Every October, our
blog presents a series of tales and related poems. With the advent of the
Keltik New Year on November 1, we begin our month of tales with the story of
Brutus the Trojan, the first King of Britain (fl. ca. 1100 BCE), along with
some delightful poems by our talented writing staff about the month of October.
Enjoy! 😊
“The present moment is a gift, wrapped in the mystery
of time and the promise of discovery.”
à Kammy Opalstein, Staff
Writer
“The Magical Month of October”
By Marsha Bradley, Staff Writer
October, oh magical month,
A time of change, a time of beauty.
Leaves turn golden, crisp and bright,
As Nature prepares to say goodnight.
The days grow shorter, nights grow long,
And the air whispers a chilly song.
Pumpkin patches and falling leaves,
Autumn magic in every crevice.
The Hunter’s Moon lights the night,
And the season begins to shift.
October, you steal our hearts,
With your enchanting charm from the start!
“Symbol of Hope and Promise”
By Sammi Harrison, Staff Writer
The colors of the rainbow, a sign of pride,
Unity and diversity, a shining guide.
No matter who we are or where we hail,
We're all united in the promise of this trail.
A spectrum of colors, a promise of love,
Inclusion and understanding, a promise from above.
“The Joy of Storytelling”
By Gwen Morgen, Staff Writer
Tales untold, waiting to unfold,
Woven like tapestries, threads of gold.
From history's pages, words take flight,
Painting pictures, colors, and light.
Each story a dance, a soul's delight,
Through language, a world comes alive.
So let the words flow, and poetry soar,
Capturing moments, forevermore.
“A Tribute to Brutus the Trojan”
By Regan Elfstan, Staff Writer
Brutus the
Trojan, King of Britain,
Came to this
isle, from which he took his name.
Abandoning
his homeland of Troy,
He journeyed
to a distant shore, for fame.
Though his
home was lost, and his kingdom lay in waste,
Yet he built
a new kingdom, a nation great.
He gave his
name to this island, a place of majesty,
And his name
has lived on, in history.
Thus, Brutus
the Trojan, King of Britain,
Is a hero of
legend, whose name we chant.
His memory
shall live on, in glorious song,
Until the
end of time, and longer than that.
Regan, the author of the above
poem, is pictured here at Tintagel Castle in Cornwall, SW England. Tintagel
Castle is the traditional birthplace of King Arthur; it may have been a coastal
fortress in Roman times. (Image Credit: Processed by the Editor.)
Excerpt from The Age of Chivalry
Chapter 2: “The Mythical History
of England”
By Thomas Bulfinch (1796-1867)
The
illustrious poet, Milton, in his History of England, is the author whom we chiefly follow in this chapter.
According
to the earliest accounts, Albion, a giant, and son of Neptune, a contemporary
of Hercules, ruled over the island, to which he gave his name. Presuming to
oppose the progress of Hercules in his western march, he was slain by him.
Another
story is that Histion, the son of Japhet, the son of Noah, had four sons,
Francus, Romanus, Alemannus, and Britto, from whom descended the French, Roman,
German, and British people.
Rejecting
these and other like stories, Milton gives more regard to the story of Brutus,
the Trojan, which, he says, is supported by "descents of ancestry long continued,
laws and exploits not plainly seeming to be borrowed or devised, which on the
common belief have wrought no small impression; defended by many, denied
utterly by few." The principal authority is Geoffrey of Monmouth, whose
history, written in the twelfth century, purports to be a translation of a
history of Britain brought over from the opposite shore of France, which, under
the name of Brittany, was chiefly peopled by natives of Britain who, from time
to time, emigrated thither, driven from their own country by the inroads of the
Picts and Scots. According to this authority, Brutus was the son of Silvius,
and he of Ascanius, the son of Aeneas, whose flight from Troy and settlement in
Italy are narrated in Stories of Gods and
Heroes.
Brutus,
at the age of fifteen, attending his father to the chase, unfortunately killed
him with an arrow. Banished therefor by his kindred, he sought refuge in that
part of Greece where Helenus, with a band of Trojan exiles, had become
established. But Helenus was now dead and the descendants of the Trojans were
oppressed by Pandrasus, the king of the country. Brutus, being kindly received
among them, so throve in virtue and in arms as to win the regard of all the
eminent of the land above all others of his age. In consequence of this the
Trojans not only began to hope, but secretly to persuade him to lead them the
way to liberty. To encourage them, they had the promise of help from Assaracus,
a noble Greek youth, whose mother was a Trojan. He had suffered wrong at the
hands of the king, and for that reason the more willingly cast in his lost with
the Trojan exiles.
Choosing
a fit opportunity, Brutus with his countrymen withdrew to the woods and hills,
as the safest place from which to expostulate, and sent this message to
Pandrasus: "That the Trojans, holding it unworthy of their ancestors to
serve in a foreign land, had retreated to the woods, choosing rather a savage
life than a slavish one. If that displeased him, then, with his leave, they
would depart to some other country." Pandrasus, not expecting so bold a
message from the sons of captives, went in pursuit of them, with such forces as
he could gather, and met them on the banks of the Achelous, where Brutus got
the advantage, and took the king captive. The result was, that the terms
demanded by the Trojans were granted; the king gave his daughter Imogen in marriage
to Brutus, and furnished shipping, money, and fit provision for them all to
depart from the land.
The
marriage being solemnized, and shipping from all parts got together, the
Trojans, in a fleet of no less than three hundred and twenty sail, betook
themselves to the sea. On the third day they arrived at a certain island, which
they found destitute of inhabitants, though there were appearances of former
habitation, and among the ruins a temple of Diana. Brutus, here performing
sacrifice at the shrine of the goddess, invoked an oracle for his guidance, in
these lines:
"Goddess of shades, and
huntress, who at will
Walk'st on the rolling sphere, and
through the deep;
On thy third realm, the earth,
look now, and tell
What land, what seat of rest, thou
bidd'st me seek;
What certain seat where I may
worship thee
For aye, with temples vowed and
virgin choirs."
To whom, sleeping before the altar, Diana in a vision thus
answered:
"Brutus! far to the west, in
the ocean wide,
Beyond the realm of Gaul, a land
there lies,
Seagirt it lies, where giants
dwelt of old;
Now, void, it fits thy people:
thither bend
Thy course; there shalt thou find
a lasting seat;
There to thy sons another Troy
shall rise,
And kings be born of thee, whose
dreaded might
Shall awe the world, and conquer
nations bold"
Brutus,
guided now, as he thought, by divine direction, sped his course towards the
west, and, arriving at a place on the Tyrrhene sea, found there the descendants
of certain Trojans who, with Antenor, came into Italy, of whom Corineus was the
chief. These joined company, and the ships pursued their way till they arrived
at the mouth of the river Loire, in France, where the expedition landed, with a
view to a settlement, but were so rudely assaulted by the inhabitants that they
put to sea again, and arrived at a part of the coast of Britain, now called
Devonshire, where Brutus felt convinced that he had found the promised end of
his voyage, landed his colony, and took possession.
The
island, not yet Britain, but Albion, was in a manner desert and inhospitable,
occupied only by a remnant of the giant race whose excessive force and tyranny
had destroyed the others. The Trojans encountered these and extirpated them,
Corineus, in particular, signalizing himself by his exploits against them; from
whom Cornwall takes its name, for that region fell to his lot, and there the
hugest giants dwelt, lurking in rocks and caves, till Corineus rid the land of
them.
Brutus
built his capital city, and called it Trojanova (New Troy), changed in time to
Trinovantus, now London;
"For noble Britons sprong
from Trojans bold,
And Troynovant was built of old
Troy's ashes cold.”
-- Edmund SPENSER: The Faerie Queen, Book III, Canto IX, Line 38
and, having governed the isle twenty-four years, died,
leaving three sons, Locrine, Albanact and Camber. Locrine had the middle part,
Camber the west, called Cambria from him, and Albanact Albania, now Scotland.
·
Historia
Brittonum (History of the Britons) by Nennius (828 CE)
·
Historia
Regum Britanniae (History of the Kings of Britain) by Geoffrey of Monmouth (1136 CE)
·
Roman
de Brut by Wace
(ca. 1155 CE)
·
Brut by Layamon (ca. 1190-1215 CE)
·
Brutus
the Trojan, Founder of the British Empire: An Epic Poem by Hildebrand Jacob (1735 CE)
“The Elf in the Forest Glade”
By Ravenna Kolbitar, Staff Writer
In the forest's embrace we met
Two minds so wise, two souls so bright
He led me through the secret glade
Beyond all mortal cares & sight
He spoke to me 'bout trees & weeds
The plants & flowers that make us glad
And as the sun was sinking low
We spoke in hushed & whispered tones
Of things that only he & I
And the stars of heaven could see
But all too soon 'twas time to part
With a promise to meet again
In the enchanted forest dell.
