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Legend of King Arthur, and Sir
Owain.
How Arthur went to sleep one
day
Whilst sitting in his chair;
And how Sir Owain, with great essay,
Subdued a lady fair.
Not only do the legends of
Britain teem with records of murder, as being the chiefest delight of our
forefathers, but the same spirit runs through the legends and traditions of
all other countries whatsoever. We need but to refer to the Neibe-lungen
Lay, wherein the manners of our more remote Scandinavian progenitors are
duly pictured forth; and here we shall see that the greatest virtue in this
world, was to have butchered the greatest number of our fellow creatures,
and the greatest bliss in the next, the quaffing the blood of our enemies
out of their own skulls.
Asgardia, the paradise of
Odin, who himself was styled Oal Fadr, or Val Fadr, the Father of Slaughter
in the Runic, and Val-Halla, the Hall of Slaughter, are names indicative of
the prevailing turn of men's minds. None were considered worthy to go to
Val-Halla except such as died in war or by violence—so ignominious was it
considered to die reposedly in bed ; and this same notion appears in some
sort to have come down to the Turks and Tartars, who look to a place in the
Seventh Heaven. Such puny and despicable wretches as died peaceably at home,
were consigned to a place designated Hel, the meothesis of suffering and
ease, — a region wherein the dwellers seem to have been oppressed with what
we term ennui, not pleasure, and yet not positive suffering; a sort of
negative existence, tedious, tiring, and wearisome. But the place of actual
torture, the hell, the bottomless pit, the gehenna, this dreadful dungeon of
horror, was ycleped Nixleim; and to the excruciating torments of Nixleim the
ill-natured were devoted. Hence ill-nature in this world was held the
greatest crime of which man could be guilty, and deserving of the greatest
punishment which the imagination of man could devise : and hence, also, we
learn how highly the possession of good-nature and courteous bearing was
rated, even in an age so barbarous. This fact strikes us as the great
redeeming point to all the other savage practices of the Teutonic race ;
that amidst their extreme degradation, their love of ruthless war, as being
the only manly and honourable pastime, and their delight in vengeance,
oppression, and indiscriminate slaughter, this quality of good-nature should
be considered so highly; or, which is the same thing, that ill-nature should
be looked upon as deserving the cruellest retribution which the flames and
the demons of their gehenna could inflict.
If these savages could so
dearly prize an amiable mind, when the softer qualities were less in demand,
how much more shall we, now in an age of civilization, polish, and courtesy,
uphold a possession so fair, so sweet, so beauteous to behold?
In the later ages of
chivalry, we hear less of this thirst for blind murder, and more of gentle
manners. Knights fought then, not so much for the sake of committing
slaughter, as for the sake of putting down the despotic and oppressive ; and
as it was a great virtue to be bold in the field, so also it was no less a
virtue to be courteous in the bower and the hall. Sir Owain is thus
commended for his sweetness by the old chroniclers, and Sir Kai is denounced
by them for being blunt, cross, rude, and ungentle in speech.
One day King Arthur was
sitting in the principal chamber of his palace at Caerlleon, surrounded by
several of his noble vassals, together with his queen the Princess
Gwenhwyvar, and her handmaidens, some of the company amusing themselves
relating stories of great achievements, and others busied about such other
pastimes as best consorted with their fancies. The king sat in the centre of
the apartment upon a seat of green rushes, over which was spread a covering
of flame-coloured satin; and a cushion of red satin supported his elbow. "
Flame-colour," or rather yellow-red, as the word melyngoch in the original
signifies, was a dye of which the ancients were very fond, as it is
frequently mentioned by the troubadours and minstrels of the middle ages,
especially when alluding to costly stuffs pertaining to princes and
vavasours; and even now-a-days in Wales, amongst the most unsophisticated of
the Kymri, this hue tints many of the garments worn by the women. The
cushion was an indispensable in every chamber; guests and wayfarers were
welcomed and made comfortable by their entertainers by the act of presenting
them with cushions to sit or recline on; and the old triplet sets it forth
as one of three things that a man could hardly do without, as thus:
"Tri plieth gweddus i wr eu
bod yn ei dy,—
"Ei wraig yn ddiwair;
Ei glustog yn ei gadair;
A'i dely yn gywair."
"Three things proper for a
man to have in his house,—
"A virtuous wife;
His cushion in his chair;
And his harp in tune."
And as the son of Pendragon
sat there, he grew a little drowsy whilst waiting for his dinner, but not
forgetting dignity to himself, or politeness to his friends, he spoke
thus:—"If I thought you would not disparage me, I would sleep while I wait
for my repast; and you can entertain one another with relating tales, and
can obtain a flagon of mead and some meat from Kai." Then he leant back and
took a nap. The seneschal, or dapifer, Sir-Kai, went to the cellar for mead
and a golden goblet, and soon returned, likewise bringing "a handful of
skewers upon- which were broiled collops of meat." Having discussed this,
and then having modestly contended amongst themselves as to who should not
tell the tale, by framing many coy and pretty excuses, Kynon, the son of
Clydno, is finally prevailed on, and he relates his strange adventures in
the Forest of Breceliande. The hearing of this so stirred up the curiosity
and love of adventure in the bosom of Sir Owain, one of the listeners, that
he set off the very next day toward the same forest,—a proceeding which led
to his marriage with the widowed countess, as we will tell anon.
He journeyed on through a
valley, in the midst of which ran a river, until such time as he came to a
stately castle at the end of it, where he beheld two youths with yellow
hair, clad in garments of yellow satin, and each with a frontlet of gold on
his head, and golden clasps upon their insteps. They each bore an ivory bow
strung with-the sinews of the stag, "and they were shooting their daggers.'
Then he greeted au old man, who introduced him into the castle, where he was
disarrayed by four and twenty beauteous damsels, who had been sitting at the
window embroidering satin; and in place of his own habiliments, they dressed
him in an under vest and a doublet of fine linen, a robe, a surcoat, and a
mantle of yellow satin, trimmed with a broad gold band. They placed cushions
both beneath and around him; they brought silver bowls for him to wash in,
and linen towels to dry himself with, some being white and some green. He
feasted sumptuously, waited on by some of the damsels, and then the aged man
entered into conversation. Owain told him that he had come that way, bent
upon attempting an adventure in which Kynon had previously been foiled and
overthrown, namely, that of fighting with the Black Knight who guarded the
Fountain. After smiling at his fool-hardiness, the man reluctantly gave him
every necessary information, and Owain took his course through the country
as directed.
Many strange haps bring him
to an open plain, wherein stood a large tree covered with intensely green
foliage, beneath which was the fountain; beside the fountain there was a
large slab of marble, and on the slab, attached to it by a chain, there
stood a bowl of silver. Acting as directed, he took the bowl, and threw a
bowlful of water upon the stone; and immediately his ears were greeted with
a most terrific peal of thunder, together with a shower of hailstones so
violent, that he was fain to lift his shield over himself and his horse's
head for safety. The weather then became fair, but every leaf that had been
upon the tree was gone. Soon afterwards a flight of birds came and settled
upon the branches, and sung a sweeter strain than ever Owain had heard in
all his life before, in the midst of which he was suddenly pained by the
sound of something like murmuring and complaining. Then appeared a knight on
a black horse making hastily towards him, clothcd in black armour and
trappings of black velvet, and with a pennon on the head of his spear of the
same sable hue. Now, whilst Arthur was sleeping, and Kynon was relating to
Gwenhwyvar and the rest, all the particulars of his encounter with this
'defender of the glade, as it occurred to him before the same was undertaken
by Owain, he. set forth how that the knight unhorsed him by the fury of his
onset, and then when he was overthrown, how he passed the shaft of his black
lance through the bridle rein of his horse, riding away with it together
with his own, leaving Sir Kynon on the ground, not deigning even to bestow
so much notice on him as to imprison him, or despoil him of his arms. He
also pleasantly told, how that when he returned discomfitted back by the way
he had come, and met the man who had directed him to the Fountain, " it was
a marvel that he did not melt down into a liquid pool, through the shame he
felt at the man's derision."
Howbeit, Sir Owain either had
better luck or better address, for it fared differently with him, and of a
truth, it fared ditferently with this foul payniin. Having spurred against
each other so vigorously as to break both their lances, they drew their
swords and fought blade to blade. "Then Owain," saith the Llyfr Coch o
Hergest, " struck the knight a blow through his helmet, head-piece, and
visor, and through the skin, and the flesh, and the bone, until it wounded
the very brain." Feeling that he had at last received a mortal wound, he
incontinently turned his horse's head and fled toward his castle. Owain
pursued so close upon him that they both galloped over the drawbridge
together, but here the portcullis was let down upon them by the warders with
a sudden crash. The knight of the castle sped through the gateway into the
court, " and the portcullis," continues the legend, " was let fall upon
Owain ; and it struck his horse behind the saddle, and cut him in two, and
carried away the rowels of the spurs that were upon Owain's heels." Of a
verity this was " coming it close." Owain was now in a cage. "And the
portcullis descended to the floor. And the rowels of the spurs and part of
the horse were without, and Owain, with the other part of the horse remained
between the two gates, and the inner gate was closed, so that Owain could
not go thence; and Owain was in a perplexing situation." Perplexing
indeed,—and no marvel either.
Whilst here, he could peep
through a hole in the gate, and he could see a fair and spacious street with
houses on each side; in this street he perceived a beauteous damsel, having
yellow curling hair, a frontlet of gold on her forehead, shoes of variegated
leather on her feet, and a vesture of yellow silk thrown over her graceful
form. She approached the gate, desiring that it might be opened; but the
enclosed hero laments his inability to do so, saying that it is no more in
his power for him to serve her, than it may be hers to serve him in such a
"perplexing situation." Then responded she: — "Truly, it is very sad that
thou canst not be released, and every woman ought to succour thee, for I
never saw one more faithful in the service of ladies than thou. As a friend
thou art the most sincere, and as a lover the most devoted." Upon that she
presents him with a ring, telling him to turn the stone inwards and to close
his fingers upon it, adding, that as long as he concealed the stone, it
would indeed conceal him. Through the efficacy of this gift he evades his
enemies, who soon returned to him to take vengeance ; he nvisibly follows
his deliverer to a place of safety, where she restores him with a sumptuous
feast and courteous entertainment.
Not long after this, the
nobleman who owned the castle dies of the wouiids he had received of Owain,
and the " Countess of the Fountain," his widow, with whom Owain was
desperately smitten as he saw her amidst the mourners of the funeral
procession, but not at that time knowing who she was, remained alone in her
possessions, unprotected herself, and unable to defend her territory from
her rapacious and lawless neighbours. On being so struck with her beauty,
Owain asks his companion who she might be? The maiden answers him that she
is the Countess of the Fountain, and her mistress. "Verily," said Owain, "
she is the woman that I love best." "Verily," said the maiden, "she shall
also love thee not a little." Having said this, she determined to pave the.
way to her mistress's heart for her guest; thinking, according to the idea
of the times, that none could be so fit to defend the lady's acres, and
hills, and mansions, as a knight so doughty, and at the same time so full of
service. to the softer sex. "Come here and sleep,"' said she, addressing him
with this intention ; " and 1 will go and woo for thee." So Owain slept, and
the maiden went to the castle.
When she arrived thither, she
found her mistress in a woful plight, mourning and wailing in such sort,
that she was unahle to endure the sight of any one. Her bower-woman, whose
name was Luned, as we are now informed, then saluted her with meet
inquiries; but receiving no answer, she craves to know how it is, and what
ails her that she cannot speak ? The countess here reproaches Luned that she
has not been .near her so long, but has retired herself away even when her
affliction most needed consolation and society. The maiden reproves her lady
for giving way to a useless grief, since her good lord was gone, and no
excess of tears could recall him. The countess declares there is not a man
in the whole Vansal world that can compare with her lamented husband; but
Luned dissents from her here, hinting that she knows better, and that she
knows of some great advantage that might accrue to her mistress. Words,
liowbeit, run so high, that the attendant hastily quits the presence of the
countess on having delivered these sentiments, and hopes that evil may
betide the one who shall make the first advancement towards reconciliation.
Yet was the haughty lady's curiosity excited, insomuch that she burned to
know what Luned had to say ; and here follows a passage of exquisite nature
:—" The countess arose and followed her to the door of the chamber, and
began coughing loudly. And when Luned looked back, the countess beckoned to
her; and she returned to the countess." These manoeuvres indeed brought
about a reconciliation; the lady was content to listen and her bower-woman
to woo for Owain in his absence.
"Thou knowest," said Luned,
"that except by warfare and arms it is impossible for thee to preserve thy
possessions; delay not, therefore, to seek some one who can defend them."
"And how can I do that?" said
the countess. "I will tell thee," said Luned; "unless thou canst defend the
fountain, thou canst not maintain thy dominions; and no one can defend the
fountain, except it be a knight of Arthur's household ; and I will go to
Arthur's court, and ill betide me, if I return thence without a warrior who
can guard the fountain, as well as, or even better, than he who defended it
formerly."
"That will be hard to
perform," said the countess. "Go, however, and make proof of that which thou
hast promised."
This artful conference being
ended, the maid retired ; but in place of going to Arthur's court at
Caerlleon, she only hastened back to Owain; she related what had passed, and
prepared the knisrht for an interview with
her mistress. On the day appointed, Owain
arrived himself in a coat, and a surcoat, and a mantle of yellow satin, —a
colour in especial esteem M'itli the ancients, as the old romances
portray—and upon the last was a broad band of gold lace ; and on his feet he
put high shoes of variegated leather, fastened with golden clasps wrought
into the form of lions.
"The next day," (after the
presentation,) saith the Llyfr Coch, " the countess caused all her subjects
to assemble, and showed them that her earldom was left defenceless, and that
it could not be protected but with horse and arms, and military skill. '
Therefore,' said she, ' this is what I offer for your choice; either let one
of you take me, or give your consent for me to take a husband from
elsewhere, to defend my dominions.'"
"So they came to the
determination that :.t was better that she should have permission to marry
some one from elsewhere ; and thereupon she sent for the bishops and
archbishops, to celebrate her nuptials with Owain. And the men of the
earldom did Owain homage."
In this narrative, which has
been so ably done into English by Lady Guest, and parts of which we have
given verbatim to the reader, a characteristic trait of the manners of the
times in which it was written is pleasantly set forth. A poor knight, who
possessed hardihood and valour, had every chance of fighting his way into
the bosom and territories of any rich heiress or widow whatsoever ; for in
those days, when " might was right," and the best title-deed was a strong
arm, the great solicitude of well-portioned ladies was, to discover a
stalwart knight who should preserve their lands from the depredations of
their neighbours. Every trivial misunderstanding was settled by the lance
and the sword ; and he who unhorsed his adversary, possessed himself of his
property. Amongst the many advantages of knighthood, as creditably and
valorously borne by men of gentle blood, St. Palaye does not omit this as
one by which courage and address may come poor into lists, and retire
covered with honour, riches, and the love of the fair sex. For, as a lady's
possessions were nothing to her unless she could keep them, and as in the
plenitude of chivalry and knight-errantry, it was matter of course for her
to love and to marry, and as again, owing to the unsettled and troublous
state of the times, the man most deserving of love, was the man most capable
of defending the weak or delicate from oppression, so it was natural for her
to select, independent of any innate or intrinsic virtue, the greatest
muscular strength, valour, perseverance, and hardihood, that could centre in
one and the same individual ; indeed, these external qualifications argued
and supposed every mental virtue of which the person of a man could be
possessed. |
