befitted a king's daughter. Every day she seemed to grow in wisdom and
fairness, till when she was twenty years old there was none like her
in the land. But Godrich, when he saw how good and how fair she was,
grew jealous of her. "Shall she be queen over me?" he thought. "Must I
give up my kingdom and my power to her? She has waxed all too proud; I
have treated her with too great gentleness. She shall not be queen. I
will rule, and after me my son shall be king."
As that treason crept into his mind, he forgot his oath to Athelwold,
caring not a straw for it. Without more ado he sent for Goldborough
from Winchester and took her to Dover. There he set her in a strong
castle, and clad her meanly, and guarded her so strictly that no man
could see her or come at her without his leave.
Now it chanced that about this time the same thing came to pass in
Denmark as in England. Birkabeyn, King of Denmark, died, and at his
death gave to one Earl Godard the charge of his kingdom and of his son
Havelok and his two daughters, Swanborough and Elfled. Godard stood by
his oath no better than Godrich, but cast all three children into
prison, and well-nigh starved them to death. But when they had lain in
prison for a little time, and were nearly dead of hunger, he went to
see them.
"How do you fare?" he asked, for Havelok ran to him, and crept upon
his knees when he sat down, and looked up joyfully into his face. "I
hear that you moan and cry: why is this?"
"We hunger sore," answered Havelok. "We have nought to eat, and no man
has brought us meat or drink. We are nigh dead of hunger."
Godard heard his words, but felt no pity; he cared not a straw for
their misery. He took Swanborough and Elfled by the hand, and slew
them then and there. Then he turned to Havelok and would have slain
him also. But the boy in terror cried for mercy. "Have pity," he said.
"Spare me and I will give you all Denmark, and will vow never to take
up arms against you. Let me live, and I will flee from Denmark this
very day, and never more come back; I will take oath that Birkabeyn
was not my father."
At that some touch of doubt came into Godard's mind. He put up his
knife, and looked at Havelok. "If I let him go alive," he thought,
"he might work me much woe. He shall die, but not now; I will cast him
in the sea and drown him."
He went thence, and sent for a fisherman named Grim. "Grim," he said,
"you are my thrall; do my will and to-morrow I will give you your
freedom. Take the boy Havelok at night to the sea and cast him
therein."
Grim took the boy, and bound him with strong cords, and bore him on
his back to his cottage, and showed him to his wife Leve. "You see
this boy, wife," said he. "I am to drown him in the sea; when I have
done it, I shall be made a free man, and much gold will be ours; so
has our Lord Godard promised."
When Dame Leve heard that, she started up, and threw Havelok down so
roughly that he hurt his head on a great stone that lay on the ground.
"Alas that ever I was a king's son!" he moaned in his pain; and he lay
there where he fell till night-time.
When night fell Grim made ready for his task. "Rise up, wife, blow
the fire," said he. "Light a candle. I must keep my word to my lord."
Leve rose to tend the fire. Her eyes fell on Havelok, who still lay on
the ground. Round him, she marvelled to see, shone a bright light, and
out of his mouth proceeded light as it were a sunbeam.
"What is that light?" quoth Dame Leve. "Grim, look what it means;
what is this light?"
Grim went to Havelok, and unbound him. He rolled back the shirt from
the boy's shoulder. There he saw, bright and clear, a king's
birthmark.
"Heaven help us," said Grim, "this is the heir to Denmark, who should
be king and lord of us all. He will work Godard great harm." Then he
fell on his knees before Havelok. "Lord king," he said, "have mercy on
me and on Leve here. We are both yours, lord, both your servants. We
will keep you and nurture you till you can ride and bear shield and
spear; Godard shall know nought of it. Some day I will take my freedom
at your hands, not at his."
Then was Havelok blithe and glad. He sat up and asked for bread. "I am
well-nigh dead," he said, "with hunger and hardship."
They fed him and cared for him, and lastly put him to bed; and he
slept soundly. On the morrow Grim went to the traitor Godard. "I have
done your will on the boy, lord," he said. "He is drowned in the
sea. Now I pray you give me gold for a reward, and grant me my
freedom, as you vowed."
Godard looked at him, fierce and cruel of mien. "Will you not rather
be made an earl, proud knave?" he asked. "Go home, fool; go, and be
evermore a thrall and churl, [Footnote: An Ignorant laborer of the
lowest rank.] as you have ever been; no other reward shall be
yours. For very little I would lead you to the gallows for your wicked
deed."
Grim went away. "What shall I do?" he thought as he hurried home. "He
will assuredly hang me on the gallows-tree. It were better to flee out
of the land altogether."
He came home and told Leve all; and they took counsel together. Soon
Grim sold all his possessions. Only his boat he kept; and that he
made ready for a voyage, till there was not so much as a nail wanting
to make it better. Then he took on board his wife and his three sons,
Robert the Red, William Wendat, and Hugh Raven, and his two fair
daughters, Gunnild and Levive, and Havelok; and they set sail.
The wind blew fair behind them, and drove them out to sea. Long did
they sail, and came at last to England, to Lindsey at the mouth of the
Humber. They landed safely; and before long Grim began to make a
little house of clay and turf for them to dwell in. He named the place
after himself, Grimsby; and so men call it now, and shall call it
forever, from now even to doomsday.
HAVELOK MARRIED AGAINST HIS WILL
Retold by F. J. H. Darton
Grim was a skilful fisherman, and caught many good fish. Great baskets
did he make, and others his sons made; and they carried the fish
inland in these baskets, and sold them. All over the country did Grim
go with his fish, and came home always with store of bread, or corn,
or beans, against their need. Much he sold in the fair town of
Lincoln, and counted many a coin after his sales there.
Thus Grim fared for many winters; and Havelok worked with the rest,
thinking it no shame to toil like any thrall, though he was a king's
son born.
There came at last a year of great dearth. Corn was so scarce that all
men were in poverty, and Grim did not know how to feed all his
family. For Havelok he had great dread, for he was strong and lusty,
and would eat more than he could earn. And soon the fish in the sea
also began to fail them, so that they were in sore straits. But Grim
cared more for Havelok than for all his own family; all his thoughts
ran on Havelok.
"Dear son Havelok," he said at last, "we shall die of hunger anon; all
our food is gone. It is better for you to go hence, and strive for
yourself only, and not try to help us here. You are stout and strong;
go to Lincoln; there is many a man of substance there, who might take
you in service. It were better for you to serve there than to see us
starve here and to starve along with us. Would that I could clothe you
fitly! Alas I am too poor. Yet for your sake I will cut up the sail
of my boat and make you a cloak of it to cover your rags."
He took the sail from his boat, and cut it up rudely into a cloak for
Havelok. Then Havelok bade him God-speed, and set out, and came in
time to the city of Lincoln.
He had no friend in Lincoln, and knew no man. For two days he went to
and fro, fasting; no man had work or food for him. But on the third
day he heard a cry, "Porters, porters, hither quickly!" He sprang
forward like a spark from coal, and thrust aside all who stood in his
path; sixteen stout lads did he knock down, and came to where fish was
being laden into carts for Earl Godrich of Cornwall. There stood the
earl's cook, calling for men to load the carts; and Havelok fell to
work with a will at his bidding.
When all was done, "Will you take service with me?" said the cook to
Havelok. "I will pay you good hire and feed you well."
"Give me enough to eat, good sir," answered Havelok, "and I care not
what you pay me. I will blow your fire, and fetch wood and water; I
can wash dishes, and cleave faggots, and clean eels, and do all that
you need."
"You shall be my man," answered the cook.
So Havelok took service in Earl Godrich's household, and drew water
and cut wood. Strong and large was he of body, and fair to look on.
Earl Godrich was lord of all England; it lay as it were in his
hand. Many men were wont to come to him at Lincoln to talk of great
things; and they held a parliament there, and came thither with a
great train of men-at-arms and followers, so that the town was always
full of folk coming and going.
It chanced one day that eight or ten young men began to play together
near where Havelok was at work; they fell to throwing a great stone,
huge and heavy. He must needs be a stout man who could so much as lift
it to his knee. But those who threw it now were champions, and could
cast it many a foot.
Havelok looked on and longed to throw against them; and his master,
seeing his looks, bade him go and try what he could do. He took the
stone and poised it well; and at the first effort he threw it twelve
feet or more farther than any other man.
"We have been here too long," said the rest. "This lad is mightier
than any of us; it is time for us to go hence."
They went away, and spread the news that there was at Lincoln a lad
mightier than any man of that day; and Havelok's fame grew and was
known far and wide. It came at last to Earl Godrich's ears.
"This is a stout knave," thought the earl, when he heard of Havelok's
strength. "I would that he were wedded to Goldborough; he is the
fairest and strongest man in England, and if I gave Goldborough to
him, I should keep my word to Athelwold in some sort, for there is
none like Havelok: no better man could she desire. And if she were
wedded to him, she would be out of my way, and I should be secure in
my rule, and my son should reign in England after me."
Thus he thought and planned secretly. Anon he sent for Goldborough,
and brought her to Lincoln. At her coming he caused bells to be rung,
and there was great rejoicing; but he was nevertheless full of
craft. "You shall have the fairest man alive for husband," he said to
Goldborough; "therefore have I sent for you."
"I will wed no man but a king or a king's son, be he ever so fair,"
she answered boldly.
"Would you gainsay me as if you were queen and lady over me?" cried
Godrich in great wrath. "You shall have a churl for husband, and no
other. My cook's knave shall wed you; he shall be your lord. To-morrow
shall you be wedded to him."
Goldborough wept and prayed his mercy, but it was of no avail. On the
morrow the church-bell was rung, and Godrich sent for Havelok. "Master,
are you minded to marry?" he asked.
"Nay, by my life," quoth Havelok. "What should I do with a wife? I
cannot feed her or clothe her; I have no house and no possessions. The
very clothes I wear are the cook's, and I am his servant."
"If you do not take to wife her whom I will give you," said Godrich,
"I will hang you high aloft, or thrust out your eyes."
At that Havelok was sore afraid, and granted all that Godrich
bade. Then Godrich sent for Goldborough. "You will take this man for
husband," he said, "or you go to the gallows, unless rather I burn you
at the stake."
She was afraid at his threats, and dared not refuse, though she liked
it ill. So they two were wedded perforce, and neither took joy in it.
HAVELOK WINS BACK HIS KINGDOM
Retold by F. J. H. Darton
When they were married, Havelok knew not what to do. He had no home
whereto he might take Goldborough. Godrich had such hatred for
Athelwold's daughter that he would do nought to aid them; and Havelok
was in sore straits till he bethought himself of Grimsby.
Straightway he took Goldborough to Grimsby. But Grim himself was
dead. Nevertheless his sons welcomed Havelok gladly.
"Welcome, dear lord, and welcome to your fair lady," they said. "We
have here horses and nets and ships, gold and silver, and much else
that Grim our father bequeathed. But he bade us give them to you; take
them, dear lord; they are all yours. You shall be our lord, and we
will be your servants in all things."
So Havelok came back to Grimsby. But on the night of his coming
Goldborough was sad and sorrowful as she lay beside him, and she could
not sleep. Her wakeful eyes fell on Havelok, and she was aware
suddenly of a wondrous sight. A bright light, clear and flaming,
issued from his mouth, and lit up all the chamber. "What may this
mean?" she said to herself in sore dread. "Does it show me that some
high fortune shall come upon Havelok?"
She looked again, and saw a new wonder. On Havelok's shoulder a king's
mark shone, a noble cross of red gold; and as she looked, an angel's
voice spoke to her:
"Goldborough, let your sorrow be; Havelok, your husband, is a king's
son and a king's heir. The golden cross signifies that he shall
possess all Denmark and England, and shall be king of both realms."
When she heard the angel's voice Goldborough could not contain her
joy, but turned and kissed Havelok as he slept. Havelok had not heard
the angel, but he started out of his sleep at Goldborough's kiss.
"Dear lady, are you awake?" he said. "A strange dream have I just
dreamed. I thought I was in Denmark, on the highest hill that ever I
came to; it was so high that I could see, it seemed, all the world
spread out. As I sat there, I began to possess Denmark, with all its
towns and strong castles; and my arms were so long that I surrounded
in one grasp all Denmark, and drew it towards me till every man
therein cleaved to me. Another dream I dreamed also, that I flew over
the salt sea to England, and with me went all the folk of Denmark.
When I came to England, I took it all into my hand, and, Goldborough,
I gave it to you. Dear wife, what may this be?"
"May these dreams turn to joy, Havelok, as I deem they will," answered
Goldborough. "I say to you that you shall wear the crown of England in
time to come, and Denmark shall kneel at your feet. Within a year this
shall come to pass. Let us two go to Denmark speedily; and do you
pray Grim's sons that they go with you, all three."
On the morrow Havelok went to church and besought aid of God. Then he
betook himself to Grim's three sons, Robert, and William, and Hugh.
"Listen now to me," he said, "and I will tell you a thing concerning
myself. My father was king of the Danish land, and I should have been
his heir; but a wicked man seized the kingdom when my father died, and
slew my two sisters, and gave me to Grim to drown, but Grim spared me
and brought me hither, as you know. Now I am come to an age when I can
wield weapons and deal stout blows; and never will I take comfort till
I see Denmark again. I pray you come thither with me; I will reward
you well and will give each of you ten castles, with the land and
towns and woods that belong thereto."
"We will follow you whithersoever you bid us, Havelok," they answered,
"and we will, if it please God, win back your kingdom for you."
Havelok gave them due thanks, and began straightway to prepare all
things for his going to Denmark. Soon he had made ready, and they set
sail.
Their voyage prospered, and they landed safely in Denmark, in the
dominions of one Ubbe, a rich earl, who had been a friend of King
Birkabeyn, Havelok's father.
When Havelok heard who was lord of that part of Denmark, he was glad,
and set out to go to Ubbe's castle in good hope. He dared not say yet
that he was Birkabeyn's son, for if Earl Godard heard of it, he would
come against him and slay him before he could win any followers. But
he went to Ubbe and spoke him fair and courteously, and gave him a
gold ring, and asked leave to settle in that land to be a merchant;
and Ubbe, seeing how strong and comely Havelok was, gladly gave him
leave, and thereafter bade him to a great feast. Havelok went to the
feast, and Goldborough with him, and Grim's sons also; and Ubbe grew
to love him so well that when the feast was ended, he sent him with
ten knights and sixty men-at-arms to the magistrate of those parts,
Bernard Brun, a man of might and substance.
Bernard was a trusty man, and entertained Havelok and Goldborough and
all their company well.
But as they sat at meat, there came tidings that a band of sixty
thieves, well armed and fierce, was at the gate, demanding entrance.
At that news Bernard started up and took a good axe in his hand, and
went to the gate; and Havelok followed him.
"What do you here, rascals?" cried Bernard, "If I open the door to
you, some of you will rue it."
"What say you?" answered one of the thieves. "Think you that we are
afraid of you? We shall enter by this gate for all that you can do."
Thereupon he seized a great boulder, and cast it mightily against the
gate, and broke it.
Havelok saw what befell, and went to the gate. He drew therefrom the
great cross-bar, and threw the gate wide open. "I abide here," he
cried. "Flee, you dogs."
"Nay," quoth one, "you shall pay for waiting;" and he came running at
Havelok, and the two others close behind with him. But Havelok lifted
up the door-beam, and at one blow slew all three. Then he turned upon
others, and in a moment overthrew four more. But a host of them beset
him with swords, and all his skill could not prevent them from
wounding him: full twenty wounds had he, from crown to toe. But he
began so to mow with the beam that the robbers soon felt how hard he
could smite. There was none who could escape him, and in a little
while he had felled twenty of them.
Then a great din began to arise, for the rest of the thieves set upon
Havelok and Bernard with all their might. But Hugh and his brothers
heard the noise, and came running with many other men; and before long
there was not one of the thieves left alive.
On the morrow tidings came to Ubbe that Havelok had slain with a club
more than a score of stout rogues. He went down to Bernard and asked
him what had come to pass; and Bernard, sore wounded from the fight,
showed him his wounds, and told him how sixty robbers had attacked his
house, and how Havelok had slain great plenty of them; but Havelok
also, he said, was grievously wounded.
Others also of Bernard's men told the like true tale; and Ubbe sent
for Havelok, and when he had seen his wounds, called for a skilful
leech, and took Havelok into his house and cared for him.
The first night that Havelok lay in Ubbe's house, Ubbe slept nigh him
in a great chamber, with places boarded off for each man. About
midnight he awoke, and saw a great light in the place where Havelok
lay, as bright as if it were day. "What may this be?" he thought. "I
will go myself and see. Perchance Havelok secretly holds revel with
his friends, and has lit many lights. I vow he shall do no such
sottishness in my castle."
He stood up, and peeped in between the boards that shut Havelok from
him. He saw him sleeping fast, as still as any stone; and he was aware
of a great light coming as it were from Havelok's mouth.
He was aghast at that sight, and called secretly to his knights and
sergeants and men-at-arms, more than five score of them, and bade them
come and see the strange light; and the light continued to issue from
Havelok's mouth, and to grow in strength till it was as bright as two
hundred wax-candles.
Havelok's right shoulder was towards Ubbe and his men.
Suddenly, as they looked at the light, they saw the king's mark on the
shoulder, a bright cross, brighter than gold, sparkling like a
carbuncle stone. Then Ubbe knew that Havelok was a king's son, and he
guessed that he must be Birkaheyn's son, the rightful king.
When Havelok awoke, he fell at his feet and did obeisance, he and all
his men. "Dear lord," he said, "I know you to be Birkabeyn's son. You
shall be King of Denmark; right soon shall every lord and baron come
and do you homage." Then was Havelok glad and blithe, and gave thanks
to God for His goodness.
Before long Ubbe dubbed Havelok knight; and as soon as he was knighted
all the barons and lords of those parts came to him and swore fealty;
and anon they crowned him King of Denmark, and set themselves in array
to attack the false Earl Godard.
But Godard's knights, being weary of his rule, had all gone over to
Havelok; and Grim's son, Robert, sufficed to meet him in combat.
Robert wounded him in the right arm, and they bound him and brought
him before Havelok.
Sorry now was Godard's lot; all his greatness was gone from him. He
came before Havelok and his nobles, and they gave sentence upon him,
that he should be flayed alive, and then hanged. And so he came to his
end in great misery and torment.
When Godrich in England heard that Havelok was king of all Denmark,
and purposed (for Havelok had given out that this was his intent) to
come to England and set Goldborough on her throne, he set to work to
gather a great host to meet Havelok when he should come; and he spread
lying tales to make the English hate and fear Havelok, saying that he
would burn and destroy, and oppress them; and by these means he got
together many and led them to Grimsby.
Afron came Havelok and his men, and landed at Grimsby; and they fought
a great battle. All that day Havelok's men fought with Godrich's men;
and on the morrow they fought again, and Godrich came face to face
with Havelok himself.
"Godrich," Havelok cried, "you have taken Athelwold's kingdom for
yourself; I claim it for his daughter Goldborough. Yield it up, and I
will forgive you, for you are a doughty knight."
"Never will I yield," answered Godrich: "I will slay you here."
He gripped his sword, and smote at Havelok, and clove his shield in
twain. But Havelok drew his own good sword, and with one blow felled
him to the earth. Yet Godrich started up again, and dealt him such a
stroke on the shoulder that his armour was broken, and the blade bit
into the flesh. Then Havelok heaved up his sword in turn, and struck
fiercely, and shore off Godrich's hand, so that he could smite no
more, but yielded as best he might.
They seized Godrich and fettered him; and all the English took the
oath of fealty to Goldborough, and swore to be her men. Then they
passed judgment on Godrich, and sentenced him to be burnt to death.
So Havelok and Goldborough came again into their kingdoms; and Havelok
rewarded Grim's sons and made them barons. Havelok was crowned King of
England as well as of Denmark; and full sixty winters did he reign
with Goldborough in great joy and prosperity.
THE FAIR UNKNOWN
Retold by F. J. H. Darton
Sir Gawain had a son, and he was fair to look on, bright of face and
well-favoured in body. He was named Geynleyn. But for love of his fair
face his mother called him Beau-fys, and no other name; and he never
asked her what he was truly called, for Sir Gawain had wedded this
lady secretly, and none knew that he was Geynleyn's father. On a
certain day Geynleyn went to the woods to hunt the deer, and there he
found a knight in gay armour, lying slain. Geynleyn wondered thereat;
but in a little time he took off the knight's garments, and clad
himself in the rich armour; and when he had done this, he went to
Glastonbury, where King Arthur lay at that time. He came into the hall
before the knights and greeted them.
"King Arthur, my lord," he said, "grant that I may speak a word, I
pray you. I would fain be made a knight."
"Tell me your name," answered King Arthur, "for since I was born I
never saw before me one so fair to look on."
"I know not what is my true name," answered the lad. "While I was at
home, my mother, jesting, called me Beau-fys, and nought else."
Then said Arthur the king, "This is a wondrous thing, that the boy
should know not his name when he would become a knight; and yet he is
full fair of face. Now will I give him a name before you all. Let him
be called Le Beau Disconus, which is to say, 'The fair unknown': so is
he to be named." Thereupon King Arthur made him a knight, and gave
him bright arms, and girt him with a sword, and hung round him a
shield wrought with the design of a griffin. Sir Gawain took charge of
him to teach him knightly ways.
When Le Beau Disconus had been made a knight, he asked yet another
boon of the king. "My lord," he said, "I should be right glad in heart
if I might have the first fight that is asked of you."
"I grant your asking," answered Arthur the king, "whatsoever the
combat be. But you seem too young to do well in a great fight."