_The First Mole in Cornwall; a Morality from the Stowe of Morwenna, in
the Rocky Land._--A lonely life for the dark and silent mole! She glides
along her narrow vaults, unconscious of the glad and glorious scenes of
earth, and air, and sea! She was born, as it were, in a grave, and in
one long living sepulchre she dwells and dies! Is not existence to her a
kind of doom? Wherefore is she thus a dark, sad exile from the blessed
light of day? Hearken! Here, in our own dear Cornwall, the first mole
was a lady of the land! Her abode was in the far west, among the hills
of Morwenna, beside the Severn sea. She was the daughter of a lordly
race, the only child of her mother, and the father of the house was
dead. Her name was Alice of the Lea. Fair was she and comely, tender and
tall; and she stood upon the threshold of her youth. But most of all did
men wonder at the glory of her large blue eyes. They were, to look upon,
like the summer waters, when the sea is soft with light! They were to
her mother a joy, and to the maiden herself--ah! benedicite--a pride.
She trusted in the loveliness of those eyes, and in her face, and
features, and form: and so it was that the damsel was wont to pass the
summer's day, in the choice of rich apparel, and precious stones, and
gold. Howbeit this was one of the ancient and common customs of those
old departed days. Now, in the fashion of her stateliness, and in the
hue and texture of her garments, there was none among the maidens of old
Cornwall like Alice of the Lea. Men sought her far and nigh, but she was
to them all, like a form of graven stone, careless and cold. Her soul
was set upon a Granville's love, fair Sir Bevil of Stowe, the flower of
the Cornish chivalry--that noble gentleman! that valorous knight! He was
her star. And well might she wait upon his eyes; for he was the garland
of the west--the loyal soldier of a sainted king. He was that stately
Granville who lived a hero-life, and died a warrior's death!
Now there was signal made of banquet in the halls of Stowe, of wassail,
and the dance. The messengers had sped, and Alice of the Lea would be
there. Robes, precious and many, were unfolded from their rest, and the
casket poured forth jewel and gem, that the maiden might stand before
the knight victorious! It was the day--the hour--the time. Her mother
sate by her wheel at the hearth. The page waited in the hall. She came
down in her loveliness into the old oak room, and stood before the
mirrored glass. Her robe was of woven velvet, rich, and glossy, and
soft; jewels shone like stars in the midnight of her raven hair, and on
her hand there gleamed, afar off, a bright and glorious ring! She {226}
stood--she gazed upon her own countenance and form, and worshipped! "Now
all good angels succour thee, dear Alice, and bend Sir Bevil's soul!
Fain am I to see thee a wedded wife, before I die! I yearn to hold thy
children on my knee! Often shall I pray to-night that the Granville
heart may yield! Thy victory shall be my prayer!"
"Prayer!" was the haughty answer; "with the eyes that I see in that
glass, and this vesture meet for a queen, I lack no doubting prayer!"
Saint Mary shield us! Ah words of evil soul! There was a shriek--a
sob--a cry: and where was Alice of the Lea? Vanished--gone. They had
heard wild tones of sudden music in the air. There was a rush--a beam of
light--and she was gone, and that for ever! East sought they her, and
west, in northern paths and south; but she was never more seen in the
lands. Her mother wept till she had not a tear left; none sought to
comfort her, for it was vain. Moons waxed and waned, and the crones by
the cottage-hearth had whiled away many a shadowy night with tales of
Alice of the Lea.
But, at the last, as the gardener in the Pleasance leaned one day on his
spade, he saw among the roses a small round hillock of earth, such as he
had never seen before, and upon it something which shone. It was her
ring! It was the very jewel she had worn the day she vanished out of
sight! They looked earnestly upon it, and they saw within the border
(for it was wide) the tracery of certain small fine letters in the
ancient Cornish tongue, which said,--
"Beryan Erde,
Oyn und Perde!"
Then came the priest of the Place of Morwenna, a gray and silent man! He
had served long years at a lonely altar, a bent and solitary form. But
he had been wise in the language of his youth, and he read the legend
thus--
"The earth must hide
Both eyes and pride!"
Now, as he uttered these words, they stood in the Pleasance by the
mound; and on a sudden there was a low faint cry! They beheld, and O
wondrous and strange! there was a small dark creature, clothed in a soft
velvet skin, in texture and in hue like the Lady Alice her robe; and
they saw, as it went into the earth, that it moved along without eyes,
in everlasting night. Then the ancient priest wept, for he called to
mind all these things, and saw what they meant; and he showed them how
this was the maiden, who had been visited with doom for her pride.
Therefore her rich array had been changed into the skin of a creeping
thing and her large proud eyes were sealed up; and she herself had
become
The first mole!
Of the hillocks of Cornwall!
Ah! woe is me! and well-a-day! that damsel so stately and fair, sweet
Lady Alice of the Lea, should be made for a judgement--the dark mother
of the moles!
Now take ye good heed, Cornish maidens, how ye put on vain apparel, to
win love. And cast down your eyes, all ye damsels of the west, and look
ye meekly on the ground! Be ye good and gentle, tender and true; and
when ye see your image in the glass, and begin to be lifted up with the
beauty of that shadowy thing, call to mind the maiden of Morwenna, her
noble eyes and comely countenance, the vesture of price and the
glittering ring. Sit ye by the wheel, as of old they sate and as ye draw
the lengthening wool, sing ye ever-more and say,
"Beryan Erde,
Oyn and Perde!"
* * * * *
"A whistling Wife" &c.--I can supply another version of the couplet
quoted in "Folk Lore" (Vol. ii., p. 164.), which has the merit of being
more rhymical and mysterious. In what district it was current I know
not.
"A whistling wife and a crowing hen
Will call the old gentleman out of his den."