A terrible brood of giants once lived on the Isle of Man—as anyone in western England could have told you a hundred years ago, or five hundred for that matter. To-day this island of Mona in the Irish Sea produces nothing stranger than Manx tail-less cats and a hard-headed race of people who cling most obstinately to their old Norse and Celtic customs, with “deemsters” to judge them and a Legislature and Lieutenant-governor of their own for their 20,000 inhabitants.
But away back in the days of great King Arthur it was common knowledge that a horde of giants had driven out the first fairy population of the island, and, after ruling many generations in the usual discourteous fashion of giants, had been themselves overpowered by the mighty enchanter Merlin, and lay spell-bound forever in vast subterranean chambers beneath their ancient palace.
And if you have any doubts about this, and find it difficult to verify the tale by consulting a Manxman (or better still an aged Manxwoman)—why you need only turn to “The History and Description of the Isle of Man,” wherein Mr. Waldron only seventy years ago related all the facts as to “Curious and Authentick Relations of Apparitions of Giants that have lived under the castle from time immemorial. Likewise many comical and entertaining stories of the pranks played by fairies, &c.”
He himself saw beneath Douglas Fort the “very strong and secret apartment underground, having no passage to it but a hole, which is covered with a large stone, and is called to this day ‘The great man’s chamber.'” Also many wise ones told him how several venturesome spirits who ventured down to the subterranean chambers at Castleton, and not one of them ever returned to give an account of what he had undoubtedly seen—except one foolhardy individual, full of “Dutch courage,” who risked the attempt in spite of the grisly fate of his predecessors. This lucky person related upon his return that, after traversing interminable black passages, he at last reached a light and a magnificent dwelling, in which lay a monster fourteen feet long and ten or eleven feet around—whereat, like a wise and prudent man, he retraced his steps without further investigation.
And there is more vivid testimony than this. Probably five or six centuries back an unknown minstrel made a ballad telling all about this giant brood and what befell the valiant Sir Gawain upon his adventure into that dread island.
A few portions of this ballad are lost (they were used to light the fires by the maids in Humphrey Pitt’s house in Shropshire, where Bishop Percy, about 1760, found the old 17th century manuscript book containing it!) But the course of the tale is plain, and the romance stands here essentially as it was written down about 1650, having been passed on orally for hundreds of years before that.
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Listen, lords great and small, what adventures did befall in England, where hath been the knights that held the Round Table, doughty warriors and keen.
All England both east and west, lords and ladies of the best, they busked them and made them bowne, and as King Arthur sate in his seat,—lords served him at his meat,—there came a man into the hall. He was not tall, but he was broad, made like a turke (a dwarf) in his legs and thighs. Said he:
“Is there any will, as a brother, give me a buffet and take another—if any be so hardy?”
Then spoke that crabbed knight, Sir Kay:
“Man, thou seemest not so strong in wit if thou be not adread, for there are knights within this hall will fell thee to the ground with one buffet. Be thou never so stalwart of hand, I dare safely sweare I shall bring thee to the ground.”
Then spake that worthy knight Sir Gawain:
“Cousin Kay, thou speakest unworthily, and rude is thy answer. If this man wants wit, small honor to thee if thou shouldst kill him.”
The dwarf answered threateningly: “Come on, the better of you two, though ye be fierce as any wild boar.”
With that Gawain rose and smote him, but not with his full strength, lest he slay him outright. But to his surprise the dwarf did not go down before his blow but withstood it. Then the dwarf looked upon him menacingly and said:
“Be sure that when the time comes this buffet thou hast given me shall be well quitted. But before that thou must go with me on an adventure—and I shall make thee thrice as afraid as ever man was on this middle earth ere thou see this court again.”
“I plight my troth,” said Gawain. “I dare go with thee and never fly. Never will I flee from an adventure, be it jousting or any other tournament.”
The dwarf took leave of the crowned King, and Sir Gawain made ready his armor and steed. They rode northwards two days and more. By then Sir Gawain was sore hungered and had great need of meat and drink. The dwarf knew he needed food and spoke rough words to him, holding his head high:
“Gawain, where is all thy plenty? The other day thou wast served with dainties and gave no part to me, but bruised me with a buffet: therefore thou shalt have mickle care and shalt see adventures. I only would I had here King Arthur and many of thy fellows in brotherhood that are wont to strive for mastery.”
He led Sir Gawain to a high hill. Suddenly the earth opened and closed again, and Gawain began to dread; the murk came down and the light disappeared; and a storm of snow and rain, with thunder and lightning, broke upon them.
Sir Gawain sighed heavily. “Such weather,” said he, “saw I never before, in no place that I have ever been.”
The dwarf paid no attention and led him on for a long journey, till at last they came in sight of a noble castle standing close beside the sea. “We shall go in,” said the guide, “but take heed that if thou seest anyone within, thou speak not to man nor woman. Yea, even if they address thee, on thy peril see thou makest them no answer but only unto me.”
So they rode up to the castle and Sir Gawain lighted off his horse. The dwarf, being on foot already, led him through the gates. Here they found chamber, bower and hall, with rich railings and most seemly to look upon. In the hall a board was spread with all manner of meat and drink for any grooms that might win thither. Sir Gawain would have fallen to that fare, but the dwarf bade him leave it alone on his peril so that he waxed anxious.
Said Gawain: “Man, I marvel that thou mayst spare none of these victuals when there is such great plenty here. Yet do I marvel more, by my fay, that I see neither man nor man, woman nor child. I had liever now be free to eat my fill of this fair meat than to have all the gold in Christendom.”
At that the dwarf went forth and immediately returned, bringing meat and drink of the finest.
“Eat, Gawain,” said he, “and refresh thy spirit. In faith thou shalt labor and sweat ere thou get more food.”
When the knight had drunk ale and wine, he said: “I will, without boast or threat, be ready at thy bidding. Yet I would pray thee rather to give me my buffet and let me go my way for I would not longer be in this place.”
The dwarf reminded him of his plighted word, presently, and led him without again. There lay a boat by the shore; and, obeying his guide, Sir Gawain turned loose his charger. Indeed there was naught else he could do.
“I plight my troth to thee,” said the dwarf, “he shall be here when thou comest again.”
They sailed across the water for the space of an hour, when there appeared before them an island whereon stood a fair castle whose like the knight had ne’er beheld.
Said the dwarf: “Gawain, we have come thus far without scathe; but now cometh the performance of thine oath. In yonder castle dwells the King of Man. He is a soldan of heathenesse, and he hath with him such a hideous rout of giants as one might not match did he seek far and near as wide as the world. Many adventures are before you; and doubt not that we shall be assailed before we win hence again. But an ye take good heed to me I shall help ye in need; and I trow there is none so strong in stoure that he shall gainsay us.”
They landed and came into the great hall, where sat the King of Man, grim and terrible.
“Ah, Sir Gawain, stiff and stoure,” said he, “how fareth thine uncle King Arthur? And that bishop, Sir Bodwine, that will not let my goods alone but spiteth them every day? He preaches much of a crown of thorns; but an ever I catch him he shall think such a crown but play. Sit down at my board, sir knight.”
“Nay, that may not be,” said Sir Gawain. “I trow a venturous knight shall sit down in no king’s hall ere he have assayed adventures.”
“Fair may it fall ye then, Gawain,” said the King. “Go, fetch me forth my tennis ball,” quoth he to those who stood near, “for I will see this knight play.”
So they brought in a huge ball, all of brass; and behind it came a hideous company of giants. They were seventeen in number, and the least of them was half as tall again as the knight.
Gawain looked on these monstrous creatures who laughed and showed their foul teeth in pleasure at the prospect of dashing out his brains in the course of this strange game. Then he looked at the ball of brass, and knew there was no man in all England able to so much as carry it, much less play at hand-ball with it as was proposed. And in his heart he began to feel great fear that he was here presently to be shamed and slain. Just then the dwarf spoke privily in his ear.
To the grim King the knight said: “This is too easy a play for a proven knight. This boy of mine will play for you.”
Then one of the giants struck the great heavy ball; and the dwarf struck it back so mightily that it flew clean out of the hall door and out of sight.
“Of a truth, that is a strong boy you have,” said the King. “Now let us try at casting the axletree.”
So they brought forth a monstrous axletree such as only one of the giants could so much as lift. The tallest of the giants made a cast from the other end of the hall, so that the tremendous mass crashed down before the feet of the knight and his companion. Gawain made a sign; whereat the dwarf picked up the huge axletree and hurled it so shrewdly that it thrust through one of the giants, and he fell down with grisly groaning.
“Take away the axletree,” said the King. “Such a boy saw I never before; yet, as I may thrive, he shall be better assayed ere he go. This third adventure is the last before me at this time.”
All turned toward a monstrous brazier which stood in the hall, within whose great iron bars there blazed coals and wood.
“Gawain,” said a giant, “do you begin the play. A great giant lifted up this brazier and set it down fairly with one hand. When you have essayed it, one of us shall answer you.”
Sir Gawain was never so disturbed since he was a man on middle earth. Then he bethought him and turned to the dwarf.
“Lift this brazier, boy,” said he, “that is so worthily wrought.”
At that the dwarf sprang forward, and seized the huge knobs of the iron brazier which rose far above his head. Then he lifted it clear and swung it thrice about his head, that the coals and red brands flew out over the hall floor, and they had much ado to put out the fire.
The King waxed wroth and he bade them lay hands on the knight; and before he could draw his sword they had disarmed him and bound him fast. The King had him taken aside and spoke to him privily.
“Ah, Gawain,” said the King, “evil was the day for thee that thou camest hither. Full many a knight, mickle of might and strong in battle, hath come before thee, and all of them I have slain through my mastery. Never went there away one to tell the tale. Nor shalt thou go, fell though thou beest, nor none that belongeth to King Arthur.”
The dwarf had drawn on a cloak of invisible gray and followed them, himself unseen in this weed. He heard all this, and followed still when the King led Gawain into a fast dungeon where stood a great caldron of boiling lead. The molten lead bubbled and spattered; and before it stood a loathly giant with an iron pronged fork in his hand. The giant looked eagerly upon the captive knight.
The King said to his monster: “Here are none but we two: do what is best.”
But at that instant the dwarf discovered himself in his weed of invisible gray; and at the sight the giant cried out in fear.
The dwarf leaped upon him, gripped him mightily about the waist, and cast him all as he was into the caldron of molten lead, holding him down with the prings till he was scalded to death.
Sir Gawain turned to the King: “But thou agreest to be baptized, thine hour is come.”
The King in anger spat upon him; and the dwarf seized him and hurled him into the fire to perish. Then he said to Sir Gawain:
“Master, the peril is past. Yet let us not tarry to complete this adventure.”
So they went through the castle and slew all that foul company except such as were willing to become Christian men. And they found there vast treasure of gold and silver. Then the dwarf brought a golden basin, fit for an emperor, and a well-tempered sword, and fell on his knees before Gawain, and said:
“If ever I did aught for thee, take this keen sword and strike off my head.”
“Now God forfend!” exclaimed Gawain. “Not for all the red gold would I have thee slain.”
“Have done, my master. I have no dread. In this basin let me bleed and thou shalt see a new play.”
Sorrowfully, Gawain took the brand, and with one blow he smote off his head. And when the blood fell into the golden basin, the dwarf stood up in his own guise of a stalwart knight. Sir Gromer he was hight.
“Blessed be thou, Sir Gawain. Well hast thou quitted me for my aid.”
Then they went throughout the castle and released many a captive knight and lady who had been held there in dolour. And after they had feasted they crossed the ocean water and returned to King Arthur’s court, where there was great joy of the seventeen bright ladies thus restored.
Sir Gromer, the former dwarf, went down upon his knee before Arthur:
“Sir King, an it please you, crown Gawain King of Man.”
But Gawain kneeled beside him and said: “Nay, lord, not I; give it to him, for he won it.”
Then said Arthur: “Take thou the kingdom, Sir Gromer; for I see that Gawain will never consent.”
And it was so.