Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race
Are they well?"
"Alas! my lord, they have been slain, and many another good officer
with them."
"Who hath done this?" questioned the king angrily.
"My lord, three bold outlaws, Adam Bell, Clym of the Cleugh, and
William of Cloudeslee."
"What! these three whom I have just pardoned? Ah, sorely I repent that
I forgave them! I would give a thousand pounds if I could have them
hanged all three; but I cannot."
The King's Test
As the king read the letters his anger and surprise increased. It
seemed impossible that three men should overawe a whole town, should
slay sheriff, justice, mayor, and nearly every official in the town,
forge a royal letter with the king's seal, and then lock the gates and
escape safely. There was no doubt of the fact, and the king raged
impotently against his own foolish mercy in giving them a free pardon.
It had been granted, however, and he could do nought but grieve over
the ruin they had wrought in Carlisle. At last he sprang up, for he
could endure the banquet no longer.
"Call my archers to go to the butts," he commanded. "I will see these
bold outlaws shoot, and try if their archery is so fine as men say."
Accordingly the king's archers and the queen's archers arrayed
themselves, and the three yeomen took their bows and looked well to
their silken bowstrings; and then all made their way to the butts
where the targets were set up. The archers shot in turn, aiming at an
ordinary target, but Cloudeslee soon grew weary of this childish
sport, and said aloud: "I shall never call a man a good archer who
shoots at a target as large as a buckler. We have another sort of butt
in my country, and that is worth shooting at."
William of Cloudeslee's Archery
"Make ready your own butts," the king commanded, and the three outlaws
went to a bush in a field close by and returned bearing hazel-rods,
peeled and shining white. These rods they set up at four hundred
yards apart, and, standing by one, they said to the king: "We should
account a man a fair archer if he could split one wand while standing
beside the other." "It cannot be done; the feat is too great,"
exclaimed the king. "Sire, I can easily do it," quoth Cloudeslee, and,
taking aim very carefully, he shot, and the arrow split the wand in
two. "In truth," said the king, "you are the best archer I have ever
seen. Can you do greater wonders?" "Yes," quoth Cloudeslee, "one thing
more I can do, but it is a more difficult feat. Nevertheless I will
try it, to show you our North Country shooting." "Try, then," the king
replied; "but if you fail you shall be hanged without mercy, because
of your boasting."
Cloudeslee Shoots the Apple from his Son's Head
Now Cloudeslee stood for a few moments as if doubtful of himself, and
the South Country archers watched him, hoping for a chance to retrieve
their defeat, when William suddenly said: "I have a son, a dear son,
seven years of age. I will tie him to a stake and place an apple on
his head. Then from a distance of a hundred and twenty yards I will
split the apple in two with a broad arrow." "By heaven!" the king
cried, "that is a dreadful feat. Do as you have said, or by Him who
died on the Cross I will hang you high. Do as you have said, but if
you touch one hair of his head, or the edge of his gown, I will hang
you and your two companions." "I have never broken my pledged word,"
said the North Country bowman, and he at once made ready for the
terrible trial. The stake was set in the ground, the boy tied to it,
with his face turned from his father, lest he should give a start and
destroy his aim. Cloudeslee then paced the hundred and twenty yards,
anxiously felt his string, bent his bow, chose his broadest arrow, and
fitted it with care.
The Last Shot
It was an anxious moment. The throng of spectators felt sick with
expectation, and many women wept and prayed for the father and his
innocent son. But Cloudeslee showed no fear. He addressed the crowd
gravely: "Good folk, stand all as still as may be. For such a shot a
man needs a steady hand, and your movements may destroy my aim and
make me slay my son. Pray for me."
Then, in an unbroken silence of breathless suspense, the bold marksman
shot, and the apple fell to the ground, cleft into two absolutely
equal halves. A cheer from every spectator burst forth deafeningly,
and did not die down till the king beckoned for silence.
The King and Queen Show Favour
"God forbid that I should ever be your target," quoth he. "You shall
be my chief forester in the North Country, with daily wage, and daily
right of killing venison; your two brethren shall become yeomen of my
guard, and I will advance the fortunes of your family in every way."
The queen smiled graciously upon William, and she bestowed a pension
upon him, and bade him bring his wife, fair Alice, to court, to take
up the post of chief woman of the bedchamber to the royal children.
Overwhelmed with these favours, the three yeomen became conscious of
their own offences, more than they had told to the royal pair; their
awakened consciences sent them to a holy bishop, who heard their
confessions, gave them penance and bade them live well for the
future, and then absolved them. When they had returned to Englewood
Forest and had broken up the outlaw band they came back to the royal
court, and spent the rest of their lives in great favour with the king
and queen.
CHAPTER XII: BLACK COLIN OF LOCH AWE
Introduction
In considering the hero-myths of Scotland we are at once confronted
with two difficulties. The first, and perhaps the greater, is this,
that the only national heroes of Lowland Scotland are actual
historical persons, with very little of the mythical character about
them. The mention of Scottish heroes at once suggests Sir William
Wallace, Robert Bruce, the Black Douglas, Sir Andrew Barton, and many
more, whose exploits are matter of serious chronicle and sober record
rather than subject of tradition and myth. These warriors are too much
in reach of the fierce white searchlight of historic inquiry to be
invested with mythical interest or to show any developments of ancient
legend.
The second difficulty is of a different nature, and yet almost equally
perplexing. In the old ballads and poems of the Gaelic Highlands there
are mythical heroes in abundance, such as Fingal and Ossian, Comala,
and a host of shadowy chieftains and warriors, but they are not
distinctively Scotch. They are only Highland Gaelic versions of the
Irish Gaelic hero-legends, Scotch embodiments of Finn and Oisin, whose
real home was in Ireland, and whose legends were carried to the
Western Isles and the Highlands by conquering tribes of Scots from
Erin. These heroes are at bottom Irish, the champions of the Fenians
and of the Red Branch, and in the Scotch legends they have lost much
of their original beauty and chivalry.
The Highland Clans
It is rather in the private history of the country, as it were, than
in its national records that we are likely to find a hero who will
have something of the mythical in his story, something of the romance
of the Middle Ages. The wars and jealousies of the clans, the
adventures of a chief among hostile tribesmen, the raids and forays,
the loves and hatreds of rival families, form a good background for a
romantic legend; and such a legend occurs in the story of Black Colin
of Loch Awe, a warrior of the great Campbell clan in the fourteenth
century. The tale is common in one form or another to all European
lands where the call of the Crusades was heard, and the romantic
Crusading element has to a certain extent softened the occasionally
ferocious nature of Highland stories in general, so that there is no
bloodthirsty vengeance, no long blood-feud, to be recorded of Black
Colin Campbell.
The Knight of Loch Awe
During the wars between England and Scotland in the reigns of Edward
I. and Edward II. one of the chief leaders in the cause of Scottish
independence was Sir Nigel Campbell. The Knight of Loch Awe, as he was
generally called, was a schoolfellow and comrade of Sir William
Wallace, and a loyal and devoted adherent of Robert Bruce. In return
for his services in the war of independence Bruce rewarded him with
lands belonging to the rebellious MacGregors, including Glenurchy, the
great glen at the head of Loch Awe through which flows the river
Orchy. It was a wild and lonely district, and Sir Nigel Campbell had
much conflict before he finally expelled the MacGregors and settled
down peaceably in Glenurchy. There his son was born, and named Colin,
and as years passed he won the nickname of Black Colin, from his
swarthy complexion, or possibly from his character, which showed
tokens of unusual fierceness and determination.
Black Colin's Youth
Sir Nigel Campbell, as all Highland chiefs did, sent his son to a
farmer's family for fosterage. The boy became a child of his
foster-family in every way; he lived on the plain food of the
clansmen, oatmeal porridge and oatcake, milk from the cows, and beef
from the herds; he ran and wrestled and hunted with his
foster-brothers, and learnt woodcraft and warlike skill, broadsword
play and the use of dirk and buckler, from his foster-father. More
than all, he won a devoted following in the clan, for a man's
foster-parents were almost dearer to him than his own father and
mother, and his foster-brethren were bound to fight and die for him,
and to regard him more than their own blood-relations. The
foster-parents of Black Colin were a farmer and his wife, Patterson by
name, living at Socach, in Glenurchy, and well and truly they
fulfilled their trust.
He Goes on Crusade
In course of time Sir Nigel Campbell died, and Black Colin, his son,
became Knight of Loch Awe, and lord of all Glenurchy and the country
round. He was already noted for his strength and his dark complexion,
which added to his beauty in the eyes of the maidens, and he soon
found a lovely and loving bride. They dwelt on the Islet in Loch Awe,
and were very happy for a short time, but Colin was always restless,
because he would fain do great deeds of arms, and there was peace just
then in the land.
At last one day a messenger arrived at the castle on the Islet bearing
tidings that another crusade was on foot. This messenger was a palmer
who had been in the Holy Land, and had seen all the holy places in
Jerusalem. He told Black Colin how the Saracens ruled the country,
and hindered men from worshipping at the sacred shrines; and he told
how he had come home by Rome, where the Pope had just proclaimed
another Holy War. The Pope had declared that his blessing would rest
on the man who should leave wife and home and kinsfolk, and go forth
to fight for the Lord against the infidel. As the palmer spoke Black
Colin became greatly moved by his words, and when the old man had made
an end he raised the hilt of his dirk and swore by the cross thereon
that he would obey the summons and go on crusade.
The Lady of Loch Awe
Now Black Colin's wife was greatly grieved, and wept sorely, for she
was but young, and had been wedded no more than a year, and it seemed
to her hard that she must be left alone. She asked her husband: "How
far will you go on this errand?" "I will go as far as Jerusalem, if
the Pope bids me, when I have come to Rome," said he. "Alas! and how
long will you be away from me?" "That I know not, but it may be for
years if the heathen Saracens will not surrender the Holy Land to the
warriors of the Cross." "What shall I do during those long, weary
years?" asked she. "Dear love, you shall dwell here on the Islet and
be Lady of Glenurchy till I return again. The vassals and clansmen