A NEW NAME.
"She hath no scorn of common things,
And, though she seem of other birth,
Round us her heart entwines and clings,
And patiently she folds her wings
To tread the humble paths of earth."
--JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
"There is not any virtue the exercise of which even momentarily will
not impress a new fairness upon the features."--RUSKIN.
The Black Horseman had ever been an inscrutable being, and never did
he show himself more so than when, a week or so after the visit of
the vicar and Primrose to Caer Caradoc, the latter, on his arrival
late one evening at the cottage, presented him with the letter to her
mother, upon which hung such new and exciting issues, telling him
with much eagerness of its contents. She had hoped he would show
great surprise and wonderment at this strange new turn in her
fortunes, and be perplexed equally with herself and her foster-father
at the interest thus curiously shown in her by a great and almost
unknown lady. But the muscles of the Black Horseman's face relaxed
nothing of their immovable gravity as he listened, and the piercing
black eyes which he turned on Primrose, when she had concluded her
tale, conveyed nothing beyond their usual intense scrutiny, whereby
they seemed indeed to read her very soul, yet revealing no emotion of
his own the while. "Are you not surprised?" cried Primrose, stamping
her foot with impatience. "Methought I could at last tell you news
that would startle you! Are you ever ready, good sir, to hear all
things without surprise or wonder? I would I could take you unawares
just once only, and make you put off that inscrutable face you wear,
and perchance let fall some of your secrets! Your face is ever full
of secrets, yet I could as soon drag good Master Jones into our
little church on the hillside yonder as drag one of them out of your
heart!" The Black Horseman stroked his fierce iron-grey moustache,
and smiled at the girl's mock wrath--that rare smile which her
winning ways alone seemed able to summon to his stern countenance.
"It would be an unfaithful servant who should suffer himself to be
taken unawares," he said; "also, were you of my age, fair Primrose,
and an experienced physician to boot, you must needs be full of
secrets. Methinks some part of our mother Eve's curiosity hath
fallen even to your share!" Primrose blushed. "My life has an
unfair share of mysteries, dear sir," she said with a smile, "and I
think I may be pardoned if I have also an undue share of curiosity!
But now I am at rest on one of those points over which I have
pondered, for I know you to be a learned physician. Thus far you
have betrayed yourself!"
"I am the physician honoured by your mother with her commands," he
answered, "and entrusted with the care of her health. To such
knowledge of me you are welcome, fair child! Nay, no more
questionings! Let us to business. It is your wish to accompany the
Lady Bryn Afon on her travels this winter." "My mother's wishes must
be mine," answered Primrose. "My dear father here and our vicar
counsel me to go, telling me it is good for me to see somewhat of
other lands while I am young, and to learn the languages spoken by
other people than ourselves, and to see their manners and customs;
and so I feel myself, although I would fain not be parted from dad
even for a day. Yet, if I am perchance some other maiden than I
seem, it may be well not to slight so kind an offer, whereby I may
profit myself, and become more worthy of my mother's name. Of all
this she will judge, and I will abide by her answer." "That is well
spoken," said the Black Horseman; "I will convey your letter to her
with all safety, and return with her answer with what speed I may.
Perchance in a week's time you may again see me; earlier I dare not
promise, for travelling is tedious, and I am no longer so young as
when I first made my journeys to and fro on your behalf, fair
Primrose." Indeed, the physician's coal-black hair was now deeply
tinged with grey, and his beard likewise, and somewhat of the ravages
of Time began to be apparent in his rugged and powerful countenance.
Yet he was not yet much past the prime of life, and the eagle glance
of his eye was as keen as ever, and as he rose to depart Primrose
could not but gaze at his tall, well-knit figure and handsome
features with admiration. He stooped and kissed her little hand
gallantly, and was gone in the deepening summer twilight, while she
stood wondering with what further questionings she dared torment him.
The week dragged slowly, for both the old boatman and his
foster-child felt that their hearts would be lighter when the matter
was once settled, and Primrose too awaited with much interest and
curiosity the new knowledge of her hitherto unknown baptismal name.
Her heart beat fast when, once more as she stood upon the bridge one
fair evening, she heard the well-known horse-hoofs clattering in the
distance, and ran forward to greet the Black Horseman as he drew up
beside the cottage. "Nay, I will not dismount," he said, "for I
sleep to-night at Caer Caradoc, where it is my business to acquaint
the Lady Rosamond with her charge concerning you. She has herself
offered to conduct you safely to London, whither, as you will find,
your lady mother bids you repair to join the Lady Bryn Afon early in
the month of October." "Does Lady Rosamond then know my mother?"
asked Primrose in surprise, "I know the Lady Rosamond," answered the
Black Horseman, "and have been so fortunate as to learn her purpose
of travelling to town, and her willingness to take you in charge.
Doth this my knowledge so surprise you, fair Shanno? Perchance the
Black Horseman, though himself unknown to this neighbourhood, may,
notwithstanding, know more of some of its occupants than they wot
of." "Shanno!"[1] exclaimed Primrose, forgetting her first surprise
in a second. "Dear Black Horseman, is that my new name--my real
name, that my mother gave me at my baptism?" "Like you its sound?"
asked the mysterious physician with a smile. "Shanno!" the girl
repeated to herself as if in a dream. "Shanno!" and her voice
lingered lovingly over the last syllable in the sweet, musical
fashion of her Welsh countrywomen; "yes, it is a name I have ever
loved, and I am well content. Dad, what think you of my new name?
Is it not one full of music and sweetness? Or is it but my vanity
which gives it any beauty? For, like a child with a new toy, I am
like to be vain of my new possession!" "Nay, I like it well," said
Jack fondly; "but 'Primrose' thou wilt ever be to thy old
foster-father. A pale winter Primrose wast thou put into my arms,
and the little bud I have cherished in my bosom can have no new name
for me, now that I watch it day by day opening into a full-blown
flower." "I would not have you call me aught but my own dear,
childish name, dad," she answered eagerly; "your Primrose I will ever
be, nor think of myself as 'Shanno' save only on high days and
holidays!" "That is well," said the Black Horseman, and again that
rare smile lit up his austere countenance as he looked at the girl's
sparkling face. "Now, fair child, and you, good Jack, I must bid you
farewell, for the evening groweth apace, and the road to Caer Caradoc
is long." And so saying he put spurs to his gallant steed, and
galloped away down the narrow roadway alongside the river, and
Primrose, entering the cottage, sat down at the boatman's feet to
read her mother's letter. It ran as follows:--"My beloved
daughter,--Since your sweet face hath won my Lady Bryn Afon's heart,
it is my wish that you should travel with her as she desires, obeying
her wish in all things, and striving, as far as in you lies, to
comfort and solace her by your presence, and by the exercise of those
tender and winning arts with which a good Providence hath, I rejoice
to hear, gifted you, in addition to much beauty of countenance; for
which good gifts I counsel you, my daughter, to thank Him with all
humility, praying continually that they may never prove to you a
snare unto sin. You may perchance marvel, and your dear
foster-father likewise, that after my oft-repeated injunctions laid
upon you to avoid the castle of Bryn Afon, I should thus, as it were,
suffer you now to plunge into the very jaws of the lion, by becoming
the companion for a season of its sorrowing mistress; but I pray you
bid your dear father, from me, to take no thought upon this matter,
seeing that the lady is well known by hearsay to myself, and I have
no fear of committing you to her care, knowing that she will be to
you a true friend and guardian during such time as you remain with
her, nor suffer any breath of evil from her connection with her
ill-starred house to fall on your fair head. At the close of the
winter months, since she must needs return to her lord and husband,
you will then likewise return to the care of your excellent
foster-father, whom I pray you ever to cherish with fond affection.
He will, when the time of your departure comes, commit you to the
care of the Lady Rosamond of Caer Caradoc, whose offer to conduct you
herself towards London hath been gratefully received by the Lady Bryn
Afon, who looks with eagerness for your arrival, and who will, during
your sojourn with her in town, make it her pleasure to overlook your
wardrobe, making such additions thereto as she shall deem fitting for
one whom she chooses for her travelling companion. Wherefore I send
you gold in sufficiency, that you may feel yourself in no wise a
burden upon her bounty. I pray you, sweet daughter, be not tempted
by the glitter and glamour of the Court, and remember ever the sacred
vow by which I bound you in your cradle, never to taste any manner of
strong drink--the cause for which vow you shall know, should you be
spared to the age of one-and-twenty, and I be likewise spared to tell
you; to which good time, yet some long, weary years hence, I look
forward with deep yearning, and pray God to bring us both!" "Then
when I am twenty-one years old," said Primrose, when she and Jack had
reached the conclusion of the letter, "my mother will, it would seem,
take me to live with her. Think you not so, dear dad?" "It would
seem so," answered Jack half sadly. "It were only just and right
that mother and child should after so long and passing strange a
separation be at last united, and I will not grudge you whatever! yet
my poor heart doth verily fail me at the thought, and I confess I
like not greatly even now the prospect of my lonesome winter hearth.
I fear me, Primrose, in foreign lands you will forget the language of
Wales, and esteem it but a barbarous tongue on your return; yet I
pride myself the king himself can find no fault with your English!
And for that I must needs thank our good vicar, and rejoice that we
have had among us so apt a scholar, and one so well versed in the
English tongue and customs, at whose feet you have learned what a
well-born maiden should. It is well that our youths should as now
boast themselves of their training in the noble schools and
universities of England, and I pray this may ever be their ambition,
since there is much need of good learning among our Welsh clergy in
these sad days, when heresy and schism are creeping all unawares into
our principality, and subtle whispers reviling us for our national
loyalty to our church and our king may be heard going from ear to ear
in this our once peaceful valley. Ah me! it was an evil day when
Master Jones set foot among us, bringing his false doctrines and his
hatred of princes to be sown like pestilent seed amongst us! Our
good rector has told me it was at Cardiff he picked up such ill
notions from one who is even now preaching there scurrilous teachings
against what he and his party are pleased to call the 'wickedness of
popery and prelacy.' I thank God I have ever loyally striven to keep
you from such teachings, dear heart, and that I may truly say that I
can send you forth into the presence of the king and the archbishop
themselves with no feeling of shame or disloyalty to my king and
country! You love both right well; is it not so, my darling?" "As
well as any English maiden I am like to see," answered Primrose
stoutly, "and maybe even better, since you tell me there is already
much disloyalty in England, whereas our little Wales has yet a right
loyal heart, in spite of some few such mischief-makers as Master
Jones! And should I have the honour of speech with his Majesty," she
added with a laugh, "I will tell him that he has no braver subject in
his United Kingdom than my dear foster-father, Jack the boatman, and
will e'en assure him that Wales had nought to do with that most
wicked and treacherous Gunpowder Plot made against his royal father,
of which you and our vicar have told me so many tales. I can scarce
believe, dear dad, that ere long I shall see for myself those grand
Houses of Parliament, and perchance even be permitted to look into
the very cellar where the wicked Guy Fawkes lay hid! And I cannot
forbear hoping that the Lady Bryn Afon may some day let fall some
tale about the castle here, and its curse, of which I fain would know
the cause! It is surely strange that no one in all the country-side
should have knowledge of so curious a history?" "There are many
tales thereupon," said Jack, "but none may say if any one among them
has any truth whatever. There is a tale of treachery on the part of
one of the ancient lords of the castle, on which account some say the
curse was uttered; but the rights of the story I know not, nor
whether the curse fell from the mouth of a mortal man, or, as some
say, from the lips of the Evil One himself. It is a mystery, I trow,
which no vain curiosity on our part, sweet one, may solve." "I will
believe no treachery," said Primrose valiantly. "So noble and
ancient a house could never have been guilty of deeds of shame and
dishonour. My lord, the present earl, has too noble a countenance to
have traitors for his ancestors!" "Thou art ever faithful to thy
noble friend, my darling!" said Jack with a smile, "and I love him
dearly also. Yet, methinks, with all his beauty of countenance and
dignity of presence, there is somewhat in his eye which I trust not
wholly. Think you not so?" "Nay, I was but a child when I last saw
him," answered Primrose, "and his eyes seemed to me the most
beautiful and blue and glittering I had ever seen! I have ever
looked upon him as a brave and unfortunate hero, and I will not be
disenchanted! You gaze upon his eyes with superstition in your own,
dear dad, and hence you see in them ghosts and goblins and all manner
of evil and uncanny shadows! For my part, I would that you and I
might dwell in the castle for one whole year, with some trusty
guardsman at our side, and I believe we would soon show that the
curse is but an old wives' fable!" "Heaven forbid that you should
ever enter its accursed walls!" said Jack, crossing himself devoutly.
"I pray it may ne'er be my lot so to do. Come, I will walk across
the fields with you to Evensong, for my heart groweth heavy with the
thought of losing thee, sweetheart, and methinks the prayers will
sound comforting to mine ears." "And I must tell dear Master Rhys my
new name," said Primrose, rising eagerly from her low stool at his
feet, "and let him know that he must now finish his instructions for
my confirmation with all speed, that I may not lose our good Bishop's
blessing ere I depart. I pray you, dear dad, not to be sorrowful at
my leaving you, for it is but for a few short months that I go. And
if you are sorrowful, what must I needs be, seeing that I must go out
into the great world at the side of a stranger, and be forced to
learn terrible new tongues, and look upon strange foreign faces which
are like to terrify my poor wits even with the thought of them!"
The old boatman looked lovingly into the girl's sweet upturned face,
and kissed her glowing cheeks with lips that trembled somewhat; and
though he smiled upon her as she took his hand and they sallied
forth, he smothered at the same time a deep sigh, which welled up
from a heart heavier than he dared confess.
Who, in that far distant and strange land of Italy, could comfort his
darling with that silent sympathy, at such times far better than
words, which she so sorely needed when that strange, mysterious
shadow crept, as it was wont at long intervals, over her bright young
spirit--a shadow unconfessed to any one but himself, and between the
times of its unwelcome and sudden visitation as completely forgotten
by the girl herself as if it had never existed? Who could tell what
depth of loneliness and isolation her childish heart might suffer,
when there was no one at her side to understand this curious and
mysterious form of suffering which she seemed called upon to bear for
a season? Often had Jack wondered whether to confess this unknown
shadow of evil, which, whether a mental or physical disturbance, was
none the less an actual source of occasional very real suffering, to
the sagacious Black Horseman, or even to the girl's mother herself;
but he always returned to the conclusion that it would perhaps be
soonest forgotten and outgrown the less it was talked of or dwelt
upon by any of those around her, and since after all it came but very
seldom, and passed so utterly away between whiles, he shrank from any
recognition of it which might in the slightest degree emphasise its
existence upon her mind. And daily, during the few remaining summer
weeks before the coming confirmation, did the good old man pray that
the Holy Spirit of God might then so fully overshadow her sweet
girlish soul, that no designs of the Evil One might ever have power
to harm her. It was on a fair September forenoon that Primrose, to
his fond eyes the very picture, in her soft white robe, of
unconscious loveliness and girlish purity and innocence, responded
with brave, unfaltering voice to her new name, "Shanno," in the fine
old church of Caer Cynau, and knelt before the good Bishop of St.
David's to receive the blessing she had long humbly desired. And
many who were present in the congregation remembered for many a long
day afterwards the wonderful beauty of expression on the sweet face
of the boatman's mysterious foster-daughter, in whose deep grey eyes
the very light of Heaven itself seemed to shine, and on whose
wondrous wealth of golden hair the bright sun shone till her head
seemed verily surrounded with an angelic halo. For as in the days of
her early childhood, the superstitious country folk still looked upon
Primrose as a being scarce of earth, not indeed from any want on her
part of truly human delight in all the joys, or of tears in all the
sorrows, of earth, but that they had many of them such lingering
belief in wood-nymphs and water-sprites, and in fairyland in general,
that her mysterious committal to the old boatman's charge was to
their minds easiest to be accounted for in some such romantic
fashion; and more than one old village crone had aroused Jack's ire
by venturing to prophesy that ere many more years should pass, the
maiden would be once more claimed by her own invisible people, and
vanish from his side as suddenly as she had come! Alas, it was but
too soon that she was now indeed to vanish, though for a season only,
from his sight! And it was with a feeling of vague disquietude
mingled with his pain that he parted from her some days after the
confirmation, and sent her forth under the care of the gay-hearted
Lady Rosamond and her trusty suite into the great world, which seemed
very far away from the peaceful Gwynnon Valley.
[1] The author has taken the liberty of spelling this name according
to its sound as expressed by English spelling.