Ghostly Folklore - The Herlathingi. Army of the Dead.
The army of the dead rides forth…
The Welsh Marches are an area in the United Kingdom between England and Wales, particularly the counties of Shropshire and Herefordshire. In medieval Europe, the term Marches or Mark was used to describe any borderland. It could be a dangerous place to live, as raids and skirmishes were not uncommon.
In England, the King appointed Marcher Lords to guard the borders between the two countries. These men were given a greater degree of independence and had very specific rights, allowing them to better handle the dangers they faced.
The following tale ends in this oft-troubled region. It is a tale of a strange goblin lord, and an army of the dead.
King Herla was a mythical ruler of Britain. One day, he met a red-bearded dwarf with hooves for feet, mounted on a goat. The little fellow told King Herla that he too is a king, and the two make a pact: the dwarf will attend King Herla’s wedding, if he in turn will then visit the kingdom of the dwarf and be present for his.
The dwarf king is true to his word and attends Herla’s marriage, bringing with him a great host and many fine gifts.
One year later, the dwarf king dispatches a messenger requesting that King Herla be present for his nuptials. So, gathering his entourage about him, the King rides forth. He comes to a cave and, upon entering, finds himself in an underground realm illuminated with strange lamps.
The fairy wedding lasts for three whole days, and when finally King Herla prepares to ride forth, his diminutive host approaches him and offers him a gift: a small hound, which sits on King Herla’s lap.
Twelfth-century Latin author Walter Map delivers the remainder of this tragic tale in the book De Nugis Curialium:
When Herla and his band return to the human realm, they encounter an elderly shepherd, whom Herla asks for news of his queen. The old man, astonished, replies, “I can barely understand your speech, for I am a Saxon and you are a Briton.” The elderly shepherd describes a legend of a very ancient queen of the Britons bearing that name mentioned - she was the wife of King Herla who was said to have disappeared with a dwarf king into that very cliff and was never seen again. The shepherd also adds that the Saxons had been in possession of the kingdom for the last two hundred years and had driven out the native Britons.
Herla, who thought he had been away for just three days, is so amazed he can barely stay in the saddle. Some of his men jump down from their horses, only to crumble quickly into dust. Herla warned his remaining companions not to dismount, so they ride on, eventually becoming a ghostly host called The Herlathingi, doomed to ride for all eternity. It is believed by some that this spectral war band eventually rode into the River Wye in Hereford during the reign of King Henry II, never to be seen again.
You are forced to imagine the horror that must have gripped the minds of the poor local medieval peasantry at the idea that a sombre host of undead warriors might make its silent way past them, as they wandered England’s byways on some nocturnal errand.
The Herlathingi have also been linked with The Wild Hunt, which is usually associated with the god Woden in his guise as leader of the Germanic Wild Hunt. The name Herlathingi is thought to be related to the French Harlequin (a variant form of Harlequin, Hellequin), the leader of the Wild Hunt in Old French tradition.
Thank you for taking the time to read this blog, my friend. I hope you are keeping well.
Until next time, stay spooky.
