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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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