Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe E-Book

Walter Scott

• Herausgeber: Luath Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

Ivanhoe follows Wilfred of Ivanhoe, part of one of the few Saxon families at a time when English nobility was dominated by the Normans, who is out of favour with his father for his allegiance to the Norman king, Richard the Lionheart. The gripping storyline beautifully captures the 12th century tensions between Saxons and Normans, Nobility and Commonality and Jews and Gentiles, with a whole host of well-known characters from Robin Hood to Friar Tuck. REVIEWS: A curious exemplification of the power of a single book for good or harm is shown in the effects wrought by Don Quixote and those wrought by Ivanhoe. The first swept the world's admiration for the meiaeval chivalry-silliness out of existence; and the other restored it. MARK TWAIN[Ivanhoe] may have been badly wounded in combat - only to recover and save the day - but he has never been sliced up like this. SCOTLAND ON SUNDAY This is exactly what is needed in order to rescue Sir Walter Scott. ALEXANDER McCALL SMITH. I applaud this new, shorter version of Ivanhoe which makes this wonderful novel, once so popular, accessible to a new generation of readers who will be able to enjoy its classic blend of history and romance. PROFESSOR GRAHAM TULLOCH, Editor of the Edinburgh Edition of the Waverley novels Professor David Purdie's meticulous adaption has made Sir Walter Scott's classic much more accessible to the modern reader... Purdie has managed to conserve Scott's masterly evocation of the 'sights, colours and sounds' of the Middle Ages. EDINBURGH LIFEBACK COVER: Fight on, brave knights. Man dies, but glory lives! A mediaeval tale of political intrigue, tumultuous romance, family machinations and a country's struggle for peace, Ivanhoe is one of Sir Walter Scott's finest historical novels. Banished from his father's court, Wilfred of Ivanhoe returns from Richard Lionheart's Crusades to claim love, justice and glory. Tyrannical Norman knights, indolent Saxon nobles and the usurper Prince John stand in his way. A saga of tournaments and melees, chivalry and love, nobility and merry men, Ivanhoe's own quest soon becomes a battle for the English throne itself... David Purdie's inspired reworking of Ivanhoe's complex characters, romance and high drama is an engrossing page-turner. His armour polished, his sword and dialogue sharp, Ivanhoe re-emerges alive for the modern age.

Leseprobe

SIR WALTER SCOTT, 1st Baronet (15 August 1771–21 September 1832) was a Scottish historical novelist, playwright and poet, born in Edinburgh’s Old Town. Despite the anonymous publication of his first novel,Waverley, Scott became the first English-language author to have a truly international career in his own lifetime, with many contemporary readers in Europe, Australia and North America. His novels and poetry are still well-known, and many of his works includingRob Roy,The Lady of the LakeandThe Heart of Midlothianare regarded as classics of literature. Ivanhoe was Scott’s first novel to be set outwith Scotland, being positioned in late 12th Century England. It was allegedly published in 1819.

DAVID PURDIE was born privately in Prestwick and educated publicly at Ayr Academy and Glasgow University. Now a former medical academic, he devotes what time is left to writing, lecturing and broadcasting. David is Editor-in-Chief ofThe Burns Encyclopaediawhich deals with the life and work of the poet Robert Burns and is Chairman of the Sir Walter Scott Club of Edinburgh. He is in considerable demand as an after-dinner speaker and lecturer, described in this role by theDaily Telegraphas ‘probably our best of the moment.’ He now lives in Edinburgh.

While Prof. Purdie has retained the antiquated writing style used by Scott, he has taken out the swathes of punctuation which extend the novel.

THE DAILY MAIL

Knights getting shorter…[Ivanhoe]has been brought up to date by Professor David Purdie who is president of the Sir Walter Scott Society and should know the ropes.

THE HERALD

WithIvanhoe, Scott first turned men’s minds in the direction of the middle ages.

CARDINAL JOHN HENRY NEWMAN

The village of Ivanhoe(Ivinghoe, they spell it), standing at the base of a knot of smooth bare green hills or knolls among the kindly croft-lands of Buckinghamshire – Hampden’s old property and the scene of Scott’s novel – this and some other things I have gained today.

THOMAS CARLYLE (Letter to Jean Welsh Carlyle)

A curious exemplification of the power of a single book for good or harm is shown in the effects wrought byDon Quixoteand those wrought byIvanhoe. The first swept the world’s admiration for the mediaeval chivalry-silliness out of existence; and the other restored it.

MARK TWAIN,Life on the Mississippi.

I had been present at the conversation which supplied all the materials for one of[Ivanhoe’s]most amusing chapters. I allude to that in which our Saxon terms for animals in the field, and our Norman equivalents for them on the table, are explained and commented on. All this Scott owed to the after-dinner talk, one day in Castle St., of his old friend Mr. William Clerk, who, among other elegant pursuits, has cultivated the science of philology very deeply.

J.G. LOCKHART,Life of Scott, Vol. VI.

I have not time to enumerate all the charming effects of the Opera, but I must not forget the magic property-harp with its whipcord strings, which was played by those accomplished musicians, King Richard and Friar Tuck!

FRANK BURNAND, Editor ofPunch.

Dickens was inspired by the historical novels such asIvanhoepopularised by Sir Walter Scott.Barnaby Rudgewas to be his first serious work of literature and first historical novel; his second and last beingA Tale of Two Cities.

DAVID PERDUE

Sir Walter Scott’s

IVANHOE

Newly adapted for the modern reader by

David W. Purdie

LuathPress Limited

EDINBURGH

www.luath.co.uk

First published 2012

ISBN: 978-1-908373-26-7 PBK

ISBN: 978-1-908373-58-8 HBK

ISBN: 978-1-909912-27-4 EBK

eBook 2013

The author’s right to be identified as author of this book under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 has been asserted.

© David W. Purdie

Read more great eBooks by Luath Press –Kindle Store

Table of Contents

Dramatis Personae Principales

Timeline

Preface

Introduction

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen

chapter fourteen

chapter fifteen

chapter sixteen

chapter seventeen

chapter eighteen

chapter nineteen

chapter twenty

chapter twenty-one

chapter twenty-two

chapter twenty-three

chapter twenty-four

chapter twenty-five

chapter twenty-six

chapter twenty-seven

chapter twenty-eight

chapter twenty-nine

chapter thirty

chapter thirty-one

chapter thirty-two

chapter thirty-three

chapter thirty-four

chapter thirty-five

chapter thirty-six

chapter thirty-seven

chapter thirty-eight

chapter thirty-nine

chapter forty

chapter forty-one

chapter forty-two

chapter forty-three

chapter forty-four

Epilogue

Dramatis Personae Principales

Saxon:

Wilfred of Ivanhoe, Knight. Hereafter ‘Ivanhoe’.

Cedric, called ‘The Saxon’, Thane, father of Ivanhoe and descendant of Hereward the Wake.

Lady Rowena, descendant of King Alfred.

Athelstane of Coningsburgh, Thane, betrothed to Rowena and descendant of King Harold Godwinsson.

Robin Hood, known as ‘Locksley’, outlaw leader.

Tuck, Friar, Clerk of Copmanhurst, outlaw.

Gurth, serf, swineherd to Cedric.

Wamba, serf, jester to Cedric.

Elgitha, lady’s-maid to Rowena.

Jewish:

Isaac of York, financier.

Rebecca of York, daughter of Isaac.

Nathan Ben Samuel, Rabbi, physician.

Norman:

Richard I, calledCoeur de Lion, King of England.

John of Anjou, Prince, brother of King Richard.

Brian de Bois Guilbert, Knight Templar.

Maurice De Bracy, mercenary, knight.

Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, knight.

Aymer of Jorvaulx, Cistercian, Prior.

Lucas Beaumanoir, Grand Master, Knights Templar.

Waldemar Fitzurse, knight, associate of Prince John.

Albert Malvoisin, Preceptor, Knights Templar.

Timeline

1194 The year of the actions described inIvanhoe.

871–899 Reign Of Alfred the Great, King of Wessex and ancestor of the Lady Rowena.

1066 January – October: reign of King Harold Godwinsson, ancestor of Athelstane of Coningsburgh.

1066 Battles of Stamford Bridge and Hastings. The Norman Conquest of England by Duke William of Normandy.

1070-1 Hereward the Wake, Saxon hero and ancestor of Cedric of Rotherwood, holds the Isle of Ely, Cambridgeshire, in defiance of the Normans.

1189 September: King Richard crowned at Westminster Abbey.

1189–1192 The Third Crusade. Hostilities end with a Treaty between King Richard and Saladin.

1190 Massacre of the Jewish community at York.

1194 Release of King Richard by the Holy Roman Emperor.

1199 Death of King Richard, by a crossbow bolt, at the siege of Chaluz, Limousin Region of central France.

1199–1216 Reign of King John.Magna Cartasigned, 1215.

c.1420 First documentary reference to ‘Robyn Hode’.

Preface

The paradox of Walter Scott is that he remains much admired, but little read. The collected works of Scotland’s greatest novelist adorned the bookshelves of our grandparents, the attics of our parents and the pulp mills of today – and that is a pity.

The Edinburgh Edition of the Waverley Novels, issued in 2010 in Scott’s home city and from the press of his old University, is a triumph of scholarship and the definitive edition of his prose. However, the books lie in the bookshops at a price far beyond the average modern reader, let alone in times of austerity.

The general opinion has grown up that Scott, as a novelist, is ‘difficult’. This impression seems to be generated by the fact that he wrote at a time when the printed word was the central means of communication; when attention spans were longer, distractions fewer and the historical novel a brilliant innovation.

Scott is still studied in College and University courses both in the UK and in continental Europe where his seminal contribution to romance literature is secure. However, the non-academic educated reader seems to find him prolix in dialogue, rambling in description, meandering in plot and, well, just too long.

Hence the present abridgement, or redaction, or condensation ofIvanhoe, although the classic Greek term of ἐπιτομή, ourepitome,is perhaps nearer the mark for the present work. As its Greek etymology suggests, an epitome cuts away any extraneous matter, leaving the kernel or marrow of the work intact and open to inspection.

In the present edition, the tremendous, driving storyline ofIvanhoehas been preserved, as have the sights, sounds and smells evoking the Middle Ages. Intact also are Scott’s portrayal of buildings from hut to castle, and his description of the forested countryside of Yorkshire and Leicestershire. Conflicts are central to the plot, as they are in much of Scott’s fiction. They abound inIvanhoe: Norman and Saxon; Monarch and Pretender; Cleric and Layman; Freeman and Outlaw; Jew and Gentile; Master and Serf. The civilian and military conflicts of 12th century England are conserved intact in this work, as are Scott’s characterisations. Many of thedramatis personae, such as Gurth the swineherd, Wamba the jester and Robin the hood, are supplied with a delightful dry and ironic sense of humour. Noble Saxon and dastardly Norman fight it out alternately with sharp words and sharper weapons, while in the intellectual Rebecca of York we are in the presence of perhaps Scott’s finest female portrayal.

In developing the epitome, many descriptive passages have been curtailed to their essentials, paragraphs have been contracted, sentences shortened, double adjectives singled out – and literally thousands of commas consigned to oblivion. The words, however, remain Scott’s. The resultant text runs to some 96,000 words, about the average for a modern novel, whereas the definitive Edinburgh Edition of 1998, superbly edited by Prof. Graham Tulloch of Flinders University in Australia, has rather more.

I am braced for criticism of the very concept of such an abridgement. Whatever the motive, no-one adjusts the text, or the score, or the brushwork of a master and escapes with impunity,scaithlessas Scott himself would say. However, if the present abridgement literally and metaphoricallyepitomisesthis great novel; if it leads modern readers back to the original masterpiece – and indeed to our greatest novelist himself, it will have served its purpose.

David W. R. PurdieMD

Edinburgh, 2012

Introduction

The Author of the Waverley Novels had hitherto proceeded in an unabated course of popularity, and might, in his peculiar district of literature, have been termed‘L’enfant gâté’[The spoiled child] of success. It was plain, however, that frequent publication must finally wear out the public favour, unless some mode could be devised to give an appearance of novelty to subsequent productions. Scottish manners, Scottish dialect, and Scottish characters of note, being those with which the author was most intimately, and familiarly acquainted, were the groundwork upon which he had hitherto relied for giving effect to his narrative.

If the author, who finds himself limited to a particular class of subjects, endeavours to sustain his reputation by striving to add a novelty of attraction to themes of the same character which have been formerly successful under his management, there are manifest reasons why, after a certain point, he is likely to fail. If the mine be not wrought out, the strength and capacity of the minerbecome necessarily exhausted. If he closely imitates the narratives which he has before rendered successful, he is doomed to ‘wonder that they please no more.’ If he struggles to take a different view of the same class of subjects, he speedily discovers that what is obvious, graceful, and natural, has been exhausted; and, in order to obtain the indispensable charm of novelty, he is forced upon caricature, and, to avoid being trite, must become extravagant.

It is not, perhaps, necessary to enumerate so many reasons why the author of the Scottish Novels, as they were then exclusively termed, should be desirous to make an experiment on a subject purely English. It was his purpose, at the same time, to have rendered the experiment as complete as possible, by bringing the intended work before the public as the effort of a new candidate for their favour, in order that no degree of prejudice, whether favourable or the reverse, might attach to it, as a new production of the Author ofWaverley; but this intention was afterwards departed from, for reasons to be hereafter mentioned.

The period of the narrative adopted was the reign of Richard I, not only as abounding with characters whose very names were sure to attract general attention, but as affording a striking contrast betwixt the Saxons, by whom the soil was cultivated, and the Normans, who still reigned in it as conquerors, reluctant to mix with the vanquished, or acknowledge themselves of the same stock.

The idea of this contrast was taken from the ingenious and unfortunate Logan’s tragedy of Runnamede, in which, about the same period of history, the author had seen the Saxon and Norman barons opposed to each other ondifferent sides of the stage. He does not recollect that there was any attempt to contrast the two races in their habits and sentiments; and indeed it was obvious, that history was violated by introducing the Saxons still existing as a high-minded and martial race of nobles.

They did, however, survive as a people, and some of the ancient Saxon families possessed wealth and power, although they were exceptions to the humble condition of the race in general. It seemed to the author that the existence of the two races in the same country, the vanquished distinguished by their plain, homely, blunt manners, and the free spirit infused by their ancient institutions and laws; the victors, by the high spirit of military fame, personal adventure, and whatever could distinguish them as the Flower of Chivalry, might, intermixed with other characters belonging to the same time and country, interest the reader by the contrast, if the author should not fail on his part.

After a considerable part of the work had been finished and printed, the publishers remonstrated strenuously against its appearing as an absolutely anonymous production, and contended that it should have the advantage of being announced as by ‘The Author ofWaverley.’ The author did not make any obstinate opposition.

The name of Ivanhoe was suggested by an old rhyme. All novelists have had occasion to wish with Falstaff, that they knew where a commodity of good names was to be had. On such an occasion the author chanced to call to memory a rhyme recording three names of the manors forfeited by the ancestor of the celebrated Hampden, for striking the Black Prince a blow with his racket, when they quarrelled at tennis:

Tring, Wing, and Ivanhoe,

For striking of a blow,

Hampden did forego,

And glad he could escape so.

The word suited the author’s purpose in two material respects; first, it had an ancient English sound; and secondly, it conveyed no indication whatsoever of the nature of the story.

On the footing of unreserved communication which the author has established with the reader, he may here add the trifling circumstance, that a roll of Norman warriors, occurring in theAuchinleck Manuscript, gave him the formidable name of Front-de-Boeuf.

Ivanhoewas highly successful upon its appearance, and may be said to have procured for its author the freedom of the Rules, since he has ever since been permitted to exercise his powers of fictitious composition in England, as well as Scotland.

The character of the fair Jewess found so much favour in the eyes of some fair readers, that the writer was censured, because, when arranging the fates of the characters of the drama, he had not assigned the hand of Wilfred to Rebecca, rather than the less interesting Rowena. But…if a virtuous and self-denied character is dismissed with temporal wealth, greatness, rank, or the indulgence of such a rashly formed or ill-assorted passion as that of Rebecca for Ivanhoe, the reader will be apt to say, verily Virtue has had its reward. But a glance on the great picture of life will show, that the duties of self-denial, and the sacrifice of passion to principle, are seldom thus remunerated; and that the internal consciousness of their high-minded discharge of duty, produces on their own reflections a more adequate recompense, in the form of that peace which the world cannot give, or take away.

Sir Walter Scott

Abbotsford, 1 September, 1830.

chapter one

Thus communed these; while to their lowly dome,

The full-fed swine return’d with evening home;

Compelled, reluctant, to their several sties,

With din obstreperous and ungrateful cries.

Homer:The Odyssey. Tr. Alexander Pope

In that pleasant district of England watered by the river Don, there extended in ancient times a large forest covering the greater part of the hills and valleys which lie between Sheffield and the town of Doncaster. The remains of this extensive wood are still seen at the noble seats of Wentworth, Warncliffe Park and around Rotherham. Here the fabulous Dragon of Wantley1hunted of yore; here were fought some of the most desperate battles during the Wars of the Roses; and here also flourished, in ancient times, those bands of outlaws still popular in English song.

Such being our chief scene, our story refers to a period mid-way through the reign of King Richard I.2His return from his long captivity in Europe had become an event to be wished rather than hoped for by his subjects, who were meanwhile subjected to every species of oppression. The nobles, whose power had become exorbitant during the reign of King Stephen, but whom Henry II had reduced to subjection, had now resumed their former license. Despising the feeble English Council of State, they fortified their castles, increased the number of their dependants, and reduced all around them to a state of subservience. Each also strove to place himself at the head of sufficient armed forces to make a major figure in the national convulsion which appeared imminent.

The situation of the lesser gentry, or Franklins, who were entitled by the English constitution to remain independent, now became precarious. If they placed themselves under the protection of a noble, they might indeed purchase temporary peace. However, this involved the sacrifice of that independence dear to the English heart and also carried the hazards of whatever expedition their protector might undertake. On the other hand, such was the power of the great Barons, that they never lacked the pretext – and seldom the will – to destroy any who attempted to challenge their authority.

The tyranny of the nobility and the sufferings of the inferior classes arose from the Conquest of AD 1066 by Duke William of Normandy. Four generations had not sufficed to mix the mutually hostile blood of incoming Norman and native Anglo-Saxon. Nor had there yet arisen a common language to unite the races. Power had been placed in the hands of the Norman nobility by the battle of Hastings and was wielded with no moderate hand. The entire race of Saxon princes and nobles had been extirpated or disinherited and there were few who possessed land in the country of their fathers.

The Royal policy had long been to weaken, by every legal or illegal means, any who harboured an antipathy to the victors, all the Norman monarchs showing marked predilection for their Norman subjects. Laws of hunting, together with many others unknown to the freer spirit of the Saxon constitution, had been fixed upon the subjugated, adding further weight to their feudal chains. At Court and in the castles of the great nobles, Norman-French was the only language employed, while in courts of law, pleadings and judgments were delivered in the same tongue. In short, French was the language of honour, of chivalry and even of justice, while the more manly and expressive Anglo-Saxon tongue was abandoned to rustics, shepherds and common townsfolk who knew no other.

However, communication between landowners and the inferior beings by whom that land was cultivated, led to the gradual formation of a compound dialect betwixt French and the Anglo-Saxon. With this, they could render themselves mutually intelligible to each other and from this there arose by degrees, the structure of the English language in which the speech of victor and vanquished has been so happily blended. It has also been enriched and improved by importations from classical Latin, Greek, and the more southern nations of Europe.

This state of things I have thought it necessary to point out, since no great historical events such as civil war or insurrection mark out the separate existence of the Saxons after the reign of William II.3However, great national distinctions remained betwixt them and their Norman conquerors. The recollection of what they had formerly been – and what they were now – continued down to the reign of Edward III.4This kept open the wounds which the Conquest had inflicted and maintained a separation betwixt the descendants of the victor Norman and the vanquished Saxon.

The sun was setting upon one of the rich grassy glades of the Yorkshire forest. Hundreds of broad-headed, short-stemmed, wide-branched oaks, which had witnessed perhaps the march of the Roman legions, flung their gnarled arms over a thick carpet of green sward. In some places they were so closely mingled with beeches, hollies, and other copse wood as to totally obscure the beams of the sinking sun. In others they spread out, forming long sweeping vistas which the imagination considers the paths to yet wilder scenes of sylvan solitude. Here the rays of the sun shot a broken and discoloured light that partially hung upon the shattered boughs and mossy trunks of the trees, illuminating brilliant patches of the turf below.

In the midst of this glade was a considerable open space which might well have been formerly dedicated to Druidical observance.5On the summit of a hillock so regular as to seem artificial, there still remained part of a circle of large and rough unhewn stones. Seven stood upright; the rest had been dislodged from their places, probably by the zeal of some Christian convert, and lay either prostrate by their original site, or on the side of the hill. One large stone had found its way to the bottom where, by stopping the course of a small brook gliding round the foot of the eminence, it produced a feeble murmur from the otherwise silent streamlet.

The human figures which completed this landscape were two in number. They illustrated, in dress and appearance, that wild and rustic character which then belonged to the woodlands of the West Riding of Yorkshire. The elder of these men had a savage and wild aspect. His garment was of the simple, being a close jacket with sleeves, composed of the tanned skin of some animal on which the hair had been left. However it was now so worn off that from the patches remaining it was difficult to determine to what creature the fur had belonged. This primeval vestment reached from the throat to the knees and served all the usual purposes of body-clothing. The opening at the collar was the minimum required to allow the passage of the head, from which it may be inferred that it was put on by slipping it over the head and shoulders in the manner of a modern shirt, or ancienthauberk.6Sandals, bound with thongs of boars’ hide, protected the feet and a roll of thin leather was twined round the legs. This, rising above the calf, left the knees bare like those of a kilted Highlander. To make the jacket sit yet more close to the body, it was gathered at the middle by a broad leathern belt, secured by a brass buckle. To one side of this was attached a sort of scrip,7and to the other a ram’s horn with a mouthpiece for blowing. In the same belt was stuck a long, broad, two-edged knife with a buck’s-horn handle, made in the neighbourhood and bearing, even at this early period, the name of a Sheffield knife. This man had no covering upon his head, which was only defended by his own thick hair. This was matted and twisted together and scorched by the sun into a rusty dark red colour. It thus formed a contrast with the overgrown beard upon his cheeks, which was of a rather yellow or amber hue. One other part of his dress was remarkable; it was a brass ring, resembling a dog’s collar, but without any opening and soldered fast round his neck. It was loose enough to permit him to breathe, yet too tight to be removed without filing. On this singular gorget8was engraved, in Saxon characters:‘Gurth, the son of Beowulf, is the born thrall of Cedric of Rotherwood.’9

Seated on one of the fallen Druidical monuments beside the swineherd, for such was this Gurth’s occupation, was a person about ten years younger in appearance. His dress, though resembling his companion’s in form, was of better materials and of a rather more fantastic appearance. His jacket was stained a bright purple, upon which there were painted grotesque ornaments in different colours. To the jacket he added a short cloak which reached half way down his thigh. It was of soiled crimson cloth and lined with bright yellow. As he could transfer it from one shoulder to the other, or at his pleasure draw it around him, its width, contrasted with its lack of length, formed a remarkable drapery. He had thin silver bracelets upon his arms and on his neck a collar of the same metal bearing the inscription:

‘Wamba, son of Witless, is thrall of Cedric of Rotherwood.’

This personage had the same sort of sandals as his companion, but instead of the roll of leather thong, his legs were encased in a sort of gaiters, of which one was red and the other yellow. He was provided also with a cap, around which were several bells the size of those attached to hawks. These jingled as he turned his head and as he seldom remained a minute in the same posture, the sound was incessant. Around the edge of this cap was a stiffbandeauof leather, cut at the top into open work and resembling a coronet, while a deep bag arose from within it and fell down on one shoulder like the headgear of a modern Hussar. It was to this part of the cap that the bells were attached. The whole ensemble, the shape of his head dress and his own half-crazed, half-cunning expression, marked him out as one of the domestic clowns, or Jesters, maintained in the houses of the wealthy.

Like his companion, he bore a scripattached to his belt, but neither horn nor knife, it being reckoned dangerous to entrust edged weapons to one of his class. In place of these, he was equipped with a sword of lath, resembling that with which Harlequin10operates upon the modern stage.

The outward appearance of these two men formed a strong contrast to their look and demeanour. That of the serf, or bondsman, was sad and sullen. His gaze was upon the ground with an appearance of deep dejection approaching apathy, had not the fire which occasionally sparkled in his eye shown that there lurked a sense of oppression and a disposition to resist. In contrast, the Jester Wamba, as usual with his class, radiated curiosity. There was also a fidgety impatience, together with a degree of self-satisfaction with his situation. The dialogue between them was in the Anglo-Saxon spoken universally, with the exception of Norman nobility, their dependants and soldiers.

‘The curse of St Withold11upon pigs!’ said the swineherd, blowing his horn to call together the scattered members of his herd. These answered his call with notes equally melodious, but made no haste to leave their banquet of beech-mast and acorns. Neither did they forsake the marshy banks of the stream where several lay stretched at ease, half plunged in mud and heedless of the voice of their keeper.

‘St Withold’s curse upon them!’ repeated Gurth, ‘Here, Fangs;Fangs!’ he yelled at the top of his voice to a wolfish-looking dog, half mastiff, half greyhound which ran limping about as if assisting his master. Whether from mistaking the swineherd’s signals or from malice aforethought, the hound only drove them hither and thither, increasing the problem.

‘A devil draw the teeth of him,’ said Gurth, ‘and confound that forest ranger that cuts the foreclaws off our dogs, and makes them unfit for trade! Wamba, up and help me; take a turn round the back of the hill to get upwind of them and drive them here.’

‘Truly,’ said Wamba, without stirring, ‘I have consulted my legs upon this matter. They are altogether of the opinion that to carry my gay garments through these sloughs, would be an act of unfriendship to my wardrobe. Gurth, call off Fangs and leave the herd to their destiny. If they meet with a band of soldiers or outlaws, they will be converted into Normans before morning.’

‘Swine turned into Normans?’ quoth Gurth; ‘What mean ye, Wamba. I be too vexed to read riddles.’

‘Why, how call you those grunting brutes running about?’ demanded Wamba.

‘Swine, fool,swine,’ said the herd.

‘And ‘swine’ is good Saxon,’ said the Jester, ‘but how call you the sow when she is flayed, drawn, quartered and hung up by the heels like a traitor?’

‘Pork!’ said the swineherd.

‘And every fool knows that too,’ said Wamba, ‘but ‘pork’ is good Norman-French. So while the brute lives and is in the charge of a Saxon slave, she goes by her Saxon name; but she becomes a Norman and is called pork when in the Castle-hall to feast among the nobles. What of this, friend Gurth, ha?’

‘It is but true.’

‘Nay, I can tell you more,’ said Wamba, ‘take old alderman ox. He keeps his Saxon name while under serfs and bondsmen such as thou, but becomes beef, a fiery French gallant, when about to be consumed. The calf, too, becomes Monsieur de Veau in the same manner; Saxon when he requires tending, but Norman when he is required eating.’

‘By St Dunstan,’ answered Gurth, ‘these be sad truths. Little is left to us but the air we breathe; and for the sole purpose of setting us to the tasks they lay upon us. The finest and the fattest for their boards; the loveliest for their couches.12Our best and bravest serve Norman masters as soldiers. Their bones whiten in distant lands with few here with the power to protect the Saxon. God’s blessing on our master Cedric who hath done the work of a man in standing in the gap. But Reginald Front-de-Boeuf is coming down to this county in person and we shall see how Cedric’s trouble will little avail him. Here,here!’ he exclaimed, again raising his voice, ‘So ho! Well done, Fangs! Thou hast them all before thee now; bring them on bravely, lad.’

‘Gurth,’ said the Jester, ‘be not so rash. One word from me to Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, or to Philip de Malvoisin, that thou hast spoken out against the Normans, and thou’rt a cast-away swineherd. Thou wouldst swing on one of these trees as a lesson.’

‘Dog, thou wouldst not betray me,’ said Gurth, ‘after leading me on to speak so?’

‘Betray thee? No, that would be the trick of a wise man; a fool cannot half help himself so well! Butsoft, whom have we here?’ he said, as the trampling of several horses was just then becoming audible.

‘Never mind who,’ answered Gurth, who had now got his herd before him, and, with the aid of Fangs, was driving them down one of the long dim vistas.

‘Nay, but I must see the riders,’ answered Wamba; ‘perhaps they are come from Fairyland with a message from King Oberon.’

‘Amurraintake thee,’13rejoined the swineherd; ‘wilt thou talk of such things while a storm rages? Hark at the thunder! The oaks creak to announce a tempest. Let us home; the night will be fearful.’

Wamba seemed to feel the force of this appeal and accompanied Gurth, who began his journey by catching up a long quarter-staff which lay upon the grass beside him. This second Eumaeus14then strode hastily down the forest glade, driving the whole inharmonious herd before him.

Footnotes:

1 An anonymous ballad of this title appears in Thomas Percy’s Reliques of Ancient Poetry (1767)

2 Richard reigned 1189–99, but en route home from Palestine and the Third Crusade, was imprisoned (1192–94) first by Leopold V of Austria and then by Henry VI, the Holy Roman Emperor.

3 William II, ‘Rufus’ from his red hair. Son and successor to the Conqueror. Reigned 1087–1100.

4 Edward III reigned 1327–1377.

5 Druids were a priestly caste among the ancient Britons.

6 A shirt of chain-mail armour.

7 A small bag.

8 A steel or leather collar, designed to protect the throat.

9 A thrall was a serf; effectively a slave.

10 Harlequin was the colourful and comic servant character in mediaeval comedy. He carried a lath i.e. wooden, sword.

11 An obscure Saxon saint invoked against nightmares. He appears as such in King Lear III:Sc.4

12 Many Norman gentry took Saxon brides or concubines after the Conquest.

13 An umbrella term for epidemic infectious disease of livestock. Also the 5th plague unleashed on Egypt: see Exodus 9.3

14 The swineherd of Odysseus. According to Homer, he was the first mortal (his dog was the very first) to recognise him on his return to Ithaca from the Trojan war.

chapter two

A Monk there was, a fayre for the maistrie,

An outrider that loved venerie;

A manly man, to be an Abbot able,

Full many a daintie horse had he in stable:

And whan he rode, men might his bridle hear

Gingeling in a whistling wind as clear,

And eke as loud, as doth the chapell bell,

There as this lord was keeper of the cell.

Geoffrey Chaucer:The Monk’s Tale.

Despite the chiding of his companion and the noise of the horsemen continuing to approach, Wamba could not be prevented from lingering and the riders soon overtook them on the road. Their numbers amounted to ten men, of whom the two who rode foremost were clearly persons of importance, the others being attendants. It was not difficult to ascertain that one of the personages was an ecclesiastic of high rank. His dress was that of a Cistercian monk, but composed of materials much finer than those which the Rule of that Order permitted. His mantle and hood were of the best Flanders cloth, falling in ample, graceful folds around a handsome though somewhat corpulent person. His countenance bore few marks of self denial, though his habit was meant to indicate contempt of worldly splendour. His features might have been called handsome, had there not lurked in his eye the epicurean twinkle of the voluptuary. His profession and position had taught him to have a ready command over his countenance, which he could contract at pleasure into solemnity, although its natural expression was that of good humoured indulgence. In defiance of the Conventual Rule and the edicts of Popes, the sleeves of this dignitary were lined and turned up with rich furs, while his mantle was secured at the throat with a golden clasp.

This worthy churchman rode upon a well fed ambling mule, whose harness was highly decorated and whose bridle was ornamented with silver bells. He showed no monastic awkwardness, but displayed the easy grace of the well trained horseman. Indeed, the mule, well broken to a pleasant amble, was only used by the gallant monk for travelling on the road. A lay brother following in his train had, for his master’s use on other occasions, a most handsome Spanish jennet,1bred in Andalucia. Another lay-brother led a sumpter mule, loaded with his superior’s baggage; two monks of his own Order but of inferior station rode together in the rear, laughing and conversing and taking little notice of the other members of the cavalcade.

The companion of the Church dignitary was a man past forty, tall, slim and muscular. He was an athletic figure upon which long fatigue and constant exercise seemed to have left none of the softer part of the human form. The whole was reduced to brawn, bones, and muscle which had sustained a thousand toils, and were yet ready for a thousand more. His head was covered with a scarlet cap, faced with fur and of the kind which the French callmortierfrom its resemblance to an inverted mortar. His countenance was therefore fully displayed, its expression calculated to impress awe, if not fear. High features, naturally strong and powerfully expressive, had been burnt almost black by exposure to the tropical sun. The projection of forehead veins and the readiness of the upper lip and black moustache to quiver, intimated that a tempest might be easily awakened. His keen, piercing dark eyes told of difficulties subdued and dangers dared. They seemed to challenge opposition for the pleasure of sweeping it from his road. A deep scar on his brow gave additional sternness to his countenance and a sinister expression to one of his eyes clearly injured on the same occasion.

The upper dress of this personage resembled that of his companion in shape, being a long monastic mantle, but its scarlet colour showed that he belonged to none of the four regular Orders of monks.2On the right shoulder of the mantle there was cut, in white cloth, a cross of peculiar form. This upper robe concealed what at first seemed inconsistent with monastic dress, namely a shirt of linked-mail armour with sleeves and gloves of the same. The fore-part of his thighs, where the folds of his mantle revealed them, were also covered with linked mail; the knees and feet were defended by splints – thin plates of steel, ingeniously jointed. Mail hose, or stockings, reached from ankle to knee and, by effectually protecting the legs, completed the rider’s defensive armour. In his girdle was a long and double edged dagger, the only offensive weapon upon his person.

He rode a strong hackney to save his warhorse which a squire led behind. It was fully accoutered for battle, with achamfrain.3On one side of the saddle hung a short battleaxe, inlaid with Damascene carving, while on the other was the rider’s plumed head-piece and hood of mail, with a long two-handed sword. A second squire held, vertically, his master’s lance, from the tip of which fluttered a smallbanderolestreamer, bearing a cross of the same form as that on his cloak. He also carried a small triangular shield, broad enough at the top to protect the breast and from thence diminishing to a point. It was covered with a scarlet cloth, which obscured its heraldry. His two squires were followed by two attendants whose dark complexions and white turbans showed them to be of the Orient.

The whole appearance of this warrior and his retinue was fearful. The dress of his squires was gorgeous and his Eastern attendants wore silver collars round their throats and bracelets of the same metal upon their swarthy arms and legs. Silk and embroidery distinguished their dress, marking the wealth and importance of their master, while forming a striking contrast with the martial simplicity of his own attire. They were armed with curved sabres whose hilts and baldrics4were inlaid with gold and were matched with Turkish daggers of costly workmanship. Each bore at his saddlebow a bundle of darts or javelins about four feet in length and having sharp steel heads; a weapon much in use among the Saracens in action and in the martial exercise ofEl Jerrid.5The steeds of these attendants appeared as foreign as their riders. They were of Saracen origin and consequently of Arabian descent with fine slender limbs, small fetlocks and an easy springy motion. They formed a marked contrast with the large-jointed, heavy horses cultivated in Flanders and Normandy for bearing men-at-arms with all their panoply of plate and mail.

The singular appearance of this cavalcade attracted not only the curiosity of Wamba, but also excited that of his companion. The monk he instantly knew to be the Prior of Jorvaulx Abbey, well known as a lover of hunting, banqueting and, if rumour was correct, of certain other worldly pleasures even more inconsistent with his monastic vows.

Yet so loose were the times respecting the conduct of the clergy thatPrior Aymer maintained a fair character in the neighbourhood of his abbey. His jovial temper and the readiness with which he granted absolution from ordinary sins, rendered him a favourite among the nobility and gentry, to several of whom this distinguished Norman was allied by birth. Ladies in particular did not scan too closely the morals of such an admirer of their sex and who could dispel theennuiapt to intrude upon the halls and bowers of a feudal castle. The Prior also mingled in field sports and possessed the best hawks and the fleetest greyhounds in the North Riding. This strongly recommended him to the youthful gentry, while with their older brethren he had another part to play which he could sustain with decorum. This was his knowledge which, however superficial, drew respect for his supposed learning from the ignorant. Equally, his gravity of deportment and language of Church authority impressed with his apparent sanctity.

Even the common people indulged the follies of Prior Aymer. He was generous; and charity, as always, covered a multitude of sins in senses other than those described in Scripture. The revenues of the monastery, of which a large part was at his disposal, met his own considerable expenses. They also afforded the donations with which he frequently relieved the distress among the peasantry.

And so, if Prior Aymer rode hard in the chase, sat long at the banquet, or was seen at the peep of dawn returning to the abbey after arendezvouswhich had occupied the hours of darkness, men only shrugged. They reconciled themselves to his irregularities by recollecting that the same were practised by many of his brethren with no redeeming qualities to balance them. Prior Aymer and his character were well known to the two Saxon serfs, who made a crude obeisance, and received his ‘Benedicite, mes filz,’6in return.

Gurth and Wamba, astonished at the half monastic, half military appearance of the swarthy stranger and the arms of his Eastern attendants, could scare attend to a question from the Prior. He demanded to know if they knew of any place of harbourage in the vicinity, but the Norman language of both benediction and enquiry was barely intelligible to Saxon ears.

‘I asked you, my children,’ said the Prior, raising his voice, and switching to thelingua franca, or mixed language, in which Norman and Saxon conversed with each other, ‘if there be in this neighbourhood the mansion of any good man who, for the love of God and devotion to Mother Church, will give two of her humble servants a night’s hospitality and refreshment?’

This he spoke with a tone of conscious importance, in strong contrast to the modest terms employed.

‘Twohumbleservants of Mother Church!’ repeated Wamba to himself, taking care, Jester though he was, not to make his observation audible.

‘If the reverend fathers,’ he said, ‘love good cheer and lodging, a few miles of riding would carry them to the Priory of Brinxworth where their rank would secure a most honourable reception. Or, if they preferred a penitential evening, they might turn down yonder glade to the hermitage of Copmanhurst where there is a pious anchorite7who would share the shelter of his roof and the benefit of his prayers.’

The Prior shook his head at both proposals.

‘Mine honest friend,’ said he, ‘if the jangling of thy bells had not dizzied thine understanding, thou might recall thatClericus clericum non decimat, which is to say we churchmen do not exhaust each other’s hospitality. We rather require that of the laity, thus giving them an opportunity to serve God in honouring and servicing His own appointed servants.’

‘I had thought,’ replied Wamba, ‘that the charity of Mother Church and her servants might be said to begin at home?’

‘A truce to thine insolence, fellow,’ said the armed rider, breaking in with a stern voice. ‘Tell us the road to… how named you that Franklin, Aymer?’

‘Cedric,’ answered the Prior; ‘Cedric the Saxon. Tell me fellow, are we near his dwelling and can you show us the road?’

‘That road will not be easy to find,’ answered Gurth, breaking silence for the first time, ‘and the family of Cedric retires early.’

‘Tush, fellow,’ said the soldier, ‘’tis easy for them to arise and meet the needs of such as we, who do not stoop to ask hospitality; we command it.’

‘I know not,’ said Gurth, sullenly, ‘if I should show the way to my master’s house to those who demand what most would request.’

‘Do youdisputewith me, slave?’ said the soldier. Setting spurs to his horse, he had him make ademivolte8across the path and raising his riding rod at this peasant insolence. Gurth darted a scowl and laid a hand on his knife. Violence however, was prevented by Prior Aymer, who pushed his mule betwixt his companion and the swineherd.

‘Nay brother Brian, you are not in Palestine now and dealing with heathen Turks and Saracens. We islanders love only the blows of Holy Church, who ‘chasteneth whom she loveth.’9Show me, good fellow,’ said he to Wamba, accompanying his words with a piece of silver coin, ‘the way to Cedric the Saxon. You cannot be ignorant of it – and it is your duty to direct a wanderer.’

‘In truth, venerable father,’ answered the Jester, ‘the Saracen head of your companion has frightened me out of mine. I am not sure I shall get myself there tonight.’

‘Tush,’ said the Abbot, ‘thou canst tell if thou wilt. This reverend brother has been fighting the Saracens for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. He is of the order of Knights Templars, of whom you may have heard; he is half-monk, half-soldier.’10

‘If he is buthalfa monk,’ said the Jester, ‘he should not bewhollyunreasonable with those whom he meets upon the road.’

‘I will forgive thy wit,’ replied the Abbot, ‘when shown the way to Cedric’s mansion.’

‘Well, then,’ answered Wamba, ‘your reverences must hold this path till you come to a sunken cross, of which scarce a cubit’s length remains above ground. Then take the path to the left, for there are four which meet at Sunken Cross, and I trust your reverences will obtain shelter before the storm comes on.’

The cavalcade, setting spurs to their horses, rode on as men do when wishing to reach a harbourage before a storm. As their horses’ hooves died away, Gurth said to his companion,

‘If they follow thy direction, those reverend fathers will not reach Rotherwood this night.’

‘No,’ said the Jester, grinning, ‘but they may reach Sheffield – and that is as fit a place for them. No woodsman shows a dog where the deer lie.’

‘Thou art right,’ said Gurth; ‘it were bad that Aymer might set eyes on the Lady Rowena. And it were worse for Cedric to quarrel, as ismostlikely, with that military monk. But like good servants, let us hear, see – and say nothing.’

The riders, having left the bondsmen far behind them, resumed their conversation in Norman-French.

‘What mean these fellows by their insolence?’ said the Templar to the Cistercian, ‘and why did you prevent me from chastising it?’

‘Gently, brother Brian,’ replied the Prior, ‘one of them was just a fool speaking folly. The other churl was one of those intractables among the Saxons. Their pleasure is to demonstrate, by any means, their aversion to their conquerors.’

‘I would soon have beaten him into courtesy,’ observed Brian. ‘I am accustomed to deal with such. Marry, sir, you must beware of the dagger. They will use it, given opportunity.’

‘Ay, but,’ answered Prior Aymer, ‘every land has its own manners and fashions. Besides, beating that fellow would procure us no information on the road to Cedric’s house and would have established a feud betwixt he and thee. Remember what I told you: this Franklin is wealthy, proud and irritable. He stands up to our nobility and to his neighbours, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf and Philip Malvoisin, who are no babes to contest with. He also stands up for Saxon privileges, being descended from Hereward,11a champion of their Heptarchy.12He is generally known as Cedric the Saxon and makes boast of belonging to that people, while many others now endeavour tohidetheir descent.’

‘Now, Aymer,’ said the Templar, ‘you are a man of gallantry and expert as a troubadour in the arts of love. But I shall require much beauty in this Cedric’s daughter Rowena to balance him as a seditious churl.’

‘Cedric is not her father,’ replied the Prior, ‘only a remote relation. She is descended from higher blood and he is but her guardian. However, she is as dear to him as if she were his own child. Of her beauty you shall judge. If she does not chase from your memory the black-tressed girls of Palestine or thehouris13of old Mahound’s Paradise, I am no true son of the Church.’

‘Should her beauty,’ said the Templar, ‘be weighed in the balance and found wanting, you will recall our wager?’

‘Indeed. My gold collar,’ answered the Prior, ‘against ten butts of Chian wine. They are mine as surely as if they were already with my cellarer.’

‘And I am to be the judge,’ said the Templar, ‘I am only to admit that I have seen no maiden so beautiful since Pentecost was a twelvemonth. Prior, I will wear your collar over my gorget14in the lists at Ashby-de-la-Zouche!’

‘Win it fairly,’ said the Prior, ‘and wear it as ye will. I trust your word as knight and churchman. Yet, brother, take advice. File your tongue to more courtesy than when dealing with infidels andEasternbondsmen. Saxon Cedric is not slow in taking offence. Offended, he would clear us from his house without respect to your knighthood or the sanctity of either of us. He would send us out to lodge with the larks, though the hour were midnight. And be careful how you look at Rowena. If he takes the least alarm in that quarter we are lost men. He banished his only son Wilfred for lifting his eyes towards this beauty.’

‘You have said enough,’ answered the Templar. ‘I will put on the needful restraint.’

‘We must not let it go so far,’ answered the Prior, ‘But look, here is the clown’s sunken cross and the night so dark that we can hardly see which of the roads we are to follow. He bade us turn, I think to the left.’

‘To the right,’ said Brian, ‘to the best of my remembrance.’

‘To the left, certainly, the left. I remember his pointing with his wooden sword.’

‘Ay, but he held his sword in his left hand, and pointedacrosshis body with it,’ said the Templar.

Each maintained his opinion. The attendants were consulted but none had been near enough to hear Wamba’s directions. At length Brian noticed something previously missed in the twilight.

‘Hugo, there is someone lying either asleep or dead at the foot of that cross; stir him with the butt of thy lance.’ This was done, whereupon the figure arose, exclaiming in good French,

‘Whoever thou be, it is discourteous to disturb.’

‘We did but wish to ask you,’ said the Prior, ‘the road to Rotherwood, the abode of Cedric called the Saxon.’

‘I myself am bound there,’ replied the stranger; ‘and if I had a horse I would be your guide.’

‘Thou shalt have both our thanks,’ said the Prior, ‘if thou bring us to Cedric’s in safety.’

He had one of his attendants giving his horse to the stranger, now their guide. Their conductor pursued a track opposite to that down which Wamba had tried to mislead them. The path soon led deeper into the woodland and crossed more than one brook, the stranger seeming to know by instinct the soundest ground and safest points of passage. He brought the party safely into a wider avenue than any they had yet seen and pointing to a large, low irregular building at its end. He said to the Prior,

‘Yonder is the Rotherwood of Cedric the Saxon.’

This was a welcome intimation to Aymer who had suffered such alarm in passing through the dangerous bogs, that he had not asked his new guide a single question. His curiosity rising, he demanded of the guide who and what he was.

‘A Palmer, just returned from the Holy Land.’15was the answer.

‘Better to have tarried there to fight for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre,’ said the Templar.

‘True, Reverend Sir Knight,’ answered the Palmer, to whom the appearance of a Templar seemed familiar. ‘But when such as you who are underoathto recover the holy city, are so far from it, can you wonder that the task is not for a peaceful peasant like me?’ The Templar would have made an angry retort but was interrupted by the Prior expressing his astonishment that their guide, after such long absence, should be so perfectly acquainted with the passes of the forest.

‘I was born a native of these parts,’ answered their guide.

As he made this reply, they were arriving before the mansion of Cedric.