with great tenderness, and King Arthur laid his head in the lap of one,
and she said, "Ah, dear brother, why have ye tarried so long, until your
wound was cold?" And then they rowed away, and King Arthur said to Sir
Bedivere, "I will go unto the valley of Avalon to heal my grievous wound,
and if I never return, pray for my soul." He was rowed away by the weeping
queens, and one of them was Arthur's sister Morgan le Fay; another was the
queen of Northgalis, and the third was the queen of Waste Lands; and it
was the belief for years in many parts of England that Arthur was not
dead, but would come again to reign in England, when he had been nursed
long enough by Morgan le Fay in the island of Avalon.
The tradition was that King Arthur lived upon this island in an enchanted
castle which had the power of a magnet, so that every one who came near it
was drawn thither and could not get away. Morgan le Fay was its ruler
(called more correctly Morgan la fée, or the fairy), and her name Morgan
meant sea-born. By one tradition, the queens who bore away Arthur were
accompanied in the boat by the bard and enchanter, Merlin, who had long
been the king's adviser, and this is the description of the island said to
have been given by Merlin to another bard, Taliessin:--
"'We came to that green and fertile island which each year is blessed
with two autumns, two springs, two summers, two gatherings of fruit,--the
land where pearls are found, where the flowers spring as you gather them--
that isle of orchards called the "Isle of the Blessed." No tillage there,
no coulter to tear the bosom of the earth. Without labor it affords wheat
and the grape. There the lives extend beyond a century. There nine
sisters, whose will is the only law, rule over those who go from us to
them. The eldest excels in the art of healing, and exceeds her sisters in
beauty. She is called Morgana, and knows the virtues of all the herbs of
the meadow. She can change her form, and soar in the air like a bird; she
can be where she pleases in a moment, and in a moment descend on our
coasts from the clouds. Her sister Thiten is renowned for her skill on the
harp.'
"'With the prince we arrived, and Morgana received us with fitting
honour. And in her own chamber she placed the king on a bed of gold, and
with delicate touch, she uncovered the wound. Long she considered it, and
at length said to him that she could heal it if he stayed long with her,
and willed her to attempt her cure. Rejoiced at this news, we intrusted
the king to her care, and soon after set sail.'"
Sir Thomas Malory, who wrote the book called the "Historie of King
Arthur," or more commonly the "Morte d'Arthur," utters these high thoughts
concerning the memory of the great king:--
"Oh, yee mightie and pompeous lords, shining in the glory transitory of
this unstable life, as in raigning over great realmes and mightie great
countries, fortified with strong castles and toures, edified with many a
rich citie; yee also, yee fierce and mightie knights, so valiant in
adventurous deeds of armes; behold, behold, see how this mightie
conquerour king Arthur, whom in his humaine life all the world doubted,
see also the noble queene Guenever, which sometime sat in her chaire
adorned with gold, pearles, and precious stones, now lye full low in
obscure fosse or pit, covered with clods of earth and clay; behold also
this mightie champion Sir Launcelot, pearelesse of all knighthood, see now
how hee lyeth groveling upon the cold mould, now being so feeble and faint
that sometime was so terrible. How and in what manner ought yee to bee so
desirous of worldly honour so dangerous! Therefore mee thinketh this
present booke is right necessary often to be read, for in it shall yee
finde the most gracious, knightly, and vertuous war of the most noble
knights of the world, whereby they gat praysing continually. Also mee
seemeth, by the oft reading thereof, yee shall greatly desire to accustome
your selfe in following of those gracious knightly deedes, that is to say,
to dread God, and to love righteousnesse, faithfully and couragiously to
serve your soveraigne prince; and the more that God hath given you the
triumphall honour, the meeker yee ought to bee, ever feareing the
unstablenesse of this deceitfull world."
XI
MAELDUIN'S VOYAGE
An Irish knight named Maelduin set forth early in the eighth century to
seek round the seas for his father's murderers. By the advice of a wizard,
he was to take with him seventeen companions, neither less nor more; but
at the last moment his three foster brothers, whom he had not included,
begged to go with him. He refused, and they cast themselves into the sea
to swim after his vessel. Maelduin had pity on them and took them in, but
his disregard of the wizard's advice brought punishment; and it was only
after long wanderings, after visiting multitudes of unknown and often
enchanted islands, and after the death or loss of the three foster
brothers, that Maelduin was able to return to his native land.
One island which they visited was divided into four parts by four fences,
one of gold, one of silver, one of brass, one of crystal. In the first
division there dwelt kings, in the second queens, in the third warriors,
and in the fourth maidens. The voyagers landed in the maidens' realm; one
of these came out in a boat and gave them food, such that every one found
in it the taste he liked best; then followed an enchanted drink, which
made them sleep for three days and three nights. When they awakened they
were in their boat on the sea, and nothing was to be seen either of island
or maidens.
The next island had in it a fortress with a brazen door and a bridge of
glass, on which every one who ascended it slipped and fell. A woman came
from the fortress, pail in hand, drew water from the sea and returned, not
answering them when they spoke. When they reached at last the brazen door
and struck upon it, it made a sweet and soothing sound, and they went to
sleep, for three days and nights, as before. On the fourth day a maiden
came who was most beautiful; she wore garments of white silk, a white
mantle with a brooch of silver with studs of gold, and a gold band round
her hair. She greeted each man by his name, and said, "It is long that we
have expected you." She took them into the castle and gave them every kind
of food they had ever desired. Maelduin was filled with love for her and
asked her for her love; but she told him that love was sin and she had no
knowledge of sin; so she left him. On the morrow they found their boat,
stranded on a crag, while lady and fortress and island had all vanished.
Another island on which they landed was large and bare, with another
fortress and a palace. There they met a lady who was kinder. She wore an
embroidered purple mantle, gold embroidered gloves, and ornamented
sandals, and was just riding up to the palace door. Seventeen maidens
waited there for her. She offered to keep the strangers as guests, and
that each of them should have a wife, she herself wedding Maelduin. She
was, it seems, the widow of the king of the island, and these were her
seventeen daughters. She ruled the island and went every day to judge the
people and direct their lives. If the strangers would stay, she said that
they should never more know sorrow, or hardships, or old age; she herself,
in spite of her large family, being young and beautiful as ever. They
stayed three months, and it seemed to all but Maelduin that the three
months were three years. When the queen was absent, one day, the men took
the boat and compelled Maelduin to leave the island with them; but the
queen rode after them and flung a rope, which Maelduin caught and which
clung to his hand. She drew them back to the shore; this happened thrice,
and the men accused Maelduin of catching the rope on purpose; he bade
another man catch it, and his companions cut off his hand, and they
escaped at last.
On one island the seafarers found three magic apples, and each apple gave
sufficient food for forty nights; again, on another island, they found the
same apples. In another place still, a great bird like a cloud arrived,
with a tree larger than an oak in its claws. After a while two eagles came
and cleaned the feathers of the larger bird. They also stripped off the
red berries from the tree and threw them into the ocean until its foam
grew red. The great bird then flew into the ocean and cleaned itself. This
happened daily for three days, when the great bird flew away with stronger
wings, its youth being thus renewed.
They came to another island where many people stood by the shore talking
and joking. They were all looking at Maelduin and his comrades, and kept
gaping and laughing, but would not exchange a word with them. Then
Maelduin sent one of his foster brothers on the island; but he ranged
himself with the others and did as they did. Maelduin and his men rowed
round and round the island, and whenever they passed the point where this
comrade was, they addressed him, but he never answered, and only gaped and
laughed. They waited for him a long time and left him. This island they
found to be called The Island of Joy.
On another island they found sheep grazing, of enormous size; on another,
birds, whose eggs when eaten caused feathers to sprout all over the bodies
of those who eat them. On another they found crimson flowers, whose mere
perfume sufficed for food, and they encountered women whose only food was
apples. Through the window flew three birds: a blue one with a crimson
head; a crimson one with a green head; a green one with a golden head.
These sang heavenly music, and were sent to accompany the wanderers on
their departing; the queen of the island gave them an emerald cup, such
that water poured into it became wine. She asked if they knew how long
they had been there, and when they said "a day," she told them that it was
a year, during which they had had no food. As they sailed away, the birds
sang to them until both birds and island disappeared in the mist.
They saw another island standing on a single pedestal, as if on one foot,
projecting from the water. Rowing round it to seek a way into it they
found no passage, but they saw in the base of the pedestal, under water, a
closed door with a lock--this being the only way in which the island could
be entered. Around another island there was a fiery rampart, which
constantly moved in a circle. In the side of that rampart was an open
door, and as it came opposite them in its turning course, they beheld
through it the island and all therein; and its occupants, even human
beings, were many and beautiful, wearing rich garments, and feasting with
gold vessels in their hands. The voyagers lingered long to gaze upon this
marvel.
On another island they found many human beings, black in color and
raiment, and always bewailing. Lots were cast, and another of Maelduin's
foster brothers was sent on shore. He at once joined the weeping crowd,
and did as they did. Two others were sent to bring him back, and both
shared his fate, falling under some strange spell. Then Maelduin sent four
others, and bade them look neither at the land nor at the sky; to wrap
their mouths and noses with their garments, and not breathe the island
air; and not to take off their eyes from their comrades. In this way the
two who followed the foster brother on shore were rescued, but he remained
behind.
Of another island they could see nothing but a fort, protected by a great
white rampart, on which nothing living was to be seen but a small cat,
leaping from one to another of four stone pillars. They found brooches and
ornaments of gold and silver, they found white quilts and embroidered
garments hanging up, flitches of bacon were suspended, a whole ox was
roasting, and vessels stood filled with intoxicating drinks. Maelduin
asked the cat if all this was for them; but the cat merely looked at him
and went on playing. The seafarers dined and drank, then went to sleep. As
they were about to depart, Maelduin's third foster brother proposed to
carry off a tempting necklace, and in spite of his leader's warnings
grasped it. Instantly the cat leaped through him like a fiery arrow,
burned him so that he became ashes, and went back to its pillar. Thus all
three of the foster brothers who had disregarded the wizard's warning, and
forced themselves upon the party, were either killed or left behind upon
the enchanted islands.
Around another island there was a demon horse-race going on; the riders
were just riding in over the sea, and then the race began; the voyagers
could only dimly perceive the forms of the horses, but could hear the
cries of their riders, the strokes of the whips, and the words of the
spectators, "See the gray horse!" "Watch the chestnut horse!" and the
voyagers were so alarmed that they rowed away. The next island was covered
with trees laden with golden apples, but these were being rapidly eaten by
small, scarlet animals which they found, on coming nearer, to be all made
of fire and thus brightened in hue. Then the animals vanished, and
Maelduin with his men landed, and though the ground was still hot from the
fiery creatures, they brought away a boat load of the apples. Another
island was divided into two parts by a brass wall across the middle. There
were two flocks of sheep, and those on one side of the wall were white,
while the others were black. A large man was dividing and arranging the
sheep, and threw them easily over the wall. When he threw a white sheep
among the black ones it became black, and when he threw a black sheep
among the white ones, it became white instantly. The voyagers thought of
landing, but when Maelduin saw this, he said, "Let us throw something on
shore to see if it will change color. If it does, we will avoid the
island." So they took a black branch and threw it toward the white sheep.
When it fell, it grew white; and the same with a white branch on the black
side. "It is lucky for us," said Maelduin, "that we did not land on this
island."
They came next to an island where there was but one man visible, very
aged, and with long, white hair. Above him were trees, covered with great
numbers of birds. The old man told them that he like them had come in a
curragh, or coracle, and had placed many green sods beneath his feet, to
steady the boat. Reaching this spot, the green sods had joined together
and formed an island which at first gave him hardly room to stand; but
every year one foot was added to its size, and one tree grew up. He had
lived there for centuries, and those birds were the souls of his children
and descendants, each of whom was sent there after death, and they were
all fed from heaven each day. On the next island there was a great roaring
as of bellows and a sound of smiths' hammers, as if striking all together
on an anvil, every sound seeming to come from the strokes of a dozen men.
"Are they near?" asked one big voice. "Silence!" said another; and they
were evidently watching for the boat. When it rowed away, one of the
smiths flung after them a vast mass of red-hot iron, which he had grasped
with the tongs from the furnace. It fell just short, but made the whole
sea to hiss and boil around them as they rowed away.
Another island had a wall of water round it, and Maelduin and his men saw
multitudes of people driving away herds of cattle and sheep, and shouting,
"There they are, they have come again;" and a woman pelted them from below
with great nuts, which the crew gathered for eating. Then as they rowed
away they heard one man say, "Where are they now?" and another cried,
"They are going away." Still again they visited an island where a great
stream of water shot up into the air and made an arch like a rainbow that
spanned the land.
They walked below it without getting wet, and hooked down from it many
large salmon; besides that, many fell out above their heads, so that they
had more than they could carry away with them. These are by no means all
of the strange adventures of Maelduin and his men.
The last island to which they came was called Raven's Stream, and there
one of the men, who had been very homesick, leaped out upon shore. As soon
as he touched the land he became a heap of ashes, as if his body had lain
in the earth a thousand years. This showed them for the first time during
how vast a period they had been absent, and what a space they must have
traversed. Instead of thirty enchanted islands they had visited thrice
fifty, many of them twice or thrice as large as Ireland, whence the
voyagers first came. In the wonderful experiences of their long lives they
had apparently lost sight of the search which they had undertaken, for the
murderers of Maelduin's father, since of them we hear no more. The island
enchantment seems to have banished all other thoughts.
XII
THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRANDAN
The young student Brandan was awakened in the morning by the crowing of
the cock in the great Irish abbey where he dwelt; he rose, washed his face
and hands and dressed himself, then passed into the chapel, where he
prayed and sang until the dawn of the day. "With song comes courage" was
the motto of the abbey. It was one of those institutions like great
colonies,--church, library, farm, workshop, college, all in one,--of which
Ireland in the sixth century was full, and which existed also elsewhere.
Their extent is best seen by the modern traveller in the remains of the
vast buildings at Tintern in England, scattered over a wide extent of
country, where you keep coming upon walls and fragments of buildings which
once formed a part of a single great institution, in which all the life of
the community was organized, as was the case in the Spanish missions of
California. At the abbey of Bangor in Wales, for instance, there were two
thousand four hundred men,--all under the direction of a comparatively
small body of monks, who were trained to an amount of organizing skill
like that now needed for a great railway system. Some of these men were
occupied, in various mechanic arts, some in mining, but most of them in
agriculture, which they carried on with their own hands, without the aid
of animals, and in total silence.
Having thus labored in the fields until noonday, Brandan then returned
that he might work in the library, transcribing ancient manuscripts or
illustrating books of prayer. Having to observe silence, he wrote the name
of the book to give to the librarian, and if it were a Christian work, he
stretched out his hand, making motions with his fingers as if turning over
the leaves; but if it were by a pagan author, the monk who asked for it
was required to scratch his ear as a dog does, to show his contempt,
because, the regulations said, an unbeliever might well be compared to
that animal[1]. Taking the book, he copied it in the Scriptorium or
library, or took it to his cell, where he wrote all winter without a fire.
It is to such monks that we owe all our knowledge of the earliest history
of England and Ireland; though doubtless the hand that wrote the histories
of Gildas and Bede grew as tired as that of Brandan, or as that of the
monk who wrote in the corner of a beautiful manuscript: "He who does not
know how to write imagines it to be no labor; but though only three
fingers hold the pen, the whole body grows weary." In the same way Brandan
may have learned music and have had an organ in his monastery, or have had
a school of art, painting beautiful miniatures for the holy missals. This
was his early life in the convent.
[Footnote 1: _Adde ut aurem tangas digito sicut canis cum pede
pruriens solet, quia nec immerito infideles tali animati comparantur_.
--MARTÈNE, _De Antiq. Monach. ritibus_, p. 289, qu. by Montalembert,
Monks of the West (tr.) VI. 190.]
Once a day they were called to food; this consisting for them of bread
and vegetables with no seasoning but salt, although better fare was
furnished for the sick and the aged, for travellers and the poor. These
last numbered, at Easter time, some three or four hundred, who constantly
came and went, and upon whom the monks and young disciples waited. After
the meal the monks spent three hours in the chapel, on their knees, still
silent; then they confessed in turn to the abbot and then sought their
hard-earned rest. They held all things in common; no one even received a
gift for himself. War never reached them; it was the rarest thing for an
armed party to molest their composure; their domains were regarded as a
haven for the stormy world. Because there were so many such places in
Ireland, it was known as The Isle of Saints.
Brandan was sent after a time to other abbeys, where he could pursue
especial studies, for they had six branches of learning,--grammar,
rhetoric, dialectics, geometry, astronomy, and music. Thus he passed three
years, and was then advised to go to an especial teacher in the mountains,
who had particular modes of teaching certain branches. But this priest--he
was an Italian--was suffering from poverty, and could receive his guest
but for a few weeks. One day as Brandan sat studying, he saw, the legend
says, a white mouse come from a crack in the wall, a visitor which climbed
upon his table and left there a grain of wheat. Then the mouse paused,
looked at the student, then ran about the table, went away and reappeared
with another grain, and another, up to five. Brandan, who had at the very
instant learned his lesson, rose from his seat, followed the mouse, and
looking through a hole in the wall, saw a great pile of wheat, stored in a
concealed apartment. On his showing this to the head of the convent, it
was pronounced a miracle; the food was distributed to the poor, and "the
people blessed his charity while the Lord blessed his studies."
In the course of years, Brandan became himself the head of one of the
great abbeys, that of Clonfert, of the order of St. Benedict, where he had
under him nearly three thousand monks. In this abbey, having one day given
hospitality to a monk named Berinthus, who had just returned from an ocean
voyage, Brandan learned from him the existence, far off in the ocean, of
an island called The Delicious Isle, to which a priest named Mernoc had
retired, with many companions of his order. Berinthus found Mernoc and the
other monks living apart from one another for purposes of prayer, but when
they came together, Mernoc said, they were like bees from different
beehives. They met for their food and for church; their food included only
apples, nuts, and various herbs. One day Mernoc said to Berinthus, "I will
conduct you to the Promised Isle of the Saints." So they went on board a
little ship and sailed westward through a thick fog until a great light
shone and they found themselves near an island which was large and
fruitful and bore many apples. There were no herbs without blossoms, he
said, nor trees without fruits, and there were precious stones, and the
island was traversed by a great river. Then they met a man of shining
aspect who told them that they had without knowing it passed a year
already in the island; that they had needed neither food nor sleep. Then
they returned to the Delicious Island, and every one knew where they had
been by the perfume of their garments. This was the story of Berinthus,
and from this time forward nothing could keep Brandan from the purpose of
beholding for himself these blessed islands.