vTc/^ 
 
LEGENDS 
 
 OF 
 
 LOVE AND CHIVALRY, 
 
 of 
 
THE 
 
 CHEVALIERS OF FEANCE 
 
 FROM 
 
 THE CRUSADERS TO THE MARECHALS OF LOUIS XIV, 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, 
 
 AUTHOR OP "THE CAVALIERS OF ENGLAND" " THE KNIGHTS OF ENGLAND, FRANCE, 
 
 AND SCOTLAND" " THE PURITANS OF NEW ENGLAND" "MARJWADUKE WYVIL," ETC. 
 
 EEDFIELD, 
 
 110 AND 112 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. 
 1853. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, 
 
 BY J. S. REDF1ELD, 
 
 in the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
 STEREOTYPED BY C. C. SAVAGE, 
 
 13 Chambers Street, N. Y. 
 
ps n 
 
 CM 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 SIR HUGDES DE COUCY : A CHIVALRIC LEGEND OF THE Low 
 
 COUNTRIES - 7 
 
 EUSTACHE DE ST. PlERRE, OR THE SURRENDER OF PARIS 107 
 
 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC : A SUPERSTITIOUS 
 
 LEGEND OF THE ENGLISH WARS IN FRANCE 115 
 
 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH, OR THE MASSACRE OF ST. 
 
 BARTHOLOMEW: A DARK SCENE IN PARIS 247 
 
 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG, OR THE REED-SHAKEN- 
 
 BY-THE-WlND . 309 
 
 $529853 
 
SIR HUGUES DE COUCY ; 
 
 a (Ctynuilrir J*gwft nf tjp Jtm 
 
 1200. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ROUTIER. 
 
 IT wanted an hour or two perhaps of sunset, on a lowering 
 September evening, when a small group of men and horses 
 were assembled on an elevated knoll, commanding an exten 
 sive view of the country, which at that period was mostly cov 
 ered by unbroken forest ; although a large and seemingly much- 
 travelled road could be seen at intervals, for a distance of 
 many miles, with here and there the dark square outlines of a 
 church-tower, or of some castellated mansion, distinctly visible 
 above the trees, among which the causeway wandered devious. 
 All else was wild and savage. The huge beech forest, a por 
 tion of the great wood of Ardennes, which, little circumscribed 
 in that day of its limits as described by the great Roman, 
 swept off in solid masses to the eastward, to join beyond the 
 Rhine the vaster solitudes of the Hercynian forest clothed 
 every hill and hollow for many a league around with dense 
 and shadowy woodland. Except the line of road, and the 
 
8 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 scattered buildings, and here and there a wreath of smoke 
 curling up blue and ghostly in the distance, above some sylvan 
 hamlet or small borough town, nothing could be discovered 
 even to the misty, ill-defined horizon, but one vast sea of wav 
 ing branches, now tinged with the first solemn tints of autumn. 
 The knoll, which had been occupied by the party grouped 
 around its summit as a post of observation, was admirably 
 adapted for that purpose ; rising abruptly from the top of a gen 
 tle hill, to the height of at least two hundred feet, and being 
 the only elevation of the kind for many a league of distance. 
 The top of it was bare, and covered with thin grass sprouting 
 up scantily from the crevices of the sandstone rock which 
 composed it, but the sides were well clothed with luxuriant 
 coppice, high enough to conceal the head of the tallest man, 
 and very intricate and tangled. Immediately around its base 
 the high-road wheeled, after ascending the gentle slope on the 
 eastern side, and was soon lost to view in a deep-wooded val 
 ley to the westward. 
 
 The group which occupied this station consisted of four 
 armed men with their horses ; beside a monk, as he appeared 
 from his gray frock and tonsured head, mounted upon a sleek, 
 well-favored mule. The principal personage of the party was 
 one well meriting from his appearance, for it was singular in 
 the extreme, a brief description. He was above six feet in 
 height, and gaunt almost to meagerness, but with extremely 
 broad, square shoulders, and arms of disproportionate length 
 terminating in huge, bony hands. His face was even more re 
 markable than his person, and his accoutrements, and dress 
 perhaps exceeded both. He had a very high but narrow fore 
 head, ploughed deeply by the lines of fierce and fiery passions. 
 His deep set eye (for he had but one, the left having been 
 utterly destroyed by a wound, the scar of which severing the 
 eyebrow near the insertion of the nose, seamed his whole 
 
THE ROUGE BATARD. 9 
 
 cheek, and might be traced by a white line far through the 
 thick and matted beard which clothed his chin jaw), gleamed 
 out with a sinister and lurid glare from beneath his shaggy, 
 overhanging brow. His nose had been originally of the keenest 
 aquiline, high, thin, and well shaped ; but its bridge had been 
 broken years before by a cross-cut which had completely sev 
 ered it, and which, though skilfully healed, had left a strange 
 and disfiguring depression. His mouth, as far as could be 
 judged from the vast crop of mustache and beard which cov 
 ered all the lower half of his countenance with a tangled mass 
 of red, grizzled hair, was well cut, bold, and decided, but the 
 whole aspect of the man was strangely repulsive and disgust 
 ing. There was an air of reckless and undaunted courage, it 
 is true, stamped on his scarred and weather-beaten features ; 
 but it was their sole redeeming trait, and it, too, was so mixed 
 up and blended with effrontery, and pride, and cruelty, and 
 brute licentiousness, that it was lost and obscured, except when 
 it would flash out at rare intervals in time of deadly peril, and 
 banish for a moment by its brightness the clouds of baser pas 
 sions. His dress had been in the first instance, a splended suit 
 of complete tilting armor of the most ponderous description ; 
 but many parts of it had been lost or broken, and replaced by 
 others of inferior quality and construction. Thus while he 
 still retained the corslet and plastron with the gorget and vant 
 braces of fluted Milan steel, painted to suit the caprice of the 
 wearer, of a deep blood-red, his cuishes, and the splents which 
 protected his leg from the knee downward, were of plain Flem 
 ish iron, once brightly polished, but now sordid and defaced 
 with rust, and recent blood-stains. His head was covered 
 by a heavy casque, with cerveilliere and avantaille of steel, of 
 a different construction from his breastplate, but like it lac 
 quered with dark crimson, and throwing a dreadful and unnat 
 ural reflection from its raised visor over a face which needed 
 1* 
 
10 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 no additions to render it in the last degree appalling. He had 
 an iron chain across his shoulders instead of a baldric, to which 
 was attached a long two-edged straight broad-sword. The 
 belt about his waist was filled with knives and daggers of every 
 shape and size ; and pitched into the ground beside his horse, 
 a powerful and active charger, with a steel demipique and an 
 axe slung at the saddlebow, but unencumbered by defensive 
 armor, stood his long lance with its steel head and crimson 
 pennon. He had gauntlets on his hands, and spurs upon his 
 heels, but they were not the gilded spurs of knighthood, nor 
 was there any plume or crest on his burgonet, nor any bearings 
 on the plain, blood-red shield which hung about his neck. 
 The other three armed persons, who stood at little way aloof, 
 were ordinary men-at-arms of the period, ruffianly-looking fel 
 lows enough, and with none of that gallant and spirited de 
 meanor which marked the chivalric soldier of the day. They 
 were powerful athletic men, however, strongly and completely, 
 though variously, armed one with the corslet and steel bonnet, 
 brassards and taslets, of a well-appointed trooper, one with the 
 hauberk and mail hose which were becoming at that time some 
 what obsolete and the third in a brigantine or shirt of light 
 chain armor on the body, his limbs protected by the usual de 
 fences of plate, and his head by a stout iron morion. They all 
 wore broad-swords and long lances, and several daggers in 
 their belts ; beside which they had each a long bow and a 
 sheaf of arrows at his back. Their horses were stout, active 
 animals, in good condition, though somewhat low in flesh, and 
 the whole appearance of both men and beasts, although deci 
 dedly irregular, was soldier-like and serviceable. The priest 
 who sat upon his mule, chatting sociably with the leader of 
 the party, was a round oily-looking little figure, with a soft, 
 sneering smile and a twinkle of marvellous shrewdness in his 
 quick, dark eye ; altogether, however, he was as unclerical 
 
THE ROBBER-PRIEST. 11 
 
 looking a personage as ever drew a cowl over a tonsored head, 
 and it is probable at least, that had his garment been subjected 
 to a close scrutiny, some most unpriest-like appendages might 
 there have been encountered. 
 
 "Well, priest well! well!" said the red leader, interrupt 
 ing him impatiently, in the middle of a prolix description, " but 
 what said Talebard ?" 
 
 " Talebard Talebardin," answered the little monk, pompously, 
 " sent greeting to the Rouge Batard, and prayed that he would 
 give him the rencontre, with as many men and horses as he can 
 make, at the stone cross in the back\vood near Braine-la-Leud, 
 on the third morning. It seems he hath got trdings of a strong 
 castle, weakly guarded, with a fair chatelaine within, and store 
 of wealth to boot. Her lord hath ridden forth to join John 
 Lackland at Mirepoix !" 
 
 " By God s head, and I will," returned the other, " and there 
 is little time enough to spare. The third morning may the 
 fiend else receive me! is to-morrow. Ho! Jean Lenoir 
 draw your belt tight, and mount your trotting gelding, and ride 
 for life to Wavre on the Dyle, Bras-de-fer must be there, ere 
 this, with thirty lances spare not for spurring, and bid him 
 bring his men up with all speed, and meet me at the broken 
 bridge! You know the place begone! I look for you ere 
 midnight." 
 
 " But my fair son and penitent," interposed the monk, " how, 
 if we spare Lenoir, shall we be able to deal with the goodly 
 company of merchants, and win the pretty demoiselles I told 
 you of, and the rich sumpter mules ? we shall be but three 
 men-at-arms, and they have four armed serving-men !" 
 
 "Jean must go, monk," the other answered sharply, "Jean 
 must go, and forthwith, by God ! but he shall leave his bow 
 and shafts with you, and you shall strip the gray frock off, and 
 
12 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 don the cold iron, as you have done before! but were the 
 demoiselles so lovely ?" 
 
 " Else may I never more kiss ruby lips, or drain a foaming 
 flagon," answered the worthy monk, stripping off, as he spoke, 
 his gray frock, and showing himself dressed in a suit of close- 
 fitting chamois leather, with a light jazeran, or coat-of-mail, 
 covering all his body, and a belt round his waist, well stored 
 with poniards and stilettoes. In a moment or two he had 
 rolled up his clerical dress, and deposited it in a little wallet 
 fastened to the crupper of his saddle ; from which, after a 
 moment s fumbling, he brought out a strong pothelmed of black 
 iron. With this he speedily covered his shaven crown, and 
 taking the bow and quiver, which the trooper resigned to him 
 as he spurred his horse down the side of the hill appeared in 
 a style far more suitable to his real profession than he had done 
 before the alteration of his dress. 
 
 Scarcely had he finished his preparations, before, casting 
 his eye down the road to the eastward, he exclaimed : " Now, 
 by the good saint Martin! here come the knaves. Look 
 here, Messire ! here, over that big chestnut, you may perceive 
 the fluttering of their garments down in the valley of the stream ! 
 We have no time to spare they will be here within ten min 
 utes." 
 
 " Right, by our lady ! Right monk !" cried the Rouge Batard, 
 " and for your tidings you shall choose you a paramour, as 
 soon as I am served." 
 
 " Not so, by God !" interrupted one of the others, " it is my 
 turn this bout the unfrocked priest gets ever in the luck on t. 
 When we look Ferte-sous-jouarre, last Whitsuntide, the bright 
 est eye and the rosiest cheek of the lot fell to our confrere 
 Benedict !" 
 
 " Look sharp, lad look sharp, Andre," returned the chief, 
 with a sinister glare of his single eye, and a malignant sneer, 
 
THE AMBUSH. 13 
 
 " lest instead of red lips, and white arms to clasp your neck, 
 you find a hempen knot to grace it, for by the God that made 
 you, dispute one other word of mine, and you shall swing for 
 it ! To horse ! to horse !" he added, seeing that his reproof 
 was effectual, and that no further admonitions were required. 
 " You, monk, lead, Andre and Le Balafre down to the thicket 
 just below the angle of the road at the hill foot. The moment 
 they come, give them a flight of arrows, and see you make 
 sure of the men-at-arms. Shoot each into the face, under the 
 eyeball, if you may ; and then charge, sword in hand, and shout 
 our war-cry. I will be with you on the word. Away ! be 
 steady, sure, and silent !" 
 
 Not a word more was needed ; the priest and his compan 
 ions scrambled down into the road, and rode off as quickly as 
 was consistent with complete silence, while he who was called 
 the Rouge Batard led his horse slowly down the side of the 
 steep knoll ; and, having reached the road just as his followers 
 disappeared round an abrupt turn of the causeway, tightened 
 his girths carefully, and sprang into the saddle without putting 
 hand to mane, or foot to stirrup, his horse standing motionless 
 aH the while as a carved statue. Settling himself firmly in his 
 demipique, he lowered the visor over his hideous features, 
 loosened his broadsword in its scabbard, and, seeing that the 
 battle-axe which was suspended at the saddle-bow was ready 
 to his grasp, laid his long lance into its rest, and, keeping the 
 point elevated, walked his horse gently down the sandy road. 
 
 His seat was firm and graceful ; his hand light, delicate, and 
 easy ; and as the noble animal which bore him curvetted down 
 the gentle slope, despite the singular color of his harness, its 
 want of complete uniformity and neatness, and the ruffianism 
 of his whole appearance, it could not be denied that he was an 
 accomplished horseman, and altogether a showy, martial-look 
 ing soldier. 
 
14 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 In a few moments he reached the spot where he had placed 
 his ambuscade, and halted. It was indeed a place adapted for 
 the purpose the road, which here was perfectly level, ran 
 between almost impervious thickets of hazel, ash, and alders, 
 much interfaced with creepers and wild briers ; and was over 
 hung* with timber-trees, so that at noonday it was ever twilight 
 there ; and in the early evening, profound darkness. The 
 causeway at this point turned suddenly, directly at right angles, 
 so that of two parties travelling in opposite -directions, neither 
 could see or suspect the approach of the other till they were 
 in close contact ; and here, well knowing that his men lay in 
 the thicket close before him, the Routier halted, with his lance 
 in the rest, and eye, ear, heart, on the alert, ready to dash in 
 on the travellers at the first signal of the robber-priest. His 
 horse, endowed as it would seem with an instinctive knowl 
 edge of what was in the wind, did not so much as champ its 
 bits, much less paw up the ground, or neigh, or whinny. Not 
 a sound was to be heard in the wooded defile except the hoarse 
 cooing of a distant wood pigeon, the wild, laughter-like scream 
 of the green-headed woodpecker, and the tinkling gurgle of a 
 little rivulet which crossed the road some fifty yards below. * 
 
 The company which was approaching, and which had been 
 accurately reconnoitred by the priest during their noonti de 
 halt at the little village of Merk-Braine, consisted of no less 
 than twelve individuals, beside a long train of sumpter mutes 
 loaded with costly merchandise. First rode, well mounted on 
 stout, black, Flemish horses, four of the ordinary armed ser 
 vants or retainers of the day, dressed in strong doublets of 
 buff-leather, with morions and breastplates, and heavy halberds 
 in their hands, arid long swords girded on their thighs. Close 
 upon these came three persons, the principals evidently of the 
 party, riding abreast ; and as it would seem engaged in earnest 
 conversation. He on the right hand sffle-was a tall, portly 
 
THE FLEMING MERCHANT. 15 
 
 figure, with a broad brow and handsome features ; but his hair 
 was already tinged with many a streak of gray, and the deep 
 lines of thought and care upon his cheek and forehead told as 
 distinctly as words could have done, that he had spent long 
 years amid the toils and trials of the world ; and that two thirds 
 at least of his mortal course had been run through whether for 
 good or evil. Next to him, curbing lightly a beautiful Spanish 
 jennet, there rode as lovely a girl as ever man s eyes looked 
 upon. Still in her early youth, there was no stain, no blight 
 of sin or passion on her sweet innocent features ; her full, 
 black eye danced with an eloquent and lightsome mirth, and 
 there was a continual smile on her ripe, ruby lips ; her form 
 was tall and slender, yet exquisitely rounded in all its flowing 
 outlines ; and so symmetrically full, that her young, glowing 
 bust might have been chosen for a sculptor s model. As near 
 to her upon the left as he could guide his eager horse, hang 
 ing on every word she uttered as, though his soul were bal 
 anced on the low, soft sound, and gazing into her eyes with an 
 impassioned, earnest tenderness, was a fine, noble looking 
 youth of twenty-five or twenty-six years ; handsomely clad in 
 a pourpoint of morone colored velvet, with a rapier at his side, 
 and a richly-mounted poniard in his girdle. These were again 
 followed by two serving-women, fair, buxom-looking lasses, 
 with the dark eyes and rich complexions of the sunny south, 
 mid an old steward, or major-domo, riding unarmed beside 
 them. The train was brought up by two common grooms, or 
 serving-men, without any weapons, either offensive or defen 
 sive, driving a string of laden mules, the whole forming the 
 retinue, as the quick eye of the Routier s emissary had not 
 failed to detect, of a rich Fleming merchant, travelling with 
 his family and chattels toward the capital of France. 
 
 Just as they neared the lurking-place of the banditti, the 
 fair girl raised her eyes to the fast darkening heaven, and a 
 
16 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 slight shiver running through her graceful form, " Uncle," she 
 said, addressing the elder rider, " I would we were at our halt 
 ing-place for the night. I know not why it is for never did 
 I feel aught like it before but there comes over me a secret 
 dread and horror, as I look out into these dreary woods, and 
 see the shadows of approaching night darkening the giant trees. 
 Is there no peril here ?" 
 
 " None, my girl," replied the portly burgher, " no peril, or I 
 would not have exposed you to it. That fierce marauder, Tal- 
 ebard Talebardin, as he calls himself, and his more barbarous 
 associate, the Red Bastard, have marched away, as I learned 
 beyond all doubt, ere we crossed the frontier, to join the bad 
 king John, at Mirepoix, where he is even now in arms against 
 his brother s son. And the great Philip, as I hear, is hurry 
 ing hitherward with such a train of bannerets and barons as 
 has made all the roads secure as the streets of Paris. But we 
 will trot on, for the night is darkening, and we have four 
 leagues yet to traverse ere we reach Braine-la God of heav 
 en ! what have we here !" 
 
 His last words were caused by a fierce and discordant yell 
 from the thicket, accompanied by the simultaneous twang of 
 three bowstrings, and the deadly whistling of the gray goose 
 shafts ; and almost instantly before, indeed, tha words had 
 well left his lips three of the four men-at-arms fell headlong 
 to the earth, each shot in the face with a barbed arrow, and, 
 after a few seconds struggle, lay cold and senseless as the 
 clods around them. The remaining trooper set spurs to his 
 horse, and drove furiously forward, accompanied by the char 
 gers of his slains companions, which, freed from all restraint 
 and mad with terror, tossing their heads aloft, and yerking out 
 their heels, dashed diverse into the deep forest. 
 
 What has occupied many lines to relate, occurred almost 
 with the speed of light ; and, while the long ear-piercing shriek 
 
17 
 
 yet quivered on the lips of Marguerite Beaufroy, her uncle 
 snatched her bridle-rein, and, putting spurs to his own horse, 
 struck into a furious gallop, crying, " Ride, ride ! for life ! for 
 life ! we are waylaid God aid us !" But as he did so, from 
 the thicket forth charged Le Balafre and his companion, fol 
 lowed by the pretended monk. Cutting into the middle of the 
 train they separated the younger merchant from his fair cousin 
 and his father, rode down the old steward, and one attacking 
 the youth, sword in hand, while the others coolly cut down and 
 stabbed the unarmed servitors, were masters of the field in five 
 minutes space. For a moment or more it seemed as though 
 the first fugitives were about to escape ; for they had already 
 interposed a considerable space between themselves and the 
 ruffians, and were just wheeling round the angle of the wood, 
 when, full in front rose the appalling war-cry, well known by 
 fame through every province of fair France, " Ha ! ha ! Saint 
 Diable pour le Rouge Batard !" and as the awful sound smote 
 on the ears of the trembling voyagers, a scene of no less terror 
 presented itself to their eyes, the fearful form of the Red Rou- 
 tier charging in full career against their servant, who scarce 
 had power to wield his halberd, so utterly had terror overcome 
 his heart and palsied his strong arm. One instant one loud 
 thundering crash, with a wild cry of mortal anguish ringing 
 above the clang and clatter arid the short strife was over. 
 Man and horse rolled in the dust, one to rise no more, and still 
 with lance unbroken and in rest, its point and pennon reeking 
 with the hot life-blood, the Rouge Batard came on. But as he 
 came, he saw that all the strife was over, excepting the pro 
 tracted struggle between La Balafre and the young lover. He 
 jerked his lance up quickly, when its head was within a foot 
 of the eld^r merchant s breast ; and curbed his charger up so 
 suddenly that he stood motionless, thrown almost on his haunch 
 es, scarce a yard distant from the Spanish jennet of the unhappy 
 
18 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 Marguerite. "Hold your hands! all!" he shouted, "hear 
 you me not, La Balafre ? Hold your hands, man ! And you 
 Sir Fool, down with your silly sword, before worse come of 
 it ! Sweet lady, I salute you," he continued, " by God but thou 
 art wondrous fair, and worthy to be, as thou shalt, ere long, the 
 world-famed mistress of Le Rouge Batard. You sirs," he went 
 on speaking very rapidly, addressing the merchants, " down 
 from your horses, on the instant ! Point out to these good men 
 the costliest and least bulky of your wares, yield up your purses 
 and your jewels, and, seeing we have lost no blood, we will be 
 merciful to day, and suffer you to go at large, reserving to our 
 selves your demoiselles, whom, by the spirit of thunder, we 
 will console right worthily." 
 
 " That thou shalt never do, dog !" cried the young man, aim 
 ing with the words a tremendous blow at the head of the 
 Routier. Sparks of fire flashed from the dinted casque of the 
 Red Bastard, and his head was bent forward almost to the 
 saddle-bow ; but ere his bold assailant could repeat the blow 
 he had set spurs to his charger, and, letting fall his own lance, 
 seized the youth by the throat with the tremendous gripe of 
 his gauntlet, and, throttling him for a moment savagely, lifted 
 him clear out of the saddle and hurled him to the earth with 
 such violence that he lay stunned and motionless. " Take 
 that," he said, with a bitter sneer, " take that, to teach you 
 manners ! And, since you deign not to accept our mercy, by 
 Heaven, you shall fare the worse of it. Hold my horse, monk," 
 he added, as he leaped to the ground, and stood up to the pros 
 trate youth. " Who is that groaning there ?" he exclaimed, as 
 a faint acclamation of pain reached his ear, from the old stew 
 ard, who, sorely bruised and shaken by his fall, was just re 
 covering his senses. " Par Dieu ! I can not hear myself think 
 for the noise. Jump down from your horse, Le Balafre, and 
 cut his throat at once ; cut it close under the jaws, down to 
 
A VAIN APPEAL. 19 
 
 the back-bone ; that will stop his cursed clamor ; and then 
 come hither with your knife." 
 
 The brutal mandate was executed in an instant, despite the 
 feeble struggles of the old man, and the screams of the ser 
 vant-girls, who were so near the wretched being that his blood 
 literally spirted over their feet and the hems of their dresses ; 
 and then, bearing the deadly instrument, a huge double-edged 
 knife, with a blade of a hand s-breadth, and two-feet in length, 
 still reeking with the evidence of slaughter, the scarred and 
 savage ruffian approached his chief, who, with his vizor raised, 
 stood perfectly unmoved and calm, contemplating his victims 
 with an air of quiet, easy satisfaction-. The man looked at 
 him for a sign, and he replied to the look ; " Wait ! wait a little 
 while ! he is coming to and it were pity he should die with 
 out feeling it !" 
 
 "O God! God! be merciful spare him, thou man of 
 blood spare him, and I will bless thee, pray for thee, love 
 thee ! yea, bribe thee to the deed of mercy, with all I hold on 
 earth !" exclaimed the lovely Marguerite, flinging herself from 
 her horse before his knees, and clasping them in agony as she 
 grovelled at his feet ; while her uncle heaped offer upon offer 
 of ransoms that on a foughten field would have bought dearly 
 an earl s freedom. 
 
 " By all that s holy," answered the brute, " but thou art won 
 drous beautiful !" and with the words he raised her from the 
 ground, and held her for a moment s space at his arms length, 
 gazing with a critical eye into her pale but lovely face ; then 
 drawing her suddenly to him, he clasped her to his breast in 
 the closest embrace, and pressed a long, full kiss on her reluc 
 tant lips. " Thou art most wondrous fair, and thy lip is as soft 
 and fragrant as a rosebud ! I would do much to earn the love 
 of one so beautiful ; but thou hast nothing, sweet one, where 
 with to bribe me, save thine own person, and that is mine al- 
 
20 
 
 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 ready, as thou shalt learn ere long ! Cease thy absurd, unmean 
 ing prayers, old man, they are of no avail. Balafre, the good 
 youth, is alive enough to feel now !" and, at his word, the ruffian 
 knelt down coolly, and plunged his weapon three several times 
 into the bosom of his unresisting victim, while with, one fearful, 
 shivering shriek, Marguerite fainted in the arms of the Red 
 Bastard. 
 
 "That is well! that is well! now seeing that this worthy 
 senior hath somewhat more of sense than young hopeful, we 
 will give him a choice for life. Gag him, and tie him to yon 
 chestnut-tree ; if he survive till morning, without the wolves 
 discovering him, he may live yet many a day. Look sharp, 
 my men ! Bring out your mule, monk, and bear me this fair 
 dame before you. Carefully, sir and, mark me, see that you 
 do not dare so much as look or breathe upon her lovingly ! 
 The maids will ride on with us, on their own hackneys ; and, 
 hark ye, silly hussies, no wrong shall be done to you, save that 
 women in their hearts deem no wrong, phrase it as they may ! 
 so ye keep silent ! but just shriek once again, and ye shall 
 share the fate of that old dotard. Andre, and you, Le Balafre, 
 bring up the mules. Away ! away ! or we shall scarce meet 
 Talebard by daybreak !" 
 
 His orders were performed upon the instant, and to the very 
 letter. The terrified girls ceased from their painful sobbings ; 
 the old man, in despite of desperate resistance, was made fast 
 to the tree ; and the monk, bearing on his saddle-bow the lovely 
 maiden, still, happily for her, insensible, the Rouge Batard 
 mounted his potent charger, and, with his captives and his 
 booty, rode at a rapid pace into the forest, the depths of which 
 were now as dark as midnight. 
 
THE HOSTELRIE OF MERK-BRAINE. 21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE KNIGHT. 
 
 THERE is a little hostelrie in the village of Merk-Braine, 
 which bears the marks to this day of the most extreme antiquity ; 
 and which, if it be not the same that offered hospitality to trav 
 ellers in the days of Philip Augustus those glorious days of 
 old knight-errantry ! occupies at least the same position, and 
 discharges the same functions now, as did its scarcely ruder 
 prototype long centuries ago. 
 
 It was, at the period of which I write, a wretched clay-built 
 hut, with unglazed lattices ; a ragged porch of old worm-eaten 
 timber ; a bush, or dray branch rather, over the door ; and a 
 broken flagon suspended from a pole at the gable, to indicate 
 to passers-by the character of the tenement. Uninviting, how 
 ever, as was the exterior of the building, and unpromising of 
 better cheer within, so rude were the accommodations of the 
 age, and so threatening the aspect of the evening for it was 
 autumn, and the equinoctial storm, which had for some time 
 past been brewing, seemed now about to burst in earnest 
 that an acclamation of pleasure rose to the lips of the leader 
 of a little party of horse, as he drew in his bridle at the door, 
 and shouted for the hostler 
 
 He was a tall and powerful man, of some six or eight and 
 thirty years, with a bold, manly countenance, sun-burnt and 
 darkened by exposure to all weathers ; a full, well-opened eye, 
 of a bright sparkling blue, and a quantity of close-curled auburn 
 locks clustering round his temples. His beard and mustaches 
 for he wore both were considerable darker than his hair; 
 
22 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 but the latter were so small and closely trimmed, as to detract 
 nothing from the effect of his well-cut firm mouth, which with 
 his ample brow, was decidedly the finest feature of his face. 
 His dress was the superb attire of a baron of that day in his 
 complete war-harness, except that he wore on his head only a 
 low cap of black velvet, trimmed round the brim with ermine, 
 while his casque was suspended from the saddle-bow of his 
 principal attendant. He was then sheathed from the throat 
 downward, in panoply of palated Milan steel, polished till it 
 glanced to every beam of light like a Venetian mirror ; yet it 
 glanced not with the cold lustre of plain burnished iron ; for in 
 the tempering of the metal, it had been wrought to a rich, pur 
 plish blue, resembling not a little the finest modern enamel, 
 and was moreover engrailed, to use the technical term, with 
 threads of golden wire, so exquisitely welded, in patterns of 
 rare arabesque, into the harder steel, that the two substances 
 were perfectly incorporated. It must not be supposed, how 
 ever, that the whole of this superb suit was exposed to the 
 sunshine, which, reflected from its surface, would have been 
 intolerable to the wearer, or to the rain, which would, ere long, 
 have dimmed its polish ; nothing, in fact, was visible of the 
 armor, except the gorget defending the neck, the brassards, 
 vantbraces, and gauntlets on the arms, and the splents covering 
 the legs from the knee downward ; for all the chest and thighs 
 of the rider were clad, above the mail, in a surcoat, or loose 
 frock, of fine white Flanders cloth, fringed with deep bullion, 
 and having a chained dragon the well-known cognizance of 
 the counts of Tankarville emblazoned on the breast, on thick 
 embroideries of gold. The splendid warrior, however, carried 
 no offensive weapon, with the exception of a richly-mounted 
 dagger at his girdle ; nor was he horsed on his ponderous 
 charger, but on a slight and delicate Arabian, of a deep iron 
 gray, whose springy limbs and slender pasterns would have 
 
THE KNIGHT S ATTENDANTS. 23 
 
 seemed utterly inadequate to bear the weight of so large a man 
 sheathed in so ponderous a harness, had not its wild, large eye, 
 its red, expanded nostril, and its proud, tremulous snort, as it 
 chafed against the curb, proclaimed it full of the indomitable 
 spirit of its desert sires. His attendants were three in number. 
 An old dark veteran, with hair as white as snow, but with a 
 ruddy, sun-burnt face, radiant with health and animation 
 who, mounted on a strong, black charger, bore, in addition to his 
 own accoutrements, his master s lance and helmet. The other 
 two were ordinary men-at-arms of the period ; armed indeed 
 with unusual exactness, and mounted on beasts that might have 
 borne a king to battle. Of these, one carried the two-handed 
 broadsword of the knight, with its embroidered baldric, and 
 the small heater-shaped shield, embossed with the same bear 
 ing as his surcoat ; the other led his destrier, a tall, full-blooded 
 Andalusian red-roan, with snow-white mane and tail, barded 
 for battle. Ponderous, indeed, was the burthen, of both man 
 and horse, in those days ; for the knight s charger bore, in ad 
 dition to its huge plated demipique, a chamfort covering the 
 forehead, connected to a series of stout plates running down 
 the vertebrae of the neck, and fastened to the saddle-bow ; a 
 poitrel of fluted steel protecting the whole chest and counter, 
 and the bard proper, guarding the loins and croupe, from the 
 cantle of the saddle to the tail. All his armature was wrought 
 point device, to match the harness of the rider, and, like that, 
 was covered by a housing, as it was termed, of white cloth 
 rickly laced, and decorated in several places with the same 
 figure of the chained dragon. From the pommel of the saddle 
 were slung, one on either hand, a battle-axe of Damascene 
 steel, and a heavy mace-at-arms. The reins of the bridle 
 were not composed of leather, but of two plates of metal, a 
 hand s breadth wide in the centre, but tapering toward the bit 
 to which they were attached by solid rings, and toward the 
 
24 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 hand-piece, where they were connected by a stout thong of 
 bull s hide. 
 
 Such were the persons, and such their attire, who lighted 
 down, a short space before sunset, at the door of the village 
 tavern, seemingly not a little pleased to have attained its shel 
 ter before the storm should burst, which was already howling 
 through the forest. 
 
 " Matthieu," exclaimed the knight, as he sprang down from 
 his palfrey, with a clang and clatter that might have been heard 
 half a mile off, " Matthieu, good friend, let the men take the 
 bridles off, and feed the chargers ; but bid them on no terms 
 unbard them, nor lay their armor off themselves. These woods 
 of Soignies and Ardenne are rarely free of brigands ; and 
 though we have heard tell that those infernal miscreants, Tal- 
 ebard Talebardin, and the Rouge Batard, have fallen back into 
 Normandy, before King Philip s host, I hold it likelier far that 
 they would tarry here in force, to waylay the small parties, such 
 as mine and five hundred others, which are all straggling up 
 to the rendezvous at Mirepoix. Look to it, old companion ; 
 and then come in and see what cheer we may find for the night ; 
 sorry enough, I trow ; but better, as the adage goes, a beg 
 gar s cassock, that no covering in a storm. " 
 
 And with these words he entered the single room, which 
 occupied the whole ground floor of the cabin, serving for 
 kitchen, hall, and parlor ; wherein he found an old and with 
 ered crone, as deaf, apparently, as a stone-wall ; for she took 
 no notice whatever of his entrance, her back being turned as 
 he stooped under the low doorway, though he made noise 
 enough, with his jingling spurs and clashing harness, to have 
 aroused the seven sleepers 
 
 " What ho ! good dame," he cried, " canst give us somewhat 
 to eat, and a drink of good strong wine to warm us this cold 
 night ?" And as he spoke, he flung himself into a huge, old- 
 
THE VILLAGE-TAVERN. 25 
 
 fashioned settee, by the hearth, the woman gazing at him all 
 the time with an air of stupid bewilderment, which excited his 
 mirth to such a degree that he laughed, literally, till the tears 
 ran down his cheeks ; increasing her confusion and dismay by 
 every succeeding peal of merriment. At length, after sundry 
 ineffectual efforts, interrupted by fresh shouts of laughter, he 
 made her comprehend his meaning ; and, that once done, she 
 speedily produced some cold provisions, with a flask or two of 
 wine, very superior in quality to what could have been expected, 
 from the appearance of the hut. The joints, however, of roast 
 boar s flesh, and the venison pastry, which composed the prin 
 cipal parts of the entertainment, had all suffered considerable 
 dilapidation ; and it was in apologizing for this, that the old 
 woman let fall some expressions which aroused in an instant 
 the jealousy of the wary soldier. 
 
 " It was a party," she said, " from Ghent, or Bruges, or 
 Antwerp it might be, that had passed by at noon with a great 
 train of merchandise ; and such an angel of a lady, so young, and 
 soft, and tender, and kind-spoken ! Poor thing," she added, 
 "poor thing ! twas pity they had rid forth into the forest ; but the 
 Lord s will be done ; and if it be his pleasure, sure he can guard 
 them from the peril " 
 
 " Peril ! what peril, dame ?" shouted the count, so loudly 
 that she failed not to hear and comprehend him ; " what peril 
 they should run I know not, unless it be a late ride into Braine- 
 la-Lead ; and it may be a ducking, which, I trow, will scarcely 
 drown this beautiful bourgeoise. Ha ! say what peril ?" 
 
 " Well, well ! she knew not," she made answer ; " the forest 
 never was over-safe ; besides the gray monk of Soignies was 
 here as they came up, and mingled with their train, and ques 
 tioned closely of their route. God send it be all well : I be a 
 poor, old, helpless thing, and know naught of their doings." 
 
 " By our lady of Bonsecours !" muttered the knight between, 
 
 2 
 
26 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 his teeth, "but it seems to me thou dost know over-much for 
 
 honesty ;" and then" Whose doings, mother ?" he continued ; 
 
 and who is this gray monk of Soignies ? or what hath he to 
 
 make with their well-doing ?" 
 
 Nay, nay ! I know not ; all the world, I thought, had heard 
 
 tell of the gray brother- all the world twenty leagues round." 
 But happening not to dwell within twenty leagues round, 
 I have not heard tell of the gray brother ; so now, I pntl ee, 
 dame, enlighten me." 
 
 But by no exhortation, or even threats, could he extort 
 other word from her ; for she had apparently relapsed 
 impenetrable deafness, and sat crooning some old ballad over 
 the hearth, a picture of the most utter imbecility, 
 pondered for a few minutes deeply ; and once he half rose from 
 his seat, as if to order out his horses ; but when he reflecte 
 on the distance they had journeyed without any bait, he sank 
 down again in the settee, drained a deep draught of wine, and 
 with his eyes fixed on the embers of the wood-fire, continued 
 in a fit of musing, until he was interrupted by the entrance of 
 the old ecuyer Matthieu, and the two men-at-arms, from the 
 
 stable. 
 
 Bidding his followers take care of themselves, and get 
 their food quickly, for he should start again so soon as the 
 steeds had eaten up their provender, he was again relapsing 
 into thought, when his squire addressed him suddenly - 
 " Where be the servants of the inn, beau sire ?" 
 There be none, Matthieu," answered the knight very quick 
 ly not a soul, save this cursed old witch, who, whether she 
 be deaf or no, simple or over-quick, by mine honor I am a 
 
 loss to tell !" 
 
 Nor be there any hostlers in the stable-yard ; though there 
 be forty stalls of stabling, and corn and hay sufficient for a 
 squadron, and plenty of dry litter, and signs enow of many 
 
THE REBUKE. 27 
 
 horses ! Nor is there, for so much as I can learn, one man in 
 the whole village if village one may call this heap of filthy 
 hovels. Not a soul have I seen, but one foxy-headed boy, who 
 ran away and hid himself, so that we could not find him." 
 
 " I fancy, my good Matthieu," replied the count quite coolly, 
 " I fancy we have fallen into a precious den of routiers and 
 ecorcheurs. The hag let out, I know not what of travellers 
 who had passed by at noon, and were all like to come to evil ; 
 but I could make naught out of her." 
 
 " So, please you, beau sire," interrupted one of the men-at- 
 arms, who had been listening attentively, their own suspicions 
 having been much awakened ; " so, please you, beau sire, but 
 that I have heard say you do not lika such doings, I could 
 find a way to make her hear, though she were as deaf as the 
 grave, and answer, too, though she were as dumb as a hedge- 
 hog." 
 
 " How so, Clement Mareuil ?" asked his master, sternly. 
 " How could you make this wretched old hag hear, if the 
 drums of ears be palsied ?" 
 
 " Easily, beau sire, easily ! let me but tie your bunch of 
 matches between her fingers, and just light the ends, I warrant 
 me she will tell all her secrets that you shall hear them a 
 league distant. When I was carrying a free lance in Schoen- 
 velt s light battalion " 
 
 " Hark thee, Clements," interrupted the knight ; " I have 
 heard say that Schoenvelt s light battalion was little better than 
 a band of tondeurs. Himself, I know, though a fierce cham 
 pion, and a manly, to have been at the best a barbarous ma 
 rauder. Now, mark me ! Let me hear such words as these 
 once more ! much more let me hear of your doing deviltries, 
 such as you phrase so glibely ! and, were you the best spear 
 in Flanders, I would strip you of my bearings, and scourge 
 you with my stirrup leathers, till your back should be more 
 
28 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 tender than your mercy! For shame! you a soldier, and 
 talk of torturing a woman !" 
 
 Nay, nay, beau sire," answered the man, much abashed; 
 pardon me, for I meant no evil. Every one knows that all 
 the villains hereabout are in league with the gray monk of 
 Soignies and the Red Bastard. I warrant me this old hag 
 knows all their haunts as well as I know." 
 
 Methinks you know too much, Clement," interposed Mat- 
 thieu, of these routiers thyself. I warrant me, thou countest 
 fellowship with this Red Bastard !" 
 
 No, no, sir ! not so bad as that," replied the soldier, look 
 ing very much confused ; not I, indeed-though, to say 
 truly," he continued, when I served Shoenvelt, there was a 
 proper man-at-arms among his free companions, as hideous as 
 the foul fiend to look upon, and as cruel, too, to say the lea* 
 of it ! and I have heard say he is the man who now bears that 
 soubriquet. He was base-born, I know ; and his hair was as 
 red as a fox s brush, and twice as coarse, He was a stout 
 lance, and a right bold rider; but God forbid that I should 
 count fellowship with such an utter devil !" 
 
 "And who is the gray monk of Soignies, sirrah? since 
 thou knowest all about it," the knight demanded; "this old 
 jade spoke of him but now." 
 
 Ah ! ah ! I thought so, beau sire. I said as much a while 
 since. Why, the gray monk is one whom, but that he walks 
 the earth in human shape, and that I saw him once well nigh 
 killed in a melee, I would swear was the arch enemy of man ! 
 Why beau sire, it was he who forced the knight of 1 
 castle, and crucified him over the altar of his own chapel, 
 while his men violated his wife and his two sisters before 
 
 very eyes !" 
 
 To horse !" exclaimed the knight, springing to 
 to horse, then, on the instant ! Away, Clement and Raoul ; 
 
VILLANY FRUSTRATED. 29 
 
 screw on my casque, Matthieu, and hang my shield about my 
 neck, and belt me with my espaldron, else shall more villanies 
 be done this night. To horse, my men, right hastily !" 
 
 With the first words of their master the men-at-arms hurried 
 to the stable to fetch out their chargers, but ere five minutes 
 had elapsed they both returned, dragging in between them a 
 stolid-looking, red-haired boy, whom they swore they had 
 caught on the point of knocking a large spike-nail which 
 they produced, together with a hammer, as evidence of the 
 fact into the hoof of the knight s roan charger. The old wo 
 man s eye lightened, as the boy was dragged in, for a moment; 
 but she instantly resumed her appearance of stupidity, and sat, 
 as before, rocking herself to and fro, and droning over an old 
 song, careless, apparently, and ignorant of all that passed be 
 fore her. 
 
 " How now, young villain ! For what wouldst thou have 
 lamed my war-horse ?" cried the count, now excited into a 
 paroxysm of fury. " Speak out ! speak out ! or, by the God 
 that made me, base peasant, I will flog thee till all thy bones 
 are bare, and hang thee afterward, head downward, over those 
 slow wood-ashes. Speak, or an thou diest not my name 
 is not Hugues de Coucy !" 
 
 The boy glared up into his face with an air of stubborn reso 
 lution, but spoke not, nor made any sign. 
 
 " Off with thy sword-belt, Clement. Mareuil, bind him to 
 yon door-post, and lash him till he find his tongue." His 
 orders were obeyed upon the instant. The first blow of the 
 heavy thong fell on the naked shoulders of the peasant, and 
 instantly a broad, long, livid wheal rose on the withering flesh! 
 a second, and the blood spirted to the ceiling, as if from a 
 sword-cut ! a third time Clement s arm was raised, and the 
 stubborn sufferer cowered beneath the lash ; when the old hag 
 sprung up "A thousand curses on thee, fool ! Why dost 
 
30 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 not tell them that the gray brother gave thee ten Flemish 
 florins to lame the horse of every traveller should come up ere 
 sunset, that none might interrupt their doings in the forest? 
 And now thou knowest it all, sir knight, and much good may 
 it do thee ! for long ere you reach the great chestnut they will 
 have slain the men-at-arms, and rifled the rich goods, and 
 worked their will on the wenches ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! now go 
 thy way, sir knight, and make the best on t !" 
 
 " Not I, by Heavens, till I have found a guide." 
 
 " There is no better in the country, beau sire," interrupted 
 Matthieu, " than Clement. He knows this province for thirty 
 leagues around, as well as ere a fox that it earths in the forest. 
 Is it not so, Mareuil ?" 
 
 " Ay, is it," answered the vassal, " seeing I was born in it 
 myself. Yes, yes, beau sire, I can lead you to the great 
 chestnut, and to the headless cross in the beech woods, and to 
 the broken bridge, and to every other haunt of these ma 
 rauders. 
 
 " How didst thou gain this knowledge, Clement ? Hast 
 thou, indeed, consorted with these canaille ? Then thou art no 
 more man of Hugues de Coucy ! Off with my cognizances, 
 sirrah ! Get thy ways hence, and deem it mercy I let thee 
 go alive !" 
 
 "No, no ! beau sire ! These same ecorcheurs, tondeurs, and 
 pilleurs, as they now call them, were once good honest for 
 esters, ere the wars made them first fierce soldiers, and then 
 disbanded depredators, and now barbarous banditti. Many a 
 deer I ve struck with them by moonlight ; and all their haunts 
 and trysting trees I know of old, though twenty years have 
 passed since I saw Ardenne." 
 
 " Away, then ! en avant ! Cry Tankarville to horse, and to 
 the rescue !" And in five minutes space they had buckled on 
 their weapons, and mounted their war-horses, and rode off at 
 
MIDNIGHT IN THE FOREST. 31 
 
 a long, hard trot along the very road, by which the Flemish 
 merchants had passed, four hours before, into the forest. 
 
 " The foul fiend follow ye, and hunt ye to perdition !" ex 
 claimed the woman, as they rode off clanging from the door, 
 " and if ye reach the headless cross at daybreak, ye shall find 
 horse enough to harry ye !" 
 
 Dark waxed the night and darker, as they pursued their 
 way with unabated zeal ; and the wind rose, and roared among 
 the tall trees of the forest, and whirled whole flights of leaves 
 and many a broken branch away before its furious sweep, and 
 the clouds blotted the faint stars ; and, save that now and then 
 a flash of lurid lightning flickered across the moonless sky, it 
 had been palpable and solid gloom. 
 
 Onward they rode, still onward!, and still the night waxed 
 wilder. No rain fell from the scudding clouds, but the fierce 
 wind raved awfully, and the thunder muttered in one continual 
 dull reverberation from every quarter of the firmament, and the 
 whole sky was one incessant blaze of blue and sulphurous fire. 
 The deep road through the forest was illuminated bright as at 
 noonday ; and so full was the atmosphere of the electric fluid, 
 that a faint lambent flame played constantly about the armor 
 of the men, and flickered on the points of their weapons an 
 awful and appalling sight ! yet, as it seemed, innocuous ! 
 
 Still onward ! They rode onward ! Night had no terror 
 not even such a night as this for one like Hugues de Coucy, 
 when his high valor was spurred to its mettle by a high pur 
 pose. Onward ! and now they passed the great chestnut- 
 tree, a landmark known for leagues, but all around was silent 
 and deserted. They wheeled around an angle of the road, 
 the lightnings blazed across the causeway, and showed a scene 
 that might have struck a chill to the most fiery heart. Five 
 horses were there plunging to and fro, and writhing in minute 
 agony, hamstrung by the banditti, who had not spared the 
 
32 SIR HUGUES DE COUCT. 
 
 time, or who had lacked the will, to save them hours of tor 
 ture. Beneath the feet of these, mangled and maimed by their 
 incessant plungings, but, happily, insensible to any pain or 
 outrage, lay in their curdled gore eight human bodies ! Four 
 stout-armed serving-men, three of them shot into their faces 
 with barbed arrows, one of them slain outright by a spear- 
 thrust, a youthful gentleman, an aged steward, or seneschal, 
 and two unarmed grooms, hacked with unnumbered wounds 
 all foully, barbarously slaughtered ! 
 
 The knight pulled up his charger on the spot ; and, at the 
 moment, a loud cry for aid fell on his sharpened ear. 
 
 " Who calls ?" he cried, " who calls for succor ? In God s 
 name it is here !" 
 
 " I, Arnold Marillon, of Bruges," he replied, in a faint voice 
 from the forest. " I am bound here to the oak-tree !" 
 
 " Good Lord ! mine ancient friend, Marillon ! Hold my 
 horse, Clement Mareuil hold my horse ! Follow, Matthieu! 
 Be of good cheer, fair master Marillon. It is thine old friend 
 Hugues de Coucy, whose ransom thou didst pay, in past years, 
 to Ferrand, earl of Flanders ! all shall yet be well with thee 
 ay, by St. Paul, and well avenged!" 
 
 In another moment the old man was released from his 
 bonds, and refreshed by a draught of wine from a huge bottiau, 
 or leather bottle, which hung at the squire s pommel, was 
 speedily able to recount his grievances. 
 
 A few words told the fatal story. At early evening they 
 had been ambushed by a band of four robbers only ; three of 
 their armed retainers had been shot down in the first onset, 
 
 IP 
 
 the other speared by the Red Bastard, and then," he added, 
 half suffocated as he spoke by fierce and passionate grief, 
 " and then they slaughtered, in cold blood, my sister s son 
 my dear, my fair-haired William ! they slaughtered my old 
 faithful steward ! they slaughtered my poor valets ! and they 
 
TO THE RESCUE! 33 
 
 have dragged away my girl, my hope, my more than life! 
 Marguerite de Beaufroy to infamy, and agony, and death!" 
 
 " Clement, canst thou guide us farther ?" 
 
 " To the Red Bastard s presence !" 
 
 " Come, then, kind Marillon, take one more draught of wine, 
 mount on Grey Termagant, and ride with us right hopefully. 
 What has been done can be, ay, and shall be avenged ! but 
 can not be amended. What is undone as yet, as yet may be 
 prevented. God and the good saints aid us ! and thou mayst 
 yet embrace thy niece ere daybreak." 
 
 Not a word was more spoken, nor a moment of time wasted. 
 The old merchant was mounted without delay ; and, although 
 weak and worn by suffering and sorrow, he rode on stoutly by 
 the side of his deliverer. 
 
 All night they rode ; but, just as day was breaking, they 
 reached the summit of a little hill overlooking a marshy valley, 
 intersected by a cross-road, with a thick beech-wood occupy 
 ing all the bottom land, and a broken cross of stone in the 
 centre of the causeway. Before they reached the summit of 
 the hill, the voice of Clement warned the knight that now or 
 never they should meet the formidable Routier ; and, in effect, 
 as they crossed the brow, they came in view of the party 
 four horsemen, fully though irregularly armed, and three female 
 figures bent to their saddles with fatigue, and prevented from 
 falling only by the bonds that fettered them. The clatter of 
 the knight s approach had warned them of their coming dan 
 ger ; and sending the women forward to the cross, the brigands 
 drew themselves up across the road, in readiness to dispute 
 the passage. 
 
 " Tankarville to the rescue ! St. Paul ! St. Paul for Tankar- 
 ville ;" and down the gentle slope thundered the knight and 
 his attendants ; while with equal spirit the robbers spurred their 
 steeds to meet them. 
 
 2* 
 
34 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Saynct Diable !" but his awful war-cry was cut 
 short, for the Red Bastard, conspicuous by his crimson pano 
 ply and dauntless bearing, had singled out De Coucy, and 
 charged him with lance in rest with singular prowess ; but 
 though he charged his lance with perfect skill, striking the 
 very centre of the knight s vizor, and shivering the stout ash- 
 pole to atoms up to the very grasp, De Coucy no more wavered 
 in his saddle, than he had done for the buffet of a lady s fan ! 
 While his lanced-head pierced sheer through shield and plas 
 tron, corselet and shirt of mail, and spitting the marauder through 
 and through came out at his back-piece, the shaft snapping 
 short some two feet from the champion s gauntlet ! though slain 
 outright, the routier sat his horse stiffly ; and, as the knight s 
 charger still swept on, he was in the act of passing Hugues, 
 when the latter, not perceiving that he was slain, stood up in 
 his stirrups and smote him such a blow on the head-piece with 
 the truncheon of his broken lance, that all the fastenings of the 
 vizor burst, the avantaille flew open, and the hideous face of 
 the Red Routier was displayed, livid with the hues -of death, and 
 writhing with the anguish of the parting struggle ! De Coucy s 
 followers had fared as well as he, for two of the marauders, 
 the antagonists of Clement Mareuil and old Matthieu, were 
 killed in the first shock ; but the priest shivered his spear fairly 
 with Raoul, and passing by him unharmed, darted into the 
 beechwood, and escaped. 
 
 For a moment it seemed as though the field were won, and 
 the women rescued ; it was, however, but for a moment ! for 
 scarcely was that onset over, before the thundering sound of a 
 large body of armed horse came down the two cross-roads, 
 blended with the clangor of dissonant horns, and wild yells, 
 and savage outcries. 
 
 "Ha! ha! Saynct Diable!" Talebard Talebardin to the 
 rescue !" and, wheeling down like lightning through both ave- 
 
TALEBARD TALEBARDIN. 35 
 
 nties, thirty or forty savage-looking, irregular horse drove, with 
 their spears in rest, against the little party of De Coucy. 
 
 The champion s lance was broken ; yet undaunted, he en 
 countered the front rank ; three lances shivered against his 
 coat of proof, but shook him not a hair s breadth in his stirrups. 
 Three sweeping blows of his two-handed sword ! and three 
 steeds ran masterless, while their riders rolled under the hoofs 
 in the death struggle. But one man, though a hero, can not 
 succeed against a host. As he raised his sword for a fourth 
 stroke, a thundering blow of a mace or battle-axe was dealt him 
 from behind, and at the same instant a lance point was driven 
 through the eye into his charger s brain. Down he went, 
 horse and man, and when he recovered his senses from the 
 shock, a man in plain, bright armor was kneeling on his breast ; 
 and the point of a dagger, thrust between the bars of his avan- 
 taille, was razing the skin of his face. 
 
 " Yield thee, sir knight, or die ! Yield ! rescue or no rescue !" 
 
 " To whom must I yield me ! though it avail me naught to 
 ask it ?" inquired the haughty baron, retaining all his pride and 
 all his fiery valor. 
 
 " To me Talebard Talebardin !" 
 
 " I ! I ! I, Hugues de Coucy, yield me to such a slave as 
 thou art to a murtherer of old men in cold blood a violator 
 of ladies a torturer of babes and suckling! sacrilegious dog! 
 base knave! thief! traitor! liar! vassal! do thy worst, I defy 
 thee !" 
 
 " Ha ! my most noble baron, is it thou ?" answered the ruf 
 fian perfectly unmoved. " I might have guessed as much, by 
 thy bold bearing Nay! nay! we do not stick such lambs as 
 thou art, for their flesh s sake, we save them for their .ransoms ! 
 Here, Croquart, Picard, Jean Le Noir, bind this sweet baron, 
 hand and foot ; and strip him of his gay feathers straightway ; 
 but harm him not upon your lives. By all the fiends in hell, 
 
36 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 his ransom will bring fifty thousand crowns of the sun right 
 readily ! So that is briefly settled !" 
 
 And with the words, he rose from the chest of the knight ; 
 and resigning him to the hands of his subordinate ruffians, 
 walked off to examine the field of battle, and the booty which 
 had fallen into his hands. The latter comprised the miserable 
 Marguerite half rescued only to be again enthralled with her 
 two serving-women ; the old merchant, Arnold Morillon, and 
 the stout baron Hugues de Coucy. Six of the routiers had 
 been slain, beside the Rouge Batard ; four of the number by 
 the hand of Hugues ! The men-at-arms, Raoul and Clement 
 had both died fighting to the last ; but dead or living, Matthieu 
 de Montmesnil, the old esquire, was to be found nowhere. 
 And it is doubtful, whether, as the knight was borne away into 
 captivity, he did not regret more deeply than either his own 
 defeat or the seizure of the women, the disgrace of the veteran 
 warrior who had fought by the side of his father ; and who ac 
 cording to the rules of chivalry, should have died under shield 
 dauntless, rather than leave his lord, captive or dead, upon the 
 field of honor. 
 
AN AUTUMN MORNING. 37 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE ESQUIRE. 
 
 IT was about eleven o clock of the morning, on a fine clear 
 autumnal day, which had succeeded to a night of storm and 
 fury, that a single wayfarer might have been seen seated be 
 side the brink of a small consecrated well on the roadside be 
 tween Braine la Leud and Brussels. The road, at that period, 
 lay stretching far through an unbroken forest, which indeed 
 covered the whole face of the country for many a league in 
 circuit, with but a few small tracts of cultivated land, smiling 
 like sheltered oases amid the wide waste of green leaves and 
 waving fern, that clothed both vale and upland. It would 
 have been impossible for a poet s fancy to conceive, or painter s 
 hand to delineate a spot more singularly picturesque, more 
 lonely or romantic, than that which had been chosen for a 
 resting-place by the worn traveller, a small sequestered nook 
 between three short but abrupt hills, which closed it in on 
 every side save one, where down a narrow gorge, the head of 
 a broad valley, the waters of the little fountain welled with a 
 gentle murmur, soon to be lost in the turbulent channel of some 
 larger but not purer streamlet. The spring-head of this crys 
 tal streamlet was sheltered from the sun and air by a small 
 vault of freestone, wrought in rich Gothic fret-work, and sur 
 mounted by a cross of rare workmanship ; an iron cup was 
 attached to the margin of the basin by a chain, and a stone 
 bench, over-canopied by a huge assh-tree, afforded a pleas 
 ant resting-place to voyager or pilgrim. Behind the well 
 there rose a tall, rough bank of sand, within which was the 
 
38 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 birthplace of those limpid waters, all overgrown with wild- 
 flowers, and running with long wreaths of eglantine and honey 
 suckle, and all around it the tall Titans of the forest reared 
 their great heads exulting in the sunshine, which bathed their 
 airy tops in floods of yellow lustre, while all their lower limbs 
 and moss-grown boles, and the soft, green sward at their feet, 
 were steeped in cool, blue shadows. The sandy road, which 
 wound through this deep solitude, seemed little travelled 
 for no wheel-tracks and but few hoof-prints could be traced 
 along its yielding surface not a sound was to be heard ex 
 cept the gentle breath of the morning air whispering constantly 
 among the ash-leaves, and low gurgle of the rivulet, and now 
 and then the sudden song of the thrush or blackbird bursting 
 out from the thickets in a gush of liquid ecstasy, and hushed 
 almost immediately into repose and silence. So seldom, too, 
 it would appear, were human beings seen in that sylvan dis 
 trict, that an unwonted tameness was perceptible among the 
 animal creation. Several small birds hopped down into the 
 road, and even ventured up to drink or lave their disordered 
 plumage in the little channel which wound across the path, 
 within a few yards of the man s feet who sat there silently, all 
 overdone with travel. Nay, more, a wild deer came out from 
 the copse on the farther side, and gazed about it for a moment, 
 and eyed the strange forms with some apparent apprehension ; 
 but seeing that he moved not, drank its fill of the stream, and 
 only when the man raised his head from his hand whereon he 
 had been resting, did it bound away with startled speed into 
 the deeper woodlands. 
 
 It was the man himself who gave the point and character to 
 the scene ; for he was such a one as least of all would have 
 been expected in that plate. He was an old man, as could be 
 seen at once, even before he lifted up his face, for his hair 
 was as white as snow, though singularly long and abundant ; 
 
THE WEARY WAYFARER. 39 
 
 but, when he moved his dense and shaggy eyebrows, his large 
 mustache, and pointed beard, all of the same silvery hue, 
 confirmed the first impression, although the sunburnt and some 
 what ruddy hues of his complexion, arid the full, bright black 
 eye, should have belonged to one many years his junior. His 
 dress was as much unsuited to a foot-traveller, as it was easy 
 to see he was ; for, besides that he had no horse or any beast 
 of burden, his feet and lower limbs were all besmirched and 
 stained with clay and mud of twenty different colors, caught, 
 it would seem, from as many different sloughs and quagmires, 
 as his being there at all seemed old and unaccountable. It 
 was a complete suite of the heaviest horse-armor then in fash 
 ion, consisting of a very solid corslet, or cuirass of plate, worn 
 over a loose shirt of chain-mail, the sleeves of which protected 
 his arms, while. his legs and feet were guarded by hose of the 
 same material, and splendid shoes of steel. His helmet lay 
 on the ground beside him, with its crest bruised and dented, 
 and the avantaille wrenched quite away from the sockets. 
 Above his armor he wore a cassock of buff-leather, guarded on 
 the seams with lace, and embroidered on the breast with the 
 cognizance of a chained dragon but it was sorely rent and 
 defaced, and cut quite through in many places, and dabbled 
 with fresh stains of gore, and soiled as if with clay. His 
 mail, moreover, was much battered ; blood might be seen 
 oozing from beneath the rivets of his gorget, and trickling 
 down his right arm from the shoulder. 
 
 He was very faint, too, and weary, as it seemed from his un 
 certain, vacillating movements ; yet he did not wait a long time, 
 before having bathed his face and hands in the cool water, and 
 gathered up his battered casque and gauntlets, he arose from 
 his seat, and, supporting himself on the truncheon of a broken 
 lance, which was the only offensive weapon he carried, ex 
 cept a long and formidable dagger at his belt, took the road, 
 
40 SIR HUGUES DE COTJCY. 
 
 dragging his legs wearily along, that led toward Brussels. He 
 had not, however, taken many steps before the tramp of a horse 
 coming down the road at a light gallop caught his ear, and the 
 next moment the rider crossed the brow of the hill, meeting 
 him face to face at a short distance off. It was a gay and 
 handsome boy, splendidly mounted on a bright blood bay Arab, 
 dressed in a gambesoon of fine white cloth, with horse of the 
 same fabric, and russet-leather buskins, all richly laced with 
 gold, and blazoned on the breast with the same bearing that 
 decked the old man s cassock. Under the gambesoon he had 
 a light shirt of linked mail, the edges of which were visible, 
 and the neck and sleeves, polished as bright as silver, but on 
 his head he wore only a cap of embroidered velvet with a tall 
 plume. 
 
 The moment his eye fell on the old man, staggering feebly 
 up the slope, he checked his horse and sprang from the saddle. 
 
 " Mother of God !" he cried in tones expressive of more 
 consternation than could be deemed befitting an eleve of chiv 
 alry. " Matthieu Montmesnil in this plight ! Where is our 
 lord ? Speak, man, where is Sir Hugues de Coucy ?" 
 
 "Prisoner! Ermold de Clermont. Prisoner to that base 
 villain, Talebard Talebardin !" 
 
 " Now, by St. Paul !" replied the boy, his face flushing fiery 
 red, " I scarce can credit mine own ears ! Hugues de Coucy 
 yield him a prisoner to a churl a base and cruel robber! 
 That would I not believe, though I did see it happen. Thou 
 art mad, Montmesnil, to say so." 
 
 " I did not say so, Ermold," answered the old man, in a 
 broken voice, " sooner would I bite out my tongue with my 
 teeth, that it should tell dishonor of the Coucy. Nathless, 
 prisoner he is, and to that same marauder. When he refused 
 to yield him, rescue or no rescue, they stripped his armor off 
 and bound him, hand and foot, and keep him for his ransom." 
 
AN OLD MANS TALE. 41 
 
 "And thou didst see this? Thou! them! Matthieu de 
 Montmesnil ! didst thou see our lord bound like a beast before 
 the shambles, and madest not in to rescue or die with him ! 
 Now, by St. Paul ! I do believe thy wounds have made thee 
 mad, that thou dost lie upon thyself for from no other tongue 
 of man beside thine own would I believe thee coward, and 
 recreant, and traitor ! nor do I now believe it. Oh ! say, Mat- 
 theiu, say it is false that thou hast spoken ! Say anything but 
 that thou hast fled and left thy lord in durance !" 
 
 " I may say nothing but the truth," returned the other per 
 fectly unmoved ; " yet hear me out, Ermold thus it fell out : 
 To be short, we found last night in the forest, good Master 
 Morillon of Bruges, bound to an oak-tree, and his fair nephew 
 and his train all foully slaughtered ; and learned how that they 
 had been beset by the Rouge Batard ; and the young lady, 
 Marguerite, carried off with her maidens. And so we mount 
 ed Master Morillon upon Gray Termagant, and rode off all 
 night, and at the break of day came on the rogues in the little 
 vale of the headless cross, and charged them lustily. Our 
 lord bored the Red Bastard through and through, as a cook 
 spits an ortolan ; and Clement de Mareuil and I, each slew his 
 man in the tourney ; but Raoul broke his lance with the gray 
 monk of Soignies, and so the robber-priest scaped harmless. 
 And just at that same instant, while our steeds were blown 
 and all our lances splintered, lo ! you, down came by the two 
 cross-roads, Talebard Talebardin, with thirty men or more, 
 yelling or howling like incarnate fiends, charged us in front and 
 rear, and bore us down in a moment. Sir Hugues slew three 
 men, at three blows, outright with his two-handed sword ; and 
 I and the rest did our best but the roan horse was thrust 
 into the eye with a spear-point, and our lord felled to the pum 
 mel with a mace and Clement and Raoul were slain in a 
 moment and I was badly hurt, for my horse went down 
 
42 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 rolling over me, when it was a minute ere I could get loose. 
 And ere I did so, Sir Hugues was fast bound ; and so, when I 
 saw that his life was safe, and that there was no chance of 
 rescue knowing right well that they would stick the squire 
 like a pig, though they might spare the knight I crawled 
 into the thicket while the robbers were all thronging round our 
 lord; but ere I had got off a spear s length, the gray priest, who 
 was hurrying back to join his comrades, caught me fast by the 
 throat but I put my dagger into him, up to the dudgeon hilt, 
 under his corslet rim. And here I am, no recreant nor cow 
 ard ! hey, Ermold ?" 
 
 " No, no ; forgive me, Matthieu, the rash word, But I was 
 half distraught, when thou didst say our lord was prisoner to 
 the incarnate fiends. But how didst thou come hither hast 
 walked six leagues since day-break in thine harness ; and what 
 wilt thou now do, to get our good lord free ?" 
 
 "Only five leagues, Ermold only five leagues, or a little 
 over ; and that were no great thing, but that my harness is, as 
 tkou sayest, not the best gear for walking and that being 
 wounded, I can not move so lustily as common ; but for the rest, 
 I came hither, Master Ermold, first to meet thee, whom I knew 
 to be on the route by this time, with tidings from Sir Raimond 
 of Fontanges not that thine arm is strong enough to do much 
 in a melee, but that thy heart is true, and thy wit some 
 what quick and pregnant. And now let us take counsel. And, 
 first, what news bringest thou from the beau sire Raimond ?" 
 
 " That he will meet our lord the tenth day hence with sixty 
 lances, before the walls " 
 
 "Too late! the tenth day hence too late for any pur 
 pose," answered the old man ; " then must we on to Brussels ; 
 though I trow the churl burghers will scarce unbuckle their 
 fat bags to pay Sir Hugues ransom, much less take bow and 
 spear to save him." 
 
THE FREE COMPANIONS. 43 
 
 " No, no ; that is no scheme at all. Besides, it is keen steel, 
 and not red gold, that must be ransom for De Coucy. We 
 must fall in and rescue him by the strong hand." 
 
 " If the strong heart could make the strong hand, Ermold," 
 said the old warrior, smiling with a half-melancholy glance of 
 admiration at the kindling eye and noble features of the gallant 
 boy, " then wert thou champion such as rarely has couched 
 lance in Flanders. But Heaven preserve thy wits ; there be 
 thirty spears at least of these marauders ; and we be an old 
 wounded man and a weak boy ! Twill not do, Ermold. though 
 dearly would I buy it, if it would." 
 
 " Ay! but it will, though ay! but it will, though for not 
 three miles hence, marching hitherward I passed them an 
 hour since, for they rode slowly not to break down their 
 destries are thirteen lances of Franche Compte, stout, free 
 companions, every one of them, under the leading of Geoffroy 
 * Tete-Noir. I have two thousand gold crowns in my 
 wallet, and we will buy them to the deed, and win our master 
 from his chains, and save the beautiful Marguerite God send 
 we may! for she was very kind to me when I lay ill and 
 sorely hurt in Bruges, and gain ourselves high honor !" 
 
 " Brave boy ! brave boy ! twill do ! turn thy nag straight, 
 ride like the wind to meet them, and bring them hither with 
 all good speed to the fountain ; there will I tarry and bind my 
 wounds up something, for they shoot now, though I felt them 
 not a while since." 
 
 No more words were needed ; the page wheeled his fleet 
 Arab round, and touching him with the spur, darted away like 
 an arrow from the bow, and crossed the hill-top, and was out of 
 sight in a moment. The aged esquire in the meantime, dragged 
 himself back to the well, and, his immediate apprehensions 
 quelled, set about unriveting his armor and binding up his 
 wounds in earnest. As he did so, however, he muttered to 
 
44 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 himself, " It is for the last time ! the last, most surely ! I but 
 must needs have all the strength I may for the stern struggle 
 stern it will be, I warrant me ! and then will I die under shield 
 freely, and willingly. Thou knowest !" he added, turning his 
 eyes reverentially upward, " so I may see him free !" 
 
 Scarcely had he finished his brief soliloquy, before the heavy 
 clang of armor was heard coming up the hill at the trot ; and 
 shortly* afterward the spear-heads and bright pennons of the 
 men-at-arms were seen glittering above the bushes ; and then 
 the party wheeled into full view, fourteen stout cavaliers, all 
 well-armed in bright suits of Flanders iron, with two or three 
 led horses, and a mule or two loaded with pieces of spare 
 armor, lances, and provender, and several skins of wine. The 
 leader, a very powerful man, whose jet black hair, beard and 
 mustaches, curling in fierce luxuriance, justified fully his 
 soubriquet of Tete-Noir, was busied in deep converse with 
 Ermold the page, although by the heavy frown that lowered 
 on his brow, and the half-despondent look of the boy, it ap 
 peared that he was not yet wrought to conviction. 
 
 As they reached the little hollow by the fountain, their 
 trumpet sounded a halt ; and while the leader dismounted, and 
 strode up to question Montmesnil, the men picketed their horses, 
 and prepared for the morning meal. 
 
 At first the chief of the free companions appeared reluctant 
 to engage in the adventure, alleging the superior numbers of 
 the marauders, the difficulty of finding them, and the prejudices 
 of his men, who might not be willing to attack men of a class 
 from which though considering themselves soldiers of honor 
 they were not, after all, very far removed. 
 
 Here, however, it seems he counted without his host, for 
 one of the others, a sort of lieutenant or second in command, 
 called out loudly when he heard the words of his leader, deny 
 ing, with a fearful imprecation, that they had aught to do any- 
 
THE BARGAIN. 45 
 
 thing in common with such low thieves as Talebardin. " Be 
 sides," he added, " it were foul sin and shame, to suffer such a 
 knight as Hugues de Coucy to linger in such durance without 
 blow stricken in the cause. Why, before God ! we should be 
 held the shame and scorn of all France ! No ! no ! Geoffroy, 
 let the page shell out the two thousand crowns here, and let 
 the squire pledge us his master s honor, provided we redeem 
 him man and armor, and set the damsels free five thousand 
 more to be paid down in Brussels, at good St. Martin s tide 
 and we will breakfast here, and ride right on and win him with 
 war weapons !" 
 
 The bargain was soon concluded, and after a hearty meal 
 the trumpet again blew to horse ; and Matthieu being provided 
 with a fresh casque and other arms, and mounted on one of 
 the led chargers, they rode off at a round pace, for the vale of 
 the headless cross. 
 
 Two hours hard riding brought them to the spot, which was 
 still marked distinctly with the dread tokens of the fray, several 
 dead horses lay upon the spot, among others the roan Andalu- 
 sian of the knight, despoiled of his rare armor and magnificent 
 housings, and the bodies of Clement and Raoul, where they 
 had fallen ; and all the road was poached up by the hoofs of 
 the heavy chargers, and the gore stood in many a hoof-track 
 curdled and horrible. But fearful as such a spectacle would 
 be deemed now-a-days, it was of occurrence too frequent, at 
 that time, to create any wonder or disgust in the bosoms, even 
 of the young and delicate of either sex, much less in these 
 stern soldiers. They halted, however, on the spot, and exam 
 ined the ground very closely. And here they would probably 
 have been entirely at fault had they been soldiers of a more 
 regular order ; for there was no distinct track from the place 
 leading away in any one direction, but, as it seemed, the whole 
 party had dispersed to every quarter of the compass, leaving 
 
46 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 no clew whereby they might be followed to their haunts. It 
 "was not long, however, before the sagacity of the free compan 
 ions detected the probable direction ; and the troop again got 
 into motion, though their movements were now slower and far 
 more guarded than they had been heretofore. After crossing 
 the forest for about an hour, they reached a wide glade or 
 woodtrack, through which it was evident that the marauders 
 had passed, for the greensward was cut up by prints of hoofs, 
 which one of the free lances confidently asserted to be the 
 same as those he had examined in the vale of the cross. A 
 closer investigation proved that they must have passed very 
 recently, for a fresh blood-drop was discovered on the grass, 
 still wet, which must have fallen from some wounded rider or 
 spurgalled horse s flank. 
 
 Here, then, a second halt was held, and three or four of the 
 most sagacious men were sent off in different directions, to re 
 connoitre the positions of the enemy. It was not many min 
 utes before the first returned, bearing the tidings that they were 
 close at hand, halted, as it seemed, for the evening, in a small 
 green savannah, half circled by a swampy streamlet. The 
 others soon came in confirming their comrade s tidings, and 
 bringing the further intelligence, that they were eight-and-twenty 
 men, well, although variously armed that their horses were 
 picketed close by, while the troopers were feasting around a 
 fire which they had kindled the knight heavily ironed, and 
 the females lying a short way aloof, under a clump of trees, 
 while some -of the leaders of the party appeared to be throwing 
 dice for the possession of their fairer captives^ 
 
 Few minutes were required to form the plan of action. It 
 was necessary to ford the brook a little way above the meadow, 
 where the routiers lay, so as to gain firm ground and space for 
 a charge ; and before doing this, Geoffrey Tete-Noir examined 
 the girths and stirrup-leathers of every charger in his troop, 
 
THE ATTACK THE RESCUE. 47 
 
 inspected all the arms in silence, and then, lowering- his vizor, 
 mounted his strong charger. And here the indomitable valor 
 of old Matthieu sttone out resplendent. He was so worn with 
 his wounds and weariness, that for the last ten miles he had 
 hardly been able to keep his saddle ; but now he roused and 
 kindled to the fray, as an old war-horse to the blast of trumpets. 
 All prayers of Erinold, all exhortations of the condottierii, that 
 he would remain at rest till the fray was over, were unheeded 
 scorned before even Geoffrey Tete-Noir he rode in the 
 van. 
 
 They forded the stream with success, they wheeled around 
 the hill-side, and made ready for the onset, but in the mean 
 time the clash and clang of their coming, aroused the routiers, 
 and they sprang hastily to their arms. Most of them were 
 indeed mounted but all were in confusion, and many scarcely 
 firm in their saddles, when the free companions poured like a 
 torrent down the hill "Tete-Noir Tete-Noir for Tankar- 
 ville ! De Coucy to the rescue and charge home !" 
 
 The shock was terrible, the fight was fought out furiously. 
 The superior numbers, and the despair of the routiers, would 
 have perhaps counterbalanced the better horses, and more 
 complete equipment of the men-at-arms, but the disarray in 
 which they were taken, was fearfully against them ; the giant 
 strength of Tete-Noir, the high and fiery valor of old Mont- 
 mesnil, and the mad impetuosity of the page Ermold, who 
 fought in his laced jerkin, foremost among the lances, swept 
 the marauders down like chaff before the whirlwind. 
 
 Ere yet the strife was ended, while the robbers, driven back 
 to the streamlet s brink, were striving desperately to escape, 
 and the free lances as desperately bearing them to the earth, 
 Matthieu had hewed his way through the melee, and reached 
 his liege lord, who had started up from the ground, but was 
 prevented by his bonds from joining in the fray. A stream of 
 
48 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 gore was pouring from the old man s vizor, and from a dozen 
 rents in his plate armor, and he so staggered as he leaped to 
 the ground, that he had well nigh fallen ; yet he rushed up to 
 Hugues de Coucy, and with his dagger wrenched out the rivets 
 from his manacles and fetters, and tore them from the limbs of 
 his loved lord. Then he sank down upon his knees and 
 clasped the knight s legs with his aged arms, and wet his feet 
 with honest, loyal tears. 
 
 " Thou art free thou art free," he cried, " my master ! thou 
 art free, and I die rejoicing ! yet say, before I die, thou par- 
 donest my leaving thee when captive, for to this end I left 
 thee, to this end only. Say, master, that I died thy true and 
 loyal squire !" 
 
 " No ! by St. Paul of Tankarville," the knight exclaimed, 
 "no! by St. Paul of Tankarville! but a true knight and 
 loyal !" and with the word he stooped and took the old man s 
 sword out of his hand, and striking him slightly on the shoulder, 
 he continued, "for with thine own sword nor ever was a 
 better! I dub thee knight before the ladies, before God 
 and good St. George ! Rise up, good knight and gallant 
 Sir Matthieu de Montmesnil," and he raised him to his feet as 
 he spoke, and opened his vizor, and kissed his ashy brow. 
 But a mighty gleam of exultation flashed over the features of 
 the dying man, and he gasped out with a faint voice, but joyous 
 accents, " A knight! a knight and by the honored hand of 
 the Coucy! Too much oh, too, too much!" 
 
 Then the count, seeing that his spirit was on the point of 
 taking flight, laid him on the ground softly, and took his hand 
 and knelt in tears beside him. 
 
 "When I am gone," the old man feebly gasped, "make 
 Ermold, thine esquire ! for though young, he is true, and 
 and valiant! Bury my sword beside me farewell De 
 Coucy and forget not old old Matthieu !" 
 
TWO DAYS AFTER. 49 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE MEN-AT-ARMS. 
 
 THE second morning after the defeat of the routiers, and 
 the death of Matthieu de Montmesnil, broke fair and cloudless; 
 there had been a smart hoar frost on the preceding night, and, 
 although the sun was already high in the heavens, the crystal 
 fretwork of the rime still glittered on the fern and briers, 
 bright as a warrior s mail ; the air was clear and sharp, and 
 full of that "invigorating freshness which is even more agreeable 
 to the senses of a healthful frame than the luxurious stillness 
 of a summer day, and all the forest, in which our scene still 
 lies, was alive with the gay notes of a thousand tiny warblers. 
 
 Faint, however, was the impression produced by the bright 
 sunshine, or the bracing gale, or the continued melody with 
 which the woods were vocal, on the spirits of the stout cham 
 pion, Hugues de Coucy, as he rode onward through the woody 
 passes, attended only by the page Ermold, deep sorrow brood 
 ing on his bold lineaments and broad, fair brow. He was 
 sheathed once again from head to foot in his own splendid 
 panoply, which had been won back from the robbers, perfect 
 and uninjured ; he backed, too, as before, the beautiful gray 
 Arab Termagant ; but the three stout and valiant soldiers, 
 who had so lately followed him in all the pride and power of 
 noble manhood, now lay beneath the frozen earth, cold, voice 
 less, deaf even to the soul-stirring trumpets! and for the 
 superb charger, clad like its rider in complete war array, and 
 like him panting for the shock of battle, a slow and sober 
 mule, heavily laden with the demipique and bardings of the 
 slain destrier, plodded along with drooping crest and dogged 
 
 3 
 
50 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 air, shrewdly exercising the patience of the young fiery page 
 who led him by the rein, with many an execration at the slow 
 gait from which neither blows nor caresses could compel him. 
 No word spoke Hugues, except at times a call to Ermold, " in 
 God s name to scourge on that lazy garron, else should night 
 fall and find them in the forest." Thus passed the morning, 
 dully and wearily indeed ; but as the sun reached the zenith, 
 the travellers gained the summit of a long sandy hill, whence 
 they might see the woodlands melting, as it were, gradually 
 into cultivated fields ; and beyond these a wide tract of fertile 
 champaign, intersected by many broad streams of water, all 
 gleaming gayly to the sunlight ; and in the middle ground of 
 the picture the tall Gothic steeples and grotesque towers, 
 which marked a city of the middle ages, shooting up into the 
 thin clear air, above the crowded roofs of Brussels. 
 
 " Soh ! Ermold," exclaimed the knight, halting, as he spoke, 
 to allow the boy to draw up abreast of him, " here, then, at 
 length is Brussels ; and look you to spare time which of 
 God s truth we do lack sorely I with all speed shall gallop 
 forward ; come on as best thou may, thou lt find me at the 
 Lion d Or, in the Place d Armes. I must purvey myself a des 
 trier, and thee a coat of plate ; an if thou art to be hereafter 
 mine esquire, and fain I would, if it be possible, pick up some 
 two or three strong varlets to ride with us, till such time as my 
 brother Hubert bring up my loading with the broad banner of 
 our house. We must be on our route again forthwith, so we 
 would save the Chatelaine de Vermeuil an onslaught from 
 these cursed routiers, of which they spoke unguarded and un 
 heeding, the while I lay their captive." 
 
 " Fear me not, my good lord," replied the youth, coloring 
 high with pleasure, " I will make no delay on the road, and 
 shall be up, I warrant me, at the Golden Lion, ere you be 
 reaclv to set onward !" 
 
THE HORSE-DEALER. 51 
 
 The knight bowed his head in answer, and slackened the 
 rein of his fiery horse, which tarried not for any farther sig 
 nal, but darted away like an arrow shot from the long-bow of 
 an English archer, over rough and smooth, up the long steep 
 ascent, and down the headlong hill, at the same long unvary 
 ing gallop. Not once, no, not for a moment, did he lag or 
 falter ; not once did he suffer the reins to fall loose from his 
 rider s hand, but straining eagerly against the bit, swept for 
 ward with a regular and gentle motion, like that of a bird 
 through the air, and within half an hour stood, without a pant 
 of his deep lungs, or a foam-spot on his housings, before the 
 barbican and moated walls of Brussels. 
 
 A few minutes were consumed in parleying with the captain 
 of the burgher-guard, who was on duty at the gates ; but this end 
 ed, no farther interruption occurred. So that before he had been 
 an hour absent from the page, the knight was installed in the best 
 chamber of the Lion d Or, as a well-remembered and much- 
 honored guest, with a cold capon, and a flagon of Burgundy 
 wine mulled with spices, at his elbow, the jolly landlord assur 
 ing him that he had sent for a maquignon, who would speedily 
 furnish him forthwith a charger, such as Duke Philip would 
 himself, God prosper him, be proud to mount in battle ; and 
 that by good luck, the Herr Jacob Vanderneer, deacon of the 
 armorer s guild, was taking his nooning down below when his 
 worship dismounted, and that he had departed homeward in 
 some heat to load his journeyman with harness for the good 
 knight s inspection. 
 
 For once no mighty discrepance occurred between the 
 promise and performance ; for scarcely was Sir Hugues ap 
 petite appeased, before the tramping of horses in the court, 
 under the windows, summoned him from his seat to inspect 
 the dealer s cattle. This worthy, stimulated by the hope of 
 high prices, and pretty well satisfied, by the great reputation 
 
52 SIR HUOUES DE COL CY. 
 
 of the count of Tankarville for an accomplished cavalier, that 
 any of the ordinary tricks of the trade would be on this occa 
 sion thrown away, had brought out in the first instance the 
 flower of his stables, resolving merely to atone for this devia 
 tion from ordinary rules by demanding at least twice the value 
 of each particular animal. There were, indeed, several fine- 
 looking beasts among the dozen or fifteen which were paraded 
 to and fro by the grooms on the pavements ; but one espe 
 cially caught the baron s eye as fully capable of supplying the 
 place of his lost Aridalusian. It was a tall and powerful black 
 horse, with a white spot on the face, and one white foot be 
 hind ; and, as the practised judgment of Sir Hugues at once 
 determined, had no small intermixture of Barbary or Arab 
 blood with the best Flemish strain. The price demanded for 
 this charger, although after he had nearly kicked out the 
 brains of one groom, and had actually pulled a second out of 
 his saddle with his teeth, and shaken him as a terrier-dog 
 would a rat, the dealer admitted him to be a vicious devil 
 which trait, however, he affected to consider as an advantage, 
 rather than the reverse to one so famed for horsemanship as 
 the sieur de Coucy was even for that age stupendous. 
 Without seeming, however, to consider this, Hugues ordered 
 the black horse to be set aside, and proceeded to select a 
 second by no means inferior in blood or beauty, though some 
 what slighter made and lower than the first, which he judged 
 fit to carry Ermold in his new character of esquire. While 
 he was yet engaged in examining the chestnut, the landlord 
 touched him on the shoulder and presented three tall fellows, 
 whom he declared to be honest lads, well known to himself 
 two of whom had seen some service, and were eager to be 
 admitted to the preferment of following a lord so famous. The 
 first of these, him who had never served, the knight at once 
 rejected ; and then, after asking a few questions of the others, 
 
TRIAL OF HORSEMANSHIP. 53 
 
 he desired the taller of the two, who was likewise the older 
 soldier, to jump up on the black horse, bare-backed as he was, 
 and ride him round the yard. The grooms laughed aloud at 
 the coolness with which the baron gave this order, as though 
 it were the easiest thing in the world, and the maquignon, 
 who was acquainted with the aspirant, cried out, " Have a 
 care ! have a care, Giles ! for he s as full of tricks, ay ! and 
 as stubborn as a fiend." 
 
 " And if he be the fiend himself, I care not, Master Andrew," 
 answered the fellow ; " for the foul fiend had to carry Master 
 Michael Scott, as men say, the Scottish magician, across the 
 seas from Salamanca to St. Andrew s, and I trow Master Scott 
 could hardly back a destrier with a free lance of Flanders." 
 
 And with the words he strode up to the black charger, and 
 laying his hand on the mane, sprang, almost as it seemed with 
 out an effort, to his back. In an instant the fierce brute reared 
 bolt upright, and positively leaped endlong into the air, alight 
 ing on the pavement with such violence that sparks of fire 
 flashed from the stones under the dint of his hoofs ; and scarce 
 had he alighted before he fell into a succession of plunges, 
 kicking and lounging to and fro like a very devil, but all to no 
 avail ; for the trooper sat him as though he had been a portion 
 of the animal, till, having run through all the changes of its 
 vice, it became quiet for a few seconds space, when he dis 
 mounted, and walked back to his place with a well-satisfied 
 smile on his countenance, not in the least out of breath or dis 
 composed by his late exertion. 
 
 " Well ridden, Giles," exclaimed the knight, " exceedingly 
 well ridden ; now an thou listest to follow faithfully my banner, 
 thou mayest do Avell in these wars." 
 
 " So please you, beau sire," answered the man, " I ll do my 
 best for it ; and little doubt to win your favor, if honest bearing 
 and stout blows will win it !" 
 
54 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 " That they will, that they will, good fellow," answered Sir 
 Hugues ; " never thou fear it ! and thou, sir, wilt thou brook the 
 trial, and mount black Sathanas there ?" he continued, turning 
 to the younger man. 
 
 " I will, Sir Hugues, I will," he answered humbly ; " for I 
 am not afraid ; though, to say truth, a man may ride well, and 
 yet not be a match for yon black devil. But I will risk a fall 
 for it. No man shall say Francon Van Voorhis sought service 
 with the count of Tankarville, and when he might have gained, 
 lost it for lack of heart." 
 
 As he finished speaking, he too crossed the yard, and suc 
 ceeded in mounting the formidable horse, which immediately 
 resorted to its old tricks, displaying no small degree of activity 
 and skill in controlling the first plunges. As if, however, he 
 had been but irritated by his rider s efforts to subdue him, snort 
 ing and foaming till his black, glossy limbs were spotted as if 
 with snow-flakes, the mighty horse dashed to arid fro, scatter 
 ing the grooms like sheep, and at length freeing his head by a 
 violent effort, and yerking out his heels a dozen times in suc 
 cession, hurled the youth Francon from his back, like a quoit 
 from the arm of a strong player. Luckily for the man, he fell 
 upon a heap of horse-litter, which had been swept out from the 
 inn-stables, else had he never moved limb any more ! as it 
 was, he was sorely bruised ; yet as he rose, lame and limping, 
 and shook the straws from his doublet, he laughed cheerfully, 
 and said : " Better luck next time, sieur horse, thou mayest 
 unseat me, but the fiend s in t if thou canst scare me." And 
 he made as if he would have tried his fortune again ; for he 
 offered to catch the horse, which was careering furiously about 
 the court, no one daring to approach it ; but as he did so, " That 
 will do, that will do, my lad," cried the knight, " for one day, 
 at the least. Thou hast done well, and wilt do better yet, I 
 warrant me, ere thou hast followed the Coucy s banner a twelve- 
 
THE WILD DESriUKR BROKEN. 55 
 
 month. Get thee in with thy fellow Giles ; and mine host, 
 give them each a quart of Rhenish, and that presently. We 
 must to horse ere long but now to conquer this swart demon, 
 which must be done at once, if we would have him useful." 
 And instantly as the horse darted past him, he snatched the 
 halter with his right hand, and brought him up with a jerk that 
 threw him, for a moment, on his haunches ; then, all armed as 
 he was in the heaviest panoply of the day, he vaulted to his 
 bare back at a single bound, and plunged the rowels of his 
 gilded spurs up to the head in his flanks. For a few moments 
 the struggle was tremendous ; at first it seemed as if no human 
 power or skill could have controlled the frantic efforts of the 
 furious stallion ; but as the knight sat firm, baffling each suc 
 cessive plunge, and answering every kick with a corresponding 
 motion of his armed heels, it soon became evident that he must 
 be the master of the day ; for, after a while, every plunge was 
 weaker than that which preceded it, and anon quite baffled and 
 subdued, panting and blown the proud war-horse stood still. 
 Then the knight wheeled him round, and walked him to and fro, 
 and patted his high crest, drawing off the mailed gauntlet from his 
 hand ; and again pricking him gently with the spur, put him 
 through all his paces, and passaged him around the court, wind 
 ing him to and fro with the least touch of the rein, as gently 
 as a lady s jennet. Then he dismounted, and standing by his 
 head, caressed him quietly for a few moments, and then walked 
 away toward the stables of the inn, the conquered destrier fol 
 lowing as peaceably behind him, as though he had been the 
 tamest cart-jade in the city. While this strange scene had 
 been in progress, Ermold de Clermont arrived at the inn-gates, 
 mounted as we haA T e described him, on the bay Arab, and lead 
 ing the mule loaded with the bard and housings of the baron s 
 horse ; and stood in silence looking on the good knight s prow 
 ess, till the black stallion was completely vanquished. Then 
 
56 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 he stepped up to Hugues, and took the bridle of his destrier, 
 and transmitted to the grooms of the hostlery, his lord s com 
 mands to clean and rub down his new purchase thoroughly, 
 and arm him with the full horse-armor and housings, as speed 
 ily as might be. 
 
 The countenance of the two troopers, who had not yet gone, 
 having waited to see how their new lord rode, evinced 
 how vastly he had risen in their estimation ; and the elder of 
 the two kneeled down before him, as he returned from the 
 stables and said, " Hear me swear, beau sire, never to swerve 
 or falter, never to turn back from the deadliest brunt of battle, 
 never to draw the rein or sheath the sword, so long as you are 
 in the field before me ; for here I vow myself your man, through 
 weal and wo for ever, in life and unto death ! For if I leave 
 thy side, while thou art in the field and fighting, or if I die not 
 on thy body when thou liest under shield, full knightly, then 
 may my patron-saint desert me in mine utmost need ; may good 
 Saint Peter lock heaven s gate against me ; and hell receive 
 my soul ! For sure thou art the noblest knight, the stoutest 
 leader, the completest champion, that couches spear in Christ 
 endom !" 
 
 The other, as he perceived his fellow s action, and heard 
 the vow which he uttered, threw himself on his knees beside 
 him and stretching out his arms, cried with aloud voice : " Me ! 
 me ! me too ! good knight ; hear me, for I swear likewise" 
 and all the while the big tears rolled down his sunburnt cheek, 
 and he sobbed audibly, so deeply did he feel the responsibility 
 of the service which he was undertaking ; till, as Giles finished 
 his speech, he uttered a loud " amen ! on my soul be the oath 
 : amen!" 
 
 A bright gleaming smile played over the animated features 
 of the knight, as he listened to the fervent exclamations, and 
 looked upon the agitated countenances of his followers ; for 
 
THE APPROVAL. 57 
 
 he was in truth well satisfied ; knowing that in minds of low 
 and grovelling order there, are no springs of such enthusiasm, 
 and arguing thence that these his newly chosen men-at-arms 
 were moulded of the right metal for making chivalrous and 
 gallant soldiers. 
 
 " Well spoken, both of ye," he answered, " well spoken, and 
 I thank ye for it ; and if ye be true followers to the Coucy, trust 
 well that he to you will be true lord and loyal ; and for the rest 
 of God s truth, I have seen some service, and, so the good 
 saints prosper me, shall see more ere I die ; and if ye list to 
 lay lance in the rest among the foremost, ye shall not long lack 
 opportunity, nor, it may be, advancement. Go in now, go in 
 and refresh ye ; and that done, we will fit ye with good plate- 
 coats, and tough lances, and we will ride forth this same night 
 upon adventure. But hold ! hold ! I would see your judgment 
 in this same article of horseflesh choose, each of ye a char 
 ger out of the lot before ye, and if your choosing like me, why 
 I will stand the upshot." 
 
 With many thanks, the soldiers turned to the grateful task, 
 proceeding to the business with so much alacrity and read 
 iness as proved them, in their own estimation at the least, 
 masters of the art. It was not, however, till after much chaf 
 fering with the maquignon, and much consultation with each 
 other, and much more examination than the knight had judged 
 necessary before choosing his own destrier, that they pitched 
 upon two powerful and well-bred horses, which meeting Sir 
 Hugues approbation, were set apart with those which he had 
 already selected. 
 
 This matter of the horses having been thus satisfactorily ar 
 ranged, it remained only to equip them and their riders with 
 their necessary arms and housings ; and scarcely had the hest- 
 lers led away the chargers to get them fitted at the saddler s 
 with their steel-plated demipique and chainwork bridles, before 
 
58 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 the deacon of the armorers reappeared, accompanied by four 
 or five stout serving-men, dividing among them the different 
 pieces of two complete suits of armor, suited as nearly as might 
 be guessed to the page Ermold ; on trial, however, one of the 
 two proved quite too large ; while the other, which fitted per 
 fectly, was pronounced by the knight to be of too splendid a 
 fashion for his esquire, being all engrailed with damasking of 
 silver. 
 
 " Ermold shall go with you," he said, " good master armorer, 
 and I will trust to you to fit him forth becomingly, let the har 
 ness be of plate bright steel, but without ornament ; if it be 
 of Alnayn rivet, or from a Milan forge, so much the better. 
 A close casque of the old fashion, with a fixed avantaille and 
 see there be gusset of good mail, hooked firmly to the corslet 
 rim, and upper edge of the brassards, to guard the oxter from 
 arrow-shot or thrust of some sharp weapon, when the right 
 arm is raised. Dost mark me, ha? And ye, good fellows, go 
 with him likewise ; fit them, I pray you, both, with your best 
 harness of burnished Flanders iron, complete dost under 
 stand? complete from head to foot, steelboot and taslet, bras 
 sard, vant-brace, and corslet, and see here ! none of your open 
 morion or bacinets, but good stout cerveilleres, with beaver and 
 mailhood. That done, I will entreat you to commend them to 
 a leatherworker s, where they may get them each a cassock 
 of dressed hide to wear above their mail ; white, mark you, 
 Ermold, and laid down on the seams with lace, and see ye 
 that the suits be of one pattern, that ye look orderly and neat, 
 not loose, irregular companion. Furnish them, likewise, thou, 
 Herr Jacob, with double-handed swords, and dudgeon daggers 
 of a hand s breadth, and a good battle-axe apiece of ten pounds 
 weight or better. Now hurry, my men, hurry ! for by the Lord 
 that lives the day is waning. Now, Vandenkopf," he added, 
 turning to the landlord, " go in and speak with me, for I must 
 
THE DEPARTURE. 59 
 
 needs draw a bill on Master Morillon of Bruges, or if it like 
 your money-changers, better on the intendant of my estates of 
 Tankarville, to pay for these same steeds and harness !" 
 
 This would have been at that- day, in any other state of 
 Europe, a task of no small difficulty, but even at an earlier date 
 than that of which we write, the intelligent and industrious 
 Flemings had been in the habit of using something analogous 
 to bills of exchange ; the invention of which is variously attrib 
 uted to the Jews, the merchants of the low country, and the 
 traders of the Italian republics ; and to one so famous as Hugues 
 de Coucy, there would have been no difficulty in raising even 
 a larger sum than he required among the opulent goldsmiths 
 and jewellers, who were in those days the bankers of Brussels. 
 
 The sun was still high above the western horizon, although 
 it was long past noon, so rapidly had De Coucy s men, eager 
 to gain the good opinion of a lord at the same time so liberal, 
 and, if report spoke true, so strict in the maintenance of dis 
 cipline, got through the task allotted to them, when the baron s 
 party issued forth by a different gate from that which had 
 admitted him, into the great plain beyond the city-walls. 
 They were not, perhaps, in all respects so complete a train 
 as that which had accompanied the baron previous to his 
 encounter with the Red Bastard, and his confederates, 
 but they afforded, notwithstanding, a noble spectacle ; for the 
 horses were picked beasts, and the new men-at-arms tall, well- 
 made fellows, and good riders, bearing themselves erect and 
 proudly in their saddles beautifully equipped, and managing 
 their own chargers with ease and skill, while each led a spare 
 horse, the two Arabs before-mentioned, lightly equipped, and 
 loaded with spare armor and a few staves for lances. The 
 young esquire for to that honorable station by dint of gal 
 lantry, bold zeal, and approved fidelity, Ermold de Clermont 
 was now fairly inducted wore his beaver up as he caracoled 
 
60 IR HUGUEi DE COUCY. 
 
 gayly behind his liege lord, his whole face radiant, and his 
 eyes lightning with enthusiastic pleasure ; so that no one 
 could doubt for a moment that his young high spirit would 
 effect far more than could be expected from his slender frame 
 and juvenile appearance. 
 
 They had not ridden far before the knight made a sign to 
 him ; and when he rode up to him, desired him to relieve the 
 man-at-arms called Giles, of the horse he was leading, and 
 send him forward, as he would speak with him for a few 
 moments. The exchange was effected in a minute, and with 
 a deep obeisance the trooper trotted sharply up to his lord s 
 side. 
 
 " So, Giles," the knight began, " Master Vandenkopf tells 
 me thou art a thorough guide for all this Netherlandish coun 
 try. Is it so, good fellow ?" 
 
 " Nearly so, beau sire," the man answered ; " all on this 
 French frontier I do know foot by foot ; and on the northern side 
 there are, I do believe, few better guides than I up to the Elbe 
 at least, and on the Rhine as far as to Cologne, so please 
 you." 
 
 " Well, it does please me wondrous well ! Now, sir, 
 where lies the chateau de Verneuil ? How strong is it, and 
 how manned ? Nigh to what town or hamlet, and what 
 chance of mustering men about it ?" 
 
 " It lies some ten leagues hence northwesterly, in the very 
 thicket of the forest, not very far from Tirlemont and Hannut ; 
 at least those are the nearest places to it. There be a few 
 small tenures round about it, and a little, oh, a very little vil 
 lage at the hill-foot. Then, as for its strength, it is but 
 one square keep, with a few out-buildings in a court-yard, sur 
 rounded by a IOW T wall, with some half-dozen turrets at the 
 angles. The present seigneur has, indeed, dug a new moat, 
 and filled it from a neighboring rivulet, and built a low barba- 
 
THE DESTINATION. 61 
 
 can over against the gate but the Lord love you! it has no 
 strength at all. Why, twenty men might carry it, and as for 
 help, there is no help to be got nigher than Hannut, and that 
 must be four leagues. I have heard, too, that the sieur de 
 Floris he is the chatelain, you know, sir has ridden 
 thence some months ago to join the English queen at Mire- 
 poix, where she is waiting, as they say, her bad son, John s 
 arrival. I do believe there are but scant ten spears in the 
 chateau, and no better captain than the young lady !" 
 
 " And they will be attacked at daybreak, to-morrow, by forty 
 routiers at least, under that ruffian, Talebard !" 
 
 " Ha ! Talebardin," said the man, " and the Red Bastard, I 
 will warrant it, and like enough the gray priest, too ! Well, beau 
 seigneur, however you may know it, of this be sure, if they do 
 attack the chateau, then they will carry it, most surely." 
 
 " No, no ! good fellow ! the Red Bastard will couch lance 
 no more, nor the gray brother either, nor shall they carry the 
 chateau so readily." 
 
 The trooper looked bewildered for a few seconds, as if he 
 were at a loss to comprehend De Coucy s meaning ; and then 
 taking courage, asked, " How, my lord ? how shall they no 
 more couch lance when it is their trade alway ?" 
 
 " Because my spear-point went in at his gorget-joint, and 
 came out through his back-piece, yesternoon the Red Bas 
 tard s I would say! and as for the gray brother, my good 
 companion and true friend a saint in heaven now Mathieu 
 de Montmesnil slew him in the same hour beside the headless 
 cross." 
 
 " Pardieu !" exclaimed the soldier, " but this shall be glad 
 news for Brussels. They have harassed its merchants sorely 
 these past years ; and now, seigneur " 
 
 " And now," returned Hugues, " thou must guide me, as 
 straight as thou canst ride, to the chateau of Verneuil. I vow 
 
62 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 to Heaven and good St. Paul, if we get thither ere they reach 
 the castle, they shall not win it scatheless. Is she so young, 
 this lady chatelaine is she so young, Giles Ivernois ?" 
 
 " Scarce eighteen years, beau sire, I ve heard them tell ! 
 She was but wed last Shrovetide. The sieur de Floris 
 brought her home from some place in France or Languedoc. 
 Her name, methinks, was De Navailles Gabrielle de Na- 
 vailles !" 
 
 " Ha ! Tete de Dieu ! Gabrielle de Navailles !" exclaimed 
 the knight, a deep red flush crossing his brow, and passing 
 instantly away, so as to leave him paler than before. " Ha! is 
 it so ? So much the more need then of speed to rescue her," he 
 added, muttering to himself in a low voice. " Well, guide me 
 thither straightway, and with all warrantable haste to boot. 
 I would be there by midnight." 
 
 " And it is now four afternoon, I trow," replied the trooper, 
 gazing toward the sun, the lower limb of which was already 
 sinking into the topmost boughs of the tall forest-trees. " We 
 must ride hard, then, beau sire ; but we ll be there ere midnight, 
 my head on t. I fain would counter blows with Talebard. I 
 knew him long since when he was an honest man and a brave 
 soldier, as now he is a foul thief and accursed murderer. I 
 fain would counter blows with him. He is a stout lance, and 
 a valorous a right good man-at-arms. Yet it should go hard 
 with me but I would match him. There were great los to be 
 won and glory, and no small guerdon either. Why, his head 
 now is worth forty pounds of silver well weighed out ; and 
 under such a leader as monseigneur, I fear not we could win 
 it. Well ! we will reach Verneuil ere midnight, or I ll die 
 for t." 
 
GILES IVERNOIS. 63 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE CHATELAINE. 
 
 THE knight s new follower failed not to- make his promise 
 good, knowing, as it was evident he did, even before the sun 
 set, every foot of the country through which their route lay to 
 the chateau de Verneuil ; but when the daylight had quite 
 faded from the face of the world, and the last faint reflection 
 of the vanished rays had ceased to tinge the fleecy night- 
 clouds, it became more and more apparent how perfectly he 
 was acquainted with every turn and winding of the devious 
 roads which traversed those wild tracts of moor, morass, and 
 forest ; for he never paused nor doubted at the carrefours, or 
 intersections of some six or eight long avenues, cut through 
 the wide expanse of underwood, with here and there a giant 
 tree which for the most part covered that part of the country, 
 but led the way at a sharp steady trot, wheeling his horse to 
 this hand or to that with the decided confidence of a man 
 acquainted thoroughly with his direction, and with the nature 
 of the ground. More than one large strong brook and several 
 rivulets crossed their path, offering in one or two cases con 
 siderable obstacles to their proceeding; but Giles Ivernois 
 never hesitated even for a moment, but either leaped them 
 boldly, or plunged into their well-known fords undaunted. At 
 about nine o clock of the evening they halted at a small way 
 side tavern, embosomed in the deep woodlands, and built as it 
 would seem for the convenience of belated hunters, in honor 
 of whom it rejoiced in the name and effigy of the Bald-faced 
 Stag." This solitary house, or hovel rather for although 
 
SIR HUOUES DE COUCY. 
 
 neat and even picturesque in appearance, it was in size but a 
 very cottage, the last on this side the hamlet of Verneuil, as 
 the man-at-arms informed his lord was situated something 
 more than seven leagues from Brussels, and not above eight 
 miles at farthest from the small castle toward which they were 
 speeding. 
 
 " The road is good henceforward, beau sire," replied the 
 trooper, in answer to a question from the baron; "better than 
 any we have seen yet this side Brussels. This country here- 
 about lies over limestone, and for the most part it is under 
 tillage, our horses fresh and fed, we may right easily be there 
 within the hour." 
 
 " Dismount, then, all," cried Hugues, for we shall need 
 each spark of fire that we can keep alight in their keen spirits. 
 Ermold, see that ye get a stoup or two of red wine, and bathe 
 their pastern joints and fetlocks. Have we some dozen slices 
 of raw beef, or venison better if there be any in the house- 
 cut thin, and wrap in each slice of meat one of the cordial 
 balls of choice medicaments, I bade you bring from Tankar- 
 ville. Give one to every destrier; see them rubbed clean and 
 warm ; then feed them with bread steeped in red wine, and 
 they shall be in spirits for the road, or e er an hour be flown 
 and livelier, I warrant them, than when we rode forth from the 
 city-gates." 
 
 The young esquire responded by a bow only ; but Giles 
 Ivernois, the elder man-at-arms, made answer, relying on his 
 skill in horse-flesh, Under your favor, my good lord, a clove 
 f garlic, pounded with a handful of ginger, were added well 
 the red wine. I would, though, we had here some of that 
 English drink they call brown beer or ale ; bread steeped in 
 that is the most hearty food and sovereign st thing for jaded 
 steeds I ever saw or heard of. They brew it out of barley 
 beau sire !" 
 
A BRIEF HALT. 65 
 
 " Ha ! and what knowest thou, good fellow, of England or of 
 English liquors ?" asked the knight, laughing at the trooper s 
 freedom. 
 
 " So, please you, I heard tell of it the first from an old 
 equerry who rode erewhile with Richard of the Lion Heart. 
 I met with him in Guienne, many a winter since. He called 
 himself a Yorkshireman, though where Yorkshire lies I know 
 not, were I to hang for it, but I do know he was the cunning- 
 est and skilfulest with horses of any man I ever did consort 
 with. He had store of wise saws, and wondrous remedies, 
 and some of them I have remembered ever since, this being one 
 of them. I proved it once in the Black forest, when I was 
 chased three days with thirty lances by the bad lord of Hohen- 
 Zollern. They brew beer there right potent, beau sire and 
 Heaven be blessed for it and the three holy kings of Cologne ! 
 I laid it to the ale, and 4he old Yorkshire equerry, that I es 
 caped them for I fed my good beast at every halting-place 
 with rye-bread soaked in that black beer, and may I never 
 drain a flagon any more ! if he became not so fond of it, that 
 he would drink a stoup oop-seyes, like a stanch toper !" 
 
 "I doubt it not I doubt it not at all," replied De Coucy ; 
 " but as we shall find neither English ale, nor yet black Ger 
 man beer here in the forest, we must make red wine do for it; 
 and hark ye, Giles and Francon, though the beer suit the 
 horses better, I doubt not but the men will find the grape-juice 
 full as pleasant." 
 
 " Never fear, good my lord," returned the soldier, " never 
 fear, we will do all your biddings to the utmost, and be in time 
 to garrison the chateau, and save the bright young lady, and 
 beat the villain routiers !" and with the words he followed his 
 companions to the stable, whither they had already led the 
 horses, while Hugues, who, for the last three days had tasted 
 little rest, entered the inn to seek such brief refreshment as 
 
66 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 mine host of the Bald-faced Stag might offer. Short, however, 
 was the period which he devoted to repose ; for ere an hour 
 had passed, he and his men were in their saddles and in rapid 
 motion with their good horses, not recruited only, but fuller, as 
 the knight had augured, of spirit and high fire than when they 
 had started on their journey some six hours before, during 
 which time they had carried each a tall and powerful cavalier 
 sheathed in so ponderous armor, that he weighed thirty stone 
 at the least reckoning. 
 
 The moon had risen, too, during their halt, and the roads 
 proving, as Giles had predicted, firm and in good condition, 
 they rattled on at a brisk pace keeping their steeds, however, 
 hard in hand with all their harness jingling merrily, and their 
 bright weapons flashing like diamonds in the misty moonlight. 
 A quarter of an hour brought them into the open country, 
 widely extended in rich plains, d^ted with clusters of lofty 
 forest-trees, and bordered by soft, sloping hills, feathered with 
 hanging woods and many a waving coppice. No villages 
 were visible, however, in the glimmering light, nor did the 
 summit of a single steeple glitter out from the tufted tree-tops. 
 A few poor huts, dwellings of the degraded, wretched serfs, 
 who tilled hereditary bondsmen the vast demesnes of their 
 proud feudal lords, tending rich herds, the flesh of which was 
 never to be tasted by their famished children, and pressing the 
 rich grapes never to glad their hearts with their joy-giving 
 vintage a few poor huts they passed, surrounded with styes 
 in long ranges ; or, in some instances, with large folds for the 
 swine or sheep, which their inhabitants were forced to guard 
 at peril of their lives ; but not another sign of human life 
 did they encounter. Suddenly, after they had ridden between 
 six or seven miles, and were just entering again a tract of 
 forest land, the deep loud clang of a heavy bell came booming 
 
THE CHATEAU DE VERNEUIL. 67 
 
 on the night-wind pealing from some unseen clock-tower the 
 last hour before midnight. 
 
 " There ! there ! beau sire, we are in time ; that is the ban 
 cloche of the chateau ; when we shall pass the second turn, 
 we shall be in the hamlet !" 
 
 " Ha !" cried the baron, " on, then, on ! we have no time to 
 lose, for all it is not midnight." 
 
 The road swept down a little sandy pitch, at the foot of 
 which ran a clear brawling trout-stream, wheeled short to the 
 left hand, and having crossed the stream by a steep, one-arched 
 bridge of brick, scaled the ascent on the opposite side, and 
 winding abruptly to the right, the dark ever-green pine-trees, 
 which clothed the banks of the gully scattering off diversely, 
 burst out into the little plain whereon were clustered round a 
 small rustic chapel, some twenty tidy-looking cottages with 
 cultivated stripes of garden-ground before the doors, and sev 
 eral orchards interspersed with apple-trees, and a few vines 
 trained upon the latticed screens, the whole presenting a calm 
 and gentle picture of peaceful and domestic comfort. Scarcely 
 a bow-shot beyond these, its base and outer wall concealed 
 from the road by the close foliage of the still verdant orchards, 
 rose the gray weather-beaten tower of the keep, a tall square 
 building with a steep, flagged roof and projecting battlements, 
 having a circular bartizan at every angle, with a high flag 
 staff rising from the ridge of the main dongeon. A loud vocif 
 erous barking was set up by a dozen of deep-mouthed mas 
 tiffs, as the little band of De Coucy rode clanging and clatter 
 ing round the hamlet, and many a male and female head was 
 thrust out of the latticed casements to note the character of 
 the intruders, and was as speedily withdrawn, reassured by the 
 appearance of the baron clad in his splendid surcoat. Within 
 five minutes they had cleared the village and its scattered 
 shrubbery, and stood before the barbacan of the chateau in full 
 
68 SIR HUGUES DE COTJCY. 
 
 view of its slight defences. It was, indeed, a place of but 
 little strength, as Giles Ivernois had stated, yet the knight 
 readily perceived that his new man-at-arms had somewhat 
 underrated its capabilities of defence ; for the moat was not 
 only broad but very deep hewn out of the solid limestone rock 
 which lay beneath the soil at a few inches depth, and the ex 
 ternal wall, though not high, was very strong, and built so 
 close upon the verge of the fosse, that it was quite impossible 
 to effect a lodgment at its base. The corps-de-logis was, 
 moreover, evidently framed with a view to stout defence, being 
 built in a hollow square with all the windows looking inward, 
 crenelled and looped on the exterior for shot of arbalast and 
 long-bow with the tall dongeon-keep in the centre of the 
 square, a citadel and last stronghold, commanding all the out 
 works. So absolute, it would seem, was the security of the 
 inmates that no sentinel kept watch upon the barbacan, no 
 warder on the massy more ; nor that alone ! for all the clanging 
 sounds of the plate-armor, and the thick trampling of the des 
 triers, and all the baying of the watch-dogs had failed to rouse 
 one sleeper of the castle s guard. 
 
 After he had sat, something longer than a minute, silently 
 overlooking the defences of the place, the knight of Tankar- 
 ville lifted his bugle to his lips and wound a long, keen chal 
 lenge, which, to ears practised in the science of mots and en- 
 seangies of ancient houses, would have conveyed the informa 
 tion that the head of the bold De Coucys demanded entrance 
 at the gates. One, twice, however nay, three times was 
 that keen call repeated, ere it found any ears to mark it ; and 
 when at length the tardy warder did deign arouse him from 
 his slumbers, he also blew a challenge, so heedless was he or 
 so ignorant of his accustomed duties. Before, however, the 
 shrill flourish of his trumpets had ceased to wake the slumber 
 ing echoes, De Coucy shouted loudly, " Ho ! warder, up port- 
 
THE CHATELAIXE. 69 
 
 cullis ! Unbar your gates, arid down with your pont levis ! 
 Open to a good friend and loyal. Tis I I, Hugues of Tan- 
 karville." 
 
 " I dare not, for my life, beau sire nor could I, if I dared 
 the keys are with the chatelaine !" 
 
 " Then wake her, sirrah, and that speedtly ; tell her the 
 knight of Tankarville beseeches of her courtesy that she will 
 presently admit him, with but three comrades, for reasons he 
 will show hereafter !" 
 
 " Twere of no use, beau sire," returned the warder; "the 
 sieur de Floris is abroad, and our fair ladye bideth since in 
 strict seclusion." 
 
 " Dally not, slave, with me," shouted De Coucy, shaking his 
 fist angrily at the man, who now showed himself half armed 
 upon the esplanade above the barbacan ; " dally not, slave, 
 with me, but do my bidding ! else, by the Lord that liveth ! I 
 will break in perforce, and hang thee from the pinnacle to 
 feed the ravens of Verneuil." 
 
 What reply would have come from the warder can not be 
 known, for ere he could reply the blaze of several torches 
 were visible upon the ramparts, and in a few moments Hugues 
 might clearly see upon the gate-house over against the bar 
 bacan a female figure, wrapped in a hooded mantle furred 
 deeply with lich ermine, with several armed attendants, and 
 an old gray-haired seneschal beside her. 
 
 Low bowed Hugues de Coucy till the plumes of his waving 
 crest were mingled in strange contrast with the long, thin 
 mane of his coal-black charger ; and when he raised himself 
 from that deep obeisance, he spoke with a voice, rich and clear 
 and manly, yet soft the while and soothing as the tones of the 
 southern lute. 
 
 "I pray you," he said, "beautiful and gentle ladye, I pray 
 you of your courtesy and charity, open your gates to one, who, 
 
70 SIR HUGUES DK COUCT. 
 
 for so gentle deed, will ever rest your debtor I, Hugues, 
 baron and count of Tankarville." 
 
 " Sorry, am I, sir knight," replied the lady ; " sorry am I, 
 and very loathe to answer, but my good lord of Floris hath 
 ridden these four months past abroad, and I have bound me 
 by a vow that no strange knight, nor man-at-arms, nor even 
 priest nor friar, shall tarry after sunset beneath my castle-roof 
 till he return from peril. Pardon me, therefore, gentle knight, 
 pardon me in that I seem discourteous, and deem, I pray you, 
 my vow churlish, arid not me !" 
 
 " Lady," replied the Coucy, " lady, I do beseech you 
 ope to me, and by my faith, my knighthood, and mine honor ! 
 thou shalt in naught infringe the strictness of thine honorable 
 vow. I ask not to set foot within thine hall not to break 
 bread, or drain cup at thy board I ask but leave to pass your 
 outer gates, to plant my pennon on your outer wall, to aid with 
 my good sword and such poor skill as I may boast, in the de 
 fence of this your castle against the villain routiers of that 
 accursed ruffian, Talebardin, who will be at your gates with 
 sixty spears long before daybreak. God and the Virgin aid 
 us and blest St. Paul of Tankarville, we will beat off the dogs 
 who else will be too strong for ye, and the adventure done, we 
 will ride forth again asking no guerdon, e en of thanks no 
 benison, nor reward, save of our own good thoughts. Refuse 
 me this poor boon, and, lady, hear me swear, I, Hugues de 
 Tankarville, baron of Flanders, count of France, knight of 
 the empire swear by my ladye-love, and by my patron-saint, 
 and by the bones and soul of my dead father, that, if I may 
 not on this field preserve your life and honor, I will at least 
 die for them ; that if I may not win for Tankarville and Ver- 
 neuil, I will at least fall without stain, and draw my last breath 
 under shield nobly, and in a noble cause, fearless of aught on 
 earth and confident of heaven ! 
 
ENTRANCE TO THE CASTLE. 71 
 
 " Good knight ! good knight !" exclaimed the lady, " good 
 knight and noble if ever one was yet ! Ride in ! ride in ! and 
 welcome. I do repose me on your honor I do confide me 
 to your valor I do trust fearlessly to your strong arm; for 
 his arm must of need be strong whose spirit is so high and 
 holy. Let fall the gates there, knaves lower the bride 
 raise the portcullis grate ! Room for the count of Tankar- 
 ville !" and with the words she left her stand upon the ram 
 parts, and came down hastily to meet the renowned and mighty 
 champion whose fame was rife through all the bounds of Chris 
 tendom. 
 
 Meantime, the heavy grate of the barbacan was raised, and 
 the wide leaves of the gate flung open, and Hugues rode in 
 bowing his lofty crest beneath the pointed arch, followed by 
 his stout men-at-arms and his young spirited esquire. The 
 moment he had entered the dark vault, the stately warrior 
 leaped to the ground, and turning short to one of the men who 
 had admitted him, and who had of course heard all the pre 
 vious parley, " We have no time at all to lose," he said, "good 
 fellow ; so run down thou and summon all the serfs of the 
 hamlets, and all the freemen if there be any in the place 
 bound to man-service ; bid them make haste as they would 
 live and prosper, for Talebardin and his routiers will be upon 
 them ere an hour, and ye have room enough within, I trow. 
 Get all the women in and children ; these dogs spare neither 
 age nor sex ! Haste thee, good fellow, for I will bear thee 
 out with thy good lady. Ermold, take thou my rein. Dis 
 mount not, Ivernois, nor thou good Francon, I shall have need 
 of ye anon, for we will charge on their advance with a good 
 sally ! So ! so ! Here comes the chatelaine !" and, as he 
 spoke the words, he lowered the beaver of his plumed helmet, 
 but keeping the avantaille still lowered, so that although his 
 mouth and all the lower part of his countenance was uncov- 
 
72 SIR HUOUES DE COUCT. 
 
 ered, his eyes and brow were still concealed, so that a person 
 who knew him only by sight, without being acquainted with 
 his style or title, would have had some difficulty in recogni 
 sing him, and advanced to meet the lady chatelaine, who was 
 now standing in the arched gateway on the inner side of the 
 moat, surrounded by some six or eight men-at-arms, with the 
 old seneschal beforementioned, and a single handmaid at her 
 elbow. She was a delicate and slender girl, with nothing ma 
 tronly either of air or figure, not certainly above eighteen, and 
 of rare beauty, as might easily be seen ; for her furred hood 
 had fallen back, and left the whole of her fair face and all her 
 classically-moulded head exposed to the full glare of the 
 torches, which lent a warmer tinge than common to those pale, 
 eloquent features. Hers was the beauty which, though not so 
 generally appreciated, must be pronounced far higher in the 
 scale of loveliness than mere voluptuous charms. Beauty it 
 was, indeed, of the first intellectual order ; the high pale fore 
 head from which the dark, brown curls fell off in shadowy 
 masses ; the slight expressive curve of the black eyebrows ; 
 the long-cut eye of deep, clear gray, radiant and pure as a 
 transparent spring, yet calm and self-restrained ; the classic, 
 almost stern profile, contrasted with the sweet arch of the rosy 
 lips; the bright, translucent paleness of the skin all! all 
 were perfect perfect in their unsensual, tranquil beauty, 
 while the expression of the whole was full of eloquence, of 
 mind, of music. She was a being whom, perhaps, ninety-nine 
 men out of every hundred would have passed by unheeded, as 
 cold and passionless, as a fair statue rich in proportions, rare 
 in grace, but senseless and inanimate, whom he, the hundredth, 
 would not have loved, but adored, idolized ! as a thing almost 
 too pure, too spiritual, for any earthly worship. And so she 
 had been worshipped ! and had returned that worship with the 
 young, trusting, innocent, devoted love of a free virgin heart ! 
 
AN ILL-MATCHED PAIR. 73 
 
 She had been wooed and won, and plighted, and then ill days 
 and evil tongues had come between, and the frail thread 
 of true love had been broken broken, alas! to reunite no 
 more 
 
 Two years had intervened, and they who had parted then 
 heart-broken lovers met for the first time now. She, the sad, 
 spirit-broken bride of an ill-matched and aged spouse. He, 
 the young, unknown knight of those past days, revealed as by 
 enchantment, noble, and chief, and champion. It boots not to 
 search back into their early fortunes ; it now were profitless 
 alike and tedious. Enough they stood together. He knew 
 her as of old, and worshipped as he did then, and pitied as he 
 then did not. For he well knew the cruel arts by which her 
 late consent had been wrung from her to that most ill-assorted 
 wedlock. He knew her spirit true to himself alone, when all 
 beside was given to another. Yet did he know her pure and 
 innocent of soul as in her earliest maidenhood a too true 
 wife to a passionless and aged lord. Therefore, concealed he 
 stood before her, and quelled his passions like a hero as he 
 was, resolved to add no sorrow to her sufferings by revelation 
 of the identity, all unsuspected and undreamed, of her young 
 nameless wooer with the renowned and far-famed baron who 
 had thus ridden to her rescue. And she received him as a 
 stranger ; yet as a stranger known so well by the loud bruit 
 of his great deeds, that he was scarce less than an intimate, 
 even before he had approved himself a friend by this his gal 
 lant aid. She prayed him raise his avantaille, and enter her 
 courtyard, and begged him once more to excuse her vow, 
 which must prohibit his admission to the hall. " Meanwhile," 
 she added, " my vassals are even now preparing with earnest 
 speed such a pavilion as may suffice to shield a champion so 
 famed for hardihood of mood as the great Hugues de Tankar- 
 ville, and there, good knight and gentle, there may I tender you 
 
74 SIR HUGUES DE COUCi". 
 
 the kiss of honorable welcome, the rights of courteous hos 
 pitality !" 
 
 " I, too, dear lady," answered the Coucy, " I, too, must 
 plead a vow, and pray your pardon also for the semblance of 
 discourtesy. When first I learned by chance the purpose of 
 this dog banditti, I registered an oath in heaven never to raise 
 my vizor, nor to unbelt my weapon from my side, until the 
 slaves be scattered to the four winds of heaven, and you, dear 
 ladye of Verneuil, be scathless, even from fear. For the rest, 
 I beseech you waste no time in rearing gay pavilions, but let 
 each man-at-arms, and groom, and varlet of your household do 
 on his harness for defence. Let them fetch arbalasts arid 
 quarrels, long bows, and sheaves of arrows to the wall, and let 
 them bend that great mangonel I see upon the ballium, and 
 suit it with a befitting stone. Your seneschal, if you permit 
 me to take the ordering of the day, should take post in the 
 keep, and when the villains show front clear of the forest, ring 
 the ban cloche in one continuous peal, and ply them from the 
 battlements with hail of flight-shot, arrow, and bolt, and bullet. 
 There must you be too, lady, with every woman of your 
 household, and such serfs of the hamlet as you may best rely 
 on nay, I insist on ? t, and will lead you thither." And, with 
 the words, he led the chatelaine to the door of the keep ; and 
 as the villagers came in, he picked a dozen of the stoutest 
 vassals, and placing them under the guidance of the seneschal, 
 commanded him, as he regarded his young lady s life and 
 honor, to bar the gate of the dongeon on the inner side, and 
 open it no more, save at his bidding, or till the routiers should 
 be driven from the walls and utterly cut down. This done at 
 length, for Gabrielle, convinced after much instance, ceased to 
 remonstrate, Hugues took command of all the outworks, and, 
 having placed his little band little, indeed! since he found 
 in the place only six men-at-arms and five stout serving-men, 
 
THE APPROACHING ROUTIERS. 75 
 
 to whom were added eight or ten half-armed vassals from the 
 village, on all the points of vantage he joined his own men 
 in the barbacan, resolved to charge once with the lance before 
 he should be shut up within walls of stone, and sat there mo 
 tionless on his tall war-horse, until the stars paled in the azure 
 heavens, awaiting the approach of these fell desperadoes. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE SERF. 
 
 THE morning was already beginning to dawn palely, at least 
 a few faint streaks of light were visible from the summit of the 
 watch-tower, far on the verge of the eastern sky, when a dull 
 rustling sound made itself plainly heard above the rippling mur 
 mur of the trout stream in the valley, and the sough of the 
 west wind in the evergreen branches of the pine wood. None 
 but a practised ear could have distinguished then, the charac 
 ter of that far sound, but scarcely had it been audible a second 
 before Sir Hugues de Coucy turning half round, toward Ermold, 
 in his steel saddle, said in a clear, strong whisper ; " Lo ! they 
 come now ; lower your vizors all, and follow me, silently though 
 and slowly !" and with the words, he drew down his own avan- 
 taille and clasped it firmly to the beaver ; then, gathering his reins 
 up with the left, and lowering the point of his long lance that it 
 should not strike the groinings of the barbacan, he rode forth 
 cautiously, accompanied by his young squire, and the two men- 
 at-arms ; before he left the arch, however, he called to the war 
 der bidding him see the chains of the portcullis clear, and have 
 his yeomen ready to make fast the gates at once. " Be steady 
 now," he said, " and forget not that deliberate valor is worth 
 
76 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 ten times as much as headlong rashness. Break but your 
 lances fairly with these thieves, and draw off instantly, leaving 
 me last. Here they come, fifty horse at least, if I may judge 
 by the clash and clang ; they will be here anon. Now do 
 your devoir !" 
 
 While speaking, he had drawn up his little band in line, 
 having Giles Ivernois on his right hand, and Ermold in the 
 centre, the other Flemish trooper holding the extreme left, close 
 to the high fence of an orchard. The road here made a little 
 sweep, of something better than a hundred yards, skirting the 
 verge of the moat and the castle wall which with its arbalasts 
 and mangonels commanded the whole traverse. It was, more 
 over, very narrow, ascending in a gentle slope up to the outer 
 gate, giving the knight and his companions the ground of van 
 tage for a charge on the assailants. 
 
 Scarce had the knight of Tankarville completed his arrange 
 ments, before the loud, deep note of the ban cloche, succeeded 
 by its continuous and deafening clangor, announced the pres 
 ence of Talebardin and his routiers upon the village green, al 
 though they were not as yet visible to Hugues and his party, 
 in consequence of the cottages and gardens of the hamlet cov 
 ering their advance. A loud, shrill blast of bugles, blended 
 with the dull boomings of the Norman kettle-drum, rose high 
 and keen upon the morning air, quite overpowering for a 
 moment, the louder peal of the great bells, while at the signal 
 the broad banner of the house of Floris was displayed on the 
 battlements, and a sustained and well-directed flight of shafts 
 and quarrels, was poured upon the enemy from that command 
 ing elevation. In answer to the music of the garrison the wild 
 marauders set up simultaneously a yell of fierce defiance, which 
 had in its shrill tones, something so fiendish and unearthly that 
 it made the heart of the firmest thrill, and struck cold conster 
 nation through the weaker spirits of the beleagured garrison 
 
THE ROUTIERS ATTACK. 77 
 
 A moment afterward a flash as if of fire was seen springing up 
 through the dry thatch of one of the low hovels, another, and 
 another, and then a broad, red glare rushed up from all the 
 burning village, crimsoning the whole canopy of heaven, ting 
 ing the dusky foliage and weatherbeaten trunks of the old 
 pines with a strange, ruddy lustre, and showing every loop-hole 
 and crenelle in the castle-walls, every serf, man-at-arms and 
 warder on the battlements, as clearly as if it had been noonday. 
 Directly afterward a shaft or two were shot against the walls 
 from the covert afforded by the scattering groups of fruit-trees 
 on the esplanade, but so well did the archers on the barbacan 
 perform their duty, pouring in shot of long and cross-bows, 
 with ever and anon a huge steel-headed beam launched from 
 the mighty mangonel, that the routiers in that quarter fell back 
 at once without so much as discovering the band of De Coucy, 
 which if it had not been cut off, must have been desperately 
 endangered, at the least if the marauders had made good their 
 charge, and taken a position midway between the barbacan and 
 the knight s party. Ten minutes or a quarter of an hour had 
 elapsed thus, when a fresh shout was set up from above the 
 gate. " Gare ? gare ! beau sire !" and a first flight of missiles 
 was launched against the sp.ot where the road issued from the 
 hamlet. No more was necessary to set De Coucy on his 
 guard ; " Now !" he exclaimed, " now ! gentlemen !" couching 
 his lance as he did so, and pricking the flanks of his black 
 charger with the spur. At the next instant with their wild yell, 
 and their accursed war-cry, the robbers wheeled out from the 
 cottages at a hard gallop, and for the first time perceiving the 
 bold baron, bore down upon him in a solid column of sixty 
 horse at least, with levelled lances. So well, however, had 
 the knight taken his position, that four men only at a time could 
 come against him, the narrowness of the road making it quite 
 impossible for more than that number to array themselves in 
 
78 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 front, with room sufficient for the management of their steeds, 
 and the wielding of their weapons. This, indeed, was the 
 only thing which gave the least chance of success to the de 
 fenders, yet even with this chance, the odds were fearfully 
 against them, particularly when it is taken into the considera 
 tion, that Ermold though of a high and dauntless spirit, and 
 from his boyhood upward trained to the use of arms, was in 
 years but a stripling, who therefore could not be expected to 
 cope with full-grown men on terms of equality or vantage. 
 The robbers, who formed the first rank, were evidently stout 
 and hardy men-at-arms he who appeared their leader riding, 
 when they drew out of the cover of the burning village, on their 
 left flank, nearest the moat and therefore facing Ivernois. He 
 was a tall and powerful man, above six feet in height, and 
 limbed proportionally to his stature, completely cased in armor, 
 apparently of Spanish wormanship, not of bright steel, however, 
 but of plain, unrelieved, dead black. To this there was but 
 one exception, that the whole front and vizor of his helmet had 
 been wrought into the shape of a bare, grinning skull, colored 
 in the appropriate hues, while over this dread emblem of mor 
 tality, there waved a tall, black plume, like those which now 
 are used to decorate the roofs of hearses ; his shield which was 
 black likewise, to suit the rest of his armor, was blazoned with 
 a scull and cross-bones argent the barding of his destrier a 
 huge black Flemish stallion were framed to match his rider s 
 panoply, and altogether it would have been difficult to find a 
 stouter or better appointed-cavalier, though there was something 
 awful and disgusting in the emblazonry he had adopted, with 
 the intention clearly of striking terror to the hearts of his op 
 ponents. As soon as this formidable personage descried the 
 knight of Coucy, he shouted something to his nearest comrade, 
 the import of which was drowned by the thunder of the horses 
 hoofs and the din of the plate-coats ; but it was easy to perceive 
 
LEADERS OF THE ROUTIERS. 79 
 
 what must have been the meaning of the cry, for spurring out 
 a little way before his rank, he passaged quickly to his right, 
 his comrade making the same movement to the left, and then 
 reined back immediately into the line, placing himself, as the 
 result of this manoeuvre directly opposite to Hugues. The 
 three companions of the black rider, were all strong troopers 
 completely armed, and powerfully mounted ; but their appoint 
 ments were in no respect to be compared to the accoutrements 
 of Talebardin, for he it was who bore that grisly frontlet, though 
 all but one had in some slight degree endeavored to increase 
 the terror which everywhere accompanied their presence by 
 some detestable and horrid signs of carnage. Thus one of them, 
 it was he who now couched his spear against Giles Ivernois, a 
 tall man in a brazen harness with a particolored feather of red 
 and purple, had hung about his neck, after the fashion of a 
 knightly chain, a string of human teeth, torn from the jaws of 
 living victims to force them to produce their real or suspected 
 treasures. The third, a slighter figure who wore a shirt of 
 dim and rusty mail, had decked his casque in lieu of crest or 
 plume with a thick, plated tress of beautiful soft, sunny hair, 
 dabbled in many places by dark stains of gore, which must have 
 been shorn from the head of some highborn and lovely female. 
 The fourth alone was armed in clear, bright steel, carefully 
 kept and polished, and had adopted no more odious emblem of 
 his calling than a green plume in his casque, and a green dragon 
 painted on his shield, seeming to indicate his Saxon origin. 
 Long as it has occupied us to describe the leaders of the rou- 
 tiers, it did not take the great French champion five seconds 
 to run over all the details with his bright intellectual eye, be 
 fore he called aloud to his men, to bear them bravely, shouted 
 his war-cry of St. Paul, and dashed with his four lances against 
 the overwhelming force of the marauders. 
 
 Talebard Talebardin bore him like a man ; his spear-head 
 
80 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 struck full on the fess-point of De Coucy s shield, and bored 
 it through and through, but turned quite blunt and edgeless as 
 it encountered the fine temper of his Milan plastron, the tough 
 ash staff bursting into a hundred splinters up to the very grasp 
 of his gauntlet. Not so the champion s : he had charged his 
 lance full at the hollow socket of the skull-avantaille s right 
 eye, and had it entered there, the race of Talebardin had been 
 run on earth that moment ; but just as they closed, the robber 
 seeing his peril, threw his head up sharply, so that the lance- 
 point struck below the eye just where the vizor met the beaver, 
 and tore the helmet, which remained upon the baron s spear, 
 quite off the ruffian s head. Still Talebard sat firmly in his 
 saddle till the knight s destrier plunged in, and striking with 
 the horn of his steel chamfront under the bard ings of the other s 
 counter, forced him to rear up, and then hurled him backward, 
 falling upon his rider and overthrowing two more of the rob 
 bers who rode next behind. The like success attended each 
 one of the Coucy s followers ; Giles Ivernois antagonist went 
 down, his throat transfixed above the gorget s rim, that the 
 steel-point came out, all stained and gory, under the edge of 
 his cerveilliere. Francon Von Voorhis broke his spear fairly 
 with the English rider, but better horsed than he, bore him. 
 down by the shock, while strange to say, young Ermold, though 
 slighter in his frame and weaker from his years than any of the 
 others, charged with such prowess striking his man upon the 
 crest, that he hurled him ten feet out of his saddle, and his 
 own horse outmastering his bridle-arm drove on with his lance 
 still unbroken, and in its rest, and splintered it in full career 
 against the shield of a robber in the second rank bearing him 
 likewise to the ground. " Ha ! a good lance ! a good lance, 
 and a better blow," shouted the baron, as he saw his young 
 esquire s fair exploit ; " rein up now, rein up all, and back with 
 no delay Giles Ivernois, take thou my lance and pitch it in 
 
THE ESQUIRE S PERIL. 81 
 
 the wall above the barbacan. Back, back at once hearest 
 thou not, Francon ? Back both of you ;" and though reluctantly 
 and slowly, both did fall back at his command, while he, un 
 sheathing his two-handed broadsword, prepared to cover their 
 retreat. Ermold, however, although he heard his lord s com 
 mand, and was all eager to obey, was so entangled in the me 
 lee, that he could now by no means extricate himself; for his 
 unruly horse had dashed into the very centre of the robbers, 
 who were all in confusion reeling about and in complete dis 
 order, the whole of their front rank having bee.n overthrown as 
 by a thunderbolt, with three men of the second, and four 
 horses. Well was it, therefore, for the gallant youth that they 
 were for the moment in so fearful disarray, and that his own 
 horse plunging to and fro with reckless fury augmented the 
 dismay, biting and kicking with his heels, and striking with 
 his forefeet at everything that came near him ; for had it not 
 been so, he must have been beaten down and slain before the 
 champion could assist him. It was not long, however, that he 
 remained unaided, for shouting in a voice heard clearly over 
 all the din, " St. Paul ! a Tankarville to the rescue !" the 
 baron, too, rushed into the disordered rout. The first blow 
 of his sweeping broadsword fell on the barded neck of a stout 
 war-horse, and breaking the strong plates, clove half way 
 through the neck, and laid both steed and rider prostrate on 
 the earth ; the second drove in the helmet on the head of an 
 other, and fracturing his skull, slew him upon the instant ; the 
 third dashed down a third of his opponents, but broke the 
 weapon to the hilt, and left the warrior for the moment weap 
 onless 
 
 Still the esquire was extricated from the press and rescued, 
 and bidding him ride in as sharply as he might, Hugues stop 
 ped a moment to loosen his mace from the saddle-bow, then 
 
 galloped after him, leaving the routiers all in disarray, gather- 
 
 4* 
 
82 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 ing up their dead, and succoring their wounded. Just at that 
 time, however, the archers on the barbacan who had been 
 quite unable to loose a shaft at all during the hand to hand en 
 counter, seemingly overlooked the count, or if they did not 
 overlook him, mistook him for one of the routiers, and dis 
 charged a whole flight of arrows. Five or six took effect at 
 least upon the person of the knight, piercing his overcoat and 
 rebounding from his armor, but did not, such was the temper 
 of his panoply, wound him at all, however slightly. This, as 
 it seemed, however, did not satisfy them, for although did 
 Coucy shout with all the power of his lungs, shaking his 
 clinched fist angrily at the men on the walls, they followed up 
 their volley by bending the great mangonel against him, and 
 before Giles could hinder them, who had run up to the esplan 
 ade above the barbacan, to pitch his master s lance upon the 
 wall, they turned the winch, and the huge engine was dis 
 charged. The vast beam hurtled through the air, and striking 
 the knight s charger on the counter, buried itself in the body 
 of the animal, breaking its forelegs and killing it instantane 
 ously despite the heavy armor by which its chest was covered, 
 as could have been done by a modern cannon-ball. 
 
 The champion was pitched headlong, and his face striking 
 the ground first, he was completely stunned for the moment, 
 and lay there insensible with the blood streaming through 
 the bars of his avantaille from both nose and mouth, in 
 consequence of that rude concussion. Meantime, the rob 
 bers had recovered altogether from the temporary disorder 
 into which they had been thrown, and rushed on in a body, 
 Talebard, who had regained his feet, running bare-headed 
 in front of all the horses to seize the prostrate champion, 
 nor did it appear possible at the moment that any timely 
 rescue could be made ; for Ermold and the others within 
 the archway of the barbacan could not discover what was 
 
THE SERF. 83 
 
 to do without, and those on the esplanade were too far off to 
 give effectual assistance Giles Ivernois, indeed, rushed down 
 the steep stone stair, taking three steps at every clanking 
 stride ; but he would have arrived too late, for undismayed by 
 the archery which was aimed at them from above, killing one 
 man outright and wounding several others, the routiers were 
 within three paces of De Coucy, who was beginning to move 
 faintly, as though he were recovering his consciousness, when 
 a man leaped the palings of the orchard and interposed him 
 self between the baron and the ruffians. He was a tall young 
 man of seven or eight and twenty years, magnificently formed 
 and having something of an untaught grace in his bearing. 
 He had no helmet on his head which was covered only by a 
 thick mass of jet-black curly hair, which set off admirably the 
 unburned hue of his expressive manly features. His eye was 
 dark and very brilliant, his brow broad and well developed, 
 and all his features fine and delicately shaped. In fact, he 
 was an eminently handsome man, not in form only but in fea 
 ture, and what is more remarkable, in the expression of his 
 features also, which was decidedly of an imaginative and in 
 tellectual cast, with no small portion of firmness and undaunted 
 daring displaying itself in the vigorous outlines of his well- 
 marked mouth and massive jaws. His dress, however, was 
 much at variance with the distinguished beauty of his person ; 
 it was the dark, coarse tunic of the cheapest serge belted about 
 the waist by a broad leathern strap, which was peculiar to the 
 serf or villeyn ; his feet, too, like his head, and all his legs 
 from the limb downward were bare to the weather. He had 
 no weapons but a woodman s axe and a knife at his belt ; yet 
 not for that did he shun to encounter a score of mail-clad vet 
 erans ; he waved the broad axe round his head, and, as the 
 robber-chief came on, he dealt him such a blow before he had 
 indeed observed the rescuer at all, that he had not by a half- 
 
81 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 instinctive effort broken the force of the blow by his shield, 
 he never had moved limb any more. Luckily, at the same 
 moment wherein Talebard recoiled, and after staggering a 
 moment sank on his knee, a cross-bow bolt struck down the 
 next of the marauders, and profiting by the occasion, the young 
 man raised the count from the ground, and throwing him with 
 all his heavy panoply across his shoulders, he darted off with 
 him, as if he had been quite untrammelled by a load, toward 
 the barbacan, and was already leaving his pursuers far behind, 
 when Giles, and Ermold, and a dozen others, rushed forth and 
 hurried them within the arch, when the strong doors were 
 forced to in a moment and barred with jealous haste, while, at 
 the self-same point of time, the steel portcullis came clanging 
 down its groove of stone, and all was for the time secure. 
 
 The din, as it appeared, restored De Coucy to his senses 
 on the instant, for he leaped to his feet, raised his vizor, and 
 wiped away the blood from his beard and mustaches with his 
 mailed hand, exclaiming as he did so, " Where am I ? Ha! 
 That was a perilous mischance! Where am I? In the 
 barbacan? Who brought me hither? Was t thou, Iver- 
 nois?" " Not so, beau sire," replied the veteran; "I was upon 
 the ballium when you fell ; this youth here brought you off, 
 and brought you off, I will say, nobly. By the three kings of 
 Cologne, he dealt yon Talebard a blow, that, but for his shield 
 of proof, had split him to the chine !" 
 
 " Who art thou, then ? Who art thou, my good youth, who 
 thus hast rescued Tankarville ?" 
 
 " A serf, beau sire," the seneschal at once interrupted 
 him " A mere Jacques Bonhomme an ill-conditioned, inso 
 lent serf if one ever was on the lands of Verneuil. He has 
 been out marauding now, I warrant me, most likely leagued 
 with these same routiers, else how did it fall out he was not 
 in the hamlet with the rest, when all were called into the 
 
THE REWARD. 85 
 
 castle ? I prithee, beau sire, heed not the dog at all. I will 
 account with him so soon as our hands be free of this foul 
 scum without !" 
 
 " Nay, nay, not so, good friend," replied the baron ; " De 
 Coucy deals not so with his preserver ;" but, as he spoke, the 
 din of axes plied fiercely on the outer gate fell on his ears, 
 and he perceived at once that a lodgment must have already 
 been effected by the routiers at the wall foot. " But of this 
 more anon !" he shouted. " Up to the esplanade ! Bring 
 arbalasts and quarrels ! bring boiling oil, and pitch, and molt 
 en lead! Cry Tankarville ! St. Paul! St. Paul for Tan- 
 karville !" and he rushed up the stairs, leaving his rescuer for 
 gotten to the mercies of the seneschal, who thrust him in 
 stantly into the dungeon of the castle, promising that he should 
 hang upon the morrow ! 
 
SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE EXECUTION. 
 
 THE Coucy was in time, and in time only, so fiercely did 
 the marauders assault the gates, which creaked already, and 
 bent beneath the storm of blows falling upon them like those 
 of the smith upon his clanging stithy. 
 
 In the haste of his followers to bring off the person of their 
 chivalric leader, and in the headlong rush of the routiers ho 
 ping to capture him a second time, whether from forgetfulness, 
 or from the impossibility of securing it, the drawbridge had 
 been neglected, and the gates made fast, but in time to prevent 
 the enemy from entering in, pell-mell, with the defenders of 
 the place, so hardily did they advance under the deadly hail 
 of missiles which were poured against them. 
 
 The drawbridge they carried, almost unopposed, and a 
 dozen of the bravest establishing themselves under the deep 
 arch of the ballium, where they were sheltered from all means 
 of annoyance by the besieged men-at-arms, commenced thun 
 dering on the portcullis bars, with that din which had aroused 
 the Coucy to the full possession of his faculties, while the re 
 mainder arrayed in line on the farther verge of the moat, kept 
 up so incessant a volley of cloth-yard arrows, many of them 
 being English archers, free companions who had of late be 
 come marauders, that not a man could show himself upon the 
 battlements without being made a target for a dozen of fork- 
 headed shafts. Three or four of the light-armed vassals, un 
 protected by proof armor, had been shot dead or mortally 
 wounded at the first volley, and the earliest care of De Coucy 
 
AN UNERRING SHOT. 87 
 
 was to withdraw them entirely from the front, under orders to 
 hold themselves sheltered perfectly behind the coignes and 
 angles of the battlements, and to shoot as sharply as they 
 might through the crenelles with their cross-bows, but on no 
 account to expose a limb to the tremendous shot of that uner 
 ring archery. 
 
 Himself, confident in his panoply, and absolutely dauntless 
 by disposition, he strode forward to the verge of the esplanade 
 and leaned far over the bartizan, so as to command a view of 
 what was in process below, exposing himself to the cloth-yard 
 arrows with a perfect contempt of death. Four or five of the 
 steel-points struck on his corslet, and bounded back blunted 
 into the moat ; but one, more deadly aimed, found an air-hole 
 in his avantaille, and, the elastic bars opening a little to its 
 violent impulse, penetrated till the steel barbs were wedged in 
 the narrow orifice, where it stood fixed, but not till it had 
 deeply cut the flesh on his left temple, and drawn a long 
 stream of scarlet blood, which flowed out through the orifices 
 of the vizor, and stained his bright gorget with its fearful hue. 
 A wild, triumphant cheer from the banditti hailed the appear 
 ance of De Coucy s gore ; for it was rarely that a knight s 
 panoply of Spanish or Italian steel was pierced by any lighter 
 weapon than the couched lance, or severed unless by the 
 sheer sweep of the two-handed sword, or the contusing blow 
 of battle-axe or mace, and they hailed the champion s wound 
 as a proof that he was not, at the best, invincible. 
 
 It was scarcely for a moment, however, that they were per 
 mitted to rejoice, for it required but a single effort of the iron 
 fingers of the knight to wrench the arrow-head from the un 
 broken avantaille and the wound was too trivial even to re 
 quire stanching. 
 
 Almost before it was extricated, four of the vassals of Ver- 
 neuil appeared on the bartizan bearing, supported from two 
 
88 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 massive iron bars, which they carried two and two upon their 
 shoulders, a huge iron kettle containing at least a dozen gal 
 lons of boiling oil, the dense unsavory wreaths of its thick 
 smoke curling upward like the reek of a witch s caldron. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! St. Paul for Tankarville !" shouted the cham 
 pion. " Now will we scatter them. Look to your bows, men, 
 and your arbalasts. See that when the fiery stream scatters 
 them from beneath the arch, you suffer none to regain its shel 
 ter ! Now, then, my merry men, poise it right here above the 
 channel of the Machicolles. So ! so ! Now thrust a lever 
 under it ; hook on that chain to the handle, and await the 
 the word ! Attention !" There was, as is usual in old feudal 
 castles, a broad, deep gutter or canal, running all round the 
 esplanade of the gate-house within the battlements, opening 
 through some twenty wide-mouthed vents into as many per 
 pendicular funnels or spouts, known architecturally as Machi 
 colations, so framed as to discharge showers of any liquid, or 
 fluid substance upon the heads of such persons as should be 
 collected within the embrasure of the archway below. 
 
 This archway contained a space of about eighteen feet in 
 depth by a width of ten or twelve, closed on the right and left 
 by the solid flanks of the castle wall, inwardly by the portcul 
 lis and iron-gates, and outwardly by the moat, where it should 
 have been blockaded by the drawbridge, had it been raised, as 
 it ought to have been, in the teeth of the assailants. This, 
 however, not being done, above a dozen of the boldest of the 
 banditti had established themselves under the vault. And 
 where, being under cover and out of reach of the defenders* 
 missiles, they supposed themselves secure, and had already 
 seriously damaged the grated portcullis, many bars of which 
 had yielded to the furious blows of their battle-axes. 
 
 The quick glance of the knight during the moment he lean 
 ed over the battlements, sufficed to render him master of the 
 
THE CALDRON OF BOILING OIL. 89 
 
 facts that were in progress ; and, at his word the vassals and 
 some half dozen of the men-at-arms mustering under the shel 
 ter of the angular battlements and bartizans, held their arbalasts 
 ready bent with the square-headed quarrels in their tubes, and 
 their long-bows half drawn with the shafts notched upon the 
 string, expecting the scattering and backward rush of the ene 
 my, which should place them at their mercy. 
 
 The caldron was slung directly over the heads of the un 
 suspecting routiers ; the knight had armed himself with a huge 
 iron crow-bar, the lever, usually worked by two men of the 
 enormous mangonel, or trebuchet, over the gates, and now he 
 waved it high over his helmet, shouting in tones high as a 
 trumpet s, " In God s name let go ! St. Paul for Tankarville ! 
 St. Paul !" 
 
 So terribly did his voice ring downward through the machi- 
 colles, that one of the banditti was startled and looked upward. 
 On the instant, though too late, he perceived the lurid glare 
 of the seething caldron, and the reeking steam above it, 
 through the narrow funnel he foresaw the fate that awaited 
 them. 
 
 His eyes glaring, his finger pointed upward, his terrified 
 mouth wide open, he shrieked, " Oil ! oil ! Beware of the 
 oil !" He was yet in the act of shrieking, when the huge 
 kettle was overset into the conduit, and down rushed through 
 each one of the twenty funnels a hissing scathing torrent that 
 literally blasted everything which it encountered, as if it had 
 been the fire of heaven. 
 
 The miserable wretch whose speech it cut short in mid ac 
 cents, smiting him full in the staring eyes and open mouth 
 reeled out senseless, blind, speechless, dead probably to all 
 consciousness of pain whirled madly round and round upon 
 the drawbridge for an instant, and then plunged in his agonies 
 into the deep moat where his life and tortures ended. Two 
 
90 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 more, full upon whose heads the fiery deluge had descended, 
 fell dead where they stood, scalded through their panoply of 
 proof, while half a dozen others staggered out with an appal 
 ling yell, all scathed and writhing in torture, only to meet in 
 stant death from the shafts of the infuriated archers on the 
 walls, not one of whom missed his aim in that hideous emer 
 gency. 
 
 " St. Paul ! St. Paul ! for Tankarville !" and forth sprang 
 the great champion, De Coucy, to consummate the ruin. Un 
 der the base of a huge pinnacle of wrought freestone that 
 crowned the right hand buttress of the keep he thrust the point 
 of his ponderous lever, bearing upon it with the whole con 
 centrated force of his practised powers and great bodily weight, 
 that the vast mass rocked and tottered. 
 
 At the same instant, prompt to comprehend and further 
 every hint or movement of his captain, Giles Ivernois snatched 
 up a gigantic sledge-hammer, part also of the apparatus of the 
 trebuchet, and swinging it round his head delivered such a 
 blow on the top of the pinnacle, just in the point of time when 
 the knight upheaved its base, that it went down headlong, and, 
 had not one of his comrades caught him round the body, the 
 stout man-at-arms would have followed the falling mass, pre 
 cipitated by the impetus of his own mighty effort. 
 
 He was arrested on the very verge barely in time, but sheer 
 down rushed the immense stone, hurtling through the air, and 
 alighting exactly midway of the planks upon the draw-bridge, 
 dashed it to atoms with a thundering crash, so that no fragment 
 was left of six feet in length, and that all communication be 
 tween the castle and the farther bank of the moat was cut off, 
 and, consequently, that Talebard Talebardin and three of his 
 best men who still remained under the vault of the barbacan, 
 the boiling oil having fallen behind them, were left as prison 
 ers immersed between the bridgeless moat and the castle gates. 
 
RESCUE FOR RESCUE. 91 
 
 Ten minutes had scarcely elapsed, since the Coney had 
 rushed, clanking in his plate and mail, up the steps to the es 
 planade, though it has occupied more time to relate than it did 
 to enact the events crowded into so brief a space,; and now 
 he rushed down again with Ermold de Marcy and Giles Iver- 
 nois, and Francon Von Voorhis at his heels, resolute to rescue 
 his prisoners let what might come of it. 
 
 " Kill him not," he cried, " kill him not, on your lives. For 
 he shall hang in his steel coat over the gate of Verneuil, as 
 the Lord liveth, and as I live to swear it by my patron-saint, 
 St. Paul ! Now throw the gates wide open into the moat 
 with the others, but, on your lives, save Talebardin." 
 
 As he passed through the court-yard toward the gate, he 
 strode across a narrow iron grating, and, as he did so, a faint 
 voice, as if from a great depth below the surface, came up 
 heavily to his ears, " Rescue, lord count of Tankarville ; res 
 cue for rescue, as you are belted knight and Norman noble !" 
 
 The men, who followed at his heels, heard the dolorous 
 cry ; but whether their leader heard it or no, they knew not ; 
 for he gave no sign, but steadily rushed forward, with the fury 
 of vengeance in his heart, and laying his own hand the first 
 on the bars of the castle-gate, swung back the largest on its 
 pivot. Another moment, and, his men seconding him, the 
 heavy leaves revolved, grating hoarsely on their hinges, and 
 instantly in rushed, mad with despair, the four routiers. 
 
 It might be, that they only hoped to die by the soldiers 
 weapon ; it might be that they yet had a thought to master the 
 Coucy, and so to win the castle Whatever were their hopes, 
 they endured but for a moment ; for, though they fought reso 
 lutely with their short weapons, they were opposed to the 
 long lances which the men of Tankarville had snatched up, 
 and the three followers of Talebardin were borne headlong 
 
92 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 into the moat, and there, carried down by the weight of their 
 armor, miserably perished. 
 
 Nor did their chief fare better ; for as he forced his way in, 
 striking tremendous blows in all directions, the champion 
 dealt him one blow on the crown of his cervallivre, so justly 
 calculated, that it dashed the stout casque to shivers, and 
 brought him down, as he intended, stunned but not slain. The 
 gates were secured again ; and, before he recovered his sen 
 ses, the routier was fettered hand and foot, and dragged rude 
 ly up to the esplanade, where to expiate his crimes by an 
 unsoldierly and slavish death. 
 
 But before the knight followed up the stair, he paused above 
 the grating whence that said voice had issued, and cried 
 aloud cheerily 
 
 " Who cried for rescue on the Tankarville ? If you be 
 wronged in anything, speak now and have redress, or be for 
 ever silent. Who cried upon the Tankarville ?" 
 
 " It is I, beau sire," replied the voice ; " I, whose good 
 luck it was, not an hour since, to bring you off from the rout- 
 iers !" 
 
 " Splendor of God !" cried the count, his eyes seeming to 
 flash fire through the bars of his vizor, and he stamped violent 
 ly on the ground as he spoke " Splendor of God! who has 
 dared do this thing, or who am I that living man should do the 
 Coucy this dishonor !" 
 
 " It is the seneschal, beau sire," replied Ermold. " He 
 has some grudge against this brave youth, and swore a foul 
 oath, though you heard it riot, that he should hang to-morrow !" 
 
 " Sooner himself, vile knave !" replied the Coucy. " He 
 shall change places with the lad, or ere an hour. Go find the 
 chatelaine de Verneuil, Ermold de Marcy ; greet her from me 
 as from the count of Tankarville, not from Sir Hugues de 
 Coucy, mark me ! show her how this has come to pass, and 
 
CAPTURE AND DOOM OF TALEBARDIN. 93 
 
 crave of her, as my boon, the instant freedom of the serf, for it 
 comports not with the honor of the Tankarville to owe life to a 
 slave. With the seneschal, pray her that she take order, as 
 she shall judge the best. Tell her, meanwhile, from me to 
 fear nothing. The peril is overpast already ; and, ere another 
 sun, not one of these villains shall pollute the village with his 
 presence." 
 
 He said no more, but ascended to the platform, where the 
 rentier stood bareheaded, and bound hand and foot, with a 
 stout cord about his neck, the end of which was in the hand 
 of the valiant man-at-arms, Giles Ivernois. The robber was pale 
 as death already, even to his lips ; yet his eye was bright and 
 firm, and his demeanor steady. The pride of the soldier over 
 mastered the terrors of the robber ; and he was resolute to die 
 dauntless. 
 
 He even affected a smile, as the champion approached him 
 " Well, beau sire de Coucy," he said half insolently, "I 
 would have held you to ransom when I had you in my power ; 
 and I now look to you for the like courtesy at your hands. 
 As a good man-at-arms, and knowing my own worth, I fix my 
 ransom at twenty thousand crowns of the sun, and the surren 
 der of my strong castle Trcquier, in Brittany. My men 
 shall draw off at once, and I will remain myself your hostage 
 for due performance of the contract, until the whole be paid." 
 
 " Ay ! indeed will you, Talebard Talebardin," returned the 
 knight gravely. " Even if you could give me Paris, in lieu 
 of your strong castle of Trequier, and all Guienne, Poitou, and 
 Brittany, in lieu of your twenty thousand crowns of the sun, 
 you should hang under this blessed sun of heaven, and your 
 carcase should lie in yonder moat until the day of judgment, 
 when the archangel s trumpet shall awaken it unto perdition 
 everlasting !" 
 
 " Proud lord, thou liest !" shouted the equally proud robber, 
 
94 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 gnashing his teeth between rage and anguish. " Proud lord, 
 thou liest ! to thy teeth, I tell thee so ; even as I defy thee. 
 And if I do go hence to perdition, as thou sayest, I care not 
 for I shall meet thee there, thou feudal tyrant, thou lewd lord, 
 and cruel conqueror ! I summon thee to hell, and that within 
 twelve hours ; and now to hell or heaven as it may be ! but 
 not, liar, by the halter or the gallows ! Ha ! ha ! Talebard ! 
 Talebard ! Sainct Diable for Talebardin !" 
 
 And as he ended, before any one suspected his intention, he 
 darted forward with so sudden a jerk, and so strong an impe 
 tus, that he snatched the end of the halter out of the hands of 
 Ivernois, and bounded forward to the battlements as eagerly as 
 if to banquet-board, or to bridal bed. 
 
 Quick, however, as he was, both of intent and action, there 
 was one quicker yet than he ; for, as he darted to the sheer 
 descent, with the end of the halter trailing behind him over 
 the platform, the Coucy set his mailed foot on it, half arresting 
 it as it ran out ; and, even before the robber took his death- 
 spring, he had seized the slack in his hands and flung it round 
 the flag-staff, where it was instantly secured by the men-at- 
 arms. 
 
 Talebard leaped into mid air, utterly unconscious that his 
 suicidal purpose was frustrated, until the noose checked him, 
 and he was dashed heavily against the castle-wall, whence he 
 rebounded again and again in his clashing panoply, until his 
 foul soul went to its appointed place, winged on a grisly im 
 precation, which was the last word, on earth, of Talebard 
 Talebardin. 
 
THE CAPTIVE SERF. 95 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 DEATH UNDER SHIELD. 
 
 As the spirit of the murderer and villain passed away, 
 whither we dare not say, the kettledrums and trumpets rang 
 out triumphantly, and the loud shout of " Verneuil, Verneuil, 
 and Tankarville ! and so perish all the foes of the gentle Nor 
 man race !" rose wildly and triumphantly into the air, and the 
 great tocsin of the castle tolled dismally, the death alarum of 
 the dishonored dead. 
 
 A moment or two later, Ermold de Marcy and an elderly 
 man dressed in black velvet, the chamberlain of the castle, 
 made their appearance on the ramparts, conducting the young 
 serf, who had been instantly liberated from his dungeon at the 
 knight s request, but who still wore an iron collar about his 
 neck, to which had been attached a small light chain of the 
 same metal. 
 
 The chamberlain bowed low as he approached the count, 
 and when he stood before him holding the serf by the chain 
 " Fair sir," he said, " lord count of Tankarville, knight of 
 St. Denys, and the Holy Ghost, peer of France, noble of the 
 Roman empire, these from Gabrielle, chatelaine de Verneuil, 
 gratefully greeting. She thanks you for herself and for her 
 lord now absent in the field, the sieur de Floris, who present 
 would have known better how to entreat you ; she thanks you 
 for her life, and, more than life, for her honor. She admits 
 that she owes you all, the castle she inhabits, the lands she 
 holds in fee or in fief, herself and all that belongs to her, from 
 her and hers unto you and yours for ever. And now through 
 
96 SIR HUGUES DE COUCT. 
 
 my hands, she thus gives you handsel of the same, the castle 
 and the lands of Verneuil, to herself of her own right hereto 
 fore pertaining, with all its dues and droits and service, and 
 vert and venison, and men and maids, serfs of the soil for ever, 
 here in the person of this man, Henri le Noir of this hamlet 
 of Verneuil, and seeing that he is serf of the soil and may not 
 be moved thence, ten roods of ground now set off to his occu 
 pation, and the cabin he inhabits to you and yours, Count 
 Hugues de Tankarville, to have and to hold, to give or to sell, 
 to head or to hang, at your pleasure. Hear this, all ye who 
 are present, and bear witness, now and always !" 
 
 Then the knight received the chain into his hands, and un 
 covering his head, made answer: " I, Hugues count de Tan 
 karville, knight of St. Denys, and the Holy Ghost, peer of 
 France, noble of the German, do gratefully accept the thanks 
 of the chatelaine, and this her homage and transfer of her 
 castle and lands of Verneuil, with all droits and dues and ser 
 vices thereunto appertaining and more especially this hand 
 sel of the same, this man Henri le Noir, and these ten roods 
 of ground now set off to his occupation, aud this cabin he in 
 habits, and him and these I take and accept from her and hers 
 unto me and mine, to have and to hold, to give or to sell, to 
 head or to hang, as to us shall seem good for ever. But all 
 besides these, the lands and castle of Verneuil, with its dues 
 and droits, its services, its verts and venison, its men and 
 maids, serfs of the soil, I restore arid make over from me and 
 mine unto her and hers, as it were sin and shame, unworthy 
 of stricken knight and belted noble, to deprive so bright and 
 beautiful a lady of anything of her beholdings." 
 
 Then he stooped down toward the serf, who was kneeling 
 at his feet, and taking both his hands into his own " Henri 
 le Noir," he asked solemnly, " although you may not contest 
 it, seeing that it is lawfully performed and duly, do you accept 
 
THE MANUMISSION. 97 
 
 the transfer from the chatelaine of Verneuil, your lady, to me 
 Count Hugues of Tankarville, your lord, from hers to be mine 
 so long as you shall live, to be true servant to me and mine 
 till death." 
 
 " I do," replied the man steadily, " and I will be true man 
 to you, lord count, so aid me God ! for ever. 
 
 " An armorer and a file," cried the count, turning to Iver- 
 nois. "And give me a white wand, that of this serf, with 
 Heaven s good blessing, we make this day a freeman. Bring 
 trumpets, too, and a pursuivant, if there be one." 
 
 Then as the wand was placed in his hand, seeing that the 
 armorer stood ready with his file, and that in the absence of a 
 regular armorer Ermold de Marcy had assumed the office, he 
 touched the man lightly on the head and on both shoulders 
 with the rod, exclaiming, " Henri le Noir, serf thou art not, 
 nor villeyn, any longer, but freeman and landholder and vassal 
 of the Tankarville, for my ten roods of land I give thee in Ver 
 neuil, from me and mine unto thee and thine for ever, only 
 thou shalt do homage to, for the same, and serve me with man- 
 service in the field, one hundred days in the year, when my 
 broad banner shall be displayed and my trumpets blown for 
 Tankarville. Sound now and make proclamation." 
 
 A shrill blast was blown up at the word, and Ermold de 
 Marcy made loud proclamation. 
 
 Then Henri le Noir again placed both his hands in the 
 hands of his feudal lord, and swore him fealty and faith, and 
 did him homage for his land. 
 
 And again the trumpet sounded, and again Ermold made 
 proclamation. 
 
 And the armorer filed away the iron collar from his neck, 
 and the white wand with which his lord had manumitted him 
 was placed in his hand, and a sharp sword was girded about 
 his waist, and he who had knelt down but a few short minutes 
 
 5 
 
98 SIR HUGUES HE COUCY. 
 
 space before, a serf and slave, whose life his lord might take 
 at any moment, with reason or without reason, arose a free 
 cultivator, a free owner of the soil, a free man-at-arms, capable 
 even to be stricken a knight, or by the emperor to be made 
 noble and to be endowed with coat-armor. 
 
 And so strange was in those day the admixture of ferocity 
 with gentleness and even grace in the doings of chivalry, that 
 even in the midst of the fury and frenzy of that desperate feud, 
 the condottieri, mere brigands as they were and banditti, with 
 out the walls, panting as they were to avenge their leader s 
 death, offered no interruption to the ceremony, shot no arrow 
 upon the walls, but stood there silent and reverent spectators of 
 the impressive scene, for they had recognised the person of 
 the manumitted serf, as he who had performed the gallant deed 
 of arms and rescued the champion, and soldiers before they be 
 came routiers, the soldier-spirit was still predominant among 
 them, and they could both themselves honor valor, and rejoice 
 to see it rewarded by the brave and noble. 
 
 Therefore they now stood silent and observant, nor that 
 only, but when the trumpets and kettle-drums struck upon the 
 battlements in honor of the new-made freeman, their bugles 
 sent back an answering flourish, and their voices sent forth a 
 full-mouthed cheer, even while the carcase of their late chief 
 Talebardin wavered in the wind, like the vilest carrion sway 
 ing from the castle-walls. 
 
 Within a minute or two of the completion of the ceremoni 
 al, and almost at the same instant, the hard galloping of horses 
 was heard by the beleaguered garrison from two several direc 
 tions, of one, and apparently the nearer of the two, the sounds 
 came down the road, by which the Lord of Tankarville had 
 gained the fortalice of Verneuil, and by which the routiers had 
 subsequently come down upon them the other seemed to be 
 approaching by a strong by-path leading down through the 
 
APPROACHING REINFORCEMENTS. 99 
 
 woods from the higher ground to the rearward of the castle, 
 where there was a small postern gate or sallyport, unprovided 
 with a drawbridge, the want of which was supplied in time of 
 need by a plank run out from the open door and guided across 
 the moat by a rope from the battlements. On this side, not 
 being sufficiently strong in numbers to invest the place regu 
 larly, and having neither ladders nor any other engines by aid 
 of which they might hope to cross the deep wet ditch or to 
 scale the blank walls, the routiers had bestowed no more atten 
 tion, after the first reconnoitring parties had examined, and 
 reported it impracticable. 
 
 But now as the Coucy noted the distant horse-hoof, which 
 seemed to be drowned to the ears of the marauders by the 
 nearer clang which was approaching them, then he conceived 
 the idea that reinforcements to the robbers and relief to him 
 self were at once approaching, and in this he was confirmed, 
 when his acute sense of hearing, long sharpened by experi 
 ence of every warlike stratagem, perceived that the rider, who 
 ever he was, had left the beaten track, probably from fearing 
 its betrayal of his approach, and was making his way through 
 the wood-paths, where the mossy soil gave no tidings to ears 
 that were not awake to particular suspicion. 
 
 Without a moment s delay the chief despatched Ermold de 
 Marcy to keep watch on the rearward esplanade, and immedi 
 ately afterward ordered Henri le Noir, who now as a land 
 holder had received the title of Henri of Verneuil, to arm 
 himself cap-a-pie as a man-at-arms, and then to go hold him 
 self in readiness at the postern to admit any friendly messen 
 ger, should one arrive, while he himself kept a jealous out 
 look on the proceedings of the marauders. 
 
 It was soon seen that his forebodings were correct, for with 
 in five minutes after his sending Ermold to the rear, a horse 
 man galloped down to join the marauders, and was received 
 
100 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 with a burst of savage merriment and congratulation that 
 proved him an old and favorite companion. 
 
 While he was yet observing what should follow, one of the 
 menials of the place came up requesting the Count de Tan- 
 karville, on the part of his young esquire, that he would be 
 pleased to join him at the postern on matters of great moment. 
 
 The rider, whose approach they had heard, had shown him 
 self on foot on the farther bank of the castle ditch, leaving his 
 horse picketed in the pinewood, and being recognised by 
 Henri of Verneuil, had hastily disarmed himself, swum the 
 moat, and been admitted at the postern. He was the chosen 
 page of the Sieur de Floris, who it appeared in crossing the 
 country in quite a different direction toward Mirepoix, had 
 learned that a roving band under the famous, or rather infam 
 ous, Aymerigot Marcel was on its way with twenty spears to 
 attempt a surprise of Verneuil ; and suspecting in no wise that 
 this was a concerted movement, and that the castle was al 
 ready beset, he had sent on his page to warn the people of 
 their peril, and to announce his coming by daybreak at the 
 latest with fifty lances to the rescue. 
 
 Even while he was speaking with the page, a loud blast on 
 a trumpet blowing a point of parley, as it was termed, recalled 
 him to the bartizan, and he found there on the esplanade, with 
 a white flag displayed and a trumpeter at his side, the Green 
 Rider, who now alone survived of the leaders of the free com 
 panions, having succeeded by the death of Talebardin to the 
 chief command of the band. 
 
 He now summoned the garrison in form, with all the frank 
 ness and not a little of the courtesy of a soldier it was he 
 whom De Coucy had remarked from the first onslaught as 
 bearing no disgraceful emblems of butchery or bloodshed, be 
 yond the harness of a man-at-arms, with the green plume and 
 the cognizance of the white dragon on his shield, by which he 
 
THE PARLEY. 101 
 
 easily distinguished him as a Saxon outlaw, said to be a bas 
 tard of high descent, known far and wide through France as 
 a free rider by the title of the green esquire, a soldier of much 
 renown in the field, who had never tainted his fair fame by 
 any deeds of cruelty or treason, and whose worst censure was 
 that he had at times associated with those incarnate fiends, 
 Talebard Talebardin and the Rouge Batard. 
 
 He now addressing De Coucy with deep reverence, and 
 something almost of humility in his demeanor, announced to 
 him that he had just received the tidings of the approach of 
 Aymerigot Marcel with such a reinforcement of men-at-arms, 
 besides ladders and military engines, as would place the gar 
 rison entirely at their mercy. 
 
 " He will be here, my lord," he continued, " before midnight ; 
 and, believe me, he here, defence is hopeless. However, when 
 Aymerigot is in the field, you may have heard, beau sire, 
 mercy is not either to sex or age regard is not to beauty or 
 to valor but torture and violation, the rack, gibbet, and the 
 firebrand, to the bravest, and the fairest. Therefore I do be 
 seech you, noble sir, accept the terms of composition which I 
 offer you, while I have yet the power to offer and you the 
 time to profit by them. March out in. all safety and honor, 
 with all your arms and apparel and effects, your mules and 
 horses, men and maids, and the chatelaine of Verneuil, and go 
 whither you will under safe conduct, leaving to us the castle 
 only and the fixtures. Go ! only for God s sake and the 
 lady s ! Go ! beau sire de Tankarville ! and I, even I, free 
 companion though I be, will bear witness to the nobleness of 
 your defence, to your undaunted valor, and untainted honor !" 
 
 " And what shall vouch that the safe conduct will be re 
 spected ?" replied the knight, with a grave inclination of his 
 head, as if somewhat moved by the manner of the green 
 rider. 
 
102 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 " The honor of an Englishman," replied the free companion, 
 raising his vizor, and showing the fair skin, blue eyes, and 
 auburn hair of his race ; " and who shall question that ?" 
 
 " Not I, good fellow," said the knight. " But now mark 
 me, surrender I may not, nor march out save with lance in rest 
 and trumpets sounding, the charge from any place I have deter 
 mined to defend. But trust me, sir esquire, in guerdon for this 
 thou hast done, on mine honor ! thou shalt die as a soldier 
 under shield by the lance of De Coucy, and not as a robber by 
 the hangman and the cord !" 
 
 " Grammercy ! for your courtesy, beau sire," answered the 
 other with a smile that was almost a sneer " and, in requital 
 of it, I pledge my word, that you shall be harassed by no 
 treacherous night attack, but we will fight it out to-morrow 
 by fair daylight, with the sun to look upon the deeds of brave 
 men, and the free air to bear their fame upward to heaven ; and 
 while I breathe, good knight, no harm shall light upon your 
 chatelaine." 
 
 And therewith they parted, to meet but once again, and then 
 no more for ever. 
 
 All that day and half of the long night, they toiled in the 
 court-yard, knight and esquire, man-at-arms and vassal, squar 
 ing the mighty beams and hewing solid planks, forging stout 
 chains and ponderous hinges, till ere the castle clocks tolled 
 midnight, a new drawbridge lay ready on the pavement, with 
 all prepared to raise it at an instant s notice. 
 
 Horses were fed and saddled, armors were polished, weap 
 ons ground, torches and cressets were extinguished, and save 
 the count of Tankarville himself, and the warders on the walls, 
 all else lay down to snatch an hour s repose before the despe 
 rate affray which all foresaw with the coming dawn. 
 
 He, with a dim foreboding of he knew not what, prayed 
 fervently before the altar in the castle-chapel, and made con- 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR DEFENCE. 103 
 
 fessfon, although there was no human ear to listen, no human 
 lip to pronounce absolution. 
 
 At one hour after midnight, the tramp of many horses, and 
 the dash and clang of harness, announced the arrival of Ay- 
 merigot, and half suspicious of treason, the knight aroused his 
 garrison, got them under arms silently and in darkness. 
 
 But for once the routiers kept faith the din ceased in the 
 encampment, the lights went out one by one, and silence of 
 dewy night fell over tent and bivouac as peacefully as if the 
 deadliest of foes were not almost arrayed beneath it face to 
 face. 
 
 An hour later, the Tankarville himself dismissed the page 
 of Floris, as he had come, by the postern, with instructions to 
 bring up his lord with his lances on the rear of the free com 
 panions, as soon as might be. Then with the aid of his best 
 men, the great gates were opened silently, the new chains rove 
 through the iron pulleys and hooked to the outer end of the 
 pont-levis, which was slowly and guardedly thrust forward, un 
 til the hinges fell into their sockets, the huge bolts were driven 
 in, and the bridge, hauled up to its supports, stood as if by 
 magic, even as it had stood the previous morning, when it ad 
 mitted the brave train of Tankarville. 
 
 The night passed speedily, and the gray dawn was nigh, 
 and the watchwords and orders of the freebooters arming in 
 their huts came to the ears of the garrison, but came winged 
 with no terrors, for in the dim, dewy twilight they might dis 
 cern a lance with the pennoncelle of Floris pitched in the 
 ground before the postern, telling of aid at hand. 
 
 The vassals and the half-armed serving-men mustered upon 
 the ramparts, but in the court-yard champed and pawed twelve 
 powerful war-horses, backed by twelve champions all in steel, 
 with De Coucy at the head, his broad banner displayed, and 
 his lance-points erected while four stout grooms manned the 
 
104 SIR HUGUES DE COUCY. 
 
 chains of the pont-levis, and stood to the bars of the great 
 gate. 
 
 The sun rose, and with a wild, discordant yell, and the bar 
 barous blast of horns and bugles, the free companions formed 
 for the assault, some bearing ladders, others mantelets and 
 pavesses, and covered by a cloud of archers. 
 
 Up went the banners of Verneuil and Floris, and awoke the 
 din of the tocsin, the deep roar of the kettledrums, and the clear 
 flourish of the Norman trumpets, seeming to defy earth and 
 heaven. 
 
 Then, bearing terror to the souls of the routiers, another 
 Norman trumpet answered, and a tremendous shout arouse 
 " Floris for Verneuil ! Floris to the rescue !" 
 
 Down went the drawbridge in their front, and forth, lance in 
 rest, banner displayed, and trumpet sounding to the charge, 
 forth came De Coucy and his men " St. Paul ! St. Paul !" 
 while down the pine hills, in their rear, poured the fresh 
 lances of De Floris. 
 
 Aymerigot wheeled with his own band to meet the lord of 
 Verneuil ; the green esquire charged his lance gallantly and 
 well, and met De Coucy fair in full career. His lance caught 
 in the bars of De Coucy s casque unhelmed him, but the 
 knight s spear-point struck the free-rider s shield on the chief, 
 bored through shield, plastron, and cuirass, and breaking in 
 his bosom, hurled him dead to the earth. But the Coucy s 
 charger, wearied and overdone, went down untouched, and 
 rolling over its lord s right thigh, pinned him to the ground, 
 that he could not arise, and the next moment Aymerigot and 
 his party, unable to endure the shock of the lances of Verneuil, 
 passed over him in disarray and disorder, the brigand chief 
 bringing up the rear. 
 
 But, as he passed, his eye fell upon the dismounted champion, 
 and swinging histwo-handed sword on high, he cut him down 
 
DEATH UNDER SHIELD. 105 
 
 with a ghastly blow, shearing his left shoulder, through plate 
 and mail, almost asunder. 
 
 They bore him into the castle, into the presence of the lady 
 he had so long and fondly loved he had so nobly rescued. 
 They unhelmed him he was pale, speechless ; but his eye 
 was as bright as ever his senses had not wavered. She 
 recognised him fell fainting on his bosom her right hand 
 clasped in his cold fingers, her lips pressed to his own in a 
 last, chaste, permitted kiss, the crucifix of his God before his 
 glazing eyes, under shield, in steel harness, nobly, happily, 
 his great soul passed away! 
 
 He had feared God, loved his lady, held honor ever in his 
 eye and without a taint on his fame pure lover, loyal noble, 
 gallant knight he went fearless and faithful to his last ac 
 count. 
 
 Honor to the brave ! rest to the ashes ! Pray for the soul 
 of De Coucy ! 
 
EUSTACHE DE SAINT PIERRE; 
 
 (Or, tjp Irorator nf 
 
 NIGHT fell on the beleagured walls of Calays ; but, with 
 night, there came to that sad city, none of those sweet ac 
 companiments none of those happy gatherings to the domestic 
 hearth, none of that cessation from the toils and sorrows of 
 the by-gone day, which, even under the ordinary circumstan 
 ces of human wo, render the hours of darkness a season of 
 consolation at least, if not of absolute enjoyment. 
 
 A gaunt and famished multitude, of every age and rank, 
 crowded the narrow streets, hurrying, they knew not to what 
 end or whither, from place to place, in the last stage of des 
 perate misery. Torches and cressets flashed upon knightly 
 crests, and burnished mail ; but from beneath the lifted vizors 
 there glared forth countenances so corpse-like, eyes so glazed 
 and sunken, that one would have deemed the wearers incapa 
 ble of supporting the weight of their steel harness. And, in 
 truth, so miserably depressed were the hearts of those brave 
 men, so utterly were their spirits prostrated by protracted suf 
 ferings and hope deferred, that warriors who might, a few 
 short weeks before, have been intrusted to do battle for a 
 
108 EUSTACHE DE SAINT PIERRE. 
 
 crown, could now have been stricken to the earth by a wil 
 low wand in the hands of a stripling. Ladies were there, of 
 high degree, in whose pale cheeks and squalid dress no human 
 eye could recognise the glorious beauties, for which a hundred 
 lances had been splintered. Princes and paladins mingled 
 and confused with the veriest outcasts of society, all levelled 
 by common calamity to a common humiliation. On the pre 
 ceding morning they had looked, from their ramparts, upon the 
 camp of their relentless foe ; they had seen his sturdy archers 
 revelling in abundance, his knights curbing their pampered 
 steeds in proud defiance beneath the very barriers of the town ; 
 they had seen his triumphant navy riding before their harbor 
 
 they had turned their eyes into their own blockaded streets, 
 and witnessed sights, that might have shaken the constancy of 
 earth s haughtiest spirits they had hung over the wives of 
 their bosoms, the babes of their affections, perishing as it were 
 piecemeal by the most agonizing of deaths ; they had seen the 
 dogs slaughtered for food, they had beheld the last drop drained 
 from their casks, the last handful of meal wane in their coffers, 
 yet they had still a hope. So long as they could see the 
 countless myriads of their countrymen marshalled upon the 
 distant height of Sandgate, their thousand banners flaunting in 
 the sunshine, they could not dream that they should be aban 
 doned, without a blow stricken or a lance broken, to the mer 
 ciless wrath of England s Edward. But when the evening 
 sun had sunk upon that vast array, slowly retiring from the hills 
 it had occupied so long in empty circumstance of war, their 
 hearts sunk to the dust in consciousness of utter destitution. 
 It was in vain that John de Vienne, than whom no better 
 knight had ever spurred a horse to battle, essayed to allay the 
 tumultuous terrors of the populace. Dread and despair had 
 goaded them to madness. Subordination was at an end, and, 
 
 as if that miserable town had not endured enough by the 
 
THE BELEAGUERED CITY. 109 
 
 sword of the foe, and the yet more destructive agents of pesti 
 lence and famine tumult and rapine were about to wreak 
 the remnant of that once proud community. All the livelong 
 night had the din of arms, fearfully mingled with the wild 
 shrieks of women, the deep roar of the rioters, the groans of 
 the sick and dying, struck terror and compassion to the hearts 
 of the besiegers. But even such a night as that must pass 
 away at length, although its moments may seem multiplied to 
 ages. The first streaks of dawn were scarcely creeping over 
 the horizon, when a trumpet rang from the walls in the pro 
 longed flourish of a parley, and the English watchers could 
 descry, through the mists of morning, a knightly crest nod 
 ding above the solitary figure upon the ballium. The word 
 passed rapidly from post to post, and ere it could have been 
 deemed practicable, Sir Walter Manny reined in his panting 
 charger beneath the frowning gateway. Between men actu 
 ated by the same high and gentle spirit, although arrayed under 
 hostile banners, few words sufficed. The noble heart of the 
 English knight had long bled within him at the sufferings of 
 his hereditary foemen, and it needed but a word from John de 
 Vienne, to interest him to the utmost in behalf of the belea 
 guered citizens. Promising his utmost services with his war 
 like king, he bowed till his plumes were mingled with the 
 charger s mane, then stirring the courage of the noble brute 
 with the spur, he dashed away upon his errand of mercy, the 
 pebbles spurned high into air at every hoof-tramp, and his steel 
 harness glancing like gold in the beams of the newly-risen sun. 
 " God speed thee, gallant Manny" cried his admiring ene 
 my as he turned from the walls " God speed thee and pity 
 us. But if I know the heart of Edward, thou ridest but in 
 vain !" An hour had not elapsed, before the gloomy forebodings 
 of De Yienne were realized by the return of the Island noble. 
 Long before he came within reach of voice could the French- 
 
110 EUSTACHE DE SAINT PIERRE. 
 
 man read the purport of his mission in the demeanor of the 
 messenger. The first words of Sir Walter confirmed his 
 darkest apprehensions. 
 
 " I bring thee terms" he said "noble de Vienne but 
 terms, alas ! such as it grieves me to report to such a knight as 
 thee. Our monarch is a gracious, and a brave but we have 
 worked him such despite and damage here before these walls 
 of Calays, that by the Holy Paul, he hath been dangerous this 
 seven nights past to all around him. Right hardly have we 
 striven with him to win for ye small favor. Ye must now, 
 by St. Paul, full sooner would I run three courses against e er 
 a knight in Christendom, with grinded spear, than be the bearer 
 of such foul conditions ye must choose out six of your no 
 blest citizens, to bear the keys bareheaded and barefooted, to 
 his tent, each in his shirt alone, with a hempen halter round 
 his neck. So shall he take ye to his mercy, and a short shift- 
 to the bearers !" 
 
 For a moment the head of De Vienne sunk upon his polish 
 ed corslet, and he wrung his gauntleted hands till the blood 
 oozed through the crevices of his mail. 
 
 " Thanks," he said at length, in a suppressed tone, " all 
 thanks to thee, Sir Walter, for thy good aid, although it hath 
 availed us little. But tarry, till I bear these tidings to the men 
 of Calays." Without another syllable, he turned abruptly from 
 the walls, forgetting in the bitterness of his spirit, those chiv 
 alrous courtesies, which relieved with so fair a contrast, the 
 darkness of that iron age. *~ ; 
 
 It was with an anxious eye, and a brow of gloom that he 
 forced his way through the dense multitude to the steps of the 
 market-house, and there, after a few brief words with the as 
 tounded magistrates, during which the common bell rang back 
 ward addressed the assembled thousands, in a voice as calm 
 and clear, as though he spoke of matters of light or pleasing 
 
THE BITTER ALTERNATIVE. Ill 
 
 import. A shiver ran through the concourse, as he began a 
 hum of intense excitement and then the falling of a feather 
 might have been heard in a deep hush of feeling that ensued. 
 
 " Brethren, and men of Calays," he began, " I bear ye terms 
 from England bitter they are and evil terms, but ye will have 
 none others ; advise ye, therefore, and make a brief response, 
 and above all things, bestir not yourselves to any wrath or folly ; 
 for it may avail ye naught." 
 
 "The terms the terms tell us the terms," burst like the 
 roar of a cataract from ten thousand mouths at once. 
 
 " Ye shall choose out six," he continued, " six of your num 
 ber, the noblest and the best men of the city, and send them 
 forth to Edward, that he may hang them up and pardon ye !" 
 
 Now did such a yell of execration and despair go up to the 
 offended skies, as pealed through that multitude, on the terrible 
 announcement. Cries of vengeance on the head of De Vienne 
 himself, were mingled with bitter curses on the British tyrant, 
 and on the heartless monarch, who had abandoned them to such 
 a fate ; while the wailings of women and children formed a 
 terrible accompaniment to the hoarser cries of the men. Arms 
 were again grasped, and torches kindled. " Better to die," was 
 the clamor, "better to die amidst our blazing houses better 
 to die, with those we love about us, than to live on -terms like 
 these !" The riot was spreading fearfully, and in another in 
 stant blood would have been shed by kindred hands, and Cal 
 ays been a prototype of Moscow ; when a noble-looking man, 
 with a broad, high brow, a glance like that of a Narroway fal 
 con, and a port as stately as that of the steel-clad baron, by 
 whose side he stood, calmly uncovered his head, and with a 
 mute appeal of hand and eye to the infuriated mob, restored 
 tranquillity on the moment. " Eustache de Saint Pierre," was 
 the cry, " Hear him the father of the commons hear Eus 
 tache de Saint Pierre !" and again the place was still as death. 
 
112 EUSTACHE DE SAINT PIERRE. 
 
 " My friends and fellow countrymen," he said, " I thank ye 
 for your courtesy, and, if it please our lady, that courtesy shall 
 be requited. Great sin it were and shame, that such a noble 
 people, as be now within these walls, should perish, when 
 there be means to save them ! My brothers, I believe that 
 any man shall have great mercy at the hands of our Lord God, 
 who should save this people. Fearlessly therefore and confi 
 dently, have I this trust in him, that he will be merciful unto 
 me, as I shall jeopard my life for you. I Eustache de Saint 
 Pierre will be the first to die for Calays." 
 
 Strange was the revulsion produced upon the minds of men 
 by his magnanimous devotion. Eyes, stony eyes, that had 
 never wept before, gushed out in torrents. Haughty nobles, 
 contemners of all save men of action, bowed themselves in the 
 dust before him ; and the silver tones of women were heard, 
 with the faint trill of infant voices invoking blessings on their 
 preserver. Nor was so noble an example lost five other 
 burgesses stepped forth at once, to go to their deaths, as it were 
 to a banquet. They threw their rich garbs of velvet on the 
 earth ; bareheaded and barefooted, with halters about their 
 necks, they threaded the crowded streets, men pressing around 
 to grasp their hands, matrons clinging to their knees, and vir 
 gins showering pure kisses on their brows. The heart of De 
 Vienne choked, as it were, the passage of his voice, and he 
 scarcely faltered forth his prayers to Manny for his interces 
 sion with the king. 
 
 Slowly they passed the gate, but not a shade of fear or of 
 regret clouded the glorious tranquillity of their features. Had 
 they required aught to nerve their breasts, the sympathy of 
 friend and foe alike might well have supported their extremity. 
 For the island archers crowded with no less veneration around 
 them, than had done their grateful countrymen. Earls veiled 
 their high-plumed helmets as the burghers passed ; kind words, 
 
THE OFFERED SACRIFICE. 113 
 
 and cheering looks met. them on every side. Men never went 
 to die surrounded by such tokens of admiration and applause. 
 
 But Eustache and his companions felt no base shrinking 
 from their doom needed no consolation! They stood before 
 the throne of their revengeful judge, as calmly as they hoped 
 to stand ere long before the tribunal of a far mightier king and 
 arbiter. The heart of the English monarch was naturally kind 
 and generous, but he had lashed himself into unwonted fury, 
 his eyes glared, the foam actually flew from his lips, and his 
 whole frame shook with the excitement of rage. "What, ho ! 
 he shouted, hearing not, nor heeding their dignified but humble 
 petition for grace. " What, ho ! our provost-marshal Hence 
 with the traitors to the block !" 
 
 " For the love of Heaven, sire," cried the gallant Manny, 
 " pardon ! pardon these noble-minded men !" 
 
 " For your own fame, my gracious master, for the honor of 
 our country, for the name of England, spare them !" exclaimed 
 Derby ; nor were these two the only petitions ; the most distin 
 guished warriors, the holiest prelates, the proudest peers of his 
 realm, crowded around his footstool, but in vain. 
 
 "Ha! my lord fie!" cried he, gnashing his teeth, " shame 
 ye not, lords and knights, to make this coil for the vile puddle 
 that stagnates in the veins of bas mechanics ? Vex me no 
 further, lords ! For by St. George I will not dine this day, till 
 these have rued their treason ! Sdeath," he shouted in yet 
 fiercer tones, " am I not your king ? Silence ! For shame !" 
 and without another glance toward the undaunted burghers, he 
 motioned sternly to the door of the tent, " Away with them ! 
 Away !" 
 
 There was not a brow, in that gallant circle, that was not 
 clouded, not a lip but quivered with vexation, as the reluctant 
 guards prepared to lead them out ; but at this awful moment a 
 female form, of rare beauty, rushed hastily into the apartment ; 
 
114 EUSTACHE DE SAINT PIERRE. 
 
 her eyes streaming with tears, and her hands clasped in silent 
 supplication. 
 
 It was Philippa, his noble-minded, his adored wife Phil- 
 ippa the woman-conqueror of Neville s cross Philippa the 
 mother of his son as yet unborn. She threw herself prostrate 
 at his footstool, pale, not from agitation only, but from the weak 
 ness of her interesting situation, yet never did a lovelier, or a 
 sweeter form bow at the foot of man, to bend his stubborn heart 
 to deeds of mercy. 
 
 " Dear sir, and gentle husband," she exclaimed, " to do you 
 pleasure, in great peril have I crossed the sea ; never have I 
 at any time desired any boon or favor at your hand ; but now, 
 deny me not, most noble king and husband, in honor of the Son 
 of the Virgin Mary, I beseech you, for the love of me, and for 
 the love of thy child, which is unborn, I do beseech thee to 
 take mercy of these unhappy men !" 
 
 For ten minutes space did Edward gaze in silence, motion 
 less, and stern, upon that lovely form, and upon those beaming 
 features, eloquent with love and pity. At length his brow 
 slightly relaxed, yet there was no softness in his eye, or tone, 
 as he replied. 
 
 " Ha ! gentle dame ! I would you had been as now in any 
 other place. Yet have )*)u offered such a prayer to me as I 
 may not deny you. Now have it as you will do with these 
 men as is your pleasure but let me see their countenances 
 never more." 
 
 Hastily, and as if doubtful of his own resolution, he flung 
 from the tent, and, ere a moment had elapsed, was heard shout 
 ing to horse, and dashing away at a furious gallop; as if to 
 give vent to his passion at being thus compelled to forego a 
 deed, which executed would have stamped one of the brightest 
 names of English story with the brand of deathless infamy. 
 
THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC; 
 
 a Ittfratitira IrgBtii nf tlj? digits!; $to in 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY: ON THE HISTORY AND CHARACTER OF THE 
 MAID OF ORLEANS. 
 
 IT is not within the compass of argument to maintain that 
 the progress of society, the advance of civilization, and the 
 growth of science, have not, in some degree, affected and even 
 altered the standards, by which men judge of thoughts, prin 
 ciples, and actions, as praiseworthy or culpable nay! in the 
 abstract, as virtuous or vicious. So, if I be not in error, it is 
 perfectly possible and consistent that, in two different periods 
 of the world, two different constitutions of society, the very 
 same line of conduct in man or woman should call forth the 
 highest admiration, and acquire deathless fame, or awaken 
 criticism only, and be judged dubious, at the least, if not dis 
 graceful. 
 
 I might instance the recorded hardihood of Spartan mothers, 
 inaccessible to the slightest touch of womanly or motherly 
 
116 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 feeling, a hardihood which it is still the fashion to laud in 
 Fourth-of-July orations as the beau-ideal of patriotism, hero 
 ism, and a genuine love of freedom, whereas it was in truth no 
 more than the cold and stupid insensibility of minds unrefined 
 by civilization, unswerved by sentiment, and unsoftened by any 
 of those redeeming graces, which it is said, even among the 
 most barbarous and savage hordes, are observed to relieve the 
 primitive ruggedness of nature in the softer sex a hardihood, 
 which, were it now affected or put on by maiden, wife or 
 mother of our race, would consign her to endless scorn and 
 loathing, as a woman deprived of the best attribute of woman 
 hood, and differing only from the lost and lowest of her sex as 
 inferior to them in the want of that " one touch of nature," 
 which, in the words of the great English dramatist, " makes 
 the whole world kin." 
 
 In the like manner, I might adduce the practice for, 
 among the ancients, before the Christian era, it was a practice, 
 and a time-honored practice, too, among the wisest and the 
 best of men of deliberate and long-premeditated suicide. 
 For in those days, not to die by his own hand, for one guilt 
 lessly sentenced to the hand of the executioner, or fallen into 
 the power of unrelenting enemies, was certainly regarded as 
 an . act of cowardice and dishonor ; while self-murder, in a 
 similar state of circumstances, was held an added title to the 
 immortal honor of the sage, the patriot, or the unsuccessful 
 hero. 
 
 At a much later period to decline the arbitration of the 
 sword in quarrels of a private and social nature, and, whether 
 in the case of receiving a wrong at the hands of another, or 
 inflicting it at his own, to deny the appeal to single combat, 
 was sufficient, nay ! in some countries, to this very hour, is 
 sufficient, to deprive the highest member of society of all claim 
 to social position, to stigmatize him as a poltroon and bauish 
 
FEMALE HEROISM. 117 
 
 him, deprived of caste for ever, from the companionship of men 
 of honor ; whereas, it is now the cry of that popular voice, 
 which some infatuated Roman once defined as being the voice 
 of God, that to endure obloquy, calumny, insult, nay ! but 
 blows without resenting them, is the best proof of manhood, 
 of gentlemanly bearing, and of a clear and correct sense of 
 honor. 
 
 Without entertaining the slightest idea of entering into the 
 discussion of any one of these vexed and disputed questions, 
 I have thought it well to dwell something at length upon the 
 alteration of popular sentiment in these foregoing questions, 
 the rather that in the very person of the heroine whom I have 
 selected as the subject of the following romance, we have an 
 instance directly in point an instance of conduct on the part 
 of a young woman, which, occurring as it did, in the early part 
 of the fifteenth century, I can not hesitate to pronounce the off 
 spring of genuine patriotism, of genuine heroism, and absolved, 
 in consequence of the mode of thinking arid acting in those 
 days, from any censure of indecorum or want of those feminine 
 attributes, to which everything else is now, and most justly, 
 held subservient. 
 
 I am the more especially called upon to note this discrep 
 ance, as I might otherwise myself fall under the charge of in 
 consistency, since in many recent papers, I have taken occa 
 sion to express my abhorrence and loathing of those women, 
 who, in an age of gentleness, civilization, refinement, and a 
 thorough apportionment of their appropriate rights, duties, and 
 tasks, to the two sexes, have chosen, in defiance of the laws 
 of nature, the modesty of nature, and the wholesome prescrip 
 tions of society, and in obedience to a morbid love of excitement, 
 or masculine lust for power and fame, to undertake the parts, 
 unsolicited and uncalled for by anything of duty or of station, 
 of propagandists, conspirators, patriots, and statesmen ; and 
 
118 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 have actually so far forgotten themselves as to don, not figura 
 tively, but actually, the breeches, to become colonels of dra 
 goons, and to fight hand in hand among the shock of martial 
 gladiators. Of a truth ! little as I can sympathize with the 
 executioners, the scourgers, as it is alleged, of women, quite 
 as little can I feel for the scourged, who, according to my 
 judgment, having made their election, were bound to abide by 
 the consequences, and having adopted the duties of manhood 
 had no right to complain of finding that they had thereby in 
 curred the responsibilities of manhood also. 
 
 It is to her gentleness, to her weakness, and to her alleged 
 incapacity to contend with man in braving the shocks of the 
 world, the inclemency of seasons, the severity of toils, and 
 more especially the brunt of battle, that woman is entitled to 
 the protection, the reverence, and even when perverse and 
 reprobate, to the pitiful clemency and considerate tolerance of 
 man. The moment she assumes an equality of mental hard 
 ness, of physical robustness, or of active hardihood and daring, 
 she forfeits the indulgences willingly conceded to the implied 
 weakness of her feminine organization, and having deliberately 
 unsexed herself, may properly and most righteously be judged 
 as one of those among whom she has chosen to enroll herself, 
 not as one of those whom she has deserted, in defiance of 
 every principle of decorum, decency, or nature. 
 
 An effeminate and effete, and unsexed man, the Hercules 
 degraded into a willing Omphale, has at all times been re 
 garded with scorn, abhorrence, and that disgust which is felt 
 for reptiles beyond and below the attributes of nature. Men 
 shrink from him with plainly-discovered loathing, and true 
 women shake the contamination of his vile presence from the 
 very skirts of their raiment. 
 
 Why is it, then ? why should it be ? How can it be ? for 
 it is, alas ! it is even among ourselves that the loud-tongued 
 
AN IMPROPER SPHERE FOR WOMAN. 119 
 
 viragoes, the sword-drawing termagants, who, ashamed of 
 their highest attributes, the delicate sensibilities, the finer or 
 ganization, the more perfect perceptions, purer motives, holier 
 aspirations, and more admirable powers of their own sex, who 
 in love with the brute force, the fierce ambition, the fiery ex 
 citement peculiar to us, 
 
 "Pagod things of sabre way, 
 With fronts of brass and feet of clay" 
 
 who forgetful of all modesty, propriety, decorum, nature, unsex 
 themselves even to the putting on not the garb only, but the 
 feelings of the gladiator, looking on death with wolfish eyes, 
 nay ! dealing death with gory hands. How can it be that 
 these, and such as these, can meet with sympathy, nay ! but 
 with raptures of applause, triumphs of adulation, not from the 
 men alone though that were bad enough but from the 
 women the sensitive, the delicate, the feminine would that 
 we could add, the true-hearted women of America. 
 
 Even in men, and with a good cause to boot, heroism of the 
 battle-field, is it not a bloody and a beastly business? and if the 
 state of society may not dispense with it, nor the constitution 
 of the human heart deny its thrill of admiring sympathy to the 
 brave man, the strength and daring of whose spirit conquers the 
 weakness of his flesh, and in whom the love of country or of 
 glory is greater than the fear of death in Heaven s high 
 name, let us at least limit the license of the sword to the male 
 hero, and doom the woman who betakes herself to so bloody 
 work to a sentence as disgraceful as that which in the male 
 attaches to the coward. It were a just doom, sanctioned by 
 nature and analogy for each is alike guilty of unfitness to 
 rational duties, of rebellion against the veriest law of nature 
 and here the woman is the worst sinner, as offences of com 
 mission must needs be heavier than those of omission, and as 
 
120 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 wilfulness is at all times less the subject of pity than weak 
 ness which can not always be controlled. 
 
 But, as I have before remarked, there have been ages of 
 the world in which the generally-received opinions concerning 
 duties, obligations, and the appropriate functions and fitnesses 
 of the sexes have been so different from those which now ex 
 ist, that the historian of modern days is bound to judge of the 
 actions and principles, the characters and conduct of the great 
 and good, as well as of the base and bad, in accordance with 
 the lights which they possessed and the views which these 
 obtained, not as if they had occurred under the clearer blaze 
 of recent knowledge, or under the better-ordered standards of 
 Or wiser and more decorous society. So that many deeds may 
 have been done, nay ! have been done in the troublous times 
 of the middle ages, which we must admire, must elaborate, 
 must hold aloft, as examples of splendid heroism ; though they 
 would now-a-days be stigmatized with propriety as indecorous, 
 and as indicative of feeling and impulses which must be re 
 garded as anything rather than honorable. And again, many 
 deeds, which would now be recorded, with execrations on the 
 heads of the perpetrators, as prodigies of cruelty and honor, 
 must be narrated as lamentable instances of the ignorance and 
 semi-barbarism of general society at that period, but by no 
 means as examples of unusual or peculiar ferocity, or insensi 
 bility, or ignorance of the individual. Of the former class are 
 many of the most highly-lauded warlike exploits of the middle 
 ages, many of which are tinctured with a degree of hardness, 
 ruthlessness, insensibility, and love of battle, if not of blood 
 shed, which would be pronounced in the nineteenth century as 
 purely detestable. High-bred and gentle women looked upon 
 strife and slaughter, not with dismay and loathing, but with 
 applause and admiration, and rewarded the most blood-stained 
 homicide with renown and love. The dearest ties of affection 
 
IGNORANCE AND BARBARISM OF FORMER AGES. 121 
 
 were broken on trivial points of honor. Insensibility to the 
 death of children, parents, wives, nay, the sacrifice of near 
 kinsmen to small points of chivalry, were held claims for hon 
 orable note and fame of patriotic heroism. Quarter was rarely 
 given on the field of battle until the victors were weary and 
 worn out with slaying, unless for the sake of immeasurable 
 ransoms, and men of the highest rank, character, and condi 
 tion, were suffered to languish miserable years in closer dur 
 ance than the worst felon of our days, if once they were so 
 hapless as to fall into the hands of an enemy as prisoners-of- 
 war. 
 
 Of the second class are the judicial combats, the fearful pun 
 ishments inflicted on innocent persons for witchcraft, magic, 
 devil-worship, and the like, all which absurdities were then 
 more generally believed to be positive truths, and atrocities of 
 hourly occurrence, by the nations at large, from the highest 
 and best to the lowest intellects, than are the truths of Holy 
 Writ accepted as truths by the masses of even the most Chris 
 tian communities. It is much to be doubted whether down to 
 the fourteenth century there were even ten men living in Eu 
 rope, from the Danube to the Bay of Biscay, who disbelieved 
 the actual and present agency of the Supreme Being in judicial 
 battles, or of the Evil Being in necromancies, magical murders, 
 false prophecies, and all the fanciful wickednesses comprised 
 under the vulgar name of witchcraft. 
 
 In reviewing, therefore, the first class, we must not be de 
 tained by the ruggedness, the hardness, the impossibility, nor 
 even by the fierce and sanguinary habits of the times, for at 
 tributing the praise of true heroism to many who were in their 
 days, and according to their acceptance of the nature of hero 
 ism, true heroes, whatever might be the title which should be 
 justly given to their deeds done now-a-days. 
 
 In like manner, recording the events of the second order, 
 
 6 
 
122 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 we must beware of attributing individual cruelty and savage- 
 ness to rulers or magistrates who ordered the infliction of 
 penalties which make our blood run cold, for offences which 
 we know to have no existence, but in the reality of which they 
 implicitly believed ; for they were in reality no more censur 
 able than the judge and jury of a modern court is for pronoun 
 cing a sentence, or finding a verdict of death, this year, for an 
 offence, which the milder law of another year pronounces 
 worthy only of a more venial penalty. 
 
 In both these classes of events and actions so long as the 
 actors have acted up to the standards which their own ages 
 considered best, highest, purest, noblest, they must be acquit 
 ted of all blame, and entitled to all honor. It is only where 
 they have fallen below the spirit of their time in morality, or 
 clemency, or virtue, or where they have grossly exceeded it 
 in superstition, intolerance, bigotry, or severity, or, once 
 more, where being themselves endued with clearer lights, 
 purer perceptions, and higher talents, they have used and 
 perverted the less elevated spirit of the times to their own 
 selfish, ambitious, personal, or even patriotically political 
 views. 
 
 The heroine whom I have assigned to this romance presents 
 a remarkable case in point, under both the views in question 
 under the first as regards her character, and the light in 
 which we are to regard her under the second, as relates 
 to her lamentable and unmerited end. 
 
 The first question, as regards written history, has always 
 been decided in her favor, though it is quite certain that ac 
 cording to existing ideas, a woman playing such a part to-day, 
 would receive no higher credit from the judicious or the right- 
 minded than a Marie Ambree, an Augustina of Saragossa, an 
 Apollonia Jagello, or any other high-spirited virago, whom we 
 puff in newspaper columns and praise in after-dinner speeches. 
 
BELIEF IN SUPERNATURAL AGENCY, 123 
 
 yet never dream of introducing to our wives, or holding up as 
 objects of imitation to our daughters. The second question 
 has as generally been mistreated by historians, and attributed 
 nationally as a peculiar disgrace to England, and individually 
 as an act of unusual atrocity to the regent Bedford, though it 
 is perfectly evident that her fate would have been identical, 
 if her captors had been Frenchmen, and her judges Charles or 
 Dunois, for as the winning side really believed her mission, 
 inspiration, and powers, to be divine, the losers as readily sup 
 posed them to be fiendish : and, in truth, the whole of her 
 career is so strange, unaccountable, and marvellous, even apart 
 from the supernatural wonders added to it by the one party, 
 and implicitly received by both, that it would be scarce sur 
 prising, if, in much milder and more recent times, and among 
 more enlightened actors, such a course of success were con 
 sidered by the vulgar minds, of which by the way there are 
 many in every place, as the result of superhuman powers. 
 Nay ! I believe that, could such a thing have occurred, as the 
 checking of the career of the French arms, after Lodi, Maren- 
 go, Austerlitz, and Jena, the total and repeated overthrow of 
 Napoleon, and the rolling back the refluent tide of battle from 
 the Po and Danube to the Seine and Loire, by an Austrian or 
 Italian peasant-maiden, half the consular or imperial armies 
 would have cried sorcery and the other treason, and if taken, 
 she would unquestionably have shared the fate, if not of Joan 
 of Arc, at least of Hofer and a hundred Spanish partisans shot 
 in cold blood as brigands. Nor do I think the case would 
 have been much altered if Wellington had been driven from 
 the conquered Pyrenees to the Tagus by a French paysanne, 
 or the victor of Buena Vista into the Rio Grande by a black- 
 browed Mexicana at least, I am sure that such events would 
 go further to justify the belief of supernatural agency than any 
 part of the performance of the Misses Fox at Rochester with 
 
124 THE FORTUNES OT THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 their assistant knockers, which are believed by many, of what 
 some are pleased to call "the best minds in the country," to 
 be, not only superhuman and divine, but the best, if not sole 
 convincing proofs of the immortality of the soul. Oh ! Plato, 
 Plato, if thy reasonings were well, some of them have been 
 received into most ill understandings. 
 
 But to come more directly to the personality of my heroine, 
 it can not, I think, be doubted, whatever hypothesis we may 
 take of her career, that she was a very extraordinary, unusual, 
 and in some sort, superior person. That she was an impostor 
 is incredible, and if, as I doubt not to have been the case, she 
 was a visionary or enthusiast, and perhaps something approach 
 ing to what we call a somnambulic or mesmeric personage, 
 she must have had very rare faith in her own mission as a 
 reality, and, what is more, very rare powers of making others 
 also believe in its truth and divinity, to have effected what she 
 did, with the means which she had at her command. For the 
 minds with which, and against which, she acted, were all 
 minds of greatly above average capacity ; and yet it appears 
 to me to be very certain that the leaders of both hosts did be 
 lieve in her real possession of superhuman powers indeed, 
 I scarcely see how at that day, and in the then state of the 
 human mind, they could have believed otherwise though the 
 French would of course regard the supernaturalism as a divine, 
 the English as a diabolical agency ; for such is the natural 
 constitution of the human mind, the partisans of any cause, 
 which they have once fairly adopted, under whatever views, 
 coming in the end to regard it as the true and Heaven-favored 
 cause. 
 
 But in order to get a little more nearly at this, let us see 
 what was the state of France at her appearance, what the cir 
 cumstances of her success, and what the real extent of her ser 
 vices to her king and country. 
 
DARK DAYS IN FRANCE. 125 
 
 About fourteen years before, the tremendous battle of Agin- 
 court, won by the fifth Henry of England, had more than deci 
 mated the aristocracy, and completely subdued the feudal mil 
 itary power of France ; all the leading princes of the blood 
 royal, and a fearful proportion of the nobility of the realm had 
 been slain on the fatal field, or still languished in English dun 
 geons. From that day forth, every species of calamity had 
 befallen the unhappy France, the queen-mother hostile to her 
 own son, a minor, the dauphin Charles, the furious factions of 
 the Armagnacs and Burgundians literally deluging the streets 
 of Paris with French blood, province against province, prince 
 against prince, and ever and anon the English profiting by the 
 dissensions and disasters of the enemy, to break in and overrun, 
 and desolate, and take possession, until it really did seem as 
 though the boastful pretensions of the English king were true ; 
 and as though his utmost ambition was about to be realized, 
 when he replied to the cardinal des Ursins, who would have 
 persuaded him to peace : " Do you not see that God has led 
 me hither as by the hand ? France has no sovereign ; I have 
 just pretensions to the kingdom ; everything here is in the ut 
 most confusion, no one thinks of resisting me. Can I have a 
 more sensible proof that the Being who disposes of empires has 
 determined to put the crown of France upon my head ?" 
 
 And shortly afterward, though the battle of Beauge, wherein 
 the duke of Clarence fell by the spear of the Scottish champion, 
 Allan Swinton, and Dorset, Somerset, and Huntingdon, were 
 made prisoners, threw a solitary gleam of lustre over the dark 
 affairs of France, it availed not to retard the progress of Henry, 
 who had, in fact, conquered all the northern provinces, and held 
 them in quiet possession ; who was master of the capital, Paris, 
 wherein his son, afterward Henry VI., of most hapless mem 
 ory, was born amid general acclamations, and almost unani 
 mously hailed as heir to both crowns ; and who had chased the 
 
126 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 dauphin beyond the Loire, whither he was pursued, almost in 
 despair, by the victorious and united arms of Burgundy and 
 England. 
 
 Had Henry s life been prolonged, it is difficult to conjecture 
 what would have been the end, for he was no less politic as a 
 prince, and shrewd as a man, than daring, skilful, and success 
 ful as a leader. But the Disposer of empires, whose fiat he 
 had so recently anticipated, had already disposed of the tenure 
 of his own, much more of his half-conquered and rashly-expected 
 crown, and he was summoned from the captured capital of 
 France, before that throne, where kings and crowns are judged 
 equally, in the thirty-fourth year of his age, and the tenth of 
 his reign a great king, a great conqueror, a brave, honorable, 
 and, in the main, a just and good man. Few men have per 
 formed more splendidly, ambitious acts from less personally 
 selfish motives ; few kings have attained such glorious greatness 
 through their own personal action, with less alloy of evil or 
 detraction. 
 
 His son, whom he left not nine months old, and " whose 
 misfortune in the course of his life," to quote the language of 
 Hume, " surpassed all the glories and successes of his father," 
 succeeded to the crown of his father, and to his claims on that 
 of France ; nor, although minorities are proverbially weak, and 
 the times were turbulent and stormy, did his tenure of the one, 
 or his accession to the other, appear at first doubtful. 
 
 Soon after the death of Henry, his rival, Charles VI. died 
 also. He had for many years possessed mere nominal author 
 ity of his France, and his life had been as unhappy to himself 
 as disastrous to his country. To his son he left only a disputed 
 crown and a divided country, and that he ever owned the one 
 unquestioned and the other entire, he owed in part to his own 
 high qualities and in part to the character and achievements 
 of Joan, the maid of Arc and Orleans. He was crowned at 
 
CHARLES VII. OF FRANCE. 127 
 
 Poictiers, Charles VII.; his Paris, and Rheims, the sacred cor 
 onation city, being both in the hands of the English. This 
 event occurred in the year 1422, and, although Henry was an 
 infant, and when even he arrived at manhood, little better than 
 imbecile, so splendid was the administration of the protector, 
 the duke of Bedford, and so great the talents of the renowned 
 generals who commanded under him, Somerset, Warwick, 
 Arundel, Salisbury, Suffolk, and the still greater Talbot, that 
 they not only held Guienne, the capital, and all the northern 
 provinces, but pressed the war with vigor in the south and west, 
 so that this position of Charles VI. had -become almost desper 
 ate, when the disastrous battle of Verneuil, second only in the 
 slaughter of nobility to the fields of Cressy, Poictiers, and 
 Agincourt, reduced him to the last extremity, and to such a 
 state of hopeless poverty and depression, that not only was he 
 compelled to abandon every effort at sustaining the parade of a 
 court, but was scarcely enabled to procure daily subsistence for 
 himself and a few faithful followers. 
 
 Just at this moment, some dissensions occurred in the Eng 
 lish ministry, and the duke of Bedford was recalled home, his 
 place being ably filled by Suffolk, and, although the duke of 
 Brittany was beginning to look distastefully on the English al 
 liance, and Montargis was relieved by the bastard of Orleans, 
 better known in after-days as the count of Dunois, so little 
 effect did the change of hands appear to have produced on the 
 conduct of the war, that Orleans, the most important city of 
 France, in the possession of Charles, was closely invested and 
 on the point of yielding, while the king himself was dissuaded 
 from retreating into the remote provinces of Dauphiny and Lan- 
 guedoc by the entreaties only of the fair but frail Agnes Sorel. 
 
 At this time an incident occurred so strange, and with con 
 sequences so extraordinary, that once can scarce wonder at 
 the credulity of a French historian, who, describing the first 
 
328 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 appearance of Joan on the scene of history, commences thus : 
 " But at this crisis the Lord, not desiring that France should 
 be entirely undone, sent a woman," &c., &c., evidently esteem 
 ing her mission as positive and direct as that of St. John, or 
 any of the holy apostles nor, I conceive, is it all to be doubt 
 ed that she herself, and those to whom she revealed her vis 
 ions, were as confident of her divine inspiration and superhu 
 man power. 
 
 She was a poor girl, of the small village of Domremi, near 
 Vaucouleurs, in Lorraine, of the very lowest class of society. 
 She is variously stated to have been a hostler-wench at an inn, 
 and shepherdess ; but of irreproachable conduct, and undoubted 
 virtue. It is said that she had manifested no singularity nor 
 given any tokens of possessing superior genius, until she was 
 seized by a sudden idea that she saw visions and heard voices 
 commissioning her to re-establish the throne of France, and 
 expel the foreign invaders. She first made her way to the 
 presence of Baudricourt, the governor of Vaucouleurs, to whom 
 she declared her mission, and, although he at first treated her 
 with neglect, she at length so far convinced him that he sent 
 her on with an escort to the French court, at the little town of 
 Chinon. Here, it is asserted, that she at once recognised the 
 king, though purposely disguised and surrounded by his cour 
 tiers, and that she claimed and described, even to its minutest 
 ornaments, and the place where it had long lain concealed, a 
 curious antique sword, which was found in the church of St. 
 Catharine de Fierbois. Hume, who is ever skeptical, leans to 
 the view that all this was jugglery, not exactly on Joan s part, 
 but on that of the French king and Dunois, who were deter 
 mined to use her as an instrument ; and to the talents and skill 
 of the leaders, whose tactics he supposed were followed, Joan 
 being merely led as a puppet through the host, he ascribes all 
 that follows. 
 
BELIEF IN HER DIVINE MISSION. 129 
 
 This appears to me to be in no degree tenable. In the first 
 place, no person can be half-real enthusiast, half-impostor 
 the one or other phase of character must prevail the impostor 
 who knows his own jugglery, can not believe in his own su 
 pernatural power ; the enthusiast who does believe, has no need 
 to have recourse to imposture. Secondly, so general a reli 
 gious imposture, to which jurists, doctors of divinity, and igno 
 rant, superstitious warriors must have lent themselves, is 
 wholly inconsistent with the spirit of the age, and the charac 
 ter of the popular mind. Thirdly^ Dunois, and the other French 
 leaders had been daily and hourly beaten, and had never shown 
 either the talents or the force which they subsequently dis 
 played. Fourthly, it is little likely that on the faith of so shal 
 low and childish an imposture as dressing up a simple-village 
 girl, not only sane but shrewd and wise men, who had not pre 
 viously ventured to undertake the most trivial sally, now boldly 
 should set armies in the field, carry out enterprises of great 
 pith and moment, and utterly paralyze foes so able as Suffolk, 
 Talbot, Scales, and Falstoffe, by a series of well-directed blows, 
 stunningly delivered and rapidly followed up. Fifthly, it is 
 incredible, that, if the French had been such fools as to try so 
 silly a trick, if a mere trick, the English could be so miserably 
 gulled. And lastly, the empty and useless pageant of the pro 
 cession to Rheims, the whole distance through the heart of 
 an enemy s country and in the midst of his hostile and undis 
 mayed garrisons, can not be accounted for by political, military, 
 or rational grounds, or by any supposition, unless this, that 
 every person of the French army, and of the English army 
 also, was thoroughly convinced of her supernatural power, and 
 irresistible prowess. 
 
 This supposition, accounts for the attempt, and accounts also 
 for its success. And such a conviction only could be wrought 
 upon such minds as those of Charles VII., and Dunois, of Suf- 
 
 6* 
 
130 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 folk, and Sir John Talbot, by a person who did really possess 
 extraordinary talents, extraordinary enthusiasm, and did really 
 perform extraordinary things. No one now believes that 
 Oliver Cromwell really heard a voice, at the dead of night, 
 telling him in his obscure boyhood that he should be " not 
 king, but the first man in England," nor is it probable that John 
 Hampden then believed the vision, but he did believe the en 
 thusiasm, and did believe the fact, as he told Sir Philip War 
 wick, that " yon sloven would be the greatest man in England." 
 The belief made the enthusiasm of the man the enthusiasm 
 of the man made the belief of the followers, and the enthusiasm 
 and the belief excited, made the imagined vision to come to 
 pass in a palpable fact. 
 
 The facts are that she relieved Orleans, in the first place giv 
 ing up her own opinion to the advice of Dunois, hers being the 
 more daring council that she then threw herself into the city, 
 marching, according to her own plan, directly through the Eng 
 lish lines, the hitherto victorious Britons, before a dozen of 
 whom hundreds of French had been daily flying in panic terror, 
 not daring to attack her that she stormed the lines of Suf 
 folk, and utterly defeated his whole army with prodigious loss 
 that, then, following up her successes, she stormed Jergeau, 
 whither the regent had retired, carried the town by assault, 
 Suffolk himself being obliged to surrender himself, and that a 
 few days after, she again attacked the rear of the late victori 
 ous forces, with such headlong valor, that the redoubted Falstoffe 
 fled like a poltroon before her, and was deprived of his garter 
 for cowardice, while Talbot and Scales were made prisoners, 
 and the whole army and cause of the English utterly disor 
 ganized and lost. 
 
 These are not the acts of an impostor, nor of men palm 
 ing an enthusiast, in whom they did not believe, on inferior 
 minds. Where did Charles and Dunois gain the audacity, the 
 
CONDEMNED TO BE BURNT. 131 
 
 skill, and the fortune to recover all that they had lost in fourteen 
 years, in as many days where, indeed, if not in the convic 
 tion that Joan s enthusiasm, visionary possession, and energetic 
 will were indeed of Heaven, and themselves consequently des 
 tined to be victorious ? 
 
 The rest of her career is explained yet more easily on the 
 same hypothesis. She next declared that her further mission 
 was to conduct Charles in triumph, at the head of a small 
 force, to Rheims, across one half of the breadth of France, and 
 there to crown him with the due ceremonial of the kings of 
 France ; and this, too, she accomplished without a banner 
 raised, a trumpet blown, or a spear couched against her. The 
 attempt justified the success, for the very rashness of the un 
 dertaking and inadequacy of the object increased the panic of 
 the English. But in what possible light must we regard the 
 statesmen and warriors whom Hume believes to have been the 
 moving actors of this wonderful drama ? If we believe them, 
 when it was their business to have hunted the invaders from 
 post to post while their panic was fresh upon them, until they 
 left the land they had so long held as their own if we be 
 lieve them, I say, at such a time, to have risked all they had won, 
 and their army and king to boot, for the sake of a mere empty 
 pageant, which might well have followed, but absurdly pre 
 ceded the conquest of the enemy. 
 
 This done, Joan declared her mission ended, her powers 
 revoked, and made public her desire to resume the dress of her 
 sex and her former condition. She was overruled, and a few- 
 days afterward taken in a sally from Compiegne, by John of 
 Luxembourg, and transferred to the duke of Bedford, by whom 
 she was delivered over to the ecclesiastical power, tried by a 
 court of bishops at Rouen, in which only one Englishman 
 sat, and sentenced to be burned to death as a witch. As 
 sailed on all sides by doctors and divines, by promises and 
 
132 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 threats, and naturally and consistently doubting, from her fall, the 
 origin of her former successes, she declared her visions to be il 
 lusions, and her powers impostures, and her sentence was there 
 upon commuted. Having, however, resumed male habits, said 
 to have been purposely thrown in her way, and again returned to 
 her former belief in her supernatural inspiration, probably from 
 the idea that the male habiliments were supernaturally sent to 
 her, she was adjudged a relapsed heretic and magician, and 
 was cruelly, but in direct accordance with the notions and 
 ideas of the age, burnt to ashes in the market-place at Rouen. 
 
 I see no cause to agree in the belief that any peculiar cru 
 elty excited, or that any political tactics prompted either 
 Bedford or her judges, nor that it was any " pretence," as 
 Hume terms it, " of heresy and magic," by which she was 
 consigned to the flames ; but that it was as full a belief on the 
 part of her slayers that she was a foul and fiendish wizard, 
 as her own conviction, and that of her followers, was full and 
 certain that she was a messenger of Heaven. 
 
 Heroine and enthusiast she was, spotless of life, daunt 
 less of courage, hapless of death, but most forturiate of glory 
 certainly an agent and minister of Providence, not by divine 
 mission, but by the working of natural causes for she re 
 deemed the throne of France to its native owners, never again 
 to be seriously disputed by an English claimant. Few hero 
 ines have a fairer title to the name, and none a fame more spot 
 less. 
 
DARK DAYS IN FRANCE. 133 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE MISSION. 
 
 "Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? 
 Thou with an eagle art inspired then. 
 Helen, the mother of the great Constantino, 
 Nor yet Saint Philip s daughter, were like thee. 
 Bright star of Venus, fallen down on earth, 
 How may I reverently worship thee enough?" 
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 THE destinies of France were at the lowest. From the 
 rapid waters of the Rhine to the stormy coasts of the Atlantic, 
 from Calays to the heights of Jura, there was but a single 
 thought, a single terror among the inhabitants of that fair 
 and fertile kingdom the English! the victorious English! 
 Never, since the days of Charles the Bold, when the roving 
 Northmen had moored their galleys on the coast, and erected 
 their raven-standards on the conquered walls of Neustria 
 never had the arm of foreign invader so paralyzed the efforts, 
 so overawed the high and cheerful courage of that warlike 
 people. Paris herself was garrisoned by the victorious arch 
 ers of the Ocean Isle, and scarce an echo throughout the 
 western provinces but had sent back the twanging of their 
 bows and the deep terrors of their Saxon war-cry. Force and 
 guile had hitherto been tried in vain. If, for a moment, at the 
 death of some bold leader on the field of his renown Fortune 
 had seemed to smile, it was but to efface the recollection of 
 that transitory gleam in the dark sorrows that succeeded it. 
 Salisbury, indeed, had fallen ; but, in his place, the stern and 
 politic Bedford, than whom a wiser regent never swayed the 
 
134 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 terrible engine of military power, lorded it over the crouching 
 natives with equal ability and tenfold rigor ; nor could the 
 united force of France and Scotland, the emulous and well- 
 matched valor of Douglas and the bold Dunois, effect more 
 than a temporary check on men to whom battle had become 
 the very breath of life, and victory the certain consequence of 
 battle. 
 
 It was at this fatal period, when, the English lion " camped 
 in gold" over the subject towers of every town or castle from 
 Brest to Calays when the feeble garrison of Orleans alone 
 maintained a protracted resistance the resistance of despair 
 when the battle of the Herrings had put an end, even in the 
 boldest spirit, to the hope of raising that last siege when the 
 trembling parliament was convened at Poictiers, and the court 
 dwelt, shorn of half its honors, in the petty town of Chinon 
 when the aisles of Notre-Dame were polluted by mass and 
 requiem chanted in the strange dialect of the invaders. It 
 was at this stormy period that the sire de Baudricourt sat alone 
 in his ancient chateau of Vancouleurs Night had already 
 closed around, and the small turret-chamber, in which he sat, 
 was dark and gloomy ; but not more gloomy nor more dark 
 than was the visage of the stern old governor. No lights 
 had yet been brought, and the embers of an expiring fire 
 scarce threw their fitful illuminations beyond the jambs of the 
 waste and tomb-like chimney. A table covered with a faded 
 carpet, and strewn with two or three huge folios, treatises on 
 the art of war, and several rude scrawls, the nearest approach 
 to maps of which that remote age was capable, occupied the 
 centre of the chamber ; and beside it in a high chair of an 
 tique oak, the tall, spare form of the old warrior, his arms 
 folded and his teeth set, brooded over the misfortunes of his 
 sovereign and of his native land. A loose robe of sad-colored 
 velvet, gathered round his waist by a broad belt of buff 
 
THE GOVERNOR OF VANCOULEURS. 135 
 
 from which protruded the hilt of a long and formidable pon 
 iard, and a bonnet of the same materials carelessly thrown 
 upon his time-blanched locks, composed his present attire ; 
 though at a few paces distance from his seat, a heart-shaped 
 shield, dinted by many a shrewd blow, and a huge two-handled 
 espaldron, at least five feet in length, on which might be 
 traced, even through the growing darkness, as the red glare 
 of the wood-fire rose and fell in transient gleams upon its 
 corsleted hilt and pondrous blade, the stains of recent slaugh 
 ter, together with a crested burgonet and shirt of linked mail, 
 lying in confusion in a recess formed by an embrasure, proved 
 that the sire of Baudricourt had not as yet neglected the prac 
 tice or the theory of war, nor forgotten in his old age the les- 
 sons of hard experience, which he had been taught in the 
 well-fought, though fatal field of Agincourt, and many a disas 
 trous battle since. 
 
 The shades of night fell darker yet and darker, the clash 
 of arms without, and a repeated flourish of trumpets, mingled 
 with the booming of the kettle-drums, announced the setting 
 of the watch, but failed to arouse the old man from the stupor, 
 which, it would seem, had fallen on his usually elastic and 
 energetic spirit. There he sat alone in the deepening gloom 
 like some desolate and foiled magician, forsaken by the very 
 friends who had ministered to his success, but ministered only 
 to precipitate his fall, gazing with a fixed and stormy eye upon 
 the vacant darkness. A quick step was heard without, the 
 fastenings of the door jingled beneath the pressure of a hasty 
 hand, the creaking leaves flew open with a jar that might have 
 roused a thousand sleepers buried in the deepest slumbers of 
 the flesh ; but his were slumbers of the mind, nor did he start 
 from his chair until the light and reverential touch of the 
 squire, who stood beside his elbow, had thoroughly dispelled 
 the waking dreams which had so completely enthralled his mind. 
 
136 THE FORTUNES OP THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 " Damian," he cried, as soon as he became aware of the 
 intruder s presence, " Damian, what wouldst them? hast thou 
 more ill-tidings for our ear ? For, by my faith, all tidings have 
 been ill for France, these six months. Alas ! alas ! poor 
 France ! Unhappy country !" and he smote his breast heavily 
 as the full sense of all her miseries flashed upon his mind, 
 stunned as it had been before, and paralyzed by the news of 
 the last defeat. 
 
 " Not so, beau sire," replied the squire ; " but there is one 
 below urgent to see your valor on matters, it is rumored, of 
 high import." 
 
 " Admit him on the instant," was the hasty answer of the 
 impatient baron "on the instant! Sir, this is no time for 
 loitering ; and let those lazy knaves bring lights and mend the 
 fire. This is cold cheer! Look to it, sir, and speedily." 
 
 The dormant spark once kindled in his bosom, he did not 
 again sink into despondency or gloom ; and, till the return of 
 the squire bearing a pair of huge waxen torches, flaming and 
 smoking in the sudden gusts of wind that wandered through 
 those old apartments, he strode impatiently, almost fiercely, 
 across the narrow floor, the solid timbers groaning beneath his 
 still firm stride, now muttering to himself, now playing with 
 his dagger-hilt, and now pausing awhile to mark if he could 
 catch the footsteps of the new-comer. " They come not yet. 
 Tete Dieu, the loitering knaves. Heaven s malison upon 
 them ! And it may be despatches from Poictiers ! Would 
 that it were would that it were ! Ma foi, this garrison duty, 
 and these dull skirmishes with the base Flemish hogs upon 
 the frontier, are foul checks on the spirit of a gentleman of 
 France ! Would that it were despatches, that old Baudricourt 
 might see once more the waving of the oriflamme, the ban 
 and arriere ban of France, and stand some chance of falling, 
 as brave men should fall, among the splintering of lances, and 
 
THE UNKNOWN GUEST. 137 
 
 the gallopping of war-steeds, the fluttering of pennons, and the 
 merry blaze of trumpets ; but, mea culpa ! mea culpa ! what 
 have I said or thought? The best, the bravest knight is 
 enough honored enough, did I say? is too much honored, 
 so he may serve his country !" 
 
 The muttered soliloquy of the baron was interrupted by the 
 entrance of a dozen of serving-men, not in rich liveries or 
 peaceful garb, but helmed and booted, with sword on the hips, 
 and the spur on the heel, ready alike for the service of their 
 lord in the hall of banquet, or on the field of carnage, and 
 prompt to execute his bidding almost before it was expressed. 
 Fresh logs were heaped upon the hearth, which soon diffused 
 a broad and cheerful glare athwart the Gothic niches and 
 richly-tinted casements ; a dozen lights glittered around the 
 walls ; the worm-eaten folios and dusty parchments disap 
 peared from the central table, and in their place two massive 
 flagons of burnished silver, with as many goblets of a yet more 
 precious metal, sent back the mingled light of fire and torches 
 in a dozen streams of bright reflection. Scarce were these 
 dispositions of the chamber completed, ere Damian returned, 
 accompanied by the stranger whose arrival had created so 
 much anxiety. This was a low, slight figure, apparently a 
 stripling of some eighteen years, wrapped in a long, dark 
 mantle, which fully answered the.purpose of a disguise, as it 
 trailed upon the ground behind, while in front it hung far be 
 low the ankles ; a Spanish hat, much slouched over the face, 
 with a black, drooping feather, concealed the features of the 
 wearer as completely as the mantle did his form. Entering 
 the turret-chamber, the figure advanced quickly for about three 
 paces, then, without uncloaking, or even removing his hat, 
 although the stately baron had uncovered his locks of snow, 
 in deference to his guest, turned abruptly to the squire, who 
 had paused upon the threshold, motioning him to retire. 
 
138 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 " Not I, by Heaven !" muttered the favorite attendant ; " not 
 I, and that, too, at a nameless and most discourteous stranger s 
 bidding." 
 
 " Damian !" exclaimed the old baron, with a stern and sol 
 emn emphasis, " Damian, begone." 
 
 "My master! my honored, my adored master," cried the 
 squire flinging himself at the feet of the lord he had followed 
 in many a bloody day, and wetting his buskins with honest 
 tears "anything! anything but this! Bid me not leave 
 you and alone with yon dark stranger. Bethink you, sir, for 
 France s sake, if not for Damian s, or your own bethink you ! 
 It is scarce three months since the bold knight of Bracquemont 
 was murthered basely murthered on his own hearthstone, 
 and by a nameless guest. Who knows not, too, of the captal 
 de Buche kidnapped in his princely hall, and borne from the 
 midst of his own retainers to an eternal dungeon ? Let me 
 stay with you, beau sire ; a Villeneuve has no ears to hear, 
 nor eyes to see, nor hand to strike, save at the bidding of a 
 Baudricourt." 
 
 " This must not be, good Damian," replied the knight, but 
 no longer in accents of anger ; " this must not be ! Your fears 
 for me have overpowered your wonted penetration. See, tis 
 a stripling a mere stripling! Why, this old arm could quell 
 hath quelled a score of such, and thought it light work, too, 
 good Damian. So ! my faithful friend. Is your old lord so 
 fallen in your estimation that you dare not trust him to his own 
 good blade against a single boy ? Why, I have known the 
 day you would have borne our gage of battle to Roland, and 
 pledged your hope of golden spurs upon our battle ! Leave us 
 awhile, good Damian ! It needs not this away !" 
 
 Reluctantly and slowly did the trusty squire withdraw, keep 
 ing his eye fixed on the dark cloak and slouched head-gear, 
 which seemed so suspicious to his loves or to his fears, and 
 
THE OLD GOVERNOR NONPLUSSED. 139 
 
 his hand griping the hilt of his short, sharp estoc until the door 
 closed upon him ; and even then he stood at a short distance, 
 watching, as the greyhound straining in the slips, when the 
 slow-hounds are making the coppice ring with their deep bay 
 ing, to catch the slightest indication of tumult or disturbance 
 in the chamber of his lord, that he might fly to his aid, and, 
 if not rescue, at least die for his benefactor. With a keen 
 eye, and watchful, if not suspicious spirit, the old knight scru 
 tinized the motions of his guest. Before the jarring of the 
 ponderous door had fully announced that they were alone, the 
 plumed hat was cast aside, revealing, by its absence, a well- 
 formed head, covered with a profusion of black and silky hair, 
 hanging in short but massy ringlets, far down the neck of the 
 stranger, and a set of features which might well have passed 
 for those of a beautiful girl, but which might yet belong to ex 
 treme youth and delicacy in the other sex. The brow was 
 broader and more massive than is often seen in women, and 
 the eyes, though fringed with long and lovely lashes, had an 
 expression of wild and almost ecstatic boldness ; the rest of 
 the lineaments that met the eye of Baudricourt were regular 
 and delicate, even to effeminacy, in their chiselling. 
 
 " In God s name, what art thou ?" cried the stern warrior, 
 losing, in the wonder and excitement of the moment, all the 
 cold dignity and hauteur of his wonted mood. " Maiden, or 
 page, spirit of the blessed, or dark and evil fiend, I know not, 
 and I care not, speak? Stand not thus, I do conjure thee 
 speak ?" 
 
 The mantle fell slowly to the ground, and a female form of 
 exquisite proportions, though somewhat lofty for its years and 
 sex, stood palpably before him. The dress had nothing to 
 create even a moment s attention: a dark, close robe of serge, 
 gathered about the waist by a broad, leathern girdle, and san 
 dals of the chamois hide, and no more ; but in the attitude, the 
 
140 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 supernatural expression of the features, the hands uplifted, 
 and, above all, the penetrating glance of the full and flashing 
 eyes, there was much, which, in that age of mystery and 
 superstition, might well have led the governor to deem his 
 visitant a being of no mortal origin. 
 
 " Thou art a lover of thy country," she said at length in har 
 monious, but slow and solemn tones, a faithful servant of thy 
 king, a fervent worshipper of the one living God ? I tell thee, 
 sire de Baudricourt, that by the special favor of the last, thou 
 shall save thy native land from the fury of the invader, and 
 seat thy monarch once again upon the throne of his forefathers. 
 This shalt thou do. Swear only to follow my commands, the 
 commands of thy king, thy country, and thy God ?" 
 
 And who art thou to speak thus boldly of the will of mon- 
 archs, and the destined mercies of Almighty power ?" cried 
 Baudricourt, recovering somewhat from his first surprise, and 
 becoming rapidly incredulous, nearly to the same degree in 
 which he had lately been the contrary. 
 
 " I might say to thee, as He once said to his doubting ser 
 vant in the wilderness, I AM, and, did I speak the words, 
 twere parricidal sin in thee to doubt them. But though thy 
 flesh is weak and faithless, thy heart is true and loyal ; there 
 fore, I say to thee, I am the Maid of Arc, the Maid of Orleans 
 that shall be, and thence the Maid of Rheims. In me hath 
 God raised up a savior to his bleeding country, a deliverance 
 to his people !" 
 
 " Tush, tett me not ! Heaven chooses other messengers, I 
 trow, than such as thee to work its miracles ! Nor would thy 
 slender form bide long the brunt of Suffolk s levelled lances, 
 or Bedford s archery !" 
 
 Ha ! Doubtest thou the will of the Omnipotent ? doubt- 
 est thou that He, who chose the son of the humble carpenter 
 to be his Son, is the anointed King and Savior of the universe ? 
 
THE INSPIRATION. 141 
 
 doubtest thou that he can turn the frailty of the weakest girl into 
 an engine ten thousand times more mighty than the practised 
 valor of the bravest veteran ? Me ! me ! has he raised up, 
 and, spite of thee, old warrior, I will save my country ! And 
 thou, whose patriotism, whose loyalty, and whose religion, are 
 but a mockery and a lie, thou, too, shalt see the glories thou 
 hast presumed to doubt !" 
 
 n Sayest thou?" shouted her enraged host " sayest thou 
 so, wench ? By Him that made us both, but that I deem thee 
 mad, dearly shouldst thou rue thy contumely !" 
 
 " Even as I entered," was the calm reply " even as I en 
 tered, thou didst frame a wish to perish, as a brave man should, 
 upon the field of glory." 
 
 " Knowest thou that?" he gasped ; " then is the fiend, indeed, 
 at work here !" 
 
 " Listen, and thou shalt hear. But three nights since I was 
 a peasant-maiden without a care or thought beyond my humble 
 duties, and my innocent, though happy pleasures. Now am I 
 a woman, indeed, but a woman inspired with that high and 
 holy inspiration that armed of yore a Jael, and a Deborah, and 
 a Judith, against the mailed oppressors of their country and 
 their God. But three nights since, a voice came to me in my 
 sleep a mighty voice, loud as the rolling thunder, but sweeter 
 than the breeze of summer Slumber no more, it cried. A rise ! 
 arise ! thou humble one that shall be mightier than the mighti 
 est, arise ! it cried in tones that still ring in my mortal ears, like 
 strains of unforgotten music, thou shalt save thy country ! I 
 started from my sleep, and there they stood there, beside 
 my lowly pallet mother of the blessed Jesus, meek and gen 
 tle, in her exceeding beauty, and with a pure and holy fire in 
 her deep-blue eyes, that spoke of immortality, bright and all- 
 glorious, and eternal ! And by her side there stood a mailed 
 and helmed shape of glory ; but his arms were of a fashion 
 
142 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 not like thine, for his limbs were naked in their strength, and 
 his face unshaded by the vizor, a planet-star gleamed on his 
 kingly crest, and a broad cross of living lustre flamed on the 
 buckler of the great archangel, and they held converse with 
 me in that low and solitary chamber high, but voiceless con 
 verse and they told of the things that were, that are, and 
 that shall be hereafter ! Then was I unlearned and rude- 
 spoken. Now, blessed be they that gave, can I speak many 
 and great things ; and now I say to .thee, as it was said to me 
 Arise ! Do on thy arms of steel, and mount thy destrier, 
 summon thy vassals, and display thine ancient banner, the 
 Lord doth lack thy services ! and " 
 
 "And for what ?" interrupted the impatient veteran "for 
 what shall I do on my armor, and erect the banner of mine 
 house at whose bidding?" 
 
 " To speed the messenger of victory, the deliverance of 
 France, to the king even to the king thou hard of heart, 
 and stubborn, that I may say to him the words of Him who 
 sent me This do, and thou shalt live ! " 
 
 -"Away!" was the reply. "I will not don mine harness, 
 nor bestride my charger trumpet shall not sound, nor banner 
 wave this night." 
 
 " Ere an hour shall go by," the maiden again broke in with 
 clear, unfaltering voice "ere an hour shall go by, thou un 
 believer, trumpet shall sound, banner shall wave, and at thy 
 bidding ! and thou shalt don thine arms, and rein thy puissant 
 steed at my command, and His that sent me. I talk not to 
 thee of glory, or of loyalty, for it were of no avail. I talk to 
 thee of Power! Power which made thee as it made the 
 fiends made thee, and may destroy." 
 
 " And by that Power I swear !" he shouted 
 
 " Swear not at all! but hear me. Since all other methods 
 fail, hear me and tremble. By the immortal soul of her whose 
 
FIRST PATH OF GLORY. 143 
 
 mortal body thou didst destroy, warping her purest and most 
 womanish affections to thine unholy will and her destruction, 
 I bid thee follow and obey. Not that the works of Heaven 
 need the aid of men, but that all earth may know the arm 
 of Heaven by the union of a scarlet sinner, such as thou, to a 
 maid, as I am, humble, but, as I am all glory be to Him! 
 holy and innocent, wilt thou obey me ?" 
 
 " Never ! never ! I mock thy power, scoff at thy words. 
 Thou knowest not none ever knew." 
 
 " Knew not the clear and glassy waves of the Garonne, 
 which thou didst render loathsome as the charnel-house ? 
 Knew not the high and holy stars that heard her cries for 
 mercy ? Knew not the Sitter on the Throne, the Maker and 
 Judge of men and things ? Knew not the Almighty Shepherd 
 the fate of his still loved, though erring child 1 Knew not the 
 blood of Agnes de " 
 
 " Speak not her name ! speak not her flame ! Slay me 
 do with me as thou wilt but, oh ! speak not her name!" 
 And in a paroxysm of agony and shame the old man dashed 
 himself at her feet ! 
 
 " Rise up and do my bidding." And he arose, silent and 
 submissive as a chastened infant ; and banners did wave, and 
 trumpets ring that night. Torches and cressets flashed through 
 Gothic armory and vaulted stable. Horses were saddled, and 
 their steel-clad riders mounted beneath the midnight moon. 
 The drawbridge fell, and hollowly did its echoes sound be 
 neath the trampling feet, as, followed by knightly crests, and 
 noble banners, and with that proud old governor, a willing vas 
 sal at her bridle-rein, the Maid of Arc rode forth on her first 
 path of glory. 
 
144 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE EVIDENCE. 
 
 Reignier. Fair maid, is t thou wilt do these wondrous feats? 
 Pucelle. Reignier, is t thou that thinkest to beguile me? 
 
 "Where is the dauphin? Come, come from behind; 
 
 I know thee well, though never seen before. 
 
 Be not amazed, there s nothing hid from me? 
 
 KING HEXRY VI. 
 
 THE sun was some three hours high, on a bright September 
 morning, when the rich meadows, lying to the southwest of 
 the Loire, were disturbed by the merry shout of the falconers, 
 and the yelping cry of their busy spaniels. No tract of coun 
 try could possibly have been found more suitable to the princely 
 sport, designated in the quaint language of the day as the mys 
 tery of rivers, than the broad, verdant plains, through which 
 that noble stream rolls on its downward course from the anti 
 quated spires of Blois, even to the Western ocean. The smooth 
 velvet turf, free from the slightest obstacle of fence or barrier, 
 was as perfectly adapted to the reckless gallop of the sports* 
 man who, with eyes turned heavenward, intently gazing on 
 the towering flight of his gallant falcon, must dash onward free 
 of rein and fearless of heart, at desperate risk to life and limb 
 as were the rushy margins of the broad river and its hun 
 dred tributaries to the food and sport of the aquatic birds, that 
 afford to him his keenest pleasure. The party, which had 
 sallied forth, as it would seem, on this delicious morning, from 
 the neighboring walls of Chinon, consisted of five mounted cav 
 aliers, with a dozen grooms and servitors on foot, some bearing 
 frames on which to cast the falcons ; others with lures, and 
 
THE FALCONERS. 145 
 
 hunting-poles to beat the thickets, and not a feu with dogs of 
 almost every denomination, straining and pantir g in the slips. 
 The falconers all gallantly mounted, and all testriding their 
 fiery horses, now chafed into unusual ardor by ,he excitement 
 of the sport, with that peculiar ease and mastery, which was 
 then indicative in a high degree of noble birth and knightly 
 bearing would have appeared to a careless observer, to be 
 equals in rank and station. But on a closer scrutiny it must 
 have been perceived, that, although arrayed for his rural occu 
 pation in the simple garments of a sportsman, one of the party 
 was of no small dignity, perhaps of no small power. This 
 was a youth, whose age could not have exceeded the twentieth 
 summer, tall of his years, well-formed, and even elegant in his 
 proportions. His black velvet tocque, with its single heron 
 plume, set jauntily on the side of a well-shaped head, suffered 
 his long, light hair to float over his shoulders in loose curls, 
 while it threw no shadow over his bold, and speaking features ; 
 an eye, darker than was warranted by the color of his hair, 
 with brows of the same shade, straight and decided, lent an 
 expression of sternness to his lineaments, which was belied by 
 the sweet and winning smile that would light them up at in 
 tervals, as an April sunbeam would gleam npon the edges, and 
 clear away the gloom, of an equinoctial storm-cloud ; his nose 
 was prominent, and slightly aquiline ; his upper lip shadowed 
 by a small mustache, and his chin, contrary to the custom 
 of the age, closely shaven, and betokening, in its square and 
 clearly-cut outlines, resolution, and manliness of purpose. Al 
 together, it was a countenance which women would adore, and 
 men might reverence ; there was a mixture of voluptuousness 
 and hardihood, of gentleness and dignity, such as unite but 
 rarely in the features of a single individual, and which, as cer 
 tainly as they do so mingle, betoken the existence of no com 
 mon character. His garb was a close tunic, or jerkin, of forest- 
 
 7 
 
146 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 green, furred deeply at the cape with minever, tight hose of 
 snow-white chamois leather, with falling, buskins of russet, and 
 long spurs of solid gold. On his right hand, covered by the 
 peculiarly-formed hawking glove, sat a Norway falcon of the 
 choicest breed, unhooded and ready, as its clear, wild eye an 
 nounced, for instant flight; while by the slightest motion of his 
 left, he turned and wound the beautiful animal he rode, with 
 an ease that almost savored of the magic. As widely different 
 in appearance from this gay youth, as was his heavy coal-black 
 charger from the slight Arab of his comrade, was the knight 
 who rode at his right hand, and from whose tones and demeanor, 
 even more than from his words, the station of the other might 
 be conjectured. His stern, and hard-favored countenance, 
 scorched to almost negro blackness, from exposure to the vicis 
 situdes of climate his harsh, black hair, clipped short upon 
 his swart brow his strong features, and forehead, almost 
 rendered callous by the pressure of his cerveillicre and yet 
 more than these, his deep chest, thin flanks, limbs of gigantic 
 muscle, and bony hands, from which the veins and sinews pro 
 jected like a network of cords, proved him to be a man more 
 used to camps than courts, and, unless appearances were more 
 than commonly deceitful, a tried and powerful warrior. The 
 dress of this dark soldier was, like the person of the wearer, 
 fitted for action rather than for show. A frock of buff-leather, 
 such as was worn beneath the complete panoply of knighthood, 
 and stained in many places by rust, with the rim of a jazcran, 
 or light shirt of chain-mail, peeping above the collar, high 
 boots of heavy leather, and a bonnet of scarlet cloth, with a 
 long drooping plume, worn without the slightest decoration, 
 completed his personal attire ; but on one side of the saddlebow, 
 hung a bacinet, or open helmet, of highly-polished steel, with 
 out crest or burgonet of any kind, while from the other was 
 slung in its leathern case, a heavy, double-headed battle-axe. 
 
CHARLES VII. OF FRANCE. 147 
 
 "By Heaven! Dunois," cried the young cavalier, in tones 
 that rung like tempered steel, " by Heaven, but the free morn 
 ing air of our belle France smells fragrantly, after the musty 
 vapors of yon dull garrison, in which we have been pent so 
 long. And thou, old croaker, wouldst have cooped us up yet 
 longer in its dungeon walls with thy perpetual caution. Con 
 fess thyself in fault, my paladin ; here are we within some five 
 leagues of the outpost of those dogged islanders, whom God 
 confound, and not a sound or sight of peril hath disturbed our 
 sport ! By the head of Charlemagne, I have a mind to beat up 
 their quarters, this blithe morning. How say you, cousin 
 mine, shall we five cavaliers ride on and break a lance in sport 
 with these knights of England ?" 
 
 " May Heaven forefend," replied the renowned warrior, to 
 whom he spoke, in a voice so deep and sonorous, that it was 
 almost startling, when compared with the appearance of the 
 speaker, " may Heaven forefend, your majesty should be put to 
 such necessity ; but little would your hunting-sword, or, for 
 that matter, my good battle-axe, avail against the espaldrons 
 and lances of Bedford s chivalry. And, now your majesty has 
 given me permission, I do beseech you turn your bridle-rein ; 
 there is frank courtesy among the prickers of yon island host, 
 and by my faith if we fall in with one of their videttes, it may 
 go hard with us to scape a lodging in their tower of London. 
 Methinks, since Azincour, there have been princes of the blood 
 enow within those fatal walls, that your majesty should not 
 seek to share their dwelling, unless, tete Dieu, it please you to 
 prove the politesse of their sixth Henry. Methinks, he scarce 
 will change your highness platter, and wait your bidding on 
 his knee, as did the black prince at Poictiers, that of your 
 grandsire John. 
 
 " Ha ! By mine honor, but they come ! lo there ! yon cloud 
 of dust, and yon dense plump of spears beneath a knightly ban- 
 
THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF A*C. 
 
 ner ! Ride for your life, my liege ; spare not to spoil your 
 horseflesh ; ride for your liberty and life ! I go to check their 
 progress ! Reignier, attend the king ; and ye, Vendome and 
 Bourcicaut, tarry with me ! n 
 
 " Nol so, fair cousin of Dunois," replied the noble boy, as 
 calmly as though he were declining an invitation to a banquet, 
 " not -so ! Most base it were and craven, that I, who by my 
 waywardness, have brought ye into this great peril, that I, 
 Charles of France, should purchase a rascal freedom by the 
 blood of my best counsellor, and bravest knight. We will 
 fight, or flee together ; which shall it be ; say Bourcicaut, spurs 
 or the sword ? Ha ! Reignier, Vendome, speak ! n 
 
 But. while he was yet speaking, Dunois had changed his 
 bonnet for the trusty casque, loosed his cross-handled sword 
 in its scabbard, and grasped his axe. He listened with a 
 grim smile to the young monarch s answer, and, dropping the 
 heavy weapon into the hollow of his bridle-arm, flung out his 
 right hand impatiently toward the other courtiers " This is 
 no time for boys play. France will be lost, an we stand par 
 leying thus ; yon spears are within a brief mile of us now 
 seize on his highness s rein, De Bourcicaut ; away with him 
 no time for courtesy force him from the field, brave sirs, 
 and he will pardon the discourtesy in guerdon of his safety !" 
 
 It was, perhaps, a task of greater enterprise and daring, to 
 those high spirits, to lay hands upon the person of their sov 
 ereign, than it would have been to rush, in their garments of 
 peace, against the levelled lances of the English skirmishers ; 
 undoubtedly it was a deed which manifested in a higher de 
 gree their resolution and devoted attachment. In an instant it 
 was done : Bourcicaut and Venddme seized his reins on either 
 hand, and, Reignier striking the monarch s Arab sharply with 
 his riding-rod, all three dashed off at a pace scarcely inferior 
 to that of the swallows, a few of which lingered in the mild 
 
A FORLORX HOPE. 149 
 
 climate beside those gentle waters. " After them, Reignier," 
 cried the deligrhted Dunois ; M after them ! I can find play for 
 these dogs, for an hour, with my single arm, and ere then, if 
 ye spar sharply, ye can bring me succor ; and hark ffcsr, by 
 yon clamp of elms, there on the rivers edge, I mnrkud, as we 
 rode by, a boat at moorings put but the Loire between us, 
 and ye are in safety! Farewell ! Away P 
 
 And without another word, actuated by the same noble spir 
 it, the two gallants parted the one, as he believed, to rush on 
 certain death ; the other, harder to him than death, to leave a 
 tried and valued comrade to cope, single-handed, with a host. 
 But duty ay. and more than duty imperious honor called, 
 and they obeyed ! the one in all the triumphant joy of con 
 fidence and valor, for in those iron days there was no consum 
 mation so devoutly to be prayed for, as a death under shield, 
 and in a rightful cause ; the other, downcast and sorrowful, 
 but still determined. 
 
 Resolutely, almost fiercely, had the young king struggled at 
 the first, charging his attendants by their faith, their allegiance, 
 and their honor, to desist ; nay, he had unsheathed his hunt 
 ing-sword, and threatened those devoted men with death. 
 " We can die," was the brief but reverential answer " we 
 can die, if so your royal highness will it but we shall die in 
 our duty !"" Further opposition was vain, and when they had 
 ridden, perhaps, a mile, his better judgment mastered his im 
 petuosity, and he pledged his kingly word, his knightly honor, 
 to accompany their flight. Often, however, did they pause 
 often did they turn the head to mark the fortune of their bold 
 defender. For a while, they saw him galloping steadily for 
 ward, his helmet flashing to the sunshine, and the outlines of 
 his unblenching form, drawn in gigantic relief against the low 
 horizon, plunging toward the band, that still advanced to meet 
 him, as confidently, though he rode alone against a score of 
 
150 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 lances, as though he had been the leader of a host. They 
 saw him for the last time, as they paused to breathe their 
 horses on the summit of a gentle slope, they passed the brow, 
 and he was lost to their lingering eyes. The clump of elms 
 was reached, the barge unmoored, the horses embarked 
 hands used to the lance and buckler, grasped oar and boat- 
 hook, but no prayers, no violence, could induce the noble 
 Charles to enter. " Never ! by the soul of my fathers, never! 
 Thus far have I yielded to your will, but now am I resolved. 
 Here will I tarry till Dunois return, or till my foes have passed 
 yon knoll. If he have fallen, then twill be time, and time 
 enough, to flee ; if he be yet alive, as, by the Virgin s grace, I 
 trust he may, we yet will rescue him." His words bore too 
 much of weight and reason to be denied ; but, had they been 
 wild as the autumnal winds, denial had been fruitless. With 
 eyes on the alert, and ears eagerly drinking in the smallest 
 and most distant sounds, that little group awaited the tidings 
 of victory, or of death. Long and keenly did they listen 
 but no charging shout, no clash of steel, no shivering of lances, 
 came on the light air, that waved the foliage round them. 
 
 " Mere de Dieu !" shouted the king, after a pause of deeper 
 and more thrilling attention ; " it is the tramp of Dunois s Oli 
 vier I could swear to his long gallop from a thousand!" 
 
 " Not so ! not so that is no single horse-tramp! it is the 
 foe ! the foe ! to the boat, my liege, to the boat pour Vamour 
 des deux /" 
 
 " Thy fear for us, and not thy reason speaks, brave Bourci- 
 caut see tis the man himself! Hail, all hail, my gallant 
 Dunois! How didst thou scape the dogs of England? 
 quick, quick on board ! we will delay no longer!" 
 
 " Pour le coup, beau sire we are in safety," replied the 
 knight. " Tis old Baudricourt from Vaucouleurs, come witl. 
 
ROYALTY IN DISGUISE. 151 
 
 a score of lances, and a prophetess, Heaven save the mark ! 
 to raise the siege of Orleans," and he laughed scornfully. 
 
 "A prophetess ha! Dunois ! Is she fair ? and young, 
 Dunois ? A maiden, or a grandam ? speak, man hast lost 
 thy tongue ? By all the saints in heaven, but we will see 
 this prophetess !" 
 
 " Her favor, I marked not, my liege nor recked, in good 
 sooth, of it! The constable of France has other things to 
 look to besides the beauty of young dames. But she doth 
 speak of visions doth aver that she can name your grace 
 among a thousand doth demand a sword, an antique sword, 
 concealed beneath the altar-stone of St. Catharine de Fierbois 
 doth boast that she will raise the siege of Orleans, and 
 crown your highness with the diadem of Clovis, in the high 
 church of Rheims. Old Baudricourt doth vouch most strongly 
 for her inspiration. Rank mummery, I trow rank mummery !" 
 
 " By Heaven ! but we would see more of this," replied the 
 prince, not wholly untinctured by the superstition of the age. 
 "Where loiters this fair prophetess? Lead on, Dunois! 
 Lead on our martial Mercury !" 
 
 " Nay, but my liege," interrupted the blunt warrior, " if 
 that you deem it worth the while to speak with this same jug 
 gler, what if you don the garb and mount the horse of Bourci- 
 caut or, better yet, do on the liveries of Hugonet, he is about 
 your grace s years, and not ill-favored let him mount your 
 gay Arabian, and play king for the nonce ! A hundred marks 
 of gold she greets him as the sovereign !" 
 
 "Well thought of, by mine honor it shall be so. Here, 
 Hugonet, thy livery cloak, and boots soh ! now thine 
 hunting-pole, aye, and the leash of spaniels. I had forgot 
 the bonnet, and the lures ! Methinks if English Henry win 
 our father s throne, that we can earn our bread, indifferent 
 well, as varlet to this island lord of France ! Now, boy, don 
 
152 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 thou my hunting jerkin, and my russet buskins. Thou st 
 buckled on the golden spurs betimes tis a good omen, Hu- 
 gonet ; who knows but one day thou shalt win them ! My 
 tocque and feather faith but thou showest a gallant gentle 
 man and here, take Bright-eye, and my hawking-glove. 
 Buckle this diamond bauble round thy collar, and thou art, 
 every inch, a king. Soh ! Brave Gazelle stand stand, 
 good horse, and bear thine honors meekly," and doffing his 
 felt bonnet sportively, the monarch held the stirrup for his 
 serving man. " On on, Dunois, we fain would try the truth 
 of this your prophetess ! Lead on !" 
 
 " It needs not here they come," cried Dunois. " Unbon- 
 net yourselves, gentlemen unbonnet all, save Hugonet I 
 go to warn old Baudricourt !" and in an instant he dashed for 
 ward to the advancing party. 
 
 It was a subject for a painter that brief interview. The 
 pretended king, bearing himself worthily of his part, sat a lit 
 tle in advance of the nobles, on. the finely-formed Arabian ; 
 while close beside his stirrup stood the true prince, in rude 
 garb and clownish attitude, now playing with the dogs, now 
 gazing with feigned indifference, but real* anxiety, at the ap 
 proaching group. On the other hand, were the old governor 
 of Vaucouleurs bending his mailed form over his saddle-bow 
 in feigned respect, the stately knights behind him, motionless 
 as statues of solid steel, save that the pennons of their long 
 lances fluttered freely in the breeze, and the prophet-maiden, 
 her dark locks floating on the air, her bosom panting, as it 
 were, and laboring with the spirit that worked within, her 
 wild eye flashing with the speed and brilliancy of lightning 
 over every person jrf the party. 
 
 "Come forth," she said, at length "Come forth, thou 
 Royal Eagle !" She spoke, not with the bashful rusticity of 
 a peasant-maid, but with a high and free demeanor that might 
 
THE TEST. 153 
 
 have beseemed the heiress to a line of sovereigns, waving her 
 hand toward the disguised prince with an eager and inquiring 
 gesture : " Come forth, thou noble bird nor let the base and 
 carrion vulture put on thy semblance ! Monarch of France ! 
 I bid thee hail. I, Joan, the Maid of Arc. Even as thou 
 throwest by those servile trappings, even as thou doest on thy 
 proper garb, so, by the grace of Him who sent me, so shalt 
 thou dash aside the proud invaders, so don the crown, and 
 mount the throne, of glory !" 
 
 "Maiden, I hail the omen I accept the messenger I 
 bless the God who sent thee !" cried the enthusiastic youth, 
 tossing aside his disguise, and springing forward in his own 
 noble and natural bearing. Astonishment was painted on the 
 lineaments of all and even the sneer that sat upon the lip of 
 the dark constable, relaxed into a smile. 
 
 " Tis strange," he muttered " passing strange ! and yet" 
 " Yet what, proud noble ? I tell thee I will move the 
 world, but men shall know me for the holy thing I am, and 
 speed me to the duties for which I am ordained. Knowing 
 of myself nothing, yet do I know all things. I know that thou, 
 Dunois, that thou didst counsel this disguise ; as if a web of 
 mortal texture could cheat the eyes, that see with the perva 
 ding vision of the All-seeing. I know that three nights since 
 even at the hour when first the power and the sign were 
 sent to me thou, Charles of France, didst sit and gaze from 
 the dark battlements of Chinon, over the mournful murmurings 
 of the Loire ; I know that thou didst raise thy voice, the voice 
 of thy inmost soul, to the Lord even to the Lord of hosts 
 beseeching him to nerve thine arm, and save thy people and 
 lo, HE hath sent ME ! I know, that, ere an hour had passed 
 away, the prayer and the mournful river were alike forgotten 
 in the dream of luxury and dalliance ; that the ardent aspira 
 tions of thy spirits were forgotten, as thy heart beat fast and 
 
 7* 
 
154 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 hot to the responsive heart of that young beauty I know that 
 the dark and quiet heavens, which heard and registered thy 
 vow, were banished from thy memory by the brighter heavens 
 that smiled upon thee from the eyes" 
 
 " Enough ! enough !" shouted the king, fearful perhaps lest 
 she should disclose more of her knowledge, whether it were 
 indeed supernatural or merely the result of intelligence and 
 shrewd deceit. " Were I as incredulous as the Apostle of 
 old may he vouchsafe us his most holy aid I were con 
 vinced ! To horse to horse! we will to Poictiers to our 
 parliament ; they shall acknowledge thee, and thou shalt lead 
 our hosts to glory ! Follow us to Poictiers !" 
 
 " Not so, sir king not so ! Mine is a heavenly mission ; 
 thine but an earthly bidding. I go to the chapel of St. Catharine 
 de Fierbois, for I must travel in the road of Him who sent me. 
 Beneath the altar-stone there lies a sword an ancient sword 
 the weapon of St. Denys, and by this sign shalt thou know 
 it. On its pommel there is a skull of gold, and for its guard 
 five fleurs-de-lis of the same precious metal. Five hundred 
 years hath it lain in that damp grave, but rust may not darken, 
 nor the cold dews of the charnel-house consume that, which 
 the Lord did consecrate. With that sword must I go forth to 
 battle with that sword must I drive back the foes of France 
 like howling wolves with that sword must I redeem the dia 
 dem of Clovis, to place it on thine anointed brows, even in the 
 high church of Rheims ! Follow, nobles and knights, follow 
 me rather, to the chapel of Fierbois !" 
 
 And they rode on to that ancient shrine, and mass was said 
 by the prior, and anthems chanted by the assembled monks ; 
 but neither monk nor prior knew, nor ere had heard, of that 
 mysterious sword. And the altar-stone was moved from its 
 deep foundations, and the bones of the dead were moA^ed, and 
 there, in the dark mould of the grave, found they the sword of 
 
THE PARLIAMENT. 155 
 
 St. Denys, with the skull of gold on the pommel, and the fleurs- 
 de-lis on the guard, and the blue steel bright and burnished, 
 as though it had been forged but yesterday ; and the maiden 
 girded it by her side, and cried out in a high and clear tone, 
 " By this sign shall ye know me that I am sent, -for is it not 
 written in HIS holy book Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O 
 most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty. And in thy 
 majesty ride prosperously, because of truth, and meekness, and 
 righteousness, and thy right hand shall teach terrible things. " 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE RECOGNITION. 
 
 Alex. Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. 
 
 Reig. "Woman, do what thou canst to save our honors, 
 Drive them from Orleans, and be immortalized. 
 
 SHAKSPERE. 
 
 IN a vast Gothic hall, within the ancient walls of Poictiers, 
 the parliament of France had been convened, during the occu 
 pation of the capital by their brave invaders. They had come 
 together, the peers, both temporal and spiritual of the realm, in 
 full numbers, and in all the gorgeous magnificence of the 
 feudal ages ; nor would it be easy to conceive a scene of more 
 exalted splendor than that which was presented by this august 
 assemblage. The long hall, lighted on either hand by a row 
 of tall, lanceolated windows, through which the daylight 
 streamed, not in its garish lines of unmellowed lustre, but ten 
 der, rich, and melancholy, through the medium of the thousand 
 hues, in which were blazoned on the narrow panes the bear- 
 
156 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 ings of many a noble house ; the clustered columns hung with 
 gigantic suits of armor ; the fantastic carvings of the capitals ; 
 the groining of the vaulted roof, with the bannered trophies of 
 ten centuries swaying to and fro in the light currents of air 
 that played through the hall ; the long central table, with its 
 rich covering of crimson velvet, and the displayed insignia of 
 royalty, the sword, the sceptre, and the mace of Charlemagne ; 
 the throne, with its massive gilding, and its canopy of cloth 
 of gold ; all had been prepared with as much of elaborate 
 taste, as though a victorious monarch were about to receive the 
 congratulations of his assembled feudatories, in the high places 
 of his hereditary dominion. Far different, however, from the 
 splendor which surrounded them on every side, was the ex 
 pression that sat, with hardly an exception, on every brow 
 through that proud conclave. It was one pervading universal 
 expression of restless anxiety, of universal dismay. Old 
 knights were there, whose beards had grown long and hoary 
 beneath the helmet, which had scarcely left their brows since 
 the distant days of their boyhood ; men who had proved and 
 rued the discipline and valor of the English yeomanry at 
 Cressy and Poictiers ; men, over whom a silent century had 
 sped its course, and left them broken in body, but untamed in 
 spirit, and unsubdued in intellect ; chiefs were there, whose 
 maiden swords had, for the first time, gleamed on the disastrous 
 field of Agincourt chiefs, to whom the deadly onset was 
 dearer than the voluptuous dance, the maddening clamor of 
 the trumpet more congenial than the minstrel s lute ; but of the 
 hundreds who sat in long array in ermined robes and caps 
 of maintenance, scarce one in fifty had passed the middle age 
 of manhood. The noblesse of France had been fearfully deci 
 mated by the merciless sword of England, which had converted 
 their finest provinces into sterile and uncultivated deserts. 
 Year after year had brought the same dark tidings of defeat 
 
MAILED COSTUME OF THE XVTH CENTURY. 157 
 
 and desolation, of captivity and death. The burgonets of an 
 cient houses, for the most part, pressed the sunny locks of 
 boyhood ; and the task of deliberating on the weal of kingdoms 
 had, for the most part, descended to the gallant youth, more 
 fitted to chant love-ditties in the bower of willing beauty, or to 
 fight with impetuous ardor in the first ranks of the battle, than 
 to frame laws, or to solve nice points of casuistry. A yet 
 more remarkable token of the insecurity of the times, was to be 
 found in the shirts of linked mail, or coats of plate, which were 
 universally worn beneath the ermined garments of the senators 
 in the concourse of pages and esquires without, bearing each 
 the casque, the buckler, and the weapons of his lord and in 
 the barbed war-horses, that were led to and fro, in full capari 
 son, beneath the windows of the council-chamber. More in 
 congruous yet would it have appeared to modern eyes, could 
 they have witnessed the highest dignitaries of the church, 
 clad like their temporal brethren, in all the panoply of warfare ; 
 yet there were present at least a score of these literal members 
 of a church militant, who would have been, perhaps, more 
 familiar with the usage of the lance than of the crosier, and to 
 whose lips the banner-cry of their families would have risen 
 more promptly than mass or benediction. 
 
 Assembled as these nobles were, ready alike for combat or 
 for council, it would seem that there was yet a something 
 wanting ere they could proceed to business ; impatient glances 
 were thrown toward the sun, that was already riding high in 
 the heavens, and to the throne, which was as yet unoccupied. 
 Nor was this all ; murmurs of disapprobation were beginning 
 to be heard, even among the most volatile spirits of the parlia 
 ment, while the more aged councillors knit their dark brows 
 and shook their heads, boding no good to France or its inhab 
 itants, so long as its destinies should be swayed by a monarch 
 ever willing to postpone the most serious duties for the prose- 
 
158 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 cution of some headlong sport, or of some licentious amour. 
 It was, perhaps, with a view of calling the attention of the 
 court to this strange neglect of the reigning sovereign for 
 the sway of monarchs was vastly abridged by the power of 
 their higher vassals that the bishop of Senlis, a tall, iron- 
 limbed, and hard-featured prelate, who wore his cape and robes 
 over a suit of Milan steel superbly damasked with gold, which 
 clanked omniously as he strode to the central table, rose as if 
 to speak. Scarcely, however, had he broken silence, before a 
 cry was heard without " Room ! room ! for the king ! room ! 
 for the bold Dunois room! for the prophet-maiden" follow 
 ed by cheering so tumultuous that the banners flapped heavily, 
 as if a mighty wind had fallen upon their folds, and not a few 
 of the younger nobles sprang to their feet in astonishment. 
 
 In an instant the doors were thrown open ; and well might 
 the nobles gaze in wonder at the group that entered. With 
 his wonted impetuosity, Charles had not stopped, even for a 
 moment s space, to alter his attire, ere he entered the presence 
 of his peers springing from his horse, and casting its rein to 
 the esquire in waiting, commanding his attendants to follow 
 without delay, he rushed into the supreme council of his na 
 tion in his hunting-dress, with the stains of the chase fresh 
 upon spur and buskin. This would, however, have called 
 forth no surprise on the part of the peers, accustom ed, as they 
 long had been, to the extravagances of the young king, who, 
 though he could, when it listed him so to do, debate as sagely 
 as the wisest of their number, or array a host, with his own 
 lance for leading staff, as soldierly as any, save perhaps Dunois, 
 was just as likely to fling away from business of the most en 
 grossing interest to mingle in the dance or lead the hunt. On 
 the entrance of~Charles, indecorous as was the speed with 
 which he strode up the hall, and unsuited as was his garb to 
 the occasion, all had arisen and several of the highest dignity 
 
MURMURS OF DISGUST. 159 
 
 advanced as if to conduct him to the throne ; but when Dunois 
 was seen to pass the threshold with the prophet-maiden sup 
 ported on his stalwart arm, a general murmur of disgust passed 
 along the crowded benches, and seemed about to swell into 
 notes of deeper and more fearful import. Nor indeed was she 
 a spectacle peculiarly adapted to the scene. In an age when 
 the greatest possible veneration was paid to rank, and when 
 humble parentage was almost deemed a crime, it was scarcely 
 possible that the haughtiest council of Europe would brook 
 the intrusion even when sanctioned by their monarch of a 
 mere peasant-girl into their solemn halls of audience. At this 
 moment, too, there was another, and yet a stronger reason for 
 the anger of the peers. They doubted not but that Charles, 
 with a degree of levity which he had never before reached, 
 even in his wildest moments of license, was introducing a par 
 amour to their august presence a peasant paramour. Yet, 
 had they looked on the speaking lineaments, rather than on 
 the frock of serge and leathern girdle had they marked the 
 flash of her dark eye, as she gazed around her, unawed by the 
 dignity, and undisturbed by the displeasure of the parliament 
 had they marked the indignant expression, the curl of her 
 lip, and the expansion of her nostrils, as she caught the sound 
 of some disparaging epithet had they cared to read the 
 meaning of the deep crimson flush, that rushed over her cheek 
 and brow, they could not, for a second s space, have deemed 
 her a thing of infamy, perhaps they scarcely could have be 
 lieved her other than a scion of some time-honored race. 
 
 It was but for a moment, however, that the tumult for the 
 manifestation of anger had reached a pitch which almost justi 
 fied that title was permitted to endure. The best and noblest 
 of the peers rushed forward, though scarcely less indignant 
 than their fellows, to enforce silence at least, if not respect and 
 homage. 
 
.160 
 
 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 " How now, my lieges !" cried the youthful king, standing 
 erect in the centre of the hall, have you no warmer welcome 
 for your sovereign than these tumultuous clamors ? methinks 
 such tones were best reserved till we join fronts with Eng 
 land s archery ; and then, my lords, will Charles send forth 
 his voice to swell the war-cry of his fathers ! MONT JOY 
 SAINT DENIS !" 
 
 " But little chance is there, beau sire," interrupted the war 
 rior-bishop, with a freedom of speech that would at any time 
 have been deemed to border upon discourtesy at least, if not 
 on treason -"But little chance is there, beau sire, that 
 France s nobles should be summoned to other conflict than 
 that of the midnight banquet or the morning chase, by a prince 
 who deems it fitting his own dignity to lead his low-born con 
 cubines into the very halls of his high parliament !- And for 
 that matter, little chance is there that they would heed his bid 
 ding, even should he, in some wild caprice, unfold the ori- 
 flamme, and call his vassals to the field of honor." 
 
 " Sayest thou, sir bishop !" shouted the gallant boy, his brow 
 crimsoning with the eloquent blood of indignation sayest 
 thou-and to me ? Now, by the honor of a child of France, 
 thou shalt account to me for this outrage. Ho! Dunois 
 summon our guards, and let yon brawler learn if cope and 
 cowl should buckler such a cause as he has dared uphold this 
 morning. Nay, speak not for him, Dunois nor thou, fair 
 prophetess ; for by my father s soul, Senlis shall lose her 
 bishop ere the sun set. Our guards ! what ho ! our guards !" 
 The gates were flung open at the monarch s cry ; and a 
 dozen sergeants of the guard, in royal liveries, with partisans 
 advanced, and swords already glittering in the sunshine, were 
 seen without the archway. Forward ! my guards," he cried 
 again in a yet louder voice. - Bertrand de Montmorenci, 
 seize yon factious bishop seize him !" he continued, seeing 
 
THE KING AND THE BISHOP. 161 
 
 some slight hesitation on the part of the officer " seize him, 
 were he at the holy altar ourselves will reckon with the 
 mother-church !" 
 
 Slowly the guards marched forward, in compact and steady 
 order ; and so silent was that assembly, which had but a mo 
 ment before showed like the ocean billows chafing beneath 
 the tempest, that not a sound was heard, save the heavy tramp 
 of the armed warders, as they advanced to do the bidding of 
 their monarch. The haughty prelate stood erect and fearless, 
 meeting the glowing features and flashing eye of the youthful 
 king with an expression as proud, a port as fearless, as his 
 own. The guards drew nigher, and yet nigher ; but, at the 
 very instant when they were about to lay hands on the offen 
 der, as if by a common impulse, the whole assembled peerage 
 advanced a nace or two, as if to assert the privilege of parlia 
 ment ; and although no word or gesture of violence had as yet 
 occurred, it became evident even to the prince that the sense 
 of the assemblage was against him, and that a tumult, the des 
 perate nature of which might be conjectured from the deter 
 mined silence of the actors, must be the result of his persisting 
 in the arrest of his seditious noble. Still there was no touch 
 of fear or hesitation in his noble spirit. " Speak not to me, 
 Dunois, he replied, in a hoarse, low whisper, as his best 
 councillor implored him to be prudent "speak not to we. 
 I am the king of France ! and never did king brook so foul a 
 contumely from the lips of subject. No ! Let them murther 
 me, if they will, in my own courts of parliament, and write in 
 the records of their house, that the peers of France have 
 deemed it worthy of their own, and of their country s honor, 
 to slay the heir of Charlemagne for upholding his own good 
 name. Speak noi to me ; for by the blessed sun that sees us 
 both, Albert of Senlis, or Charles of France, shall close his 
 eyes this night upon those splendors, never to see them more !" 
 
162 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 As he spoke, he laid his hand on the hilt of his hunting- 
 sword, and advanced in person to seize, with his own hand, 
 the haughty churchman. A hoarse, low murmur ran through 
 the hall, like the shuddering breath that agitates the woodland 
 before the coming of the tempest, but he marked or recked it 
 not another instant would have unsheathed a thousand swords, 
 and the miseries of that unhappy realm would have been aug 
 mented yet more terribly by the mutual strife and slaughter of 
 those, who should have been her best defenders. The bishop 
 still stood erect ; and now, confident of the support of the 
 banded feudatories, a smile curled his lip, and he perused, 
 with a half-contemptuous expression, the lineaments of the 
 king as he strode on to seize him, followed by the resolute 
 though still reluctant Dunois. At this critical moment, \vhen 
 another word or action would have given rise to deeds, which 
 never could have been recalled, the Maid of Arc stood for 
 ward. 
 
 " Forbear !" she cried, in a voice so higli and musical that, 
 even in that moment of excitement and impending violence, it 
 fell on every ear with a soothing sound, and arrested every im 
 petuous arm " Forbear ! thou child of France and thou, sir 
 bishop. Shame ! Shame, that a minister of holy church should 
 be a minister of wrath and evil. Hear me !" she continued, with 
 animation still increasing as she spoke " Nobles and knights 
 of France hear me, the MESSENGER OF HEAVEN ! I have 
 come by the will of THE FATHER, to save the sons of France 
 from the polluting blight of the invader ! I, a peasant-maiden, 
 who lay down to rest, and rose up to labor, with no higher 
 thoughts than of my daily toils I, Joan of Arc, am sent by 
 the MOST HIGH to lead the hosts, and wield the sword of ven 
 geance ! A few short hours since were my .words rude, and my 
 thoughts lowly ; now, by gift of HIM who sent me, my speech 
 is eloquent, my breast is full of high and glorious aspirations, 
 
HER STIRRING APPEAL TO ARMS. 163 
 
 my soul is rich with wisdom ! Start not, nor doubt my words, 
 for I have proved them ! See ye this blade ?" and she waved 
 it triumphantly above her head. "This blade once of St. 
 Denis, now of a mightier than St. Denis ? Five dark and 
 silent centuries hath it lain in the mouldering tomb, unknown, 
 unnoted, and forgotten, for it was unneeded ! But the voice 
 which roused me from my sleep of ignorance revealed it. 
 The Lord of Hosts hath need of an avenger, and he hath 
 armed her for the field with that miraculous sword, which shall 
 be red as crimson with the proudest blood of England. Nobles 
 and knights, to arms your king, your country, and your God, 
 call you to arms ! Ere six months have elapsed, I tell ye, 
 France shall be delivered. I tell ye that the oriflamme shall 
 float in glory o er the walls of Orleans. I tell ye that this 
 child of France shall buckle on the sword, and shall be crown 
 ed with the crown of Charlemagne in the high church of 
 Rheims and by thy hands, lord bishop ! Princes, and pala 
 dins, and peers, I do conjure you by a sign, I do command 
 ye by a power which ye see not, but must obey ! To arms 
 for France and Freedom ! To arms for France and Ven 
 geance ! It is the will of God !" 
 
 Strange had been the emotions of those high spirits during 
 the appeal of the peasant-maiden ; pride, at first, and contempt 
 were painted on every scowling brow ; but as her words 
 waxed powerful and high, as her voice flowed like the con 
 tinued blast of a silver trumpet, as her bosom heaved with in 
 spiration, and as her dark eyes flashed with supernatural lus 
 tre, contempt and pride were lost in astonishment and admira 
 tion. She struck the key of their insulted patriotism, and they 
 burned she spoke to their superstitions, and they well nigh 
 trembled she asserted the assistance of a power which they 
 must obey ; and the proudest, the noblest, the haughtiest as 
 sembly of the Christian world heard and they did obey. 
 
164 THE FORTUMES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 One voice as she concluded her fervid harangue one 
 powerful voice sent forth her last words, shouting them as 
 though they were a battle-cry " To arms ! It is the will of 
 God !" It was the voice of the best and bravest it was the 
 voice of the stern Dimois. 
 
 From heart to heart it ran like an electric shock 
 from lip to lip it pealed " To arms for France and Free 
 dom ! To arms for France and Vengeance ! It is the will 
 of God !" Louder it rang, and louder, till battlement and tur 
 ret seemed to rock before the earthquake clamor, and the 
 maiden read the certainty of triumph in the enthusiastic con 
 fidence of those she was about to lead to victory. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE RELIEF OF ORLEANS. 
 
 Pucelle. Advance our waving colors on the wall ; 
 
 Rescued is Orleans from the English Wolves : 
 Thus Joan la Pucelle has performed her word. 
 
 ALL night long the streets of Blois had rung with the wild 
 est confusion. War-drum and nakir mingled their long rolling 
 cadences with the shrill flourish of horn and trumpet, and the 
 tinkling clang of cymbals. The blacksmiths forges blazed 
 red and lurid, while the strong-limbed artisans plied their 
 massive hammers to shape and bend the shoes of the huge 
 destriers, that pawed and snorted round the smithies. Pages 
 and squires were hurrying to and fro with helms and hauberks, 
 to be polished or repaired for to-morrow s service wagons 
 laden with wine and wheat, w r ere dragged along the ill-paved 
 
DIN AND NOTE OF PREPARATION. 165 
 
 streets, groaning and creaking with their own weight, by the 
 reluctant oxen ever and anon a piece of rude and cumbrous 
 ordnance, shaped like a cask with bars of hammered iron, 
 hooped into the form of tubes by solid rings of the same metal, 
 was hauled along with yet mightier effort, amidst the shouts 
 of the fierce soldiery. 
 
 Still, among all the din and note of preparation, there was 
 naught of riot or debauchery no healths pottle-deep no 
 carousings round the midnight watch-fires no squeaking of 
 rote or gittern no lascivious dances, or loose songs of cour 
 tesan and jongleur! all was stern, grave, and business-like. 
 Men felt as if they were on the eve of a dread convulsion 
 of a mighty effort they passed to and fro, as the exigencies 
 of the time required, with bent brows and long-determined 
 strides; their conversation was in short stern whispers! 
 The spirit of THE MAIDEN was among them the very men, 
 who a few short weeks before had been all fickleness and 
 levity, who would have endured death itself more willingly 
 than the curtailment of the least of those licenses, which they 
 chose to call their liberty these very men now moved about 
 in silent resolution, too full of purpose to leave any room for 
 levity ! They swore no strange oaths, they kneeled humbly at 
 the confessional, they bowed themselves in awestruck adoration 
 before the shrines of their patron-saints ! They were now the 
 stuff whereof to model conquerors their minds were strung 
 to the very pitch and therefore they were well-nigh certain 
 of success. 
 
 As the night wore away, and the stars began to fade in the 
 heavens, the banner-cries of the different companies, the en- 
 seancies of ancient houses, and the gathering shout of France, 
 Montjoye ! Montjoye I St. Denis ! pealed fast and frequently ; 
 and at every cry the ready veterans announced their presence 
 at the banners of their following by the national response of 
 
166 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 Vive le rui ! The great place in the centre of the city was 
 thronged well-nigh to suffocation with armed multitudes. The 
 brave gen-d armerie of the surrounding districts, mounted on 
 small rugged horses, with brigantines of leather rudely covered 
 by scales of rusty steel, long lances, and helmets without either 
 crest or vizor Switzers in their massive coats of plate, bur 
 nished till every rivet shone like silver ; bright bacinets upon 
 their heads, and in their hands short heavy partisans with 
 blades two feet in length Genoese cross-bowmen in gaudy 
 dresses, and light shirts of chain-mail, their ponderous weap 
 ons slung across their shoulders and above all, the men-at- 
 arms, the flower of France, sheathed from crest to spur in 
 complete suits of mail and plate, and mounted upon steeds of 
 blood and bone proportioned to the weight which they sup 
 ported ; with their tilting lances eighteen feet in length, each 
 having a gay pennon streaming from the head, their axes and 
 maces slung on either hand the saddle, their huge two-handed 
 swords extending, as they sat on their tall war-horses, from 
 heel to shoulder all these groped beneath the projecting bar 
 tizans and around the Gothic cross of the market-place, and 
 partially revealed by the pale moonlight or the ruddy glare of 
 torch and cresset, presented a picture to which the gayest 
 pomp and circumstance of modern warfare are but tame and 
 insignificant. 
 
 Day broke at length, and as the expected rays shot upward 
 from the horizon, a loud nourish of trumpets swelled almost 
 painfully upon the ear, accompanied by the distant acclama 
 tions of the populace. Then might you have seen the war- 
 steeds toss their heads and paw till the pavements rang, and 
 the riders curbing them steadily and skilfully into the ranks ; 
 while the shouts of the harbingers and fouriers " H a ! de- 
 lout, messires ! debout /" and the redoubled efforts of banner- 
 men and esquires restrained them in their ranks, and mar- 
 
THE GATHERING HOSTS. 167 
 
 slialled them, after much tumult and confusion, in a huge hol 
 low square around the market-place. Nearer the trumpets 
 flourished, and nearer yet then there arose a cry a single 
 cry swelled by a thousand voices "the king! the king!" 
 Ten thousand men stood there, but not a spear clashed, not a 
 charger pawed, not a voice or whisper could be heard in that 
 vast concourse as the leaders entered the place-of-arms. 
 
 First came the pursuivants, riding two by two on snow- 
 white horses, clothed in tabards of murrey-colored satin semes 
 with fleurs-de-lis of gold, and in their hands the bannered 
 trumpets, with the royal quarterings of France glowing in rich 
 heraldic blazonry. Then came Mantjoye ! the hereditary king- 
 at-arms, in his emblazoned coat, one solid sheet of gems and 
 gold. And after him the bold Dunois, on his black Olivier, 
 sheathed in his plain dark panoply, with the bend sinister of 
 bastardy crossing the arms of Orleans on his triangular buck 
 ler, and his vizor at half-spring, showing his calm observant 
 
 eye and eagle features above the rim of the raised beaver 
 
 the plainest and the simplest, though, perhaps, the most rigid 
 ly complete in his war-array of all that gallant company. 
 There rode not there a knight, on whom the eye of one, who 
 loved like the eighth Henry to look upon a man, would have 
 dwelt with so much pleasure as on the bold Dunois. Behind 
 him came the knights and squires of his body, all armed ; and 
 after him a standard-bearer, gallantly mounted, and holding 
 aloft a banner of rich yet singular device. It was a sheet of 
 pure white damask, with a triple tressure of golden fleurs-de-lis, 
 but in the midst of there was emblazoned, with the utmost of 
 the herald s skill, a figure, which it would now be deemed the 
 worst profanity thus to mingle with preparations for carnage 
 and destruction it was the figure of the ONE ETERNAL! 
 grasping in his hands the globes celestial and terrestrial, as 
 when at the instant of creation he launched them into immen- 
 
168 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 sity ! Profane, however, and horrible as such a representation 
 would now be regarded, it was then looked upon far otherwise ; 
 as the hallowed banner was borne into the market-place every 
 footman sunk upon his knee, every cavalier bowed his crest in 
 meek adoration, every weapon of war was lowered, every ban 
 ner veiled ! * 
 
 They arose from their devotion, and before them stood a 
 pair that would have claimed the pencil of a Raphael, or the 
 pen of a Froissart, to represent them justly. On the king s 
 chestnut Arabian strong enough to be the war-horse of one 
 so slightly framed as she, who reined him in with equal skill 
 and grace snorting and champing on his bits of gold, as if 
 proud to bear so proud a rider, sat the prophet-maiden ! Her 
 head was bare, and her dark locks now streamed to the light 
 wind in spiral ringlets, now fell in heavy masses over her 
 polished forehead ; her throat was covered to the chin by her 
 bright gorget ; her corslet, cuishes, and greaves, were of azure 
 steel, damasked and riveted with gold ; a scarf of white sen 
 nit fringed with gold supported the sacred weapon of St. Denis, 
 and attached to the cantle of her demipique swung the long 
 lance of knighthood. But it was not the panoply of price, nor 
 the high-mettled charger, but the beaming eye, the glorious 
 intellect, the all-pervading soul, the untaught flexibility and 
 grace of every limb, whether in action or repose, that stamped 
 the peasant-maid of Arc as one of nature s aristocracy. 
 
 Beside her bridle-rein rode Charles the Seventh, like his 
 comrade sheathed in armor, and like her with his head un 
 covered ; but his sunny locks and bright blue eye rendered 
 his countenance, if possible, more feminine, on a slight inspec- 
 
 * The descriptions of the armor and banners here introduced, are cor 
 rectly and literally true, even to the smallest details ; the former being 
 preserved to this day in the armory of Rheims, exactly as here repre 
 sented. 
 
THE KING IN ARMOR. 169 
 
 tion, than that of the fair being at his side. His coat of plate 
 was, like the maiden s, of the choicest Milan steel, but, unlike 
 hers, was not engraved with arabesques, being covered entire 
 ly with a thin coating of gold, so admirably enamelled upon 
 the stronger metal, that no violence could have parted them, 
 and presenting the appearance of an entire suit of golden 
 armor ! His buckler was hung about his neck by a thong of 
 gilded leather plaited upon a chain, a plain field of azure with 
 the urgent fleurs-de-lis of France ; the barbings of a magnifi 
 cent bay-destrier, which he bestrode with a firm seat, yet easy 
 withal, were bright plain steel, with housings of azure velvet. 
 Two pages, in common half-armor, with steel spurs and baci- 
 nets, but neither crest or vizor, followed, bearing the plumed 
 casques of either rider ; and behind these again two others, 
 bearing, one the lance and espaldron of the monarch, the other 
 the buckler and axe of the maiden. The rear of this gorgeous 
 cavalcade was brought up by full five hundred knights of every 
 rank, and every station of renown, from the high feudatories 
 and greater barons of the crown some bearing ducal coronets 
 around their cerveillieres, and all having the broad pennon, as 
 distinguished from the banderol, attached to their long lances 
 down to the simple bannerets, and young esquires burning 
 to win their spurs in the first field of glory. As the monarch 
 advanced with the maiden to the foot of the Gothic market- 
 cross, all eyes were fixed upon him with one single expression 
 of enthusiastic love and admiration! All his youthful extrava 
 gances, all his mad passions, all his intrigues, were swept 
 away, forgotten as though they had never been, in the joy of 
 all sorts and classes of men at beholding a legitimate king of 
 France once again riding forth under shield, boldly to do or 
 die ! He spoke not, but looked slowly round the circle with a 
 cheerful eye ; he waved his hand, and the count of Harcourt, 
 one of the oldest and most noble barons of the realm, displayed 
 
 8 
 
170 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 the sacred oriflamme of France a banner of dark green satin, 
 already rent in many places, and showing the effects of time 
 which only rendered it the more venerable, charged with a 
 royal diadem of gold, surrounded by six langues of flame, 
 whence it derived its title. Never displayed but on occasions 
 the most holy and important, its very appearance on the field 
 was hailed as an auspice and almost as a pledge of victory ! 
 Scarcely was it now flung abroad to the free winds, before 
 every voice throughout the crowded ranks went up to heaven 
 in one universal soul-fraught cry " France ! France ! Mont- 
 joye ! St. Denis !" The trumpets flourished cheerily and 
 high, the word was given for the march, and with a steady 
 and increasing motion, like the flowing of a spring tide, that 
 mighty mass rolled onward, and, ere an hour had passed, the 
 streets of Blois were silent and deserted. 
 
 As soon as they had cleared the gates of the borough, they 
 moved forward with as much rapidity as was consistent with 
 good order ; and three hours had not elapsed before the van 
 guard were in view of the lines of circumvallation, which had 
 been drawn around Orleans by the English, under that con 
 summate knight and leader, the regent duke of Bedford. 
 
 At this point they made a wide circuit under the very guns 
 of the British bastions, to gain the banks of the broad Loire, 
 but strange to say no shot was fired from the heavy ordnance, 
 no arrow was sent from the green-frocked archery of England. 
 Onward they filed, and now they gained the banks, when from 
 the city rose a pealing shout the gates were thrown open on 
 the side of Beausse, and with trumpet-note and battle-cry, pen 
 non, and plume, and lance, the garrison dashed out in a bold 
 sally, charging, for the first time in many months, resolutely 
 and boldly upon the breastworks and intrenchmerits of the 
 islanders. Then were heard the mingled cries of France s 
 and England s warfare " St. George ! St. George for merry 
 
ANGLO-NORMAN ARCHERY. 171 
 
 England !" " France ! France ! Montjoye ! St. Denis !" The 
 gallant yeomanry of Lancashire and Yorkshire advanced slowly 
 and in compact array they halted. Then, as the charging 
 chivalry drew near, they stepped forward a single pace ; they 
 raised their six-foot bows, and, without a shout or a word 
 spoken, at the moving of their marshal s truncheon, let fly a 
 volley of cloth-yard arrows, shooting so wholly and together, 
 that no atmosphere was ever filled more closely with the snow- 
 flakes of December, than was the space between the hostile 
 forces with the fatal shafts of England. No species of missile 
 has ever been invented half so deadly as was the Anglo-Nor 
 man archery. The musket is superior in certainty, and, above 
 all, in the comparatively small space required for the trans 
 portation of its ammunition, but no volley of musket-shot ever 
 swept the ground, piercing through triple steel, and hurling 
 horse and man to earth, with one continual and incessant 
 shower, as did that iron storm. A few a few only of the 
 best and bravest reached the lines, protected by strong barriers 
 and steel-shod palisades but wo to the yeoman who met 
 those desperate few ! No offensive armor that could be worn, 
 by the heaviest infantry, much less the light hacquetons and 
 open morions, which, with a buckler of a hand s breadth, 
 formed the sole protection of the bow-men, could resist the 
 thundering sweep of the two-handed swords, which rose and 
 fell like ponderous engines rather than mere human weapons, 
 or the tremendous thrust of the level lance ! Boldly, however, 
 and with stubborn hearts did they make good the fight despite 
 the odds hurling their iron mallets at the heads of their 
 steel-clad antagonists, plunging their swords into the crevices 
 of the barbed armor which covered the destriers, and here 
 and there inflicting ghastly wounds on the riders themselves, 
 through plate and mail, with their national weapon, the brown- 
 hill. Anon the tramp of horses and the clank of armor an- 
 
172 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 nounced the British chivalry, as wheeling round on either 
 flank from the rear of the archery, their plumes streaming 
 backward in the current of air created by the violence of their 
 own motion, and their lances levelled to the charge, they 
 swept irresistibly over the plain. Had they thus fallen on 
 the rear of the sallying force, already galled almost beyond 
 endurance by the incessant discharge of arrows with which 
 they had been plied, not a man of all that gallant company 
 would ever have returned within the walls of Orleans. But 
 so it was not ordained ; with the steady generalship of an old 
 experienced leader, the maid had profited, in the first instance, 
 by the superstitious terror of the English outposts, who were 
 half-defeated by their consternation before a blow was struck, 
 and then by the diversion caused by the sally of the besieged. 
 Slowly and cautiously she had marshalled her army upon the 
 river bank had embarked strong reinforcements and store of 
 provisions in the galleys on the broad and beautiful river 
 had watched their progress with sail and oar, until they had 
 entered the water-gates, and until the joyous acclamations from 
 within announced that Orleans was indeed relieved. Then 
 wheeling her columns of chivalry into long lines, she advanced 
 with lance in rest, at a smart trot in beautifully accurate array, 
 to bring off the party which had so seasonably and so gallantly 
 sallied forth in her behalf. At the very moment when the 
 scanty forces of France were hemmed in, as it seemed, hope 
 lessly between the archery and the men-at-arms of England, 
 so promptly had she timed, and so skilfully executed her man- 
 O3uvre at the very point of time, the faint shout of the be 
 sieged was answered by a shrill clear voice the cry of the 
 inspired maid " God aid ! God aid! France! France and 
 victory !" The English were in turn outflanked ; and, although 
 Bedford with the almost instinctive skill that can only be ac 
 quired by minds naturally martial, and by those only after long 
 
ORLEANS RELIEVED. 173 
 
 experience, brought off his chivalry unhurt, he was neverthe 
 less compelled to abandon his prey. In sullen mood, he saw 
 the relieved garrison draw off their shattered companies he 
 saw them enter the fresh files of the maiden s marshalled host, 
 and pass off to the gates, while she, unmoved and calm amid 
 the shouting and the din, sat bareheaded beneath her mystic 
 banner ! Not a bow was bent, not a lance levelled ! The 
 very banners of the English host, the lion banners that for ten 
 long years had never been displayed, except to wave o er con 
 quered fields of glory, were furled around their staves ! The 
 spell was broken ! the most potent spell on earth, while it en 
 dures, the confidence in their own valor the certainty of 
 victory was torn from those bold islanders ; nay, more, it was 
 already transferred to their despised antagonists : for there 
 was not one French heart, of all the thousands gathered there, 
 that beat not high with self-congratulating pride and valor, as 
 the long array entered the gates of Orleans. 
 
 " Gentlemen, and knights of France princes and paladins, 
 and thou, sir king, have I, or have I not fulfilled my plighted 
 word ? I said that Orleans should be saved, and IM are with 
 in her walls ! Is she not saved already ?" Such were the 
 words of Joan, as she displayed her sacred banner, beside the 
 oriflamme of France, high on the outer walls. " As I said 
 then, so say I now ; and, as I say, so shall it be for ever ! 
 The Maid of Arc shall be forgotten in the Maid of Orleans ! 
 It is so even now ! The Maid of Orleans shall be forgotten 
 in the Maid of Rheims ! So shall it be right shortly ! On ! 
 on! nobles and knights behind ye is defeat and death, be 
 fore ye is a bright career of honor, victory, and immortal 
 fame ! On ! on ! for I have said that France shall once again 
 be free !" 
 
174 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE TEMPTATION. 
 
 Pucclle. I must not yield to any rites of love, 
 For my profession s sacred from above; 
 When I have chased all thy foes from hence, 
 Then will I think upon a recompense. 
 
 KIXG HEXRY VL 
 
 IT was a night of revelry in Orleans. The contrast between 
 the wild and joyous mirth that now rang through every court 
 and alley of the Gothic city, and the dark sullen gloom, which 
 for weeks before had brooded over its beleagured walls and its 
 well-nigh famished inmates, was as perfect as it was delight 
 ful. In place of the bent brow, and compressed lips of men, 
 nerving themselves to bear the torments of that most fell de 
 stroyer, gaunt famine in place of the pale cheek, dim eye, 
 and slight, attenuated form of the faint mothers, robbing them 
 selves of their scant sustenance, to minister to the wants of 
 their weak and wailing little ones in place of tears and 
 lamentations, deep groans, and deeper curses there might 
 now be seen on every lip a smile of heartfelt gratitude, in 
 every eye a bright expression, on every cheek, how delicate 
 and thin soever, the bright flush of new-springing hope 
 there might now be heard the jocund laugh, the loud hurrah, 
 the pealing cadence of minstrelsey arid song. 
 
 On that night, every window of the poorest and most lowly 
 habitations, was gleaming with lights of every degree of bril 
 liancy and price. From the coarse candle of unbleached tal 
 low, or the lantern of oiled paper, to the gigantic torch of vir 
 gin wax, and the lamp of golden network, all was in blaze of 
 
A NIGHT OF REVELRY. 175 
 
 lustre ; banners were waving from the casement, or Inmg from 
 lines traversing the narrow streets flowers were strewed on 
 the pavements trumpets were sending forth their wild notes 
 of rejoicing, far into the surrounding country, announcing to 
 the peasantry for miles around, that Orleans was relieved, and 
 telling to the warders of the English camp, that their reign of 
 victory was at an end, their bows broken, and their lion ham 
 pered, when in the very act of bounding on its prostrate vic 
 tim. 
 
 Wine flowed in profusion bread was distributed to all, 
 with no stint, save that of appetite muttons and beeves were 
 roasted whole in every court and square and wretches who, 
 perhaps, had been deprived of wholesome food, nay, of a suf 
 ficiency of any food, for weeks and months, now gorged them 
 selves beside the blazing bonfires, till wearied, if not satiated 
 with the feast, they sank down upon the rugged pavement, in 
 the deep slumbers of insensibility. 
 
 Nor did the very watchers, as it would seem, upon the outer 
 walls, who were placed there to guard the blessings they had 
 won, sit on their airy pinnacles without participating in the 
 general festivities. Lights might be seen glancing to and fro 
 on battlement and rampart, and here and there behind some 
 sheltering curtain, or in the angle of some salient bastion, 
 might be caught the redder glare of fires, around which the 
 heedless guards were carousing no less blithely than their 
 comrades in the streets below. It required, indeed, all the 
 attention of the provost of the watch, and captains of the guard, 
 who, through the livelong night might be distinguished by the 
 clashing of their armor, and by the exchange of watchwords, 
 as they made their hourly circuits of the ramparts, to keep 
 them to their duty ; nor were they even without fears that the 
 ever alert and energetic Bedford might profit by the relaxation, 
 or to speak more justly, by the utter absence of all discipline, 
 
176 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 to make an attack, which could hardly fail of success, on the 
 city, buried, like Troy of old, in sleep and wine. 
 
 Blithe, however, as was the merriment, and picturesque as 
 was the scene without, nothing might vie with the pomp, the 
 revelry, and the magnificence that were crowded into the wide 
 halls and echoing corridors of the Hotel de Ville. The king 
 and all his chivalry had feasted, in celebration of this their 
 first success, with the burghers and echevins of Orleans, and 
 in that feast had been concentrated all of civic luxury all of 
 regal magnificence. But the feast was ended of the pea 
 cock that had so lately graced the board decked with his 
 starry train, as when in life with gilded claws and coronetted 
 head nothing was left save a despoiled and most unseemly 
 carcass ! boars -heads from Montrichart, heronshaws and 
 egrets from the marshy woodlands of Hainault, had shared the 
 same reverse of fortunes, and having a short hour before, min 
 istered to the goodly appetites of lordly knights and their 
 queen-like da?noiselles, by the aid of steward and seneschal, 
 were now rudely torn asunder among the strife and rioting of 
 pages, and yet meaner varlets ; yet, even still, there was 
 enough in the canopied dais in the long array of seats 
 cushioned with rich furs and velvet in the display of mas 
 sive plate ewers and flasks of gold, enriched with marquetry 
 and chasings bowls rough with the designs of the earlier 
 schools of Italian art mirrors of polished steel, wherein the 
 fabled centaurs might have viewed the gigantic bulk of their 
 double frames entire torches of wax flaring and streaming in 
 the sockets of huge golden standishes flowers and rushes 
 strewed on the marble floor which had sent up their dewy 
 perfumes, mingling with the savor of rich meats, and with the 
 odorous fragrance of the wines, already celebrated, of Aix, 
 of Sillery, and of Auxerre now trampled into an unseemly 
 mass of verdant confusion and, above all, in the gay attire 
 
THE HOTEL DE VILLE. 177 
 
 and evident rank of the servitors, who yet bustled to and fro 
 in those banquet-halls deserted to mark the consequence of 
 the guests, who had thus partaken of the hospitality of the 
 merchant-lords of Orleans. 
 
 But if the banquet-chamber was mute and voiceless, not so 
 were the yet loftier halls, which stretched their long lines of 
 illuminated windows from end to end of that huge Gothic build 
 ing. From those windows pealed the rejoicing music, mingled 
 with the light merriment of girls, and the hearty merriment of 
 paladins and peers. Nor was the scene within less brilliant, 
 than the promise given by the sounds which issued into the 
 bosom of the night. A thousand torches were gleaming along 
 the walls, doubled and trebled by the reflectors of polished 
 steel or silver, that were arranged behind them banners of 
 all times and nations, covered the vaulted roof with a bright 
 canopy, that waved and rustled in every breath of air in a 
 high gallery were seated the choicest musicians of the age, 
 with every instrument then invented, to soothe the ear or glad 
 den the heart of man, by their mingled harmonies. Trumpet, 
 arid horn, and kettledrum, and cymbal, sounded in wild, yet 
 beautiful unison with the softer symphonies of harp and lute, 
 and the melodious warblings of the birdlike fife ; and ever and 
 anon the richer and more perfect note, of that most exquisite 
 of vocal instruments, the human voice, gushed forth in choral 
 strains, now unaccompanied by aught of string or wind, now 
 blended, but still distinct, in the deep diapason of that noble 
 band. But who shall describe the crowd that swayed to and 
 fro over the tesselated pavement below, in obedience to the 
 minstrelsey and music, even as the light waves of a summer 
 sea heave at the bidding of the light air, that crisps, but may 
 not curl or whiten their sparkling crests. It was not merely 
 in the deep splendor, the harmonious coloring, the picturesque 
 forms of the antiquated costume, it was not merely in the 
 
 8* 
 
178 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 plumes of heron or ostrich the snowy ermine, the three-piled 
 mantles of Genoa velvet not in the hose of sandal twined 
 with threads of silver not in the buskins of satin, or the spurs 
 of gold not in the bright gems, the medals, and the fanfaro- 
 nas not in the robes of vair and caps of maintenance, that 
 graced the stately warriors of the court. Nor yet was it in 
 the flowing trains, the graceful ruffs, the pearls wreathed in 
 the pleached and plaited hair, the diamond stomachers, and 
 chains of goldsmiths work it was not in these, that centred 
 the attraction of the glorious concourse though with these, 
 not the costliest pageantry of modern times, could for a mo 
 ment s space compare. Nor was it even more striking than 
 these the beauty, the mere personal beauty of the wearers 
 the mingled strength and grace of the knights, whose places 
 were filled no less decorously in the bower of ladies, than in the 
 strife of men the sylph-like forms, the wavy and voluptuous 
 motions, the eyes brilliant or laughing, tender or agacante, of 
 those highborn damoiselles. No, it was not in any, nor in all 
 of these. But in the aristocratic bearing, the high, full-blooded 
 look, that might be traced in the features and the forms, alike 
 of either sex ; the small and well-set heads ; the tall and 
 slight, though exquisitely rounded limbs ; the delicate hands 
 practised, however, they might be, in wielding the huge 
 espaldron, or yet more weighty battle-axe ; the blue veins ris 
 ing in bold and pencilled relief, from brow and neck ; the ex 
 panded nostrils ; and, above all, the perfect grace of every 
 movement, whether in voluptuous repose, or in the mazes of 
 the wheeling dance. It was in these rare attribu tes, that con 
 sisted the real splendor of that assemblage it was by these 
 the distinctive marks of Norman blood that the most casual 
 observer might have styled each individual there, even at a 
 moment s notice, as the descendant of some immemorial line. 
 All the magnificence might have been lavished upon a troop 
 
THE ARISTOCRATIC BEAUTIES OF ORLEANS. 179 
 
 of mendicants but lavished to no purpose. No art, no splen 
 dor, no disguise, could have metamorphosed those into the 
 most transitory likeness to nobility more than the mean 
 weeds and tattered garments could have banished from these, 
 their inborn air of aristocracy. 
 
 Hundreds there were of the most brave, of the most beauti 
 ful Agnes de Sorel, the acknowledged mistress of the king, 
 with her broad laughing eyes of blue, and her profusion of 
 sunny ringlets shadowing a neck of alabaster. Isabel de Cas- 
 telnau, her noble form and majestic expression of features, 
 well-suited to the antique head-dress, and the purple robe, 
 with a delicate merlin, perched unhooded on her wrist, gazing 
 with his wild, bright eyes into the equally brilliant mirrors of 
 his lady s soul, without manifesting the slightest wish to flut 
 ter, or to fly. Helene de Marigny, with her slender, girl-like 
 proportions, and that air of timid bashfulness, that so belied 
 her character ; Helene de Marigny, who, in her brother s ab 
 sence, roused at the dead of night by the clash of armor and 
 the trumpet-note, had seen the English foemen scaling the 
 windows of her virgin-bower ; had seen, and with no woman- 
 terror, grasped to the mortal sword, and wielded it triumphant 
 ly, till succor completed that defence, which she a fairy- 
 looking maid of seventeen had protracted so manfully and 
 well. Diane de Bourcicaut, sister to the bravest and the best 
 of Charles s young warriors. Louise de Querouaille, fairer 
 and far more chaste than her more famous namesake of after- 
 ages and last, not least, Mademoiselle, the lovely sister of 
 the king. All these were there, and others, unnumbered and 
 beautiful as the stars in a summer heaven, toying, in mere dal 
 liance, or yielding, perchance, to deeper and more real feelings, 
 as they moved in the giddy dance, or reclined on the canopied 
 settees beside those gallant lovers, who might to-morrow lie, 
 all maimed and bleeding, on the red battle-field. But among 
 
180 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 all these, the flower of France s female aristocracy among 
 all these, there was one pre-eminent pre-eminent not only 
 in her actual beauty, but in that woman grace, that free, yet 
 gentle demeanor, that airiness of motion, and exquisite propri 
 ety of manner, which are so essentially the offspring of noble 
 birth, and of unconscious practice, if not of conventual rules. 
 That one the fairest and the noblest insomuch as the eye 
 might judge by any outward token that one, was the peasant- 
 maiden ! Admired almost to adoration by the chivalrous spirits 
 of the day, and tested with the severest and most bitter criti 
 cism of those of her lovely rivals, who had seen, in too many 
 instances, the knights who had been sworn their servants, 
 desert from their allegiance, humbly and hopelessly to throw 
 their services, their homage, and their love, at the feet of the 
 inspired shepherdess. All this had she gone through, tri 
 umphantly ; in the ordeal of the banquet and the ball, she 
 had proved her noble qualities, no less completely than amid 
 the din of battle. The test of private and familiar intercourse 
 she had endured and conquered the test of that society 
 wherein enthusiasm is ridiculous, and nothing is deemed be 
 coming of a lady, save the conventional bearing of the circle, 
 whether it be of hoyden mirth, or of the habitual pose, conceal 
 ing the deepest feelings, and perchance, the wildest profligacy, 
 beneath the semblance of unmoved composure, and self-re 
 straint. 
 
 At the banquet, she had feasted beneath the canopy of state, 
 at the right of the victorious monarch through her means 
 victorious she had been served, on the knee, by knights and 
 nobles she had sipped from jewelled goblets the richest vin 
 tages of France she had seen and heard a thousand things, 
 which must have been equally new and wondrous to the vil 
 lage-girl of Domremy ; and this, too, with the consciousness 
 that hundreds of bright female eyes were reading her every 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR THE DANCE. 181 
 
 * 
 
 look, with envious eagerness, to see some breach of etiquette, 
 some symptom of embarrassment, some gaucherie, which 
 however pardonable in itself, and however naturally to be ex 
 pected in her, who had heretofore scarce heard of, much less 
 mingled on the footing of equality, with princesses and kings 
 
 might at least have justified them in pronouncing her a 
 creature beneath the notice, much more the devotion of the free 
 and noble. All this had she done, yet by no sign, no motion 
 however trivial, no expression of eye or feature, had she be 
 trayed the slightest confusion, the least consciousness of being 
 otherwise waited on, or differently respected, than from her 
 earliest childhood. 
 
 The feast was ended, and, each lady leaning on the shoulder 
 of her chevalier, the gay assembly filed, to the chiming melody 
 of instruments, through the long corridors to the halls already 
 cleared for the high dance, and as they passed along, it was 
 the arm of Charles that led in preference to wife or maiden 
 of ancestral dignity the Maid of Arc. 
 
 Mantles and plumed-hats and jewelled estocs were thrown 
 by, spurs were drawn from satin buskins, trains were looped 
 up, or quite removed by page and servitor the halls were 
 cleared the minstrels breathed into their instruments the 
 fullest soul of their vocation. Wherefore that pause it was 
 the king s to lead the festive measure the king s, who was 
 even now engrossed to utter inconsciousness of all that was 
 around him, by the strange beauty, the rich enthusiasm, and 
 above all, the naive and natural simplicity of his companion. 
 
 " Pray God, that she may dance," whispered Diane the 
 Bourcicaut, to the fair Agnes ; " pray God that she may dance 
 
 none of your canaille may attempt the pavon and fail to be 
 ridiculous. Is it not so, my Agnes ?" 
 
 With a faint smile she who was addressed looked up, but it 
 was beyond the powers of a spirit, highly strung and noble 
 
182 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 even as was hers to reply in the tones of polished raillery, 
 or to affect the air of unconcern, that would have best befitted 
 the occasion. She turned her beautiful blue eyes toward her 
 faithless lover, and though she spoke not to complain, or even 
 to regret, a large tear hung for a moment on the long dark 
 lashes, and slid slowly down that cheek, that lately might have 
 vied with all that is most sweet and warm in the created uni 
 verse, now cold and colorless as the sepulchral marble. Hers 
 was not a heart to wish for the failure of a rival in aught trivi 
 al, or of mere court-fashion. " No, no !" she murmured to her 
 self, almost unconsciously. " If in all else she be superior to 
 poor Agnes superior even to the winning from her of that 
 false heart she deemed assuredly her own, then may she con 
 quer in all else and oh, may HE be happy !" 
 
 None heard the words none heeded, or perchance under 
 stood the sorrows of the heart-wronged maiden ; but neither 
 were the light wishes expressed by Diane, nor the similar 
 hopes indulged if unexpressed by many a jealous fair one, to 
 be gratified. The maiden was too high-minded for so frivolous 
 a practice as the soulless dance, or, perchance, too circumspect 
 to attempt aught wherein she was so like to fail. It was in 
 vain that the king, the young and glorious monarch, pleaded 
 with an enthusiastic ardor, somewhat disproportioned to the 
 magnitude of the boon, for her fair hand, if it were but for a 
 single revel. The maiden was inflexible, yet Charles departed 
 not from her elbow. The music sounded clearly and high, 
 driving the blood in faster and more tumultuous currents 
 through many a bounding form the dance went on couple 
 after couple glancing or gliding, part in slow voluptuous move 
 ments, part in the giddy whirl of the swift maze. A few short 
 moments passed, and the maiden and the monarch were alike 
 forgotten. 
 
 On a solitary couch, deep set in the embrazure of a huge 
 
A ROYAL TEMPTER. 183 
 
 oriel window that overlooked the ramparts though at a long 
 distance, the maiden was reclining. Her head and exquisite 
 ly-moulded bust supported on a pile of damask cushions, and 
 the symmetrical lines of her person and her limbs scarcely- 
 perceptible by the wavy motions of her velvet robe ; but her 
 countenance was buried in her hand, and the beautiful bust 
 was throbbing, and panting, as though it were about to burst 
 with the fierceness of its own emotions. With an insidious 
 whisper, a flushed cheek, and a quickened pulse, Charles 
 knelt beside her. One of her fairy hands he had mastered, 
 spite of some feminine resistance, and held it to his bosom 
 his words were inaudible, but the purport might be easily con 
 jectured, from the effect they produced on her who listened in 
 such manifest abandonment of feeling. 
 
 She raised her speaking features there was a softness, an 
 expression of deep feeling, almost of yielding in her eye, but 
 the firmness of the chiseled mouth denied the weakness. 
 
 " Oh, sire," she said, in notes of the most harmonious soft 
 ness, in which there might be traced a shadow of reproach 
 " Oh, sire, and is it thus you would reward your savior ? I am 
 a woman a frail woman though for a special end, and by 
 a mighty God inspired but save my own weak judgment, my 
 own erring yet thanks be to the Eternal not, oh, not 
 abandoned impulses, I have no inspiration to guide me in the 
 narrow path of duty. And is it generous, or great, or kingly ? 
 is it worthy the last heir of a long line of mighty ones, to pit 
 his strength against a woman s weakness? his eloquence, 
 fervid and impassioned as it is, against her fond credulity? 
 his rank and beauty against the ignorance, the admiring igno 
 rance of her peasant-heart. For thee I have left home, and 
 friends, and country for to me my native valley was my 
 country for thee I have violated the strict laws of woman 
 hood, incurring the reproach of over-boldness and unmaidenly 
 
184 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 demeanor in donning male attire and backing the fierce war- 
 horse. All this have I done for thee ; oh, strive not, thou, to 
 rob me of my sole remaining heritage, my maiden virtue 
 my unblemished honor !" 
 
 " Oil, say not so ! most beautiful and sweetest," returned the 
 king ; " knowest thou not that kings Who may not wive them, 
 save for policy, may give their fondest love, may give their 
 hand and homage par amours, and do naught of dishonor to the 
 proudest." 
 
 " Nay ! then," she cried, springing to her feet, with the air 
 of some young Pythoness full of the oracular presence 
 "Nay, then, I will be heard selfish and base! ay, base 
 and selfish art thou! Dost think that I, I, the inspired of 
 Heaven, could bend to infamy? Dost dare to think that I, if 
 I could love a thing so exquisitely false as thou art, that I 
 would not tear out the guilty passion from my heart, though it 
 should rend the heart-strings ? But so it is not so shall it 
 never be ! In that lone valley I deserted one, who would have 
 died for me ay, died! not in your poor court-phrase, not to 
 dishonor, not to damn with the blight of his own infamy the 
 creature he pretended to adore ! but. to have called me his, his 
 in the face of Heaven. Him did I leave, not that I felt not the 
 blow which severed us not that I was senseless to his hon 
 est love not that I was ingrate or cold ; but that I had a duty, 
 a duty paramount, summoning me, trumpet-tongued, to rescue 
 thee / thou who wouldstnow destroy me, and for ever ! Now, 
 know me ! Know me, and tremble ! First know, that not for 
 ten for ten not for ten thousand crowned THINGS like thee, 
 would Joan of Orleans barter the true peasant-love of that for 
 saken one ! Know further, that even now while thou art stri 
 ving to dishonor thy defender even now the English Lion is 
 ramping at your gates even now fierce Bedford is beneath 
 your ramparts. Pray to your God, if you believe in his exist- 
 
ORLEANS AGAIN PRESERVED. 185 
 
 ence pray to your God that he give you not up for ever, to 
 your own most guilty wishes give not your country up to the 
 unrelenting islander !" 
 
 As she spoke, the long, shrill blast of a trumpet swept wail- 
 ingly over the festive city, and a remote din of arms succeeded 
 it, with the mingled cries of France s and of England s war 
 fare. In mute astonishment Charles gazed to the distant ram 
 parts, on which a deadly strife was even then in progress, 
 while the bright banners and glancing casques of the besieger 
 flashed to the moonbeams in still increasing numbers, as ladder 
 after ladder sent up its load to overpower the slumbering war 
 dens, and win the city thus relieved in vain. Thence, slowly 
 and with a faltering mien, he turned to the dilating form and 
 speaking eye -of the prophetic maid he clasped his hands, 
 overpowered with superstitious awe 
 
 " Save me," he cried, " thou holy one ; oh, save my country !" 
 
 " Swear, then," she answered ; " swear, then, by the Eter 
 nal Lord who sent me to thy succor ; swear that never again 
 thou wilt form in thy heart of hearts the base and blackening 
 thought thou didst express but now! Swear this and I will 
 save thee !" 
 
 " I swear I swear by the" 
 
 " St. Denis, ho !" cried Joan, in notes that pierced the ears 
 of the revellers like a naked sword " Montjoye ! St. Denis ! 
 and to arms! The English ho! the English! Joan! 
 Joan for France, and vengeance !" 
 
 The well-known warcry was repeated from a hundred lips. 
 The maiden snatched the banner, and the brand helmless 
 and in her woman robes she rushed into the conflict, followed 
 by thousands in their festive garb, with torch, and spear, and 
 banner! Short was the strife, and desperate. Bedford had 
 hoped to win a sleeping woman he found a waking lion. 
 After a furious, but a hopeless encounter, he drew off his 
 foiled and thwarted bands, and Orleans was again preserved ! 
 
186 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE VICTORY. 
 
 Talbot. Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight, 
 Or tear the lions out of England s coat; 
 Renounce your soil, give sheep in lion s stead: 
 Sheep run not half so timorous from the wolf, 
 Or horse or oxen from the leopard, 
 As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. 
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 A WEEK had passed since the relief of Orleans ; a week 
 of stern repose, of inaction, that was but preparatory to most 
 fierce activity. A week, like the brief, breathless pause be 
 tween the mustering of the storm-cloud and the first crash of 
 Heaven s artillery. Within the walls of the relieved city 
 unexpectedly relieved from a state of the most abject despair 
 the aspect of affairs widely changed ! Instead of the pale 
 cheek, the whispered doubt or open lamentation, the cringing 
 step, and the frame already bowed to the earth with apprehen 
 sion, might be seen the bold and fiery glance, the manly front 
 of confidence restored, the firm and martial stride ! Without 
 there was a change, if possible, more clearly visible ; a 
 change from earth-defying valor to superstitious dread, and 
 coward indecision. It was in vain that Bedford, Salisbury, 
 and Talbot, those thunderbolts of war, in war s most stirring 
 days, did all that men could do, to dispel the craven fear, to 
 relume the drooping valor of the self-same soldiery, before a 
 score of whom, a short week past, hundreds of steel-clad 
 Frenchmen would have fled, without one good blow stricken, 
 or one charger spurred to meet the onset. Nay, more than 
 
THE ENGLISH AGAIN REPULSED. 187 
 
 all, it was in vain that one transient gleam of fortune smiled 
 on their arms, that one hour of victory chequered the now 
 wonted tale of their disasters. That very smile of fortune, 
 that very glimpse of victory went farther to confirm the gloomy 
 doubts which were rising up on every side to mask the sun 
 set of their declining hopes, than the relief of Orleans had 
 already gone, or than would ten fair defeats with marshalled 
 front and fruitless fighting. They had repelled, and it was 
 true nobly repelled, and with decisive energy, a fierce attack 
 upon one of the bastions, erected by the far-sighted regent to 
 protect the lines of his blockade ; they had driven the hot 
 headed lords of France before them, as had been their wont in 
 days of old had chased them to the very sally-ports, from 
 which they had so lately issued, " defying earth and confident 
 of Heaven" Nay, so complete had been their success, that 
 for a moment they believed the city theirs but the MAIDEN 
 was not there ! Her sacred banner fluttered not in the retreat 
 nor had her battle-cry, " God aid God aid, for France and 
 vengeance !" been heard in the advance ! But as they 
 reached the city-gates, pursuers and pursued, in wild con 
 fusion, like the clear tones of a trumpet, they pealed upon the 
 air reanimating the faint hearts and failing hands of France s 
 routed sons, and striking with the cold chill of dismay to the 
 hearts of England s bravest the well-remembered cadences 
 of her war-shout ! Springing from the couch to which she 
 had retired during the heat and weariness of noon, she had 
 buckled on her armor, vaulted on her charger, and, with a 
 dozen knights and squires chance collected for the rescue, had 
 galloped forth, in time to save the rash assailants from the fate 
 which their temerity had well deserved, and once again to 
 drive the English lion from before the walls of Orleans ! 
 
 It was then evident undoubted as the sun at his meridian 
 that against the maiden s banner there could be no victory; 
 
188 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 remove that magic obstacle, and with its wonted brightness 
 blazed forth the British valor ; uplift it, and the hearts were 
 shaken, the arms paralyzed, the confidence abolished, which, 
 more than either heart or hand, had well-nigh justified the title 
 of the English monarchs to the subjugated crown of France. 
 Still was there naught of craven shrinking from the contest, 
 no thought of flight, or even of abandoning their conquests. 
 No ! not in the meanest sutler of the camp ! That stubborn 
 hardihood, that dogged insensibility to defeat, that passive en 
 durance of extremities after hope itself is dead, which has 
 ever been the characteristic of the Anglo-Saxon race, from the 
 fated day of Hastings to red Waterloo, was there displayed in 
 all its vigor. The privates, whether men-at-arms or archery, 
 held to their posts in cool defiance, and mustered around their 
 banners, if not with their accustomed alacrity, at least with 
 readiness and prompt submission ! Nor would one of the 
 sturdy knaves have shrunk from or shunned the contest, with 
 the best paladin in the court of Charles but striving to out- 
 rance against the banner, in the teeth of which he deemed his 
 valor fruitless, and victory impossible, he would have fallen 
 unyielding, with his wounds in front, and his heart undis 
 mayed ! 
 
 Such was the state of things in either host, when a general 
 assault of the English lines, at every accessible point, was re 
 solved on by the maiden and her council. The day was fixed 
 for the attack, at nearly a week s distance, nor was aught of 
 concealment or surprise so much as meditated ! On the con 
 trary, defiances were interchanged between the leaders of the 
 hostile armies, and more cartels than one were given and ac 
 cepted for mortal combat, at the head of their several divisions, 
 and at places clearly specified ! The very sentinels at the 
 extreme outposts, between whom but a few yards of unob 
 structed turf, or perhaps some puny brooklet, intervened, 
 
MASS BEFORE BATTLE. 189 
 
 exulted in the prospect of a meeting under shield, face to 
 face ! 
 
 The expected morning had at length arrived, but the sun 
 rose not in his accustomed brightness the sky was black and 
 overcast, a dense mist rose, like a body of packed smoke, from 
 the low-lands, above which the occasional elevations of the 
 country, crowned with the castellated dwellings of the nobility, 
 or with the Gothic steeple of some village-church, loomed like 
 distant islands, while it would have required no wild stretch 
 of fancy to discover in the bastions of the invaders, decked 
 with their broad banners and their woods of lances, a resem 
 blance to a fleet becalmed, or idly waiting a renewal of the 
 breeze. 
 
 The hour was yet early, when mass was finished in the high 
 cathedral ; the sacred host had been displayed to the reveren 
 tial soldiers, as they filed onward, troop after troop, bending 
 their mail-clad knees, and veiling their victorious standards, as 
 they passed the ministering priest, and received his patriotic 
 benediction, accompanied by showers of holy water, and fol 
 lowed by the pealing anthems of a full and noble choir. 
 Meekly and humbly had they knelt before the shrine the 
 young monarch and his lovely champion ! All armed, save 
 that their casques were held without by page and squire, had 
 they partaken of the eucharist ; draining, with lips that soon 
 should shout the unrelenting war-cry, or perchance quiver in 
 the pangs of violent and sudden dissolution, the typical blood 
 of the Redeemer ; and receiving, with the hands that soon 
 must reek with human gore and wield the mortal weapon, the 
 consecrated pledge of their salvation. 
 
 The rites had been concluded, the army was already mar 
 shalled on the plain under the guidance of its subalterns! 
 and now, with their attendants banner-men and esquires of 
 the body on gallant steeds varlets and couteliers on foot, 
 
190 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 but trained to run beside the charger of the lord with their 
 huge knives, misnamed of mercy, and heavy pole-axes the 
 leaders galloped from the rear to their respective stations. 
 
 Slowly the mist had been dispersing beneath the influence 
 of the sun, and of a light air from the eastward, which seemed 
 to increase with the increasing redness of the east, although 
 the vapors still clung heavily to the level plain. The mon 
 arch and the maiden had reached the centre of their lines 
 Alen9on s banner might be seen on the extreme right, though 
 its quartered bearings were invisible from the distance and the 
 darkness ; Vendome and Bourcicaut had announced their 
 presence on the left by bugle-note and banner-cry ; but it was 
 around the person of the king, and of his bright associate in 
 arms, that were mustered the pride and flower of France s 
 chivalry ! Gancourt, and La Fayette, Graville, Xaintrailles, 
 De La Hire, and the dark Dunois, each with his chosen band 
 of lances, each with his bannerol displayed, a knight of high 
 renown, were gathered there, amidst a sea of waving plumes 
 and sparkling armor. 
 
 "The time hath come, my liege," cried Joan "the time 
 hath come, when you shall see your foernen scattered before 
 your lances like chaff before the wind of Heaven ! And lo ! 
 a signal shall be given even now, and in that signal shalt thou 
 conquer ! When the first blast of our trumpets shall be heard 
 abroad when the first roar of our ordnance shall awake the 
 slumbering echoes, then shall this cloudy tabernacle be rent 
 in twain. Then shall the bright day-star shine down in un 
 obstructed glory, to witness, and to aid our daring! To your 
 posts, nobles and knights, to your posts ! and, when the sig 
 nal shall be given from on high, let each one couch his spear, 
 and spur his steed, Fof France for France and glory !" 
 
 " Away, Xaintrailles, away to these knave cannoneers, and 
 let them lay their ordnance fairly, and load it heavily !" cried 
 
THE PROPHETIC SIGNAL. 191 
 
 Duriois ; " and, when they hear a royal trumpet, let them 
 shoot on while fire and linstock hold !" 
 
 The clash of hoofs was heard, and ere a moment elapsed the 
 youthful warrior arid train were lost in the near mist-wreaths. 
 
 There was a pause of deep, deep silence ! Joan sat upon 
 her motionless and well-trained charger, gazing aloft, and to 
 ward the east, with a calm, searching eye ; not the wild glance 
 of doubt or anxiety, but the steady gaze of confident and con 
 scious faith, awaiting the confirmation of its promise. With 
 the speed of light had the prophecy been rumored through the 
 host, and though every vizor was lowered, every buckler 
 braced, and every lance lowered in preparation for the instant 
 charge though the advance of the enemy might be already 
 noted, in the heavy tramp of the approaching squadrons, and in 
 the occasional clang of armor still every eye was directed 
 heavenward, in keen anxiety for the proof of the prophet-maid 
 en s inspiration. 
 
 Was it indeed inspiration was it the divine gift of foresight 
 bestowed, on one most ignorant of the world s wisdom, for high 
 and holy purposes ? Or was it that intimate acquaintance with 
 the atmospheric phenomena, so often possessed by those whose 
 duty it is to tend their flocks on the upland pasture or in the 
 mountain-valley, operating now on her enthusiastic and zealous 
 temperament, that caused the peasant-maiden to predict occur 
 rences, which were in truth about to be fulfilled ; thus deceiv 
 ing alike herself and those who followed her ? 
 
 The sounds of the approaching foemen rose clearly and 
 more clearly on the ear ; the very words of the leaders might 
 be heard in the deep hush of expectation, and now, through 
 the intervening mist, might be seen, dimly and ghost-like, the 
 long array of the invaders. The maiden cast a quick glance 
 to the king, and, catching his assent from the motion of his 
 closed helmet, flung her hand aloft 
 
192 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 " Now trumpets !" she cried " sound ! sound for France ! 
 Montjoye ! St. Denis !" 
 
 A single clear bla.st arose, blown from the silver-trumpet of 
 a pursuivant who stood beside her stirrup shrilly was it pro 
 tracted, without nourish or variation, till caught up, and re 
 peated from a thousand brazen instruments. While their 
 screaming cadences were yet deafening every ear, and thril 
 ling every heart, a sharp crash, a deep, hoarse roar, burst forth 
 on the extensive right. Crash after crash, roar after roar, the 
 stunning voice of the newly-invented ordnance rolled along the 
 front. For a moment s space the darkness was increased 
 the smoke from the artillery rolled thickly back upon the lines 
 there was a stir in the atmosphere, a quick, shivering mo 
 tion a cold breath the banners fluttered wildly, the feathers 
 tossed, and fell again, and then streamed out at length, and all 
 in one direction. A fresh breeze swept down from the east 
 ward, and, like a huge curtain raised by unseen machinery, the 
 whole volume of mingled smoke and mist surged upward, was 
 swept violently away, and, in less time than the narration oc 
 cupies, was curling in scattered vapors over the far horizon. 
 As the fog lifted, the glorious sun burst forth, not gradually or 
 with increasing splendor, but in one rich, sudden flood of 
 glory. The animated scene was kindled as if by magical il 
 lumination ; from flank to flank, each host was visible a line 
 of polished steel, with its bright lance-heads twinkling aloft 
 like stars, and its emblazoned banners of a thousand mingled 
 hues, floating and nestling on the breath of morning. 
 
 Louder than the trumpet s clamor, louder than the thunders 
 of the ordnance as the maiden s signal was given, as she 
 had said it, from on high pealed the exulting shout of those 
 assembled myriads. A thousand spurs were dashed into the 
 horses flanks, a thousand lances levelled, and a thousand differ 
 ent war-cries shouted aloud, as the French chivalry rushed to 
 
THE BATTLE. 193 
 
 the onset. Their infantry had been drawn up in solid columns 
 of reserve, while the archery and yeomen of the English force 
 were posted within the lines, which were fortified by a long 
 trench and palisade, strengthened at intervals by half-moons 
 of stone, and masked by scattered shrubs and coppice. The 
 charge was, therefore, horse to horse, and knight to knight ; 
 but fiercely as the main bodies rushed to the encounter, they 
 were yet outstripped by a score of leaders, on either side, who 
 galloped forth to redeem their plighted words, and win them 
 glory before men, and love of ladies. 
 
 The king and Dunois were the foremost, but ere they had 
 met their antagonists, a third rider was abreast of these. The 
 azure panoply and scarf, the chestnut charger, the slender 
 form, and more than manly grace, announced the MAIDEN. 
 
 Nor were the English champions slower in the shock Tal- 
 
 bot spurred out, and Salisbury, and young De Vere. D Alen- 
 9011 was opposed by Somerset, and the wise regent couched 
 his lance against the breast of Dunois. On they came, with 
 the rush of the whirlwind a long series of single combats. 
 The bay destrier of D Alengon went down before the spear of 
 Somerset but De Vere s life-blood streamed on the unsplin- 
 tered lance of Bourcicaut. The king had met the noble Salis 
 bury in stout equality their lances splintered to the grasp, 
 their steeds recoiling on their haunches, told the fury of the 
 shock. The maid had couched her untried weapon against no 
 less a warrior than the gallant Talbot, as she charged side by 
 side with the bold bastard. But, had the lance of that un 
 rivalled warrior met with no more resistance than the virgin s 
 feeble thrust, that day had ended her career. Fair and knight 
 ly did she bear her weapon against his triple-shield, but his 
 lance-point, levelled at her crest, encountered the bars of her 
 elastic vizor ; it caught firm hold, and spurring his steed more 
 fiercely on, he had well nigh borne her from the selle. But 
 
 9 
 
194 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 there was one who marked her peril ; Dunois, even in the in 
 stant of the shock, beheld her overmatched, and well nigh con 
 quered. With a devotedness of valor well worthy of the best 
 cavalier of France, he turned his lance, from his own antago 
 nist, against the helm of Talbot, meeting the overpowering 
 charge of Bedford, with undaunted, although unresisting firm 
 ness. It was over in an instant : Talbot, although unharmed 
 by the slight charge of Joan, was hurled to earth, as by a thun 
 derbolt, on meeting the unlooked-for weapon of Dunois, in the 
 same instant that his conqueror went down before the unhin 
 dered shock of Bedford. 
 
 The dark tresses of the maiden streamed upon the air, her 
 ecstatic eye, her flushed brow, and speaking lineaments, were 
 exposed to the brunt of battle ; for the lacings of her casque 
 had broken, and she had escaped being unhorsed, only by the 
 scarce inferior peril of being thus violently unhelmed. Still 
 she was unshaken in her seat, and, as she was borne forward 
 by her mettled steed, swinging her bright espaldron above her 
 head, she looked rather an avenging angel, than a mortal war 
 rior. In the rush, Bedford had been carried over his fallen 
 antagonist, ere he could check his charger ; and, as he turned 
 to renew the combat, the maiden wheeled round likewise to 
 rescue her preserver. 
 
 "God aid!" she cried "God aid! The virgin to the 
 rescue !" and as his eyes were directed downward to the un 
 horsed Dunois, who had already gained his feet and grasped 
 his massive axe,_she smote him on the casque with the full 
 sweep of her two-handed blade. Sparks of fire flashed from 
 the concussion, and the stout regent reeled in his saddle. An 
 other second, and the axe of Dunois fell on the chamfront of 
 steel that protected his charger s brow, and, dashing it to atoms, 
 sunk deeply into the brain of the animal. Down went Bedford, 
 and over him stood his conqueror, with his poniard already 
 
THE VICTORY. 195 
 
 pointed to the barred vizor, and his deep voice summoning 
 him to surrender. But the summons was premature, a score 
 of English knights rushed to the rescue, while the king, with 
 La Fayette, Xaintrailles, and De La Hire, bore down to the 
 support of his companions. Long would it be, and tedious, to 
 recount the deeds of arms that were performed, the brilliant 
 valor that was there displayed. The melee was fought out by 
 the best knights of France and England, and fought with equal 
 vigor ; but fate was, on that day, adverse to the bold invaders. 
 At this point in their line, and at this point only, did they hold 
 the battle in suspense ; in every other part of the field they 
 were already foiled, and in retreat ; and now, as the chivalry 
 of Charles, by the defeat of their immediate opponents, was 
 enabled to concentrate their forces, Bedford, and Salisbury, 
 and Talbot, whose backs no Frenchman had ever seen before, 
 were fain to extricate themselves, as best they might, and re 
 treat to their entrenchments. Nor was this last effort success 
 ful, till they had left a fearful number of their best and bravest 
 outstretched, never again to rise upon the bloody plain. Foot 
 by foot, they retreated, bearing up dauntlessly against their 
 overwhelming foes, and giving, the foremost of their adversa 
 ries deep cause to rue their rashness. Bourcicaut fell, cloven 
 to the teeth by Salisbury the right-arm of La Fayette was 
 shattered by the mace of Somerset the blood was gushing 
 in a dozen places from the sable armor of Dunois, and the 
 golden panoply of Charles was broken, and besmeared with 
 dust and gore. 
 
 Still not a man of those bold barons, but must have fallen, 
 or yielded them to the courtesy of their antagonists, had not 
 the tide of battle swept them, pursuers and pursued alike, to 
 the vicinity of the British line. Then rose once more the 
 jovial island shout " St. George ! St. George for merry Eng 
 land !" A heavy and incessant shower of cloth-yard shafts 
 
196 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 came sailing over the heads of the retreating party, and fell 
 with accurately-measured aim, and terrible effect, into the 
 crowded ranks of the pursuers. Then came the roar of ord 
 nance ; in a dozen spots the ponderous balls of stone or metal 
 ploughed their paths of devastation through the French col 
 umns ; while under cover of their archery, the discomfited 
 islanders filed slowly into their entrenchments Charles draw 
 ing off his troops, in order to reform his array, and give his 
 men brief space for refreshment and repose, ere he should 
 make his final effort on the position of the half-conquered 
 Bedford. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE ASSAULT. 
 
 "There the breach lies for passage, the ladder to scale; 
 And your hands on your sabres, and how should ye fail? 
 He who first downs with the red-cross may crave 
 His heart s dearest wish; let him ask it, and have!" 
 Thus uttered Coumourgi the dauntless vizier; 
 The reply was the brandish of sabre and spear, 
 And the shout of fierce thousands in joyous ire: 
 Silence hark to the signal fire." 
 
 SIEGE OF CORINTH. 
 
 THE din of battle ended suddenly as it had commenced ; 
 the weary and discomfited forces of the islanders were now 
 concealed behind their palisades, save here and there a soli 
 tary warder, pacing to and fro on the low bastions, his steel-cap 
 and spear-point flashing back the rays of the noontide sun. 
 The long array of France, which had fallen orderly and slowly 
 back without the flight of arrow or the range of ordnance, 
 
BRIEF INTERVAL OF QUIET. 197 
 
 might be seen midway between the town and the works of the 
 besiegers. Horses were picqueted, and outposts stationed 
 along their front ; while, their weapons stacked, their helmets 
 unlaced, and their bodies cast leisurely on the ground, the 
 troops enjoyed to the utmost their brief interval of truce. 
 Camp fires had been lighted, and their smoke curled peace 
 fully in fifty places toward the bright sky above them ; sutlers 
 had come out from the town, beeves had been slaughtered, 
 wine-casks broached, and without a sign of revelry, or wild 
 debauch, the army feasted after their noonday strife. 
 
 At a short distance in advance of the line occupied by the 
 main body of the forces, there stood a magnificent elm-tree, 
 the only one in sight, which had risen in height sufficient to 
 protect those beneath its shadow from the glare of a meridian 
 sun. Immediately from under its roots a pure cold spring 
 welled forth into a basin of stone artificially, though roughly, 
 hewn to receive its waters ; and trickling thence in a small 
 but limpid streamlet wound its way toward the distant river. 
 Beneath this tree, and around the basin of the spring, a group 
 of warriors was collected whom the slightest glance might 
 have discovered to be of no ordinary rank ; their splendid 
 arms, their gallant steeds, let forth and backward by squires 
 of gentle birth and gay attire, and their emblazoned banners 
 pitched into the ground beside their place of rest, designated 
 at once the leaders of the host. 
 
 A wide sheet of crimson damask had been spread out upon 
 the turf ; bottians of leather or flasks of metal were plunged 
 into the vivid waters to cool their rich contents ; goblets of 
 gold, and dishes already ransacked, were mingled in strange 
 confusion with sculptured helmets, jewelled poniards, and the 
 hilts of many a two-handed blade cast on the sod in readiness 
 to the grasp of its bold owner. 
 
 The visage of the king was flushed, and his eye sparkled 
 
198 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 with the intoxication, not of the grape, but of his recent vic 
 tory. Nor did the brow of Dunois wear its wonted gravity ; 
 gay words and boasts, rendered less offensive by their prowess 
 of the morning, passed among the younger knights ; but on 
 the lips of Joan there was no smile, and in her eye no flash ; 
 steadfastly gazing on the heavens, she sat with a deep shade 
 of melancholy on her chiselled lineaments, resembling rather 
 some sad captive waiting the hour of her doom, than a prophet 
 ess whose words had been accomplished a warrior whose 
 first field had been a triumph. 
 
 " Why lies so deep a shadow on the brow of our fair cham 
 pion ?" cried the youthful monarch. " In such an hour as this 
 sadness is ominous, and open melancholy treason ! Cheer 
 thee, bright being the king drinks to his preserver !" and, 
 suiting the action to the word, he filled a goblet with the man 
 tling wine of Auvergnat, and tendered it to the silent maiden. 
 " One more carouse," he said, " and then to horse, to horse, 
 and we will win the trenches of those dog-islanders ere the 
 sun sinks on the lea !" 
 
 " And you are then determined," she replied in tones of sor 
 rowful, not angry, import ; " and you are then determined to 
 risk all honor, life, victory, your country s hope, your peo 
 ple s happiness, by this mad haste, this rash and obstinate im 
 piety ! I tell you now, as heretofore I told you, be patient 
 and victorious be rash, and infamy shall fall on you; the 
 infamy of flight, and terror, and defeat !" 
 
 " I am determined !" was the cool and somewhat haughty 
 answer ; " I am determined to force these ramparts ere I 
 sleep this night ; or under them to sleep that sleep which 
 knows no earthly waking !" 
 
 " And thou shalt force those ramparts wilt thou but tarry. 
 Tarry till the shadows of this elm-tree fall far eastward ; till 
 the sun hath stooped within a hand s breadth of the horizon ; 
 
A WARNING DISREGARDED. 199 
 
 <* 
 
 tarry till then, and thou shalt conquer advance now, and, tis 
 I that say it I, Joan of Orleans advance now, and thou 
 shalt rue the hour !" 
 
 " Nay, maiden," replied Dunois, who hitherto had sat a 
 silent, though not interested, listener, " for once must I oppose 
 thee ; to tarry would be but to give space to the troops of Bed 
 ford to shake off their superstitions to ours to lose their con 
 fidence of glory. To tarry is defeat to advance, victory! 
 victory as surely as steel blade and silver hilt may hold 
 together !" 
 
 " I say to thee, Dunois," she answered, " the ways of the 
 Most High are not the ways of man ! He who hath raised a 
 peasant-girl to be a royal leader, can turn defeat to victory, 
 and triumph to most foul disaster. Neither if ye advance, as 
 well I know ye will, shall the steel blade and silver hilt hold, 
 as their wont, together ! Seeing, thou shalt believe, and suf 
 fering, tremble !" 
 
 " Enough !" shouted the impatient king ; " enough of this 
 sound trumpets, and advance !" 
 
 No further words were uttered, nor had one spoken could 
 the import of his speech have been discovered, among the clang 
 ing of the trumpets, the wild shouts of the troopers hurrying to 
 their ranks, the tramp of the cavalry, and the breathless din of 
 the advance. 
 
 The maiden turned her dark eyes plaintively upward ; she 
 stretched her arms slowly apart, and with a gaze of mute ap 
 peal prayed silently. Her brief orisons at an end, she too 
 buckled her weapon to her side, laced her plumed helmet, and 
 haughtily rejecting the proffered aid of Charles, vaulted, with 
 out the use of rein or stirrup, into her steel-bound demipique. 
 The host was already in motion marching in four solid 
 columns against the besiegers lines ; the knights and men-at- 
 arms dismounted from their destriers, crowding the front, on 
 
200 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 foot, with mace, and battle-axe, and espaldron, instead of lance 
 and pennon ; their hoods of mail drawn closely over their 
 crested helmets, their small triangular bucklers flung aside, 
 and each protected from the missiles of the British by his 
 huge pavesse of polished steel without device or bearing, six 
 feet in height, and three in breadth, borne by his squire before 
 him. Behind this powerful mass came on the pioneers, with 
 axe and mattock, fagots and piles, to undermine the walls, 
 ladders to scale their summits, and mantelets of plank covered 
 with newly-severed hides, huge machines, beneath the protec 
 tion of which to labor at the walls in safety. In the rear the 
 light-armed followed : archers, and crossbowmen, and javelin- 
 eers, and slingers. It was, indeed, a host to strike dismay 
 into the hearts of the defenders, as it advanced steadily and 
 silently, with the deep silence of resolve, right onward to the 
 bastion. 
 
 At the head of the right-hand column rode the monarch, 
 that to his left commanded by Dunois Gaucourt and De La 
 Hire leading the others ; and the maiden, who had refused to 
 serve save as a private lance, riding in sullen apathy beside 
 the bridle-hand of the bold bastard. At a short mile s distance 
 the columns halted, while Dunois and the leaders galloped for 
 ward, confident in their coats of plate, to reconnoitre the posi 
 tion of the heavy ordnance, the effects of which they had too 
 terribly experienced to endure without an effort at avoidance 
 a second discharge, which to troops in solid column must have 
 carried certain destruction. Boldly they performed their duty, 
 dashing up to within twenty paces of the outworks, under a 
 storm of bolts and shafts, that rattled against their armor as 
 closely, but as harmlessly, as hail-stones on a castle-wall. 
 Two batteries were at once discovered, and as the rude artil 
 lery of that day, placed, when about to be discharged, on mo 
 tionless beds of timber, and dragged, when on the march, by 
 
THE CHARGE. 201 
 
 teams of oxen, could not be made to traverse or command any 
 other points than those on which it had been previously laid, 
 there was but little fear of so arranging the advance as to 
 avoid their fatal fire. Still as he returned the last from his 
 reconnoissance, Dunois was ill at ease. " There should be 
 yet another," he muttered ; " and to encounter it were certain 
 ruin. A murrain on that wily regent ; now hath he masked it 
 cunningly !" 
 
 But there was no space for further parley ; with the 
 bray of the trumpets, and the deep clang of the kettle-drum, the 
 signal for the charge was given ; the soldiery of France de 
 ployed from column into line, and with a quickened step and 
 levelled weapons rushed forward to the assault. At the dis 
 tance of some fifty paces from the works of the besiegers, the 
 ground was rugged and broken, the channel of a dry rivulet 
 running the whole length of their front, its banks scattered 
 with blocks of stone, and thickly planted with thorny shrubs. 
 The troops, which had been formed obliquely to avoid the fire 
 of the artillery, had advanced into this difficult pass before they 
 were well aware of its existence, and before meeting with any 
 opposition from the enemy. The most broken ground had been 
 selected by Dunois as the point of attack, hoping by that 
 means to escape the range not only of the two batteries, which, 
 having been discovered, he had already guarded against, but 
 that of a third which had been so cunningly masked, as to 
 defy the closest observation. Well, however, as this had been 
 devised, it so fell out that the column of the king, which, part 
 ly through the obstinacy of the royal chief, and partly from the 
 ill advice of leaders jealous of the gallant bastard, had failed 
 to deploy with the remainder of the host, advanced blindly in 
 its crowded ranks upon the very muzzles of the concealed ord 
 nance. Hitherto not a symptom of resistance had appeared ; 
 not a man had been seen upon the English ramparts ; not a 
 
 9* 
 
202 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 banner was displayed, not a trumpet blown. But at this in 
 stant when the line had been compelled to halt, within half 
 bow-shot of the bastions, while the pioneers, with axe and 
 mattock, were clearing the ground in their front at this in 
 stant the wailing note of a single bugle rang from within the 
 works. Ere the signal had well reached the assailants, the 
 rampart was thronged from end to end with thousands of the 
 green-frocked archery of England ; again the bugle was wind 
 ed, and at that brief distance the cloth-yard shafts fell in one 
 continuous volley, darkening the air with their numbers, and 
 almost drowning the shouts of the battle with their incessant 
 whizzing. Close, however, as they fell and bodily, each ar 
 row there was aimed at its peculiar mark ; and each, with few 
 exceptions, was buried feather-deep in the breast of a French 
 skirmisher. It was in vain that they replied to that blighting 
 volley with cross-bow, bolt, and javelin, no missiles could com 
 pete with that unrivalled archery ; the advance was strewn 
 upon the ground in heaps of slaughtered carcases ; the host 
 wavered and was about to fly but then arose the trumpet- 
 like shout of Dunois. 
 
 " On ! on ! Orleans ! Orleans ! to the rescue ! Close up ! 
 close up ! even to the palisades ; it is but a distance that 
 their shot is deadly." 
 
 And, seconding his words by deeds, the powerful knight 
 rushed forth, bearing his pavesse high on his left arm, and his 
 massive axe sweeping in circles round his head a dozen 
 arrows struck him on the crest and corslet and glanced off 
 harmlessly on he rushed, though every step was planted on 
 a writhing corpse, and none came on to second him he 
 reached the base of the rampart, his axe smote on the timbers 
 of the palisade, and down came stones, and beams, and shaft, 
 and javelin, ringing and rattling upon his heavy shield and 
 panoply of proof ; yet he heeded them no more than the oak 
 
THE BREACH. 203 
 
 heeds the thistle-down that floats upon the summer wind. 
 Valor, like terror, is contagious ; with a mighty effort a dozen 
 knights broke through the throng of their own disordered sol 
 diery, and forced their way to the side of the bold bastard 
 but not like him unharmed ; an arrow skilfully directed against 
 the vizor of young Delaserre, shot through the narrow aper 
 ture, and clove his brain ; a ponderous axe, hurled from the 
 hand of Salisbury, crushed through the cerveilliere of Mont- 
 morency, as though it were a bowl of crystal ; yet still un 
 dauntedly they hurried on and now they joined their leader. 
 The dust already eddying upward, the heavy masses of wood 
 and timber that rolled down beneath his ponderous blows, 
 showed that his attack was prosperous as it was gallant. The 
 din of blows given and taken, hand to hand, between or above 
 the broken palisades, was mingled with the hurtling of the ar 
 rows, the shouts or cries of the fierce combatants. 
 
 " On ! on !" the voice of Dunois rose again above the confu 
 sion "On! on! the breach is opened! Orleans and vic 
 tory !" but as he spoke, a stone heavier than any yet hurled 
 against him, fell from a huge machine full on his lifted pavesse ; 
 his arm fell powerless by his side, and the tall warrior reeled 
 backward from the breach, dizzy and helpless as a child but 
 yet more evil was the fate of his companions ; one dropped, 
 crushed out of the very form of humanity, by the same stone ; 
 and then a flood of boiling oil was showered upon the heads 
 of the weak and wearied remnant. 
 
 "St. George for merry England ! forward brave hearts, 
 and drive them from our palisades !" and with the word, Bed 
 ford and Huntingdon leaped down with axe and espaldron, 
 while many a youthful aspirant rushed after them in desperate 
 emulation. The gallant Dunois, roused like a wearied war- 
 horse to the fray, fought fearlessly and well ; yet his blows 
 fell no longer, as was their wont, like hammers on the anvil 
 
204 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 his breath came thick, the sweat rolled in black drops through 
 the bars of his vizor ; he staggered beneath the blade of Bed 
 ford. At this perilous moment, a roar, louder than the ocean 
 in its fury, louder than the Alpine avalanche, burst on their 
 sens< - S. " God aid the king," cried Dunois, even in this 
 extremity careless of his own peril "it is the British ord 
 nance !" 
 
 The smoke rolled like a funeral pall over the fray, that still 
 raged beneath it ; and a mingled clamor, as of thousands in 
 agony and despair, smote on the ears and appalled the hearts 
 of the half-conquered Frenchmen. The column of the king 
 had advanced upon the very muzzles of the ordnance, as with 
 heavy loss from the archery they too had passed the channel 
 of the stream, and had but narrowly escaped annihilation. A 
 mounted messenger came dashing through the strife, " Draw 
 off your men, Dunois," he shouted from a distance ; " draw off 
 
 no victory to-day !" 
 
 But he shouted to no purpose, for the bold ear which he ad 
 dressed was for a space sealed in oblivion deep as the grave 
 his well-tried sword had shivered in his grasp, stunned by 
 the sweeping strokes of Bedford he had fallen, and must 
 there have perished, had not a young knight, in azure panoply, 
 bestriven him, and battled it right gallantly above his senseless 
 form. 
 
 It was the maiden ! Fresh and unwearied she sprang to 
 the strife from which she had refrained before, and he, her 
 terrible antagonist, the unvanquished Bedford, reeled before 
 her blows. 
 
 Gathering himself to his full height as he retreated from the 
 sway of her two-handed blade, he struck a full blow with his 
 axe upon her crest, and again the treacherous helm gave way 
 
 her dark hair streamed on the wind, and her eagle eye met 
 his with an unblenching gaze ; at the same point of time an ar- 
 
THE VICTORY. 205 
 
 row grazed her neck, and quivered in the joint of her gorget. 
 " Fly ! fly !" shouted the crowd behind her, who had again 
 rallied during her combat with the regent "fly! fly! the 
 maid is slain !" 
 
 " Fly not, vile cravens fly not/ she cried in tones clearer 
 than human, as she pressed bare-headed after the retreating 
 Bedford "fly not, the time hath come, and victory is ours ! 
 Joan! Joan! to the rescue ! Victory! God sends God 
 sends us victory ! The sun is in the west our toils are 
 ended !" 
 
 At her high voice, many an eye was turned toward the west 
 ern horizon, and her well-remembered prophecy cheered their 
 faint hearts and nerved their faltering courage. The day had 
 been spent, had been forgotten, in the fearful strife, and the 
 sun was hanging like a shield of gold a hand s breadth high in 
 the horizon. Like wild-fire in the stubblefield the clamor 
 spread " Heaven fights for France ! Victory ! God sends 
 us victory !" and still, at the cry, they pressed onward with re 
 newed vigor to the breach. It was in vain that Salisbury and 
 Talbot strove that Bedford plied his axe, taking a mortal life 
 at every blow for a panic, a fatal, superstitious panic, had 
 seized on their victorious countrymen. At every charge of 
 the encouraged Frenchmen at every repetition of the cry, 
 " Heaven fights for France," they shrunk back timid and 
 abashed ; and it was of necessity, though with evident reluc 
 tance, that the leaders of the English war gave orders to with 
 draw the men from the sally, and trust only to the defence of 
 their entrenchments. 
 
 There was a brief pause a silence like that which pre 
 cedes the burst of the thunder-cloud as Joan arrayed her 
 followers "Forward," she cried, "and conquer! Heaven 
 has given us the strength the valor and the victory! 
 Forward and conquer !" and with the word, the living torrent 
 
206 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 was let loose against the breach. It was but a girl a weak,- 
 bare-headed girl that led them, mingling in deadly strife 
 with the best champions of the day ; yet superstition and suc 
 cess were stronger than the shield or crested casque. Her 
 cry struck terror to the hearts of the defenders ; her sword 
 was scarcely parried in its sweeping blows ; her foot was 
 planted on the summit of the breach ; her sacred banner floated 
 above her head. From point to point her prophecy had been 
 accomplished ; the sun had sunk in the west, and his last rays 
 had shone upon the triumph of the French upon the rout, 
 the carnage, and the desolation of their island foemen. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE CORONATION. 
 
 Lord Bishop, set the crown upon his head. 
 
 KING HENRY VI 
 
 THE capture of the English lines at Orleans was not a soli 
 tary or unsupported triumph of the French. On the succeed 
 ing morning not a trace of the discomfited islanders could be 
 discovered from the walls of the long-beleagured city, save 
 the shattered and deserted bastions so lately occupied by their 
 green-frocked archery, and the heaps of their unburied dead, 
 which choked the trenches, and tainted the pure atmosphere 
 with their charnel exhalations. Nor was this all. The con 
 fidence of France had been restored to a degree unwonted, if 
 not unknown, before. The virgin fought not but to conquer. 
 Gergeau was taken by assault ; the daring girl mounting the 
 foremost, and carrying the walls, though wounded, with un- 
 
TO RHEIMS ! 207 
 
 daunted spirit. Beaugency opened its gates at the first sum 
 mons ; and the British garrison, which had retired to the 
 castle, yielded on fair condition. Roused from his long in 
 action by this series of bright successes, the constable of 
 France levied his vassals to share the triumphs of the royal 
 army. Nor were the English idle. Bedford, who had by 
 dint of unexampled perseverance collected some six thousand 
 men to reinforce the relics of the host which, under the brave 
 but wary Talbot, still kept the field, effected his junction at 
 Patai-en-Beauce, but effected it not unmolested. " We must 
 give battle," cried the heroic Joan ; " we must give battle to 
 the English were they horsed upon the clouds ay ! and 
 equip ourselves with right good spurs for the pursuit." 
 
 She fought again, and was again successful ; and this day 
 more than all decided the fortunes of the land. The British 
 troops, struck down from their high pitch, heart-sick with super 
 stition, and half-defeated before a blow was stricken, scarcely 
 awaited the first onslaught of the French, who charged with a 
 degree of confidence that insured the result by which it was so 
 fully justified. 
 
 And now the object of the maiden s mission was brought 
 forth in council. " To Rheims," she cried, " to Rheims ! it is 
 the will of God !" To every argument that was adduced 
 against her, she had no other answer. " To this end am I in 
 spired to this end was I sent that I should conduct this 
 son of France in triumph to the walls of Rheims, and crown 
 him with the diadem of Clovis. The way is clear before us 
 the sword of the Most High hath fallen on the foes of 
 France the victory lacks only its accomplishment!" 
 
 It was in vain that Richmont the gallant constable opposed 
 the scheme as visionary, the march as desperate. The 
 haughty spirit of Charles himself was now aroused, and his 
 best counsellors, Dunois, La Hire, and D Alen9on, approved 
 
208 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 the project. The recent services of Richmont were all forgot 
 ten ; his disgrace ensued, and in solitude he learned that to 
 say unwelcome truths to princes is a counterpoise to the most 
 exalted merit, to the most splendid virtues. 
 
 The army marched through a waste tract of country, occu 
 pied by the troops of England, hostile or disaffected ; without 
 provisions, equipage, or baggage ; with banners waving, and 
 music pealing, like some gay procession in the high-tide of 
 peace, the army marched for Rheims. No human forethought 
 could have calculated the effect no human intelligence could 
 have divined the wonderful result. Defeat, destruction, and 
 despair, could only have been looked for these the natural, 
 the almost certain consequences of such a step. They marched, 
 and every fortress sent its keys to Joan in peaceable submis 
 sion ; every city threw its gates apart for her admission ; the 
 country people flocked in thousands to behold the pomp, to 
 glut their eyes with gazing on the heavenly maiden, to tender 
 their allegiance to the king to bless, and almost to adore the 
 savior of their country. Not a fort was guarded by the British 
 archery ; not a bridge was broken to delay her progress ; not 
 an enemy was seen throughout the march. The spirit, the 
 enthusiastic spirit of the prophet-maiden, had spread like a 
 contagious flame throughout the land ; the confidence in her 
 had wrought the miracle ; the valor of the determined was 
 augmented ; the doubts of the wavering dispersed ; the fears 
 of the timid put to flight. Beneath the walls of Troyes, for 
 the first time, was her career disputed. The Drawbridges 
 were up ; the frowning ramparts bristled with pikes and par 
 tisans ; the heavy ordnance levelled, and the lintstocks blazing 
 in the grasp of the Burgundian cannoniers. 
 
 The army was arrayed for the assault ; ladders were hastily 
 collected ; mantelets and pavesses were framed as best they 
 might be, on this emergency unlocked for and ill-omened. 
 
AT TROYES. 209 
 
 The bold visage of Dunois was graver than its wont, and the 
 gay jest died on the lips of D Alen^on. Well did those poli 
 tic commanders know that to be checked was in itself destruc 
 tion. Founded upon the widely-credited report that their suc 
 cess was certain, it was indeed secure. But let that supersti 
 tious faith be shaken, and the spell was broken. Let but the 
 English learn that victory were not impossible, and they would 
 be again victorious. Let but the French discover that Joan 
 might be defeated, and they would faint again and fly before 
 their foemen. Now, then, was to be the touchstone of their 
 power, the proof of their success; and now it would be 
 scarce too much to say those undaunted leaders trembled, 
 not for themselves, nor with a base and coward fear ; but with 
 a high and patriotic apprehension for the safety of their coun 
 try and their king, for the accomplishment of their designs, 
 for the well-being of the myriads intrusted to their charge. 
 
 Bows were already bent, and lances levelled, when the 
 maid herself rode forth. All armed, from spur to gorget, in 
 her azure panoply, but with her beaming features and dark 
 locks uncovered by the cerveilliere or vizor of her plumed hel 
 met, she rode forth a bow-shot in the front. The consecrated 
 banner was elevated in her right hand, while with her left 
 she turned and wound the fiery charger with an "easy govern 
 ment, that well might be considered the result of supernatural 
 powers. Her sheathed sword hung by its embroidered bal- 
 drick from the shoulder to the spur ; her mace-at-arms and 
 battle-axe were ready at the saddle-bow ; her triangular shield 
 of Spanish steel was buckled round her neck ; yet fully equip 
 ped for war, her errand was of peace. 
 
 " Jesu Maria !" she cried, " good friends and dear," in ac 
 cents so trumpet-like in their intense and thrilling clearness, 
 that every ear in either host caught the sounds, and every 
 bosom throbbed at their import. " Good friends and dear 
 
210 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 for so with you it rests to be lords, burgesses, inhabitants 
 of this fair town of Troyes, the virgin, Joan, commands ye 
 that ye may know it from the King of heaven, her liege and 
 sovereign lord, in whose most royal service she abideth every 
 day that you shall make true homage to this gentle king of 
 France, who soon shall be at Rheims, and soon at Paris, who 
 standeth now to the fore ! By the help of your King, Jesus, 
 true and loyal Frenchmen, come forth to succor your king, 
 Charles so shall there be no blame !"* 
 
 For a moment there was a pause but for a moment only. 
 The spears fell from the hands of the defenders ; the banners 
 were lowered ; the gates opened. The Burgundian garrison 
 retired ; the citizens of Troyes rushed forth with joyful ac 
 clamations, casting themselves prostrate before the charger of 
 the maiden, covering her stirrups with their kisses, and shed 
 ding tears of unfeigned happiness. 
 
 The army reached the brow of the last hill that overlooks 
 the rich and lovely district in which the ancient town of 
 Rheims is situated, and never did a sight more glorious meet 
 the eyes of youthful monarch than that which lay outstretched 
 before him. It was early in the month of July, the earth gay 
 in its greenest pomp of foliage, its richest flush of bloom ; the 
 heavens dazzlingly blue ; the air mild and balmy ; the wild 
 landscape diversified with its laughing vineyards, its white 
 hamlets, its shadowy forests ; the silvery line of the river 
 Vele flashing and sparkling in sunshine ; and the gray towers 
 of Rheims arising from a mass of tufted woodland in the cen 
 tre of the picture; and all this was his his heritage his 
 birthright wrested from his hand by the mailed gripe of the 
 
 * For the singular, and as we should now consider them, almost blas 
 phemous, antitheses, of the speech of Joan, the author is not answerable. 
 This strange medley of feudalism, superstition, and loyalty, being a true 
 and authentic document. 
 
NEAR RHEIMS. 211 
 
 invader redeemed, recaptured, but to be restored by the fair, 
 frail being, who sat beside him, her bright eyes flashing with 
 triumph, and her whole frame quivering with the well-nigh 
 unearthly rapture of the moment. 
 
 Before their feet the road fell rapidly into a deep ravine 
 with sandy banks, partially shadowed by stunted shrubs, and 
 patches of furze with its dark prickly masses beautifully con 
 trasted by its golden bloom ; beyond this gorge lay a thick 
 woodland, through which the highway might be seen wander 
 ing in irregular curves, with a license not often found in the 
 causeways of La belle France. On the summit of this hill, the 
 monarch and his immediate train had halted, while the ad 
 vanced guard, a brilliant corps of light-armed cavalry prickers, 
 as they were termed, with long, light lances for their only 
 weapon, and mounted cross-bowmen, filed slowly forward, 
 company after company, veiling their gay banners, and salu 
 ting with trailed weapons and bended heads, as they passed, 
 the presence. In the rear the long array came trooping on ; 
 for miles and miles the champaign country was overrun with 
 scouring parties, and light detachments, hurrying in concentric 
 lines toward the place of their destination ; while the cause 
 ways were so thronged as to be almost impassable, with solid 
 columns of men-at-arms, trains of artillery, and all the para 
 phernalia of an army on the march . 
 
 The light-armed horsemen, file after file, swept out of sight, 
 and still as they were lost in the recesses of the shadowy 
 woodland, fresh troops mounted the summit, and deployed 
 from column into line, until the whole ridge of the hill was 
 covered with a dense and threatening mass, in the dark out 
 lines of which it would have required no unnatural stretch of 
 fancy to discover the likeness of a thunder-cloud ; while the 
 dazzling rays of the sun flashed back from casque or corslet 
 might have passed for the electric fluid. 
 
212 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 Tidings had reached the army, at the halt of the preceding 
 night, that Rheims like Troyes was garrisoned with a Bur- 
 gundian force of full three thousand lances ; a power, which, 
 amounting to five times that number of men-at-arms, it would 
 have been an arduous task for Charles to encounter in the 
 open field ; and which, when fighting from the vantage ground 
 of wall and battlement, and under the guidance of warriors so 
 renowned as the counts of Saveuse and of Chatillon-sur- 
 Harne, he could not even hope to conquer. 
 
 It was for this, then, that the royal army halted, till their 
 prickers might return with tidings from the vicinage of Rheims, 
 lest, upon marching down from the strong eminences which it 
 now occupied, it should become entangled among the swamps 
 and thickets of the forest, and so be taken by the foe at disadvan 
 tage. Not long, however, were they compelled to tarry ; for 
 the troops had scarcely piled their arms, and the fires were 
 not yet kindled to prepare the mid-day meal, ere a sound of 
 music came faintly up the wind ; so faintly, that it could not be 
 discovered whether it were a point of war, or a mere peaceful 
 flourish that was uttered by the distant trumpets. A moment 
 ensued of thrilling interest of excitement almost fearful 
 then was heard the clang- of hoofs, and a pricker spurred 
 fiercely up the hill. " To arms," he cried, " to arms, the ene 
 my are in the field to arms !" Then came the quick, stern 
 orders of the leaders ; horses were unpicqueted, and riders 
 mounted ; the preparations for the feast made way for prepara 
 tions of a sterner nature. Another moment brought in another 
 rider a column of cavalry was already entering the forest, at 
 the least five thousand strong, but yet their Burgundian cross. 
 Gradually the din of the music approached, and the notes 
 might-be distinguished. Trumpet, and kettle-drum, and cym 
 bal, sent forth their mingled strains, but not in warlike har 
 mony. Anon the cavalcade drew nigh, and, like the music 
 
THE WELCOME. 213 
 
 which had preceded its arrival, it was peaceful. Heralds and 
 pursuivants rode in the front on snow-white horses, with trum 
 peters on foot, and grooms beside their bridle-reins ; then 
 came the burgesses of Rheims in their embroidered pourpoints 
 of dark taffeta, with golden chains about their necks, and .vel 
 vet caps above their honest features ; minstrels and jongleurs 
 followed, with here a cowled priest, and there a flaunting dam 
 sel of the lower class, crowding to see the show. Before the 
 steed of the chief echevin strode a burly-looking servitor in 
 the rich liveries of the city, carrying a gorgeous standard em 
 blazoned with the quarterings of Rheims, while on a velvet 
 cushion by his side, his fellow bore the massive keys, their 
 dark and rusty iron contrasting strangely with the crimson 
 velvet and the golden fringes of the cushion which supported 
 them. 
 
 " Tete Dieu, my Dunois," cried Charles, with an exulting 
 smile. " These are no spears of Burgundy, nor shall we need 
 to break one lance to win our entrance ? Lo ! the good 
 citizens come forth to greet us. All thanks to thee, bright 
 maiden." 
 
 "All thanks to Him who sent me all praises and all 
 glory !" replied the virgin. "Not my arm not the arm of 
 man, not all the might of warfare could else have forced a 
 passage hither ! Be humble and be grateful, else shall thy 
 fall be sudden and disastrous, as thy rising hath been unex 
 pected, and superb withal, and joyous !" 
 
 Yet as she spoke the words of calm humility, her mien be 
 lied her accents. Her eyes sparkled, her bosom heaved, her 
 bright complexion went and came again, and her lip paled, as 
 the blood coursed more fiercely than its wont through her 
 transparent veins. As the column of the citizens approached, 
 the pursuivants, the heralds, and the minstrels, opening their 
 ranks on either hand, and filing to the left and right of the 
 
214 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 royal presence, she flung abroad the folds of her consecrated 
 banner, and gave her fiery steed the spur, till he caracoled in 
 fierce impatience against the curb which checked him. 
 
 " All hail !" she cried in a voice that all might hear, so clear 
 it was and thrilling, though pitched in the low tones of feeling 
 " all hail, Charles, by the special providence of Heaven, that 
 shalt, ere the sun sinks, be king and lord of France !" 
 
 For an instant there was a pause, and then, " all hearts and 
 tongues uniting in that cry," the woodlands echoed for miles 
 around to the shout, louder than the shock of charging squad 
 rons : " Life life to Charles our true, our gentle king!" 
 
 Gayly did the procession then advance ; no more of doubt, 
 no more of hesitation as they threaded the leafy vistas of the 
 forest ! All was calm, and sunshiny, and bright, to the hopes 
 of the young monarch, as were the limpid waters, and the 
 laughing landscape, and the summer skies, that looked so 
 cheeringly upon his hour of triumph. 
 
 A few short hours brought them to the gates of Rheims, and 
 with the clang of instruments, and the deep diapason often thou 
 sand human voices, Charles and his youthful champion entered 
 that ancient city, the goal of so many labors, the reward of so 
 much perseverance. The streets were strewed with flowers; 
 the walls were hung with tapestries of Luxembourg and Arras ; 
 the balconies were crowded with the bright and beautiful ; the 
 doorways thronged with happy faces ; and the whole atmo 
 sphere alive with merriment and triumph. That very night the 
 marechals of Boussac and Rieu were sent to St. Remi bearing 
 the greetings of the virgin, Joan, to bring thence the holy 
 flask of oil oil, which, if ancient legends may be credited, 
 had been brought from heaven by a dove to Clovis, when the 
 bold Frank laid the first foundation of the Gallic monarchy. 
 
 The morning, so earnestly desired, had at length arrived ; 
 the court before the towers of the old cathedral was crowded 
 
THE CORONATION. 215 
 
 well-nigh to suffocation. The archers of the guard vainly 
 endeavored to repress the jovial tumult, backing their Spanish 
 chargers on the mob, or beating back the boldest with the 
 staves of their bows, unstrung for the hour and void of peril. 
 Peers of France in their proud ermined robes and caps of 
 maintenance ; knights in their rich habiliments of peace, or 
 yet more nobly dight in panoply of steel, pressed through the 
 crowd unheeded, jostled by the brawny shoulders of clowns or 
 burghers, and over-impatient to join the sacred pomp to think 
 of precedence or ceremony. . ; < 
 
 Within the holy building, its long aisles thronged with noble 
 forms, and the rays of the early sunshine streaming in a thou 
 sand gorgeous dyes upon the assembled multitudes through the 
 richly-traceried panes, stood Charles. Clad as an aspirant for 
 the honors of chivalry, in the pure and virgin white, he bent 
 the knee before the brave D Alen9on, received the acolade, 
 and rose a belted knight. On his right stood the proud bishop 
 of Senlis ; the same who had braved the wrath of Charles on 
 his first interview, but afterward had redeemed his error 
 nobly, with the mortal sword before the walls of Orleans, and 
 on the field of Patai. On his left, sheathed, as was her wont, 
 from head to heel in armor, Joan, the preserver. Amidst the 
 thunder of the distant ordnance, and the nearer clamor of 
 the trumpets ; amidst the shouts of pursuivant and herald it- 
 " Largesse ! largesse ! notre trez noble, et trez puissant roi !" 
 and the acclamations of the populace, the diadem of Clovis 
 was placed upon his sunny curls ! Barons and vassals, high 
 and powerful, swore on the crosses of their heavy swords, 
 against all foes ever to succor and maintain his cause, so help 
 them Heaven and their fair ladies ; and damsels waved their 
 kerchiefs, and their sendal veils, with beaming smiles of exul 
 tation from the carved galleries aloft. 
 
 Tears tears of gratitude and happiness gushed torrent- 
 
216 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 like from the eyes of the victorious maiden. She flung her 
 self before the knees of the young monarch, whom she alone 
 had seated on the throne of his high ancestors ; she clasped 
 his ankles with her mail-clad arms, and watering his very feet 
 with streams of heartfelt joy "My task," she cried, " my 
 task is ended ! my race is run ! my victory accomplished! 
 For this, and for this only have I lived, and for this am I con 
 tent to die ! For this do I thank thee, O Lord, that thou hast 
 suffered thy servant to perform her duties and thy bidding ! 
 and now that thy behest is done, bending before thine imperial 
 throne the knees of her heart, thy servant doth implore thy 
 grace for this thy well-beloved son, and that in peace thou 
 wilt permit her to depart, an humble peasant-maiden to the val 
 ley of her birth, and the home of her untroubled innocence !" 
 
 " Never," cried the monarch, touched beyond the power of 
 expression by this revelation of deep feeling " never, my 
 friend, my more than friend my hope and my deliverance ! 
 As thou hast won for me this throne, so teach me now to 
 grace it ! As thou hast set upon my head this kingly crown, 
 so guard it for me now ! Oh ! never speak of quitting me, 
 thou thou to whom I owe my kingdom and my crown, and, 
 more than all, my country and my country s freedom !" 
 
 " Maiden, it must not be," the grave Dunois burst, as he 
 spoke, into the greatest animation ; " it must not be ! The 
 victory is but half achieved. If thou shouldst leave us now 
 all will be lost. Stay, virtuous and holy one, stay and accom 
 plish thou what thou alone canst furnish ! Dunois approves, 
 yet deprecates thy resolution ! In the shades of Vaucouleurs 
 lies humble happiness, but honor calls thee to the field of 
 strenuous exertion ! Choose between happiness and honor, 
 thou !" 
 
 " Thou, too," she answered, " noble Dunois ; thou, too ? 
 Then to my fate I yield me ! If I shall buckle blade again, 
 
HER LAST PROPHECY. 217 
 
 France shall, indeed, be free ; but Joan shall never see that 
 freedom. Said I not long ago that Joan of Arc should, in a 
 few brief months, be Joan of Orleans, and thereafter Joan of 
 Rheims ? Lo ! she who said it then, saith now hear it, 
 knights, paladins, and princes hear the last prophecy of 
 Joan: France shall be free, but never shall these eyes be 
 hold its freedom ! Dunois hath called her to the choice 
 the choice twixt happiness and honor ! Lo ! it is made. 
 Honor through life ay, and to death itself, still bright, un 
 tarnished, everlasting honor !" 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE CAPTURE. 
 
 York. Damsel of France, I think I have you fast, 
 
 Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms, 
 And try if they can gain your liberty. 
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 DAYS, weeks, and months, elapsed. The king, now such in 
 truth, with his victorious army and triumphant leaders, swept 
 onward unresisted ; town after town opened its gates ; district 
 after district sent out its crowds to hail the royal liberator, 
 chanting the hymn of victory, the proud Te Deum. Twice, 
 since the coronation, had the rival armies met ; once at Melun, 
 and once again before the walls of Dammartin^ and twice, 
 had the wily Bedford declined the battle ; not, however, as the 
 friends of Charles, intoxicated with success, imagined in their 
 vanity, through doubt or fear ; but from deep craft, and dangerous 
 policy. Well had he studied human nature, in its lights as in 
 its shadows, in its day of exultation as in its moments of 
 
 10 
 
218 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 despair that ablest of the British chieftains. He saw that 
 the French were elated to the skies, buoyed up beyond the 
 present reach of danger or despondency, by a confidence in 
 their divinely-chartered leader ; and farther yet than this, by 
 a proud consciousness of their own strength and valor. In 
 such a state of things, in either host, it needed not the pene 
 tration of a Bedford to discover, that till some change should 
 come about, it would be worse than madness to try the field. 
 He waited therefore but he waited like the tiger, when he 
 meditates his spring. His knowledge of mankind assured him 
 that, ere long, success would lead to carelessness, incaution to 
 reverses, and reverses to the downfall of that high spirit, 
 which had, in truth, been the winner of all the victories of 
 
 Charles. 
 
 Bedford was not deceived. Ingratitude, the bane alike of 
 monarchs and republics " ingratitude more strong than 
 traitors arms" struck the first blow fate did the rest. On 
 every side the English were trenched in with new opponents, 
 or encumbered with false friends, irresolute allies. In Nor 
 mandy the constable of France was up and doing ; and so 
 celebrated were his talents, so rapid his manoeuvres, and so 
 formidable his increase of power, that the regent deemed it 
 wise to quit at once the walls of Paris, against which the 
 maiden and the king were even then advancing, that he might 
 make head, while there was yet time, against this fresh assail 
 ant. Scarce had he marched, when with Xaintrailles and 
 Dunois, and all his best and bravest, Charles hurried to seize, 
 as he expectej, by an easy and almost unresisted charge, his 
 country s capital. 
 
 At the first, too, it seemed as though his towering hopes 
 were again about to be rewarded with success. Beneath a 
 storm of shafts and bolts from bow and arbalast, with the holy 
 banner of the maiden, and the dark green oriflamme displayed, 
 
ATTACK ON PARIS. 219 
 
 the chivalry of France rushed on against the guarded barriers, 
 Joan leading, as was her wont, the van. Down went the 
 outer palisades, beneath the ponderous axes ; the defenders 
 had scarce time to breathe a prayer, before the living flood of 
 horse rushed over them. Down went the barricade, and on, 
 still on, they charged. The barbacan was won, despite the 
 shower of cloth-yard arrows, and the streams of boiling oil and 
 blazing pitch, that fell from embrasure, crenelle, and battle 
 ment. A single moat alone lay between them and Paris. 
 The inner walls, weakly defended, and devoid of ordnance, 
 were all that barred out the monarch from his heritage. 
 
 " What, ho ! our squires," shouted Joan, curbing her charger, 
 on the brink of the fosse ; " What, ho ! bring up our paves- 
 ses ladders to scale the rampart hooks to force down the 
 drawbridge ! Lo ! the knave bowmen muster on the walls 
 our cross-bows to the front ! St. Denys, and God aid !" 
 
 " St. Mary !" cried Dunois, who, erect in his stirrups, was 
 making desperate but fruitless efforts to sever the chains of the 
 drawbridge with his espaldron " St. Mary! we are lost, an 
 these false varlets tarry ! What, ho ! bring mantelets and 
 pavesses, or we shall perish, like mere beasts of game, be 
 neath this archery of England !" 
 
 As he spoke, shaft after shaft rattled against his Milan coat, 
 but bounded off innocuous and blunted. Not so his comrades ; 
 for the fatal aim of that brave yeomanry brought down full 
 many a gallant knight, full many a blooded charger ; yet ever 
 and anon the battle-cry rose fiercely from the rear "On! 
 on ! St. Denys, and God aid !" While pressing forward, to 
 partake the sack which they believed to be in actual progress, 
 the squadrons of reserve cut off alike the possibility of succor 
 and retreat !" 
 
 " Ha !" shouted Dunois, once again, as he snatched a cross 
 bow from the hands of a cowering Genoese, and launched its 
 
220 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 heavy quarrel against the archers. " Ha! good bow !" The 
 sturdy peasant fell headlong from the rampart; but what 
 availed the death of one. Again and again, the steady arm of 
 the bastard shot certain death among them, while, confident in 
 his impenetrable harness, he defied their slender missiles 
 but it was useless. A louder shout from the battlements, a 
 closer volley and with a faint cry, between a shriek of an 
 guish and a shout of triumph, the maiden reeled in her stirrups, 
 and fell heavily to the earth. " Back back!" was now the 
 word. " Save him who can ! Flight is our only chance !" 
 and they did fly in hopeless disarray trampling down, ay, 
 and smiting with the sword those of their countrymen, who 
 were stretched wounded beneath their horses feet, or who, 
 bolder than the rest, would have persuaded or compelled them 
 to return. Dunois alone escaped the base contagion ; he had 
 already sprung from his destrier to rescue the dismounted 
 maiden, when Gaucourt and La Hire seized him by either arm, 
 and dragged him into the press, from which no efforts of his 
 own availed to extricate him, till the last barricade was passed. 
 Then, then, at length, they paused ; aware, for the first time, 
 that they were unpursued ; that no foe had sallied ; no cause 
 prevented the otherwise inevitable capture of the metropolis, 
 save their own want of concert and unreasonable panic. 
 
 " False friends, and craven soldiers !" cried Dunois, in low 
 and choking tones ; " dearly, right dearly, shall ye rue this 
 foul desertion ! The Maid of Arc, the liberator of our country, 
 the crowner of our king, the prophet of our God, lies wounded, 
 if not already made a captive, before the gates of Paris ! Ho ! 
 then to the rescue. Rescue for the Maid of Arc ! A Dunois 
 to the rescue !" 
 
 But no kindred chords were stricken in the breasts of his 
 companions ; Xaintrailles was silent ; De La Hire bit his lips, 
 and played with the hilt of his two-handed sword ; Gaucourt 
 
ROYAL INGRATITUDE. 221 
 
 shrugged his strong shoulders, and muttered Vords inarticu 
 late, or lost within the hollow of his helmet ; but Charles him 
 self the deepest debtor to the maiden who had raised him 
 from ignominy and defeat to triumph and a crown Charles 
 himself answered coldly, " As thou wilt, fair cousin ; be it as 
 thou wilt, but methinks she is already past reach of rescue, 
 even if those knave archers have not secured their prisoner, 
 within the walls of Paris. An hour hath flown since that 
 same arrow pierced her !" 
 
 " And if yon English archers have secured her what are 
 
 yon English archers but men? and men whose backs we 
 
 have beheld more often than their visages, while Joan was 
 
 here to lead us? And if she be within the walls of Paris 
 
 what are those walls but stone and mortar, less strong, less 
 
 lofty, and less ably manned, than scores which Joan has 
 
 mounted ? And what are we, that we should see the champion 
 
 of our country perish, without one struggle to preserve her ? 
 
 My liege, my liege, this is cold counsel, not to say coward ! 
 
 If Charles owe nothing to the savior of his diadem, Dunois 
 
 at least will spare him the reproach of Christendom for base 
 
 ingratitude !" Thus the bold bastard spoke ; he unclasped the 
 
 fastenings of his casque, and, waving it aloft in his right hand, 
 
 he galloped back alone on his chivalrous and Christian errand. 
 
 Shame at length prevailed. First one, and then another 
 
 knight turned bridle, and spurred steed, to follow a dozen 
 
 left the monarch s presence a score a hundred but gallop 
 
 as they might, they could not overtake black Olivier ; they 
 
 reached the shattered barbacan Dunois had vanished beneath 
 
 its gloomy portal, flinging his casque before him into the lines 
 
 of the enemy. His followers might hear it clash and rattle on 
 
 the pavement ; but ere those sounds had ceased, they caught 
 
 the din of arms, and over all the shout of Dunois, " Orleans ! 
 
 Orleans to the rescue !" 
 
222 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 Well had if been for Joan, that when she fell, her foemen 
 were parted from her by full moat and locked portcullis. A 
 captain of the guard had recognised her person ; but in their 
 eagerness to prevent the ingress of the foe, they had prevented 
 their own power of sallying. The keys were in charge of the 
 governor; the governor was in the far Bastile a watch was 
 set upon the turrets with commands to shoot her to the death, 
 should she attempt to escape ; a messenger was despatched in 
 all haste to the citadel to seek the keys. Once, as she rallied 
 from the effects of her wound, the maiden raised her head, and 
 on the instant an arrow grazed her crest. With the speed of 
 light the truth flashed on her mind, and she lay passive, hoping, 
 yet hardly daring to expect, a rescue. An hour passed an 
 hour that seemed longer, to the faint and tortured girl, than a 
 whole day of battle. There was a bustle on the walls ; the 
 blocks of the drawbridge creaked and groaned ; the chains 
 clashed heavily it fell! The bolts of the heavy gate shot, 
 back, the leaves were violently driven open ; armed footsteps 
 clanked along the timbers of the bridge. An archer on the 
 ballium bent his yew bow, and drew the silken cord back to 
 his ear ; for he had seen a movement in the form, which had 
 lain motionless so long that he had deemed it lifeless. She 
 had drawn her limbs, which had lain at their full extent, be 
 neath her, as though in readiness for a spring ; she had 
 clutched her dagger, in desperate resolution to be slain, not 
 taken. The yeoman s aim was true ; the point of the arrow 
 ranged with an aperture in the damsel s corslet ; death had 
 been certain had he loosed the string. 
 
 " Nay, shoot not, Damian ; the witch is well nigh sped al 
 ready ; and our comrades close on her haunches. Lo, even 
 now they hold her." 
 
 The archer lowered his weapon at the warden s sign ; and 
 in truth relief did seem so hopeless, rescue so far beyond the 
 
THE RESCUE. 223 
 
 bounds of possibility, that to have shot might well have been 
 deemed an act of needless mercy. The foremost soldier had 
 already stretched out his hand to seize her, when she started 
 to her feet, and, as the man, thrown off his guard by the sud 
 denness of the movement, faltered, sheathed her poniard in his 
 throat. At the same point of time the empty helmet of Dunois 
 rolled clanging through the archway; and the bold bastard, 
 whose approach had been unheard amid the tumult of the sally, 
 dashed bareheaded on the scene of action. His axe was bran 
 dished round his head, then hurled with the directness and al 
 most with the force of a thunderbolt ; the captain of the guard 
 was dashed lifeless to the earth ; and ere they had recovered 
 from their surprise, another, and another, of the captors bit the 
 dust around him. " In ! in !" shouted a loud voice from the 
 walls; "in Englishmen! Room for. the archery!" But the 
 confusion was too great. Their momentary panic past, the 
 knights of France redeemed their character ; there was no 
 check, no faltering ; bravely as Dunois had charged, they fol 
 lowed him ; and ere the sallying party had sufficient time, by 
 bugle-note and banner-cry, to rally and recross the bridge, a 
 score of the pursuers had passed the barbacan, and filled the 
 esplanade. 
 
 Down thundered the portcullis, and uprose the bridge ; 
 leaving the wretches who had sallied forth in haughty tri 
 umph, to a miserable fate. And miserable was the melee, that 
 not a bowman drew his string, lest he should slay a comrade. 
 As soon as he had been relieved, Dunois had borne the damsel, 
 still faint and stunned, to the rear-guard. 
 
 " Ha ! is it thou, Gaucourt ?" he muttered. " Thou wert 
 but backward even now. Save her, however, save her. As 
 well thou as any other." 
 
 He spoke in scorn, and well the other knew it ; yet not for 
 that dared he to bandy words with the best chevalier of France. 
 
224 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 With a calm eye he saw her borne to a place of safety, and 
 then, with a slow step, turned again to join the conflict. But it 
 was well nigh over ; a few wounded and weary Britons on 
 foot, and unarmed, save their short swords and quarter-staves 
 frail weapons against mace and two-handed falchion stag 
 gered to and fro, blind with their wounds, yet battling it to the 
 last against unnumbered odds, while their own comrades stood 
 aloft, unable to protect or rescue them. 
 
 " Hold off your hands, fair sirs !" the bastard shouted, in a 
 voice of thunder ! " hold off your hands ! our victory is won 
 our prize is gained ! the maiden is in safety ! Draw off, then, 
 fairly front to the walls retire !" 
 
 It was sufficient ; rescue or no rescue, that frail remnant 
 yielded them to the kind mercies of the conqueror ; and with 
 a single and well-ordered movement the paladins drew off their 
 forces, the best armed and best mounted facing the ramparts 
 to the last, though the arrow-shots fell fast around them, till 
 their feebler comrades had filed from out the barbacan. Once 
 through the archway, the whole line halted in a serried line 
 of lances, and awaited the commands of him of Orleans. 
 
 " Xaintrailles," he cried, " lead on ! Gaucourt hath borne 
 the maiden hence ere while. Commend me to the king. Lead 
 on ! Adieu !" 
 
 With a heavy tramp the knights passed onward, but the 
 count de Xaintrailles paused. " And whither," he said ; 
 " whither, thou ?" 
 
 " My casque," replied Dunois. " I, too !" answered the 
 count ; " bareheaded thou amid the shafts of those rogue 
 archers, and that untended ? never, by the bones of my 
 father never !" 
 
 " Tarry, then, thou, and hold me, Olivier, till I go fetch it 
 thence," cried Dunois ; then, without waiting a reply, he flung 
 the rein to his companion, and holding his triangular buckler 
 
THE CHIVALROUS FOEMEN. 225 
 
 aloft, strode steadily forth into the open space, whereon no 
 shelter intervened to dazzle the eyes of the archers, or to pro 
 tect the object of their aim. 
 
 As first he crossed the threshold of the barbacan, a dozen 
 arrows rattled against his armor, while a hundred others 
 aimed at the portal whizzed through it harmlessly. Still he 
 advanced, unharmed as yet and fearless : again the bows 
 were bent, again shafts were notched and fitted to the string. 
 
 " Hold, for your lives, ye varlets ; harm him not," cried a 
 voice of authority. " Now, by my faith, it is Dunois ! My 
 noble friend, what wouldst thou ?" 
 
 " Ha ! Salisbury, good knight, and true," returned the 
 Frenchman. " I knew not thou wert here. Gramercy for 
 thy caution, else had it fared with me right hardly. There 
 lies my casque, beside the fosse ; I flung it there anon to win 
 it hence, as best I might, by strong heart and keen blade. 
 Come down, I prithee, Salisbury, that we may prove it here 
 which is the better knight ; thou hast the vantage on thine 
 head but hold thine archery aloof and I will stand the ven 
 ture !" 
 
 "Who looses a shaft, dies !" shouted the baron, as he per 
 ceived a hostile movement among his soldiery, at the bold 
 vaunt ; " and thou, Dunois, take up thy casque, and get thee 
 hence betimes, else will these knaves riddle thee, despite me. 
 Begone, fair sir, and trust me we shall meet, and that right 
 early !" 
 
 " Thanks for thy courtesy, and trust me, Salisbury ; times 
 shall go hard with Orleans if he requite it not !" 
 
 He donned his helmet, waved his hand to his renowned an 
 tagonist, and joined his comrade, as carelessly as though he 
 had but parted from him in the joyous chase, and returned to 
 his side bearing the sylvan trophies at his saddle-bow. 
 
 It was dark night when they reached the host, in triumph it 
 
 10* 
 
226 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 is true, for they had saved the savior of France ; but in the 
 host there was no triumph, no confidence, no hope. The first 
 blow had been stricken ; the wheel of fortune had turned once 
 round upon its downward revolution ; the victors had been van 
 quished. The maid herself, though her chirurgeons spoke 
 but lightly of the wound, was in a sad, despondent mood, far 
 different from her wonted spirit. 
 
 " Now," she said " now would I willingly go hence ; my 
 task is ended ; my race run !" 
 
 " Wherefore," inquired her preserver " wherefore this 
 dark presentiment? Is aught revealed to thee, from those 
 who sent thee on thy mission ? or hast thon warning of thy 
 death in anything ?" 
 
 " Not so !" she answered ; " I knew but this God sent me 
 hither ; sent me to raise the siege of Orleans ; to crown my 
 king at Rheims no more ! Than this I have no further mis 
 sion : no further duty ! Oh ! may it please the king to spare 
 his servant !" 
 
 From that day forth the star of Charles declined. No other 
 attempt was made on the metropolis ; no stricken field was 
 fought, no boroughs taken ; the ardor of the troops was frittered 
 away in trifling skirmishes, wherein the English gained as 
 much as the French lost, of confidence. Ere long the tables 
 were turned once again ; the chivalry of France retired to 
 their separate demesnes ; their vassals withdrew to their me- 
 tairies ; the armies were disbanded. A few scattered garrisons 
 were maintained in fortified towns and castles, while the troops 
 of Bedford kept the field, and again ventured to open their 
 trenches, and beleaguer their late victorious foernen. Com- 
 piegne, closely invested, was well nigh driven to surrender, by 
 the united force of England and of Burgundy ; with a selected 
 company Joan beat up their quarters one moonless and tem 
 pestuous night, spiked half their battering cannon, and, without 
 
A BELEAGUERED CITY. 227 
 
 the loss even of a single sergeant, made good her entrance to 
 the town. For a brief space, the spirits of the citizens surged 
 up against the pressure of calamity ; the valor of the maiden 
 relumed for awhile their falling fortunes, shining out itself 
 more brightly, as it drew nigher to the hour of its extinction. 
 Day after day some new annoyance of the enemy was devised ; 
 at one time a convoy was cut off; at another, a picquet was 
 utterly destroyed ; now a mine exploded beneath the trenches ; 
 and then, while the attention of the assailants was attracted to 
 one quarter, provisions, men, and munitions, were introduced 
 from another. The summer passed away, with its gay flowers 
 and bright hopes autumn wore onward, with its sere foliage, 
 its brilliant skies, and all the melancholy thoughts it can not 
 fail to conjure up in every feeling bosom winter drew nigh, 
 with its first hoar-frosts, and its nipping showers ; the trees 
 were leafless, the spirits of the besieged waxed faint and 
 drooping ; their garnered stores were wasted, their wells were 
 dried, their wine-butts had run low. Famine and despair had 
 traced their painful lines on every countenance ; the hopes of 
 all were at the lowest ebb. In this dark crisis the maiden 
 saw the need of instant energy. " We will cut our way 
 through them," she cried, " once again ! With our good 
 swords and gallant steeds, will we win us provender ; cour 
 age, St. Denys and God aid !" 
 
 The wind wailed mournfully as she set forth, before the 
 dawn of day, on this her last excursion ; the atmosphere was 
 raw and gusty ; a thin, drizzling rain had saturated every 
 plume and banner, till they drooped upon their helms, or clung 
 around their staves in dismal guise of sorrow ; the very horses 
 hung their heads, and neither pawed nor pranced at the call 
 of the war-trumpet. It was remembered, too, in after-days 
 that the consecrated sword of Joan, rusted perchance by the 
 dank air of morning, seemed loath to leave the scabbard ; and 
 
228 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 that her charger swerved as in terror, though there was naught 
 in sight, from the city-gates, and could be forced beyond the 
 threshold only by the utmost of the rider s strength and skill. 
 
 " Once more in the free air," she cried exultingly ; " once 
 more on a fair field, with France s foes before us ! Charge, 
 then, my friends ; charge cheerily ; charge all ! Better to 
 fall beneath the buckler bravely, than to perish piecemeal in 
 the guarded chamber ! The standard of our God is waving 
 o er us the soil of our birth is beneath our feet ! Victory is 
 in our hands vengeance and victory! Once more we cry, 
 " God aid ! St. Denys, and set on !" 
 
 And they did set on right bravely : straightway they 
 charged against the lines, passed them, and all was theirs. A 
 joyous gallop through the open fields ; a scattering of convoys ; 
 a. gathering of rich booty ; and with droves of oxen, wains 
 groaning beneath the weight of forage, they turned them home 
 ward at night-fall. A furious onslaught on the British out 
 posts, which lay betwixt the river and the town, led on by 
 Joan in person, was successful ; the troops of Burgundy, al 
 ready on the alert, rushed to the rescue, leaving their own 
 trenches vacant or feebly guarded. The strife was short, but 
 furious a shrill bugle-note from the further gates of the be 
 leaguered city gave note that the last wain had entered. On 
 the instant the maid drew off her skirmishers, and wheeling 
 her divided forces to the left and the right, rode hastily to 
 ward the gate, so to effect her entrance. 
 
 Thus far the night had favored them with friendly darkness ; 
 now, when their peril was the greatest, the moon burst out in 
 garish brilliancy, revealing every object for miles around, as 
 clearly as it would have showed beneath a mid-day sun. The 
 maiden s stratagem was marked, and, as she wheeled around 
 the walls, a heavy force of archery and men-at-arms, dis 
 mounted for the purpose, stole secretly along their trenches, 
 
HER CAPTURE. 229 
 
 to cut off her retreat. Such, however, was the rapidity of her 
 manoeuvres, that she had reached the barrier before them ; her 
 comrades were about her the bridge was lowered her tri 
 umph was achieved. Soldier after soldier filed inward ; yet 
 still she sat upon her docile steed, the last to enter, as she had 
 been the first to gallop forth. All had passed in but three, 
 when there arose a shout of, " Burgundy a Luxembourg for 
 Burgundy ;" and forth from the trenches, under cover of a 
 heavy volley, rushed the dismounted troopers. 
 
 " Stand to your arms, true friends !" cried the undaunted 
 maiden ; " courage, and all is well !" 
 
 All was in vain ; one squire turned his steed to join her, but 
 an arrow pierced his vizor, and he dropped from his saddle a 
 dead man. The hoof-tramps of the others, as they dashed 
 across the bridge, smote heavily on her heart she was de 
 serted ! Yet, there was yet time. She whirled her weapon 
 from its scabbard she smote down a wretch whose hand was 
 on her bridle-rein ; she dashed her spurs into the fleet Arab s 
 side ; one other bound had placed her on the drawbridge ; it 
 had begun to rise slowly ; the dark planks reared their barrier 
 against her. " Treason !" she called aloud, in notes of super 
 human shrillness. " Lower the bridge ! Ho! treason!" 
 
 As she spoke, an arrow quivered in her charger s flank ; 
 erect he bounded from the earth ten feet aloft ; another pierced 
 his brain, and he plunged headlong. Still, as he fell beneath 
 her, she kept her footing, and with a fearless mien faced her 
 assailants. Even yet one sally one charge of a determined 
 handful had preserved her, but the charge the sally came 
 not ; the bridge swung to its elevation, and was there secured. 
 
 "Yield, Joan, I take thee to surrender ; I, John de Ligny- 
 Luxembourg ;" and with the words a stately knight sprang for 
 ward to receive her weapon ; and with a vengeance did he 
 receive it. The burghers from the ramparts, whereon they 
 
230 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 hurried to and fro, incapable, from very terror, of exertion, be 
 held her as she met him. Her eyes, they said, flashed fire 
 through the bars of her closed vizor, and her stature showed 
 loftier than its wont. Down came the consecrated blade upon 
 the crest of Luxembourg the sparks, which sprang up from 
 the dinted casque, alone had proved the shrewdness of the 
 blow ; but the strong warrior reeled beneath the stroke, like a 
 weak infant. Had the sword done its duty, the stout John de 
 Ligny had never more stirred hand or foot ; but, like all else, 
 the sword was faithless. It shivered to the grasp, and she 
 stood weaponless. A dark cloud passed before the moon, and 
 the faint-hearted watchers beheld not the capture of the maid 
 en ; but the reiterated shouts of thousands, the din of trump 
 and nakir, the shot of cavaliers, and the deep roar of ordnance, 
 announced to the inhabitants of many a league that the cham 
 pion of her king and country had been betrayed by faithless 
 friends to unrelenting foemen. 
 
IN A DUNGEON. 231 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE DEATH OF LA PUCELLE. 
 
 Warwick. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid, 
 Spare for no fagots, let there be enough; 
 Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake, 
 That so her torture may be shortened. 
 
 SHAKSPERE. 
 
 THREE months had elapsed, since, in the flower of youth 
 and beauty, in the flush of conquest, and in the accomplish 
 ment of all her own of all her country s aspirations the 
 Maid of Arc had fallen, through the envious treason of the 
 count de Flavy he who had shut the gates and raised the 
 bridges of Compiegne against her into the hands of John de 
 Ligny- Luxembourg since he, false gentleman and recreant 
 knight, had sold the heroine of France sold her, despite the 
 prayers, despite the tears and the reproaches of his high-minded 
 lady sold her for base and sordid lucre to her unsparing foemen. 
 Three months had elapsed of wearisome confinement not in a 
 guarded chamber not with the blessed light of heaven stream 
 ing, albeit, through grates of iron into her prison-casements 
 not with the miserable semblance of freedom that might be fan 
 cied to exist in the permission to pace the narrow floor not 
 with the wonted dungeon-fare of the worst malefactor not with 
 the consolations of religion vouchsafed even to the dying mur 
 derer not even with the wretched boon of solitude! No; 
 in a dungeon many a foot beneath the surface of the frozen 
 earth, with naught of air but what descended through a deep- 
 cut funnel with naught of light but what was furnished by a 
 pale and winking lamp loaded with a weight of fetters that 
 
232 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 would have bowed the strongest man-at-arms to child-liko 
 helplessness bound with a massive chain about her waist, 
 linking her to the rocky floor fed on the bread of bitterness, 
 her thirst slaked with the waters of sorrow her feelings out 
 raged by the continual presence of a brutal soldier, violating 
 the privacies, alike by day and night, of her sad condition, the 
 noble girl had languished without a hope of rescue, without 
 even a dream of liberty or life taunted by her foes and per 
 secuted deserted by her friends and utterly forgotten. Yet, 
 though her frame was shrunken with disease, and worn with 
 famine, though her bright eyes were dimmed by premature 
 old age, her stature bent to half its former height, and her 
 whole appearance deprived of that high and lustrous beauty 
 that had of yore been so peculiarly her own ; her confidence 
 in Him, whom she believed, erroneously perhaps, but not 
 therefore the less fervently, to have sent her on that especial 
 mission which she had so gloriously accomplished her con 
 fidence in that being whose decrees are, of a truth, inscrutable 
 was all unshaken. If she had formerly displayed the cour 
 age to endure if she had proved herself the equal of men iu 
 the melee of active valor, she now showed herself to be endowed 
 in no secondary degree with the calm fortitude of her sex, the 
 uncomplaining, patient resignation to inevitable pain, or incon 
 solable affliction, which is so much harder to put on than the 
 bold front which rushes forth to meet the coming danger. 
 Day after day she had been led forth from her cold dungeon, 
 to undergo examination, to hear accusations the most incon 
 ceivably absurd, to confute arguments, the confutation of which 
 aided her cause in nothing ; for when did prejudice, or, yet 
 worse than prejudice fanatic bigotry hear the voice of 
 reason, and hear it to conviction. Night after night she had 
 been led back to the chilly atmosphere of that dank cell, hope 
 less of rescue or acquittal, harassed by persecution, feeble of 
 
HER TRIAL. 233 
 
 frame, and sick at heart, yet high and firm in her uncompro 
 mising spirit as when she first rode forth with consecrated blade 
 and banner to raise the siege of Orleans. From the very com 
 mencement of her protracted trial she had felt a sure fore 
 knowledge of its termination ! She had known that, in the 
 hearts of her judges, her doom was written down already ; 
 yet, with a calm confidence that would have well become a 
 Socrates, ay, or the apostle of a holier creed, she had striven 
 to prove her innocence to posterity, at least, if not to the pas 
 sing day to eternity, at least, if not to time ! When reviled, 
 she answered not when taunted, her replies were meek but 
 pertinent when harassed by the simultaneous questioning of 
 her hard-hearted judges, eager to confuse by clamor the weak 
 woman whom they could not confound by sophistry, she was 
 collected as the sagest jurist, undisturbed as though she were 
 pleading another s cause, and not her own. The base Cau- 
 chon, the bishop of Beauvais, the bigoted, bribed, fanatic, to 
 whom had been committed the conduct of her judicial murder, 
 strove hard, but strove in vain, to wring from her pale lips 
 some evidence of unholy dealings, for which he might con 
 demn her to the stake some word of petulance which he 
 might construe into treason. 
 
 " Swear," he cried, in haughty and imperious tones, from his 
 crimson chair of state to the fair, frail girl, who, clad in sack 
 cloth, with bare feet and dishevelled hair, stood at his footstool, 
 upheld by the supporting might of conscious innocence 
 " swear to speak truth, question thee as we may !" 
 
 " I may not swear, most holy bishop," she replied, and her 
 eye flashed for a moment, and her lip curled as she spoke, so 
 that men deemed it irony " I may not swear, most righteous 
 judge, since you may question me of that, which to reveal be 
 foul perjury, so should I, if I swore, stand perjured in the 
 same by speech or silence !" 
 
234 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 " Swear, Joan of Domremi most falsely styled of Orleans 
 and of Arc swear to thy judges that thou wilt seek no res 
 cueattempt no escape ! 
 
 "Be not your fetters strong enough ?" she asked in answer ; 
 and she half raised her feeble arm to show the weight of rusty 
 steel that had already well-nigh crippled it. " Be not your fetters 
 strong enough your rock-hewn vaults, where never comes 
 the first-created gift of natural light your iron cages, and 
 your steel-clad warders be they not guards enough, that ye 
 would bind me yet more straitly ? This will I not swear, O 
 thou most merciful, so shall you not condemn me of faith 
 broken." 
 
 "Then thou dost look to rescue dost hope for liberty 
 wouldst evade, hadst thou the power, the bonds of Holy 
 Church ?" 
 
 " To whom should I look for rescue, save to Him who has 
 abandoned his frail servant for her own transgression." 
 
 " Ha ! she confesses !" 
 
 " Mark well the words, sir scribe !" 
 
 " Judgment, lord president ; a judgment !" 
 
 " No need for further question !" 
 
 " She has avowed it !" 
 
 Such were the disjointed clamors that burst at once in fiend 
 ish exultation from the lips of that holy-seeming conclave ; but 
 ere the wily bishop could express his sentiments, the maiden 
 again took up the word. 
 
 " I have confessed, great sirs, I have confessed transgres 
 sion. And make not ye the same at prime, at matin, and at 
 vesper, the same avowal ? Riddle me, then, the difference, 
 ye holy men, between the daily penitence ye proffer, for the 
 daily sins which even ye confess, and this the free confession 
 of a prisoner a helpless, friendless, persecuted prisoner! 
 Tell me, lord bishop, what am I that I should suffer judgment 
 
HER SPEECH. 235 
 
 to the uttermost, for the same avowal that thou makest daily, 
 if thou dost obey the bidding of Him whose cross thou hast 
 uplifted ! But ye did ask me if I hope for liberty ; if I would 
 exchange the prison-house, the hall of condemnation, and the 
 bread of tears, for the free air, the blessed sunshine, and the 
 humblest peasant s fare ! Go, ask the wild herds of the forest 
 will they prefer the yoke and the goad, the halter and the stall, 
 to the green-woods and liberal pastures in which their Maker 
 set them ! Go, ask the eagle will .he endure the jesses and 
 the hood of the trained goss-hawk, will he choose the perch 
 and mew before the boundless azure ; will he list to the whis 
 tle, or regard the lure of the falconer when the thunder is rol 
 ling beneath him, when the lightning, which he alone can gaze 
 upon undazzled, is flashing round the aerie his Creator made 
 him to inhabit. If these shall answer yea, then will I do your 
 bidding, and swear to keep my prison, though the chains 
 should be stricken from my limbs, and the door of deliverance 
 opened ; though the fagot were kindled to consume me on the 
 one hand, and the throne of your monarch were tendered on 
 the other ! Then will I swear, sir priest, and not till then !" 
 
 Such was the tone, and such the tenor of all her speeches ; 
 ever submissive to the forms, to the ordinances, and to the 
 spirit of religion ; ever professing her faith in Holy Writ ; her 
 whole and sole reliance on the Virgin and her blessed Son ; 
 ever denying and disproving the charge of witchery or demon- 
 worship ; offering to confess under the sacramental seal ; to 
 confess to her very judges, she yet suffered them to know at 
 all times, to perceive by every glance of her eye, to hear in 
 every word of her mouth, that it was the religion they pro 
 fessed, and not the men who professed it, to which her defer 
 ence was paid, to which her veneration was due. 
 
 Still, though they labored to the utmost to force her into 
 such confession as might be a pretext for her condemnation, 
 
236 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 the court could -by no means so far confuse her understanding, 
 or so corrupt the judges, as to effect its nefarious purpose. 
 With a clear understanding of her own cause, she refused at. 
 once, and boldly, to answer those questions on nice points of 
 doctrine which she perceived to have no bearing on her case. 
 On every other matter, she spoke openly and with the confi 
 dence of innocence, maintaining to the last, however, that 
 " spirits, were they good or evil, had appeared to her ;" but 
 denying that she had ever by sign or periapt, by spell or 
 charm, invoked the aid of supernatural powers, otherwise than 
 by the prayers of the church offered in Christian purity of 
 purpose to the most holy Virgin and her everlasting Son It 
 was at length proposed that the question should be enforced 
 by the means of torture ! But by Cauchon himself the prop 
 osition was overruled not in mercy, however not in char 
 ity toward a weak and suffering woman, but in the deepest 
 refinement of cruelty. Confident, as he then was, that she 
 would be condemned to the fierce ordeal of the fagot and the 
 stake, he spared her the rack, lest, by exhausting her powers 
 of endurance, it might diminish the duration of her mortal 
 agonies. Bitterly, however, was that corrupt judge and false 
 shepherd disappointed when the decisive verdict was pro 
 nounced "Perpetual chains, the bread of sorrow, and the 
 waters of misery !" The courts ecclesiastic had no weapon 
 to affect her life, and for the present the secular arm had dis 
 missed her beyond the reach of its tyrannic violence. The 
 sentence was heard by the meek prisoner in the silence of 
 despair. She was remanded to her living tomb. She passed 
 through the gloomy archway ; she deemed that all was over ; 
 that she should perish there there, in that dark abyss, un- 
 cheered by the fresh air, or the fair daylight, unpitied by her 
 relentless foemen, unsuccored by her faithless friends ; and 
 she felt that death any death, so it were but speedy had 
 
HER SENTENCE. 237 
 
 been preferable to the endurance of that protracted torture 
 which life had now become to her, who lately fought and 
 feasted at the right hand of princes. 
 
 Not all the sufferings, however, of the wretched girl not 
 all the mental agonies and corporeal pains, that she must bear 
 iff silence, could satisfy the fears of England, or the policy of 
 England s regent. It was not in revenge, much less in hatred, 
 that the wise Bedford urged it on the court that they should 
 destroy, not her body only, but her fame. He well knew it 
 was enthusiasm only that had thus far supported her and lib 
 erated France. He deemed not, for a moment, that she was 
 either heavenly messenger, or mortal champion ; but he felt 
 that France believed in joy, England in trembling ! He felt 
 that, dead or living, so she died a martyr, Joan would be 
 equally victorious. Her death, if attributed to vengeance, 
 would but stir up the kindling blood of Gaul to hotter anger, 
 would but beat down the doggedness of Saxon valor with re 
 morse and superstitious terror ! 
 
 " 111 hast thou earned thy see," he cried, at their first inter 
 view, " false bishop ! As well she were a horse, and in the 
 field, as living thus a famous prisoner! She must die! 
 die, sir priest, not as a criminal, but as a witch and heretic ! 
 Her name must be a scoff and a reproach to France ; her 
 death an honor to her slayers ; a sacrifice acceptable to Mother 
 Church, and laudable throughout all Christentie ! See it be 
 done, sir ! Nay, interrupt me not, nor parley, and thou may- 
 est not accomplish it ; others more able, or perchance more 
 willing, may be found, and that right speedily ; the revenues 
 of Beauvais s bishopric might serve a prince s turn ! See that 
 thou lose them not !" And he swept proudly from the cham 
 ber, leaving the astounded churchman to plot new schemes, 
 to weave more subtle meshes for the life of the innocent. Nor 
 did it occupy that crafty mind long time, nor did it need deep 
 
238 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 counsel ! The sentence of the church decreed that she should 
 never more don arms, or masculine attire ! The bishop s eye 
 flashed as it lighted on that article. " Ha !" he muttered. 
 " Here, then, we have her on the hip ! Anselm, what, ho ! 
 Let them bid Gaspard hither, the warden of the sorceress, and 
 let us be alone !" 
 
 He came, and with closed doors they sat in conclave ; the 
 highest officer, save one, of holy church ; the lowest and most 
 truculent official of state policy ! Ear heard not, nor eye saw, 
 the secrets of that meeting ; but on the morrow, when the first 
 glimpse of sickly daylight fell through the tunnelled window 
 of her dungeon, the maiden s female garb was gone, and by 
 the pallet bed lay morion and corslet, cuishes, and greaves, 
 and sword her own bright azure panoply! At the first mo 
 ment, ancient recollection filled her whole soul with gladness ! 
 Joy, triumph, exultation, throbbed in her burning veins ; and 
 the tears that rained down full and frequent, tarnishing the 
 polished surface, were tears of gratitude and momentary bliss. 
 Then came the cold reaction, the soul-sickening terror, the 
 prophetic sense of danger, the certainty of treachery. She 
 donned them not, she rose not from her wretched couch, 
 though her limbs were cramped, and her very bones were sore 
 with lying on the hard and knotted pallet. Noon came, and 
 her guards entered ; but it was in vain that she besought 
 them, as they would not slaughter a poor maiden, slaughter 
 her, soul and body, to render back the only vestments she 
 might wear in safety. 
 
 " Tis but another miracle, fair Joan ;" sneered the grim 
 warden. " St. Katharine, of Ferbois, hath returned the sword 
 she gave thee erst, for victory. Tete Dieu, tis well she left 
 thee not the destrier, to boot of spurs, and espaldron, else 
 wouldst thou have won through wall of stone and grate of iron! 
 Don them, then, holy maiden ; don the saint s gift, and fear 
 not ; she will preserve thee !" 
 
THE SNARE. 239 
 
 And, with a hoarse and chuckling laugh, the churl laid 
 down the scanty meal his cruelty vouchsafed her, and de 
 parted. 
 
 Thus three days passed away ; her prayers for fitting rai 
 ment were unheeded ; or, if heeded, scoffed at. Meantime 
 tne chill air of the dungeon paralyzed her as she lay, with 
 scanty covering, cramped limbs, and curdling blood, on the 
 straw mattress that alone was interposed between her delicate 
 frame and the damp, rock-hewn pavement. On the third day 
 she rose ; she donned the fatal armor, all save the helm and 
 falchion, she might not otherwise enjoy the wretched liberty 
 of moving to and fro across the dungeon floor. Scarce had 
 she fastened the last rivet when the door flew open. A dozen 
 men-at-arms rushed in, and dragged her to the chamber of the 
 council. The board was spread with all the glittering mock 
 ery of judgment the brass-bound volumes of the law, the 
 crosier of the church, the mace of state, the two-edged blade 
 of justice, and the pointless sword of mercy. The judges 
 were in session, waiting the moment when necessity should 
 force her to don the fatal armor. From without the clang of 
 axe and hammer might be heard framing the pile for execu 
 tion, prepared already ere the sentence was pronounced on 
 that doomed victim, condemned before her trial. 
 
 " Lo ! there, my lords !" cried Cauchon, as she entered, 
 dragged like a lamb to the slaughter. " Lo ! there, my lords ! 
 What need of further trial ? Even now she bears the inter 
 dicted arms, obtained as they must have been by sorcery ! 
 Sentence, my lords ; a judgment !" 
 
 And with one consent they cried aloud, corrupt and venal 
 Frenchmen, " Judgment, a sentence !" 
 
 Then rose again the bishop, and the lust of gain twinkled 
 in his deep gray eye, and his lip curled with an ill-dissembled 
 smile, as he pronounced the final judgment of the church. 
 
240 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 "Joan of Domremi sorceress, apostate, heretic! Liar, 
 idolater, blasphemer of thy God ! The Church hath cast thee 
 from her bosom, excommunicated and accurst ! Thou art de 
 livered to the arm of secular justice. And may the temporal 
 flames which shall, this hour, consume thy mortal body, pre 
 serve thy soul from fires everlasting ! Her doom is said ; 
 hence with her, to the fagot !" 
 
 Steadfastly she gazed on the face of the speaker, and her 
 eye closed not, nor did her lips pale as she heard that doom, 
 the most appalling, that flesh can not endure. 
 
 " Ye have conquered," she said slowly, but firmly ; " ye 
 have prevailed, and I shall perish. But think not that ye 
 harm me ; for ye but send me to my glory ! And believe not, 
 vain that ye are, and senseless, believe not that, in destroying 
 me, ye can subdue my country. The fires that shall shrivel 
 up this weak and worthless carcase, shall but illume a blaze 
 of vengeance in every Frenchman s heart that will never 
 waste, nor wink, nor weary, till France again be free ! This 
 death of mine shall cost thousands hundreds of thousands of 
 the best lives of Britain ! Living, have I conquered your best 
 warriors heretofore ! Dead, will I vanquish them hereafter ! 
 Dead, will I drive ye out of Paris, Normandy, Guyenne. 
 Dead, will I save my king, and liberate my country ! Lead 
 on, assassins lead me to the pile ! the flesh is weak and 
 fearful, yet it trembles not, nor falters ; so does the spirit pine 
 for liberty and bliss !" 
 
 Who shall describe the scene that followed ; or, if described, 
 who would peruse a record so disgraceful to England, to 
 France, to human nature ? England, from coward policy, con 
 demned to ignominious anguish a captive foe ! France, baser 
 and more cruel yet, abandoned without one effort, one offer of 
 ransom, one stroke for rescue, a savior and a friend ! and hu 
 man nature witnessed the fell deed, pitying, perhaps, in 
 
HER DEATH. 241 
 
 silence, but condemning not, much less opposing the decree of 
 murder, sanctioned as it was, and sanctified by the assent of 
 holy church. 
 
 It is enough ! she perished perished as she had lived, un 
 dauntedly and nobly. Her fame, which they would have de 
 stroyed, lives when the very titles of her judges are forgotten. 
 The place of her torture is yet branded with her name. Her 
 dying prophecy has been fulfilled. A century had not elapsed 
 ere Paris, Normandy, Guyenne, were free from England s 
 yoke ; and every battle-field of France hath reeked, from that 
 day downward to red Waterloo, with blood of England, poured 
 forth like water on the valleys of her hereditary foe. 
 
 The maiden perished, and the terror-stricken soldiery who 
 gazed on her unmurmuring agonies beheld, or fancied they be 
 held, a saintly light, paler but brighter than the lurid glare of 
 the fagots, circling her dark locks and lovely features ; they 
 imagined that her spirit visible to mortal eyes, soared upward, 
 dove-like, on white pinions, into the viewless heavens ; and 
 they shuddered, when they found, amid the cinders of the pile, 
 that heart which had defied the bravest, unscathed by fire, and 
 ominous to them of fearful retribution. 
 
 11 
 
242 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ELEGY. 
 
 This admirable heroine, to whom the more generous superstition of the ancients 
 would have erected altars, was, oil the pretence of heresy and magic, delivered over 
 alivo to the flames, and expiated by that dreadful punishment, for the signal services 
 which she had rendered to her prince and to her native country. 1 HUME, chap. xx. 
 
 THE moon had set behind the tufted hill, 
 The silent stars though waning glimmered still, 
 The drowsy woods were steeped in voiceless rest, 
 Dead stillness brooded o er the water s breast, 
 The cloudless firmament was spread on high 
 Dark, but transparent, like the liquid eye 
 Of Andalusian maid, in orange grove, 
 Dissolved in rapture at the tale of love. 
 Nor voice of man, nor cry of passing bird, 
 Nor ban-dog s bay from cot or keep, was heard; 
 The wolves were hushed in tangled coverts deep, 
 The very owls had wailed themselves to sleep: 
 But fresher yet the breeze came murmuring by, 
 And colder breathed the air, as morn drew nigh. 
 The paly streaks, that told of coming day, 
 Dappled the horizon s verge with feeble ray; 
 Yet one, who paused on yonder hillock s brow, 
 Above the blooming plain which smiled below, 
 Might linger there, nor dream a city s pride 
 Was slumbering by that sluggish river s side; 
 Though close beneath, in darkest garb arrayed, 
 Blent with the forest s gloom, the mountain s shade, 
 A gorgeous town lay stretched; with streets sublime, 
 Turret, and dome, and spires of olden time, 
 Teeming with life and wealth war s stern array, 
 The cares of commerce, and the church s sway! 
 No crash of wheels, nor hum of crowds was there, 
 Nor neigh of warlike steeds, nor torch s glare ; 
 
ELEGY. 243 
 
 All whelmed alike in night s oblivious pall! 
 The drowsy watchers nodded on the wall 
 The haughty conqueror in his trophied bed 
 The slave in chains the serf in lowly shed. 
 
 But one was there whose eyes nor night could close, 
 !N"or* opiate draughts could lull to calm repose. 
 In bloom of beauty, in youth s earliest flower, 
 Condemned to brave the inevitable hour, 
 To quit the verdant earth, the genial sun, 
 Ere half her course of womanhood was run, 
 Unbent by years without one silver hair 
 In her bright tresses; ignorant of care, 
 Of pain, or sorrow; while the world was new, 
 "While life was beautiful, and friends seemed true, 
 Doomed to the worst extremity of pain, 
 Which flesh can writhe beneath, and not sustain 
 To die in fire, unhouselled and unshriven, 
 Scorned by her murderers, and shut out from heaven 
 The maid of Orleans. She whose sacred brand 
 Had wrought deliverance to her native land 
 Had slaked the bowstring in the archer s blood, 
 And tamed the Island Leopard s* furious mood, 
 She who had crowned a monarch who had raised 
 A nation from the dust whose name was praised 
 In court and cottage, from the snowy chain 
 Of Alpine Jura, to the western main, 
 Her country s guardian fettered and alone 
 In patient helplessness she sat: no groan 
 Passed from her ashy lips; her mind s control 
 O erpowered the whirlwind passion of her soul: 
 Calm had she bent the knee, and humbly prayed 
 From HIM, who gives to all who seek, His aid. 
 Humbly she knelt, and self-absolved she rose ; 
 Tried in success, and purified by woes, 
 
 * The original bearing on the royal shield and standard of England were not three 
 lions, but three leopards or libbords, as they are called in the old chronicles, and were 
 first assumed by Edward I. ; but were changed, in process of time, for the nobler brute 
 which now contends with the unicorn. 
 
244 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 She felt her glowing spirit mount the skies 
 To meet the witness of "those perfect eyes" 
 Which endless time nor boundless space can blind, 
 Secure in her Redeemer, and resigned 
 To bear all torments, in that narrow road 
 "Which leads, through death, to glory s pure abode. 
 
 She turned to take a long, a last farewell 
 Of the dear country she had served so well 
 Of the dark skies and each peculiar star, 
 "Whose melancholy glance she had loved afar 
 In her own vale, while France as yet was freel 
 She saw the Seine rush proudly to the sea 
 She saw the foliage in the breezes wave 
 The flowery turf, that might not yield a grave 
 To its heroic daughter: but her mind 
 Marked not the hurrying flood, nor heard the wind. 
 Far! far away, her fancy s eye did roam 
 To the known landscape, and the cottage home; 
 The willows bending o er the argent rill; 
 The rustic shrine, and the familiar hill; 
 The lawns, where oft her pastured flocks would stray; 
 The village-green, where still on festive day 
 She led with artless grace the rural dance, 
 All hearts subduing with untutored glance; 
 The cheerful hearth; the calm though humble bed; 
 The dreamless sleep which hovered round her head; 
 The days of innocence; the nights of peace. 
 Alas! that hours like these should ever cease! 
 
 Forth rushed the burning tears! not one by one, 
 But bursting out as mountain streamlets run 
 Her mother s face benign, her father s smile, 
 Palpably beaming on her heart the while, 
 Till, in that gush of soul, she well might deem 
 The dead restored by no uncertain dream. 
 Yet soon that passion passed a sudden start 
 Called back the crimson current from her heart, 
 And flushed her cheek with indignation s tide. 
 
ELEGY. 245 
 
 "Shall I the maid of Arc shall I," she cried, 
 ""Weep like a village damsel for some toy 
 Of childish love I, who have known the joy 
 Of triumph and high glory who am styled 
 My country s savior France s noblest child?" 
 
 She ceased! for, as she spake, with plaintive swell 
 Answering her words of pride, a ponderous bell 
 Rang out its deadly summons! Well she knew 
 The sound of terror; and the transient hue 
 Which shamed but now the tints of breaking morn, 
 Had vanished from her brow; yet still upborne 
 By calm submission, and the holy zeal, 
 Which erst had nerved her arm to point the steel, 
 She stood unblenching. To the place of shame 
 Branded* for ever with the virgin s name 
 They led her forth, in the resistless might 
 Of maiden virtue girt, as to the fight, 
 In panoply of mail her long dark hair 
 Unbraided, and her features firm as fair. 
 Stern Bedford gazed upon her dauntless mien 
 With half-repentant wonder! He had seen, 
 Unmoved and fierce, all bursts of female fear, 
 Had scorned the sigh, and revelled in the tear; 
 But the wild courage of that heavenly face 
 Half-moved his iron heart to deeds of grace. 
 The free-born archers of the ocean isle 
 Reluctant marched along; no vengeful smile 
 Mantling their rugged brows that band had rued 
 The victim s valor in their dearest blood, 
 Yet not for that would they consign to flame 
 A glorious spirit, and a woman s frame! 
 
 The goal was gained and ye do still forbear 
 To ^enk. ve Thunders! Where, Tempests, where 
 Are your tornadoes, that ye do not burst 
 Whelming with heavenly streams the flame accurst? 
 
 The Place de la Pucelle, at Rouen, where this infamous tragedy was enacted. 
 
246 THE FORTUNES OF THE MAID OF ARC. 
 
 They bound her to the stake, and tore away 
 
 The arms she bore in many a glorious day: 
 
 Yet still she trembled not! They touched the pyre 
 
 And the red torrent of devouring fire 
 
 Broad as a chieftain s banner streamed on high, 
 
 E en to the abhorrent skies! Yet not a cry 
 
 From out the volumed conflagration broke; 
 
 Nor sound was heard, save when the eddying smoke 
 
 Roared from its crackling canopy! A sob 
 
 Heaved the assembled concourse a wild throb 
 
 Of anguish and remorse! A secret dread! 
 
 Sank on the bravest heart, and stunned the firmest head 
 
 Fools? did they deem that flames could check thy course, 
 IMMORTAL FREEDOM or that human force 
 Could cope with the ETERNAL? THAT pure blood 
 Tainted each gale, and crimsoned every flood, 
 Through Gaul s wide confines, till her sons arose 
 An overwhelming landstorm* on their foes,- 
 And piled, with hands unbound, a deathless shrine, 
 And kindled on their hearths a spark divine, 
 Unquenched for ages, whose immortal ray 
 Still brightens more and more to perfect day. 
 
 * We have here ventured to anglicise the German word landsturm, the literal meaning 
 of which we have given above ; the application of the word is, " the rising in mass of 
 the whole population against a foreign invader," and the image appeared to us so highly 
 poetical, that, considering the ancient affinities of the German and English languages, we 
 had no hesitation in appropriating the word. 
 

 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH ; 
 
 <Dr, fyt Steam nf It, 3krttjnlnmm 
 
 A DARK SCENE IN PARIS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 LET the great Gods, 
 
 That keep this dreadful pudder o er our heads, 
 Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, 
 That hast within thee undivulged crimes, 
 Unwhipped of justice ! Hide thee, thou bloody hand ; 
 Thou perjured, and thoii simular of virtue, 
 That art incestuous! Caitiff, to pieces shake, 
 That under covert and convenient seeming 
 Has practised on man s life! Close pent-up guilts, 
 Rive your concealing continents, and cry 
 These dreadful summoners grace! I am a man 
 More sinned against than sinning. 
 
 KING LEAR, Act III., Scene 2. 
 
 THE shadows of evening had settled down upon the moor 
 and the morass, the tangled brakes and haunted ravines of Et- 
 trick, with more than the wonted gloom of a December s night ; 
 the distant moanings of the heavy gale foretold the storm that 
 was already brewing in the west, arid a few broad flakes of 
 
248 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 snow were felt, rather than seen, flitting through the gloomy 
 atmosphere. There needed no extraordinary sagacity to fore 
 see the sure approach of one of those tremendous flurries, as 
 they are termed, of hurricane and hail, which, bewildering to 
 the stranger in the full light of day, become perilous and ap 
 palling even to the hardy natives, when encountered amid the 
 hills in the hours of solitude and darkness. 
 
 But it would seem that neither tempest nor obscurity had 
 power to check the solitary rider, who journeyed over hill and 
 dale with such unfaltering resolution, although at times it re 
 quired all the spirit and address of an accomplished cavalier to 
 force his jaded horse against the gusts which* now raved across 
 the unsheltered moorland with almost irresistible violence. 
 The traveller was a tall and powerful man, whose firm seat and 
 martial bearing denoted the practised warrior, even more than 
 the arms, without which, in those days of wrong and rapine, 
 no one could hope to travel in security through districts of a 
 far less doubtful character than the marches of the Scottish 
 border. He wore an open headpiece, or bacinet of steel, 
 which, although its polish had been dimmed by the rust of 
 many a wintry day, yet glittered through the haze ; a coat of 
 strong buff leather, once richly laced and fringed, though now 
 defaced and soiled, from many a hard-fought field a heavy 
 gorget and broad plates upon the shoulders, with huge jack 
 boots extending to the middle of the thigh, completed his de 
 fensive arms. His weapons, however, partook strangely of 
 the equipments of a modern trooper, blended with that of the 
 paladins of chivalry ; for in holsters, at his saddle-bow, were 
 suspended a pair of petronels, as they then were called of a 
 construction infinitely more cumbrous, and scarce less bulky, 
 than the carabine of Napoleon s cuirassiers while one of 
 those tremendous espaldrons, or two-handed swords, which had 
 not as yet become entirely obsolete its huge crossed hilt 
 
THE SOLITARY HORSEMAN. 249 
 
 rising far above the shoulder of the wearer jarred against 
 spur and stirrup with its ponderous scabbard. 
 
 The noble horse which bore him, carefully as it had been 
 selected for extraordinary points of blood and bone, was now 
 so utterly overdone with toil, that he reeled and tottered before 
 the sweeping blast, as though each freshening of the gale must 
 bear him to the earth. It was not, however, a moment in 
 which the rider could afford to spare his faithful servant ; for 
 not only would it have been inevitable destruction to both man 
 and beast, to have passed the night upon those dreary wolds, 
 but the place and the hour had workers of evil more fearful 
 than the pelting shower, in the fierce mosstroopers of that dark 
 and dangerous district ; the spur, therefore, and the curb, were 
 the only answers to his frequent stumbles, that the exigencies 
 of the situation would allow. A long and ragged hill, chan 
 nelled by many a petty torrent, with here and there a stunted 
 bush, or bare crag, looming against the gray horizon, stretched 
 its wearisome length before him ; but so bitterly did the ar 
 rowy sleet drive into his face, and so deeply was the snow al 
 ready drifted in every hollow pass and sheltered gully, that it 
 seemed impossible for any human eye to discover the meanders 
 of that rarely-travelled path. No hesitation, however, was to 
 be discovered in the dauntless eagerness with which he still 
 pressed onward, as though every inch of the snow-clad wilder 
 ness were as familiar to his ken as the hall of his fathers. An 
 hour of toil and peril had elapsed before the summit was gained, 
 and the prospect, though still wild, became, at every step, less 
 dreary and monotonous. A thick growth of broom and brack 
 ens, intermingled with the silver birch, and the still verdant 
 holly, clothed the gradual descent, while, at no wide intervals, 
 some gigantic beech or gnarled and twisted oak remained to 
 tell where once had flourished the mighty Caledonian forest. 
 In the budding time of spring there is no fairer region through- 
 
 11* 
 
250 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 out the varied scenery of Scotland, than the far-famed banks 
 of Esk ; nor when autumn has cast her rich, though melan 
 choly tints upon the woodland, and the purple bloom of the 
 heather has succeeded to the greenness of the young herbage, 
 is the beauty of the declining, less attractive than that of the 
 mellowing, year ; and even now, although the cold gale sighed 
 and howled among the creaking branches, there was something 
 less mournful in its tones, than when they swept, like the cry 
 of spirits, unmingled with any sound of earth across the naked 
 moor. Ere long the signs of man were apparent, first in soli 
 tary pastures girded by dry stone dikes, and framed, as it 
 were, in a dark setting of coppice then in continuous crofts, 
 with their lines of sheltering sycamores, and here and there 
 the rude peel-house of some feudal proprietor overlooking its 
 rural dependencies from battlement and bartizan. The track 
 was now more clearly marked, following the windings of a 
 tributary to the foaming Esk ; the storm, too, had, in some de 
 gree, abated, and the moon shone forth at intervals, from be 
 hind the scudding wrack. 
 
 The rider, whose faculties had hitherto been occupied en 
 tirely in the management of his horse, now looked abroad with 
 an air of satisfaction, as one who has reached, at length, the 
 haven of his hopes ; his eye dwelt serenely on those inanimate 
 objects, which become so dear to the heart when connected 
 with recollections of the home which they environ ; and even 
 his jaded beast gave token, by erected ear and livelier motion, 
 that he too was aware that his toils were well nigh ended. 
 Suddenly, as he wheeled abruptly round a promontory of rock 
 and wood, a gleam of light, as from a distant casement, flashed 
 for an instant on his sight, and was lost again to view, as the 
 ground fell precipitously to the brink of the stream. It seemed 
 an age to the wayworn soldier ere that brief ravine was passed, 
 and the welcome ray again shone out to - 3et him. For an- 
 
SIGHT OF HOME. 251 
 
 other mile that beacon star was hidden a hundred times by 
 branch or brier, and a hundred times returned to bless his 
 soul ; till at length revealed by the glare of its broad windows, 
 the lordly pile of Woodhouselee stood forth in bold relief from 
 the sheltering foliage of its secluded dell. " Dame Margaret 
 holds high festival to-night," muttered the baron, beneath his 
 thick mustache, but there was a something in the tone which 
 belied the sentiment his words expressed, as if the speaker 
 would fain have imposed upon himself, and quelled some lurk 
 ing apprehension by the half-affected jest. And, in truth, the 
 noble Hamilton had rather looked for the sad solitude of a 
 well-night widowed bride, than for the mirth and revelry, 
 which became each instant more apparent, not in the illumina 
 tion only, but in the bursts of merriment and music that were 
 audible in every lull of the western gale. 
 
 A year had rolled its heavy hours along, since he had left 
 his lovely Margaret, a newly-wedded bride, in that forsaken 
 hall, to wield his blade in defence of Scotland s ill-starred 
 Mary. A fearful gloom had settled upon the champion s brow, 
 from the sad moment when he had torn himself from the em 
 brace of his distracted wife, and dashed his charger to its 
 speed, nor dared to look behind till the first ridge of hill had 
 concealed the temptations of his happy home. Never, for a 
 moment, had he hoped for success in that ill-omened cause ; 
 never had he deemed that Mary would live again to fill the 
 throne of her forefathers ; but honor the honor of his name, 
 of his clan, and of his country called him to lead his hardy 
 spears to join the muster of his princely chief ; and, with a 
 heavy heart, but an undaunted spirit, had he lent his voice to 
 swell the cry of " God, and the Queen," and spurred his 
 charger in the van of every skirmish, till the fatal action of 
 Langside destroyed the last hopes of his devoted party, and 
 drove the hapless Mary to seek protection from the honor and 
 
252 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 compassion of her lion-hearted rival, the cruel and despotic 
 Elizabeth. Escaped from the perils of the field, he had fallen 
 into the hands of the infuriated lords, and doomed to seal his 
 allegiance on the scaffold, he had scarcely ever hoped to fold 
 his Margaret to his heart, or bless his infant son, ere he should 
 die. Month after month he lay in hopeless durance, lament 
 ing his own approaching dissolution less far less than the 
 effusion of noble blood, which daily glutted the vengeance of 
 his conquerors. Tidings, he had received none ; nor was it 
 probable that she, for whom alone he lived, had obtained the 
 least assurance of her husband s situation; hard she must 
 know his lot, and precarious, if not hopeless, his preservation. 
 For how, when Seyton, and Fleming, and Ogilvie, and Huntly, 
 were dispersed and slain how should a Hamilton be safe ? 
 Or how when the adherents of their wretched mistress 
 were prescribed and hunted down like beasts of chase should 
 Bothwelhaugh alone be unharmed ? When a pardon from the 
 regent s hand was tendered to the noble captive, it was with 
 feelings more nearly allied to frenzy than to joy, that he had 
 issued from the gloom of his dungeon, into the free air of 
 heaven. His limbs were again free but to his mind there 
 was no freedom. Care, and defeat, and failure, had shed a 
 constant twilight over a temperament once buoyant and elastic, 
 beyond the boldest spirits of his age. Fiery, generous, and 
 enthusiastic, he had loved as he had fought almost with 
 fury. And, as is not unfrequently the case, the affections of 
 the rash and daring lover were wound up in the well-being of 
 the meekest, fairest flower of Scottish land. 
 
 Three months had hardly elapsed between the accomplish 
 ment of all his joys in the possession of his gentle Margaret, 
 and the wide alarums that rang through every glen and cleugh, 
 when Mary burst from her imprisonment to draw a deeper ruin 
 on her devoted followers, and her own royal head ; yet, in 
 
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS. 253 
 
 those three months, the very nature of the borderer had been 
 changed. He, who was never at rest, save in the saddle ; 
 who had no pleasures but in the foray or the fight, would loiter 
 now, " from morn to dewy eve," in the bower of his bride. 
 With her he would wander whole days among the lovely 
 scenery of Roslin and of Hawthornden, or pore upon the 
 chansons and virelain, which had been transplanted from the 
 courtly realms of France to the bleak hills of Scotland. With 
 her he forgot the turbulent excitements of his former course in 
 the mild tranquillity of domestic bliss. With her he had re 
 solved to live, heedless of the world s sorrow, and, in her 
 arms, he had hoped to die. He was torn from her, and, from 
 that hour, hope was dead within him. He was condemned to 
 die, but recked not of his doom ! He was set free, and he re 
 joiced not ! Even at the instant when he received advices 
 of her welfare, he felt no happiness. A heavy shadow hung 
 over him; a deep-engrossing sense of future evil which, 
 though his reason might despise it, yet struck his spirits down 
 to the very dust, and cowed his high heart with unresisted 
 terror. When he had mounted his best horse, a pardoned, un- 
 attainted noble, it was rather with the air of a wretch on his 
 way to the place of doom, than of a youthful bridegroom 
 speeding, in all the eagerness of joyful hope, to the chosen 
 of his bosom. 
 
 Gradually, however, as he neared the house of his fathers, 
 and learned that the devastating tide of war had swept past, at 
 a distance, leaving these rugged vales in unassailed security ; 
 as he ascertained from the wandering hunter, or the lonely 
 shepherd of the hills, that his adored Margaret still sat un 
 harmed in her solitary bower, without a cause of sorrow, save 
 the absence of her lord, he had succeeded in casting grief be 
 hind him. The free air of his native hills had dispelled the 
 gloom, which, for many a weary month, had weighed so heav- 
 
254 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 ily upon his soul ; and, at times, a touch of that reckless 
 gayety of mood, which had distinguished him of yore at the 
 feast and in the fray, broke forth in snatches of some lively 
 song, startling the moorland echoes with their unaccustomed 
 glee. Rapidly, however, as his mind had regained its native 
 elasticity, and loftily as his hopes had soared in their recover 
 ed confidence, yet, with tenfold rapidly, did those vain hopes 
 sink, when his eyes beheld that strange illumination, and his 
 unwilling ears admitted those ill-timed sounds of glee. It was 
 not, however, with the poignant acuteness of an unexpected 
 blow, but rather with the stern and gloomy bitterness of a 
 long-foreseen calamity, that this new certainty of evil smote 
 upon his senses. Evil it must be ! For how should she, on 
 whose affections he had staked his all, give loose to merri 
 ment, while her wedded lord was languishing in a dark and 
 silent dungeon? How should she find pleasure in the dance, 
 or lend her soul to the voluptuous strains of the minstrel, un 
 less another tale of fickleness and falsehood were to be added 
 to the gloomy annals of human sin and misery ? An over 
 whelming rush of dark and terrible thoughts burst instantane 
 ously upon his mind. Love jealousy revenge, burning 
 almost to frenzy, were mingled with despondency, and doubt, 
 and terror ! Yet, to the honor of his noble nature be it spoken, 
 the struggle lasted but for one instant ! The untainted purity, 
 the sweet humility, the hallowed devotion of his bride rose on 
 his softened memory, and swept each dark suspicion from his 
 soul, almost before it had found birth but, with repentance 
 for his momentary distrust of her, whom he now felt to be far, 
 far above the slightest taint of calumny or doubt, his fears in 
 creased to such a point, that the bold warrior trembled in his 
 saddle like a weakly child, and his steel harness clattered on 
 his limbs convulsed as by an ague. Then, as his dread became 
 more definite, he gored his weary charger with the spur, 
 
THE PERILOUS CAUSEWAY, 255 
 
 whirled his tremendous weapon from scabbard, and, with his 
 battle-cry, a " Hamilton to the rescue !" quivering on his lips, 
 ere a second had elapsed, he was driving along the broken 
 road at a pace, which, from the previous exhaustion of both 
 horse and rider, would have been deemed beyond the bounds 
 of nature. Hill and hollow, rock and wood, just glanced, like 
 meteors, on his view, and were swallowed up in distance, as 
 he rushed along. A short half mile was yet between him and 
 the solution of his hopes or fears. The path, which had 
 hitherto swept along the northern margin of the Eske, now 
 turned abruptly to the right, and, diving precipitously into the 
 dell, crossed the channel of the torrent by a ford, so dangerous 
 at periods from the rapid floods, which come down from the 
 moorlands after every summer s shower, and every winter s 
 storm, that a high and narrow bridge of planks had been 
 thrown across the chasm for the benefit of the timid or infirm. 
 No parapet or rail defended the sides of this perilous cause 
 way, though, scarcely a yard in breadth, it was reared high 
 above the slaty bed, supported partially by piers of rugged 
 masonry, and partially by blocks of the living rock, through 
 which the everlasting stream had cleft itself a passage. At a 
 single glance the borderer perceived, from the brawling fury 
 with which the turbid spray was hurled against the creaking 
 arches, that death must be the inevitable lot of any who should 
 brave the swollen ford. Without a pause, however, he drove 
 his steed, by dint of spur and tightened rein, across the clat 
 tering planks. The hand of Providence was there ! For, had 
 the charger s foot diverged one inch s breadth from its direc 
 tion, both horse and man had perished ; the smallest swerve, 
 the slightest stumble, must have hurled them headlong to de 
 struction. Once only did his hoofs clash on the echoing tim 
 ber, a second stride, and the firm rock rang beneath him. 
 But scarcely had he cleared the bridge, before the horse swung 
 
256 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 round, in mortal terror, as it were, of some aerial shape beheld 
 by him alone, with a violence that might well have cast a less- 
 experienced rider from his seat, ere he had discovered the 
 cause of his disaster. As it was, although with every advan 
 tage of support from the steady hand and practised skill of the 
 cavalier, the over-driven beast staggered a pace or two, then, 
 with a heavy, though fruitless effort at recovery, fell, rolled 
 over and over, never to rise, and, ere its master had regained 
 his footing, had stretched out all its limbs in the rigidity of 
 death. 
 
 Shaken as he was by the sudden shock, Hamilton had 
 sprung up, sword in hand, even with the speed of light ; the 
 idea of an ambush flashed upon his senses as he fell, and he 
 arose prepared for deadly strife. But the brandished blade 
 sank powerless, and the half-uttered shout was smothered in a 
 prayer, as he beheld a tall and shadowy figure, white as the 
 drifted snow, its long, loose tresses floating on the wind, and 
 its pale lips uttering strange sounds of thrilling laughter. 
 Erect upon the last abutment of the bridge, the form, whatever 
 it might be, though it had escaped the notice of the rider, oc 
 cupied by the urgency of his position, had startled the horse 
 almost into the jaws of death, and, for a moment, as the sol 
 dier gazed upon the apparition, the life-blood curdled at his 
 heart. Fearlessly, joyously, would he have plunged into the 
 mortal conflict; but thus arrayed against the powers of another 
 world, confirmed as such visions were in that dark age, even 
 by the doctrines of his church, what wonder that the boldest 
 spirit should shrink back from the unequal contest ? Not 
 long, however, could fear, even of a supernatural caste, appal 
 a mind so resolute at all times, and now so wrought to desper 
 ation, as that of Hamilton. " Maria sanctissima,* he muttered 
 " ora pro nobis ! Our border tales are true ; it is the spirit 
 of the stormy water ! But there is that within my soul to- 
 
THE APPARITION. 257 
 
 night that I must on, though the arch-fiend himself should 
 strive to bar my passage." Grasping his ponderous weapon, 
 he strode forward, as if to meet an earthly foernan, calmly 
 resolved to prove his might against the terrors of a world in 
 visible. " In the name of him," he whispered through his 
 hard-clenched teeth, " of whose most holy death thou hast no 
 portion, hence to thine-appointed place !" The shriek, which 
 burst from the ghastly form to whom he spake, might well 
 have raised the dead, if aught of earth had power to rend 
 their cerements, so high, so spiritually-piercing were its tones. 
 It ended, and a burst of horrid laughter rang upon the night- 
 air, and then the piteous wailing of unspeakable despair. The 
 moon, which had again been hidden for a while, now streamed 
 forth gloriously from .-a chasm in the rolling vapors, so sud 
 denly and so splendidly did the bright rays illuminate that 
 pallid shape, that, for an instant, he believed the light an ema 
 nation from the form itself; but, in that instant, he recognised 
 the delicate and graceful limbs, the features lovely, despite 
 their livid paleness, of his own Margaret. Not a shade of 
 color varied the dead whiteness of her cheek or lip not a 
 spark of intelligence gleamed from those eyes, once the 
 sources of unutterable love and lustre. The superb figure 
 scarcely veiled by one thin robe of linen the bosom, pulse 
 less as it seemed, to which was clasped a naked, new-born 
 babe even the tones of her voice, altered as they were and 
 terrible, were all his Margaret s. Not a doubt existed in his 
 mind but that the spirit of his wife stood thus revealed before 
 him ; and, as the conviction became strong, fear departed. 
 Grief, deep grief, was visible upon his brow ; but grief ex 
 alted, as it were, and purified by communion with the sainted 
 and imperishable part of one, who, even while loaded with the 
 imperfections of the mortal clay, had ever seemed a being 
 allied to heaven, more nearly than to earth. 
 
258 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 Casting his sword far from him, he sank silently upon his 
 knees beside the stiffening carcase of his charger ; with arms 
 outstretched, extended neck, and parted lips, he paused in 
 breathless expectation. Folding the infant closer to her cold 
 embrace, as though no mortal eye beheld, or ear attended, she 
 warbled, in a voice of surpassing sweetness, one of the most 
 pathetic ballads of her tuneful country : 
 
 X. * * # 
 
 * * * 
 
 "Balow,* she sang, my waesome babe, 
 
 Lye still, for luve o me! 
 Though mirkf the night, and keen the blast, 
 My breast sail cherish thee. 
 
 "Balow, she sang, though friends are fause, 
 
 And foes do harry me, 
 Lye still, my babe my winsome babe 
 Or I sail surely dee. 
 
 "The castle-hearth is cauld, my child, 
 
 Toomf is the castle ha 
 Our hame is in the muirland wild, 
 Our bed i the drifted snaw. 
 
 "Thy father s wandering far awa, 
 
 Thy mither s like to dee, 
 Thy gudesire s in the auld kirk garth, 
 And there s nane to succor thee. 
 
 "And never, never mair, my babe, 
 
 Shall we twa link thegither, 
 When leaves are green, and lavrocks sing, 
 I the blithesome simmer weather. 
 
 "When leaves are green, and lavrocks sing, 
 
 On ilka broomy knowe,|| 
 Then thou salt sport, my darling doo,T 
 But I ll be cauld, and low. 
 
 "But yet she sang balow my babe, 
 
 Lye still for luve o me, 
 Lye still, my babe, my winsome babe, 
 
 Or I sail surely dee." 
 
 * Balow lullaby. t Mirk, dark. J Toom, empty. Lavrocb, skylark. 
 || Knowne, knoll, hillock. 1F Doo, dove. 
 
THE MANIAC WIFE. 259 
 
 As her plaintive song ended, she flung an arm aloft with a 
 wild expression of terror, " Help ! help !" she screamed ; " to 
 arms! the foe! save save me, Hamilton! my lord, my 
 life, preserve me ! O God ! O God, is there no help from 
 earth, or heaven ? Unhand me, villains ! dearly shall ye rue 
 this night when Hamilton returns. Give me my child my 
 blessed boy. Oh ! mercy, mercy !" Like a thunderbolt the 
 truth smote on his soul. It was his wife his living wife 
 driven forth into the snowy fields to perish with her babe. At 
 a single bound he stood beside her ; madly he cast his arms 
 around her icy form " Margaret," he sobbed upon her bosom; 
 "my own own Margaret, thy Hamilton is here." " Villain," 
 she shrieked ; " thou Hamilton ! avaunt ! I know thee not ! 
 would would to God, my princely Hamilton were here ; but 
 his glorious form I never shall behold again ! But, see !" she 
 cried, " if thou hast yet a spark of mercy in thine iron heart, 
 receive and bear mine infant to his father s arms ; behold ;" 
 she moved the little body from her shivering breast, gazed 
 wistfully upon its shrunken features, and then, as the fatal 
 truth became apparent, " Cold cold ! oh ! merciful Heaven !" 
 she faltered forth in calmer tones, and sank from her husband s 
 grasp upon the chilly soil. It was in vain that her half-fren 
 zied lord stripped his own frame of garment after garment to 
 fence her from the piercing storm ; it was in vain that he 
 chafed her frozen limbs, and strove to wake her into life by 
 his warm breath ; long did she lie sobbing and trembling as 
 though her heart would leap from its place, but not a symptom 
 of returning animation blessed his hopes ; gradually she was 
 sinking into that sleep which knows no waking ; pain and 
 grief were nearly over, and it seemed as if she were about to 
 pass, without another struggle, into the presence of her Crea 
 tor. Suddenly she rallied ; her long-fringed lashes rose, and, 
 as she turned her eyes upon her husband s face, he saw, with 
 
260 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 momentary rapture, that the wild glare of insanity had faded 
 from those liquid orbs, and that she knew him. " Was it a 
 dream ?" she said ; " Hamilton, beloved husband, it is in 
 deed thus that we have met ; met only to be parted for ever ! 
 My babe, my blessed babe has gone before me. I saw his 
 little limbs convulsed with the last agony of cold, I felt the 
 last flutter of his balmy breath upon my lips, and then my 
 reason fled ! But blessed be the Virgin, I have seen, and 
 known my lord." Her words came forth more slowly, and, at 
 every pause, that dread forerunner of dissolution, the death- 
 rattle, was distinctly audible. " Fly, fly from this accursed 
 spot. Promise that you will fly to save your precious life ! 
 Oh! Hamilton I am going kiss me yet once again bless 
 you, my husband the ho ly Virgin bless you husband 
 husband !" 
 
RETURNING SPRINO. 261 
 
 PART II. 
 
 I gazed upon him where he lay, 
 
 And watched his spirit ebb away 
 
 Though pierced like pard by hunter s steel, 
 
 He felt not half that now I feel. 
 
 I searched, but vainly searched, to find 
 
 The workings of a wounded mind; 
 
 Each feature of that sullen corse 
 
 Betrayed his rage but no remorse. 
 
 Oh, what had vengeance given to trace 
 
 Despair upon his dying face. BYRON. 
 
 THE severity of winter had already begun to relax, although 
 the season of its endurance had not yet passed away ; for, as 
 it not unfrequently happens, the unwonted rigor, which had 
 characterized the last months of 1568, was succeeded by a 
 scarcely less unusual mildness in the commencement of the 
 following year. The air was mild, and, for the most part, 
 southerly ; and the continuance of soft and misty weather had 
 clothed the meadows with a premature and transitory verdure. 
 The young grass pushed forth its tender blades from the 
 mound which covered all that earth might claim of the hapless 
 wife of Hamilton, the small birds chirped above her silent 
 home, and in the vales which she had gladdened by her pres 
 ence, it seemed as though her gentle virtues were forgotten 
 almost befoie her limbs had perished in their untimely sepul 
 chre. One heart, however, there still beat, that never would 
 forget ; one heart that would have deemed forgetfulness the 
 deepest curse it could be made to feel, although the gift of 
 memory was but the source of unavailing sorrow and despair. 
 
262 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 / 
 
 Experience has fully shown that to no frame of mind is grief 
 more poignantly acute than to such as having been fashioned 
 by nature in a stern and rugged mould, averse to sympathy, 
 and hardly susceptible of any tender emotion have, by some 
 fortuitous circumstances, and in some unguarded hour, been 
 surrendered to the dominion of one master passion, which has 
 worked, in time, an entire revulsion of their feelings, and 
 changed the very aim of their existence. Such had been the 
 fate of Bothwelhaugh ; restless, fierce, and ambitious, as he 
 has been pictured in his unbridled youth ; accustomed to speak 
 and think of women with license and contempt, he had been 
 affected by the sweetness and pure love of his young bride to 
 a degree, which souls like his alone are able to conceive ; and 
 when deprived of her in a manner so fearfully horrible, and 
 with details so aggravating, the effects produced on his de 
 meanor were proportioned only to the event which gave them 
 
 birth. 
 
 No sudden burst of violence, no fierce display of temper, 
 such as, in his days of unrestrained indulgence, he hath been 
 wont to show at the loss of a favorite falcon, or a faithful 
 hound, followed upon this his first true cause for sorrow. Not 
 a tear moistened his burning eyeballs, not a sob relieved the 
 choking of his throat, as he followed his first and only love to 
 her eternal home ; a heavy stupor was upon him ; he moved, 
 spoke, and acted as if by instinct, rather than by volition ; and 
 there were those who deemed that his brain had received a 
 shock that would paralyze its faculties for ever, and that the 
 high souled and sagacious Hamilton was henceforth to be 
 rated as a moody, moping idiot. Not long, however, did this 
 unusual temper continue; for scarcely had he seen the last re 
 mains of the only being he had ever loved committed to earth, 
 ere, to the eye of a superficial observer, he appeared solely oc 
 cupied in the management of his departure from the patrimony 
 
THE BORDER PARTY. 263 
 
 of his immemorial ancestors ; few, indeed, and brief were his 
 preparations ; a charger of matchless strength and symmetry, 
 was easily provided on that warlike frontier to supply the place 
 of that which had borne him on his fatal journey ; his arms 
 were carefully inspected, the rust wiped from his two-handed 
 blade, and the powder freshened in his clumsy, but effective, 
 firearms ; and, lastly, a dozen of the hardiest riders of the 
 border side had preferred the fortunes of their natural chief, al 
 though his star was overcast, to the usurped dominions of him 
 who, by the haughty regent s favor, possessed the confiscated 
 demesnes of a better and braver man. Mounted on horses 
 famed for their hardiness and speed, and trained to all the 
 varied purposes of war ; their bright and soldier-like accoutre 
 ments contrasting strangely with the wild expression of their 
 features, their untrimmed beards, and shaggy locks, the small 
 band, as they leaned on their long lances, or secured their 
 slight equipments, around the solitary tower in which their 
 leader had passed the melancholy hours of his sojourn, pre 
 sented a picture of singular romance and beauty. Horses 
 neighed and stamped in the echoing court-yard, armor clashed, 
 and spurs jingled, and louder than all were heard the eager 
 and excited voices of the untamed borderers ; but every sound 
 was Jiushed as their stern chief came forth, surveyed the har 
 ness of every trooper, and the caparison of every steed in si 
 lence, threw himself upon his horse, and wheeled his handful 
 of men at a hard trot upon the road toward the Scottish capi 
 tal. Hardly a mile of their route had been passed, and the 
 troop was diving into the very glen which had witnessed the 
 downfall of Hamilton s sole earthly hope, when the vidette fell 
 hastily back with notice of the approach of horsemen. Hur 
 rying forward, they had already cleared the ravine, when they 
 beheld some half score lancers winding down toward the rug 
 ged ford, the followers, it seemed, of a knight who had already 
 
264 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELIIAUGH. 
 
 passed the river. There needed not a moment s halt to array 
 his fresh steeds and ready warriors for the charge, if such 
 were to be the result of the encounter. At a glance had Ham 
 ilton discovered the person of the regent s minion, the cold- 
 blooded, relentless hater, who had wreaked his coward spite 
 upon his unoffending, helpless wife ; nor were his followers 
 slower in recognising the usurper of their chieftain s patrimony. 
 With a fierce and triumphant yell, they dashed their spurs into 
 their horses flanks, and with levelled spears and presented 
 match-locks, threatened inevitable destruction to the victim 
 who was thus hopelessly surrendered to their mercy. The 
 nearest of his train was separated from him by the wide and 
 stony channel of the Eske, nor was it possible that he could 
 be joined by succor in time to. preserve him from the fury of 
 those wild avengers. To the astonishment, however, of both 
 parties, Bothwelhaugh, who had only learned the deadly in 
 tentions of his men from the hoarse clamor with which they 
 greeted the appearance of their destined prey, himself reined 
 up his horse with a shock so sudden that it had nearly thrown 
 him on his haunches " How now !" he shouted, in the short 
 tones of resolution ; " vassals ! halt, or I cleave the foremost 
 to his teeth ! Saint Mary aid us ; but we have fair disci 
 pline !" His determined words, no less than the readiness 
 with which he had upon the instant beat down the lances of 
 the fiercest troopers, arrested their wild violence ; and before 
 the intended victim had prepared his mind either for resistance 
 or submission, the peril was at an end. 
 
 Wheeling his party upon the narrow green beside the bridge, 
 the bereaved husband halted, awaiting the approach of his wife s 
 destroyer, with an apathy which, to the veterans who had fol 
 lowed him in many a bloody day, appeared no less incompre 
 hensible than shameful ; while one by one the enemy filed 
 through the narrow pass formed, hesitated for a space, and 
 
THE MINION. 265 
 
 then, perceiving that no opposition would be offered to their 
 progress, marched onward with a steady front, and well-dis 
 sembled resolution. Last of the troop, with downcast eye and 
 varying complexion, as though he scarcely dared to hope for 
 mercy from a man whom he had so irreparably injured, rode 
 the usurper, expecting at every step to hear the border slogan 
 pealing from the lips, and to feel the death-blow thundering 
 from the arm of him, to whom he had given such ample cause 
 to curse the hour when he was born. Motionless as a statue 
 sate the noble Hamilton on his tall war-horse, his broadsword 
 at rest within its scabbard, and hi^ countenance as calm, and 
 almost as dark, as midnight ; yet, whatever were the feelings 
 that induced the borderer to forego his vengeance, when cir 
 cumstances thus wooed him to the deed, it was evident that 
 mercy had no place within his soul at that tremendous mo 
 ment. The heavy gloom that dimmed his eye the deep 
 scowl upon his brow the compression of his lips and the 
 quivering motion of his fingers, as they hovered upon the gripe 
 of his dagger, betokened no slight or transitory struggle ; and 
 the deep breath drawn from the bottom of the chest, as the 
 hated minion disappeared, spoke, as plainly as words, the re 
 lief which he experienced at the removal of so powerful a 
 temptation. "No!" he muttered between his teeth "it 
 would have been a deed of madness ! To have crushed the 
 jackall would but have roused the lion into caution ! Let 
 them deem me coward slave fool! if they will so / 
 have my revenge !" Again he resumed his route in silence, 
 nor did a word, save an occasional command, fall from him by 
 which the train of his sensations might have been discovered ; 
 all day he pursued his march with unwearied diligence, bare 
 ly allowing such brief intervals of rest as might enable his 
 cattle to proceed with recruited vigor and, while toiling 
 through the deep morass, or over the pathless hill, night closed, 
 
 12 
 
266 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 starless and overcast, above his houseless head ; but little mat 
 tered it to such men as that determined soldier and his rugged 
 comrades, whether night found them on the lonely moor or in 
 the lighted hall. And if they thought at all upon the subject, it 
 was but to congratulate themselves on the fortunate obscurity 
 which agreed so well with their mysterious enterprise. 
 
 The second moon was in her wane, from that which had 
 beheld the death of Margaret, and her miserable babe ; yet the 
 savage executor of her fate lorded it securely in the halls 
 which had so lately been the dwelling of female innocence 
 and peace. For a while men looked for a sure and speedy ret 
 ribution from the fatal wrath of him who had never yet been 
 known to fail a friend, or to forgive a foe ; yet day succeeded 
 day, and, with the impunity of the murderer, the astonishment 
 at first, and ere long the scorn of all, pursued the recreant hus 
 band and fugitive chief of a name once so noble. Some gray- 
 haired veterans there were, who would ominously shake their 
 heads, and press their fingers to the lip, when topics such as 
 these were broached, or hint that the lord of Bothwelhaugh 
 would bide his time, and that, if he were unaccountably slow 
 in seeking his revenge, he paused but to mak sicker ;* gene 
 rally, however, an idea prevailed that the spirit of Hamilton 
 had been so utterly prostrated by the blow, that no gallant deed 
 of vengeance which was held in those days of recent bar 
 barism, not only justifiable, but in the highest degree praise 
 worthy and honorable was now to be dreaded by his foes, or 
 hailed by his firm adherents. Little, however, did they know 
 the man whom they presumed to stigmatize as a recreant, or a 
 coward ; and still less could they conceive the change, which 
 had been brought about by a single event in his formerly rash 
 
 * The celebrated words of Kirkpatrick, the companion of Robert 
 Bruce, when he returned to complete the slaughter of Coinyn, who had 
 been stabbed at the high-altar by the patriot. 
 
THE REGENT. 267 
 
 and unthinking temper. Once, not an instant would have 
 elapsed between the commission of the crime and its punish 
 ment ; once, he would have rushed upon a thousand perils to 
 confront the man who wronged him, and would have set his 
 life at naught in avenging his tarnished honor. Now, on the 
 contrary, his bold and open hardihood was exchanged for a 
 keen and subtle cunning ; now he hoarded, with a miser s 
 care that life which he had set upon a thousand times ; not 
 that he loved his life, but that he had devoted it to the attain 
 ment of one object, which had become the single aim of his 
 existence. It was from the quiver of Murray that the arrow 
 had been selected, which had pierced his love, and he haugh 
 tily overlooked the wretched villain, who had aimed the dart, 
 in his anxiety to smite the mightier though remoter agent, who 
 furnished his tool with that power which had destroyed his all. 
 
 Successful in his ambitious projects, backed by the almost 
 omnipotent league of the covenanted lords, wielding the trun 
 cheon of the regency as firmly as though it were a royal scep 
 tre, feared and honored by Scotland, respected by the lion- 
 queen of England, Murray entertained no doubt, harbored no 
 lurking dread, of a man too insignificant, as he deemed in his 
 overweening confidence, to cope with the occupant of Scot 
 land s throne. 
 
 Returning from an expedition through the vales of Esk and 
 Clyde, whose romantic waters had been dyed with blood by 
 his remorseless policy, leaving sad traces of his progress in 
 smoking villages and ruined towers, he had reached Linlithgow 
 on his progress toward his capital. Surrounded by a select 
 force of the best warriors from every lowland plain or high 
 land glen, he had entered the antique town as the last sun that 
 was ever to set for him sank slowly into a bed of threatening 
 clouds : and all night long the streets of Linlithgow rang with 
 mingled sounds of war and revelry. From leagues around the 
 
268 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHATJGH. 
 
 population of the country had crowded in to feast their eyes 
 with the triumphant entry, and pay their homage to the well 
 nigh royal conqueror ; many an eye was sleepless on the 
 memorable night, but few from sorrow or anxiety ; yet there 
 was one within the precincts of those antiquated walls, whose 
 presence, had it been whispered in the regent s ear, would 
 have shaken his dauntless heart with an unwonted tremor. 
 Overlooking from its Gothic bartizan, the market-place of the 
 old city, stood one of those gloomy dwellings, with its tur- 
 retted gable to the street, its oaken portal clenched with many 
 a massive spike and bar, and its narrow casements subdivided 
 by stone transoms, which are yet to be seen in several of the 
 Scottish boroughs, presenting evident traces of having been 
 erected in that iron time, when every man s house was in 
 truth his castle. Here, in a narrow gallery which commanded 
 the principal thoroughfare, without a light to cheer his solitude, 
 or fire to warm his limbs, watched the avenger. The night 
 was raw and gusty, yet he felt not the penetrating breath of 
 winter ; he had ridden many a weary mile, yet his eyelids 
 felt no inclination to slumber ; he had fasted since the pre 
 ceding night, yet he knew no hunger ; he stood upon the 
 brink of murder, yet he shuddered not. Before the sun had 
 set, he had despatched his last attendant to the castle of his 
 princely kinsman the duke, who bore his name, and owned his 
 fealty ; he had supplied his charger with the grain which was 
 to serve him for to-morrow s race, in one of the lower halls of 
 the deserted house ; he had barricaded every portal with un 
 wonted deliberation, and secured the windows with chain and 
 bar ; he had prepared all that was needful for the tragedy he 
 was about to perpetrate, and now he was alone with his con 
 science and his God ! 
 
 His mind, wrought to the highest pitch of resolution, 
 dreamed not of compunction, nor did he for an instant doubt 
 
THE AVENGER S HOUR. 269 
 
 his full justification in the eyes of his Creator, although he was 
 lying in wait secretly to mark a fellow-being, as though he 
 were a beast of the chase. Nor indeed did he feel so much 
 of hesitation in leveling his rifle* at his brother man, as he 
 had often experienced in striking down the antlered monarch 
 of the waste. Oftentimes, when the beautiful deer had been 
 stretched at his feet by his unerring aim, with its grace 
 ful limbs unstrung for ever, and its noble crest grovelling in 
 the dust, had he sorrowed in secret over the destruction he 
 had wrought for momentary pleasure ; but no such thoughts 
 were here to meet his resolution, or to damp his anticipated 
 triumph. As he paced on his short beat with firm and meas 
 ured stride, he reckoned the minutes with trembling anxiety, 
 and as the successive hours clanged from the lofty steeple, he 
 cursed the space that yet divided him from his revenge ; still, 
 amidst all his eagerness, he had the strength of mind to banish 
 from his thoughts all recollections of the grievance, which he 
 never recurred to but he felt his brain reel, and his nerves 
 tremble with fury, which he could neither guide nor moderate. 
 Night, however, though it may be tedious even to disgust, can 
 not endure for ever ; and, in due time, the misty light of dawn 
 glimmered through the narrow panes upon the scene of fatal 
 preparation. The wall facing the window, hung from the 
 
 * "The carabine with which the regent was shot, is still preserved at 
 Hamilton palace, it is a brass piece of middling length, very small in the 
 bore; and, what is rather extraordinary, appears to have been rifled, or 
 indented in the barrel. It had a matchlock, for which a modern firelock 
 has been injudiciously substituted." Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 We believe this to be the earliest rifle on record ; in many superb col 
 lections of armor which it has been our fortune to inspect, we have seen 
 fire-arms of all dates and countries, but have never seen a rifle bearing 
 an earlier date than the end of the 17th, or commencement of the 18th 
 century; yet the death of the regent occurred in January, 1569, at which 
 period the harquebuss, or caliver, in common use was so unwieldy, that 
 the use of archery had been but recently exploded. Ed. 
 
270 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHATJGH. 
 
 ceiling to the floor with black cloth, that no shadow might be* 
 tray the lurking enemy, the piles of bedding strewed upon the 
 floor to prevent a single footfall from awakening suspicion, 
 and, on a table by the casement, the match-lock rifle, with its 
 slow match already kindled, the horn and bullets ready for the 
 hand, no less than the accoutrements and bearing of the man, 
 proclaimed the fixed determination with which he had plotted, 
 and the cold-blooded preparation with which he was prompt to 
 execute his enemy s destruction. 
 
 As the morning broke, a wild flourish of trumpets sounded 
 the reveille ftom a distant quarter of the town, wherein his vic 
 tim had passed the hours of sleep in undisturbed tranquillity. 
 The sound fell upon the ear of Hamilton, and, thrilling to his 
 heart s core, stirred him like the horse of Job. Again he ap 
 plied himself to his task ; again he reconnoitred every outlet 
 to the main street, and made assurance doubly sure that, for 
 ten minutes, at the least, the fastenings could resist any as 
 saults short of the shot of ordnance ; he equipped his charger 
 with the lightest trappings, tried every buckle, and proved the 
 least important thong ; then, as the time drew nigh, led him forth 
 silently to the rear of the building, whence a gloomy and neg 
 lected garden conducted to an unfrequented lane, by which 
 he might gain access to the open country. Still, when all this 
 was finished, when the preparations were concluded, and his 
 escape provided to the utmost that human foresight could 
 effect, a tedious hour had yet to creep away before the success 
 of his machinations should be ascertained. Cautiously he re 
 traced his steps, and entering once more upon the scene of 
 action, prepared his weapon for the deed with scrupulous at 
 tention ; the first smile that had lightened his gloomy brow 
 now flashed across it as he drove the leaden messenger down 
 the tube, from which it was soon to be launched on its career 
 of blood ; and raising the well-proved instrument to his un- 
 
THE REGENT S APPROACH. 271 
 
 erring eye, examined with a markman s skill its range and bal 
 ance. Then coolly, as though he were about to provide himself 
 against the inconveniences of a protracted chase, drawing from 
 a recess food and wine, he broke bread and drank, not without 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Hardly had he finished his slender meal before the distant 
 chime of the matin bells, proclaiming the earliest service of 
 the church, tinkled upon the breeze. Reverently, devoutly 
 did the future murderer sink upon his knees, and fervently did 
 he implore the aid of that Being, who, if it be not impious to 
 imagine the ideas of Divinity, must have looked down with ab 
 horrence on the supplication of one who was even then plot 
 ting a deed of blood, unless the ignorance and barbarism of 
 the age might pass for some alleviation of individual error in 
 the sight of Him who is no less a God of mercy than of justice 
 and of truth. Strengthened in his awful purpose, and confi 
 dent of both the goodness and the approaching triumph of his 
 cause, Hamilton rose up from his ill-judged devotions. Sud 
 denly the roar of artillery shook the casements, and the din of 
 martial music, trumpet, horn, and kettle-drum, mingling in wild 
 discordance with the pibrochs of the highland clans, an 
 nounced that the regent had commenced his progress. 
 
 At once every symptom of anxiety or eagerness disappeared 
 from the lowering countenance of Hamilton ; while there had 
 been uncertainty, the slightest possible shade of trepidation 
 had appeared in his demeanor ; but now, as in the warlike 
 symphony, and the acclamations of the populace, he foresaw 
 the success of all his desperate machinations, he was calm 
 and self-possessed ; now, when a meaner spirit would have 
 shrunk from the completion of the deed, which it had dared 
 to plan, but lacked the resolution to perform, the full extent 
 of his determination was most manifest. There was a quiet 
 composure in his eye, a serene complacency in the repose of 
 
272 HAMILTON OF BOTH WELHAUGH. 
 
 every feature, which, as considered in connection with his 
 dreadful purpose, was more appalling, than the fiercest burst 
 of passion. Firm as a statue he stood in the dark embrasure, 
 the ready weapon in his hand, and his keen glance watching 
 the approach of his doomed victim. Louder and louder 
 swelled the notes of triumph ; and now the very words of the 
 applauding concourse became audible: "God save the regent!" 
 " Life to the noble Murray !" Then a score of lancers lightly 
 equipped, and nobly mounted, clattered along the echoing 
 street to clear a path for the procession ; but their efforts were 
 exerted to no purpose, the populace, which thronged the area 
 of the place closed in behind the soldiers, as waves uniting in 
 the wake of some swift sailer, and, in their eagerness to prove 
 the extent of their good wishes, frustrated their own intent, and 
 rendered their favorite s doom more certain. Banner after ban 
 ner, troop after troop, swept onward ! Glittering in all the gor- 
 geousness of steel and scarlet, marshalled by men whose fame 
 for warlike science and undaunted bravery might have chal 
 lenged the glory of earth s most widely-bruited heroes, elated 
 with recent victory, and proud of the unconquered leader whom 
 they guarded, they trampled on, " defying earth and confident 
 of heaven." Morton was there, with his sneering smile and 
 downcast eye, as when he struck his poniard into the heart of 
 Rizzio ; and Lindsay, of the Byres, sordid in his antiquated 
 garb and rusty armor, with the hardest heart beneath his iron 
 corslet that ever beat in a human breast ; and Kircaldy, of the 
 Grange, the best and bravest soldier of the age ; and the cele 
 brated Knox, riding in his clerical garb amidst the spears 
 Knox, of whom it was justly spoken after his decease, that he had 
 never feared the face of man ! and the chief of the Macfarlanes 
 with his shadowy tartans, and the eagle-feather in his bonnet, 
 and a thousand kilted caterans at his heels ! But proudly as 
 the marshalled ranks proceeded on their march, and haughty 
 
THE MURDER. 273 
 
 as was the bearing of the crested warriors, there was not a 
 man in all the train that could compare in thevves and sinews 
 with him who watched within. His closely-fitting dress of 
 chamois leather, displaying the faultless proportions of his 
 limbs, the elasticity of his tread, the majestic melancholy of 
 his expression, gained by the contrast, when viewed beside 
 the pomp and splendor of his haughty foemen. Another troop 
 of lancers striving in vain to remove the crowded spectators 
 from the route ; and then, preceded by heralds in their quar 
 tered tabards, amid the clang of instruments, and the redoubled 
 clamors of the multitude, on a gray, which had been cheaply 
 purchased at the price of an earl s ransom, sheathed from head 
 to heel in the tempered steel of Milan, Murray came forth, in. 
 all but name a king. So closely did the crowd press forward, 
 that the chargers of the knights could barely move at a foot s 
 pace. Glencairn was at his right, and on his left, the truest 
 of his followers, Douglas of Parkhead. 
 
 The pomp had passed unnoticed ; the well-known figures 
 had gleamed before the eyes of Hamilton, like phantoms in a 
 troubled dream ; but no sooner had his victim met his eye, 
 than the ready rifle was at his shoulder. The regent s face 
 was turned toward his murderer, and full at the broad brow 
 did the avenger point the tube. The match was kindled, the 
 finger pressed the trigger, when, at a word from Douglas, he 
 turned his head ; the massive cerveilliere would have defied a 
 hail of bullets, and the moment for the deed was lost. With 
 out a moment s pause, without removing the weapon from his 
 eye, or his eye from the living mark, he suffered the muzzle 
 to sink slowly down the line of Murray s person. Just below 
 the hip, where the rim of the corslet should have lapped over 
 the jointed cuishes, there was one spot at which the crimson 
 velvet of his under-garb glared through a crevice in the plates, 
 a French crown would have guarded twice the space, yet 
 
 12* 
 
274 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 on that trifling aperture the deadly aim was fixed. A broad 
 flash was thrown upon the faces of the group, and ere the sound 
 had followed the streak of flame, the gray dashed madly for 
 ward, with empty saddle, and unmastered rein. The con 
 queror had fallen in the very flush of his pride ; and, at 
 the first glance, it seemed, he had not fallen singly, for so 
 true had been the aim, and so resistless the passage of the 
 bullet, that, after piercing through his vitals, it had power to 
 rend the steel asunder, and slay the horse of Douglas. For a 
 moment there was a silence a short, breathless pause the 
 gathering of the tempest! a yell of execration and revenge, 
 and a hundred axes thundered on the steel-clenched portal. 
 
 One instant the avenger leaned forth from the casement in 
 the full view of all, to mark the death-pang of his prey. He 
 saw the life-blood welling from the wound, he saw the death- 
 sweat clogging his darkened brow, he saw the bright eye 
 glaze, and the proud lip curl in the agony but he saw not, 
 what he had longed to trace remorse terror at quitting 
 earth despair of gaining heaven ! He turned away in deeper 
 torment than the dying mortal at his feet, for he felt that all 
 his wrongs were now but half avenged ! The presence of the 
 murderer lent double vigor to the arms of his pursuers a 
 dozen flashes of musketry from the crowd glanced on his sight 
 a dozen bullets whistled round his head but he bore a 
 charmed life. The gate shook, crashed beneath the force of 
 the assailants fell, as he sprang into the saddle ! He locked 
 the sally-port behind him, darted through the lonely garden, 
 gained the lane, and saw the broad free moors before him. 
 But, as he cleared the court, a score of light-armed horsemen 
 wheeled round the corner of the building, dashed their horses 
 to their speed, and, with tremendous shouts, galloped recklessly 
 in the pursuit. It was a fearful race, the broken pavement 
 of the lane presented no obstacle to their precipitate haste ; 
 
A RIDE FOR LIFE. 275 
 
 pursuers and pursued plied spur and scourge with desperate 
 eagerness, and, for a space, a lance s length was hardly clear 
 between the fugitive and the half-frantic soldiery ; but gradu 
 ally the lighter equipments, and the fresher steed of Hamilton, 
 began to tell. He had already gained a hundred yards, and, 
 at every stride, was leaving his enemies yet further in the 
 rear ; there were no fire-arms among the knot, who pressed 
 most closely on his traces, and he would now have gained the 
 open country, and have escaped without a further struggle ; 
 but, as he cleared the straggling buildings of the suburb, a 
 fresh relay of troopers met him in the front, headed by Lind 
 say, Morton, and Glencairn. Had they been ten yards further 
 in advance, the life of Bothwelhaugh would not have been 
 worth a moment s purchase but he had yet a chance. On. 
 the left hand of the road lay a wide range of moorland pas 
 tures, stretching downward to a deep and sluggish brook, beyond 
 which the land extended in waste and forest far away to the 
 demesnes of James of Arran, duke of Chatelherault and Hamil 
 ton. A six-foot wall, of unhewn limestone, parted the grass 
 land from the highway, and, without a pause, he turned his 
 horse s head straight to the lofty barrier. At the top of his 
 pace, the steed drove on a steady pull upon the rein, a sharp 
 plunge of the spurs, and, with a fearful bound, he got clear 
 over; but, with equal resolution did the confederate lords 
 pursue Lindsay was still the foremost, and three others 
 thundered close behind ! Another, and another of these huge 
 fences crossed their line, but not a rider faltered, not a horse 
 fell. The price of the chase was fearful the pace, at which 
 it was maintained, was too exhausting for both man and beast 
 to be supported long, and, obviously, the chances of the fugi 
 tive were fast diminishing. Another wall another success 
 ful leap Lindsay is down, but Morton takes his place the 
 bottom of the hill is gained, and the winding streamlet lies 
 
276 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 before them, deep and unfordable, its rugged banks rising pre 
 cipitously from the water s edge, and beyond it the tangled 
 shelter of the forest. Already the pursuers considered their 
 success as certain already the shout of triumph was bursting 
 from their lips, and the avenging blades unsheathed. Both- 
 welhaugh saw that his case was well-nigh hopeless, yet he 
 urged his horse against the yawning brook ; but the good 
 steed, jaded by his exertions, and cowed by the brightness of 
 the water, shyed wildly from the leap, and stopped short, 
 trembling in every joint. Calmly the soldier tightened his 
 rein, breathed the exhausted animal ten seconds space, and, 
 drawing his light hunting-sword, rode slowly back, as if to 
 face his enemies. The cry of exultation, which was raised 
 by all who saw him turn to bay, was heard distinctly at Lin- 
 lithgow, and every one, who heard it, deemed the murderer s 
 head secure. Morton and Glencairn strove hard for the honor 
 of striking down the slayer of their friend but, when within 
 a horse s length, Hamilton turned once again, pulled hard upon 
 his curb, stood in his stirrups, and, as he reached the brink, 
 brought down his naked hanger edgewise on the courser s 
 croup. The terrified brute sprang wildly forward, cleared the 
 tremendous chasm, and would have fallen on the other verge 
 but for the powerful hand of the rider. With a startling shout 
 of exultation, he shook his arm aloft, scowled on his baffled 
 enemies, and was lost to their sight amid the leafless thickets ! 
 
A SUNSET IN AUGUST. 277 
 
 PART III. 
 
 * * Fare thee well, lord ; 
 
 I would not be the villain that thou thinkest, 
 For the whole space that s in the tyrant s grasp, 
 And the rich east to boot Macbeth, Act IV., Scene 3. 
 
 THE sun was setting after a lovely day in August, and his 
 rays still gilded the broad mirror of the Seine, and the rich 
 scenery of Paris palaces, towers, and domes, with crowded 
 streets, and shadowy groves between reposing in the mellow 
 light, while the heat, which had been so oppressive in the 
 earlier hours, was now tempered by a soft breeze from the 
 west. Tranquil, nowever, as that picture showed when viewed 
 from a distance, there was little of tranquillity in aught beyond 
 the view ; the bells from a hundred steeples were ringing out 
 their liveliest tones of joy, banners and pennons of many col 
 ors flaunted from every pinnacle, while ever and anon the 
 heavy roar of cannon was mingled with the acclamations of 
 the countless multitude. Every window was thronged with 
 joyous faces, every place and thoroughfare swarmed with the 
 collected population of that mighty city, all, as it seemed, par 
 taking of one common happiness, and glowing with mutual be 
 nevolence. Here swept along a procession of capuchins in 
 their snowy robes, with pix and chalice, banner and crucifix, 
 censers steaming with perfumes, and manly voices swelling in 
 religious symphony ; here some proud count of Romish faith, 
 descended from his warhorse, and bent his lofty crest to the 
 very dust in adoration of the elevated host : and here some no 
 
2t8 
 
 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 less noble Huguenot passed on in calm indifference, without 
 exciting either wonder, as it would appear, or anger by his in 
 attention to the holiest ceremonial of the church. Minstrels 
 and jongleurs with rote and viol, professors of the gai science in 
 every different tongue, and with almost every instrument, were 
 mingled with peasant-maidens in their variegated garbs and 
 wooden shoes, and condottieri sheathed in steel. Fair dames 
 and gallant knights of high descent jostled, forgetful of their 
 proud distinctions, with the despised plebeians whose hearts 
 yet beat as lightly beneath their humble garments, as if they 
 throbbed under robes of ermine, and embroideries of gold. At 
 this delicious hour, and contemplating this moving picture, two 
 persons stood, shrouded from public view by the rich draperies 
 of the window, in a projecting oriel of the royal residence a 
 youth, whose unmuscular limbs and beardless cheek pro 
 claimed his tender years, although the deep lines graven on 
 his brow by intense thought, or trenched by the fiery plough 
 share of unmastered passions, belonged to a maturer age. His 
 cloak and jerkin of Genoa velvet slashed and faced with satin, 
 and fringed with the most costly lace of Flanders, were of 
 the deepest sable, from which flashed forth in strong relief 
 his knightly belt and collar of invaluable diamonds. In person, 
 air, and garb, he was one, from whom the stranger s eye would 
 turn in aversion, and return again to gaze, as if by some wild 
 fascination, upon that sallow countenance and hollow eye, 
 marked as they were by feelings most high and most unholy. 
 Beside him stood a female of superb stature, and a form still 
 as symmetrical as though her eighteenth summer had not yet 
 passed away. There was a fierce and lionlike beauty in her 
 masculine features, but that beauty was defaced and rendered 
 horrible by the dreadful expression, which glared from her 
 eyes, as though some demon were looking forth from the abode 
 he had usurped within a mortal frame, of more than mortal 
 
CATHARINE DE MEDICIS. 279 
 
 majesty.* Her garb was like her son s, for such was he on 
 whom she leaned, of the deepest mourning, but gathered round 
 her waist by a broad cincture of brilliants, from which a mas 
 sive rosary of gold and gems hung nearly to the knee ; her 
 long tresses, which, though sprinkled now with many a silvery 
 hair, might once have shamed the raven, were braided closely 
 round her forehead and partially confined beneath a circlet of 
 the same precious jewels. They were, in truth, a pair pre 
 eminently stamped by Nature s hand, and marked out, as it 
 were, from the remainder of their species, for the performance 
 of some strange destiny, or good or evil. Had Catharine de 
 Medicis and her royal son been enveloped in the meanest 
 weeds, stripped of all ensigns of their dignity, and encountered 
 in regions most distant from their empire, they must have in 
 stantly been recognised as persons born to exalted eminence 
 above their fellow-mortals, and singularly qualified by talents, 
 no less powerful than perverted, for the art of government. A 
 single gentleman, in royal liveries, attended in an antechamber 
 on his sovereign s call, while in a gallery beyond the nodding 
 plumes and gorgeous armor of the Italian mercenaries, who at 
 that period were in truth the flower of all continental armies, 
 showed that the privacy of monarchs, if splendid, was but in 
 secure, inasmuch as their power was enthroned upon the fears 
 rather than upon the affections of their subjects. For many 
 moments they gazed in silence on the passing throng, but it 
 was evident from the working of both their countenances, that 
 their survey had for its object anything, rather than the mere 
 gratification of curiosity. At length as a noble-looking war 
 rior, his venerable locks already blanched to snowy whiteness, 
 before his nervous limbs had given a solitary token of decay, 
 rode slowly past, attended by a brilliant train, in confident se 
 curity a scornful smile curled the dark features of the boy 
 with even more than wonted malignity. " The simple fool !" 
 
280 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 he whispered to his evil counsellor. " He rides as calmly 
 through the courts of our palace, as though he marshalled his 
 accursed heretics within his guarded leaguer !" 
 
 "Patience! my son," returned that fiendlike parent "pa 
 tience, yet for a while. A few days more and the admiral 
 shall cumber the earth no longer. The sword is already 
 whetted for his carcase, and would to Heaven that all our foes 
 were tottering on the edge of the same gulf, which is prepared 
 for thee, Gaspar de Coligni." 
 
 " I would it were over," answered Charles ; " there is more 
 of subtlety and warlike skill in that gray head, than in a 
 hundred Condes. The day approaches the day that must 
 dawn upon the brightest triumph of the church ; and yet so 
 long as that man lives, nothing is certain. One doubt in that 
 shrewd mind, and all is lost. He must be dealt upon right 
 shortly I would it might be done to-morrow !" 
 
 He raised his eyes half-doubtingly to the countenance of his 
 mother, and almost started at the illumination of triumphant ven 
 geance, which kindled in her withering smile " To-morrow 
 he shall perish !" she hissed, in the suppressed tones of deadly 
 hatred and unalterable resolution "What, ho! who waits 
 there ?" she continued, as her quick eye caught a glimpse of a 
 passing figure in the crowd To-morrow he shall perish, and 
 there stands the man who must perform the deed ! God s 
 head ! must I call twice ! without there !" and in the furious 
 anxiety of the moment, she stamped her heel upon the tessela- 
 ted floor till the very casements shook. Startled by her vehe 
 mence, the page drew near on bended knee, and was faltering 
 forth apologies, when with a voice of thunder she cut him 
 short "Nearer! thou dolt nearer I say wilt pause till 
 t is too late ! Look forth here ! seest thou yon tall swords 
 man ! him with the velvet bonnet and St. Andrew s cross? 
 Thou dost? After him with the speed of light! say to 
 
SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 281 
 
 him what thou wilt, so thou sayst not I sent thee, but bring 
 him to his majesty s apartment, so soon as night shall have 
 well fallen! Hence, begone! Cover thy liveries with a 
 simple riding-cloak, and away ! Why dost thou pause ? Be 
 gone nay, hold ! if he should doubt, or fear, say to him as a 
 token, The sword is the most certain spur ! " 
 
 The man, whose form had thus attracted the notice of Cath 
 arine, might well have drawn attention by his magnificent pro 
 portions alone, even had his habit been less at variance, than 
 it was, with the established fashion of the country. A plain 
 bonnet of dark velvet, with the silver cross of Scotland, and a 
 single eagle s feather, drawn forward almost to his eyebrows, 
 a corslet of steel, burnished till it shone as brightly as silver, 
 worn above a dress of chamois-leather exquisitely dressed, 
 and fitting with unusual closeness to his limbs, offered a sin 
 gular contrast, from its plainness and total want of ornament, 
 to the gorgeous garments of the French cavaliers fluttering 
 with fringes, and slashed with a dozen different colors, besides 
 the laces and embroidery of gold or silver, which were, at 
 that period, the prevailing order of the day. Still more wide 
 ly did the old-fashioned broadsword of the stranger, with its 
 blade four feet in length, and its two-handed gripe, differ from 
 the diamond-hilted rapiers of the Parisian gallants ; and most 
 of all did the stern and melancholy air of the noble Scot for 
 such did his bearing and his dress proclaim him distinguish 
 him from the joyous, and, at times, frivolous mirth of the gay 
 youths, who crossed his path at every step. Nor did his ap 
 pearance fail to attract comments, not of the most flattering de 
 scription, from the French chivalry, who, renowned as they most 
 justly were, for skill in the tilt-yard, and valor in the field, had, 
 even at distant era, acquired the character of coxcombry and 
 over-attention to externals, which is by some supposed to have 
 descended to the present generation. It is probable that it was 
 
282 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHATTGH. 
 
 owing in no slight degree, to the muscular form and determined 
 port of the soldier, that these comments did not assume a more 
 offensive shape ; yet, even thus, they had nearly kindled the 
 ire of the formidable individual to whom they bore reference. 
 " Heavens ! what a wild barbarian !" lisped a fair girl to 
 the splendidly-dressed cavalier on whom she leaned. " A 
 Scottish Highlander, I fancy," returned the gallant, after a con 
 temptuous glance, " with his broadsword of the twelfth century, 
 and his foreign gait and swagger." The blood rushed furiously 
 into the weather-beaten cheeks of the proud foreigner, and for a 
 second he doubted whether he should not hurl defiance into 
 the teeth of the audacious jester, but, with the reflection of a 
 moment, his better sense prevailed. Twirling his mustache 
 with a grim and scornful smile, he passed upon his way, 
 shouldering the press before him, as he muttered, "The painted 
 popinjays, they neither know the weapons of men, nor the 
 courtesy of cavaliers !" It was at this moment that the emis 
 sary of the queen, who had easily tracked a figure so remark 
 able as his of whom he was in quest, overtook and brushed 
 him somewhat roughly on the elbow as he passed. "Follow," 
 he said ; " follow me, if you have the heart of a man." When 
 first he had felt the touch, yet boiling with indignation at the 
 treatment he had experienced, he had half unsheathed his 
 poniard ; but having received, as he imagined in the words 
 which followed, an invitation to a proper spot for appealing to 
 the sword, he strode onward in the wake of his challenger, 
 silent and determined. A few steps brought them to a narrow 
 alley, into which his guide plunged, turning his head to mark 
 whether he was followed as he wished ; and, after threading one 
 or two intricate and unfrequented streets, they turned into the 
 royal gardens, which, now so famous, even then were decorated 
 with no common skill. " This spot, at length, will suit us," said 
 the Frenchman. " Monsieur is, undoubtedly, a man of honor ?" 
 
THE SUMMONS. 283 
 
 " You should have learned my quality," replied the haughty 
 Scot, " before you dared to offer me an insult. Draw, sir, we 
 are here to fight, and not to parley !" 
 
 " Not so, beau sire," returned the other, not a little annoyed 
 as it would seem, at the unexpected turn which the affair had 
 taken; "I am the bearer of a message to you a message from 
 a lady, not a cartel !" 
 
 " Now out upon thee for a pitiful pandar," said the Scot, 
 with increased ire ; " dost thou take me for a boy to be 
 cheated with such toys as these ? Out with your weapon, be 
 fore I compel you to it by the hard word, and the harder 
 blow !" 
 
 " May all the saints forefend !" replied the frightened cour 
 tier ; " your valor, my fair sir, has flown away with your dis 
 cretion. I come to you a peaceful bearer of a friendly invita 
 tion, and you will speak of naught but words. A lady of the 
 high nobility would speak with you on matters of high import, 
 would charge you with the execution of a perilous and honor 
 able trust ; if you will undertake it, meet me here at ten 
 o clock to night, and I will lead you to the rendezvous ; if not, 
 I will return to those who sent me, and report the Scottish 
 cavalier as wanting in that high valor of which men speak, 
 when they repeat his name !" 
 
 " It is a wild request," answered the other, after a short 
 pause. " How know I but that you train me to some decoy ? 
 I have foes enough to make it like, I trow. What if I bring a 
 partner ?" 
 
 " It is impossible ; alone you must undertake the feat, or 
 undertake it not at all. But hold, I had a token for your 
 ear The sword is the most certain spur know you the 
 phrase ?" 
 
 " As arguing myself, known; but whether by a friend, or by 
 a foe, your phrase says nothing. Nay, be it as it may, I have 
 
284 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 stood some risks before, and I will bide the blast even now ! 
 At ten o clock, I will be at the tryst. Till then " 
 
 " Adieu," returned the other, and vanished among the shrub 
 bery before the Scot could have prevented him, if he had been 
 so minded. But such was not his intention ; his mind had 
 been gratified by the singularity, no less than surprised by the 
 boldness of the request. Naturally brave almost to rashness, 
 banished from his native land for political causes, and without 
 the means of providing for his wants, much less of supporting 
 the appearances demanded by his rank, he eagerly looked for 
 ward to any opportunity of raising himself to distinction, per 
 haps, even to affluence in his adopted country ; and, with his 
 thoughts in such a channel as this, it was not probable that a 
 trivial or imaginary danger should deter him from an enter 
 prise in which much might be gained ; while, on the contrary, 
 nothing could be lost, but that which he had long ceased to 
 value at an extravagant price, an unhappy life. The last stroke 
 of the appointed hour was still ringing in the air, when the 
 tall soldier stood alone at the trysting place ; his dress was in 
 nowise altered, save by the addition of a large cloak of dark 
 materials, worn evidently for concealment, rather than for 
 warmth ; but, fearless as he was, he yet had taken the precau 
 tion of furnishing his belt with a pair of smaller pistols then re 
 cently introduced. Not long did he remain alone, for scarcely 
 had he reached the spot where his mysterious guide had left 
 him, ere he again joined him from the self-same shrubbery 
 wherein he had then disappeared. Without a moment s delay, 
 the messenger led him forward, with a whispered caution to 
 say nothing, whosoever he might see ; after a few minutes 
 walking, he reached a portal in a high and richly ornamented 
 wall, and knocked lightly on the door, which was instantly un 
 latched by a sentinel whom, at first sight, the Scotsman knew 
 for one of the chosen guards who waited round the person of 
 
THE ROYAL INTERVIEW. 285 
 
 the sovereign. Sheathed in armor richly inlaid with gold, his 
 harquebus, with its match kindled, on his arm, it would have 
 been impossible to pass the guard without a struggle, which 
 must have alarmed a bbdy of his comrades who lay wrapped 
 in their long mantles on the pavement, or played at games of 
 chance by the pale glimmer of a single lamp ; a ring, as it ap 
 peared to the silent but watchful Scot, was exhibited, and the 
 mercenary threw his weapon forward in a low salute, and mo 
 tioned them in silence to proceed. In the deepest gloom they 
 passed through court and corridor ; uninterrupted by the nu 
 merous sentinels whom they encountered, ascended winding 
 staircases ; and, without meeting a single usher or attendant 
 in apartments of almost oriental splendor, paused at a tapestried 
 door, which opened from the wall of a v long gallery so secretly 
 that it must have escaped the eye of the most keen observer. 
 Here again the courtier touched, rather than struck, the panel 
 thrice at measured intervals, and a female voice of singular and 
 imperious depth, . commanded them to enter. The brilliant 
 glare of light which filled the small apartment had well-nigh 
 dazzled the bewildered stranger ; yet there was enough in the 
 commanding mien of Catharine, and the youthful king who 
 sat beside her, although no royal pomp was there, to tell him 
 that he Was in the presence of the mightiest, the most dreaded 
 sovereigns of Europe ; dropping his mantle, and his bonnet to 
 the floor, he bent his knee, and, instantly recovering his erect 
 carriage, stood reverent but unabashed. Tempering her stern 
 features with a smile of wonderful sweetness, and assuming 
 an air of easy condescension, which not her niece the lovely 
 Mary of Scotland could have worn with more becoming 
 grace, the queen addressed him : 
 
 " We have summoned to our presence, if we err not, one of 
 the truest and most faithful servants of our well-beloved niece 
 of Scotland. Although the queen of France has not yet recog- 
 
286 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 nised the person, believe not, sir, that Catharine de Medicis is 
 unacquainted with the merits of the sieur Hamilton." 
 
 Another inclination, and the color which mounted to his 
 very brow at this most flattering, though private testimony, 
 testified his respect and gratitude ; yet as the speech of Cath 
 arine needed no reply, though inwardly marvelling to what all 
 this might tend, the knight of Bothwelhaugh, for he it was who 
 stood in that high presence, saw no cause for breaking silence. 
 
 " Speak, sir," pursued the queen ; " have we been misin 
 formed, or do we see before us the most unswerving, and the 
 latest follower of the injured Mary ? 
 
 " So please your grace," was Hamilton s reply ; " so long as 
 sword was drawn, or charger spurred in my unhappy mistress 
 cause, so long was I in the field ! but how I can lay claim to 
 praise as being the last, or truest of her followers, I know not. 
 Hundreds fell at the red field of Langside, as brave and better 
 warriors than I ; scores have since sealed their faith in blood 
 upon the scaffold, and thousands of true hearts yet beat in 
 Scotland ; more faithful never thrilled to the trumpet s sound ; 
 thousands that followed her, and fought for her, that watched, 
 and fasted, and bled for her." 
 
 " But that failed to avenge her," interrupted Catharine ; and 
 for years afterward did those words ring in the soldier s ears 
 with unforgotten fearfulness ; for never had he deemed such 
 fiendish sounds of exultation could proceed from human lips, 
 much less from woman s. " Art not thou the slayer of the 
 base-born slave, that was the master-spirit of her enemies ? 
 Art not thou he whose name shall go down to posterity with 
 those of David, and of Jael, and of Judith, and of all those who 
 have smitten the persecutors of the church of God ? Art thou 
 not he whom princes shall delight to honor, whom the Holy 
 Father of our faith himself hast pronounced blessed ? Art not 
 thou the avenger of Mary, the killer of the heretic Murray ?" 
 
ROYAL FAVORS. 287 
 
 " Soh ! sits the wind there," thought the astonished Hamil 
 ton, as he coolly replied: "He was the enemy of my royal, 
 my most unhappy mistress, and for that I warred with him a 
 Voutrance! the persecutor of the faithful, and for that I 
 cursed him ! the murderer of my wife, and for that, and that 
 alone, I slew him." 
 
 " Well didst thou do, and faithfully !" cried the queen ; 
 " adherents such as thee it is the pleasure, no less than the 
 pride, of the. house of Guise to honor and reward." 
 
 " Sieur of Hamilton," continued Charles, apt pupil of his 
 demonical guardian, " earthly honors are but vain rewards to 
 men like thee ! Yet wear this sword as a token of gratitude 
 due from the king of France to the avenger of his cousin ; if 
 thou art inclined to wield it in the cause of him who offers it, 
 I hold a blank commission to a high office in our army the 
 command of our guard ! Shall I insert the name of Hamilton !" 
 
 " Honors like these, your majesty " he was commencing, 
 when he was again cut short by the queen. 
 
 " Are insufficient, we are well aware, when weighed against 
 thy merits. Accept them, notwithstanding, as an earnest of 
 greater gifts to come. Serve but the heads of the house of 
 Guise, as thou hast served its scions, and the truncheon of the 
 inarechal hereafter may be thine. No thanks, sir ! actions are 
 the only thanks that we require ! and now, farewell ! we will 
 speak further with our officer to morrow !" 
 
 Accustomed, long before, to the etiquette of courts, Hamil 
 ton received the gift tipon his knee, kissed the bright blade, 
 and with a profound inclination retreated without turning to 
 the door, bowed a second time even lower than before, and 
 left the presence ! Scarcely, however, had he made three 
 steps, ere he was recalled by the voice of Catharine herself. 
 " Ha ! now shall I know the price which I must pay for this 
 rich gewgaw ; methought such gilded baits must point to future 
 
288 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 service, rather than to past good offices ;" the half-formed 
 words died on his lips as the vivid thought flashed through his 
 brain, yet not a sound was heard ; he stood in calm attention 
 listening to the words of the tempter. 
 
 " We have bethought us, sir," said Catharine, in a low, 
 stern whisper, " we have bethought us of a service of most 
 high importance, wherewith it is our will that thou shouldst 
 commence thy duties, and that, too, with the dawn ! It has 
 something of danger ; but we know to whom we speak ! much 
 of honor, and therefore we rejoice in offering it to thee ! If 
 successful, to-morrow s eve shall see our champion marechal 
 of France. Dost thou accept the trust ?" 
 
 " Danger, so please your highness," replied the wary 
 soldier, "danger is the very soul of honor; and for honor alone 
 I live. What are the commands of your majesty ?" 
 
 Confident that her offer was understood and accepted, the 
 same hateful gleam of triumph flashed across her withered 
 features as before, and the same note of exultation marked her 
 words. "Thou knowest, doubtless, Caspar de Coligni the 
 admiral the heretic the sword and buckler of the accursed 
 Huguenots !" 
 
 " As a brave soldier, and a consummate leader, I do know 
 the man. Pity but he were faithful, as he is trusty and expe 
 rienced ! What is your grace s will concerning this De Co 
 ligni?" 
 
 " Qu il meurt !" 
 
 " Give me the means to bring the matter to an issue, and I 
 will do my devoir. But how may I find cause of quarrel with 
 one so high as Coligni ? Bring me to the admiral, and let 
 him take every advantage of place and arms, I pledge your 
 majesty my word, to-morrow night shall not find him among 
 the living." 
 
 " And thinkst thou," she replied with a bitter laugh, " thinkst 
 
A FALSE RECKONING. 289 
 
 thou we reck so little of a faithful servant s safety as to expose 
 him to a desperate conflict with a warrior such as him concern 
 ing whom we speak ? As Murray fell, so fall De Coligni !" 
 
 " Not by the hand of Hamilton," was the calm, but resolute 
 answer. " My life your majesty may command even as your 
 own ; I reck not of it! but mine honor is in mine own keep 
 ing ! Mine own private quarrel have I avenged, as best I 
 might ; but neither am I a mercenary stabber to slay men in 
 the dark, who have done me no wrong ; nor is a Scottish gen 
 tleman wont to take gold for blood-shedding. I fear me I have 
 misapprehended the terms on which I am to serve your grace ; 
 most gladly, and most gratefully, did I receive these tokens of 
 your majesty s approbation, as honors conferred for honorable 
 service in the field. If, however, they were given either as a 
 price for the blood of Murray, or as wages to be redeemed by 
 future murder, humbly, but at the same time firmly, do I de 
 cline your bounty !" 
 
 " Why, thou most scrupulous of cut-throats !" exclaimed 
 the youthful king, whose iron heart was utterly immovable by 
 any touch of merciful or honorable feeling. " Dost thou, thou 
 who didst mark thy man long months before the deed, didst 
 dog him to destruction as your own northern hound hangs on 
 the master-stag, didst butcher him at an unmanly vantage, 
 dost thou pretend to round high periods about honor ? Honor 
 in a common stabber! ha! ha! ha!" and he laughed deri 
 sively at his own false and disgraceful speech. 
 
 " It is because I am no common stabber," returned the noble 
 Scot, " that I refuse your wages, as I loath the office, and de 
 spise the character which you would fix upon a gentleman of 
 ancient family, and unblemished reputation ! My lord, I slew 
 yon base-born tyrant, even as I would slay your highness, 
 should you give me cause. Had he been mine inferior, a short 
 shrift, and a shorter cord, had paid the debt I owed him ! 
 
 13 
 
290 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 mine equal, the good sword that never failed its master, had 
 avenged her to whom alone that master s faith was plighted ! 
 He was, so word it if you will, my superior ! Superior not in 
 arms, or strength, or virtue ; not in the greatness of nature s 
 giving, but in craft, and policy, and all the pompous baubles 
 that make fools tremble ; one path was open to my vengeance, 
 and one only ! I took it ! I would have taken the arch-fiend 
 himself to be my counsellor, so he had promised vengeance ! 
 Show me the man that dares to injure Hamilton, and Ham 
 ilton will slay him : honorably, if it may be, and openly ; but, 
 in all cases, slay him. For this matter, sire, I have no license 
 from my country to commit murders here in France ; mine 
 own just quarrel I have avenged as best I might ; but not for 
 price, or prayer, will I avenge the guard of another, be that 
 other prince or peasant ! Farewell, your highness, and when 
 you next would buy men s blood, deal not with Scottish nobles ! 
 your grace has Spaniards and Italians enough round your per 
 son who will do your bidding, without imposing tasks on Scot 
 tish men, which it bents not them to execute, nor you to order ! 
 Has your grace any services to ask of Hamilton, which he 
 may perform with an unsullied hand, your word shall be his 
 law ! Till then, farewell !" 
 
 He laid the jewelled sword and the broad parchment on the 
 board, and with another inclination of respect, slowly and 
 steadily retreated. 
 
 Bethink thee, sir, cried the fierce queen, goaded almost 
 to madness by the disappointment, and by the taunts of the in 
 dignant warrior, not the less galling that they were veiled be 
 neath the thin garb of respect" bethink thee ! it is perilous, 
 even to a proverb, to be the repository of royal secrets ! how 
 know we but thou mayest sell thine information to De Co- 
 
 ligni 7" 
 
 In that I would not sell his blood to thee P was the stern 
 
PROSPECTIVE REVENGE. 291 
 
 answer. " If peril be incurred, twill not be the first time 
 peril and I have been acquainted nor yet, I deem, the last." 
 Without another syllable he strode from the presence-chamber, 
 with a louder step, and firmer port, than oft was heard or seen 
 in those accursed walls. The usher, who had introduced him, 
 deeming his sovereign s will completed, led him forth as he 
 had entered, in silence, and ere the guilty pair had roused 
 themselves from their astonishment, Hamilton was beyond the 
 precincts of the palace. An hour had scarcely passed before 
 the messenger was again summoned to wait the monarch s bid 
 ding. " De Crespigny," he said, " take three of the best 
 blades of our Italian guard, dog that audacious Scot, and, be 
 he at the board, or in the bed at the hearth, or in the sanctu 
 ary/ he paused, tapped the hilt of his poniard with a smile 
 of gloomy meaning, and waved his hand toward the door 
 " let his head be at my feet before to-morrow s dawn, or look 
 well to thine own ! Away !" 
 
292 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 But I have none. The king-becoming graces, 
 
 As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, 
 
 Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, 
 
 Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, 
 
 I have no relish of them; but abound 
 
 In the division of each several crime, 
 
 Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should 
 
 Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, 
 
 Uproar the universal peace, confound 
 
 All unity on earth. MACBETH, Act IV., Sc. 3. 
 
 THE morning of that fatal day had arrived, the horror and 
 atrocity of which may never be forgotten or forgiven, until the 
 records of humanity itself shall pass away. That day, which, 
 intended as it was by the infernal policy of France to strike a 
 death-blow to the reformed religion throughout the world, did 
 more to unite, to strengthen, and finally to establish the ascen 
 dency of that religion, than could have been established by 
 the arms of its champions, or the arguments of its professors, 
 in centuries of unopposed prosperity ; as though the fiend who 
 suggested the counsel had deserted his pupils in very derision 
 of their blind iniquity. Nor in truth was the hallucination of 
 the confiding Huguenots less unaccountable than the unearthly 
 wickedness of their opponents. It would seem that their eyes 
 had been so completely sealed up, and their suspicions so 
 obliterated by the marriage of the youthful monarch of Navarre 
 with the sister of the faithless Charles, that no proof, however 
 flagrant, of the meditated treason could awake them from their 
 slumbers. Nor, when De Coligni was well-nigh assassinated 
 
THE FIRST ACT. 293 
 
 by the aim of an enemy,* less scrupulous than the knight of 
 Bothwelhaugh, could they be aroused, either by the crime it 
 self, or by the eloquence which it called forth from the Vidame 
 of Chartres, to see in this attempt " the first act of an hideous 
 tragedy. "f Never were the extraordinary talents of the queen- 
 mother more evident, or more successful, than in the series of 
 intrigues, by which the protestant leaders were amused, until 
 the scheme for their destruction was matured ; and it is most 
 remarkable that the very measures by which she lulled their 
 fears to rest, were those which laid them most completely at 
 the mercy of their persecutors. It was recommended by 
 Charles that the principal gentlemen of the party should take 
 up their quarters around the lodging of the wounded admiral, 
 avowedly that they might be ever at hand to protect him from 
 the machinations of his foes, but in truth that being thus col 
 lected into one body they might be butchered at ease without 
 a hope of resistance, or a possibility of escape. A guard of 
 honor was appointed from the mus.queteers of the royal house 
 hold to watch over the safety of De Coligni, but this very guard 
 was under the command of Cosseins, his most deadly enemy ; 
 and lastly, with unparalleled baseness, Charles and his fiendish 
 mother actually paid a visit of condolence at the bedside of 
 the man, whom they had doomed to a miserable and disgrace 
 ful end. 
 
 All was at length prepared ; the duke of Guise selected, as 
 
 * Louviers-Maurevel, who, having been educated as a page in the 
 family of Guise, had early given indications of an evil disposition, had 
 rendered himself infamously notorious by the murder of a courtier in re 
 venge for some trivial punishment, and by that of the noble Mouy, < 
 governor of Niort, at the instigation, and for the wages of the catholic 
 leaders. In consequence of this latter feat he was again employed by 
 the same family to shoot the celebrated admiral, which deed he, however, 
 failed to accomplish. Mezeray, xi., 119, 209. 
 
 f Mezeray, xi. 219. 
 
294 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHATJGH. 
 
 the chief most fitted for the conduct of the massacre ; the cap 
 tains of the Swiss companies and the Italian condottieri were 
 harangued and loaded with reward ; the dizeniers of the burgher 
 guards were privately instructed to arm their men in all 
 quarters of the city, to assume, as distinctive ensigns, a white 
 cross in their hats, and white scarfs on their arms, to kindle 
 flambeaux in every window, and when the palace-clock should 
 sound, as it was wont to do, at break of day to fall on and 
 leave no Huguenot alive within the walls of Paris. Nor was 
 this all ; in every town throughout the. realm, like orders had 
 been despatched by certain hands to all the catholic governors, 
 so tfiat the striking of that bell in the metropolis, should be 
 repeated from every tower in France at the same hour, a signal 
 for simultaneous massacre, a knell for thousands and tens of 
 thousands of her bravest and her best. One circumstance, 
 however, had occurred, which in no slight degree embarrassed 
 the proceedings of the royal executioners, and it needed all 
 the influence of Catharine to hold her weaker, yet no less 
 wicked, son firm to his resolution. 
 
 The, whole day succeeding to their interview with Hamilton 
 had been spent by that bad pair in expectation amounting 
 almost to agony. In obedience to the mandate of his master, 
 De Crespigny had departed with three ruffians of the guard, to 
 seal the tongue of Bothwelhaugh for ever. The gates of Paris 
 had been closed, and the escape of the victim seemed impos 
 sible, nor could it be imagined for a moment that one unsup 
 ported foreigner could successfully resist the arms of four 
 assailants selected for their skill, no less than for their ferocity. 
 Still, hour after hour crept along, and no tidings arrived of the 
 success or failure of the enterprise, till on the very morning 
 of the intended massacre, the stiff and mangled corpses of all 
 the four were discovered among the shrubbery of the royal 
 gardens, bearing fearful marks, on head and trunk, of the tre- 
 
FRUSTRATED VENGEANCE. 295 
 
 mendous weapon which hd*d laid them low. That they had 
 perished by the hand of Hamilton was evident, but to the 
 means by which one man had defeated and slain four antago 
 nists, each at the least his equal in strength, no clew could be 
 discovered ; nor could the most diligent inq^ries throw any 
 light upon the subsequent movements or the present residence 
 of the victor. Indeed from the moment of his dismissal from 
 the king s apartment, no one appeared to have seen or heard 
 aught of an individual far too remarkable both in personal ap 
 pearance and in dress to have passed unnoticed amid the idlers 
 of the metropolis. It was, nevertheless, certain from the de 
 meanor of De Coligni, and of his unsuspecting friends, that, 
 hitherto at least, no discovery of their meditated destruction had 
 occurred ; and although probable that the indignant Scot, on 
 finding himself singled out for death by his frustrated employ 
 ers, should have revealed the whole conspiracy, it was yet 
 possible that the same high-minded, though mistaken spirit, 
 which had urged him to avenge himself on his own personal 
 oppressor, while neither fear nor favor could induce him to 
 play the hireling stabber s part, might .now prevail on him to 
 conceal that villany, however he might^bhor and shrink from 
 its fulfilment, which had been imparted to him beneath the seal 
 of private confidence. 
 
 The night drew nigh, and with the darkness of the heavens 
 a heavier gloom fell on the spirit of the king ; an eager, fret 
 ful restlessness took place of his unwonted dignity his eyes 
 glared from their hollow sockets with a wild expression of 
 misery, and the changing flush which now crimsoned his fea 
 tures, now left them as sallow as the lineaments of a corpse, 
 gave awful tokens of a perturbed soul. Not an instant did he 
 remain at rest, one moment flinging himself violently on a seat, 
 then striding with unequal and agitated steps across the floor, 
 like the chafed hyena in its den. Now swearing the annihi- 
 
296 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 lation of the Huguenots with feafful blasphemies, now accu 
 sing his advisers, and even his dreaded mother herself of im 
 pious superstition and remorseless frenzy. " It is ye," he 
 said, " who have driven me to this abyss of guilt ! It is ye 
 who reap the profits of the sin! but it is I, miserable // that 
 shall be blasted through endless ages by the hatred of men, 
 and perhaps by the wrath of God ;" and he sunk in an agony 
 of tears upon the couch, which rocked beneath the violence 
 of his convulsive anguish. 
 
 " Go to !" cried Catharine with undissembled rage " Go to ! 
 thou coward-boy, talk not to me of conscience and condemna 
 tion ! Thinkest thou to hide from me who have watched it 
 from your earliest years, the secrets of that craven heart. Tis 
 not the wrath of God tis riot the hatred of posterity that 
 thou dost fear. Say rather that thou dost tremble at the de 
 spair of thine enemies, that thou dost shrink in terror base 
 terror! from one weak, aged, wounded mortal! Out, out 
 upon thee, for a miserable dastard ! Nay, rather out upon my 
 self, that I have borne a coward to the house of Medicis ! 
 
 " Darest thou," shouted the boy, springing from his seat, 
 and confronting her with equal fury "darest thou say this to 
 me?" 
 
 " All men will dare do so," she answered scornfully. " All 
 men ! God s-head, all women, will dare to call thee coward ! 
 will, pray to the saints, in their extremity, that they may give 
 birth to idiots, monsters, anything but such as thee !" 
 
 " Mother," he cried, gnashing his teeth with rage, and play 
 ing with his poniard s hilt, " peace ! peace ! or by Him who 
 made me, you shall rue this hour. Tremble !" 
 
 " Coward ! poltroon ! wouldst thou bare thy weapon on a 
 woman and that woman, one who fears it less than thee ! 
 which for thy life thou durst not handle in the presence of De 
 Coligni. Tremble? thinkest thou that I could tremble, if I 
 
THE ROYAL CONCLAVE. 297 
 
 would ; thinkest thou that I, the destined champion of the Faith 
 that I, the savior of the holy Church I, who was preor 
 dained, before mine eyes beheld the day, to quench the light 
 of heresy in blood that I, who^ if thou darest to hesitate, 
 will take the guidance of this matter on myself, and win that 
 glory here, that immortality hereafter, the brilliancy of which 
 is more resplendent than thy dazzled eyes can bear to look 
 upon, thy vacillating mind to comprehend that / know how 
 to tremble !" 
 
 Her vehemence prevailed ! The current of his thoughts was 
 directed into another channel, and it was now with no small dif 
 ficulty that she prevailed on him to await the result of the execu 
 tions in the galleries of the Louvre, rather than to sheath him 
 self in steel, and sally forth at the head of the murderers, to prove 
 his valor, and to glut his newly-awakened thirst for blood! 
 Yet, though she had thus confidently spoken of the glory, and 
 the undoubted success of the conspiracy, in her own secret 
 soul she shuddered! not with fear, not with remorse, but 
 with devouring care, with all-engrossing agitation. Every 
 trivial sound that echoed through the royal corridors, every 
 distant peal of voices from the street, even the stealthy footstep of 
 the attendant-courtiers, or the sudden shutting of a door, struck 
 on her guilty ear with a power hardly exceeded by that of the 
 most appalling thunder. The glittering board was spread, the 
 choicest viands served in vessels of gold, the richest vintages 
 of Auxerre and Champaigne, flowers, and fruits, and perfumes, 
 all that could tempt the eye, or minister to the gratification of 
 the senses, were set before the royal conclave. The goblets 
 were filled and drained, the jest passed round, and smiles, 
 human smiles, illuminated the features of those, who were 
 plotting deeds worthy the arch-fiend himself. The boy-king 
 and his brother, half-maddened by the excitement of suspense, 
 the delirium of meditated guilt, and the fiercer stimulus of 
 
 13* 
 
298 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 wine, could scarce refrain from bursting into open fury; while 
 their craftier parent, even as she yielded to the intoxication of 
 the moment, never for an instant forgot the dreadful responsi 
 bility which claimed the fullest exercise of her keen energies ; 
 and, although she lent herself entirely to the accomplishment 
 of her present object the winding up of her son s vacillating 
 courage to its utmost pitch she had yet an ear for every re 
 mote murmur, an eye for every varying expression that might 
 flit across the brow of page or chamberlain ; an almost 
 superhuman readiness of mind that would have defied the most 
 critical emergency to find it unprovided with some apt ex 
 pedient. 
 
 Stroke after stroke the heavy bells rang midnight, and it 
 seemed, to each of those excited minds, as though an age 
 elapsed between each fast-repeated clang. Another hour had 
 yet its course to run, before those matins, whose name shall 
 never be spoken without abhorrence, while the world endures, 
 should sound the condemnation of a people. Another hour 
 had yet to creep, or to career above their heads, before ten 
 thousand sleepers should be awakened never to sleep gain ! 
 The flowers had lost their fragrance the wine palled on 
 their deadened palates the lights, reflected by a hundred 
 plates of crystal, seemed but to render darkness visible. Yet 
 who could calmly sit and count the minutes that were to mar- 
 shall in that morning of indiscriminate slaughter, who could 
 endure to listen to the monotonous ticking of that clock, the 
 earliest chimes of which were to be answered by the groans 
 of dying myriads ?" 
 
 " Come !" at length exclaimed the callous mother, " it is 
 tedious tarrying here. It will be better in the tennis-court 
 than here ! Thence we can mark the progress of the execu 
 tion !" and rising from her seat, she led the way, her features 
 dressed in smiles, and her eyes beaming with exultation, to 
 
THE TENNIS-COURT. 299 
 
 the hall of exercise. Few moments had elapsed before the 
 clatter of the rackets, the lively bouncing of the balls, and the 
 loud voices of the antagonists, announced that heart and spirit 
 were engrossed in the excitement of the game. Oaths, shouts 
 of laughter, proffered bets, and notes of sportive triumph, rang 
 from the tongues, that, scarce an hour ago, had decided on the 
 doom of the unsuspecting innocents ; and that, before another 
 should arrive, would lend their tones to swell the fearful cry 
 of "Kill! kill!" "Death to the Huguenots !" " Kill and 
 spare not !" 
 
 The noble gallery, which had been fitted, according to the 
 fashion of the day, for the game of tennis, overlooked, with its 
 tall netted casements, the principal street of Paris, even at that 
 early age a wide and beautiful parade. The cool breeze from the 
 river swept refreshingly around their feverish brows, but waft 
 ed not a sound to their ears : although they well knew that the 
 guards must be already at their posts, crouching like tigers, 
 that their spring might be unerringly destructive. Tranquil, 
 however, as it appeared, the city glowed with almost noonday 
 light, for every window was illuminated with row above row 
 of flashing torches, and, at every angle of the streets, huge 
 lanterns swayed to and fro in the fresh currents of the night- 
 wind. It was a beautiful scene, but at the same time one 
 whose beauty was of a painful and unnatural cast ; every 
 joint and moulding of the walls, nay, every crevice of the 
 pavements, was defined, as clearly as the outlines of a Flem 
 ish picture ; yet it seemed as if this unaccustomed splendor 
 had been produced by some enchantment, and to meet no mor 
 tal end ; for not a human being was to be seen throughout the 
 whole perspective not a houseless dog intruded on this 
 strange solitude. At an earlier period of the night all had 
 been dark and gloomy, even before the hum of traffic, or of 
 pleasure, had entirely subsided ; but now, when every place 
 
300 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 was silent and deserted, unseen hands had steeped the vast 
 metropolis in lustre, to be witnessed by no admiring multitudes. 
 Long and wistfully did Catharine gaze upon that spectacle, 
 straining her senses, sharpened as they were by the most 
 fearful expectation, to catch whatever indication, sight, or 
 sound, might offer to the success of the conspiracy. At length, 
 as she listened, Charles whose care-worn eye wandered 
 ever and anon from his deep gaming to his mother s counte 
 nance saw by the momentary shudder that thrilled her 
 stately form, and by the rigid tension of her features, that the 
 moment was at hand and so in truth it was ! Even when 
 that tremor quivered through her limbs, the hammer hung sus 
 pended above the tocsin-bell. She had beheld no vision 
 she had heard no murmur to announce the hour yet she 
 knew she felt that, ere the breath which she was then in 
 haling, should go forth, the matin peal would sound. And it 
 did sound! Heavily did the first clang of St. Germain s a 
 1 Auxerre strike on their bursting hearts, but ere its ringing 
 cadences had died away, another, and another, and another, 
 took up the signal ; till at every pause between their deafening 
 clamor, the chimes of a hundred tocsins might be heard los 
 ing themselves in undistinguished distance ! A single shot 
 broke through the din of bells ; with its sharp report a strag 
 gling volley followed a long, clear, female shriek and then 
 the brutal riot of the savage soldiery, the shivering clash of 
 steel, groans, prayers, and execrations, were blent in one ter 
 rific roar ! If ever earthly scene might be assimilated justly 
 to the abode of condemned sinners, and tormenting friends, 
 Paris was such on that infernal morning. No ! it is not pro 
 fanity to say or to believe that disembodied demons exulted in 
 their prison-houses, if they were not permitted to revel in the 
 actual contemplation of Christian men converted into worse 
 
MASSACRE OF THE HUGUENOTS. 301 
 
 than pagan persecutors of the brightest city of Christendom 
 presenting the appalling aspect of a universal hell ! 
 
 " It is done," cried Catharine, clapping her hands in furious 
 triumph "the Lord hath arisen and his enemies are scat 
 tered !" 
 
 " I am at length a king !" exclaimed the boy, whose fears 
 were swallowed up in ecstacy at the accomplishment of all his 
 machinations "Brave Guise! noble Cosseins ! Happy the 
 monarch who can trust to servants, such as ye !" 
 
 Before the words had passed his lips, a louder, and a nearer, 
 burst of mingled cries showed that the tide of carnage set to 
 ward the palace. Hurling his racket to the further end of the 
 long hall, he sprang to his mother s side, and, as he viewed the 
 massacre of his confiding subjects, tossed his arms aloft with 
 an expression of eye and lip that might have well beseemed a 
 Nero. First, a few scattered wretches rushed singly, or in groups, 
 along the lighted streets ; mothers and maids stern men with 
 dauntless hearts and scar-seamed brows old grandsires with 
 their feeble limbs and locks of snow and infants tottering 
 along in helpless terror ! Then with a sound like that of the 
 spring-tide, the thoroughfare was choked by thousands, frantic 
 with despair, hurrying, they knew not whither, like sheep be 
 fore their slaughterers. Behind them flashed the bloody 
 sword of Guise and his relentless satellites ; before, the gates 
 were closed ; above, around, on every side, from every roof, 
 and every window of the illuminated dwellings, the volleyed 
 shot hurled them in masses to destruction. 
 
 "Quick! quick! my harquebuss !" yelled the impatient 
 Charles, maddened by the sight of blood, and thirsting like the 
 fleshed wolf for his peculiar share. " Kill ! kill !" he shouted 
 in yet loftier tones, as the unsparing duke dashed forward, 
 crimsoned from spur to plume with Christian blood, animating 
 the fanatic Italians of the guard and aiding the work of slaugh- 
 
302 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 ter, with his own polluted weapon " Kill ! kill ! gallant de 
 Guise ! kill ! and let none escape." 
 
 Before the windows of the Louvre was a narrow court, 
 fenced from the street by a tall palisade of ornamented iron 
 work ; hither, in the first impulse of their terrors, had a herd 
 of wretches fled, as it were to a sanctuary in the immediate 
 presence of their king ; and here were they confined between 
 the massive portals of the palace, and the noble thoroughfare 
 now crowded even to suffocation by an unresisting multitude, 
 through which the sword was slowly but implacably hewing 
 itself a passage. Protected by the fretted railings from their 
 foes without, they had vainly flattered themselves that they 
 were secured from immediate violence, and trusted to the prov-. 
 erb, which has but too frequently been found fallacious 
 that "a king s face, gives grace!" what then must have 
 been their agony when they beheld that very countenance, to 
 which they looked for mercy, glaring along the levelled match 
 lock, and felt their miserable bodies pierced by the shot at 
 each discharge, and by the hand of their legitimate protector. 
 
 On that tremendous night, Hamilton, like a thousand others, 
 was startled from sleep, in his secluded lodging, by the roar 
 of musketry, and by the howls of the infuriate murderers ; but, 
 unlike the rest, be recognised at once the sequel of that relent 
 less policy, to which he had himself refused to minister. Du 
 ring the very night, on which he had been admitted to the 
 royal presence, on his return homeward through the gardens 
 of the Louvre, he had been assaulted by the assassins, whom, 
 from their garb and arms he at once distinguished as the agents 
 of the king ; by a pretended flight he had succeeded in avoid 
 ing their united force, and, singly overpowering each, had 
 escaped uninjured to his dwelling. Conscious that he was 
 singled out by a power, which it would be no easy matter to 
 elude, and deeming that some political convulsion was at hand, 
 
PROMISCUOUS SLAUGHTER. 303 
 
 he had kept himself in total retirement, till the hue and cry 
 should have blown over, and till some opportunity might offer 
 for his effecting a retreat from France. 
 
 Springing from his couch at the first sounds of the massacre, 
 he perceived at a glance that all the neighboring casements 
 were lighted up as if for some high festival, nor could he for a 
 moment doubt but that to be discovered unprepared would be a 
 signal for his instant death. Few moments sufficed to kindle 
 such a blaze as would vouch for his privity to whatever plot 
 might be on foot, to prepare his weapons for the crisis, and to 
 arm himself from head to heel. Ere long the tumult thickened, 
 the same tragedy was enacted before his humble doors, that 
 was polluting even then the threshold of the royal residence. 
 A few shots from his window, harmlessly aimed above the 
 heads of the poor fugitives, procured him at once the character 
 of a zealous partisan ; when, binding the badge of white upon 
 his arm which he had remarked with his accustomed keen 
 ness and fixing in his burnished morion the silver cross of 
 his loved country, he descended, resolutely plunging through 
 the abhorred carnage, in the hope of extricating himself, amid 
 the general havoc, from the guilty city. 
 
 Though by no means elevated in all his thoughts above the 
 prejudices of the age, and though himself a zealous adherent 
 of the Romish church, his noble soul revolted from a scene so 
 barbarous, and, as he saw at once, so horribly gratuitous. Had 
 the destruction been confined to the leaders of the Huguenot 
 party, nay, even to the whole of its armed supporters, it is 
 possible that his ideas might not have soared beyond the spirit 
 of his times ; but when he saw children unable yet to lisp 
 their earliest words, girls in the flush of virgin loveliness, and 
 youthful mothers with their infants at their bosom, hewn down 
 and trampled to the earth, he shrank with inward loathing from 
 such promiscuous slaughter, and hardly could he refrain from 
 
304 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 starting to the rescue. Nurtured, however, as he had been, in 
 a rude and iron country, educated in a school of warfare, in 
 ured, from his youth upward, to sights of blood, and, above all 
 things, tutored by sad experience, in that most arduous lesson, 
 to keep the feelings ever in subjection to the reason, he had 
 less difficulty in resisting his desire to strike a blow in behalf 
 of helpless innocence, than we, at this enlightened period, can 
 imagine ; and thus, occasionally lending his deep voice to 
 swell the clamor which he hated, he strode along amid the 
 host of persecutors, collecting, as best he might, from the dis 
 jointed exclamations of the mob, such information as might 
 serve to extricate him from the wide charnel-house of Paris. 
 Armed, from head to heel, in complete panoply, his unusual 
 proportions, and lofty port, joined to the stern authority which 
 sat upon his brow, caused him to be regarded in the light of a 
 chieftain, among the Romish partisans. It was not, therefore, 
 long before he ascertained that two of the city-gates had pur 
 posely been left unbarred, though circled by a chosen band of 
 Switzers, and Italian mercenaries ; and if he could succeed in 
 making his way unscathed to either of these, he doubted not 
 bnt he should be able to pass, by means of his assumed impor 
 tance ; and, once at large, he was resolved to make no pause 
 until he should have crossed the sea. One difficulty alone 
 presented itself it would be necessary that he should traverse 
 the esplanade before the windows of the Louvre, and beneath 
 the very eyes of the perfidious Charles ; who, if he should 
 recognise the person of the haughty Scot, would, beyond a 
 doubt, avenge the slight which had been offered to his royal 
 will. Still it was his sole chance of escape ; and, when life 
 is at stake, there is no probability, however slender, to which 
 men will not cling in their extremity. 
 
 Boldly, but at the same time cautiously, did Hamilton pro 
 ceed, stifling his indignation at a thousand sights, which made 
 
EPICURES IN BUTCHERY. 305 
 
 his heart s blood curdle, with necessary resolution, nor daring 
 to extend an arm to protect the miserable beings who clung 
 around his knees, wrestling with their cold-blooded murderers, 
 and shrieking, in their great agony, for Life ! life ! for the 
 love of God !" Once, as with ill-dissembled fury, he headed 
 a band of more than common ferocity, a lovely female her 
 slender garments torn from her limbs by the rude soldiery, her 
 long, fair tresses dabbled in the blood which -gushed from 
 twenty wounds thrust her helpless babe into his arms, be 
 seeching him with anguish, such as none but mothers feel 
 " If he had ever loved a woman, to save her little one ! Even 
 as she spoke, a dark-browed Spaniard struck his stiletto into 
 her bosom, and she fell, still shrieking as she lay beneath the 
 trampling feet "Save! for God s love! save my wretched 
 child !" The monster who had felled the parent, drove the 
 bloody weapon into the throat of the infant, and whirling the 
 little corpse around his head, shouted the accursed war-cry 
 "Death! death! to the Huguenots!" It was fortunate for 
 the noble Scott, that as he turned, the hot blood boiling to his 
 brow with rage, to avenge the crime, an ill-directed shot from" 
 a neighboring casement, took place in the Spaniard s forehead, 
 and, with a mingled yell of agony and triumph, he plunged 
 headlong forward upon the bodies of his victims, a dead man, 
 ere he touched the pavement. His whole soul sickening at 
 the fiendish outrage, Hamilton could barely nerve himself to 
 go another step, in such companionship ; but, although he did 
 not move a limb, the pressure of the concourse bore him on 
 ward, till almost unconsciously he found himself a witness to 
 the scenes enacted in the court-yard of the palace. 
 
 The area of the promenade had, by this time, been cleared 
 of living occupants through means too surely indicated by the 
 piles of gory carcasses heaped up on every side. The men, 
 tired of unresisting butchery, leaned listlessly on their tall 
 
306 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 lances, unless some keener stimulus urged them to fresh ex 
 ertions ; they had become epicures, as it were, in cruelty, and 
 rarely moved from their positions, unless to commit some 
 deed of blacker and more damnable atrocity. The king still 
 kept his station, at the window of the tennis-court, and ever 
 and anon, the bright flash of his harquebuss announced that he 
 still found gratification in wanton bloodshed. 
 
 The unfortunate wretches who had rushed into tjie toils, 
 while seeking for a refuge, had, for the most part, fallen vic 
 tims to his deadly aim ; but a few, smarting with unnumbered 
 wounds, and rendered sullen by despair, crouched in a corner 
 of the small enclosure, seemingly unwilling to meet their fate, 
 otherwise than in company ; till, pricked and goaded up by 
 the pike of the condottieri, they were compelled to run the 
 gauntlet, foaming at the mouth, like over-driven oxen, and 
 staggering like men in the last stage of drunkenness. The 
 red spot glowed upon the front of Bothwelhaugh, as he beheld 
 the savage pastime ; for many hours his choler had been ac 
 cumulating, and it was now fast verging to the point, at which 
 it must find vent, or suffocate him. He saw a fair child borne 
 in the arms of a brawny butcher of the suburbs, smiling up 
 into the face and twining its tiny fingers among the clotted 
 mustaches of its unmoved tormentor; he saw it torn from 
 its hold, impaled upon a lance, and held aloft, a target for the 
 monarch s practice. He saw De Guise, the arch-mover of the 
 mischief, descend from his charger, and coolly wipe the vis 
 age of the slaughtered Coligni, with his own kerchief, to as 
 certain the identity of the lifeless clay. He saw a band of 
 little children, dragging an infant Huguenot along, laughing 
 and crowing at its youthful executioners, to plunge the cradled 
 babe in the dark eddies of the Seine. He felt that he could 
 endure this no longer he felt that he must proclaim his 
 hatred and abhorrence, or expire in the effort of repressing 
 
THE RECOGNITION. 307 
 
 them; and all that he now desired, was an opportunity of dy 
 ing with eclat, and of involving in his own destruction the 
 author of so many horrors. At the very moment when these 
 fiery thoughts were working in his brain, an object met his 
 eye, which, by recalling associations of a time and place far 
 distant, roused him at once to open fury. A mother bearing 
 her lifeless child along, hopelessly and irretrievably frantic ! 
 Regardless of the wound which had been inflicted on her ten 
 der frame fearless of the pursuers, who hunted her with 
 brandished blades she dandled the clay-cold body in the air, 
 or hushed it in her bleeding bosom, humming wild fragments, 
 which her memory yet retained, from melodies of happier 
 days. At once the snow-storm on the banks of Esk, his own 
 beloved bride, frenzied and perishing beside the first-born 
 pledge of her affections, rushed instantaneously upon his mind. 
 " Accursed butchers, hold !" he shouted in a voice of thunder, 
 and, ere they could obey his bidding, the foremost fell, precip 
 itated by the swiftness of his previous motion, ten feet in front 
 of his intended victim ; and a second, and a third staggered 
 away from his tremendous blows mortally wounded, while the 
 rest struck with astonishment at seeing one, whom they, till 
 now, had followed as a champion in their cause, stand forth in 
 the defence of a proscribed heretic faltered, and skulked aside 
 like rated hounds. 
 
 Ere he had time to reflect on the consequences of his rash 
 ness, a well-remembered voice thrilled in his ear, " Tis he!" 
 No more was spoken ; but in that brief sentence, he had heard 
 and recognised his doom. Turning toward the palace-front, 
 he marked the form of Catharine, leaning from the window ; 
 and pointing, in all the eagerness of hatred, her extended arm 
 to his own person ; behind her, he could just distinguish the 
 sallow features of the king, reaching his hand to grasp the 
 matchlock, which a courtier loaded at his elbow. " I shall 
 
308 HAMILTON OF BOTHWELHAUGH. 
 
 die !" muttered the undaunted Scot, " but unavenged, never !" 
 A petronel was in his hand the muzzle bore fully on the 
 majestic figure of the queen, his finger pressed the trigger 
 he paused, stood like a statue carved in marble, his weapon 
 still directed to the mark, and that falcon glance, which never 
 yet had missed its aim, fixed steadfastly upon its object ! He 
 saw the carabine of the tyrant rise slowly to its level, yet he 
 fired not ! The person of Charles was screened by the in 
 tervention of his mother s breast. "Devil!" he shouted 
 " devil that thou art exult in thine impunity ! No Hamilton 
 hath ever harmed a woman !" The carabine was discharged, 
 but no motion of the Scot showed what had been the event ! 
 The brow was still serene, the arm extended, and the eyeball 
 calm as ever ! The hand rose higher, till the pistol pointed 
 perpendicularly upward the report rang clearly into the air 
 and ere the echoes passed away, the gallant, but misguided 
 soldier lay a corpse upon the bloody pavement cut off him 
 self, as he had slain the oppressor, by the bullet of a con 
 cealed assassin. Such are the ways of Providence. 
 
AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG; 
 
 <Dr, tjj? 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ALONG the whole north shore of Lake Huron, extending 
 over not much less than five degrees of latitude from north to 
 south, and varying from forty to one hundred miles in width, 
 there lies a vast expanse of navigable water, known as the 
 Georgian bay ; the shores of which to this hour are almost 
 untrodden, except by the moccasined foot of the red man, and 
 the surface of which is almost unfurrowed by the keel of mod 
 ern adventure. 
 
 Divided by a long promontory, the precipitous cape of which 
 has taken its name of Cabot s head from a huge projecting 
 bowlder on its summit, and by the extended and almost con 
 tinuous chain of the Manitoulin islands, from the main lake, the 
 Georgian bay, from its size, its depth, the great rivers which 
 it receives, and the unnumbered harbors of refuge with which 
 its iron-bound coasts are indented, deserves rather to be re 
 garded as in itself a lake, than merely as a portion of the 
 gigantic Huron. 
 
310 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENO. 
 
 Yet, in spite of its magnificent extent, the unrivalled purity 
 of its deep, dark blue, yet wondrously transparent waters, the 
 wild magnificence of its iron scenery, I know nothing so 
 lonely, nothing which impresses the mind of the voyager with 
 so utter a sense of solitariness, as a sail on its unfrequented 
 bosom. 
 
 For days for days you may steam or sail right on 
 ward, with the mainland, or the thousand islands, ever in 
 view, yet not a sail, not the bark of an Indian, not the smoke 
 of a wigwam shall vary the desolate sublimity of the scene ; 
 unless you leave the direct course, to visit some one of the 
 Indian villages or the miners stations, which of late are be 
 ginning to grow up along the northern shore. 
 
 Only three vessels, to this day, cross the waters of the Geor 
 gian bay ; one a small schooner employed for the supply of 
 the Bruce mines ; the second, a clever little steamer, the Gore, 
 plying between Penetanguishine, whence there is an easy 
 portage to Toronto and the Sault St. Marie ; and the third, the 
 Mohawk man-of-war steamer, whose summer cruising-ground 
 embraces all the upper lakes from the great Falls of Niagara to 
 the lovely rapids of the Sault St. Marie. The great line of 
 western travel, lying along the southern and western shores 
 which are visited daily, I had almost said hourly during the 
 summer months, by steamers of most luxurious accommodation, 
 and sailing craft of every rig and almost every burthen, leaves 
 the stormy and rock-bound expanse of the Georgian bay far 
 aloof; and few are the visitors who have seen its wondrous beau 
 ties, or penetrated into the mysteries of rock, wilderness, and 
 river, cataract, rapid, swamp, and rice lake, which diversify 
 its northern shore with an endless labyrinth of most romantic 
 beauty. 
 
 Neither the highlands of the Hudson, nor the thousand isles 
 of the far-famed St. Lawrence, have to me the charm of the 
 
LAKE HURON. 311 
 
 wild, solitary, silent grandeur of the Huron. Waters so clear, 
 that you can mark each prominence or cranny of the granite 
 rock, number each long and sinuous blade of the watergrass, 
 count every fish that wags a fin, five fathoms deep, more easily 
 than so many inches in our eastern streams or lakelets 
 shores so bold, that a man-of-war can lie broadside against the 
 rocks, moored to the mighty pines, whose foliage makes wild 
 music to the gale from which they shelter her, many and 
 many a yard above her topmasts. No sounds or sights of life 
 save the plash of the heavy sturgeon falling back on the mir 
 rored surface, and breaking the green-wood picture, which slept 
 there so calmly bright, into a thousand glancing ripples ; save the 
 wild, tremulous note, how like the Ossianic notion of a spirit s 
 cry, of the great northern diver ; save the circling swoops of 
 the snowy terns and gulls ; and, now perhaps and again, at 
 rare intervals, the heavy shadow cast on the sunny lake from 
 the broad wings of the bald-headed eagle, sailing between it 
 and the sun, and overcoming its clear surface most like a sum 
 mer cloud. 
 
 Such, and such only, are the sounds and sights which he 
 will hear and see, who voyages across those lonely waters, in 
 these days of vaunted progress and increased civilization. 
 
 But not so it was two hundred years ago ; for then those 
 grand, and good, and brave discoverers, those only real civili- 
 zers, only consistent benefactors of the savage, the French 
 Jesuits, were in their full career of enterprise, and usefulness, 
 and charity. Whatever may have been the course, in the Old 
 World, of this great, active, energetic, self-devoting sect, one 
 thing at least is certain, that from the first to the last in the 
 New World, of North America at least, they have been sig 
 nally, confessedly, and incontrovertibly, the benefactors of 
 mankind. 
 
 Strange it would seem, but so it is, that from the first intro- 
 
312 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 duction of Catholicism by the French into the northern, and 
 by Lord Baltimore into the southern, regions of North America, 
 the very genius of that religion changed its nature. 
 
 While the various sects of the protestants were martyring 
 one another, and combining only to butcher and rob the red 
 man ; while the puritans were hanging quakers, banishing 
 baptists, burning witches, depopulating the catholic settle 
 ments, and barbarously misusing the mild and peaceful settlers 
 of Acadia, offering rewards for the scalps of heathen, and 
 coolly sentencing independent princes, such as the brave Can- 
 onchet, last of the Narragansets, or the right royal Wampa- 
 noag Philip, to cold-blooded slaughter, the Jesuits with a pure 
 zeal, an humble self-devotion, worthy the followers of Him 
 whose followers they claim to be, were incurring pains and 
 perils equal almost to those of the first apostles, valuing their 
 lives at nothing, and dying with serene and Christian fortitude, 
 prompted by no desire but that of winning converts to the 
 Christian fold, and aiming at no other object than the precept 
 of their order, the sublime ad tnajorem Dei gloriam. 
 
 The great discoverers, and first explorers, the most authentic 
 and trustworthy historians, of our inland waters and far west 
 ern territories, neither climate nor distance, neither peril nor 
 suffering, deterred the dauntless Jesuits, where there were 
 wonders of nature to be rescued from the gloom of the prim 
 eval forest, or souls of mortal men to be snatched from the 
 more perilous darkness of heathendom. 
 
 To the honor of the Frenchmen and the Jesuit, then, be it 
 recorded, and I, though neither of. his race nor his religion, 
 will never cease to insist on its remembrance, that in no single 
 instance, do we find him using his superior force or his supe 
 rior wisdom, otherwise than as a true friend, and to the extent 
 of his lights, an honest spiritual counsellor, of the North 
 American savage. 
 
THE JESUIT MISSIONARIES. 313 
 
 Unlike the proud ecclesiastics, luxurious, greedy, fierce, and 
 cruel, who hounded the Cortez and the Pizarros against the 
 softer savage of the southern hemisphere, kindling the fagot 
 and sanctioning the rack, and baptizing with blood and fire 
 only, the French Jesuit used no weapons for conversion but 
 purity of life, humility of bearing, faith, charity, and a zeal 
 unconquerable for the extension of his religion. 
 
 Never the torturers, often the tortured, of their half-barbar 
 ous converts ; men often of the highest birth ; men always of 
 the brightest parts and profoundest learning ; they took upon 
 themselves the cross of Christ, and exchanged the most pol 
 ished court arid country of the then world, for the howling 
 wilderness ; and that without the hope of temporal or spiritual 
 advancement, without the possibility of gaining wealth or 
 fame, at the total sacrifice of every worldly comfort, at the 
 almost certain risk of their lives. They lived unselfish, and 
 they died undaunted, ad majorem Dei gloriam. 
 
 Honor to the memory, peace to the ashes, of the French 
 Jesuits ! Their bodies have long mouldered away under the 
 sere leaves of the forest ; the very tribes whom they taught, 
 and by whose hands they fell, have long since vanished from 
 the face of the earth ; but their souls live for ever in His keep 
 ing, who sees the motive of the heart as clearly as the deed 
 of the hand, and will repay a thousand-fold the good works 
 wrought in his name, and for his love and honor. 
 
 I have wandered among the sites of their ruined stations; I 
 have sat on the grassy mounds, whence they perchance preach 
 ed the word of life to their dusky converts ; whereon perchance 
 they writhed in torment at the stake, invoking mercy from on 
 high with their last breath upon their ignorant destroyers. 
 
 And I know nothing more affecting, nothing that leaves a 
 deeper or more melancholy impress on the heart, than when, 
 after walking miles along some difficult Indian trace, or pad- 
 
 14 
 
314 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 tiling the birch canoe over the dim and solemn waters of some 
 forest-embowed river, one suddenly emerges, under the glim 
 mering moonlight, or the fresh, dewy dawn, into the long-de 
 serted clearing, once fertilized by the hands of the good church 
 men ; and gazes upon the ruins of the outposts erected in the 
 extremest solitudes, not against earthly foes, but against the 
 arch-enemy of man. 
 
 There one may trace, even now, by the surrounding objects, 
 the routine of their innocent and blameless lives ; there, was 
 the garden where they raised their frugal stores ; even now 
 all wild, degenerated, and untrained, he may discover the 
 scions of the European fruit-trees, which they brought from 
 the apple-orchards of old Normandy, or the richer districts of 
 Touraine ; here is the spring, whence they drew the water 
 which, it may well be, sealed the Christianity of Iroquois or 
 Huron neophytes, long ere the Ojibwas or Pottowatomies 
 brought fire and havoc from their southern hunting-grounds, 
 and quenched the altars with the blood of their own unresist 
 ing ministers. 
 
 Many a legend dwells, to this day, about the places which 
 their deaths and their lives have alike rendered holy ; and 
 although these are related now by the descendants of the very 
 tribes who slaughtered them, yet they are told with sympathy, 
 and oftentimes with real sorrow; for the Ojibwas now no more 
 sacrifice the white dog at the full of the moon, but are gathered 
 for the most part under the same mild Christian rule professed 
 by the Iroquois, whom two centuries ago they slaughtered as 
 idolaters. 
 
 None of these struck me as more sadly solemn, than this of 
 Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng, or the Reed-shaken-by-the- 
 wind, an Ojibwa girl, who, in those dark and bloody days, 
 brought, like another Helen, havoc and desolation whither she 
 had laid up her fatal, though not guilty love. 
 
MORNING IN SUMMER. 315 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE MAIDEN. 
 
 She was a phantom of delight 
 "When first she gleamed upon my sight ; 
 A lovely apparition, sent 
 To be a moment s ornament; 
 Her eyes as stars of twilight fair ; 
 Like twilight s too her dusky hair ; 
 But all things else about her drawn 
 From May-time and the cheerful dawn. 
 
 WORDSWORTH. 
 
 IT was already daylight, though the sun had not yet risen 
 above the tops of the forest-trees, which formed the visible 
 horizon ; and from the aspect of the skies overhead, and the 
 soft, dewy coolness of the fragrant morning air, it promised to 
 be as beautiful a summer day as ever gladdened the face of 
 earth. There were but two, or three, small, fleecy specks of 
 cloud, suspended motionless near the zenith, visible in the 
 dark azure of the skies ; and these were changing their hues 
 momently, as long lustrous rays came stealing up from the 
 eastward, harbingers of the sun s advent. A moment ago, they 
 were plain, sad-colored, gray patches on the blue ground-work ; 
 gradually a dull purple glazed them over ; that brightened into 
 rose-color ; into rich carmine ; and now they are glittering like 
 coals of fire, or flecks of molten gold, mirrored as clearly in 
 the still, narrow, brimful river, as they glow aloft in the sum 
 mer sky. 
 
 The thin, light mist, which crept up awhile since from the 
 surface of the translucent stream, has melted into air ; and the 
 
316 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 evergreens on the farther shore, huge hemlocks and heaven- 
 reaching pines, which grow down to the very water s edge, are 
 reflected so wondrously distinct, dark feathery plumage, ar 
 rowy limbs, and white, weather-bleached centennial trunks, 
 that it were a very true eye which should define at once where 
 is the meeting of the reality and of the shadow. Ever and 
 anon a plump of duck and mallard come sweeping over head, 
 above the tops of the highest trees, the strident whistle of their 
 wings first attracting the eye to their quick, glancing flight, 
 and are scarce seen before they have darted out of sight be 
 yond the wooded point that bounds the next reach of the gentle 
 river. Once and again a heavy shadow flits over the smooth 
 expanse, the image as it seems of a gigantic pair of wings, 
 overshadowing half the width of the sunlighted channel. It 
 ceases suddenly, for the wings which projected it are folded, 
 and there on the naked crest of a huge cypress, poising him 
 self on the very pinnacle, sits the bald-headed eagle, watching 
 to see the parent duck lead forth her fledgling brood from the 
 cool covert of the sheltering lily-leaves, which overspread the 
 shoals, and give the wary water-birds a sure asylum. There 
 flits, along the pebbly margins, the noisy yellow-leg, the golden 
 plover, or the small-spotted sand-piper, each in pursuit of some 
 small worm or insect, its peculiar prey. There the harsh- 
 screaming kingfisher circles above the small fry, as they dim 
 ple the tranquil surface, hunting fry smaller yet, and yet more 
 powerless. There again, motionless as the gray trunk behind 
 him, which in hue he most resembles, patient and Avatchful, 
 stands the great blue heron ; and now he cecks his bright eye, 
 and with an arrowy motion darts forward his long neck and 
 javelin bill, transfixing with a pitiless stroke the monster bull 
 frog, chief basso of his aquatic orchestra, just as he has him 
 self sucked in a beautiful golden and blue tibellula, as he hung 
 poised with rapid wing over an open lotus flower. Here, in 
 
A SIMILE. 317 
 
 the shadow of the bank, where the water sleeps so clearly in 
 its brown, transparent reflections, mark, where, itself a shadow, 
 lies in expectant ambush the lithe body of the great northern 
 pickerel. There, he has struck at a passing shiner, and ere 
 the bright, silvery streak, that marked his rapid transit through 
 the water, has subsided, a heavier plunge is heard ; for the 
 felon otter, watching from his hole under the tortuous alder- 
 roots, has espied the motion, and pounced, tyrant-like, on the 
 spoiled and the spoiler simultaneously. 
 
 So it is ever, in the wilderness as in the world, the strong 
 prey still upon the weak, and the weak on the weaker. All 
 life is one long flight from those to be avoided, one long pur 
 suit of those to be made captive. From the man, half divine, 
 to the reptile, less than the brute, there is no rest, no respite 
 to take or be taken, to slay or to be slaughtered, such seem 
 to be the conditions on which the boon of life is held ; nor is 
 the crowded haunt, the boasted mart of civilized life in great 
 cities, in this respect endowed with one immunity beyond the 
 lonely forest, or the howling desert. 
 
 That is a wild and lonely spot even now, and few and rare 
 are the settlements around it, either of the white man or the 
 half-civilized Ojibwa or Pottawatomie, but at the time at which 
 I write, there was no spot more savage, nor farther removed, 
 as it would seem, from every human influence, than the wild 
 woods, the rocky shores, and the still waters, which surround 
 ed the embouchure of what is now known as the river Wye 
 into the eastern end of the great Georgian bay. 
 
 The eye of the white man, even now, as he paddles across 
 the inner cove into which the deep, clear, narrow river opens, 
 fails to detect the smallest opening in the dense tree-tops of the 
 forest through which the brimful river finds its outlet, nor does 
 the bosom of the bay itself indicate, in the least degree, that 
 large mass of extraneous waters which here should swell its 
 
318 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 volume, for it is shoal to the last degree, and overgrown with 
 a luxuriant vegetation of wild rice and reeds, through which 
 steal deviously a hundred tortuous and unsuspected channels, 
 through which only can the ponderous dug-out of the Cana 
 dian Frenchman, or the light birch canoe of the native, find its 
 way into the entrance of the river. 
 
 The keener glance of an Indian, however apt to see things 
 with a sort of reasoning and inquiring gaze, deductive rather 
 than intuitive, would not be long in discovering that there ran 
 through those woods, seemingly so uninterrupted and unbroken, 
 a division line of some kind, regular though circuitous, nor in 
 suspecting that division line to be water ; for whereas the 
 northern shore of the stream consists of low, damp, swampy 
 land, for a mile or two up the course of the river, covered with 
 a growth of tamarack, hemlock, and cedar, that to the south is 
 higher, bolder, drier, and is overspread by a finer forest of oak, 
 maple, birch, and poplar, with here and there the arrowy cone 
 of a gigantic white-pine, piercing the clouds a hundred feet 
 above the summits of its deciduous brethren. 
 
 To the ordinary eyes of the traveller or searcher of the pic 
 turesque, signs like these have no meaning ; but to the half- 
 wild forester or to the aboriginal man of the woods, they speak 
 volumes, and thence it is that to find any retreat so sure as to 
 baffle the instinct and blind the eyes of an Indian warrior on 
 the war-path, is one of the things the few things on earth 
 which may be set down, as the rule, to be impossible. 
 
 Nor had it escaped the penetration of the natives, that there 
 was more than ordinary facility in supporting their family re 
 lations to be found in the neighborhood of the embouchure of 
 the beautiful Wye ; for even at that early day, when the Iro- 
 quois or Huron tribe were the sole possessors of the northern 
 shores of the great lakes, and when their villages and wig 
 wams, even upon their shores and water-courses, were few 
 
THE WYE. 319 
 
 and far between, it would seem that they had established some 
 settlement in that vicinity, tempted, it may be, by the abun 
 dance of fish which swam those limpid waters, and of fowl 
 which fed almost unmolested among the wild-rice lakes into 
 which its upward course expanded. 
 
 At the point of view whence \ve first looked on the tranquil 
 river, with its lazy eddies and many-colored, beautiful reflec 
 tions, the southern shore jutted forward in a wide, semi-circu 
 lar bend, above and below which the dense evergreens, which 
 were the only indications of the northern shore, seeming to 
 swim on the bosom of the slow-flowing stream, swept forward 
 in their turn for a hundred yards or so, when the southern 
 bank again advanced, and suffering a double reach to be seen, 
 resembling in shape an inverted letter S, cut off all farther 
 view in either direction so completely, that had it not been for 
 the quiet and sleepy swirls of the downward current, and the 
 narrowness and regularity of the channel as compared to its 
 width, the river might have been easily mistaken for an inland 
 pool or lakelet. 
 
 On both sides of the water many trees had fallen into the 
 stream, and lay some up, some down, some partially across 
 the current, and these of such giant bulk and colossal height, 
 that had two chanced to lie directly opposite, their branches 
 would have mingled, and they would actually have bridged the 
 stream ; nay, they might well, as I have often seen in that re 
 gion, when backed by deposite after deposite of drift-wood, float 
 ing trees, reeds, rice, and river trash, have formed a raft, and 
 becoming gradually covered with decomposed vegetable mat 
 ter,, and overgrown with parasitic plants and shrubs, have as 
 sumed the semblance of firm soil, with the slow waters soak 
 ing constantly, although unseen, below them, on their way to 
 swell the everlasting chorus of Niagara, and sweep triumphant 
 
320 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 into the huge Atlantic, through that incomparable artery of 
 North America, the grand estuary of the St. Lawrence. 
 
 In this instance, however, perhaps by the constancy and 
 strength of the slow current, perhaps by human agency, for a 
 keen eye might detect the marks of the axe on some of the 
 massive bolls, the course of the river had been kept clear, and 
 though a canoe, either ascending or descending, must have 
 run a zigzag or circuitous course, in order to escape interrup 
 tion from the snags and sawyers, as they would be termed on 
 the southern waters, these in no case interlapped or lay with 
 in forty or fifty feet distance of each other. 
 
 One of these trees, a vast white-oak, completely barked, and 
 bleached by the suns and snows, of fierce summers, burning 
 with almost tropic heat, and of winters, second to Zembla s or 
 Spitzbergen s only, had fallen from the extremity of the for 
 ward bend of the southern shore, and lay somewhat down 
 stream, with its huge twisted roots standing erect and grisly, a 
 huge matted cheval-de-frize at the water s brink, and its great 
 gnarled and knotted branches partly imbedded in the mud, 
 partly overhanging the shallow which itself had created with 
 a canopy of moss and river-weeds, and all the trash accumu 
 lated from a hundred floods and freshets. 
 
 Immediately below this, and so well concealed as to be in 
 visible to a casual observer, lay moored a birch-canoe of the 
 elegant form and delicate structure of the vessels of the abori 
 gines, and in it, busily employed even at that early hour in en 
 snaring the finny denizens of the waters, sat a girl of some six 
 teen or seventeen years, whom it required no second glance to 
 know for a child of the wilderness. 
 
 It is well known to those who have been in the habit of ob 
 serving the North American tribes in their natural state, re 
 moved from the contamination to which they now seem almost 
 inevitably subject on the slightest contact with the whites, that, 
 
THE INDIAN GIRL. 321 
 
 despite the detractions of color and of an uncouth and uncome 
 ly costume, there is often, not only a rare beauty, but a rare 
 fascination about the younger Indian females, although it may 
 not at the same time be denied, that were a painter in search 
 of a model, wherefrom to design with the most vraisemblance 
 the likeness of his majesty of the infernal regions, he could not 
 do better than to select an old squaw, of it matters not what 
 tribe, and his type of the hideous, the repulsive, and the horri 
 ble, must needs be perfect. 
 
 The girl in question was slender, delicate, and elastic as a 
 reed swaying in the currents of a gentle breeze, and what is 
 unusual among the aborigines, the females of whom are in 
 clined to be squat and dwarfish, was considerably above the 
 ordinary stature even of white girls, while all the outlines of 
 her graceful yet voluptuous figure, displayed a perfect unison 
 of all the lithe and fragile symmetry of girlish years with the 
 mature developments of perfect womanhood. 
 
 Her brow and face were dark, but not much darker than I 
 have seen in the liquid-eyed damas of Venice, or the stately 
 Spanish donnas, and the rich blood crimsoned her full, pouting 
 lips, and flushed, peach-like, through the golden hue of her 
 cheeks, with as warm a tide as ever burned in the impassioned 
 cheeks of an Anglo-Norman beauty. 
 
 Her long, straight hair, not curling in the least, nor waving, 
 nor yet in the slightest degree hard or wiry, fell down behind 
 her small ears, being braided in front in two broad bands over 
 the temples, and confined by a fillet or coronal of blue and 
 white wampum, stitched upon a thong of deer-skin, in loose, 
 heavy, soft, flowing masses, such as we see in some of the 
 portraits of Velasquez and other Spanish masters. It was of 
 the deepest and most perfect blackness, black as ebony or as 
 night, without the slightest, indication of that purplish metallic 
 lustre which generally plays over what is not unfitly called 
 
 14* 
 
322 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 raven hair in women of white blood, and more especially in 
 those of Irish race. Her eyes had the long, almond-shaped 
 orbits, and long-fringed lashes, which are deemed the rarest 
 charm of Italian beauty, and the large, soft pupils of the deep 
 est, clearest hazel, swam in a field of nacry bluish lustre, 
 which could be compared to nothing but the finest mother-of- 
 pearl. 
 
 Her cheeks were flushed, at the moment when we look upon, 
 and her bright lips disparted with a gay smile, as she pulled in, 
 each after each, the glittering rock-bass, resplendent in their 
 golden armor, and watched these trophies of her prowess flap 
 ping in the bottom of her canoe, till the gay sheen of their 
 scaly coats faded into the dull, blank hues of death. And as 
 those bright lips fell asunder in her mood of gentle merriment, 
 they displayed a set of teeth so brilliant, so delicately pure 
 and transparent in their undefiled enamel, that the most gor 
 geous belle of courts and cities would have given the best 
 jewels she possessed in exchange for those gems of nature s 
 giving. 
 
 Her features, if they had not the regular and perfect sym 
 metry, the complete oval contour, and the short-arched, 
 wreathed upper lip of the Greek profile, nor yet the high 
 born, glorious dignity of the superb Norman type, had yet a 
 harmony and unison entirely their own, a soft, tranquil, half- 
 unconscious majesty of stillness something that leads you to 
 revert your thoughts to older worlds, or at least ages more re 
 mote, when this earth was haply peopled by tribes less far re 
 moved from the awful serenity of the immortals, such as sits to 
 this hour wonderfully enthroned on the calm brow and solemn, 
 tranquil beauty of the Egyptian sphynx. 
 
 Yet in this solemn fixedness of feature, this serene serious 
 ness of outline, there was nothing lewd or unwomanly ; for in 
 so much as the outlines were statuesque and grave, the eyes 
 
THE INDIAN GIRL. 323 
 
 wildly serious, was the expression at times arch and almost 
 jocund, and the smile of the wreathed and dimpled lips all that 
 could be desired of winning, feminine, and tender. 
 
 It is remarkable, too, that although habituated more or less, 
 as all Indian females must necessarily be, to labors of a harder 
 and more abject nature than are attributed even to the poorest 
 and rudest American females of the white race, her hands 
 were as delicate and small, with slight, round, tapering fingers, 
 and long, oval nails, as those of any princess of unmixed Nor 
 man race. Her moccasined feet, too, were delicately and 
 proportionately small, not " cribbed, cabined, and confined" 
 like those of many of our modern damsels, who, in this, appear 
 to imitate the high castes of the Chinese till she could neither 
 stand nor go, but betokening at once delicacy of structure and 
 fitness for the purposes to which they were created by that 
 Providence which assuredly never made aught except unto its 
 end. 
 
 Her dress was peculiar, for it indicated that, even in that 
 remote angle of the northern wilderness, thousands of miles 
 aloof from the small and recent seaboard settlements of the 
 whites, white luxuries were attainable for the gratification of 
 female vanity. The tiara of wampum about her head was not 
 the shell-manufactured wampum of the natives, but of fine blue 
 and white Parisian bead-work. Her principal garment was a 
 short petticoat, or tunic, not unlike that of the huntress Diana, 
 leaving the right breast exposed, and barely reaching to the 
 knee, of bright azure broadcloth, with a shoulder belt, girdle, 
 and fringe of bead-work. Her lower limbs were protected by 
 leggings of dressed deer-skin, as finely wrought as the most 
 costly texture of the Flemish or English looms, and her feet 
 covered by moccasins, elaborately embroidered with dyed 
 horse-hair, which must evidently have been brought a long 
 distance from the eastward, since the gigantic animal which 
 
324 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 furnishes it so rarely found to the southwestward of the great 
 Canadian Ottawa, that it may be held to be unknown in those 
 regions. 
 
 Such was Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng, or the Reed- 
 shaken-by-the-wind, the fatal heroine of a disastrous legend ; 
 the fairest daughter of Chingwauk, the White Pine, the great 
 chief of the Ojibwas, cast by singular fortunes, and strange 
 ends, into a region many hundred leagues to the northwest of 
 the hunting-grounds of her tribesmen. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE JESUIT. 
 
 THE morning wore on calmly, brightly, and the sun, whose 
 long, upward rays had been for above an hour streaming to 
 ward the zenith, above the waving tree-tops, now raised the 
 upper limb of his bright disk above the rich green foliage, and 
 poured a flood of golden lustre directly downward into the 
 woodland channel of the stream, and lighted its translucent 
 Avaters down to its depths of gravelly sand, and long river- 
 weeds fantastically curling in the gentle current. Up to this 
 time the maiden had sat nearly motionless in her light bark 
 canoe, scarcely stirring a limb, unless to draw in another and 
 another of her scaly captives, to renew her bait upon the 
 barbed steel hook fresh evidence, by the way, of acquaint 
 ance with the whites and to cast out her line again into the 
 little eddy among the branches of the submerged trees in which 
 the fish appeared to rejoice especially. 
 
 Now, however, the sun shooting his beams downward, the 
 fish began to show themselves indisposed to bite so freely as 
 
THE FOREST SILENCE BROKEN. 325 
 
 before, and very soon refused altogether to take the deceptive 
 lure, whether that the increase of light enabled them the bet 
 ter to descry the shining artifice, or that the movements of the 
 waving shadows on the surface, whenever the fair angler 
 moved her hand, betrayed her whereabouts, and scared them 
 from the tempting morsel. 
 
 The girl, seeing that for the present there was no more 
 sport to be had, was already busied in taking apart her light 
 tackle, winding up her line on a delicately-wrought wooden 
 reel, and securing her priceless hook ; and that task ended, had 
 already lifted her paddle from the bottom of the canoe in order 
 to alter her position, when almost simultaneously two widely 
 different, and, in that deep solitude, most unaccustomed sounds 
 disturbed the silence of the forest. 
 
 The first of these, in point of time, was the near report of 
 one of the lighter firearms of that day, such as were used in 
 the most civilized countries of Europe in the chase, and known 
 as carabines, or birding-pieces, and that the weapon had not 
 been discharged in vain, was proved by the plunge of a beau 
 tiful summer duck, the handsomest of all the aquatic fowls, 
 from its perch on the projecting branch of a tall white-oak, into 
 the water beneath, on the surface of which it struggled impo- 
 tently for a moment or two, and then lay motionless and life 
 less, dying the slow ripples with a large patch of dark gore 
 from its bill, gasping now no longer. 
 
 The other sound was the deep, melancholy, silver tone of a 
 large bell floating down the light air, and down the channel of 
 the river, from a short distance toward the uplands a bell 
 so singularly soft and sweet, so serenely musical and melodi 
 ous, that its cadences would have been remarked for their 
 wild, sonorous swell, and long-drawn fall, even in populous 
 cities, where all the arts are called into play, to minister not to 
 the necessaries only, but to the luxuries of life. In that wild 
 
326 AHSAIIGUMJSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 region, therefore, untrodden as one would have been prompt 
 to believe by any steps save those of the prowling wild beast 
 or the heathen and untutored savage, how singularly exquisite 
 seemed that slow and solemn harmony that harmony pecu 
 liarly the utterance of civilization, of humanity, of the innocent 
 and pure religion of the white man he and he only can 
 judge aright, who, after wandering, after sojourning, far aloof 
 from the haunts of men, comes suddenly upon the traces of the 
 ploughshare and the axe, and pausing on the verge of some 
 small forest-clearing, listens, astonished half, and all enrap 
 tured, to the familiar music, long unheard of, the old village- 
 bells. 
 
 There is no sound on earth by which the human soul is rapt 
 so suddenly away from the present scene, from the present 
 train of thoughts, yea, from its very self, and all the strongest 
 of its secret aspirations, to the long past, the long-forgotten, as 
 the music of a distant bell heard in the wilderness. Often 
 times, when I, wandering as I have imagined very far from 
 the nearest settlement among the gigantic pines and venerable 
 silence of the western Canadian forest, have been surprised 
 from myself, and charmed away to scenes far beyond the wild- 
 rolling Atlantic, to the green hills and gentle pastures of my 
 childhood s home, even by the wild and inharmonious clank 
 of a cow-bell, gathering I know not what of romance, and even 
 melody from the accompanying scenery and circumstances, 
 and wafting back the willing mind from savage solitude to old 
 civilization. 
 
 At the first sound, the long, re-echoing gun-shot, the girl 
 started, and after gazing earnestly, and with something of 
 anxiety in her eye toward the direction whence it came, 
 dropped the blade of her paddle noiselessly into the water, 
 and by a dexterous turn of the wrist, sent the head of the canoe 
 gliding swift and easy as a bird through the air into the little 
 
CHURCH-BELL IN THE WILDERNESS. 327 
 
 eddy among the boughs of the fallen tree. Another and an 
 other sweep of the light paddle, delivered all so dexterously 
 that not a plash could be detected as the blade entered or left 
 the water, forced it out clear into the glassy current above the 
 obstacle which seemed to bar its way, so that before five sec 
 onds had elapsed from the occurrence of the alarm, if such it 
 were to be considered, the light vessel had shot with its fair 
 freight, six times its own length up the stream, and was glan 
 cing over the creeping eddies at a safe distance from the bank, 
 like a creature endowed with volition and swift self-motion. 
 
 At the next instant the deep tone of the bell swelled upon 
 her ear again again again clearly the Christian s sum 
 mons to the worship of his God. 
 
 And yet who would have deemed that in that lonely and re 
 mote corner of the wilderness, at that far-distant period, when 
 the very discovery of the New World, as men called it, was 
 but recent, and the most satisfactory attempts at its coloniza 
 tion as yet but an experiment, who would have deemed it pos 
 sible that the God of nature should have been worshipped other 
 wise than by the free and natural influences of the outward 
 world, by the grateful choirs of the rejoicing songsters of the 
 woodland, by the rich incense of the flowers ascending toward 
 heaven on the wings of the morning dew, by the instinctive, 
 vague, and untutored emotions which dwell even in the breast 
 of the wild native of the wilderness ? 
 
 Who should have reared a house to the King, Creator, 
 Savior of the universe, a house raised with hands in the howl 
 ing wilderness, or hung aloft that silver-tongued appellant, 
 summoning all those who are heavy-laden to cast down their 
 burthens at the foot of that cross by which alone they should 
 find penitence, and peace, and pardon ? 
 
 By whom could it, indeed, have been raised, by whom 
 sanctified, by whom daily administered among toils, and woes, 
 
328 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENO. 
 
 and perils, such as scarce any of the sons of men, since the 
 first martyrs of the earliest Christian era, have encountered, 
 save by the members of that wonderful, that self-denying order, 
 the policy of which, sacrificing all individuality, all personal 
 independence, all power, all pleasure, all ambition of the single 
 man, had exalted the society of Jesus into a unity so complete, 
 so unassailable, and so puissant, that kings and pontiffs equal 
 ly submitted to its dictation, equally shrank from disputing its 
 gigantic dominion, or holding out against its masterly organ 
 ization. 
 
 The word Jesuit has been used too often in our protestant 
 language to signify the very embodiment and personification 
 of bigotry, cruelty, artifice, deception, all, in short, that is 
 known as priestcraft, and that of the most odious and intol 
 erant description, until men have forgotten how much of good 
 mingled with evil there has existed from the beginning in the 
 history of Jesuitism, and how much the civilized world, and 
 the world of North America more particularly, is indebted to 
 these enthusiastic missionaries, these self-denying teachers of 
 the savage, these undaunted explorers of the wilderness. 
 
 " When the Jesuits," says Macuulay, an authority not to be 
 doubted or disputed, when he appears as the eulogist either 
 of the church of England or the church of Rome, to both of 
 which he bears the genuine hatred of the radical dissenter, 
 " came to the rescue of the papacy, they found it in extreme 
 peril ; but from that time the tide of battle turned. Protestant 
 ism, which had during a whole generation carried all before it, 
 was stopped in its progress and rapidly beaten back from the 
 foot of the Alps to the shores of the Baltic. Before the order 
 had existed a hundred years, it had filled the whole world with 
 memorials of great things done and suffered for the faith. No 
 religious community could produce a list of men so variously 
 distinguished ; none had extended its operations over so vast 
 
THE JESUITS. 329 
 
 a space ; yet in none had there ever been such perfect unity 
 of feeling and action. There was no region of the globe, no 
 walk of speculative or active life in which Jesuits were not to 
 be found. They guided the councils of kings. They deci 
 phered Latin inscriptions. They observed the motion of Jupi 
 ter s satellites. They published whole libraries, controversy, 
 casuistry, history, treatises on optics, alcaic odes, editions of 
 the fathers, madrigals, catechisms, lampoons. The liberal 
 education of youth passed almost entirely into their hands, and 
 was conducted by them with conspicuous ability. They ap 
 pear to have discovered the precise point to which intellectual 
 culture can be carried without risk of intellectual emancipa 
 tion. Enmity itself was compelled to own that in the art of 
 managing and forming the tender mind they had no equals. 
 Meanwhile they assiduously and successfully cultivated the 
 eloquence of the pulpit. With still greater assiduity and still 
 greater success, they applied themselves to the ministry of the 
 confessional. Throughout catholic Europe the secrets of every 
 government, and of almost every family of note, were in their 
 keeping. They glided from one protestant country to another 
 under innumerable disguises, as gay cavaliers, as simple rus 
 tics," as puritan preachers. They wandered to countries which 
 neither mercantile avidity nor liberal curiosity had ever im 
 pelled any stranger to explore. They were to be found in the 
 garb of mandarins superintending the observatory at Pekin. 
 They were to be found, spade in hand, teaching the rudiments 
 of agriculture to the savages of Paraguay. Yet, whatever 
 might be their residence, whatever might be their employment, 
 their spirit was the same, entire devotion to the common cause, 
 implicit obedience to the central authority. 
 
 " None of them had chosen his dwelling-place, or his avo 
 cation for himself. Whether the Jesuit should live under the 
 arctic circle, or under the equator, whether he should pass his 
 
330 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 life in arranging gems or callating manuscripts in the Vatican, 
 or in persuading naked barbarians in the southern hemisphere, 
 not to eat one another, were matters which he left with pro 
 found submission to the decision of others. If he was wanted 
 at Lima, he was on the Atlantic in the next fleet. If he was 
 wanted at Bagdad, he was toiling through the desert with the 
 next caravan. If his ministry was needed in some country 
 where his life was more insecure than that of the wolf, where 
 it was a crime to harbor him, where the heads and quarters of 
 his brethren fixed in the public places, showed him what he 
 had to expect, he went without remonstrance or hesitation to 
 his doom. Nor is this heroic spirit yet extinct. When in 
 our time, a new and terrible pestilence passed round the globe, 
 when in some great cities fear had dissolved all the ties which 
 held society together, when the secular clergy had deserted 
 their flocks, when medical succor was not to be purchased 
 with gold, when the strongest natural affections had yielded to 
 the love of life, even then the Jesuit was found by the pallet, 
 which bishop and curate, physician and nurse, father and moth 
 er had deserted, bending over infected lips to catch the faint 
 accents of confession, and holding up to the last before the ex 
 piring penitent, the image of the inspiring Redeemer." 
 
 Admirable indeed were the exertions, the virtues, and the 
 sufferings of many, very many of these great and good men, 
 and if an over-enthusiasm for the good of their own order, 
 and for what they honestly believed to be the greater glory of 
 God, did at times in the Old World as most assuredly it did 
 lead them into tortuous policy, entangle them in the sophis 
 tical casuistries of cabinets, and the perilous intrigues of courts, 
 if it did lead them too often to regard the expedient rather than 
 the good, and to permit and sanction of the doing of evil that 
 haply good might come of it, no such stigma rests upon their 
 memories in this hemisphere, aloof from court intrigues and 
 
JESUIT MISSIONARIES IN AMERICA. 331 
 
 
 
 cabinet ambition. Here they were the civilizers only, the dis 
 coverers, the colonists, the fertilizers of the boundless waste 
 the friends, the teachers, the Christianizers, and, alas ! but too 
 often the martyrs of the stern and savage red man. 
 
 The falls of the farthest western rivers, from Niagara to the 
 head-waters of the Mississippi and the foaming rapids of the 
 Sault St. Marie, the forest and the prairie, yea ! the ice-bound 
 pinnacles of the Rocky Mountains, were familiar to their wan 
 dering footsteps ; and before commerce or agriculture had 
 begun to hold dominion along the shores of the Atlantic, they 
 were felling the trees of the wilderness far to the northward 
 of the great lakes, choosing their stations with rare sagacity 
 for there be now but few of them which are not the sites of 
 great and prosperous cities and sowing in the breasts of 
 their Indian neophytes that good seed of faith, which should 
 lead by grace of the Most High unto eternal life. 
 
 They it was, then, who had built their fort, not so much 
 against human foes, as against the arch-enemy of man, upon 
 the northern bank of the gentle Wye, who had gathered about 
 the palisades of their Mission a small but faithful congregation 
 of the Iroquois or Hurons of the Lakes, and passed their lives 
 in innocence and peace " in that vast contiguity of shade," 
 wresting by degrees orchards, and gardens, and green fields, 
 from the dominion of the forest ; rescuing by degrees, from the 
 mists and thick darkness of ignorance and belief, the souls of 
 their dark-skinned brethren. 
 
 Their bell it was which now resounded so sadly, solemnly 
 sweet through the dim aisles of the forest, and over the sur 
 face of the long-resounding waters truly their silver bell 
 its cadences are familiar to my ears, for it has survived those 
 who brought it hither to proclaim the glad tidings of the Gos 
 pel, it has survived their very destroyers, and now, when the 
 sons of a different race hold the soil which whilom they cul- 
 
332 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 tivated, when a different language is spoken in their abiding- 
 places, it still hangs aloft above a Christian place of worship, 
 though not of their faith who then woke its mellow cadences, 
 still summons those who believe to the altar of the same God, 
 one and eternal, and the same for ever, whom the French 
 Jesuit adored when its first appeal awakened the forest echoes. 
 As the girl caught the pleasant sounds of the church-bell, a 
 well-pleased smile lighted up her gentle features, and the un 
 easy expression passed away from her, as the shadow of ; 
 cloud is chased from a landscape by the sunny gleam, as she 
 made her light bark literally almost fly under the measured 
 strokes of her fairy paddle. She had already doubled the first 
 bend of the river, and, keeping well in toward the bank by 
 which she had been fishing, had interposed the wooded point 
 between herself and any curious eyes, which might be watch 
 ing her from below, when a tall young Indian, clad in hunting- 
 shirt, leggins, and moccasins of dressed deer-skin, and carrying 
 a long gun in his hand, made his appearance on the same side 
 of the stream, some ten or twelve yards at most below the 
 place where the maiden was fishing, when the shot was fired, 
 and applied himself at once to the recovery of the game he 
 had killed. This did not occupy him many seconds, as the 
 current had set the dead bird in shore, and his quick eye de 
 tected it in an instant, as it lay among the outer twigs of a red- 
 alder bush which overhung the stream. As he picked.it up, 
 however, he did not fail to observe that a ripple different in it 
 character from the regular run of the waters, broke on the 
 sand-bank at his feet, and turning his glance instinctively up 
 stream, although it was already fast subsiding into its wonted 
 stillness, he was .not long in satisfying himself that a canoe 
 had passed up the Wye, and that within a few minutes. 
 
 Bounding forward, almost with the speed of a hunted deer, 
 he gained the point in a moment, and running out upon the 
 
THE INIDAN CHIEF. 333 
 
 slippery trunk of the fallen oak-tree, by the side of which the 
 girl s canoe had been made fast, he caught a glimpse of her as 
 she emerged from the cover of the foliage, and glided steadily 
 upward across the next reach of the river. 
 
 "The Reed-shaken-by-the-wind," he muttered to himself, 
 h?.lf thoughtfully, while a bright and pleasurable expression 
 crossed his features, and then tossing up his arm, he uttered a 
 long whoop to attract her notice, and as she turned her head 
 to the perhaps unwelcome sound, beckoned her to return and 
 take him on board. 
 
 But the girl, uttering a low cry in return, as soft and har 
 monious as his was dissonant and savage, shook her head half- 
 coquettishly, half-resolutely, and pointing ahead with her pad 
 dle to the quarter whence the chime of the bell now came 
 faster and more frequent, urged her light vessel ahead with 
 renewed exertion, and in less than a minute shot round the 
 turn of the verdurous banks and was lost to his view. 
 
 The Indian, who was evidently a chief, from the excellent 
 condition of his garments and accoutrements, as well as from 
 his richly-ornamented weapons, was clearly disconcerted ; a 
 gloom fell over his dusky features, and he frowned deeply. 
 Had he been a white man, he would probably have given vent 
 to his disappointment in an oath, but it is remarkable that blas 
 phemy against the Author of his existence is peculiar to the 
 cultivated and Christian white man, there being no oath or im 
 precation to be found in the vocabulary of any Indian tribe, 
 even of those who pay respect and sacrifice, for the averting 
 of his wrath, to the Spirit of Evil. He restrained himself for 
 a moment or two, and stood apparently in thought. " Good !" 
 he said at length, speaking in his own tongue. " Girl gone 
 to French fathers. Very much love hear French fathers. 
 Love too much, maybe. Bald-Eagle go too. Hear what say 
 see what do then know what think, too." And attaching 
 
334 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 the summer-duck to a bunch of several other water-fowl, which 
 he had slung from his waist-belt, he set off through the open 
 forest on the upland at the long, loping-trot for which the In 
 dians are so famous, and which enables them to get over the 
 ground so rapidly, when on their hunts or on the war-path. 
 
 Meanwhile, Ahsahgunushk had kept on her way paddling 
 swiftly and silently, until she had rounded two more points of 
 the shore, and had come into view of the Jesuit settlement and 
 its clearings, lying fair to the long slant beams of the morning 
 sun, sparkling with the dew-drops of the past night, as they 
 hung diamond-like on the rustling leaves of the tall maize, or 
 gemmed the tedded grass of the luxuriant meadows. 
 
 The little opening in the forest which had been reclaimed 
 by the patient industry of the fathers from the solitude and 
 wildness of the woods, contained about a hundred acres of up 
 land, on both sides of the river, bounded on the lower side by 
 the skirts of the primeval woodland, and extending upward to 
 the edge of a natural wet savanna, which soon degenerated 
 into rice swamp, through many a mile of which the river 
 wound its devious way from the distant highlands. It was a 
 tranquil and a beautiful scene, and one by no means destitute 
 of refined ornament and the decorations of civilized life. The 
 buildings of the Mission lay, as it has been stated, on the north 
 shore of the river, just where a large brook, after running for 
 some hundred yards directly parallel to the river, turned at 
 right angles to its former course, and discharges a strong and 
 rapid stream rushing impetuously through a deep ravine which 
 forms two sides of a parallelogram. Of this accidental forma 
 tion of the soil, the Jesuits, who possessed no slight degree 
 of knowledge in both military and civil engineering, had taken 
 advantage for the erection of their post, a bank having been 
 thrown up along the inner line of this natural foss, with a 
 strong though irregularly built stone tower in the angle. From 
 
THE JESUIT SETTLEMENT. 335 
 
 the upper end of the longer limb of the ravine a wide ditch, 
 with a high interior bank, ran parallel to the outlet of the brook 
 with a circular bastion or redoubt at the upper angle, where it 
 again turned westerly until it terminated in a third redoubt at 
 the junction of the brook with the river, the whole forming a 
 large, oblong enclosure, with a length of about three hundred 
 yards to the river face, and a depth of about one third that dis 
 tance, the banks all round being garnished by a massive row 
 of cedar palisades of fifteen feet in height, well braced toge 
 ther, and looped for musketry, besides being defended at the 
 top by a strong cheval-de-frize, manufactured in the forge 
 which the energetic priests had established and maintained 
 within their guarded precincts. 
 
 Each of the redoubts was armed with two small brass swiv 
 el-guns, of the kind at that time known as " grasshoppers," 
 something similar to what are now used in India under the 
 name of wall-pieces, capable of carrying balls only of a pound 
 or two calibre, but still useful for the defence of slight, irregular 
 works against tumultuary force, such as Indians, inasmuch as 
 they could sweep all the curtains with a hail of musket-bullets, 
 which the red warriors would be most unapt to endure. 
 
 Within this rude and rustic fortification, for the cedar-posts, 
 or trunks of which it was manufactured, were in their natural 
 rough condition all gnarled and knotted, overgrown with moss, 
 and in part overrun with ivy and various creepers, were the 
 buildings of the Mission which consisted of an interior paral 
 lelogram, made of square logs, dove-tailed one into the other, 
 to the height of two stories, with no windows or apertures of 
 any kind to the exterior, except one large, two-leaved gate, 
 giving access to the court within, which opened directly oppo 
 site to the entrance in face of the palisades, under a great 
 tower, fashioned like a modern block-house, with the upper 
 
336 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENO. 
 
 floors overhanging substructure and surmounted by the belfry, 
 whence pealed that sonorous and widely-venerated bell. 
 
 The buildings contained a chapel and library, occupying the 
 whole front of the square opening to the right and left of the 
 entrance archway, which was protected by strong double-doors 
 of hewn timber. On the opposite side was the refectory on 
 the ground-floor, and the dormitory of the father above, while 
 the two ends of the court were occupied by kitchens and 
 workshops for the carpenter, the smith, the cooper, with stithy, 
 and turning-lathe, and tool-chests, and all appliances for useful 
 labor. Store-houses, and a dormitory for the lay brothers were 
 above these, and in the centre of the parellelogram was a small 
 armory, well stocked with the firearms of the day, whether 
 for hunting or defence swords, pikes, and some few pieces 
 of defensive armor not as yet entirely disused, as morions, or 
 sallets, or gorgets, for the protection of the head and neck. 
 
 For it must not be supposed that the Jesuits were of that 
 drone-like breed of monks who vegetated in the convents of 
 Italy, or the hill-monasteries of Syria and the Holy Land. 
 Not they these were practical, shrewd, able-bodied men, 
 men of science, men of energy, men of the world men for 
 bidden by the rules of the order from no work of industry, of 
 energy, or of skill, which might tend to the advancement of 
 science, to the advancement of human happiness, above all to 
 the advancement of their order. They were the men neither 
 to be devoured unresisting by the wild beasts of the forest, nor 
 to be tortured passively by its yet wilder human denizens 
 they were navigators, hunters, agriculturists, fishers, antiqua 
 rians, naturalists ; they were the tamers of the forest no less 
 than the teachers of the Indian and not a few of them had 
 been soldiers already, and had served with the carnal arm in 
 the fierce religious wars of Spain and France and the Low 
 Countries, nor would be apt to withdraw their hands now from 
 
THE JESUIT SETTLEMENT. 337 
 
 the sword s hilt, should it be necessary to do battle for the pro 
 tection of their own lives, the safety of the order, and the de 
 fence of the settlement they had planted for the reclamation 
 of the heathen, the salvation of souls, and the greater glory 
 of God. 
 
 Without the palisades, however, though all within was strong 
 and stern, and guarded with powerful mastiffs, chained to their 
 kennels near the entrance, and a stout lay-brother at all times 
 on duty as porter, nor ever without arms in reach, there was 
 much ornament and graceful decoration. On the lower side 
 of the fort, as it is still termed, for the outlines of the banks 
 and fosses are still plainly discernible, as well as the ruins of 
 the casemated stone tower, which was not improbably applied 
 to more homely purposes in the preservation of their roots and 
 vegetables from the severe frosts of the Canadian winter, the 
 undergrowth of the forest grew up close to the farther edge of 
 the ravine, for although in the first instance a wise precaution 
 had led the Jesuits to fell the timber, so as to form an open 
 glacis for some fifty yards beyond their palisades, long secu 
 rity had in some sort begotten over-confidence, and the brush 
 wood had been suffered to encroach on that side of the clear 
 ing, so that it was now covered with a dense and tangled 
 thicket. 
 
 In front, however, between the stockade and the river, and 
 around the upper end of the station extending back so far as to 
 the brook, was a large and beautifully-kept garden, with espa 
 liers thickly framed with foreign fruit-trees, and bowery walks 
 overshadowed by trellices covered with both native and im 
 ported vines, and amid the .deep beds of pot-herbs, salads, and 
 cresses, and leguminous plants, and scarlet French beans and 
 lentils, was many a plat of flowers, some redeemed from their 
 wild state by sedulous cultivation, some doubly cherished be 
 cause brought from the far and happy France, filling the air 
 
 15 
 
338 AIISAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENO. 
 
 with the rich musky odor of the roses of Provence, and greet 
 ing the eye with the gracious show of the fair lilies, the chosen 
 flower of France. 
 
 Above the garden again was a large orchard, of peach, plum, 
 apple, and pear, which though not large trees as yet, nor hav 
 ing in truth had time to become so, were thrifty and in good con 
 dition, and many of them were so heavily laden with fruit, that 
 there could be no doubt it would be necessary to prop them 
 up in order to sustain their full weight when in the maturity 
 of autumn. Rich maize-fields encircled the young orchard, 
 twinkling in the sunshine and rustling in the breeze, with a 
 belt of rich emerald verdure, and again beyond these, inter 
 spersed with a few patches of rye, wheat, and barley, the level 
 green meadows pastured by a small flock of sheep, and two or 
 three little hardy Norman cows, stretched away to the east 
 ward, till they were lost to view amid the rank luxuriance of 
 the rich marshes. 
 
 A straight walk led down through the garden from the gate 
 of the mission to the bank of the river, where a small wharf 
 or jetty had been erected, at which lay a schooner-rigged pin 
 nace of some sixteen or eighteen tons, a couple of long, sharp, 
 clinker-built rowing boats, like those used by smugglers in the 
 British channel, two or three yawls and fishing-boats, of vari 
 ous kinds and dimensions, and a whole fleet of birch-canoes 
 lying balanced like water-birds on the clear surface. A little 
 shed on the margin of the stream was filled with oars, masts, 
 sails, and paddles, and all the means and appliances for boat 
 ing, fishing, or fowling, as very much of the subsistence both 
 of the fathers and their Iroquois neophytes depended on one or 
 other of these pursuits, for such they are even to this day, 
 rather than sports in that wild region. 
 
 On the farther bank of the river the cleared land was of 
 about the same extent, and with the same general character 
 
A HURON VILLAGE. 339 
 
 of civilization, except that there were neither gardens nor 
 orchards, while the maize fields were more extensive, and 
 were intermixed with considerable tracts planted with esculent 
 roots, and many of the coarser European vegetables. Almost 
 exactly opposite to the fort, on a grassy table-land, below the 
 cultivated grounds, and surrounded on two sides by the skirts 
 of the forest, stood a small Huron village of about sixty lodges, 
 built of stronger materials, and with a greater view to perma 
 nence than is usual with the dwellings of the aborigines. A 
 council-lodge stood nearly in the centre of the area, around 
 which the wigwams were irregularly scattered, but what 
 seemed a strange and most unlooked-for appendage to a coun 
 cil-lodge of the rude Iroquois, a large crucifix of wood had 
 been reared in front of it, supporting an effigy of the dying 
 Redeemer, rudely but boldly sculptured in the soft wood, dem 
 onstrating that the labors of the good fathers had not been vain, 
 and that the village was inhabited by neophytes who had in 
 clined a willing ear to the admonitions of the order, and had 
 turned their hearts to that meek and gentle faith, through which 
 alone cometh salvation. 
 
 Dogs, children of all ages, canoes, racks for drying fish, and 
 rude implements of husbandry and agriculture, lay scattered 
 about: and among these, interspersed with European tools and 
 instruments of steel and iron, lay many hammers, chisels, 
 hatchets, and the like, shaped by untutored Indian skill out of 
 the pure native copper of the lakes, which the aborigines had 
 long worked and known how to temper to a degree of hard 
 ness unattainable by our utmost science, although, on the intro 
 duction of iron tools and weapons by the French, they speedily 
 abandoned their use, deserted and blocked up the mouths of 
 their mines, and concealed them with such care from the 
 whites, that, although their existence was well ascertained, 
 their whereabout was never known to the Jesuits, and that it 
 
340 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 is in comparatively latter days only that they have been re 
 discovered. 
 
 Such was the scene that had filled so many times before the 
 eyes of Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng, that it failed now to 
 awaken any expression in her handsome features, and she ex 
 hibited only an anxiety to reach the dock of the mission, before 
 the bell had ceased to ring, which it might now be speedily 
 expected to do, since it had already changed its sweet and sol 
 emn cadence for the quick tremulous chime which precedes 
 the cessation of the call to worship. 
 
 At the jetty, speaking gravely to some of the lay brethren, 
 and to two or three scattered Indians, who as they left him 
 hurried up toward the Mission, stood a tall young man, exhib 
 iting nothing peculiarly clerical in his appearance, for he was 
 not tonsured, but wore his long black hair falling in straight 
 uucurled masses down either cheek ; nor in his garb, except 
 that he wore a large, showy crucifix about his neck, for ho 
 was clad in leather hunting-shirt, pantaloons, and moccasins, 
 with a wood-knife in his belt, and a strong staff with an iron 
 pike at the extremity in his hand. He was finely proportioned 
 and of a graceful figure, but so slender and even thin, that, he 
 gave you the idea of having been emaciated by sickness or 
 privation, and his singularly handsome intellectual features,; 
 with their dark olive hue, were so unnaturally sharpened, that 
 they naturally conveyed the same impression. 
 
 A bright light flashed in the soft hazel eyes of the Reed- 
 shaken-by-the wind, and a strange, fitful color flushed her dark 
 cheeks as her eye fell on the commanding figure of the ascetic ; 
 and as her canoe came to land, she flung the deer-skin painter 
 over one of the posts of the little dock, and hurried up toward 
 him, with an air singularly blended of consciousness with 
 timidity. 
 
THE FATHER BORROMEE. 341 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PROPOSAL. 
 
 RAOUL DE ROHAN, better known by his ecclesiastical title 
 of Father Borromee, who was now attached to a mission of 
 French origin, and supported entirely by the French govern 
 ment, which had seriously turned its attention to the coloniza 
 tion of the Canadas, and the northeastern provinces of the 
 North American continent, was by birth a Frenchman, of the 
 very highest birth and station. His family had given more 
 than one marshal to their country, and the exploits of the name 
 of De Rohan had been recounted in every clime whose air 
 had fluttered the glorious oriflamme, whose sun had shone 
 upon the glittering panoply and brandished arms of the patri 
 cian leaders and daring hosts of France. Cast early upon the 
 world, a noble and rich orphan, Raoul had followed the stand 
 ard of his country for the aggrandizement of her ambitious 
 monarch, had won great fame in the field while yet a mere 
 boy, and had been permitted to buckle on the golden spurs of 
 knighthood, long ere he had attained to the years of manhood. 
 Nay ! it was openly asserted that he might have aspired to the 
 baton of a marechal of France ; but suddenly, none knew 
 wherefore, he relinquished the dazzling career on which he 
 had entered with such early promise, betook himself to Rome, 
 where he joined the company of Jesus, and, before many years 
 had passed, enjoyed as high a reputation for energy, zeal, 
 learning, piety, eloquence, and absolute devotion to the interests 
 of his order, as he had formerly achieved for conduct and 
 valor in the tented field. 
 
342 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENO. 
 
 % 
 
 By the director-general of the order, he had been several 
 times intrusted with missions of the highest importance in al 
 most every quarter of the world, from Pekin to Paraguay, and 
 from the shores of the Red sea and the summits of Lebanon 
 and Sinai, to the turbid flood of the Mississippi and the cold 
 crags of the Rocky Mountains. Nor had he once failed in 
 eliciting the highest praise from his superiors, until he reached 
 that pitch of eminence, most rare for his years, that whenever 
 duties were canvassed of more than ordinary peril, and requi 
 ring more than ordinary powers and ability for their accom 
 plishment, the father Borromee was ever the first named, both 
 as the fittest person to be employed and the most eager and 
 earnest aspirant of the order. 
 
 Melancholy, grave, and taciturn, nay, almost cold in his 
 natural deportment, few suspected, even those who knew him 
 best, that the calm, tranquil exterior, the impassive lineaments, 
 the voice imperturbable in its clear, slow, modulated flow, 
 were but the draperies and disguise of a nature fiery and fierce 
 as the noonday sun of the equator ; and that under the cover 
 of that iron self-control which seemed immovable as the earth- 
 fast hills, there raged a very furnace of burning and blighting 
 passions, a temper prone as the flint to give sparks of fire in 
 return for stroke of steel, as prone as the snow-wreath to melt 
 into pitiful tears at touch of human sympathy or sorrow. 
 Strange stories had been rife when he resigned the sword and 
 spurs for the crucifix and cowl, of frustrated affections, and the 
 course of true love as usual run astray, of crimes and agonies, 
 raptures and madness, but like vain rumors they died away, 
 and none who looked now on the taciturn, emaciated priest, 
 wasted with penance and maceration, watching and fasting, 
 and every form of self-denial, could have deemed it possible 
 that the very spirit of the gladiator, the very passions of the 
 restless, reckless, roving soldier dwelt beneath the hair-shirt, 
 
THE REED-SHAKEN-BY-THE-WIND. 343 
 
 which he wore ever beneath the buckskin which was more 
 fitting wear for the western wilderness than the surge cassock 
 of the monk. 
 
 Yet, in despite his ascetism, the father Borromee was a 
 favorite among the brothers of his order, the chosen counsellor 
 of his superior, and beloved by the Indians of the Mission with 
 a love approaching almost to idolatry, which he was wont at 
 times to censure in the frank and artless neophytes, as being 
 greater in degree and more intense in its character than it be 
 came mortal creatures to bestow one upon the other. The 
 secret of this lay perhaps in the fact that stern and rigid toward 
 himself, he was indulgent, liberal, and unexacting toward 
 others ; that grave and austere to himself when alone, he was 
 genial, bland, and warm-hearted, toward others, and that his 
 tact and tenderness in managing those full-grown children of 
 nature s own framing, the red Indians, he was celebrated above 
 the celebrated, and was everywhere, so far as his eloquence 
 or his report had penetrated, the counsellor, the friend, and al 
 most the father of those who loved to call themselves his red 
 children. 
 
 It was toward this stately and dignified personage that the 
 " Reed-shaken-by-the-wind" turned her footsteps, carrying in 
 her hand the string of rock-bass which she had taken, and 
 with a very singular expression in her large liquid eye, half- 
 bashful and shy, yet half-alluring and attractive, and with some 
 thing in her whole gait, air, and demeanor, that implied an 
 eager desire to attract notice, mingled with a timidity more 
 than mere girlish bashfulness, which seemed as if it must have 
 its own peculiar meaning. Her eyes were downcast as she 
 approached the priest, yet she shot long, furtive glances from 
 beneath the deep-fringed lashes which were pencilled in strong 
 relief against the glowing hues of her rich cheeks, for she 
 blushed deeply, almost painfully as she became conscious that 
 
344 AHSAHGUNITSHK XUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 his clear, cold, penetrating eye was fixed on her as she ap 
 proached with intense scrutiny. As she drew nearer to him 
 yet, she faltered more and more, and with her head bowed 
 meekly, and her left arm pressed across her gently budding 
 bosom, she knelt silently at his feet, laying her little offering 
 of fish before him, and seeming to implore his blessing, al 
 though her lips could syllable no sounds to ask it. 
 
 The cold face of the impassive churchman relaxed not in 
 the least, perhaps, if anything, it waxed graver, harder, and 
 more solemn, and that deep, keen, gray eye pierced deeper, 
 deeper, as if it would penetrate her soul, that she fancied she 
 could almost feel its penetration like that of a two-edged in 
 strument of steel. 
 
 At length, however, as if with something of an effort, he 
 signed the cross over her brow, and then extending both hands 
 with the palms deflected over her head " Bless thee," he 
 said, in tones full of calm, devotional affection, " bless thee, my 
 daughter, and may He bless thee, whose blessing only avails 
 anything, and keep thee to eternal life." 
 
 She rose slowly and gazed wistfully and gratefully into his 
 eyes, and then turned as if to go toward the chapel, whither 
 many of the Indians, as well as all the brothers and lay brothers 
 of the company were flocking in from the fields, when his 
 steady and harmonious voice arrested her. 
 
 " Ahsahgunushk, whither goest thou ?" 
 
 " To church, father," she replied, speaking in singularly 
 pure French, with an accent hardly at all foreign or provincial. 
 " I am almost too late, but I knew not the hour until I heard 
 the bell, where I was fishing." 
 
 " Art thou prepared, Roseau tremllante ?" he asked again, 
 addressing her now by the French translation of her Indian 
 name ; " art thou prepared to worship the most high God, in 
 penitence of heart and sincerity of spirit ?" 
 
NEGLECT OF THE CONFESSIONAL. 345 
 
 " Father !" the girl replied, with a tremulous hesitation that 
 was singularly touching, but she said no more. 
 
 " Art thou prepared, I say, daughter, to bow the knee of thy 
 heart before the Lord of all mercies, and ask of him that for 
 giveness which he alone can grant, and then only to the true 
 penitent ?" 
 
 " Father, I am prepared I know my own unworthiness." 
 
 " When didst thou confess thyself, my daughter ?" 
 
 " On Easter-Sunday, father," she replied, again hesitating, 
 and casting down her eyes to the ground, and her cheeks now 
 steeped with burning blushes. 
 
 "Not since so long and wherefore, Ahsahgunushk? 
 Thou wert wont to be truly penitent, daughter, even for small 
 offendings. Wherefore not since so long?" 
 
 " Father," returned the Reed-shaken-by-the-wind. " Father, 
 it is that that I dare not." 
 
 " Dare not ! you dare not confess ?" he replied severely, in 
 his slowest and most solemn tones. " You dare not to confess, 
 Ahsahgunushk? and how then shall you dare to die? and 
 how know that this very day, nay, that this very hour, He shall 
 not require your soul of you, to whom you dare not confess ? 
 Of what so great sins are you guilty, that you should not re 
 pent them, and confess, and be forgiven ?" 
 
 " Oh, very, very guilty ! Pardon me, father, pardon me !" 
 and she again knelt at his feet, and strove to clasp his knees, 
 burying her head in her lap as she did so, and bursting into a 
 flood of tears of humiliation, and an agony of self-abasement. 
 
 " It is not for me to pardon only to pronounce the pardon 
 of Him who is in all, and through all, and over all, unto those 
 who repent them truly of their sins past, and intend steadfastly 
 to lead a new life." And he drew back from her half-extended 
 arms as he spoke, adding " Touch me not, daughter, for I 
 fear that thou art corrupt of heart, and that thy touch is of pol- 
 
 15* 
 
346 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENO. 
 
 lution. But, hear me, go thy way into the church, and pray 
 for strength and succor from above. To-morrow morning, 
 which is Sunday, I shall be in the chair, and see thou come to 
 confessional, so shall I set thee penance for thine ill-doings, 
 if that they deserve it, and grant thee absolution of thy sins." 
 
 " Oh, no, no, father ! I can not," she exclaimed amid an 
 agony of passionate weeping. Oh, no, no, no I can not I 
 can not." 
 
 "Canst not confess, Ahsahgunushk and wherefore 
 wherefore what crime couldst thou have done so terrible 
 that thou must needs despair ?* 
 
 "Not that," she faltered "not that, father. I could I 
 could perhops confess but not not in short, not to thee !" 
 
 " Not to me !" exclaimed the father Borromee starting back 
 ward, " and wherefore, I prithee, not to me ? Why it is to me 
 that you came for admission to the fold of Christ the Savior ! 
 It is I, who prepared you for your first sacrament, I who have 
 absolved you ever of your failings and errors, for hitherto your 
 sins have been but venial and, even now, I trust that I shall 
 not lack the power to console you, and absolve you of this 
 your evil doing, be it what it may. Only come, come, I com 
 mand you, as you would save your soul alive, come to the con 
 fessional to-morrow morning." 
 
 And with the words he turned on his heel, without uttering 
 another word, and strode away silent and austere, to robe him 
 self in clerical vestments, put on above his forest costume, in 
 order to minister at the altar, the only altar to the true God in 
 thousand miles of breadth of wilderness, and lake and river. 
 
 The maiden followed him silently, with her large dark eyes 
 swimming in tears, yet fixed upon his commanding form, like 
 pure stars shining through the mists which may dim, but can 
 not obliterate their spiritual lustre. Passing beneath the arch 
 into the corridor of the mission-house, she turned short to the 
 
THE RUSTIC CHAPEL. 347 
 
 right, and stood within the precincts of the chapel, a large rus 
 tic building erected, it is true, from the perishable materials of 
 the forest only, but in the pointed Gothic style, the groined 
 arches being composed of the gnarled and fantastic knees of 
 gigantic oaks, and the columns of knotted shafts of heaven- 
 aspiring pines, all wearing the natural colors of the timber, 
 unpainted and aspiring to no decoration beyond the ruggedly- 
 symmetrical forms in which they had been arranged by the 
 master-hand of one who had not studied architecture for mean 
 end or little purpose. At the entrance stood a vessel contain 
 ing holy water, and at the farther end was an altar, with an 
 ascent of six broad steps, and a wooden railing, above which 
 was seen the scanty sacramental plate, duly arranged on the 
 board, and several candelabra furnished with candles manufac 
 tured from the wax of the wild-bee by the hands of the fathers 
 themselves within the walls of the mission. Not far from the 
 altar stood a pulpit of form so graceful, that it atoned for the 
 simplicity and rudeness of the material, and above the sacra 
 mental-table towered on a huge cross of ebony, the semblance 
 of Him crucified, exquisitely carved in ivory ; this sacred 
 effigy, together with the sacramental-plate, being the only 
 articles of foreign character discoverable in that foreign sanc 
 tuary. 
 
 Within its humble walls were associated all the members 
 of the order, and most of the Christian Indians, for it was the 
 usage of the fathers to commence every day with a brief ser 
 vice, at which they required the presence of all the neophytes, 
 unless for especial reasons shown wherefore they should ab 
 sent themselves, and morning after morning, whether the burn 
 ing sun of July was scourging the tree-tops with his intolerable 
 lustre, or the deep snows of December lay spotless over miles 
 and miles of untrodden wilderness, the sounds of their matin- 
 bell, hailing the advent of the happy dawn, and summoning the 
 
348 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 artless worshippers to greet the Giver of all good with their 
 unpretending orisons. Nearly a hundred Indians were col 
 lected, mostly old men, or girls and women, for the chiefs were 
 principally absent fishing for the great salmon of the lakes, and 
 the delicious white-fish, which were beginning to run in to 
 ward the shores and shallows about the river mouths, and on 
 which the community in a great degree depended for their 
 winter subsistence. And orderly they sat and attentive, with 
 their dark serious eyes fixed wistfully on the face of the min 
 istering priests, accurately performing all the signs and cere 
 monials of the ritual, crossing themselves and making the ac 
 customed genuflexions, and even uplifting their sweet and 
 silvery voices to join the chanted hymns and litanies, but of 
 course unable to comprehend a word of the services, which 
 were couched in an unknown tongue. The brief services 
 were, however, soon completed, and then the Father Borromee, 
 ascending the pulpit, preached a short, lucid, and eloquent, 
 because fervent, direct, and clearly comprehensible sermon, in 
 the French language, to as attentive an audience as ever lis 
 tened to the words of holy writ from the mouth of mortal man. 
 He. had taken as his text the words " Come unto me all ye 
 that are heavy laden," and his discourse was riot an apology 
 for the use of the confessional, but a direct and forcible argu 
 ment in behalf of its necessity, ending with a striking and 
 almost sublime peroration, inviting, commanding, imploring all 
 those who would not slight and impiously reject the gift ines 
 timable gift of the dying Redeemer, even the gift of his own 
 divine life, draw near and confess, meekly kneeling upon their 
 knees, the sins of which, being human, they must necessarily 
 have committed, and to receive that absolution and forgiveness 
 which should fit them for eternal life. 
 
 Many an eye of those who listened to his eager and soli 
 citous appeal, for he appeared this morning singularly and as 
 
THE SERMON. 349 
 
 it were personally earnest in enforcing his doctrines, was wet 
 with tears of genuine and sincere penitence for slight and 
 venial offences, and many a heart was moved to an earnest 
 renunciation of some familiar and favorite sin, for his words 
 were of that order that pierce the sick heart through the ear, 
 and speak with abiding force to all those who listen in humil 
 ity, eager to be convinced, through faith, unto salvation. But 
 there was one soul through the very depths of which every 
 word, every accent of that deep voice thrilled with a strange 
 and supernatural power.; there was one eye, which, though 
 downcast and humbly fixed on vacancy, discerned every change 
 of the dark expressive features of the speaker, read the most 
 secret thoughts of his heart, felt that his deep, calm, penetra 
 ting eye was fixed upon herself, and knew that however he 
 might be in appearance preaching to each and all of his little 
 congregation, every word was, indeed, addressed to herself, 
 every exhortation pointed at her, every thought suggested by 
 the conversation which they had held together but a little while 
 before that was the girl Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng, 
 or the Reed-shaken-by-the-wind ; and, indeed, like a very reed 
 she was shaken and distracted by the contending winds of 
 passion and devotion, of human wishes and holier aspirations. 
 " And can it be," she thought within herself, " can it be that 
 he believes me so sinful, or am I, indeed, sinful, and is this 
 hopeless love, this settled, this devoted, this unselfish, fixed 
 affection, which never maybe gratified; is this is this, in 
 deed, a sin. Oh ! that he knew, oh ! that he knew, once for 
 all, that which is in this poor, faint heart of mine. For he is 
 good, and he would pity he is wise, and he could guide ; 
 and yet, and yet, how can I ever tell him he can be so stern 
 to the obstinately sinful ; and oh ! but this sad love of mine is 
 very, very obstinate. How shall I ever tell him. " O mon 
 bon Dicv" she cried aloud, as her thoughts, her fears, her im- 
 
350 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 agination, overpowered her ; " O mon Ion Dieu, aidez moi, car 
 je suis faiblc, car je suis faible, car je tombe. O mon bon 
 Dieu, aidez moi, sauvez moi, pardonnez moi, miserable que je 
 
 And the deep voice of the preacher took up her words as 
 she uttered them, seemingly unconscious that he had been in 
 terrupted, thus bringing it for the first time to her mind that 
 she had cried out in the bitterness of her soul before the whole 
 congregation. " O bon Dieu ! aidez nous, sauvez nous, par 
 donnez nous, miserables que nous sommes, pecheurs, et indignes, 
 pardonnez nous; au nom du fils bien cheri, au nom du Saint- 
 Esprit, pardonnez, pardonnez, et sauvez Amen ! Amen /" 
 
 The words sunk deep into the wounded spirit of the girl, 
 and she believed for a moment that he penetrated her secret, 
 that he had fathomed the abysses of her obstinate and rebel 
 lious heart, that he understood, pitied, prayed for her. Yet 
 never was she under the influence of a more unfounded fancy. 
 She had been rather a favorite of the Jesuit from the first, her 
 singular innocence and artlessness, the confidence with which 
 she had accepted his ministry, her simple and ingenuous faith, 
 and her remarkable readiness in acquiring the tongues of Eu 
 rope, which she had literally caught on the wing as they fell 
 from his fluent lips, had all attracted his attention and pleased 
 his imagination. She was his first convert, too, of that wild 
 tribe, so that he regarded her not only as an innocent and spot 
 less lamb rescued by his agency from the fangs of the devour 
 ing wolf, but felt toward her something of the feeling which 
 dwells in the breast of a young mother toward a first-born 
 child. 
 
 Her rare beauty, too, though he was ignorant of its effect, 
 and would have shrunk back in horror could he have even 
 dreamed that the short-lived comeliness of flesh and blood 
 could influence his imagination, or win anything of his favor, 
 
THE BALD-EAGLE OF THE IROQUOIS. 351 
 
 had probably not failed of its wonted attraction ; and he con 
 fessed even to himself that her sweet, low voice the voices 
 of most Indian women, while young, are liquid and melodious, 
 but Ahsahgunushk s was so even to the wonder of the tribe 
 found a responsive chord in his memory, or his fancy he 
 would not admit even to himself that he had a heart and 
 transported him to days long past, and scenes long unvisited, 
 but never to be forgotten. 
 
 If, however, the maiden erred in supposing that the causes 
 of her agitation, her absenting herself from the confessional, 
 her tears and self-reproaches were understood or suspected 
 by the father, she deceived herself yet more blindly when she 
 supposed that they had escaped the eyes of another. And 
 yet, when she arose from her knees at the conclusion of the 
 service, and found the keen, hawk-like glance of the Bald- 
 Eagle riveted with a meaning expression, half fierce, half fond, 
 yet either way, most repulsive, upon her shrinking form and 
 conscious features, she shuddered with a sort of half-prophetic 
 terror, arid endeavored so to mingle herself with the other girls, 
 as to escape his notice. 
 
 If such, however, was her intention, it was frustrated, for as 
 she passed out of the gateway into the garden, a hand was 
 laid firmly, though not forcibly, upon her shoulder, and as she 
 started, and instinctively endeavored to free herself from the 
 grasp, the deep voice of the Indian, suppressed into its gentlest 
 tones, fell upon her ear ungraciously, and conveying nothing 
 either of confidence or of gratification on its tones. 
 
 " Be not frightened, Ahsahgunushk," it said, " it is only I 
 the Bald-Eagle of the Iroquois. I, who am your friend, and 
 the son of your father" for, when captured, almost in her in 
 fancy, from her own tribe, the Ojibwas, whom the whites cal 
 led Chippewas, she had been adopted by the great war-chief 
 of the Hurons, the War-Eagle, and had been brought up in 
 
352 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 his wigwam as if she had been his daughter. " Come this 
 way," he continued, waving his hand through the garden to 
 ward the ravine and the woodland beyond it. " Come this 
 way, the Bald-Eagle would hold council with the Reed-shaken- 
 by-the-wind." 
 
 The girl trembled with ill-repressed aversion, and could 
 scarcely conceal her reluctance, although the Bald-Eagle was 
 both a well-formed and handsome Indian, whom any girl of 
 his tribe would have gladly enlisted among her admirers, and, 
 besides being the oldest son of the great chief and the succes 
 sor to all his hereditary honors, was celebrated as the best 
 hunter and the bravest warrior of the Iroquois of the lakes. He 
 did not, therefore, suspect for a moment that she could have 
 any repugnance to himself unless as connected with a prefer 
 ence for another, and who that other was, he doubted if he did 
 not actually suspect. He was a man, however, of violent pas 
 sions and strong impulses, of an energetic will, and of a reso 
 lute, unbending, and self-confident spirit. No one, therefore, 
 could be less likely to yield his pretensions to an imaginary 
 rival, or to shrink from the fanciful fear of meeting a repulse, 
 from making his wishes known to one over whom in the vain 
 audacity of his soul he conceived that his slightest wish ought 
 to have the influence of a law. 
 
 The girl, however, who was only annoyed, and not in the 
 least degree intimidated or overawed by one who could have 
 no influence over such a mind as hers, except that which may 
 be produced by the reality of physical superiority and the rep 
 utation of manly courage over the less active spirit of the wo 
 man, replied simply, " No, not that way. Let us take the 
 canoe, we will speak in it, on the river, where no one shall 
 hear wha{ the Bald-Eagle wishes with his sister." 
 
 " Not sister !" replied the chief, abruptly. " Do n t say that. 
 Not sister, I tell you. Ojibwa girl not sister to the Bald- 
 
THE PROPOSAL. 353 
 
 Eagle of the Iroquois. Sister no, never. Wife sometime, 
 maybe." 
 
 In the meantime, the girl had stepped down the bank, and 
 taken her place in the stern of the canoe, paddle in hand, and, 
 although she distinctly heard the last words which the youth 
 ful warrior uttered, she affected not to perceive or comprehend 
 his meaning, but motioned him to take his seat facing her, 
 near the head of the slight bark, and sent it out into the mid 
 dle of the stream by a dexterous sweep of her paddle. 
 
 Then turning her face full upon him, and fixing him with 
 her full, bright, calm eyes, she asked him, in a steady voice, 
 in the Iroquois tongue, 
 
 " What does the Bald-Eagle wish ?" 
 
 " The Bald-Eagle," replied the young man, " is alone. His 
 lodge is empty. The Bald-Eagle has plenty of venison, plenty 
 fish, plenty duck the Bald-Eagle is a great hunter, his arrow 
 never misses, his spear is death to the salmon he has plenty 
 of skins, plenty cloth of the pale faces, plenty of wampum 
 but he has got no squaw. His lodge is very empty, his heart 
 is very lonely the Bald-Eagle wishes a wife." 
 
 " Why not take wife, then ?" said the girl, blushing at his 
 words, yet still affecting to misunderstand him. " Plenty 
 young Huron girl wish husband, plenty good girl, plenty hand 
 some. Why not take Iroquois girl for wife, Bald-Eagle ?" 
 
 u Iroquois girl not good, not handsome," answered the war 
 rior. " Ojibwa girl better. Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng, 
 she wife good for Bald-Eagle." 
 
 " Not wife, only sister," she replied, quietly. " Grow up 
 with young chief in same lodge, they papoose together, chil 
 dren together. Brother, sister not good marry sister. No, 
 no, not wife, Bald-Eagle, only sister." 
 
 Fire flashed from the dark eyes of the Iroquois chief, as he 
 heard her reply, and he clinched his hands vehemently ; for 
 
354 AHSAHGUNTJSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 he fully understood her meaning, and almost as fully compre 
 hended the inutility of contending against her gentle but as 
 sured will, or endeav.oring to alter her purpose. But knowing 
 that violence and rage would be only worse than useless, he 
 made a great effort, and subduing his fierce temper, replied in 
 a voice as quiet as that in which he had commenced his woo 
 ing. 
 
 " Not true," he said. " One father, one mother make broth 
 er, make .sister. My father, War-Eagle, of the Iroquois, my 
 mother, Mist-of-the-Lakes. Ahsahgunushk s father, Ching- 
 wauk, of the Ojibwas, he call White-Pine, great chief, too ; 
 mother, Ojibwa squaw, maybe. Not brother, not sister at all. 
 I say not sister. The Bald-Eagle s lodge waits for the Reed- 
 shaken-by-the-wind. The Bald-Eagle thinks of her when he 
 is alone in the woods on the deer-stand ; he sees her face in 
 the clear waters, when he should look for the hamaycush, the 
 great salmon of the lakes ; he hears her voice on the winds 
 of heaven, when he should listen Awunk of the geese in the 
 clouds ; he dreams of her when he is alone in his wigwam by 
 night. He loves Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng more than 
 all the girls of the Iroquois, more than all the daughters of the 
 pale faces down at the Isle Jesus.* Ojibwa girl best of all, 
 handsomest, most loved. Ojibwa girl be the wife of the Bald- 
 Eagle." 
 
 " Bald-Eagle," answered the maiden, calmly and kindly, 
 " I have heard your words, and marked them. Now hear 
 mine, and believe them, for they are true." 
 
 "Good," replied the chief. "Will hear will believe 
 only say yes ; will love, and take to wigwam." 
 
 " The Bald-Eagle is a great warrior, a great chief. His 
 arm is very strong in the chase, very strong in the battle. Ho 
 can bend his enemies for his pride, he can bend the wild beasts 
 * Montreal. 
 
THE REFUSAL. 355 
 
 of the forest for his sport, he can bend the trees of the wood 
 for his pleasure, but he can not bend the heart of a young girl, 
 he can only break it. Hark you, Bald-Eagle, a great chief 
 and warrior should not lead an unwilling bride to his wigwam. 
 A bride s eyes should look forward always, never look back 
 ward. A bride s eyes should be blind to the face of her father, 
 her ears should be deaf to the calling of her mother. She 
 should see nothing, hear nothing, think of nothing, but her 
 husband. Bald-Eagle, the eyes of Ahsahgunushk look back 
 always, look forward not at all. She sees only gray hairs 
 only the gray hairs of Chingwauk, the great chief of the Ojib- 
 was. She hears only a thin voice, only a thin, old, sorrowful 
 voice ; it is the voice of her mother calling the Reed-shaken- 
 by-the-wind calling to her to return to the hunting-ground 
 of the Ojibwas. Bald-Eagle, her eyes are so full of the past 
 that she can not see the present, can not see the future. Her 
 eyes are so full of tears," and in truth they did fill and over 
 flow as she uttered the words, " so full of tears that she can 
 not see the face of the young warrior her ears are stopped up 
 by the calling of her mother that she can not hear the voice 
 of the young brave. His form may be comely to the sight of 
 others, but it is not comely to the sight of Ahsahgunushk. 
 His voice may sound pleasant to the hearing of others, but it 
 is not pleasant to the ears of Ahsahgunushk. She can not be 
 the wife of Bald-Eagle. I have spoken." 
 
 The young man glared at her with a vacant eye, and blank 
 expression for a moment, as if he had not clearly comprehend 
 ed what she said. But a minute afterward the blood came 
 hotly and fiercely to his cheek, his lip curled scornfully, his 
 eye flashed with a vengeful arid malignant fire. 
 
 " It is a lie !" he said, not passionately but sullenly, reso 
 lutely ; and as he spoke his features again became impassive 
 as they had been before he heard her. " I have heard a 
 
356 AHSAKGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSEXG. 
 
 voice," he continued, " but it was a lying voice a voice very 
 bad, very forked, even as the tongue of the rattlesnake that 
 lies among the rocks a bad, lying voice. Her eyes do not 
 look backward, they look forward. Her eyes do not see the 
 face of Chingwouk, nor do her ears hear the voice of her 
 Ojibwa mother. If her heart is not in the wigwam of the 
 Bald-Eagle, neither is it in the far away hunting-grounds of 
 the Ojibwa. If her eyes can not see the form, neither her 
 ears hear the voice of the Bald-Eagle, neither are they blind 
 ed by tears for the Ojibwa, nor stopped up bv the callings 
 of her mother. If the Bald-Eagle be not comely to her sight, 
 nor his voice pleasant to her ear, it is because the face of an 
 other is dearer, and the voice of another sounds sweeter. If 
 she will not enter the wigwam of the Bald-Eagle, it is because 
 she would enter the wooden house of the pale-faces. If 
 she will not be the wife of the Bald-Eagle, it is because she 
 would be the wife of the priest the young priest of the pale 
 faces." 
 
 As he uttered the last words in a deep, hissing, guttural 
 voice, his face livid with disappointed pride and envious spite, 
 and his fine form literally convulsed with fury, she met his 
 fierce glare with a calm, equable, and unmoved look, nor did 
 she even blush ; for the very intensity of her emotions acted 
 to prevent the outward manifestation of them ; and the shock 
 which she experienced at discovering that the most sacred 
 secret of her soul, unconfessed even to her own inmost thoughts, 
 her silent, hopeless, passionless devotion, had escaped her cus 
 tody, that it had been seen by profane eyes, and spoken of by 
 lips unfriendly and unsanctified, acted upon her system with 
 such violence as at the same time to stun her nerves, and to 
 strengthen her moral courage, and she made answer in a calm 
 voice, and with a firm and unmoved countenance. 
 
 " Forbear ! Priests have no wives. You speak with a false 
 
THE INSULT. 357 
 
 tongue. Why are you so bad why are you so false why 
 are you so cruel ? If she wished it, and he wished it like 
 wise, the Reed-shaken-by-the-wind could not be the wife of 
 the young priest of the pale faces." 
 
 " And if she could, she should not," retorted the vehement 
 and enraged warrior. " She shall not ! She shall not ! while 
 there is strength in the arm, and blood in the veins, and hatred 
 in the heart of the Bald-Eagle, she shall not be the wife of the 
 lying priest. My heart is very hard, my will is very strong. 
 I have spoken." 
 
 " Go, leave me. You are bad," cried the girl, actually shiv 
 ering through her whole frame with an irrepressible motion of 
 disgust and abhorrence. " That not the way for chief to speak 
 to girl. Do you think so to win heart, to get good thoughts, 
 to buy love ? I tell you not so, not so. That the way to make 
 young girl fear no, not fear! Ojibwa girl fears nothing but 
 hate, loathe, despise yes, despise make, Ojibwa girl de 
 spise you you, great, brave chief of the Iroquois despise 
 you, Bald-Eagle." 
 
 " The Ojibvvas are dogs," answered the Huron warrior, 
 savagely. " Their women are she-dogs. They are not fit to 
 be the wives of warriors, or the mothers of braves. They are 
 good only to hoe corn, and carry water for the pale-faces. To 
 sit upon the knees of pale priests by the fire, and to kiss their 
 lips, and be their cast-aways. The Ojibwa girls are she- 
 dogs, that whine for the dogs of the pale-faces. Wagh ! I 
 spit upon them they are unchaste she-dogs." 
 
 The maiden s face flushed crimson at the insult, and her 
 beautiful soft eyes seemed literally to flash living fire, as she 
 turned short upon the taunter. 
 
 " You coward !" she exclaimed, with vehement and passion 
 ate indignation. " 1 say you coward, Bald-Eagle, to speak 
 such words to a good girl. You coward, not warrior you 
 
358 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 liar, not chief. You Iroquois, I say, not Ojibwa. Go, go, 
 Ojibwa girl hate now Iroquois girl shall hate soon, when I 
 tell them. All tribe shall hate old chief, old squaw, young 
 warriors, young girls, all shall hate, all despise you?" 
 
 Goaded almost to madness by her vehement and indignant 
 reproaches, the Bald-Eagle rose to his feet, and passing with 
 a light and even foot down the canoe to the place where she 
 sat, still swelling with violent emotion, and more beautiful for 
 the very anger that warmed her into such impetuous life, and 
 grasping her tightly by the slender wrist, raised his right 
 hand and smote her with his open palm once, and again across 
 the cheek so forcibly as to leave the score of his fingers im 
 pressed on the delicate and tender flesh. 
 
 A loud shout from the bank whereon several of the lay 
 brothers were assembled, and yet a shriller cry of indignation 
 from the Huron girls on the opposite shore, evinced the indig 
 nation which his cowardly act had excited ; but ere there was 
 time to mark the effect on his mind, she cast him from her 
 with such energy that he lost his balance, and as the fragile 
 canoe swayed with the motion, fell headlong overboard in the 
 deep water ; while with a bitter, scornful laugh, she dipped 
 her paddle into the current, and steered swiftly back to the 
 wharf of the Jesuit Mission. 
 
THE FAVORITE. $ 359 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE CONFESSION. 
 
 ANGRY and vehement indignation possessed the mind of the 
 Ojibwa girl, as she came ashore at the dock from which she 
 had so recently departed, and received the warmest expression 
 of sympathy from the lay-brothers of the order, who had seen 
 the outrage committed, and who, notwithstanding that they well 
 knew the inferior position which was occupied by women in 
 the Indian tribes, and the slight estimation in which they were 
 held, could not overlook, or behold, save with indignant eyes 
 and wounded feelings, anything so gross and unmanly as a 
 heavy blow dealt by a powerful warrior against a delicate and 
 fragile girl. Ahsahgunushk, moreover, was a general favorite 
 in the Mission. Her beauty, her gentleness and intelligence, had 
 won for her the regard and esteem of all, even of the grave and 
 abstracted elders, while among the younger, and especially the 
 lay companions of the society, she was looked upon with a 
 warmer and more human feeling, and there were probably many 
 among them, even of gentle birth from Normandy, Touraine, 
 and the soft Mediterranean shores of France, who would wil 
 lingly have overlooked the dark complexion of the Indian maid, 
 and, in their voluntary isolation from the charms of the fairer 
 females of their own race, would have gladly, too gladly, taken 
 her to be a sharer of the toils, and a consoler of the tedium of 
 the wilderness. 
 
 There was, however, at all times, a tranquil and dignified 
 reserve evinced by the Reed-shaken-by-the-wind, which had 
 kept all her admirers somewhat at a distance, a calm and un- 
 
360 AHSAHGUM SHK NUMAMAH TAHSEXG. 
 
 suspecting coldness in her manner of receiving their compli 
 ments and courtesy, as if they were either mere jests, or civil 
 ities due to her rank and position, which had deterred them 
 from making advances, which, gay and light-hearted and self- 
 confident as these young Frenchmen were, in common with 
 most of their countrymen, they could yet understand it to be 
 doubtful whether she would receive with favor. 
 
 Her eyes were very bright, as she landed, and gleaming with 
 wounded pride, and a keen sense of the degradation, which had 
 been inflicted on her by that blow, given in the presence of the 
 white men, who abhorred and repressed to the utmost of their 
 ability the servitude and ignominious station which was inflicted 
 on the wives of the aborigines. Nor, although it was no un 
 common thing for an Indian to inflict personal chastisement on 
 an offending wife, nor by any means considered degrading 
 either to the recipient or the inflicter of the punishment, was 
 it usual or decorous, or indeed allowable for a chief even of the 
 highest caste and distinction, to strike a maiden, especially if 
 she were the daughter of a chief and of a time-honored race. 
 
 Making her way rapidly through the sympathizing and atten 
 tive group, with a burning cheek, on which the marks of that 
 coward blow was still visible, and a downeast eye, answering 
 their remarks of sympathy, and their offers of prompt redress, 
 by monosyllables only, she took her way toward the fort, with 
 the intention, at first, of repairing immediately to Father Bor- 
 romee, and of laying her heart open to him, and demanding his 
 protection and support against her savage wooer. Before she 
 reached the gate, however, a change came over the current of 
 her thoughts, she hesitated, paused, and finally turned off into 
 a side alley or avenue of the garden, screened from view by an 
 espalier of trained fruit-trees, and over-arched by the luxuriant 
 tendrils of the vine. As^the first eager sense of wrong and 
 anger began to subside in her bosom, the memory of her late 
 
REFLECTIONS. 361 
 
 interview wilh the Jesuit, the consciousness of her own help 
 less passion, the shame of knowing that her secret had been 
 penetrated by another, and the agonizing fear that it might also 
 have been discovered by the object, came home to her heart 
 with sudden and terrible distinctness. The revulsion was in 
 stant and overpowering, and she felt that he, to whom by a 
 natural impulse she had intended to disclose her wrongs, was 
 the very last person living to whom she could speak freely on 
 such a subject, without revealing her secret, even if at this 
 time it was not already revealed to him, from whom she would 
 have most desired to hide it. 
 
 Then this reflection suggested yet another train of thought, 
 and she began to ponder deeply on the confessional, which she 
 had been enjoined to attend on the morrow ; on the secret 
 the guilty secret as she half believed it, which she would be 
 compelled to relate with her own trembling lips, to his aston 
 ished and perhaps indignant ears, whom it concerned the most : 
 and to wonder how "she should ever find courage for the task, 
 or arrange her thoughts, and frame her words to syllable a con 
 fession so humiliating to pure and delicately-minded woman, 
 as the avowal, that she had given her love, not only unsought, 
 but where it could not be accepted even when freely tendered, 
 where it would perhaps be regarded as a sinful and heathenish 
 artifice, perhaps be cast back upon her with disgust and rejected 
 with disdain. 
 
 Fuller and fuller waxed the overburdened heart, anger and 
 indignation vanished in an instant, swept away by the full tide 
 of despairing love, of maiden basefulness, of shame, of terror, 
 and of deep, desperate self-abasement. The tears swelled fast 
 and silent to her large dark eyes, and overflowed her burning 
 cheeks, and abandoning at once the idea of appealing to any 
 earthly comforter, or seeking any protection or redress from 
 the friendship of mortal man, she hurried away with fleet, shy 
 
 16 
 
362 AHSAHGUXUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 footsteps, to a thick, shadowy arbor, all overrun with wild vines, 
 creeping plants, ivy, and clematis, at the end of the garden 
 abutting on the forest, and there casting herself on her knees 
 and burying her face in her hands, wept bitterly and passion 
 ately, while she prayed fervently for succor and for strength, 
 to Him, whom she had loved to worship with a sincere and 
 earnest, though an ignorant and half-superstitious devotion. 
 
 Slowly the morning lagged away over the aching head and 
 throbbing heart of the Ojibwa girl, who still knelt sad and 
 lonely in the dim bower, battling with her undisciplined heart, 
 and untamed though innocent affections, while things were pas 
 sing in the fort concerning in the last degree the happiness of 
 her future, which, had she suspected them, would have added 
 yet wilder anguish to a sorrow, which surely needed no ad 
 dition. 
 
 Scarcely had the Bald-Eagle emerged from the water than 
 he swam straight across to the Indian shore, and making his 
 way in obdurate and haughty silence through the company of 
 Huron girls, who gazed at him with eyes eloquent of tranquil 
 reproach, and now and then muttered a word of sarcasm or di 
 rect reproach, he entered his own lodge in a mood the most 
 fiendish for in that mood were concentrated the disappoint 
 ment of a baffled man, the rancorous spite of a jealous man, the 
 irritated and embittered vanity of a proud and haughty man, 
 the selfish and stern persistence of an obstinate man, and the 
 deadly and unforgiving hatred of a pitiless, cold-blooded, re 
 morseless man, fancying himself wronged, and resolute to gain 
 his ends, whether by force or fraud, and to be at once gratified 
 in his passions, and satiated in his thirst for vengeance. 
 
 After remaining in this mood, alone in his lodge, for some 
 thing better than an hour, he made his appearance again with 
 out ; having changed his garments, saturated by the cold waters 
 of the Wye, and clad himself in his full and ceremonial attire 
 
THE HURON CHIEF. 363 
 
 as the war-chief of his tribe. He was fully armed, too, with 
 knife and tomahawk of French manufacture, with his bow in 
 its case, and his quiver full of arrows at his side, and his long- 
 barrelled, smooth-bored gun in his right hand, while his bullet- 
 pouch and powder-horn were slung across his shoulders. 
 
 Thus equipped and accoutred, he took his place in the stern 
 of his own canoe, and with half-a-dozen strokes of the paddle 
 set her across the narrow river, made her fast at the shore, and 
 walked slowly with a dogged and sullen air, and a firm, haughty, 
 and insolent carriage, to the entrance into the fort, passing as 
 he went several of the lay brothers, who had witnessed his 
 treatment of the girl, and who now looked up from the tasks 
 about which they were all variously employed, to stare at him 
 with abhorrent eyes, and to express their disgust and abhor 
 rence of what they termed the brutality and cowardice of the 
 man, in no measured terms of reprobation. None of them, in 
 deed, addressed him directly, probably in their present humor 
 they would have held it derogatory to themselves to do so, but 
 they spoke aloud and distinctly, in both the French and the 
 Iroquois tongues, both of which he perfectly understood ; and 
 they were well assured that no word which fell from their lips 
 escaped him. Yet he gave no token, by either sign or gesture, 
 or by any expression of anger, contempt, or emotion, that he 
 heard or understood them ; but passed onward, cold, impassive, 
 and austere, without changing the position of his head, without 
 turning an eye toward them, without suffering a muscle of his 
 face, to display the furious and revengeful rage which must 
 have been enkindled at his burning and unforgiving heart, by 
 the terms which he heard applied to himself, terms the last 
 usually to be applied, and if applied, the first to be resented by 
 one so proud and arrogant as an Indian chieftain. 
 
 On passing through the archway into the interior of the for 
 tress, for no one had questioned or interrupted him as he en- 
 
364 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 tered the gate in the stockade, he paused and asked of the por 
 ter who was sitting within, cleaning the lock of a harquebuss 
 where he should see the father Borromee", and his station being 
 well known and recognised, he was instantly ushered into the 
 library, where he whom he sought, was seated alone at a large 
 oaken table, covered with books, manuscripts, and mathemati 
 cal instruments, preparing a map, as it would seem, of the great 
 Georgian bay, with all its islands, and the northern shores 
 with their net-work of rice lakes, swamps, and noble rivers. 
 
 The priest raised his head as the chief entered, and seeing 
 who it was, invited him courteously to be seated, and inquired 
 what he could do to pleasure the Bald- Eagle, speaking to him 
 in the Iroquois dialect, which he used as fluently and even 
 eloquently as his own polished tongue. 
 
 " Justice," replied the Indian sternly, refusing the seat which 
 the Jesuit had indicated by a motion of his hand, with a con 
 temptuous gesture. " The Bald-Eagle is a great chief of the 
 Ilurons, he asks no pleasure of th,e sons of Jesus, only justice 
 only his squaw, and justice. 
 
 The priest looked at the man with some astonishment, and 
 with something of rebuke in his manner, for the tone of the 
 Indian was arrogant and disrespectful to say the least, and his 
 air and demeanor bordered on insolence, which the priest, 
 humble as he was by profession if not by practice, was one 
 singularly unlikely to endure. He had the rare art, however, 
 to repress every outward indication of internal emotion, and to 
 preserve an impassive and inscrutable countenance under all 
 circumstances of anger, surprise, or apprehension, and he now 
 looked at his guest steadily and with an inquiring eye, but 
 manifested neither wonder nor resentment. 
 
 " In what does the Bald- Eagle require justice, or against 
 whom ?" he asked at length, "and who is the squaw of the 
 Huron chief? I knew not that he was wedded." 
 
THE DEMAND. 365 
 
 " Not wedded," replied the dark savage sullenly. " That it 
 want be wedded want justice, want squaw. What for 
 pale-face want Indian girl? What for priest want Ojibwa 
 maiden? Priest not wed any how priest not have wife 
 what for not give Bald-Eagle his own squaw." 
 
 " You must speak plainly, chief," answered the Jesuit cold 
 ly, " if you wish a reply ; much more if you want assistance, 
 or, as you say, justice. I have neither the time nor the wish to 
 guess the meaning of riddles, so you must not speak them to 
 me. 
 
 " Not speak riddles, tell you," he replied in a fierce tone and 
 with an angry gesture. " Speak truth. Want squaw, I tell 
 you. Want Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng ; what for not 
 give her ? what for priest keep her, when can t call wife ?" 
 and he burst out into a long, vehement, and rapid speech, de 
 tailing his love for the Ojibwa captive, asserting his right to 
 her as the prisoner of his bow and lance, as the adopted daugh 
 ter of his father s wigwam, demanding that the priest should 
 compel her to become his wife, and should forthwith unite her 
 to him in the bonds of Christian wedlock. 
 
 The Jesuit perceived that the Indian was much excited if 
 not enraged, and being entirely ignorant himself and unsus 
 picious of the attachment with which he had unwillingly and 
 unknowingly inspired the bosom of the maiden, he did not 
 comprehend, or pay any heed to the obscure allusions of the 
 jealous and suspicious chief. He asked, therefore, quietly 
 and in the expectation of receiving an affirmative answer, 
 whether the girl was willing to become his wife, and begin 
 ning to believe that he had found a clew to the mystery of her 
 behavior in the interview he had with her in the morning. 
 What was his surprise then, when he received a reply couched 
 in tones of insolent fury, and accompanied by a fierce blow of 
 
366 AHSAHGUXUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENO. 
 
 the clenched hand on the table, which rang and quivered to 
 the stroke. 
 
 " What for ask that, when know ?" he shouted. " Know that 
 she not willing know that make her himself not willing 
 what for priest ask lie-question ?" 
 
 " How dare you, sirrah," said the Jesuit, his hot Italian 
 blood out-boiling at the insult, and his pale face crimsoning 
 with anger, as he started to his feet, with as much fiery excite 
 ment as though he had been still a warrior, " how dare you, 
 sirrah, use such terms to me ? You must be mad, or drunken 
 with wine. Begone quit my presence, nor dare to return 
 hither till you know how to comport yourself toward your 
 superiors." 
 
 " How dare ?" answered the Indian, glaring at him. " Hu 
 ron dare anything yes, anything. Dare kill priest, if 
 priest dare take squaw. Not begone at all not quit presence 
 till speak mind till speak all mind, every bit till told all 
 truth till got justice till got squaw. Superior! Ha! 
 Where Indian chiefs superior ? Tell that, ha ! tell that. Hu 
 ron chief no superior, only the Great Spirit. How you dare 
 how you dare, wicked pale-face, how you dare, lying priest, 
 love Ojibwa girl. How you dare make her love you ?" and 
 without giving the Jesuit time or opportunity to interrupt him, 
 he poured out a torrent of wild, fierce, impassioned words, ex 
 planations, accusations, demands, denunciations, threats, all 
 incoherently and almost incomprehensibly blended. At first, 
 the feelings of the father Borromee were those of pure wrath 
 and indignation, coupled with no idea what could be the ori 
 gin of this strange conduct and insolent declamation on the 
 part of one who, if he had been somewhat arrogant and haughty 
 in the calm and grave austerity which he pictured to himself 
 as the true mould of dignity, had never before failed of respect, 
 or grven way to bursts of impudent aggression ; but by degrees 
 
SOLUTION OF THE MYSTERY. 367 
 
 it began to dawn upon his mind that there might be something 
 of meaning, as there was undoubtedly much of method in what 
 he had first regarded as mere madness. He began to recollect 
 many trifles, which he had scarcely observed, and never noted 
 before, in the girl s demeanor ; he thought of her unusual per 
 turbation, and the confusion and bashfulriess of her manner 
 during their interview that very morning, and above all, at her 
 very palpable objection to confess herself to him who had al 
 ways before been her chosen director and adviser ; and he be 
 gan most reluctantly and doubtfully to admit to himself that it 
 might be, indeed, that she loved him with the unregulated and 
 artless love of a child of nature, an unschooled daughter of the 
 wilderness. 
 
 This doubtful and most painful sensation led him to supress 
 his indignation at the mode in which the chief addressed him, 
 and, though he felt himself pure and self-acquitted, he was in 
 clined to feel and make allowance also for the disappointment, 
 the jealousy, and the rage of the baffled and rejected suitor, 
 and in some sort to pity rather than to blame the sufferer too 
 severely. To one so acute a reasoner on the motives which 
 sway the human breast, so wise a judge of the actions, so close 
 and correct a scrutinizer of the thoughts of men, it was not 
 difficult to obtain from the passionate and fluent lips of the 
 Huron chief a full recital of all that had occurred between him 
 and the maiden, even to her positive rejection of his suit, and 
 the blow which he had dealt her in the vexation of his spirit. 
 And- while he was, indeed, wringing every word, every admis 
 sion from the unwilling lips of the warrior by dint of the most 
 rigid and ingenious cross-examination, the Indian never enter 
 tained a suspicion how completely he was cheated out of his 
 unintended confidence, but fancied that he was heaping coals 
 of fiery retribution on the head of the priest,, and confounding 
 him by the revelations of his own villany. 
 
368 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAKSENG. 
 
 At length he ended, as he had commenced, by a demand 
 that the girl should be immediately compelled, by the censure 
 and authority of the church, to become his wife, willing or 
 unwilling, and united to him in due ceremonial on the follow 
 ing day in presence of the congregation. 
 
 To this demand the priest replied at length, but by what was 
 in fact a simple and direct refusal to do what was required, 
 and a positive denial of the existence in himself, or in the 
 church which he represented, of any authority or power, such 
 as should compel a girl to bestow herself in marriage contrary 
 to her own choice and conviction ; and though he treated the 
 suspicion that she was moved by any attachment to himself 
 an attachment of which he spoke, could such a thing be, as 
 corrupt, sinful, adulterous, nay, almost incestuous as a mere 
 chimera and hallucination of morbid and exaggerated jealousy, 
 though he endeavored with all his powers of eloquence, with 
 all his influence over the spiritual terrors of the half-converted 
 savage, to convince, to soothe, to console him though he 
 offered sympathy, advice, and aid, though he offered to act as 
 mediator with the maiden, even while he refused positively to 
 exercise any coercion, or even persuasion, it \vas all in vain. 
 The rage of the Indian was deeply grounded his suspicions 
 were converted into certainties, and his own alternatives were 
 instant possession of the girl, or vengeance, deep, thorough, 
 and eternal, on all who bore the name, or wore the hue, of 
 Christians and pale-faces. With words such as these, and a 
 glare of the eye that portended deadly mischief, he turned on 
 his heel, and left the Jesuit, who, now roused again to indigna 
 tion, was rebuking him severely for his perversity and hardness 
 of heart, and threatening him with the terrors of excommuni 
 cation. 
 
 Sullenly, silently he strode back to his canoe, repassed the 
 river, and returning to the village, where he learned that the 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR ABSENCE. 369 
 
 Reed-shaken-by-the-wind had not yet returned home, but was 
 believed to be sheltered in the fort of the pale-faces, whither 
 she had been seen to repair, he once more retired to his own 
 lodge, where he proceeded without delay to make all prepara 
 tions for a hurried departure and long absence from the settle 
 ment. 
 
 At evening, when the tribesmen and chiefs returned from 
 the chase, the fisheries, and the fields for many of them, 
 under the teaching of the good Jesuits, had learned something 
 of agriculture, and applied themselves to ihe cultivation of 
 maize, beans, and other esculent roots or grains the Bald- 
 Eagle was awaiting them by the council-fire, where, without 
 the slightest allusion to what had passed between himself and 
 the girl, or any allusion to her name, he announced to them his 
 intention of going on a great hunt down the shores of the lake, 
 to be absent for a moon at the least, and perhaps for a yet 
 longer period. Such voyages were not uncommon among the 
 bolder and more adventurous of the tribesmen, so that no won 
 der was manifested, though several of the younger of the war 
 riors desired permission to accompany him, in pursuit, as they 
 expected, of both sport and profit, if not of honor ; the fur-bear 
 ing animals were then abundant in those regions, and peltries 
 were already beginning to be an article of considerable value, 
 bath for use and for exportation, with the Frenchmen of the 
 provinces lower down the St. Lawrence, with whom a com 
 munication was maintained by means of canoes and bateaux, 
 which came up through the inland water-courses of lakes and 
 rivers, interrupted by occasional portages, but extending far to 
 the northward from the mouth of the French river, on the 
 Georgian bay, to that of the great Ottawa river, above a thou 
 sand miles below, close to the rising settlement of Montreal. 
 
 Companionship such as this would not, however, have suited 
 in the least the views or intentions of the Bald-Eagle, who 
 
 16* 
 
370 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 contented himself by merely expressing his intention to go 
 alone, and by indicating the inferior chief to whose guidance 
 and direction in the hunts and fisheries he desired his young 
 men to submit themselves. Nor did he depart without in 
 structing his tribesmen to watch over the safety of the good 
 pale-faces, to supply them with a due proportion of the venison, 
 the ducks, the bear s-meat, as well as of the white fish and 
 mamaycush which should fall to the share of the tribe during 
 the latter summer and the autumn. 
 
 This done, and all arrangements having been duly made, his 
 largest and best canoe having been newly gummed and fitted 
 out with his fur robes and blankets, his fishing spears, and 
 traps, and implements of all kinds, in addition to his much- 
 prized gun, and culinary apparatus, meager and simple as that 
 was, as well as with a store of parched and unparched corn, 
 sugar, and tobacco, the Bald-Eagle wandered out into the 
 camp, or village, and strayed through it to and fro, as if with 
 out any object, but, in truth, with a hope, if it were not with 
 an expectation, that he should learn something of the Reed- 
 shaken-by-the-wind, if he should not succeed in seeing her 
 once more before departing on the journey, which he trusted 
 would result in making her his own for ever. 
 
 She did not, however, meet his eye for, in truth, over 
 powered with anxiety, and worn-out by the vehemence of her 
 passions, she had sunk gradually from sobbing into sleep with 
 in the precincts of that green sequestered arbor, and was now 
 slumbering in the gray gloaming of the summer s evening, for 
 getful of all her sorrows, and forgotten or neglected alike by 
 all her friends and foes, if she indeed had any of the latter, 
 save the enamored and irritated warrior, whose thoughts dwelt 
 on her altogether, even while his pride prevented him from 
 making any direct inquiries of her presence, or her absence, 
 from the wigwam of his father. 
 
NIGHT IN THE WILDERNESS. 371 
 
 None of the girls of the tribe had seen her, indeed, since she 
 walked directly toward the fort after the indignity which had 
 been offered her, but they all believed her to have sought pro 
 tection from the insolence of her overbearing lover at the hands 
 of the fathers, and they all rejoiced at the evident annoyance 
 and disappointment of the chief, whose unrequited love for the 
 Ojibvva captive had not escaped their quick-sighted eyes, and 
 whose overbearing demeanor, headstrong temper, and stern 
 rudeness of disposition, had so little endeared him to his tribes- 
 women, that they were certainly anything rather than annoyed 
 by his unquestionable rage and spite, the causes of which, as 
 well as of his unexpected departure, was no secret to them at 
 least, whatever it might be to the males of their tribe. 
 
 In the meantime twilight fell thick and gray ; the night- 
 hawks wheeled aloft on balanced wings with their mournful 
 and oft-repeated call ; the katydids, those shrill alaras of the 
 west, opened their shrill, sonorous serenade ; the frogs com 
 menced their loud, nocturnal concert from the shallow marshes 
 and dank meadow edges ; the great owls hooted from the for 
 est-depths, and were answered by the echoes through the 
 breezeless night-air ; the myriads of bright fire-flies lighted 
 their amorous torches, and flitted fast and far, now glimmer 
 ing clearly, now vanishing into thick gloom, over the dewy 
 grass, and among the fragrant underwood ; the fishes leaped 
 out of the water at the swarming insects, and fell back with a 
 short splash on the surface ; and, ever and anon, the long, 
 melancholy howl of a wolf would rise upon the night, and die 
 away in lugubrious cadences, striking a singular and deep awe 
 into the boldest heart. It was night in the wilderness. The 
 evening-bell of the Mission had rung its last sweet chime, 
 and the long swell of the choral voices had sent up the vesper 
 hymn to the Virgin Mother from the wood-girded sanctuary. 
 The stars came out thick and bright, like diamond-gems set in 
 
372 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 the dark azure canopy of the summer night, and after a while 
 the broad moon, now approaching to the full, soared up above 
 the verdurous tree-tops, filling the heavens with her serene 
 and holy light, and casting a broad, wavering path of silver 
 adovvn the middle of the river, enclosed on this hand and on 
 that by the deep, black shadows on the walls of stately ever 
 greens, which towered up from the margin of the brimful cur 
 rent, so that no human eye could discern which was the limit 
 between the low shore and the level water. 
 
 As the light fell upon the bosom of the waters, the canoe 
 of the Bald-Eagle shot out from the shore, and under the 
 noiseless guidance of his well-managed paddle, went down the 
 stream toward the outlet, and, long before the first paly glim 
 mer of the dawn had told of the returning day, was skimming 
 the surface of the broad lake near to the islet-rock known as 
 the giant s grave, leaving no trace of the path he had taken, 
 nor to be seen again by Jesuit or neophyte, till days had run 
 on into weeks, till weeks had become months, and the green 
 robes of the summer forest had been exchanged for the gorge 
 ous purples, the crimsons, and the gold of their autumnal gar 
 niture. 
 
 As the chief s canoe darted away and was lost in the dark 
 ness, a change seemed to come over the village ; a change of 
 cheerfulness and merriment, for the gay, light-hearted laughter 
 of the happy girls, and now and then a snatch of wild-resound 
 ing song, rose up from the neighborhood of the watch-fires,, 
 and the joyous shout of playful children, which had been all 
 silenced and held in sullen constraint by the perverse authority 
 and gloomy mood of the war-chief, burst out with redoubled 
 glee, freed from the restraint imposed by his unwelcome pres 
 ence. He had gone unregretted and it was evident enough 
 that his return, be it late or early, would meet with no sincere 
 or earnest welcome. 
 
MORNING IN THE WILDERNESS. 373 
 
 And still in her forest-bower, under the pale lustre of the 
 moon, Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng slept like an innocent 
 and happy flower, folded in the fragrance of her own sweet 
 thoughts, and unguarded, except by His care, who watches 
 ever over the repose of the spotless and the young. All night 
 long she slept dreamless and uninterrupted, until the morning 
 was beginning to grow gray in the east, and one or two of the 
 earliest birds began to chirp and flutter in the branches, then 
 she awoke suddenly, and with something of a start, and even 
 after she was awake she looked around for the moment thought 
 fully and doubtfully, as if she were endeavoring to collect 
 herself, and to remember how or wherefore she had passed 
 the night in that unusual and unfrequented spot. 
 
 Few minutes sufficed to bring everything that had passed 
 on the previous day to her memory, nor that only, for she re 
 membered somewhat uneasily, that she had the task of confes 
 sion before her, and while she recoiled, as. a delicate and vir 
 tuous girl must recoil naturally, from owning that she had 
 granted her love unsolicited, and that she still loved on, not 
 wisely, but too well, and that so she must go on living hope 
 less of return, until life itself should be over ; -still, as a sin 
 cere and faithful catholic, she never contemplated anything 
 short of confessing the whole undisguised and undistorted 
 truth, believing that otherwise she could not so much even as 
 hope for salvation, and confident that she should receive con 
 solation and pity for weakness, though she looked for no sym 
 pathy, and absolution of her sin from her gentle and grave 
 director. 
 
 This morning, too, in the pure light of the early dawn, in 
 the soft and gentle air, and in the midst of all sweet rural 
 sounds and sights, apart from any external influences to dis 
 turb, or internal emotions to distract her mind, she could think 
 and reason more rationally, and with a clearer judgment of her 
 
374 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 duties and her rights, both as a Christian and woman, than 
 she had been able to do when struggling in the first pangs of a 
 newly-comprehended and hopeless attachment, and striving 
 against the haughty and over-mastering will of a being at once 
 powerful and selfish, with whom contention must, be difficult, 
 if not altogether vain, and whom she regarded with abhor 
 rence the more settled in proportion to the obstinacy with 
 which he seemed resolved to press on her his odious suit. 
 
 Now, therefore, she had neither doubt nor fear, but resolved 
 at once to attend the regular service of the day, to pour out 
 her whole soul in the confessional, to implore the protection 
 of the order against the oppressor of the Iroquois, and if she 
 could avert by no other means that detested union, to devote 
 herself to perpetual celibacy, becoming the bride of heaven, 
 and giving up for ever all vain imaginations, all hopes of the 
 woman s brightest prospect, a happy wedded life, and a serene 
 old age, and peaceful death-bed, amid the quiet tears of affec 
 tionate and mournful children. 
 
 No sooner had she collected her thoughts, and made up her 
 mind as to the course she would pursue, than she stole rapidly 
 through the dimmest and least-frequented walks to the edge 
 of the river, for she knew not as yet whether the inhabitants 
 of the fort were stirring and the gates open, and she had no 
 desire to call attention to her proceedings, or to be required to 
 reply to any question as to the where or wherefore she had 
 passed that night beyond the precincts of the village, and with 
 out her own lodge. But. it was too early as yet for her fears 
 to be justified, the dwellers in the mission-house were all still 
 buried in deep sleep, and the girl made her way, unobserved, 
 down to the spot where she had left her canoe, unfastened it 
 from the pile to which she had attached the painter, and pad 
 dling rapidly over to the other shore, stole with a foot so light 
 and noiseless among the skin-tents, and wood-built lodges of 
 
THE HURON GIRLS. 375 
 
 the village, that she reached her own wigwam unsuspected, 
 and when an hour or two afterward, when the camp was 
 awakened, and the dim voices were heard once more on the 
 peaceful banks of the Wye, she issued from the door of her 
 dwelling, with her hair neatly dressed, her dress decorously 
 arranged, and her dark skin healthfully glowing after her usual 
 bath in the clear, cold waters of the neighboring river. There 
 was some little hurry and excitement displayed by the Huron 
 girls as they saw their companion, absent as they knew her to 
 have been at the close or night, issue from her dwelling as 
 tranquilly as if she had passed the night therein in customary 
 sleep, but they betrayed no indiscreet curiosity, no uttered 
 remarks even to her, much less to others, which would induce 
 any questions or remarks concerning her disappearance and 
 return. After awhile, however, when they were satisfied that 
 the suspicions of none of the chiefs pointed to the subject of 
 their own surmises, they all began to crowd around her, to 
 inquire into the cause and the meaning of the strange scene 
 which they had observed on board the canoe, and to tell her of 
 the departure of the Bald-Eagle on a long hunting-excursion, 
 which they all attributed unanimously to her peremptory rejec 
 tion of the young warrior s suit. 
 
 The Reed-shaken-by-the-wind replied as slightly and in 
 definitely as might be ; but her surprise and pleasure at the 
 unexpected and welcome departure of the chief, were too great 
 and too sincere to be disguised, much less concealed, and she 
 laughed as heartily and gayly as if she had not spent half the 
 preceding day and night in tears that would not be consoled, 
 when the girls described with faint mimicry the gloomy and sul 
 len disappointment with which the Bald-Eagle had stalked to 
 and fro among the lodges, from dewy eve well-nigh to midnight 
 in search of her, though he had been too cunning to ask any 
 overt questions, arid had departed without suffering any one of 
 
AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 the warriors to suspect the reasons of his going, or ascertain 
 ing where she was whose repulse had driven him to seek 
 consolation in the wild sports of the woods and waters 
 
 Hope cheerfully dawned , the poor girl s breast as she lis- 
 tened, and she fully believed that between shame at the un 
 manly part he had played -striking a woman before the eyes 
 many witnesses-and mortification at the unfavorable 
 reception of his addresses, he had abandoned the pursuit, and 
 taken th,s way of showing her that he had withdrawn himself 
 in the capacity of suitor, and she now felt that she could go 
 through the duty to which she had bound herself, not content 
 edly only, but gratefully, and with a good hope of favorable 
 and happy results. For she was a woman of strong mind and 
 energet.c will, and once convinced that her love was hopeless 
 rain, and unmaidenly, if not actually sinful and impious, she 
 was not one to suffer it to haunt her to her misery and degra 
 dation, but to tear it from her heart of hearts, even if the heart- 
 rings must needs break with the shock. 
 By the time that the few light feminine duties of the day 
 were performed, and the morning-meal prepared and taken, 
 began to announce that it was holyday, and to summon 
 the dusky worshippers to be present at the celebration of hi.* 
 mass m the chapel, whither the brethren were even now con 
 gregating ; and with their humble offerings, and innocent and 
 happy hearts, the poor Indian maidens hastened to meet their 
 spiritual advisers, and to do homage at the altar of grace 
 
 The service was performed, all shorn of the splendors of its 
 pompous and sublime ceremonial, a few home-made candles 
 only gleaming through the mist of incense collected from the 
 native gums and aromatic, of the forest, ministered by no 
 splendidly-attired priests in alt, and cope, and dalmatique, nor 
 harbmgered by the glorious swell of sacred music and the 
 deep diapason of the pealing organ, but it was heard by hum- 
 
THE CONFESSION. 377 
 
 ble and attentive ears, and garnered up in penitent and trust 
 ing hearts ; and it may well be that the little flock gathered 
 from the howling wilderness into the fold of the truth, was 
 found more acceptable in the eyes of the All-seeing than many 
 a wealthier and prouder congregation. After the masses were 
 ended, a few of the warriors and many of the younger girls 
 entered the confessional, and after recounting their simple 
 errors, and rehearsing their half-unconscious doubts, briefly re 
 ceived full absolution. But not till all beside had departed did 
 Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng enter the stall of the penitent, 
 so that no ear heard the deep sobs of shame and anguish with 
 which she rehearsed her sad but sinless tale, or marked the 
 suppressed groans of the strong-minded, energetic man who 
 listened to her artless speech ; but when they issued from the 
 chapel, all saw that the sweet maiden s face was radiant with 
 tranquil peace and serene happiness, while the high features 
 of the- Father Borromee were darker and more gloomy than 
 their wont. That night he kept vigils alone before the cross, 
 and the clang of the self-inflicted scourge was heard above the 
 " culpa mea" and the " ora pro nobt s" and the steps of the 
 high altar reeked red on the morrow with dark blood-gouts 
 from the lacerated flesh of the self-condemned and penitent 
 ascetic, who visited thus grievously upon himself the punish 
 ment of his unconscious error, hoping that therefore vengeance 
 would hold aloof from him hereafter, and the atonement be 
 accepted on high. 
 
378 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 DAYS had coursed onward until they became weeks, weeks 
 had been numbered until months had flown ; the deep blue 
 skies of July and August had exchanged their rich azure hue 
 for the soft golden lustre and mellow purple haze of Indian 
 summer ; the green leaves of the forest had put on the colors 
 of the rainbow, and reflected in the transparent waters of the 
 lake and its tributaries floated double, reality and semblance 
 indistinguishable. The wild-pigeons had ceased to obscure 
 the sun with the migrations of their countless myriads, the 
 wild ducks had come in by thousands and hundreds of thou 
 sands from the northward, and ever and anon in the early gray 
 of the dawning, and among the dank dews falling thick at even 
 tide, the hoarse " hawnking" of the innumerable phalanxes of 
 geese might be heard clamoring and clanging amid the clouds 
 as they oared their way through the thin, pallid air, with the 
 slow, circular sweep of their huge pinions, to their warm hy- 
 bernacula in the sounds and lagoons of the Atlantic waters, 
 and the tepid pools and evergreen morasses of the southern 
 Florida 
 
 The Iroquois, their autumnal hunts and fisheries ended, had 
 come in for the most part to the village, and absented them 
 selves now for days only, not for weeks, for the lake was al 
 most continually stirred into wrath by the northwestern gales, 
 and its surface was ploughed up into long, ridgy rollers, burst 
 ing and curling their white and foamy caps, and threatening 
 
PROVISIONS FOR WINTER. 379 
 
 destruction to stronger and more solidly-built vessels, if less 
 buoyant, than the fragile bark canoes of the Indians. 
 
 The wigwams, from the richest to the poorest, were well 
 provided with meat. Deer had been taken in abundance, 
 many bears had been brought in, ducks by hundreds and geese 
 by scores, with salmon-trout and white-fish by the quintal were 
 smoking at the fires of every lodge, even the poorest. The 
 storehouse and garners of the Mission were literally overflow 
 ing with the produce of the fields and gardens, blessed this 
 year with abundant crops, and with the flesh and fowl of the 
 forest, and the fish of the great waters, so that they could right 
 easily have braved the coming inclement season, heedless of 
 fresh supplies, not for themselves alone, but for the friendly 
 neophytes, should any chance or improvidence cause them to 
 fall short of provisions during the season of snows, when the 
 lakes are bound with fetters of thick-ribbed ice, and the forest 
 tracts buried in deepest snows, present no inducement to the 
 hunter to brave fatigue and famine in traversing their vacant 
 and inhospitable recesses, for the deer had already for the 
 most part gone southward, and moose and cariboo, the great 
 winter game of the northern wilderness, are not found general 
 ly to the west or southward of the great Canadian Ottawa. 
 
 In the meantime, all peacefully and happily had the days of 
 summer ebbed away over the heads of the unwarlike, and un 
 ambitious Jesuits, all calmly and bounteously had their labors 
 in the earlier seasons been repaid by the abundant ingatherings 
 of the rich autumn. The gardens still wore a gay aspect, for 
 the grapes, golden and purple, still adorned the vines with 
 clusters worthy of la belle France, and among the sere leaves 
 of the orchards glanced pippin as lustrous in their tints as the 
 most brilliant of fair Normandy, the land of sparkling cider 
 vats, sacred, above all others, to Pomona. The maize-fields 
 had yielded their abundance, and the great golden pumpkins 
 
380 AHSAHGUNUSHK XUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 had been gathered into the stores and root-houses, ample pro 
 vision for their stock of domestic animals during the rigors of 
 the approaching winter. 
 
 During the latter days many of the younger priests of the 
 order, and all the lay-brethren, as the fields no longer claimed 
 their labors or occupied their time, had given some hours of 
 each morning to the bold and perilous excitement of the chase, 
 which was not to them so much a sport, as a resource for the 
 maintenance of their tables and the clothing of their bodies, 
 and for they were not, as I have observed, home-keeping and 
 half-emasculated drones, like the dwellers of European con 
 vents, but bold, practical, energetic, well-disciplined, equally 
 fitted for the hardships of the wilderness and the intrigues of 
 polished cabinets, or the casuistry of rival churches great 
 had been their success, and well nigh invaluable their spoils 
 won in the forest. Many a lordly buck had been brought in. 
 many-antlered ; many a sturdy bear had contributed his massy 
 chine and huge hams to the flesh-pots and salting-tubs, and his 
 robes to the simple but efficient tanneries of the natives, and 
 as the days waned gradually more, and the mornings opened 
 late, and the evenings closed in early, the workshops gave em 
 ployment, the forge glowed, and the anvils rang, the labora 
 tories had their votaries, the library was crowded with noc 
 turnal students, pouring forth lore of every kind, manuscripts, 
 and plans, and maps ; histories, treatises, geology, natural sci 
 ences, casuistry, policy, and theology, all finding their several 
 authors, all going to swell the bulk of documents, which should 
 be. transmitted to Montreal, and thence across the broad At 
 lantic, with the departure of the spring caravan of voyageurs 
 and Indians, down the intricate water-courses and over the 
 rugged portages of the lake Nipissing and the roaring rapids 
 of the vast Ottowa. Alas ! that it was not so fated. 
 
 Nor in the interval of the Bald-Eagle s absence had things 
 
SELF-CONQUEST. 381 
 
 not gone well with the beautiful and bright, now joyous and 
 serene as ever, and as of old the charm of all, and seemingly 
 at least, the happiest of the happy ; for from the day which 
 had seen the departure of the young chief, and the confession 
 of her hopeless passion to the well-regulated and self-restrained 
 director of her conscience, she had felt herself liberated from 
 the persecution she had endured from the young Iroquois, had 
 ceased to brood over a passion half-imaginative and dangerous 
 only because it had been indulged and brooded over in silence 
 and solitude, and had so far at least eradicated it, that she felt 
 no warmer emotion toward her grave and pure-minded adviser, 
 than a child might feel toward a gentle and indulgent father, 
 or a much younger sister to a kind and devoted brother. And 
 he, as soon as he perceived that the mind of the maiden was 
 not really diseased, but only lightly touched by thick-coming 
 fancies, and emotions proceeded from a stricken imagination 
 rather than from a wounded heart, had demeaned himself to 
 ward her with so much quiet skill in the treatment of human 
 affections, not appearing to aVoid her or to consider that there 
 was anything wrong, but seeming to consider the whole rather 
 at an end so soon as it was confessed and absolution granted, 
 and bore himself so paternally, so gravely, and yet so benig- 
 nantly, that what might by a different line of conduct have 
 been exaggerated into a baneful, sinful, and unconquerable pas 
 sion, speedily declined into a pure, a genial, and a hallowed 
 affection, even as the fiery glow and consuming heat of a mid 
 summer s noon, mellows and melts. away into the soft and de 
 licious warmth of tranquil dewy eve, with the crescent moon 
 and holiest evening star replacing the intense and sultry day- 
 god. 
 
 And in their self-denial and self-conquest, both were happy, 
 he in his priestly wisdom and manly virtue, she in her inno 
 cence and maiden purity. Both had been tempted in some 
 
382 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSEXG. 
 
 sort, both had striven against the tempter, both had conquered, 
 and met each one the appropriate and sure reward which never 
 fails to follow self-resistance and self-conquest, the balm of a 
 tranquil spirit, the blessed consolation of a self-approving and 
 self-gratulating heart. 
 
 On a fitting opportunity, so soon as he perceived that she 
 was seriously and sincerely struggling with herself, he had re 
 lated to her much, more perhaps than he had ever done to 
 any human being, of the trials, the sorrows, the agonies, the 
 temptations, and the triumph of his past life. How he had 
 won fame and wealth, high name and rank on the battle-field, 
 only to lavish them on one, the fairest of her sex, but, alas ! 
 almost the frailest; how she had been his own all, as he 
 vainly dreamed, his own for a few short months of perfect 
 bliss and rapture ; how she had fallen from the way of virtue, 
 and become the merest castaway ; how in disgust and disap 
 pointment he had taken up the cross of Christ, and borne it 
 faithfully, until the seed sown in bitterness and misery bore 
 good fruit unto righteousness ; how in after-days she came to 
 him a penitent, unknowing that he to whom she came implo 
 ring heavenly pardon, had himself so much to forgive ; and 
 how it was the happiest moment of an unhappy life, when he 
 could believe her reconciled to man and to God, and pronounce 
 her absolution with an undoubting heart. She died, and his 
 love which had never faltered, though imperious honor forbade 
 him to indulge or display it, slept beside her in the grave of 
 the repentant sinner, illumining her memory and gilding her 
 ashes, like sunshine on a nameless monument. He told her 
 how, in after-days, it was his happy lot to fall in with the de 
 stroyer of his love, his honor, of all but his virtue and his rea 
 son, depressed as he was depraved, deep sunk in misery as in 
 crime ; how when vengeance was easy alike and certain, un 
 recognised himself he recognised his mortal foe, relieved his 
 
PROMISE OF PROTECTION. 383 
 
 wants, consoled his parting agonies, and abstained even from 
 heaping the coals upon his guilty head, by whispering, " Lo ! 
 I am he, whom thou didst rob of all that made life happy," but 
 suffered him in charity to pass away, supposing his kind bene 
 factor to be but another good Samaritan, who had ministered 
 to his necessities, and little suspecting that he was one who 
 might be regarded as the avenger of blood, soothing the death 
 bed of his heart s murderer. 
 
 She wept as the father calmly recited the tale of his own 
 grievous sorrows, arid as she perceived how bitter they had 
 been as compared with her own, and how light, in truth, were 
 her own annoyances and trials, she could not persist in obsti 
 nate and sullen grief, even had she been more inclined than 
 she indeed was to perversity of temper, but giving herself up 
 entirely to the strengthening influence of his right admonitions, 
 she took to herself fortitude with humility, and resignation 
 with hope, and soon and with little difficulty subdued her own 
 heart, and was once more as single-hearted and serene a 
 maiden as any within the sound of the silver bell of the Jesuits. 
 
 Touched by her docile, moreover, and deeply moved by the 
 earnest and enthusiastic will and spirit which lay concealed 
 under an exterior so artless, so affectionate and child-like, the 
 father Borromee had promised her, that in case of the return 
 of the Bald-Eagle, and the renewal on his part of attempt to 
 coerce or terrify her into an unwilling marriage > he w r ould use 
 his influence with the elder chiefs of the tribe to prevent the 
 consummation of sacrifice, and should remonstrance and re 
 buke prove ineffectual, that he would himself take her under 
 his protection, and set his absolute veto on the unpermitted 
 contract ; and calmed instantly by that promise she recovered 
 all her wonted cheer and merry lightness of heart, for of a 
 truth she believed his will to be irresistible, his authority over 
 the greatest chiefs of the most puissant tribes undoubted; and 
 
384 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 his power but little inferior to that of the omnipotent and om 
 nipresent Ruler, whose majesty and mightiness his eloquent 
 words had proclaimed to the people, and whose delegated au 
 thority he seemed to sway with a will so serene and steady, a 
 fortitude so perfect? and a benevolence so God-like. And 
 doubtless, when he promised, he believed himself certain of 
 ability to perform, nor doubted that his power was as absolute 
 over the minds and tempers of his Indians in matters temporal, 
 as it was over their souls in things spiritual. 
 
 Father Borromee, it must be remembered, was not the su 
 perior of the establishment by rank or by seniority, though in 
 all respects as regarded the governance of men s minds, the 
 practical affairs of the order, the domestic and political econ 
 omy of the mission, he was by far more eminently qualified 
 than the actual president, a much older man, deeply versed in 
 the lore and the tactics of the cloister, an able casuist, a subtle 
 theologist, arid an apt, courtier-like, soft-mannered politician 
 of courts and cabinets ; and, with the rare skill which the 
 Jesuits invariably brought to bear on all worldly matters, this 
 fact was at once acknowledged, and the whole practical and 
 physical management of the missions was attributed to and 
 performed by Father Borromee, who had therefore come to be 
 regarded by the Indians as in truth the great man ; while the 
 real president, living in abstraction and apart, dealing more 
 with books than with men, often employed in abstruse sciences, 
 which they regarded as magical, both in their causes and 
 effects, never taking any part in either the labors of the field 
 or the toils of the chase, and never, in fact, descending upon 
 the scene at all, nisi dignus vindice nodus, was looked upon 
 almost as a supernatural being, and supposed by some to be a 
 direct emanation from and representative of the Great Spirit. 
 
 Such was the position of affairs at the fort, and such the 
 circumstances of the various personages, when, in the last 
 
BALD-EAGLE S RUMORED RETURN. 385 
 
 days of October, without its being asserted that any one had 
 seen him or fallen in with his tracks, or with any signs of his 
 presence, it began to be whispered among the Indians that 
 the Bald-Eagle was in the neighborhood ; and what seemed 
 strange, the rumor was coupled to a singular and unusual sort 
 of excitement, not apparently unmingled with some sort of 
 blind apprehension, which might well degenerate into some 
 panic terror. 
 
 This rumor coming to the ears of Father Borromee, he 
 called some of the elder chiefs to council, and finding that the 
 tribe had been preparing their arms, and had even gone so far 
 as to post sentinels on several occasions, he applied himself 
 earnestly to inquire into the causes of their belief of the Bald- 
 Eagle s presence in the vicinity, and yet more, of their seem 
 ingly unaccountable apprehension of peril, since it was certain 
 that no hostile Indian tribe had their hunting-grounds, or any 
 permanent place of residence within a hundred leagues at least 
 of the fort on the Wye. Still, however, strange as it seemed 
 and fanciful, and altogether improbable that anything of the 
 kind should be brewing, the Jesuit was so well aware of the 
 singular combination of superstition and shrewdness which 
 exists in the Indian character, and of their marvellous instinc 
 tive faculty of foreseeing events ere they come to pass the 
 result, doubtless, of some inductive and reasoning process, 
 starting from certain facts known to themselves, and thence 
 working to conclusions, but that process one which either they 
 can not or will not explain that he would not give up the 
 matter without a painful and close investigation. He could 
 discover nothing, however, of the least moment. For every 
 one of the chiefs asserted positively, and in terms which ad 
 mitted of no qualification, that no tidings had been received in 
 any manner of the Bald-Eagle since the night of his departure, 
 that they had no suspicion where he was, whither he had 
 
 17 
 
386 AHSAI1GUXUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 gone, or what detained him so late at a distance from the hunt 
 ing-grounds of the tribe, and that, too, at a season when it 
 might be confidently expected that a few more days at farthest 
 would bring snow, and a week or two longer would close up 
 the lakes and rivers with icy chains, indissoluble until the re 
 turn of spring. Still they all stuck religiously to their opinion, 
 although they could give no earthly reason for their entertain 
 ing it. " That may be he very much near-by may be come 
 to-morrow may be next day." Nor did one of them fail to 
 assert his belief that " Something bad not far off may be bad 
 Indian coming." It was useless, of course, to argue with 
 them, and, in fact," the Jesuit was so much struck by the una 
 nimity and pertinacity with which they held fast to their be 
 lief, that he felt no inclination to argue them out of it, but 
 rather encoumged them to keep a good look-out, and even ad 
 vised Che setting of a nightly-watch, the distribution of the 
 arms and ammunition to the brethren and lay-brothers, and 
 even the loading of the wall-pieces nightly, precautions which 
 had not for a long period been adopted, such perfect peace and 
 tranquillity had ever existed in the neighborhood of the society, 
 but which he now justified by admitting his strong suspicion 
 that the Indians had in reality discovered some signs or tracks 
 which told them of peril at hand, although they did not choose 
 to disclose the sources of information. 
 
 A certain restless and uneasy feeling had circulated there 
 fore among the order, which really would seem often to be the 
 harbinger and precursor of groat events. The gates were 
 secured regularly, and watches planted and relieved at sunset, 
 and throughout the hours of darkness. The brothers slept 
 with weapons and ammunition ready to their hands, and never 
 went out even to work in the fields without arms slung at their 
 backs ; and yet, well entrenched, well supplied with provisions 
 and water, for there was a well within the precincts of the 
 
THE ALARM. 387 
 
 fort, well armed, well garrisoned, and, above all, provided with 
 artillery, which the Indians held in great awe, they had little 
 apprehension and less doubt of beating off any attack, should 
 one be made ; the more so that the season was so late that 
 it would scarcely be possible for an enemy to keep the field 
 after another month. 
 
 After some days of this wild suspense, on a dark and stormy 
 night in the early part of November, not very long after the 
 gates had been closed, all the dogs of the garrison began to 
 bay fiercely, and then to howl most lugubriously, although 
 there was no moon to excite them, nor any sounds that reached 
 the ears of the sentinels. Not long afterward, however, a 
 dripping sound, as if from a paddle incautiously and rapidly 
 wielded, was heard from the river, and was immediately suc 
 ceeded by a yell so startling and long-drawn, that all who 
 heard it were assured at the instant, that some tidings of 
 strange import were at hand ; and in less time than it takes to 
 describe it, the whole community was mustered and under 
 arms, in expectation of I know not what terrible and disas 
 trous tidings. Within a minute or two such a burst was heard 
 from the Indian camp of savage cries and whoops, that it was 
 very certain that something of note had occurred. In a mo 
 ment the whole village was afoot, fire-brands were gleaming 
 in all directions, and it was soon apparent that the Indians 
 were striking their tents, and dismantling their more permanent 
 abodes of all their valuables, which they were hastily em 
 barking on board their canoes as if by one consent. A minute 
 or two afterward a light was seen crossing the river, the splash 
 of paddles was heard, and four or five well-known Indians, 
 all chiefs of rank, came up the walk to the palisades, with 
 light-wood brands and weapons in their hands, asking imme 
 diate entrance. " Bald-Eagle come," said the principle speaker. 
 
388 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 " Bring heap news, let in quick, I tell you, not very much time 
 to lose." 
 
 The gates were thrown open quickly, and certainly there 
 stood the Bald-Eagle, and in very different plight from that in 
 which he had set forth. He was unarmed all but his knife, 
 and the lock and barrel of his broken carbine. His hair was 
 clotted with blood which had flowed from two or three gashes 
 in his head, and blood was oozing from two or three rents in 
 his buckskin hunting-shirt ; he looked fagged, too, and way 
 worn, but he did not seem broken or disheartened. His story 
 was brief, but alarming. Returning from a successful hunt 
 down the north shores of the lake, which he had coasted so 
 far down as to where Sarnia now stands at the commencement 
 of the river St. Clair, when within fifteen miles of home, load 
 ed with peltry, he had been surprised, when expecting nothing 
 less, by a party of Ojibwas, out upon a war-path, as he knew 
 from their being in their war-paint, and was taken without re 
 sistance, for to resist such numbers would have been in vain, 
 since they numbered, he said, no less than thirty war-canoes, 
 with not less than eight or ten warriors to each, and he esti 
 mated their force at not much less than three hundred men, 
 well-armed, at least two thirds of them carrying muskets of 
 English manufacture. Their very numbers, he added, had 
 rendered them careless, and he had contrived to make his 
 escape, though not without a sharp struggle with an out-lying 
 party, and had come on with all speed to warn the good fathers 
 of the coining peril, and to bring them his arm to aid in the 
 strife. The enemy would be upon them, he added, early in 
 the morning, and he advised the mustering of the whole tribe 
 within the fort, where he was confident that they could easily 
 repulse the enemy, and hold them at bay until such time as 
 cold arid want should compel them to decamp. He further 
 recommended the sending out of the sacramental-plate under 
 
BALD-EAGLE S TALE. 389 
 
 the care of some trusty person, who should bury it on some 
 of the islands, and conceal himself anywhere he best might 
 on the northwestern shore, or up the river Severn, as it was 
 certain that the Ojibwas would trust themselves no farther to 
 the northward at this season, and as they were only actuated 
 in their attack by the desire of gaining that rich booty. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MASSACRE. 
 
 WHILE the Bald-Eagle was speaking, Father Borromee never 
 withdrew his searching eyes for one instant from his face, and 
 when he had ended he subjected him to a close cross-exami 
 nation, for he very grievously suspected him, but he succeeded 
 in eliciting nothing, and it was not to be doubted that an ene 
 my was at hand, since he could have no possible object in the 
 invention of a falsehood which must be discovered within a 
 few hours. By this time, the whole tribe of the Iroquois were 
 at the gates imploring admittance for themselves, their chil 
 dren, their wives, and their baggage, and as the good faith of 
 the tribe in general was not to be doubted any more than the fact 
 that they were engaged in deadly hostilities with the Ojibwas, 
 they were of course instantly admitted, the women and chil 
 dren as guests, and in some degree as hostages, the men as 
 trusty and valorous allies. 
 
 The father Borromee took advantage of this diversion to 
 dismiss the chiefs under the care of the refectioner and the 
 brother who acted as chirurgeon, desiring the latter in the Iro 
 quois tongue to attend carefully to the hurts of the Bald-Eagle, 
 and adding a few words in Spanish directing him to delay his 
 
390 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 operations as much as possible, and by no means to permit 
 him to get abroad within an hour. When they were once 
 gone he proceeded to take counsel with the president, and 
 though he did not hesitate to express his belief that the Bald- 
 Eagle was a traitor, and in collusion with the enemy, and that 
 the advice given was for his own advantage, he still believed 
 it the best to- be taken. " Doubtless, he expected," the Jesuit 
 said, " to be employed himself in the matter, in which case he 
 would have at once given the spoil up to the Ojibwas, and 
 after disclosing to them our line of defence, betrayed us by 
 some cunning treason. But we will frustrate him," he added. 
 " If you will suffer me to go forth, father, on this mission, 1 
 will take with me only the Little Bear, whom I know for a 
 trusty and faithful Indian, and the girl Ahsahgunushk Numa- 
 mahtahseng, who can converse with me in Italian, and by 
 whom I may communicate with the Ojibwas if need be. The 
 plate and treasures I will bury below the water-mark on the 
 east end of the giant s grave, on a due east line from the largest 
 pine I can find, and a white stone which I will set up on the 
 shore. So shall you find it if aught of evil befall me. If God 
 grant me to return in life, I will enter by the secret passage 
 into the stone-tower to-morrow night at half an hour before 
 moon-rise ; so that three or four of the trustiest of the brothers 
 to hold the (Joor in hand and admit me at the signal. For the 
 rest, resist stoutly, put no trust in the Bald-Eagle, let him not 
 stir a yard without one of the brethren at his elbow, and shoot 
 him dead on the instant if he attempt to communicate with the 
 enemy, or do aught savoring in the least of treason. By God s 
 grace, we will frustrate this knave s treachery, until by means 
 of the maiden we may make firm peace with the enemy, 
 which I by no means despair of. Now give me thy blessing, 
 father, and speed me on my way, for by Heaven s aid, right 
 sure am I that this will be the better way." 
 
LEAVING THE FORT. 391 
 
 Some little opposition was made, on the pretended score of 
 unwillingness to expose so eminent and valuable a life to such 
 cruel risk, but in reality, because, knowing him to be the best, 
 the bravest, and the ablest leader of the whole order, they 
 wanted his presence within so sorely that they held themselves 
 barely able to dispense with it. His urgency, however, and 
 the necessity of the case prevailed, and he received the per 
 mission he required, and the persons he had selected as his 
 companions. To the girl alone was the object of their expe 
 dition intrusted, and she was appointed the bearer, with the 
 Jesuit s aid, of the coffer in which the relics and plate of the 
 order were secured. The young chief was content to follow 
 a leader whom he loved and revered so deeply as the father 
 Borromee, in blind obedience to his will, without inquiring 
 wherefore or whither, and had he doubted, the present which 
 he received before setting forth of a beautifully-finished Span 
 ish-barrelled carabine, with horn and pouch to correspond, and 
 a fine German hunting-knife with a buck-horn hilt, would have 
 hired him to follow any leader even to the gates of the tomb. 
 
 The Jesuit himself laid aside his robes, and appeared clad 
 from head to foot in a suit of fine buckskin accurately fitting 
 his fine form, and displaying a port and stature certainly better 
 fitted for a warrior than for a monk, to its best advantage. His 
 arms were superb, .and by the way he handled them it was 
 clear that he well knew how to use them. They consisted of 
 a long Spanish-barrelled gun, with the newly-invented wheel- 
 lock, two brace of ten-inch German pistols, a curved yataghan 
 of Damascus steel swinging on his left thigh, a stout Toledo 
 dagger in his belt, and an axe swung by the belt which sup 
 ported the horn and bullet-pouch across his shoulders. Even 
 Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng, proud to be selected from 
 all her tribe for such a duty, carried her bow and quiver, and 
 thus equipped, bearing the heavy coffer between them, they 
 
392 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUM AMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 issued from a secret wicket, in the back of the palisades, 
 opening upon the brook and ravine, along the course of which 
 they crept stealthily to its outlet into the river, whither the 
 girl soon paddled down a canoe from the wharf, unseen and 
 unsuspected, when they all embarked and dropped so silently 
 down the current, that they had been gone an hour before their 
 departure was discovered by any one, and then it was only de 
 tected on the Bald-Eagle s coming forth from the refectory, 
 when he perceived the absence of the Little-Bear, and soon 
 after found that the father Borromee was not to be seen that 
 evening, whence he at once suspected what had occurred, 
 though even then he overlooked the departure of the Reed- 
 shaken-by-the-wind, whom he believed to be somewhere with 
 in the buildings of the Mission. His first impulse was to 
 leave the fort and follow on their trail, but egress being per 
 emptorily refused to him, he saw at once that he was himself 
 suspected, and resigned himself with Indian stoicism to 
 what he knew must be, exulting inwardly in the sure triumph 
 of his iniquitous and treasonable schemes. 
 
 Before they had been missed within the fort, their canoe 
 had passed the mouth of the river, and entered the labyrinth of 
 shoals and shallows, overgrown with a luxuriant crop of wild- 
 rice, rising to a height of at least six feet above the surface, 
 and intersected with many narrow navigable channels, which, 
 are one of the peculiar features of the streams which debouch 
 into the lower end of the great Georgian bay. Here their 
 peril may be said to have commenced fairly, for from this 
 point onward they might at any moment fall upon the fleet of 
 their enemies, but they had concluded, and as it fell out, con 
 cluded wisely, that the Ojibwas being in such overwhelming 
 force, would scarcely hurry or attempt any forced surprise, 
 when they were assured, as the Jesuit never doubted that they 
 were assured, of treacherous aid from within the fort. He 
 
THE WATCH-FIRES. 393 
 
 judged, therefore, that they would encamp for the night, on 
 the western side of some of the many islets where their fires 
 would not be visible at the mouth of the Wye. He caused his 
 boat on this principle to be kept away into a deep bight of the 
 mainland on the left of the mouth of the river as you come 
 down, and running close along the coast within the shadows 
 of shore, until he reached and doubled a bold headland open 
 ing a deep bay indenting the land to the southward, from 
 which point of view he soon discovered no less than five 
 watch-fires, burning on the southwestern point of what is now 
 known as Present island, and by the aid of a small perspective- 
 glass, which he had brought with him, easily discerned the fig 
 ures of many savages moving and sitting around the blaze, and 
 interposing their dusky forms between his eye and the light. 
 
 His plan was now taken on the instant, or rather was de 
 cided, for it was that on which he had from the first deter 
 mined ; paddling as rapidly as he could into the deep bay, he 
 soon reached the rice-swamp which filled the bottom along the 
 shores, and after a little examination, struck the mouth of a 
 deep, narrow, sluggish stream which fell into it ; up this with 
 some labor they forced the canoe, until they reached the land, 
 which was overspread with a gigantic forest of tall hemlocks, 
 mingled with deciduous trees, and traversed by an Indian trace, 
 for there was a portage hence to the neighboring bay, now the 
 harbor of Penetanguishine, by which several miles of distance 
 can be saved in rounding the northern headland and working 
 their way southwardly. Here the canoe was taken out of 
 water, and the Indian balancing it easily upon his shoulder, 
 walked off through the woods at his usual swinging trot, fol 
 lowed by the priest, who, besides being encumbered with his 
 own arms and those of the Indian, was almost overloaded with 
 the ponderous coffer, and by the girl, who bore the paddles, a 
 shovel or two which had been brought along in the canoe. 
 
 17* 
 
394 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 Abour half an hour s walking brought them to the farther end 
 of the portage, upon the narrow and limpid basin of Penetan- 
 guishine, now the site of a flourishing village, with British 
 barracks and a naval station, but then the desolate and unfre 
 quented wilderness. 
 
 Here they lighted a small fire, in a deep hollow, surrounded 
 with underwood, which sheltered them entirely from view, and 
 eating a scanty meal of cooked provisions which they had 
 brought along with them, wrapped themselves in their blankets 
 and slept, or seemed to sleep through the night unmolested. 
 But the Jesuit slept not, but lay pondering on the perils of his 
 comrades, now almost fearing that his advice had not been the 
 wisest, and that their true policy would have been to have de 
 serted the fort for the moment after caching their valuables, and 
 to have run up northwardly along the shores, where the Ojib- 
 was would not dare to follow them. It was, however, obvi 
 ously too late to repent, and though he could not sleep, he lay 
 and rested himself until the stars paled in the sky to the east 
 ward, and a faint dappling of the heavens announced the com 
 ing of another day. Then he arose, and bidding his compan 
 ions prepare the cjanoe and get everything aboard, while he 
 himself hurried back to the other end of the portage to take one 
 iinal observation of the Indians, and when there he perceived 
 them, as he expected, with their barks already afloat and steer 
 ing directly across the bay for the embouchure of the Wye, a 
 fact which confirmed him fully of the treason of the Bald- 
 Eagle, since but for his information, it was impossible that the 
 strange savages could have so speedily discovered the mouth 
 of the river they sought. Filled with grievous and sad fore 
 bodings he now hastened back to his companions, and telling 
 them nothing of his fears, for he was resolved at all risks after 
 burying the treasure to return to his brethren, and if necessary 
 die with them, and feared some opposition from the Little-Bear, 
 
SOUNDS OF CONFLICT. 395 
 
 entered the birch canoe, steered down the placid inlet of Pene- 
 etanguishine, and thence re-entering the main waters of the 
 great Georgian bay, laid her course to the south-westward for 
 the truncated cone, shaped much like a steeple-crowned hat, 
 of the puritanic form, which was then and is to this day known 
 as the Giant s Grave. This conspicuous islet they reached long 
 before noon, and mooring the canoe to a paddle driven into the 
 extremity of a gravelly shoal at the eastern end of the island, 
 they laid aside their arms, and taking the shovels, the coffer, 
 and a white bowlder-stone which they had brought with them 
 from the last landing-place, and ascertaining the exact place 
 designated by the Jesuit, soon effected the concealment of the 
 treasure, beneath the gravel and beneath the water itself, and 
 that done, carefully and effectually removing all traces of their 
 temporary visit to the island mound, they betook themselves 
 homeward by the same way that they had come, reached the 
 shelter of the woods of Penetanguishine at an early hour of 
 the afternoon, and there reposed and finished their small stock 
 of provisions, until the gathering gloom of evening should ren 
 der it safe for them to return safely to the camp, and seek to 
 re-enter it. In those short days evening *soon came, and it 
 had hardly spread its dark mantl-e over the earth, calling the 
 nocturnal tribes of birds and insects into life and motion, before 
 they were again upon the waters, steering toward the well- 
 known mouth of the familiar river. 
 
 One thing, however, had greatly shaken the confidence of the 
 priest ; for some hours of the time during which they had lain 
 perdu in the woods nigh to Penetanguishine, the roar of the 
 artillery from the fort had been almost continuous, telling of a 
 sharp attack and stout resistance, arid at times even the rolling 
 rattle of the volleyed musketry had been distinctly audible. 
 On a sudden the roar and rattle had sunk at once, and all was 
 hushed and still alas, his foreboding heart! was hushed 
 
396 AHSAHGUNUSHK XUMAMAHTAHSENO. 
 
 and still for ever all save the groans of agony, all save the 
 yells of the frantic torturers, all save the booming of the terri 
 ble death-drums, and the appalling cadences of the scalp-whoop 
 and the death-halloo. By the time the moon was within a 
 little space of rising, the priest had landed on the northern 
 headland of the Wye, obedient to his promise, and after dis 
 missing the Indian, and bidding him look to his own safety for 
 he feared the worst was already over, he took his way accom 
 panied by the girl, who refused to leave him, maintaining that 
 she was in no danger from her own tribesmen, to the familiar 
 fort through the lone woodlands. 
 
 When he reached the spot, his worst fears were indeed re 
 alized. The mouth of the secret passage was forced violently 
 open, and it was evident that through it, detected of course by 
 the Bald-Eagle before his departure, the entrance of the ene 
 mies had been affected. A few steps more brought him to a 
 full view of the hideous scene of massacre and torture, but the 
 last act save one of the dread tragedy was completed. The 
 last save one of the brethren had sealed the testimony of his 
 faith with his innocent and pious blood ; a scathed pile and a 
 heap of ashes, interspersed with a few human bones, were the 
 sole monuments of their dreadful doom ; and long stood there 
 erect and grisly, mute evidences of the spot where the Jesuits 
 endured all the protracted horrors of the Indian torture, and 
 died invoking not vengeance, but peace and pardon on their 
 persecutors. 
 
 " Domine nunc dimittis," groaned the Jesuit, as he looked 
 on the dreadful sight. " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant to 
 depart in peace ;" and with a loud, clear voice he exclaimed, 
 " Fratres benedicite," his wonted salutation to his tribes-men, 
 and strode forward with uplifted arms from the shadows of the 
 forest into the open area, which was still lighted by the em 
 bers of the death-fires, around which the Indians were sitting, 
 
THE TORTURE. 397 
 
 wearied and worn out with the exhaustion of the past excite 
 ment. At this strange apparition many of them started to their 
 feet in wonder nigh akin to fear. But the Bald-Eagle recog 
 nised him at once, and leaping forward with a wild whoop of 
 triumph, seized him unresisting by the collar and dragged him 
 rudely forward. "This is the chief," he cried, "this is 
 the chief-medicine the evil-spirit of them all. Away with 
 him, brothers, to the stake. He is the seducer, too, of your 
 tribeswoman, Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng. To the stake 
 with him." 
 
 But as he spoke the girl herself glided forward and stood at 
 his elbow. 
 
 " It is a lie," she said. " It is a lie of the Iroquois. The 
 daughter of Chingwauk, the sister of Chingwaukonce, is no 
 castaway never seduced. It is a lie, cowardly Huron Buz 
 zard, Ahsahgunushk Numamahtahseng is white as the snow in 
 winter. That for your lie, foul traitor Huron !" and as she 
 spoke, she plunged a small knife at a single blow into the heart 
 of the traitor, that he dropped dead at her feet without a word 
 or sign. Then she flung the bloody knife into the circle, and 
 cried in her clear silver tones. " Blood for the honor of the 
 Ojibwa girl. Death to the liar and the traitor. Father, broth 
 er, has the Reed-shaken-by-the-wind done well ?" 
 
 A loud acclamation carried an assent to her words, and she 
 was instantly greeted by the kinsmen, and installed in her lost 
 station, as the daughter of the great chief, worthy of all dis 
 tinction and respect ; but no prayers, no arguments, no entreat 
 ies of hers could win the pardon of the Jesuit. He was tor 
 tured so felly, that the very manner of his death has come 
 down to these days by direct oral tradition of the perpetrators. 
 Necklaces of red-hot axe-heads were hung about his neck, gir 
 dles about his loins, till when his body was literally well nigh 
 burnt in twain, his living heart was ripped out of his bosom, 
 
398 AHSAHGUNUSHK NUMAMAHTAHSENG. 
 
 and flung palpitating in his face, while his agonized lips stijl 
 quivered with the last notes of the " De Profundis clamavi." 
 He died in his middle age, a true and undaunted soldier of the 
 church ; as he had battled in his youth true and undaunted 
 soldier of his king. His race was run, his duty done. Honor 
 to his memory, peace to his ashes ! 
 
 From that day never more did the Reed-shaken-by-the-wind 
 lift her gentle head, but faded like a flower withered by the 
 fierce noonday sun. Like lago, word she never spoke more, 
 but wandered mute and almost bereaved of reason around the 
 pile at which her teacher, her friend, and her savior, had died 
 in anguish intolerable, yet endured with the triumphant faith 
 and fortitude of a Christian martyr, and a French cavalier, until 
 death relieved, her, too, of the burthen and the weariness of too 
 long life. 
 
 On the following day the Little-Bear was captured and slain, 
 and with him perished the secret of the concealed treasures. 
 They are sought for often by both the Indians and the whites, 
 but never have been found, nor is it probable ever will be, since 
 the sole record of them exists in this veracious legend, and 
 even so the bowlder has been swept away, the pine-tree has 
 perished with age, and the place of the interment may be held 
 lost for ever. 
 
 Before the springtime returned with its flowers, the " Reed- 
 shaken-by-the-wind" slept by the banks of that fair river which 
 had so long afforded her a happy home among the good French 
 Jesuits. Myself, I have sat oftentimes on the low mound 
 which marks her resting-place, and have fancied as I heard 
 the wild wind mournfully rustling through the wild-rice beds, 
 that it murmured the soft accents of her name Ahsahgunushk 
 Numamahtahseng. 
 
 The race of the Iroquois has vanished from the earth, their 
 memory preserved alone by the pits which contain their bones 
 
THE RECORD. 
 
 scattered through the wild woods. Their language is no more 
 heard in their old places, for the Ojibwas dwell where they 
 dwelt of yore, and all that remains to give evidence concerning 
 the fall of the old French fort, is this humble record, and the 
 holy Christian creed which they professed, and which in after- 
 days their very murderers adopted. Magna est veritas et 
 pr&valebit. 
 
 The life of man is grass, and is cut down in a day and per- 
 isheth before the evening star ; the Truth of God is eternal, 
 and endureth for ever and ever. 
 
 THE END 
 
J. S. REDFIELD, 
 
 110 AND 112 KASSAU STREET, XE\V YORk, 
 
 HAS JUST PUBLISHED : 
 
 EPISODES OF INSECT LIFE. 
 
 By ACHETA DOMESTICA. In Three Series : I. Insects of Spring. 
 II. Insects of Summer. III. Insects of Autumn. Beautifully 
 illustrated. Crown 8vo., cloth, gilt, price $2.00 each. The same 
 beautifully colored after nature, extra gilt, $4.00 each. 
 
 " A book elegant enough for the centre table, witty enough for after dinner, and wi?e 
 enough for the study and the school-room. One of the beautiful lessons of this work ia 
 the kindly view it takes of nature. Nothing is made in vain not only, but nothing is 
 made ugly or repulsive. A charm is thrown around every object, and life suffused 
 through all. suggestive of the Creator s goodness and wisdom." ,V. Y. Evangelist. 
 
 " Moths, glow~worms, lady-birds, May-flies, bees, and a variety of other inhabitants of 
 the insect world, are descanted upon in a pleasing style, combining scientific information 
 with romance, in a manner peculiarly attractive." Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 " The book includes solid instruction as well as genial and captivating mirth. The 
 scientific knowledge of the writer ia thoroughly reliable." Examiner, 
 
 MEN AND WOMEN OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 By ARSENE HOUSSATE, with beautifully Engraved Portraits of 
 Louis XV., and Madame de Pompadour. Two volume 12mo. 
 450 pages each, extra superfine paper, price $2.50. 
 
 CONTENTS. Dufresny, Fontenelle, Marivaux, Piron, The Abbe" Prevost, Gentil-Bcrnard, 
 Florian, Boufflers, Diderot, Gretry, Riverol, Louis XV., Greuze, Boucher, The Van- 
 loos, Lantara, Watteau, La Motte, Dehle, Abbe Trublet, Buffon, Dorat, Cardinal de 
 Bernis, Crebillon the Gay, Marie Antoinette, Made, de Pompadour, Vade, Mile. Ca- 
 margo, Mile. Clairon, Mad. de la Popeliniere, Sophie Arnould, Cre"billon the Tragic, 
 Mile. Guimard, Three Pages in the Life of Dancourt, A Promenade in the Palais-Royal, 
 the Chevalier de la Clos. 
 
 "A more fascinating book than this rarely issues from the teeming pre?s. Fascina 
 ting in its subject ; fascinating in its style : fascinating in its power to lead the render into 
 castle-building of the most gorgeous nnd bewitching description." Courier ff Enquirer. 
 "This 13 a most welcome book, full of information and amusement, in the form of 
 memoirs, comments, and anecdotes. It has the style of light literature, with the use 
 fulness if the gravest It should be in every library, and the hands of every reader." 
 Boston Commonwealth. 
 
 " A BOOK OF BOOKS. Two deliciously spicy volumes, that are a perfect bonne buucfu 
 for TO epicure in reading. Home Journal. 
 
REDFIELD S NEW AN T D POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 PHILOSOPHERS AM) ACTRESSES. 
 
 By ARSENE HOUSSAYK. With beautifully-engraved Portraits ul 
 Voltaire and Mad. Parabere. Two vols.", 12mo, price $2.50. 
 
 "We have here the most charming: book we have read these many days, so 
 powerful in its fascination that we have beni held for hours from our Imperious Iftbort, 
 or needful slumbers, by the entrancing influence of its pages. One of the most desira 
 ble fruits of the prolific field of literature of the present season." Poland Eclectic. 
 
 " Two brilliant and fascinating we had almost taad, bewitching volumes, combi 
 ning information and amusement, the lightest gossip, with solid and serviceable wis 
 dom." Yankee Blade. 
 
 "It is a most admirable book, full of originality, wit, information and philosophy. 
 Indeed, the vividness of the book is extraordinary. The scenes and descriptions are 
 absolutely life-like." Southern Literary Gazette,. 
 
 "The works of the present writer are the only ones the spirit of whree rhetoric does 
 justice to those times, and in fascination of description and stylo equal the fascinations 
 they descant upon." New Orleans Commercial Bulletin. 
 
 " The author is a brilliant writer, and serves up his sketches in a sparkling manner." 
 Christian Freeman. 
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT UNDER THE PHARAOHS. 
 By JOHN KENDRICK, M. A. In 2 vols., 12rao, price $2.50. 
 
 "No work has heretofore appeared suited to the wants of the historical student, 
 which combined the labors of artists, travellers, interpreters and critics, during the 
 periods from the earliest records of the monarchy to its final absorption in the empire 
 of Alexander. This work supplies this deficiency." Olive Branch. 
 
 "Not only the geography and political history of Egypt under the Pharaohs are 
 given, but we are furnished with a minute account of the domestic manners and cus 
 toms of the inhabitants, their language, laws, science, religion, agriculture, navigation 
 and commerce. 1 Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 " These volumes present a comprehensive view of the results of the combined labors 
 of travellers, artists, and scientific explorers, which have effected so much during the 
 present century toward the development of Egyptian archaeology and history." Jour 
 nal of Commerce. 
 
 " The descriptions are very vivid and one wanders, delighted with the author, through 
 the land of Egypt, gathering at every step, new phases of her wondrous history, and 
 ends with a more intelligent knowledge than be ever before had, of the land of the 
 Pharaohs." American Spectator. 
 
 COMPARATIVE PHYSIOGNOMY; 
 
 Or Resemblances between Men and Animals. By J. W. REDFIELD> 
 M. D. In one vol., 8vo, with several hundred illustrations. 
 price, $2.00. 
 
 Dr. Redfield has produced a very curious, amusing, and instructive book, curious 
 in its originality and illustrations, amusing in the comparisons and analyses, and in 
 structive because it contains very much useful information on a too much neglected 
 subject. It will be eagerly read and quickly appreciated." National jEgis. 
 
 "The whole work exhibits a good deal of scientific research, intelligent observation, 
 and ingenuity." Daily Union. 
 
 " Highly entertaining even to those who have little time to study the science." 
 Detroit Daily Advertiser. 
 
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 information, and those who read lor amusement. For its originality and entertaining 
 character, we commend it to our readers." Albany Express. 
 
 " It is overflowing with wit, humor, and originality, and profusely illustrated. The 
 whole work is distinguished by vast research and knowledge." Knickerbocker. 
 
 "The plan is a novel one ; the proofs striking, and must challenge the attention of the 
 curious." Daily Advertiser. 
 
REDFIELDS NEW AND POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 POETICAL WORKS OF FITZ-GREENE HALLECK. 
 
 New and only Complete Edition, containing several New Poems, 
 together with many now first collected. One vol., 12mo., price 
 one dollar. 
 
 "Halleck is one of the brightest stars in our American literature, and his name is 
 l:ke a household word wherever the English language is spoken." Albany Express. 
 
 "There are few poems to lie frmnd^ in any language, thnt surpass, in beauty of 
 thought and structure, some of these." Boston Commonwealth. 
 
 " To the numerous admirers of Mr. Halleck, this will be a welcome book ; for it is a 
 characteristic desire in human nature to have the productions of our favorite authors 
 in an elegant and substantial form." Christian Freeman, 
 
 " Mr. Halleck never appeared in a better dress, and few poets ever deserved a better 
 one." Christian Intelligencer. 
 
 THE STUDY OF WORDS. 
 By Archdeacon R. C. TRENCH. One vol., 12mo., price 75 cts. 
 
 " He discourses in a truly learned and lively manner upon the original unity of lan 
 guage, and the origin, derivation, and history of words, with their morality and sep 
 arate spheres of meaning." Evening p-ft 
 
 " This is a noble tribute to the diviw faculty of speech. Popularly written, for use 
 as lectures, exact in its learning, and poetic in its vision, it is a book at once for the 
 scholar and the general reader." New York Evangelist. 
 
 " It is one of the most striking and original publications of the day, with nothing of 
 hardness, dullness, or dryness about it, but altogether fresh, lively, and entertaining." 
 Boston Evening Traveller. 
 
 BRONCHITIS, AND KINDRED DISEASES. 
 
 In language adapted to common readers. By W. W. HALL, M. D. 
 
 One vol., 12 mo, price $1.00. 
 
 " It is written in a plain, direct, common-sense style, and is free from the quackery 
 which marks many of the popular medical books of the day. It will prove useful to 
 those who need it " Central Ch. Herald. 
 
 " Those who are clergymen, or who are preparing for the sacred calling, and public 
 speakers generally, should not fail of securing this work." Ch. Ambassador. 
 
 " It is full of hints on the nature of the vital organs, and does away with much super 
 stitious dread in regard to consumption." Greene County Whig. 
 
 "This work gives some valuable instruction in regard to fooi and hygienic influ 
 ences." Nashua Oasis. 
 
 KNIGHTS OF ENGLAND, FRANCE, AND SCOTLAND. 
 By HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. One vol., 12mo., price $1.25. 
 
 " They are partly the romance of history and partly fiction, forming, when blended, 
 portniitures, valuable from the correct drawing of the times they illustrate, and interest- 
 ing from their romance." Albany Knickerbocker. 
 
 " Thr.-y ore spirit-stirring productions, which will be read and admired by all who 
 are plensed with historical tales written in a vigorous, bold, and dashing style." Boston 
 Journal. 
 
 " These legends of love and chivalry contain some of the finest tales which the 
 graphic and powerful peu of Herbert has yet given to the lighter literature of the day." 
 -Detroit Free Tress. 
 
REDFIELD S NEW AND POPULAR PUBLICATIONS 
 
 LYRA, AND OTHER POEMS. 
 By ALICE CAREY. In one volume, 12mo, cloth, price 75 cts. 
 
 "Whether poetry be defined as the rhythmical creation of beauty, as passion or elo 
 quence in harmonious numbers, or as thought and feeling manifested by processes of 
 the imagination, Alice Carey is incontestably and incomparably the first living American 
 poetess fresh, indigenous, national rich beyond precedent in suitable nnd sensuous im 
 ageryof the finest and highest qualities of feeling, and puch powers of creation as the; 
 Almighty has seen fit to bestow but rarely or in far-separated countries." Bosl. Trans. 
 
 "The genuine inspiration of poetic feeling, . . . replete with tenderness and beauty, 
 earnestness and truthful simplicity, and all the attributes of a powerful imagination and 
 Vivid fancy. We know of no superior to Miss Carey among the female authors of this 
 country." New York Journal of Commerce. 
 
 " Alice Carey s book is full of beautiful thoughts; there is draught after drausht of, 
 pure pleasure for the lover of eweet, tender fancies, and imagery which caplhates 
 while it enforces truth." Neio York Courier and Inquirer. 
 
 " Lyra and other Poems, just published by Redfield, attracts everywhere, a remark 
 able degree of attention. A dozen of the leading journals, and many eminent critics, 
 have pronounced the authoress the greatest poetess living." New York Mirror. 
 
 LILLIAN, AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 By WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED. Now first Collected. One 
 Volume I2mo. Price One Dollar. 
 
 " A timely publication is this volume. A more charming companion (in the shape of 
 a book) can scarcely be found for the summer holydays." New York Tribune. 
 
 " They are amusing sketches, gay and sprightly in thoir character, exhibiting great 
 facility of composition^ and considerable powers of satire." Hartford Courant. 
 
 " There is a brilliant play of fancy in Lillian. and a moving triidornep.s in Josephine. 
 for which it would be hard to find equals. We welcome, therefore, this first collected 
 edition of his work*." Albany Express. 
 
 As a writer of vers de soriete he is pronounced to be without an equal among Eng 
 lish authors." Syracuse Daily Journal. 
 
 " The author of this volume was one of the most fluent and versatile English poets that 
 have shone in the literary world within the last century. His versification is astonish- 
 in sly easy and airy, and his imagery not less wonderfully graceful and aerial." Albany 
 Stat.e Register. 
 
 THE CAVALIERS OF ENGLAND; 
 
 Or, the Times of the Revolutions of 1642 and 1688. By HENRY 
 WILLIAM HERBERT. One vol., 12mo., price $1.25. 
 
 " They are graphic stories, and in the highest degree attractive to the imagination as 
 well as instructive, and can not fail to be popular." Commercial. 
 
 " These tales are written in the popular author s best style, and give us a vivid and 
 thrilling idea of the custom.? and influences of the chivalrous ase." Christian Freeman. 
 
 " His narrative is always fun of great interest ; his descriptive powers are of an un 
 common order ; the romance of history loses nothing at his hands ; he paints with the 
 power, vigor, and effect of a master." The Times. 
 
 " They bring the past days of old England vividly before the reader, and impress upon 
 th-> mind with indelible force, the living images of the puritans as well as the cavalier?, 
 whose earnest character and noble deeds lend such a lively interest to the legends of 
 the times in which they lived and fought, loved and hated, prayed and revelled? Nev- 
 ark Daily. 
 
REDFIELD S NEW AND POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 CLOVERNOOK; 
 
 Or, Recollections of our Neighborhood in the West. By ALICE 
 CARKY. Illustrated by DARLEY. One vol., 12mo., price $1.00. 
 (Third edition.) 
 
 " Tn this volume there is a freshness which perpetually chflrms the reader. You seem 
 t? be made free of western homes at once." Old Colony Memorial. 
 
 " Thpy bear the true stamp of genius simple, natural, truthful and evince a keen 
 sense of the humor and pathos, of the comedy and tragedy, of life in the country." J 
 Q Wkittier. 
 
 DREAM-LAND BY DAY-LIGHT: 
 
 A Panorama of Romance. By CAROLINE CHESEBIIO . Illustrated 
 by DARLEY. One vol., 12mo., price $1.25. (Second edition.) 
 
 " These simple and beautiful stories are nil highly endued with an exquisite percep 
 tion of natural beauty, with which is combined an appreciative sense of its relation to 
 the highest moral emotions." Albany State Register. 
 
 " Gladly do we greet this floweret in the field of our literature, for it is fragrant with 
 sweet and bright with hues that mark it to be of Heaven s own planting." Courier and 
 Enquirer. 
 
 "There is a depth of sentiment and feeling not ordinarily met with, and some of the 
 noblest faculties and affections of man s nature are depicted and illustrated by the skil 
 ful pen of the authoress." Churchman. 
 
 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 By WILLIAM E. AYTOUN, Professor of Literature and Belles-Let- 
 tres in the University of Edinburgh and Editor of Blackwood a 
 Magazine. One vol., 12mo. cloth, price $1.00. 
 
 " Since Lockhart and Macaulay s ballads, we have had no metrical work to be com 
 pared in spirit, vigor, and rhythm with this. These ballads knbtdy and embalm the 
 chief historical incidents of Scottish history literally in thoughts that breathe and 
 words that burn. They are full of lyric energy, graphic description, and genuine feel 
 ing." Home Journal. 
 
 " The fine ballad of Montrose in this collection is alone worth the price of the book. 
 lloston Transcript. 
 
 THE BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 By BON GAULTIER. One volume, 12mo.,. cloth, price 75 cents. 
 
 "Here is a book for everybody who loves classic fun. It is made up of ballads of 
 all sorts, each a capital parody upon the style of some one of the best lyric writers of 
 the time, from the thundering versification of Lockhart and Macaulay to the sweetest 
 and simplest strains of Wordsworth and Tennyson. The author is one of the first 
 scholars, and one of the most finished writers of the day, and this production is but the 
 frolic of his genius in play-time "Courier and Enquirer. 
 
 " We do not know to whom belongs this nom de plume, but he is certainly a humcrirt 
 of no common powrr." Providence Journal. 
 
REDFIELD S NEW AND POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 ISA, A PILGRIMAGE. 
 By CAROLINE CHESEBRO . One vol., 12mo., cloth, price $1.00. 
 
 4i The Pilgrimage is fraught throughout with scenes of thrilling interest romantic, 
 yet possessing a naturalness that seems to stamp them as real ; the style is flowing and 
 easy, chaste and beautiful." Troy Daily Times. 
 
 Miss Chesebro" is evidently a thinker she skims not the mere surface of life, hut 
 plunges boldly into the hidden mysteries of the spirit, by which she is warranted in 
 milking her startling revelations of human passion." Christian Freeman. 
 
 "There comes out in this book the evidence of an inventive mind, a cultivated taste, 
 an exquisite sensibility, and a deep knowledge of human nature." Albany Argus. 
 
 " It is a charming book, pervaded by a vein of pure ennobling thought." Troy Whig. 
 
 " There is no one who will doubt that this is a courageous and able work, displaying 
 genius and depth of feeling, and striking at a high and noble aim " N. Y. Evangtlist. 
 
 " There is a fine vein of tenderness running through the story, which is peculiarly 
 une of passion and sentiment." Arthur s Home Gazette. 
 
 LECTURES AND MISCELLANIES. 
 BY HENRY JAMES. One vol., 12mo., cloth, price $1.25. 
 
 "A series of essays by one of the most generous thinkers and sincere lovers of truth 
 in the country. He looks at society from an independent point of view, and with the 
 noblest and most intelligent sympathy." Hnme Journal. 
 
 "This is the production of a mind richly endowed of a very peculiar mould. All 
 will concede to him the merit of a vigorous and brilliant intellect." Albany Argus. 
 
 A perusal of the essays leads us to thi\k, not merely because of the idt as which 
 they contain, but more because the ideas are earnestly put forth, and the subjects dis 
 cussed are interesting and important to every one." Worcester National &gis. 
 
 " They have attracted much attention both here and in Europe, where the author ia 
 considered as holding a distinctive and prominent position in the school of modern 
 philosophy." Albany Atlas. 
 
 "The writer wields a masterly and accurate pen, and his, style is good." Boston 
 Olive Branch. 
 
 " It will have many .readers, and almost as many admirers." N. Y. Times. 
 
 NAPIER S PENINSULAR WAR. 
 
 History of the War in the Peninsula, and in the South of France, 
 from the Year 1807 to 1814. BY W. F. P. NAPIER, C. B., Co]. 
 43d Reg., &c. Complete in one vol., 8vo., price $3.00. 
 
 "We believe the Literature of War has not received a more valuable augmrntr.tion 
 this century than Col. Napier s justly celebrated work. Though a gallant combatant in 
 the field, he is an impartial historian." Tribune. 
 
 " NAPIER S History, in addition to its superior literary merits and truthful fidelity, 
 presents strong claims upon the attention of all American citizens ; because the author 
 is a large-souU-d philanthropist, and an inflexible enemy to ecclesiastical tyranny and 
 secular despots." Port. 
 
 " The excellency of Napier s History results from the writer s happy talent for im 
 petuous, straight-forward, soul-stirring narrative and picturing forth of characters 
 The military manoeuvre, march, and fiery onset, the whole whirlwind vicissitudes o* 
 the desperate fight, he describes with dramatic force." Merchants Magazine. 
 
REDFIELD S NEW AND POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE MASTER BUILDER; 
 
 Or, Life in the City. By DAY KELLOGG LEE, author of " Sum- 
 merfield, or Life on the Farm." One vol., 12mo, price $1.00. 
 
 "He is a powerful and graphic writer, and from what we have seen of the pages of 
 the Master Builder, it is a romance of excellent aim and success." Stole Register. 
 
 " Tho Master Builder is the master production. It is romance into which is instilled 
 the reality of life: and incentives are put forth to noble exertion and virtue. The story 
 is pleasing almost fascinating ; the moral is pure arid undefiled." Daily Times. 
 
 "Its description.-) are, many of them, strikingly beautiful ; commingling in good pro 
 portions, the witty, the grotesque, the pathetic, and the heroic. It may be read with 
 protit as well as pleasure." Argus. 
 
 "The work before us will commend itself to the masses, depicting as it does most 
 graphically the struggles and privations which await the unknown and uncared-for 
 Mechanic in his journey through life. It is what might be called a romance, but not of 
 love, jealousy and revenge order." Lockport Courier. 
 
 " The whole scheme of the story is well worked up and very instructive." Albany 
 Express. 
 
 >0 
 
 GRISCOM ON VENTILATION. 
 
 The Uses and Abuses of Air: showing its Influence in Sustaining 
 Life, and Producing Disease, with Remarks on the Ventilation 
 of Houses, and the best Methods of Securing a Pure and Whole 
 some Atmosphere inside of Dwellings, Churches, Workshops, &c. 
 By JOHN H. GRISCOM, M. D. One vol. 12rao, $1.00. 
 
 "This comprehensive treatise should be read by all who wish to secure health, 
 and especially by those constructing churches, lecture-rooms, school-houses, &c. It 
 is undoubted, that many diseases are created and spread in consequence of the little 
 attention paid to proper ventilation. Dr. G. writes knowingly and plainly upon this all- 
 important topic." Newark Advertiser. 
 
 " The whole hook is a complete manual of the subject of which it treats ; and wo 
 venture to say that the builder or contriver of a dwelling, school-house, church, tin a- 
 tre, ship, or steamboat, who neglects to inform bimseli of the momentous truths it 
 asserts, commits virtually a crime aain?t society." N. Y. Metropolis. 
 
 " When shall we learn to estimate" at their proper value, pure water and pure air, 
 which God provided for man before he made man, and a very long time before he 
 permitted the existence of a doctor "> We commend the Uses and Abuses of Air to our 
 renders, assuring them that they will find it to contain directions for the ventilation of 
 dwellings, which every one who values health and comfort should put in practice." 
 IT. Y. Dispatch. 
 
 HAGAR, A STORY OF TO-DAY. 
 
 By ALICE CAREY, author of " Clovernook," " Lyra, and Other 
 Poems," &c. One vol., 12mo, price $1.00. 
 
 A story of rural and domestic life, abounding in humor, pathos, and that natural 
 ness in character and conduct which made Clovernook so great a favorite last season. 
 Pas.-Rires in Ilagar are written with extraordinary power, its moral is striking and 
 just, and the book will inevitably be one of the most popular productions of the sea 
 son." 
 
 "She has a fine, rich, and purely original genius. Her country stories are almost 
 unequaled." Knickerbocker Magazine 
 
 " The Times speaks of Alice Carey as standing at the head of the living female wri 
 ters of America. We go even farther in our favorable judgment, and express the opin 
 ion that among those living or dead, she has had no equal in this country ; and we know 
 of few in the annals of English literature who have exhibited superior gifts of real po 
 etic genius." Th (Portland, Me.) Eclectic. 
 
CCNTEMPOEABY BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 OR SKETCHES OF LIVING NOTABLES, 
 
 AUTHORS ENGINEERS PHILANTHROPISTS 
 
 ARCHITECTS JOURNALISTS PREACHERS 
 
 ARTISTS MINISTERS SAVANS 
 
 COMPOSERS MONARCHS STATESMEN 
 
 DEMAGOGUES NOVELISTS TRAVELLERS 
 
 DIVINES POLITICIANS VOYAGERS 
 
 DRAMATISTS POETS WARRIORS 
 
 In One Vol., I2mo, containing nearly Nine Hundred Biograph* 
 ical Sketches PRICE $1.50. 
 
 " I am glad to learn that you are publishing this work. It is precisely that kind of 
 information thnt every public and intelligent man desires to see, especially in reference 
 to the distinguished men of Europe, but which I have found it extremely difficult to 
 obtain." Extract from a Letter of the President of the United States to the publisher. 
 
 In its practical usefulness this work will supply a most important desideratum." 
 Courier ff Enquirer. 
 
 It forms a valuable manual for reference, especially in the American department, 
 which WR can not well do without ; we commend it to the attention of our reading 
 public. "Tribune. 
 
 "Just the book we have desired a hundred times, brief, statistical and biographical 
 sketches of men now living, in Europe and America." New York Observer. 
 
 " It Is a book of reference which every newspaper reader should have at his elbow 
 os indispensable as a map or a dictionary and from which the best-informed will de 
 rive instruction and pleasure." Erangelist. 
 
 " This book therefore tills a place in literature ; and once published, we do not seo 
 how any one could do without it." Albany Express. 
 
 "It is evidently compiled with great care and labor, and every possible means seems 
 to have been used to secure the highest degree of correctness. It contains a great deal 
 of valuable information, and is admirable as a book of reference." Albany Argus. 
 
 "It is, to our notion, the most valuable collection of contemporary biogrnphies yet 
 made in this or any other country. The author acknowledges that its compilation was 
 a labor of care and responsibility. We believe him, and we give him credit lor hav 
 in<r executed that labor after a fashion that will command general and lasting approv 
 al." Sunday Times, and Noah s Wetkly Mtssejiger. 
 
 " This is one of the most valuable works lately issued valuable not only for general 
 reading and study, but as a book oi reference. It is certainly the fullest collection of 
 contemporary Biographies yet made in this country." Troy Daily Times. 
 
 " This is emphatically a book worthy of the name, and will secure an extended pop 
 ularity." Detroit Daily Advertiser. 
 
 "A book of reference unequalled in either value or interest. It is indeed a grand sup 
 plement and appendix to the modern histories, to the reviews, to the daily newspapers 
 a book which a man anxious to be regarded as intelligent and well-informed, can no 
 more do without than a churchman can do without his prayer book, a sailor his navi 
 gator, or a Wall street man his almanac and interest tables/ New York Day Book. 
 
 "The volume once known will be found indispensable, and will prove a constant 
 rource of information to readers at lurg,;." rV. Y. Reveille. 
 
 " For a book of reference, this volume will recommend itself as an invaluable com 
 panion in the library, office, and studio." Northern llitdgct. 
 
 " It is a living breathing epitome of the day, a directory to that wide phantasmagoria 
 we call the world." Wall Street Journal. 
 
 "We know of no more valuable book to authors, editors, statemen, and all who 
 would be up with the time, than this." Spirit of the Times. 
 
 " Men of all nations, creeds and parties, appear to be treated in a kindly spirit. The 
 work will be found a useful supplement to the ordinary biographical dictionaries." 
 Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 "The value of such a work can scarcely be over-estimated. To the statesman and 
 philanthropist, as well as the scholar and business man, it will be found of great con 
 venience as a reference book, and must soon be considered as indispensable to a library 
 aa Webster s Dictionary." Lockport Courier. 
 

 
1529858 
 
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