If local tradition might be accepted as a guide, we should find that
Arthur the King lived there once on a time. But surely another Arthur
than him of whom Tennyson sang. One,
"Not like that Arthur, who, with lance in rest,
From spur to plume a star of tournament,
Shot through the lists at Camelot, and charged
Before the eyes of ladies and of kings,"
but a being even more mythical than that Arthur to whom, with his
knights, legend assigns so many last resting-places--in that vast hall
beneath the triple peak of Eildon, here in a cavern below the rocks at
Sewingshields, and in many a spot besides. This Arthur of Sewingshields
in his feats was indeed more akin to the old Norse gods and heroes. And
it is told that, as he talked with his Queen one day when they sat on
those great rocks to the north of the castle, which still bear as names
the King's and the Queen's Crag, Guinevere chanced to let fall a remark
which angered Arthur; whereupon he, snatching up a rock that lay ready
to his hand, hurled it at his royal consort. Now, Guinevere at the
moment was combing her long, fair locks; but she saw the stone come
hurtling through the air, and, with remarkable presence of mind and
dexterity, with her comb she fended off the missile, so that it fell
between them, doing no harm.
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