The Origin of the Story
The Danish occupation of England has left a very strong mark on our
country in various ways--on its place-names, its racial
characteristics, its language, its literature, and, in part, on its
ideals. The legend of Havelok the Dane, with its popularity and
widespread influence, is one result of Danish supremacy. It is thought
that the origin of the legend, which contains a twofold version of the
common story of the cruel guardian and the persecuted heir, is to be
found in Wales; but, however that may be, it is certain that in the
continual rise and fall of small tribal kingdoms, Celtic or Teutonic,
English or Danish, the circumstances out of which the story grew must
have been common enough. Kings who died leaving helpless heirs to the
guardianship of ambitious and wicked nobles were not rare in the early
days of Britain, Wales, or Denmark; the murder of the heir and the
usurpation of the kingdom by the cruel regent were no unusual
occurrences. The opportunity of localising the early legend seems to
have come with the growing fame of Anlaf, or Olaf, Sihtricson, who was
known to the Welsh as Abloec or Habloc. His adventurous life included
a threefold expulsion from his inheritance of Northumbria, a marriage
with the daughter of King Constantine III. of Scotland, and a family
kinship with King Athelstan of England. In Anlaf Curan (as he was
called) we have an historical hero on whom various romantic stories
were gradually fathered, because of his adventurous life and his
strong personality. These stories finally crystallized in a form which
shows the English and Danish love of physical prowess (Havelok is the
strongest man in the kingdom), as well as a certain cruelty of
revenge which is more peculiarly Danish. There is resentment of the
Norman predominance to be found in the popularity of a story which
shows the kitchen-boy excelling all the nobles in manly exercises, and
the heiress to the kingdom wedded in scorn, as so many Saxon heiresses
were after the Conquest, to a mere scullion. There can be no doubt,
however, that Havelok stood to mediaeval England as a hero of the
strong arm, a champion of the populace against the ruling race, and
that his royal birth and dignity were a concession to historic facts
and probabilities, not much regarded by the common people. The story,
again, showed another truly humble hero, Grim the fisher, whose
loyalty was supposed to account for the special trading privileges of
his town, Grimsby. In Grim the story found a character who was in
reality a hero of the poor and lowly, with the characteristic devotion
of the tribesman to his chief, of the vassal to his lord, a devotion
which was handed on from father to son, so that a second generation
continued the services, and received the rewards, of the father who
risked life and all for the sake of his king's heir.
The reader will not fail to notice the characteristic anachronisms
which give to life in Saxon England in the tenth century the colour of
the Norman chivalry of the thirteenth.
Havelok and Godard
In Denmark, long ago, lived a good king named Birkabeyn, rich and
powerful, a great warrior and a man of mighty prowess, whose rule was
undisputed over the whole realm. He had three children--two daughters,
named Swanborow and Elfleda the Fair, and one young and goodly son,
Havelok, the heir to all his dominions. All too soon came the day
that no man can avoid, when Death would call King Birkabeyn away, and
he grieved sore over his young children to be left fatherless and
unprotected; but, after much reflection, and prayers to God for wisdom
to help his choice, he called to him Jarl Godard, a trusted counsellor
and friend, and committed into his hands the care of the realm and of
the three royal children, until Havelok should be of age to be
knighted and rule the land himself. King Birkabeyn felt that such a
charge was too great a temptation for any man unbound by oaths of
fealty and honour, and although he did not distrust his friend, he
required Godard to swear,
"By altar and by holy service book,
By bells that call the faithful to the church,
By blessed sacrament, and sacred rites,
By Holy Rood, and Him who died thereon,
That thou wilt truly rule and keep my realm,
Wilt guard my babes in love and loyalty,
Until my son be grown, and dubbed knight:
That thou wilt then resign to him his land,
His power and rule, and all that owns his sway."
Jarl Godard took this most solemn oath at once with many protestations
of affection and whole-hearted devotion to the dying king and his
heir, and King Birkabeyn died happy in the thought that his children
would be well cared for during their helpless youth.
When the funeral rites were celebrated Jarl Godard assumed the rule of
the country, and, under pretext of securing the safety of the royal
children, removed them to a strong castle, where no man was allowed
access to them, and where they were kept so closely that the royal
residence became a prison in all but name. Godard, finding Denmark
submit to his government without resistance, began to adopt measures
to rid himself of the real heirs to the throne, and gave orders that
food and clothes should be supplied to the three children in such
scanty quantities that they might die of hardship; but since they were
slow to succumb to this cruel, torturing form of murder, he resolved
to slay them suddenly, knowing that no one durst call him to account.
Having steeled his heart against all pitiful thoughts, he went to the
castle, and was taken to the inner dungeon where the poor babes lay
shivering and weeping for cold and hunger. As he entered, Havelok, who
was even then a bold lad, greeted him courteously, and knelt before
him, with clasped hands, begging a boon.
"Why do you weep and wail so sore?" asked Godard.
"Because we are so hungry," answered Havelok. "We have so little food,
and we have no servants to wait on us; they do not give us half as
much as we could eat; we are shivering with cold, and our clothes are
all in rags. Woe to us that we were ever born! Is there in the land no
more corn with which men can make bread for us? We are nearly dead
from hunger."
These pathetic words had no effect on Godard, who had resolved to
yield to no pity and show no mercy. He seized the two little girls as
they lay cowering together, clasping one another for warmth, and cut
their throats, letting the bodies of the hapless babies fall to the
floor in a pool of blood; and then, turning to Havelok, aimed his
knife at the boy's heart. The poor child, terrified by the awful fate
of the two girls, knelt again before him and begged for mercy:
"Fair lord, have mercy on me now, I pray!
Look on my helpless youth, and pity me!
Oh, let me live, and I will yield you all--
My realm of Denmark will I leave to you,
And swear that I will ne'er assail your sway.
Oh, pity me, lord! be compassionate!
And I will flee far from this land of mine,
And vow that Birkabeyn was ne'er my sire!"
Jarl Godard was touched by Havelok's piteous speech, and felt some
faint compassion, so that he could not slay the lad himself; yet he
knew that his only safety was in Havelok's death.
"If I let him go," thought he, "Havelok will at last work me woe! I
shall have no peace in my life, and my children after me will not hold
the lordship of Denmark in safety, if Havelok escapes! Yet I cannot
slay him with my own hands. I will have him cast into the sea with an
anchor about his neck: thus at least his body will not float."
Godard left Havelok kneeling in terror, and, striding from the tower,
leaving the door locked behind him, he sent for an ignorant fisherman,
Grim, who, he thought, could be frightened into doing his will. When
Grim came he was led into an ante-room, where Godard, with terrible
look and voice, addressed him thus:
"Grim, thou knowest thou art my thrall." "Yea, fair lord," quoth Grim,
trembling at Godard's stern voice. "And I can slay thee if thou dost
disobey me." "Yea, lord; but how have I offended you?" "Thou hast not
yet; but I have a task for thee, and if thou dost it not, dire
punishment shall fall upon thee." "Lord, what is the work that I must
do?" asked the poor fisherman. "Tarry: I will show thee." Then Godard
went into the inner room of the tower, whence he returned leading a
fair boy, who wept bitterly. "Take this boy secretly to thy house, and
keep him there till dead of night; then launch thy boat, row out to
sea, and fling him therein with an anchor round his neck, so that I
shall see him never again."
Grim looked curiously at the weeping boy, and said: "What reward
shall I have if I work this sin for you?"
Godard replied: "The sin will be on my head as I am thy lord and bid
thee do it; but I will make thee a freeman, noble and rich, and my
friend, if thou wilt do this secretly and discreetly."
Thus reassured and bribed, Grim suddenly took the boy, flung him to
the ground, and bound him hand and foot with cord which he took from
his pockets. So anxious was he to secure the boy that he drew the
cords very tight, and Havelok suffered terrible pain; he could not cry
out, for a handful of rags was thrust into his mouth and over his
nostrils, so that he could hardly breathe. Then Grim flung the poor
boy into a horrible black sack, and carried him thus from the castle,
as if he were bringing home broken food for his family. When Grim
reached his poor cottage, where his wife Leve was waiting for him, he
slung the sack from his shoulder and gave it to her, saying, "Take
good care of this boy as of thy life. I am to drown him at midnight,
and if I do so my lord has promised to make me a free man and give me
great wealth."
When Dame Leve heard this she sprang up and flung the lad down in a
corner, and nearly broke his head with the crash against the earthen
floor. There Havelok lay, bruised and aching, while the couple went to
sleep, leaving the room all dark but for the red glow from the fire.
At midnight Grim awoke to do his lord's behest, and Dame Leve, going
to the living-room to kindle a light, was terrified by a mysterious
gleam as bright as day which shone around the boy on the floor and
streamed from his mouth. Leve hastily called Grim to see this wonder,
and together they released Havelok from the gag and bonds and
examined his body, when they found on the right shoulder the token of
true royalty, a cross of red gold.
"God knows," quoth Grim, "that this is the heir of our land. He will
come to rule in good time, will bear sway over England and Denmark,
and will punish the cruel Godard." Then, weeping sore, the loyal
fisherman fell down at Havelok's feet, crying, "Lord, have mercy on me
and my wife! We are thy thralls, and never will we do aught against
thee. We will nourish thee until thou canst rule, and will hide thee
from Godard; and thou wilt perchance give me my freedom in return for
thy life."
At this unexpected address Havelok sat up surprised, and rubbed his
bruised head and said: "I am nearly dead, what with hunger, and thy
cruel bonds, and the gag. Now bring me food in plenty!" "Yea, lord,"
said Dame Leve, and bustled about, bringing the best they had in the
hut; and Havelok ate as if he had fasted for three days; and then he
was put to bed, and slept in peace while Grim watched over him.
[Illustration: "Havelok sat up surprised"]
However, Grim went the next morning to Jarl Godard and said: "Lord, I
have done your behest, and drowned the boy with an anchor about his
neck. He is safe, and now, I pray you, give me my reward, the gold and
other treasures, and make me a freeman as you have promised." But
Godard only looked fiercely at him and said: "What, wouldst thou be an
earl? Go home, thou foul churl, and be ever a thrall! It is enough
reward that I do not hang thee now for insolence, and for thy wicked
deeds. Go speedily, else thou mayst stand and palter with me too
long." And Grim shrank quietly away, lest Godard should slay him for
the murder of Havelok.
Now Grim saw in what a terrible plight he stood, at the mercy of this
cruel and treacherous man, and he took counsel with himself and
consulted his wife, and the two decided to flee from Denmark to save
their lives. Gradually Grim sold all his stock, his cattle, his nets,
everything that he owned, and turned it into good pieces of gold; then
he bought and secretly fitted out and provisioned a ship, and at last,
when all was ready, carried on board Havelok (who had lain hidden all
this time), his own three sons and two daughters; then when he and his
wife had gone on board he set sail, and, driven by a favourable wind,
reached the shores of England.
Goldborough and Earl Godrich
Meanwhile in England a somewhat similar fate had befallen a fair
princess named Goldborough. When her father, King Athelwold, lay dying
all his people mourned, for he was the flower of all fair England for
knighthood, justice, and mercy; and he himself grieved sorely for the
sake of his little daughter, soon to be left an orphan. "What will she
do?" moaned he. "She can neither speak nor walk! If she were only able
to ride, to rule England, and to guard herself from shame, I should
have no grief, even if I died and left her alone, while I lived in the
joy of paradise!"
Then Athelwold summoned a council to be held at Winchester, and asked
the advice of the nobles as to the care of the infant Goldborough.
They with one accord recommended Earl Godrich of Cornwall to be made
regent for the little princess; and the earl, on being appointed,
swore with all solemn rites that he would marry her at twelve years
old to the highest, the best, fairest, and strongest man alive, and in
the meantime would train her in all royal virtues and customs. So
King Athelwold died, and was buried with great lamentations, and
Godrich ruled the land as regent. He was a strict but just governor,
and England had great peace, without and within, under his severe
rule, for all lived in awe of him, though no man loved him.
Goldborough grew and throve in all ways, and became famous through the
land for her gracious beauty and gentle and virtuous demeanour. This
roused the jealousy of Earl Godrich, who had played the part of king
so long that he almost believed himself King of England, and he began
to consider how he could secure the kingdom for himself and his son.
Thereupon he had Goldborough taken from Winchester, where she kept
royal state, to Dover, where she was imprisoned in the castle, and
strictly secluded from all her friends; there she remained, with poor
clothes and scanty food, awaiting a champion to uphold her right.
Havelok Becomes Cook's Boy
When Grim sailed from Denmark to England he landed in the Humber, at
the place now called Grimsby, and there established himself as a
fisherman. So successful was he that for twelve years he supported his
family well, and carried his catches of fish far afield, even to
Lincoln, where rare fish always brought a good price. In all this time
Grim never once called on Havelok for help in the task of feeding the
family; he reverenced his king, and the whole household served Havelok
with the utmost deference, and often went with scanty rations to
satisfy the boy's great appetite. At length Havelok began to think how
selfishly he was living, and how much food he consumed, and was filled
with shame when he realized how his foster-father toiled unweariedly
while he did nothing to help. In his remorseful meditations it became
clear to him that, though a king's son, he ought to do some useful
work. "Of what use," thought he, "is my great strength and stature if
I do not employ it for some good purpose? There is no shame in honest
toil. I will work for my food, and try to make some return to Father
Grim, who has done so much for me. I will gladly bear his baskets of
fish to market, and I will begin to-morrow."
On the next day, in spite of Grim's protests Havelok carried a load of
fish equal to four men's burden to Grimsby market, and sold it
successfully, returning home with the money he received; and this he
did day by day, till a famine arose and fish and food both became
scarce. Then Grim, more concerned for Havelok than for his own
children, called the youth to him and bade him try his fortunes in
Lincoln, for his own sake and for theirs; he would be better fed, and
the little food Grim could get would go further among the others if
Havelok were not there. The one obstacle in the way was Havelok's lack
of clothes, and Grim overcame that by sacrificing his boat's sail to
make Havelok a coarse tunic. That done, they bade each other farewell,
and Havelok started for Lincoln, barefooted and bareheaded, for his
only garment was the sailcloth tunic. In Lincoln Havelok found no
friends and no food for two days, and he was desperate and faint with
hunger, when he heard a call: "Porters, porters! hither to me!" Roused
to new vigour by the chance of work, Havelok rushed with the rest, and
bore down and hurled aside the other porters so vigorously that he was
chosen to carry provisions for Bertram, the earl's cook; and in return
he received the first meal he had eaten for nearly three days.
On the next day Havelok again overthrew the porters, and, knocking
down at least sixteen, secured the work. This time he had to carry
fish, and his basket was so laden that he bore nearly a cartload,
with which he ran to the castle. There the cook, amazed at his
strength, first gave him a hearty meal, and then offered him good
service under himself, with food and lodging for his wages. This offer
Havelok accepted, and was installed as cook's boy, and employed in all
the lowest offices--carrying wood, water, turf, hewing logs, lifting,
fetching, carrying--and in all he showed himself a wonderfully strong
worker, with unfailing good temper and gentleness, so that the little
children all loved the big, gentle, fair-haired youth who worked so
quietly and played with them so merrily. When Havelok's old tunic
became worn out, his master, the cook, took pity on him and gave him a
new suit, and then it could be seen how handsome and tall and strong a
youth this cook's boy really was, and his fame spread far and wide
round Lincoln Town.
[Illustration: "Havelok again overthrew the porters"]
Havelok and Goldborough
At the great fair of Lincoln, sports of all kinds were indulged in,
and in these Havelok took his part, for the cook, proud of his mighty
scullion, urged him to compete in all the games and races. As Earl
Godrich had summoned his Parliament to meet that year at Lincoln,
there was a great concourse of spectators, and even the powerful Earl
Regent himself sometimes watched the sports and cheered the champions.
The first contest was "putting the stone," and the stone chosen was so
weighty that none but the most stalwart could lift it above the
knee--none could raise it to his breast. This sport was new to
Havelok, who had never seen it before, but when the cook bade him try
his strength he lifted the stone easily and threw it more than twelve
feet. This mighty deed caused his fame to be spread, not only among
the poor servants with whom Havelok was classed, but also among the
barons, their masters, and Havelok's Stone became a landmark in
Lincoln. Thus Godrich heard of a youth who stood head and shoulders
taller than other men and was stronger, more handsome--and yet a mere
common scullion. The news brought him a flash of inspiration: "Here is
the highest, strongest, best man in all England, and him shall
Goldborough wed. I shall keep my vow to the letter, and England must
fall to me, for Goldborough's royal blood will be lost by her marriage
with a thrall, the people will refuse her obedience, and England will
cast her out."
Godrich therefore brought Goldborough to Lincoln, received her with
bell-ringing and seemly rejoicing, and bade her prepare for her
wedding. This the princess refused to do until she knew who was her
destined husband, for she said she would wed no man who was not of
royal birth. Her firmness drove Earl Godrich to fierce wrath, and he
burst out: "Wilt thou be queen and mistress over me? Thy pride shall
be brought down: thou shalt have no royal spouse: a vagabond and
scullion shalt thou wed, and that no later than to-morrow! Curses on
him who speaks thee fair!" In vain the princess wept and bemoaned
herself: the wedding was fixed for the morrow morn.
The next day at dawn Earl Godrich sent for Havelok, the mighty cook's
boy, and asked him: "Wilt thou take a wife?"
"Nay," quoth Havelok, "that will I not. I cannot feed her, much less
clothe and lodge her. My very garments are not my own, but belong to
the cook, my master." Godrich fell upon Havelok and beat him
furiously, saying, "Unless thou wilt take the wench I give thee for
wife I will hang or blind thee"; and so, in great fear, Havelok agreed
to the wedding. At once Goldborough was brought, and forced into an
immediate marriage, under penalty of banishment or burning as a witch
if she refused. And thus the unwilling couple were united by the
Archbishop of York, who had come to attend the Parliament.
Never was there so sad a wedding! The people murmured greatly at this
unequal union, and pitied the poor princess, thus driven to wed a man
of low birth; and Goldborough herself wept pitifully, but resigned
herself to God's will. All men now acknowledged with grief that she
and her husband could have no claim to the English throne, and thus
Godrich seemed to have gained his object. Havelok and his unwilling
bride recognised that they would not be safe near Godrich, and as
Havelok had no home in Lincoln to which he could take the princess, he
determined to go back to his faithful foster-father, Grim, and put the
fair young bride under his loyal protection. Sorrowfully, with grief
and shame in their hearts, Havelok and Goldborough made their way on
foot to Grimsby, only to find the loyal Grim dead; but his five
children were alive and in prosperity. When they saw Havelok and his
wife they fell on their knees and saluted them with all respect and
reverence. In their joy to see their king again, these worthy
fisherfolk forgot their newly won wealth, and said: "Welcome, dear
lord, and thy fair lady! What joy is ours to see thee again, for thy
subjects are we, and thou canst do with us as thou wilt. All that we
have is thine, and if thou wilt dwell with us we will serve thee and
thy wife truly in all ways!" This greeting surprised Goldborough, who
began to suspect some mystery, and she was greatly comforted when
brothers and sisters busied themselves in lighting fires, cooking
meals, and waiting on her hand and foot, as if she had been indeed a
king's wife. Havelok, however, said nothing to explain the mystery,
and Goldborough that night lay awake bewailing her fate as a thrall's
bride, even though he was the fairest man in England.
The Revelation and Return to Denmark
As Goldborough lay sleepless and unhappy she became aware of a
brilliant light shining around Havelok and streaming from his mouth;
and while she feared and wondered an angelic voice cried to her:
"Fair Princess, cease this grief and heavy moan!
For Havelok, thy newly wedded spouse,
Is son and heir to famous kings: the sign
Thou findest in the cross of ruddy gold
That shineth on his shoulder. He shall be
Monarch and ruler of two mighty realms;
Denmark and England shall obey his rule,
And he shall sway them with a sure command.
This shalt thou see with thine own eyes, and be
Lady and Queen, with Havelok, o'er these lands."
This angelic message so gladdened Goldborough that she kissed, for the
first time, her unconscious husband, who started up from his sleep,
saying, "Dear love, sleepest thou? I have had a wondrous dream. I
thought I sat on a lofty hill, and saw all Denmark before me. As I
stretched out my arms I embraced it all, and the people clung to my
arms, and the castles fell at my feet; then I flew over the salt sea
with the Danish people clinging to me, and I closed all fair England
in my hand, and gave it to thee, dear love! Now what can this mean?"
Goldborough answered joyfully: "It means, dear heart, that thou shalt
be King of Denmark and of England too: all these realms shall fall
into thy power, and thou shalt be ruler in Denmark within one year.
Now do thou follow my advice, and let us go to Denmark, taking with us
Grim's three sons, who will accompany thee for love and loyalty; and
have no fear, for I know thou wilt succeed."
The next morning Havelok went to church early, and prayed humbly and
heartily for success in his enterprise and retribution on the false
traitor Godard; then, laying his offering on the altar before the
Cross, he went away glad in heart. Grim's three sons, Robert the Red,
William Wendut, and Hugh the Raven, joyfully consented to go with
Havelok to Denmark, to attack with all their power the false Jarl
Godard and to win the kingdom for the rightful heir. Their wives and
families stayed in England, but Goldborough would not leave her
husband, and after a short voyage the party landed safely on the
shores of Denmark, in the lands of Jarl Ubbe, an old friend of King
Birkabeyn, who lived far from the court now that a usurper held sway
in Denmark.
Havelok and Ubbe
Havelok dared not reveal himself and his errand until he knew more of
the state of parties in the country, and he therefore only begged
permission to live and trade there, giving Ubbe, as a token of
goodwill and a tribute to his power, a valuable ring, which the jarl
prized greatly. Ubbe, gazing at the so-called merchant's great stature
and beauty, lamented that he was not of noble birth, and planned to
persuade him to take up the profession of arms. At first, however, he
simply granted Havelok permission to trade, and invited him and
Goldborough to a feast, promising them safety and honour under his
protection. Havelok dreaded lest his wife's beauty might place them in
jeopardy, but he dared not refuse the invitation, which was pointedly
given to both; accordingly, when they went to Ubbe's hall, Goldborough
was escorted by Robert the Red and William Wendut.
Ubbe received them with all honour, and all men marvelled at
Goldborough's beauty, and Ubbe's wife loved Goldborough at first sight
as her husband did Havelok, so that the feast passed off with all joy
and mirth, and none dared raise a hand or lift his voice against the
wandering merchant whom Ubbe so strangely favoured. But Ubbe knew that
when once Havelok and his wife were away from his protection there
would be little safety for them, since the rough Danish nobles would
think nothing of stealing a trader's fair wife, and many a man had
cast longing eyes on Goldborough's loveliness. Therefore when the
feast was over, and Havelok took his leave, Ubbe sent with him a body
of ten knights and sixty men-at-arms, and recommended them to the
magistrate of the town, Bernard Brown, a true and upright man, bidding
him, as he prized his life, keep the strangers in safety and honour.
Well it was that Ubbe and Bernard Brown took these precautions, for
late at night a riotous crowd came to Bernard's house clamouring for
admittance. Bernard withstood the angry mob, armed with a great axe,
but they burst the door in by hurling a huge stone; and then Havelok
joined in the defence. He drew out the great beam which barred the
door, and crying, "Come quickly to me, and you shall stay here! Curses
on him who flees!" began to lay about him with the big beam, so that
three fell dead at once. A terrible fight followed, in which Havelok,
armed only with the beam, slew twenty men in armour, and was then sore
beset by the rest of the troop, aiming darts and arrows at his
unarmoured breast. It was going hardly with him, when Hugh the Raven,
hearing and understanding the cries of the assailants, called his
brothers to their lord's aid, and they all joined the fight so
furiously that, long ere day, of the sixty men who had attacked the
inn not one remained alive.
In the morning news was brought to Jarl Ubbe that his stranger
guest had slain sixty of the best of his soldiery.
"What can this mean?" said Ubbe. "I had better go and see to it
myself, for any messenger would surely treat Havelok discourteously,
and I should be full loath to do that." He rode away to the house of
Bernard Brown, and asked the meaning of its damaged and battered
appearance.
"My lord," answered Bernard Brown, "last night at moonrise there came
a band of sixty thieves who would have plundered my house and bound me
hand and foot. When Havelok and his companions saw it they came to my
aid, with sticks and stones, and drove out the robbers like dogs from
a mill. Havelok himself slew three at one blow. Never have I seen a
warrior so good! He is worth a thousand in a fray. But alas! he is
grievously wounded, with three deadly gashes in side and arm and
thigh, and at least twenty smaller wounds. I am scarcely harmed at
all, but I fear he will die full soon."
Ubbe could scarcely believe so strange a tale, but all the bystanders
swore that Bernard told nothing but the bare truth, and that the whole
gang of thieves, with their leader, Griffin the Welshman, had been
slain by the hero and his small party. Then Ubbe bade them bring
Havelok, that he might call a leech to heal his wounds, for if the
stranger merchant should live Jarl Ubbe would without fail dub him
knight; and when the leech had seen the wounds he said the patient
would make a good and quick recovery. Then Ubbe offered Havelok and
his wife a dwelling in his own castle, under his own protection, till
Havelok's grievous wounds were healed. There, too, fair Goldborough
would be under the care of Ubbe's wife, who would cherish her as her
own daughter. This kind offer was accepted gladly, and they all went
to the castle, where a room was given them next to Ubbe's own.
At midnight Ubbe woke, aroused by a bright light in Havelok's room,
which was only separated from his own by a slight wooden partition. He
was vexed suspecting his guest of midnight wassailing, and went to
inquire what villainy might be hatching. To his surprise, both husband
and wife were sound asleep, but the light shone from Havelok's mouth,
and made a glory round his head. Utterly amazed at the marvel, Ubbe
went away silently, and returned with all the garrison of his castle
to the room where his guests still lay sleeping. As they gazed on the
light Havelok turned in his sleep, and they saw on his shoulder the
golden cross, shining like the sun, which all men knew to be the token
of royal birth. Then Ubbe exclaimed: "Now I know who this is, and why
I loved him so dearly at first sight: this is the son of our dead King
Birkabeyn. Never was man so like another as this man is to the dead
king: he is his very image and his true heir." With great joy they
fell on their knees and kissed him eagerly, and Havelok awoke and
began to scowl furiously, for he thought it was some treacherous
attack; but Ubbe soon undeceived him.
[Illustration: "With great joy they fell on their knees"]
"'Dear lord,' quoth he, 'be thou in naught dismayed,
For in thine eyes methinks I see thy thought--
Dear son, great joy is mine to live this day!
My homage, lord, I freely offer thee:
Thy loyal men and vassals are we all,
For thou art son of mighty Birkabeyn,
And soon shalt conquer all thy father's land,
Though thou art young and almost friendless here.
To-morrow will we swear our fealty due,
And dub thee knight, for prowess unexcelled.'"
Now Havelok knew that his worst danger was over, and he thanked God
for the friend He had sent him, and left to the good Jarl Ubbe the
management of his cause. Ubbe gathered an assembly of as many mighty
men of the realm, and barons, and good citizens, as he could summon;
and when they were all assembled, pondering what was the cause of this
imperative summons, Ubbe arose and said:
"Gentles, bear with me if I tell you first things well known to you.
Ye know that King Birkabeyn ruled this land until his death-day, and
that he left three children--one son, Havelok, and two daughters--to
the guardianship of Jarl Godard: ye all heard him swear to keep them
loyally and treat them well. But ye do not know how he kept his oath!
The false traitor slew both the maidens, and would have slain the boy,
but for pity he would not kill the child with his own hands. He bade a
fisherman drown him in the sea; but when the good man knew that it was
the rightful heir, he saved the boy's life and fled with him to
England, where Havelok has been brought up for many years. And now,
behold! here he stands. In all the world he has no peer, and ye may
well rejoice in the beauty and manliness of your king. Come now and
pay homage to Havelok, and I myself will be your leader!"
Jarl Ubbe turned to Havelok, where he stood with Goldborough beside
him, and knelt before him to do homage, an example which was followed
by all present. At a second and still larger assembly held a fortnight
later a similar oath of fealty was sworn by all, Havelok was dubbed
knight by the noble Ubbe, and a great festival was celebrated, with
sports and amusements for the populace. A council of war and vengeance
was held with the great nobles.
The Death of Godard
Havelok, now acknowledged King of Denmark, was unsatisfied until he had
punished the treacherous Godard, and he took a solemn oath from his
soldiers that they would never cease the search for the traitor till
they had captured him and brought him bound to judgment. After all,
Godard was captured as he was hunting. Grim's three sons, now knighted
by King Havelok, met him in the forest, and bade him come to the king,
who called on him to remember and account for his treatment of
Birkabeyn's children. Godard struck out furiously with his fists, but
Sir Robert the Red wounded him in the right arm. When Godard's men
joined in the combat, Robert and his brothers soon slew ten of their
adversaries, and the rest fled; returning, ashamed at the bitter
reproaches of their lord, they were all slain by Havelok's men. Godard
was taken, bound hand and foot, placed on a miserable jade with his
face to the tail, and so led to Havelok. The king refused to be the
judge of his own cause, and entrusted to Ubbe the task of presiding at
the traitor's trial. No mercy was shown to the cruel Jarl Godard, and
he was condemned to a traitor's death, with torments of terrible
barbarity. The sentence was carried out to the letter, and Denmark
rejoiced in the punishment of a cruel villain.
Death of Godrich
Meanwhile Earl Godrich of Cornwall had heard with great uneasiness
that Havelok had become King of Denmark, and intended to invade
England with a mighty army to assert his wife's right to the throne.
He recognised that his own device to shame Goldborough had turned
against him, and that he must now fight for his life and the usurped
dominion he held over England. Godrich summoned his army to Lincoln
for the defence of the realm against the Danes, and called out every
man fit to bear weapons, on pain of becoming thrall if they failed
him. Then he thus addressed them:
"Friends, listen to my words, and you will know
'Tis not for sport, nor idle show, that I
Have bidden you to meet at Lincoln here.
Lo! here at Grimsby foreigners are come
Who have already won the Priory.
These Danes are cruel heathen, who destroy
Our churches and our abbeys: priests and nuns
They torture to the death, or lead away
To serve as slaves the haughty Danish jarls.
Now, Englishmen, what counsel will ye take?
If we submit, they will rule all our land,
Will kill us all, and sell our babes for thralls,
Will take our wives and daughters for their own.
Help me, if ever ye loved English land,
To fight these heathen and to cleanse our soil
From hateful presence of these alien hordes.
I make my vow to God and all the saints
I will not rest, nor houseled be, nor shriven,
Until our realm be free from Danish foe!
Accursed be he who strikes no blow for home!"
The army was inspired with valour by these courageous words, and the
march to Grimsby began at once, with Earl Godrich in command.
Havelok's men marched out gallantly to meet them, and when the battle
joined many mighty deeds of valour were done, especially by the king
himself, his foster-brothers, and Jarl Ubbe. The battle lasted long
and was very fierce and bloody, but the Danes gradually overcame the
resistance of the English, and at last, after a great hand-to-hand
conflict, King Havelok captured Godrich. The traitor earl, who had
lost a hand in the fray, was sent bound and fettered to Queen
Goldborough, who kept him, carefully guarded, until he could be tried
by his peers, since (for all his treason) he was still a knight.
When the English recognised their rightful lady and queen they did
homage with great joy, begging mercy for having resisted their lawful
ruler at the command of a wicked traitor; and the king and queen
pardoned all but Godrich, who was speedily brought to trial at
Lincoln. He was sentenced to be burnt at the stake, and the sentence
was carried out amid general rejoicings.
Now that vengeance was satisfied, Havelok and his wife thought of
recompensing the loyal helpers who had believed in them and supported
them through the long years of adversity. Havelok married one of
Grim's daughters to the Earl of Chester, and the other to Bertram, the
good cook, who became Earl of Cornwall in the place of the felon
Godrich and his disinherited children; the heroic Ubbe was made Regent
of Denmark for Havelok, who decided to stay and rule England, and all
the noble Danish warriors were rewarded with gifts of gold, and lands
and castles. After a great coronation feast, which lasted for forty
days, King Havelok dismissed the Danish regent and his followers, and
after sad farewells they returned to their own country. Havelok and
Goldborough ruled England in peace and security for sixty years, and
lived together in all bliss, and had fifteen children, who all became
mighty kings and queens.