The Poniard's Hilt; Or, Karadeucq and Ronan. A Tale of Bagauders and Vagres

  CHAPTER V.

  VAGRES IN JUDGMENT.

  The episcopal villa has been invaded by the Vagres. They carried theplace, and they did so without striking a blow.

  Who is he who is celebrating night mass in the bishop's chapel? The waxcandles are lighted on the altar with all the gorgeousness of an EasterSunday. Their brilliant light illumines the near vault, while the restof the chapel is thrown into the shade, down to the Gothic mainentrance, that now and then a ruddy gleam flickers through like thereflection of an extinguishing bonfire. What bonfire was that? It wasthe bonfire of the episcopal villa in flames.

  Was, then, the villa set on fire by the Vagres? Certes; for what otherreason should they have brought along torches and straw?

  In the center of the yard the riches of the bishop lie in a highheap--gold and silver vases, holy chalices, together with drinkinggoblets, Bible cases of precious wood, together with platters of thebanquet table, patines, together with bowls used for cooling thebishop's wine; good sized and ripped-up bags, from which silver and goldsous roll out; costly cloth, purple and blue, that but awaited thetailor's scissors; warm and rare furs, some black as crows, others whiteas doves. In the way of trophies, the axes, bucklers and pikes of theleudes, who ran away out of fear for the devil, are stacked up at thefour corners of the superb heap of booty. Gold, silver, steel, thebrilliant colors of the cloths--they all scintillate and sparkle, eachwith its own lustre, and all with the resplendence that is so pleasingto the eye of the Vagre.

  The Vagres are there! They are in the holy chapel of the episcopalvilla, where they do that which all Vagres do after they have drunktheir fill, ravaged and pillaged. Some are snoring at the foot of thealtar exhausted by their labors or overcome by the fumes of wine; othersbalance themselves on their unsteady limbs and cast loving glances atthe wealth which they are about to scatter on their route and that willmake so many poor people happy. The Vagres of Ronan are ever faithful tothe sacred commandments of the Vagrery:

  "Let us take from the rich and give to the poor. The Vagre who preservesa sou for the morrow ceases to be a Vagre, a 'Wolf's-head,' a 'wand'ringman.' He ever divides the booty of the previous evening among the poor,so that he be compelled to pillage fresh renegade bishops, and Frankishoppressors of old Gaul. Nor peace nor truce to the oppressors!"

  And as to those other Vagres, who lean against the shafts of thepillars, or are seated on the step of the altar near the snorers--theireyes are as steady as their limbs; have they perchance, not also tastedthe old wines of the episcopal villa?

  Oh! They did drink, twice, ten times more than the others; but they areveterans at the trade, old Vagres, sturdy customers who drain a pouch atone gulp, and immediately after are able to walk with steady step over abeam across the conflagration that they have lighted in the burg of aFrank, or the villa of a bishop.

  And these others--men with shaven heads, wan, clad in rags; these womenand these girls, some of whom are pretty--who are they?

  They are the slaves of the Church; they look happy at the sight of theirday of justice and vengeance. But other slaves there are, not a few innumber, who fled terrified into the woods. They imagined they saw thefires of heaven roll down upon the Vagres, who could be sacrilegiousenough to put to the sack and fire the house of the vice-regent of Godon earth, their holy bishop.

  And what is Ronan doing? There he sits in full gala on the episcopalbench, decked in sacerdotal garb, and coiffed in the fur cap which countNeroweg left behind when he fled demented out of the banquet hall. FourVagres assist Ronan. They are odd-looking clerks! Jolly deacons! Amongthem is Wolf's-Tooth, the giant whose waist a barrel's hoop would hardlyencircle.

  "Brother, are we all together?"

  "Ronan, only the Master of the Hounds is missing. When the conflagrationwas at its height, he was seen by one of our men running towards thedoor of the bishopess; he leaped through the flames and re-issued at thegarden door running with a fainting woman in his arms."

  "He is doubtlessly engaged in making her regain consciousness. Well,while the bishopess is being revived, shall we try the bishop?"

  "The holy man has tried people, whom he said were under hisjurisdiction, as bishop of the city of Clermont. He is now under ourjurisdiction. Let us try him!"

  Louder than the Vagres themselves, the slaves of the prelate set up thecry:

  "Let us judge the bishop!"

  "Bring him forward, on the spot!"

  Two Vagres went out in quest of the holy man of God, who had been keptlocked up in a contiguous compartment. He was brought in pinioned. Paleand wrathful he was pushed before the tribunal of Ronan and his fourVagre clerks.

  "Seigneur bishop," said Ronan to him, "thy 'charity,' thy 'piety,' thy'exalted chastity' (thou seest I am giving thee all the honorary titlesthat thou and thine bestow upon one another, holy men that ye are) thy'exalted chastity' will be kind enough to inform us of thy name?"

  "Incendiary! Pillager! Sacrilegious wretch! Those are your names! I damnand excommunicate you, you, together with your whole band! You standexcommunicated in this world and in the next, where you will suffereverlasting tortures!"

  "Thy 'exalted chastity' answers my question with insults. Seeing thatthou refusest to state thy name, I shall answer for thee. Thy name isCautin--"

  "May my name burn your tongue!"

  "Slaves of the bishopric," proceeded Ronan addressing those whosurrounded him, "what charges have you to prefer against your bishop?"

  "He grinds us down with toil and with taxes. He oppresses us frommorning till night all the year long!"

  "For food he lets us have a handful of beans, for clothes rags, and forshelter rickety mud huts!"

  "Our slightest oversights are visited with the whip!"

  "He violates our daughters! What resistance can the female slave offerwhen threatened? She submits with a shudder--she weeps--"

  "That a Frank should be ready to subjugate us and whelm us with miserywe can understand: he is a conqueror who abuses his power. But thatbishops, Gauls like ourselves, should join the Frank in order to sharewith him the plunder that he levies upon us--that we cannot understand;such action must draw down the severest punishment upon the heads of theperpetrators. Oh! Our old priests, the venerated druids, never alliedthemselves with the Roman conquerors of Gaul. No! No! With the sword inone hand, the mistletoe twig in the other, they were ever the first togive the signal for war against the foreigner; they roused the peoplesto revolt with the words: 'The country and freedom!' The response cameswift from the masses; out of their midst arose the Chief of theHundred Valleys, Sacrovir, Vindex, Marik, Civilis! And the Romanstrembled in their very Capitol!"

  "Bishop," Ronan proceeded, "has thy exalted truthfulness anything toanswer to the accusations of thy slaves?"

  "They are all damned criminals, sacrilegious wretches who will have toanswer for their crimes when they appear before the throne of God, onthe day of last judgment. Ever after they will gnash their teeth--"

  "Bishop, has thy exalted purity nothing else to say than utter insults?"

  "And may it please the Lord to turn these insults into so many tonguesof fire to pierce your bodies, ye accursed men!"

  "While waiting for the fulfillment of thy wishes, listen to the furtherindictment against thee: Thou didst covet the goods of one of thypriests named Anastasius; he declined to let thee have them; thou didstinveigle him to Clermont; thou didst there have him seized, bound handand foot and thrown alive into a grave with a decomposing corpse. Wiltthou dare deny that thou art guilty of that felony?"

  "A wonderful council this is, made up of beggars, sacrilegious wretchesand slaves, to interrogate a bishop!"

  "We shall proceed. Thy exalted poverty, in its rage to augment itswealth, conceived this evening, under guise of a miracle, a veritablebandit's trick: thou didst plunder Count Neroweg under pressure of thefear of the devil. Under the code of the Vagrery, to plunder a Frank isa pious act. But if the Vagres delight in pillaging our conquerors, itis only in order to
administer to the wants of the poor by making themsharers in the plunder. On the other hand, to plunder a thief forself-gain is a sin according to the code of the Vagrery. Moreover, thoudidst absolve the count of a crime in order that thou mightst possess ayoung slave, a girl of barely fifteen years. Now, then, under the codeof the Vagrery, such episcopal profligacy also is a damnable sin thatdemands punishment."

  And addressing himself to the Vagres, Ronan added:

  "Bring in the young slave!"

  Ronan was right. To impute fifteen years to the girl was to add to heractual age. Her blonde hair that was parted in two long and thickbraids, reached almost down to her feet, which were bare, like her armsand shoulders. In fetching her from the burg, the brutal leude hadbarely given her time to dress before lifting her on the crupper of hishorse. Accordingly, now that she faced the Vagres what suppliant fearwas not readable in the large blue eyes of the poor child, who stilltrembled visibly! Her nocturnal ride on the crupper of the Frankishwarrior's horse, the burning of the episcopal villa, the strange aspectof the Vagres--how many subjects of alarm to her young heart! The younggirl's cheeks must once have been full and rosy; they now were hollowand pale. The infantine figure, bearing the stamp of suffering, waspainful to behold. As the young slave stepped into the chapel a feelingof sadness came over Ronan; his very voice betrayed his emotion when headdressed her:

  "What is your name, my child?"

  "I am called Odille."

  "Where were you born?"

  "Far from here--in one of the uplands of the Mont-Dore."

  "How old are you, little Odille?"

  "My mother said to me this spring: 'Odille, it is to-day fourteen yearsthat you have been the joy of my life.'"

  "How did you become the slave of the Frankish count? Tell us yourhistory."

  "My father died young. I lived in the mountain with my grandfather, mybrother and my mother. We lived off the yield of our herd, and we spunwool. No sorrow had ever befallen us except my father's death. One daythe Franks scaled the mountain in arms. They took our herd and said tous: 'We shall carry you to the burg of our count to restock his domainwith slaves and cattle.' My brother attempted to defend us. The Frankskilled him. They tied my mother and me to one rope, and drove ustogether with our herd of sheep before them. My grandfather begged themon his knees to allow him to follow us. But the Franks said to him: 'Youare too old to gain your bread as a slave.' 'But if I am left alone, Ishall die of hunger on the mountain!' 'Die, then!' was their answer, andthey made us move on before them. My grandfather followed us, weeping,at a distance. The Franks stoned him to death. On their way theycaptured other slaves, took in other droves of cattle, and killed otherpeople of the mountain when they refused to follow. They descended intothe valley; there they made some further captures of people and cattle.There were about fifty of us, men, women and girls. The Franksslaughtered all the children as being worthless. The first night weslept in a wood. On that night the Franks violated the women despite alltheir entreaties. I heard the sobs of my mother. They separated me fromher in the evening and did me no harm. The chief of the band kept me, hesaid, for the count. The next morning we resumed our march, with meseparated from my mother. More people were killed who did not wish tomarch on--more slaves and cattle were taken. After that the troopmarched to the burg. Before arriving there a second night was spent inthe woods. The chief who reserved me for the count made me sleep besidehis horse. Early the next morning we proceeded on our route. I tried todiscover my mother in the crowd--the Frank said to me: 'She died; twowarriors contended for her last night; in the tussle she was killed.' Iwished to lie down and die, but the chief raised me on his horse, and wearrived on the count's domain--"

  "Dost thou hear, bishop?" broke in Ronan. "Dost thou hear, renegadeGaul? It is thy allies, the Franks, who in this as well as in the otherprovinces, put old men and babes to death as useless mouths, and carryaway the men and women of our race to restock the lands of Gaul whichthe kings have parceled out among their warriors after plundering us ofour patrimony. It is thy allies, thy friends, thy brothers in Christ andin God who commit these execrable deeds. And yet thou orderest thesepoor people, under the penalty of hell, to obey those plunderers, thosethieves, those ravishers, those murderers, who violate and kill mothersunder the very eyes of their daughters! Didst thou hear that story,Gallic bishop?"

  "The Franks respect the property of the Church and the servants of theLord--while you, accursed pack, you dare to lift impious hands againstboth the property and the priests of the Church!"

  "Proceed," said Ronan to Odille.

  "We arrived at the burg. The count had me taken to his chamber. He threwhimself upon me; I tried to resist; he struck me in the face with hisfist; my face was bathed in blood; pain and fright rendered mesenseless, and the seigneur count violated me. I was afterwards lockedup with other female slaves in the apartment of his wife Godegisele; avery gentle woman for so wicked a man. To-night, one of the leudes camefor me and brought me hither on his horse. He said to me that I was tobe the bishop's slave."

  "And does that frighten you, poor child, to be a slave of the seigneurbishop?"

  "My mother and relatives were killed; I am a slave and disgracedbesides. I tried to strangle myself with my hair; but I was afraid--andyet I wish I could die."

  "And she is only fourteen, bishop! Didst thou hear?"

  "Sit down on the steps of the altar, little Odille. Here you have onlyfriends; you are still young, do not despair."

  The child contemplated the Vagre with wondering eyes; he spoke to her ina gentle voice. She stepped towards the altar and sat down; she lookedat Ronan only; she listened only to his words.

  "O! Master of the Hounds! Master of the Hounds!" cried one of the lustyVagres, who stood near one of the small doors of the chapel opening intothe garden. "Whither are you bound with the bishopess on your arm? Wouldshe not like to come and see her darling husband, the holy BishopCautin, before we hang him?"

  "My good seigneurs Vagres," said the bishopess, whose comely shape washardly distinguishable in the shadow of the vaulted door of the chapel,"long have I cursed yonder man who is my husband. I now no longer cursehim. Happiness renders one indulgent. Be merciful to him, as I pardonhim. For the rest, I no longer was his wife--our carnal bonds weresundered. Let him go in peace. I at last enjoy my day of freedom and oflove. Long live the Vagrery!"

  "Shameless and sacrilegious woman! Accursed burgess! You shall burn forthis in the everlasting flames of hell!"

  But Cautin's vituperation and threats were idle. The bishopess steppedout under the tall trees of the garden of the villa and continued herpromenade, while Ronan again addressed the holy man:

  "Sentence shall be passed upon thee by those whom thou hast oppressed.Ye poor ecclesiastical slaves, what shall be done to this wicked andprofligate religious humbug who buries the living with the dead?"

  "Let him be hanged! Death to the bishop!"

  "Yes! Yes! Let him be hanged!"

  "He will die but one death, the infamous scoundrel! And our lives havebeen one prolonged agony!"

  "What dost thou think of that?" said Ronan to the bishop. "Dost thoufancy the views of these poor people?"

  "Brothers, in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, the friend of thesorrowful, pardon this guilty man if you find his repentance sincere."

  Who was it that spoke thus? The hermit-laborer, who had until then kepthimself concealed in the shadow under one of the vaults of the chapel.As he spoke he stepped into the light and stood before the Vagres andthe slaves who were venting their rage.

  "The hermit-laborer!" cried the slaves with touching respect. "Thefriend of the poor, of the meek and the oppressed!"

  "The consoler of those who weep!"

  "How often has he not taken in the field the hoe of one of our exhaustedcompanions, and himself finished the task of the slave in order to savehim from the keeper's whip!"

  "One day, as I was pasturing the sheep that I had in charge, two lambswent astray. The hermit
-laborer looked for them until he found them andwas able to bring them back to me. Blessed be he for his charity."

  "Our little children always have a smile for the hermit-laborer."

  "Oh! From the moment they see him they run to him and take hold of hisrobe."

  "As poor as any of ourselves, he loves to make little presents to thechildren. He always has some fruit for them that he gathered in thewoods, a piece of wild honey-comb, or some little bird that has fallenout of its nest."

  "Love one another! Love one another like brothers, poor disinheritedpeople! he always says to us.--Love renders toil less arduous."

  "Hope! he also says to us.--Hope! The rule of the oppressors will passaway; and then the first will be the last, and the last will be thefirst."

  "Jesus, the friend of the sorrowful, said the iron of the slave will bebroken. Hope!"

  "Unite! Love one another! Help one another, children of one God, sonsof one country! Disunited, you can do nothing; united you will bestronger than your oppressors. The day of deliverance may be nigh! Love,unity, patience!"

  "Aye! Aye! These are the precepts that the hermit-laborer teaches us!"

  "And these precepts, brothers, you must remember and act upon at thishour," replied the monk-laborer. "Jesus said: 'Woe to the hardenedhearts! Mercy to those who repent!'"

  "Insolent monk, dare you accuse me!"

  "Hermit, good friend, you hear the 'holy' man--you perceive hisrepentance--what shall be done, my Vagres?"

  "Brothers, if you love me, grant me the bishop's life!"

  "The bishop made us suffer. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth!"

  "Will vengeance wipe out your past sufferings? Your ancestors astonishedthe world by their generous bravery--and would you slay a defenselessman?"

  Vagres and slaves remained silent for a moment. After a shortconsultation with Ronan they directed him to stipulate the conditionsfor Cautin's life.

  "Bishop, choose! Either be our cook or hang!"

  "Sacrilegious bandits! After pillaging and setting my episcopal villa onfire, to demand that I be their cook! Monk, you hear them! Alas! Alas!And you have neither curse nor anathema for them! Is it thus that youdefend me? What did you save my life for but in order to rejoice at myhumiliation?"

  "Hold your tongue! Jesus of Nazareth, whose life was as pure as yours issullied; Jesus, when in the Roman pretorium, amidst the soldiers whowhelmed him with mockery and physical outrage said: 'My God, pardonthem, they know not what they do--"

  "But these scamps do know what they are doing when they make a cook ofme! And would you have me pardon them their sacrilege!"

  "Consider your past life--"

  "Come, my Vagres," said Ronan; "come, day is dawning. Let us pack ourbooty on the bishop's wagons, and on the march! What a fine day willthis be for the folks of this neighborhood!"

  And stepping towards the little slave girl, who, seated on the steps ofthe altar had quietly watched and listened to all that took place:

  "Poor child, you are without father or mother, will you come with us?The Vagrery is the world topsy-turvy. The slave and the poor are sacredto us; our hatred is for the wicked rich. If our life of adventure anddangers should frighten you, our friend the hermit will take you to somecharitable person in a neighboring village, where you may be safe."

  "I shall follow you, Ronan. I am a slave and an orphan," answered Odilleweeping. "What can I do? Where would you have me go, if not with you whospeak to me with so much kindness?"

  "Well, then, come with me, and dry your tears, little Odille. No tearsare shed among the Vagres. You shall ride on one of the wagons of thevilla in which our companions will carry the booty. Come, take my arm,and let us walk out, poor little child. We shall go whithersoever chancemay take us!"

  And seeing that the hermit was stepping towards him:

  "Adieu, friend!"

  "Ronan, I shall accompany you."

  "Will you join us in running the Vagrery? You, a hermit? You among us,'Wand'ring men,' 'Wolves,' 'Heads of Wolves,' Vagres that we are? Asaint in the company of demons?"

  "They that be whole need not the physician, but they that are sick."

  "Monk, you are right!" said Cautin to him in a low voice. "You will notleave me alone in their hands? You will protect me against thePhilistines?"

  "It is my duty to render these people better than they are."

  "Better! The sacrilegious scoundrels, who pillaged my villa, stole mybeautiful goblets, my vases and all my money--"

  "The homicidal sword will be turned into a pruning hook to prune theflowering vine; the peaceful and teeming earth will yield its fruit forall men; the lion will lie down beside the sheep, the wolf beside thelamb, and a little child will lead them! Do not blaspheme, bishop! TheCreator made His children after his own image; He made them good inorder that they may be happy; blind, wretched or ignorant are thewicked. Let us heal their ignorance, their wretchedness and theirblindness--and good they will become!"

  "Lies!" cried the bishop excitedly. "Behold yonder the woman who was mywife, with her orange skirt and gold embroidered red stockings--beholdher on the arm of that bandit with the black hair. The infamouswoman--they are in each other's arms."

  "Jesus had only words of mercy for Magdalen the courtesan and for theadulterous woman; will you dare to throw the first stone at the womanwho once was your wife? Come--come along--I pity you--lean upon myarm--you are about to faint--"

  "Alas! Where do these accursed Vagres propose to take me?"

  "That does not concern you--mend your ways--repent!"

  "My God! My God! And there is no hope of being delivered on the road!Oh! We live in frightful days!"

  "And who is it that made these days what they are, if not you, princesof the Church? Oh! For centuries did our fathers see Gaul peaceful andflourishing. She then was free!" replied the hermit with bitterness."To-day she is again enslaved."

  "Our fathers were miserable heathens! At this very hour they aregnashing their teeth in all eternity!" cried Cautin. "We, on thecontrary, have the true faith--and the Lord has terrible punishment instore for the wretches who dare insult His priests and plunder the goodsof His Church. Look yonder, monk, is not that a sight to make one'sheart break? Abomination and desolation!"