Alftruda
“Where have they all gone, little one?” asked the young noble; and Alftruda replied: “We were all out here in the courtyard watching the young men at their exercises, when we heard a crash and a roar, and the cage burst open, and we saw the dreadful Fairy Bear. They all ran, the ladies and knights, but I was the last, and they were so frightened that they shut themselves in and left me outside; and when I beat at the door and prayed them to let me in they would not, and I thought the bear would eat me, till you came.”
“The cowards!” cried Hereward. “And they think themselves worthy of knighthood when they will save their own lives and leave a child in danger! They must be taught a lesson. Martin, come hither and aid me.” When Martin came, the two, with infinite trouble, raised the carcase of the monstrous beast, and placed it just where the bower door, opening, would show it at once. Then Hereward bade Alftruda call to the knights in the bower that all was safe and they could come out, for the bear would not hurt them. He and Martin, listening, heard with great glee the bitter debate within the bower as to who should risk his life to open the door, the many excuses given for refusal, the mischievous fun in Alftruda’s voice as she begged some one to open to her, and, best of all, the cry of horror with which the knight who had ventured to draw the bolt shut the door again on seeing the Fairy Bear waiting to enter. Hereward even carried his trick so far as to thrust the bear heavily against the bower door, making all the people within shriek and implore the protection of the saints. Finally, when he was tired of the jest, he convinced the valiant knights that they might emerge safely from their retirement, and showed how he, a stripling of seventeen, had slain the monster at one blow. From that time Hereward was the darling of the whole castle, petted, praised, beloved by all its inmates, except his jealous rivals.
The foreign knights grew so jealous of the Saxon youth, and so restive under his shafts of sarcastic ridicule, that they planned several times to kill him, and once or twice nearly succeeded. This insecurity, and a feeling that perhaps Earl Siward had some kinship with the Fairy Bear, and would wish to avenge his death, made Hereward decide to quit Gilbert’s castle. The spirit of adventure was strong upon him, the sea seemed to call him; now that he had been acknowledged superior to the other noble youths in Gilbert’s household, the castle no longer afforded a field for his ambition. Accordingly he took a sad leave of Alftruda, an affectionate one of Sir Gilbert, who wished to knight him for his brave deed, and a mocking one of his angry and unsuccessful foes.
Entering into a merchant-ship, he sailed for Cornwall, and there was taken to the court of King Alef, a petty British chief, who, on true patriarchal lines, disposed of his children as he would, and had betrothed his fair daughter to a terrible Pictish giant, breaking off, in order to do it, her troth-plight with Prince Sigtryg of Waterford, son of a Danish king in Ireland. Hereward was ever chivalrous, and little Alftruda had made him feel pitiful to all maidens. Seeing speedily how the princess loathed her new betrothed, a hideous, misshapen wretch, nearly eight feet high, he determined to slay him. With great deliberation he picked a quarrel with the giant, and killed him the next day in fair fight; but King Alef was driven by the threats of the vengeful Pictish tribe to throw Hereward and his man Martin into prison, promising trial and punishment on the morrow.
To the young Saxon’s surprise, the released princess appeared to be as grieved and as revengeful as any follower of the Pictish giant, and she not only advocated prison and death the next day, but herself superintended the tying of the thongs that bound the two strangers. When they were left to their lonely confinement Hereward began to blame the princess for hypocrisy, and to protest the impossibility of a man’s ever knowing what a woman wants. “Who would have thought,” he cried, “that that beautiful maiden loved a giant so hideous as this Pict? Had I known, I would never have fought him, but her eyes said to me, ‘Kill him,’ and I have done so; this is how she rewards me!” “No,” replied Martin, “this is how”; and he cut Hereward’s bonds, laughing silently to himself. “Master, you were so indignant with the lady that you could not make allowances for her. I knew that she must pretend to grieve, for her father’s sake, and when she came to test our bonds I was sure of it, for as she fingered a knot she slipped a knife into my hands, and bade me use it. Now we are free from our bonds, and must try to escape from our prison.”
In vain, however, the master and man ranged round the room in which they were confined; it was a tiny chapel, with walls and doors of great thickness, and violently as Hereward exerted himself, he could make no impression on either walls or door, and, sitting sullenly down on the altar steps, he asked Martin what good was freedom from bonds in a secure prison. “Much, every way,” replied the servant; “at least we die with free hands; and I, for my part, am content to trust that the princess has some good plan, if we will only be ready.” While he was speaking they heard footsteps just outside the door, and the sound of a key being inserted into the lock. Hereward beckoned silently to Martin, and the two stood ready, one at each side of the door, to make a dash for freedom, and Martin was prepared to slay any who should hinder. To their great surprise, the princess entered, accompanied by an old priest bearing a lantern, which he set down on the altar step, and then the princess turned to Hereward, crying, “Pardon me, my deliverer!” The Saxon was still aggrieved and bewildered, and replied: “Do you now say ‘deliverer’? This afternoon it was ‘murderer, villain, cut-throat.’ How shall I know which is your real mind?” The princess almost laughed as she said: “How stupid men are! What could I do but pretend to hate you, since otherwise the Picts would have slain you then and us all afterwards, but I claimed you as my victims, and you have been given to me. How else could I have come here to-night? Now tell me, if I set you free will you swear to carry a message for me?”
Hereward and the Princess
“Whither shall I go, lady, and what shall I say?” asked Hereward. “Take this ring, my ring of betrothal, and go to Prince Sigtryg, son of King Ranald of Waterford. Say to him that I am beset on every side, and beg him to come and claim me as his bride; otherwise I fear I may be forced to marry some man of my father’s choosing, as I was being driven to wed the Pictish giant. From him you have rescued me, and I thank you; but if my betrothed delays his coming it may be too late, for there are other hateful suitors who would make my father bestow my hand upon one of them. Beg him to come with all speed.” “Lady, I will go now,” said Hereward, “if you will set me free from this vault.”
“Go quickly, and safely,” said the princess; “but ere you go you have one duty to fulfil: you must bind me hand and foot, and fling me, with this old priest, on the ground.” “Never,” said Hereward, “will I bind a woman; it were foul disgrace to me for ever.” But Martin only laughed, and the maiden said again: “How stupid men are! I must pretend to have been overpowered by you, or I shall be accused of having freed you, but I will say that I came hither to question you, and you and your man set on me and the priest, bound us, took the key, and so escaped. So shall you be free, and I shall have no blame, and my father no danger; and may Heaven forgive the lie.”
Hereward reluctantly agreed, and, with Martin’s help, bound the two hand and foot and laid them before the altar; then, kissing the maiden’s hand, and swearing loyalty and truth, he turned to depart. But the princess had one question to ask. “Who are you, noble stranger, so gallant and strong? I would fain know for whom to pray.” “I am Hereward Leofricsson, and my father is the Earl of Mercia.” “Are you that Hereward who slew the Fairy Bear? Little wonder is it that you have slain my monster and set me free.” Then master and man left the chapel, after carefully turning the key in the lock. Making their way to the shore, they succeeded in getting a ship to carry them to Ireland, and in course of time reached Waterford.
The Danish kingdom of Waterford was ruled by King Ranald, whose only son, Sigtryg, was about Hereward’s age, and was as noble-looking a youth as the Saxon hero. The king was at a feast, and Hereward, entering the hall with the captain of the vessel, sat down at one of the lower tables; but he was not one of those who can pass unnoticed. The prince saw him, distinguished at once his noble bearing, and asked him to come to the king’s own table. He gladly obeyed, and as he drank to the prince and their goblets touched together he contrived to drop the ring from the Cornish princess into Sigtryg’s cup. The prince saw and recognised it as he drained his cup, and, watching his opportunity, left the hall, and was soon followed by his guest.
Outside in the darkness Sigtryg turned hurriedly to Hereward, saying, “You bring me a message from my betrothed?” “Yes, if you are that Prince Sigtryg to whom the Princess of Cornwall was affianced.” “Was affianced! What do you mean? She is still my lady and my love.” “Yet you leave her there unaided, while her father gives her in marriage to a hideous giant of a Pict, breaking her betrothal, and driving the hapless maiden to despair. What kind of love is yours?” Hereward said nothing yet about his own slaying of the giant, because he wished to test Prince Sigtryg’s sincerity, and he was satisfied, for the prince burst out: “Would to God that I had gone to her before! but my father needed my help against foreign invaders and native rebels. I will go immediately and save my lady or die with her!” “No need of that, for I killed that giant,” said Hereward coolly, and Sigtryg embraced him in joy and they swore blood-brotherhood together. Then he asked: “What message do you bring me, and what means her ring?” The other replied by repeating the Cornish maiden’s words, and urging him to start at once if he would save his betrothed from some other hateful marriage.
The prince went at once to his father, told him the whole story, and obtained a ship and men to journey to Cornwall and rescue the princess; then, with Hereward by his side, he set sail, and soon landed in Cornwall, hoping to obtain his bride peaceably. To his grief he learnt that the princess had just been betrothed to a wild Cornish leader, Haco, and the wedding feast was to be held that very day. Sigtryg was greatly enraged, and sent a troop of forty Danes to King Alef demanding the fulfilment of the troth-plight between himself and his daughter, and threatening vengeance if it were broken. To this threat the king returned no answer, and no Dane came back to tell of their reception.
Hereward and Sigtryg
Sigtryg would have waited till morning, trusting in the honour of the king, but Hereward disguised himself as a minstrel and obtained admission to the bridal feast, where he soon won applause by his beautiful singing. The bridegroom, Haco, in a rapture offered him any boon he liked to ask, but he demanded only a cup of wine from the hands of the bride. When she brought it to him he flung into the empty cup the betrothal ring, the token she had sent to Sigtryg, and said: “I thank thee, lady, and would reward thee for thy gentleness to a wandering minstrel; I give back the cup, richer than before by the kind thoughts of which it bears the token.” The princess looked at him, gazed into the goblet, and saw her ring; then, looking again, she recognised her deliverer and knew that rescue was at hand.
While men feasted Hereward listened and talked, and found out that the forty Danes were prisoners, to be released on the morrow when Haco was sure of his bride, but released useless and miserable, since they would be turned adrift blinded. Haco was taking his lovely bride back to his own land, and Hereward saw that any rescue, to be successful, must be attempted on the march. Yet he knew not the way the bridal company would go, and he lay down to sleep in the hall, hoping that he might hear something more. When all men slept a dark shape came gliding through the hall and touched Hereward on the shoulder; he slept lightly, and awoke at once to recognise the old nurse of the princess. “Come to her now,” the old woman whispered, and Hereward went, though he knew not that the princess was still true to her lover. In her bower, which she was soon to leave, Haco’s sorrowful bride awaited the messenger.
Sadly she smiled on the young Saxon as she said: “I knew your face again in spite of the disguise, but you come too late. Bear my farewell to Sigtryg, and say that my father’s will, not mine, makes me false to my troth-plight.” “Have you not been told, lady, that he is here?” asked Hereward. “Here?” the princess cried. “I have not heard. He loves me still and has not forsaken me?” “No, lady, he is too true a lover for falsehood. He sent forty Danes yesterday to demand you of your father and threaten his wrath if he refused.” “And I knew not of it,” said the princess softly; “yet I had heard that Haco had taken some prisoners, whom he means to blind.” “Those are our messengers, and your future subjects,” said Hereward. “Help me to save them and you. Do you know Haco’s plans?” “Only this, that he will march to-morrow along the river, and where the ravine is darkest and forms the boundary between his kingdom and my father’s the prisoners are to be blinded and released.” “Is it far hence?” “Three miles to the eastward of this hall,” she replied. “We will be there. Have no fear, lady, whatever you may see, but be bold and look for your lover in the fight.” So saying, Hereward kissed the hand of the princess, and passed out of the hall unperceived by any one.
Returning to Sigtryg, the young Saxon told all that he had learnt, and the Danes planned an ambush in the ravine where Haco had decided to blind and set free his captives. All was in readiness, and side by side Hereward and Sigtryg were watching the pathway from their covert, when the sound of horses’ hoofs heard on the rocks reduced them to silence. The bridal procession came in strange array: first the Danish prisoners bound each between two Cornishmen, then Haco and his unhappy bride, and last a great throng of Cornishmen. Hereward had taken command, that Sigtryg might look to the safety of his lady, and his plan was simplicity itself. The Danes were to wait till their comrades, with their guards, had passed through the ravine; then while the leader engaged Haco, and Sigtryg looked to the safety of the princess, the Danes would release the prisoners and slay every Cornishman, and the two parties of Danes, uniting their forces, would restore order to the land and destroy the followers of Haco.
The whole was carried out exactly as Hereward had planned. The Cornishmen, with Danish captives, passed first without attack; next came Haco, riding grim and ferocious beside his silent bride, he exulting in his success, she looking eagerly for any signs of rescue. As they passed Hereward sprang from his shelter, crying, “Upon them, Danes, and set your brethren free!” and himself struck down Haco and smote off his head. There was a short struggle, but soon the rescued Danes were able to aid their deliverers, and the Cornish guards were all slain; the men of King Alef, never very zealous for the cause of Haco, fled, and the Danes were left masters of the field. Sigtryg had in the meantime seen to the safety of the princess, and now placing her between himself and Hereward, he escorted her to the ship, which soon brought them to Waterford and a happy bridal. The Prince and Princess of Waterford always recognised in Hereward their deliverer and best friend, and in their gratitude wished him to dwell with them always; but he knew “how hard a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes,” and would not stay. His roving and daring temper drove him to deeds of arms in other lands, where he won a renown second to none, but he always felt glad in his own heart, even in later days, when unfaithfulness to a woman was the one great sin of his life, that his first feats of arms had been wrought to rescue two maidens from their hapless fate, and that he was rightly known as Hereward the Saxon, the Champion of Women.
In the following Index no attempt is made to indicate the exact pronunciation of foreign names; but in the case of those from the Anglo-Saxon a rough approximation is given, as being often essential to the reading of the metrical versions. In these indications the letters have their ordinary English values; ĕ indicates the very light, obscure sound heard in the indefinite article in such a phrase as “with a rush.”
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W Y Z
A
Abloec. See Anlaf
Achilles. His sulks, 184;
Cuchulain, “the Irish,” 184
Adeon. Son of Eudav; grandson of Caradoc, 49
Age. See Golden Age
Ailill. King of Connaught, husband of Queen Meave; to decide claims to title of Chief Champion, 189;
seeks aid of Fairy People of the Hills, 193
Ailmar. King of Westernesse, 290;
welcomes and adopts Childe Horn, 291;
Princess Rymenhild, daughter of, 292;
dubs Horn knight, 297;
hears of Horn’s first exploit, 299;
Fikenhild betrays Horn and Rymenhild to, 300;
Horn returns to, 304;
reluctantly gives his daughter to Horn, 308;
Horn leaves Rymenhild to his care, 308, 309
Aix-la-Chapelle. Wondrous springs of, 125;
Charlemagne at, 155
Alef. King of Cornwall; Hereward at court of, 343;
casts Hereward into prison, 343;
his daughter releases Hereward, 344, 345;
Sigtryg sends forty Danes to, 348
Alftruda. Ward of Edward the Confessor, 339;
Hereward’s first meeting with, 339;
rescues from Fairy Bear, 340, 341;
Hereward takes farewell of, 342
Alice of Cloudeslee. Wife of William of Cloudeslee, 227;
outlaw husband visits, 227, 228;
rescued from burning house, 232;
thanks Adam Bell and Clym for delivering her husband, 240;
appointed chief woman of bedchamber to the royal children, 246
All-Father. Praised for Beowulf’s victory over Grendel, 18
Alto-bis-ca´r. Song of (a forgery), 120
Anglesey. Same as Mona, 47
Anglo-Saxon Nobility. Hereward the ideal of, 334, 335
Anglo-Saxon Times. Legends regarding Constantine during, 42
Ængus the Ever-Young. Irish people and wrath of, 158
Anlaf. Same as Olaf, or Sihtricson; known to Welsh as Abloec or Habloc; romantic stories concerning, 73
Anseis, Duke of. Mortally wounded, 143
Arabia. Physicians from, with remedies for Constantine’s leprosy, 65
Armagh. Capital of Ulster; Cuchulain and Emer dwell at, 186;
King Conor and heroes return to, 190;
heroes return to, 195
Arnoldin, Sir. Cousin of Athulf; helps to save Rymenhild, 312;
King Ailmar nominates as his heir, 313
Arthur, King. Uncle of Sir Gawayne, 265;
Christmas kept at Carlisle by, 266;
Guenever, queen of, 266;
uncle of Sir Gareth and Sir Mordred, 266;
damsel requests a boon of, 267;
his journey to Tarn Wathelan, and fight with giant, 269;
humiliated by the giant
and released on certain conditions, 270;
his search for the answer to the giant’s question, 270-272;
learns it from the loathly lady, 272;
the ransom paid to giant, 273;
the loathly lady demands a young and handsome knight for husband for helping, 274;
Sir Gawayne offers to pay ransom for, 275;
summons court to hunt in greenwood near Tarn Wathelan, 276;
rebukes Sir Kay, 277;
his joy over his nephew’s wedding with the supposed loathly lady, 284, 285
Arthurian Legend. Preserved by mediæval Wales, 265
Arvon. Fertile land of, searched by ambassadors of Maxen Wledig, 47-49
Asbrand. Brother of Biargey, 113;
helps Howard against Thorbiorn, 115
Aschere (ask-herĕ). One of King Hrothgar’s thanes, carried off by Grendel’s mother, 21
Athelbrus. King Ailmar’s steward, to train Childe Horn to be a knight, 291, 292;
induces Athulf to personate Horn, 293;
sends Horn to Princess Rymenhild, 294;
land of King Modi committed to care of, 313
Athelstan. King of England; kinship of Anlaf with, 73
Athelwold. King of England, father of Goldborough, 80;
his death and burial, 81
Athulf. Horn’s favourite companion, 287;
personates Horn before Rymenhild, 293;
writes to Horn on behalf of Rymenhild, 303;
plans with Horn the rescue of Rymenhild, 308;
his father found at Suddene, 309, 310;
weds Reynild, 313
Aude the Fair. Sister of Oliver, betrothed bride of Roland, 155;
Charlemagne promises his son Louis to, 155;
dies of grief for Roland’s loss, 155
Augustus. Constantine’s elevation to rank of, 64
Awe, Loch. Black Colin, Knight of, 249, 250;
Black Colin dwells at, with wife, 250;
Lady of, 251;
Black Colin far away from, 254;
Black Colin’s return to, 258
B
Babylon, Emir of. Marsile’s vassal; defeated by Charlemagne, 154
Baltic Sea. Forefathers who dwelt on shores of, 1
Banier, Sir. A Knight of the Round Table, 266
Barnesdale. Forest in South Yorkshire, once dwelling-place of Robin Hood, 314, 315;
Sir Richard of the Lea sets out for, to repay loan, 328
Barton, Sir Andrew. Scottish hero, 248
Basques. Attack Charlemagne, 119
Bathstead. Place on shores of Icefirth near where Thorbiorn lived, 97-118
Bean-stan. Father of Breca, 12
Bedivere, Sir. A Knight of the Round Table, 266
Beli. Son of Manogan; Britain conquered by Maxen Wledig from, 48
Bell, Adam. Outlaw leader in forest of Englewood, 226;
declared powerless to deliver William of Cloudeslee, 233;
rescues William from death, 237, 238;
visit to London to see the king, 241;
the king pardons, 243
Beo´wa. Stories of, crystallised in stories of Beowulf, 1
Beo´wulf.
1. The poem of, 1.
2. Thane of Hygelac, King of Geats, 1;
son of Ecgtheow, 6;
nephew of King Hygelac, 6;
grandson of Hrethel, 6;
brought up at Geatish court, 6;
famous swimming match
with Breca, 6;
his mighty hand-grip, 6;
sails for Denmark to attack Grendel, 6;
challenged by Warden of Denmark, 6;
declares his mission to Hrothgar, 10;
disparaged by Hunferth, 12;
honoured by Queen Wealhtheow, 14, 20;
struggles with Grendel, 16;
mortally wounds Grendel, 17;
vows to slay mother of Grendel, 23;
does so, 26;
carries off sword-hilt and Grendel’s head, 26;
sails to Geatland, 29;
welcomed by King Hygelac and Queen Hygd, 29, 30;
chief champion of Hygelac, 30;
refuses the throne in favour of Heardred, and becomes guardian of, 31;
again chosen King of Geatland, 31;
encounters with fire-dragon, 31-39;
recites slaying of Frankish warrior, Daghrefn, 35;
forsaken by Geats in his encounter with the fire-dragon, 36;
slays the dragon, 37;
his death and funeral, 39-41
Berild. Son of King Thurston, 301;
slain by the Saracens, 302
Bernard Brown. Danish magistrate; protects Havelok and Goldborough, 88-89
Ber-na´r-do del Ca´r-pio. Hero in Spanish legend who defeats Roland, 121
Bertram. Earl’s cook who befriended Havelok, 82-83;
marries one of Grim’s daughters and becomes Earl of Cornwall, 94
Biargey. Wife of Howard the Halt, 97;
urges Howard to claim wergild for Olaf, 106, 107,
108;
Howard returns to, 111;
visits her brothers, Valbrand, Thorbrand, and Asbrand, 112, 113;
hails Thorbiorn while out fishing, 112;
urges Howard to seek vengeance, 113, 114
Birkabeyn. Rule of, as king over Denmark, 74;
Swanborow and Elfleda, daughters of, and Havelok, son of, 74;
commits Havelok to care of Jarl Godard, 75;
death and funeral of, 75;
Jarl Ubbe, an old friend of, 87
Black Colin of Loch Awe, 249;
son of Sir Nigel Campbell, 249;
Patterson, name of foster-parents, 250;
messenger tells of new crusade, 250;
decides to go on crusade, 251;
his wife’s grief, 251;
touches at Edinburgh and ships at Leith, en route to Holy Land, 253;
his desire to see Holy Land and Holy Sepulchre, 253;
reaches Rome, 253;
sees Pope, 253;
regards Pope as Vicar of Christ, 253;
journeys to Rhodes, 253;
takes service with Knights of St. John, 253;
a pilgrim at Jerusalem, 253;
letter in name of, forged by Baron MacCorquodale, 255;
falsely reported wounded by Saracens, 255;
hears news of wife’s impending second marriage, 257;
returns home, 258;
welcomed by foster-mother, 259;
disguised as a beggar, hands token to his wife, 262;
recognised and welcomed by his wife, 262
Black Douglas. Scottish hero, 248
Black Monk, The. Captured by Robin Hood’s followers, 330;
high cellarer in Abbey of St. Mary, 331;
Robin Hood confiscates his gold as repayment of loan to Sir Richard of the Lea,
331, 332;
departs from greenwood, 332
Black Sainglain. One of Cuchulain’s magic steeds, 191
Blancandrin. Vassal of King Marsile, 123;
overtaken by Ganelon, 130;
Ganelon and, plot Roland’s destruction, 131
Blaye. Bodies of Roland, Oliver, and Turpin buried in cathedral of,
155
Bluemire. Dwelling-place of Howard the Halt, 97
Bog of Allen. Cathleen’s messenger declared to be sick in, 177
Bors, Sir. A Knight of the Round Table, 266
Bourne, Hall of. Home of Leofric, Earl of Mercia, 336
Brand. Trusted serving-man of Thorbiorn, 97,
102
Breca. Famous swimming champion, beaten by Beowulf, 6;
son of Beanstan, 12
Bricriu of the Bitter Tongue. Compared with Thersites, 186;
invites King Conor and Red Branch heroes to a feast, 186;
stirs up strife among heroes of Ulster, 187, 188;
flatters the wives of the heroes, 189, 190
Brigit.
1. Of the Holy Fire; wrath of, and Irish people, 158.
2. Cathleen’s old servant, 173
Briseis. Achilles and his sulks concerning, 184
Britain. Legend of “The Dream of Maxen Wledig” shows importance of Constantine
to, 42;
ambassadors of Maxen Wledig carried to, 47;
conquered by Maxen Wledig from Beli, son of Manogan, 48;
given by Maxen Wledig to Eudav, 49;
Elene summoned from, is baptized, and seeks the sacred Cross, 54-62;
Constantine sent to, 63;
Constantine proclaimed emperor of, 63
Britons, Early, Greeks of Homer, and Irish Celts, racial affinity
between, 184
Brittany. Roland, prefect of marches of, 120
Bruce, Robert. Scottish hero, 248;
Sir Nigel Campbell, adherent of, 249