There were more giants in Cornwall than in any other part of the land. One of them was called Goëmagot; he was so strong that he could pull up an oak-tree as if it were only a hazel-wand. Now there was a great fight between the Britons and the Cornish giants, and all the giants were killed but Goëmagot. Then he and a famous Briton fought together, and all men stood by to watch. At first it seemed that the giant would win for he wounded the Briton sorely; but, wounded as he was, the Briton heaved Goëmagot up on his shoulders, ran with him to the shore, and flung him headlong into the sea; and (so says the story) the rock from which he fell is called "The Giant's Leap" unto this day. All this happened near the place where Plymouth now stands. What has it to do with London? In the Guildhall, which is the Council Hall of London, are many statues of great and famous men, and here are also two great wooden giants called Gog and Magog; they are the City's giants. Once they used to be carried in the Lord Mayor's Show and in processions to make the people wonder. The older giant is said to be Goëmagot; the other, the Briton who hurled him headlong into the sea.
Long after Brute died, Belinus became King. Of all his wonderful history I can tell you only this,—he placed a great building in Trinovantum (that is, London,) upon the banks of the Thames, and the citizens called it, after his name, Billingsgate. Over it he built a huge tower, and under it a fair haven or quay for ships. "At last, when he had finished his days, his body was burned, and the ashes put up in a golden urn, which they placed with wonderful art on the top of the tower" which he himself had built. Have you ever heard of Billingsgate? It is the chief fish-market of London, and its wharf is the oldest on the Thames, so old that no one knows when fish were first landed and sold there.
Many years after Belinus built his great tower, Lud became King. He "not only repaired this Cittie" (that is, Trinovantum,) "but also increased the same with faire buildings, Towers and walles; and after his own name called it Caire Lud, as Lud's towne." And about sixty-six years before Christ was born he built a strong gate in the west part of the city, and he named it, in his own honour, Ludgate; and when he died his body was buried by this gate. Turn back to the little [map] of London on p. 11; there you will find Ludgate marked. St. Paul's Cathedral stands just to the east of it, on Ludgate Hill.
These stories were first written down by a Welsh priest called Geoffrey of Monmouth, who lived in the days of King Stephen; and long ago everyone believed they were true. Then came a time when people said what, perhaps, you are thinking, "These stories are only fairy-tales. Who made them up?" Well, Geoffrey of Monmouth said, in his book written nearly 800 years ago, that he had read them in a still older book which came out of Brittany. Who else had read this old book? No one, so Geoffrey said; so people left off believing them; they were put aside and forgotten. Now wise men think that they are really the old stories of our nation which have been passed down from father to son, and that perhaps the heroes of which they tell are the gods the people once worshipped, that Lud was a God of the Waters. If so, was it not very natural that he was worshipped in Old London on the shores of the Thames and the Fleet Rivers?
There is another hero, Bran the Blessed, of whom I must tell you. He too was King of the Isle of the Mighty, as Britain was called. He was so big no ship could contain him for he was like a mountain, and his eyes were like two lakes. In the end of his days he fought with the Irish in their own land until only he and seven of his followers were left alive, and he was wounded unto death. And he said to his followers, "Very soon I shall die; then cut off my head, and take it with you to London, and there bury it in the White Mountain looking towards France, and no foreigners shall invade the land while it is there." Much more he told them of the manner of their coming to London, and all that he said came true, so that many years passed away before in the White Mount, where the Tower now stands, they buried the head. There it lay until Arthur dug it up, for he said, "The strong arm should defend the land." He meant that the men of a nation should be its defence.
Arthur himself was proclaimed King in London. Perhaps you remember the old story of the child who was brought up so secretly that, when the King, his father, died, no one knew who was now the rightful King or, indeed, if there was one. Then, as Merlin the Magician had advised, the Archbishop of Canterbury called on all the great lords of the kingdom to come together in London; and there, one day, outside the greatest church in the City (was it St. Paul's, I wonder?) they saw a great stone with a sword sticking in it; and round about the stone, written in letters of gold, were these words:—"Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone is right wise born King of England." The great lords tried to pull it out, and not one of them could do so; but young Arthur, who had come to town with his foster-father and foster-brother, pulled it out easily, not because he wanted to show that he was the King,—he does not seem to have known about this,—but because his foster-brother had sent him to fetch a sword and he could get no other. Thus, all men knew that he was "right wise born King of England."
