CHAPTER IV
A HWYL
A Welsh church at the period of the Norman Conquest was much what it hadbeen from the time when Christianity had been adopted by the Britons. Itwas of wood, as has been already stated.
The insular Celt could never apply himself to the quarrying and shapingof stone.
The church of Cynwyl was oblong, built of split logs, roofed withthatch. The eaves projected, so as to shelter the narrow windows fromthe drift of rain, as these latter were unglazed. Only in the chancelwere they protected by sheep's amnion stretched on frames.
A gallows of timber standing at a short distance from the west endsupported the bell. This was neither circular nor cast, but was oblongin shape, of hammered metal, and riveted. The tone emitted was shrilland harsh, but perhaps was on this account better suited to be heard ata distance than had it been deep in tone and musical in note.
Rude although the exterior of the church was, the interior was by nomeans deficient in beauty, but this beauty was limited to, or at leastconcentrated on, the screen that divided the long hall into twoportions. There were no aisles, the only division into parts waseffected by the screen, that was pierced by a doorway in the middle.
This screen was, indeed, constructed of wood in compartments, and eachcompartment was filed with an intricate and varied tracery of plaitedwillow wands. It was the glory and the delight of the Celt to expend hisartistic effort on the devising and carrying out of some original designin interlaced work--his knots and twists and lattice were ofincomparable beauty and originality. If he took to carving on stone, itwas to reproduce on the best tractable material his delightful laceworkof osiers.
The patterns of the compartments were not merely varied in plaits, butcolor was skilfully introduced by the flexible rods having been dyed byherbs or lichens, and a further variety was introduced by the partialpeeling of some of the wands in rings. Moreover, to heighten theeffect, in places flat pieces of wood like shuttles, but with dragons'heads carved on them, were introduced among the plait as a means ofbreaking continuity in design and allowing of a fresh departure inpattern.
Within the screen a couple of oil-lamps burned, rendered necessary bythe dusk there produced by the membrane that covered the windows. Here,beneath the altar, was preserved the abbatial staff of the founder--astaff invested by popular belief with the miraculous powers.
On the last day of April every year, this staff was solemnly broughtforth and carried up the river Annell, to a point where rested anenormous boulder, fallen from the mountain crag, and resting beside thestream, where it glanced and frothed over a slide of rock, in which weredepressions scooped by the water, but superstitiously held to have beenworn by the Apostle of Caio as he knelt in the water at his prayers andrecitation of the Psalter. Here the Archpriest halted, and with thestaff stirred the water. It was held that by this means the Annell wasassured to convey health and prosperity to the basin of the Cothi, intowhich it discharged its blessed waters. Hither were driven flocks andherds to have the crystal liquid scooped from the hollows in the rock,and sprinkled over them, as an effectual preservative against murrain.
The bishop occupied a stool within the screen. On this occasion he hadnothing further to do than proclaim his inflexible determination tomaintain the prohibition of marriage within the seven degrees for thefuture, and to annul all such unions as fell within them, whethernaturally or artificially, and to illegitimatize all children the issueof such marriages. It was the object of the Norman invaders to sow theseed of discord among those whose land they coveted, to produce suchconfusion in the transmission of estates as to enable them to interveneand dispossess the native owners, not always at the point of the sword,but also with the quill of the clerk.
The villagers had crowded into the sacred building, they stood or kneltas densely as they could be packed, and through the open door could beseen faces thronging to hear such words as might reach them without.Every face wore an expression of suspicion, alarm, or resentment. Pabostood outside the screen upon a raised step or platform, whence he waswont to read to or address his congregation. It sustained a desk, onwhich reposed the Scriptures.
The bishop's chaplain occupied the center of the doorway through thescreen. He held a parchment in his hand, and he hastily read itscontents in Latin first, and then translated it into Welsh. Pabo was atall man, with dark hair and large deep eyes, soft as those of an ox,yet capable of flashing fire. He was not over thirty-five years of age,yet looked older, as there was gravity and intensity in his face beyondhis years. He was habited in a long woolen garment dyed almost but notwholly black. He was hearkening to every word that fell, his eyes fixedon the ground, his hands clenched, his lips closed, lines forming in hisface.
It escaped Bernard, behind the lattice-work, and incapable of observingsuch phenomena, how integrally one, as a single body, the tribesmenpresent were with their ecclesiastical and political chieftain. Theireyes were riveted, not on the reader, but on the face of Pabo. The leastchange in his expression, a contraction of the brow, a quiver of thelip, a flush on the cheek, repeated itself in every face.
Whilst the lection in Latin proceeded, the people could understand nomore of it than what might be discerned from its effect on theirArchpriest; but it was other when the chaplain rendered it intoevery-day vernacular. Yet even then, they did not look to his lips. Theyheard his words, but read the commentary on them in the face of Pabo.
They understood now with what they were menaced. It was shown to them,not obscurely. They knew as the allocution proceeded what it involved ifcarried out: there were wives present whose sentence of expulsion fromtheir homes was pronounced, children who were bastardized anddisinherited, husbands whose dearest ties were to be torn and snapped.
Not a sound was to be heard save the drone of the reader's voice; tillsuddenly there came a gasp of pain--then a sob.
Again an awful hush. Men set their teeth and their brows contracted; themuscles of their faces became knotted. Women held their palms to theirmouths. Appealing hands were stretched to Pabo, but he did not stir.
Then, when the translation was ended, the chaplain looked round insilence to Bernard, who made a sign with his hand and nodded.
In a loud and strident voice the chaplain proceeded: "By order ofBernard, by the grace of God, and the favor of his Majesty the King,Bishop of St. David's and Primate of all Wales--all such as havecontracted these unlawful unions shall be required within ten days fromthis present to separate from the women with whom they have lived ashusbands, and shall not occupy the same house with them, nor eat at thesame board, under pain of excommunication. And it is further decreedthat in the event of contumacy, of delay in fulfilling what is herebyrequired, or refusal to fulfil these lawful commands, after warning,such contumacious person shall forfeit all his possessions, whether inlands or in movable goods, or cattle--his wearing apparel aloneexcepted; and such possessions shall be divided into three equalportions, whereof one-third shall be confiscated to the Crown, one-thirdshall fall to the Church Metropolitan, and, again, one-third----" Heraised his head. Then Bernard moved forward in his seat that he mightfix his eyes upon Pabo; there was a lifting of his upper lip on oneside, as he signed to the chaplain to proceed: "And, again, one-thirdshall be adjudged as a grace to the Informer." A moan swept through thecongregation like that which precedes the breaking of a storm, "To theInformer," repeated the chaplain; "who shall denounce to the Lord Bishopsuch unions as have been effected in this district of Caio within theforbidden degrees."
This last shaft pierced deepest of all. It invited, it encouraged,treachery. It cast everywhere, into every family, the sparks that wouldcause conflagration. It was calculated to dissolve all friendships, tobreed mistrust in every heart.
Then Pabo lifted his head.
His face was wet as though he had been weeping, but the drops that ranover his cheeks fell, not from his glowing eyes, but from hissweat-beaded brow.
He turned back the book that was on the desk and opened it. He s
aid nowords of his own, but proceeded to read from the volume in a voice deep,vibrating with emotion; and those who heard him thrilled at his tones.
"Thus saith the Lord God. Behold, I, even I, will judge between the fatcattle and between the lean cattle. Because ye have thrust with side andwith shoulder, and pushed all the diseased with your horns, till yehave scattered them abroad; therefore will I save my flock, and theyshall no more be a prey; and I will judge between cattle and cattle----"
"What doth he say? What readeth he?" asked the bishop of his chaplain,whom he had beckoned to him.
Pabo heard his words, turned about and said--"I am reading the oracle ofGod. Is that forbidden?" A woman in the congregation cried out; anotherburst into sobs.
Pabo resumed the lection, and his voice unconsciously rose and fell in amusical wail: "I will set up one shepherd over them, and he shall feedthem." At once--like a rising song, a mounting wave of sound--came thevoice of the people, as they caught the words that rang in their hearts;they caught and repeated the words of the reader after him--"Oneshepherd, and he shall feed them." And as they recited in swelling andfalling tones, they moved rhythmically, with swaying bodies and raisedand balanced arms. It was an electric, a marvelous quiver of a commonemotion that passed through the entire congregation. It went further--ittouched and vibrated through those outside, near the door--it wentfurther, it affected those beyond, who knew not what was said.
Pabo continued--and his voice rolled as if in a chant--"I will set upone shepherd over them, and he shall feed them--even my servant DAVID."
"David! He shall feed us--even he, our father--our father David!"
Those kneeling started to their feet, stretched their arms to heaven.Their tears poured forth like rain, their voices, though broken by sobs,swelled into a mighty volume of sound, thrilling with the intensity oftheir distress, their hope, their fervor of faith--"Even he shallcome--God's servant David!" At the name, the loved name, they broke intoan ecstatic cry, "And I the Lord will be their God, and my servant Davida prince among them; I the Lord have spoken it."[1] The chaplaintranslated. "He is uttering treason!" shouted Bernard, starting up."David a prince among them! We have no King but Henry."
Then from without came cries, shouts, a rushing of feet, an angry roar,and the clash of weapons.
[Footnote 1: "A minnau yr Arglwydd a fyddaf yn Dduw iddynt, a'm gwasDafydd yn dywysog yn eu mysg; myfi yr Arglwydd a leferais hyn."--Ez.xxxiv. 24.]