AND 
 
 TALES 
 
 UNIVER5ITY PUBimiNC © 
 
 NEW YORK Pm mi ORLEAN5 
 
vS^y* 
 
 ') UBRARY 
 
 l/N/VERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
/..--^ 
 
GOLDEN ROD BOOKS 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES 
 
 FOURTH READEE GRADE 
 
 COMPILED AND ADAPTED BY 
 
 JOHN H. haaee:n^, a.m. 
 
 JOHN S. PRELL 
 
 Civil & Mechanical Engineer, 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 
 
 NEW YORK AND NEW ORLEANS 
 
 UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING CO. 
 1899 
 
GOLDEN ROD BOOKS 
 
 GRADED READINGS FOR SCHOOL OR HOME 
 
 RHYMES AND FABLES 
 SONGS AND STORIES 
 FAIRY LIFE 
 BALLADS AND TALES 
 
 JPlut^ '■ 
 
 Copyright, 1896, by 
 UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING CO. 
 
 ♦ ** 2107 
 
 Press of J. J. Little & Co. 
 Astor Place, New York 
 
 GIFT 
 
Ul 
 
 PREFACE. ^ 
 
 The selections of this little volume are made 
 from the more familiar and popular ballads and 
 tales relating to historic or legendary incidents and 
 personages that have been celebrated in literature. 
 
 A ballad, originally sung by harpers and min- 
 strels, is a simple, spirited narrative poem arranged 
 in short stanzas. The early ballads of all nations 
 are founded upon historical incident, but always 
 highly colored by the singer according to his taste 
 and imagination. The ballads that have come 
 down to us are growths^ rather than direct creations. 
 They are the work of several hands, and the result 
 of many successive adaptations. The compiler has 
 endeavored to select ballads that tell a plain story, 
 and have at the same time some of the spirit and 
 ring which we naturally look for in compositions of 
 this kind. 
 
 Where the harper was not at hand, or where the 
 incidents w^ere so many and complex as to unfit 
 them for narration in the simple form of the ballad, 
 the tale gratified the instinct for story-telling that 
 is strong in the human mind. The tale would 
 
 913 
 
4: PREFACE. 
 
 probably begin with the adventures of some real 
 hero, and each succeeding narrator would add to 
 the details, Just as each ballad grew according to 
 the fancy of the minstrel. 
 
 In both the ballad and the tale, the mesh of 
 adventure and romance that has been woven about 
 the heroes of olden time has completely hidden 
 their true personality. They have been made the 
 subject of so many tales, and their deeds have 
 been so freely sung, that it is impossible to separate 
 fiction from reality. Heroes have come down to 
 us having little except their names in common 
 with their originals, but they have a permanent 
 place in literature, even though they differ from the 
 chai'acters that history has been able to reveal to us. 
 
 Such selections as these, put into the hands of 
 the young, will tend to foster a wholesome enjoy- 
 ment of reading and to develop a fondness for 
 books. They introduce the yoimg reader to some 
 of the names and deeds of the olden time, which 
 are constantly referred to in our standard and cur- 
 rent literature. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 KoBiN Hood akd Little John . • . . 7 
 
 The Tkue and the False Prince .... 15 
 
 The Seven Sisters 25 
 
 Legend of King Arthur 27 
 
 Arthur's Victories over the Eebellious Kings o 33 
 
 The Knights of the Bound Table ... 41 
 
 Death of Arthur 50 
 
 The Death of Roland ...... 57 
 
 The Ballad of Chevy Chase .... 67 
 
 Dick Whittington and his Cat .... 76 
 
 The Heart of the Bruce 90 
 
 The Story of Macbeth 99 
 
 Prince Edward and Adam Gordon . . . 115 
 
 William Tell .120 
 
 A Legend of Bregenz 138 
 
 Richard, the Lion-Hearted 147 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/balladstalesfourOOhaarrich 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 HEN Robiu Hood was about twenty 
 years old, 
 He happened to meet Little John, 
 A jolly brisk blade, right fit for the trade, 
 For he was a lusty young man. 
 
8 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Though he was called little, his limbs they were 
 large, 
 
 And his stature was seven foot high ; 
 Wherever he came, they quaked at his name, 
 
 For soon he would make them to fly. 
 
 How they came acquainted I'll tell you in brief ^ 
 
 If you would but listen awhile ; 
 For this very jest, among all the rest, 
 
 I think, may cause you to smile. 
 
 For Robin Hood said to his jolly bowmen, 
 "Pray tarry you here in this grove. 
 
 And see that you all observe well my call. 
 While through the forest I rove. 
 
 "We've had no sport these fourteen long days, 
 
 Therefore now abroad will I go ; 
 Now should I be beat, and cannot retreat. 
 
 My horn I will presently blow." 
 
 Then did he shake hands with his merry men 
 all, 
 
 And bid them at present good-by ; 
 Then as near a brook his journey he took, 
 
 A stranger he chanced so espy. 
 
BALLADS AND TALElS. 9 
 
 They happened to meet on a long narrow bridge, 
 And neither of them would give way; 
 
 Quoth bold Robin Hood, and sturdily stood, 
 "I'll show you right Nottingham play." 
 
 With that from his quiver an arrow he drew, 
 A broad arrow with a goose wing; 
 
 The stranger replied, "I'll liquor"^ thy hide, 
 If thou offer to touch the string." 
 
 Quoth bold Robin Hood, "Thou dost prate like 
 an ass, 
 For, were I to bend but my bow, 
 I could send a dart quite through thy proud 
 heart. 
 Before thou could'st strike me one blow." 
 
 " Thou talk'st like a coward," the stranger replied ; 
 
 "Well armed with your long bow you stand, 
 To shoot at my breast, while I, I protest, 
 
 Have naught but a staff in my hand." 
 
 " The name of a coward," quoth Robin, " I scorn, 
 Therefore my long bow I'll lay by; 
 
 And now, for thy sake, a staff will I take, 
 The truth of thy manhood to try." 
 
 * Moisten, drench. 
 
10 BALLADS AND TALES, 
 
 Then Robin Hood stepped to a thicket of trees, 
 And chose him a staff of ground oak ; 
 
 Now this being done, away he did run 
 To the stranger, and merrily spoke : 
 
 " Lo ! see my staff is lusty and tough ; 
 
 Now here on the bridge we will play; 
 Whoever falls in, the other shall win 
 
 The battle, and so we'll away." 
 
 " With all my whole heart ! " the stranger replied ; 
 
 "I scorn in the least to give out." 
 This said, they fell to 't without more dispute. 
 
 And their staffs they did flourish about. 
 
 At first Robin gave the stranger a bang, 
 So hard that he made his bones ring; 
 
 The stranger he said, "This must be repaid; 
 I'll give }^ou as good as you bring. 
 
 "So long as I'm able to handle a staff, 
 To die in your debt, friend, I scorn." 
 
 Then to it each goes, and followed their blows^ 
 As if' they had been threshing of corn. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 11 
 
 The stranger gave Robin a crack on the crown, 
 Which caused the blood to appear; 
 
 Then Robin enraged more fiercely engaged, 
 And followed his blows more severe. 
 
 So thick and so fast did he lay it on him, 
 
 With a passionate fury and ire, 
 At every stroke he made him to smoke. 
 
 As if he had been all on fire. 
 
 O then in a fury the stranger he grew, 
 
 And gave him a terrible look ; 
 Then dealt him a blow, which laid him full low, 
 
 And tumbled him into the brook. 
 
 " I prithee, good fellow, O where art thou now ? " 
 
 The stranger, in laughter, he cried ; 
 Quoth bold Robin Hood, " Good faith ! in the 
 flood. 
 
 And floating along with the tide. 
 
 "I needs must acknowledge thou art a brave 
 soul, 
 
 With thee I'll no longer contend; 
 For needs must I say thou hast got the day. 
 
 Our battle shall be at an end." 
 
12 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Then unto the bank he did presently wade, 
 
 And pulled him out by a thorn ; 
 Which done, at the last he blew a loud blast 
 
 Straightway on his fine bugle horn : 
 
 The echo of which thro' the valleys did fly, 
 At which his stout bowmen appeared, 
 
 All clothM in green, most gay to be seen; 
 So up to their master they steered. 
 
 " O, what is the matter ? " quoth Will Stutely, 
 " Good master, you're wet to the skin ! " 
 
 " No matter," quoth he, '' the lad which you see, 
 In fighting hath tumbled me in." 
 
 "He shall not go scot-free," the others replied. 
 So straight they were seizing him there, 
 
 To duck him likewise, but Robin Hood cries, 
 " He is a stout fellow ; forbear ! 
 
 " There's no one shall wrong thee, friend, be not 
 afraid ; 
 These bowmeu upon me do wait : 
 There's three score and nine ; if thou Avilt be 
 mine, 
 Thou shalt have my livery straight, 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 13 
 
 "And other accoutrements fit for a man: 
 
 Speak up, Jolly blade, never fear; 
 I'll teach you also the use of the bow, 
 
 To shoot at the fat fallow deer." 
 
 "O, here is my hand," the stranger replied, 
 " I'll serve you with all my whole heart : 
 
 My name is John Little, a man of good mettle; 
 Ne'er doubt me, for I'll play my part." 
 
 "His name shall be altered," quoth Will Stutely, 
 
 " And I will his godfather be ; 
 Prepare then a feast, and none of the least, 
 
 For we will be merry," quoth he. 
 
 They presently fetched him a brace of fat does, 
 With humming strong liquor likewise : 
 
 They loved what was good ; so in the green w^ood 
 This pretty sweet babe they baptized. 
 
 He was, I must tell you, but seven feet high. 
 And may be an ell in the waist ; 
 
 A sweet pretty lad; much feasting they had, 
 Bold Robin the christening graced, 
 
u 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 With all his bowmen, which stood in a ring, 
 And were of the Nottingham breed. 
 
 Brave Stiitely came 
 then with seven 
 yeomen, 
 And did in this 
 manner pro- 
 ceed : 
 
 "This infant was 
 called John 
 Little," quoth 
 he, 
 " Which name shall 
 be changed 
 anon : 
 The words we'll transpose ; so wherever he goes. 
 His name shall be called Little John." 
 
 They all with a shout made the elements ring, 
 
 As soon as the office was o'er ; 
 To feasting they went, with true merriment. 
 
 Such joy was ne'er seen before. 
 
 Then Robin he took the pretty sweet babe. 
 
 And clothed him from top to toe 
 In garments of green, most gay to be seen-, 
 
 And gave him a curious long bow. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 15 
 
 "Thou shalt be an archer as well as the best, 
 And range in the green wood with us, 
 
 Where we'll not want gold, nor silver, behold. 
 While travelers have aught in their purse. 
 
 "We live here like squires or lords of renown. 
 
 Without e'er a foot of free land; 
 We feast on good cheer, throughout the whole year, 
 
 With everything at our command." 
 
 Then music and dancing did furnish the day : 
 At length, when the sun waned low, 
 
 Then all the whole train their grove did refrain, 
 With unto their caves they did go. 
 
 And so ever after, as long as they lived. 
 
 Although he was proper and tall. 
 Yet, nevertheless, the truth to express. 
 
 Still Little John they did him call. 
 
 THE TRUE AND THE FALSE PRINCE. 
 
 Once there was a king of Naples who was so 
 stern and cruel that his subjects, and even his fam- 
 ily, found it very hard to retain their love and 
 respect for him. This king had a son named Ros- 
 
16 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 wal, who was beloved by everyone because of his 
 noble and generous disposition. One day while the 
 young prince was passing the tower he heard groans 
 coming from the dungeon below. On inquiry he 
 learned that three noble lords were there, con- 
 demned to life-long imprisonment for having re- 
 fused to obey some unreasonable command of the 
 king. 
 
 This grieved the tender-hearted Roswal, and he 
 determined to free the prisoners, even though his 
 act should provoke his father's fiercest anger. Ob- 
 serving that the keys 
 of the prison were each 
 night placed under the 
 king's pillow, Roswal 
 watched for an oppor- 
 tunity, and finally suc- 
 ceeded in withdrawing 
 them while his father 
 was asleep. Hastening 
 to the dungeon, he re- 
 leased the prisoners, 
 and then replaced the 
 keys vdthout disturbing the king. 
 
 On the following day when the jailers went to 
 the dungeon with the usual supply of food and 
 water for the prisoners, they were astonished to find 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 17 
 
 the cells vacant. In fear and trembling they re- 
 ported the fact to the king, who was convulsed with 
 rage. In a moment of passion he vowed that who- 
 ever had aided the prisoners to escape should be 
 put to death. 
 
 An investigation was at once begun, but nothing 
 was discovered. No one suspected Roswal, but he 
 began to fear that perhaps some innocent person 
 might suffer for his act; so he went to his father 
 and confessed what he had done. When the king 
 learned that it was his own son who had interfered 
 with his plans for vengeance his anger greatly in- 
 creased. For a long time neither the tears of the 
 queen nor his love for the young prince could in- 
 duce the king to recall his vow. Finally he spared 
 his son's life, but banished him from Naples. 
 
 The king ordered his high steward, who was one 
 of his favorite officers, to accompany Roswal as a 
 guardian and companion during his exile. This 
 steward was very fond of the pleasures of a life at 
 court, and did not relish being compelled to share 
 the banishment of the young prince. As soon as 
 they left Naples he began to upbraid Roswal, and 
 to blame him for the misfortunes which had fallen 
 upon both. To these complaints Roswal paid no 
 attention, for he felt that no matter what might be- 
 fall him, he had the satisfaction of knowing that he 
 
18 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 had restored to life and liberty three of the noblest 
 men in the kingdom. 
 
 When the steward saw that his taunts had no 
 effect on Koswal, he began devising some plan by 
 which he could turn the present misfortunes to his 
 own advantage. He knew that the king had given 
 his son certain letters which would secure him a 
 proper reception at a friendly coiii't, and also Jewels 
 and money to support him in princely style. The 
 steward decided that he would get possession of the 
 papers and valuables and then present himself at 
 some court as the heir to the crown of Naples. 
 Having thus formed his plan, he watched for an 
 opportunity to carry it out. 
 
 One day Roswal and the steward were traveling 
 in a strange region, when they came to a river, and 
 Roswal stooped to drink at the water's edge. The 
 crafty steward saw his opportunity. He seized the 
 prince by the heels and threatened to hurl him into 
 the river if he did not give up the papers and 
 treasure, and promise never to reveal what had oc- 
 curred. Roswal was forced to yield. The steward 
 secured the property and at once galloped away, 
 taking Roswal's horse with him. 
 
 At first Roswal was overcome with grief, but 
 after some thouQ;ht he concluded that he was fortu- 
 nate in escaping from such an evil and disagreeable 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 19 
 
 companion. Being hungry and weary, lie began to 
 look for some place where he could obtain food and 
 shelter. Before long 
 he reached a comfort- 
 able cottage where he 
 was kindly received 
 by the good dame. 
 She questioned him 
 as to who he was 
 and whence he came. 
 These were hard ques- 
 tions for Roswal. He 
 could not tell why he 
 had been driven from 
 home, without blaming his father. He could not 
 tell who he was, without breaking his promise to 
 the steward. He was too noble to blame his father 
 or break his promise, so he simply said that through 
 misfortune he had no home and no friends. This 
 satisfied the good woman's curiosity, and he soon 
 became such a favorite with her that she adopted 
 him as a companion to her son. Roswal was sent 
 to the village school, and here he astonished every- 
 one by his remarkable knowledge. The fame of his 
 talents soon spread, and a nobleman of the country 
 took him to court as his page. 
 
 At court, Roswal's noble cliaracter and learning 
 
20 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 won for him many friends, and lie had not been 
 there many days when He was appointed cup-bearer 
 to the king's daughter, the Princess Lilian, a beau- 
 tiful girl a little younger than himself. 
 
 Meanwhile the treacherous steward had not been 
 idle. With his stolen letters he had presented him- 
 self as the Prince of Naples at the same court to 
 which Roswal afterwards came as a page. By his 
 cunning he had imposed on the king and obtained 
 the promise of the hand of his daughter in marriage. 
 Forthwith an embassy had been sent to secure the 
 consent of the King of Naples to the marriage of 
 his supposed son. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs when Roswal reached 
 the court as the nobleman's page. He was at once 
 recognized by the false prince, who, however, was 
 not alarmed, because he knew that Roswal would 
 not break his promise. In the course of time the 
 ambassadors returned from Naples, bearing the con- 
 sent of the king, and soon the court was astir with 
 preparations for the marriage. 
 
 The Princess Lilian did not rejoice at her ap- 
 proaching wedding, for she disliked the false prince, 
 and had given her heart to her young cup-bearer. 
 She suspected that he was of noble birth, but 
 he evaded all her questions regarding himself. 
 
 The marriage festivities were to begin with a 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 21 
 
 tournament, into wliicli the princess begged Roswal 
 to enter, but he pleaded ignorance of these knightly 
 contests. Day by day he grew more moody and 
 silent. When the morning of the first, tournament 
 arrived, he mounted his horse and went into the 
 forest to hunt, so that he might not witness the tri- 
 umph of his enemy. As he rode sadly along, an 
 old knight appeared, leading a black horse, from 
 the saddle of which a suit of black armor was hang- 
 ing. "Prince," said the knight, "put on this armor, 
 mount this horse, and repair to the tournament. 
 When you return I shall be here with your bag 
 filled with game." 
 
 Roswal put on the armor, leaped upon the horse, 
 and rode to the tourney. He entered the lists 
 and easily overthrew all his opponents. He then 
 charged upon the false prince, who became so 
 stricken with fear that he was unable to defend 
 himself. Roswal generously spared his enemy, 
 saluted the assembly, and rode away. The sud- 
 den appearance of this strange knight, and his easy 
 victory over all who opposed him, greatly astonished 
 all ; but every effort to learn who he was, or whence 
 he came, proved useless. 
 
 The next day Roswal again went into the forest 
 to hunt. This time he met a second knight, dressed 
 like his friend of the previous day, but leading a 
 
22 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 gray horse. He gave the horse and a suit of gray 
 armor to Roswal, instructing him to again enter 
 the lists. The cowardly steward, made bold by the 
 absence of .the knight on the black steed, hastened 
 
 i\jdi^^Jio^^'A^ 
 
 to attack the new knight, but with no better suc- 
 cess than that of the day before. After eclipsing 
 all the contestants by his deeds of valor, the gray 
 knight disappeared suddenly, and left the court in 
 such a high state of excitement and curiosity that 
 the king promised an earldom to the man who could 
 find the strange knight. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 23 
 
 While no one could solve the mystery, Princess 
 Lilian thought she detected a strong resemblance 
 between the two strange knights and Roswal ; yet 
 how was it that Roswal returned both evenings 
 with his game-bag full ? 
 
 On the third day another knight met Roswal in 
 the forest, and delivered to him a bay horse, a red 
 shield, green armor, and golden helmet. Thus goi*- 
 geously equipped, he joined the festivities, and by 
 his wonderful feats conquered all antagonists. He 
 then tossed a gold ring into the lap of the princess 
 and rode away. When he reached the forest he 
 found the three knights awaiting him. They told 
 him that they were the three noblemen whom he 
 had released from his father's dun^^eon. 
 
 They knew the story of his exile, and assured 
 him that the fair princess should not become the 
 wife of the wicked impostor. Roswal returned to 
 court more hopeful than before. 
 
 The next day was fixed for the wedding. The 
 guests were assembled in the palace, and the cere- 
 mony was about to begin, when suddenly three 
 magnificently dressed strangers entered the spacious 
 hall, and bowed before the king and his daughter, 
 without appearing to notice the steward. They 
 announced that they were nobles from the court of 
 Naples. Before they proceeded further the king 
 
24 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 rebuked them, and asked in angry tones why they 
 had not saluted their prince, the heir to the throne 
 of Naples. They responded that they did not see 
 the Prince of Naples in the hall. At that moment 
 Roswal entered. The three noblemen fell on their 
 knees before him and kissed his hand, showing 
 great love and respect for him. 
 
 Great was the aston- 
 r.^^ ishment when the nobles 
 
 told their story, and the 
 king learned that Ros- 
 wal was not only the 
 true prince, but also the 
 knight who had shown 
 such courage on the 
 three days of the tourna- 
 ment. The false prince 
 confessed his treachery, 
 and was hurried away 
 to life-long imprisonment. Roswal, who had loved 
 the princess from the first, now claimed her hand, 
 and the wedding was celebrated that day. 
 
 Thus did the true prince at last regain his rank. 
 In after years, as King of Naples, he won the love 
 and respect of his subjects, and was known far and 
 near as a just and charitable sovereign. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 25 
 
 I EVEN daughters had Lord Archibald, 
 All children of one mother; 
 I could not say in one short day 
 
 What love they bore each other. 
 A garland of seven lilies w^rought ! 
 
 Seven sisters that together dwell ; 
 But he, bold knight as ever fought, 
 Their father, took of them no thought. 
 
 He loved the Avars so well. 
 8ing^ mournfully^ oh ! mournfully ^ 
 The solitude of Binnorie! 
 
26 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Fresh blows the wind, a western windp 
 
 And from the shores of Erin, 
 Across the wave, a rover brave 
 
 To Binnorie is steering; 
 Right onward to the Scottish strand 
 
 The gallant ship is borne ; 
 The warriors leap upon the land, 
 And hark ! the leader of the band 
 
 Hath blown his bugle horn. 
 Sing^ mournfully^ oh ! mournfully^ 
 The solitude of Binnorie! 
 
 Beside a grotto of their own, 
 
 With boughs above them closing. 
 The seven are laid, and in the shade 
 
 They lie like fawns reposing. 
 But now, upstarting with affright 
 
 At noise of man and steed, 
 Away they fly to left, to right — 
 Of your fair household, father knight^ 
 
 Me thinks you take small heed I 
 Sing^ mournfully^ oh! mournfully, 
 The solitude of Binnorie! 
 
 Some close behind, some side by side, 
 Like clouds in stormy weather, 
 
 They run, and cry, "Now let us die, 
 And let us die together." 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 2? 
 
 A lake was near; the shore was steep; 
 
 There never foot had been; 
 They ran, and with a desperate leap 
 Together plunged into the deep, 
 
 Nor evermore were seen. 
 Sing^ mournfully^ oh ! mournfully j 
 The solitude of Binnorie! 
 
 The stream that flows out of the lake, 
 
 As through the glen it rambles, 
 Repeats a moan o'er moss and stone, 
 
 For those seven lovely Campbells. 
 Seven little islands, green and bare. 
 
 Have risen from out the deep. 
 The fishers say, those sisters fair 
 By fairies all are buried there. 
 
 And there together sleep. 
 Sing^ mournfully^ oh ! mournfully^ 
 The solitude of Binnorie! 
 
 — W. Words WORTH. 
 
 LEGEND OF KING ARTHUR. 
 
 Arthur, the great hero of romance, was the son 
 of Uther Pendragon, or Dragon's Head, king of 
 all England. At the birth of the prince, Merlin 
 the magician came to the king, and begged to be 
 
28 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 allowed to take the child, to train him for the 
 duties of a king. The request was granted and 
 
 the child was given to 
 Merlin, who had him 
 baptized under the name 
 of Arthur. He was then 
 placed in care of Sir 
 Ector, an esteemed 
 knight, and his lady, and 
 brought up as their son. 
 No person but Merlin, 
 King Uther, and the 
 mother. Queen Igraine, 
 knew the secret of Arthur's birth, and even the 
 Queen did not know what had become of him. 
 
 While Arthur was still a boy his father died 
 and the country was thus left without a king. 
 Uther at the time of his death was supposed to 
 be childless, and Arthur was regarded as the 
 son of Sir Ector. Many of the lords were am- 
 bitious, and, as they were brave and powerful, it 
 looked as though the kingdom would be broken 
 up by internal strife. But Merlin was wise and 
 the people respected him ; and he requested the 
 archbishop of Canterbury to summon all the lords 
 to London on Christmas Day. The archbishop 
 did so, and there was a large assembly of lords 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 29 
 
 and their retainers in the great church of Canter- 
 bury. 
 
 Outside the church, on the side nearest the altar, 
 a large stone had been seen that morning, and 
 upon it was a steel anvil, in which was stuck, al- 
 most to the hilt, a glittering sword. On the anvil 
 were written in letters of gold the w^ords, " Whoso 
 pulleth out this sword is true-born king of all 
 England." After the service in the church, the 
 lords and people crowded around the stone in 
 wonder and surprise. Many lords tried to pull 
 out the weapon, but they could not. 
 
 "The man is not here," said the archbishop, 
 " who shall draw out this sword, but I doubt not 
 God will make him known." 
 
 It was then announced that a further trial would 
 be given on New Year''s Day, and that all who 
 wished might try to draw out the sword. 
 
 On New Year's Day the lords and people assem- 
 bled again, and among them were Sir Ector, 
 Arthur's foster-father, and his son, Sir Kay. Again 
 many tried to pull out the sword, but in vain. 
 Then a tournament was held in which there were 
 encounters between many brave knights. In one 
 of these encounters the sword of Sir Kay, the 
 foster-brother of Arthur, was broken, and Arthur 
 was sent for another weapon. Passing the church, 
 
30 BALLADS AND TALKS. 
 
 and seeing the sword stuck in the anvil, lie ad- 
 vanced, and easily drew out the weapon. Then he 
 took it to Sir Kay, who, knowing it well, rode to Sir 
 Ector, and said : " Lo, here is the sword of the stone." 
 
 Sir Ector asked Sir Kay who gave him the sword. 
 " My brother Arthur," said he, " gave it to me." 
 
 " How got you this sword ? " said Sir Ector to 
 Arthur. 
 
 " When my brother Sir Kay sent me for a sword, 
 I passed by the church, and seeing, this sticking in 
 an anvil of steel set on a large stone, I drew it 
 forth." 
 
 "' Found you any knights about the weapon ? " 
 
 " Nay," said Arthur. 
 
 " Now," said Sir Ector, " must you be king of this 
 land ; for else you could never have drawn out 
 this sword. Let us go to the church, and see whether 
 you can put the sword w^here it was and pull it out 
 again." 
 
 They advanced to the church, and Arthur put the 
 sword into the anvil. Then Sir Ector tried to pull 
 it out and failed. Likewise Sir Kay tried and failed. 
 
 " Now try you," said Sir Ector to Arthur. 
 
 Arthur pulled it out easily. Thereupon Sir Ector 
 and Sir Kay kneeled down to the earth. 
 
 " Alas ! mine own dear father and brother, why 
 kneel ye to me ? " cried Arthur. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 31 
 
 '" Nay, nay, my lord Arthur," answered Sir Ector, 
 " I am not your father. Merlin brought you to 
 us, and we adopted you without knowing any- 
 thing of your parentage. Now I know that you 
 are of I'oyal blood." 
 
 Then Sir Ector, taking Sir Kay and Arthur with 
 him, went to the archbishop and told him every- 
 thing. Just then Merlin entered the room and 
 declared that Arthur was Uther's son. The arch- 
 bishop counselled them to silence, and then an- 
 nounced to the lords and people that a further trial 
 would be given on Twelfth Day."^ 
 
 On Twelfth Day the knights assembled again. 
 But of all that made the attempt none could draw 
 out the sword but Arthur. Then the lords were 
 angry, and said that it would be a shame to them 
 and to the realm to be governed by a boy who was not 
 of royal birth. They then agreed that the sword 
 should be put back, and another trial was set down 
 for Candlemas Day.f In the meantime ten knights 
 were appointed to w^atch the sword day and night. 
 
 Candlemas Day arrived, and again a great many 
 knights made the attempt to withdraw the sword. 
 They all failed, but Arthur again drew it forth with 
 the greatest ease. 
 
 * Twelfth day after Christinas, January 6th. 
 t February 2d. 
 
32 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 1 
 
 Much chagrined, the lords demanded a further 
 trial on Easter Day. It was granted, and as Arthur 
 had done before, so did he at Easter. Still indig- 
 nant that Arthur should be king, the lords insisted 
 
 ^% 
 
 '>.3' 
 
 W)^\^\A\\\A 
 
 \ 
 
 that a fifth trial be set down for Pentecost.* Then, 
 lest some attempt should be made on Arthur's life, 
 the archbishop, by Merlin's advice, selected a num- 
 ber of knights Avho had been most loved and trusted 
 
 * Seventh Sunday after Easter. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 33 
 
 by Utlier, and placed them as a guard about Arthur. 
 To them the secret of his parentage had been told, 
 and they remained constantly with him till the feast 
 of Pentecost. 
 
 At Pentecost again none but Arthur could draw 
 forth the sword. Then the people, disregarding 
 the wishes of the lords, cried out with one voice : 
 '^ Arthur shall be our king ! We will have no 
 further delay ! It is God's will that he should reign 
 over us ! " 
 
 The lords now fell on their knees before Arthur, 
 and craved mercy for having opposed him so long. 
 He freely forgave them, and laying the sword on 
 the altar, w^as crowned king by the archbishop. 
 Arthur swore to be a true king, and to administer 
 the affairs of his kingdom with justice. 
 
 ARTHUR'S VICTORIES OVER THE 
 REBELLIOUS KINGS. 
 
 As soon as Arthur was seated on the throne of 
 England the many wrongs that had been done 
 since the death of King Uther were righted, lands 
 unjustly taken were restored to their OAvners, and 
 peace was established among the contending lords 
 around London. The young king chose wise coun- 
 
 3 
 
34 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 cillors and administrators, and in ' a few years he 
 won . to his service nearly all the north country, as 
 well as Scotland and a large part of Wales. 
 
 Then Arthur entered Wales, and proclaimed a 
 great feast, after which he was to be crowned King 
 of Wales at Caerleon.* Before he reached that 
 city, he heard that six kings from the north 
 country had assembled there with twenty-eight 
 hundred knights. He was filled with joy, and sent 
 messengers loaded with costly gifts to greet them. 
 
 But the kings rejected the gifts and spurned the 
 messengers, saying : " We desire no gifts from a 
 beardless boy of base origin. Instead of receiving 
 gifts of gold and silver, we intend to bestow gifts 
 with swords of well-tempered steel. Tell your low- 
 born king his head is forfeit to us ! " 
 
 When this message was brought to King Arthur, 
 he prepared for a siege, gathering his knights about 
 him, and collecting provisions. Meanwhile Merlin 
 visited the hostile kings in the city of Caerleon, 
 and tried to win them over. 
 
 " Why," said they, " have you made that boy 
 Arthur your king ? " 
 
 " Because," answered the wizard, " he is the son 
 of Uther Pendragon and his wife Igraine. He is 
 
 * Pronounced kar-l5'-on. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 35 
 
 now king, and he shall overcome all his enemies. Ere 
 long he shall have subject to him Wales, Ireland, 
 Scotland, and more realms than I can now recall." 
 
 Some of the kings jeered at Merlin, but others 
 marvelled at his words. All, however, agreed that 
 Arthur should come and speak with them, and 
 assurance of safe conduct was given. 
 
 Arthur consented to parley with the kings, and 
 rode forth, accompanied only by the archbishop of 
 Canterbury and three knights. 
 
 At the meeting, stormy words were spoken on 
 both sides. King Arthur finally declared that he 
 would make the rebellious kings bow to his rule, 
 and departed. 
 
 " What will you do ? " said Merlin to the six 
 kings. ^'It would be wise to submit, for though 
 your numbers were ten times as great as they are 
 yet shall you not prevail." 
 
 But they only laughed at the wizard. With that 
 he departed, and came to King Arthur. Soon three 
 hundred of the bravest knights deserted the kings 
 and joined Arthur. Merlin urged him to prepare 
 for a fierce battle, and enjoined him not to use the 
 sword he had gained so miraculously unless he were 
 sorely pressed. " Then draw it," said Merlin, " and 
 do your best." 
 
 So King Arthur rode forth at the head of his 
 
36 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 knights. Wonderful were the feats of arms done 
 that day. Arthur astonished the opposing kings 
 by his deeds of valor. At last three of them 
 closed in on the youthful hero, slew his horse, and 
 struck him down. When they were about to kill 
 him, he drew forth his marvellous sword, which 
 was called Excalibur. As he wielded it, the blade 
 flashed so in the eyes of his enemies that they were 
 dazzled, and to escape its beams they spurred on 
 their steeds. This was the signal for retreat, and 
 the people of Caerleon, armed with clubs and staves, 
 joined in the pursuit, and slew many knights. Then 
 Arthur entered Caerleon in triumph. 
 
 There the victorious knights feasted and held a 
 grand tournament, in which they vied with one 
 another in deeds of arms. King Arthur soon pro- 
 ceeded to London, and called his lords together in 
 council. Merlin, too, was present, and he announced 
 that the six kings had only withdrawn to recruit 
 their forces, and that they had rallied to their 
 assistance five other kings. The united forces of 
 the rebellious kings and their allies numbered fifty 
 thousand horse and ten thousand footmen. 
 
 " Send, therefore," said Merlin, " to the kings of 
 Ben wick and Gaul, Ban and Bors, and entreat alli- 
 ance with them. I will be your messenger, if you 
 will send two trusty knights with me." 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 37 
 
 All was done as Merlin liad desired, and the 
 three departed. News came every day of the 
 power of the enemy, and an ordinance was made 
 that no man of war should be allowed to travel 
 through Arthur's country without a passport from 
 the King. 
 
 It was not long before the two who had accom- 
 panied Merlin returned with Kings Ban and Bors 
 and three hundred brave knights. Merlin re- 
 mained behind, to lead through secluded ways 
 the forces of the kings of Benwick and Gaul, to 
 the number of ten thousand horse. 
 
 Arthur's army now numbered twenty thousand, 
 ten thousand of his own men in the castle of 
 Bedegraine, and ten thousand allies in the neigh- 
 boring forest. 
 
 By Merlin's advice, scouts were sent to scour the 
 country. They met scouts of the enemy, and from 
 them learned which way their force was advanc- 
 ing. When this was told to Arthur, he, by the 
 advice of Ban and Bors, devasted the whole country 
 through which the hostile kings were to pass. 
 
 Soon the enemy arrived, and began to besiege the 
 castle of Bedegraine. Again the advice of Merlin 
 was sought. " Let Kings Ban and Bors be hid in 
 ambush," said he, '' and do you, Arthur, with your 
 ten thousand men, give battle to the foe. When 
 
38 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 you > have fought long, then let those in ambush 
 rush out, fresh and eager for the fray, and they 
 will do deadly work." 
 
 The three kings and the lords said that Merlin 
 advised well, and so it was done. 
 
 When the two armies stood face to face, the 
 enemy were glad to see how greatly they outnum- 
 bered Arthur's men, and they waited for the attack. 
 
 On came Arthur, at the 
 head of his knights, 
 and they fought like 
 lions. The knights of 
 the enemy were also 
 brave men, and they 
 thrust and hewed as 
 had never been seen 
 before. Arthur rode 
 here and there, on the 
 right hand and on the 
 left, and rested not till he had slain twenty 
 knights. His example was imitated by the brave 
 Sir Kay and Sir Ector, as well as by many others 
 of his followers. 
 
 Then King Lot, one of the rebellious kings, said 
 to the others : '' Unless ye do as I advise, we shall 
 all be slain. Let five of us and fifteen thousand 
 men stand apart while the rest continue the battle. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 39 
 
 Then, wlien ye have fought long, we will rush on 
 in your places." 
 
 They agreed to this, but when Lot and the other 
 kings who were with him stood apart, they were 
 attacked by troops of King Arthur that were in 
 ambush. Then King Lot, espying King Bors, cried 
 out : " O defend us ! for I see yonder one of the 
 best knights in the world." 
 
 " Who is he ? " asked one of the kings. 
 
 " King Bors of Gaul," replied Lot. " How came 
 he here without our knowledge ? It must have 
 been by Merlin's advice." 
 
 Lot then attacked King Bors's force with great 
 energy, but when he looked up from the havoc he 
 was making around him, he saw King Ban ad- 
 vancing. 
 
 " We are indeed lost ! " he exclaimed. " We are 
 now attacked by the most valiant knight in the 
 world." 
 
 King Ban came into the battle so fiercely that his 
 strokes resounded from wood and water, and King 
 Lot wept for pity when he saw so many of his 
 good knights come to an untimely end. He made 
 his way to the other ten kings and said : " Lords, 
 unless we send off our footmen, and get our horse- 
 men close together to cover up their flight, we are 
 undone." 
 
40 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 They then withdrew over the river. 
 
 At this Merlin came to Arthur and said: ^^ With- 
 draw your men now to your camp and rest. Re- 
 ward your good knights with gold and with silver, 
 for, though they are few in number, there were 
 never men who did better work than they have 
 done this day. You have matched with the best 
 fighters of the world." 
 
 "That is true," said Kings Ban and Bors. 
 
 "Withdraw where you list," continued Merlin. 
 "For three years they shall not dare to attack 
 you. These kings have more on hand than they 
 are aware of, for the Saracens have landed in their 
 countries, and are destroying their villages. Let 
 all the goods taken in this battle be given freely 
 to these two kings. Ban and Bors, that they may 
 properly reward their followers." 
 
 " It is well advised," said Arthur ; " and so shall 
 it be." 
 
 Then King Arthur and Kings Ban and Bors 
 departed, and on the way they rescued King Leo- 
 degrance from his enemy King Rience. And there 
 Arthur saw for the first time Guinever,* the daugh- 
 ter of King Leodegrance. Then he wished to ac- 
 company Kings Ban and Bors to their own coun- 
 
 * Pronounced gwin'e-v5r. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 41 
 
 try, to requite the service they had rendered him. 
 But they would not allow him, saying that there 
 was still much for him to do in his own land. 
 
 So they departed, and it happened as Merlin had 
 foretold. The eleven kings did not trouble Arthur 
 again, and he was free to put down all rebellious 
 outbreaks in other parts of his kingdom. 
 
 THE KNIGHTS OF THE EOUND TABLE. 
 
 One day. King Arthur said to Merlin : " My lords 
 continually urge me to take a wife, and I desire 
 thy counsel." 
 
 '' Well," answered Merlin ; " a man of your rank 
 and age should not be without a wife. Is there 
 anj^ one that you love more than another ? " 
 
 " Yes," said King Arthur, " I love Guinever, the 
 daughter of King Leodegrance, who has in his 
 house the Bound Table given to him by my father, 
 as you told me." 
 
 Then Merlin requested an escort of twenty-five 
 knights, that he might go and ask the hand of 
 Guinever. These were given, and Merlin went 
 forth to Leodegrance, and told him of Arthur's 
 love for his daughter. 
 
 ^^ This is to me the best tidings I have heard," said 
 Leodegrance. "I would give a part of my lands 
 
42 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 with my daughter, did I not know that he has lands 
 enough, but I shall send him a gift that will please 
 him much more. He shall have the Round Table 
 given me by Uther Pendragon, at which a hun- 
 dred and fifty knights may find seats. I lack fifty 
 knights, but he shall have the hundred that I now 
 have." 
 
 When King Arthur heard of the coming of Guin- 
 ever and the hundred knights with the Round 
 Table, he rejoiced, and said: "This fair lady is 
 indeed welcome, for I have loved her long. And 
 these knights w ith the Round Table please me more 
 than great riches." 
 
 Then, having ordered preparations for the mar- 
 riage and coronation with all possible grandeur, he 
 said to Merlin : — 
 
 "Go and find for me, in all this land, fifty 
 knights of the greatest valor and goodness." 
 
 But Merlin could not find more than twenty- 
 eight. These were brought in and the archbishop 
 of Canterbury came and blessed the seats at the 
 Table. After the knights had done homage to 
 King Arthur, each found his name written in let- 
 ters of gold on the table in front of his seat. 
 
 The wedding of the King and the fair Guinever 
 was celebrated with much solemnity, and the cere- 
 mony concluded with the coronation of the Queen. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 43 
 
 Then two knights were added to the hundred and 
 twenty-eight ah^eady seated at the Round Table, 
 and the names of these were Sir Gawaine and Sir 
 Tor. The other twenty places were left vacant for 
 the most Avorthy and valiant knights to be found 
 who should enter upon the quest of the Holy Grail. "^ 
 
 When King Arthur beheld his hundred and thirty 
 knights at the Round Table, he noticed that there 
 were no seats in three of the twenty vacant places. 
 
 " Why is this ? " he inquired. 
 
 "In two of the places," answered Merlin, "none 
 but the worthiest knights may sit ; the place between 
 these two is called the Siege Perilous, and if any 
 knight, however worthy, be so hardy as to sit in 
 it, save him for whom it is designed, he shall die." 
 
 Then was it ordained that every knight should 
 each year on the feast of Pentecost be present in his 
 place at the Round Table, and that many jousts 
 and tournaments should then be held. 
 
 Many years passed, and Arthur ever had in mind 
 to gather round him the best knights to be found 
 in his whole kingdom. Wherever a knight worthy 
 by reason of great prowess and noble character 
 was found, Arthur made him a knight of the 
 Round Table. Wherever a youth of exceeding 
 
 * The Holy Grail, or Sangreal, was, according to legend, the cup 
 used at the Last Supper. 
 
44 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 courage and high honor was discovered, Arthur 
 had him proved and knighted, and seated among 
 the knights who for chivalry, daring, and pious de- 
 votion had nowhere their equal in the entire world. 
 
 But of all the knights that were admitted to the 
 Round Table, none was braver or of greater prowess 
 than Sir Launcelot. Many and marvellous were his 
 adventures, and he was held in high esteem. 
 
 And of all the knights of the Round Table none 
 was purer and nobler than Sir Percival. Many 
 were his acts of noble chivalry, and wonderful, 
 indeed, was his pious devotion. 
 
 To these two knights were assigned the places 
 next the Siege Perilous. Now were all the places 
 filled at the Round Table, save onlj^^ that one place, 
 to sit in which was death to any but him for whom 
 it was designed. One hundred and forty-nine 
 knights they were, the like of whom had never 
 before been gathered together. 
 
 One time, as the feast of Pentecost was at hand, 
 and all the knights of the Round Table were come 
 to Camelot, there arrived a fair lady on horseback. 
 She alighted, and came before the King. 
 
 " God bless thee, damsel ! " said King Arthur ; 
 " whom seekest thou ? " 
 
 "Sir," said she, "I pray you, tell me where Sir 
 Launcelot is." 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 45 
 
 " Yonder is he," said the King. 
 Then she went to. Sir Laimcelot and said, "Ire- 
 quire you to come with me at once." 
 " To what purpose ? " asked Launcelot. 
 
 " That you shall know when you come," replied 
 she. 
 
 Sir Launcelot bade his squire saddle his horse 
 and bring his arms ; then in all haste he followed the 
 lady. They rode on till they came to an abbey. 
 Twelve nuns came forth to meet them, bringing a 
 
46 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 j^outli named Galahad, who was so fair and manly 
 that in all the world there coald not be found his 
 equal. 
 
 " Sir," said the nuns to Launcelot, " we bring you 
 here this youth, whom we have nourished, and we 
 pray you to make him a knight ; for so noble and 
 true is he that you alone of all the knights of. the 
 Round Table are worthy to bestow on him the 
 order of knighthood." 
 
 Sir Launcelot, looking at the young squire, ac- 
 knowledged that he had never seen so perfect a man. 
 " Comes this desire from himself ? " asked he. 
 The ladies and the youth all answered, " Yea." 
 
 ^^Then," said Sir 
 Launcelot, " if he prove 
 himself, he shall receive 
 the high order of 
 knighthood to-morrow." 
 So next morning 
 Galahad proved him- 
 self, and was knighted 
 by Sir Launcelot. 
 
 " Now, fair sir," said 
 Sir Launcelot, " will you 
 come with me to the court of King Arthur ? " 
 
 '^Nay," said he, "not at this time will I go to 
 the court." 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 47 
 
 Then Sir Launcelot departed for Camelot, leaving 
 the newly made knight behind. 
 
 The feast of Pentecost was duly celebrated in 
 the Cathedral. When the King and the knights 
 returned from the service and were about to take 
 their places at the Round Table, they found at 
 the Siege Perilous this inscription : " Four hundred 
 winters and fifty-four after the Passion of our Lord 
 ought this seat to be filled." 
 
 " This is marvellous ! " said all the knights. 
 
 " It seemeth to me," said Sir Launcelot, " that this 
 Siege ought to be filled this day, for it is the feast 
 of Pentecost in the four hundred and fifty-fourth 
 year. If it please you, I would none of these let- 
 ters were seen by others than ourselves till he 
 come that is to occupy this place." 
 
 Then he covered the place with a silken cloth, 
 and every knight took his own seat, and all were 
 served by young men who were knights. When 
 the knights of the Round Table were served, all the 
 places being filled save only the Siege Perilous, 
 anon there happened a marvellous thing. All the 
 doors and windows shut of themselves. Then there 
 came in an old man, clothed all in white, and no 
 one knew whence he came. With him he brought 
 a young knight without sword or shield. And 
 the two came to the Siege Perilous, beside Sir 
 
48 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Launcelot and Sir Percival, and lifting up the clotli 
 found there in letters of gold that shone brilliantly : 
 "This is the siege of Galahad, the noble prince." 
 
 So the good man departed, and all the knights of 
 the Round Table marvelled greatly that Sir Gala- 
 had, being so young, dared to sit in that Siege 
 Perilous. When they saw that he was the one for 
 whom the place had been designed, their wonder 
 increased the more. 
 
 The feast being over, the King went to the Siege 
 Perilous, and said unto Galahad : " Sir, you are wel- 
 come, for you shall move many knights to the 
 quest of the Holy Grail, and achieve that which no 
 knight has yet succeeded in doing." Then taking 
 him by the hand, the King said : " My heart is 
 broken, for now I see but once the full number of 
 my brave knights seated at my Table Round. It 
 is accomplished as has been foretold. I am sure 
 that all the knights of the Round Table will soon 
 depart in quest of the Holy Grail, and never again 
 shall I see you all together. Let us now repair to 
 the meadow of Camelot, to joust and to tourney, 
 that after your death men may speak of your feats 
 of valor and prowess." 
 
 All agreed to this, and arrayed themselves for the 
 tournament. Goodly were the deeds of the noble 
 knights, and many were the encounters with Sir 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 49 
 
 Galahad, who so broke spears that all men won- 
 dered at him. He defeated all who jousted with 
 him but two, Sir Launcelot and Sir Percival. 
 
 That evening at supper, every knight sat in his 
 own place at the Round Table. Then was heard 
 the cracking and rolling of thunder, and in the 
 midst there entered the hall a sunbeam clearer by 
 seven times than any seen by day. Every knight 
 looked at his neighbor, and saw him fairer and more 
 beautiful than ever before. None spoke to the 
 other, and all looked as though they were dumb. 
 Soon there entered into the hall the Holy Grail, 
 covered with white samite,^ so that none saw it, 
 nor who bore it. The hall was filled with sweet 
 odors, and every knight had such meat and drink 
 as he loved best. And when the Holy Grail had 
 been borne through the hall, it departed suddenly. 
 
 Then the King broke the solemn silence with 
 thanks to God for his grace, after which Sir 
 Gawaine rose and said : " Our feast this day has 
 been blessed with the presence of the Holy Grail, 
 but it was so covered that we saw it not. There- 
 fore I here make a vow that I will to-morrow 
 embark and devote a year and a day to knightly 
 deeds in search of the Holy Grail." When the 
 
 * A species of silk interwoven with gold. 
 4 
 
50 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 other "knights heard Sir Gawaine, they made like 
 vows. 
 
 " Alas ! " said King Arthur, " ye have slain me 
 with the vows that ye have made. I shall be be- 
 reft of the fairest knighthood ever seen together in 
 any realm of the world ! For I am sure we all 
 shall never more meet in' this world, for many of 
 you shall die in the quest." 
 
 On the morrow they departed, and every knight 
 took the way that he liked best. 
 
 Many were the adventures of the knights, and 
 few returned to the Eound Table. Sir Galahad 
 alone, as the purest and bravest of knights, achieved 
 the sight of the Holy Grail, and he died in his joy. 
 
 DEATH OF AETHUR 
 
 So all day long the noise of battle roll'd 
 Until King Arthur's table, man by man, 
 Had fallen in Lyonnesse about their Lord, 
 King Arthur: then, because his wound was deep, 
 The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him. 
 And bore him to a chapel nigh the field. 
 On one side lay the Ocean, and on one 
 Lay a great water, and the moon was full. 
 
 Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: 
 "The sequel of to-day unsolders all 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. ' 51 
 
 The goodliest fellowship of famous knights 
 Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep 
 They sleep — the men I loved. I think that we 
 Shall never more, at any future time, 
 Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, 
 Walking about the gardens and the halls 
 Of Camelot, as in the days that were. 
 I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm 
 That without help I cannot last till morn. 
 Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur, 
 And fling him far into the middle mere : 
 Watch what thou seest, and lightly bring me 
 word." 
 
 To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere : 
 "It is not meet. Sir King, to leave thee thus. 
 Yet, I thy hest will all perform at full, 
 Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word." 
 
 So saying, from the ruin'd shrine he stept 
 And in the moon athwart the place of tombs. 
 Came on the shining levels of the lake. 
 
 There drew he forth the brand Excalibur; 
 It sparkled keen with frost against the hilt : 
 For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks, 
 Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work 
 Of subtlest jewellery. He gazed so long 
 That both his eyes were dazzled, as he stood, 
 In act to throw : but at the last it seem'd 
 
52 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd 
 
 There in the many-knotted waterflags, 
 
 So strode he back slow to the wounded King. 
 
 Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere : 
 "What is it thou hast seen? or what hast 
 heard?" 
 
 And answer made the* bold Sir Bedivere: 
 "I heard the ripple washing in the reeds, 
 And the wild water lapping on the crag." 
 
 To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale : 
 "Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy name, 
 Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd 
 Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight : 
 Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again 
 As thou art lief and dear, and do the thing 
 I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word." 
 
 Then went Sir Bedivere the second time 
 Across the ridge, and paced beside the mere, 
 But when he saw the wonder of the hilt, 
 How curiously and strangely chased, he smote 
 His palms together, and he cried aloud, 
 
 "And if indeed I cast the brand away, 
 Surely a precious thing, one worthy note, 
 Should thus be lost forever from the earth." 
 
 So spake he, clouded with his own conceit. 
 And hid Excalibur the second time. 
 And so strode back slow to the wounded King. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 53 
 
 Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily: 
 ^^What is it thou hast seen? or what hast 
 heard?" 
 
 And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : 
 "I heard the water lapping on the crag, 
 And the long ripple washing in the reeds." 
 
 To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrath : 
 " Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue, 
 Unknightly, traitor-hearted ! Woe is me ! 
 For thou, the latest left of all my knights, 
 Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt ; 
 Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice, 
 And the third time may prosper, get thee hence ; 
 But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur, 
 I will arise and slay thee with my hands." 
 
 Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran, 
 And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged 
 Among the bulrush-beds, and clutch'd the sword, 
 And strongly wheel'd and threw it. The great 
 
 brand 
 Made lightnings in the splendor of the moon. 
 But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm 
 Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. 
 And caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him 
 Three times, and drew him under in the mere. 
 And lightly went the other to the King. 
 
 Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath : 
 
54 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 " Speak out : what is it tliou hast heard, or seen ? " 
 
 And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : 
 " Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems 
 Should blind my purpose, for I never saw. 
 Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till I die. 
 So great a miracle as yonder hilt. 
 Then Avith both hands I flung him, wheeling him ; 
 But when I look'd again, behold an arm. 
 Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, 
 That caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him 
 Three times, and drew him under in the mere." 
 
 And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard : 
 " My end draws nigh ; 'tis time that I were gone ; 
 Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight. 
 And bear me to the margin, yet I fear 
 My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die." 
 
 So saying, from the pavement he half rose. 
 Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm, 
 And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes 
 As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere 
 Then took with care, and kneeling on one knee, 
 O'er both his shoulders drew the languid hands, 
 And rising bore him thro' the place of tombs. 
 
 But, as he walked, King Arthur panted hard. 
 Muttering and murmuring at his ear, " Quick, quick ! 
 I fear it is too late, and I shall die." 
 But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 55 
 
 And on a sudden, lo ! the level lake, 
 And the long glories of the winter moon. 
 
 Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge, 
 Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern, 
 Beneath them; and descending they were ware 
 
 That all the decks were dense Avith stately forms 
 Black stoled, black hooded, like a dream — by these 
 Three Queens with crowns of gold — and from 
 
 them rose 
 A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars. 
 
 Then murmur'd Arthur, " Place me in the barge," 
 
56 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 And to the barge they came. There those three 
 
 Queens 
 Put forth their hands, and took the King, and wept. 
 But she, that rose the tallest of them all 
 And fairest, laid his head upon her lap. 
 And loosed the shatter'd casque, and chafed his 
 
 hands. 
 And caird him by his name, complaining loud, 
 And dropping bitter tears against his brow. 
 So like a shatter'd column lay the King. 
 
 Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere : 
 " Ah ! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go ? 
 Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? 
 For now I see the true old times are dead, 
 When every morning brought a noble chance. 
 And every chance brought out a noble knight. 
 But now the whole Round Table is dissolved 
 Which was an image of the mighty world ; 
 And I, the last, go forth companionless, 
 And the days darken round me, and the years, 
 Among new men, strange faces, other minds." 
 
 And slowly answered Arthur from the barge : 
 " The old order changeth, yielding place to new, 
 And God fulfils himself in many ways. 
 I have lived my life, and that which I have 
 
 done 
 May He within Himself make pure ! but thou, 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 57 
 
 If thou shoiildst never see my face again, 
 
 Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by 
 
 prayer 
 Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy 
 
 voice 
 Rise like a fountain for me night and day : 
 But now farewell. I am going a long way 
 Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. 
 Where I will heal me of my grievous wound." 
 So said he, and the barge with oar and sail 
 Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted 
 
 swan 
 That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, 
 Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood 
 With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere 
 Revolving many memories, till the hull 
 Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn. 
 And on the mere the wailing died away. 
 
 — Abridged from TEiN'isrYSOi^. 
 
 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. 
 
 RoLAKD was the nephew of that noble King of 
 France (Charles the Great) known in history as 
 Charlemagne {pron. shar'le-man). The King had 
 taken him as a babe from his mother's arms, had 
 brought him up, and watched him as he grew to 
 
58 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 be the bravest knight and the staunchest captain 
 of the Frankish host. Happy was the King with 
 his nephew at his side, and happy was Roland to 
 fight the battles of his uncle. 
 
 For seven years the Franks had tarried in north- 
 ern Spain. Cit)^ after city had yielded to their arms, 
 but Saragossa still withstood them. In this fortress 
 
 the Moslem king Mar- 
 sir dwelt, plunged in 
 despair at the ruin 
 which was only too 
 sure to come. 
 
 ^^ What shall we do?" 
 said he to his nobles. 
 " We are too few to 
 give the great Charles 
 battle. What shall we 
 do to save our lives and lands ? " 
 
 Then spoke Blancandrin, a wily counselloi* : " We 
 must get rid of this proud conqueror. Since we 
 cannot drive him away, let us see if we cannot win 
 him with promises. Send an embassy to him, and 
 say we will give him treasure in gold and cattle ; 
 say we will do him vassal service ; say Ave will be 
 baptized ; promise anything that will cause him to 
 leave this land. He will want hostages for the 
 fulfilment of our promises. Send ten of our sons. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 59 
 
 Mine shall be of tlie number. Better that a score 
 of us should be childless than that we should lose 
 fair Spain." 
 
 King Marsir thought well of this advice, and 
 chose as messengers to Charles the King at Cordova, 
 Blancandrin and nine lords who were willing to 
 give their sons as hostages. 
 
 Cordova resounded with revelry. Not a pagan 
 remained in the city ; for all had either been slain 
 or had turned Christian. Charles sat with his 
 knights in a beautiful garden, beneath a pine tree 
 twined with brier roses. As in his chair of gold 
 he sat, huge of limb, hale of body, and noble of 
 countenance, he looked a hero indeed. 
 
 Here the messengers from the Moslem king 
 found him. They knew the king at once, and fell 
 at his feet. 
 
 Then spoke Blancandrin : '' God save the noble 
 King Charles ! My master prays for peace. The 
 gifts he offers are lions, bears, hounds, camels, and 
 falcons, hundreds in number, his treasure of jewels, 
 and of gold and silver as much as may be put in 
 fifty chariots drawn by four hundred nmles. Only 
 make peace, and return to your own fair court, and 
 my master will bow in vassalage, will hold all his 
 possessions subject to your will, and will adore the 
 God of the Christians." 
 
CO BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 The King heard the message, and pondered well 
 over it. Then said he : 
 
 " Your king is my enemy. How shall I be 
 assured that he will keep his pledges?" 
 
 " Great king," replied the messengers, " we offer 
 our children as hostages. Treat them tenderly. 
 Our king will visit your court to pay his homage 
 and his tribute." 
 
 Charles provided lodging and entertainment for 
 the embassy, and on the morrow they returned 
 home. He then called his knights to council. 
 With one voice they advised him to beware of the 
 Moslem king. 
 
 " Trust him not," said Roland. " Remember how 
 he slew the messengers sent on a peaceful errand. 
 Only this fortress stands out against our arms. 
 Lay siege to it; conquer the last stronghold of the 
 pagans ; so win Spain, and end this weary war." 
 
 But Ganelon, stepfather to Roland, drew near 
 and said : 
 
 " What more have we to gain by fighting ? Has 
 not the Moslem offered us his all ? What need is 
 there for fighting for that which is freely offered to 
 us ? Roland delights in battle for its own sake, and 
 cares little how many are slain, can he but add to 
 his renown." 
 
 Then the barons declared that Ganelon had 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 61 
 
 spoken well, and the king agreeing, there wanted 
 only the messenger to bear Charles's glove and staff 
 to the Moslem king in token of covenant. 
 
 Many offered to go, among them Roland, and his 
 companion Oliver. 
 
 Then the King said : " Noble Franks, choose me a 
 worthy man to bear my message to Marsir." 
 
 Roland answered : " Send Ganelon, my step- 
 father." The other nobles also cried out : '^ Send 
 Ganelon, for none is so cunning of speech as he." 
 
 Now, Ganelon was a coward 
 at heart, and was terrified at 
 being chosen messenger, for he 
 remembered the fate of those 
 who had gone on peaceful er- 
 rands to the Moslem. But the 
 choice could not be gainsaid. 
 The King drew oft' his glove, 
 and held it forth. As Ganelon 
 stooped to take it, it fell to the 
 ground. 
 
 '' This is surely an evil omen," 
 said the lords. But Ganelon picked up the glove 
 quickly, and said : " Fear not ; you shall all hear 
 from it." 
 
 Many of Ganelon's vassals would have gone with 
 him, but he forbade them all, saying : " It is better 
 
62 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 that one should die than many. Stay here, and if I 
 be slain, like the messengers who have gone before, 
 be loyal to my son Baldwin." 
 
 He then mounted his horse and rode on till he 
 overtook the pagan messengers. 
 
 Wily as was Blancandrin, equally so was Gane- 
 lon. They had not gone far together before each 
 thoroughly understood the other to be a rogue. 
 However, they became as friends, and planned 
 together. When they came to Saragossa, Blan- 
 candrin led Ganelon to the King, and said : " Most 
 worthy King, the answer to the message which you 
 sent by me to the great Charles will be given by 
 this noble lord." 
 
 Then Ganelon said : " God save the mighty King 
 Marsir ! This is the message from the great Charles : 
 If you and yours become Christian, you shall have 
 the half of Spain in vassalage. Otherwise we will 
 come suddenly, take your land by force, bring you 
 to court, and put you to death." 
 
 The color came and went in the monarch's face 
 as he listened to these words. Ganelon, seeing the 
 danger he was in, continued : 
 
 " Great King, you have heard the message. If 
 it be your will, let the bearer of it die." 
 
 Then cried Blancandrin : • ^^ Do the Frank no 
 harm ! He has promised to work in our interest." 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 63 
 
 " Good Sir Ganelon,'^ said the King, " I will give 
 you five hundred pieces of gold as a token of my 
 favor. But tell me, is not your king tired of war, 
 and satisfied with his riches ? He is now old, and 
 has fought, conquered, and heaped up wealth that 
 is beyond count." 
 
 " Charles has long been tired of war," answered 
 Ganelon, "but Roland, his captain, is covetous of 
 fame, and greedy of wealth. Were he and his 
 chosen companions but slain, the world would be 
 at peace. But they command the flower of the host 
 of France, full twenty thousand in number." 
 
 " Nevertheless," said the King, '' I have four hun- 
 dred thousand good men ; with these could I not 
 fight Charles ? " 
 
 " No," Ganelon answered. " Send back the host- 
 ages with me. Then will Charles gather up his 
 host and depart for his capital to await you. But 
 he will leave the rear-guard of twenty thousand, 
 under command of Roland, to follow after him. 
 Fall on these with your warriors. Let not one 
 escaj)e. Then will the power of Charles be broken, 
 for Roland is his right arm. Then it will be for 
 you to make the terms of peace, for Charles will 
 fight no more. The rear-guard will pass along the 
 narrow valley of Ronceval. There lie in wait for 
 them." 
 
64 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Then Marsir gave Gauelon rich presents of gold 
 and jewels, and promised ten mules' burden of gold 
 and silver, when Charles should sue for peace. 
 
 Ganelon returned to Charles with the news that 
 Marsir would embrace the Christian faith, and was 
 preparing to set out for the Frankish capital to 
 receive baptism; and that he would hold Spain 
 under oath of fealty to Charles. 
 
 Charles, confiding in Ganelon, then began his 
 march through the pass in the mountains, on his 
 return home. He gave the command of the rear- 
 guard to Roland and his companion Oliver, order- 
 ing them to hold the pass of Ronceval with twenty 
 thousand men, while he went on with the rest of 
 the army. 
 
 When Charles had passed into France, Marsir 
 rushed down with twenty thousand of his warriors 
 from the hills where, by Ganelon's advice, he had 
 lain in ambush, and attacked the rear-guard of the 
 Franks. The Frankish troops defended themselves, 
 and fighting like tigers, forced the Moslems to flee. 
 But a fresh body of fifty thousand Moslems then 
 appeared, and falling upon the Christians, who 
 were faint and exhausted with long fighting, cut 
 them down so that few escaped. Among these 
 were Roland and two other captains. 
 
 Roland, after the battle, ascended a lofty hill, to 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 65 
 
 view the Moslem army, and seeing some Christians 
 retreating by the Ronceval road, he blew his horn. 
 He was quickly joined by about a hundred of his 
 countrymen, and soon they were again in the midst 
 of the enemy, slashing and hewing with all their 
 might. Overcoming all opposition, Roland reached 
 
 the Moslem King and slew him. But by this time 
 most of the other Christians were slain, and Roland 
 himself was seriously wounded. 
 
 He now blew a loud blast on his horn, to sum- 
 mon to his assistance any Frank who might be con- 
 cealed in the adjacent woods, or to recall his friends 
 
 beyond the pass. This horn was endued with such 
 5 
 
ee BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 power, that all other horns were split by its sound. 
 With such vehemence did Roland blow it that he 
 burst the veins of his neck. The sound reached 
 the King's ears. Charles recognized it, and would 
 have rushed to his aid, but Ganelon dissuaded 
 him, saying : " Roland is, perhaps, pursuing some 
 wild beast, and the sound echoes through the 
 woods." 
 
 Charles, however, was not satisfied with Gane- 
 lon's explanation, and summoning his army he 
 marched back to Ronceval. The King himself 
 first discovered the hero, Roland, lying where he 
 had fallen. 
 
 '^ Oh, why did I leave thee here to perish ? " cried 
 Charles. " How can I survive thy death ? " 
 
 Thus did Charles mourn for Roland. He 
 caused the body to be embalmed with balsam, 
 myrrh, and aloes. The whole army Avatched it 
 that night, and the groves and valleys resounded 
 with wailing. 
 
 Charles pursued the Moslems, and overtook them 
 on the banks of the Ebro, feasting and rejoicing 
 over their success. Attacking them valiantly, he 
 slew many thousands, and dispersed the rest. 
 
 Then the King made strict inquiry into the 
 conduct of Ganelon. His guilt Avas clearly proved, 
 and he was executed as a traitor. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 67 
 
 THE BALLAD OF CHEVY CHASE. 
 
 [Chevy Chase is one of the most famous English ballads. It 
 was sung by minstrels all over England long before America was dis- 
 covered. In the time of Queen Elizabeth, Sir Philip Sidney said of this 
 ballad : '' I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found 
 not my heart moved more than with a trumpet." His praise caused the 
 song to take a form in which it still exists, with the quaint old spelling 
 of that time. The modern ballad, slightly abridged, is given here. 
 
 In the Memoirs of Carey, Earl of Monmouth, we are told that it was 
 the custom, in times of peace, for those living on either side of the 
 Cheviot Hills, which lie along the border line between England and 
 Scotland, to send to the Lord Warden of the other side for permission 
 to hunt within his territory. Should this permission not be asked, the 
 Lord Warden of the invaded border would not fail to interrupt the 
 sport and punish the hunters. In the ballad, Douglas was probably tHe 
 Scotch Lord Warden who resented the rudeness of Earl Percy in engag- 
 ing in a hunt in the Cheviots without his permission. 
 
 Though something like the events narrated in the ballad may have 
 occurred, the account of the battle is really a description of the battle 
 of Otterburn, which was fought in 1388. In that battle the Scotch won 
 a great victory, although Earl Douglas lost his life. Percy was not 
 killed, but his two sons were taken prisoners.] 
 
 God prosper long our noble King, 
 Our lives and safeties all ; 
 
 A woeful hunting once there did 
 In Chevy Chase befall. 
 
 I 
 
 The stout Earl of Northumberland 
 A vow to God did make, 
 
 His pleasure in the Scottish woods 
 Three summer days to take ; 
 
68 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 The chiefest harts in Chevy Chase 
 
 To kill and bear away. — 
 The tidings to Earl Douglas came 
 
 In Scotland, where he lay ; 
 
 Who sent Earl Percy present word 
 
 He would prevent his sport. 
 The English Earl, not fearing that, 
 
 Did to the woods resort. 
 
 With fifteen hundred bowmen bold. 
 
 All chosen men of might. 
 Who knew full well, in time of need. 
 
 To aim their shafts aright. 
 
 The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran. 
 
 To chase the fallow deer : 
 On Monday they began to hunt 
 
 Ere daylight did appear; 
 
 And long before high noon they had 
 
 A hundred fat bucks slain ; 
 Then, having dined, the drovers went 
 
 To rouse the deer again. 
 
 The hounds ran swiftly through the woods 
 
 The nimble deer to take ; 
 And with their cries the hills and dales 
 
 An echo shrill did make. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 69 
 
 Lord Percy to the quarry^ went 
 
 To view the slaughtered deer; 
 Quoth he, "Earl Douglas promised 
 
 This day to meet me here. 
 
 "If that I thought he would not come, 
 
 No longer would I stay." 
 With that a brave young gentleman 
 
 Thus to the earl did say : 
 
 " Lo ! yonder doth Earl Douglas come, 
 
 His men in armor bright ; 
 Full twenty hundred Scottish spears 
 
 All marching in our sight ; 
 
 "All men of pleasant Teviotdale, 
 
 Fast by the river Tweed." 
 "Then cease your sport," Early Percy said, 
 
 "And take your bows with speed. 
 
 "And now with me, my countrymen. 
 
 Your courage forth advance; 
 For there was never champion yet, 
 
 In Scotland or in France, 
 
 "That ever did on horseback come, 
 
 But, if my hap it were, 
 I durst encounter, man for man, 
 
 With him to break a spear." 
 
 * Heap of game killed. 
 
70 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Earl Douglas on a milk-white steed, 
 
 Most like a baron bold, 
 Rode foremost of the company, 
 
 Whose armor shone like gold. 
 
 " Show me," said he, '^ whose men ye be, 
 That hunt so boldly here ; 
 
 That, without my consent, do chase 
 And kill my fallow deer ! " 
 
 The man that first did answer make 
 
 Was noble Percy, he, — 
 Who said, " We list ^ not to declare. 
 
 Nor show whose men we be. 
 
 *^Yet will we spend our dearest blood 
 
 Thy chiefest harts to slay." 
 Then Douglas swore a ^ solemn oath, 
 
 And thus in rage did say : 
 
 '^Ere thus I will out-braved be, 
 
 One of us two shall die ! 
 I know thee well ! An earl thou art ; 
 
 Lord Percy, so am I ! 
 
 "But trust me, Percy, pity it were, 
 
 And great offence to kill 
 Any of these our guiltless men. 
 
 For they have done no ill. 
 
 * Choose. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 71 
 
 '^ Let thou and I the battle try, 
 
 And set our men aside." 
 "Accursed be he," Earl Percy said, 
 
 " By whom this is denied ! " 
 
 Then stepped a gallant esquire forth, 
 
 Witherington was his name. 
 Who said, " I would not have it told 
 
 To Henry our King for shame, 
 
 "That e'er my captain fought on foot. 
 
 And I stood looking on : 
 You be two earls," said Witherington, 
 
 " And I a 'squire alone : 
 
 "I'll do the best that do I may, 
 
 While I have power to stand; 
 While I have power to wield my sword, 
 
 I'll fight with heart and hand." 
 
 Our English archers bent their bows, 
 Their hearts were good and true ; 
 
 At the first flight of arrows sent. 
 Full fourscore Scots they slew. 
 
 Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent,* 
 
 As chieftain stout and good ; 
 As valiant captain, all unmoved. 
 
 The shock he firmly stood. 
 
 * Field. ' 
 
72 • BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 His host he parted had in three, 
 
 As leader ware and tried, 
 And soon his spearmen on their foes 
 
 Bore down on every side. 
 
 Throughout the English archery 
 They dealt full many a wound, 
 
 But still our valiant Englishmen 
 All firmly kept their ground : 
 
 And throwing straight their bows away, 
 They grasped their swords so bright : 
 
 And now sharp blows, a heavy shower. 
 On shields and helmets light. 
 
 At last these two stout earls did meet. 
 Like captains of great might ; 
 
 Like lions wild, they laid on load,* 
 And made a cruel fight. 
 
 " Yield thee. Lord Percy ! " Douglas said ; 
 
 "In faith I will thee bring 
 Where thou shalt high advanced be 
 
 By James, our Scottish King. 
 
 " Thy ransom I will freely give, 
 
 And thus report of thee : 
 Thou art the most courageous knight 
 
 That ever I did see." 
 
 * Attacked fiercely. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Y3 
 
 ''No, Douglas!" quoth Earl Percy then; 
 
 *' Thy proifer I do scoiii ; 
 I will not yield to any Scot 
 
 That ever yet was born ! " 
 
 With that there came an arrow keen 
 
 Out of an English bow, 
 Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart, 
 
 A deep and deadly blow : 
 
 Who never spoke more words than these: 
 '' Fight on, my merry men all ! 
 
 For why ? my life is at an end : 
 Lord Percy sees my fall," 
 
74 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Then leaning down, Earl Percy took 
 The dead man by the hand, 
 
 And said, " Earl Douglas, for thy life 
 Would I had lost my land ! 
 
 " Alas ! my very heart doth bleed 
 With sorrow for thy sake ; 
 
 For sure, a more redoubted knight 
 Mischance could never take." 
 
 A knight amongst the Scots there was. 
 Who saw Earl Douglas die. 
 
 And straight in wrath did vow revenge 
 Upon the Lord Percy : 
 
 Sir Hugh Montgomery he was called; 
 
 Who with a spear most bright, 
 Well mounted on a gallant steed, 
 
 Ran fiercely through the fight. 
 
 And, past the English archers all. 
 
 Without all dread or fear; 
 And through Earl Percy's body then 
 
 He thrust his hateful spear: 
 
 So thus did both these nobles die. 
 Whose courage none could stain. 
 
 An English archer then perceived 
 The noble earl was slain ; 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 75 
 
 He had a bow bent in his hand, 
 
 Made of a trusty tree; 
 An arrow of a cloth-yard ^ long 
 
 Up to the head drew he : 
 
 Against Sir Hugh Montgomery 
 
 So right the shaft he set, 
 The gray-goose wing that was thereon 
 
 In his heart's blood was wet. 
 
 The fight did last from break of day 
 
 Till setting of the sun ; 
 For when they rung the evening-bell 
 
 The battle scarce was done. 
 
 Of twenty hundred Scottish spears 
 
 Scarce fifty-five did flee : 
 Of fifteen hundred Englishmen 
 
 Went home but fifty-three. 
 
 God save our King, and bless this land 
 
 In plenty, joy, and peace ! 
 And grant, henceforth, that foul debate 
 
 'Twixt noblemen shall cease. 
 
 * Twenty-seven inches. 
 
76 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 DICK AVHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT. 
 
 About five hundred years ago, in a little vil- 
 lage not far from. London, there was a poor orphan 
 boy named Dick Whittington. How he lived few 
 knew, and nobody cared ; but though no one cared 
 for him, he was honest and truthful and did nothing 
 of which he need be ashamed. 
 
 In return for what little work he was able to 
 do, he would receive a meal and a lodging, or 
 even a cast-off garment, and so he managed to 
 exist. 
 
 Ragged and neglected as he was, however, he 
 was brighter than many a boy well clothed and 
 fed. He learned of the great city which was near, 
 and the stories he heard were made brighter by 
 his imagination. The great wealth of the city, 
 the fine houses, the beautiful streets, and the richly 
 dressed people lost none of their splendor in the 
 mind of the little country lad. 
 
 Little Dick dreamed of all these fine things till 
 at last he came to think that the streets of Lon- 
 don were paved Avith gold, and that he had only 
 to reach the city to make his fortune. 
 
 The men with whom he sometimes talked 
 amused themselves with the lad, and told him 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Y7 
 
 stories which fired his imagination all the more. 
 Nothing would now do for Dick but to go to 
 London. Could he only reach the city, all his 
 troubles would be over, and he would be as fine 
 a gentleman as any in the land. 
 
 But how was he to get there ? He was but a 
 little fellow, and he did not know the way. One 
 day he met a man who was going to London in 
 
 a wagon, and when Dick 
 begged to go along, he 
 was overjoyed to be al- 
 lowed to walk by the 
 side of the wagon all the 
 way. 
 
 " How kind the wag- 
 oner is to me ! " thought 
 Dick. " Now I shall soon 
 Some time I shall come 
 back here, and how^ the people will stare when 
 they see me in my fine clothes ! " 
 
 The way did not seem long to Dick, for his 
 mind continually dwelt on the great things he 
 would do. At last London came into view, and 
 the wagoner whipped up his horses and was away 
 before Dick could persuade himself that the golden 
 city was at hand. He looked about him, but no 
 sign of gold was anywhere to be seen. The 
 
 be as good as anyone. 
 
78 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 streets were even dirtier than those of his native 
 village, and the people were stranger and more 
 uncivil than any he had met before. 
 
 He wandered about in his disappointment, vainly 
 looking for something to prove to him that he had 
 not been mistaken in what he had imagined the 
 great city to ' be. But, alas ! how he had deceived 
 himself. 
 
 Wearied with his long walk, and weak from 
 hunger, Dick accosted several people and begged 
 them to give him something in charity. Some 
 only stared at him, while others roughly bade 
 him let them alone. One man, annoyed at the 
 request of the lad, gave him a blow which cut 
 his head and caused the blood to trickle down 
 his face. 
 
 At last, fainting with hunger and loss of blood, 
 poor Dick lay down at the cloorstep of a rich 
 merchant; but he was rudely awakened by a ser- 
 vant, who threatened to scald him if he did not 
 move on. He managed to get on his feet just as 
 the merchant, Mr. Fitz warren, came up. He be- 
 gan to ask some questions, but before the boy 
 could answer he fell fainting at the feet of the 
 merchant. 
 
 Mr. Fitzwarren immediately ordered the servants 
 to take the boy into the house and put him to 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 79 
 
 bed. Here he was fed and cared for, and when 
 he had fully recovered he was delighted to learn 
 that he was to be employed by his benefactor. 
 To be sure, the work was not very pleasant, for 
 he had to help the cook, who disliked him from 
 the moment she saw him at the doorstep. No 
 work was too mean for him, and when she could 
 And nothing for him to do, she beat him with any- 
 thing she could lay hold of. At last, news of poor 
 Dick's ill treatment reached Miss Alice, the mas- 
 ter's young daughter, and she gave strict orders 
 that he should no longer be abused. 
 
 But Dick's misery was not confined to the kitchen. 
 When at night he was able to escape the cook's 
 abuse and go to bed, he had to encounter a new 
 terror. The garret in which he slept was so in- 
 fested with rats and mice that he was kept awake 
 the greater part of the night. They would run over 
 him in bed, and they seemed to grow bolder as time 
 Avore on. He used to long for the morning, even 
 though it was but the dawn of another day of abuse 
 in the kitchen. 
 
 One day a gentleman who visited Mr. Fitzwar- 
 ren's house gave Dick a penny. This the lad put 
 in his pocket and kept securely, for it was the first 
 piece of money he had ever had. Visions of the 
 wealth that would come to him tlirougli profitable 
 
80 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 investment danced before liis eyes. He must begin 
 prudently, lie thought, for everything depends on the 
 success of the first investment. Just then he spied 
 a woman in the street with a cat under her arm. 
 The thoughts of his misery at night put to flight 
 all his dreams of wealth, for there was the animal 
 that would drive away the rats and mice. Without 
 further thought, he ran up to the woman and asked 
 her if she would sell her cat for a penny. She 
 laughed at Dick for thinking that her cat could be 
 bought for such a sum ; but he begged piteously, 
 telling her that he was in sore need of a cat, and 
 had only a penny in the world. She then let him 
 have the animal. 
 
 Dick thanked the woman for her kindness, and 
 ran off with his prize to the garret. The cat soon 
 killed or frightened away the rats and the mice, so 
 that the poor boy could now sleep in j)eace. 
 
 One day, Mr. Fitzwarren called his servants 
 together, and announced to them that he was about 
 to send a ship on a trading voyage, and, according 
 to his custom, every one of the servants might 
 venture something. Each article was to be traded 
 for the sole benefit of the sender, wi^out any 
 charge being made for freight or commission. 
 
 All the servants were present except poor Whit- 
 tington. Miss Alice, noticing his absence and 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 81 
 
 knowing that his poverty kept him away, ordered 
 j him to be called. 
 
 Dick came, and when asked to venture some- 
 thing in the expedition knew not what to say, for he 
 had neither money nor goods. Miss Alice offered 
 ' to contribute something in his name, but the mer- 
 chant would not permit this. Dick felt his poverty 
 I as never before, and he could not think of a single 
 thing that he had worth venturing. But suddenly 
 he remembered his cat. The rats and mice had all 
 disappeared, and Puss was getting fat from laziness. 
 " But surely," he thought, " she has earned the right 
 to be idle." 
 
 " Come, come, Dick ! " said Mr. Fitzwarren sud- 
 denly ; " what are you dreaming about ? " 
 
 Before Dick could think, he quickly answered : 
 " Only about my cat." 
 
 " Your cat ? " exclaimed several. 
 
 ^^Yes, my cat, that I bought for a penny, and 
 that has driven away all the rats and mice that used 
 to annoy me so," replied Dick. 
 
 '' Fetch the cat, boy," said the merchant, " and 
 send her." 
 
 Whittington brought poor Puss and delivered 
 her over to the captain of the merchant's vessel. 
 
 " There," said he with tears in his eyes, " now the 
 rats and mice will annoy me as much as ever." 
 6 
 
82 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Everybody laughed at the poor fellow except 
 Miss Alice, and she in pity gave him some money 
 and told him to buy another cat. 
 
 While Puss was at sea, poor Dick was enduring 
 great torment at the hands of the cook. She was 
 too much afraid of her master and Miss Alice to 
 beat the boy, but she did not hesitate to scold him 
 and to abuse him with her tongue. 
 
 At last Dick determined to run away. Having 
 packed up the few things he had, he set out 
 very early one morning. He had travelled quite 
 a distance, and was sitting down on a stone to rest 
 and to consider what course he should take, 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 83 
 
 when Bow * Bells began to ring. They seemed 
 to speak to him and to say : 
 
 ^' Turn again, Whitfcington, 
 Thrice Lord Mayor of London.'' 
 
 " Lord Mayor of London ! " said he to himself. 
 " That is worth going back for. What wouldn't 
 one endure to be Lord Mayor of London, and 
 ride in the great state coach? Why, this would 
 be even better than my old dreams. Think of 
 going back to the village as Lord Mayor ! Well, 
 I'll go back to Mr. Fitz warren's, and the cook 
 may pummel and abuse me as much as she 
 pleases." 
 
 So back he went, and reached his garret before 
 anyone noticed that he had been away. 
 
 But how fared the expedition in which Mr. 
 Fitzwarren and his servants had ventured so 
 much ? 
 
 The ship which had the cat on board encountered 
 rough weather, and at last, by contrary winds, was 
 driven out of her course on a part of the coast of 
 Barbary which was inhabited by Moors. These 
 people received the seamen kindly, and the captain, 
 in order to trade with them, showed the samples 
 
 * The celebva,ted chimes of the Church of St. Mary-le-Bow, London. 
 
84 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 of the goods he had on board, and sent some to 
 the king of the country. His Majesty was so 
 well pleased that he sent for the officers of •the 
 vessel and invited them to his palace. Here they 
 were received, according to the custom of the 
 country, on rich carpets, embroidered with gold 
 and silver. The king and queen having taken seats 
 at the upper end of the room, dinner was brought 
 in ; but no sooner were the dishes placed before 
 them than an amazing number of rats and mice 
 came from all quarters, and devoured the food. 
 
 The captain, in surprise, turned to the nobles, 
 and asked why these vermin were permitted to 
 infest the palace. They said : '^ The king would 
 give half his treasure to be freed from them, for 
 they not only destroy his dinner, but attack him 
 even in bed, so that he has to be watched while 
 he is sleeping, and we have found no means of 
 destroying them." 
 
 The captain jumped for joy; he remembered 
 poor Whittington and his cat, and told the king 
 he had a creature on board the ship that would 
 despatch all these vermin immediately. The king 
 was so joyed at this news that his turban dropped 
 off his head. '' Bring this creature to me," said 
 he ; " and if it will perform what you say, I will 
 load your ship with gold and jewels in exchange." 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 85 
 
 The captain, who was a shrewd trader, at once 
 beean to set forth the merits of Dick's cat. He 
 told his majesty that it would be inconvenient to 
 part with her, as, when she was gone, the rats and 
 mice might destroy the goods in the ship ; but to 
 oblige his majesty he would fetch her. " Run, run," 
 said the queen ; " I am impatient to see the dear 
 creature." 
 
 Away went the captain to his ship, and the 
 king's cooks meanwhile prepared another dinner. 
 It had just been placed before tlie guests, and the 
 rats and mice were about to devour it as before, 
 when the captain returned Avitli the cat in his 
 arms. She sprang upon the largest rat and killed 
 it before the king could realize what had happened, 
 while the other rats at the very sight of her fled in 
 terror to their holes. 
 
 The king rejoiced greatly to see his old enemies 
 driven away, and the queen was so pleased that 
 she desired to have the cat near her. Hereupon 
 the captain called the cat, and she came to him. 
 He then presented her to the queen. 
 
 The cat was put down on the queen's lap, where, 
 after playing with her majesty's hand, she purred 
 herself to sleep. 
 
 The king now began to bargain with the captain 
 for the ship's whole cargo, and then gave ten times 
 
86 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 as muoli for the cat as for all the rest. After 
 staying a few days at the court, the captain and 
 the oflScers took leave of their majesties, and sailed 
 with a fair wind for England. The return voyage 
 was favorable, and they soon -reached home. 
 
 One morning, Mr. Fitzwarren had just entered 
 the counting-house and seated himself at his desk, 
 when he heard a tap, tap, at the door. "Who's 
 there ? " said Mr. Fitzwarren. " A friend," answered 
 the other. "I come to bring you good news of 
 your ship." The merchant hastened to open the 
 door. Who should be there ^ 
 
 waiting but the captain, 
 with a cabinet of jewels 
 and a bill of lading for the 
 goods he had received in 
 trade. Then the captain 
 related the adventures of 
 his voyage, and showed the 
 cabinet of jewels which he 
 had received for Dick's 
 cat. Upon this Mr. Fitzwarren rang for his foot- 
 man and told him to call Dick, crying out with 
 great earnestness, as the story-writers of that time 
 tell us : 
 
 '^Go send him in, and tell him of his fame, 
 And call him Mr. Whittington by name.'^ 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 87 
 
 Some one who was present told the merchant 
 that this treasure was too much for such a lad 
 as Dick ; but he said, with great earnestness : 
 " God forbid that I should deprive the poor boy 
 of a penny ; it is his own, and he shall have it to 
 a farthing." Dick came in, thinking it was in- 
 tended to make sport of him, as had been too often 
 the case in the kitchen ; so he besought his master 
 not to mock a poor simple fellow who intended 
 no harm, but let him go about his business. The 
 merchant, taking him by the hand, said : " Indeed, 
 Mr. Whittington, I am in earnest with you, and I 
 want to congratulate you on your great success. 
 Your cat has procured you more money than all I 
 am w^orth in the world, and may you long enjoy it 
 and be happy ! " 
 
 Being shown the treasure, and convinced at 
 length that all of it belonged to him, he fell upon 
 his knees and thanked the Almighty for his provi- 
 dential care. He then laid all the treasure at his 
 master's feet. Mr. Fitzwarren refused to take any 
 part of it, but said that he rejoiced heartily at 
 Dick's prosperity, and hoped the wealth he had 
 acquired would be a comfort to him, and would 
 make him happy. Dick then applied to his mis- 
 tress, and to his good friend Miss Alice, who 
 X'efused to take any part of the money. He gave 
 
88 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 a valuable present to the captain and all the 
 ship's crew for the care they had taken of his 
 cat. He likewise distributed presents to all the 
 servants in the house, not forgetting even his old 
 enemy the cook, though she little deserved any- 
 thing good at his hands. 
 
 After this, Mr. Fitzwarren advised Mr. Whit- 
 tington to send for a proper outfit and dress him- 
 self like a gentleman, and invited him to remain 
 as a guest till he could provide himself with a 
 suitable home. 
 
 Now, when Mr. Whittington's face was washed, 
 his hair curled, and ha was dressed in a rich suit 
 of clothes, he was a fine-looking young fellow ; and, 
 as wealth contributes much to give a man confi- 
 dence, he soon acquired 
 the manner of a gentle- 
 man of that time. He 
 grew to be a sprightly 
 and good companion, 
 and Miss Alice, who 
 had formerly pitied 
 him, now fell in love 
 with him. 
 
 When her father per- 
 ceived this, he proposed a match between them, 
 to w^hich both parties cheerfully consented, and the 
 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 89 
 
 Lord Mayor, the Aldermen, the Sheriffs, the Com- 
 pany of Stationers, the Royal Academy of Arts, 
 and a number of eminent merchants attended the 
 marriage ceremony, and were entertained at a mag- 
 nificent ^^edding feast. Dick and his wife lived 
 very happily together to a good old age. Mr. Whit- 
 tington served as Sheriff of London, and was three 
 times Lord Mayor. In the last year of his mayor- 
 alty he entertained King Henry V. and his queen, 
 after his return from France. Upon this occa- 
 sion the king, in consideration of Whittington's 
 merit, said : " Never had prince such a subject." 
 To this Whittington replied : " Never had subject 
 such a king." His majesty, out of respect for the 
 good character of Mr. Whittington, conferred the 
 honor of knighthood on him. 
 
 His early poverty made Sir Richard ever active in 
 charity and in public works. No person in distress 
 ever applied to him in vain for assistance. For many 
 years before his death he daily fed a great number 
 of poor citizens. His public spirit was remarkable. 
 He built a church and a college, with a yearly allow- 
 ance for poor scholars, and erected a hospital near 
 by. He also gave liberally to St. Bartholomew's 
 Hospital, and to other public charities. The city 
 of London, and even King Henry himself, received 
 assistance from him in times of financial trouble. 
 
90 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 
 
 It was upon an April morn, 
 While yet the frost lay hoar, 
 
 We heard Lord James's bugle horn 
 Sound by the rocky shore. 
 
 Then down we went, a hundred knights, 
 
 All in our dark array, 
 And flung our armor in the ships 
 
 That rode within the bay. 
 
 We spoke not as the shore grew less, 
 But gazed in silence back. 
 
 Where the long billows swept away 
 The foam behind our track. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 91 
 
 And aye the purple hues decay'd 
 
 Upon the fading hill, 
 
 And but one heart in all that ship 
 
 Was tranquil, cold, and still. 
 
 The good Lord Douglas walk'd the deck. 
 
 And oh, his brow was wan ! 
 Unlike the flush it used to wear 
 
 When in the battle van. — 
 
 " Come hither, come hither, my trusty knight. 
 
 Sir Simon of the Lee ; 
 There is a freit ^' lies near my soul 
 
 I fain would tell to thee. 
 
 " Thou knowest the Avords King Robert spoke 
 
 Upon his dying day. 
 How he bade me take his noble heart 
 
 And carry it far away ; 
 
 " And lay it in the holy soil 
 
 Where once the Saviour trod. 
 Since he might not bear the blessed Cross, 
 
 Nor strike one blow for God. 
 
 "Now, by thy knightly faith, I pray, 
 
 Sir Simon of the Lee — 
 For truer friend had never man 
 
 Than thou hast been to me — 
 
 * Pronounced /re^, a foreboding of good or evil. 
 
92 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 ^*'If ne'er upon the Holy Land 
 
 'Tis mine in life to tread, 
 Bear thou to Scotland's kindly earth 
 
 The relics of her dead." 
 
 The tear was in Sir Simon's eye 
 As he wrung the warrior's hand : — 
 
 " Betide me weal, betide me woe, 
 I'll hold by thy command. 
 
 '' But if in battle front, Lord James, 
 *Tis ours once more to ride. 
 
 Nor force of man, nor craft of fiend, 
 Shall cleave me from thy side ! " 
 
 And aye we sail'd, and aye we sail'd. 
 
 Across the weary sea, 
 Until one morn the coast of Spain 
 
 Rose grimly on our lee. 
 
 And as we rounded to the port. 
 Beneath the watch-tower's wall, 
 
 We heard the clash of the atabals,"^ 
 And the trumpet's wavering call. 
 
 " Why sounds yon Eastern music here 
 
 So wantonly and long. 
 And whose the crowd of armed men 
 
 That round yon standard throng ? " 
 
 * Small Moorish drums. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 93 
 
 " The Moors have come from Africa 
 
 To spoil, and waste, and slay, 
 And King Alonzo of Castile 
 
 Must fight with them to-day." 
 
 " Now shame it were," cried good Lord James, 
 
 " Shall never be said of me 
 That I and mine have turn'd aside, 
 
 From the Cross in jeopardie ! 
 
 " Have down, have down, my merry men all — 
 
 Have down unto the plain; 
 We'll let the Scottish lion loose 
 
 Within the fields of Spain ! " 
 
 " Now welcome to me, noble lord. 
 
 Thou and thy stalwart power; 
 Dear is the sight of a Christian knight 
 
 Who comes in such an hour ! 
 
 " Is it for bond or faith ye come. 
 
 Or yet for golden fee ? 
 Or bring ye France's lilies here, 
 
 Oi* the flower of Burgundie ? " 
 
 " God greet thee well, thou valiant King, 
 
 Thee and thy belted peers — 
 Sir James of Douglas am I called. 
 
 And these are Scottish spears. 
 
94 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 "We do not fight for bond or pligH 
 
 Nor yet for golden fee; 
 But for the sake of our blessed Lord, 
 
 Who died upon the tree. 
 
 " We bring our great King Robert's heart 
 
 Across the weltering wave, 
 To lay it in the holy soil 
 
 Hard by the Saviour's grave. 
 
 "True pilgrims we, by land or sea, 
 Where danger bars the way ; 
 
 And therefore are we here. Lord King, 
 To ride with thee this day ! " 
 
 The King has bent his stately head. 
 And the tears were in his eyne^: — 
 
 " God's blessing on thee, noble knight. 
 For this brave thought of thine ! 
 
 "I know thy name full well, Lord James, 
 
 And honour'd may I be, 
 That those who fought beside the Bruce 
 
 Should fight this day for me ! 
 
 "Take thou the leading of the van. 
 And charge the Moors amain ; 
 
 There is not such a lance as thine 
 In all the host of Spain ! " 
 
 * Eyes. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 The Douglas turned towards us then, 
 O but his glance was high ! — 
 
 "There is not one of all my men 
 But is as bold as I. 
 
 95 
 
 "There is not one of all my knights 
 But bears as true a spear — 
 
 Then onwards ! Scottish gentlemen, 
 And think — King Robert's here." 
 
96 BALLADS ANI) 'TALES. 
 
 The trumpets blew, the cross-bolts flew, 
 The arrows flashed like flame, 
 
 As, spur in side and spear in rest. 
 Against the foe we came. 
 
 And many a bearded Saracen 
 
 Went down, both horse and man ; 
 
 For through their ranks we rode like corn, 
 So furiously we ran ! 
 
 But in behind our path they closed. 
 Though fain to let us through, 
 
 For they were forty thousand men. 
 And we were wondrous few. 
 
 We might not see a lance's length. 
 
 So dense was their array, 
 But the long fell sweep of the Scottish blade 
 
 Still held them hard at bay. 
 
 " Make in ! make in ! " Lord Douglas cried, 
 
 " Make in, my brethren dear ! 
 Sir William of Saint Clair is down. 
 
 We may not leave him here ! " 
 
 But thicker, thicker, grew the swarm. 
 
 And shar]3er shot the rain. 
 And the horses reared amid the press, 
 
 But they would not charge again. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 97 
 
 "Now Heaven telp thee," said Lord James,' 
 " Thou kind and true Saint Clair ! 
 
 An' if I may not bring thee off, 
 ril die beside thee there!" 
 
 Then in his stirrups up he stood, 
 
 So lionlike and bold, 
 And held the precious heart aloft. 
 
 All in its case of gold. 
 
 He flung it from him, far ahead, 
 
 And never spake he more. 
 But, "Pass thee first, thou dauntless heart. 
 
 As thou wert wont of yore ! " 
 
 The roar of fight rose fiercer yet, 
 
 And heavier still the stour,^ 
 Till the spears of Spain came shivering in 
 
 And swept away the Moor. 
 
 "Now praised be God, the day is won! 
 
 They fly o'er flood and fell — 
 Why dost thou draw the rein so hard, 
 
 Good knight that fought so well ? " 
 
 " Oh, ride ye on. Lord King ! " he said, 
 
 "And leave the dead to me, 
 For I must keep the dreariest watch 
 
 That ever I shall dree ! f 
 
 * Conflict. t Endure. 
 
 7 
 
98 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 "There lies, beside his master's heart, 
 
 The Douglas, stark and grim, 
 And woe is me I should be here, 
 
 Not side by side with him ! 
 
 ^^And Scotland, thou may'st veil thy head 
 
 In sorrow and in pain ; 
 The sorest stroke upon thy brow 
 
 Hath fallen this day in Spain ! " 
 
 We bore the good Lord James away, 
 And the priceless heart he bore, 
 
 And heavily we steered our ship 
 Towards the Scottish shore. 
 
 No welcome greeted our return, 
 
 Nor clang of martial tread, ]Yc ^ 
 
 But all were dumb and ^. f^i!'(| j;'"' f '• r^_ 
 
 hushed as death 
 Before the mighty 
 dead. 
 
 We laid our chief in 
 
 Douglas Kirk, "^ 
 The heart in fail 
 Melrose ; 
 And woeful men were we that day- 
 God grant their souls repose ! 
 
 — William Edmoistdstoune Aytoun. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 09 
 
 THE STORY OF MACBETH. 
 I. The Witches Greet Him. 
 
 There was once a king of Scotland called Dun- 
 can, a very good old man. He had two sons ; one 
 was called Malcolm, and the other Donaldbane. 
 But King Duncan was too old to lead out his army 
 to battle, and his sons were too young to help him. 
 
 Now it happened, in King Duncan's time, that a 
 great fleet of Danes came to Scotland and landed 
 their men in Fife, and threatened to take possession 
 of that province. So a numerous Scottish army 
 was levied to go to fight against them. The King, 
 as I have Just said, was too old to command his 
 army, and his sons were too young. He therefore 
 sent out one of his near relations, called Macbeth, 
 who was the son of the Thane of Glammis. The 
 governors of provinces were at that time, in Scot- 
 land, called thanes ; they were afterwards termed 
 earls. 
 
 This Macbeth, who was a brave soldier, put him- 
 self at the head of the Scottish army, and marched 
 against the Danes. And he carried with him a 
 relation of his own, called Banquo, who was Thane 
 of Lochaber, and was also a very brave man. So 
 
100 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 there was a great battle fought between the Danes 
 and the Scots ; and Macbeth and Banquo, the Scot- 
 tish generals, defeated the Danes, and drove them 
 back to their ships, leaving a great many of their 
 soldiers both killed and wounded. Then Macbeth 
 and his army marched back to a town in the north 
 of Scotland, called Forres, rejoicing on account of 
 their victory. 
 
 Now there lived at this time three old women in 
 the town of Forres, whom people looked upon as 
 witches, and supposed they could tell what was to 
 come to pass. Nobody would believe such folly 
 nowadays, except low and ignorant creatures, such 
 as those who consult gypsies in order to have their 
 fortunes told ; but in those early times the people 
 were much more ignorant, and even great men, like 
 Macbeth, believed that such persons as these witches 
 of Forres could tell what was to come to pass after- 
 wards, and listened to the nonsense they told them 
 as if the old women had really been prophetesses. 
 The old women saw that they were respected and 
 feared, so that they were tempted to impose upon 
 people, by pretending to tell what was to happen to 
 them ; and they got presents for doing so. 
 
 So the three old women went and stood by the 
 wayside, in a great moor or heath near Forres, and 
 waited till Macbeth came up. And then, stepping 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 101 
 
 before him as he was marching at the head of his 
 soldiers, the first woman said, " All hail, Macbeth — 
 hail to thee, Thane of Glammis." The second said, 
 " All hail, Macbeth — hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor." 
 Then the third, wishing to pay him a higher com- 
 pliment than the other two, said, " All hail, Mac- 
 beth, that shalt be King 
 of Scotland." Macbeth 
 was very much surprised 
 to hear them give him 
 these titles ; and while 
 he was wondering what 
 they could mean, Banquo 
 stepped forward, and 
 
 asked them whether they had nothing to tell 
 about him as well as about Macbeth. And they 
 said that he should not be so great as Macbeth, 
 but that, though he himself should never be a 
 king, yet his children should succeed to the throne 
 of Scotland, and be kings for a great number of 
 years. 
 
 Before Macbeth recovered from his surprise, there 
 came a messenger to tell him that his father was 
 dead, so that he was become Thane of Glammis by 
 inheritance. And there came a second messenger, 
 from the King, to thank Macbeth for the great vic- 
 tory over the Danes, and tell him that the Thane of 
 
102 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Cawdor had rebelled against the King, and that the 
 King had taken his office from him, and had sent to 
 make Macbeth Thane of Cawdor as well as of Glam- 
 mis. Thus the first two old women seemed to be 
 right in giving him those two titles. I dare say 
 they knew something of the death of Macbeth's 
 father, and that the government of Cawdor was 
 intended for Macbeth, though he had not heard of it. 
 However, Macbeth, seeing a part of their words 
 come to be true, began to think how he was to 
 bring the rest to pass, and make himself king, as 
 well as Thane of Glammis and Cawdor. Now Mac- 
 beth had a wife, who was a very ambitious, wicked 
 woman, and when she found out that her husband 
 thought of raising himself up to be King of Scot- 
 land, she encouraged him in his wicked purpose by 
 all the means in her power, and persuaded him that 
 the only Avay to get possession of the crown was to 
 kill the good old King Duncan. Macbeth w^as very 
 unwilling to commit so great a crime, for he knew 
 what a good sovereign Duncan had been; and he 
 recollected that he was his relation, and had been 
 always very kind to him, and had intrusted him 
 with the command of his army, and had bestowed 
 on him the government or thanedom of Cawdor. 
 But his wife continued telling him what a foolish, 
 cowardly thing it was in him not to take the oppor- 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 103 
 
 tunity of making himself King, when it was in his 
 power to gain what the witches promised him. So 
 the wicked advice of his wife, and the prophecy of 
 these wretched old women, at last brought Macbeth 
 to think of murdering his King and his friend. 
 The way in which he accomplished his crime made 
 it still more abominable. 
 
 II. Macbeth Becomes King. 
 
 Macbeth invited Duncan to come to visit him, at 
 a great castle near Inverness; and the good King, 
 who had no suspicions of his kinsman, accepted the 
 invitation very willingly. Macbeth and his lady 
 received the King and all his retinue with much ap- 
 pearance of joy, and made a great feast, as a subject 
 w^ould do to make his King welcome. About the 
 middle of tlie night, the King desired to go to his 
 apartment, and Macbeth conducted him to a fine 
 room which had been prepared for him. Now it 
 was the custom, in those barbarous times, that 
 wherever the King slept, two armed men slept in 
 the same chamber, in order to defend his person in 
 case he should be attacked by any one during the 
 night. But the wicked Lady Macbeth had made 
 these two watchmen drink a great deal of wine, and 
 had besides put some drugs into the liquor ; so that 
 
104 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 when they went to the King's apartment they both 
 fell asleep, and slept so soundly that nothing could 
 awaken them. 
 
 Then the cruel Macbeth came into King Duncan's 
 bedroom about two in the morning. It was a terri- 
 ble, stormy night ; but the noise of the wind and of 
 the thunder did not awaken the King, for he was 
 old, and weary with his Journey ; neither could it 
 awaken the two sentinels, who were stupefied with 
 the liquor and the drugs they had swallowed. 
 
 They all slept soundly. So Macbeth, having come 
 into the room and stepped gently over the floor, 
 took the two dirks which belonged to the senti- 
 nels, and stabbed poor old King Duncan to the 
 heart. Then Macbeth put the bloody daggers into 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 105 
 
 the hands of the sentinels, that it might appear as 
 if they had committed the murder. Macbeth was, 
 however, greatly frightened at what he had done, 
 but his wife made him wash his hands and go to 
 bed. 
 
 Early in the morning, the nobles and gentlemen 
 who attended on the king assembled in the great 
 hall of the castle, and there they began to talk of 
 what a dreadful storm it had been the night before. 
 But Macbeth could scarcely understand w^hat they 
 said, for he was thinking on something much worse 
 and more frightful than the storm, and was won- 
 dering what would be said when they heard of the 
 murder. They waited for some time ; but finding 
 the King did not come from his apartment, one of 
 the noblemen went to see whether he was well or 
 not. But when he came into the room, he found 
 poor King Duncan lying stiff and cold, and the 
 two sentinels both fast asleep. As soon as the 
 Scottish nobles saw this terrible sight, they were 
 greatly astonished and enraged ; and Macbeth made 
 believe as if he were more enraged than any of 
 them, and, drawing his sword, before any one could 
 prevent him, he killed the two attendants of the 
 King who slept in the bedchamber, pretending to 
 think they had been guilty of murdering King 
 Duncan. 
 
106 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 When Malcolm and Donaldbane, the two sons of 
 the good King, saw their father slain in this strange 
 manner within Macbeth's castle, they became afraid 
 that they might be put to death likewise, and fled 
 away out of Scotland ; for, notwithstanding all the 
 excuses which he could make, they still believed 
 that Macbeth had killed their father. Donaldbane 
 fled into some distant islands, but Malcolm, the 
 eldest son of Duncan, went to the court of Eng- 
 land, where he begged for assistance from the 
 English King, to place him on the throne of Scot- 
 land as his father's successor. 
 
 In the mean time, Macbeth took possession of the 
 kingdom of Scotland, and thus all his wicked wishes 
 seemed to be fulfilled. But he was not happy. He 
 began to reflect how wicked he had been in killing 
 his friend and benefactor, and how some other per- 
 son, as ambitious as he was himself, might do the 
 same thing to him. He remembered, too, that the 
 old women had said that the children of Banquo 
 should succeed to the throne after his death, and 
 therefore he concluded that Banquo might be 
 tempted to conspire against him, as he had him- 
 self done against King Duncan. The wicked always 
 think other people are as bad as themselves. In 
 order to prevent this supposed danger, Macbeth 
 hired ruffians to watch in a wood, where Banquo 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 107 
 
 and his son Fleance sometimes used to walk in tlie 
 evening, with instructions to attack them, and kill 
 both father and son. The villains did as they were 
 ordered by Macbeth ; but while they were killing 
 Banquo, the boy Fleance made his escape from 
 their wicked hands, and fled from Scotland into 
 Wales. And it is said that, long afterwards, his 
 children came to possess the Scottish crown. 
 
 Macbeth was not the more happy that he had 
 slain his brave friend and cousin, Banquo. He 
 knew that men began to suspect the wicked deeds 
 which he had done, and he was constantly afraid 
 that some one would put him to death as he had 
 done his old sovereign, or that Malcolm would 
 obtain assistance from the King of England, and 
 come to make war against him, and take from him 
 the Scottish kingdom. So, in this great perplexity 
 of mind, he thought he would go to the old women 
 whose words had first put into his mind the desire 
 of becoming a king. It is to be supposed that he 
 offered them presents, and that they were cunning 
 enough to study how to give him some answer 
 which should make him continue in the belief that 
 they could prophesy what was to happen in future 
 times. So they answered him that he should not 
 be conquered, or lose the crown of Scotland, imtil 
 a great forest, called Birnam Wood, should come 
 
108. BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 to attac]^ a strong castle situated on a high hill 
 called Dunsinane,* in which castle Macbeth com- 
 monly resided. Now, the hill of Diinsinane is 
 upon the one side of a great valley, and the forest 
 of Birnam is upon the other. There are twelve 
 miles' distance betwixt them ; and besides that, 
 Macbeth thought it was impossible that the trees 
 could ever come to the assault of the castle. He 
 therefore resolved to fortify his castle on the hill 
 of Dunsinane very strongly, as being a place in 
 which he would always be sure to be safe. For 
 this purpose he caused all his great nobility and 
 thanes to send in stones, and wood and other things 
 wanted in building, and to drag them with oxen up 
 to the top of the steep hill where he was building 
 the castle. 
 
 III. BiRis^AM Wood Comes to Dunsinane. 
 
 Now, among other nobles who were obliged to 
 send oxen, and horses, and materials to this labori- 
 ous w^ork, was one called Macduff, the Thane of Fife. 
 Macbeth was afraid of this thane, for he was very 
 powerful, and was accounted both brave and wise ; 
 and Macbeth thought he would most probably join 
 
 ^ In Scotland pronounced Dunsinnan. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 109 
 
 with Prince Malcolm, if e\^er lie should come from 
 England with an army. The King, therefore, had 
 a private hatred against the Thane of Fife, which 
 he kept concealed from all men, until he should 
 have some opportunity of putting him to death, as 
 he had done Duncan and Banquo. Macduff, on his 
 part, kept upon his guard, and went to the King's 
 court as seldom as he could, thinking himself never 
 safe unless while in his own castle of Kennoway, 
 which is on the coast of Fife, near to the mouth of 
 the Frith of Forth. 
 
 It happened, however, that the King had sum- 
 moned several of his nobles, and Macduff, the Thane 
 of Fife, amongst others, to attend him at his new 
 castle of Dunsinane ; and they were all obliged to 
 come — none dared stay behind. Now, the King 
 was to give the nobles a great entertainment, and 
 preparations were made for it. In the mean time, 
 Macbeth rode out with a few attendants, to see the 
 oxen drag the wood and the stones up the hill, for 
 enlarging and strengthening the castle. So they 
 saw most of the oxen trudging up the hill with 
 great difficulty (for the ascent is very steep), and 
 the burdens were heavy, and the weather was ex- 
 tremely hot. At length Macbeth saw a pair of 
 oxen so tired that they could go no farther up the 
 hill, but fell down under their load. Then the 
 
110 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 King was very angry, and demanded to know who 
 it was among his thanes that had sent oxen so weak 
 and so unfit for labor, when he had so much work 
 for them to do. Some one replied that the oxen 
 belonged to Macduff, the Thane of Fife. "Then," 
 said the King, in great anger, " since the Thane of 
 Fife sends such worthless cattle as these to do rny 
 labor, I will put his own neck into the yoke, and 
 make him drag the burdens himself." 
 
 There was a friend of Macduff who heard these 
 angry expressions of the King, and hastened to 
 communicate them to the Thane of Fife, who was 
 walking in the hall of the King's castle while din- 
 ner was preparing. The instant that Macduff heard 
 what the King had said, he knew he had no time to 
 lose in making his escape ; for whenever Macbeth 
 threatened to do mischief to any one, he was sure to 
 keep his word. 
 
 So Macduff snatched up from the table a loaf of 
 bread, called for his horses and his servants, and 
 was galloping back to his own province of Fife, 
 before Macbeth and the rest of the nobility were 
 returned to the castle. The first question which 
 the King asked was, what had become of Mac- 
 duff? and being informed that he had fled from 
 Dunsinane, he ordered a body of his guards to at- 
 tend him, and mounted on horseback himself to 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. Ill 
 
 pursue the thane, with the purpose of putting him 
 to death. 
 
 Macduff, in the mean time, fled as fast as horses' 
 feet coukl carry him ; but he was so ill provided 
 with money for his expenses, that, when he came 
 to the great ferry over the river Tay, he had noth- 
 ing to give to the boatmen Avho took him across, 
 excepting the loaf of bread which he had taken 
 from the King's table. The place was called, for a 
 long time afterwards, the Ferry of the Loal 
 
 When Macduff got into his province of Fife, 
 which is on the other side of the Tay, he rode on 
 faster than before, towards his own castle of Ken- 
 noway, w^hich, as I told you, stands close by the 
 sea-side ; and when he reached it, the King and 
 his guards were not far behind him. Macduff 
 ordered his wife to shut the gates of the castle, 
 draw up the drawbridge, and on no account to 
 permit the King or any of his soldiers to enter. 
 Having given this order, he went to the small 
 harbor belonging to the castle, and caused a ship 
 which was lying there to be fitted out for sea in all 
 haste, and got on board himself, in order to escape 
 from Macbeth. 
 
 In the mean time, Macbeth summoned the lady 
 to surrender the castle, and to deliver up her hus- 
 band. But Lady Macduff, who was a wise and a 
 
112 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 brave woman, made many excuses and delays, until 
 she knew that her husband was safely on board the 
 ship, and had sailed from the harbor. Then she 
 spoke boldly from the wall of the castle to the 
 King, who was standing before the gate still de- 
 manding entrance, with many threats of what he 
 would do if Macduff was not given up to him. , 
 
 " Do you see," she said, " yon white sail upon the 
 sea? Yonder goes Macduff to the court of Eng- 
 land. You will never see him again, till he comes 
 back with young Prince Malcolm, to pull you down 
 from the throne, and to put you to death. You 
 will never be able to put your yoke, as you 
 threatened, on the Thane of Fife's neck." 
 
 Some say that Macbeth was so much enraged at 
 this bold answer, that he and his guards attacked 
 the castle and took it, killing the brave lady and 
 all whom they found there. 
 
 There reigned at that time in England a very 
 good king, called Edward the Confessor. Prince 
 Malcolm, the son of Duncan, was at his court, 
 soliciting assistance to recover the Scottish throne. 
 The arrival of Macduff greatly aided the success of 
 his petition ; for the English King knew that 
 Macduff was a brave and a wise man. As he 
 assured Edward that the Scots were tired of the 
 cruel Macbeth, and would Join Prince Malcolm if 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 113 
 
 he were to return to his country at the head of an 
 army, the king ordered the Earl of Northumberland 
 to enter Scotland with a large force and assist 
 Prince Malcolm in the recovery of his father's 
 crown. 
 
 Then it happened just as Macduff had said; for 
 the Scottish thanes^ and nobles would not fight for 
 Macbeth, but joined Prince Malcolm and Macduff 
 against him ; so that at length he shut himself up 
 in his castle of Dunsinane, where he thought him- 
 self safe, according to the old women's prophecy, 
 until Birnam Wood should come against him. He 
 boasted of this to his followers, and encouraged 
 them to make a valiant defence/ assuring them of 
 certain victory. At this time Malcolm and Macduff 
 were come as far as Birnam Wood, and lay en- 
 camped there with their army. The next morning, 
 when they were to march across the broad valley 
 to attack the castle of Dunsinane, Macduff advised 
 that every soldier should cut down a bough of a 
 tree and carry it in his hand, that the enemy might 
 not be able to see how many men were coming 
 against them. 
 
 Now, the sentinel who stood on Macbeth's castle 
 wall, when he saw all these branches which the 
 soldiers of Prince Malcolm carried, ran to the 
 king, and informed him that the wood of Birnam 
 
114 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 was moving towards the castle of Dunsinane. The 
 Kino; at first called him a liar, and threatened to 
 
 put him to death ; but 
 when he looked from 
 the walls himself, and 
 saw the appearance of a 
 forest approaching from 
 Birnam, he knew the 
 hour of his destruction 
 was come. His follow- 
 ers, too, began to be 
 disheartened and to fly 
 from the castle, seeing their master had lost all hopes. 
 Macbeth, however, recollected his own bravery, 
 and sallied desperately out at the head of the few 
 followers who remained faithful to him. He was 
 killed, after a furious resistance, fighting hand to 
 hand with Macduff in the thick of the battle. 
 Prince Malcolm mounted the throne of Scotland, 
 and reigned long and prosperously. He rewarded 
 Macduff by declaring that his descendants should 
 lead the vanguard of the Scottish army in battle, 
 and place the crown on the king's head at the cere- 
 mony of coronation. King Malcolm also created 
 the thanes of Scotland earls, after the title of 
 dignity adopted in the court of England. 
 
 — Sir Walter Scott^ 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 115 
 
 O Adam Gordon's gloomy haunt 
 Prince Edward wound his way: 
 
 " And could I meet that bold outlaw 
 In the wold where he doth lay ! 
 
 "For he hath harried merry Hampshire, 
 And many a spoil possessed ; 
 
 A bolder outlaw than this wight 
 Ne'er trod by east or west. 
 
116 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 ^^And now come on, my merry men all, 
 
 Nor heed the dreary way; 
 For could I meet that bold outlaw 
 
 Full soon I would him slay." 
 
 Then spake a knight: "It may be long 
 
 Ere Gordon you shall find, 
 For he doth dwell in a weary haunt 
 
 Remote from humankind. 
 
 " Among the wolds and deep morass 
 
 His lodging he hath ta'en; 
 And never that wand'ring wight went in 
 
 That e'er came out again." 
 
 Prince Edward drew his dark-brown sword 
 And shook his shining lance : 
 
 "And rather I'd fight this bold outlaw 
 Than all the peers of France." 
 
 Prince Edward grasped his buckler strong 
 
 And proudly marched forth : 
 "And rather I'd conquer this bold outlaw 
 
 Than all the knights o' the north." 
 
 And then bespake a valiant knight : 
 " Now, prince, thy words make good. 
 
 For yonder I see that bold outlaw 
 A coming forth the wood." 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 117 
 
 Then quick the prince lit off his steed, 
 
 And onward wound his way ; 
 "Now stand ye by, my merry men all, 
 
 And ye shall see brave play." 
 
 Brave Adam o' Gordon saw the prince 
 
 As he came forth the wold, 
 And soon he knew him by his shield 
 
 And his banners all of gold. 
 
 " Arouse ! " he cried, " my merry men all, 
 And stand ye well your ground, 
 
 For yonder great Prince Edward comes. 
 For valor so renowned." 
 
 "Now, welcome, welcome, Adam Gordon; 
 
 I'm glad I have thee found. 
 For many a day I've sought for thee 
 
 Thro' all the country round." 
 
 "Now here I swear," brave Adam cried, 
 
 "Had I but been so told, 
 I would have met thee long ere now. 
 
 In city or in wold." 
 
 Oh ! then began as fierce a fight 
 
 As e'er was fought in field ; 
 The prince was stout, the outlaw strong. 
 
 Their hearts with courage steeled. 
 
118 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Full many a warrior stood around 
 
 That marvellous fight to see^ 
 While from their wounds the gushing blood 
 
 Ran like the fountain free. 
 
 Thrice they agreed, o'erspent with toil. 
 
 To cease their sturdy blows, 
 And thrice they stopped to quench their thirst 
 
 And wipe their bloody brows. 
 
 " Adam, thy valor charms my soul ; 
 
 I ever love the brave, 
 And tho' I fear not thy dread sword, 
 
 Thy honor I would save. 
 
 "Here, Gordon, do I plight my hand. 
 
 My honor and renown, 
 That if thou to my sword wilt yield 
 
 And my allegiance own ; 
 
 " But, more, if thou wilt be my friend. 
 
 And faithful share my heart, 
 I'll ever prove gentle unto thee — 
 
 We never more will part. 
 
 "Thou, in the raging battle's hour, 
 
 Shalt aye fight by my side, 
 And at my table and my court 
 
 In times of peace preside. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 119 
 
 "When prosperous fate shall gild my throne, 
 
 Thou shalt partake my joy; 
 When troubles lower, to soothe thy prince 
 
 Shall be thy sole employ. 
 
 " And I to thee the same will prove, 
 
 A gentle, bosom friend. 
 In Joy to share thy happiness, 
 
 In woe thy cares to attend. 
 
 " Now, Adam, take thy lasting choice ; 
 
 Thy prince awaits thy word : 
 Accept, brave man, my smile or frown, 
 
 My friendship or my sword." 
 
 Brave Adam, struck with wonder, gazed — 
 
 He sighed at every w^ord ; 
 Then, falling quick upon his knee. 
 
 He gave the prince his sword. 
 
 Upon the warrior's dark-brown cheek 
 
 A tear was seen to shine ; 
 He laid his hand upon his heart — 
 
 " Brave Edward, I am thine." 
 
 The pitying prince the warrior raised, 
 
 And pressed him to his heart ; 
 '^ Adam, thy prince will be thy friend — 
 
 We never more will part." 
 
120 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 A shouting from their followers by 
 Proclaimed the joyful sound; 
 
 The hills and woodlands, echoing loud, 
 Dispersed the tidings round. 
 
 The prince then made that brave outlaw 
 
 On his own steed to ride, 
 With banners rich and trappings gay. 
 
 And he rode by his side. 
 
 Where'er the royal Edward fought. 
 Brave Gordon aye would wend ; 
 
 And Edward, like a noble prince, 
 Was ever Gordon's friend. 
 
 — Evans's Collection. 
 
 WILLIAM TELL. 
 
 L 
 
 In the very heart of the little Republic of Swit- 
 zerland are three states or "cantons," w^hich are 
 known as Forest Cantons, and are famous in the 
 world's history. 
 
 When the Romans crossed the Alps about two 
 thousand years ago, thej^ found in these cantons a 
 hardy race of mountaineers, who, though only 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 121 
 
 peasants, were free men and proud of their inde- 
 pendence. The cantons became allies of Rome, and 
 in time part of the empire, but they retained the 
 right to elect their own officers every year and to 
 govern themselves. 
 
 The Roman Empire declined, the states of 
 Middle Europe fell into the power of many petty 
 princes, or were overrun by the barbarians, but 
 these three cantons remained free. They were of 
 too little importance to attract those who were con- 
 tending for possession of the rich valleys below. 
 Thus, for century after century, the mountaineers 
 lived and prospered in their simple way, undis- 
 turbed by the rest of the world. They tilled their 
 soil, tended their flocks, and w^ere content because 
 they were free. The young had no higher aim in 
 life than to imitate the virtues of their parents, and 
 the old were careful to instil into the young a love 
 of God, of home, and of liberty. 
 
 The Hapsburg family, whose home was in a can- 
 ton in the Rhine valley, grew very rich, and in time 
 acquired large tracts of land in the Forest Cantons 
 as well as elsewhere. 
 
 One of the Hapsburgs, named Albert, finally 
 became Duke of Austria. With his armies he 
 crushed out all resistance in the valley and made 
 his powder absolute. Learning that the people of 
 
122 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 the three Forest Cantons maintained their own 
 government and exulted in their freedom, he be- 
 lieved that his authority was defied. So he sent a 
 governor named Gessler with a large body of sol- 
 diers to bring the poor farmers and shepherds 
 under subjection. This man took up his abode at 
 Altorf, the principal village in the three cantons. . 
 
 Gessler was in every way fitted to be a tyrant ; he 
 had a restless spirit, a violent temper, and a soul 
 that delighted in deeds of cruelty. Under such a 
 man acts of tyranny were of e very-day occurrence. 
 If the people complained of any outrage committed 
 by the soldiers, the complaint was treated with de- 
 rision, if not punished as a crime. 
 
 Amono; the mountaineers none was hardier or 
 braver than William Tell. He was a head taller 
 than his tallest companions. His foot was as firm 
 as that of the chamois, which he delighted to chase 
 to the icy mountain-tops. So skilful was he with 
 the crossbow that no archer was bold enough to 
 compete with him. When the eagle had escaped 
 the shafts of his companions, his arrow would bring 
 down the noble bird. His stalwart figure and dig- 
 nified bearing overawed strangers, and it is said 
 that one of the duke's tax-collectors, meeting him on 
 a narrow mountain pass, crouched in a crevice of 
 the rocks and left the entire footpath for him. A 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 123 
 
 man like this was fitted to be a leader. His was the 
 
 mind that conceived a plan for freeing his country ; 
 
 his was the 
 
 voice that 
 
 roused his 
 
 countrymen 
 
 to action; 
 
 and his was 
 
 the arm that 
 
 struck the 
 
 first blow for 
 
 liberty. 
 
 From the 
 moment of 
 Gessler's ar- 
 rival Tell 
 foresaw the 
 misery that 
 was to follow. 
 He knew 
 there would 
 be work for 
 brave hearts 
 and willing 
 
 hands. He talked with some of the principal men of 
 the three cantons^ and to them he unfolded his plans. 
 Secret meetings were held^ and every effort was used 
 
124 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 to rouse from their despair his broken-hearted country- 
 men. Before a year had passed spears, swords, and bat- 
 tle-axes were secured and distributed, and the moun- 
 taineers only waited the signal from Tell to rise against 
 their oppressors. The Austrian tax-collectors in the 
 cantons had no suspicion of what was being done. 
 They looked upon the people as little more than cat- 
 tle, and incapable of taking up arms against the trained 
 troops of Austria, and, poor and needy as the moun- 
 taineers w^ere, there Avas not a traitor among them all. 
 Gessler himself felt secure in his tyranny. His 
 arrogance took such possession of him that he began 
 to insist on public honor being paid to his authority. 
 He placed his ^ hat on the top of a high pole in the 
 market-place at Altorf, and gave orders that every 
 one who passed should uncover the head and bend 
 the knee. ^^The least murmur," said the tyrant, 
 'Hhe smallest opposition, must be punished with 
 chains." The patriots were indignant, but they 
 submitted. They knew that the day for the upris- 
 ing was near at hand, and were all the more careful 
 to obey the orders of the tyrant. 
 
 n. 
 
 One day Tell came to Altorf, and entered the 
 market-place, holding his young son by the liand. 
 
 * According to some writers it was the duke's hat. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 125 
 
 The remarkable order of Gessler had not reached 
 Tell, and he knew not what to think as he saw the 
 soldiers guarding in silence the pole on which was 
 the embroidered hat of the tyrant; he was filled 
 with amazement. But when he saw the citizens of 
 Altorf bowing down before the hat and the soldiers 
 using their spears to force the citizens to bend still 
 lower, he could hardly I'estrain himself. 
 
 The guards soon noticed the man who alone stood 
 while all around knelt before the hat. They were 
 at his side in a moment. 
 
 "" Take off your cap ! " cried they, " and bend the 
 knee before the emblem of imperial power ! " 
 
 " I bend the knee to God alone, and His is the 
 only power that I adore," said Tell. 
 
 He was instantly seized, and his son was torn 
 from him. He was dragged before the governor, 
 and an account of the incident in the market-place 
 was given. Tell regarded his accusers with scorn, 
 and made no answer to their charges. His calm 
 demeanor and majestic appearance astonished and 
 appalled Gessler, who was seized with a presenti- 
 ment that the man standing before him had come to 
 avenge his crimes. He did not dare to speak, and 
 dreaded even to look at the prisoner. At last, see- 
 ing that his silence was noticed by the soldiers, he 
 made a great effort to recover himself, and said : 
 
126 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 " Why didst thou refuse to show me the respect 
 which is due me ? Speak, if thoa canst say aught 
 in thy defence, and remember that if I have the 
 power to punish I have also the power to pardon." 
 
 At these words Tell looked calmly at his ques- 
 tioner, and replied : 
 
 " Punish me, but ask me not to tell my thoughts. 
 Thou canst not listen to the truth." 
 
 " I can listen to the truth if it has aught to in- 
 struct me. Speak ! " said the governor. 
 
 " Listen, since thou hast commanded me to speak," 
 said Tell. " The cries of the innocent whom thou 
 hast punished, the voices of the widows and orphans 
 whose husbands and fathers have perished at thy 
 hands, have cried to Heaven for vengeance. The 
 Lord has prepared His thunderbolt. It will soon 
 strike thee, and my country shall be free. I have 
 refused to debase myself in the market-place before 
 the emblem of thy pride. Now I call thee tyrant 
 to thy face, and I await my death." 
 
 A dreadful silence succeeded Tell's words. Gess- 
 ler could scarcely believe his ears. 
 
 The tyrant soon roused himself, however, and 
 began to consider how he might humble the man 
 who had the hardihood to defy him to his face. 
 Such a man must be tortured in some extraordinary 
 way. So, instead of expressing any anger, Gess- 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 127 
 
 ler feigned admiration, and as if wishing to make a 
 friend of him, began to question him. Tell briefly 
 answered each question, and finally, when asked his 
 name, replied : " William Tell ! " That name, so 
 well known in Altorf, startled Gessler, but he con- 
 cealed his agitation. 
 
 ^^What!" said he; "art thou the Tell whose 
 skill in guiding a boat is so famous, and whose 
 arrow has never been known to miss its aim ? " 
 
 "I am he," replied Tell, ^^and I blush that my 
 name is known only for exploits of no value to 
 my country." 
 
 At this moment Tell's son was brought in, and 
 with a glad cry the boy sprang into his father's 
 arms. Here was Gessler's opportunity for the 
 fiendish vengeance he desired to wreak on the bold 
 patriot. • 
 
 " Listen to what 1 have determined," said Gessler. 
 "I desire, while punishing thy insolence, to pay a 
 tribute to that skill which is the pride of thy coun- 
 try. If thine arrow can at a hundred paces cleave 
 an apple on thy son's head, I will pardon thee, and 
 thou with thy son shalt go thy way. But if thou 
 refuse the trial, let both prepare for instant execu- 
 tion." 
 
 " I will not accept this trial ! " cried Tell. " Lead 
 me to death." 
 
128 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 " Not only thyself, but thy son as well," said the 
 tyrant. 
 
 " What ! kill this innocent boy ? What a fiend 
 thou art ! My boy ! O Gessler, hear me ! Thy 
 guards, the example of my poor countrymen, the 
 certainty of death, have not made me bow to the 
 emblem of thy power. But I am now ready to 
 prostrate myself before thee, tyrant as thou art, if 
 thou wilt spare my boy." 
 
 " Thou canst save both him and thyself," calmly 
 said the governor. 
 
 " And kill my boy with mine own hand ? Dost 
 thou think I could steadily aim the arrow at an 
 apple on the head of my boy, when a slight mis- 
 chance would cause his death ? " exclaimed Tell. 
 " Ah, no ! Kill me, but spare my son ! " 
 
 " Father," said the boy, " do not humble thyself 
 before this tyrant. I am willing to accept the trial, 
 for I trust thy skill. Heaven will direct thy hand, 
 and I shall not be injured. Let them lead us to 
 the spot, and thou shalt make the trial at once." 
 
 Tell gazed on his son for some time without a 
 word. Then suddenly raising his head, he turned 
 to Gessler and exclaimed : '^ I will obey ! Let me 
 make the trial at once ! " 
 
 Gessler made a sign, and the guards surrounded 
 the prisoners and prepared to lead them forth. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 129 
 
 III. 
 
 News of tlie terrible trial of skill had gone 
 abroad, and a great crowd assembled in the market- 
 place. The eyes of the women w^ere filled with 
 tears and the hearts of the men throbbed with sym- 
 pathy, but not a word came from their lips, as they 
 gazed on Tell and his boy. 
 
 The ground was quickly measured and a double 
 line of soldiers was drawn up. At the further end 
 of the space young Tell calmly knelt, and the apple 
 was placed on his head. Just behind Tell stood 
 Gessler, surrounded by his guards. 
 
 The patriot stood motionless as a statue. His 
 bow and one arrow were handed to him. He tried 
 the point and broke it. 
 
 " Bring my quiver," said he, " and let me select 
 my own arrow." 
 
 The quiver was brought and laid on the ground. 
 The despairing father, bending over, quickly con- 
 cealed an arrow in his bosom, and then, fitting an- 
 other to his bow, stood erect. 
 
 A hush fell on the multitude. 
 
 Twice he raised his bow to shoot, but each time 
 the sight of his boy's fair, young face unnerved his 
 arm. He tried to accustom his eye to look only at 
 
130 
 
 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 tlie apple and not at his boy. At last tlie moment 
 came when he saw only the apple. There was the 
 twang of a bowstring — the flash of an arrow through 
 the air — and the apple was pierced through the 
 
 core. The shout that rose from the crowd echoed 
 and re-echoed from the hills around. But Tell heard 
 nothing. He stood, unable to return the joyous 
 caresses of the boy, who had run to his father's arms. 
 Thinking his father was about to faint, the boy 
 loosened TelVs vest, and an arrow fell to the ground. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 131 
 
 Gessler's quick eye saw the arrow, and he thus ad- 
 dressed Tell : 
 
 " Thy countrymen have not too highly praised thy 
 skill. I shall keep my promise and set thee free. 
 But why didst thou conceal this arrow ? " 
 
 Tell had now recovered himself. At the tyrant's 
 voice, he turned and replied : 
 
 " Had my boy been slain, this arrow would have 
 pierced thy heart, thou tyrant ! " 
 
 Gessler stepped back in terror at these words, 
 and ordered Tell to be bound in chains and cast 
 into prison. The boy was torn from his father 
 and permitted to go free. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Young Tell, unable to join his father, was taken 
 in and cared for by some of the citizens of Altorf. 
 These people knew of the plans already set on foot 
 by Tell for the liberation of his country. They 
 knew that the patriots had agreed to arm themselves 
 and assemble on a given signal. 
 
 The usual mode of si^inallin^ from one mountain 
 settlement to another was to kindle a huge bonfire. 
 So a guide Avas appointed to go to Tell's village 
 with the boy, and light the signal-Are. This would 
 call the patriots to arms, and bring them to Altorf, 
 where they could overpower the guards and release 
 
132 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Tell. The boy, intelligent beyond his years, was 
 but too glad to accompany the guide. 
 
 After a tedious journey they arrived at Tell's 
 home. As soon as darkness fell the signal-fire was kin- 
 dled, and flame after flame in answer to the summons 
 blazed forth from the neighboring mountain-tops. 
 
 When the mountaineers saw the signal-lights 
 they thought the hour had come to strike a blow 
 for liberty. They had perfect confidence in Tell, 
 and believed the signal came from him. The men 
 on each separate mountain seized their arms and 
 hurried to their meeting-place. Soon in the gather- 
 ing darkness a band from every hamlet of the 
 three cantons began the march to Altorf. They 
 were clad in goat-skins, and armed only with spears 
 or crossbows ; but every man was a patriot and 
 every heart was strong with a resolve to drive the 
 hated Austrian from the land. 
 
 Gessler was soon warned of the danger that threat- 
 ened. His sentinels hurried to him with the news 
 that signal-fires were blazing on all the mountains. 
 He trembled for his own safety and for the control 
 of the province. 
 
 He decided to take advantage of the darkness 
 and to go at once in person for reinforcements, in- 
 tending to return and crush to the dust the people 
 who had dared to rise against him. The only way 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 133 
 
 to go was by Lake Lucerne, a beautiful sheet of 
 water, lyiiig among the mountains and stretching 
 many miles to the northward. Accordingly, he 
 ordered a boat to be made ready. He determined to 
 take his prisoner with him to his castle at the lower 
 end of the lake, to dungeons from which there 
 would be little chance of escape. Tell was brought 
 forth, loaded with chains and strongly guarded, and 
 was placed in the boat. Gessler seated himself at 
 the prow and gave the command to go forward. 
 
 The night was calm, the stars shone brightly, and 
 the boat fairly flew through the water. The upper 
 lake was soon left behind, and the strait which 
 leads into the second lake was passed. As the open 
 water beyond was reached a strong breeze arose, but 
 it only sent the boat more rapidly forward. 
 
 As Tell lay in the bottom of the boat he saw a 
 red light on a neighboring hill. Soon he saw 
 another, and another, until it seemed as though 
 every hill had its shining beacon, and he wondered 
 who had given the signal that was to be given by 
 him alone. 
 
 Suddenly, as the boat was in the deepest waters 
 of the lake, the breeze increased to a gale. At the 
 same time a furious wind came roaring down the 
 mountain, sending high the waves on either side of 
 the vessel. The mast was broken and the sail fell. 
 
134 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 In spite of the efforts of the helmsman, the boat was 
 driven sidewise toward the rocky coast, Avhere it 
 surely would be dashed to pieces. 
 
 It seemed as though no human effort could save the 
 vessel, and the rowers in despair ceased to struggle 
 and held the oars idly in their hands. Gessler threat- 
 ened, begged, offered rich rewards, but the rowers 
 could not regain control of the boat. 
 
 In the midst of the tumult Tell lay in the boat 
 and calmly awaited death. He was content, and even 
 smiled at the thought that the tyrant must also die. 
 
 At length one of the boatmen cried out : " We 
 can no longer steer the boat among the waves. 
 The only man who can save us is here — Tell, the 
 most skilful boatman in all Switzerland. Set him 
 free, and beg him to save us." 
 
 Gessler hesitated, for his hatred of Tell was nearly 
 as strong as his love of life ; but the entreaties, mur- 
 murs, and even threats of his companions, as well 
 as the increasing tempest, urged him to a decision. 
 
 '' Strike off his fetters," said he ; "I pardon all his 
 crimes on condition that he bring us safely into port." 
 
 As his chains fell off. Tell arose and silently 
 seized the helm. He turned the head of the boat 
 with the greatest ease, and the boatmen again 
 bent to their oars. The storm raged, and lashed 
 the waves into fury ; but they did not seem to 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 135 
 
 impede the progress of the vessel, now that the 
 master hand of Tell was on the helm. 
 
 
 
 
 j^^/ M 
 
 
 .*^ 
 
 ^3 
 
 W 
 
 .V 
 
 
 -^^^B 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^^-_'^>- 
 
 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 There was but one direction in which the boat 
 could safely go, and that was back toward Altorf. 
 
136 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Tell was steering the boat in that direction. In the 
 darkness and the storm Gessler did not perceive 
 this. He did not notice when the boat passed 
 through the narrow strait and re-entered the upper 
 lake ; but Tell recognized the mountains of Uri. 
 
 The storm was subsiding, but the waves were 
 still running high as the dawn broke, and Altorf 
 was seen in the distance. Gessler, seeing where he 
 was, demanded fiercely why Tell had brought him 
 back to Altorf. 
 
 Instead of replying, Tell pushed the boat against 
 a rock towards which he had been steering, and seiz- 
 ing a bow and arrow leaped upon the rock. This 
 rock projected over the water, and has ever since 
 been called " Tellsplatte." From it he sprang to 
 another rock on the shore, and stood in an attitude 
 of defiance. 
 
 With a cry of fury, Gessler commanded his men 
 to land and follow Tell. As they strove to reach 
 the shore, the body of Gessler was left unprotected. 
 This gave Tell the opportunity which his quick 
 mind had foreseen. In an instant his arrow had 
 pierced Gessler's heart, and the tyrant fell back in 
 the boat, dead.* 
 
 Before the guards could recover from their amaze- 
 
 * According to some autliorities, Gessler was not shot in the boat, 
 but subsequently in a mountain pass. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 137 
 
 ment, Tell had disappeared. As he flew towards 
 Altorf, he heard cries and the sound of arms. He 
 reached the market-place to find it occupied by the 
 patriotic mountaineers. As soon as Tell was seen, 
 a great shout went up and echoed among the moun- 
 tains. " He is our leader, and his commands alone 
 will we obey ! " 
 
 " My countrymen," said Tell, '' the tyrant Gessler 
 is no more. Our country is avenged, but it is not 
 yet free. It will not be free so long as there re- 
 mains a single stone of the fortress that shelters 
 the Austrian troops. Let us hasten to begin the 
 attack." 
 
 He seized in his left hand the standard of Uri, 
 and, grasping a battle-axe in his right hand, sped 
 with his men toward the mountain on which stood 
 the Austrian fortress. 
 
 A cloud of arrows fell from the ramparts. But 
 one party of besiegers had found a gate that w^as 
 not well guarded. This they soon forced open, and 
 rushed in. As the Austrians turned to meet the 
 foe now within their walls, another gate was bat- 
 tered down, and Tell entered at the head of his 
 men. 
 
 The Austrians were now ready to yield up the 
 fort, and the standard of Tell's canton of Uri was 
 soon waving over the battlements. 
 
138 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 After bidding the brave mountaineers return 
 thanks to God for their great success, Tell said : 
 
 " Comrades, retain your simple ways. Rely upon 
 God and yourselves. Let no tyrant conquer you. 
 Fear, equally with the tyrant from abroad, the tyrant 
 who may rise from your own ranks. Labor virtu- 
 ously and courageously, and you will become the 
 admiration of future generations." 
 
 This victory was followed by others, till, a few 
 years later, after the signal victory at the pass of 
 Morgarten, in 1315, the independence of the three 
 cantons was recognized. Later, other cantons joined 
 the confederacy, other victories were gained over 
 the Austrians, and finally the independence of 
 Switzerland was accomplished. 
 
 A LEGEND OF BREGENZ.^ 
 
 Girt round with ruo-o^ed mountains 
 
 The fair Lake Constance lies; 
 In her blue heart reflected, 
 
 Shine back the starry skies; 
 
 * Bregenz {pron. bra'ghents), picturesquely situated on the east 
 shore of Lake Constance, is a town of the Tyrol {pron. tir'ol), a prov- 
 ince of Austria, adjoining Switzerland on the east. It is on the site 
 of the old Roman Brigantium. It was for several centuries one of 
 the chief fortified places of southern Europe. In 1646 the Swedes 
 stormed and captured the fortress. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 139 
 
 And watcMng each white cloudlet 
 
 Float silently and slow, 
 You think a piece of heaven 
 
 Lies on our earth below. 
 
 Midnight is there; and silence, 
 
 Enthroned in Heaven, looks down 
 Upon her own calm mirror, 
 
 Upon a sleeping town : 
 For Bregenz, that quaint city 
 
 Upon the Tyrol shore. 
 Has stood above Lake Constance 
 
 A thousand years and more. 
 
 Her battlements and towers. 
 
 Upon their rocky steep. 
 Have cast their trembling shadow 
 
 For ages on the deep; 
 Mountain, and lake, and valley 
 
 A sacred legend know 
 Of how the town was saved one night 
 
 Three hundred years ago. 
 
 Far from her home and kindred 
 
 A Tyrol maid had fled, 
 To serve in the Swiss valleys. 
 
 And toil for daily bread; 
 
140 Ballads and tales. 
 
 And every yeaf that fleeted 
 
 So silently and fast, 
 Seemed to bear farther from her 
 
 The memory of the Past. 
 
 She served kind, gentle masters, 
 
 Nor asked for rest or change; 
 Her friends seemed no more new ones. 
 
 Their speech seemed no more strange ; 
 And when she led her cattle 
 
 To pasture every day. 
 She ceased to look and wonder 
 
 On which side Bregenz lay. 
 
 She spoke no more of Bregenz 
 
 With longing and with tears; 
 Her Tyrol home seemed faded 
 
 In a deep mist of years; 
 She heeded not the rumors 
 
 Of Austrian war or strife ; 
 Each day she rose contented 
 
 To the calm toils of life. 
 
 Yet, when her master's children 
 Would clustering round her stand. 
 
 She sang them the old ballads 
 Of her own native land ; 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 141 
 
 And when at morn and evening 
 
 She knelt before God's throne, 
 The accents of her childhood 
 
 Rose to her lips alone. 
 
 And so she dwelt : the valley 
 
 More peaceful year by year; 
 When suddenly strange portents 
 
 Of some great deed seemed near. 
 The golden corn was bending 
 
 Upon its fragile stalk, 
 While farmers, heedless of their fields. 
 
 Paced up and down in talk. 
 
 The men seemed stern and altered, 
 
 With looks cast on the ground; 
 With anxious faces, one by one. 
 
 The women gathered round ; 
 All talk of flax, or spinning. 
 
 Or work was put away ; 
 The very children seemed afraid 
 
 To go alone to play. 
 
 One day, out in the meadow 
 
 With strangers from the town. 
 Some secret plan discussing, 
 
 The men walked up and down ; 
 
142 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Yet, now and then seemed watching 
 A strange, uncertain gleam, 
 
 That looked like lances 'mid the trees 
 That stood below the stream. ^ 
 
 At eve they all assembled, 
 
 All care and doubt were fled; 
 With Jovial laugh they feasted, 
 
 The board w^as nobly spread. 
 The elder of the village 
 
 Rose up, his glass in hand, 
 And cried, "We drink the downfall 
 
 Of an accursed land! 
 
 "The night is growing darker; 
 
 Ere one more day is flown 
 Bregenz, our foeman's stronghold, 
 
 BregCDz shall be our own ! " 
 The women shrank in terror, 
 
 (Yet Pride, too, had her part), 
 But one poor Tyrol maiden 
 
 Felt death within her heart. 
 
 Before her stood fair Bregenz, 
 Once more her towers arose ; 
 
 What were the friends beside her? 
 Only her country's foes ! 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 143 
 
 The faces of her kinsfolk, 
 
 The days of childhood flown, 
 The echoes of her mountains, 
 
 Reclaimed her as their own ! 
 
 Nothing she heard around her 
 
 (Though shouts rang forth again) ; 
 Gone were the green Swiss valleys. 
 
 The pasture, and the plain; 
 Before her eyes one vision, 
 
 And in her heart one cry, 
 That said, " Go forth, save Bregenz, 
 
 And then, if need be, die ! " 
 
 With trembling haste and breathless, 
 
 With noiseless step she sped ; 
 Horses and weary cattle 
 
 Were standing in the shed ; 
 She loosed the strong white charger 
 
 That fed from out her hand; 
 She mounted and she turned his head 
 
 Towards her native land. 
 
 Out — out into the darkness — 
 
 Faster, and still more fast; 
 The smooth grass flies behind her. 
 
 The chestnut wood is past; 
 
144 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 She looks up ; clouds are heavy : 
 Why is her steed so slow? 
 
 Scarcely the wind beside them 
 Can pass them as they go. 
 
 "Faster!" she cries, "O faster!" 
 
 Eleven the church bells chime; 
 "O God," she cries, "help Bregenz^ 
 
 And brino; me there in time ! " 
 But louder than bells ringing, 
 
 Or lowing of the kine. 
 Grows nearer in the midnight 
 
 The rushing of the Rhine. 
 
 Shall not the roaring waters 
 
 Their headlong gallop check? 
 The steed draws back in terror; 
 
 She leans above his neck 
 To watch the flowing darkness ; 
 
 The bank is high and steep. 
 One pause — he staggers forward, 
 
 And plunges in the deep. 
 
 She strives to pierce the blackness^ 
 And looser throws the rein ; 
 
 Her steed must breast the waters 
 That dash above his mane. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 145 
 
 How gallantly, how nobly, 
 
 He struggles through the foam, 
 
 And see — in the far distance 
 Shine out the lights of home ! 
 
 Up the steep bank he bears her, 
 And now they rush again 
 
 Towards the heights of Bregenz, 
 That tower above the plain. 
 
 They reach the gate of Bregenz 
 Just as the midnight rings. 
 
 And out come serf and soldier 
 
 To meet the news she brings. 
 10 
 
14:6 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Bregeiiz is saved ! Ere day light 
 
 Her battlements are manned ; 
 Defiance greets the army 
 
 That marches on the land. 
 And if to deeds heroic 
 
 Should endless fame be paid, 
 Bregenz does well to honor 
 
 The noble Tyrol maid. 
 
 Three hundred years are vanishedj 
 
 And yet upon the hill 
 An old stone gateway rises 
 
 To do her honor still. 
 And there, when Bregenz women 
 
 Sit spinning in the shade, 
 They see in quaint old carving 
 
 The Charger and the Maid. 
 
 And when, to guard old Bregenz, 
 
 By gateway, street, and tower. 
 The warder paces all night long, 
 
 And calls each passing hour: 
 "Nine," "ten," "eleven," he cries aloud. 
 
 And then (O crown of Fame !), 
 When midnight pauses in the skies. 
 
 He calls the maiden's name ! 
 
 — Adelaide Akiste Procter. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 147 
 
 RICHARD, THE LION-HEARTED. 
 
 I. 
 
 One fine day in autumn, in the year 1193, three 
 men, bearing in their hands branches of palm and 
 dressed as pilgrims who had come from the Holy 
 Land, entered a little village not far from Vienna. 
 
 They seemed worn with toil and travel, and they 
 had allowed their 
 hair and beards to 
 grow to a great 
 length. 
 
 One of these palm- 
 ers was very tall and 
 well proportioned. 
 Every movement 
 showed the o-reat 
 
 o 
 
 strength of his 
 limbs, but he was 
 no less graceful than 
 powerful. His eyes 
 
 were blue and bright, and his hair was of a color 
 between red and auburn. As he strode along, his 
 gait and gestures made him appear more like a mon- 
 arch than a meek and pious pilgrim. 
 
 In travelling from town to town, the palmers, 
 
148 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 instead of begging alms, spent their money freely. 
 Moreover, they took pains to avoid the castles and 
 palaces of the great, the very places which other pil- 
 grims most anxiously sought. 
 
 Arriving at the village, they stopped at the miser- 
 able inn, instead of proceeding to Vienna, where the 
 best food and lodging were to be had. As soon as 
 they entered the hovel, one of them took from his 
 scrip a noble goose. This was placed on the spit, 
 and the cooking was directed by the tall palmer 
 himself. The travellers brought out their own flag- 
 ons, but they paid the host as much as though they 
 had purchased the wine he so highly recommended. 
 
 Their gayety during the meal again belied their 
 garb, and they ate and drank heartily indeed. 
 When they had finished their meal, the tall palmer 
 became serious, and said : " We must be wary — we 
 are watched. The Duke, you know, loves me not ; 
 and were I to fall into his hands, it would be long ere 
 I should see merry old England again. That min- 
 strel who trod so closely on our heels is a spy, I war- 
 rant ye ; for his features and accent, however he 
 may try to disguise them, prove him to be English. 
 Nevertheless, here we are, w^ith hearty good cheer 
 before us, and, reverend pilgrims though we be, the 
 stirrup-cup and the song must not be forgotten." 
 
 Whilst the palmers were singing their lay, a min- 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 149 
 
 strel entered the room, and, placing himself at its 
 farthest extremity, leaned upon his harp, and gazed 
 intently at them. 
 
 There was a mixture of cunning and malignity in 
 the expression of his countenance as he scanned the 
 features of the tall palmer. AVhen the song was 
 concluded he rose, and, approaching the festive 
 board, bowed respectfully. The palmers started as 
 if they had seen a spectre. " Ha ! " said one of 
 them, " 'tis the spy minstrel ! What wouldst thou 
 with us, man? We are palmers, and it would ill 
 accord us to listen to the profane ditties of a wan- 
 dering minstrel." 
 
 " Nay," said the minstrel, " I know many a lay to 
 which your ears, holy fathers, might listen with 
 pious pleasure. I can tell you of the exploits of 
 good knights in the Holy Land, of holy Peter the 
 Hermit, of the noble Godfrey, and of brave King 
 Richard of England." 
 
 " Nay, nay," said the tall palmer, hastily ; " begone, 
 I pray thee ; we have our devotions to perform, and 
 must retire early to our humble beds that we may 
 be stirring betimes in the morning." 
 
 " Ye are indeed churlish," said the minstrel, " and 
 ye shall remember to your cost that ye gave the 
 minstrel neither meat nor drink, and would not 
 listen to his ditty." 
 
150 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Then the minstrel took up his harp, and with a 
 look of defiance left the apartment. The palmers, 
 thus left to themselves, retired to rest. 
 
 As the tall palmer slept, a thousand visions of a 
 thousand things presented themselves to his mind in 
 dreams. War and tumult, triumph, imprisonment, 
 and dominion, occupied his imagination by turns. 
 He dreamed that he was entering a great city 
 amidst the acclamations of thousands ; warriors and 
 statesmen hailed him as their lord ; a disloyal and 
 treacherous brother was at his feet, craving pardoij 
 and expressing penitence ; and the mother he loved 
 so well laid a hand upon his arm. But the touch 
 seemed heavy and violent, and he awoke with a 
 start, to find himself in the grasp of an armed man. 
 
 He shook off his assailant and, clenching his hand, 
 aimed so tremendous a blow that it felled the 
 intruder to the ground. But the apartment was full 
 of armed men, and the two other palmers were 
 secured and bound. 
 
 Not wishing to encounter the gigantic strength 
 which had laid low their leader, no one dared to 
 advance. 
 
 " 'Tis he whom we seek," said one of them, " for 
 no other man could have aimed a blow like that ; 
 but close round him ; we are surely too numerous, 
 and too well armed, to be daunted by one man." 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 151 
 
 The tall palmer defended himself for some time ; 
 but two men, stealing behind him, threw a chain 
 over his shoulders and bound his arms fast. Seeing 
 that he was overcome, the palmer began to remon- 
 strate. 
 
 " What mean ye ? " said he. " What kind of men 
 are ye to assault three poor palmers who are travel- 
 ling on their way from the Holy Land ? " 
 
 ''Nay, nay," said the minstrel, stepping forth; 
 " they are no palmers ; and when my lord recovers 
 from the effect of that blow, he will recognize in 
 this man a person whom he has met before." 
 
 The man whom the palmer had stricken to the 
 ground was now recovering, and the minstrel, assist- 
 ing him to his feet, said : 
 
 " My lord, once more behold this man, and say if 
 the tale that I told thee is true." 
 
 The Duke approached the palmer, and each by 
 the glare of the torches gazed on the other, and 
 beheld the features of his most deadly foe. 
 
 " 'Tis Richard of England ! " said the Duke ; " the 
 betrayer of the Christian cause, the assassin of Con- 
 rad, the friend of usurpers and of infidels ! " 
 
 '' Leopold of Austria," said Richard, " thou art a 
 liar and a coward ! Unfetter but one of these 
 hands, and then repeat what thou hast said, if thou 
 darest." 
 
152 ^ BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 " Away with the King," said Leopold ; " if he may 
 be called a king whose brother wears his crown, and 
 who is prisoner to a duke." 
 
 The princely Richard was borne away and 
 thrown into a dungeon. Thus, through the offices 
 of a spy in the employ of Richard's treacherous 
 brother John, Leopold had in his power the man 
 who had insulted him at the siege of Acre, when 
 both were fighting to rescue the Holy Land from 
 the Saracens. 
 
 II. 
 
 Richai^d, before his departure on the crusade, had 
 declared that Arthur, the son of his deceased 
 brother, should succeed to the throne. John imme- 
 diately on his brother's departure set about to secure 
 the throne for himself. Many were the intrigues 
 and quarrels between those who remained loyal to 
 the King and his plans, and those who favored 
 John. At length, the citizens of London took the 
 oath of allegiance to John, but only for so long as 
 Richard should be absent from England. John had 
 employed spies to take service in the army of his 
 brother, and to prevent his return by every means 
 in their power short of killing him. 
 
 But the fears of John and the hopes of the people 
 wei*e aroused by the news that Richard was on his 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 153 
 
 way back to England. The expectation of the pub^ 
 lie was disappointed. News gave way to rumors ; 
 and at last nothing whatever could be learned of 
 the brave Richard. But the loving heart of Blon- 
 del, his favorite minstrel, discovered the where- 
 abouts of the king. 
 
 Blondel knew that Richard had determined to 
 travel almost unattended, and had assumed the 2:arb 
 of a ^^ilgrim, in order to cross the continent of Eu- 
 rope unknown and elude the snares of his enemies. 
 
 The minstrel waited long for news of his master, 
 and at last resolved 
 to search for him. 
 
 After months of 
 weary travel over 
 central Europe, as 
 the minstrel was one 
 day singing under 
 the walls of a Ger- 
 man castle he was 
 delighted to hear 
 his ballad taken up 
 and concluded by a 
 voice from within. 
 
 He recognized the voice of Richard, and he knew 
 that his search was at an end. In vain did Blondel 
 endeavor to obtain an interview. He gained ad- 
 
154 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 mission to the castle, but was unable by bribe or 
 persuasion to get near the master whom he so longed 
 to see. 
 
 Lingering beneath the castle walls one day, and 
 singing one of the airs that Richard loved, the King 
 from his prison took up the air and sang : 
 
 ^^^Tis he ! thy prince — long sought^ long lost ; 
 The leader of the Eed Cross host ! 
 ^Tis he ! to none thy joy betray ; 
 Young troubadour ! away, away ! 
 Away to the island of the brave, 
 The gem on the bosom of the wave ; 
 Arouse the sons of the noble soil 
 To win their lion from the toil ; 
 And free the wassail cup shall flow ; 
 Bright in each hall the hearth shall glow ; 
 The festal board shall be richly crowned, 
 While knights and chieftains banquet round ; 
 And a thousand harps with joy shall ring. 
 When merry England hails her King l^' 
 
 Blondel lost no time, but set out at once. Wher- 
 ever he could find a listening and sympathetic ear, 
 he sang the story of the King's captivity. Europe 
 was startled to learn that one of the champions of 
 Christendom was languishing in prison. In his fear 
 for the safety of his prisoner, Leopold sold him to 
 Henry, Emperor of Germany. The Emperor lodged 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 155 
 
 Richard, loaded with chains, in one of the castles of 
 the Tyrol, and surrounded him with trust)^ guards, 
 who with drawn swords attended him by day and 
 watched at his bedside by night. 
 
 III. 
 
 As it became known tliroughout the German Em- 
 pire that King Richard of England was in the cus- 
 tody of the Emperor, there spread exaggerated 
 reports of the captive's personal prowess. Among 
 those who listened to these reports with great impa- 
 tience was the Emperor's only son, Prince Arthur, 
 the bravest knight and the strongest man in Ger- 
 many. The stories of the feats of Richard excited 
 his Jealousy, and he longed for an opportunity to 
 try his strength with the captive monarch. 
 
 The English, by this time, had made offers of 
 large ransom for the liberation of their King, and 
 Prince Arthur urged his father to release Richard ; 
 but to no purpose. The noble prince desired to see 
 him at liberty, not only because of sympathy for the 
 unmerited sufferings of the prisoner, but that they 
 might meet on equal terms, and try fully and fairly 
 the strength of their respective arms. 
 
 At length, he became so impatient of delay that 
 he won the Emperor's consent to fix a day for a trial 
 
156 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 of prowess. Richard smiled when he received the 
 Prince's challenge, and it was agreed that each 
 should give and receive a blow. 
 
 On the day appointed, the Emperor and Empress, 
 with their attendants, assembled in the great hall of 
 the castle to witness the trial of strength. 
 
 All gazed with wonder and delight as the King 
 of England entered the hall. His gigantic form, his 
 sinewy limbs, and the haughty, undaunted expres- 
 sion of his features filled the spectators with appre- 
 hension for the Prince, who seemed, however, to 
 entertain no fear as to the result. 
 
 In outward appearance the two men were nearly 
 matched ; the Prince was as tall and muscular as the 
 King ; each had sustained the assault of many a cele- 
 brated warrior, and had withstood unmoved the 
 blows of the mightiest. Clad in silken tunics, and 
 wearing Oriental turbans on their heads, they stood 
 before each other unarmed. 
 
 "Richard of England," said Arthur, "if thou 
 wouldst forbear this trial, acknowledge that thou 
 darest not compete with me, and give me that jewel 
 in thy bonnet in token of acknowledgment." 
 
 " Arthur of Austria," replied Richard, " I came not 
 here to prate ; and if the Emperor has exhibited me 
 only that he may listen to the vain boastings of his 
 son, the sooner he consigns me back to my dungeon 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 157 
 
 "^ili'lk. m vmwmu^^ i^fi^M*^'£ 
 
 
 ^r^-' 
 
 the better. I am ready to bear thy blow, but I lack 
 both the wit and the spirit to reply to thy taunts." 
 
 '^ Forbear, Arthur, forbear ! " said the Empress, 
 "and pursue not this rash quarrel; the King of 
 England is thy superior in strength. Surely a 
 knight like thee may, without discrediting himself, 
 make such an acknowledgment to the most re- 
 nowned warrior in Christendom ! " 
 
 " Peace, dearest mother ! " said the Prince. " And 
 now. King Richard, -- _ 
 
 look to thyself. 
 Stand firm, or the 
 fame of thy prowess 
 is dimmed forever." 
 
 Thus saying, he 
 raised his arm, 
 clenched his hand, 
 and aimed at Rich- 
 ard's head a ponder- 
 ous blow. The King 
 met the shock with 
 folded arms, and 
 stood seemingly no 
 more disturbed than the sturdy oak in a summer 
 breeze. A cry of admiration rang through the hall. 
 
 " Did the Prince strike me ? " asked Richard, turn- 
 ing to the spectators. Then again facing the 
 
 m 
 
158 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 Prince, lie said: "Give me thy hand, young sir; 
 now fare thee well, and may'st thou be more suc- 
 cessful in future trials of strength." 
 
 "Nay, nay, sir King," said the Prince, detaining 
 him ; " this courtesy suits me not. The proud barons 
 of England must not say that their King disdained 
 to try his strength on a German prince. Here 
 stand I, ready to receive thy blow. Thou wilt not ! 
 Then I proclaim thee a coward, and no true knight." 
 
 The King's face flushed at this insult. He slowly 
 clenched his hand, raised his arm, and, sending a 
 blow with the swiftness of lightning, the Prince fell 
 lifeless to the ground. 
 
 " He's slain ! he's slain ! " cried the Empress; "the 
 cold-hearted Englishman has murdered my boy ! " 
 
 All crowded round the prostrate body, but every 
 efliort failed to restore it to life. 
 
 The Empress, overcome with grief, turned to her 
 husband and said : " It is the finger of Heaven ; thy 
 wickedness in detaining this King thy prisoner has 
 drawn the wrath of God upon us. Release him, 
 lest ^ worse evil befall us." 
 
 " No ! " replied the Emperor. " Away with him ! 
 Load him with chains, and cast him into the most 
 loathsome dungeon of the castle ! " • 
 
 The knightly King was thrust into a deep dun- 
 geon, into which no ray of sunshine ever entered. 
 
BALLADS AND TALES. 159 
 
 His limbs were loaded with irons, and the scantiest 
 food and drink provided for him. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Queen Eleanor, the mother of Richard, finally 
 appealed to the Pope, and induced him to threaten 
 the Emperor with excommunication unless the cap- 
 tive were released at once. In alarm, the Emperor 
 agreed that Richard should he tried before the 
 imperial diet of the German Empire. 
 
 When Richard was brought before this body, he 
 made such a manly and persuasive answer to the 
 charges brought against him, that the princes of the 
 diet heartily applauded him. The Emperor himself 
 ordered the King's chains to be stricken off, showed 
 him the respect due to a crowned head, and con- 
 sented to discuss the amount of his ransom. 
 
 Richard immediately sent a letter to England 
 announcing the glad news. But the country had 
 been drained of money by the rapacity of John. So 
 the sum agreed on could not be raised at once. The 
 Emperor was slow to conclude the bargain, and his 
 terms rose at each delay. Time dragged on, and.it 
 was five months before the agreement was reached. 
 This was, that one hundred thousand pounds should 
 be paid, and that the crown of England should be 
 
1^0 BALLADS AND TALES. 
 
 resigned to Henry, from whom it should be received 
 by Richard as a vassal of the Empire, with the obli- 
 gation of a yearly payment of five thousand pounds. 
 
 At this Juncture, the treacherous John offered to. 
 pay the Emperor twenty thousand pounds for every 
 month he should detain Richard in prison. The 
 Emperor was anxious to accept this offer, but the 
 German princes compelled him to release his pris- 
 oner. More than seventy thousand pounds were 
 paid the day Richard was released, and hostages 
 were given for the payment of the remainder. 
 
 After vexatious delays, Richard landed in Eng- 
 land, amidst the acclamations of his subjects. He 
 had been absent more than four years. The treach- 
 erous John on his knees implored forgiveness, and 
 at liis mother's request he was received into favor, 
 though his lands and castles were confiscated. 
 
YB 36785