Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race Part 21 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
Then one day the kingly merchants told the poor widow who harboured them that they too were the friends of the poor and starving; they were servants of a mighty prince, who in his compa.s.sion and mercy had sent them on a mission to Ireland to help the afflicted peasants to fight against famine and death. They said that they themselves had no food to give, only wine and gold in plenty, so that men might exert themselves and search for food to buy. Their hostess, hearing this, and knowing that there were still some n.i.g.g.ards who refused to part with their mouldering heaps of corn, setting the price so high that no man could buy, called down the blessing of G.o.d and Mary and all the saints upon their heads, for if they would distribute their gold to all, or even buy the corn themselves and distribute it, men need no longer die of hunger.
A New Traffic
When she prayed for a blessing on the two strangers they smiled scornfully and impatiently; and the elder said, cunningly:
"Alas! we know the evils of mere charity, And would devise a more considered way.
Let each man bring one piece of merchandise."
"Ah, sirs!" replied the hostess, "then your compa.s.sion, your gold and your goodwill are of no avail. Think you, after all these weary months, that any man has merchandise left to sell? They have sold long ago all but the very clothes they wear, to keep themselves alive till better days come. Such offers are mockery of our distress."
"We mock you not," said the elder merchant. "All men have the one precious thing we wish to buy, and have come hither to find; none has already lost or sold it."
"What precious treasure can you mean? Men in Ireland now have only their lives, and can barely cherish those," said the poor woman, wondering greatly and much afraid.
Buyers of Souls
The elder merchant continued gazing at her with a crafty smile and an eye ever on the alert for tokens of understanding. "Poor as they are, Irishmen have still one thing that we will purchase, if they will sell: their souls, which we have come to obtain for our mighty Prince, and with the great price that we shall pay in pure gold men can well save their lives till the starving time is over. Why should men die a cruel, lingering death or drag through weary months of miserable half-satisfied life when they may live well and merrily at the cost of a soul, which is no good but to cause fear and pain? We take men's souls and liberate them from all pain and care and remorse, and we give in exchange money, much money, to procure comforts and ease; we enrol men as va.s.sals of our great lord, and he is no hard taskmaster to those who own his sway."
Slow Trade at First
When the poor widow heard these dreadful words she knew that the strangers were demons come to tempt men's souls and to lure them to h.e.l.l. She crossed herself, and fled from them in fear, praying to be kept from temptation; and she would not return to her little cottage in the forest, but stayed in the village warning men against the evil demons who were tempting the starving people, till she too died of the famine, and her house was left wholly to the strangers. Yet the merchants fared ever well, better than before her departure, and those who ventured to the forest dwelling found good food and rich wine, which the strangers sometimes gave to their visitors, with crafty hints of abundance to be easily obtained. Then when timid individuals asked the way to win these comforts the strangers began their tempting, and represented the case to be gained by the sale of men's souls. One man, bolder than the rest, made a bargain with the demons and gave them his soul for three hundred crowns of gold, and from that time he in his turn became a tempter. He boasted of his wealth, of the rich food the merchants gave him at times, of the potent wine he drank from their generously opened bottles, and, best of all, he vaunted his freedom from pity, conscience, or remorse.
Trade Increases
Gradually many people came to the forest dwelling and trafficked with the demon merchants. The purchase of souls went on busily, and the demons paid prices varying according to the worth of the soul and the record of its former sins; but to all who sold they gave food and wine, and in gloating over their gold and satisfying hunger and thirst, men forgot to ask whence came this food and wine and the endless stores of coin. Now many people ventured into the forest to deal with the demons, and the narrow track grew into a broad beaten way with the numbers of those who came, and all returned fed and warmed, and bearing bags heavy with coin, and the promise of abundant food and easy service. Those who had sold their souls rioted with the money, for the demons gave them food, and they bought wine from the inexhaustible stores of the evil merchants. The poor, lost people knew that there was no hope for them after death, and they tried by all means to keep themselves alive and to enjoy what was yet left to them; but their mirth was fearful and they durst not stop to think.
Cathleen Hears of the Demon Traders
At first the Countess Cathleen knew nothing of the terrible doings of the demons, for she never pa.s.sed beyond her castle gates, but spent her time in prayer for her people's safety and for the speedy return of her messengers; but when the starving throng of pensioners at her gates grew daily less, and there were fewer claimants for the pitiful allowance which was all she had to give, she wondered if some other mightier helper had come to Ireland. But she could hear of none, and soon the shameless rioting and drunkenness in the village came to her knowledge, and she wondered yet more whence her clansmen obtained the means for their excesses, for she felt instinctively that the origin of all this rioting must be evil. Cathleen therefore called to her an old peasant, whose wife had died of hunger in the early days of the famine, so that he himself had longed to die and join her; but when he came to her she was horror-struck by the change in him. Now he came flushed with wine, with defiant look and insolent bearing, and his face was full of evil mirth as he tried to answer soberly the Countess's questions.
"Why do the villagers and strangers no longer come to me for food? I have but little now to give, but all are welcome to share it with me and my household."
The Peasant's Story
"They do not come, O Countess, because they are no longer starving.
They have better food and wine, and abundance of money to buy more."
[Ill.u.s.tration: The peasant's story]
"Whence then have they obtained the money, the food, and the wine for the drinking-bouts, the tumult of which reaches me even in my oratory?"
"Lady, they have received all from the generous merchants who are in the forest dwelling where old Mairi formerly lived; she is dead now, and these n.o.ble strangers keep open house in her cottage night and day; they are so wealthy that they need not stint their bounty, and so powerful that they can find good food, enough for all who go to them.
Since Brigit died (your old servant, lady) her husband and son work no more, but serve the strange merchants, and urge men to join them; and I, and many others, have done so, and we are now wealthy" (here he showed the Countess a handful of gold) "and well fed, and have wine as much as heart can desire."
"But do you give them nothing in return for all their generosity? Are they so n.o.ble that they ask nothing in requital of their bounty?"
"Good Gold for Souls"
"Oh, yes, we give them something, but nothing of importance, nothing we cannot spare. They are merchants of souls, and buy them for their king, and they pay good red gold for the useless, painful things. I have sold my soul to them, and now I weep no more for my wife; I am gay, and have wine enough and gold enough to help me through this dearth!"
"Alas!" sighed the Countess, "and what when you too die?" The old peasant laughed at her grief as he said: "Then, as now, I shall have no soul to trouble me with remorse or conscience"; and the Countess covered her eyes with her hand and beckoned silently that he should go. In her oratory, whither she betook herself immediately, she prayed with all her spirit that the Virgin and all the saints would inspire her to defeat the demons and to save her people's souls.
Cathleen Tries to Check the Traffic
Next day Cathleen called together all the people in the village, her own tribesmen and strangers. She offered them again a share of all she had, and the daily rations she could distribute, but told them that all must share alike and that she had nothing but the barest necessaries to give--scanty portions of corn and meal, with milk from one or two famine-stricken cows her servants had managed to keep alive. To this she added that she had sent two trusty messengers for help, one to Ulster for cattle, and Fergus to England for corn and wine; they must return soon, she felt sure, with abundant supplies, if men would patiently await their return.
In Vain
But all was useless. Her messengers had sent no word of their return, and the abundant supplies at the forest cottage were more easily obtained, and were less carefully regulated, than those of the Countess Cathleen. The merchants, too, were ever at hand with their cunning wiles, and their active, persuasive dupes, who would gladly bring all others into their own soulless condition. The wine given by the demons warmed the hearts of all who drank, and the deceived peasants dreamed of happiness when the famine was over, and so the pa.s.sionate appeal of the Countess failed, and the sale of souls continued merrily. The noise of revelry grew daily louder and more riotous, and the drinkers cared nothing for the death or departure of their dearest friends; while those who died, died drunken and utterly reckless, or full of horror and despair, reviling the crafty merchants who had deceived them with promises of life and happiness. The evil influence clung all about the country-side, and seemed in league with the pitiless powers of Nature against the souls of men, till at last the stricken Countess, putting her trust in G.o.d, sought out the forest lodge where the demon merchants dwelt, trafficking for souls. The way was easy to find now, for a broad beaten track led to the dwelling, and as the evil spirits saw Cathleen coming slowly along the path their wicked eyes gleamed and their clawlike hands worked convulsively in their jewelled gloves, for they hoped she had come to sell her pure soul.
She Visits the Demons
"What does the Countess Cathleen wish to obtain from two poor stranger merchants?" said the elder with an evil smile; and the younger, bowing deeply said: "Lady, you may command us in all things, save what touches our allegiance to our king." Cathleen replied: "I have no merchandise to barter, nothing for trade with you, for you buy such things as I will never sell: you buy men's souls for h.e.l.l. I come only to beg that you will release the poor souls whom you have bought for Satan's kingdom, and will have mercy on my ignorant people and deceive them no more. I have yet some gold unspent and jewels unsold: take all there is but let my people go free." Then the merchants laughed aloud scornfully, and rejected her offer. "Would you have us undo our work?
Have we toiled, then, for naught to extend our master's sway? Have we won for him so many souls to dwell for ever in his kingdom and do his work, and shall we give them back for your entreaties? We have gold enough, and food and wine enough, fair lady. The souls we have bought we keep, for our master gives us honour and rank proportioned to the number of souls we win for him, and you may see by the golden circlets round our brows that we are princes of his kingdom, and have brought him countless souls. Nevertheless, there is one most rare and precious thing which could redeem these bartered souls of Ireland's peasants, things of little worth."
They Make a Proposal
"Oh, what is that?" said the Countess. "If I have it, or can in any way procure it, tell me, that I may redeem these deluded people's souls."
"You have it now, fair saint. It is one pure soul, precious as mult.i.tudes of more sin-stained souls. Our master would far rather have a perfect and flawless pearl for his diadem than myriads of these cracked and flawed crystals. Your soul, most saintly Countess, would redeem the souls of all your tribe, if you would sell it to our king; it would be the fairest jewel in his crown. But think not to save your people otherwise, and beguile them no longer with false promises of help: your messenger to Ulster lies sick of ague in the Bog of Allen, and no food comes from England."
False Tidings
"We saw a man Heavy with sickness in the Bog of Allen Whom you had bid buy cattle. Near Fair Head We saw your grain s.h.i.+ps lying all becalmed In the dark night, and not less still than they Burned all their mirrored lanterns in the sea."
When Cathleen heard of the failure of her messengers to bring food it seemed as if all hope were indeed over, and the demons smiled craftily upon her as she turned silently to go, and laughed joyously to each other when she had left their presence. Now they had good hope to win her for their master; but they knew that their time was short, since help was not far away.
"Last night, closed in the image of an owl, I hurried to the cliffs of Donegal, And saw, creeping on the uneasy surge, Those s.h.i.+ps that bring the woman grain and meal; They are five days from us.
I hurried east, A grey owl flitting, flitting in the dew, And saw nine hundred oxen toil through Meath, Driven on by goads of iron; they too, brother, Are full five days from us. Five days for traffic."
Cathleen's Despair
The Countess then went back in bitter grief to her desolate castle, where only faithful old servants now waited in the halls, and whispered together in the dark corners, and, kneeling in her oratory, she prayed far into the night for light in her darkness. As she prayed before the altar she slept for very weariness, and was aroused by a sudden furious knocking, and an outcry of "Thieves! Thieves!" Cathleen rose quickly from the altar steps, and met her foster-mother, Oona, at the door of the oratory; and Oona cried aloud: "Thieves have broken into the treasure-chamber, and nothing is left!" Cathleen asked if this were true, and discovered that not a single coin, not a single gem was left: the demons had stolen all. And while the servants still mourned over the lost treasures of the house there came another cry of "Thieves! Thieves!" and an old peasant rushed in, exclaiming that all the food was gone. That, alas! was true: the few sacks of meal which supplied the scanty daily fare were emptied and the bags flung on the floor. Now indeed the last poor resource was gone.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "Thieves have broken into the treasure-chamber"]