ANCIENT TALES AND LEGENDS.

Otago Witness, Issue 1947, 18 June 1891, Page 36

ANCIENT TALES AND LEGENDS.

By Liseu .

GUY OF WARWICK AND THE DUN COW.

People nowadays are very matter-of-fact. They are not imaginative to any appreciable degree. If a gho3t appears and frightens some'timid maiden they forthwith set apolioeman to lay it, and if possible run it in. If " bobby- " be successful the gay and festive spirit generally gets a month in a somewhat scourer prison than the grave. If an animal develop a disagreeably pugnacious trait of character its owner "passes it on" — he seldom uses the knife to free the evil spirit that lurks within. In the good days of long ago our forefathers were more imaginative than we are. They lived in an age of witches and warlocks, fays and kelpies, dragons and giants, and prodigies of all kinds. They saw hosts fighting in the clouds, omens were sent to warn them of coming events, and angels or demons visited them 'at night. They lived in an age of romance. It was sometimes useful to believe in witches or warlocks, however. When fhe poor got old and feeble and garrulous, it was convenient they should turn into those wierd creatures who rode broomsticks in the air,

And shook both miokle corn and bear, And kept the country side in fear.

It was convenient to their relations and friends in this way — that they simply threw them in the village pond, carefully bound. If they sank, they oertainly deserved it for being -witches ; if they didn't, they most surely were aided by the powers of darkness and deserved to be burnt. But when some evil spirit entered into a usually wellbehaved cow or other domestic animal it ~was more difficult to exorcise. The mischievous imp that possessed it generally fortified the creature so that it was impervious to all ordinary weapons of destruction ; while he endowed it with the greatest possible desire for the destruction of other animals, and mor9 especially mankind. This was seemingly the case with the Dun Cow of Warwick, as the sequel will show.

In the days of King Athelstane a beautiful dun cow appeared from none knew where on the heath of Dunsmore, near Warwick town. She celebrated .her advent by goring a cowherd, driving his cattle away, and taking possession of the hut and cowyard where he was wont to rest his weary bones and safely pen his charge at night. For many a .day she lived on the heath, a terror to everyone, for so soon as an unfortunate passed that way, forth she rushed and gored and trampled him to death. It waa not long before the whitening bones and festering bodies of her victims testified to her' insatiable ferocity, and put the whole country side in a fright. Soon the moor became too small to satisfy her. craving for blood, and she wandered into the neighbouring fields and lanes to find her victims. The fame of her deeds spread throughout the land and attracted many knights eager to prove their prowess By killing hec ; but she overcame them all. It then became apparent to the dullest that she was no cow, but a monster that had taken that shape the better to lure her victims. Indeed, it was asserted by some that she was more like a tiger the size of an elephant than any other beast, so terrified had they become. To this day there are various stories told of her shape, but there is ample proof the beast was a cow possessed of a demon, that enabled her to resist the heaviest and sharpest spear or sword, and caused the arrows shot at her to glance aside as from the stoutest mail.

On one of her forays from the moor she passed the mill as the miller's fair daughter Joan was milking her father's cows. The devilish creature at once longed to add the damsel to her victims, and for this purpose assumed the appearance of the finest and most innocent of all her kind. Seeing so fair a prospect of obtaining an abundance of milk, the maiden approached with pail and stool, using endearing words, but ever as she would begin to milk the dun cow would move off, till she had enticed poor Joan into her lair on the moor. Now so unnatural a creature as this cow could not be expected to bring forth young, yet, strange to say, she had as great desire to be relieved of milk as if she had been recently calved — a proof, if any were needed, of her demoniacal nature. She was therefore nothing loth to allow the girl to do that service for her, and when she reached her lair stood quietly. Joan soon filled her pails, and thanking ",her fortune looked around for something else to hold the seemingly rich milk, but found nothing but an old sieve. Now, the beast had cast a spell on the maiden, who thus was unable to know what she did, and taking up the" sieve milked on and on. At last Joan grew weary, but no sooner did she stop than the monster turned, and bellowing terribly gored and tossed her. All this had been witnessed by a great multitude of neighbours, but they had been unable to do anything to help the devoted girl owing to the spell cast upon her.

Soon the news spread to the town of Warwick, and was told the Lady Phillis, daughter of the duke, the most beautiful of all women in England and foster sister of Joan. It happened at this time that that brave knight Guy of Warwick visited the castle to claim the Lady Phillis in marriage. He had but recently returned from abroad, whither he had gone to seek renown at the bidding of the lady, and was now resting from his toils and recovering from his wounds. He had proved himself worthy of her love, for he had killed thegreat dragon of Northumberland, the giant Armorant, and laid low the Danish champion and giant Col bran. He had worsted all in the tourney for the daughter of the Emperor Almaign, when that great monarch offered her hand as the prize to the chivalry of Christendom, but had relinquished the honour for the love he bore the Lady Phillis. To him the lady ran weeping and told her grief, and the terror the monster was to all the country. When Guy heard, all this and saw his lady-love in such deep distress he buckled on his armour, mounted his charger, and taking only his Jtrusty swerd, ■with which he had performed etich doughty deeds, sallied forth to do battle with the cow.

When that creature saw him approach she bellowed loudly and stamped round her lair fiercely, but did not leave it to meet the knight. So loud was the noise she made that the people came from far and near to see the fight. But Guy, nothing dismayed at all her fury, advanced to her lair, and dismounting, climbed the wall of the yard. The cow rushed at him, but he nimbly avoided him and dealt her a tremendous blow, which she parried with her horns. The strength of the stroke was so great that it forced the monster to pause, which enabled the knight to deal two more mighty strokes, but such was the devilish cunning of the beast that these she also successfully parried. Then the knight felt his strength failing through the weakness engendered by his late toils and wounds. Perceiving this, the cow pressed him the more closely, and pushed him against the railing of the yard, and pierced his armour with her horns. Then Guy thought his time was come, and commended his soul to his Saviour. But he resolved to deliver one last stroke, and remembering how she had parried the former strokes, he thrust his sword-point behind her shoulder with such force that it pierced her malignant heart. The blood gushed forth in a mighty stream, and with one terrible roar the monster fell forward and expired. As soon , as the dun cow was killed* the people, who had watched the fight from a safe distance came down and congratulated the hero.sTh.ey found Joan still alive, though sorely mangled, and removed her to her home, where she soon recovered her strength and beauty. Then the Lady Phillis, who had been at death's door with fear least her knight should be ovdrcome, ran forward and kissed him before them all, and shortly afterwards married and nursed him back to health and strength. The people cut the cow into small pieces and sent them throughout the kingdom as memorials of their deliverance, and to this day a rib remains in St. Peter's Church, hard "by the heath, to testify to tile truth of this story.