Legendary Yorkshire

by Frederick Ross

On entering the Brigantian kingdom they learned that the capital city was Iseur, some considerable distance northward, and thither they bent their way in the hope of enlightening the King in spiritual matters as a means of facilitating the conversion of his people. With wearied steps they passed from village to village, through forests and swamps, and over black moorlands, fording the rivers where practicable, or where they were too deep for so doing going along the bank until they met with a fisherman or villager to ferry them across in his coracle; and in due course, after many days of toilsome journeying, came to the city of Iseur.

The city stood in a forest clearing, surrounded by a stockade of felled trees, with an entrenchment for protection against enemies, and for the security of their flocks and herds against the attacks of wild beasts. In the centre stood the King's Palace, a tolerably spacious edifice built of unhewn blocks of stone, placed in cyclopean fashion without mortar; and scattered around were the mud-built and straw-thatched dwellings of the people. There was no temple of their deity, the gods of the Britons disdaining mortal-built places of worship. But adjacent was a separate forest clearing, with a circling of huge forest oaks, on which grew the sacred mistletoe, which constituted a temple not built with hands; and in which was a pool of water, indispensable in the ceremonials of their religion, where the beaver abounded, and was used as an emblem of the flood, of which the Britons had a tradition; and here were constructed the wickerwork forms of gigantic human beings, which at certain seasons were filled with men, women, and children, and burnt to propitiate the wrath of their god.

They proceeded to the palace of the King and asked for an audience, which was granted them after some demur; the King feeling uncertain, from the description his attendants gave of their foreign aspect, outlandish dresses, and imperfect utterance of the British language, whether they might not be enemies, assassins, or sorcerers come hither to take his life or subject him to some other evil. He received them seated on a sort of throne, clad in a white, coarsely woven tunic of wool reaching half way down his thighs, and leaving the lower limbs altogether uncovered, and over his shoulders a wolf-skin mantle, whilst he supported his dignity by holding in his right hand a long bronze-headed spear, with a richly-carved shaft. By his side sat his Queen, and at his feet gambolled three or four children, whilst around him stood representatives of the Druidical hierarchy—the Druids proper or high priests, the Eubates or soothsayers, and the Bards who chanted anthems to the glory of their god and recited odes in praise of the warriors and great men of their race.

The King inquired of the strangers who they were and what was their purpose in thus coming to his court. The Apostles replied that they were people of a far distant land, near the sunrising, and had come hither to show them their errors in worshipping false gods, and point out to them the true object of worship, the one only God, the Maker of heaven and earth, and the awarder of happiness or misery in the future life beyond the grave. A murmur of dissatisfaction arose at this announcement amongst the Druids, who whispered amongst themselves that it was fitting such blasphemers should be offered up as sacrifices to their god.

"Truly," said the King, "you have come on a strange errand; we are firm believers in and devout worshippers of the one Supreme God, as you pretend to be. Do we not yearly offer up on His altars hundreds of human victims to propitiate His good-will? What more would you have? We believe what you do, and a great deal more, for we have a host of minor deities whom we pay adoration to. Methinks you had better return to your own country and not trouble us with your hallucinations, so as to cause a schism in the faith. We are content with our own belief, which teaches us that when we die the souls of those who have done justly will pass gradually into a higher and higher sphere, until at length, when perfectly purified, it will become absorbed in the essence of the Deity, or become an inferior god; whilst those of the wicked will be transformed to the bodies of inferior and unclean animals, and eventually be annihilated."

The Apostles upon this explained briefly the principles of the Christian religion, the fall of man and his loss of the divine favour, his necessary condemnation to temporal and eternal death, and the redemptorial scheme, in which God himself, or rather his Son, who was identical with himself, suffered death on the cross, taking upon himself, in lieu of man, the threatened penalty.

"Is your God dead, then?" inquired the King; "or is it possible for God to die. If so, our faith is better than yours, for our God is immortal."

The Apostles then entered into an elaborate disquisition on the subtleties of the necessity and nature of the Divine scheme for the salvation of the human race, but the reasonings were too abstruse for the King's comprehension, as, indeed, were they for the more cultured minds of the Druids; therefore the King declined any further discourse on the subject, adding that he was perfectly willing that they should be courteously treated and have fair play, as they had come so far with the intent, as it seemed to them, of doing him and his people a service; therefore he would appoint a day on which they should have a full and fair discussion with the Druids on the merits of the respective faiths, and in the meantime they should be hospitably entertained at his cost, and with this the audience terminated.

It happened that at this time the Father of Evil was prowling about Britain, with the object of thwarting the efforts of St. Joseph and his band of missionaries for the evangelisation of the land. He employed himself chiefly about Glastonbury and its neighbourhood, the primitive and central seat of British Christianity, and centuries elapsed before he relaxed his persistent attempt to eradicate the faith, hostile to himself, which had taken root there. Nine hundred years afterwards we find that he was a perpetual annoyance to the holy St. Dunstan in his Glastonbury cell, continually intruding upon him when engaged in his studies, and offering to him the most seductive temptations, until, on one occasion, he made his appearance before him when he was engaged on some blacksmith work, and commenced tempting him to sell his soul to him for unbounded wealth and the highest temporal distinction. The saint, however, was proof against his temptations, and resolved to free himself once for all from his importunities, took his red-hot tongs from the fire, and seized him by the nose. The devil roared out lustily with the pain, although one would fancy, from fire being his natural element, that it would not incommode him greatly; nevertheless, he prayed abjectly to be released from the tongs, but the saint would not release him until he promised to give him no further annoyance.

He had followed in the footsteps of the three Apostles on the northern mission, and was present, although invisible, at the interview with the King of the Brigantes; and when the conference between the Apostles and the Druids was arranged by the King, he determined upon presenting himself at the meeting in a more tangible and palpable form, to overthrow the arguments of the former by the power of his eloquence and logical force of reasoning, feeling exceedingly loth to run the risk of losing so cherished a section of his dominions, which would ensue in case the King should be convinced by the preaching and the powerful arguments of the Apostles.