VI.
The Legend of Herne the Hunter.
"Nearly a century and a half ago," commenced Cutbeard, about the middleof the reign of Richard the Second, there was among the keepers of theforest a young man named Herne. He was expert beyond his fellows in allmatters of woodcraft, and consequently in great favour with the king,who was himself devoted to the chase. Whenever he stayed at the castle,King Richard, like our own royal Harry, would pass his time in hunting,hawking, or shooting with the long-bow; and on all these occasions theyoung keeper was his constant attendant. If a hart was to be chased,Herne and his two black hounds of Saint Hubert's breed would hunt himdown with marvellous speed; if a wild boar was to be reared, a badgerdigged out, a fox unkennelled, a marten bayed, or an otter vented, Hernewas chosen for the task. No one could fly a falcon so well as Herne--noone could break up a deer so quickly or so skilfully as him. But inproportion as he grew in favour with the king, the young keeper washated by his comrades, and they concerted together how to ruin him.All their efforts, however, were ineffectual, and rather tended to hisadvantage than injury.
"One day it chanced that the king hunted in the forest with hisfavourite, the Earl of Oxford, when a great deer of head wasunharboured, and a tremendous chase ensued, the hart leading hispursuers within a few miles of Hungerford, whither the borders of theforest then extended. All the followers of the king, even the Earl ofOxford, had by this time dropped off, and the royal huntsman was onlyattended by Herne, who kept close behind him. At last the hart, drivento desperation, stood at bay, and gored the king's horse as he came upin such a manner that it reared and threw its rider. Another instant,and the horns of the infuriated animal would have been plunged into thebody of the king, if Herne had not flung himself between the prostratemonarch and his assailant, and received the stroke intended for him.Though desperately wounded, the young hunter contrived slightly to raisehimself, and plunged his knife into the hart's throat, while the kingregained his feet.
"Gazing with the utmost concern at his unfortunate deliverer, KingRichard demanded what he could do for him.
"'Nothing, sire--nothing,' replied Herne, with a groan. I shall requirenothing but a grave from you, for I have received a wound that willspeedily bring me to it.'
"'Not so, I trust, good fellow,' replied the king, in a tone meant tobe encouraging, though his looks showed that his heart misgave him; 'mybest leech shall attend you.'
"'No skill will avail me now,' replied Herne sadly. 'A hurt from hart'shorn bringeth to the bier.'
"'I hope the proverb will not be justified in thy case,' rejoined theking; 'and I promise thee, if thou dost recover, thou shalt have thepost of head keeper of the forest, with twenty nobles a year for wages.If, unhappily, thy forebodings are realised, I will give the same sum tobe laid out in masses for thy soul.'
"'I humbly thank your highness,' replied the young man, 'and I acceptthe latter offer, seeing it is the only one likely to profit me.'
"With this he put his horn to his lips, and winding the dead mot feebly,fell back senseless. Much moved, the king rode off for succour; andblowing a lusty call on his bugle, was presently joined by the Earlof Oxford and some of his followers, among whom were the keepers. Thelatter were secretly rejoiced on hearing what had befallen Herne, butthey feigned the greatest affliction, and hastened with the king to thespot where the body was lying stretched out beside that of the hart.
"'It is almost a pity his soul cannot pass away thus,' said KingRichard, gazing compassionately at him, 'for he will only revive toanguish and speedy death.'"
"'Your highness is right,' replied the chief keeper, a grim oldman named Osmond Crooke, kneeling beside him, and half drawing hishunting-knife; 'it were better to put him out of his misery.'
"'What! slay the man who has just saved my own life!' cried the king.'I will consent to no such infamous deed. I would give a large reward toany one who could cure him.'
"As the words were uttered, a tall dark man, in a strange garb,and mounted on a black wild-looking steed, whom no one had hithertoobserved, sprang to the ground and advanced towards the king.
"'I take your offer, sire,' said this personage, in a harsh voice. Iwill cure him.'
"'Who art thou, fellow?' demanded King Richard doubtfully.
"'I am a forester,' replied the tall man, 'but I understand somewhat ofchirurgery and leechcraft.'
"'And woodcraft, too, I'll be sworn, fellow,' said the king 'Thou hast,or I am mistaken, made free with some of my venison.'
"'He looks marvellously like Arnold Sheafe, who was outlawed fordeer-stealing,' said Osmond Crooke, regarding him steadfastly.
"'I am no outlaw, neither am I called Arnold Sheafe,' replied the other.'My name is Philip Urswick, and I can render a good account of myselfwhen it shall please the king's highness to interrogate me. I dwell onthe heath near Bagshot, which you passed today in the chase, and where Ijoined you.'
"'I noted you not,' said Osmond.
"'Nor I--nor I!' cried the other keepers.
"'That may be; but I saw you,' rejoined Urswick contemptuously; 'and Itell you there is not one among you to be compared with the brave hunterwho lies there. You have all pronounced his case hopeless. I repeat Ican cure him if the king will make it worth my while.'
"'Make good thy words, fellow,' replied the king; 'and thou shalt notonly be amply rewarded, but shalt have a free pardon for any offencethou mayest have committed.'
"'Enough,' replied Urswick. And taking a large, keen-edged hunting-knifefrom his girdle, he cut off the head of the hart close to the pointwhere the neck joins the skull, and then laid it open from the extremityof the under-lip to the nuke. 'This must be bound on the head of thewounded man,' he said.
"The keepers stared in astonishment. But the king commanded that thestrange order should be obeyed. Upon which the bleeding skull wasfastened upon the head of the keeper with leathern thongs.
"'I will now answer for his perfect cure in a month's time,' saidUrswick to the king; 'but I shall require to watch over him myself tillall danger is at an end. I pray your highness to command these keepersto transport him to my hut.'
"'You hear what he says, knaves?' cried the king; 'do his bidding, andcarefully, or ye shall answer to me with your lives.'
"Accordingly a litter was formed with branches of trees, and on this thebody of Herne, with the hart's head still bound to it, was conveyed bythe keepers to Urswick's hut, a small dwelling, situated in the wildestpart of Bagshot Heath. After placing the body upon a bed of dried fern,the keepers were about to depart, when Osmond Crooke observed to theforester, 'I am now certain thou art Arnold Sheafe.'
"'It matters not who I am, since I have the king's pardon,' replied theother, laughing disdainfully.
"'Thou hast yet to earn it,' said Osmond.
"'Leave that to me,' replied Urswick. 'There is more fear that thou wiltlose thy post as chief keeper, which the king has promised to Herne,than that I shall fail.'
"'Would the deer had killed him outright!' growled Osmond.
"And the savage wish was echoed by the other keepers. "'I see you allhate him bitterly,' said Urswick. 'What will you give me for revenge?'
"'We have little to give, save a fat buck on occasions,'replied Osmond;'and, in all likelihood, thou canst help thyself to venison.'
"'Will you swear to grant the first request I may make of you--providedit shall be in your power?' demanded Urswick.
"'Readily' they replied.
"'Enough' said Urswick. 'I must keep faith with the king. Herne willrecover, but he will lose all his skill as an archer, all his craft as ahunter.'
"'If thou canst accomplish this thou art the fiend himself' criedOsmond, trembling.
"'Fiend or not,' replied Urswick, with a triumphant laugh, 'ye have madea compact with me, and must fulfil it. Now begone. I must attend to thewounded man.'
"And the keepers, full of secret misgiving, departed.
"At the precise time promised, Herne, attended by Urswick, pre
sentedhimself to the king. He looked thin and pale, but all danger was past.King Richard gave the forester a purse full of nobles, and added asilver bugle to the gift. He then appointed Herne his chief keeper,hung a chain of gold round his neck, and ordered him to be lodged in thecastle.
"About a week after this, Herne, having entirely regained his strength,accompanied the king on a hunting expedition to the forest, and theyhad scarcely entered it when his horse started and threw him. Up tothat moment such an accident had never happened to him, for he was anexcellent horseman, and he arose greatly discomfited, while the keeperseyed each other askance. Soon after this a buck was started, and thoughHerne was bravely mounted on a black steed bestowed on him on account ofits swiftness by the king, he was the last in the chase.
"'Thou art out of practice,' said the king, laughing, as he came up.
"'I know not what ails me,' replied Herne gloomily.
"'It cannot be thy steed's fault,' said the king, 'for he is usually asfleet as the wind. But I will give thee an opportunity of gaining creditin another way. Thou seest yon buck. He cannot be seventy yards off, andI have seen thee hit the mark at twice the distance. Bring him down.'
"Herne raised his crossbow, and let fly the bolt; but it missed itsmark, and the buck, startled by the noise, dashed down the brake whollyuninjured.
"King Richard's brow grew dark, and Herne uttered an exclamation of rageand despair.
"'Thou shalt have a third and yet easier trial,' said the king. OldOsmond Crooke shall lend thee his bow, and thy quarry shall be yonmagot-pie.'
"As he spoke, the arrow sped. But it quivered in the trunk of the tree,some yards from the bird. The unfortunate shooter looked distracted;but King Richard made no remark, until, towards the close of the day,he said to him, 'Thou must regain thy craft, friend Herne, or I cannotcontinue thee as my chief keeper.'
"The keepers congratulated each other in secret, for they felt thattheir malice was about to be gratified.
"The next day Herne went forth, as he thought, alone, but he was watchedby his enemies. Not a shaft would go true, and he found that he hadcompletely lost his mastery over hound and horse. The day after that heagain rode forth to hunt with the king, and his failures made him thelaughing-stock of the party. Richard at length dismissed him with thesewords, 'Take repose for a week, and then thou shalt have a furthertrial. If thou dost not then succeed, I must perforce discharge theefrom thy post.'
"Instead of returning to the castle, Herne rode off wildly into theforest, where he remained till eventide. He then returned with ghastlylooks and a strange appearance, having the links of a rusty chain whichhe had plucked from a gibbet hanging from his left arm, and the hart'santlered skull, which he had procured from Urswick, fixed like a helmupon his head. His whole demeanour showed that he was crazed; and hiscondition, which might have moved the compassion of his foes, onlyprovoked their laughter. After committing the wildest extravagances, heburst from all restraint, and disappeared among the trees of the homepark.
"An hour after this a pedlar, who was crossing the park from Datchet,found him suspended by a rope from a branch of the oak-tree which youhave all seen, and which bears his name. Despair had driven him to thedreadful deed. Instead of cutting him down, the pedlar ran to the castleto relate what he had witnessed; and the keepers, satisfied that theirrevenge was now fully accomplished, hastened with him to the tree. Butthe body was gone; and all that proclaimed it had been there, was therope hanging from the branch. Search was everywhere made for the missingbody, but without effect. When the matter was related to the king he wasmuch troubled, and would fain have had masses said for the repose of thesoul of the unfortunate keeper, but the priests refused to perform them,alleging that he had 'committed self-destruction, and was therefore outof the pale of the Church.
"On that night, a terrible thunderstorm occurred--as terrible, it maybe, as that of last night--and during its continuance, the oak on whichHerne had hanged himself was blasted by the lightning.
"Old Osmond was immediately reinstated in his post of chief keeper; buthe had little time for rejoicing, for he found that the same spell thathad bound Herne had fallen upon him. His bolts and arrows went wide oftheir mark, his hounds lost their scent, and his falcon would not belured back. Half frantic, and afraid of exposing himself to the tauntsof his companions, he feigned illness, and left his comrade, RogerBarfoot, to take his place. But the same ill-luck befell Barfoot, andhe returned in woeful plight, without a single head of game. Four otherswere equally unfortunate, and it was now clear that the whole party werebewitched.
"Luckily, the king had quitted the castle, but they felt certain theyshould be dismissed on his return, if not more severely punished. Atlast, after taking counsel together, they resolved to consult Urswick,who they doubted not could remove the spell. Accordingly, they went toBagshot Heath, and related their story to him. When they had done, hesaid, 'The curse of Herne's blood is upon you, and can only be removedin one way. As you return to the castle, go to the tree on which hedestroyed himself, and you may learn how to act.'
"The keepers would have questioned him further, but he refused toanswer, and dismissed them.
"The shades of evening had fallen as they quitted Bagshot; and it wasmidnight as they entered the home park, and proceeded towards the fataloak. It was pitchy dark, and they could only distinguish the tree byits white, scathed trunk. All at once, a blue flame, like awill-o'-the-wisp, appeared, flitted thrice round the tree, and thenremained stationary, its light falling upon a figure in a wild garb,with a rusty chain hanging from its left arm, and an antlered helm uponits head. They knew it to be Herne, and instantly fell down before him,while a burst of terrible laughter sounded in their ears.
"Without heeding them further, the spirit darted round the tree,rattling its chain, and uttering appalling imprecations. It thenstopped, and turning to the terrified beholders, bade them, in a hollowvoice, bring hounds and horses as for the chase on the following nightand vanished.
"Filled with dread, the keepers returned home, and the next day OldOsmond again sought the forester, and told him what had occurred.
"'You must obey the spirit's injunctions, or worse mischief will befallyou,' said Urswick. 'Go to the tree, mounted as for a hunting-party,and take the black steed given to Herne by the king, and the two blackhounds with you. You will see what will ensue.' And without another wordhe dismissed him.
"Osmond told his comrades what the forester had said, and though theywere filled with alarm, they resolved upon compliance. At midnight,therefore, they rode towards the tree with the black hounds in leash,and leading Herne's favourite horse, saddled and bridled. As they drewnear, they again saw the terrible shape stalking round the tree, andheard the fearful imprecations.
"His spells ended, Herne called to Osmond to bring him his steed; andthe old man tremblingly obeyed. In an instant the mysterious beingvaulted on its back, and in a voice of resistless authority cried, 'Tothe forest!--to the forest!' With this, he dashed forward, and the wholeparty, hounds and men, hurried after him.
"They rode at a furious pace for five or six miles over the great park,the keepers wondering where their unearthly leader was taking them, andalmost fancying they were hurrying to perdition, when they descendeda hillside leading to the marsh, and halted before a huge beech-tree,where Herne dismounted and pronounced certain mystic words, accompanyingthem with strange gestures.
"Presently, he became silent and motionless. A flash of fire then burstfrom the roots of the tree, and the forester Urswick stood before him.But his aspect was more terrible and commanding than it had seemedheretofore to the keepers.
"'Welcome, Herne,' he cried; 'welcome, lord of the forest. And you hiscomrades, and soon to be his followers, welcome too. The time is comefor the fulfilment of your promise to me. I require you to form a bandfor Herne the Hunter, and to serve him as leader. Swear to obey him, andthe spell that hangs over you shall be broken. If not, I leave you tothe king's justice.'
"Not da
ring to refuse compliance, the keepers took the oathproposed--and a fearful one it was! As soon as it was Urswick vanished,as he came, in a flash of fire. Herne, then commanded the others todismount, and made them prostrate themselves before him, and pay himhomage.
"This done, he blew a strike on his horn, rode swiftly up the hillside,and a stag being unharboured, the chase commenced. Many a fat buck washunted and slaughtered that night; and an hour before daybreak, Hernecommanded them to lay the four finest and fattest at the foot of thebeech-tree, and then dismissed them, bidding them meet him at midnightat the scathed oak in the home park.
"They came as they were commanded; but fearful of detection, theyadopted strange disguises, not unlike those worn by the caitiffs whowere put to death, a few weeks ago, by the king in the great park.Night after night they thus went forth, thinning the herds of deer,and committing other outrages and depredations. Nor were their darkproceedings altogether unnoticed. Belated travellers crossing the forestbeheld them, and related what they had seen; others watched for them,but they were so effectually disguised that they escaped detection.
"At last, however, the king returned to the castle, and accounts of thestrange doings in the forest were instantly brought to him. Astonishedat what he heard, and determined to ascertain the truth of thestatement, he ordered the keepers to attend him that night in anexpedition to the forest, when he hoped to encounter the demon huntsmanand his hand. Much alarmed, Osmond Crooke, who acted as spokesman,endeavoured, by representing the risk he would incur, to dissuade theking from the enterprise; but he would not be deterred, and they nowgave themselves up for lost.
"As the castle clock tolled forth the hour of midnight, Richard,accompanied by a numerous guard, and attended by the keepers, issuedfrom the gates, and rode towards the scathed oak. As they drew near thetree, the figure of Herne, mounted on his black steed, was discernedbeneath it. Deep fear fell upon all the beholders, but chiefly upon theguilty keepers, at the sight. The king, however, pressed forward, andcried, 'Why does thou disturb the quietude of night, accursed spirit?'
"Because I desire vengeance!' replied Herne, in a hollow voice. 'Iwas brought to my present woeful condition by Osmond Crooke and hiscomrades.'
"'But you died by your own hand,--did you not?' demanded King Richard.
"'Yea,' replied Herne; 'but I was driven to the deed by an infernalspell laid upon me by the malice of the wretches I have denounced. Hangthem upon this tree, and I will trouble these woods no longer whilstthou reignest!'
"The king looked round at the keepers. They all remained obdurate,except Roger Barfoot, who, falling on his knees, confessed his guilt,and accused the others.
"It is enough,' cried the king to Herne; 'they shall all suffer fortheir offence.'
"Upon this a flash of fire enveloped the spirit and his horse, and hevanished.
"The king kept his word. Osmond and his comrades were all hanged uponthe scathed tree, nor was Herne seen again in the forest whileRichard sat upon the throne. But he reappeared with a new band at thecommencement of the rule of Henry the Fourth, and again hunted the deerat night. His band was destroyed, but he defied all attempts at capture;and so it has continued to our own time, for not one of the sevenmonarchs who have held the castle since Richard's day have been able todrive him from the forest."
"Nor will the present monarch be able to drive him thence," said a deepvoice. "As long as Windsor Forest endures, Herne the Hunter will hauntit."
All turned at the exclamation and saw that it proceeded from a tall darkman, in an archer's garb, standing behind Simon Quanden's chair.
"Thou hast told thy legend fairly enough, good clerk of the kitchen,"continued this personage; "but thou art wrong on many material points."
"I have related the story as it was related to me," said Cutbeardsomewhat nettled at the remark; "but perhaps you will set me right whereI have erred."
"It is true that Herne was a keeper in the reign of Richard the Second,"replied the tall archer. "It is true also that he was expert in allmatters of woodcraft, and that he was in high favour with the king; buthe was bewitched by a lovely damsel, and not by a weird forester. Hecarried off a nun and dwelt with her in a cave in the forest where heassembled his brother keepers, and treated them to the king's venisonand the king's wine.
"A sacreligious villain and a reprobate!" exclaimed Launcelot Rutter.
"His mistress was fair enough, I will warrant her," said Kit Coo.
"She was the very image of this damsel," rejoined the tall archer,pointing to Mabel, "and fair enough to work his ruin, for it was throughher that the fiend tempted him. The charms that proved his undoing werefatal to her also, for in a fit of jealousy he slew her. The remorseoccasioned by this deed made him destroy himself."
"Well, your version of the legend may be the correct one, for aught Iknow, worthy sir," said Cutbeard; "but I see not that it accounts forHerne's antlers so well as mine, unless he were wedded to the nun, whoyou say played him false. But how came you to know she resembled MabelLyndwood?"
"Ay, I was thinking of that myself," said Simon Quanden. "How do youknow that, master?"
"Because I have seen her picture," replied the tall archer.
"Painted by Satan's chief limner, I suppose?" rejoined Cutbeard.
"He who painted it had seen her," replied the tall archer sternly. "But,as I have said, it was the very image of this damsel."
And as he uttered the words, he quitted the kitchen.
"Who is that archer?" demanded Cutbeard, looking after him. But no onecould answer the question, nor could any one tell when he had enteredthe kitchen.
"Strange!" exclaimed Simon Quanden, crossing himself. "Have you everseen him before, Mabel?"
"I almost think I have," she replied, with a slight shudder.
"I half suspect he is Herne himself," whispered the Duke of Shoreditchto Paddington.
"It may be," responded the other; "his glance made my blood run cold."
"You look somewhat fatigued, sweetheart," said Deborah, observingMabel's uneasiness. "Come with me and I will show you to a chamber."
Glad to escape Mabel followed the good dame out of the kitchen, and theyascended a winding staircase which brought them to a commodious chamberin the upper part of Henry the Seventh's buildings, where Deborah satdown with her young charge and volunteered a great deal of good adviceto her, which the other listened to with becoming attention, andpromised to profit by it.
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