River Legends; Or, Father Thames and Father Rhine
do) in the appointment of another. This also took place without any
obstacle arising, and the result was that, when the time appointed for
the reassembling of the people had arrived, Smith’s plans were pretty
well matured.
Standing near the sacred oak, he addressed the crowd before him in
brief but energetic words. He pointed out to them the misery which their
country had so long endured through the ravages of the Great Boar. He
declared that the thing, was intolerable, and that it only rested with
themselves to put an end to it by a great {034}and united effort. He
professed himself willing to lead them if they would only engage to
follow him, and was confident that, if he were obeyed, all would go
well. If, indeed, they had any doubt about his being a fit person to
lead them, let them only say so and he would at once yield to another.
These words were received with much favour by many of his audience, but
some of the more timid and doubtful still hesitated as to their course,
when suddenly a voice spoke from the old oak in words of unmistakable
import:--
“This is the man and this the hour
To break the tyrant’s hateful power.
No longer, Englishmen, delay;
Choose--listen--follow--and obey!”
These words at once reassured every one, and effectually settled the
question. Smith was unanimously elected leader, and, like other leaders,
proceeded at once to declare his policy. He told his followers that the
first thing to be done was to make a good road right into the heart
of the forest. People are apt to magnify dangers about which they know
little, and the thick and impenetrable nature of the Boar’s retreat
greatly added to the idea of his wondrous power. The first thing, then,
was to let the light of day in upon him, and, accordingly, the very next
morning, a strong body of labourers commenced to work at a good, broad
road, which should penetrate the heart of the forest.
Of course this undertaking occupied some time, during which the secret
interviews between Smith and the fair Druidess were not unfrequent,
and the brave young leader obtained much good advice as to his mode of
procedure.
The {035}most extraordinary part of the story is that, all this time,
no one heard or saw anything of the Boar. Whether he knew less of magic
than was supposed, and, being engaged on the other side of the forest,
did not know what was going on near Ascot Heath--or whether he knew
and didn’t think it worth while to interfere--or whether he was idle,
sleepy, ill, or anything else--I don’t know; but he never interfered at
all until a long length of road had been made, and a gang of labourers
had got very near his lair.
Then, one fine morning, he rushed out with a number of his followers,
ripping and goring right and left, and driving everything before him.
It so happened that Smith was not with the workmen that day. Probably
he had gone on some errand for the Druidess; but, however this may have
been, the result was the same, and, in the absence of {036}our hero, the
Boar had it all his own way. In consequence of this triumph, the monster
gave a great feast of hogwash and potatoes to all his subjects,
and their grunting afterwards was so loud and horrible that it was
remembered for a period of many years in the neighbourhood of Windsor.
Smith, as you may suppose, was thoroughly disgusted when he found what
had occurred, and all the more so as he felt that his presence might,
and probably would, have prevented the misfortune. Nothing daunted,
however, he resolved to repair the mischief as quickly as possible. He
sent far and wide throughout the country for all the white horses which
could possibly be secured, and begged as many of their owners as felt
martially inclined to accompany their steeds. This was done under
the sage advice of the toads, to whom it was well known that to white
animals beyond all others has been given the power of resisting the
influences of magic arts. The knowledge that Smith’s movement was
supported by the Druids materially operated to promote the success of
his request. From all quarters white horses and horsemen came flocking
to the appointed place on Ascot Heath, and upon a certain day which he
had fixed the leader found himself at the head of a numerous body of
cavalry. He next proceeded to arm every man with a long wooden spear
pointed with iron, and having given them their watchword and rallying
cry, “Bacon,” marched boldly towards the forest. And now began the
contest with the powers of magic.
The Boar sent forth his legions, having for the nonce converted hundreds
of pigs into creatures bearing the form {037}of man, whilst his own
regiment of sharp-tusked boars acted as a reserve force in their own
shape and form. They could not, however, prevail against the white army,
protected by the wisdom of the toads and backed by the incantations of
the saintly Druids. After a combat along the whole line which lasted for
some hours, the magic forces of the Boar gave way on every side. Their
resistance, indeed, stout and dogged as it had been at first, gave way
at the sight of an enormous ham, boiled and ready for use, which at a
critical moment of the contest was displayed by the orders of Smith at
the top of a long pole. No porcine nature could withstand this spell,
sure be-tokener of the fate of every vanquished and slaughtered pig. The
enchanted animals (as the toads had privately told Smith would certainly
be the case) resumed their natural shape by hundreds at the sight
of this wondrous emblem, and fled with wild grunts into the forest,
followed by the victorious army. On every side the white horsemen rode
down the flying porkers, impaling them on their iron-tipped spears, and
shouting “Bacon” until the forest rang again with the martial sound.
Smith himself performed prodigies of valour, overthrowing and slaying
numbers of the foe, and greatly assisting in bringing about the complete
and terrible defeat which befell the forces of the Boar.
So it was that towards eventide the battle was practically over, for not
a pig but had resumed his natural shape, not a foe but had either
fallen or fled into the deep recesses of the forest and sought safety in
ignominious concealment from the face of day. Yet fast within his lair
remained the Great Boar himself, and no one {038}had as yet beheld him
upon that day so fatal to his tribe. Why or wherefore he had not headed
his troops is more than I can say. One would have supposed that his
presence would have encouraged them, and that his continued seclusion
within his lair must have been the most foolish proceeding on the part
of the chief of an army who had so much at stake. But whatever reason
he had, it is certain that he never appeared, and his people were
slaughtered right and left without his ever coming to the rescue.
Smith, however, was not to be treated in this manner by his mighty
enemy. Unless the latter were dealt with in some satisfactory way, he
knew well enough that his victory would have been all in vain, and that
the evil with which his country had so long been afflicted would be by
no means ended. He hesitated not, therefore, to push boldly forward into
the heart of the forest, and seek the tyrant in his lair. The wood was
uncommonly thick, and progress extremely difficult. Gigantic brambles
formed an almost insuperable barrier, twining round the legs of the
traveller in a manner remarkably disagreeable, and forming at certain
places an almost impregnable network of defence. The bushes, too, grew
thickly where the brambles did not, huge oaks stood about wherever there
was any space clear from bush and bramble, strange weeds cropped up
around, and altogether the place was as wild and difficult of access
as you can well imagine. Yet Smith pushed bravely on, with some of his
chosen companions, until he suddenly found himself in an open space some
sixty feet square, almost entirely surrounded by oak-trees, plentifully
encircled by ivy of the most luxuriant growth. As he entered {039}this
space, a deep voice uttered these words in terrible accents:--
“How dares the child of loathsome toad.
Unasked to enter this abode?
No longer press thy childish whim,
Back! or I tear thee limb from limb.”
The followers of the great deliverer were visibly staggered by these
awful words, more especially as the speaker was nowhere to be seen.
Smith himself, however, being perfectly prepared for some such
proceeding on the part of his enemy, was not for a moment disconcerted
in the smallest degree. By the advice of the powers which had directed
and shielded him throughout the whole of his arduous enterprise, he had
armed himself with an oaken staff, cut from a sacred tree which grew
near to my banks, and which was held in peculiar estimation by the
people. This staff, having been dipped in my river, and afterwards
heavily tipped with lead, was a weapon of considerable power, and the
gallant Smith brandished it on high above his head as he replied to his
invisible enemy in the following words:--
“Boast loud and long, thou villain Boar,
And trust in dealings magic;
More humbly shalt thou shortly roar,
And meet an ending tragic.
Come forth and try! I thee defy,
By mighty aid of Druid,
And this good staff, which lately I
Have dipt in Thames’s fluid.
Come forth, I say! No more delay!
You rascal! what, you _won’t_ stir?
I brand thee, in the face of day,
A vile and hideous monster! ”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when a horrible {040}noise
between a grunt and a roar burst upon the ears of the attacking party,
and the Great Boar of Windsor broke from his lair and rushed furiously
upon his enemies. His eyes glared like fireballs--his bristles were
erect and awful to see--his tusks seemed sharper and more enormous than
any one would have supposed possible--and his whole appearance evinced
such a mixture of strength and ferocity as might well have caused
the stoutest heart to quail before his approach. Fury was in his
countenance, and frightful was the expression of his face as he charged
headlong down upon Smith, with a force which it seemed impossible to
withstand. Uttering his war-cry in the shape of a suppressed but horrid
grunt, he held his head low, and was evidently bent upon ripping up the
intruder with the least possible delay.
To be ripped up, however, was by no means Smith’s intention. Springing
hastily aside, he dealt the Boar a blow with his staff as he passed in
the mad career which he was unable to check. The blow, dealt with the
hero’s full force upon the back of the monster’s head, changed his grunt
into a squeak of pain, but otherwise had no visible effect upon him.
Rendered doubly furious by the failure of his first rush, the Boar now
turned upon some of Smith’s companions, upon whom he trusted to have
wreaked an easy vengeance. But, with admirable sagacity, Smith had
foreseen the possibility of such an occurrence, and, instructed by the
toads, had carefully provided against it. Each of his followers who had
entered the lair, besides being armed with spears as I have described,
had in his hand a short stick upon the end of which was fastened a
sausage.
The {041}order given was, that, if the Boar attacked, this should simply
be held out in front of the person in danger, which order you may well
believe was faithfully obeyed. The effect was certainly marvellous. At
the sight of each sausage the Boar’s powers appeared to fail him, and
he turned with a disappointed groan to find another victim. One man,