CHAPTER III.
THE DEATH OF BRUNHILD.
Three days had elapsed since Brunhild fell into the power of ClotaireII. The sun had crossed the zenith. A man with a long white beard, cladin a hooded brown robe, and mounted upon a mule was following the road,upon which, escorted by the armed men of her mortal foe, and leadingbehind her a mob that rent the air with execrations, Brunhild hadshortly before ridden to the village of Ryonne. The venerable old manwas Loysik. He had escaped death by reason of the Queen's precipitatedeparture from the castle. One of the young brothers of the communityaccompanied the old monk on foot, guiding his mule by the bridle. Fromthe opposite direction, a warrior, armed cap-a-pie, was climbing onhorseback the rough road that Loysik was at the same time slowlydescending with his mule. When the Frank had come within a few paces ofthe old man, the latter opened up a conversation with him:
"Are you of King Clotaire's suite?"
"Yes, holy man."
"Is he still at the village of Ryonne?"
"Yes; he will be there till this evening.--I am to ride ahead andprepare his lodgings on the route."
"Is Duke Roccon among the seigneurs who accompany the King?"
"Yes, monk; Duke Roccon is with the King."
"Is it true, as I hear, that Queen Brunhild has been taken prisoner andcarried to King Clotaire, who has also captured her grandchildren?"
"That is all old news. Where do you come from that you do not know whathas happened?"
"I come from Chalon.--What did the King do with his prisoner and hergrandchildren?"
"The steep ascent has taken the wind out of my horse and he needs alittle rest. So I shall tell you what has happened--all the morewillingly, seeing that it is a good augury to meet a priest, especiallya monk, at the start of a journey."
"Do let me know, I beg you; what has been done with Brunhild and hergrandchildren?"
"There were only three of the children captured on the banks of theSaone. The fourth, Childebert, could be found nowhere.--Was he killed inthe melee?--Did he escape?--No one can tell.--"
"And the other three?"
"The eldest and the second one were killed."
"In the battle?"
"No--no.--They were killed in the village--yonder. The King had themkilled under his own eyes, in order to be certain of their death; hewanted to obviate having them turn up some day, and demand their kingdomback from him. But it is said that the King granted his life to thethird.--I think he was wrong in that.--But what ails you, holy father;you seem to shiver. To be sure, the morning is rather chilly."
"And what became of Queen Brunhild?"
"She arrived at the village with a magnificent escort! A veritabletriumphal march! Dung for incense, and hootings for acclamation!"
"I suppose the King ordered her to be put to death immediately upon herarrival?"
"No; she is still alive."
"Did Clotaire have mercy upon her?"
"Clotaire--have mercy upon Brunhild!--Holy man, you must come from faraway to talk as you do! Brunhild was taken three days ago to thatvillage that you see yonder; she was taken to the house where hergrandchildren were killed. Two expert executioners and four assistants,equipped with all manner of instruments, were locked up with the oldQueen; that was three days ago, and she is not yet dead. I must add thatshe was not tortured at night; the nights were left to her to recoverstrength. Moreover, seeing that she undertook to starve herself, foodwas forced down her throat--spiced wines and flour soaked in milk. Thathas kept her sufficiently alive.--But what makes you shiver so? It isnot so chilly!"
"Yes; the morning is chilly.--And did Clotaire witness the tortures thatwere inflicted upon the Queen during those three days?"
"The door of the house was locked and guarded by sentinels. But there isa little window through which one can look inside. Through that opening,the King, the dukes, the leudes, the Bishop of Troyes and a few otherpreferred personages went from time to time to contemplate the victim inher agony. Being a connoisseur, Clotaire never took a look inside whenBrunhild was screaming; at times the woman screamed loud enough to beheard clean across the village; he never went to see her at such times;but the moment she began to moan, he walked to the window and peeped in;it is said the sufferings of victims in the torture are intenser whenthey moan than when they scream out aloud. It was a protracted holidayfor the whole village. Like the generous King that he is, Clotaireallowed a large number of people, who followed Brunhild to the village,to remain to the end of the tortures, and had provisions distributedamong them. Oh, holy man, you should have heard how they kept time withtheir hootings to the screams of the Queen.--But I see my horse hasregained his wind--adieu, holy man. If you wish to witness a spectaclethat you never saw and never will see again you would better hurry. Theysay there are yet to be some extraordinary incidents to wind up thetorture. The King has sent for one of the camels that carry hisbaggage. What he purposes to do with the camel is still a secret. Adieu,give me your blessing."
"I wish you a happy journey."
"Thank you, holy man; but you had better hurry, because as I was leavingthe village they went for the camel and took him out of his stable."
Pricking his horse with his spurs, the rider rode off at a brisk pace.Shortly afterwards, Loysik arrived at the entrance of the village ofRyonne. The aged monk alighted from his mule and asked the young brotherto wait for him. A leude, from whom Loysik inquired after Duke Roccon,took him to the tent of the Frankish seigneur, contiguous to that of theKing. Almost immediately afterwards the monk was taken to the duke, whosaid to him in a tone of respectful deference:
"You here, my good father in Christ?"
"I come with a just petition to you."
"If it is at all in my power, the matter is granted."
"Are you a friend of King Clotaire? Have you any influence with him?"
"If you have any favor to prefer to him, you could hardly arrive at abetter time."
"I come for no favors from the King--I come for justice. Here is acharter given by his grandfather Clotaire I. As a matter of law, itrequires no confirmation, seeing that the concession is absolute. Butthe Bishop of Chalon is giving us trouble. He is laying claims upon thegoods of the monastery, upon those of the inhabitants of the Valley,and, as a consequence, upon their freedom, notwithstanding both theirgoods and their freedom are guaranteed by this charter.--Would you bewilling to request Clotaire, who is now the King of Burgundy, to attachhis seal to the charter issued by his grandfather, in order to insureits enforcement?"
"Is that all you wish to ask of the King?--The King honors the memory ofhis glorious grandfather too highly to fail to confirm a charter issuedby that great Prince. Clotaire must now be in his tent. Wait for mehere, my father in Christ. I shall be back soon."
During the short absence of the Frankish seigneur, Loysik could hear theuproar of the impatient crowd and warriors calling aloud for Brunhild.Duke Roccon returned quickly with the old charter of Clotaire I, towhich Clotaire II had attached his seal under the following freshlywritten words:
"We will it, and we so order all our leudes, dukes, counts and bishops, that the above charter, signed by our glorious grandfather Clotaire, be upheld in force and respected in all its provisions in the present and in the future, and we do so in the belief that we thereby do honor to our glorious ancestor. And those who are to succeed me will uphold this donation inviolate, if they wish to share the life everlasting, and if they wish to be saved from the everlasting flames. Whoever in any manner does violence to this donation, may the gateman of heaven diminish his share of heaven; whoever may add to the donation, may the gateman of heaven add something unto him."
The aged monk inquired from the duke who it was that wrote the lastwords to the charter, and was not a little surprised to hear that it wasthe Bishop of Troyes.
"You must, then, have said nothing to the King concerning thepretensions of the Bishop of Chalon--"
"I did not consider t
hat necessary. I said to Clotaire: 'I request youto confirm this charter, which your grandfather granted to a holy man ofGod.' 'I can refuse nothing to my loyal servitors,' he answered, and hecharged the bishop to write what was proper. That being done, the Kingattached his royal seal under the writing."
"Roccon," said the venerable monk, "I thank you--adieu--"
But recollecting himself, Loysik added:
"You told me that the moment was favorable to obtain favors from theKing--promise me that you will ask him to enfranchise a few slaves ofthe royal fisc, and to send them to me to the monastery of the Valley ofCharolles."
"Ah, my father in Christ! I knew full well that our conversation wouldnot be done without your making some demand of enfranchisement."
"Roccon, you have a wife and children--the accidents of war arechangeable. Brunhild is now vanquished and a prisoner; but, if thatimplacable Queen, who has emerged so often victorious from the field ofbattle, had not been betrayed by her own army and her auxiliaries--hadshe, on the contrary, vanquished Clotaire, what would your lot havebeen, what the lot of all the seigneurs of Burgundy, who took the sideof the King? What would have become of your wife, of your daughters?"
"Brunhild would have ordered my head cut off; she would have deliveredmy wife and daughters to the savage tribes of the other side of theRhine as slaves!--Malediction! My two daughters Bathilde andHermangarde, slaves!--The perspiration gathers on my temples at the barethought of such a thing--let us not speak of it!"
"On the contrary, do let us speak of it! Who knows but that among thoseunknown slaves, whose freedom I am asking, there may be some withdaughters whom they love as much as you love yours.--Judge of the joythat their deliverance would give them by the joy that you and yourchildren would feel if, having become slaves, you were to be set free.Roccon, it is in your power to afford such ineffable joy to somecaptives.--Keep your dear daughters in mind."
"Very well my dear father in Christ, I promise you ten slaves. Clotairewill not refuse them to me as my share of the booty of this war."
"Seigneur duke," said a servant who hurried into the tent, "thepromenade of the camel is about to begin."
"Oh! Oh! It is to be one of the best spectacles of the feast.--Come, myfather in Christ!"
"Oh!" cried the aged man horrified. "I do not wish to stay an instantlonger in this horrible place.--Adieu, Roccon!"
"Adieu, good father, you will pray to God for me, in order that I mayhave a good part of paradise."
"Man finds paradise in his own heart when he acts justly: the priestswho promise heaven are knaves. I shall pray to God that He may inspireyou to perform charitable deeds.--Adieu."
Loysik left the duke's tent expecting to be able to leave the villageinstantly. His hope was not verified. As he walked away he found himselfin a narrow street that divided two rows of huts and was cut at rightangles by a wide highroad. Loysik was walking thither in order to rejointhe young brother who guarded his mule, when suddenly the uproar ofvoices, that had before smitten his ears several times, broke out louderand nearer. Immediately thereupon, a crowd of the people who hadfollowed Brunhild to the village in order to enjoy the sight of herdeath, broke forth like an eruption out of the highway, poured over thenarrow street, and despite Loysik's efforts to disengage himself,carried him away like a straw by the torrent. The flood of peopleconsisted of men, women and children; they were all in rags; they wereslaves and were of the Gallic race. All cried at the top of theirvoices:
"Brunhild is coming out of the camp! She will pass this way!"
Loysik made no further efforts to contend against the crowd; he foundhimself pushed forward until further progress was barred at the sort ofsquare in the center of which rose the tent of Clotaire II. A strongcordon of warriors drawn around the place, prevented the mob fromentering it. As he stood there, in the very front ranks of the surgingcrowd Loysik witnessed the following spectacle:
Before him extended a rather wide avenue, now completely deserted ofpeople; to his left the entrance to the royal tent; before the tent,Clotaire II, surrounded by the seigneurs of his suite, among whom wasthe Bishop of Troyes. Two slaves on foot brought and kept before theKing a spirited stallion, which they were hardly able to curb by meansof two thongs attached to his bit; the animal reared violently althoughhis hind legs were hoppled. With blood-shot eyes and dilated nostrils,the powerful beast made such frantic efforts to tear himself from thetwo slaves that his deep black coat streamed with sweat on his flanksand chest. The animal carried no saddle; his long mane floated to thebreeze, or fell down over and almost completely covered his savage head.Despite all, the slaves succeeded in leading the stallion to Clotaire'stent. The King made a sign. Immediately, at the imminent risk of beingtrampled to pieces, the unhappy slaves crawled down upon their hands andknees, and slipped a rope with a running knot over each of the animal'shind legs; other slaves thereupon kept the horse in sufficient controlto allow the removal of his hopples. During this perilous process, thestallion became so furious that he reared and struck one of the slaveson the head with his front hoofs; the luckless fellow fell bleedingunder the feet of the animal that then stooped, bit him ferociously, andcrushed his bones with the trample of his hoofs. The corpse was removed,and two other slaves received orders to join those who, in order tocontrol the stallion, clung with all their might to the thongs from hisbit. Again cries were heard, first from a distance, but drawing nearerand nearer. The highroad, deserted but a moment before and running intothe square in front of Loysik, was suddenly filled with a dense mass offoot soldiers, and presently a camel that towered by the full height ofits body over the armed multitude, hove in sight of the aged monk. Thetroop of Frankish soldiers rent the air with their clamor:
"Brunhild! Brunhild! Triumph to Brunhild--Queen, look down upon yourgood people of Burgundy who are at your feet!"
Although in a dying state, although broken down by the tortures that shehad undergone during the last three days, still the old Queen, recalledfrom her stupor by the loudness of the yells that broke out all aroundher, found strength enough to raise herself for a last time upon theback of the camel, astride of whose back she had been placed and firmlybound. She was only a few steps from where Loysik stood. What thevenerable monk then saw--Oh, what he saw is nameless, like the crimes ofBrunhild herself. Her long, white, tangled, blood-clotted hair was theonly--the only cover to the nakedness of the old Queen. The woman'slegs; her thighs, her shoulders, her bosom, in short her every limb wasno longer of human shape; it was but a heap of palpitating wounds andswollen, blackened, bleeding burns; two of her toe-nails, that had beenpulled out, still hung dangling from reddening pellicules at her greattoes; in the other toes of her feet and in her fingers, long ironneedles were seen inserted between the nail and the flesh. Only her facehad been spared. Despite its cadaverous paleness; despite the traces ofthe unheard-of superhuman sufferings that it registered, left there bythe tortures inflicted during the three consecutive days;--despite all,her face still bore the stamp of pride; a frightful smile curled theQueen's purplish lips; a flash of savage haughtiness illumined from timeto time her breaking eyes. And, oh, fatality, those eyes alightedaccidentally upon Loysik at the moment that Brunhild passed before him.At the sight of the monk, whose robe, long white beard and tall staturehad attracted the dying Queen's eyes, her body seemed thrilled by asudden emotion; she straightened in her seat; and gathering the littlestrength that still remained to her, she cried in a voice of despair,that sounded almost repentant:
"Monk, your speech was soothe--there is a justice in heaven! At thishour I am thinking, I am thinking--I am thinking of the death ofVictoria."
The furious hootings of the crowd drowned Brunhild's voice; her lasteffort, put forth in raising herself and speaking to Loysik exhaustedher failing strength. She fell over backward, and her inert body joltedup and down over the camel's crupper. Loysik had long struggled againstthe horror of the shocking spectacle. Hardly had Brunhild's voice ceasedto be heard than he felt his head swim and hi
s knees sink under him. Butfor two poor women, who, struck with compassion for his old age,supported him, the monk would have fallen to the ground and beentrampled to death.
Loysik remained for a long time deprived of consciousness. When herecovered, night had come. He found himself lying in a hut upon a bed ofstraw. Beside him sat the young brother, who had succeeded in findinghim. The two poor slave women had transported Loysik to their miserablehut. The first words pronounced by the monk, whose mind still laboredunder the effect of the horrible scene that he had witnessed, was thename of Brunhild.
"Good father," said one of the women, "the hated Queen was taken downfrom the camel; she was then only a corpse; she was fastened with ropesby the hands to the tail of a fiery horse, and the animal was then letloose; but that part of the execution did not last long; at the veryfirst bound given by the horse it shattered Brunhild's head; her skullbroke like the shell of a nut, and her brains were scattered in alldirections."
Suddenly the young monk laborer said to Loysik, pointing in thedirection of the glimmer that must have been produced by the reflectionof a great but distant fire:
"Do you hear those distant yells? Do you see that light?"
"That light, my son, is the light cast by the pyre that Clotaire IIordered raised," said one of the two old women; "those yells are theyells of the people dancing around the fire."
"What pyre?" asked Loysik with a shudder. "Of what pyre are youspeaking?"
"After the wild horse broke the head of Brunhild, the people who came tothe village in order to see her die besought the King to have theaccursed remains of the old she-wolf placed upon a pyre; the King gavehis consent before his departure; he departed soon afterwards. The pyrewas raised yonder at the square, and the light reaches us."
The evening breeze carried to Loysik's ears the cries of frantic joy,uttered by the crowd, wild with the intoxication of vengeance:
"Burn, burn, old bones of Brunhild, the accursed! Burn, burn, oldaccursed bones!"
As Loysik caught these words he cried:
"Oh, formidable contrast, formidable like the voice of history! The pyreof Brunhild--the pyre of Victoria!"
EPILOGUE
Ronan, old little Odille, the Master of the Hounds and the Bishopesswere promenading along the bank of the river Charolles, near the lodgewhere the monks of the monastery and the inhabitants of the Valley tooktheir turns as sentinels near the landing-place of the punt. Since therevelation of the pretensions of the Bishop of Chalon, besides theregular sentinel, ten brothers and twenty colonists, all well armed,took turns in guarding the crossing, and encamped in an improvisedblock-house.
"Old Master of the Hounds," Ronan observed sadly, "this is the seventhday since Loysik left; he is not yet back; I can not overcome myuneasiness."
"Why, there he is!" cried Odille in great glee. "Do you not see hiswhite mule? He is riding down the slope of the hill in great hurry; heis coming down to the river bank; send the punt across for him."
Ronan, the Master of the Hounds, Odille, the Bishopess, all theirchildren, together with several monks and colonists threw themselvesinto the punt. The river was quickly crossed, the landing made, and allran to meet the monk. Old Odille and the venerable Bishopess found againon that day their young limbs of girlhood. Loysik was given hardly timeto alight from his mule. It was a pell-mell of arms, hands, heads aroundthe respected old man. Whom was he to embrace first? He knew not whosecaresses to respond to. After a while the tempest of tendernesssubsided. Calm was restored. Joy no longer choked their throats.Conversation started on the way to the monastery, and Loysik narrated tohis friends what he learned concerning the tortures of Queen Brunhild.He informed them of the confirmation of the charter of Clotaire I byClotaire II.
"And lastly," Loysik proceeded to say, "upon my return from Ryonne, Icalled upon the Bishop of Chalon. The confirmation of the charter byClotaire II was a good deal, but that was not all that was needed. Therewere still some formalities to fulfill."
"Brother Loysik," put in Ronan, "we heard from the Bishop of Chalon. Itcame about this way: After the departure of Brunhild's men-at-arms, whomwe released upon receipt of the orders you sent us when you escapeddeath at the monster's hands, what should the archdeacon do but have theaudacity to return at the head of about fifty of his tonsuredfraternity, together with as many poor slaves of the bishopric. Theslaves and the tonsured friars were armed at haphazard, and bore beforetheir clerical troop a cross in lieu of a banner; they approachedbravely to declare war to us, if we refused to obey the orders of thebishop, and to allow him to place our goods into his episcopal pockets."
"Ah! What a fine day we had of it!" said the Master of the Hounds. "Theclerical troop brought along a boat upon their wagons in order to crossthe river. That day I was on guard with about thirty of our men. We sawthe boat launched, and the archdeacon step in with two clerks foroarsmen. Three men gave us little concern. We allowed them to land. Thearchdeacon stepped ashore with casque and cuirass over his priestlyrobes, a long sword in his hand.
"'If you will not submit to the orders of the Bishop of Chalon,' thebasilica captain cried out to us in a triumphant voice, 'my troop willenter the Valley and reduce it to obedience by force of arms. I grantyou a quarter of an hour to surrender yourselves.'
"It does not take me quite so long to make up my mind what to do. So Ianswered him back on the spot: 'We have already once set you free withyour skin whole, notwithstanding your insolent language; this time,however, you will receive a rougher lesson, my basilica captain!'"
"Oh, old Vagre, old Vagre!" said Loysik shaking his head. "I disapproveof such violent language. Had I been here, you would not have spoiledyour cause in that manner."
"Good father," answered the Master of the Hounds, smiling, as well asRonan, "the only thing spoiled was the archdeacon's hide. As soon saidas done. Our good man was seized, his clerical robe raised, and thestraps of our belts administered a thorough discipline to the basilicacaptain, all casqued and cuirassed as he was. After that he wasdeposited into our punt; my men and I stepped in, crossed the river andmet the clerical army drawn up in line of battle on the opposite bank.Five or six of the tonsured gentry had armed themselves with bows andarrows. They shot a volley at us; the aim was taken badly enough; butaccident willed it that they killed one of our men and wounded two. Wewere thirty at the most, but entered upon close quarters with the fivescore churchmen and poor slaves that they dragged after them. They triedto withstand us, but we invoked our own special trinity--lance, swordand axe. It was not long before the redoubtable warriors of the Bishopof Chalon displayed to us the seams of the backs of their breeches infull view. The glorious episcopal captain leaped upon his mule and gavethe signal to retreat by himself fleeing at full tilt; his tonsuredbrethren followed his example--we buried about a dozen dead, and pickedup a few wounded ones, who were taken care of at the monastery andafterwards set at large. We have not since heard again from the braveepiscopal army."
"I knew all that, my friends, and I approve your action, except thediscipline that you administered to the archdeacon, that I stronglycondemn," said Loysik; "I had much trouble in calming the anger of theBishop of Chalon upon that particular head. For the rest, you deportedyourselves as the occasion demanded. Aye, to defend one's rights andrepel force with force is but just; moreover, a resistance carried tothe point of heroism is often politic. Brunhild recoiled before the ideaof driving you to desperate means. Well, as I was saying to you, Icalled upon the bishop on my return from Clotaire's camp. I found himfurious by reason of your resistance, and the insult to the archdeacon.I told him that I condemned the insult, but that I approved thelegitimate resistance of my brothers of the Valley. 'What is the good ofyour resorting to violent means?' I said to him. 'You, a churchman, sentarmed men against monks and colonists, who only ask to be allowed tolive in quiet and by the sweat of their brow, as is their right. Yourmen were beaten back, and will be beaten back again if they return tothe charge. I pray you to renounce all claims against th
e Valley; we, onour part, will recognize your right to spiritual jurisdiction, butnothing more.' The bishop answered me furiously: 'I shall then take awayfrom you the priests that I send you to say mass at the monastery! Ishall excommunicate the Valley!' 'If that be your pleasure, bishop, why,then we shall be excommunicated; for all that you will see the grass onour meadows continue to grow green, our woods to set forth freshbranches, our fields to produce wheat, our vines to yield their juice asplentifully as ever, our cattle their milk, our bees their honey;children will continue to be born robust and ruddy as hitherto; yourexcommunication can in no manner change things. The only thing thatcould happen is that our neighbors will say: "Oh, behold anexcommunicated Valley continuing to be fertile; excommunicated peopleremaining in a happy frame of mind and thriving; why, excommunicationmust be a farce!" So, then, bishop, the ultimate result would be that apunishment, that so many poor people imagine to be frightful, will bethought little or nothing of. Take my advice; give up all thought ofviolence and of coercion; respect our goods, our rights, our freedom,and we, in turn, will respect your spiritual jurisdiction--if not, not;the misfortunes that your iniquity may lead to will then fall upon yourown head!' To make a long story short, my friends, after protracteddebates, I obtained a new charter from the bishop. I shall read it toyou. Listen carefully. It bears, perhaps, the germ of theenfranchisement of Gaul."
And Loysik read as follows:
"To the holy and venerable brother in Christ--Loysik, superior of the monastery of Charolles, built in the valley of that name, conceded to the said brother Loysik in perpetual donation, by virtue of a charter granted by the glorious King Clotaire I in the year 558, and confirmed by the illustrious Clotaire II this year of 613, I, Salvien, Bishop of Chalon. We believe it our duty to insert on this leaf what we and our successors must do with the aid of our Lord God:
"1st. The Bishop of Chalon, out of respect for the place, and without receiving therefor any price whatever, shall bless the altar of the monastery of Charolles, and, if requested shall grant the holy chrism every year.
"2nd. Whenever by the will of God a superior may have passed from the monastery to the bosom of God, the bishop shall, without receiving any recompense therefor, raise to the rank of superior the monk who, by virtue of the worthiness of his life, may have been chosen by the community.
"3rd. Our successors, both bishops and archdeacons, or any other administrators, or any other dignitaries whatever of the city of Chalon, shall arrogate no other power over the monastery of Charolles, either in the ordination of persons, or the goods, or the farms of the Valley already given by the glorious King Clotaire I and confirmed by the illustrious King Clotaire II.
"4th. Our successors are forbidden to demand, or extort, under the title of presents, anything whatever from the monastery or from the parishioners of the Valley.
"5th. Our successors, unless they shall be requested by the superior of the community to come and pray at the monastery, shall never enter the said monastery, nor cross its outer precincts; and after the celebration of the holy mysteries, and after receiving short and simple thanks, the bishop shall forthwith return to his own residence without having to be requested to do so by anyone.
"6th. If any of our successors (which may God forfend) filled with perfidy, and driven by cupidity, should, in a temerarious spirit, attempt to violate the matters hereinabove set forth, then, smitten by divine vengeance, he shall be submitted to anathema.
"And in order that this constitution may ever remain in full force and vigor, we have willed that it be corroborated by our own signature.--SALVIEN.
"Done at Chalon, on the 8th day of the calends of November, of the year of the incarnation, 613."
"Good brother Loysik," said Ronan, "this charter guarantees our rights;thanks to you for having obtained it; but did we not have our swords todefend ourselves?"
"Oh, always that old leaven of Vagrery! The swords, always the swords!Thus the best of things turn to evil through abuse and hot-headedness!Yes, the sword, resistance, revolt carried to the point of martyrdomwhenever your rights are violated by force! But why shed blood, whyfight when one's right is recognized and guaranteed? Moreover, who tellsyou that you would again prevail if again put to it? Who tells you thatthe Bishop of Chalon, or his successor, would not, in case you refusedto recognize his spiritual jurisdiction, call some Burgundian seigneurto his aid? You would know how to die, but why die if one can live freeand peaceful? This charter binds the bishop and his successors torespect the rights of the monks of the monastery and of the inhabitantsof this valley. It is an additional guaranty. Should it ever be trampledunder foot, then the hour will have sounded for heroic measures. Untilthen, my friends, spend your days in the tranquility that this charterinsures to you."
"You are right, Loysik," replied Ronan, "that old leaven of Vagrery isever fermenting in our heads. But is not this submission to thespiritual jurisdiction of the bishop, a submission that the charterconsecrates, is it not a humiliation?"
"Did he not before now exercise more or less spiritual authority overus? Formally to recognize his spiritual authority is a matter of butslight importance; to deny it would be to expose ourselves tointerminable troubles. And all to what purpose? Is not the inviolabilityof our goods and our property acknowledged?"
"That is so, brother."
"This charter, that, thanks to the firmness with which you resisted hisiniquitous claims, instead of cowardly resigning yourselves tousurpations--this charter bears in itself the germ of the progressiveenfranchisement of Gaul."
"How it that, Loysik?"
"Sooner or later, what we have done in the Valley of Charolles will berepeated in other provinces; the old Gallic blood will not foreverremain torpid; some day, waking up at last to their own numbers andpower, our sons will in their turn say to the seigneurs and bishops:'Recognize our rights and we will recognize the powers that you havearrogated to yourselves; if not, war--war to the bitter end--war to thedeath--war to the point of extermination!"
"And yet, Loysik," cried Ronan, "what a shame, what an iniquity torecognize that accursed power, born of a bloody and confiscatoryconquest! To recognize the right of theft, of brigandage and of murder!The oppression of the Gallic race by the bishops and the race ofFranks!"
"Brother, as much as yourself do I deplore these misfortunes. But whatis to be done? Alas, the conquest and its accomplice the Church weighdown upon Gaul for over a century, and they have cast deep roots. Ourdescendants will be compelled to reckon with a power that years havefortified; they can not choose but recognize that power, while at thesame time wresting from it, by force if necessary, a portion of therights that our fathers were deprived of by the conquest. But what doesit matter, my friends! The first step being taken others will certainlyfollow; and with each such step, marking its track with its own blood,our race will draw steadily nearer and nearer to ultimate deliverance.Aye, the brilliant day will finally dawn, the day that Victoriaforetold, the brilliant day when Gaul, trampling under foot both thecrown of the Frankish Kings and the tiara of the Popes of Rome, willre-arise proud, radiant and free. Have faith in the future!"
The news of Loysik's return flew from mouth to mouth, and spontaneouslybrought all the inhabitants of the Valley to the monastery. The day wascelebrated with cordial joy. It gave new earnest of many years of quiet,prosperity and freedom to the monks of the monastery and to thecolonists of the Valley of Charolles.
* * * * *
I, Ronan, the son of Karadeucq, finished writing the above narrative twoyears after the death of Queen Brunhild, towards the end of the calendsof October of the year 615. Clotaire II continues to reign over Gaul asthe sole ruler, as his great-grandfather Clovis and his grandfatherClotaire I before him. The murderer of Brunhild's grandchildren does notbelie with his subsequent conduct the sinis
ter character with which hestarted his reign. Nevertheless both the royal and the episcopal charterregarding the colony and the community of Charolles have been respecteddown to this date. My brother Loysik, my good old little Odille, theBishopess and my friend the Master of the Hounds continue to defy agewith their good health.
I hereby entrust my son's son with the mission of carrying thisnarrative to the descendants of Kervan, my father's brother, both ofwhom were the sons of Jocelyn. Brittany still remains the only provinceof Gaul that preserves its independence. It has repelled the Frankishtroops of Clotaire II as it repelled the attacks of his ancestors.
My grandson will, I hope, arrive without encountering any mishap at thecradle of our family, situated near the sacred stones of Karnak. I hopehe may successfully accomplish the pious pilgrimage, the same as I didmore than fifty years ago.
I wish to enter upon this leaf a matter of importance to our family,divided as it now is in two branches, one inhabiting Burgundy, the otherBrittany. In these days of civil wars and general disorder, the peaceand freedom that we now enjoy may at any time be violently assailed. Ourdescendants will know how to die rather than relapse into slavery. Butshould it happen that unforeseen causes prevent a heroic resolution, ifour family should again be brought under the yoke of servitude and itsmembers carried away captive, it will be well, as a matter of precautionagainst unhappy days, alas! always possible, that the members of ourfamily should carry some sign of recognition indelibly marked upon anarm with the point of a needle reddened in the fire and dipped in thejuice of the privet berry. The smart is but slight, and the tender skinof a child receives and forever keeps the indelible mark. The Gallicwords _Brenn_ and _Karnak_, words that recall the glorious past of ourancestors, are henceforth to be traced on the right arm of all thechildren that may succeed us, and so forward from generation togeneration. Who knows but it may happen that members of our family, nowdivided into two branches, may, in the course of the ages cross oneanother's path? In that sign they will find the means of recognizingeach other, and render each other mutual assistance.
And now, Oh, our children, leaving the branding needle that I have usedupon my own grandchild as the symbol to accompany this narrative and bejoined to Hena's gold sickle, Guilhern's little brass bell, Sylvest'siron collar, Genevieve's silver cross, Schanvoch's casque's lark andLoysik's poniard's hilt, I fervently hope that this narrative may, asall the preceding ones left by our ancestors, keep alive in your breaststhe flame of an ardent love for your country and for your family. Andmay, Oh, my children! the moral conveyed by the adventures of my life,and of the lives of my father Karadeucq and my brother Loysik never belost upon you. Gather from them instruction, example, hope and courage.
THE END.
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