There is still extant a Gallic poem, composed in the beginning of the twelfth century, of which the whole burden is this quest. The hero, named Perédur, goes to war with giants, lions, serpents, sea-monsters, sorcerers, and finally becomes conqueror of the basin and the lance, which is here added to the primitive tradition.
Now there can be no doubt that this Gallic legend, which found its way throughout Europe, as is proved by the attempts at imitation which have been made in every language, must have been known in Brittany above all, united as it is to Gaul by a common origin and language. It must have become popular in the very form it wore when taught by the bards to the Armoricans.
But besides the successive alterations which are the speedy result of oral transmission, French imitations by degrees incorporated themselves with all the primitive versions. M. de la Villemarqué has in fact observed, in his learned work on the Popular Tales of the Ancient Bretons, that when the Gallic legends were developed by the French poets, they appeared so beautified in their new costume, that the Gauls themselves abandoned the originals in favour of the imitations. Now that which is true of them is equally so of the Armoricans; and it seems to us beyond a doubt that the tradition of Perédur, which they had originally received, must have been seriously modified by the later poem of Christian of Troyes.
In order to elucidate our idea, we will give a hasty analysis of this poem, which is little known, being only extant in manuscript.[8]
Perceval, the last remaining son of a poor widow, whom the miseries of war had left destitute, is simple, ignorant, and boorish. His mother carefully conceals from his sight every thing that might turn his attention to the idea of war; but one day the lad meets King Arthur’s knights, learns the secret so long hidden from him, and, his mind filled with nothing now but tournaments and battles, abandons his maternal roof and sets off for Arthur’s court. On the way he sees a pavilion, which, taking in his simplicity for a church, he enters. There he eats two roebuck pasties, and drinks a large flagon of wine; after which he goes once more upon his way, and soon arrives at Cardeuil, ill-clad, ill-armed, and ill-mounted. He finds Arthur buried in profound meditation, a treacherous knight having just carried off his golden cup, defying any warrior to take it from him again. Perceval accepts the challenge, pursues the thief, kills him, recovers the cup, and seizes on the slain knight’s armour. He is at length admitted into the order of chivalry.
But the recollection of his mother haunts him every where. What is he in quest of? He himself knows not; he wanders at random and without a purpose wherever his wild courser carries him. Thus one day he reaches a castle, and enters. A sick old man reposes there upon a bed; a servant appears with a lance from which flows one drop of blood, and then a damsel bearing a graal, or basin, of pure gold. Perceval longs to know the meaning of what he sees, but dares not ask. The following day, on leaving the castle, he is informed that the sick old man is called the fisher-king, and that he has been wounded in the thigh; Perceval is at the same time reproached for not having questioned him.
He continues onwards, meeting by chance Arthur, whom he follows to court; but the day after his arrival a lady clad in black appears to him, and warmly blames him for being the cause of the fisher-king’s sufferings.
“His wound,” said she, “has become incurable, because thou didst not question him.”
The knight, wishing to repair his fault, seeks in vain to find once more the king’s palace; he is repulsed as by an invisible hand, until the moment when he resolves to go and find a saintly hermit, to whom he makes his confession. The priest shows him that all his errors are owing to his ingratitude towards his mother, and that sin held his tongue in bondage when he ought to have inquired the meaning of the graal; he imposes a penance on him, gives him advice, reveals to him a mysterious prayer containing certain terrible words, which he forbids him from making known; and then Perceval, absolved from his sins, fasts, adores the Cross, hears Mass, receives Holy Communion, and returns to a new life.
He now sets forth in quest of the graal, and meets with a thousand obstacles. A woman, whom he has loved, White-Flower, appears, and endeavours to detain him; but he escapes from her. He fastens his horse to the golden ring of a pillar rising on a mountain called the Mount of Misery, arrives at length at the castle for which he sought, and this time fails not to inquire into the history of the lance and the graal. He is told that the lance is that with which Longus pierced the side of Christ, and that the graal is the basin in which Joseph of Arimathea received His divine blood. This has come down by inheritance to the fisher-king, who is descended from Joseph, and is Perceval’s uncle. It procures all good things, both spiritual and temporal, heals all wounds, and even restores life to the dead, besides becoming filled with the most delicious dainties at its owner’s desire.