Who has not heard of the Seven Champions of Christendom--of the
wonderful adventures they went through--of the dangers they encountered,
and the heroic deeds they performed? Should any persons exist ignorant
of the history of those noble knights, let them with attentive ears now
listen to my veracious chronicle.
Gallant and dauntless as were all those seven heroes, yet not one
equalled in valour "Saint George of Merrie England." Many countries
have in consequence claimed him as their own especial Champion.
Portugal, Germany, Greece, and Russia, for what is known to the
contrary, would be glad to have him; but we have proof undoubted that to
England he alone belongs, even if we did not see him, on many a golden
guinea, engaged in his desperate encounter with the most terribly
terrific and greenest of green dragons. Not only are his orders worn by
nobles, but by British monarchs themselves, while, in memory of his
heroic deeds, they lead forth their armies under his banner. However,
many long years have passed away since he astonished the world by his
prowess. Of royal birth was his mother, the daughter of one of
England's early kings; a Duke and High Steward of the realm was his
father. Of the name of the king history is most mysteriously silent, or
of the extent of his dominions; but there can be no doubt that the
ancient city of Coventry was situated within them, and that, if not the
principal, it was one of the principal cities of the realm, and,
moreover, that a prison existed there on the silent system. Thus, when
people are unfit to be spoken to, it is said, by a figure of speech,
that they are sent to Coventry.
In Coventry the Lord High Steward and his royal bride resided. Now,
some time before the Princess was about to present her husband with a
babe, she dreamed a dream; it was enough to terrify her, for she dreamed
that, instead of a smiling infant, she should have to nurse a little
green dragon. To nurse a small crocodile or alligator, or even a young
hippopotamus, would have been bad enough, but a green dragon, with claws
and a long wriggling fork-pointed tail, was out of the question; the
very idea was enough to drive her distracted. The Lord High Steward was
a man who always took the bull by the horns in a dilemma, and so he
resolved forthwith to take steps to solve the mystery. He had heard
that in the Black Forest in Germany there lived a powerful enchantress,
Kalyb by name, who would, without doubt, be able at once to give him all
the information he required. Sir Albert, for that was the High
Steward's name, instantly set off across the seas, accompanied only by
his faithful Squire, De Fistycuff. They bore offerings of gold and
silver and precious stones with which to propitiate her.
For many days they voyaged, tossed by the stormy billows, and for many
days they travelled on till they arrived at the dreary precincts of the
Black Forest. Boldly plunging into it, they reached a dense part of the
wood, composed of withered, hollow, and distorted trees, whence
proceeded sounds the most unearthly and terrific. The dismal croaking
of the night raven, the hissing of serpents, the hoarse bellowing of
wild bulls, the roaring of lions, the laughing of hyenas, and other
hideous cries of all sorts of savage beasts. Some men would have stood
astounded. Not so Sir Albert and his faithful Squire. On they went
till they found themselves in front of a dark and lofty rock, within
which was seen a vast and gloomy cavern. The entrance was secured by a
massive iron gate studded over with huge knots and bars of steel. Near
it hung a brazen trumpet, the use of which the Knight full readily
guessed. He blew a blast which rung through the vaulted cave, echoing
away till the sounds were lost in the distance, while it made the very
earth rock and tremble. Scarcely had the echoes of the magic horn died
away than a terrifically loud, discordant, hollow voice, proceeding out
of the very depths of the cavern, inquired:--"Mortal, what want you
here?" Sir Albert briefly told his errand, and said that he had brought
gifts which he desired to offer to the famous Enchantress Kalyb, the
lady of the Black Forest.
As he was a courteous knight, and had spoken the Enchantress fair, so he
expected a courteous and satisfactory reply. What, then, was his
amazement when he heard these words proceeding from the cavern:--
"Whatever must be--must be there's no doubt;
You've got an answer, and so turn about!"
In vain he protested that such a reply was far from satisfactory; that
he should go back as wise as he came; that it would have been better had
he stayed at home; that he should have had all his pains for nothing.
No other answer could he get. Though a courteous knight, he was yet
somewhat irascible; and this was an occasion to try the temper of a
milder man than a knight of those days. He seized the trumpet, and blew
till it refused to give forth any further sound. He handed it to De
Fistycuff, and told him to blow till he cracked his own cheeks or the
trumpet. In vain the Squire puffed and puffed, not a sound could he
produce. He holloed and shouted, and so did De Fistycuff; but to their
united voices no answer was returned. Then Sir Albert began to shower
abuse on the Enchantress; he told her some awkward truths, and called
her some names which were far from complimentary; but the only answer he
received was in shouts of hollow and mocking laughter which proceeded
out of the recesses of the cavern.
At length Sir Albert turned his horse's head, and in high dudgeon rode
off, followed by De Fistycuff, who first pocketed the gifts they had
brought to propitiate the Enchantress. Dull and dreary was their
homeward journey; and, if truth must be told, the Lord High Steward
could not help feeling remarkably small at the result of their
expedition. After having been tossed about for many days by a storm,
and made very sick in the German Ocean, they at length reached Coventry.
The master of his household, his family physician, and a numerous
assemblage of knights and ladies, rushed out of his castle to tell Sir
Albert the news. Neither an hippopotamus nor an alligator had been born
to him, but a right merry, rosy, bouncing infant. Alas! however, there
was grief in store for the gallant knight, the partner of his joys and
cares, his beautiful princess, was dead! Deeply he mourned his loss,
and then he inquired if any one could solve the mystery of the dream
which had caused him so long a journey. He found that had he waited
patiently at home, like a wise man, all would have been known. The
smiling infant was brought to him; and then, wonderful to relate, he
discovered on its breast the portrait of a green dragon, just as his
wife had described it to him; and, moreover, a blood-red cross marked on
the boy's right hand, and a golden garter below his knee on the left.
"He'll do something wonderful!" exclaimed the proud father; and he was
not mistaken.
The name of George was given to the boy; and forthwith the Lord High
Steward, retiring from the cares of state, bestowed on him all his
thoughts and attention. He selected three nurses to watch over him,
called Prudence, Firmness, and Gentleness. One to prepare his
nourishment, another to feed him, and the last to lull him to sleep.
All would have gone well, but unhappily the boy's grandfather suggested
that another nurse was necessary, and Carelessness was introduced into
the household.
It should be known that all this time the wicked Enchantress Kalyb had
been well aware who it was who had come to her cavern and blown so
furiously on her magic horn. Every word the Knight had uttered, and
every opprobrious epithet which he had so lavishly bestowed, had been
heard by her. She nourished, in consequence, in her evil heart, a
spirit of revenge, which she waited a convenient opportunity to gratify.
Oh, anger! oh, loss of temper! how blind art thou! How dost thou make
wise men become like the most foolish! Revenge, too, how dost thou,
malignant spirit, fall into the trap thou hast thyself laid, as will be
soon seen!
Wicked Kalyb waited her time. She knew of the young Prince's birth,
she knew how his father doated on him, and she resolved to carry him
off; but when she heard of the three nurses appointed to guard over him
she despaired of succeeding in her object. The boy grew and flourished.
Every day he became more beautiful, every day he gave proofs of a noble
and gallant spirit. Truly was he his father's pride; worthy was he of
the admiration of all the people of Coventry. When, however, Kalyb
found out that Carelessness had become his nurse, instantly she hurried
to the sea-shore; when, embarking in an egg-shell,--the shell, be it
known, of a huge roc's egg--she set sail for the shores of England.
Quickly she spun over the ocean, round and round, faster than any
ordinary ship could sail, till she reached the land; and, arriving in
the neighbourhood of Coventry, she hid herself in a thick wood, till she
could pounce out on the young Prince and carry him off.
However, she had long to wait. Sometimes Prudence walked out with him,
sometimes Gentleness, and sometimes Firmness; and all kept so careful a
watch over him that she had no opportunity of effecting her purpose. At
length, Carelessness one fatal day had charge of him. Kalyb immediately
changed herself into a lovely butterfly. Off ran the boy with his
velvet cap to catch the fluttering insect. Carelessness sat down on a
bank and fell asleep. Soon Kalyb led the boy into the recesses of the
forest; then seizing him, in spite of his cries, she placed him in a
chariot with ten fiery steeds which she had conjured up, and darting off
like a flash of lightning, reached the coast, embarked in her egg-shell,
which whirled round and round as before, and then she travelled on till
she arrived once more, with her captive, at the magic cavern in the
Black Forest. The massive gates flew asunder at a touch of her silver
wand, and the Prince found himself among wonders which his imagination
had never before conceived, which far surpassed anything he had ever
beheld even in the beautiful city of Coventry. He soon, however, grew
weary of them, and longed to return to his fond father and careful
nurses; but he found himself a prisoner, and no outlet could he discover
by which he could make his escape from the cavern--the massive gates
prevented all egress to any who had once entered within them.
The wicked Kalyb watched the sorrow of the boy, and knowing that his
father was still more sorrowful, rejoiced in her revenge. She had
numerous attendants to do her will. Among them was a dwarf, a
misshapen, ill-favoured creature. To his care the boy was confided,
with directions to beat and teaze him whenever he had nothing else to
do. The noble child bore every indignity with equanimity and good
humour, and, instead of harbouring revenge, took every opportunity of
doing a kindness to the poor dwarf, who was himself the peculiar object
of the wicked Kalyb's ill-treatment. Crumpleback was the dwarf's name.
Often poor Crumpleback's body was black and blue with the pommelling he
received from the furious Kalyb, while his cheeks were thin and haggard
from want of food and rest. One day Kalyb was absent when Crumpleback
addressed the Prince:--"Know," said he, "kind boy, that I am a fairy in
disguise, and though less powerful than the fell Enchantress Kalyb, I
may yet circumvent her acts. Your kindness and gentleness, and
forgiveness of the injuries I was forced to do you, have won my heart.
I have vowed to serve you to the best of my power. Let not Kalyb know
what has passed between us, but wait patiently, and see what will
happen." The young Prince thanked the fairy, and his hopes of escaping
once more revived. He had long to wait. In the mean time, whenever
Kalyb was absent, the seeming dwarf gave him instructions in all the
arts which would fit him to become an accomplished knight. Book
learning, though not much in vogue in those days, was not neglected.
Sometimes the fairy put a shining sword into his grasp, and showed him
how to wield it with a force no one could withstand; sometimes he was
mounted on a fiery steed which few mortals could have bestrode, and with
lance in hand he was taught to tilt against phantom knights, which, in
the most desperate encounters, he invariably overthrew. Thus, by the
time he had attained to man's estate, no knight in Europe was so
accomplished, while none surpassed him in virtue or valour.
Meantime the Lord High Steward bitterly mourned the loss of his
promising son. In vain he sent messengers throughout the world to find
him, and at last, remembering the ancient proverb, "Who wants goes, who
does not want sends," he resolved to go in search of the boy himself.
Storing himself with gold and precious jewels, he set off, attended only
by his faithful De Fistycuff. From place to place he wandered, year
after year, till his locks were turned to silvery grey, and his beard
became like the down of a thistle. One evening his heart fainting, and
his once firm knees trembling, he reached the gate of a monastery in
Bohemia. Then he sunk down before even his Squire could ring the bell
to summon the monks to his assistance. When the porter opened the door,
the Lord High Steward of England had breathed his last, and poor De
Fistycuff was bewailing his loved master's death, and his own hard fate,
in being thus left alone in a foreign land. The monks buried Sir Albert
hard by, and raised a monument, covered with some of his own jewels,
over his grave, reserving the remainder to pay the expenses of his
funeral. The worthy De Fistycuff they recommended to return to his
native land, unless he wished to become a monk; an honour he declined,
having his faithful Grumculda waiting for him at home. So, paying a
farewell visit to his master's tomb, the jewels on which he found had by
enchantment been changed to glass, he set off on his journey. Happily
he had, however, some of the presents intended for the wicked Kalyb in
his pockets; so, like an honest Briton, he was able to pay his way, and
be no discredit to his country. Leaving him to pursue his toilsome
peregrination, we return once more to the cavern of Kalyb.