Bran the Blessed

“ It gives the significant descent of Bran from Llyr, and thereby equates him with Mannanan Mac Lir, with whom he presents otherwise so many points of contact. It is quite true that the Bran legend, as is pointed out to me by Professor Rhys, is mentioned neither in the earliest genealogies nor in Geoffrey. But it should be noted that the Grand St. Graal does bring one member of the Brons group, Petrus, into contact with King Luces, the Lucius to whom Geoffrey ascribes the conversion. Again, the epithet “blessed” is applied to Bran in the Mabinogi of Branwen, daughter of Llyr. ”

“ Bran nodded. “When the poor grudge the poor, hell is upon earth. Take up the moneys, good fellow.”
So the man of the tavern, knowing himself an extortioner, blessed him and warmed to him and asked where he was going. But when Bran spoke of the fair at St. Edmundsbury the taverner threw up his hands.
“St. Edmund's fair! God have mercy, minstrel! ”

“ He drew his sword and kissed the cross hilt, and held it up in salute. "You were a King and a knight," he said.
From the dead man's feet rose up Bran. "Yea, child, yea, love him in his death," he said. "He does not die, he does not die!"
"What, old Bran, is there none but his fool to weep for him?"
"Na, na, child. I weep not for him. He is gone to the peace. I weep for Bran, who is alone all his days."
"True man are you. I have a place for you, old Bran. Follow you me. God's death, serve me as you served him and I am well served." ”

“ Let him be a monk and have done."
But Bran shook his head till the bells jingled. "If that be done we are all undone. I fear no sinner under the sun. When my foe turns saint, it is time to run."
"The devil is sick, the devil a saint would be," the justiciar smiled. "But of this sickness there is no healing, master Bran." ”

“ From the truffles to Bran, from Bran to the truffles, the good folk stared unbelieving. "How, in God's name?" quoth Godric.
"Where the beeches grow, there grow truffles," Bran shrugged.
"But you have no dog, man. Or—" he crossed himself and looked all about. "What aids you?"
Bran laughed. "Nenny, nenny. No dog, nor pig neither. Nay, nor ghost thereof. Bran hath only Bran. But Bran is the good earth's brother."
"You are more than a man."
"Yea, yea, or less, being a fool."
So they made a savoury meal, and when they began to be genial, "What is this Eudo, brother, that you love him so?" ”

“ By——"
"Nay, brother, by the eyes," says Bran and looked into his.
"God's body, tell my fortune, then. I do not fear." He stopped his horse.
"Have your will," Bran said. "Come down to earth and eat bread with me. We are all one life then," and he slid off his pony and opening his scrip set bread and meat and salt upon the grass. The Frenchman laughed at him but sat down and held out his hand. "Eat, brother," says Bran, grave as a priest.
"Nay, faith, he is quite mad, sir," says the girl. "He will see death in your face as like as not." ”

“ Nenny, nenny, poor Bran is a fool. There is no past nor time to come. Now is all. What hath been is naught and hath no power over what shall come, if what now is is wisely done and well. That is the faith for man. Now is all, Bran, my brother. But you are no man. You have no life. You are a dreamer and a dream. You are a word in the air, you are a thought in the mind, you are a hope in the heart. ”

“ Bran looked at her with his twisted smile. "Aye, ride you back to him and tell him Queen Eleanor is trapped. He will love you for that, your dear lord."
Still Bran looked at her steadily and he said: "Why, cousin my queen, of you and me, it is Bran the fool I would rather be."
"Oh, I am a cursed woman!" she cried. "I must ever strike what I love. You are a true man."
"Nenny, nenny. Bran is the world's poor fool. Bran is a tool in your hand. Bran is the shoe on your foot. But Bran will bear you safe, cousin. See, there is Holy Church." ”

“ He rode on to the gate in the wall and, none hindering him, came to the long low house of red sandstone.
"All journeys end, King Philip," says he to his mule, and swung out of the saddle with a jingle of bells. "Is there ever a man who knows poor Bran?" he called.
"Bran!" a deep voice shouted, and hurrying came a mass of a man, white-bearded, but sturdy for all his bulk and age. "Yea and yea, brother. Here is man and woman and child to make you right welcome." He grasped both hands. "So Bran is come home at the last." ”

“ Bran looked up at him. “And you, brother, do you think you could take her to wife?”
“God have mercy, fool, you are too righteous. Man and maid must have their fun.”
“There is other work for you, brother. You were not born to spoil poor men's maids.”
The Frenchman glowered at him. “The devil burn you and your homilies.”
“Yea, yea.” Bran threw another stone into the water. “And kings are but men and nen are but kings. So God save all.”
The Frenchman laughed. “Now God have mercy, fool, what is this?”
“Why this is thus, brother. You are but King Stephen without a crown.” ”

“ Bran shrugged.
"I like it not when the sheep dog runs with the wolves."
"Like no man till his head is gray, youth it buys what age must pay."
"Why, if this were a boy's fling, no harm. But what company does he keep? My lord of Leicester, old Hugh Bigod, the Earl of Clare. You are a younger man yourself, old Bran. It is a green head seeking the grey—and them who have grown grey as his father's enemies. God's my life, I think his mother's spirit works in him. ”

“ On the day of the christening itself he said:
"We 'll call him Bran if you like, Val--one of Ireland's old savage kings. I think that son of yours will be some one fine some day," he added with a boyish, lovable smile, that had something of pride in it, and something of humility too, and for those words Val forgave him and was happy again. And the baby was baptised into the Holy Catholic Church under the pagan and kingly name of Bran.
CHAPTER VII
MORE WINDING PATHS
"There is a crack in everything God has made." ”

“ Bran is certainly not a dark god of blight, but rather the reverse, since his cauldron resuscitates the dead. In crossing to Ireland he carried his musicians on his back, and this may point to his being a divinity of musicians and bards. If so, he, as the Urdawl Ben ("Noble Head") , may be compared to the Uthr Ben ("Wonderful Head") of a Taliesin poem, which boasted of being a bard, harper, and piper, and equal to seven score professionals.32 Arthur disinterred Bran's head, not wishing to owe the defence of Britain to it. ”

“ The god sang to the voyagers and told how he was passing over a flowery plain, for what Bran saw as the sea was to Manannan a plain. The speckled salmon in the sea were calves and lambs, and steeds invisible to Bran were there also. People were sitting playing and drinking wine, and making love without crime. Bran's coracle was not on the waves, but on an immortal wood, yielding fruit and perfume; the folk of that land were immortal and sinless, unlike Adam's descendants, and in it rivers poured forth honey. Finally Manannan bade Bran row to Tír na m-Ban, which he would reach by sunset. ”

“ Till sae boldly she came to his bed-side.
"O, Earl Bran, fain wad I see
A pack of hounds let loose on the lea."
"O lady, I have no steeds but one,
And thou shalt ride, and I will run."
"O Earl Bran, my father has two,
And thou shalt have the best of them a'."
They have ridden o'er moss and moor,
And they met neither rich nor poor,
Until they met with old Carl Hood,
He comes for ill, but never for good.
"Earl Bran, if ye love me,
Seize this old carl, and gar him die."
"O lady fair, it wad be sair,
To slay an old man that has grey hair. ”

“ Bran looked up at him wistfully: "Is it peace, lord?"
"I am weary of strife, brother. I would be at peace with all men but those who war upon God."
"How shall a man know them who they are?"
Becket drew back. "You make cunning questions, master Bran."
"I am answered," Bran said sadly. "Na, na, Bran lays no traps. Bran would live at peace and be kind. Oh brother, my brother, what help for this torn realm in strife?" ”

“ But oh, Bran, Bran, it is to the King you must speak."
Bran smiled. "Thomas my brother, of two in a quarrel, was there ever a man who would not bid you school the other? Nay, you know him well. You loved him once——"
"And still would love him. He is my King and my true friend he was and out of nothing he made me."
"Sooth, sooth. But you know him. He is a hot man and quick to anger and when his rage is upon him he does wildly. And you—do you know yourself as well, Thomas, my lord?"
"Ay, a hard man am I," Becket smiled. ”

“ My lord made his bow, and then the King nodded Bran away and was forward to please him.
In the chimney corner Bran sat by himself and talked to himself. "Yea, yea, a kind heart are you, Henry my son, but in the head you are naught and for a King, God help you. Fie, how he fawns on the old robber! Your father never feared the face of man, child, nay, not when he was landless and friendless. And you who have the power that he made for you, you cringe. There is base blood in you though his son you be. God have mercy, boy. What is de Clare that you should seek his favour? ”

“ Oh, Harry, if Bran--if Bran--!" Her eyes darkened with tears, her lips twisted in an anguish of terror and love and foreboding.
"Never think of such a thing," cried Harriott. "It is like inviting the daughter of Zeus to come after you. You will have Bran and much more than Bran, dear. Your life is far from over. There are those whom Sorrow elects her own for many years only to bless them in the end. All will come right with you yet, Val." ”

“ It was Manannan, the son of Ler, who sang these quatrains to him.
To Bran in his coracle it seems
A marvellous beauty across the clear sea:
To me in my chariot from afar
It is a flowery plain on which he rides.
What is a clear sea
For the prowed skiff in which Bran is,
That to me in my chariot of two wheels
Is a delightful plain with a wealth of flowers.
Bran sees
A mass of waves beating across the clear sea:
I see myself in the Plain of Sports
Red-headed flowers that have no fault. ”

“ So in Bridgenorth to hold the castle de Lucy was left and the king stormed back to Shrewsbury.
YOU see him again in that room where the story began, Becket standing before him, grave and austere, Bran at his feet fondling him. "My brother, my brother, there are wounds on you."
"The fox snaps when you break him. It is nothing. Where is my true queen, Bran?"
"Nay, brother, I know not. The best of all is you are safe. Oh, give God thanks and be kind."
"Fool, fool," the king put a hand on the big head. "You would cry heaven in hell. Bid her come, my lord." ”

“ Bran was a cur, half silky and gracious Gordon setter, half woolly vulgarian of the Irish cottage breed, and to us, his comrades, a hero, an object of passionate faith, and, as such, the victim of many well-meant but excruciating honours. He wore, with docile consciousness of his absurdity, ornamental harness of strangling complications, and with it drew at a foot pace a grocer's box, mounted on wheels, while we walked before and after with fixed bayonets and all the gravity befitting a guard of honour operating in shrubberies teeming with banditti. ”

“ Then Bran juggled with knives, and the poor folk forgot themselves and began to shout and stamp, and then he began to act a little play by himself, being by turns an old woman and a monk, and the old woman's pig and her lazy husband, and picking out folks in the crowd for each to talk to. ”

“ A boy begins to need a father's influence, and Bran has always had a hunger for men and their ways ... but, oh! mind him well, Garrett Westenra ... mind him well ... give him back to me as sweet and whole in soul and body as I lend him to you--" Her voice broke. She could bear no more. Swiftly she rose, and with a little gesture full of despair and abnegation and farewell, left him. ”

“ It is a kind earth and has no magic save in men's fear."
"They say I have the evil eye," said the child solemnly.
Bran put out his hand and drew her down beside him. "Your eyes are like flowers, little one." And to himself he said: "God send they do not die as soon." And he caressed her. "There is a place in my heart for you. Na, na, but believe no evil they say of you. You are God's child."
"They say it hurts them when I look at them, and brings a murrain on their cows and their sheep. But I do not believe it. When the boys are not there the lambs love to come to me and the little calves. ”

“ Bran came down from his horse. "Yea, brother, yea," he grinned and shuffled in the beech mast, "all this is mine and the white chalk under that made my bones. Why are you unkind to me, brother?"
"You are a Frenchman and some French lord's hound."
"A hound, I! Hear him!" he barked grotesquely. "God mend your wits, brother. Do I look a hound?" and he showed off his ungainliness and grimaced and some of them began to grin. "Holy thorn, who are you that you call me French?"
"We be good Saxon folk and we want no Norman dogs to spy on us." ”

“ And while she sat there musing, out of the sacristy door came the Archbishop himself. He, too, seemed afflicted with gasps, for his mouth opened and closed and his breath came in little pants. None of his priests were with him, only the village curé escorting him to the presbytery, and he seemed somewhat like a child escaped for a moment from his nurses. When he saw Bran's smiling face his own lit up and its weariness was for an instant wiped away. ”

“ The fool heaved himself up painfully and stared round the room. “Is it real, brother? What should I eat? King Stephen in a pasty? What have you done, brother? The world is upside down.”
“I have fought with Stephen and he is a conquered king this night. Well, God is over all. His soul was weak in him. I came to him when he had heard his son was dead.”
Bran drank off his wine. “And how died he?”
“A strange tale. He met a fool who said there was a monk at his shoulder. And Eustace fell in a swoon, and is dead raving of a monk and his eyes.”
“Yea, yea,” Bran said. “That fool was I, brother.” ”