GREEN AND SCARLET
One evening Aurelius was telling Mr Stodham about the “battle of the
green and scarlet.” “It took place in your country,” said he to the
good man, too timid to be incredulous.
“No,” answered Mr Stodham, “I never heard of it.”
“You shall,” said Aurelius, and told the tale.
“The first thing that I can remember is that a tall, gaunt man in green
broke out of a dark forest, leaping extravagantly, superhumanly, but
rhythmically, and wildly singing; and that he was leading an army to
victory. As he carved and painted himself on my mind I knew without
effort what had gone before this supreme moment.
“It was late afternoon in winter. No light came from the misted,
invisible sky, but the turf of the bare hill-top seemed of itself to
breathe up a soft illumination. Where this hill-top may be I know not,
but at the time of which I am speaking I was on foot in broad daylight
and on a good road in the county of Hampshire.
“The green man, the extravagant leaper and wild singer, broke out of
the hillside forest at the head of a green army. His leaping and his
dancing were so magnificent that his followers might at first have been
mistaken for idle spectators. The enemy came, clad in scarlet, out of
the forest at the opposite side of the hill-top. The two were advancing
to meet upon a level plateau of smooth, almost olive turf....
“For days and nights the steep hillside forest had covered the
manœuvres of the forces. Except one or two on each side they had seen
and heard nothing of one another, so dark were the trees, the mists
so dense and of such confusing motion; and that those few had seen or
heard their enemies could only be guessed, for they were found dead.
Day and night the warriors saw pale mist, dark trees, darker earth, and
the pale faces of their companions, alive or dead. What they heard was
chiefly the panting of breathless men on the steeps, but sometimes also
the drip of the sombre crystal mist-beads, the drenched flight of great
birds and their shrieks of alarm or of resentment at the invaders,
the chickadeedee of little birds flitting about them without fear, the
singing of thrushes in thorns at the edges of the glades.
“In the eventless silence of the unknown forest each army, and the
scarlet men more than the green, had begun to long for the conflict,
if only because it might prove that they were not lost, forgotten,
marooned, in the heart of the mist, cut off from time and from all
humanity save the ancient dead whose bones lay in the barrows under the
beeches. Therefore it was with joy that they heard the tread of their
enemies approaching across the plain. When they could see one another
it was to the scarlet men as if they had sighted home; to the green
men it was as if a mistress was beckoning. They forgot the endless
strange hills, the dark trees, the curst wizard mist. It no longer
seemed to them that the sheep-bells, bubbling somewhere out of sight,
came from flocks who were in that world which they had unwillingly and
unwittingly left for ever.
“The scarlet men were very silent; if there were songs in the heads of
two or three, none sang. They looked neither to left nor to right; they
saw not their fellows, but only the enemy. The breadth of the plain was
very great to them. With all their solidity they could hardly endure
the barren interval--it had been planned that they should wait for the
charge, but it was felt now that such a pause might be too much for
them. Ponderous and stiff, not in a straight line, nor in a curve, nor
with quite natural irregularity, but in half a dozen straight lines
that never made one, they came on, like rocks moving out against the
tide. I noticed that they were modern red-coats armed with rifles,
their bayonets fixed.
“The green men made a curved irregular front like the incoming sea.
They rejoiced separately and together in these minutes of approach.
And they sang. Their song was one which the enemy took to be mournful
because it had in it the spirit of the mountain mists as well as of the
mountains. It saddened the hearts of the enemy mysteriously; the green
men themselves it filled, as a cup with wine, with the certainty of
immortality. They turned their eyes frequently towards their nearest
companions, or they held their heads high, so that their gaze did not
take in the earth or anything upon it. The enemy they scarcely saw.
They saw chiefly their leaping leader and his mighty twelve.
“The first love of the scarlet men for the enemy had either died, or
had turned into hate, fear, indignation, or contempt. There may have
been joy among them, but all the passions of the individuals were
blended into one passion--if such it could be called--of the mass, part
contempt for the others, part confidence in themselves. But among the
green men first love had grown swiftly to a wild passion of joy.
“The broad scarlet men pushed forward steadily.
“The tall green hero danced singing towards them. His men leaped after
him--first a company of twelve, who might have been his brethren; then
the whole green host, lightly and extravagantly. The leader towered
like a fountain of living flame. Had he stood still he must have been
gaunt and straight like a beech-tree that stands alone on the crest
of a sea-beholding hill. He was neither young nor old--or was he both
young and old like the gods? In his blue eyes burnt a holy and joyous
fire. He bore no weapon save a dagger in his right hand, so small that
to the enemy he appeared unarmed as he leaped towards them. First he
hopped, then he leaped with one leg stretched forward and very high,
and curved somewhat in front of the other, while at the same time the
arm on the opposite side swung across his body. But, in fact, whenever
I looked at him--and I saw chiefly him--he was high in the air, with
his head uplifted and thrown back, his knee almost at the height of his
chin. He also sang that seeming sorrowful melody of the mountain joy,
accented to an extravagant exultation by his leaping and the flashing
of his eyes.
“If he had not been there doubtless the twelve would have astonished
the scarlet men and myself just as much, for they too were tall, danced
the same leaping dance, sang the mountain song with the same wild and
violent joy, and were likewise armed only with short daggers.
“Suddenly the leader stopped; the twelve stopped; the green army
stopped; all were silent. The scarlet men continued to advance, not
without glancing at one another for the first time, with inquiry in
their looks, followed by scorn; they expected the enemy to turn and
fly. They had no sooner formed this opinion than the tall green leader
leaped forward again singing, the twelve leaped after him, the sea-like
edge of the green army swayed onward. Almost a smile of satisfaction
spread over the stiff faces of their opponents, for there was now but a
little distance between the armies; how easily they would push through
that frivolous prancing multitude--if indeed it ever dared to meet
their onset. This was the one fear of the scarlet men, that the next
minute was not to see the clash and the victory, that they would have
to plunge once more into the forest, the mist, the silence, after a foe
that seemed to them as inhuman as those things and perhaps related to
them.
“Suddenly again the green leader was rigid, his song ceased. The
twelve, the whole green army, were as statues. A smile grew along the
line of the scarlet men when they had conquered their surprise, a smile
of furious pity for such a dancing-master and his dancing-school--a
smile presently of uneasiness as the seconds passed and they could
hear only the sound of their own tread. The silence of all those men
unnerved them. Now ... would the green men turn? Some of the scarlet
men, eager to make sure of grappling with the enemy, quickened their
step, but not all. The green men did not turn. Once again the dance
and the song leaped up, this time as if at a signal from the low sun
which smote across the green leader’s breast, like a shield, and like a
banner. Wilder than ever the dance and the song of the green men. The
scarlet men could see their eyes now, and even the small daggers like
jewels in the hands of the leaders. Some were still full of indignant
hate and already held the dancers firm on the points of their bayonets.
Some thought that there was a trick, they knew not how it might end.
Some wished to wait kneeling, thus to receive the dancers on their
steadfast points. Some were afraid, looking to left and right for a
sign. One tripped intentionally and fell. The line became as jagged as
if it were a delicate thing blown by the wind. The green leader cut
the line in two without stopping his dance, leaving his dagger in the
throat of a rifleman. Not one of the twelve but penetrated the breaking
line in the course of the dance. The whole green army surged through
the scarlet without ceasing their song, which seemed to hover above
them like spray over waves. Then they turned.
“The scarlet men did not turn. They ran swiftly now, and it was their
backs that met the spears of the green men as they crowded into the
forest. The tall, weaponless, leaping singer seemed everywhere, above
and round about, turning the charge and thrust of the green men into a
lovely and a joyous thing like the arrival of Spring in March, making
the very trees ghastly to the scarlet fugitives running hither and
thither silently to their deaths. Not one of the defeated survived,
for the few that eluded their pursuers could not escape the mist, nor
yet the song of the green leader, except by death, which they gave to
themselves in sadness.
“I cannot wonder that the hero’s dancing and singing were not to be
withstood by his enemies, since to me it was divine and so moving that
I could not help trying to imitate both song and dance while I was
walking and dreaming.”
“Nothing like that ever happened to me,” said Mr Stodham. “But I
thought you meant a real battle. It was lucky you weren’t run over if
you were dreaming like that along the road.”
“I suppose I was not born to be run over,” said Aurelius.