SIR GALAHAD.
"A man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's heaven for?"
--ROBERT BROWNING.
Early next morning the old vicar, astride his faithful grey mare,
appeared before the boatman's cottage; and Primrose, mounting the
pillion behind him, rode away with him in high spirits, the two
affording a pretty picture of old age and youth, their white and
golden locks tossing in the fresh morning breeze. It was a gay ride,
for the sun shone and the way was beautiful, and Primrose was
triumphant at the thought of at last setting foot within one of the
many renowned old castles of the neighbourhood, none of which, save
Bryn Afon itself, interested her so much as Caer Caradoc, the ancient
abode of her mythical hero. She could fancy at every turn in the
road that she heard the clanking of King Arthur's knights, riding
their brave steeds at full speed across the valley, and would
scarcely have been surprised had she seen Sir Launcelot and Sir
Galahad themselves guarding the postern-gate, at which at length,
towards mid-day, they drew up, a trifle weary with their two hours'
ride. Lady Rosamond greeted her old friend with much warmth of
affection, and bade Primrose a hearty welcome, leading her by the
hand into the long dining-hall, and giving her a place next to
herself at the midday meal. She was young and beautiful, and in her
manner there was a sort of breezy vivacity which might be compared in
its effects upon those around her to the blowing of a strong west
wind! It was impossible to be long shy or silent in her presence,
and in spite of the state with which she was surrounded, Primrose ere
long felt quite at her ease. "What, no wine!" exclaimed Lady
Rosamond laughingly, as her young guest, with a slight flush upon her
fair face, refused the sparkling fluid offered to her. "Is it then a
fair Puritan maiden you have brought us, dear rector? She is firm,
and will not be tempted? Why then, Primrose, I would the Lady Bryn
Afon were already here to commend you. She comes anon to join us for
an hour, and were she now here I should be fain to hide my
wine-bottles beneath the table, such spite has she against them!
What think you, dear Master Rhys, on these new-fangled notions about
wine-drinking? Do you account it indeed such a deadly sin?" "I fear
it is a subject to which I have hitherto given but little thought,"
answered Master Rhys candidly. "Dwelling much among my books, I
have, I fear, too much neglected to note the evils wrought by the
love of strong drink among my parishioners, and am but newly awakened
to a sense of their greatness. It is but recently that I have given
up myself the use of all strong beverages, and that after much
consideration; but I have drawn to the conclusion of late that it is
a wise step to be taken by one in charge of souls, and in good sooth
a wise one for our people likewise to follow an they will. There is
much drunkenness around us in our country homes, and the
foster-father of my fair charge here has long put me to shame by his
example, which has indeed long influenced his neighbours for good,
insomuch that our own village is known for its sobriety.
Nevertheless, I doubt whether I had been yet awakened to any true
sense of the evil but for a pamphlet shown to me some months since by
your learned neighbour and my own esteemed cousin, Master Rhys
Prichard, and writ, as he tells me, by the scholarly pen of a young
Cambridge student--in truth, a masterful production, and greatly
creditable to so youthful a writer." "Know you his name?" asked Lady
Rosamond, somewhat curiously.
"Nay," replied Master Rhys, "the pamphlet has been anonymously put
forth, and my cousin knows not the name of its author; but young
Master Jeremy Taylor, whom he has oft met of late at my Lord
Carbery's mansion, has confessed to him that it came from the pen of
a Cambridge youth, well known to himself, and one well versed in the
subject of which he treats. It is, however, his opinion that this
young apostle of temperance has appeared before his time, and that
although the evils he combats are undoubted, yet that the spirit of
the age is not yet ripe to follow his lead, and that he is like to
wage a single-handed fight, and tread his solitary path of abstinence
somewhat hardly. Nevertheless, young Jeremy doth bid him God-speed
in his labours, giving him the comfort of his sympathy and of that
ripe wisdom and learning which have already made his university proud
of so noble a scholar. You spoke anon of the Lady Bryn Afon as one
likely to commend my fair Primrose in her own resolve upon the
matter. Is it then a subject in which she herself takes interest?"
"She has cause," answered Lady Rosamond slowly, "and I blame her not,
though I follow not her example, being not made," she added laughing,
"of that heroic mould which leads us to give up what is pleasant for
the sake of others! For this I am much taken to task, I assure you,
by the youth yonder who discourses such sweet music from the gallery."
Primrose glanced upwards through the oaken balustrade, whence the
sounds of an organ played by a master hand had been throughout the
meal entrancing her ear. But the heavy curtain drawn across the
gallery hid the player from view, and she looked at Lady Rosamond
inquiringly. "He has never confessed himself guilty of authorship,"
said Lady Rosamond, "but beshrew me if I tax him not anon in private
with the production of your anonymous pamphlet, Master Rhys. The
very name of strong drink is enough to kindle his ire, and make his
eye flash scorn upon us all!" "This is indeed a singular
coincidence," said the vicar. "Who then is this concealed friend of
yours, from whose fingers it would seem that powerful words and sweet
music alike flow with equal charm?" "He is a youth," answered Lady
Rosamond, "in whom the poetic and romantic features of character
derived from a mother of royal Welsh blood are so harmoniously
blended with the noble and manly qualities of a noble English
ancestry as to produce in himself a very impersonation of all virtues
and graces! So thinks my worthy husband, who loves the youth as a
dear younger brother, and I promise you I come not far behind him in
my own good opinion of the boy! His father was a younger son of the
noble Vere, Earl of Oxford, of poetic renown in the days of good
Queen Bess, and, as you doubtless remember, a brave and courtly
favourite of her most august majesty. He (that is to say, our young
fanatic's father) held a benefice for many years not far distant from
the fair city of Sarum, where he died some eighteen months since,
having already some months earlier lost his beloved wife, the
beautiful and saintly Lady Enid, of whose rare devotion to holy
things many a pretty tale has been told me by my mother. Her maiden
home was near to my own birthplace, and but a stone's-throw from
Montgomery Castle, where was born that saintly man, her own infant
playmate, and in after years her husband's dearest friend, Master
George Herbert, whose late cure of Bemerton, nigh to Sarum, lay at
but some few miles distance from the country rectory in which Master
Vere laboured for many years. The youth in yon gallery raves
continually of this holy and learned man, at whose feet he drank in
such inspiration to holiness as may well have fostered in him that
saintliness of character at first derived from so good a mother, and
for which he is already remarkable. He can repeat Master Herbert's
poems, I trow, by the hour together, and is ever throwing them in my
face in support of his own wild theories on the subject of strong
drink. And he laments his death even now scarcely less sorely than
that of his own father--which deaths, by a strange coincidence, took
place within some few days of each other in the month of February of
this last year,--a fitting mutual unloosing of those earthly bonds
which had long knit the two reverend friends in a deep affection."
"Say rather," interrupted Master Rhys, "a merciful exchange of
earthly bonds for heavenly. Methinks Death can cause no long
severance between holy friends! And the boy--is he an only child?"
"A brother and sister died in their infancy," replied Lady Rosamond,
"and he had in consequence a somewhat lonely childhood. He became a
scholar of Winchester, where he gained much distinction, and was
destined by his father for his own college, Christchurch; but meeting
with young Jeremy Taylor at our house some four years since, so
violent a friendship sprang up between the youths that nothing would
content our hero but the University of Cambridge and the close
proximity of his friend, then entered upon his career at Caius. So
with his father's permission he became, some two years since, being
then eighteen years of age, a scholar of Christ's, where, I warrant
you, he whiles away many a shining hour beneath the o'erhanging
boughs of Master Milton's mulberry tree, evolving his wild dreams of
an early Elysium wherein no fragrant juices of the grape shall find
place. What with the poetic atmosphere he must needs inhale daily
beneath those inspired branches, and the power of verse bequeathed
him by his illustrious grandsire, joined to the musical gifts
inherited from the fair Lady Enid, he will, I do assure him, pass ere
long into some ethereal region far above this vulgar workaday world,
where his golden visions may be dissipated by no rude shock and his
castles in the air rear themselves aloft without fear of fall! Yet
he has withal a true enjoyment of all that is good in this nether
world, and can enter with a zest I love to see into its harmless joys
and pleasures, and I do verily love to tease and plague him as to the
severity he shows towards such as he deems harmful. Since the death
of his father he has been wont to spend much of his vacation time
(being somewhat cavilled at by the lordly Veres for his heterodoxy on
the true Doctrine of Wines) in our company, a right welcome guest, I
assure you! He is destined, I doubt not, to make some mark in the
world, an he will not waste his precious moments in the putting forth
of pamphlets abusing God's good creatures! But on this subject of
strong drink he bestows so much thought, that I fear me he will mar
his prospects by over-much study in this one direction. He confesses
himself likewise to "have some special and secret mission in
connection therewith ever before his view, and with none of my
feminine beguilements can I as yet induce him to reveal it to me, nor
explain, so as to satisfy my curious mind, his great interest in so
newfangled a notion." "I would much like to see this youth," said
Master Rhys. "Can he not be persuaded to leave his organ for awhile,
and favour us with his company?" "Nay, he is 'court musician' for
the nonce," answered Lady Rosamond, shaking her head; "and having
bargained with me for a displacement of our accustomed musician, for
the sole purpose of hiding himself from strangers, I dare entreat
with him no more on the matter. I know not what fit of shyness is on
him, but he begged with such earnestness to be excused from dining
with us--a common freak of his, when we entertain guests who are
strange to him--that I could but give way to his desire for
retirement, imposing, however, upon him as a penalty the duty of
entertaining us at our meal in the manner you hear. And in truth the
handling of the instrument is many degrees better than that of our
daily organist, and a treat to the ear. The Lady Bryn Afon, I must
tell you, has a great desire to secure him for her husband's private
chaplain, having, as I said, much sympathy with his strangely
misguided notions as to our proper beverages, which notions he verily
holds fast as the Gospel itself! I do not obey his teachings, I
warrant you, yet I suffer him to preach them to me continually, for
the pleasure of hearing him talk!" "Has he then made such special
study of the matter?" asked the vicar. "His pamphlet was indeed a
scholarly piece of writing, and I can scarce believe it to be the
work of a youth of but twenty years of age." "I know not whether the
pamphlet be his or no," answered Lady Rosamond, "but I can affirm
boldly that he has already studied everything under the sun which has
been revealed to mortal man upon the matter,--and more, for, as I
tell him, I firmly believe he holds converse with the gods of old,
who, as we know, loved well their wine, and must have much experience
to relate thereon, as to its effects both on their terrestrial life
and that in which they are now expiating their excesses." "He is all
this time a nameless hero," said the vicar with a smile. "Must his
Christian name remain as unrevealed to us as his person?" "Nay, it
is no secret," answered Lady Rosamond, "save with respect to this
mysterious pamphlet, which we are making bold to ascribe to him!
Percival Vere is his name, but at Christ's College they have
nicknamed him 'Sir Galahad,' saying truly that it is a yet more
fitting appellation for one, the purity of whose countenance and
spotlessness of whose life and fame do render him a right worthy
impersonation of the sacred Knight of the Holy Grail. His father
would have had him called Lancelot, after his noble grandsire
Lancelot Ap Gryffyth, lord of brave lands and right worthy descendant
of that unfortunate king of ours, whose head King Edward of England
caused so ruthlessly to be hung up upon the gates of Carnarvon City.
But the Lady Enid would have her son bear no name of sinful knight,
e'en though it were the name her own brave father bore right
worthily, and called the boy Percival, trusting that he might rather
choose the ways of purity and peace, in which that more holy knight
of old had walked.--Now, Primrose, there were a noble ambition for
our gallant youth--to win back the ancient kingdom of his
forefathers!" "Has he then so warlike a wish?" asked the girl.
"Indeed, no!" said Lady Rosamond with a laugh. "The English half of
him is over-much devoted to our poor King Charles, I warrant you,
e'er to suffer the Welsh half to incite him to rebellion! Moreover,
it were to his fanatical mind a far nobler ambition, I trow, to win
the principality from what he is pleased to call the slavery of
drink, than from its subjection to the English sovereign! But,
indeed, dear Master Rhys, the youth is not singular in his love for
the king, for the Welsh love the Stuarts with all their heart, and my
husband assures me they will rise as one man in defence of our
troubled monarch should his enemies e'er drive him to extremity."
And while her hostess and her old friend plunged into political
matters to a depth where Primrose could not well follow them, she
glanced again at the curtain across the gallery, where the soft music
still rolled on, the player all unconscious of being so long the
topic of converse. A soft colour rose in her face. She had then
come to Caer Caradoc, there to find in truth one of the brave knights
of old, and none other than her own hero! Would there were in the
thick curtain a hole but ever so small, through which he might for a
moment be revealed! This day was indeed to be a memorable one, for
was she not also to see at last, visibly in the flesh, the mysterious
Lady of Bryn Afon Castle, whom none in the valley had ever yet
beheld, not even the good vicar himself? She had little expected
such a pleasure as this. "We met soon after my marriage at Court,"
she heard Lady Rosamond say presently, in answer to some query of the
vicar's, "and have ever since remained good friends, though we have
met but little, since I have been much abroad with my husband, for
his health's sake. And indeed I have as yet spent but little more
time, as you know, at Caer Caradoc, than the Lady Bryn Afon in her
strangely-doomed castle. She has a greater love for it, however,
than her husband, and has confessed to me that more than once, weary
of the busy Court life, she has escaped from it, with his consent, to
the solitudes of yon steep, and there by stealth passed a little
quiet time, unknown to the villagers, greatly to her own
refreshment." "She does not then share his fear and horror of the
curse?" said the vicar. "Whether so or no," answered Lady Rosamond,
"she has a strange love for the poor ruined stronghold, and tells me
she is at times well content to pass her days in quiet contemplation
of the beautiful scenery which she can well enjoy from her windows,
without going forth to be the gazing-stock of the villagers. It is
not without difficulty that I have persuaded her to visit us to-day,
and it is wholly to your fair Primrose here that we are indebted for
her graciousness, for so much has she heard the earl, her husband,
talk of the river-maiden in bygone days, that she must needs come and
see her for herself. Come; much pleasant converse hath made us tarry
long over our meal. Let me, ere our noble friend comes, do you the
honours of my castle." And grace being said by the vicar, they rose
from table, and went first in search of that marvellous underground
passage, much used in former times as a means of communication
between the three strongholds of Caer Caradoc, Bryn Afon, and Craig
Arthur, which latter was a noble and most beautiful castle crowning a
wooded height immediately above the river some few miles from Bryn
Afon: and at a little greater distance on its other side from Caer
Caradoc. "But now," said Lady Rosamond, "it has remained ever unused
since the day when the fair daughter of Jack the boatman met within
its gloomy walls her untimely fate." "I would not greatly like to
travel so many miles below the earth," said Primrose, returning with
a shudder to the light of day, after penetrating with Lady Rosamond
some little distance along the narrow passage by means of lighted
candles. "Fie, you have no courage!" said Lady Rosamond with a
laugh. "Methinks you fall short in bravery of your fair relative,
who, it would seem, went to her tragic death out of mere curiosity,
though, in truth, it seemeth to me also, I must confess, that the
curiosity of the bravest of my sex would scarce be enough to lead her
into such a place of darkness and horror alone. Faugh! a few yards
are quite enough for me! For what would you venture through the
tunnel then, Primrose, since the sin of our mother Eve were not a
motive strong enough?" "If one I loved were at the other end,
methinks I could go through bravely," said Primrose, blushing softly.
"A brave answer," said her friend with a laugh. "What will not a
weak woman do for love? Yet if my lord were so to try mine, my heart
misgives me I should fail him! May he never so cruelly make trial of
my constancy! Come, look at the view from this window. See how
grandly the cliff sweeps away beneath us, down great depths into the
valley. Think how bravely we could level our enemies from us; an
they tried to scale these crags to attack us, with what a mighty fall
they would plunge headlong down yon steep, while we---- What, thou
art pale, sweet Primrose! An you were a soldier's daughter and wife
like me, your cheeks would glow and your heart swell within you at
the picture. Hark! I hear the bell and the barking of the dogs. My
Lady Bryn Afon is arriving. I pray you finish the tour of our castle
in our good guide's company, while I greet her. Llewellyn, you will
anon conduct our guests to the withdrawing-room, where we shall await
them."