I'm trying to keep my posts short during this challenge but today I want to share with you Polish legend that is very close to my heart. I think that it takes place over 1200 years ago. My hero Lech was killed in the battle in 805. Gniezno was the very first capitol of Poland. Enjoy!
Many, many years ago, even many centuries
ago, there lived in Polish lands a Duke named Lech. It was long,
long ago, and some say
it was even before the time of Alexander the Great. Be that as it may,
in the land of Poland there was yet no town of Warsaw, nor of Krakow, nor were there any large cities in Greater Poland. The country
was wild,
with few people; men lived together in small communities, greatly fearing
the savage Goths who invaded them from the west and the wild Huns who
came in from the east. Death and desolation came in the wake of these
invaders,
and the peaceful, agricultural Slavs were obliged to become warriors,
that they might defend their homes and families from destruction.
Lech was the first Duke of Poland. He it was who first established a
Dukedom on the soil of Poland and assumed the leadership of the western
Slavs.
He united the tribes, and from the time of his reign, Poland developed
and grew prosperous. Better strongholds were built to resist the raids
of the savage neighbors, the fields were tilled and hides were cured,
and with the arrival of more settled times, men grew more civilized
and turned to the making of pottery, agricultural implements and furniture,
the pattern and style of which has changed but little, and even today
utensils
can be seen in use, very similar to those which were used in the time
of Lech.
In order to ensure the defense of his country against invasion, Lech kept
a strong army. The army was well equipped, well trained and vast. It covered
itself with glory and indeed the name of Lech, its captain, became so famous
throughout the world, that his fiefs were called Lechici, and the Muscovites
often called the Poles Lachi, and the Turks named Poland Lechistan, or
the country of Lech. His power stretched over so wide an area of country
that the Hungarian Lengyel also almost certainly comes from Lech.
The Duke was in every way an outstanding man. He was very tall and broad
shouldered, and such was his strength that he could wield a battle
axe which ordinarily took two men to lift. He was handsome, with fair
hair, blue
eyes and well defined, aquiline features. Not only was he a fearless
warrior, he was also a wise ruler and, unlike most men of his stamp,
had a taste
for learning. He had this in common with most princes: he loved hunting,
and his leisure was generally devoted to the sport. As in battle, be
led the field, and always claimed the first stroke at bear or boar, when
the
beast was brought to bay. He had a true, brave heart and valued courage
in another, be it man or beast.
Lech also loved falconry, and had many goshawks and peregrine falcons,
some of which he had trained himself. He had tried to train a young buzzard,
but the bird, after giving great promise, had died. The Duke had expressed
the wish to train an eagle, and though his falconers had advised him that
it was impossible, he still persisted in hoping that he might capture and
train a young golden eagle, for he thought that it would be swifter and
stronger, in the flight after its quarry, than any goshawk.
One fine spring day, the Duke and his court went hawking. A goodly company
set forth from the castle, each one mounted and each dressed in the
green hunting habit which Lech had commanded should be worn by all those
who joined the chase with him. The Duke rode at the head of the cavalcade,
with his favorite
hawk on his wrist, closely followed by his Master of the Hunt. He seemed
to be in thoughtful moods, and paid little heed to the conversation
which was taking place around him. Then, without preamble, he gave
his bird
to the Master of the Hunt, saying curtly, "I would be alone," and,
setting spurs to his horse, he galloped off. His company was surprised
and troubled,
but no man attempted to follow the Duke, for sometimes he was given
to strange moods and at such times it was better not to approach him.
Lech urged his steed forward, he knew not why, but feeling an irresistible
desire to reach a hill which he espied in the distance. After galloping
a while he reached it, and, reining in his steed, looked around him. At
first he could discern nothing, but soon, he perceived a nest, perched
on a rocky crag. It was the nest of a white eagle, who sat with her young
around her. She was a noble bird, with curved beak and powerful talons,
and wings to bear her aloft in strong and graceful flight. This was the
eagle that Lech had dreamed to possess; this was the bird which would make
falconry a delight, which would rouse the envy of every prince in Europe
and beyond. He resolved to capture one of the young, take it home to his
castle, and train it with all the care and skill at his command. What a
rare prize this would be! What pleasure lay in store for him if he could
but obtain one of those eaglets!
He leapt from his horse and climbed towards the nest. The white eagle watched
him intently, while her fledgelings, surprised by the approach of a stranger,
crept under her wings. Lech shouted and waved his arms, thinking to frighten
the bird from her nest, but she stirred not. The Duke came nearer and put
forth his hand, and the eagle, with a swift movement, pecked at him as
though in warning. But Lech heeded her not. Reaching for his dagger, he
held it aloft, so that the bird must wound herself if she approached him
too near. With his other hand, he again attempted to grasp one of the eaglets,
but the mother bird was upon him once more and this time, neither prince
nor bird escaped unscathed. Lech persisted; he ardently longed for one
of the eaglets and was loath to abandon a prize which he thought he could
capture with ease. The struggle continued. Lech, using his dagger more
freely, was making desperate attempts to approach the nest. But he was
beaten off by the sharp beak and powerful wings of the mother. The eagle
had been wounded several times, and blood was staining the white feathers
with dark, crimson splashes. She defended her nest and her freedom and
the liberty of her little ones. The Duke's brave heart was
touched by this unyielding defense and by this noble courage, and the sight
of the blood which trickled down the bird's white breast made him ashamed
of his desire to deprive of its freedom the offspring of so valiant a mother.
He turned away abruptly, and descended the hill, deep in thought. A brave
bird, who spill her blood for her freedom and for that of her eaglets!
Then Lech sat down at the foot of the hill and looked at the scene before
him. As far as his eye could reach stretched the fair lands of Poland,
his country that he loved with all his heart. Would he not defend her,
just as the eagle had defended her nest? And the thought came to him: let
that brave, white eagle become the badge of Poland; let her be the token
of freedom for which all those worthy of the name of Pole should shed their
blood, and the eagle's blood be the symbol of bravery. Poland is immortal;
so shall the White Eagle be immortal. Thus, to this day, on the shield
and banner of Poland, is blazoned the white eagle on a crimson field.
And the place was pleasing to the Prince. He loved that hill where
he had found the eagle's nest and which still bears his name. He took
his counselors
to the spot and showed it to them, saying, "Let us build our nests
here, as do the eagles." So a castle was built, and then a city, and
it was called "Gniezno," which in the Polish of those days, meant "nest." And
in those far off times Gniezno became a fair city, and was the capital
of Lech's Dukedom, lying on the hillside which bears his name.
The White Eagle has always been on the banners of Poland and when, as has
occurred many times, Poland has been attacked, her sons have defended her
no less bravely than the eagle who long ago shed her blood in the defense
of freedom.
The whole month just flew by and here we are at the last day of the challenge. If you were following my daily posts you know me pretty well by now and I'm sure isn't a surprise to you that my last hero is the handsome, agile athlete and acrobat that swings between rooftops master of the sword and a fantastic horseman. He defends people of the land against tyrannical officials and other villains. He is impossible to catch and he loves to publicly humiliate authorities for their wrong doing. He is Zorro!
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