iiH! y* MYoNo -A, ^Vi 6 FOR USE OF Mh> FRIENDS W CALJB> S. A. - PROPERTY OF - SEAMEN'S CHURCH INSTITUTE OF LOS A.NGELES SAN PEDRO. - - - - CALIFORNIA A BOOK GOLDEN DEEDS "Sv "I have done that which was my duty to do.'' Frontispiece. A BOOK OF GOLDEN DEEDS OF ALL TIMES AND ALL LANDS GATHERED AND NARRATED BY THE AUTHOR OF THE "HEIR OF REDCLYFFE" BOSTON 1) LOT II U O P CO M P A N Y 1 HANKI.IN AXl) JIAWI.KY STKKKT8 GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN THAN THIS, THAT HE LAY DOWN HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIEND. PREFACE. AS the most striking lines of poetry are the most hackneyed, because they have grown to be the common inheritance of all the world, so many of the most noble deeds that earth can show have become the best known, and enjoyed their full meed of fame. Therefore it may be feared that many of the events here detailed, or alluded to, may seem trite to those in search of novelty ; but it is not for such that the collec- tion has been made. It is rather intended as a treasury for young people, where they may find minuter particulars than their abridged histories usually afford of the soul-stirring deeds that give life and glory to the record of events ; and where also other like actions, out of their ordi- nary course of reading, may be placed before them, in the trust that example may inspire the spirit of heroism and self-devotion. For surely vi Preface. it must be a wholesome contemplation to look on actions, the very essence of which is such entire absorption in others that self is not so much renounced as forgotten ; the object of which is not to win promotion, wealth, or suc- cess, but simple duty, mercy, and loving-kind- ness. These are the actions wrought, " hoping for nothing again," but which most surely have their reward. The authorities have not been given, as for the most part the narratives lie on the surface of history. For the description of the Coli- saeum, I have, however, been indebted to the Abbe" Gerbet's Rome Chretienne ; for the Housewives of Lowenburg, and St. Stephen's Crown, to Freytag's Sketches of German Life ; and for the story of George the Triller, to Mr. Mayhew's Germany. The Escape of Attalus is narrated (from Gregory of Tours) in Thierry's " Lettres sur 1'Histoire de France " ; the Rus- sian officer's adventures, and those of Prascovia Lopouloff, the true Elizabeth of Siberia, are from M. le Maistre ; the shipwrecks chiefly from Gilly's " Shipwrecks of the British Navy " j the Jersey Powder Magazine from the " Annual Register," and that at Ciudad Rodrigo, from the traditions of the $2d Regiment Preface. vii There is a cloud of doubt resting on a few of the tales, which it may be honest to mention, though they were far too beautiful not to tell. These are the details of the Gallic occupation of Rome, the Legend of St. Genevieve, the Letter of Gertrude von der Wart, the stories of the Keys of Calais, of the Dragon of Rhodes, and we fear we must add, both Nelson's plan of the battle of the Nile, and likewise the exact form of the heroism of young Casabianca, of which no two accounts agree. But it was not possible to give up such stories as these, and the thread of truth there must be in them has developed into such a beautiful tissue, that even if unsubstantial when tested, it is surely delight- ful to contemplate. Some stories have been passed over as too devoid of foundation, in especial that of young Henri, Duke of Nemours, who, at ten years old, was said to have been hung up with his little brother of eight in one of Louis XL's cages at Loches, with orders that two of the children's teeth should daily be pulled out and brought to the king. The elder child was said to have insisted on giving the whole supply of teeth, so as to save his brother ; but though they were certainly imprisoned after their father's execu- viii Preface, tion, they were released after Louis's death in a condition which disproves this atrocity. The Indian mutiny might likewise have sup- plied glorious instances of Christian self-devo- tion, but want of materials has compelled us to stop short of recording those noble deeds by which delicate women and light-hearted young soldiers showed, that in the hour of need there was not wanting to them the highest and deep- est " spirit of self-sacrifice." At some risk of prolixity, enough of the sur- rounding events have in general been given to make the situation comprehensible, even with- out knowledge of the general history. This has been done in the hope that these extracts may serve as a mother's storehouse for reading aloud to her boys, or that they may be found useful for short readings to the intelligent, though uneducated classes. CONTENTS. PAGE WHAT is A GOLDEN DEED? i THE STORIES OF ALCESTIS AND ANTIGONE . 11 THE Cur OF WATER 17 How ONE MAN HAS SAVED A HOST . . 23 THE PASS OF THERMOPYL/E 34 THE ROCK OF THE CAPITOL . . . . 45 THE Two FRIENDS OF SYRACUSE ... 58 THE DEVOTION OF THE DECII ... 63 REGULUS 71 THE BRAVE BRETHREN OF JUDAH ... 78 THE CHIEF OF THE ARVERNI .... 88 WITHSTANDING THE MONARCH IN HIS WRATH 98 THE LAST FIGHT IN THE COLIS/EUM . . .105 THE SHEPHERD GIRL OF NANTERRE . . 115 LEO THE SLAVE 121 THE BATTLE OF THE BLACKWATER ... 135 GUZMAN EL BUENO 142 FAITHFUL TILL DEATH 147 x Contents. WHAT is BETTER THAN SLAYING A DRAGON . 154 THE KEYS OF CALAIS 161 THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH 174 THE CONSTANT PRINCE 180 THE CARNIVAL OF PERTH 187 THE CROWN OF ST. STEPHEN .... 195 GEORGE THE TRILLER 205 SIR THOMAS MORE'S DAUGHTER . . . 217 UNDER IVAN THE TERRIBLE .... 226 FORT ST. ELMO 241 THE VOLUNTARY CONVICT 253 THE HOUSEWIVES OF LOWENBURG . . . 260 FATHERS AND SONS 268 THE SOLDIERS IN THE SNOW .... 280 GUNPOWDER PERILS 285 HEROES OF THE PLAGUE 296 THE SECOND OF SEPTEMBER .... 309 THE VENDEENS 318 THE FAITHFUL SLAVES OF HAITI . . . 339 THE PETITIONERS FOR PARDON . . . 347 THE CHILDREN OF BLENTARN GHYLL . . 368 AGOSTINA OF ZARAGOZA 375 CASAL Novo 383 THE MAD DOG 389 THE MONTHYON PRIZES 394 THE Loss OF THE DRAKE AND THE MAGPIE. 413 THE FEVER AT OSMOTHERLY .... 423 Contents. THE CHIEFTAINESS AND THE VOLCANO DISCIPLINE THE RESCUERS THE RESCUE PARTY .... 435 441 447 THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD OF THE FAR SOUTH 45 6 A BOOK OF GOLDEN DEEDS. WHAT IS A GOLDEN DEED? WE all of us enjoy a story of battle and adven- ture. Some of us delight in the anxiety and excitement with which we watch the various strange predicaments, hair-breadth escapes, and ingenious contrivances that are presented to us ; and the mere imaginary dread of the dangers thus depicted stirs our feelings and makes us feel eager and full of sus- pense. This taste, though it is the first step above the dulness that cannot be interested in anything be- yond its own immediate world, nor care for what it neither sees, touches, tastes, nor puts to any pres- ent use, is still the lowest form that such a liking can take. It may be no better than a love of read- ing about murders in the newspaper, just for the sake of a sort of startled sensation ; and it is a taste that becomes unwholesome when it absolutely de- lights in dwelling on horrors and cruelties for their own sake ; or upon shifty, cunning, dishonest strat- agems and devices. To learn to take interest in what is evil is always mischievous. 2 A Book of Golden Deeds. But there is an element in many of such scenes of woe and violence that may well account for our interest in them. It is that which makes the eye gleam and the heart throb, and bears us through the details of suffering, bloodshed, and even bar- barity, feeling our spirits moved and elevated by contemplating the courage and endurance that they have called forth. Nay, such is the charm of bril- liant valor, that we often are tempted to forget the injustice of the cause that may have called forth the actions that delight us. And this enthusiasm is often united with the utmost tenderness of heart, the very appreciation of suffering only quickening the sense of the heroism that risked the utmost, till the young and ardent learn absolutely to look upon danger as an occasion for evincing the highest qual- ities. " O Life, without thy checkered scene Of right and wrong, of weal and woe, Success and failure, could a ground For magnanimity be found ? " The true cause of such enjoyment is perhaps an inherent consciousness that there is nothing so no- ble as forgetfulness of self. Therefore it is that we are struck by hearing of the exposure of life and limb to the utmost peril, in oblivion, or reckless- ness of personal safety, in comparison with a higher object. That object is sometimes unworthy. In the low- est form of courage it is only avoidance of disgrace ; but even fear of shame is better than mere love of bodily ease, and from that lowest motive the scale rises to the most noble and precious actions of which human nature is capable, the truly golden and priceless deeds that are the jewels of history, the salt of life. And it is a chain of Golden Deeds that we seek What is a Golden Deed? 3 to lay before our readers ; but, ere entering upon them, perhaps we had better clearly understand what it is that to our mind constitutes a Golden Deed. It is not mere hardihood. There was plenty of hardihood in Pizarro when he led his men through terrible hardships to attack the empire of Peru, but he was actuated by mere greediness for gain, and all the perils he so resolutely endured could not make his courage admirable. It was nothing but insensibility to danger, when set against the wealth and power that he coveted, and to which he sacri- ficed thousands of helpless Peruvians. Daring for the sake of plunder has been found in every robber, every pirate, and too often in all the lower grade of warriors, from the savage plunderer of a besieged town up to the reckless monarch making war to feed his own ambition. There is a courage that breaks out in bravado, the exuberance of high spirits, delighting in defying peril for its own sake, not indeed producing deeds which deserve to be called golden, but which, from their heedless grace, their desperation, and absence of all base motives, except perhaps vanity, have an undeniable charm about them, even when we doubt the right of exposing a life in mere gayety of heart. Such was the gallantry of the Spanish knight who, while Fernando and Isabel lay before the Moorish city of Granada, galloped out of the camp, in full view of besiegers and besieged, and fastened to the gate of the city with his dagger a copy of the Ave Maria. It was a wildly brave action, and yet not without service in showing the dauntless spirit of the Christian army. But the same can hardly be said of the daring shown by the Emperor Maximil- ian when he displayed himself to the citizens of Ulm upon the topmost pinnacle of their cathedral spire ; or of Alonso de Ojeda, who figured in like manner 4 A Book of Golden Deeds. upon the tower of the Spanish cathedral. The same daring afterwards carried him in the track of Co- lumbus, and there he stained his name with the usual blots of rapacity and cruelty. These deeds, if not tinsel, were little better than gold-leaf. A Golden Deed must be something more than mere display of fearlessness. Grave and resolute fulfilment of duty is required to give it the true weight. Such duty kept the sentinel at his post at the gate of Pompeii, even when the stifling dust of ashes came thicker and thicker from the volcano, and the liquid mud streamed down, and the people fled and struggled on, and still the sentry stood at his post, unflinching, till death had stiffened his limbs ; and his bones, in their helmet and breast- plate, with the hand still raised to keep the suffo- cating dust from mouth and nose, have remained even till our own times to show how a Roman sol- dier did his duty. In like manner the last of the old Spanish infantry originally formed by the Great Captain, Gonzalo de Cordova, were all cut off, stand- ing fast to a man, at the battle of Rocroy, in 1643, not one man breaking his rank. The whole regi- ment was found lying in regular order upon the field of battle, with their colonel, the old Count de Fu- entes, at their head, expiring in a chair, in which he had been carried, because he was too infirm to walk, to this his twentieth battle. The conquerer, the high-spirited young Duke d'Enghien, afterwards Prince of Conde, exclaimed, "Were I not a victor, I should have wished thus to die ! " and preserved the chair among the relics of the bravest of his own fellow-countrymen. Such obedience at all costs and all risks is, how- ever, the very essence of a soldier's life. An army could not exist without it, a ship could not sail with- out it, and millions upon millions of those whose " bones are dust and good swords are rust " have What is a Golckn Deed? 5 shown such resolution. It is the solid material, but it has hardly the exceptional brightness, of a Golden Deed. And yet perhaps it is one of the most remarkable characteristics of a Golden Deed that the doer of it is certain to feel it merely a duty : " I have done that which it was my duty to do," is the natural answer of those capable of such actions. They have been constrained to them by duty, or by pity ; have never even deemed it possible to act otherwise, and did not once think of themselves in the mat- ter at all. For the true metal of a Golden Deed is self-devo- tion. Selfishness is the dross and alloy that gives the unsound ring to many an act that has been called glorious. And, on the other hand, it is not only the valor which meets a thousand enemies upon the battle-field, or scales the walls in a forlorn hope, that is of true gold. It may be, but often it is mere greed for fame, fear of shame, or lust of plunder. No, it is the spirit that gives itself for others the temper that, for the sake of religion, of country, of duty, of kindred, nay, of pity even to a stranger, will dare all things, risk all things, endure all things, meet death in one moment, or wear life away in slow, persevering tendance and suffering. Such a spirit was shown by Leasna, the Athenian woman, at whose house the overthrow of the tyranny of the Pisistratids was concerted, and who. when seized and put to the torture that she might disclose the secrets of the conspirators, fearing that the weakness of her frame might overpower her resolu- tion, actually bit off her tongue, that she might be unable to betray the trust placed in her. The Athenians commemorated her truly golden silence by raising in her honor the statue of a lioness with- out a tongue, in allusion to her name, which signi- fies a lioness. 6 A Book of Golden Deeds. Again, Rome had a tradition of a lady whose mother was in prison under sentence of death by hunger, but who, at the peril of her own life, visited her daily and fed her from her own bosom, until even the stern senate were moved with pity, and granted a pardon. The same story is told of a Greek lady, called Euphrasia, who thus nourished her father ; and in Scotland, in 1401, when the unhappy heir of the kingdom, David, Duke of Rothsay, had been thrown into the dungeon of Falkland Castle by his barbarous uncle, the Duke of Albany, there to be starved to death, his only helper was one poor peas- ant woman, who, undeterred by fear of the savage men that guarded the castle, crept, at every safe op- portunity, to the grated window on a level with the ground, and dropped cakes through it to the prison- er, while she allayed his thirst from her own breast through a pipe. Alas ! the visits were detected, and the Christian prince had less mercy than the heathen senate. Another woman, in 1450, when Sir Gilles of Brittany was savagely imprisoned and starved in much the same manner by his brother, Duke Franqois, sustained him for several days by bringing wheat in her veil, and dropping it through the grated window, and when poison had been used to hasten his death, she brought a priest to the grat- ing to enable him to make his peace with Heaven. Tender pity made these women venture all things ; and surely their doings were full of the gold of love. So again two Swiss lads, whose father was dan- gerously ill, found that they could by no means pro- cure the needful medicine, except at a price far be- yond their means, and heard that an English trav- eller had offered a large price for a couple of eaglets. The only eyrie was on a crag supposed to be so in- accessible, that no one ventured to attempt it, till these boys, in their intense anxiety for their father, dared the fearful danger, scaled the precipice, cap- What is a Golden Deed? 7 tured the birds, and safely conveyed them to the traveller. Truly this was a deed of gold. Such was the action of the Russian servant whose master's carriage was pursued by wolves, and who sprang out among the beasts, sacrificing his own life willingly to slake their fury for a few minutes in order that the horses might be untouched, and con- vey his master to a place of safety. But his act of self-devotion has been so beautifully expanded in the story of " Eric's Grave," in " Tales of Christian Heroism," that we can only hint at it, as at that of the " Helmsman of Lake Erie," who, with the steamer on fire around him, held fast by the wheel in the very jaws of the flame, so as to guide the ves- sel into harbor, and save the many lives within her, at the cost of his own fearful agony, while slowly scorched by the flames. Memorable, too, was the compassion that kept Dr. Thompson upon the battle-field of the Alma, all alone throughout the night, striving to alleviate the sufferings and attend to the wants, not of our own wounded, but of the enemy, some of whom, if they were not sorely belied, had been known to requite a friendly act of assistance with a pistol-shot. Thus to remain in the darkness, on a battle-field in an en- emy's country, among the enemy themselves, all for pity and mercy's sake, was one of the noblest acts that history can show. Yet it was paralleled in the time of the Indian Mutiny, when every English man and woman was flying from the rage of the Se- poys at Benares, and Dr. Hay alone remained, be- cause he would not desert the patients in the hos- pital, whose life depended on his care many of them of those very native corps who were advanc- ing to massacre him. This was the Roman sentry's firmness, more voluntary and more glorious. Nor may we pass by her to whom our title-page points as our living type of Golden Deeds to her who 8 A Book of Golden Deeds. first showed how woman's ministrations of mercy may be carried on, not only within the city, but on the borders of the camp itself "the lady with the lamp," whose health and strength were freely devo- ted to the holy work of softening the after sufferings that render war so hideous ; whose very step and shadow carried gladness and healing to the sick soldier, and who has opened a path of like shining light to many another woman who only needed to be shown the way. Fitly, indeed, may the figure of Florence Nightingale be shadowed forth at the opening of our roll of Golden Deeds. Thanks be to God, there is enough of His own spirit of love abroad in the earth to make Golden Deeds of no such rare occurrence, but that the_y are of " all time." Even heathen days were not without them, and how much more should they not abound after the words have been spoken, ' Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friend," and after the one Great Deed has been wrought that has consecrated all other deeds of self- sacrifice. Of martyrdoms we have scarcely spoken. They were truly deeds of the purest gold ; but they are too numerous to be dwelt on here ; and even as soldiers deem it each man's simple duty to face death unhesitatingly, so " the glorious army of mar- tys " had, for the most part, joined the Church with the expectation that they should have to confess the faith, and confront the extremity of death and tor- ture for it. What have been here brought together are chiefly cases of self-devotion that stand out remarkably, ei- ther from their hopelessness, their courage, or their patience, varying with the character of their age ; but with that one essential distinction in all, that the dross of self was cast away. Among these we cannot forbear mentioning the poor American soldier, who, grievously wounded, What is a Goldtn Deed? as to be able to hold out against their enemies, and this year and the next were the most prosperous of the life of the loyal-hearted Maccabee. The i^reat enemy of the Jews, Antiochus Epipha- nes, was in the mean time dying in great agony in Persia, and his son, Antiochus Eupator, was set on the throne by I.ysi is, who brought him with an enormous army to reduce the rising in Judea. The fight was again at liethshur, where Judas had built a strong tort on a point of rock that guarded the road to Hebron. Lysias tried to take this fort, and Judas came to the rescue with his little army, to meet the far mightier Syrian Ibrce, which was made 86 A Book of Golden Deeds. more terrific by possessing thirty war elephants im- ported from the Indian frontier. Each of these creatures carried a tower containing thirty-two men armed with darts and javelins, and an Indian driver on his neck ; and they had 1,000 foot and 500 horse attached to the special following of the beast, who, gentle as he was by nature, often produced a fear- ful effect on the enemy ; not so much by his huge bulk as by the terror he inspired among men, and far more among horses. The whole host was spread over the mountains, and in the valleys, so that it is said that their bright armor and gold and silver shields made the mountain glisten like lamps of fire. Still Judas pressed on to the attack, and his brother Eleazar, perceiving that one of the ele- phants was more adorned than the rest, thought it might be carrying the king, and devoted himself for his country. He fought his way to the monster, crept under it, and stabbed it from beneath, so that the mighty weight sank down on him and crushed him to death in his fall. He gained a "perpetual name " for valor and self-devotion ; but the king was not upon the elephant, and after a hard-fought battle, Judas was obliged to draw off and leave Bethshur to be taken by the enemy, and to shut himself up in Jerusalem. There, want of provisions had brought him to great distress, when tidings came that another son of Antiochus Epiphanes had claimed the throne, and Lysias made peace in haste with Judas, prom- ising him full liberty of worship, and left Palestine in peace. This did not, however, last long. Lysias and his young master were slain by the new king, Deme- trius, who again sent an army for the subjection of Judas, and further appointed a high-priest, named Alcimus, of the family of Aaron, but inclined to Savor the new heathen fashions. The Brave Brethren of Judah. 87 This was the most fatal thing that had happened to Judas. Though of the priestly line, he was so much of a warrior, that he seems to have thought it would be profane to offer sacrifice himself; and many of the Jews were so glad of another high- priest, that they let Alcimus into the Temple, and Jerusalem was again lost to Judas. One more bat- tle was won by him at Beth-horon, and then, finding how hard it was to make head against the Syrians, he sent to ask the aid of the great Roman power. But long before the answer could come, a huge Sy- rian army had marched in on the Holy Land, 20,000 men, and Judas had again no more than 3,000. Some had gone over to Alcimus, some were of- fended at his seeking Roman alliance, and when at Eleasah he came in sight of the host, his men's hearts failed more than ever they had done before, and, out of the 3,000 at first collected, only 800 stood with him, and they would fain have per- suaded him to retreat. '' God forbid that I should do this thing," he said, "and flee away from them. If our time be come, let us die manfully for our brethren, and let us not stain our honor." Sore was the battle, as sore as that waged by the 800 at Thermopylae, and the end was the same. Judas and his 800 were not driven from the field, but lay dead upon it. But their work was done. What is called the moral effect of such a defeat goes further than many a victory. Those lives, sold so dearly, were the price of freedom for Judaea. Judas's brothers Jonathan and Simon laid him in his father's tomb, and then ended the work that he had begun ; and when Simon died, the Jews, once so trodden on, were the most prosperous race in the East. The Temple was raised from its ruins, and the exploits of the Maccabees had nerved the whole people to do or die in defence of the holy faith of their fathers. THE CHIEF OF THE ARVERNI. B.C. 52. "1 1 /"E have seen the Gauls in the heart of Rome, V V we have now to see them showing the last courage of despair, defending their native lands against the greatest of all the conquerors that Rome ever sent fgrth. These lands, where they had dwelt for so many years as justly to regard them as their inheritance, were Gaul. There the Celtic race had had their abode ever since history has spoken clearly, and had become, in Gaul especially, slightly more civilized, from intercourse with the Greek colony at Massilia, or Marseilles. But they had become borderers upon the Roman dominions, and there was little chance that they would not be absorbed ; the tribes of Pro- vence, the first Roman province, were already con- quered, others were in alliance with Rome, and some had called in the Romans to help them fight their battles. There is no occasion to describe the seven years' war by which Julius Caesar added Gaul to the provinces claimed by Rome, and when he visited Britain ; such conquests are far from being Golden Deeds, but are far worthier of the iron age. It is the stand made by the losing party, and the true patriotism of one young chieftain, 'that we would wish here to dwell upon. In the sixth year of the war the conquest seemed The Chief of the Arverni. 89 to have been made, and the Roman legions were guarding the north and west, while Caesar himself had crossed the Alps. Subjection pressed heavily on the Gauls, some of their chiefs had been put to death, and the high spirit of the nation was stirred. Meetings took place between the warriors of the various tribes, and an oath was taken by those who inhabited the centre of the country, that if they once revolted, they would stand by one another to the last. These Gauls were probably not tall, bony giants, like the pillagers of Rome ; their appearance and character would be more like that of the modern Welsh, or of their own French descendants, small, alert, and dark-eyed, full of fire, but, though fierce at the first onset, soon rebuffed, yet with much per- severance, in the long run. Their worship was con- ducted by Druids, like that of the Britons, and their dress was of checked material, formed into a loose coat and wide trousers. The superior "chiefs, who had had any dealings with Rome, would speak a lit- tle Latin, and have a few Roman weapons as great improvements upon their own. Their fortifications were wonderfully strong. Trunks of trees were laid on the ground at two feet apart, so that the depth of the wall was their full length. Over these another tier of beams was laid crosswise, and the space be- tween was filled up with earth, and the outside faced with large stones ; the building of earth and stone was carried up to some height, then came another tier of timbers, crossed as before, and this was re- peated again to a considerable height, the inner ends of the beams being fastened to a planking within the wall, so that the whole was of immense com- pactness. Fire could not damage the mineral part of the construction, nor the battering ram hurt the wood, and the Romans had been often placed in great difficulties by these rude but admirable con- structions, within which the Gauls placed their fam- 90 A Book of Golden Deeds. ilies and cattle, building huts for present shelter. Of late, some attempts had been made at copying the regular streets and houses built round courts that were in use among the Romans, and Roman colonies had been established in various places, where veteran soldiers had received grants of land on condition of keeping the natives in check. A growing taste for arts and civilization was leading to Romans of inferior classes settling themselves in other Gallic cities. The first rising of the Gauls began by a quarrel at the city we now call Orleans, ending in a massacre of all the Romans there. The tidings were spread through all the country by loud shouts, repeated from one to the other by men stationed on every hill, and thus what had been done at Orleans at sunrise was known by nine at night 160 miles off among the mountains, which were then the homes of a tribe called by the Romans the Arverni. who have left their name to the province of Auvergne. Here dwelt a young chieftain, probably really called Fearcuincedorigh, or Man who is chief of a hundred heads, known to us by Caesar's version of his name, as yercingetorix, a high-spirited youth, who keenly felt the servitude of his country, and who, on receiving these tidings, instantly called on his friends to endeavor to shake off the yoke. His uncle, who feared to provoke Roman vengeance, expelled him from the chief city, Gergovia, the re- mains of which may be traced on the mountain still called Gergoie, about six miles from Clermont ; but he collected all the younger and more high-spirited men, forced a way into the city, and was proclaimed chief of his tribe. All the neighboring tribes joined in the league against the common enemy, and ti- dings were brought to Cassar that the whole country round the Loire was in a state of revolt. In the heart of winter he hurried back, and took The Chief of the Arverni. 91 the Gauls by surprise by crossing the snows that lay thick on the wild waste of the Cebenna, which the Arverni had always considered as their impen- etrable barrier throughout the winter. The towns quickly fell into his hands, and he was rapidly re- covering all he had lost, when Vercingetorix, col- lecting his chief supporters, represented to them that their best hope would be in burning all the in- habited places themselves and driving off all the cattle, then lying in wait to cut off all the convoys of provisions that should be sent to the enemy, and thus starving them into a retreat. He said that burning houses were indeed a grievous sight, but it would be still more grievous to see their wives and children dragged into captivity. To this all the allies agreed, and twenty towns in one district were burnt in a single day ; but when they came to the city of Avaricum, now called Bourges, the tribe of Bituriges, to whom it belonged, entreated on their knees not to be obliged to destroy the most beau- tiful city in the country, representing that, as it had a river on one side, and a morass everywhere else, except at a very narrow entrance, it might be easily held out against the enemy, and to their entreaties Vercingetorix yielded, though much against his own judgment Caesar laid siege to the place, but his army suf- fered severely from cold and hunger ; they had no bread at all, and lived only on the cattle driven in from distant villages, while Vercingetorix hovered round, cutting off their supplies. They however labored diligently to raise a mount against the wall of the town ; but as fast as they worked, the higher did the Gauls within raise the stages of their ram- part, and for twenty-five days there was a most brave defence ; but at last the Romans made their entrance, and slaughtered all they found there, except 800, vho escaped to the camp of Vercingetorix. He was 92 A Book of Golden Deeds. not disconcerted by this loss, which he had always expected, but sheltered and clothed the fugitives, and raised a great body of archers and of horsemen, with whom he returned to his own territory in Au- vergne. There was much fighting around the city of Gergovia : but at length, owing to the revolt of the ^dui, another Gallic tribe, Caesar was forced to retreat over the Loire ; and the wild peaks of vol- canic Auvergne were free again. But no gallant resolution could long prevail against the ever-advancing power of Rome, and at length the Gauls were driven into their fortified camp at Alesia, now called Alise,* a city standing on a high hill, with two rivers flowing round its base, and a plain in front about three miles wide. Everywhere else it was circled in by high hills, and here Caesar resolved to shut these brave men in and bring them to bay. He caused his men to begin that mighty system of earthworks by which the Romans carried on their attacks, compassing their victim round on every side with a deadly slowness and sureness, by those broad ditches and terraced ramparts that everywhere mark where their foot of iron has trod. Eleven miles round did this huge rampart extend, strengthened by three-and-twenty redoubts, or places of defence, where a watch was continually kept. Be- fore the lines were complete, Vercingetorix brought out his cavalry, and gave battle, at one time with a hope of success ; but the enemy were too strong for him, and his horsemen were driven into the camp. He then resolved to send home all of these, since they could be of no use in the camp, and had better escape before the ditch should have shut them in on every side. He charged them to go to their several tribes and endeavor to assemble all the fighting men to come to his rescue ; for, if he were not speedily * In Burgundy, between Semur and Dijon. The Chief of the Arverni. 93 succored, he and eighty thousand of the bravest of the Gauls must fall into the hands of the Romans, since he had only corn for thirty days, even with the utmost saving. Having thus exhorted them, he took leave of them, and sent them away at nine at night, so that they might escape in the dark where the Roman trench had not yet extended. Then he distributed the cattle among his men, but retained the corn him- self, serving it out with the utmost caution. The Romans outside fortified their camp with a double ditch, one of them full of water, behind which was a bank twelve feet high, with stakes forked like the horns of a stag. The space between the ditches was filled with pits, and scattered with iron caltrops or hooked spikes. All this was against the garrison, to prevent them from breaking out ; and outside the camp he made another line of ditches and ramparts against the Gauls who might be coming to the rescue. The other tribes were not deaf to the summons of their friends, but assembled in large numbers, and just as the besieged had exhausted their pro- visions, an army was seen on the hills beyond the camp. Their commander was Vergosillaunus (most probably Fearsaighan, the Man of the Standard), a near kinsman of Vercingetorix ; and all that bravery could do they did to break through the defences of the camp from outside, while within, Vercingetorix and his eighty thousand tried to fill up the ditches and force their way out to meet their friends. But Caesar himself commanded the Romans, who were confident in his fortunes, and raised a shout of ec- stacy wherever they beheld his thin, marked, eagle face and purple robe, rushing on the enemy with a confidence of victory that did in fact render them invincible. The Gauls gave way, lost seventy-four of their standards, and Vergosillaunus himself was 94 A Book of Golden Deeds. taken prisoner ; and as for the brave garrison within Alesia, they were but like so many flies struggling in vain within the enormous web that had been woven around them. Hope was gone, but the chief of the Arverni could yet do one thing for his coun- trymen he could offer up himself in order to ob- tain better terms for them. The next day he convened his companions in arms, and told them that he had only fought for the freedom of their country, not to secure his private interest ; and that now, since yield they must, he freely offered himself to become a victim for their safety, whether they should judge it best for them- selves to appease the anger of the conqueror by putting him to death themselves, or whether they preferred giving him up alive. It was a piteous necessity to have to sacrifice their noblest and bravest, who had led them so gal- lantly during the long war ; but they had little choice, and could only send messengers to the camp to offer to yield Vercingetorix as the price of their safety. Caesar made it known that he was willing to accept their submission, and drawing up his troops in battle array, with the Eagle standards around him, he watched the whole Gallic army march past him. First, Vercingetorix was placed as a prisoner in his hands, and then each man laid down sword, javelin, or bow and arrows, helmet, buckler, and breastplate, in one mournful heap, and proceeded on his way, scarcely thankful that the generosity of their chieftain had purchased for them subjection rather than death. Vercingetorix himself had become the property of the great man from whom alone we know of his deeds ; who could perceive his generous spirit and high qualities as a general, nay, who honored the self-devotion by which he endeavored to save his countrymen. He remained in captivity, six long The Chief of the Arverni. 95 years sped by, while Cassar passed the Rubicon, fought out his struggle for power at Rome, and sub- dued Egypt, Pontus and Northern Africa, and all the time the brave G.iul remained closely watched and guarded, and with no hope of seeing the jagged peaks and wild valleys of his own beautiful Au- vergne. For well did he, like every other marked foe of Rome, know for what he was reserved, and no doubt he yielded himself in the full expectation or' that fate which many a man, as brave as he, had escaped by self-destruction. The day came at last. In July, B.C. 45, the vic- torious Caesar had leisure to celebrate his victories in four grand triumphs, all in one month, and that in honor of the conquest of Gaul came the first The triumphal gate of Rome was thrown wide open, every house was decked with hangings of silk and tapestry, the household images of every family, dressed with fresh flowers, were placed in their porches, those of the gods stood on the steps of the temples, and in marched the procession, the magis- trates first in their robes of office, and then the trumpeters. Next came the tokens of the victory, figures of the supposed gods of the two great rivers, Rhine and Rhone, and even of the captive Ocean, made in gold, were carried along, with pic- tures framed in citron wood, showing the scenes of the victory, the wild waste of the Cevennes, the steep peaks of Auvergne. the mighty camp of Ale- sia ; nay. there too would be the white cliffs of Dover, and the struggle with the Britons on the beach. Models in wood and ivory showed the for- tifications of Avaricum, and of many another city ; and here too were carried specimens of the olives and vines, and other curious plants of the newly won land ; here was the breastplate of British pearls that Caesar dedicated to Venus. A band of flute- players followed, and then came the white oxen 96 A Book of Golden Deeds. that were to be sacrificed, their horns gilded and flowers living round them, the sacrificing priests with wreathed heads marching with them. Speci- mens of bears and wolves from the woods and mountains came next in order, and after them waved for the last time the national ensigns of the many tribes of Gaul. Once more Vercingetorix and Vergosillaunus saw their own Arvernian stand- ard, and marched behind it with the noblest of their clan ; once more they wore their native dress and well-tried armor. But chains were on their hands and feet, and the men who had fought so long and well for freedom, were the captive gazing-stock of Rome. Long, long was the line of chained Gauls of every tribe, before the four white horses appeared, all abreast, drawing the gilded car, in which stood a slight form in a purple robe, with the bald head and narrow temples encircled with a wreath of bay, the thin cheeks tinted with vermilion, the eager acqui- line face and narrow lips gravely composed to Ro- man dignity, and the quick eye searching out what impression the display was making on the people. Over his head a slave held a golden crown, but whispered, " Remember that thou too art a man." And in following that old custom, how little did the victor know that, bay-crowned like himself, there followed close behind, in one of the chariots of the officers, the man whose dagger-thrust would, two years later, be answered by his dying word of re- proach ! The horsemen of the army followed, and then the legions, every spear wreathed, every head crowned with bay, so that an evergreen grove might have seemed marching through the Roman streets, but for the war-songs, and the wild jests, and ribald ballads that custom allowed the soldiers to shout out, often in pretended mockery of their own vic- torious general, the Imperator. The victor climbed the Capitol steps, and laid his The Chief of the Arvcrni. 97 wreath of bay on Jupiter's knees, the white oxen were sacrificed, and the feast began by torchlight. Where was the vanquished ? He was led to the dark pris- on vault in the side of the Capitoline hill, and there one sharp sword-thrust ended the gallant life and long captivity. It was no special cruelty in Julius Caesar. Every Roman triumph was stained by the slaughter of the most distinguished captives, after the degradation of walking in chains had been undergone. He had spirit to appreciate Vercingetorix, but had not no- bleness to spare him from the ordinary fate. Yet we may doubt which, in true moral greatness, was the superior in that hour of triumph, the conqueror who trod down all that he might minister to his own glory, or the conquered, who, when no resistance had availed, had voluntarily confronted shame and death in hopes to win pardon and safety for his comrades. WITHSTANDING THE MONARCH IN HIS WRATH. A. D. 389. WHEN a monarch's power is unchecked by his people, there is only One to whom he be- lieves himself accountable ; and if he have forgotten the dagger of Damocles, or if he be too high-spirited to regard it, then that Higher One alone can re- strain his actions. And there have been times when princes have so broken the bounds of right, that no hope remains of recalling them to their duty save by the voice of the ministers of God upon Earth. But as these ministers bear no charmed life, and are subjects themselves of the prince, such rebukes have been given at the utmost risk of liber- ty and life. Thus it was that though Nathan, unharmed, showed David his sin, and Elijah, the wondrous prophet of Gilead, was protected from Jezebel's fury, when he denounced her and her husband Ahab for the idolatry of Baal and the murder of Naboth ; yet no Divine hand interposed to shield Zachariah, the son of Jehoiada, the high-priest, when he rebuked the apostasy of his cousin, Jeho- ash, King of Judah, and was stoned to death by the ungrateful king's command in that very temple court where Jehoiada and his armed Levites had encountered the savage usurping Athaliah, and won "THE CAUSE OF MERCY, PURITY, AND TRUTH, IS THE CAUSE OF GOD." Withstanding the Monarch in his Wrath. 99 back the kingdom for the child Jehoash. And when, " in the spirit and power of Elijah," St. John the Baptist denounced the sin of Herod Antipas in marrying his brother Philip's wife, he bore the con- sequences to the utmost, when thrown into prison and then beheaded to gratify the rage of the vindic- tive woman. Since Scripture Saints in the age of miracles were not always shielded from the wrath of kings, Chris- tian bishops could expect no special interposition in their favor, when they stood forth to stop the way of the sovereign's passions, and to proclaim that the cause of mercy, purity, and truth is the cause of God. The first of these Christian bishops was Ambrose, the sainted prelate of Milan. It was indeed a Chris- tian Emperor whom he opposed, no other than the great Theodosius, but it was a new and unheard of thing for any voice to rebuke an Emperor of Rome, and Theodosius had proved himself a man of violent passions. The fourth century was a time when races and all sorts of shows were the fashion, nay, literally the rage ; for furious quarrels used to arise among the spectators who took the part of one or other of the competitors, and would call themselves after their colors, the Blues or the Greens. A favorite chariot- driver, who had excelled in these races at Thessa- lonica, was thrown into prison for some misde- meanor by Botheric, the Governor of Illyria, and his absence so enraged the Thessalonican mob, that they rose in tumult, and demanded his restoration. On being refused, they threw such a hail of stones that the governor himself and some of his officers were slain. Theodosius might well be displeased, but his rage passed all bounds. He was at Milan at the time, and at first Ambrose so worked on his feelings as ioo A Book of Golden Deeds. to make him promise to temper justice with mercy ; but afterwards, fresh accounts of the murder, to- gether with the representations of his courtier Rufinus, made him resolve not to relent, and he sent oft" messengers commanding that there should be a general slaughter of all the race-going Thes- salonicans, since all were equally guilty of Botheric's death. He took care that his horrible command should be kept a secret from Ambrose, and the first that the Bishop heard of it was the tidings that 7,000 persons had been killed in the theatre, in a massacre lasting three hours ! There was no saving these lives, but Ambrose felt it his duty to make the Emperor feel his sin, in hopes of saving others. Besides, it was not con- sistent with the honor of God to receive at his altar a man reeking with innocent blood. The Bishop however took time to consider ; he went into the country for a few days, and thence wrote a letter to the Emperor, telling him that thus stained with crime, he could not be admitted to the Holy Com- munion, nor received into church. Still the Em- peror does not seem to have believed he could be really withstood by any subject, and on Ambrose's return, he found the imperial procession, lictors, guards and all, escorting the Emperor as usual to the Basilica or Justice Hall, that had been turned into a church. Then to the door came the Bishop and stood in the way, forbidding the entrance, and announcing that there at least, sacrilege should not be added to murder. " Nay," said the Emperor, " did not holy King David commit both murder and adultery, yet was not he received again ? " " If you have sinned like him, repent like him," answered Ambrose. Theodosius turned away, troubled. He was great Withstanding the Monarch in his Wrath. 101 enough not to turn his anger against the Bishop ; he felt that he had sinned, and that the chastisement was merited, and he went back to his palace weep- ing, and there spent eight months, attending to his duties of state, but too proud to go through the tokens of penitence that ihe discipline of the church had prescribed before a great sinner could be re- ceived back into the congregation of the faithful. Easter was the usual time for reconciling penitents, and Ambrose was not inclined to show any respect of persons, or to excuse the Emperor from a pen- ance he would have imposed on any offender. How- ever, Rufinus could not believe in such disregard, and thought all would give way to the Emperor's will. Christmas had come, but for one man at Milan there were no hymns, no shouts of " glad tidings ! " no midnight festival, no rejoicing that " to us a Child is born ; to us a Son is given." The Basilica was thronged with worshippers and rang with their Amens, resounding like thunder, and their echoing song the Te Deum then their newest hymn of praise. But the lord of all those multitudes was alone in his palace. He had not shown good- will to man ; he had not learnt mercy and peace from the Prince of Peace ; and the door was shut upon him. He was a resolute Spanish Roman, a well- tried soldier, a man advancing in years, but he wept, and wept bitterly. Rufinus found him thus weep- ing. It must have been strange to the courtier that his master did not send his lictors to carry the of- fcn'lin^ bishop to a dungeon, and give all his court- favor to the heretics, like the last empress who had reigned at Milan. Nay, he might even, like Julian the Apostate, have altogether renounced that Chris- tian faith which could humble an emperor below the poorest of his subjects. But Rufinus contented himself with urging the Emperor not to remain at home lamenting, but to IO2 A Book of Col dan Detds. endeavor again to obtain admission into the church, assuring him that the Bishop would give way. The- odosius replied that he did not expect it, but yielded to the persuasions, and Rufinus hastened on before to warn the Bishop of his coming, and represented how inexpedient it was to offend him. " I warn you," replied Ambrose, "that I shall oppose his entrance, but if he chooses to turn his power into tyranny, I shall willingly let him slay me." The Emperor did not try to enter the church, but sought Ambrose in an adjoining building, where he entreated to be absolved from his sin. "Beware," returned the Bishop, " of trampling on the laws of God." " I respect them," said the Emperor, " therefore I have not set foot in the church, but I pray thee to deliver me from these bonds, and not to close against me the door that the Lord hath opened to all who truly repent." " What repentance have you shown for such a sin ? " asked Ambrose. "Appoint my penance," said the Emperor, en- tirely subdued. And Ambrose caused him at once to sign a decree that thirty days should always elapse between a sen- tence of death and its execution. After this, Theo- dosius was allowed to come into the church, but only to the corner he had shunned all these eight months, till the " dull hard stone within him " had "melted," to the spot appointed for the penitents. There, without his crown, his purple robe, and bus- kins, worked with golden eagles, all laid aside, he lay prostrate on the stones, repeating the verse, " My soul cleaveth unto the dust ; quicken me, O Lord, according to thy word." This was the place that penitents always occupied, and their fasts and other discipline were also appointed. When the Withstanding the Monarch in his Wrath. 103 due course had been gone through, probably at the next Easter, Ambrose, in his Mister's name, pro- nounced the forgiveness of Theodosius, and re- ceived him back to the full privileges of a Christian. When we look at the course of many another em- peror, and see how easily, where the power was ir- responsible, justice became severity, and severity bloodthirstiness, we see what Ambrose dared to meet, and from what he spared Theodosius and all the civilized world under his sway. Who can tell how many innocent lives have been saved by that thirty days' respite ? Pass over nearly seven hundred years, and again we find a church door barred against a monarch. This time it is not under the bright Italian sky, but under the gray fogs of the Baltic sea. It is not the stately marble gateway of the Milanese Basilica, but the Low-arched, rou/h stone portal of the newly- built cathedral of Roskilde, in Zealand, where, if a zigzag surrounds the arch, it is a great effort of genius. The Danish King Swend, the nephew of the well-known Knut, stands before it ; a stern and pow- erful mm, fierce and passionate, and with many a D inish axe at his command. Nay, only lately, for a few rude jests, he caused some of his chief jarls to be slain without a trial. Half the country is still pagan, and though the king himself is baptized, there is no certainty that, if the Christian faith do not suit his taste, he may not join the heathen party and return to the worship of Thor and Tyr, where deeds of blood would be not blameworthy, but a passport to the rude joys of Valhall. Nevertheless there is a pastoral staff across the doorway, barring the way of the king, and that staff is held against him by an Englishman, William, Bishop of Ros- kilde. the missionary who had converted a great part of Zealand, but who will not accept Christians who have not laid aside their sins. IO4 A Book of Golden Deeds. He confronts the king who has never been op- posed before. " Go back," he says, " nor dare approach the altar of God thou who art not a king but a murderer." Some of the jarls seized their swords and axes, and were about to strike the bishop away from the threshold, but he, without removing his staff, bent his head, and bade them strike, saying he was ready to die in the cause of God. But the king came to a better frame of mind, he called the jarls away, and returning humbly to his palace, took off his royal robes, and came again barefoot and in sackcloth to the church door, where Bishop William met him, took him by the hand, gave him the kiss of peace, and led him to the penitents' place. After three days he was absolved, and for the rest of his life the bishop and the king lived in the closest friend- ship, so much so that William always prayed that even in death he might not be divided from his friend. The prayer was granted. The two died almost at the same time, and were buried together in the cathedral at Roskilde, where the one had taught and the other learnt the great lesson of mercy. THE LAST FIGHT IN THE COLIS/EUM. A. D. 404. AS the Romans grew prouder and more fond of pleasure, no one could hope to please them who did not give them sports and entertainments. When any person wished to be elected to any pub- lic office, it was a matter of course that he should compliment his fellow-citizens by exhibitions of the kind they loved, and when the common people were discontented, their cry was that they wanted panem ac Ctrcenses, "bread and sports," the only things they cared for. In most places where there has been a large Roman colony, remains can be seen of the amphitheatres, where the citizens were wont to assemble for these diversions. Sometimes these are stages of circular galleries of seats hewn out of the hillside, where rows of spectators might sit one above the other, all looking down on a broad, flat space in the centre, under their feet, where the representations took place. Sometimes, when the country was flat, or it was easier to build than to excavate, the amphitheatre was raised above ground, rising up to a considerable height. The grandest and most renowned of all these am- phitheatres is the Colisasum at Rome. It was built by Vespasian and his son Titus, the conquerors of Jerusalem, in a valley in the midst of the seven hills of Rome. The captive Jews were forced to 106 A Book of Golden Deeds, labor at it ; and the materials, granite outside, and softer travertine stone within, are so solid and so admirably built, that still, at the end of eighteen centuries, it has scarcely even become a ruin, but remains one of the greatest wonders of Rome. Five acres of ground were enclosed within the oval of its outer wall, which outside rises perpendic- ularly in tiers of arches one above the other. With- in, the galleries of seats projected forwards, each tier coming out far beyond the one above it, so that be- tween the lowest and the outer wall there was room for a great space of chambers, passages, and vaults around the central space, called the arena, from the arena, or sand, with which it was strewn. When the Roman Emperors grew very vain and luxurious, they used to have this sand made or- namental with metallic filings, vermilion, and even powdered precious stones ; but it was thought bet- ter taste to use the scrapings of a soft white stone, which, when thickly strewn, made the whole arena look as if covered with untrodden snow. Around the border of this space flowed a stream of fresh water. Then came a straight wall, rising to a considerable height, and surmounted by a broad platform, on which stood a throne for the emperor, curule chairs of ivory and gold for the chief magis- trates and senators, and seats for the vestal virgins. Next above were galleries for the equestrian order, the great mass of those w r ho considered themselves as of gentle station, though not of the highest rank ; farther up, and therefore farther back, were the gal- leries belonging to the freemen of Rome ; and these were again surmounted by another plain wall with a platform at the top, where were places for the ladies, who were not (except the vestal virgins) allowed to look on nearer, because of the unclothed state of some of the performers in the arena. Between the ladies' boxes, benches were squeezed in where the The Last Fight in the Colisceum. 107 lowest people could seat themselves ; and some of these likewise found room in the two uppermost tiers of porticos, where sailors, mechanics, and per- sons in the service of the Colisasum had their post. Altogether, when full, this huge building held no less than 87,000 spectators. It had no roof; but when there was rain, or if the sun was too hot, the sailors in the porticos unfurled awnings that ran along upon ropes, and formed a covering of silk and gold tissue over the whole. Purple was the favorite color for this velamen, or veil ; because when the sun shone through it, it cast such beautiful rosy tints on the snowy arena and the white purple-edged togas of the Roman citizens. Long days were spent from morning till evening upon those galleries. The multitude who poured in early would watch the great dignitaries arrive and take their seats, greeting them either with shouts of applause or hootings of dislike, according as they were favorites or otherwise ; and when the Emperor came in to take his place under his canopy, there was one loud acclamation, " Joy to thee, master of all, first of all, happiest of all. Victory to thee for ever When the Emperor had seated himself and given the signal, the sports began. Sometimes a rope- dancing elephant would begin the entertainment, by mounting even to the summit of the building and descending by a cord. Then a bear, dressed up as a Roman matron, would be carried along in a chair between porters, as ladies were wont to go abroad, and another bear, in a lawyer's robe, would stand on his hind legs and go through the motions of pleading a cause. Or a lion came forth with a jew- elled crown on his head, a diamond necklace round his neck, his mane plated with gold, and his claws gilded, and played a hundred pretty gentle antics with a little hare that danced fearlessly within his io8 A Book of Golden Deeds. grasp. Then in would come twelve elephants, six males in the toga, six females with the veil and pal- lium ; they took their places on couches around an ivory table, dined with great decorum, playfully sprinkling a little rose-water over the nearest specta- tors, and then received more guests of their own un- wieldy kind, who arrived in ball dresses, scattered flowers, and performed a dance. Sometimes water was let into the arena, a ship sailed in, and falling to pieces in the midst, sent a crowd of strange animals swimming in all directions. Sometimes the ground opened, and trees came grow- ing up through it, bearing golden fruit. Or the beau- tiful old tale of Orpheus was acted : these trees would follow the harp and song of the musician ; but to make the whole part complete it was no mere play, but real earnest, that the Orpheus of the piece fell a prey to live bears. For the Colisaeum had not been built for such harmless spectacles as those first described. The fierce Romans wanted to be excited and feel them- selves strongly stirred ; and, presently, the doors of the pits and dens round the arena were thrown open, and absolutely savage beasts were let loose upon one another, rhinoceroses and tigers, bulls and lions, leopards and wild boars, while the people watched with savage curiosity to see the various kinds of attack and defence ; or, if the animals were cowed or sullen, their rage would be worked up red would be shown to bulls, white to boars, red-hot goads would be driven into some, whips would be lashed at others, till the work of slaughter was fairly commenced, and gazed on with greedy eyes, and ears delighted, instead of horror-struck, by the roars and howls of the noble creatures whose courage was thus misused. Sometimes, indeed, when some es- pecially strong or ferocious animal had slain a whole heap of victims, the cries of the people would decree The Last Fight in the Colis&um. icg that it should be turned loose in its native forest, and, amid shouts of " A triumph ! a triumph ! " the beast would prowl round the arena, upon the carcasses of the slain victims. Almost incredible numbers of animals were imported for these cruel sports, and the governors of distant provinces made it a duty to collect troops of lions, elephants, os- triches, leopards, the fiercer or the newer the creature the better, to be thus tortured to frenzy, to make sport in the amphitheatre. However, there was daintiness joined with cruelty : the Romans did not like the smell of blood, though they enjoyed the sight of it, and all the solid stone-work was pierced with tubes, through which was conducted the steam of spices and saffron, boiled in wine, that the per- fume might overpower the scent of slaughter below. Wild beasts tearing each other to pieces might, one would think, satisfy any taste for horror; but the spectators needed even nobler game to be set before their favorite monsters, men were brought forward to confront them. Some of these were, at first, in full armor, and fought hard, generally with success ; and there was a revolving machine, some- thing like a squirrel's cage, in which the bear was always climbing after his enemy, and then rolling over by his own weight. Or hunters came, almost unarmed, and gained the victory by swiftness and dexterity, throwing a piece of cloth over a lion's head, or disconcerting him by putting their fist down his throat. But it was not only skill, but death, that the Romans loved to see ; and condemned criminals and deserters were reserved to feast the lions, and to entertain the populace with their various kinds of death. Among these condemned was many a Christian martyr, who witnessed a good confession before the savage-eyed multitude around the arena, and " met the lion's gory mane " with a calm reso- lution and hopeful joy that the lookers-on could not no A Book of Golden Deeds. understand. To see a Christian die, with upward gaze and hymns of joy on his tongue, was the most strange and unaccountable sight the Colisaeum could offer, and it was therefore the choicest, and reserved for the last of the spectacles in which the brute cre- ation had a part. The carcasses were dragged off with hooks, the blood-stained sand was covered with a fresh clean layer, the perfume was wafted in stronger clouds, and a procession caine forward, tall, well-made men. in the prime of their strength. Some carried a sword and a lasso, others a trident and a net ; some were in light armor, others in the full heavy equipment of a soldier ; some on horseback, some in chariots, some on foot. They marched in, and made their obeisance to the Emperor ; and with one voice their greeting sounded through the build- ing, Ave, Ctzsar, morituri te salutant ! " Hail, Cae- sar, those about to die salute thee ! " They were the gladiators, the swordsmen trained to fight to the death to amuse the popu- lace. They were usually slaves placed in schools of arms under the care of a master ; but sometimes persons would voluntarily hire themselves out to fight by way of a profession : and both these, and such slave-gladiators as did not die in the arena, would sometimes retire, and spend an old age of quiet ; but there was little hope of this, for the Ro- mans were not apt to have mercy on the fallen. Fights of all sorts took place, the light-armed soldier and the netsman, the lasso and the jave- lin, the two heavy-armed warriors, all combina- tions of single combat, and sometimes a general mclcc. When a gladiator wounded his adversary, he shouted to the spectators, Hoc habet ! "He has it ! " and looked up to know whether he should kill or spare. If the people held up their thumbs, the conquered was left to recover, if he could ; if they The Last Fight in the Colisaum. \ \ I turned them down, he was to die : and if he showed any reluctance to present his throat for the death- blow, there was a scornful shout, Recipe ferruin .' " Receive the steel ! " Many of us must have seen casts of that most touching statue of the wounded man, that called forth the noble lines of indignant pity which, though so often repeated, cannot be passed over here : " I see before me the Gladiator lie ; He leans upon his hand, his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony. And his drooped head sinks gradually low, And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him, he is gone Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won. " He heard it, but he heeded not, his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away. He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother, he their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday. All this rushed with his blood, Shall he expire, And unavenged ? Arise ye Goths and glut your ire." Sacred vestals, tender mothers, fat, good-humored senators, all thought it fair play, and were equally pitiless in the strange frenzy for exciting scenes to which they gave themselves up, when they mounted the stone stairs of the Colisaeum. Privileged per- sons would even descend into the arena, examine the death-agonies, and taste the blood of some specially brave victim ere the corpse was drawn forth at the death-gate, that the frightful game might continue undisturbed and unencumbered. 112 A Book of Golden Deeds. Gladiator shows were the great passion of Rome, and popular favor could hardly be gained except by ministering to it. Even when the barbarians were beginning to close in on the Empire, hosts of brave men were still kept for this slavish mimic warfare, sport to the beholders, but sad earnest to the actors. Christianity worked its way upwards, and at last was professed by the Emperor on his throne. Per- secution came to an end, and no more martyrs fed the beasts in the Colisaeum. The Christian Em- perors endeavored to prevent any more shows where cruelty arid death formed the chief interest, and no truly religious person could endure the spectacle ; but custom and love of excitement prevailed even against the Emperor. Mere tricks of beasts, horse and chariot races, or bloodless contests, were tame and dull, according to the diseased taste of Rome ; it was thought weak and sentimental to object to looking on at a death-scene ; the Emperors were generally absent at Constantinople, and no ont. could get elected to any office unless he treated tin citizens to such a show as they best liked, with 3 little bloodshed and death to stir their feelings ; and thus it went on for full a hundred years after Rome had, in name, become a Christian city, and the same customs prevailed wherever there was an amphi- theatre and pleasure-loving people. Meantime the enemies of Rome were coming nearer and nearer, and Alaric, the great chief of the Goths, led his forces into Italy, and threatened the city itself. Honorius, the Emperor, was a cowardly, almost idiotical, boy ; but his brave general, Stilicho, assembled his forces, met the Goths at Pollentia (about twenty-five miles from where Turin now stands), and gave them a complete defeat on the Easter-day of the year 403. He pursued them into the mountains, and for that time saved Rome. In The Arena. Paire 113. The Last Fight in the Colisceum. \ \ 3 the joy of the victory the Roman senate invited the conqueror and his ward Honorius to enter the city in triumph, at the opening of the new year, with the white steeds, purple robes, and vermilion cheeks with which, of old, victorious generals were wel- comed at Rome. The churches were visited instead of the Temple of Jupiter, and there was no murder of the captives ; but Roman bloodthirstiness was not yet allayed, and, after all the procession had been completed, the Colisaeum shows commenced, innocently at first, with races on foot, on horseback, and in chariots ; then followed a grand hunting of beasts turned loose in the arena ; and next a sword- dance. But after the sword-dance came the array- ing of swordsmen, with no blunted weapons, but with sharp spears and swords, a gladiator combat in full earnest. The people, enchanted, applauded with shouts of ecstasy this gratification of their sav- age tastes. Suddenly, however, there was an inter- ruption. A rude, roughly-robed man, bareheaded and barefooted, had sprung into the arena, and, signing back the gladiators, began to call aloud upon the people to cease from the shedding of inno- cent blood, and not to requite God's mercy in turn- ing .away the sword of the enemy by encouraging murder. Shouts, howls, cries, broke in upon his words ; this was no place for preachings, the old customs of Rome should be observed, "Back, old man ! " " On, gladiators ! " The gladiators thrust aside the meddler, and rushed to the attack. He still stood between, holding them apart, striving in vain to be heard. " Sedition ! sedition ! " " Down with him ! " was the cry ; and the man in authori- ty, Alypius, the praefect, himself added his voice. The gladiators, enraged at interference with their vocation, cut him down. Stones, or whatever came to hand, rained down upon him from the furious people, and he perished in the midst of the arena ! H4 A Book of Golden Deeds. He lay dead, and then came the feeling of what had been done. His dress showed that he was one of the hermits who vowed themselves to a holy life of prayer and self-denial, and who were greatly reverenced, even by the most thoughtless. The few who had pre- viously seen him, told that he had come from the wilds of Asia on pilgrimage, to visit the shrines and keep his Christmas at Rome, they knew he was a holy man, no more, and it is not even certain whether his name was Alymachus or Telemachus. His spirit had been stirred by the sight of thousands flocking to see men slaughter one another, and in his simple-hearted zeal he had resolved to stop the cruelty or die. He had died, but not in vain. His work was done. The shock of such a death before their eyes turned the hearts of the people ; they saw the wickedness and cruelty to which they had blindly surrendered themselves ; and from the day when the hermit died in the Colisaeum there was never another fight of gladiators. Not merely at Rome, but in every province of the Empire, the custom was utterly abolished ; and one habitual crime at least was wiped from the earth by the self- devotion of one humble, obscure, almost nameless man. THE SHEPHERD GIRL OF NANTERRE. A. D. 438. FOUR hundred years of the Roman dominion had entirely tamed the once wild and indepen- dent Gauls. Everywhere, except in the moorlands of Brittany, they had become as much like Romans themselves as they could accomplish ; they had Latin names, spoke the Latin tongue, all their per- sonages of higher rank were enrolled as Roman citi- zens, their chief cities were colonies where the laws were administered by magistrates in the Roman fashion, and the houses, dress, and amusements were the same as those of Italy. The greater part of the towns had been converfed to Christianity, though some Paganism still lurked in the more remote vil- lages and mountainous districts. It was upon these civilized Gauls that the terrible attacks came from the wild nations who poured out of the centre and east of Europe. The Franks came over the Rhine and its dependent rivers, and made furious attacks upon the peaceful plains, where the Gauls had long lived in security, and reports were everywhere heard of villages harried by wild horsemen, with short double-headed battle-axes, and a. horrible short pike, covered with iron and with several large hooks, like a gigantic artificial minnow, and like it fastened to a long rope, so that the prey which it had grappled might be pulled up to the owner. Walled cities usually stopped them, but Ii6 A Book of Golden Deeds. every farm or villa outside was stripped of its valu- bles, set on fire, the cattle driven off, and the more healthy inhabitants seized for slaves. It was during this state of things that a girl was born to a wealthy peasant at the village now called Nanterre, about two miles from Lutetia, which was already a prosperous city, though not as yet so en- tirely the capital as it was destined to become under the name of Paris. She was christened by an old Gallic name, probably Gwenfrewi, or White Stream, in Latin Genovefa, but she is best known by the late French form of Genevieve. When she was about seven years old, two celebrated bishops passed through the village. Germanus, of Auxerre, and Lupus, of Troyes, who had been invited to Britain to dispute the false doctrine of Pelagius. All the inhabitants flocked into the church to see them, pray with them, and receive their blessing ; and here the sweet childish devotion of Genevieve so struck Germanus, that he called her to him, talked to her, made her sit beside him at the feast, gave her his especial blessing, and presented her with a copper medal with a cross engraven upon it. From that time the little maiden always deemed herself es- pecially consecrated to the service of Heaven, but she still remained at home, daily keeping her father's sheep, and spinning their wool as she sat under the trees watching them, but always with a heart full of prayer. After this St. Germanus proceeded to Britain, and there encouraged his converts to meet the heathen Picts at Maes Garmon, in Flintshire, where the ex- ulting shout of the white-robed catechumens turned to flight the wild superstitious savages of the north, and the Hallelujah victory was gained without a drop of bloodshed. He never lost sight of Gene- vieve, the little maid whom he had so early distin- guished for her piety. After she lost her parents she went to live with The Shepherd Girl of Nanterre. \ 1 7 her godmother, and continued the same simple habits, leading a life of sincere devotion and strict self-denial, constant prayer, and much charity to her poorer neighbors. In the year 451 the whole of Gaul was in the most dreadful state of terror at the advance of At- tila, the savage chief of the Huns, who came from the banks of the Danube with a host of savages of hideous features, scarred and disfigured to render them more frightful. The old enemies, the Goths and the Franks, seemed like friends compared with these formidable beings, whose cruelties were said to be intolerable, and of whom every exaggerated story was told that could add to the horrors of the miserable people who lay in their path. Tidings came that this " Scourge of God," as Attila called himself, had passed the Rhine, destroyed Tongres and Metz, and was in full march for Paris. The whole country was in the utmost terror. Every one seized their most valuable possessions, and would have fled ; but Genevieve placed herself on the only bridge across the Seine, and argued with them, as- suring them, in a strain that was afterwards thought of as. prophetic, that, if they would pray, repent, and defend instead of abandoning their homes, God would protect them. They were at first almost ready to stone her for thus withstanding their panic, but just then a priest arrived from Auxerre, with a present for Genevieve from St. Germanus, and they were thus reminded of the high estimation in which he held her ; they became ashamed of their violence, and she led them back to pray and to arm them- selves. In a few days they heard that Attila had paused to beseige Orleans, and that Ae'tius, the Ro- man general, hurrying from Italy, had united his troops with those of the Goths and Franks, and given Attila so terrible a defeat at Chalons that the Huns were fairly driven out of Gaul. And here it must be mentioned that when the next year, 452, n8 A Book of Golden Deeds. Attila with his murderous host came down into Italy, and after horrible devastation of all the north- ern provinces, came to the gates of Rome, no one dared to meet him but one venerable Bishop, Leo, the Pope, who, when his flock were in transports of despair, went forth only accompanied by one magis- trate, to meet the invader, and endeavor to turn his wrath aside. The savage Huns were struck with awe by the fearless majesty of the unarmed old man. They conducted him safely to Attila, who listened to him with respect, and promised not to lead his peo- ple into Rome, provided a tribute should be paid to him. He then retreated, and, to the joy of all Eu- rope, died on his way back to his native dominions. But with the Huns the danger and suffering of Europe did not en1. Tlie happy state described in the Prophets as " dwelling safely, with none to make them afraid," was utterly unknown in Europe throughout the long break-up of the Roman Em- pire ; and in a few more years the Franks were overrunning the banks of the Seine, and actually venturing to lay siege to the Roman walls of Paris itself. The fortifications were strong enough, but hunger began to do the work of the besiegers, and the garrison, unwarlike and untrained, began to de- spair. But Genevieve's courage and trust never failed ; and finding no warriors willing to run the risk of going beyond the walls to obtain food for the women and children who were perishing around them, this brave shepherdess embarked alone in a little boat, and guiding it down the stream, landed beyond the Prankish camp, and repairing to the dif- ferent Gallic cities, she implored them to send suc- cor to their famished brethren. She obtained com- plete success. Probably the Franks had no means of obstructing the passage of the river, so that a convoy of boats could easily penetrate into the town, and at any rate they looked upon Genevieve as something sacred and inspired whom they durst The Shepherd Girl of A'anterre. 119 not touch ; probably as one of the battle-maids in whom their own myths taught them to believe. One account indeed says that, instead of going alone to obtain help, Genevieve placed herself at the head of a forage party, and that the mere sight of her in- spired bearing caused them to be allowed to enter and return in safety ; but the boat version seems the more probable, since a single boat on the broad river would more easily elude the enemy than a troop of Gauls pass through their army. But a city where all the valor resided in one woman could not long hold out, and in another in- road, when Genevieve was absent, Paris was actually seized by the Franks. Their leader, Hilperik, was absolutely afraid of what the mysteriously brave maiden might do to him, and commanded the gates of the city to be carefully guarded lest she should enter ; but Genevieve learnt that some of the chief citizens were imprisoned, and that Hilperik intended their death, and nothing could withhold her from making an effort in their behalf. The Franks had made up their minds to settle, and not to destroy. They were not burning and slaying indiscriminately, but while despising the Romans, as they called the Gauls, tot their cowardice, they were in awe of their superior civilization and knowledge of arts. The country people had tree access to the city, and Gen- eviove, in her homely gown and veil, passed by Hil- perik's guards without being suspected of being more than any ordinary Gaulish village maid ; and thus she fearlessly made her way, even to the old Roman halls, where the long-haired Hilperik was holding his wild carousal. Would that we knew more of that interview, one of the most striking that ever took place ! We can only picture to our- selves the Roman tasselated pavement bestrewn with wine, bones, and fragments of the barbarous revelry. There were untamed Franks, their sun- burnt hair tied up in a knot at the top of their heads, I2o A Book of Golden Deeds. and falling down like a horse's tail, their faces close shaven, except two huge moustaches, and dressed in tight leather garments, with swords at their wide belts. Some slept, some feasted, some greased their long locks, some shouted out their favorite war-songs around the table, which was covered with the spoils of churches, and at their head sat the wild, long-haired chieftain, who was a few years later driven away by his own followers for his excesses, the whole scene was all that was abhorrent to a pure, devout, and faithful nature, most full of terror to a woman. Yet there, in her strength, stood the peasant maiden, her heart full of trust and pity, her looks full of the power that is given by fearlessness of them that can kill the body. What she said we do not know, we only know that the barbarous Hilperik was over- awed ; he trembled before the expostulations of the brave woman, and granted all she asked, the safety of his prisoners, and mercy to the terrified inhab- itants. No wonder that the people of Paris have ever since looked back to Genevieve as their pro- tectress, and that in after ages she has grown to be the patron saint of the city. She lived to see the son of Hilperik, Chlodweh, or, as he was more commonly called, Clovis, marry a Christian wife, Clotilda, and after a time become a Christian. She saw the foundation of the Cathe- dral of Notre Dame, and of the two famous churches of St. Denys and of St. Martin of Tours, and gave her full share to the first efforts for bringing the rude and bloodthirsty conquerors to some knowl- edge of Christian faith, mercy, and purity. After a life of constant prayer and charity she died, three months after King Clovis, in the year 512, the Syth of her age.* * Perhaps the exploits of the Maid of Orleans were the most like those of Genevieve, but they are not here added to our collection of " Golden Deeds," because the Maid's belief that she was directly in- spired removes them from the ordinary class. Alas ! the English did not treat her as Hilperik treated Genevieve. -LEO THE SLAVE. A. D. 533. *" I ^HE Franks had fully gained possession of all J_ the north of Gaul, except Brittany. Chlodweh had made them Christians in name, but they still remained horribly savage, and the life of the Gauls under them was wretched. The Burgundians and Visigoths who had peopled the southern and east- ern provinces were far from being equally violent. They had entered on their settlements on friendly terms, and even showed considerable respect for the Roman-Gallic senators, magistrates, and higher clergy, who all remained unmolested in their digni- ties and riches. Thus it was that Gregory, Bishop of Langres, was a man of high rank and considera- tion in the Burgundian kingdom, whence the Chris- tian Queen Clotilda had come ; and even after the Burgundians had been subdued by the four sons of Chlodweh, he continued a rich and prosperous man. After one of the many quarrels and reconcilia- tions between these fierce brethren, there was an exchange of hostages for the observance of the terms of the treaty. These were not taken from among the Franks, who were too proud to submit to cap- tivity, but from among the Gaulish nobles, a much more convenient arrangement to the Frankish kings, who cared for the life of a " Roman " infinitely less than even for the life of a Frank. Thus many young 122 A Book of Golden Deeds. men of senatorial families were exchanged between the domains of Theodrik to the south, and of Hilde- bert to the northward, and quartered among Frank- ish chiefs, with whom at first they had nothing more to endure than the discomfort of living as guests with such rude and coarse barbarians. But ere long fresh quarrels broke out between Theodrik and Hilciebeit. and the unfortunate hostages were at once turned into slnves. Some of them ran away if they were near the frontier, but Bishop Gregory was in the utmost anxiety about his young nephew Attains, who had been last heard of as being placed under the charge of a Frank who lived between Treves and Metz. The Bishop sent emissaries to make secret inquiries, and they brought word that the unfortunate you'h had indeed been reduced to slavery, and was made to keep his master's herds of horses. Upon this the uncle again sent oft" his mes- sengers with presents for the ransom of Attains, but the Frank rejected them, saying, "One of such high race can only be redeemed for ten pounds' weight of gold." This was beyond the Bishop's means, and while he was considering how to raise the sum, the slaves were all lamenting for their young lord, to whom they were much attached, till one of them, named Leo, the cook to the household, came to the Bishop, saying to him, " If thou wilt give nje leave to go, I will deliver him from captivity." The Bishop re- plied that he gave free permission, and the slave set off for Treves, and there watched anxiously for an opportunity of gaining access to Attalus ; but though the poor young man no longer daintily dressed, bathed, and perfumed, but ragged and squalid might be seen following his herds of horses, he was too well watched for any communication to be held with him. Then Leo went to a person, probably of Gallic birth, and said, " Come with me to this barba- Leo the Slave. 123 nan's house, and there sell me for a slave. Thou shalt have the money, I only ask thee to help me thus far." Both repaired to the Frank's abode, the chief among a confused collection of clay and timber huts intended for shelter during eating and sleeping. The Frank looked at the slave, and asked him what he could do. " I can dress whatever is eaten at lordly tables," replied Leo. " I am afraid of no rival ; I only tell thee the truth when I say that if thou wouldst give a feast to the king I could send it up in the neatest manner." " Ha ! " said the barbarian, " the Sun's day is coming I shall invite my kinsmen and friends. Cook me such a dinner as may amaze them, and make them say, 'We saw nothing better in the king's house.' " " Let me have plenty of poultry, and I will do ac- cording to my master's bidding," returned Leo. Accordingly, he was purchased for twelve gold pieces, and on the Sunday (as Bishop Gregory of Tours, who tells the story, explains that the barba- rians called the Lord's day) he produced a banquet after the most approved Roman fashion, much to the surprise and delight of the Franks, who had never tasted such delicacies before, and complimented their host upon them all the evening. Leo gradu- ally became a great favorite, and was placed in au- thority over the other slaves, to whom he gave out their daily portions of broth and meat ; but from the first he had not shown any recognition of Attains, and had signed to him that they must be strangers to one another. A whole year had passed away in this manner, when one day Leo wandered, as if for pastime, into the plain where Attalus was watching the horses, and sitting down on the ground at some paces off, and with his back towards his young mas- 124 A Book of Golden Deeds. ter, so that they might not be seen talking together, he said, "This is the time for thoughts of home! When thou hist led the horses to the stable to- night, sleep not. Be ready at the first call ! " That day the Frank lord was entertaining a large number of guests, among them his daughter's hus- band, a jovial yo-ing mxn, given to jesting. On go- ing to rest he fancied he should be thirsty at night, and called Leo to set a pitcher of hydromel by his bedside*. As the slave was setting it down, the Frank looked slyly from under his eyelids, and said in joke, " Tell me, my father-in-law's trusty man, wilt not thou some nig.it take one of thosa horses, and run away to thine own home? " " Please God, it is what I mean to do this very night," answered the Gaul, so undauntedly that the Frank took it as a jest, and answered, '* I shall look out then that thou dost not carry off anything of mine." and then Leo left him, both laughing. All were soon asleep, and the cook crept out to the stable, where Attalus usually slept among the horses. He was broad awake now, and ready to saddle the two swiftest ; but he had no weapon ex- cept a small lance, so Leo boldly went back to his master's sleeping hut, and took down his sword and shield, but not without awaking him enough to ask who was moving. "It is I, Leo," was the an- swer. " I have been to call Attalus to take out the horses early. He sleeps as hard as a drunkard." The Frank went to sleep again, quite satisfied, and Leo, carrying out the weapons, soon made Attalus feel like a free man and a noble once more. They passed unseen out of the enclosure, mounted their horses, and rode along the great Roman road from Treves as far as the Meuse, but they found the bridge guarded, and were obliged to wait till night, when they cast their horses loose and swam the river, supporting themselves on boards that they Leo the Slave. 125 found on the bank. They had as yet had no food since the supper at their master's, and were thank- ful to find a plum-tree in the wood, v.ith fruit, to refresh them in some degree, before they lay down for the night. The next morning they went on in the direction of Rlieims, carefully listening whether there were any sounds behind, until, on the broad hard-paved causeway, they actually heard the tramp- ling of horses. Happily a bush was near, behind which they crept, with their naked swords before them, and here the riders actually halted for a few moments to arrange their harness. Men and horses were both those they feared, and they trembled at hearing one say, "Woe is me that those rogues have made off, and have not been caught ! On my salvation, if I catch them, I will have one hung and the other chopped into little bits ! ' It was no small comfort to hear the trot ot the horses re- sumed, and soon dying away in the distance. That same night the two- faint, hungry, weary travellers, footsore and exhausted, came stumbling into Rlieims, looking about for some person still awake to tell them the way to the house of the Priest Paul, a friend of Attalus's uncle. They found it just as the Church bell was ringing for matins, a sound that must have seemed very like home to these members of an episcopal household. They knocked, and in the morning twilight met the priest going to his earliest Sunday morning service. Leo told his young master's name, and how they had escaped, and the priest's first exclamation was a strange one : " My dream is true. This very night I saw two doves, one white and one black, who came and perched on my hand." The good man was overjoyed, but he scrupled to give them any food, as it was contrary to the Church's rules for the fast to be broken before mass ; but the travellers were half dead with hun- 126 A Book of Golden Deeds. ger, and could only say, " The good Lord pardon us, for, saving the respect due to His day, we must eat something, since this is the fourth day since we have touched bread or meat." The priest upon this gave them some bread and wine, and after hid- ing them carefully, went to church, hoping to avert suspicion ; but their master was already at Rheims, making strict search for them, and learning that Paul the priest was a friend of the Bishop of Lan- gres, he went to church, and there questioned him closely. But the priest succeeded in guarding his secret, and though he incurred much danger, as the Salic law was very severe against concealers of run- away slaves, he kept Attalus and Leo for two days till the search was blown over, and their strength was restored, so that they could proceed to Lan- gres. There they were welcomed like men risen from the dead ; the Bishop wept on the neck of At- talus, and was ready to receive Leo as a slave no more, but a friend and deliverer. A few days after Leo was solemnly led to the church. Every door was set open as a sign that he might henceforth go whithersoever he would. Bishop Gregorius took him by the hand, and, standing before the Archdeacon, declared that for the sake of the good services rendered by his slave, Leo, he set him free, and created him a Roman citizen. Then the Archdeacon read a writing of manumis- sion. " Whatever is done according to the Roman law is irrevocable. According to the constitution of the Emperor Constantine, of happy memory, and the edict that declares that whosoever is manu- mitted in church, in the presence of the bishops, priests, and deacons, shall become a Roman citizen under protection of the Church : from this day Leo becomes a member of the city, free to go and come where he will as if he had been born of free parents. Leo the Slave. 127 From this day fonvard, he is exempt from all sub- jection of servitude, of all duty of a freed-man, all bond of clientship. He is and shall be free, with full and entire freedom, and shall never cease to be- long to the body of Roman citizens." At the same time Leo was endowed with lands, which raised him to the rank of what the Franks called a Roman proprietor, the highest reward in the Bishop's power for the faithful devotion that had incurred such dangers in order to rescue the young Attains from his miserable bondage. Somewhat of the same kind of faithfulness was shown early in the present century by Ivan Simonoff, a soldier servant belonging to Major Kascambo, an officer in the Russian army, who was made prisoner by one of the wild tribes of the Caucasus. But though the soldier's attachment to his master was quite as brave and disinterested as that of the Gallic slave, yet lie was far from being equally blameless in the means he employed, and if his were a golden deed at all. it was mixed with much of iron. Major Kascambo, with a guard of fifty Cossacks, was going to take the command of the Russian out- post of Lars, one of the forts by which the Russian Czars have slowly been carrying on the aggressive warfare that has nearly absorbed into their vast dominions all the mountains between the Caspian and Black Seas. On his way he was set upon by seven hundred horsemen of the savage and inde- pendent tribe of Tchetchenges. There was a sharp fight, more than half his men were killed, and he with the rest made a rampart of the carcasses of their horses, over which they were about to fire their last shots, when the Tchetchenges made a Russian deserter call out to the Cossacks that they would let them all escape provided they would give up their officer. Kascambo on this came forward and delivered himself into their hands ; while the 128 A Book of Golden Deeds. remainder of the troops galloped off. His servant, Ivan, with a mule carrying his baggage, had been hidden in a ravine, and now, instead of retreating with the Cossacks, came to join his master. All the baggage was, however, instantly seized and divided among the Tchetchenges ; nothing was left but a guitar, which they threw scornfully to the Major. He would have let it lie, but Ivan picked it up, and insisted on keeping it. " Why be dis- spirited ? " he said ; " the God of the Russians is great, it is the interest of the robbers to save you, they will do you no harm." Scouts brought word that the Russian outposts were alarmed, and that troops were assembling to rescue the officer. Upon this the seven hundred broke up into small parties, leaving only ten men on foot to conduct the prisoners, whom they forced to take off their iron-shod boots and walk barefoot over stones and thorns, till the Major was so ex- hausted that they were obliged to drag him by cords fastened to his belt. After a terrible journey, the prisoners were placed in a remote village, where the Major had heavy chains fastened to his hands and feet, and another to his neck, with a huge block of oak as a clog at the other end ; they half starved him, and made him sleep on the bare ground of the hut in which he was lodged. The hut belonged to a huge, fierce old man of sixty, named Ibrahim, whose son had been killed in a skirmish with the Russians. This man, together with his son's widow, were continually trying to revenge themselves on their captive. The only person who showed him any kindness was his little grandson, a child of seven years old, called Mamet, who often caressed him, and brought him food by stealth. Ivan was also in the same hut, but less heavily ironed than his master, and able to attempt a few alleviations for his wretched condition. Leo the Slave. 129 An interpreter brought the Major a sheet of paper and a reed pen, and commanded him to write to his friends that he might be ransomed for 10,000 rou- bles, but that if the whole sum were not paid, he would be put to death. He obeyed, but he knew that his friends could not possibly raise such a sum, and his only hope was in the government, which had once ransomed a colonel who had fallen into the hands of the same tribe. These Tchetchenges professed to be Mahometans, but their religion sat very loose upon them, and they were utter barbarians. One piece of respect they paid the Major's superior education was curi- ous, they made him judge in all the disputes that arose. The houses in the village were hollowed out under ground, and the walls only raised three or four feet, and then covered by a flat roof, formed of beaten clay, where the inhabitants spent much of their time. Kascambo was every now and then brought, in all his chains, to the roof of the hut, which served as a tribunal whence he was expected to dispense justice. For instance, a man had com- missioned his neighbor to pay five roubles to a per- son in another valley, but the messenger's horse having died by the way, a cl.iim was set up to the roubles to make up for it. Both parties collected all their friends, and a bloody quarrel was about to take place, when they agreed to refer the question to the prisoner, who was accordingly set upon his judgment-seat. " Pray," said he, " if, instead of giving you five roubles, your comrade had desired you to carry his greetings to his creditor, would not your horse have ied all the same ? " " Most likely." " Then what should you have done with the greetings ? Should you have kept them in compen- sation ? My sentence is that you give back the 9 130 A Book of Golden Deeds. roubles, and that your comrade gives you a greet- ing." The whole assembly approved the decision, and the man only grumbled out, as he gave back the money, " I knew I should lose it, if that dog of a Christian meddled with it." All this respect, however, did not avail to procure any better usage for the unfortunate judge, whose health was suffering severely under his privations. Ivan, however, had recommended himself in the same way as Leo, by his perfections as a cook, and moreover he was a capital buffoon. His fetters were sometimes taken off that he might divert the villagers by his dances and strange antics while his master played the guitar. Sometimes they sang Russian songs together to the instrument, and on these occasions the Major's hands were released that he might play on it ; but one day he was un- fortunately heard playing in his chains for his own amusement, and from that time he was never re- leased from his fetters. In the course of a year, three urgent letters had been sent ; but no notice was taken of them, and Ivan began to despair of aid from home, and set himself to work. His first step was to profess him- self a Mahometan. He durst not tell his master till the deed was done, and then Kascambo was infi- nitely shocked ; but the act did not procure Ivan so much freedom as he had hoped. He was, indeed, no longer in chains, but he was evidently distrusted, and was so closely watched, that the only way in which he could communicate with his master was when they were set to sing together, when they chanted out question and answer in Russ, unsuspected, to the tune of their national airs. He was taken on an ex- pedition against the Russians, and very nearly killed by the suspicious Tchetchenges on one side, and by the Cossacks on the other, as a deserter. He saved a Leo the Slave. 131 young man of the tribe from drowning ; but though he thus earned the friendship of the family, the rest of the villagers hated and dreaded him all the more, since he had not been able to help proving himself a man of courage, instead of the feeble buffoon he had tried to appear. Three months after this expedition, another took place ; but Ivan was not allowed even to know of it He saw preparations making, but nothing was said to him ; only one morning he found the village en- tirely deserted by all the younger men, and as he wandered round it, the aged ones would not speak to him. A child told him that his father meant to kill him, and on the roof of her house stood the sis- ter of the man he had saved, making signals of great terror, and pointing towards Russia. Home he went, and found that, besides old Ibrahim, his mas- ter was watched by a warrior, who had been pre- vented by an intermitting fever from joining the ex- pedition. He was convinced that if the tribe re- turned unsuccessful, the murder of both himself and his master was certain ; but he resolved not to fly alone, and as he busied himself in preparing the meal, he sung the burden of a Russian ballad, inter- mingled with words of encouragement for his mas- ter: The time is come ; Hai Lull ! The time is come, Hai Luli ! Our woe is at end, Hai Lull ! Or we die at once ! Hai Luli ! To-morrow, to-morrow, Hai Luli ! We are off for a town, Hai Luli ! 132 A Book of Golden Deeds. For a fine, fine town, Hai Luli ! But I name no names, Hai Luli ! Courage, courage, master dear, Hai Luli ! Never, never, despair, Hai Luli ! For the God of the Russians is great, Hai Luli ! Poor Kascambo, brolcen down, sick, and despair- ing, only muttered, " Do as you please, only hold your peace." Ivan's cookery incited the additional guard to eat so much supper that he brought on a severe attack of his fever, and was obliged to go home ; but old Ibrahim, instead of going to bed, sat down on a log of wood opposite the prisoner, and seemed resolved to watch him all night. The woman and child went to bed in the inner room, and Ivan signed to his master to take the guitar, and began to dance. The old man's axe was in an open cupboard at the other end of the room, and after many gambols and con- tortions, during which the Major could hardly con- trol his fingers to touch the strings, Ivan succeeded in laying his hand upon it, just when the old man was bending over the fire to mend it. Then, as Ibrahim desired that the music should cease, he cut him down with a single blow, on his own hearth. And the daughter-in-law coming out to see what had happened, he slew her with the same weapon. And then, alas ! in spite of the commands, entreaties, and cries of his master, he dashed into the inner room, and killed the sleeping child, lest it should give the alarm. Kascambo, utterly helpless to save, fell almost fainting upon the bloody floor, and did not cease to reproach Ivan, who was searching the old man's pockets for the key of the fetters, but it Leo the Slave. 133 was not there, nor anywhere else in the hut, and the irons were so heavy that escape was impossible in them. Ivan at last knocked off the clog and the chains on the wrist with the axe, but he could not break the chains round the legs, and could only fasten them as close as he could to hinder them clanking. Then securing all the provision he could carry, and putting his master into his military cloak, obtaining also a pistol and dagger, they crept out, but not on the direct road. It was February, and the ground was covered with snow. All night they walked easily, but at noon the sun so softened it that they sank in at every step, and the Major's chains rendered each motion terrible labor. It was only on the second night that Ivan, with his axe, succeeded in breaking through the fastenings, and by that time the Major's legs were so swollen and stiffened that he could not move without extreme pain. However, he was dragged on through the wild mountain paths, and then over the plains for several days more, till they were on the confines of another tribe of Tchetchenges, who were overawed by Russia, and in a sort of unwilling alliance. Here, however, a sharp storm and a fall into the water completely finished Kascambo's strength, and he sank down on the snow, telling Ivan to go home and explain his fate, and give his last message to his mother. "If you perish here," said Ivan, "trust me, nei- ther your mother nor mine will ever see me." He covered his master with his cloak, gave him the pistol, and walked on to a hut, where "he found a Tchetchenge man, and told him that here was a means of obtaining two hundred roubles. He had only to shelter the Major as a guest for three days, whilst Ivan himself went on to Mosdok, to procure the money, and bring back help for his master. The man was full of suspicion, but Ivan prevailed, and 134 A Book of Golden Deeds. Kascambo was carried into the village, nearly dying, and was very ill all the time of his servant's ab- sence. Ivan set off for the nearest Russian station, where he found some of the Cossacks who had been present when the Major was taken. All eagerly subscribed to raise the two hundred roubles, but the Colonel would not let Ivan go back alone, as he had engaged to do, and sent a guard of Cossacks. This had nearly been fatal to the Major, for as soon as his host saw the lances, he suspected treachery, and dragging his poor sick guest to the roof of the house, he tied him up to a stake, and stood over him with a pistol, shouting to Ivan, " If you come nearer, I shall blow his brains out, and I have fifty cartridges more for my enemies, and the traitor who leads them." " No traitor ! " cried Ivan. " Here are the rou- bles. I have kept my word ! " " Let the Cossacks go back, or I shall fire." Kascambo himself begged the officer to retire, and Ivan went back with the detachment, and re- turned alone. Even then the suspicious host made him count out the roubles at a hundred paces from the house, and at once ordered him out of sight ; but then went up to the roof, and asked the Major's pardon for all this rough usage. " I shall only recollect that you were my host, and kept your word," said Kascambo. In a few hours more, Kascambo was in safety among his brother-officers. Ivan was made a non- commissioned officer, and some months after was seen by the traveller who told the story, whistling the air of Hai Luli at his former master's wedding- feast. He was even then scarcely twenty years old, and peculiarly quiet and soft in manners. THE BATTLE OF THE BLACKWATER. 991. IN the evil days of King Ethelred the Unready, when the teaching of good King Alfred was fast fading away from the minds of his descendants, and self-indulgence was ruining the bold and hardy hab- its of the English, the fleet was allowed to fall into decay, and Danish ships again ventured to appear on the English coasts. The first Northmen \vho had ravaged England came eager for blood and plunder, and hating the sight of a Christian church as an insult to their gods, Thor and Odin ; but the lapse of a hundred years had in some degree changed the temper of the North ; and though almost every young man thought it due to his fame to have sailed forth as a sea-rover, yet the attacks of these marauders might be bought off, and, provided they had treasure to show for their voyage, they were willing to spare the lives and lands of the people of the coasts they visited. King Ethelred and his cowardly, selfish Court were well satisfied with this expedient, and the tax called Danegeld was laid upon the people, in order to raise a fund for buying off the enemy. But there were still in England 'men of bolder and' truer hearts, who held that bribery was false policy, merely in- viting the enemy to come again and again, and that the only wise course would be in driving them back 136 A Book of Golden Deeds. by English valor, and keeping the fleet in a con- dition to repel the " Long Serpent " ships before the foe could set foot upon the coast. Among those who held this opinion was Bryth- noth, Earl of Essex. He was of partly Danish descent himself, but had become a thorough Eng- lishman, and had long and faithfully ser\ed the king and his father. He was a friend to the clergy, a founder of churches and convents, and his manor- house of Hadleigh was a home of hospitality and charity. It would probably be a sort of huge farm- yard, full of great barn-like buildings and sheds, all one story high ; some of them serving for store- houses, and others for living-rooms and places of entertainment for his numerous servants and retain- ers, and for the guests of all degrees who gathered round him as the chief dispenser of justice in his East-Saxon earldom. When he heard the advice given and accepted that the Danes should be bribed, instead of being fought with, he made up his mind that he, at least, would try to raise up a nobler spirit, and, at the sacrifice of his own life, would show the effect of making a manful stand against them. He made his will, and placed it in the hands of the Archbishop of Canterbury ; and then, retiring to Hadleigh, he provided horses and arms, and caused all the young men in his earldom to be trained in warlike exercises, according to the good old English law, that every man should be provided with weapons, and know the use of them. The Danes sailed forth, in the year 991, with ninety-three vessels, the terrible " Long Serpents," carved with snakes' heads at the prow, and the stern finished as the gilded tail of ihe reptile ; and many a lesser ship, meant for carrying plunder. The Sea King, Olaf (or Anlaff), was the leader; and as tidings came that their sails had been seen The Battle of the Blackwater. 137 upon the North Sea, more earnest than ever rang out the petition in the Litany, " From the fury of the Northmen, good Lord, deliver us." Sandwich and Ipswich made no defence, and were plundered ; and the fleet then sailed into the mouth of the river Blackwater, as far as Maldon, where the ravagers landed, and began to collect spoil. When, however, they came back to their ships, they found that the tide would not yet serve them to re-embark ; and upon the farther bank of the river bristled the spears of a body of warriors, drawn up in battle array, but in numbers far inferior to their own. Anlaff sent a messenger, over the wooden bridge that crossed the river, to the Earl, who, he under- stood, commanded this small army. The brave old man, his gray hair hanging down beneath his hel- met, stood, sword in hand, at the head of his war- riors. " Lord Earl," said the messenger, " I come to bid thee to yield to us thy treasure, for thy safety. Buy off the fight, and we will ratify a peace with gold." " Hear, O thou sailor ! " was Brythnoth's answer, "the reply of this people. Instead of Danegeld, thou shalt have from them the edge of the sword, and the point of the spear. Here stands an Eng- lish Earl, who will defend his earldom and the lands of his king. Point and edge shall judge between us." Back went the Dane with his message to Anlaff, and the fight began around the bridge, where the Danes long strove to force their way across, but were always driven back by the gallant East-Sax- ons. The tide had risen, and for some time the two armies only shot at one another with bows and arrows ; but when it ebbed, leaving the salt-marshes dry, the stout old Earl's love of fair-play overpow- 138 A Book of Golden Deeds. ered his prudence, and he sent to offer the enemy a free passage, and an open field in which to measure their strength. The numbers were too unequal ; but the battle was long and bloody before the English could be overpowered. Brythnoth slew one of the chief Danish leaders with his own hand, but not without receiving a wound. He was still able to fight on, though with ebbing strength and failing numbers. His hand was pierced by a dart ; but a young boy at his side instantly withdrew it, and, launching it back again, slew the foe who had aimed it. An- other Dane, seeing the Earl faint and sinking, ad- vanced to plunder him of his ring and jewelled weapons ; but he still had strength to lay the spoiler low with his battle-axe. This was his last blow ; he gathered his strength for one last cheer to his brave men, and then, sinking on the ground, he looked up to heaven, exclaiming : " I thank thee, Lord of nations, for all the joys I have known on earth. Now, O mild Creator ! have I the utmost need that Thou shouldst grant grace unto my soul, that my spirit may speed to Thee with peace, O King of angels ! to pass into Thy keeping. I sue to Thee that Thou suffer not the rebel spirits of hell to vex my parting soul ! " With these words he died ; but an aged follower, of like spirit, stood over his corpse, and exhorted his fellows. " Our spirit shall be the hardier, and our soul the greater, the fewer our numbers be- come ! " he cried. " Here lies our chief, the brave, the good, the much-loved lord, who has blessed us with many a gift. Old as I am, I will not yield, but avenge his death, or lay me at his side. Shame befall him -that thinks to fly from such a field as this ! " Nor did the English warriors fly. Night came down, at last, upon the battle-field, and saved the The Battle of the Blackwater. 139 lives of the few survivors ; but they were forced to leave the body of their lord, and the Danes bore away with them his head as a trophy, and with it, alas ! ten thousand pounds of silver from the king, who, in his sluggishness and weakness, had left Brythnoth to fight and die unaided for the cause of the whole nation. One of the retainers, a minstrel in the happy old days of Hadleigh, who had done his part manfully in the battle, had heard these last goodly sayings of his master, and, living on to peaceful days, loved to rehearse them to the sound of his harp, and dwell on the glories of one who could die, but not be defeated. Ere those better days had come, another faithful- hearted Englishman had given his life for his people. In the year 1012, a huge army, called, from their leader, " Thorkill's Host," were overrunning Kent, and besieging Canterbury. The Archbishop /Elfeg was earnestly entreated to leave the city while yet there was time to escape ; but he replied, " None but a hireling would leave his flock in time of dan- ger " ; and he supported the resolution of the in- habitants, so that they held out the city for twenty days ; and as the wild Danes had very little chance against a well-walled town, they would probably have saved it, had not the gates been secretly opened to them by the traitorous Abbot ALlfman, whom /Elfeg had once himself saved, when accused of treason before the king. The Danes slaughtered all whom they found in the streets, and the Archbishop's friends tried to keep him in the church, lest he should run upon his fate ; but he broke from them, and, confronting the enemy, cried : " Spare the guiltless ! Is there glory- in shedding such blood ? Turn your wrath on me ! It is I who have denounced your cruelty, have ransomed and re-clad your captives." The Danes seized upon him,, and, after he had seen his 140 A Book of Golden Deeds. cathedral burnt and his clergy slain, they threw him into a dungeon, whence he was told he could only come forth upon the payment of a heavy ransom. His flock loved him, and would have striven to raise the sum ; but, miserably used as they were by the enemy, and stripped by the exactions of the Danes, he would not consent that they should be asked for a further contribution on his account. After seven months' patience in his captivity, the Danish chiefs, who were then at Greenwich, desired him to be brought into their camp, where they had just been holding a great feast. It was Easter-eve, and the quiet of that day of calm waiting was dis- turbed with their songs, and shouts of drunken revelry, as the chained Archbishop was led to the open space where the warriors sat and lay amid the remains of their rude repast. The leader then told him that they had agreed to let him off for his own share with a much smaller payment than had been demanded, provided he would obtain a largesse for them from the king, his master. " I am not the man," he answered, " to provide Christian flesh for Pagan wolves " ; and when again they repeated the demand, " Gold I have none to offer you, save the true wisdom of the knowledge of the living God." And he began, as he stood in the midst, to " reason to them of righteousness, temper- ance, and judgment to come." They were mad with rage and drink. The old man's voice was drowned with shouts of '* Gold, Bishop, give us gold ! " The bones and cups that lay around were hurled at him, and he fell to the ground, with the cry, " O Chief Shepherd, guard Thine own children ! " As he partly raised himself, axes were thrown at him ; and, at last, a Dane, who had begun to love and listen to him in his captivity, deemed it mercy to give him a death-blow with an axe. The English maintained that ^Elfeg had died 77/i? Battle of the Blackivater. 141 to save his flock from cruel extortion, and held him as a saint and martyr, keeping his death-day (the 1 9th of April) as a holiday ; and when the Italian Archbishop of Canterbury (Lanfranc) disputed his right to be so esteemed, there was strong opposi- tion and discontent. Indeed, our own Prayer-book still retains his name, under the altered form of St. Alphege ; and surely no one better merits to be remembered, for having loved his people far better than himself. GUZMAN EL BUENO. 1293. IN the early times of Spanish history, before the Moors had been expelled from the peninsula, or the blight of Western gold had enervated the nation, the old honor and loyalty of the Gothic race were high and pure, fostered by constant combats with a generous enemy. The Spanish Arabs were indeed the flower of the Mahometan races, endowed with the vigor and honor of the desert tribes, yet capable of culture and civilization, excelling all other nations of their time in science and art, and almost the equals of their Christian foes in the attributes of chivalry. Wars with them were a constant cru- sade, consecrated in the minds of the Spaniards as being in the cause of religion, and yet in some de- gree freed from savagery and cruelty by the respect exacted by the honorable character of the enemy, and by the fact that the civilization and learning of the Christian kingdoms were far more derived from the Moors than from the kindred nations of Europe. By the close of the thirteenth century, the Chris- tian kingdoms of Castille and Aragon were descend- ing from their mountain fastnesses, and spreading over the lovely plains of the south, even to the Mediterranean coast, as one beautiful Moorish city after another yielded to the persevering advances Guzman el Bueno. 143 ot the children of the Goths ; and in 1291 the nephew of our own beloved Eleanor of Castille, Sancho V. called El Bravo, ventured to invest the city of Tarifa. This was the western buttress of the gate of the Mediterranean, the base of the northern Pillar of Hercules, and esteemed one of the gates of Spain. By it five hundred years previously had the Moorish enemy first entered Spain at the summons of Count Julian, under their leader Tarif-abu-Zearah, whose name was bestowed upon it in remembrance of his landing there. The form of the ground is said to be like a broken punch-bowl, with the broken part towards the sea. The Moors had fortified the city with a surrounding wall and twenty-six towers, and had built a castle with a lighthouse on a small adja- cent island, called Isla Verde, which they had con- nected with the city by a causeway. Their fortifica- tions, always admirable, have existed ever since, and in 1811, another five hundred years after, were suc- cessfully defended against the French by a small force of British troops under the command of Colo- nel Hugh Gough, better known in his old age as the victor of Aliwal. The walls were then unable to support the weight of artillery, for which of course they had never been built, but were perfectly effec- tive against escalade. For six months King Sancho besieged Tarifa by land and sea, his fleet, hired from the Genoese, ly- ing in the waters where the battle of Trafalgar was to be fought. The city at length yielded under stress of famine, but the king feared that he had no resources to enable him to keep it, and intended to dismantle and forsake it, when the Grand Master of the military order of Calatrava offered to undertake the defence with his knights for one year, hoping that some other noble would come forward at the end of that time and take the charge upon himself. 144 A Book of Golden Deeds. He was not mistaken. The noble who made himself responsible for this post of danger was a Leonese knight of high distinction, by name Alonso Perez de Guzman, already called El Bueno. or " The Good," from the high qualities he had manifested in the service of the late king, Don Alonso VI., by whom he had always stood when the present king, Don Sancho, was in rebellion. The offer was read- ily accepted, and the whole Guzman family removed to Tarifa, with the exception of the eldest son, who was in the train of the Infant Don Juan, the second son of the late king, who had always taken part with his father against his brother, and on Sancho's ac- cession, continued his enmity, and fled to Portugal. The king of Portugal, however, being requested by Sancho not to permit him to remain there, he proceeded to offer his services to the king of Mo- rocco, Yusuf-ben-Yacoub, for whom he undertook to recover Tarifa, if 5,000 horse were granted to him for the purpose. The force would have been most disproportionate for the attack of such a city as Ta- rifa, but Don Juan reckoned on means that he had already found efficacious ; when he had obtained the surrender of Zamora to his father by threatening to put to death a child of the lady in command of the fortress. Therefore, after summoning Tarifa at the head of his 5,000 Moors, he led forth before the gates the boy who had been confided to his care, and declared that, unless the city were yielded instantly, Guzman should behold the death of his own son at his hand ! Before, he had had to deal with a weak woman on a question of divided allegiance. It was otherwise here. The point was whether the city should be made over to the enemies of the faith and country, whether the plighted word of a loyal knight should be broken. The boy was held in the grasp of the cruel prince, stretching out his hands and weeping Guzman el Bueno. 145 as he saw his father upon the walls. Don Alonso's eyes, we are told, filled with tears as he cast one long, last look at his firstborn, whom he might not save except at the expense of his truth and honor. The struggle was bitter, but he broke forth at last in these words : u I did not beget a son to be made use of against my country, but that he should serve her against her foes. Should Don Juan put him to death, he will but confer honor on me, true life on my son, and on himself eternal shame in this world and everlasting wrath after death. So far am I from yielding this place or betraying my trust, that in case he should want a weapon for his cruel purpose, there goes my knife ! " He cast the knife in his belt over the walls, and returned to the castle, where, commanding his coun- tenance, he sat down to table with his wife. Loud shouts of horror and dismay almost instantly called him forth again. He was told that Don Juan had been seen to cut the boy's throat in a transport of blind rage. " I thought the enemy had broken in," he calmly said, and went back again. The Moors themselves were horror-struck at the atrocity of their ally, and as the siege was hopeless they gave it up ; and Don Juan, afraid and ashamed to return to Morocco, wandered to the court of Granada. King Sancho was lying sick at Alcala de Henares when the tidings of the price of Guzman's fidelity reached him. Touched to the depths of his heart, he wrote a letter to his faithful subject, comparing his sacrifice to that of Abraham, confirming to him the surname of Good, lamenting his own inability to come and offer his thanks and regrets, but entreat- ing Guzman's presence at Alcala. All the way thither, the people thronged to see the man true to his word at such a fearful cost. The court was sent out to meet him, and the king, after 146 A Book of Golden Deeds. embracing him, exclaimed, " Here learn, ye knights, what are exploits of virtue. Behold your model." Lands and honors were heaped upon Alonso de Guzman, and they were not a mockery of his loss, for he had other sons to inherit them. He was the stanch friend of Sancho's widow and son in a long and perilous minority, and died full of years and honors. The lands granted to him were those of Medina Sidonia, which lie between the rivers Gua- diana and Guadalquivir, and they have ever since been held by his descendants, who still bear the honored name of Guzman, witnessing that the man who gave the life of his firstborn rather than break his faith to the king has left a posterity as noble and enduring as any family in Europe. ^ ^r * f FAITHFUL TILL DEATH. 1308. ONE of the ladies most admired by the ancient Romans was Arria, the wife of Caecina Paetus, a Roman who was condemned by the Emperor Claudius to become his own executioner. Seeing him waver, his wife, who was resolved to be with him in death as in life, took the dagger from his hand, plunged it into her own breast, and with her last strength held it out to him, gasping out, " It is not painful, my Paetus." Such was heathen faithfulness even to death ; and where the teaching of Christianity had not for- bidden the taking away of life by one's own hand, perhaps wifely love could not go higher. Yet Chris- tian women have endured a yet more fearful ordeal to their tender affection, watching, supporting, and finding unfailing fortitude to uphold the sufferer in agonies that must have rent their hearts. Natalia was the fair young wife of Adrian, an of- ficer at Nicomedia, in the guards of the Emperor Galerius Maximianus, and only about twenty-eight years old. Natalia was a Christian, but her hus- band remained a pagan, until, when he was charged with the execution of some martyrs, their constancy, coupled with the testimony of his own wife's virtues, triumphed over his unbelief, and he confessed him- self likewise a Christian. He was thrown into 148 A Book of Golden Deeds. prison, and sentenced to death, but he prevailed on his gaoler to permit him to leave the dungeon for a time, that he might see his wife. The report came to Natalia that he was no longer in prison, and she threw herself on the ground, lamenting aloud : " Now will men point at me, and say, ' Behold the wife of the coward and apostate, who, for fear of death, hath denied his God.' " " O, thou noble and strong-hearted woman," said Adrian's voice at the door, " I bless God that I am not unworthy of thee. Open the door, that I may bid thee farewell." But this was not the last farewell, though he duly went back to the prison ; for when, the next day, he had been cruelly scourged and tortured before the tribunal, Natalia, with her hair cut short, and wear- ing the disguise of a youth, was there to tend and comfort him. She took him in* her arms, saying, " O, light of mine eyes, and husband of mine heart, blessed art thou, who art chosen to suffer for Christ's sake." On the following day, the tyrant ordered that Adrian's limbs should be one by one struck off on a blacksmith's anvil, and lastly his head. And still it was his wife who held him and sustained him through all, and, ere the last stroke of the execu- tioner, had received his last breath. She took up one of the severed hands, kissed it, and placed it in her bosom, and escaping to Byzantium, there spent her life in widowhood. Nor among these devoted wives should we pass by Gertrude, the wife of Rudolph, Baron von der Wart, a Swabian nobleman, who was so ill-advised as to join in a conspiracy of Johann of Hapsburg, in 1308, against the Emperor, Albrecht I., the son of the great and good Rudolf of Hapsburg. This Johann was the son of the Emperor's broth- er Rudolf, a brave knight who had died young, and Faithful till Death. 149 Johann had been brought up by a baron called Wal- ther von Eschenbach, until, at nineteen years old, he went to his uncle to demand his father's inherit- ance. Albrecht was a rude and uncouth man, and refused disdainfully the demand, whereupon the noblemen of the disputed territory stirred up the young prince to form a plot against him, all having evidently different views of the lengths to which they would proceed. This was just at the time that the Swiss, angry at the overweening and oppressive behavior of Albrecht's governors, were first taking up arms to maintain that they owed no duty to him as Duke of Austria, but merely as Emperor of Ger- many. He set out on his way to chastise them as rebels, taking with him a considerable train, of whom his nephew Johann was one. At Baden, Jo- hann, as a last experiment, again applied for his inheritance, but by way of answer, Albrecht held out a wreath of flowers, telling him they better be- came his years than did the cares of government. He burst into tears, threw the wreath upon the ground, and fed his mind upon the savage purpose of letting his uncle find out what he was fit for. By and by, the party came to the banks of the Reuss, where there was no bridge, and only one single boat to carry the whole across. The first to cross were the Emperor with one attendant, be- sides his nephew and four of the secret partisans of Johann. Albrecht's son Leopold was left to fol- low with the rest of the suite, and the Emperor rode on towards the hills of his home, towards the Castle of Ilapsbtirg, where his father's noble qual- ities had earned the reputation which was the cause of all the greatness of the line. Suddenly his nephew rode up to him, and while one of the con- spirators seized the bridle of his horse, exclaimed, ''Will you now restore my inheritance?" and wounded him in the neck. The attendant fld ; 1 50 A Book of Golden Deeds. Der Wart, who had never thought murder was to be a part of the scheme, stood aghast, but the other two fell on the unhappy Albrecht, and each gave him a mortal wound, and then all five fled in differ- ent directions. The whole horrible affair took place full in view of Leopold and the army on the other side of the river, and when it became possible for any of them to cross, they found that the Emperor had just expired, with his head in the lap of a poor woman. The murderers escaped into the Swiss moun- tains, expecting shelter there ; but the stout, hon- est men of the cantons were resolved not to have any connection with assassins, and refused to pro- tect them. Johann himself, after long and miser- able wanderings in disguise, bitterly repented, owned his crime to the Pope, and was received into a convent ; Eschenbach escaped, and lived fif- teen years as a cowherd. The others all fell into the hands of the sons and daughters of Albrecht, and woful was the revenge that was taken upon them, and upon their innocent families and re- tainers. That Leopold, who had seen his father slain be- fore his eyes, should have been deeply incensed, was not wonderful, and his elder brother Frederick, as Duke of Austria, was charged with the execu- tion of justice ; but both brothers were horribly savage and violent in their proceedings, and their sister Agnes surpassed them in her atrocious thirst for vengeance. She was the wife of the king of Hungary, very clever and discerning, and also sup- posed to be very religious, but all better thoughts were swept away by her furious passion. She had nearly strangled Eschenbach's infant son with her own hands, whan he was rescued from her by her own soldiers, and when she was watching the be- heading of sixty-three vassals of another of the Faithful till Death. 151 murderers, she repeatedly exclaimed, " Now I bathe in May dew." Once, indeed, she met with a stern rebuke. A hermit, for whom she had of- fered to build a convent, answered her, " Woman, God is not served by shedding innocent blood and by building convents out of the plunder of families, but by compassion and forgiveness of injuries." Rudolf von der Wart received the horrible sen- tence of being broken on the wheel. On his trial the Emperor's attendant declared that Der Wart had attacked Albert with his dagger, and the cry, " How long will ye suffer this carrion to sit on horseback ? " but he persisted to the last that he had been taken by surprise by the murder. How- ever, there was no mercy for him ; and, by the express command of Queen Agnes, after he had been bound upon one wheel, and his limbs broken by heavy blows from the executioner, he was fast- ened to another wheel, which was set upon a pole, where he was to linger out the remaining hours of his life. His young wife, Gertrude, who had clung to him through all his trial, was torn away and car- ried off to the Castle of Kyburg ; but she made her escape at dusk, and found her way, as night came on, to the spot where her husband hung still living upon the wheel. That night of agony was described in a letter ascribed to Gertrude herself. The guard left to watch fled at her approach, and she prayed beneath the scaffold ; and then, heaping some heavy logs of wood together, was able to climb up near enough to embrace him and stroke back the hair from his fare, whilst he entreated her to leave him, lost she should be found there, and fall under the cruel revenge of the Queen, telling her that thus it would be possible to increase his suffering. " I will die with you," she said, " 't is for that I came, and no power shall force me from you " ; and she prayed for the one mercy she hoped for, speedy death for her husband. 152 A Book of Golden Deeds. In Mrs. Hemans's beautiful words : " And bid me not depart," she cried, " My Rudolf, say not so ; This is no time to quit thy side, Peace, peace, I cannot go ! Hath the world aught for me to fear When death is on thy brow ? The world ! what means it ? Mine is here ! I will not leave thee now. " I have been with thee in thine hour Of glory and of bliss ; Doubt not its memory's living power To strengthen me through this. And thou, mine honored love and true, Bear on, bear nobly on ; We have the blessed heaven in view, Whose rest shall soon be won." When day began to break, the guard returned, and Gertrude took down her stage of wood and con- tinued kneeling at the foot of the pole. Crowds of people came to look, among them the wife of one of the officials, whom Gertrude implored to intercede that her husband's sufferings might be ended ; but though this- might not be, some pitied her, and tried to give her wine and confections, which she could not touch. The priest came and exhorted Rudolf to confess the crime, but with a great effort he re- peated his former statement of innocence. A band of horsemen rode by. Among them was the young Prince Leopold and his sister Agnes herself, clad as a knight. They were very angry at the compassion shown by the crowd, and after frightfully harsh language commanded that Gertrude should be dragged away ; but one of the nobles interceded for her, and when she had been carried away to a little distance her entreaties were heard, and she was allowed to break away and come back Faithful till Death. 153 to her husband. The priest blessed Gertrude, gave her his hand, and said, u Be faithful unto death, and God will give you the crown of life," and she was no further molested. Night came on, and with it a stormy wind, whose howling mingled with the voice of her prayers, and whistled in the hair of the sufferer. One of the guard brought her a cloak. She climbed on the wheel, and spread the covering over her husband's limbs ; then fetched some water in her shoe, and moistened his lips with it, sustaining him above all with her prayers, and exhortations to look to the joys beyond. He had ceased to try to send her away, and thanked her for the comfort she gave him. And still she watched when morning came again, and noon passed over her, and it was verging to evening, when for the last time he moved his head ; and she raised herself so as to be close to him. With a smile, he murmured, " Gertrude, this is faithfulness till death," and died. She knelt down to thank God for having enabled her to re- main for that last breath : " While even as o'er a martyr's grave She knelt on that sad spot, And, weeping, blessed the God who gave Strength to forsake it not ! " She found shelter in a convent at Basle, where she spent the rest of her life in a quiet round of Erayer and good works ; till the time came when er widowed heart should find its true rest forever. WHAT IS BETTER THAN SLAYING A DRAGON. 1332. r I "HE next story we have to tell is so strange and JL wild, that it would seem better to befit the cloudy times when history had not yet been disen- tangled from fable, than the comparatively clear light of the fourteenth century. It took place in the island of Rhodes. This Greek isle had become the home of the Knights of St. John, or Hospitaliers, an order of sworn brethren who had arisen at the time of the Crusades. At first they had been merely monks, who kept open house for the reception of the poor penniless pil- grims who arrived at Jerusalem in need of shelter, and often of nursing and healing. The good monks not only fed and housed them, but did their best to cure the many diseases that they would catch in the toilsome journey in that feverish climate ; and thus it has come to pass that the word hospitium, which in Latin only means an inn, has, in modern lan- guages, given birth, on the one hand, to hotel, or lodging-house, on the other, to hospital, or house of healing. The Hospital at Jerusalem was called af- ter St. John the Almoner, a charitable Bishop of old, and the brethren were Hospitaliers. By and by, when the first Crusade was over, and there was a great need of warriors to maintain the Christian cause in Jerusalem, the Hospitaliers thought it What is Belter than Slaying a Dragon. 155 a pity that so many strong arms should be pre- vented from exerting themselves, by the laws that forbade the clergy to do battle, and they obtained permission from the Pope to become warriors as well as monks. They were thus all in one, knights, priests, and nurses ; their mon- asteries were both castles and hospitals ; and the sick pilgrim or wounded Crusader was sure of all the best tendance and medical care that the times could afford, as well as of all the ghostly com- fort and counsel that he might need, and, if he recovered, he was escorted safely down to the sea- shore by a party strong enough to protect him from the hordes of robber Arabs. All this was for char- ity's sake, and without reward. Surely the consti- tution of the Order was as golden as its badge, the eight-pointed cross, which the brethren wore round their neck. They wore it also in white over their shoulder upon a black mantle. And the knights who had been admitted to the full honors of the Order had a scarlet surcoat, likewise with the white cross, over their armor. The whole brother- hood was under the command of a Grand Master, who was elected in a chapter of all the knights, and to whom all vowed to render implicit obedience. Good service in all their three capacities had been done by the Order as long as the Crusaders were able to keep a footing in the Holy Land ; but they were driven back step by step, and at last, in 1291, their last stronghold at Acre was taken, after much desperate fighting, and the remnant of the Hospi- taliers sailed away to the isle of Cyprus, where, after a few years, they recruited their forces, and, in 1307, captured the island of Rhodes, which had been a nest of Greek and Mahometan pirates. Here they remained, hoping for a fresh Crusade to recover the Holy Sepulchre, and in the mean time fulfilling their old mission as the protectors and nurses of the 1 56 A Book of Golden Deeds. weak. All the Mediterranean Sea was infested by corsairs from the African coast and the Greek isles, and these brave knights, becoming sailors as well as all they had been before, placed their red flag with its white cross at the mast-head of many a gallant vessel that guarded the peaceful traveller, hunted down the cruel pirate, and brought home his Chris- tian slave, rescued from laboring at the oar, to the Hospital for rest and tendance. Or their treasures were used in redeeming the captives in the pirate cities. No knight of St. John might offer any ran- som for himself save his sword and scarf; but for the redemption of their poor fellow-Christians their wealth was ready, and many a captive was released from toiling in Algiers or Tripoli, or still worse, from rowing the pirate vessels, chained to fhe oar, between the decks, and was restored to health and returned to his friends, blessing the day he had been brought into the curving harbor of Rhodes, with the fine fortified town of churches and monasteries. Some eighteen years after the conquest of Rhodes, the whole island was filled with dismay by the rav- ages of an enormous creature, living in a morass at the foot of Mount St Stephen, about two miles from the city of Rhodes. Tradition calls it a dragon, and whether it were a crocodile or a serpent is un- certain. There is reason to think that the monsters of early creation were slow in becoming extinct, or it is not impossible that either a crocodile or a py- thon might have been brought over by storms or currents from Africa, and have grown to a more formidable size than usual in solitude among the marshes, while the island was changing owners. The reptile, whatever it might be, was the object of extreme dread ; it devoured sheep and cattle, when they came down to the water, and even young shep- herd-boys were missing. And the pilgrimage to the Chapel of St Stephen, on the hill above its lair, was What is Better than Slaying a Dragon. 157 especially a service of danger, for pilgrims were be- lieved to be snapped up by the dragon before they could mount the hill. Several knights had gone out to attempt the de- struction of the creature, but not one had returned, and at last the Grand Master, Helion de Yilleneuve, forbade any further attacks to be made. The dragon is said to have been covered with scales that were perfectly impenetrable either to arrows or any cut- ting weapon ; and the severe loss that encounters with him had cost the Order, convinced the Grand Master that he must be let alone. However, a young knight, named Dieudonne" de Gozon, was by no means willing to acquiesce in the decree : perhaps all the less because it came after he had once gone out .in quest of the monster, but had returned, by his own confession, without strik- ing a blow. He requested leave of absence, and went home for a time to his father's castle of Gozon, in Languedoc ; and there he caused a model of the monster to be made. He had observed that the scales did not protect the animal's belly, though it was almost impossible to get a blow at it. owing to its tremendous teeth, and the furious strokes of its length of taiL He therefore caused this part of his model to be made hollow, and tilled with food, and obtaining two fierce young mastiffs, he trained them to fly at the under side of the monster, while he mounted his war-horse, and endeavored to acccus- tom it likewise to attack the strange shape without swerving. When he thought the education of horse and dogs complete, he returned to Rhodes ; but fearing to be prevented from carrying out his design, he did not land at the city, but on a remote part of the coast, whence he made his way to the Chapel of St. Stephen. There, after having recommended him- self to God, he left his two French squires, desiring 158 A Book of Golden Deeds. them to return home if he were slain, but to watch and come to him if he killed the dragon, or were only hurt by it. He then rode down the hillside, and towards the haunt of the dragon. It roused it- self at his advance, and at first he charged it with his lance, which was perfectly useless against the scales. His horse was quick to perceive the differ- ence between the true and the false monster, and started back, so that he was forced to leap to the ground ; but the two dogs were more stanch, and sprang at the animal, whilst their master struck at it with his sword, but still without reaching a vulner- able part, and a blow from the tail had thrown him down, and the dragon was turning upon him, when the movement left the undefended belly exposed. Both mastiffs fastened on it at once, and the knight, regaining his feet, thrust his sword into it. There was a death -grapple, and finally the servants, com- ing down the hill, found their knight lying apparent- ly dead under the carcass of the dragon. When they had extricated him, taken off his helmet, and sprinkled him with water, he recovered, and pres- ently was led into the city amid the ecstatic shouts of the whole populace, who conducted him in tri- umph to the palace of the Grand Master. We have seen how Titus Manlius was requited by his father for his breach of discipline. It was somewhat in the same manner that Helion de Ville- neuve received Dieudonne. We borrow Schiller's beautiful version of the conversation that took place, as the young knight, pale, with his black mantle rent, his shining armor dinted, his scarlet surcoat stained with blood, came into the Knights' Great Hall. " Severe and grave was the Master's brow, Quoth he, ' A hero bold art thou, By valor 't is that knights are known ; A valiant spirit hast thou shown ; What is Better than Slaying a Dragon. 159 But the first duty of a knight, Now tell, who vows for CHRIST to fight And bears the Cross on his coat of mail.' The listeners all with fear grew pale, While, bending lowly, spake the knight, His cheeks with blushes burning, ' He who the Cross would bear aright, Obedience must be learning.' " Even after hearing the account of the conflict, the Grand Master did not abate his displeasure. " ' My son, the spoiler of the land Lies slain by thy victorious hand, Thou art the people's god, but so Thou art become thine Order's foe ; A deadlier foe thine heart has bred Than this which by thy hand is dead, That serpent still the heart defiling, To ruin and to strife beguiling ; It is that spirit rash and bold, That scorns the bands of order ; Rages against them uncontrolled Till earth is in disorder. " ' Courage by Saracens is shown, Submission is the Christian's own ; And where our Saviour, high and holy, Wandered a pilgrim, poor and lowly, Upon that ground with mystery fraught, The fathers of our Order taught The duty hardest to fulfil Is to give up our own self-will, Thou art elate with glory vain. Away then from rhy sight ! Who can his Saviour's yoke disdain, Bears not his Cross aright.' " An angry cry burst from the crowd, The hall rang with their tumult loud ; Each knightly brother prayed for grace. The victor downward bent his face, 160 A Book of Golden Deeds, Aside his cloak in silence laid, Kissed the Grand Master's hand, nor stayed. The Master watched him from the hall, Then summoned him with loving call, ' Come to embrace me, noble son, Thine is the conquest of the soul ; Take up the Cross, now truly won, By meekness and by self-control.' " The probation of Dieudonne is said to have been somewhat longer than the poem represents, but after the claims of discipline had been established, he became a great favorite with stern old Villeneuve, and the dragon's head was set up over the gate of the city, where Thevenot professed to have seen it in the seventeenth century, and said that it was larger than that of a horse, with a huge mouth and teeth and very large eyes. The name of Rhodes is said to come from a Phoenician word meaning a serpent, and the Greeks called this the Isle of Ser- pents, which is all in favor of the truth of the story. But, on the other hand, such traditions often are prompted by the sight of the fossil skeletons of the dragons of the elder world, and are generally to be met with where such minerals prevail as are found in the northern part of Rhodes. The tale is disbe- lieved by many, but it is hard to suppose it an entire invention, though the description of the monster may have been exaggerated. Dieudonne' de Gozon was elected to the Grand Mastership after the death of Villeneuve, and is said to have voted for hjmself. If so, it seems as if he might have had, in his earlier days, an over- weening opinion of his own abilities. However, he was an excellent Grand Master, a great soldier, and much beloved by all the poor peasants of the island, to whom he was exceedingly kind. He died in 1353, and his tomb is said to have been only in- scribed with these words : " Here lies the Dragon Slayer." THE KEYS OF CALAIS. 1347- "\TOWHERE does the continent of Europe ap- l\l proach Great Britain so closely as at the Straits of Dover, and when our sovereigns were full of the vain hope of obtaining the crown of France, or at least of regaining the. great possessions that their forefathers had owned as French nobles, there was no spot so coveted by them as the fortress of Calais, the possession of which gave an entrance into France. Thus it was that when, in 1346, Edward III. had beaten Philippe VI. at the battle of Crecy, the first use he made of his victory was to march upon Calais, and lay siege to it. The walls were exceed- ingly strong and solid, mighty defences of masonry, of huge thickness and like rocks for solidity, guarded it, and the king knew that it would be useless to attempt a direct assault. Indeed, during all the middle ages, the modes of protecting fortifications were far more efficient than the modes of attacking them. The walls could be made enormously mas- sive, the towers raised to a great height, and the defenders so completely sheltered by battlements that they could not easily be injured, and could take aim from the top of their turrets, or from their loop- hole windows. The gates had absolute little castles 1 62 A Book of Golden Deeds. of their own, a moat flowed round the walls full of water, and only capable of being crossed by a draw- bridge, behind which the portcullis, a grating armed beneath with spikes, was always ready to drop from the archway of the gate and close up the entrance. The only chance of taking a fortress by direct attack was to fill up the moat with earth and faggots, and then raise ladders against the walls ; or else to drive engines against the defences, battering-rams which struck them with heavy beams, mangonels which launched stones, sows whose arched wooden backs protected troops of workmen who tried to under- mine the wall, and moving towers consisting of a succession of stages or shelves, filled with soldiers, and with a bridge with iron hooks, capable of being launched from the highest story to the top of the battlements. The besieged could generally discon- cert the battering-ram by hanging beds or mattresses over the walls to receive the brunt of the blow, the sows could be crushed with heavy stones, the towers burnt by well-directed flaming missiles, the ladders overthrown, and in general the besiegers suffered a great deal more damage than they could inflict. Can- non had indeed just been brought into use at the battle of Crecy, but they only consisted of iron bars fastened together with hoops, and were as yet of little use, and thus there seemed to be little danger to a well guarded city from any enemy outside the walls. King Edward arrived before the place with all his victorious army early in August, his good knights and squires arrayed in glittering steel-armor, cov- ered with surcoats richly embroidered with their heraldic bearings ; his stout men-at-arms, each of whom was attended by three bold followers ; and his archers, with their cross-bows to shoot bolts, and long-bows to shoot arrows of a yard long, so that it used to be said, that each went into battle with three men's lives under his girdle, namely the three The Keys of Calais. 163 arrows he kept there ready to his hand. With the king was his son, Edward, Prince of Wales, ,vho had just won the golden spurs of knighthood so gallantly at Crecy, when only in his seventeeth year, and likewise the famous Hainault knight, Sir Walter Mauny, and all that was noblest and bravest in Eng- land. This whole glittering army, at their head the king's great royal standard bearing the golden lilies of France quartered with the lions of England, and each troop guided by the square banner, swal- low-tailed pennon or pointed pennoncel of their leader, came marching to the gates of Calais, above which floated the blue standard of Prance with its golden flowers, and with it the banner of the gov- ernor, Sir Jean de Vienne. A herald, in a rich, long robe, embroidered with the arms of England, rode up to the gate, a trumpet sounding before him, and called upon Sir Jean de Vienne to give up the place to Edward, King of England, and of France, as he claimed to be. Sir Jean made answer that he held the town for Philippe, King of France, and that he would defend it to the last ; the herald rode back again and the English began the siege of the city. At first they only encamped, and the people of Calais must have seen the whole plain covered with the white canvas tents, marshalled round the ensigns of the leaders, and here and there a more gorgeous one displaying the colors of the owner. Still there was no attack upon the walls. The warriors were to be seen walking about in the leathern suits they wore under their armor ; or if a party was to be seen with their coats of mail on, helmet on head, and lance in hand, it was not against Calais that they came ; they rode out into the country, and by and by might be seen driving back before them herds of cattle and flocks of sheep or pigs that they had seized and taken away from the poor peasants ; and at night the sky 164 A Book of Golden Deeds. would show red lights where farms and homesteads had been set on fire. After a time, in front of the tents, the English were to be seen hard at work with beams and boards setting up huts for themselves, and thatching them over with straw or broom. These wooden houses were all ranged in regular streets, and there was a market-place in the midst, whither every Saturday came farmers and butchers to sell corn and meat, and hay for the horses ; and the English merchants and Flemish weavers would come by sea and by land to bring cloth, bread, weap- ons, and everything that could be needed to be sold in this warlike market. The Governor, Sir Jean de Vienne, began to per- ceive that the king did not mean to waste his men by making vain attacks on the strong walls of Calais, but to shut up the entrance by land, and watch the coast by sea so as to prevent any pro- visions from being taken in, and so to starve him into surrendering. Sir Jean de Vienne, however, hoped that before he should be entirely reduced by famine, the king of France would be able to get to- gether another army and come to his relief, and at any rate he was determined to do his duty, and hold out for his master to the last. But as food was al- ready beginning to grow scarce, he was obliged to turn out such persons as could not fight and had no stores of their own, and so one Wednesday morning he caused all the poor to be brought together, men, women, and children, and sent them all out of the town, to the number of 1700. It was probably the truest mercy, for he had no food to give them, and they could only have starved miserably within the town, or have hindered him from saving it for his sovereign ; but to them it was dreadful to be driven out of house and home, straight down upon the en- emy, and they went along weeping and wailing, till the English soldiers met them and asked why they The Keys of Calais. 165 had come out. They answered that they had been put out because they had nothing to eat, and their sorrowful, famished looks gained pity for them. King Edward sent orders that not only should they go safely through his camp, but that they should all rest, and have the first hearty dinner that they had eaten for many a day, and he sent every one a small sum of money before they left the camp, so that many of them went on their way praying aloud for the enemy who had been so kind to them. A great deal happened whilst King Edward kept watch in his wooden town and the citizens of Calais guarded their walls. England was invaded by King David II. of Scotland, with a great army, and the good Queen Philippa, who was left to govern at 'home in the name of her little son Lionel, assem- bled all the forces that were left at home, and sent them to meet him. And one autumn day, a ship crossed the Straits of Dover, and a messenger brought King Edward letters from his queen to say that the Scots army had been entirely defeated at Nevil's Cross, near Durham, and that their king was a prisoner, but that he had been taken by a squire named John Copeland, who would not give him up to her. King Edward sent letters to John Copeland to come to him at Calais, and when the squire had made his journey, the king took him by the hand say- ing, " Ha ! welcome, my squire, who by his valor has captured our adversary the king of Scotland." Copeland, falling on one knee, replied, " If God, out of his great kindness, has given me the king of Scotland, no one ought to be jealous of it, for God can, when He pleases, send His grace to a poor squire as well as to a great lord. Sir, do not take it amiss if I did not surrender him to the orders of my lady the queen, for I hold my lands of you, and my oath is to you, not to her." 1 66 A Book of Golden Deeds. The king was not displeased with his squire's sturdiness, but made him a knight, gave him a pen- sion of ,500 a year, and desired him to surrender his prisoner to the queen, as his own representa- tive. This was accordingly done, and King David was lodged in the Tower of London. Soon after, three days before All Saints' Day, there was a large and gay fleet to be seen crossing from the white cliffs of Dover, and the king, his son, and his knights, rode down to the landing-place to welcome plump, fair-haired Queen Philippa, and all her train of ladies, who had come in great numbers to visit their husbands, fathers, or brothers in the wooden town. Then there was a great court, and numerous feasts and dances, and the knights and squires were constantly striving who could do the bravest deed of prowess to please the ladies. The king of France had placed numerous knights and men-at- arms in the neighboring towns and castles, and there were constant fights whenever the English went out foraging, and many bold deeds that were much admired were done. The great point was to keep provisions out of the town, and there was much fighting between the French who tried to bring in supplies, and the English who intercepted them. Very little was brought in by land, and Sir Jean de Vienne and his garrison would have been quite starved but for two sailors of Abbeville, named Marant and Mestriel, who knew the coast thor- oughly, and often, in the dark autumn evenings, would guide in a whole fleet of little boats, loaded with bread and meat for the starving men within the city. They were often chased by King Ed- ward's vessels, and were sometimes very nearly taken, but they always managed to escape, and thus they still enabled the garrison to hold out. So all the winter passed. Christmas was kept with brilliant feastings and high merriment by the The Keys of Calais. 167 king and his queen in their wooden palace outside, and with lean cheeks and scanty fare by the be- sieged within. Lent was strictly observed perforce by the besieged, and Easter. brought a bethrothal in the English camp ; a very unwilling one op the part of the bridegroom, the young Count of Flan- ders, who loved the French much better than the English, and had only been tormented into giving his consent by his unruly vassals because they de- pended on the wool of English sheep for their cloth works. So, though King Edward's daughter Isabel was a beautiful fair-haired girl of fifteen, the yourtg Count would scarcely look at her ; and in the last week before the marriage-day, while her robes and her jewels were being prepared, and her father and mother were arranging the presents they should make to all their court on the wedding-day, the bridegroom, when out hawking, gave his attendants the slip, and galloped off to Paris, where he was welcomed by King Philippe. This made Edward very wrathful, and more than ever determined to take Calais. About Whitsun- tide he completed a great wooden castle upon the sea-shore, and placed in it numerous warlike en- gines, with 40 men-at-arms and 200 archers, who kept such a watch upon the harbor that not even the two Abbeville sailors could enter it, without having their boats crushed and sunk by the great stones that the mangonels launched upon them. The townspeople began to feel what hunger really was, but their spirits were kept up by the hope that tliL-ir king was at last collecting an army for their rescue. And Philippe did collect all his forces, a great and noble army, and came one night to the hill of Sangate, just behind the English army, the knights' armor glancing and their pennons flying in the moonlight, so as to be a beautiful sight to the hun- 1 68 A Book of Golden Deeds. gry garrison who could see the white tents pitched upon the hillside. Still there were but two roads by which the French could reach their friends in the town, one along, the sea-coast, the other by a marshy road higher up the country, and there was but one bridge by which the river could be crossed. The English king's fleet could prevent any troops from passing along the coast road, the Earl of Derby guarded the bridge, and there was a great tower, strongly fortified, close upon Calais. There were a few skirmishes, but the French king, finding it difficult to force his way to relieve the town, sent a party of knights with a challenge to King Edward to come out of his camp and do battle upon a fair field. To this Edward made answer, that he had been nearly a year before Calais, and had spent large sums of money on the siege, and that he had nearly become master of the place, so that he had no in- tention of coming out only to gratify his adversary, who must try some other road if he could not make his way in by that before him. Three days were spent in parleys, and then, with- out the slightest effort to rescue the brave, patient men within the town, away went King Philippe of France, with all his men, and the garrison saw the host that had crowded the hill of Sangate melt away like a summer cloud. August had come again, and they had suffered privation for a whole year for the sake of the king who deserted them at their utmost need. They were in so grievous a state of hunger and distress that the hardiest could endure no more, for ever since Whitsuntide no fresh provisions had reached them. The governor, therefore, went to the battlements and made signs that he wished to hold a parley, and the king appointed Lord Basset and Sir Walter Mauny to meet him, and appoint the terms of surrender. The Keys of Calais. 169 The governor owned that the garrison was re- duced to the greatest extremity of distress, and requested that the king would be contented with obtaining the city and fortress, leaving the soldiers and inhabitants to depart in peace. But Sir Walter Mauny was forced to make an- swer that the king, his lord, was so much enraged at the delay and expense that Calais had cost him, that he would only consent to receive the whole on unconditional terms, leaving him free to slay, or to ransom, or make prisoners whomsoever he pleased, and he was known to consider that there was a heavy reckoning to pay, both for the trouble the siege had cost him and the damage the Calesians had previously done to his ships. The brave answer was : " These conditions are too hard for us. We are but a small number of knights and squires, who have loyally served our lord and master as you would have done, and have suffered much ill and disquiet, but we will endure far more than any man has done in such a post, be- fore we consent that the smallest boy in the town shall fare worse than ourselves. I therefore entreat you, for pity's sake, to return to the king and beg him to have compassion, for I have such an opinion of his gallantry that I think he will alter his mind." The king's mind seemed, however, sternly made up ; and all that Sir Walter Mauny and the barons of the council could obtain from him was that he would pardon the garrison and townsmen on con- dition that six of the chief citizens should present themselves to him, coming forth with bare feet and heads, with halters round their necks, carrying the keys of the town, and becoming absolutely his own to punish for their obstinacy as he should think fit On hearing this reply, Sir Jean de Vienne begged Sir Walter Mauny to wait till he could consult tfo A Book of Golden Deeds. the citizens, and, repairing fo the market-place, he caused a great bell to be rung, at sound of which all the inhabitants came together in the town-hall. When he told them of these hard terms he could not refrain from weeping bitterly, and wailing and lamentation arose all round him. Should all starve together, or sacrifice their best and most honored after all suffering in common so long ? Then a voice was heard : it was that of the rich- est burgher in the town, Eustache de St. Pierre. "Messieurs, high and low," he said, "it would be a sad pity to suffer so many people to die through hunger, if it could be prevented ; and to hinder it would be meritorious in the eyes of our Saviour. I have such faith and trust in finding grace before God, if I die to save my townsmen, that I name my- self as first of the six." As the burgher ceased, his fellow-townsmen wept aloud, and many, amid tears and groans, threw themselves at his feet in a transport of grief and grat- itude. Another citizen, very rich and respected, rose up and said, " I will be second to my comrade, Eustache." His name was Jean Daire. After him Jacques Wissant, another very rich man, offered himself as companion to these, who were both his cousins ; and his brother Pierre would not be left behind : and two more, unnamed, made up this gal- lant band of men willing to offer their lives for the rescue of their fellow-townsmen. Sir Jean de Vienne mounted a little horse for he had been wounded, and was still lame and came to the gate with them, followed by all the peo- ple of the town, weeping and wailing, yet, for their own sakes and their children's, not daring to pre- vent the sacrifice. The gates were opened, the gov- ernor and the six passed out, and the gates were again shut behind them. Sir Jean then rode up to Sir Walter Mauny, and told him how these burghers The f^eys of Calais. 171 had voluntarily offered the.nselves, begging him to do all in his power to save them ; and Sir Walter promised with his whole heart to plead their cause. De Vienne then went back into the town, full of heaviness and anxiety ; and the six citizens were led by Sir Walter to the presence of the king, in his full court. They all knelt down, and the fore- most said : " Most gillant Kin.;-, you see before you six burghers of Calais, who h ive all been capital merchants, and who bring you the keys of the castle and town. We yield ourselves to your absolute will and pleasure, in order to save the remainder of the inhabitants of Calais, who have suffered much dis- tress and misery. Condescend, therefore, out of your nobleness of mind to have pity on us." Strong emotion was excite I am:>n^ all the barons and knights who stood round, as they saw the re- signed countenances, pale and thin with patiently- endured hunger, of these venerable men, offering themselves in the cause of their fellow- townsmen. Many tears of pity were shed ; but the king still showed himself implacable, and commanded that they should be led away, an I their heads stricken off. Sir Walter M.umy interceded for them with all his might, even telling t'.ie king that such an execution would tarnish his honor, and that repri- sals would be made on his own garrisons ; and all the nobles joined in entreating pardon for the citi- zens, but still without effect ; and the headsman had been actually sent for, when Queen Philippa, her eyes streaming with tears, threw herself on her knees amongst the captives, and said, "Ah, gentle sir, since I have crossed the sea, with much danger, to see you, I have never asked you one favor ; now I beg as a boon to myself, for the sake of the Son of the Blessed Mary, and for your love to me, that you will be merciful to these men ! " For some time the king looked at her in silence ; 172 A Book of Golden Deeds. then he exclaimed : " Dame, dame, would that you had been anywhere than here ! You have fcr^ treated in such a manner that I cannot refuse ycu ; I therefore give these men to you, to do as you please with." Joyfully did Queen Philippa conduct the six citi- zens to her own apartments, where she made them welcome, sent them new garments, entertained them with a plentiful dinner, and dismissed them each with a gift of six nobles. After this, Sir Walter Mauny entered the city, and took possession of it ; retaining Sir Jean de Vienne and the other knights and squires till they should ransom themselves, and sending out the old French inhabitants ; for the king was resolved to people the city entirely with English, in order to gain a thoroughly strong hold of this first step in France. The king and queen took up their abode in the city ; and the houses of Jean Daire were, it ap- pears, granted to the queen, perhaps, because she considered the man himself as her charge, and wished to secure them for him, and her little daughter Margaret was, shortly after, born in one of his houses. Eustache de St. Pierre was taken into high favor, and was placed in charge of the new citizens whom the king placed in the city. Indeed, as this story is told by no chronicler but Froissart, some have doubted of it, and thought the violent resentment thus imputed to Edward III. in- consistent with his general character ; but it is evi- dent that the men of Calais had given him strong provocation by attacks on his shipping, piracies Which are not easily forgiven, and that he consid- ered that he had a right to make an example of them. It is not unlikely that he might, after all, have intended to forgive them, and have given the queen the grace of obtaining their pardon, so as to excuse himself from the fulfilment of some over- The Keys of Calais. 173 hasty threat. But, however this may have been, nothing can lessen the glory of the six grave and patient men who went forth, by their own free will, to meet what might be a cruel and disgraceful death, in order to obtain the safety of their fellow- townsmen. THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH. 1397- TV T OTHING in history has been more remarkable 1\1 than the union of the cantons and cities of the little republic of Switzerland. Of differing races, languages, and, latterly, even religions, unlike in habits, tastes, opinions, and costumes, they have, however, been held together, as it were, by pressure from without, and one spirit of patriotism has kept the little mountain republic complete for five hun- dred years. Originally the lands were fiefs of the Holy Roman Empire, the city municipalities owning the Emperor for their lord ; and the great family of Hapsburg, in whom the Empire became at length hereditary, was in reality Swiss, the county that gave them title lying in the canton of Aa^gau. Rodolf of Hapsburg was elected leader of the burghers of Zurich, long before he was chosen to the Empire ; and he continued a Swiss in heart, retaining his mountaineer's open simplicity and honesty to the end of his life. Priv- ileges were granted by him to the cities and the nobles, and the country was loyal and prosperous in his reign. His son Albert, the same who was slain by his nephew Johann, as before mentioned, permitted those tyrannies of his bailiffs which goaded the Swiss to their celebrated revolt, and commenced the The Battle of Sempach. 175 long series of wars with the House of Hapsburg, or, as it was now termed, of Austria, which finally established their independence. On the one side, the Dukes of Austria and their ponderous German chivalry, wanted to reduce the cantons and cities to vassalage, not to the Imperial Crown, a distant and scarcely felt obligation, but to the Duchy of Austria ; on the other, the hardy mountain peasants and stout burghers well knew their true position, and were aware that to admit the Austrian usurpation would expose their young men to be drawn upon for the Duke's wars, cause their property to be subject to perpetual rapacious exac- tions, and fill their hills with castles for ducal bailiffs, who would be little better than licensed robbers. No wonder, then, that the generation of William Tell and Arnold Melchthal bequeathed a resolute purpose of resistance to their descendants. It was in 1397, ninety years since the first asser- tion of Swiss independence, when Leopold the Hand- some, Duke of Austria, a bold but misproud and vi- olent prince, involved himself in one of the constant quarrels with the Swiss that were always arising on account of the insulting exactions of toil and tribute in the Austrian border cities. A sharp war broke out. and the Swiss city of Lucerne took the oppor- tunity of destroying the Austrian castle of Rothem- burg, where the tolls had been particularly vexatious, and of admitting to their league the cities of Sem- pach and Richensee. Leopold and all the neighboring nobles united their forces. Hatred and contempt of the Swiss, as low-born and presumptuous, spurred them on ; and twenty messengers reached the Duke in one day. with promises of support, in his march against Sempach and Lucerne. He had sent a large force in the di- rection of Zurich with Johann Bonstetten, and ad- vanced himself with 4,000 horse and 1,400 foot upon 176 A Book of Golden Deeds. Sempach. Zurich undertook its own defence, and the Forest Cantons sent their brave peasants to the support of Lucerne and Sempach, but only to the number of 1,300, who, on the gth of July, took post in the woods around the little lake of Sempach. Meanwhile, Leopold's troops rode round the walls of the little city, insulting the inhabitants ; one hold- ing up a halter, which he said was for the chief mag- istrate ; and another, pointing to the reckless waste that his comrades were perpetrating on the fields, shouted, " Send a breakfast to the reapers." The burgomaster pointed to the woods where his allies lay hid, and answered, " My masters of Lucerne and their friends will bring it." The story of that day was told by one of the burghers who fought in the ranks of Lucerne, a shoemaker, named Albert Tchudi, who was both a brave warrior and a master-singer ; and as his bal- lad was translated by another master-singer, Sir Walter Scott, and is the spirited record of an eye- witness, we will quote from him some of his de- scriptions of the battle and its golden deed. The Duke's wiser friends proposed to wait till he could be joined by Bonstetten and the troops who had gone towards Zurich, and the Baron von Hasen- berg (i. e. hare-rock) strongly urged this prudent counsel ; but " ' O Hare-Castle, thou heart of hare ! ' Fierce Oxenstiern he cried, ' Shalt see then how the game will fare,' The taunted knight replied. " " This very noon," said the younger knight to the Duke, " we will deliver up to you this handful of villains. " And thus they to each other said, ' Yon handful down to hew Will be no boastful tale to tell, The peasants are so few.' " The Battle of Sempach. 1 77 Characteristically enough, the doughty cobbler describes how the first execution that took place was the lopping off the long-peaked toes of the boots that the gentlemen wore chained to their knees, and which would have impeded them on foot ; since it had been decided that the horses were too much tired to be serviceable in the action. " There was lacing then of helmets bright, And closing ranks amain, The peaks they hewed from their boot points Might wellnigh load a wain." They were drawn up in a solid compact body, presenting an unbroken line of spears, projecting beyond the wall of gay shields and polished impen- etrable armor. The Swiss were not only few in number, but ar- mor was scarce among them ; some had only boards fastened on their arms by way of shields, some had halberts, which had been used by their fathers at the battle of Morgarten, others two-handed swords and battle-axes. They drew themselves up in form of a wedge, and " The gallant Swiss confederates then They prayed to God aloud, And He displayed His rainbow fair, Against a swarthy cloud." Then they rushed upon the serried spears, but in vain. " The game was nothing sweet." The banner of Lucerne was in the utmost dan- ger, the Landamman was slain, and sixty of his men, and not an Austrian had been wounded. The flanks of the Austrian host began to advance so as to enclose the small peasant force, and involve it in ir- remediable destruction. A moment of dismay and stillness ensued. Then Arnold von Winkelried of 178 A Book of Golden Deeds. Unterwalden, with an eagle glance saw the only means of saving his country, and, with the decision of a man who dares by dying to do all things, shout- ed aloud : " I will open a passage." " ' I have a virtuous wife at home, A wife and infant son : I leave them to my country's care, The field shall yet be won ! ' He rushed against the Austrian band In desperate career, And with his body, breast, and hand, Bore down each hostile spear ; Four lances splintered on his crest, Six shivered in his side, Still on the serried files he pressed. He broke their ranks and died ! " The very weight of the desperate charge of this self-devoted man opened a breach in the line of spears. In rushed the Swiss wedge, and the weight of the nobles' armor and length of their spears was only encumbering. They began to fall before the Swiss blows, and Duke Leopold was urged to fly. " I had rather die honorably than live with dishon- or," he said. He saw his standard-bearer struck to the ground, and seizing his banner from his hand, waved it over his head, and threw himself amog the thickest of the foe. His corpse was found am|d a heap of slain, and no less than 2,000 of his com- panions perished with him, of whom a third are said to have been counts, barons, and knights. " Then lost was banner, spear, and shield At Sempach in the flight ; The cloister vaults at Konigsfeldt Hold many an Austrian knight." The Swiss only lost 200 ; but, as they were spent with the excessive heat of the July sun, they did The Battle of Sanpach. \ 79 not pursue their enemies. They gave thanks on the battle-field to the God of victories, and the next day buried the dead, carrying Duke Leopold and twenty-seven of his most illustrious companions to the Abbey of Konigsfeldt. where they buried him in the old tomb of his forefathers, the lords of Aargau, who had been laid there in the good old times, be- fore the house of Hapsburg had grown arrogant with success. As to the master-singer, he tells us of himself that " A merry man was he, I wot, The night he made the lay, Returning from the bloody spot Where God had judged the day." On every gth of July subsequently, the people of the country have been wont to assemble on the bat- tle-field, around four stone crosses which mark the spot. A priest from a pulpit in the open air gives a thanksgiving sermon on the victory that insured the freedom of Switzerland, and another reads the nar- rative of the battle, and the roll of the brave 200, who, after YVinkelried's example, gave their lives in the cause. All this is in the face of the mountains and the lake now lying in summer stillness, and the harvest fields whose crops are secure from maraud- ers, and the congregation then proceed to the small chapel, the walls of which are painted with the deed of Arnold von Winkelried, and the other distin- guished achievements of the confederates, and mass- es are sung for the souls of those who were slain. No wonder that men thus nurtured in the memory of such actions were, even to the fall of the French monarchy, among the most trustworthy soldiery of Europe. \ THE CONSTANT PRINCE. 1433- '"pHE illustrious days of Portugal were during the 1 century and a half of the dynasty termed the House of Aviz, because its founder, Dom Joao I. had been Grand Master of the military order of Aviz. His right to the throne was questionable, or more truly null, and he had only obtained the crown from the desire of the nation to be independent of Cas- tille, and by the assistance of our own John of Gaunt, whose daughter, Philippa of Lancaster, became his wife, thus connecting the glories of his line with our own house of Plantagenet. Philippa was greatly beloved in Portugal, and was a most noble-minded woman, who infused her own spirit into her children. She had five sons, and when they all had attained an age to be admitted to the order of knighthood, their father proposed to give a grand tournament in which they might evince their prowess. This, however, seemed but play to the high-spirited youths, who h