of men of old. +The mirth of the feast was redoubled now men hoped +that a deliverer had come indeed.</p> + + +<h3>The Quarrel</h3> + +<p>Among all the Danes who were rejoicing over Beowulf’s +coming there was one whose heart was sad and +his brow gloomy—one thane whom jealousy urged to +hate any man more distinguished than himself. Hunferth, +King Hrothgar’s orator and speech-maker, from +his official post at Hrothgar’s feet watched Beowulf +with scornful and jealous eyes. He waited until a pause +came in the clamour of the feast, and suddenly spoke, +coldly and contemptuously: “Art thou that Beowulf +who strove against Breca, the son of Beanstan, when +ye two held a swimming contest in the ocean and +risked your lives in the deep waters? In vain all +your friends urged you to forbear—ye would go on +the hazardous journey; ye plunged in, buffeting the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +wintry waves through the rising storm. Seven days +and nights ye toiled, but Breca overcame thee: he had +greater strength and courage. Him the ocean bore to +shore, and thence he sought his native land, and the +fair city where he ruled as lord and chieftain. Fully +he performed his boast against thee. So I now look +for a worse issue for thee, for thou wilt find Grendel +fiercer in battle than was Breca, if thou darest await +him this night.”</p> + +<p>Beowulf’s brow flushed with anger as he replied +haughtily: “Much hast thou spoken, friend Hunferth, +concerning Breca and our swimming contest; but belike +thou art drunken, for wrongly hast thou told the tale. +A youthful folly of ours it was, when we two boasted +and challenged each other to risk our lives in the +ocean; that indeed we did. Naked swords we bore in +our hands as we swam, to defend ourselves against the +sea-monsters, and we floated together, neither outdistancing +the other, for five days, when a storm drove us +apart. Cold were the surging waves, bitter the north +wind, rough was the swelling flood, under the darkening +shades of night. Yet this was not the worst: the +sea-monsters, excited by the raging tempest, rushed +at me with their deadly tusks and bore me to the +abyss. Well was it then for me that I wore my well-woven +ring-mail, and had my keen sword in hand; +with point and edge I fought the deadly beasts, and +killed them. Many a time the hosts of monsters bore +me to the ocean-bottom, but I slew numbers among +them, and thus we battled all the night, until in the +morning came light from the east, and I could see the +windy cliffs along the shore, and the bodies of the +slain sea-beasts floating on the surge. Nine there +were of them, for Wyrd is gracious to the man who +is valiant and unafraid. Never have I heard of a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +sterner conflict, nor a more unhappy warrior lost in +the waters; yet I saved my life, and landed on the +shores of Finland. Breca wrought not so mightily +as I, nor have I heard of such warlike deeds on thy +part, even though thou, O Hunferth, didst murder +thy brothers and nearest kinsmen.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Truly I say to thee,<span class="space"> </span>O son of Ecglaf bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grendel the grisly fiend<span class="space"> </span>ne’er dared have wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many miseries,<span class="space"> </span>such shame and anguish dire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thy lord, Hrothgar old,<span class="space"> </span>in his bright Heorot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hadst thou shown valiant mood,<span class="space"> </span>sturdy and battle-fierce,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thou now boastest.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 417px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr04.jpg" width="417" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_12" id="image_page_12"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Beowulf replies haughtily to Hunferth</p> + +<p>Very wroth was Hunferth over the reminder of his +former wrongdoing and the implied accusation of +cowardice, but he had brought it on himself by his +unwise belittling of Beowulf’s feat, and the applause +of both Danes and Geats showed him that he dared no +further attack the champion; he had to endure in silence +Beowulf’s boast that he and his Geats would that night +await Grendel in the hall, and surprise him terribly, +since the fiend had ceased to expect any resistance from +the warlike Danes. The feast continued, with laughter +and melody, with song and boast, until the door from the +women’s bower, in the upper end of the hall, opened +suddenly, and Hrothgar’s wife, the fair and gracious +Queen Wealhtheow, entered. The tumult lulled for a +short space, and the queen, pouring mead into a goblet, +presented it to her husband; joyfully he received +and drank it. Then she poured mead or ale for each +man, and in due course came to Beowulf, as to the +guest of honour. Gratefully Wealhtheow greeted the +lordly hero, and thanked him for the friendship which +brought him to Denmark to risk his life against +Grendel. Beowulf, rising respectfully and taking the +cup from the queen’s hand, said with dignity:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +<span class="i0">“This I considered well<span class="space"> </span>when I the ocean sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sailed in the sea-vessel<span class="space"> </span>with my brave warriors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I alone would win<span class="space"> </span>thy folk’s deliverance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or in the fight would fall<span class="space"> </span>fast in the demon’s grip.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Needs must I now perform<span class="space"> </span>knightly deeds in this hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or here must meet my doom<span class="space"> </span>in darksome night.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Well pleased, Queen Wealhtheow went to sit beside +her lord, where her gracious smile cheered the assembly. +Then the clamour of the feast was renewed, until +Hrothgar at length gave the signal for retiring. Indeed, +it was necessary to leave Heorot when darkness +fell, for the fiend came each night when sunlight faded. +So the whole assembly arose, each man bade his comrades +“Good night,” and the Danes dispersed; but +Hrothgar addressed Beowulf half joyfully, half sadly, +saying:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Never before have I<span class="space"> </span>since I held spear and shield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Given o’er to any man<span class="space"> </span>this mighty Danish hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save now to thee alone.<span class="space"> </span>Keep thou and well defend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This best of banquet-halls.<span class="space"> </span>Show forth thy hero-strength,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call up thy bravery,<span class="space"> </span>watch for the enemy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt not lack gifts of worth<span class="space"> </span>if thou alive remain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winner in this dire strife.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Thus Hrothgar departed, to seek slumber in a less +dangerous abode, where, greatly troubled in mind, he +awaited the dawn with almost hopeless expectation, +and Beowulf and his men prepared themselves for the +perils of the night.</p> + + +<h3>Beowulf and Grendel</h3> + +<p>The fourteen champions of the Geats now made +ready for sleep; but while the others lay down in their +armour, with weapons by their sides, Beowulf took off +his mail, unbelted his sword, unhelmed himself, and +gave his sword to a thane to bear away. For, as he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +said to his men, “I will strive against this fiend weaponless. +With no armour, since he wears none, will I wrestle +with him, and try to overcome him. I will conquer, +if I win, by my hand-grip alone; and the All-Father +shall judge between us, and grant the victory to whom +He will.”</p> + +<p>The Geats then lay down—brave men who slept +calmly, though they knew they were risking their lives, +for none of them expected to see the light of day again, +or to revisit their native land: they had heard, too, +much during the feast of the slaughter which Grendel +had wrought. So night came, the voices of men grew +silent, and the darkness shrouded all alike—calm +sleepers, anxious watchers, and the deadly, creeping foe.</p> + +<p>When everything was still Grendel came. From +the fen-fastnesses, by marshy tracts, through mists and +swamp-born fogs, the hideous monster made his way to +the house he hated so bitterly. Grendel strode fiercely +to the door of Heorot, and would fain have opened it +as usual, but it was locked and bolted. Then the fiend’s +wrath was roused; he grasped the door with his mighty +hands and burst it in. As he entered he seemed to +fill the hall with his monstrous shadow, and from his +eyes shone a green and uncanny light, which showed +him a troop of warriors lying asleep in their war-gear; +it seemed that all slept, and the fiend did not notice +that one man half rose, leaning on his elbow and +peering keenly into the gloom. Grendel hastily put +forth his terrible scaly hand and seized one hapless +sleeper. Tearing him limb from limb, so swiftly that +his cry of agony was unheard, he drank the warm blood +and devoured the flesh; then, excited by the hideous +food, he reached forth again. Great was Grendel’s +amazement to find that his hand was seized in a grasp +such as he had never felt before, and to know that he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +had at last found an antagonist whom even he must +fight warily. Beowulf sprang from his couch as the +terrible claws of the monster fell upon him, and +wrestled with Grendel in the darkness and gloom of +the unlighted hall, where the flicker of the fire had +died down to a dim glow in the dull embers. That +was a dreadful struggle, as the combatants, in deadly +conflict, swayed up and down the hall, overturning +tables and benches, trampling underfoot dishes and +goblets in the darkling wrestle for life. The men of +the Geats felt for their weapons, but they could not +see the combatants distinctly, though they heard the +panting and the trampling movements, and occasionally +caught a gleam from the fiend’s eyes as his face +was turned towards them. When they struck their +weapons glanced harmlessly off Grendel’s scaly hide. +The struggle continued for some time, and the hall +was an utter wreck within, when Grendel, worsted for +once, tried to break away and rush out into the night; +but Beowulf held him fast in the grip which no man on +earth could equal or endure, and the monster writhed +in anguish as he vainly strove to free himself—vainly, +for Beowulf would not loose his grip. Suddenly, +with one great cry, Grendel wrenched himself free, and +staggered to the door, leaving behind a terrible blood-trail, +for his arm and shoulder were torn off and left +in the victor’s grasp. So the monster fled wailing +over the moors to his home in the gloomy mere, and +Beowulf sank panting on a shattered seat, scarce believing +in his victory, until his men gathered round, +bringing a lighted torch, by the flaring gleam of which +the green, scaly arm of Grendel looked ghastly and +threatening. But the monster had fled, and after such +a wound as the loss of his arm and shoulder must +surely die; therefore the Geats raised a shout of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +triumph, and then took the hateful trophy and fastened +it high up on the roof of the hall, that all who entered +might see the token of victory and recognise that the +Geat hero had performed his boast, that he would conquer +with no weapon, but by the strength of his hands +alone.</p> + +<p>In the morning many a warrior came to Heorot to +learn the events of the night, and all saw the grisly +trophy, praised Beowulf’s might and courage, and +followed with eager curiosity the blood-stained track of +the fleeing demon till it came to the brink of the +gloomy lake, where it disappeared, though the waters +were stained with gore, and boiled and surged with +endless commotion. There on the shore the Danes +rejoiced over the death of their enemy, and returned to +Heorot care-free and glad at heart. Meanwhile Beowulf +and his Geats stayed in Heorot, for Hrothgar had not +yet come to receive an account of their night-watch. +Throughout the day there was feasting and rejoicing, +with horse-races, and wrestling, and manly contests of +skill and endurance; or the Danes collected around +the bard as he chanted the glory of Sigmund and his +son Fitela. Then came King Hrothgar himself, with +his queen and her maiden train, and they paused to +gaze with horror on the dreadful trophy, and to turn +with gratitude to the hero who had delivered them +from this evil spirit. Hrothgar said: “Thanks be to +the All-Father for this happy sight! Much sorrow +have I endured at the hands of Grendel, many warriors +have I lost, many uncounted years of misery have I +lived, but now my woe has an end! Now a youth +has performed, with his unaided strength, what all we +could not compass with our craft! Well might thy +father, O Beowulf, rejoice in thy fame! Well may +thy mother, if she yet lives, praise the All-Father for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +the noble son she bore! A son indeed shalt thou be +to me in love, and nothing thou desirest shalt thou +lack, that I can give thee. Often have I rewarded less +heroic deeds with great gifts, and to thee I can deny +nothing.”</p> + +<p>Beowulf answered: “We have performed our +boast, O King, and have driven away the enemy. I +intended to force him down on one of the beds, and +to deprive him of his life by mere strength of my +hand-grip, but in this I did not succeed, for Grendel +escaped from the hall. Yet he left here with me his +hand, his arm, and shoulder as a token of his presence, +and as the ransom with which he bought off the rest +of his loathsome body; yet none the longer will he +live thereby, since he bears with him so deadly a +wound.”</p> + +<p>Then the hall was cleared of the traces of the conflict +and hasty preparation was made for a splendid banquet. +There was joy in Heorot. The Danes assembled once +again free from fear in their splendid hall, the walls +were hung with gold-wrought embroideries and hangings +of costly stuffs, while richly chased goblets shone +on the long tables, and men’s tongues waxed loud as +they discussed and described the heroic struggle of the +night before. Beowulf and King Hrothgar sat on the +high seats opposite to each other, and their men, Danes +and Geats, sitting side by side, shouted and cheered and +drank deeply to the fame of Beowulf. The minstrels +sang of the Fight in Finnsburg and the deeds of Finn +and Hnæf, of Hengest and Queen Hildeburh. Long +was the chant, and it roused the national pride of the +Danes to hear of the victory of their Danish forefathers +over Finn of the Frisians; and merrily the +banquet went forward, gladdened still more by the +presence of Queen Wealhtheow. Now Hrothgar +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +showed his lavish generosity and his thankfulness by +the gifts with which he loaded the Geat chief; and not +only Beowulf, but every man of the little troop. Beowulf +received a gold-embroidered banner, a magnificent +sword, helmet, and corslet, a goblet of gold, and eight +fleet steeds. On the back of the best was strapped a +cunningly wrought saddle, Hrothgar’s own, with gold +ornaments. When the Geat hero had thanked the +king fittingly, Queen Wealhtheow arose from her seat, +and, lifting the great drinking-cup, offered it to her +lord, saying:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Take thou this goblet,<span class="space"> </span>my lord and my ruler,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O giver of treasure,<span class="space"> </span>O gold-friend of heroes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And speak to the Geats<span class="space"> </span>fair speeches of kindness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be mirthful and joyous,<span class="space"> </span>for so should a man be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Geats be gracious,<span class="space"> </span>mindful of presents<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now that from far and near<span class="space"> </span>thou hast firm peace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tidings have come to me<span class="space"> </span>that thou for son wilt take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This mighty warrior<span class="space"> </span>who has cleansed Heorot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brightest of banquet-halls!<span class="space"> </span>Enjoy while thou mayest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These manifold pleasures,<span class="space"> </span>and leave to thy kinsmen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy lands and thy lordships<span class="space"> </span>when thou must journey forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet thy death.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Turning to Beowulf, the queen said: “Enjoy +thy reward, O dear Beowulf, while thou canst, and +live noble and blessed! Keep well thy widespread +fame, and be a friend to my sons in time to come, +should they ever need a protector.” Then she gave +him two golden armlets, set with jewels, costly rings, a +corslet of chain-mail and a wonderful jewelled collar of +exquisite ancient workmanship, and, bidding them continue +their feasting, with her maidens she left the hall. +The feast went on till Hrothgar also departed to his +dwelling, and left the Danes, now secure and careless, +to prepare their beds, place each warrior’s shield at the +head, and go to sleep in their armour ready for an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +alarm. Meanwhile Beowulf and the Geats were joyfully +escorted to another lodging, where they slept +soundly without disturbance.</p> + + +<h3>Grendel’s Mother</h3> + +<p>In the darkness of the night an avenger came to +Heorot, came in silence and mystery as Grendel had +done, with thoughts of murder and hatred raging in her +heart. Grendel had gone home to die, but his mother, +a fiend scarcely less terrible than her son, yet lived to +avenge his death. She arose from her dwelling in the +gloomy lake, followed the fen paths and moorland +ways to Heorot, and opened the door. There was a +horrible panic when her presence became known, and +men ran hither and thither vainly seeking to attack +her; yet there was less terror among them than +before when they saw the figure of a horrible woman. +In spite of all, the monster seized Aschere, one of +King Hrothgar’s thanes, and bore him away to the +fens, leaving a house of lamentation where men had +feasted so joyously a few hours before. The news was +brought to King Hrothgar, who bitterly lamented the +loss of his wisest and dearest counsellor, and bade +them call Beowulf to him, since he alone could help in +this extremity. When Beowulf stood before the king +he courteously inquired if his rest had been peaceful. +Hrothgar answered mournfully: “Ask me not of +peace, for care is renewed in Heorot. Dead is +Aschere, my best counsellor and friend, the truest of +comrades in fight and in council. Such as Aschere +was should a true vassal be! A deadly fiend has +slain him in Heorot, and I know not whither she has +carried his lifeless body. This is doubtless her vengeance +for thy slaying of Grendel; he is dead, and his +kinswoman has come to avenge him.”</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +<span class="i0">“I have heard it reported<span class="space"> </span>by some of my people<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That they have looked on<span class="space"> </span>two such unearthly ones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Huge-bodied march-striders<span class="space"> </span>holding the moor wastes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of them seemed to be<span class="space"> </span>shaped like a woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her fellow in exile<span class="space"> </span>bore semblance of manhood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though huger his stature<span class="space"> </span>than man ever grew to:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In years that are long gone by<span class="space"> </span>Grendel they named him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But know not his father<span class="space"> </span>nor aught of his kindred.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus these dire monsters<span class="space"> </span>dwell in the secret lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haunt the hills loved by wolves,<span class="space"> </span>the windy nesses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dangerous marshy paths,<span class="space"> </span>where the dark moorland stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Neath the o’erhanging cliffs<span class="space"> </span>downwards departeth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sinks in the sombre earth.<span class="space"> </span>Not far remote from us<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Standeth the gloomy mere,<span class="space"> </span>round whose shores cluster<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Groves with their branches mossed,<span class="space"> </span>hoary with lichens grey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wood firmly rooted<span class="space"> </span>o’ershadows the water.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a wonder seen<span class="space"> </span>nightly by wanderers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flame in the waterflood:<span class="space"> </span>liveth there none of men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ancient or wise enough<span class="space"> </span>to know its bottom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though the poor stag may be<span class="space"> </span>hard by the hounds pursued,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though he may seek the wood,<span class="space"> </span>chased by his cruel foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet will he yield his life<span class="space"> </span>to hunters on the brink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere he will hide his head<span class="space"> </span>in the dark waters.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis an uncanny place.<span class="space"> </span>Thence the surge swelleth up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark to the heavens above,<span class="space"> </span>when the wind stirreth oft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terrible driving storms,<span class="space"> </span>till the air darkens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The skies fall to weeping.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Then Hrothgar burst forth in uncontrollable emotion: +“O Beowulf, help us if thou canst! Help is +only to be found in thee. But yet thou knowest not +the dangerous place thou must needs explore if thou +seek the fiend in her den. I will richly reward thy valour +if thou returnest alive from this hazardous journey.”</p> + +<p>Beowulf was touched by the sorrow of the grey-haired +king, and replied:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Grieve not, O prudent King!<span class="space"> </span>Better it is for each<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he avenge his friend,<span class="space"> </span>than that he mourn him much.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each man must undergo<span class="space"> </span>death at the end of life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let him win while he may<span class="space"> </span>warlike fame in the world!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That is best after death<span class="space"> </span>for the slain warrior.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +“Arise, my lord; let us scan the track left by the +monster, for I promise thee I will never lose it, wheresoever +it may lead me. Only have patience yet for +this one day of misery, as I am sure thou wilt.”</p> + +<p>Hrothgar sprang up joyously, almost youthfully, +and ordered his horse to be saddled; then, with Beowulf +beside him, and a mixed throng of Geats and +Danes following, he rode away towards the home +of the monsters, the dread lake which all men +shunned. The blood-stained tracks were easy to see, +and the avengers moved on swiftly till they came to +the edge of the mere, and there, with grief and horror, +saw the head of Aschere lying on the bank.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr05.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_22" id="image_page_22"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Beowulf finds the head of Aschere</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The lake boiled with blood,<span class="space"> </span>with hot welling gore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The warriors gazed awe-struck,<span class="space"> </span>and the dread horn sang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From time to time fiercely<span class="space"> </span>eager defiance.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The warriors sat down there,<span class="space"> </span>and saw on the water<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea-dragons swimming<span class="space"> </span>to search the abysses.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They saw on the steep nesses<span class="space"> </span>sea-monsters lying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snakes and weird creatures:<span class="space"> </span>these madly shot away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrathful and venomous<span class="space"> </span>when the sound smote their ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blast of the war-horn.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>As Beowulf stood on the shore and watched the uncouth +sea-creatures, serpents, nicors, monstrous beasts +of all kinds, he suddenly drew his bow and shot one of +them to the heart. The rest darted furiously away, and +the thanes were able to drag the carcase of the slain +beast on shore, where they surveyed it with wonder.</p> + + +<h3>The Fight with Grendel’s Mother</h3> + +<p>Meanwhile Beowulf had made ready for his task. +He trusted to his well-woven mail, the corslet fitting +closely to his body and protecting his breast, the shining +helm guarding his head, bright with the boar-image +on the crest, and the mighty sword Hrunting, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +which Hunferth, his jealousy forgotten in admiration, +pressed on the adventurous hero.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“That sword was called Hrunting,<span class="space"> </span>an ancient heritage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steel was the blade itself,<span class="space"> </span>tempered with poison-twigs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hardened with battle-blood:<span class="space"> </span>never in fight it failed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Any who wielded it,<span class="space"> </span>when he would wage a strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dire battlefield,<span class="space"> </span>folk-moot of enemies.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When Beowulf stood ready with naked sword in +hand, he turned and looked at his loyal followers, his +friendly hosts, the grey old King Hrothgar, the sun +and the green earth, which he might never see again; +but it was with no trace of weakness or fear that he +spoke:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Forget not, O noble<span class="space"> </span>kinsman of Healfdene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illustrious ruler,<span class="space"> </span>gold-friend of warriors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What we two settled<span class="space"> </span>when we spake together,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I for thy safety should<span class="space"> </span>end here my life-days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou wouldst be to me,<span class="space"> </span>though dead, as a father.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be to my kindred thanes,<span class="space"> </span>my battle-comrades,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A worthy protector<span class="space"> </span>should death o’ertake me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do thou, dear Hrothgar,<span class="space"> </span>send all these treasures here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which thou hast given me,<span class="space"> </span>to my king, Hygelac.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then may the Geat king,<span class="space"> </span>brave son of Hrethel dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See by the gold and gems,<span class="space"> </span>know by the treasures there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I found a generous lord,<span class="space"> </span>whom I loved in my life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give thou to Hunferth too<span class="space"> </span>my wondrous old weapon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sword with its graven blade;<span class="space"> </span>let the right valiant man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have the keen war-blade:<span class="space"> </span>I will win fame with his,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Hrunting, noble brand,<span class="space"> </span>or death shall take me.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Beowulf dived downward, as it seemed to him, for +the space of a day ere he could perceive the floor of +that sinister lake, and all that time he had to fight the +sea-beasts, for they, attacking him with tusk and horn, +strove to break his ring-mail, but in vain. As Beowulf +came near the bottom he felt himself seized in +long, scaly arms of gigantic strength. The fierce claws +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +of the wolfish sea-woman strove eagerly to reach his +heart through his mail, but in vain; so the she-wolf +of the waters, a being awful and loathsome, bore him +to her abode, rushing through thick clusters of horrible +sea-beasts.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The hero now noticed<span class="space"> </span>he was in some hostile hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where him the water-stream<span class="space"> </span>no whit might injure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor for the sheltering roof<span class="space"> </span>the rush of the raging flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever could touch him.<span class="space"> </span>He saw the strange flickering flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weird lights in the water,<span class="space"> </span>shining with livid sheen:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw, too, the ocean-wolf,<span class="space"> </span>the hateful sea-woman.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Terrible and almost superhuman was the contest +which now followed: the awful sea-woman flung Beowulf +down on his back and stabbed at him with point +and edge of her broad knife, seeking some vulnerable +point; but the good corslet resisted all her efforts, and +Beowulf, exerting his mighty force, overthrew her and +sprang to his feet. Angered beyond measure, he +brandished the flaming sword Hrunting, and flashed +one great blow at her head which would have killed +her had her scales and hair been vulnerable; but alas! +the edge of the blade turned on her scaly hide, and the +blow failed. Wrathfully Beowulf cast aside the useless +sword, and determined to trust once again to his hand-grip. +Grendel’s mother now felt, in her turn, the +deadly power of Beowulf’s grasp, and was borne to +the ground; but the struggle continued long, for Beowulf +was weaponless, since the sword failed in its work. +Yet some weapon he must have.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“So he gazed at the walls,<span class="space"> </span>saw there a glorious sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An old brand gigantic,<span class="space"> </span>trusty in point and edge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An heirloom of heroes;<span class="space"> </span>that was the best of blades,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Splendid and stately,<span class="space"> </span>the forging of giants;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it was huger than<span class="space"> </span>any of human race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could bear to battle-strife,<span class="space"> </span>save Beowulf only.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +This mighty sword, a relic of earlier and greater +races, brought new hope to Beowulf. Springing up, he +snatched it from the wall and swung it fiercely round +his head. The blow fell with crushing force on the +neck of the sea-woman, the dread wolf of the abyss, +and broke the bones. Dead the monster sank to the +ground, and Beowulf, standing erect, saw at his feet +the lifeless carcase of his foe. The hero still grasped +his sword and looked warily along the walls of the +water-dwelling, lest some other foe should emerge +from its recesses; but as he gazed Beowulf saw his +former foe, Grendel, lying dead on a bed in some +inner hall. He strode thither, and, seizing the corpse +by the hideous coiled locks, shore off the head to carry +to earth again. The poisonous hot blood of the +monster melted the blade of the mighty sword, and +nothing remained but the hilt, wrought with curious +ornaments and signs of old time. This hilt and Grendel’s +head were all that Beowulf carried off from the water-fiends’ +dwelling; and laden with these the hero sprang +up through the now clear and sparkling water.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr06.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_26" id="image_page_26"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Beowulf shears off the head of Grendel</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Danes and Geats had waited long +for his reappearance. When the afternoon was well +advanced the Danes departed sadly, lamenting the +hero’s death, for they concluded no man could have +survived so long beneath the waters; but his loyal +Geats sat there still gazing sadly at the waves, and +hoping against all hope that Beowulf would reappear. +At length they saw changes in the mere—the blood +boiling upwards in the lake, the quenching of the unholy +light, then the flight of the sea-monsters and a +gradual clearing of the waters, through which at last +they could see their lord uprising. How gladly +they greeted him! What awe and wonder seized +them as they surveyed his dreadful booty, the ghastly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +head of Grendel and the massive hilt of the gigantic +sword! How eagerly they listened to his story, and +how they vied with one another for the glory of bearing +his armour, his spoils, and his weapons back over +the moorlands and the fens to Heorot. It was a +proud and glad troop that followed Beowulf into the +hall, and up through the startled throng until they laid +down before the feet of King Hrothgar the hideous +head of his dead foe, and Beowulf, raising his voice that +all might hear above the buzz and hum of the great +banquet-hall, thus addressed the king:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Lo! we this sea-booty,<span class="space"> </span>O wise son of Healfdene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord of the Scyldings, have<span class="space"> </span>brought for thy pleasure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In token of triumph,<span class="space"> </span>as thou here seest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From harm have I hardly<span class="space"> </span>escaped with my life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The war under water<span class="space"> </span>sustained I with trouble,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The conflict was almost<span class="space"> </span>decided against me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If God had not guarded me!<span class="space"> </span>Nought could I conquer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Hrunting in battle,<span class="space"> </span>though ’tis a doughty blade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the gods granted me<span class="space"> </span>that I saw suddenly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hanging high in the hall<span class="space"> </span>a bright brand gigantic:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So seized I and swung it<span class="space"> </span>that in the strife I slew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lords of the dwelling.<span class="space"> </span>The mighty blade melted fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the hot boiling blood,<span class="space"> </span>the poisonous battle-gore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the hilt have I here<span class="space"> </span>borne from the hostile hall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have avenged the crime,<span class="space"> </span>the death of the Danish folk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As it behovèd me.<span class="space"> </span>Now can I promise thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou in Heorot<span class="space"> </span>care-free mayest slumber<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all thy warrior-troop<span class="space"> </span>and all thy kindred thanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young and the aged:<span class="space"> </span>thou needst not fear for them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death from these mortal foes,<span class="space"> </span>as thou of yore hast done.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>King Hrothgar was now more delighted than ever at +the return of his friend and the slaughter of his foes. +He gazed in delight and wonder at the gory head of +the monster, and the gigantic hilt of the weapon which +struck it off. Then, taking the glorious hilt, and scanning +eagerly the runes which showed its history, as the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +tumult stilled in the hall, and all men listened for his +speech, he broke out: “Lo! this may any man say, +who maintains truth and right among his people, that +good though he may be this hero is even better! Thy +glory is widespread, Beowulf my friend, among thine +own and many other nations, for thou hast fulfilled all +things by patience and prudence. I will surely perform +what I promised thee, as we agreed before; and +I foretell of thee that thou wilt be long a help and +protection to thy people.”</p> + +<p>King Hrothgar spoke long and eloquently while all +men listened, for he reminded them of mighty warriors +of old who had not won such glorious fame, and +warned them against pride and lack of generosity and +self-seeking; and then, ending with thanks and fresh +gifts to Beowulf, he bade the feast continue with increased +jubilation. The tumultuous rejoicing lasted +till darkness settled on the land, and when it ended all +retired to rest free from fear, since no more fiendish +monsters would break in upon their slumbers; gladly +and peacefully the night passed, and with the morn +came Beowulf’s resolve to return to his king and his +native land.</p> + +<p>When Beowulf had come to this decision he went to +Hrothgar and said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Now we sea-voyagers<span class="space"> </span>come hither from afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must utter our intent<span class="space"> </span>to seek King Hygelac.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here were we well received,<span class="space"> </span>well hast thou treated us.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If on this earth I can<span class="space"> </span>do more to win thy love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O prince of warriors,<span class="space"> </span>than I have wrought as yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here stand I ready now<span class="space"> </span>weapons to wield for thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I shall ever hear<span class="space"> </span>o’er the encircling flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That any neighbouring foes<span class="space"> </span>threaten thy nation’s fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Grendel grim before,<span class="space"> </span>swift will I bring to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thousands of noble thanes,<span class="space"> </span>heroes to help thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know of Hygelac,<span class="space"> </span>King of the Geat folk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he will strengthen me<span class="space"> </span>(though he is young in years)<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +<span class="i0">In words and warlike deeds<span class="space"> </span>to bear my warrior-spear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the ocean surge,<span class="space"> </span>when arms would serve thy need,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift to thine aid.<span class="space"> </span>If thy son Hrethric young<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes to the Geat court,<span class="space"> </span>there to gain skill in arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then will he surely find<span class="space"> </span>many friends waiting him:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better in distant lands<span class="space"> </span>learneth by journeying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who is valiant.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Hrothgar was greatly moved by the words of the +Geat hero and his promise of future help. He wondered +to find such wisdom in so young a warrior, and felt +that the Geats could never choose a better king if battle +should cut off the son of Hygelac, and he renewed his +assurance of continual friendship between the two +countries and of enduring personal affection. Finally, +with fresh gifts of treasure and with tears of regret +Hrothgar embraced Beowulf and bade him go speedily +to his ship, since a friend’s yearning could not retain him +longer from his native land. So the little troop of Geats +with their gifts and treasures marched proudly to their +vessel and sailed away to Geatland, their dragon-prowed +ship laden with armour and jewels and steeds, tokens +of remembrance and thanks from the grateful Danes.</p> + + +<h3>Beowulf’s Return</h3> + +<p>Blithe-hearted were the voyagers, and gaily the ship +danced over the waves, as the Geats strained their +eyes towards the cliffs of their home and the well-known +shores of their country. When their vessel +approached the land the coast-warden came hurrying +to greet them, for he had watched the ocean day and +night for the return of the valiant wanderers. Gladly +he welcomed them, and bade his underlings help to bear +their spoils up to the royal palace, where King Hygelac, +himself young and valiant, awaited his victorious kinsman, +with his beauteous queen, Hygd, beside him. +Then came Beowulf, treading proudly the rocky paths +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +to the royal abode, for messengers had gone in advance +to announce to the king his nephew’s success, and a +banquet was being prepared, where Beowulf would sit +beside his royal kinsman.</p> + +<p>Once more there was a splendid feast, with tumultuous +rejoicing. Again a queenly hand—that of the beauteous +Hygd—poured out the first bowl in which to celebrate +the safe return of the victorious hero. And now the +wonderful story of the slaying of the fen-fiends must +be told.</p> + +<p>Beowulf was called upon to describe again his perils +and his victories, and told in glowing language of the +grisly monsters and the desperate combats, and of the +boundless gratitude and splendid generosity of the +Danish king, and of his prophecy of lasting friendship between +the Danes and the Geats. Then he concluded:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Thus that great nation’s king<span class="space"> </span>lived in all noble deeds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of guerdon I failed not,<span class="space"> </span>of meed for my valour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the wise son of Healfdene<span class="space"> </span>gave to me treasures great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gifts to my heart’s desire.<span class="space"> </span>These now I bring to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Offer them lovingly:<span class="space"> </span>now are my loyalty<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And service due to thee,<span class="space"> </span>O hero-king, alone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near kinsmen have I few<span class="space"> </span>but thee, O Hygelac!”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>As the hero showed the treasures with which +Hrothgar had rewarded his courage, he distributed them +generously among his kinsmen and friends, giving his +priceless jewelled collar to Queen Hygd, and his best +steed to King Hygelac, as a true vassal and kinsman +should. So Beowulf resumed his place as Hygelac’s +chief warrior and champion, and settled down among +his own people.</p> + + +<h3>Fifty Years After</h3> + +<p>When half a century had passed away, great and +sorrowful changes had taken place in the two kingdoms +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +of Denmark and Geatland. Hrothgar was dead, and had +been succeeded by his son Hrethric, and Hygelac had +been slain in a warlike expedition against the Hetware. +In this expedition Beowulf had accompanied Hygelac, +and had done all a warrior could do to save his kinsman +and his king. When he saw his master slain he had +fought his way through the encircling foes to the sea-shore, +where, though sorely wounded, he flung himself +into the sea and swam back to Geatland. There he had +told Queen Hygd of the untimely death of her husband, +and had called on her to assume the regency of the kingdom +for her young son Heardred. Queen Hygd called +an assembly of the Geats, and there, with the full consent +of the nation, offered the crown to Beowulf, the wisest +counsellor and bravest hero among them; but he +refused to accept it, and so swayed the Geats by his +eloquence and his loyalty that they unanimously raised +Heardred to the throne, with Beowulf as his guardian +and protector. When in later years Heardred also +fell before an enemy, Beowulf was again chosen king, +and as he was now the next of kin he accepted the +throne, and ruled long and gloriously over Geatland. +His fame as a warrior kept his country free from invasion, +and his wisdom as a statesman increased its +prosperity and happiness; whilst the vengeance he took +for his kinsman’s death fulfilled all ideals of family and +feudal duty held by the men of his time. Beowulf, in +fact, became an ideal king, as he was an ideal warrior +and hero, and he closed his life by an ideal act of self-sacrifice +for the good of his people.</p> + + +<h3>Beowulf and the Fire-Dragon</h3> + +<p>In the fiftieth year of Beowulf’s reign a great terror +fell upon the land: terror of a monstrous fire-dragon, +who flew forth by night from his den in the rocks, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +lighting up the blackness with his blazing breath, and +burning houses and homesteads, men and cattle, with +the flames from his mouth. The glare from his fiery +scales was like the dawn-glow in the sky, but his passage +left behind it every night a trail of black, charred desolation +to confront the rising sun. Yet the dragon’s wrath +was in some way justified, since he had been robbed, +and could not trace the thief. Centuries before +Beowulf’s lifetime a mighty family of heroes had +gathered together, by feats of arms, and by long inheritance, +an immense treasure of cups and goblets, of +necklaces and rings, of swords and helmets and armour, +cunningly wrought by magic spells; they had joyed in +their cherished hoard for long years, until all had died +but one, and he survived solitary, miserable, brooding +over the fate of the dearly loved treasure. At last he +caused his servants to make a strong fastness in the +rocks, with cunningly devised entrances, known only to +himself, and thither, with great toil and labour of aged +limbs, he carried and hid the precious treasure. As he +sadly regarded it, and thought of its future fate, he +cried aloud:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Hold thou now fast, O earth,<span class="space"> </span>now men no longer can,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The treasure of mighty earls.<span class="space"> </span>From thee brave men won it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In days that are long gone by,<span class="space"> </span>but slaughter seized on them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death fiercely vanquished them,<span class="space"> </span>each of my warriors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each one of my people,<span class="space"> </span>who closed their life-days here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After the joy of earth.<span class="space"> </span>None have I sword to wield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or bring me the goblet,<span class="space"> </span>the richly wrought vessel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the true heroes have<span class="space"> </span>elsewhere departed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now must the gilded helm<span class="space"> </span>lose its adornments,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For those who polished it<span class="space"> </span>sleep in the gloomy grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those who made ready erst<span class="space"> </span>war-gear of warriors.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Likewise the battle-sark<span class="space"> </span>which in the fight endured<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bites of the keen-edged blades<span class="space"> </span>midst the loud crash of shields<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rusts, with its wearer dead.<span class="space"> </span>Nor may the woven mail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After the chieftain’s death<span class="space"> </span>wide with a champion rove.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Gone is the joy of harp,<span class="space"> </span>gone is the music’s mirth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the hawk goodly-winged<span class="space"> </span>hovers not through the hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor the swift-footed mare<span class="space"> </span>tramples the castle court:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Baleful death far has sent<span class="space"> </span>all living tribes of men.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When this solitary survivor of the ancient race died +his hoard remained alone, unknown, untouched, until +at length the fiery dragon, seeking a shelter among the +rocks, found the hidden way to the cave, and, creeping +within, discovered the lofty inner chamber and the +wondrous hoard. For three hundred winters he +brooded over it unchallenged, and then one day a +hunted fugitive, fleeing from the fury of an avenging +chieftain, in like manner found the cave, and the dragon +sleeping on his gold. Terrified almost to death, the +fugitive eagerly seized a marvellously wrought chalice +and bore it stealthily away, feeling sure that such an +offering would appease his lord’s wrath and atone for +his offence. But when the dragon awoke he discovered +that he had been robbed, and his keen scent assured +him that some one of mankind was the thief. As he +could not at once see the robber, he crept around the +outside of the barrow snuffing eagerly to find traces of +the spoiler, but it was in vain; then, growing more +wrathful, he flew over the inhabited country, shedding +fiery death from his glowing scales and flaming breath, +while no man dared to face this flying horror of the +night.</p> + +<p>The news came to Beowulf that his folk were suffering +and dying, and that no warrior dared to risk his +life in an effort to deliver the land from this deadly +devastation; and although he was now an aged man +he decided to attack the fire-drake. Beowulf knew +that he would not be able to come to hand-grips with +this foe as he had done with Grendel and his mother: +the fiery breath of this dragon was far too deadly, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +he must trust to armour for protection. He commanded +men to make a shield entirely of iron, for he knew +that the usual shield of linden-wood would be instantly +burnt up in the dragon’s flaming breath. He then +chose with care eleven warriors, picked men of his own +bodyguard, to accompany him in this dangerous quest. +They compelled the unhappy fugitive whose theft had +begun the trouble to act as their guide, and thus they +marched to the lonely spot where the dragon’s barrow +stood close to the sea-shore. The guide went unwillingly, +but was forced thereto by his lord, because he +alone knew the way.</p> + + +<h3>Beowulf Faces Death</h3> + +<p>When the little party reached the place they halted +for a time, and Beowulf sat down meditating sadly on +his past life, and on the chances of this great conflict +which he was about to begin. When he had striven +with Grendel, when he had fought against the Hetware, +he had been confident of victory and full of joyous +self-reliance, but now things were changed. Beowulf +was an old man, and there hung over him a sad +foreboding that this would be his last fight, and that +he would rid the land of no more monsters. Wyrd +seemed to threaten him, and a sense of coming woe +lay heavy on his heart as he spoke to his little troop: +“Many great fights I had in my youth. How well I +remember them all! I was only seven years old when +King Hrethel took me to bring up, and loved me as +dearly as his own sons, Herebeald, Hathcyn, or my +own dear lord Hygelac. Great was our grief when +Hathcyn, hunting in the forest, slew all unwittingly +his elder brother: greater than ordinary sorrow, because +we could not avenge him on the murderer! It +would have given no joy to Hrethel to see his second +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +son killed disgracefully as a murderer! So we endured +the pain till King Hrethel died, borne down by his bitter +loss, and I wept for my protector, my kinsman. Then +Hathcyn died also, slain by the Swedes, and my dear lord +Hygelac came to the throne: he was gracious to me, +a giver of weapons, a generous distributor of treasure, +and I repaid him as much as I could in battle against +his foes. Daghrefn, the Frankish warrior who slew +my king, I sent to his doom with my deadly hand-grip: +he, at least, should not show my lord’s armour as +trophy of his prowess. But this fight is different: +here I must use both point and edge, as I was not +wont in my youth: but here too will I, old though I +be, work deeds of valour. I will not give way the +space of one foot, but will meet him here in his own +abode and make all my boasting good. Abide ye +here, ye warriors, for this is not your expedition, nor +the work of any man but me alone; wait till ye know +which is triumphant, for I will win the gold and save +my people, or death shall take me.” So saying he +raised his great shield, and, unaccompanied, set his face +to the dark entrance, where a stream, boiling with +strange heat, flowed forth from the cave; so hot was +the air that he stood, unable to advance far for the +suffocating steam and smoke. Angered by his impotence, +Beowulf raised his voice and shouted a furious +defiance to the awesome guardian of the barrow. Thus +aroused, the dragon sprang up, roaring hideously and +flapping his glowing wings together; out from the +recesses of the barrow came his fiery breath, and then +followed the terrible beast himself. Coiling and writhing +he came, with head raised, and scales of burnished +blue and green, glowing with inner heat; from his +nostrils rushed two streams of fiery breath, and his +flaming eyes shot flashes of consuming fire. He half +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +flew, half sprang at Beowulf. But the hero did not +retreat one step. His bright sword flashed in the air as he +wounded the beast, but not mortally, striking a mighty +blow on his scaly head. The guardian of the hoard +writhed and was stunned for a moment, and then sprang +at Beowulf, sending forth so dense a cloud of flaming +breath that the hero stood in a mist of fire. So +terrible was the heat that the iron shield glowed red-hot +and the ring-mail on the hero’s limbs seared him +as a furnace, and his breast swelled with the keen pain: +so terrible was the fiery cloud that the Geats, seated +some distance away, turned and fled, seeking the cool +shelter of the neighbouring woods, and left their heroic +lord to suffer and die alone.</p> + + +<h3>Beowulf’s Death</h3> + +<p>Among the cowardly Geats, however, there was one +who thought it shameful to flee—Wiglaf, the son of +Weohstan. He was young, but a brave warrior, to +whom Beowulf had shown honour, and on whom he had +showered gifts, for he was a kinsman, and had proved +himself worthy. Now he showed that Beowulf’s favour +had been justified, for he seized his shield, of yellow +linden-wood, took his ancient sword in hand, and prepared +to rush to Beowulf’s aid. With bitter words +he reproached his cowardly comrades, saying: “I remember +how we boasted, as we sat in the mead hall +and drank the foaming ale, as we took gladly the gold +and jewels which our king lavished upon us, that we +would repay him for all his gifts, if ever such need there +were! Now is the need come upon him, and we are +here! Beowulf chose us from all his bodyguard to +help him in this mighty struggle, and we have betrayed +and deserted him, and left him alone against a terrible +foe. Now the day has come when our lord should +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +see our valour, and we flee from his side! Up, let us +go and aid him, even while the grim battle-flame flares +around him. God knows that I would rather risk my +body in the fiery cloud than stay here while my king +fights and dies! Not such disloyalty has Beowulf +deserved through his long reign that he should stand +alone in the death-struggle. He and I will die together, +or side by side will we conquer.” The youthful warrior +tried in vain to rouse the courage of his companions: +they trembled, and would not move. So Wiglaf, +holding on high his shield, plunged into the fiery cloud +and moved towards his king, crying aloud: “Beowulf, +my dear lord, let not thy glory be dimmed. Achieve +this last deed of valour, as thou didst promise in days of +yore, that thy fame should not fall, and I will aid thee.”</p> + +<p>The sound of another voice roused the dragon to +greater fury, and again came the fiery cloud, burning +up like straw Wiglaf’s linden shield, and torturing both +warriors as they stood behind the iron shield with their +heated armour. But they fought on manfully, and +Beowulf, gathering up his strength, struck the dragon +such a blow on the head that his ancient sword was +shivered to fragments. The dragon, enraged, now +flew at Beowulf and seized him by the neck with his +poisonous fangs, so that the blood gushed out in +streams, and ran down his corslet. Wiglaf was filled +with grief and horror at this dreadful sight, and, leaving +the protection of Beowulf’s iron shield, dashed forth at +the dragon, piercing the scaly body in a vital part. At +once the fire began to fade away, and Beowulf, mastering +his anguish, drew his broad knife, and with a last +effort cut the hideous reptile asunder. Then the agony +of the envenomed wound came upon him, and his limbs +burnt and ached with intolerable pain. In growing distress +he staggered to a rough ancient seat, carved out +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +of the rock, hard by the door of the barrow. There +he sank down, and Wiglaf laved his brow with water +from the little stream, which boiled and steamed no +longer. Then Beowulf partially recovered himself, +and said: “Now I bequeath to thee, my son, the +armour which I also inherited. Fifty years have I +ruled this people in peace, so that none of my neighbours +durst attack us. I have endured and toiled much +on this earth, have held my own justly, have pursued +none with crafty hatred, nor sworn unjust oaths. At all +this may I rejoice now that I lie mortally wounded. +Do thou, O dear Wiglaf, bring forth quickly from the +cave the treasures for which I lose my life, that I may +see them and be glad in my nation’s wealth ere I die.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon Wiglaf entered the barrow, and was dazed +by the bewildering hoard of costly treasures. Filling +his arms with such a load as he could carry, he hastened +out of the barrow, fearing even then to find his lord dead. +Then he flung down the treasures—magic armour, +dwarf-wrought swords, carved goblets, flashing gems, +and a golden standard—at Beowulf’s feet, so that the +ancient hero’s dying gaze could fall on the hoard he +had won for his people. But Beowulf was now so near +death that he swooned away, till Wiglaf again flung +water over him, and the dying champion roused himself +to say, as he grasped his kinsman’s hand and looked +at the glittering heap before him:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“I thank God eternal,<span class="space"> </span>the great King of Glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the vast treasures<span class="space"> </span>which I here gaze upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I ere my death-day<span class="space"> </span>might for my people<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Win so great wealth.<span class="space"> </span>Since I have given my life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou must now look to<span class="space"> </span>the needs of the nation;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here dwell I no longer,<span class="space"> </span>for Destiny calleth me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bid thou my warriors<span class="space"> </span>after my funeral pyre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Build me a burial-cairn<span class="space"> </span>high on the sea-cliff’s head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shall for memory<span class="space"> </span>tower up on Hronesness,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +<span class="i0">So that the seafarers<span class="space"> </span>Beowulf’s Barrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Henceforth shall name it,<span class="space"> </span>they who drive far and wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the mighty flood<span class="space"> </span>their foamy keels.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art the last of all<span class="space"> </span>the kindred of Wagmund!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wyrd has swept all my kin,<span class="space"> </span>all the brave chiefs away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now must I follow them!”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>These last words spoken, Beowulf fell back, and his +soul passed away, to meet the joy reserved for all true +and steadfast spirits. The hero was dead, but amid his +grief Wiglaf yet remembered that the dire monster too +lay dead, and the folk were delivered from the horrible +plague, though at terrible cost! Wiglaf, as he mourned +over his dead lord, resolved that no man should joy in +the treasures for which so grievous a price had been +paid—the cowards who deserted their king should help +to lay the treasures in his grave and bury them far +from human use and profit. Accordingly, when the +ten faithless dastards ventured out from the shelter of +the wood, and came shamefacedly to the place where +Wiglaf sat, sorrowing, at the head of dead Beowulf, +he stilled their cries of grief with one wave of the hand, +which had still been vainly striving to arouse his king +by gentle touch, and, gazing scornfully at them, he cried: +“Lo! well may a truthful man say, seeing you here, +safely in the war-gear and ornaments which our dead +hero gave you, that Beowulf did but throw away his +generous gifts, since all he bought with them was +treachery and cowardice in the day of battle! No need +had Beowulf to boast of his warriors in time of danger! +Yet he alone avenged his people and conquered the +fiend—I could help him but little in the fray, though I +did what I could: all too few champions thronged +round our hero when his need was sorest. Now are all +the joys of love and loyalty ended; now is all prosperity +gone from our nation, when foreign princes +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +hear of your flight and the shameless deed of this +day. Better is death to every man than a life of +shame!”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr07.jpg" width="600" height="420" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_40" id="image_page_40"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The death of Beowulf</p> + +<p>The Geats stood silent, abashed before the keen +and deserved reproaches of the young hero, and they +lamented the livelong day. None left the shore and +their lord’s dead corpse; but one man who rode over +the cliff near by saw the mournful little band, with +Beowulf dead in the midst. This warrior galloped +away to tell the people, saying: “Now is our ruler, the +lord of the Geats, stretched dead on the plain, stricken +by the dragon which lies dead beside him; and at his +head sits Wiglaf, son of Weohstan, lamenting his royal +kinsman. Now is the joy and prosperity of our folk +vanished! Now shall our enemies make raids upon +us, for we have none to withstand them! But let us +hasten to bury our king, to bear him royally to his +grave, with mourning and tears of woe.” These unhappy +tidings roused the Geats, and they hastened to +see if it were really true, and found all as the messenger +had said, and wondered at the mighty dragon and the +glorious hoard of gold. They feared the monster and +coveted the treasure, but all felt that the command now +lay with Wiglaf. At last Wiglaf roused himself from his +silent grief and said: “O men of the Geats, I am not +to blame that our king lies here lifeless. He would +fight the dragon and win the treasure; and these he +has done, though he lost his life therein; yea, and I aided +him all that I might, though it was but little I could do. +Now our dear lord Beowulf bade me greet you from +him, and bid you to make for him, after his funeral +pyre, a great and mighty cairn, even as he was the +most glorious of men in his lifetime. Bring ye all the +treasures, bring quickly a bier, and place thereon our +king’s corpse, and let us bear our dear lord to Hronesness, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +where his funeral fire shall be kindled, and his +burial cairn built.”</p> + +<p>The Geats, bitterly grieving, fulfilled Wiglaf’s commands. +They gathered wood for the fire, and piled +it on the cliff-head; then eight chosen ones brought +thither the treasures, and threw the dragon’s body over +the cliff into the sea; then a wain, hung with shields, +was brought to bear the corpse of Beowulf to Hronesness, +where it was solemnly laid on the funeral pile and +consumed to ashes.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“There then the Weder Geats<span class="space"> </span>wrought for their ruler dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cairn on the ocean cliff<span class="space"> </span>widespread and lofty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Visible far and near<span class="space"> </span>by vessels’ wandering crews.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They built in ten days’ space<span class="space"> </span>the hero’s monument,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wrought with shining swords<span class="space"> </span>the earthen rampart wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that the wisest men<span class="space"> </span>worthy might deem it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then in that cairn they placed<span class="space"> </span>necklets and rings and gems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which from the dragon’s hoard<span class="space"> </span>brave men had taken.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to the earth they gave<span class="space"> </span>treasures of ancient folk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gold to the gloomy mould,<span class="space"> </span>where it now lieth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Useless to sons of men<span class="space"> </span>as it e’er was of yore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then round the mound there rode<span class="space"> </span>twelve manly warriors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chanting their bitter grief,<span class="space"> </span>singing the hero dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mourning their noble king<span class="space"> </span>in fitting words of woe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They praised his courage high<span class="space"> </span>and his proud, valiant deeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honoured him worthily,<span class="space"> </span>as it is meet for men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Duly to praise in words<span class="space"> </span>their friendly lord and king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When his soul wanders forth<span class="space"> </span>far from its fleshly home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So all the Geat chiefs,<span class="space"> </span>Beowulf’s bodyguard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wept for their leader’s fall:<span class="space"> </span>sang in their loud laments<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he of earthly kings<span class="space"> </span>mildest to all men was,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gentlest, most gracious,<span class="space"> </span>most keen to win glory.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER II: THE DREAM OF +MAXEN WLEDIG</h2> + + +<h3>The Position of Constantine</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T would seem that the Emperor Constantine the +Great loomed very large in the eyes of mediæval +England. Even in Anglo-Saxon times many +legends clustered round his name, so that Cynewulf, +the religious poet of early England, wrote the poem +of “Elene” mainly on the subject of his conversion. +The story of the Vision of the Holy Cross with the +inscription <i>In hoc signo vinces</i> was inspiring to a poet to +whom the heathen were a living reality, not a distant +abstraction; and Constantine’s generosity to the Church +of Rome and its bishop Sylvester added another element +of attraction to his character in the mediæval mind. +It is hardly surprising that other legends of his conversion +and generosity should have sprung up, which differ +entirely from the earlier and more authentic record. +Thus “the moral Gower” has preserved for us an +alternative legend of the cause of Constantine’s conversion, +which forms a good illustration of the virtue of +pity in the “Confessio Amantis.” Whence this later +legend sprang we have no knowledge, for nothing in +the known history of Constantine warrants our regarding +him as a disciple of mercy, but its existence shows +that the mediæval mind was busied with his personality. +Another most interesting proof of his importance to +Britain is given in the following legend of “The Dream +of Maxen Wledig,” preserved in the “Mabinogion.” +This belongs to the Welsh patriotic legends, and tends +to glorify the marriage of the British Princess Helena +with the Roman emperor, by representing it as preordained +by Fate. The fact that the hero of the Welsh +saga is the Emperor Maxentius instead of Constantius +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +detracts little from the interest of the legend, which is +only one instance of the well-known theme of the lover +led by dream, or vision, or magic glass to the home and +heart of the beloved.</p> + + +<h3>The Emperor Maxen Wledig</h3> + +<p>The Emperor Maxen Wledig was the most powerful +occupant of the throne of the Cæsars who had ever +ruled Europe from the City of the Seven Hills. He +was the most handsome man in his dominions, tall and +strong and skilled in all manly exercises; withal he +was gracious and friendly to all his vassals and tributary +kings, so that he was universally beloved. One day he +announced his wish to go hunting, and was accompanied +on his expedition down the Tiber valley by thirty-two +vassal kings, with whom he enjoyed the sport heartily. +At noon the heat was intense, they were far from Rome, +and all were weary. The emperor proposed a halt, and +they dismounted to take rest. Maxen lay down to +sleep with his head on a shield, and soldiers and attendants +stood around making a shelter for him from the +sun’s rays by a roof of shields hung on their spears. +Thus he fell into a sleep so deep that none dared to +awake him. Hours passed by, and still he slumbered, and +still his whole retinue waited impatiently for his awakening. +At length, when the evening shadows began to +lie long and black on the ground, their impatience found +vent in little restless movements of hounds chafing in +their leashes, of spears clashing, of shields dropping +from the weariness of their holders, and horses neighing +and prancing; and then Maxen Wledig awoke suddenly +with a start. “Ah, why did you arouse me?” he asked +sadly. “Lord, your dinner hour is long past—did you +not know?” they said. He shook his head mournfully, +but said no word, and, mounting his horse, turned it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +and rode in unbroken silence back to Rome, with his +head sunk on his breast. Behind him rode in dismay +his retinue of kings and tributaries, who knew nothing +of the cause of his sorrowful mood.</p> + + +<h3>The Emperor’s Malady</h3> + +<p>From that day the emperor was changed, changed +utterly. He rode no more, he hunted no more, he paid +no heed to the business of the empire, but remained +in seclusion in his own apartments and slept. The +court banquets continued without him, music and song +he refused to hear, and though in his sleep he smiled +and was happy, when he awoke his melancholy could +not be cheered or his gloom lightened. When this +condition of things had continued for more than a week +it was determined that the emperor must be aroused +from this dreadful state of apathy, and his groom of +the chamber, a noble Roman of very high rank—indeed, +a king, under the emperor—resolved to make the +endeavour.</p> + +<p>“My lord,” said he, “I have evil tidings for you. +The people of Rome are beginning to murmur against +you, because of the change that has come over you. +They say that you are bewitched, that they can get no +answers or decisions from you, and all the affairs of the +empire go to wrack and ruin while you sleep and take +no heed. You have ceased to be their emperor, they +say, and they will cease to be loyal to you.”</p> + + +<h3>The Dream of the Emperor</h3> + +<p>Then Maxen Wledig roused himself and said to the +noble: “Call hither my wisest senators and councillors, +and I will explain the cause of my melancholy, and +perhaps they will be able to give me relief.” Accordingly +the senators came together, and the emperor +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +ascended his throne, looking so mournful that the +whole Senate grieved for him, and feared lest death +should speedily overtake him. He began to address +them thus:</p> + +<p>“Senators and Sages of Rome, I have heard that my +people murmur against me, and will rebel if I do not +arouse myself. A terrible fate has fallen upon me, and +I see no way of escape from my misery, unless ye can +find one. It is now more than a week since I went +hunting with my court, and when I was wearied I dismounted +and slept. In my sleep I dreamt, and a vision +cast its spell upon me, so that I feel no happiness unless +I am sleeping, and seem to live only in my dreams. +I thought I was hunting along the Tiber valley, lost my +courtiers, and rode to the head of the valley alone. +There the river flowed forth from a great mountain, +which looked to me the highest in the world; but I +ascended it, and found beyond fair and fertile plains, +far vaster than any in our Italy, with mighty rivers flowing +through the lovely country to the sea. I followed +the course of the greatest river, and reached its mouth, +where a noble port stood on the shores of a sea unknown +to me. In the harbour lay a fleet of well-appointed +ships, and one of these was most beautifully adorned, +its planks covered with gold or silver, and its sails of +silk. As a gangway of carved ivory led to the deck, I +crossed it and entered the vessel, which immediately +sailed out of the harbour into the ocean. The voyage +was not of long duration, for we soon came to land in +a wondrously beautiful island, with scenery of varied +loveliness. This island I traversed, led by some secret +guidance, till I reached its farthest shore, broken by +cliffs and precipices and mountain ranges, while between +the mountains and the sea I saw a fair and fruitful land +traversed by a silvery, winding river, with a castle at its +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +mouth. My longing drew me to the castle, and when +I came to the gate I entered, for the dwelling stood +open to every man, and such a hall as was therein I +have never seen for splendour, even in Imperial Rome. +The walls were covered with gold, set with precious +gems, the seats were of gold and the tables of silver, +and two fair youths, whom I saw playing chess, used +pieces of gold on a board of silver. Their attire was of +black satin embroidered with gold, and golden circlets +were on their brows. I gazed at the youths for a +moment, and next became aware of an aged man sitting +near them. His carved ivory seat was adorned with +golden eagles, the token of Imperial Rome; his ornaments +on arms and hands and neck were of bright +gold, and he was carving fresh chessmen from a rod of +solid gold. Beside him sat, on a golden chair, a maiden +(the loveliest in the whole world she seemed, and still +seems, to me). White was her inner dress under a golden +overdress, her crown of gold adorned with rubies and +pearls, and a golden girdle encircled her slender waist. +The beauty of her face won my love in that moment, +and I knelt and said: ‘Hail, Empress of Rome!’ but +as she bent forward from her seat to greet me I awoke. +Now I have no peace and no joy except in sleep, for in +dreams I always see my lady, and in dreams we love +each other and are happy; therefore in dreams will I +live, unless ye can find some way to satisfy my longing +while I wake.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr08.jpg" width="407" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_46" id="image_page_46"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The dream of the Emperor</p> + + +<h3>The Quest for the Maiden</h3> + +<p>The senators were at first greatly amazed, and then +one of them said: “My lord, will you not send out +messengers to seek throughout all your lands for the +maiden in the castle? Let each group of messengers +search for one year, and return at the end of the year +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +with tidings. So shall you live in good hope of success +from year to year.” The messengers were sent out +accordingly, with wands in their hands and a sleeve tied +on each cap, in token of peace and of an embassy; +but though they searched with all diligence, after three +years three separate embassies had brought back no +news of the mysterious land and the beauteous +maiden.</p> + +<p>Then the groom of the chamber said to Maxen +Wledig: “My lord, will you not go forth to hunt, as +on the day when you dreamt this enthralling dream?” +To this the emperor agreed, and rode to the place in +the valley where he had slept. “Here,” he said, “my +dream began, and I seemed to follow the river to its +source.” Then the groom of the chamber said: “Will +you not send messengers to the river’s source, my +lord, and bid them follow the track of your dream?” +Accordingly thirteen messengers were sent, who followed +the river up until it issued from the highest mountain +they had ever seen. “Behold our emperor’s dream!” +they exclaimed, and they ascended the mountain, and +descended the other side into a most beautiful and +fertile plain, as Maxen Wledig had seen in his dream. +Following the greatest river of all (probably the Rhine), +the ambassadors reached the great seaport on the North +Sea, and found the fleet waiting with one vessel larger +than all the others; and they entered the ship and were +carried to the fair island of Britain. Here they journeyed +westward, and came to the mountainous land of +Snowdon, whence they could see the sacred isle of Mona +(Anglesey) and the fertile land of Arvon lying between +the mountains and the sea. “This,” said the messengers, +“is the land of our master’s dream, and in yon fair +castle we shall find the maiden whom our emperor +loves.”</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<h3>The Finding of the Maiden</h3> + +<p>So they went through the lovely land of Arvon to +the castle of Caernarvon, and in that lordly fortress was +the great hall, with the two youths playing chess, the +venerable man carving chessmen, and the maiden in her +chair of gold. When the ambassadors saw the fair +Princess Helena they fell on their knees before her +and said: “Empress of Rome, all hail!” But Helena +half rose from her seat in anger as she said: “What +does this mockery mean? You seem to be men of +gentle breeding, and you wear the badge of messengers: +whence comes it, then, that ye mock me thus?” But +the ambassadors calmed her anger, saying: “Be not +wroth, lady: this is no mockery, for the Emperor of +Rome, the great lord Maxen Wledig, has seen you in +a dream, and he has sworn to wed none but you. +Which, therefore, will you choose, to accompany us to +Rome, and there be made empress, or to wait here +until the emperor can come to you?” The princess +thought deeply for a time, and then replied: “I would +not be too credulous, or too hard of belief. If the +emperor loves me and would wed me, let him find me +in my father’s house, and make me his bride in my +own home.”</p> + + +<h3>The Dream Realized</h3> + +<p>After this the thirteen envoys departed, and returned +to the emperor in such haste that when their horses +failed they gave no heed, but took others and pressed +on. When they reached Rome and informed Maxen +Wledig of the success of their mission he at once +gathered his army and marched across Europe towards +Britain. When the Roman emperor had crossed the +sea he conquered Britain from Beli the son of Manogan, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +and made his way to Arvon. On entering the castle he +saw first the two youths, Kynon and Adeon, playing +chess, then their father, Eudav, the son of Caradoc, +and then his beloved, the beauteous Helena, daughter +of Eudav. “Empress of Rome, all hail!” Maxen +Wledig said; and the princess bent forward in her chair +and kissed him, for she knew he was her destined +husband. The next day they were wedded, and the +Emperor Maxen Wledig gave Helena as dowry all +Britain for her father, the son of the gallant Caradoc, +and for herself three castles, Caernarvon, Caerlleon, and +Caermarthen, where she dwelt in turn; and in one of +them was born her son Constantine, the only British-born +Emperor of Rome. To this day in Wales the +old Roman roads that connected Helena’s three castles +are known as “Sarn Helen.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER III: THE STORY OF +CONSTANTINE AND ELENE</h2> + + +<h3>The Greatness of Constantine Provokes Attack</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the year 312, the sixth year after Constantine +had become emperor, the Roman Empire had +increased on every hand, for Constantine was a +mighty leader in war, a gracious and friendly lord in +peace; he was a true king and ruler, a protector of all +men. So mightily did he prosper that his enemies +assembled great armies against him, and a confederation +to overthrow him was made by the terrible Huns, the +famous Goths, the brave Franks, and the warlike +Hugas. This powerful confederation sent against +Constantine an overwhelming army of Huns, whose +numbers seemed to be countless, and yet the Hunnish +leaders feared, when they knew that the emperor himself +led the small Roman host.</p> + + +<h3>The Eve of the Battle</h3> + +<p>The night before the battle Constantine lay sadly +in the midst of his army, watching the stars, and dreading +the result of the next day’s conflict; for his +warriors were few compared with the Hunnish multitude, +and even Roman discipline and devotion might +not win the day against the mad fury of the barbarous +Huns. At last, wearied out, the emperor slept, and a +vision came to him in his sleep. He seemed to see, +standing by him, a beautiful shining form, a man more +glorious than the sons of men, who, as Constantine +sprang up ready helmed for war, addressed him by +name. The darkness of night fled before the heavenly +light that shone from the angel, and the messenger +said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +<span class="i0">“O Constantinus, the Ruler of Angels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lord of all glory, the Master of heaven’s hosts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Claims from thee homage. Be not thou affrighted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though armies of aliens array them for battle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though terrible warriors threaten fierce conflict.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look thou to the sky, to the throne of His glory;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There seest thou surely the symbol of conquest.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + + +<h3>Vision of the Cross</h3> + +<p>Constantine looked up as the angel bade him, and +saw, hovering in the air, a cross, splendid, glorious, +adorned with gems and shining with heavenly light. +On its wood letters were engraved, gleaming with +unearthly radiance:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“With this shalt thou conquer the foe in the conflict,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with it shalt hurl back the host of the heathen.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + + +<h3>Constantine is Cheered</h3> + +<p>Constantine read these words with awe and gladness, +for indeed he knew not what deity had thus favoured +him, but he would not reject the help of the Unknown +God; so he bowed his head in reverence, and when +he looked again the cross and the angel had disappeared, +and around him as he woke was the greyness of the +rising dawn. The emperor summoned to his tent two +soldiers from the troops, and bade them make a cross +of wood to bear before the army. This they did, +greatly marvelling, and Constantine called a standard-bearer, +to whom he gave charge to bear forward the +Standard of the Cross where the danger was greatest +and the battle most fierce.</p> + + +<h3>The Morning of Battle</h3> + +<p>When the day broke, and the two armies could see +each other, both hosts arrayed themselves for battle, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +in serried ranks of armed warriors, shouting their war-cries.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Loud sang the trumpets to stern-minded foemen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dewy-winged eagle watched them march onward,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The horny-billed raven rejoiced in the battle-play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sly wolf, the forest-thief, soon saw his heart’s desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the fierce warriors rushed at each other.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great was the shield-breaking, loud was the clamour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hard were the hand-blows, and dire was the downfall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When first the heroes felt the keen arrow-shower.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon did the Roman host fall on the death-doomed Huns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrust forth their deadly spears over the yellow shields,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broke with their battle-glaives breasts of the foemen.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + + +<h3>The Cross is Raised</h3> + +<p>Then, when the battle was at its height, and the +Romans knew not whether they would conquer or die +fighting to the last, the standard-bearer raised the +Cross, the token of promised victory, before all the +host, and sang the chant of triumph. Onward he +marched, and the Roman host followed him, pressing +on resistless as the surging waves. The Huns, bewildered +by the strange rally, and dreading the +mysterious sign of some mighty god, rolled back, at +first slowly, and then more and more quickly, till sullen +retreat became panic rout, and they broke and fled. +Multitudes were cut down as they fled, other multitudes +were swept away by the devouring Danube as +they tried to cross its current; some, half dead, +reached the other side, and saved their lives in +fortresses, guarding the steep cliffs beyond the Danube. +Few, very few they were who ever saw their native land +again.</p> + +<p>There was great rejoicing in the Roman army and +in the Roman camp when Constantine returned in +triumph with the wondrous Cross borne before him. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +He passed on to the city, and the people of Rome gazed +with awe on the token of the Unknown God who had +saved their city, but none would say who that God +might be.</p> + + +<h3>A Council Summoned</h3> + +<p>The emperor summoned a great council of all the +wisest men in Rome, and when all were met he raised +the Standard of the Cross in the midst and said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Can any man tell me, by spells or by ancient lore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who is the gracious God, giver of victory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who came in His glory, with the Cross for His token,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who rescued my people and gave me the victory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scattered my foemen and put the fierce Huns to flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showed me in heaven His sign of deliverance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The loveliest Cross of light, gleaming in glory?”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + +<p>At first no man could give him any answer—perhaps +none dared—till after a long silence the wisest of all +arose and said he had heard that the Cross was the sign +of Christ the King of Heaven, and that the knowledge +of His way was only revealed to men in baptism. +When strict search was made some Christians were +found, who preached the way of life to Constantine, +and rejoiced that they might tell before men, of the life +and death, the Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus +Christ, who redeemed mankind from the bonds of +evil; and then Constantine, being fully instructed and +convinced, was baptized and became the first Christian +emperor.</p> + + +<h3>Constantine Desires to Find our Saviour’s Cross</h3> + +<p>Constantine’s heart, however, was too full of love +for his new Lord to let him rest satisfied without some +visible token of Christ’s sojourn on earth. He longed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +to have, to keep for his own, one thing at least which +Jesus had touched during His life, and his thoughts +turned chiefly to that Cross which had been to himself +both the sign of triumph and the guide to the way of +life. Thus he again called together his Christian +teachers, and inquired more closely where Christ had +suffered.</p> + +<p>“In Judæa, outside the walls of Jerusalem, He died +on the Cross,” they told him.</p> + +<p>“Then there, near that city, so blest and so curst, +we must seek His precious Cross,” cried Constantine.</p> + + +<h3>Summons his Mother Elene</h3> + +<p>Forthwith he summoned from Britain his mother +the British Princess Elene, and when she had been +taught the truth, had been converted and baptized, he +told her of his heart’s desire, and begged her to journey +to Jerusalem and seek the sacred Cross.</p> + +<p>Elene herself, when she heard Constantine’s words, +was filled with wonder, and said: “Dear son, thy words +have greatly rejoiced my heart, for know that I, too, +have seen a vision, and would gladly seek the Holy +Cross, where it lies hidden from the eyes of men.”</p> + + +<h3>Elene’s Vision</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Now will I tell thee the brightest of visions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreamt at the midnight when men lay in slumber.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hovering in heaven saw I a radiant Cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gloriously gold-adorned, shining in splendour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Starry gems shone on it at the four corners,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flashed from the shoulder-span five gleaming jewels.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Angels surrounded it, guarding it gladly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet in its loveliness sad was that Cross to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ’neath the gold and gems fast blood flowed from it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till it was all defiled with the dark drops.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Dream of the Rood.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +In this dream of Elene’s the Cross spoke to her, +and told her of the sad fate which had made of that +hapless tree the Cross on which the Redeemer of mankind +had released the souls of men from evil, on which +He had spread out His arms to embrace mankind, had +bowed His head, weary with the strife, and had given +up His soul. All creation wept that hour, for Christ +was on the Cross.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Yet His friends came to him, left not His corpse alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Took down the Mighty King from His sharp sufferings—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Humbly I bowed myself down to the hands of men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sadly they laid Him down in His dark rock-hewn grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sadly they sang for Him dirges for death-doomed ones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sadly they left Him there as His fair corpse grew cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We, the three Crosses, stood mournful in loneliness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till evil-thinking men felled us all three to ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sank us deep into earth, sealed us from sight of man.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Dream of the Rood.</p> + + +<h3>She Undertakes the Quest</h3> + +<p>As Constantine had been guided by the heavenly +vision of the True Cross, so now Elene would journey +to the land of the Jews and find the reality of that +Holy Cross. Her will and that of her son were one +in this matter, so that before long the whole city resounded +with the bustle and clamour of preparation, +for Elene was to travel with the pomp and retinue +befitting the mother of the Emperor of Rome.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“There by the Wendel Sea stood the wave-horses.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proudly the plunging ships sought out the ocean path.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Line followed after line of the tall brine-ploughs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth went the water-steeds o’er the sea-serpent’s road<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright shields on the bulwarks oft broke the foaming surge.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne’er saw I lady lead such a fair following!”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<h3>She Comes to Judæa</h3> + +<p>Queen Elene had a prosperous voyage, and, after +touching at the land of the Greeks, reached in due +time the country of Judæa, and so, with good hope +came to Jerusalem. There, in the emperor’s name, +she summoned to an assembly all the oldest and wisest +Jews, a congregation of a thousand venerable rabbis, +learned in all the books of the Law and the Prophets +and proud that they were the Chosen People in a world +of heathens, aliens from the True God. These she +addressed at first with a blending of flattery and reproach—flattery +for the Chosen People, reproach for +their perversity of wickedness—and, finally, peremptorily +demanded an answer to any question she might ask +of them. The Jews withdrew and deliberated sadly +whether they durst refuse the request of so mighty a +person as the emperor’s mother, and, deciding that +they durst not, returned to the hall where Elene sat in +splendour on her throne and announced their readiness +to reply to all her questions. Elene, however, bade +them first lessen their numbers. They chose five +hundred to reply for them, and on these she poured +such bitter reproaches that they at last exclaimed:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Lady, we learnt of yore laws of the Hebrew folk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which all our fathers learnt from the true ark of God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lady, we know not now why thou thus blamest us;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How has the Jewish race done grievous wrong to thee?”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + + +<h3>She Cross-questions the Rabbis</h3> + +<p>Elene only replied: “Go ye away, and choose out +from among these five hundred those whose wisdom is +great enough to show them without delay the answer +to all things I require”; and again they left her presence. +When they were alone, one of them, named Judas, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +said “I know what this queen requires: she will +demand to know from us where the Cross is concealed +on which the Lord of the Christians was crucified; but +if we tell this secret I know well that the Jews will +cease to bear rule on the earth, and our holy scriptures +will be forgotten. For my grandfather Zacchæus, as +he lay dying, bade me confess the truth if ever man +should inquire concerning the Holy Tree; and when I +asked how our nation had failed to recognise the Holy +and Just One, he told me that he had always withdrawn +himself from the evil deeds of his generation, and their +leaders had been blinded by their own unrighteousness, +and had slain the Lord of Glory. And he ended:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Thus I and my father secretly held the Faith.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now warn I thee, my son, speak not thou mockingly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the true Son of God reigning in glory:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For whom my Stephen died, and the Apostle Paul.’<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Judas, “since things are so, decide ye what +we shall reveal, or what conceal, if this queen asks us.”</p> + + +<h3>One Appointed to Answer her</h3> + +<p>The other elders replied: “Do what seems to thee +best, since thou alone knowest this. Never have we +heard of these strange secrets. Do thou according to +thy great wisdom.”</p> + +<p>While they still deliberated came the heralds with +silver trumpets, which they blew, proclaiming aloud:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The mighty Queen calls you, O men, to the Council,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she may hear from you of your decision.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great is the need ye have of all your wisdom.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + +<p>Slowly and reluctantly the Jewish rabbis returned +to the council-chamber, and listened to Elene as she +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +plied them with questions about the ancient prophecies +and the death of Christ; but to all her inquiries they +professed entire ignorance, until, in her wrath, the queen +threatened them with death by fire. Then they led +forward Judas, saying: “He can reveal the mysteries of +Fate, for he is of noble race, the son of a prophet. He +will tell thee truth, O Queen, as thy soul loveth.” +Thus Elene let the other Jews go in peace, and took +Judas for a hostage.</p> + + +<h3>She Threatens him</h3> + +<p>Now Elene greeted Judas and said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Lo, thou perverse one, two things lie before thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or death or life for thee: choose which thou wilt.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + +<p>Judas replied to her, since he could not escape:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“If the starved wanderer lost on the barren moors<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees both a stone and bread, easily in his reach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, O Queen, thinkest thou he will reject?”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + +<p>Thereupon Elene said: “If thou wouldst dwell in +heaven with the angels, reveal to me where the True +Cross lies hidden.” Now Judas was very sad, for his +choice lay between death and the revealing of the fateful +secret, but he still tried to evade giving an answer, +protesting that too long a time had passed for the secret +to be known. Elene retorted that the Trojan War was +a still more ancient story, and yet was still well known; +but Judas replied that men are bound to remember the +valiant deeds of nations; he himself had never even +heard the story of which she spoke. This obstinacy +angered the queen greatly, and she demanded to be +taken at once to the hill of Calvary, that she might +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +purify it, for the sake of Him who died there; but +Judas only repeated:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“I know not the place, nor aught of that field.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + +<p>Queen Elene was yet more enraged by his stubborn +denials, and determined to obtain by force an answer +to her questions. Calling her servants, she bade them +thrust Judas into a deep dry cistern, where he lay, +starving, bound hand and foot, for seven nights and +days. On the seventh day his stubborn spirit yielded, +and Judas lifted up his voice and called aloud, saying:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Now I beseech you all by the great God of heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you will lift me up out of this misery.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will tell all I know of that True Holy Cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now I no longer can hide it for heavy pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hunger has daunted me through all these dreary days.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foolish was I of yore; late I confess it.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + + +<h3>He Guides her to Calvary</h3> + +<p>The message was brought to Elene where she waited +to hear tidings, and she bade her servants lift the +weakened Judas from the dark pit; then they led +him, half dead with hunger, out of the city to the hill +of Calvary. There Judas prayed to the God whom he +now feared and worshipped for a sign, some token to +guide them in their search for the Holy Cross. As he +prayed a sweet-smelling vapour, curling upwards like +the incense-wreaths around the altar, rose to the skies +from the summit of the hill. The sign was manifest to +all, and Judas gave thanks to God for His great mercy; +then, bidding the wondering soldiers help him, he began +to dig. By this time all men knew what they sought, +and each wished to uncover the holy relic, so that all +dug with great zeal, until, under twenty feet of earth, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +they uncovered three crosses, so well preserved that +they lay in the earth just as the Jews had hidden them.</p> + + +<h3>Three Crosses Found</h3> + +<p>Judas and all rejoiced greatly at this marvel, and, +reverently raising the three crosses, they bore them into +the city, and laid them at the feet of Queen Elene, whose +first rapture of joy was speedily turned to perplexity as +she realised that she knew not which was that sacred +Cross on which the King of Angels had suffered. “For,” +she said, “two thieves were crucified with him.” But +even Judas could not clear her doubts.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Lo we have heard of this from all the holy books,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That there were with him two in His deep anguish.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hung in death by Him; He was Himself the third.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven was all darkened o’er at that dread moment.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, if thou rightly canst, which of these crosses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that blest Tree of Fate which bore the Heaven’s King.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Elene.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr09.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_60" id="image_page_60"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The Queen’s dilemma</p> + + +<h3>A Miracle to Reveal our Saviour’s Cross</h3> + +<p>Judas, however, suggested that the crosses should be +carried to the midst of the city, and that they should +pray for another miracle to reveal the truth. This was +done at dawn, and the triumphant band of Christians +raised hymns of prayer and praise until the ninth +hour; then came a mighty crowd bearing a young man +lifeless on his bier. At Judas’s command they laid +down the bier, and he, praying to God, solemnly raised +in turn each of the crosses and held it above the dead +man’s head. Lifeless still he lay as Judas raised the +first two, but when he held above the corpse the third, +the True Cross, the dead man arose instantly, body +and soul reunited, one in praising God, and the whole +multitude broke out into shouts of thanksgiving to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +Lord of Hosts, and the sacred relic was restored to the +loving care of the queen.</p> + + +<h3>The Nails Sought for</h3> + +<p>Nevertheless Elene’s longing was still unsatisfied. +She called Judas (whose new name in baptism was +Cyriacus) and begged him to fulfil her desires, and to +pray to God that she might find the nails which had +pierced the Lord of Life, where they lay hidden from +men in the ground of Calvary. Leading her out of the +town, Cyriacus again prayed on Mount Calvary that God +would send forth a token and reveal the secret. As +he prayed there came from heaven a leaping flame, +brighter than the sun, which touched the surface of the +ground here and there, and kindled in each place a tiny +star. When they dug at the spots where the stars +shone they found each nail shining visibly and casting +a radiance of its own in the dark earth. So Elene had +obtained her heart’s desire, and had now the True +Cross and the Holy Nails.</p> + + +<h3>Good News Brought to Constantine</h3> + +<p>Word of his mother’s success was sent to the Emperor +Constantine, and he was asked what should be done +with these glorious relics. He bade Elene build in +Jerusalem a glorious church, and make therein a +beautiful shrine of silver, where the Holy Cross should +be guarded for all generations by priests who should +watch it day and night. This was done, but the nails +were still Elene’s possession, and she was at a loss how +to preserve these holy relics, when the devout Cyriacus, +now ordained Bishop of Jerusalem, went to her and +said: “O lady and queen, take these precious nails for +thy son the emperor. Make with them rings for his +horse’s bridle. Victory shall ever go with them; they +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +shall be called Holy to God, and he shall be called +blessed whom that horse bears.” The advice pleased +the queen, and she had wrought a glorious bridle, +adorned with the Holy Nails, and sent it to her son. +Constantine received it with all reverence, and ordained +that April 24, the day of the miracle of revelation, +should henceforth be kept in honour as “Holy Cross +Day.” Thus were the Emperor’s zeal and the royal +mother’s devotion rewarded, and Christendom was +enriched by some of its most precious treasures, the +True Cross and the Holy Nails.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER IV: THE COMPASSION OF +CONSTANTINE</h2> + + +<h3>Youth of Constantine</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">C</span>ONSTANTINE THE GREAT was the eldest +son of the Roman Emperor Constantius and +the British Princess Helena, or Elena, and was +brought up as a devout worshipper of the many gods +of Rome. The lad grew up strong and handsome, of +a tall and majestic figure, skilled in all warlike exercises, +and, as he fought in the civil wars between the various +Roman emperors, he showed himself a bold and prudent +general in battle, a friendly and popular leader +in time of peace. The popularity of the youthful +Constantine was dangerous to him, and he needed, and +showed, great skill in evading the deadly jealousy of +the old Emperor Diocletian, and the hatred of his +father’s rival, Galerius. At last, however, his position +became so dangerous that Constantius felt his son’s +life was no longer safe, and earnestly begged him to +visit his native land of Britain, where Constantius had +just been proclaimed emperor and had defeated the +wild Caledonians. The excuse given was that Constantius +was in bad health and needed his son; but not +until the young man was actually in Britain would his +anxious father avow that he feared for his son’s life.</p> + + +<h3>Acclaimed Emperor</h3> + +<p>When the half-British Constantius died, Constantine, +who was the favourite of the Roman soldiery of the +west, was at once acclaimed as emperor by his devoted +troops. He professed unwillingness to accept the +honour, and it is said that he even tried in vain to escape +on horseback from the affectionate solicitations of his +soldiers. Seeing the uselessness of further protest, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +Constantine accepted the imperial title, and wrote to +Galerius claiming the throne and justifying his acceptance +of the unsought dignity thrust upon him. Galerius +acquiesced in the inevitable, and granted Constantine +the inferior title of “Cæsar,” with rule over Western +Europe, and the wise prince was content to wait until +favouring circumstances should destroy his rivals and +give him that sole sway over the Roman Empire for +which he was so well fitted. He had now reached the +age of thirty, had fought valiantly in the wars in Egypt +and Persia, and had risen by merit to the rank of +tribune. His marriage with Fausta, the daughter of +the Emperor Maximian, and his elevation to the rank +of Augustus brought him nearer to the attainment of +his ambition; and at length the defeat and death of his +rivals placed him at the head of the world-wide empire +of Rome. It is to some period previous to Constantine’s +elevation to the supreme authority that we +must refer the following story, told by Gower in his +“Confessio Amantis” as an example of that true charity +which is the mother of pity, and makes a man’s heart so +tender that,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Though he might himself relieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet he would not another grieve,”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>but in order to give pleasure to others would bear his +own trouble alone.</p> + + +<h3>Becomes a Leper</h3> + +<p>The noble Constantine, Emperor of Rome, was in +the full flower of his age, goodly to look upon, strong +and happy, when a great and sudden affliction came +upon him: leprosy attacked him. The horrible disease +showed itself first in his face, so that no concealment +was possible, and if he had not been the emperor +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +he would have been driven out to live in the forests +and wilds. The leprosy spread from his face till it +entirely covered his body, and became so bad that he +could no longer ride out or show himself to his people. +When all cures had been tried and had failed, Constantine +withdrew himself from his lords, gave up all +use of arms, abandoned his imperial duties, and shut +himself in his palace, where he lived such a secluded +life in his own apartments that Rome had, as it were, +no lord, and all men throughout the empire talked of +his illness and prayed their gods to heal him. When +everything seemed to be in vain, Constantine yielded +to the prayer of his council, that he would summon all +the doctors, learned men, and physicians from every +realm to Rome, that they might consider his illness +and try if any cure could be found for his malady.</p> + + +<h3>Rewards Offered for his Cure</h3> + +<p>A proclamation went forth throughout the world +and great rewards were offered to any man who should +heal the emperor. Tempted by the rewards and the +great fame to be won, there came leeches and physicians +from Persia and Arabia, and from every land that owned +the sway of Rome, philosophers from Greece and Egypt, +and magicians and sorcerers from the unexplored desert +of the east. But, though Constantine tried all the +remedies suggested or recommended by the wise men, +his leprosy grew no better, but rather worse, and even +magic could give him no help.</p> + +<p>Again the learned men assembled and consulted +what they should advise, for all were loath to abandon +the emperor in his great distress, but they were all +at a loss. They sat in silence, till at last one very old +and very wise man, a great physician from Arabia, arose +and said:</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<h3>A Desperate Remedy</h3> + +<p>“Now that all else has failed, and naught is of any +avail, I will tell of a remedy of which I have heard. It +will, I believe, certainly cure our beloved emperor, but +it is very terrible, and therefore I was loath to name it +till every other means had been tried and failed, for it +is a cruel thing for any man to do. Let the Emperor +dip himself in a full bath of the blood of infants and +children, seven years old or under, and he shall be +healed, and his leprosy shall fall from him; for this +malady is not natural to his body, and it demands an +unnatural cure.”</p> + + +<h3>Constantine Assents Regretfully</h3> + +<p>The proposal was a terrible one to the assembly, and +many would not agree to it at first, but when they +considered that nothing else would heal the emperor +they at length gave way, and sent two from among +themselves to bring the news to Constantine, who was +waiting for them in his darkened room. He was +horrified when he heard the counsel they brought, and +at first utterly refused to carry out so evil a plan; but +because his life was very dear to his people, and because +he felt that he had a great work to do in the world, he +ultimately agreed, with many tears, to try the terrible +remedy.</p> + + +<h3>A Cruel Proclamation</h3> + +<p>Thereupon the council drew up letters, under the +emperor’s hand and seal, and sent them out to all the +world, bidding all mothers with children of seven years +of age or under to bring them with speed to Rome, +that there the blood of the innocents might prove healing +to the emperor’s malady. Alas! what weeping and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +wailing there was among the mothers when they heard +this cruel decree! How they cried, and clasped their +babes to their breasts, and how they called Constantine +more cruel than Herod, who killed the Holy Innocents! +The eastern ruler, they said, slew only the infants of +one poor village, but their emperor, more ruthless, +claimed the lives of all the young children of his whole +empire.</p> + + +<h3>Constantine is Conscience-stricken</h3> + +<p>But though the mothers lamented bitterly, they must +needs bow to the emperor’s decree, whether they were +lief or loath, and thus a great multitude gathered in +the great courtyard of the imperial palace at Rome: +women nursing sucking-babes at the breast, or holding +toddling infants by the hand, or with little children +running by their sides, and all so heart-broken and +woebegone that many swooned for very grief. The +mothers wailed aloud, the children cried, and the tumult +grew until Constantine heard it, where he sat lonely +and wretched in his darkened room. He looked out +of his window on the mournful sight in the courtyard, +and was roused as from a trance, saying to himself: +“O Divine Providence, who hast formed all men +alike, lo! the poor man is born, lives, suffers, and dies, +just as does the rich; to wise man and fool alike come +sickness and health; and no man may avoid that +fortune which Nature’s law hath ordained for him. +Likewise to all men are Nature’s gifts of strength and +beauty, of soul and reason, freely and fully given, so +that the poor child is born as capable of virtue as the +king’s son; and to each man is given free will to +choose virtue or vice. Yet thou givest to men diversity +of rank, wealth or poverty, lordship or servitude, not +always according to their deserts; so much the more +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +virtuous should that man be to whom thou hast put +other men in subjection, men who are nevertheless his +fellows and wear his likeness. Thou, O God, who +hast put Nature and the whole universe under law, +wouldst have all men rule themselves by law, and +thou hast said that a man must do to others such +things as he would have done to himself.”</p> + + +<h3>His Noble Resolve</h3> + +<p>Thus Constantine spoke within himself as he stood +by the window and looked upon the weeping mothers +and children, the very sentinels of his palace pitying +them, and trying in vain to comfort them; and a strife +grew strong within him between his natural longing +for healing and deliverance from this loathsome disease +which had darkened his life, and the pity he felt for +these poor creatures, and his horror at the thought of +so much human blood to be shed for himself alone. +The great moaning of the woeful mothers came to him +and the pitiful crying of the children, and he thought: +“What am I that my health is to outweigh the lives +and happiness of so many of my people? Is my life of +more value to the world than those of all the children +who must shed their blood for my healing? Surely +each babe is as precious as Constantine the Emperor!” +Thus his heart grew so tender and so full of compassion +that he chose rather to die by this terrible sickness than +to commit so great a slaughter of innocent children, and +he renounced all other physicians, and trusted himself +wholly to God’s care.</p> + + +<h3>He Announces his Determination</h3> + +<p>He at once summoned his council, and announced +to them his resolution, giving as his reason, “He that +will be truly master must be ever servant to pity!” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +and without delay the anxious mothers were told that +their children were free and safe, for the emperor had +renounced the cure, and needed their blood no longer. +What raptures of rejoicing there were, what outpouring +of blessing on the emperor, what songs of praise and +thanks from the women wild with joy, cannot be fully +told; and yet greater grew their joy and thankfulness +when Constantine, calling his high officials, bade them +take all his gathered treasures and distribute them +among the poor women, that they might feed and +clothe their children, and so return home untouched +by any loss, and recompensed in some degree for their +sufferings. Thus did Constantine obey the behests of +pity, and try to atone for the wrong to which he had +consented in his heart, and which he had so nearly done +to his people.</p> + + +<h3>The Victims Sent Home Happy</h3> + +<p>Home to all parts of the Roman Empire went the +women, bearing with them their happy children, and +the rich gifts they had received. Each one thanked +and blessed the emperor, and sang his praises, where +before she had passed with tears and bitter curses on +his head; each woman shared her joy with her neighbours; +and the very children learnt from their mothers +and fathers to pray for the healing of their great lord, +who had given up his own will and sacrificed his own +cure for gentle pity’s sake. Thus the whole world +prayed for Constantine’s healing.</p> + + +<h3>A Vision</h3> + +<p>Lo! it never yet was known that charity went unrequited +and this Constantine now learnt in his own +glad experience; for that same night, as he lay asleep, +God sent to him a vision of two strangers, men of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +noble face and form, whom he reverenced greatly, and +who said to him: “O Constantine, because thou hast +obeyed the voice of pity, thou hast deserved pity; +therefore shalt thou find such mercy, that God, in His +great pity, will save thee. Double healing shalt thou +receive, first for thy body, and next for thy woeful soul; +both alike shall be made whole. And that thou mayst +not despair, God will grant thee a sign—thy leprosy +shall not increase till thou hast sent to Mount Celion, +to Sylvester and all his clergy. There they dwell in +secret for dread of thee, who hast been a foe to the law +of Christ, and hast destroyed those who preach in His +Holy Name. Now thou hast appeased God somewhat +by thy good deed, since thou hast had pity on the +innocent blood, and hast spared it; for this thou shalt +find teaching, from Sylvester, to the salvation of both +body and soul. Thou wilt need no other leech.” The +emperor, who had listened with eagerness and awe, +now spoke: “Great thanks I owe to you, my lords, +and I will indeed do as ye have said; but one thing I +would pray you—what shall I tell Sylvester of the +name or estate of those who send me to him?” The +two strangers said: “We are the Apostles Peter and +Paul, who endured death here in thy city of Rome for +the Holy Name of Christ, and we bid Sylvester teach +and baptize thee into the true faith. So shall the +Roman Empire become the kingdom of the Lord and +of His Christ.” So saying, they blessed him, and passed +into the heavens out of his sight, and Constantine awoke +from his slumber and knew that he had seen a vision. +He called aloud eagerly, and his servants waiting in an +outer room ran in to him quickly, for there was urgency +in his voice. To them Constantine told his vision and +the command which was laid upon him.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Sylvester Summoned</h3> + +<p>Messengers rode in hot haste to Mount Celion, and +inquired long and anxiously for Sylvester. At last +they found him, a holy and venerable man, and summoned +him, saying: “The Emperor calls for thee: +come, therefore, at once.” Sylvester’s clergy were +greatly affrighted, not knowing what this summons +might mean, and dreading the death of their dear +bishop and master; but he went forth gladly, not +knowing to what fate he was going. When he was +brought to the palace the emperor greeted him kindly, +and told him all his dream, and the command of the +Apostles Peter and Paul, and ended with these words: +“Now I have done as the vision bade, and have fetched +thee here: tell me, I pray, the glad tidings which shall +bring healing to my body and soul.” When Sylvester +heard this speech he was filled with joy and wonder, +and thanked God for the vision He had sent to the +emperor, and then he began to preach to him the +Christian faith: he told of the Fall of Man, and the +redemption of the world by the death and resurrection +of Jesus Christ, of the Ascension of Jesus and His +return at the Day of Judgment, of the justice of God, +who will judge all men impartially according to their +works, good or bad, and of the life of joy or misery to +come. As Sylvester taught, the monarch listened and +believed, and, when the tale was ended, announced his +conversion to the true faith, and said he was ready, +with his whole heart and soul, to be baptized.</p> + + +<h3>Constantine Baptized</h3> + +<p>At the emperor’s command, they took the great +vessel of silver which had been made for the children’s +blood, and Sylvester bade them fill it with pure water +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +from the well. When that was done with all haste, +he bade Constantine stand therein, so that the water +reached his chin. As the holy rite began a great +light like the sun’s rays shone from heaven into the +place, and upon Constantine; and as the sacred words +were being read there fell now and again from his +body scales like those of a fish, till there was nothing +left of his horrible disease; and thus in baptism +Constantine was purified in body and soul.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr10.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_70" id="image_page_70"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">They filled the great vessel of silver with pure water</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER V: HAVELOK THE DANE</h2> + + +<h3>The Origin of the Story</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE Danish occupation of England has left a +very strong mark on our country in various +ways—on its place-names, its racial characteristics, +its language, its literature, and, in part, on +its ideals. The legend of Havelok the Dane, with +its popularity and widespread influence, is one result +of Danish supremacy. It is thought that the origin of +the legend, which contains a twofold version of the +common story of the cruel guardian and the persecuted +heir, is to be found in Wales; but, however that may +be, it is certain that in the continual rise and fall of small +tribal kingdoms, Celtic or Teutonic, English or Danish, +the circumstances out of which the story grew must +have been common enough. Kings who died leaving +helpless heirs to the guardianship of ambitious and +wicked nobles were not rare in the early days of +Britain, Wales, or Denmark; the murder of the heir +and the usurpation of the kingdom by the cruel regent +were no unusual occurrences. The opportunity of +localising the early legend seems to have come with +the growing fame of Anlaf, or Olaf, Sihtricson, who +was known to the Welsh as Abloec or Habloc. His +adventurous life included a threefold expulsion from +his inheritance of Northumbria, a marriage with the +daughter of King Constantine III. of Scotland, and a +family kinship with King Athelstan of England. In +Anlaf Curan (as he was called) we have an historical +hero on whom various romantic stories were gradually +fathered, because of his adventurous life and his strong +personality. These stories finally crystallized in a +form which shows the English and Danish love of +physical prowess (Havelok is the strongest man in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +kingdom), as well as a certain cruelty of revenge +which is more peculiarly Danish. There is resentment +of the Norman predominance to be found in the +popularity of a story which shows the kitchen-boy +excelling all the nobles in manly exercises, and the +heiress to the kingdom wedded in scorn, as so many +Saxon heiresses were after the Conquest, to a mere +scullion. There can be no doubt, however, that +Havelok stood to mediæval England as a hero of the +strong arm, a champion of the populace against the +ruling race, and that his royal birth and dignity were a +concession to historic facts and probabilities, not much +regarded by the common people. The story, again, +showed another truly humble hero, Grim the fisher, +whose loyalty was supposed to account for the special +trading privileges of his town, Grimsby. In Grim the +story found a character who was in reality a hero of +the poor and lowly, with the characteristic devotion of +the tribesman to his chief, of the vassal to his lord, a +devotion which was handed on from father to son, so +that a second generation continued the services, and +received the rewards, of the father who risked life and +all for the sake of his king’s heir.</p> + +<p>The reader will not fail to notice the characteristic +anachronisms which give to life in Saxon England in +the tenth century the colour of the Norman chivalry of +the thirteenth.</p> + + +<h3>Havelok and Godard</h3> + +<p>In Denmark, long ago, lived a good king named +Birkabeyn, rich and powerful, a great warrior and a +man of mighty prowess, whose rule was undisputed +over the whole realm. He had three children—two +daughters, named Swanborow and Elfleda the Fair, and +one young and goodly son, Havelok, the heir to all +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +his dominions. All too soon came the day that no +man can avoid, when Death would call King Birkabeyn +away, and he grieved sore over his young children to +be left fatherless and unprotected; but, after much +reflection, and prayers to God for wisdom to help +his choice, he called to him Jarl Godard, a trusted +counsellor and friend, and committed into his hands +the care of the realm and of the three royal children, +until Havelok should be of age to be knighted and +rule the land himself. King Birkabeyn felt that such a +charge was too great a temptation for any man unbound +by oaths of fealty and honour, and although he did not +distrust his friend, he required Godard to swear,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“By altar and by holy service book,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By bells that call the faithful to the church,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By blessed sacrament, and sacred rites,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Holy Rood, and Him who died thereon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou wilt truly rule and keep my realm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wilt guard my babes in love and loyalty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until my son be grown, and dubbèd knight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou wilt then resign to him his land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His power and rule, and all that owns his sway.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Jarl Godard took this most solemn oath at once +with many protestations of affection and whole-hearted +devotion to the dying king and his heir, and King +Birkabeyn died happy in the thought that his children +would be well cared for during their helpless youth.</p> + +<p>When the funeral rites were celebrated Jarl Godard +assumed the rule of the country, and, under pretext of +securing the safety of the royal children, removed them +to a strong castle, where no man was allowed access to +them, and where they were kept so closely that the +royal residence became a prison in all but name. +Godard, finding Denmark submit to his government +without resistance, began to adopt measures to rid +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +himself of the real heirs to the throne, and gave orders +that food and clothes should be supplied to the three +children in such scanty quantities that they might die of +hardship; but since they were slow to succumb to this +cruel, torturing form of murder, he resolved to slay +them suddenly, knowing that no one durst call him to +account. Having steeled his heart against all pitiful +thoughts, he went to the castle, and was taken to the +inner dungeon where the poor babes lay shivering and +weeping for cold and hunger. As he entered, Havelok, +who was even then a bold lad, greeted him courteously, +and knelt before him, with clasped hands, begging a +boon.</p> + +<p>“Why do you weep and wail so sore?” asked +Godard.</p> + +<p>“Because we are so hungry,” answered Havelok. +“We have so little food, and we have no servants to +wait on us; they do not give us half as much as we +could eat; we are shivering with cold, and our clothes +are all in rags. Woe to us that we were ever born! Is +there in the land no more corn with which men can +make bread for us? We are nearly dead from hunger.”</p> + +<p>These pathetic words had no effect on Godard, who +had resolved to yield to no pity and show no mercy. +He seized the two little girls as they lay cowering +together, clasping one another for warmth, and cut their +throats, letting the bodies of the hapless babies fall to +the floor in a pool of blood; and then, turning to +Havelok, aimed his knife at the boy’s heart. The poor +child, terrified by the awful fate of the two girls, knelt +again before him and begged for mercy:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Fair lord, have mercy on me now, I pray!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look on my helpless youth, and pity me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, let me live, and I will yield you all—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My realm of Denmark will I leave to you,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And swear that I will ne’er assail your sway.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, pity me, lord! be compassionate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will flee far from this land of mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vow that Birkabeyn was ne’er my sire!”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Jarl Godard was touched by Havelok’s piteous speech, +and felt some faint compassion, so that he could not +slay the lad himself; yet he knew that his only safety +was in Havelok’s death.</p> + +<p>“If I let him go,” thought he, “Havelok will at last +work me woe! I shall have no peace in my life, and +my children after me will not hold the lordship of Denmark +in safety, if Havelok escapes! Yet I cannot slay +him with my own hands. I will have him cast into the +sea with an anchor about his neck: thus at least his +body will not float.”</p> + +<p>Godard left Havelok kneeling in terror, and, striding +from the tower, leaving the door locked behind him, he +sent for an ignorant fisherman, Grim, who, he thought, +could be frightened into doing his will. When Grim +came he was led into an ante-room, where Godard, with +terrible look and voice, addressed him thus:</p> + +<p>“Grim, thou knowest thou art my thrall.” “Yea, +fair lord,” quoth Grim, trembling at Godard’s stern +voice. “And I can slay thee if thou dost disobey me.” +“Yea, lord; but how have I offended you?” “Thou +hast not yet; but I have a task for thee, and if thou +dost it not, dire punishment shall fall upon thee.” +“Lord, what is the work that I must do?” asked the +poor fisherman. “Tarry: I will show thee.” Then +Godard went into the inner room of the tower, whence +he returned leading a fair boy, who wept bitterly. +“Take this boy secretly to thy house, and keep him +there till dead of night; then launch thy boat, row out +to sea, and fling him therein with an anchor round his +neck, so that I shall see him never again.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +Grim looked curiously at the weeping boy, and said: +“What reward shall I have if I work this sin for +you?”</p> + +<p>Godard replied: “The sin will be on my head as I +am thy lord and bid thee do it; but I will make thee a +freeman, noble and rich, and my friend, if thou wilt do +this secretly and discreetly.”</p> + +<p>Thus reassured and bribed, Grim suddenly took the +boy, flung him to the ground, and bound him hand +and foot with cord which he took from his pockets. +So anxious was he to secure the boy that he drew the +cords very tight, and Havelok suffered terrible pain; +he could not cry out, for a handful of rags was thrust +into his mouth and over his nostrils, so that he could +hardly breathe. Then Grim flung the poor boy into a +horrible black sack, and carried him thus from the +castle, as if he were bringing home broken food for his +family. When Grim reached his poor cottage, where +his wife Leve was waiting for him, he slung the +sack from his shoulder and gave it to her, saying, +“Take good care of this boy as of thy life. I am to +drown him at midnight, and if I do so my lord has +promised to make me a free man and give me great +wealth.”</p> + +<p>When Dame Leve heard this she sprang up and +flung the lad down in a corner, and nearly broke his +head with the crash against the earthen floor. There +Havelok lay, bruised and aching, while the couple +went to sleep, leaving the room all dark but for the +red glow from the fire. At midnight Grim awoke to +do his lord’s behest, and Dame Leve, going to the +living-room to kindle a light, was terrified by a +mysterious gleam as bright as day which shone around +the boy on the floor and streamed from his mouth. +Leve hastily called Grim to see this wonder, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +together they released Havelok from the gag and +bonds and examined his body, when they found on the +right shoulder the token of true royalty, a cross of red +gold.</p> + +<p>“God knows,” quoth Grim, “that this is the heir of +our land. He will come to rule in good time, will bear +sway over England and Denmark, and will punish the +cruel Godard.” Then, weeping sore, the loyal fisherman +fell down at Havelok’s feet, crying, “Lord, have +mercy on me and my wife! We are thy thralls, and +never will we do aught against thee. We will nourish +thee until thou canst rule, and will hide thee from +Godard; and thou wilt perchance give me my freedom +in return for thy life.”</p> + +<p>At this unexpected address Havelok sat up surprised, +and rubbed his bruised head and said: “I am nearly +dead, what with hunger, and thy cruel bonds, and the +gag. Now bring me food in plenty!” “Yea, lord,” +said Dame Leve, and bustled about, bringing the best +they had in the hut; and Havelok ate as if he had +fasted for three days; and then he was put to bed, and +slept in peace while Grim watched over him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr11.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_78" id="image_page_78"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Havelok sat up surprised”</p> + +<p>However, Grim went the next morning to Jarl Godard +and said: “Lord, I have done your behest, and drowned +the boy with an anchor about his neck. He is safe, +and now, I pray you, give me my reward, the gold and +other treasures, and make me a freeman as you have +promised.” But Godard only looked fiercely at him +and said: “What, wouldst thou be an earl? Go home, +thou foul churl, and be ever a thrall! It is enough +reward that I do not hang thee now for insolence, and +for thy wicked deeds. Go speedily, else thou mayst +stand and palter with me too long.” And Grim shrank +quietly away, lest Godard should slay him for the +murder of Havelok.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +Now Grim saw in what a terrible plight he stood, at +the mercy of this cruel and treacherous man, and he +took counsel with himself and consulted his wife, and +the two decided to flee from Denmark to save their +lives. Gradually Grim sold all his stock, his cattle, his +nets, everything that he owned, and turned it into good +pieces of gold; then he bought and secretly fitted out +and provisioned a ship, and at last, when all was ready, +carried on board Havelok (who had lain hidden all this +time), his own three sons and two daughters; then +when he and his wife had gone on board he set sail, +and, driven by a favourable wind, reached the shores of +England.</p> + + +<h3>Goldborough and Earl Godrich</h3> + +<p>Meanwhile in England a somewhat similar fate had +befallen a fair princess named Goldborough. When +her father, King Athelwold, lay dying all his people +mourned, for he was the flower of all fair England for +knighthood, justice, and mercy; and he himself grieved +sorely for the sake of his little daughter, soon to be left +an orphan. “What will she do?” moaned he. “She +can neither speak nor walk! If she were only able to +ride, to rule England, and to guard herself from shame, +I should have no grief, even if I died and left her +alone, while I lived in the joy of paradise!”</p> + +<p>Then Athelwold summoned a council to be held at +Winchester, and asked the advice of the nobles as to +the care of the infant Goldborough. They with one +accord recommended Earl Godrich of Cornwall to be +made regent for the little princess; and the earl, on +being appointed, swore with all solemn rites that he +would marry her at twelve years old to the highest, +the best, fairest, and strongest man alive, and in the +meantime would train her in all royal virtues and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +customs. So King Athelwold died, and was buried +with great lamentations, and Godrich ruled the land as +regent. He was a strict but just governor, and England +had great peace, without and within, under his severe +rule, for all lived in awe of him, though no man loved +him. Goldborough grew and throve in all ways, and +became famous through the land for her gracious +beauty and gentle and virtuous demeanour. This +roused the jealousy of Earl Godrich, who had played +the part of king so long that he almost believed himself +King of England, and he began to consider how +he could secure the kingdom for himself and his son. +Thereupon he had Goldborough taken from Winchester, +where she kept royal state, to Dover, where she was +imprisoned in the castle, and strictly secluded from all +her friends; there she remained, with poor clothes and +scanty food, awaiting a champion to uphold her right.</p> + + +<h3>Havelok Becomes Cook’s Boy</h3> + +<p>When Grim sailed from Denmark to England he +landed in the Humber, at the place now called Grimsby, +and there established himself as a fisherman. So successful +was he that for twelve years he supported his +family well, and carried his catches of fish far afield, +even to Lincoln, where rare fish always brought a good +price. In all this time Grim never once called on +Havelok for help in the task of feeding the family; he +reverenced his king, and the whole household served +Havelok with the utmost deference, and often went +with scanty rations to satisfy the boy’s great appetite. +At length Havelok began to think how selfishly he +was living, and how much food he consumed, and was +filled with shame when he realized how his foster-father +toiled unweariedly while he did nothing to help. In +his remorseful meditations it became clear to him that, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +though a king’s son, he ought to do some useful work. +“Of what use,” thought he, “is my great strength and +stature if I do not employ it for some good purpose? +There is no shame in honest toil. I will work for my +food, and try to make some return to Father Grim, +who has done so much for me. I will gladly bear his +baskets of fish to market, and I will begin to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>On the next day, in spite of Grim’s protests +Havelok carried a load of fish equal to four men’s +burden to Grimsby market, and sold it successfully, +returning home with the money he received; and this +he did day by day, till a famine arose and fish and +food both became scarce. Then Grim, more concerned +for Havelok than for his own children, called the youth +to him and bade him try his fortunes in Lincoln, for +his own sake and for theirs; he would be better fed, +and the little food Grim could get would go further +among the others if Havelok were not there. The one +obstacle in the way was Havelok’s lack of clothes, and +Grim overcame that by sacrificing his boat’s sail to +make Havelok a coarse tunic. That done, they bade +each other farewell, and Havelok started for Lincoln, +barefooted and bareheaded, for his only garment was +the sailcloth tunic. In Lincoln Havelok found no +friends and no food for two days, and he was desperate +and faint with hunger, when he heard a call: “Porters, +porters! hither to me!” Roused to new vigour by +the chance of work, Havelok rushed with the rest, +and bore down and hurled aside the other porters so +vigorously that he was chosen to carry provisions for +Bertram, the earl’s cook; and in return he received +the first meal he had eaten for nearly three days.</p> + +<p>On the next day Havelok again overthrew the +porters, and, knocking down at least sixteen, secured the +work. This time he had to carry fish, and his basket +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +was so laden that he bore nearly a cartload, with +which he ran to the castle. There the cook, amazed at +his strength, first gave him a hearty meal, and then +offered him good service under himself, with food and +lodging for his wages. This offer Havelok accepted, +and was installed as cook’s boy, and employed in all the +lowest offices—carrying wood, water, turf, hewing logs, +lifting, fetching, carrying—and in all he showed himself +a wonderfully strong worker, with unfailing good +temper and gentleness, so that the little children all +loved the big, gentle, fair-haired youth who worked +so quietly and played with them so merrily. When +Havelok’s old tunic became worn out, his master, the +cook, took pity on him and gave him a new suit, and +then it could be seen how handsome and tall and strong +a youth this cook’s boy really was, and his fame spread +far and wide round Lincoln Town.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr12.jpg" width="409" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_82" id="image_page_82"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Havelok again overthrew the porters”</p> + + +<h3>Havelok and Goldborough</h3> + +<p>At the great fair of Lincoln, sports of all kinds were +indulged in, and in these Havelok took his part, for +the cook, proud of his mighty scullion, urged him to +compete in all the games and races. As Earl Godrich +had summoned his Parliament to meet that year at +Lincoln, there was a great concourse of spectators, +and even the powerful Earl Regent himself sometimes +watched the sports and cheered the champions. The +first contest was “putting the stone,” and the stone +chosen was so weighty that none but the most stalwart +could lift it above the knee—none could raise it to his +breast. This sport was new to Havelok, who had +never seen it before, but when the cook bade him try +his strength he lifted the stone easily and threw it +more than twelve feet. This mighty deed caused his +fame to be spread, not only among the poor servants +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +with whom Havelok was classed, but also among the +barons, their masters, and Havelok’s Stone became a +landmark in Lincoln. Thus Godrich heard of a youth +who stood head and shoulders taller than other men +and was stronger, more handsome—and yet a mere +common scullion. The news brought him a flash of +inspiration: “Here is the highest, strongest, best man +in all England, and him shall Goldborough wed. I +shall keep my vow to the letter, and England must fall +to me, for Goldborough’s royal blood will be lost by +her marriage with a thrall, the people will refuse her +obedience, and England will cast her out.”</p> + +<p>Godrich therefore brought Goldborough to Lincoln, +received her with bell-ringing and seemly rejoicing, +and bade her prepare for her wedding. This the +princess refused to do until she knew who was her +destined husband, for she said she would wed no man +who was not of royal birth. Her firmness drove Earl +Godrich to fierce wrath, and he burst out: “Wilt thou +be queen and mistress over me? Thy pride shall be +brought down: thou shalt have no royal spouse: a +vagabond and scullion shalt thou wed, and that no +later than to-morrow! Curses on him who speaks thee +fair!” In vain the princess wept and bemoaned herself: +the wedding was fixed for the morrow morn.</p> + +<p>The next day at dawn Earl Godrich sent for Havelok, +the mighty cook’s boy, and asked him: “Wilt +thou take a wife?”</p> + +<p>“Nay,” quoth Havelok, “that will I not. I cannot +feed her, much less clothe and lodge her. My very +garments are not my own, but belong to the cook, my +master.” Godrich fell upon Havelok and beat him +furiously, saying, “Unless thou wilt take the wench I +give thee for wife I will hang or blind thee”; and so, +in great fear, Havelok agreed to the wedding. At +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +once Goldborough was brought, and forced into an +immediate marriage, under penalty of banishment or +burning as a witch if she refused. And thus the unwilling +couple were united by the Archbishop of York, +who had come to attend the Parliament.</p> + +<p>Never was there so sad a wedding! The people +murmured greatly at this unequal union, and pitied the +poor princess, thus driven to wed a man of low birth; +and Goldborough herself wept pitifully, but resigned +herself to God’s will. All men now acknowledged with +grief that she and her husband could have no claim to +the English throne, and thus Godrich seemed to have +gained his object. Havelok and his unwilling bride +recognised that they would not be safe near Godrich, +and as Havelok had no home in Lincoln to which he +could take the princess, he determined to go back to his +faithful foster-father, Grim, and put the fair young bride +under his loyal protection. Sorrowfully, with grief and +shame in their hearts, Havelok and Goldborough made +their way on foot to Grimsby, only to find the loyal +Grim dead; but his five children were alive and in +prosperity. When they saw Havelok and his wife they +fell on their knees and saluted them with all respect +and reverence. In their joy to see their king again, +these worthy fisherfolk forgot their newly won wealth, +and said: “Welcome, dear lord, and thy fair lady! +What joy is ours to see thee again, for thy subjects are +we, and thou canst do with us as thou wilt. All that +we have is thine, and if thou wilt dwell with us we will +serve thee and thy wife truly in all ways!” This +greeting surprised Goldborough, who began to suspect +some mystery, and she was greatly comforted when +brothers and sisters busied themselves in lighting fires, +cooking meals, and waiting on her hand and foot, as if +she had been indeed a king’s wife. Havelok, however, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +said nothing to explain the mystery, and Goldborough +that night lay awake bewailing her fate as a thrall’s +bride, even though he was the fairest man in England.</p> + + +<h3>The Revelation and Return to Denmark</h3> + +<p>As Goldborough lay sleepless and unhappy she became +aware of a brilliant light shining around Havelok +and streaming from his mouth; and while she feared +and wondered an angelic voice cried to her:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Fair Princess, cease this grief and heavy moan!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Havelok, thy newly wedded spouse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is son and heir to famous kings: the sign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou findest in the cross of ruddy gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shineth on his shoulder. He shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Monarch and ruler of two mighty realms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Denmark and England shall obey his rule,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he shall sway them with a sure command.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This shalt thou see with thine own eyes, and be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lady and Queen, with Havelok, o’er these lands.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>This angelic message so gladdened Goldborough that +she kissed, for the first time, her unconscious husband, +who started up from his sleep, saying, “Dear love, +sleepest thou? I have had a wondrous dream. I +thought I sat on a lofty hill, and saw all Denmark +before me. As I stretched out my arms I embraced it +all, and the people clung to my arms, and the castles +fell at my feet; then I flew over the salt sea with the +Danish people clinging to me, and I closed all fair +England in my hand, and gave it to thee, dear love! +Now what can this mean?”</p> + +<p>Goldborough answered joyfully: “It means, dear +heart, that thou shalt be King of Denmark and of England +too: all these realms shall fall into thy power, and +thou shalt be ruler in Denmark within one year. Now +do thou follow my advice, and let us go to Denmark, +taking with us Grim’s three sons, who will accompany +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +thee for love and loyalty; and have no fear, for I know +thou wilt succeed.”</p> + +<p>The next morning Havelok went to church early, and +prayed humbly and heartily for success in his enterprise +and retribution on the false traitor Godard; then, laying +his offering on the altar before the Cross, he went away +glad in heart. Grim’s three sons, Robert the Red, +William Wendut, and Hugh the Raven, joyfully consented +to go with Havelok to Denmark, to attack with +all their power the false Jarl Godard and to win the +kingdom for the rightful heir. Their wives and families +stayed in England, but Goldborough would not leave +her husband, and after a short voyage the party landed +safely on the shores of Denmark, in the lands of Jarl +Ubbe, an old friend of King Birkabeyn, who lived far +from the court now that a usurper held sway in Denmark.</p> + + +<h3>Havelok and Ubbe</h3> + +<p>Havelok dared not reveal himself and his errand +until he knew more of the state of parties in the +country, and he therefore only begged permission to +live and trade there, giving Ubbe, as a token of goodwill +and a tribute to his power, a valuable ring, which +the jarl prized greatly. Ubbe, gazing at the so-called +merchant’s great stature and beauty, lamented that he +was not of noble birth, and planned to persuade him +to take up the profession of arms. At first, however, +he simply granted Havelok permission to trade, and +invited him and Goldborough to a feast, promising +them safety and honour under his protection. Havelok +dreaded lest his wife’s beauty might place them in +jeopardy, but he dared not refuse the invitation, which +was pointedly given to both; accordingly, when they +went to Ubbe’s hall, Goldborough was escorted by +Robert the Red and William Wendut.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +Ubbe received them with all honour, and all men +marvelled at Goldborough’s beauty, and Ubbe’s wife +loved Goldborough at first sight as her husband did +Havelok, so that the feast passed off with all joy and +mirth, and none dared raise a hand or lift his voice +against the wandering merchant whom Ubbe so strangely +favoured. But Ubbe knew that when once Havelok +and his wife were away from his protection there would +be little safety for them, since the rough Danish nobles +would think nothing of stealing a trader’s fair wife, and +many a man had cast longing eyes on Goldborough’s +loveliness. Therefore when the feast was over, and +Havelok took his leave, Ubbe sent with him a body of +ten knights and sixty men-at-arms, and recommended +them to the magistrate of the town, Bernard Brown, +a true and upright man, bidding him, as he prized +his life, keep the strangers in safety and honour. Well +it was that Ubbe and Bernard Brown took these precautions, +for late at night a riotous crowd came to +Bernard’s house clamouring for admittance. Bernard +withstood the angry mob, armed with a great axe, but +they burst the door in by hurling a huge stone; and +then Havelok joined in the defence. He drew out the +great beam which barred the door, and crying, “Come +quickly to me, and you shall stay here! Curses on him +who flees!” began to lay about him with the big beam, so +that three fell dead at once. A terrible fight followed, in +which Havelok, armed only with the beam, slew twenty +men in armour, and was then sore beset by the rest of the +troop, aiming darts and arrows at his unarmoured breast. +It was going hardly with him, when Hugh the Raven, +hearing and understanding the cries of the assailants, +called his brothers to their lord’s aid, and they all joined +the fight so furiously that, long ere day, of the sixty men +who had attacked the inn not one remained alive.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +In the morning news was brought to Jarl Ubbe that +his stranger guest had slain sixty of the best of his +soldiery.</p> + +<p>“What can this mean?” said Ubbe. “I had better +go and see to it myself, for any messenger would +surely treat Havelok discourteously, and I should be +full loath to do that.” He rode away to the house of +Bernard Brown, and asked the meaning of its damaged +and battered appearance.</p> + +<p>“My lord,” answered Bernard Brown, “last night +at moonrise there came a band of sixty thieves who +would have plundered my house and bound me hand +and foot. When Havelok and his companions saw it +they came to my aid, with sticks and stones, and drove +out the robbers like dogs from a mill. Havelok himself +slew three at one blow. Never have I seen a warrior +so good! He is worth a thousand in a fray. But +alas! he is grievously wounded, with three deadly +gashes in side and arm and thigh, and at least twenty +smaller wounds. I am scarcely harmed at all, but I +fear he will die full soon.”</p> + +<p>Ubbe could scarcely believe so strange a tale, but all +the bystanders swore that Bernard told nothing but the +bare truth, and that the whole gang of thieves, with +their leader, Griffin the Welshman, had been slain by +the hero and his small party. Then Ubbe bade them +bring Havelok, that he might call a leech to heal his +wounds, for if the stranger merchant should live Jarl +Ubbe would without fail dub him knight; and when the +leech had seen the wounds he said the patient would +make a good and quick recovery. Then Ubbe offered +Havelok and his wife a dwelling in his own castle, +under his own protection, till Havelok’s grievous +wounds were healed. There, too, fair Goldborough +would be under the care of Ubbe’s wife, who would +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +cherish her as her own daughter. This kind offer was +accepted gladly, and they all went to the castle, where a +room was given them next to Ubbe’s own.</p> + +<p>At midnight Ubbe woke, aroused by a bright light +in Havelok’s room, which was only separated from his +own by a slight wooden partition. He was vexed +suspecting his guest of midnight wassailing, and went +to inquire what villainy might be hatching. To his +surprise, both husband and wife were sound asleep, but +the light shone from Havelok’s mouth, and made a +glory round his head. Utterly amazed at the marvel, +Ubbe went away silently, and returned with all the +garrison of his castle to the room where his guests +still lay sleeping. As they gazed on the light Havelok +turned in his sleep, and they saw on his shoulder the +golden cross, shining like the sun, which all men knew +to be the token of royal birth. Then Ubbe exclaimed: +“Now I know who this is, and why I loved him so +dearly at first sight: this is the son of our dead King +Birkabeyn. Never was man so like another as this man +is to the dead king: he is his very image and his true +heir.” With great joy they fell on their knees and +kissed him eagerly, and Havelok awoke and began to +scowl furiously, for he thought it was some treacherous +attack; but Ubbe soon undeceived him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr13.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_88" id="image_page_88"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“With great joy they fell on their knees”</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Dear lord,’ quoth he, ‘be thou in naught dismayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in thine eyes methinks I see thy thought—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear son, great joy is mine to live this day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My homage, lord, I freely offer thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy loyal men and vassals are we all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thou art son of mighty Birkabeyn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soon shalt conquer all thy father’s land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though thou art young and almost friendless here.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-morrow will we swear our fealty due,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dub thee knight, for prowess unexcelled.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Now Havelok knew that his worst danger was over, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +and he thanked God for the friend He had sent him, +and left to the good Jarl Ubbe the management of his +cause. Ubbe gathered an assembly of as many mighty +men of the realm, and barons, and good citizens, as he +could summon; and when they were all assembled, +pondering what was the cause of this imperative +summons, Ubbe arose and said:</p> + +<p>“Gentles, bear with me if I tell you first things well +known to you. Ye know that King Birkabeyn ruled +this land until his death-day, and that he left three +children—one son, Havelok, and two daughters—to the +guardianship of Jarl Godard: ye all heard him swear +to keep them loyally and treat them well. But ye do +not know how he kept his oath! The false traitor +slew both the maidens, and would have slain the boy, +but for pity he would not kill the child with his own +hands. He bade a fisherman drown him in the sea; +but when the good man knew that it was the rightful +heir, he saved the boy’s life and fled with him to +England, where Havelok has been brought up for +many years. And now, behold! here he stands. In +all the world he has no peer, and ye may well rejoice +in the beauty and manliness of your king. Come now +and pay homage to Havelok, and I myself will be your +leader!”</p> + +<p>Jarl Ubbe turned to Havelok, where he stood with +Goldborough beside him, and knelt before him to do +homage, an example which was followed by all present. +At a second and still larger assembly held a fortnight +later a similar oath of fealty was sworn by all, Havelok +was dubbed knight by the noble Ubbe, and a great +festival was celebrated, with sports and amusements for +the populace. A council of war and vengeance was +held with the great nobles.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<h3>The Death of Godard</h3> + +<p>Havelok, now acknowledged King of Denmark, +was unsatisfied until he had punished the treacherous +Godard, and he took a solemn oath from his soldiers +that they would never cease the search for the traitor +till they had captured him and brought him bound to +judgment. After all, Godard was captured as he was +hunting. Grim’s three sons, now knighted by King +Havelok, met him in the forest, and bade him come +to the king, who called on him to remember and +account for his treatment of Birkabeyn’s children. +Godard struck out furiously with his fists, but Sir +Robert the Red wounded him in the right arm. When +Godard’s men joined in the combat, Robert and his +brothers soon slew ten of their adversaries, and the +rest fled; returning, ashamed at the bitter reproaches +of their lord, they were all slain by Havelok’s men. +Godard was taken, bound hand and foot, placed on a +miserable jade with his face to the tail, and so led to +Havelok. The king refused to be the judge of his +own cause, and entrusted to Ubbe the task of presiding +at the traitor’s trial. No mercy was shown to the cruel +Jarl Godard, and he was condemned to a traitor’s +death, with torments of terrible barbarity. The sentence +was carried out to the letter, and Denmark rejoiced in +the punishment of a cruel villain.</p> + + +<h3>Death of Godrich</h3> + +<p>Meanwhile Earl Godrich of Cornwall had heard +with great uneasiness that Havelok had become King +of Denmark, and intended to invade England with a +mighty army to assert his wife’s right to the throne. +He recognised that his own device to shame Goldborough +had turned against him, and that he must +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +now fight for his life and the usurped dominion he held +over England. Godrich summoned his army to Lincoln +for the defence of the realm against the Danes, and +called out every man fit to bear weapons, on pain of +becoming thrall if they failed him. Then he thus +addressed them:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Friends, listen to my words, and you will know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis not for sport, nor idle show, that I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have bidden you to meet at Lincoln here.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! here at Grimsby foreigners are come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who have already won the Priory.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These Danes are cruel heathen, who destroy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our churches and our abbeys: priests and nuns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They torture to the death, or lead away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To serve as slaves the haughty Danish jarls.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, Englishmen, what counsel will ye take?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If we submit, they will rule all our land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will kill us all, and sell our babes for thralls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will take our wives and daughters for their own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help me, if ever ye loved English land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fight these heathen and to cleanse our soil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From hateful presence of these alien hordes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I make my vow to God and all the saints<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not rest, nor houseled be, nor shriven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until our realm be free from Danish foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Accursed be he who strikes no blow for home!”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The army was inspired with valour by these courageous +words, and the march to Grimsby began at +once, with Earl Godrich in command. Havelok’s men +marched out gallantly to meet them, and when the +battle joined many mighty deeds of valour were done, +especially by the king himself, his foster-brothers, and +Jarl Ubbe. The battle lasted long and was very fierce +and bloody, but the Danes gradually overcame the +resistance of the English, and at last, after a great hand-to-hand +conflict, King Havelok captured Godrich. The +traitor earl, who had lost a hand in the fray, was sent +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +bound and fettered to Queen Goldborough, who kept +him, carefully guarded, until he could be tried by his +peers, since (for all his treason) he was still a knight.</p> + +<p>When the English recognised their rightful lady +and queen they did homage with great joy, begging +mercy for having resisted their lawful ruler at the +command of a wicked traitor; and the king and queen +pardoned all but Godrich, who was speedily brought +to trial at Lincoln. He was sentenced to be burnt +at the stake, and the sentence was carried out amid +general rejoicings.</p> + +<p>Now that vengeance was satisfied, Havelok and his +wife thought of recompensing the loyal helpers who +had believed in them and supported them through +the long years of adversity. Havelok married one +of Grim’s daughters to the Earl of Chester, and the +other to Bertram, the good cook, who became Earl +of Cornwall in the place of the felon Godrich and +his disinherited children; the heroic Ubbe was made +Regent of Denmark for Havelok, who decided to stay +and rule England, and all the noble Danish warriors +were rewarded with gifts of gold, and lands and castles. +After a great coronation feast, which lasted for forty +days, King Havelok dismissed the Danish regent and +his followers, and after sad farewells they returned to +their own country. Havelok and Goldborough ruled +England in peace and security for sixty years, and lived +together in all bliss, and had fifteen children, who all +became mighty kings and queens.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER VI: HOWARD THE HALT</h2> + + +<h3>Introduction</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>N every society and in all periods the obligations +of family affection and duty to kinsmen have been +recognised as paramount. In the early European +communities a man’s first duty was to stand by his +kinsman in strife and to avenge him in death, however +unrighteous the kinsman’s quarrel might be.</p> + +<p>How pitiful is the aged Priam’s lament that he must +needs kiss the hands that slew his dear son Hector, and, +kneeling, clasp the knees of his son’s murderer! How +sad is Cuchulain’s plaint that his son Connla must go +down to the grave unavenged, since his own father slew +him, all unwitting! One remembers, too, Beowulf’s +words: “Better it is for every man that he avenge his +friend than that he mourn him much!” Since, then, +family affection, the laws of honour and duty, and every +recognised standard of life demanded that a kinsman +should obtain a full wergild (or money payment) for his +relative’s death, unless he chose to take up the blood-feud +against the murderer’s family, we can hardly +wonder that some of the heroes of early European +literature are heroes of vengeance. Orestes and Electra +are Greek embodiments of the idea of the sacredness of +vengeance for murdered kinsfolk, and similar feelings +are revealed in Gudrun’s revenge for the murder of +Siegfried in the “Nibelungenlied.” To the Teutonic +or Celtic warrior there would be heroism of a noble +type in a just vengeance fully accomplished, and this +heroism would be more easily recognised when the +wrongdoer was rich and powerful, the avenger old, +poor, and friendless. While admitting that the hero +of vengeance belongs to and represents only one side of +the civilisation of a somewhat barbaric community, we +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +must allow that the elements of dogged perseverance, +dauntless courage, and resolute loyalty in some degree +redeemed the ferocity and cruelty of the blood-feud he +waged against the ill-doer.</p> + +<p>It is certain that in the popular Icelandic saga of +“Howard the Halt” tradition has recorded with minute +detail of approbation the story of a man and woman, old, +weak, friendless, who, in spite of terrible odds, succeeded +in obtaining a late but sufficing vengeance for the cruel +slaughter of their only son, the murderer being the most +powerful man of the region. The part here assigned +to the woman indicates the firm hold which the blood-feud +had gained on the imagination of the Norsemen.</p> + + +<h3>Icelandic Ghosts</h3> + +<p>The story possesses a further interest as revealing +the unique character of the Icelandic ghost or phantom. +In other literatures the spirit returned from the dead +is a thin, immaterial, disembodied essence, a faint +shadow of its former self; in Icelandic legend the +spirit returns in full possession of its body, but more +evil-disposed to mankind than before death. It fights +and wrestles, pummels its adversary black and blue, it +is huge and bloated and hideous, it tries to strangle +men, and leaves finger-marks on their throats. If the +ghosts are those of drowned men, they come home +every night dripping with sea-water, and crowd the +family from the fire and from the hall. Apparently +they are evil spirits animating the dead body, and +nothing but the utter destruction of the body avails +to drive away the malignant spirit.</p> + + +<h3>The Story. Howard and Thorbiorn</h3> + +<p>Thus runs the saga of “Howard the Halt”:</p> + +<p>About the year 1000, when the Christian faith had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +hardly yet been heard of in Iceland, there dwelt at +Bathstead, on the shores of Icefirth, in that far-distant +land a mighty chieftain, of royal descent and great +wealth, named Thorbiorn. Though not among the +first settlers of Iceland, he had appropriated much unclaimed +land, and was one of the leading men of the +country-side, but was generally disliked for his arrogance +and injustice. Thorkel, the lawman and arbitrator of +Icefirth, was weak and easily cowed, so Thorbiorn’s +wrongdoing remained unchecked; many a maiden had +he betrothed to himself, and afterwards rejected, and +many a man had he ousted from his lands, yet no redress +could be obtained, and no man was bold enough +to attack so great a chieftain or resist his will. Thorbiorn’s +house at Bathstead was one of the best in the +district, and his lands stretched down to the shores of +the firth, where he had made a haven with a jetty for +ships. His boathouse stood a little back above a ridge +of shingle, and beside a deep pool or lagoon. The +household of Thorbiorn included Sigrid, a fair maiden, +young and wealthy, who was his housekeeper; Vakr, +an ill-conditioned and malicious fellow, Thorbiorn’s +nephew; and a strong and trusted serving-man named +Brand. Besides these there were house-carles in plenty, +and labourers, all good fighting-men.</p> + +<p>Not far from Bathstead, at Bluemire, dwelt an old +Viking called Howard. He was of honourable descent, +and had won fame in earlier Viking expeditions, but +since he had returned lamed and nearly helpless from +his last voyage he had aged greatly, and men called +him Howard the Halt. His wife, Biargey, however, +was an active and stirring woman, and their only son, +Olaf, bade fair to become a redoubtable warrior. Though +only fifteen, Olaf had reached full stature, was tall, fair, +handsome, and stronger than most men. He wore his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +fair hair long, and always went bareheaded, for his great +bodily strength defied even the bitter winter cold of +Iceland, and he faced the winds clad in summer raiment +only. With all his strength and beauty, Olaf was a +loving and obedient son to Howard and Biargey, and +the couple loved him as the apple of their eye.</p> + + +<h3>Olaf Meets Sigrid</h3> + +<p>The men of Icefirth were wont to drive their sheep +into the mountains during the summer, leave them +there till autumn, and then, collecting the scattered +flocks, to restore to each man his own branded sheep. +One autumn the flocks were wild and shy, and it was +found that many sheep had strayed in the hills. When +those that had been gathered were divided Thorbiorn +had lost at least sixty wethers, and was greatly vexed. +Some weeks later Olaf Howardson went alone into the +hills, and returned with all the lost sheep, having sought +them with great toil and danger. Olaf drove the rest +of the sheep home to their grateful owners, and then +took Thorbiorn’s to Bathstead. Reaching the house +at noonday, he knocked on the door, and as all men sat +at their noontide meal, the housekeeper, the fair Sigrid, +went forth herself and saw Olaf.</p> + +<p>She greeted him courteously and asked his business, +and he replied, “I have brought home Thorbiorn’s +wethers which strayed this autumn,” and then the two +talked together for a short time. Now Thorbiorn was +curious to know what the business might be, and sent +his nephew Vakr to see who was there; he went +secretly and listened to the conversation between Sigrid +and Olaf, but heard little, for Olaf was just saying, “Then +I need not go in to Thorbiorn; thou, Sigrid, canst as +well tell him where his sheep are now”; then he simply +bade her farewell and turned away.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr14.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_98" id="image_page_98"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Olaf and Sigrid</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +Vakr ran back into the hall, shouting and laughing, +till Thorbiorn asked: “How now, nephew! Why +makest thou such outcry? Who is there?”</p> + +<p>“It was Olaf Howardson, the great booby of Bluemire, +bringing back the sheep thou didst lose in the +autumn.”</p> + +<p>“That was a neighbourly deed,” said Thorbiorn.</p> + +<p>“Ah! but there was another reason for his coming, +I think,” said Vakr. “He and Sigrid had a long talk +together, and I saw her put her arms round his neck; +she seemed well pleased to greet him.”</p> + +<p>“Olaf may be a brave man, but it is rash of him to +anger me thus, by trying to steal away my housekeeper,” +said Thorbiorn, scowling heavily. Olaf had no thanks +for his kindness, and was ill received whenever he +came; yet he came often to see Sigrid, for he loved +her, and tried to persuade her to wed him. Thorbiorn +hated him the more for his open wooing, which he +could not forbid.</p> + + +<h3>Thorbiorn Insults Olaf</h3> + +<p>The next year, when harvest was over, and the sheep +were brought home, again most of the missing sheep +belonged to Thorbiorn, and again Olaf went to the +mountains alone and brought back the stray ones. All +thanked him, except the master of Bathstead, to whom +Olaf drove back sixty wethers. Thorbiorn had grown +daily more enraged at Olaf’s popularity, his strength +and beauty, and his evident love for Sigrid, and now +chose this opportunity of insulting the bold youth who +rivalled him in fame and in public esteem.</p> + +<p>Olaf reached Bathstead at noon, and seeing that all +men were in the hall, he entered, and made his way to the +daïs where Thorbiorn sat; there he leaned on his axe, +gazed steadily at the master, who gave him no +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +single word of greeting. Then every one kept silence +watching them both.</p> + +<p>At last Olaf broke the stillness by asking: “Why are +you all dumb? There is no honour to those who say +naught. I have stood here long enough and had no +word of courteous greeting. Master Thorbiorn, I have +brought home thy missing sheep.”</p> + +<p>Vakr answered spitefully: “Yes, we all know that +thou hast become the Icefirth sheep-drover; and we +all know that thou hast come to claim some share of +the sheep, as any other beggar might. Kinsman Thorbiorn, +thou hadst better give him some little alms to +satisfy him!”</p> + +<p>Olaf flushed angrily as he answered: “Nay, it is not +for that I came; but, Thorbiorn, I will not seek thy +lost sheep a third time.” And as he turned and strode +indignantly from the hall Vakr mocked and jeered at +him. Yet Olaf passed forth in silence.</p> + +<p>The third year Olaf found and brought home all +men’s sheep but Thorbiorn’s; and then Vakr spread the +rumour that Olaf had stolen them, since he could not +otherwise obtain a share of them. This rumour came +at last to Howard’s ears, and he upbraided Olaf, saying, +when his son praised their mutton, “Yes, it is good, +and it is really ours, not Thorbiorn’s. It is terrible +that we have to bear such injustice.”</p> + +<p>Olaf said nothing, but, seizing the leg of mutton, flung +it across the room; and Howard smiled at the wrath +which his son could no longer suppress; perhaps, too, +Howard longed to see Olaf in conflict with Thorbiorn.</p> + + +<h3>Olaf and the Wizard’s Ghost</h3> + +<p>While Howard was still upbraiding Olaf a widow +entered, who had come to ask for help in a difficult +matter. Her dead husband (a reputed wizard) returned +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +to his house night after night as a dreadful ghost, and +no man would live in the house. Would Howard come +and break the spell and drive away the dreadful nightly +visitant?</p> + +<p>“Alas!” replied Howard, “I am no longer young +and strong. Why do you not ask Thorbiorn? He +accounts himself to be chief here, and a chieftain should +protect those in his country-side.”</p> + +<p>“Nay,” said the widow. “I am only too glad if +Thorbiorn lets me alone. I will not meddle with him.”</p> + +<p>Then said Olaf: “Father, I will go and try my +strength with this ghost, for I am young and stronger +than most, and I deem such a matter good sport.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly Olaf went back with the widow, and +slept in the hall that night, with a skin rug over him. +At nightfall the dead wizard came in, ghastly, evil-looking, +and terrible, and tore the skin from over Olaf; +but the youth sprang up and wrestled with the evil +creature, who seemed to have more than mortal strength. +They fought grimly till the lights died out, and the +struggle raged in the darkness up and down the hall, +and finally out of doors. In the yard round the house +the dead wizard fell, and Olaf knelt upon him and +broke his back, and thought him safe from doing any +mischief again. When Olaf returned to the hall men +had rekindled the lights, and all made much of him, and +tended his bruises and wounds, and counted him a hero +indeed. His fame spread through the whole district, +and he was greatly beloved by all men; but Thorbiorn +hated him more than ever.</p> + +<p>Soon another quarrel arose, when a stranded whale, +which came ashore on Howard’s land, was adjudged to +Thorbiorn. The lawman, Thorkel, was summoned to +decide to whom the whale belonged, and came to view +it. “It is manifestly theirs,” said he falteringly, for he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +dreaded Thorbiorn’s wrath. “Whose saidst thou?” +cried Thorbiorn, coming to him menacingly, with drawn +sword. “Thine,” said Thorkel, with downcast eyes; +and Thorbiorn triumphantly claimed and took the whale +though the injustice of the decree was evident. Yet +Olaf felt no ill-will to Thorbiorn, for Sigrid’s sake, but +contrived to render him another service.</p> + + +<h3>Olaf’s Second Fight with the Ghost</h3> + +<p>Brand the Strong, Thorbiorn’s shepherd, could not +drive his sheep one day. Olaf met him trying to get +his frightened wethers home: it seemed an impossible +task, because an uncanny human form, with waving +arms, stood in a narrow bend of the path and drove +them back and scattered them. Brand told Olaf all the +tale, and when the two went to look, Olaf saw that the +enemy was the ghost of the dead wizard whom he had +fought before. “Which wilt thou do,” said Olaf, +“fight the wizard or gather thy sheep?”</p> + +<p>“I have no wish to fight the ghost; I will find my +scattered sheep,” said Brand; “that is the easier task.”</p> + +<p>Then Olaf ran at the ghost, who awaited him at the +top of a high bank, and he and the wizard wrestled +again with each other till they fell from the bank into +a snowdrift, and so down to the sea-shore. There +Olaf, whose strength had been tried to the utmost, +had the upper hand, and again broke the back of the +dead wizard; but, seeing that that had been of no +avail before, he took the body, swam out to sea with it, +and sank it deep in the firth. Ever after men believed +that this part of the coast was dangerous to ships.</p> + +<p>Brand thanked the youth much for his help, and +when he reached Bathstead related what Olaf had done +for him. Thorbiorn said nothing, but Vakr sneered, +and called Brand a coward for asking help of Olaf. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +The strife grew keen between them, almost to blows, +and was only settled by Thorbiorn, who forbade Brand +to praise Olaf or to accept help from him. His ill-will +grew so evident to all men that Howard the Halt +decided, in spite of Olaf’s reluctance, to remove to a +homestead on the other side of the firth, away from +Thorbiorn’s neighbourhood.</p> + + +<h3>Olaf Meets Thorbiorn</h3> + +<p>That summer Thorbiorn decided to marry. He +wooed a maiden who was sister of the wise Guest, who +dwelt at the Mead, and Guest agreed to the match, +on condition that Thorbiorn should renounce his +injustice and evil ways; to this Thorbiorn assented, +and the wedding was held shortly after. Thorbiorn +had said nothing to his household of his proposed +marriage, and Sigrid first heard of it when the wedding +was over, and the bridal party would soon be riding +home to Bathstead. Sigrid was very wroth that she +must give up her control of the household to another, +and refused to stay to serve under Thorbiorn’s wife; +accordingly she withdrew from Bathstead to a kinsman’s +house, taking all her goods with her. Thorbiorn +raged furiously on his return, when he found that she +was gone, for her wealth made a great difference to +his comfort, and threatened dire punishment to all who +had helped her. Olaf continued his wooing of Sigrid, +and went to see her often in her kinsman’s abode, and +they loved each other greatly.</p> + +<p>One day when Olaf had been seeking some lost sheep +he made his way to Sigrid’s house, to talk with her as +usual. As they stood near the house together and +talked Sigrid looked suddenly anxious and said:</p> + +<p>“I see Thorbiorn and Vakr coming in a boat over +the firth with weapons beside them, and I see the gleam +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +of Thorbiorn’s great sword Warflame. I fear they have +done, or will do, some evil deed, and therefore I pray +thee, Olaf, not to stay and meet them. He has hated +thee for a long time, and the help thou didst give me +to leave Bathstead did not mend matters. Go thy way +now, and do not fall in with them.”</p> + +<p>“I am not afraid,” said Olaf. “I have done Thorbiorn +no wrong, and I will not flee before him. He is +only one man, as I am.”</p> + +<p>“Alas!” Sigrid replied, “how canst thou, a stripling +of eighteen, hope to stand before a grown man, a mighty +champion, armed with a magic sword? Thy words and +thoughts are brave, as thou thyself art, but the odds are +too great for thee: they are two to one, since Vakr, +ever spiteful and malicious, will not stand idle while +thou art in combat with Thorbiorn.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Olaf, “I will not avoid them, but I +will not seek a contest. If it must be so, I will fight +bravely; thou shalt hear of my deeds.”</p> + +<p>“No, that will never be; I will not live after thee +to ask of them,” said Sigrid.</p> + +<p>“Farewell now; live long and happily!” said Olaf; +and so they bade each other farewell, and Olaf left her +there, and went down to the shore where his sheep lay. +Thorbiorn and Vakr had just landed, and they greeted +each other, and Olaf asked them their errand. “We +go to my mother,” said Vakr.</p> + +<p>“Let us go together,” replied Olaf, “for my way is +the same in part. But I am sorry that I must needs +drive my sheep home, for Icefirth sheep-drovers will +become proud if a great man like thee should join the +trade, Thorbiorn.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, I do not mind that,” said Thorbiorn; so they +all went on together; and as he went Olaf caught up a +crooked cudgel with which to herd his sheep; he noticed, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +too, that Thorbiorn and Vakr kept trying to lag behind +him, and he took care that they all walked abreast.</p> + + +<h3>The Combat</h3> + +<p>When the three came near the house of Thordis, +Vakr’s mother, where the ways divided, Thorbiorn +said: “Now, nephew Vakr, we need no longer delay +what we would do.” And then Olaf knew that he had +fallen into their snare. He ran up a bank beside the +road, and the two set on him from below, and he +defended himself at first manfully with the crooked +cudgel; but Thorbiorn’s sword Warflame sliced this +like a stalk of flax, and Olaf had to betake himself to +his axe, and the fight went on for long.</p> + + +<h3>A New Enemy Comes</h3> + +<p>The noise of the fray reached the ears of Thordis, +Vakr’s mother, in her house, so that she sent a boy to +learn the cause, and when he told her that Olaf Howardson +was fighting against Thorbiorn and Vakr she bade +her second son go to the help of his kinsfolk.</p> + +<p>“I will not go,” said he. “I would rather fight for +Olaf than for them. It is a shame for two to set on +one man, and they such great champions too. I will +not be the third; I will not go.”</p> + +<p>“Now I know that thou art a coward,” sneered his +mother. “Daughter, not son, thou art, too timid to +help thy kinsfolk. I will show thee that I am a braver +daughter than thou a son!”</p> + + +<h3>Olaf’s Death</h3> + +<p>By these words Thordis so enraged her son that he +seized his axe and rushed from the house down the hill +towards Olaf, who could not see the new-comer, because +he stood with his back to the house. Coming close to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +Olaf, the new assailant drove the axe in deep between +his shoulders, and when Olaf felt the blow he turned +and with a mighty stroke slew his last enemy. Thereupon +Thorbiorn thrust Olaf through with the sword +Warflame, and he died. Then Thorbiorn took Olaf’s +teeth, which he smote from his jaw, wrapped them in a +cloth, and carried them home.</p> + +<p>The news of the slaughter was at once told by Thorbiorn +(for so long as homicide was not concealed it was +not considered murder), and told fairly, so that all men +praised Olaf for his brave defence, and lamented his +death. But when men sought for the fair Sigrid she +could not be found, and was seen no more from that +day. She had loved Olaf greatly, had seen him fall, and +could not live when he was dead; but no man knew +where she died or was buried.</p> + +<p>The terrible news of Olaf’s death came to Howard, +and he sighed heavily and took to his bed for grief, +and remained bedridden for twelve months, leaving his +wife Biargey to manage the daily fishing and the farm. +Men thought that Olaf would be for ever unavenged, +because Howard was too feeble, and his adversary too +mighty and too unjust.</p> + + +<h3>Howard Claims Wergild for Olaf</h3> + +<p>When a year had passed away Biargey came to +Howard where he lay in his bed, and bade him arise +and go to Bathstead. Said she:</p> + +<p>“I would have thee claim wergild for our son, since +a man that can no longer fight may well prove his valour +by word of mouth, and if Thorbiorn should show any +sign of justice thou shalt not claim too much.”</p> + +<p>Howard replied: “I know it is a bootless errand to +ask justice from Thorbiorn, but I will do thy will in this +matter.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +So Howard went heavily, walking as an old man, to +Bathstead, and, after the usual greetings, said:</p> + +<p>“I have come to thee, Thorbiorn, on a great matter—to +claim wergild for my dead son Olaf, whom thou +didst slay guiltless.”</p> + +<p>Thorbiorn answered: “I have never yet paid a +wergild, though I have slain many men—some say +innocent men. But I am sorry for thee, since thou hast +lost a brave son, and I will at least give thee something. +There is an old horse named Dodderer out in the +pastures, grey with age, sore-backed, too old to work; +but thou canst take him home, and perhaps he will be +some good, when thou hast fed him up.”</p> + +<p>Now Howard was angered beyond speech. He +reddened and turned straight to the door; and as he +went down the hall Vakr shouted and jeered; but +Howard said no word, good or bad. He returned +home, and took to his bed for another year.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr15.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_106" id="image_page_106"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Howard leaves the house of Thorbiorn</p> + + +<h3>Howard at the Thing</h3> + +<p>In the second year Biargey again urged Howard to +try for a wergild. She suggested that he should follow +Thorbiorn to the Thing and try to obtain justice, for +men loathed Thorbiorn’s evil ways, and Howard would +be sure to have many sympathizers. Howard was loath +to go. “Thorbiorn, my son’s slayer, has mocked me +once; shall he mock me again where all the chieftains +are assembled? I will not go to endure such shame!”</p> + +<p>To his surprise, Biargey urged her will, saying: +“Thou wilt have friends, I know, since Guest will be +there, and he is a just man, and will strive to bring +about peace between thee and Thorbiorn. And hearken +to me, and heed my words, husband! If Thorbiorn is +condemned to pay thee money, and there is a large +ring of assessors, it may be that when thou and he are +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +in the ring together he will do something to grieve +thee sorely. Then look thou well to it! If thy heart +be light, make thou no peace; I am somewhat foresighted, +and I know that then Olaf shall be avenged. +But if thou be heavy-hearted, then do thou be reconciled +to Thorbiorn, for I know that Olaf shall lie +unatoned for.”</p> + +<p>Howard replied: “Wife, I understand thee not, +nor thy words, but this I know: I would do and bear +all things if I might but obtain due vengeance for Olaf’s +death.”</p> + +<p>At last Howard, impressed by his wife’s half-prophetic +words, roused himself, and rode away to the +Thing; here he found shelter with a great chieftain, +Steinthor of Ere, who was kind to the old man, and +gave Howard a place in his booth. Steinthor praised +Olaf’s courage and manful defence, and bade his +followers cherish the old man, and not arouse his grief +for his dead son.</p> + + +<h3>Howard and Thorbiorn</h3> + +<p>As the days wore on Howard did nothing towards +obtaining compensation for his great loss, until Steinthor +asked him why he took no action in the matter. Howard +replied that he felt helpless against Thorbiorn’s evil +words and deeds; but Steinthor bade him try to win +Guest to his side—then he would succeed. Howard +took heart, and set off for the booth which Thorbiorn +shared with Guest; but unhappily Guest was not there +when Howard came. Thorbiorn greeted him and asked +what matter had brought him, and Howard replied:</p> + +<p>“My grief for Olaf is yet deep in my heart; still I +remember his death; and now again I come to claim a +wergild for him.”</p> + +<p>Thorbiorn answered: “Come to me at home in my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +own country, and I may do somewhat for thee, but I +will not have thee whining against me here.”</p> + +<p>Howard said: “If thou wilt do nothing here, I have +proved that thou wilt do still less in thine own country; +but I had hoped for help from other chieftains.”</p> + +<p>Thorbiorn burst out wrathfully: “See! He will +stir up other men against me! Get thee gone, old man, +or thou shalt not escape a beating.”</p> + +<p>Now Howard was greatly angered, and said: “Yes, old +I am—too old and feeble to win respect; but the days +have been when I would not have endured such wrong; +yea, and if Olaf were still alive thou wouldst not have +flouted me thus.” As he left Thorbiorn’s sight his +grief and anger were so great that he did not notice +Guest returning, but went heavily to Steinthor’s booth, +where he told all Thorbiorn’s injustice, and won much +sympathy.</p> + + +<h3>Guest and Howard</h3> + +<p>When Guest had entered the booth he sat down +beside Thorbiorn and said:</p> + +<p>“Who was the man whom I met leaving the booth +just now?”</p> + +<p>“A wise question for a wise man to ask! How can +I tell? So many come and go,” said Thorbiorn.</p> + +<p>“But this was an old man, large of stature, lame in +one knee; yet he looked a brave warrior, and he was so +wrathful that he did not know where he went. He +seemed a man likely to be lucky, too, and not one to be +lightly wronged.”</p> + +<p>“That must have been old Howard the Halt,” said +Thorbiorn. “He is a man from my district, who has +come after me to the Thing.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Was it his brave son Olaf whom thou didst +slay guiltless?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +“Yes, certainly,” returned Thorbiorn.</p> + +<p>“How hast thou kept the promise of better ways +which thou didst make when thou didst marry my +sister?” he asked; and Thorbiorn sat silent. “This +wrong must be amended,” said Guest, and sent an +honourable man to bring Howard to him. Howard +at first refused to face Thorbiorn again, but at last +reluctantly consented to meet Guest, and when the +latter had greeted him in friendly and honourable +fashion he told the whole story, from the time of +Thorbiorn’s first jealousy of Olaf.</p> + +<p>Guest was horrified. “Heard ever man such injustice!” +he cried. “Now, Thorbiorn, choose one +of two things: either my sister shall no longer be thy +wife, or thou shalt allow me to give judgment between +Howard and thee.”</p> + + +<h3>Guest’s Judgment and the Payment of the Wergild</h3> + +<p>Thorbiorn agreed to leave the matter in Guest’s +hands, and many men were called to make a ring as +assessors, that all might be legally done, and Thorbiorn +and Howard stood together in the ring. Then Guest +gave judgment: “Thorbiorn, I cannot condemn thee +to pay Howard all thou owest—with all thy wealth, +thou hast not money enough for that; but for slaying +Olaf thou shalt pay a threefold wergild. For the other +wrongs thou hast done him, I, thy brother-in-law, will +try to atone by gifts, and friendship, and all honour in +my power, as long as we both live; and if he will come +home to stay with me he shall be right welcome.”</p> + +<p>Thorbiorn agreed to the award, saying carelessly: +“I will pay him at home in my own country, if he +will come to me when I have more leisure.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Guest, who distrusted Thorbiorn, “thou +shalt pay here, and now, fully; and I myself will pay +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +one wergild, to help thee in atonement.” When this +was agreed Howard sat down in the ring, and Guest +gave him the one wergild (a hundred of silver), which +Howard received in the skirt of his cloak; and then +Thorbiorn paid one wergild slowly, coin by coin, and said +he had no more money; but Guest bade him pay it all.</p> + +<p>Then Thorbiorn drew out a cloth and untied it, +saying, “He will surely count himself paid in full if +I give him this!” and he flung into the old man’s face, +as he sat on the ground, the teeth of the dead Olaf, +saying, “Here are thy son’s teeth!”</p> + +<p>Howard sprang up, bleeding, mad with rage and +grief. The silver rolled in all directions from his cloak +as he came to his feet, but he heeded it not at all. +Blinded with blood, and furious, he broke through the +ring of assessors, dashed one of them to earth, and +rushed away like a young man; but when he came to +Steinthor’s booth he lay as if dead, and spoke to no +man.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr16.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_110" id="image_page_110"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“The silver rolled in all directions from his cloak”</p> + +<p>Guest would have no more to do with Thorbiorn. +“Thou hast no equal for cruelty and evil; thou +shalt surely repent it,” he said; and he rode to +Bathstead, took his sister away, with all her wealth, and +broke off his alliance with Thorbiorn, caring nothing +for the shame he put upon so unjust a man.</p> + +<p>Howard went home, told Biargey all that had +happened, and took to his bed again, a poor, old, +helpless, miserable man; but his wife, who saw her +presage beginning to come true, kept up her courage, +rowed out fishing every day, and guided the household +for yet another year.</p> + + +<h3>Biargey and her Brethren</h3> + +<p>That summer, one day, as Biargey was rowed out to +the fishing as usual, she saw Thorbiorn’s boat coming +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +up the firth, and bade her man take up the lines and +go to meet him, and row round the cutter, while she +talked with Thorbiorn. As Biargey’s little boat +approached the cutter Thorbiorn stopped his vessel +for he saw that she would speak with him, and her +boat circled round the cutter while she asked his +business, and learnt that he was going with Vakr to +meet a brother and nephew of his, to bring them to +Bathstead, and that he expected to be away from home +for a week. The little skiff had now passed completely +round the motionless cutter, and Olaf’s mother, having +learnt all she wanted, bade her rower quit Thorbiorn; +the little boat shot swiftly and suddenly away, leaving +Thorbiorn with an uneasy sense of witchcraft. So +disquieted did he feel that he would have pursued her +and drowned “the old hag,” as he called her, had he +not been prevented by Brand the Strong, who had +been helped in his need by Olaf.</p> + +<p>As the little craft shot away Biargey smiled mysteriously, +and said to her rower: “Now I feel sure that +Olaf my son will be avenged. I have work to do: let +us not go home yet.”</p> + +<p>“Where, then, shall we go?” asked the man.</p> + +<p>“To my brother Valbrand.”</p> + + +<h3>Valbrand</h3> + +<p>Now Valbrand was an old man who had been a +mighty warrior in his youth, but had now settled down +to a life of quiet and peace; he had, however, two +promising sons, well-grown and manly youths. When +Valbrand saw his sister he came to meet her, saying:</p> + +<p>“Welcome, sister! Seldom it is that we see thee. +Wilt thou abide with us this night, or is thine errand +one that craves haste?”</p> + +<p>“I must be home to-night,” she replied, and added +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +mysteriously: “But there is help I would fain ask of +thee. Wilt thou lend me thy seal-nets? We have not +enough to catch such fish as we need.”</p> + +<p>Valbrand answered: “Willingly, and thou shalt choose +for thyself. Here are three, one old and worn out, two +new and untried; which wilt thou take?”</p> + +<p>“I will have the new ones, but I do not need them +yet; keep them ready for the day when I shall send +and ask for them,” Biargey replied, and bade Valbrand +farewell, and rowed away to her next brother.</p> + + +<h3>Thorbrand and Asbrand</h3> + +<p>When Howard’s wife came to her brother Thorbrand +she was well received by him and his two sons, +and here she asked for the loan of a trout-net, since she +had not enough to catch the fish. Thorbrand offered +her her choice—one old and worn out, or two new +and untried nets; and again Biargey chose the new +ones, and bade them be ready when the messenger +came.</p> + +<p>From her third brother, Asbrand, who had only one +son, Biargey asked a turf-cutter, as hers was not keen +enough to cut all she wanted; again she was offered +her choice, and chose the new, untried cutter, instead of +the old, rusty, notched one. Then Biargey bade farewell +to Asbrand, refusing his offer of hospitality, and +went home to Howard, and told him of her quests and +the promises she had received. The old couple knew +what the promises meant, but they said nothing to each +other about it.</p> + + +<h3>The Arousing of Howard</h3> + +<p>When seven days had passed Biargey came to +Howard, saying: “Arise now, and play the man, if thou +wilt ever win vengeance for Olaf. Thou must do it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +now or never, since now the opportunity has come. +Knowest thou not that to-day Thorbiorn returns to +Bathstead, and thou must meet him to-day? And +have I not found helpers for thee in my nephews? +Thou wilt not need to face the strife alone.”</p> + +<p>Hereupon Howard sprang up joyfully from his bed, +and was no longer lame or halt, nor looked like an old +man, but moved briskly, clad himself in good armour, +and seemed a mighty warrior. His joy broke forth in +words, and he chanted songs of gladness in vengeance, +and joy in strife, and evil omen to the death-doomed +foe. Thus gladly, with spear in hand, he went forth to +find his enemy and avenge his son; but he turned and +kissed his brave wife farewell, for he said: “It may +well be that we shall not meet again.” Biargey said: +“Nay, we shall meet again, for I know that thou +bearest a bold heart and a strong arm, and wilt do +valiantly.”</p> + + +<h3>Howard Gathers his Friends</h3> + +<p>Howard and one fighting-man took their boat and +rowed to Valbrand’s house, and saw him and his sons +making hay. Valbrand greeted Howard well, for he +had not seen him for long, and begged him to stay +there, but Howard would not. “I am in haste, and +have come to fetch the two new seal-nets thou didst +lend to my wife,” he said; and Valbrand understood him +well. He called to his sons, “Come hither, lads; here +is your kinsman Howard, with mighty work on hand,” +and the two youths ran up hastily, leaving their hay-making. +Valbrand went to the house, and returned +bearing good weapons, which he gave to his sons, +bidding them follow their kinsman Howard and help +in his vengeance.</p> + +<p>They three went down to the boat, took their +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +seats beside Howard’s man, and rowed to Asbrand’s +house. There Howard asked for the promised new +turf-cutter, and Asbrand’s son, a tall and manly youth, +joined the party. At their next visit, to Thorbrand’s +house, Howard asked for the two trout-nets, and +Thorbrand’s two sons, with one stout fighting-man, +came gladly with their kinsman.</p> + + +<h3>Howard’s Plan</h3> + +<p>As they rowed away together one of the youths +asked: “Why is it that thou hast no sword or axe, Uncle +Howard?” Howard replied: “It may be that we shall +meet Thorbiorn, and when the meeting is over I shall +not be a swordless man, but it is likely that I shall have +Warflame, that mighty weapon, the best of swords; and +here I have a good spear.”</p> + +<p>These words seemed to them all a good omen, and as +they rowed towards Bathstead they saw a flock of ravens, +which encouraged them yet more, since the raven was the +bird of Odin, the haunter of fields of strife and bloodshed.</p> + +<p>When they reached Bathstead they sprang on the +jetty, carried their boat over the ridge of shingle to the +quiet pool by the boathouse, and hid themselves where +they could see, but remain themselves unseen. Howard +took command, and appointed their places, bidding them +be wary, and not stir till he gave the word.</p> + + +<h3>Thorbiorn’s Return</h3> + +<p>Late that evening, just before dusk, Thorbiorn and +Vakr came home, bringing their kinsmen with them, a +party of ten in all. They had no suspicion of any +ambush, and Thorbiorn said to Vakr: “It is a fine night, +and dry, Vakr; we will leave the boat here—she will +take no hurt through the night—and thou shalt carry +our swords and spears up to the boathouse.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +Vakr obeyed, and bore all the weapons to the boathouse. +Howard’s men would have slain him then but +Howard forbade, and let him return to the jetty for +more armour. When Vakr had gone back Howard +sent to the boathouse for the magic sword, Warflame; +drawing it, he gripped it hard and brandished it, for he +would fain avenge Olaf with the weapon which had +slain him. When Vakr came towards the ambush a +second time he was laden with shields and helmets. +Howard’s men sprang up to take him, and he turned to +flee as he saw and heard them. But his foot slipped, and +he fell into the pool, and lay there weighed down by all +the armour, till he died miserably—a fitting end for one +so ignoble and cruel.</p> + + +<h3>Thorbiorn’s Death</h3> + +<p>Howard’s men shouted and waved their weapons, +and ran down to the beach to attack their enemies; +but Thorbiorn, seeing them, flung himself into the +sea, swimming towards a small rocky islet. When +Howard saw this he took Warflame between his teeth, +and, old as he was, plunged into the waves and pursued +Thorbiorn. The latter had, however, a considerable +start, and was both younger and stronger than his +adversary, so that he was already on the rock and +prepared to dash a huge stone at Howard, when the old +man reached the islet. Now there seemed no hope for +Howard, but still he clung fiercely to the rock and +strove to draw himself up on the land. Thorbiorn +lifted the huge stone to cast at his foe, but his foot +slipped on the wet rocks, and he fell backward; before +he could recover his footing Howard rushed forward +and slew him with his own sword Warflame, striking +out his teeth, as Thorbiorn had done to Olaf.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr17.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_116" id="image_page_116"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Thorbiorn lifted the huge stone”</p> + +<p>When Howard swam back to Bathstead, and they +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +told him that in all six of Thorbiorn’s men were dead, +while he had only lost one serving-man, he rejoiced +greatly; but his vengeance was not satisfied until he +had slain yet another brother of Thorbiorn’s.</p> + + +<h3>Steinthor Shelters Howard</h3> + +<p>Then, with the news of this great revenge to be told, +Howard and his kinsmen took refuge with that Steinthor +who had given him help and shelter during the Thing.</p> + +<p>“Who are ye, and what tidings do ye bring?” asked +Steinthor as the little party of seven entered his hall.</p> + +<p>“I am Howard, and these are my kinsmen,” said +Howard. “We tell the slaying of Thorbiorn and his +brothers, his nephews and his house-carles, eight in all.”</p> + +<p>Steinthor exclaimed in surprise: “Art thou that +Howard, old and bedridden, who didst seem like to +die last year at the Thing, and hast thou done these +mighty deeds with only these youths to aid thee? +This is a great marvel, nearly as wondrous as thy +restoration to youth and health. Great enmity will ye +have aroused against you!”</p> + +<p>Said Howard: “Bethink thee that thou didst +promise me thy help if I should ever need it. Therefore +have I come to thee now, because I have some +little need of aid.”</p> + +<p>Steinthor laughed. “A little help! When dost thou +think thou wilt need much, if this be not the time? +But bide ye all here in honour, and I will set the matter +right, since thou and these thy helpers have done so +valiantly.”</p> + + +<h3>The Thing and Guest’s Award</h3> + +<p>Howard and his kinsmen abode long with their host, +until the Thing met again; then Steinthor rode away, +leaving the uncle and nephews under good safeguard. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +It was a great meeting, with many cases to judge. +When the matter of the death of Thorbiorn’s family +was brought up Steinthor spoke on Howard’s behalf, +and offered to let Guest again give judgment, since +he had done so before. This offer was accepted by +Thorbiorn’s surviving kinsfolk, and Guest, as before, +gave a fair award.</p> + +<p>Since a threefold wergild was still due to Howard +for the slaying of Olaf, three of the eight dead need +not be paid for. Thorbiorn, Vakr, and that brother +of his slain by Olaf should continue unatoned for, +because they were evildoers, and fell in an unrighteous +quarrel of their own seeking; moreover, the slaying +of Howard’s serving-man cancelled one wergild; there +remained, therefore, but one wergild for Howard to +pay—one hundred of silver—which was paid out of +hand. In addition to this, Howard must change his +dwelling, and his nephews must travel abroad for some +years. This sentence pleased all men greatly, and they +broke up the Thing in great content, and Howard rode +home at the head of a goodly company to his stout-hearted +wife Biargey, who had kept his house and lands +in good order all this time. They made a great feast, +and gave rich gifts to all their friends and kinsmen; +then when the farewells were over the exiles went +abroad and did valiantly in Norway; but Howard sold +his lands and moved to another part of the island. +There he prospered greatly; and when he died his +memory was handed down as that of a mighty warrior +and a valiant and prudent man.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER VII: ROLAND, THE HERO +OF EARLY FRANCE</h2> + + +<h3>The Roland Legends</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">C</span>HARLES THE GREAT, King of the Franks, +world-famous as Charlemagne, won his undying +renown by innumerable victories for +France and for the Church. Charles as the head of the +Holy Roman Empire and the Pope as the head of the +Holy Catholic Church equally dominated the imagination +of the mediæval world. Yet in romance Charlemagne’s +fame has been eclipsed by that of his illustrious +nephew and vassal, Roland, whose crowning glory has +sprung from his last conflict and heroic death in the +valley of Roncesvalles.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Oh for a blast of that dread horn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Fontarabian echoes borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That to King Charles did come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Roland brave, and Olivier,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every paladin and peer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Roncesvalles died.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Scott.</p> + +<p>Briefly, the historical facts are these: In <small>A.D.</small> 778 +Charles was returning from an expedition into Spain, +where the dissensions of the Moorish rulers had +offered him the chance of extending his borders while +he fought for the Christian faith against the infidel. +He had taken Pampeluna, but had been checked before +Saragossa, and had not ventured beyond the Ebro; +he was now making his way home through the +Pyrenees. When the main army had safely traversed +the passes, the rear was suddenly attacked by an +overwhelming body of mountaineers, Gascons and +Basques, who, resenting the violation of their mountain +sanctuaries, and longing for plunder, drove the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +Frankish rearguard into a little valley (now marked by +the chapel of Ibagneta and still called Roncesvalles), +and there slew every man.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 428px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr18.jpg" width="428" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_120" id="image_page_120"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Charlemagne<br /> +Stella Langdale</p> + + +<h3>The Historic Basis</h3> + +<p>The whole romantic legend of Roland has sprung +from the simple words in a contemporary chronicle, +“In which battle was slain Roland, prefect of the +marches of Brittany.”<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p> + +<p>This same fight of Roncesvalles was the theme of +an archaic poem, the “Song of Altobiscar,” written +about 1835. In it we hear the exultation of the Basques +as they see the knights of France fall beneath their +onslaughts. The Basques are on the heights—they +hear the trampling of a mighty host which throngs +the narrow valley below: its numbers are as countless +as the sands of the sea, its movement as resistless +as the waves which roll those sands on the shore. +Awe fills the bosoms of the mountain tribesmen, but +their leader is undaunted. “Let us unite our strong +arms!” he cries aloud. “Let us tear our rocks from +their beds and hurl them upon the enemy! Let us +crush and slay them all!” So said, so done: the +rocks roll plunging into the valley, slaying whole +troops in their descent. “And what mangled flesh, +what broken bones, what seas of blood! Soon of +that gallant band not one is left alive; night covers +all, the eagles devour the flesh, and the bones whiten +in this valley to all eternity!”</p> + + +<h3>A Spanish Version</h3> + +<p>So runs the “Song of Altobiscar.” But Spain too +claims part of the honour of the day of Roncesvalles. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +True, Roland was in reality slain by Basques, not by +Spaniards; but Spain, eager to share the honour, has +glorified a national hero, Bernardo del Carpio, who, in +the Spanish legend, defeats Roland in single combat +and wins the day.</p> + + +<h3>The Italian Orlando</h3> + +<p>Italy has laid claim to Roland, and in the guise of +Orlando, Orlando Furioso, Orlando Innamorato, has +made him into a fantastic, chivalrous knight, a hero of +many magical adventures.</p> + + +<h3>Roland in French Literature</h3> + +<p>Noblest of all, however, is the development of the +“Roland Saga” in French literature; for, even setting +aside much legendary lore and accumulated tradition, +the Roland of the old epic is a perfect hero of the +early days of feudalism, when chivalry was in its very +beginnings, before the cult of the Blessed Virgin Mary +added the grace of courtesy to its heroism. Evidently +Roland had grown in importance before the “Chanson +de Roland” took its present form, for we find the +rearguard skirmish magnified into a great battle, which +manifestly contains recollections of later Saracen invasions +and Gascon revolts. As befits the hero of an +epic, Roland is now of royal blood, the nephew of the +great emperor, who has himself increased in age and +splendour; this heroic Roland can obviously only be +overcome by the treachery of one of the Franks themselves, +so there appears the traitor Ganelon (a Romance +version of a certain Danilo or Nanilo), who is among +the Twelve Peers what Judas was among the Apostles; +the mighty Saracens, not the insignificant Basques, are +now the victors; and the vengeance taken by Charlemagne +on the Saracens and on the traitor is boldly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +added to history, which leaves the disaster unavenged. +Thus the bare fact was embroidered over gradually by +the historical imagination, aided by patriotism, until +a really national hero was evolved out of an obscure +Breton count.</p> + + +<h3>The “Chanson de Roland”</h3> + +<p>The “Song of Roland,” as we now have it, seems to +be a late version of an Anglo-Norman poem, made by +a certain Turoldus or Thorold; and it must bear a +close resemblance to that chant which fired the soldiers +of William the Norman at Hastings, when</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Taillefer, the noble singer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On his war-horse swift and fiery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rode before the Norman host;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tossed his sword in air and caught it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chanted loud the death of Roland,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the peers who perished with him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the pass of Roncevaux.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Roman de Rou.</p> + +<p>The “Song of Roland” bears an intimate relation to +the development of European thought, and the hero +is doubly worth our study as hero and as type of +national character. Thus runs the story:</p> + + +<h3>The Story</h3> + +<p>The Emperor Charles the Great, Carolus Magnus, +or Charlemagne, had been for seven years in Spain, +and had conquered it from sea to sea, except Saragossa, +which, among its lofty mountains, and ruled by its +brave king Marsile, had defied his power. Marsile +still held to his idols, Mahomet, Apollo, and Termagaunt, +dreading in his heart the day when Charles +would force him to become a Christian.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<h3>The Saracen Council</h3> + +<p>The Saracen king gathered a council around him, +as he reclined on a seat of blue marble in the shade of +an orchard, and asked the advice of his wise men.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘My lords,’ quoth he, ‘you know our grievous state.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mighty Charles, great lord of France the fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has spread his hosts in ruin o’er our land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No armies have I to resist his course,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No people have I to destroy his hosts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Advise me now, what counsel shall I take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save my race and realm from death and shame?’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>Blancandrin’s Advice</h3> + +<p>A wily emir, Blancandrin, of Val-Fonde, was the +only man who replied. He was wise in counsel, brave +in war, a loyal vassal to his lord.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Fear not, my liege,’ he answered the sad king.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Send thou to Charles the proud, the arrogant,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And offer fealty and service true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gifts of lions, bears, and swift-foot hounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seven hundred camels, falcons, mules, and gold—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As much as fifty chariots can convey—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, gold enough to pay his vassals all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say thou thyself will take the Christian faith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And follow him to Aix to be baptized.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he demands thy hostages, then I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And these my fellows give our sons to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To go with Charles to France, as pledge of truth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wilt not follow him, thou wilt not yield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be baptized, and so our sons must die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But better death than life in foul disgrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With loss of our bright Spain and happy days.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So cried the pagans all; but Marsile sat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoughtful, and yet at last accepted all.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>An Embassy to Charlemagne</h3> + +<p>Now King Marsile dismissed the council with words +of thanks, only retaining near him ten of his most +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +famous barons, chief of whom was Blancandrin; to +them he said: “My lords, go to Cordova, where Charles +is at this time. Bear olive-branches in your hands, in +token of peace, and reconcile me with him. Great shall +be your reward if you succeed. Beg Charles to have +pity on me, and I will follow him to Aix within a +month, will receive the Christian law, and become his +vassal in love and loyalty.”</p> + +<p>“Sire,” said Blancandrin, “you shall have a good +treaty!”</p> + +<p>The ten messengers departed, bearing olive-branches +in their hands, riding on white mules, with reins of +gold and saddles of silver, and came to Charles as he +rested after the siege of Cordova, which he had just +taken and sacked.</p> + + +<h3>Reception by Charlemagne</h3> + +<p>Charlemagne was in an orchard with his Twelve +Peers and fifteen thousand veteran warriors of France. +The messengers from the heathen king reached this +orchard and asked for the emperor; their gaze +wandered over groups of wise nobles playing at chess, +and groups of gay youths fencing, till at last it rested +on a throne of solid gold, set under a pine-tree and +overshadowed with eglantine. There sat Charles, the +king who ruled fair France, with white flowing beard +and hoary head, stately of form and majestic of countenance. +No need was there of usher to cry: “Here +sits Charles the King.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr19.jpg" width="409" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_124" id="image_page_124"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Here sits Charles the King”</p> + +<p>The ambassadors greeted Charlemagne with all +honour, and Blancandrin opened the embassy thus:</p> + +<p>“Peace be with you from God the Lord of Glory +whom you adore! Thus says the valiant King Marsile: +He has been instructed in your faith, the way of salvation, +and is willing to be baptized; but you have been +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +too long in our bright Spain, and should return to Aix. +There will he follow you and become your vassal, +holding the kingdom of Spain at your hand. Gifts +have we brought from him to lay at your feet, for he +will share his treasures with you!”</p> + + +<h3>He is Perplexed</h3> + +<p>Charlemagne raised his hands in thanks to God, but +then bent his head and remained thinking deeply, for +he was a man of prudent mind, cautious and far-seeing, +and never spoke on impulse. At last he said proudly: +“Ye have spoken fairly, but Marsile is my greatest +enemy: how can I trust your words?”</p> + +<p>Blancandrin replied: “He will give hostages, twenty +of our noblest youths, and my own son will be +among them. King Marsile will follow you to the +wondrous springs of Aix-la-Chapelle, and on the feast +of St. Michael will receive baptism in your court.”</p> + +<p>Thus the audience ended. The messengers were +feasted in a pavilion raised in the orchard, and the +night passed in gaiety and good-fellowship.</p> + + +<h3>He Consults his Twelve Peers</h3> + +<p>In the early morning Charlemagne arose and heard +Mass; then, sitting beneath a pine-tree, he called the +Twelve Peers to council. There came the twelve +heroes, chief of them Roland and his loyal brother-in-arms +Oliver; there came Archbishop Turpin; and, +among a thousand loyal Franks, there came Ganelon +the traitor. When all were seated in due order +Charlemagne began:</p> + +<p>“My lords and barons, I have received an embassy +of peace from King Marsile, who sends me great gifts +and offers, but on condition that I leave Spain and +return to Aix. Thither will he follow me, to receive +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +the Faith, become a Christian and my vassal. Is he +to be trusted?”</p> + +<p>“Let us beware,” cried all the Franks.</p> + + +<h3>Roland Speaks</h3> + +<p>Roland, ever impetuous, now rose without delay, and +spoke: “Fair uncle and sire, it would be madness to +trust Marsile. Seven years have we warred in Spain, +and many cities have I won for you, but Marsile has +ever been treacherous. Once before when he sent +messengers with olive-branches you and the French +foolishly believed him, and he beheaded the two counts +who were your ambassadors to him. Fight Marsile to +the end, besiege and sack Saragossa, and avenge those +who perished by his treachery.”</p> + + +<h3>Ganelon Objects</h3> + +<p>Charlemagne looked out gloomily from under his +heavy brows, he twisted his moustache and pulled his +long white beard, but said nothing, and all the Franks +remained silent, except Ganelon, whose hostility to +Roland showed clearly in his words:</p> + +<p>“Sire, blind credulity were wrong and foolish, but +follow up your own advantage. When Marsile offers +to become your vassal, to hold Spain at your hand and +to take your faith, any man who urges you to reject +such terms cares little for our death! Let pride no +longer be your counsellor, but hear the voice of +wisdom.”</p> + +<p>The aged Duke Naimes, the Nestor of the army, +spoke next, supporting Ganelon: “Sire, the advice of +Count Ganelon is wise, if wisely followed. Marsile +lies at your mercy; he has lost all, and only begs for +pity. It would be a sin to press this cruel war, since +he offers full guarantee by his hostages. You need +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +only send one of your barons to arrange the terms of +peace.”</p> + +<p>This advice pleased the whole assembly, and a +murmur was heard: “The Duke has spoken well.”</p> + + +<h3>“Who Shall Go to Saragossa?”</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘My lords and peers, whom shall we send<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Saragossa to Marsile?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Sire, let me go,’ replied Duke Naimes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Give me your glove and warlike staff.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘No!’ cried the king, ‘my counsellor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt not leave me unadvised—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit down again; I bid thee stay.’<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘My lords and peers, whom shall we send<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Saragossa to Marsile?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Sire, I can go,’ quoth Roland bold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘That canst thou not,’ said Oliver;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Thy heart is far too hot and fierce—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear for thee. But I will go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If that will please my lord the King.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘No!’ cried the king, ‘ye shall not go.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I swear by this white flowing beard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No peer shall undertake the task.’<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘My lords and peers, whom shall we send?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Archbishop Turpin rose and spoke:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Fair sire, let me be messenger.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your nobles all have played their part;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me your glove and warlike staff,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will show this heathen king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In frank speech how a true knight feels.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wrathfully the king replied:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘By this white beard, thou shalt not go!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit down, and raise thy voice no more.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>Roland Suggests Ganelon</h3> + +<p>“Knights of France,” quoth Charlemagne, “choose +me now one of your number to do my errand to +Marsile, and to defend my honour valiantly, if +need be.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +“Ah,” said Roland, “then it must be Ganelon, my +stepfather; for whether he goes or stays, you have +none better than he!”</p> + +<p>This suggestion satisfied all the assembly, and they +cried: “Ganelon will acquit himself right manfully. +If it please the King, he is the right man to go.”</p> + +<p>Charlemagne thought for a moment, and then, raising +his head, beckoned to Ganelon. “Come hither, +Ganelon,” he said, “and receive this glove and staff, +which the voice of all the Franks gives to thee.”</p> + + +<h3>Ganelon is Angry</h3> + +<p>“No,” replied Ganelon, wrathfully. “This is the +work of Roland, and I will never forgive him, nor his +friends, Oliver and the other Peers. Here, in your +presence, I bid them defiance!”</p> + +<p>“Your anger is too great,” said Charlemagne; “you +will go, since it is my will also.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I shall go, but I shall perish as did your two +former ambassadors. Sire, forget not that your sister +is my wife, and that Baldwin, my son, will be a valiant +champion if he lives. I leave to him my lands and +fiefs. Sire, guard him well, for I shall see him no +more.”</p> + +<p>“Your heart is too tender,” said Charlemagne. +“You must go, since such is my command.”</p> + + +<h3>He Threatens Roland</h3> + +<p>Ganelon, in rage and anguish, glared round the +council, and his face drew all eyes, so fiercely he looked +at Roland.</p> + +<p>“Madman,” said he, “all men know that I am thy +stepfather, and for this cause thou hast sent me to +Marsile, that I may perish! But if I return I will be +revenged on thee.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +“Madness and pride,” Roland retorted, “have no +terrors for me; but this embassy demands a prudent +man not an angry fool: if Charles consents, I will do +his errand for thee.”</p> + +<p>“Thou shalt not. Thou art not my vassal, to do my +work, and Charles, my lord, has given me his commands. +I go to Saragossa; but there will I find some +way to vent my anger.”</p> + +<p>Now Roland began to laugh, so wild did his stepfather’s +threats seem, and the laughter stung Ganelon +to madness. “I hate you,” he cried to Roland; “you +have brought this unjust choice on me.” Then, turning +to the emperor: “Mighty lord, behold me ready to +fulfil your commands.”</p> + + +<h3>But is Sent</h3> + +<p>“Fair Lord Ganelon,” spoke Charlemagne, “bear +this message to Marsile. He must become my vassal +and receive holy baptism. Half of Spain shall be his +fief; the other half is for Count Roland. If Marsile +does not accept these terms I will besiege Saragossa, +capture the town, and lead Marsile prisoner to Aix, +where he shall die in shame and torment. Take this +letter, sealed with my seal, and deliver it into the +king’s own right hand.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon Charlemagne held out his right-hand +glove to Ganelon, who would fain have refused it. So +reluctant was he to grasp it that the glove fell to the +ground. “Ah, God!” cried the Franks, “what an +evil omen! What woes will come to us from this +embassy!” “You shall hear full tidings,” quoth +Ganelon. “Now, sire, dismiss me, for I have no time +to lose.” Very solemnly Charlemagne raised his hand +and made the sign of the Cross over Ganelon, and gave +him his blessing, saying, “Go, for the honour of Jesus +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +Christ, and for your Emperor.” So Ganelon took his +leave, and returned to his lodging, where he prepared +for his journey, and bade farewell to the weeping +retainers whom he left behind, though they begged to +accompany him. “God forbid,” cried he, “that so +many brave knights should die! Rather will I die +alone. You, sirs, return to our fair France, greet +well my wife, guard my son Baldwin, and defend his +fief!”</p> + + +<h3>He Plots with Marsile’s Messengers</h3> + +<p>Then Ganelon rode away, and shortly overtook the +ambassadors of the Moorish king, for Blancandrin had +delayed their journey to accompany him, and the two +envoys began a crafty conversation, for both were wary +and skilful, and each was trying to read the other’s +mind. The wily Saracen began:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Ah! what a wondrous king is Charles!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How far and wide his conquests range!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The salt sea is no bar to him:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Poland to far England’s shores<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stretches his unquestioned sway;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But why seeks he to win bright Spain?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Such is his will,’ quoth Ganelon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘None can withstand his mighty power!’<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘How valiant are the Frankish lords<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But how their counsel wrongs their king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To urge him to this long-drawn strife—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They ruin both themselves and him!’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘I blame not them,’ quoth Ganelon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘But Roland, swollen with fatal pride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near Carcassonne he brought the King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An apple, crimson streaked with gold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Fair sire,” quoth he, “here at your feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I lay the crowns of all the kings.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he were dead we should have peace!’<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +<span class="i0">“‘How haughty must this Roland be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who fain would conquer all the earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such pride deserves due chastisement!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What warriors has he for the task?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘The Franks of France,’ quoth Ganelon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘The bravest warriors ’neath the sun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For love alone they follow him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Or lavish gifts which he bestows)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To death, or conquest of the world!’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 402px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr20.jpg" width="402" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_130" id="image_page_130"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Ganelon rode away”</p> + + +<h3>To Betray Roland</h3> + +<p>The bitterness in Ganelon’s tone at once struck: +Blancandrin, who cast a glance at him and saw the +Frankish envoy trembling with rage. He suddenly +addressed Ganelon in whispered tones: “Hast thou +aught against the nephew of Charles? Wouldst thou +have revenge on Roland? Deliver him to us, and +King Marsile will share with thee all his treasures.” +Ganelon was at first horrified, and refused to hear more, +but so well did Blancandrin argue and so skilfully did +he lay his snare that before they reached Saragossa and +came to the presence of King Marsile it was agreed +that Roland should be destroyed by their means.</p> + + +<h3>Ganelon with the Saracens</h3> + +<p>Blancandrin and his fellow ambassadors conducted +Ganelon into the presence of the Saracen king, and +announced Charlemagne’s peaceable reception of their +message and the coming of his envoy. “Let him +speak: we listen,” said Marsile.</p> + +<p>Ganelon then began artfully: “Peace be to you in the +name of the Lord of Glory whom we adore! This is +the message of King Charles: You shall receive the +Holy Christian Faith, and Charles will graciously grant +you one-half of Spain as a fief; the other half he intends +for his nephew Roland (and a haughty partner you will +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +find him!). If you refuse he will take Saragossa, lead +you captive to Aix, and give you there to a shameful +death.”</p> + + +<h3>Marsile’s Anger</h3> + +<p>Marsile’s anger was so great at this insulting message +that he sprang to his feet, and would have slain Ganelon +with his gold-adorned javelin; but he, seeing this, half +drew his sword, saying:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Sword, how fair and bright thou art!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come thou forth and view the light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long as I can wield thee here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charles my Emperor shall not say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I die alone, unwept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere I fall Spain’s noblest blood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall be shed to pay my death.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>The Saracen Council</h3> + +<p>However, strife was averted, and Ganelon received +praise from all for his bold bearing and valiant defiance +of his king’s enemy. When quiet was restored he +repeated his message and delivered the emperor’s +letter, which was found to contain a demand that the +caliph, Marsile’s uncle, should be sent, a prisoner, to +Charles, in atonement for the two ambassadors foully +slain before. The indignation of the Saracen nobles +was intense, and Ganelon was in imminent danger, but, +setting his back against a pine-tree, he prepared to defend +himself to the last. Again the quarrel was stayed, and +Marsile, taking his most trusted leaders, withdrew to a +secret council, whither, soon, Blancandrin led Ganelon. +Here Marsile excused his former rage, and, in reparation, +offered Ganelon a superb robe of marten’s fur, which +was accepted; and then began the tempting of the +traitor. First demanding a pledge of secrecy, Marsile +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +pitied Charlemagne, so aged and so weary with rule. +Ganelon praised his emperor’s prowess and vast power. +Marsile repeated his words of pity, and Ganelon replied +that as long as Roland and the Twelve Peers lived +Charlemagne needed no man’s pity and feared no +man’s power; his Franks, also, were the best living +warriors. Marsile declared proudly that he could bring +four hundred thousand men against Charlemagne’s +twenty thousand French; but Ganelon dissuaded him +from any such expedition.</p> + + +<h3>Ganelon Plans Treachery</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Not thus will you overcome him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave this folly, turn to wisdom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give the Emperor so much treasure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the Franks will be astounded.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send him, too, the promised pledges,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sons of all your noblest vassals.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fair France will Charles march homeward,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving (as I will contrive it)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haughty Roland in the rearguard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oliver, the bold and courteous,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will be with him: slay those heroes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And King Charles will fall for ever!’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Fair Sir Ganelon,’ quoth Marsile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘How must I entrap Count Roland?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘When King Charles is in the mountains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He will leave behind his rearguard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under Oliver and Roland.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send against them half your army:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roland and the Peers will conquer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But be wearied with the struggle—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then bring on your untired warriors.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">France will lose this second battle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when Roland dies, the Emperor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has no right hand for his conflicts—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell all the Frankish greatness!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne’er again can Charles assemble<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such a mighty host for conquest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you will have peace henceforward!’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Welcomed by Marsile</h3> + +<p>Marsile was overjoyed at the treacherous advice and +embraced and richly rewarded the felon knight. The +death of Roland and the Peers was solemnly sworn +between them, by Marsile on the book of the Law of +Mahomet, by Ganelon on the sacred relics in the +pommel of his sword. Then, repeating the compact +between them, and warning Ganelon against treason to +his friends, Marsile dismissed the treacherous envoy +who hastened to return and put his scheme into +execution.</p> + + +<h3>Ganelon Returns to Charles</h3> + +<p>In the meantime Charles had retired as far as +Valtierra, on his way to France, and there Ganelon +found him, and delivered the tribute, the keys of +Saragossa, and a false message excusing the absence of +the caliph. He had, so Marsile said, put to sea with +three hundred thousand warriors who would not renounce +their faith, and all had been drowned in a +tempest, not four leagues from land. Marsile would +obey King Charles’s commands in all other respects. +“Thank God!” cried Charlemagne. “Ganelon, you +have done well, and shall be well rewarded!”</p> + + +<h3>The French Camp. Charles Dreams</h3> + +<p>Now the whole Frankish army marched towards the +Pyrenees, and, as evening fell, found themselves among +the mountains, where Roland planted his banner on the +topmost summit, clear against the sky, and the army +encamped for the night; but the whole Saracen host +had also marched and encamped in a wood not far from +the Franks. Meanwhile, as Charlemagne slept he had +dreams of evil omen. Ganelon, in his dreams, seized +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +the imperial spear of tough ash-wood, and broke it, so +that the splinters flew far and wide. In another dream +he saw himself at Aix attacked by a leopard and a bear, +which tore off his right arm; a greyhound came to his +aid but he knew not the end of the fray, and slept +unhappily.</p> + + +<h3>A Morning Council</h3> + +<p>When morning light shone, and the army was ready +to march, the clarions of the host sounded gaily, and +Charlemagne called his barons around him.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘My lords and Peers, ye see these strait defiles:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Choose ye to whom the rearguard shall be given.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘My stepson Roland,’ straight quoth Ganelon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘’Mid all the Peers there is no braver knight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In him will lie the safety of your host.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charles heard in wrath, and spoke in angry tones:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘What fiendish rage has prompted this advice?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who then will go before me in the van?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The traitor tarried not, but answered swift:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Ogier the Dane will do that duty best.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When Roland heard that he was to command the +rearguard he knew not whether to be pleased or not. +At first he thanked Ganelon for naming him. “Thanks, +fair stepfather, for sending me to the post of danger. +King Charles shall lose no man nor horse through my +neglect.” But when Ganelon replied sneeringly, “You +speak the truth, as I know right well,” Roland’s gratitude +turned to bitter anger, and he reproached the +villain. “Ah, wretch! disloyal traitor! thou thinkest +perchance that I, like thee, shall basely drop the glove, +but thou shalt see! Sir King, give me your bow. I +will not let my badge of office fall, as thou didst, +Ganelon, at Cordova. No evil omen shall assail the +host through me.”</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Roland for the Rearguard</h3> + +<p>Charlemagne was very loath to grant his request, but +on the advice of Duke Naimes, most prudent of counsellors, +he gave to Roland his bow, and offered to leave +with him half the army. To this the champion would +not agree, but would only have twenty thousand Franks +from fair France. Roland clad himself in his shining +armour, laced on his lordly helmet, girt himself with +his famous sword Durendala, and hung round his neck +his flower-painted shield; he mounted his good steed +Veillantif, and took in hand his bright lance with the +white pennon and golden fringe; then, looking like +the Archangel St. Michael, he rode forward, and easy +it was to see how all the Franks loved him and would +follow where he led. Beside him rode the famous +Peers of France, Oliver the bold and courteous, the +saintly Archbishop Turpin, and Count Gautier, Roland’s +loyal vassal. They chose carefully the twenty thousand +French for the rearguard, and Roland sent Gautier +with one thousand of their number to search the +mountains. Alas! they never returned, for King +Almaris, a Saracen chief, met and slew them all +among the hills; and only Gautier, sorely wounded +and bleeding to death, returned to Roland in the final +struggle.</p> + +<p>Charlemagne spoke a mournful “Farewell” to his +nephew and the rearguard, and the mighty army began +to traverse the gloomy ravine through the dark masses +of rocks, and to emerge on the other side of the +Pyrenees. All wept, most for joy to set eyes on that +dear land of fair France, which for seven years they +had not seen; but Charles, with a sad foreboding of +disaster, hid his eyes beneath his cloak and wept in +silence.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Charles is Sad</h3> + +<p>“What grief weighs on your mind, sire?” asked the +wise Duke Naimes, riding up beside Charlemagne.</p> + +<p>“I mourn for my nephew. Last night in a vision I +saw Ganelon break my trusty lance—this Ganelon who +has sent Roland to the rear. And now I have left +Roland in a foreign land, and, O God! if I lose him +I shall never find his equal!” And the emperor rode +on in silence, seeing naught but his own sad foreboding +visions.</p> + + +<h3>The Saracen Pursuit</h3> + +<p>Meanwhile King Marsile, with his countless Saracens, +had pursued so quickly that the van of the heathen +army soon saw waving the banners of the Frankish +rear. Then as they halted before the strife began, one +by one the nobles of Saragossa, the champions of the +Moors, advanced and claimed the right to measure +themselves against the Twelve Peers of France. Marsile’s +nephew received the royal glove as chief champion, +and eleven Saracen chiefs took a vow to slay Roland +and spread the faith of Mahomet.</p> + +<p>“Death to the rearguard! Roland shall die! +Death to the Peers! Woe to France and Charlemagne! +We will bring the Emperor to your feet! You shall +sleep at St. Denis! Down with fair France!” Such +were their confident cries as they armed for the conflict; +and on their side no less eager were the Franks.</p> + +<p>“Fair Sir Comrade,” said Oliver to Roland, “methinks +we shall have a fray with the heathen.”</p> + +<p>“God grant it,” returned Roland. “Our duty is to +hold this pass for our king. A vassal must endure for +his lord grief and pain, heat and cold, torment and +death; and a knight’s duty is to strike mighty blows, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +that men may sing of him, in time to come, no evil +songs. Never shall such be sung of me.”</p> + + +<h3>Oliver Descries the Saracens</h3> + +<p>Hearing a great tumult, Oliver ascended a hill and +looked towards Spain, where he perceived the great +pagan army, like a gleaming sea, with shining hauberks +and helms flashing in the sun. “Alas! we are betrayed! +This treason is plotted by Ganelon, who put us in +the rear,” he cried. “Say no more,” said Roland; +“blame him not in this: he is my stepfather.”</p> + +<p>Now Oliver alone had seen the might of the pagan +array, and he was appalled by the countless multitudes +of the heathens. He descended from the hill and +appealed to Roland.</p> + + +<h3>Roland will not Blow his Horn</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Comrade Roland, sound your war-horn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your great Olifant, far-sounding:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charles will hear it and return here.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Cowardice were that,’ quoth Roland;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘In fair France my fame were tarnished.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, these Pagans all shall perish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I brandish Durendala.’<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Comrade Roland, sound your war-horn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charles will hear it and return here.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘God forbid it,’ Roland answered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘That it e’er be sung by minstrels<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was asking help in battle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From my King against these Pagans.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will ne’er do such dishonour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my kinsmen and my nation.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, these heathen all shall perish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I brandish Durendala.’<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Comrade Roland, sound your war-horn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charles will hear it and return here.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See how countless are the heathen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how small our Frankish troop is!’<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +<span class="i0">‘God forbid it,’ answered Roland,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘That our fair France be dishonoured<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or by me or by my comrades—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death we choose, but not dishonour!’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Roland was a valiant hero, but Oliver had prudence +as well as valour, and his advice was that of a good and +careful general. Now he spoke reproachfully.</p> + + +<h3>It is Too Late</h3> + +<p>“Ah, Roland, if you had sounded your magic horn +the king would soon be here, and we should not +perish! Now look to the heights and to the mountain +passes: see those who surround us. None of us will +see the light of another day!”</p> + +<p>“Speak not so foolishly,” retorted Roland. “Accursed +be all cowards, say I.” Then, softening his tone a little, +he continued: “Friend and comrade, say no more. +The emperor has entrusted to us twenty thousand +Frenchmen, and not a coward among them. Lay on +with thy lance, Oliver, and I will strike with Durendala. +If I die men shall say: ‘This was the sword of a +noble vassal.’”</p> + + +<h3>Turpin Blesses the Knights</h3> + +<p>Then spoke the brave and saintly Archbishop Turpin. +Spurring his horse, he rode, a gallant figure, to the +summit of a hill, whence he called aloud to the Frankish +knights:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Fair sirs and barons, Charles has left us here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To serve him, or at need to die for him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, yonder come the foes of Christendom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we must fight for God and Holy Faith.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, say your shrift, and make your peace with Heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will absolve you and will heal your souls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if you die as martyrs, your true home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is ready midst the flowers of Paradise!’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +The Frankish knights, dismounting, knelt before +Turpin, who blessed and absolved them all, bidding +them, as penance, to strike hard against the heathen.</p> + +<p>Then Roland called his brother-in-arms, the brave +and courteous Oliver, and said: “Fair brother, I know +now that Ganelon has betrayed us for reward and +Marsile has bought us; but the payment shall be +made with our swords, and Charlemagne will terribly +avenge us.”</p> + + +<h3>“Montjoie! Montjoie!”</h3> + +<p>While the two armies yet stood face to face in battle +array Oliver replied: “What good is it to speak? +You would not sound your horn, and Charles cannot +help us; he is not to blame. Barons and lords, ride on +and yield not. In God’s name fight and slay, and +remember the war-cry of our Emperor.” And at the +words the war-cry of “Montjoie! Montjoie!” burst +from the whole army as they spurred against the +advancing heathen host.</p> + + +<h3>The Fray</h3> + +<p>Great was the fray that day, deadly was the combat, +as the Moors and Franks crashed together, shouting +their cries, invoking their gods or saints, wielding with +utmost courage sword, lance, javelin, scimitar, or dagger. +Blades flashed, lances were splintered, helms were cloven +in that terrible fight of heroes. Each of the Twelve +Peers did mighty feats of arms. Roland himself slew +the nephew of King Marsile, who had promised to +bring Roland’s head to his uncle’s feet, and bitter were +the words that Roland hurled at the lifeless body of +his foe, who had but just before boasted that Charlemagne +should lose his right hand. Oliver slew the +heathen king’s brother, and one by one the Twelve +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +Peers proved their mettle on the twelve champions of +King Marsile, and left them dead or mortally wounded +on the field. Wherever the battle was fiercest and the +danger greatest, where help was most needed, there +Roland spurred to the rescue, swinging Durendala, +and, falling on the heathen like a thunderbolt of war, +turned the tide of battle again and yet again.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Red was Roland, red with bloodshed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red his corselet, red his shoulders,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red his arm, and red his charger.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Like the red god Mars he rode through the battle; +and as he went he met Oliver, with the truncheon or +a spear in his grasp.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Friend, what hast thou there?’ cried Roland.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘In this game ’tis not a distaff,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a blade of steel thou needest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is now Hauteclaire, thy good sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golden-hilted, crystal-pommeled?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Here,’ said Oliver; ‘so fight I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I have not time to draw it.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Friend,’ quoth Roland, ‘more I love thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever henceforth than a brother.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>The Saracens Perish</h3> + +<p>Thus the battle continued, most valiantly contested +by both sides, and the Saracens died by hundreds and +thousands, till all their host lay dead but one man, who +fled wounded, leaving the Frenchmen masters of the +field, but in sorry plight—broken were their swords and +lances, rent their hauberks, torn and blood-stained their +gay banners and pennons, and many, many of their +brave comrades lay lifeless. Sadly they looked round on +the heaps of corpses, and their minds were filled with +grief as they thought of their companions, of fair France +which they should see no more, and of their emperor +who even now awaited them while they fought and died +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +for him. Yet they were not discouraged; loudly their +cry re-echoed, “Montjoie! Montjoie!” as Roland +cheered them on, and Turpin called aloud: “Our men +are heroes; no king under heaven has better. It is +written in the Chronicles of France that in that great +land it is our king’s right to have valiant soldiers.”</p> + + +<h3>A Second Saracen Army</h3> + +<p>While they sought in tears the bodies of their friends, +the main army of the Saracens, under King Marsile in +person, came upon them; for the one fugitive who had +escaped had urged Marsile to attack again at once, while +the Franks were still weary. The advice seemed good +to Marsile, and he advanced at the head of a hundred +thousand men, whom he now hurled against the French +in columns of fifty thousand at a time; and they came +on right valiantly, with clarions sounding and trumpets +blowing.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Soldiers of the Lord,’ cried Turpin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Be ye valiant and steadfast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this day shall crowns be given you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Midst the flowers of Paradise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the name of God our Saviour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be ye not dismayed nor frighted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest of you be shameful legends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chanted by the tongue of minstrels.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather let us die victorious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since this eve shall see us lifeless!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven has no room for cowards!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knights, who nobly fight, and vainly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye shall sit amid the holy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the blessed fields of Heaven.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On then, Friends of God, to glory!’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>And the battle raged anew, with all the odds against the +small handful of French, who knew they were doomed, +and fought as though they were “fey.”<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Gloomy Portents</h3> + +<p>Meanwhile the whole course of nature was disturbed. +In France there were tempests of wind and thunder, +rain and hail; thunderbolts fell everywhere, and the +earth shook exceedingly. From Mont St. Michel to +Cologne, from Besançon to Wissant, not one town +could show its walls uninjured, not one village its houses +unshaken. A terrible darkness spread over all the +land, only broken when the heavens split asunder with +the lightning-flash. Men whispered in terror: “Behold +the end of the world! Behold the great Day of Doom!” +Alas! they knew not the truth: it was the great mourning +for the death of Roland.</p> + + +<h3>Many French Knights Fall</h3> + +<p>In this second battle the French champions were +weary, and before long they began to fall before the +valour of the newly arrived Saracen nobles. First died +Engelier the Gascon, mortally wounded by the lance +of that Saracen who swore brotherhood to Ganelon; +next Samson, and the noble Duke Anseis. These three +were well avenged by Roland and Oliver and Turpin. +Then in quick succession died Gerin and Gerier and +other valiant Peers at the hands of Grandoigne, until +his death-dealing career was cut short by Durendala. +Another desperate single combat was won by Turpin, +who slew a heathen emir “as black as molten pitch.”</p> + + +<h3>The Second Army Defeated</h3> + +<p>Finally this second host of the heathens gave way +and fled, begging Marsile to come and succour them; +but now of the victorious French there were but sixty +valiant champions left alive, including Roland, Oliver, +and the fiery prelate Turpin.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<h3>A Third Appears</h3> + +<p>Now the third host of the pagans began to roll forward +upon the dauntless little band, and in the short +breathing-space before the Saracens again attacked them +Roland cried aloud to Oliver:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Fair Knight and Comrade, see these heroes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Valiant warriors, lying lifeless!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must mourn for our fair country<br /></span> +<span class="i0">France, left widowed of her barons.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charles my King, why art thou absent?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brother mine, how shall we send him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mournful tidings of our struggle?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘How I know not,’ said his comrade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Better death than vile dishonour.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>Roland Willing to Blow his Horn</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Comrade, I will blow my war-horn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charles will hear it in the passes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And return with all his army.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oliver quoth: ‘’Twere disgraceful<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To your kinsmen all their life-days.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I urged it, then you would not;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, to sound your horn is shameful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I never will approve it.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>Oliver Objects. They Quarrel</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘See, the battle goes against us:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comrade, I shall sound my war-horn.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oliver replied: ‘O coward!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I urged it, then you would not.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If fair France again shall greet me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You shall never wed my sister;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By this beard of mine I swear it!’<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Why so bitter and so wrathful?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oliver returned: ‘’Tis thy fault;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Valour is not kin to madness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Temperance knows naught of fury.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +<span class="i0">You have killed these noble champions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have slain the Emperor’s vassals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have robbed us of our conquests.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, your valour, Count, is fatal!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charles must lose his doughty heroes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And your league with me must finish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With this day in bitter sorrow.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>Turpin Mediates</h3> + +<p>Archbishop Turpin heard the dispute, and strove to +calm the angry heroes. “Brave knights, be not so +enraged. The horn will not save the lives of these +gallant dead, but it will be better to sound it, that +Charles, our lord and emperor, may return, may +avenge our death and weep over our corpses, may bear +them to fair France, and bury them in the sanctuary, +where the wild beasts shall not devour them.” “That +is well said,” quoth Roland and Oliver.</p> + + +<h3>The Horn is Blown</h3> + +<p>Then at last Roland put the carved ivory horn, the +magic Olifant, to his lips, and blew so loudly that the +sound echoed thirty leagues away. “Hark! our men +are in combat!” cried Charlemagne; but Ganelon +retorted: “Had any but the king said it, that had +been a lie.”</p> + +<p>A second time Roland blew his horn, so violently +and with such anguish that the veins of his temples +burst, and the blood flowed from his brow and from +his mouth. Charlemagne, pausing, heard it again, and +said: “That is Roland’s horn; he would not sound +it were there no battle.” But Ganelon said mockingly: +“There is no battle, for Roland is too proud to sound +his horn in danger. Besides, who would dare to attack +Roland, the strong, the valiant, great and wonderful +Roland? No man. He is doubtless hunting, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +laughing with the Peers. Your words, my liege, do but +show how old and weak and doting you are. Ride on, +sire; the open country lies far before you.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr21.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_144" id="image_page_144"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Charlemagne heard it again”</p> + +<p>When Roland blew the horn for the third time +he had hardly breath to awaken the echoes; but still +Charlemagne heard. “How faintly comes the sound! +There is death in that feeble blast!” said the emperor; +and Duke Naimes interrupted eagerly: “Sire, Roland +is in peril; some one has betrayed him—doubtless he +who now tries to beguile you! Sire, rouse your host, +arm for battle, and ride to save your nephew.”</p> + + +<h3>Ganelon Arrested</h3> + +<p>Then Charlemagne called aloud: “Hither, my men. +Take this traitor Ganelon and keep him safe till my +return.” And the kitchen folk seized the felon knight, +chained him by the neck, and beat him; then, binding +him hand and foot, they flung him on a sorry nag, to +be borne with them till Charles should demand him at +their hands again.</p> + + +<h3>Charles Returns</h3> + +<p>With all speed the whole army retraced their steps, +turning their faces to Spain, and saying: “Ah, if we +could find Roland alive what blows we would strike +for him!” Alas! it was too late! Too late!</p> + +<p>How lofty are the peaks, how vast and shadowy the +mountains! How dim and gloomy the passes, how +deep the valleys! How swift the rushing torrents! +Yet with headlong speed the Frankish army hastens +back, with trumpets sounding in token of approaching +help, all praying God to preserve Roland till they come. +Alas! they cannot reach him in time! Too late. +Too late!</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Roland Weeps for his Comrades</h3> + +<p>Now Roland cast his gaze around on hill and +valley, and saw his noble vassals and comrades lie +dead. As a noble knight he wept for them, saying:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Fair Knights, may God have mercy on your souls!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May He receive you into Paradise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grant you rest on banks of heavenly flowers!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne’er have I known such mighty men as you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair France, that art the best of all dear lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How art thou widowed of thy noble sons!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through me alone, dear comrades, have you died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet through me no help nor safety comes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God have you in His keeping! Brother, come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us attack the heathen and win death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or grief will slay me! Death is duty now.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>He Fights Desperately</h3> + +<p>So saying, he rushed into the battle, slew the only son +of King Marsile, and drove the heathen before him as +the hounds drive the deer. Turpin saw and applauded. +“So should a good knight do, wearing good armour +and riding a good steed. He must deal good strong +strokes in battle, or he is not worth a groat. Let a +coward be a monk in some cloister and pray for the +sins of us fighters.”</p> + +<p>Marsile in wrath attacked the slayer of his son, but +in vain; Roland struck off his right hand, and Marsile +fled back mortally wounded to Saragossa, while his +main host, seized with panic, left the field to Roland. +However, the caliph, Marsile’s uncle, rallied the ranks, +and, with fifty thousand Saracens, once more came +against the little troop of Champions of the Cross, +the three poor survivors of the rearguard.</p> + +<p>Roland cried aloud: “Now shall we be martyrs for +our faith. Fight boldly, lords, for life or death! Sell +yourselves dearly! Let not fair France be dishonoured +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +in her sons. When the Emperor sees us dead with +our slain foes around us he will bless our valour.”</p> + + +<h3>Oliver Falls</h3> + +<p>The pagans were emboldened by the sight of the +three alone, and the caliph, rushing at Oliver, pierced +him from behind with his lance. But though mortally +wounded Oliver retained strength enough to slay the +caliph, and to cry aloud: “Roland! Roland! Aid me!” +then he rushed on the heathen army, doing heroic deeds +and shouting “Montjoie! Montjoie!” while the +blood ran from his wound and stained the earth blood-red. +At this woeful sight Roland swooned with grief, +and Oliver, faint from loss of blood, and with eyes +dimmed by fast-coming death, distinguished not the +face of his dear friend; he saw only a vague figure +drawing near, and, mistaking it for an enemy, raised his +sword Hauteclaire and gave Roland one last terrible +blow, which clove the helmet, but harmed not the head. +The blow roused Roland from his swoon, and, gazing +tenderly at Oliver, he gently asked him:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Comrade and brother, was that blow designed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To slay your Roland, him who loves you so?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no vengeance you would wreak on me.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Roland, I hear you speak, but see you not.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God guard and keep you, friend; but pardon me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blow I struck, unwitting, on your head.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘I have no hurt,’ said Roland; ‘I forgive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here and before the judgment-throne of God.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>And Dies</h3> + +<p>Now Oliver felt the pains of death come upon him. +Both sight and hearing were gone, his colour fled, and, +dismounting, he lay upon the earth; there, humbly +confessing his sins, he begged God to grant him rest +in Paradise, to bless his lord Charlemagne and the fair +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +land of France, and to keep above all men his comrade +Roland, his best-loved brother-in-arms. This ended, +he fell back, his heart failed, his head drooped low, and +Oliver the brave and courteous knight lay dead on the +blood-stained earth, with his face turned to the east. +Roland lamented him in gentle words: “Comrade, alas +for thy valour! Many days and years have we been +comrades: no ill didst thou to me, nor I to thee: now +thou art dead, ’tis pity that I live!”</p> + + +<h3>Turpin is Mortally Wounded. The Horn Again</h3> + +<p>Turpin and Roland now stood together for a time +and were joined by the brave Count Gautier, whose +thousand men had been slain, and he himself grievously +wounded; he now came, like a loyal vassal, to die with +his lord Roland, and was slain in the first discharge of +arrows which the Saracens shot. Taught by experience, +the pagans kept their distance, and wounded Turpin +with four lances, while they stood some yards away +from the heroes. But when Turpin felt himself +mortally wounded he plunged into the throng of the +heathen, killing four hundred before he fell, and Roland +fought on with broken armour, and with ever-bleeding +head, till in a pause of the deadly strife he took his +horn and again sent forth a feeble dying blast.</p> + + +<h3>Charles Answers the Horn</h3> + +<p>Charlemagne heard it, and was filled with anguish. +“Lords, all goes ill: I know by the sound of Roland’s +horn he has not long to live! Ride on faster, and let +all our trumpets sound, in token of our approach.” +Then sixty thousand trumpets sounded, so that +mountains echoed it and valleys replied, and the +heathen heard it and trembled. “It is Charlemagne! +Charles is coming!” they cried. “If Roland lives till +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +he comes the war will begin again, and our bright +Spain is lost.” Thereupon four hundred banded +together to slay Roland; but he rushed upon them, +mounted on his good steed Veillantif, and the valiant +pagans fled. But while Roland dismounted to tend the +dying archbishop they returned and cast darts from afar, +slaying Veillantif, the faithful war-horse, and piercing +the hero’s armour. Still nearer and nearer sounded the +clarions of Charlemagne’s army in the defiles, and the +Saracen host fled for ever, leaving Roland alone, on +foot, expiring, amid the dying and the dead.</p> + + +<h3>Turpin Blesses the Dead</h3> + +<p>Roland made his way to Turpin, unlaced his golden +helmet, took off his hauberk, tore his own tunic to bind +up his grievous wounds, and then gently raising the +prelate, carried him to the fresh green grass, where he +most tenderly laid him down.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Ah, gentle lord,’ said Roland, ‘give me leave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To carry here our comrades who are dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom we so dearly loved; they must not lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unblest; but I will bring their corpses here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou shalt bless them, and me, ere thou die.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Go,’ said the dying priest, ‘but soon return.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thank God! the victory is yours and mine!’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>With great pain and many delays Roland traversed +the field of slaughter, looking in the faces of the dead, +till he had found and brought to Turpin’s feet the +bodies of the eleven Peers, last of all Oliver, his own +dear friend and brother, and Turpin blessed and absolved +them all. Now Roland’s grief was so deep and his +weakness so great that he swooned where he stood, +and the archbishop saw him fall and heard his cry of +pain. Slowly and painfully Turpin struggled to his +feet, and, bending over Roland, took Olifant, the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +curved ivory horn; inch by inch the dying archbishop +tottered towards a little mountain stream, that the few +drops he could carry might revive Roland.</p> + + +<h3>He Dies</h3> + +<p>However, his weakness overcame him before he +reached the water, and he fell forward dying. Feebly +he made his confession, painfully he joined his hands +in prayer, and as he prayed his spirit fled. Turpin, +the faithful champion of the Cross, in teaching and in +battle, died in the service of Charlemagne. May God +have mercy on his soul!</p> + +<p>When Roland awoke from his swoon he looked for +Turpin, and found him dead, and, seeing Olifant, he +guessed what the archbishop’s aim had been, and wept +for pity. Crossing the fair white hands over Turpin’s +breast, he sadly prayed:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Alas! brave priest, fair lord of noble birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy soul I give to the great King of Heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No mightier champion has He in His hosts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No prophet greater to maintain the Faith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No teacher mightier to convert mankind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Christ’s Apostles walked upon the earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May thy fair soul escape the pains of Hell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Paradise receive thee in its bowers!’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>Roland’s Last Fight</h3> + +<p>Now death was very near to Roland, and he felt it +coming upon him while he yet prayed and commended +himself to his guardian angel Gabriel. Taking in one +hand Olifant, and in the other his good sword Durendala, +Roland climbed a little hill, one bowshot within the +realm of Spain. There under two pine-trees he found +four marble steps, and as he was about to climb them, +fell swooning on the grass very near his end. A lurking +Saracen, who had feigned death, stole from his covert, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +and, calling aloud, “Charles’s nephew is vanquished! +I will bear his sword back to Arabia,” seized Durendala +as it lay in Roland’s dying clasp. The attempt roused +Roland, and he opened his eyes, saying, “Thou art not +of us,” then struck such a blow with Olifant on the +helm of the heathen thief that he fell dead before his +intended victim.</p> + + +<h3>He Tries to Break his Sword</h3> + +<p>Pale, bleeding, dying, Roland struggled to his feet, +bent on saving his good blade from the defilement of +heathen hands. He grasped Durendala, and the brown +marble before him split beneath his mighty blows; but +the good sword stood firm, the steel grated but did not +break, and Roland lamented aloud that his famous +sword must now become the weapon of a lesser man. +Again Roland smote with Durendala, and clove the +block of sardonyx, but the good steel only grated and +did not break, and the hero bewailed himself aloud, +saying, “Alas! my good Durendala, how bright and +pure thou art! How thou flamest in the sunbeams, +as when the angel brought thee! How many lands +hast thou conquered for Charles my King, how many +champions slain, how many heathen converted! +Must I now leave thee to the pagans? May God +spare fair France this shame!” A third time Roland +raised the sword and struck a rock of blue marble, which +split asunder, but the steel only grated—it would not +break; and the hero knew that he could do no more.</p> + + +<h3>His Last Prayer</h3> + +<p>Then he flung himself on the ground under a pine-tree +with his face to the earth, his sword and Olifant +beneath him, his face to the foe, that Charlemagne and +the Franks might see when they came that he died +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +victorious. He made his confession, prayed for mercy, +and offered to Heaven his glove, in token of submission +for all his sins. “<em>Mea culpa!</em> O God! I pray for +pardon for all my sins, both great and small, that I +have sinned from my birth until this day.” So he held +up towards Heaven his right-hand glove, and the +angels of God descended around him. Again Roland +prayed:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘O very Father, who didst never lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst bring St. Lazarus from the dead again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst save St. Daniel from the lion’s mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save Thou my soul and keep it from all ills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I have merited by all my sins!’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>He Dies</h3> + +<p>Again he held up to Heaven his glove, and St. +Gabriel received it; then, with head bowed and +hands clasped, the hero died, and the waiting cherubim, +St. Raphael, St. Michael, and St. Gabriel, bore his soul +to Paradise.</p> + +<p>So died Roland and the Peers of France.</p> + + +<h3>Charles Arrives</h3> + +<p>Soon after Roland’s heroic spirit had passed away +the emperor came galloping out of the mountains into +the valley of Roncesvalles, where not a foot of ground +was without its burden of death.</p> + +<p>Loudly he called: “Fair nephew, where art thou? +Where is the archbishop? And Count Oliver? +Where are the Peers?”</p> + +<p>Alas! of what avail was it to call? No man replied, +for all were dead; and Charlemagne wrung his hands, +and tore his beard and wept, and his army bewailed +their slain comrades, and all men thought of vengeance. +Truly a fearful vengeance did Charles take, in that +terrible battle which he fought the next day against the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +Emir of Babylon, come from oversea to help his vassal +Marsile, when the sun stood still in heaven that the +Christians might be avenged on their enemies; in the +capture of Saragossa and the death of Marsile, who, +already mortally wounded, turned his face to the wall +and died when he heard of the defeat of the emir; +but when vengeance was taken on the open enemy +Charlemagne thought of mourning, and returned to +Roncesvalles to seek the body of his beloved nephew.</p> + +<p>The emperor knew well that Roland would be found +before his men, with his face to the foe. Thus he +advanced a bowshot from his companions and climbed +a little hill, there found the little flowery meadow +stained red with the blood of his barons, and there at +the summit, under the trees, lay the body of Roland +on the green grass. The broken blocks of marble bore +traces of the hero’s dying efforts, and Charlemagne +raised Roland, and, clasping the hero in his arms, +lamented over him.</p> + + +<h3>His Lament</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘The Lord have mercy, Roland, on thy soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never again shall our fair France behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A knight so worthy, till France be no more!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘The Lord have mercy, Roland, on thy soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou mayest rest in flowers of Paradise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all His glorious Saints for evermore!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My honour now will lessen and decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My days be spent in grief for lack of thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My joy and power will vanish. There is none,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comrade or kinsman, to maintain my cause.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘The Lord have mercy, Roland, on thy soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grant thee place in Paradise the blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou valiant youth, thou mighty conqueror!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How widowed lies our fair France and how lone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How will the realms that I have swayed rebel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now thou art taken from my weary age!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +<span class="i0">So deep my woe that fain would I die too<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And join my valiant Peers in Paradise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While men inter my weary limbs with thine!’”<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>The Dead Buried</h3> + +<p>The French army buried the dead with all honour, +where they had fallen, except the bodies of Roland, +Oliver, and Turpin, which were carried to Blaye, and +interred in the great cathedral there; and then Charlemagne +returned to Aix.</p> + + +<h3>Aude the Fair</h3> + +<p>As Charles the Great entered his palace a beauteous +maiden met him, Aude the Fair, the sister of Oliver and +betrothed bride of Roland. She asked eagerly:</p> + +<p>“Where is Roland the mighty captain, who swore to +take me for his bride?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr22.jpg" width="425" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_154" id="image_page_154"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Aude the Fair<br /> +Evelyn Paul</p> + +<p>“Alas! dear sister and friend,” said Charlemagne, +weeping and tearing his long white beard, “thou askest +tidings of the dead. But I will replace him: thou +shalt have Louis, my son, Count of the Marches.”</p> + +<p>“These words are strange,” exclaimed Aude the +Fair. “God and all His saints and angels forbid that +I should live when Roland my love is dead.” Thereupon +she lost her colour and fell at the emperor’s +feet; he thought her fainting, but she was dead. God +have mercy on her soul!</p> + + +<h3>The Traitor Put to Death</h3> + +<p>Too long it would be to tell of the trial of Ganelon +the traitor. Suffice it that he was torn asunder by wild +horses, and his name remains in France a byword for +all disloyalty and treachery.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> <i>See</i> “Myths and Legends of the Middle Ages,” by H. Guerber.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Marked out for death.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> The poetical quotations are from the “Chanson de Roland.”</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER VIII: THE COUNTESS +CATHLEEN</h2> + + +<h3>Celtic Mysticism</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>N all Celtic literature there is recognisable a certain +spirit which seems to be innate in the very character +of the people, a spirit of mysticism and +acknowledgment of the supernatural. It carries with +it a love of Nature, a delight in beauty, colour and +harmony, which is common to all the Celtic races. But +with these characteristics we find in Ireland a spiritual +beauty, a passion of self-sacrifice, unknown in Wales or +Brittany. Hence the early Irish heroes are frequently +found renouncing advantages, worldly honour, and life +itself, at the bidding of some imperative moral impulse. +They are the knights-errant of early European chivalry +which was a much deeper and more real inspiration +than the carefully cultivated artificial chivalry of centuries +later. Cuchulain, Diarmuit, Naesi all pay with +their lives for their obedience to the dictates of honour +and conscience. And in women, for whom in those +early days sacrifice of self was the only way of heroism, +the surrender even of eternal bliss was only the sublimation +of honour and chivalry; and this was the heroism +of the Countess Cathleen.</p> + + +<h3>The Cathleen Legend</h3> + +<p>The legend is old, so old that its root has been lost +and we know not who first imagined it; but the idea, +the central incident, doubtless goes back to Druid +times, when a woman might well have offered herself +up to the cruel gods to avert their wrath and stay the +plagues which fell upon her people. Under a like impulse +Curtius sprang into the gulf in the Forum, and +Decius devoted himself to death to win the safety of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +the Roman army. In each case the powers, evil or +beneficent, were supposed to be appeased by the offering +of a human life. When Christianity found this +legend of sacrifice popular among the heathen nations, +it was comparatively easy to adopt it and give it a yet +wider scope, by making the sacrifice spiritual rather +than physical, and by finally rewarding the hero with +heavenly joys. It is to be noted, too, that even at this +early period there is a certain glorification of chicanery: +the fiend fulfils his side of the contract, but God Himself +breaks the other side. This becomes a regular +feature in all tales that relate dealings with the Evil +One: all Devil’s Bridges, Devil’s Dykes, and the +Faust legends show that Satan may be trusted to keep +his word, while the saints invariably kept the letter and +broke the spirit. To so primitive a tale as that of +“The Countess Cathleen” the pettifogging quibbles of +later saints are utterly unknown: God saves her soul +because it is His will to reward such abnegation of self, +and even the Evil One dare not question the Divine Will.</p> + + +<h3>The Story. Happy Ireland</h3> + +<p>Once, long ago, as the Chronicles tell us, Ireland +was known throughout Europe as “The Isle of Saints,” +for St. Patrick had not long before preached the Gospel, +the message of good tidings, to the warring inhabitants, +to tribes of uncivilised Celts, and to marauding +Danes and Vikings. He had driven out the serpent-worshippers, +and consecrated the Black Stone of Tara +to the worship of the True God; he had convinced the +High King of the truth and reasonableness of the doctrine +of the Trinity by the illustration of the shamrock +leaf, and had overthrown the great idols and purified +the land. Therefore the fair shores and fertile vales of +Erin, the clustered islets, dropped like jewels in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +azure seas, the mist-covered, heather-clad hill-sides, even +the barren mountain-tops and the patches of firm +ground scattered in the solitudes of fathomless bogs, +were homes of pious Culdee or lonely hermit. There +was still strife in Ireland, for king fought with king, and +heathen marauders still vexed the land; but many warlike +Irish clans or “septs” turned their ardour for fight +to religious conflicts, and often every man of a tribe became +a monk, so that great abbeys and tribal monasteries +and schools were built on the hills where, in +former days, stood the chieftain’s stronghold (<i>rath</i> or +<i>dun</i>, as Irish legends name it), with its earth mounds and +wooden palisades. Holy psalms and chants replaced +the boastful songs of the old bards, whilst warriors +accustomed to regard fighting and hunting as the only +occupations worthy of a free-born man, now peacefully +illuminated manuscripts or wrought at useful handicrafts. +Yet still in secret they dreaded and tried to +appease the wrath of the Dagda, Brigit of the Holy +Fire, Ængus the Ever-Young, and the awful Washers of +the Ford, the Choosers of the Slain; and to this dread +was now joined the new fear of the cruel demons who +obeyed Satan, the Prince of Evil.</p> + + +<h3>The Young Countess</h3> + +<p>At this time there dwelt in Ireland the Countess +Cathleen, young, good, and beautiful. Her eyes were +as deep, as changeful, and as pure as the ocean that +washed Erin’s shores; her yellow hair, braided in two +long tresses, was as bright as the golden circlet on her +brow or the yellow corn in her garners; and her step +was as light and proud and free as that of the deer in +her wide domains. She lived in a stately castle in the +midst of great forests, with the cottages of her tribesmen +around her gates, and day by day and year by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +year she watched the changing glories of the mighty +woods, as the seasons brought new beauties, till her +soul was as lovely as the green woods and purple +hills around. The Countess Cathleen loved the dim, +mysterious forest, she loved the tales of the ancient +gods, and of</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Old, unhappy, far-off things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And battles long ago;”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="author">Wordsworth.</p> + +<p>but more than all she loved her clansmen and vassals: +she prayed for them at all the holy hours, and taught +and tended them with loving care, so that in no place in +Ireland could be found a happier tribe than that which +obeyed her gentle rule.</p> + + +<h3>Dearth and Famine</h3> + +<p>One year there fell upon Ireland, erewhile so happy, +a great desolation—“For Scripture saith, an ending to +all good things must be”<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a>—and the happiness of the +Countess Cathleen’s tribe came to an end in this wise: +A terrible famine fell on the land; the seed-corn rotted +in the ground, for rain and never-lifting mists filled +the heavy air and lay on the sodden earth; then when +spring came barren fields lay brown where the shooting +corn should be; the cattle died in the stall or fell from +weakness at the plough, and the sheep died of hunger +in the fold; as the year passed through summer +towards autumn the berries failed in the sun-parched +woods, and the withered leaves, fallen long before the +time, lay rotting on the dank earth; the timid wild +things of the forest, hares, rabbits, squirrels, died in +their holes or fell easy victims to the birds and beasts +of prey; and these, in their turn, died of hunger in the +famine-stricken forests.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +<span class="i0">“I searched all day: the mice and rats and hedgehogs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seemed to be dead, and I could hardly hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wing moving in all the famished woods.”<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>Distress of the Peasants</h3> + +<p>A cry of bitter agony and lamentation rose from the +starving Isle of Saints to the gates of Heaven, and fell +back unheard; the sky was hard as brass above and +the earth was barren beneath, and men and women +died in despair, their shrivelled lips still stained green +by the dried grass and twigs they had striven to eat.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“I passed by Margaret Nolan’s: for nine days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her mouth was green with dock and dandelion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now they wake her.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>The Misery Increases</h3> + +<p>In vain the High King of Ireland proclaimed a +universal peace, and wars between quarrelling tribes +stopped and foreign pirates ceased to molest the land, +and chief met chief in the common bond of misery; +in vain the rich gave freely of their wealth—soon there +was no distinction between rich and poor, high and low, +chief and vassal, for all alike felt the grip of famine, all +died by the same terrible hunger. Soon many of the +great monasteries lay desolate, their stores exhausted, +their portals open, while the brethren, dead within, had +none to bury them; the lonely hermits died in their +little beehive-shaped cells, or fled from the dreadful +solitude to gather in some wealthy abbey which could +still feed its monks; and isle and vale which had +echoed their holy chants knew the sounds no more. +Over all, unlifting, unchanging, brooded the deadly +vapour, bearing the plague in its heavy folds, and +filling the air with a sultry lurid haze.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +<span class="i0">“There is no sign of change—day copies day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green things are dead—the cattle too are dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or dying—and on all the vapour hangs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fattens with disease, and glows with heat.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>Cathleen Heartbroken for her People</h3> + +<p>Round the castle of the Countess Cathleen there was +great stir and bustle, for her tender heart was wrung +with the misery of her people, and her prayers for them +ascended to God unceasingly. So thin she grew and so +worn that the physicians bade her servants bring harp +and song to charm away the sadness that weighed upon +her spirit; but all in vain! Neither the well-loved +legends of the ancient gods, nor her harp, nor the voice +of her bards could bring her relief—nothing but the +attempt to save her people. From the earliest days of +the famine her house and her stores were ever ready to +supply the wants of the homeless, the poor, the suffering; +her wealth was freely spent for food for the +starving while supplies could yet be bought either near +or in distant baronies; and when known supplies failed +her lavish offers tempted the churlish farmers, who still +hoarded grain that they might enrich themselves in the +great dearth, to sell some of their garnered stores. +When she could no longer induce them to part with +their grain, her own winter provisions, wine and corn, +were distributed generously to all who asked for relief, +and none ever left her castle without succour.</p> + + +<h3>Her Wide Charity</h3> + +<p>Thus passed the early months of bitter starvation, +and the Countess Cathleen’s name was borne far and +wide through Ireland, accompanied with the blessings +of all the rescued; and round her castle, from every +district, gathered a mighty throng of poor—not only her +own clansmen—who all looked to her for a daily dole of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +food and drink to keep some life in them until the +pestilential mists should pass away. The wholesome +cold of winter would purify the air and bring new hope +and promise of new life in the coming year. Alas! +the winter drew on apace and still the poisonous +yellow vapours hung heavily over the land, and still the +deadly famine clutched each feeble heart and weakened +the very springs of life, and the winter frosts slew more +than the summer heats, so feeble were the people and so +weakened.</p> + + +<h3>Lawlessness Breaks Out</h3> + +<p>At last, even in the Isle of Saints, the bonds of right +and wrong were loosened, all respect for property +vanished in the universal desolation, and men began to +rob and plunder, to trust only to the right of might, +thinking that their poor miserable lives were of more +value than aught else, than conscience and pity and +honesty. Thus Cathleen lost by barefaced robbery +much of what she still possessed of flocks and herds, of +scanty fruit and corn. Her servants would gladly have +pursued the robbers and regained the spoils, but Cathleen +forbade it, for she pitied the miserable thieves, and +thought no evil of them in this bitter dearth. By this +time she had distributed all her winter stores, and had +only enough to feed her poor pensioners and her household +with most scanty rations; and she herself shared +equally with them, for the most earnest entreaties of her +faithful servants could not induce her to fare better than +they in anything. Soon there would be nothing left for +daily distribution, and her heart almost broke as she saw +the misery of her helpless dependents; they looked to +her as an angel of pity and deliverance, while she knew +herself to be as helpless as they. Day by day Cathleen +went among them, with her pitifully scanty doles of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +food, cheering them by her words and smiles, and by +her very presence; and each day she went to her chapel, +where she could cast aside the mask of cheerfulness +she wore before her people, and prayed to the Blessed +Virgin Mary and all the saints to show her how to save +her own tribe and all the land.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr23.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_162" id="image_page_162"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Day by day Cathleen went among them”</p> + + +<h3>Cathleen Has an Inspiration</h3> + +<p>As the Countess knelt long before the altar one noontide +she passed from her prayers into a deep sleep, and +sank down on the altar steps. In the troubled depths +of her mind a thought arose, which came to her as an +inspiration from Heaven itself. She awoke and sprang +up joyfully, exclaiming aloud: “Thanks be to Our Lady +and to all the saints! To them alone the blessed +thought is due. Thus can I save my poor until the +dearth is over.”</p> + +<p>Then Cathleen left her oratory with such a light +heart as she had not felt since the terrible visitation +began, and the gladness in her face was so new and +wonderful that all her servants noticed the change, and +her old foster-mother, who loved the Countess with the +utmost devotion, shuddered at the thought that perhaps +her darling had come under the power of the ancient +gods and would be bewitched away to Tir-nan-og, +the land of never-dying youth. Fearfully old Oona +watched Cathleen’s face as she passed through the hall, +and Cathleen saw the anxious gaze, and came and laid +her hand on the old woman’s shoulder, saying, “Nay, +fear not, nurse; the saints have heard my prayer and +put it into my heart to save all these helpless ones.” +Then she crossed the hall to her own room, and called +a servant, saying, “Send hither quickly Fergus my +steward.”</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<h3>She Summons her Steward</h3> + +<p>Shortly afterwards the steward came, Fergus the +White, an old grey-haired man, who had been foster-brother +to Cathleen’s grandfather. He had seen three +generations pass away, he had watched the change from +heathenism to Christianity, and of all the chief’s family, +to which his loyal devotion had ever clung, there remained +but this one young girl, and he loved her as +his own child. Fergus did obeisance to his liege lady, +and kissed her hand kneeling as he asked:</p> + +<p>“What would the Countess Cathleen with her +steward? Shall I render my account of lands and +wealth?”</p> + + +<h3>Demands to Know what Wealth she Owns</h3> + +<p>“How much have I in lands?” the Countess asked. +And Fergus answered in surprise: “Your lands are +worth one hundred thousand pounds.”</p> + +<p>“Of what value is the timber in my forests?” “As +much again.”</p> + +<p>“What is the worth of my castles and my fair +residences?” continued the Countess Cathleen. And +Fergus still replied: “As much more,” though in his +heart he questioned why his lady wished to know now, +while the famine made all riches seem valueless.</p> + +<p>“How much gold still unspent lies in thy charge in +my treasure-chests?”</p> + +<p>“Lady, your stored gold is three hundred thousand +pounds, as much as all your lands and forests and +houses are worth.”</p> + +<p>The Countess Cathleen thought for an instant, and +then, as one who makes a momentous decision, spoke +firmly, though her lips quivered as she gave utterance +to her thought:</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<h3>“Go Far and Buy Food”</h3> + +<p>“Then, Fergus, take my bags of coin and go. Leave +here my jewels and some gold, for I may hear of some +stores of grain hoarded by niggard farmers, and may +induce them to sell, if not for the love of God, then +for the love of gold. Take, too, authority from me, +written and sealed with my seal, to sell all my lands and +timber, and castles, except this one alone where I must +dwell. Send a man, trustworthy and speedy, to the +North, to Ulster, where I hear the famine is less terrible, +and let him buy what cattle he can find, and drive them +back as soon as may be.”</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Keeping this house alone, sell all I have;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go to some distant country, and come again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With many herds of cows and ships of grain.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>The Steward Reluctantly Obeys</h3> + +<p>The ancient steward, Fergus the White, stood at first +speechless with horror and grief, but after a moment of +silence his sorrow found vent in words, and he besought +his dear lady not to sell everything, her ancient home, +her father’s lands, her treasured heirlooms, and leave +herself no wealth for happier times. All his persuasions +were useless, for Cathleen would not be moved; she +bade him “Farewell” and hastened his journey, saying, +“A cry is in mine ears; I cannot rest.” So there was +no help for it. A trusty man was despatched to Ulster +to buy up all the cattle (weak and famine-stricken as +they would be) in the North Country; while Fergus +himself journeyed swiftly to England, which was still +prosperous and fertile, untouched by the deadly famine, +and knowing nothing of the desolation of the sister isle, +to which the English owed so much of their knowledge +of the True Faith.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Buys Stores in England</h3> + +<p>In England Fergus spent all the gold he brought +with him, and then sold all the Countess Cathleen bade +him sell—lands, castles, forests, pastures, timber—all +but one lonely castle in the desolate woods, where she +dwelt among her own people, with the dying folk +thronging round her gates and in her halls. Good +bargains Fergus made also, for he was a shrewd and +loyal steward, and the saints must have touched the +hearts of the English merchants, so that they gave +good prices for all, or perhaps they did not realize the +dire distress that prevailed in Ireland. However that +may have been, Fergus prospered in his trading, and +bought grain, and wine, and fat oxen and sheep, so that +he loaded many ships with full freights of provisions, +enough to carry the starving peasantry through the +famine year till the next harvest. At last all his money +was spent, all his ships were laden, everything was +ready, and the little fleet lay in harbour, only awaiting +a fair wind, which, unhappily, did not come.</p> + + +<h3>His Return Delayed</h3> + +<p>First of all Fergus waited through a deadly calm, +when the sails hung motionless, drooping, with no +breath of air to stir them, when the fog that brooded +over the shores of England never lifted and all sailing +was impossible; then the winds dispersed the fog, +and Fergus, forgetting caution in his great anxiety to +return, hastily set sail for his own land, and there came +fierce tempests and contrary winds, so that his little +fleet was driven back, and one or two ships went down +with all their stores of food. Fergus wept to see his +lady’s wealth lost in the wintry sea, but he dared not +venture again, and though he chafed and fretted at +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +the delay, it was nearly two months after he reached +England before he could sail back to his young mistress +and her starving countrymen. The trusty messenger +who had been sent to buy cattle had succeeded beyond +his own expectation; he also had made successful +bargains, and had found more cattle than he believed +were still alive in Ireland. He had bought all, and was +driving them slowly towards the Countess Cathleen’s +forest dwelling. Their progress was so slow, because of +their weakness and the scanty fodder by the way, that +no news of them came to Cathleen, and she knew not +that while corn and cattle were coming with Fergus +across the sea, food was also coming to her slowly +through the barren ways of her own native land. None +of this she knew, and despair would have filled her +heart, but for her faith in God and her belief in the +great inspiration that had been given to her.</p> + + +<h3>Deepening Misery in Ireland</h3> + +<p>Meanwhile terrible things had been happening in +Ireland. As in England in later days, “men said openly +that Christ and His saints slept”; they thought with +longing of the mighty old gods, for the new seemed +powerless, and they yearned for the friendly “good +people” who had fled from the sound of the church +bell. Thus many minds were ready to revolt from the +Christian faith if they had not feared the life after death +and the endless torments of the Christian Hell. Some +few, desperate, even offered secret worship to the old +heathen gods, and true love to the One True God had +grown cold.</p> + + +<h3>Two Mysterious Strangers</h3> + +<p>Now on the very day on which Fergus sailed for England, +and his comrade departed to Ulster, two mysterious +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +and stately strangers suddenly appeared in Erin. Whence +they came no man knew, but they were first seen near +the wild sea-shore of the west, and the few poor inhabitants +thought they had been put ashore by some +vessel or wrecked on that dangerous coast. Aliens they +certainly were, for they talked with each other in a +tongue that none understood, and they appeared as if +they did not comprehend the questions asked of them. +Thus they passed away from the western coasts, and +made their way inland; but when they next appeared, +in a village not far from Dublin, they had greatly +changed: they wore magnificent robes and furs, with +splendid jewelled gloves on their hands, and golden +circlets, set with gleaming rubies, bound their brows; +their black steeds showed no trace of weakness and +famine as they rode through the woods and carefully +noted the misery everywhere.</p> + + +<h3>Their Strange Story</h3> + +<p>At last they alighted at the little lodge, where a +forester’s widow gladly received them; and their royal +dress, lofty bearing and strange language accorded ill +with the mean surroundings and the scanty accommodation +of that little hut. The dead forester had +been one of the Countess Cathleen’s most faithful +vassals, and his holding was but a short distance from +the castle, so that the strangers could, unobserved, watch +the life of the little village. As time passed they told +their hostess they were merchants, simple traders from a +distant country, trafficking in very precious gems; but +they had no wares for exchange, and no gems to show; +they made no inquiries or researches, bargained with +no man, seemed to do no business; they were the most +unusual merchants ever seen in Ireland, and the strangeness +of their behaviour troubled men’s minds.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Mysterious Behaviour</h3> + +<p>Day by day they ate, unquestioning, the coarse food +their poor hostess set before them, and the black bread +which was the best food obtainable in those terrible +days, but they added to it wine, rich and red, from +their own private store, and they paid her lavishly in +good red gold, so that she wondered that any men +should stay in the famine-stricken country when they +could so easily leave it at their will. Gradually, too, +speaking now in the Irish tongue, they began to ask +her cautious questions of the people, of the land, of +the famine, how men lived and how they died, and so +they heard of the exceeding goodness of the Countess +Cathleen, whose bounty had saved so many lives, and +was still saving others, though the deadly pinch of famine +grew sorer with the passing days. To their hostess they +admired Cathleen’s goodness, and were loud in her +praises, but they looked askance at one another and +their brows were black with discontent.</p> + + +<h3>Professed Errand of Mercy</h3> + +<p>Then one day the kingly merchants told the poor +widow who harboured them that they too were the +friends of the poor and starving; they were servants +of a mighty prince, who in his compassion and mercy +had sent them on a mission to Ireland to help the +afflicted peasants to fight against famine and death. +They said that they themselves had no food to give, +only wine and gold in plenty, so that men might exert +themselves and search for food to buy. Their hostess, +hearing this, and knowing that there were still some +niggards who refused to part with their mouldering +heaps of corn, setting the price so high that no man +could buy, called down the blessing of God and Mary +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +and all the saints upon their heads, for if they would +distribute their gold to all, or even buy the corn themselves +and distribute it, men need no longer die of +hunger.</p> + + +<h3>A New Traffic</h3> + +<p>When she prayed for a blessing on the two strangers +they smiled scornfully and impatiently; and the elder +said, cunningly:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Alas! we know the evils of mere charity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And would devise a more considered way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let each man bring one piece of merchandise.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“Ah, sirs!” replied the hostess, “then your compassion, +your gold and your goodwill are of no avail. +Think you, after all these weary months, that any man +has merchandise left to sell? They have sold long ago +all but the very clothes they wear, to keep themselves +alive till better days come. Such offers are mockery of +our distress.”</p> + +<p>“We mock you not,” said the elder merchant. “All +men have the one precious thing we wish to buy, and +have come hither to find; none has already lost or +sold it.”</p> + +<p>“What precious treasure can you mean? Men in +Ireland now have only their lives, and can barely +cherish those,” said the poor woman, wondering greatly +and much afraid.</p> + + +<h3>Buyers of Souls</h3> + +<p>The elder merchant continued gazing at her with a +crafty smile and an eye ever on the alert for tokens of +understanding. “Poor as they are, Irishmen have still +one thing that we will purchase, if they will sell: their +souls, which we have come to obtain for our mighty +Prince, and with the great price that we shall pay in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +pure gold men can well save their lives till the starving +time is over. Why should men die a cruel, lingering +death or drag through weary months of miserable half-satisfied +life when they may live well and merrily at +the cost of a soul, which is no good but to cause fear +and pain? We take men’s souls and liberate them from +all pain and care and remorse, and we give in exchange +money, much money, to procure comforts and ease; +we enrol men as vassals of our great lord, and he is no +hard taskmaster to those who own his sway.”</p> + + +<h3>Slow Trade at First</h3> + +<p>When the poor widow heard these dreadful words +she knew that the strangers were demons come to +tempt men’s souls and to lure them to Hell. She +crossed herself, and fled from them in fear, praying to +be kept from temptation; and she would not return to +her little cottage in the forest, but stayed in the village +warning men against the evil demons who were tempting +the starving people, till she too died of the famine, +and her house was left wholly to the strangers. Yet +the merchants fared ever well, better than before her +departure, and those who ventured to the forest +dwelling found good food and rich wine, which the +strangers sometimes gave to their visitors, with crafty +hints of abundance to be easily obtained. Then when +timid individuals asked the way to win these comforts +the strangers began their tempting, and represented the +case to be gained by the sale of men’s souls. One man, +bolder than the rest, made a bargain with the demons +and gave them his soul for three hundred crowns of +gold, and from that time he in his turn became a +tempter. He boasted of his wealth, of the rich food +the merchants gave him at times, of the potent wine +he drank from their generously opened bottles, and, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +best of all, he vaunted his freedom from pity, conscience, +or remorse.</p> + + +<h3>Trade Increases</h3> + +<p>Gradually many people came to the forest dwelling +and trafficked with the demon merchants. The purchase +of souls went on busily, and the demons paid prices +varying according to the worth of the soul and the +record of its former sins; but to all who sold they +gave food and wine, and in gloating over their gold +and satisfying hunger and thirst, men forgot to ask +whence came this food and wine and the endless stores +of coin. Now many people ventured into the forest to +deal with the demons, and the narrow track grew into +a broad beaten way with the numbers of those who +came, and all returned fed and warmed, and bearing +bags heavy with coin, and the promise of abundant +food and easy service. Those who had sold their souls +rioted with the money, for the demons gave them food, +and they bought wine from the inexhaustible stores +of the evil merchants. The poor, lost people knew that +there was no hope for them after death, and they tried +by all means to keep themselves alive and to enjoy +what was yet left to them; but their mirth was fearful +and they durst not stop to think.</p> + + +<h3>Cathleen Hears of the Demon Traders</h3> + +<p>At first the Countess Cathleen knew nothing of the +terrible doings of the demons, for she never passed beyond +her castle gates, but spent her time in prayer for +her people’s safety and for the speedy return of her messengers; +but when the starving throng of pensioners at +her gates grew daily less, and there were fewer claimants +for the pitiful allowance which was all she had to give, +she wondered if some other mightier helper had come +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +to Ireland. But she could hear of none, and soon the +shameless rioting and drunkenness in the village came +to her knowledge, and she wondered yet more whence +her clansmen obtained the means for their excesses, for +she felt instinctively that the origin of all this rioting +must be evil. Cathleen therefore called to her an old +peasant, whose wife had died of hunger in the early +days of the famine, so that he himself had longed to +die and join her; but when he came to her she was +horror-struck by the change in him. Now he came +flushed with wine, with defiant look and insolent bearing, +and his face was full of evil mirth as he tried to +answer soberly the Countess’s questions.</p> + +<p>“Why do the villagers and strangers no longer +come to me for food? I have but little now to give, +but all are welcome to share it with me and my +household.”</p> + + +<h3>The Peasant’s Story</h3> + +<p>“They do not come, O Countess, because they are +no longer starving. They have better food and wine, +and abundance of money to buy more.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr24.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_172" id="image_page_172"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The peasant’s story</p> + +<p>“Whence then have they obtained the money, the +food, and the wine for the drinking-bouts, the tumult +of which reaches me even in my oratory?”</p> + +<p>“Lady, they have received all from the generous +merchants who are in the forest dwelling where old +Mairi formerly lived; she is dead now, and these noble +strangers keep open house in her cottage night and +day; they are so wealthy that they need not stint their +bounty, and so powerful that they can find good food, +enough for all who go to them. Since Brigit died +(your old servant, lady) her husband and son work no +more, but serve the strange merchants, and urge +men to join them; and I, and many others, have +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +done so, and we are now wealthy” (here he showed +the Countess a handful of gold) “and well fed, and have +wine as much as heart can desire.”</p> + +<p>“But do you give them nothing in return for all +their generosity? Are they so noble that they ask +nothing in requital of their bounty?”</p> + + +<h3>“Good Gold for Souls”</h3> + +<p>“Oh, yes, we give them something, but nothing +of importance, nothing we cannot spare. They are +merchants of souls, and buy them for their king, and +they pay good red gold for the useless, painful things. +I have sold my soul to them, and now I weep no more +for my wife; I am gay, and have wine enough and +gold enough to help me through this dearth!”</p> + +<p>“Alas!” sighed the Countess, “and what when +you too die?” The old peasant laughed at her grief +as he said: “Then, as now, I shall have no soul to +trouble me with remorse or conscience”; and the +Countess covered her eyes with her hand and beckoned +silently that he should go. In her oratory, whither she +betook herself immediately, she prayed with all her +spirit that the Virgin and all the saints would inspire +her to defeat the demons and to save her people’s souls.</p> + + +<h3>Cathleen Tries to Check the Traffic</h3> + +<p>Next day Cathleen called together all the people in +the village, her own tribesmen and strangers. She +offered them again a share of all she had, and the daily +rations she could distribute, but told them that all must +share alike and that she had nothing but the barest +necessaries to give—scanty portions of corn and meal, +with milk from one or two famine-stricken cows her +servants had managed to keep alive. To this she +added that she had sent two trusty messengers for help, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +one to Ulster for cattle, and Fergus to England for +corn and wine; they must return soon, she felt sure, +with abundant supplies, if men would patiently await +their return.</p> + + +<h3>In Vain</h3> + +<p>But all was useless. Her messengers had sent no +word of their return, and the abundant supplies at the +forest cottage were more easily obtained, and were less +carefully regulated, than those of the Countess Cathleen. +The merchants, too, were ever at hand with their cunning +wiles, and their active, persuasive dupes, who +would gladly bring all others into their own soulless +condition. The wine given by the demons warmed the +hearts of all who drank, and the deceived peasants +dreamed of happiness when the famine was over, and +so the passionate appeal of the Countess failed, and +the sale of souls continued merrily. The noise of +revelry grew daily louder and more riotous, and the +drinkers cared nothing for the death or departure of +their dearest friends; while those who died, died +drunken and utterly reckless, or full of horror and +despair, reviling the crafty merchants who had deceived +them with promises of life and happiness. The evil +influence clung all about the country-side, and seemed +in league with the pitiless powers of Nature against +the souls of men, till at last the stricken Countess, +putting her trust in God, sought out the forest lodge +where the demon merchants dwelt, trafficking for souls. +The way was easy to find now, for a broad beaten track +led to the dwelling, and as the evil spirits saw Cathleen +coming slowly along the path their wicked eyes gleamed +and their clawlike hands worked convulsively in their +jewelled gloves, for they hoped she had come to sell +her pure soul.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<h3>She Visits the Demons</h3> + +<p>“What does the Countess Cathleen wish to obtain +from two poor stranger merchants?” said the elder +with an evil smile; and the younger, bowing deeply +said: “Lady, you may command us in all things, save +what touches our allegiance to our king.” Cathleen +replied: “I have no merchandise to barter, nothing for +trade with you, for you buy such things as I will never +sell: you buy men’s souls for Hell. I come only to +beg that you will release the poor souls whom you have +bought for Satan’s kingdom, and will have mercy on my +ignorant people and deceive them no more. I have yet +some gold unspent and jewels unsold: take all there is +but let my people go free.” Then the merchants +laughed aloud scornfully, and rejected her offer. +“Would you have us undo our work? Have we +toiled, then, for naught to extend our master’s sway? +Have we won for him so many souls to dwell for ever +in his kingdom and do his work, and shall we give +them back for your entreaties? We have gold enough, +and food and wine enough, fair lady. The souls we +have bought we keep, for our master gives us honour +and rank proportioned to the number of souls we win +for him, and you may see by the golden circlets round +our brows that we are princes of his kingdom, and have +brought him countless souls. Nevertheless, there is +one most rare and precious thing which could redeem +these bartered souls of Ireland’s peasants, things of little +worth.”</p> + + +<h3>They Make a Proposal</h3> + +<p>“Oh, what is that?” said the Countess. “If I have +it, or can in any way procure it, tell me, that I may +redeem these deluded people’s souls.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +“You have it now, fair saint. It is one pure soul, +precious as multitudes of more sin-stained souls. Our +master would far rather have a perfect and flawless pearl +for his diadem than myriads of these cracked and flawed +crystals. Your soul, most saintly Countess, would +redeem the souls of all your tribe, if you would sell it +to our king; it would be the fairest jewel in his crown. +But think not to save your people otherwise, and +beguile them no longer with false promises of help: +your messenger to Ulster lies sick of ague in the Bog of +Allen, and no food comes from England.”</p> + + +<h3>False Tidings</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i11">“We saw a man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heavy with sickness in the Bog of Allen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom you had bid buy cattle. Near Fair Head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We saw your grain ships lying all becalmed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dark night, and not less still than they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burned all their mirrored lanterns in the sea.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When Cathleen heard of the failure of her messengers +to bring food it seemed as if all hope were indeed over, +and the demons smiled craftily upon her as she turned +silently to go, and laughed joyously to each other when +she had left their presence. Now they had good hope +to win her for their master; but they knew that their +time was short, since help was not far away.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Last night, closed in the image of an owl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hurried to the cliffs of Donegal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw, creeping on the uneasy surge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those ships that bring the woman grain and meal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are five days from us.<br /></span> +<span class="i11">I hurried east,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A grey owl flitting, flitting in the dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw nine hundred oxen toil through Meath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Driven on by goads of iron; they too, brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are full five days from us. Five days for traffic.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Cathleen’s Despair</h3> + +<p>The Countess then went back in bitter grief to her +desolate castle, where only faithful old servants now +waited in the halls, and whispered together in the dark +corners, and, kneeling in her oratory, she prayed far into +the night for light in her darkness. As she prayed +before the altar she slept for very weariness, and was +aroused by a sudden furious knocking, and an outcry of +“Thieves! Thieves!” Cathleen rose quickly from +the altar steps, and met her foster-mother, Oona, at the +door of the oratory; and Oona cried aloud: “Thieves +have broken into the treasure-chamber, and nothing is +left!” Cathleen asked if this were true, and discovered +that not a single coin, not a single gem was left: the +demons had stolen all. And while the servants still +mourned over the lost treasures of the house there +came another cry of “Thieves! Thieves!” and an +old peasant rushed in, exclaiming that all the food was +gone. That, alas! was true: the few sacks of meal +which supplied the scanty daily fare were emptied and +the bags flung on the floor. Now indeed the last poor +resource was gone.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr25.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_176" id="image_page_176"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Thieves have broken into the treasure-chamber”</p> + + +<h3>A Desperate Decision</h3> + +<p>When the Countess heard of this last terrible +misfortune a great light broke upon her mind with a +blinding flash, and showed her a way to save others, +even at the cost of her own salvation. It seemed God’s +answer to her prayer for guidance, and she resolved +to follow the inspiration thus sent into her mind. +She decided now what she would do; her mind was +made up, and the light which shines from extreme +sacrifice of self was so bright upon her face that her +old nurse and her servants, wailing around her, were +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +awe-stricken and durst not question or check her. +She returned to her oratory door, and, standing on +the steps, looking down on her weeping domestics, +she cried:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i11">“I am desolate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a most sad resolve wakes in my heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But always I have faith. Old men and women,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be silent; God does not forsake the world.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Mary Queen of Angels<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all you clouds and clouds of saints, farewell!”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>With one last long gaze at the little altar of her oratory +she resolutely closed the door and turned away.</p> + + +<h3>She Revisits the Demons</h3> + +<p>The next day the merchants in their forest lodge +were still buying souls, and giving food and wine to the +starving peasants who sold. They were buying men +and women, sinful, terrified, afraid to die, eager to live; +buying them more cheaply than before because of the +increase of sin and terror. Bargains were being struck +and bartering was in full progress, when suddenly all +the peasants stopped, shamefaced, as one said, “Here +comes the Countess Cathleen,” and down the track she +was seen approaching slowly. One by one the peasants +slunk away, and the demon merchants were quite alone +when Cathleen entered the little cottage where they sat, +with bags of coin on the table before them and on the +ground beside them. Again they greeted her with +mocking respect, and asked to know her will.</p> + +<p>“Merchants, do you still buy souls for Hell?”</p> + +<p>“Lady, our traffic prospers, for the famine lies long +on the land, and men would fain live till better days +come again. Besides, we can give them food and wine +and wealth for future years; and all in exchange for a +mere soul, a little breath of wind.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +“Perhaps the Countess Cathleen has come to deal +with us,” said the younger.</p> + +<p>“Merchant, you are right; I have come to bring +you merchandise. I have a soul to sell, so costly that +perhaps the price is beyond your means.”</p> + +<p>The elder merchant replied joyfully: “No price is +beyond our means, if only the soul be worth the price; +if it be a pure and stainless soul, fit to join the angels +and saints in Paradise, our master will gladly pay all +you ask. Whose is the soul, and what is the price?”</p> + + +<h3>Her Terms</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The people starve, therefore the people go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thronging to you. I hear a cry come from them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it is in my ears by night and day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I would have five hundred thousand crowns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find food for them till the dearth go by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And have the wretched spirits you have bought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For your gold crowns, released, and sent to God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul that I would barter is my soul.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>The Bond Signed</h3> + +<p>When the demons heard this, and knew that Cathleen +was willing to give her own soul as ransom for the +souls of others, they were overjoyed, their eyes flashed, +the rubies of their golden crowns shot out fiery gleams, +and their fingers clutched the air as if they already held +her stainless soul. This would be a great triumph to +their master, and they would win great honour in Hell +when they brought him a soul worth far, far more than +large abundance of ordinary sinful souls. Very carefully +they watched while the trembling Countess signed +the bond which gave her soul to Hell, very gladly they +paid down the money for which she had stipulated, and +very joyously they saw the signs of speedy death in her +face, knowing, as they did, how soon the coming relief +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +would show her sacrifice to have been unnecessary, +though now it was irrevocable.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr26.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_180" id="image_page_180"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Cathleen signed the bond”</p> + + +<h3>General Lamentation</h3> + +<p>Sadly but resolutely she turned away, followed by +her servants bearing the bags of gold, and as she passed +through the village a rumour ran before her of what +she had done. All men were sobered by the terrible +tidings, and the redeemed people waited for her coming, +and followed her weeping and lamenting, for now their +souls were free again, and they recognised the great +sacrifice she had made for them; but it was too late to +save her, though now all would have died for her. +Cathleen passed on into her castle, and there in the +courtyard she distributed the money to all her people, +and bade them dwell quietly in obedience till her steward +returned. She herself, she said, could not stay; she +must go on a long and dark journey, for her people’s +need had broken her heart and conquered her; she +was no longer her own, but belonged to the dark lord +of Hell; she could not bid them pray for her, nor +could she pray for herself.</p> + + +<h3>Cathleen Fades Away</h3> + +<p>Her people, who knew the great price at which she +had redeemed them, besought the Blessed Virgin and +all the saints to have mercy on her; and all the souls +she had released, on earth and in Heaven, prayed for +her night and day, and the blessed saints interceded +for her. Yet from day to day the Countess Cathleen +faded, and the demons, ceasing all other traffic, lurked +in waiting to catch her soul as she died. Night and day +her heart-broken foster-mother Oona tended her; but +she grew feebler, till it seemed that she would die before +Fergus returned.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<h3>The Steward Returns</h3> + +<p>On the fifth day, however, glad tidings came. Fergus +had landed, and sent word that he was bringing corn +and meal as quickly as possible; also a wandering +peasant brought a message that nine hundred oxen were +within one day’s journey of her castle; and when the +gentle Cathleen heard this, and knew that her people +were safe, she died with a smile on her lips and thanks +to God for her people on her tongue. That same night +a great tempest broke over the land, which drove away +the pestilential mists, and left the country free from +evil influences, for with the morning men found the +forest lodge crushed beneath the fallen trees, and the +two demon merchants vanished. All gathered round +the castle and mourned for the Countess Cathleen, for +none knew how it would go with her spirit; they feared +that the evil demons had borne her soul to Hell. All +had prayed for her, but there had been no sign, no token +of forgiveness. Nevertheless their prayers were heard +and answered.</p> + + +<h3>The Demons Cheated</h3> + +<p>In the next night, when the great storm had passed +away and the vapours no longer filled the air, when Fergus +had distributed food and wine, and the oxen had been +apportioned to every family, so that plenty reigned in +every house, when only Cathleen’s castle lay desolate, +shrouded in gloom, the faithful old nurse Oona, watching +by the body of her darling, had a glorious vision. +She saw the splendid armies of the angels who guard +mankind from evil, she saw the saints who had suffered +and overcome, and amid them was the Countess Cathleen, +happy with saints and angels in the bliss of Paradise; +for her love had redeemed her own soul as well as the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +souls of others, and God had pardoned her sin because +of her self-sacrifice.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The light beats down: the gates of pearl are wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she is passing to the floor of peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Mary of the seven times wounded heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has kissed her lips, and the long blessed hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has fallen on her face; the Light of Lights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks always on the motive, not the deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Shadow of Shadows on the deed alone.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnotes"><h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> C. Kingsley.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> The poetical quotations throughout this story are taken, by +permission, from Mr. W. B. Yeats’s play “The Countess Cathleen.”</p></div> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER IX: CUCHULAIN, THE +CHAMPION OF IRELAND</h2> + + +<h3>Introduction</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>MONG all the early literatures of Europe, there +are two which, at exactly opposite corners of the +continent, display most strikingly similar characteristics, +characteristics which apparently point to some +racial affinity in the peoples who produced them. These +literatures are the Greek and the Irish. It has been +maintained with much ingenuity that the Greeks of +Homer, the early Britons, and the Irish Celts were all +of one stock, as shown by the many points they had in +common. It is certain that in customs, manner of life, +ethics, ideas of religion, and methods of warfare a +striking similarity may be seen between the Greeks as +described by Homer and the Britons as Julius Cæsar +knew them, or the Irish as their own legends reveal +them. We must expect to find in their myths and legends +a certain resemblance of Celtic ideas to Greek ideas; +and if the great Achilles sulks in his tent because he is +unjustly deprived of his captive, the fair Briseis, we shall +not be surprised to find the Champion of Erin quarrelling +over his claim to precedence. The contest between +the heroes for the armour of dead Achilles is paralleled +by this contest between the three greatest warriors of +Ireland for the special dish of honour called the +“Champion’s Portion,” a distinction which also recalls +Greek life.</p> + + +<h3>Cuchulain, the Irish Achilles</h3> + +<p>The resemblance of the Cuchulain legend to the story +of Achilles is so strong that Cuchulain is often called +“the Irish Achilles,” but there are elements of humour +and pathos in his story which the tale of Achilles cannot +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +show, and in reckless courage, power of inspiring dread, +sense of personal merit, and frankness of speech the +Irish hero is not inferior to the mighty Greek. The +way in which Cuchulain established his claim to be +regarded as Chief Champion of Erin is related in the +following story, which shows some primitive Celtic +features found again in Welsh legends and other +national folk-tales.</p> + + +<h3>The Youth of Cuchulain</h3> + +<p>Cuchulain was the nephew of King Conor of Ulster, +son of his sister Dechtire, and men say his father was +no mortal man, but the great god Lugh of the Long +Hand. When Cuchulain was born he was brought up +by King Conor himself and the wisest men of Ireland; +when five years old, he beat all the other boys in games +and warlike exercises, and on the day on which he was +seven he assumed the arms of a warrior, so much +greater was he than the sons of mortal men. Cuchulain +had overheard his tutor, Cathbad the Druid, say to the +older youths, “If any young man take arms to-day, his +name will be greater than any other name in Ireland, +but his span of life will be short,” and as he loved fame +above long life, he persuaded his uncle, King Conor, to +invest him with the weapons of manhood. His fame +soon spread all over Ireland, for his warlike deeds were +those of a proved warrior, not of a child of nursery age, +and by the time Cuchulain was seventeen he was in reality +without peer among the champions of Ulster, or of all +Ireland.</p> + + +<h3>Cuchulain’s Marriage</h3> + +<p>When the men of Ulster remembered Cuchulain’s +divine origin, they would fain have him married, so that +he might not die childless; and for a year they searched +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +all Erin for a fit bride for so great a champion. +Cuchulain, however, went wooing for himself, to the +dun of Forgall the Wily, a Druid of great power. +Forgall had two daughters, of whom the younger, Emer, +was the most lovely and virtuous maiden to be found +in the country, and she became Cuchulain’s chosen +bride. Gallant was his wooing, and merry and jesting +were her answers to his suit, for though Emer loved +Cuchulain at first sight she would not accept him at +once, and long they talked together. Finally Emer +consented to wed Cuchulain when he had undergone +certain trials and adventures for a year, and had accomplished +certain feats, a test which she imposed on her +lover, partly as a trial of his worthiness and constancy +and partly to satisfy her father Forgall, who would not +agree to the marriage. When Cuchulain returned +triumphant at the end of the year, he rescued Emer +from the confinement in which her father had placed +her, and won her at the sword’s point; they were +wedded, and dwelt at Armagh, the capital of Ulster, +under the protection of King Conor.</p> + + +<h3>Bricriu’s Feast</h3> + +<p>It happened that at Conor’s court was one chief who +delighted in making mischief, as Thersites among the +Grecian leaders. This man, Bricriu of the Bitter +Tongue, came to King Conor and invited him and all +the heroes of the Red Branch, the royal bodyguard of +Ulster, to a feast at his new dwelling, for he felt sure +he could find some occasion to stir up strife at a feast. +King Conor, however, and the Red Branch heroes, distrusted +Bricriu so much that they refused to accept +the invitation, unless Bricriu would give sureties that, +having received his guests, he would leave the hall +before the feasting began. Bricriu, who had expected +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +some such condition, readily agreed, and before going +home to prepare his feast took measures for stirring up +strife among the heroes of Ulster.</p> + + +<h3>Bricriu’s Falsehood</h3> + +<p>Before Bricriu left Armagh he went to the mighty +Laegaire and with many words of praise said: “All +good be with you, O Laegaire, winner of battles! +Why should you not be Champion of Ireland for ever?”</p> + +<p>“I can be, if I will,” said Laegaire.</p> + +<p>“Follow my advice, and you shall be head of all the +champions of Ireland,” said cunning Bricriu.</p> + +<p>“What is your counsel?” asked Laegaire.</p> + +<p>“King Conor is coming to a feast in my house,” said +Bricriu, “and the Champion’s Bit will be a splendid +portion for any hero. That warrior who obtains it at +this feast will be acclaimed Chief Champion of Erin. +When the banquet begins do you bid your chariot-driver +rise and claim the hero’s portion for you, for +you are indeed worthy of it, and I hope that you may +get what you so well deserve!”</p> + +<p>“Some men shall die if my right is taken from me,” +quoth Laegaire; but Bricriu only laughed and turned +away.</p> + + +<h3>Bricriu Meets Conall Cearnach</h3> + +<p>Bricriu next met Conall Cearnach, Cuchulain’s cousin, +one of the chiefs of the Red Branch.</p> + +<p>“May all good be with you, Conall the Victorious,” +quoth he. “You are our defence and shield, and no foe +dare face you in battle. Why should you not be Chief +Champion of Ulster?”</p> + +<p>“It only depends on my will,” said Conall; and then +Bricriu continued his flattery and insidious suggestions +until he had stirred up Conall to command his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +charioteer to claim the Champion’s Portion at Bricriu’s +feast. Very joyous was Bricriu, and very evilly he +smiled as he turned away when he had roused the +ambition of Conall Cearnach, for he revelled in the +prospect of coming strife.</p> + + +<h3>Bricriu Meets Cuchulain</h3> + +<p>“May all good be with you, Cuchulain,” said Bricriu, +as he met the youthful hero. “You are the chief +defence of Erin, our bulwark against the foe, our joy +and darling, the hero of Ulster, the favourite of all the +maidens of Ireland, the greatest warrior of our land! +We all live in safety under the protection of your +mighty hand, so why should you not be the Chief +Champion of Ulster? Why will you leave the Hero’s +Portion to some less worthy warrior?”</p> + +<p>“By the god of my people, I will have it, or slay +any bold man who dares to deprive me of it,” said +Cuchulain.</p> + +<p>Thereupon Bricriu left Cuchulain and travelled to his +home, where he made his preparations for receiving the +king, as if nothing were further from his thoughts than +mischief-making and guile.</p> + + +<h3>The Feast and the Quarrel</h3> + +<p>When King Conor and his court had entered +Bricriu’s house at Dundrum, and were sitting at the +feast, Bricriu was forced by his sureties to leave the hall, +for men feared his malicious tongue, and as he went to +his watch-tower he turned and cried:</p> + +<p>“The Champion’s Portion at my feast is worth +having; let it be given to the best hero in Ulster.”</p> + +<p>The carving and distribution of the viands began, and +when the Champion’s Portion was brought forward it +was claimed by three chariot-drivers, Laegaire’s, Conall’s, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +and Cuchulain’s, each on behalf of his master; and +when no decision was made by King Conor the three +heroes claimed it, each for himself. But Laegaire and +Conall united in defying Cuchulain and ridiculing his +claim, and a great fight began in the hall, till all men +shook for fear; and at last King Conor intervened, +before any man had been wounded.</p> + +<p>“Put up your swords,” he said. “The Champion’s +Portion at this feast shall be divided among the three, +and we will ask King Ailill and Queen Meave of Connaught +to say who is the greatest champion.” This +plan pleased every one but Bricriu, who saw his hopes +of fomenting strife disappear.</p> + + +<h3>The Women’s Quarrel</h3> + +<p>Just at that moment the women rose and quitted +the hall to breathe the fresh air, and Bricriu spied his +opportunity. Going down from his watch-tower, he +met Fedelm, the wife of Laegaire, with her fifty +maidens, and said to her:</p> + +<p>“All good be with you to-night, Fedelm of the +Fresh Heart! Truly in beauty, in birth, in dignity, +no woman in Ulster is your equal. If you enter my +hall first to-night, you will be queen of the Ulster +women.”</p> + +<p>Fedelm walked on merrily enough, but determined +that she would soon re-enter the hall, and certainly before +any other woman. Bricriu next met Lendabair the +Favourite, Conall’s wife, and gave her similar flattery +and a similar prophecy, and Lendabair also determined +to be first back at the house and first to enter the hall.</p> + +<p>Then Bricriu waited till he saw Emer, Cuchulain’s +fair wife. “Health be with you, Emer, wife of the +best man in Ireland! As the sun outshines the stars, +so do you outshine all other women! You should +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +of right enter the house first, for whoever does so will +be queen of the women of Ulster, and none has a better +claim to be their queen than Cuchulain’s wife, Forgall’s +fair daughter.”</p> + + +<h3>The Husbands Intervene</h3> + +<p>The three fair women, each with her train of fifty +maidens, watched one another carefully, and when one +turned back towards the house the others accompanied +her, step for step; and the noise of their returning +footsteps as they raced along alarmed their husbands. +Sencha, the king’s wise counsellor, reassured them, saying, +“It is only a woman’s quarrel; Bricriu has stirred +up enmity among the wives of the heroes”; and as he +spoke Emer reached the hall, having suddenly outrun +the others; but the doors were shut. Then followed +bitter complaints from Fedelm and Lendabair, both +united against Emer, as their husbands had been against +Cuchulain. Again King Conor was forced to call for +silence, since each hero was supporting his own wife’s +claims to be queen of the Ulster women. The strife +was only calmed by the promise that the claim to the +highest place should be settled by Ailill and Meave of +Connaught, who would be impartial judges.</p> + + +<h3>The Heroes Journey to Connaught</h3> + +<p>Bricriu’s feast lasted for three days longer, and then +King Conor and the Red Branch heroes returned to +Armagh. There the dispute about the Championship +began again, and Conor sent the heroes to Cruachan, in +Connaught, to obtain a judgment from King Ailill. +“If he does not decide, go to Curoi of Munster, who +is a just and wise man, and will find out the best hero +by wizardry and enchantments.” When Conor had +decided thus, Laegaire and Conall, after some disputation +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +as to who should start first, had their chariots +got ready and drove towards Cruachan, but Cuchulain +stayed amusing himself and the women in Armagh. +When his chariot-driver reproached him with losing +the Champion’s Portion through laziness Cuchulain +replied: “I never thought about it, but there is still +time to win it. Yoke my steeds to the chariot.” By this +time, however, the other two heroes were far, very far, +in advance, with the chief men of Ulster following +them.</p> + + +<h3>Cuchulain’s Steeds</h3> + +<p>Cuchulain had quite lately won two mighty magic +steeds, which arose from two lonely lakes—the Grey +of Macha, his best-beloved horse, and the Black Sainglain. +The struggle between the hero and these magic +steeds had been terrible before he had been able to +tame them and reduce them to submission; now he +had them yoked to his chariot, and when he had once +started he soon came up with the other two heroes, and +all three drove furiously towards Cruachan, with all the +warriors of Ulster behind them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 405px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr27.jpg" width="405" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_190" id="image_page_190"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“All three drove furiously towards Cruachan”</p> + + +<h3>Queen Meave Watches the Heroes</h3> + +<p>The noise of the advancing war-chariots reached +Queen Meave at Cruachan, and she wondered greatly +to hear thunder from a clear sky; but her fair daughter, +looking from her window, said: “Mother, I see chariots +coming.”</p> + +<p>“Who comes in the first?” asked Queen Meave.</p> + +<p>“I see a big stout man, with reddish gold hair and +long forked beard, dressed in purple with gold adornments; +and his shield is bronze edged with gold; he +bears a javelin in his hand.”</p> + +<p>“That man I know well,” answered her mother. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +“He is mighty Laegaire, the Storm of War, the Knife of +Victory; he will slay us all, unless he comes in peace.”</p> + +<p>“I see another chariot,” quoth the princess, “bearing +a fair man with long wavy hair, a man of clear red and +white complexion, wearing a white vest and a cloak +of blue and crimson. His shield is brown, with yellow +bosses and a bronze edge.”</p> + +<p>“That is valiant Conall the Victorious,” quoth +Meave. “Small chance shall we have if he comes in +anger.”</p> + +<p>“Yet a third chariot comes, wherein stands a dark, +sad youth, most handsome of all the men of Erin; he +wears a crimson tunic, brooched with gold, a long white +linen cloak, and a white, gold-embroidered hood. His +hair is black, his look draws love, his glance shoots fire, +and the hero-light gleams around him. His shield is +crimson, with a silver rim, and images of beasts shine on +it in gold.”</p> + + +<h3>Terror in Connaught</h3> + +<p>“Alas! that is the hero Cuchulain,” said Meave. +“He is more to be feared than all others. His voice +in anger tells the doom of men; his wrath is fatal. +Truly we are but dead if we have aroused Cuchulain’s +wrath.” After a pause: “Tell me, daughter, are there +yet other chariots?”</p> + +<p>“The men of Ulster follow in chariots so numerous +that the earth quakes beneath them, and their sound is +as thunder, or the dashing waves of the sea.”</p> + +<p>Now Queen Meave was terrified in good earnest, but +hoped by a hearty welcome to turn aside the wrath of +the heroes of Ulster; thus when they arrived at the +dun of Cruachan they found the best of receptions, and +all the Red Branch warriors were feasted for three days +and nights.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Conor Explains the Matter</h3> + +<p>After three days Ailill of Connaught asked their +business, and King Conor related to him everything as +it had occurred—the feast, the dispute for the Champion’s +Portion, the women’s quarrel, and the decision +to be judged by King Ailill. This angered Ailill, who +was a peaceable man.</p> + +<p>“It was no friend of mine who referred you to me, +for I shall surely incur the hatred of two heroes,” +quoth he.</p> + +<p>“You are the best judge of all,” replied King Conor.</p> + +<p>“Then I must have time—three days and nights—to +decide,” said Ailill.</p> + +<p>“We can spare our heroes so long,” quoth Conor, and +therewith the Ulster men returned to Armagh, leaving +the three claimants to the Championship at Cruachan.</p> + + +<h3>The First Test</h3> + +<p>That night Ailill put them to an unexpected test. +Their feast was served to them in a separate room, and +the king went to his protectors, the Fairy People of +the Hills, in the Good People’s Hill at Cruachan, and +begged some help in his judgment. They willingly +aided him, and three magic beasts, in the shape of +monstrous cats, were let into the room where the +heroes feasted. When they saw them Laegaire and +Conall rose up from their meal, clambered up among +the rafters, and stayed there all night. Cuchulain waited +till one attacked him, and then drawing his sword, struck +the monster. It showed no further sign of fight, and +Cuchulain kept watch all night, till the magic beasts +disappeared at daybreak. When Ailill came into the +room and saw the heroes as they had spent the night +he laughed as he said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +“Are you not content to yield the Championship to +Cuchulain?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr28.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_192" id="image_page_192"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Three monstrous cats were let into the room”</p> + +<p>“Indeed no,” said Conall and Laegaire. “We are used +to fighting men, not monstrous beasts.”</p> + + +<h3>The Second Test</h3> + +<p>The next day King Ailill sent the heroes to his own +foster-father, Ercol, to spend a night with him, that he +also might test them. When they arrived, and had +feasted, Laegaire was sent out that night to fight the +witches of the valley. Fierce and terrible were these +witches, and they beat Laegaire, and took his arms and +armour.</p> + +<p>When Conall went to fight them the witches beat +him and took his spear, but he kept his sword and +brought it back with honour. Cuchulain, who was the +youngest, went last, and he too was being beaten, +when the taunts of his chariot-driver, who was watching, +aroused him, and he beat the witches, and bore off in +triumph their cloaks of battle. Yet even after this +the other two heroes would not acknowledge Cuchulain’s +superiority.</p> + + +<h3>Ercol’s Defeat</h3> + +<p>The next day Ercol fought with each champion +separately, and conquered both Laegaire and Conall, +terrifying the former so much that he fled to Cruachan +and told Meave and Ailill that Ercol had killed the +other two. When Cuchulain arrived victorious, with +Ercol tied captive at his chariot-wheels, he found all +men mourning for him and Conall as for the dead.</p> + + +<h3>Meave’s Plan to Avoid Strife in Cruachan</h3> + +<p>Now indeed Ailill was in great perplexity, for he +durst not delay his decision, and he dreaded the wrath +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +of the two disappointed heroes. He and Queen Meave +consulted long together, and at length Meave promised +to relieve him of the responsibility of judgment. +Summoning Laegaire to the king’s room, she said:</p> + +<p>“Welcome, O Laegaire! You are greatest of the +warriors of Ulster. To you we give the headship of +the heroes of Ireland and the Champion’s Portion, and +to your wife the right to walk first of all the women of +Ulster. In token thereof we give you this cup of +bronze with a silver bird embossed, to be seen by no +man till you be come to King Conor in the Red Branch +House at Armagh. Then show your cup and claim +your right, and none will dispute it with you.”</p> + +<p>So Laegaire went away well pleased, and they sent +for Conall. To him they gave a silver cup, with a bird +embossed in gold, and to him they pretended to adjudge +the Championship, and Conall left them well content.</p> + +<p>Cuchulain, who was playing chess, refused to attend +the King of Connaught when he was summoned, and +Queen Meave had to entreat him to come to their +private room. There they gave him a golden cup, +with a bird designed in precious gems, with many +words of flattery for Cuchulain and his fair and noble +wife, Emer.</p> + + +<h3>The Return of the Champions</h3> + +<p>Now the heroes, each well content, bade farewell to +the court at Cruachan, and drove back to Armagh, but +none durst ask how they had sped. That evening, +at the banquet, when the Champion’s Portion was set +aside, Laegaire arose and claimed it, showing as proof +that his claim was just the bronze cup he brought from +Queen Meave.</p> + +<p>But alas! Conall the Victorious had a silver cup, and +while he was exulting in this proof of his rightful claim +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +to the championship Cuchulain produced his golden +cup, and the dispute began all over again. King Conor +would have allowed Cuchulain’s claim, but Laegaire +vowed that his rival had bribed Ailill and Meave with +great treasures to give him the golden cup, and neither +Laegaire nor Conall would yield him the victory or +accept the judgment as final. “Then you must go to +Curoi,” said the king, and to that they all agreed.</p> + + +<h3>The Champions Visit Curoi</h3> + +<p>The next day the three champions drove to Kerry +where Curoi dwelt in a magic dun. He was away from +home planning enchantments to test them, for he knew +they were coming, but his wife welcomed them, and +bade them watch the dun for one night each, beginning +with Laegaire, as the eldest. Laegaire took up +his sentinel’s post outside the dun, and Curoi’s wife +worked the charm which prevented entrance after nightfall. +The night was long and silent, and Laegaire +thought he would have a quiet watch, when he saw a +great shadow arise from the sea.</p> + + +<h3>The Giant Fights Laegaire and Conall</h3> + +<p>This shadow took the shape of a huge giant, whose +spears were mighty branch-stripped oaks, which he +hurled at Laegaire. They did not touch him, however, +and Laegaire made some show of fight; but the giant +took him up, squeezed him so tightly as nearly to slay +him, and then threw him over the magic wall of the dun, +where the others found him lying half dead. All men +thought that he had sprung with a mighty leap over +the wall, since no other entrance was to be found, and +Laegaire kept silence and did not explain to them.</p> + +<p>Conall, who took the watch the second night, fared +exactly as Laegaire had done, and likewise did not +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +confess how he had been thrown over the wall of the +dun, nor what became of the giant in the dawn.</p> + + +<h3>Cuchulain’s Trials</h3> + +<p>The third night was Cuchulain’s watch, and he took his +post outside the dun, and the gates and wall were secured +by magic spells, so that none could enter. Vainly he +watched till midnight, and then he thought he saw nine +grey shadowy forms creeping towards him.</p> + +<p>“Who goes there?” he cried. “If you be friends, +stop; if foes, come on!” Then the nine shadowy foes +raised a shout, and fell upon the hero; but he fought +hard and slew them, and beheaded them. A second +and a third time similar groups of vague, shadowy foemen +rushed at him, and he slew them all in like manner, +and then, wearied out, sat down to rest.</p> + + +<h3>The Dragon</h3> + +<p>Later on in the night, as he was still watching, he +heard a heavy sound, like waves surging in the lake, and +when he roused himself to see what it was he beheld a +monstrous dragon. It was rising from the water and flying +towards the dun, and seemed ready to devour everything +in its way. When the dragon perceived him it +soared swiftly into the air, and then gradually sank +towards him, opening its terrible jaws. Cuchulain +sprang up, giving his wonderful hero-leap, and thrust +his arm into the dragon’s mouth and down its throat; +he found its heart, tore it out, and saw the monster fall +dead on the ground. He then cut off its scaly head, +which he added to those of his former enemies.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr29.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_196" id="image_page_196"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“The dragon sank towards him, opening its terrible jaws”</p> + + +<h3>The Giant Worsted by Cuchulain</h3> + +<p>Towards daybreak, when feeling quite worn out +and very sleepy, he became slowly aware of a great +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +shadow coming to him westward from the sea. The +shadow, as before, became a giant, who greeted him +in a surly tone with, “This is a bad night.” “It will +be worse yet for you,” said Cuchulain. The giant, as +he had done with the other heroes, threw oaks, but just +missed him; and when he tried to grapple with him +the hero leaped up with drawn sword. In his anger +the hero-light shone round him, and he sprang as high +as the giant’s head, and gave him a stroke that brought +him to his knees. “Life for life, Cuchulain,” said the +giant, and vanished at once, leaving no trace.</p> + + +<h3>Cuchulain Re-enters the Dun</h3> + +<p>Now Cuchulain would gladly have returned to the +fort to rest, but there seemed no way of entrance, and +the hero was vexed at his own helplessness, for he +thought his comrades had jumped over the magic walls. +Twice he boldly essayed to leap the lofty wall, and +twice he failed; then in his wrath his great strength +came upon him, the hero-light shone round him, and +he took a little run and, leaning on his spear, leaped so +high and so far that he alighted in the middle of the +court, just before the door of the hall.</p> + +<p>As he sighed heavily and wearily, Curoi’s wife said: +“That is the sigh of a weary conqueror, not of a beaten +man”; and Cuchulain went in and sat down to rest.</p> + + +<h3>The Decision</h3> + +<p>The next morning Curoi’s wife asked the champions: +“Are you content that the Championship should go to +Cuchulain? I know by my magic skill what he has +endured in the past night, and you must see that you +are not equal to him.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, that we will not allow,” quoth they. “It +was one of Cuchulain’s friends among the People of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +the Hills who came to conquer us and to give him the +Championship. We are not content, and we will not +give up our claim, for the fight was not fair.”</p> + +<p>“Go home now to Armagh, is Curoi’s word, and wait +there until he himself brings his decision,” said Curoi’s +wife. So they bade her farewell, and went back to the +Red Branch House in Armagh, with the dispute still +unsettled; but they agreed to await peaceably Curoi’s +decision, and abide by it when he should bring it.</p> + + +<h3>Uath, the Stranger</h3> + +<p>Some time after this, when Curoi had made no sign +of giving judgment, it happened that all the Ulster +heroes were in their places in the Red Branch House, +except Cuchulain and his cousin Conall. As they sat +in order of rank in the hall they saw a terrible stranger +coming into the room. He was gigantic in stature, +hideous of aspect, with ravening yellow eyes. He wore +a skin roughly sewn together, and a grey cloak over it, +and he sheltered himself from the light with a spreading +tree torn up by the roots. In his hand he bore an +enormous axe, with keen and shining edge. This hideous +apparition strode up the hall and leant against a carved +pillar beside the fire.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” asked one chieftain in sport. +“Are you come to be our candlestick, or would you +burn the house down? Is this the place for such as +you? Go farther down the hall!”</p> + +<p>“My name is Uath, the Stranger, and for neither of +those things am I come. I seek that which I cannot +find in the whole world, and that is a man to keep the +agreement he makes with me.”</p> + + +<h3>The Agreement</h3> + +<p>“What is the agreement?” asked King Conor.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +“Behold my axe!” quoth the stranger. “The man +who will grasp it to-day may cut my head off with it, +provided that I may, in like manner, cut off his head +to-morrow. Now you men of Ulster, heroes of the +Red Branch, have won the palm through the wide world +for courage, honour, strength, truth, and generosity; +do you, therefore, find me a man to keep this agreement. +King Conor is excepted, because of his royal +dignity, but no other. And if you have no champion +who dare face me, I will say that Ulster has lost her +courage and is dishonoured.”</p> + +<p>“It is not right for a whole province to be disgraced +for lack of a man to keep his word,” said King Conor, +“but I fear we have no such champions here.”</p> + + +<h3>Laegaire Accepts the Challenge</h3> + +<p>“By my word,” said Laegaire, who had listened +attentively to the whole conversation, “there will be +a champion this very moment. Stoop down, fellow, +and let me cut off your head, that you may take mine +to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>Then Uath chanted magic spells over the axe as he +stroked the edge, and laid his neck on a block, and +Laegaire hewed so hard that the axe severed the head +from the body and struck deep into the block. Then +the body of Uath arose, took up the head and the axe, +and strode away down the hall, all people shrinking out +of its way, and so it passed out into the night.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr30.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_200" id="image_page_200"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“The body of Uath arose”</p> + +<p>“If this terrible stranger returns to-morrow he will +slay us all,” they whispered, as they looked pityingly at +Laegaire, who was trying in vain to show no signs of +apprehension.</p> + + +<h3>Laegaire and Conall Disgraced</h3> + +<p>When the next evening came, and men sat in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +Red Branch House, talking little and waiting for what +would happen, in came Uath, the Stranger, as well +and sound as before the terrible blow, bearing his axe, +and eager to return the stroke. Alas! Laegaire’s heart +had failed him and he did not come, and the stranger +jeered at the men of Ulster because their great champion +durst not keep his agreement, nor face the blow +he should receive in return for one he gave.</p> + +<p>The men of Ulster were utterly ashamed, but Conall +Cearnach, the Victorious, was present that night, and he +made a new agreement with Uath. Conall gave a blow +which beheaded Uath, but again, when the stranger +returned whole and sound on the following evening, the +champion was not to be found: Conall would not face +the blow.</p> + + +<h3>Cuchulain Accepts the Challenge</h3> + +<p>When Uath found that a second hero of Ulster had +failed him he again taunted them all with cowardice and +promise-breaking.</p> + +<p>“What! is there not one man of courage among you +Ulstermen? You would fain have a great name, but +have no courage to earn it! Great heroes are you all! +Not one among you has bravery enough to face me! +Where is that childish youth Cuchulain! A poor +miserable fellow he is, but I would like to see if his +word is better to be relied on than the word of these +two great heroes.”</p> + +<p>“A youth I may be,” said Cuchulain, “but I will +keep my word without any agreement.”</p> + +<p>Uath laughed aloud. “Yes! that is likely, is it not? +And you with so great a fear of death!”</p> + +<p>Thereupon the youth leapt up, caught the deadly +axe, and severed the giant’s head as he stood with one +stroke.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Cuchulain Stands the Test</h3> + +<p>The next day the Red Branch heroes watched Cuchulain +to see what he would do. They would not have +been surprised if he had failed like the others, who now +were present. The champion, however, showed no signs +of failing or retreat. He sat sorrowfully in his place +waiting for the certain death that must come, and regretting +his rashness, but with no thought of breaking +his word.</p> + +<p>With a sigh he said to King Conor as they waited: +“Do not leave this place till all is over. Death is +coming to me very surely, but I must fulfil my agreement, +for I would rather die than break my word.”</p> + +<p>Towards the close of day Uath strode into the hall +exultant.</p> + +<p>“Where is Cuchulain?” he cried.</p> + +<p>“Here I am,” was the reply.</p> + +<p>“Ah, poor boy! your speech is sad to-night, and +the fear of death lies heavy on you; but at least you +have redeemed your word and have not failed me.”</p> + +<p>The youth rose from his seat and went towards Uath, +as he stood with the great axe ready, and knelt to +receive the blow.</p> + + +<h3>Curoi’s Decision and Cuchulain’s Victory</h3> + +<p>The hero of Ulster laid his head on the block; +but Uath was not satisfied. “Stretch out your neck +better,” said he.</p> + +<p>“You are playing with me, to torment me,” said +Cuchulain. “Slay me now speedily, for I did not keep +you waiting last night.”</p> + +<p>However, he stretched out his neck as Uath bade, and +the stranger raised his axe till it crashed upwards through +the rafters of the hall, like the crash of trees falling in a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +storm. When the axe came down with a terrific sound +all men looked fearfully at Cuchulain. The descending +axe had not even touched him; it had come down with +the blunt side on the ground, and the youth knelt there +unharmed. Smiling at him, and leaning on his axe, +stood no terrible and hideous stranger, but Curoi of +Kerry, come to give his decision at last.</p> + +<p>“Rise up, Cuchulain,” said Curoi. “There is none +among all the heroes of Ulster to equal you in courage +and loyalty and truth. The Championship of the +Heroes of Ireland is yours from this day forth, and the +Champion’s Portion at all feasts; and to your wife I +adjudge the first place among all the women of Ulster. +Woe to him who dares to dispute this decision!” +Thereupon Curoi vanished, and the Red Branch warriors +gathered around Cuchulain, and all with one voice +acclaimed him the Champion of the Heroes of all Ireland—a +title which has clung to him until this day.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER X: THE TALE OF +GAMELYN</h2> + + +<h3>The “Wicked Brothers” Theme</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE tale of “Gamelyn” is a variant of the old +fairy-tale subject of the Wicked Elder Brothers, +one of the oldest and most interesting versions of +which may still be read in the Biblical story of Joseph and +his brethren. Usually a father dies leaving three sons, +of whom the two elder are worthless and the youngest +rises to high honour, whereupon the elder brothers try +to kill the youngest from envy at his good fortune. A +similar root-idea is found in “Cinderella” and other +fairy-tales of girls, but in these there may usually be +found a cruel stepmother and two contemptuous stepsisters—a +noteworthy variation which seems to point to +some deep-rooted idea that the ties of blood are stronger +among women than among men.</p> + + +<h3>Literary Influence of the “Gamelyn” Story</h3> + +<p>The story of “Gamelyn” has two great claims to our +attention: it is, through Lodge’s “Euphues’ Golden +Legacy,” the ultimate source of Shakespeare’s <i>As You +Like It</i>, and it seems to be the earliest presentment in +English literature of the figure of “the noble outlaw.” +In fact, Gamelyn is probably the literary ancestor of +“bold Robin Hood,” and stands for an English +ideal of justice and equity, against legal oppression and +wickedness in high places. He shows, too, the love of +free life, of the merry greenwood and the open road, +which reappears after so many centuries in the work of +Robert Louis Stevenson.</p> + + +<h3>The Story</h3> + +<p>In the reign of King Edward I. there dwelt in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +Lincolnshire, near the vast expanse of the Fens, a noble +gentleman, Sir John of the Marches. He was now old, +but was still a model of all courtesy and a “very perfect +gentle knight.” He had three sons, of whom the +youngest, Gamelyn, was born in his father’s old age, and +was greatly beloved by the old man; the other two were +much older than he, and John, the eldest, had already +developed a vicious and malignant character. Gamelyn +and his second brother, Otho, reverenced their father, +but John had no respect or obedience for the good +gentleman, and was the chief trouble of his declining +years, as Gamelyn was his chief joy.</p> + + +<h3>The Father Feels his End Approaching</h3> + +<p>At last old age and weakness overcame the worthy +old Sir John, and he was forced to take to his bed, +where he lay sadly meditating on his children’s future, +and wondering how to divide his possessions justly +among the three. There was no difficulty of inheritance +or primogeniture, for all the knight’s lands were held in +fee-simple, and not in entail, so that he might bequeath +them as he would. Sir John of the Marches, fearing +lest he should commit an injustice, sent throughout the +district for wise knights, begging them to come hastily, +if they wished to see him alive, and help him. When +the country squires and lords, his near neighbours, +heard of his grave condition, they hurried to the castle, +and gathered in the bedchamber, where the dying knight +greeted them thus: “Lords and gentlemen, I warn +you in truth that I may no longer live; by the will of +God death lays his hand upon me.” When they heard +this they tried to encourage him, by bidding him +remember that God can provide a remedy for every +disease, and the good knight received their kindly words +without dispute. “That God can send remedy for an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +ill I will never deny; but I beseech you, for my sake, +to divide my lands among my three sons. For the +love of God deal justly, and forget not my youngest, +Gamelyn. Seldom does any heir to an estate help his +brothers after his father’s death.”</p> + + +<h3>How Shall he Dispose of his Estate?</h3> + +<p>The friends whom Sir John had summoned deliberated +long over the disposal of the estate. The majority +wished to give all to the eldest son, but a strong +minority urged the claims of the second, but all agreed +that Gamelyn might wait till his eldest brother chose to +give him a share of his father’s lands. At last it was +decided to divide the inheritance between the two elder +sons, and the knights returned to the chamber where +the brave old knight lay dying, and told him their +decision. He summoned up strength enough to protest +against their plan of distribution, and said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Nay, by St. Martin, I can yet bequeath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lands to whom I wish: they still are mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then hearken, neighbours, while I make my will.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To John, my eldest son, and heir, I leave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Five ploughlands, my dead father’s heritage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My second, Otho, ploughlands five shall hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which my good right hand won in valiant strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All else I own, in lands and goods and wealth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Gamelyn, my youngest, I devise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I beseech you, for the love of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsake him not, but guard his helpless youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let him not be plundered of his wealth.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Then Sir John, satisfied with having proclaimed his +will, died with Christian resignation, leaving his little +son Gamelyn in the power of the cruel eldest brother, +now, in his turn, Sir John.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<h3>The Cruel Eldest Son</h3> + +<p>Since the boy was a minor, the new knight, as +natural guardian, assumed the control of Gamelyn’s +land, vassals, education, and nurture; and full evilly he +discharged his duties, for he clothed and fed him badly, +and neglected his lands, so that his parks and houses, +his farms and villages, fell into ruinous decay. The boy, +when he grew older, noticed this and resented it, but +did not realize the power in his own broad limbs and +mighty sinews to redress his wrongs, though by the +time he fully understood his injuries no man would +dare to face him in fight when he was angry, so strong +a youth had he become.</p> + + +<h3>Gamelyn Resists</h3> + +<p>While Gamelyn, one day, walking in the hall, mused +on the ruin of all his inheritance, Sir John came blustering +in, and, seeing him, called out: “How now: is +dinner ready?” Enraged at being addressed as if he +were a mere servant, he replied angrily: “Go and do +your own baking; I am not your cook.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr31.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_206" id="image_page_206"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Go and do your own baking!”</p> + +<p>Sir John almost doubted the evidence of his ears. +“What, my dear brother, is that the way to answer? +Thou hast never addressed me so before!”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied Gamelyn; “until now I have never +considered all the wrong you have done me. My parks +are broken open, my deer are driven off; you have +deprived me of my armour and my steeds; all that my +father bequeathed to me is falling into ruin and decay. +God’s curse upon you, false brother!”</p> + +<p>Sir John was now enraged beyond all measure, and +shouted: “Stand still, vagabond, and hold thy peace! +What right hast thou to speak of land or vassals? Thou +shalt learn to be grateful for food and raiment.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +“A curse upon him that calls me vagabond! I am +no worse than yourself; I am the son of a lady and a +good knight.”</p> + + +<h3>Gamelyn Terrifies the Household</h3> + +<p>In spite of all his anger, Sir John was a cautious man, +with a prudent regard for his own safety. He would +not risk an encounter with Gamelyn, but summoned +his servants and bade them beat him well, till he should +learn better manners. But when the boy understood +his brother’s intention he vowed that he would not be +beaten alone—others should suffer too, and Sir John +not the least. Thereupon, leaping on to the wall, he +seized a pestle which lay there, and so boldly attacked +the timid servants, though they were armed with staves, +that he drove them in flight, and laid on furious strokes +which quenched the small spark of courage in them. +Sir John had not even that small amount of bravery: +he fled to a loft and barred the door, while Gamelyn +cleared the hall with his pestle, and scoffed at the +cowardly grooms who fled so soon from the strife they +had begun. When he sought for his brother he could +not see him at first, but afterwards perceived his sorry +countenance peeping from a window. “Brother,” said +Gamelyn, “come a little nearer, and I will teach you +how to play with staff and buckler.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, by St. Richard, I will not descend till thou +hast put down that pestle. Brother, be no more +enraged, and I will make peace with thee. I swear it +by the grace of God!”</p> + +<p>“I was forced to defend myself,” said Gamelyn, +“or your menials would have injured and degraded +me: I could not let grooms beat a good knight’s +son; but now grant me one boon, and we shall soon +be reconciled.”</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Sir John’s Guile</h3> + +<p>“Yes, certainly, brother; ask thy boon, and I will +grant it readily. But indeed I was only testing thee, +for thou art so young that I doubted thy strength and +manliness. It was only a pretence of beating that I +meant.”</p> + +<p>“This is my request,” said the boy: “if there is +to be peace between us you must surrender to me all +that my father bequeathed me while he was alive.”</p> + +<p>To this Sir John consented with apparent willingness, +and even promised to repair the decayed mansions +and restore the lands and farms to their former prosperity; +but though he feigned content with the agreement +and kissed his brother with outward affection +yet he was inwardly meditating plans of treachery +against the unsuspecting youth.</p> + + +<h3>A Wrestling Match</h3> + +<p>Shortly after this quarrel between the brothers a +wrestling competition was announced, the winner of +which would become the owner of a fine ram and a ring +of gold, and Gamelyn determined to try his powers. +Accordingly he begged the loan of “a little courser” +from Sir John, who offered him his choice of all the +steeds in the stable, and then curiously questioned +him as to his errand. The lad explained that he +wished to compete in the wrestling match, hoping to +win honour by bearing away the prize; then, springing +on the beautiful courser that was brought him ready +saddled, he spurred his horse and rode away merrily, +while the false Sir John locked the gate behind him, +praying that he might get his neck broken in the +contest. The boy rode along, rejoicing in his youth +and strength, singing as he went, till he drew near the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +appointed place, and then he suddenly heard a man’s +voice lamenting aloud and crying, “Wellaway! Alas!” +and saw a venerable yeoman wringing his hands. +“Good man,” said Gamelyn, “why art thou in such +distress? Can no man help thee?”</p> + + +<h3>A Dreaded Champion</h3> + +<p>“Alas!” said the yeoman. “Woe to the day on +which I was born! The champion wrestler here has +overthrown my two stalwart sons, and unless God +help them they must die of their grievous hurts. I +would give ten pounds to find a man to avenge on +him the injuries done to my dear sons.”</p> + +<p>“Good man, hold my horse while my groom takes +my coat and shoes, and I will try my luck and strength +against this doughty champion.”</p> + +<p>“Thank God!” said the yeoman. “I will do it at +once; I will guard thy coat and shoes and good steed +safely—and may Jesus Christ speed thee well!”</p> + + +<h3>Gamelyn Enters</h3> + +<p>When Gamelyn entered the ring, barefooted and +stripped for wrestling, all men gazed curiously at the +rash youth who dared to challenge the stalwart champion, +and the great man himself, rising from the ground, +strolled across to meet Gamelyn and said haughtily: +“Who is thy father, and what is thy name? Thou +art, forsooth, a young fool to come here!”</p> + +<p>Gamelyn answered equally haughtily: “Thou +knewest well my father while he lived: he was Sir +John of the Marches, and I am his youngest son, +Gamelyn.”</p> + +<p>The champion replied: “Boy, I knew thy father +well in his lifetime, and I have heard of thee, and +nothing good: thou hast always been in mischief.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +“Now I am older thou shalt know me better,” said +Gamelyn.</p> + + +<h3>Defeats the Champion</h3> + +<p>The wrestling had lasted till late in the evening, and +the moon was shining on the scene when Gamelyn and +the champion began their struggle. The wrestler tried +many wily tricks, but the boy was ready for them all, +and stood steady against all that his opponent could do. +Then, in his turn, he took the offensive, grasped his +adversary round the waist, and cast him so heavily to +the ground that three ribs were broken, and his left +arm. Then the victor said mockingly:</p> + +<p>“Shall we count that a cast, or not reckon it?”</p> + +<p>“By heaven! whether it be one or no, any man in thy +hand will never thrive,” said the champion painfully.</p> + +<p>The yeoman, who had watched the match with great +anxiety, now broke out with blessings: “Blessed be +thou, young sir, that ever thou wert born!” and now +taunting the fallen champion, said: “It was young +‘Mischief’ who taught thee this game.”</p> + +<p>“He is master of us all,” said the champion. “In +all my years of wrestling I have never been mishandled +so cruelly.”</p> + +<p>Now the victor stood in the ring, ready for more +wrestling, but no man would venture to compete with +him, and the two judges who kept order and awarded +the prizes bade him retire, for no other competitor +could be found to face him.</p> + +<p>But he was a little disappointed at this easy victory. +“Is the fair over? Why, I have not half sold my +wares,” he said.</p> + +<p>The champion was still capable of grim jesting. +“Now, as I value my life, any purchaser of your wares +is a fool; you sell so dearly.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> +“Not at all,” broke in the yeoman; “you have bought +your share full cheap, and made a good bargain.”</p> + + +<h3>He Wins the Prizes</h3> + +<p>While this short conversation had been going on the +judges had returned to their seats, and formally awarded +the prize to Gamelyn, and now came to him, bearing +the ram and the ring for his acceptance.</p> + +<p>Gamelyn took them gladly, and went home the next +morning, followed by a cheering crowd of admirers; +but when the cowardly Sir John saw the people he +bolted the castle doors against his more favourite and +successful brother.</p> + + +<h3>He Overcomes his Brother’s Servants</h3> + +<p>The porter, obeying his master’s commands, refused +Gamelyn entrance; and the youth, enraged at this +insult, broke down the door with one blow, caught the +fleeing porter, and flung him down the well in the +courtyard. His brother’s servants fled from his anger, +and the crowd that had accompanied him swarmed +into courtyard and hall, while the knight took refuge in +a little turret.</p> + +<p>“Welcome to you all,” said Gamelyn. “We will be +masters here and ask no man’s leave. Yesterday I left +five tuns of wine in the cellar; we will drain them dry +before you go. If my brother objects (as he well may, +for he is a miser) I will be butler and caterer and +manage the whole feast. Any person who dares to +object may join the porter in the well.”</p> + +<p>Naturally no objections were raised, and Gamelyn and +his friends held high revel for a week, while Sir John +lay hidden in his turret, terrified at the noise and +revelry, and dreading what his brother might do to +him now he had so great a following.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + +<h3>A Reckoning with Sir John</h3> + +<p>However, the guests departed quietly on the eighth +day, leaving Gamelyn alone, and very sorrowful, in the +hall where he had held high revel. As he stood there, +musing sadly, he heard a timid footstep, and saw his +brother creeping towards him. When he had attracted +Gamelyn’s attention he spoke out loudly: “Who made +thee so bold as to destroy all my household stores?”</p> + +<p>“Nay, brother, be not wroth,” said the youth quietly. +“If I have used anything I have paid for it fully beforehand. +For these sixteen years you have had full use +and profit of fifteen good ploughlands which my father +left me; you have also the use and increase of all my +cattle and horses; and now all this past profit I abandon +to you, in return for the expense of this feast of mine.”</p> + +<p>Then said the treacherous Sir John: “Hearken, +my dear brother: I have no son, and thou shalt be my +heir—I swear by the holy St. John.”</p> + +<p>“In faith,” said Gamelyn, “if that be the case, and if +this offer be made in all sincerity, may God reward +you!” for it was impossible for his generous disposition +to suspect his brother of treachery and to fathom the +wiles of a crafty nature; hence it happened that he was +so soon and easily beguiled.</p> + + +<h3>Gamelyn Allows Himself to be Chained</h3> + +<p>Sir John hesitated a moment, and then said doubtfully: +“There is one thing I must tell you, Gamelyn. When +you threw my porter into the well I swore in my wrath +that I would have you bound hand and foot. That +is impossible now without your consent, and I must be +forsworn unless you will let yourself be bound for a +moment, as a mere form, just to save me from the sin +of perjury.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +So sincere Sir John seemed, and so simple did the +whole thing appear, that Gamelyn consented at once. +“Why, certainly, brother, you shall not be forsworn for +my sake.” So he sat down, and the servants bound him +hand and foot; and then Sir John looked mockingly at +him as he said: “So now, my fine brother, I have you +caught at last.” Then he bade them bring fetters and +rivet them on Gamelyn’s limbs, and chain him fast to a +post in the centre of the hall. Then he was placed on +his feet with his back to the post and his hands manacled +behind him, and as he stood there the false brother told +every person who entered that Gamelyn had suddenly +gone mad, and was chained for safety’s sake, lest he should +do himself or others some deadly hurt. For two long +days and nights he stood there bound, with no food or +drink, and grew faint with hunger and weariness, for +his fetters were so tight that he could not sit or lie +down; bitterly he lamented the carelessness which made +him fall such an easy prey to his treacherous brother’s +designs.</p> + + +<h3>Adam Spencer to the Rescue</h3> + +<p>When all others had left the hall Gamelyn appealed +to old Adam Spencer, the steward of the household, +a loyal old servant who had known Sir John of the +Marches, and had watched the boy grow up. “Adam +Spencer,” quoth he, “unless my brother is minded to +slay me, I am kept fasting too long. I beseech thee, +for the great love my father bore thee, get the keys and +release me from my bonds. I will share all my free +land with thee if thou wilt help me in this distress.”</p> + +<p>The poor old servant was greatly perplexed. He knew +not how to reconcile his grateful loyalty to his dead master +with the loyalty due to his present lord, and he said +doubtfully: “I have served thy brother for sixteen years, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +and if I release thee now he will rightly call me a traitor.” +“Ah, Adam! thou wilt find him a false rogue at the last, +as I have done. Release me, dear friend Adam, and I +will be true to my agreement, and will keep my covenant +to share my land with thee.” By these earnest words +the steward was persuaded, and, waiting till Sir John +was safely in bed, managed to obtain possession of the +keys and release Gamelyn, who stretched his arms and +legs and thanked God for his liberty. “Now,” said he, +“if I were but well fed no one in this house should +bind me again to-night.” So Adam took him to a +private room and set food before him; eagerly he +ate and drank till his hunger was satisfied and he began +to think of revenge. “What is your advice, Adam? +Shall I go to my brother and strike off his head? He +well merits it.”</p> + + +<h3>A Plan of Escape</h3> + +<p>“No,” answered Adam, “I know a better plan than +that. Sir John is to give a great feast on Sunday to +many Churchmen and prelates; there will be present a +great number of abbots and priors and other holy men. +Do you stand as if bound by your post in the hall, and +beseech them to release you. If they will be surety for +you, your liberty will be gained with no blame to me; if +they all refuse, you shall cast aside the unlocked chains, +and you and I, with two good staves, can soon win your +freedom. Christ’s curse on him who fails his comrade!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” quoth Gamelyn, “evil may I thrive if I fail +in my part of the bargain! But if we must needs help +them to do penance for their sins, you must warn me, +brother Adam, when to begin.”</p> + +<p>“By St. Charity, master, I will give you good +warning. When I wink at you be ready to cast away +your fetters at once and come to me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +“This is good advice of yours, Adam, and blessings +on your head. If these haughty Churchmen refuse +to be surety for me I will give them good strokes in +payment.”</p> + + +<h3>A Great Feast</h3> + +<p>Sunday came, and after mass many guests thronged +to the feast in the great hall; they all stared curiously +at Gamelyn as he stood with his hands behind him, +apparently chained to his post, and Sir John explained +sadly that he, after slaying the porter and wasting the +household stores, had gone mad, and was obliged to be +chained, for his fury was dangerous. The servants +carried dainty dishes round the table, and beakers of +rich wines, but though Gamelyn cried aloud that he +was fasting no food was brought to him. Then he +spoke pitifully and humbly to the noble guests: +“Lords, for Christ’s sake help a poor captive out of +prison.” But the guests were hard-hearted, and answered +cruelly, especially the abbots and priors, who had been +deceived by Sir John’s false tales. So harshly did they +reply to the youth’s humble petition that he grew angry. +“Oh,” said he, “that is all the answer I am to have to +my prayer! Now I see that I have no friends. Cursed +be he that ever does good to abbot or prior!”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr32.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_214" id="image_page_214"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Lords, for Christ’s sake help poor Gamelyn out of prison!”</p> + + +<h3>The Banquet Disturbed</h3> + +<p>Adam Spencer, busied about the removal of the cloth, +looked anxiously at Gamelyn, and saw how angry he +grew. He thought little more of his service, but, making +a pretext to go to the pantry, brought two good oak staves, +and stood them beside the hall door. Then he winked +meaningly at Gamelyn, who with a sudden shout flung +off his chains, rushed to the hall door, seized a staff, +and began to lay about him lustily, whirling his weapon +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +as lightly as if it had been a holy water sprinkler. +There was a dreadful commotion in the hall, for the +portly Churchmen tried to escape, but the mere laymen +loved Gamelyn, and drew aside to give him free play, +so that he was able to scatter the prelates. Now he +had no pity on these cruel Churchmen, as they had been +without pity for him; he knocked them over, battered +them, broke their arms and legs, and wrought terrible +havoc among them; and during this time Adam +Spencer kept the door so that none might escape. +He called aloud to Gamelyn to respect the sanctity +of men of Holy Church and shed no blood, but if he +should by chance break arms and legs there would be +no sacrilege, because no blood need be shed.</p> + + +<h3>Sir John in Chains</h3> + +<p>Thus Gamelyn worked his will, laying hands on +monks and friars, and sent them home wounded in +carts and waggons, while some of them muttered: +“We were better at home, with mere bread and water, +than here where we have had such a sorry feast!” Then +Gamelyn turned his attention to his false brother, who +had been unable to escape, seized him by the neck, +broke his backbone with one blow from his staff, and +thrust him, sitting, into the fetters that yet hung from +the post where Gamelyn had stood. “Sit there, brother, +and cool thy blood,” said Gamelyn, as he and Adam +sat down to a feast, at which the servants waited on +them eagerly, partly from love and partly from fear.</p> + + +<h3>The Sheriff’s Men Appear</h3> + +<p>Now the sheriff happened to be only five miles away, +and soon heard the news of this disturbance, and how +Gamelyn and Adam had broken the king’s peace; and, +as his duty was, he determined to arrest the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +law-breakers. Twenty-four of his best men were sent to +the castle to gain admittance and arrest Gamelyn and +his steward; but the new porter, a devoted adherent +of Gamelyn, denied them entrance till he knew their +errand; when they refused to tell it, he sent a servant +to rouse Gamelyn and warn him that the sheriff’s +men stood before the gate.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Then answered Gamelyn: ‘Good porter, go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delay my foes with fair speech at the gate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I relieve thee with some cunning wile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I o’erlive this strait, I will requite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy truth and loyalty. Adam,’ quoth he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Our foes are on us, and we have no friend—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sheriff’s men surround us, and have sworn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mighty oath to take us: we must go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither our safety calls us.’ He replied:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Go where thou wilt, I follow to the last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or die forlorn: but this proud sheriffs troop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will flee before our onset, to the fens.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>The Sheriff Arrives</h3> + +<p>As Gamelyn and Adam looked round for weapons +the former saw a cart-staff, a stout post used for propping +up the shafts; this he seized, and ran out at the +little postern gate, followed by Adam with another +staff. They caught the sheriff’s twenty-four bold men +in the rear, and when Gamelyn had felled three, and +Adam two, the rest took to their heels. “What!” said +Adam as they fled. “Drink a draught of my good wine! +I am steward here.” “Nay,” they shouted back; “such +wine as yours scatters a man’s brains far too thoroughly.” +Now this little fray was hardly ended before the sheriff +came in person with a great troop. Gamelyn knew not +what to do, but Adam again had a plan ready. “Let us +stay no longer, but go to the greenwood: there we shall +at least be at liberty.” The advice suited Gamelyn, and +each drank a draught of wine, mounted his steed, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +lightly rode away, leaving the empty nest for the sheriff, +with no eggs therein. However, that officer dismounted, +entered the hall, and found Sir John fettered and nearly +dying. He released him, and summoned a leech, who +healed his grievous wound, and enabled him to do more +mischief.</p> + + +<h3>Gamelyn Goes to the Greenwood</h3> + +<p>Meanwhile Adam wandered with Gamelyn in the +greenwood, and found it very hard work, with little +food. He complained aloud to his young lord:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Would I were back in mine old stewardship—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full blithe were I, the keys to bear and keep!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I like not this wild wood, with wounding thorns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nought of food or drink, or restful ease.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Ah! Adam,’ answered Gamelyn, ‘in sooth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full many a good man’s son feels bitter woe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then cheer thee, Adam.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr33.jpg" width="407" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_218" id="image_page_218"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Then cheer thee, Adam”</p> + +<p>As they spoke sadly together Gamelyn heard men’s +voices near by, and, looking through the bushes, saw +seven score young men, sitting round a plentiful feast, +spread on the green grass. He rejoiced greatly, bidding +Adam remember that “Boot cometh after bale,” and +pointing out to him the abundance of provisions near +at hand. Adam longed for a good meal, for they had +found little to eat since they came to the greenwood. +At that moment the master-outlaw saw them in the +underwood, and bade his young men bring to him +these new guests whom God had sent: perchance, he +said, there were others besides these two. The seven +bold youths who started up to do his will cried to +the two new-comers: “Yield and hand us your bows +and arrows!” “Much sorrow may he have who yields +to you,” cried Gamelyn. “Why, with five more ye would +be only twelve, and I could fight you all.” When the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +outlaws saw how boldly he bore himself they changed +their tone, and said mildly: “Come to our master, and +tell him thy desire.” “Who is your master?” quoth +Gamelyn. “He is the crowned king of the outlaws,” +quoth they; and the two strangers were led away to the +chief.</p> + +<p>The master-outlaw, sitting on a rustic throne, with +a crown of oak-leaves on his head, asked them their +business, and Gamelyn replied: “He must needs walk +in the wood who may not walk in the town. We are +hungry and faint, and will only shoot the deer for food, +for we are hard bestead and in great danger.”</p> + + +<h3>Gamelyn Joins the Outlaws</h3> + +<p>The outlaw leader had pity on their distress, and +gave them food; and as they ate ravenously the outlaws +whispered one to another: “This is Gamelyn!” +“This is Gamelyn!” Understanding all the evils +that had befallen him, their leader soon made Gamelyn +his second in command; and when after three weeks the +outlaw king was pardoned and allowed to return home, +Gamelyn was chosen to succeed him and was crowned +king of the outlaws. So he dwelt merrily in the forest, +and troubled not himself about the world outside.</p> + + +<h3>The Law at Work</h3> + +<p>Meanwhile the treacherous Sir John had recovered, +and in due course had become sheriff, and indicted his +brother for felony. As Gamelyn did not appear to +answer the indictment he was proclaimed an outlaw +and wolf’s-head, and a price was set upon his life. +Now his bondmen and vassals were grieved at this, for +they feared the cruelty of the wicked sheriff; they +therefore sent messengers to Gamelyn to tell him the +ill news, and deprecate his wrath. The youth’s anger +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +rose at the tidings, and he promised to come and beard +Sir John in his hall and protect his own tenants.</p> + + +<h3>Gamelyn Arrested</h3> + +<p>It was certainly a stroke of rash daring thus to venture +into the county where his brother was sheriff, but +he strode boldly into the moot-hall, with his hood +thrown back, so that all might recognise him, and cried +aloud: “God save all you lordings here present! But, +thou broken-backed sheriff, evil mayst thou thrive! +Why hast thou done me such wrong and disgrace as +to have me indicted and proclaimed an outlaw?” +Sir John did not hesitate to use his legal powers, but, +seeing his brother was quite alone, had him arrested +and cast into prison, whence it was his intention that +only death should release him.</p> + + +<h3>Otho as Surety</h3> + +<p>All these years the second brother, Otho, had lived +quietly on his own lands and taken no heed of the +quarrels of the two others; but now, when news came +to him of Sir John’s deadly hatred to their youngest +brother, and Gamelyn’s desperate plight, he was deeply +grieved, roused himself from his peaceful life, and rode +to see if he could help his brother. First he besought +Sir John’s mercy for the prisoner, for the sake of +brotherhood and family love; but he only replied +that Gamelyn must stay imprisoned till the justice +should hold the next assize. Then Otho offered to be +bail, if only his young brother might be released from his +bonds and brought from the dismal dungeon where he +lay. To this Sir John finally consented, warning Otho +that if the accused failed to appear before the justice +he himself must suffer the penalty for the breach +of bail. “I agree,” said Otho. “Have him released at +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +once, and deliver him to me.” Then Gamelyn was set +free on his brother’s surety, and the two rode home +to Otho’s house, talking sadly of all that had befallen, +and how Gamelyn had become king of the outlaws. +The next morning Gamelyn asked Otho’s permission to +go to the greenwood and see how his young men fared +but Otho pointed out so clearly how dreadful would +be the consequences to him if he did not return that +the young man vowed:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘I swear by James, the mighty saint of Spain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I will not desert thee, nor will fail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To stand my trial on the appointed day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If God Almighty give me strength and health<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And power to keep my vow. I will be there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I may show what bitter hate Sir John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My cruel brother, holds against me.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<h3>Gamelyn Goes to the Woods</h3> + +<p>Thereupon Otho bade him go. “God shield thee +from shame! Come when thou seest it is the right +time, and save us both from blame and reproach.” So +Gamelyn went gaily to the merry greenwood, and found +his company of outlaws; and so much had they to tell +of their work in his absence, and so much had he to +relate of his adventures, that time slipped by, and +he soon fell again into his former mode of life, and +his custom of robbing none but Churchmen, fat abbots +and priors, monks and canons, so that all others spoke +good of him, and called him the “courteous outlaw.”</p> + + +<h3>The Term Expires</h3> + +<p>Gamelyn stood one day looking out over the woods +and fields, and it suddenly came to his mind with a +pang of self-reproach that he had forgotten his promise +to Otho, and the day of the assize was very near. He +called his young men (for he had learned not to trust +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +himself to the honour or loyalty of his brother the +sheriff), and bade them prepare to accompany him to +the place of assize, sending Adam on as a scout to learn +tidings. Adam returned in great haste, bringing sad +news. The judge was in his place, a jury empanelled +to condemn Gamelyn to death, bribed thereto by the +wicked sheriff, and Otho was fettered in the gaol in +place of his brother. The news enraged Gamelyn, but +Adam Spencer was even more infuriated; he would +gladly have held the doors of the moot-hall and slain +every person inside except Otho; but his master’s sense +of justice was too strong for that. “Adam,” he said, +“we will not do so, but will slay the guilty and let the +innocent escape. I myself will have some conversation +with the justice in the hall; and meanwhile do ye, my +men, hold the doors fast. I will make myself justice to-day, +and thou, Adam, shalt be my clerk. We will give sentence +this day, and God speed our new work!” All his +men applauded this speech and promised him obedience, +and the troop of outlaws hastened to surround the hall.</p> + + +<h3>Gamelyn in the Court</h3> + +<p>Once again Gamelyn strode into the moot-hall in +the midst of his enemies, and was recognised by all. +He released Otho, who said gently: “Brother, thou +hast nearly overstayed the time; the sentence has been +given against me that I shall be hanged.”</p> + +<p>“Brother,” said Gamelyn, “this day shall thy foes and +mine be hanged: the sheriff, the justice, and the wicked +jurors.” Then Gamelyn turned to the judge, who sat as +if paralysed in his seat of judgment, and said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Come from the seat of justice: all too oft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast thou polluted law’s clear stream with wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too oft hast taken reward against the poor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too oft hast lent thine aid to villainy,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And given judgment ’gainst the innocent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come down and meet thine own meed at the bar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I, in thy place, give more rightful doom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see that justice dwells in law for once.’”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr34.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_222" id="image_page_222"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Come from the seat of justice”</p> + + +<h3>A Scene</h3> + +<p>The justice sat still, dumb with astonishment, and +Gamelyn struck him fiercely, cut his cheek, and threw +him over the bar so that his arm broke; and no man +durst withstand the outlaw, for fear of his company +standing at the doors. The youth sat down in the +judge’s seat, with Otho beside him, and Adam in the +clerk’s desk; and he placed in the dock the false +sheriff, the justice, and the unjust jurors, and accused +them of wrong and attempted murder. In order to +keep up the forms of law, he empanelled a jury of +his own young men, who brought in a verdict of +“Guilty,” and the prisoners were all condemned to +death and hanged out of hand, though the false sheriff +attempted to appeal to the brotherly affection of which +he had shown so little.</p> + + +<h3>Honour from the King</h3> + +<p>After this high-handed punishment of their enemies +Gamelyn and his brother went to lay their case before +King Edward, and he forgave them, in consideration of +all the wrongs and injuries Gamelyn had suffered; and +before they returned to their distant county the king +made Otho sheriff of the county, and Gamelyn chief +forester of all his free forests; his band of outlaws +were all pardoned, and the king gave them posts +according to their capabilities. Now Gamelyn and his +brother settled down to a happy, peaceful life. Otho, +having no son, made Gamelyn his heir, and the latter +married a beauteous lady, and lived with her in joy till +his life’s end.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XI: WILLIAM OF +CLOUDESLEE</h2> + + +<h3>Introduction</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE outlaw of mediæval England has always +possessed a potent charm for the minds of less +rebellious persons. No doubt now the attraction +has somewhat waned, for in the exploration of +distant lands and the study of barbaric tribes men can +find that breadth of outlook, that escape from narrow +conventionalities, which they could formerly gain only +by the cult of the “noble outlaw.” The romance of +life for many a worthy citizen must have been found +in secret sympathy with Robin Hood and his merry +band of banished men, robbing the purse-proud to help +the needy and gaily defying law and authority.</p> + +<p>To the poor, however, the outlaw was something +more than an easy entrance to the realms of romance; +he was a real embodiment of the spirit of liberty. Of +all the unjust laws which the Norman conquerors laid +upon England, perhaps the most bitterly resented were +the forest laws, and resistance to them was the most +popular form of national independence. Hence it +follows that we find outlaw heroes popular very early +in our history—heroes who stand in the mind of the +populace for justice and true liberty against the oppressive +tyranny of subordinate officials, and who are always +taken into favour by the king, the fount of true justice.</p> + + +<h3>Famous Outlaws</h3> + +<p>There is some slight tinge of the “outlaw hero” in +Hereward, but the outlaw period of that patriot’s life +is but an episode in his defence of England against +William the Norman. There is a fully developed outlaw +hero, the ideal of the type, in Robin Hood, but he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +has been somewhat idealized and ennobled by being +transformed into a banished Earl of Huntingdon. Less +known, but equally heroic, is William of Cloudeslee, +the William Tell of England, whose fame is that of a +good yeoman, a good archer, and a good patriot.</p> + + +<h3>The Outlaws</h3> + +<p>In the green forest of Englewood, in the “North +Countree,” not far from the fortified town of Carlisle, +dwelt a merry band of outlaws. They were not evildoers, +but sturdy archers and yeomen, whose outlawry +had been incurred only for shooting the king’s deer. +Indeed, to most men of that time—that is, to most men +who were not in the royal service—the shooting of deer, +and the pursuit of game in general, were not only +venial offences, but the most natural thing in life. The +royal claim to exclusive hunting in the vast forests of +Epping, Sherwood, Needwood, Barnesdale, Englewood, +and many others seemed preposterous to the yeomen +who lived on the borders of the forests, and they took +their risks and shot the deer and made venison pasty, +convinced that they were wronging no one and risking +only their own lives. They had the help and sympathy +of many a man who was himself a law-abiding citizen, +as well as the less understanding help of the town mob +and the labourers in the country.</p> + + +<h3>The Leaders</h3> + +<p>While the outlaws of merry Sherwood recognised no +chief but Robin Hood and no foe but the Sheriff of +Nottingham, the outlaws of Englewood were under +the headship of three famous archers, brothers-in-arms +sworn to stand by each other, but not brothers in blood. +Their names were Adam Bell, William of Cloudeslee, +and Clym of the Cleugh; and of the three William of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +Cloudeslee alone was married. His wife, fair Alice of +Cloudeslee, dwelt in a strong house within the walls +of Carlisle, with her three children, for they were not +included in William’s outlawry. It was possible thus +for her to send her husband warning of any attack +planned by the Sheriff of Carlisle on the outlaws, and she +had saved him and his comrades from surprise already.</p> + + +<h3>William Goes to Carlisle</h3> + +<p>When the blithe spring had come, and the forest was +beautiful with its fresh green leaves, William began to +long for his home and family; he had not ventured +into Carlisle for some time, and it was more than six +months since he had seen his wife’s face. Little wonder +was it, then, that he announced his intention of visiting +his home, at the risk of capture by his old enemy the +Sheriff. In vain his comrades dissuaded him from the +venture. Adam Bell was especially urgent in his advice +that William should remain in the greenwood.</p> + +<p>“You shall not go to Carlisle, brother, by my advice, +nor with my consent. If the sheriff or the justice +should know that you are in the town short would be +your shrift and soon your span of life would end. Stay +with us, and we will fetch you tidings of your wife.”</p> + +<p>William replied: “Nay, I must go myself; I cannot +rest content with tidings only. If all is well I will +return by prime to-morrow, and if I fail you at that +hour you may be sure I am taken or slain; and I pray +you guard well my family, if that be so.”</p> + +<p>Taking leave of his brother outlaws, William made +his way unobserved into the town and came to his wife’s +dwelling. It was closely shut, with doors strongly +bolted, and he was forced to knock long on the window +before his wife opened the shutter to see who was the +importunate visitor.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +“Let me in quickly, my own Alice,” he said. “I have +come to see you and my three children. How have +you fared this long time?”</p> + +<p>“Alas!” she replied, hurriedly admitting him, and +bolting the door again, “why have you come now, +risking your dear life to gain news of us? Know you +not that this house has been watched for more than six +months, so eager are the sheriff and the justice to +capture and hang you? I would have come to you in +the forest, or sent you word of our welfare. I fear—oh, +how I fear!—lest your coming be known!”</p> + + +<h3>The Old Woman’s Treachery</h3> + +<p>“Now that I am here, let us make merry,” quoth +William. “No man has seen me enter, and I would +fain enjoy my short stay with you and my children, for +I must be back in the forest by prime to-morrow. Can +you not give a hungry outlaw food and drink?”</p> + +<p>Then Dame Alice bustled about and prepared the +best she had for her husband; and when all was ready +a very happy little family sat down to the meal, +husband and wife talking cheerily together, while the +children watched in wondering silence the father who +had been away so long and came to them so seldom.</p> + +<p>There was one inmate of the house who saw in +William’s return a means of making shameful profit. +She was an old bedridden woman, apparently paralysed, +whom he had rescued from utter poverty seven years +before. During all that time she had lain on a bed +near the fire, had shared all the life of the family, and +had never once moved from her couch. Now, while +husband and wife talked together and the darkness +deepened in the room, this old impostor slipped from +her bed and glided stealthily out of the house.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> + +<h3>News Brought to the Sheriff</h3> + +<p>It happened that the king’s assize was being held +just then in Carlisle, and the sheriff and his staunch +ally the justice were sitting together in the Justice +Hall. Thither this treacherous old woman hurried +with all speed and pushed into the hall, forcing her +way through the crowd till she came near the sheriff. +“Ha! what would you, good woman?” asked he, +surprised. “Sir, I bring tidings of great value.” +“Tell your tidings, and I shall see if they be of value +or no. If they are I will reward you handsomely.” +“Sir, this night William of Cloudeslee has come into +Carlisle, and is even now in his wife’s house. He is +all alone, and you can take him easily. Now what will +you pay me, for I am sure this news is much to you?” +“You say truth, good woman. That bold outlaw is +the worst of all who kill the king’s deer in his forest of +Englewood, and if I could but catch him I should be +well content. Dame, you shall not go without a +recompense for your journey here and for your +loyalty.” The sheriff then bade his men give the +old woman a piece of scarlet cloth, dyed in grain, +enough for a gown, and the treacherous hag hid the +gift under her cloak, hastened away to Alice’s house, +and slipped unperceived into her place again, hiding the +scarlet cloth under the bed-coverings.</p> + + +<h3>The Hue and Cry</h3> + +<p>Immediately he had heard of Cloudeslee’s presence +in Carlisle the sheriff sent out the hue and cry, and +with all speed raised the whole town, for though none +hated the outlaws men dared not refuse to obey the +king’s officer. The justice, too, joined the sheriff +in the congenial task of capturing an outlaw whose +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +condemnation was already pronounced. With all the +forces at their disposal, sheriff and justice took their +way towards the house where William and Alice +unconscious of the danger besetting them, still talked +lovingly together.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the outlaw’s ears, sharpened by woodcraft +and by constant danger, heard a growing noise +coming nearer and nearer. He knew the sound of +the footsteps of many people, and among the casual +shuffling of feet recognised the ominous tramp of +soldiers.</p> + +<p>“Wife, we are betrayed,” cried William. “Hither +comes the sheriff to take me.”</p> + + +<h3>The Siege of the House</h3> + +<p>Alice ran quickly up to her bedchamber and opened +a window looking to the back, and saw, to her despair, +that soldiers beset the house on every side and filled all +the neighbouring streets. Behind them pressed a great +throng of citizens, who seemed inclined to leave the +capture of the outlaw to the guard. At the same +moment William from the front called to his wife that +the sheriff and justice were besieging the house on +that side.</p> + +<p>“Alas! dear husband, what shall we do?” cried +Alice. “Accursed be all treason! But who can have +betrayed you to your foes? Go into my bedchamber, +dear William, and defend yourself there, for it is the +strongest room in the house. The children and I will +go with you, and I will guard the door while you +defend the windows.”</p> + +<p>The plan was speedily carried out, and while William +took his stand by the window Alice seized a pole-axe +and stationed herself by the door. “No man shall +enter this door alive while I live,” said she.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<h3>The Attack</h3> + +<p>From the window Cloudeslee could perceive his +mortal enemies the justice and the sheriff; and drawing +his good longbow, he shot with deadly aim fair at +the breast of the justice. It was well for the latter +then that he wore a suit of good chain-mail under his +robes; the arrow hit his breast and split in three on the +mail.</p> + +<p>“Beshrew the man that clad you with that mail +coat! You would have been a dead man now if your +coat had been no thicker than mine,” said William.</p> + +<p>“Yield yourself, Cloudeslee, and lay down your bow +and arrows,” said the justice. “You cannot escape, for +we have you safe.”</p> + +<p>“Never shall my husband yield; it is evil counsel +you give,” exclaimed the brave wife from her post at +the door.</p> + + +<h3>The House is Burnt</h3> + +<p>The sheriff, who grew more angered as the hours +passed on and Cloudeslee was not taken, now cried +aloud: “Why do we waste time trifling here? The +man is an outlaw and his life is forfeit. Let us burn +him and his house, and if his wife and children will +not leave him they shall all burn together, for it is +their own choice.”</p> + +<p>This cruel plan was soon carried out. Fire was set +to the door and wooden shutters, and the flames spread +swiftly; the smoke rolled up in thick clouds into the +lofty bedchamber, where the little children, crouching +on the ground, began to weep for fear.</p> + +<p>“Alas! must we all die?” cried fair Alice, grieving +for her children.</p> + +<p>William opened the window and looked out, but +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +there was no chance of escape; his foes filled every +street and lane around the house. “Surely they will +spare my wife and babes,” he thought; and, tearing the +sheets from the bed, he made a rope, with which he let +down to the ground his children, and last of all his +weeping wife.</p> + +<p>He called aloud to the sheriff: “Sir Sheriff, here have +I trusted to you my chief treasures. For God’s sake do +them no harm, but wreak all your wrath on me!”</p> + +<p>Gentle hands received Alice and her babes, and +friendly citizens led them from the press; but Alice went +reluctantly, in utter grief, knowing that her husband +must be burnt with his house or taken by his foes; but +for her children she would have stayed with him. +William continued his wonderful archery, never missing +his aim, till all his arrows were spent, and the flames +came so close that his bowstring was burnt in two. Great +blazing brands came falling upon him from the burning +roof, and the floor was hot beneath his feet. “An evil +death is this!” thought he. “Better it were that I should +take sword and buckler and leap down amid my foes +and so die, striking good blows in the throng of enemies, +than stay here and let them see me burn.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr35.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_232" id="image_page_232"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“William continued his wonderful archery”</p> + +<p>Thereupon he leaped lightly down, and fought so +fiercely that he nearly escaped through the throng, for +the worthy citizens of Carlisle were not anxious to +capture him; but the soldiers, urged by the sheriff and +justice, threw doors and windows upon him, hampered +his blows, and seized and bound him, and cast him into +a deep dungeon.</p> + + +<h3>The Sheriff Gives Sentence</h3> + +<p>“Now, William of Cloudeslee,” quoth the sheriff, +“you shall be hanged with speed, as soon as I can have +a new gallows made. So noted an outlaw merits no +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +common gibbet; a new one is most fitting. To-morrow +at prime you shall die. There is no hope of rescue, for +the gates of the town shall be shut. Your dear friends, +Adam Bell and Clym of the Cleugh, would be helpless +to save you, though they brought a thousand more like +themselves, or even all the devils in Hell.”</p> + +<p>Early next morning the justice arose, went to the +soldiers who guarded the gates, and forbade them to +open till the execution was over; then he went to the +market-place and superintended the erection of a specially +lofty gallows, beside the pillory.</p> + + +<h3>News is Brought to the Greenwood</h3> + +<p>Among the crowd who watched the gallows being +raised was a little lad, the town swineherd, who asked +a bystander the meaning of the new gibbet.</p> + +<p>“It is put up to hang a good yeoman, William of +Cloudeslee, more’s the pity! He has done no wrong +but kill the King’s deer, and that merits not hanging. +It is a foul shame that such injustice can be wrought in +the king’s name.”</p> + +<p>The little lad had often met William of Cloudeslee +in the forest, and had carried him messages from his +wife; William had given the boy many a dinner of +venison, and now he determined to help his friend if he +could. The gates were shut and no man could pass +out, but the boy stole along the wall till he found a +crevice, by which he clambered down outside. Then he +hastened to the forest of Englewood, and met Adam +Bell and Clym of the Cleugh.</p> + +<p>“Come quickly, good yeomen; ye tarry here too long. +While you are at ease in the greenwood your friend, +William of Cloudeslee, is taken, condemned to death, and +ready to be hanged. He needs your help this very hour.”</p> + +<p>Adam Bell groaned. “Ah! if he had but taken our +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +advice he would have been here in safety with us now. +In the greenwood there is no sorrow or care, but when +William went to the town he was running into trouble.” +Then, bending his bow, he shot with unerring aim a +hart, which he gave to the lad as recompense for his +labour and goodwill.</p> + + +<h3>The Outlaws Go to Carlisle</h3> + +<p>“Come,” said Clym to Adam Bell, “let us tarry no +longer, but take our bows and arrows and see what we +can do. By God’s grace we will rescue our brother, +though we may abide it full dearly ourselves. We will +go to Carlisle without delay.”</p> + +<p>The morning was fair as the two yeomen strode from +the deep green shades of Englewood Forest along the +hard white road leading to Carlisle Town. They were +in time as yet, but when they drew near the wall they +were amazed to see that no entrance or exit was possible; +the gates were shut fast.</p> + +<p>Stepping back into the green thickets beside the road, +the two outlaws consulted together. Adam Bell was +for a valiant attempt to storm the gate, but Clym suddenly +bethought him of a wiser plan.</p> + + +<h3>Clym’s Stratagem</h3> + +<p>Said he: “Let us pretend to be messengers from the +king, with urgent letters to the justice. Surely that +should win us admission. But alas! I forgot. How +can we bear out our pretence, for I am no learned clerk. +I cannot write.”</p> + +<p>Quoth Adam Bell: “I can write a good clerkly hand. +Wait one instant and I will speedily have a letter written; +then we can say we have the king’s seal. The plan will +do well enough, for I hold the gate-keeper no learned +clerk, and this will deceive him.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr36.jpg" width="418" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_234" id="image_page_234"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Adam Bell writes the letter</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +Indeed, the letter which he quickly wrote and folded +and sealed was very well and clearly written, and addressed +to the Justice of Carlisle. Then the two bold +outlaws hastened up the road and thundered on the +town gates.</p> + + +<h3>They Enter the Town</h3> + +<p>So long and loud they knocked that the warder came +in great wrath, demanding who dared to make such +clamour.</p> + +<p>Adam Bell replied: “We are two messengers come +straight from our lord the king.” Clym of the Cleugh +added: “We have a letter for the justice which we +must deliver into his own hands. Let us in speedily to +perform our errand, for we must return to the king in +haste.”</p> + +<p>“No,” the warder replied, “that I cannot do. No +man may enter these gates till a false thief and outlaw be +safely hanged. He is William of Cloudeslee, who has +long deserved death.”</p> + +<p>Now Clym saw that matters were becoming desperate, +and time was passing too quickly, so he adopted a more +violent tone. “Ah, rascal, scoundrel, madman!” quoth +he. “If we be delayed here any longer thou shalt be +hanged for a false thief! To keep the king’s messengers +waiting thus! Canst thou not see the king’s seal? +Canst thou not read the address of the royal letter? +Ah, blockhead, thou shalt dearly abide this delay when +my lord knows thereof.”</p> + +<p>Thus speaking, he flourished the forged letter, with +its false seal, in the porter’s face; and the man, seeing +the seal and the writing, believed what was told him. +Reverently he took off his hood and bent the knee to +the king’s messengers, for whom he opened wide the +gates, and they entered, walking warily.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<h3>They Keep the Gates</h3> + +<p>“At last we are within Carlisle walls, and glad thereof +are we,” said Adam Bell, “but when and how we shall +go out again Christ only knows, who harrowed Hell +and brought out its prisoners.”</p> + +<p>“Now if we had the keys ourselves we should have +a good chance of life,” said Clym, “for then we could +go in and out at our own will.” “Let us call the +warder,” said Adam. When he came running at their +call both the yeomen sprang upon him, flung him to +the ground, bound him hand and foot, and cast him +into a dark cell, taking his bunch of keys from his +girdle. Adam laughed and shook the heavy keys. +“Now I am gate-ward of merry Carlisle. See, here +are my keys. I think I shall be the worst warder they +have had for three hundred years. Let us bend our +bows and hold our arrows ready, and walk into the +town to deliver our brother.”</p> + + +<h3>The Fight in the Market-place</h3> + +<p>When they came to the market-place they found a +dense crowd of sympathizers watching pityingly the +hangman’s cart, in which lay William of Cloudeslee, +bound hand and foot, with a rope round his neck. +The sheriff and the justice stood near the gallows, and +Cloudeslee would have been hanged already, but that +the sheriff was hiring a man to measure the outlaw for +his grave. “You shall have the dead man’s clothes, +good fellow, if you make his grave,” said he.</p> + +<p>Cloudeslee’s courage was still undaunted. “I have +seen as great a marvel ere now,” quoth he, “as that a +man who digs a grave for another may lie in it himself, +in as short a time as from now to prime.”</p> + +<p>“You speak proudly, my fine fellow, but hanged you +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +shall be, if I do it with my own hand,” retorted the +sheriff furiously.</p> + +<p>Now the cart moved a little nearer to the scaffold, and +William was raised up to be ready for execution. As +he looked round the dense mass of faces his keen sight +soon made him aware of his friends. Adam Bell and +Clym of the Cleugh stood at one corner of the market-place +with arrow on string, and their deadly aim bent +at the sheriff and justice, whose horses raised them +high above the murmuring throng. Cloudeslee showed +no surprise, but said aloud: “Lo! I see comfort, and +hope to fare well in my journey. Yet if I might have +my hands free I would care little what else befell me.”</p> + + +<h3>The Rescue</h3> + +<p>Now Adam said quietly to Clym: “Brother, do you +take the justice, and I will shoot the sheriff. Let us +both loose at once and leave them dying. It is an +easy shot, though a long one.”</p> + +<p>Thus, while the sheriff yet waited for William to be +measured for his grave, suddenly men heard the twang +of bowstrings and the whistling flight of arrows through +the air, and at the same moment both sheriff and +justice fell writhing from their steeds, with the grey +goose feathers standing in their breasts. All the bystanders +fled from the dangerous neighbourhood, and left +the gallows, the fatal cart, and the mortally wounded +officials alone. The two bold outlaws rushed to release +their comrade, cut his bonds, and lifted him to his feet. +William seized an axe from a soldier and pursued the +fleeing guard, while his two friends with their deadly +arrows slew a man at each shot.</p> + + +<h3>The Mayor of Carlisle</h3> + +<p>When the arrows were all used Adam Bell and Clym +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +of the Cleugh threw away their bows and took to +sword and buckler. The fight continued till midday +for in the narrow streets the three comrades protected +each other, and drew gradually towards the gate. Adam +Bell still carried the keys at his girdle, and they could +pass out easily if they could but once reach the gateway. +By this time the whole town was in a commotion; again +the hue and cry had been raised against the outlaws, and +the Mayor of Carlisle came in person with a mighty +troop of armed citizens, angered now at the fighting in +the streets of the town.</p> + +<p>The three yeomen retreated as steadily as they could +towards the gate, but the mayor followed valiantly +armed with a pole-axe, with which he clove Cloudeslee’s +shield in two. He soon perceived the object of the +outlaws, and bade his men guard the gates well, so that +the three should not escape.</p> + + +<h3>The Escape from Carlisle</h3> + +<p>Terrible was the din in the town now, for trumpets +blew, church-bells were rung backward, women bewailed +their dead in the streets, and over all resounded the +clash of arms, as the fighting drew nigh the gate. When +the gatehouse came in sight the outlaws were fighting +desperately, with diminishing strength, but the thought +of safety outside the walls gave them force to make one +last stand. With backs to the gate and faces to the +foe, Adam and Clym and William made a valiant +onslaught on the townsfolk, who fled in terror, leaving +a breathing-space in which Adam Bell turned the key, +flung open the great ponderous gate, and flung it to +again, when the three had passed through.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 398px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr37.jpg" width="398" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_238" id="image_page_238"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The fight at the gate</p> + + +<h3>Adam and the Keys</h3> + +<p>As Adam locked the door they could hear inside +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +the town the hurrying footsteps of the rallying citizens, +whose furious attack on the great iron-studded door +came too late. The door was locked, and the three +friends stood in safety outside, with their pleasant +forest home within easy reach. The change of feeling +was so intense that Adam Bell, always the man to seize +the humorous point of a situation, laughed lightly. +He called through the barred wicket:</p> + +<p>“Here are your keys. I resign my office as warder—one +half-day’s work is enough for me; and as I +have resigned, and the former gate-ward is somewhat +damaged and has disappeared, I advise you to find a +new one. Take your keys, and much good may you +get from them. Next time I advise you not to stop an +honest yeoman from coming to see his own wife and +have a chat with her.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon he flung the keys over the gate on the +heads of the crowd, and the three brethren slipped +away into the forest to their own haunts, where they +found fresh bows and arrows in such abundance that +they longed to be back in fair Carlisle with their foes +before them.</p> + + +<h3>William of Cloudeslee and his Wife Meet</h3> + +<p>While they were yet discussing all the details of the +rescue they heard a woman’s pitiful lament and the +crying of little children. “Hark!” said Cloudeslee, +and they all heard in the silence the words she said. +It was William’s wife, and she cried: “Alas! why did +I not die before this day? Woe is me that my dear +husband is slain! He is dead, and I have no friend to +lament with me. If only I could see his comrades and +tell what has befallen him my heart would be eased of +some of its pain.”</p> + +<p>William, as he listened, was deeply touched, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +walked gently to fair Alice, as she hid her face in her +hands and wept. “Welcome, wife, to the greenwood!” +quoth he. “By heaven, I never thought to +see you again when I lay in bonds last night.” Dame +Alice sprang up most joyously. “Oh, all is well with +me now you are here; I have no care or woe.” “For +that you must thank my dear brethren, Adam and +Clym,” said he; and Alice began to load them with +her thanks, but Adam cut short the expression of her +gratitude. “No need to talk about a little matter like +that,” he said gruffly. “If we want any supper we +had better kill something, for the meat we must eat is +yet running wild.”</p> + +<p>With three such good archers game was easily shot +and a merry meal was quickly prepared in the greenwood, +and all joyfully partook of venison and other +dainties. Throughout the repast William devotedly +waited on his wife with deepest love and reverence, for +he could not forget how she had defended him and +risked her life to stand by him.</p> + + +<h3>William’s Proposed Visit to London</h3> + +<p>When the meal was over, and they reclined on the +green turf round the fire, William began thoughtfully:</p> + +<p>“It is in my mind that we ought speedily to go to +London and try to win our pardon from the king. +Unless we approach him before news can be brought +from Carlisle he will assuredly slay us. Let us go at +once, leaving my dear wife and my two youngest sons +in a convent here; but I would fain take my eldest boy +with me. If all goes well he can bring good news to +Alice in her nunnery, and if all goes ill he shall bring +her my last wishes. But I am sure I am not meant to +die by the law.” His brethren approved the plan, and +they took fair Alice and her two youngest children to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +the nunnery, and then the three famous archers with +the little boy of seven set out at their best speed for +London, watching the passers-by carefully, that no news +of the doings in Carlisle should precede them to the +king.</p> + + +<h3>Outlaws in the Royal Palace</h3> + +<p>The three yeomen, on arriving in London, made +their way at once to the king’s palace, and walked +boldly into the hall, regardless of the astonished and +indignant shouts of the royal porter. He followed +them angrily into the hall, and began reproaching +them and trying to induce them to withdraw, but to no +purpose. Finally an usher came and said: “Yeomen, +what is your wish? Pray tell me, and I will help you +if I can; but if you enter the king’s presence thus +unmannerly you will cause us to be blamed. Tell me +now whence you come.”</p> + +<p>William fearlessly answered: “Sir, we will tell the +truth without deceit. We are outlaws from the king’s +forests, outlawed for killing the king’s deer, and we +come to beg for pardon and a charter of peace, to show +to the sheriff of our county.”</p> + + +<h3>The King and the Outlaws</h3> + +<p>The usher went to an inner room and begged to +know the king’s will, whether he would see these outlaws +or not. The king was interested in these bold +yeomen, who dared to avow themselves law-breakers, +and bade men bring them to audience with him. The +three comrades, with the little boy, on being introduced +into the royal presence, knelt down and held up their +hands, beseeching pardon for their offences.</p> + +<p>“Sire, we beseech your pardon for our breach of +your laws. We are forest outlaws, who have slain your +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +fallow deer in many parts of your royal forests.” “Your +names? Tell me at once,” said the king. “Adam +Bell, Clym of the Cleugh, and William of Cloudeslee,” +they replied.</p> + +<p>The king was very wrathful. “Are you those bold +robbers of whom men have told me? Do you now dare +to come to me for pardon? On mine honour I vow that +you shall all three be hanged without mercy, as I am +crowned king of this realm of England. Arrest them +and lay them in bonds.” There was no resistance +possible, and the yeomen submitted ruefully to their +arrest. Adam Bell was the first to speak. “As I hope +to thrive, this game pleases me not at all,” he said. +“Sire, of your mercy, we beg you to remember that we +came to you of our own free will, and to let us pass +away again as freely. Give us back our weapons and +let us have free passage till we have left your palace; +we ask no more; we shall never ask another favour, +however long we live.”</p> + +<p>The king was obdurate, however; he only replied: +“You speak proudly still, but you shall all three be +hanged.”</p> + + +<h3>The Queen Intercedes</h3> + +<p>The queen, who was sitting beside her husband, now +spoke for the first time. “Sire, it were a pity that such +good yeomen should die, if they might in any wise be +pardoned.” “There is no pardon,” said the king. She +then replied: “My lord, when I first left my native +land and came into this country as your bride you +promised to grant me at once the first boon I asked. I +have never needed to ask one until to-day, but now, sire, +I claim one, and I beg you to grant it.” “With all my +heart; ask your boon, and it shall be yours willingly.” +“Then, I pray you, grant me the lives of these good +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +yeomen.” “Madam, you might have had half my kingdom, +and you ask a worthless trifle.” “Sire, it seems +not worthless to me; I beg you to keep your promise.” +“Madam, it vexes me that you have asked so little; +yet since you will have these three outlaws, take them.” +The queen rejoiced greatly. “Many thanks, my lord +and husband. I will be surety for them that they +shall be true men henceforth. But, good my lord, give +them a word of comfort, that they may not be wholly +dismayed by your anger.”</p> + + +<h3>News Comes to the King</h3> + +<p>The king smiled at his wife. “Ah, madam! you +will have your own way, as all women will. Go, +fellows, wash yourselves, and find places at the tables, +where you shall dine well enough, even if it be not on +venison pasty from the king’s own forests.”</p> + +<p>The outlaws did reverence to the king and queen, and +found seats with the king’s guard at the lower tables +in the hall. They were still satisfying their appetites +when a messenger came in haste to the king; and the +three North Countrymen looked at one another uneasily, +for they knew the man was from Carlisle. The +messenger knelt before the king and presented his +letters. “Sire, your officers greet you well.”</p> + +<p>“How fare they? How does my valiant sheriff? +And the prudent justice? Are they well?”</p> + +<p>“Alas! my lord, they have been slain, and many +another good officer with them.”</p> + +<p>“Who hath done this?” questioned the king +angrily.</p> + +<p>“My lord, three bold outlaws, Adam Bell, Clym of +the Cleugh, and William of Cloudeslee.”</p> + +<p>“What! these three whom I have just pardoned? +Ah, sorely I repent that I forgave them! I would give +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +a thousand pounds if I could have them hanged all +three; but I cannot.”</p> + + +<h3>The King’s Test</h3> + +<p>As the king read the letters his anger and surprise +increased. It seemed impossible that three men should +overawe a whole town, should slay sheriff, justice, +mayor, and nearly every official in the town, forge a +royal letter with the king’s seal, and then lock the +gates and escape safely. There was no doubt of the +fact, and the king raged impotently against his own +foolish mercy in giving them a free pardon. It had +been granted, however, and he could do nought but +grieve over the ruin they had wrought in Carlisle. At +last he sprang up, for he could endure the banquet no +longer.</p> + +<p>“Call my archers to go to the butts,” he commanded. +“I will see these bold outlaws shoot, and +try if their archery is so fine as men say.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly the king’s archers and the queen’s +archers arrayed themselves, and the three yeomen took +their bows and looked well to their silken bowstrings; +and then all made their way to the butts where the +targets were set up. The archers shot in turn, aiming +at an ordinary target, but Cloudeslee soon grew weary +of this childish sport, and said aloud: “I shall never +call a man a good archer who shoots at a target as large +as a buckler. We have another sort of butt in my +country, and that is worth shooting at.”</p> + + +<h3>William of Cloudeslee’s Archery</h3> + +<p>“Make ready your own butts,” the king commanded, +and the three outlaws went to a bush in a +field close by and returned bearing hazel-rods, peeled +and shining white. These rods they set up at four +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +hundred yards apart, and, standing by one, they +said to the king: “We should account a man a +fair archer if he could split one wand while standing +beside the other.” “It cannot be done; the feat is +too great,” exclaimed the king. “Sire, I can easily +do it,” quoth Cloudeslee, and, taking aim very carefully, +he shot, and the arrow split the wand in +two. “In truth,” said the king, “you are the best +archer I have ever seen. Can you do greater wonders?” +“Yes,” quoth Cloudeslee, “one thing more +I can do, but it is a more difficult feat. Nevertheless +I will try it, to show you our North Country +shooting.” “Try, then,” the king replied; “but if +you fail you shall be hanged without mercy, because +of your boasting.”</p> + + +<h3>Cloudeslee Shoots the Apple from his Son’s Head</h3> + +<p>Now Cloudeslee stood for a few moments as if +doubtful of himself, and the South Country archers +watched him, hoping for a chance to retrieve their defeat, +when William suddenly said: “I have a son, a dear +son, seven years of age. I will tie him to a stake and +place an apple on his head. Then from a distance of a +hundred and twenty yards I will split the apple in two +with a broad arrow.” “By heaven!” the king cried, +“that is a dreadful feat. Do as you have said, or by +Him who died on the Cross I will hang you high. Do +as you have said, but if you touch one hair of his head, or +the edge of his gown, I will hang you and your two companions.” +“I have never broken my pledged word,” +said the North Country bowman, and he at once made +ready for the terrible trial. The stake was set in the +ground, the boy tied to it, with his face turned from his +father, lest he should give a start and destroy his aim. +Cloudeslee then paced the hundred and twenty yards, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +anxiously felt his string, bent his bow, chose his broadest +arrow, and fitted it with care.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 401px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr38.jpg" width="401" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_244" id="image_page_244"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">William of Cloudeslee and his son</p> + + +<h3>The Last Shot</h3> + +<p>It was an anxious moment. The throng of spectators +felt sick with expectation, and many women wept and +prayed for the father and his innocent son. But +Cloudeslee showed no fear. He addressed the crowd +gravely: “Good folk, stand all as still as may be. For +such a shot a man needs a steady hand, and your movements +may destroy my aim and make me slay my son. +Pray for me.”</p> + +<p>Then, in an unbroken silence of breathless suspense, +the bold marksman shot, and the apple fell +to the ground, cleft into two absolutely equal halves. +A cheer from every spectator burst forth deafeningly, +and did not die down till the king beckoned for +silence.</p> + + +<h3>The King and Queen Show Favour</h3> + +<p>“God forbid that I should ever be your target,” +quoth he. “You shall be my chief forester in the North +Country, with daily wage, and daily right of killing +venison; your two brethren shall become yeomen of +my guard, and I will advance the fortunes of your +family in every way.”</p> + +<p>The queen smiled graciously upon William, and +she bestowed a pension upon him, and bade him +bring his wife, fair Alice, to court, to take up the +post of chief woman of the bedchamber to the royal +children.</p> + +<p>Overwhelmed with these favours, the three yeomen +became conscious of their own offences, more than they +had told to the royal pair; their awakened consciences +sent them to a holy bishop, who heard their confessions, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +gave them penance and bade them live well for the +future, and then absolved them. When they had +returned to Englewood Forest and had broken up the +outlaw band they came back to the royal court, and +spent the rest of their lives in great favour with the +king and queen.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XII: BLACK COLIN OF +LOCH AWE</h2> + + +<h3>Introduction</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>N considering the hero-myths of Scotland we are +at once confronted with two difficulties. The first, +and perhaps the greater, is this, that the only +national heroes of Lowland Scotland are actual historical +persons, with very little of the mythical character about +them. The mention of Scottish heroes at once suggests +Sir William Wallace, Robert Bruce, the Black Douglas, +Sir Andrew Barton, and many more, whose exploits are +matter of serious chronicle and sober record rather than +subject of tradition and myth. These warriors are too +much in reach of the fierce white searchlight of historic +inquiry to be invested with mythical interest or to show +any developments of ancient legend.</p> + +<p>The second difficulty is of a different nature, and +yet almost equally perplexing. In the old ballads and +poems of the Gaelic Highlands there are mythical +heroes in abundance, such as Fingal and Ossian, Comala, +and a host of shadowy chieftains and warriors, but they +are not distinctively Scotch. They are only Highland +Gaelic versions of the Irish Gaelic hero-legends, Scotch +embodiments of Finn and Oisin, whose real home was +in Ireland, and whose legends were carried to the +Western Isles and the Highlands by conquering tribes +of Scots from Erin. These heroes are at bottom Irish, +the champions of the Fenians and of the Red Branch, +and in the Scotch legends they have lost much of their +original beauty and chivalry.</p> + + +<h3>The Highland Clans</h3> + +<p>It is rather in the private history of the country, as +it were, than in its national records that we are likely +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +to find a hero who will have something of the mythical +in his story, something of the romance of the Middle +Ages. The wars and jealousies of the clans, the +adventures of a chief among hostile tribesmen, the +raids and forays, the loves and hatreds of rival families, +form a good background for a romantic legend; and +such a legend occurs in the story of Black Colin of +Loch Awe, a warrior of the great Campbell clan in the +fourteenth century. The tale is common in one form +or another to all European lands where the call of the +Crusades was heard, and the romantic Crusading element +has to a certain extent softened the occasionally +ferocious nature of Highland stories in general, so that +there is no bloodthirsty vengeance, no long blood-feud, +to be recorded of Black Colin Campbell.</p> + + +<h3>The Knight of Loch Awe</h3> + +<p>During the wars between England and Scotland in +the reigns of Edward I. and Edward II. one of the +chief leaders in the cause of Scottish independence was +Sir Nigel Campbell. The Knight of Loch Awe, as he +was generally called, was a schoolfellow and comrade of +Sir William Wallace, and a loyal and devoted adherent +of Robert Bruce. In return for his services in the war +of independence Bruce rewarded him with lands belonging +to the rebellious MacGregors, including Glenurchy, +the great glen at the head of Loch Awe through which +flows the river Orchy. It was a wild and lonely district, +and Sir Nigel Campbell had much conflict before +he finally expelled the MacGregors and settled down +peaceably in Glenurchy. There his son was born, and +named Colin, and as years passed he won the nickname +of Black Colin, from his swarthy complexion, or possibly +from his character, which showed tokens of unusual +fierceness and determination.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Black Colin’s Youth</h3> + +<p>Sir Nigel Campbell, as all Highland chiefs did, +sent his son to a farmer’s family for fosterage. The +boy became a child of his foster-family in every way; +he lived on the plain food of the clansmen, oatmeal +porridge and oatcake, milk from the cows, and beef +from the herds; he ran and wrestled and hunted with +his foster-brothers, and learnt woodcraft and warlike +skill, broadsword play and the use of dirk and buckler, +from his foster-father. More than all, he won a devoted +following in the clan, for a man’s foster-parents were +almost dearer to him than his own father and mother, +and his foster-brethren were bound to fight and die +for him, and to regard him more than their own blood-relations. +The foster-parents of Black Colin were +a farmer and his wife, Patterson by name, living at +Socach, in Glenurchy, and well and truly they fulfilled +their trust.</p> + + +<h3>He Goes on Crusade</h3> + +<p>In course of time Sir Nigel Campbell died, and +Black Colin, his son, became Knight of Loch Awe, and +lord of all Glenurchy and the country round. He was +already noted for his strength and his dark complexion, +which added to his beauty in the eyes of the maidens, +and he soon found a lovely and loving bride. They +dwelt on the Islet in Loch Awe, and were very happy +for a short time, but Colin was always restless, because +he would fain do great deeds of arms, and there was +peace just then in the land.</p> + +<p>At last one day a messenger arrived at the castle on the +Islet bearing tidings that another crusade was on foot. +This messenger was a palmer who had been in the +Holy Land, and had seen all the holy places in Jerusalem. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +He told Black Colin how the Saracens ruled the country, +and hindered men from worshipping at the sacred +shrines; and he told how he had come home by Rome, +where the Pope had just proclaimed another Holy +War. The Pope had declared that his blessing would +rest on the man who should leave wife and home and +kinsfolk, and go forth to fight for the Lord against the +infidel. As the palmer spoke Black Colin became +greatly moved by his words, and when the old man +had made an end he raised the hilt of his dirk and +swore by the cross thereon that he would obey the +summons and go on crusade.</p> + + +<h3>The Lady of Loch Awe</h3> + +<p>Now Black Colin’s wife was greatly grieved, and +wept sorely, for she was but young, and had been +wedded no more than a year, and it seemed to her hard +that she must be left alone. She asked her husband: +“How far will you go on this errand?” “I will go +as far as Jerusalem, if the Pope bids me, when I have +come to Rome,” said he. “Alas! and how long will +you be away from me?” “That I know not, but +it may be for years if the heathen Saracens will not +surrender the Holy Land to the warriors of the +Cross.” “What shall I do during those long, weary +years?” asked she. “Dear love, you shall dwell +here on the Islet and be Lady of Glenurchy till I +return again. The vassals and clansmen shall obey +you in my stead, and the tenants shall pay you their +rents and their dues, and in all things you shall hold +my land for me.”</p> + + +<h3>The Token</h3> + +<p>The Lady of Loch Awe sighed as she asked: “But if +you die away in that distant land how shall I know? +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +What will become of me if at last such woeful tidings +should be brought?”</p> + +<p>“Wait for me seven years, dear wife,” said Colin, +“and if I do not return before the end of that time +you may marry again and take a brave husband to +guard your rights and rule the glen, for I shall be +dead in the Holy Land.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 414px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr39.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_252" id="image_page_252"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Wait for me seven years, dear wife”</p> + +<p>“That I will never do. I will be the Lady of Glenurchy +till I die, or I will become the bride of Heaven +and find peace for my sorrowing soul in a nunnery. No +second husband shall wed me and hold your land. But +give me now some token that we may share it between +us; and you shall swear that on your deathbed you +will send it to me; so shall I know indeed that you +are no longer alive.”</p> + +<p>“It shall be as you say,” answered Black Colin, +and he went to the smith of the clan and bade him +make a massive gold ring, on which Colin’s name was +engraved, as well as that of the Lady of Loch Awe. +Then, breaking the ring in two, Colin gave to his +wife the piece with his name and kept the other +piece, vowing to wear it near his heart and only to +part with it when he should be dying. In like +manner she with bitter weeping swore to keep her +half of the ring, and hung it on a chain round her +neck; and so, with much grief and great mourning +from the whole clan, Black Colin and his sturdy +following of Campbell clansmen set out for the Holy +Land.</p> + + +<h3>The Journey</h3> + +<p>Sadly at first the little band marched away from all +their friends and their homes; bagpipes played their +loudest marching tunes, and plaids fluttered in the +breeze, and the men marched gallantly, but with heavy +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +hearts, for they knew not when they would return, and +they feared to find supplanters in their homes when +they came back after many years. Their courage rose, +however, as the miles lengthened behind them, and by +the time they had reached Edinburgh and had taken +ship at Leith all was forgotten but the joy of fighting +and the eager desire to see Rome and the Pope, the +Holy Land and the Holy Sepulchre. Journeying up +the Rhine, the Highland clansmen made their way +through Switzerland and over the passes of the Alps +down into the pleasant land of Italy, where the splendour +of the cities surpassed their wildest imaginations; +and so they came at last, with many other bands of +Crusaders, to Rome.</p> + + +<h3>The Crusade</h3> + +<p>At Rome the Knight of Loch Awe was so fortunate +as to have an audience of the Pope himself, who was +touched by the devotion which brought these stern +warriors so far from their home. Black Colin knelt in +reverence before the aged pontiff, whom he held in +truth to be the Vicar of Christ on earth, and received +his blessing, and commands to continue his journey to +Rhodes, where the Knights of St. John would give him +opportunity to fight for the faith. The small band of +Campbells went on to Rhodes, and there took service +with the Knights, and won great praise from the Grand +Master; but, though they fought the infidel, and +exalted the standard of the Cross above the Crescent, +Colin was still not at all satisfied. He left Rhodes +after some years with a much-diminished band, and +made his way as a pilgrim to Jerusalem. There he +stayed until he had visited all the shrines in the Holy +Land and prayed at every sacred spot. By this time +the seven years of his proposed absence were ended, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +and he was still far from his home and the dear glen +by Loch Awe.</p> + + +<h3>The Lady’s Suitor</h3> + +<p>While the seven years slowly passed away his sad and +lonely wife dwelt in the castle on the Islet, ruling her +lord’s clan in all gentle ways, but fighting boldly when +raiders came to plunder her clansmen. Yearly she +claimed her husband’s dues and watched that he was +not defrauded of his rights. But though thus firm, +she was the best help in trouble that her clan ever had, +and all blessed the name of the Lady of Loch Awe.</p> + +<p>So fair and gentle a lady, so beloved by her clan, +was certain to have suitors if she were a widow, and +even before the seven years had passed away there were +men who would gladly have persuaded her that her +husband was dead and that she was free. She, however, +steadfastly refused to hear a word of another marriage, +saying: “When Colin parted from me he gave me two +promises, one to return, if possible, within seven years, +and the other to send me, on his deathbed, if he died +away from me, a sure token of his death. I have not +yet waited seven years, nor have I had the token of his +death. I am still the wife of Black Colin of Loch Awe.”</p> + +<p>This steadfastness gradually daunted her suitors and +they left her alone, until but one remained, the Baron +Niel MacCorquodale, whose lands bordered on Glenurchy, +and who had long cast covetous eyes on the +glen and its fair lady, and longed no less for the wealth +she was reputed to possess than for the power this +marriage would give him.</p> + + +<h3>The Baron’s Plot</h3> + +<p>When the seven years were over the Baron MacCorquodale +sought the Lady of Loch Awe again, wooing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +her for his wife. Again she refused, saying, “Until +I have the token of my husband’s death I will be +wife to no other man.” “And what is this token, +lady?” asked the Baron, for he thought he could send +a false one. “I will never tell that,” replied the lady. +“Do you dare to ask the most sacred secret between +husband and wife? I shall know the token when it +comes.” The Baron was not a little enraged that he +could not discover the secret, but he determined to +wed the lady and her wealth notwithstanding; accordingly +he wrote by a sure and secret messenger to a +friend in Rome, bidding him send a letter with +news that Black Colin was assuredly dead, and that +certain words (which the Baron dictated) had come +from him.</p> + + +<h3>A Forged Letter</h3> + +<p>One day the Lady of Loch Awe, looking out from her +castle, saw the Baron coming, and with him a palmer +whose face was bronzed by Eastern suns. She felt that +the palmer would bring tidings, and welcomed the +Baron with his companion. “Lady, this palmer brings +you sad news,” quoth the Baron. “Let him tell it, +then,” replied she, sick with fear. “Alas! fair dame, +if you were the wife of that gallant knight Colin of +Loch Awe, you are now his widow,” said the palmer +sadly, as he handed her a letter. “What proof have +you?” asked Black Colin’s wife before she read the +letter. “Lady, I talked with the soldier who brought +the tidings,” replied the stranger.</p> + +<p>The letter was written from Rome to “The Right +Noble Dame the Lady of Loch Awe,” and told how +news had come from Rhodes, brought by a man of +Black Colin’s band, that the Knight of Loch Awe had +been mortally wounded in a fight against the Saracens. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +Dying, he had bidden his clansmen return to their +lady, but they had all perished but one, fighting for +vengeance against the infidels. This man, who had +held the dying Knight tenderly upon his knee, said +that Colin bade his wife farewell, bade her remember +his injunction to wed again and find a protector, gasped +out, “Take her the token I promised; it is here,” and +died; but the Saracens attacked the Christians again, +drove them back, and plundered the bodies of the slain, +and when the one survivor returned to search for the +precious token there was none! The body was stripped +of everything of value, and the clansman wound it in +the plaid and buried it on the battlefield.</p> + + +<h3>The Lady’s Stratagem</h3> + +<p>There seemed no reason for the lady to doubt this +news, and her grief was very real and sincere. She clad +herself in mourning robes and bewailed her lost husband, +but yet she was not entirely satisfied, for she still wore +the broken half of the engraved ring on the chain round +her neck, and still the promised death-token had not +come. The Baron now pressed his suit with greater +ardour than before, and the Lady of Loch Awe was hard +put to it to find reasons for refusing him. It was +necessary to keep him on good terms with the clan, for +his lands bordered on those of Glenurchy, and he could +have made war on the people in the glen quite easily, +while the knowledge that their chief was dead would +have made them a broken clan. So the lady turned to +guile, as did Penelope of old in similar distress. “I +will wed you, now that my Colin is dead,” she replied +at last, “but it cannot be immediately; I must first +build a castle that will command the head of Glenurchy +and of Loch Awe. The MacGregors knew the best place +for a house, there on Innis Eoalan; there, where the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +ruins of MacGregor’s White House now stand, will I +build my castle. When it is finished the time of my +mourning will be over, and I will fix the bridal day.” +With this promise the Baron had perforce to be contented, +and the castle began to rise slowly at the head of +Loch Awe; but its progress was not rapid, because the +lady secretly bade her men build feebly, and often the +walls fell down, so that the new castle was very long +in coming to completion.</p> + + +<h3>Black Colin Hears the News</h3> + +<p>In the meantime all who loved Black Colin grieved +to know that the Lady of Loch Awe would wed again, +and his foster-mother sorrowed most of all, for she felt +sure that her beloved Colin was not dead. The death-token +had not been sent, and she sorely mistrusted the +Baron MacCorquodale and doubted the truth of the +palmer’s message. At last, when the new castle was +nearly finished and shone white in the rays of the sun, +she called one of her sons and bade him journey to +Rome to find the Knight of Loch Awe, if he were yet +alive, and to bring sure tidings of his death if he were +no longer living. The young Patterson set off secretly, +and reached Rome in due course, and there he met +Black Colin, just returned from Jerusalem. The Knight +had at last realized that he had spent seven years away +from his home, and that now, in spite of all his haste, +he might reach Glenurchy too late to save his wife from +a second marriage. He comforted himself, however, +with the thought that the token was still safe with him, +and that his wife would be loyal; great, therefore, was +his horror when he met his foster-brother and heard how +the news of his death had been brought to the glen. +He heard also how his wife had reluctantly promised +to marry the Baron MacCorquodale, and had delayed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +her wedding by stratagem, and he vowed that he would +return to Glenurchy in time to spoil the plans of the +wicked baron.</p> + + +<h3>Black Colin’s Return</h3> + +<p>Travelling day and night, Black Colin, with his faithful +clansman, came near to Glenurchy, and sent his +follower on in advance to bring back news. The youth +returned with tidings that the wedding had been fixed +for the next day, since the castle was finished and no +further excuse for delay could be made. Then Colin’s +anger was greatly roused, and he vowed that the Baron +MacCorquodale, who had stooped to deceit and forgery +to gain his ends, should pay dearly for his baseness. +Bidding his young clansman show no sign of recognition +when he appeared, the Knight of Loch Awe sent him to +the farm in the glen, where the anxious foster-mother +eagerly awaited the return of the wanderer. When she +saw her son appear alone she was plunged into despair, +for she concluded, not that Black Colin was dead, +but that he would return too late. When he, in the +beggar’s disguise which he assumed, came down the +Glen he saw the smoke from the castle on the Islet, +and said: “I see smoke from my house, and it is the +smoke of a wedding feast in preparation, but I pray +God who sent us light and love that I may reap the +fruit of the love that is there.”</p> + + +<h3>The Foster-Mother’s Recognition</h3> + +<p>The Knight then went to his foster-mother’s house, +knocked at the door, and humbly craved food and +shelter, as a beggar. “Come in, good man,” quoth +the mistress of the house; “sit down in the chimney-corner, +and you shall have your fill of oatcake and +milk.” Colin sat down heavily, as if he were +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +overwearied, and the farmer’s wife moved about slowly, putting +before him what she had; and the Knight saw that +she did not recognise him, and that she had been weeping +quite recently. “You are sad, I can see,” he said. +“What is the cause of your grief?” “I am not minded +to tell that to a wandering stranger,” she replied. +“Perhaps I can guess what it is,” he continued; “you +have lost some dear friend, I think.” “My loss is great +enough to give me grief,” she answered, weeping. “I +had a dear foster-son, who went oversea to fight the +heathen. He was dearer to me than my own sons, and +now news has come that he is dead in that foreign land. +And the Lady of Loch Awe, who was his wife, is to wed +another husband to-morrow. Long she waited for him, +past the seven years he was to be away, and now she +would not marry again, but that a letter has come to +assure her of his death. Even yet she is fretting +because she has not had the token he promised to +send her; and she will only marry because she dare +no longer delay.”</p> + +<p>“What is this token?” asked Colin. “That I know +not: she has never told,” replied the foster-mother; +“but oh! if he were now here Glenurchy would never fall +under the power of Baron MacCorquodale.” “Would +you know Black Colin if you were to see him?” the +beggar asked meaningly; and she replied: “I think I +should, for though he has been away for years, I nursed +him, and he is my own dear fosterling.” “Look well at +me, then, good mother of mine, for I am Colin of Loch +Awe.”</p> + +<p>The mistress of the farm seized the beggar-man by +the arm, drew him out into the light, and looked +earnestly into his face; then, with a scream of joy, she +flung her arms around him, and cried: “O Colin! +Colin! my dear son, home again at last! Glad and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +glad I am to see you here in time! Weary have the +years been since my nursling went away, but now you +are home all will be well.” And she embraced him and +kissed him and stroked his hair, and exclaimed at his +bronzed hue and his ragged attire.</p> + + +<h3>The Foster-Mother’s Plan</h3> + +<p>At last Colin stopped her raptures. “Tell me, +mother, does my wife seem to wish for this marriage?” +he asked; and his foster-mother answered: “Nay, my +son, she would not wed now but that, thinking you are +dead, she fears the Baron’s anger if she continues to +refuse him. But if you doubt her heart, follow my +counsel, and you shall be assured of her will in this +matter.” “What do you advise?” asked he. She +answered: “Stay this night with me here, and to-morrow +go in your beggar’s dress to the castle on the Islet. Stand +with other beggars at the door, and refuse to go until +the bride herself shall bring you food and drink. Then +you can put your token in the cup the Lady of Loch Awe +will hand you, and by her behaviour you shall learn if +her heart is in this marriage or not.” “Dear mother, +your plan is good, and I will follow it,” quoth Colin. +“This night I will rest here, and on the morrow I will +seek my wife.”</p> + + +<h3>The Beggar at the Wedding</h3> + +<p>Early next day Colin arose, clad himself in the disguise +of a sturdy beggar, took a kindly farewell of his +foster-mother, and made his way to the castle. Early +as it was, all the servants were astir, and the whole place +was in a bustle of preparation, while vagabonds of every +description hung round the doors, begging for food and +money in honour of the day. The new-comer acted +much more boldly: he planted himself right in the open +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +doorway and begged for food and drink in such a lordly +tone that the servants were impressed by it, and one of +them brought him what he asked—oatcake and buttermilk—and +gave it to him, saying, “Take this and begone.” +Colin took the alms and drank the buttermilk, +but put the cake into his wallet, and stood sturdily +right in the doorway, so that the servants found it difficult +to enter. Another servant came to him with more +food and a horn of ale, saying, “Now take this second +gift of food and begone, for you are in our way here, +and hinder us in our work.”</p> + + +<h3>The Beggar’s Demand</h3> + +<p>But he stood more firmly still, with his stout travelling-staff +planted on the threshold, and said: “I will not +go.” Then a third servant approached, who said: “Go +at once, or it will be the worse for you. We have given +you quite enough for one beggar. Leave quickly now, +or you will get us and yourself into trouble.” The +disguised Knight only replied: “I will not go until the +bride herself comes out to give me a drink of wine,” +and he would not move, for all they could say. The +servants at last grew so perplexed that they went to +tell their mistress about this importunate beggar. She +laughed as she said: “It is not much for me to do on +my last day in the old house,” and she bade a servant +attend her to the door, bringing a large jug full of wine.</p> + + +<h3>The Token</h3> + +<p>As the unhappy bride came out to the beggar-man +he bent his head in greeting, and she noticed his +travel-stained dress and said: “You have come from +far, good man”; and he replied: “Yes, lady, I have +seen many distant lands.” “Alas! others have gone +to see distant lands and have not returned,” said she. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +“If you would have a drink from the hands of the +bride herself, I am she, and you may take your wine +now”; and, holding a bowl in her hands, she bade the +servant fill it with wine, and then gave it to Colin. +“I drink to your happiness,” said he, and drained the +bowl. As he gave it back to the lady he placed within +it the token, the half of the engraved ring. “I return +it richer than I took it, lady,” said he, and his wife +looked within and saw the token.</p> + + +<h3>The Recognition</h3> + +<p>Trembling violently, she snatched the tiny bit of +gold from the bottom of the bowl, which fell to the +ground and broke at her feet, and then she saw her +own name engraved upon it. She looked long and +long at the token, and then, pulling a chain at her +neck, drew out her half of the ring with Colin’s name +engraved on it. “O stranger, tell me, is my husband +dead?” she asked, grasping the beggar’s arm. “Dead?” +he questioned, gazing tenderly at her; and at his tone +she looked straight into his eyes and knew him. +“My husband!” was all that she could say, but she +flung her arms around his neck and was clasped close +to his heart. The servants stood bewildered, but +in a moment their mistress had turned to them, +saying, “Run, summon all the household, bring them +all, for this is my husband, Black Colin of Loch Awe, +come home to me again.” When all in the castle knew +it there was great excitement and rejoicing, and they +feasted bountifully, for the wedding banquet had been +prepared.</p> + + +<h3>The Baron’s Flight</h3> + +<p>While the feast was in progress, and the happy wife +sat by her long-lost husband and held his hand, as +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +though she feared to let him leave her, a distant sound +of bagpipes was heard, and the lady remembered that +the Baron MacCorquodale would be coming for his +wedding, which she had entirely forgotten in her joy. +She laughed lightly to herself, and, beckoning a clansman, +bade him go and tell the Baron that she would take no +new husband, since her old one had come back to her, +and that there would be questions to be answered when +time served. The Baron MacCorquodale, in his wedding +finery, with a great party of henchmen and vassals and +pipers blowing a wedding march, had reached the mouth +of the river which enters the side of Loch Awe; the +party had crossed the river, and were ready to take +boat across to the Islet, when they saw a solitary man +rowing towards them with all speed. “It is some +messenger from my lady,” said the Baron, and he +waited eagerly to hear the message. With dreadful +consternation he listened to the unexpected words as +the clansman delivered them, and then bade the pipers +cease their music. “We must return; there will be +no wedding to-day, since Black Colin is home again,” +quoth he; and the crestfallen party retraced their steps, +quickening them more and more as they thought of the +vengeance of the long-lost chieftain; but they reached +their home in safety.</p> + + +<h3>Castle Kilchurn</h3> + +<p>In the meantime Colin had much to tell his wife of +his adventures, and to ask her of her life all these years. +They told each other all, and Colin saw the false letter +that had been sent to the Lady of Loch Awe, and guessed +who had plotted this deceit. His anger grew against +the bad man who had wrought this wrong and had so +nearly gained his end, and he vowed that he would +make the Baron dearly abide it. His wife calmed his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +fury somewhat by telling him how she had waited even +beyond the seven years, and what stratagem she had +used, and at last he promised not to make war on the +Baron, but to punish him in other ways.</p> + +<p>“Tell me what you have done with the rents of +Glenurchy these seven years,” said he. Then the +happy wife replied: “With part I have lived, with part +I have guarded the glen, and with part have I made a +cairn of stones at the head of Loch Awe. Will you +come with me and see it?” And Colin went, deeply +puzzled. When they came to the head of Loch Awe, +there stood the new castle, on the site of the old house +of the MacGregors; and the proud wife laughed as she +said: “Do you like my cairn of stones? It has taken +long to build.” Black Colin was much pleased with +the beautiful castle she had raised for him, and renamed +it Kilchurn Castle, which title it still keeps. True to +his vow, he took no bloody vengeance on the Baron +MacCorquodale, but when a few years after he fell +into his power the Knight of Loch Awe forced him to +resign a great part of his lands to be united with those +of Glenurchy.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIII: THE MARRIAGE OF +SIR GAWAYNE</h2> + + +<h3>Introduction</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE heroes of chivalry, from Roland the noble +paladin to Spenser’s Red-Cross Knight, have +many virtues to uphold, and their characteristics +are as varied as are the races which adopted chivalry +and embodied it in their hero-myths. It is a far cry +from the loyalty of Roland, in which love for his +emperor is the predominant characteristic, to the tender +and graceful reverence of Sir Calidore; but mediæval +Wales, which has preserved the Arthurian legend most +free from alien admixture, had a knight of courtesy quite +equal to Sir Calidore. Courage was one quality on the +possession of which these mediæval knights never prided +themselves, because they could not imagine life without +courage, but gentle courtesy was, unhappily, rare, and +many a heroic legend is spoilt by the insolence of the +hero to people of lower rank. Again, the legends often +look lightly on the ill-treatment of maidens; yet the +true hero is one who is never tempted to injure a +defenceless woman. Similarly, a broken oath to a +heathen or mere churl is excused as a trifling matter, +but the ideal hero sweareth and breaketh not, though it +be to his own hindrance.</p> + + +<h3>Sir Gawayne</h3> + +<p>The true Knight of Courtesy is Sir Gawayne, King +Arthur’s nephew, who in many ways overshadows his +more illustrious uncle. It is remarkable that the King +Arthur of the mediæval romances is either a mere +ordinary conqueror or a secondary figure set in the +background to heighten the achievements of his more +warlike followers. The latter is the conception of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +Arthur which we find in this legend of the gentle and +courteous Sir Gawayne.</p> + + +<h3>King Arthur Keeps Christmas</h3> + +<p>One year the noble King Arthur was keeping his +Christmas at Carlisle with great pomp and state. By +his side sat his lovely Queen Guenever, the brightest +and most beauteous bride that a king ever wedded, and +about him were gathered the Knights of the Round +Table. Never had a king assembled so goodly a +company of valiant warriors as now sat in due order at +the Round Table in the great hall of Carlisle Castle, +and King Arthur’s heart was filled with pride as he looked +on his heroes. There sat Sir Lancelot, not yet the +betrayer of his lord’s honour and happiness, with Sir +Bors and Sir Banier, there Sir Bedivere, loyal to King +Arthur till death, there surly Sir Kay, the churlish +steward of the king’s household, and King Arthur’s +nephews, the young and gallant Sir Gareth, the gentle +and courteous Sir Gawayne, and the false, gloomy Sir +Mordred, who wrought King Arthur’s overthrow. The +knights and ladies were ranged in their fitting degrees +and ranks, the servants and pages waited and carved +and filled the golden goblets, and the minstrels sang to +their harps lays of heroes of the olden time.</p> + + +<h3>His Discontent</h3> + +<p>Yet in the midst of all this splendour the king was +ill at ease, for he was a warlike knight and longed for +some new adventure, and of late none had been known. +Arthur sat moodily among his knights and drained the +wine-cup in silence, and Queen Guenever, gazing at +her husband, durst not interrupt his gloomy thoughts. +At last the king raised his head, and, striking the table +with his hand, exclaimed fiercely: “Are all my knights +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +sluggards or cowards, that none of them goes forth to +seek adventures? You are better fitted to feast well +in hall than fight well in field. Is my fame so greatly +decayed that no man cares to ask for my help or my +support against evildoers? I vow here, by the boar’s +head and by Our Lady, that I will not rise from this +table till some adventure be undertaken.” “Sire, your +loyal knights have gathered round you to keep the holy +Yuletide in your court,” replied Sir Lancelot; and Sir +Gawayne said: “Fair uncle, we are not cowards, but few +evildoers dare to show themselves under your rule; +hence it is that we seem idle. But see yonder! By +my faith, now cometh an adventure.”</p> + + +<h3>The Damsel’s Request</h3> + +<p>Even as Sir Gawayne spoke a fair damsel rode into +the hall, with flying hair and disordered dress, and, +dismounting from her steed, knelt down sobbing at +Arthur’s feet. She cried aloud, so that all heard her: +“A boon, a boon, King Arthur! I beg a boon of you!” +“What is your request?” said the king, for the maiden +was in great distress, and her tears filled his heart with +pity. “What would you have of me?” “I cry for +vengeance on a churlish knight, who has separated my +love from me.” “Tell your story quickly,” said King +Arthur; and all the knights listened while the lady +spoke.</p> + +<p>“I was betrothed to a gallant knight,” she said, +“whom I loved dearly, and we were entirely happy +until yesterday. Then as we rode out together +planning our marriage we came, through the moorland +ways, unnoticing, to a fair lake, Tarn Wathelan, where +stood a great castle, with streamers flying, and banners +waving in the wind. It seemed a strong and goodly +place, but alas! it stood on magic ground, and within +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +the enchanted circle of its shadow an evil spell fell on +every knight who set foot therein. As my love and I +looked idly at the mighty keep a horrible and churlish +warrior, twice the size of mortal man, rushed forth in +complete armour; grim and fierce-looking he was, +armed with a huge club, and sternly he bade my +knight leave me to him and go his way alone. Then +my love drew his sword to defend me, but the evil +spell had robbed him of all strength, and he could do +nought against the giant’s club; his sword fell from his +feeble hand, and the churlish knight, seizing him, caused +him to be flung into a dungeon. He then returned and +sorely ill-treated me, though I prayed for mercy in the +name of chivalry and of Mary Mother. At last, when +he set me free and bade me go, I said I would come +to King Arthur’s court and beg a champion of might +to avenge me, perhaps even the king himself. But +the giant only laughed aloud. ‘Tell the foolish +king,’ quoth he, ‘that here I stay his coming, and +that no fear of him shall stop my working my will on +all who come. Many knights have I in prison, some +of them King Arthur’s own true men; wherefore bid +him fight with me, if he will win them back.’ Thus, +laughing and jeering loudly at you, King Arthur, the +churlish knight returned to his castle, and I rode to +Carlisle as fast as I could.”</p> + + +<h3>King Arthur’s Vow</h3> + +<p>When the lady had ended her sorrowful tale all +present were greatly moved with indignation and pity, +but King Arthur felt the insult most deeply. He +sprang to his feet in great wrath, and cried aloud: “I +vow by my knighthood, and by the Holy Rood, that I +will go forth to find that proud giant, and will never +leave him till I have overcome him.” The knights +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +applauded their lord’s vow, but Queen Guenever looked +doubtfully at the king, for she had noticed the damsel’s +mention of magic, and she feared some evil adventure +for her husband. The damsel stayed in Carlisle that +night, and in the morning, after he had heard Mass, and +bidden farewell to his wife, King Arthur rode away. +It was a lonely journey to Tarn Wathelan, but the country +was very beautiful, though wild and rugged, and the king +soon saw the little lake gleaming clear and cold below +him, while the enchanted castle towered up above the +water, with banners flaunting defiantly in the wind.</p> + + +<h3>The Fight</h3> + +<p>The king drew his sword Excalibur and blew a loud +note on his bugle. Thrice his challenge note resounded, +but brought no reply, and then he cried aloud: “Come +forth, proud knight! King Arthur is here to punish +you for your misdeeds! Come forth and fight bravely. +If you are afraid, then come forth and yield yourself +my thrall.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr40.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_268" id="image_page_268"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“The King blew a loud note on his bugle”</p> + +<p>The churlish giant darted out at the summons, brandishing +his massive club, and rushed straight at King +Arthur. The spell of the enchanted ground seized the +king at that moment, and his hand sank down. Down +fell his good sword Excalibur, down fell his shield, and +he found himself ignominiously helpless in the presence +of his enemy.</p> + + +<h3>The Ransom</h3> + +<p>Now the giant cried aloud: “Yield or fight, King +Arthur; which will you do? If you fight I shall conquer +you, for you have no power to resist me; you will +be my prisoner, with no hope of ransom, will lose your +land and spend your life in my dungeon with many +other brave knights. If you yield I will hold you to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +ransom, but you must swear to accept the terms I +shall offer.”</p> + +<p>“What are they,” asked King Arthur. The giant +replied: “You must swear solemnly, by the Holy Rood, +that you will return here on New Year’s Day and +bring me a true answer to the question, ‘What thing +is it that all women most desire?’ If you fail to bring +the right answer your ransom is not paid, and you are +yet my prisoner. Do you accept my terms?” The +king had no alternative: so long as he stood on the +enchanted ground his courage was overborne by the +spell and he could only hold up his hand and swear by +the Sacred Cross and by Our Lady that he would return, +with such answers as he could obtain, on New Year’s Day.</p> + + +<h3>The King’s Search</h3> + +<p>Ashamed and humiliated, the king rode away, but +not back to Carlisle—he would not return home till he +had fulfilled his task; so he rode east and west and +north and south, and asked every woman and maid he +met the question the churlish knight had put to him. +“What is it all women most desire?” he asked, +and all gave him different replies: some said riches, +some splendour, some pomp and state; others declared +that fine attire was women’s chief delight, yet others +voted for mirth or flattery; some declared that a handsome +lover was the cherished wish of every woman’s +heart; and among them all the king grew quite bewildered. +He wrote down all the answers he received, +and sealed them with his own seal, to give to the churlish +knight when he returned to the Castle of Tarn Wathelan; +but in his own heart King Arthur felt that the true +answer had not yet been given to him. He was sad +as he turned and rode towards the giant’s home on New +Year’s Day, for he feared to lose his liberty and lands, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +and the lonely journey seemed much more dreary than +it had before, when he rode out from Carlisle so full of +hope and courage and self-confidence.</p> + + +<h3>The Loathly Lady</h3> + +<p>Arthur was riding mournfully through a lonely forest +when he heard a woman’s voice greeting him: “God +save you, King Arthur! God save and keep you!” +and he turned at once to see the person who thus +addressed him. He saw no one at all on his right hand, +but as he turned to the other side he perceived a +woman’s form clothed in brilliant scarlet; the figure was +seated between a holly-tree and an oak, and the berries +of the former were not more vivid than her dress, +and the brown leaves of the latter not more brown +and wrinkled than her cheeks. At first sight King +Arthur thought he must be bewitched—no such nightmare +of a human face had ever seemed to him possible. +Her nose was crooked and bent hideously to one side, +while her chin seemed to bend to the opposite side of +her face; her one eye was set deep under her beetling +brow, and her mouth was nought but a gaping slit. +Round this awful countenance hung snaky locks of +ragged grey hair, and she was deadly pale, with a bleared +and dimmed blue eye. The king nearly swooned when +he saw this hideous sight, and was so amazed that he +did not answer her salutation. The loathly lady seemed +angered by the insult: “Now Christ save you, King +Arthur! Who are you to refuse to answer my greeting +and take no heed of me? Little of courtesy have you +and your knights in your fine court in Carlisle if you +cannot return a lady’s greeting. Yet, Sir King, proud as +you are, it may be that I can help you, loathly though +I be; but I will do nought for one who will not be +courteous to me.”</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> + +<h3>The Lady’s Secret</h3> + +<p>King Arthur was ashamed of his lack of courtesy, +and tempted by the hint that here was a woman who +could help him. “Forgive me, lady,” said he; “I was +sorely troubled in mind, and thus, and not for want of +courtesy, did I miss your greeting. You say that you +can perhaps help me; if you would do this, lady, and +teach me how to pay my ransom, I will grant anything +you ask as a reward.” The deformed lady said: +“Swear to me, by Holy Rood, and by Mary Mother, +that you will grant me whatever boon I ask, and I will +help you to the secret. Yes, Sir King, I know by secret +means that you seek the answer to the question, ‘What +is it all women most desire?’ Many women have +given you many replies, but I alone, by my magic +power, can give you the right answer. This secret I +will tell you, and in truth it will pay your ransom, +when you have sworn to keep faith with me.” “Indeed, +O grim lady, the oath I will take gladly,” said +King Arthur; and when he had sworn it, with uplifted +hand, the lady told him the secret, and he vowed with +great bursts of laughter that this was indeed the right +answer.</p> + + +<h3>The Ransom</h3> + +<p>When the king had thoroughly realized the wisdom +of the answer he rode on to the Castle of Tarn Wathelan, +and blew his bugle three times. As it was New +Year’s Day, the churlish knight was ready for him, +and rushed forth, club in hand, ready to do battle. +“Sir Knight,” said the king, “I bring here writings +containing answers to your question; they are replies +that many women have given, and should be right; +these I bring in ransom for my life and lands.” The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +churlish knight took the writings and read them one +by one, and each one he flung aside, till all had been +read; then he said to the king: “You must yield +yourself and your lands to me, King Arthur, and rest +my prisoner; for though these answers be many and +wise, not one is the true reply to my question; your +ransom is not paid, and your life and all you have is +forfeit to me.” “Alas! Sir Knight,” quoth the king, +“stay your hand, and let me speak once more before I +yield to you; it is not much to grant to one who risks +life and kingdom and all. Give me leave to try one +more reply.” To this the giant assented, and King +Arthur continued: “This morning as I rode through +the forest I beheld a lady sitting, clad in scarlet, +between an oak and a holly-tree; she says, ‘All women +will have their own way, and this is their chief desire.’ +Now confess that I have brought the true answer to +your question, and that I am free, and have paid the +ransom for my life and lands.”</p> + + +<h3>The Price of the Ransom</h3> + +<p>The giant waxed furious with rage, and shouted: “A +curse upon that lady who told you this! It must have +been my sister, for none but she knew the answer. +Tell me, was she ugly and deformed?” When King +Arthur replied that she was a loathly lady, the giant +broke out: “I vow to heaven that if I can once catch +her I will burn her alive; for she has cheated me of +being King of Britain. Go your ways, Arthur; you +have not ransomed yourself, but the ransom is paid +and you are free.”</p> + +<p>Gladly the king rode back to the forest where the +loathly lady awaited him, and stopped to greet her. +“I am free now, lady, thanks to you! What boon do +you ask in reward for your help? I have promised to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +grant it you, whatever it may be.” “This is my boon +King Arthur, that you will bring some young and +courteous knight from your court in Carlisle to marry +me, and he must be brave and handsome too. You +have sworn to fulfil my request, and you cannot break +your word.” These last words were spoken as the +king shook his head and seemed on the point of refusing +a request so unreasonable; but at this reminder +he only hung his head and rode slowly away, while the +unlovely lady watched him with a look of mingled pain +and glee.</p> + + +<h3>King Arthur’s Return</h3> + +<p>On the second day of the new year King Arthur +came home to Carlisle. Wearily he rode along and dismounted +at the castle, and wearily he went into his +hall, where sat Queen Guenever. She had been very +anxious during her husband’s absence, for she dreaded +magic arts, but she greeted him gladly and said: “Welcome, +my dear lord and king, welcome home again! +What anxiety I have endured for you! But now you +are here all is well. What news do you bring, my +liege? Is the churlish knight conquered? Where +have you had him hanged, and where is his head? +Placed on a spike above some town-gate? Tell me +your tidings, and we will rejoice together.” King +Arthur only sighed heavily as he replied: “Alas! I +have boasted too much; the churlish knight was a giant +who has conquered me, and set me free on conditions.” +“My lord, tell me how this has chanced.” “His +castle is an enchanted one, standing on enchanted +ground, and surrounded with a circle of magic spells +which sap the bravery from a warrior’s mind and the +strength from his arm. When I came on his land and +felt the power of his mighty charms, I was unable to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +resist him, but fell into his power, and had to yield +myself to him. He released me on condition that I +would fulfil one thing which he bade me accomplish, +and this I was enabled to do by the help of a loathly +lady; but that help was dearly bought, and I cannot +pay the price myself.”</p> + + +<h3>Sir Gawayne’s Devotion</h3> + +<p>By this time Sir Gawayne, the king’s favourite +nephew, had entered the hall, and greeted his uncle +warmly; then, with a few rapid questions, he learnt +the king’s news, and saw that he was in some distress. +“What have you paid the loathly lady for her secret, +uncle?” he asked. “Alas! I have paid her nothing; +but I promised to grant her any boon she asked, and +she has asked a thing impossible.” “What is it?” +asked Sir Gawayne. “Since you have promised it, +the promise must needs be kept. Can I help you to +perform your vow?” “Yes, you can, fair nephew +Gawayne, but I will never ask you to do a thing so +terrible,” said King Arthur. “I am ready to do it, +uncle, were it to wed the loathly lady herself.” “That +is what she asks, that a fair young knight should marry +her. But she is too hideous and deformed; no man +could make her his wife.” “If that is all your grief,” +replied Sir Gawayne, “things shall soon be settled; +I will wed this ill-favoured dame, and will be your +ransom.” “You know not what you offer,” answered +the king. “I never saw so deformed a being. Her +speech is well enough, but her face is terrible, with +crooked nose and chin, and she has only one eye.” +“She must be an ill-favoured maiden; but I heed it +not,” said Sir Gawayne gallantly, “so that I can save +you from trouble and care.” “Thanks, dear Gawayne, +thanks a thousand times! Now through your devotion +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +I can keep my word. To-morrow we must fetch your +bride from her lonely lodging in the greenwood; but +we will feign some pretext for the journey. I will summon +a hunting party, with horse and hound and gallant +riders, and none shall know that we go to bring home so +ugly a bride.” “Gramercy, uncle,” said Sir Gawayne. +“Till to-morrow I am a free man.”</p> + + +<h3>The Hunting Party</h3> + +<p>The next day King Arthur summoned all the court +to go hunting in the greenwood close to Tarn Wathelan; +but he did not lead the chase near the castle: the +remembrance of his defeat and shame was too strong for +him to wish to see the place again. They roused a +noble stag and chased him far into the forest, where +they lost him amid close thickets of holly and yew interspersed +with oak copses and hazel bushes—bare were +the hazels, and brown and withered the clinging oak +leaves, but the holly looked cheery, with its fresh green +leaves and scarlet berries. Though the chase had been +fruitless, the train of knights laughed and talked gaily +as they rode back through the forest, and the gayest of +all was Sir Gawayne; he rode wildly down the forest +drives, so recklessly that he drew level with Sir Kay, +the churlish steward, who always preferred to ride alone. +Sir Lancelot, Sir Stephen, Sir Banier, and Sir Bors all +looked wonderingly at the reckless youth; but his +younger brother, Gareth, was troubled, for he knew all +was not well with Gawayne, and Sir Tristram, buried in +his love for Isolde, noticed nothing, but rode heedlessly +wrapped in sad musings.</p> + + +<h3>Sir Kay and the Loathly Lady</h3> + +<p>Suddenly Sir Kay reined up his steed, amazed; his +eye had caught the gleam of scarlet under the trees, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +as he looked he became aware of a woman, clad in a +dress of finest scarlet, sitting between a holly-tree and +an oak. “Good greeting to you, Sir Kay,” said the +lady, but the steward was too much amazed to answer. +Such a face as that of the lady he had never even +imagined, and he took no notice of her salutation. +By this time the rest of the knights had joined him, +and they all halted, looking in astonishment on the misshapen +face of the poor creature before them. It seemed +terrible that a woman’s figure should be surmounted by +such hideous features, and most of the knights were silent +for pity’s sake; but the steward soon recovered from +his amazement, and his rude nature began to show +itself. The king had not yet appeared, and Sir Kay +began to jeer aloud. “Now which of you would fain +woo yon fair lady?” he asked. “It takes a brave man, +for methinks he will stand in fear of any kiss he may +get, it must needs be such an awesome thing. But yet +I know not; any man who would kiss this beauteous +damsel may well miss the way to her mouth, +and his fate is not quite so dreadful after all. Come, +who will win a lovely bride!” Just then King Arthur +rode up, and at sight of him Sir Kay was silent; but the +loathly lady hid her face in her hands, and wept that he +should pour such scorn upon her.</p> + + +<h3>The Betrothal</h3> + +<p>Sir Gawayne was touched with compassion for this +uncomely woman alone among these gallant and handsome +knights, a woman so helpless and ill-favoured, +and he said: “Peace, churl Kay, the lady cannot help +herself; and you are not so noble and courteous that +you have the right to jeer at any maiden; such deeds +do not become a knight of Arthur’s Round Table. +Besides, one of us knights here must wed this +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +unfortunate lady.” “Wed her?” shouted Kay. “Gawayne, +you are mad!” “It is true, is it not, my liege?” +asked Sir Gawayne, turning to the king; and Arthur +reluctantly gave token of assent, saying, “I promised +her not long since, for the help she gave me in a great +distress, that I would grant her any boon she craved, +and she asked for a young and noble knight to be her +husband. My royal word is given, and I will keep it; +therefore have I brought you here to meet her.” Sir +Kay burst out with, “What? Ask me perchance to +wed this foul quean? I’ll none of her. Where’er I +get my wife from, were it from the fiend himself, this +hideous hag shall never be mine.” “Peace, Sir Kay,” +sternly said the king; “you shall not abuse this poor +lady as well as refuse her. Mend your speech, or you +shall be knight of mine no longer.” Then he turned +to the others and said: “Who will wed this lady and +help me to keep my royal pledge? You must not all +refuse, for my promise is given, and for a little ugliness +and deformity you shall not make me break my +plighted word of honour.” As he spoke he watched +them keenly, to see who would prove sufficiently +devoted, but the knights all began to excuse themselves +and to depart. They called their hounds, spurred +their steeds, and pretended to search for the track of +the lost stag again; but before they went Sir Gawayne +cried aloud: “Friends, cease your strife and debate, +for I will wed this lady myself. Lady, will you have +me for your husband?” Thus saying, he dismounted +and knelt before her.</p> + + +<h3>The Lady’s Words</h3> + +<p>The poor lady had at first no words to tell her gratitude +to Sir Gawayne, but when she had recovered a +little she spoke: “Alas! Sir Gawayne, I fear you do +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> +but jest. Will you wed with one so ugly and deformed +as I? What sort of wife should I be for a knight so +gay and gallant, so fair and comely as the king’s own +nephew? What will Queen Guenever and the ladies of +the Court say when you return to Carlisle bringing +with you such a bride? You will be shamed, and all +through me.” Then she wept bitterly, and her weeping +made her seem even more hideous; but King Arthur, +who was watching the scene, said: “Lady, I would fain +see that knight or dame who dares mock at my nephew’s +bride. I will take order that no such unknightly discourtesy +is shown in my court,” and he glared angrily +at Sir Kay and the others who had stayed, seeing that +Sir Gawayne was prepared to sacrifice himself and therefore +they were safe. The lady raised her head and looked +keenly at Sir Gawayne, who took her hand, saying: +“Lady, I will be a true and loyal husband to you if you +will have me; and I shall know how to guard my wife +from insult. Come, lady, and my uncle will announce +the betrothal.” Now the lady seemed to believe that Sir +Gawayne was in earnest, and she sprang to her feet, +saying: “Thanks to you! A thousand thanks, Sir +Gawayne, and blessings on your head! You shall +never rue this wedding, and the courtesy you have +shown. Wend we now to Carlisle.”</p> + + +<h3>The Journey to Carlisle</h3> + +<p>A horse with a side-saddle had been brought for +Sir Gawayne’s bride, but when the lady moved it became +evident that she was lame and halted in her +walk, and there was a slight hunch on her shoulders. +Both of these deformities showed little when she was +seated, but as she moved the knights looked at one +another, shrugged their shoulders and pitied Sir Gawayne, +whose courtesy had bound him for life to so deformed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +a wife. Then the whole train rode away together, the +bride between King Arthur and her betrothed, and all +the knights whispering and sneering behind them. Great +was the excitement in Carlisle to see that ugly dame, and +greater still the bewilderment in the court when they +were told that this loathly lady was Sir Gawayne’s +bride.</p> + + +<h3>The Bridal</h3> + +<p>Only Queen Guenever understood, and she showed +all courtesy to the deformed bride, and stood by her as +her lady-of-honour when the wedding took place that +evening, while King Arthur was groomsman to his +nephew. When the long banquet was over, and bride and +bridegroom no longer need sit side by side, the tables +were cleared and the hall was prepared for a dance, and +then men thought that Sir Gawayne would be free for +a time to talk with his friends; but he refused. “Bride +and bridegroom must tread the first dance together, if +she wishes it,” quoth he, and offered his lady his hand +for the dance. “I thank you, sweet husband,” said the +grim lady as she took it and moved forward to open +the dance with him; and through the long and stately +measure that followed, so perfect was his dignity, and +the courtesy and grace with which he danced, that no +man dreamt of smiling as the deformed lady moved +clumsily through the figures of the dance.</p> + + +<h3>Sir Gawayne’s Bride</h3> + +<p>At last the long evening was over, the last measure +danced, the last wine-cup drained, the bride escorted to +her chamber, the lights out, the guests separated in +their rooms, and Gawayne was free to think of what he +had done, and to consider how he had ruined his whole +hope of happiness. He thought of his uncle’s favour, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +of the poor lady’s gratitude, of the blessing she had +invoked upon him, and he determined to be gentle with +her, though he could never love her as his wife. He +entered the bride-chamber with the feeling of a man +who has made up his mind to endure, and did not even +look towards his bride, who sat awaiting him beside +the fire. Choosing a chair, he sat down and looked sadly +into the glowing embers and spoke no word.</p> + +<p>“Have you no word for me, husband? Can you +not even give me a glance?” asked the lady, and Sir +Gawayne turned his eyes to her where she sat; and +then he sprang up in amazement, for there sat no +loathly lady, no ugly and deformed being, but a maiden +young and lovely, with black eyes and long curls of +dark hair, with beautiful face and tall and graceful +figure. “Who are you, maiden?” asked Sir Gawayne; +and the fair one replied: “I am your wife, whom you +found between the oak and the holly-tree, and whom +you wedded this night.”</p> + + +<h3>Sir Gawayne’s Choice</h3> + +<p>“But how has this marvel come to pass?” asked he, +wondering, for the fair maiden was so lovely that he +marvelled that he had not known her beauty even +under that hideous disguise. “It is an enchantment +to which I am in bondage,” said she. “I am not yet +entirely free from it, but now for a time I may appear +to you as I really am. Is my lord content with his +loving bride?” asked she, with a little smile, as she +rose and stood before him. “Content!” he said, as +he clasped her in his arms. “I would not change my +dear lady for the fairest dame in Arthur’s court, not +though she were Queen Guenever herself. I am the +happiest knight that lives, for I thought to save my +uncle and help a hapless lady, and I have won my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +own happiness thereby. Truly I shall never rue the +day when I wedded you, dear heart.” Long they sat +and talked together, and then Sir Gawayne grew weary, +and would fain have slept, but his lady said: “Husband, +now a heavy choice awaits you. I am under the +spell of an evil witch, who has given me my own face +and form for half the day, and the hideous appearance +in which you first saw me for the other half. Choose +now whether you will have me fair by day and ugly by +night, or hideous by day and beauteous by night. The +choice is your own.”</p> + + +<h3>The Dilemma</h3> + +<p>Sir Gawayne was no longer oppressed with sleep; +the choice before him was too difficult. If the lady +remained hideous by day he would have to endure the +taunts of his fellows; if by night, he would be unhappy +himself. If the lady were fair by day other +men might woo her, and he himself would have no +love for her; if she were fair to him alone, his love +would make her look ridiculous before the court and +the king. Nevertheless, acting on the spur of the +moment, he spoke: “Oh, be fair to me only—be +your old self by day, and let me have my beauteous +wife to myself alone.” “Alas! is that your choice?” +she asked. “I only must be ugly when all are beautiful, +I must be despised when all other ladies are +admired; I am as fair as they, but I must seem foul +to all men. Is this your love, Sir Gawayne?” and +she turned from him and wept. Sir Gawayne was +filled with pity and remorse when he heard her lament, +and began to realize that he was studying his own +pleasure rather than his lady’s feelings, and his courtesy +and gentleness again won the upper hand. “Dear +love, if you would rather that men should see you +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +fair, I will choose that, though to me you will be +always as you are now. Be fair before others and +deformed to me alone, and men shall never know that +the enchantment is not wholly removed.”</p> + + +<h3>Sir Gawayne’s Decision</h3> + +<p>Now the lady looked pleased for a moment, and +then said gravely: “Have you thought of the danger +to which a young and lovely lady is exposed in the +court? There are many false knights who would woo +a fair dame, though her husband were the king’s +favourite nephew; and who can tell?—one of them +might please me more than you. Sure I am that many +will be sorry they refused to wed me when they see +me to-morrow morn. You must risk my beauty under +the guard of my virtue and wisdom, if you have me +young and fair.” She looked merrily at Sir Gawayne +as she spoke; but he considered seriously for a time, +and then said: “Nay, dear love, I will leave the matter +to you and your own wisdom, for you are wiser in this +matter than I. I remit this wholly unto you, to decide +according to your will. I will rest content with whatsoever +you resolve.”</p> + + +<h3>The Lady’s Story</h3> + +<p>Now the fair lady clapped her hands lightly, and +said: “Blessings on you, dear Gawayne, my own dear +lord and husband! Now you have released me from +the spell completely, and I shall always be as I am now, +fair and young, till old age shall change my beauty as +he doth that of all mortals. My father was a great duke +of high renown who had but one son and one daughter, +both of us dearly beloved, and both of goodly appearance. +When I had come to an age to be married my +father determined to take a new wife, and he wedded +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +a witch-lady. She resolved to rid herself of his two +children, and cast a spell upon us both, whereby I was +transformed from a fair lady into the hideous monster +whom you wedded, and my gallant young brother into +the churlish giant who dwells at Tarn Wathelan. She +condemned me to keep that awful shape until I married +a young and courtly knight who would grant me all +my will. You have done all this for me, and I shall be +always your fond and faithful wife. My brother too +is set free from the spell, and he will become again +one of the truest and most gentle knights alive, though +none can excel my own true knight, Sir Gawayne.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr41.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_282" id="image_page_282"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Now you have released me from the spell completely”</p> + + +<h3>The Surprise of the Knights</h3> + +<p>The next morning the knight and his bride descended +to the great hall, where many knights and ladies awaited +them, the former thinking scornfully of the hideous +hag whom Gawayne had wedded, the latter pitying so +young and gallant a knight, tied to a lady so ugly. But +both scorn and pity vanished when all saw the bride. +“Who is this fair dame?” asked Sir Kay. “Where +have you left your ancient bride?” asked another, and +all awaited the answer in great bewilderment. “This is +the lady to whom I was wedded yester evening,” replied +Sir Gawayne. “She was under an evil enchantment, which +has vanished now that she has come under the power of a +husband, and henceforth my fair wife will be one of the +most beauteous ladies of King Arthur’s court. Further, +my lord King Arthur, this fair lady has assured me that +the churlish knight of Tarn Wathelan, her brother, was +also under a spell, which is now broken, and he will be +once more a courteous and gallant knight, and the +ground on which his fortress stands will have henceforth +no magic power to quell the courage of any knight +alive. Dear liege and uncle, when I wedded yesterday +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> +the loathly lady I thought only of your happiness, and +in that way I have won my own lifelong bliss.”</p> + +<p>King Arthur’s joy at his nephew’s fair hap was great +for he had grieved sorely over Gawayne’s miserable +fate, and Queen Guenever welcomed the fair maiden as +warmly as she had the loathly lady, and the wedding +feast was renewed with greater magnificence, as a fitting +end to the Christmas festivities.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIV: KING HORN</h2> + + +<h3>Introduction</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>MONG the hero-legends which are considered +to be of native English growth and to have +come down to us from the times of the Danish +invasions is the story of King Horn; but although +“King Horn,” like “Havelok the Dane,” was originally +a story of Viking raids, it has been so altered that +the Norse element has been nearly obliterated. In all +but the bare circumstances of the tale, “King Horn” +is a romance of chivalry, permeated with the Crusading +spirit, and reflecting the life and customs of the thirteenth +century, instead of the more barbarous manners +of the eighth or ninth centuries. The hero’s desire to +obtain knighthood and do some deed worthy of the +honour, the readiness to leave his betrothed for long +years at the call of honour or duty, the embittered +feeling against the Saracens, are all typical of the +romance of the Crusades. Another curious point +which shows a later than Norse influence is the wooing +of the reluctant youth by the princess, of which there +are many instances in mediæval literature; it reveals +a consciousness of feudal rank which did not exist in +early times, and a certain recognition of the privileges +of royal birth which were not granted before the days +of romantic chivalry. King Horn himself is a hero of +the approved chivalric type, whose chief distinguishing +feature is his long indifference to the misfortunes of +the sorely-tried princess to whom he was betrothed.</p> + + +<h3>The Royal Family of Suddene</h3> + +<p>There once lived and ruled in the pleasant land of +Suddene a noble king named Murry, whose fair consort, +Queen Godhild, was the most sweet and gentle +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +lady alive, as the king was a pattern of all knightly +virtues. This royal pair had but one child, a son, +named Horn, now twelve years old, who had been +surrounded from his birth with loyal service and true +devotion. He had a band of twelve chosen companions +with whom he shared sports and tasks, pleasures and +griefs, and the little company grew up well trained in +chivalrous exercises and qualities. Childe Horn had +his favourites among the twelve. Athulf was his dearest +friend, a loving and devoted companion; and next to +him in Horn’s affection stood Fikenhild, whose outward +show of love covered his inward envy and hatred. In +everything these two were Childe Horn’s inseparable +comrades, and it seemed that an equal bond of love +united the three.</p> + + +<h3>The Saracen Invasion</h3> + +<p>One day as King Murry was riding over the cliffs by +the sea with only two knights in attendance he noticed +some unwonted commotion in a little creek not far +from where he was riding, and he at once turned his +horse’s head in that direction and galloped down to +the shore. On his arrival in the small harbour he saw +fifteen great ships of strange build, and their crews, +Saracens all armed for war, had already landed, and +were drawn up in warlike array. The odds against the +king were terrible, but he rode boldly to the invaders +and asked: “What brings you strangers here? Why +have you sought our land?” A Saracen leader, +gigantic of stature, spoke for them all and replied: +“We are here to win this land to the law of Mahomet +and to drive out the Christian law. We will slay all +the inhabitants that believe on Christ. Thou thyself +shalt be our first conquest, for thou shalt not leave +this place alive.” Thereupon the Saracens attacked +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +the little band, and though the three Christians fought +valiantly they were soon slain. The Saracens then +spread over the land, slaying, burning, and pillaging, +and forcing all who loved their lives to renounce the +Christian faith and become followers of Mahomet. +When Queen Godhild heard of her husband’s death +and saw the ruin of her people she fled from her +palace and all her friends and betook herself to a +solitary cave, where she lived unknown and undiscovered, +and continued her Christian worship while +the land was overrun with pagans. Ever she prayed +that God would protect her dear son, and bring him +at last to his father’s throne.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr42.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_288" id="image_page_288"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Queen Godhild prays ever for her son Horn</p> + + +<h3>Horn’s Escape</h3> + +<p>Soon after the king’s death the Saracens had captured +Childe Horn and his twelve comrades, and the boys +were brought before the pagan emir. They would all +have been slain at once or flayed alive, but for the +beauty of Childe Horn, for whose sake their lives were +spared. The old emir looked keenly at the lads, and +said: “Horn, thou art a bold and valiant youth, of +great stature for thine age, and of full strength, yet I +know thou hast not yet reached thy full growth. If +we release thee with thy companions, in years to come +we shall dearly rue it, for ye will become great champions +of the Christian law and will slay many of us. +Therefore ye must die. But we will not slay you with +our own hands, for ye are noble lads, and shall have +one feeble chance for your lives. Ye shall be placed in +a boat and driven out to sea, and if ye all are drowned +we shall not grieve overmuch. Either ye must die or +we, for I know we shall dearly abide your king’s death +if ye youths survive.” Thereupon the lads were all +taken to the shore, and, weeping and lamenting, were +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +thrust into a rudderless boat, which was towed out to +sea and left helpless.</p> + + +<h3>Arrival in Westernesse</h3> + +<p>The other boys sat lamenting and bewailing their +fate, but Childe Horn, looking round the boat, found a +pair of oars, and as he saw that the boat was in the +grasp of some strong current he rowed in the same +direction, so that the boat soon drifted out of sight of +land. The other lads were a dismal crew, for they +thought their death was certain, but Horn toiled hard +at his rowing all night, and with the dawn grew so +weary that he rested for a little on his oars. When the +rising sun made things clear, and he could see over the +crests of the waves, he stood up in the boat and uttered +a cry of joy. “Comrades,” cried he, “dear friends, I +see land not far away. I hear the sweet songs of birds +and see the soft green grass. We have come to some +unknown land and have saved our lives.” Then +Athulf took up the glad tidings and began to cheer the +forlorn little crew, and under Horn’s skilful guidance +the little boat grounded gently and safely on the sands +of Westernesse. The boys sprang on shore, all but +Childe Horn having no thought of the past night and +the journey; but he stood by the boat, looking sadly +at it.</p> + + +<h3>Farewell to the Boat</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Boat,’ quoth he, ‘which hast borne me on my way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have thou good days beside a summer sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May never wave prevail to sink thee deep!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, little boat, and when thou comest home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Greet well my mother, mournful Queen Godhild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell her, frail skiff, her dear son Horn is safe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Greet, too, the pagan lord, Mahomet’s thrall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bitter enemy of Jesus Christ,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And bid him know that I am safe and well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say I have reached a land beyond the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence, in God’s own good time, I will return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then he shall feel my vengeance for my sire.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Then sorrowfully he pushed the boat out into the +ocean, and the ebbing tide bore it away, while Horn +and his companions set their faces resolutely towards +the town they could see in the distance.</p> + + +<h3>King Ailmar and Childe Horn</h3> + +<p>As the little band were trudging wearily towards the +town they saw a knight riding towards them, and when +he came nearer they became aware that he must be +some noble of high rank. When he halted and began +to question them, Childe Horn recognised by his tone +and bearing that this must be the king. So indeed it +was, for King Ailmar of Westernesse was one of those +noble rulers who see for themselves the state of their +subjects and make their people happy by free, unrestrained +intercourse with them. When the king saw +the forlorn little company he said: “Whence are ye, +fair youths, so strong and comely of body? Never +have I seen so goodly a company of thirteen youths in +the realm of Westernesse. Tell me whence ye come, +and what ye seek.” Childe Horn assumed the office +of spokesman, for he was leader by birth, by courage, +and by intellect. “We are lads of noble families in +Suddene, sons of Christians and of men of lofty station. +Pagans have taken the land and slain our parents, and +we boys fell into their hands. These heathen have +slain and tortured many Christian men, but they had +pity upon us, and put us into an old boat with no sail +or rudder. So we drifted all night, until I saw your +land at dawn, and our boat came to the shore. Now +we are in your power, and you may do with us what +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +you will, but I pray you to have pity on us and to feed +us, that we may not perish utterly.”</p> + + +<h3>Ailmar’s Decision</h3> + +<p>King Ailmar was touched as greatly by the simple +boldness of the spokesman as by the hapless plight of +the little troop, and he answered, smiling: “Thou shalt +have nought but help and comfort, fair youth. But, I +pray thee, tell me thy name.” Horn answered +readily: “King, may all good betide thee! I am +named Horn, and I have come journeying in a boat on +the sea—now I am here in thy land.” King Ailmar replied: +“Horn! That is a good name: mayst thou well +enjoy it. Loud may this Horn sound over hill and +dale till the blast of so mighty a Horn shall be heard +in many lands from king to king, and its beauty and +strength be known in many countries. Horn, come +thou with me and be mine, for I love thee and will not +forsake thee.”</p> + + +<h3>Childe Horn at Court</h3> + +<p>The king rode home, and all the band of stranger +youths followed him on foot, but for Horn he ordered +a horse to be procured, so that the lad rode by his side; +and thus they came back to the court. When they +entered the hall he summoned his steward, a noble old +knight named Athelbrus, and gave the lads in charge to +him, saying, “Steward, take these foundlings of mine, +and train them well in the duties of pages, and later of +squires. Take especial care with the training of Childe +Horn, their chief; let him learn all thy knowledge of +woodcraft and fishing, of hunting and hawking, of harping +and singing; teach him how to carve before me, +and to serve the cup solemnly at banquets; make him +thy favourite pupil and train him to be a knight as good +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +as thyself. His companions thou mayst put into other +service, but Horn shall be my own page, and afterwards +my squire.” Athelbrus obeyed the king’s command, +and the thirteen youths soon found themselves set to +learn the duties of court life, and showed themselves +apt scholars, especially Childe Horn, who did his best +to satisfy the king and his steward on every point.</p> + + +<h3>The Princess Rymenhild</h3> + +<p>When Childe Horn had been at court for six years, +and was now a squire, he became known to all courtiers, +and all men loved him for his gentle courtesy and his +willingness to do any service. King Ailmar made no +secret of the fact that Horn was his favourite squire, +and the Princess Rymenhild, the king’s fair daughter, +loved him with all her heart. She was the heir to the +throne, and no man had ever gainsaid her will, and now +it seemed to her unreasonable that she should not be +allowed to wed a good and gallant youth whom she +loved. It was difficult for her to speak alone with him, +for she had six maiden attendants who waited on her +continually, and Horn was engaged with his duties +either in the hall, among the knights, or waiting on the +king. The difficulties only seemed to increase her +love, and she grew pale and wan, and looked miserable. +It seemed to her that if she waited longer her +love would never be happy, and in her impatience she +took a bold step.</p> + + +<h3>Athelbrus Deceives the Princess</h3> + +<p>She kept her chamber, called a messenger, and said +to him: “Go quickly to Athelbrus the steward, and bid +him come to me at once. Tell him to bring with him +the squire Childe Horn, for I am lying ill in my room, +and would be amused. Say I expect them quickly, for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +I am sad in mind, and have need of cheerful converse.” +The messenger bowed, and, withdrawing, delivered the +message exactly as he had received it to Athelbrus, who +was much perplexed thereby. He wondered whence +came this sudden illness, and what help Childe Horn +could give. It was an unusual thing for the squire to be +asked into a lady’s bower, and still more so into that of +a princess, and Athelbrus had already felt some suspicion +as to the sentiments of the royal lady towards +the gallant young squire. Considering all these things, +the cautious steward deemed it safer not to expose +young Horn to the risks that might arise from such an +interview, and therefore induced Athulf to wait upon +the princess and to endeavour to personate his more +distinguished companion. The plan succeeded beyond +expectation in the dimly lighted room, and the infatuated +princess soon startled the unsuspecting squire by a warm +and unreserved declaration of her affection. Recovering +from his natural amazement, he modestly disclaimed a +title to the royal favour and acknowledged his identity.</p> + +<p>On discovering her mistake the princess was torn by +conflicting emotions, but finally relieved the pressure +of self-reproach and the confusion of maiden modesty +by overwhelming the faithful steward with denunciation +and upbraiding, until at last, in desperation, the poor +man promised, against his better judgment, to bring +about a meeting between his love-lorn mistress and the +favoured squire.</p> + + +<h3>Athelbrus Summons Horn</h3> + +<p>When Rymenhild understood that Athelbrus would +fulfil her desire she was very glad and joyous; her +sorrow was turned into happy expectation, and she +looked kindly upon the old steward as she said: “Go +now quickly, and send him to me in the afternoon. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> +The king will go to the wood for sport and pastime, and +Horn can easily remain behind; then he can stay with +me till my father returns at eve. No one will betray +us; and when I have met my beloved I care not what +men may say.”</p> + +<p>Then the steward went down to the banqueting-hall, +where he found Childe Horn fulfilling his duties +as cup-bearer, pouring out and tasting the red wine in +the king’s golden goblet. King Ailmar asked many +questions about his daughter’s health, and when he learnt +that her malady was much abated he rose in gladness +from the table and summoned his courtiers to go with +him into the greenwood. Athelbrus bade Horn tarry, +and when the gay throng had passed from the hall the +steward said gravely: “Childe Horn, fair and courteous, +my beloved pupil, go now to the bower of the Princess +Rymenhild, and stay there to fulfil all her commands. +It may be thou shalt hear strange things, but keep rash +and bold words in thy heart, and let them not be upon +thy tongue. Horn, dear lad, be true and loyal now, +and thou shalt never repent it.”</p> + + +<h3>Horn and Rymenhild</h3> + +<p>Horn listened to this unusual speech with great +astonishment, but, since Sir Athelbrus spoke so solemnly, +he laid all his words to heart, and thus, marvelling +greatly, departed to the royal bower. When he had +knocked at the door, and had been bidden to come in, +entering, he found Rymenhild sitting in a great chair, +intently regarding him as he came into the room. He +knelt down to make obeisance to her, and kissed her +hand, saying, “Sweet be thy life and soft thy slumbers, +fair Princess Rymenhild! Well may it be with thy +gentle ladies of honour! I am here at thy command, +lady, for Sir Athelbrus the steward, bade me come to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> +speak with thee. Tell me thy will, and I will fulfil all +thy desires.” She arose from her seat, and, bending +towards him as he knelt, took him by the hand and +lifted him up, saying, “Arise and sit beside me, Childe +Horn, and we will drink this cup of wine together.” +In great astonishment the youth did as the princess +bade, and sat beside her, and soon, to his utter +amazement, Rymenhild avowed her love for him, and +offered him her hand. “Have pity on me, Horn, and +plight me thy troth, for in very truth I love thee, +and have loved thee long, and if thou wilt I will be thy +wife.”</p> + + +<h3>Horn Refuses the Princess</h3> + +<p>Now Horn was in evil case, for he saw full well +in what danger he would place the princess, Sir +Athelbrus, and himself if he accepted the proffer of +her love. He knew the reason of the steward’s +warning, and tried to think what he might say to +satisfy the princess and yet not be disloyal to the +king. At last he replied: “Christ save and keep +thee, my lady Rymenhild, and give thee joy of thy +husband, whosoever he may be! I am too lowly +born to be worthy of such a wife; I am a mere +foundling, living on thy father’s bounty. It is not +in the course of nature that such as I should wed +a king’s daughter, for there can be no equal match +between a princess and a landless squire.”</p> + +<p>Rymenhild was so disheartened and ashamed at this +reply to her loving appeal that her colour changed, she +turned deadly pale, began to sigh, flung her arms out +wildly, and fell down in a swoon. Childe Horn lifted +her up, full of pity for her deep distress, and began to +comfort her and try to revive her. As he held her in +his arms he kissed her often, and said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +<span class="i0">“‘Lady, dear love, take comfort and be strong!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I will yield me wholly to thy guidance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou wilt compass one great thing for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plead with King Ailmar that he dub me knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I may prove me worthy of thy love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon shall my knighthood be no idle dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will strive to do thy will, dear heart.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Now at these words Rymenhild awoke from her +swoon, and made him repeat his promise. She said: +“Ah! Horn, that shall speedily be done. Ere the +week is past thou shalt be Sir Horn, for my father +loves thee, and will grant the dignity most willingly to +one so dear to him. Go now quickly to Sir Athelbrus, +give him as a token of my gratitude this golden goblet +and this ring; pray him that he persuade the king to +dub thee knight. I will repay him with rich rewards +for his gentle courtesy to me. May Christ help him to +speed thee in thy desires!” Horn then took leave of +Rymenhild with great affection, and found Athelbrus, +to whom he delivered the gifts and the princess’s +message, which the steward received with due reverence.</p> + + +<h3>Horn Becomes a Knight</h3> + +<p>This plan seemed to Athelbrus very good, for it +raised Horn to be a member of the noble Order of +Knights, and would give him other chances of distinguishing +himself. Accordingly he went to the king as +he sat over the evening meal, and spoke thus: “Sir +King, hear my words, for I have counsel for thee. +To-morrow is the festival of thy birth, and the whole +realm of Westernesse must rejoice in its master’s joy. +Wear thou thy crown in solemn state, and I think it +were nought amiss if thou shouldst knight young +Horn, who will become a worthy defender of thy +throne.” “That were well done,” said King Ailmar. +“The youth pleases me, and I will knight him with +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +my own sword. Afterwards he shall knight his twelve +comrades the same day.”</p> + +<p>The next day the ceremony of knighting was performed +with all solemnity, and at its close a great +banquet was prepared and all men made merry. But +Princess Rymenhild was somewhat sad. She could +not descend to the hall and take her customary place, +for this was a feast for knights alone, and she would +not be without her betrothed one moment longer, so +she sent a messenger to fetch Sir Horn to her bower.</p> + + +<h3>Horn and Athulf Go to Rymenhild</h3> + +<p>Now that Horn was a newly dubbed knight he +would not allow the slightest shadow of dishonour +to cloud his conduct; accordingly, when he obeyed +Rymenhild’s summons he was accompanied by Athulf. +“Welcome, Sir Horn and Sir Athulf,” she cried, +holding out her hands in greeting. “Love, now that +thou hast thy will, keep thy plighted word and make +me thy wife; release me from my anxiety and do as +thou hast said.”</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Dear Rymenhild, hold thou thyself at peace,’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth young Sir Horn; ‘I will perform my vow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But first I must ride forth to prove my might;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must conquer hardships, and my own worse self,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere I can hope to woo and wed my bride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are but new-fledged knights of one day’s growth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet we know the custom of our state<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is first to fight and win a hero’s name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then afterwards to win a lady’s heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This day will I do bravely for thy love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And show my valour and my deep devotion<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In prowess ’gainst the foes of this thy land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I come back in peace, I claim my wife.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Rymenhild protested no longer, for she saw that +where honour was concerned Horn was inflexible. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +“My true knight,” said she, “I must in sooth believe +thee, and I feel that I may. Take this ring engraved +with my name, wrought by the most skilled worker of +our court, and wear it always, for it has magic virtues. +The gems are of such saving power that thou shalt fear +no strokes in battle, nor ever be cast down if thou gaze +on this ring and think of thy love. Athulf, too, shall +have a similar ring. And now, Horn, I commend thee +to God, and may Christ give thee good success and +bring thee back in safety!”</p> + + +<h3>Horn’s First Exploit</h3> + +<p>After taking an affectionate farewell of Rymenhild, +Horn went down to the hall, and, seeing all the other +new-made knights going in to the banquet, he slipped +quietly away and betook himself to the stables. There +he armed himself secretly and mounted his white +charger, which pranced and reared joyfully as he rode +away; and Horn began to sing for joy of heart, for he +had won his chief desire, and was happy in the love of +the king’s daughter. As he rode by the shore he saw +a stranger ship drawn up on the beach, and recognised +the banner and accoutrements of her Saracen crew, for he +had never forgotten the heathens who had slain his father. +“What brings you here?” he asked angrily, and as +fearlessly as King Murry had done, and received the +same answer: “We will conquer this land and slay the +inhabitants.” Then Horn’s anger rose, he gripped his +sword, and rushed boldly at the heathens, and slew +many of them, striking off a head at each blow. The +onslaught was so sudden that the Saracens were taken +by surprise at first, but then they rallied and surrounded +Horn, so that matters began to look dangerous for him. +Then he remembered the betrothal ring, and looked on +it, thinking earnestly of Rymenhild, his dear love, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +such courage came to him that he was able to defeat +the pagans and slay their leader. The others, sorely +wounded—for none escaped unhurt—hurried on board +ship and put to sea, and Horn, bearing the Saracen +leader’s head on his sword’s point, rode back to the +royal palace. Here he related to King Ailmar this +first exploit of his knighthood, and presented the head +of the foe to the king, who rejoiced greatly at Horn’s +valour and success.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 403px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr43.jpg" width="403" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_298" id="image_page_298"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Horn kills the Saracen leader</p> + + +<h3>Rymenhild’s Dream</h3> + +<p>The next day the king and all the court rode out +hunting, but Horn made an excuse to stay behind with +the princess, and the false and wily Fikenhild was also +left at home, and he crept secretly to Rymenhild’s +bower to spy on her. She was sitting weeping bitterly +when Sir Horn entered. He was amazed. “Love, for +mercy’s sake, why weepest thou so sorely?” he asked; +and she replied: “I have had a mournful dream. I +dreamt that I was casting a net and had caught a great +fish, which began to burst the net. I greatly fear that +I shall lose my chosen fish.” Then she looked sadly at +Horn. But the young knight was in a cheery mood, +and replied: “May Christ and St. Stephen turn thy +dream to good! If I am thy fish, I will never deceive +thee nor do aught to displease thee, and hereto I plight +thee my troth. But I would rather interpret thy dream +otherwise. This great fish which burst thy net is +some one who wishes us ill, and will do us harm soon.” +Yet in spite of Horn’s brave words it was a sad +betrothal, for Rymenhild wept bitterly, and her lover +could not stop her tears.</p> + + +<h3>Fikenhild’s False Accusation</h3> + +<p>Fikenhild had listened to all their conversation with +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +growing envy and anger, and now he stole away silently, +and met King Ailmar returning from the chase.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘King Ailmar,’ said the false one, ‘see, I bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A needed warning, that thou guard thyself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Horn will take thy life; I heard him vow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To slay thee, or by sword or fire, this night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou demand what cause of hate he has,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know that the villain wooes thine only child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Rymenhild, and hopes to wear thy crown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E’en now he tarries in the maiden’s bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he has often done, and talks with her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With guileful tongue, and cunning show of love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless thou banish him thou art not safe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In life or honour, for he knows no law.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The king at first refused to believe the envious +knight’s report, but, going to Rymenhild’s bower, he +found apparent confirmation, for Horn was comforting +the princess, and promising to wed her when he should +have done worthy feats of arms. The king’s wrath +knew no bounds, and with words of harsh reproach he +banished Horn at once, on pain of death. The young +knight armed himself quickly and returned to bid +farewell to his betrothed.</p> + + +<h3>Horn’s Banishment</h3> + +<p>“Dear heart,” said he, “now thy dream has come +true, and thy fish must needs break the net and be +gone. The enemy whom I foreboded has wrought us +woe. Farewell, mine own dear Rymenhild; I may no +longer stay, but must wander in alien lands. If I do +not return at the end of seven years take thyself a husband +and tarry no longer for me. And now take me +in your arms and kiss me, dear love, ere I go!” So +they kissed each other and bade farewell, and Horn +called to him his comrade Athulf, saying, “True and +faithful friend, guard well my dear love. Thou hast +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> +never forsaken me; now do thou keep Rymenhild for +me.” Then he rode away, and, reaching the haven, +hired a good ship and sailed for Ireland, where he took +service with King Thurston, under the name of Cuthbert. +In Ireland he became sworn brother to the +king’s two sons, Harold and Berild, for they loved him +from the first moment they saw him, and were in no +way jealous of his beauty and valour.</p> + + +<h3>Horn Slays the Giant Emir</h3> + +<p>When Christmas came, and King Thurston sat at the +banquet with all his lords, at noontide a giant strode +into the hall, bearing a message of defiance. He came +from the Saracens, and challenged any three Irish knights +to fight one Saracen champion. If the Irish won the +pagans would withdraw from Ireland; if the Irish +chiefs were slain the Saracens would hold the land. +The combat was to be decided the next day at dawn. +King Thurston accepted the challenge, and named +Harold, Berild, and Cuthbert (as Horn was called) as +the Christian champions, because they were the best +warriors in Ireland; but Horn begged permission to +speak, and said: “Sir King, it is not right that one man +should fight against three, and one heathen hound think +to resist three Christian warriors. I will fight and conquer +him alone, for I could as easily slay three of them.” +At last the king allowed Horn to attempt the combat +alone, and spent the night in sorrowful musing on the +result of the contest, while Horn slept well and arose +and armed himself cheerily. He then aroused the +king, and the Irish troop rode out to a fair and level +green lawn, where they found the emir with many +companions awaiting them. The combat began at +once, and Horn gave blows so mighty that the pagan +onlookers fell swooning through very fear, till Horn +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +said: “Now, knights, rest for a time, if it pleases you.” +Then the Saracens spoke together, saying aloud that no +man had ever so daunted them before except King +Murry of Suddene.</p> + +<p>This mention of his dead father aroused Horn, who +now realized that he saw before him his father’s +murderers. His anger was kindled, he looked at his +ring and thought of Rymenhild, and then, drawing his +sword again, he rushed at the heathen champion. The +giant fell pierced through the heart, and his companions +fled to their ships, hotly pursued by Horn and his +company. Much fighting there was, and in the hot +strife near the ships the king’s two sons, Harold and +Berild, were both slain.</p> + + +<h3>Horn Refuses the Throne</h3> + +<p>Sadly they were laid on a bier and brought back +to the palace, their sorrowful father lamenting their +early death; and when he had wept his fill the mournful +king came into the hall where all his knights silently +awaited him. Slowly he came up to Horn as he sat a +little apart from the rest, and said: “Cuthbert, wilt +thou fulfil my desire? My heirs are slain, and thou +art the best knight in Ireland for strength and beauty +and valour; I implore thee to wed Reynild, my only +daughter (now, alas! my only child), and to rule my +realm. Wilt thou do so, and lift the burden of my +cares from my weary shoulders?” But Horn replied: +“O Sir King, it were wrong for me to receive thy fair +daughter and heir and rule thy realm, as thou dost +offer. I shall do thee yet better service, my liege, +before I die; and I know that thy grief will change ere +seven years have passed away. When that time is +over, Sir King, give me my reward: thou shalt not +refuse me thy daughter when I desire her.” To this +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +King Thurston agreed, and Horn dwelt in Ireland for +seven years, and sent no word or token to Rymenhild +all the time.</p> + + +<h3>Rymenhild’s Distress</h3> + +<p>In the meantime Princess Rymenhild was in great +perplexity and trouble, for a powerful ruler, King Modi +of Reynes, wooed her for his wife, and her own betrothed +sent her no token of his life or love. Her +father accepted the new suitor for her hand, and the +day of the wedding was fixed, so that Rymenhild could +no longer delay her marriage. In her extremity she +besought Athulf to write letters to Horn, begging him +to return and claim his bride and protect her; and +these letters she delivered to several messengers, bidding +them search in all lands until they found Sir Horn +and gave the letters into his own hand. Horn knew +nought of this, till one day in the forest he met a weary +youth, all but exhausted, who told how he had sought +Horn in vain. When Horn declared himself, the +youth broke out into loud lamentations over Rymenhild’s +unhappy fate, and delivered the letter which +explained all her distress. Now it was Horn’s turn to +weep bitterly for his love’s troubles, and he bade the +messenger return to his mistress and tell her to cease +her tears, for Horn would be there in time to rescue +her from her hated bridegroom. The youth returned +joyfully, but as his boat neared the shore of Westernesse +a storm arose and the messenger was drowned; +so that Rymenhild, opening her tower door to look for +expected succour, found her messenger lying dead at +the foot of the tower, and felt that all hope was gone. +She wept and wrung her hands, but nothing that she +could do would avert the evil day.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Horn and King Thurston</h3> + +<p>As soon as Horn had read Rymenhild’s letter he +went to King Thurston and revealed the whole matter +to him. He told of his own royal parentage, his exile, +his knighthood, his betrothal to the princess, and his +banishment; then of the death of the Saracen leader +who had slain King Murry, and the vengeance he had +taken. Then he ended:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘King Thurston, be thou wise, and grant my boon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repay the service I have yielded thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help me to save my princess from this woe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will take counsel for fair Reynild’s fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she shall wed Sir Athulf, my best friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My truest comrade and my doughtiest knight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever I have risked my life for thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And proved myself in battle, grant my prayer.’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>To this the king replied: “Childe Horn, do what +thou wilt.”</p> + + +<h3>Horn Returns on the Wedding-day</h3> + +<p>Horn at once invited Irish knights to accompany him +to Westernesse to rescue his love from a hateful marriage, +and many came eagerly to fight in the cause of +the valiant Cuthbert who had defended Ireland for +seven years. Thus it was with a goodly company that +Horn took ship, and landed in King Ailmar’s realm; +and he came in a happy hour, for it was the wedding-day +of Princess Rymenhild and King Modi of Reynes. +The Irish knights landed and encamped in a wood, +while Horn went on alone to learn tidings. Meeting a +palmer, he asked the news, and the palmer replied: “I +have been at the wedding of Princess Rymenhild, and +a sad sight it was, for the bride was wedded against her +will, vowing she had a husband though he is a banished +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +man. She would take no ring nor utter any vows; but +the service was read, and afterwards King Modi took +her to a strong castle, where not even a palmer was +given entrance. I came away, for I could not endure +the pity of it. The bride sits weeping sorely, and if +report be true her heart is like to break with grief.”</p> + + +<h3>Horn Is Disguised as a Palmer</h3> + +<p>“Come, palmer,” said Horn, “lend me your cloak +and scrip. I must see this strange bridal, and it may +be I shall make some there repent of the wrong they +have done to a helpless maiden. I will essay to enter.” +The change was soon made, and Horn darkened his +face and hands as if bronzed with Eastern suns, bowed +his back, and gave his voice an old man’s feebleness, so +that no man would have known him; which done, he +made his way to King Modi’s new castle. Here he +begged admittance for charity’s sake, that he might +share the broken bits of the wedding feast; but he was +churlishly refused by the porter, who would not be +moved by any entreaties. At last Horn lost all patience, +and broke open the door, and threw the porter out +over the drawbridge into the moat; then, once more +assuming his disguise, he made his way into the hall +and sat down in the beggars’ row.</p> + + +<h3>The Recognition</h3> + +<p>Rymenhild was weeping still, and her stern husband +seemed only angered by her tears. Horn looked about +cautiously, but saw no sign of Athulf, his trusted +comrade; for he was at this time eagerly looking for +his friend’s coming from the lofty watch-tower, and +lamenting that he could guard the princess no longer. +At last, when the banquet was nearly over, Rymenhild +rose to pour out wine for the guests, as the custom was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +then; and she bore a horn of ale or wine along the +benches to each person there. Horn, sitting humbly +on the ground, called out: “Come, courteous Queen, +turn to me, for we beggars are thirsty folk.” Rymenhild +smiled sadly, and, setting down the horn, filled a +bowl with brown ale, for she thought him a drunkard. +“Here, drink this, and more besides, if thou wilt; I +never saw so bold a beggar,” she said. But Horn +refused. He handed the bowl to the other beggars, +and said: “Lady, I will drink nought but from a silver +cup, for I am not what you think me. I am no beggar, +but a fisher, come from afar to fish at thy wedding feast. +My net lies near by, and has lain there for seven years, +and I am come to see if it has caught any fish. Drink +to me, and drink to Horn from thy horn, for far have +I journeyed.”</p> + +<p>When the palmer spoke of fishing, and his seven-year-old +net, Rymenhild felt cold at heart; she did +not recognise him, but wondered greatly when he bade +her drink “to Horn.” She filled her cup and gave it +to the palmer, saying, “Drink thy fill, and then tell +me if thou hast ever seen Horn in thy wanderings.” +As the palmer drank, he dropped his ring into the cup; +then he returned it to Rymenhild, saying, “Queen, +seek out what is in thy draught.” She said nothing +then, but left the hall with her maidens and went to +her bower, where she found the well-remembered ring +she had given to Horn in token of betrothal. Greatly +she feared that Horn was dead, and sent for the palmer, +whom she questioned as to whence he had got the ring.</p> + + +<h3>Horn’s Stratagem</h3> + +<p>Horn thought he would test her love for him, since +she had not recognised him, so he replied: “By +St. Giles, lady, I have wandered many a mile, far +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +into realms of the West, and there I found Sir Horn +ready prepared to sail home to your land. He told +me that he planned to reach the realm of Westernesse +in time to see you before seven years had passed, and I +embarked with him. The winds were favourable and we +had a quick voyage, but, alas! he fell ill and died. When +he lay dying he begged me piteously, ‘Take this ring, +from which I have never been parted, to my dear lady +Rymenhild,’ and he kissed it many times and pressed it to +his breast. May God give his soul rest in Paradise!”</p> + +<p>When Rymenhild heard those terrible tidings she +sighed deeply and said: “O heart, burst now, for thou +shalt never more have Horn, for love of whom thou +hast been tormented so sorely!” Then she fell upon +her bed, and grasped the dagger which she had concealed +there; for if Horn did not come in time she +had planned to slay both her hateful lord and herself +that very night. Now, in her misery, she set the dagger +to her heart, and would have slain herself at once, had +not the palmer interrupted her. Rushing forward, he +exclaimed: “Dear Queen and lady, I am Horn, thine +own true love. Dost thou not recognise me? I am +Childe Horn of Westernesse. Take me in thy arms, +dear love, and kiss me welcome home.” As Rymenhild +stared incredulously at him, letting the dagger fall from +her trembling hand, he hurriedly cast away his disguise, +brushed off the disfiguring stain he had put on his +cheeks, and stood up straight and strong, her own noble +knight and lover. What joy they had together! How +they told each other of all their adventures and troubles, +and how they embraced and kissed each other!</p> + + +<h3>Horn Slays King Modi</h3> + +<p>When their joy had become calmer, Horn said to his +lady: “Dear Rymenhild, I must leave thee now, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +return to my knights, who are encamped in the forest. +Within an hour I will return to the feast and give +the king and his guests a stern lesson.” Then he flung +away the palmer’s cloak, and went forth in knightly +array; while the princess went up to the watch-tower, +where Athulf still scanned the sea for some sign of +Horn’s coming. Rymenhild said: “Sir Athulf, true +friend, go quickly to Horn, for he has arrived, and +with him he brings a great army.” The knight gladly +hastened to the courtyard, mounted his steed, and soon +overtook Horn. They were greatly rejoiced to meet +again, and had much to tell each other and to plan for +that day’s work.</p> + +<p>In the evening Horn and his army reached the castle, +where they found the gates undone for them by their +friends within, and in a short but desperate conflict +King Modi and all the guests at the banquet were +slain, except Rymenhild, her father, and Horn’s twelve +comrades. Then a new wedding was celebrated, for +King Ailmar durst not refuse his daughter to the +victor, and the bridal was now one of real rejoicing, +though the king was somewhat bitter of mood.</p> + + +<h3>Horn’s Departure</h3> + +<p>When the hours wore on to midnight, Horn, sitting +beside his bride, called for silence in the hall, and +addressed the king thus: “Sir King, I pray thee listen +to my tale, for I have much to say and much to explain. +My name is in sooth Horn, and I am the son of King +Murry of Suddene, who was slain by the Saracens. +Thou didst cherish me and give me knighthood, and I +proved myself a true knight on the very day when +I was dubbed. Thou didst love me then, but evil +men accused me to thee and I was banished. For seven +years I have lived in a strange land; but now that I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> +have returned, I have won thy fair daughter as my +bride. But I cannot dwell here in idleness while the +heathen hold my father’s land. I vow by the Holy +Rood that I will not rest, and will not claim my wife, +until I have purified Suddene from the infidel invaders, +and can lay its crown at Rymenhild’s feet. Do thou, +O King, guard well my wife till my return.”</p> + +<p>The king consented to this proposal, and, in spite of +Rymenhild’s grief, Horn immediately bade her farewell, +and with his whole army embarked for Suddene, this +time accompanied by Athulf, but leaving the rest of his +comrades for the protection of his wife.</p> + + +<h3>The Apostate Knight</h3> + +<p>The wind blew fair for Suddene, and the fleet reached +the port. The warriors disembarked, and marched inland, +to encamp for the night in a wood, where they +could be hidden. Horn and Athulf set out at midnight +to endeavour to obtain news of the foe, and soon found +a solitary knight sleeping. They awoke him roughly, +saying, “Knight, awake! Why sleepest thou here? +What dost thou guard?” The knight sprang lightly +from the ground, saw their faces and the shining crosses +on their shields, and cast down his eyes in shame, saying, +“Alas! I have served these pagans against my will. +In time gone by I was a Christian, but now I am a +coward renegade, who forsook his God for fear of death +at the hands of the Saracens! I hate my infidel masters, +but I fear them too, and they have forced me to guard +this district and keep watch against Horn’s return. If +he should come to his own again how glad I should +be! These infidels slew his father, and drove him into +exile, with his twelve comrades, among whom was my +own son, Athulf, who loved the prince as his own life. +If the prince is yet alive, and my son also, God grant +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +that I may see them both again! Then would I +joyfully die.”</p> + + +<h3>The Recognition</h3> + +<p>Horn answered quickly: “Sir Knight, be glad and +rejoice, for here are we, Horn and Athulf, come to +avenge my father and retake my realm from the +heathen.” Athulf’s father was overcome with joy and +shame; he hardly dared to embrace his son, yet the +bliss of meeting was so great that he clasped Athulf in +his arms and prayed his forgiveness for the disgrace +he had brought upon him. The two young knights +said nothing of his past weakness, but told him all their +own adventures, and at last he said: “What is your true +errand hither? Can you two alone slay the heathen? +Dear Childe Horn, what joy this will be to thy mother +Godhild, who still lives in a solitary retreat, praying for +thee and for the land!” Horn broke in on his speech +with “Blessed be the hour when I returned! Thank +God that my mother yet lives! We are not alone, but +I have an army of valiant Irish warriors, who will help +me to regain my realm.”</p> + + +<h3>The Reconquest of Suddene</h3> + +<p>Now the king blew his horn, and his host marched +out from the wood and prepared to attack the Saracens. +The news soon spread that Childe Horn had returned, +and many men who had accepted the faith of Mahomet +for fear of death now threw off the hated religion, +joined the true king’s army, and were rebaptized. The +war was not long, for the Saracens had made themselves +universally hated, and the inhabitants rose against +them; so that in a short time the country was purged +of the infidels, who were slain or fled to other lands. +Then Horn brought his mother from her retreat, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> +together they purified the churches which had been +desecrated, and restored the true faith. When the +land of Suddene was again a Christian realm King +Horn was crowned with solemn rites, and a great +coronation feast was held, which lasted too long for +Horn’s true happiness.</p> + + +<h3>Fikenhild Imprisons Rymenhild</h3> + +<p>During Horn’s absence from Westernesse, his comrades +watched carefully over Rymenhild; but her father, +who was growing old, had fallen much under the +influence of the plausible Fikenhild. From the day +when Fikenhild had falsely accused Horn to the king, +Ailmar had held him in honour as a loyal servant, and +now he had such power over the old ruler that when +he demanded Rymenhild’s hand in marriage, saying +that Horn was dead in Suddene, the king dared not +refuse, and the princess was bidden to make ready for +a new bridal. For this day Fikenhild had long been +prepared; he had built a massive fortress on a promontory, +which at high tide was surrounded by the sea, +but was easy of access at the ebb; thither he now led +the weeping princess, and began a wedding feast which +was to last all day, and to end only with the marriage +ceremony at night.</p> + + +<h3>Horn’s Dream</h3> + +<p>That same night, before the feast, King Horn had a +terrible dream. He thought he saw his wife taken +on board ship; soon the ship began to sink, and Rymenhild +held out her hands for rescue, but Fikenhild, +standing in safety on shore, beat her back into the +waves with his sword. With the agony of the sight +Horn awoke, and, calling his comrade Athulf, said: +“Friend, we must depart to-day. My wife is in danger +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +from false Fikenhild, whom I have trusted too much. +Let us delay no longer, but go at once. If God will, +I hope to release her, and to punish Fikenhild. God +grant we come in time!” With some few chosen +knights, King Horn and Athulf set out, and the ship +drove darkling through the sea, they knew not whither. +All the night they drifted on, and in the morning found +themselves beneath a newly built castle, which none of +them had seen before.</p> + + +<h3>Horn’s Disguise</h3> + +<p>While they were seeking to moor their boat to the +shore, one of the castle windows looking out to sea +opened, and they saw a knight standing and gazing seaward, +whom they speedily recognised; it was Athulf’s +cousin, Sir Arnoldin, one of the twelve comrades, who +had accompanied the princess thither in the hope that +he might yet save her from Fikenhild; he was now +looking, as a forlorn hope, over the sea, though he +believed Horn was dead. His joy was great when he +saw the knights, and he came out to them and speedily +told them of Rymenhild’s distress and the position of +affairs in the castle. King Horn was not at a loss for +an expedient even in this distress. He quickly disguised +himself and a few of his comrades as minstrels, +harpers, fiddlers, and jugglers. Then, rowing to the +mainland, he waited till low tide, and made his way +over the beach to the castle, accompanied by his disguised +comrades. Outside the castle walls they began +to play and sing, and Rymenhild heard them, and, +asking what the sounds were, gave orders that the +minstrels should be admitted. They sat on benches +low down the hall, tuning their harps and fiddles +and watching the bride, who seemed unhappy and +pale. When Horn sang a lay of true love and happiness, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +Rymenhild swooned for grief, and the king was +touched to the heart with bitter remorse that he had +tried her constancy so long, and had allowed her to +endure such hardships and misery for his sake.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr44.jpg" width="409" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_312" id="image_page_312"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Horn and his followers disguised as minstrels</p> + + +<h3>Death of Fikenhild</h3> + +<p>King Horn now glanced down and saw the ring of +betrothal on his finger, where he had worn it ever, except +that fateful day when he had given it as a token of +recognition to Rymenhild. He thought of his wife’s +sufferings, and his mind was made up. Springing from +the minstrels’ bench, he strode boldly up the hall, +throwing off his disguise, and, shouting, “I am King +Horn! False Fikenhild, thou shalt die!” he slew the +villain in the midst of his men. Horn’s comrades likewise +flung off their disguise, and soon overpowered the +few of the household who cared to fight in their dead +master’s cause. The castle was taken for King Ailmar, +who was persuaded to nominate Sir Arnoldin his heir, +and the baronage of Westernesse did homage to him as +the next king. Horn and his fair wife begged the good +old steward Sir Athelbrus to go with them to Suddene, +and on the way they touched at Ireland, where Reynild, +the king’s fair daughter, was induced to look favourably +on Sir Athulf and accept him for her husband. The +land of King Modi, which had now no ruler, was committed +to the care of Sir Athelbrus, and Horn and +Rymenhild at last reached Suddene, where the people +received their fair queen with great joy, and where they +dwelt in happiness till their lives’ end.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XV: ROBIN HOOD</h2> + + +<h3>Introduction</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">E</span>NGLAND during the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth +centuries was slowly taught the value +of firm administrative government. In Saxon +England, the keeping of the peace and the maintenance +of justice had been left largely to private and family enterprise +and to local and trading communities. In Norman +England, the royal authority was asserted throughout the +kingdom, though as yet the king had to depend in large +measure upon the co-operation of his barons and the help +of the burghers to supply the lack of a standing army and +an adequate police. Under the Plantagenets, the older +chivalry was slowly breaking up, and a new, wealthy +burgher and trading community was rapidly gaining +influence in the land; whilst the clergy, corrupted by +excess of wealth and power, had strained, almost to +breaking, the controlling force of religion. It was +therefore natural that in these latter days a class of +men should arise to avail themselves of the unique +opportunities of the time—men who, loving liberty and +hating oppression, took the law into their own hands and +executed a rough and ready justice between the rich and +the poor which embodied the best traditions of knight-errantry, +whilst they themselves lived a free and merry +life on the tolls they exacted from their wealthy victims. +Such a man may well have been the original Robin +Hood, a man who, when once he had captured the +popular imagination, soon acquired heroic reputation +and was credited with every daring deed and every magnanimous +action in two centuries of ‘freebooting.’</p> + + +<h3>Robin Hood Seeks a Guest</h3> + +<p>At one time Robin Hood lived in the noble forest of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +Barnesdale, in Yorkshire. He had but few of his merry +men with him, for his headquarters were in the glorious +forest of Sherwood. Just now, however, the Sheriff of +Nottinghamshire was less active in his endeavours to put +down the band of outlaws, and the leader had wandered +farther north than usual. Robin’s companions were his +three dearest comrades and most loyal followers, Little +John (so called because of his great stature), Will Scarlet, +Robin’s cousin, and Much, the miller’s son. These three +were all devoted to their leader, and never left his side, +except at such times as he sent them away on his business.</p> + +<p>On this day Robin was leaning against a tree, lost in +thought, and his three followers grew impatient; they +knew that before dinner could be served there were the +three customary Masses to hear, and their leader gave +no sign of being ready for Mass. Robin always heard +three Masses before his dinner, one of the Father, one +of the Holy Spirit, and the last of Our Lady, who was +his patron saint and protector. As the three yeomen +were growing hungry, Little John ventured to address +him. “Master, it would do you good if you would +dine early to-day, for you have fasted long.” Robin +aroused himself and smiled. “Ah, Little John, methinks +care for thine own appetite hath a share in that +speech, as well as care for me. But in sooth I care not +to dine alone. I would have a stranger guest, some +abbot or bishop or baron, who would pay us for our +hospitality. I will not dine till a guest be found, and +I leave it to you three to find him.” Robin turned +away, laughing at the crestfallen faces of his followers, +who had not counted on such a vague commission; +but Little John, quickly recovering himself, called to +him: “Master, tell us, before we leave you, where we +shall meet, and what sort of people we are to capture +and bring to you in the greenwood.”</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> + +<h3>The Outlaws’ Rules</h3> + +<p>“You know that already,” said their master. “You +are to do no harm to women, nor to any company in +which a woman is travelling; this is in honour of our +dear Lady. You are to be kind and gentle to husbandmen +and toilers of all degrees, to worthy knights and yeomen, +to gallant squires, and to all children and helpless +people; but sheriffs (especially him of Nottingham), +bishops, and prelates of all kinds, and usurers in Church +and State, you may regard as your enemies, and may +rob, beat, and despoil in any way. Meet me with your +guest at our great trysting oak in the forest, and be +speedy, for dinner must wait until the visitor has +arrived.” “Now may God send us a suitable traveller +soon,” said Little John, “for I am hungry for dinner +now.” “So am I,” said each of the others, and +Robin laughed again. “Go ye all three, with bows +and arrows in hand, and I will stay alone at the trysting +tree and await your coming. As no man passes this +way, you can walk up to the willow plantation and +take your stand on Watling Street; there you will +soon meet with likely travellers, and I will accept the +first who appears. I will find means to have dinner +ready against your return, and we will hope that our +visitor’s generosity will compensate us for the trouble +of cooking his dinner.”</p> + + +<h3>Robin Hood’s Guest</h3> + +<p>The three yeomen, taking their longbows in hand +and arrows in their belts, walked up through the willow +plantation to a place on Watling Street where another +road crossed it; but there was no one in sight. As +they stood with bows in hand, looking towards the +forest of Barnesdale, they saw in the distance a knight +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +riding in their direction. As he drew nearer they +were struck by his appearance, for he rode as a man +who had lost all interest in life; his clothes were +disordered, he looked neither to right nor left, but +drooped his head sadly, while one foot hung in the +stirrup and the other dangled slackly in the air. The +yeomen had never seen so doleful a rider; but, sad as +he was, this was a visitor and must be taken to Robin; +accordingly Little John stepped forward and caught the +horse by the bridle.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr45.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_316" id="image_page_316"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Little John caught the horse by the bridle”</p> + + +<h3>Little John Escorts the Knight</h3> + +<p>The knight raised his head and looked blankly at the +outlaw, who at once doffed his cap, saying, “Welcome, +Sir Knight! I give you, on my master’s behalf, a hearty +welcome to the greenwood. Gentle knight, come now +to my master, who hath waited three hours, fasting, +for your approach before he would dine. Dinner is +prepared, and only tarries your courteous appearance.” +The stranger knight seemed to consider this address +carefully, for he sighed deeply, and then said: “I cry +thee mercy, good fellow, for the delay, though I wot +not how I am the cause thereof. But who is thy +master?” Little John replied: “My master’s name is +Robin Hood, and I am sent to guide you to him.” The +knight said: “So Robin Hood is thy leader? I have +heard of him, and know him to be a good yeoman; +therefore I am ready to accompany thee, though, in +good sooth, I had intended to eat my midday meal at +Blythe or Doncaster to-day. But it matters little where +a broken man dines!”</p> + + +<h3>Robin Hood’s Feast</h3> + +<p>The three yeomen conducted the knight along the +forest ways to the trysting oak where Robin awaited +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +them. As they went they observed that the knight +was weeping silently for some great distress, but their +courtesy forbade them to make any show of noticing +his grief. When the appointed spot was reached, Robin +stepped forward and courteously greeted his guest, +with head uncovered and bended knee, and welcomed +him gladly to the wild greenwood. “Welcome, Sir +Knight, to our greenwood feast! I have waited three +hours for a guest, and now Our Lady has sent you to +me we can dine, after we have heard Mass.” The +knight said nothing but, “God save you, good Robin, +and all your merry men”; and then very devoutly they +heard the three Masses, sung by Friar Tuck. By this +time others of the outlaw band had appeared, having +returned from various errands, and a gay company sat +down to a banquet as good as any the knight had ever +eaten.</p> + + +<h3>Robin Converses with the Knight</h3> + +<p>There was abundance of good things—venison and +game of all kinds, swans and river-fowl and fish, with +bread and good wine. Every one seemed joyous, and +merry jests went round that jovial company, till even +the careworn guest began to smile, and then to laugh +outright. At this Robin was well pleased, for he saw that +his visitor was a good man, and was glad to have lifted +the burden of his care, even if only for a few minutes; +so he smiled cheerfully at the knight and said: “Be +merry, Sir Knight, I pray, and eat heartily of our food, +for it is with great goodwill that we offer it to you.” +“Thanks, good Robin,” replied the knight. “I have +enjoyed my dinner to-day greatly; for three weeks I +have not had so good a meal. If I ever pass by this +way again I will do my best to repay you in kind; as good +a dinner will I try to provide as you have given me.”</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Robin Demands Payment</h3> + +<p>The outlaw chief seemed to be affronted by this +suggestion, and replied, with a touch of pride in his +manner: “Thanks for your proffer, Sir Knight, but, +by Heaven! no man has ever yet deemed me a glutton. +While I eat one dinner I am not accustomed to look +eagerly for another—one is enough for me. But as +for you, my guest, I think it only fitting that you +should pay before you go; a yeoman was never meant +to pay for a knight’s banquet.” The knight blushed, +and looked confused for a moment, and then said: +“True, Robin, and gladly would I reward you for my +entertainment, but I have no money worth offering; +even all I have would not be worthy of your acceptance, +and I should be shamed in your eyes, and those of your +men.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 421px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr46.jpg" width="421" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_320" id="image_page_320"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“I have no money worth offering”</p> + + +<h3>The Knight’s Poverty</h3> + +<p>“Is that the truth?” asked Robin, making a sign to +Little John, who arose, and, going to the knight’s steed, +unstrapped a small coffer, which he brought back and +placed before his master. “Search it, Little John,” +said he, and “You, sir, tell me the very truth, by your +honour as a belted knight.” “It is truth, on my +honour, that I have but ten shillings,” replied the +knight, “and if Little John searches he will find no +more.” “Open the coffer,” said Robin, and Little John +took it away to the other side of the trysting oak, +where he emptied its contents on his outspread cloak, +and found exactly ten shillings. Returning to his +master, who sat at his ease, drinking and gaily conversing +with his anxious guest, Little John whispered: +“The knight has told the truth,” and thereupon Robin +exclaimed aloud: “Sir Knight, I will not take one +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +penny from you; you may rather borrow of me if you +have need of more money, for ten shillings is but a +miserable sum for a knight. But tell me now, if it be +your pleasure, how you come to be in such distress.” +As he looked inquiringly at the stranger, whose blush +had faded once, only to be renewed as he found his +word of honour doubted, he noticed how thin and +threadbare were his clothes and how worn his russet +leather shoes; and he was grieved to see so noble-seeming +a man in such a plight.</p> + + +<h3>The Knight’s Story</h3> + +<p>Yet Robin meant to fathom the cause of the knight’s +trouble, for then, perhaps, he would be able to help him, +so he continued pitilessly: “Tell me just one word, +which I will keep secret from all other men: were you +driven by compulsion to take up knighthood, or urged +to beg it by reason of the ownership of some small +estate; or have you wasted your old inheritance with +fines for brawling and strife, or in gambling and riotousness, +or in borrowing at usury? All of these are fatal +to a good estate.”</p> + +<p>The knight replied: “Alas! good Robin, none of +these hath been my undoing. My ancestors have all +been knights for over a hundred years, and I have not +lived wastefully, but soberly and sparely. As short a +time ago as last year I had over four hundred pounds +saved, which I could spend freely among my neighbours, +and my income was four hundred pounds a year, from +my land; but now my only possessions are my wife and +children. This is the work of God’s hand, and to Him I +commit me to amend my estate in His own good time.”</p> + + +<h3>How the Money was Lost</h3> + +<p>“But how have you so soon lost this great wealth?” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +asked Robin incredulously; and the knight replied +sadly: “Ah, Robin, you have no son, or you would +know that a father will give up all to save his first-born. +I have one gallant son, and when I went on the Crusade +with our noble Prince Edward I left him at home to +guard my lands, for he was twenty years old, and was a +brave and comely youth. When I returned, after two +years’ absence, it was to find him in great danger, for in +a public tournament he had slain in open fight a knight +of Lancashire and a bold young squire. He would +have died a shameful death had I not spent all my +ready money and other property to save him from +prison, for his enemies were mighty and unjust; and +even that was not enough, for I was forced to mortgage +my estates for more money. All my land lies in pledge +to the abbot of St. Mary’s Abbey, in York, and I have +no hope to redeem it. I was riding to York when +your men found me.”</p> + + +<h3>The Sum Required</h3> + +<p>“For what sum is your land pledged?” asked the +master-outlaw; and the knight replied: “The Abbot lent +me four hundred pounds, though the value of the land +is far beyond that.” “What will you do if you fail +to redeem your land?” asked Robin. “I shall leave +England at once, and journey once more to Jerusalem, +and tread again the sacred Hill of Calvary, and never +more return to my native land. That will be my fate, +for I see no likelihood of repaying the loan, and I will +not stay to see strangers holding my father’s land. Farewell, +my friend Robin, farewell to you all! Keep the +ten shillings; I would have paid more if I could, but +that is the best I can give you.” “Have you no +friends at home?” asked Robin; and the knight said: +“Many friends I thought I had, sir. They were very +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +kind and helpful in my days of prosperity, when I did not +need them; now they will not know me, so much has +my poverty seemed to alter my face and appearance.”</p> + + +<h3>Robin Offers a Loan</h3> + +<p>This pitiful story touched the hearts of the simple and +kindly outlaws; they wept for pity, and cared not to hide +their tears from each other, until Robin made them all +pledge their guest in bumpers of good red wine. Then +their chief asked, as if continuing his own train of thought: +“Have you any friends who will act as sureties for the +repayment of the loan?” “None at all,” replied the +knight hopelessly, “but God Himself, who suffered +on the Tree for us.” This last reply angered Robin, +who thought it savoured too much of companionship +with the fat and hypocritical monks whom he hated, +and he retorted sharply: “No such tricks for me! Do +you think I will take such a surety, or even one of the +saints, in return for good solid gold? Get some more +substantial surety, or no gold shall you have from me. +I cannot afford to waste my money.”</p> + + +<h3>The Knight Offers Surety</h3> + +<p>The knight replied, sighing heavily: “If you will +not take these I have no earthly surety to offer; and in +Heaven there is only our dear Lady. I have served +her truly, and she has never failed me till now, when +her servant, the abbot, is playing me so cruel a trick.” +“Do you give Our Lady as your surety?” said Robin +Hood. “I would take her bond for any sum, for +throughout all England you could find no better surety +than our dear Lady, who has always been gracious to +me. She is enough security. Go, Little John, to my +treasury and bring me four hundred pounds, well +counted, with no false or clipped coin therein.”</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Robin Hood’s Gifts</h3> + +<p>Little John, accompanied by Much, the careful +treasurer of the band, went quickly to the secret place +where the master-outlaw kept his gold. Very carefully +they counted out the coins, testing each, to see that it +was of full weight and value. Then, on the suggestion +of Little John, they provided the knight with new +clothing, even to boots and spurs, and finally supplied +him with two splendid horses, one for riding and one +to carry his baggage and the coffer of gold.</p> + +<p>The guest watched all these preparations with bewildered +eyes, and turned to Robin, crying, “Why +have you done all this for me, a perfect stranger?” +“You are no stranger, but Our Lady’s messenger. She +sent you to me, and Heaven grant you may prove true.”</p> + + +<h3>The Bond of Repayment</h3> + +<p>“God grant it,” echoed the knight. “But, Robin, +when shall I repay this loan, and where? Set me a +day, and I will keep it.” “Here,” replied the outlaw, +“under this greenwood tree, and in a twelvemonth’s +time; so will you have time to regain your friends and +gather your rents from your redeemed lands. Now +farewell, Sir Knight; and since it is not meet for a +worthy knight to journey unattended, I will lend you +also my comrade, Little John, to be your squire, and +to do you yeoman service, if need be.” The knight +bade farewell to Robin and his generous followers, and +was turning to ride away, when he suddenly stopped +and addressed the master-outlaw: “In faith, good +Robin, I had forgotten one thing. You know not my +name. I am Sir Richard of the Lea, and my land lies +in Uterysdale.” “As for that,” said Robin Hood, “I +trouble not myself. You are Our Lady’s messenger; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> +that is enough for me.” So Sir Richard rode gladly +away, blessing the generous outlaw who lent him money +to redeem his land, and a stout yeoman to defend the +loan.</p> + + +<h3>Sir Richard’s Journey</h3> + +<p>As the knight and his new servant rode on, Sir +Richard called to his man, saying, “I must by all +means be in York to-morrow, to pay the abbot of +St. Mary’s four hundred pounds; if I fail of my day +I shall lose my land and lordship for ever”; and Little +John answered: “Fear not, master; we will surely be +there in time enough.” Then they rode on, and reached +York early on the last day of the appointed time.</p> + + +<h3>The Abbot and Prior of St. Mary’s</h3> + +<p>In the meantime the abbot of St. Mary’s was +counting that Sir Richard’s lands were safely his; he +had no pity for the poor unlucky knight, but rather +exulted in the legal cruelty which he could inflict. +Very joyfully he called aloud, early that morn: “A +twelvemonth ago to-day we lent four hundred pounds +to a needy knight, Sir Richard of the Lea, and unless +he comes by noon to-day to repay the money he will +lose all his land and be disinherited, and our abbey will +be the richer by a fat estate, worth four hundred pounds +a year. Our Lady grant that he keep not his day.” +“Shame on you!” cried the prior. “This poor knight +may be ill, or beyond the sea; he may be in hunger +and cold as well as poverty, and it will be a foul +wrong if you declare his land forfeit.”</p> + +<p>“This is the set day,” replied the abbot, “and he is +not here.” “You dare not escheat his estates yet,” +replied the prior stubbornly. “It is too early in the +day; until noon the lands are still Sir Richard’s, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +no man shall take them ere the clock strikes. Shame +on your conscience and your greed, to do a good knight +such foul wrong! I would willingly pay a hundred +pounds myself to prevent it.”</p> + +<p>“Beshrew your meddlesome temper!” cried the +abbot. “You are always crossing me! But I have +with me the Lord Chief Justice, and he will declare my +legal right.” Just at that moment the high cellarer +of the abbey entered to congratulate the abbot on Sir +Richard’s absence. “He is dead or ill, and we shall +have the spending of four hundred pounds a year,” +quoth he.</p> + + +<h3>Sir Richard Returns</h3> + +<p>On his arrival Sir Richard had quietly gone round to +his old tenants in York, and had a goodly company of +them ready to ride with him, but he was minded to test +the charity and true religion of the abbot, and bade his +followers assume pilgrims’ robes. Thus attired, the +company rode to the abbey gate, where the porter recognised +Sir Richard, and the news of his coming, carried +to the abbot and justice, caused them great grief; but +the prior rejoiced, hoping that a cruel injustice would +be prevented. As they dismounted the porter loudly +called grooms to lead the horses into the stable and +have them relieved of their burdens, but Sir Richard +would not allow it, and left Little John to watch over +them at the abbey portal.</p> + + +<h3>The Abbot and Sir Richard</h3> + +<p>Then Sir Richard came humbly into the hall, where +a great banquet was in progress, and knelt down in +courteous salutation to the abbot and his guests; but +the prelate, who had made up his mind what conduct +to adopt, greeted him coldly, and many men did not +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> +return his salutation at all. Sir Richard spoke aloud: +“Rejoice, Sir Abbot, for I am come to keep my day.” +“That is well,” replied the monk, “but hast thou +brought the money?” “No money have I, not one +penny,” continued Sir Richard sadly. “Pledge me in +good red wine, Sir Justice,” cried the abbot callously; +“the land is mine. And what dost thou here, Sir +Richard, a broken man, with no money to pay thy +debt?” “I am come to beg you to grant me a longer +time for repayment.” “Not one minute past the appointed +hour,” said the exultant prelate. “Thou hast +broken pledge, and thy land is forfeit.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr47.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_324" id="image_page_324"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Sir Richard knelt in courteous salutation”</p> + + +<h3>Sir Richard Implores the Justice</h3> + +<p>Still kneeling, Sir Richard turned to the justice and +said: “Good Sir Justice, be my friend and plead for +me.” “No,” he replied, “I hold to the law, and can +give thee no help.” “Gentle abbot, have pity on me, +and let me have my land again, and I will be the humble +servant of your monastery till I have repaid in full your +four hundred pounds.” Then the cruel prelate swore +a terrible oath that never should the knight have his +land again, and no one in the hall would speak for +him, kneeling there poor, friendless, and alone; so at +last he began to threaten violence. “Unless I have +my land again,” quoth he, “some of you here shall +dearly abide it. Now may I see the poor man has no +friends, for none will stand by me in my need.”</p> + + +<h3>The Justice Suggests a Compromise</h3> + +<p>The hint of violence made the abbot furiously +angry, and, secure in his position and the support of +the justice, he shouted loudly: “Out, thou false knight! +Out of my hall!” Then at last Sir Richard rose to his +feet in just wrath. “Thou liest, Sir Abbot; foully thou +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> +liest! I was never a false knight. In joust and +tourney I have adventured as far and as boldly as any +man alive. There is no true courtesy in thee, abbot, +to suffer a knight to kneel so long.” The quarrel now +seemed so serious that the justice intervened, saying to +the angry prelate, “What will you give me if I persuade +him to sign a legal deed of release? Without it you +will never hold this land in peace.” “You shall have a +hundred pounds for yourself,” said the abbot, and the +justice nodded in token of assent.</p> + + +<h3>Sir Richard Pays the Money</h3> + +<p>Now Sir Richard thought it was time to drop the +mask, for noon was nigh, and he would not risk his +land again. Accordingly he cried: “Nay, but not so +easily shall ye have my lands. Even if you were to pay +a thousand pounds more you should not hold my +father’s estate. Have here your money back again”; +and, calling for Little John, he bade him bring into the +hall his coffer with the bags inside. Then he counted +out on the table four hundred good golden pounds, +and said sternly: “Abbot, here is your money again. +Had you but been courteous to me I would have rewarded +you well; now take your money, give me +a quittance, and I will take my lands once more. Ye +are all witnesses that I have kept my day and have paid +in full.” Thereupon Sir Richard strode haughtily out +of the hall, and rode home gladly to his recovered +lands in Uterysdale, where he and his family ever +prayed for Robin Hood. The abbot of St. Mary’s +was bitterly enraged, for he had lost the fair lands +of Sir Richard of the Lea and had received a bare +four hundred pounds again. As for Little John, +he went back to the forest and told his master the +whole story, to Robin Hood’s great satisfaction, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +for he enjoyed the chance of thwarting the schemes of +a wealthy and usurious prelate.</p> + + +<h3>Sir Richard Sets Out to Repay the Loan</h3> + +<p>When a year had passed all but a few days, Sir +Richard of the Lea said to his wife: “Lady, I must +shortly go to Barnesdale to repay Robin Hood the loan +which saved my lands, and would fain take him some small +gift in addition; what do you advise?” “Sir Richard, +I would take a hundred bows of Spanish yew and a +hundred sheaves of arrows, peacock-feathered, or grey-goose-feathered; +methinks that will be to Robin a +most acceptable gift.”</p> + +<p>Sir Richard followed his wife’s advice, and on the +morning of the appointed day set out to keep his tryst +at the outlaws’ oak in Barnesdale, with the money duly +counted, and the bows and arrows for his present to +the outlaw chief.</p> + + +<h3>The Wrestling</h3> + +<p>As he rode, however, at the head of his troop he +passed through a village where there was a wrestling +contest, which he stayed to watch. He soon saw that +the victorious wrestler, who was a stranger to the +village, would be defrauded of his well-earned prize, +which consisted of a white bull, a noble charger gaily +caparisoned, a gold ring, a pipe of wine, and a pair of +embroidered gloves. This seemed so wrong to Sir +Richard that he stayed to defend the right, for love of +Robin Hood and of justice, and kept the wrestling ring +in awe with his well-appointed troop of men, so that +the stranger was allowed to claim his prize and carry it +off. Sir Richard, anxious not to arouse the hostility of +the villagers, bought the pipe of wine from the winner, +and, setting it abroach, allowed all who would to drink; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> +and so, in a tumult of cheers and blessings, he rode +away to keep his tryst. By this time, however, it was +nearly three in the afternoon, and he should have been +there at twelve. He comforted himself with the thought +that Robin would forgive the delay, for the sake of its +cause, and so rode on comfortably enough at the head +of his gallant company.</p> + + +<h3>Robin’s Impatience</h3> + +<p>In the meantime Robin had waited patiently at the +trysting tree till noon, but when the hour passed +and Sir Richard had not appeared he began to grow +impatient. “Master, let us dine,” said Little John. +“I cannot; I fear Our Lady is angered with me, +for she has not sent me my money,” returned the +leader; but his follower replied: “The money is not +due till sunset, master, and Our Lady is true, and so is +Sir Richard; have no fear.” “Do you three walk up +through the willow plantation to Watling Street, as +you did last year, and bring me a guest,” said Robin +Hood. “He may be a messenger, a minstrel, a poor +man, but he will come in God’s name.”</p> + + +<h3>The Monks Approach</h3> + +<p>Again the three yeomen, Little John, Will Scarlet, +and Much the miller’s son, took bow in hand and set +out for Watling Street; but this time they had not long +to wait, for they at once saw a little procession approaching. +Two black monks rode at the head; then followed +seven sumpter-mules and a train of fifty-two men, so +that the clerics rode in almost royal state. “Seest +thou yon monks?” said Little John. “I will pledge +my soul that they have brought our pay.” “But they +are fifty-four, and we are but three,” said Scarlet. +“Unless we bring them to dinner we dare not face +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> +our master,” cried Little John. “Look well to your +bows, your strings and arrows, and have stout hearts +and steady hands. I will take the foremost monk, for +life or death.”</p> + + +<h3>The Capture of the Black Monk</h3> + +<p>The three outlaws stepped out into the road from +the shelter of the wood; they bent their bows and +held their arrows on the string, and Little John cried +aloud: “Stay, churlish monk, or thou goest to thy +death, and it will be on thine own head! Evil on +thee for keeping our master fasting so long.” “Who +is your master?” asked the bewildered monk; and +Little John replied: “Robin Hood.” The monk tossed +his head. “He is a foul thief,” cried he, “and will +come to a bad end. I have heard no good of him all +my days.” So speaking, he tried to ride forward and +trample down the three yeomen; but Little John cried: +“Thou liest, churlish monk, and thou shalt rue the lie. +He is a good yeoman of this forest, and has bidden +thee to dine with him this day”; and Much, drawing +his bow, shot the monk to the heart, so that he fell to +the ground dead. The other black monk was taken, +but all his followers fled, except a little page, and a +groom who tended the sumpter-mules; and thus, with +Little John’s help and guidance, the panic-stricken +cleric and his train of baggage were brought to Robin +under the trysting tree.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr48.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_330" id="image_page_330"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Much shot the monk to the heart”</p> + + +<h3>The Outlaws’ Feast</h3> + +<p>Robin Hood doffed his cap and greeted his guest +with all courtesy, but the monk would not reply, and +Little John’s account of their meeting made it evident +that he was a churlish and unwilling guest. However, +he was obliged to celebrate the three usual Masses, was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> +given water for his ablutions before the banquet, and +then when the whole fellowship was assembled he was +set in the place of honour at the feast, and reverently +served by Robin himself. “Be of good cheer, Sir +Monk,” said Robin. “Where is your abbey when you +are at home, and who is your patron saint?” “I am +of St. Mary’s Abbey, in York, and, simple though I be, +I am the high cellarer.”</p> + + +<h3>The High Cellarer and the Suretyship</h3> + +<p>“For Our Lady’s sake,” said Robin, “we will give +this monk the best of cheer. Drink to me, Sir Monk; +the wine is good. But I fear Our Lady is wroth with +me, for she has not sent me my money.” “Fear not, +master,” returned Little John; “this monk is her +cellarer, and no doubt she has made him her messenger +and he carries our money with him.” “That is +likely,” replied Robin. “Sir Monk, Our Lady was +surety for a little loan between a good knight and me, +and to-day the money was to be repaid. If you have +brought it, pay it to me now, and I will thank you +heartily.” The monk was quite amazed, and cried +aloud: “I have never heard of such a suretyship”; +and as he spoke he looked so anxiously at his +sumpter-mules that Robin guessed there was gold in +their pack-saddles.</p> + + +<h3>The Monk is Searched</h3> + +<p>Accordingly the leader feigned sudden anger. “Sir +Monk, how dare you defame our dear Lady? She +is always true and faithful, and as you say you are +her servant, no doubt she has made you her messenger +to bring my money. Tell me truly how much +you have in your coffers, and I will thank you for +coming so punctually.” The monk replied: “Sir, I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> +have only twenty marks in my bags”; to which Robin +answered: “If that be all, and you have told the truth +I will not touch one penny; rather will I lend you some +if you need it; but if I find more, I will leave none, +Sir Monk, for a religious man should have no silver to +spend in luxury.” Now the monk looked very greatly +alarmed, but he dared make no protest, as Little John +began to search his bags and coffers.</p> + + +<h3>Success of the Search</h3> + +<p>When Little John opened the first coffer he emptied +its contents, as before, into his cloak, and counted eight +hundred pounds, with which he went to Robin Hood, +saying, “Master, the monk has told the truth; here +are twenty marks of his own, and eight hundred pounds +which Our Lady has sent you in return for your loan.” +When Robin heard that he cried to the miserable +monk: “Did I not say so, monk? Is not Our Lady +the best surety a man could have? Has she not repaid +me twice? Go back to your abbey and say that if ever +St. Mary’s monks need a friend they shall find one in +Robin Hood.”</p> + + +<h3>The Monk Departs</h3> + +<p>“Where were you journeying?” asked the outlaw +leader. “To settle accounts with the bailiffs of our +manors,” replied the cellarer; but he was in truth +journeying to London, to obtain powers from the king +against Sir Richard of the Lea. Robin thought for a +moment, and then said: “Ah, then we must search +your other coffer,” and in spite of the cellarer’s indignant +protests he was deprived of all the money +that second coffer contained. Then he was allowed +to depart, vowing bitterly that a dinner in Blythe or +Doncaster would have cost him much less dear.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Sir Richard Arrives</h3> + +<p>Late that afternoon Sir Richard of the Lea and his +little company arrived at the trysting tree, and full +courteously the knight greeted his deliverer and +apologised for his delay. Robin asked of his welfare, +and the knight told of his protection of the poor +wrestler, for which Robin thanked him warmly. When +he would fain have repaid the loan the generous outlaw +refused to accept the money, though he took with +hearty thanks the bows and arrows. In answer to the +knight’s inquiries, Robin said that he had been paid +the money twice over before he came; and he told, +to his debtor’s great amusement, the story of the high +cellarer and his eight hundred pounds, and concluded: +“Our Lady owed me no more than four hundred +pounds, and she now gives you, by me, the other four +hundred. Take them, with her blessing, and if ever +you need more come to Robin Hood.”</p> + +<p>So Sir Richard returned to Uterysdale, and long +continued to use his power to protect the bold outlaws, +and Robin Hood dwelt securely in the greenwood, +doing good to the poor and worthy, but acting as a +thorn in the sides of all oppressors and tyrants.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVI: HEREWARD THE WAKE</h2> + + +<h3>Introduction</h3> + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>N dealing with hero-legends and myths we are sometimes +confronted with the curious fact that a hero +whose name and date can be ascertained with exactitude +has yet in his story mythological elements which +seem to belong to all the ages. This anomaly arises +chiefly from the fact that the imagination of a people is a +myth-making thing, and that the more truly popular the +hero the more likely he is to become the centre of a +whole cycle of myths, which are in different ages +attached to the heroes of different periods. The folk-lore +of primitive races is a great storehouse whence a +people can choose tales and heroic deeds to glorify its +own national hero, careless that the same tales and deeds +have done duty for other peoples and other heroes. +Hence it happens that Hereward the Saxon, a patriot +hero as real and actual as Wellington or Nelson, whose +deeds were recorded in prose and verse within forty +years of his death, was even then surrounded by a cloud +of romance and mystery, which hid in vagueness his +family, his marriage, and even his death.</p> + + +<h3>The Saxon Patriot</h3> + +<p>Hereward was, naturally, the darling hero of the +Saxons, and for the patriotism of his splendid defence +of Ely they forgave his final surrender to William the +Norman; then they attributed to him all the virtues +supposed to be inherent in the free-born, and all the +glorious valour on which the English prided themselves; +and, lastly, they surrounded his death with a +halo of desperate fighting, and made his last conflict as +wonderful as that of Roland at Roncesvalles. If Roland +is the ideal of Norman feudal chivalry, Hereward is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> +equally the ideal of Anglo-Saxon sturdy manliness and +knighthood, and it seems fitting that the Saxon ideal in +the individual should go down before the representatives, +however unworthy, of a higher ideal.</p> + + +<h3>Leofric of Mercia</h3> + +<p>When the weak but saintly King Edward the +Confessor nominally ruled all England the land was +divided into four great earldoms, of which Mercia and +Kent were held by two powerful rivals. Leofric of +Mercia and Godwin of Kent were jealous not only for +themselves, but for their families, of each other’s power +and wealth, and the sons of Leofric and of Godwin were +ever at strife, though the two earls were now old and +prudent men, whose wars were fought with words and +craft, not with swords. The wives of the two great +earls were as different as their lords. The Lady Gytha, +Godwin’s wife, of the royal Danish race, was fierce and +haughty, a fit helpmeet for the ambitious earl who +was to undermine the strength of England by his +efforts to win kingly power for his children. But the +Lady Godiva, Leofric’s beloved wife, was a gentle, +pious, loving woman, who had already won an almost +saintly reputation for sympathy and pity by her sacrifice +to save her husband’s oppressed citizens at Coventry, +where her pleading won relief for them from the harsh +earl on the pitiless condition of her never-forgotten +ride. Happily her gentle self-suppression awoke a +nobler spirit in her husband, and enabled him to +play a worthier part in England’s history. She was +in entire sympathy with the religious aspirations of +Edward the Confessor, and would gladly have seen +one of her sons become a monk, perhaps to win +spiritual power and a saintly reputation like those of +the great Dunstan.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 414px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr49.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_334" id="image_page_334"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">“Her pleading won relief for them”</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Hereward’s Youth</h3> + +<p>For this holy vocation she fixed on her second son, +Hereward, a wild, wayward lad, with long golden curls, +eyes of different colours, one grey, one blue, great +breadth and strength of limb, and a wild and ungovernable +temper which made him difficult of control. This +reckless lad the Lady Godiva vainly tried to educate +for the monkish life, but he utterly refused to adopt +her scheme, would not master any but the barest +rudiments of learning, and spent his time in wrestling, +boxing, fighting and all manly exercises. Despairing +of making him an ecclesiastic, his mother set herself to +inspire him with a noble ideal of knighthood, but his +wildness and recklessness increased with his years, and +often his mother had to stand between the riotous lad +and his father’s deserved anger.</p> + + +<h3>His Strength and Leadership</h3> + +<p>When he reached the age of sixteen or seventeen he +became the terror of the Fen Country, for at his father’s +Hall of Bourne he gathered a band of youths as wild +and reckless as himself, who accepted him for their +leader, and obeyed him implicitly, however outrageous +were his commands. The wise Earl Leofric, who was +much at court with the saintly king, understood little +of the nature of his second son, and looked upon his +wild deeds as evidence of a cruel and lawless mind, a +menace to the peace of England, while they were in +reality but the tokens of a restless energy for which +the comparatively peaceable life of England at that +time was all too dull and tame.</p> + + +<h3>Leofric and Hereward</h3> + +<p>Frequent were the disputes between father and son, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> +and sadly did Lady Godiva forebode an evil ending to +the clash of warring natures whenever Hereward and +his father met; yet she could do nothing to avert +disaster, for though her entreaties would soften the lad +into penitence for some mad prank or reckless outrage, +one hint of cold blame from his father would suffice to +make him hardened and impenitent; and so things +drifted from bad to worse. In all Hereward’s lawless +deeds, however, there was no meanness or crafty malice. +He hated monks and played many a rough trick upon +them, but took his punishment, when it came, with +equable cheerfulness; he robbed merchants with a high +hand, but made reparation liberally, counting himself +well satisfied with the fun of a fight or the skill of a +clever trick; his band of youths met and fought other +bands, but they bore no malice when the strife was +over. In one point only was Hereward less than true +to his own nobility of character—he was jealous of +admitting that any man was his superior in strength +or comeliness, and his vanity was well supported by his +extraordinary might and beauty.</p> + + +<h3>Hereward at Court</h3> + +<p>The deeds which brought Earl Leofric’s wrath upon +his son in a terrible fashion were not matters of wanton +wickedness, but of lawless personal violence. Called to +attend his father to the Confessor’s court, the youth, +who had little respect for one so unwarlike as “the +miracle-monger,” uttered his contempt for saintly king, +Norman prelate, and studious monks too loudly, and +thereby shocked the weakly devout Edward, who +thought piety the whole duty of man. But his wildness +touched the king more nearly still; for in his sturdy +patriotism he hated the Norman favourites and courtiers +who surrounded the Confessor, and again and again his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> +marvellous strength was shown in the personal injuries +he inflicted on the Normans in mere boyish brawls, +until at last his father could endure the disgrace no +longer.</p> + + +<h3>Hereward’s Exile</h3> + +<p>Begging an audience of the king, Leofric formally +asked for a writ of outlawry against his own son. The +Confessor, surprised, but not displeased, felt some compunction +as he saw the father’s affection overborne by +the judge’s severity. Earl Godwin, Leofric’s greatest +rival, was present in the council, and his pleading for +the noble lad, whose faults were only those of youth, was +sufficient to make Leofric more urgent in his petition. +The curse of family feud, which afterwards laid England +prostrate at the foot of the Conqueror, was already felt, +and felt so strongly that Hereward resented Godwin’s +intercession more than his father’s sternness.</p> + + +<h3>Hereward’s Farewell</h3> + +<p>“What!” he cried, “shall a son of Leofric, the noblest +man in England, accept intercession from Godwin or +any of his family? No. I may be unworthy of my +wise father and my saintly mother, but I am not yet sunk +so low as to ask a favour from a Godwin. Father, I +thank you. For years I have fretted against the peace +of the land, and thus have incurred your displeasure; +but in exile I may range abroad and win my fortune at +the sword’s point.” “Win thy fortune, foolish boy!” +said his father. “And whither wilt thou fare?” “Wherever +fate and my fortune lead me,” he replied recklessly. +“Perhaps to join Harald Hardrada at Constantinople +and become one of the Emperor’s Varangian Guard; +perhaps to follow old Beowa out into the West, at the +end of some day of glorious battle; perhaps to fight +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> +giants and dragons and all kinds of monsters. All +these things I may do, but never shall Mercia see me +again till England calls me home. Farewell, father; +farewell, Earl Godwin; farewell, reverend king. I go. +And pray ye that ye may never need my arm, for it +may hap that ye will call me and I will not come.” +Then Hereward rode away, followed into exile by one +man only, Martin Lightfoot, who left the father’s +service for that of his outlawed son. It was when +attending the king’s court on this occasion that Hereward +first saw and felt the charm of a lovely little +Saxon maiden named Alftruda, a ward of the pious +king.</p> + + +<h3>Hereward in Northumbria</h3> + +<p>Though the king’s writ of outlawry might run in +Mercia, it did not carry more than nominal weight in +Northumbria, where Earl Siward ruled almost as an +independent lord. Thither Hereward determined to +go, for there dwelt his own godfather, Gilbert of Ghent, +and his castle was known as a good training school for +young aspirants for knighthood. Sailing from Dover, +Hereward landed at Whitby, and made his way to +Gilbert’s castle, where he was well received, since the +cunning Fleming knew that an outlawry could be +reversed at any time, and Leofric’s son might yet come +to rule England. Accordingly Hereward was enrolled +in the number of young men, mainly Normans or +Flemings, who were seeking to perfect themselves in +chivalry before taking knighthood. He soon showed +himself a brave warrior, an unequalled wrestler, and a +wary fighter, and soon no one cared to meddle with the +young Mercian, who outdid them all in manly sports. +The envy of the young Normans was held in check by +Gilbert, and by a wholesome dread of Hereward’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> +strong arm; until, in Gilbert’s absence, an incident +occurred which placed the young exile on a pinnacle so +far above them that only by his death could they hope +to rid themselves of their feeling of inferiority.</p> + + +<h3>The Fairy Bear</h3> + +<p>Gilbert kept in his castle court an immense white +Polar bear, dreaded by all for its enormous strength, +and called the Fairy Bear. It was even believed that +the huge beast had some kinship to old Earl Siward, +who bore a bear upon his crest, and was reputed to +have had something of bear-like ferocity in his youth. +This white bear was so much dreaded that he was kept +chained up in a strong cage. One morning as Hereward +was returning with Martin from his morning ride he +heard shouts and shrieks from the castle yard, and, +reaching the great gate, entered lightly and closed it +behind him rapidly, for there outside the shattered cage, +with broken chain dangling, stood the Fairy Bear, +glaring savagely round the courtyard. But one human +figure was in sight, that of a girl of about twelve years +of age.</p> + + +<h3>Hereward Slays the Bear</h3> + +<p>There were sounds of men’s voices and women’s +shrieks from within the castle, but the doors were +fast barred, while the maid, in her terror, beat on +the portal with her palms, and begged them, for the +love of God, to let her in. The cowards, refused, +and in the meantime the great bear, irritated by the +dangling chain, made a rush towards the child. +Hereward dashed forward, shouting to distract the +bear, and just managed to stop his charge at the girl. +The savage animal turned on the new-comer, who +needed all his agility to escape the monster’s terrible +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> +onset. Seizing his battle-axe, the youth swung it +around his head and split the skull of the furious +beast, which fell dead. It was a blow so mighty that +even Hereward himself was surprised at its deadly effect, +and approached cautiously to examine his victim. In +the meantime the little girl, who proved to be no other +than the king’s ward, Alftruda, had watched with +fascinated eyes first the approach of the monster, and +then, as she crouched in terror, its sudden slaughter; +and now she summoned up courage to run to Hereward, +who had always been kind to the pretty child, and to +fling herself into his arms. “Kind Hereward,” she +whispered, “you have saved me and killed the bear. +I love you for it, and I must give you a kiss, for my +dame says so do all ladies that choose good knights to +be their champions. Will you be mine?” As she +spoke she kissed Hereward again and again.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 414px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr50.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_340" id="image_page_340"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Alftruda</p> + + +<h3>Hereward’s Trick on the Knights</h3> + +<p>“Where have they all gone, little one?” asked the +young noble; and Alftruda replied: “We were all out +here in the courtyard watching the young men at their +exercises, when we heard a crash and a roar, and the +cage burst open, and we saw the dreadful Fairy Bear. +They all ran, the ladies and knights, but I was the last, +and they were so frightened that they shut themselves +in and left me outside; and when I beat at the door +and prayed them to let me in they would not, and I +thought the bear would eat me, till you came.”</p> + +<p>“The cowards!” cried Hereward. “And they think +themselves worthy of knighthood when they will save +their own lives and leave a child in danger! They +must be taught a lesson. Martin, come hither and aid +me.” When Martin came, the two, with infinite trouble, +raised the carcase of the monstrous beast, and placed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> +it just where the bower door, opening, would show it +at once. Then Hereward bade Alftruda call to the +knights in the bower that all was safe and they could +come out, for the bear would not hurt them. He and +Martin, listening, heard with great glee the bitter +debate within the bower as to who should risk his life to +open the door, the many excuses given for refusal, the +mischievous fun in Alftruda’s voice as she begged some +one to open to her, and, best of all, the cry of horror +with which the knight who had ventured to draw the bolt +shut the door again on seeing the Fairy Bear waiting to +enter. Hereward even carried his trick so far as to +thrust the bear heavily against the bower door, making +all the people within shriek and implore the protection +of the saints. Finally, when he was tired of the jest, he +convinced the valiant knights that they might emerge +safely from their retirement, and showed how he, a +stripling of seventeen, had slain the monster at one blow. +From that time Hereward was the darling of the whole +castle, petted, praised, beloved by all its inmates, except +his jealous rivals.</p> + + +<h3>Hereward Leaves Northumbria</h3> + +<p>The foreign knights grew so jealous of the Saxon +youth, and so restive under his shafts of sarcastic ridicule, +that they planned several times to kill him, and once or +twice nearly succeeded. This insecurity, and a feeling +that perhaps Earl Siward had some kinship with the +Fairy Bear, and would wish to avenge his death, made +Hereward decide to quit Gilbert’s castle. The spirit of +adventure was strong upon him, the sea seemed to call +him; now that he had been acknowledged superior to +the other noble youths in Gilbert’s household, the +castle no longer afforded a field for his ambition. +Accordingly he took a sad leave of Alftruda, an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> +affectionate one of Sir Gilbert, who wished to knight +him for his brave deed, and a mocking one of his +angry and unsuccessful foes.</p> + + +<h3>Hereward in Cornwall</h3> + +<p>Entering into a merchant-ship, he sailed for Cornwall, +and there was taken to the court of King Alef, +a petty British chief, who, on true patriarchal lines, +disposed of his children as he would, and had betrothed +his fair daughter to a terrible Pictish giant, breaking +off, in order to do it, her troth-plight with Prince +Sigtryg of Waterford, son of a Danish king in Ireland. +Hereward was ever chivalrous, and little Alftruda had +made him feel pitiful to all maidens. Seeing speedily +how the princess loathed her new betrothed, a hideous, +misshapen wretch, nearly eight feet high, he determined +to slay him. With great deliberation he picked a +quarrel with the giant, and killed him the next day in +fair fight; but King Alef was driven by the threats of the +vengeful Pictish tribe to throw Hereward and his man +Martin into prison, promising trial and punishment on +the morrow.</p> + + +<h3>Hereward Released from Prison</h3> + +<p>To the young Saxon’s surprise, the released princess +appeared to be as grieved and as revengeful as any +follower of the Pictish giant, and she not only advocated +prison and death the next day, but herself superintended +the tying of the thongs that bound the two strangers. +When they were left to their lonely confinement Hereward +began to blame the princess for hypocrisy, and to +protest the impossibility of a man’s ever knowing what a +woman wants. “Who would have thought,” he cried, +“that that beautiful maiden loved a giant so hideous as +this Pict? Had I known, I would never have fought +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> +him, but her eyes said to me, ‘Kill him,’ and I have +done so; this is how she rewards me!” “No,” replied +Martin, “this is how”; and he cut Hereward’s bonds, +laughing silently to himself. “Master, you were so +indignant with the lady that you could not make +allowances for her. I knew that she must pretend to +grieve, for her father’s sake, and when she came to test +our bonds I was sure of it, for as she fingered a knot +she slipped a knife into my hands, and bade me use it. +Now we are free from our bonds, and must try to escape +from our prison.”</p> + + +<h3>The Princess Visits the Captives</h3> + +<p>In vain, however, the master and man ranged round +the room in which they were confined; it was a tiny +chapel, with walls and doors of great thickness, and +violently as Hereward exerted himself, he could make +no impression on either walls or door, and, sitting +sullenly down on the altar steps, he asked Martin what +good was freedom from bonds in a secure prison. +“Much, every way,” replied the servant; “at least we +die with free hands; and I, for my part, am content to +trust that the princess has some good plan, if we will +only be ready.” While he was speaking they heard +footsteps just outside the door, and the sound of a key +being inserted into the lock. Hereward beckoned +silently to Martin, and the two stood ready, one at +each side of the door, to make a dash for freedom, and +Martin was prepared to slay any who should hinder. +To their great surprise, the princess entered, accompanied +by an old priest bearing a lantern, which he set +down on the altar step, and then the princess turned +to Hereward, crying, “Pardon me, my deliverer!” +The Saxon was still aggrieved and bewildered, and +replied: “Do you now say ‘deliverer’? This afternoon +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> +it was ‘murderer, villain, cut-throat.’ How +shall I know which is your real mind?” The princess +almost laughed as she said: “How stupid men are! +What could I do but pretend to hate you, since otherwise +the Picts would have slain you then and us all +afterwards, but I claimed you as my victims, and you +have been given to me. How else could I have come +here to-night? Now tell me, if I set you free will +you swear to carry a message for me?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr51.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_344" id="image_page_344"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Hereward and the Princess</p> + + +<h3>Sigtryg Ranaldsson of Waterford</h3> + +<p>“Whither shall I go, lady, and what shall I say?” asked +Hereward. “Take this ring, my ring of betrothal, and +go to Prince Sigtryg, son of King Ranald of Waterford. +Say to him that I am beset on every side, and beg him +to come and claim me as his bride; otherwise I fear I +may be forced to marry some man of my father’s +choosing, as I was being driven to wed the Pictish +giant. From him you have rescued me, and I thank +you; but if my betrothed delays his coming it may +be too late, for there are other hateful suitors who would +make my father bestow my hand upon one of them. +Beg him to come with all speed.” “Lady, I will go now,” +said Hereward, “if you will set me free from this vault.”</p> + + +<h3>Hereward Binds the Princess</h3> + +<p>“Go quickly, and safely,” said the princess; “but +ere you go you have one duty to fulfil: you must bind +me hand and foot, and fling me, with this old priest, on +the ground.” “Never,” said Hereward, “will I bind +a woman; it were foul disgrace to me for ever.” But +Martin only laughed, and the maiden said again: +“How stupid men are! I must pretend to have been +overpowered by you, or I shall be accused of having +freed you, but I will say that I came hither to question +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> +you, and you and your man set on me and the priest, +bound us, took the key, and so escaped. So shall you +be free, and I shall have no blame, and my father no +danger; and may Heaven forgive the lie.”</p> + +<p>Hereward reluctantly agreed, and, with Martin’s help, +bound the two hand and foot and laid them before the +altar; then, kissing the maiden’s hand, and swearing +loyalty and truth, he turned to depart. But the princess +had one question to ask. “Who are you, noble stranger, +so gallant and strong? I would fain know for whom +to pray.” “I am Hereward Leofricsson, and my father +is the Earl of Mercia.” “Are you that Hereward who +slew the Fairy Bear? Little wonder is it that you have +slain my monster and set me free.” Then master and +man left the chapel, after carefully turning the key in the +lock. Making their way to the shore, they succeeded +in getting a ship to carry them to Ireland, and in course +of time reached Waterford.</p> + + +<h3>Prince Sigtryg</h3> + +<p>The Danish kingdom of Waterford was ruled by +King Ranald, whose only son, Sigtryg, was about Hereward’s +age, and was as noble-looking a youth as the +Saxon hero. The king was at a feast, and Hereward, +entering the hall with the captain of the vessel, sat +down at one of the lower tables; but he was not one of +those who can pass unnoticed. The prince saw him, +distinguished at once his noble bearing, and asked him +to come to the king’s own table. He gladly obeyed, +and as he drank to the prince and their goblets touched +together he contrived to drop the ring from the +Cornish princess into Sigtryg’s cup. The prince saw +and recognised it as he drained his cup, and, watching +his opportunity, left the hall, and was soon followed by +his guest.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span></p> + +<h3>Hereward and Sigtryg</h3> + +<p>Outside in the darkness Sigtryg turned hurriedly to +Hereward, saying, “You bring me a message from my +betrothed?” “Yes, if you are that Prince Sigtryg to +whom the Princess of Cornwall was affianced.” “Was +affianced! What do you mean? She is still my lady +and my love.” “Yet you leave her there unaided, +while her father gives her in marriage to a hideous +giant of a Pict, breaking her betrothal, and driving +the hapless maiden to despair. What kind of love is +yours?” Hereward said nothing yet about his own +slaying of the giant, because he wished to test Prince +Sigtryg’s sincerity, and he was satisfied, for the prince +burst out: “Would to God that I had gone to her +before! but my father needed my help against foreign +invaders and native rebels. I will go immediately and +save my lady or die with her!” “No need of that, +for I killed that giant,” said Hereward coolly, and +Sigtryg embraced him in joy and they swore blood-brotherhood +together. Then he asked: “What +message do you bring me, and what means her +ring?” The other replied by repeating the Cornish +maiden’s words, and urging him to start at once if +he would save his betrothed from some other hateful +marriage.</p> + + +<h3>Return to Cornwall</h3> + +<p>The prince went at once to his father, told him the +whole story, and obtained a ship and men to journey to +Cornwall and rescue the princess; then, with Hereward +by his side, he set sail, and soon landed in Cornwall, +hoping to obtain his bride peaceably. To his grief he +learnt that the princess had just been betrothed to a +wild Cornish leader, Haco, and the wedding feast was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> +to be held that very day. Sigtryg was greatly enraged, +and sent a troop of forty Danes to King Alef demanding +the fulfilment of the troth-plight between himself +and his daughter, and threatening vengeance if it were +broken. To this threat the king returned no answer, +and no Dane came back to tell of their reception.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/hmlbr52.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="" /> +<a name="image_page_348" id="image_page_348"></a> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Hereward and Sigtryg</p> + + +<h3>Hereward in the Enemy’s Hall</h3> + +<p>Sigtryg would have waited till morning, trusting in +the honour of the king, but Hereward disguised himself +as a minstrel and obtained admission to the bridal +feast, where he soon won applause by his beautiful +singing. The bridegroom, Haco, in a rapture offered +him any boon he liked to ask, but he demanded only a +cup of wine from the hands of the bride. When she +brought it to him he flung into the empty cup the +betrothal ring, the token she had sent to Sigtryg, and +said: “I thank thee, lady, and would reward thee for +thy gentleness to a wandering minstrel; I give back +the cup, richer than before by the kind thoughts of +which it bears the token.” The princess looked at +him, gazed into the goblet, and saw her ring; then, +looking again, she recognised her deliverer and knew +that rescue was at hand.</p> + + +<h3>Haco’s Plan</h3> + +<p>While men feasted Hereward listened and talked, +and found out that the forty Danes were prisoners, to +be released on the morrow when Haco was sure of his +bride, but released useless and miserable, since they +would be turned adrift blinded. Haco was taking his +lovely bride back to his own land, and Hereward saw +that any rescue, to be successful, must be attempted +on the march. Yet he knew not the way the bridal +company would go, and he lay down to sleep in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> +hall, hoping that he might hear something more. +When all men slept a dark shape came gliding +through the hall and touched Hereward on the +shoulder; he slept lightly, and awoke at once to +recognise the old nurse of the princess. “Come to +her now,” the old woman whispered, and Hereward +went, though he knew not that the princess was still +true to her lover. In her bower, which she was +soon to leave, Haco’s sorrowful bride awaited the +messenger.</p> + + +<h3>Rescue for Haco’s Bride</h3> + +<p>Sadly she smiled on the young Saxon as she said: +“I knew your face again in spite of the disguise, but +you come too late. Bear my farewell to Sigtryg, and +say that my father’s will, not mine, makes me false to +my troth-plight.” “Have you not been told, lady, +that he is here?” asked Hereward. “Here?” the +princess cried. “I have not heard. He loves me still +and has not forsaken me?” “No, lady, he is too true +a lover for falsehood. He sent forty Danes yesterday to +demand you of your father and threaten his wrath if he +refused.” “And I knew not of it,” said the princess +softly; “yet I had heard that Haco had taken some +prisoners, whom he means to blind.” “Those are our +messengers, and your future subjects,” said Hereward. +“Help me to save them and you. Do you know +Haco’s plans?” “Only this, that he will march +to-morrow along the river, and where the ravine is +darkest and forms the boundary between his kingdom +and my father’s the prisoners are to be blinded and +released.” “Is it far hence?” “Three miles to the +eastward of this hall,” she replied. “We will be +there. Have no fear, lady, whatever you may see, but +be bold and look for your lover in the fight.” So +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> +saying, Hereward kissed the hand of the princess, and +passed out of the hall unperceived by any one.</p> + + +<h3>The Ambush</h3> + +<p>Returning to Sigtryg, the young Saxon told all that +he had learnt, and the Danes planned an ambush in the +ravine where Haco had decided to blind and set free +his captives. All was in readiness, and side by side +Hereward and Sigtryg were watching the pathway from +their covert, when the sound of horses’ hoofs heard on +the rocks reduced them to silence. The bridal procession +came in strange array: first the Danish prisoners +bound each between two Cornishmen, then Haco and +his unhappy bride, and last a great throng of Cornishmen. +Hereward had taken command, that Sigtryg +might look to the safety of his lady, and his plan +was simplicity itself. The Danes were to wait till their +comrades, with their guards, had passed through the +ravine; then while the leader engaged Haco, and +Sigtryg looked to the safety of the princess, the Danes +would release the prisoners and slay every Cornishman, +and the two parties of Danes, uniting their forces, would +restore order to the land and destroy the followers of +Haco.</p> + + +<h3>Success</h3> + +<p>The whole was carried out exactly as Hereward had +planned. The Cornishmen, with Danish captives, passed +first without attack; next came Haco, riding grim and +ferocious beside his silent bride, he exulting in his +success, she looking eagerly for any signs of rescue. +As they passed Hereward sprang from his shelter, +crying, “Upon them, Danes, and set your brethren +free!” and himself struck down Haco and smote off +his head. There was a short struggle, but soon the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> +rescued Danes were able to aid their deliverers, and the +Cornish guards were all slain; the men of King Alef, +never very zealous for the cause of Haco, fled, and the +Danes were left masters of the field. Sigtryg had in +the meantime seen to the safety of the princess, and +now placing her between himself and Hereward, he +escorted her to the ship, which soon brought them to +Waterford and a happy bridal. The Prince and Princess +of Waterford always recognised in Hereward their +deliverer and best friend, and in their gratitude wished +him to dwell with them always; but he knew “how hard +a thing it is to look into happiness through another +man’s eyes,” and would not stay. His roving and +daring temper drove him to deeds of arms in other +lands, where he won a renown second to none, but he +always felt glad in his own heart, even in later days, +when unfaithfulness to a woman was the one great sin of +his life, that his first feats of arms had been wrought to +rescue two maidens from their hapless fate, and that he +was rightly known as Hereward the Saxon, the Champion +of Women.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p> + +<h2>GLOSSARY AND INDEX</h2> + + +<p>In the following Index no attempt is made to indicate the exact pronunciation +of foreign names; but in the case of those from the Anglo-Saxon +a rough approximation is given, as being often essential to the +reading of the metrical versions. In these indications the letters have +their ordinary English values; ĕ indicates the very light, obscure sound +heard in the indefinite article in such a phrase as “with a rush.”</p> + + + +<p class="center"> +<a href="#A">A</a> <a href="#B">B</a> <a href="#C">C</a> +<a href="#D">D</a> <a href="#E">E</a> <a href="#F">F</a> +<a href="#G">G</a> <a href="#H">H</a> <a href="#I">I</a> +<a href="#J">J</a> <a href="#K">K</a> <a href="#L">L</a> +<a href="#M">M</a> <a href="#N">N</a> <a href="#O">O</a> +<a href="#P">P</a> <a href="#R">R</a> <a href="#S">S</a> +<a href="#T">T</a> <a href="#U">U</a> <a href="#V">V</a> +<a href="#W">W</a> <a href="#Y">Y</a> <a href="#Z">Z</a> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="A" id="A"></a>A<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Abloec.</span> See <a href="#Anlaf"><b>Anlaf</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Achilles.</span> His sulks, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Cuchulain, “the Irish,” <a href="#Page_184">184</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Adeon.</span> Son of Eudav; grandson of Caradoc, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Age.</span> See <a href="#Golden_Age"><b>Golden Age</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ailill.</span> King of Connaught, husband of Queen Meave; to decide claims to title of Chief Champion, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">seeks aid of Fairy People of the Hills, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ailmar.</span> King of Westernesse, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">welcomes and adopts Childe Horn, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Princess Rymenhild, daughter of, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">dubs Horn knight, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hears of Horn’s first exploit, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Fikenhild betrays Horn and Rymenhild to, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn returns to, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">reluctantly gives his daughter to Horn, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn leaves Rymenhild to his care, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Aix-la-Chapelle.</span> Wondrous springs of, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Charlemagne at, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alef.</span> King of Cornwall; Hereward at court of, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">casts Hereward into prison, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his daughter releases Hereward, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sigtryg sends forty Danes to, <a href="#Page_348">348</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alftruda.</span> Ward of Edward the Confessor, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward’s first meeting with, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rescues from Fairy Bear, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward takes farewell of, <a href="#Page_342">342</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alice of Cloudeslee.</span> Wife of William of Cloudeslee, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">outlaw husband visits, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rescued from burning house, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">thanks Adam Bell and Clym for delivering her husband, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">appointed chief woman of bedchamber to the royal children, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">All-Father.</span> Praised for Beowulf’s victory over Grendel, <a href="#Page_18">18</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alto-bis-ca´r.</span> Song of (a forgery), <a href="#Page_120">120</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Anglesey.</span> Same as Mona, <a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Anglo-Saxon Nobility.</span> Hereward the ideal of, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Anglo-Saxon Times.</span> Legends regarding Constantine during, <a href="#Page_42">42</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ængus the Ever-Young.</span> Irish people and wrath of, <a href="#Page_158">158</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Anlaf" id="Anlaf"></a><span class="smcap">Anlaf.</span> Same as Olaf, or Sihtricson; known to Welsh as Abloec or Habloc; romantic stories concerning, <a href="#Page_73">73</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Anseis, Duke of.</span> Mortally wounded, <a href="#Page_143">143</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Arabia.</span> Physicians from, with remedies for Constantine’s leprosy, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Armagh.</span> Capital of Ulster; Cuchulain and Emer dwell at, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">King Conor and heroes return to, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">heroes return to, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Arnoldin, Sir.</span> Cousin of Athulf; helps to save Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">King Ailmar nominates as his heir, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Arthur, King.</span> Uncle of Sir Gawayne, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Christmas kept at Carlisle by, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Guenever, queen of, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">uncle of Sir Gareth and Sir Mordred, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">damsel requests a boon of, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his journey to Tarn Wathelan, and fight with giant, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">humiliated by the giant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> +and released on certain conditions, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his search for the answer to the giant’s question, <a href="#Page_270">270-272</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">learns it from the loathly lady, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the ransom paid to giant, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the loathly lady demands a young and handsome knight for husband for helping, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sir Gawayne offers to pay ransom for, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">summons court to hunt in greenwood near Tarn Wathelan, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rebukes Sir Kay, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his joy over his nephew’s wedding with the supposed loathly lady, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Arthurian Legend.</span> Preserved by mediæval Wales, <a href="#Page_265">265</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Arvon.</span> Fertile land of, searched by ambassadors of Maxen Wledig, <a href="#Page_47">47-49</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Asbrand.</span> Brother of Biargey, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">helps Howard against Thorbiorn, <a href="#Page_115">115</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Aschere</span> (ask-herĕ). One of King Hrothgar’s thanes, carried off by Grendel’s mother, <a href="#Page_21">21</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Athelbrus.</span> King Ailmar’s steward, to train Childe Horn to be a knight, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">induces Athulf to personate Horn, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sends Horn to Princess Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">land of King Modi committed to care of, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Athelstan.</span> King of England; kinship of Anlaf with, <a href="#Page_73">73</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Athelwold.</span> King of England, father of Goldborough, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">his death and burial, <a href="#Page_81">81</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Athulf.</span> Horn’s favourite companion, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">personates Horn before Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">writes to Horn on behalf of Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">plans with Horn the rescue of Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his father found at Suddene, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">weds Reynild, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Aude the Fair.</span> Sister of Oliver, betrothed bride of Roland, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Charlemagne promises his son Louis to, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">dies of grief for Roland’s loss, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Augustus.</span> Constantine’s elevation to rank of, <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Loch_Awe" id="Loch_Awe"></a><span class="smcap">Awe, Loch.</span> Black Colin, Knight of, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin dwells at, with wife, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Lady of, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin far away from, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin’s return to, <a href="#Page_258">258</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="B" id="B"></a>B<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Babylon, Emir of.</span> Marsile’s vassal; defeated by Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_154">154</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Baltic Sea.</span> Forefathers who dwelt on shores of, <a href="#Page_1">1</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Banier, Sir.</span> A Knight of the Round Table, <a href="#Page_266">266</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Barnesdale.</span> Forest in South Yorkshire, once dwelling-place of Robin Hood, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Sir Richard of the Lea sets out for, to repay loan, <a href="#Page_328">328</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Barton, Sir Andrew.</span> Scottish hero, <a href="#Page_248">248</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Basques.</span> Attack Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bathstead.</span> Place on shores of Icefirth near where Thorbiorn lived, <a href="#Page_97">97-118</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bean-stan.</span> Father of Breca, <a href="#Page_12">12</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bedivere, Sir.</span> A Knight of the Round Table, <a href="#Page_266">266</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Beli.</span> Son of Manogan; Britain conquered by Maxen Wledig from, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bell, Adam.</span> Outlaw leader in forest of Englewood, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">declared powerless to deliver William of Cloudeslee, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rescues William from death, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">visit to London to see the king, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the king pardons, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Beo´wa.</span> Stories of, crystallised in stories of Beowulf, <a href="#Page_1">1</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Beo´wulf.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. The poem of, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Thane of Hygelac, King of Geats, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">son of Ecgtheow, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">nephew of King Hygelac, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">grandson of Hrethel, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">brought up at Geatish court, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">famous swimming match<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> +with Breca, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">his mighty hand-grip, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">sails for Denmark to attack Grendel, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">challenged by Warden of Denmark, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">declares his mission to Hrothgar, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">disparaged by Hunferth, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">honoured by Queen Wealhtheow, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">struggles with Grendel, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">mortally wounds Grendel, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">vows to slay mother of Grendel, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">does so, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">carries off sword-hilt and Grendel’s head, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">sails to Geatland, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">welcomed by King Hygelac and Queen Hygd, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">chief champion of Hygelac, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">refuses the throne in favour of Heardred, and becomes guardian of, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">again chosen King of Geatland, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">encounters with fire-dragon, <a href="#Page_31">31-39</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">recites slaying of Frankish warrior, Daghrefn, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">forsaken by Geats in his encounter with the fire-dragon, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">slays the dragon, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">his death and funeral, <a href="#Page_39">39-41</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Berild.</span> Son of King Thurston, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">slain by the Saracens, <a href="#Page_302">302</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bernard Brown.</span> Danish magistrate; protects Havelok and Goldborough, <a href="#Page_88">88-89</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ber-na´r-do del Ca´r-pio.</span> Hero in Spanish legend who defeats Roland, <a href="#Page_121">121</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bertram.</span> Earl’s cook who befriended Havelok, <a href="#Page_82">82-83</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">marries one of Grim’s daughters and becomes Earl of Cornwall, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Biargey.</span> Wife of Howard the Halt, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">urges Howard to claim wergild for Olaf, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, +<a href="#Page_108">108</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Howard returns to, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">visits her brothers, Valbrand, Thorbrand, and Asbrand, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hails Thorbiorn while out fishing, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">urges Howard to seek vengeance, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Birkabeyn.</span> Rule of, as king over Denmark, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Swanborow and Elfleda, daughters of, and Havelok, son of, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">commits Havelok to care of Jarl Godard, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">death and funeral of, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Jarl Ubbe, an old friend of, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Black_Colin" id="Black_Colin"></a><span class="smcap">Black Colin of Loch Awe</span>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">son of Sir Nigel Campbell, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Patterson, name of foster-parents, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">messenger tells of new crusade, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">decides to go on crusade, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his wife’s grief, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">touches at Edinburgh and ships at Leith, <i>en route</i> to Holy Land, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his desire to see Holy Land and Holy Sepulchre, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">reaches Rome, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sees Pope, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">regards Pope as Vicar of Christ, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">journeys to Rhodes, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">takes service with Knights of St. John, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">a pilgrim at Jerusalem, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">letter in name of, forged by Baron MacCorquodale, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">falsely reported wounded by Saracens, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hears news of wife’s impending second marriage, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">returns home, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">welcomed by foster-mother, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">disguised as a beggar, hands token to his wife, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">recognised and welcomed by his wife, <a href="#Page_262">262</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Black Douglas.</span> Scottish hero, <a href="#Page_248">248</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Black Monk, The.</span> Captured by Robin Hood’s followers, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">high cellarer in Abbey of St. Mary, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Robin Hood confiscates his gold as repayment of loan to Sir Richard of the Lea, +<a href="#Page_331">331</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">departs from greenwood, <a href="#Page_332">332</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Black Sainglain.</span> One of Cuchulain’s magic steeds, <a href="#Page_191">191</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Blancandrin.</span> Vassal of King Marsile, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">overtaken by Ganelon, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Ganelon and, plot Roland’s destruction, <a href="#Page_131">131</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Blaye.</span> Bodies of Roland, Oliver, and Turpin buried in cathedral of, +<a href="#Page_155">155</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bluemire.</span> Dwelling-place of Howard the Halt, <a href="#Page_97">97</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> +<span class="smcap">Bog of Allen.</span> Cathleen’s messenger declared to be sick in, <a href="#Page_177">177</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bors, Sir.</span> A Knight of the Round Table, <a href="#Page_266">266</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bourne, Hall of.</span> Home of Leofric, Earl of Mercia, <a href="#Page_336">336</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Brand.</span> Trusted serving-man of Thorbiorn, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, +<a href="#Page_102">102</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Breca.</span> Famous swimming champion, beaten by Beowulf, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">son of Beanstan, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bricriu of the Bitter Tongue.</span> Compared with Thersites, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">invites King Conor and Red Branch heroes to a feast, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">stirs up strife among heroes of Ulster, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">flatters the wives of the heroes, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Brigit.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. Of the Holy Fire; wrath of, and Irish people, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Cathleen’s old servant, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Briseis.</span> Achilles and his sulks concerning, <a href="#Page_184">184</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Britain.</span> Legend of “The Dream of Maxen Wledig” shows importance of Constantine +to, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">ambassadors of Maxen Wledig carried to, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">conquered by Maxen Wledig from Beli, son of Manogan, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">given by Maxen Wledig to Eudav, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Elene summoned from, is baptized, and seeks the sacred Cross, <a href="#Page_54">54-62</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Constantine sent to, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Constantine proclaimed emperor of, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Britons, Early</span>, Greeks of Homer, and Irish Celts, racial affinity +between, <a href="#Page_184">184</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Brittany.</span> Roland, prefect of marches of, <a href="#Page_120">120</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bruce, Robert.</span> Scottish hero, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Sir Nigel Campbell, adherent of, <a href="#Page_249">249</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="C" id="C"></a>C<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Caerlleon.</span> See <a href="#Caernarvon"><b>Caernarvon</b></a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Caermarthen.</span> See <a href="#Caernarvon"><b>Caernarvon</b></a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Caernarvon" id="Caernarvon"></a><span class="smcap">Caernarvon.</span> Castle in land of Arvon +in which Princess Helena dwelt, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">given with castles Caerlleon and Caermarthen to Princess Helena as dowry, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cain.</span> Grendel, offspring of, <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Caledonians.</span> Defeated by Constantius, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Calidore, Sir.</span> Mediæval Wales had a knight of courtesy equal to, <a href="#Page_265">265</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Calvary.</span> The hill of, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, +<a href="#Page_61">61</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Campbell, Sir Nigel.</span> Leader in Scottish Independence, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">father of Black Colin, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his death, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">clansmen of, accompany Black Colin to Holy Land, <a href="#Page_252">252</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Caradoc.</span> Father of Eudav; grandfather of Princess Helena, and of Princes +Kynon and Adeon, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Carlisle.</span> Outlaw band near town of, in Englewood Forest, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">reference to sheriff of, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">William of Cloudeslee goes to, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sheriff informed of William’s presence at, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">outlaws Adam Bell and Clym go to, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the outlaws escape from, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">King Arthur keeps Christmas at, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sir Gawayne and loathly lady wedded at, <a href="#Page_280">280</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cathbad.</span> Druid; Cuchulain’s tutor, <a href="#Page_185">185</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cathleen.</span> Irish countess; legend concerning, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">antiquity of the legend, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the story, <a href="#Page_156">156-183</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">her grief because of her people’s famine, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">prays to Virgin Mary, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Fergus, steward of, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">value of her wealth, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">commands Fergus to provide food for sufferers from famine, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">her goodness extolled by the demons, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hears of demon traders, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">tries to check traffic in souls, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">visits demons, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Oona, foster-mother to, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">revisits demons, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sells her soul, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">her death, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Catholic Church.</span> Pope, head of, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> +<span class="smcap">Celion.</span> Constantine to send to, for Bishop Sylvester, <a href="#Page_71">71</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Celtic Literature.</span> Spirit of mysticism in all, <a href="#Page_156">156</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Celts.</span> Gospel preached to, by St. Patrick, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Irish, early Britons, and Greeks of Homer, racial affinity between, <a href="#Page_184">184</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Champion" id="Champion"></a><span class="smcap">Champion.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. Of Erin: compared with Achilles, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">Cuchulain the, his fame at age of seventeen, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">Bricriu urges Laegaire to claim title of, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">title to go to warrior who obtains Champion’s Bit, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">tests to decide claims to title of, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, +<a href="#Page_196">196-203</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">Uath the Stranger challenges the heroes to a test to decide claims to title, +<a href="#Page_199">199-203</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Of Women: Hereward known as, <a href="#Page_351">351</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Champion of Ireland.</span> See <a href="#Champion"><b>Champion of Erin</b></a>.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Champion’s Bit, The</span>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">claimed by chariot-drivers of Laegaire, Conall, and Cuchulain, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, +<a href="#Page_189">189</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">awarded by Queen Meave to Laegaire, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">heroes severally claim, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">tests to decide claims to, <a href="#Page_196">196-203</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Chanson de Roland.</span> Roland and, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">late version of Anglo-Norman poem, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Thorold, author of, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Charlemagne" id="Charlemagne"></a><span class="smcap">Charlemagne.</span> World-famed equivalent, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">head of Roman Empire, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Roland, nephew of, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">expedition into Spain, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">receives an embassage from Marsile, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">calls his Twelve Peers to council, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sends Ganelon to Saragossa, <a href="#Page_128">128-130</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">receives through Ganelon the keys of Saragossa, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his evil dream, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hears Roland’s horn, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hastens to the rescue, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">avenges death of Roland and the Peers, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his return to Aix, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his son, Louis, promised to Aude the Fair, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Charles the Great.</span> King of the Franks, world-famed as Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.<br /> +<span class="in1">See <a href="#Charlemagne"><b>Charlemagne</b></a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Childe Horn.</span> See <a href="#Horn"><b>Horn</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Chosen People.</span> The Jews the, <a href="#Page_56">56</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Christ.</span> The Cross the sign of, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the Resurrection of, preached to Constantine, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Constantine’s desire to find the sacred Cross, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">inhabitants of Suddene who believe on, threatened with death, <a href="#Page_287">287</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Christendom.</span> Enriched by treasures of the True Cross and Holy Nails, <a href="#Page_62">62</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Christian-s.</span> Preach the way of life to Constantine, <a href="#Page_1">53</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the Lord of, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">faith, in Iceland, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">law, to be driven out of Suddene by law of Mahomet, <a href="#Page_287">287</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Church of Rome.</span> Constantine’s generosity to, <a href="#Page_42">42</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Churchmen.</span> Beaten and battered by Gamelyn, <a href="#Page_217">217</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cinderella.</span> Root idea of, similar to “Gamelyn,” <a href="#Page_204">204</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Clym of the Cleugh.</span> Outlaw leader in forest of Englewood, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">declared powerless to deliver William of Cloudeslee, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his stratagem to save William of Cloudeslee, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rescues William from death, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">visits London to see the king, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the king pardons, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Colin, Black.</span> See <a href="#Black_Colin"><b>Black Colin</b></a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Comala.</span> Hero in Gaelic Highland poems, <a href="#Page_248">248</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Conall Cearnach.</span> Cuchulain’s cousin, a Red Branch chief, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">urged to claim title of Chief Champion, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">awarded Champion’s Portion, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">claim tested by Curoi, <a href="#Page_196">196-203</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">disgraced by Uath, <a href="#Page_201">201</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Confessio Amantis.</span> Early English poem, by “the moral Gower,” <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">story told in, of Constantine’s true charity, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Connaught.</span> Ailill, King of, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">heroes sent to Cruachan in, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Conor.</span> King of Ulster, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Cuchulain, nephew of, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> +<span class="in1">Dechtire, sister of, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">invited with the heroes of Red Branch to a feast by Bricriu, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">received with court at Dundrum by Bricriu, <a href="#Page_188">188</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Conqueror, William the.</span> Cause of England being laid at feet of, <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Constantine III.</span> King of Scotland; marriage of Anlaf with daughter of, <a href="#Page_73">73</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Constantine the Great.</span> Emperor of Rome; renown in mediæval England, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Cynewulf’s poem, “Elene,” written on the subject of his conversion, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his vision of the Holy Cross, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">generosity to Church of Rome and Bishop Sylvester, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">legends concerning, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the only British-born Roman emperor, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his greatness provokes a confederation to overthrow him by Huns, Goths, Franks, and Hugas, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">conquers Huns by Cross standard, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Christians preach the way of life to, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">is baptized into the Christian faith, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his desire to find the sacred Cross, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sends for Elene, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">ordains “Holy Cross Day,” <a href="#Page_62">62</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">eldest son of Constantius, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sent to Britain, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">proclaimed emperor, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">granted title of “Cæsar,” <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">marriage with Fausta, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">elevation to rank of Augustus, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Emperor of Rome, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">attacked by leprosy, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the remedies suggested, <a href="#Page_65">65-72</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his noble resolve, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his vision, <a href="#Page_69">69-70</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his healing, <a href="#Page_71">71-72</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Constantius.</span> Emperor Maxentius hero of the Welsh saga instead of, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">father of Constantine the Great, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">proclaimed Emperor of Britain, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cornish Princess, The.</span> Daughter of King Alef, affianced to Prince Sigtryg, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>, +<a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>, <a href="#Page_346">346</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Haco betrothed to, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">receives token from Hereward, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">reveals Haco’s plans to Hereward, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rescued from Haco, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">guards, all slain, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">wedded by Sigtryg, <a href="#Page_351">351</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cornwall.</span> Godrich, Earl of, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Bertram made Earl of, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward sails for, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Alef, King of, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sigtryg and Hereward sail for, <a href="#Page_347">347</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Coventry.</span> Lady Godiva’s ride through, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Crescent.</span> Cross exalted above the, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cross.</span> The Holy, Constantine’s vision of, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, +<a href="#Page_51">51</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Romans conquer Huns by, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the people awed by the standard of the, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Constantine’s desire to find the sacred, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Elene’s quest after, <a href="#Page_54">54-62</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">secret place of, revealed by Judas, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">“Holy Cross Day” ordained, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cruachan.</span> Conor sends heroes to Ailill at, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Good People’s Hill at, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">heroes bid farewell to court at, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Crusade-s.</span> Reference to, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin receives tidings of one about to be set on foot, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin decides to go on, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">story of Horn typical of romance of the, <a href="#Page_286">286</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cuchulain.</span> Reference to Connla and, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Irish hero, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">often called “the Irish Achilles,” <a href="#Page_184">184</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">nephew of King Conor and son of Dechtire, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">god Lugh, reputed father of, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">champion in Ulster and all Ireland, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">bride sought for, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">wooes and weds Emer, daughter of Forgall the Wily, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Conall Cearnach, cousin of, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">urged to claim title of Chief Champion, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Grey of Macha and Black Sainglain, magic steeds of, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">awarded golden cup and Champion’s Portion, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">claim tested by Curoi, <a href="#Page_196">196-203</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">answers Uath’s tests, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">acclaimed Champion of Heroes of all Ireland, <a href="#Page_203">203</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> +<span class="smcap">Curoi of Munster.</span> Failing a judgment from Ailill, to be asked to decide claims to title of +Chief Champion, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">heroes go to, to hear his judgment, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">puts heroes to certain tests in order to decide claims, <a href="#Page_196">196-203</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">assumes form of giant under name of Uath, the Stranger, <a href="#Page_199">199-203</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Curtius.</span> Reference to, <a href="#Page_156">156</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cuthbert.</span> Name under which Childe Horn serves King Thurston in Ireland, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, +<a href="#Page_302">302</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cynewulf</span> (ki´nĕ-wulf). Early English religious poet; “Elene,” his poem on the subject +of conversion of Constantine the Great, <a href="#Page_42">42</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cyriacus.</span> Baptismal name of Judas, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Bishop of Jerusalem, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="D" id="D"></a>D<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dagda.</span> Irish people and wrath of, <a href="#Page_158">158</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Da´g-hrefn.</span> Frankish warrior who slays Hygelac; killed by Beowulf’s deadly hand-grip, +<a href="#Page_35">35</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Danes.</span> Corpse of Scyld sorrowfully placed in vessel by, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">feasting of, in Heorot, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slain in Heorot by Grendel, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">desert Heorot, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">welcome Geats and Beowulf, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rejoice over Beowulf’s victory, <a href="#Page_18">18-29</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">friendship with Geats, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Gospel preached to, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Prince Sigtryg sends forty to King Alef, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">plan ambush for Haco, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rescue Cornish princess, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Danish.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. Occupation of England and its influence on language, &c., <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Invasions, hero-legends which have come down from times of, <a href="#Page_286">286</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Danube.</span> Huns overwhelmed in, <a href="#Page_52">52</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dechtire.</span> Sister of King Conor, <a href="#Page_185">185</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Decius.</span> Reference to, <a href="#Page_156">156</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Demons.</span> Appear in Erin to buy souls, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">visited by Cathleen, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">revisited by her, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Cathleen sells her soul to, to ransom her people, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">cheated of Cathleen’s soul, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Denmark.</span> Under sway of Scyld Scefing, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Scyld Scefing mysteriously comes to, as babe, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Beowulf sails to deliver King of, from Grendel, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Warden of, challenges Beowulf, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">King Birkabeyn’s rule over, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Godard made regent of, on behalf of Havelok, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Havelok sails from, with Grim, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Havelok’s dream concerning, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Havelok’s return to, and recognition as King of, <a href="#Page_87">87-92</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Diarmuit.</span> Irish hero, <a href="#Page_156">156</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Diocletian.</span> Emperor; Constantine evades jealousy of, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dodderer.</span> Horse offered as wergild by Thorbiorn to Howard, <a href="#Page_107">107</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dover.</span> Princess Goldborough imprisoned in castle of, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward sails from, to Whitby, <a href="#Page_339">339</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dublin.</span> Demons arrive at village near, <a href="#Page_168">168</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dundrum.</span> Bricriu receives King Conor and court at, <a href="#Page_188">188</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dunstan.</span> Monk; his saintly reputation, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Durendala.</span> Roland’s famous sword, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Roland tries in vain to break, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="E" id="E"></a>E<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ecgtheow</span> (eg´theow). Father of Beowulf, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">shielded by Hrothgar against Wilfings, <a href="#Page_11">11</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Edinburgh.</span> Black Colin at, <i>en route</i> to Holy Land, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Edward.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. The First: reference to war between England and Scotland during reign of, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. The Second: reference, <i>ibid.</i>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">3. The Confessor: division of England under, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">Hereward at court of, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>;</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> +<span class="in2">banishes Hereward, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">Alftruda, ward of, <a href="#Page_339">339</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Egypt.</span> Constantine’s valour in wars in, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">philosophers from, with remedies for Constantine’s leprosy, <a href="#Page_65">65</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Electra.</span> Reference to Orestes and, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Elena.</span> Same as Elene and Helena, <a href="#Page_63">63</a><br /> +<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Elene</span>” (elā´nĕ). Cynewulf’s poem of, on the subject of Constantine’s +conversion, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">summoned from Britain by Constantine, is baptized, and seeks the sacred Cross, <a href="#Page_54">54-62</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Same as Helena (Elena), <a href="#Page_63">63</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Elfleda the Fair.</span> Daughter of King Birkabeyn, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">slain by Godard, <a href="#Page_76">76</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ely.</span> Hereward’s defence of, <a href="#Page_334">334</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Emer.</span> Daughter of Forgall the Wily; wooed and wedded by Cuchulain, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">flattered by Bricriu, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">flattered by Queen Meave, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">adjudged by Uath to have first place among all the women of Ulster, <a href="#Page_203">203</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Engelier the Gascon.</span> Mortally wounded, <a href="#Page_143">143</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">England.</span> Mediæval, and Constantine the Great, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">influence on language by Danish occupation, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Athelstan, King of, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Athelwold, King of, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Grim sails from Denmark to, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">arrives at, in Humber (Grimsby), <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Havelok’s dream concerning, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Fergus journeys to, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the outlaw of mediæval, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">King of, pardons outlaws, William of Cloudeslee, &c., <a href="#Page_243">243</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">war between Scotland and, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">government of, during twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">division of, under Edward the Confessor, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">cause of being laid at Conqueror’s feet, <a href="#Page_338">338</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Englewood.</span> Outlaws in forest of, under Adam Bell, William of Cloudeslee, and Clym of the +Cleugh, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">outlaw band broken up, <a href="#Page_247">247</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ercol.</span> Ailill’s foster-father; heroes sent to, <a href="#Page_194">194</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Erin.</span> See <a href="#Ireland"><b>Ireland</b></a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">demons appear in, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Champion of, compared with Achilles, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">land of, searched for bride for Cuchulain, <a href="#Page_186">186</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Eudav.</span> Son of Caradoc, father of Princess Helena, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Kynon and Adeon, sons of, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Europe.</span> Ruled from City of Seven Hills (Rome) by Emperor Maxen Wledig, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Constantine granted rule over Western, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">relation between Greek and Irish literature among literatures of, <a href="#Page_184">184</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Evil One.</span> Tales relating dealings with, reference to, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">demons buy souls for, <a href="#Page_168">168-182</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Excalibur.</span> King Arthur’s sword, <a href="#Page_269">269</a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="F" id="F"></a>F<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fairy Bear, The.</span> A white Polar bear owned by Gilbert of Ghent, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">reputed kinship of, to Earl Siward, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slain by Hereward, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward’s trick on Norman knights with, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fairy People of the Hills.</span> King Ailill seeks aid of, <a href="#Page_193">193</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Faith.</span> Bishop Sylvester preaches the Christian, to Constantine, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Charlemagne fights for, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Marsile to embrace the Christian, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the true, English knowledge of, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Irish sufferers tempted to revolt from, <a href="#Page_167">167</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fall, The, of Man</span>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Faust.</span> Legends, trend of, <a href="#Page_157">157</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fausta.</span> Daughter of Emperor Maximian and wife of Constantine, <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fedelm.</span> Wife of Laegaire, <a href="#Page_189">189</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fen Country.</span> Hereward, the terror of the, <a href="#Page_336">336</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> +<span class="smcap">Fenians.</span> Champions of the, identical with Highland Gaelic heroes, <a href="#Page_248">248</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fergus the White.</span> Cathleen’s steward, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">foster-brother to Cathleen’s grandfather, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">declares value of Cathleen’s wealth, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sends servant to buy food at Ulster, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">journeys to England, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">returns with help, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fikenhild.</span> Horn’s companion next in favour to Athulf, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">spies on Horn and Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">demands Rymenhild in marriage, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slain by Horn, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fingal.</span> Hero in Gaelic Highland poems, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Scotch embodiment of Finn, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Finn.</span> Fingal Scotch embodiment, <a href="#Page_248">248</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Finn of the Frisians.</span> Victory of Danes over, chanted in Heorot, <a href="#Page_19">19</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Finnsburg.</span> Fight in, sung of in Heorot, <a href="#Page_19">19</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fitela.</span> Son of Sigmund; glory of, chanted by Danish bard, <a href="#Page_18">18</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Flemings.</span> Or Normans; Hereward enrolled among, to qualify for knighthood, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward’s trick on, with Fairy Bear, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Forefathers.</span> Feelings of our, embodied in “Beowulf,” <a href="#Page_1">1</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Forgall the Wily.</span> Cuchulain wooes Emer, daughter of, <a href="#Page_186">186</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">France.</span> Victories of Charlemagne for, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Charlemagne sets out for, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Frankish.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. Warrior, Daghrefn, slays Hygelac, and is slain by Beowulf, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Army marches towards Pyrenees, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">arrives too late to rescue Roland, <a href="#Page_146">146</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Franks.</span> Charles the Great (Charlemagne), King of, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Saracen host encamps near, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">and Moors meet in battle, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">defeat the Saracens, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">attacked by second Saracen army, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">defeat the heathens once more, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">attacked by third Saracen army, <a href="#Page_144">144</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">French Literature</span>, developing “Roland Saga,” <a href="#Page_121">121</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Friar Tuck.</span> See <a href="#Tuck"><b>Tuck</b></a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="G" id="G"></a>G<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Galerius.</span> Constantine evades hatred of, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">grants Constantine title of “Cæsar,” <a href="#Page_63">63</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gamelyn.</span> Tale of, a variant of fairy-tale “Wicked Elder Brothers,” <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">ultimate source, through Lodge’s “Euphues’ Golden Legacy,” of <i>As You Like It</i>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">literary ancestor of “Robin Hood,” <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sir John of the Marshes, father of, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">left in charge of eldest brother, John, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">resists him, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">victorious at wrestling match, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">overcomes his brother’s servants, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">allows himself to be chained, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">released by Adam Spencer, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">batters the Churchmen, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">puts his brother John in chains, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">puts sheriff’s men to flight, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">goes to the greenwood, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">joins the outlaws, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">proclaimed a wolf’s-head, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">arrested, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Otho offers himself as surety, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">fails to appear at court, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">releases Otho, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sits on judge’s seat and condemns Sir John, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">made chief forester by King Edward, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">made Otho’s heir, <a href="#Page_224">224</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ganelon.</span> Romance version of Danilo or Nanilo, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">compared with Judas, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">one of Charlemagne’s Twelve Peers, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his hostility to Roland, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">plots with Blancandrin the destruction of Roland, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">delivers to Marsile the message of Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">swears on sacred relics the treacherous death of Roland, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">delivers keys of Saragossa to Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">deceives Charlemagne concerning sound of Roland’s horn, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">arrested for treason, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his death as a traitor, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his name a byword in France for treachery, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gareth, Sir.</span> One of King Arthur’s nephews, <a href="#Page_266">266</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gascons.</span> Attack Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gautier, Count.</span> Roland’s vassal, <a href="#Page_136">136</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gawayne, Sir.</span> King Arthur’s nephew, the true Knight of Courtesy, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">learns of King Arthur’s adventure with the giant, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">learns the price to be paid for the loathly lady’s secret, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">offers to pay it by marrying the loathly lady, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">betroths the loathly lady, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>, <a href="#Page_280">280</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">weds the loathly lady, <a href="#Page_280">280</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his choice frees the loathly lady from magic spells, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the beauty of his bride, <a href="#Page_281">281-285</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Geatish Court.</span> Beowulf brought up at, <a href="#Page_6">6</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Geatland" id="Geatland"></a><span class="smcap">Geatland.</span> Same as Götaland; news of Grendel’s ravages +reaches, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Beowulf sails to, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">welcomed to shores of, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Geats.</span> Hygelac, King of, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Götaland, realm of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">arrival with Beowulf at Danish shores, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">friendship with Danes, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">forsake Beowulf in his encounter with the fire-dragon, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">their sorrow over Beowulf’s death, <a href="#Page_40">40-41</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gerier.</span> Peer of Charlemagne; mortally wounded, <a href="#Page_143">143</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gerin.</span> Peer of Charlemagne; mortally wounded, <a href="#Page_143">143</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Germany.</span> Forefathers who dwelt in North, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Hygelac seeks conquest of his neighbours on mainland of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ghent.</span> See <a href="#Gilbert"><b>Gilbert</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Gilbert" id="Gilbert"></a><span class="smcap">Gilbert of Ghent.</span> Hereward’s godfather, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward received by, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his Fairy Bear, slain by Hereward, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward quits his castle, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward takes farewell of, <a href="#Page_343">343</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Glenurchy.</span> Glen belonging to MacGregors, given to Sir Nigel Campbell, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin inherits, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Lady of, grieves over her husband’s departure on crusade, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Baron MacCorquodale’s land borders, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin’s return to, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">new castle built with rents of, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">God.</span> The Unknown, reverenced by Constantine, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the people awed by the token of the Unknown, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">worship of the True, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">famine cools love for, <a href="#Page_167">167</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Godard, Jarl.</span> Counsellor and friend of King Birkabeyn, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Havelok committed to care of, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">regency over Denmark, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his cruelty, <a href="#Page_76">76-78</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his treachery disclosed and punished by death, <a href="#Page_91">91-92</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Godhild.</span> Queen of Suddene, King Murry’s consort, the mother of Horn, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">hears of husband’s death and flees, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Godiva, Lady.</span> Wife of Leofric, Earl of Mercia, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">her famous ride through Coventry, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward, second son of, <a href="#Page_336">336</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Godrich.</span> Earl of Cornwall, regent for Princess Goldborough, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">his rule, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">imprisons Princess Goldborough out of jealousy, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">attends sports at Lincoln, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hears of Havelok’s skill and strength, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">enforces a marriage between Havelok and Goldborough, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">captured, tried as a traitor, and burnt at the stake, <a href="#Page_93">93-94</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Godwin.</span> Earl of Kent, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Lady Gytha, wife of, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">intercedes on behalf of Hereward, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward bids farewell to, <a href="#Page_339">339</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> +<span class="smcap">Goldborough.</span> English princess, daughter of King Athelwold; orphaned, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Earl Godrich regent for, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">imprisoned in Dover Castle, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">forced to wed Havelok, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">learns in a dream of Havelok’s royal birth, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">crowned Queen of England, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Golden_Age" id="Golden_Age"></a><span class="smcap">Golden Age.</span> Forefathers cherished lifetime of +ancestors as, <a href="#Page_1">1</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Götaland.</span> Realm of Geats, in south of Sweden, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>.<br /> +<span class="in1">See <a href="#Geatland"><b>Geatland</b></a>, <a href="#Page_7">7</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Goths.</span> Form a confederation with the Huns, Franks, and Hugas to overthrow Constantine, +<a href="#Page_50">50</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gower, “The Moral.”</span> Early English poet; his poem “Confessio Amantis” and Constantine’s +conversion, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">story told in “Confessio Amantis” of Constantine’s true charity, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Greece.</span> Philosophers from, with remedies for Constantine’s leprosy, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Greek-s.</span> Elene touches at land of, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">literature, relation of, to Irish literature, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">of Homer, early Britons, and Irish Celts, racial affinity between, <a href="#Page_184">184</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Grendel.</span> A loathsome fen-monster, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">enmity aroused by the feasting at Heorot, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slays and devours Danes in Heorot, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">master of Heorot, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Beowulf determines to attack, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">struggles with Beowulf in Heorot, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">worsted by Beowulf, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">mother of, avenges his death, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Grey of Macha.</span> Cuchulain’s best-beloved horse, <a href="#Page_191">191</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Grim.</span> Legendary hero whose loyalty secured privileges to Grimsby, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Godard’s thrall, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">ordered to drown Havelok, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">saves and maintains Havelok, <a href="#Page_79">79-82</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sails from Denmark to England, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sends Havelok to Lincoln, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his death, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his three sons, Robert the Red, William Wendut, and Hugh the Raven, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Grimsby.</span> The town of Grim, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Havelok at fish-market of, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">battle near, between Havelok and Godrich, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gudrun.</span> Reference to Siegfried and, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Guenever, Queen.</span> Wife of King Arthur, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">dreads magic arts during husband’s absence, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">learns of King Arthur’s adventure with the giant, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">welcomes the loathly lady at court, <a href="#Page_280">280</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Guest, The Wise.</span> Sister of, marries Thorbiorn, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Howard seeks at the Thing, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his judgment against Thorbiorn, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">removes his sister from Thorbiorn, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">gives judgment at Thing against Howard, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gytha, Lady.</span> Wife of Godwin, Earl of Kent, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="H" id="H"></a>H<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Habloc.</span> Welsh name for Havelok, <a href="#Page_73">73</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Haco.</span> Cornish leader; betrothed to the Cornish princess, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Cornish princess reveals plans of, to Hereward, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">ambush planned for, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slain by Hereward, <a href="#Page_350">350</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Son of King Thurston, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">slain by the Saracens, <a href="#Page_302">302</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hart, The.</span> See <a href="#Heorot"><b>Heorot</b></a>, <a href="#Page_3">3</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hastings.</span> Battle of, and “Song of Roland,” <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hathcyn.</span> Son of King Hrethel, brought up with Beowulf; slays his brother, Herebeald, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">slain himself by Swedes, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hauteclaire.</span> Oliver’s sword, <a href="#Page_141">141</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Havelok the Dane.</span> Legend of, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Anlaf, equivalent, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hero of the strong arm, in mediæval England, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">son of King Birkabeyn of Denmark, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">committed to care of Jarl Godard, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">imprisoned by Godard, <a href="#Page_76">76-77</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">saved and maintained by Grim, <a href="#Page_78">78-82</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">brought by Grim to England, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his feats of strength, <a href="#Page_82">82-84</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Goldborough forced to wed, <a href="#Page_84">84-85</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Grim’s three sons accompany to Denmark, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">aided by Jarl Ubbe, <a href="#Page_88">88-93</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Ubbe recognises as heir to throne of Denmark, and renders homage to, <a href="#Page_90">90-91</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">acknowledged King of Denmark, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">and of England, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Healfdene</span> (ha´lf-dānĕ). Father of King Hrothgar, <a href="#Page_9">9</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Heardred</span> (ha´rd-red). Son of Hygelac and Hygd; succeeds his father, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">his death, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hector.</span> Reference to death of, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Helena.</span> British princess; marriage with Constantine glorified in “Mabinogion,” <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">hailed as Empress of Rome, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">receives three castles as dowry, Caernarvon, Caerlleon, and Caermarthen, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">mother of Constantine the Great, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hell.</span> The purchase of souls for, <a href="#Page_170">170-183</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Cathleen sells her soul to, <a href="#Page_179">179</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hengest.</span> Deeds of, chanted in Heorot, <a href="#Page_19">19</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Heorot" id="Heorot"></a><span class="smcap">Heorot</span> (hyo´r-ŏt). Hall built by Hrothgar, +<a href="#Page_3">3</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">same as “The Hart,” <a href="#Page_3">3</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">enmity of Grendel to, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">feasting of Danes in, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Danes slaughtered in, by Grendel, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">deserted by Danes, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Grendel master of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Geats proceed to, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">feast in, to welcome Beowulf, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Grendel and Beowulf struggle in, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Grendel’s mother enters and carries off Aschere, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Herebeald</span> (he´rĕ-bald). Son of King Hrethel, brought up with Beowulf, +<a href="#Page_34">34</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Hereward" id="Hereward"></a><span class="smcap">Hereward.</span> One of the famous outlaws, +<a href="#Page_225">225</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the Saxon, personality real, yet surrounded by cloud of romance, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the ideal of Anglo-Saxon chivalry, as Roland of Norman, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">second son of Leofric and Godiva, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">terror of Fen Country, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">at court, and his conduct there, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">banished as an outlaw, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his farewell, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his first meeting with Alftruda, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">goes to his godfather, Gilbert of Ghent, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">enrolled among Flemings to qualify for knighthood, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his encounter with the Fairy Bear, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rescues Alftruda, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his trick on the Norman knights, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">leaves Northumbria, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">takes farewell of Alftruda, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">takes farewell of Gilbert of Ghent, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sails for Cornwall, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">at court of King Alef, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">kills the Pictish giant, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">imprisoned by King Alef, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">released by King Alef’s daughter, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sails for Ireland, <a href="#Page_346">346</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sails for Cornwall with Prince Sigtryg, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">obtains admission to Haco’s bridal feast, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">learns Haco’s plans, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slays Haco and helps to rescue Cornish princess, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">known as Hereward the Saxon, the Champion of Women, <a href="#Page_351">351</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Herod.</span> Constantine declared more cruel than, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Het-ware, The.</span> Expedition against, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Highlands.</span> Gaelic, old ballads, heroes in, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">ballads, merely versions of Irish Gaelic hero-legends, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Irish Gaelic hero-legends carried from Erin to, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hildeburh, Queen.</span> Deeds of, chanted in Heorot, <a href="#Page_19">19</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hnæf</span> (năf). Deeds of, chanted in Heorot, <a href="#Page_19">19</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Holy_Cross" id="Holy_Cross"></a><span class="smcap">Holy Cross.</span> Constantine’s vision of, +<a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, +<a href="#Page_51">51</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">his desire to find, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Elene’s quest after, <a href="#Page_54">54-62</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Judas confesses to knowledge of sacred truth of, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Judas refuses to reveal <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> +place of, at first, but is prevailed upon by starvation, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the “Day” of, ordained, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Holy Innocents.</span> Constantine declared more cruel than Herod, who killed the, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Holy Land.</span> Black Colin receives tidings of fresh crusade in, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">sets out for, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin’s desire to see, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Holy Nails.</span> Obtained by Elene, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">given to Constantine, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Holy Rood.</span> King Arthur vows by, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">giant forces him to swear by, <a href="#Page_270">270</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Holy Sepulchre.</span> Black Colin’s desire to see, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Holy Tree.</span> See <a href="#Holy_Cross"><b>Holy Cross</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Homer.</span> Greeks of, early Britons, and Irish Celts, racial affinity between, +<a href="#Page_184">184</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hood, Robin.</span> See <a href="#Robin_Hood"><b>Robin Hood</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Horn" id="Horn"></a><span class="smcap">Horn.</span> His story originally a story of Viking raids, +<a href="#Page_286">286</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">son of King Murry and Queen Godhild, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Athulf, and next Fikenhild, his favourite companions, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">captured by Saracens, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">cast adrift upon the sea, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">lands on shore of Westernesse, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">questioned by King of Westernesse, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">adopted by King Ailmar, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Athelbrus trains as a knight, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">loved by Princess Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Athulf personates before Princess Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">welcomed to Rymenhild’s bower, and hears her declaration of love, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, +<a href="#Page_295">295</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">dubbed knight, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his first exploit, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">spied on by Fikenhild, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">banished by King Ailmar, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sails for Ireland, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">serves King Thurston under name of Cuthbert, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slays the giant emir, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">King Thurston offers his kingdom and daughter to, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">receives letter from Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">reveals his identity to King Thurston and implores his help, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">returns to Westernesse, accompanied by Irish knights, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">in disguise, visits Rymenhild’s wedding feast, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his stratagem to test Rymenhild’s love, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the fictitious death of, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">reveals his identity to Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">arranges with Athulf to deliver Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">weds Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">reconquers Suddene, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">finds his mother, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">crowned King of Suddene, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">warned in dream of Rymenhild’s danger, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his return to Westernesse, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slays Fikenhild, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">dwells at Suddene with Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Howard the Halt.</span> Popular Icelandic saga, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">famous Viking, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Biargey, wife of, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Olaf, son of, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">upbraids Olaf, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">removes from Bathstead, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">mourns Olaf’s death, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">claims wergild for Olaf, <a href="#Page_106">106-111</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sheltered by Steinthor, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">urged by Biargey to seek vengeance, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, +<a href="#Page_113">113</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">seeks help of Valbrand, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slays Thorbiorn, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sheltered by Steinthor, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">judgment of Thing against, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his nephews exiled, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hrethel</span> (rethel). Father of Hygelac and grandfather of Beowulf, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Beowulf and the king’s sons, Herebeald, Hathcyn, and Hygelac, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Beowulf recites his death, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hrethric</span> (re´th-ric). Son of Hrothgar; succeeds his father, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hrothgar</span> (roth´gār). Great-grandson of Scyld, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">builds the hall Heorot, or “The Hart,” <a href="#Page_3">3</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">grief of, over Grendel’s fierce ravages, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">champions offer aid to, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Geats conducted to, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">son of Healfdene, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Wealhtheow, wife of, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rejoices over Beowulf’s victory, <a href="#Page_18">18-29</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Aschere, thane of, carried off by Grendel’s mother, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">grief <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> +of, over loss of Aschere, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">succeeded by his son Hrethric, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hrunting</span> (runting). Hunferth’s sword, lent Beowulf for the purpose of attacking Grendel’s +mother, <a href="#Page_23">23-25</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hugas.</span> See <a href="#Huns"><b>Huns</b></a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hugh the Raven.</span> Youngest son of Grim; accompanies Havelok to Denmark, <a href="#Page_87">87</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Humber.</span> Grim arrives in, <a href="#Page_81">81</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hunferth.</span> Hrothgar’s orator, jealous of Beowulf, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">lends Beowulf his sword, Hrunting, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Huns" id="Huns"></a><span class="smcap">Huns.</span> Form a confederation with the Goths, Franks, and Hugas to +overthrow Constantine, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Romans conquer by Cross standard, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hygd.</span> Wife of King Hygelac; hails Beowulf’s return to Geatland, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, +<a href="#Page_30">30</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">offers crown to Beowulf, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hygelac</span> (hē´gĕ-lac). King of Geats, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">son of King Hrethel, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">brother-in-law of Ecgtheow, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">uncle of Beowulf, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hails Beowulf’s return to Geatland, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Beowulf chief champion of, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slain in expedition against the Hetware, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">succeeded by his son, Heardred, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">brought up with brothers, Herebeald and Hathcyn, and Beowulf, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="I" id="I"></a>I<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Icefirth.</span> Thorbiorn in, <a href="#Page_97">97</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Iceland.</span> Christian faith in, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Icelandic.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. Saga, “Howard the Halt,” <a href="#Page_96">96</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Ghosts, reference to, <a href="#Page_96">96</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Innis Eoalan.</span> The Lady of Loch Awe builds a castle on ruins of White House on, +<a href="#Page_257">257</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Innocents, Holy.</span> Constantine declared more cruel than Herod, who killed the, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Ireland" id="Ireland"></a><span class="smcap">Ireland.</span> Characteristics common to people of, +<a href="#Page_156">156</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">known in olden Europe as “Isle of Saints,” <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Gospel preached to people of, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">High King of, convinced of truth of Trinity, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">strife in, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">famine in, <a href="#Page_159">159-183</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">famine tempts people to revolt from the True Faith, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">demons arrive in, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Cuchulain without fear among the champions of, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn at, <a href="#Page_301">301-304</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn touches at, on way to Suddene, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sigtryg, son of a Danish king, in, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward sails for, <a href="#Page_346">346</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Irish.</span> Relation of literature, to Greek literature, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Celts, early Britons, and Greeks of Homer, one stock, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">heroes, and legends concerning, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Isle of Saints.</span> See <a href="#Ireland"><b>Ireland</b></a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Italy.</span> Claims Roland in guise of Orlando, Orlando Furioso, Orlando Innamorato, +<a href="#Page_121">121</a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="J" id="J"></a>J<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Jerusalem" id="Jerusalem"></a><span class="smcap">Jerusalem.</span> The place where Christ suffered, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Elene’s quest in, to find the sacred Cross, <a href="#Page_54">54-62</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Constantine and Elene build a glorious church in, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Cyriacus (Judas) Bishop of, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">messenger to Black Colin familiar with all holy places in, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin as a pilgrim at, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Jesus Christ.</span> The Cross the sign of, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the Resurrection and Ascension of, preached to Constantine, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Jews.</span> Elene’s quest to land of, to find sacred Cross, <a href="#Page_55">55-58</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the Chosen People, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">summoned, but dismissed in peace, by Elene, <a href="#Page_58">58</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">John.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. Son of Sir John of the Marshes, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">Gamelyn left in charge of, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">Gamelyn resists, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">his great feast, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">put in chains by Gamelyn, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">proclaims Gamelyn <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> +a wolf’s-head, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">his death by hanging, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Little. See <a href="#Little_John"><b>Little John</b></a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Joseph</span> and his brethren, “Gamelyn,” a version of story of, <a href="#Page_204">204</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Judæa.</span> See <a href="#Jerusalem"><b>Jerusalem</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Judas.</span> Grandson of Zacchæus; confesses to knowledge of secret truth of Holy Tree, +<a href="#Page_57">57</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">refuses at first to disclose the secret place of the Holy Cross, but is prevailed upon by starvation, +<a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">baptismal name Cyriacus, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Ganelon compared with, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Judgment, Day of</span>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Julius Cæsar</span> and early Britons, <a href="#Page_184">184</a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="K" id="K"></a>K<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Kay, Sir.</span> Steward of King Arthur’s household, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">jeers at loathly lady, <a href="#Page_277">277</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Kent.</span> Earldom of, held by Godwin, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Kerry.</span> Champions drive to, <a href="#Page_196">196</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Kilchurn Castle.</span> New castle built with rents of Glenurchy, <a href="#Page_264">264</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Knight of Courtesy.</span> The true, is Sir Gawayne, King Arthur’s nephew, <a href="#Page_265">265</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Knight of Loch Awe.</span> Equivalent, Black Colin Campbell, <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Kynon.</span> Son of Eudav, grandson of Caradoc, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="L" id="L"></a>L<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lady of Glenurchy.</span> Grief of, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the gold ring token, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">wooed by Baron MacCorquodale, <a href="#Page_254">254-257</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">receives forged letter, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">her stratagem to delay her marriage, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">builds a castle on ruins of White House on Innis Eoalan, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">recognises and welcomes her husband, <a href="#Page_262">262</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lady of Loch Awe.</span> Same as Lady of Glenurchy, <a href="#Page_251">251</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lae-gai´re.</span> Bricriu urged to claim title of, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Fedelm, wife of, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">awarded Champion’s Portion by Queen Meave, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">claim tested by Curoi, <a href="#Page_196">196-203</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">disgraced by Uath, <a href="#Page_201">201</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lancelot, Sir.</span> A Knight of the Round Table, <a href="#Page_266">266</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lea, Sir Richard of the.</span> Stranger guest of Robin Hood’s, <a href="#Page_323">323</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Leith.</span> Black Colin takes ship at, for Holy Land, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lendabair.</span> Conall’s wife, <a href="#Page_189">189</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Leofric.</span> Earl of Mercia, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Lady Godiva, wife of, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward, second son of, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hall of Bourne, home of, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his wrath kindled against Hereward, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">asks for writ of outlawry against Hereward, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward bids farewell to, <a href="#Page_339">339</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Leofricsson, Hereward.</span> See <a href="#Hereward"><b>Hereward</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Leve</span> (lāvĕ). Wife of Grim the fisherman, <a href="#Page_78">78</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Lightfoot" id="Lightfoot"></a><span class="smcap">Lightfoot, Martin.</span> Hereward’s follower who +accompanied him into exile, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">assists Hereward in his trick on Norman knights, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, +<a href="#Page_342">342</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">cast into prison by King Alef, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">released by King Alef’s daughter, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lincoln.</span> Grim carries fish to, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Havelok goes to, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Havelok becomes porter, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Havelok’s fame in, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Godrich summons his army to, against Havelok, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Godrich’s trial and death at, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Little_John" id="Little_John"></a><span class="smcap">Little John.</span> One of Robin Hood’s followers, +<a href="#Page_315">315</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">searches the stranger knight’s coffer, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">counts out four hundred pounds to stranger guest, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>, +<a href="#Page_323">323</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">acts as squire to Sir Richard of the Lea, <a href="#Page_323">323-327</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Loathly Lady, The</span>, and King Arthur, <a href="#Page_271">271-274</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">demands of King Arthur a young and handsome knight for husband, as +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> price of her help, +<a href="#Page_274">274</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sir Gawayne offers to wed, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sir Kay jeers at, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">her betrothal to Sir Gawayne, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">her marriage with Sir Gawayne, <a href="#Page_280">280</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">set free from magic spells, <a href="#Page_281">281-285</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Loch Awe.</span> See <a href="#Loch_Awe"><b>Awe, Loch</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">London.</span> Visit to, of William of Cloudeslee and fellow outlaws, <a href="#Page_241">241</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Louis.</span> Charlemagne’s son, Count of the Marshes, promised to Aude the Fair, +<a href="#Page_155">155</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lugh of the Long Hand.</span> Great god, reputed father of Cuchulain, <a href="#Page_185">185</a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="M" id="M"></a>M<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mabinogion.</span> A series of Welsh legends; glorifies marriage of British princess Helena and +Constantine, <a href="#Page_42">42</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">MacCorquodale, Baron.</span> Wooes the Lady of Loch Awe, <a href="#Page_254">254-257</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">his stratagem of a forged letter, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hears of Black Colin’s return, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">MacGregors.</span> Expelled from Glenurchy, <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mahomet.</span> Saracens declare determination to win land of Suddene according to law of, +<a href="#Page_287">287</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">faith of, thrown off by Saracens for the true faith, <a href="#Page_310">310</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mairi.</span> Old widow in whose house the demon traders lived, <a href="#Page_173">173</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Marsile.</span> King of Moors; defies Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">idols of, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Blancandrin’s advice to, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sends an embassage to Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">offers to become a Christian, <a href="#Page_124">124-126</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Ganelon sent to, with Charlemagne’s terms, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Ganelon’s reception by, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">takes counsel with leaders, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">swears on the book of Law of Mahomet the treacherous death of Roland, +<a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">pursues the Frankish army, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Roland slays only son of, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">mortally wounded, he returns to Saragossa, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his death, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Martin.</span> See <a href="#Lightfoot"><b>Lightfoot</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Masses.</span> Of the Father, of the Holy Spirit, of Our Lady, heard daily by Robin Hood, +<a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Maxen_Wledig" id="Maxen_Wledig"></a><span class="smcap">Maxen Wledig.</span> “The Dream of,” preserved +in the “Mabinogion,” <a href="#Page_42">42-49</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Emperor of Rome, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">expedition down the Tiber, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his vision near Rome, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his vision declared, <a href="#Page_44">44-47</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">ambassadors sent out to find the maiden of his dream, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, +<a href="#Page_48">48</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">journeys himself to land of Arvon, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">conquers Britain from Beli, son of Manogan, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">weds Helena, daughter of Eudav, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Constantine, son of, the only British-born Emperor of Rome, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Maxentius.</span> Emperor; hero of Welsh saga “Mabinogion,” <a href="#Page_42">42</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Maximian.</span> The Emperor; father of Fausta, who became Constantine’s wife, +<a href="#Page_64">64</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mead.</span> Dwelling-place of Guest the Wise, <a href="#Page_103">103</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Meave.</span> Queen of Connaught, wife of King Ailill; to decide claims to title of Chief +Champion, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">pronounces judgment, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mercia.</span> Earldom of, held by Leofric, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Modi.</span> King of Reynes; wooes Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">slain by Horn, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">land of, committed to care of Sir Athelbrus, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mona.</span> Sacred isle of; same as Anglesey; ambassadors of Maxen Wledig view, +<a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> +<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Montjoie! Montjoie!</span>” Battle cry of Franks, under Roland, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, +<a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Moors.</span> Rulers of, and Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">and Franks meet in battle, <a href="#Page_140">140</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mordred, Sir.</span> One of King Arthur’s nephews, <a href="#Page_266">266</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Most High.</span> Grendel outcast from mercy of, <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> +<span class="smcap">Much.</span> One of Robin Hood’s followers, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">assists to count out gold for stranger guest, <a href="#Page_323">323</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Murry.</span> King of Suddene, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Queen Godhild consort of, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn, son of, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">attacked and slain by Saracens, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="N" id="N"></a>N<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Naesi.</span> Irish hero, <a href="#Page_156">156</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Nails, The Holy.</span> Obtained by Elene, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">given to Constantine, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Naimes, Duke.</span> One of Charlemagne’s Twelve Peers, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, +<a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">urges Charlemagne to hasten to rescue of Roland, <a href="#Page_146">146</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Norman England.</span> Royal authority in, how asserted, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Normans.</span> Or Flemings; Hereward enrolled among, to qualify for knighthood, +<a href="#Page_339">339</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward’s trick on, with Fairy Bear, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Norse</span> influence in connection with story of “King Horn,” <a href="#Page_286">286</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Norsemen.</span> Firm hold of blood-feud on imagination of, <a href="#Page_96">96</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">North Country.</span> Equivalent, Ulster, <a href="#Page_165">165</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">North Sea.</span> Forefathers who dwelt on shores of, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">ambassadors of Maxen Wledig reach, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Northumbria.</span> Inheritance of Anlaf, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">writ of outlawry against Hereward only of nominal weight in, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Earl Siward ruler in, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward leaves, <a href="#Page_342">342</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Nottinghamshire.</span> The Sheriff of, and Robin Hood, <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="O" id="O"></a>O<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Odin.</span> The raven, the bird of, <a href="#Page_115">115</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Oisin.</span> Scotch embodiment of Ossian, <a href="#Page_248">248</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Olaf.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. Same as Anlaf, &c., <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Son of famous Viking, Howard the Halt, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">finds Thorbiorn’s lost sheep, <a href="#Page_98">98-100</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">kills a wizard, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">second fight with the wizard’s ghost, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">wooes Sigrid, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">meets Thorbiorn, <a href="#Page_103">103-106</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">his death, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">Howard claims wergild for, <a href="#Page_106">106-111</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">wergild awarded for, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Olifant.</span> Roland’s horn, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">blown by Roland, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Roland’s dying blast on, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Oliver.</span> One of Charlemagne’s Twelve Peers, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, +<a href="#Page_136">136</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">descries the Saracens and proclaims Ganelon’s treason, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">appeals to Roland to blow his horn, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hauteclaire, sword of, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">objects to Roland blowing his horn, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">mortally wounded by Marsile’s uncle, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">under misapprehension, strikes Roland with Hauteclaire, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his death, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">avenged by Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Oona.</span> Cathleen’s foster-mother, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">her vision, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Orchy.</span> River, running through Glenurchy, <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Orestes.</span> Reference to Electra and, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Orlando, etc.</span> Italy claims Roland in guise of, <a href="#Page_121">121</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ossian.</span> Hero in Gaelic Highland poems, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Scotch embodiment of Oisin, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Otho.</span> Son of Sir John of the Marshes, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">becomes surety for Gamelyn, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">arrested owing to failure of Gamelyn to appear at court, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">released by Gamelyn, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sits on judge’s seat with Gamelyn and condemns Sir John, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">appointed sheriff by King Edward I., <a href="#Page_224">224</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">makes Gamelyn his heir, <a href="#Page_224">224</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Our Lady.</span> Robin Hood accepts her surety for four hundred pounds lent to stranger +guest, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the Black Monk and the suretyship, <a href="#Page_331">331-333</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Outlaws.</span> Famous: Hereward, Robin Hood, William of Cloudeslee, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> <a href="#Page_226">226</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">pardoned by king, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rules of, in case of Robin Hood, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">their feast, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, +<a href="#Page_330">330</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="P" id="P"></a>P<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Pampeluna.</span> Taken by Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Paradise.</span> Cathleen’s soul in, <a href="#Page_182">182</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Patterson.</span> Name of foster-parents of Black Colin, <a href="#Page_250">250</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Peers.</span> Of France, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the champions of the Moors challenge the Twelve, of France, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">of Charlemagne, triumph over Marsile’s twelve champions, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">their death, <a href="#Page_143">143-153</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">avenged by Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Penelope.</span> Lady of Loch Awe turns to guile, as did, <a href="#Page_256">256</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">People of the Hills.</span> Cuchulain’s friends among, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, +<a href="#Page_199">199</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Persia.</span> Constantine’s valour in wars in, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">physicians from, with remedies for Constantine’s leprosy, <a href="#Page_65">65</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Peter and Paul.</span> The Apostles; appear in a vision to Constantine, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, +<a href="#Page_71">71</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Pictish Giant.</span> King Alef’s daughter betrothed to, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">slain by Hereward, <a href="#Page_343">343</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Plantagenets.</span> England under, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Pope.</span> Head of Holy Catholic Church, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">proclaims Holy War at Rome, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sees Black Colin, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">regarded by Black Colin as Vicar of Christ on earth, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Priam.</span> Reference to lament of, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Pyrenees.</span> Charlemagne’s march through passes of, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Frankish army marches toward, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="R" id="R"></a>R<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ranald.</span> King of Waterford, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>, <a href="#Page_346">346</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Prince Sigtryg, son of, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward at feast of, <a href="#Page_346">346</a>, <a href="#Page_347">347</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ranaldsson, Sigtryg.</span> See <a href="#Sigtryg"><b>Sigtryg</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Red Branch.</span> Heroes of, invited to feast by Bricriu, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">heroes return to, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Uath, the Stranger, comes to, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">heroes of, and Uath, the Stranger, <a href="#Page_199">199-203</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">champions of, identical with Highland Gaelic heroes, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Reynes.</span> Modi, King of, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">wooes Rymenhild, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Reynild.</span> Daughter of King Thurston; offered to Horn, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">weds Sir Athulf, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Rhine.</span> Black Colin’s journey up, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Rhodes.</span> Black Colin journeys to, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">supposed news from, by man of Black Colin’s band, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Richard, Sir, of the Lea</span>, Robin Hood’s stranger-guest, <a href="#Page_317">317-324</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Robin Hood’s loan to, <a href="#Page_322">322-324</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his land in Uterysdale, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">redeems his land from Abbot of St. Mary’s, <a href="#Page_324">324-327</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sets out to repay loan, <a href="#Page_328">328</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">defends the right at a wrestling contest, <a href="#Page_328">328</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">arrives before Robin Hood to repay loan, but is exempt, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">returns to Uterysdale, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his power used to protect the outlaws, <a href="#Page_333">333</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Robert the Red.</span> Eldest son of Grim; accompanies Havelok to Denmark, +<a href="#Page_87">87</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Robin_Hood" id="Robin_Hood"></a><span class="smcap">Robin Hood.</span> Romantic sympathy with, +<a href="#Page_225">225</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">one of the famous outlaws, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the original, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">forest of Barnesdale at one time his dwelling-place, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, +<a href="#Page_315">315</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sherwood Forest, headquarters of, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Little John, Will Scarlet, and Much, his three most loyal followers, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">three Masses heard by, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sends his followers to Watling Street, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his outlaw rules, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">stranger guest brought to, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">lends stranger guest <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> +four hundred pounds, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sends his followers again to Watling Street, <a href="#Page_329">329</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his followers capture and bring to greenwood, as guest, the Black Monk, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">appropriates gold of the Black Monk as payment of loan to Sir Richard of the Lea, +<a href="#Page_331">331</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">exempts Sir Richard from repayment of four hundred pounds, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">dwells securely in the greenwood under Sir Richard’s protection, <a href="#Page_333">333</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Roland.</span> Charlemagne’s nephew; fame of, in romance, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">historical basis of legend of, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">in Spanish legend, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">“Saga” in French literature, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">“Chanson de Roland” and, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">one of the Twelve Peers, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">destruction plotted by Blancandrin and Ganelon, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, +<a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">plants his banner on topmost summit of Pyrenees, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">appointed to command rearguard, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">appealed to by Oliver to blow his horn, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his army defeats Saracens, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">defeats second Saracen army, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">attacked by third Saracen army, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">willing to blow horn, but Oliver objects, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">blows Olifant, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Charlemagne hastens to rescue of, but arrives too late, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slays only son of Marsile, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">smitten by Oliver in mistake, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">set upon by four hundred Saracens, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">realising death near, he tries to destroy sword Durendala, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his death, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">avenged by Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Roman Empire.</span> Charlemagne head of, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Romans.</span> Conquer Huns by the Cross standard, <a href="#Page_52">52</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Rome.</span> Church of, Constantine’s generosity to, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Maxen Wledig seeks rest near, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Princess Helena hailed Empress of, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Constantine calls a council of all wisest men in, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin’s messenger just home from, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Holy War proclaimed by Pope at, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin reaches, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Black Colin’s supposed letter from, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Roncesvalles.</span> Roland’s glory from, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">celebrated in “Song of Altobiscar,” <a href="#Page_120">120</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Spain claims part of honour of, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the battle of, <a href="#Page_140">140-153</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Roncevaux.</span> Same as Roncesvalles, <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Round Table.</span> Knights of, <a href="#Page_266">266</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Rymenhild.</span> Princess, daughter of King Ailmar;<br /> +<span class="in1">loves Horn, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Athulf personates Horn before, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">welcomes Horn in her bower and declares her love, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">wishes Horn good success as knight, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">gives token to Horn, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">spied on by Fikenhild, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">wooed by King Modi, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">writes to Horn through Athulf, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn at wedding-feast of, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn’s stratagem to test her love, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">her knight and lover, Horn, restored, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">wedded to Horn, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">left to her father’s care, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">demanded in marriage by traitor, Fikenhild, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">delivered by Horn, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">dwells at Suddene as queen, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="S" id="S"></a>S<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Samson.</span> Peer of Charlemagne; mortally wounded, <a href="#Page_143">143</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Saracen-s.</span> Host, encamps near Franks, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">pursue the Frankish army, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">chiefs vow to slay Roland, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">defeat of, by Roland’s army, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">second army attacks Roland, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">defeated once more, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">third army attacks Roland, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">their rule in the Holy Land, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn’s hatred of, typical of romance of Crusades, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">attack and slay King Murry, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> +<a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn’s victory over, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Suddene purged of, by Horn, <a href="#Page_310">310</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Saragossa.</span> Charlemagne repulsed at, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">decided to send Ganelon to, as ambassador, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Charlemagne’s threat to take, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Charlemagne receives through Ganelon the keys of, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">captured by Charlemagne, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></span><br /> +<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Sarn Helen.</span>” Roman roads in Wales connecting Helena’s three castles known as, +<a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Saxon England.</span> The maintenance of justice in, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Saxon-s.</span> Hereward the, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the darling hero of the, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Anglo-, chivalry, Hereward the ideal of, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward the, known as the Champion of Women, <a href="#Page_351">351</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Scarlet, Will.</span> Cousin to and one of Robin Hood’s followers, <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Scotland.</span> Hero-myths of, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">national heroes of Lowland, actual, not mythical, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">war between England and, <a href="#Page_249">249</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Scottish Independence.</span> Sir Nigel Campbell one of leaders in cause of, +<a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Scyld Scefing</span> (skild ske´f-ing). Founder of Scyldings dynasty, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">coming to and passing from Denmark, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hrothgar, great-grandson of, <a href="#Page_2">2</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Seven Hills.</span> Rome, the City of, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Maxen Wledig, emperor, rules Europe from, <a href="#Page_43">43</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sherwood, Forest of.</span> Headquarters of Robin Hood, <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Siegfried.</span> Gudrun and, in “Nibelungenlied,” <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sigmund.</span> Father of Fitela; glory of, chanted by Danish bard, <a href="#Page_18">18</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sigrid.</span> Thorbiorn’s housekeeper, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">loved by Olaf, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">quits Thorbiorn’s service, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">disappearance of, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Sigtryg" id="Sigtryg"></a><span class="smcap">Sigt-ryg Ranaldsson.</span> Prince of Waterford; his +troth-plight with King Alef’s daughter, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">son of King Ranald, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward’s mission to, <a href="#Page_345">345-347</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sails for Cornwall to rescue his love, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sends forty Danes to demand fulfilment of troth-plight, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sigtryg and Danes plan ambush for Haco, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rescues, and marries, Cornish princess, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Si´ht-ric-son.</span> Same as Anlaf, Abloec, &c., <a href="#Page_73">73</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sir John of the Marshes.</span> Noble gentleman who lived in Lincolnshire, in reign of +Edward I., <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">father of John, Otho, and Gamelyn, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his death, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Si-ward, Earl.</span> Ruler in Northumbria, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">reputed kinship to Fairy Bear, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Snowdon.</span> Mountainous land of, reached by ambassadors of Maxen Wledig, +<a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Socach.</span> Black Colin’s foster-parents’ dwelling-place, <a href="#Page_250">250</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Souls.</span> The traffic in, during Irish famine, <a href="#Page_170">170-183</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Cathleen tries to check traffic in, <a href="#Page_174">174</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Spain.</span> Charlemagne’s expedition into, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">begins to quit, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">returns to, to rescue Roland, <a href="#Page_146">146</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Spanish Legend.</span> Bernardo del Carpio and Roland in, <a href="#Page_121">121</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Spencer.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. Adam, steward in household of Sir John, releases Gamelyn, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, +<a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Edmund, reference to his Red Cross Knight, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Steinthor of Ere.</span> Great chieftain who shelters Howard, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, +<a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">speaks on Howard’s behalf at the Thing, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">St. John, Knights of.</span> Black Colin takes service with, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Grand Master of, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">St. Mary.</span> Abbey of, in York, lands of stranger knight in pledge to Abbot of, +<a href="#Page_321">321</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">land redeemed by Sir Richard of the Lea, <a href="#Page_324">324-327</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the Black Monk high cellarer in Abbey of, <a href="#Page_331">331</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> +<span class="smcap">St. Patrick.</span> Preached Gospel to people of Ireland, <a href="#Page_157">157</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Suddene.</span> King Murry and Queen Godhild, and son Horn, the royal family of, +<a href="#Page_286">286</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Horn sails for, to wrest from Saracens, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Athulf’s father found at, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn reconquers, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">a Christian realm once more, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn crowned king of, <a href="#Page_311">311</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Swanborow.</span> Daughter of King Birkabeyn, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">slain by Godard, <a href="#Page_76">76</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sweden.</span> Götaland, realm of Geats in south of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Swedes.</span> Slay Hathcyn, son of King Hrethel, <a href="#Page_35">35</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Switzerland.</span> Black Colin and Highland clansmen pass through, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sylvester.</span> Bishop of Rome; and Constantine, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Constantine told in a vision to send for, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">preaches the Christian faith to Constantine, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="T" id="T"></a>T<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Taillefer.</span> “Song of Roland” and, <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Tara.</span> Black stone of, <a href="#Page_157">157</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Tarn Wathelan.</span> Giant in castle near, ill-treats maiden, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">King Arthur’s journey to, and fight with giant who lived in Castle of, +<a href="#Page_269">269</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">King Arthur summons court to hunt near, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the churlish knight of, set free from magic spells, <a href="#Page_284">284</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Teutonic North.</span> Beowulf famous throughout, <a href="#Page_5">5</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thersites.</span> Compared with Bricriu of the Bitter Tongue, <a href="#Page_186">186</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thing.</span> Howard at the, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, +<a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thor-biorn.</span> Mighty chief on shores of Icefirth, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Vakr, nephew of, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Olaf and sheep of, <a href="#Page_98">98-100</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">whale unjustly adjudged to, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">marries sister of Guest, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sigrid leaves, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">meets Olaf, <a href="#Page_103">103-106</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Warflame, magic sword of, <a href="#Page_104">104-106</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">thrusts Olaf with Warflame, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Howard claims wergild from, <a href="#Page_106">106-111</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Guest’s judgment against, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">hailed by Biargey while out fishing, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">slain by Howard, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thor-brand.</span> Brother of Biargey, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">helps Howard against Thorbiorn, <a href="#Page_115">115</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thor-dis.</span> Mother of Vakr; sends second son to assist in fight against Olaf, +<a href="#Page_105">105</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thor-kel.</span> Lawman and arbitrator of Icefirth, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">his false decree concerning a whale, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thor-old.</span> Same as Turoldus; author of “Song of Roland,” <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thurston.</span> King of Ireland; served by Horn, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Harold and Berild, sons of, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">offers kingdom and his daughter Reynild to Horn, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn discloses his identity to, <a href="#Page_304">304</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Tiber.</span> Hunting expedition down, by Maxen Wledig, <a href="#Page_43">43</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Tir-nan-og.</span> The land of never-dying youth, <a href="#Page_163">163</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Tree, The Holy.</span> See <a href="#Holy_Cross"><b>Holy Cross</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Trinity.</span> Truth of, demonstrated by shamrock-leaf, <a href="#Page_157">157</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Trojan War.</span> An ancient story, yet well known, <a href="#Page_58">58</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Tuck" id="Tuck"></a><span class="smcap">Tuck, Friar.</span> Masses sung by, for Robin Hood, +<a href="#Page_318">318</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Turpin.</span> Archbishop of Charlemagne, one of Twelve Peers, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, +<a href="#Page_136">136</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">blesses the knights, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">mediates between Roland and Oliver, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">mortally wounded, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his death, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="index"><a name="U" id="U"></a>U<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Uath, the Stranger.</span> Giant who tests champions, <a href="#Page_199">199-203</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">adjudges Cuchulain Champion of Heroes of all Ireland, <a href="#Page_203">203</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ubbe</span> (ub-bĕ). Danish jarl, friend of King Birkabeyn; befriends +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> +Havelok and Goldborough, <a href="#Page_87">87-93</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">appointed Regent of Denmark for Havelok, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ulster.</span> Fergus commanded to buy food at, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Conor, King of, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Cuchulain peer among champions of, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Armagh, capital of, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Red Branch heroes, royal bodyguard of, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Bricriu stirs up strife among champions of, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, +<a href="#Page_188">188</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Unknown God.</span> Constantine’s acceptance and reverence of the, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">the people awed by token of, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Uterysdale.</span> Land of Sir Richard of the Lea in, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Sir Richard redeems the land, <a href="#Page_324">324-327</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Sir Richard returns to, <a href="#Page_333">333</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="V" id="V"></a>V<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Vakr.</span> Thorbiorn’s nephew, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">mocks Olaf, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">jeers at Brand the Strong, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">accompanies Thorbiorn to meet Olaf, <a href="#Page_103">103-106</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Thordis, mother of, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">his miserable end, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Valbrand.</span> Brother of Biargey, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">visited by Howard, <a href="#Page_114">114</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Valtierra.</span> Charlemagne retires to, on way to France, <a href="#Page_134">134</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Veillantif.</span> Roland’s steed, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">slain by Saracens, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Vicar of Christ</span> on earth, Black Colin regards Pope as, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Vikings.</span> Gospel preached to, <a href="#Page_157">157</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Virgin Mary.</span> Cult of, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Cathleen invokes, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Cathleen’s people invoke, <a href="#Page_181">181</a></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="W" id="W"></a>W<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Wales.</span> Old Roman roads in, that connected Helena’s three castles still known as +“Sarn Helen,” <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">legend of Havelok the Dane thought to have originated in, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">mediæval, Arthurian legend preserved by, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Wallace, Sir William.</span> Scottish hero, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">schoolfellow and comrade of Sir Nigel Campbell, <a href="#Page_249">249</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Warden.</span> Of the coast of Denmark, welcomes Beowulf, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">conducts Geats to Heorot, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Wulfgar, one of Hrothgar’s nobles, greets Beowulf, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">of Geatland, welcomes Beowulf’s return, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Warflame.</span> Magic sword, owned by Thorbiorn, and by which he himself is slain by Howard, +<a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Washers of the Ford.</span> Wrath of, and Irish people, <a href="#Page_158">158</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Waterford.</span> Prince Sigtryg of, his troth-plight with daughter of King Alef, +<a href="#Page_343">343</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Ranald, King of, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Hereward reaches, <a href="#Page_346">346</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Prince and Princess of, Hereward the best friend of, <a href="#Page_351">351</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Watling Street.</span> Robin Hood sends his followers to, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">a year later sends followers once more to, <a href="#Page_329">329</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Wealhtheow</span> (wal-thyow), <span class="smcap">Queen</span>. Wife of Hrothgar; honours +Beowulf, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Welsh.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">1. Legends, “Mabinogion” and “The Dream of Maxen Wledig,” <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in2">Celtic features in, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</span><br /> +<span class="in1">2. Saga, hero of, Emperor Maxentius, <a href="#Page_42">42</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Weohstan</span> (wyo-stan). Father of Wiglaf, who supported Beowulf in his fight with the +fire-dragon, <a href="#Page_36">36</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">West.</span> Constantine a favourite of Roman soldiery of the, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Roman soldiery of the, proclaim Constantine emperor, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the fictitious wanderings of Horn in realms of, <a href="#Page_307">307</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Western Isles.</span> Irish Gaelic hero-legends carried to, from Erin, +<a href="#Page_248">248</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Westernesse.</span> Childe Horn lands on shore of, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Ailmar, King of, questions Horn, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Horn returns to, accompanied by Irish knights, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">recital of the fictitious plans of Horn +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> +to reach, within seven years, <a href="#Page_307">307</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Whitby.</span> Hereward lands at, <a href="#Page_339">339</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Wig-laf.</span> Son of Weohstan; supports Beowulf in his fight with the fire-dragon, +<a href="#Page_36">36-41</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Wilf-ings.</span> Hrothgar shields Ecgtheow from, <a href="#Page_11">11</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">William of Cloudeslee.</span> One of the famous outlaws of England, <a href="#Page_226">226</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">William Tell.</span> William of Cloudeslee the, of England, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Alice, wife of, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">goes to Carlisle, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sheriff informed of his presence, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">attacked by sheriff and his men, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">capture of, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">sheriff sentences to be hanged, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">news of his sentence conveyed to the greenwood, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">Clym’s stratagem to save, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">rescued from death, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">visits London to see king, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">the king pardons, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">shoots apple from son’s head, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>;</span><br /> +<span class="in1">receives royal favours from king and queen, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">William Wendut.</span> Second son of Grim; accompanies Havelok to Denmark, +<a href="#Page_87">87</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Winchester.</span> Godrich takes Goldborough from, to Dover, <a href="#Page_81">81</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Wledig.</span> See <a href="#Maxen_Wledig"><b>Maxen Wledig</b></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Women, Champion of.</span> Hereward known as, <a href="#Page_351">351</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Wyrd</span> (weird). Goddess of Fate, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="Y" id="Y"></a>Y<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">York.</span> Archbishop of, unites in marriage Havelok and Goldborough, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>;<br /> +<span class="in1">Abbot of St. Mary’s Abbey, in, <a href="#Page_321">321</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Yorkshire.</span> Barnesdale, forest in, once dwelling-place of Robin Hood, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, +<a href="#Page_315">315</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Yuletide.</span> King Arthur’s knights keep, <a href="#Page_267">267</a><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="index"><a name="Z" id="Z"></a>Z<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Zacchæus.</span> Grandfather of Judas, <a href="#Page_57">57</a><br /> +</p> + + + +<div class="bbox"> +<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p> + +<p>Minor typographic errors in punctuation have been corrected without note. +Hyphen inconsistencies have been corrected without note where there was a prevalence of +one formation over another.</p> + +<p>There is some variation in spelling, sometimes of proper names, often between the main +text and quoted texts, and a number of archaic words. These remain as printed, unless they were an obvious +typographic error, which were amended as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Page <a href="#Page_48">48</a>—need amended to heed—"... that when their horses +failed they gave no heed, but took others ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_73">73</a>—crystalized amended to crystallized—"These stories finally crystallized in a +form ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_84">84</a>—Havelock amended to Havelok—"... and so, in great fear, Havelok agreed to the +wedding."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_233">233</a>—vension amended to venison—"... William had given the boy many a dinner of +venison, ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_338">338</a>—Whereever amended to Wherever—""Wherever fate and my fortune lead me," ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_355">355</a>—7 amended to 74—"... and Havelok, son of, 74;"</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_358">358</a>—o amended to of—"... Daughter of King Alef, affianced to Prince Sigtryg ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_359">359</a>—Alaf amended to Alef—"Prince Sigtryg sends forty to King Alef, 348;"</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_362">362</a>—Niger amended to Nigel—"Glen belonging to MacGregors, given to Sir Nigel +Campbell, 249;"</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_366">366</a>—Herebald amended to Herebeald—"brought up with brothers, Herebeald and Hathcyn +..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_372">372</a>—missio nto amended to mission to—"Hereward’s mission to, 345-347;"</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_375">375</a>—332 amended to 232—"... capture of, 232;"</p> +</div> + +<p>There were some instances of omitted text; these were all checked against another +edition of the text, and, in the case of the omitted page references, +cross-checked against this edition, and repaired as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Page <a href="#Page_347">347</a>—omitted word (marriage) inserted at the end of the section just prior to "Return to +Cornwall"—"... he would save his betrothed from some other hateful marriage."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_368">368</a>—the entry for London had no page number reference; 241 inserted.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_370">370</a>—the entry for Priam had no page number reference; 95 inserted.</p></div> + +<p>The frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page. Other illustrations +have been moved so that they are near the text they refer to. Some of the illustration +captions have the artist's name included, some do not; these are all reproduced as printed.</p> + +<p>Links have been added to beginning of the Glossary and Index for ease of navigation.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hero-Myths & Legends of the British +Race, by Maud Isabel Ebbutt + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HERO-MYTHS *** + +***** This file should be named 25502-h.htm or 25502-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/5/0/25502/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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