Episode 175 – The Once and Future King

Episode 175 Show Notes

Source: Arthurian Legend

• This week on MYTH, we’re riding back to the court of the legendary King Arthur for the next part of his story. You’ll learn that rules are meaningless to the rich, that magic swords are awesome, and that Merlin always has the next plot hook. Then, in Gods and Monsters, Mr. Vinegar is going to learn a lesson in financial security. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 175, “The Once and Future King”.  As always, this episode is not safe for work.
• It’s time to head back to merry old England to catch up with the young King Arthur, who has drawn the sword from the stone (many times, in fact) and finally been crowned king, as is his birthright. This story picks up where Episode 160 left off. As always, we’ll be using Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur as the primary source for this tale, supplemented by the French Vulgate (also known as the Lancelot-Grail Cycle) which was likely written by multiple authors.
• Last time, Arthur, son of the old king Uther Pendragon who was hidden away from the world by the half-demon wizard Merlin, rose from his (relatively) humble station as squire to a hedge knight to become king. The great lords of the kingdom were not especially thrilled to be ruled over by someone who appeared to be of humble birth and so they tried to weasel out of the supernatural appointment of Arthur as king by the magical sword driven into the anvil and stone that had appeared in the churchyard. Magic is not so easily sidestepped however, and none of them could budge the sword so much as an inch even though Arthur was able to draw it forth and return it time and time again. Despite this, there was still a great deal of secret (and not-so-secret) grumbling about the lowborn king. 
• Shortly after officially being crowned Arthur had called for a council of lords and a great feast in the city of Carlion in Wales, once a fortified Roman town. A lot of important people and their retinues are listed as attending, but frankly it’s not super interesting or important to the story. Having stored up many of the jewels and other fine gifts he had received after his coronation, Arthur now handed them back out to the assembled lords and other mighty guests (as we mentioned last time). While this was all proper and correct according to custom (and not some shitty regifting of that candle you got at secret santa), the lords were offended all over again at being lorded over by a smooth-cheeked boy from damn near peasant stock. They refused King Arthur’s gifts as a show of defiance. With the refused gifts, they sent a clear message: we don’t want you as king, so leave now and never come back or we’ll cut off your head and take that crown ourselves. It’s a pretty brutal 180 from swearing in a church just days before that you accepted this young man as king.
• Arthur was nobody’s fool, so he withdrew from his own coronation feast and indeed from the central fortress of Carlion to avoid the long, hungry knives of his own theoretical subjects. He wasn’t nearly established enough as king to be able to stand against such bald-faced treason from such a large number of powerful men. For two weeks, the assembled lords feasted while the king that said feast was being held in honor of hid away in the surrounding city. The barons and mighty lords were pleased with themselves at pulling off what appeared to be a successful usurpation and so none of them drew steel on another to sort out which of them would take the throne next. There’s no telling how long this merry stalemate would have continued for if that old schemer Merlin hadn’t rolled into town. The cagey but well-respected wizard had been largely absent from public life since the death of King Uther a decade and a half ago, so his arrival into Carlion caused quite a stir. Given that Merlin made a great show of his arrival rather than entering in secret as he was totally capable of doing, he clearly intended to be noticed. 
• Also as intended, word of the wizard’s arrival soon reached the ears of the feasting barons, who were thrilled to hear that the strange, wild man was back. They sent word to him to come and speak with them, which he was all too happy to do. He was brought to the great hall that sat beside the River Thames and they chatted with him about the old days and what he had been up to. Talk soon turned to the new king who had been crowned by the archbishop who (according to their opinion) had done so without their consent or the approval of the common people. Merlin was asked his opinion. All knew the high opinion that the wizard had held the old king in, so they fully expected him to be as incensed at this outrage as they were. Of course, we already know that Merlin knows more than they do about Arthur and his heritage. “Well, since you asked so nicely gentlemen, in my opinion this new king is exactly the right person for the job. Indeed, he is higher-born than any of us assembled here. You see, this King Arthur is not, as you all suppose, the son of Antor or the brother or Kay, who he has named as his steward.” 
• That caught the barons by surprise. As it was meant to. “The fuck do you mean, he’s not Antor’s son? Seriously, Merlin – this news is even more troubling than the idea of a lowborn king. What the hell is going on here?” Merlin smiled with a devious twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I suppose I could tell you, but only if you call Arthur back here under the flag of truce. He deserves to hear this as well. Summon also Ulfin, who was councilor to King Uther, and Antor, who raised the young king from infancy. Once the gang’s all here, I’ll tell you the whole story, start to finish. It’s a wild one, boys, but I swear that every word will be true.”
• The barons were intrigued now. Merlin was ever a master at diplomacy and manipulation, and he had lost none of his finesse over the many years since he was last at court. “Alright, fine. You win, Merlin. Since you asked so nicely, we’ll meet with Arthur under the promise of truce. But who’s going to fetch him? I doubt he’s going to come along easily with one of us.” On Merlin’s advice, a man named Bretel was sent with the message, as well as a request to bring with him the archbishops of Brice and Logres (which was the land that had been granted to Arthur as his personal domain). The man had no problem finding King Arthur (who hadn’t been hiding so much as staying out of knife range) and relayed the message faithfully. For his part, the young king had no lack of bravery and so was perfectly willing to come and meet with the lords at their offer of peace. Having accomplished the first part of his task, Bretel then went and found Ulfin, who also agreed to come and hear what secret truths Merlin was promising to reveal. Everyone likes juicy gossip. Besides, Ulfin had always liked Merlin and was excited to catch up with his old friend.
• Once everyone was assembled, the men all sat down to listen, except for the Archbishop of Brice who tried to launch into a speech about pity and doing right by the kingdom. He was cut off almost immediately by the barons. “Look we’re all willing to hear your speech, which I’m sure is very holy and moving, but can it wait until after Merlin tells us why we’re all assembled here? He’s only given out unsettling hints so far, so you’ll have to forgive us if we’re more interested in what he has to say.” His holy feathers a bit ruffled, the archbishop sat down and agreed to yield the floor to the wizard. With a great deal of pomp and preening, he rose and made his way to the center of the hall. 
• “My lords, you all heard me say that our young king is higher born than any other man in this room. You also heard me plainly state that he is not, in fact, the son of Sir Antor nor is he the brother of Sir Kay. This, I repeat, is true. I can say with perfect certainty that Arthur is none other than the trueborn son and heir of King Uther Pendragon and Queen Igraine.” The wizard then related the story from back in Episode 139 about the old king going to Igraine magically disguised as her husband on the very night that said husband was slain in battle. He also told them about how his price for this service had been the promise of the child who would be sired with the duchess during that one-night tryst (and, you know, rape by fraud). “And to back this up, the king wrote a letter detailing his promise and sealed it with his own royal seal. Ulfin still bears this letter and he himself was witness to its signing and sealing all those years ago.
• “King Uther soon married Igraine and spoke with her about the child she was soon obviously pregnant with. She confirmed that the child had been conceived on the very night that her previous husband had died, despite that being impossible. Moved by her honesty and fealty, he loved her all the more for it. Still, he had made a promise and so he made her swear to turn the child over to the first man she saw on the steps of the great hall as soon as the boy was born. She did not wish to be at odds with her husband or to have her child be a wedge between them. As you may have already guessed, that man waiting for her was none other than myself. I took custody of the infant on the very night that he was born. I carried him in secret to Sir Antor, who I knew to be a worthy and trustworthy man. I instructed Antor to have this child nursed by his wife rather than his own six month old son, which he agreed to out of love for his king. That child was baptized as Arthur and raised as Antor’s own son.
• “And now there can be no doubt that God himself intends Arthur to be king. How else can you explain the appearance of the magical sword in the stone, a trial sent to prove the worthiness of Uther’s one true heir? And if my word isn’t enough to convince you all gentlemen, then perhaps the testimony of Antor and Ulfin, along with the letter signed by Uther himself, can do the trick.” Both men confirmed that every word of Merlin’s story was true to the best of their knowledge, and Ulfin produced the letter, seal still unbroken. The barons took this document and read it over many times, still struggling to come to terms with all of this shocking new information. It confirmed every word of Merlin’s story. Great lords never do much of anything without a gaggle of servants present, and so word of this magical tale soon leaked out to the common folk. All who heard it were moved to side with their new king as the one true ruler of Briton, and they pledged to stand with the clergy who had already sided with Arthur after the whole sword in the stone thing.
• The barons, on the other hand, were less than convinced. Merlin was known to be a sneaky schemer, so who was to say that this wasn’t just some cover cooked up after the fact? And even if it was true, why, that made Arthur a bastard! Surely they would never allow a boy who wasn’t even lawfully conceived to be the king and hold such a powerful domain as Logres. The archbishop was officially over their shit and told the lords in no uncertain terms that Arthur was king and would be king, so get the fuck over it already. He said it nicer than that of course, but that’s the gist of things.
• The clergy and the commoners stood together, united in their common cause to support their new and already beloved king. If the grasping barons were all so opposed to him, then he could only be a good king. Infuriated, the barons walked out en masse declaring to anyone who would listen that they did not accept Arthur as their king. Any bond between them, if there ever had been one, was now utterly shattered. Each headed out to their own lands, to their own keeps, and to their own armies. One and all, they began preparing for war.
• Arthur, no fool, did the same, summoning as many loyal soldiers as he could to his banners. In short order, he had amassed 7000 clerics and commoners to his cause, but very few knights (who were largely of the nobility and tied in one way or another to the great lords). Thus the few knights that Arthur did have were all poor men, hedge knights who had been granted horses and money by the king himself. These numbered about 350, few of them terribly well trained in the arts of mounted combat but all willing to die for their sovereign. As prepared as they were ever going to be, they left the keep and prepared to fight for their very lives in a very literal sense.
• The barons had come as well with their own assembled armies, a vast host which greatly outnumbered the humble ranks of the king’s forces. Under the snapping pennants of the barons rode 4,000 knights and far more well-trained squires, crossbowmen, footsoldiers, and servants. The lords gathered in a war council to discuss the plan. Some wondered aloud whether they could simply storm the castle and be done with it, but others thought that a foolhardy risk – they should lay siege and starve the false king out. “If we don’t go inside the castle and force the issue, none of those cowards will dare to come out here and face us with swords bared.”
• As they argued and blustered, Merlin wandered into their counsel. “My dear lords, what exactly are you trying to do here? Even if you succeed in ruining the king, you’ll lose far more than you’ll gain in the endeavor. You do remember that whole miracle with the sword and the stone, right? Are you honestly trying to deny that King Arthur has been chosen by God to be King of England? If you manage to slay him, each and every one of you will be brought to ruin and shame for going against the clear will of God as you yourselves have witnessed.” There was a moment of silence as the barons considered the wizard’s words before they all burst out into mocking laughter. “Ooh, is God gonna strike us down for killing a false king? Is that the best you got, wizard? I thought you were supposed to be good with words.” Merlin endured the abuse silently. As the barons quieted, he shrugged. “When judgment comes, remember that I tried to warn you.” 
• He went straight back to Arthur and informed him of what had happened. “But don’t worry, your highness. My warning to the barons was quite serious. I mean to help you hold your throne. Before the day is out, each and every one of those puffed up asses will wish that they were back in their own kingdoms stripped naked for all to see.” The king nodded his thanks, then summoned the wizard, the archbishop, Antor, Ulfin, Kay, and Bretel to a small council meeting. “Merlin, I have heard it said that you were a close friend of my father for much of his life. I beseech you to give me the same counsel that you gave him. What should I do about this revolt of the barons? It’s clear that they are in the wrong, but it is the common men who will pay the price for their mistakes. I’ll have to stand on my own two feet as king eventually, but this is basically my first day, so I could use a little hand-holding. I swear that, should I survive this with my throne intact, I will do all in my power to be worthy of it.”
• Merlin smiled calmly. “You needn’t worry about the commoners, for they will be in no danger today. I will help you and, once the barons are defeated and gone, you will need to keep me as your advisor and heed my words. I’m sure that you have heard of the Knights of the Round Table, which was assembled under your father. True, they have drifted away in the long years since his death since they saw how faithless and feckless the country was without its king. I have heard word that they are in the land of King Leodagan of Carmelide. He is an old man and a widower, his only child a daughter who will inherit his kingdom when he dies. King Leodagan is fighting a great and terrible war with King Rion of the Land of the Grasslands and the Giants, a place no man dares to dwell for fear of the many strange and terrible things that happen there. 
• “King Rion is very powerful, his kingdom wealthy in riches and people. He is skilled at the art of war and a ruthless man besides. Thus far, he has defeated and conquered 25 crowned kings. His defeated foes have all been slain, but not before he has had their beards ripped from their faces in a great bloody mess. These have been woven into a truly horrible coat that one of his knights holds out for him every time he holds court. Rion has sworn that he will not stop his bloody quest until he has 30 royal beards for his coat, and intends for Leodagan to be his next trophy. Why do I bring this up, seemingly apropos of nothing? Well, his kingdom neighbors your own and if he loses his head, then you shall surely lose yours soon thereafter. Leodagan wouldn’t have kept his lands and his crown this long if not for the valiant efforts of those Knights of the Round Table, who have been leading the war efforts on his behalf. 
• “My advice to you, my liege, is to go to King Leodagan and pledge yourself in service to him for a time. If you do well (and I have no doubts that you will), then he will wish to join his kingdom to yours by wedding his daughter to you. She is beautiful and young to match yourself, my king, but more importantly, she is one of the cleverest women in all the world. You would be hard-pressed to find a better wife to sit beside you. I can already see your objection forming on your lips, but you needn’t worry. Your kingdom will be in no danger of falling to the barons while you are gone. I can promise you that they’re going to have plenty to keep them too busy to cause any mischief. You will need to make sure that the main castles and fortresses in each of your cities are well-provisioned with food and arms before you go. To help keep the common folk on your side, the Archbishop of Brice will have any who do harm in your kingdom while you are gone excommunicated, including the barons. 
• “You’re about to see some really weird shit, Arthur. Once I get started, even the bravest of those arrayed against you will be utterly terrified. You can be sure that, whenever you should be in need of my services in the days to come, that you shall find it near at hand. You will want for nothing as you secure your kingdom. Get everything ready and then gather at the gates. When I cry ‘have at them’, that’s your signal to have the gates opened and lead a charge into the midst of the barons. With a little help from me, this will be enough to break them and send them scurrying away in complete and utter defeat. For now, at least.”
• Like I’ve said, Arthur is no fool. He didn’t really understand what Merlin was planning, but he recognized someone who wasn’t to be fucked with when he saw them. He was just glad that this mad wizard was on his side. “I thank you, my friend.” And so the meeting was disbanded. As promised, the archbishop climbed up on the walls and excommunicated all those outside the gates who sought to do harm to the true and lawful king, thus denying them entry to heaven after their death according to Catholic law. While this was going on, King Arthur gathered his small host and made sure everyone was armed and armored, ready for the coming charge. It seemed like suicide to many of those in his ranks, but they were ready to lay down their lives in service to king and country. Merlin gave Arthur a banner with a long dragon, which he affixed to a lance to carry with him. 
• This dragon banner was a wondrous thing made of brass. It seemed to almost be alive, breathing fire from its mouth, its long tail twisting behind it. Despite its great size, it was remarkably (one might say almost magically) light and easy to handle. No one ever knew where he had gotten it from nor was any ever able to duplicate it. Arthur gave it to his foster brother Kay, who had been named his seneschal, to carry into battle. It was a great honor, one that Kay would have in every battle from that day onward. The barons were unimpressed by excommunication (I’m assuming that they could always just have their own archbishops undo it when they got home). They sat in their pavilions set up in the meadow below the castle, a wide and beautiful vista. The whole thing seemed more like a picnic than a siege. You know, except for all the armed men. 
• Merlin climbed up into a tall tower overlooking the meadow and gathered his mighty magic to him. With a word and a gesture, the tents of the barons all burst into roaring flames. It caught everyone by complete surprise, driving them towards the middle of the meadow in a confused mass. Many people were terribly burned, and none were quite sure what had happened. Descending from the tower, Merlin called out ‘Sir, now! Have at them!” In response to the prepared signal, the gates were thrown wide and Arthur charged out of the castle at the head of his army. Lances lowered, shields held in place beside, they charged the confused mass of the revolting army. They were a smaller force than that of the assembled barons, but they were still a far larger force than anyone had thought was gathered inside the castle. Coupled with the confusion of the exploding tents, none were prepared to stand up to this unexpected charge. Many were killed before they even realized that they were under attack. The rest did their best to rally and defend themselves, but they were caught with their metaphorical pants down and they struggled. They fell beneath the shining lances of Arthur and his men, their blood staining the bright green grass beneath the shining brass of the rippling dragon. 
• The king’s foes were not utterly incompetent though, just surprised. The knights rallied to the barons and regrouped. They were dismayed at how many had already fallen but determined not to let this opportunity to capture the false king pass. Their shame would be deep if Arthur escaped them after such a bold charge into the heart of their army. King Neutres of Garlot vowed to free them all from the yoke of this so-called King Arthur quickly. If the pretender to the throne fell, the war would be over in short order. To be clear here, many of the barons are also referred to as kings of their small kingdoms, but subordinate to the high king of England. The other barons were all too happy to let King Neutres take point on the counterattack. “Sounds good, boss. You go do that; we’ll all be over here resting up if you need us. Good luck, bro!”
• To his credit, Neutres was willing to put his money where his mouth was. Drawing a stout, thick lance tipped in razor sharp iron, he rode directly for King Arthur to challenge him to single combat. He cut a dashing figure, tall and broad-shouldered, as he rode across the field. The young king saw this challenger approaching and, drawing his own ash lance with a steel tip, he reared his horse and charged out to meet the rebellious baron. Even the other gathered lords were amazed at how kingly the young Arthur looked. Don’t get me wrong, they still wanted him to lose but he certainly looked good doing it. 
• Both men were at a full gallop when they clashed, lances thundering with such force that both shields exploded into splinters. Neutres’ iron-tipped lance shattered as well, but Arthur’s stronger steel weapon stayed intact. He wheeled back around and drove his lance clean through the remains of his shield, pinning his arm to his side. The strike drove Neutres off his horse to land heavily in the dust, the sound echoing as he fell. Being an honorable man, Arthur didn’t follow up with a killing blow, though he easily could have. From the sidelines, King Lot of Orkney watched his fellow baron fall with anger and sorrow since he and Neutres were cousins and their wives were sisters. With a bellow, he reigned his horse around and charged at King Arthur, lowering his lance to attack. 
• The young king reset his own lance, still intact, and turned to meet this new foe. They met with another thunderous crash, both of their lances splintering to pieces. The story just said that Arthur’s shield splintered the last time, so I’m not sure what exactly he’s blocking Lot’s lance with but whatever. They galloped past so close to each other that their bodies crashed together. Arthur held his saddle better. Lot was stunned and knocked backwards off his horse and lay in the dust with his cousin. As if that was a signal, a cry rose up from both armies and they rushed to combat, Neutres’ and Lot’s men trying to rescue their fallen lords. Arthur’s men meanwhile raced to try and block both from reaching their victorious king. The slaughter began in earnest, and it was cover enough to allow the two fallen kings to climb back into their saddles unkilled.
• From his end of the field, King Arthur drew his sword, the one that had been pulled from the stone previously, which blazed with light as though a pair of candles burned within. In this version of the saga, letters glow on the sword to spell out its name: Excalibur. To be clear, this is not the Excalibur you’re thinking of – that comes later. Malory’s version confuses the issue by naming both of them Excalibur but they are still different swords. He also claims that the name is a Hebrew word that means ‘cuts through iron and steel and wood’, but it’s absolutely not. It more likely derives from a combination of the Welsh words caled, or hard, and bwlch, meaning ‘cleft’. The name is appropriate though. Arthur charged into battle and with a single great blow cleft an opposing knight in half. That’s not a figure of speech either – that poor bastard literally fell into two bloody hunks. What’s more, the sword drove through the dead knight and into the horse, cutting through the saddle and then through the horse, slicing it in half lengthwise as well. It’s an impossible, terrifying thing to witness and the knights around him understandably wondered just what the fuck they had gotten into. They didn’t have to wonder long because Arthur waded into the fray, laying about him on both sides with his holy sword. A gap soon opened up around the king since no one wanted to come to blows with a magic fucking sword.
• The six gathered kings watched all of this with great dismay. This attack was not going at all the way they had expected. Their army far outnumbered that of the young king, but they were very clearly losing right now. “Okay boys, game faces. We need to charge in there and take out that wannabe king now. If we can’t drop him before our armies break, we’re never going to dethrone him.” All six barons were in agreement, so they each took up a lance and charged. A tag team like this should have left Arthur a skewered carcass but maybe Merlin had dropped some magic on his armor because his hauberk was so strong that, according to the tale, not a single link of chainmail broke. Still the sheer momentum carried them over him, driving him and his horse to the ground in a tangled heap. 
• The would-be usurpers were not nearly as chivalrous as Arthur, so they were all-too prepared to slaughter their foe, valorous or not. Luckily, Kay, Bretel, Antor, Ulfin, and their kinsmen saw this happening and spurred their own horses to save their monarch. The six opposing kings rode out to meet them and block the way to Arthur. Or try to, anyway. Kay put a beating on King Aguisant of Scotland, driving his lance through his shield, his hauberk at the left shoulder, and clean through his body into the ground. The Scotsman was driven from his horse and crashed to earth, lance still impaling him. Kay then whirled on King Caradoc, catching him broadside with such force that the usurper was knocked from his saddle and tumbled ass over teakettle to the ground. While this was going on, Ulfin and King Neutres were locked in combat, equally matched. Both reared back at the same moment for what was essentially a charged attack and both were stunned by their foe’s blow. They collapsed together in a heap, horses crashing together atop the two men. King Yder and Bretel charged each other, both smashing their lances to splinters to no effect.
• This was all happening over the course of seconds, so Arthur still hadn’t managed to rise from his fall. Those barons who had not been intercepted made sure he stayed down by beating the ever-loving shit out of the fallen king. Kay, having already dispatched two great lords, saw this happening and grew even more furious. How DARE they strike his king, his brother, while he lay on the ground? Where was there honor? He charged into the fray, drawing his sword. King Lot didn’t know he was there until his helmet rang with Kay’s steel, stunning him. Kay swung at Lot over and over again until the rebellious king was so battered that he didn’t know who he was or what was happening to him. One more swing from Kay was enough to knock Lot unconscious to the ground. 
• Thanks to the valiant effort of Kay and the other knights, Arthur was raised back up to his feet so he could remount his horse. The high king’s riders had done an incredible job in their first mad charge, but they were still frightfully outnumbered and the element of surprise was no longer on their side. The tide could have turned against them had not a mass of common folk, armed with axes, cudgels, and even just stout sticks, marched out of the city to defend their king. With an earth-shaking battle cry, they charged into the melee, pulling as many of the enemy knights as they could reach out of their saddles. King Arthur had been chosen by God and was a clear force for change, so they would rather die in his defense than return to the status quo under the selfish barons. They asked no quarter and gave none. It was common practice in those days to take enemy leaders alive and return them for an expensive ransom, but the only price these commoners wanted was the heads of the six kings. 
• For his part, Arthur was enraged at the unchivalrous treatment he had received from his foes, especially after he had stayed his hand twice that very day. He charged ahead of the rest of his forces and crashed into the enemy army. The chaos of battle brought him to King Yder. Arthur struck a deadly blow, intending to cave in the man’s helmet but his horse moved unexpectedly and instead he beheaded Yder’s horse. It was unfortunate but nevertheless effective as the dead horse collapsed under his foe, taking the surprised king with it. Yder’s men saw their lord fall and rushed to defend him but met the full fury of Arthur. Excalibur was a whirlwind of death, and its wielder was soon covered in so much blood and gore that his armor seemed to be painted blood red from head to toe. None of the original paint could be seen beneath the viscera of the dead men Arthur had slain in his righteous fury. Even so, he was only one man and Yder’s men managed to get him back on his horse, and they all fled the field in defeat. Soon thereafter, the other five kings followed suit. The battle was done.
• The six rebellious kings had lost much in the conflict. Even aside from all of their men at arms who had been slaughtered, nearly all of their wealth had been destroyed. Most of their goods and food had been consumed by  Merlin’s flames, though they still had a hoard of gold and silver dishes, as well as coins. Despite the story initially saying they escaped with no more than two pence worth of goods, they’re not exactly destitute with that much literal treasure still in their possession. Arthur longed to follow the retreating army and continue to harry it, but Merlin counseled him to let them go. He had more important things to be doing right now. The six kings could wait.
• The day is won, but King Arthur still has plenty of problems left to deal with before he can truly claim to be high king of England. But for now, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s hapless husband is Mr. Vinegar.
• We’ve covered many tales with my favorite archetype – the trickster – but today we’ll be looking at that trope’s mirror image: the hapless fool. Once upon a time, Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar lived in a vinegar bottle. As far as I can tell, they’re two totally normal people living in an inexplicably oversized bottle. There’s no way to know if they are named the Vinegars because of where they live or if they decided to make a home in a very strange place because of their name. The story doesn’t care so I guess I don’t either. Anyway, on this particular day, Mr. Vinegar was away on whatever business someone like him gets up to. Mrs. Vinegar, who was a very diligent housewife, was busily tidying up her house and sweeping the glass floor. She got a bit overenthusiastic and her broomstick thumped into the wall. Either she was sweeping with just a ridiculous amount of force or she was unlucky enough to hit the bottle just wrong because it shattered their home. 
• Mrs. Vinegar was lucky enough to escape the collapse of literal jagged shards of glass all around her without a scratch, but it was hard for her to feel very lucky at the moment. Their home was gone. Weeping with grief, she raced away from the disaster to find her husband. “Oh Mr. Vinegar, Mr. Vinegar, we are ruined! I bumped our bottle home with my broom and somehow knocked the whole thing down. Our home is in shattered pieces! What are we going to do?” Mr. Vinegar did his best to comfort his wife. To his credit, he didn’t yell or curse or blame her for something that really isn’t her fault (all of which we’ve seen other folklore husbands do for far smaller things). “It’s going to be alright. Come, Mrs. Vinegar, let us go and see what can be done.” 
• They returned to where their vinegar bottle had stood and the disaster was every bit as bad as Mrs. Vinegar had said. He looked around in dismay, trying to find something he could salvage. “Ah ha, there is the door which is still perfectly intact. I will take it on my back and we will go and seek our fortune.” On the one hand, I applaud his can-do attitude to take charge of a really bad situation. On the other, he clearly has no real plan. It seems like there should be better ways to recover than to carry a door around waiting for inspiration to strike. 
• They walked all day and, by nightfall, they had entered a thick forest. The pair were very tired (and to be fair, they’d had a very long, very stressful day) but they didn’t think it wise to sleep on the ground out in the open. “Mrs. Vinegar, my love, I will climb up into that tree and drag up the door. Once I’m up safely, you follow the way that I have gone.” It’s probably wise to sleep in the tree, but I don’t know if they really needed to bring the door up with them. It apparently worked out though, and soon both were snoozing soundly on the door, which had been wedged between branches. Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 
• In the middle of that night, Mr. Vinegar was awoken suddenly by the sound of quiet voices from below. No honest business would be conducted in the middle of the forest in the dead of night, so he stayed as still and as quiet as he could. Sure enough, the men below were a band of thieves dividing up their ill-gotten booty. They sounded like murderous ruffians, and Mr. Vinegar was terrified that they would notice him and his wife. If they did, the thieves would have no choice but to slay them both to protect their dirty deeds. He trembled and shook with such force that the door slipped out of the branches and fell on the heads of the surprised thieves. They scampered away and didn’t return but Mr. Vinegar was still so terrified that he didn’t move until morning. Mrs. Vinegar, blissfully unaware, snoozed soundly the whole time, somehow not noticing the door literally falling out beneath her.
• When dawn finally broke and the thieves still hadn’t returned, Mr. Vinegar finally climbed down to check on the door (which was their only worldly possession, after all). As he lifted it up, he saw a glitter of gold beneath it. The shocked man nearly dropped the door again in his startlement, but he kept his grip as he stared. It was a scatter of golden guineas that had been left behind by the thieves when they fled. “Mrs. Vinegar, wake up and get your ass down here! Our fortune is made! Come down and see, my love!”
• Mrs. Vinegar scrambled down to see what her husband was yelling about. When she saw the money, she leapt for joy, dancing with her husband as she laughed and cried. “You were right, my husband! This money can buy us a very nice life. Here’s what you need to do – take these forty guineas to the fair at the nearby town and buy a cow. I can make butter and cheese from her milk, and we can live the rest of our lives in comfort from the profits.” Mr. Vinegar saw the plain sense in his wife’s plan and agreed to do just that. I don’t know why they decided to send him off on his own now when they were traveling together before. They still don’t have any home for her to stay in, but whatever. Mr. Vinegar goes off on his own.
• He arrived at the fair, walking up and down the stalls to look at the animals for sale. After a bit of wandering, he saw a beautiful red cow. He could tell that it was an excellent milker, perfect in every way. “If I owned that cow, I’d be the happiest man alive.” Jingling his coins, he offered all forty guineas for the cow to the owner, who he happened to know. “Okay, Mr. Vinegar. You’re a friend so I’ll let that cow go for forty.” They shook on it and the cow was his. He drove it back and forth across the fair to show off his gorgeous new cow. He really should be getting back to his wife with the cow, but he was enjoying showing off too much. 
• As he wandered, he came across a man playing bagpipes. The children followed this man around, dancing to his music. People kept tossing coins at him. He was clearly making money hand over fist. “What a beautiful instrument! If I owned that, I would be the happiest man alive! My fortune would be made!” Dude, you already have the cow. Walk away while you’re still ahead. Of course, he doesn’t because that wouldn’t be a very interesting story. Mr. Vinegar walked up to the bagpiper. “Friend, you are quite talented. And what a beautiful instrument! You must make a fortune with that thing.” The piper smiled, seeing an opportunity. “Of course, friend, I do indeed. Gobs of money. Hand over fist, as it were.” Mr. Vinegar stared at it, gold guineas in his eyes. “Man, I would love to own that bagpipe.” The piper made a show of considering. “Well I do love this thing and it does make me a bunch of money but you seem like a nice fellow. Since you’re my new friend, I’ll let you have them in exchange for that red cow.” “Done!” said Mr. Vinegar, thrilled with his continuing good fortune. And so the red cow was traded away for the bagpipes.
• Mr. Vinegar strutted up and down the streets of the village with pride. He tried his best to play a tune with his new bagpipes but it turns out that it wasn’t nearly as easy as it looked. Instead of music, his attempts sounded more like he was strangling a sick cat. No one threw him money. Children did follow in his footsteps, but only to jeer and insult his terrible, terrible playing. This wasn’t going on at all the way he’d expected. Mr. Vinegar was having some serious buyer’s remorse.
• Worse, his fingers were starting to freeze from his failed attempts. As he was trudging despondently out of town, he saw a man with a fine pair of thick gloves. They looked incredibly warm and comfy. “Oh, my hands are so very cold, and I am all around miserable. If only I had those lovely gloves, then I should be the happiest man alive.” He headed up to the man in the gloves. “Friend, I couldn’t help but admire your fine, beautiful gloves.” The man smiled. “Yes, they are very nice, aren’t they? It’s a cold November day, but my fingers are as warm as can be.” “Any chance you’d be willing to part with them? My hands are very cold and I could really use some gloves. I can offer you these bagpipes in exchange.” The man eyed the pipes, which he knew were worth considerably more than his gloves. He could always get another pair. “Deal, my new friend. The gloves for the bagpipes.” They shook on it and the deal was struck.
• Mr. Vinegar put on the gloves and started for home. His hands were much more comfortable now and the children were no longer following him around yelling insults. He was perfectly content. It was a long walk back to the forest where Mrs. Vinegar was waiting, and he had been on his feet all day making deals. And he hadn’t exactly slept well the night before, so he was exhausted. He soon came across a man walking the other way with a stout walking stick. It was helping him make the journey over the uneven ground much more easily, and Mr. Vinegar was quite jealous. “What I wouldn’t give to have that fine walking stick about now. I would be the happiest man alive!” Mr. Vinegar walked up to his fellow traveler. “Hey there, friend! That’s one hell of a walking stick you have there.” The man smiled, looking down at it. “It is, isn’t it? It’s been my companion on many a long mile and it has been quite a good friend. Still, if you’ve taken a fancy to it, I’d be happy to trade it to you for those lovely gloves you have on.” Mr. Vinegar thought about it. The gloves were very nice, but his hands were quite warm now while his legs were extremely tired. “Deal,” he said, and they shook on it.
• It wasn’t too much farther until Mr. Vinegar came back to the woods where his wife was waiting. Up until now, everything except the bottle has more or less made sense. Now there was inexplicably a very talkative parrot waiting in the trees of this English forest in the chill of late fall. No explanation offered. Even weirder, it apparently knew about his whole series of trades and had decided to amuse itself by taunting him about them. It honestly makes more sense to me if it’s a fairy than an actual parrot, but there’s no evidence for that. 
• Anyway, the parrot laughed at Mr. Vinegar as he walked into the forest. “You’re a nincompoop, Mr. Vinegar! A jackass! A real sorry sonuvabitch! You went to the fair with a very simple plan from your much smarter and sexier wife (who’s out of your league) and spent all your money on a cow. But you traded the cow, which had been a good deal, on bagpipes you didn’t know how to play, which weren’t even worth a tenth of the money you spent. That wasn’t enough and so you traded the pipes for a pair of gloves, which were only worth a quarter of what you traded them for. And even that wasn’t enough! You traded those gloves for a fucking stick! Instead of forty guineas, bagpipes, or even gloves, all you have is a goddamned stick that you could have found in any hedge along the road.” 
• And the bird laughed and laughed at Mr. Vinegar, who hadn’t really stopped to think about how bad his series of trades had been. He was furious at himself, but he didn’t want to think about that so he decided to be mad at the parrot instead. “Fuck you, you mouthy bird-brain!” And he hurled the stick into the trees where the bird sat. It missed the parrot, but it got caught in the branches and stuck there. So now, Mr. Vinegar had literally nothing to show for his forty guineas. He returned to his wife and tried to explain what had happened. She was understandably furious with him for his terrible financial instincts. She yelled at him, which was fair, and she beat him with a stick she found on the ground so badly that she broke almost every bone in his body, which was…not. It doesn’t say she killed him, but I have to imagine that it’s going to be hard to come back from that many shattered bones, especially with medieval medicine. Things rarely end well for the overconfident fool, whose tale stands as a warning against making the same kinds of terrible, terrible decisions he does. So don’t be like Mr. Vinegar (who totally would have bought into crypto currency or MLMs if he were alive today).
• That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated.  Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Instagram as MythsYourTeacherHatedPod, on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated, and on Bluesky as MythsPodcast.  You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line.  I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated.  The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff. 
• Next time, we’re heading to France for a tale of a knight who can talk to vaginas. No, really, that’s his magic power. You’ll see that talking vaginas are always honest, that you shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, and that you should never forget about the asshole. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a young woman will get into a fight with her own talking vagina and come up with a very unorthodox solution to her disagreement. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.