Tales From Cornwall: A History Of The Hubelaires

8. The Bride Well

As Paul Spencer pointed out in our last issue, DAVID H. KELLER was a staunch admirer of the works of James Branch Cabell, and while there is a touch of Cabell in all of the Tales From Cornwall, it comes out most clearly in the Cecil, Overlord sequences, of which this is the fourth.

It was not till we had arrived within the boundaries of my beloved Cornwall that I realized my appearing before my subjects with a Welsh lady might not be either understood or accepted by those sturdy knights who had been so faithful during the early months of my reign. It was all well enough to rescue the so lovely Ruth and even spend long minutes driving the devil back into her body with long, lingering kisses; but to brazenly bring the same lady back to my domains might cause political disturbances of a direst nature. Yet, at the same time, there was Ruth, on the horse in front of me; and, from certain clinging habits she had spontaneously developed, I had every reason to believe she intended to remain within the curve of my left arm, waist-bound, for the rest of her life.

“I am Overlord of Cornwall,” at last I made bold to say, “and much of my support comes from nobles with marriageable daughters. As long as I remain a bachelor, these nobles will remain my friends, but if they saw you and found you were from Wales, jealous dissensions would at once arise. So we shall stop at the next chapman’s and buy masculine apparel for you, and you can go to my castle as a page.”

“Shall I be your page,” Ruth asked.

“Oh, I presume so. At least I will have no other, and you can run my errands for me, and bind on my armor when I go giant-hunting.”

“That will be nice. I think I shall look well in boy’s clothes.

I used to wear them when I was much younger. Will you give me a boy’s name?”

We talked it over and decided to call her Percy. Later in the day we met an itinerant who was selling clothing to those who could buy, and I made a shrewd trade with him, so when Ruth came from behind the bushes she looked like a young lad, not yet shaven. The peddler took her clothes and some silver and left us.

After that I made Ruth ride behind me, and, if there was any holding to do, she could do it. All that day and one more day we rode, and at night we arrived at my castle. Giving orders that my faithful charger be well fed and bedded, and that the treasures I brought with me be safely secured behind lock and bar, I trudged wearily to my rooms to remove the iron and leather harness that seemed so necessary for a ruler to wear when out on the lonely roads of his country. I bethought me of King Arthur, who made his land so safe that a golden bracelet hung on a thorn bush for three years without being disturbed while it waited for its rightful owner. That was the kind of country I wanted Cornwall to be, some day.

Percy came after me into the privacy of my rooms, and ere I was aware, started to take off my armor and cleverly found sweet oil to rub me with and then helped me put on my silks and soft velvets. Before I realized it, I was in comfort before the fire, and she holding out to me a horn of spiced ale, which it seems she had ordered for my pleasure on her way up the stone stairs.

After that came some pleasant days in the library. Ruth could not read, but she had a willingness to learn. Her frank statement that I knew more than she did was decidedly refreshing to my masculine pride. In my astonishing adventures in the Apurimac Valley, the Blessed Islands, Cabel and Dahomey, I had met many women, but never one who willingly acknowledged my intellectual supremacy. The simple child seemed anxious to learn, so I permitted her to look through my books and I read to her some pages of my personal history, and after many hours I was pleased to find that she had learned to read, though still showing a preference for picture books. Of course she wore her boy’s clothing and I was very careful to call her Percy, but occasionally, when we were alone, I graciously gave her osculatory treatment for the devil I had forced to enter her.

It was all very lovely and might have continued for an eternity of pleasant evenings, at least for several months, had it not been for an unexpected and slightly embarrassing visit from several of my mightiest nobles. There were only three of them, but they were so powerful in the affairs of Cornwall that they might as well have been thirty or three hundred. I received them in the library, first telling Percy to begone and stay begone till she knew they were safely out of the castle. To help the page pass the time while away from me, I gave her a book wherefrom she could learn her letters and thus improve her ability to read.

Before the fire the good knights, Belvidere, Arthur and Mallory, sat warming their shins and drinking my wine, the while looking at each other and then sidewise at me as though uncertain as to who should begin the conversation or as to the effect it would have on their Overlord. At last Mallory coughed and began to tell me what was on their minds.

“You must be willing to acknowledge, Cecil, son of James and grandson of David, and even back to the son of Raymond, that your arrival in our country and becoming Overlord has been a matter of deep mystery to us all.”

“There is no doubt that it was most unusual,” I replied.

“We admit that we needed a strong man as ruler. There were robbers, giants and demons within the realm and many strong and jealous countries around us, anxious for our downfall. You arrived at an opportune time, and thanks to your ability as a giant-killer and politician you have given Cornwall a sense of security that, before your advent, it strangely lacked.”

“My record speaks for itself,” I almost boasted. “Five robber gangs dispersed and from these over a hundred killed in battle or hung to dead limbs to warn all evil-doers against acting thus in my confines. Three giants, seven deadly serpents, one dragon and a number of salamanders and ogres have been sent to Limbo. Thanks to my magical powers, Queen Broda, of Ireland married our Lord Figzhugh and now that country is very friendly to us. Wales does not dare to attack us. In fact, only a short time ago, I adventured there and rid their land of a most horrific curse, following which remarkable feat of valorous knighthood King Conwyn gave me many jewels and other presents of great value. I am going to sell some of these, buy food and give it to my folk against the cold of next winter. Thus there is no doubt, at least in my mind, that Cornwall hath profited by my taking charge of the affairs of state.”

Belvidere swore a mighty oath; “By the bones of the eleven thousand and one virgins of Cologne, no one can dispute the truth of all you say, and, speaking for us three, and we represent the country, I am sure that we value your services as Overlord, though your bookish ways are beyond us—.”

“Ah” I interrupted, “but you have not seen all my books. Now I am sure that if you looked through my copy of Elephantis — Where is my copy? I always keep it right here. That dog of a page must have taken it. Anyway, I am certain you would have keen enjoyment from its inspection.”

“That may be, but we are not monks. None of us understands the art of reading.”

“You do not have to read. The book of Elephantis is one of pictures only.”

“That would be different. But to go on where your Worship broke into my argument. We like you and appreciate your clever manner of ruling the country; but what would happen to us should you die of the Black Plague? You have, as far as we know, neither kith nor kin, and, being unmarried, no children to make your dynasty secure. That is why we came here. To urge your marriage.”

I lost no time in making answer.

“This new problem my lords. know owe is no to me, I I it to my country to marry and beget children, sturdy sons to help carry the burden and beautiful daughters to make fortunate alliances. But how can I marry? I am wise but not wise enough to select a wife from the beautiful virgins of Cornwall. I met Eleanor, daughter of Sir Belvidere and lost my heart to her, but the next day Sir Arthur rode by with his daughter Helen, and I realized that she is blonde, whereas Eleanor is brunette. Then the same week chance led me to the home of Sir Mallory, and his daughter Guinevere graced the banquet table. Tell me, my lords, with three such beauties to choose from, how can a man decide? If I marry Eleanor how can I keep the mystical beauties of the other two charmers from haunting my dreams? Shall I take Helen and offend the fathers of Guinevere and Eleanor? That is why I remain a bachelor. Am I right? Only by remaining single can I keep my beloved knights at peace and those darling girls with at least some degree of hope, for as long as I am single I am the rightful property of any woman artful enough to win me.”

Sir Arthur smiled; “Very clever. That speech is on a par with your general performance since dropping into our country from nowhere. We know how you feel. You want to be fair with all of us; but at the same time you must marry. I hear that you are a worker of magic; that by your daemonical powers you became Overlord and later secured the friendship of Ireland by removing the tail from our friend FitzHugh so he could marry Queen Broda. We are asking you to use this magic in selecting a bride. To the west of this castle, centering a fairy ring in the dark forest, is a bride well. A single man, looking into that well, sees the face of his future wife. We will gather there, the Cornwall nobles and their eligible daughters. You will look into the well, compare the picture you see there with the lovely damsels, and announce your decision. It is an ancient custom, and, as we know you are honest, will provide a satisfactory answer to our dilemma. For many hundreds of years our Overlords have thus selected their women. So the next night of the full moon we will gather there and you will provide a priest, and the selection and marriage will be the work of but a few minutes. Are you satisfied with the plan?”

“It is perfect,” I replied. “It has all of the elements of white magic of the finest sort.”

“Then,” said Arthur, “Belvidere and I will be riding through the night. I understand Mallory will remain. He hath a shrew for wife, and the poor lad lets no opportunity slip to remain a night away from her, especially when he hath a leman with him.” So saying he slapped Sir Mallory on the back and laughed heartily at his discomforture, and he and Sir Belvidere went out into the night.

“Tis an odd way of selecting a queen,” I remarked.

“So it is,” agreed the grizzled old knight, “but hath no more gamble to it than any other way. Hundreds of years ago, ’tis said, the nobility gathered to see the selection of the bride, and, when the Overlord looked into the well he saw, instead of a reflection of a woman, a real one named Melusina, daughter of a Armorican fey called Pressina, and she, coming out of the well, demanded she become the Queen, and none could gainsay her right. They married, and, her clothing off, the poor Overlord found she was half woman and half snake. It was great a scandal and created new styles in clothes and pantofles. Many women claimed to be deformed just to be in style.”

“Horrible! But how came she in the well?”

“No doubt placed herself there so she could marry the Overlord. Ha, ha! It would be too bad for that old tale to spread over Cornwall just now. A dozen wells would not hold the lovely women who covet you,” and the old rogue poked me in my royal ribs as he drank another horn of ale. At last I had him escorted to his room, there to be cared for by his leman.

As soon as he left I called for Percy. I wanted to know where my copy of Elephantis was. As I suspected, she had taken it with her when she left the library and all the time I had thought she was studying her letters.

“How can you ever hope to become learned when you spend time looking at such pictures instead of devoting yourself to reading?” I scolded her.

“I do not want to be learned,” she sulked.

“What do you want? Have you no desire to improve your condition in life?” I demanded.

Tears were her only answer, so I cuffed her on the ear and bade her begone for the night. It would be one week before the night of the full moon. If I was going to have a wife, then the best place for Percy or Ruth, or whatever his or her name was, would be back in Wales. So the next morning I had a pony packed with silken gowns and jewels and had her placed on an ambling pad in charge of two of my most trusted men-at-arms, and sent her on her way.

“Go back and marry your old miser,” I said roughly, “and be an honest woman and the mother of children and cease your nonsense and your odd ways.”

“I don’t think you want me any more,” she said very seriously, and the way she looked at me and pursed her lips made me regret what I had done.

“It is not that,” I said in self-defense, “but as the Overlord of a great country I must marry and start a dynasty; so on your way, and occasionally think kindly of me, Ruth.”

So off she went back to Wales, and I thought myself well rid of a dangerous situation; for now that I was to marry and settle down, there was only one way for me to live and that was as an example to my people, a model of faithfulness and sobriety.

I sent for my seneschal. “Have all in readiness for many guests,” I commanded.

“That I will do gladly, since I am pleased to know you are to marry, Lord Cecil,” he replied. “Already I have men at work preparing a new bedroom for you, with the walls hung with beautiful tapestries appropriate to your new position. Leda and the Swan, and Hercules and the fifty and one maidens. There is an old story which I never could comprehend, and mayhaps my Lord can give me the right of it. Did Knight Hercules love the one maiden fifty times in one night or love the fifty maidens all in one night?”

“If he claimed either he was a liar, and it would be best not to have such pictures in my new bedroom, for my bride might be vexed when she compared me with this braggart from the mysterious East.” With that I dismissed him and resumed the writing of my personal history, being anxious to bring it up to date and not certain how much time I would have after my marriage. However, I had written only a few pages when I was interrupted by a visitor, none other than the priest who had married Queen Broda.

“Hail, my dear sib,” he said, and there was a twinkle in his eye. “Long since, I promised you power to conquer all who opposed you, but that power will not avail you after your wedding, for then you will be but a grain of wheat caught between the upper and the nether millstones of married life.”

“Nonsense,” I retorted. “I rule Cornwall and certainly should be able to govern my wife, as I intend to do.”

“That is what you think! But you are going to learn a deal about women, and in a short time. I shall watch your future with interest. Since you will need a priest to marry you to this unknown damsel, it would be best for me to remain in the castle as your guest till the festivities are over. How is your history progressing? Doubtless you will add to it your adventures in Cornwall. You were wise in sending that page back to Wales. Now go on with your writing while I enjoy some of your old manuscripts. You have a most interesting library, which is not to be wondered at, since I made the selection.”

The next week was a busy one. I kept open house. All the nobility called, and many of them stayed the night. There were gruff fathers and solicitous mothers and attractive daughters, almost without number. Any bachelor who could not pick a bride from these Cornwall beauties was indeed hard to please. Naturally many efforts were made to influence me — gifts, private interviews, little intrigues of every nature; but I was able to act so wisely that when the night of the full moon came all of their relatives were satisfied that I would act fairly and be influenced only by the most honest comparison between the image in the well and the lady whom this image most resembled.

We waited anxiously while the moon rose full and golden. The priest was there in his sacerdotal robes. I was more and more certain that he was the mightly magician who had conquered in the Battle of the Toads, granted me my three wishes and made me Overlord of Cornwall. He must have read my thoughts, for he winked at me and gave me the sign of the Brethren. This cheered me greatly, for, without knowing why, I felt that he would so influence my choice that nothing but happiness would result therefrom. Sir Belvidere was there and Arthur and other loving fathers, fifty in all. It would be a hard and difficult choice and I was glad that a Master Magician had a hand in the affair.

Of course none approached the well. That right was reserved for me, and I was not to look into its depth until the moon was directly above it. It was a serious, silent gathering, each hoping against hope and each hoping something different. They could not all be right. Only one lovely woman could become bride and Queen.

I trembled a little. That was from the chill night air. At the same time it was not an easy matter, even for a hardened adventurer, to go through with the program. Suppose I should be forced to select Lord Mallory’s daughter? I knew his wife, and there was no reason to think that the daughter would be otherwise. Oh, well! If the worst came to the worst, I could go hunting gerrymanders in Ethiopia.

At last the priest, who had assumed the position of master of ceremonies, called for silence and bade me walk straight to the well. The moon was now directly above the ancient hole. Trembling, I looked in, and at once covered my dazzled eyes. Then I took a step backward.

“Did you see an image therein?” asked the priest.

“I did.”

“Then from these virgins select the one whose image you saw in the Bride Well.”

“I cannot. She resembleth none of these waiting ladies.”

My people murmured when they heard this. It was a hard statement I had made and one they could not understand. But I waved my hand regally and demanded silence.

“Here is a magical happening,” I cried. “There is no image in the well, but rather a real woman. Priest, bid her come forth and tell her station in life. Have her explain how comes she here.”

In seven different languages and five distinct dialects he called down the well, commanding the woman to come forth. She came, slowly, as though floating upward she came, stepping gracefully over the stone curbing. Then she made a deep curtsy and in a clear, beautiful voice, she spoke:

“I am Leonora,

Royal daughter

Of most royal parents.

I come from a land most noble.

Among men renowned.

That tract of earth is not

Over mid-earth.

Fellow to many peopled lands.

But is a celestial Paradise,

Beautiful is all that land

With delight blest.

I come from there to Cornwall,

To mate with him who reigns.

And shower love and riches

All over his domain.”

Then, stretching her hands toward me, she cried to the priest, “Marry us forthwith, so we may, united, bless this fair land of Cornwall and its beloved people. Why should I care about leaving Paradise, when I can spend an eternity Cornwall?”

She was regal. From the golden crown which held her glorious locks together down to the silver slippers on her little feet she was a rare mate for any Overlord. Something of this must have impressed my people. Perhaps they felt that it was a happy ending to what might have turned out to be a difficult situation. At least they cried their approval of the marriage.

Then, through the forest, came the sound of silvery horns and the neighing of horses and the dull roll of chariots. Who should it be but Queen Broda in her golden chariot with my friend, her husband, by her side. What magic procedure produced her arrival at this time? When I looked at the priest he winked. Good! With such a partner I would go far.

“Hail, Cecil, Overlord of Cornwall!” she cried. “Hail and thrice hail! I heard you were adventuring into the land of matrimony tonight, and, if the lady by your side is your bride, then your adventurings will be sweet indeed. But you have many damsels here who are unwed. It came to me to select fifty of my young nobles and offer them in marriage to your lovely maidens. With such marriages the friendship of Ireland and Cornwall will truly be made too strong to break.”

Then into the moonlight came fifty Irishmen in purple robes and golden armlets and with gold chains around their necks, and they all had yellow hair. The Cornwall maidens could hardly wait till proper introductions were made. Then, by the same magic that had ruled the entire evening, the couples instantly fell in love and understandings were soon reached so that, after an hour of merry-making, there were fifty-one couples to be married by the priest instead of one.

Naturally, everyone went away happy. I entertained as many as I could in my castle, but at last came the hour when I was alone with my bride. She had slipped off her regal robes and draped her lovely body with a silken gown that more than amply proved her statement that she came from Paradise. I determined to be stern with her. Now was the time to find out who was to rule.

“Why did you do it?” I asked.

“Why should I not? That night when Sir Mallory talked with you I hid behind the velvet curtain. What one woman can do, another can. You gave me the dresses and jewels and I made up my mind to use them. Of course you remember the poem? You read it to me several times and I memorized it, making only the necessary changes.”

“Yes,” I admitted, “the poem is De Phoenice. Of course it was all very ingenious and you looked more beautiful than ever as you rose from the well.”

“Of course I had to practice that. It was hard to climb the ladder gracefully, but I would do anything for you, Cecil dear. And it all ended perfectly. Just like one of those stories you used to read to me.”

She looked at me so sweetly, she clung to me so tenderly, she looked so adoringly into my eyes, that all my reserve melted. I crushed her to me,

“Oh, Ruth, Ruth! I am so glad it happened this way. No other woman would have had the courage to do it. I am so glad that you are my Queen. I do not believe I shall ever be able to stop kissing you.”

We heard a half-smothered laugh. Turning, we faced the priest. “I just dropped in to say good-bye and wish you all kinds of happiness,” he said. “You are going far in the world, Cecil, Overlord of Cornwall, with such a woman as wife. By the way, would you mind if I borrowed your copy of Elephantis? There is a Cardinal in Italy, a friend of mine, who has expressed the desire to see it.”

“That is all right,” I answered. “Just take it with you. Now that Ruth and I are married, I do not believe I shall care to spend as much time with Elephantis as I did.”

“You will find me much nicer,” cooed Ruth, as she clung to me.