Introduction
Among the hero-legends which are considered to be of native English
growth and to have come down to us from the times of the Danish
invasions is the story of King Horn; but although "King Horn," like
"Havelok the Dane," was originally a story of Viking raids, it has
been so altered that the Norse element has been nearly obliterated. In
all but the bare circumstances of the tale, "King Horn" is a romance
of chivalry, permeated with the Crusading spirit, and reflecting the
life and customs of the thirteenth century, instead of the more
barbarous manners of the eighth or ninth centuries. The hero's desire
to obtain knighthood and do some deed worthy of the honour, the
readiness to leave his betrothed for long years at the call of honour
or duty, the embittered feeling against the Saracens, are all typical
of the romance of the Crusades. Another curious point which shows a
later than Norse influence is the wooing of the reluctant youth by the
princess, of which there are many instances in mediaeval literature; it
reveals a consciousness of feudal rank which did not exist in early
times, and a certain recognition of the privileges of royal birth
which were not granted before the days of romantic chivalry. King Horn
himself is a hero of the approved chivalric type, whose chief
distinguishing feature is his long indifference to the misfortunes of
the sorely-tried princess to whom he was betrothed.
The Royal Family of Suddene
There once lived and ruled in the pleasant land of Suddene a noble
king named Murry, whose fair consort, Queen Godhild, was the most
sweet and gentle lady alive, as the king was a pattern of all
knightly virtues. This royal pair had but one child, a son, named
Horn, now twelve years old, who had been surrounded from his birth
with loyal service and true devotion. He had a band of twelve chosen
companions with whom he shared sports and tasks, pleasures and griefs,
and the little company grew up well trained in chivalrous exercises
and qualities. Childe Horn had his favourites among the twelve. Athulf
was his dearest friend, a loving and devoted companion; and next to
him in Horn's affection stood Fikenhild, whose outward show of love
covered his inward envy and hatred. In everything these two were
Childe Horn's inseparable comrades, and it seemed that an equal bond
of love united the three.
The Saracen Invasion
One day as King Murry was riding over the cliffs by the sea with only
two knights in attendance he noticed some unwonted commotion in a
little creek not far from where he was riding, and he at once turned
his horse's head in that direction and galloped down to the shore. On
his arrival in the small harbour he saw fifteen great ships of strange
build, and their crews, Saracens all armed for war, had already
landed, and were drawn up in warlike array. The odds against the king
were terrible, but he rode boldly to the invaders and asked: "What
brings you strangers here? Why have you sought our land?" A Saracen
leader, gigantic of stature, spoke for them all and replied: "We are
here to win this land to the law of Mahomet and to drive out the
Christian law. We will slay all the inhabitants that believe on
Christ. Thou thyself shalt be our first conquest, for thou shalt not
leave this place alive." Thereupon the Saracens attacked the little
band, and though the three Christians fought valiantly they were soon
slain. The Saracens then spread over the land, slaying, burning, and
pillaging, and forcing all who loved their lives to renounce the
Christian faith and become followers of Mahomet. When Queen Godhild
heard of her husband's death and saw the ruin of her people she fled
from her palace and all her friends and betook herself to a solitary
cave, where she lived unknown and undiscovered, and continued her
Christian worship while the land was overrun with pagans. Ever she
prayed that God would protect her dear son, and bring him at last to
his father's throne.
[Illustration: Queen Godhild prays ever for her son Horn]
Horn's Escape
Soon after the king's death the Saracens had captured Childe Horn and
his twelve comrades, and the boys were brought before the pagan emir.
They would all have been slain at once or flayed alive, but for the
beauty of Childe Horn, for whose sake their lives were spared. The old
emir looked keenly at the lads, and said: "Horn, thou art a bold and
valiant youth, of great stature for thine age, and of full strength,
yet I know thou hast not yet reached thy full growth. If we release
thee with thy companions, in years to come we shall dearly rue it, for
ye will become great champions of the Christian law and will slay many
of us. Therefore ye must die. But we will not slay you with our own
hands, for ye are noble lads, and shall have one feeble chance for
your lives. Ye shall be placed in a boat and driven out to sea, and if
ye all are drowned we shall not grieve overmuch. Either ye must die or
we, for I know we shall dearly abide your king's death if ye youths
survive." Thereupon the lads were all taken to the shore, and, weeping
and lamenting, were thrust into a rudderless boat, which was towed
out to sea and left helpless.
Arrival in Westernesse
The other boys sat lamenting and bewailing their fate, but Childe
Horn, looking round the boat, found a pair of oars, and as he saw that
the boat was in the grasp of some strong current he rowed in the same
direction, so that the boat soon drifted out of sight of land. The
other lads were a dismal crew, for they thought their death was
certain, but Horn toiled hard at his rowing all night, and with the
dawn grew so weary that he rested for a little on his oars. When the
rising sun made things clear, and he could see over the crests of the
waves, he stood up in the boat and uttered a cry of joy. "Comrades,"
cried he, "dear friends, I see land not far away. I hear the sweet
songs of birds and see the soft green grass. We have come to some
unknown land and have saved our lives." Then Athulf took up the glad
tidings and began to cheer the forlorn little crew, and under Horn's
skilful guidance the little boat grounded gently and safely on the
sands of Westernesse. The boys sprang on shore, all but Childe Horn
having no thought of the past night and the journey; but he stood by
the boat, looking sadly at it.
Farewell to the Boat
"'Boat,' quoth he, 'which hast borne me on my way,
Have thou good days beside a summer sea!
May never wave prevail to sink thee deep!
Go, little boat, and when thou comest home
Greet well my mother, mournful Queen Godhild;
Tell her, frail skiff, her dear son Horn is safe.
Greet, too, the pagan lord, Mahomet's thrall,
The bitter enemy of Jesus Christ,
And bid him know that I am safe and well.
Say I have reached a land beyond the sea,
Whence, in God's own good time, I will return
Then he shall feel my vengeance for my sire.'"
Then sorrowfully he pushed the boat out into the ocean, and the ebbing
tide bore it away, while Horn and his companions set their faces
resolutely towards the town they could see in the distance.
King Ailmar and Childe Horn
As the little band were trudging wearily towards the town they saw a
knight riding towards them, and when he came nearer they became aware
that he must be some noble of high rank. When he halted and began to
question them, Childe Horn recognised by his tone and bearing that
this must be the king. So indeed it was, for King Ailmar of
Westernesse was one of those noble rulers who see for themselves the
state of their subjects and make their people happy by free,
unrestrained intercourse with them. When the king saw the forlorn
little company he said: "Whence are ye, fair youths, so strong and
comely of body? Never have I seen so goodly a company of thirteen
youths in the realm of Westernesse. Tell me whence ye come, and what
ye seek." Childe Horn assumed the office of spokesman, for he was
leader by birth, by courage, and by intellect. "We are lads of noble
families in Suddene, sons of Christians and of men of lofty station.
Pagans have taken the land and slain our parents, and we boys fell
into their hands. These heathen have slain and tortured many Christian
men, but they had pity upon us, and put us into an old boat with no
sail or rudder. So we drifted all night, until I saw your land at
dawn, and our boat came to the shore. Now we are in your power, and
you may do with us what you will, but I pray you to have pity on us
and to feed us, that we may not perish utterly."
Ailmar's Decision
King Ailmar was touched as greatly by the simple boldness of the
spokesman as by the hapless plight of the little troop, and he
answered, smiling: "Thou shalt have nought but help and comfort, fair
youth. But, I pray thee, tell me thy name." Horn answered readily:
"King, may all good betide thee! I am named Horn, and I have come
journeying in a boat on the sea--now I am here in thy land." King
Ailmar replied: "Horn! That is a good name: mayst thou well enjoy it.
Loud may this Horn sound over hill and dale till the blast of so
mighty a Horn shall be heard in many lands from king to king, and its
beauty and strength be known in many countries. Horn, come thou with
me and be mine, for I love thee and will not forsake thee."
Childe Horn at Court
The king rode home, and all the band of stranger youths followed him
on foot, but for Horn he ordered a horse to be procured, so that the
lad rode by his side; and thus they came back to the court. When they
entered the hall he summoned his steward, a noble old knight named
Athelbrus, and gave the lads in charge to him, saying, "Steward, take
these foundlings of mine, and train them well in the duties of pages,
and later of squires. Take especial care with the training of Childe
Horn, their chief; let him learn all thy knowledge of woodcraft and
fishing, of hunting and hawking, of harping and singing; teach him how
to carve before me, and to serve the cup solemnly at banquets; make
him thy favourite pupil and train him to be a knight as good as
thyself. His companions thou mayst put into other service, but Horn
shall be my own page, and afterwards my squire." Athelbrus obeyed the
king's command, and the thirteen youths soon found themselves set to
learn the duties of court life, and showed themselves apt scholars,
especially Childe Horn, who did his best to satisfy the king and his
steward on every point.
The Princess Rymenhild
When Childe Horn had been at court for six years, and was now a
squire, he became known to all courtiers, and all men loved him for
his gentle courtesy and his willingness to do any service. King Ailmar
made no secret of the fact that Horn was his favourite squire, and the
Princess Rymenhild, the king's fair daughter, loved him with all her
heart. She was the heir to the throne, and no man had ever gainsaid
her will, and now it seemed to her unreasonable that she should not be
allowed to wed a good and gallant youth whom she loved. It was
difficult for her to speak alone with him, for she had six maiden
attendants who waited on her continually, and Horn was engaged with
his duties either in the hall, among the knights, or waiting on the
king. The difficulties only seemed to increase her love, and she grew
pale and wan, and looked miserable. It seemed to her that if she
waited longer her love would never be happy, and in her impatience she
took a bold step.
Athelbrus Deceives the Princess
She kept her chamber, called a messenger, and said to him: "Go quickly
to Athelbrus the steward, and bid him come to me at once. Tell him to
bring with him the squire Childe Horn, for I am lying ill in my room,
and would be amused. Say I expect them quickly, for I am sad in mind,
and have need of cheerful converse." The messenger bowed, and,
withdrawing, delivered the message exactly as he had received it to
Athelbrus, who was much perplexed thereby. He wondered whence came
this sudden illness, and what help Childe Horn could give. It was an
unusual thing for the squire to be asked into a lady's bower, and
still more so into that of a princess, and Athelbrus had already felt
some suspicion as to the sentiments of the royal lady towards the
gallant young squire. Considering all these things, the cautious
steward deemed it safer not to expose young Horn to the risks that
might arise from such an interview, and therefore induced Athulf to
wait upon the princess and to endeavour to personate his more
distinguished companion. The plan succeeded beyond expectation in the
dimly lighted room, and the infatuated princess soon startled the
unsuspecting squire by a warm and unreserved declaration of her
affection. Recovering from his natural amazement, he modestly
disclaimed a title to the royal favour and acknowledged his identity.
On discovering her mistake the princess was torn by conflicting
emotions, but finally relieved the pressure of self-reproach and the
confusion of maiden modesty by overwhelming the faithful steward with
denunciation and upbraiding, until at last, in desperation, the poor
man promised, against his better judgment, to bring about a meeting
between his love-lorn mistress and the favoured squire.
Athelbrus Summons Horn
When Rymenhild understood that Athelbrus would fulfil her desire she
was very glad and joyous; her sorrow was turned into happy
expectation, and she looked kindly upon the old steward as she said:
"Go now quickly, and send him to me in the afternoon. The king will
go to the wood for sport and pastime, and Horn can easily remain
behind; then he can stay with me till my father returns at eve. No one
will betray us; and when I have met my beloved I care not what men may
say."
Then the steward went down to the banqueting-hall, where he found
Childe Horn fulfilling his duties as cup-bearer, pouring out and
tasting the red wine in the king's golden goblet. King Ailmar asked
many questions about his daughter's health, and when he learnt that
her malady was much abated he rose in gladness from the table and
summoned his courtiers to go with him into the greenwood. Athelbrus
bade Horn tarry, and when the gay throng had passed from the hall the
steward said gravely: "Childe Horn, fair and courteous, my beloved
pupil, go now to the bower of the Princess Rymenhild, and stay there
to fulfil all her commands. It may be thou shalt hear strange things,
but keep rash and bold words in thy heart, and let them not be upon
thy tongue. Horn, dear lad, be true and loyal now, and thou shalt
never repent it."
Horn and Rymenhild
Horn listened to this unusual speech with great astonishment, but,
since Sir Athelbrus spoke so solemnly, he laid all his words to heart,
and thus, marvelling greatly, departed to the royal bower. When he had
knocked at the door, and had been bidden to come in, entering, he
found Rymenhild sitting in a great chair, intently regarding him as he
came into the room. He knelt down to make obeisance to her, and kissed
her hand, saying, "Sweet be thy life and soft thy slumbers, fair
Princess Rymenhild! Well may it be with thy gentle ladies of honour! I
am here at thy command, lady, for Sir Athelbrus the steward, bade me
come to speak with thee. Tell me thy will, and I will fulfil all thy
desires." She arose from her seat, and, bending towards him as he
knelt, took him by the hand and lifted him up, saying, "Arise and sit
beside me, Childe Horn, and we will drink this cup of wine together."
In great astonishment the youth did as the princess bade, and sat
beside her, and soon, to his utter amazement, Rymenhild avowed her
love for him, and offered him her hand. "Have pity on me, Horn, and
plight me thy troth, for in very truth I love thee, and have loved
thee long, and if thou wilt I will be thy wife."
Horn Refuses the Princess
Now Horn was in evil case, for he saw full well in what danger he
would place the princess, Sir Athelbrus, and himself if he accepted
the proffer of her love. He knew the reason of the steward's warning,
and tried to think what he might say to satisfy the princess and yet
not be disloyal to the king. At last he replied: "Christ save and keep
thee, my lady Rymenhild, and give thee joy of thy husband, whosoever
he may be! I am too lowly born to be worthy of such a wife; I am a
mere foundling, living on thy father's bounty. It is not in the course
of nature that such as I should wed a king's daughter, for there can
be no equal match between a princess and a landless squire."
Rymenhild was so disheartened and ashamed at this reply to her loving
appeal that her colour changed, she turned deadly pale, began to sigh,
flung her arms out wildly, and fell down in a swoon. Childe Horn
lifted her up, full of pity for her deep distress, and began to
comfort her and try to revive her. As he held her in his arms he
kissed her often, and said:
"'Lady, dear love, take comfort and be strong!
For I will yield me wholly to thy guidance
If thou wilt compass one great thing for me.
Plead with King Ailmar that he dub me knight,
That I may prove me worthy of thy love.
Soon shall my knighthood be no idle dream,
And I will strive to do thy will, dear heart.'"
Now at these words Rymenhild awoke from her swoon, and made him repeat
his promise. She said: "Ah! Horn, that shall speedily be done. Ere the
week is past thou shalt be Sir Horn, for my father loves thee, and
will grant the dignity most willingly to one so dear to him. Go now
quickly to Sir Athelbrus, give him as a token of my gratitude this
golden goblet and this ring; pray him that he persuade the king to dub
thee knight. I will repay him with rich rewards for his gentle
courtesy to me. May Christ help him to speed thee in thy desires!"
Horn then took leave of Rymenhild with great affection, and found
Athelbrus, to whom he delivered the gifts and the princess's message,
which the steward received with due reverence.
Horn Becomes a Knight
This plan seemed to Athelbrus very good, for it raised Horn to be a
member of the noble Order of Knights, and would give him other chances
of distinguishing himself. Accordingly he went to the king as he sat
over the evening meal, and spoke thus: "Sir King, hear my words, for I
have counsel for thee. To-morrow is the festival of thy birth, and the
whole realm of Westernesse must rejoice in its master's joy. Wear thou
thy crown in solemn state, and I think it were nought amiss if thou
shouldst knight young Horn, who will become a worthy defender of thy
throne." "That were well done," said King Ailmar. "The youth pleases
me, and I will knight him with my own sword. Afterwards he shall
knight his twelve comrades the same day."
The next day the ceremony of knighting was performed with all
solemnity, and at its close a great banquet was prepared and all men
made merry. But Princess Rymenhild was somewhat sad. She could not
descend to the hall and take her customary place, for this was a feast
for knights alone, and she would not be without her betrothed one
moment longer, so she sent a messenger to fetch Sir Horn to her bower.
Horn and Athulf Go to Rymenhild
Now that Horn was a newly dubbed knight he would not allow the
slightest shadow of dishonour to cloud his conduct; accordingly, when
he obeyed Rymenhild's summons he was accompanied by Athulf. "Welcome,
Sir Horn and Sir Athulf," she cried, holding out her hands in
greeting. "Love, now that thou hast thy will, keep thy plighted word
and make me thy wife; release me from my anxiety and do as thou hast
said."
"'Dear Rymenhild, hold thou thyself at peace,'
Quoth young Sir Horn; 'I will perform my vow.
But first I must ride forth to prove my might;
Must conquer hardships, and my own worse self,
Ere I can hope to woo and wed my bride.
We are but new-fledged knights of one day's growth,
And yet we know the custom of our state
Is first to fight and win a hero's name,
Then afterwards to win a lady's heart.
This day will I do bravely for thy love
And show my valour and my deep devotion
In prowess 'gainst the foes of this thy land.
If I come back in peace, I claim my wife.'"
Rymenhild protested no longer, for she saw that where honour was
concerned Horn was inflexible. "My true knight," said she, "I must in
sooth believe thee, and I feel that I may. Take this ring engraved
with my name, wrought by the most skilled worker of our court, and
wear it always, for it has magic virtues. The gems are of such saving
power that thou shalt fear no strokes in battle, nor ever be cast down
if thou gaze on this ring and think of thy love. Athulf, too, shall
have a similar ring. And now, Horn, I commend thee to God, and may
Christ give thee good success and bring thee back in safety!"
Horn's First Exploit
After taking an affectionate farewell of Rymenhild, Horn went down to
the hall, and, seeing all the other new-made knights going in to the
banquet, he slipped quietly away and betook himself to the stables.
There he armed himself secretly and mounted his white charger, which
pranced and reared joyfully as he rode away; and Horn began to sing
for joy of heart, for he had won his chief desire, and was happy in
the love of the king's daughter. As he rode by the shore he saw a
stranger ship drawn up on the beach, and recognised the banner and
accoutrements of her Saracen crew, for he had never forgotten the
heathens who had slain his father. "What brings you here?" he asked
angrily, and as fearlessly as King Murry had done, and received the
same answer: "We will conquer this land and slay the inhabitants."
Then Horn's anger rose, he gripped his sword, and rushed boldly at the
heathens, and slew many of them, striking off a head at each blow. The
onslaught was so sudden that the Saracens were taken by surprise at
first, but then they rallied and surrounded Horn, so that matters
began to look dangerous for him. Then he remembered the betrothal
ring, and looked on it, thinking earnestly of Rymenhild, his dear
love, and such courage came to him that he was able to defeat the
pagans and slay their leader. The others, sorely wounded--for none
escaped unhurt--hurried on board ship and put to sea, and Horn,
bearing the Saracen leader's head on his sword's point, rode back to
the royal palace. Here he related to King Ailmar this first exploit of
his knighthood, and presented the head of the foe to the king, who
rejoiced greatly at Horn's valour and success.
[Illustration: Horn kills the Saracen leader]
Rymenhild's Dream
The next day the king and all the court rode out hunting, but Horn
made an excuse to stay behind with the princess, and the false and
wily Fikenhild was also left at home, and he crept secretly to
Rymenhild's bower to spy on her. She was sitting weeping bitterly when
Sir Horn entered. He was amazed. "Love, for mercy's sake, why weepest
thou so sorely?" he asked; and she replied: "I have had a mournful
dream. I dreamt that I was casting a net and had caught a great fish,
which began to burst the net. I greatly fear that I shall lose my
chosen fish." Then she looked sadly at Horn. But the young knight was
in a cheery mood, and replied: "May Christ and St. Stephen turn thy
dream to good! If I am thy fish, I will never deceive thee nor do
aught to displease thee, and hereto I plight thee my troth. But I
would rather interpret thy dream otherwise. This great fish which
burst thy net is some one who wishes us ill, and will do us harm
soon." Yet in spite of Horn's brave words it was a sad betrothal, for
Rymenhild wept bitterly, and her lover could not stop her tears.
Fikenhild's False Accusation
Fikenhild had listened to all their conversation with growing envy
and anger, and now he stole away silently, and met King Ailmar
returning from the chase.
"'King Ailmar,' said the false one, 'see, I bring
A needed warning, that thou guard thyself,
For Horn will take thy life; I heard him vow
To slay thee, or by sword or fire, this night.
If thou demand what cause of hate he has,
Know that the villain wooes thine only child,
Fair Rymenhild, and hopes to wear thy crown.
E'en now he tarries in the maiden's bower,
As he has often done, and talks with her
With guileful tongue, and cunning show of love.
Unless thou banish him thou art not safe
In life or honour, for he knows no law.'"
The king at first refused to believe the envious knight's report, but,
going to Rymenhild's bower, he found apparent confirmation, for Horn
was comforting the princess, and promising to wed her when he should
have done worthy feats of arms. The king's wrath knew no bounds, and
with words of harsh reproach he banished Horn at once, on pain of
death. The young knight armed himself quickly and returned to bid
farewell to his betrothed.
Horn's Banishment
"Dear heart," said he, "now thy dream has come true, and thy fish must
needs break the net and be gone. The enemy whom I foreboded has
wrought us woe. Farewell, mine own dear Rymenhild; I may no longer
stay, but must wander in alien lands. If I do not return at the end of
seven years take thyself a husband and tarry no longer for me. And now
take me in your arms and kiss me, dear love, ere I go!" So they kissed
each other and bade farewell, and Horn called to him his comrade
Athulf, saying, "True and faithful friend, guard well my dear love.
Thou hast never forsaken me; now do thou keep Rymenhild for me." Then
he rode away, and, reaching the haven, hired a good ship and sailed
for Ireland, where he took service with King Thurston, under the name
of Cuthbert. In Ireland he became sworn brother to the king's two
sons, Harold and Berild, for they loved him from the first moment they
saw him, and were in no way jealous of his beauty and valour.
Horn Slays the Giant Emir
When Christmas came, and King Thurston sat at the banquet with all his
lords, at noontide a giant strode into the hall, bearing a message of
defiance. He came from the Saracens, and challenged any three Irish
knights to fight one Saracen champion. If the Irish won the pagans
would withdraw from Ireland; if the Irish chiefs were slain the
Saracens would hold the land. The combat was to be decided the next
day at dawn. King Thurston accepted the challenge, and named Harold,
Berild, and Cuthbert (as Horn was called) as the Christian champions,
because they were the best warriors in Ireland; but Horn begged
permission to speak, and said: "Sir King, it is not right that one man
should fight against three, and one heathen hound think to resist
three Christian warriors. I will fight and conquer him alone, for I
could as easily slay three of them." At last the king allowed Horn to
attempt the combat alone, and spent the night in sorrowful musing on
the result of the contest, while Horn slept well and arose and armed
himself cheerily. He then aroused the king, and the Irish troop rode
out to a fair and level green lawn, where they found the emir with
many companions awaiting them. The combat began at once, and Horn gave
blows so mighty that the pagan onlookers fell swooning through very
fear, till Horn said: "Now, knights, rest for a time, if it pleases
you." Then the Saracens spoke together, saying aloud that no man had
ever so daunted them before except King Murry of Suddene.
This mention of his dead father aroused Horn, who now realized that he
saw before him his father's murderers. His anger was kindled, he
looked at his ring and thought of Rymenhild, and then, drawing his
sword again, he rushed at the heathen champion. The giant fell pierced
through the heart, and his companions fled to their ships, hotly
pursued by Horn and his company. Much fighting there was, and in the
hot strife near the ships the king's two sons, Harold and Berild, were
both slain.
Horn Refuses the Throne
Sadly they were laid on a bier and brought back to the palace, their
sorrowful father lamenting their early death; and when he had wept his
fill the mournful king came into the hall where all his knights
silently awaited him. Slowly he came up to Horn as he sat a little
apart from the rest, and said: "Cuthbert, wilt thou fulfil my desire?
My heirs are slain, and thou art the best knight in Ireland for
strength and beauty and valour; I implore thee to wed Reynild, my only
daughter (now, alas! my only child), and to rule my realm. Wilt thou
do so, and lift the burden of my cares from my weary shoulders?" But
Horn replied: "O Sir King, it were wrong for me to receive thy fair
daughter and heir and rule thy realm, as thou dost offer. I shall do
thee yet better service, my liege, before I die; and I know that thy
grief will change ere seven years have passed away. When that time is
over, Sir King, give me my reward: thou shalt not refuse me thy
daughter when I desire her." To this King Thurston agreed, and Horn
dwelt in Ireland for seven years, and sent no word or token to
Rymenhild all the time.
Rymenhild's Distress
In the meantime Princess Rymenhild was in great perplexity and
trouble, for a powerful ruler, King Modi of Reynes, wooed her for his
wife, and her own betrothed sent her no token of his life or love. Her
father accepted the new suitor for her hand, and the day of the
wedding was fixed, so that Rymenhild could no longer delay her
marriage. In her extremity she besought Athulf to write letters to
Horn, begging him to return and claim his bride and protect her; and
these letters she delivered to several messengers, bidding them search
in all lands until they found Sir Horn and gave the letters into his
own hand. Horn knew nought of this, till one day in the forest he met
a weary youth, all but exhausted, who told how he had sought Horn in
vain. When Horn declared himself, the youth broke out into loud
lamentations over Rymenhild's unhappy fate, and delivered the letter
which explained all her distress. Now it was Horn's turn to weep
bitterly for his love's troubles, and he bade the messenger return to
his mistress and tell her to cease her tears, for Horn would be there
in time to rescue her from her hated bridegroom. The youth returned
joyfully, but as his boat neared the shore of Westernesse a storm
arose and the messenger was drowned; so that Rymenhild, opening her
tower door to look for expected succour, found her messenger lying
dead at the foot of the tower, and felt that all hope was gone. She
wept and wrung her hands, but nothing that she could do would avert
the evil day.
Horn and King Thurston
As soon as Horn had read Rymenhild's letter he went to King Thurston
and revealed the whole matter to him. He told of his own royal
parentage, his exile, his knighthood, his betrothal to the princess,
and his banishment; then of the death of the Saracen leader who had
slain King Murry, and the vengeance he had taken. Then he ended:
"'King Thurston, be thou wise, and grant my boon;
Repay the service I have yielded thee;
Help me to save my princess from this woe.
I will take counsel for fair Reynild's fate,
For she shall wed Sir Athulf, my best friend,
My truest comrade and my doughtiest knight.
If ever I have risked my life for thee
And proved myself in battle, grant my prayer.'"
To this the king replied: "Childe Horn, do what thou wilt."
Horn Returns on the Wedding-day
Horn at once invited Irish knights to accompany him to Westernesse to
rescue his love from a hateful marriage, and many came eagerly to
fight in the cause of the valiant Cuthbert who had defended Ireland
for seven years. Thus it was with a goodly company that Horn took
ship, and landed in King Ailmar's realm; and he came in a happy hour,
for it was the wedding-day of Princess Rymenhild and King Modi of
Reynes. The Irish knights landed and encamped in a wood, while Horn
went on alone to learn tidings. Meeting a palmer, he asked the news,
and the palmer replied: "I have been at the wedding of Princess
Rymenhild, and a sad sight it was, for the bride was wedded against
her will, vowing she had a husband though he is a banished man. She
would take no ring nor utter any vows; but the service was read, and
afterwards King Modi took her to a strong castle, where not even a
palmer was given entrance. I came away, for I could not endure the
pity of it. The bride sits weeping sorely, and if report be true her
heart is like to break with grief."
Horn Is Disguised as a Palmer
"Come, palmer," said Horn, "lend me your cloak and scrip. I must see
this strange bridal, and it may be I shall make some there repent of
the wrong they have done to a helpless maiden. I will essay to enter."
The change was soon made, and Horn darkened his face and hands as if
bronzed with Eastern suns, bowed his back, and gave his voice an old
man's feebleness, so that no man would have known him; which done, he
made his way to King Modi's new castle. Here he begged admittance for
charity's sake, that he might share the broken bits of the wedding
feast; but he was churlishly refused by the porter, who would not be
moved by any entreaties. At last Horn lost all patience, and broke
open the door, and threw the porter out over the drawbridge into the
moat; then, once more assuming his disguise, he made his way into the
hall and sat down in the beggars' row.
The Recognition
Rymenhild was weeping still, and her stern husband seemed only angered
by her tears. Horn looked about cautiously, but saw no sign of Athulf,
his trusted comrade; for he was at this time eagerly looking for his
friend's coming from the lofty watch-tower, and lamenting that he
could guard the princess no longer. At last, when the banquet was
nearly over, Rymenhild rose to pour out wine for the guests, as the
custom was then; and she bore a horn of ale or wine along the benches
to each person there. Horn, sitting humbly on the ground, called out:
"Come, courteous Queen, turn to me, for we beggars are thirsty folk."
Rymenhild smiled sadly, and, setting down the horn, filled a bowl with
brown ale, for she thought him a drunkard. "Here, drink this, and more
besides, if thou wilt; I never saw so bold a beggar," she said. But
Horn refused. He handed the bowl to the other beggars, and said:
"Lady, I will drink nought but from a silver cup, for I am not what
you think me. I am no beggar, but a fisher, come from afar to fish at
thy wedding feast. My net lies near by, and has lain there for seven
years, and I am come to see if it has caught any fish. Drink to me,
and drink to Horn from thy horn, for far have I journeyed."
When the palmer spoke of fishing, and his seven-year-old net,
Rymenhild felt cold at heart; she did not recognise him, but wondered
greatly when he bade her drink "to Horn." She filled her cup and gave
it to the palmer, saying, "Drink thy fill, and then tell me if thou
hast ever seen Horn in thy wanderings." As the palmer drank, he
dropped his ring into the cup; then he returned it to Rymenhild,
saying, "Queen, seek out what is in thy draught." She said nothing
then, but left the hall with her maidens and went to her bower, where
she found the well-remembered ring she had given to Horn in token of
betrothal. Greatly she feared that Horn was dead, and sent for the
palmer, whom she questioned as to whence he had got the ring.
Horn's Stratagem
Horn thought he would test her love for him, since she had not
recognised him, so he replied: "By St. Giles, lady, I have wandered
many a mile, far into realms of the West, and there I found Sir Horn
ready prepared to sail home to your land. He told me that he planned
to reach the realm of Westernesse in time to see you before seven
years had passed, and I embarked with him. The winds were favourable
and we had a quick voyage, but, alas! he fell ill and died. When he
lay dying he begged me piteously, 'Take this ring, from which I have
never been parted, to my dear lady Rymenhild,' and he kissed it many
times and pressed it to his breast. May God give his soul rest in
Paradise!"
When Rymenhild heard those terrible tidings she sighed deeply and
said: "O heart, burst now, for thou shalt never more have Horn, for
love of whom thou hast been tormented so sorely!" Then she fell upon
her bed, and grasped the dagger which she had concealed there; for if
Horn did not come in time she had planned to slay both her hateful
lord and herself that very night. Now, in her misery, she set the
dagger to her heart, and would have slain herself at once, had not the
palmer interrupted her. Rushing forward, he exclaimed: "Dear Queen and
lady, I am Horn, thine own true love. Dost thou not recognise me? I am
Childe Horn of Westernesse. Take me in thy arms, dear love, and kiss
me welcome home." As Rymenhild stared incredulously at him, letting
the dagger fall from her trembling hand, he hurriedly cast away his
disguise, brushed off the disfiguring stain he had put on his cheeks,
and stood up straight and strong, her own noble knight and lover. What
joy they had together! How they told each other of all their
adventures and troubles, and how they embraced and kissed each other!
Horn Slays King Modi
When their joy had become calmer, Horn said to his lady: "Dear
Rymenhild, I must leave thee now, and return to my knights, who are
encamped in the forest. Within an hour I will return to the feast and
give the king and his guests a stern lesson." Then he flung away the
palmer's cloak, and went forth in knightly array; while the princess
went up to the watch-tower, where Athulf still scanned the sea for
some sign of Horn's coming. Rymenhild said: "Sir Athulf, true friend,
go quickly to Horn, for he has arrived, and with him he brings a great
army." The knight gladly hastened to the courtyard, mounted his steed,
and soon overtook Horn. They were greatly rejoiced to meet again, and
had much to tell each other and to plan for that day's work.
In the evening Horn and his army reached the castle, where they found
the gates undone for them by their friends within, and in a short but
desperate conflict King Modi and all the guests at the banquet were
slain, except Rymenhild, her father, and Horn's twelve comrades. Then
a new wedding was celebrated, for King Ailmar durst not refuse his
daughter to the victor, and the bridal was now one of real rejoicing,
though the king was somewhat bitter of mood.
Horn's Departure
When the hours wore on to midnight, Horn, sitting beside his bride,
called for silence in the hall, and addressed the king thus: "Sir
King, I pray thee listen to my tale, for I have much to say and much
to explain. My name is in sooth Horn, and I am the son of King Murry
of Suddene, who was slain by the Saracens. Thou didst cherish me and
give me knighthood, and I proved myself a true knight on the very day
when I was dubbed. Thou didst love me then, but evil men accused me to
thee and I was banished. For seven years I have lived in a strange
land; but now that I have returned, I have won thy fair daughter as
my bride. But I cannot dwell here in idleness while the heathen hold
my father's land. I vow by the Holy Rood that I will not rest, and
will not claim my wife, until I have purified Suddene from the infidel
invaders, and can lay its crown at Rymenhild's feet. Do thou, O King,
guard well my wife till my return."
The king consented to this proposal, and, in spite of Rymenhild's
grief, Horn immediately bade her farewell, and with his whole army
embarked for Suddene, this time accompanied by Athulf, but leaving the
rest of his comrades for the protection of his wife.
The Apostate Knight
The wind blew fair for Suddene, and the fleet reached the port. The
warriors disembarked, and marched inland, to encamp for the night in a
wood, where they could be hidden. Horn and Athulf set out at midnight
to endeavour to obtain news of the foe, and soon found a solitary
knight sleeping. They awoke him roughly, saying, "Knight, awake! Why
sleepest thou here? What dost thou guard?" The knight sprang lightly
from the ground, saw their faces and the shining crosses on their
shields, and cast down his eyes in shame, saying, "Alas! I have served
these pagans against my will. In time gone by I was a Christian, but
now I am a coward renegade, who forsook his God for fear of death at
the hands of the Saracens! I hate my infidel masters, but I fear them
too, and they have forced me to guard this district and keep watch
against Horn's return. If he should come to his own again how glad I
should be! These infidels slew his father, and drove him into exile,
with his twelve comrades, among whom was my own son, Athulf, who loved
the prince as his own life. If the prince is yet alive, and my son
also, God grant that I may see them both again! Then would I joyfully
die."
The Recognition
Horn answered quickly: "Sir Knight, be glad and rejoice, for here are
we, Horn and Athulf, come to avenge my father and retake my realm from
the heathen." Athulf's father was overcome with joy and shame; he
hardly dared to embrace his son, yet the bliss of meeting was so great
that he clasped Athulf in his arms and prayed his forgiveness for the
disgrace he had brought upon him. The two young knights said nothing
of his past weakness, but told him all their own adventures, and at
last he said: "What is your true errand hither? Can you two alone slay
the heathen? Dear Childe Horn, what joy this will be to thy mother
Godhild, who still lives in a solitary retreat, praying for thee and
for the land!" Horn broke in on his speech with "Blessed be the hour
when I returned! Thank God that my mother yet lives! We are not alone,
but I have an army of valiant Irish warriors, who will help me to
regain my realm."
The Reconquest of Suddene
Now the king blew his horn, and his host marched out from the wood and
prepared to attack the Saracens. The news soon spread that Childe Horn
had returned, and many men who had accepted the faith of Mahomet for
fear of death now threw off the hated religion, joined the true king's
army, and were rebaptized. The war was not long, for the Saracens had
made themselves universally hated, and the inhabitants rose against
them; so that in a short time the country was purged of the infidels,
who were slain or fled to other lands. Then Horn brought his mother
from her retreat, and together they purified the churches which had
been desecrated, and restored the true faith. When the land of Suddene
was again a Christian realm King Horn was crowned with solemn rites,
and a great coronation feast was held, which lasted too long for
Horn's true happiness.
Fikenhild Imprisons Rymenhild
During Horn's absence from Westernesse, his comrades watched carefully
over Rymenhild; but her father, who was growing old, had fallen much
under the influence of the plausible Fikenhild. From the day when
Fikenhild had falsely accused Horn to the king, Ailmar had held him in
honour as a loyal servant, and now he had such power over the old
ruler that when he demanded Rymenhild's hand in marriage, saying that
Horn was dead in Suddene, the king dared not refuse, and the princess
was bidden to make ready for a new bridal. For this day Fikenhild had
long been prepared; he had built a massive fortress on a promontory,
which at high tide was surrounded by the sea, but was easy of access
at the ebb; thither he now led the weeping princess, and began a
wedding feast which was to last all day, and to end only with the
marriage ceremony at night.
Horn's Dream
That same night, before the feast, King Horn had a terrible dream. He
thought he saw his wife taken on board ship; soon the ship began to
sink, and Rymenhild held out her hands for rescue, but Fikenhild,
standing in safety on shore, beat her back into the waves with his
sword. With the agony of the sight Horn awoke, and, calling his
comrade Athulf, said: "Friend, we must depart to-day. My wife is in
danger from false Fikenhild, whom I have trusted too much. Let us
delay no longer, but go at once. If God will, I hope to release her,
and to punish Fikenhild. God grant we come in time!" With some few
chosen knights, King Horn and Athulf set out, and the ship drove
darkling through the sea, they knew not whither. All the night they
drifted on, and in the morning found themselves beneath a newly built
castle, which none of them had seen before.
Horn's Disguise
While they were seeking to moor their boat to the shore, one of the
castle windows looking out to sea opened, and they saw a knight
standing and gazing seaward, whom they speedily recognised; it was
Athulf's cousin, Sir Arnoldin, one of the twelve comrades, who had
accompanied the princess thither in the hope that he might yet save
her from Fikenhild; he was now looking, as a forlorn hope, over the
sea, though he believed Horn was dead. His joy was great when he saw
the knights, and he came out to them and speedily told them of
Rymenhild's distress and the position of affairs in the castle. King
Horn was not at a loss for an expedient even in this distress. He
quickly disguised himself and a few of his comrades as minstrels,
harpers, fiddlers, and jugglers. Then, rowing to the mainland, he
waited till low tide, and made his way over the beach to the castle,
accompanied by his disguised comrades. Outside the castle walls they
began to play and sing, and Rymenhild heard them, and, asking what the
sounds were, gave orders that the minstrels should be admitted. They
sat on benches low down the hall, tuning their harps and fiddles and
watching the bride, who seemed unhappy and pale. When Horn sang a lay
of true love and happiness, Rymenhild swooned for grief, and the
king was touched to the heart with bitter remorse that he had tried
her constancy so long, and had allowed her to endure such hardships
and misery for his sake.
[Illustration: Horn and his followers disguised as minstrels]
Death of Fikenhild
King Horn now glanced down and saw the ring of betrothal on his
finger, where he had worn it ever, except that fateful day when he had
given it as a token of recognition to Rymenhild. He thought of his
wife's sufferings, and his mind was made up. Springing from the
minstrels' bench, he strode boldly up the hall, throwing off his
disguise, and, shouting, "I am King Horn! False Fikenhild, thou shalt
die!" he slew the villain in the midst of his men. Horn's comrades
likewise flung off their disguise, and soon overpowered the few of the
household who cared to fight in their dead master's cause. The castle
was taken for King Ailmar, who was persuaded to nominate Sir Arnoldin
his heir, and the baronage of Westernesse did homage to him as the
next king. Horn and his fair wife begged the good old steward Sir
Athelbrus to go with them to Suddene, and on the way they touched at
Ireland, where Reynild, the king's fair daughter, was induced to look
favourably on Sir Athulf and accept him for her husband. The land of
King Modi, which had now no ruler, was committed to the care of Sir
Athelbrus, and Horn and Rymenhild at last reached Suddene, where the
people received their fair queen with great joy, and where they dwelt
in happiness till their lives' end.