CHAPTER X.
Human fate, or rather the fate of the whole human race, is but as aweb of cloth fixed in the frame of circumstances, with an unseen handcontinually throwing the shuttle. The threads may be infinite, andsome far apart from others; some in the centre, some at the selvage,but all tied and bound together by filaments that run across andacross, and never ceasing till the piece is finished. When will thatbe? Heaven only knows. Certainly not till the end of the world.
We must now, by the reader's permission, leave the thread of Iola, andtake up that of the abbess where we last left it.
As soon as she had closed the door and pushed to the panelling whichconcealed it, the abbess reascended to the nun's gallery in thechapel, and thence proceeded into the great body of the building. Shefound, as may be supposed, the utmost confusion and alarm prevailing;for by this time the noise of the great bell, and of the varioussounds that were rising up around the walls, had roused all the nunsfrom their pallets, and, with consternation in their countenances,they were hurrying hither and thither, seeking something, and notknowing very well what they sought. Although a good deal alarmedherself, and unable to foresee what might be the end of all that wastaking place, the abbess, whose heart was naturally merry, couldalmost have laughed at the grotesque accidents which fear produced;but, having more mind and character than the whole convent puttogether, she at once proceeded to restore order.
"Go at once to the chapel," she said to every nun she saw; "gather allthe sisterhood there, and see that none be omitted. I will join yousoon."
This order had to be repeated frequently; for at every step she metsome one, and several required it to be reiterated two or three times,before terror would suffer them to comprehend it.
At length, passing round the end of the chapel, the abbess entered thegreat court, and found to her joy and satisfaction a much greater bodyof men drawn up for her defence than she expected; for the woodman hadnot been idle during the morning, and many more of the peasantry hadbeen warned to listen for the sound of the bell than the voice of theporter could summon. Four of the inferior foresters also had somehowfound their way into the building, dressed in leathern coats and ironcaps, and each carried on his shoulder a sort of weapon, which nonewithin the walls had ever seen before. This was a sort of smallcannon, fastened upon a rudely constructed stock, and fitted to carrya ball of the weight of two or three ounces. There was no lock, norany contrivance even for applying fire to the touch-hole by onemovement; but round the arm of the bearer was twined a coil of match,which one of the men was as at that moment lighting at the porter'slantern.[1]
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[Footnote 1: The first mention that I find of the real arquibuse, ormatch lock, is in an account of the household of the Duke of Burgundyin 1474; but small cannons, called in France coulverines ? la main,were used long before. They are represented in the old miniatures, asresting on the shoulder of one soldier, while another takes the aimfrom behind, and the first applies the match at the word of command.]
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"What is that? What is that?" cried the abbess; "it looks like alittle falconet."
"It is a hand-gun, lady," said the forester. "Some of our peoplebrought them from Burgundy; and Boyd sent in these four. When it istime to use them, we hoist them over our shoulders; and, while the menbehind take aim, we fire."
The abbess mused, for the invention was quite new to her; and,strangely clumsy as it was, it seemed to her a wonderful discovery inthe art of war. She even grew very valiant on the strength of it, andcalled aloud for the bailiff, to consult with him upon the means ofdefence. The bailiff could not be found, however; and the porterinformed her, with a grin, that he had gone to the buttery, thinkingthat there must be the principal point of attack.
"Bring him hither directly," said the abbess; "bring him by the ears,if he will not otherwise come. In the mean time how many men have wehere?"
"Three and thirty, my lady," replied the old porter, while one or tworan away to bring the bailiff; "three and thirty, besides the gun-men.I think we can make good the place till morning; and then we shallhave the whole country up to help us. But if you would take my advice,you would lock that bailiff up in a cell. He cools men's hearts withhis cowardice. I wish he were half as brave as you, my lady."
"Well then you must command, porter," said the abbess. "Let some ofthe men take their bows and cross-bows up to the top of the portal,while others keep watch upon the walls all round, that they may notraise ladders without our knowing it. Let the four men with thehand-cannons draw up across the chapel door for the present. They canthere very well fire upon the gates, if the enemy should break themdown."
The porter was venturing to remonstrate, pointing out that the gun-menwould be better on the walls, when the unfortunate bailiff was draggedinto the abbess's presence, with a face so pale and eyes so haggard,that his very look convicted him. He smelt strongly of wine too, sothat it was clear he had been seeking to gain courage from othersources than his own heart.
"Coward!" cried the abbess, as soon as she saw him, "are you notashamed to see women set you an example in defending the rights of thechurch, while you are slinking away from your duty? Take him hence,"she continued, as he attempted to stutter forth some vain excuses."Take him hence at once, and lock him up in the first cell on theleft hand. Away with him, for fear his cowardice should becomeinfectious!--Hark! They are upon the green. There is a trumpet. I willgo up to the window above the gates, and speak with them. Let not themen shoot till I give the word."
Two or three of the people round besought her to forbear, especiallythe priest and the principal chorister; but the abbess not onlypersisted in her resolution, but besought them to accompany her, in atone which did not admit of refusal; and, walking on with an air ofmore dignity than one would have supposed her little plump figurecould display, she ascended the stairs in the left hand tower of theportal, and presented herself at the grated window just above thegates. The part of the green nearest to the abbey was now covered witharmed men, principally on horseback, though some had dismounted andwere approaching the gates. A group of six or seven, who wereapparently leaders, were seen at a little distance on the left, andone of them was at that moment raising his voice to an armed peasantwho had appeared upon the walls. The abbess, however, cut short thisoratory in the commencement, by demanding, in that shrill high keywhich makes itself heard so much farther than even a louder voice at alower note: "What want ye here, my masters? How come you here in armsbefore the abbey of St. Clare? Bid those men keep back from the gates!Else I will instantly bid the soldiers shoot and the cannon fire."
"Cannons!" cried one of the leaders with a laugh. "By my fay, theplace seems a fortress instead of an abbey."
"You will find it so to your cost, uncivil churl, if you attempt toplunder here," cried the abbess. "Bid them keep back, I say, or bidethe consequence!"
"Halt, there, keep back!" cried the leader who had before spoken; andpushing his own horse under the window where the abbess stood, helooked up, saying, "They were but going to ring the bell. Are you thelady abbess?"
"What need of six men to ring the bell?" exclaimed the abbess. "If youneed so many hands to do small work, you will require more than youhave brought here to get the gates open. I am the lady abbess, and Ibid you go hence and leave me and my children at peace, upon pain ofanathema, and the greater and the lesser excommunication. I know notwhether ye be the same who came to plunder us some time ago; but, ifye be, ye will find us better prepared now than we were then, thoughit cost you dear, even at that time."
"Listen, listen, good lady," said the horseman; "for, if you do nothear, you cannot understand, and a woman's tongue is sometimes worsethan a cannon."
"You will find the thunder of the church worse still," cried the lady.
"Of that we are not afraid," answered the other; "for we come not toplunder, or commit any act of violence, unless we are driven to it."
"Pardieu, this is all chattering and
nonsense," cried another man, whohad ridden up from behind. "Break open the gates, Sir John. If you donot, I will; for they will convey the man away, and by Heaven, if theydo, I will burn the place about their ears!"
"Peace, peace!" cried the other. "They cannot convey him away. Our menare all round the walls. Listen to me for a moment, lady. We havecertain information that a man took refuge here last night, disguisedas a friar. Him we must have forth; and if you will bring him out andgive him up, we will ride away quietly and leave you. If not, we mustfind our way in and take him. We should be sorry to hurt any of yourpeople, or to do any damage; but, when a place is forced, you know,soldiers are under no command, and the consequence be upon your ownhead. We must have him out."
"Do you not know that this is sanctuary," cried the abbess, "and, evenif he had committed parricide or treason, any man would be safe withinthese walls."
"Ay, but he has not committed any offence which makes sanctuaryavailable," replied the other. "This is a deserter from his rightstandard, and we will have him forth, sanctuary or no sanctuary."
"There is no such man within the walls of St. Clare," replied theabbess. "I only stand up for the privileges of the place, because theyare its privileges; but at the same time, I tell you that there is nosanctuary man here, of any kind or description whatever."
"Hell and damnation!" exclaimed the more vehement of the leaders."Will you pretend to tell me that a man did not come here this veryevening, habited as a friar, who never went forth again with those whobrought him? On upon the gates there. This is all jugglery!"
"Hold yet a moment, ere it comes to strife," exclaimed the abbess; andthe other leader also exclaimed:
"Hold, hold there! What would you say, lady? for we cannot be dalliedwith."
"I say," replied the abbess, "that the damnation you evoke will someday fall upon your own heads, if you pursue this course. Moreover, Itell you, that there is no such man here, nor any man at all, but thetenants and officers of the abbey. A friar certainly did come herethis evening, with a goodly company of guests. He did not depart withthem; but he went away afterwards, and is no longer here--hear me out!To save bloodshed, I will give you the means of satisfying yourselves,protesting, at the same time, against the act you commit, and clearlyreserving my right to punish you for it, at an after time, when youshall not plead my permission as an excuse."
"We will look to that," cried one of the others boldly. "Open yourgates. We shall not want excuses for anything we do."
"Nay!" answered the abbess. "I open not my gates to all your lewdband. Any six may enter, if they will, and search every corner of theabbey, from one end to the other. You will then soon see, that I havemeans of defence if I choose to exert them. If you accept the terms,bid all the rest of the men retire to the other side of the green. Ifnot, I will tell the cross-bow men and cannoniers to fire."
"We must have ten with us, otherwise we shall never get through thesearch," said the leader, who had first spoken.
"Well, ten be it then," said the abbess. "We shall only have more inour hands to hang, if those without attempt to play us any treachery."
"You are merry, lady," said the leader. "Is it so agreed?"
"Yes!" replied the abbess; "bid your men back, quite to the otherside. Then let ten advance, and I will come down and order them to beadmitted."
She waited till she had seen the retreat of the band, to the far partof the green; and then descending, she gave her orders with greatclearness and rapidity, directing such arrangements to be made aswould display her little force to the greatest advantage, and orderingher porter as the commander-in-chief, to send two or three stout menwith each party of the searchers, keeping a wary eye at the same timeupon the band without, to insure they did not approach nearer to thegates.
She then retired into the chapel, where she found the nuns allgathered round the great altar, like a swarm of bees. Having quietedand re-assured them, as well as she could, she betook herself to thewindow, which gave light to the gallery appropriated to thesisterhood, and, opening the lattice, looked out into the court. Bythis time, the ten men to whom she had promised admittance wereentering, one by one, through the wicket; and she flattered herselfthat their faces, seen by the light of the torches, showed somesurprise at the numbers collected for the defence of the place. Thefirst part of the building, however, which they chose to search, wasthe chapel, and hurrying down, she met them at the great altar in themidst of her nuns. No incivility was committed; for the men without,with their loaded hand-guns, and some fifteen or sixteen others, withsteel cross-bows in their hands, had imposed a salutary reverence uponthe intruders. The chapel, however, was searched in every part; andwhen this was done, the soldiers gone, and the door once more locked,the abbess again resumed her station at the window, with a heartwhich, notwithstanding her bold exterior, beat somewhat anxiously forthe departure of the band.
She saw the buildings on either side of the court examined thoroughly;and then, dividing into three parties, the searchers proceeded ontheir way, disappearing from her sight. She listened for their voicesas they went, and could trace them part of the way round the greatquadrangle; but then all was silent again, and she judged that theyhad gone to the most remote parts of the building--perhaps even to thegardens--to sweep it all the way up, in order to prevent thepossibility of a fugitive escaping.
All was silent for a few minutes, except the low murmurs of theabbey-men speaking in the court below; but then came some sounds whichstartled and alarmed the abbess; for, after a crash, as of a doorforced open, she could distinctly hear a shout of "Here he is, here heis! We've got him."
A loud murmuring of many tongues succeeded; and in a state oftrembling anxiety, she waited for the result, till, to her greatrelief and even amusement, she beheld the whole party of tenre-appear, dragging along her cowardly bailiff in the midst of them,while several of the retainers of the abbey followed with a look ofmalicious fun upon their faces.
"Upon my life! upon my soul! by all the blessed saints, I tell youtrue," cried the unhappy bailiff. "Here, Giles, porter, tell them whoI am, man--He can tell you--he can tell you."
"Faith, you are mistaken there, if you call me porter," said the manhe addressed. "I know nothing about you. You are mistaken in me, goodsir. I am the bailiff of the abbey."
"There, there," said one of the leaders of the soldiery. "It is all invain, my good lord, so come along--there, take him out."
The abbess could not refrain from laughing, although she felt a stronginclination to interfere, and claim the poor bailiff as the especialproperty of the convent. Before she could make up her mind, however,the man was past the gates; but still, while one party of thesearchers remained in the court, another turned back and pursued theexamination, till not a hole or corner of the abbey was leftunexplored.
In the meanwhile, however, a great deal of loud cursing and swearingwas heard from the green; words of command were given, orders shoutedforth; and at length, the porter hurriedly closed the wicket,exclaiming--
"Up to the walls! Bend your cross-bows! What are they about now?--Yougunners, stand here below!--You pass not, sir, you pass not, till weknow what all this is," he continued, addressing the leader who hadfirst spoken to the abbess, and who, with three companions, nowhurried into the court from the more secluded part of the building.
"I know not what it is any more than you do, my good man," replied theother; "but if you let me out, I will soon see."
"They are coming forward towards the gates, sir!" exclaimed theporter. "Shoot at them if they come too close, my men!--You are aknight, sir, it seems; and we will keep you as a hostage for thesafety of the abbey."
"Nay, I cannot be answerable for that unless you let me forth,"replied the other; "but if you do, I pledge my knightly word, as agentleman and a Christian, that all the troops shall be drawn off, andthe abbey left unmolested."
He spoke eagerly and hastily, evidently under some alarm but the oldporter was not satisfied, and he replied--
&
nbsp; "Here, put it down and your name to it. Here are pen and ink, and thevisitor's book in the lodge." The officer hurried in, and did as wasrequired at once; for the four unpleasant-looking hand culverins werepointed at him and his companions, and a lighted match in each man'shand ready to discharge them. "There it is," he said, when he hadwritten, "Now let me pass."
The porter looked over the writing. Whether he could read or not, Icannot tell; but when he had satisfied himself as far as he was able,he cautiously opened the wicket, and let the intruders pass out one byone.
The commander led the way, hurrying on with a quick step; and hecertainly did not arrive as soon as he could have wished.
"What is the matter?" he exclaimed; "what is the matter?"
"Mort Dieu!" cried the second in command, "we have been cheated, SirJohn. This man is not the bishop after all. Here is one of our ownpeople who knows him, and says he is really the bailiff."
"I am indeed," cried the miserable coward; "and if you would have letme, I would have told you all long ago."
"He Says, the friar was there not an hour ago," vociferated the secondin command, "and that they must have got him out, either into thesehouses, or into the wood, as we were coming up the valley."
"Search the houses," said the commander; "and send a troop up the roadto the wood."
"It is done, it is done," cried the other. "The men are furious; forthey will lose all share of the reward. By Satan and all his imps," headded, "I believe they have set fire to the houses."
"This will come to a serious reckoning," said the commander gravely."Try and stop the fire there. Call off the men;" and, as promptly asmight be, he did all that was possible to remedy the evil that hadbeen done. As every one who has had the command of rude men must know,however, there are times when they become perfectly ungovernable. Suchwas the case at present. They were an irregular and ruthless body whonow surrounded the abbey; and without attending to the orders theyreceived, to the remonstrances or even to the threats of theircommander, they set fire to every building on the right hand side ofthe green. Nor would the others have escaped the same fate, nor theabbey itself have been left unassailed, had not the officer, as a lastresource, commanded the trumpets to sound, and ordered all who couldbe gathered together to march up the road, for the purpose ofsearching the forest.
The stragglers followed, as soon as they found that the principal partof the troop had left them; and the whole force, except three or four,who remained to complete the pillage of the priest's house, marchedslowly up, till a halt was sounded under the first trees of the wood.
There, however, the officer in command selected some twenty men fromhis band, and rode back to the abbey green. The rest of the men haltedwhere they stood, inquiring of each other what could be the meaning ofthis proceeding.
He gave no explanation even when he returned; but the next morning, atdaybreak, three bodies were found hanging by the neck from poles stuckinto the thatch of one of the unconsumed cottages.