The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-02-14
Printed By specia, Arrangement nth The AathOr.
THE WINE FLOWER.
BY HENRY A. BEERS.
copyrighted 1855. by the Author-An Rights
Reserved

other They spring up where the turf is smooth
and thick and nibtled close by the sheep. No
tice their fesh-coored gills and the ruptured
edges of the white membrane that covers them,
as delicate as the softest undressed kidskin.
Smell their earthly fragrance. Break off this
stem and take a bite of it. It tastes like hick-
ory-nut without it's oil. These little fungi start
up in a single night, as if begotten of the dew
and the starlight. But we have heard of plants
that had an even quicker growth. There was
Jacks beanstalk, and Jonahs gourd, and the bios
soming pilgrim staff at Tannhauser. And will
tell you of flower that grew and withered as
suddenly as these, and which expressed
mystic purity by its snowy petals, though its
birth was not "of the womb of morning dew"
nor its conception of the glorious prince" but
the juices that fed it were of bloodred wine,
rich as the soil that lay in Isabellas pot of basil
Waerforth was Bishop of Worcester in the
reign of the great Alfred at whose request he
translated the Dialogues of Pope Gregory" into
English; though the book has never been put
into print but remains in handwriting in the ia
nous book house of Oxenford.
Waerforth was a good and learned man, but
he loved much sleep and worldly lore to talk
with his friends about a bright fire of ashen bill
let's. to hear the harp touched, and to drink the
wine which chapmen brought hither from the
kingdom of the Franks, because the wine berries
did not ripen well in English land. Waerforth
also loved well his wife, Angharad,
for, before the coming of the Nor
man, bishop and mass priest were not
ashamed of their manhood but took the comfort
and love of woman in holy wedlock. But the
naughty French prelates scorn the word of God
which says that bishop shall be the husband of
one wife, though they think it no sin to have
their paramour in secret-yes, and sometimes
openly and to the scandal of the church. Neither
would Waerforth shave his face like the woman.
ish ecclesiastics of these days. but let his yellow
beard cover his rosy cheeks. Angharad was a
Welsh woman, and by some she was accounted
sorceress. But think this was only by reason
OF her dark favor and of her shape which was so
long and slender that she looked like snake.
1t was hard to say whether her eyes were black
or than her eyebrows or her eyebrows blacker
than her hair, which was rolled and piled upon
her head in such masses that it seemed wonder
how her thin body could stand so upright
under the weight of it. And her tirewoman re-
ported that when she was unclothed and her hair
was loosened it would fall about her like cloak,
SO that from her bosom to her feet one might not
see an inch of her flesh. Withal she was an ex-
pert in starcraft, leechdom, and wort-cunnine
She knew tales of Cynon ap Clydno and his
love, Mowyth, the daughter of Urien; and of the
white-thorn bush in the forest Brooch allean,
where Merlin lies chained; and of the maiden
1,uUad With hap apcha cd haza1 nd che conc
these to our harp in marvellously clear high
and sweet voice, like wild swan singing among
the rushes of the river Usk, or upon the solitary
lakes of Snowdon. Howbeit, like all the women
Of the Bret, she was jealous and passionate and
sharp of tongue, and had great pride of
lineage. She could-and often did-recite all
the names in her pedigree for twenty genera
mtions, Back to q certain king of the tribe of
lani, who had beaten three Roman legions in
battle.
Howbeit the kinsmen of Waerforth took it
in snuff that he should have to wife a foreign
woman instead of choosing bride among his
own folk of Wessex and there was no love lost
between Angharad and them. But it happened
that distant kinsman, to whom the bishop had
been greatly beholden, died in the capital city of
Wfachester, and on his death bed he committed
his only child, girl of some seventeen years, to
the care of his cousin Waerforth. The orphan
had neither fee nor land and the bishop took
her under his protection and into his household.
The maid was well grown, and had eyes as blue
as the blossom of the flax, and her hair as yellow
as a cowslip Moreover, her ways were gentle
and her voice as soft as adoves, and she blushed
prettily when spoken to- So that the women of
Waerforth's blood said often to one another
ut is pity our brother did not get him
for wife some bonny Saxon wench like
Godgifu, instead of that black she warlock
who mutters Welsh charms to the embers
when we sit by her fire, and whom Wicglat, the
herd has thrice seen floating OH the Severn at
midnight in the likeness of a black cygnet."
These speeches were carried to the ears of Ang
harad, who forthwith conceived such hatred and
jealousy of her new inmate that she treated her
with the utmost harshness One day Waerforth
finding the poor maid in tears, drew from her.
much against her will, an acknowledgment of
Aneharads unkindness Thereupon he admon-
ished his wife angrily. saying: 1.-THE father of
Godgifu was my gossip and my blood friend,
who saved my life and got me favor with the
King While have a roof she shall have shell
ter, and while | have loaf she shall share it.
And do not you drive her from the house lest evil
befall it. and the curse Of God" Angharad an
swered nothing, but her sullen jealously waxed
daily, and every innocent kindness which her
lord showed to his young kinswoman added
proof to his wife's suspicious. At last
she made desperate resolve and betook herself
toa wise woman of the Cymry, who dwelt by
the sea. She found her on windy evening
standing by the edge of the waves on allow sand
spit She was clad in single robe of sea-water
green, and looking off over the ocean Her
q rope, the other end of which was tied to the
horns of monstrous bull, which plunged and
beloved furiously But such was the power of
the witch that, though she did not once vary her
easy attitude, or even seem to notice the crea-
tlre's violent struggles to free itself the rome
held. When Angharad had made known her err
rand, the sorceress, without turning to face her,
threw over her shoulder small phial made of
The tip of wild buffalos horn, filed with col
60 IS liquid. Angharad picked it up from the
sand where it had fallen, and kissing the
hem of the wise woman's robe. which was
blowing about in the wind, stole softly away.
That evening, in his low studded, oaken celled
hall. blackened by the smoke of torches, the
Bishop sat drinking his wine and listening to
his lady as she struck the harp and sang She
had made herself exceedingly fair, having put
on gown of yellow satin and shoes of varie-
gated leather clasped witRgolden bosses in the
shape of dragons. Ever and anon Waerforth
kissed her as he drank, and called for another
song and ever she sang wildly well At last