CHAPTER VII.

A RAINY EVENING STORY AT CARLISLE.

The Druids and Romans.--The Story of the Jolly Harper Man.--"When first I came to Merry Carlisle."

"Carlisle!" said Master Lewis, as the cars stopped at a busy looking city, the terminus of many lines of railway.

"Carlisle?" asked Frank Gray, glancing at the evidences of business energy about the station. "Carlisle? I have heard that the city was a thousand years old."

"An old city may grow," said Master Lewis, on the way to the hotel. "In 1800, Carlisle had but 4,000 inhabitants, now it has more than 30,000."

Carlisle was the ancient seat of the kings of Cambria, and was a Roman station in the early days of the Christian era. It was destroyed in 900 by the Danes, was ravaged by the Picts and Scots, was doubtless visited by Agricola, Severus, and Hadrian, and it has a part in the history of all the Border wars. Here half-forgotten kings lived; here Roman generals made their airy camps, and near it the grotesque ships of Roman emperors dropped their sails in the Solway. Here Christianity made an early advent, and the hideous rites of the Druid priests disappeared.

The ancient Druids worshipped in sacred groves; the oaks were their fanes and chapels, but they erected immense stone temples open to the sky, the moon, and stars: these were their cathedrals. In them were great stones used as altars of sacrifice, and on their altars the dark and mysterious priests offered up human victims to their gods.

The country around Carlisle abounds in Roman and Druidical relics, and in antiquities associated with the Border contests. At Penrith may be seen the ruins of a Druid temple, formed of sixty-seven immense stones, called "long Meg and her daughters."

The Isle of Man, the ancient and poetic Mona, whose grand scenery was once the supposed abode of the gods of the Saxons, lies near the Solway, and to it excursion steamers go from the western coast towns of England carrying pleasure seekers all the long summer days. Here the Druids gathered after the defeat of the Saxons by the Romans, and thither the Romans followed them, and fell upon the long-bearded priests and the wild torch-bearing priestesses, and put them to the sword. The island of Mona may be called the Druid's sepulchre.

The afternoon was rainy, and the boys, though impatient, were confined to the hotel.

In the evening Master Lewis said,--

"One of the most quaint and curious of old English ballads is associated with Carlisle, and is founded upon a funny story which illustrates the rude simplicity of the early English court. The ballad may be found in the Percy Society's Collections, which you may some day examine in the Boston Public Library, or indeed in any great library at home or in England. It is entitled 'The Jolly Harper Man.' I will relate it to you in the rather decorated style that I once heard it told to a company of young people at a Christmas gathering in one of the London charity schools. I hope it will interest you as much now as it did the boys and girls who listened to it then.

THE STORY OF THE JOLLY HARPER MAN AND HIS GOOD FORTUNE.

"Many, many years ago,--as long ago as the days of Fair Rosamond, when Henry Plantagenet and his unruly family governed England, and some think as long ago as old Henry I.,--there lived in Scotland a jolly harper man, who was accounted the most charming player in all the world. The children followed him in crowds through the streets, nor could they be stopped while he continued playing; even the animals in the woods sat on their haunches to listen when he wandered harping through the country; and the fair daughters of the nobles immediately fell in love as often as he approached their castles.

"King Henry had a wonderful horse--a very wonderful horse--named _Brownie_. He did not quite equal in dexterity and intelligence the high-flying animal of whom you have read in the 'Arabian Nights,' but he knew a great deal, and was a sort of philosopher among horses,--just as Newton was a philosopher among men. King Henry said he would not part with him for a province,--he would rather lose his crown. In this he was wise, for a new crown could have been as easily made as a stew-pan; but all the world, it may be, could not produce such another intelligent horse.

"King Henry had fine stables built for the animal,--a sort of horse palace. They were very strong, and were fastened by locks, and bars, and bolts, and were kept by gay grooms, and guarded day and night by soldiers, who never had been known to falter in their devotion to the interests of the king.

"So strongly was the animal guarded, that it came to be a proverb among the English yeomanry, that a person could no more do this or that hard thing than 'they could steal Brownie from the stables of the king.'

"The king liked the proverb; it was a compliment to his wisdom and sagacity. It made him feel good,--so good, in fact, that it led him one day quite to overshoot the mark in an effort that he made to increase the people's high opinion.

"'If any one,' said he, after a good dinner,--'if any one were smart enough to get Brownie out of his stables without my knowledge, I would for his cleverness forgive him, and give him an estate to return the animal.' Then he looked very wise, and felt very comfortable and very secure. 'But,' he added, 'evil overtake the man who gets caught in an attempt to steal my horse. Lucky will it be for him if his eyes ever see the light of the English sun again.'

"Then the report went abroad that the man who would be so shrewd as to get possession of the king's horse should have an estate, but that he who failed in the attempt should lose his head.

"The English court, at this time, was at Carlisle, near the Scottish border. The jolly harper man lived in the old town of Striveling, since called Stirling, at some distance from the border.

"The jolly harper man, like most people of genius, was very poor. He often played in the castles of the nobles, especially on festive occasions; and, as he contrasted the luxurious living of these fat lords with his own poverty, he became suddenly seized with a desire for wealth, and he remembered the proverb, which was old even then, that 'Where there is a will there is a way.'

"One autumn day, as he was travelling along the borders of Loch Lomond, a famous lake in the middle of Scotland, he remembered that there was a cave overlooking the lake from a thickly wooded hill, in which dwelt a hermit, who often was consulted by people in perplexity, and who bore the name of the 'Man of Wisdom.'

"He was not a wicked magician, nor did he pretend to have any dealings with the dead. He was gifted only with what was called clearness of vision; he could see into the secret of things, just as Zerah Colburn could see into difficult problems of mathematics, without study. Things that were darkness to others were as clear as sunlight to him. He lived on roots and herbs, and flourished so wonderfully on the diet, that what he didn't know was considered not worth knowing.

"It was near nightfall when the jolly harper man came to the famous hill. The sun was going down in splendor, and the moon was coming up, faint and shadowy, and turning into gold as the shadows deepened. Showers of silver began to fall on Loch Lomond, and to quiver over the valleys. It was an hour to fill a minstrel's heart with romantic feeling, and it lent its witchery to the heart of the jolly harper man.

"He wandered up the hill overlooking the lake, where dwelt the Man of Wisdom to whose mind all things were clear. He sat down near the mouth of the cave, partook of his evening meal, then, seizing his harp, began to play.

"He played a tune of wonderful sweetness and sadness, so soft and airy that the notes seemed to glide down the moonbeams, like the tinkling of fairy bells in the air. The wicked owl pricked up his ears to listen, and was so overcome that he wished he was a more respectable bird. The little animals came out of the bushes, and formed a circle around the jolly harper man, as though enchanted.

"The old hermit heard the strain, and came out to listen; and, because he had clearness of vision, he knew that music of such wonderful tenderness could be produced only by one who had great gifts of nature, and who also had some secret longing in his heart.

"So he came up to the jolly harper man, walking with his cane, his gray beard falling over his bosom, and his long white hair silvered in the moonlight.

"The jolly harper man secretly expected him, or at least he hoped that he would come out. Like the Queen of Sheba, he wished to test the wisdom of this new Solomon, and to inquire of him if there were no way of turning his wonderful musical genius into bags of gold.

"'Why do you wander here, my good harper?' asked the hermit, when the last strain melted away in low, airy echoes over the lake. 'There are neither lads to dance nor lassies to sing. This hill is my dominion, and the dominion of a hermit is solitude.'

"'See you not Loch Lomond silvered in the moon?' said the jolly harper man. 'Nature inspired me to touch my harp, and I love to play when the inspiration of Nature comes upon me.'

"The answer pleased the hermit as much as the music.

"'But why is your music so sad, my good harper man; what is there that you would have that fortune denies?'

"'Alas!' said the jolly harper man, 'I am very poor. My harpings all die in the air, and leave me but a scanty purse, poor clothing, and no roof over my head. You are a man of wisdom, to whom all things are clear. Point out to me the way to fortune, my wise hermit. I have a good liberal heart; you could not do a service to a more deserving man.'

"The old hermit sat down on a stone in silence, resting his chin on his staff. He seemed lost in profound thought. At last he looked up, and said slowly, pausing between each sentence,--

"'Beyond the border there is a famous country; in that country there is a palace; near the palace there is a stable, and in that stable there is a stately horse. That horse is the pride of the kingdom; the man who would get possession of that horse, without the king's knowledge, might exchange him for a province.'

"'Wonderful! wonderful! But--'

"'Near Striveling town there is a hill; on the hillside is a lot; in the lot is a fine gray mare, and beside the gray mare is a foal.'

"'Yes, yes! wonderful! but--'

"'I must now reveal to you one of the secrets of Nature. Separate that mare from the foal, though it be for hundreds of miles, and, as soon as she is free, she will return to her foal again. Nature has taught her how, just as she teaches the birds of passage the way to sunny islands; or the dog to find the lost hunter; or--'

"'Yes, yes; all very wonderful, but--'

"'In your hand you carry a harp; in the harp lies the power to make merry; a merry king makes a festive board, and festivity produces deep sleep in the morning hours.'

"The jolly harper man saw it all in a twinkling; the way to fortune lay before him clear as sunlight. Perhaps you, Tommy, do not get the idea so suddenly. If not, I fear you are not gifted like the good hermit with clearness of vision.

"The jolly harper man returned to Striveling the next day, after spending the night with the hermit on the borders of Loch Lomond.

"The following night he was summoned to play before two famous Scottish knights, Sir Charles and Sir Roger. They were very valiant, very rich, and, when put into good humor, were very liberal.

"The jolly harper man played merrily. The great hall of the castle seemed full of larks, nightingales, elves, and fairies.

"'Why, man,' said Sir Roger to Sir Charles, in a mellow mood, 'you and I could no more harp like that than we could gallop out of Carlisle on the horse of the king.'

"'Let me make a prophecy,' said the jolly harper man at this. 'I will one day ride _into_ Carlisle on the horse of the king, and will exchange the horse for an estate.'

"'And I will add to the estate five ploughs of land,' said Sir Roger; 'so that you never shall lack for a home in old Scotland.'

"'And I will add to the five ploughs of land five thousand pounds,' said Sir Charles; 'so that you never shall lack for good cheer.'

"The next morning the jolly harper man was seen riding out of Striveling town on a fine gray mare; but a little colt was heard whinnying alone in the high fenced lot on the side of the hill.

"It had been a day of high festival at Carlisle; it was now the cool of the summer eve; the horn of the returning hunter was heard in the forest, and gaily plumed knights and courtiers were seen approaching the illuminated palace, urging their steeds along the banks of the river Eden, that wound through the moonlit landscape like a ribbon of silver.

"The feast was at its height. The king's heart was merry. There only needed some novelty, now that the old diversions had come to an end, to complete the delights of the festive hours.

"Suddenly sweet sounds, as of a tuning harp, were heard without the palace. Then music of marvellous sweetness seemed to fill the air. The windows and doors of the palace were thrown open. The king himself left the table, and stood listening on the balcony.

"A merry tune followed the airy prelude; it made the nerves of the old nobles tingle as though they were young again; and, as for the king, his heart began to dance within him.

"'Come in! come in, my harper man!' shouted the king, shaking his sides with laughter, and patting a fat noble on the shoulder with delight. 'Come in, and let us hear some more of your harping.'

"The jolly harper man bowed very low. 'I shall be glad to serve your grace; but first, give me stabling for my good gray mare.'

"'Take the animal to my best stables,' said the king. ''Tis there I keep my Brownie, the finest horse in all the land.'

"The jolly harper man, accompanied by a gay groom, then took his horse to the stables; and, as soon as he came out of the stable-door, struck up his most lively and bewitching tune.

"The grooms all followed him, and the guards followed the grooms. The servants all came flocking into the hall as the jolly harper man entered, and the king's heart grew so merry, that all who came were made welcome, and given good cheer.

"The small hours of night came at last, and the grand people in the hall began to yawn, one after another. The jolly harper man now played a very soothing melody. The king began to yawn, opening his mouth each time a little wider than before, and finally he dozed off in his chair, his head tilted back, and his mouth stretched almost from ear to ear. The fat nobles, too, began to snore. First the king snored, and then the nobles, which was a very proper way of doing the thing,--the blissful sound passing from nose to nose, and making a circuit of the tables.

"The guards, grooms, and servants began to feel very comfortable, indeed; and, though it was their business to keep awake, their eyelids grew very heavy, and they began to reason that it would be perfectly safe to doze while their masters were sleeping. Who ever knew any mischief to happen when everybody was asleep?

"The jolly harper man now played his dreamiest music, and just as the cock crew for the first time in the morning, he had the satisfaction of seeing the last lackey fall asleep. He then blew out the lights, and crept nimbly forth to the stables. He found the stable door unlocked, and the gray mare kicking impatiently about, and whinnying for her foal.

"Now, what do you suppose the jolly harper man did? Guess, if you have Clearness of Vision. He took from his pocket a stout string, and tied the halter of the king's horse, the finest in all the land, to the halter of his own animal, and patting the fine gray mare on her side said: 'And now go home to your foal.'

"The next morning all was consternation in the palace. The king's horse was gone. The king sent for the jolly harper man, and said,--

"'My horse has escaped out of the stables, the finest animal in all the land!'

"'And where is my fine gray mare?' asked the jolly harper man.

"'Gone, too,' said the king.

"'I will tell you what I think,' said the jolly harper man, with wonderful confidence. 'I think that there has been a rogue in the town.'

"The king, with equal wisdom, favored the idea, and the jolly harper man made an early escape that morning from the palace.

"Then the jolly harper man went as fast as he could to Striveling. Of course, he found his fine gray mare in the lot with her foal, and the king's horse tied to her halter; and, of course, he rode the noble animal into Carlisle; and presenting himself before the two knights, Sir Roger and Sir Charles, claimed his five ploughs of land and five thousand pounds.

"'Go to! go to!' said Sir Roger, pointing at him in derision; and Sir Charles laughed a mighty laugh of scorn. 'The man does not live who could ride away the king's Brownie! Go to!'

"'The king's Brownie stands in your own court!' cried the jolly harper man; and Sir Roger and Sir Charles paid their forfeits without another word.

"Then the jolly harper man returned the king's horse to the royal owner: and who ever heard of such a thing as a king breaking his promise? Not the jolly harper man, you may be sure."

"Is the story a true one?" asked Tommy Toby.

"The story, as I heard it, was acknowledged to be considerably embellished; and I have tried to make it as attractive as possible. You should always remember this, that a good historic story gathers color by time. The stories of Faust, Macbeth, King Lear, William Tell, Robert the Devil, and many others I might name, have but meagre facts for a starting point."

"I know a story of Nottingham, that I think as funny as that," said Tommy. "It is about the Wise Men of Gotham."

"We will hear it when we go to Nottingham," said Master Lewis. "I think we will go there at once, after an excursion to the English Lakes."

The next morning George Howe and Leander Towle left the party for Birmingham, London, and Paris, as their means would not admit of their making easy zigzag journeys through England, in the way that Master Lewis had planned for the other boys. They agreed to meet Master Lewis and their companions in London, on their return from Paris, at which time they would have completed their tour, and would be obliged to leave for home before the others made their journey through Normandy.

Ernest Wynn, as we have said, was very fond of old English and Scottish ballads, and he never lost any good opportunity to hear a new song.

While the party were talking over their plans for visiting English places, the sound of a piano in an adjoining room fell upon Ernest's ear.

He left his companions, and, going into the open room from which the music came, listened attentively to the playing.

"Do you sing?" asked Ernest of the player, who was a pleasant-faced little miss about ten or twelve years of age.

"Sometimes."

"I like music. Will you not sing for me?"

"If I can. What would you have me sing?"

"Oh, something about Carlisle: something that I would not hear at home."

"Where is your home?"

"In America."

"In America! What, so far? Perhaps you would like to hear 'Mona's Waters?'"

"Yes," said Ernest.

The song was very winningly sung.

"Now perhaps you would like to hear 'When first I came to merry Carlisle'?"

Ernest smiled.

"It doesn't mean you at all. It was a girl who lost her lover in one of the Border Wars.

"'When first I came to merry Carlisle, Ne'er was a town sae sweetly seeming: The white rose flaunted o'er the wall, The thistled banners far were streaming.

"'When next I came to merry Carlisle, Oh sad, sad, seemed the town, an' eerie! The auld, auld men came out and wept, O maiden! come ye to seek yere dearie?'"

"Thank you for that song," said Ernest. "I have heard 'Highland Mary' sung at Ayr, and shall always remember it. And I shall also be pleased to recollect,--

"'When first I came to merry Carlisle.'"

"And 'the girl I left behind me,'" said Tommy Toby to Ernest, softly.

The Miss saw the point of the joke, and, as it was politely spoken, received the implied compliment with becoming modesty and good-humor, saying that she should also remember very pleasantly the visit of the Zigzag Club to her father's house.