Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race
"It is not right for a whole province to be disgraced for lack of a
man to keep his word," said King Conor, "but I fear we have no such
champions here."
Laegaire Accepts the Challenge
"By my word," said Laegaire, who had listened attentively to the whole
conversation, "there will be a champion this very moment. Stoop down,
fellow, and let me cut off your head, that you may take mine
to-morrow."
Then Uath chanted magic spells over the axe as he stroked the edge,
and laid his neck on a block, and Laegaire hewed so hard that the axe
severed the head from the body and struck deep into the block. Then
the body of Uath arose, took up the head and the axe, and strode away
down the hall, all people shrinking out of its way, and so it passed
out into the night.
"If this terrible stranger returns to-morrow he will slay us all,"
they whispered, as they looked pityingly at Laegaire, who was trying
in vain to show no signs of apprehension.
Laegaire and Conall Disgraced
When the next evening came, and men sat in the Red Branch House,
talking little and waiting for what would happen, in came Uath, the
Stranger, as well and sound as before the terrible blow, bearing his
axe, and eager to return the stroke. Alas! Laegaire's heart had failed
him and he did not come, and the stranger jeered at the men of Ulster
because their great champion durst not keep his agreement, nor face
the blow he should receive in return for one he gave.
The men of Ulster were utterly ashamed, but Conall Cearnach, the
Victorious, was present that night, and he made a new agreement with
Uath. Conall gave a blow which beheaded Uath, but again, when the
stranger returned whole and sound on the following evening, the
champion was not to be found: Conall would not face the blow.
Cuchulain Accepts the Challenge
When Uath found that a second hero of Ulster had failed him he again
taunted them all with cowardice and promise-breaking.
"What! is there not one man of courage among you Ulstermen? You would
fain have a great name, but have no courage to earn it! Great heroes
are you all! Not one among you has bravery enough to face me! Where is
that childish youth Cuchulain! A poor miserable fellow he is, but I
would like to see if his word is better to be relied on than the word
of these two great heroes."
"A youth I may be," said Cuchulain, "but I will keep my word without
any agreement."
Uath laughed aloud. "Yes! that is likely, is it not? And you with so
great a fear of death!"
Thereupon the youth leapt up, caught the deadly axe, and severed the
giant's head as he stood with one stroke.
Cuchulain Stands the Test
The next day the Red Branch heroes watched Cuchulain to see what he
would do. They would not have been surprised if he had failed like the
others, who now were present. The champion, however, showed no signs
of failing or retreat. He sat sorrowfully in his place waiting for the
certain death that must come, and regretting his rashness, but with no
thought of breaking his word.
With a sigh he said to King Conor as they waited: "Do not leave this
place till all is over. Death is coming to me very surely, but I must
fulfil my agreement, for I would rather die than break my word."
Towards the close of day Uath strode into the hall exultant.
"Where is Cuchulain?" he cried.
"Here I am," was the reply.
"Ah, poor boy! your speech is sad to-night, and the fear of death lies
heavy on you; but at least you have redeemed your word and have not
failed me."
The youth rose from his seat and went towards Uath, as he stood with
the great axe ready, and knelt to receive the blow.
Curoi's Decision and Cuchulain's Victory
The hero of Ulster laid his head on the block; but Uath was not
satisfied. "Stretch out your neck better," said he.
"You are playing with me, to torment me," said Cuchulain. "Slay me now
speedily, for I did not keep you waiting last night."
However, he stretched out his neck as Uath bade, and the stranger
raised his axe till it crashed upwards through the rafters of the
hall, like the crash of trees falling in a storm. When the axe came
down with a terrific sound all men looked fearfully at Cuchulain. The
descending axe had not even touched him; it had come down with the
blunt side on the ground, and the youth knelt there unharmed. Smiling
at him, and leaning on his axe, stood no terrible and hideous
stranger, but Curoi of Kerry, come to give his decision at last.
"Rise up, Cuchulain," said Curoi. "There is none among all the heroes
of Ulster to equal you in courage and loyalty and truth. The
Championship of the Heroes of Ireland is yours from this day forth,
and the Champion's Portion at all feasts; and to your wife I adjudge
the first place among all the women of Ulster. Woe to him who dares to
dispute this decision!" Thereupon Curoi vanished, and the Red Branch
warriors gathered around Cuchulain, and all with one voice acclaimed
him the Champion of the Heroes of all Ireland--a title which has clung
to him until this day.
CHAPTER X: THE TALE OF GAMELYN
The "Wicked Brothers" Theme
The tale of "Gamelyn" is a variant of the old fairy-tale subject of
the Wicked Elder Brothers, one of the oldest and most interesting
versions of which may still be read in the Biblical story of Joseph
and his brethren. Usually a father dies leaving three sons, of whom
the two elder are worthless and the youngest rises to high honour,
whereupon the elder brothers try to kill the youngest from envy at his
good fortune. A similar root-idea is found in "Cinderella" and other
fairy-tales of girls, but in these there may usually be found a cruel
stepmother and two contemptuous stepsisters--a noteworthy variation
which seems to point to some deep-rooted idea that the ties of blood
are stronger among women than among men.
Literary Influence of the "Gamelyn" Story
The story of "Gamelyn" has two great claims to our attention: it is,
through Lodge's "Euphues' Golden Legacy," the ultimate source of
Shakespeare's _As You Like It_, and it seems to be the earliest
presentment in English literature of the figure of "the noble outlaw."
In fact, Gamelyn is probably the literary ancestor of "bold Robin
Hood," and stands for an English ideal of justice and equity, against
legal oppression and wickedness in high places. He shows, too, the
love of free life, of the merry greenwood and the open road, which
reappears after so many centuries in the work of Robert Louis
Stevenson.
The Story
In the reign of King Edward I. there dwelt in Lincolnshire, near the
vast expanse of the Fens, a noble gentleman, Sir John of the Marches.
He was now old, but was still a model of all courtesy and a "very
perfect gentle knight." He had three sons, of whom the youngest,
Gamelyn, was born in his father's old age, and was greatly beloved by
the old man; the other two were much older than he, and John, the
eldest, had already developed a vicious and malignant character.
Gamelyn and his second brother, Otho, reverenced their father, but
John had no respect or obedience for the good gentleman, and was the
chief trouble of his declining years, as Gamelyn was his chief joy.
The Father Feels his End Approaching
At last old age and weakness overcame the worthy old Sir John, and he
was forced to take to his bed, where he lay sadly meditating on his
children's future, and wondering how to divide his possessions justly
among the three. There was no difficulty of inheritance or
primogeniture, for all the knight's lands were held in fee-simple, and
not in entail, so that he might bequeath them as he would. Sir John of
the Marches, fearing lest he should commit an injustice, sent
throughout the district for wise knights, begging them to come
hastily, if they wished to see him alive, and help him. When the
country squires and lords, his near neighbours, heard of his grave
condition, they hurried to the castle, and gathered in the bedchamber,
where the dying knight greeted them thus: "Lords and gentlemen, I warn
you in truth that I may no longer live; by the will of God death lays
his hand upon me." When they heard this they tried to encourage him,
by bidding him remember that God can provide a remedy for every
disease, and the good knight received their kindly words without
dispute. "That God can send remedy for an ill I will never deny; but
I beseech you, for my sake, to divide my lands among my three sons.
For the love of God deal justly, and forget not my youngest, Gamelyn.
Seldom does any heir to an estate help his brothers after his father's
death."
How Shall he Dispose of his Estate?
The friends whom Sir John had summoned deliberated long over the
disposal of the estate. The majority wished to give all to the eldest
son, but a strong minority urged the claims of the second, but all
agreed that Gamelyn might wait till his eldest brother chose to give
him a share of his father's lands. At last it was decided to divide
the inheritance between the two elder sons, and the knights returned
to the chamber where the brave old knight lay dying, and told him
their decision. He summoned up strength enough to protest against
their plan of distribution, and said:
"'Nay, by St. Martin, I can yet bequeath
My lands to whom I wish: they still are mine.
Then hearken, neighbours, while I make my will.
To John, my eldest son, and heir, I leave
Five ploughlands, my dead father's heritage;
My second, Otho, ploughlands five shall hold,
Which my good right hand won in valiant strife;
All else I own, in lands and goods and wealth,
To Gamelyn, my youngest, I devise;
And I beseech you, for the love of God,
Forsake him not, but guard his helpless youth
And let him not be plundered of his wealth.'"
Then Sir John, satisfied with having proclaimed his will, died with
Christian resignation, leaving his little son Gamelyn in the power of
the cruel eldest brother, now, in his turn, Sir John.
The Cruel Eldest Son
Since the boy was a minor, the new knight, as natural guardian,
assumed the control of Gamelyn's land, vassals, education, and
nurture; and full evilly he discharged his duties, for he clothed and
fed him badly, and neglected his lands, so that his parks and houses,
his farms and villages, fell into ruinous decay. The boy, when he grew
older, noticed this and resented it, but did not realize the power in
his own broad limbs and mighty sinews to redress his wrongs, though by
the time he fully understood his injuries no man would dare to face
him in fight when he was angry, so strong a youth had he become.
Gamelyn Resists
While Gamelyn, one day, walking in the hall, mused on the ruin of all
his inheritance, Sir John came blustering in, and, seeing him, called
out: "How now: is dinner ready?" Enraged at being addressed as if he
were a mere servant, he replied angrily: "Go and do your own baking; I
am not your cook."
Sir John almost doubted the evidence of his ears. "What, my dear
brother, is that the way to answer? Thou hast never addressed me so
before!"
"No," replied Gamelyn; "until now I have never considered all the
wrong you have done me. My parks are broken open, my deer are driven
off; you have deprived me of my armour and my steeds; all that my
father bequeathed to me is falling into ruin and decay. God's curse
upon you, false brother!"
Sir John was now enraged beyond all measure, and shouted: "Stand
still, vagabond, and hold thy peace! What right hast thou to speak of
land or vassals? Thou shalt learn to be grateful for food and
raiment."
"A curse upon him that calls me vagabond! I am no worse than
yourself; I am the son of a lady and a good knight."