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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3735292 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #53723 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53723) diff --git a/old/53723-8.txt b/old/53723-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a093705..0000000 --- a/old/53723-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3210 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Early English Hero Tales, by Jeannette Marks - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Early English Hero Tales - -Author: Jeannette Marks - -Release Date: December 12, 2016 [EBook #53723] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EARLY ENGLISH HERO TALES *** - - - - -Produced by Shaun Pinder, Haragos Pál and The Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - THROUGH - GOLDEN DOORS - TO - ENGLISH LITERATURE - - - - - THROUGH GOLDEN DOORS - TO - ENGLISH LITERATURE - - A NEW SERIES - BY JEANNETTE MARKS - _Lecturer at Mt. Holyoke College_ - - -The master-stories of English literature told for young readers. The -author, who has been professor of English Literature at Mt. Holyoke -and the author of several successful books for both younger and older -readers, has been occupied for a long time in making a selection of the -best stories from the greatest English writers beginning with "Beowulf" -and the dawn of English letters. - -The present volume offers masterpieces chosen from the earliest English -literature from the seventh to the fourteenth century, stories which -are not readily accessible. - -The second volume will offer hero tales of the Middle English period, -from Chaucer and others. - -In later volumes selections will be made from the masters of modern -English literature. - - - EARLY ENGLISH HERO TALES - From 600 to 1340 - Other books in preparation - _Each illustrated, 12mo, Cloth, 50 cents net_ - HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS - - -[Illustration: MEDIEVAL LONDON -_From Manuscript 16 F. ii in the British Museum_] - - -[Illustration] - - - EARLY - ENGLISH - HERO TALES - - TOLD BY - JEANNETTE MARKS - WELLESLEY M.A. - LECTURER AT MT. HOLYOKE COLLEGE - - ILLUSTRATED - - - [Illustration] - - - HARPER & BROTHERS - NEW YORK & LONDON - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY HARPER & BROTHERS - - - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - PUBLISHED APRIL, 1915 - - - - - TO - H. M. C. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAP. PAGE - - INTRODUCTION vii - - I. THE FIRST ENGLISH HERO 1 - - II. WELSH MAGIC 9 - - III. THE BATTLE AT THE FORD 18 - - IV. CÆDMON THE COWHERD 30 - - V. THE SHEPHERD OF LAUDERDALE 41 - - VI. THE BOY WHO WON A PRIZE 48 - - VII. A FISHERMAN'S BOY 57 - - VIII. THE WEREWOLF 68 - - IX. AT GEOFFREY'S WINDOW 75 - - X. A FAMOUS KITCHEN BOY 85 - - CHRONOLOGY 101 - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS - - - MEDIEVAL LONDON _Frontispiece_ - (From Green's _Short History of the English People_.) - - KINGS IN ARMOR _Page_ 27 - (From Green's _Short History of the English People_.) - - HENRY III. SAILING HOME FROM GASCONY, 1243 " 61 - (From Green's _Short History of the English People_.) - - KNIGHT IN ARMOR " 87 - (From Green's _Short History of the English People_.) - - - - - INTRODUCTION - - -Supposing you were asked to enter a Great Palace? And within that -palace, you were told, were more than a thousand golden doors? And -those doors opened into rooms and upon gardens and balconies, all of -which were the most beautiful of palace rooms and gardens? And some -were more beautiful than anything the world had ever known before? Do -you think you would go through the gate to that palace? - -And if you were told that in the palace were lamps so bright that they -lighted not only the palace, but cast a glow over the whole world? -And that these lamps hung from chains the ends of which you could -not see, just as Pryderi was not able to see the ends of the hanging -golden chains in the palace which he entered? And once within the Great -Palace you were not only better for being there, but also happier and -stronger and more beautiful, and never any more could you be lonely? -It sounds like an Aladdin's lamp, does it not, which, once seen and -touched, could bring so much beauty and power into our lives! Indeed, -it is Aladdin's lamp--the lamp of men's minds and souls. And the Great -Palace is the Palace of English Literature. - -Over those doors are many names written--names never to be forgotten -while the English tongue is spoken. And in that palace there is -fairyland; there are giants and monsters; there are warrior heroes -like Beowulf, and saintly heroes like Cuthbert; there are noble boys -like Alfred; there are poets, princes, lovely ladies, little children, -spirited horses, faithful dogs; there are heard the sound of singing, -the playing of the harp, the beat of feet dancing, cries of gladness, -cries of sorrow, the rolling of the organ, the fluting of birds, the -laughter of water, and the whisper of every wind that has blown upon -the fields of the world; there are seen flowers of every marvelous and -starlike shape, of every rainbow hue, and jewels as shining as the -lamps hanging in the Great Palace, and fruits rare and strange filling -the Great Palace with sweet fragrance and color; there are rooms unlike -any rooms we have ever seen before; and the years are there--nearly -two thousand--numbered and made beautiful; there, too, are Wisdom and -Kindness and Courage and Faith and Modesty and Love and Self-Control, -coming and going hither and yon through the wide hallways or on service -bent up and down the narrow corridors. - -It is a Palace of Enchantment, is it not? Yes, it is a Palace of -Enchantment, and I can think of no greater happiness, no stronger -assurance that we shall learn how to be our best selves and to rule -ourselves, no greater inspiration to be wise and kind while we are -boys and girls, and when we grow up no fuller promise of a good time -and many kinds of happiness and pleasure, than just to take the gate -into that palace, listen to its songs and poems and stories, taste of -its fruits, hold some of its flowers in our hands, grow warm in its -sunshine, dream in its moonlight, and watch the fairies dance with the -feet that dance there, play with its jewels, listen to the whisper of -the winds that blow around the world, lay our hands in the brave hands -of Love and Courage, Wisdom and Kindness, who dwell there; knock on -those golden doors where we would go in and be alone; and come out -again, knowing that we have won the great enchantment, which is the -companionship of beautiful and imperishable story and poem, song and -play. - -It is a wonderful Palace of English Literature in which we shall see -many marvels: the first English hero, Beowulf, and the monster Grendel; -all the fortunes and misfortunes of the little, radiant-browed Welsh -boy called Taliesin, the battle of the friends Cuchulain and Ferdiad, -who were betrayed by the false Irish Queen Maeve; how song came to our -first great English poet, Cædmon, in the cow-stall at the Monastery -of Whitby (670); of the courage of a shepherd lad who had became a -saint, and of even the seals who loved St. Cuthbert (seventh century); -of the young Prince Alfred who won a book as a prize (849-900); of -Havelok, the son of the King of Denmark, who lived with Fisherman Grim -at Grimsby; of a man who was under enchantment as a wolf part of the -week and whom Marie de France called a Werewolf; of all the marvels -that Geoffrey of Monmouth (1147) saw from his window; and especially of -the wonders which King Arthur's magician, Merlin, worked; and of the -red and white dragons that came out of a drained pond; and of a famous -kitchen-boy who became a great knight, and about whom Sir Thomas Malory -tells one exciting adventure in the _Morte d'Arthur_ (1469). - -What boys and girls will enter the gate with me? Shall we go into the -Great Palace to-day? And on what golden door shall we rap first that we -may be admitted? - - J. M. - SOUTH HADLEY, MASS., _January, 1915_. - - - - - - - EARLY ENGLISH HERO TALES - - - - - - EARLY ENGLISH HERO TALES - - - - - I - - THE FIRST ENGLISH HERO - - -[Illustration] - -The first golden door we open in the Great Palace shows us a hero, and -that is as it should be, for the English have always been brave. Yet -probably the poem about this first English hero is not the first poem. -The first is a poem by the name of the "Far Traveller." "Many men and -rulers have I known," says this traveler; "through many strange lands -I have fared throughout the spacious earth." This poem may not be of -great value, but it is a wonderful experience to open this door and -see back, back, back, thousands of years to the very cradle in which -English literature was born. This first Englishman was a wanderer, as -all Englishmen, despite their love of home, have been, or else they -would not hold so many great dominions as they do to-day. Then, too, -there was "Deor's Lament," with its sad refrain, - - _Thas ofer eode, thisses swa maeg_ - (That was overcome, so may this be) - -and its grave thought that "The All-wise Lord of the world worketh -many changes." One more poem, or, better, fragment, is spoken of -in _Beowulf_. "The Fight at Finnesburg" is full of the savagery -and fierceness of warfare; it is even more wild and barbarous than -"Beowulf." - -Now let us open the door over which is written _Beowulf_. It is one -of the oldest and rudest of the golden doors in the Great Palace of -English Poetry, but also one of the most precious. The pictures we are -to see are beautiful sometimes. More often they are cruel and pitiless. - - * * * * * - -The sun was shining, the wind was blowing, the air was as -sweet-smelling as if it rose from fields of lilies, and it was the very -springtime of the world some two thousand years ago. - -By song little Widsith has seen his master bind all men and all beasts. -Not only the fish and worms forgot their tasks, but even the cattle -stopped grazing, and, where they passed, men and children paused to -listen. They were on their way to the Great Hall to have a sight of -the hero, Beowulf. - -Behind them lay the sea and the coast-guard pacing up and down. Before -them, landward, rose a long, high-roofed hall. It had gable ends from -which towered up huge stag-horns. And the roof shone only less brightly -than the sun, for it was covered with metal. - -About the Great Hall toward which little Widsith and the master were -traveling was the village made up of tiny houses, each in its own -patch of tilled ground and apple-trees, and with fields in which sheep -and oxen and horses were pastured. Narrow paths wound in and out -everywhere. In front of the Hall was a broad meadow across which the -king and queen and their lords and ladies were used to walk. - -There was much going on that day in Heorot. Flocks of children were -playing about the pretty paths. Mothers and aunts and older sisters sat -spinning in the open doorways. Beyond the wide meadow young men and -boys were leading or riding spirited horses up and down to exercise -them. - -And all--men, women, and children alike--were talking about Beowulf, -who had come to kill the monster Grendel and free the people of Heorot. - -Beowulf had not much more than entered the Hall when the scôp, or -singer, as little Widsith's master was called, entered too. In those -days singers were welcome everywhere. They saw Beowulf stride mightily -across the many-colored floor of Heorot and go up to the old King. And -they heard his voice, which sounded like the rumble of a heavy sea on -their rock-bound coast. - -"Hrothgar!" he said to the old King, "across the sea's way have I come -to help thee." - -"Of thee, Beowulf, have we need," replied the old King in tears, "for -Heorot has suffered much from the monster." - -"I will deliver thee, Hrothgar," said Beowulf, in his great voice; -"thee and all who dwell in Heorot." - -"Steep and stony are the sea cliffs, joyless our woods and -wolf-haunted, robbed is our Heorot, for to Grendel can no man do aught. -He breaks the bones of my people. And those of my people he cannot eat -in Heorot he drags away on to the moor and devours alive." - -And the old, bald-headed King, seated on his high seat in the Hall -between his pretty daughter and his tired Queen, sighed as he thought -of the approaching night. Yet, now that Beowulf had come, he hoped. - -Together they gathered about the banquet. Beowulf sat among the sons -of the old King. The walls inside were as bright as the roof, and -gold-gilded, and the great fires from which smoke poured out through -openings in the roof were cheerful and warm. - -Then little Widsith's master was called up, and Widsith placed the harp -for him. Clear rose the song from the scôp's lips, and all the company -was still. For a while they forgot the monster which, even now with -the falling dusk, was striding up from the sea, perhaps by the same -path Beowulf and Widsith and the scôp had come. Already it had grown -dark under heaven and darker in the Hall, and the place was filled with -shadowy shapes. - -And now came Grendel stalking from the cloudy cliffs toward the Gold -Hall. It would have been hard for four men to have carried his huge -head, so big it was. The nails of his hands were like iron, and large -as the monstrous claws of a wild beast. And, since there was a spell -upon him, no sword or spear could harm him. - -While others slept--even frightened little Widsith, who had thought he -could never sleep--Beowulf lay awake, ready with his naked hands to -fight Grendel. - -Suddenly the monster smote the door of Heorot, and it cracked asunder. -In he strode, flame in his eyes, and before Beowulf could spring upon -him or any one awake, he snatched a sleeping warrior and tore him to -pieces. - -Beowulf, who had the strength of thirty men in his body, gripped him, -and the dreadful battle and noise began. The benches were overturned, -the walls cracked, the fires were scattered, and dust rose in clouds -from the many-colored floor as Beowulf wrestled with Grendel. - -The scôp had seized his harp and was playing a great battle song, but -music has no power over such evil as Grendel's. Beowulf himself, who -was struggling to break the bone-house of the monster in the din of the -mighty battle, did not hear it, either. And the song was lost in the -noise and dust which rose together in Heorot. - -Even the warriors, who struck Grendel with their swords, could not help -Beowulf, for neither sword nor spear could injure the monster. Only the -might of the hero, himself, could do aught. - -At last, with the strength of thirty men, Beowulf gripped the monster. -And Grendel, with rent sinews and bleeding body, fled away to the -ocean cave where he had lived. And there in the cave, with the sea -blood-stained and boiling above him, he died, outlawed for evil. - - * * * * * - -In the second part of this poem Beowulf was living as king in his own -land, and ruling like the great and brave king he was. But a huge old -dragon who was guarding a treasure was robbed. So angry was the dragon -that he left his heap of treasure and came down upon the land of King -Beowulf, burning it and terrifying the people. Then Beowulf, who had -become an old man, felt that he must fight to save his people. He went -out and slew the dragon, but was himself scorched to death by the fiery -breath of the dragon. - -"Beowulf" is the epic of our old English period. An epic is an -heroic poem. In "Beowulf" the story of Beowulf's great deeds--such -as his struggle with Grendel and Grendel's mother--and of his death -is told. Probably it was sung before the fifth century, when the -English conquered Britain, for England itself is not mentioned in this -wonderful poem. Indeed, the country described is that of the Goths of -Sweden and of the Danes. Your geography will show you where Sweden and -Denmark are. When the English forefathers came to England they brought -this poem with them, perhaps in the form of short poems which were -woven together by a Christian Northumbrian poet in the eighth century -or thereabouts. - -It will be interesting to see how this wild moorland, over which -Grendel stalked and over which the dreadful dragon dragged his length, -became, with the cultivation of the land and advancing civilization, -the gentle and beautiful dwelling of the fairies. The fairies will not -live where it is too wild. - -Much is to be learned from this epic of the customs and the manners of -the men who came to Britain and conquered it. We can see these people -as they lived in their sea-circled settlements, the ships they used to -sail upon the sea, how their villages looked, and the boys and girls -and grown-ups in them; the rocks and hills and ocean waves that made -up their out-of-door world; the good times they had; their games and -amusements. We come to know the respect that was given to their women; -we see the bravery of the men in facing death, and we hear the songs -they sang. - -"Beowulf" is a great poem--English literature knows no poem that is -more sacred to it--but it is a sorrowful poem, too. These people -believed in Fate, for Christ had not yet been brought to them with His -message of love and peace and joy. English poetry to-day is much more -joyous--because it is Christian poetry--than it ever could have been if -England had remained a heathen land. Yet English poetry still has much -in common with "Beowulf," in love of the sea and worship of nature, and -a strange sense of Fate. - -But we must close this door over which is written _Beowulf_, for the -Great Palace is full of many doors and many stories, and we have only -just begun our journey from golden door to golden door. - - - - - II - - WELSH MAGIC - - -On the other side of most of the golden doors through which we shall -pass, our own tongue, English, is spoken. Yet in this wonderful palace, -full of beautiful thoughts and beautiful expression, there are two -doors which when thrown open we may enter, but where our English -would not be understood. They both admit us to the poems and prose of -families of the same race--a race called Celtic. Over one door of this -family, however, is written _Cymric_, and all that is Cymric is written -and spoken in Welsh. On the other door is _Gaelic_, and all that is -Gaelic is Irish and Scotch. And the Great Palace of English Literature, -with its innumerable golden doors, would not be at all the same palace -if it were not for these two little doors, for out of them has come -much that is best in poetry and prose. - -The Welsh were already in Britain when the so-called "English" landed -on the island, and these English, after one hundred and fifty years, -succeeded in driving the Welsh, or Cymru, back to the mountains and -coast on the west of the island. There they lived among the mountains, -holding fast to their customs and to their songs and poetry. And by -and by, when it was time for this miracle to happen, the little golden -door over which was written _Cymric_, or _Welsh_, opened, and out of it -there passed one of the most beautiful story-cycles the world has ever -known, the tales about King Arthur. But of this great story we shall -hear later. - -This little golden door may be the oldest in all the palace, for long -before the Arthur story was born there were other tales which the Cymru -loved. There is a word "prehistoric" which accurately describes some -of these stories known as _Mabinogion_, which means, literally, Tales -for the Children, or Little Ones. This famous book was translated from -Welsh into English by Lady Charlotte Guest in 1838. Among the oldest of -these tales is "Taliesin," which has behind it a prehistoric singer, a -mythic singer. - -And now let us open that door over which is written _Cymric_, or -_Welsh_, and look in. - - * * * * * - -Long ago, at the beginning of King Arthur's time and the famous Round -Table, there lived a man whose name was Tegid Voel. His wife was called -Caridwen. And there was born to them a son, Avagddu, who was the -ugliest boy in all the world. - -When Caridwen looked at Avagddu, and knew beyond any doubt that he was -the ugliest boy in all the world, she was much troubled. Therefore she -decided to boil a caldron of Inspiration and Science for her son, so -that Avagddu might hold an honorable position because of his knowledge. - -Caridwen filled the caldron and began to boil it, and all knew that it -must not cease boiling for one year and a day--that is, until three -drops of Inspiration had been distilled from it. Gwion Bach she put to -stirring the caldron, and Morda, a blind man, was to keep the caldron -boiling day and night for the whole year. And every day Caridwen -gathered charm-bearing herbs and put them in to boil. - -And it was one day toward the close of the year that three drops of the -liquid in the caldron flew out upon the finger of Gwion Bach, who was -stirring the liquid. It burnt him, and he put his finger in his mouth. -Because of the magic of those drops he knew all that was going to -happen. And he was afraid of the wiles of Caridwen, and in fear he ran -away. - -All the liquor in the caldron, except the three charm-bearing drops -that had fallen upon the finger of Gwion Bach, was poisonous, and -therefore the caldron burst. When Caridwen saw the work of her whole -year lost, she was angry and seized a stick of wood. With the stick she -struck Morda on the head. - -"Thou hast disfigured me wrongfully," he said, "for I am innocent." - -"Thou speakest truth," she replied; "it was Gwion Bach robbed me." - -And Caridwen went forth after Gwion Bach, running. - -When little Gwion saw her coming, because of the magic drops that had -touched his finger, he was able to change himself into a hare. But -thereupon Caridwen changed herself into a greyhound, and there was a -race fleeter almost than the wind. Caridwen was nearly upon him when -little Gwion turned toward the river and became a fish. Then Caridwen -changed herself from a greyhound into an otter, and chased little Gwion -under the water. So close was the chase that he had to turn himself -into a bird of the air. Whereupon Caridwen became a hawk and followed -him and gave him no rest in the sky. She was just swooping down upon -him, and little Gwion thought that the hour of his death had come, -when he saw a heap of winnowed wheat on the floor of the barn, and -he dropped into the wheat and turned himself into one of the grains. -And then what do you think happened? Caridwen changed herself into a -high-crested black hen, hopped into the wheat, scratching it with her -feet, found poor little Gwion Bach, who had once been a boy, then in -turn became a rabbit, a fish, a bird of the air, and was now a grain of -wheat. - -Caridwen swallowed him! But so powerful was the magic of those three -drops of Inspiration which had touched his finger, that little Gwion -appeared in the world again, entering it as a beautiful child. And even -Caridwen, because of his beauty, could not bear to kill him, so she -wrapped him in a leathern bag and cast him into the sea. That was on -the twenty-ninth day of April. - -Where Caridwen threw little Gwion into the sea was near the -fishing-weir of Gwyddno by Aberstwyth. And even as Caridwen had the -ugliest son in all the world, so had Gwyddno the most unlucky, and his -name was Elphin. This year Gwyddno had told Elphin that he might have -the drawing of the weir on May Eve. Usually the fish they drew from the -weir were worth about one hundred pounds in good English silver. His -father thought that if luck were ever going to come to Elphin, it would -come with the drawing of the weir on May Eve. - -But on the next day, when Elphin went to look, there was nothing in the -weir except a leathern bag hanging on a pole. - -One of the men by the weir said to Elphin: "Now hast thou destroyed the -virtue of the weir. There is nothing in it but this worthless bag." - -"How now," said Elphin, "there may be in this bag the value of an -hundred pounds." - -They took the bag down from the pole, and Elphin opened it, and as he -opened it he saw the forehead of a beautiful boy. - -"Behold a radiant brow!" cried Elphin. "Taliesin shall he be called." - -Although Elphin lamented his bad luck at the weir, yet he carried the -child home gently on his ambling horse. Suddenly the little boy began -to sing a song in which he told Elphin that the day would come when he -would be of more service to him than the value of three hundred salmon. - -And this song of comfort was the first poem the little, radiant-browed -Taliesin ever sang. But when Gwyddno, the father of Elphin, asked him -what he was, he sang again and told the story of how he had fled in -many shapes from Caridwen; as a frog, as a crow, as a chain, as a rose -entangled in a thicket, as a wolf cub, as a thrush, as a fox, as a -martin, as a squirrel, as a stag's antler, as iron in glowing fire, as -a spear-head from the hand of one who fights, as a fierce bull, as a -bristly boar, and in many other forms, only to be gobbled up in the end -as a grain of wheat by a black hen. - -"What is this?" said Gwyddno to his son Elphin. - -"It is a bard--a poet," the son answered. - -"Alas! what will he profit thee?" - -"I shall profit Elphin more than the weir has ever profited thee," -answered Taliesin. - -And the little, radiant-browed boy began to sing another song: - - - "Wherefore should a stone be hard; - Why should a thorn be sharp-pointed; - Who is hard like flint; - Who is salt like brine; - Who is sweet like honey; - Who rides in the gale?" - - -Then bade he Elphin wager the King that he had a horse better and -swifter than any of the King's horses. Thus Elphin did, and the King -set the day and the time for the race at the place called the Marsh of -Rhiannedd. And thither every one followed the King, who took with him -four-and-twenty of his swiftest horses. - -The course was marked and the horses were placed for running. Then -in came Taliesin with four-and-twenty twigs of holly, which he had -burned black, and he put them in the belt of the youth who was to ride -Elphin's horse. He told this youth to let all the King's horses get -ahead of him; but as he overtook one horse after the other he was to -take one of the burnt twigs of holly and strike the horse over the -crupper, then let the twig fall. This the youth who rode Elphin's horse -was to do to each of the King's horses as he overtook it, and he was -to watch where his own horse should stumble, and throw down his cap on -that spot. - -Thereupon the youth who rode Elphin's horse, and all the King's riders, -pricked forth upon their steeds, their horses with bridles of linked -gold on their heads, and gold saddles upon their backs. And the racing -horses with their shell-formed hoofs cast up sods, so swiftly did they -run, like swallows in the air. Blades of grass bent not beneath the -fleet, light hoofs of the coursers. - -Elphin's horse won the race. Taliesin brought Elphin, when the race was -over, to the place where the horse had stumbled and where the youth had -thrown down his cap as he had been told. Elphin did as Taliesin bade -him and put workmen to dig a hole in this spot. And when they had dug -the ground deep enough, there was found a large caldron full of gold. - -Then said Taliesin: "Elphin, behold! See what I give thee for having -taken me out of the weir and the leathern bag! Is this not worth more -to thee than three hundred salmon?" - - * * * * * - -In the _Mabinogion_ stories, first collected and set down some time in -the twelfth century, we live in a world of enchantment and fairies. -Those tales are full of gold--the gold of a wondrous imagination. -It would be nice if we could keep this door, over which is written -_Welsh_, open long enough so that I might tell you the story of -Pryderi, too, and how Pryderi found a castle where no castle had ever -been, how he entered it and saw "In the center of the castle floor -... a fountain with marble-work around it, and on the margin of the -fountain a golden bowl on a marble slab, and chains hanging from the -air, to which he saw no end." What happened to him when he seized -this cup, how the castle faded away, how the heroes of the story were -changed to mice--for none of this can we hold open the golden door any -longer. The ends of the golden chains of many a story are not to be -seen by us. - - - - - III - - THE BATTLE AT THE FORD - - -It is interesting to think, is it not, that if it had not been for -those two little Celtic doors of gold over one of which was written -_Cymric_, or _Welsh_, and over the other, _Gaelic_, or _Irish_, our -Great Palace of English Literature could not have been the same palace, -nor half so beautiful. It is not only that there would not have been so -many wonderful golden doors leading into story-land, but the stories -themselves would not have been told in the same way. The Scotch, too, -who belong to the Celtic family, are almost as great story-tellers as -the Welsh and Irish. - -When the Roman Tacitus wrote about the Welsh and Irish he said, "Their -language differs little." And even their buildings, Cæsar said, were -"almost similar." What was true of their speech and their buildings -was more true of the gifts they have left in the Great Palace. They -have the same delightful way of telling a story; what they have to say -naturally falls into conversations, and they are quick as a wink in the -wit and fun and beauty and sadness of what they do say. - -This little golden door and the wonderful room beyond it were, perhaps, -longer in being built than the Welsh. These stories and poems of the -Irish were composed at the time of Cæsar and the Christian era. The -epic cycle of Conchubar and Cuchulain is the first group of tales in -Irish literature. They are made up of prose with occasional verses here -and there. The Irish are very clever at invention, and these stories -are among the most wonderful ever written or sung. Among the best of -these stories is one we shall open a door to listen to--the story of -Ferdiad and Cuchulain in "The Battle at the Ford." - -The dialogue in "The Battle at the Ford" shows us plainly how great the -Irish dramatic gift has always been. They were born makers of plays. -Just see how the Irish genius makes Ferdiad and Cuchulain talk, and how -lifelike they are! The story is there, not much changed from what it -was two thousand years ago, and shows all the Irish sense of form. By -sense of form is meant simply the story's way of expressing itself. You -see, a story or poem is like a human being. It has not only thoughts, -but also a body to hold these thoughts. It is because of these two -golden doors, over which are written the words, _Welsh_, _Irish_, that -English Literature is likely to produce most of the great plays which -will be acted, and most of the great novels. - -Every Christian and Jewish boy and girl knows the Bible story of David -and Jonathan--that Jonathan who loved David as his soul, and David -who loved Jonathan more than a brother can love. This friendship of a -king's son with the son of a shepherd was very beautiful and tender and -pure. "The Battle at the Ford" is not so gentle a story, but it is, -nevertheless, and despite the treachery of the Queen and the sad end of -Ferdiad, the David and Jonathan story of Irish Literature. - - * * * * * - -The men of Ireland settled it that Ferdiad and Cuchulain should fight -the next day. But when they sent messengers to fetch Ferdiad he would -not come, for he learned that they wanted him to fight against his -friend Cuchulain. - -Then Maeve, the Queen, sent the Druids after him, who by their hurtful -poems about Ferdiad should raise three blisters on his face--the -blisters of Shame, Blemish, and Reproach. - -So Ferdiad had to come to answer the Queen, Maeve. She offered him -great riches if he would fight against his friend Cuchulain--speckled -satins and silver and gold, with lands, horses, and bridles. - -But to Maeve Ferdiad replied, "If you offered me land and sea I would -not take them without the sun and moon." - -For he loved his friend Cuchulain so that there was no wealth which -could tempt Ferdiad to go out against him to wound him. - -"But," said Maeve, "you shall have your fill of the jewels of the -earth. Here is my brooch with its hooked pin and my daughter, -Findabair." - -"Nay," answered Ferdiad, "these things and all things like unto them -shall remain yours, for there is nothing I would take to go into battle -against my friend Cuchulain. Nothing shall come between him and me--he -who is the half of my heart without fault, and I the half of his own -heart. By my spear, were Cuchulain killed, I would be buried in his -grave--the one grave for the two of us! Misfortune on you, Maeve, -misfortune on you for trying to put your face between us!" - -Then Maeve considered how she should stir him up and thus get her own -ends. - -Aloud she said to her people, "Is it a true word Cuchulain spoke?" - -"What word was that?" asked Ferdiad, sharply. - -"He said," answered Maeve, "that there would be no wonder in it did you -fall in the first trial of arms against him." - -Then was Ferdiad angry. "That had Cuchulain no right to say! If it be -true he said this thing, then will I fight with him to-morrow!" - -At that Fergus left Ferdiad and Maeve, and went out in his chariot to -tell Cuchulain what had happened. - -"I give my word," exclaimed Cuchulain, "for my friend to come against -me is not my wish!" - -"Ferdiad's anger is stirred up," said Fergus, "and he has no fear of -you." - -"Be quiet," replied Cuchulain, "for I can stand against him anywhere!" - -"It will go hard with you getting the better of him," answered Fergus, -"for he has the strength of a hundred." - -"My word and oath," said Cuchulain, "it is I who will be victorious -over Ferdiad." - -Then went Fergus joyfully back to the encampment. But Ferdiad, gloomy -and heavy-hearted, slept only through the early part of the night. -Toward the end of night he told his driver to harness his horses. - -"Ferdiad," said the driver, "it would be better for you to stop here, -for grief will come of that meeting with Cuchulain." - -Yet the chariot was yoked and they went forward to the ford, and day -and its full light came upon them there. Then Ferdiad slept while he -waited for the coming of Cuchulain. - -With the full light of day Cuchulain himself rose up, and said to his -driver, "Laeg, yoke the chariot, for the man who comes to meet us -to-day is an early riser." - -"The horses are harnessed," answered Laeg. - -With that Cuchulain leaped into the chariot, and about him shouted the -people of the gods of Dana, and the witches and the fairies. - -Then Ferdiad's driver heard them coming, the straining of the harness, -the creaking of the chariot, the ringing of the armor and the shields, -and the thunder of the horses' hoofs. - -"Good Ferdiad," said the driver, laying his hand upon his master, "rise -up. Cuchulain comes, and he is coming not slowly, but quick as the wind -or as water from a high cliff or like swift thunder." - -And they saw Cuchulain coming, swooping down on them like a hawk from a -cliff on a day of hard wind. Cuchulain drew up on the north side of the -ford. - -"I am happy at your coming," said Ferdiad. - -"Till this day would I have been glad to hear that welcome," answered -Cuchulain; "but now it is no longer the welcome of a friend." - -Then each spoke unfriendly words and each began to boast. - -"Before the setting of the sun to-night," said Ferdiad, "you will be -fighting as with a mountain, and it is not white that battle will be." - -"You are fallen into a gap of danger," answered Cuchulain, "and the end -of your life has come." - -"Leave off your boasting," shouted Ferdiad, "you heart of a bird in a -cage, you giggling fellow." - -But to this Cuchulain replied, "You were my heart companion, you were -my people, you were my family--I never found one who was dearer." - -"What is the use of this talk?" asked Ferdiad. - -"Good Ferdiad," answered Cuchulain, "it is not right for you to come -out against me through the meddling of Maeve. Do not break your -oath not to fight with me. Do not break friendship. We were heart -companions, comrades, and sharing one bed." - -And Ferdiad answered: "Do not be remembering our companionship, for it -will not protect you this day. It is I will give you your first wounds." - -Then began they with their casting weapons--their round-handled spears -and their little quill spears and their ivory-hilted knives and their -ivory-hafted spears, and these weapons were flying to and fro like -bees on the wing on a summer's day. Yet good as the throwing was, the -defense was better, and neither hurt the other. There was no cast that -did not hit the protecting shields, and by noon their weapons were all -blunted against the faces and bosses of the shields. - -So they left these weapons and took to their straight spears. And from -the middle of midday till the fall of evening each threw spears at the -other. But good as the defense was, in that time each wounded the other. - -"Let us leave this, now," said Ferdiad. - -Then each came to the other and put his hands around the neck of the -other and gave him three kisses. And that night one inclosure held -their horses and at one fire sat their chariot-drivers. And of every -healing herb that was put on Cuchulain's wounds Cuchulain sent an equal -share westward across the ford for the wounds of Ferdiad. And of food -and drink Ferdiad sent a fair share northward to Cuchulain and his men. - -And in the morning they rose up and came to the ford of battle. - -"What weapons shall we use to-day?" asked Cuchulain. - -"To-day is your choice, for I made the choice yesterday," answered -Ferdiad. - -"Then let us take our great broad spears, for so by the end of evening -shall we be nearer the end of the fight." - -From the twilight of the early morning till the fall of evening each -cut at and wounded the other, till, were it the custom of birds in -their flight to pass through the bodies of men, they might have done so -on this day. - -"Let us stop from this, now," said Cuchulain, "for our horses and men -are tired and down-hearted. Let us put the quarrel away for a while." - -So they threw their spears into the hands of their chariot-drivers, -and each put his hand around the neck of the other and gave him three -kisses. And that night they slept on wounded men's pillows their -chariot-drivers had made for them. A full share of every charm and -spell used to cure the wounds of Cuchulain was sent to Ferdiad. And of -food Ferdiad sent a share. - -Again early on the morrow they came to the ford of battle, and there -was a dark look on Ferdiad that day. - -"It is bad you are looking to-day," said Cuchulain. - -"It is not from fear or dread of you I am looking this way," answered -Ferdiad. - -"No one has ever put food to his lips, Ferdiad, and no one has ever -been born for whose sake I would have hurt you." - -"Cuchulain," cried Ferdiad, "it was not you, but Maeve, who has -betrayed us, and now my word and my name will be worth nothing if I go -back without doing battle with you." - -And that day they fought with their swords, and each hacked at the -other from dawn till evening. When they threw their swords from them -into the hands of their chariot-drivers, their parting that night was -sad and down-hearted. - -Early the next morning Ferdiad rose up and went by himself to the ford, -and there clad himself in his shirt of striped silk with its border -of speckled gold, over that a coat of brown leather, and on his head -a crested helmet of battle. Taking his strong spear in his right hand -and sword in his left, he began to show off very cunningly, wonderful -feats that were made up that day by himself against Cuchulain. - -[Illustration: KINGS IN ARMOR -_MS. Camb. Univ. Libr. Ee. iii. 59_ C. A.D. 1245] - -But when Cuchulain came to the ford, it was his turn to choose the -weapons for the day. And they fought all the morning. By midday the -anger of each was hot upon him, and Cuchulain leaped up onto the bosses -of Ferdiad's shield, but Ferdiad tossed him from him like a bird on -the brink of the ford, or as foam is thrown from a wave. Then did -Cuchulain leap with the quickness of the wind and the lightness of a -swallow, and lit on the boss of Ferdiad's shield. But Ferdiad shook his -shield and cast Cuchulain from him. Cuchulain's anger came on him like -flame; and so close was the fight that their shields were broken and -loosened, that their spears were bent from their points to their hilts; -and so close was the fight that they drove the river from its bed, and -that their horses broke away in fear and madness. - -Then Ferdiad gave Cuchulain a stroke of the sword and hid it in his -body. And Cuchulain took his spear, Gae Bulg, cast it at Ferdiad, and -it passed through his body so that the point could be seen. - -"O Cuchulain," cried Ferdiad, when Gae Bulg pierced him, "it was not -right that I should fall by your hand! My end is come, my ribs will not -hold my heart. I have not done well in the battle." - -Then Cuchulain ran toward him and put his two arms about him, and laid -him by the ford northward. And he began to keen and lament: "What are -joy and shouting to me now? It is to madness I am driven after the -thing I have done. O Ferdiad, there will never be born among the men of -Connaught who will do deeds equal to yours! - -"O Ferdiad, you were betrayed to your death! You to die, I to be -living. Our parting for ever is a grief for ever! We gave our word -that to the end of time we would not go against each other. - -"Dear to me was your beautiful ruddiness, dear to me your comely form, -dear to me your clear gray eye, dear your wisdom and your talk, and -dear to me our friendship! - -"It was not right you to fall by my hand; it was not a friendly ending. -My grief! I loved the friend to whom I have given a drink of red blood. -O Ferdiad, this thing will hang over me for ever! Yesterday you were -strong as a mountain. And now there is nothing but a shadow!" - - - - - IV - - CÆDMON THE COWHERD - - -A very great modern poet, Coleridge, who wrote "The Ancient Mariner," -said that prose was words in their best order, but that _poetry was the -best words in their best order_. This is a simple and good definition -of poetry. Yet there is even more than best words in their best order -in the room beyond the door over which is written _Poetry_. Perhaps, -however, beautiful words in their best order would always teach us to -find what is beautiful and to love the good. I do not know. Do you? - -Cædmon's poem, written about 670, marks the beginning of English -poetry in Great Britain, for "Beowulf" was first sung in another -land--the land of the conquerors of England--before it was brought -to British soil. The verses of Cædmon's poetry are as stormy as the -sea which beats at the bottom of the cliffs of Whitby, on which rose -the monastery of Streoneshalh. Cædmon was at first a servant in this -monastery, but when the power to sing came to him it lifted not only -Cædmon himself to something better than he had been; it has also lifted -men and women ever since to better ways of thinking and feeling and to -greater happiness than they would ever have had without English poetry. -Bede, who wrote about Cædmon, said, "He did not learn the art of poetry -from men, nor of men, but from God." Cædmon sang many songs, chiefly -songs about stories in the Bible. Our first poetry was religious. "Dark -and true and tender is the north," and true and tender is all great -English poetry since that most precious of all the golden doors was -thrown open in the Great Palace of English Literature. - -Almost more interesting than the stories which Cædmon resung for the -world is the story of the way the gift of song came to Cædmon. - - * * * * * - -One day a little boy stood by a fishing-boat from which he had just -leaped. He dug his toe in the sand and looked up to the edge of the -rocky cliff above him. - -"What dost see, lad?" said his uncle, who was tossing his catch of fish -to the sand; "creatures of the mist in the clouds yonder?" - -"Nay, uncle," answered Finan, "there is no Grendel in the clouds. -Last night at the Hall a man sang to the harp that Grendel was a -moor-treader. Also he told of the deeds of the hero Beowulf, and he -said that Beowulf had killed Grendel." - -Finan's eyes were on the distant moor, which was the color of flame in -the evening light. Already twinkling above were little stars bright as -the sheen of elves. There, he knew, for everybody said so, lived elf -and giant and monster. There in the moor pools lived the water-elves. -Across its flame of heather strode mighty march-gangers like Grendel, -and in the dark places of the mountains lived a dragon, crouched above -his pile of gold and treasure. - -There stood the miraculous tree, of great size, on which were carved -the figures of beasts and birds and strange letters which told what -gods the heathen worshiped before the gentle religion of Christ was -brought to England. There lived the Wolf-Man, too, so friendless and -wild that he became the comrade of the wolves which howled in those -dark places. There lived a bear, old and terrible, and the wild boar -rooting up acorns with his huge curved tusks. - -Nearer the village was the wolf's-head tree--more terrible tree than -any in the mysteries of forest and fen-land. This was the gallows on -which the village folk hung those who did evil. Finan could see the -tree where it stood alone in the sunset light. And he heard the rough -cawing of ravens as they settled down into its dark branches to roost. - -"Caw, caw," croaked one raven, "ba-a-d man, ba-ad man." - -"Caw, caw," sang another raven, "ba-ad." - -Then they flapped their wings and settled to their sleep. - -"Uncle," Finan said, "I will go up the cliffside." - -The fisherman looked up. He heard the chanting from the church, and saw -an immense white cross upright on the cliff's edge. But he knew not of -what adventure little Finan was thinking. - -"Aye," he said, "go. Perhaps you will see the blessed Hild." - -So it came about that little Finan climbed the cliff on that evening -which was to prove a night wonderful in its miracle. There was born -that night that which, like the love of Christ, has made children's -lives better and happier. - -Finan reached the top of the cliff by those steps which were cut into -it, and then took the main road, paved and straight, which led toward -the Great Hall. He went along slowly under the apple-trees. He saw a -black-haired Welsh woman draw water. Little children not so big as -Finan were sitting on the steps by their mothers, who were spinning -in their doorways. He passed a dog gnawing a bone flung to it for its -supper. - -A cobbler, laying by his tools, looking up, saw Finan and greeted -him. A jeweler was fixing ornaments on a huge horn he had polished. -Carpenters were leaving a little cottage which they were building. -The road was full of men--swineherds and cowherds, plowboys and -wood-choppers from the forests beyond, gardeners and shepherds--all on -their way to the Great Hall. Some men there were in armor, too, their -long hair floating over their shoulders. - -Inside the windows, which in those days contained no window-glass, -torches and firelight would soon begin to flame, and mead would be -passed. Already a loud horn was calling all who would to come. - -Suddenly something sharp stabbed Finan, and he cried out. - -A man, a woman, and a little child came rushing from one of the -household yards, flapping their garments and screaming: "The bees! The -bees!" - -They had just found their precious hive empty. The bees had swarmed, -and unless they could find them there would be no more sweet-smelling -mead made from honey in that household that year. - -Another bee stung Finan. And there they were clinging to a low apple -bough just above his head. They hung in a great cluster, like a bunch -of dark grapes. - -"Dame," said a cowherd, who was in the road, to the people who were -crying out for their bees, "yonder lad knows where the bees are." - -Finan rubbed his head and looked up at the angry, humming swarm. - -"Aye," he said, and laughed. - -"Throw gravel on the swarming bees," called the cowherd, Cædmon. - -The man and woman and Finan took handfuls of gravel from the roadside -and flung them over the bees, and sang again and again, "Never to the -wood, fly ye wildly more!" - -Then they laughed, and the bees swarmed. - -"Now," said Cædmon, who was a wise cowherd, "hang veneria on the hive, -and if ye would have them safe lay on the hive a plant of madder. Then -can naught lure them away." - -When they reached the Hall folk were already eating inside. Little -Finan saw Cædmon go in quietly, for Cædmon was attached to the Abbess -Hild's monastery and had a right to go in and eat. Inside they were -singing for the sake of mirth, and the torches and firelight were -flaming. - -Through the open window--for windows were always open then, and the -word window meant literally "wind-eye"--Finan saw the harp being passed -from one to another. - -They sang many songs as the harp passed from hand to hand, songs of war -and songs of home. - -But when the harp was passed to Cædmon, who had charmed the bees, he -shook his head sorrowfully, saying that he could not sing, and got up -sad and ashamed and went out. - -Little Finan wanted to shout through the window to him to sing about -the bees. He did not dare, for he was afraid of being discovered. -Instead he followed behind Cædmon. He wished to ask him why he could -not sing. This he did not dare to do, either, but he went on to the -fold where the cowherd had gone to care for the cattle. And there -on the edge of the fold the little boy, unseen by the cowherd, fell -asleep. Shortly afterward Cædmon, too, fell asleep. - -It must have been near the middle of the night when the stars one and -all were shining and dancing with the sheen of millions and millions of -elves, and the sea down below the cliff was singing a mighty lullabye, -that little Finan started wide awake, hearing a voice speak. - -"Cædmon," spoke a man who stood beside the sleeping cowherd, "sing me -something." - -Cædmon drowsily answered: "I cannot sing anything. Therefore went I -away from the mirth and came here, for I know not how to sing." - -Again the mysterious stranger spoke. "Yet you could sing." - -And Finan heard the sleep-bound voice of Cædmon ask, "What shall I -sing?" - -"Sing to me," said the stranger, "the beginning of all things." - -And at once Cædmon began to sing in a strong voice, and very -beautifully, the praise of God who made this world. And his song had -all the beat of sea waves in it--sometimes little waves that lapped -gently on the shore and bore in beautiful shells and jeweled seaweed. -But more often its rhythm was as mighty as ocean waves that tossed big -ships. - -Then the wandering stranger, hearing the beauty of the song, vanished. -Cædmon awoke from his sleep, and he remembered all that he had sung and -the vision that had come to him. And he was glad. He arose and went to -the Abbess Hild to tell her what had happened to him, the least of her -servants. - -In the presence of many wise men did Hild bid Cædmon tell his dream and -sing his verses. And he did as he was told, and it was plain to all -that an angel had visited Cædmon. The Abbess Hild took him into the -monastery, and she ordered that everything be done for him. And Cædmon -became the first and one of the greatest of English poets. And even as -Christ was born in a manger in Bethlehem, English poetry was born in a -cattle-fold in a town which was called Streoneshalh, which means "Bay -of the Beacon." And to mankind since Cædmon, the first English poet, -English song has been a beacon to all the world. - - * * * * * - -If you open a book written in the English of to-day, it is easy to read -it--just as easy as to understand the speech we use among one another. -But the English of fifteen or sixteen hundred years ago would be -difficult to read. There is an illustration of this English in a line -from "Deor's Lament": - - - Thas ofer eode, thisses swa maeg. - - -It is easy to pick this out word for word, and see that it means, "That -was overcome (or overpassed), so may this be." The English in that -Great Palace, some of whose doors are more than twelve hundred years -old, is the same English, just as the oak-tree two hundred years old is -the same oak-tree, though different, that it was when planted. But you -would find it difficult to read the English in which Cædmon wrote his -great poems. - -Old English poetry, too, seems as different from the poetry of to-day -as the language we speak seems different from the language they used to -speak. For one thing, old English poetry did not have rhymes. - - - Little lamb, who made thee? - Dost thou know who made thee, - Gave thee life and bade thee feed - By the stream and o'er the mead; - Gave thee clothing of delight, - Softest clothing, woolly, bright; - Gave thee such a tender voice, - Making all the vales rejoice? - Little lamb, who made thee? - Dost thou know who made thee? - - -This poem was written somewhat over a hundred years ago by William -Blake, but it is modern and part of that brightest and most beautiful -room of all English poetry--Nineteenth Century Poetry. What is a rhyme? -You can tell if you will study this stanza from "The Lamb." You will -see that "thee" of the first line rhymes with "thee" of the second, -that "feed" and "mead" rhyme, and that "delight" and "bright" rhyme -just as "voice" and "rejoice." Old English poetry was different, too, -in that it did not count the syllables in a line of poetry. If you drum -on the table and count the syllables of the first and second lines, -you will see that each has six, and the following six lines have seven -syllables each, and the last two six each. Then if you drum a little -more you will see that each of the first two lines has three accents or -stresses, and the following six four accents or stresses each. - -Then, you ask, what was this old English poetry like? Even if the -syllables were not counted and there was no rhyme, it had accents just -as our modern poetry has. Every line was divided into half verses by a -pause, as, for example: - - - Warriors of winters young with words spake. - - -There are two accented syllables in the first half of this line, and -one in the second. And now, instead of rhyme, what do you think the old -English poetry had? Alliteration. That is a big word, but it is not -nearly so difficult as it seems, for it means simply the repetition of -the same letter at the beginning of two or more words. Here it is, the -letter "w" that is repeated. It was poetry with alliteration and stress -which little Finan heard on that night so long ago when the angel came -to Cædmon and commanded him to sing. - - - - - V - - THE SHEPHERD OF LAUDERDALE - - -After Cædmon's day there were more and more religious poets. Very often -the men who wrote the poetry and prose during the time of Cædmon and -of Cuthbert lived in monasteries, where the life was a religious life. -In the Great Palace of English Literature there is a pretty story told -about Ealdhelm, who was a young man when Cædmon died. This young man -later became the Abbot of Malmesbury. He was not only a religious poet, -but he also made songs and could sing them to music. He traveled from -town to town, and, finding that the men at the fairs did not come to -church as they should, he would stand on the bridge and sing songs to -them in the English tongue, persuading them thus to come to hear the -word of God. Living at this same time--that is, during the latter half -of the seventh century--was St. Cuthbert, not so great a scholar as -Ealdhelm, but as great a wanderer. - - * * * * * - -There is a little valley between England and Scotland called -Lauderdale--a little valley watered by a river which flows into the -Tweed. There Cuthbert did not keep the flocks of his father as did -David, yet, like David, he was a warrior lad. Day and night Cuthbert -lived in the open, shepherding the sheep of many masters. - -There was not among the lads of that time a boy more active, more -daring than Cuthbert. He could walk on his hands, turn somersaults, -fight boldly, and become a victor in almost every race. There was no -other boy so active but that Cuthbert was better at games and sports. -And when all the others were tired he would ask whether there was not -some one who could go on playing. Then suddenly a swelling came on -his knee and the poor little boy could play no longer, and had to be -carried in and out, up and down, by attendants. This continued until -one day a horseman, clothed in white garments and riding a horse of -incomparable beauty, appeared before the sick boy and cured his knee. -Little Cuthbert was now able to walk about once more, but never again -did he play the games he used to play. - -Not far from where Cuthbert lived was the monastery of Tiningham, by -the mouth of the river Tyne. Some of the monks were bringing down on -rafts wood which they had spent a long time felling and sawing up. They -were almost opposite the monastery and were just about to draw the wood -to the shore, when a great wind came up from the west and drove the -rafts out toward the sea. There were five of them, and so quickly did -they drift away that it was not more than a few minutes before they -began to look in the distance as small as five little birds. Those -upon the rafts were in much danger of losing their lives. Those in the -monastery came out and prayed upon the shore for them. But the five -rafts that now looked like the tiniest of birds went on drifting out to -sea. And the populace, which had been heathens very lately, began to -jest at the monks because their prayers were in vain. - -Then said Cuthbert: "Friends, you do wrong to speak evil of those you -see hurried away to death. Would it not be better to pray for their -safety?" - -"No!" shouted the people, angrily. "They took away our old worship, and -you can see that nothing comes of the new." - -At this the young Cuthbert began to pray, bowing his head to the -ground. And the winds were turned around and brought the rafts in -safety to the shore of the monastery. - -Like David, this boy Cuthbert was very near to God, and one night, -while keeping the sheep of his masters, he saw angels descending from -heaven. Cuthbert was on a remote mountain with other shepherds, and -keeping not only his sheep, but also the vigil of prayer, when a light -streamed down from heaven and broke the thick darkness. Then Cuthbert -made up his mind to serve God by entering a monastery. - -One day he was on a journey on horseback when he was not quite fifteen -years old. He turned aside to the farmstead which he saw at some -distance, and entered the house of a very good woman. He wanted to rest -himself. But even more he wanted to get food for his horse. The woman -urged him to let her prepare dinner for him. But Cuthbert would not -eat, for it was a fast-day. - -"Consider," said the woman, "that on your journey you will find no -village nor habitation of man; for indeed a long journey is before you, -nor can you possibly accomplish it before sunset. Wherefore, I beg of -you to take some food before setting out, lest you be obliged to fast -all day, or perhaps even until to-morrow." - -But Cuthbert would not break his fast. Night came on and he saw that he -could not finish his journey, and there was no house anywhere in which -to take shelter. As he went on, however, he noticed some shepherds' -huts which had been roughly thrown together in the summer. He entered -one of these to pass the night there, tied his horse to the wall, and -set before the horse a bundle of hay to eat. Suddenly Cuthbert noticed -that his horse was raising his head and pulling at the thatching of -the hut. And as the horse drew the thatch down there fell out also a -folded napkin. In the napkin was wrapped the half of a loaf of bread, -yet warm, and a piece of meat--enough for Cuthbert's supper. - -At last, followed by his squire, and with his lance in hand, the -youthful shepherd-warrior, then but fifteen years old, appeared before -the gates of the monastery of Melrose. For Cuthbert had decided to -serve God in a religious life rather than upon the battle-field. - -There was not a village so far away, or a mountain so steep, or a -cottage so poverty-stricken, but that the boy Cuthbert, strong and -energetic, visited it. Most often he traveled on horseback; but there -were places so rough and wild they were not to be reached on horseback. -These places along the coast he visited in a boat. Cuthbert thought -nothing of hunger and thirst and cold. From the Solway to the Forth -he covered Scotland with his pilgrimages. This, of course, was in the -seventh century--a long time ago--yet stories are still told there of -the wonderful work of Cuthbert. - -While he was young in the life of the monastery it was Cuthbert's -good fortune to entertain an angel unawares, as, perhaps, we all do -sometimes. At the monastery Cuthbert, so pleasant and winning were -his manners, was appointed guest-master. Going out one morning from -the inner buildings of the monastery to the guest-chamber, he found -a young man seated there. He welcomed him with the usual forms of -kindness, gave him water to wash his hands, himself bathed his feet and -wiped them with a towel and warmed them. He begged the young man not -to go forward on his journey until the third hour, when he might have -breakfast. He thought the stranger must have been wearied by the night -journey and the snow. But the stranger was very unwilling to stay until -Cuthbert urged him in the Divine Name. Immediately after the prayers -of tierce--or the third hour--were said, Cuthbert laid the table and -offered the stranger food. - -"Refresh thyself, master, until I return with some new bread, for I -expect it is ready baked by this time." - -But when he returned the guest whom he had left at the table had gone. -Although a recent snowfall had covered the ground, and Cuthbert looked -for his footprints, none were to be found. On entering the room again, -there came to him a very sweet odor, and he saw lying beside him three -loaves of bread, warm and of unwonted whiteness and beauty. - -"Lo," said Cuthbert, "this was an angel of God who came to feed and not -to be fed. These are such loaves as the earth cannot produce, for they -surpass lilies in whiteness, roses in smell, and honey in flavor." - -By all human beings and creatures was Cuthbert beloved. He usually -spent the greater part of the night in prayer. One night one of the -brothers of the monastery followed him to find out where he went when -he left the monastery. St. Cuthbert went out to the shore and entered -the cold water of the sea till it was up to his arms and neck. And -there in praises, with the sound of the waves in his ears, he spent the -night. When dawn was drawing near he came out of the water and finished -his prayer upon the shore. While he was doing this two seals came from -out of the depths of the sea, warmed his feet with their breath and -dried them with their hair. And when Cuthbert's feet were warm and dry -he stood up and blessed the seals and sent them back into the sea, -wherein these humble creatures swam about praising God. - - - - - VI - - THE BOY WHO WON A PRIZE - - -You know what sort of stories Bede was fond of telling--of course in -Latin. If you should be asked with whom English prose began, I think it -would be safe to say, "With Bede, who wrote the life of St. Cuthbert -and the Ecclesiastical History." But that is not why you should say -that Bede began English prose, but because at his death he was busy -finishing a book written in English and called _Translation of the -Gospel of St. John_. - -When his last day came the good old man called all his scholars about -him. - -"There is still a chapter wanting," said the youth who always took down -all of Bede's dictation, "and it is hard for thee to question thyself -longer." - -"It is easily done," answered Bede; "take thy pen and write quickly." - -And all day long they wrote. - -When twilight came the boy cried out, "There is still one sentence -unwritten, dear master." - -"Write it quickly," answered the master. - -"It is finished now," said the boy. - -"Thou sayest truth," came the answer, "all is finished now." - -Singing the praise of God, his scholars and the boy scribe about him, -he died. Alas that this English book that he bravely finished has been -lost! - -Bede was born about 673 and lived most of his life in the monastery -at Jarrow in Northumbria in the north of England. With Bede's death -the home of English prose literature was changed from the north to the -south, from Northumbria to Wessex, where there lived a noble boy called -Alfred. Asser, the man who was his secretary after the boy grew up, has -written a life of Alfred. - - * * * * * - -From the very first this little boy was full of promise and very -attractive. This fact is rather hard on some of us, is it not, who find -it difficult to be good and to win the confidence of grown-up people. -But the confidence of others is precisely what the boy Alfred did win, -and it was not because he was a molly-coddle, for no young prince ever -swung a battle-ax more lustily than did Alfred. - -When he was a little bit of a chap only five years old, he was taken to -Rome to see the Pope. Alfred was born in 849 at the town of Wantage, so -you know what year it was when he went to Rome. The Pope took a great -fancy to him and hallowed him as his "bishop's son." Just how old this -charming boy was when he began to read we do not know. At that time, -of course, all boys read Latin, for there were no English books to -read. But there is an old English couplet--a couplet is two lines of -verse with a rhyme at the end of each line--which may tell the story of -Alfred's reading: - - - At writing he was good enough, and yet as he telleth me, - He was more than ten years old ere he knew his A B C. - - -Alfred may have been younger or older than this. We don't know, and the -probability is that we never shall know. This little boy was much loved -by his father, King Ethelwulf, and his mother, Queen Osburh. He had -many brothers and sisters, and was himself the fifth child. But he was -a finer-looking boy than the others, and more graceful in his way of -speaking and in his manners. - -From the time that he was a tiny child he loved to know things. And yet -his parents and nurses allowed him to remain untaught in reading and -writing until he was quite a big boy. But at night, when the gleemen -sang songs to the harp in the royal villa, Alfred listened attentively. -He had memorized very early some splendid old English songs, such as -"Beowulf." He knew all about Grendel, and all about the death of the -warrior Beowulf after his battle with the dragon. And he had listened -to gentler songs, like the one of the cowherd, Cædmon. He listened -to the singing of poems which were full of the sea and full of war. -Saints, warriors, and pirates were the chief heroes. A Roman poet, -thinking of the warriors and pirates, called the English people "sea -wolves." All their poetry was full of the sea, and it is still true -that the English love the sea. - - * * * * * - -But you must not think of these people, in the midst of whom Alfred -was born, as just warriors. They loved their homes, and their poetry -is full of love for their families and for the dear old home-place, -wherever it happened to be. Besides home-loving poetry, the gleemen -sang many religious poems to which the little Alfred listened. Among -them was the story of Cædmon, as I have said. We hear, too, of warrior -saints, good men who did not go out to slay a fire-spewing dragon lying -on a heap of gold, as did Beowulf, but who taught them how to fight the -dragon of evil which lurks somewhere near or within us all the time. - -It is this sort of golden and every-day victory that not only Cædmon, -the cowherd, sings, but also Cynewulf, who lived during the last half -of the eighth century. Cynewulf was a minstrel at the court of one -of the Northumbrian kings--just such a minstrel or gleeman as Alfred -sometimes listened to on many a night when he was committing to memory -some stirring or beautiful Anglo-Saxon poem. This poet-singer loved -the sea with all his heart, and his poetry is full of this love. And -in our own day, eleven centuries later, Tennyson wrote poems in their -spirit not unlike Old English poems. There is one called "The Sailor -Boy" which resembles an Anglo-Saxon poem called "The Seafarer." It is a -spirited little poem and begins: - - - He rose at dawn and, fired with hope, - Shot o'er the sultry harbour-bar, - And reached the ship and caught the rope, - And whistled to the morning star. - - God help me! save I take my part - Of danger on the roaring sea, - A devil rises in my heart, - Far worse than any death to me. - - -That devil is, of course, the devil of idleness, of uselessness. -These stanzas are worth memorizing. You can see the spirit of a poet -sometimes has a very long life. Here is one of the Old English riddles: - - - On the sand I stayed, by the sea-wall near, - All beside the surge-inflowing! Firm I sojourned there, - Where I first was fastened. Only few of men - Watched among the waste where I wonned on the earth. - But the brown-backed billow, at each break of day, - With its water-arms enwrapt me! Little weened I then, - That I e'er should speak, in the after-days, - Mouthless o'er the mead-bench.... - - -What do you think that meant? A reed flute--a little flute on which one -played a song. - -When Christianity came to England, as it did in 597 with St. Augustine, -almost three hundred years before little Alfred was born, it made men -care less for warfare and more for Christ. It is difficult to do what -Christ told us to do--love one another, and at the same time fight one -another. And that we should love one another was the great new message -of Christianity. Christ was in men's minds, however, in those olden -days, not only our gentle Saviour, but also a hero who went forth to -war. - - * * * * * - -Alfred knew all about warfare, but it was not for warfare that this -gentle boy and brave man cared most. One day his noble mother, Osburh, -showed him and his brothers a book of poetry written in English. - -"Whichever of you," she said, "shall the soonest learn this volume -shall have it for his own." - -This book was a very beautiful book with an illuminated letter at the -beginning of the volume. An illuminated letter is usually bright with -gold as well as with other colors. Of course the boy Alfred wanted this -wonderful book. - -He said before all his brothers, who were older than he, "Will you -really give that book to one of us, that is to say to him who can first -understand and repeat it to you?" - -"Yes," answered his mother, smiling, and assuring him that it was so. - -Alfred thereupon took the book from her hand and went to his master to -read it. And it was not so very long before he had it all by heart. -Then one day he brought the book to his mother and recited it. And so -well did he do that he received the gift as his mother had promised him -he should. - -We have taken a look through the golden door over which is written _Old -English Poetry_. We know something of what the boy Alfred learned from -the book his mother gave him. - -By that time he had grown to be a large boy. When he was still a little -boy he had been taken from his nurses and taught the use of arms and -how to ride. All his training was teaching him how to be a soldier. Yet -there was something for which Alfred cared even more. All about them in -those days were the Danes, the fiercest of fighting-men. Government, -the gentle religion of Christ, peace, had been almost dislodged by -these fierce, heathen Danes. Yet in the midst of the war-filled years -of his boyhood and young manhood Alfred was dreaming of what English -books, of what education in their own tongue, might do for his people. - -And even in war times they were very busy just getting things together -in order to live. They had to have food, they had to be warm, they had -to have houses and clothes. In the woods they had pigs--wild-looking -swine with tusks. In the fields they had cattle and sheep and chickens. -From the sea they took fish. They made butter and cheese, ale and mead, -candles, leather from skins, and they wove cloth and silk. They kept -bees, too, as you know from what happened to little Finan in the story -of Cædmon. Besides all these things they had their carpenter's work, -their blacksmith's, their baker's, hunting, woodcutting, the making of -weapons, and a hundred and one other employments. - -Still, despite all the warfare and the work, Alfred, when he became -king in 871, had time to do a great deal for the education of the boys -and girls of those stirring days. The young king wrote in English and -translated from Latin into English so that the people might have books -in their own tongue. And since Bede's translation of the Gospel of -St. John was lost, Alfred must be called the true "father of English -prose." Just as Whitby and the stall in which Cædmon saw the vision and -learned how to sing was the cradle of English poetry, so was Winchester -the cradle of English prose. To accomplish this work the good king -brought scholars from all over the world. Asser, his secretary and -biographer, has compared Alfred to a most productive bee which flew -here and there asking questions as he went. He made it possible for -every free-born youth to learn to read and write English perfectly. -Indeed, this wonderful king made himself into a schoolmaster and took -on the direction of a school in his own court. He translated from -well-known books into English, among others Bede's _History_ and Pope -Gregory's _Pastoral Care_. Although he freed his people from the fierce -Danes, through his love for a book he did more for his own times and -for all times--more, almost, than any other English boy has ever grown -up to do. - - - - - VII - - A FISHERMAN'S BOY - - -When we say that we are English-speaking, it seems as if it were not -necessary to say more than that. But the more we wander about in the -Great Palace of English Literature opening golden doors, the more do we -realize that we cannot say that this palace was built by English hands -alone. No, the men who built it were not only English, they were, as -you know already, Welsh, Irish, Scotch. Indeed, the very word "English" -was brought to England by an invader, just as the word "America" was -brought to the North American continent by a discoverer. Not only was -this Palace of English Literature built by those who were Welsh, Irish, -and Scotch, as well as English, but also by Danes and Normans. - -The English came to Britain in 449. About three hundred and fifty years -later (790) the Danes began to ravage Northumbria, which you have come -to know through the story of Cædmon the cowherd. But the Danes were of -English stock, so to speak, and they neither changed the language nor -altered things in the life of boys and girls and men and women. After -all it was much the same life after they came as it was before. They -brought with them some stories--just as the English "Beowulf." Among -the Danish-English stories were "Havelok the Dane" and "King Horn," -both written down about 1280, but told and sung much before that time. - -In her early days before she became a great world power, England had -many conquerors. Not only the English and the Danes, but also the -Normans were her conquerors in 1066 under William the Conqueror. -English story-telling, as, for example, Malory's "Morte d'Arthur," -could never have been the same without the Norman or French influence. -If we pick up a handful of so-called English words, we shall see that -some of these words are English, others are French, and still others -Latin in their origin. But the Norman spoke French only for a while in -England. He soon left the speaking and writing of French for that of -English. However, there are many beautiful words, many strong words, -many words of customs and manners which we should not find in the Great -Palace of English Literature but for the conquerors who came to England. - -There are several manuscripts in which the story of Havelok is found. -But the one which is written in an English dialect shows best how old -the story is. - - * * * * * - -There was a King whose name was Aethelwold, whose only heir was a tiny -little girl. And the little girl's name was Goldborough. Alas, the King -found he must die and leave his little girl fatherless! So he called to -him the wisest and mightiest of his earls. The name of this Earl was -Godrich. And the King made the Earl promise that he would guard his -little girl until she was twenty years old, and that then he would give -her in marriage to the fairest and strongest man alive. - -But when the Earl Godrich saw how lovely little Goldborough was going -to be, and knew that he would have to give up the kingdom to her before -long, he was angry, and took her from Winchester to Dover on the -English seacoast and shut little Goldborough up in a castle so that she -could not get out. - -In Denmark, just about this time, there lived a King whose name was -Birkabeyn who had one boy and two sweet little girls. He, too, realized -that he had to die. So he called to him his wisest Earl, a man by the -name of Godard, and charged him to care for his children until Havelok, -the boy, was old enough to rule the land. But this wicked Earl shut -little Swanborow and Helfled up in a castle and had them killed. - -And Godard was just about to kill Havelok, too, when he bethought him -he would have somebody else do this terrible deed. The wicked Earl sent -for a fisherman who would, he knew, do his will. - -"Grim," said the wicked Earl, "to-morrow I will make thee rich if thou -wilt take this child and throw him into the sea to-night." - -Grim took the boy Havelok and bound him and gagged him and took him -home in a black bag. When Grim carried the sack into his cottage, Dame -Leve, his wife, was so frightened that she dropped the sack her husband -had handed to her, and cracked poor little Havelok's head against a -stone. - -They let the boy lie this way until midnight, when it would be dark -enough for Grim to drown Havelok in the sea. Leve was just bringing -Grim some clothes that he might put on to go out and drown the King's -son, when they saw a light shining about the child. - -"What is this light?" cried Dame Leve. "Rise up, Grim." - -In haste the fisherman rose and they went over to the child, about -whose head shone a clear light, from whose mouth came rays of light -like sunbeams. It was as if many candles were burning in that tiny -fisherman's hut. They unbound the boy and they found on his right -shoulder a king's mark, bright and fair like the lights. - -They were overcome by what Godard had done and had almost led them to -do. They fell upon their knees before the little boy and promised to -feed and clothe him. And so they did, and they were very good to him -and kept him from all harm. But Grim and his wife became frightened, -for fear that Godard would discover that they had not drowned the -child and would hang them. Thereupon Grim sold all that he had, sheep, -cow, horse, pigs, goat, geese, hens--everything, in short, that was -his. Taking his money, he put his wife, his three little sons, and two -pretty little girls and Havelok into his fishing-boat and they set sail -for England. - - -[Illustration: HENRY III. SAILING HOME FROM GASCONY, -1243 Drawn by Matthew Paris _MS. Roy. 14 C. vii_] - - -The north wind blew and drove them down upon the coast of England near -the river Humber, and there Grim landed, and the place is called -Grimsby to this day. Then Grim set himself to his old occupation of -fishing, and he caught sturgeon, whale, turbot, salmon, seal, porpoise, -mackerel, flounder, plaice, and thornback. And he and his sons carried -the fish about in baskets and sold them. - -Yet while Grim fed his family well, Havelok lay at home and did naught. -And when Havelok stopped to think about that, he was ashamed, for he -was a fine, strong boy. - -"Work is no shame," said the King's son to himself. - -And the next day he carried to market as much fish as four men could. -And every bit of fish did he sell and brought back the money, keeping -not a farthing for himself. Alas! there came a famine about this time, -and Grim had great fear on Havelok's account lest the boy starve. - -"Havelok," said Grim, "our meat is long since gone. For myself it does -not matter, but I fear for thee. Thou knowest how to get to Lincoln, -and there they will give thee a chance to earn thy food. Since thou art -naked, I will make thee a coat from my sail." - -This he did, and with the coat on and barefoot the King's son found his -way to Lincoln. For two days the lad had no food. On the third day he -heard some one crying, "Bearing-men, bearing-men, come here!" Havelok -leaped forward to the Earl's cook and bore the food to the castle. -Another time he lifted a whole cart-load of fish and bore it to the -castle. - -The cook looked him over and said: "Wilt thou work for me? I will feed -thee gladly." - -"Feed me," answered Havelok, "and I will make thy fire burn and wash -thy dishes." - -And because Havelok was a strong lad and a good boy, as all kings' sons -are not, he worked hard from that day forth. He bore all the food in -and carried all the wood and the water, and worked as hard as if he -were a beast. And he was a merry lad, too, for he knew how to hide his -griefs. And the old story says that all who saw him loved him, for he -was meek and strong and fair. But still he had nothing but the wretched -coat to wear. So the cook took pity on him and bought him span-new -clothes and gave him stockings and shoes. And when he had put them on -he looked the King's son he was. At the Lincoln games he was "like a -mast," taller and straighter than any youth there. In wrestling he -overcame every one. Yet he was known for his gentleness. Never before -had Havelok seen stone-putting, but when his master told him to try, -Havelok threw the stone twelve feet beyond what any one else could do. - -The story of the stone-putting was being told in castle and hall when -Earl Godrich heard it, and said to himself that here was the tallest, -strongest, and fairest man alive, and he would fulfil his promise and -get rid of Goldborough, the King's daughter, by giving her to Havelok, -whom he thought to be just a cook's boy. Now Havelok did not wish to -marry any more than did Goldborough, but they were forced to. And when -they were married Havelok knew not whither they could go, for he saw -that Godrich hated them and that their lives were not safe. - -Therefore they went on foot to Grimsby, and royal was their welcome. -Grim, the fisherman, had died. - -But his five children fell on their knees and said: "Welcome, dear -lord. Stay here and all is thine." - -And that night as they lay on their bed in the fisherman's hut, -Goldborough discovered, because of the bright light which came from the -mouth of Havelok, that he was a King's son. And it was not long after -this they all set sail for Denmark, so that Havelok, with the help of -Grim's sons and many others, might win back the kingdom of Denmark. - -It was in the house of Bernard Brown, the magistrate of the Danish -town, that sixty strong thieves, clad in wide sleeves and closed capes, -attacked him. Bernard Brown seized an ax and leaped to the door to -defend his home. - -One of the thieves shouted at him, "We will go in at this door despite -thee." - -And he broke the door asunder with a boulder. Whereupon Havelok took -the great bar from across the door. And with the bar he slew several, -yet the thieves had wounded him in many places, when Grim's sons came -upon the scene to defend their lord and saw the thieves treating -Havelok as a smith does his anvil. Like madmen the three sons of Grim -leaped into the fight, and they fought until not one of the thieves was -left alive. - -When Earl Ubbe heard of this he rode down to Bernard Brown's. Then he -heard the story of Havelok's bravery and of the terrible wounds he had -received, so that Bernard Brown feared he might die because of them. - -"Fetch Havelok quickly," commanded Ubbe. "If he can be healed, I myself -will dub him knight." - -When a leech saw the wounds of Havelok he told Ubbe that they could be -cured. - -"Come forth now," said Ubbe to Havelok, "thou and Goldborough and thy -three servants." - -And with rejoicing did Ubbe bring them to his city. And about the -middle of the night Ubbe saw a great light in the tower where Havelok -was sleeping. He peered through a crack and he saw that the "sunny -gleam" came from Havelok's mouth. It was as if a hundred and seven -candles were burning, and on Havelok's shoulder was a clear, shining -cross. - -"He is Birkabeyn's heir," said Ubbe, "for never in Denmark was brother -so like to brother as this fair man is like the dead King." - -And Earl Ubbe and his men fell at Havelok's feet and awoke him. And -very happy was Havelok, and thankful to God. And then came barons and -warriors and thanes and knights and common men, and all swore fealty to -Havelok. With a bright sword Ubbe dubbed Havelok knight and made him -King. And the three sons of Grim were also made knights. Thereat were -all men happy, and they wrestled and played, played the harp and the -pipe, read romances from a book, and sang old tales. There was every -sort of sport and plenty of food. - -Finally they all, a thousand knights and five thousand men, set forth -that Havelok might take vengeance on the wicked Earl Godard. There was -a hard fight, but at last they caught and bound Earl Godard. And he -was hung on the gallows and died there. Such was the end of one who -betrayed his trust. - -The wicked Earl Godrich in England, who had robbed Goldborough of her -kingdom, heard that Havelok was become King of Denmark and also that -he was come to Grimsby. So he gathered all his army together and there -was a great battle. And the battle was going against Havelok, when the -wicked hand of Godrich was struck off. After that Havelok and his men -were victorious. Then did they condemn the Earl Godrich to death. And -he was bound to an ass and led through London and burned at the stake. -Such was the end of one who betrayed his trust. - -And after that Havelok and Goldborough reigned in England for sixty -years. So great was the love of the King and Queen for each other that -all marveled at it. Neither was happy away from the other. And never -were they angry, for their love for each other was always new. - - - - - VIII - - THE WEREWOLF - - -In the Great Palace of English Literature over one of the golden doors -hangs a horn of ivory, and a sword of which the name is Durendal. -Above that door is written _Chanson de Roland_, which means the Song -of Roland. Often in the stillness of the early morning or at dusk the -Great Palace rings faintly with the music from that ivory horn which -belonged to Roland, and which he sounded for the last time in the Pass -of Roncevaux. Or there is heard the clinking of Durendal against the -stone of the palace walls--no doubt the wind stirring it where it hangs -beside the door it guards. - -"Chanson de Roland!" You see the story is French. The Normans brought -it with them when they came to conquer Britain in 1066 under William of -Normandy. Before the soldiers of William, the minstrel, Taillefer, rode -singing of "Charlemagne, and of Roland, and of Oliver, and the vassals -who fell at Roncevaux." - -"Roland, comrade," said Oliver, "blow thy horn of ivory, and Charles -shall hear it and bring hither again his army, and ... succor us." - -"Nay, first will I lay on with Durendal, the good sword girded at my -side." - -"Roland, comrade," urged Oliver, "blow thy horn of ivory, that Charles -may hear it." - -"God forbid that they should say I sounded my horn for dread of the -heathen." - -"Prithee look!" begged Oliver. "They are close upon us. Thou wouldst -not deign to sound thy horn of ivory. Were the King here we should -suffer no hurt." - -Oliver was wise and Roland was brave, and the song that the minstrel -Taillefer chanted before the conquering hosts of William of Normandy -was a wonderful, stirring song. No doubt there flows in English veins -to-day much of the courage of Roland and the wisdom of Oliver. Although -the English continued English, yet for a long time following the -conquest of England by the Normans songs were sung in French rather -than in English. And ready and witty was all that was written down in -French, for the literature of the Normans was as brightly colored as -a jewel and not grand and melancholy as was that of the Anglo-Saxons. -"Beowulf" was the battle song of the Anglo-Saxons, the "Song of Roland" -that of the Normans. Melancholy was the poem of "Beowulf." White -and clear, stirring and flashing in the sunshine was the "Chanson -de Roland," even as Roland's beloved sword Durendal, which is heard -clinking against the stone of the Great Palace of English Literature. - -But "Roland" represented only a fraction of the story-telling in -the French poetry of that time. The most exquisite and delightful -story-teller of that twelfth century collected and wrote here charming -stories on English soil and dedicated them to Henry II., who died in -1189. Her name was Marie de France, and of her lays a rival poet wrote: - - - All love them much and hold them dear, - Baron, count and chevalier, - Applaud their form and take delight - To hear them told by day and night. - In chief, these tales the ladies please; - They listen glad their hearts to ease. - - -Marie de France's lays are based on British tradition. There are many -of these delightful stories. Among the most interesting of them is "The -Werewolf." - - * * * * * - -Once upon a time in the days of King Arthur--for later there are some -lines in Malory's "Morte d'Arthur" which tells us that this story -must have been true--there lived a man who for part of the week was a -wolf--that is, he had the form and the appetite of a wolf, and was -called a werewolf. But nobody knew that he was a werewolf for three -days in the week. Not even his wife, whom he loved well and devotedly, -knew what happened to her husband while he was away from her these -three days every week. - -It vexed the wife very much that she did not know, but she was afraid -to question her husband, lest he be angry. At last one day she did -question him. - -"Ask me no more," replied the husband, "for if I answered you you would -cease to love me." - -Nevertheless she gave him no peace until he had told her that three -days in the week, because of a spell which was over him, he was forced -to be a werewolf, and that when he felt the change coming over him he -hid himself in the very thickest part of the forest. - -Then the wife demanded to know what became of his clothes, and he -answered that he laid them aside. The wife asked where he put them. He -begged her not to ask him, for only the garments made it possible for -him to return to human shape again. But the wife cried and begged until -the knight, her husband, had told her all. - -"Wife," he said, "inside the forest on a crossroad is a chapel. Near -the chapel under a shrub is a stone. Beneath the stone is a hole, -and in that hole do I hide my clothes until the enchantment makes it -possible for me to take my human shape again." - -Now the wife was not a good wife. Instead of trying to help her husband -to get free from the wolf shape he had to assume three days in every -week, thereafter she loathed him and was afraid of him. And what is -worse still, she betrayed him to another knight. She took this other -knight into her confidence and told him where her husband hid his -clothes when the spell came upon him and he took the form of a wolf. -Thereupon the knight to whom she had told this dreadful secret stole -the clothes, and they hid them where the poor wolf could never find -them again. After that these two wicked people were married, while the -poor wolf wandered about in the forest, grieving, for he had loved his -wife well and truly. - -Some time after this the King was hunting one day in the forest, and -his hounds gave chase to a wolf. At last, when the wretched beast was -in danger of being overtaken by the hounds and torn into a thousand -pieces, he fled to the King, seized him by the stirrup, and licked his -foot submissively. - -The King was astonished. He called his companions, and they drove off -the dogs, for the King would not have the wolf harmed. But when they -started to leave the forest the wolf followed the King and would not be -driven away. The King was much pleased, for he had taken a great liking -to the wolf. He therefore made a pet of the lonely beast, and at night -he slept in the King's own chamber. All the courtiers came to love the -wolf, too, for he was a gentle wolf and did no one any harm. - -A long time had passed when one day the King had occasion to hold a -court. His barons came from far and near, and among them the knight -who had betrayed the werewolf. No sooner did the wolf see him than he -sprang at him to kill him. And had the King not called the wolf off he -would have torn the false knight to pieces. Every one was astonished -that this gentle beast should show such rage. But after the court was -over and as time went on they forgot the beast's savage act. - -At length the King decided to make a tour throughout his kingdom. And -he took the wolf with him, for that was his custom. Now the werewolf's -false wife heard that the King was to spend some time in the part of -the country where she lived. So she begged for an audience. But no -sooner did she enter the presence-chamber than the wolf sprang at her -and bit off her nose. - -The courtiers were going to slay the beast, but a wise man stayed their -weapons. - -"Sire," said the councilor, "we have all caressed this wolf and he has -never done us any harm. This lady was the wife of a man you held dear, -but of whose fate we none of us know anything. Take my counsel and make -this lady answer your questions, so shall we come to know why the wolf -sprang at her." - -This was done. The false knight who had married her was brought also, -and they told all the wickedness they had done to the poor wolf. Then -the King caused the wolf's stolen clothes to be fetched. But the wolf -acted as if he did not see the clothes. - -"Sire," said the councilor, "if this beast is a werewolf he will not -change back into his human shape until he is alone." - -They left him alone in the King's chamber, and put the clothes beside -him. Then they waited for a long time. Lo, when they entered the -chamber again, there lay the long-lost knight in a deep sleep on the -King's bed! Quickly did the King run to him and embrace him, and -after that he restored to him all his lost lands, and he banished -the false wife and her second husband from the country. And they who -were banished lived in a strange land, and all the girls among their -children and grandchildren were without noses. - - * * * * * - -So close we this little golden door--not the less precious because -little--over which is written in letters all boys and girls should -love: _Marie de France_, who wrote "The Werewolf." - - - - - IX - - AT GEOFFREY'S WINDOW - - -Among all the golden doors in the Great Palace of English Literature -about which we are coming to know something, and through some of which -we have already passed, there was one golden window on the stairway -of the palace. This window on the stairway of the palace looked out -upon a busy town and down upon the windings of the river Wye, and off -upon hills and upon the ruins of a wonderful old abbey called Tintern -Abbey, about which, some six hundred years later, an English poet -called William Wordsworth was to write a poem called "Tintern Abbey." -Wordsworth wrote "We Are Seven," and also this little poem about a -butterfly: - - - I've watched you now a full half-hour, - Self-poised upon that yellow flower; - And, little Butterfly! indeed - I know not if you sleep or feed. - How motionless! Not frozen seas - More motionless! and then - What joy awaits you, when the breeze - Hath found you out among the trees - And calls you forth again. - This plot of orchard ground is ours; - My trees they are, my Sister's flowers; - Here rest your wings when they are weary; - Here lodge as in a sanctuary! - Come often to us, fear no wrong; - Sit near us on the bough! - We'll talk of sunshine and of song, - And summer days when we were young; - Sweet childish days that were as long - As twenty days are now. - - -But the golden window at which Geoffrey sat was in Monmouth, and he was -called Geoffrey of Monmouth. That was some seven hundred years ago. No -doubt the little town was very busy even in 1137 when Geoffrey sat at -his window and wrote his famous chronicle called _British History_. - -Before Geoffrey began to write down his marvelous stories, other -stories and poems were written. In King Alfred's time, when the home of -English literature was shifted from the north to the south, two fine -battle songs were written. They were the "Song of Brunanburh" and the -"Song of the Fight at Maldon." These were written in the tenth century. -"The Charge of the Light Brigade," composed some eight hundred years -later by the poet Tennyson, is like these old songs in its short, rapid -lines and in its thought. Every one should learn these lines from the -poem Alfred Tennyson wrote: - - - Half a league, half a league, - Half a league onward, - All in the valley of Death - Rode the six hundred. - "Forward the Light Brigade! - Charge for the guns!" he said: - Into the valley of Death - Rode the six hundred. - - "Forward the Light Brigade!" - Was there a man dismayed? - Not tho' the soldier knew - Some one had blunder'd: - Theirs not to make reply, - Theirs not to reason why, - Theirs but to do and die: - Into the valley of Death - Rode the six hundred. - - -But we have been long enough away from that golden window by which -Geoffrey of Monmouth sat and wrote his immortal stories. Geoffrey -was called a chronicler. And what he was supposed to be doing was -jotting down accurately historical events year after year. Some of the -chronicles written in this way have become the chief sources of English -history. Among the men who wrote these chronicles were William of -Malmesbury and Matthew Paris. And between them came Geoffrey himself. - -It will never be known, unless it should prove possible to roll time -back some seven hundred years, just what Geoffrey did see from his -window as he looked out upon the busy town of Monmouth, or all that -went on in his nimble mind. In any event it is plain that he had the -best of good times inventing or retelling stories in his chronicle. -There is to be found the story of King Lear and his three daughters, -Regan, Goneril, and Cordelia--Lear, the hero of Shakespeare's play, -"King Lear," written over four hundred years later. There, too, is -the story of Ferrex and Porrex. Geoffrey had a nimble quill pen with -which to follow his nimble wit. He writes of Julius Cæsar and of -how he came to Great Britain. What Geoffrey of Monmouth says may be -ridiculous enough in the light of history, but there it is, and there -is Cæsar himself, not only looking upon the coast of Britain but -actually standing upon it. We become familiar, too, with many names -known in stories about King Arthur. Perceval is one of these. And Uther -Pendragon, who was the father of King Arthur, is another. - -One of the marvelous facts about Geoffrey is that when he looked out -of that golden window he could see so much farther than just Monmouth. -He could see all the way to the sea, and on its shores that beautiful -city Tintagel, where Queen Igraine, the mother of Arthur, lived. But in -Geoffrey's chronicle she was called Igerna. A name is sometimes like a -long, long journey, not only in its romance, but also because it takes -you to other lands and other people, and passes, even as the road upon -a long journey, through many changes. - - * * * * * - -Geoffrey saw from his golden window not only Tintagel, that beautiful -South Welsh city by the sea, but also a little village in North Wales -called Beddgelert. This little village is set down in the midst of -mountains like a lump of sugar in the bottom of a deep cup. Outside -this little village is a hill called Dinas Emrys. Geoffrey looked -northward out of his golden window in Monmouth, and what do you think -he saw? He saw the magician, Merlin, the youth who had never had a -father. And this lad was quarreling with another lad in Caernarvon, a -Welsh city thirteen miles away from the little village of Beddgelert. - -Now Vortigern had been attempting to build a tower on Dinas Emrys, but -whatever the workmen did one day was swallowed up the next. - -Then some wise men said to Vortigern: "You must find a youth who has -never had a father. You must sacrifice him and sprinkle the foundations -with his blood." - -So Vortigern sent men to find a boy who had never had a father and -who should be brought him that they might kill him. When Vortigern's -messenger reached Caernarvon, thirteen miles away from Beddgelert and -the hill Dinas Emrys, they found two boys playing games and quarreling -about their parentage. And one of them, Dabutius, was accusing the -other, Merlin, of having no father. They took him to Vortigern. - -And Vortigern said, "My magicians told me to seek out a lad who had -no father, with whose blood the foundations of my building are to be -sprinkled to make it stand." - -"Order your magicians," answered Merlin, "to come before me and I will -convict them of a lie." - -It is a terrible thing to be convicted of a lie, and of course the -magicians did not wish to come. But King Vortigern made them come and -ordered them to sit down before Merlin. - -Merlin spoke to them after this manner: "Because you are ignorant what -it is that hinders the foundations of the tower, you have told the King -to kill me and to cement the stones with my blood. But tell me now, -what is there under the foundations that will not suffer it to stand?" - -To this they gave no answer, for they were frightened. - -Then said Merlin, "I entreat your Majesty would command your workmen -to dig into the ground, and you will find a pond which causes the -foundations to sink." - -This the King had done, and a pond was found there. - -Then said Merlin to the King's magicians, "Tell me, ye false men, what -is there under the pond?" - -But they were afraid to answer. - -Merlin turned to King Vortigern and said, "Command the pond to be -drained, and at the bottom you will see two hollow stones, and in them -are two dragons asleep." - -The King had the pond drained, and he found all just as Merlin said it -would be. And as the King sat on the edge of the drained pond out came -the two dragons, one red and one white, and, approaching each other, -they began to fight, blowing forth fire from their nostrils. At last -the white dragon got the advantage and made the red dragon fly to the -other end of the drained pond. - -When King Vortigern asked Merlin to explain what this meant, Merlin -burst into tears. - -Then commanding his voice, he spoke: "In the days that are to come -gold shall be squeezed from the lily and the nettle, and silver shall -flow from the hoofs of bellowing cattle. The teeth of wolves shall be -blunted and the lion's whelps shall be transformed into sea-fishes." - -And unto this day nobody knows exactly what Merlin meant, or what -Geoffrey thought he meant, although there has been much guessing. - - * * * * * - -Geoffrey must have been very fond of looking out of his window and -seeing Merlin, for many a story he tells about him. There is the story -of how Merlin helped to remove the stones of the Giants' Dance from -Ireland. Giants of old had brought them from the farthest coast of -Africa. They were mystical stones and had value to heal and cure men. -When these stones were found too heavy to be lifted by human hands, -Merlin found a way, nevertheless, to lift them. Then the stones of the -Giants' Dance were carried across the sea and placed in England at -Stonehenge. It is an exciting story Geoffrey tells about the Giants' -Dance, yet I fear we know no more really how the big stones got to -Stonehenge than we know about the ribs of our solid earth. Certainly -those stones were set up in Stonehenge even before men began recording -history or Geoffrey of Monmouth sat in his golden window. - -And there is the story of the 40,060 kings who never existed--which is -more almost than ever did exist. And of the coming of St. Augustine to -England, bringing with him the gentle religion of Christ. - -It would be very nice if all this about Merlin and the dragons and the -Giants' Dance were what might be called true history. Alas, it is not! -In the first place, Geoffrey tells stories which vary greatly from what -was actually known to be history. Then, too, this chronicle is full, as -you have seen, of miraculous stories of one sort or another. And there -are other reasons, also, why these delightful stories of Geoffrey of -Monmouth must be taken with a pinch of salt. - -But it is because Geoffrey did sit at his window in the little town -of Monmouth, writing these stories which have to be taken with a -pinch of salt, that English story-telling began to grow. Geoffrey's -imagination was to English story-telling what the sunlight is in -making a tulip grow. Story-telling grew out of the Chronicles, the -so-called historical literature. The men of Geoffrey's time said that -"he had lied saucily and shamelessly." No doubt he had. Yet these -same men could not help reading the stories he told, for they were -so interesting that all men read them. What he had done was to take -several Welsh legends, put them together cleverly, as a carpenter joins -a delicate bit of woodwork, translate these Welsh legends into Latin -and call the work a Chronicle. Not only was it read in England, but it -was read all over the continent of Europe, too. It had great success. - -Geoffrey Gaimer put these stories into French. The stories traveled -to France. Once there, other legends were added, and when Geoffrey's -Chronicle turned up again in England it came back as the work of Wace, -a Norman trouveur, or ballad-singer. But Geoffrey's stories were too -good to let drop even after they had been through so many hands. An -English priest in Worcestershire by the name of Layamon, translating -the French poem which Wace had made out of Geoffrey's prose stories, -retold the stories in English poetry. That was in 1205, after Geoffrey -had died. - -Geoffrey of Monmouth must have been very happy as he sat in his sunny, -golden window and heard about the tales he had written there. He must -have chuckled many a time over what the world had made out of his -nimble story-telling wits. English literature could not be at all the -same, in either prose or poetry, if it were not for that golden palace -door over which was written _Welsh_ or that window upon the stairway -where Geoffrey sat. - -But it was the Normans who brought the taste for history with them -to England in 1066, when they conquered the land which had been King -Alfred's land. It was some time before the Normans became what we call -English in their feeling. Probably the Normans would never have become -so strongly English in feeling if English patriotism, even after the -conquest of 1066, had not remained very much alive. The English had -written down in English some of the proverbs of their former King -Alfred. The parents of the chronicler, William of Malmesbury, were both -English and Norman. And, strangely enough, Layamon's "Brut" is not -unlike the poetry of the cowherd Cædmon, the first of the great English -singers, the first of English poets. - -Perhaps this very hour the sun is shining down upon that golden window -of Geoffrey of Monmouth, and laughing for joy because the man who "lied -so saucily" was the first of the great English story-tellers. - - - - - X - - A FAMOUS KITCHEN BOY - - -Geoffrey's window is a very fascinating place to be--possibly the most -interesting window the world has ever seen. It is not just one lifetime -which has found that window interesting, but more lifetimes than we can -count comfortably. Sir Thomas Malory, who wrote his _Morte d'Arthur_ -in 1469, fairly lived in that window; so did Shakespeare when he wrote -"King Lear" in 1605, and even the modern poet, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, -who wrote "The Charge of the Light Brigade," composed a series of poems -called "Idylls of the King," which return for their sources through -Malory to Geoffrey at his window. - -There is one story, however, which Geoffrey did not see as he looked -out of his golden window--the story of the famous kitchen boy, or -"Gareth and Linet." This tale is found in Sir Thomas Malory's _Morte -d'Arthur_, which was not completed until 1469, many years after the -writing of Geoffrey's Chronicle in 1147. Clear and sunshiny is the -English of this wonderful book of Malory's, and nowhere in the world -can more beautiful, exciting, and marvelous stories be found than -between the covers of the _Morte d'Arthur_. The _Morte d'Arthur_ was -written about twenty years after the invention of printing by Coster -and Gutenberg. Sixteen years after the completion of the book by -Malory, Caxton printed it in black letter in English. There is only one -perfect copy of this book by Caxton, the first of the English printers, -and that is in Brooklyn, New York. In the preface which Caxton wrote -for the _Morte d'Arthur_, he says that in this book will be found "many -joyous and pleasant histories, and noble and renowned acts of humanity, -gentleness and chivalries.... Do after the good and leave the evil, and -it shall bring you good fame and renown." Certainly that is what the -kitchen boy did, and it brought him to good fame. - - * * * * * - -It was one day when King Arthur was holding a Round Table court at -Kynke Kenadonne by the sea. And they were at their meat, three hundred -and fifty knights, when there came into the hall two men well clad -and fine-looking. And, as the old story says, there leaned upon their -shoulders "the goodliest young man and the fairest that ever they all -saw, and he was large and long and broad in the shoulders, and well -visaged, and the fairest and the largest-handed that ever man saw, -but he fared as if he might not go or bear himself--" - - -[Illustration: KNIGHT IN ARMOR -_MS. Roy. 2 A. xxii_ -Late Thirteenth Century] - - -The two men supported the young man up to the high dais upon which -Arthur was feasting. When the young man that was being helped forward -was seen there was silence. Then the young man stretched up straight -and besought Arthur that he would give him three gifts. - -"The first gift I will ask now," he said, "but the other two gifts I -will ask this day twelve months wheresoever you hold your high feast." - -"Ask," replied Arthur, "and you shall have your asking." - -"Sir, this is my petition for this feast: that you will give me meat -and drink enough for this twelvemonth, and at that day I will ask mine -other two gifts." - -"My fair son," said Arthur, "ask better. This is but simple asking." - -But the young man would ask no more. And when the King, who had taken a -great liking to him, asked him for his name, the young man said that he -could not tell him. - -The King took him to Sir Kay, the steward, and charged him to give the -young man the best of all the meats and drinks and to treat him as a -lord's son. - -But Sir Kay was angry, and said: "An he had come of gentlemen, he would -have asked of you horse and armor, but such as he is, so he asketh. -And since he hath no name, I shall give him a name that shall be -Beaumains, that is Fair-hands, and into the kitchen shall I bring him, -and there he shall have fat brose every day, that he shall be as fat by -the twelvemonth's end as a pork hog." - -And Sir Kay scorned him and mocked at him. On hearing this both Sir -Launcelot, the greatest of the Knights of the Round Table, and Sir -Gawaine were wroth and bade Sir Kay leave his mocking. - -"I dare lay my head," said Sir Launcelot, "he shall prove a man of -great worship." - -"It may not be by no reason," replied Sir Kay, "for as he is so hath he -asked." - -Beaumains, or Fair-hands, was put into the kitchen, and lay there -nightly as the boys of the kitchen did. The old book says: "He endured -all that twelvemonth, and never displeased man nor child, but always he -was meek and mild. But ever when he saw any jousting of knights, that -would he see an he might." - -Sir Launcelot gave him gold to spend, and clothes, and whenever the boy -went where there were games or feats of strength he excelled in them -all. - -But always Sir Kay would taunt him with these words spoken to others, -"How like you my boy of the kitchen?" - -And so Fair-hands, the kitchen boy, continued in service for a year. -At the close of the year came a lady to the court and told about her -sister who was besieged in a castle by a tyrant who was called the -Red Knight of the Red Laundes. But she would not tell her name, and -therefore the King would not permit any of his knights to go with her -to rescue her sister from the Red Knight, who was one of the worst -knights in the world. - -But at the King's refusal, Beaumains, or Fair-hands, as he was called, -spoke, "Sir King, God thank you, I have been this twelvemonth in your -kitchen, and have had my full sustenance, and now I will ask my two -gifts that be behind." - -"Ask, upon my peril," said the King. - -"Sir, this shall be my two gifts: first, that you will permit me to go -with this maiden that I may rescue her sister. And second, that Sir -Launcelot shall ride after me and make me knight when I require it of -him." - -And both these requests the King granted. But the maiden was angry -because, she said, he had given her naught but his kitchen page. - -Then came one to Fair-hands and told him that his horse and armor were -come for him. And there was a dwarf with everything that Beaumains -needed, and all of it the richest and best it was possible for man to -have. But though he was horsed and trapped in cloth of gold, he had -neither shield nor spear. - -Then said Sir Kay openly before all, "I will ride after my boy of the -kitchen." - -Just as Beaumains overtook the maiden, so did Sir Kay overtake his -former kitchen page. - -"Sir, know you not me?" he demanded. - -"Yea," said Beaumains, "I know you for an ungentle knight of the court. -Therefore beware of me." - -Thereupon Sir Kay put his spear in the rest and ran straight upon -him, and Beaumains came fast upon him with his sword in his hand. And -Beaumains knocked the spear out of the knight's hand and Sir Kay fell -down as he had been dead. Beaumains took Sir Kay's shield and spear and -rode away upon his own horse. The dwarf took Sir Kay's horse. - -Just then along came Sir Launcelot, and Beaumains challenged him to -a joust. And so they fought for the better part of an hour, rushing -together like infuriated boars. And Sir Launcelot marveled at the young -man's strength, for he fought more like a giant than like a knight. At -last he said, "Fight not so sore; your quarrel and mine is not so great -but we may leave off." - -"Truly that is truth," said Beaumains, "but it doth me good to feel -your strength, and yet, my lord, I showed not the most I could do." - -Then Sir Launcelot confessed to Beaumains that he had much ado to -save himself, and that Beaumains need fear no earthly knight. And -then Beaumains confessed to Sir Launcelot that he was the brother of -Sir Gawaine and the youngest son of King Lot; that his mother, Dame -Morgawse, was sister to King Arthur, and that his name was Gareth. - -After that Launcelot knighted Gareth, and Gareth rode on after the -maiden whose sister was kept a prisoner by the Red Knight. - -When he overtook her she turned upon him and said: "Get away from me, -for thou smellest all of the kitchen. Thy clothes are dirty with grease -and tallow. What art thou but a ladle-washer?" - -"Damosel," replied Beaumains, "say to me what you will, I will not go -from you whatsoever you say, for I have undertaken to King Arthur for -to achieve your adventure, and so shall I finish it to the end or I -shall die therefor." - -Then came a man thereby calling for help, for six thieves were after -him. Even when Beaumains had slain all the six thieves and set the man -free from his fears, then the maiden used him despicably, calling him -kitchen boy and other shameful names. - -On the next day Beaumains slew two knights who would not allow him and -the maiden to cross a great river. - -But all the maiden did was to taunt him. "Alas," she said, "that ever -a kitchen page should have that fortune to destroy even two doughty -knights; but it was not rightly force, for the first knight stumbled -and he was drowned in the water, and by mishap thou earnest up behind -the last knight and thus happily slew him." - -"Say what you will," said Beaumains, "but with whomsoever I have ado -withall, I trust to God to serve him or he depart." - -"Fie, fie, foul kitchen knave," answered the maiden, "thou shalt see -knights that shall abate thy boast." - -And so she continued to scold him and would not rest therefrom. And -they came to a black land, and there was a black hawthorn, and thereon -hung a black banner, and on the other side there hung a black shield, -and by it stood a black spear great and long, and a great black horse -covered with silk, and a black stone fast by. - -And before the Knight of the Black Lands the maiden used Beaumains -despicably, calling him kitchen knave and other such names. And the -Black Knight and Beaumains came together for battle as if it had been -thunder. After hard struggle Beaumains killed the Black Knight and rode -on after the damosel. - -"Away, kitchen boy, out of the wind," she cried, "for the smell of thy -clothes grieves me." - -And so ever despitefully she used him. Yet he overcame the Green -Knight, who was the brother of the Black Knight, and spared his life at -the maiden's request. - -And it was after the vanquishing of the Green Knight that they saw -a tower as white as any snow, and all around the castle it was -double-diked. Over the tower gate there hung fifty shields of divers -colors, and under that tower was a fair meadow. And the lord of the -tower looked out of his window and beheld Beaumains, the maiden, and -the dwarf coming. - -"With that knight will I joust," called the lord of the tower, "for I -see that he is a knight errant." - -And before the knight the maiden used him despitefully. - -And ever he replied, patiently, "Damosel, you are uncourteous so to -rebuke me, for meseemeth I have done you good service." Then did the -heart of the maiden soften a little. - -"I marvel what manner of man you be," she said, "for it may never be -otherwise but that you come of a noble blood, for so shamefully did -woman never rule a knight as I have done you, and ever courteously you -have suffered me, and that comes never but of gentle blood." - -"Damosel," answered Beaumains, "a knight may little do that may not -suffer a damosel. And whether I be gentleman born or not, I let you -wit, fair damosel, I have done you gentleman's service." - -She begged him to forgive her, and this Beaumains did with all his -heart. - -Then they met Sir Persant of Inde, who was dwelling only seven miles -from the siege, and the maiden besought Beaumains to flee while there -was yet time. But he refused. - -And when Sir Persant and Beaumains met they met with all that ever -their horses might run, and broke their spears either into three -pieces, and their horses rushed so together that both their horses fell -dead to the earth. And they got off their horses and fought for more -than two hours. And Beaumains spared his life only at the maiden's -request. - -Then Beaumains told Sir Persant that his name was Sir Gareth. And -the maiden said that hers was Linet, and that she was sister to Dame -Lionesse, who was besieged. - -Then the dwarf took word to the lady who was besieged, and the others -came on after. - -"How escaped he," said the lady, Dame Lionesse, "from the brethren of -Sir Persant?" - -"Madam," said the dwarf, "as a noble knight should." - -"Ah," said Dame Lionesse, "commend me unto your gentle knight, and pray -him to eat and drink and make him strong. Also pray him that he be of -good heart and courage, for he shall meet with a knight who is neither -of bounty, courtesy, nor gentleness; for he attendeth unto nothing but -murder, and that is the cause I cannot praise him nor love him." - -All that night Beaumains lay in an hermitage, and upon the morn he and -the damosel Linet broke their fast and heard mass. Then took they their -horses, and, riding through a fair forest, they came out upon a plain -where there were many pavilions and tents and a castle and much smoke -and a great noise. When they came near the siege Beaumains espied upon -great trees goodly knights hanging by the neck, their shields about -their necks with their swords, and gilt spurs upon their heels. There -hung high forty knights. - -"What meanest this?" said Sir Beaumains. - -"Fair sir, "answered the damosel, "these knights came hither to this -siege to rescue my sister, Dame Lionesse, and when the Red Knight of -the Red Lands had overcome them he put them to this shameful death." - -Then rode they to the dikes, and saw them double-diked with full -warlike walls; and there were lodged many great lords nigh the walls; -and there was great noise of minstrelsy; and the sea beat upon the side -of the walls, where there were many ships and mariners' noise. And also -there was fast by a sycamore-tree, and there hung a horn, the greatest -that ever they saw, of an elephant's bone. Therewith Beaumains spurred -his horse straight to the sycamore-tree, and blew so eagerly the horn -that all the siege and the castle rang thereof. And then there leaped -out knights out of their tents and pavilions, and they within the -castle looked over the walls and out of windows. Then the Red Knight of -the Red Lands armed him hastily, and two barons set on his spurs upon -his heels, and all was blood red, his armor, spear, and shield. - -"Sir," said the damosel Linet, "look you be glad and light, for yonder -is your deadly enemy, and at yonder window is my sister, Dame Lionesse." - -Then Beaumains and the Red Knight put their spears in their rests, -and came together with all their might, and either smote the other in -the middle of their shields, that the surcingles and cruppers broke -and fell to the earth both, and the two knights lay stunned upon the -ground. But soon they got to their feet and drew their swords and ran -together like two fierce lions. And then they fought until it was past -noon, tracing, racing, and foining as two boars. Thus they endured -until evensong time, and their armor was so hewn to pieces that men -might see their naked sides. Then the Red Knight gave Beaumains a -buffet upon the helm, so that he fell groveling to the earth. - -Then cried the maiden Linet on high: "Oh, Sir Beaumains, where is thy -courage? Alas! my sister beholdeth thee and she sobbeth and weepeth." - -When Beaumains heard this he lifted himself up with great effort and -got upon his feet, and lightly he leaped to his sword and gripped it in -his hand. And he smote so thick that he smote the sword out of the Red -Knight's hand. Sir Beaumains fell upon him and unlaced his helm to have -slain him. But at the request of the lords he saved his life and made -him yield him to the lady. - -And so it was that Beaumains, or Sir Gareth, as his real name was, came -into the presence of his lady and won her love through his meekness and -gentleness and courtesy and courage, as every true knight should win -the love of his lady. - - * * * * * - -So ends happily one of the charming stories of adventure and knighthood -in one of the greatest Cycles of Romance the world has ever known. -Indeed, in that Great Palace we have entered, and some of whose golden -doors we have been opening, there is no door more loved by human beings -than the one over which is written _Romance_, for boys and girls and -their elders have always loved a romantic story, and always will. - -There are four great romantic stories in the Palace of English -Literature. The first is _King Arthur and the Round Table_, which -Geoffrey of Monmouth discovered for us by his golden window. The second -great romance is the story of Charlemagne. This was in the twelfth -century, and the most valiant story which grew out of the Charlemagne -Cycle was that of Roland. Every one should know the story of Roland and -his famous sword, Durendal. The third is the _Life_ _of Alexander_, -which came to England from the east. And the fourth is the _Siege of -Troy_, composed in the thirteenth century and written in Latin. - -It takes many, many stories to satisfy our love of Romance. As we pass -through the golden door over which is written _Romance_, one whole -wall is filled with the names of lesser romances forgotten long, long -ago. But the stories which Sir Thomas Malory gave us in his _Morte -d'Arthur_, written in 1469, will never be forgotten as long as the -English language is spoken. - - - - - CHRONOLOGY - - - -------+----------------------+----------------------+--------------------- - | HISTORY | LITERATURE | SCIENCE AND ART - -------+----------------------+----------------------+--------------------- - | Romans leave | St. Augustine, | Galen, the great - | Britain, 409-420. | 354-430. | doctor, d. 200. - | Coming of Angles and | Earliest Gaelic lays,| Baths of Caracalla, - 200-600| Saxons, 449. | 200-300. | 215. - | King Arthur, d. 520. | St. Patrick, d. 465. | Great Roman Roads. - | | Merlin, 475-575. | Underground churches - | | Taliesin, 500-560. | for Christians, - | | "Traveller's Song," | 250-260. - | | Widsith. | Glass used in - | | | cathedral - | | | windows, 300. - | | | First bells in - | | | Europe. - | | | The first clock, - | | | a water-clock, - | | | 5th century. - -------+----------------------+----------------------+--------------------- - | Charlemagne, | Beowulf, 7th century,| The first stone - | 742-814. | formative period. | English churches, - | First landing of | Cædmon, late 7th | 680. - | Danes, 787. | century. | The organ used in a - | Alfred, 871-900. | Judith. | church, 757. - | Battle of | The Fight at | Worms Cathedral - | Brunanburh, 937. | Finnesburg. | commenced, 996. - | Canute, 1016-1035. | St. Cuthbert, d.686. | - | Macbeth, 1040-1057. | Aldhelm, 655-709. | - | Edward the | _Arabian Nights_ | - | Confessor, 1042. | (Traditions of), | - 600- | Harold, 1066. | c. 700. | - 1066 | | "Deor's Lament." | - | | Bede, 670?-735. | - | | Cynewulf, c. | - | | 725-800. | - | | Old German | - | | alliterative | - | | poetry, 8th | - | | century. | - | | Nennius, Historia | - | | Britonum, probl. | - | | 9th century. | - | | Alfred's | - | | translations, | - | | after 871. | - | | Anglo-Saxon | - | | Chronicle, | - | | 875-1154. | - | | _Asser's Life of | - | | Alfred_, 910. | - | | Poems "Battle of | - | | Brunanburh," 937; | - | | "Battle of | - | | Maldon," 994. | - | | First medieval | - | | drama, 980. | - | | Aelfric's Homilies, | - | | 995. | - | | Early Chanson de | - | | Gestes and | - | | Fabliaux, 1000 | - | | and later. | - -------+----------------------+----------------------+--------------------- - | William the | "Chanson de Roland," | Striking clocks with - | Conqueror, | composed | wheels, late - | 1066-1087. | 1066-1097? | 11th century. - | The Crusades, | Archbishop Anselm, | Westminster Hall and - | 1095-1270. | 1093-1109. | London Bridge - | Feudal system | William of Guienne, | built, late 11th - | in England. | the first | century. - | _Domesday Book_, | troubadour, | Wool manufactured - | 1086. | late 11th | in England, early - | William II., | century. | 12th century. - | 1087-1100. | William of | Silk cultivated in - | Henry I., 1100-1135. | Malmesbury, | Sicily, 1146. - | Stephen, 1135-1154. | 1095-1142. | Leaning Tower of - | Civil War, | Chansons | Pisa commenced, - 1066- | 1139-1142. | d'Alexandre, | 1174. - 1200 | Henry II., | 1050-1150. | - | 1154-1189. | Chronicle of | - | Thomas à Becket, | Geoffrey of | - | d. 1170. | Monmouth, 1137. | - | Richard I., | Nibelungen Lied, | - | 1189-1199. | c. 1140. | - | John, 1199-1216. | Wace's "Brut | - | | d'Angleterre," | - | | 1155. | - | | Minnesingers. | - | | Arthurian legends, | - | | 12th century. | - | | Giraldus Cambrensis, | - | | 1147-1216. | - | | Crestien de Troyes, | - | | 1140-1227. | - | | Gottfried von | - | | Strasburg. | - | | Marie de France, | - | | Lais, late 12th | - | | century. | - -------+----------------------+----------------------+--------------------- - | Magna Charta, 1215. | Walther von der | University of Paris - | Henry III., | Vogelweide, c. | Charter, c. 1200. - | 1216-1272. | 1170-1235. | The University of - | The Barons' War, | St. Francis of | Oxford Charter, - | 1262-1266. | Assisi, 1182-1226. | c. 1200. - | Edward I., | Wolfram von | The University of - | 1272-1307. | Eschenbach's | Cambridge - | Wales subdued, 1282. | "Parzival," early | Charter, c. 1231. - | William Wallace, fl. | 13th century. | Roger Bacon, - | 1296-1298. | The Bestiary, early | 1214-1292. - | Edward II., | 13th century. | (Reference to - | 1307-1327. | Romance of the Rose, | gunpowder.) - | Robert Bruce, | 13th and 14th | Cologne Cathedral - | 1306-1329. | centuries. | commenced, 1249. - 1200- | Battle of | Havelok (English | First rag paper, c. - 1350 | Bannockburn, 1314, | version), 1300. | 1300. - | Edward III., | Bevis of Hampton | First apothecaries - | 1327-1377. | (English version), | in England, 1345. - | Scotland | c. 1300. | Glass windows in - | reorganized, 1328. | Guy of Warwick | general use, - | Opening of Hundred | (English version), | 1345. - | Years' War | c. 1300. | - | with France, 1337. | Mabinogion, | - | | 1250-1290. | - | | King Horn (English | - | | version), 1250. | - | | Dante, 1265-1321. | - | | Jean de Meung, b. | - | | 1280. | - -------+----------------------+----------------------+--------------------- - - - - - Transcriber's Note: - - Italics are indicated by _underscores_. Small capitals have been - rendered in full capitals. - A number of minor spelling errors have been corrected without note. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Early English Hero Tales, by Jeannette Marks - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EARLY ENGLISH HERO TALES *** - -***** This file should be named 53723-8.txt or 53723-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/7/2/53723/ - -Produced by Shaun Pinder, Haragos Pál and The Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Early English Hero Tales - -Author: Jeannette Marks - -Release Date: December 12, 2016 [EBook #53723] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EARLY ENGLISH HERO TALES *** - - - - -Produced by Shaun Pinder, Haragos Pál and The Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%" > -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" style="width: 70%" /> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p class="center"><big>THROUGH GOLDEN DOORS</big><br /> -TO<br /> -<big>ENGLISH LITERATURE</big></p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p class="center"><big>THROUGH GOLDEN DOORS</big><br /> - -TO<br /> - -<big>ENGLISH LITERATURE</big></p> - -<p class="center"><small>A NEW SERIES</small><br /> - -<span class="smcap">By Jeannette Marks</span><br /> - -<i><small>Lecturer at Mt. Holyoke College</small></i></p> - - -<p>The master-stories of English literature told for young -readers. The author, who has been professor of English Literature -at Mt. Holyoke and the author of several successful -books for both younger and older readers, has been occupied -for a long time in making a selection of the best stories from the -greatest English writers beginning with "Beowulf" and the dawn -of English letters.</p> - -<p>The present volume offers masterpieces chosen from the -earliest English literature from the seventh to the fourteenth -century, stories which are not readily accessible.</p> - -<p>The second volume will offer hero tales of the Middle English -period, from Chaucer and others.</p> - -<p>In later volumes selections will be made from the masters -of modern English literature.</p> - - -<p class="p10"><big>EARLY ENGLISH HERO TALES</big></p> -<p class="center">From 600 to 1340<br /> -Other books in preparation<br /> -<i>Each illustrated, 12mo, Cloth, 50 cents net</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers, Publishers</span></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><a name="i004"></a></p> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%" > -<img src="images/004.jpg" alt="" style="width: 80%" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="center">MEDIEVAL LONDON<br /> -<i>From Manuscript 16 F. ii in the British Museum</i></p> -</div> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p><a name="title"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%" > -<img src="images/title.jpg" alt="Title page" style="width: 80%" /> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<h1>EARLY<br /> -ENGLISH<br /> -HERO TALES</h1> - -<p class="center">TOLD BY<br /> -<big>JEANNETTE MARKS</big><br /> -<small><small>WELLESLEY M.A.</small></small><br /> -<small><small>LECTURER AT MT. HOLYOKE COLLEGE</small></small></p> - - -<p class="p22">ILLUSTRATED</p> - - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 20%" > -<img src="images/title2.jpg" alt="Title page" style="width: 20%" /> -</div> - - - -<p class="p22"><big>HARPER & BROTHERS</big><br /> -<small>NEW YORK & LONDON</small></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p class="center"> -<small>COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY HARPER & BROTHERS</small><br /> -<br /> -<small>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</small><br /> -<small>PUBLISHED APRIL, 1915</small> -</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p class="center">TO<br /> -H. M. C.<br /> -</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - - -<table class="toc" summary="Contents"> -<tr> - <th class="tocnum">CHAP.</th> - <th class="toctit"></th> - <th class="tocpag">PAGE</th> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum"></td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#INTRODUCTION">Introduction</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">vii</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">I</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#I">The First English Hero</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">1</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">II.</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#II">Welsh Magic</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">9</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">III.</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#III">The Battle at the Ford</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">18</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">IV.</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#IV">Cædmon the Cowherd</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">30</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">V.</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#V">The Shepherd of Lauderdale</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">41</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">VI.</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#VI">The Boy Who Won a Prize</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">48</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">VII.</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#VII">A Fisherman's Boy</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">57</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">VIII.</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#VIII">The Werewolf</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">68</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">IX.</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#IX">At Geoffrey's Window</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">75</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum">X.</td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#X">A Famous Kitchen Boy</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">85</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="tocnum"></td> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHRONOLOGY">Chronology</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">101</td> -</tr> -</table> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - - -<table class="toc" summary="Illustrations"> -<tr> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#i004">Medieval London</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="toctit2">(From Green's <i>Short History of the English People.</i>)</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#i045">Kings in Armor</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">27</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="toctit2">(From Green's <i>Short History of the English People</i>.)</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#i079">Henry III. Sailing Home from Gascony, 1243</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">61</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="toctit2">(From Green's <i>Short History of the English People</i>.)</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="toctit"><span class="smcap"><a href="#i105">Knight in Armor</a></span></td> - <td class="tocpag">87</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="toctit2">(From Green's <i>Short History of the English People</i>.)</td> -</tr> -</table> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - -<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION</a></h2> - - -<p>Supposing you were asked to enter a Great -Palace? And within that palace, you were -told, were more than a thousand golden doors? -And those doors opened into rooms and upon gardens -and balconies, all of which were the most -beautiful of palace rooms and gardens? And -some were more beautiful than anything the world -had ever known before? Do you think you would -go through the gate to that palace?</p> - -<p>And if you were told that in the palace were -lamps so bright that they lighted not only the -palace, but cast a glow over the whole world? -And that these lamps hung from chains the ends -of which you could not see, just as Pryderi was -not able to see the ends of the hanging golden -chains in the palace which he entered? And -once within the Great Palace you were not only -better for being there, but also happier and -stronger and more beautiful, and never any more -could you be lonely? It sounds like an Aladdin's -lamp, does it not, which, once seen and touched, -could bring so much beauty and power into our -lives! Indeed, it is Aladdin's lamp—the lamp -of men's minds and souls. And the Great Palace -is the Palace of English Literature.</p> - -<p>Over those doors are many names written—names -never to be forgotten while the English -tongue is spoken. And in that palace there is -fairyland; there are giants and monsters; there -are warrior heroes like Beowulf, and saintly -heroes like Cuthbert; there are noble boys like -Alfred; there are poets, princes, lovely ladies, -little children, spirited horses, faithful dogs; -there are heard the sound of singing, the playing -of the harp, the beat of feet dancing, cries of gladness, -cries of sorrow, the rolling of the organ, the -fluting of birds, the laughter of water, and the -whisper of every wind that has blown upon the -fields of the world; there are seen flowers of -every marvelous and starlike shape, of every -rainbow hue, and jewels as shining as the lamps -hanging in the Great Palace, and fruits rare and -strange filling the Great Palace with sweet fragrance -and color; there are rooms unlike any rooms -we have ever seen before; and the years are there—nearly -two thousand—numbered and made beautiful; -there, too, are Wisdom and Kindness and -Courage and Faith and Modesty and Love and -Self-Control, coming and going hither and yon -through the wide hallways or on service bent up -and down the narrow corridors.</p> - -<p>It is a Palace of Enchantment, is it not? Yes, -it is a Palace of Enchantment, and I can think of -no greater happiness, no stronger assurance that -we shall learn how to be our best selves and to -rule ourselves, no greater inspiration to be wise -and kind while we are boys and girls, and when -we grow up no fuller promise of a good time and -many kinds of happiness and pleasure, than just -to take the gate into that palace, listen to its -songs and poems and stories, taste of its fruits, -hold some of its flowers in our hands, grow warm -in its sunshine, dream in its moonlight, and watch -the fairies dance with the feet that dance there, -play with its jewels, listen to the whisper of the -winds that blow around the world, lay our hands -in the brave hands of Love and Courage, Wisdom -and Kindness, who dwell there; knock on those -golden doors where we would go in and be alone; -and come out again, knowing that we have won -the great enchantment, which is the companionship -of beautiful and imperishable story and -poem, song and play.</p> - -<p>It is a wonderful Palace of English Literature -in which we shall see many marvels: the first -English hero, Beowulf, and the monster Grendel; -all the fortunes and misfortunes of the little, -radiant-browed Welsh boy called Taliesin, the -battle of the friends Cuchulain and Ferdiad, who -were betrayed by the false Irish Queen Maeve; -how song came to our first great English poet, -Cædmon, in the cow-stall at the Monastery of -Whitby (670); of the courage of a shepherd lad -who had became a saint, and of even the seals -who loved St. Cuthbert (seventh century); of -the young Prince Alfred who won a book as a -prize (849-900); of Havelok, the son of the King -of Denmark, who lived with Fisherman Grim at -Grimsby; of a man who was under enchantment -as a wolf part of the week and whom Marie -de France called a Werewolf; of all the marvels -that Geoffrey of Monmouth (1147) saw from his -window; and especially of the wonders which -King Arthur's magician, Merlin, worked; and of -the red and white dragons that came out of a -drained pond; and of a famous kitchen-boy who -became a great knight, and about whom Sir -Thomas Malory tells one exciting adventure in -the <i>Morte d'Arthur</i> (1469).</p> - -<p>What boys and girls will enter the gate with -me? Shall we go into the Great Palace to-day? -And on what golden door shall we rap first that -we may be admitted?</p> - -<p class="right"><big>J. M.</big></p> - -<p><small><span class="smcap">South Hadley, Mass.</span>, <i>January, 1915</i>.</small></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p class="p22"> -EARLY ENGLISH HERO<br /> -TALES</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - - - -<p class="p22"><big><big><big>EARLY ENGLISH HERO TALES</big></big></big></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="I" id="I">I</a><br /><br /> - -<small>THE FIRST ENGLISH HERO</small></h2> - - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 8%" > -<img src="images/019.jpg" alt="" style="width: 100%" /> -</div> - - -<p>The first golden door we open in -the Great Palace shows us a hero, and -that is as it should be, for the English -have always been brave. Yet probably -the poem about this first English hero -is not the first poem. The first is a -poem by the name of the "Far Traveller." -"Many men and rulers have -I known," says this traveler; "through -many strange lands I have fared throughout the -spacious earth." This poem may not be of great -value, but it is a wonderful experience to open -this door and see back, back, back, thousands of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>years to the very cradle in which English literature -was born. This first Englishman was a wanderer, -as all Englishmen, despite their love of home, -have been, or else they would not hold so many -great dominions as they do to-day. Then, too, -there was "Deor's Lament," with its sad refrain,</p> - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0"><i>Thas ofer eode, thisses swa maeg</i></span> - <span class="i0">(That was overcome, so may this be)</span> - </div> -</div> - -<p>and its grave thought that "The All-wise Lord of -the world worketh many changes." One more -poem, or, better, fragment, is spoken of in <i>Beowulf</i>. -"The Fight at Finnesburg" is full of the -savagery and fierceness of warfare; it is even more -wild and barbarous than "Beowulf."</p> - -<p>Now let us open the door over which is written -<i>Beowulf</i>. It is one of the oldest and rudest of -the golden doors in the Great Palace of English -Poetry, but also one of the most precious. The -pictures we are to see are beautiful sometimes. -More often they are cruel and pitiless.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The sun was shining, the wind was blowing, the -air was as sweet-smelling as if it rose from fields -of lilies, and it was the very springtime of the -world some two thousand years ago.</p> - -<p>By song little Widsith has seen his master bind -all men and all beasts. Not only the fish and -worms forgot their tasks, but even the cattle -stopped grazing, and, where they passed, men and -children paused to listen. They were on their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> -way to the Great Hall to have a sight of the hero, -Beowulf.</p> - -<p>Behind them lay the sea and the coast-guard -pacing up and down. Before them, landward, -rose a long, high-roofed hall. It had gable ends -from which towered up huge stag-horns. And the -roof shone only less brightly than the sun, for it -was covered with metal.</p> - -<p>About the Great Hall toward which little Widsith -and the master were traveling was the village -made up of tiny houses, each in its own patch of -tilled ground and apple-trees, and with fields in -which sheep and oxen and horses were pastured. -Narrow paths wound in and out everywhere. -In front of the Hall was a broad meadow across -which the king and queen and their lords and -ladies were used to walk.</p> - -<p>There was much going on that day in Heorot. -Flocks of children were playing about the pretty -paths. Mothers and aunts and older sisters sat -spinning in the open doorways. Beyond the wide -meadow young men and boys were leading or -riding spirited horses up and down to exercise -them.</p> - -<p>And all—men, women, and children alike—were -talking about Beowulf, who had come to kill the -monster Grendel and free the people of Heorot.</p> - -<p>Beowulf had not much more than entered the -Hall when the scôp, or singer, as little Widsith's -master was called, entered too. In those days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> -singers were welcome everywhere. They saw -Beowulf stride mightily across the many-colored -floor of Heorot and go up to the old King. And -they heard his voice, which sounded like the -rumble of a heavy sea on their rock-bound coast.</p> - -<p>"Hrothgar!" he said to the old King, "across -the sea's way have I come to help thee."</p> - -<p>"Of thee, Beowulf, have we need," replied the -old King in tears, "for Heorot has suffered much -from the monster."</p> - -<p>"I will deliver thee, Hrothgar," said Beowulf, -in his great voice; "thee and all who dwell in -Heorot."</p> - -<p>"Steep and stony are the sea cliffs, joyless our -woods and wolf-haunted, robbed is our Heorot, -for to Grendel can no man do aught. He breaks -the bones of my people. And those of my people -he cannot eat in Heorot he drags away on to -the moor and devours alive."</p> - -<p>And the old, bald-headed King, seated on his -high seat in the Hall between his pretty daughter -and his tired Queen, sighed as he thought of the -approaching night. Yet, now that Beowulf had -come, he hoped.</p> - -<p>Together they gathered about the banquet. -Beowulf sat among the sons of the old King. -The walls inside were as bright as the roof, and -gold-gilded, and the great fires from which smoke -poured out through openings in the roof were -cheerful and warm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<p>Then little Widsith's master was called up, -and Widsith placed the harp for him. Clear rose -the song from the scôp's lips, and all the company -was still. For a while they forgot the monster -which, even now with the falling dusk, was striding -up from the sea, perhaps by the same path -Beowulf and Widsith and the scôp had come. -Already it had grown dark under heaven and -darker in the Hall, and the place was filled with -shadowy shapes.</p> - -<p>And now came Grendel stalking from the cloudy -cliffs toward the Gold Hall. It would have been -hard for four men to have carried his huge head, -so big it was. The nails of his hands were like -iron, and large as the monstrous claws of a wild -beast. And, since there was a spell upon him, no -sword or spear could harm him.</p> - -<p>While others slept—even frightened little Widsith, -who had thought he could never sleep—Beowulf -lay awake, ready with his naked hands -to fight Grendel.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the monster smote the door of Heorot, -and it cracked asunder. In he strode, flame -in his eyes, and before Beowulf could spring upon -him or any one awake, he snatched a sleeping -warrior and tore him to pieces.</p> - -<p>Beowulf, who had the strength of thirty men -in his body, gripped him, and the dreadful battle -and noise began. The benches were overturned, -the walls cracked, the fires were scattered, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> -dust rose in clouds from the many-colored floor -as Beowulf wrestled with Grendel.</p> - -<p>The scôp had seized his harp and was playing -a great battle song, but music has no power -over such evil as Grendel's. Beowulf himself, -who was struggling to break the bone-house -of the monster in the din of the mighty battle, -did not hear it, either. And the song was lost -in the noise and dust which rose together in -Heorot.</p> - -<p>Even the warriors, who struck Grendel with -their swords, could not help Beowulf, for neither -sword nor spear could injure the monster. Only -the might of the hero, himself, could do aught.</p> - -<p>At last, with the strength of thirty men, Beowulf -gripped the monster. And Grendel, with -rent sinews and bleeding body, fled away to the -ocean cave where he had lived. And there in the -cave, with the sea blood-stained and boiling above -him, he died, outlawed for evil.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In the second part of this poem Beowulf was -living as king in his own land, and ruling like the -great and brave king he was. But a huge old -dragon who was guarding a treasure was robbed. -So angry was the dragon that he left his heap of -treasure and came down upon the land of King -Beowulf, burning it and terrifying the people. -Then Beowulf, who had become an old man, felt -that he must fight to save his people. He went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> -out and slew the dragon, but was himself scorched -to death by the fiery breath of the dragon.</p> - -<p>"Beowulf" is the epic of our old English period. -An epic is an heroic poem. In "Beowulf" the -story of Beowulf's great deeds—such as his struggle -with Grendel and Grendel's mother—and of -his death is told. Probably it was sung before -the fifth century, when the English conquered -Britain, for England itself is not mentioned in this -wonderful poem. Indeed, the country described -is that of the Goths of Sweden and of the Danes. -Your geography will show you where Sweden -and Denmark are. When the English forefathers -came to England they brought this poem with -them, perhaps in the form of short poems which -were woven together by a Christian Northumbrian -poet in the eighth century or thereabouts.</p> - -<p>It will be interesting to see how this wild moorland, -over which Grendel stalked and over which -the dreadful dragon dragged his length, became, -with the cultivation of the land and advancing -civilization, the gentle and beautiful dwelling of -the fairies. The fairies will not live where it is -too wild.</p> - -<p>Much is to be learned from this epic of the customs -and the manners of the men who came to -Britain and conquered it. We can see these -people as they lived in their sea-circled settlements, -the ships they used to sail upon the sea, -how their villages looked, and the boys and girls<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -and grown-ups in them; the rocks and hills and -ocean waves that made up their out-of-door world; -the good times they had; their games and amusements. -We come to know the respect that was -given to their women; we see the bravery of the -men in facing death, and we hear the songs they -sang.</p> - -<p>"Beowulf" is a great poem—English literature -knows no poem that is more sacred to it—but it -is a sorrowful poem, too. These people believed -in Fate, for Christ had not yet been brought to -them with His message of love and peace and joy. -English poetry to-day is much more joyous—because -it is Christian poetry—than it ever could -have been if England had remained a heathen -land. Yet English poetry still has much in common -with "Beowulf," in love of the sea and worship -of nature, and a strange sense of Fate.</p> - -<p>But we must close this door over which is -written <i>Beowulf</i>, for the Great Palace is full of -many doors and many stories, and we have only -just begun our journey from golden door to golden -door.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="II" id="II">II</a><br /><br /> - -<small>WELSH MAGIC</small></h2> - - -<p>On the other side of most of the golden doors -through which we shall pass, our own tongue, -English, is spoken. Yet in this wonderful palace, -full of beautiful thoughts and beautiful expression, -there are two doors which when thrown -open we may enter, but where our English would -not be understood. They both admit us to the -poems and prose of families of the same race—a -race called Celtic. Over one door of this family, -however, is written <i>Cymric</i>, and all that is Cymric -is written and spoken in Welsh. On the other -door is <i>Gaelic</i>, and all that is Gaelic is Irish and -Scotch. And the Great Palace of English Literature, -with its innumerable golden doors, would -not be at all the same palace if it were not for -these two little doors, for out of them has come -much that is best in poetry and prose.</p> - -<p>The Welsh were already in Britain when the so-called -"English" landed on the island, and these -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>English, after one hundred and fifty years, succeeded -in driving the Welsh, or Cymru, back to -the mountains and coast on the west of the island. -There they lived among the mountains, -holding fast to their customs and to their songs -and poetry. And by and by, when it was time -for this miracle to happen, the little golden door -over which was written <i>Cymric</i>, or <i>Welsh</i>, opened, -and out of it there passed one of the most beautiful -story-cycles the world has ever known, the -tales about King Arthur. But of this great story -we shall hear later.</p> - -<p>This little golden door may be the oldest in -all the palace, for long before the Arthur story -was born there were other tales which the Cymru -loved. There is a word "prehistoric" which accurately -describes some of these stories known as -<i>Mabinogion</i>, which means, literally, Tales for the -Children, or Little Ones. This famous book was -translated from Welsh into English by Lady -Charlotte Guest in 1838. Among the oldest of -these tales is "Taliesin," which has behind it a -prehistoric singer, a mythic singer.</p> - -<p>And now let us open that door over which is -written <i>Cymric</i>, or <i>Welsh</i>, and look in.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Long ago, at the beginning of King Arthur's time -and the famous Round Table, there lived a man -whose name was Tegid Voel. His wife was called -Caridwen. And there was born to them a son, -Avagddu, who was the ugliest boy in all the world.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> - -<p>When Caridwen looked at Avagddu, and knew -beyond any doubt that he was the ugliest boy in -all the world, she was much troubled. Therefore -she decided to boil a caldron of Inspiration and -Science for her son, so that Avagddu might hold -an honorable position because of his knowledge.</p> - -<p>Caridwen filled the caldron and began to boil -it, and all knew that it must not cease boiling for -one year and a day—that is, until three drops of -Inspiration had been distilled from it. Gwion -Bach she put to stirring the caldron, and Morda, -a blind man, was to keep the caldron boiling day -and night for the whole year. And every day -Caridwen gathered charm-bearing herbs and put -them in to boil.</p> - -<p>And it was one day toward the close of the year -that three drops of the liquid in the caldron flew -out upon the finger of Gwion Bach, who was stirring -the liquid. It burnt him, and he put his -finger in his mouth. Because of the magic of -those drops he knew all that was going to happen. -And he was afraid of the wiles of Caridwen, and -in fear he ran away.</p> - -<p>All the liquor in the caldron, except the three -charm-bearing drops that had fallen upon the -finger of Gwion Bach, was poisonous, and therefore -the caldron burst. When Caridwen saw -the work of her whole year lost, she was angry -and seized a stick of wood. With the stick she -struck Morda on the head.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Thou hast disfigured me wrongfully," he said, -"for I am innocent."</p> - -<p>"Thou speakest truth," she replied; "it was -Gwion Bach robbed me."</p> - -<p>And Caridwen went forth after Gwion Bach, -running.</p> - -<p>When little Gwion saw her coming, because of -the magic drops that had touched his finger, he -was able to change himself into a hare. But -thereupon Caridwen changed herself into a greyhound, -and there was a race fleeter almost than -the wind. Caridwen was nearly upon him when -little Gwion turned toward the river and became -a fish. Then Caridwen changed herself from a -greyhound into an otter, and chased little Gwion -under the water. So close was the chase that he -had to turn himself into a bird of the air. Whereupon -Caridwen became a hawk and followed him -and gave him no rest in the sky. She was just -swooping down upon him, and little Gwion thought -that the hour of his death had come, when he -saw a heap of winnowed wheat on the floor of the -barn, and he dropped into the wheat and turned -himself into one of the grains. And then what -do you think happened? Caridwen changed herself -into a high-crested black hen, hopped into the -wheat, scratching it with her feet, found poor little -Gwion Bach, who had once been a boy, then in -turn became a rabbit, a fish, a bird of the air, -and was now a grain of wheat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> - -<p>Caridwen swallowed him! But so powerful -was the magic of those three drops of Inspiration -which had touched his finger, that little Gwion -appeared in the world again, entering it as a -beautiful child. And even Caridwen, because of -his beauty, could not bear to kill him, so she -wrapped him in a leathern bag and cast him into -the sea. That was on the twenty-ninth day of -April.</p> - -<p>Where Caridwen threw little Gwion into the -sea was near the fishing-weir of Gwyddno by -Aberstwyth. And even as Caridwen had the -ugliest son in all the world, so had Gwyddno the -most unlucky, and his name was Elphin. This -year Gwyddno had told Elphin that he might -have the drawing of the weir on May Eve. Usually -the fish they drew from the weir were worth -about one hundred pounds in good English silver. -His father thought that if luck were ever going -to come to Elphin, it would come with the drawing -of the weir on May Eve.</p> - -<p>But on the next day, when Elphin went to -look, there was nothing in the weir except a -leathern bag hanging on a pole.</p> - -<p>One of the men by the weir said to Elphin: -"Now hast thou destroyed the virtue of the weir. -There is nothing in it but this worthless bag."</p> - -<p>"How now," said Elphin, "there may be in -this bag the value of an hundred pounds."</p> - -<p>They took the bag down from the pole, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -Elphin opened it, and as he opened it he saw the -forehead of a beautiful boy.</p> - -<p>"Behold a radiant brow!" cried Elphin. "Taliesin -shall he be called."</p> - -<p>Although Elphin lamented his bad luck at the -weir, yet he carried the child home gently on -his ambling horse. Suddenly the little boy began -to sing a song in which he told Elphin that -the day would come when he would be of more -service to him than the value of three hundred -salmon.</p> - -<p>And this song of comfort was the first poem -the little, radiant-browed Taliesin ever sang. But -when Gwyddno, the father of Elphin, asked him -what he was, he sang again and told the story of -how he had fled in many shapes from Caridwen; -as a frog, as a crow, as a chain, as a rose entangled -in a thicket, as a wolf cub, as a thrush, -as a fox, as a martin, as a squirrel, as a stag's -antler, as iron in glowing fire, as a spear-head -from the hand of one who fights, as a fierce -bull, as a bristly boar, and in many other forms, -only to be gobbled up in the end as a grain of -wheat by a black hen.</p> - -<p>"What is this?" said Gwyddno to his son -Elphin.</p> - -<p>"It is a bard—a poet," the son answered.</p> - -<p>"Alas! what will he profit thee?"</p> - -<p>"I shall profit Elphin more than the weir has -ever profited thee," answered Taliesin.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> - -<p>And the little, radiant-browed boy began to -sing another song:</p> - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">"Wherefore should a stone be hard;</span> - <span class="i1">Why should a thorn be sharp-pointed;</span> - <span class="i1">Who is hard like flint;</span> - <span class="i1">Who is salt like brine;</span> - <span class="i1">Who is sweet like honey;</span> - <span class="i1">Who rides in the gale?"</span> - </div> -</div> - -<p>Then bade he Elphin wager the King that he -had a horse better and swifter than any of the -King's horses. Thus Elphin did, and the King -set the day and the time for the race at the place -called the Marsh of Rhiannedd. And thither -every one followed the King, who took with him -four-and-twenty of his swiftest horses.</p> - -<p>The course was marked and the horses were -placed for running. Then in came Taliesin with -four-and-twenty twigs of holly, which he had -burned black, and he put them in the belt of the -youth who was to ride Elphin's horse. He told -this youth to let all the King's horses get ahead -of him; but as he overtook one horse after the -other he was to take one of the burnt twigs of -holly and strike the horse over the crupper, then -let the twig fall. This the youth who rode Elphin's -horse was to do to each of the King's -horses as he overtook it, and he was to watch -where his own horse should stumble, and throw -down his cap on that spot.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> - -<p>Thereupon the youth who rode Elphin's horse, -and all the King's riders, pricked forth upon their -steeds, their horses with bridles of linked gold -on their heads, and gold saddles upon their backs. -And the racing horses with their shell-formed -hoofs cast up sods, so swiftly did they run, like -swallows in the air. Blades of grass bent not beneath -the fleet, light hoofs of the coursers.</p> - -<p>Elphin's horse won the race. Taliesin brought -Elphin, when the race was over, to the place where -the horse had stumbled and where the youth had -thrown down his cap as he had been told. Elphin -did as Taliesin bade him and put workmen to dig -a hole in this spot. And when they had dug the -ground deep enough, there was found a large -caldron full of gold.</p> - -<p>Then said Taliesin: "Elphin, behold! See what -I give thee for having taken me out of the weir -and the leathern bag! Is this not worth more to -thee than three hundred salmon?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In the <i>Mabinogion</i> stories, first collected and -set down some time in the twelfth century, we -live in a world of enchantment and fairies. Those -tales are full of gold—the gold of a wondrous -imagination. It would be nice if we could keep -this door, over which is written <i>Welsh</i>, open long -enough so that I might tell you the story of -Pryderi, too, and how Pryderi found a castle -where no castle had ever been, how he entered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -it and saw "In the center of the castle floor ... -a fountain with marble-work around it, and on -the margin of the fountain a golden bowl on a -marble slab, and chains hanging from the air, -to which he saw no end." What happened to -him when he seized this cup, how the castle faded -away, how the heroes of the story were changed -to mice—for none of this can we hold open the -golden door any longer. The ends of the golden -chains of many a story are not to be seen by us.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2><a name="III" id="III">III</a><br /><br /> - -<small>THE BATTLE AT THE FORD</small></h2> - - -<p>It is interesting to think, is it not, that if it -had not been for those two little Celtic doors -of gold over one of which was written <i>Cymric</i>, -or <i>Welsh</i>, and over the other, <i>Gaelic</i>, or <i>Irish</i>, -our Great Palace of English Literature could not -have been the same palace, nor half so beautiful. -It is not only that there would not have been so -many wonderful golden doors leading into story-land, -but the stories themselves would not have -been told in the same way. The Scotch, too, who -belong to the Celtic family, are almost as great -story-tellers as the Welsh and Irish.</p> - -<p>When the Roman Tacitus wrote about the -Welsh and Irish he said, "Their language differs -little." And even their buildings, Cæsar said, -were "almost similar." What was true of their -speech and their buildings was more true of the -gifts they have left in the Great Palace. They -have the same delightful way of telling a story;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -what they have to say naturally falls into conversations, -and they are quick as a wink in the -wit and fun and beauty and sadness of what -they do say.</p> - -<p>This little golden door and the wonderful room -beyond it were, perhaps, longer in being built -than the Welsh. These stories and poems of the -Irish were composed at the time of Cæsar and the -Christian era. The epic cycle of Conchubar and -Cuchulain is the first group of tales in Irish literature. -They are made up of prose with occasional -verses here and there. The Irish are very clever -at invention, and these stories are among the -most wonderful ever written or sung. Among the -best of these stories is one we shall open a door -to listen to—the story of Ferdiad and Cuchulain -in "The Battle at the Ford."</p> - -<p>The dialogue in "The Battle at the Ford" shows -us plainly how great the Irish dramatic gift has -always been. They were born makers of plays. -Just see how the Irish genius makes Ferdiad and -Cuchulain talk, and how lifelike they are! The -story is there, not much changed from what it -was two thousand years ago, and shows all the -Irish sense of form. By sense of form is meant -simply the story's way of expressing itself. You -see, a story or poem is like a human being. It has -not only thoughts, but also a body to hold these -thoughts. It is because of these two golden doors, -over which are written the words, <i>Welsh</i>, <i>Irish</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -that English Literature is likely to produce most -of the great plays which will be acted, and most -of the great novels.</p> - -<p>Every Christian and Jewish boy and girl knows -the Bible story of David and Jonathan—that -Jonathan who loved David as his soul, and David -who loved Jonathan more than a brother can -love. This friendship of a king's son with the -son of a shepherd was very beautiful and tender -and pure. "The Battle at the Ford" is not so -gentle a story, but it is, nevertheless, and despite -the treachery of the Queen and the sad end of -Ferdiad, the David and Jonathan story of Irish -Literature.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The men of Ireland settled it that Ferdiad and -Cuchulain should fight the next day. But when -they sent messengers to fetch Ferdiad he would -not come, for he learned that they wanted him -to fight against his friend Cuchulain.</p> - -<p>Then Maeve, the Queen, sent the Druids after -him, who by their hurtful poems about Ferdiad -should raise three blisters on his face—the blisters -of Shame, Blemish, and Reproach.</p> - -<p>So Ferdiad had to come to answer the Queen, -Maeve. She offered him great riches if he would -fight against his friend Cuchulain—speckled -satins and silver and gold, with lands, horses, and -bridles.</p> - -<p>But to Maeve Ferdiad replied, "If you offered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -me land and sea I would not take them without -the sun and moon."</p> - -<p>For he loved his friend Cuchulain so that there -was no wealth which could tempt Ferdiad to go -out against him to wound him.</p> - -<p>"But," said Maeve, "you shall have your fill -of the jewels of the earth. Here is my brooch -with its hooked pin and my daughter, Findabair."</p> - -<p>"Nay," answered Ferdiad, "these things and -all things like unto them shall remain yours, for -there is nothing I would take to go into battle -against my friend Cuchulain. Nothing shall -come between him and me—he who is the half -of my heart without fault, and I the half of his -own heart. By my spear, were Cuchulain killed, -I would be buried in his grave—the one grave for -the two of us! Misfortune on you, Maeve, misfortune -on you for trying to put your face between -us!"</p> - -<p>Then Maeve considered how she should stir -him up and thus get her own ends.</p> - -<p>Aloud she said to her people, "Is it a true word -Cuchulain spoke?"</p> - -<p>"What word was that?" asked Ferdiad, sharply.</p> - -<p>"He said," answered Maeve, "that there would -be no wonder in it did you fall in the first trial -of arms against him."</p> - -<p>Then was Ferdiad angry. "That had Cuchulain -no right to say! If it be true he said this -thing, then will I fight with him to-morrow!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> - -<p>At that Fergus left Ferdiad and Maeve, and -went out in his chariot to tell Cuchulain what -had happened.</p> - -<p>"I give my word," exclaimed Cuchulain, "for -my friend to come against me is not my wish!"</p> - -<p>"Ferdiad's anger is stirred up," said Fergus, -"and he has no fear of you."</p> - -<p>"Be quiet," replied Cuchulain, "for I can -stand against him anywhere!"</p> - -<p>"It will go hard with you getting the better -of him," answered Fergus, "for he has the strength -of a hundred."</p> - -<p>"My word and oath," said Cuchulain, "it is -I who will be victorious over Ferdiad."</p> - -<p>Then went Fergus joyfully back to the encampment. -But Ferdiad, gloomy and heavy-hearted, -slept only through the early part of the night. -Toward the end of night he told his driver to -harness his horses.</p> - -<p>"Ferdiad," said the driver, "it would be better -for you to stop here, for grief will come of that -meeting with Cuchulain."</p> - -<p>Yet the chariot was yoked and they went forward -to the ford, and day and its full light came -upon them there. Then Ferdiad slept while he -waited for the coming of Cuchulain.</p> - -<p>With the full light of day Cuchulain himself -rose up, and said to his driver, "Laeg, yoke the -chariot, for the man who comes to meet us to-day -is an early riser."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> - -<p>"The horses are harnessed," answered Laeg.</p> - -<p>With that Cuchulain leaped into the chariot, -and about him shouted the people of the gods of -Dana, and the witches and the fairies.</p> - -<p>Then Ferdiad's driver heard them coming, the -straining of the harness, the creaking of the -chariot, the ringing of the armor and the shields, -and the thunder of the horses' hoofs.</p> - -<p>"Good Ferdiad," said the driver, laying his -hand upon his master, "rise up. Cuchulain comes, -and he is coming not slowly, but quick as the wind -or as water from a high cliff or like swift thunder."</p> - -<p>And they saw Cuchulain coming, swooping -down on them like a hawk from a cliff on a day -of hard wind. Cuchulain drew up on the north -side of the ford.</p> - -<p>"I am happy at your coming," said Ferdiad.</p> - -<p>"Till this day would I have been glad to hear -that welcome," answered Cuchulain; "but now -it is no longer the welcome of a friend."</p> - -<p>Then each spoke unfriendly words and each -began to boast.</p> - -<p>"Before the setting of the sun to-night," said -Ferdiad, "you will be fighting as with a mountain, -and it is not white that battle will be."</p> - -<p>"You are fallen into a gap of danger," answered -Cuchulain, "and the end of your life has come."</p> - -<p>"Leave off your boasting," shouted Ferdiad, -"you heart of a bird in a cage, you giggling fellow."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> - -<p>But to this Cuchulain replied, "You were my -heart companion, you were my people, you were -my family—I never found one who was dearer."</p> - -<p>"What is the use of this talk?" asked Ferdiad.</p> - -<p>"Good Ferdiad," answered Cuchulain, "it is -not right for you to come out against me through -the meddling of Maeve. Do not break your oath -not to fight with me. Do not break friendship. -We were heart companions, comrades, and sharing -one bed."</p> - -<p>And Ferdiad answered: "Do not be remembering -our companionship, for it will not protect you -this day. It is I will give you your first wounds."</p> - -<p>Then began they with their casting weapons—their -round-handled spears and their little quill -spears and their ivory-hilted knives and their -ivory-hafted spears, and these weapons were flying -to and fro like bees on the wing on a summer's -day. Yet good as the throwing was, the defense -was better, and neither hurt the other. There -was no cast that did not hit the protecting shields, -and by noon their weapons were all blunted -against the faces and bosses of the shields.</p> - -<p>So they left these weapons and took to their -straight spears. And from the middle of midday -till the fall of evening each threw spears at -the other. But good as the defense was, in that -time each wounded the other.</p> - -<p>"Let us leave this, now," said Ferdiad.</p> - -<p>Then each came to the other and put his hands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -around the neck of the other and gave him three -kisses. And that night one inclosure held their -horses and at one fire sat their chariot-drivers. -And of every healing herb that was put on Cuchulain's -wounds Cuchulain sent an equal share -westward across the ford for the wounds of Ferdiad. -And of food and drink Ferdiad sent a fair -share northward to Cuchulain and his men.</p> - -<p>And in the morning they rose up and came to -the ford of battle.</p> - -<p>"What weapons shall we use to-day?" asked -Cuchulain.</p> - -<p>"To-day is your choice, for I made the choice -yesterday," answered Ferdiad.</p> - -<p>"Then let us take our great broad spears, for -so by the end of evening shall we be nearer the -end of the fight."</p> - -<p>From the twilight of the early morning till the -fall of evening each cut at and wounded the other, -till, were it the custom of birds in their flight to -pass through the bodies of men, they might have -done so on this day.</p> - -<p>"Let us stop from this, now," said Cuchulain, -"for our horses and men are tired and down-hearted. -Let us put the quarrel away for a -while."</p> - -<p>So they threw their spears into the hands of -their chariot-drivers, and each put his hand -around the neck of the other and gave him three -kisses. And that night they slept on wounded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -men's pillows their chariot-drivers had made for -them. A full share of every charm and spell used -to cure the wounds of Cuchulain was sent to -Ferdiad. And of food Ferdiad sent a share.</p> - -<p>Again early on the morrow they came to the -ford of battle, and there was a dark look on Ferdiad -that day.</p> - -<p>"It is bad you are looking to-day," said Cuchulain.</p> - -<p>"It is not from fear or dread of you I am looking -this way," answered Ferdiad.</p> - -<p>"No one has ever put food to his lips, Ferdiad, -and no one has ever been born for whose sake I -would have hurt you."</p> - -<p>"Cuchulain," cried Ferdiad, "it was not you, -but Maeve, who has betrayed us, and now my -word and my name will be worth nothing if I -go back without doing battle with you."</p> - -<p>And that day they fought with their swords, -and each hacked at the other from dawn till -evening. When they threw their swords from -them into the hands of their chariot-drivers, their -parting that night was sad and down-hearted.</p> - -<p>Early the next morning Ferdiad rose up and -went by himself to the ford, and there clad himself -in his shirt of striped silk with its border of -speckled gold, over that a coat of brown leather, -and on his head a crested helmet of battle. Taking -his strong spear in his right hand and sword -in his left, he began to show off very cunningly, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>wonderful feats that were made up that day by -himself against Cuchulain.</p> - - - -<p><a name="i045"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%" > -<img src="images/045.jpg" alt="" style="width: 80%" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="center">KINGS IN ARMOR<br /> -<i>MS. Camb. Univ. Libr. Ee. iii. 59</i><br /> -C. A.D. 1245</p> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<p>But when Cuchulain came to the ford, it was -his turn to choose the weapons for the day. And -they fought all the morning. By midday the -anger of each was hot upon him, and Cuchulain -leaped up onto the bosses of Ferdiad's shield, but -Ferdiad tossed him from him like a bird on the -brink of the ford, or as foam is thrown from a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>wave. Then did Cuchulain leap with the quickness -of the wind and the lightness of a swallow, -and lit on the boss of Ferdiad's shield. But Ferdiad -shook his shield and cast Cuchulain from him. -Cuchulain's anger came on him like flame; and -so close was the fight that their shields were -broken and loosened, that their spears were bent -from their points to their hilts; and so close was -the fight that they drove the river from its bed, -and that their horses broke away in fear and -madness.</p> - -<p>Then Ferdiad gave Cuchulain a stroke of the -sword and hid it in his body. And Cuchulain -took his spear, Gae Bulg, cast it at Ferdiad, and -it passed through his body so that the point -could be seen.</p> - -<p>"O Cuchulain," cried Ferdiad, when Gae -Bulg pierced him, "it was not right that I should -fall by your hand! My end is come, my ribs will -not hold my heart. I have not done well in the -battle."</p> - -<p>Then Cuchulain ran toward him and put his -two arms about him, and laid him by the ford -northward. And he began to keen and lament: -"What are joy and shouting to me now? It -is to madness I am driven after the thing I have -done. O Ferdiad, there will never be born among -the men of Connaught who will do deeds equal to -yours!</p> - -<p>"O Ferdiad, you were betrayed to your death! -You to die, I to be living. Our parting for ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -is a grief for ever! We gave our word that to the -end of time we would not go against each other.</p> - -<p>"Dear to me was your beautiful ruddiness, dear -to me your comely form, dear to me your clear -gray eye, dear your wisdom and your talk, and dear -to me our friendship!</p> - -<p>"It was not right you to fall by my hand; it -was not a friendly ending. My grief! I loved -the friend to whom I have given a drink of red -blood. O Ferdiad, this thing will hang over me -for ever! Yesterday you were strong as a mountain. -And now there is nothing but a shadow!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="IV" id="IV">IV</a><br /><br /> - -<small>CÆDMON THE COWHERD</small></h2> - - -<p>A very great modern poet, Coleridge, who -wrote "The Ancient Mariner," said that -prose was words in their best order, but that -<i>poetry was the best words in their best order</i>. This -is a simple and good definition of poetry. Yet -there is even more than best words in their best -order in the room beyond the door over which -is written <i>Poetry</i>. Perhaps, however, beautiful -words in their best order would always teach us -to find what is beautiful and to love the good. I -do not know. Do you?</p> - -<p>Cædmon's poem, written about 670, marks the -beginning of English poetry in Great Britain, for -"Beowulf" was first sung in another land—the -land of the conquerors of England—before it was -brought to British soil. The verses of Cædmon's -poetry are as stormy as the sea which beats at -the bottom of the cliffs of Whitby, on which rose -the monastery of Streoneshalh. Cædmon was at -first a servant in this monastery, but when the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -power to sing came to him it lifted not only -Cædmon himself to something better than he -had been; it has also lifted men and women ever -since to better ways of thinking and feeling and -to greater happiness than they would ever have -had without English poetry. Bede, who wrote -about Cædmon, said, "He did not learn the art -of poetry from men, nor of men, but from God." -Cædmon sang many songs, chiefly songs about -stories in the Bible. Our first poetry was religious. -"Dark and true and tender is the north," and -true and tender is all great English poetry since -that most precious of all the golden doors was -thrown open in the Great Palace of English -Literature.</p> - -<p>Almost more interesting than the stories which -Cædmon resung for the world is the story of the -way the gift of song came to Cædmon.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>One day a little boy stood by a fishing-boat -from which he had just leaped. He dug his toe -in the sand and looked up to the edge of the -rocky cliff above him.</p> - -<p>"What dost see, lad?" said his uncle, who was -tossing his catch of fish to the sand; "creatures -of the mist in the clouds yonder?"</p> - -<p>"Nay, uncle," answered Finan, "there is no -Grendel in the clouds. Last night at the Hall a -man sang to the harp that Grendel was a moor-treader. -Also he told of the deeds of the hero -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>Beowulf, and he said that Beowulf had killed -Grendel."</p> - -<p>Finan's eyes were on the distant moor, which -was the color of flame in the evening light. Already -twinkling above were little stars bright as -the sheen of elves. There, he knew, for everybody -said so, lived elf and giant and monster. -There in the moor pools lived the water-elves. -Across its flame of heather strode mighty march-gangers -like Grendel, and in the dark places of -the mountains lived a dragon, crouched above his -pile of gold and treasure.</p> - -<p>There stood the miraculous tree, of great size, -on which were carved the figures of beasts and -birds and strange letters which told what gods -the heathen worshiped before the gentle religion -of Christ was brought to England. There lived -the Wolf-Man, too, so friendless and wild that he -became the comrade of the wolves which howled -in those dark places. There lived a bear, old and -terrible, and the wild boar rooting up acorns with -his huge curved tusks.</p> - -<p>Nearer the village was the wolf's-head tree—more -terrible tree than any in the mysteries of -forest and fen-land. This was the gallows on -which the village folk hung those who did evil. -Finan could see the tree where it stood alone in -the sunset light. And he heard the rough cawing -of ravens as they settled down into its dark -branches to roost.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Caw, caw," croaked one raven, "ba-a-d man, -ba-ad man."</p> - -<p>"Caw, caw," sang another raven, "ba-ad."</p> - -<p>Then they flapped their wings and settled to -their sleep.</p> - -<p>"Uncle," Finan said, "I will go up the cliffside."</p> - -<p>The fisherman looked up. He heard the chanting -from the church, and saw an immense white -cross upright on the cliff's edge. But he knew -not of what adventure little Finan was thinking.</p> - -<p>"Aye," he said, "go. Perhaps you will see the -blessed Hild."</p> - -<p>So it came about that little Finan climbed the -cliff on that evening which was to prove a night -wonderful in its miracle. There was born that -night that which, like the love of Christ, has made -children's lives better and happier.</p> - -<p>Finan reached the top of the cliff by those -steps which were cut into it, and then took the -main road, paved and straight, which led toward -the Great Hall. He went along slowly under -the apple-trees. He saw a black-haired Welsh -woman draw water. Little children not so big -as Finan were sitting on the steps by their mothers, -who were spinning in their doorways. He passed -a dog gnawing a bone flung to it for its supper.</p> - -<p>A cobbler, laying by his tools, looking up, saw -Finan and greeted him. A jeweler was fixing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>ornaments on a huge horn he had polished. Carpenters -were leaving a little cottage which they -were building. The road was full of men—swineherds -and cowherds, plowboys and wood-choppers -from the forests beyond, gardeners and shepherds—all -on their way to the Great Hall. Some men -there were in armor, too, their long hair floating -over their shoulders.</p> - -<p>Inside the windows, which in those days contained -no window-glass, torches and firelight -would soon begin to flame, and mead would be -passed. Already a loud horn was calling all who -would to come.</p> - -<p>Suddenly something sharp stabbed Finan, and -he cried out.</p> - -<p>A man, a woman, and a little child came rushing -from one of the household yards, flapping -their garments and screaming: "The bees! The -bees!"</p> - -<p>They had just found their precious hive empty. -The bees had swarmed, and unless they could -find them there would be no more sweet-smelling -mead made from honey in that household that -year.</p> - -<p>Another bee stung Finan. And there they were -clinging to a low apple bough just above his -head. They hung in a great cluster, like a bunch -of dark grapes.</p> - -<p>"Dame," said a cowherd, who was in the road, -to the people who were crying out for their bees, -"yonder lad knows where the bees are."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> - -<p>Finan rubbed his head and looked up at the -angry, humming swarm.</p> - -<p>"Aye," he said, and laughed.</p> - -<p>"Throw gravel on the swarming bees," called -the cowherd, Cædmon.</p> - -<p>The man and woman and Finan took handfuls -of gravel from the roadside and flung them over -the bees, and sang again and again, "Never to -the wood, fly ye wildly more!"</p> - -<p>Then they laughed, and the bees swarmed.</p> - -<p>"Now," said Cædmon, who was a wise cowherd, -"hang veneria on the hive, and if ye would -have them safe lay on the hive a plant of madder. -Then can naught lure them away."</p> - -<p>When they reached the Hall folk were already -eating inside. Little Finan saw Cædmon go in -quietly, for Cædmon was attached to the Abbess -Hild's monastery and had a right to go in and -eat. Inside they were singing for the sake of -mirth, and the torches and firelight were flaming.</p> - -<p>Through the open window—for windows were -always open then, and the word window meant -literally "wind-eye"—Finan saw the harp being -passed from one to another.</p> - -<p>They sang many songs as the harp passed from -hand to hand, songs of war and songs of home.</p> - -<p>But when the harp was passed to Cædmon, -who had charmed the bees, he shook his head -sorrowfully, saying that he could not sing, and -got up sad and ashamed and went out.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> - -<p>Little Finan wanted to shout through the window -to him to sing about the bees. He did not -dare, for he was afraid of being discovered. Instead -he followed behind Cædmon. He wished -to ask him why he could not sing. This he did -not dare to do, either, but he went on to the fold -where the cowherd had gone to care for the -cattle. And there on the edge of the fold the little -boy, unseen by the cowherd, fell asleep. Shortly -afterward Cædmon, too, fell asleep.</p> - -<p>It must have been near the middle of the night -when the stars one and all were shining and dancing -with the sheen of millions and millions of -elves, and the sea down below the cliff was singing -a mighty lullabye, that little Finan started -wide awake, hearing a voice speak.</p> - -<p>"Cædmon," spoke a man who stood beside the -sleeping cowherd, "sing me something."</p> - -<p>Cædmon drowsily answered: "I cannot sing anything. -Therefore went I away from the mirth and -came here, for I know not how to sing."</p> - -<p>Again the mysterious stranger spoke. "Yet -you could sing."</p> - -<p>And Finan heard the sleep-bound voice of -Cædmon ask, "What shall I sing?"</p> - -<p>"Sing to me," said the stranger, "the beginning -of all things."</p> - -<p>And at once Cædmon began to sing in a strong -voice, and very beautifully, the praise of God -who made this world. And his song had all the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>beat of sea waves in it—sometimes little waves -that lapped gently on the shore and bore in beautiful -shells and jeweled seaweed. But more often -its rhythm was as mighty as ocean waves that -tossed big ships.</p> - -<p>Then the wandering stranger, hearing the -beauty of the song, vanished. Cædmon awoke -from his sleep, and he remembered all that he had -sung and the vision that had come to him. And -he was glad. He arose and went to the Abbess -Hild to tell her what had happened to him, the -least of her servants.</p> - -<p>In the presence of many wise men did Hild -bid Cædmon tell his dream and sing his verses. -And he did as he was told, and it was plain to -all that an angel had visited Cædmon. The -Abbess Hild took him into the monastery, and -she ordered that everything be done for him. -And Cædmon became the first and one of the -greatest of English poets. And even as Christ -was born in a manger in Bethlehem, English poetry -was born in a cattle-fold in a town which was -called Streoneshalh, which means "Bay of the -Beacon." And to mankind since Cædmon, the -first English poet, English song has been a beacon -to all the world.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>If you open a book written in the English of -to-day, it is easy to read it—just as easy as to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>understand the speech we use among one another. -But the English of fifteen or sixteen hundred -years ago would be difficult to read. There -is an illustration of this English in a line from -"Deor's Lament":</p> - - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">Thas ofer eode, thisses swa maeg.</span> - </div> -</div> - -<p>It is easy to pick this out word for word, and see -that it means, "That was overcome (or overpassed), -so may this be." The English in that -Great Palace, some of whose doors are more than -twelve hundred years old, is the same English, -just as the oak-tree two hundred years old is the -same oak-tree, though different, that it was when -planted. But you would find it difficult to read -the English in which Cædmon wrote his great -poems.</p> - -<p>Old English poetry, too, seems as different -from the poetry of to-day as the language we speak -seems different from the language they used to -speak. For one thing, old English poetry did -not have rhymes.</p> - - - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i4">Little lamb, who made thee?</span> - <span class="i4">Dost thou know who made thee,</span> - <span class="i0">Gave thee life and bade thee feed</span> - <span class="i0">By the stream and o'er the mead;</span> - <span class="i0">Gave thee clothing of delight,</span> - <span class="i0">Softest clothing, woolly, bright;</span> - <span class="i0">Gave thee such a tender voice,</span> - <span class="i0">Making all the vales rejoice?</span> - <span class="i4">Little lamb, who made thee?</span> - <span class="i4">Dost thou know who made thee?</span> - </div> -</div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> -<p>This poem was written somewhat over a hundred -years ago by William Blake, but it is modern and -part of that brightest and most beautiful room of -all English poetry—Nineteenth Century Poetry. -What is a rhyme? You can tell if you will study -this stanza from "The Lamb." You will see -that "thee" of the first line rhymes with "thee" -of the second, that "feed" and "mead" rhyme, -and that "delight" and "bright" rhyme just as -"voice" and "rejoice." Old English poetry was -different, too, in that it did not count the syllables -in a line of poetry. If you drum on the table and -count the syllables of the first and second lines, -you will see that each has six, and the following -six lines have seven syllables each, and the last -two six each. Then if you drum a little more -you will see that each of the first two lines has -three accents or stresses, and the following six -four accents or stresses each.</p> - -<p>Then, you ask, what was this old English poetry -like? Even if the syllables were not counted -and there was no rhyme, it had accents just as -our modern poetry has. Every line was divided -into half verses by a pause, as, for example:</p> - - - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">Warriors of winters young with words spake.</span> - </div> -</div> - - - -<p>There are two accented syllables in the first half -of this line, and one in the second. And now, instead -of rhyme, what do you think the old English<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -poetry had? Alliteration. That is a big word, -but it is not nearly so difficult as it seems, for it -means simply the repetition of the same letter at -the beginning of two or more words. Here it is, -the letter "w" that is repeated. It was poetry -with alliteration and stress which little Finan -heard on that night so long ago when the angel -came to Cædmon and commanded him to sing.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="V" id="V">V</a><br /><br /> - -<small>THE SHEPHERD OF LAUDERDALE</small></h2> - - -<p>After Cædmon's day there were more and -more religious poets. Very often the men who -wrote the poetry and prose during the time of -Cædmon and of Cuthbert lived in monasteries, -where the life was a religious life. In the Great -Palace of English Literature there is a pretty -story told about Ealdhelm, who was a young man -when Cædmon died. This young man later became -the Abbot of Malmesbury. He was not -only a religious poet, but he also made songs and -could sing them to music. He traveled from town -to town, and, finding that the men at the fairs did -not come to church as they should, he would stand -on the bridge and sing songs to them in the English -tongue, persuading them thus to come to hear -the word of God. Living at this same time—that -is, during the latter half of the seventh century—was -St. Cuthbert, not so great a scholar as Ealdhelm, -but as great a wanderer.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There is a little valley between England and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>Scotland called Lauderdale—a little valley watered -by a river which flows into the Tweed. -There Cuthbert did not keep the flocks of his -father as did David, yet, like David, he was a -warrior lad. Day and night Cuthbert lived in -the open, shepherding the sheep of many masters.</p> - -<p>There was not among the lads of that time -a boy more active, more daring than Cuthbert. -He could walk on his hands, turn somersaults, -fight boldly, and become a victor in almost every -race. There was no other boy so active but that -Cuthbert was better at games and sports. And -when all the others were tired he would ask -whether there was not some one who could go on -playing. Then suddenly a swelling came on his -knee and the poor little boy could play no longer, -and had to be carried in and out, up and down, by -attendants. This continued until one day a horseman, -clothed in white garments and riding a horse -of incomparable beauty, appeared before the sick -boy and cured his knee. Little Cuthbert was now -able to walk about once more, but never again did -he play the games he used to play.</p> - -<p>Not far from where Cuthbert lived was the -monastery of Tiningham, by the mouth of the -river Tyne. Some of the monks were bringing -down on rafts wood which they had spent a long -time felling and sawing up. They were almost -opposite the monastery and were just about to -draw the wood to the shore, when a great wind -came up from the west and drove the rafts out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -toward the sea. There were five of them, and so -quickly did they drift away that it was not more -than a few minutes before they began to look in -the distance as small as five little birds. Those -upon the rafts were in much danger of losing their -lives. Those in the monastery came out and -prayed upon the shore for them. But the five -rafts that now looked like the tiniest of birds -went on drifting out to sea. And the populace, -which had been heathens very lately, began to -jest at the monks because their prayers were in -vain.</p> - -<p>Then said Cuthbert: "Friends, you do wrong -to speak evil of those you see hurried away to -death. Would it not be better to pray for their -safety?"</p> - -<p>"No!" shouted the people, angrily. "They took -away our old worship, and you can see that nothing -comes of the new."</p> - -<p>At this the young Cuthbert began to pray, -bowing his head to the ground. And the winds -were turned around and brought the rafts in -safety to the shore of the monastery.</p> - -<p>Like David, this boy Cuthbert was very near -to God, and one night, while keeping the sheep -of his masters, he saw angels descending from -heaven. Cuthbert was on a remote mountain -with other shepherds, and keeping not only his -sheep, but also the vigil of prayer, when a light -streamed down from heaven and broke the thick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> -darkness. Then Cuthbert made up his mind to -serve God by entering a monastery.</p> - -<p>One day he was on a journey on horseback -when he was not quite fifteen years old. He -turned aside to the farmstead which he saw at -some distance, and entered the house of a very -good woman. He wanted to rest himself. But -even more he wanted to get food for his horse. -The woman urged him to let her prepare dinner -for him. But Cuthbert would not eat, for it was -a fast-day.</p> - -<p>"Consider," said the woman, "that on your -journey you will find no village nor habitation of -man; for indeed a long journey is before you, -nor can you possibly accomplish it before sunset. -Wherefore, I beg of you to take some food before -setting out, lest you be obliged to fast all day, or -perhaps even until to-morrow."</p> - -<p>But Cuthbert would not break his fast. Night -came on and he saw that he could not finish his -journey, and there was no house anywhere in -which to take shelter. As he went on, however, -he noticed some shepherds' huts which had been -roughly thrown together in the summer. He entered -one of these to pass the night there, tied -his horse to the wall, and set before the horse a -bundle of hay to eat. Suddenly Cuthbert noticed -that his horse was raising his head and pulling -at the thatching of the hut. And as the horse -drew the thatch down there fell out also a folded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> -napkin. In the napkin was wrapped the half of -a loaf of bread, yet warm, and a piece of meat—enough -for Cuthbert's supper.</p> - -<p>At last, followed by his squire, and with his -lance in hand, the youthful shepherd-warrior, -then but fifteen years old, appeared before the -gates of the monastery of Melrose. For Cuthbert -had decided to serve God in a religious life -rather than upon the battle-field.</p> - -<p>There was not a village so far away, or a mountain -so steep, or a cottage so poverty-stricken, but -that the boy Cuthbert, strong and energetic, -visited it. Most often he traveled on horseback; -but there were places so rough and wild they were -not to be reached on horseback. These places -along the coast he visited in a boat. Cuthbert -thought nothing of hunger and thirst and cold. -From the Solway to the Forth he covered Scotland -with his pilgrimages. This, of course, was -in the seventh century—a long time ago—yet -stories are still told there of the wonderful work -of Cuthbert.</p> - -<p>While he was young in the life of the monastery -it was Cuthbert's good fortune to entertain an -angel unawares, as, perhaps, we all do sometimes. -At the monastery Cuthbert, so pleasant and winning -were his manners, was appointed guest-master. -Going out one morning from the inner -buildings of the monastery to the guest-chamber, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>he found a young man seated there. He welcomed -him with the usual forms of kindness, gave -him water to wash his hands, himself bathed his -feet and wiped them with a towel and warmed -them. He begged the young man not to go forward -on his journey until the third hour, when he -might have breakfast. He thought the stranger -must have been wearied by the night journey and -the snow. But the stranger was very unwilling -to stay until Cuthbert urged him in the Divine -Name. Immediately after the prayers of tierce—or -the third hour—were said, Cuthbert laid the -table and offered the stranger food.</p> - -<p>"Refresh thyself, master, until I return with -some new bread, for I expect it is ready baked -by this time."</p> - -<p>But when he returned the guest whom he had -left at the table had gone. Although a recent -snowfall had covered the ground, and Cuthbert -looked for his footprints, none were to be found. -On entering the room again, there came to him -a very sweet odor, and he saw lying beside him -three loaves of bread, warm and of unwonted -whiteness and beauty.</p> - -<p>"Lo," said Cuthbert, "this was an angel of -God who came to feed and not to be fed. These -are such loaves as the earth cannot produce, for -they surpass lilies in whiteness, roses in smell, and -honey in flavor."</p> - -<p>By all human beings and creatures was Cuthbert -beloved. He usually spent the greater part<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> -of the night in prayer. One night one of the -brothers of the monastery followed him to find -out where he went when he left the monastery. -St. Cuthbert went out to the shore and entered -the cold water of the sea till it was up to his arms -and neck. And there in praises, with the sound -of the waves in his ears, he spent the night. -When dawn was drawing near he came out of the -water and finished his prayer upon the shore. -While he was doing this two seals came from out -of the depths of the sea, warmed his feet with -their breath and dried them with their hair. -And when Cuthbert's feet were warm and dry -he stood up and blessed the seals and sent them -back into the sea, wherein these humble creatures -swam about praising God.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="VI" id="VI">VI</a><br /><br /> - -<small>THE BOY WHO WON A PRIZE</small></h2> - - -<p>You know what sort of stories Bede was fond -of telling—of course in Latin. If you should -be asked with whom English prose began, I think -it would be safe to say, "With Bede, who wrote -the life of St. Cuthbert and the Ecclesiastical -History." But that is not why you should say -that Bede began English prose, but because at -his death he was busy finishing a book written in -English and called <i>Translation of the Gospel of -St. John</i>.</p> - -<p>When his last day came the good old man called -all his scholars about him.</p> - -<p>"There is still a chapter wanting," said the -youth who always took down all of Bede's dictation, -"and it is hard for thee to question thyself -longer."</p> - -<p>"It is easily done," answered Bede; "take thy -pen and write quickly."</p> - -<p>And all day long they wrote.</p> - -<p>When twilight came the boy cried out, "There -is still one sentence unwritten, dear master."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Write it quickly," answered the master.</p> - -<p>"It is finished now," said the boy.</p> - -<p>"Thou sayest truth," came the answer, "all is -finished now."</p> - -<p>Singing the praise of God, his scholars and the -boy scribe about him, he died. Alas that this -English book that he bravely finished has been -lost!</p> - -<p>Bede was born about 673 and lived most of his -life in the monastery at Jarrow in Northumbria -in the north of England. With Bede's death the -home of English prose literature was changed -from the north to the south, from Northumbria -to Wessex, where there lived a noble boy called -Alfred. Asser, the man who was his secretary -after the boy grew up, has written a life of Alfred.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>From the very first this little boy was full of -promise and very attractive. This fact is rather -hard on some of us, is it not, who find it difficult -to be good and to win the confidence of grown-up -people. But the confidence of others is precisely -what the boy Alfred did win, and it was -not because he was a molly-coddle, for no young -prince ever swung a battle-ax more lustily than -did Alfred.</p> - -<p>When he was a little bit of a chap only five -years old, he was taken to Rome to see the Pope. -Alfred was born in 849 at the town of Wantage, -so you know what year it was when he went to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> -Rome. The Pope took a great fancy to him and -hallowed him as his "bishop's son." Just how -old this charming boy was when he began to read -we do not know. At that time, of course, all -boys read Latin, for there were no English books -to read. But there is an old English couplet—a -couplet is two lines of verse with a rhyme at the -end of each line—which may tell the story of -Alfred's reading:</p> - - - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">At writing he was good enough, and yet as he telleth me,</span> - <span class="i0">He was more than ten years old ere he knew his A B C.</span> - </div> -</div> - - - -<p>Alfred may have been younger or older than -this. We don't know, and the probability is that -we never shall know. This little boy was much -loved by his father, King Ethelwulf, and his -mother, Queen Osburh. He had many brothers -and sisters, and was himself the fifth child. But -he was a finer-looking boy than the others, and -more graceful in his way of speaking and in his -manners.</p> - -<p>From the time that he was a tiny child he loved -to know things. And yet his parents and nurses -allowed him to remain untaught in reading and -writing until he was quite a big boy. But at -night, when the gleemen sang songs to the harp -in the royal villa, Alfred listened attentively. -He had memorized very early some splendid old -English songs, such as "Beowulf." He knew all -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>about Grendel, and all about the death of the warrior -Beowulf after his battle with the dragon. -And he had listened to gentler songs, like the one -of the cowherd, Cædmon. He listened to the -singing of poems which were full of the sea and -full of war. Saints, warriors, and pirates were -the chief heroes. A Roman poet, thinking of the -warriors and pirates, called the English people -"sea wolves." All their poetry was full of the sea, -and it is still true that the English love the sea.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>But you must not think of these people, in the -midst of whom Alfred was born, as just warriors. -They loved their homes, and their poetry is full -of love for their families and for the dear old home-place, -wherever it happened to be. Besides home-loving -poetry, the gleemen sang many religious -poems to which the little Alfred listened. Among -them was the story of Cædmon, as I have said. -We hear, too, of warrior saints, good men who did -not go out to slay a fire-spewing dragon lying on -a heap of gold, as did Beowulf, but who taught -them how to fight the dragon of evil which lurks -somewhere near or within us all the time.</p> - -<p>It is this sort of golden and every-day victory -that not only Cædmon, the cowherd, sings, -but also Cynewulf, who lived during the last -half of the eighth century. Cynewulf was a -minstrel at the court of one of the Northumbrian -kings—just such a minstrel or gleeman as Alfred -sometimes listened to on many a night when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> -was committing to memory some stirring or beautiful -Anglo-Saxon poem. This poet-singer loved -the sea with all his heart, and his poetry is full of -this love. And in our own day, eleven centuries -later, Tennyson wrote poems in their spirit not -unlike Old English poems. There is one called -"The Sailor Boy" which resembles an Anglo-Saxon -poem called "The Seafarer." It is a spirited -little poem and begins:</p> - - - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">He rose at dawn and, fired with hope,</span> - <span class="i2">Shot o'er the sultry harbour-bar,</span> - <span class="i0">And reached the ship and caught the rope,</span> - <span class="i2">And whistled to the morning star.</span> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">God help me! save I take my part</span> - <span class="i2">Of danger on the roaring sea,</span> - <span class="i0">A devil rises in my heart,</span> - <span class="i2">Far worse than any death to me.</span> - </div> -</div> - - -<p>That devil is, of course, the devil of idleness, of -uselessness. These stanzas are worth memorizing. -You can see the spirit of a poet sometimes has a -very long life. Here is one of the Old English -riddles:</p> - - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">On the sand I stayed, by the sea-wall near,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">All beside the surge-inflowing! Firm I sojourned there,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Where I first was fastened. Only few of men<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Watched among the waste where I wonned on the earth.<br /></span> - <span class="i0">But the brown-backed billow, at each break of day,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">With its water-arms enwrapt me! Little weened I then,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">That I e'er should speak, in the after-days,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Mouthless o'er the mead-bench....<br /></span> - </div> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> -<p>What do you think that meant? A reed flute—a -little flute on which one played a song.</p> - -<p>When Christianity came to England, as it did -in 597 with St. Augustine, almost three hundred -years before little Alfred was born, it made men -care less for warfare and more for Christ. It is -difficult to do what Christ told us to do—love one -another, and at the same time fight one another. -And that we should love one another was the great -new message of Christianity. Christ was in men's -minds, however, in those olden days, not only our -gentle Saviour, but also a hero who went forth -to war.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Alfred knew all about warfare, but it was not -for warfare that this gentle boy and brave man -cared most. One day his noble mother, Osburh, -showed him and his brothers a book of poetry -written in English.</p> - -<p>"Whichever of you," she said, "shall the soonest -learn this volume shall have it for his own."</p> - -<p>This book was a very beautiful book with an -illuminated letter at the beginning of the volume. -An illuminated letter is usually bright with gold -as well as with other colors. Of course the boy -Alfred wanted this wonderful book.</p> - -<p>He said before all his brothers, who were older -than he, "Will you really give that book to one -of us, that is to say to him who can first understand -and repeat it to you?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes," answered his mother, smiling, and assuring -him that it was so.</p> - -<p>Alfred thereupon took the book from her hand -and went to his master to read it. And it was not -so very long before he had it all by heart. Then -one day he brought the book to his mother and -recited it. And so well did he do that he received -the gift as his mother had promised him he should.</p> - -<p>We have taken a look through the golden door -over which is written <i>Old English Poetry</i>. We -know something of what the boy Alfred learned -from the book his mother gave him.</p> - -<p>By that time he had grown to be a large boy. -When he was still a little boy he had been taken -from his nurses and taught the use of arms and -how to ride. All his training was teaching him -how to be a soldier. Yet there was something for -which Alfred cared even more. All about them -in those days were the Danes, the fiercest of fighting-men. -Government, the gentle religion of -Christ, peace, had been almost dislodged by these -fierce, heathen Danes. Yet in the midst of the -war-filled years of his boyhood and young manhood -Alfred was dreaming of what English books, of -what education in their own tongue, might do for -his people.</p> - -<p>And even in war times they were very busy -just getting things together in order to live. They -had to have food, they had to be warm, they had -to have houses and clothes. In the woods they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -had pigs—wild-looking swine with tusks. In the -fields they had cattle and sheep and chickens. -From the sea they took fish. They made butter -and cheese, ale and mead, candles, leather from -skins, and they wove cloth and silk. They kept -bees, too, as you know from what happened to -little Finan in the story of Cædmon. Besides -all these things they had their carpenter's work, -their blacksmith's, their baker's, hunting, woodcutting, -the making of weapons, and a hundred -and one other employments.</p> - -<p>Still, despite all the warfare and the work, -Alfred, when he became king in 871, had time to -do a great deal for the education of the boys and -girls of those stirring days. The young king wrote -in English and translated from Latin into English -so that the people might have books in their own -tongue. And since Bede's translation of the -Gospel of St. John was lost, Alfred must be called -the true "father of English prose." Just as -Whitby and the stall in which Cædmon saw the -vision and learned how to sing was the cradle -of English poetry, so was Winchester the cradle -of English prose. To accomplish this work the -good king brought scholars from all over the world. -Asser, his secretary and biographer, has compared -Alfred to a most productive bee which flew here -and there asking questions as he went. He made -it possible for every free-born youth to learn to -read and write English perfectly. Indeed, this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -wonderful king made himself into a schoolmaster -and took on the direction of a school in his own -court. He translated from well-known books -into English, among others Bede's <i>History</i> and -Pope Gregory's <i>Pastoral Care</i>. Although he freed -his people from the fierce Danes, through his love -for a book he did more for his own times and for -all times—more, almost, than any other English -boy has ever grown up to do.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="VII" id="VII">VII</a><br /><br /> - -<small>A FISHERMAN'S BOY</small></h2> - - -<p>When we say that we are English-speaking, it -seems as if it were not necessary to say more -than that. But the more we wander about in the -Great Palace of English Literature opening golden -doors, the more do we realize that we cannot say -that this palace was built by English hands alone. -No, the men who built it were not only English, -they were, as you know already, Welsh, Irish, -Scotch. Indeed, the very word "English" was -brought to England by an invader, just as the -word "America" was brought to the North American -continent by a discoverer. Not only was this -Palace of English Literature built by those who -were Welsh, Irish, and Scotch, as well as English, -but also by Danes and Normans.</p> - -<p>The English came to Britain in 449. About -three hundred and fifty years later (790) the Danes -began to ravage Northumbria, which you have -come to know through the story of Cædmon the -cowherd. But the Danes were of English stock,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -so to speak, and they neither changed the language -nor altered things in the life of boys and girls and -men and women. After all it was much the same -life after they came as it was before. They brought -with them some stories—just as the English -"Beowulf." Among the Danish-English stories -were "Havelok the Dane" and "King Horn," -both written down about 1280, but told and sung -much before that time.</p> - -<p>In her early days before she became a great -world power, England had many conquerors. Not -only the English and the Danes, but also the Normans -were her conquerors in 1066 under William -the Conqueror. English story-telling, as, for -example, Malory's "Morte d'Arthur," could never -have been the same without the Norman or -French influence. If we pick up a handful of so-called -English words, we shall see that some of -these words are English, others are French, and -still others Latin in their origin. But the Norman -spoke French only for a while in England. -He soon left the speaking and writing -of French for that of English. However, there -are many beautiful words, many strong words, -many words of customs and manners which we -should not find in the Great Palace of English -Literature but for the conquerors who came to -England.</p> - -<p>There are several manuscripts in which the -story of Havelok is found. But the one which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -written in an English dialect shows best how old -the story is.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There was a King whose name was Aethelwold, -whose only heir was a tiny little girl. And -the little girl's name was Goldborough. Alas, the -King found he must die and leave his little girl -fatherless! So he called to him the wisest and -mightiest of his earls. The name of this Earl was -Godrich. And the King made the Earl promise -that he would guard his little girl until she was -twenty years old, and that then he would give her -in marriage to the fairest and strongest man alive.</p> - -<p>But when the Earl Godrich saw how lovely little -Goldborough was going to be, and knew that he -would have to give up the kingdom to her before -long, he was angry, and took her from Winchester -to Dover on the English seacoast and shut little -Goldborough up in a castle so that she could not -get out.</p> - -<p>In Denmark, just about this time, there lived -a King whose name was Birkabeyn who had one -boy and two sweet little girls. He, too, realized -that he had to die. So he called to him his wisest -Earl, a man by the name of Godard, and charged -him to care for his children until Havelok, the boy, -was old enough to rule the land. But this wicked -Earl shut little Swanborow and Helfled up in a -castle and had them killed.</p> - -<p>And Godard was just about to kill Havelok, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>too, when he bethought him he would have somebody -else do this terrible deed. The wicked Earl -sent for a fisherman who would, he knew, do -his will.</p> - -<p>"Grim," said the wicked Earl, "to-morrow I -will make thee rich if thou wilt take this child -and throw him into the sea to-night."</p> - -<p>Grim took the boy Havelok and bound him and -gagged him and took him home in a black bag. -When Grim carried the sack into his cottage, -Dame Leve, his wife, was so frightened that she -dropped the sack her husband had handed to her, -and cracked poor little Havelok's head against a -stone.</p> - -<p>They let the boy lie this way until midnight, -when it would be dark enough for Grim to drown -Havelok in the sea. Leve was just bringing Grim -some clothes that he might put on to go out and -drown the King's son, when they saw a light shining -about the child.</p> - -<p>"What is this light?" cried Dame Leve. "Rise -up, Grim."</p> - -<p>In haste the fisherman rose and they went over -to the child, about whose head shone a clear light, -from whose mouth came rays of light like sunbeams. -It was as if many candles were burning -in that tiny fisherman's hut. They unbound the -boy and they found on his right shoulder a king's -mark, bright and fair like the lights.</p> - -<p>They were overcome by what Godard had done -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>and had almost led them to do. They fell upon -their knees before the little boy and promised to -feed and clothe him. And so they did, and they -were very good to him and kept him from all harm. -But Grim and his wife became frightened, for fear -that Godard would discover that they had not -drowned the child and would hang them. Thereupon -Grim sold all that he had, sheep, cow, horse, -pigs, goat, geese, hens—everything, in short, that -was his. Taking his money, he put his wife, his -three little sons, and two pretty little girls and -Havelok into his fishing-boat and they set sail for -England.</p> - - - -<p><a name="i079"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%" > -<img src="images/079.jpg" alt="" style="width: 80%" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="center">HENRY III. SAILING HOME FROM GASCONY, 1243<br /> -Drawn by Matthew Paris<br /> -<i>MS. Roy. 14 C. vii</i></p> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<p>The north wind blew and drove them down -upon the coast of England near the river Humber, -and there Grim landed, and the place is called<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -Grimsby to this day. Then Grim set himself to -his old occupation of fishing, and he caught -sturgeon, whale, turbot, salmon, seal, porpoise, -mackerel, flounder, plaice, and thornback. And -he and his sons carried the fish about in baskets -and sold them.</p> - -<p>Yet while Grim fed his family well, Havelok -lay at home and did naught. And when Havelok -stopped to think about that, he was ashamed, for -he was a fine, strong boy.</p> - -<p>"Work is no shame," said the King's son to -himself.</p> - -<p>And the next day he carried to market as much -fish as four men could. And every bit of fish did -he sell and brought back the money, keeping not -a farthing for himself. Alas! there came a famine -about this time, and Grim had great fear on Havelok's -account lest the boy starve.</p> - -<p>"Havelok," said Grim, "our meat is long since -gone. For myself it does not matter, but I fear -for thee. Thou knowest how to get to Lincoln, -and there they will give thee a chance to earn thy -food. Since thou art naked, I will make thee a -coat from my sail."</p> - -<p>This he did, and with the coat on and barefoot -the King's son found his way to Lincoln. For two -days the lad had no food. On the third day he -heard some one crying, "Bearing-men, bearing-men, -come here!" Havelok leaped forward to the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>Earl's cook and bore the food to the castle. Another -time he lifted a whole cart-load of fish and -bore it to the castle.</p> - -<p>The cook looked him over and said: "Wilt thou -work for me? I will feed thee gladly."</p> - -<p>"Feed me," answered Havelok, "and I will -make thy fire burn and wash thy dishes."</p> - -<p>And because Havelok was a strong lad and a -good boy, as all kings' sons are not, he worked -hard from that day forth. He bore all the food -in and carried all the wood and the water, and -worked as hard as if he were a beast. And he was -a merry lad, too, for he knew how to hide his -griefs. And the old story says that all who saw -him loved him, for he was meek and strong and -fair. But still he had nothing but the wretched -coat to wear. So the cook took pity on him and -bought him span-new clothes and gave him stockings -and shoes. And when he had put them on -he looked the King's son he was. At the Lincoln -games he was "like a mast," taller and straighter -than any youth there. In wrestling he overcame -every one. Yet he was known for his gentleness. -Never before had Havelok seen stone-putting, but -when his master told him to try, Havelok threw -the stone twelve feet beyond what any one else -could do.</p> - -<p>The story of the stone-putting was being told -in castle and hall when Earl Godrich heard it, and -said to himself that here was the tallest, strongest, -and fairest man alive, and he would fulfil his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> -promise and get rid of Goldborough, the King's -daughter, by giving her to Havelok, whom he -thought to be just a cook's boy. Now Havelok -did not wish to marry any more than did Goldborough, -but they were forced to. And when -they were married Havelok knew not whither they -could go, for he saw that Godrich hated them and -that their lives were not safe.</p> - -<p>Therefore they went on foot to Grimsby, and -royal was their welcome. Grim, the fisherman, -had died.</p> - -<p>But his five children fell on their knees and -said: "Welcome, dear lord. Stay here and all -is thine."</p> - -<p>And that night as they lay on their bed in the -fisherman's hut, Goldborough discovered, because -of the bright light which came from the mouth of -Havelok, that he was a King's son. And it was -not long after this they all set sail for Denmark, -so that Havelok, with the help of Grim's sons and -many others, might win back the kingdom of -Denmark.</p> - -<p>It was in the house of Bernard Brown, the magistrate -of the Danish town, that sixty strong thieves, -clad in wide sleeves and closed capes, attacked -him. Bernard Brown seized an ax and leaped to -the door to defend his home.</p> - -<p>One of the thieves shouted at him, "We will go -in at this door despite thee."</p> - -<p>And he broke the door asunder with a boulder.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -Whereupon Havelok took the great bar from -across the door. And with the bar he slew several, -yet the thieves had wounded him in many -places, when Grim's sons came upon the scene to -defend their lord and saw the thieves treating -Havelok as a smith does his anvil. Like madmen -the three sons of Grim leaped into the fight, and -they fought until not one of the thieves was left -alive.</p> - -<p>When Earl Ubbe heard of this he rode down to -Bernard Brown's. Then he heard the story of -Havelok's bravery and of the terrible wounds he -had received, so that Bernard Brown feared he -might die because of them.</p> - -<p>"Fetch Havelok quickly," commanded Ubbe. -"If he can be healed, I myself will dub him -knight."</p> - -<p>When a leech saw the wounds of Havelok he -told Ubbe that they could be cured.</p> - -<p>"Come forth now," said Ubbe to Havelok, -"thou and Goldborough and thy three servants."</p> - -<p>And with rejoicing did Ubbe bring them to his -city. And about the middle of the night Ubbe -saw a great light in the tower where Havelok was -sleeping. He peered through a crack and he saw -that the "sunny gleam" came from Havelok's -mouth. It was as if a hundred and seven candles -were burning, and on Havelok's shoulder was a -clear, shining cross.</p> - -<p>"He is Birkabeyn's heir," said Ubbe, "for never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -in Denmark was brother so like to brother as this -fair man is like the dead King."</p> - -<p>And Earl Ubbe and his men fell at Havelok's -feet and awoke him. And very happy was Havelok, -and thankful to God. And then came barons -and warriors and thanes and knights and common -men, and all swore fealty to Havelok. With a -bright sword Ubbe dubbed Havelok knight and -made him King. And the three sons of Grim -were also made knights. Thereat were all men -happy, and they wrestled and played, played the -harp and the pipe, read romances from a book, -and sang old tales. There was every sort of sport -and plenty of food.</p> - -<p>Finally they all, a thousand knights and five -thousand men, set forth that Havelok might take -vengeance on the wicked Earl Godard. There -was a hard fight, but at last they caught and bound -Earl Godard. And he was hung on the gallows -and died there. Such was the end of one who betrayed -his trust.</p> - -<p>The wicked Earl Godrich in England, who had -robbed Goldborough of her kingdom, heard that -Havelok was become King of Denmark and also -that he was come to Grimsby. So he gathered -all his army together and there was a great battle. -And the battle was going against Havelok, when -the wicked hand of Godrich was struck off. After -that Havelok and his men were victorious. Then -did they condemn the Earl Godrich to death.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> -And he was bound to an ass and led through -London and burned at the stake. Such was the -end of one who betrayed his trust.</p> - -<p>And after that Havelok and Goldborough reigned -in England for sixty years. So great was the -love of the King and Queen for each other that -all marveled at it. Neither was happy away from -the other. And never were they angry, for their -love for each other was always new.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII">VIII</a><br /><br /> - -<small>THE WEREWOLF</small></h2> - - -<p>In the Great Palace of English Literature over -one of the golden doors hangs a horn of ivory, -and a sword of which the name is Durendal. -Above that door is written <i>Chanson de Roland</i>, -which means the Song of Roland. Often in the -stillness of the early morning or at dusk the Great -Palace rings faintly with the music from that -ivory horn which belonged to Roland, and which -he sounded for the last time in the Pass of Roncevaux. -Or there is heard the clinking of Durendal -against the stone of the palace walls—no doubt -the wind stirring it where it hangs beside the door -it guards.</p> - -<p>"Chanson de Roland!" You see the story is -French. The Normans brought it with them -when they came to conquer Britain in 1066 under -William of Normandy. Before the soldiers of -William, the minstrel, Taillefer, rode singing of -"Charlemagne, and of Roland, and of Oliver, and -the vassals who fell at Roncevaux."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Roland, comrade," said Oliver, "blow thy -horn of ivory, and Charles shall hear it and bring -hither again his army, and ... succor us."</p> - -<p>"Nay, first will I lay on with Durendal, the -good sword girded at my side."</p> - -<p>"Roland, comrade," urged Oliver, "blow thy -horn of ivory, that Charles may hear it."</p> - -<p>"God forbid that they should say I sounded my -horn for dread of the heathen."</p> - -<p>"Prithee look!" begged Oliver. "They are -close upon us. Thou wouldst not deign to sound -thy horn of ivory. Were the King here we should -suffer no hurt."</p> - -<p>Oliver was wise and Roland was brave, and the -song that the minstrel Taillefer chanted before -the conquering hosts of William of Normandy -was a wonderful, stirring song. No doubt there -flows in English veins to-day much of the courage -of Roland and the wisdom of Oliver. Although -the English continued English, yet for a long time -following the conquest of England by the Normans -songs were sung in French rather than in -English. And ready and witty was all that was -written down in French, for the literature of the -Normans was as brightly colored as a jewel and -not grand and melancholy as was that of the -Anglo-Saxons. "Beowulf" was the battle song -of the Anglo-Saxons, the "Song of Roland" that -of the Normans. Melancholy was the poem of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>"Beowulf." White and clear, stirring and flashing -in the sunshine was the "Chanson de Roland," -even as Roland's beloved sword Durendal, which -is heard clinking against the stone of the Great -Palace of English Literature.</p> - -<p>But "Roland" represented only a fraction of -the story-telling in the French poetry of that time. -The most exquisite and delightful story-teller of -that twelfth century collected and wrote here -charming stories on English soil and dedicated -them to Henry II., who died in 1189. Her -name was Marie de France, and of her lays a -rival poet wrote:</p> - - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">All love them much and hold them dear,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Baron, count and chevalier,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Applaud their form and take delight<br /></span> - <span class="i0">To hear them told by day and night.<br /></span> - <span class="i0">In chief, these tales the ladies please;<br /></span> - <span class="i0">They listen glad their hearts to ease.<br /></span> - </div> -</div> - - -<p>Marie de France's lays are based on British tradition. -There are many of these delightful stories. -Among the most interesting of them is "The -Werewolf."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Once upon a time in the days of King Arthur—for -later there are some lines in Malory's "Morte -d'Arthur" which tells us that this story must -have been true—there lived a man who for part -of the week was a wolf—that is, he had the form -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>and the appetite of a wolf, and was called a werewolf. -But nobody knew that he was a werewolf -for three days in the week. Not even his wife, -whom he loved well and devotedly, knew what -happened to her husband while he was away from -her these three days every week.</p> - -<p>It vexed the wife very much that she did not -know, but she was afraid to question her husband, -lest he be angry. At last one day she did question -him.</p> - -<p>"Ask me no more," replied the husband, "for -if I answered you you would cease to love me."</p> - -<p>Nevertheless she gave him no peace until he -had told her that three days in the week, because -of a spell which was over him, he was forced to -be a werewolf, and that when he felt the change -coming over him he hid himself in the very thickest -part of the forest.</p> - -<p>Then the wife demanded to know what became -of his clothes, and he answered that he laid them -aside. The wife asked where he put them. He -begged her not to ask him, for only the garments -made it possible for him to return to human shape -again. But the wife cried and begged until the -knight, her husband, had told her all.</p> - -<p>"Wife," he said, "inside the forest on a crossroad -is a chapel. Near the chapel under a shrub -is a stone. Beneath the stone is a hole, and in -that hole do I hide my clothes until the enchantment -makes it possible for me to take my human -shape again."</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> -<p>Now the wife was not a good wife. Instead of -trying to help her husband to get free from the -wolf shape he had to assume three days in every -week, thereafter she loathed him and was afraid -of him. And what is worse still, she betrayed him -to another knight. She took this other knight -into her confidence and told him where her husband -hid his clothes when the spell came upon -him and he took the form of a wolf. Thereupon -the knight to whom she had told this dreadful -secret stole the clothes, and they hid them where -the poor wolf could never find them again. After -that these two wicked people were married, while -the poor wolf wandered about in the forest, grieving, -for he had loved his wife well and truly.</p> - -<p>Some time after this the King was hunting one -day in the forest, and his hounds gave chase to a -wolf. At last, when the wretched beast was in -danger of being overtaken by the hounds and torn -into a thousand pieces, he fled to the King, seized -him by the stirrup, and licked his foot submissively.</p> - -<p>The King was astonished. He called his companions, -and they drove off the dogs, for the King -would not have the wolf harmed. But when they -started to leave the forest the wolf followed the -King and would not be driven away. The King -was much pleased, for he had taken a great liking -to the wolf. He therefore made a pet of the lonely -beast, and at night he slept in the King's own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -chamber. All the courtiers came to love the -wolf, too, for he was a gentle wolf and did no one -any harm.</p> - -<p>A long time had passed when one day the King -had occasion to hold a court. His barons came -from far and near, and among them the knight -who had betrayed the werewolf. No sooner did -the wolf see him than he sprang at him to kill -him. And had the King not called the wolf off -he would have torn the false knight to pieces. -Every one was astonished that this gentle beast -should show such rage. But after the court was -over and as time went on they forgot the beast's -savage act.</p> - -<p>At length the King decided to make a tour -throughout his kingdom. And he took the wolf -with him, for that was his custom. Now the -werewolf's false wife heard that the King was -to spend some time in the part of the country -where she lived. So she begged for an audience. -But no sooner did she enter the presence-chamber -than the wolf sprang at her and bit off -her nose.</p> - -<p>The courtiers were going to slay the beast, but -a wise man stayed their weapons.</p> - -<p>"Sire," said the councilor, "we have all caressed -this wolf and he has never done us any harm. -This lady was the wife of a man you held dear, -but of whose fate we none of us know anything. -Take my counsel and make this lady answer your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> -questions, so shall we come to know why the wolf -sprang at her."</p> - -<p>This was done. The false knight who had married -her was brought also, and they told all the -wickedness they had done to the poor wolf. Then -the King caused the wolf's stolen clothes to be -fetched. But the wolf acted as if he did not see -the clothes.</p> - -<p>"Sire," said the councilor, "if this beast is a -werewolf he will not change back into his human -shape until he is alone."</p> - -<p>They left him alone in the King's chamber, and -put the clothes beside him. Then they waited -for a long time. Lo, when they entered the chamber -again, there lay the long-lost knight in a deep -sleep on the King's bed! Quickly did the King -run to him and embrace him, and after that he -restored to him all his lost lands, and he banished -the false wife and her second husband from the -country. And they who were banished lived in a -strange land, and all the girls among their children -and grandchildren were without noses.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>So close we this little golden door—not the less -precious because little—over which is written in -letters all boys and girls should love: <i>Marie de -France</i>, who wrote "The Werewolf."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="IX" id="IX">IX</a><br /><br /> - -<small>AT GEOFFREY'S WINDOW</small></h2> - - -<p>Among all the golden doors in the Great Palace -of English Literature about which we are -coming to know something, and through some of -which we have already passed, there was one -golden window on the stairway of the palace. -This window on the stairway of the palace looked -out upon a busy town and down upon the windings -of the river Wye, and off upon hills and upon the -ruins of a wonderful old abbey called Tintern -Abbey, about which, some six hundred years -later, an English poet called William Wordsworth -was to write a poem called "Tintern Abbey." -Wordsworth wrote "We Are Seven," and also -this little poem about a butterfly:</p> - - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">I've watched you now a full half-hour,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Self-poised upon that yellow flower;<br /></span> - <span class="i0">And, little Butterfly! indeed<br /></span> - <span class="i0">I know not if you sleep or feed.<br /></span> - <span class="i0">How motionless! Not frozen seas<br /></span> - <span class="i0">More motionless! and then<br /></span> - <span class="i0">What joy awaits you, when the breeze<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Hath found you out among the trees<br /></span> - <span class="i0">And calls you forth again.<br /></span> - <span class="i0">This plot of orchard ground is ours;<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> - <span class="i0">My trees they are, my Sister's flowers;<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Here rest your wings when they are weary;<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Here lodge as in a sanctuary!<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Come often to us, fear no wrong;<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Sit near us on the bough!<br /></span> - <span class="i0">We'll talk of sunshine and of song,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">And summer days when we were young;<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Sweet childish days that were as long<br /></span> - <span class="i0">As twenty days are now.<br /></span> - </div> -</div> - - -<p>But the golden window at which Geoffrey sat -was in Monmouth, and he was called Geoffrey -of Monmouth. That was some seven hundred -years ago. No doubt the little town was very -busy even in 1137 when Geoffrey sat at his -window and wrote his famous chronicle called -<i>British History</i>.</p> - -<p>Before Geoffrey began to write down his marvelous -stories, other stories and poems were written. -In King Alfred's time, when the home of -English literature was shifted from the north to -the south, two fine battle songs were written. -They were the "Song of Brunanburh" and the -"Song of the Fight at Maldon." These were -written in the tenth century. "The Charge of -the Light Brigade," composed some eight hundred -years later by the poet Tennyson, is like these old -songs in its short, rapid lines and in its thought. -Every one should learn these lines from the poem -Alfred Tennyson wrote:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> - - -<div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">Half a league, half a league,<br /></span> - <span class="i2">Half a league onward,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">All in the valley of Death<br /></span> - <span class="i2">Rode the six hundred.<br /></span> - <span class="i0">"Forward the Light Brigade!<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Charge for the guns!" he said:<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Into the valley of Death<br /></span> - <span class="i2">Rode the six hundred.<br /></span> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <span class="i0">"Forward the Light Brigade!"<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Was there a man dismayed?<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Not tho' the soldier knew<br /></span> - <span class="i2">Some one had blunder'd:<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Theirs not to make reply,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Theirs not to reason why,<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Theirs but to do and die:<br /></span> - <span class="i0">Into the valley of Death<br /></span> - <span class="i2">Rode the six hundred.<br /></span> - </div> -</div> - - -<p>But we have been long enough away from that -golden window by which Geoffrey of Monmouth -sat and wrote his immortal stories. Geoffrey -was called a chronicler. And what he was supposed -to be doing was jotting down accurately -historical events year after year. Some of the -chronicles written in this way have become the -chief sources of English history. Among the -men who wrote these chronicles were William of -Malmesbury and Matthew Paris. And between -them came Geoffrey himself.</p> - -<p>It will never be known, unless it should prove -possible to roll time back some seven hundred -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>years, just what Geoffrey did see from his window -as he looked out upon the busy town of -Monmouth, or all that went on in his nimble -mind. In any event it is plain that he had the -best of good times inventing or retelling stories -in his chronicle. There is to be found the story -of King Lear and his three daughters, Regan, -Goneril, and Cordelia—Lear, the hero of Shakespeare's -play, "King Lear," written over four hundred -years later. There, too, is the story of Ferrex -and Porrex. Geoffrey had a nimble quill pen -with which to follow his nimble wit. He writes -of Julius Cæsar and of how he came to Great -Britain. What Geoffrey of Monmouth says may -be ridiculous enough in the light of history, but -there it is, and there is Cæsar himself, not only -looking upon the coast of Britain but actually -standing upon it. We become familiar, too, with -many names known in stories about King Arthur. -Perceval is one of these. And Uther Pendragon, -who was the father of King Arthur, is another.</p> - -<p>One of the marvelous facts about Geoffrey is -that when he looked out of that golden window -he could see so much farther than just Monmouth. -He could see all the way to the sea, and on its -shores that beautiful city Tintagel, where Queen -Igraine, the mother of Arthur, lived. But in -Geoffrey's chronicle she was called Igerna. A -name is sometimes like a long, long journey, not -only in its romance, but also because it takes you -to other lands and other people, and passes, even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -as the road upon a long journey, through many -changes.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Geoffrey saw from his golden window not only -Tintagel, that beautiful South Welsh city by the -sea, but also a little village in North Wales called -Beddgelert. This little village is set down in the -midst of mountains like a lump of sugar in the -bottom of a deep cup. Outside this little village -is a hill called Dinas Emrys. Geoffrey looked -northward out of his golden window in Monmouth, -and what do you think he saw? He saw the -magician, Merlin, the youth who had never had -a father. And this lad was quarreling with another -lad in Caernarvon, a Welsh city thirteen -miles away from the little village of Beddgelert.</p> - -<p>Now Vortigern had been attempting to build a -tower on Dinas Emrys, but whatever the workmen -did one day was swallowed up the next.</p> - -<p>Then some wise men said to Vortigern: "You -must find a youth who has never had a father. -You must sacrifice him and sprinkle the foundations -with his blood."</p> - -<p>So Vortigern sent men to find a boy who had -never had a father and who should be brought -him that they might kill him. When Vortigern's -messenger reached Caernarvon, thirteen miles -away from Beddgelert and the hill Dinas Emrys, -they found two boys playing games and quarreling -about their parentage. And one of them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -Dabutius, was accusing the other, Merlin, of having -no father. They took him to Vortigern.</p> - -<p>And Vortigern said, "My magicians told me to -seek out a lad who had no father, with whose -blood the foundations of my building are to be -sprinkled to make it stand."</p> - -<p>"Order your magicians," answered Merlin, "to -come before me and I will convict them of a lie."</p> - -<p>It is a terrible thing to be convicted of a lie, -and of course the magicians did not wish to -come. But King Vortigern made them come and -ordered them to sit down before Merlin.</p> - -<p>Merlin spoke to them after this manner: "Because -you are ignorant what it is that hinders the -foundations of the tower, you have told the King -to kill me and to cement the stones with my -blood. But tell me now, what is there under the -foundations that will not suffer it to stand?"</p> - -<p>To this they gave no answer, for they were -frightened.</p> - -<p>Then said Merlin, "I entreat your Majesty -would command your workmen to dig into the -ground, and you will find a pond which causes -the foundations to sink."</p> - -<p>This the King had done, and a pond was found -there.</p> - -<p>Then said Merlin to the King's magicians, -"Tell me, ye false men, what is there under the -pond?"</p> - -<p>But they were afraid to answer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> - -<p>Merlin turned to King Vortigern and said, -"Command the pond to be drained, and at the -bottom you will see two hollow stones, and in -them are two dragons asleep."</p> - -<p>The King had the pond drained, and he found -all just as Merlin said it would be. And as the -King sat on the edge of the drained pond out came -the two dragons, one red and one white, and, approaching -each other, they began to fight, blowing -forth fire from their nostrils. At last the white -dragon got the advantage and made the red -dragon fly to the other end of the drained pond.</p> - -<p>When King Vortigern asked Merlin to explain -what this meant, Merlin burst into tears.</p> - -<p>Then commanding his voice, he spoke: "In -the days that are to come gold shall be squeezed -from the lily and the nettle, and silver shall flow -from the hoofs of bellowing cattle. The teeth -of wolves shall be blunted and the lion's whelps -shall be transformed into sea-fishes."</p> - -<p>And unto this day nobody knows exactly what -Merlin meant, or what Geoffrey thought he -meant, although there has been much guessing.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Geoffrey must have been very fond of looking -out of his window and seeing Merlin, for many -a story he tells about him. There is the story of -how Merlin helped to remove the stones of the -Giants' Dance from Ireland. Giants of old had -brought them from the farthest coast of Africa.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> -They were mystical stones and had value to heal -and cure men. When these stones were found too -heavy to be lifted by human hands, Merlin found -a way, nevertheless, to lift them. Then the stones -of the Giants' Dance were carried across the sea -and placed in England at Stonehenge. It is an -exciting story Geoffrey tells about the Giants' -Dance, yet I fear we know no more really how the -big stones got to Stonehenge than we know about -the ribs of our solid earth. Certainly those stones -were set up in Stonehenge even before men began -recording history or Geoffrey of Monmouth sat -in his golden window.</p> - -<p>And there is the story of the 40,060 kings who -never existed—which is more almost than ever -did exist. And of the coming of St. Augustine to -England, bringing with him the gentle religion of -Christ.</p> - -<p>It would be very nice if all this about Merlin -and the dragons and the Giants' Dance were -what might be called true history. Alas, it is not! -In the first place, Geoffrey tells stories which vary -greatly from what was actually known to be -history. Then, too, this chronicle is full, as you -have seen, of miraculous stories of one sort or -another. And there are other reasons, also, why -these delightful stories of Geoffrey of Monmouth -must be taken with a pinch of salt.</p> - -<p>But it is because Geoffrey did sit at his window -in the little town of Monmouth, writing these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -stories which have to be taken with a pinch of salt, -that English story-telling began to grow. Geoffrey's -imagination was to English story-telling -what the sunlight is in making a tulip grow. -Story-telling grew out of the Chronicles, the so-called -historical literature. The men of Geoffrey's -time said that "he had lied saucily and -shamelessly." No doubt he had. Yet these -same men could not help reading the stories -he told, for they were so interesting that all men -read them. What he had done was to take several -Welsh legends, put them together cleverly, -as a carpenter joins a delicate bit of woodwork, -translate these Welsh legends into Latin and call -the work a Chronicle. Not only was it read in -England, but it was read all over the continent -of Europe, too. It had great success.</p> - -<p>Geoffrey Gaimer put these stories into French. -The stories traveled to France. Once there, other -legends were added, and when Geoffrey's Chronicle -turned up again in England it came back as the -work of Wace, a Norman trouveur, or ballad-singer. -But Geoffrey's stories were too good to let drop even -after they had been through so many hands. An -English priest in Worcestershire by the name of -Layamon, translating the French poem which -Wace had made out of Geoffrey's prose stories, -retold the stories in English poetry. That was in -1205, after Geoffrey had died.</p> - -<p>Geoffrey of Monmouth must have been very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -happy as he sat in his sunny, golden window and -heard about the tales he had written there. He -must have chuckled many a time over what the -world had made out of his nimble story-telling -wits. English literature could not be at all the -same, in either prose or poetry, if it were not for -that golden palace door over which was written -<i>Welsh</i> or that window upon the stairway where -Geoffrey sat.</p> - -<p>But it was the Normans who brought the taste -for history with them to England in 1066, when -they conquered the land which had been King -Alfred's land. It was some time before the Normans -became what we call English in their feeling. -Probably the Normans would never have become -so strongly English in feeling if English patriotism, -even after the conquest of 1066, had not remained -very much alive. The English had written -down in English some of the proverbs of their -former King Alfred. The parents of the chronicler, -William of Malmesbury, were both English -and Norman. And, strangely enough, Layamon's -"Brut" is not unlike the poetry of the cowherd -Cædmon, the first of the great English singers, -the first of English poets.</p> - -<p>Perhaps this very hour the sun is shining down -upon that golden window of Geoffrey of Monmouth, -and laughing for joy because the man who -"lied so saucily" was the first of the great English -story-tellers.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="X" id="X">X</a><br /><br /> - -<small>A FAMOUS KITCHEN BOY</small></h2> - - -<p>Geoffrey's window is a very fascinating -place to be—possibly the most interesting -window the world has ever seen. It is not just -one lifetime which has found that window interesting, -but more lifetimes than we can count -comfortably. Sir Thomas Malory, who wrote his -<i>Morte d'Arthur</i> in 1469, fairly lived in that window; -so did Shakespeare when he wrote "King -Lear" in 1605, and even the modern poet, Alfred, -Lord Tennyson, who wrote "The Charge of the -Light Brigade," composed a series of poems called -"Idylls of the King," which return for their sources -through Malory to Geoffrey at his window.</p> - -<p>There is one story, however, which Geoffrey did -not see as he looked out of his golden window—the -story of the famous kitchen boy, or "Gareth -and Linet." This tale is found in Sir Thomas -Malory's <i>Morte d'Arthur</i>, which was not completed -until 1469, many years after the writing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>of Geoffrey's Chronicle in 1147. Clear and sunshiny -is the English of this wonderful book of -Malory's, and nowhere in the world can more -beautiful, exciting, and marvelous stories be found -than between the covers of the <i>Morte d'Arthur</i>. -The <i>Morte d'Arthur</i> was written about twenty -years after the invention of printing by Coster -and Gutenberg. Sixteen years after the completion -of the book by Malory, Caxton printed it -in black letter in English. There is only one perfect -copy of this book by Caxton, the first of the -English printers, and that is in Brooklyn, New -York. In the preface which Caxton wrote for -the <i>Morte d'Arthur</i>, he says that in this book -will be found "many joyous and pleasant histories, -and noble and renowned acts of humanity, gentleness -and chivalries.... Do after the good and -leave the evil, and it shall bring you good fame -and renown." Certainly that is what the kitchen -boy did, and it brought him to good fame.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was one day when King Arthur was holding -a Round Table court at Kynke Kenadonne by the -sea. And they were at their meat, three hundred -and fifty knights, when there came into the hall -two men well clad and fine-looking. And, as the -old story says, there leaned upon their shoulders -"the goodliest young man and the fairest that -ever they all saw, and he was large and long and -broad in the shoulders, and well visaged, and the -fairest and the largest-handed that ever man saw, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a><br /></span>but he fared as if he might not go or bear himself—"</p> - - - -<p><a name="i105"></a></p> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 55%" > -<img src="images/105.jpg" alt="" style="width: 80%" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="center">KNIGHT IN ARMOR<br /> -<i>MS. Roy. 2 A. xxii</i><br /> -Late Thirteenth Century</p> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> - - -<p>The two men supported the young man up to -the high dais upon which Arthur was feasting. -When the young man that was being helped forward -was seen there was silence. Then the young -man stretched up straight and besought Arthur -that he would give him three gifts.</p> - -<p>"The first gift I will ask now," he said, "but -the other two gifts I will ask this day twelve -months wheresoever you hold your high feast."</p> - -<p>"Ask," replied Arthur, "and you shall have -your asking."</p> - -<p>"Sir, this is my petition for this feast: that you -will give me meat and drink enough for this twelvemonth, -and at that day I will ask mine other two -gifts."</p> - -<p>"My fair son," said Arthur, "ask better. This -is but simple asking."</p> - -<p>But the young man would ask no more. And -when the King, who had taken a great liking to -him, asked him for his name, the young man said -that he could not tell him.</p> - -<p>The King took him to Sir Kay, the steward, -and charged him to give the young man the best -of all the meats and drinks and to treat him as -a lord's son.</p> - -<p>But Sir Kay was angry, and said: "An he had -come of gentlemen, he would have asked of you -horse and armor, but such as he is, so he asketh.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -And since he hath no name, I shall give him a -name that shall be Beaumains, that is Fair-hands, -and into the kitchen shall I bring him, and there -he shall have fat brose every day, that he shall -be as fat by the twelvemonth's end as a pork -hog."</p> - -<p>And Sir Kay scorned him and mocked at him. -On hearing this both Sir Launcelot, the greatest -of the Knights of the Round Table, and Sir -Gawaine were wroth and bade Sir Kay leave his -mocking.</p> - -<p>"I dare lay my head," said Sir Launcelot, "he -shall prove a man of great worship."</p> - -<p>"It may not be by no reason," replied Sir Kay, -"for as he is so hath he asked."</p> - -<p>Beaumains, or Fair-hands, was put into the -kitchen, and lay there nightly as the boys of the -kitchen did. The old book says: "He endured -all that twelvemonth, and never displeased man -nor child, but always he was meek and mild. But -ever when he saw any jousting of knights, that -would he see an he might."</p> - -<p>Sir Launcelot gave him gold to spend, and -clothes, and whenever the boy went where there -were games or feats of strength he excelled in -them all.</p> - -<p>But always Sir Kay would taunt him with these -words spoken to others, "How like you my boy -of the kitchen?"</p> - -<p>And so Fair-hands, the kitchen boy, continued<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> -in service for a year. At the close of the year -came a lady to the court and told about her sister -who was besieged in a castle by a tyrant who was -called the Red Knight of the Red Laundes. But -she would not tell her name, and therefore the -King would not permit any of his knights to -go with her to rescue her sister from the Red -Knight, who was one of the worst knights in the -world.</p> - -<p>But at the King's refusal, Beaumains, or Fair-hands, -as he was called, spoke, "Sir King, God -thank you, I have been this twelvemonth in your -kitchen, and have had my full sustenance, and -now I will ask my two gifts that be behind."</p> - -<p>"Ask, upon my peril," said the King.</p> - -<p>"Sir, this shall be my two gifts: first, that you -will permit me to go with this maiden that I may -rescue her sister. And second, that Sir Launcelot -shall ride after me and make me knight when I -require it of him."</p> - -<p>And both these requests the King granted. -But the maiden was angry because, she said, he -had given her naught but his kitchen page.</p> - -<p>Then came one to Fair-hands and told him that -his horse and armor were come for him. And -there was a dwarf with everything that Beaumains -needed, and all of it the richest and best it -was possible for man to have. But though he was -horsed and trapped in cloth of gold, he had neither -shield nor spear.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> - -<p>Then said Sir Kay openly before all, "I will ride -after my boy of the kitchen."</p> - -<p>Just as Beaumains overtook the maiden, so did -Sir Kay overtake his former kitchen page.</p> - -<p>"Sir, know you not me?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>"Yea," said Beaumains, "I know you for an -ungentle knight of the court. Therefore beware -of me."</p> - -<p>Thereupon Sir Kay put his spear in the rest and -ran straight upon him, and Beaumains came fast -upon him with his sword in his hand. And Beaumains -knocked the spear out of the knight's hand -and Sir Kay fell down as he had been dead. -Beaumains took Sir Kay's shield and spear and -rode away upon his own horse. The dwarf took -Sir Kay's horse.</p> - -<p>Just then along came Sir Launcelot, and Beaumains -challenged him to a joust. And so they -fought for the better part of an hour, rushing together -like infuriated boars. And Sir Launcelot -marveled at the young man's strength, for he -fought more like a giant than like a knight. At -last he said, "Fight not so sore; your quarrel and -mine is not so great but we may leave off."</p> - -<p>"Truly that is truth," said Beaumains, "but -it doth me good to feel your strength, and yet, -my lord, I showed not the most I could do."</p> - -<p>Then Sir Launcelot confessed to Beaumains -that he had much ado to save himself, and that -Beaumains need fear no earthly knight. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -then Beaumains confessed to Sir Launcelot that -he was the brother of Sir Gawaine and the youngest -son of King Lot; that his mother, Dame Morgawse, -was sister to King Arthur, and that his -name was Gareth.</p> - -<p>After that Launcelot knighted Gareth, and -Gareth rode on after the maiden whose sister was -kept a prisoner by the Red Knight.</p> - -<p>When he overtook her she turned upon him -and said: "Get away from me, for thou smellest -all of the kitchen. Thy clothes are dirty with -grease and tallow. What art thou but a ladle-washer?"</p> - -<p>"Damosel," replied Beaumains, "say to me -what you will, I will not go from you whatsoever -you say, for I have undertaken to King Arthur for -to achieve your adventure, and so shall I finish -it to the end or I shall die therefor."</p> - -<p>Then came a man thereby calling for help, for -six thieves were after him. Even when Beaumains -had slain all the six thieves and set the man -free from his fears, then the maiden used him -despicably, calling him kitchen boy and other -shameful names.</p> - -<p>On the next day Beaumains slew two knights -who would not allow him and the maiden to cross -a great river.</p> - -<p>But all the maiden did was to taunt him. -"Alas," she said, "that ever a kitchen page should -have that fortune to destroy even two doughty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> -knights; but it was not rightly force, for the first -knight stumbled and he was drowned in the water, -and by mishap thou earnest up behind the last -knight and thus happily slew him."</p> - -<p>"Say what you will," said Beaumains, "but with -whomsoever I have ado withall, I trust to God -to serve him or he depart."</p> - -<p>"Fie, fie, foul kitchen knave," answered the -maiden, "thou shalt see knights that shall abate -thy boast."</p> - -<p>And so she continued to scold him and would -not rest therefrom. And they came to a black -land, and there was a black hawthorn, and -thereon hung a black banner, and on the other -side there hung a black shield, and by it stood a -black spear great and long, and a great black -horse covered with silk, and a black stone fast by.</p> - -<p>And before the Knight of the Black Lands the -maiden used Beaumains despicably, calling him -kitchen knave and other such names. And the -Black Knight and Beaumains came together for -battle as if it had been thunder. After hard -struggle Beaumains killed the Black Knight and -rode on after the damosel.</p> - -<p>"Away, kitchen boy, out of the wind," she -cried, "for the smell of thy clothes grieves me."</p> - -<p>And so ever despitefully she used him. Yet he -overcame the Green Knight, who was the brother -of the Black Knight, and spared his life at the -maiden's request.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> - -<p>And it was after the vanquishing of the Green -Knight that they saw a tower as white as any -snow, and all around the castle it was double-diked. -Over the tower gate there hung fifty -shields of divers colors, and under that tower was -a fair meadow. And the lord of the tower looked -out of his window and beheld Beaumains, the -maiden, and the dwarf coming.</p> - -<p>"With that knight will I joust," called the lord -of the tower, "for I see that he is a knight -errant."</p> - -<p>And before the knight the maiden used him -despitefully.</p> - -<p>And ever he replied, patiently, "Damosel, you -are uncourteous so to rebuke me, for meseemeth I -have done you good service." Then did the heart -of the maiden soften a little.</p> - -<p>"I marvel what manner of man you be," she said, -"for it may never be otherwise but that you come -of a noble blood, for so shamefully did woman -never rule a knight as I have done you, and ever -courteously you have suffered me, and that comes -never but of gentle blood."</p> - -<p>"Damosel," answered Beaumains, "a knight -may little do that may not suffer a damosel. -And whether I be gentleman born or not, I let -you wit, fair damosel, I have done you gentleman's -service."</p> - -<p>She begged him to forgive her, and this Beaumains -did with all his heart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> - -<p>Then they met Sir Persant of Inde, who was -dwelling only seven miles from the siege, and the -maiden besought Beaumains to flee while there -was yet time. But he refused.</p> - -<p>And when Sir Persant and Beaumains met -they met with all that ever their horses might run, -and broke their spears either into three pieces, -and their horses rushed so together that both -their horses fell dead to the earth. And they got -off their horses and fought for more than two -hours. And Beaumains spared his life only at -the maiden's request.</p> - -<p>Then Beaumains told Sir Persant that his name -was Sir Gareth. And the maiden said that hers -was Linet, and that she was sister to Dame -Lionesse, who was besieged.</p> - -<p>Then the dwarf took word to the lady who -was besieged, and the others came on after.</p> - -<p>"How escaped he," said the lady, Dame Lionesse, -"from the brethren of Sir Persant?"</p> - -<p>"Madam," said the dwarf, "as a noble knight -should."</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Dame Lionesse, "commend me unto -your gentle knight, and pray him to eat and drink -and make him strong. Also pray him that he be -of good heart and courage, for he shall meet with -a knight who is neither of bounty, courtesy, nor -gentleness; for he attendeth unto nothing but -murder, and that is the cause I cannot praise him -nor love him."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> - -<p>All that night Beaumains lay in an hermitage, -and upon the morn he and the damosel Linet broke -their fast and heard mass. Then took they their -horses, and, riding through a fair forest, they -came out upon a plain where there were many -pavilions and tents and a castle and much smoke -and a great noise. When they came near the -siege Beaumains espied upon great trees goodly -knights hanging by the neck, their shields about -their necks with their swords, and gilt spurs upon -their heels. There hung high forty knights.</p> - -<p>"What meanest this?" said Sir Beaumains.</p> - -<p>"Fair sir, "answered the damosel, "these knights -came hither to this siege to rescue my sister, -Dame Lionesse, and when the Red Knight of the -Red Lands had overcome them he put them to -this shameful death."</p> - -<p>Then rode they to the dikes, and saw them -double-diked with full warlike walls; and there -were lodged many great lords nigh the walls; -and there was great noise of minstrelsy; and the -sea beat upon the side of the walls, where there -were many ships and mariners' noise. And also -there was fast by a sycamore-tree, and there hung -a horn, the greatest that ever they saw, of an -elephant's bone. Therewith Beaumains spurred -his horse straight to the sycamore-tree, and blew -so eagerly the horn that all the siege and the castle -rang thereof. And then there leaped out knights -out of their tents and pavilions, and they within<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> -the castle looked over the walls and out of windows. -Then the Red Knight of the Red Lands armed -him hastily, and two barons set on his spurs upon -his heels, and all was blood red, his armor, spear, -and shield.</p> - -<p>"Sir," said the damosel Linet, "look you be glad -and light, for yonder is your deadly enemy, and -at yonder window is my sister, Dame Lionesse."</p> - -<p>Then Beaumains and the Red Knight put their -spears in their rests, and came together with all -their might, and either smote the other in the -middle of their shields, that the surcingles and -cruppers broke and fell to the earth both, and the -two knights lay stunned upon the ground. But -soon they got to their feet and drew their swords -and ran together like two fierce lions. And then -they fought until it was past noon, tracing, racing, -and foining as two boars. Thus they endured -until evensong time, and their armor was -so hewn to pieces that men might see their naked -sides. Then the Red Knight gave Beaumains -a buffet upon the helm, so that he fell groveling -to the earth.</p> - -<p>Then cried the maiden Linet on high: "Oh, Sir -Beaumains, where is thy courage? Alas! my sister -beholdeth thee and she sobbeth and weepeth."</p> - -<p>When Beaumains heard this he lifted himself -up with great effort and got upon his feet, and -lightly he leaped to his sword and gripped it in -his hand. And he smote so thick that he smote<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> -the sword out of the Red Knight's hand. Sir -Beaumains fell upon him and unlaced his helm -to have slain him. But at the request of the -lords he saved his life and made him yield him -to the lady.</p> - -<p>And so it was that Beaumains, or Sir Gareth, -as his real name was, came into the presence of -his lady and won her love through his meekness -and gentleness and courtesy and courage, as every -true knight should win the love of his lady.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>So ends happily one of the charming stories of -adventure and knighthood in one of the greatest -Cycles of Romance the world has ever known. -Indeed, in that Great Palace we have entered, -and some of whose golden doors we have been -opening, there is no door more loved by human -beings than the one over which is written <i>Romance</i>, -for boys and girls and their elders have -always loved a romantic story, and always will.</p> - -<p>There are four great romantic stories in the -Palace of English Literature. The first is <i>King -Arthur and the Round Table</i>, which Geoffrey of -Monmouth discovered for us by his golden window. -The second great romance is the story of -Charlemagne. This was in the twelfth century, -and the most valiant story which grew out of the -Charlemagne Cycle was that of Roland. Every -one should know the story of Roland and his -famous sword, Durendal. The third is the <i>Life</i> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span><i>of Alexander</i>, which came to England from the -east. And the fourth is the <i>Siege of Troy</i>, composed -in the thirteenth century and written in -Latin.</p> - -<p>It takes many, many stories to satisfy our love -of Romance. As we pass through the golden door -over which is written <i>Romance</i>, one whole wall is -filled with the names of lesser romances forgotten -long, long ago. But the stories which Sir Thomas -Malory gave us in his <i>Morte d'Arthur</i>, written in -1469, will never be forgotten as long as the English -language is spoken.</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a><br /><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2><a name="CHRONOLOGY" id="CHRONOLOGY">CHRONOLOGY</a></h2> - - - -<table class="chron" summary="Chronology"> -<tr> - <td class="tch"></td> - <td class="tch">HISTORY</td> - <td class="tch">LITERATURE</td> - <td class="tch">SCIENCE AND ART</td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="ch1"><p class="forgat">200-600</p></td> - <td class="ch2"> - <p class="ptab">Romans leave Britain, 409-420.</p> - <p class="ptab">Coming of Angles and Saxons, 449.</p> - <p class="ptab">King Arthur, d. 520.</p> - </td> - <td class="ch3"> - <p class="ptab">St. Augustine, 354-430. </p> - <p class="ptab">Earliest Gaelic lays, 200-300.</p> - <p class="ptab">St. Patrick, d. 465.</p> - <p class="ptab">Merlin, 475-575.</p> - <p class="ptab">Taliesin, 500-560. </p> - <p class="ptab">"Traveller's Song," Widsith.</p> - </td> - <td class="ch4"> - <p class="ptab">Galen, the great doctor, d. 200.</p> - <p class="ptab">Baths of Caracalla, 215.</p> - <p class="ptab">Great Roman Roads.</p> - <p class="ptab">Underground churches for Christians, 250-260.</p> - <p class="ptab">Glass used in cathedral windows, 300.</p> - <p class="ptab">First bells in Europe.</p> - <p class="ptab">The first clock, a water-clock, 5th century.</p> - </td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="ch1"><p class="forgat">600-1066</p></td> - <td class="ch2"> - <p class="ptab">Charlemagne, 742-814.</p> - <p class="ptab">First landing of Danes, 787.</p> - <p class="ptab">Alfred, 871-900. </p> - <p class="ptab">Battle of Brunanburh, 937. </p> - <p class="ptab">Canute, 1016-1035.</p> - <p class="ptab">Macbeth, 1040-1057. </p> - <p class="ptab">Edward the Confessor, 1042.</p> - <p class="ptab">Harold, 1066.</p> -</td> - <td class="ch3"> - <p class="ptab">Beowulf, 7th century, formative period.</p> - <p class="ptab">Cædmon, late 7th century.</p> - <p class="ptab">Judith.</p> - <p class="ptab">The Fight at Finnesburg.</p> - <p class="ptab">St. Cuthbert, d. 686.</p> - <p class="ptab">Aldhelm, 655-709.</p> - <p class="ptab"><i>Arabian Nights</i> (Traditions of), c. 700.</p> - <p class="ptab">"Deor's Lament."</p> - <p class="ptab">Bede, 670?-735.</p> - <p class="ptab">Cynewulf, c. 725-800.</p> - <p class="ptab">Old German alliterative poetry, 8th poetry, 8th century</p> - <p class="ptab">Nennius, Historia Britonum, probl. 9th century.</p> - <p class="ptab">Alfred's translations, after 871.</p> - <p class="ptab">Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 875-1154.</p> - <p class="ptab">_Asser's Life of Alfred_, 910.</p> - <p class="ptab">Poems "Battle of Brunanburh," 937; "Battle of Maldon," 994.</p> - <p class="ptab">First medieval drama, 980.</p> - <p class="ptab">Aelfric's Homilies, 995.</p> - <p class="ptab">Early Chanson de Gestes and Fabliaux, 1000 and later.</p> - </td> - <td class="ch4"> - <p class="ptab">The first stone English churches, 680.</p> - <p class="ptab">The organ used in a church, 757.</p> - <p class="ptab">Worms Cathedral commenced, 996.</p> - </td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="ch1"><p class="forgat">1066-1200</p></td> - <td class="ch2"> - <p class="ptab">William the Conqueror, 1066-1087.</p> - <p class="ptab">The Crusades, 1095-1270.</p> - <p class="ptab">Feudal system in England.</p> - <p class="ptab">_Domesday Book_, 1086.</p> - <p class="ptab">_Domesday Book_, 1086.</p> - <p class="ptab">William II., 1087-1100.</p> - <p class="ptab">Henry I., 1100-1135.</p> - <p class="ptab">Stephen, 1135-1154.</p> - <p class="ptab">Civil War, 1139-1142.</p> - <p class="ptab">Henry II., 1154-1189.</p> - <p class="ptab">Thomas à Becket, d. 1170.</p> - <p class="ptab">Richard I., 1189-1199.</p> - <p class="ptab">John, 1199-1216.</p> -</td> - <td class="ch3"> - <p class="ptab">"Chanson de Roland," composed 1066-1097?</p> - <p class="ptab">Archbishop Anselm, 1093-1109.</p> - <p class="ptab">William of Guienne, the first troubadour, late 11th century.</p> - <p class="ptab">William of Malmesbury, 1095-1142.</p> - <p class="ptab">Chansons d'Alexandre, 1050-1150.</p> - <p class="ptab">Chronicle of Geoffrey of Monmouth, 1137.</p> - <p class="ptab">Nibelungen Lied, c. 1140.</p> - <p class="ptab">Wace's "Brut d'Angleterre," 1155.</p> - <p class="ptab">Minnesingers.</p> - <p class="ptab">Arthurian legends, 12th century.</p> - <p class="ptab">Giraldus Cambrensis, 1147-1216.</p> - <p class="ptab">Crestien de Troyes, 1140-1227.</p> - <p class="ptab">Gottfried von Strasburg.</p> - <p class="ptab">Marie de France, Lais, late 12th century.</p> - </td> - <td class="ch4"> - <p class="ptab">Striking clocks with wheels, late 11th century.</p> - <p class="ptab">Westminster Hall and London Bridge built, late 11th century.</p> - <p class="ptab">Wool manufactured in England, early 12th century.</p> - <p class="ptab">Silk cultivated in Sicily, 1146.</p> - <p class="ptab">Leaning Tower of Pisa commenced, 1174.</p> - </td> -</tr><tr> - <td class="ch1"><p class="forgat">1200-1350</p></td> - <td class="ch2"> - <p class="ptab">Magna Charta, 1215.</p> - <p class="ptab">Henry III., 1216-1272.</p> - <p class="ptab">The Barons' War, 1262-1266.</p> - <p class="ptab">Edward I., 1272-1307.</p> - <p class="ptab">Wales subdued, 1282.</p> - <p class="ptab">William Wallace, fl. 1296-1298.</p> - <p class="ptab">Edward II., 1307-1327.</p> - <p class="ptab">Robert Bruce, 1306-1329.</p> - <p class="ptab">Battle of Bannockburn, 1314,</p> - <p class="ptab">Edward III., 1327-1377.</p> - <p class="ptab">Scotland reorganized, 1328.</p> - <p class="ptab">Opening of Hundred Years' War with France, 1337.</p> -</td> - <td class="ch3"> - <p class="ptab">Walther von der Vogelweide, c. 1170-1235.</p> - <p class="ptab">St. Francis of Assisi, 1182-1226.</p> - <p class="ptab">Wolfram von Eschenbach's "Parzival," early 13th century.</p> - <p class="ptab">The Bestiary, early 13th century.</p> - <p class="ptab">Romance of the Rose, 13th and 14th centuries.</p> - <p class="ptab">Havelok (English version), 1300.</p> - <p class="ptab">Bevis of Hampton (English version), c. 1300.</p> - <p class="ptab">Guy of Warwick (English version), c. 1300.</p> - <p class="ptab">Mabinogion, 1250-1290.</p> - <p class="ptab">King Horn (English version), 1250.</p> - <p class="ptab">Dante, 1265-1321.</p> - <p class="ptab">Jean de Meung, b. 1280.</p> -</td> - <td class="ch4"> - <p class="ptab">University of Paris Charter, c. 1200.</p> - <p class="ptab">The University of Oxford Charter, c. 1200.</p> - <p class="ptab">The University of Cambridge Charter, c. 1231.</p> - <p class="ptab">Roger Bacon, 1214-1292. (Reference to gunpowder.)</p> - <p class="ptab">Cologne Cathedral commenced, 1249.</p> - <p class="ptab">First rag paper, c. 1300.</p> - <p class="ptab">First apothecaries in England, 1345.</p> - <p class="ptab">Glass windows in general use, 1345.</p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> - - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Early English Hero Tales, by Jeannette Marks - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EARLY ENGLISH HERO TALES *** - -***** This file should be named 53723-h.htm or 53723-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/7/2/53723/ - -Produced by Shaun Pinder, Haragos Pál and The Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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