Pabo, the Priest: A Novel

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by S. Baring-Gould


  CHAPTER VII

  GRIFFITH AP RHYS

  The council-house of the Caio tribe was a large circular woodenstructure, with a conical thatched roof. There was a gable on one sidein which was a circular opening to serve as window, and it was unglazed.

  As Pabo entered with Howel the Tall, he was saluted with respect, and hereturned the salutation with grave courtesy.

  He took the seat reserved for him, and looked about him, mustering whowere present. They were all representative men, either because weightythrough wealth, force of character, or intellect.

  Among them were two officers, the one Meredith ap David, the Bard, who,in his retentive memory preserved the traditions of the tribe and thegenealogies of all the families of the district from Noah. The other wasMorgan ap Seissyl, the hereditary custodian of the staff of Cynwyl, andsacristan of the church, enjoying certain lands which went with the_baculus_, or staff, as well as certain dignities.

  Howel stepped into the center of the building and addressed thosepresent, and their president.

  "Father Pabo, we who are gathered together have done so with oneconsent, drawn hither by a common need, to take counsel in ourdifficulties. Seeing how grave is the situation in which we stand, howuncertain is the future, how ignorant we are of the devices of ourenemies, how doubtful what a day may bring forth--we have considered itexpedient to meet and devise such methods as may enable us to standshoulder to shoulder, and to frustrate the machinations of our commonfoe. By twos and threes we have talked of these things, and now wedesire to speak in assembly concerning them.

  "And, first of all, we have considered the threats of Bernard, whom theKing of the English has thrust upon us by his mere will, to be bishopover us; a man of whom we hear no good, who cannot speak our tongue, whodespises our nation and its customs, and mocks at our laws. A man is hewho has not entered the sheepfold by the door, but has climbed inanother way."

  His words were received with a murmur of assent.

  "And the first time that this intruder has opened his mouth, it has beento provoke unto strife, and to fill all hearts with dismay. He erectsbarriers where was open common. He prohibits unions which the Word ofGod does not disallow. He creates spiritual relationships as occasionsand excuses for dissolving marriages, where no blood ties exist. Heproclaims his mission to be one of breaking up of families and makinghouses desolate. Now we are sheep without a shepherd, a flock in themidst of wolves. We are neither numerous enough nor strong enough toresist the over-might that is brought against us. By the blessing ofDavid, we have been ever men of peace. Our hands are unaccustomed tohandle the bow and wield the sword. We have no prince over us to leadus. We have no bishop over us to advise us. The throne of our fatherDavid is usurped by an intruder whom we will not acknowledge."

  He paused. Again his words roused applause.

  "And now, it seems to me, that as we are incapable of opposing force toforce, we must take refuge in subtlety. It has pleased God, whoconfounded the speech of men at Babel, that we should preserve thatoriginal tongue spoken by Adam in Paradise, in his unfallen state, andthat the rest of mankind, by reason of the blindness of their hearts,and the dulness of their understandings, are hardly able to acquire it.Now it has further pleased Providence, which has a special care over ourelect nation, that our relationships should present a perplexity to allsave unto ourselves. I am creditably informed that the English peopleare beginning to call themselves after their trades, and to hand downtheir trade names to their children, so that John the Smith's sons anddaughters be also entitled Smiths, although the one be a butcher, andanother a weaver--which is but one token out of many that this is aninsensate people. Moreover, some call themselves after the place wherethey were born, and although their children and children's children beborn elsewhere, yet are they called after the township whence came theirfather--an evident proof of sheer imbecility. Again, it is said that ifa John Redhead, so designated by reason of a fiery poll, have adark-haired son, though the head of this latter be as a raven's wing,yet is he a Redhead. One really marvels that Providence should suffersuch senseless creatures to beget children. But there is worse stillbehind. A Tom has a son George, and he is called Tomson. But if thisGeorge have a son Philip, then Philip is not Georgeson, but Tomson.Stupidity could go no farther. Now we are wiser. I am Howel ap John, andJohn was ap Roderick, and he ap Thomas. There were assuredly a score ofJohns in Caio when my father lived, and say that each had five children.Then there be now in the tribe a hundred persons who bear the name of apJohn or merch John. Who is to say which John begat this lad or thatlass, and therefore to decide who are consanguineous, and who are not?There is one man only whose duty and calling it is to unravel thetangle, and this is Meredith, the genealogist. Should the bishop comehere again, or send his commissioner, we have the means of raising sucha cloud of confusion with our Johns and Morgans, or Thomases andMerediths, with the _aps_ and our _merchs_, as will utterly bewilder hisbrains. I defy any pig-headed Englishman or Norman either to discoverour relationships unless he gets hold of the genealogist."

  This was so obviously true and so eminently consolatory that all noddedapprovingly.

  "This being the case," pursued Howel, "as there is but a single man tounravel this tangle, Meredith ap David, and as he would consider it hissacred duty conscientiously to give every pedigree if asked--therefore Iadvise that he go into hiding. Then, when the bishop comes we take itupon ourselves to confound his head with our relationships--consanguine,affine, and spiritual--so that he will be able to do nothing in thematter of dissolving our marriages. A child who is ill-treated lies. Inthat way it seeks protection. An ill-treated people takes refuge insubterfuge. It is permissible."

  This long speech was vastly approved, and all present, even the bardhimself, voted with uplifted right hand that it should be carried intoeffect.

  Then Jorwerth the smith stood up and said--

  "It is well spoken; but all is not done. The chief danger menaces usthrough our head. It is at the head that the deadly blow is aimed.Griffith ap Rhys, our prince, is not among us. A true bishop is not overus. We have none but our Father Pabo; and him we must do our utmost topreserve. It is he who stands in greater peril than we. It is true thatI struck a fellow on the arm because he molested the wife of our chief;but that was naught. Blows are exchanged among men and thought lightlyof. But our Father Pabo smote the bishop in the mouth and broke histeeth. That will never be forgiven him--never; and the intruder Bernardwill compass sea and land to revenge on him that blow. If our head betaken, what will become of us, the members? If it be thought expedientthat Meredith the Bard should go into hiding, then I give my voice thatour chief should also seek out a refuge where he may not be found."

  This opinion was met with murmurs of approval. Then the tall Howel roseand said, "You marked what I said before, that although we approve notdeception, yet must the weak take resort unto trickery when matchedagainst the strong. So be it--our Archpriest Pabo shall disappear, anddisappear so that the enemy shall not know that he be alive. Leave thisto me. An opportunity offers--that Heaven has given to us. Ask me not toexplain."

  "It is well. We trust thee, Howel."

  Then they heard a distant murmur, a hum as of a rising wind, the rustleof trees, the beating of waves. It drew nearer, it waxed louder, itbroke out into cries of joy and shouts of exultation as at the bringingin of harvest, and the crowned sheaf--the _tori pen y wrach_.

  The elders of Caio listened and wondered.

  Then through the door sprang a young man, and stood where a fallingsunbeam from the one round window rested on him.

  He had flowing golden hair that reached his shoulders in curls. He wastall, lithe, graceful, and beautiful.

  In a moment they all knew him, as those had recognized him on the wayand had accompanied him to the churchtown.

  The old, the gray-headed, strong iron men, and those who were feeble atonce encircled him. They threw themselves at his feet, they clasped hisknees, those who could kissed his hand
s, others the hem of his garment.

  "Griffith, our Prince! Our heart and soul, our King!"

 

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