CHAPTER V.
HOW HEREWARD SUCCORED THE PRINCESS OF CORNWALL A SECOND TIME.
Fat was the feasting and loud was the harping in the halls of Alef theCornishman, King of Gweek. Savory was the smell of fried pilchard andhake; more savory still that of roast porpoise; most savory of all thatof fifty huge squab pies, built up of layers of apples, bacon, onions,and mutton, and at the bottom of each a squab, or young cormorant, whichdiffused both through the pie and through the ambient air a delicateodor of mingled guano and polecat. And the occasion was worthy alike ofthe smell and of the noise; for King Alef, finding that after the Ogre'sdeath the neighboring kings were but too ready to make reprisals on himfor his champion's murders and robberies, had made a treaty of alliance,offensive and defensive, with Hannibal the son of Gryll, King ofMarazion, and had confirmed the same by bestowing on him the hand ofhis fair daughter. Whether she approved of the match or not, was askedneither by King Alef nor by King Hannibal.
To-night was the bridal-feast. To-morrow morning the church was tohallow the union, and after that Hannibal Grylls was to lead home hisbride, among a gallant company.
And as they ate and drank, and harped and piped, there came into thathall four shabbily drest men,--one of them a short, broad fellow, withblack elf-locks and a red beard,--and sat them down sneakingly at thevery lowest end of all the benches.
In hospitable Cornwall, especially on such a day, every guest waswelcome; and the strangers sat peaceably, but ate nothing, though therewas both hake and pilchard within reach.
Next to them, by chance, sat a great lourdan of a Dane, as honest,brave, and stupid a fellow as ever tugged at oar; and after a whilethey fell talking, till the strangers had heard the reason of this greatfeast, and all the news of the country side.
"But whence did they come, not to know it already; for all Cornwall wastalking thereof?"
"O, they came out of Devonshire, seeking service down west, with somemerchant or rover, being seafaring men."
The stranger with the black hair had been, meanwhile, earnestly watchingthe Princess, who sat at the board's head. He saw her watching him inreturn, and with a face sad enough.
At last she burst into tears.
"What should the bride weep for, at such a merry wedding?" asked he ofhis companion.
"O, cause enough;" and he told bluntly enough the Princess's story. "Andwhat is more," said he, "the King of Waterford sent a ship over lastweek, with forty proper lads on board, and two gallant Holders withthem, to demand her; but for all answer, they were put into the stronghouse, and there they lie, chained to a log, at this minute. Pity it isand shame, I hold, for I am a Dane myself; and pity, too, that sucha bonny lass should go to an unkempt Welshman like this, instead of atight smart Viking's son, like the Waterford lad."
The stranger answered nothing, but kept his eyes upon the Princess, tillshe looked at him steadfastly in return.
She turned pale and red again; but after a while she spoke:--
"There is a stranger there; and what his rank may be I know not; but hehas been thrust down to the lowest seat, in a house that used to honorstrangers, instead of treating them like slaves. Let him take this dishfrom my hand, and eat joyfully, lest when he goes home he may speakscorn of bridegroom and bride, and our Cornish weddings."
The servant brought the dish down: he gave a look at the stranger'sshabby dress, turned up his nose, and pretending to mistake, put thedish into the hand of the Dane.
"Hold, lads," quoth the stranger. "If I have ears, that was meant forme."
He seized the platter with both hands; and therewith the hands both ofthe Cornishman and of the Dane. There was a struggle; but so bitter wasthe stranger's grip, that (says the chronicler) the blood burst fromthe nails of both his opponents.
He was called a "savage," a "devil in man's shape," and other daintynames; but he was left to eat his squab pie in peace.
"Patience, lads," quoth he, as he filled his mouth. "Before I take mypleasure at this wedding, I will hand my own dish round as well as anyof you."
Whereat men wondered, but held their tongues.
And when the eating was over and the drinking began, the Princess rose,and came round to drink the farewell health.
With her maids behind her, and her harper before her (so was the Cornishcustom), she pledged one by one each of the guests, slave as well asfree, while the harper played a tune.
She came down at last to the strangers. Her face was pale, and her eyesred with weeping.
She filled a cup of wine, and one of her maids offered it to thestranger.
He put it back, courteously, but firmly. "Not from your hand," said he.
A growl against his bad manners rose straightway; and the minstrel, who(as often happened in those days) was jester likewise, made merry at hisexpense, and advised the company to turn the wild beast out of the hall.
"Silence, fool!" said the Princess. "Why should he know our west-countryways? He may take it from my hand, if not from hers."
And she held out to him the cup herself.
He took it, looking her steadily in the face; and it seemed to theminstrel as if their hands lingered together round the cup-handle, andthat he saw the glitter of a ring.
Like many another of his craft before and since, he was a vain,meddlesome vagabond, and must needs pry into a secret which certainlydid not concern him.
So he could not leave the stranger in peace: and knowing that hisprivileged calling protected him from that formidable fist, he neverpassed him by without a sneer or a jest, as he wandered round the table,offering his harp, in the Cornish fashion, to any one who wished to playand sing.
"But not to you, Sir Elf-locks: he that is rude to a pretty girl whenshe offers him wine, is too great a boor to understand my trade."
"It is a fool's trick," answered the stranger at last, "to put off whatyou must do at last. If I had but the time, I would pay you for yourtune with a better one than you ever heard."
"Take the harp, then, boor!" said the minstrel, with a laugh and a jest.
The stranger took it, and drew from it such music as made all heads turntoward him at once. Then he began to sing, sometimes by himself, andsometimes his comrades, "_more Girviorum tripliciter canentes_" joinedtheir voices in a three-man-glee.
In vain the minstrel, jealous for his own credit, tried to snatch theharp away. The stranger sang on, till all hearts were softened; and thePrincess, taking the rich shawl from her shoulders, threw it over thoseof the stranger, saying that it was a gift too poor for such a scald.
"Scald!" roared the bridegroom (now well in his cups) from the head ofthe table; "ask what thou wilt, short of my bride and my kingdom, and itis thine."
"Give me, then, Hannibal Grylls, King of Marazion, the Danes who camefrom Ranald, of Waterford."
"You shall have them! Pity that you have asked for nothing better thansuch tarry ruffians!"
A few minutes after, the minstrel, bursting with jealousy and rage, waswhispering in Hannibal's ear.
The hot old Punic [Footnote: Hannibal, still a common name in Cornwall,is held--and not unlikely--to have been introduced there by the ancientPhoenician colonists.] blood flushed up in his cheeks, and his thinPunic lips curved into a snaky smile. Perhaps the old Punic treachery inhis heart; for all that he was heard to reply was, "We must not disturbthe good-fellowship of a Cornish wedding."
The stranger, nevertheless, and the Princess likewise, had seen thatbitter smile.
Men drank hard and long that night; and when daylight came, thestrangers were gone.
In the morning the marriage ceremony was performed; and then began thepageant of leading home the bride. The minstrels went first, harping andpiping; then King Hannibal, carrying his bride behind him on a pillion;and after them a string of servants and men-at-arms, leading countryponies laden with the bride's dower. Along with them, unarmed, sulky,and suspicious, walked the forty Danes, who were informed that theyshould go to Marazion, and there be shipped off for Ireland.
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Now, as all men know, those parts of Cornwall, flat and open furze-downsaloft, are cut, for many miles inland, by long branches of tide river,walled in by woods and rocks, which rivers join at last in the greatbasin of Falmouth harbor; and by crossing one or more of these, thebridal party would save many a mile on their road towards the west.
So they had timed their journey by the tides: lest, finding low waterin the rivers, they should have to wade to the ferry-boats waist deepin mud; and going down the steep hillside, through oak and ash and hazelcopse, they entered, as many as could, a great flat-bottomed barge, andwere rowed across some quarter of a mile, to land under a jutting crag,and go up again by a similar path into the woods.
So the first boat-load went up, the minstrels in front, harping andpiping till the greenwood rang, King Hannibal next, with his bride, andbehind him spear-men and axe-men, with a Dane between every two.
When they had risen some two hundred feet, and were in the heart of theforest, Hannibal turned, and made a sign to the men behind him.
Then each pair of them seized the Dane between them, and began to bindhis hands behind his back. "What will you do with us?"
"Send you back to Ireland,--a king never breaks his word,--but pickout your right eyes first, to show your master how much I care for him.Lucky for you that I leave you an eye apiece, to find your friend theharper, whom if I catch, I flay alive."
"You promised!" cried the Princess.
"And so did you, traitress!" and he gripped her arm, which was round hiswaist, till she screamed. "So did you promise: but not to me. And youshall pass your bridal night in my dog-kennel, after my dog-whip hastaught you not to give rings again to wandering harpers."
The wretched Princess shuddered; for she knew too well that such anatrocity was easy and common enough. She knew it well. Why should shenot? The story of the Cid's Daughters and the Knights of Carrion; thefar more authentic one of Robert of Belesme; and many another ugly taleof the early middle age, will prove but too certainly that, before thedays of chivalry began, neither youth, beauty, nor the sacred ties ofmatrimony, could protect women from the most horrible outrages, at thehands of those who should have been their protectors. It was reservedfor monks and inquisitors, in the name of religion and the Gospel, tocontinue, through after centuries, those brutalities toward women ofwhich gentlemen and knights had grown ashamed, save when (as in the caseof the Albigense crusaders) monks and inquisitors bade them torture,mutilate, and burn, in the name of Him who died on the cross.
But the words had hardly passed the lips of Hannibal, ere he reeled inthe saddle, and fell to the ground, a javelin through his heart.
A strong arm caught the Princess. A voice which she knew bade her haveno fear.
"Bind your horse to a tree, for we shall want him; and wait!"
Three well-armed men rushed on the nearest Cornishmen, and hewed themdown. A fourth unbound the Dane, and bade him catch up a weapon, andfight for his life.
A second pair were dispatched, a second Dane freed, ere a minute wasover; the Cornishmen, struggling up the narrow path toward the shoutsabove, were overpowered in detail by continually increasing numbers; andere half an hour was over, the whole party were freed, mounted on theponies, and making their way over the downs toward the west.
"Noble, noble Hereward!" said the Princess, as she sat behind him onHannibal's horse. "I knew you from the first moment; and my nurse knewyou too. Is she here? Is she safe?"
"I have taken care of that. She has done us too good service to be lefthere, and be hanged."
"I knew you, in spite of your hair, by your eyes."
"Yes," said Hereward. "It is not every man who carries one gray eye andone blue. The more difficult for me to go mumming when I need."
"But how came you hither, of all places in the world?"
"When you sent your nurse to me last night, to warn me that treason wasabroad, it was easy for me to ask your road to Marazion; and easier too,when I found that you would go home the very way we came, to know that Imust make my stand here or nowhere."
"The way you came? Then where are we going now?"
"Beyond Marazion, to a little cove,--I cannot tell its name. There liesSigtryg, your betrothed, and three good ships of war."
"There? Why did he not come for me himself?"
"Why? Because we knew nothing of what was toward. We meant to havesailed straight up your river to your father's town, and taken youout with a high hand. We had sworn an oath,--which, as you saw, Ikept,--neither to eat nor drink in your house, save out of your ownhands. But the easterly wind would not let us round the Lizard; so weput into that cove, and there I and these two lads, my nephews, offeredto go forward as spies, while Sigtryg threw up an earthwork, and made astand against the Cornish. We meant merely to go back to him, and givehim news. But when I found you as good as wedded, I had to do what Icould while I could; and I have done it."
"You have, my noble and true champion," said she, kissing him.
"Humph!" quoth Hereward, laughing. "Do not tempt me by being toograteful. It is hard enough to gather honey, like the bees, for otherfolks to eat. What if I kept you myself, now I have got you?"
"Hereward!"
"O, there is no fear, pretty lady. I have other things to think of thanmaking love to you,--and one is, how we are to get to our ships, andmoreover, past Marazion town."
And hard work they had to get thither. The country was soon roused andup in arms; and it was only by wandering a three days' circuit throughbogs and moors, till the ponies were utterly tired out, and left behind(the bulkier part of the dowry being left behind with them), that theymade their appearance on the shore of Mount's Bay, Hereward leading thePrincess in triumph upon Hannibal's horse.
After which they all sailed away for Ireland, and there, like youngBeichan,--
"Prepared another wedding, With all their hearts so full of glee."
And this is the episode of the Cornish Princess, as told by Leofric ofBourne, the cunning minstrel and warlike priest.