“I have a weapon here will make you understand you are a traitorly
rogue.”
“Ay, sirrah,” said the giant; and took that word in high disdain that
Tom should call him a traitorly rogue, and with that he ran into his
cave to fetch out his club, intending to dash out Tom’s brains at the
first blow.
Tom knew not what to do for a weapon, for he knew his whip would do
but little good against such a monstrous beast as he was, for he was
in height about twelve feet, and six about the waist. While the giant
went for his club, Tom bethought himself of two very good weapons, for
he makes no more ado but takes his cart and turns it upside down, takes
out the axle–tree, and a wheel for his shield and buckler, and very
good weapons they were, especially in time of need. The giant, coming
out again, began to stare at Tom, to see him take the wheel in one
hand, and the axle–tree in the other, to defend him with.
“Oh,” said the giant, “you are like to do great service with these
weapons. I have here a twig that will beat thee and thy wheel and
axle–tree to the ground.”
That which the giant called a twig was as thick as some mill–posts
are, but Tom was not daunted for his big and threatening speech, for
he perfectly saw there was no way except one, which was to kill or be
killed. So the giant made at Tom with such a vehement force that he
made Tom’s wheel crack again, and Tom lent the giant as good, for he
took him such a weighty blow on the side of his head, that he made the
giant reel again.
“What,” said Tom, “are you drunk with my strong beer already?”
The giant, recovering, laid on Tom, but still as they came, Tom kept
them off with his wheel, so that he had no hurt at all. In short, Tom
plied his work so well, and laid such huge blows on the giant that
sweat and blood together ran down his face, and, being fat and foggy
with fighting so long, he was almost tired out, and he asked Tom to let
him drink a little water, and then he would fight him again.
“No,” said Tom, “my mother did not teach me that wit. Who would be the
fool then?”
Tom, seeing the giant began to grow weary, and that he failed in his
blows, thought it was best to make hay while the sun did shine, for he
laid on so fast as though he had been mad, till he brought the giant
down to the ground.
The giant seeing himself down, and Tom laying so hard on him, made him
roar in a most lamentable manner, and prayed him not to take away his
life and he would do anything for him, and yield himself to him to be
his servant.
But Tom, having no more mercy on him than a dog or a bear, laid still
on the giant till he laid him for dead. When he had done, he cut off
his head, and went into his cave, where he found great store of gold
and silver, which made his heart leap.
Now, having done this action in killing the giant, he put his cart
together again, loaded it, and drove it to Wisbeach and delivered his
beer, and, coming home to his master, he told it to him. His master
was so overjoyed at the news that he would not believe him till he had
seen; and, getting up the next day, he and his master went to see if he
spoke the truth or not, together with most of the town of Lynn. When
they came to the place and found the giant dead, he then showed the
place where the head was, and what silver and gold there was in the
cave. All of them leaped for joy, for this monster was a great enemy to
all the country.
This news was spread all up and down the country, how Tom Hickathrift
had killed the giant, and well was he that could run or go to see the
giant and his cave. Then all the folks made bonfires for joy, and Tom
was a better respected man than before.
Tom took possession of the giant’s cave by consent of the whole
country, and every one said he deserved twice as much more. Tom pulled
down the cave and built him a fine house where the cave stood, and in
the ground that the giant kept by force and strength, some of which he
gave to the poor for their common, the rest he made pastures of, and
divided the most part into tillage to maintain him and his mother, Jane
Hickathrift.
Tom’s fame was spread both far and near throughout the country, and it
was no longer Tom but Mr. Hickathrift, so that he was now the chiefest
man among them, for the people feared Tom’s anger as much as they
did the giant before. Tom kept men and maid servants, and lived most
bravely. He made a park to keep deer in. Near to his house he built a
church and gave it the name of St. James’s Church, because he killed
the giant on that day, which is so called to this hour. He did many
good deeds, and became a public benefactor to all persons that lived
near him.
Tom having got so much money about him, and being not used to it, could
hardly tell how to dispose of it, but yet he did use the means to do
it, for he kept a pack of hounds and men to hunt with him, and who but
Tom then? So he took such delight in sports that he would go far and
near to any meetings, as cudgel–play, bear baiting, football, and the
like.
Now as Tom was riding one day, he alighted off his horse to see that
sport, for they were playing for a wager. Tom was a stranger, and none
did know him there. But Tom spoiled their sport, for he, meeting the
football, took it such a kick, that they never found their ball more.
They could see it fly, but whither none could tell. They all wondered
at it, and began to quarrel with Tom, but some of them got nothing by
it, for Tom gets a great spar which belonged to a house that was blown
down, and all that stood in his way he knocked down, so that all the
county was up in arms to take Tom, but all in vain, for he manfully
made way wherever he came.
When he was gone from them, and returning homewards, he chanced to be
somewhat late in the evening on the road. There met him four stout,
lusty rogues that had been robbing passengers that way, and none could
escape them, for they robbed all they met, both rich and poor. They
thought when they met with Tom he would be a good prize for them, and,
perceiving he was alone made cock–sure of his money, but they were
mistaken, for he got a prize by them. Whereupon, meeting him, they bid
him stand and deliver.
“What,” said Tom, “shall I deliver?”
“Your money, sirrah,” said they.
“But,” said Tom, “you will give me better words for it, and you must be
better armed.”
“Come, come,” said they, “we do not come here to parley, but we come
for money, and money we will have before we stir from this place.”
“Ay!” said Tom. “Is it so? Then get it and take it.”
So then one of them made at him, but he presently unarmed him and took
away his sword, which was made of good trusty steel, and smote so
hard at the others that they began to put spurs to their horses and
be–gone. But he soon stayed their journey, for one of them having a
portmanteau behind him, Tom, supposing there was money in it, fought
with a great deal of more courage than before, till at last he killed
two of the four, and the other two he wounded very sore so that they
cried out for quarter. With much ado he gave them their lives, but
took all their money, which was about two hundred pounds, to bear his
expenses home. Now when Tom came home he told them how he had served
the football–players and the four highwaymen, which caused a laughter
from his old mother. Then, refreshing himself, he went to see how all
things were, and what his men had done since he went from home.
Then going into his forest, he walked up and down, and at last met with
a lusty tinker that had a good staff on his shoulder, and a great dog
to carry his leather bag and tools of work. Tom asked the tinker from
whence he came, and whither he was going, for that was no highway. The
tinker, being a sturdy fellow, bid him go look, and what was that to
him, for fools would be meddling.
“No,” says Tom, “but I’ll make you know, before you and I part, it is
me.”
“Ay!” said the tinker, “I have been this three long years, and have had
no combat with any man, and none durst make me an answer. I think they
be all cowards in this country, except it be a man who is called Thomas
Hickathrift who killed a giant. Him I would fain see to have one combat
with him.”
“Ay!” said Tom, “but, methinks, I might be master in your mouth. I am
the man: what have you to say to me?”
“Why,” said the tinker, “verily, I am glad we have met so happily
together, that we may have one single combat.”
“Sure,” said Tom, “you do but jest?”
“Marry,” said the tinker, “I am in earnest.”
“A match,” said Tom. “Will you give me leave to get a twig?”
“Ay,” says the tinker. “Hang him that will fight a man unarmed. I scorn
that.”
Tom steps to the gate, and takes one of the rails for his staff. So
they fell to work. The tinker at Tom and Tom at the tinker, like unto
two giants, they laid one at the other. The tinker had on a leathern
coat, and at every blow Tom gave the tinker his coat cracked again, yet
the tinker did not give way to Tom an inch, but Tom gave the tinker a
blow on the side of the head which felled the tinker to the ground.
“Now, tinker, where are you?” said Tom.
But the tinker, being a man of metal, leaped up again, and gave Tom a
blow which made him reel again, and followed his blows, and then took
Tom on the other side, which made Tom’s neck crack again. Tom flung
down the weapon, and yielded the tinker to be the best man, and took
him home to his house, where I shall leave Tom and the tinker to be
recovered of their many wounds and bruises, which relation is more
enlarged as you may read in the second part of Thomas Hickathrift.