Famous Tales of Fact and Fancy Part 20

Then the dauntless prince undid the golden collar from his neck and gave it to Wiglaf with his helmet and coat of mail, saying:

"Thou art the last of all our race, for Fate has swept away all my kindred save thee to their doom, and now I also must join them," and with these words the aged king fell back dead.

Now as Wiglaf sat by his lord, grieving sorely at his death, the other ten thanes who had shown themselves to be faithless and cowardly approached with shame to his side. Then Wiglaf turned to them, crying bitterly:

"Truly our liege lord flung away utterly in vain the battle-gear that he gave ye. Little could he boast of his comrades when the hour of need came. I myself was able to give him some succor in the fight, but ye should have stood by him also to defend him. But now the giving of treasure shall cease for ye and ye will be shamed and will lose your land-right when the n.o.bles learn of your inglorious deed. Death is better for every earl than ignominious life."

After this Wiglaf summoned the other earls and told them of all that had happened and of the mound that Beowulf wished them to build. Then they gathered together at the mouth of the cave and gazed with tears upon their lifeless lord and looked with awe upon the huge dragon as it lay stiff in death beside its conqueror. Afterwards, led by Wiglaf, seven chosen earls entered the cave and brought forth all the treasure, while others busied themselves in preparing the funeral pyre.

When all was ready and the huge pile of wood had been hung with helmets, war-shields and bright coats of mail, as befitted the funeral pyre of a n.o.ble warrior, the earls brought their beloved lord's body to the spot and laid it on the wood. Then they kindled the fire and stood by mourning and uttering sorrowful chants, while the smoke rose up and the fire roared and the body was consumed away. Afterwards they built a mound on the hill, making it high and broad so that it could be seen from very far away. Ten days they spent in building it; and because they desired to pay the highest of honors to Beowulf, they buried in it the whole of the treasure that the dragon had guarded, for no price was too heavy to pay as a token of their love for their lord. So the treasure even now remains in the earth, as useless as it was before.

When at last the mound was completed, the n.o.ble warriors gathered together and rode around it, lamenting their king and singing the praise of his valor and mighty deeds.

Thus mourned the people of the Geats for the fall of Beowulf, who of all kings in the world was the mildest and kindest, the most gracious to his people, and the most eager to win their praise.

THE GOOD KING ARTHUR

Probably every one knows the story of the great King Arthur who, the legends say, ruled in Britain so many, many years ago and gathered about him in his famous Round Table, knights of splendid courage, tried and proven. So well loved was the story of Arthur in other countries as well as in England that it was among the very first works ever printed in Europe, and it was still welcomed centuries later when the great English poet, Alfred Tennyson, told it in his _Idylls of the King_.

The boy Arthur was really the son of King Uther Pendragon, but few persons knew of his birth. Uther had given him into the care of the enchanter Merlin, who had carried him to the castle of Sir Hector,[1] an old friend of Uther's. Here the young prince lived as a child of the house.

Now Merlin was a very wise man, and when King Uther died several years later the n.o.blemen asked his advice in choosing a new king.

"Gather together in St. Stephen's Church in London, on Christmas Day,"

was all the enchanter answered.

So the knights a.s.sembled, and when the ma.s.s was over and they pa.s.sed out into the churchyard, there they beheld a large block of stone, upon which rested a heavy anvil. The blade of a jeweled sword was sunk deeply into the anvil.

Wondering, the n.o.blemen drew near. One of them discovered an inscription upon the hilt which said that none but the man who could draw out the sword should ever rule in Uther's place. One by one they tried, but the sword was firmly imbedded. No one could draw it forth.

Arthur was only a baby at this time, but some years later Sir Hector traveled up to London, bringing with him his own son, Sir Kay, and his foster son, Arthur. Sir Kay had just reached manhood and was to take part in his first tournament. Imagine his distress, therefore, when, on arriving at the tourney ground, he discovered that he had forgotten to bring his sword.

"I will fetch it for you," cried the young Arthur, anxious to be of service.

He found the apartment of Sir Kay closed and locked; but he was determined to get a sword for his brother, and remembering the huge anvil he had seen in the churchyard, he hurried toward it. Grasping the hilt of the projecting sword, he drew it out easily.

Happy over his good fortune, Arthur returned to the tourney ground and gave the new sword to his foster brother. Sir Hector, who stood near, recognized it.

"Where did you get that sword?" he asked.

"From the great anvil in the churchyard of St. Stephen's I drew it," was the answer.

But Sir Hector still doubted, and when the tournament was over, he and all the princ.i.p.al n.o.bles of the realm rode back to the churchyard.

Arthur replaced the sword in the anvil and stood aside while all present tried to draw it forth. None succeeded. Then Arthur again stepped up, grasped the hilt and pulled out the blade.

"The king, the king!" the people cried; for they knew that at last they had found a worthy successor to the good King Uther.

So Arthur was crowned king and entered upon that wise and kingly rule of which the praises have so often been sung.

Following are the stories of the coming and pa.s.sing of Arthur as they are related by Tennyson:

THE COMING OF ARTHUR

Leodogran, the King of Cameliard, Had one fair daughter, and none other child; And she was fairest of all flesh on earth, Guinevere, and in her his one delight.

For many a petty king ere Arthur came Ruled in this isle, and ever waging war Each upon other, wasted all the land; And still from time to time the heathen host Swarm'd overseas, and harried what was left.

And so there grew great tracts of wilderness, Wherein the beast was ever more and more, But man was less and less, till Arthur came.

For first Aurelius lived and fought and died, And after him King Uther fought and died, But either fail'd to make the kingdom one.

And after these King Arthur for a s.p.a.ce, And thro' the puissance of his Table Round, Drew all their petty princedoms under him, Their king and head, and made a realm, and reign'd.

And thus the land of Cameliard was waste, Thick with wet woods, and many a beast therein, And none or few to scare or chase the beast; So that wild dog and wolf and boar and bear Came night and day, and rooted in the fields, And wallow'd in the gardens of the King.

And ever and anon the wolf would steal The children and devour, but now and then, Her own brood lost or dead, lent her fierce teat To human sucklings; and the children housed In her foul den, there at their meat would growl, And mock their foster-mother on four feet, Till, straighten'd, they grew up to wolf-like men, Worse than the wolves. And King Leodogran Groan'd for the Roman legions here again, And Caesar's eagle: then his brother king, Urien, a.s.sail'd him: last a heathen horde, Reddening the sun with smoke and earth with blood, And on the spike that split the mother's heart Spitting the child, brake on him, till, amazed, He knew not whither he should turn for aid.

But--for he heard of Arthur newly crown'd, Tho' not without an uproar made by those Who cried, "He is not Uther's son"--the King Sent to him, saying, "Arise, and help us thou!

For here between the man and beast we die."

And Arthur yet had done no deed of arms, But heard the call, and came: and Guinevere Stood by the castle walls to watch him pa.s.s; But since he neither wore on helm or shield The golden symbol of his kinglihood, But rode a simple knight among his knights, And many of these in richer arms than he, She saw him not, or mark'd not, if she saw, One among many, tho' his face was bare.

But Arthur, looking downward as he past, Felt the light of her eyes into his life Smite on the sudden, yet rode on, and pitch'd His tents beside the forest. Then he drave The heathen; after, slew the beast, and fell'd The forest, letting in the sun, and made Broad pathways for the hunter and the knight, And so return'd.

For while he linger'd there, A doubt that ever smoulder'd in the hearts Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm Flash'd forth and into war: for most of these, Colleaguing with a score of petty kings, Made head against him, crying, "Who is he That he should rule us? who hath proven him King Uther's son? for lo! we look at him, And find nor face nor bearing, limbs nor voice, Are like to those of Uther whom we knew.

This is the son of Gorlos, not the King; This is the son of Anton, not the King."

And Arthur, pa.s.sing thence to battle, felt Travail, and throes and agonies of the life, Desiring to be join'd with Guinevere; And thinking as he rode, "Her father said That there between the man and beast they die.

Shall I not lift her from this land of beasts Up to my throne, and side by side with me?

What happiness to reign a lonely king, Vext--O ye stars that shudder over me, O earth that soundest hollow under me, Vext with waste dreams? for saving I be join'd To her that is the fairest under heaven, I seem as nothing in the mighty world, And cannot will my will, nor work my work Wholly, nor make myself in mine own realm Victor and lord. But were I join'd with her, Then might we live together as one life, And reigning with one will in everything Have power on this dark land to lighten it, And power on this dead world to make it live."

Thereafter--as he speaks who tells the tale-- When Arthur reached a field-of-battle bright With pitch'd pavilions of his foe, the world Was all so clear about him, that he saw The smallest rock far on the faintest hill, And even in high day the morning star.

So when the King had set his banner broad, At once from either side, with trumpet-blast, And shouts, and clarions shrilling unto blood, The long-lanced battle let their horses run.

And now the barons and the kings prevail'd, And now the King, as here and there that war Went swaying; but the Powers who walk the world Made lightnings and great thunders over him, And dazed all eyes, till Arthur by main might And mightier of his hands with every blow, And leading all his knighthood threw the kings Carados, Urien, Cradlemont of Wales, Claudias, and Clariance of Northumberland, The King Brandagoras of Latangor, With Anguisant of Erin, Morganore, And Lot of Orkney. Then, before a voice As dreadful as the shout of one who sees To one who sins, and deems himself alone And all the world asleep, they swerved and brake Flying, and Arthur call'd to stay the brands That hack'd among the flyers, "Ho! they yield!"

So like a painted battle the war stood Silenced, the living quiet as the dead, And in the heart of Arthur joy was lord.

He laugh'd upon his warrior whom he loved And honor'd most. "Thou dost not doubt me King, So well thine arm hath wrought for me today."

"Sir and my liege," he cried, "the fire of G.o.d Descends upon thee in the battle-field: I know thee for my King!" Whereat the two, For each had warded either in the fight, Sware on the field of death a deathless love.

And Arthur said, "Man's word is G.o.d in man: Let chance what will, I trust thee to the death."

Then quickly from the foughten field he sent Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere, His new-made knights, to King Leodogran, Saying, "If I in aught have served thee well, Give me thy daughter Guinevere to wife."

Whom when he heard, Leodogran in heart Debating--"How should I that am a king, However much he help me at my need, Give my one daughter saving to a king, And a king's son?"--lifted his voice, and call'd A h.o.a.ry man, his chamberlain, to whom He trusted all things, and of him required His counsel: "Knowest thou aught of Arthur's birth?"

Then spake the h.o.a.ry chamberlain and said, "Sir King, there be but two old men that know: And each is twice as old as I; and one Is Merlin, the wise man that ever served King Uther thro' his magic art; and one Is Merlin's master (so they call him) Bleys, Who taught him magic; but the scholar ran Before the master, and so far, that Bleys Laid magic by, and sat him down, and wrote All things and whatsoever Merlin did In one great annal-book, where after-years Will learn the secret of our Arthur's birth."

To whom the King Leodogran replied, "O friend, had I been holpen half as well By this King Arthur as by thee today, Then beast and man had had their share of me: But summon here before us yet once more Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere."

Then, when they came before him, the King said, "I have seen the cuckoo chased by lesser fowl, And reason in the chase: but wherefore now Do these your lords stir up the heat of war, Some calling Arthur born of Gorlos, Others of Anton? Tell me, ye yourselves, Hold ye this Arthur for King Uther's son?"