HAVELOK THE DANE
By GEORGE PHILIP KRAPP
(1872—). Professor of English in Columbia University. He is a member of many scholarly societies, and has written much on English. Among his books are The Elements of English Grammar; In Oldest England; The Rise of English Literary Prose.
The story of Havelok the Dane is one of the oldest of English stories; for the story that is here told is only a re-telling of a narrative that originated nearly a thousand years ago. The first story of Havelok was probably written in Anglo-Saxon in the eleventh century or in the first half of the twelfth century. It was told in French about 1150, and re-told in English about 1300. Some critics find close relation between the story of Havelok and the story of Hamlet.
In all probability there was a real Havelok who may have lived in the latter part of the tenth century, and who may have participated in events like those told in the story. It is probable that as stories of his romantic career were repeated they increased,—just as gossip increases. The facts became lost in a body of romantic events. The Havelok of the story is therefore a character of fiction.
The story is interesting in many ways. First of all, it is a remarkably good story, very human and capable of awakening sympathy, full of quick event, centered around the fascinating subjects of youth, adventure and love, and picturesque in its details and episodes. Then it is an old story,—ten centuries old,—and is interesting as a relic of the past. In addition, it shows remarkably well what sort of stories preceded the short stories and the novels of to-day, and how the old stories sometimes grew from a mingling of fact and imagination.
In reading the story of Havelok the Dane we stand, as it were, in the presence of one of the story tellers of the extreme past. Around us we feel castle walls and the presence of rough fighting men. The flames of the great fireplace flare on our faces, and we listen with childlike interest.
Many years ago, in the days of the Angles and Saxons, there was once a king of England whose name was Athelwold. In that time a traveler might bear fifty pounds of good red gold on his back throughout the length and breadth of England, and no one would dare molest him. Robbers and thieves were afraid to ply their calling, and all wrong-doers were careful to keep out of the way of King Athelwold's officers. That was a king worth while.
Now this good King Athelwold had no heir to his throne but one young daughter, and Goldborough was her name. Unhappily, when she was just old enough to walk, a heavy sickness fell upon King Athelwold, and he saw that his days were numbered. He grieved greatly that his daughter was not old enough to rule and to become queen of England after him, and called all the lords and barons of England to come to him at Winchester to consult concerning the welfare of his kingdom and of his daughter.
Finally it was decided that Godrich, Earl of Cornwall, who was one of the bravest, and, everybody said, one of the truest, men in all England, should take charge of the child Goldborough and rule the kingdom for her until she was old enough to be made queen. On the Holy Book, Earl Godrich swore to be true to this trust which he had undertaken, and he also swore, as the king commanded, that when Goldborough reached the proper age, he would marry her to the highest, the fairest, and the strongest man in the kingdom. When all this was done, the king's mind was at rest, for he had the greatest faith in the honor of Earl Godrich. It was not long thereafter that the end came. There was great grief at the death of the good king, but Godrich ruled in his stead and was the richest and most powerful of all the earls in England. We shall say no more about him while Goldborough is growing older, and in the end we shall see whether Earl Godrich was true to his trust and to the promises he had given to Goldborough's father.