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The Hollow Land by William Morris

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The Hollow Land

William Morris

"We find in ancient story wonders many told,
Of heroes in great glory, with spirit free and bold;
Of joyances and high-tides, of weeping and of woe,
Of noble reckon striving, mote ye now wonders know."
- Niebelungen Lied (see Carlylefs Miscellanies)


STRUGGLING IN THE WORLD.

Do you know where it is -- the Hollow Land?

I have been looking for it now so long, trying to find it again the
Hollow Land for there I saw my love first.

I wish to tell you how I found it first of all; but I am old, my
memory fails me: you must wait and let me think if I perchance can
tell you how it happened. Yea, in my ears is a confused noise of
trumpet-blasts singing over desolate moors, in my ears and eyes a
clashing and clanging of horse-hoofs, a ringing and glittering of
steel; drawn-back lips, set teeth, shouts, shrieks, and curses.

How was it that no one of us ever found it till that day? for it is
near our country: but what time have we to look for it, or any good
thing; with such biting carking cares hemming us in on every
side-cares about great things-mighty things: mighty things, 0 my
brothers! or rather little things enough, if we only knew it. Lives
passed in turmoil, in making one another unhappy; in bitterest
misunderstanding of our brothers' hearts, making those sad whom God
has not made sad, alas, alas! What chance for any of us to find the
Hollow Land? What time even to look for it?

Yet who has not dreamed of it? Who, half miserable yet the while, for
that he knows it is but a dream, has not felt the cool waves round his
feet, the roses crowning him, and through the leaves of beech and lime
the many whispering winds of the Hollow Land?

Now, my name was Florian, and my house was the house of the Lilies;
and of that house was my father lord, and after him my eldest brother
Amald; and me they called Florian de Liliis.

Moreover, when my father was dead, there arose a feud between the
Lilies' house and Red Harald; and this that follows is the history of
it.

Lady Swanhilda, Red Harald's mother, was a widow, with one son. Red
Harald; and when she had been in widowhood two years, being of
princely blood, and besides comely and fierce. King Urrayne sent to
demand her in marriage. And I remember seeing the procession leaving
the town, when I was quite a child; and many young knights and squires
attended the Lady Swanhilda as pages, and amongst them, Amald, my
eldest brother.

And as I gazed out of the window, I saw him walking by the side of her
horse, dressed in white and gold very delicately; but as he went it
chanced that he stumbled. Now he was one of those that held a golden
canopy over the lady's head, so that it now sunk into wrinkles, and
the lady had to bow her head full low, and even then the gold brocade
caught in one of the long slim gold flowers that were wrought round
about the crown she wore. She flushed up in her rage, and her smooth
face went suddenly into the carven wrinkles of a wooden water-spout,
and she caught at the brocade with her left hand, and pulled it away
furiously, so that the warp and woof were twisted out of their place,
and many gold threads were left dangling about the crown; but
Swanhilda stared about when she rose, then smote my brother across the
mouth with her gilded sceptre, and the red blood flowed all about his
garments; yet he only turned exceeding pale, and dared say no word,
though he was heir to the house of the Lilies: but my small heart
swelled with rage, and I vowed revenge, and, as it seems, he did too.

So when Swanhilda had been queen three years, she suborned many of
King Urrayne's knights and lords, and slew her husband as he slept,
and reigned in his stead. And her son, Harald, grew up to manhood, and
was counted a strong knight, and well spoken of, by then I first put
on my armour.

Then, one night, as I lay dreaming, I felt a hand laid on my face, and
starting up saw Arnald before me fully armed. He said, "Florian, rise
and arm."

I did so, all but my helm, as he was.

He kissed me on the forehead; his lips felt hot and dry; and when they
bought torches, and I could see his face plainly, I saw he was very
pale. He said: "Do you remember, Florian, this day sixteen years ago?
It is a long time, but I shall never forget it unless this night blots
out its memory."

I knew what he meant, and because my heart was wicked, I rejoiced
exceedingly at the thought of vengeance, so that I could not speak,
but only laid my palm across his lips.

"Good; you have a good memory, Florian. See now, I waited long and
long: I said at first, I forgive her; but when the news came
concerning the death of the king, and how that she was shameless, I
said I will take it as a sign, if God does not punish her within
certain years, that he means me to do so; and I have been watching and
watching now these two years for an opportunity, and behold it is come
at last; and I think God has certainly given her into OUR hands, for
she rests this night, this very Christmas eve, at a small walled town
on the frontier, not two hours' gallop from this; they keep little
ward there, and the night is wild: moreover, the prior of a certain
house of monks, just without the walls, is my fast friend in this
matter, for she has done him some great injury. In the courtyard below
a hundred and fifty knights and squires, all faithful and true, are
waiting for us: one moment and we shall be gone."

Then we both knelt down, and prayed God to give her into our hands: we
put on our helms, and went down into the courtyard.

It was the first time I expected to use a sharp sword in anger, and I
was full of joy as the muffled thunder of our horse-hoofs rolled
through the bitter winter night.

In about an hour and a half we had crossed the frontier, and in half
an hour more the greater part bad halted in a wood near the Abbey,
while I and a few others went up to the Abbey gates, and knocked
loudly four times with my sword-hilt, stamping on the ground meantime.
A long, low whistle answered me from within, which I in my turn
answered: then the wicket opened, and a monk came out, holding a
lantern. He seemed yet in the prime of life, and was a tall, powerful
man. He held the lantern to my face, then smiled, and said, "The
banners hang low." I gave the countersign, "The crest is lopped off."
"Good my son," said he; "the ladders are within here. I dare not trust
any of the brethren to carry them for you, though they love not the
witch either, but are timorsome."

"No matter," I said, "I have men here." So they entered and began to
shoulder the tall ladders: the prior was very busy. "You will find
them just the right length, my son, trust me for that." He seemed
quite a jolly, pleasant man, I could not understand his nursing
furious revenge; but his face darkened strangely whenever he happened
to mention her name.

As we were starting he came and stood outside the gate, and putting
his lantern down that the light of it might not confuse his sight,
looked earnestly into the night, then said: "The wind has fallen, the
snow flakes get thinner and smaller every moment, in an hour it will
be freezing hard, and will be quite clear; everything depends'upon the
surprise being complete; stop a few minutes yet, my son." He went away
chuckling, and returned presently with two more sturdy monks carrying
something: they threw their burdens down before my feet, they
consisted of all the white albs in the abbey: "There, trust an old
man, who has seen more than one stricken fight in his carnal days; let
the men who scale the walls put these over their arms, and they will
not be seen in the least. God make your sword sharp, my son."

So we departed, and when I met Amald again, he said that what the
prior had done was well thought of; so we agreed that I should take
thirty men, an old squire of our house, well skilled in war, along
with them, scale the walls as quietly as possible, and open the gates
to the rest.

I set off accordingly, after that with low laughing we had put the
albs all over us, wrapping the ladders also in white. Then we crept
very warily and slowly up to the wall; the moat was frozen over, and
on the ice the snow lay quite thick; we all thought that the guards
must be careless enough, when they did not even take the trouble to
break the ice in the moat So we listened- there was no sound at all,
the Christmas midnight mass had long ago been over, it was nearly
three o'clock, and the moon began to clear, there was scarce any snow
falling now, only a flake or two from some low hurrying cloud or
other: the wind sighed gently about the round towers there, but it was
bitter cold, for it had begun to freeze again; we listened for some
minutes, about a quarter of an hour I think, then at a sign from me,
they raised the ladders carefully, muffled as they were at the top
with swathings of wool. I mounted first, old Squire Hugh followed
last; noiselessly we ascended, and soon stood altogether on the walls;
then we carefully lowered the ladders again with long ropes; we got
our swords and axes from out of the folds of our priests' raiments,
and set forward, till we reached the first tower along the wall; the
door was open, in the chamber at the top there was a fire slowly
smouldering, nothing else; we passed through it, and began to go down
the spiral staircase, I first, with my axe shortened in my hand.-"What
if we were surprised there," I thought, and I longed to be out in the
air again;-"What if the door were fast at the bottom."

As we passed the second chamber, we heard some one within snoring
loudly: I looked in quietly, and saw a big man with long black hair,
that fell off his pillow and swept the ground, lying snoring, with his
nose turned up and his mouth open, but he seemed so sound asleep that
we did not stop to slay him. Praise be! The door was open, without even
a whispered word, without a pause, we went on along the streets, on
the side that the drift had been on, because our garments were white,
for the wind being very strong all that day, the houses on that side
had caught in their cornices and carvings, and on the rough stone and
wood of them, so much snow, that except here and there where the black
walls grinned out, they were quite white; no man saw us as we stole
along, noiselessly because of the snow, till we stood within 100 yards
of the gates and their house of guard. And we stood because we heard
the voice of some one singing:

"Queen Mary's crown was gold,
King Joseph's crown was red,
But Jesus' crown was diamond
That lit up all the bed
Mariae Virginis"

So they had some guards after all; this was clearly the sentinel that
sang to keep the ghosts off;-Now for a fight.-We drew nearer, a few
yards nearer, then stopped to free ourselves from our monks' clothes.

"Ships sail through the Heaven
With red banners dress'd,
Carrying the planets seven
To see the white breast
Mariae Virginis"

Thereat he must have seen the waving of some alb or other as it
shivered down to the ground, for his spear fell with a thud, and he
seemed to be standing open-mouthed, thinking something about ghosts;
then, plucking up heart of grace, he roared out like ten bull-calves,
and dashed into the guard-house.

We followed smartly, but without hurry, and came up to the door of it
just as some dozen half-armed men came tumbling out under our axes:
thereupon, while our men slew them, I blew a great blast upon my horn,
and Hugh with some others drew bolt and bar and swung the gates wide
open.

Then the men in the guard-house understood they were taken in a trap,
and began to stir with great confusion; so lest they should get quite
waked and armed, I left Hugh at the gates with ten men, and myself led
the rest into that house. There while we slew all those that yielded
not, came Arnald with the others, bringing our horses with them; then
all the enemy threw their arms down. And we counted our prisoners and
found them over fourscore; therefore, not knowing what to do with them
(for they were too many to guard, and it seemed unknightly to slay
them all), we sent up some bowmen to the walls, and turning our
prisoners out of gates, bid them run for their lives, which they did
fast enough, not knowing our numbers, and our men sent a few flights
of arrows among them that they might not be undeceived.

Then the one or two prisoners that we had left, told us, when we had
crossed our axes over their heads, that the people of the good town
would not willingly fight us, in that they hated the queen; that she
was guarded at the palace by some fifty knights, and that beside,
there were no others to oppose us in the town; so we set out for the
palace, spear in hand.

We had not gone far, before we heard some knights coming, and soon, in
a turn of the long street, we saw them riding towards us; when they
caught sight of us they seemed astonished, drew rein, and stood in
some confusion.

We did not slacken our pace for an instant, but rode right at them
with a yell, to which I lent myself with all my heart.

After all they did not run away, but waited for us with their spears
held out; I missed the man I had marked, or hit him rather just on the
top of the helm; he bent back, and the spear slipped over his head,
but my horse still kept on, and I felt presently such a crash that I
reeled in my saddle, and felt mad. He had lashed out at me with his
sword as I came on, hitting me in the ribs (for my arm was raised),
but only flatlings.

I was quite wild with rage, I turned, almost fell upon him, caught him
by the neck with both hands, and threw him under the horse-hoofs,
sighing with fury: I heard Arnald's voice close to me, "Well fought,
Florian": and I saw his great stern face bare among the iron, for he
had made a vow in remembrance of that blow always to fight unhelmed; I
saw his great sword swinging, in wide gyres, and hissing as it started
up, just as if it were alive and liked it.

So joy filled all my soul, and I fought with my heart, till the big
axe I swung felt like nothing but a little hammer in my hand, except
for its bitterness: and as for the enemy, they went down like grass,
so that we destroyed them utterly, for those knights would neither
yield nor fly, but died as they stood, so that some fifteen of our men
also died there.

Then at last we came to the palace, where some grooms and such like
kept the gates armed, but some ran, and some we took prisoners, one of
whom died for sheer terror in our hands, being stricken by no wound;
for he thought we would eat him.

These prisoners we questioned concerning the queen, and so entered the
great hall. There Arnald sat down in the throne on the dais, and laid
his naked sword before him on the table: and on each side of him sat
such knights as there was room for, and the others stood round about,
while I took ten men, and went to look for Swanhilda.

I found her soon, sitting by herself in a gorgeous chamber. I almost
pitied her when I saw her looking so utterly desolate and despairing;
her beauty too had faded, deep lines cut through her face. But when I
entered she knew who I was, and her look of intense hatred was so
fiend-like, that it changed my pity into horror of her.

"Knight", she said "who are you, and what do you want, thus
discourteously entering my chamber?"

"I am Florian de Liliis, and I am to conduct you to judgment."

She sprang up, "Curse you and your whole house, you I hate worse than
any -- girl's face -- guards! guards!" and she stamped on the ground,
her veins on the forehead swelled, her eyes grew round and flamed out,
as she kept crying for her guards, stamping the while, for she seemed
quite mad.

Then at last she remembered that she was in the power of her enemies,
she sat down, and lay with her face between her hands, and wept
passionately.

"Witch," I said between my closed teeth, "will you come, or must we
carry you down to the great hall?"

Neither would she come, but sat there, clutching at her dress and
tearing her hair.

Then I said, "Bind her, and carry her down." And they did so.

I watched Arnald as we came in, there was no triumph on his stern
white face, but resolution enough, he had made up his mind.

They placed her on a seat in the midst of the hall over against the
dais. He said, "Unbind her, Florian." They did so, she raised her
face, and glared defiance at us all, as though she would die queenly
after all.

Then rose up Arnald and said, "Queen Swanhilda, we judge you guilty of
death, and because you are a queen and of a noble house, you shall be
slain by my knightly sword, and I will even take the reproach of
slaying a woman, for no other hand than mine shall deal the blow."

Then she said, "0 false knight, show your warrant from God, man, or
devil."

"This warrant from God, Swanhilda," he said, holding up his sword,
"listen! Fifteen years ago, when I was just winning my spurs, you
struck me, disgracing me before all the people; you cursed me, and
mean that curse well enough. Men of the house of the Lilies, what
sentence for that?"

"Death!" they said.

"Listen! Afterwards you slew my cousin, your husband, treacherously, in
the most cursed way, stabbing him in the throat, as the stars in the
canopy above him looked down on the shut eyes of him. Men of the house
of Lily, what sentence for that?"

"Death!" they said.

"Do you hear them. Queen? There is warrant from man; for the devil, I
do not reverence him enough to take warrant from him, but, as I look
at that face of yours, I think that even he has left you."

And indeed just then all her pride seemed to leave her, she fell from
the chair, and wallowed on the ground moaning, she wept like a child,
so that the tears lay on the oak floor; she prayed for another month
of life; she came to me and kneeled, and kissed my feet, and prayed
piteously, so that water ran out of her mouth.

But I shuddered, and drew away; it was like hav ing an adder about
one; I cou'd have pitied her had she died bravely, but for one like
her to whine and whine! Pah!

Then from the dais rang Amald's voice terrible, much changed. "Let
there be an end of all this." And he took his sword and strode through
the hall towards her; she rose from the ground and stood up, stooping
a little, her head sunk between her shoulders, her black eyes turned
up and gloaming, like a tigress about to spring. When he came within
some six paces of her something in his eye daunted her, or perhaps the
flashing of his terrible sword in the torch-light; she threw her arms
up with a great shriek, and dashed screaming about the hall. Amald's
lip never once curled with any scorn, no line in his face changed: he
said, "Bring her here and bind her."

But when one came up to her to lay hold on her she first of all ran at
him, hitting with her head in the belly. Then while he stood doubled
up for want of breath, and staring with his head up, she caught his
sword from the girdle, and cut him across the shoulders, and many
others she wounded sorely before they took her. Then Arnald stood by
the chair to which she was bound, and poised his sword, and there was
a great silence.

Then he said, "Men of the House of the Lilies, do you justify me in
this, shall she die?" Straightway rang a great shout through the hall,
but before it died away the sword had swept round, and therewithal was
there no such thing as Swanhilda left upon the earth, for in no
battle-field had Arnald struck truer blow.

Then he turned to the few servants of the palace and said, "Go now,
bury this accursed woman, for she is a king's daughter." Then to us
all, "Now knights, to horse and away, that we may reach the good town
by about dawn." So we mounted and rode off.

What a strange Christmas-day that was, for there, about nine o'clock
in the morning, rode Red Harald into the good town to demand
vengeance; he went at once to the king, and the king promised that
before nightfall that very day the matter should be judged; albeit the
king feared somewhat, because every third man you met in the streets
had a blue cross on his shoulder, and some likeness of a lily, cut out
or painted, stuck in his hat; and this blue cross and lily were the
bearings of our house, called "De Liliis." Now we had seen Red Harald
pass through the streets, with a white banner borne before him, to
show that he came peaceably as for this time; but I know he was
thinking of other things than peace.

And he was called Red Harald first at this time, because over all his
arms he wore a great scarlet cloth, that fell in heavy folds about his
horse and all about him. Then, as he passed our house, some one
pointed it out to him, rising there with its carving and its barred
marble, but stronger than many a castle on the hill-tops, and its
great overhanging battlement cast a mighty shadow down the wall and
across the street; and above all rose the great tower, or banner
floating proudly from the top, whereon was emblazoned on a white
ground a blue cross, and on a blue ground four white lilies. And now
faces were gazing from all the windows, and all the battlements were
thronged; so Harald turned, and rising in his stirrups, shook his
clenched fist at our house; natheless, as he did so, the east wind,
coming down the street, caught up the corner of that scarlet cloth and
drove it over his face, and therewithal disordering his long black
hair, well nigh choked him, so that he bit both his hair and that
cloth.

So from base to cope rose a mighty shout of triumph and defiance, and
he passed on.

Then Arnald caused it to be cried, that all those who loved the good
House of the Lilies should go to mass that morning in Saint Mary's
Church, hard by our house. Now this church belonged to us, and the
abbey that served it, and always we appointed the abbot of it on
condition that our trumpets should sound all together when on high
masses they sing the "Gloria in Excelsis." It was the largest and most
beautiful of all the churches in the town, and had two exceeding high
towers, which you could see from far off, even when you saw not the
town or any of its other towers: and in one of these towers were
twelve great bells, named after the twelve Apostles, one name being
written on each one of them; as Peter, Matthew, and so on; and in the
other tower was one great bell only, much larger than any of the
others, and which was called Mary. Now this bell was never rung but
when our house was in great danger, and it had this legend on it,
"When Mary rings the earth shakes;" and indeed from this we took our
war cry, which was, "Mary rings;" somewhat justifiable indeed, for the
last time that Mary rang, on that day before nightfall there were four
thousand bodies to be buried, which bodies wore neither cross nor
lily.

So Arnald gave me in charge to tell the abbot to cause Mary to be
tolled for an hour before mass that day.

The abbot leaned on my shoulder as I stood within the tower and looked
at the twelve monks laying their hands to the ropes. Far up in the
dimness I saw the wheel before it began to swing round about; then it
moved a little; the twelve men bent down to the earth and a roar rose
that shook the tower from base to spirevane: backwards and forwards
swept the wheel, as Mary now looked downwards towards earth, now
looked up at the shadowy cone of the spire, shot across by bars of
light from the dormers.

And the thunder of Mary was caught up by the wind and carried through
all the country; and when the good man heard it, he said goodbye to
wife and child, slung his shield behind his back, and set forward with
his spear sloped over his shoulder, and many a time, as he walked
toward the good town, he tightened the belt that went about his waist,
that he might stride the faster, so long and furiously did Mary toll.

And before the great bell, Mary, had ceased ringing, all the ways were
full of armed men.

But at each door of the church of Saint Mary stood a row of men armed
with axes, and when any came, meaning to go into the church, the two
first of these would hold their axes (whose helves were about four
feet long) over his head, and would ask him, "Who went over the moon
last night?" then if he answered nothing or at random they would bid
him turn back, which he for the more part would be ready enough to do;
but some, striving to get through that row of men, were slain
outright; but if he were one of those that were friends to the House
of the Lilies he would answer to that question, "Mary and John."

By the time the mass began the whole church was full, and in the nave
and transept thereof were three thousand men, all of our house and all
armed. But Arnald and myself, and Squire Hugh, and some others sat
under a gold-fringed canopy near the choir; and the abbot said mass,
having his mitre on his head. Yet, as I watched him, it seemed to me
that he must have something on beneath his priest's vestments, for he
looked much fatter than usual, being really a tall lithe man.

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When the clock chimed midnight last night bookshops began to sell the Harry Potter phenomenon's latest instalment, a modest collection of fairy stories that is expected to put JK Rowling at the top of the bestsellers list once again this Christmas.

Booksellers sought to mark the publication of The Tales of Beedle the Bard - a set of short stories that featured in the final Harry Potter novel - by arranging events such as children's tea parties and breakfast readings. There was an exclusive party last night in London for 500 hardcore Harry fans. JK Rowling herself will host a tea party for 220 primary school children in Edinburgh this afternoon.

The collection is a reprinting of five fairy stories that Rowling originally hand-wrote and illustrated on vellum as a gift for six close friends associated with the Potter oeuvre. All six versions were hand-bound, their covers inlaid with semi-precious stones. The stories are derived from a magical book used by Harry to finally defeat his adversary Lord Voldemort in the seventh and final book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which was the fastest-selling book ever.

Unlike the profits from the novels in the core Harry Potter series, the proceeds from Beedle the Bard are going to an east European children's charity chaired by Rowling, called the Children's High Level Group. Based on a European commission-backed organisation of the same name run by MEP Emma Nicholson to coordinate efforts to rehome 100,000 Romanian children kept in appalling conditions in state institutions, the charity focuses on rebuilding children's services in five east European countries.

The seven Harry Potter novels have sold 400m copies worldwide and spawned five movies along with associated merchandise, helping to build their small publishers, Bloomsbury, into a major force in the book industry. The Deathly Hallows helped Bloomsbury's children's division earn £40m profits last year. Bloomsbury hopes to sell between 7.5m and 8m copies worldwide from the first print run of Beedle the Bard, which is already translated into 27 languages, raising at least £12m for the children's charity.

About 80,000 children, many disabled or from oppressed ethnic minorities such as the Roma, live in state institutions in Romania, Moldova, Georgia, the Czech republic and Armenia, the charity's director, Georgette Mulheir, said yesterday.

Rowling said she hoped the new book would "not only be a welcome present to Harry Potter fans, but an opportunity to give these abandoned children a voice. It will encourage young people across the world to think about those who are less fortunate, and help change many young lives for the better."

The Tales of Beedle the Bard has already raised at least £1.9m for the charity after Amazon won the bidding at a Sotheby's auction for the seventh and last handwritten version of the book last year, donated by Rowling. The major booksellers are now selling the stories for £3.95, after Amazon provoked a discounting war by offering the book as a recession-busting loss leader at half the publisher's recommended price of £6.95.

The official price includes a £1.61 donation from each copy to the Rowling-backed charity, leaving booksellers in the UK effectively using their own profits to contribute a large part of the £12m expected to go to the Children's High Level Group.

Last year's Sotheby's auction has meant Rowling's handwritten versions are valued at £2m.

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