The Earl Of Mar's Daughter
:
Tales From Scottish Ballads
"It was intil a pleasant time,
Upon a simmer's day,
The noble Earl of Mar's daughter
Went forth to sport and play."
Long, long ago, in a country far away over the sea, there lived a Queen
who had an only son. She was very rich, and very great, and the only
thing that troubled her was that her son did not want to get married in
the very least.
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In vain his mother gave grand receptions and court balls, to which she
asked all the young countesses and baronesses, in the hope that the
Prince would take a fancy to one of them. He would talk to them, and
dance with them, and be very polite, but, when his mother hinted that it
was time that he looked for a wife, he only shrugged his shoulders and
said that there was not a pretty girl amongst them.
And perhaps there was some truth in his answer, for the maidens of that
country were all fat, and little, and squat, and everyone of them
waddled like a duck when she walked.
"If thou canst not find a wife to thy liking at home," the Queen would
say, "go to other countries and see the maidens there; surely somewhere
thou wouldst find one whom thou couldst love."
But Prince Florentine, for that was his name, only shook his head and
laughed.
"And marry a shrew," he would say mockingly; "for when the maidens heard
my name, and knew for what purpose I had come, they would straightway
smile their sweetest, and look their loveliest, and I would have no
chance of knowing what manner of maidens they really were."
Now the Queen had a very wonderful gift. She could change a man's shape,
so that he would appear to be a hare, or a cat, or a bird; and at last
she proposed to the Prince that she should turn him into a dove, and
then he could fly away to foreign countries, and go up and down until he
saw some maiden whom he thought he could really love, and then he could
go back to his real shape, and get to know her in the usual way.
This proposal pleased Prince Florentine very much. "He would take good
care not to fall in love with anyone," he told himself; but, as he hated
the stiffness and ceremony of court life, it seemed to him that it would
be good fun to be free to go about as he liked and to see a great many
different countries.
So he agreed to his mother's wishes; and one day she waved a little
golden wand over his head, and gave him a very nasty draught to drink,
made from black beetles' wings, and wormwood, and snails' ears, and
hedgehogs' spikes, and before he knew where he was, he was changed into
a beautiful gray dove, with a white ring round its neck.
At first when he saw himself in this changed guise he was frightened;
but his mother quickly tied a tiny charm round his neck, and hid it
under his soft gray feathers, and taught him how to press it against his
heart until a fragrant odour came from it, and as soon as he did this,
he became once more a handsome young man.
Then he was very pleased, and kissed her, and said farewell, promising
to return some day with a beautiful young bride; and after that he
spread his wings, and flew away in search of adventure.
For a year and a day he wandered about, now visiting this country, now
that, and he was so amused and interested in all the strange and
wonderful things that he saw, that he never once wanted to turn himself
into a man, and he completely forgot that his mother expected that he
was looking out for a wife.
At last, one lovely summer's day, he found himself flying over broad
Scotland, and, as the sun was very hot, he looked round for somewhere to
shelter from its rays. Just below him was a stately castle, surrounded
by magnificent trees.
"This is just what I want," he said to himself; "I will rest here until
the sun goes down."
So he folded his wings, and sank gently down into the very heart of a
wide-spreading oak tree, near which, as good fortune would have it,
there was a field of ripening grain, which provided him with a hearty
supper. Here, for many days, the Prince took up his abode, partly
because he was getting rather tired of flying about continually, and
partly because he began to feel interested in a lovely young girl who
came out of the castle every day at noon, and amused herself with
playing at ball under the spreading branches of the great tree.
Generally she was quite alone, but once or twice an old lady, evidently
her governess, came with her, and sat on a root, which formed a
comfortable seat, and worked at some fine embroidery, while her pupil
amused herself with her ball.
Prince Florentine soon found out that the maiden's name was Grizel, and
that she was the only child of the Earl of Mar, a nobleman of great
riches and renown. She was very beautiful, so beautiful, indeed, that
the Prince sat and feasted his eyes upon her all the time that she was
at play, and then, when she had gone home, he could not sleep, but, sat
with wide-open eyes, staring into the warm twilight, and wondering how
he could get to know her. He could not quite make up his mind whether he
should use his mother's charm, and take his natural shape, and walk
boldly up to the castle and crave her father's permission to woo her, or
fly away home, and send an ambassador with a train of nobles, and all
the pomp that belonged to his rank, to ask for her hand.
The question was settled for him one day, however, and everything
happened quite differently from what he expected.
On a very hot afternoon, Lady Grizel came out, accompanied by her
governess, and, as usual, the old lady sat down to her embroidery, and
the girl began to toss her ball. But the sun was so very hot that by and
by the governess laid down her needle and fell fast asleep, while her
pupil grew tired of running backwards and forwards, and, sitting down,
began to toss her ball right up among the branches. All at once it
caught in a leafy bough, and when she was gazing up, trying to see where
it was, she caught sight of a beautiful gray dove, sitting watching her.
Now, as I have said, Lady Grizel was an only child, and she had had few
playmates, and all her life she had been passionately fond of animals,
and when she saw the bird, she stood up and called gently, "Oh
Coo-me-doo, come down to me, come down." Then she whistled so softly and
sweetly, and stretched out her white hands above her head so
entreatingly, that Prince Florentine left his branch, and flew down and
alighted gently on her shoulder.
The delight of the maiden knew no bounds. She kissed and fondled her new
pet, which perched quite familiarly on her arm, and promised him a
latticed silver cage, with bars of solid gold.
The bird allowed the girl to carry him home, and soon the beautiful cage
was made, and hung up on the wall of her chamber, just inside the
window, and Coo-me-doo, as the dove was named, placed inside.
He seemed perfectly happy, and grew so tame that soon he went with his
mistress wherever she went, and all the people who lived near the castle
grew quite accustomed to seeing the Earl's daughter driving or riding
with her tame dove on her shoulder.
When she went out to play at ball, Coo-me-doo would go with her, and
perch up in his old place, and watch her with his bright dark eyes. One
day when she was tossing the ball among the branches it rolled away, and
for a long time she could not find it, and at last a voice behind her
said, "Here it is," and, turning round, she saw to her astonishment a
handsome young man dressed all in dove-gray satin, who handed her the
ball with a stately bow.
Lady Grizel was frightened, for no strangers were allowed inside her
father's park, and she could not think where he had come from; but just
as she was about to call out for help, the young man smiled and said,
"Lady, dost thou not know thine own Coo-me-doo?"
Then she glanced up into the branches, but the bird was gone, and as she
hesitated (for the stranger spoke so kindly and courteously she did not
feel very much alarmed), he took her hand in his.
"'Tis true, my own love," he said; "but if thou canst not recognise thy
favourite when his gray plumage is changed into gray samite, mayhap thou
wilt know him when the gray samite is once more changed into softest
feathers; and, pressing a tiny gold locket which he wore, to his heart,
he vanished, and in his stead was her own gray dove, hovering down to
his resting-place on her shoulder.
"Oh, I cannot understand it, I cannot understand it," she cried, putting
up her hand to stroke her pet; but the feathers seemed to slip from
between her fingers, and once more the gallant stranger stood before
her.
"Sit thee down and rest, Sweetheart," he said, leading her to the root
where her governess was wont to sit, while he stretched himself on the
turf at her feet, "and I will explain the mystery to thee."
Then he told her all. How his mother was a great Queen away in a far
country, and how he was her only son. Lady Grizel's fears were all gone
now, and she laughed merrily as he described the girls who lived in his
own country, and told her how little and fat they were, and how they
waddled when they walked; but when he told her how his mother had used
her magic and turned him into a dove, in order that he might bring home
a wife, her face grew grave and pale.
"My father hath sworn a great oath," she said, "that I shall never wed
with anyone who lives out of Scotland; so I fear we must part, and thou
must go elsewhere in search of a bride."
But Prince Florentine shook his head.
"Nay," he said, "but rather than part from thee, I will live all my life
as a dove in a cage, if I may only be near thee, and talk to thee when
we are alone."
"But what if my father should want me to wed with some Scottish lord?"
asked the maiden anxiously; "couldst thou bear to sit in thy cage and
sing my wedding song?"
"That could I not," answered Prince Florentine, drawing her closer to
him; "and in order to prevent such a terrible thing happening,
Sweetheart, we must find ways and means to be married at once, and then,
come what may, no one can take thee from me. This very evening I must go
and speak to thy father."
Now the Earl of Mar was a violent man, and his fear lay on all the
country-side--even his only child was afraid of him--and when her lover
made this suggestion she clung to him and begged him with tears in her
eyes not to do this. She told him what a fiery temper the Earl had, and
how she feared that when he heard his story he would simply order him to
be hanged on the nearest tree, or thrown into the dungeon to starve to
death. So for a long time they sat and talked, now thinking of one plan,
now of another, but none of them seemed of any use, and it seemed as
though Prince Florentine must either remain in the shape of her pet
dove, or go away altogether.
All at once Lady Grizel clapped her hands. "I have it, I have it," she
cried; "why cannot we be married secretly? Old Father John out at the
chapel on the moor could marry us; he is so old and so blind, he would
never recognise me if I went bare-headed and bare-footed like a gipsy
girl; and thou must go dressed as a woodman, with muddy shoes, and an
axe over thine arm. Then we can dwell together as we are doing now, and
no one will suspect that the Earl of Mar's daughter is married to her
tame pet dove, which sits on her shoulder, and goes with her wherever
she goes. And if the worst comes to the worst, and some gallant Scotch
wooer appears, why, then we must confess what we have done, and bear the
consequences together."
A few days later, in the early morning, when old Father John, the priest
who served the little chapel which stood on the heather-covered moor,
was preparing to say Mass, he saw a gipsy girl, bare-headed and
bare-footed, steal into the chapel, followed by a stalwart young
woodman, clad all in sober gray, with a bright wood-axe gleaming on his
shoulder.
In a few words they told him the purpose for which they had come, and
after he had said Mass the kindly old priest married them, and gave them
his blessing, never doubting but that they were a couple of simple
country lovers who would go home to some tiny cottage in the woods near
by. Little did he think that only half a mile away a page boy, wearing
the livery of the Earl of Mar, was patiently waiting with a white
palfrey until his young mistress should return, accompanied by her gray
dove, from visiting an old nurse, "who," she told her governess, "was
teaching her how to spin."
And little did her father, or her governess, or any of the servants at
the castle, think that Lady Grizel was leading a double life, and that
the gray dove which was always with her, and which she seemed to love
more than any other of her pets, was a gray dove only when anyone else
was by, but turned into a gallant young Prince, who ate, and laughed,
and talked with her the moment they were alone.
Strange to say, their secret was never found out for seven long years,
even although every year a little son was born to them, and carried away
under the gray dove's wing to the country far over the sea. At these
times Lady Grizel used to cry and be very sad, for she dare not keep her
babies beside her, but had to kiss them, and let them go, to be brought
up by their Grandmother whom she had never seen.
Every time Prince Florentine carried home a new baby, he brought back
tidings to his wife how tall, and strong, and brave her other sons were
growing, and tender messages from the Queen, his mother, telling her how
she hoped that one day she would be able to come home with her husband,
and then they would be all together.
But year after year went by, and still the fierce old Earl lived on, and
there seemed little hope that poor Lady Grizel would ever be able to go
and live in her husband's land, and she grew pale and thin. And year
after year her father grew more and more angry with her, because he
wanted her to marry one of the many wooers who came to crave her hand;
but she would not.
"I love to dwell alone with my sweet Coo-me-doo," she used to say, and
the old Earl would stamp his foot, and go out of her chamber muttering
angry words in his vexation.
At last, one day, a very great and powerful nobleman arrived with his
train to ask the Earl's daughter to marry him. He was very rich, and
owned four beautiful castles, and the Earl said, "Now, surely, my
daughter will consent."
But she only gave her old answer, "I love best to live alone with my
sweet Coo-me-doo."
Then her father slammed the door in a rage, and went into the great
hall, where all his men-at-arms were, and swore a mighty oath, that on
the morrow, before he broke his fast, he would wring the neck of the
wretched bird, which seemed to have bewitched his daughter.
Now just above his head, in the gallery, hung Coo-me-doo's cage with the
golden bars, and he happened to be sitting in it, and when he heard this
threat he flew away in haste to his wife's room and told her.
"I must fly home and crave help of my mother," he said; "mayhap she may
be able to aid us, for I shall certainly be no help to thee here, if my
neck be wrung to-morrow. Do thou fall in with thy father's wishes, and
promise to marry this nobleman; only see to it that the wedding doth not
take place until three clear days be past."
Then Lady Grizel opened the window, and he flew away, leaving her to act
her part as best she might.
Now it chanced that next evening, in the far distant land over the sea,
the Queen was walking up and down in front of her palace, watching her
grandsons playing at tennis, and thinking sadly of her only son and his
beautiful wife whom she had never seen. She was so deep in thought, that
she never noticed that a gray dove had come sailing over the trees, and
perched itself on a turret of the palace, until it fluttered down, and
her son, Prince Florentine, stood beside her.
She threw herself into his arms joyfully, and kissed him again and
again; then she would have called for a feast to be set, and for her
minstrels to play, as she always did on the rare occasions when he came
home, but he held up his hand to stop her.
"I need neither feasting nor music, Mother," he said, "but I need thy
help sorely. If thy magic cannot help me, then my wife and I are undone,
and in two days she will be forced to marry a man whom she hates," and
he told the whole story.
"And what wouldst thou that I should do?" asked the Queen in great
distress.
"Give me a score of men-at-arms to fly over the sea with me," answered
the Prince, "and my sons to help me in the fray."
But the Queen shook her head sadly.
"'Tis beyond my power," she said; "but mayhap Astora, the old dame who
lives by the sea-shore, might help me, for in good sooth thy need is
great. She hath more skill in magic than I have."
So she hurried away to a little hut near the sea-shore where the wise
old woman lived, while her son waited anxiously for her return.
At last she appeared again, and her face was radiant.
"Dame Astora hath given me a charm," she said, "which will turn
four-and-twenty of my stout men-at-arms into storks, and thy seven sons
into white swans, and thou thyself into a gay gos-hawk, the proudest of
all birds."
Now the Earl of Mar, full of joy at the disappearance of the gray dove,
which seemed to have bewitched his daughter, had bade all the nobles
throughout the length and breadth of fair Scotland to come and witness
her wedding with the lover whom he had chosen for her, and there was
feasting, and dancing, and great revelry at the castle. There had not
been such doings since the marriage of the Earl's great-grandfather a
hundred years before. There were huge tables, covered with rich food,
standing constantly in the hall, and even the common people went in and
out as they pleased, while outside on the green there was music, and
dancing, and games.
Suddenly, when the revelry was at its height, a flock of strange birds
appeared on the horizon, and everyone stopped to look at them. On they
came, flying all together in regular order, first a gay gos-hawk, then
behind him seven snow-white swans, and behind the swans four-and-twenty
large gray storks. When they drew near, they settled down among the
trees which surrounded the castle green, and sat there, each on his own
branch, like sentinels, watching the sport.
At first some of the people were frightened, and wondered what this
strange sight might mean, but the Earl of Mar only laughed.
"They come to do honour to my daughter," he said; "'tis well that there
is not a gray dove among them, else had he found an arrow in his heart,
and that right speedily," and he ordered the musicians to strike up a
measure.
The Lady Grizel was amongst the throng, dressed in her bridal gown, but
no one noticed how anxiously she glanced at the great birds which sat so
still on the branches.
Then a strange thing happened. No sooner had the musicians begun to
play, and the dancers begun to dance, than the twenty-four gray storks
flew down, and each of them seized a nobleman, and tore him from his
partner, and whirled him round and round as fast as he could, holding
him so tightly with his great gray wings that he could neither draw his
sword nor struggle. Then the seven white swans flew down and seized the
bridegroom, and tied him fast to a great oak tree. Then they flew to
where the gay gos-hawk was hovering over Lady Grizel, and they pressed
their bodies so closely to his that they formed a soft feathery couch,
on which the lady sat down, and in a moment the birds soared into the
air, bearing their precious burden on their backs, while the storks,
letting the nobles go, circled round them to form an escort; and so the
strange army of birds flew slowly out of sight, leaving the wedding
guests staring at one another in astonishment, while the Earl of Mar
swore so terribly that no one dare go near him.
* * * * *
And although the story of this strange wedding is told in Scotland to
this day, no one has ever been able to guess where the birds came from,
or to what land they carried the beautiful Lady Grizel.