{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_7098/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_7098","id":"gutenberg_7098","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7098","summary":null,"tags":["Arthurian Legends","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Geographical myths -- Juvenile literature","Legends -- Juvenile literature","Mythology -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"Produced by Nathan Harris, Eric Eldred, Charles Franks\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.\n\n\n\n\nTALES OF THE ENCHANTED ISLANDS OF THE ATLANTIC\n\n\nBY\n\nTHOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON\n\n\nTO\n\nGeneral Sir George Wentworth Higginson, K. C. B.\n\n_Gyldernscroft, Marlow, England_\n\n\n\nTHIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED, IN TOKEN OF KINDRED AND OF OLD FAMILY\nFRIENDSHIPS, CORDIALLY PRESERVED INTO THE PRESENT GENERATION\n\n\nTHESE LEGENDS UNITE THE TWO SIDES OF THE ATLANTIC AND FORM A PART OF THE\nCOMMON HERITAGE OF THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING RACE\n\n\n\n\nPreface\n\nHawthorne in his _Wonder Book_ has described the beautiful Greek\nmyths and traditions, but no one has yet made similar use of the wondrous\ntales that gathered for more than a thousand years about the islands of\nthe Atlantic deep. Although they are a part of the mythical period of\nAmerican history, these hazy legends were altogether disdained by the\nearlier historians; indeed, George Bancroft made it a matter of actual\npride that the beginning of the American annals was bare and literal. But\nin truth no national history has been less prosaic as to its earlier\ntraditions, because every visitor had to cross the sea to reach it, and\nthe sea has always been, by the mystery of its horizon, the fury of its\nstorms, and the variableness of the atmosphere above it, the foreordained\nland of romance.\n\nIn all ages and with all sea-going races there has always been something\nespecially fascinating about an island amid the ocean. Its very existence\nhas for all explorers an air of magic. An island offers to us heights\nrising from depths; it exhibits that which is most fixed beside that which\nis most changeable, the fertile beside the barren, and safety after\ndanger. The ocean forever tends to encroach on the island, the island upon\nthe ocean. They exist side by side, friends yet enemies. The island\nsignifies safety in calm, and yet danger in storm; in a tempest the sailor\nrejoices that he is not near it; even if previously bound for it, he puts\nabout and steers for the open sea. Often if he seeks it he cannot reach\nit. The present writer spent a winter on the island of Fayal, and saw in a\nstorm a full-rigged ship drift through the harbor disabled, having lost\nher anchors; and it was a week before she again made the port.\n\nThere are groups of islands scattered over the tropical ocean,\nespecially, to which might well be given Herman Melville's name, \"Las\nEncantadas,\" the Enchanted Islands. These islands, usually volcanic, have\nno vegetation but cactuses or wiry bushes with strange names; no\ninhabitants but insects and reptiles--lizards, spiders, snakes,--with vast\ntortoises which seem of immemorial age, and are coated with seaweed and\nthe slime of the ocean. If there are any birds, it is the strange and\nheavy penguin, the passing albatross, or the Mother Cary's chicken, which\nhas been called the humming bird of ocean, and here finds a place for its\nyoung. By night these birds come for their repose; at earliest dawn they\ntake wing and hover over the sea, leaving the isle deserted. The only busy\nor beautiful life which always surrounds it is that of a myriad species of\nfish, of all forms and shapes, and often more gorgeous than any\nbutterflies in gold and scarlet and yellow.\n\nOnce set foot on such an island and you begin at once to understand the\nlegends of enchantment which ages have collected around such spots. Climb\nto its heights, you seem at the masthead of some lonely vessel, kept\nforever at sea. You feel as if no one but yourself had ever landed there;\nand yet, perhaps, even there, looking straight downward, you see below you\nin some crevice of the rock a mast or spar of some wrecked vessel,\nencrusted with all manner of shells and uncouth vegetable growth. No\nmatter how distant the island or how peacefully it seems to lie upon the\nwater, there may be perplexing currents that ever foam and swirl about it\n--currents which are, at all tides and in the calmest weather, as dangerous\nas any tempest, and which make compass untrustworthy and helm powerless.\nIt is to be remembered also that an island not only appears and disappears\nupon the horizon in brighter or darker skies, but it varies its height and\nshape, doubles itself in mirage, or looks as if broken asunder, divided\ninto two or three. Indeed the buccaneer, Cowley, writing of one such\nisland which he had visited, says: \"My fancy led me to call it Cowley's\nEnchanted Isle, for we having had a sight of it upon several points of the\ncompass, it appeared always in so many different forms; sometimes like a\nruined fortification; upon another point like a great city.\"\n\nIf much of this is true even now, it was far truer before the days of\nColumbus, when men were constantly looking westward across the Atlantic,\nand wondering what was beyond. In those days, when no one knew with\ncertainty whether the ocean they observed was a sea or a vast lake, it was\noften called \"The Sea of Darkness.\" A friend of the Latin poet, Ovid,\ndescribing the first approach to this sea, says that as you sail out upon\nit the day itself vanishes, and the world soon ends in perpetual\ndarkness:--\n\n  \"Quo Ferimur? Ruit ipsa Dies, orbemque relictum\n  Ultima perpetuis claudit natura tenebris.\"\n\nNevertheless, it was the vague belief of many nations that the abodes of\nthe blest lay somewhere beyond it--in the \"other world,\" a region half\nearthly, half heavenly, whence the spirits of the departed could not cross\nthe water to return;--and so they were constantly imagining excursions\nmade by favored mortals to enchanted islands. To add to the confusion,\nactual islands in the Atlantic were sometimes discovered and actually lost\nagain, as, for instance, the Canaries, which were reached and called the\nFortunate Isles a little before the Christian era, and were then lost to\nsight for thirteen centuries ere being visited again.\n\nThe glamour of enchantment was naturally first attached by Europeans to\nislands within sight of their own shores--Irish, Welsh, Breton, or\nSpanish,--and then, as these islands became better known, men's\nimaginations carried the mystery further out over the unknown western sea.\nThe line of legend gradually extended itself till it formed an imaginary\nchart for Columbus; the aged astronomer, Toscanelli, for instance,\nsuggesting to him the advantage of making the supposed island of Antillia\na half-way station; just as it was proposed, long centuries after, to find\na station for the ocean telegraph in the equally imaginary island of\nJacquet, which has only lately disappeared from the charts. With every\nstep in knowledge the line of fancied stopping-places rearranged itself,\nthe fictitious names flitting from place to place on the maps, and\nsometimes duplicating themselves. Where the tradition itself has vanished\nwe find that the names with which it associated itself are still assigned,\nas in case of Brazil and the Antilles, to wholly different localities.\n\nThe order of the tales in the present work follows roughly the order of\ndevelopment, giving first the legends which kept near the European shore,\nand then those which, like St. Brandan's or Antillia, were assigned to the\nopen sea or, like Norumbega or the Isle of Demons, to the very coast of\nAmerica. Every tale in this book bears reference to some actual legend,\nfollowed more or less closely, and the authorities for each will be found\ncarefully given in the appendix for such readers as may care to follow the\nsubject farther. It must be remembered that some of these imaginary\nislands actually remained on the charts of the British admiralty until\nwithin a century. If even the exact science of geographers retained them\nthus long, surely romance should embalm them forever.\n\nCAMBRIDGE, MASS.\n\n\n\nContents\n\nI. The Story of Atlantis\n\nII. Taliessin of the Radiant Brow\n\nIII. The Swan-Children of Lir\n\nIV. Usheen in the Island of Youth\n\nV. Bran the Blessed\n\nVI. The Castle of the Active Door\n\nVII. Merlin the Enchanter\n\nVIII. Sir Lancelot of the Lake\n\nIX. The Half-Man\n\nX. King Arthur at Avalon\n\nXI. Maelduin's Voyage\n\nXII. The Voyage of St. Brandan\n\nXIII. Kirwan's Search for Hy-Brasail\n\nXIV. The Isle of Satan's Hand\n\nXV. Antillia, the Island of the Seven Cities\n\nXVI. Harald the Viking\n\nXVII. The Search for Norumbega\n\nXVIII. The Guardians of the St. Lawrence\n\nXIX. The Island of Demons\n\nXX. Bimini and the Fountain of Youth\n\n_Notes_\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nTHE STORY OF ATLANTIS\n\n\nThe Greek sage Socrates, when he was but a boy minding his father's\ngoats, used to lie on the grass under the myrtle trees; and, while the\ngoats grazed around him, he loved to read over and over the story which\nSolon, the law-giver and poet, wrote down for the great-grandfather of\nSocrates, and which Solon had always meant to make into a poem, though he\ndied without doing it. But this was briefly what he wrote in prose:--\n\n\"I, Solon, was never in my life so surprised as when I went to Egypt for\ninstruction in my youth, and there, in the temple of Sais, saw an aged\npriest who told me of the island of Atlantis, which was sunk in the sea\nthousands of years ago. He said that in the division of the earth the gods\nagreed that the god Poseidon, or Neptune, should have, as his share, this\ngreat island which then lay in the ocean west of the Mediterranean Sea,\nand was larger than all Asia. There was a mortal maiden there whom\nPoseidon wished to marry, and to secure her he surrounded the valley where\nshe dwelt with three rings of sea and two of land so that no one could\nenter; and he made underground springs, with water hot or cold, and\nsupplied all things needful to the life of man. Here he lived with her for\nmany years, and they had ten sons; and these sons divided the island among\nthem and had many children, who dwelt there for more than a thousand\nyears. They had mines of gold and silver, and pastures for elephants, and\nmany fragrant plants. They erected palaces and dug canals; and they built\ntheir temples of white, red, and black stone, and covered them with gold\nand silver. In these were statues of gold, especially one of the god\nPoseidon driving six winged horses. He was so large as to touch the roof\nwith his head, and had a hundred water-nymphs around him, riding on\ndolphins. The islanders had also baths and gardens and sea-walls, and they\nhad twelve hundred ships and ten thousand chariots. All this was in the\nroyal city alone, and the people were friendly and good and\nwell-affectioned towards all. But as time went on they grew less so, and\nthey did not obey the laws, so that they offended heaven. In a single day\nand night the island disappeared and sank beneath the sea; and this is why\nthe sea in that region grew so impassable and impenetrable, because there\nis a quantity of shallow mud in the way, and this was caused by the\nsinking of a single vast island.\"\n\n\"This is the tale,\" said Solon, \"which the old Egyptian priest told to\nme.\" And Solon's tale was read by Socrates, the boy, as he lay in the\ngrass; and he told it to his friends after he grew up, as is written in\nhis dialogues recorded by his disciple, Plato. And though this great\nisland of Atlantis has never been seen again, yet a great many smaller\nislands have been found in the Atlantic Ocean, and they have sometimes\nbeen lost to sight and found again.\n\nThere is, also, in this ocean a vast tract of floating seaweed, called by\nsailors the Sargasso Sea,--covering a region as large as France,--and this\nhas been thought by many to mark the place of a sunken island. There are\nalso many islands, such as the Azores, which have been supposed at\ndifferent times to be fragments of Atlantis; and besides all this, the\nremains of the vanished island have been looked for in all parts of the\nworld. Some writers have thought it was in Sweden, others in Spitzbergen,\nothers in Africa, in Palestine, in America. Since the depth of the\nAtlantic has been more thoroughly sounded, a few writers have maintained\nthat the inequalities of its floor show some traces of the submerged\nAtlantis, but the general opinion of men of science is quite the other\nway. The visible Atlantic islands are all, or almost all, they say, of\nvolcanic origin; and though there are ridges in the bottom of the ocean,\nthey do not connect the continents.\n\nAt any rate, this was the original story of Atlantis, and the legends\nwhich follow in these pages have doubtless all grown, more or less, out of\nthis first tale which Socrates told.\n\n\n\nII\n\nTALIESSIN OF THE RADIANT BROW\n\nIn times past there were enchanted islands in the Atlantic Ocean, off the\ncoast of Wales, and even now the fishermen sometimes think they see them.\nOn one of these there lived a man named Tegid Voel and his wife called\nCardiwen. They had a son, the ugliest boy in the world, and Cardiwen\nformed a plan to make him more attractive by teaching him all possible\nwisdom. She was a great magician and resolved to boil a large caldron full\nof knowledge for her son, so that he might know all things and be able to\npredict all that was to happen. Then she thought people would value him in\nspite of his ugliness. But she knew that the caldron must burn a year and\na day without ceasing, until three blessed drops of the water of knowledge\nwere obtained from it; and those three drops would give all the wisdom she\nwanted.\n\nSo she put a boy named Gwion to stir the caldron and a blind man named\nMorda to feed the fire; and made them promise never to let it cease\nboiling for a year and a day. She herself kept gathering magic herbs and\nputting them into it. One day when the year was nearly over, it chanced\nthat three drops of the liquor flew out of the caldron and fell on the\nfinger of Gwion. They were fiery hot, and he put his finger to his mouth,\nand the instant he tasted them he knew that they were the enchanted drops\nfor which so much trouble had been taken. By their magic he at once\nforesaw all that was to come, and especially that Cardiwen the enchantress\nwould never forgive him.\n\nThen Gwion fled. The caldron burst in two, and all the liquor flowed\nforth, poisoning some horses which drank it. These horses belonged to a\nking named Gwyddno. Cardiwen came in and saw all the toil of the whole\nyear lost. Seizing a stick of wood, she struck the blind man Morda\nfiercely on the head, but he said, \"I am innocent. It was not I who did\nit.\" \"True,\" said Cardiwen; \"it was the boy Gwion who robbed me;\" and she\nrushed to pursue him. He saw her and fled, changing into a hare; but she\nbecame a greyhound and followed him. Running to the water, he became a\nfish; but she became another and chased him below the waves. He turned\nhimself into a bird, when she became a hawk and gave him no rest in the\nsky. Just as she swooped on him, he espied a pile of winnowed wheat on the\nfloor of a barn, and dropping upon it, he became one of the wheat-grains.\nChanging herself into a high-crested black hen, Cardiwen scratched him up\nand swallowed him, when he changed at last into a boy again and was so\nbeautiful that she could not kill him outright, but wrapped him in a\nleathern bag and cast him into the sea, committing him to the mercy of\nGod. This was on the twenty-ninth of April.\n\nNow Gwyddno had a weir for catching fish on the sea-strand near his\ncastle, and every day in May he was wont to take a hundred pounds' worth\nof fish. He had a son named Elphin, who was always poor and unsuccessful,\nbut that year the father had given the son leave to draw all the fish from\nthe weir, to see if good luck would ever befall him and give him something\nwith which to begin the world.\n\nWhen Elphin went next to draw the weir, the man who had charge of it said\nin pity, \"Thou art always unlucky; there is nothing in the weir but a\nleathern bag, which is caught on one of the poles.\" \"How do we know,\" said\nElphin, \"that it may not contain the value of a hundred pounds?\" Taking up\nthe bag and opening it, the man saw the forehead of the boy and said to\nElphin, \"Behold, what a radiant brow\" (Taliessin). \"Let him be called\nTaliessin,\" said Elphin. Then he lifted the boy and placed him sorrowfully\nbehind him; and made his horse amble gently, that before had been\ntrotting, and carried him as softly as if he had been sitting in the\neasiest chair in the world, and the boy of the radiant brow made a song to\nElphin as they went along.\n\n  \"Never in Gwyddno's weir\n  Was there such good luck as this night.\n  Fair Elphin, dry thy cheeks!\n  Being too sad will not avail,\n  Although thou thinkest thou hast no gain.\n  Too much grief will bring thee no good;\n  Nor doubt the miracles of the Almighty:\n  Although I am but little, I am highly gifted.\n  From seas, and from mountains,\n  And from the depths of rivers,\n  God brings wealth to the fortunate man.\n  Elphin of lively qualities,\n  Thy resolution is unmanly:\n  Thou must not be oversorrowful:\n  Better to trust in God than to forebode ill.\n  Weak and small as I am,\n  On the foaming beach of the ocean,\n  In the day of trouble I shall be\n  Of more service to thee than three hundred salmon.\n  Elphin of notable qualities,\n  Be not displeased at thy misfortune:\n  Although reclined thus weak in my bag,\n  There lies a virtue in my tongue.\n  While I continue thy protector\n  Thou hast not much to fear.\"\n\nThen Elphin asked him, \"Art thou man or spirit?\" And in answer the boy\nsang to him this tale of his flight from the woman:--\n\n  \"I have fled with vigor, I have fled as a frog,\n  I have fled in the semblance of a crow scarcely finding rest;\n  I have fled vehemently, I have fled as a chain of lightning,\n  I have fled as a roe into an entangled thicket;\n  I have fled as a wolf-cub, I have fled as a wolf in the wilderness,\n  I have fled as a fox used to many swift bounds and quirks;\n  I have fled as a martin, which did not avail;\n  I have fled as a squirrel that vainly hides,\n  I have fled as a stag's antler, of ruddy course,\n  I have fled as an iron in a glowing fire,\n  I have fled as a spear-head, of woe to such as have a wish for it;\n  I have fled as a fierce bull bitterly fighting,\n  I have fled as a bristly boar seen in a ravine,\n  I have fled as a white grain of pure wheat;\n  Into a dark leathern bag I was thrown,\n  And on a boundless sea I was sent adrift;\n\n\n  Which was to me an omen of being tenderly nursed,\n  And the Lord God then set me at liberty.\"\n\nThen Elphin came with Taliessin to the house of his father, and Gwyddno\nasked him if he had a good haul at the fish-weir. \"I have something better\nthan fish.\" \"What is that?\" asked the father. \"I have a bard,\" said\nElphin. \"Alas, what will he profit thee?\" said Gwyddno, to which Taliessin\nreplied, \"He will profit him more than the weir ever profited thee.\" Said\nGwyddno, \"Art thou able to speak, and thou so little?\" Then Taliessin\nsaid, \"I am better able to speak than thou to question me.\"\n\nFrom this time Elphin always prospered, and he and his wife cared for\nTaliessin tenderly and lovingly, and the boy dwelt with him until he was\nthirteen years old, when Elphin went to make a Christmas visit to his\nuncle Maelgwyn, who was a great king and held open court. There were four\nand twenty bards there, and all proclaimed that no king had a wife so\nbeautiful as the queen, or a bard so wise as the twenty-four, who all\nagreed upon this decision. Elphin said, on the contrary, that it was he\nhimself who had the most beautiful wife and the wisest bard, and for this\nhe was thrown into prison. Taliessin learning this, set forth from home to\nvisit the palace and free his adoptive father, Elphin.\n\nIn those days it was the custom of kings to sit in the hall and dine in\nroyal state with lords and bards about them who should keep proclaiming\nthe greatness and glory of the king and his knights. Taliessin placed\nhimself in a quiet corner, waiting for the four and twenty bards to pass,\nand as each one passed by, Taliessin made an ugly face, and gave a sound\nwith his finger on his lips, thus, \"Blerwm, Blerwm.\" Each bard went by and\nbowed himself before the king, but instead of beginning to chant his\npraises, could only play \"Blerwm, Blerwm\" on the lips, as the boy had\ndone. The king was amazed and thought they must be intoxicated, so he sent\none of his lords to them, telling them to behave themselves and remember\nwhere they were. Twice and thrice he told them, but they could only repeat\nthe same foolishness, until at last the king ordered one of his squires to\ngive a blow to the chief bard, and the squire struck him a blow with a\nbroom, so that he fell back on his seat. Then he arose and knelt before\nthe king, and said, \"Oh, honorable king, be it known unto your grace that\nit is not from too much drinking that we are dumb, but through the\ninfluence of a spirit which sits in the corner yonder in the form of a\nchild.\" Then the king bade a squire to bring Taliessin before him, and he\nasked the boy who he was. He answered:--\n\n  \"Primary chief bard I am to Elphin,\n  And my original country is the region of the summer stars;\n  I am a wonder whose origin is not known;\n  I have been fostered in the land of the Deity,\n  I have been teacher to all intelligences,\n  I am able to instruct the whole universe.\n  I was originally little Gwion,\n  And at length I am Taliessin.\"\n\nThen the king and his nobles wondered much, for they had never heard the\nlike from a boy so young. The king then called his wisest bard to answer\nTaliessin, but he could only play \"Blerwm\" on his lips as before, and\neach of the king's four and twenty bards tried in the same way and could\ndo nothing more. Then the king bade Taliessin sing again, and he began:--\n\n  \"Discover thou what is\n  The strong creature from before the flood,\n  Without flesh, without bone,\n  Without vein, without blood,\n  Without head, without feet;\n  It will neither be older nor younger\n  Than at the beginning;\n  Great God! how the sea whitens\n  When first it comes!\n  Great are its gusts\n  When it comes from the south;\n  Great are its evaporations\n  When it strikes on coasts.\n  It is in the field, it is in the wood,\n  Without hand and without foot,\n  Without signs of old age,\n  It is also so wide,\n  As the surface of the earth;\n  And it was not born,\n  Nor was it seen.\n  It will cause consternation\n  Wherever God willeth.\n  On sea and on land\n\n  It neither sees, nor is seen.\n  Its course is devious,\n  And will not come when desired.\n  On land and on sea\n  It is indispensable.\n  It is without equal,\n  It is many-sided;\n  It is not confined,\n  It is incomparable;\n  It comes from four quarters;\n  It is noxious, it is beneficial;\n  It is yonder, it is here;\n  It will decompose,\n  But it will not repair the injury;\n  It will not suffer for its doings,\n  Seeing it is blameless.\n  One Being has prepared it,\n  Out of all creatures,\n  By a tremendous blast,\n  To wreak vengeance\n  On Maelgwyn Gwynedd.\"\n\nAnd while he was thus singing his verse near the door, there came\nsuddenly a mighty storm of wind, so that the king and all his nobles\nthought the castle would fall on their heads. They saw that Taliessin had\nnot merely been singing the song of the wind, but seemed to have power to\ncommand it. Then the king hastily ordered that Elphin should be brought\nfrom his dungeon and placed before Taliessin, and the chains came loose\nfrom his feet, and he was set free.\n\nAs they rode away from the court, the king and his courtiers rode with\nthem, and Taliessin bade Elphin propose a race with the king's horses.\nFour and twenty horses were chosen, and Taliessin got four and twenty\ntwigs of holly which he had burnt black, and he ordered the youth who was\nto ride Elphin's horse to let all the others set off before him, and bade\nhim as he overtook each horse to strike him with a holly twig and throw it\ndown. Then he had him watch where his own horse should stumble and throw\ndown his cap at the place. The race being won, Taliessin brought his\nmaster to the spot where the cap lay; and put workmen to dig a hole there.\nWhen they had dug deeply enough they found a caldron full of gold, and\nTaliessin said, \"Elphin, this is my payment to thee for having taken me\nfrom the water and reared me until now.\" And on this spot stands a pool of\nwater until this day.\n\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE SWAN-CHILDREN OF LIR\n\n\nKing Lir of Erin had four young children who were cared for tenderly at\nfirst by their stepmother, the new queen; but there came a time when she\ngrew jealous of the love their father bore them, and resolved that she\nwould endure it no longer. Sometimes there was murder in her heart, but\nshe could not bear the thought of that wickedness, and she resolved at\nlast to choose another way to rid herself of them. One day she took them\nto drive in her chariot:--Finola, who was eight years old, with her three\nyounger brothers,--Aodh, Fiacre, and little Conn, still a baby. They were\nbeautiful children, the legend says, with skins white and soft as swans'\nfeathers, and with large blue eyes and very sweet voices. Reaching a lake,\nshe told them that they might bathe in the clear water; but so soon as\nthey were in it she struck them with a fairy wand,--for she was of the\nrace of the Druids, who had magical power,--and she turned them into four\nbeautiful snow-white swans. But they still had human voices, and Finola\nsaid to her, \"This wicked deed of thine shall be punished, for the doom\nthat awaits thee will surely be worse than ours.\" Then Finola asked, \"How\nlong shall we be in the shape of swans?\" \"For three hundred years,\" said\nthe woman, \"on smooth Lake Darvra; then three hundred years on the sea of\nMoyle\" (this being the sea between Ireland and Scotland); \"and then three\nhundred years at Inis Glora, in the Great Western Sea\" (this was a rocky\nisland in the Atlantic). \"Until the Tailkenn (St. Patrick) shall come to\nIreland and bring the Christian faith, and until you hear the Christian\nbell, you shall not be freed. Neither your power nor mine can now bring\nyou back to human shape; but you shall keep your human reason and your\nGaelic speech, and you shall sing music so sweet that all who hear it\nshall gladly listen.\"\n\nShe left them, and ere long their father, King Lir, came to the shore and\nheard their singing. He asked how they came to have human voices. \"We are\nthy four children,\" said Finola, \"changed into swans by our stepmother's\njealousy.\" \"Then come and live with me,\" said her sorrowing father. \"We\nare not permitted to leave the lake,\" she said, \"or live with our people\nany more. But we are allowed to dwell together and to keep our reason and\nour speech, and to sing sweet music to you.\" Then they sang, and the king\nand all his followers were at first amazed and then lulled to sleep.\n\nThen King Lir returned and met the cruel stepmother at her father's\npalace. When her father, King Bove, was told what she had done, he was hot\nwith anger. \"This wicked deed,\" he said, \"shall bring severer punishment\non thee than on the innocent children, for their suffering shall end, but\nthine never shall.\" Then King Bove asked her what form of existence would\nbe most terrible to her. She replied, \"That of a demon of the air.\" \"Be it\nso,\" said her father, who had also Druidical power. He struck her with his\nwand, and she became a bat, and flew away with a scream, and the legend\nsays, \"She is still a demon of the air and shall be a demon of the air\nuntil the end of time.\"\n\nAfter this, the people of all the races that were in Erin used to come\nand encamp by the lake and listen to the swans. The happy were made\nhappier by the song, and those who were in grief or illness or pain forgot\ntheir sorrows and were lulled to rest. There was peace in all that region,\nwhile war and tumult filled other lands. Vast changes took place in three\ncenturies--towers and castles rose and fell, villages were built and\ndestroyed, generations were born and died;--and still the swan-children\nlived and sang, until at the end of three hundred years they flew away, as\nwas decreed, to the stormy sea of Moyle; and from that time it was made a\nlaw that no one should kill a swan in Erin.\n\nBeside the sea of Moyle they found no longer the peaceful and wooded\nshores they had known, but only steep and rocky coasts and a wild, wild\nsea. There came a great storm one night, and the swans knew that they\ncould not keep together, so they resolved that if separated they would\nmeet at a rock called Carricknarone. Finola reached there first, and took\nher brothers under her wings, all wet, shivering, and exhausted. Many such\nnights followed, and in one terrible winter storm, when they nestled\ntogether on Carricknarone, the water froze into solid ice around them, and\ntheir feet and wings were so frozen to the rock that when they moved they\nleft the skin of their feet, the quills of their wings, and the feathers\nof their breasts clinging there. When the ice melted, and they swam out\ninto the sea, their bodies smarted with pain until the feathers grew once\nmore.\n\nOne day they saw a glittering troop of horsemen approaching along the\nshore and knew that they were their own kindred, though from far\ngenerations back, the Dedannen or Fairy Host. They greeted each other with\njoy, for the Fairy Host had been sent to seek for the swans; and on\nreturning to their chiefs they narrated what had passed, and the chiefs\nsaid, \"We cannot help them, but we are glad they are living; and we know\nthat at last the enchantment will be broken and that they will be freed\nfrom their sorrows.\" So passed their lives until Finola sang, one day,\n\"The Second Woe has passed--the second period of three hundred years,\"\nwhen they flew out on the broad ocean, as was decreed, and went to the\nisland of Inis Glora. There they spent the next three hundred years, amid\nyet wilder storms and yet colder winds. No more the peaceful shepherds and\nliving neighbors were around them; but often the sailor and fisherman, in\nhis little coracle, saw the white gleam of their wings or heard the sweet\nnotes of their song and knew that the children of Lir were near.\n\nBut the time came when the nine hundred years of banishment were ended,\nand they might fly back to their father's old home, Finnah\u00e0. Flying for\ndays above the sea, they alighted at the palace once so well known, but\neverything was changed by time--even the walls of their father's palace\nwere crumbled and rain-washed. So sad was the sight that they remained one\nday only, and flew back to Inis Glora, thinking that if they must be\nforever solitary, they would live where they had lived last, not where\nthey had been reared.\n\nOne May morning, as the children of Lir floated in the air around the\nisland of Inis Glora, they heard a faint bell sounding across the eastern\nsea. The mist lifted, and they saw afar off, beyond the waves, a vision of\na stately white-robed priest, with attendants around him on the Irish\nshore. They knew that it must be St. Patrick, the Tailkenn, or Tonsured\nOne, who was bringing, as had been so long promised, Christianity to\nIreland. Sailing through the air, above the blue sea, towards their native\ncoast, they heard the bell once more, now near and distinct, and they knew\nthat all evil spirits were fleeing away, and that their own hopes were to\nbe fulfilled. As they approached the land, St. Patrick stretched his hand\nand said, \"Children of Lir, you may tread your native land again.\" And the\nsweet swan-sister, Finola, said, \"If we tread our native land, it can only\nbe to die, after our life of nine centuries. Baptize us while we are yet\nliving.\" When they touched the shore, the weight of all those centuries\nfell upon them; they resumed their human bodies, but they appeared old and\npale and wrinkled. Then St. Patrick baptized them, and they died; but,\neven as he did so, a change swiftly came over them; and they lay side by\nside, once more children, in their white night-clothes, as when their\nfather Lir, long centuries ago, had kissed them at evening and seen their\nblue eyes close in sleep and had touched with gentle hand their white\nforeheads and their golden hair. Their time of sorrow was ended and their\nlast swan-song was sung; but the cruel stepmother seems yet to survive in\nher bat-like shape, and a single glance at her weird and malicious little\nface will lead us to doubt whether she has yet fully atoned for her sin.\n\n\n\nIV\n\nUSHEEN IN THE ISLAND OF YOUTH\n\n\nThe old Celtic hero and poet Usheen or Oisin, whose supposed songs are\nknown in English as those of Ossian, lived to a great old age, surviving\nall others of the race of the Feni, to which he belonged; and he was asked\nin his last years what had given him such length of life. This is the tale\nhe told:--\n\nAfter the fatal battle of Gavra, in which most of the Feni were killed,\nUsheen and his father, the king, and some of the survivors of the battle\nwere hunting the deer with their dogs, when they met a maiden riding on a\nslender white horse with hoofs of gold, and with a golden crescent between\nhis ears. The maiden's hair was of the color of citron and was gathered in\na silver band; and she was clad in a white garment embroidered with\nstrange devices. She asked them why they rode slowly and seemed sad, and\nnot like other hunters; and they replied that it was because of the death\nof their friends and the ruin of their race. When they asked her in turn\nwhence she came, and why, and whether she was married, she replied that\nshe had never had a lover or a husband, but that she had crossed the sea\nfor the love of the great hero and bard Usheen, whom she had never seen.\nThen Usheen was overcome with love for her, but she said that to wed her\nhe must follow her across the sea to the Island of Perpetual Youth. There\nhe would have a hundred horses and a hundred sheep and a hundred silken\nrobes, a hundred swords, a hundred bows, and a hundred youths to follow\nhim; while she would have a hundred maidens to wait on her. But how, he\nasked, was he to reach this island? He was to mount her horse and ride\nbehind her. So he did this, and the slender white horse, not feeling his\nweight, dashed across the waves of the ocean, which did not yield beneath\nhis tread. They galloped across the very sea, and the maiden, whose name\nwas Niam, sang to him as they rode, and this so enchantingly that he\nscarcely knew whether hours passed or days. Sometimes deer ran by them\nover the water, followed by red-eared hounds in full chase; sometimes a\nmaiden holding up an apple of gold; sometimes a beautiful youth; but they\nthemselves rode on always westward.\n\nAt last they drew near an island which was not, Niam said, the island\nthey were seeking; but it was one where a beautiful princess was kept\nunder a spell until some defender should slay a cruel giant who held her\nunder enchantment until she should either wed him or furnish a defender.\nThe youth Usheen, being an Irishman and not easily frightened, naturally\noffered his services as defender, and they waited three days and nights to\ncarry on the conflict. He had fought at home--so the legend says--with\nwild boars, with foreign invaders, and with enchanters, but he never had\nquite so severe a contest as with this giant; but after he had cut off his\nopponent's head and had been healed with precious balm by the beautiful\nprincess, he buried the giant's body in a deep grave and placed above it a\ngreat stone engraved in the Ogham alphabet--in which all the letters are\ngiven in straight lines.\n\nAfter this he and Niam again mounted the white steed and galloped away\nover the waves. Niam was again singing, when soft music began to be heard\nin the distance, as if in the centre of the setting sun. They drew nearer\nand nearer to a shore where the very trees trembled with the multitude of\nbirds that sang upon them; and when they reached the shore, Niam gave one\nnote of song, and a band of youths and maidens came rushing towards them\nand embraced them with eagerness. Then they too sang, and as they did it,\none brought to Usheen a harp of silver and bade him sing of earthly joys.\nHe found himself chanting, as he thought, with peculiar spirit and melody,\nbut as he told them of human joys they kept still and began to weep, till\nat last one of them seized the silver harp and flung it away into a pool\nof water, saying, \"It is the saddest harp in all the world.\"\n\nThen he forgot all the human joys which seemed to those happy people only\nas sorrows compared with their own; and he dwelt with them thenceforward\nin perpetual youth. For a hundred years he chased the deer and went\nfishing in strangely carved boats and joined in the athletic sports of the\nyoung men; for a hundred years the gentle Niam was his wife.\n\nBut one day, when Usheen was by the beach, there floated to his feet what\nseemed a wooden staff, and he drew it from the waves. It was the battered\nfragment of a warrior's lance. The blood stains of war were still on it,\nand as he looked at it he recalled the old days of the Feni, the wars and\ntumult of his youth; and how he had outlived his tribe and all had passed\naway. Niam came softly to him and rested against his shoulder, but it did\nnot soothe his pain, and he heard one of the young men watching him say to\nanother, \"The human sadness has come back into his eyes.\" The people\naround stood watching him, all sharing his sorrow, and knowing that his\ntime of happiness was over and that he would go back among men. So indeed\nit was; Niam and Usheen mounted the white steed again and galloped away\nover the sea, but she had warned him when they mounted that he must never\ndismount for an instant, for that if he once touched the earth, she and\nthe steed would vanish forever, that his youth too would disappear, and\nthat he would be left alone on earth--an old man whose whole generation\nhad vanished.\n\nThey passed, as before, over the sea; the same visions hovered around\nthem, youths and maidens and animals of the chase; they passed by many\nislands, and at last reached the shore of Erin again. As they travelled\nover its plains and among its hills, Oisin looked in vain for his old\ncompanions. A little people had taken their place,--small men and women,\nmounted on horses as small;--and these people gazed in wonder at the\nmighty Usheen. \"We have heard,\" they said, \"of the hero Finn, and the\npoets have written many tales of him and of his people, the Feni. We have\nread in old books that he had a son Usheen who went away with a fairy\nmaiden; but he was never seen again, and there is no race of the Feni\nleft.\" Yet refusing to believe this, and always looking round for the\npeople whom he had known and loved of old, he thought within himself that\nperhaps the Feni were not to be seen because they were hunting fierce\nwolves by night, as they used to do in his boyhood, and that they were\ntherefore sleeping in the daytime; but again an old man said to him, \"The\nFeni are dead.\" Then he remembered that it was a hundred years, and that\nhis very race had perished, and he turned with contempt on the little men\nand their little horses. Three hundred of them as he rode by were trying\nto lift a vast stone, but they staggered under its weight, and at last\nfell and lay beneath it; then leaning from his saddle Usheen lifted the\nstone with one hand and flung it five yards. But with the strain the\nsaddle girth broke, and Usheen came to the ground; the white steed shook\nhimself and neighed, then galloped away, bearing Niam with him, and Usheen\nlay with all his strength gone from him--a feeble old man. The Island of\nYouth could only be known by those who dwelt always within it, and those\nmortals who had once left it could dwell there no more.\n\n\n\nV\n\nBRAN THE BLESSED\n\n\nThe mighty king Bran, a being of gigantic size, sat one day on the cliffs\nof his island in the Atlantic Ocean, near to Hades and the Gates of Night,\nwhen he saw ships sailing towards him and sent men to ask what they were.\nThey were a fleet sent by Matholweh, the king of Ireland, who had sent to\nask for Branwen, Bran's sister, as his wife. Without moving from his rock\nBran bid the monarch land, and sent Branwen back with him as queen.\n\nBut there came a time when Branwen was ill-treated at the palace; they\nsent her into the kitchen and made her cook for the court, and they caused\nthe butcher to come every day (after he had cut up the meat) and give her\na blow on the ear. They also drew up all their boats on the shore for\nthree years, that she might not send for her brother. But she reared a\nstarling in the cover of the kneading-trough, taught it to speak, and told\nit how to find her brother; and then she wrote a letter describing her\nsorrows and bound it to the bird's wing, and it flew to the island and\nalighted on Bran's shoulder, \"ruffling its feathers\" (says the Welsh\nlegend) \"so that the letter was seen, and they knew that the bird had been\nreared in a domestic manner.\" Then Bran resolved to cross the sea, but he\nhad to wade through the water, as no ship had yet been built large enough\nto hold him; and he carried all his musicians (pipers) on his shoulders.\nAs he approached the Irish shore, men ran to the king, saying that they\nhad seen a forest on the sea, where there never before had been a tree,\nand that they had also seen a mountain which moved. Then the king asked\nBranwen, the queen, what it could be. She answered, \"These are the men of\nthe Island of the Mighty, who have come hither to protect me.\" \"What is\nthe forest?\" they asked. \"The yards and masts of ships.\" \"What mountain is\nthat by the side of the ships?\" \"It is Bran my brother, coming to the\nshoal water and rising.\" \"What is the lofty ridge with the lake on each\nside?\" \"That is his nose,\" she said, \"and the two lakes are his fierce\neyes.\"\n\nThen the people were terrified: there was yet a river for Bran to pass,\nand they broke down the bridge which crossed it, but Bran laid himself\ndown and said, \"Who will be a chief, let him be a bridge.\" Then his men\nlaid hurdles on his back, and the whole army crossed over; and that saying\nof his became afterwards a proverb. Then the Irish resolved, in order to\nappease the mighty visitor, to build him a house, because he had never\nbefore had one that would hold him; and they decided to make the house\nlarge enough to contain the two armies, one on each side. They accordingly\nbuilt this house, and there were a hundred pillars, and the builders\ntreacherously hung a leathern bag on each side of each pillar and put an\narmed man inside of each, so that they could all rise by night and kill\nthe sleepers. But Bran's brother, who was a suspicious man, asked the\nbuilders what was in the first bag. \"Meal, good soul,\" they answered; and\nhe, putting his hand in, felt a man's head and crushed it with his mighty\nfingers, and so with the next and the next and with the whole two hundred.\nAfter this it did not take long to bring on a quarrel between the two\narmies, and they fought all day.\n\nAfter this great fight between the men of Ireland and the men of the\nIsles of the Mighty there were but seven of these last who escaped,\nbesides their king Bran, who was wounded in the foot with a poisoned dart.\nThen he knew that he should soon die, but he bade the seven men to cut off\nhis head and told them that they must always carry it with them--that it\nwould never decay and would always be able to speak and be pleasant\ncompany for them. \"A long time will you be on the road,\" he said. \"In\nHarlech you will feast seven years, the birds of Rhiannon singing to you\nall the while. And at the Island of Gwales you will dwell for fourscore\nyears, and you may remain there, bearing the head with you uncorrupted,\nuntil you open the door that looks towards the mainland; and after you\nhave once opened that door you can stay no longer, but must set forth to\nLondon to bury the head, leaving it there to look toward France.\"\n\nSo they went on to Harlech and there stopped to rest, and sat down to eat\nand drink. And there came three birds, which began singing a certain song,\nand all the songs they had ever heard were unpleasant compared with it;\nand the songs seemed to them to be at a great distance from them, over the\nsea, yet the notes were heard as distinctly as if they were close by; and\nit is said that at this repast they continued seven years. At the close of\nthis time they went forth to an island in the sea called Gwales. There\nthey found a fair and regal spot overlooking the ocean and a spacious hall\nbuilt for them. They went into it and found two of its doors open, but the\nthird door, looking toward Cornwall, was closed. \"See yonder,\" said their\nleader Manawydan; \"that is the door we may not open.\" And that night they\nregaled themselves and were joyful. And of all they had seen of food laid\nbefore them, and of all they had heard said, they remembered nothing;\nneither of that, nor of any sorrow whatsoever. There they remained\nfourscore years, unconscious of having ever spent a time more joyous and\nmirthful. And they were not more weary than when first they came, neither\ndid they, any of them, know the time they had been there. It was not more\nirksome for them to have the head with them, than if Bran the Blessed had\nbeen with them himself. And because of these fourscore years, it was\ncalled \"The Entertaining of the Noble Head.\"\n\nOne day said Heilwyn the son of Gwyn, \"Evil betide me, if I do not open\nthe door to know if that is true which is said concerning it.\" So he\nopened the door and looked towards Cornwall. And when they had looked they\nwere as conscious of all the evils they had ever sustained, and of all the\nfriends and companions they had ever lost, and of all the misery that had\nbefallen them, as if all had happened in that very spot; and especially of\nthe fate of their lord. And because of their perturbation they could not\nrest, but journeyed forth with the head towards London. And they buried\nthe head in the White Mount.\n\nThe island called Gwales is supposed to be that now named Gresholm, eight\nor ten miles off the coast of Pembrokeshire; and to this day the Welsh\nsailors on that coast talk of the Green Meadows of Enchantment lying out\nat sea west of them, and of men who had either landed on them or seen them\nsuddenly vanishing. Some of the people of Milford used to declare that\nthey could sometimes see the Green Islands of the fairies quite\ndistinctly; and they believed that the fairies went to and fro between\ntheir islands and the shore through a subterranean gallery under the sea.\nThey used, indeed, to make purchases in the markets of Milford or\nLanghorne, and this they did sometimes without being seen and always\nwithout speaking, for they seemed to know the prices of the things they\nwished to buy and always laid down the exact sum of money needed. And\nindeed, how could the seven companions of the Enchanted Head have spent\neighty years of incessant feasting on an island of the sea, without\nsometimes purchasing supplies from the mainland?\n\n\n\nVI\n\nTHE CASTLE OF THE ACTIVE DOOR\n\n  Perfect is my chair in Caer Sidi;\n  Plague and age hurt not who's in it--\n  They know, Manawydan and Pryderi.\n  Three organs round a fire sing before it,\n  And about its points are ocean's streams\n  And the abundant well above it--\n  Sweeter than white wine the drink in it.\n\n\nPeredur, the knight, rode through the wild woods of the Enchanted Island\nuntil he arrived on clear ground outside the forest. Then he beheld a\ncastle on level ground in the middle of a meadow; and round the castle\nflowed a stream, and inside the castle there were large and spacious halls\nwith great windows. Drawing nearer the castle, he saw it to be turning\nmore rapidly than any wind blows. On the ramparts he saw archers shooting\nso vigorously that no armor would protect against them; there were also\nmen blowing horns so loud that the earth appeared to tremble; and at the\ngates were lions, in iron chains, roaring so violently that one might\nfancy that the castle and the woods were ready to be uprooted. Neither the\nlions nor the warriors resisted Peredur, but he found a woman sitting by\nthe gate, who offered to carry him on her back to the hall. This was the\nqueen Rhiannon, who, having been accused of having caused the death of her\nchild, was sentenced to remain seven years sitting by the gate, to tell\nher story to every one, and to offer to carry all strangers on her back\ninto the castle.\n\nBut so soon as Peredur had entered it, the castle vanished away, and he\nfound himself standing on the bare ground. The queen Rhiannon was left\nbeside him, and she remained on the island with her son Pryderi and his\nwife. Queen Rhiannon married for her second husband a person named\nManawydan. One day they ascended a mound called Arberth which was well\nknown for its wonders, and as they sat there they heard a clap of thunder,\nfollowed by mist so thick that they could not see one another. When it\ngrew light again, they looked around them and found that all dwellings and\nanimals had vanished; there was no smoke or fire anywhere or work of human\nhands; all their household had disappeared, and there were left only\nPryderi and Manawydan with their wives. Wandering from place to place,\nthey found no human beings; but they lived by hunting, fishing, and\ngathering wild honey. After visiting foreign lands, they returned to their\nisland home. One day when they were out hunting, a wild boar of pure white\ncolor sprang from a bush, and as they saw him they retreated, and they saw\nalso the Turning Castle. The boar, watching his opportunity, sprang into\nit, and the dogs followed, and Pryderi said, \"I will go into this castle\nand get tidings of the dogs.\" \"Go not,\" said Manawydan; \"whoever has cast\na spell over this land and deprived us of our dwelling has placed this\ncastle here.\" But Pryderi replied, \"Of a truth I cannot give up my dogs.\"\nSo he watched for the opportunity and went in. He saw neither boar nor\ndogs, neither man nor beast; but on the centre of the castle floor he saw\na fountain with marble work around it, and on the margin of the fountain a\ngolden bowl upon a marble slab, and in the air hung chains, of which he\ncould see no end. He was much delighted with the beauty of the gold and\nthe rich workmanship of the bowl and went up to lay hold of it. The moment\nhe touched it, his fingers clung to the bowl, and his feet to the slab;\nand all his joyousness forsook him so that he could not utter a word. And\nthus he stood.\n\nManawydan waited for him until evening, but hearing nothing either of him\nor of the dogs, he returned home. When he entered, Rhiannon, who was his\nwife and who was also Pryderi's mother, looked at him. \"Where,\" she said,\n\"are Pryderi and the dogs?\" \"This is what has happened to me,\" he said;\nand he told her. \"An evil companion hast thou been,\" she said, \"and a good\ncompanion hast thou lost.\" With these words she went out and proceeded\ntowards the Castle of the Active Door. Getting in, she saw Pryderi taking\nhold of the bowl, and she went towards him. \"What dost thou here?\" she\nsaid, and she took hold of the bowl for herself; and then her hands became\nfast to it, and her feet to the slab, and she could not speak a word. Then\ncame thunder and a fall of mist; thereupon the Castle of the Active Door\nvanished and never was seen again. Rhiannon and Pryderi also vanished.\n\nWhen Kigva, the wife of Pryderi, saw this, she sorrowed so that she cared\nnot if she lived or died. No one was left on the island but Manawydan and\nherself. They wandered away to other lands and sought to earn their\nliving; then they came back to their island, bringing with them one bag of\nwheat which they planted. It throve and grew, and when the time of harvest\ncame it was most promising, so that Manawydan resolved to reap it on the\nmorrow. At break of day he came back to begin; but found nothing left but\nstraw. Every stalk had been cut close to the ground and carried away.\n\nGoing to another field, he found it ripe, but on coming in the morning he\nfound but the straw. \"Some one has contrived my ruin,\" he said; \"I will\nwatch the third field to see what happens. He who stole the first will\ncome to steal this.\"\n\nHe remained through the evening to watch the grain, and at midnight he\nheard loud thunder. He looked and saw coming a host of mice such as no man\ncould number; each mouse took a stalk of the wheat and climbed it, so that\nit bent to the ground; then each mouse cut off the ear and ran away with\nit. They all did this, leaving the stalk bare, and there was not a single\nstraw for which there was not a mouse. He struck among them, but could no\nmore fix his sight on any of them, the legend says, than on flies and\nbirds in the air, except one which seemed heavier than the rest, and moved\nslowly. This one he pursued and caught, put it in his glove and tied it\nwith a string. Taking it home, he showed it to Kigva, and told her that he\nwas going to hang the mouse next day. She advised against it, but he\npersisted, and on the next morning took the animal to the top of the Mound\nof Arberth, where he placed two wooden forks in the ground, and set up a\nsmall gallows.\n\nWhile doing this, he saw a clerk coming to him in old, threadbare\nclothes. It was now seven years since he had seen a human being there,\nexcept the friends he had lost and Kigva who survived them. The clerk bade\nhim good day and said he was going back to his country from England, where\nhe had been singing. Then the clerk asked Manawydan what he was doing.\n\"Hanging a thief,\" said he; and when the clerk saw that it was a mouse, he\noffered a pound to release it, but Manawydan refused. Then a priest came\nriding up and offered him three pounds to release the mouse; but this\noffer was declined. Then he made a noose round the mouse's neck, and while\nhe did this, a bishop's whole retinue came riding towards him. The bishop\nseemed, like everybody else, to be very desirous of rescuing the mouse; he\noffered first seven pounds, and then twenty-four, and then added all his\nhorses and equipages; but Manawydan still refused. The bishop finally\nasked him to name any price he pleased. \"The liberation of Rhiannon and\nPryderi,\" he said. \"Thou shalt have it,\" said the bishop. \"And the removal\nof the enchantment,\" said Manawydan. \"That also,\" said the bishop, \"if you\nwill only restore the mouse.\" \"Why?\" said the other. \"Because,\" said the\nbishop, \"she is my wife.\" \"Why did she come to me?\" asked Manawydan. \"To\nsteal,\" was the reply. \"When it was known that you were inhabiting the\nisland, my household came to me, begging me to transform them into mice.\nThe first and second nights they came alone, but the third night my wife\nand the ladies of the court wished also to accompany them, and I\ntransformed them also; and now you have promised to let her go.\" \"Not so,\"\nsaid the other, \"except with a promise that there shall be no more such\nenchantment practised, and no vengeance on Pryderi and Rhiannon, or on\nme.\" This being promised, the bishop said, \"Now wilt thou release my\nwife?\" \"No, by my faith,\" said Manawydan, \"not till I see Pryderi and\nRhiannon free before my eyes.\" \"Here they are coming,\" said the bishop;\nand when they had been embraced by Manawydan, he let go the mouse; the\nbishop touched it with a wand, and it became the most beautiful young\nwoman that ever was seen. \"Now look round upon the country,\" said the\nbishop, \"and see the dwellings and the crops returned,\" and the\nenchantment was removed.\n\n\"The Land of Illusion and the Realm of Glamour\" is the name given by the\nold romancers to the south-west part of Wales, and to all the islands off\nthe coast. Indeed, it was believed, ever since the days of the Greek\nwriter, Plutarch, that some peculiar magic belonged to these islands; and\nevery great storm that happened among them was supposed to be caused by\nthe death of one of the wondrous enchanters who dwelt in that region. When\nit was over, the islanders said, \"Some one of the mighty has passed away.\"\n\n\n\nVII\n\nMERLIN THE ENCHANTER\n\n\nIn one of the old books called Welsh Triads, in which all things are\nclassed by threes, there is a description of three men called \"The Three\nGenerous Heroes of the Isle of Britain.\" One of these--named Nud or\nNodens, and later called Merlin--was first brought from the sea, it is\nstated, with a herd of cattle consisting of 21,000 milch cows, which are\nsupposed to mean those waves of the sea that the poets often describe as\nWhite Horses. He grew up to be a king and warrior, a magician and prophet,\nand on the whole the most important figure in the Celtic traditions. He\ncame from the sea and at last returned to it, but meanwhile he did great\nworks on land, one of which is said to have been the building of\nStonehenge.\n\nThis is the way, as the old legends tell, in which the vast stones of\nStonehenge came to be placed on Salisbury Plain. It is a thing which has\nalways been a puzzle to every one, inasmuch as their size and weight are\nenormous, and there is no stone of the same description to be found within\nhundreds of miles of Salisbury Plain, where they now stand.\n\nThe legend is that Pendragon, king of England, was led to fight a great\nbattle by seeing a dragon in the air. The battle was won, but Pendragon\nwas killed and was buried on Salisbury Plain, where the fight had taken\nplace. When his brother Uther took his place, Merlin the enchanter advised\nhim to paint a dragon on a flag and bear it always before him to bring\ngood fortune, and this he always did. Then Merlin said to him, \"Wilt thou\ndo nothing more on the Plain of Salisbury, to honor thy brother?\" The King\nsaid, \"What shall be done?\" Then Merlin said, \"I will cause a thing to be\ndone that will endure to the world's end.\" Then he bade Utherpendragon, as\nhe called the new king, to send many ships and men to Ireland, and he\nshowed him stones such as seemed far too large and heavy to bring, but he\nplaced them by his magic art upon the boats and bore them to England; and\nhe devised means to transport them and to set them on end, \"for they shall\nseem fairer so than if they were lying.\" And there they are to this day.\n\nThis was the way in which Merlin would sometimes obtain the favor and\nadmiration of young ladies. There was a maiden of twelve named Nimiane or\nVivian, the daughter of King Dionas, and Merlin changed himself into the\nappearance of \"a fair young squire,\" that he might talk with her beside a\nfountain, described in the legends as \"a well, whereof the springs were\nfair and the water clear and the gravel so fair that it seemed of fine\nsilver.\" By degrees he made acquaintance with the child, who told him who\nshe was, adding, \"And what are you, fair, sweet friend?\" \"Damsel,\" said\nMerlin, \"I am a travelling squire, seeking for my master, who has taught\nme wonderful things.\" \"And what master is that?\" she asked. \"It is one,\"\nhe said, \"who has taught me so much that I could here erect for you a\ncastle, and I could make many people outside to attack it and inside to\ndefend it; nay, I could go upon this water and not wet my feet, and I\ncould make a river where water had never been.\"\n\n\"These are strange feats,\" said the maiden, \"and I wish that I could thus\ndisport myself.\" \"I can do yet greater things,\" said Merlin, \"and no one\ncan devise anything which I cannot do, and I can also make it to endure\nforever.\" \"Indeed,\" said the girl, \"I would always love you if you could\nshow me some such wonders.\" \"For your love,\" he answered, \"I will show you\nsome of these wondrous plays, and I will ask no more of you.\" Then Merlin\nturned and described a circle with a wand and then came and sat by her\nagain at the fountain. At noon she saw coming out of the forest many\nladies and knights and squires, holding each other by the hand and singing\nin the greatest joy; then came men with timbrels and tabours and dancing,\nso that one could not tell one-fourth part of the sports that went on.\nThen Merlin caused an orchard to grow, with all manner of fruit and\nflowers; and the maiden cared for nothing but to listen to their singing,\n\"Truly love begins in joy, but ends in grief.\" The festival continued from\nmid-day to even-song; and King Dionas and his courtiers came out to see\nit, and marvelled whence these strange people came. Then when the carols\nwere ended, the ladies and maidens sat down on the green grass and fresh\nflowers, and the squires set up a game of tilting called quintain upon the\nmeadows and played till even-song; and then Merlin came to the damsel and\nasked if he had done what he promised for her. \"Fair, sweet friend,\" said\nshe, \"you have done so much that I am all yours.\" \"Let me teach you,\" he\nanswered, \"and I will show you many wonders that no woman ever learned so\nmany.\"\n\nMerlin and this young damsel always remained friends, and he taught her\nmany wonderful arts, one of which was (this we must regret) a spell by\nwhich she might put her parents to sleep whenever he visited her; while\nanother lesson was (this being more unexceptionable) in the use of three\nwords, by saying which she might at any time keep at a distance any men\nwho tried to molest her. He stayed eight days near her, and in those days\ntaught her many of the most \"wonderful things that any mortal heart could\nthink of, things past and things that were done and said, and a part of\nwhat was to come; and she put them in writing, and then Merlin departed\nfrom her and came to Benoyk, where the king, Arthur, rested, so that glad\nwere they when they saw Merlin.\"\n\nThe relations between Merlin and Arthur are unlike those ever held\ntowards a king even by an enchanter in any legend. Even in Homer there is\nno one described, except the gods, as having such authority over a ruler.\nMerlin came and went as he pleased and under any form he might please. He\nforetold the result of a battle, ordered up troops, brought aid from a\ndistance. He rebuked the bravest knights for cowardice; as when Ban, Bors,\nand Gawain had concealed themselves behind some bushes during a fight. \"Is\nthis,\" he said to King Arthur and Sir Bors, \"the war and the help that you\ndo to your friends who have put themselves in adventure of death in many a\nneed, and ye come hither to hide for cowardice.\" Then the legend says,\n\"When the king understood the words of Merlin, he bowed his head for\nshame,\" and the other knights acknowledged their fault. Then Merlin took\nthe dragon banner which he had given them and said that he would bear it\nhimself; \"for the banner of a king,\" he said, \"should not be hid in\nbattle,--but borne in the foremost front.\" Then Merlin rode forth and\ncried with a loud voice, \"Now shall be shown who is a knight.\" And the\nknights, seeing Merlin, exclaimed that he was \"a full noble man\"; and\n\"without fail,\" says the legend, \"he was full of marvellous powers and\nstrength of body and great and long stature; but brown he was and lean and\nrough of hair.\" Then he rode in among the enemy on a great black horse;\nand the golden dragon which he had made and had attached to the banner\ngave out from its throat such a flaming fire that the air was black with\nits smoke; and all King Arthur's men began to fight again more stoutly,\nand Arthur himself held the bridle reins in his left hand, and so wielded\nhis sword with his right as to slay two hundred men.\n\nThere was no end to Merlin's disguises--sometimes as an old man,\nsometimes as a boy or a dwarf, then as a woman, then as an ignorant clown;\n--but the legends always give him some object to accomplish, some work to\ndo, and there was always a certain dignity about him, even when helping\nKing Arthur, as he sometimes did, to do wrong things. His fame extended\nover all Britain, and also through Brittany, now a part of France, where\nthe same poetic legends extended. This, for instance, is a very old Breton\nsong about him:--\n\n  MERLIN THE DIVINER\n\n  Merlin! Merlin! where art thou going\n  So early in the day, with thy black dog?\n  Oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi!\n  Oi! oi! oi! oi! oi!\n\n  I have come here to search the way,\n  To find the red egg;\n  The red egg of the marine serpent,\n  By the seaside, in the hollow of the stone.\n\n  I am going to seek in the valley\n  The green water-cress, and the golden grass,\n  And the top branch of the oak,\n  In the wood by the side of the fountain.\n\n  Merlin! Merlin! retrace your steps;\n  Leave the branch on the oak,\n  And the green water-cress in the valley,\n  As well as the golden grass;\n  And leave the red egg of the marine serpent\n  In the foam by the hollow of the stone.\n  Merlin! Merlin! retrace thy steps;\n  There is no diviner but God.\n\nMerlin was supposed to know the past, the present, and the future, and to\nbe able to assume the form of any animal, and even that of a\n_menhir_, or huge standing stone. Before history began he ruled in\nBritain, then a delightful island of flowery meadows. His subjects were\n\"small people\" (fairies), and their lives were a continued festival of\nsinging, playing, and enjoyment. The sage ruled them as a father, his\nfamiliar servant being a tame wolf. He also possessed a kingdom, beneath\nthe waves, where everything was beautiful, the inhabitants being charming\nlittle beings, with waves of long, fair hair falling on their shoulders in\ncurls. Fruits and milk composed the food of all, meat and fish being held\nin abhorrence. The only want felt was of the full light of the sun, which,\ncoming to them through the water, was but faint, and cast no shadow.\n\nHere was the famous workshop where Merlin forged the enchanted sword so\ncelebrated by the bards, and where the stones were found by which alone\nthe sword could be sharpened. Three British heroes were fated to wield\nthis blade in turn; viz., Lemenisk the leaper (_Leim_, meaning leap),\nUtherpendragon, and his son King Arthur. By orders of this last hero, when\nmortally wounded, it was flung into the sea, where it will remain till he\nreturns to restore the rule of his country to the faithful British race.\n\nThe bard once amused and puzzled the court by entering the hall as a\nblind boy led by a greyhound, playing on his harp, and demanding as\nrecompense to be allowed to carry the king's banner in an approaching\nbattle. Being refused on account of his blindness he vanished, and the\nking of Brittany mentioned his suspicions that this was one of Merlin's\nelfin tricks. Arthur was disturbed, for he had promised to give the child\nanything except his honor, his kingdom, his wife, and his sword. However,\nwhile he continued to fret, there entered the hall a poor child about\neight years old, with shaved head, features of livid tint, eyes of light\ngray, barefooted, barelegged, and a whip knotted over his shoulders in the\nmanner affected by horseboys. Speaking and looking like an idiot, he asked\nthe king's permission to bear the royal ensign in the approaching battle\nwith the giant Rion. The courtiers laughed, but Arthur, suspecting a new\njoke on Merlin's part, granted the demand, and then Merlin stood in his\nown proper person before the company.\n\nHe also seems to have taught people many things in real science,\nespecially the women, who were in those days more studious than the men,\nor at least had less leisure. For instance, the legend says of Morgan le\nfay (or la f\u00e9e), King Arthur's sister, \"she was a noble clergesse (meaning\nthat she could read and write, like the clergy), and of astronomy could\nshe enough, for Merlin had her taught, and she learned much of egromancy\n(magic or necromancy); and the best work-woman she was with her hands that\nany man knew in any land, and she had the fairest head and the fairest\nhands under heaven, and shoulders well-shapen; and she had fair eloquence\nand full debonair she was, as long as she was in her right wit; and when\nshe was wroth with any man, she was evil to meet.\" This lady was one of\nMerlin's pupils, but the one whom he loved most and instructed the most\nwas Nimiane or Vivian, already mentioned, who seems to have been to him\nrather a beloved younger sister than anything else, and he taught her so\nmuch that \"at last he might hold himself a fool,\" the legend says, \"and\never she inquired of his cunning and his mysteries, each thing by itself,\nand he let her know all, and she wrote all that he said, as she was well\nlearned in clergie (reading and writing), and learned lightly all that\nMerlin taught her; and when they parted, each of them commended the other\nto God full tenderly.\"\n\nThe form of the enchanter Merlin disappeared from view, at last--for the\nlegends do not admit that his life ever ended--across the sea whence he\ncame.\n\nThe poet Tennyson, to be sure, describes Nimiane or Vivian--the Lady of\nthe Lake--as a wicked enchantress who persuaded Merlin to betray his\nsecrets to her, and then shut him up in an oak tree forever. But other\nlegends seem to show that Tennyson does great injustice to the Lady of the\nLake, that she really loved Merlin even in his age, and therefore\npersuaded him to show her how to make a tower without walls,--that they\nmight dwell there together in peace, and address each other only as\nBrother and Sister. When he had told her, he fell asleep with his head in\nher lap, and she wove a spell nine times around his head, and the tower\nbecame the strongest in the world. Some of the many legends place this\ntower in the forest of Broceliande; while others transport it afar to a\nmagic island, where Merlin dwells with his nine bards, and where Vivian\nalone can come or go through the magic walls. Some legends describe it as\nan enclosure \"neither of iron nor steel nor timber nor of stone, but of\nthe air, without any other thing but enchantment, so strong that it may\nnever be undone while the world endureth.\" Here dwells Merlin, it is said,\nwith nine favorite bards who took with them the thirteen treasures of\nEngland. These treasures are said to have been:--\n\n1. A sword; if any man drew it except the owner, it burst into a flame\nfrom the cross to the point. All who asked it received it; but because of\nthis peculiarity all shunned it.\n\n2. A basket; if food for one man were put into it, when opened it would\nbe found to contain food for one hundred.\n\n3. A horn; what liquor soever was desired was found therein.\n\n4. A chariot; whoever sat in it would be immediately wheresoever he wished.\n\n5. A halter, which was in a staple below the feet of a bed; and whatever\nhorse one wished for in it, he would find it there.\n\n6. A knife, which would serve four-and twenty men at meat all at once.\n\n7. A caldron; if meat were put into it to boil for a coward, it would\nnever be boiled; but if meat were put in it for a brave man, it would be\nboiled forthwith.\n\n8. A whetstone; if the sword of a brave man were sharpened thereon, and\nany one were wounded therewith, he would be sure to die; but if it were\nthat of a coward that was sharpened on it, he would be none the worse.\n\n9. A garment; if a man of gentle birth put it on, it suited him well; but\nif a churl, it would not fit him.\n\n10, 11. A pan and a platter; whatever food was required was found therein.\n\n12. A chessboard; when the men were placed upon it, they would play of\nthemselves. The chessboard was of gold, and the men of silver.\n\n13. The mantle of Arthur; whosoever was beneath it could see everything,\nwhile no one could see him.\n\nIt is towards this tower, some legends say, that Merlin was last seen by\nsome Irish monks, sailing away westward, with a maiden, in a boat of\ncrystal, beneath a sunset sky.\n\n\n\nVIII\n\nSIR LANCELOT OF THE LAKE\n\n\nSir Lancelot, the famous knight, was the son of a king and queen against\nwhom their subjects rebelled; the king was killed, the queen taken\ncaptive, when a fairy rose in a cloud of mist and carried away the infant\nLancelot from where he had been left beneath a tree. The queen, after\nweeping on the body of her husband, looked round and saw a lady standing\nby the water-side, holding the queen's child in her arms. \"Fair, sweet\nfriend,\" said the queen, \"give me back my child.\" The fairy made no reply,\nbut dived into the water; and the queen was taken to an abbey, where she\nwas known as the Queen of Great Griefs. The Lady of the Lake took the\nchild to her own home, which was an island in the middle of the sea and\nsurrounded by impassable walls. From this the lady had her name of Dame du\nLac, or the Lady of the Lake (or Sea), and her foster son was called\nLancelot du Lac, while the realm was called Meidelant, or the Land of\nMaidens.\n\nLancelot dwelt thenceforward in the castle, on the island. When he was\neight years old he received a tutor who was to instruct him in all\nknightly knowledge; he learned to use bow and spear and to ride on\nhorseback, and some cousins of his were also brought thither by the Lady\nof the Lake to be his comrades. When he was eighteen he wished to go to\nKing Arthur's court that he might be a knight.\n\nOn the eve of St. John, as King Arthur returned from the chase, and by\nthe high road approached Camelot, he met a fair company. In the van went\ntwo youths, leading two white mules, one freighted with a silken pavilion,\nthe other with robes proper for a newly made knight; the mules bore two\nchests, holding the hauberk and the iron boots. Next came two squires,\nclad in white robes and mounted on white horses, carrying a silver shield\nand a shining helmet; after these, two others, with a sword in a white\nsheath and a white charger. Behind followed squires and servants in white\ncoats, three damsels dressed in white, the two sons of King Bors; and,\nlast of all, the fairy with the youth she loved. Her robe was of white\nsamite lined with ermine; her white palfrey had a silver bit, while her\nbreastplate, stirrups, and saddle were of ivory, carved with figures of\nladies and knights, and her white housings trailed on the ground.\n\nWhen she perceived the king, she responded to his salutation, and said,\nafter she had lowered her wimple and displayed her face: \"Sir, may God\nbless the best of kings! I come to implore a boon, which it shall cost you\nnothing to grant.\" \"Damsel, even it should cost me dear, you should not be\nrefused; what is it you would have me do?\" \"Sir, dub this varlet a knight,\nand array him in the arms he bringeth, whenever he desireth.\" \"Your mercy,\ndamsel! to bring me such a youth! Assuredly, I will dub him whenever he\nwill; but it shameth me to abandon my custom, for 'tis my wont to furnish\nwith garments and arms such as come thither to receive chivalry.\" The lady\nreplied that she desired the youth to carry the arms she had intended him\nto wear, and if she were refused, she would address herself elsewhere. Sir\nEwain said that so fair a youth ought not to be denied, and the king\nyielded to her entreaty. She returned thanks, and bade the varlet retain\nthe mules and the charger, with the two squires; and after that, she\nprepared to return as she had come, in spite of the urgency of the king,\nwho had begged her to remain in his court. \"At least,\" he cried, \"tell us\nby what name are you known ?\" \"Sir,\" she answered, \"I am called the Lady\nof the Lake.\"\n\nFor a long way, Lancelot escorted the fairy, who said to him as she took\nleave: \"King's son, you are derived from lineage the most noble on earth;\nsee to it that your worth be as great as your beauty. To-morrow you will\nask the king to bestow on you knighthood; when you are armed, you will not\ntarry in his house a single night. Abide in one place no longer than you\ncan help, and refrain from declaring your name until others proclaim it.\nBe prepared to accomplish every adventure, and never let another man\ncomplete a task which you yourself have undertaken.\" With that, she gave\nhim a ring that had the property of dissolving enchantment, and commended\nhim to God.\n\nOn the morrow, Lancelot arrayed himself in his fairest robes, and sued\nfor knighthood, as he had been commanded to do. Sir Ewain attended him to\ncourt, where they dismounted in front of the palace; the king and queen\nadvanced to meet them; each took Sir Ewain by a hand, and seated him on a\ncouch, while the varlet stood in their presence on the rushes that strewed\nthe floor. All gazed with pleasure, and the queen prayed that God might\nmake him noble, for he possessed as much beauty as was possible for man to\nhave.\n\nAfter this he had many perilous adventures; he fought with giants and\nlions; he entered an enchanted castle and escaped; he went to a well in\nthe forest, and, striking three times on a cymbal with a hammer hung there\nfor the purpose, called forth a great giant, whom he slew, afterwards\nmarrying his daughter. Then he went to rescue the queen of the realm,\nGwenivere, from captivity. In order to reach the fortress where she was\nprisoner, he had to ride in a cart with a dwarf; to follow a wheel that\nrolled before him to show him the way, or a ball that took the place of\nthe wheel; he had to walk on his hands and knees across a bridge made of a\ndrawn sword; he suffered greatly. At last he rescued the queen, and later\nthan this he married Elaine, the daughter of King Pelles, and her father\ngave to them the castle of Blyaunt in the Joyous Island, enclosed in iron,\nand with a deep water all around it. There Lancelot challenged all knights\nto come and contend with him, and he jousted with more than five hundred,\novercoming them all, yet killing none, and at last he returned to Camelot,\nthe place of King Arthur's court.\n\nOne day he was called from the court to an abbey, where three nuns\nbrought to him a beautiful boy of fifteen, asking that he might be made a\nknight. This was Sir Lancelot's own son, Galahad, whom he had never seen,\nand did not yet know. That evening Sir Lancelot remained at the abbey with\nthe boy, that he might keep his vigil there, and on the morrow's dawn he\nwas made a knight. Sir Lancelot put on one of his spurs, and Bors,\nLancelot's cousin, the other, and then Sir Lancelot said to the boy, \"Fair\nson, attend me to the court of the king;\" but the abbess said, \"Sir, not\nnow, but we will send him when it shall be time.\"\n\nOn Whitsunday, at the time called \"underne,\" which was nine in the\nmorning, King Arthur and his knights sat at the Round Table, where on\nevery seat there was written, in letters of gold, the name of a knight\nwith \"here ought to sit he,\" or \"he ought to sit here;\" and thus went the\ninscriptions until they came to one seat (or _si\u00e8ge_ in French)\ncalled the \"Siege Perilous,\" where they found newly written letters of\ngold, saying that this seat could not be occupied until four hundred and\nfifty years after the death of Christ; and that was this very day. Then\nthere came news of a marvellous stone which had been seen above the water,\nwith a sword sticking in it bearing the letters, \"Never shall man take me\nhence, but only he by whose side I ought to hang, and he shall be the best\nknight of the world.\" Then two of the knights tried to draw the sword and\nfailed to draw it, and Sir Lancelot, who was thought the best knight in\nall the world, refused to attempt it. Then they went back to their seats\naround the table.\n\nThen when all the seats but the \"Siege Perilous\" were full, the hall was\nsuddenly darkened; and an old man clad in white, whom nobody knew, came\nin, with a young knight in red armor, wearing an empty scabbard at his\nside, who said, \"Peace be with you, fair knights.\" The old man said, \"I\nbring you here a young knight that is of kings' lineage,\" and the king\nsaid, \"Sir, ye are right heartily welcome.\" Then the old man bade the\nyoung knight to remove his armor, and he wore a red garment, while the old\nman placed on his shoulders a mantle of fine ermine, and said, \"Sir,\nfollow after.\" Then the old man led him to the \"Siege Perilous,\" next to\nSir Lancelot, and lifted the cloth and read, \"Here sits Sir Galahad,\" and\nthe youth sat down. Upon this, all the knights of the Round Table\nmarvelled greatly at Sir Galahad, that he dared to sit in that seat, and\nhe so tender of age. Then King Arthur took him by the hand and led him\ndown to the river to see the adventure of the stone. \"Sir,\" said the king\nto Sir Galahad, \"here is a great marvel, where right good knights have\ntried and failed.\" \"Sir,\" said Sir Galahad, \"that is no marvel, for the\nadventure was not theirs, but mine; I have brought no sword with me, for\nhere by my side hangs the scabbard,\" and he laid his hand on the sword and\nlightly drew it from the stone.\n\nIt was not until long after, and when they both had had many adventures,\nthat Sir Lancelot discovered Galahad to be his son. Sir Lancelot once came\nto the sea-strand and found a ship without sails or oars, and sailed away\nupon it. Once, when he touched at an island, a young knight came on board\nto whom Lancelot said, \"Sir, you are welcome,\" and when the young knight\nasked his name, told him, \"My name is Sir Lancelot du Lac.\" \"Sir,\" he\nsaid, \"then you are welcome, for you are my father.\" \"Ah,\" said Lancelot,\n\"are you Sir Galahad?\" Then the young knight kneeled down and asked his\nblessing, and they embraced each other, and there was great joy between\nthem, and they told each other all their deeds. So dwelt Sir Lancelot and\nSir Galahad together within that ship for half a year, and often they\narrived at islands far from men where there were but wild beasts, and they\nfound many adventures strange and perilous which they brought to an end.\n\nWhen Sir Lancelot at last died, his body was taken to Joyous-Gard, his\nhome, and there it lay in state in the choir, with a hundred torches\nblazing above it; and while it was there, came his brother Sir Ector de\nMaris, who had long been seeking Lancelot. When he heard such noise and\nsaw such lights in the choir, he alighted and came in; and Sir Bors went\ntowards him and told him that his brother Lancelot was lying dead. Then\nSir Ector threw his shield and sword and helm from him, and when he looked\non Sir Lancelot's face he fell down in a swoon, and when he rose he spoke\nthus: \"Ah, Sir Lancelot,\" said he, \"thou wert dead of all Christen\nknights! And now I dare say, that, Sir Lancelot, there thou liest, thou\nwert never matched of none earthly knight's hands; and thou wert the\ncurtiest knight that ever beare shield; and thou wert the truest friend to\nthy lover that ever bestrood horse, and thou wert the truest lover of a\nsinful man that ever loved woman; and thou wert the kindest man that ever\nstrooke with sword; and thou wert the goodliest person that ever came\namong presse of knights; and thou wert the meekest man and the gentlest\nthat ever eate in hall among ladies; and thou wert the sternest knight to\nthy mortall foe that ever put speare in the rest.\"\n\n\n\nIX\n\nTHE HALF-MAN\n\n\nKing Arthur in his youth was fond of all manly exercises, especially of\nwrestling, an art in which he found few equals. The old men who had been\nthe champions of earlier days, and who still sat, in summer evenings,\nwatching the youths who tried their skill before them, at last told him\nthat he had no rival in Cornwall, and that his only remaining competitor\nelsewhere was one who had tired out all others.\n\n\"Where is he?\" said Arthur.\n\n\"He dwells,\" an old man said, \"on an island whither you will have to go\nand find him. He is of all wrestlers the most formidable. You will think\nhim at first so insignificant as to be hardly worth a contest; you will\neasily throw him at the first trial; but after a while you will find him\ngrowing stronger; he seeks out all your weak points as by magic; he never\ngives up; you may throw him again and again, but he will conquer you at\nlast.\"\n\n\"His name! his name!\" said Arthur.\n\n\"His name,\" they answered, \"is Hanner Dyn; his home is everywhere, but on\nhis own island you will be likely to find him sooner or later. Keep clear\nof him, or he will get the best of you in the end, and make you his slave\nas he makes slaves of others whom he has conquered.\"\n\nFar and wide over the ocean the young Arthur sought; he touched at island\nafter island; he saw many weak men who did not dare to wrestle with him,\nand many strong ones whom he could always throw, until at last when he was\nfar out under the western sky, he came one day to an island which he had\nnever before seen and which seemed uninhabited. Presently there came out\nfrom beneath an arbor of flowers a little miniature man, graceful and\nquick-moving as an elf. Arthur, eager in his quest, said to him, \"In what\nisland dwells Hanner Dyn?\" \"In this island,\" was the answer. \"Where is\nhe?\" said Arthur. \"I am he,\" said the laughing boy, taking hold of his\nhand.\n\n\"What did they mean by calling you a wrestler?\" said Arthur.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the child coaxingly, \"I am a wrestler. Try me.\"\n\nThe king took him and tossed him in the air with his strong arms, till\nthe boy shouted with delight. He then took Arthur by the hand and led him\nabout the island--showed him his house and where the gardens and fields\nwere. He showed him the rows of men toiling in the meadows or felling\ntrees. \"They all work for me,\" he said carelessly. The king thought he had\nnever seen a more stalwart set of laborers. Then the boy led him to the\nhouse, asked him what his favorite fruits were, or his favorite beverages,\nand seemed to have all at hand. He was an unaccountable little creature;\nin size and years he seemed a child; but in his activity and agility he\nseemed almost a man. When the king told him so, he smiled, as winningly as\never, and said, \"That is what they call me--Hanner Dyn, The Half-Man.\"\nLaughing merrily, he helped Arthur into his boat and bade him farewell,\nurging him to come again. The King sailed away, looking back with\nsomething like affection on his winsome little playmate.\n\nIt was months before Arthur came that way again. Again the merry child\nmet him, having grown a good deal since their earlier meeting. \"How is my\nlittle wrestler?\" said Arthur. \"Try me,\" said the boy; and the king tossed\nhim again in his arms, finding the delicate limbs firmer, and the slender\nbody heavier than before, though easily manageable. The island was as\ngreen and more cultivated, there were more men working in the fields, and\nArthur noticed that their look was not cheerful, but rather as of those\nwho had been discouraged and oppressed.\n\nIt was, however, a charming sail to the island, and, as it became more\nfamiliar, the king often bade his steersman guide the pinnace that way. He\nwas often startled with the rapid growth and increased strength of the\nlaughing boy, Hanner Dyn, while at other times he seemed much as before\nand appeared to have made but little progress. The youth seemed never\ntired of wrestling; he always begged the king for a trial of skill, and\nthe king rejoiced to see how readily the young wrestler caught at the\ntricks of the art; so that the time had long passed when even Arthur's\nstrength could toss him lightly in the air, as at first. Hanner Dyn was\ngrowing with incredible rapidity into a tall young fellow, and instead of\nthe weakness that often comes with rapid growth, his muscles grew ever\nharder and harder. Still merry and smiling, he began to wrestle in\nearnest, and one day, in a moment of carelessness, Arthur received a back\nfall, perhaps on moist ground, and measured his length. Rising with a\nquick motion, he laughed at the angry faces of his attendants and bade the\nboy farewell. The men at work in the fields glanced up, attracted by the\nsound of voices, and he saw them exchange looks with one another.\n\nYet he felt his kingly dignity a little impaired, and hastened ere long\nto revisit the island and teach the saucy boy another lesson. Months had\npassed, and the youth had expanded into a man of princely promise, but\nwith the same sunny look. His shoulders were now broad, his limbs of the\nfirmest mould, his eye clear, keen, penetrating. \"Of all the wrestlers I\nhave ever yet met,\" said the king, \"this younker promises to be the most\nformidable. I can easily throw him now, but what will he be a few years\nhence?\" The youth greeted him joyously, and they began their usual match.\nThe sullen serfs in the fields stopped to watch them, and an aged Druid\npriest, whom Arthur had brought with him, to give the old man air and\nexercise in the boat, opened his weak eyes and closed them again.\n\nAs they began to wrestle, the king felt, by the very grasp of the youth's\narms, by the firm set of his foot upon the turf, that this was to be\nunlike any previous effort. The wrestlers stood after the old Cornish\nfashion, breast to breast, each resting his chin on the other's shoulder.\nThey grasped each other round the body, each setting his left hand above\nthe other's right. Each tried to force the other to touch the ground with\nboth shoulders and one hip, or with both hips and one shoulder; or else to\ncompel the other to relinquish his hold for an instant--either of these\nsuccesses giving the victory. Often as Arthur had tried the art, he never\nhad been so matched before. The competitors swayed this way and that,\nwrithed, struggled, half lost their footing and regained it, yet neither\nyielded. All the boatmen gathered breathlessly around, King Arthur's men\nrefusing to believe their eyes, even when they knew their king was in\ndanger. A stranger group was that of the sullen farm-laborers, who left\ntheir ploughs and spades, and, congregating on a rising ground, watched\nwithout any expression of sympathy the contest that was going on. An old\nwrestler from Cornwall, whom Arthur had brought with him, was the judge;\nand according to the habit of the time, the contest was for the best two\nbouts in three. By the utmost skill and strength, Arthur compelled Hanner\nDyn to lose his hold for one instant in the first trial, and the King was\npronounced the victor.\n\nThe second test was far more difficult; the boy, now grown to a man, and\nseeming to grow older and stronger before their very eyes, twice forced\nArthur to the ground either with hip or shoulder, but never with both,\nwhile the crowd closed in breathlessly around; and the half-blind old\nDruid, who had himself been a wrestler in his youth, and who had been\nbrought ashore to witness the contest, called warningly aloud, \"Save\nthyself, O king!\" At this Arthur roused his failing strength to one final\neffort, and, griping his rival round the waist with a mighty grasp, raised\nhim bodily from the ground and threw him backward till he fell flat, like\na log, on both shoulders and both hips; while Arthur himself fell fainting\na moment later. Nor did he recover until he found himself in the boat, his\nhead resting on the knees of the aged Druid, who said to him, \"Never\nagain, O king! must you encounter the danger you have barely escaped. Had\nyou failed, you would have become subject to your opponent, whose strength\nhas been maturing for years to overpower you. Had you yielded, you would,\nalthough a king, have become but as are those dark-browed men who till his\nfields and do his bidding. For know you not what the name Hanner Dyn\nmeans? It means--Habit; and the force of habit, at first weak, then\ngrowing constantly stronger, ends in conquering even kings!\"\n\n\n\nX\n\nKING ARTHUR AT AVALON\n\n\nIn the ruined castle at Winchester, England, built by William the\nConqueror, there is a hall called \"The Great Hall,\" where Richard Coeur de\nLion was received by his nobles when rescued from captivity; where Henry\nIII. was born; where all the Edwards held court; where Henry VIII.\nentertained the emperor Charles V.; where Queen Mary was married to Philip\nII.; where Parliament met for many years. It is now a public hall for the\ncounty; and at one end of it the visitor sees against the wall a vast\nwooden tablet on which the names of King Arthur's knights of the Round\nTable are inscribed in a circle. No one knows its date or origin, though\nit is known to be more than four hundred years old, but there appear upon\nit the names most familiar to those who have read the legends of King\nArthur, whether in Tennyson's poems or elsewhere. There are Lancelot and\nBedivere, Gawaine and Dagonet, Modred and Gareth, and the rest. Many books\nhave been written of their deeds; but a time came when almost all those\nknights were to fall, according to the legend, in one great battle.\nModred, the king's nephew, had been left in charge of the kingdom during\nArthur's absence, and had betrayed him and tried to dethrone him, meaning\nto crown himself king. Many people joined with him, saying that under\nArthur they had had only war and fighting, but under Modred they would\nhave peace and bliss. Yet nothing was farther from Modred's purpose than\nbliss or peace, and it was agreed at last that a great battle should be\nfought for the kingdom.\n\nOn the night of Trinity Sunday, King Arthur had a dream. He thought he\nsat in a chair, upon a scaffold, and the chair was fastened to a wheel. He\nwas dressed in the richest cloth of gold that could be made, but far\nbeneath him he saw a pit, full of black water, in which were all manner of\nserpents and floating beasts. Then the wheel began to turn, and he went\ndown, down among the floating things, and they wreathed themselves about\nhim till he cried, \"Help! help!\"\n\nThen his knights and squires and yeomen aroused him, but he slumbered\nagain, not sleeping nor thoroughly waking. Then he thought he saw his\nnephew, Sir Gawaine, with a number of fair ladies, and when King Arthur\nsaw him, he said, \"O fair nephew, what are these ladies who come with\nyou?\" \"Sir,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"these are the ladies for whose protection\nI fought while I was a living man, and God has given them grace that they\nshould bring me thither to you, to warn you of your death. If you fight\nwith Sir Modred to-morrow, you must be slain, and most of your people on\nboth sides.\" So Sir Gawaine and all the ladies vanished, and then the king\ncalled upon his knights and squires and yeomen, and summoned his lords and\nbishops. They agreed to propose to Sir Modred that they should have a\nmonth's delay, and meanwhile agreed to meet him with fourteen persons on\neach side, besides Arthur and Modred.\n\nEach of these leaders warned his army, when they met, to watch the other,\nand not to draw their swords until they saw a drawn sword on the other\nside. In that case they were to come on fiercely. So the small party of\nchosen men on each side met and drank wine together, and agreed upon a\nmonth's delay before fighting; but while this was going on an adder came\nout of a bush and stung a knight on the foot, and he drew his sword to\nslay it and thought of nothing farther. At the sight of that sword the two\narmies were in motion, trumpets were blown instantly, and the men of each\narmy thought that the other army had begun the fray. \"Alas, this unhappy\nday!\" cried King Arthur; and, as the old chronicle says, \"nothing there\nwas but rushing and riding, fencing and striking, and many a grim word was\nthere spoken either to other, and many a deadly stroke.\"\n\nThe following is the oldest account of the battle, translated into quaint\nand literal English by Madden from the book called \"Layamon's Brut\";\n\"Innumerable folk it came toward the host, riding and on foot, as the rain\ndown falleth! Arthur marched to Cornwall, with an immense army. Modred\nheard that, and advanced against him with innumerable folk,--there were\nmany fated! Upon the Tambre they came together; the place hight Camelford,\nevermore lasted the same word. And at Camelford was assembled sixty\nthousand, and more thousands thereto; Modred was their chief. Then\nthitherward 'gan ride Arthur the mighty, with innumerable folk,--fated\nthough it were! Upon the Tambre they encountered together; elevated their\nstandards; advanced together; drew their long swords; smote on the helms;\nfire outsprang; spears splintered; shields 'gan shiver; shafts brake in\npieces. There fought all together innumerable folk! Tambre was in flood\nwith blood to excess; there might no man in the fight know any warrior,\nnor who did worse, nor who better, so was the conflict mingled! For each\nslew downright, were he swain, were he knight.\n\n\"There was Modred slain, and deprived of life-day, and all his knights\nslain in the fight. There were slain all the brave, Arthur's warriors,\nhigh and low, and all the Britons of Arthur's board, and all his\ndependents, of many kingdoms. And Arthur wounded with broad\nslaughter-spear; fifteen dreadful wounds he had; in the least one might\nthrust two gloves! Then was there no more remained in the fight, of two\nhundred thousand men that there lay hewed in pieces, except Arthur the\nking alone, and two of his knights. Arthur was wounded wondrously much.\nThere came to him a lad, who was of his kindred; he was Cador's son, the\nearl of Cornwall; Constantine the lad hight, he was dear to the king.\nArthur looked on him, where he lay on the ground, and said these words,\nwith sorrowful heart: 'Constantine, thou art welcome; thou wert Cador's\nson. I give thee here my kingdom, and defend thou my Britons ever in thy\nlife, and maintain them all the laws that have stood in my days, and all\nthe good laws that in Uther's days stood. And I will fare to Avalon, to\nthe fairest of all maidens, to Argante the queen, an elf most fair, and\nshe shall make my wounds all sound, make me all whole with healing\ndraughts. And afterwards I will come to my kingdom, and dwell with the\nBritons with mickle joy.' Even with the words there approached from the\nsea that was a short boat, floating with the waves; and two women therein,\nwondrously formed; and they took Arthur anon, and bare him quickly, and\nlaid him softly down, and forth they 'gan depart. Then was it accomplished\nthat Merlin whilom said, that mickle care should be of Arthur's departure.\nThe Britons believe yet that he is alive, and dwelleth in Avalon with the\nfairest of all elves; and the Britons ever yet expect when Arthur shall\nreturn. Was never the man born, of any lady chosen, that knoweth, of the\nsooth, to say more of Arthur. But whilom was a sage hight Merlin; he said\nwith words,--his sayings were sooth,--that an Arthur should yet come to\nhelp the English.\"\n\nAnother traditional account which Tennyson has mainly followed in a poem,\nis this: The king bade Sir Bedivere take his good sword Excalibur and go\nwith it to the water-side and throw it into the water and return to tell\nwhat he saw. Then Sir Bedivere took the sword, and it was so richly and\npreciously adorned that he would not throw it, and came back without it.\nWhen the king asked what had happened, Sir Bedivere said, \"I saw nothing\nbut waves and wind,\" and when Arthur did not believe him, and sent him\nagain, he made the same answer, and then, when sent a third time, he threw\nthe sword into the water, as far as he could. Then an arm and a hand rose\nabove the water and caught it, and shook and brandished it three times and\nvanished.\n\nThen Sir Bedivere came back to the king; he told what he had seen.\n\"Alas,\" said Arthur, \"help me from hence, for I fear I have tarried over\nlong.\" Then Sir Bedivere took King Arthur upon his back, and went with him\nto the water's side. And when they had reached there, a barge with many\nfair ladies was lying there, with many ladies in it, and among them three\nqueens, and they all had black hoods, and they wept and shrieked when they\nsaw King Arthur.\n\n\"Now put me in the barge,\" said Arthur, and the three queens received him\nwith great tenderness, and King Arthur laid his head in the lap of one,\nand she said, \"Ah, dear brother, why have ye tarried so long, until your\nwound was cold?\" And then they rowed away, and King Arthur said to Sir\nBedivere, \"I will go unto the valley of Avalon to heal my grievous wound,\nand if I never return, pray for my soul.\" He was rowed away by the weeping\nqueens, and one of them was Arthur's sister Morgan le Fay; another was the\nqueen of Northgalis, and the third was the queen of Waste Lands; and it\nwas the belief for years in many parts of England that Arthur was not\ndead, but would come again to reign in England, when he had been nursed\nlong enough by Morgan le Fay in the island of Avalon.\n\nThe tradition was that King Arthur lived upon this island in an enchanted\ncastle which had the power of a magnet, so that every one who came near it\nwas drawn thither and could not get away. Morgan le Fay was its ruler\n(called more correctly Morgan la f\u00e9e, or the fairy), and her name Morgan\nmeant sea-born. By one tradition, the queens who bore away Arthur were\naccompanied in the boat by the bard and enchanter, Merlin, who had long\nbeen the king's adviser, and this is the description of the island said to\nhave been given by Merlin to another bard, Taliessin:--\n\n\"'We came to that green and fertile island which each year is blessed\nwith two autumns, two springs, two summers, two gatherings of fruit,--the\nland where pearls are found, where the flowers spring as you gather them--\nthat isle of orchards called the \"Isle of the Blessed.\" No tillage there,\nno coulter to tear the bosom of the earth. Without labor it affords wheat\nand the grape. There the lives extend beyond a century. There nine\nsisters, whose will is the only law, rule over those who go from us to\nthem. The eldest excels in the art of healing, and exceeds her sisters in\nbeauty. She is called Morgana, and knows the virtues of all the herbs of\nthe meadow. She can change her form, and soar in the air like a bird; she\ncan be where she pleases in a moment, and in a moment descend on our\ncoasts from the clouds. Her sister Thiten is renowned for her skill on the\nharp.'\n\n\"'With the prince we arrived, and Morgana received us with fitting\nhonour. And in her own chamber she placed the king on a bed of gold, and\nwith delicate touch, she uncovered the wound. Long she considered it, and\nat length said to him that she could heal it if he stayed long with her,\nand willed her to attempt her cure. Rejoiced at this news, we intrusted\nthe king to her care, and soon after set sail.'\"\n\nSir Thomas Malory, who wrote the book called the \"Historie of King\nArthur,\" or more commonly the \"Morte d'Arthur,\" utters these high thoughts\nconcerning the memory of the great king:--\n\n\"Oh, yee mightie and pompeous lords, shining in the glory transitory of\nthis unstable life, as in raigning over great realmes and mightie great\ncountries, fortified with strong castles and toures, edified with many a\nrich citie; yee also, yee fierce and mightie knights, so valiant in\nadventurous deeds of armes; behold, behold, see how this mightie\nconquerour king Arthur, whom in his humaine life all the world doubted,\nsee also the noble queene Guenever, which sometime sat in her chaire\nadorned with gold, pearles, and precious stones, now lye full low in\nobscure fosse or pit, covered with clods of earth and clay; behold also\nthis mightie champion Sir Launcelot, pearelesse of all knighthood, see now\nhow hee lyeth groveling upon the cold mould, now being so feeble and faint\nthat sometime was so terrible. How and in what manner ought yee to bee so\ndesirous of worldly honour so dangerous! Therefore mee thinketh this\npresent booke is right necessary often to be read, for in it shall yee\nfinde the most gracious, knightly, and vertuous war of the most noble\nknights of the world, whereby they gat praysing continually. Also mee\nseemeth, by the oft reading thereof, yee shall greatly desire to accustome\nyour selfe in following of those gracious knightly deedes, that is to say,\nto dread God, and to love righteousnesse, faithfully and couragiously to\nserve your soveraigne prince; and the more that God hath given you the\ntriumphall honour, the meeker yee ought to bee, ever feareing the\nunstablenesse of this deceitfull world.\"\n\n\n\nXI\n\nMAELDUIN'S VOYAGE\n\n\nAn Irish knight named Maelduin set forth early in the eighth century to\nseek round the seas for his father's murderers. By the advice of a wizard,\nhe was to take with him seventeen companions, neither less nor more; but\nat the last moment his three foster brothers, whom he had not included,\nbegged to go with him. He refused, and they cast themselves into the sea\nto swim after his vessel. Maelduin had pity on them and took them in, but\nhis disregard of the wizard's advice brought punishment; and it was only\nafter long wanderings, after visiting multitudes of unknown and often\nenchanted islands, and after the death or loss of the three foster\nbrothers, that Maelduin was able to return to his native land.\n\nOne island which they visited was divided into four parts by four fences,\none of gold, one of silver, one of brass, one of crystal. In the first\ndivision there dwelt kings, in the second queens, in the third warriors,\nand in the fourth maidens. The voyagers landed in the maidens' realm; one\nof these came out in a boat and gave them food, such that every one found\nin it the taste he liked best; then followed an enchanted drink, which\nmade them sleep for three days and three nights. When they awakened they\nwere in their boat on the sea, and nothing was to be seen either of island\nor maidens.\n\nThe next island had in it a fortress with a brazen door and a bridge of\nglass, on which every one who ascended it slipped and fell. A woman came\nfrom the fortress, pail in hand, drew water from the sea and returned, not\nanswering them when they spoke. When they reached at last the brazen door\nand struck upon it, it made a sweet and soothing sound, and they went to\nsleep, for three days and nights, as before. On the fourth day a maiden\ncame who was most beautiful; she wore garments of white silk, a white\nmantle with a brooch of silver with studs of gold, and a gold band round\nher hair. She greeted each man by his name, and said, \"It is long that we\nhave expected you.\" She took them into the castle and gave them every kind\nof food they had ever desired. Maelduin was filled with love for her and\nasked her for her love; but she told him that love was sin and she had no\nknowledge of sin; so she left him. On the morrow they found their boat,\nstranded on a crag, while lady and fortress and island had all vanished.\n\nAnother island on which they landed was large and bare, with another\nfortress and a palace. There they met a lady who was kinder. She wore an\nembroidered purple mantle, gold embroidered gloves, and ornamented\nsandals, and was just riding up to the palace door. Seventeen maidens\nwaited there for her. She offered to keep the strangers as guests, and\nthat each of them should have a wife, she herself wedding Maelduin. She\nwas, it seems, the widow of the king of the island, and these were her\nseventeen daughters. She ruled the island and went every day to judge the\npeople and direct their lives. If the strangers would stay, she said that\nthey should never more know sorrow, or hardships, or old age; she herself,\nin spite of her large family, being young and beautiful as ever. They\nstayed three months, and it seemed to all but Maelduin that the three\nmonths were three years. When the queen was absent, one day, the men took\nthe boat and compelled Maelduin to leave the island with them; but the\nqueen rode after them and flung a rope, which Maelduin caught and which\nclung to his hand. She drew them back to the shore; this happened thrice,\nand the men accused Maelduin of catching the rope on purpose; he bade\nanother man catch it, and his companions cut off his hand, and they\nescaped at last.\n\nOn one island the seafarers found three magic apples, and each apple gave\nsufficient food for forty nights; again, on another island, they found the\nsame apples. In another place still, a great bird like a cloud arrived,\nwith a tree larger than an oak in its claws. After a while two eagles came\nand cleaned the feathers of the larger bird. They also stripped off the\nred berries from the tree and threw them into the ocean until its foam\ngrew red. The great bird then flew into the ocean and cleaned itself. This\nhappened daily for three days, when the great bird flew away with stronger\nwings, its youth being thus renewed.\n\nThey came to another island where many people stood by the shore talking\nand joking. They were all looking at Maelduin and his comrades, and kept\ngaping and laughing, but would not exchange a word with them. Then\nMaelduin sent one of his foster brothers on the island; but he ranged\nhimself with the others and did as they did. Maelduin and his men rowed\nround and round the island, and whenever they passed the point where this\ncomrade was, they addressed him, but he never answered, and only gaped and\nlaughed. They waited for him a long time and left him. This island they\nfound to be called The Island of Joy.\n\nOn another island they found sheep grazing, of enormous size; on another,\nbirds, whose eggs when eaten caused feathers to sprout all over the bodies\nof those who eat them. On another they found crimson flowers, whose mere\nperfume sufficed for food, and they encountered women whose only food was\napples. Through the window flew three birds: a blue one with a crimson\nhead; a crimson one with a green head; a green one with a golden head.\nThese sang heavenly music, and were sent to accompany the wanderers on\ntheir departing; the queen of the island gave them an emerald cup, such\nthat water poured into it became wine. She asked if they knew how long\nthey had been there, and when they said \"a day,\" she told them that it was\na year, during which they had had no food. As they sailed away, the birds\nsang to them until both birds and island disappeared in the mist.\n\nThey saw another island standing on a single pedestal, as if on one foot,\nprojecting from the water. Rowing round it to seek a way into it they\nfound no passage, but they saw in the base of the pedestal, under water, a\nclosed door with a lock--this being the only way in which the island could\nbe entered. Around another island there was a fiery rampart, which\nconstantly moved in a circle. In the side of that rampart was an open\ndoor, and as it came opposite them in its turning course, they beheld\nthrough it the island and all therein; and its occupants, even human\nbeings, were many and beautiful, wearing rich garments, and feasting with\ngold vessels in their hands. The voyagers lingered long to gaze upon this\nmarvel.\n\nOn another island they found many human beings, black in color and\nraiment, and always bewailing. Lots were cast, and another of Maelduin's\nfoster brothers was sent on shore. He at once joined the weeping crowd,\nand did as they did. Two others were sent to bring him back, and both\nshared his fate, falling under some strange spell. Then Maelduin sent four\nothers, and bade them look neither at the land nor at the sky; to wrap\ntheir mouths and noses with their garments, and not breathe the island\nair; and not to take off their eyes from their comrades. In this way the\ntwo who followed the foster brother on shore were rescued, but he remained\nbehind.\n\nOf another island they could see nothing but a fort, protected by a great\nwhite rampart, on which nothing living was to be seen but a small cat,\nleaping from one to another of four stone pillars. They found brooches and\nornaments of gold and silver, they found white quilts and embroidered\ngarments hanging up, flitches of bacon were suspended, a whole ox was\nroasting, and vessels stood filled with intoxicating drinks. Maelduin\nasked the cat if all this was for them; but the cat merely looked at him\nand went on playing. The seafarers dined and drank, then went to sleep. As\nthey were about to depart, Maelduin's third foster brother proposed to\ncarry off a tempting necklace, and in spite of his leader's warnings\ngrasped it. Instantly the cat leaped through him like a fiery arrow,\nburned him so that he became ashes, and went back to its pillar. Thus all\nthree of the foster brothers who had disregarded the wizard's warning, and\nforced themselves upon the party, were either killed or left behind upon\nthe enchanted islands.\n\nAround another island there was a demon horse-race going on; the riders\nwere just riding in over the sea, and then the race began; the voyagers\ncould only dimly perceive the forms of the horses, but could hear the\ncries of their riders, the strokes of the whips, and the words of the\nspectators, \"See the gray horse!\" \"Watch the chestnut horse!\" and the\nvoyagers were so alarmed that they rowed away. The next island was covered\nwith trees laden with golden apples, but these were being rapidly eaten by\nsmall, scarlet animals which they found, on coming nearer, to be all made\nof fire and thus brightened in hue. Then the animals vanished, and\nMaelduin with his men landed, and though the ground was still hot from the\nfiery creatures, they brought away a boat load of the apples. Another\nisland was divided into two parts by a brass wall across the middle. There\nwere two flocks of sheep, and those on one side of the wall were white,\nwhile the others were black. A large man was dividing and arranging the\nsheep, and threw them easily over the wall. When he threw a white sheep\namong the black ones it became black, and when he threw a black sheep\namong the white ones, it became white instantly. The voyagers thought of\nlanding, but when Maelduin saw this, he said, \"Let us throw something on\nshore to see if it will change color. If it does, we will avoid the\nisland.\" So they took a black branch and threw it toward the white sheep.\nWhen it fell, it grew white; and the same with a white branch on the black\nside. \"It is lucky for us,\" said Maelduin, \"that we did not land on this\nisland.\"\n\nThey came next to an island where there was but one man visible, very\naged, and with long, white hair. Above him were trees, covered with great\nnumbers of birds. The old man told them that he like them had come in a\ncurragh, or coracle, and had placed many green sods beneath his feet, to\nsteady the boat. Reaching this spot, the green sods had joined together\nand formed an island which at first gave him hardly room to stand; but\nevery year one foot was added to its size, and one tree grew up. He had\nlived there for centuries, and those birds were the souls of his children\nand descendants, each of whom was sent there after death, and they were\nall fed from heaven each day. On the next island there was a great roaring\nas of bellows and a sound of smiths' hammers, as if striking all together\non an anvil, every sound seeming to come from the strokes of a dozen men.\n\"Are they near?\" asked one big voice. \"Silence!\" said another; and they\nwere evidently watching for the boat. When it rowed away, one of the\nsmiths flung after them a vast mass of red-hot iron, which he had grasped\nwith the tongs from the furnace. It fell just short, but made the whole\nsea to hiss and boil around them as they rowed away.\n\nAnother island had a wall of water round it, and Maelduin and his men saw\nmultitudes of people driving away herds of cattle and sheep, and shouting,\n\"There they are, they have come again;\" and a woman pelted them from below\nwith great nuts, which the crew gathered for eating. Then as they rowed\naway they heard one man say, \"Where are they now?\" and another cried,\n\"They are going away.\" Still again they visited an island where a great\nstream of water shot up into the air and made an arch like a rainbow that\nspanned the land.\n\nThey walked below it without getting wet, and hooked down from it many\nlarge salmon; besides that, many fell out above their heads, so that they\nhad more than they could carry away with them. These are by no means all\nof the strange adventures of Maelduin and his men.\n\nThe last island to which they came was called Raven's Stream, and there\none of the men, who had been very homesick, leaped out upon shore. As soon\nas he touched the land he became a heap of ashes, as if his body had lain\nin the earth a thousand years. This showed them for the first time during\nhow vast a period they had been absent, and what a space they must have\ntraversed. Instead of thirty enchanted islands they had visited thrice\nfifty, many of them twice or thrice as large as Ireland, whence the\nvoyagers first came. In the wonderful experiences of their long lives they\nhad apparently lost sight of the search which they had undertaken, for the\nmurderers of Maelduin's father, since of them we hear no more. The island\nenchantment seems to have banished all other thoughts.\n\n\n\nXII\n\nTHE VOYAGE OF ST. BRANDAN\n\n\nThe young student Brandan was awakened in the morning by the crowing of\nthe cock in the great Irish abbey where he dwelt; he rose, washed his face\nand hands and dressed himself, then passed into the chapel, where he\nprayed and sang until the dawn of the day. \"With song comes courage\" was\nthe motto of the abbey. It was one of those institutions like great\ncolonies,--church, library, farm, workshop, college, all in one,--of which\nIreland in the sixth century was full, and which existed also elsewhere.\nTheir extent is best seen by the modern traveller in the remains of the\nvast buildings at Tintern in England, scattered over a wide extent of\ncountry, where you keep coming upon walls and fragments of buildings which\nonce formed a part of a single great institution, in which all the life of\nthe community was organized, as was the case in the Spanish missions of\nCalifornia. At the abbey of Bangor in Wales, for instance, there were two\nthousand four hundred men,--all under the direction of a comparatively\nsmall body of monks, who were trained to an amount of organizing skill\nlike that now needed for a great railway system. Some of these men were\noccupied, in various mechanic arts, some in mining, but most of them in\nagriculture, which they carried on with their own hands, without the aid\nof animals, and in total silence.\n\nHaving thus labored in the fields until noonday, Brandan then returned\nthat he might work in the library, transcribing ancient manuscripts or\nillustrating books of prayer. Having to observe silence, he wrote the name\nof the book to give to the librarian, and if it were a Christian work, he\nstretched out his hand, making motions with his fingers as if turning over\nthe leaves; but if it were by a pagan author, the monk who asked for it\nwas required to scratch his ear as a dog does, to show his contempt,\nbecause, the regulations said, an unbeliever might well be compared to\nthat animal[1]. Taking the book, he copied it in the Scriptorium or\nlibrary, or took it to his cell, where he wrote all winter without a fire.\nIt is to such monks that we owe all our knowledge of the earliest history\nof England and Ireland; though doubtless the hand that wrote the histories\nof Gildas and Bede grew as tired as that of Brandan, or as that of the\nmonk who wrote in the corner of a beautiful manuscript: \"He who does not\nknow how to write imagines it to be no labor; but though only three\nfingers hold the pen, the whole body grows weary.\" In the same way Brandan\nmay have learned music and have had an organ in his monastery, or have had\na school of art, painting beautiful miniatures for the holy missals. This\nwas his early life in the convent.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Adde ut aurem tangas digito sicut canis cum pede\npruriens solet, quia nec immerito infideles tali animati comparantur_.\n--MART\u00c8NE, _De Antiq. Monach. ritibus_, p. 289, qu. by Montalembert,\nMonks of the West (tr.) VI. 190.]\n\nOnce a day they were called to food; this consisting for them of bread\nand vegetables with no seasoning but salt, although better fare was\nfurnished for the sick and the aged, for travellers and the poor. These\nlast numbered, at Easter time, some three or four hundred, who constantly\ncame and went, and upon whom the monks and young disciples waited. After\nthe meal the monks spent three hours in the chapel, on their knees, still\nsilent; then they confessed in turn to the abbot and then sought their\nhard-earned rest. They held all things in common; no one even received a\ngift for himself. War never reached them; it was the rarest thing for an\narmed party to molest their composure; their domains were regarded as a\nhaven for the stormy world. Because there were so many such places in\nIreland, it was known as The Isle of Saints.\n\nBrandan was sent after a time to other abbeys, where he could pursue\nespecial studies, for they had six branches of learning,--grammar,\nrhetoric, dialectics, geometry, astronomy, and music. Thus he passed three\nyears, and was then advised to go to an especial teacher in the mountains,\nwho had particular modes of teaching certain branches. But this priest--he\nwas an Italian--was suffering from poverty, and could receive his guest\nbut for a few weeks. One day as Brandan sat studying, he saw, the legend\nsays, a white mouse come from a crack in the wall, a visitor which climbed\nupon his table and left there a grain of wheat. Then the mouse paused,\nlooked at the student, then ran about the table, went away and reappeared\nwith another grain, and another, up to five. Brandan, who had at the very\ninstant learned his lesson, rose from his seat, followed the mouse, and\nlooking through a hole in the wall, saw a great pile of wheat, stored in a\nconcealed apartment. On his showing this to the head of the convent, it\nwas pronounced a miracle; the food was distributed to the poor, and \"the\npeople blessed his charity while the Lord blessed his studies.\"\n\nIn the course of years, Brandan became himself the head of one of the\ngreat abbeys, that of Clonfert, of the order of St. Benedict, where he had\nunder him nearly three thousand monks. In this abbey, having one day given\nhospitality to a monk named Berinthus, who had just returned from an ocean\nvoyage, Brandan learned from him the existence, far off in the ocean, of\nan island called The Delicious Isle, to which a priest named Mernoc had\nretired, with many companions of his order. Berinthus found Mernoc and the\nother monks living apart from one another for purposes of prayer, but when\nthey came together, Mernoc said, they were like bees from different\nbeehives. They met for their food and for church; their food included only\napples, nuts, and various herbs. One day Mernoc said to Berinthus, \"I will\nconduct you to the Promised Isle of the Saints.\" So they went on board a\nlittle ship and sailed westward through a thick fog until a great light\nshone and they found themselves near an island which was large and\nfruitful and bore many apples. There were no herbs without blossoms, he\nsaid, nor trees without fruits, and there were precious stones, and the\nisland was traversed by a great river. Then they met a man of shining\naspect who told them that they had without knowing it passed a year\nalready in the island; that they had needed neither food nor sleep. Then\nthey returned to the Delicious Island, and every one knew where they had\nbeen by the perfume of their garments. This was the story of Berinthus,\nand from this time forward nothing could keep Brandan from the purpose of\nbeholding for himself these blessed islands.\n\nBefore carrying out his plans, however, he went, about the year 560, to\nvisit an abbot named Enda, who lived at Arran, then called Isle of the\nSaints, a priest who was supposed to know more than any one concerning the\nfarther lands of the western sea. He knew, for instance, of the enchanted\nisland named Hy-Brasail, which could be seen from the coast of Ireland\nonly once in seven years, and which the priests had vainly tried to\ndisenchant. Some islands, it was believed, had been already disenchanted\nby throwing on them a few sparks of lighted turf; but as Hy-Brasail was\ntoo far for this, there were repeated efforts to disenchant it by shooting\nfiery arrows towards it, though this had not yet been successful. Then\nEnda could tell of wonderful ways to cross the sea without a boat, how his\nsister Fanchea had done it by spreading her own cloak upon the waves, and\nhow she and three other nuns were borne upon it. She found, however, that\none hem of the cloak sank below the water, because one of her companions\nhad brought with her, against orders, a brazen vessel from the convent;\nbut on her throwing it away, the sinking hem rose to the level of the rest\nand bore them safely. St. Enda himself had first crossed to Arran on a\nlarge stone which he had ordered his followers to place on the water and\nwhich floated before the wind; and he told of another priest who had\nwalked on the sea as on a meadow and plucked flowers as he went. Hearing\nsuch tales, how could St. Brandan fear to enter on his voyage?\n\nHe caused a boat to be built of a fashion which one may still see in\nWelsh and Irish rivers, and known as a curragh or coracle; made of an\nosier frame covered with tanned and oiled skins. He took with him\nseventeen priests, among whom was St. Malo, then a mere boy, but\nafterwards celebrated. They sailed to the southwest, and after being forty\ndays at sea they reached a rocky island furrowed with streams, where they\nreceived the kindest hospitality, and took in fresh provisions. They\nsailed again the next day, and found themselves entangled in contrary\ncurrents and perplexing winds, so that they were long in reaching another\nisland, green and fertile, watered by rivers which were full of fish, and\ncovered with vast herds of sheep as large as heifers. Here they renewed\ntheir stock of provisions, and chose a spotless lamb with which to\ncelebrate Easter Sunday on another island, which they saw at a short\ndistance.\n\nThis island was wholly bare, without sandy shores or wooded slopes, and\nthey all landed upon it to cook their lamb; but when they had arranged\ntheir cooking-apparatus, and when their fire began to blaze, the island\nseemed to move beneath their feet, and they ran in terror to their boat,\nfrom which Brandan had not yet landed. Their supposed island was a whale,\nand they rowed hastily away from it toward the island they had left, while\nthe whale glided away, still showing, at a distance of two miles, the fire\nblazing on his back.\n\nThe next island they visited was wooded and fertile, where they found a\nmultitude of birds, which chanted with them the praises of the Lord, so\nthat they called this the Paradise of Birds.\n\nThis was the description given of this island by an old writer named\nWynkyn de Worde, in \"The Golden Legend\":--\n\n\"Soon after, as God would, they saw a fair island, full of flowers,\nherbs, and trees, whereof they thanked God of his good grace; and anon\nthey went on land, and when they had gone long in this, they found a full\nfayre well, and thereby stood a fair tree full of boughs, and on every\nbough sat a fayre bird, and they sat so thick on the tree that uneath\n[scarcely] any leaf of the tree might be seen. The number of them was so\ngreat, and they sang so merrilie, that it was an heavenlie noise to hear.\nWhereupon St. Brandan kneeled down on his knees and wept for joy, and made\nhis praise devoutlie to our Lord God, to know what these birds meant. And\nthen anon one of the birds flew from the tree to St. Brandan, and he with\nthe flickering of his wings made a full merrie noise like a fiddle, that\nhim seemed he never heard so joyful a melodie. And then St. Brandan\ncommanded the foule to tell him the cause why they sat so thick on the\ntree and sang so merrilie. And then the foule said, some time we were\nangels in heaven, but when our master, Lucifer, fell down into hell for\nhis high pride, and we fell with him for our offences, some higher and\nsome lower, after the quality of the trespasse. And because our trespasse\nis so little, therefore our Lord hath sent us here, out of all paine, in\nfull great joy and mirthe, after his pleasing, here to serve him on this\ntree in the best manner we can. The Sundaie is a daie of rest from all\nworldly occupation, and therefore that day all we be made as white as any\nsnow, for to praise our Lorde in the best wise we may. And then all the\nbirds began to sing evensong so merrilie that it was an heavenlie noise to\nhear; and after supper St. Brandan and his fellows went to bed and slept\nwell. And in the morn they arose by times, and then those foules began\nmattyns, prime, and hours, and all such service as Christian men used to\nsing; and St. Brandan, with his fellows, abode there seven weeks, until\nTrinity Sunday was passed.\"\n\nHaving then embarked, they wandered for months on the ocean, before\nreaching another island. That on which they finally landed was inhabited\nby monks who had as their patrons St. Patrick and St. Ailb\u00e9e, and they\nspent Christmas there. A year passed in these voyages, and the tradition\nis that for six other years they made just the same circuit, always\nspending Holy Week at the island where they found the sheep, alighting for\nEaster on the back of the same patient whale, visiting the Isle of Birds\nat Pentecost, and reaching the island of St. Patrick and St. Ailb\u00e9e in\ntime for Christmas.\n\nBut in the seventh year they met with wholly new perils. They were\nattacked, the legend says, first by a whale, then by a griffin, and then\nby a race of cyclops, or one-eyed giants. Then they came to an island\nwhere the whale which had attacked them was thrown on shore, so that they\ncould cut him to pieces; then another island which had great fruits, and\nwas called The Island of the Strong Man; and lastly one where the grapes\nfilled the air with perfume. After this they saw an island, all cinders\nand flames, where the cyclops had their forges, and they sailed away in\nthe light of an immense fire. The next day they saw, looking northward, a\ngreat and high mountain sending out flames at the top. Turning hastily\nfrom this dreadful sight, they saw a little round island, at the top of\nwhich a hermit dwelt, who gave them his benediction. Then they sailed\nsouthward once more, and stopped at their usual places of resort for Holy\nWeek, Easter, and Whitsuntide.\n\nIt was on this trip that they had, so the legend says, that strange\ninterview with Judas Iscariot, out of which Matthew Arnold has made a\nballad. Sailing in the wintry northern seas at Christmas time, St. Brandan\nsaw an iceberg floating by, on which a human form rested motionless; and\nwhen it moved at last, he saw by its resemblance to the painted pictures\nhe had seen that it must be Judas Iscariot, who had died five centuries\nbefore. Then as the boat floated near the iceberg, Judas spoke and told\nhim his tale. After he had betrayed Jesus Christ, after he had died, and\nhad been consigned to the flames of hell,--which were believed in very\nliterally in those days,--an angel came to him on Christmas night and said\nthat he might go thence and cool himself for an hour. \"Why this mercy?\"\nasked Judas Iscariot. Then the angel said to him, \"Remember the leper in\nJoppa,\" and poor Judas recalled how once when the hot wind, called the\nsirocco, swept through the streets of Joppa, and he saw a naked leper by\nthe wayside, sitting in agony from the heat and the drifting sand, Judas\nhad thrown his cloak over him for a shelter and received his thanks. In\nreward for this, the angel now told him, he was to have, once a year, an\nhour's respite from his pain; he was allowed in that hour to fling himself\non an iceberg and cool his burning heat as he drifted through the northern\nseas. Then St. Brandan bent his head in prayer; and when he looked up, the\nhour was passed, and Judas had been hurried back into his torments.\n\nIt seems to have been only after seven years of this wandering that they\nat last penetrated within the obscure fogs which surrounded the Isle of\nthe Saints, and came upon a shore which lay all bathed in sunny light. It\nwas a vast island, sprinkled with precious stones, and covered with ripe\nfruits; they traversed it for forty days without arriving at the end,\nthough they reached a great river which flowed through the midst of it\nfrom east to west. There an angel appeared to them, and told them that\nthey could go no farther, but could return to their own abode, carrying\nfrom the island some of those fruits and precious stones which were\nreserved to be distributed among the saints when all the world should be\nbrought to the true faith. In order to hasten that time, it appears that\nSt. Malo, the youngest of the sea-faring monks, had wished, in his zeal,\nto baptize some one, and had therefore dug up a heathen giant who had\nbeen, for some reason, buried on the blessed isle. Not only had he dug the\ngiant's body up, but St. Malo had brought him to life again sufficiently\nfor the purpose of baptism and instruction in the true faith; after which\nhe gave him the name of Mildus, and let him die once more and be reburied.\nThen, facing homeward and sailing beyond the fog, they touched once more\nat The Island of Delights, received the benediction of the abbot of the\nmonastery, and sailed for Ireland to tell their brethren of the wonders\nthey had seen.\n\nHe used to tell them especially to his nurse Ita, under whose care he had\nbeen placed until his fifth year. His monastery at Clonfert grew, as has\nbeen said, to include three thousand monks; and he spent his remaining\nyears in peace and sanctity. The supposed islands which he visited are\nstill believed by many to have formed a part of the American continent,\nand he is still thought by some Irish scholars to have been the first to\ndiscover this hemisphere, nearly a thousand years before Columbus,\nalthough this view has not yet made much impression on historians. The\nParadise of Birds, in particular, has been placed by these scholars in\nMexico, and an Irish poet has written a long poem describing the delights\nto be found there:--\n\n  \"Oft, in the sunny mornings, have I seen\n  Bright yellow birds, of a rich lemon hue,\n  Meeting in crowds upon the branches green,\n  And sweetly singing all the morning through;\n  And others, with their heads grayish and dark,\n  Pressing their cinnamon cheeks to the old trees,\n  And striking on the hard, rough, shrivelled bark,\n  Like conscience on a bosom ill at ease.\n\n  \"And diamond-birds chirping their single notes,\n  Now 'mid the trumpet-flower's deep blossoms seen,\n  Now floating brightly on with fiery throats--\n  Small winged emeralds of golden green;\n  And other larger birds with orange cheeks,\n  A many-color-painted, chattering crowd,\n  Prattling forever with their curved beaks,\n  And through the silent woods screaming aloud.\"\n\n\n\nXIII\n\nKIRWAN'S SEARCH FOR HY-BRASAIL\n\n\nThe boy Kirwan lay on one of the steep cliffs of the Island of Innismane--\none of the islands of Arran, formerly called Isles of the Saints. He was\nlooking across the Atlantic for a glimpse of Hy-Brasail. This was what\nthey called it; it was a mysterious island which Kirwan's grandfather had\nseen, or thought he had seen--and Kirwan's father also;--indeed, there was\nnot one of the old people on the island who did not think he had seen it,\nand the older they were, the oftener it had been seen by them, and the\nlarger it looked. But Kirwan had never seen it, and whenever he came to\nthe top of the highest cliff, where he often went bird-nesting, he climbed\nthe great mass of granite called The Gregory, and peered out into the\nwest, especially at sunset, in hopes that he would at least catch a\nglimpse, some happy evening, of the cliffs and meadows of Hy-Brasail. But\nas yet he had never espied them. All this was more than two hundred years\nago.\n\nHe naturally went up to The Gregory at this hour, because it was then\nthat he met the other boys, and caught puffins by being lowered over the\ncliff. The agent of the island employed the boys, and paid them a sixpence\nfor every dozen birds, that he might sell the feathers. The boys had a\nrope three hundred feet long, which could reach the bottom of the cliff.\nOne of them tied this rope around his waist, and then held it fast with\nboth hands, the rope being held above by four or five strong boys, who\nlowered the cragman, or \"clifter,\" as he was called, over the precipice.\nKirwan was thus lowered to the rocks near the sea, where the puffins bred;\nand, loosening the rope, he prepared to spend the night in catching them.\nHe had a pole with a snare on the end, which he easily clapped on the\nheads of the heavy and stupid birds; then tied each on a string as he\ncaught it, and so kept it to be hauled up in the morning. He took in this\nway twenty or thirty score of the birds, besides quantities of their large\neggs, which were found in deep clefts in the rock; and these he carried\nwith him when his friends came in the morning to haul him up. It was a\ngood school of courage, for sometimes boys missed their footing and were\ndashed to pieces. At other times he fished in his father's boat, or drove\ncalves for sale on the mainland, or cured salt after high tide in the\ncaverns, or collected kelp for the farmers. But he was always looking\nforward to a time when he might get a glimpse of the island of Hy-Brasail,\nand make his way to it.\n\nOne day when all the fleet of fishing-boats was out for the herring\nfishery, and Kirwan among them, the fog came in closer and closer, and he\nwas shut apart from all others. His companion in the boat--or dory-mate,\nas it would be called in New England--had gone to cut bait on board\nanother boat, but Kirwan could manage the boat well enough alone. Long he\ntoiled with his oars toward the west, where he fancied the rest of the\nfleet to be; and sometimes he spread his little sprit-sail, steering with\nan oar--a thing which was, in a heavy sea, almost as hard as rowing. At\nlast the fog lifted, and he found himself alone upon the ocean. He had\nlost his bearings and could not tell the points of the compass. Presently\nout of a heavy bank of fog which rose against the horizon he saw what\nseemed land. It gave him new strength, and he worked hard to reach it; but\nit was long since he had eaten, his head was dizzy, and he lay down on the\nthwart of the boat, rather heedless of what might come. Growing weaker and\nweaker, he did not clearly know what he was doing. Suddenly he started up,\nfor a voice hailed him from above his head. He saw above him the high\nstern of a small vessel, and with the aid of a sailor he was helped on\nboard.\n\nHe found himself on the deck of a sloop of about seventy tons, John\nNisbet, master, with a crew of seven men. They had sailed from Killebegs\n(County Donegal), in Ireland, for the coast of France, laden with butter,\ntallow, and hides, and were now returning from France with French wines,\nand were befogged as Kirwan had been. The boy was at once taken on board\nand rated as a seaman; and the later adventures of the trip are here given\nas he reported them on his return with the ship some months later.\n\nThe mist continued thicker and thicker for a time, and when it suddenly\nfurled itself away, they found themselves on an unknown coast, with the\nwind driving them shoreward. There were men on board who were familiar\nwith the whole coast of Ireland and Scotland, but they remembered nothing\nlike this. Finding less than three fathoms of water, they came to anchor\nand sent four men ashore to find where they were; these being James Ross\nthe carpenter and two sailors, with the boy Kirwan. They took swords and\npistols. Landing at the edge of a little wood, they walked for a mile\nwithin a pleasant valley where cattle, horses, and sheep were feeding, and\nthen came in sight of a castle, small but strong, where they went to the\ndoor and knocked. No one answered, and they walked on, up a green hill,\nwhere there were multitudes of black rabbits; but when they had reached\nthe top and looked around they could see no inhabitants, nor any house; on\nwhich they returned to the sloop and told their tale. After this the whole\nship's company went ashore, except one left in charge, and they wandered\nabout for hours, yet saw nothing more. As night came on they made a fire\nat the base of a fallen oak, near the shore, and lay around it, talking,\nand smoking the lately discovered weed, tobacco; when suddenly they heard\nloud noises from the direction of the castle and then all over the island,\nwhich frightened them so that they went on board the sloop and stayed all\nnight.\n\nThe next morning they saw a dignified, elderly gentleman with ten unarmed\nfollowers coming down towards the shore. Hailing the sloop, the older\ngentleman, speaking Gaelic, asked who and whence they were, and being\ntold, invited them ashore as his guests. They went on shore, well armed;\nand he embraced them one by one, telling them that they were the happiest\nsight that island had seen for hundreds of years; that it was called\nHy-Brasail or O-Brazile; that his ancestors had been princes of it, but\nFor many years it had been taken possession of by enchanters, who kept it\nalmost always invisible, so that no ship came there; and that for the same\nreason he and his friends were rendered unable to answer the sailors, even\nwhen they knocked at the door; and that the enchantment must remain until\na fire was kindled on the island by good Christians. This had been done\nthe night before, and the terrible noises which they had heard were from\nthe powers of darkness, which had now left the island forever.\n\nAnd indeed when the sailors were led to the castle, they saw that the\nchief tower had just been demolished by the powers of darkness, as they\nretreated; but there were sitting within the halls men and women of\ndignified appearance, who thanked them for the good service they had done.\nThen they were taken over the island, which proved to be some sixty miles\nlong and thirty wide, abounding with horses, cattle, sheep, deer, rabbits,\nand birds, but without any swine; it had also rich mines of silver and\ngold, but few people, although there were ruins of old towns and cities.\nThe sailors, after being richly rewarded, were sent on board their vessel\nand furnished with sailing directions to their port. On reaching home,\nthey showed to the minister of their town the pieces of gold and silver\nthat were given them at the island, these being of an ancient stamp,\nsomewhat rusty yet of pure gold; and there was at once an eager desire on\nthe part of certain of the townsmen to go with them. Within a week an\nexpedition was fitted out, containing several godly ministers, who wished\nto visit and discover the inhabitants of the island; but through some\nmishap of the seas this expedition was never heard of again.\n\n\nPartly for this reason and partly because none of Captain Nesbit's crew\nwished to return to the island, there came to be in time a feeling of\ndistrust about all this rediscovery of Hy-Brasail or O-Brazile. There were\nnot wanting those who held that the ancient gold pieces might have been\ngained by piracy, such as was beginning to be known upon the Spanish main;\nand as for the boy Kirwan, some of his playmates did not hesitate to\nexpress the opinion that he had always been, as they phrased it, the\ngreatest liar that ever spoke. What is certain is that the island of\nBrazil or Hy-Brasail had appeared on maps ever since 1367 as being near\nthe coast of Ireland; that many voyages were made from Bristol to find it,\na hundred years later; that it was mentioned about 1636 as often seen from\nthe shore; and that it appeared as Brazil Rock on the London Admiralty\nCharts until after 1850. If many people tried to find it and failed, why\nshould not Kirwan have tried and succeeded? And as to his stretching his\nstory a little by throwing in a few enchanters and magic castles, there\nwas not a voyager of his period who was not tempted to do the same.\n\n\n\nXIV\n\nTHE ISLE OF SATAN'S HAND\n\n\nThe prosperous farmer Conall Ua Corra in the province of Connaught had\neverything to make him happy except that he and his wife had no children\nto cheer their old age and inherit their estate. Conall had prayed for\nchildren, and one day said in his impatience that he would rather have\nthem sent by Satan than not have them at all. A year or two later his wife\nhad three sons at a birth, and when these sons came to maturity, they were\nso ridiculed by other young men, as being the sons of Satan, that they\nsaid, \"If such is really our parentage, we will do Satan's work.\" So they\ncollected around them a few villains and began plundering and destroying\nthe churches in the neighborhood and thus injuring half the church\nbuildings in the country. At last they resolved to visit also the church\nof Clothar, to destroy it, and to kill if necessary their mother's father,\nwho was the leading layman of the parish. When they came to the church,\nthey found the old man on the green in front of it, distributing meat and\ndrink to his tenants and the people of the parish. Seeing this, they\npostponed their plans until after dark and in the meantime went home with\ntheir grandfather, to spend the night at his house. They went to rest, and\nthe eldest, Lochan, had a terrible dream in which he saw first the joys of\nheaven and then the terrors of future punishment, and then he awoke in\ndismay. Waking his brothers, he told them his dream, and that he now saw\nthat they had been serving evil masters and making war upon a good one.\nSuch was his bitterness of remorse that he converted them to his views,\nand they agreed to go to their grandfather in the morning, renounce their\nsinful ways and ask his pardon.\n\nThis they did, and he advised them to go to a celebrated saint, Finnen of\nClonard, and take him as their spiritual guide. Laying aside their armor\nand weapons, they went to Clonard, where all the people, dreading them and\nknowing their wickedness, fled for their lives, except the saint himself,\nwho came forward to meet them. With him the three brothers undertook the\nmost austere religious exercises, and after a year they came to St. Finnen\nand asked his punishment for their former crimes. \"You cannot,\" he said,\n\"restore to life those you have slain, but you can at least restore the\nbuildings you have devastated and ruined.\" So they went and repaired many\nchurches, after which they resolved to go on a pilgrimage upon the great\nAtlantic Ocean. They built for themselves therefore a curragh or coracle,\ncovered with hides three deep. It was capable of carrying nine persons,\nand they selected five out of the many who wished to join the party. There\nwere a bishop, a priest, a deacon, a musician, and the man who had\nmodelled the boat; and with these they pushed out to sea.\n\nIt had happened some years before that in a quarrel about a deer hunt,\nthe men of Ross had killed the king. It had been decided that, by way of\npunishment, sixty couples of the people of Ross should be sent out to sea,\ntwo and two, in small boats, to meet what fate they might upon the deeps.\nThey were watched that they might not land again, and for many years\nnothing more had been heard from them. The most pious task which these\nrepenting pilgrims could undertake, it was thought, would be to seek these\nbanished people. They resolved to spread their sail and let Providence\ndirect their course. They went, therefore, northwest on the Atlantic,\nwhere they visited several wonderful islands, on one of which there was a\ngreat bird which related to them, the legend says, the whole history of\nthe world, and gave them a great leaf from a tree--the leaf being as large\nas an ox-hide, and being preserved for many years in one of the churches\nafter their return. At the next island they heard sweet human voices, and\nfound that the sixty banished couples had established their homes there.\n\nThe pilgrims then went onward in their hidebound boat until they reached\nthe coast of Spain, and there they landed and dwelt for a time. The bishop\nbuilt a church, and the priest officiated in it, and the organist took\ncharge of the music. All prospered; yet the boat-builder and the three\nbrothers were never quite contented, for they had roamed the seas too\nlong; and they longed for a new enterprise for their idle valor. They\nthought they had found this when one day they found on the sea-coast a\ngroup of women tearing their hair, and when they asked the explanation,\n\"Se\u00f1or,\" said an old woman, \"our sons and our husbands have again fallen\ninto the hand of Satan.\" At this the three brothers were startled, for\nthey remembered well how they used, in youth, to rank themselves as\nSatan's children. Asking farther, they learned that a shattered boat they\nsaw on the beach was one of a pair of boats which had been carried too far\nout to sea, and had come near an islet which the sailors called _Isla de\nla Man Satanaxio_, or The Island of Satan's Hand. It appeared that in\nthat region there was an islet so called, always surrounded by chilly\nmists and water of a deadly cold; that no one had ever reached it, as it\nconstantly changed place; but that a demon hand sometimes uprose from it,\nand plucked away men and even whole boats, which, when once grasped,\nusually by night, were never seen again, but perished helplessly, victims\nof Satan's Hand.\n\nWhen the voyagers laughed at this legend, the priest of the village\nshowed them, on the early chart of Bianco, the name of \"De la Man\nSatanagio,\" and on that of Beccaria the name \"Satanagio\" alone, both these\nbeing the titles of islands. Not alarmed at the name of Satan, as being\nthat of one whom they had supposed, in their days of darkness, to be their\npatron, they pushed boldly out to sea and steered westward, a boat-load of\nSpanish fishermen following in their wake. Passing island after island of\ngreen and fertile look, they found themselves at last in what seemed a\nless favored zone--as windy as the \"roaring forties,\" and growing chillier\nevery hour. Fogs gathered quickly, so that they could scarcely see the\ncompanion boat, and the Spanish fishermen called out to them, \"Garda da la\nMan do Satanaxio!\" (\"Look out for Satan's hand!\")\n\nAs they cried, the fog became denser yet, and when it once parted for a\nmoment, something that lifted itself high above them, like a gigantic\nhand, showed itself an instant, and then descended with a crushing grasp\nupon the boat of the Spanish fishermen, breaking it to pieces, and\ndragging some of the men below the water, while others, escaping, swam\nthrough the ice-cold waves, and were with difficulty taken on board the\ncoracle; this being all the harder because the whole surface of the water\nwas boiling and seething furiously. Rowing away as they could from this\nperilous neighborhood, they lay on their oars when the night came on, not\nknowing which way to go. Gradually the fog cleared away, the sun rose\nclearly at last, and wherever they looked on the deep they saw no traces\nof any island, still less of the demon hand. But for the presence among\nthem of the fishermen they had picked up, there was nothing to show that\nany casualty had happened.\n\nThat day they steered still farther to the west with some repining from\nthe crew, and at night the same fog gathered, the same deadly chill came\non. Finding themselves in shoal water, and apparently near some island,\nthey decided to anchor the boat; and as the man in the bow bent over to\nclear away the anchor, something came down upon him with the same awful\nforce, and knocked him overboard. His body could not be recovered, and as\nthe wind came up, they drove before it until noon of the next day, seeing\nnothing of any land and the ocean deepening again. By noon the fog\ncleared, and they saw nothing, but cried with one voice that the boat\nshould be put about, and they should return to Spain. For two days they\nrowed in peace over a summer sea; then came the fog again and they laid on\ntheir oars that night. All around them dim islands seemed to float,\nscarcely discernible in the fog; sometimes from the top of each a point\nwould show itself, as of a mighty hand, and they could hear an occasional\nplash and roar, as if this hand came downwards. Once they heard a cry, as\nif of sailors from another vessel. Then they strained their eyes to gaze\ninto the fog, and a whole island seemed to be turning itself upside down,\nits peak coming down, while its base went uppermost, and the whole water\nboiled for leagues around, as if both earth and sea were upheaved.\n\nThe sun rose upon this chaos of waters. No demon hand was anywhere\nvisible, nor any island, but a few icebergs were in sight, and the\nfrightened sailors rowed away and made sail for home. It was rare to see\nicebergs so far south, and this naturally added to the general dismay.\nAmid the superstition of the sailors, the tales grew and grew, and all the\nterrors became mingled. But tradition says that there were some veteran\nSpanish sailors along that coast, men who had sailed on longer voyages,\nand that these persons actually laughed at the whole story of Satan's\nHand, saying that any one who had happened to see an iceberg topple over\nwould know all about it. It was more generally believed, however, that all\nthis was mere envy and jealousy; the daring fishermen remained heroes for\nthe rest of their days; and it was only within a century or two that the\nisland of Satanaxio disappeared from the charts.\n\n\n\nXV\n\nANTILLIA, THE ISLAND OF THE SEVEN CITIES\n\n\nThe young Spanish page, Luis de Vega, had been for some months at the\ncourt of Don Rodrigo, king of Spain, when he heard the old knights\nlamenting, as they came out of the palace at Toledo, over the king's last\nand most daring whim. \"He means,\" said one of them in a whisper, \"to\npenetrate the secret cave of the Gothic kings, that cave on which each\nsuccessive sovereign has put a padlock,\"\n\n\"Till there are now twenty-seven of them,\" interrupted a still older\nknight.\n\n\"And he means,\" said the first, frowning at the interruption, \"to take\nthence the treasures of his ancestors.\"\n\n\"Indeed, he must do it,\" said another, \"else the son of his ancestors\nwill have no treasure left of his own.\"\n\n\"But there is a spell upon it,\" said the other. \"For ages Spain has been\nthreatened with invasion, and it is the old tradition that the only\ntalisman which can prevent it is in this cave.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the scoffer, \"it is only by entering the cave that he can\npossess the talisman.\"\n\n\"But if he penetrates to it, his power is lost.\"\n\n\"A pretty talisman,\" said the other. \"It is only of use to anybody so\nlong as no one sees it. Were I the king I would hold it in my hands. And I\nhave counselled him to heed no graybeards, but to seize the treasure for\nhimself. I have offered to accompany him.\"\n\n\"May it please your lordship,\" said the eager Luis, \"may I go with you?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Don Alonzo de Carregas, turning to the ardent boy. \"Where the\nking goes I go, and where I go thou shalt be my companion. See, se\u00f1ors,\"\nhe said, turning to the others, \"how the ready faith of boyhood puts your\nfears to shame. To his Majesty the terrors of this goblin cave are but a\njest which frightens the old and only rouses the young to courage. The\nking may find the recesses of the cavern filled with gold and jewels; he\nwho goes with him may share them. This boy is my first recruit: who\nfollows?\"\n\nBy this time a whole group of courtiers, young and old, had assembled\nabout Don Alonzo, and every man below thirty years was ready to pledge\nhimself to the enterprise. But the older courtiers and the archbishop\nOppas were beseeching the king to refrain. \"Respect, O king,\" they said,\n\"the custom held sacred by twenty-seven of thy predecessors. Give us but\nan estimate of the sum that may, in thy kingly mind, represent the wealth\nthat is within the cavern walls, and we will raise it on our own domains,\nrather than see the sacred tradition set at nought.\" The king's only\nanswer was, \"Follow me,\" Don Alonzo hastily sending the boy Luis to\ncollect the younger knights who had already pledged themselves to the\nenterprise. A gallant troop, they made their way down the steep steps\nwhich led from the palace to the cave. The news had spread; the ladies had\ngathered on the balconies, and the bright face of one laughing girl looked\nfrom a bower window, while she tossed a rose to the happy Luis. Alas, it\nfell short of its mark and hit the robes of Archbishop Oppas, who stood\nwith frowning face as the youngster swept by. The archbishop crushed it\nunwittingly in the hand that held the crosier.\n\nThe rusty padlocks were broken, and each fell clanking on the floor, and\nwas brushed away by mailed heels. They passed from room to room with\ntorches, for the cavern extended far beneath the earth; yet they found no\ntreasure save the jewelled table of Solomon. But for their great\nexpectations, this table alone might have proved sufficient to reward\ntheir act of daring. Some believed that it had been brought by the Romans\nfrom Solomon's temple, and from Rome by the Goths and Vandals who sacked\nthat city and afterwards conquered Spain; but all believed it to be\nsacred, and now saw it to be gorgeous. Some describe it as being of gold,\nset with precious stones; others, as of gold and silver, making it yellow\nand white in hue, ornamented with a row of pearls, a row of rubies, and\nanother row of emeralds. It is generally agreed that it stood on three\nhundred and sixty feet, each made of a single emerald. Being what it was,\nthe king did not venture to remove it, but left it where it was.\nTraversing chamber after chamber and finding all empty, they at last found\nall passages leading to the inmost apartment, which had a marble urn in\nthe centre. Yet all eyes presently turned from this urn to a large\npainting on the wall which displayed a troop of horsemen in full motion.\nTheir horses were of Arab breed, their arms were scimitars and lances,\nwith fluttering pennons; they wore turbans, and their coarse black hair\nfell over their shoulders; they were dressed in skins. Never had there\nbeen seen by the courtiers a mounted troop so wild, so eager, so\nformidable. Turning from them to the marble urn, the king drew from it a\nparchment, which said: \"These are the people who, whenever this cave is\nentered and the spell contained in this urn is broken, shall possess this\ncountry. An idle curiosity has done its work.[2]\n\n[Footnote 2: \"_Latinas letras \u00e1 la margen puestas\n             Decian:--'Cuando aquesta puerta y arca\n             Fueran abiertas, gentes como estas\n             Pondr\u00e1n por tierra cuanto Espa\u00f1a abarca._\"\n             --LOPE DE VEGA.]\n\nThe rash king, covering his eyes with his hands, fled outward from the\ncavern; his knights followed him, but Don Alonzo lingered last except the\nboy Luis. \"Nevertheless, my lord,\" said Luis, \"I should like to strike a\nblow at these bold barbarians.\" \"We may have an opportunity,\" said the\ngloomy knight. He closed the centre gate of the cavern, and tried to\nreplace the broken padlocks, but it was in vain. In twenty-four hours the\nstory had travelled over the kingdom.\n\nThe boy Luis little knew into what a complex plot he was drifting. In the\nsecret soul of his protector, Don Alonzo, there burned a great anger\nagainst the weak and licentious king. He and his father, Count Julian, and\nArchbishop Oppas, his uncle, were secretly brooding plans of wrath against\nDon Rodrigo for his ill treatment of Don Alonzo's sister, Florinda. Rumors\nhad told them that an army of strange warriors from Africa, who had\nhitherto carried all before them, were threatening to cross the straits\nnot yet called Gibraltar, and descend on Spain. All the ties of fidelity\nheld these courtiers to the king; but they secretly hated him, and wished\nfor his downfall. By the next day they had planned to betray him to the\nMoors. Count Julian had come to make his military report to Don Rodrigo,\nand on some pretext had withdrawn Florinda from the court. \"When you come\nagain,\" said the pleasure-loving king, \"bring me some hawks from the\nsouth, that we may again go hawking.\" \"I will bring you hawks enough,\" was\nthe answer, \"and such as you never saw before.\" \"But Rodrigo,\" says the\nArabian chronicler, \"did not understand the full meaning of his words.\"\n\nIt was a hard blow for the young Luis when he discovered what a plot was\nbeing urged around him. He would gladly have been faithful to the king,\nworthless as he knew him to be; but Don Alonzo had been his benefactor,\nand he held by him. Meanwhile the conspiracy drew towards completion, and\nthe Arab force was drawing nearer to the straits. A single foray into\nSpain had shown Musa, the Arab general, the weakness of the kingdom; that\nthe cities were unfortified, the citizens unarmed, and many of the nobles\nlukewarm towards the king. \"Hasten,\" he said, \"towards that country where\nthe palaces are filled with gold and silver, and the men cannot fight in\ntheir defence.\" Accordingly, in the early spring of the year 711, Musa\nsent his next in command, Tarik, to cross to Spain with an army of seven\nthousand men, consisting mostly of chosen cavalry. They crossed the\nstraits then called the Sea of Narrowness, embarking the troops at Tangier\nand Ceute in many merchant vessels, and landing at that famous promontory\ncalled thenceforth by the Arab general's name, the Rock of Tarik,\nDschebel-Tarik, or, more briefly, Gibraltar.\n\nLuis, under Don Alonzo, was with the Spanish troops sent hastily down to\nresist the Arab invaders, and, as these troops were mounted, he had many\nopportunities of seeing the new enemies and observing their ways. They\nwere a picturesque horde; their breasts were covered with mail armor; they\nwore white turbans on their heads, carried their bows slung across their\nbacks, and their swords suspended to their girdles, while they held their\nlong spears firmly grasped in their hands. The Arabs said that their\nfashion of mail armor had come to them from King David, \"to whom,\" they\nsaid, \"God made iron soft, and it became in his hands as thread.\" More\nthan half of them were mounted on the swift horses which were peculiar to\ntheir people; and the white, red, and black turbans and cloaks made a most\nstriking picture around the camp-fires. These men, too, were already\ntrained and successful soldiers, held together both by a common religion\nand by the hope of spoil. There were twelve thousand of them by the most\nprobable estimate,--for Musa had sent reinforcements,--and they had\nagainst them from five to eight times their number. But of the Spaniards\nonly a small part were armed or drilled, or used to warfare, and great\nmultitudes of them had to put their reliance in clubs, slings, axes, and\nshort scythes. The cavalry were on the wings, where Luis found himself,\nwith Count Julian and Archbishop Oppas to command them. Soon, however, Don\nAlonzo and Luis were detached, with others, to act as escort to the king,\nDon Rodrigo.\n\nThe battle began soon after daybreak on Sunday, July 19, 711. As the\nSpanish troops advanced, their trumpets sounded defiance and were answered\nby Moorish horns and kettledrums. While they drew near, the shouts of the\nSpaniards were drowned in the _lelie_ of the Arabs, the phrase _L\u00e1\nil\u00e1-ha ella-llah_--there is no deity but God. As they came nearer yet,\nthere is a tradition that Rodrigo looking on the Moslem, said, \"By the\nfaith of the Messiah, these are the very men I saw painted on the walls of\nthe cave at Toledo.\" Yet he certainly bore himself like a king, and he\nrode on the battle-field in a chariot of ivory lined with gold, having a\nsilken awning decked with pearls and rubies, while the vehicle was drawn\nby three white mules abreast. He was then nearly eighty, and was dressed\nin a silken robe embroidered with pearls. He had brought with him in carts\nand on mules his treasures in jewels and money; and he had trains of mules\nwhose only load consisted of ropes, to bind the arms of his captives, so\nsure was he of making every Arab his prisoner. Driving along the lines he\naddressed his troops boldly, and arriving at the centre quitted his\nchariot, put on a horned helmet, and mounted his white horse Orelio.\n\nThis was before the invention of gunpowder, and all battles were hand to\nhand. On the first day the result was doubtful, and Tarik rode through the\nArab ranks, calling on them to fight for their religion and their safety.\nAs the onset began, Tarik rode furiously at a Spanish chief whom he took\nfor the king, and struck him down. For a moment it was believed to be the\nking whom he had killed, and from that moment new energy was given to the\nArabs. The line of the Spaniards wavered; and at this moment the whole\nwing of cavalry to which Luis belonged rode out from its place and passed\non the flank of the army, avoiding both Spaniard and Arab. \"What means\nthis?\" said Luis to the horseman by his side. \"It means,\" was the answer,\n\"that Bishop Oppas is betraying the king.\" At this moment Don Alonzo rode\nup and cheered their march with explanations. \"No more,\" he said, \"will we\nobey this imbecile old king who can neither fight nor govern. He and his\ntroops are but so many old women; it is only these Arabs who are men. All\nis arranged with Tarik, and we will save our country by joining the only\nman who can govern it.\" Luis groaned in dismay; it seemed to him an act of\ndespicable treachery; but those around him seemed mostly prepared for it,\nand he said to himself, \"After all, Don Alonzo is my chief; I must hold by\nhim;\" so he kept with the others, and the whole cavalry wing followed\nOppas to a knoll, whence they watched the fight. It soon became a panic;\nthe Arabs carried all before them, and the king himself was either killed\nor hid himself in a convent.\n\nMany a Spaniard of the seceding wing of cavalry reproached himself\nafterwards for what had been done; and while the archbishop had some\ninfluence with the conquering general and persuaded him to allow the\nChristians everywhere to retain a part of their churches, yet he had,\nafter all, the reward of a traitor in contempt and self-reproach. This he\ncould bear no longer, and organizing an expedition from a Spanish port, he\nand six minor bishops, with many families of the Christians, made their\nway towards Gibraltar. They did not make their escape, however, without\nattracting notice and obstruction. As they rode among the hills with their\nlong train, soldiers, ecclesiastics, women, and children, they saw a\ngalloping band of Arabs in pursuit. The archbishop bade them turn\ninstantly into a deserted castle they were just passing, to drop the\nportcullis and man the walls. That they might look as numerous as\npossible, he bade all the women dress themselves like men and tie their\nlong hair beneath their chins to resemble beards. He then put helmets on\ntheir heads and lances in their hands, and thus the Arab leader saw a\nformidable host on the walls to be besieged. In obedience, perhaps, to\norders, he rode away and after sufficient time had passed, the\narchbishop's party rode onward towards their place of embarkation. Luis\nfound himself beside a dark-eyed maiden, who ambled along on a white mule,\nand when he ventured to joke her a little on her late appearance as an\narmed cavalier, she said coyly, \"Did you think my only weapons were\nroses?\" Looking eagerly at her, he recognized the laughing face which he\nhad once seen at a window; but ere he could speak again she had struck her\nmule lightly and taken refuge beside the archbishop, where Luis dared not\nventure. He did not recognize the maiden again till they met on board one\nof the vessels which the Arabs had left at Gibraltar, and on which they\nembarked for certain islands of which Oppas had heard, which lay in the\nSea of Darkness. Among these islands they were to find their future home.\n\nThe voyage, at first rough, soon became serene and quiet; the skies were\nclear, the moon shone; the veils of the Spanish maidens were convenient by\nday and useless at evening, and Luis had many a low-voiced talk on the\nquarter-deck with Juanita, who proved to be a young relative of the\narchbishop. It was understood that she was to take the veil, and that,\nyoung as she was, she would become, by and by, the lady abbess of a\nnunnery to be established on the islands; and as her kinsman, though\nsevere to others, was gentle to her, she had her own way a good deal--\nespecially beneath the moon and the stars. For the rest, they had daily\nservices of religion, as dignified and sonorous as could have taken place\non shore, except on those rare occasions when the chief bass voice was\nhushed in seasickness in some cabin below. Beautiful Gregorian masses rose\nto heaven, and it is certain that the Pilgrim fathers, in their two months\non the Atlantic, almost a thousand years later, had no such rich melody as\nfloated across those summer seas. Luis was a favorite of Oppas, the\narchbishop, who never seemed to recognize any danger in having an\nenamoured youth so near to the demure future abbess. He consulted the\nyouth about many plans. Their aim, it seemed, was the great island called\nAntillia, as yet unexplored, but reputed to be large enough for many\nthousand people. Oppas was to organize the chief settlement, and he\nplanned to divide the island into seven dioceses, each bishop having a\npermanent colony. Once established, they would trade with Spain, and\nwhether it remained Moorish or became Christian, Oppas was sure of\nfriendly relations.\n\nThe priests were divided among the three vessels, and among them there\nwas that occasional jarring from which even holy men are not quite free.\nThe different bishops had their partisans, but none dared openly face the\nimperial Oppas. His supposed favorite Luis was less formidable; he was\nwatched and spied upon, while his devotion to the dignified Juanita was\napparent to all. Yet he was always ready to leave her side when Oppas\ncalled, and then they discussed together the future prospects of the\nparty: when they should see land, whether it would really be Antillia,\nwhether they should have a good landfall, whether the island would be\nfertile, whether there would be native inhabitants, and if so, whether\nthey should be baptized and sent to Spain as slaves, or whether they\nshould be retained on the island. It was decided, on the whole, that this\nlast should be done; and what with the prospect of winning souls, and the\ncertainty of having obedient subjects, the prospect seemed inviting.\n\nOne morning, at sunrise, there lay before them a tropic island, soft and\ngraceful, with green shrubs and cocoanut trees, and rising in the distance\nto mountains whose scooped tops and dark, furrowed sides spoke of extinct\nvolcanoes--yet not so extinct but that a faint wreath of vapor still\nmounted from the utmost peak of the highest among them. Here and there\nwere seen huts covered with great leaves or sheaves of grass, and among\nthese they saw figures moving and disappearing, watching their approach,\nyet always ready to disappear in the recesses of the woods. Sounding\ncarefully the depth of water with their imperfect tackle, they anchored\noff the main beach, and sent a boat on shore from each vessel, Luis being\nin command of one. The natives at first hovered in the distance, but\npresently came down to the shore to meet the visitors, some even swimming\noff to the boats in advance. They were of a yellow complexion, with good\nfeatures, were naked except for goat-skins or woven palm fibres, or reeds\npainted in different colors; and were gay and merry, singing and dancing\namong themselves. When brought on board the ships, they ate bread and\nfigs, but refused wine and spices; and they seemed not to know the use of\nrings or of swords, when shown to them. Whatever was given to them they\ndivided with one another. They cultivated fruit and grain on their island,\nreared goats, and seemed willing to share all with their newly found\nfriends. Luis, always thoughtful, and somewhat anxious in temperament,\nfelt many doubts as to the usage which these peaceful islanders would\nreceive from the ships' company, no matter how many bishops and holy men\nmight be on board.\n\nAll that day there was exploring by small companies, and on the next the\narchbishop landed in solemn procession. The boats from the ships all met\nat early morning, near the shore, the sight bringing together a crowd of\nislanders on the banks; men, women, and children, who, with an instinct\nthat something of importance was to happen, decked themselves with\nflowers, wreaths, and plumes, the number increasing constantly and the\ncrowd growing more and more picturesque. Forming from the boats, a\nprocession marched slowly up the beach, beginning with a few lay brethren,\ncarrying tools for digging; then acolytes bearing tall crosses; and then\nwhite-robed priests; the seven bishops being carried on litters, the\narchbishop most conspicuously of all. Solemn chants were sung as the\nprocession moved through the calm water towards the placid shore, and the\ngentle savages joined in kneeling while a solemn mass was said, and the\ncrosses were uplifted which took possession of the new-found land in the\nname of the Church.\n\nThese solemn services occupied much of the day; later they carried tents\non shore, and some of them occupied large storehouses which the natives\nhad built for drying their figs; and to the women, under direction of\nJuanita, was allotted a great airy cave, with smaller caves branching from\nit, where the natives had made palm baskets. Day after day they labored,\ntransferring all their goods and provisions to the land,--tools, and\nhorses, and mules, clothing, and simple furniture. Most of them joined\nwith pleasure in this toil, but others grew restless as they transferred\nall their possessions to land, and sometimes the women especially would\nclimb to high places and gaze longingly towards Spain.\n\nOne morning a surprise came to Luis. Every night it was their custom to\nhave a great fire on the beach, and to meet and sing chants around it. One\nnight Luis had personally put out the blaze of the fire, as it was more\nwindy than usual, and went to sleep in his tent. Soon after midnight he\nwas awakened by a glare of a great light upon his tent's thin walls, and\nhastily springing up, he saw their largest caravel on fire. Rushing out to\ngive the alarm, he saw a similar flame kindled in the second vessel, and\nthen, after some delay, in the third. Then he saw a dark boat pulling\nhastily towards the shore, and going down to the beach he met their most\ntrusty captain, who told him that the ships had been burnt by order of the\narchbishop, in order that their return might be hopeless, and that their\nstay on the island might be forever.\n\nThere was some lamentation among the emigrants when they saw their\nretreat thus cut off, but Luis when once established on shore did not\nshare it; to be near Juanita was enough for him, though he rarely saw her.\nHe began sometimes to feel that the full confidence of the archbishop was\nwithdrawn from him, but he was still high in office, and he rode with\nOppas over the great island, marking it out by slow degrees into seven\ndivisions, that each bishop might have a diocese and a city of his own.\nSoon the foundations began to be laid, and houses and churches began to be\nbuilt, for the soft volcanic rock was easily worked, though not very solid\nfor building. The spot for the cathedral was selected with the unerring\neye for a fine situation which the Roman Catholic Church has always shown,\nand the adjoining convent claimed, as it rose, the care of Juanita. As\ngeneral superintendent of the works, it was the duty of Luis sometimes to\nbe in that neighborhood, until one unlucky day when the two lovers,\nlingering to watch the full moon rise, were interrupted by one of the\nyounger bishops, a black-browed Spaniard of stealthy ways, who had before\nnow taken it upon himself to watch them. Nothing could be more innocent\nthan their dawning loves, yet how could any love be held innocent on the\npart of a maiden who was the kinswoman of an archbishop and was his\ndestined choice for the duties of an abbess? The fact that she had never\nyet taken her preliminary vows or given her consent to take them, counted\nfor nothing in the situation; though any experienced lady-superior could\nhave told the archbishop that no maiden could be wisely made an abbess\nuntil she had given some signs of having a vocation for a religious life.\n\nFrom that moment the youthful pair met no more for weeks. It seemed\nalways necessary for Luis to be occupied elsewhere than in the Cathedral\ncity; as the best architect on the island, he was sent here, there, and\neverywhere; and the six other churches rose with more rapidity because the\narchbishop preferred to look after his own. The once peaceful natives\nfound themselves a shade less happy when they were required to work all\nday long as quarry-men or as builders, but it was something, had they but\nknown it, that they were not borne away as slaves, as happened later on\nother islands to so many of their race. To Luis they were always loyal for\nhis cheery ways, although there seemed a change in his spirits as time\nwent on. But an event happened which brought a greater change still.\n\nA Spanish caravel was seen one day, making towards the port and showing\nsignals of distress. Luis, having just then found an excuse for visiting\nthe Cathedral city, was the first to board her and was hailed with joy by\nthe captain. He was a townsman of the youth's and had given him his first\nlessons in navigation. He had been bound, it seemed, for the Canary\nIslands, and had put in for repairs, which needed only a few days in the\nquiet waters of a sheltered port. He could tell Luis of his parents, of\nhis home, and that the northern part of Spain, under Arab sway, was\nhumanely governed, and a certain proportion of Christian churches allowed.\nIn a few days the caravel sailed again at nightfall; but it carried with\nit two unexpected passengers; the archbishop lost his architect, and the\nproposed convent lost its unwilling abbess.\n\nFrom this point both the Island of the Seven Cities and its escaping\nlovers disappear from all definite records. It was a period when\nexpeditions of discovery came and went, and when one wondrous tale drove\nout another. There exist legends along the northern coast of Spain in the\nregion of Santander, for instance, of a youth who once eloped with a\nhigh-born maiden and came there to dwell, but there may have been many\nsuch youths and many such maidens--who knows? Of Antillia itself, or the\nIsland of the Seven Cities, it is well known that it appeared on the maps\nof the Atlantic, sometimes under the one name and sometimes under another,\nsix hundred years after the date assigned by the story that has here been\ntold. It was said by Fernando Columbus to have been revisited by a\nPortuguese sailor in 1447; and the name appeared on the globe of Behaim in\n1492.\n\nThe geographer Toscanelli, in his famous letter to Columbus, recommended\nAntillia as likely to be useful to Columbus as a way station for reaching\nIndia, and when the great explorer reached Hispaniola, he was supposed to\nhave discovered the mysterious island, whence the name of Antilles was\ngiven to the group. Later, the first explorers of New Mexico thought that\nthe pueblos were the Seven Cities; so that both the names of the imaginary\nisland have been preserved, although those of Luis de Vega and his\nfaithful Juanita have not been recorded until the telling of this tale.\n\n\n\nXVI\n\nHARALD THE VIKING\n\n\nErik the Red, the most famous of all Vikings, had three sons, and once\nwhen they were children the king came to visit Erik and passed through the\nplayground where the boys were playing. Leif and Biorn, the two oldest,\nwere building little houses and barns and were making believe that they\nwere full of cattle and sheep, while Harald, who was only four years old,\nwas sailing chips of wood in a pool. The king asked Harald what they were,\nand he said, \"Ships of war.\" King Olaf laughed and said, \"The time may\ncome when you will command ships, my little friend.\" Then he asked Biorn\nwhat he would like best to have. \"Corn-land,\" he said; \"ten farms.\" \"That\nwould yield much corn,\" the king replied. Then he asked Leif the same\nquestion, and he answered, \"Cows.\" \"How many?\" \"So many that when they\nwent to the lake to be watered, they would stand close round the edge, so\nthat not another could pass.\" \"That would be a large housekeeping,\" said\nthe king, and he asked the same question of Harald. \"What would you like\nbest to have?\" \"Servants and followers,\" said the child, stoutly. \"How\nmany would you like?\" \"Enough,\" said the child, \"to eat up all the cows\nand crops of my brothers at a single meal.\" Then the king laughed, and\nsaid to the mother of the children, \"You are bringing up a king.\"\n\nAs the boys grew, Leif and Harald were ever fond of roaming, while Biorn\nwished to live on the farm at peace. Their sister Freydis went with the\nolder boys and urged them on. She was not gentle and amiable, but full of\nenergy and courage: she was also quarrelsome and vindictive. People said\nof her that even if her brothers were all killed, yet the race of Erik the\nRed would not end while she lived; that \"she practised more of shooting\nand the handling of sword and shield than of sewing or embroidering, and\nthat as she was able, she did evil oftener than good; and that when she\nwas hindered she ran into the woods and slew men to get their property.\"\nShe was always urging her brothers to deeds of daring and adventure. One\nday they had been hawking, and when they let slip the falcons, Harald's\nfalcon killed two blackcocks in one flight and three in another. The dogs\nran and brought the birds, and he said proudly to the others, \"It will be\nlong before most of you have any such success,\" and they all agreed to\nthis. He rode home in high spirits and showed his birds to his sister\nFreydis. \"Did any king,\" he asked, \"ever make so great a capture in so\nshort a time?\" \"It is, indeed,\" she said, \"a good morning's hunting to\nhave got five blackcocks, but it was still better when in one morning a\nking of Norway took five kings and subdued all their kingdoms.\" Then\nHarald went away very humble and besought his father to let him go and\nserve on the Varangian Guard of King Otho at Constantinople, that he might\nlearn to be a warrior.\n\nSo Harald was brought from his Norwegian home by his father Erik the Red,\nin his galley called the _Sea-serpent_, and sailed with him through\nthe Mediterranean Sea, and was at last made a member of the Emperor Otho's\nVarangian Guard at Constantinople. This guard will be well remembered by\nthe readers of Scott's novel, \"Count Robert of Paris,\" and was maintained\nby successive emperors and drawn largely from the Scandinavian races. Erik\nthe Red had no hesitation in leaving his son among them, as the young man\nwas stout and strong, very self-willed, and quite able to defend himself.\nThe father knew also that the Varangian Guard, though hated by the people,\nheld to one another like a band of brothers; and that any one brought up\namong them would be sure of plenty of fighting and plenty of gold,--the\ntwo things most prized by early Norsemen. For ordinary life, Harald's\nchief duties would be to lounge about the palace, keeping guard, wearing\nhelmet and buckler and bearskin, with purple underclothes and golden\nclasped hose; and bearing as armor a mighty battle-axe and a small\nscimitar. Such was the life led by Harald, till one day he had a message\nfrom his father, through a new recruit, calling him home to join an\nexpedition to the western seas. \"I hear, my son,\" the message said, \"that\nyour good emperor, whom may the gods preserve, is sorely ill and may die\nany day. When he is dead, be prompt in getting your share of the plunder\nof the palace and come back to me.\"\n\nThe emperor died, and the order was fulfilled. It was the custom of the\nVarangians to reward themselves in this way for their faithful services of\nprotection; and the result is that, to this day, Greek and Arabic gold\ncrosses and chains are to be found in the houses of Norwegian peasants and\nmay be seen in the museums of Christiania and Copenhagen. No one was\nesteemed the less for this love of spoil, if he was only generous in\ngiving. The Norsemen spoke contemptuously of gold as \"the serpent's bed,\"\nand called a generous man \"a hater of the serpent's bed,\" because such a\nman parts with gold as with a thing he hates.\n\nWhen the youth came to his father, he found Erik the Red directing the\nbuilding of one of the great Norse galleys, nearly eighty feet long and\nseventeen wide and only six feet deep. The boat had twenty ribs, and the\nframe was fastened together by withes made of roots, while the oaken\nplanks were held by iron rivets. The oars were twenty feet long, and were\nput through oar holes, and the rudder, shaped like a large oar, was not at\nthe end, but was attached to a projecting beam on the starboard\n(originally steer-board) side. The ship was to be called a Dragon, and was\nto be painted so as to look like one, having a gilded dragon's head at the\nbow and a gilded tail on the stern; while the moving oars would look like\nlegs, and the row of red and white shields, hung along the side of the\nboat, would resemble the scales of a dragon, and the great square sails,\nred and blue, would look like wings. This was the vessel which young\nHarald was to command.\n\nHe had already made trips in just such vessels with his father; had\nlearned to attack the enemy with arrow and spear; also with stones thrown\ndown from above, and with grappling-irons to clutch opposing boats. He had\nlearned to swim, from early childhood, even in the icy northern waters,\nand he had been trained in swimming to hide his head beneath his floating\nshield, so that it could not be seen. He had learned also to carry tinder\nin a walnut shell, enclosed in wax, so that no matter how long he had been\nin the water he could strike a light on reaching shore. He had also\nlearned from his father acts of escape as well as attack. Thus he had once\nsailed on a return trip from Denmark after plundering a town; the ships\nhad been lying at anchor all night in a fog, and at sunlight in the\nmorning lights seemed burning on the sea. But Erik the Red said, \"It is a\nfleet of Danish ships, and the sun strikes on the gilded dragon crests;\nfurl the sail and take to the oars.\" They rowed their best, yet the Danish\nships were overtaking them, when Erik the Red ordered his men to throw\nwood overboard and cover it with Danish plunder. This made some delay, as\nthe Danes stopped to pick it up, and in the same way Erik the Red dropped\nhis provisions, and finally his prisoners; and in the delay thus caused he\ngot away with his own men.\n\nBut now Harald was not to go to Denmark, but to the new western world,\nthe Wonderstrands which Leif had sought and had left without sufficient\nexploration. First, however, he was to call at Greenland, which his father\nhad first discovered. It was the custom of the Viking explorers, when they\nreached a new country, to throw overboard their \"seat posts,\" or\n_setstokka_,--the curved part of their doorways,--and then to land\nwhere they floated ashore. But Erik the Red had lent his to a friend and\ncould not get them back, so that he sailed in search of them, and came to\na new land which he called Greenland, because, as he said, people would be\nattracted thither if it had a good name. Then he established a colony\nthere, and then Leif the Lucky, as he was called, sailed still farther,\nand came to the Wonderstrand, or Magic Shores. These he called Vinland or\nWine-land, and now a rich man named Karlsefne was to send a colony thither\nfrom Greenland, and the young Harald was to go with it and take command of\nit.\n\nNow as Harald was to be presented to the rich Karlsefne, he thought he\nmust be gorgeously arrayed. So he wore a helmet on his head, a red shield\nrichly inlaid with gold and iron, and a sharp sword with an ivory handle\nwound with golden thread. He had also a short spear, and wore over his\ncoat a red silk short cloak on which was embroidered, both before and\nbehind, a yellow lion. We may well believe that the sixty men and five\nwomen who composed the expedition were ready to look on him with\nadmiration, especially as one of the women was his own sister, Freydis,\nnow left to his peculiar care, since Erik the Red had died. The sturdy old\nhero had died still a heathen, and it was only just after his death that\nChristianity was introduced into Greenland, and those numerous churches\nwere built there whose ruins yet remain, even in regions from which all\npopulation has gone.\n\nSo the party of colonists sailed for Vinland, and Freydis, with the four\nolder women, came in Harald's boat, and Freydis took easily the lead among\nthem for strength, though not always, it must be admitted, for amiability.\n\nThe boats of the expedition having left Greenland soon after the year\n1000, coasted the shore as far as they could, rarely venturing into open\nsea. At last, amidst fog and chilly weather, they made land at a point\nwhere a river ran through a lake into the sea, and they could not enter\nfrom the sea except at high tide. It was once believed that this was\nNarragansett Bay in Rhode Island, but this is no longer believed. Here\nthey landed and called the place H\u00f3p, from the Icelandic word _h\u00f3pa_,\nmeaning an inlet from the ocean. Here they found grape-vines growing and\nfields of wild wheat; there were fish in the lake and wild animals in the\nwoods. Here they landed the cattle and the provisions which they had\nbrought with them; and here they built their huts. They went in the\nspring, and during that summer the natives came in boats of skin to trade\nwith them--men described as black, and ill favored, with large eyes and\nbroad cheeks and with coarse hair on their heads. These, it is thought,\nmay have been the Esquimaux. The first time they came, these visitors held\nup a white shield as a sign of peace, and were so frightened by the\nbellowing of the bull that they ran away. Then returning, they brought\nfurs to sell and wished to buy weapons, but Harald tried another plan: he\nbade the women bring out milk, butter, and cheese from their dairies, and\nwhen the Skraelings saw that, they wished for nothing else, and, the\nlegend says, \"the Skraelings carried away their wares in their stomachs,\nbut the Norsemen had the skins they had purchased.\" This happened yet\nagain, but at the second visit one of the Skraelings was accidentally\nkilled or injured.\n\nThe next time the Skraelings came they were armed with slings, and raised\nupon a pole a great blue ball and attacked the Norsemen so furiously that\nthey were running away when Erik's sister, Freydis, came out before them\nwith bare arms, and took up a sword, saying, \"Why do you run, strong men\nas you are, from these miserable dwarfs whom I thought you would knock\ndown like cattle? Give me weapons, and I will fight better than any of\nyou.\" Then the rest took courage and began to fight, and the Skraelings\nwere driven back. Once more the strangers came, and one of them took up an\naxe, a thing which he had not before seen, and struck at one of his\ncompanions, killing him. Then the leader took the axe and threw it into\nthe water, after which the Skraelings retreated, and were not seen again.\n\nThe winter was a mild one, and while it lasted, the Norsemen worked\nbusily at felling wood and house-building. They had also many amusements,\nin most of which Harald excelled. They used to swim in all weathers. One\nof their feats was to catch seals and sit on them while swimming; another\nwas to pull one another down and remain as long as possible under water.\nHarald could swim for a mile or more with his armor on, or with a\ncompanion on his shoulder. In-doors they used to play the tug of war,\ndragging each other by a walrus hide across the fire. Harald was good at\nthis, and was also the best archer, sometimes aiming at something placed\non a boy's head, the boy having a cloth tied around his head, and held by\ntwo men, that he might not move at all on hearing the whistling of the\narrow. In this way Harald could even shoot an arrow under a nut placed on\nthe head, so that the nut would roll down and the head not be hurt. He\ncould plant a spear in the ground and then shoot an arrow upward so\nskilfully that it would turn in the air and fall with the point in the end\nof the spear-shaft. He could also shoot a blunt arrow through the thickest\nox-hide from a cross-bow. He could change weapons from one hand to the\nother during a fencing match, or fence with either hand, or throw two\nspears at the same time, or catch a spear in motion. He could run so fast\nthat no horse could overtake him, and play the rough games with bat and\nball, using a ball of the hardest wood. He could race on snowshoes, or\nwrestle when bound by a belt to his antagonist. Then when he and his\ncompanions wished a rest, they amused themselves with harp-playing or\nriddles or chess. The Norsemen even played chess on board their vessels,\nand there are still to be seen, on some of these, the little holes that\nwere formerly used for the sharp ends of the chessmen, so that they should\nnot be displaced.\n\nThey could not find that any European had ever visited this place; but\nsome of the Skraelings told them of a place farther south, which they\ncalled \"the Land of the Whiteman,\" or \"Great Ireland.\" They said that in\nthat place there were white men who clothed themselves in long white\ngarments, carried before them poles to which white cloths were hung, and\ncalled with a loud voice. These, it was thought by the Norsemen, must be\nChristian processions, in which banners were borne and hymns were chanted.\nIt has been thought from this that some expedition from Ireland--that of\nSt. Brandan, for instance--may have left a settlement there, long before,\nbut this has never been confirmed. The Skraelings and the Northmen were\ngood friends for a time; until at last one of Erik's own warriors killed a\nSkraeling by accident, and then all harmony was at an end.\n\nThey saw no hope of making a lasting settlement there, and, moreover,\nFreydis who was very grasping, tried to deceive the other settlers and get\nmore than her share of everything, so that Harald himself lost patience\nwith her and threatened her. It happened that one of the men of the party,\nOlaf, was Harald's foster-brother. They had once had a fight, and after\nthe battle had agreed that they would be friends for life and always share\nthe same danger. For this vow they were to walk under the turf; that is, a\nstrip of turf was cut and held above their heads, and they stood beneath\nand let their blood flow upon the ground whence the turf had been cut.\nAfter this they were to own everything by halves and either must avenge\nthe other's death. This was their brotherhood; but Freydis did not like\nit; so she threatened Olaf, and tried to induce men to kill him, for she\ndid not wish to bring upon herself the revenge that must come if she slew\nhim.\n\nThis was the reason why the whole enterprise failed, and why Olaf\npersuaded Harald, for the sake of peace, to return to Greenland in the\nspring and take a load of valuable timber to sell there, including one\nstick of what was called massur-wood, which was as valuable as mahogany,\nand may have been at some time borne by ocean currents to the beach. It is\nhardly possible that, as some have thought, the colonists established a\nregular trade in this wood for no such wood grows on the northern Atlantic\nshores. However this may be, the party soon returned, after one winter in\nVinland the Good; and on the way back Harald did one thing which made him\nespecially dear to his men.\n\nA favorite feat of the Norsemen was to toss three swords in the air and\ncatch each by the handle as it came down. This was called the\n_handsax_ game. The young men used also to try the feat of running\nalong the oar-blades of the rowers as they were in motion, passing around\nthe bow of the vessel with a spring and coming round to the stern over the\noars on the other side. Few could accomplish this, but no one but Harald\ncould do it and play the _handsax_ game as he ran; and when he did\nit, they all said that he was the most skilful man at _idrottie_ ever\nseen. That was their word for an athletic feat. But presently came a time\nwhen not only his courage but his fairness and justice were to be tried.\n\nIt happened in this way. There was nothing of which the Norsemen were\nmore afraid than of the _teredo_, or shipworm, which gnaws the wood\nof ships. It was observed in Greenland and Iceland that pieces of wood\noften floated on shore which were filled with holes made by this animal,\nand they thought that in certain places the seas were full of this worm,\nso that a ship would be bored and sunk in a little while. It is said that\non this return voyage Harald's vessel entered a worm-sea and presently\nbegan to sink. They had, however, provided a smaller boat smeared with\nsea-oil, which the worms would not attack. They went into the boat, but\nfound that it would not hold more than half of them all. Then Harald said,\n\"We will divide by lots, without regard to the rank; each taking his\nchance with the rest.\" This they thought, the Norse legend says, \"a\nhigh-minded offer.\" They drew lots, and Harald was among those assigned to\nthe safer boat. He stepped in, and when he was there a man called from the\nother boat and said, \"Dost thou intend, Harald, to separate from me here?\"\nHarald answered, \"So it turns out,\" and the man said, \"Very different was\nthy promise to my father when we came from Greenland, for the promise was\nthat we should share the same fate.\"\n\nThen Harald said, \"It shall not be thus. Go into the boat, and I will go\nback into the ship, since thou art so anxious to live.\" Then Harald went\nback to the ship, while the man took his place in the boat, and after that\nHarald was never heard of more.\n\n\n\nXVII\n\nTHE SEARCH FOR NORUMBEGA\n\n\nSir Humphrey Gilbert, colonel of the British forces in the Netherlands,\nwas poring over the manuscript narrative of David Ingram, mariner. Ingram\nhad in 1568-69 taken the widest range of travel that had ever been taken\nin the new continent, of which it was still held doubtful by many whether\nit was or was not a part of Asia. \"Surely,\" Gilbert said to his\nhalf-brother, Walter Raleigh, a youth of twenty-three, \"this knave hath\nseen strange things. He hath been set ashore by John Hawkins in the Gulf\nof Mexico and there left behind. He hath travelled northward with two of\nhis companions along Indian trails; he hath even reached Norumbega; he\nhath seen that famous city with its houses of crystal and silver.\"\n\n\"Pine logs and hemlock bark, belike,\" said Raleigh, scornfully.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Gilbert, \"he hath carefully written it down. He saw kings\ndecorated with rubies six inches long; and they were borne on chairs of\nsilver and crystal, adorned with precious stones. He saw pearls as common\nas pebbles, and the natives were laden down by their ornaments of gold and\nsilver. The city of Bega was three-quarters of a mile long and had many\nstreets wider than those of London. Some houses had massive pillars of\ncrystal and silver.\"\n\n\"What assurance can he give?\" asked Raleigh.\n\n\"He offers on his life to prove it.\"\n\n\"A small offer, mayhap. There be many of these lying mariners whose lives\nare as worthless as the stories they relate. But what said he of the\nnatives?\"\n\n\"Kindly disposed,\" was the reply, \"so far as he went, but those dwelling\nfarther north, where he did not go, were said to be cannibals with teeth\nlike those of dogs, whereby you may know them.\"\n\n\"Travellers' tales,\" said Raleigh. \"_Omne ignotum pro mirifico_.\"\n\n\"He returned,\" said Gilbert, disregarding the interruption, \"in the\n_Gargarine_, a French vessel commanded by Captain Champagne.\"\n\n\"Methinks something of the flavor represented by the good captain's name\nhath got into your Englishman's brain. Good ale never gives such\nfantasies. Doth he perchance speak of elephants?\"\n\n\"He doth,\" said Sir Humphrey, hesitatingly. \"Perchance he saw them not,\nbut heard of them only.\"\n\n\"What says he of them?\" asked Raleigh.\n\n\"He says that he saw in that country both elephants and ounces; and he\nsays that their trumpets are made of elephants' teeth.\"\n\n\"But the houses,\" said Raleigh; \"tell me of the houses.\"\n\n\"In every house,\" said Gilbert, reading from the manuscript, \"they have\nscoops, buckets, and divers vessels, all of massive silver with which they\nthrow out water and otherwise employ them. The women wear great plates of\ngold covering their bodies, and chains of great pearls in the manner of\ncurvettes; and the men wear manilions or bracelets on each arm and each\nleg, some of gold and some of silver.\"\n\n\"Whence come they, these gauds?\"\n\n\"There are great rivers where one may find pieces of gold as big as the\nfist; and there are great rocks of crystal, sufficient to load many ships.\"\n\nThis was all which was said on that day, but never was explorer more\neager than Gilbert. He wrote a \"Discourse of a Discoverie for a New\nPassage to Cathaia and the East Indies\"--published without his knowledge\nby George Gascoigne. In 1578 he had from Queen Elizabeth a patent of\nexploration, allowing him to take possession of any uncolonized lands in\nNorth America, paying for these a fifth of all gold and silver found. The\nnext year he sailed with Raleigh for Newfoundland, but one vessel was lost\nand the others returned to England. In 1583, he sailed again, taking with\nhim the narrative of Ingram, which he reprinted. He also took with him a\nlearned Hungarian from Buda, named Parmenius, who went for the express\npurpose of singing the praise of Norumbega in Latin verse, but was drowned\nin Sir Humphrey's great flag-ship, the _Delight_. This wreck took\nplace near Sable Island, and as most of the supplies for the expedition\nwent down in the flag-ship, the men in the remaining vessels grew so\nimpatient as to compel a return. There were two vessels, the _Golden\nHind_ of forty tons, and the _Squirrel_ of ten tons, this last\nbeing a mere boat then called a frigate, a small vessel propelled by both\nsails and oars, quite unlike the war-ship afterwards called by that name.\nOn both these vessels the men were so distressed that they gathered on the\nbulwarks, pointing to their empty mouths and their ragged clothing. The\nofficers of the _Golden Hind_ were unwilling to return, but consented\non Sir Humphrey's promise that they should come back in the spring; they\nsailed for England on the 31st of August. All wished him to return in the\n_Golden Hind_ as a much larger and safer vessel; the _Squirrel_,\nbesides its smallness, being encumbered on the deck with guns, ammunition,\nand nettings, making it unseaworthy. But when he was begged to remove into\nthe larger vessel, he said, \"I will not forsake my little company going\nhomeward with whom I have passed so many storms and perils.\" One reason\nfor this was, the narrator of the voyage says, because of \"hard reports\ngiven of him that he was afraid of the sea, albeit this was rather\nrashness than advised resolution, to prefer the wind of a vain report to\nthe weight of his own life.\"\n\nOn the very day of sailing they caught their first glimpse of some large\nspecies of seal or walrus, which is thus described by the old narrator of\nthe expedition:--\n\n\"So vpon Saturday in the afternoone the 31 of August, we changed our\ncourse, and returned backe for England, at which very instant, euen in\nwinding about, there passed along betweene vs and towards the land which\nwe now forsooke a very lion to our seeming, in shape, hair and colour, not\nswimming after the maner of a beast by moouing of his feete, but rather\nsliding vpon the water with his whole body (excepting the legs) in sight,\nneither yet in diuing vnder, and againe rising aboue the water, as the\nmaner is, of Whales, Dolphins, Tunise, Porposes, and all other fish: but\nconfidently shewing himselfe aboue water without hiding: Notwithstanding,\nwe presented our selues in open view and gesture to amase him, as all\ncreatures will be commonly at a sudden gaze and sight of men. Thus he\npassed along turning his head to and fro, yawning and gaping wide, with\nougly demonstration of long teeth, and glaring eies, and to bidde vs a\nfarewell (comming right against the Hinde) he sent forth a horrible voyce,\nroaring or bellowing as doeth a lion, which spectacle wee all beheld so\nfarre as we were able to discerne the same, as men prone to wonder at\neuery strange thing, as this doubtlesse was, to see a lion in the Ocean\nsea, or fish in shape of a lion. What opinion others had thereof, and\nchiefly the Generall himselfe, I forbeare to deliuer: But he tooke it for\nBonum Omen [a good omen], reioycing that he was to warre against such an\nenemie, if it were the deuill.\"\n\nWhen they came north of the Azores, very violent storms met them; most\n\"outrageous seas,\" the narrator says; and they saw little lights upon the\nmainyard called then by sailors \"Castor and Pollux,\" and now \"St. Elmo's\nFire\"; yet they had but one of these at a time, and this is thought a sign\nof tempest. On September 9, in the afternoon, \"the general,\" as they\ncalled him, Sir Humphrey, was sitting abaft with a book in his hand, and\ncried out more than once to those in the other vessel, \"We are as near to\nheaven by sea as by land.\" And that same night about twelve o'clock, the\nfrigate being ahead of the _Golden Hind_, the lights of the smaller\nvessel suddenly disappeared, and they knew that she had sunk in the sea.\nThe event is well described in a ballad by Longfellow.\n\nThe name of Norumbega and the tradition of its glories survived Sir\nHumphrey Gilbert. In a French map of 1543, the town appears with castle\nand towers. Jean Allfonsce, who visited New England in that year,\ndescribes it as the capital of a great fur country. Students of Indian\ntongues defined the word as meaning \"the place of a fine city\"; while the\nlearned Grotius seized upon it as being the same as Norberga and so\naffording a relic of the visits of the Northmen. As to the locality, it\nappeared first on the maps as a large island, then as a smaller one, and\nafter 1569 no longer as an island, but a part of the mainland, bordering\napparently on the Penobscot River. Whittier in his poem of \"Norumbega\"\ndescribes a Norman knight as seeking it in vain.\n\n  \"He turned him back, 'O master dear,\n    We are but men misled;\n  And thou hast sought a city here\n    To find a grave instead.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  \"'No builded wonder of these lands\n    My weary eyes shall see;\n  A city never made with hands\n    Alone awaiteth me.'\"\n\nSo Champlain, in 1604, could find no trace of it, and said that \"no such\nmarvel existed,\" while Mark Lescarbot, the Parisian advocate, writing in\n1609, says, \"If this beautiful town ever existed in nature, I would like\nto know who pulled it down, for there is nothing here but huts made of\npickets and covered with the barks of trees or skins.\" Yet it kept its\nplace on maps till 1640, and even Heylin in his \"Cosmography\" (1669)\nspeaks of \"Norumbega and its fair city,\" though he fears that the latter\nnever existed.\n\nIt is a curious fact that the late Mr. Justin Winsor, the eminent\nhistorian, after much inquiry among the present descendants of the Indian\ntribes in Maine, could never find any one who could remember to have heard\nthe name of Norumbega.\n\n\n\nXVIII\n\nTHE GUARDIANS OF THE ST. LAWRENCE\n\n\nWhen in 1611 the Sieur de Champlain went back to France to report his\nwonderful explorations in Canada, he was soon followed by a young\nFrenchman named Vignan, who had spent a whole winter among the Indians, in\na village where there was no other white man. This was a method often\nadopted by the French for getting more knowledge of Indian ways and\ncommanding their confidence. Vignan had made himself a welcome guest in\nthe cabins, and had brought away many of their legends, to which he added\nsome of his own. In particular, he declared that he had penetrated into\nthe interior until he had come upon a great lake of salt water, far to the\nnorthwest. This was, as it happened, the very thing which the French\ngovernment and all Europe had most hoped to find. They had always believed\nthat sooner or later a short cut would be discovered across the newly\nfound continent, a passage leading to the Pacific Ocean and far Cathay.\nThis was the dream of all French explorers, and of Champlain in\nparticular, and his interest was at once excited by anything that looked\ntoward the Pacific. Now Vignan had prepared himself with just the needed\ninformation. He said that during his winter with the Indians he had made\nthe very discovery needed; that he had ascended the river Ottawa, which\nled to a body of salt water so large that it seemed like an ocean; that he\nhad just seen on its shores the wreck of an English ship, from which\neighty men had been taken and slain by the savages, and that they had with\nthem an English boy whom they were keeping to present to Champlain.\n\nThis tale about the English ship was evidently founded on the recent\ncalamities of Henry Hudson, of which Vignan had heard some garbled\naccount, and which he used as coloring for his story. The result was that\nChamplain was thoroughly interested in the tale, and that Vignan was\ncross-examined and tested, and was made at last to certify to the truth\nof it before two notaries of Rochelle. Champlain privately consulted the\nchancellor de Sillery, the old Marquis de Brissac, and others, who all\nassured him that the matter should be followed up; and he resolved to make\nit the subject of an exploration without delay. He sailed in one vessel,\nand Vignan in another, the latter taking with him an ardent young\nFrenchman, Albert de Brissac.\n\nM. de Vignan, talking with the young Brissac on the voyage, told him\nwonderful tales of monsters which were, he said, the guardians of the St.\nLawrence River. There was, he said, an island in the bay of Chaleurs, near\nthe mouth of that river, where a creature dwelt, having the form of a\nwoman and called by the Indians Gougou. She was very frightful, and so\nenormous that the masts of the vessel could not reach her waist. She had\nalready eaten many savages and constantly continued to do so, putting them\nfirst into a great pocket to await her hunger. Some of those who had\nescaped said that this pocket was large enough to hold a whole ship. This\ncreature habitually made dreadful noises, and several savages who came on\nboard claimed to have heard them. A man from St. Malo in France, the Sieur\nde Prevert, confirmed this story, and said that he had passed so near the\nden of this frightful being, that all on board could hear its hissing, and\nall hid themselves below, lest it should carry them off. This naturally\nmade much impression upon the young Sieur de Brissac, and he doubtless\nwished many times that he had stayed at home. On the other hand, he\nobserved that both M. de Vignan and M. de Prevert took the tale very\ncoolly and that there seemed no reason why he should distrust himself if\nthey did not. Yet he was very glad when, after passing many islands and\nnarrow straits, the river broadened and they found themselves fairly in\nthe St. Lawrence and past the haunted Bay of Chaleurs. They certainly\nheard a roaring and a hissing in the distance, but it may have been the\nwaves on the beach.\n\nBut this was not their last glimpse of the supposed guardians of the St.\nLawrence. As the ship proceeded farther up the beautiful river, they saw\none morning a boat come forth from the woods, bearing three men dressed to\nlook like devils, wrapped in dogs' skins, white and black, their faces\nbesmeared as black as any coals, with horns on their heads more than a\nyard long, and as this boat passed the ship, one of the men made a long\naddress, not looking towards them. Then they all three fell flat in the\nboat, when Indians rowed out to meet them and guided them to a landing.\n\nThen many Indians collected in the woods and began a loud talk which they\ncould hear on board the ships and which lasted half an hour. Then two of\ntheir leaders came towards the shore, holding their hands upward joined\ntogether, and meanwhile carrying their hats under their upper garments and\nshowing great reverence. Looking upward they sometimes cried, \"Jesus,\nJesus,\" or \"Jesus Maria.\" Then the captain asked them whether anything ill\nhad happened, and they said in French, \"Nenni est il bon,\" meaning that it\nwas not good. Then they said that their god Cudraigny had spoken in\nHochelaga (Montreal) and had sent these three men to show to them that\nthere was so much snow and ice in the country that he who went there would\ndie. This made the Frenchmen laugh, saying in reply that their god\nCudraigny was but a fool and a noddy and knew not what he said. \"Tell\nhim,\" said a Frenchman, \"that Christ will defend them from all cold, if\nthey will believe in him.\" The Indians then asked the captain if he had\nspoken with Jesus. He answered No; but that his priests had, and they had\npromised fair weather. Hearing this, they thanked the captain and told the\nother Indians in the woods, who all came rushing out, seeming to be very\nglad. Giving great shouts, they began to sing and dance as they had done\nbefore. They also began to bring to the ships great stores of fish and of\nbread made of millet, casting it into the French boats so thickly that it\nseemed to fall from heaven. Then the Frenchmen went on shore, and the\npeople came clustering about them, bringing children in their arms to be\ntouched, as if to hallow them. Then the captain in return arranged the\nwomen in order and gave them beads made of tin, and other trifles, and\ngave knives to the men. All that night the Indians made great fires and\ndanced and sang along the shore. But when the Frenchmen had finally\nreached the mouth of the Ottawa and had begun to ascend it, under Vignan's\nguidance, they had reasons to remember the threats of the god Cudraigny.\n\nAscending the Ottawa in canoes, past cataracts, boulders, and precipices,\nthey at last, with great labor, reached the island of Allumette, at a\ndistance of two hundred and twenty-five miles. Often it was impossible to\ncarry their canoes past waterfalls, because the forests were so dense, so\nthat they had to drag the boats by ropes, wading among rocks or climbing\nalong precipices. Gradually they left behind them their armor, their\nprovisions, and clothing, keeping only their canoes; they lived on fish\nand wild fowl, and were sometimes twenty-four hours without food.\nChamplain himself carried three French arquebuses or short guns, three\noars, his cloak, and many smaller articles; and was harassed by dense\nclouds of mosquitoes all the time. Vignan, Brissac, and the rest were\nalmost as heavily loaded. The tribe of Indians whom they at last reached\nhad chosen the spot as being inaccessible to their enemies; and thought\nthat the newcomers had fallen from the clouds.\n\nWhen Champlain inquired after the salt sea promised by Vignan, he learned\nto his indignation that the whole tale was false. Vignan had spent a\nwinter at the very village where they were, but confessed that he had\nnever gone a league further north. The Indians knew of no such sea, and\ncraved permission to torture and kill him for his deceptions; they called\nhim loudly a liar, and even the children took up the cry and jeered at\nhim. They said, \"Do you not see that he meant to cause your death? Give\nhim to us, and we promise you that he shall not lie any more.\" Champlain\ndefended him from their attacks, bore it all philosophically, and the\nyoung Brissac went back to France, having given up hope of reaching the\nsalt sea, except, as Champlain himself coolly said, \"in imagination.\" The\nguardians of the St. Lawrence had at least exerted their spell to the\nextent of saying, Thus far and no farther. Vignan never admitted that he\nhad invented the story of the Gougou, and had bribed the Indians who acted\nthe part of devils,--and perhaps he did not,--but it is certain that\nneither the giantess nor the god Cudraigny has ever again been heard from.\n\n\n\nXIX\n\nTHE ISLAND OF DEMONS\n\n\nThose American travellers who linger with delight among the narrow lanes\nand picturesque, overhanging roofs of Honfleur, do not know what a strange\ntragedy took place on a voyage which began in that quaint old port three\ncenturies and a half ago. When, in 1536, the Breton sailor Jacques Cartier\nreturned from his early explorations of the St. Lawrence, which he had\nascended as high as Hochelaga, King Francis I. sent for him at the lofty\nold house known as the House of the Salamander, in a narrow street of the\nquaint town of Lisieux. It now seems incredible that the most powerful\nking in Europe should have dwelt in such a meagre lane, yet the house\nstill stands there as a witness; although a visitor must now brush away\nthe rough, ready-made garments and fishermen's overalls which overhang its\ndoor. Over that stairway, nevertheless, the troubadours, Pierre Ronsard\nand Clement Marot, used to go up and down, humming their lays or touching\ntheir viols; and through that door De Lorge returned in glory, after\nleaping down into the lions' den to rescue his lady's glove. The house\nstill derives its name from the great carved image of a reptile which\nstretches down its outer wall, from garret to cellar, beside the doorway.\n\nIn that house the great king deigned to meet the Breton sailor, who had\nset up along the St. Lawrence a cross bearing the arms of France with the\ninscription _Franciscus Primus, Dei gratia Francorum Rex regnat_; and\nhad followed up the pious act by kidnapping the king Donnacona, and\ncarrying him back to France. This savage potentate was himself brought to\nLisieux to see his French fellow-sovereign; and the jovial king, eagerly\nconvinced, decided to send Cartier forth again, to explore for other\nwonders, and perhaps bring back other kingly brethren. Meanwhile, however,\nas it was getting to be an affair of royalty, he decided to send also a\ngentleman of higher grade than a pilot, and so selected Jean Fran\u00e7ois de\nla Roche, Sieur de Roberval, whom he commissioned as lieutenant and\ngovernor of Canada and Hochelaga. Roberval was a gentleman of credit and\nrenown in Picardy, and was sometimes jocosely called by Francis \"the\nlittle king of Vimeu.\" He was commissioned at Fontainebleau, and proceeded\nto superintend the building of ships at St. Malo.\n\nMarguerite Roberval, his fair-haired and black-eyed niece, was to go with\nhim on the voyage, with other ladies of high birth, and also with the\nwidowed Madame de Noailles, her _gouvernante_. Roberval himself\nremained at St. Malo to superintend the building of the ships, and\nMarguerite and her _gouvernante_ would sit for hours in a beautiful\nnook by the shipyards, where they could overlook the vessels in rapid\nconstruction, or else watch the wondrous swirl of the tide as it swept in\nand out, leaving the harbor bare at low tide, but with eight fathoms of\nwater when the tide was full. The designer of the ships often came, cap in\nhand, to ask or answer questions--one of those frank and manly French\nfishermen and pilots, whom the French novelists describe as \"_un solide\ngaillard_,\" or such as Victor Hugo paints in his \"Les Travailleurs de\nla Mer.\" The son of a notary, Etienne Gosselin was better educated than\nmost of the young noblemen whom Marguerite knew, and only his passion for\nthe sea and for nautical construction had kept him a shipbuilder. No\nwonder that the young Marguerite, who had led the sheltered life of the\nFrench maiden, was attracted by his manly look, his open face, his merry\nblue eyes, and curly hair. There was about her a tinge of romance, which\nmade her heart an easier thing to reach for such a lover than for one\nwithin her own grade; and as the voyage itself was a world of romance, a\nlittle more or less of the romantic was an easy thing to add. Meanwhile\nMadame de Noailles read her breviary and told her beads and took little\nnaps, wholly ignorant of the drama that was beginning its perilous\nunfolding before her. When the Sieur de Roberval returned, the shipbuilder\nbecame a mere shipbuilder again.\n\nThree tall ships sailed from Honfleur on August 22, 1541, and on one of\nthem, _La Grande Hermine_,--so called to distinguish it from a\nsmaller boat of that name, which had previously sailed with Cartier,--were\nthe Sieur de Roberval, his niece, and her _gouvernante_. She also had\nwith her a Huguenot nurse, who had been with her from a child, and cared\nfor her devotedly. Roberval naturally took with him, for future needs, the\nbest shipbuilder of St. Malo, Etienne Gosselin. The voyage was long, and\nthere is reason to think that the Sieur de Roberval was not a good sailor,\nwhile as to the _gouvernante_, she may have been as helpless as the\nseasick chaperon of yachting excursions. Like them, she suffered the most\nimportant events to pass unobserved, and it was not till too late that she\ndiscovered, what more censorious old ladies on board had already seen,\nthat her young charge lingered too often and too long on the quarter-deck\nwhen Etienne Gosselin was planning ships for the uncle. When she found it\nout, she was roused to just indignation; but being, after all, but a\nkindly dowager, with a heart softened by much reading of the interminable\ntales of Madame de Scud\u00e9ry, she only remonstrated with Marguerite, wept\nover her little romance, and threatened to break the sad news to the Sieur\nde Roberval, yet never did so. Other ladies were less considerate; it all\nbroke suddenly upon the angry uncle; the youth was put in irons, and\nthreatened with flogging, and forbidden to approach the quarter-deck\nagain. But love laughs at locksmiths; Gosselin was relieved of his irons\nin a day or two because he could not be spared from his work in designing\nthe forthcoming ship, and as both he and Marguerite were of a tolerably\ndetermined nature, they invoked, through the old nurse, the aid of a\nHuguenot minister on board, who had before sailed with Cartier to take\ncharge of the souls of some Protestant vagabonds on the ship, and who was\nnow making a second trip for the same reason. That night, after dark, he\njoined the lovers in marriage; within twenty-four hours Roberval had heard\nof it, and had vowed a vengeance quick and sure.\n\nThe next morning, under his orders, the vessel lay to under the lee of a\nrocky island, then known to the sailors as l'Isle des Demons from the\nfierce winds that raged round it. There was no house there, no living\nperson, no tradition of any; only rocks, sands, and deep forests. With\ndismay, the ship's company heard that it was the firm purpose of Roberval\nto put the offending bride on shore, giving her only the old nurse for\ncompany, and there to leave her with provisions for three months, trusting\nto some other vessel to take the exiled women away within that time. The\nvery ladies whose love of scandal had first revealed to him the alleged\nfamiliarities, now besought him with many tears to abandon the thought of\na doom so terrible. Vainly Madame de Noailles implored mercy for the young\ngirl from a penalty such as was never imposed in any of Madame de\nScud\u00e9ry's romances; vainly the Huguenot minister and the Catholic\nchaplain, who had fought steadily on questions of doctrine during the\nwhole voyage, now united in appeals for pardon. At least they implored him\nto let the offenders have a man-servant or two with them to protect them\nagainst wild beasts or buccaneers. He utterly refused until, at last\nwearied out, his wild nature yielded to one of those sudden impulses which\nwere wont to sweep over it; and he exclaimed, \"Is it that they need a\nman-servant, then? Let this insolent caitiff, Gosselin, be relieved of his\nirons and sent on shore. Let him be my niece's servant or, since a\nHuguenot marriage is as good as any in the presence of bears and\nbuccaneers, let her call the hound her husband, if she likes. I have done\nwith her; and the race from which she came disowns her forever.\"\n\nThus it was done. Etienne was released from his chains and sent on shore.\nAn arquebus and ammunition were given him; and resisting the impulse to\nsend his first shot through the heart of his tyrant, he landed, and the\nlast glimpse seen of the group as the _Grande Hermine_ sailed away,\nwas the figure of Marguerite sobbing on his shoulder, and of the unhappy\nnurse, now somewhat plethoric, and certainly not the person to be selected\nas a pioneer, sitting upon a rock, weeping profusely. The ship's sails\nfilled, the angry Roberval never looked back on his deserted niece, and\nthe night closed down upon the lonely Isle of Demons, now newly occupied\nby three unexpected settlers, two of whom at least were happy in each\nother.\n\nA few boxes of biscuits, a few bottles of wine, had been put on shore\nwith them, enough to feed them for a few weeks. They had brought flint and\nsteel to strike fire, and some ammunition. The chief penalty of the crime\ndid not lie, after all, in the cold and the starvation and the wild beasts\nand the possible visits of pirates; it lay in the fact that it was the\nIsland of Demons where they were to be left; and in that superstitious age\nthis meant everything that was terrible. For the first few nights of their\nstay, they fancied that they heard superhuman voices in every wind that\nblew, every branch that creaked against another branch; and they heard, at\nany rate, more substantial sounds from the nightly wolves or from the\nbears which ice-floes had floated to that northern isle. They watched\nRoberval sail away, he rejoicing, as the old legend of Thevet says, at\nhaving punished them without soiling his hands with their blood (_ioueux\nde les auior puniz sans se souiller les mains en leurs sang_). They\nbuilt as best they could a hut of boughs and strewed beds of leaves, until\nthey had killed wild beasts enough to prepare their skins. Their store of\nhard bread lasted them but a little while, but there were fruits around\nthem, and there was fresh water near by. \"Yet it was terrible,\" says\nThevet's old narrative, \"to hear the frightful sounds which the evil\nspirits made around them, and how they tried to break down their abode,\nand showed themselves in various forms of frightful animals; yet at last,\nconquered by the constancy and perseverance of these repentant Christians,\nthe tormentors afflicted or disquieted them no more, save that often in\nthe night they heard cries so loud that it seemed as if more than five\nthousand men were assembled together\" (_plus de cent mil homes qui\nfussent ensemble_).\n\nSo passed many months of desolation, and alas! the husband was the first\nto yield. Daily he climbed the rocks to look for vessels; each night he\ndescended sadder and sadder; he waked while the others slept. Feeling that\nit was he who had brought distress upon the rest, he concealed his\ndepression, but it soon was past concealing; he only redoubled his care\nand watching as his wife grew the stronger of the two; and he faded slowly\naway and died. His wife had nothing to sustain her spirits except the\napproach of maternity--she would live for her child. When the child was\nborn and baptized in the name of the Holy Church, though without the\nChurch's full ceremonies, Marguerite felt the strength of motherhood;\nbecame a better huntress, a better provider. A new sorrow came; in the\nsixteenth or seventeenth month of her stay, the old nurse died also, and\nnot long after the baby followed. Marguerite now seemed to herself\ndeserted, even by Heaven itself; she was alone in that northern island\nwithout comradeship; her husband, child, and nurse gone; dependent for\nvery food on the rapidly diminishing supply of ammunition. Her head swam;\nfor months she saw visions almost constantly, which only strenuous prayer\nbanished, and only the acquired habit of the chase enabled her, almost\nmechanically, to secure meat to support life. Fortunately, those especial\nsights and sounds of demons which had haunted her imagination during the\nfirst days and nights on the island, did not recur; but the wild beasts\ngathered round her the more when there was only one gun to alarm them; and\nshe once shot three bears in a day,--one a white bear, of which she\nsecured the skin.\n\nWhat imagination can depict the terrors of those lonely days and still\nlonelier nights? Most persons left as solitary tenants of an island have\ndwelt, like Alexander Selkirk, in regions nearer the tropics, where there\nwas at least a softened air, a fertile soil, and the Southern Cross above\ntheir heads; but to be solitary in a prolonged winter, to be alone with\nthe Northern Lights,--this offered peculiar terrors. To be ice-bound, to\nhear the wolves in their long and dreary howl, to protect the very graves\nof her beloved from being dug up, to watch the floating icebergs, not\nknowing what new and savage visitor might be borne by them to the island,\nwhat a complication of terror was this for Marguerite!\n\nFor two years and five months in all she dwelt upon the Isle of Demons,\nthe last year wholly alone. Then, as she stood upon the shore, some Breton\nfishing-smacks, seeking codfish, came in sight. Making signals with fire\nand calling for aid, she drew them nearer; but she was now dressed in furs\nonly, and seemed to them but one of the fancied demons of the island.\nBeating up slowly and watchfully toward the shore, they came within\nhearing of her voice and she told her dreary tale. At last they took her\nin charge, and bore her back to France with the bearskins she had\nprepared; and taking refuge in the village of Nautron, in a remote\nprovince (Perigord), where she could escape the wrath of Roberval, she\ntold her story to Thevet, the explorer, to the Princess Marguerite of\nNavarre (sister of Francis I.), and to others. Thevet tells it in his\n\"Cosmographie,\" and Marguerite of Navarre in her \"Cent Nouvelles\nNouvelles.\"\n\nShe told Thevet that after the first two months, the demons came to her\nno more, until she was left wholly alone; then they renewed their visits,\nbut not continuously, and she felt less fear. Thevet also records of her\nthis touching confession, that when the time came for her to embark, in\nthe Breton ship, for home, there came over her a strong impulse to refuse\nthe embarkation, but rather to die in that solitary place, as her husband,\nher child, and her servant had already died. This profound touch of human\nnature does more than anything else to confirm the tale as substantially\ntrue. Certain it is that the lonely island which appeared so long on the\nold maps as the Isle of Demons (l'Isola de Demoni) appears differently in\nlater ones as the Lady's Island (l'Isle de la Demoiselle).\n\nThe Princess Marguerite of Navarre, who died in 1549, seems also to have\nknown her namesake at her retreat in Perigord, gives some variations from\nThevet's story, and describes her as having been put on shore with her\nhusband, because of frauds which he had practised on Roberval; nor does\nshe speak of the nurse or of the child. But she gives a similar\ndescription of Marguerite's stay on the island, after his death, and says,\nthat although she lived what might seem a bestial life as to her body, it\nwas a life wholly angelic as regarded her soul (_a\u00eens\u00ee vivant, quant au\ncorps, de vie bestiale, et quant \u00e0 l'esprit, de vie angel\u00eecque_). She\nhad, the princess also says, a mind cheerful and content, in a body\nemaciated and half dead. She was afterwards received with great honor in\nFrance, according to the princess, and was encouraged to establish a\nschool for little children, where she taught reading and writing to the\ndaughters of high-born families. \"And by this honest industry,\" says the\nprincess, \"she supported herself during the remainder of her life, having\nno other wish than to exhort every one to love and confidence towards God,\noffering them as an example, the great pity which he had shown for her.\"\n\n\n\nXX\n\nBIMINI AND THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH\n\n\nWhen Juan Ponce de Leon set forth from Porto Rico, March 13, 1512, to\nseek the island of Bimini and its Fountain of Youth, he was moved by the\nlove of adventure more than by that of juvenility, for he was then but\nabout fifty, a time when a cavalier of his day thought himself but in his\nprime. He looked indeed with perpetual sorrow--as much of it as a Spaniard\nof those days could feel--upon his kinsman Luis Ponce, once a renowned\nwarrior, but on whom age had already, at sixty-five, laid its hand in\nearnest. There was little in this slowly moving veteran to recall one who\nhad shot through the lists at the tournament, and had advanced with his\nshort sword at the bull fight,--who had ruled his vassals, and won the\nlove of high-born women. It was a vain hope of restored youth which had\nbrought Don Luis from Spain to Porto Rico four years before; and, when\nPonce de Leon had subdued that island, his older kinsman was forever\nbeseeching him to carry his flag farther, and not stop till he had reached\nBimini, and sought the Fountain of Youth.\n\n\"For what end,\" he said, \"should you stay here longer and lord it over\nthese miserable natives? Let us go where we can bathe in those enchanted\nwaters and be young once more. I need it, and you will need it ere long.\"\n\n\"How know we,\" said his kinsman, \"that there is any such place?\"\n\n\"All know it,\" said Luis. \"Peter Martyr saith that there is in Bimini a\ncontinual spring of running water of such marvellous virtue that the water\nthereof, being drunk, perhaps with some diet, maketh old men young.\" And\nhe adds that an Indian grievously oppressed with old age, moved with the\nfame of that fountain, and allured through the love of longer life, went\nto an island, near unto the country of Florida, to drink of the desired\nfountain, ... and having well drunk and washed himself for many days with\nthe appointed remedies, by them who kept the bath, he is reported to have\nbrought home a manly strength, and to have used all manly exercises. \"Let\nus therefore go thither,\" he cried, \"and be like him.\"\n\nThey set sail with three brigantines and found without difficulty the\nisland of Bimini among the Lucayos (or Bahamas) islands; but when they\nsearched for the Fountain of Youth they were pointed farther westward to\nFlorida, where there was said to be a river of the same magic powers,\ncalled the Jordan. Touching at many a fair island green with trees, and\noccupied by a gentle population till then undisturbed, it was not strange\nif, nearing the coast of Florida, both Juan Ponce de Leon and his more\nimpatient cousin expected to find the Fountain of Youth.\n\nThey came at last to an inlet which led invitingly up among wooded banks\nand flowery valleys, and here the older knight said, \"Let us disembark\nhere and strike inland. My heart tells me that here at last will be found\nthe Fountain of Youth.\" \"Nonsense,\" said Juan, \"our way lies by water.\"\n\n\"Then leave me here with my men,\" said Luis. He had brought with him five\nservants, mostly veterans, from his own estate in Spain.\n\nA fierce discussion ended in Luis obtaining his wish, and being left for\na fortnight of exploration; his kinsman promising to come for him again at\nthe mouth of the river St. John. The men left on shore were themselves\npast middle age, and the more eager for their quest. They climbed a hill\nand watched the brigantines disappear in the distance; then set up a\ncross, which they had brought with them, and prayed before it bareheaded.\n\nSending the youngest of his men up to the top of a tree, Luis learned\nfrom him that they were on an island, after all, and this cheered him\nmuch, as making it more likely that they should find the Fountain of\nYouth. He saw that the ground was pawed up, as if in a cattle-range and\nthat there was a path leading to huts. Taking this path, they met fifty\nIndian bowmen, who, whether large or not, seemed to them like giants. The\nSpaniards gave them beads and hawk-bells, and each received in return an\narrow, as a token of friendship. The Indians promised them food in the\nmorning, and brought fish, roots, and pure water; and finding them chilly\nfrom the coldness of the night, carried them in their arms to their homes,\nfirst making four or five large fires on the way. At the houses there were\nmany fires, and the Spaniards would have been wholly comfortable, had they\nnot thought it just possible that they were to be offered as a sacrifice.\nStill fearing this, they left their Indian friends after a few days and\ntraversed the country, stopping at every spring or fountain to test its\nquality. Alas! they all grew older and more worn in look, as time went on,\nand farther from the Fountain of Youth.\n\nAfter a time they came upon new tribes of Indians, and as they went\nfarther from the coast these people seemed more and more friendly. They\ntreated the white men as if come from heaven,--brought them food, made\nthem houses, carried every burden for them. Some had bows, and went upon\nthe hills for deer, and brought half a dozen every night for their guests;\nothers killed hares and rabbits by arranging themselves in a circle and\nstriking down the game with billets of wood as it ran from one to another\nthrough the woods. All this game was brought to the visitors to be\nbreathed upon and blessed, and when this had to be done for several\nhundred people it became troublesome. The women also brought wild fruit,\nand would eat nothing till the guests had seen and touched it. If the\nvisitors seemed offended, the natives were terrified, and apparently\nthought that they should die unless they had the favor of these wise and\ngood men. Farther on, people did not come out into the paths to gather\nround them, as the first had done, but stayed meekly in their houses,\nsitting with their faces turned to the wall, and with their property\nheaped in the middle of the room. From these people the travellers\nreceived many valuable skins, and other gifts. Wherever there was a\nfountain, the natives readily showed it, but apparently knew nothing of\nany miraculous gift; yet they themselves were in such fine physical\ncondition, and seemed so young and so active, that it was as if they had\nalready bathed in some magic spring. They had wonderful endurance of heat\nand cold, and such health that, when their bodies were pierced through and\nthrough by arrows, they would recover rapidly from their wounds. These\nthings convinced the Spaniards that, even if the Indians would not\ndisclose the source of all their bodily freshness, it must, at any rate,\nlie somewhere in the neighborhood. Yet a little while, no doubt, and their\nvisitors would reach it.\n\nIt was a strange journey for these gray and careworn men as they passed\nup the defiles and valleys along the St. John's River, beyond the spot\nwhere now spreads the city of Jacksonville, and even up to the woods and\nsprings about Magnolia and Green Cove. Yellow jasmines trailed their\nfestoons above their heads; wild roses grew at their feet; the air was\nfilled with the aromatic odors of pine or sweet bay; the long gray moss\nhung from the live-oak branches; birds and butterflies of wonderful hues\nfluttered around them; and strange lizards crossed their paths, or looked\nwith dull and blinking eyes from the branches. They came, at last, to one\nspring which widened into a natural basin, and which was so deliciously\naromatic that Luis Ponce said, on emerging: \"It is enough. I have bathed\nin the Fountain of Youth, and henceforth I am young.\" His companions tried\nit, and said the same: \"The Fountain of Youth is found.\"\n\nNo time must now be lost in proclaiming the great discovery. They\nobtained a boat from the natives, who wept at parting with the white\nstrangers whom they had so loved. In this boat they proposed to reach the\nmouth of the St. John, meet Juan Ponce de Leon, and carry back the news to\nSpain. But one native, whose wife and children they had cured, and who had\ngrown angry at their refusal to stay longer, went down to the water's edge\nand, sending an arrow from his bow, transfixed Don Luis, so that even his\nforetaste of the Fountain could not save him, and he died ere reaching the\nmouth of the river. If Don Luis ever reached what he sought, it was in\nanother world. But those who have ever bathed in Green Cove Spring, near\nMagnolia, on the St. John's River, will be ready to testify that, had he\nbut stayed there longer, he would have found something to recall his\nvisions of the Fountain of Youth.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\n\nA Full account of the rediscovery of the Canaries in 1341 will be found\nin Major's \"Life of Prince Henry of Portugal\" (London, 1868), p. 138. For\nthe statement as to the lingering belief in the Jacquet Island, see\nWinsor's \"Columbus,\" p. 111. The extract from Cowley is given by Herman\nMelville in his picturesque paper on \"The Encantadas\" (_Putnam's\nMagazine_, III. 319). In Harris's \"Voyages\" (1702) there is a map\ngiving \"Cowley's Inchanted Isl.\" (I. 78), but there is no explanation of\nthe name. The passage quoted by Melville is not to be found in Cowley's\n\"Voyage to Magellanica and Polynesia,\" given by Harris in the same volume,\nand must be taken from Cowley's \"Voyage round the Globe,\" which I have not\nfound in any library.\n\n\nI. ATLANTIS\n\nFor the original narrative of Socrates, see Plato's \"Timaeus\" and\n\"Critias,\" in each of which it is given. For further information see the\nchapter on the Geographical Knowledge of the Ancients by W. H.\nTillinghast, in Winsor's \"Narrative and Critical History of America,\" I.\n15. He mentions (I. 19, note) a map printed at Amsterdam in 1678 by\nKircher, which shows Atlantis as a large island midway between Spain and\nAmerica. Ignatius Donnelly's \"Atlantis, the Antediluvian World\" (N. Y.\n1882), maintains that the evidence for the former existence of such an\nisland is irresistible, and his work has been very widely read, although\nit is not highly esteemed by scholars.\n\n\nII. TALIESSIN\n\nThe Taliessin legend in its late form cannot be traced back beyond the\nend of the sixteenth century, but the account of the transformation is to\nbe found in the \"Book of Taliessin,\" a manuscript of the thirteenth\ncentury, preserved in the Hengwt Collection at Peniarth. The Welsh bard\nhimself is supposed to have flourished in the sixth century. See Alfred\nNutt in \"The Voyage of Bram\" (London, 1897), II. 86. The traditions may be\nfound in Lady Charlotte Guest's translation of the \"Mabinogion,\" 2d ed.,\nLondon, 1877, p. 471. The poems may be found in the original Welsh in\nSkene's \"Four Ancient Books of Wales,\" 2 vols., Edinburgh, 1868; and he\nalso gives a facsimile of the manuscript.\n\n\nIII. CHILDREN OF LIR\n\nThe lovely legend of the children of Lir or Lear forms one of those three\ntales of the old Irish Bards which are known traditionally in Ireland as\n\"The Three Sorrows of Story Telling.\" It has been told in verse by Aubrey\nde Vere (\"The Foray of Queen Meave, and Other Legends,\" London, 1882), by\nJohn Todhunter (\"Three Irish Bardic Tales,\" London, 1896); and also in\nprose by various writers, among whom are Professor Eugene O'Curry, whose\nversion with the Gaelic original was published in \"Atlantis,\" Nos. vii.\nand viii.; Gerald Griffin in \"The Tales of a Jury Room\"; and Dr. Patrick\nWeston Joyce in \"Ancient Celtic Romances\" (London, 1879). The oldest\nmanuscript copy of the tale in Gaelic is one in the British Museum, made\nin 1718; but there are more modern ones in different English and Irish\nlibraries, and the legend itself is of much older origin. Professor\nO'Curry, the highest authority, places its date before the year 1000.\n(\"Lectures on the Manuscript Materials of Irish History,\" p. 319.)\n\n\nIV. USHEEN\n\nIn the original legend, Oisin or Usheen is supposed to have told his tale\nto St. Patrick on his arrival in Ireland; but as the ancient Feni were\nidolaters, the hero bears but little goodwill to the saint. The Celtic\ntext of a late form of the legend (1749) with a version by Brian O'Looney\nwill be found in the transactions of the Ossianic Society for 1856 (Vol.\nIV. p. 227); and still more modern and less literal renderings in P. W.\nJoyce's \"Ancient Celtic Romances\" (London, 1879), p. 385, and in W. B.\nYeats's \"Wanderings of Oisin, and Other Poems\" (London, 1889), p. 1. The\nlast is in verse and is much the best. St. Patrick, who takes part in it,\nregards Niam as \"a demon thing.\" See also the essays entitled \"L'Elys\u00e9e\nTransatlantique,\" by Eugene Beauvois, in the \"Revue de L'Histoire des\nReligions,\" VII. 273 (Paris, 1885), and \"L'Eden Occidental\" (same, VII.\n673). As to Oisin or Usheen's identity with Ossian, see O'Curry's\n\"Lectures on the Manuscript Materials for Ancient Irish History\" (Dublin,\n1861), pp. 209, 300; John Rhys's \"Hibbert Lectures\" (London, 1888), p.\n551. The latter thinks the hero identical with Taliessin, as well as with\nOssian, and says that the word Ossin means \"a little fawn,\" from \"os,\"\n\"cervus.\" (See also O'Curry, p. 304.) O'Looney represents that it was a\nstone which Usheen threw to show his strength, and Joyce follows this\nview; but another writer in the same volume of the Ossianic Society\ntransactions (p. 233) makes it a bag of sand, and Yeats follows this\nversion. It is also to be added that the latter in later editions changes\nthe spelling of his hero's name from Oisin to Usheen.\n\n\nV. BRAN\n\nThe story of Bran and his sister Branwen may be found most fully given in\nLady Charlotte Guest's translation of the \"Mabinogion,\" ed. 1877, pp. 369,\n384. She considers Harlech, whence Bran came, to be a locality on the\nWelsh seacoast still known by that name and called also Branwen's Tower.\nBut Rhys, a much higher authority, thinks that Bran came really from the\nregion of Hades, and therefore from a distant island (\"Arthurian Legend,\"\np. 250, \"Hibbert Lectures,\" pp. 94, 269). The name of \"the Blessed\" came\nfrom the legend of Bran's having introduced Christianity into Ireland, as\nstated in one of the Welsh Triads. He was the father of Caractacus,\ncelebrated for his resistance to the Roman conquest, and carried a\nprisoner to Rome. Another triad speaks of King Arthur as having dug up\nBran's head, for the reason that he wished to hold England by his own\nstrength; whence followed many disasters (Guest, p. 387).\n\nThere were many Welsh legends in regard to Branwen or Bronwen (White\nBosom), and what is supposed to be her grave, with an urn containing her\nashes, may still be seen at a place called \"Ynys Bronwen,\" or \"the islet\nof Bronwen,\" in Anglesea. It was discovered and visited in 1813 (Guest, p.\n389).\n\nThe White Mount in which Bran's head was deposited is supposed to have\nbeen the Tower of London, described by a Welsh poet of the twelfth century\nas \"The White Eminence of London, a place of splendid fame\" (Guest, p.\n392).\n\n\nVI. THE CASTLE OF THE ACTIVE DOOR\n\nThis legend is mainly taken from different parts of Lady Charlotte\nGuest's translation of the \"Mabinogion,\" with some additions and\nmodifications from Rhys's \"Hibbert Lectures\" and \"The Arthurian Legend.\"\n\n\nVIII. MERLIN\n\nIn later years Merlin was known mainly by a series of remarkable\nprophecies which were attributed to him and were often said to be\nfulfilled by actual events in history. Thus one of the many places where\nMerlin's grave was said to be was Drummelzion in Tweeddale, Scotland. On\nthe east side of the churchyard a brook called the Pansayl falls into the\nTweed, and there was this prophecy as to their union:--\n\n  \"When Tweed and Pansayl join at Merlin's grave,\n  Scotland and England shall one monarch have.\"\n\nSir Walter Scott tells us, in his \"Border Minstrelsy,\" that on the day of\nthe coronation of James VI. of Scotland the Tweed accordingly overflowed\nand joined the Pansayl at the prophet's grave. It was also claimed by one\nof the witnesses at the trial of Jeanne d'Arc, that there was a prediction\nby Merlin that France would be saved by a peasant girl from Lorraine.\nThese prophesies have been often reprinted, and have been translated into\ndifferent languages, and there was published in London, in 1641, \"The Life\nof Merlin, surnamed Ambrosius, His Prophesies and Predictions interpreted,\nand their Truth made Good by our English Annals.\" Another book was also\npublished in London, in 1683, called \"Merlin revived in a Discourse of\nProphesies, Predictions, and their Remarkable Accomplishments.\"\n\n\nVIII. LANCELOT\n\nThe main sources of information concerning Lancelot are the \"Morte\nd'Arthur,\" Newell's \"King Arthur and the Table Round,\" and the\npublications of the Early English Text Society. See also Rhys's \"Arthurian\nLegend,\" pp. 127, 147, etc.\n\n\nIX. THE HALF-MAN\n\nThe symbolical legend on which this tale is founded will be found in Lady\nCharlotte Guest's translation of the \"Mabinogion\" (London, 1877), II. p.\n344. It is an almost unique instance, in the imaginative literature of\nthat period, of a direct and avowed allegory. There is often allegory, but\nit is usually contributed by modern interpreters, and would sometimes\ngreatly astound the original fabulists.\n\n\nX. ARTHUR\n\nThe earliest mention of the island of Avalon, or Avilion, in connection\nwith the death of Arthur, is a slight one by the old English chronicler,\nGeoffrey of Monmouth (Book XI. c. 2), and the event is attributed by him\nto the year 542. Wace's French romance was an enlargement of Geoffrey; and\nthe narrative of Layamon (at the close of the twelfth century) an\nexplanation of that of Wace. Layamon's account of the actual death of\nArthur, as quoted in the text, is to be found in the translation, a very\nliteral one, by Madden (Madden's \"Layamon's Brut,\" III. pp. 140-146).\n\nThe earliest description of the island itself is by an anonymous author\nknown as \"Pseudo-Gildas,\" supposed to be a thirteenth-century Breton\nwriter (Meyer's \"Voyage of Bram,\" I. p. 237), and quoted by Archbishop\nUsher in his \"British Ecclesiastical Antiquities\" (1637), p. 273, who thus\ndescribes it in Latin hexameters:--\n\n  \"Cingitur oceano memorabilis insula nullis\n  Desolata bonis: non fur, nec praedo, nec hostis\n  Insidiatur ibi: nec vis, nec bruma nec aestas,\n  Immoderata furit. Pax et concordia, pubes\n  Ver manent aeternum. Nec flos, nec lilia desunt,\n  Nec rosa, nec violae: flores et poma sub un\u00e2\n  Fronde gerit pomus. Habitant sine labe cruoris\n  Semper ibi juvenes cum virgine: nulla senectus,\n  Nulla vis morbi, nullus dolor; omnia plena\n  Laetitiae; nihil hic proprium, communia quaeque.\n\n  Regit virgo locis et rebus praesidet istis,\n  Virginibus stipata suis, pulcherrima pulchris;\n  Nympha decens vultu, generosis patribus orta,\n  Consilio pollens, medicinas nobilis arte.\n  At simul Arthurus regni diadema reliquit,\n  Substitutique sibi regem, se transtulit illic;\n  Anno quingeno quadragenoque secundo\n  Post incarnatum sine patris semine natum.\n  Immodic\u00e8 laesus, Arthurus tendit ad aulam\n  Regis Avallonis; ubi virgo regia vulnus\n  Illius tractans, sanati membra reservat\n  Ipsa sibi: vivuntque simul; si credere fas est.\"\n\nA translation of this passage into rhyming English follows; both of these\nbeing taken from Way's \"Fabliaux\" (London, 1815), II. pp. 233-235.\n\n  \"By the main ocean's wave encompass'd, stands\n  A memorable isle, fill'd with all good:\n  No thief, no spoiler there, no wily foe\n  With stratagem of wasteful war; no rage\n  Of heat intemperate, or of winter's cold;\n  But spring, full blown, with peace and concord reigns:\n  Prime bliss of heart and season, fitliest join'd!\n  Flowers fail not there: the lily and the rose,\n  With many a knot of fragrant violets bound;\n  And, loftier, clustering down the bended boughs,\n  Blossom with fruit combin'd, rich apples hang.\n\n  \"Beneath such mantling shades for ever dwell\n  In virgin innocence and honour pure,\n  Damsels and youths, from age and sickness free,\n  And ignorant of woe, and fraught with joy,\n  In choice community of all things best.\n\n  O'er these, and o'er the welfare of this land,\n  Girt with her maidens, fairest among fair,\n  Reigns a bright virgin sprung from generous sires,\n  In counsel strong, and skill'd in med'cine's lore.\n  Of her (Britannia's diadem consign'd\n  To other brow), for his deep wound and wide\n  Great Arthur sought relief: hither he sped\n  (Nigh two and forty and five hundred years\n  Since came the incarnate Son to save mankind),\n  And in Avallon's princely hall repos'd.\n  His wound the royal damsel search'd; she heal'd;\n  And in this isle still holds him to herself\n  In sweet society,--so fame say true!\"\n\n\nXI. MAELDUIN\n\nThis narrative is taken partly from Nutt's \"Voyage of Bram\" (I. 162) and\npartly from Joyce's \"Ancient Celtic Romances.\" The latter, however, allows\nMaelduin sixty comrades instead of seventeen, which is Nutt's version.\nThere are copies of the original narrative in the Erse language at the\nBritish Museum, and in the library of Trinity College, Dublin. The voyage,\nwhich may have had some reality at its foundation, is supposed to have\ntaken place about the year 700 A.D. It belongs to the class known as\nImrama, or sea-expeditions. Another of these is the voyage of St. Brandan,\nand another is that of \"the sons of O'Corra.\" A poetical translation of\nthis last has been made by T. D. Sullivan of Dublin, and published in his\nvolume of poems. (Joyce, p. xiii.) All these voyages illustrated the wider\nand wider space assigned on the Atlantic ocean to the enchanted islands\nuntil they were finally identified, in some cases, with the continent\nwhich Columbus found.\n\n\nXII. ST. BRANDAN\n\nTHE legend of St. Brandan, which was very well known in the Middle Ages,\nwas probably first written in Latin prose near the end of the eleventh\ncentury, and is preserved in manuscript in many English libraries. An\nEnglish metrical version, written probably about the beginning of the\nfourteenth century, is printed under the editorship of Thomas Wright in\nthe publications of the Percy Society, London, 1844 (XIV.), and it is\nfollowed in the same volume by an English prose version of 1527. A partial\nnarrative in Latin prose, with an English version, may be found in W. J.\nRees's \"Lives of the Cambro-British Saints\" (Llandovery, 1853), pp. 251,\n575. The account of Brandan in the Acta Sanctorum of the Bollandists may\nbe found under May 16, the work being arranged under saints' days. This\naccount excludes the more legendary elements. The best sketch of the\nsupposed island appears in the _Nouvelles Annales des Voyages_ for\n1845 (p. 293), by D'Avezac. Professor O'Curry places the date of the\nalleged voyage or voyages at about the year 560 (\"Lectures on the\nManuscript Materials for Irish History,\" p. 289). Good accounts of the\nlife in the great monasteries of Brandan's period may be found in Digby's\n\"Mores Catholici\" or \"Ages of Faith\"; in Montalembert's \"Monks of the\nWest\" (translation); in Villemarqu\u00e9's \"La Legende Celtique et la Po\u00e9sie\ndes Cloistres en Irlande, en Cambrie et en Bretagne\" (Paris, 1864). The\npoem on St. Brandan, stanzas from which are quoted in the text, is by\nDenis Florence McCarthy, and may be found in the _Dublin University\nMagazine_ (XXXI. p. 89); and there is another poem on the subject--a\nvery foolish burlesque--in the same magazine (LXXXIX. p. 471). Matthew\nArnold's poem with the same title appeared in _Fraser's Magazine_\n(LXII. p. 133), and may be found in the author's collected works in the\nform quoted below.\n\nThe legends of St. Brandan, it will be observed, resemble so much the\ntales of Sindbad the Sailor and others in the \"Arabian Nights\"--which have\nalso the island-whale, the singing birds, and other features--that it is\nimpossible to doubt that some features of tradition were held in common\nwith the Arabs of Spain.\n\nIn later years (the twelfth century), a geographer named Honor\u00e9 d'Autun\ndeclared, in his \"Image of the World,\" that there was in the ocean a\ncertain island agreeable and fertile beyond all others, now unknown to\nmen, once discovered by chance and then lost again, and that this island\nwas the one which Brandan had visited. In several early maps, before the\ntime of Columbus, the Madeira Islands appear as \"The Fortunate Islands of\nSt. Brandan,\" and on the famous globe of Martin Behaim, made in the very\nyear when Columbus sailed, there is a large island much farther west than\nMadeira, and near the equator, with an inscription saying that in the year\n565, St. Brandan arrived at this island and saw many wondrous things,\nreturning to his own land afterwards. Columbus heard this island mentioned\nat Ferro, where men declared that they had seen it in the distance. Later,\nthe chart of Ortelius, in the sixteenth century, carried it to the\nneighborhood of Ireland; then it was carried south again, and was supposed\nall the time to change its place through enchantment, and when Emanuel of\nPortugal, in 1519, renounced all claim to it, he described it as \"The\nHidden Island.\" In 1570 a Portuguese expedition was sent which claimed\nactually to have touched the mysterious island, indeed to have found there\nthe vast impression of a human foot--doubtless of the baptized giant\nMildus--and also a cross nailed to a tree, and three stones laid in a\ntriangle for cooking food. Departing hastily from the island, they left\ntwo sailors behind, but could never find the place again.\n\nAgain and again expeditions were sent out in search of St. Brandan's\nisland, usually from the Canaries--one in 1604 by Acosta, one in 1721 by\nDominguez; and several sketches of the island, as seen from a distance,\nwere published in 1759 by a Franciscan priest in the Canary Islands, named\nViere y Clarijo, including one made by himself on May 3, 1759, about 6\nA.M., in presence of more than forty witnesses. All these sketches depict\nthe island as having its chief length from north to south, and formed of\ntwo unequal hills, the highest of these being at the north, they having\nbetween them a depression covered with trees. The fact that this resembles\nthe general form of Palma, one of the Canary Islands, has led to the\nbelief that it may have been an ocean mirage, reproducing the image of\nthat island, just as the legends themselves reproduce, here and there, the\ntraditions of the \"Arabian Nights.\"\n\nIn a map drawn by the Florentine physician, Toscanelli, which was sent by\nhim to Columbus in 1474 to give his impression of the Asiatic coast,--\nlying, as he supposed, across the Atlantic,--there appears the island of\nSt. Brandan. It is as large as all the Azores or Canary Islands or Cape de\nVerde Islands put together; its southern tip just touches the equator, and\nit lies about half-way between the Cape de Verde Islands and Zipangu or\nJapan, which was then believed to lie on the other side of the Atlantic.\nMr. Winsor also tells us that the apparition of this island \"sometimes\ncame to sailors' eyes\" as late as the last century (Winsor's \"Columbus,\"\n112).\n\nHe also gives a reproduction of Toscanelli's map now lost, as far as can\nbe inferred from descriptions (Winsor, p. 110).\n\nThe following is Matthew Arnold's poem:--\n\nSAINT BRANDAN\n\n  Saint Brandan sails the northern main;\n  The brotherhoods of saints are glad.\n  He greets them once, he sails again;\n  So late!--such storms!--the Saint is mad!\n\n  He heard, across the howling seas,\n  Chime convent-bells on wintry nights;\n  He saw, on spray-swept Hebrides,\n  Twinkle the monastery lights;\n\n  But north, still north, Saint Brandan steer'd--\n  And now no bells, no convents more!\n  The hurtling Polar lights are near'd,\n  The sea without a human shore.\n\n  At last--(it was the Christmas-night;\n  Stars shone after a day of storm)--\n  He sees float past an iceberg white,\n  And on it--Christ!--a living form.\n\n  That furtive mien, that scowling eye,\n  Of hair that red and tufted fell--\n  It is--oh, where shall Brandan fly?--\n  The traitor Judas, out of hell!\n\n  Palsied with terror, Brandan sate;\n  The moon was bright, the iceberg near.\n  He hears a voice sigh humbly: \"Wait!\n  By high permission I am here.\n\n  \"One moment wait, thou holy man!\n  On earth my crime, my death, they knew;\n  My name is under all men's ban--\n  Ah, tell them of my respite, too!\n\n \"Tell them, one blessed Christmas-night--\n  (It was the first after I came,\n  Breathing self-murder, frenzy, spite,\n  To rue my guilt in endless flame)--\n\n  \"I felt, as I in torment lay\n  'Mid the souls plagued by heavenly power,\n  An angel touch my arm and say:\n  _Go hence, and cool thyself an hour!_\n\n  \"'Ah, whence this mercy, Lord?' I said;\n  _The Leper recollect_, said he,\n  _Who ask'd the passers-by for aid,_\n  _In Joppa, and thy charity._\n\n  \"Then I remember'd how I went,\n  In Joppa, through the public street,\n  One morn when the sirocco spent\n  Its storm of dust with burning heat;\n\n  \"And in the street a leper sate,\n  Shivering with fever, naked, old;\n  Sand raked his sores from heel to pate,\n  The hot wind fever'd him five-fold.\n\n  \"He gazed upon me as I pass'd,\n  And murmur'd: _Help me, or I die!_--\n  To the poor wretch my cloak I cast,\n  Saw him look eased, and hurried by.\n\n  \"Oh, Brandan, think what grace divine,\n  What blessing must full goodness shower,\n  When fragment of it small, like mine,\n  Hath such inestimable power!\n\n  \"Well-fed, well-clothed, well-friended, I\n  Did that chance act of good, that one!\n  Then went my way to kill and lie--\n  Forgot my good as soon as done.\n\n  \"That germ of kindness, in the womb\n  Of mercy caught, did not expire;\n  Outlives my guilt, outlives my doom,\n  And friends me in this pit of fire.\n\n  \"Once every year, when carols wake\n  On earth the Christmas-night's repose,\n  Arising from the sinner's lake,\n  I journey to these healing snows.\n\n  \"I stanch with ice my burning breast,\n  With silence balm my whirling brain;\n  O Brandan! to this hour of rest\n  That Joppan leper's ease was pain.\"\n\n  Tears started to Saint Brandan's eyes;\n  He bow'd his head, he breathed a prayer--\n  Then look'd, and lo, the frosty skies!\n  The iceberg, and no Judas there!\n\nThe island of St. Brandan's was sometimes supposed to lie in the Northern\nAtlantic, sometimes farther south. It often appears as the Fortunate Isle\nor Islands, \"Insulae Fortunatae\" or \"Beatae.\"\n\nOn some early maps (1306 to 1471) there is an inlet on the western coast\nof Ireland called \"Lacus Fortunatus,\" which is filled with Fortunate\nIslands to the number of 358 (Humboldt, \"Examen,\" II. p. 159), and in one\nmap of 1471 both these and the supposed St. Brandan's group appear in\ndifferent parts of the ocean under the same name. When the Canary Islands\nwere discovered, they were supposed to be identical with St. Brandan's,\nbut the latter was afterwards supposed to lie southeast of them. After the\ndiscovery of the Azores various expeditions were sent to search for St.\nBrandan's until about 1721. It was last reported as seen in 1759. A full\nbibliography will be found in Winsor's \"Narrative and Critical History,\"\nI. p. 48, and also in Humboldt's \"Examen,\" II. p. 163, and early maps\ncontaining St. Brandan's will be found in Winsor (I. pp. 54, 58). The\nfirst of these is Pizigani's (1387), containing \"Ysolae dictae\nFortunatae,\" and the other that of Ortelius (1587), containing \"S.\nBrandain.\"\n\n\nXIII. HY-BRASAIL\n\n\"The people of Aran, with characteristic enthusiasm, fancy, that at\ncertain periods, they see Hy-Brasail, elevated far to the west in their\nwatery horizon. This has been the universal tradition of the ancient\nIrish, who supposed that a great part of Ireland had been swallowed by the\nsea, and that the sunken part often rose and was seen hanging in the\nhorizon: such was the popular notion. The Hy-Brasail of the Irish is\nevidently a part of the Atlantis of Plato; who, in his 'Timaeus,' says\nthat that island was totally swallowed up by a prodigious earthquake.\"\n(O'Flaherty's \"Discourse on the History and Antiquities of the Southern\nIslands of Aran, lying off the West Coast of Ireland,\" 1824, p. 139.)\n\nThe name appeared first (1351) on the chart called the Medicean\nPortulana, applied to an island off the Azores. In Pizigani's map (1367)\nthere appear three islands of this name, two off the Azores and one off\nIreland. From this time the name appears constantly in maps, and in 1480 a\nman named John Jay went out to discover the island on July 14, and\nreturned unsuccessful on September 18. He called it Barsyle or Brasylle;\nand Pedro d'Ayalo, the Spanish Ambassador, says that such voyages were\nmade for seven years \"according to the fancies of the Genoese, meaning\nSebastian Cabot.\" Humboldt thinks that the wood called Brazil-wood was\nsupposed to have come from it, as it was known before the South American\nBrazil was discovered.\n\nA manuscript history of Ireland, written about 1636, in the Library of\nthe Royal Irish Academy, says that Hy-Brasail was discovered by a Captain\nRich, who saw its harbor but could never reach it. It is mentioned by\nJeremy Taylor (\"Dissuasives from Popery,\" 1667), and the present narrative\nis founded partly on an imaginary one, printed in a pamphlet in London,\n1675, and reprinted in Hardiman's \"Irish Minstrelsy\" (1831), II. p. 369.\nThe French Geographer Royal, M. Tassin, thinks that the island may have\nbeen identical with Porcupine Bank, once above water. In Jeffrey's atlas\n(1776) it appears as \"the imaginary island of O'Brasil.\" \"Brazil Rock\"\nappears on a chart of Purdy, 1834 (Humboldt's \"Examen Critique,\" II. p.\n163). Two rocks always associated with it, Mayda and Green Rock, appear on\nan atlas issued in 1866. See bibliography in Winsor's \"Narrative and\nCritical History,\" I. p. 49, where there are a number of maps depicting it\n(I. pp. 54-57). The name of the island is derived by Celtic scholars from\n_breas_, large, and _i_, island; or, according to O'Brien's\n\"Irish Dictionary,\" its other form of O'Brasile means a large imaginary\nisland (Hardiman's \"Irish Minstrelsy,\" I. p. 369). There are several\nfamilies named Brazil in County Waterford, Ireland (\"Transactions of the\nOssianic Society, Dublin,\" 1854, I. p. 81). The following poem about the\nisland, by Gerald Griffin, will be found in Sparling's \"Irish Minstrelsy\"\n(1888), p. 427:--\n\nHY-BRASAIL, THE ISLE OF THE BLEST\n\n  On the ocean that hollows the rocks where ye dwell\n  A shadowy land has appeared, as they tell;\n  Men thought it a region of sunshine and rest,\n  And they called it Hy-Brasail, the isle of the blest.\n  From year unto year on the ocean's blue rim,\n  The beautiful spectre showed lovely and dim;\n  The golden clouds curtained the deep where it lay,\n  And it looked like an Eden away, far away!\n\n  A peasant who heard of the wonderful tale,\n  In the breeze of the Orient loosened his sail;\n  From Ara, the holy, he turned to the west,\n  For though Ara was holy, Hy-Brasail was blest.\n  He heard not the voices that called from the shore--\n  He heard not the rising wind's menacing roar;\n  Home, kindred, and safety he left on that day,\n  And he sped to Hy-Brasail, away, far away!\n\n  Morn rose on the deep, and that shadowy isle,\n  O'er the faint rim of distance, reflected its smile;\n  Noon burned on the wave, and that shadowy shore\n  Seemed lovelily distant, and faint as before;\n  Lone evening came down on the wanderer's track,\n  And to Ara again he looked timidly back;\n  O far on the verge of the ocean it lay,\n  Yet the isle of the blest was away, far away!\n\n  Rash dreamer, return! O ye winds of the main,\n  Bear him back to his own peaceful Ara again,\n  Rash fool! for a vision of fanciful bliss,\n  To barter thy calm life of labor and peace.\n  The warning of reason was spoken in vain;\n  He never revisited Ara again!\n  Night fell on the deep, amidst tempest and spray,\n  And he died on the waters, away, far away!\n\n\nXIV. ISLAND OF SATAN'S HAND\n\nThe early part of this narrative is founded on Professor O'Curry's\nLectures on the manuscript materials of Irish history; it being another of\nthose \"Imrama\" or narratives of ocean expeditions to which the tale of St.\nBrandan belongs. The original narrative lands the three brothers\nultimately in Spain, and it is a curious fact that most of what we know of\nthe island of Satanaxio or Satanajio--which remained so long on the maps--\nis taken from an Italian narrative of three other brothers, cited by\nFormaleoni, \"Il Pellegrinaccio di tre giovanni,\" by Christoforo Armeno\n(Gaffarel, \"Les Iles Fantastiques,\" p. 91). The coincidence is so peculiar\nthat it offered an irresistible temptation to link the two trios of\nbrothers into one narrative and let the original voyagers do the work of\nexploration. The explanation given by Gaffarel to the tale is the same\nthat I have suggested as possible. He says in \"Iles Fantastiques de\nl'Atlantaque\" (p. 12), \"S'il nous \u00e9tait permis d'aventurer une hypoth\u00e8se,\nnous croirions voluntiers que les navigateurs de l'\u00e9poque rencontr\u00e8rent,\nen s'aventurant dans l'Atlantique, quelques-uns de ces gigantesques\nicebergs, ou montagnes de glace, arrach\u00e9s aux banquises du p\u00f4le nord, et\nentra\u00een\u00e9s au sud par les courants, dont la rencontre, assez fr\u00e9quente,\nest, m\u00eame aujourd'hui, tellement redout\u00e9e par les capitaines. Ces\nicebergs, quand ils se heurtent contre un navire, le coulent \u00e0 pic; et\ncomme ils arrivent \u00e0 l'improviste, escort\u00e9s par d'\u00e9pais brouillards, ils\nparaissent r\u00e9ellement sortir du sein des flots, comme sortait la main de\nSatan, pour pr\u00e9cipiter au fond de l'ab\u00eeme matelots et navires.\" As to the\nname itself there has been much discussion. On the map of Bianco (1436)--\nreproduced in Winsor, I. p. 54--the name \"Ya de Lamansatanaxio\" distinctly\nappears, and this was translated by both Formaleoni and Humboldt as\nmeaning \"the Island of the Hand of Satan.\" D'Avezac was the first to\nsuggest that the reference was to two separate islands, the one named \"De\nla Man\" or \"Danman,\" and the other \"Satanaxio.\" He further suggests--\nfollowed by Gaffarel--that the name of the island may originally have been\nSan Atanagio, thus making its baptism a tribute to St. Athanasius instead\nof to Satan. This would certainly have been a curious transformation, and\nalmost as unexpected in its way as the original conversion of the sinful\nbrothers from outlaws to missionaries.\n\n\nXV. ANTILLIA\n\nThe name Antillia appears first, but not very clearly, on the Pizigani\nmap of 1367; then clearly on a map of 1424, preserved at Weimar, on that\nof Bianco in 1436, and on the globe of Beheim in 1492, which adds in an\ninscription the story of the Seven Bishops. On some maps of the sixteenth\nand seventeenth centuries there appears near it a smaller island under the\nname of Sette Cidade, or Sete Ciudades, which is properly another name for\nthe same island. Toscanelli, in his famous letter to Columbus, recommended\nAntillia as a good way-station for his voyage to India. The island is said\nby tradition to have been re-discovered by a Portuguese sailor in 1447.\nTradition says that this sailor went hastily to the court of Portugal to\nannounce the discovery, but was blamed for not having remained longer, and\nso fled. It was supposed to be \"a large, rectangular island extending from\nnorth to south, lying in the mid Atlantic about lat. 35 N.\" An ample\nbibliography will be found in Winsor's \"Narrative and Critical History,\"\nI. p. 48, with maps containing Antillia, I. pp. 54 (Pizigani's), 56, 58.\n\nAfter the discovery of America, Peter Martyr states (in 1493) that\nHispaniola and the adjacent islands were \"Antillae insulae,\" meaning that\nthey were identical with the group surrounding the fabled Antillia\n(Winsor's \"Narrative and Critical History,\" I. p. 49); and Sch\u00f6ner, in the\ndedicatory letter of his globe of 1523, says that the king of Castile,\nthrough Columbus, has discovered _Antiglias Hispaniam Cubam quoque_.\nIt was thus that the name Antilles came to be applied to the islands\ndiscovered by Columbus; just as the name Brazil was transferred from an\nimaginary island to the new continent, and the name Seven Cities was\napplied to the pueblos of New Mexico by those who discovered them. (See J.\nH. Simpson, \"Coronado's March in Search of the Seven Cities of Cibola,\"\nSmithsonian Institution, 1869, pp. 209-340.)\n\nThe sailor who re-discovered them said that the chief desire of the\npeople was to know whether the Moors still held Spain (Gaffarel, \"Iles\nFantastiques,\" p. 3). In a copy of \"Ptolemy\" addressed to Pope Urban VI.\nabout 1380, before the alleged visit of the Portuguese, it was stated of\nthe people at Antillia that they lived in a Christian manner, and were\nmost prosperous, \"Hie populus christianissime vivit, omnibus divitiis\nseculi hujus plenus\" (D'Avezac, \"Nouvelles Annales des voyages,\" 1845, II.\np. 55).\n\nIt was afterwards held by some that the island of Antillia was identical\nwith St. Michael in the Azores, where a certain cluster of stone huts\nstill bears the name of Seven Cities, and the same name is associated with\na small lake by which they stand. (Humboldt's \"Examen Critique,\" Paris,\n1837, II. p. 203; Gaffarel, \"Iles Fantastiques,\" p. 3.)\n\n\nXVI. HARALD THE VIKING\n\nThe tales of the Norse explorations of America are now accessible in many\nforms, the most convenient of these being in the edition of E. L. Slafter,\npublished by the Prince Society. As to the habits of the Vikings, the most\naccessible authorities are \"The Age of the Vikings,\" by Du Chaillu, and\n\"The Sea Kings of Norway,\" by Laing. The writings of the late Professor E.\nN. Horsford are well known, but his opinions are not yet generally\naccepted by students. His last work, \"Leif's House in Vineland,\" with his\ndaughter's supplementary essay on \"Graves of the Northmen,\" is probably\nthe most interesting of the series (Boston, 1893). In Longfellow's \"Saga\nof King Olaf\" (II.), included in \"Tales of a Wayside Inn,\" there is a\ndescription of the athletic sports practised by the Vikings, which are\nmoreover described with the greatest minuteness by Du Chaillu.\n\n\nXVII. NORUMBEGA\n\nThe narrative of Champlain's effort to find Norumbega in 1632 may be\nfound in Otis's \"Voyages of Champlain\" (II. p. 38), and there is another\nversion in the _Magazine of American History_ (I. p. 321). The whole\nlegend of the city is well analyzed in the same magazine (I. p. 14) by Dr.\nDe Costa under the title \"The Lost City of New England.\" In another volume\nhe recurs to the subject (IX. p. 168), and gives (IX. p. 200) a printed\ncopy of David Ingram's narrative, from the original in the Bodleian\nLibrary. He also discusses the subject in Winsor's \"Narrative and Critical\nHistory\" (IV. p. 77, etc.), where he points out that \"the insular\ncharacter of the Norumbega region is not purely imaginary, but is based on\nthe fact that the Penobscot region affords a continued watercourse to the\nSt. Lawrence, which was travelled by the Maine Indians.\" Ramusio's map of\n1559 represents \"Nurumbega\" as a large island, well defined (Winsor, IV.\np. 91); and so does that of Ruscelli (Winsor, IV. p. 92), the latter\nspelling it \"Nurumberg.\" Some geographers supposed it to extend as far as\nFlorida. The name was also given to a river (probably the Penobscot) and\nto a cape. The following is Longfellow's poem on the voyage of Sir\nHumphrey Gilbert:--\n\nSIR HUMPHREY GILBERT\n\n  Southward with fleet of ice\n    Sailed the corsair Death;\n  Wild and fast blew the blast,\n    And the east-wind was his breath.\n\n  His lordly ships of ice\n    Glisten in the sun;\n\n  On each side, like pennons wide,\n    Flashing crystal streamlets run.\n\n  His sails of white sea-mist\n    Dripped with silver rain;\n  But where he passed there were cast\n    Leaden shadows o'er the main.\n\n  Eastward from Campobello\n    Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed;\n  Three days or more seaward he bore,\n    Then, alas! the land-wind failed.\n\n  Alas! the land-wind failed,\n    And ice-cold grew the night;\n  And nevermore, on sea or shore,\n     Should Sir Humphrey see the light.\n\n  He sat upon the deck,\n    The Book was in his hand;\n  \"Do not fear! Heaven is as near,\"\n    He said, \"by water as by land!\"\n\n  In the first watch of the night,\n    Without a signal's sound,\n  Out of the sea, mysteriously,\n    The fleet of Death rose all around.\n\n  The moon and the evening star\n    Were hanging in the shrouds;\n  Every mast, as it passed,\n    Seemed to rake the passing clouds.\n\n  They grappled with their prize,\n    At midnight black and cold!\n  As of a rock was the shock;\n    Heavily the ground-swell rolled.\n\n  Southward through day and dark,\n    They drift in close embrace,\n  With mist and rain, o'er the open main;\n    Yet there seems no change of place.\n\n  Southward, forever southward,\n    They drift through dark and day;\n  And like a dream, in the Gulf-Stream\n    Sinking, vanish all away.\n\n\nXVIII. GUARDIANS OF THE ST. LAWRENCE\n\nFor authorities for this tale see \"Voyages of Samuel de Champlain,\"\ntranslated by Charles Pomeroy Otis, Ph.D., with memoir by the Rev. E. F.\nSlafter, A.M., Boston, 1880 (I. pp. 116, 289, II. p. 52). The incident of\nthe disguised Indians occurred, however, to the earlier explorer, Jacques\nCartier. (See my \"Larger History of the United States,\" p. 112.)\n\n\nXIX. ISLAND OF DEMONS\n\nThe tale of the Isle of Demons is founded on a story told first by\nMarguerite of Navarre in her \"Heptameron\" (LXVII. Nouvelle), and then\nwith much variation and amplification by the very untrustworthy traveller\nThevet in his \"Cosmographie\" (1571), Livre XXIII. c. vi. The only copy of\nthe latter work known to me is in the Carter-Brown Library at Providence,\nR.I., and the passage has been transcribed for me through the kindness of\nA. E. Winship, Esq., librarian, who has also sent me a photograph of a\nwoodcut representing the lonely woman shooting at a bear. A briefer\nabstract of the story is in Winsor's \"Narrative and Critical History\" (IV.\np. 66, note), but it states, perhaps erroneously, that Thevet knew\nMarguerite only through the Princess of Navarre, whereas that author\nclaims--though his claim is never worth much--that he had the story from\nthe poor woman herself, \"_La pauvre femme estant arriuvee en France ...\net venue en la ville de Nautron, pays de Perigort lors que i'y estois, me\nfeit le discours de toutes ses fortunes pass\u00e9es_.\"\n\nThe Island of Demons appears on many old maps which may be found engraved\nin Winsor, IV. pp. 91, 92, 93, 100, 373, etc.; also as \"Isla de demonios\"\nin Sebastian Cabot's map (1544) reprinted in Dr. S. E. Dawson's valuable\n\"Voyages of the Cabots,\" in the Transactions of the Royal Society of\nCanada for 1897. He also gives Ruysch's map (1508), in which a cluster of\nislands appears in the same place, marked \"Insulae daemonum.\" Harrisse,\nin his \"Notes sur la Nouvelle France\" (p. 278), describes the three\nsufferers as having been abandoned by Roberval _\u00e0 trente six lieues des\nc\u00f4tes de Canada, dans une isle deserte qui fut depuis d\u00e9sign\u00e9e sous le nom\nde l'Isle de la Demoiselle, pres de l'embouchure de la Rivi\u00e8re St. Paul ou\ndes Saumons_. I have not, however, been able to identify this island.\nParkman also says (\"Pioneers of France,\" p. 205) that Roberval's pilot, in\nhis _routier_, or logbook, speaks often of \"Les Isles de la\nDemoiselle,\" evidently referring to Marguerite. The brief account by the\nPrincess of Navarre follows:--\n\nLXVII NOUVELLE\n\nUne pauvre femme, pour sauver la vie de son mary, hasarda la sienne, et\nne l'abandonna jusqu'\u00e0 la mort.\n\nC'est que faisant le diet Robertval un voiage sur la mer, duquel il\nestoit chef par le commandement du Roy son maistre, en l'isle de Canadas;\nauquel lieu avoit d\u00e9lib\u00e9r\u00e9, si l'air du pa\u00efs euste est\u00e9 commode, de\ndemourer et faire villes et chasteaulx; en quoy il fit tel commencement,\nque chacun peut s\u00e7avoir. Et, pour habituer le pays de Chrestiens, mena\navecq luy de toutes sortes d'artisans, entre lesquelz y avoit un homme,\nqui fut si malheureux, qu'il trahit son maistre et le mist en dangier\nd'estre prins des gens du pays. Mais Dieu voulut que son entreprinse fut\nsi tost congneue, qu'elle ne peut nuyre au cappitaine Robertval, lequel\nfeit prendre ce meschant traistre, le voulant pugnir comme il l'avoit\nm\u00e9rit\u00e9; ce qui eust est\u00e9 faict, sans sa femme qui avoit suivy son mary par\nles p\u00e9rilz de la mer; et ne le voulut abandonner \u00e0 la mort, mais avecq\nforce larmes feit tant, avecq le cappitaine et toute la compaignye, que,\ntant pour la piti\u00e9 d'icelle que pour le service qu'elle leur avoit faict,\nluy accorda sa requeste qui fut telle, que le mary et la femme furent\nlaissez en une petite isle, sur la mer, o\u00f9 il n'habitoit que bestes\nsaulvaiges; et leur fut permis de porter avecq eulx ce dont ilz avoient\nn\u00e9cessit\u00e9. Les pauvres gens, se trouvans tous seulz en la compaignye des\nbestes saulvaiges et cruelles, n'eurent recours que \u00e0 Dieu seul, qui avoit\nest\u00e9 toujours le ferme espoir de ceste pauvre femme. Et, comme celle qui\navoit toute consolation en Dieu, porta pour sa saulve garde, nourriture et\nconsolation le Nouveau Testament, lequel elle lisoit incessamment. Et, au\ndemourant, avecq son mary, mettoit peine d'accoustrer un petit logis le\nmieulx qui'l leur estoit possible; et, quand les lyons et aultres bestes\nen aprochoient pour les d\u00e9vorer, le mary avecq sa harquebuze, et elle,\navecq les pierres, se d\u00e9fendoient si bien, que, non suellement les bestes\nne les osoient approcher, mais bien souvent en tu\u00e8rent de tr\u00e8s-bonnes \u00e0\nmanger; ainsy, avecq telles chairs et les herbes du pa\u00efs, vesquirent\nquelque temps, quand le pain leur fut failly. A la longue, le mary ne peut\nporter telle nourriture; et, \u00e0 cause des eaues qu'ilz buvoient, devint si\nenfl\u00e9, que en peu de temps il mourut, n'aiant service ne consolation que\nsa femme, laquelle le servoit de m\u00e9decin et de confesseur; en sorte qu'il\npassa joieusement de ce d\u00e9sert en la c\u00e9leste patrie. Et la pauvre femme,\ndemour\u00e9e seulle, l'enterra le plus profond en terre qu'il fut possible; si\nest-ce que les bestes en eurent incontinent le sentyment, qui vindrent\npour manger la charogne. Mais la pauvre femme, en sa petite\nmaisonnette, de coups de harquebuze d\u00e9fendoit que la chair de son mary\nn'eust tel s\u00e9pulchre. Ainsy vivant, quant au corps, de vie bestiale, et\nquant \u00e0 l'esperit, de vie ang\u00e9licque, passoit son temps en lectures,\ncontemplations, pri\u00e8res et oraisons ayant un esperit joieux et content,\ndedans un corps emmaigry et demy mort. Mais Celluy qui n'abandonne jamais\nles siens, et qui, au d\u00e9sespoir des autres, monstre sa puissance, ne\npermist que la vertu qu'il avoit myse en ceste femme fust ignor\u00e9e des\nhommes, mais voulut qu'elle fust congneue \u00e0 sa gloire; et fiet que, au\nbout de quelque temps, un des navires de ceste arm\u00e9e passant devant ceste\nisle, les gens qui estoient dedans advis\u00e8rent, quelque fum\u00e9e qui leur feit\nsouvenir de ceulx qui y avoient est\u00e9 laissez, et d\u00e9lib\u00e9r\u00e8rent d'aller\nveoir ce que Dieu en avoit faict. La pauvre femme, voiant approcher el\nnavire, se tira au bort de la mer, auquel lieu la trouv\u00e8rent \u00e0 leur\narriv\u00e9e. Et, apr\u00e8s en avoir rendu louange \u00e0 Dieu, les mena en sa pauvre\nmaisonnette, et leur monstra de quoy elle vivoit durant sa demeure; ce que\nleur eust est\u00e9 incroiable, sans la congnoissance qu'ilz avoient que Dieu\nest puissant de nourrir en un d\u00e9sert ses serviteurs, comme au plus grandz\nfestins du monde. Et, ne pouvant demeurer en tel lieu, emmen\u00e8rent la\npauvre femme avecq eulx droict \u00e0 la Rochelle, o\u00f9, apr\u00e8s un navigage, ilz\narriv\u00e8rent. Et quand ilz eurent faict entendre aux habitans la fid\u00e9lit\u00e9 et\npers\u00e9v\u00e9rance de ceste femme, elle fut receue \u00e0 grand honneur de toutes les\nDames, qui voluntiers luy baill\u00e8rent leurs filles pour aprendre \u00e0 lire et\n\u00e0 escripre. Et, \u00e0 cest honneste mestier-l\u00e0, gaigna le surplus de sa vie,\nn'aiant autre d\u00e9s\u00eer que d'exhorter un chaucun \u00e0 l'amour et confiance de\nNostre Seigneur, se proposant pour exemple la grande mis\u00e9ricorde dont il\navoit us\u00e9 envers elle.\n\n\nXX. BIMINI\n\nParkman says expressly that \"Ponce de L\u00e9on found the Island of Bimini,\"\nbut it is generally mentioned as having been imaginary, and is not clearly\nidentified among the three thousand islands and rocks of the Bahamas.\nPeter Martyr placed the Fountain of Youth in Florida, which he may have\neasily supposed to be an island. Some of the features of my description\nare taken from the strange voyage of Cabeza da Vaca, which may be read in\nBuckingham Smith's translation of his narrative (Washington, D.C., 1851),\nor in a more condensed form in Henry Kingsley's \"Tales of Old Travel,\" or\nin my own \"Book of American Explorers\" (N.Y., Longmans, 1894).","title":"Tales of the Enchanted Islands of the Atlantic","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":50871}